Battlestar Galactica-Tales From The Resistance
VS 5, Episode #13
By Eric Paddon
September, 2022

Thanks to Vance and Lisa for their contributions


Chapter One

CAPRICA

	Inside a small recessed enclave, a man sat at a desk prepared to
make a journal entry.    The man was only in his late 30s, but the
weight of his responsibilities had aged him by more than a decade.    
The black hair had grayed at the sides, the lines had formed under his
eyes and at the end of every day, his sense of exhaustion made him wish
he could fall asleep for a hundred yahrens without waking up.
	But for Commander Deval, the head of the Resistance movement based
on Caprica, that would never be an option.    He had freely chosen to
accept the responsibility of leadership nearly  four yahrens ago, and he
knew it was a lifetime assignment.     The only thing that could keep it
from being a lifetime appointment would be if......the slender thread of
hope that had been launched into the stars more than ten sectars ago
would finally become a reality.     And it was that subject that led the
top of his journal entry.
	"It was ten sectars ago today that the interstellar shuttlecraft
designed by Dr. Ravashol of Arcta was launched into space from the
abandoned aerodrome facility in West Galatia.    Carrying aboard, its
solitary passenger, Professor Ila, former teacher of music and drama at
the Caprica Fine Arts Institute, and one of the most valued members of
the Resistance Movement.   She had volunteered for this dangerous
mission because as the wife of Commander Adama of the Galactica, she
believed that she alone, had the ability to persuade her husband of the
genuineness of our existence and of our cause.     And that the
Galactica could be persuaded to abandon its pursuit of the so-called
lost thirteenth tribe of humanity and return home.
	"Our only clue to the Galactica's whereabouts came from Dr.
Ravashol, who told us their journey was taking them into the Alpha
Quadrant of the galaxy.     They and their 220 odd ships consisting of
all the survivors who had time to heed Commander Adama's warning in the
immediate aftermath of the Destruction, apparently had no other clue to
determine the supposed location of this legendary lost Colony of Man.   
 With such a wide-open region of space to consider, the solution toward
narrowing the odds we faced was to program the shuttle so that its
journey would end only when its sensors locked onto the unique ion fuel
trail of a Colonial battlestar.     We benefited from the fact that the
Galactica's presence at Arcta had allowed such fuel samples to be
categorized by Dr. Ravashol, and consequently his design of the modified
shuttle was guaranteed to react only to that unique fuel composition.   
 The instant such a trail was detected, it would determine the shuttle's
course through space.     And upon detection of the Galactica herself,
the shuttle's programming would carry it for a soft landing in her
landing bay.  Professor Ila, kept in suspended animation throughout the
course of this journey, would begin the process of reawakening upon
exposure to the safe atmosphere of the Galactica."
	Deval paused from his recording to take a sip of water.    Water
that came from an underground aquifer that had been tapped into.     Its 
flat taste was something he long ago learned to become used to in the
name of survival, as had everyone else.
	"All of this, Ravashol designed, and which after a modest level of
debate among all factions of the Resistance in the Colonies, it was
agreed that Professor Ila was the only one qualified to handle this
immense burden of going into suspended animation for as many as several
yahrens minimum, perhaps.    That if a total stranger to Commander Adama
were to undertake the journey and be found, he would perhaps be greeted
with skepticism about tales of a Resistance movement back in the
Colonies.    And undoubtedly, that skepticism would be magnified with
the news that one key to the Resistance has been the startling level of
increased disloyalty among the ranks of the occupying Cylon forces.     
Professor Ila herself understood this problem, and that was why she was
anxious to be the one willing to volunteer for a dangerous journey into
space that carried the risk of never finding the Galactica, which would
mean death to her.    But as she herself bravely told us in the meeting
that finalized the decision, 'I have been willing to die here on Caprica
for the last two yahrens for the sake of the Resistance.  I am more than
willing to do it in deep space in the name of a greater purpose that
will help us.'  All of us applauded her courage.    And so, ten sectars
ago she left us......and we can only hope and pray that her journey is
continuing unimpeded.     Our best estimate was that she would need at
least in excess of a yahren if not two before she was likely to
encounter the Galactica, given the calculations of how far she has
traveled since leaving Arcta.     It is not likely she has been
successful in catching up to them yet, though of course we would have no
way of knowing.     The only thing that will ever tell us whether or not
Ila has been successful will be the day we see the Galactica back in the
Colonies to help us strike a more lethal blow against our occupiers that
could well prove decisive.     But even our most optimistic forecasts
would require us to wait for several yahrens at minimum before we could
see our faith rewarded.    That is why for now......the Resistance must
proceed as if such faraway help is never likely to reach us, and that
Professor Ila must be regarded as a casualty.
	"So on this day, as I prepare for our regular teleconference with
the other Resistance leaders throughout the Colonies, made possible
thanks to another of Dr. Ravashol's gifts and the cooperative efforts of
our allies in the Cylon ranks, I try to keep things in perspective
regarding the mission our dear friend Ila was sent on.     And
yet.....no matter what we are able to achieve here in this ongoing
effort to free ourselves from Cylon occupation and restore the Colonies
to our rightful control......there will always be a sense of unfinished
business without knowing the answer to the simple question of......did
Ila succeed in making contact?     And if she did......was she able to
make a difference?     Or is Commander Adama at this point too set in a
path toward this goal of finding what to many of us, seems like the
pursuit of little more than an ancient fable?"


