Battlestar Galactica: Diversion VS 5, Episode #12 By Senmut July, 2022 ===================== From The Adama Journals Life in the Fleet with each passing day seemingly reaches a greater level of what my mother used to refer as "normalcy." Many problems that plagued us in the past such as the continuing harassment of the Risik are, Lords willing, behind us. The mysterious disappearance of Siress Lydia has ended the bitter divisions that once plagued the Council. The Fleet Referendum on continuing the journey to Earth has led to acceptance that our final destiny does not involve 'turning back' towards the Colonies. It has allowed us to become more......at ease in our thinking. We know many hurdles and potential dangers remain to us, but at the same time, the reality of reaching Earth seems near enough to let us seriously think of what we will do with our lives upon arrival. Such planning no longer seems like idle flights of fancy, as it might have at the beginning of our journey. My one apprehension at present lies with my beloved Ila on the Pegasus. They have just survived a brush with Count Iblis in which the target was Commander Cain's new wife, Captain Kylie. The details of this confrontation, which Ila did not witness, have clearly been erased from the memories of those who were direct participants which included Cain, Kylie and......Ensign Wynn the missing pilot who had been enslaved by Iblis aboard his Derelict hellhole, but who has now been miraculously restored to them. Ila's theory that the details of how this came about were erased by the Ship of Lights solely to prevent the incident and its repercussions from traumatizing Cain and his new bride in the difficult journey ahead that brings them closer to the Colonies and the Resistance. Perhaps her optimistic take on events is correct. Even so, the fact she was nearly in contact with the ultimate representation of Evil that is Iblis, is enough to leave me shaken about what other dangers await her...and will it ever be possible for the physical gap between us to be bridged one day? Ila talks about new technologies drawn from our Kobollian ancestors that might well hold the key to making such a bridge possible when the twin goals of Earth arrival and the liberation of the Colonies are, at last, achieved. That perhaps the seeming convergence of these events, so far apart in the physical space of the universe, will be but a mere prelude to the eventual reunification of all thirteen tribes of our race at long last. Able to transcend the barriers of travel distance as easily as we do now in communications distance. If she believes this is possible......I must let myself believe in it too. I must, since we both know what the ramifications of such a breakthrough would mean for ourselves. Prelude "Yes, Colonel, what have we got?" requested Commander Adama, as he moved up to his bridge station. "We're not quite certain, sir," replied Colonel Tigh. He gestured to one of the monitors. "We have a report from Blue Squadron, of a solar system almost directly in our flight path, but, well..." "Yes?" "Well, none of the readings make much sense, Commander. Here." He motioned Adama closer to a readout. "A Gamma-class star, with a single planet." Click click "The planet is about two-thirds the size of Caprica, yet its mass and gravity are those of a significantly larger world." "That is odd," agreed Adama. "That's not all." Tigh switched displays. "The atmosphere is heavy with oxygen and water vapor, yet there is surface water, but no apparent indication of vegetation. And repeated sweeps show no signs of technology or life. Of any sort." "What about mineral scans?" asked Adama, after a few moments. "Anything of value to us?" "We're not sure. We get returns for several mineral ores, then we don't." He switched displays yet again. "Every time we scan, we get a...well, a wave of interference. The whole thing seems to blank out, then we're back where we began. Like an electrical circuit being reset." "Have you run a full systems diagnostic on scanners and computer?" "We are about to, but I wanted you to see this first, Commander." "Begin so, now. Any danger to us or the Fleet?" asked Adama. "None we can detect so far. As I said, there are no signs of any sort of technology or civilization down there. Possibly interference from the star." Adama turned to look out the main view port. The Fleet would pass within less than half an astronomical unit from the planet. This was indeed something to arouse the curiosity, but was it worth the time? They were always on the lookout for minerals, water, or other supplies to keep the Fleet going, yet... "How long till our patrol returns?" "Ten centons to touchdown, Commander." "Very good. Have all the pilots meet me in the Ward Room, for their debriefings." "Very good, sir. Anything else?" "Once the patrol has landed, take the Fleet into an extended orbit around the planet, Colonel. Proceed with system diagnostics. Full power to scanners, all wavelons. We can't afford to pass up any potential benefit." "Yes, Commander." "And inform Baltar." "Yes, sir." Tigh turned to Omega. "Set course for orbit, Omega. One hundred thousand, apogee." "Yes, Colonel." "And pass the word to the rest of the Fleet." "Sir." Chapter One "That's fantastical," said Adama, after hearing Ensign Grumio's report. Like those of the other pilots, it was concise, clear, and made no sense. "But real, nonetheless, Commander," replied the pilot. "It seemed as if our scans kept changing, as if each one was scanning a different planet." "Yes?" said Adama, as Flight Leader Hadries, via holoscan, made to interject. "By your command. We recalibrated our scanners twice, yet our returns were never concise. We gained no coherent data." "Any theories?" Adama asked. He looked around, then acknowledged Wilker. "There seem to be wild fluctuations in the planet's magnetic field, Commander," said the Chief scientist. "I have found nothing in our database that correlates with variations such as these." "It is the same with us," said Commander Moray. "No record of any such planetary phenomenon." "Were you scanned at all?" asked Adama. "Not according to our own scans, both active and passive," replied Cree, senior pilot of the patrol. "Yet..." "Yes?" "Yet, I couldn't help but think that the interference with our scans seemed very...well, selective, sir. If that makes any sense." "You mean, as if someone or something was aware of your presence? Even deliberately jamming you?" "It seems crazy, but yes. I just don't know, Commander," replied Cree. "Yes?" said Adama, hearing a low comment from Ensign Bregens. "I have no explanations, sir," replied Bregens, "but it gave me the creeps." Adama knodded his encouragement, and the ensign took a deep breath and leaned forward. "As far as we could scan, the star was stable. No flares or radion bursts that we could see, to account for anything. But when I would scan the planet for tylium, for example, I'd get a return. Then there would be this interference, then no sign of any tylium. I tried several times, and put my scanner on random wavelon rotation. Same thing." Several other pilots knodded in agreement. Adama turned to Moray. Several of his pilots had also reported similar happenings. Some had even reported random and unaccounted for interference in their own internal sensors and processors. "Colonel?" asked Adama, turning to his XO. "It is a curiosity, I admit," replied Tigh. "But without any certainty of the supplies we need, I'd recommend giving this planet a wide berth. Too many unknowns, too many potential risks. Plus we don't have time to spend on pure science, sadly." He noticed Wilker's slightly downcast look. He could understand; the scientist longed for new things, new challenges, to add to the sum