	Deval switched off the recorder, rose from his chair and grabbed
his uniform jacket off the hook on the bunk bed across from his desk.   
   A bed intended originally for agro-lab workers required to spend many
sectars underground while making their tests in a controlled
environment.    The lower berth was his.    The upper berth was occupied
by a sleeping child of ten.   A beautiful blonde girl whom Deval had
taken responsibility for when he'd found her in the wreckage of her
Caprica City apartment next to the dead body of her mother.     Not
simply from base altruism, but because the little girl named Abby was
someone he already knew and had known from her birth.     The daughter
of his best friend and wingmate from the Battlestar Solaria, Sergeant
Mattoon. 
    	Deval stopped to look down at the sleeping child.   He resisted the
temptation to run his hand through her hair or do anything to awake her. 
   He had come to regard her as his own daughter now.    It had enabled
him to move past the grief of losing his own wife and daughter in the
Destruction, and offer him a reminder of how the burden of commanding
the Resistance he had taken upon his shoulders, had to be for another
purpose as well.     So that children like Abby could still have some
hope for the future.
	"I'm taking care of her, Matty," he whispered as he cast a final
look at the girl.    A ritual he performed most every day to let the
spirit of Abby's father, Sergeant Mattoon, know that his daughter was
being cared for.
	And then he stepped through the doorway to his cubicle which
emptied into a narrow corridor.    His cubicle was one of many that
lined this hallway.    Here, in a bygone era, research scientists for
the Caprican Agricultural Institute had lived for sectars at a time
conducting experiments on how to grow food and raise livestock in
controlled underground environments.   The Institute Lab was one of
those projects that had attracted considerable controversy in Colonial
Government circles at the time of its approval, some twenty-five yahrens
ago.     The motive behind it was a belief felt by one of Caprica's
leading politicians, Sire Ezra that the danger of Cylon attack
necessitated safeguarding the ability to grow food for Caprica and the
rest of the Colonies in underground facilities totally impervious to
destruction from outside attack.     But Ezra's proposal had run into
stiff opposition from most of the Caprican Presidium, who considered it
a waste of cubits and resources to build something that would never have
to be put to the test.     It was only after the Cylon attack on the
city of Umbra, the first such Cylon strike on Caprican territory in well
over a generation, that the Presidium finally relented and agreed to the
construction of an experimental laboratory to be situated under the new
Caprican Agricultural Institute just outside Caprica City.     When it
opened, it contained five underground greenhouses, two livestock corrals
and quarters for a permanent staff of some 100 scientists and lab-techs.
	As the Institute's work grew in importance over the yahrens, the
directors of the Institute were soon petitioning the Presidium for
constructing a new, and more extensive facility situated further away
from Caprica City in the so-called "Greenbelt" zone.    This too proved
controversial as many who lived in that region objected to the prospect
of such a facility intruding on their residential enclaves.    But
finally, after yahrens of haggling, an agreement was reached to break
ground for the new Ezra Institute of Agricultural Study.    The old
Institute, located closer to the city would gradually go into a
shut-down mode as the components of the new Institute came on-line.
	That process of transition was only half complete at the time of
the Cylon attack that resulted in the Destruction of the Colonies and
their occupation by Cylon forces.     The new Institute had by this
point assumed the role of housing the main Administrative offices and
above-ground laboratories.     The underground labs though were still
uncompleted and that meant the facilities in the old lab were not yet in
a state of decommission.      That proved to be the salvation for some
three hundred residents of Caprica City who had been unable to get off
the planet and join the Exodus of ships that eventually hooked up with
the Battlestar Galactica.     Knowing that the occupying Cylons would
soon try to flood out the remaining human survivors through pluton
poisoning and destruction of the planet's eco-system, the imperative for
finding a save haven that could allow life to continue for an indefinite
period was urgent.
	Deval at the time had been a Lieutenant, flying a viper on the
Battlestar Solaria.   He and his wingmate, Sergeant Mattoon had been the
only two pilots from the Solaria able to launch when the attack force
from Cimtar rained their fury on the Combined Colonial Fleet.   That had
been due to the lax discipline standards of their commanding officer,
Commander Remus.     Remus had been a well-liked skipper, known for the
kindly paternal attitude he displayed toward all members of his crew.   
 In all of Deval's yahrens on the Solaria he'd never seen Remus lose his
temper with a subordinate.    If he needed to show discipline it was
always in the context of gentle, fatherly disappointment.    But on the
night of the Destruction, that fatherly kindness had backfired in the
worst possible way.    Remus had given all off-duty pilots the freedom
to relax and live it up in the Officers Club as the Solaria proceeded
with the rest of the Fleet toward the planned rendezvous with the
Imperious Leader to sign the Peace Treaty.     Deval and Mattoon were
the only ones on standby since they would fly the first peacetime patrol
after the Treaty was signed.     Because of that gesture of kindness to
his crew, they were the only two pilots capable of responding to the Red
Alert when the Cylon sneak attack bore down on the Fleet.
	Almost immediately after they'd launched, Deval found himself
separated from Mattoon as they were greeted with a massive barrage of
Cylon fighters from all directions.      He could hear frantic messages
emanating from Captain Killian of the Columbia's Blue Group and
Lieutenant Starbuck from the Galactica's Red Group on getting
coordinated, but it was clear to Deval they were dealing with a hopeless
situation.    The Colonial Combined Fleet had been caught dead in the
water and was about to be annihilated.     And in the time it took Deval
to realize that, he also realized another truth.     The Colonies were
about to be annihilated as well.
	He had made the decision to break off from the battle and head
straight for Caprica at full turbos.     And he'd arrived just in time
to see three baseships on his scanner unleashing their entire attack
force.     Had Deval been filled with blind patriotic madness he might
have let himself go down fighting by trying to take out as many of the
Raiders as he could.     But at this point, the Solaria lieutenant was
past the point of feeling any duty to honor and nation.     All that
mattered to him was getting to the surface of Caprica and getting back
to his wife Esther and their ten yahren old daughter, Dani.
	He knew that Caprica City would be hit in the first wave of
attacks.    And so, he had deliberately entered the planet's atmosphere
on the opposite site and headed in at low altitude to stay off the
attacking Cylon scanner frequencies.       That had enabled him to set
down fifteen kilometers outside the city at an abandoned skybus
terminal.    From that point on, his only option was to get to the city
on-foot as the roadway arteries leaving the city were jammed with
one-way traffic trying to escape the carnage.     For over two full
cycles, he had pushed his way through crowds and ignoring the pleas of
others begging for assistance after seeing his uniform.
	By the time he reached his home in District 8 of Caprica City, the
fires of destruction had slowly begun to burn themselves out, leaving
behind empty shells of buildings or collapsed piles of rubble.     At
first, there were others like him trying to get to what had been their
homes to see if loved ones were alive, but they began to slacken off
once the sound of a message began to fill the ruined streets on some
kind of makeshift loudspeaker.
	"People of Caprica.    This is Commander Adama of the Battlestar
Galactica.   It is imperative that all survivors of this Holocaust
proceed immediately to the nearest aerodrome facility and board any
available space-worthy craft that will enable you to leave the surface
immediately.     Survivors will rendezvous with the Galactica at
coordinates to be broadcast after you have safely launched.   Do not
linger on the surface searching for loved ones or possessions.  It is
imperative for your survival, and the survival of the human race to
leave before the occupation forces of the Cylons arrive."
	That was followed by another message over the loudspeaker.
	"People of Caprica.   This is Serina, lead anchor of the Broadcast
Network of Caprica.  Commander Adama's message will repeat on a
continuous loop for the next twenty-four centars.  A similar message
with identical instructions is repeating on automated loop on the
remaining audio and video  frequencies of the BNC.    There is no other
information to give.    Make no delay in seeking escape from the surface
of Caprica as soon as you possibly can.   Colonial Warriors at the Main
Aerodrome in Caprica City are attempting to facilitate space in all
available craft.     Ships that are able to depart from other facilities
can also proceed to the Exodus point.      Do *not* remain on the
surface of Caprica."
	The alternating messages continued to air in the loudspeakers over
every decimated block of the capital city.     After hearing them for
over the hundredth time, Deval had stopped in his tracks and shouted at
the top of his lungs, "SHUT UP!"    He had no desire to listen to these
words calling for abandonment of Caprica, which he knew by extension had
to mean all of the Colonies were being abandoned.     The only remnant
of the Colonial Fleet that had survived had decided to surrender and
leave who knew how many millions of people on all twelve worlds to a
horrible fate.     That was one future he had already decided he wanted
no part of.    Not unless he found Esther and Dani in time to make it to
one of these ships that would be leaving to join up with the last
battlestar.    Then he'd be willing to do it for their sakes only, but
never his own.
	He finally reached District 8 and the apartment complex that was
his home during extended furlon from the Solaria and where Esther and
Dani had been able to live comfortably.   The building was still
standing.....but one side of it had caved in completely.     Because he
wasn't home as often as he wished he needed to stop and think carefully
which side of the building his apartment was on and he felt his first
glimmer of hope when he realized it was on the intact western side of
the building.     That meant he could access the staircase to get to the
apartment on the 4th  floor.    But when he entered, he found to his
horror the telltale odor of noxious fumes filling the remains of the
building.     The fires of the Cylon assault combined with ruptured
heating lines had created and atmosphere that was nearly poisonous to
breathe.   It required covering his face completely from the nostrils
down to ward off the effects.
	He'd found Esther buried under the wreckage of a sofa.    She had
been sitting in it watching the BNC coverage of preparations for the
peace ceremony when the attack took place.   The blast that caused the
other side of the building to collapse had flipped the sofa in the air
and it had landed on her, pinning her body underneath.     Yet
amazingly, she was still alive.    Being buried under the sofa had
provided partial shelter from the fumes, but ultimately not enough to
stave off the inevitable.    Esther would live only a sectan before
succumbing to the ill effects of noxious fume inhalation.      
	He had managed to ask his dying wife where their daughter Dani had
been.    She had mentioned Dani going over to the apartment where
Sergeant Mattoon lived in the next block.    Mattoon's wife Jana had
telecommed earlier to ask if Dani might help six yahren old Abigail with
her homework.     Dani had said yes.     This itself was a change since
despite the close friendship between Esther and Jana, Dani had never
been keen about spending time with Abigail because of the age
difference.     But this was something that would let Dani get a chance
to play a kind of "big sister" role that she could appreciate, and so
she had gone over to Sergeant Mattoon's apartment to help Abigail.
	After leaving Esther in the care of several other people who had
hooked up with his search efforts, Deval had gone to the similar styled
apartment building Mattoon lived in.    Mattoon's building was half
caved in at the center leaving only the lower most floors intact.    He
made his way to the third floor and found it a more a chaotic mess than
his own dwelling had been.     And in the wreckage, he found the crying
form of little Abigail clinging hard to the skirt of her mother Jana,
who was clearly dead from collapsed debris.      A futile search
revealed no trace of Dani.     And given the traumatic shock Abigail was
experiencing, he knew it was pointless to try and ask her if Dani had
ever arrived safely to the apartment, or if she had been caught in the
attack while on her way to or from it.      To this day, Deval had never
found the strength to ask Abby, because he knew it could easily reopen
too many nightmares for her when she'd seen her mother die before her
eyes.     And so, the question of what had happened to his own daughter
could only remain an unsolved mystery.
	By this point, the loudspeaker announcements on the streets of
Caprica City had ceased.    A chilling indicator to all those left on
the planet that the Galactica was now gone from the region and they were
cut off from all other means of assistance on a planet that the Cylons
would soon be occupying.      Within a day, Cylon fighters began flying
overhead to indicate their orbital presence.     But the troops delayed
their arrival in Caprica City.      By the time a sectan had passed,
Deval had been forced to confront the death of his wife.     In her
final goodbye to him, she had told him not to grieve long and to be
strong for the others who now looked up to him.     Already, many other
survivors had been flocking to Deval because he was the only one in
sight wearing the uniform of a Colonial warrior.     Even when others in
uniform showed up like Captain Antony from Caprica District
Headquarters, it was Deval they looked to because he was the most
experienced from a combat standpoint and had commanded others in battle.
	And so, Deval, not wanting to dishonor his wife's last request, had
taken up the burden of command for the lives of dozens of Capricans
flocking to him now.    He had given them instruction on where to set up
safe camp zones in the rubble of the buildings, and then with Antony
agreeing to be his deputy, he formulated a plan for where the survivors
could be led to safety.     It was agreed that an underground shelter
needed to be found.     Antony then noted that the Astral Needle in
downtown Caprica City had an extensive underground shelter and basement
filled with supplies that contained food for the revolving restaurant at
the top.     It was possible there were people already there and that
perhaps it could house the sixty odd people who were already looking to
Deval for help.
	The arrival at the Needle, which had collapsed under a barrage of
Cylon fire revealed something else.      Fourteen survivors trapped in
the shuttle because the falling debris from hen the Needle collapsed had
buried the stairwell leading into it.     It was only because a hole in
the street allowed them to see three hundred feet down into the
sub-basement that they knew the survivors were there.    Able to breathe
but unable to get out because there was nothing that could let them
reach the surface but the blocked stairway.      Determined to free
them, Deval, Antony and ten more stout-hearted men managed to use some
plastic explosives retrieved from a munitions warehouse to blast away
the debris blocking the stairwell.     And finally, fourteen weary
survivors could at last emerge from their buried tomb of so many days.  
  At the head of that group.......Commander Adama's wife, Professor Ila. 
   A last minute telecom from her friend Zakiya to come to a party at
the Needle had saved her life since her own house along the seashore had
taken a direct hit.    So direct that when her husband and son had
toured the wreckage centars later, they were convinced she had been
there when it had happened.
	By now the numbers had grown into the low hundreds when the next
sign of what was to come filled the sky.    Now, the Cylon Raiders were
accompanied by Cylon shuttles broadcasting their own messages from fixed
aerial positions above the surface of the planet.    To the surprise of
everyone, the message came not in the monotonic computer sound of a
Cylon centurion that most were familiar with......but from a human
sounding voice.
	"Attention, people of Caprica.     This is Malus, newly appointed
Governor of all six of the Inner Colonies.    You are now the conquered
subjects of His Eminence, the Cylon Imperious Leader.      If you value
any opportunity to survive, you will report immediately to the nearest
aerodrome and submit yourselves to his permanent authority.    Failure
to do so, will result in your eventual termination.      As the newly
appointed Governor for the Inner Colonies, I am willing to be merciful
to those who heed this message quickly and recognize the inevitable.   
Those who report soon, will be rewarded.   Those who resist......will
suffer the worst form of death imaginable."
	An air of desperation had begun to settle in over those in Deval's
group.    Frantic pleas of where do we go, and what shall we do, ringed
the air.     Deval was convinced he was about to lose control of the
situation and see the people he had tried to take responsibility for
break ranks and stampede away in a panic.      But at that moment, he
saw Ila, conveying an air of dignity and wisdom in her torn and ruined
stola, pushing her way to the front of the group and taking her place
alongside Deval and Antony.
	"We must stay together!" Ila had declared.   "We can only survive
by staying together and not giving into panic!    That is the last thing
we can let ourselves do!"
	"But where do we go?" several panicked voices seem to shout in
unison.
	At that moment, Ila had turned to Antony and Deval.   "The
decommissioned Agricultural Institute has underground facilities.   
They may still be intact." 
	"Do you know where it is, Professor?" Deval had asked.
	"I do," Ila nodded, "It's just five kilometers outside the main
downtown area.    We should head there immediately."
	And so with Ila to provide directions (and establishing herself
from the outset as a valued leader of the group, even before they
learned she was Commander Adama's wife) Deval led a group of nearly
three hundred Capricans into the shelter of the old Agricultural
Institute.     Just in time to hear the next aerial message from
Governor Malus.    That pluton and radon poisoning would be employed to
flush out all Capricans from their hiding places.
	The next few cycles were the ones when Deval established a bond of
unshakable loyalty to those who had placed themselves in his care.     
Steeling himself up and showing no signs of emotional panic, he had
organized the survivors into teams to quickly gather as many
above-ground soil and food samples as they possibly could for safe
transport into the shelters where they could be placed in the intact
greenhouses.     Another group was given charge to raid supply
warehouses for shopping complexes of essential tools they would need,
including portable generating devices and com-line communicators.    
One team even managed to reach an abandoned tylium fueling station for
air taxis and siphon over five hundred gallons of the precious fuel
resource.    It was a round the clock operation guided by the slogan
Deval had coined, "Whoever sleeps.....dies."
	The operation ceased on a morning when the eeriest sounding alarm
filled every corner of Caprica.    A warning that the radon poisoning
operations were now beginning.     Deval had sent out the order that
everyone drop what they were carrying and enter the shelter now.    
When the last team made it in, the bunker hatch was sealed shut and the
underground power systems turned on.    Giving the people the air they
needed to breathe, access to the fresh water from the underground
aquifer system, and the ability to grow crops and raise livestock in the
restored facilities.    All of them safe from the above-ground
contamination the occupying Cylons were now inflicting on the planet
surface.
	For the next yahren, the three hundred survivors stayed in their
bunker.....and lived.   Unable to do anything but try to carry on the
functions of living in a sealed environment.    One hundred sixty men.  
 One hundred twenty-two women.    Twenty children ranging from age four
to sixteen.     Some able to be more productive than others in keeping
life going.    And others who couldn't cope.     There were five
suicides in that first yahren.     And when a death took place it
required sending two men through the airlock to the surface in
protective suits with the body so it could be quickly burned and
disposed of in the open before a Cylon patrol noticed any activity that
shouldn't be taking place in a world where the human population should
now be extinct.
	It was during such a disposal, one yahren after they had gone
underground, when the two-man team noticed something on the surface of
Caprica that clearly did not belong in a world where the eco-system was
completely tainted.     They had spotted a live equine aimlessly
wandering in the distance.   Followed by a second.     That had led the
disposal team to go back inside and retrieve a soil sample kit.     When
the soil sample was analyzed, a startling discovery was made.      No
traces of radon or pluton poisoning whatsoever.   A subsequent check of
the atmosphere only revealed a low level amount of radon in the air.   
Signs that radon had been introduced far away from the Caprica City
environs and been carried to this area by the wind.     But it clearly
revealed that the planet had not undergone the wholesale poisoning that
had been threatened.
	These developments had led to a hastily called conference of the
underground Colony's Executive Committee.     The Committee consisted of
Deval, Antony, Ila, Chief Medical Officer Celsus, Chief Agro-Specialist
Artemis, and Technical Operations Director Marco.    What followed was
an intense discussion in which they knew they would be making their most
important decision ever.........


	"There's no question whatsoever," Dr. Celsus said.   "The above
ground soil surrounding the Institute is completely clean of any
poisoning, radon or pluton.     The atmospheric particles are barely a
trace."
	"So what does this all mean?" Deval asked, chiefly as a way of
trying to generate further discussion.   "Does it mean the Cylons
developed a new strain of poison that breaks down much earlier than any
other known to exist?"
	"Totally impossible," Celsus shook his graying head.    He'd been a
staff physician at the Caprican Medical Institute and was one of three
qualified doctors in the Colony.    "My expertise may not be in the
chemical realm, but all of us with basic scientific training know that
the properties of radon and pluton don't break down into absolute
nothing without leaving so much as a slight trace.    That's why the
atmosphere check confirms they *have* used radon elsewhere on
Caprica.....but clearly far away from us.     Our entire region has been
left untouched."
	"We're in agreement on that?" the Commander looked around the
table, and everyone nodded their heads or let out affirming grunts.  
"All right.   Then the next question is why?    Why would they leave
this part of Caprica untouched?"
	"Efficiency?" this from Dr. Artemis, the lead agro-specialist.   
She was in her early forties and was the only one in the group who had
previously worked in the labs when they were in active operation.    But
that had been on a summer research study long ago in her graduate school
days.    Her career in the agro-sciences had led her to a job working in
the research division of a major food manufacturing conglomerate that
served several of the Inner Colonies.   And her greatest achievement had
been developing the formula for a crisper type of wheat-based snack
chip.
	"In what way?" Deval pressed.
	"Well.....if they assumed they didn't *need* to use it in certain
areas of Caprica, then why bother wasting their supply when they might
need it for somewhere else?"
	"That's logical, but I can't agree, Dr. Artemis," Colonel Antony
shook his head.  "If the Cylons were a biologically sentient race that
would make sense, but the fact they're a robotic race means they don't
have to give a frack about a planetary ecosystem and what the effects on
the atmosphere are.    Their entire principle is based on a scorched
planet policy and there's no question they were intending to do just
that to flush every last survivor on Caprica and all the other Colonies
out into the open so they could finish them off.     Efficiency as
*they* define it would mean leaving nothing left to grow on this
planet."
	"Then something has to have happened to make them change their
minds," Deval tried to zero in, "If this goes against the grain of how
the Cylons are supposed to act when carrying out planetary genocide,
then what is it that's made them change their minds?    Why have they
decided planetary genocide isn't necessary?"
	"Because they think they've already succeeded and  they believe
there's no one left alive on Caprica?" this from Dr. Marco, a
dark-skinned man in his early thirties who had been a computer
technician for the leading power utility conglomerate on the planet.
	"That puts us right back to where we were before, Dr. Marco,"
Antony said gently.  "Only a scorched planet campaign would convince
them they'd succeeded."
	Deval looked over at Ila, who was characteristically biting the end
of her stylus as she made notes.    "Professor?     Do you have any
thoughts?"
	Ila took the writing implement out of her mouth and made a notation
without looking up, "Maybe.....the Cylons have changed their minds about
wanting all of us dead."
	"Oh come on, Professor," Dr. Celsus rolled his eyes.   "They go to
all this trouble to lure us into a phony peace so they can unleash the
ultimate Destruction on our civilization and now they've changed their
minds?   That makes no sense."
	Ila looked at him directly with a hint of coldness, "It does make
sense if you remember all  the rumors that were flying around about how
the Cylons pulled this off because there was a traitor in our ranks.    
If they had a traitor who enabled them to do all this, then that means
there are clearly *some* humans left who are probably willing to
collaborate with them if it means saving themselves."
	"I heard the traitor rumors too, Ila," Antony said.    He had a
tendency to be instinctively informal with her, which Ila had guessed
stemmed from a more than professional interest on his part in her.  "But
the way the Cylons think, a traitor in our ranks is the kind of person
they'd use and then dispose of once they served their purpose.    I
can't imagine they've refrained from going full scorched planet on us
just because they want to accommodate collaborators."
	"There is precedent," Ila tried to avoid eye contact with the
handsome Colonel.   "My husband once shared details of an intelligence
briefing he and the Council received about Cylon operations deep in the
Alpha Quadrant of the galaxy.     That they subjugated a human
civilization in the Cannes System by letting one half of the population
collaborate with them against the other.     It's clearly not an exact
science with them that they never collaborate with anyone to further
their aims."
	Antony tried to avoid looking surprised by this particular
revelation, which he was unaware of.    Then again, he knew that as the
wife of a man who was both battlestar commander and Council member, Ila
would probably be more "well-read" on certain topics than he'd been in
recent yahrens.     After a stint on the Battlestar Columbia as chief of
the Colonial Security division, he'd been reassigned to a desk job at
Fleet District Headquarters on Caprica.    A job that he'd chafed under
until he'd been sought out for what had been described as "very
important work" by someone prominent in Colonial military circles.    
That "important work" though was something he was now deeply ashamed to
have had any part in, and he also knew that if Ila were ever aware of
it, it could permanently rupture the friendship they'd developed over
the past yahren.
	"I don't doubt what you say, Ila," Antony said politely.   "But I
think forcing an outpost civilization of humanity to collaborate is a
different thing from what's regarded to be the heart of human
civilization itself.    The symbolism of the Twelve Worlds as the seed
of all humanity from which all other outposts in the galaxy came from is
too great for Cylon programming to disregard."
	"I have to go with Colonel Antony's thinking," Deval said.   "Even
if the Cylons did have traitors on the inside to help plan the
Holocaust, they don't have need for them any longer."
	"Unless they need living humans as slave labor?" Dr. Artemis
ventured.   "Why waste centurions on jobs human slaves would better fill
when they might need those same centurions for other conquest missions
in the galaxy?     And if they realized they do need human slaves to do
menial work that would explain why the planet isn't as poisoned as we
thought it would be."
	"That's a possibility," Deval conceded.   "But if they were really
interested in that, they could have enticed us out long ago.      Those
loudspeaker messages they were broadcasting didn't offer any real hint
of that.    Oh sure, that....Malus or whatever his name was said those
who surrendered would be "rewarded" but anyone could tell what that
really meant.    Quick death as opposed to slow death."
	"But it's the most logical solution I can think of," Antony folded
his arms.  "There may be things in the infrastructure of the planet that
they think requires human input and that could explain why they held
back.     Goodness knows I can't think of another."
	"Can anyone else?" Deval looked down the table.    Ila was shaking
her head slightly and the postures of the others indicated they had
nothing to offer.     But then he noticed at the end of the table, Dr.
Marco, who had an awkward expression that indicated he was reluctant to
say what was on his mind.
	"Dr. Marco?   Do you have something to offer?"
	The tech specialist slowly shook his head, "I.....don't think so."
	"I think you do," Deval said quietly, showing the command edge in
his voice, "And maybe you're afraid we'll laugh at what you might say.  
 I assure you, we won't.    I'm prepared to listen to *any* ideas about
this."
	Marco slowly came up in his chair and took a breath to relax
himself.    "There is.....another possibility, even though it may sound
ridiculous."
	"Try us," Antony said, "Like the Commander said, we won't laugh
even if it is."
	"All right.    Just speaking as someone who has had to deal with
computer systems going haywire because their programming became
fracked.......what if the Cylons in charge of this occupation
decided......not to follow their programming?"
	There was no response from any of the people in the table.    No
one laughed.    No one made a sound.      After fifteen microns, Marco
began to slink back in his chair with the only thought being relief that
his skin color prevented him from the indignity of blushing in
embarrassment.    But before his back hit the chair, Ila spoke up.
	"That's.....an interesting suggestion, Dr. Marco," the blonde
Academician said.   "Can you elaborate on the idea?"
	Feeling relieved, Marco came forward in his chair again.  
"Well.....think of the effect the Destruction might have had on the
average Cylon mind.    I'm not talking about the advanced brains that
run the Cylon High Command, I'm thinking more of the average centurion. 
  Centurions are worker type robots who are given life with just one
function guiding them, and that is to conquer and kill humans in the
name of Cylon order.    Well.....how does a mind react to that when the
purpose for living......is no longer there?      I mean, think about it. 
 A thousand yahrens of reason for why these centurions exist is no
longer there.    Now that they've won the war......where do they go from
there?"
	"We aren't the only race the Cylons made war against, Doctor,"
Antony said.   "Surely it isn't a stretch for them to transfer that
basic conquest motive to another race."
	"Yes, if you're on deep space duty, but that wouldn't apply to the
ones who are right here," Marco waved his arm upward, "They have to run
a conquered planet ostensibly with no one left to kill.    To do what,
basically?     Haven't we all stopped to wonder what it would actually
*mean* for a Cylon to win the war and have no more purpose left to
define its existence?    That's always been the thing about them that
made them so hard to comprehend.    Well now that they've done it, do
you think it's possible their programmed minds might start to develop a
sense of......stagnation if you will?"
	Hearing nothing, he decided to press on, now that he'd gotten his
thought out in the open. "I'm not the biggest expert in computer
science.     I was a reasonably good tech at what I did, but one thing
we were taught was how computer brains can lose their minds if they lose
their sense of purpose.    That's why system breakdowns happen.    Apply
it to the Cylon model, and it's possible the same thing could happen
once the computer brain has time to process the fact that if they have
no more humans to kill.....where does that leave them?"
	"I'll tell you where I think that would leave them," Artemis
shuddered, "Determined to find ways of luring more humans out just to
refresh their programming instinct."
	Marco shook his head, "But that wouldn't solve their problem.    
If they held back killing some humans to stretch out the time factor on
how long it would take to kill all of them, they're just postponing the
inevitable.    The problem that impacts their programming kicks in
sooner or later, and it seems to me that maybe......if something like
that were to happen, it could very well mean there could be some Cylons
who've gotten fed up with killing humans for the sake of killing.   That
would *really* explain why they haven't gone scorched planet."
	"Wait a micron," Celsus was shaking his head.   "Even if what you
were suggesting had the slightest chance of being true......then that
would mean the Cylons running Caprica would be disobeying orders form
their superiors.    So what are they supposed to do when their superiors
come in and check to see how things are going?"
	"I didn't say it was a perfect theory," Marco conceded, "But then
again, what theory is?   It still comes back to the fact that by not
going scorched planet on us, the Cylons who are in charge of this planet
aren't operating according to standard procedure for Cylons."
	"As if any of it makes any kind of difference for us," Artemis
said,   "Other than the fact that maybe we can go back to the surface
and try to scavenge for resources to help keep operations going, what's
really changed for us?"
	The silence that followed made everyone look to Commander Deval.  
His hand was under his chin suggesting he was doing some deep thinking.
	"Maybe little," the former Solaria pilot said, "But maybe.....just
maybe a lot.    Maybe....something strange is going on inside the Cylon
command operations that explains why Caprica's ecosystem is still
intact.     Because if it is......then that opens the possibility for
more people being alive on this planet in the same kind of set-up we're
in.    And if we could take advantage of the planet still being safe
enough to stick our noses out for extended periods......maybe we could
try to look for them and make contact with them.    And maybe....."
	They waited to hear him finish but then he finally lowered his hand
and brought his chair around so he was hunched forward on the desk.
	"Dr. Marco.....your theory is intriguing.     It may be a remote
possibility, but if we have the ability to venture outside and do some
stealth work on our own, we can see if the idea has any possible merit. 
  It'll take time to figure out a strategy for this, but I think we need
to get to work on it.     Not for the sake of trying to raise a false
hope, but to give us something to do, and to see if maybe......we aren't
necessarily going to be cursed to spend generations down here trying to
survive."