of Human knowledge. "Well," said Adama, after a long moment, "I think Colonel Tigh has a point. We'll bypass..." "Bridge to Commander Adama," came Athena's voice over the intercom. "Yes?" replied Adama. "The planet is now on visual, Commander. And we have a new contact." "A new contact? What sort?" "It just showed up, as we drew close," said Omega. "Magnify," said Adama. Omega did so. "We never saw anything like this," said Cree. "Everything was clear. Both visually and on scanners." "Well, it is there now," said Adama. They watched, as the Galactica drew closer to the planet. It was as they had seen before. Dull-grey in color, with little open water, and scattered patches of cloud. But now, directly over the equator, was a structure. A huge one. "It looks like some sort of dockyard," said Tigh. "Construction works." "Yes it does," said Adama. They watched as the ship drew closer. The station had many levels, and was several times the size of either the Galactica or the BaseShip. Sunlight glinted off what looked like ports, but none were lighted from within. "No signs of any active power signatures," said Athena. "Keep scanning," said Adama. They did, for two more orbits, the Fleet taking up position behind them. But, despite all attempts at communications, the vast structure remained silent to all hails. The Cylons launched a probe to the surface, but it returned little in the way of information. "There it goes, again," said Athena. "What?" asked Adama. "That, well, I call it an electronic ripple. Like a wave of...I don't know what, is erasing what data we were getting." She frowned in frustration. "I just can't explain it, Commander." "But still no signs of life?" "None, sir. Neither on the planet itself, or on the station, at the moment. I did get an indication of limited vegetation a while ago, then nothing." "Colonel?" "I hate to sound...superstitious, Commander, but this reminds me of those old legends of, well, ghost planets." "As in the planet is haunted?" asked Adama. "Is that what you are saying?" "Of course not," said Tigh, a most down-to-Caprica sort of man, and not one to let his imagination run away with him. "Still...I'm uncomfortable remaining here. Somehow, I...I can't explain it, but I have a sense of foreboding." Adama considered a moment, then looked at the scanners once more. All diagnostics had come up clean. The problem, whatever it was, was not on their end as far as they could tell. "What do we know about that station?" he asked Athena. "Any useful data?" "It's full of a wide variety of metals, plastics, and such, Commander. Some of the alloys do not match any we or the Cylons use." "Colonel, outfit a boarding party. Let's assess the station for possible salvage, and the planet for mineral extraction." He saw his XO about to protest, but raised a finger. "We need every scrap of material we can get, to keep running. Yes, it is a danger, but a calculated one. Captain Apollo will command. He can pick his team." "Very well, sir. Right away." "Shuttle away," said Tigh, as the boarding party departed Alpha Bay. "ETA with the station, nine centons." "Very good, Colonel. Constant monitoring of all telemetry." "Telemetry download aye, Commander," replied Athena. "Colonel," said Adama, "alert the Hephaestus to prepare to receive material from the derelict station for processing. Baltar's people as well." "Aye, Commander." "What do you think?" asked Starbuck, as the shuttle drew closer to the station. "A ghost planet?" "Nonsense," said Apollo. "Just a planet of a sort we have not classified yet, Starbuck." He watched as the planet spun below, and the alien station filled the windows. "Doctor?" "I agree," said Wilker, in a seat behind them. "Nothing supernatural about it. Just another planet in the universe." "Do not be so certain," said Sargamesh, the former Zohrloch officer, and now Colonial Warrior. "Some things do not submit to mere scientific understanding so easily." "Seriously? You really mean that?" asked Starbuck. "Some places remain forever touched by those who once called it home. We know nothing of the former residents of this world, Lieutenant." He shrugged, and sighed. "Who are we to say?" "So that's one for 'ghost planet', one against. Sounds like we could make things interesting here ..." began Starbuck, The lights began to flicker and he shook his head, frowning. He looked from his instruments, to the station ahead. "What the...?" "Commander!" said Athena, looking up from her instruments. "Something..." She didn't get to finish, as the entire bridge seemed to pitch beneath them. The lights failed, then returned, then failed again. Instrument readings went all over the boards, then did so again. "What in..." Tigh began, when the lights dimmed yet again, and he fell, trying to catch the railing. For a moment, it was as if he couldn't see at all. His vision fogged and dimmed, and he shook his head, as the ship seemed to roll beneath them. He saw Adama reach for a handhold, then... Then, it was over. Slowly, his vision cleared, and the lights returned to normal. One by one, monitors and scanners resumed their normal functions, and people picked themselves up. "Tigh? Athena?" asked Adama. "I'm alright, Father," said Athena, rubbing her upper left arm. "Not too bad." "I'm fine, I think," said Tigh, looking around. The bridge seemed just as it had before. "Commander!" came a voice from somewhere. Adama turned. It was Rigel. "The planet, Commander!" "The planet? What about..." "Oh my God!" said Tigh, as he looked, and saw what Rigel had. "It's...it's gone!" said Athena. "The planet was nowhere to be seen. Chapter Two "What the Hades Hole just hit us?" said Starbuck, picking himself up off the deck of the shuttle. "Got me, Starbuck," said Apollo. "I..." "Sir!" said technician Hummer, from the passenger section. "Look!" "Look at..." "Apollo! Holy Frack!" said Starbuck. "The Fleet!" "It's...gone!" "How is that possible?" asked Adama, looking at the instruments. One micron, they were orbiting a planet, the next...nothing. "Unknown," replied Athena. "It's just not there, any more." "The shuttle?" "No sign of it, either," said Athena, after another scan. "And nothing on the shuttle's standard or emergency channels." She turned to her father. "They're gone." "All scanners, full sweep. Maximum power. Try and contact the shuttle. All channels." "Yes, Commander." "Commander," said Omega. "Baltar calling, for you. And just about every other ship in the Fleet, as well." "Put Baltar on." "Nothing?" asked Starbuck. "Not a thing," replied Apollo. "We've run a dozen sweeps with the scanners on full, every wavelon, full power. Not a thing. No radion, no debris, nothing. If the Fleet had been destroyed, there would be plenty of both. All the scopes are clear." "And the station still reads as dead," said Hummer. "And the planet as well. No signs of anything that could have caused...whatever it was." "Well, there was something on the scanners for a moment," said Starbuck. "Yes?" asked Sargamesh. "What?" "I'm not sure. All the instruments went crazy. Jumped off the dial. But only for a few microns." "Nothing in the sensor logs?" said Wilker. "That's just it," replied Starbuck. "There isn't. Whatever it was, it left no trace in the data. As though..." He shrugged. "As if it never happened," said Apollo. "Or, as if who, or whatever, was responsible, does not wish for us to know what really happened," said Sargamesh. "Our scanners confirm," said Baltar, over the Fleet Comm-line, to Adama. "No sign of the planet, or any debris." "What is your vessel status?" asked Adama. "Except for a few blown circuits, we are fully operational. Several Centurions were temporarily immobilized, but they quickly recovered." "What about the long-range transmitter?" The Fleet's ability