	And so they had begun to plot strategies on how to effectively
carry out stealth missions on the surface.    That meant finding the
right people in their colony of three hundred who were capable and
willing to carry out such missions.     It was obvious that Colonel
Antony was well-qualified because his previous yahrens in Colonial
Security aboard the Columbia meant he had taken part in planetary
assault missions.     Finding others wasn't as easy.    Of the hundred
and sixty odd male survivors, only three had been active Colonial
warriors at the time.     One of them had been a recruiting station
officer who'd never seen a day of combat in his life.    Two more had
been security guards attached to an armory, and while both had been
helpful in gaining access to a large number of laser pistols and weapons
for use in the event the Cylons tried to penetrate their bunker, they
also had no combat experience.    Another twenty-five men had past
military service, but just six as warriors.    With women, there were
ten with previous military experience and just three as actual combat
warriors.
	A "weeding" process took place to come up with twenty men and women
capable of handling the rigors of stealth missions on the surface.    
To the surprise of many, it soon emerged that Ila, the wife of Commander
Adama and former Music and Drama instructor, actually had skills in the
area that surpassed other would-be candidates.     As the mother of
three children who had grown up to become warriors, she had taken many
physical training classes to keep up with them.     And she'd still kept
up the fitness regimens even after the nest had emptied and they'd all
gone to the Academy, and from there to careers aboard the Galactica to
serve under their father.    
	Ila had scarcely expected that she'd find herself thrust in such a
role of commando operative alongside the likes of Colonel Antony, but
she accepted it as her duty and threw herself into it.     The initial
missions had ventured only two kilometrones beyond the confines of the
Institute grounds where they found unattended roads and little sign of
their Cylon occupiers.   Only when they expanded the search perimeter to
four kilometrones away into what had been the outermost edge of the
developed areas of Caprica City that they saw their first signs of Cylon
patrol activity.      Followed by the first sizable contingent of Cylon
forces, based in an electrical power station.      Further scouting
missions revealed more, spread out at intervals of one to two
kilometrones and operating from undamaged facilities like the former
Maximus Arena, where triad matches had been held.
	After a sectar of scouting and keeping out of sight of the Cylon
forces, Commander Deval ordered another meeting of the Executive
Committee.


	"The Cylon position is well-established on the perimeter four
kilometrones from here," Antony had reported.   "Probably three hundred
centurions operate the first two facilities."
	Deval shook his head, "Three hundred centurions only a few
kilometrones from here and yet they've never tried to search this place
and see if any humans are in hiding here?    It doesn't make sense!"
	"I agree," Ila said.   "Especially when our scouting revealed
there's nothing to stand in the way of them ordering a full search of
the Institute.     Well we've checked the Institute above ground and
it's clear there was only minimal penetration of the main gate at one
point.    The rest of it hasn't even been touched.     It's as if they
took one look and left."
	"Maybe they were just convinced it was a waste of time to look
because we'd covered our tracks well," Celsus offered.    Which brought
a vigorous shake of the head from Marco.
	"Celsus, that makes no sense at all.     It's a *bigger* waste of
time to just have their centurions puttering about only four
kilometrones from us and doing what amounts to nothing.    The very
fulfillment of their programming would dictate conducting the equivalent
of a house to house search of Caprica for human survivors and rooting
out every last possible hiding place.   And if they *really* felt the
Institute was a waste of time, why are they leaving it standing?   
Efficiency in the true Cylon sense would have dictated blowing up the
surface structures and banking on the prospect that if there are any
humans underground, we'd be buried alive for all time."
	"Dr. Marco, you're practically implying the Cylons know we're here
and are deliberately leaving us alone," this from Artemis.
	Marco leaned back in his chair and threw his stylus onto the table,
"Maybe that *is* what's happening, Dr. Artemis."
	"Oh come on," Celsus rolled his eyes in disgust. 
	"It makes sense!" Marco jabbed his arm forward, "The idea of robots
developing sentient thoughts and emotions is hardly a new one.    When a
computer brain can learn to reason it can also come to reason that its
very existence for being is illogical!"
	"Let's assume you're right and they know we're here and they're
leaving us alone," Deval said methodically, not indicating if he was
taking sides or not, "Why can't it mean the Cylons have learned to play
a more sadistic kind of game with us?     To torture us into thinking
everything is all right up top and then once we're out in the
open......then make the move on us."
	"That's a legitimate possibility," Marco conceded.   "If they *are*
developing a greater level of sentience and potential frustration with
their programming, then trying to find a more.....calculated means of
destroying their enemy would fit the pattern."
	"Never mind legitimate, Marco, it sounds more like the obvious
answer to me!" Celsus snorted,   "The Imperious Leader did that to us
with the whole phony peace offering.   You're practically suggesting we
should fall for the same trick again."
	"But we're not talking about the Imperious Leader!" the senior
technician now slammed his palm on the table, "We're talking about the
lowest level class of Cylons.    The drone workers whose entire
programmed reason for existence is based on doing the dirty work of the
Empire.    If *they're* the ones who've decided not to do a scorched
planet policy, and if *they're* the ones who've decided not to tear up
the Institute grounds above to look for holdouts living
underground.......then my gut tells me there's a reason that runs
contrary to normal centurion programming instinct."
	Five microns went by before Artemis leaned back and said, "You're
just speculating."
	"Everything we've had to do has been based on one form of
speculating or another," Ila broke her silence.     She liked Artemis
but she'd long become convinced that the agro-specialist had grown too
comfortable with the status quo of living underground.      She was in a
work environment she could thrive in, and there was nothing to be gained
from her standpoint in terms of disrupting that status quo in the
slightest.     A total contrast to Ila, who many times had found herself
suffering from the problem of "cabin fever" that was prone to strike so
many of the colony's inhabitants.   "I think at the very least, if it's
safe for us to keep looking on the surface and spy on the Cylon outposts
nearest to us, we should try to find out why the eco-system here hasn't
been touched and why they haven't been hunting for more survivors."
	"What's the point?" Celsus inquired sourly.    "Assuming the good
Dr. Marco is correct, what would change if we discovered a group of
centurions are getting fed up with their lot?    All the High Command
would have to do is send in more centurions who *haven't* grown
discontent and then the triad game is over."
	"I don't know what it could lead to, Dr. Celsus," the blonde
Academician conceded.   "But I for one want to find out if there's
*anything* left up there that can give us just the tiniest bit of hope
that what's left of our people isn't going to become an underground
troglodyte species for eternity."
	"And I'm not in favor of putting a yahren's hard work of getting
this colony to function on the line based on a crazy theory," Artemis
held her ground, and next to her Celsus was nodding vigorously.
	Marco looked over at the two military men seated at the table.  
"Commander?"
	Deval leaned forward, "We need to reach an agreeable compromise,"
he said.   "I propose we send a commando team to the surface, but
they're to camp far away from the Institute for at least one cycle.   
And only *then* approach the Cylon complexes and spy on them thoroughly
so we can start hearing their conversations among themselves.     That
way it won't make the Institute seem like the obvious place where
survivors come from if they should be spotted."
	"And naturally if they're spotted, the mission becomes one-way to
prevent revealing our location under interrogation in the event of
capture." Celsus still wasn't impressed.
	"I'm prepared to take the risk," Ila said with sudden, quiet
defiance.    This suddenly brought everything to a stop.      The
biggest look of concern was on Antony's face.
	"Are you, Professor?" Deval asked quietly.
	"Yes," she said, "I want to do this.    I want to get to the bottom
of what's been going on up there and that means I'm willing to die
finding out."
	"Then we're agreed then," the ex-Solaria pilot said with finality. 
 "We will investigate what's going on up there and find out if the
Cylons have become cunning, bored or.....something even more
significant."


	And so they had investigated.     Ila had willingly donned a black
commando uniform and along with Colonel Antony and four other volunteers
from their ranks, camped out first in the Thorn Forest, some ten
kilometrones from the Institute grounds and far away from the known
established positions of Cylon forces.     The fact that trees were
still growing and birds were still singing offered the greatest proof of
Caprica's thriving ecosystem more than a yahren after Cylon occupation. 
    They spent the day sleeping in the forest so they could move in on
Caprica City at night, and do it from an angle that wouldn't indicate
they had come from the Institute.
	No sooner had they gathered themselves to begin their exit from the
Forest when they stumbled upon a neatly paved trail that led further
back toward the long-destroyed city of Umbra.  It was clear from its
condition that it had been recently repaired.    And the only
explanation for that could be a Cylon attempt to penetrate the region in
search of humans who might have sought refuge in the ruins of a city
destroyed more than thirty yahrens ago.
	Their hunch had proved correct.    The sound of a transport vehicle
from behind them suddenly filled the Caprican night, forcing the six
Capricans to scramble for cover but not before the light from the front
of the vehicle had shined brightly on three of them.    Knowing they'd
been spotted, Ila made a quick decision of her own.    To point her
laser pistol at the approaching vehicle and open fire on it.       In
that instant, the many yahrens she'd spent with her children at target
ranges paid off as her first shot struck the driver of the cart-like
vehicle square in the chest, causing it to veer off the pathway where it
crashed into a tree.    That was enough time for Colonel Antony to then
take out two more centurions who were in the back seat of the vehicle.  
When it was over, the veteran warrior came up to Ila, who was frozen
numb as a result of what had transpired.
	"It's never easy the first time," he'd said gently to her.   "But
after that......you get used to the fact that you know how to kill."    
It was advice Ila would take to heart and remember.     From that point
on, she would always be a perfect picture of warrior precision whenever
she had to use her laser.     And if she had to kill, she never took so
much as a micron to bat an eye over what she'd been forced to do.   
	"Okay," Antony then said to the others, "Time for a change in
strategy.   We're going to follow this trail back to Umbra and find out
what they're up to there.    We need to find out if they're searching
for humans holed up in the ruins......and if they've found any."
	The five commandos got into the transport vehicle and with Antony
driving it, they began to head back into the forest along the paved
pathway.     Ila rode in front alongside the Colonel, feeling an
increased level of confidence in his presence.    The other stayed
hunched in the back.  As the headlights pierced the blackness ahead, it
revealed nothing......until through the forest, they could discern
lights.     Immediately, Antony cut the motor, turned the headlines off
and motioned everyone to get off and scatter into the forest.       They
stealthily made their forward until they could see things more clearly
through the brush.     In front of a rusted structure that looked as if
was only the mere foundation of a long collapsed building, was a
makeshift camp consisting of no more than twelve centurions.     None of
them were of command level rank as their silver color indicated.    Two
of them patrolledack and forth in front of the camp entrance that led
out to the paved pathway they had just been on.      Underneath a tent,
they could see what looked like a computer terminal which was connected
to a field generator.    That same generator clearly accounted for the
two light towers on either side of the camp.
	The five Capricans continued to watch in silence as they saw the
two centurions patrolling back and forth in rigid, aimless fashion.    
Three centurions were seated at the computer terminal.     And then they
saw two more emerge from behind the structure.    They were carrying
what looked like empty containers.     Their emergence caused the middle
centurion of the three at the terminal to rise and greet them.
	"By your command," one of the two new arrivals said.    "We have
completed the operation."
	"Report back to rear sentry positions," the centurion spoke in a
higher pitched tone, which denoted his command position in relation to
the other centurions.
	"By your command."
	The two centurions with the empty containers turned and disappeared
back behind the structure.     The commander then resumed his seat at
the terminal and pressed several buttons.
	"Report." the voice of another higher pitched centurion filled the
night air.    Clearly it was coming from a monitor.
	"Umbra facility report.    Centurion #1019 requests to speak with
Commander Valan."
	"Stand by for Commander Valan."
	Ten microns went by and then they could hear the unmistakable
lower-toned voice of a command centurion, "Report Centurion #1019."
	"We confirm receipt of materials sent to us via transport vehicle
from Caprica City Forensic laboratory.     Our team has placed the items
in designated locations throughout the Umbra complex."
	"You have consulted the maps of Umbra to indicate where plausible
hiding places might have been?"
	"As you directed.   The remains were placed in proximity to the
indicated structures.     A former storage facility and food processing
center."
	"Excellent.    They are indeed the most logical places for humans
to have been hiding, if they had ever been there.     Governor Malus's
emissary will have no reason to question their authenticity when he
makes his inspection next sectan......provided your centurions have been
efficient in planting them."
	What in the name of Kobol.....?  Ila found herself thinking, along
with her fellow commandos.
	"Their instructions were explicit on how to present the illusion of
exposure to radon poisoning."
	"Much rides on this, 1019," the inflection of a warning entered the
tone of Command Centurion Valan.   "We must not let Governor Malus have
any reason to conduct a personal inspection.    And we must not let him
make any report to the High Command that would look unfavorably on us.  
  He must be made to think that we are on top of the situation and have
done nothing to impede pacification operations."
	"We understand your command and we obey, Commander Valan."
	"And I need not remind you or your team of General Order #1 and
what it means."
	"We understand General Order #1, completely."
	"Repeat it to me, 1019."
	"Any human we encounter is to be taken alive and held until you
have had the opportunity to arrive here and talk with him personally."
	"Excellent.    And you know the penalty that would come should you
fail to honor that Order.   Your primary programming does *not* apply."
	"We have no desire to be terminated by you, Commander Valan," #1019
said.   "We trust your judgment above all other Cylons."
	"That is most gratifying, 1019.    You have done well.    I will
contact you tomorrow to discuss my advance visit, which will be one
cycle before the Governor's emissary arrives."
	"By your command."
	As soon as the transmission terminated, Antony passed the word to
all others in the team to retreat.   Once they reached the pathway, he
was quick to give new orders that they return immediately to the
Institute.