to communicate with the Pegasus depended entirely on the long-range transmitter and receiver on Baltar's ship. "Undamaged. However, as we need to make maximum use of our power to fully effect even these minor repairs, I would advise no transmissions for the time being." "Agreed," Adama nodded. "We have no crew issues here, either. Although we have lost contact with the shuttle we launched to the station. We'll keep you posted." "Understood," said Baltar, and the signal was cut. "I don't understand this," said Tigh. "How could a whole planet just vanish? According to all our scans, there's nothing. No debris, no random energy signatures, nothing. And no sign of the shuttle, and no answer to our hails." He looked at a monitor. "Shall we launch a patrol, sir?" "I..." began Adama, when Rigel's voice cut through. "Commander! Commander! Colonel!" "Yes, what is it Rigel?" replied Adama. "It isn't the planet that has moved, sir! It's us!" "How in God's name is that possible?" asked Adama, later in the Ward Room. "I do not know, sir," said Rigel. "But it is we who have changed our position in space." She put a graphic up on the holo-display. "We have moved over five-hundred light-yahrens, from where we were." "Five hundred?" said Tigh. "That's impossible!" "Yet, it has happened," Adama reminded him. "Yes, sir," said Rigel. "Astrometric readings show that we, the entire Fleet that is..." "All ships are accounted for?" he interjected. The last thing he needed to deal with was the possibility of more than just a missing shuttle. "Yes, sir. But we have shifted our position in space by exactly five-hundred and nine point three light-yahrens." "My God," said Tigh. "That means our shuttle crew..." "Is marooned in that solar system," said Adama. He was quiet a moment, then sighed. "Get me Baltar." "Sir, other ships are calling in. Commander Byrne on the Constellation. Commander Allen on the Adelaide. Captain Janus on the Century. They want to know what's happened," said Tigh. "What do we tell them?" "The truth, which is all we have, Colonel. But, get me Baltar." "Still nothing?" asked Apollo. "Nothing, sir," replied Hummer. "I've run twenty full scan cycles, on every wavelon we have. Nothing." "And we are continuing to broadcast a distress signal to the Galactica," added Sargamesh. "So far, no response." "This is crazy," said Starbuck. "How in Hades Hole could the entire Fleet just disappear, without a trace? This makes no sense." "It does to someone," said Apollo. "Someone, or something is behind all this. This is no natural phenomenon. And right now, the only answers we have are there." He pointed towards the huge, dark station. "Is that wise?" asked Wilker. "If...they, or it, or whatever, are responsible for the Fleet, what could they do to us?" "We will learn nothing just sitting here," replied Sargamesh. "Events have preceded us, Doctor. Action is called for, and right now, investigating that station, and perhaps the planet as well, is the only course of action reasonably open to us at this time, if we ever hope to return to our comrades." "He's right," said Apollo. He looked from his crew, to the monstrous station orbiting silently in the darkness. "Let's go." "Patrol reporting in," said Omega, turning to Colonel Tigh. "Nothing, sir. No sign of the Fleet, and no other ships or planets within range of their patrol circuit." "ETA return to the Fleet?" "Voice com range in fourteen centons, Colonel." "Very well, Omega. Keep me advised." "Sir." "Okay, so what do we do? Go up and knock?" said Starbuck, as they maneuvered the shuttle close to what looked like a landing bay on the alien station. Unlike those on Colonial warships, it was sealed by a gigantic hatch, similar to those aboard Cylon BaseShips. There were no lights, or power signatures in evidence. "I doubt it would help," said Hummer, scanning the construction. Data scrolled up his screen. The station's size, mass, and materials analysis. "As far as I can scan, there is no life aboard at all." "What can you discern?" asked Apollo. "I read...tylinium, cupric, iron, nickel, and other metals in her construction. There are also alloys that do not correspond to anything known to us." "Is it habitable?" asked Sargamesh. "I read atmosphere," replied Hummer, "but she's cold. Not indication of heat, nor artificial gravity in operation. I read no sign of any sort of damage anywhere. Just no power whatsoever." "Well, we have to find a way in," said Apollo. "Sargamesh is correct. The only answers we're likely to find are inside there." "Granted," said Starbuck. "But how? She's buttoned up tighter than a beauratician's..." He stopped, as Apollo glared at him. "Uh... bank vault, Captain. Even if you're right, how the Hades Hole do we get inside?" Well, first..." began Apollo, when an indicator on the panel began to flicker. Almost at once, lights on the surface of the vast station began to come up. The shuttle vibrated, as a pale, greenish-white ray of light reached out, enveloping the shuttle. "Report!" "Some kind of tractor," said Starbuck. "We have stopped moving," said Sargamesh. He adjusted the engine controls, but the shuttle refused to budge. He throttled back, and the sound of the engines subsided. "We're stuck tight," said Apollo. He looked across his instruments, then up at the viewports. "What in..." "Ghosts with tractor beams. I think we're in trouble," said Starbuck. Chapter Three "This is what we know, so far," said Adama, in the Ward Room. The table was graced with a holodisplay of the region. "Here is where we encountered the planet." He indicated a flashing dot. "Directly in our flight path. Scans and patrols have filled in part of this region." He shifted the angle of view, and brought up their current location. "As you can see, our present position is at an angle of forty degrees off our previous course." "Forty degrees?" said Sheba, sitting next to Tigh. "That's incredible." "Any clue as to how?" asked Baltar, on hololink from the BaseShip. "Nothing definite, so far," replied Adama. He gestured to Rigel. "Much of this is still theoretical and fragmentary," began Rigel. "Repeated scans of the sensor logs have detected a powerful, but extremely brief, pulse of energy that hit the Fleet, at the very moment we experienced the shaking and disorientation." She put up a graph, filled with lines and squiggles. "The pulse blinded many of our recording devices, and seems to have had an almost selective ability to...well, to reset many of our systems." She noticed Baltar knodding. The Cylon ship had experienced much the same. "How brief?" asked Colonel Tigh. "Less than one one-thousandth of a micron." "Anything else?" asked Doctor Salik, ship's Chief Life Officer. "Well, yes," said Rigel, clearly uncomfortable with having to theorize with so little data. "But I'm not certain what it means." "Just go on," said Tigh. "You're doing fine." Rigel saw Omega smile at her, which immediately made her relax. The two had recently found the courage to finally reveal their true feelings to each other. "It seems, and I emphasize seems, that the entire Fleet was hit, or bathed, in a powerful wash of energy. We think it was this that has left our data in such a tangle, sir." "What sort of energy?" asked Adama. "That's just it," said Rigel. "Repeated computron analysis cannot give us meaningful or definitive results. We are not even certain just how powerful it was. It is almost like staring into a sun with your naked eyes. However, there is a slight, very slight, energy resonance trace, in the hull of the Galactica. It matches what little we have on the energy that enveloped the Fleet." "Our people detected something similar here," said Baltar. "An energy resonance that does not correspond with any type known to us." "Anything else?" asked Adama. "Well, with Doctor Wilker and his chief aide gone," said Rigel, "we are making use of the reactivated IL, Septimus, for his analytical abilities. "Is that wise?" asked Adama. "We need a...different look at this, sir," replied Rigel. "And he has proven to be of value in the past. Bojay's surgery, as you recall. Anything to augment our..." "Main science lab to Ward Room," came a voice. "Yes?" asked Adama, touching the pad "This is Septimus, Commander. I have completed my analysis for Rigel." "Understood." Adama looked at Rigel, and knodded. She pressed a few keys, and watched as data scrolled up her screen. "Something wrong?" he asked her. "I'm not sure, Commander. Are you completely certain of the results, Septimus?" "Absolutely, Rigel. I have run the analyses through both my main and back-up processors several times, in conjunction with the Galactica's main computer system. Given the paucity of the data that I have, the results are certain, to within a tolerance of ninety-four point six one eight percent." "Thank-you, Septimus." She clicked off. "Sounds pretty close," said Tigh. "Well?" asked Adama. "The closest analog to what happened to us, the nearest similarity to what we have detected, is matter transport energy, sir." "Matter transport?" said Sheba. "You mean like one of those transport machines? Like we got from the Zykonians?" "Yes." "That's...that's unbelievable!" said Sheba. "The whole Fleet, to that sort of distance?" "How could this happen?" asked Adama. "I do not know, sirs. Ma'am," said Rigel. "The energy requirements alone, especially factoring in the mass of the entire Fleet, are staggering to contemplate. But somehow, we, that is the entire Fleet, have been beamed over five-hundred light-yahrens across space." "My God," said Tigh, quietly. "It's taken over our onboard computer," said Apollo, as the shuttle was drawn closer to the vast construction. He tried several controls, even so far as to try a complete systems shutdown and re-initialization. It had no effect. "Nothing works." They watched, as the shuttle was drawn in, to at last pass through a hatchway that opened at their approach. They were guided in, and then set down on a deck. The hatchway closed, and the bean released them. "Captain?" asked Sargamesh. "Main power is back up. But no engines. It seems we are stuck here for now." "Captain," said Hummer, pointing. Apollo looked up. Across the bay, a smaller hatchway was opening." "And I read atmosphere and gravity out there," said Wilker. "Oxygen-nitrogen, and the temperature is climbing." "I guess this is all the invitation we're going to get," said Apollo, after trying all standard hails. As before, all he got back was dead air, on every channel. "Do we accept?" said Starbuck, indicating the opened hatchway. "Doesn't look like we have much of a choice, Starbuck," replied the Captain. "Father?" said Athena, that evening, as the Commander entered her and Boomer's quarters. A bit to his surprise, Sheba was there as well, little Bethany on her lap. She moved to rise, but he waved them back. "Anything new, Commander?" asked Sheba. "Nothing. I've been going over every starchart and scanner report we have, including what the BaseShip has as well, and there is no data whatsoever on this region of space. Even what we have from the Ziklagoio, the Zykonians, and the Risik, is blank." "Have you notified Mother about what's happened?" Athena asked. Her father shook his head. "We can't afford to let Baltar's ship waste power on transmitting just now, and even if we could, I don't think we should put your Mother through any anxiety about Apollo. Not when we haven't yet exhausted all our options for finding the shuttle and getting them back." He then skipped a beat. "How's Cassiopeia bearing up?" "She told us not to worry about her," Sheba said. "She's working a double shift in the Life Station to take her mind off it." "That's brave of her. Of course.....we all have to stay focused. That's the only thing we can do when we have a situation like this involving loved ones." "What have you decided?" asked Sheba. "What's our next step?" "Well, we are almost through with the inspections and diagnostics of every ship in the Fleet. So far, everything seems functional and undamaged. Once that is done, I intend to head back towards that system." "Five hundred light-yahrens?" his daughter-in-law lifted an eyebrow. "That's a long haul, Commander." "I'm certain Apollo and the rest are trying to find us, Father," said Athena. "I agree. And of course, I want to retrieve them." "But there's more," said Athena, recognizing "that look" in her father's eyes. "Isn't there?" "Yes," he smiled, as always proud of her analytical skills, the quickness with which she picked up on such minutiae. "There is. And if I'm correct, our journey may be over, sooner than we had hoped." "You have a plan," said Sheba. "Oh yes. A long-shot, to be sure. But yes." "What is it, Commander?" The bay in which the shuttle had been set was, by the standards of Colonial shipbuilding, small. There was room for perhaps two more shuttles, rather than the cavernous Alpha and Beta bays of a Battlestar. Still, these folks had been no slouches as shipwrights, Starbuck had to admit. "Anything?" he asked Wilker, as the scientist and his aid studied an instrument panel, a few metrons from the shuttle. "Not so far, Lieutenant," replied Wilker, as he and Hummer probed the machinery with their equipment. "In fact..." Zzzzzzzzzhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmzzzzzwwwwwoooossshhhh............. "Well that worked," said Starbuck, as the hatchway in front of them swooshed open. "Seemingly so," said Sargamesh, behind him. Starbuck and Apollo moved to enter, but the Zohrloch prevented them. "Sir," he said, and moved into the chamber, weapon at the ready. After a few microns, he called out: "All clear, sir" "Thank-you," said Apollo. "You didn't really think there was anyone in there, did you?" asked Starbuck, as he passed the Zohrloch, still tensed and alert. "Well, none of you would be asking that question, if you were dead," he replied, with that infuriating non-smile smile he had. "Cheery," muttered Starbuck, and they moved on in. "All ships report ready, sir," said Omega, at his station. "Baltar?" "Cylon BaseShip also reports ready, Commander." "Very well," said Adama. "Helm, bring us around. Set course for the planet." "Course laid in, sir." "Execute." Slowly, yet with a lithe grace, the vast Colonial warship began to move, describing an arc in space as she found her new heading. Slowly, she began the long journey, her fleet of charges taking up positions behind her. "On course, Commander," said Omega. "Maximum available speed, Omega." "Maximum, sir." "Steady as she goes, helm." "Steady as she goes, sir." Chapter Four "This is incredible," said Wilker, as they passed through the immense chamber. The bulkheads were lined will row upon row of gargantuan machinery. Panels, screens, and control mechanisms that looked to be beyond anything they were the least bit familiar with, ranging from small pads of keys, to vast collections of conduits and trunks. "I have never seen anything like this," said Apollo. He looked over at Sargamesh. "You?" "No, sir. Not on Eridu, not on any world known to us." He ran a scanner over a bank of machinery. "I am reading transient energy signatures, sir. Something is functioning, somewhere. Producing energy. Yet..." "Yet nothing here seems to be active," said Hummer. "Precisely," replied the other. "Well, that door didn't just open all on its own," said Starbuck. "And there is gravity, here. And breathable air, too. Something is working. Somewhere." "There must be an active intelligence of some sort, functioning aboard this station," said Wilker. "Artificial?" asked