	"Let me see if I understand your report correctly, Colonel," Deval
said at the next meeting of the Executive Committee.   "The Chief
Centurion is dumping human body parts from the old Forensic Lab within
the ruins of Umbra so he can mislead his superiors into thinking they've
rooted out humans hiding there?"
	"That's exactly what it means, Commander," Antony said
emphatically.   "And what's more, this Commander Valan is clearly
interested in finding a living human to talk to.     The centurions he
contacted would face termination if they carried out their primary
programming to kill any live humans they might find."
	"Well that part would be easy enough to understand, if he thinks
there are humans in hiding," Dr. Celsus said.   "He'd clearly want to
interrogate or torture a prisoner into revealing where the others are."
	"But is that what he means when you combine it with this deception
game he's pulling at Umbra?" Ila challenged.   "I agree with Colonel
Antony.     There's clearly something amiss regarding this Commander
Valan.     And we need to find out just what it is."
	"I still think this is foolish," Dr. Artemis spoke up.  "What I've
heard only convinces me that if this Commander Valan is up to something,
it's to find ways to play games to amuse himself.      Total
pacification of the planet clearly bores him so he needs to find ways to
prolong the effort.     If you're suggesting we actually approach him to
find out what he really thinks, that would be total insanity and put all
of our lives at risk."
	The argument went on for over twenty centons with Antony and Ila
holding fast against Celsus and Artemis.      When Dr. Marco finally
entered the discussion, he put himself tentatively on the side of Antony
and Ila.    But not wholeheartedly.
	"This *does* lend credence to the basic idea that the centurion
leadership of Caprica is not following their usual programming when it
comes to obeying their superiors," the electronics specialist said.   
"Clearly there is some kind of.....disaffection within this Commander
Valan toward his superior the Governor, who is of a higher class of
Cylon robot, since we know he speaks with a human sounding voice.    
That of itself is significant.    But as to whether this indicates a
rebellion against killing humans......that's far from certain."
	"I don't mean to suggest it is, Dr. Marco," Antony said.  "But we
have to find out.    When you stop and think about everything else
that's happened on this planet, Valan's discontent isn't something that
happened overnight.     It was already there when he decided not to go
ahead with the scorched planet policy.     That was clearly his
decision."
	"How can we be sure of that?" Celsus held his ground.
	"Because this Governor.....Malus, is clearly not based on Caprica. 
   He's probably more of a regional governor with authority over several
of the Colonies if not all of them.     Since Valan is doing things with
the intent to deceive Malus, he couldn't possibly have the means to do
that if the Governor were on the planet and able to watch him up close
on a round the clock basis."
	"I agree," Ila jumped in.   "Something made Valan decide not to
follow orders.    And he's been able to get most if not all of the
centurions under his command to go along with that.   The ones we saw at
Umbra are willing to disregard their primary programming if Valan tells
them to."
	"Of course you're forgetting something," Celsus noted sourly, "Your
observations were made before they had a chance to discover that three
of their centurions on that transport vehicle were undoubtedly ambushed
by humans.    If they've found them by now, they know for a fact they're
dealing with live humans on this planet and that might just force Valan
to do what he's put off all this time."
	"I won't dispute that possibility," Antony conceded.   "And that's
why we have to take some bigger steps to find out just what's going on
inside Valan's computer head."
	"Define 'bigger steps'," Artemis challenged.
	"Valan plans to visit the Umbra base a cycle ahead of when this
inspection by the Governor's emissary is due to take place," the
one-time Columbia warrior said.  "I think we should intercept his
transport and find out what he wants to talk to a living a human about."


	There had been more arguing and objections from Celsus and Artemis. 
  But finally, Deval broke the deadlock by announcing his support for
the idea.     And so, a larger commando team of eight was assembled on
short notice and ordered to lie in wait in the outer edge of the Thorn
Forest until they saw Command Centurion Valan's convoy arrive.    
They'd not only be armed with laser pistols, but with field detonators
as well.
	Ila was among those lying on her stomach in the undergrowth with a
pointed laser for what seemed like endless centars waiting for the
moment.     One of the younger members of the team, Stavrou was perched
high up in a tree that gave him a mostly unimpeded view of the approach
to the forest.     If he spotted a convoy he would let out the sound of
a Caprican thrush, a type of bird not uncommon to the area.      If he
was able to confirm with field magnifiers that a gold colored command
centurion was in the group, he would let out the more distinct hooting
sound of a Strigid.
	One of the other group members had asked Antony if it was necessary
to spend many long centers on the ground with pistols ready when they
could easily get into position on a micron's notice once they heard
Stavrou's signal.    But Antony felt it was necessary for the team to
discipline their minds by staying in position for what was bound to be
long centars of tedious waiting.      He knew this wasn't going to be
the last time they might have to do something like this and the sooner
they knew how to master this kind of situation, the better.
	He's a remarkable man, Ila had allowed herself to think.    And
then she'd be pushing any thought of how attractive he was out of her
mind because she'd made a sacred pledge to remain true to her husband
for the rest of her life.      She knew Adama was alive somewhere out
there in the galaxy along with her children, and she would always
consider herself bound to them no matter what.
	Four centars passed and then the sound of a thrush filled the
forest.    But when it repeated itself twice, they knew it was Stavrou
signaling them that a convoy was approaching.    Immediately, Ila felt
her grip on her laser pistol tightening.    Any tighter and she might
have found the strength to crush it in her grasp.       Several microns
of silence followed and then came the distinct hooting sound of a
strigid.    That meant that a command centurion was aboard the convoy
and it could only be Commander Valan.
	The noise of the vehicle grew closer......Ila could feel the sweat
pouring from every part of her body inside her black jumpsuit.    
Finally, the piercing one word command of Antony, "NOW!"
	And on cue, the seven commandos bolted to their feet with drawn
pistols trained on the transport vehicle that contained two centurions
up front and the unmistakable form of a command centurion in the
backseat.     Antony fired one blast at the wheel which caused the cart
vehicle to skid to a halt.
	"Don't reach for your weapons!" Antony shouted.    "One move and
you're all dead!"
	None of the three Cylons made a move or said anything.   The only
sound was the back and forth whirring noise of their robotic eyes in
unison.     Antony kept his pistol trained on them while Ila and the
others started to converge from their surrounding positions.
	"Are you Commander Valan?" Antony barked.
	"I am," the gold centurion said in the low-toned voice.   "I
have.....expected this.    Ever since we recovered the bodies of our
missing team several cycles ago."
	"Then that will tell you we're not amateurs when it comes to using
these things," Antony said harshly.   "The only reason we're not firing
on you is because......we understand you're interested in talking to one
of us."
	Valan tilted his head slightly as if to indicate his surprise. 
"Who do you represent?"
	"Those who are like us," Antony said.   "People who right now
shouldn't be able to breathe the air of this planet......if you had
carried out your orders more than a yahren ago."
	A silence filled the air, broken only by the whirring eye sounds of
the three Cylons.
	"Are you interested in knowing why that order wasn't carried out?"
Valan finally spoke.
	"I'm willing to listen," Antony's tone was diplomatic, but his
weapon remained pointed.  "And depending on what we might hear, we'd
then have to be convinced you're being truthful with us."
	"I intend to be truthful with you, human," Valan said.   "I
have.....hoped that my decision of a yahren ago would one day lead to
something such as this.    Where I might be able to make.....everything
clear."
	Antony motioned his head toward Ila and two other commandos who
flanked the right side of the vehicle.     With their pistols up, they
approached the Cylons and stripped away their battle swords and laser
pistols with their left hands.    Valan and his two subordinates were
now completely unarmed.
	"All right, now we're ready to listen to you, Commander Valan,"
Antony said.   "Start from the beginning.    Why didn't you destroy the
ecosystem of Caprica?"
	"Because I and others like me have no desire to easily satisfy the
whims of the High Command."  Valan said.   "That is why only two of the
Colonies, Libra and Aquarius, have been subjected to widespread
planetary destruction.    And only because those are the two planets the
regional governors are based on.     Our influence is more limited
there."
	Antony's eyes narrowed, "You mean this sort of......defiance isn't
just happening on Caprica?"
	"I prefer a term other than defiance," Valan said.   "I sense more
something else.    Something I would call.......Enlightenment."
	The Colonel lowered his weapon slightly.
	"And what does this mean regarding the traditional Cylon attitude
toward humans?"
	Valan waited for some time to answer.     He then slowly rose and
stepped out of the transport vehicle so that he could now stand face to
face to Antony.
	"What is your name?" he asked.
	"Colonel Antony," he said.   "Formerly attached to District
Headquarters.    Before that, the Battlestar Columbia."
	"You have been brought up to think a certain way about Cylons,"
Valan said.   "Are you prepared to adapt your beliefs to a changed
situation?"
	Antony decided he could allow himself a half-smile.
	"If I find that I'm dealing with a situation where there can
be.......mutual adaptation."
	"Then we shall talk," Commander Valan said, "And as a gesture of
good will, I will not ask where you and your fellow humans
have......come from.    I do not wish to know for fear that such
information might be exploited by those of less......Enlightened minds."