Apollo. "You mean similar to the Cylons?" replied the scientist. "Yes, it is possible I suppose, although I would not have thought a station this huge could be run by such. Still..." he shrugged. "Until we actually find out..." "We will not know," said Sargamesh. "Well, all I really want to know is how to get back to the Fleet," said Starbuck. "Being permanently stuck here isn't a happy prospect." "Well, there is the planet," suggested Sargamesh, dryly. "A real cheery dump, from what I saw," said Starbuck. "The garden spot of the Star System." "But with a greater chance for survival over the long term, Lieutenant." "I suppose," replied Starbuck, though he sounded unconvinced. "Do you ever think there will come a time when we can hope for more than just survival? Like maybe figuring a way to get home? I've got someone I just made a life-long commitment to, waiting for me!" Apollo knodded, briefly clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I hear ya, Buddy. I feel the same way." "Thanks." "Ah!" said Hummer, as a sound filled the room, and a hatchway at the opposite end suddenly opened up. Beyond, a long corridor seemed to trail off, vanishing into the distance. "Well," said Apollo, after scanning in that direction, "shall we?" "Let's," said Starbuck. "Oh yes, let's!" "Incredible technology," said Baltar, looking up from his data pad, and across the table at his wife. "Excuse me?" Ayesha replied. "To hurl the entire fleet over five-hundred light-yahrens, in a matter of microns." He shook his head. "That sounds like something that the ancient Kobollians were said to be capable of." "Well, perhaps it was built by them, Baltar," she replied after a moment. He looked up at her, and she smiled slightly. "Well, it certainly is a possibility, is it not?" "Seriously? You really believe in the old legends, Yesh?" He was using an old nick-name for her, more and more often, of late, and Ayesha found it warming. "Well, so many of the old tales have turned out to be true. Finding Kobol, itself, for one thing, much as The Book Of The Word described. Then that bizarre weather planet. Our communications with the Pegasus is based on ancient Kobollian technology. Other bits and pieces." "Hhmm. Well, I give you that. It is true, the universe is full of more mysteries and wonders than we can ever imagine. But a whole planet, and that station, and the transition to wherever we were sent? I don't know." He set down his pad, and frowned. "What I wonder is why whatever, or whoever, it was, did not just destroy us. They, or whatever force is was, certainly could have, given the power they displayed." "Well, they wanted to keep us away from the planet, obviously. But, perhaps they were pacifistic." Ayesha considered a moment. "After all, not everyone in the universe is like the Cylons, or the Risik. Not every race has a compunction to conquer or destroy." "Quite true, yes," replied Baltar. "I'm sure that Adama would have some...spiritual or mystical take on it all. As he so often does." "And who knows, he just might be right," replied Ayesha, with just the hint of a smile. "Advanced technology does not automatically mean a jettisoning of the spiritual." "Perhaps," said Baltar, and grew quiet. "All ships report operating normally, Commander," reported Tigh, to Adama, on the bridge. "The Fleet is now at maximum common speed." "Scans?" "All clear, Commander. The space ahead of us is clear, as far as we can scan." "Order Constellation to move ahead of the Fleet, on point. Adelaide and Century port and starboard. Full possible scans and patrols." "Yes, sir, " replied Tigh. "Orders transmitted, Commander." "Excellent, Colonel. Steady as she goes." "Steady as she goes, Commander." As they moved further and further into the station, it seemed to be made up more and more of gigantic coils, and massive stacks of cables and conduits that filled entire rooms. Rooms, some of them, the size of landing bays. Or even larger. "Unbelievable," said Wilker, as the progressed. "The amount of sheer power that could be generated here." "Enough to transport the entire fleet?" asked Apollo. "I...I don't know," replied Wilker. "Since there is no sign of debris, that's my preliminary take. Yes, that this station, somehow, removed the fleet from the area." "But why?" asked Hummer. "We were not threatening anyone or anything." "Who knows how an alien intelligence might interpret our actions," said Sagamesh. "It is hubris to assume that they would see things as we do." "They seemed plain enough to me," said the technician. "Were they? Suppose, Technician, I were to draw a blade, and move towards you. Now, what am I doing?" "Well, moving to attack me, I would guess." "Am I? Or am I handing you a blade to be used as an eating utensil? Or a tool to loosen something? Or to defend yourself? Or merely to show off a prized item? You see?" "Y.....es," said Hummer, after a moment. "It could be misconstrued, depending upon someone's preconceptions. Drawing the wrong conclusion." "And, however vast it's intelligence, the conclusions might be wrong. It is entirely possible that the intelligence that controls this station misunderstood our intentions, and, upon seeing a fleet of heavily armed vessels, reacted in accordance with its still-operating programming. Programming of which we know virtually nothing." "Makes sense to me," said Starbuck. "So, how do we convince this intelligence that we mean no harm, and get it to let us go, or return to the Fleet, or both." "That, I must admit, I have no answer for, Starbuck," replied the Zohrloch. "Well, hopefully, we'll get some," said Apollo. "Come on." "I..." began Starbuck, when, for an instant, they were blinded. Blinded by an intense light that seemed to infuse the whole chamber. For an instant, they were overwhelmed by an intense, ripping sound. A sound like... Then it was gone. "Commander?" said Tigh. "Yes, I saw them. I wonder...is it them?" "Again?" said Athena, almost too softly to hear. "I don't know. Omega?" "Nothing, Colonel. We're not getting any meaningful returns on the scanners. Nothing to lock on to." "Just like before," said Adama. "What shall we do, Commander?" asked Tigh. "The question is, Tigh, what can we do. After all, compared to them..." "Commander," said Athena. "Baltar is calling." "Lords preserve us," sighed Adama. Then, castigating himself for that thought, said "Put him on, Athena." They have found the planet and the station. It was inevitable. It lies along the course that was given to them. They could use it to reach Earth much more quickly. That cannot be. They have much yet to do, and it would upset much. They should not have found it. But if we prevent it, would we not be interfering in the natural unfolding of their existence? And if others were to find it? The Cylons, or the Ziklagoio. Iblis. Even the Risiik. Much evil could come from it. This cannot be. Either way, we interject ourselves. Interference cannot be entirely avoided. Even we cannot see all ends. But it is not their destiny to find this technology. Its continued existence could change everything. Alter destinies. None are ready for it. Yes. We must consult The Wisdom. Yes. Greater than ourselves will know how to proceed. Then let us do so. Prepare yourselves. Chapter Five "It's them, again!" said Starbuck, reflexively reaching for his sidearm. "What the Hades Hole do they want now?" "I don't think that's going to help much," said Apollo, gesturing toward Starbuck's weapon. "Yeah," said the other, letting his weapon slide back into it's holster. "Good point. If Boomer and a squadron of Vipers couldn't do much..." "Precisely," said Apollo. "And who, precisely, are...they?" asked Sargamesh. He, of course, had not been aboard the Fleet, when they had first encountered these... Whatever they were. "They are...intelligences, of some sort," Apollo began. "From The Ship of Lights." "The what?" asked the Zohrloch. He looked from one to the other. Ship of Lights? I have not heard of this." "An encounter we had, shortly after fleeing the Colonies," said Apollo. He gave the other a brief sketch of those events. "And so they have now returned?" "Looks that way," replied the Captain. "So, what do we do, Captain Apollo?" asked Hummer. "Back to the shuttle, first off," said Apollo, after a moment. As he spoke, more of the shimmering spheres blazed through the space outside. "Let's go!" "The what?" asked Rigel, on the bridge of the Galactica. "Again?" "That's what it looks like," said Omega. "Present scans match those in the sensor logs. They are here, we just can't lock onto them long enough to get anything meaningful, Commander." "At their speed, there is no way that we could," said Adama, studying a readout. It was basically garbage. "As you said before, Colonel, they are traveling at speeds beyond our comprehension." "But what do they want?" Tigh scowled. "Are we going to see...him, again?" "If you mean Count Iblis, I don't know," said Adama, shaking his head. He knew from Ila that Iblis had only recently been at work tormenting the Pegasus crew, and Cain, and that he had failed. It was certainly possible he might redirect his attention to the Galactica in the wake of that defeat. "By all the Lords of Kobol, I certainly hope not. I think that we have all had quite our fill of Count Iblis, chaos take him forever!" "Amen to that!" said Tigh "Commander," said Athena. "Incoming signal from the Adelaide. The...whatever they are have surrounded them." She listened to her headphone a moment longer. "Same from both Constellation and Century, sir." "What are they..."began Tigh. "It is Baltar again, on the Fleet Comm-Line," called Athena. "Right on time," said Adama, and nodded at his daughter. "What is the Name of all the Lords..." began Hummer, as soon as the shuttle's hatch was secured. Once more, a light, blinding and saturating, from seemingly no discreet source, enveloped them. "I..." began Apollo, as the craft began to shake. "Captain, look!" said Sargamesh, pointing towards the windows. They were no longer aboard the station. They were no longer in space, at all. "We're on the surface?" said Wilker, checking his instruments. As quickly as it had come, the light was gone, leaving them only normal internal illumination inside the shuttle. "So it would appear," said Apollo, checking the instruments as well. "We've been transported off the station, to the surface." "But is it the same planet?" asked Sargamesh. "Given what happened before..." "Good point," said Apollo. He ran through the scan logs. "According to the scans, yes. This is the same planet we've been orbiting. All parameters match, and the star pattern is the same." "So, we're down on the surface,' said Starbuck. "Now what?" "That is up to whomever is controlling this," said Apollo. "While the planet matches, a lot of data is missing or corrupted." He held up the scanner. "Erased." He gestured at the console in front of him. "Same here, too." "Well, what say we see if we can get back into orbit," said Starbuck. "Right. Firing thrusters," said Apollo. Click Silence "Trying again," said Apollo. "No response," said Sargamesh. "Engines read as dead, Captain." "Great," said Starbuck. "Now we're on the planet, with no more clue as to how to get home than before. Plus we can't take off." "Then we must seek more information," said Wilker. "The atmosphere of this planet reads as oxygen-nitrogen. Breathable, though the pressure is slightly lower than we are used to." "Then we won't need our breathers?" "No. The oxygen is sufficient, Captain." "Any signs of life?" asked Starbuck? "Inhabitants?" "Not so far," said Hummer, running sweeps. "No indication of biological activity, of any sort, including bacterial or viral scans. Except for ourselves, I read nothing outside of the ship." "First, we're going to have a look at the engines," said Apollo, and headed aft. "Starbuck?" "Coming, Captain." "Report," said Command Centurion Moray, at his post in the Control Center of the BaseShip. "By your command," replied the scan officer, Centurion Veroculus. "Unidentified alien objects are now englobing the entire Fleet. All patrol craft report unable to close with them. Scans correlate with those of the earlier encounter in the logs." "Ship's status?" "All systems report functioning normally. No damage or malfunctions indicated." "Understood. Recall all probe craft, and continue scanning." Moray turned to another Centurion. "Contact Commander Baltar, and open a channel to the Galactica." "By your command." "Lords of Kobol," said Apollo, as they stepped out onto the surface. After almost two centars, they had been unable to get any response from the shuttles engines. "Nothing is wrong," said Hummer, handing a tool back to Sargamesh. "And nothing works," replied the Zohrloch "Cheery locale," said Starbuck, as they took in the alien vista before them. They were in a wide valley, with a range of hills far on the horizon to their right. Based on the planet's direction of rotation, and magnetic field, that was "east". It was cool, with a gentle breeze blowing from the direction of the far-off hills. Above, the sky was a hard blue, with a yellow-white sun burning down through the azure vault. On the "western" horizon, the planet's major moon was setting. But of life, they saw scant sign. Gullies bespoke periods of rain, and from the degree of axial inclination, the seasonal variations were close to what they knew back home. But of life, there were no obvious indications at all. No plants, no animals, nothing except a keening sound to the wind. "Isn't it?" said Hummer, bending down to run soil through his fingers. It was fine, slightly sandy, and from the close-up scans, void even of bacteria. "This soil is rich in minerals and compounds that plants need, but the micro organisms needed to grow healthy plants are absent." "Absent?" asked Apollo. "Yes. Soil bacteria are very important in biogeochemical cycles, sir. Plant-bacterial interactions in the rhizosphere are the determinants of plant health and soil fertility. Without microbes, plants wouldn't have the constant supply of nutrients they need to grow. Beyond nutrient cycling, microbes produce hormones and other chemicals to stimulate plant growth. They supply nutrients to crops, stimulate plant growth through the production of plant hormones, control the activity of plant pathogens, and generally improve soil structure. That, and the bioaccumulation or microbial leaching of inorganics, not to mention vermiforms..." "We get the picture," said Starbuck, who sensed another of the technician's techno-babble orgies in the making. The man loved his work, and could pontificate ad infinitum, if allowed to. "No bugs, no plants. Can't say I mind the former. At least I won't have to worry about something crawling on me in the middle of the night." "Basically," said Hummer, disappointed at not being able to continue. "The soil is basically...well, sleeping." "Sleeping?" asked Apollo. "It's potential is in suspension, as it were," said Wilker. "From our preliminary scans, this valley could potentially be incredibly rich agroland. Or forest. Or ranchland. All it needs is the right trigger, the final part in the machine, as it were, to begin the cycle." "Any idea why?" asked Apollo. "What killed off the bacteria?" "I don't think anything was killed off, Captain," replied the Chief Scientist. "This soil reminds me of some of the soil simulants created in the early days of space exploration. What we expected to find on other worlds. It's as though...well, as if all the ingredients aren't