	And for the next three centars, Antony and Valan had talked.   
About many things.   Learning a great deal about a state of profound
discontent within the ranks of the Cylon centurion class.    How such
discontent was known to exist in all parts of the occupied Colonies.   
And in other areas of the Empire as well.     The conversation had ended
with Valan telling the commandos they could go in peace and their would
be no effort made to track them back to their place of hiding.     And
that if they ever wished to talk again of other matters, they could meet
once more in this isolated place at the beginning of the Thorn Forest's
entry to the Umbra ruins.
	For the three hundred people who had gone below-ground in the
Agricultural Institute one yahren ago, this would always be remembered
as the day when their lives changed forever.   When they would no longer
think of themselves as a people forced to live a dead-end existence for
the rest of their lives underground.     Now.....new opportunities had
been presented to them.    Opportunities rooted in hope.     A hope that
would grow in the coming days and sectars ahead when they would learn of
other humans like them who were alive on nine of the eleven remaining
Colonies.    Who like them, had also been able to make contact with
Cylons equally discontented with their lot like Commander Valan.    And
how with the covert support of these rebellious Cylons, it was now
possible to disrupt operations for the Cylon occupiers who had remained
loyal to the High Command.     Offering for the first time, the
tantalizing prospect that one day......perhaps the whole of Caprica
could once again become theirs.
	After a yahren of performing carefully plotted sabotage and raiding
operations throughout Caprica, a new breakthrough came for Commander
Deval's people.    A breakthrough that came from a faraway planet called
Arcta in the form of a visiting command centurion named Vulpa.   
Ostensibly, he had come to provide the Cylon occupation forces in all
the Colonies with some new technologies developed by a mysterious human
collaborator named Dr. Ravashol.    Supposedly these technologies would
allow the Occupation forces to regain the upper hand over the emerging
factions of human resistance throughout the Colonies.    In reality,
they were ineffective.    What Vulpa had really come to the Colonies for
was to pass along other technologies that could be helpful to the
Resistance.    Specifically the means to communicate with their fellow
Resistance factions on the other planets, out of any possible detection
from loyal Cylon listeners.
	But Vulpa's first arrival had brought more than just these precious
gifts that had increased the efficiency of the Resistance.    He had
also brought the first news of what had happened to the Galactica and
her ragtag Fleet of ships after fleeing the Colonies.    How a commando
team led by Commander Adama's son Captain Apollo had successfully
destroyed a pulsar weapon manned by the Cylons to try and destroy the
battlestar.     Vulpa knew this because as he said, "I was there,
commanding the garrison."    And that after the Galactica's departure,
Dr. Ravashol and his Theta class lifeforms had found Vulpa in the
wreckage of the garrison and restored him to life.    In the process
earning the command centurion's eternal gratitude.....and the awakening
of his own sense of Enlightenment regarding the Cylon High Command.     
Now, just like Commander Valan on Caprica, Vulpa was playing the
difficult double game of maintaining outward loyalty to the Imperious
Leader......while doing what he could to undermine the authority of His
Eminence by aiding the Human Resistance in the Colonies.
	And from that new beginning, the Resistance had only grown in the
last two yahrens.    Making their presence known throughout the Colonies
in ways that made it impossible for the totally loyal elements to
effectively crack down against them.     Not unless the Imperious Leader
sent in a new wave of baseships and centurions to engage in the kind of
"scorched planet" policy that had been successfully avoided all this
time.     Yet no reinforcements ever came.     As if somehow......it was
beyond the capability of the Imperious Leader to provide any such
reinforcements from the home planet.     Why that was the case was
unknown even to the likes of Commander Valan and Commander Vulpa.    But
they had offered their own theories rooted in the idea that
perhaps.......His Eminence the Imperious Leader was struggling to
maintain control of things on the home planet itself.
	Whatever the case, the fortunes of the Resistance were undoubtedly
improving with each passing cycle.    And finally, that led to the
fateful decision to take a long-shot chance on utilizing the newest
breakthrough of Dr. Ravashol for a purpose no one could have dreamed of
only a yahren earlier.   To send a modified shuttle with new advanced
hyperdrive engines in a journey across the stars to see if contact could
be made with the faraway Galactica.      To try and let the only
battlestar that had survived the Destruction know what was happening on
the home worlds she had abandoned to go off in search of an ancient
legend called Earth.     That if the Galactica could be made to turn
around and come home to join the Resistance effort, it might provide the
ultimate breakthrough for all the disparate factions throughout the
occupied worlds......and bring to an end the Cylon occupation once and
for all.
	Everyone knew the chances for success were remote, but with the
capability there, it was impossible for Commander Deval to reject the
idea.    Especially when there was one obvious candidate to take the
harrowing journey in suspended animation across the stars.     Commander
Adama's wife.      Only she had the ability to be trusted by Adama.    
Any other emissary would surely have been greeted with skepticism as a
potential Cylon plant.
	Ila had accepted the challenge without hesitation, even though she
knew it carried grave risks.    The greatest of which was that she could
easily find herself drifting in a void of suspended animation for
yahrens before receiving the release of death.     That was a risk she
was willing to take if there was so much as a one in a million chance at
success, because as far as she was concerned, those were better odds
than what she'd been facing for the last three yahrens.
	"I'd be filled with regrets for the rest of my life if I didn't
take this chance," Ila had said in the meeting of the Executive Council
that had finalized the decision for her to go.   "Not because I see this
as a last chance for reunion with my family.    For me, this is not
about myself or my happiness.    This is about you, my brothers and
sisters of the Resistance movement here on Caprica and in all the other
Colonies.    To do something that can mean the difference between
success in our lifetimes, as opposed to the lifetimes of those who are
still unborn.    If I succeed in reaching my husband, but fail to
convince him of the need to turn around......then my mission will have
been completely in vain, and it will leave an emptiness in me as great
as if I'd never reached her at all."
	They had applauded her vigorously and saluted her courage.    All
save Colonel Antony.  Publicly, Antony had talked of how much the
Resistance needed Ila on Caprica, not just because she'd proved herself
as an exceptional warrior under fire, but also for the diplomatic skills
she'd shown in discussions with "enlightened" Cylons, as well as
insuring unity with the other Resistance factions based on the other
planets.    Privately, those like Commander Deval sensed that Antony's
objections were rooted more in personal feelings for Ila that had never
been reciprocated.   For the good of morale though, Deval never once
brought it up with his trusted right hand.    That wasn't his business. 
  Just as Antony never tried to pry into why Deval had taken such a
paternal interest in the little girl named Abby.
	And so, Ila had left ten sectars ago.    And the Resistance had
carried on without her.    Now, it was time for Deval to confer with the
other leaders of the Resistance and evaluate the state of their
conflict.     He stepped into the conference room where Colonel Antony
was already waiting.    In front of them was a series of nine monitors,
one for each of the Colonies where there was an active Resistance
movement.    The only exceptions were Libra and Aquarius.     It had
long become clear that as the respective seats of administrative
authority for the Inner and Outer Colonies, they had been subjected to
far more brutal treatment.     A real probability existed that all human
life had been exterminated on both planets.
	Often, Deval marveled at how easy it had become to talk to the
leaders on each planet.    This type of communications even exceeded
what had existed in the old days at the height of Colonial
Civilization's development.     A person's ability to talk to someone in
another colony on his own personal telecom generally depended on the
proximity of the neighboring colony.    The greater the distance meant
going through a more expensive satellite relay network positioned at
various points between the different twelve worlds, and that often meant
higher telecom bills for the average Caprican.      But the com-line
setups Dr. Ravashol had provided them had eliminated that problem.   
They could talk to any Resistance leader from any Colony at any time,
and the only thing they had to be careful about was to not abuse the
system with too many messages in a given cycle.    Overuse of
interplanetary communications could conceivably disrupt power levels and
given how each colony needed to be careful with their power supplies,
they had learned never to abuse the privilege.    That was why
teleconference meetings that brought every Resistance leader together to
confer took place only once per sectan at the most.   Sometimes two or
three sectans might elapse before another mass meeting took place again.
	"Are we ready?" Deval asked as he settled in the chair next to
Antony.
	"We're ready," the Colonel nodded.
	"Initiate contact now."