there, yet." "Ingredients?" said Starbuck. "Sounds like dinner." "Soil is an incredibly complex substance, Lieutenant," said Wilker. "And no two planets, indeed no two parts of the same planet, are exactly alike. This soil, indeed this whole planet, looks as if it were constructed." "Constructed?" said Apollo. "You mean, it's artificial?" "I don't...well, it very well could be. Our scans show a hydrological cycle, tides in the seas from the gravitational influence of this planet's moon, as well as lakes and rivers. But it strikes me as oddly incomplete." "As if whoever was...building it, never completed the project." "Exactly." "Someone builds planets?" asked Starbuck. "That's kind of stretching it, isn't it?" "So far, we have encountered phenomena, and technology, that are beyond us, and which we cannot explain," replied Wilker. "Recall the Weather Planet, where the environment was sustained by technology well beyond our present capabilities. It is not beyond consideration that someone, some race, possesses, or once possessed, the ability to artificially construct planets." "That's crazy," said Starbuck. "I mean come on." "I am open to other options," said Wilker, who always found Starbuck to be a bit...wearying. "As yet, we don't have any, Lieutenant." "Okay, so the planet is artificial," said Starbuck. "How do we survive here, then? Our emergency rations in the shuttle won't last forever." "But we do have water," said Sargamesh. "Scans show that there is a vast aquifer, underlying this valley, and in places it is fairly shallow. There is a river, approximately ten kilometrons in that direction." He pointed. "And we may be able to find springs." "And there is a storm building, over those mountains," said Hummer, pointing towards the distant range. "We shall not lack for rainfall." Booooom went the sky, and a few drops were carried their way on the wind. "Anyone bring an umbrella?" asked Starbuck. Chapter Six The Word has been given. It is decided. Our path is plain, then. The Humans? All will be as it was. Their life paths will resume. They will continue. Then let us proceed. All is in readiness. Let us begin. Chapter Seven "Commander!" said Omega, at his station on the bridge. "Yes?" "Our speed is increasing, sir." "Increasing?" said Adama, moving to a monitor. "Yes, sir. Our speed is up fourteen points and rising." "Cut all engines," said the Commander. "Full reverse on all thrusters.' "No response, sir," said Omega, after inputing the command. "Our velocity is still increasing. The same with the BaseShip." "Commander, we're getting reports from other ships experiencing the same thing!" Athena reported, the urgency rising in her tone. "Captain Demeter on the Agro-Ship says they're way past their top speed. Commander Byrne's reporting the same thing on the Constellation. And the Rising Star and Celestra as well." "What in..." began Tigh, when the space around them was once more filled with the whining blue spheres. "Contact Baltar," ordered Adama. "Sir," said Athena. It was the same with the Cylons. Speed was increasing, and there was nothing the engineers could seem to do to change that. Every ship in the Fleet was speeding up, yet remained in the same relative positions to each other, as before. Like the warships, they were helpless to reduce velocity, yet their engine output was totally unchanged. "Course?" "Back to the planet, sir," said Omega. "Our course has not changed, but our speed is almost off the dial, Commander." "No Colonial ship has ever achieved this sort of speed," said Tigh, reading the data scrolling up in front of him. "Not even in field tests. It should be tearing us apart, Commander. The stresses on the hull." "But it isn't," said Adama. He pointed to another readout. "Ship's structural stress readings are well within acceptable tolerances, Colonel. And our engines are still at the same output as before. Both primary and secondary manifold pressures and temperatures are unchanged." "That should not be possible," said the Colonel, after studying the readouts. "At this speed, they should be screaming, Commander." "But, apparently, it is, Tigh," replied Adama. "Engines or no. And it's not affecting any of the other ships in the Fleet either. Theoretically, they should be more vulnerable than we are to this kind of stress, and yet.......all two hundred plus of them are still with us, perfectly intact." "It's incredible," the Executive Officer could think of nothing else to say, "What do we do?" "The only thing that we can do for the present, old friend," said Adama. "Nothing." The sudden storm broke, and the landing party retreated into the shuttle. While the rain pelted the ship, they ran scan after scan. Nothing about the meteorological event registered as out of the ordinary. It conformed to well-understood weather models, and soon many small rivulets and side washes were running with water. "So, how long does this last, I wonder?" asked Starbuck, cracking out a few ration bars, and offering them to his comrades. "It will last as long as it lasts," said Sargamesh. "One cannot command the sky." "You have an interesting way of looking at things," said Wilker. "Is this typical of your people's philosophic outlook, Lieutenant?" "It serves us," replied Sargamesh, with a slight bow of the head. "After all, what is, is. Though I admit, rain is a rare treat, on Eridu." "Well, I admit I'd feel better if this planet had some sort of life on it," said Starbuck. Hummer knodded. "Break the monotony, anyway." "Could we live here, if we had to?" asked Apollo, looking at both scientists. "Could this planet support us?" "There's a slim chance," said Wilker, after a few moment's consideration. "We could dump the unrecycled waste products from the shuttle's tanks. The sealed food items in the ration packs do contain seeds for some of the fruits and vegetables, although I don't know how viable they might be. I would need to run some tests, Captain. A lot of them, in fact. But no guarantees." "Well, best to get started," said Apollo. "If we are going to get stuck here, no sense in our wasting any time." "I agree," said Wilker, and headed aft. "Still nothing?" asked Baltar, aboard the BaseShip. "Nothing," replied Moray. "No action has resulted in a reduction in ship's velocity." "And the ship?" "All stress factors well within normal tolerances," said the Command Centurion. "Hull integrity nominal." "But it should not be. Not at this kind of speed," said Baltar. "Engine output has not changed, yet our speed has continued to increase." "That...that's impossible," replied Baltar. "Yet it is so. I have no explanation, Commander Baltar." "Very good Moray," said Baltar. "No blame attaches to you or any of the crew." "By your command." "Planetary system ahead, Commander," said Omega. "Just coming into scanner range, now." "ETA, Omega?" "At our current speed...less than one hundred and twenty centons to system heliopause, Commander." "Any change in speed?" "None, sir. Everything still reads the same as before. All other ships are still with us." "I see. Thank you, Omega." Adama turned to Athena. "Try and contact the shuttle, Athena." "Yes, sir." "What do they want?" asked Starbuck, of no one in particular, as the blue spheres once more sang through the air about them. The rain was still falling, though gentler now, and there were breaks in the cloud cover, but as with everything else, it seemed to have no affect on the...whatever they were. "You got me," said Apollo. "But I'll bet a secton's pay on your latest foolproof system that they are behind this. Our being here, the Fleet disappearing. All of it." "You're on," said Starbuck. "I do not like this," said Sargamesh, watching the luminosities tear through the sky. "I have to admit that I prefer knowing exactly who it is that I am dealing with. Be they friend, or foe, come out and declare themselves, and do not hide behind...whatever that is." He gestured vaguely towards the spheres. "I gotta agree with you," said Starbuck. "I need an enemy I can shoot at. These guys don't even make it a challenge." "But are they our enemy?" asked Hummer, down on the ground running a soil test. So far, the introduced microorganisms seemed to like, or at least tolerate, this alien soil. "I mean really.What makes you so sure that they are?" "How can you ask that?" said Sargamesh. He looked upwards again. The rain had stopped, and the sun was beginning to come out. "These things..." "But they haven't harmed us," shot back Hummer. "If they wanted to attack or kill us, I doubt there is much we could do to stop them." He looked up as more of the blue spheres rushed past, then back down to his work. "Even so..." began Sargamesh. He broke off, as the blue spheres vanished, along with the whining sound they made. Within a heartbeat, the spheres were gone, leaving only clouds, and a keening wind behind them. "Now what?" asked Starbuck. "You're asking me?" replied Apollo. "This is...just not possible," said Adama, as the Fleet began to slow. Within the space of a single breath, they had gone from a speed they could barely calculate, to dropping out of lightspeed. All about them, the other ships were doing the same. And like the Galactica, none showed any sign of undue structural stress or damage from the incredibly abrupt transition, regardless of their classification. Almost at once, the Galactica's comm center was jammed with calls from the rest of the Fleet. As before, Adama had no answers for them. "But there it is," said Athena. There, directly ahead of them, was the planet from which they had so mysteriously departed. Above it, glinting like a jewel in the sun, was the vast space station, it's metal and windows reflecting the light of the star in a thousand different directions. "Our scanners are clearing, Commander," said Omega, running checks on his instruments. "Instruments confirm. It is the same planet, sir." "Scan for the shuttle. Athena, hail the shuttle." "Yes, Commander." She reached for the panel...the panel...what... What... What... Yes.... "....y..y..y..yes, Colonel, what have we got?" requested Commander Adama, as he moved up to his bridge station. "We're not quite certain, sir," replied Colonel Tigh. He gestured to one of the monitors. "We have a report from Blue Squadron, of a solar system almost directly in our flight path, but, well..." "Yes?" "But we cannot confirm, sir," said Tigh. "According to the ship's scanners, there's nothing." Tigh motioned to Omega, and the scans were run again. Twice. But nothing. "I see. Colonel, have a complete diagnostic series run on our scanners and their interlocking computers. The same with the Vipers. And I want to talk to those pilots when they land." "Yes, sir." "We'll track this down." He turned to leave the bridge, Tigh's voice following him. "Where will you be, Commander?" asked the XO. For a long moment, Adama had no answer for him. Chapter Eight "Good morning, Commander," said Colonel Tigh, as Adama logged in for duty. "Here's the relief shift's report, sir." He handed Adama a pad, and the Commander perused it, nodding after a few moments. "Very good," he said, signing off in approval. He watched as the night crew logged off, and were replaced by their "daytime" counterparts. "Scanners?" "All clear, sir," said Omega. "Nothing ahead of us." "All commlines clear, Commander," reported Athena. "No sign of any traffic, whatsoever." "Excellent," replied her father. "And nothing from Baltar, yet, either," she added. "Also excellent," Adama replied, with an almost invisible smile. Adama settled in to his shift, burying himself in the day-to-day of command. Fuel consumption reports. Disciplinary hearing in the ranks set for later today. A brawl on the Rising Star, over a pyramid match. Maintenance reports on several of the ships. Two ship's Captains requesting to see him. A... A private message for him, from Baltar. The traitor-turned-ally wished to speak to him over a secure channel. Strange. Something was wrong, Command Centurion Moray's inner processor told him. There was a discrepancy in his chronometers. He ran the data through his processors for almost the thousandth time, in the last few microns, but the results were still unsatisfactory. Somewhere, somehow, they had lost time. True it was barely anything. Scarcely a fiftieth of a micron out of sync with the ship's main chrono. But it was an unknown. An unresolved question. And Moray hated unresolved questions, in as much as any Cylon of his class and programming could actually hate anything. After all, like all of them, from the Imperious Leader himself down to the lowest ranking functionary just off the assembly line, all Cylons were programmed to seek full resolution, datawise, to whatever they encountered. He would run the data through again. Then, if that did no good, perhaps... On the Galactica's bridge, Rigel reviewed the data collected by the Battlestar's scanners during the last cycle, for collation and storage. Stars, spatial phenomena, astral bodies encountered, energy spikes of all types, even... What by all the Lords is that? I don't remember this... Interesting, said former IL Series Cylon commander Septimus. Still in his semi-dismantled state, he could not go about the ship, but he could access many of the systems and data streams, here in Doctor Wilker's lab. He had been updating his files on the progress of his one-time patient, Bojay, upon whom he had, in a first in Colonial medical history, performed major prosthetic surgery. While doing so, something had rippled through his systems. A tiny wave of...what? He did not know, despite repeated analyses by his processors. He attempted to access and compare with the computer here in the lab... But I have not been inactive for any length of time, he told himself. I do not understand! And then.....his mind thought back to a conversation he'd had with Wilker on the night first contact with the Pegasus had been made. About a subject he seldom gave much thought about. The subject of...The Makers. For a brief instant, the IL Cylon could feel his mind reconnecting with previously unknown parts of his deep memory. Making him recall things...... Is it possible? But before Septimus's mind could fully address that question, the connection to those hidden parts of deep memory abruptly ceased. Aboard the Empyrean vessel, Malocchio, Ama sat, quietly contemplating the mystery before her. Someone had tried to erase both time, and her memory, from existence. This was...unsettling. But, despite her dislocation, she remembered the recent past. The strange lights, the blue spheres, the... By all the elements! They have been here! She lifted the telecom near her seat, and for a moment hesitated. Shaking her head, she at last pressed in a code. "Son Starbuck? I must see you." Far away, in orbit around a lone and empty world, the huge station began to fall, the gigantic construct tumbling, beginning its terminal plunge through the atmosphere, inexorably burning it's way towards the surface. Slowly, piece by piece, all the evidence that anything artificial had once orbited this world would be gone, reduced to fiery dust by gravity, and time. Below, where the soil of this world had recently been disturbed, the gentle rain was moving on, the sun coming out from behind a bank of dark clouds. The last few drops fell, to splash upon the small, unfolding green leaf, alone amidst the vast, colorless land, opening to receive the sun. Fleeing from the Cylon tyranny, the last Battlestar, Galactica, leads a rag-tag fugitive fleet, on a lonely quest. A shining planet, known as Earth.