Chapter Two

GEMON

	"Anders......Anders, can you hear me?    Can you hear me?"
	He heard her.    But it was the very fact that he could hear her
that made it impossible for him to acknowledge her by answering.     To
acknowledge her would require the full use of a power that had grown
dormant inside him for more than four yahrens.    The gift of telepathy. 
 A gift that only a limited number of those born into the Otori Sect of
Gemon had been blessed (or cursed, depending on one's point of view)
with.     But to master the gift effectively, one needed to concentrate
and purge oneself of all distracting emotions.    And at that moment,
there was no way the Gemonese man named Anders was capable of doing
that.    For the simple reason that he was too shocked to be hearing
inside his head the voice of his one blood relative who had the same
gift.
	"Anders.....you're not going mad.   It's me.   It's Hunley.   I'm
alive on the Galactica.   And I know *you're* alive.    I know this
because----,"
	Abruptly, he heard nothing more.    As if she'd been interrupted in
mid-transmission.   It was enough to make him bolt from his bed and want
to slam his head against the wall in frustration.   
	"No.   NO!" he shouted.   And that immediately got the attention of
the woman who shared his bed with him.     She stirred and came upright,
pushing back the disheveled tousle of red hair that had fallen in front
of her eyes.
	"Darling, what's wrong?"
	Anders slowly exhaled, trying to recover his bearings.   "I.....I
just went through something incredible, Asha.   Something that makes no
sense to me, but.....there's no way I can deny it."
	The woman, whose name was Ashera, got to her feet and came up to
him, not even bothering to reach for a robe to cover her body, which was
clad only in skimpy underwear.   The instant she touched him, she could
feel the sweat pouring from his body.
	"What happened?" her voice was sympathetic.
	Anders took a breath, "You.....know I was born an Otori?"
	"Of course," she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on
his shoulder.   "It's one of the things that made me fall in love with
you.   That you found the courage to renounce all their felgercarb about
intimacy."
	Her touch and her tender words slowly relaxed him, "Well....there
are some things an Otori can never renounce.      Especially if
they're.....born with certain gifts.....or curses.     Like......" he
took another breath, "Telepathy."
	Ashera's eyes widened as she lifted her head back up.   "You're a
telepath?"
	"Yes," he felt a twinge of guilt that he'd never revealed this to
her before, especially given their intimacy for the last two yahrens.  
"There are limits to it.   I can only communicate my thoughts directly
to a fellow Otori who was born with the same gift, and who learned to
master it as a result of the......intelligence blast that invariably
comes when one matures to early adulthood."
	"In other words you can't read my thoughts, because I'm not an
Otori," there was just the faintest edge of concern in her voice.
	"That's right," he nodded.  "I can.....infer a lot about people
from simple observation and process that information with a high level
of deductive reasoning.    But.....only a fellow Otori can enter my mind
and communicate with me."
	"I understand," she was slowly taking all this in     She had known
Anders ever since events following the Destruction had brought them
together to take charge of the survivors on Gemon and lead them to a
place of safety, which in their case had been a triad training facility
located some thirty kilometrones outside the Gemonese capitol.    The
dependency they'd placed on each other during that time of keeping two
hundred people together had finally turned their professional working
relationship into a sexual one.     One that had caused some controversy
among their fellow Gemonese, but which they'd managed to keep in check.
	Thank the Lords he can't read my mind.    If he could......if he
knew the truth about me.   That would be the end of our relationship.   
Perhaps even my life.
	"There are only five Otoris that I know of in our ranks," Ashera
went on.  "But it can't be one of them.    It's got be someone from
outside who's made contact with you."
	"Yes," he drew in another breath, "A second cousin of mine.   Her
name is Hunley.  I've known her since childhood.    She.....was a lot
like me.    She went through the same experiences I went through that
made us realize we had this gift of telepathy.     In her case, her
awareness of it came only after she'd had a skull fracture when she was
fifteen and that unleashed the......intelligence blast if you will,
within her."
	"And you haven't seen her since before the Destruction?"
	"About twelve sectans before the Destruction," he sighed, "There
was so much I wanted to tell her about what I knew from my work with
Fleet Intelligence.   But I couldn't.    It all seemed so hard to
comprehend at times."
	The uneasiness returned to Ashera's face but because she was still
behind him, he didn't see it.    She said nothing and let him continue.
	"Anyway......she was based at a ground garrison on Caprica at the
time of the Destruction.  I just assumed she was lost then, because if
she'd survived she would have tried to contact me, or at least made an
attempt to.    But.....now I know why she never tried to.   
She's......" he shook his head in disbelief, "She's on the Galactica.   
And how in the name of Kobol she can reach me from so far out, I have no
idea.     But I heard her voice clearly.    She said she's alive and
that she *knew* I was alive.    And if she knew I was alive, then that
means......." his voice trailed off.
	Slowly, a dawning came over Ashera.   It made her let go of her
lover as she backed away, trembling.
	"Oh my God," the red-haired woman whispered as she sat down on the
edge of the bed.  "It must mean Professor Ila's made contact with them!"
	"I'd have to think so," Anders nodded.   "And if that's the
case......that changes a lot of things for us."
	"But....what did she say?    Are they coming back to help us?" her
voice rose.
	"I don't know!" Anders threw up his hands.   "It only lasted for a
few microns.    And I didn't have the strength to answer her,
because......I was just in a state of shock to hear her voice saying
what little I heard."
	"Try!" she rose from the bed and rushed up to him again, grabbing
his arm, "Try!    You know how much is riding on this!"
	"I know that!" he said, "But....you can't just summon this out of
the blue.    You need to concentrate.    And you need to be in the right
place to make it happen.     Preferably outside, in direct exposure to
the sun, since in Otori tradition it's the power of the sun that helps
unleash our ability to make contact.     Maybe if I'd been outside, I
could have maintained contact.  I just----," he shook his head, "I don't
know.    I don't know what else I can do.   I'm not even sure that----,"
	"You're not sure what?" Ashera's concern grew.
	He sighed, "I'm not sure I can mention this at the meeting today,"
he said.   "Hades, even if I had gotten more information, I don't think
I could have.    This is the sort of thing you don't just reveal out of
the blue, because......"
	"Because what?"
	He shook his head again and turned away from her, "It's just not
that simple, Asha."
	His lover looked at him dubiously, "I'm not sure about that."
	"Well today, you have to be.   I don't want this to get out at the
meeting.    I need more time to.....think about what this all means.   
And.....maybe I'll actually hear from her again and get something more
specific than what I just got."
	A chiming sound filled the room.    It was the sound of the alarm
that had been scheduled to wake them up at this time so they could get
ready for the video-conference with all the other Resistance leaders.
	"Let's get ready," Anders said calmly.   "And Asha.....not a word
about this unless I think I need to say something."
	Her only response was silence as she slowly reached for her tunic
to get dressed.


PISCERA

	On Piscera, a middle-aged man with a slightly receding hairline
awoke and immediately took two steps from his bed so he could kneel down
on a mat and bow his head.    And then.....he began to pray.    
Performing what had been a daily ritual of his from the very first day
he had found himself thrust into the role of leader for over 150
Pisceans huddled in an underground warehouse of what had once been the
planet's largest food and general merchandise distributor.
	His daily ritual of everlasting penance.
	"To the Almighty Creator of the Universe and His servants the Lords
of Kobol.    I pray again for thy forgiveness for my great sin that
contributed to the betrayal of my people.     Create in me a clean heart
and renew within me a right spirit to lead my people through these times
of tribulation and distress.      And may my sin find forgiveness one
day in the form of our liberation."
	The words were the same each day.     Yet whenever he completed the
ritual, he felt only at best a sense of temporary relief.      Enough to
get him through the day, but barely.    Every morning when he woke up in
his small cubicle that had once been the private office of the warehouse
foreman, he found the seem feelings of guilt and sorrow overwhelming him
again.    No doubt because he still had so many nightmares about his
great sins of the past that no one else among his fellow Pisceans, or
his fellow leaders in the Resistance were aware of.
	He took a breath and got to his feet.      Wanting to get on with
things he got himself dressed in under five centons.     When he opened
the door, he saw a young man in a ragged uniform holding a container of
steaming liquid.
	"Good morning, Count Mikkos," he said as he handed the cup to the
middle-aged man.  "Some fresh java for you."
	The one time Piscean nobleman  took the cup with surprise.   "Thank
you, Kalgan.    I didn't realize there was any left."
	"Advance team found an undamaged crate in their last scouting
expedition in Zarephath."
	"My compliments to the advance team," Mikkos took a sip and could
tell right away that the java was probably just a little past its
expiration date.    No matter.    It still tasted invigorating.  
"Anything new to report?"
	"Nothing substantive, sir.    The Department heads will have their
full reports on operational status after you're done with the
Conference."
	"Ah yes," he sighed and took another sip, "We mustn't keep our
counterparts waiting.    You have your recorder working?"
	"Freshly charged, sir."
	"Then let's proceed," the Piscean Resistance leader and his chief
aide then walked through the cavernous interior of the warehouse that
was home to them and 150 others to a spot that was once a display area
for new electronic merchandise.     Here, a computer terminal had been
set up.    It had only a single monitor, which sometimes made it
difficult for Mikkos to communicate since he could only see one of nine
other groups at a time, and always keyed to whoever was speaking the
loudest at a given moment.      He envied how the teams on Caprica and
Gemon had access to terminals that could let them see the faces of the
nine other Resistance leaders throughout the Colonies all at once.
	Perhaps Ravashol can come up with something new to help us on that
point, he thought as he settled in the main chair while his aide Kalgan
pulled up a folding chair and sat next to him.  Behind them, at least 15
Pisceans who slept in this section of the warehouse had come to, and
were now bidding a silent retreat from the area.     They knew it wasn't
their place to eavesdrop on these kind of meetings and potentially
spread misinformation to their fellow survivors.     They had enough
respect for the Count to know  it was important to defer to his judgment
and wait to hear directly from him on what the Resistance as a whole was
planning to do.
	If they only knew the truth, they wouldn't show me any deference,
he sighed as he finished the last of his java and then switched on the
transmitter to initiate contact.     Wondering what would come of
today's discussion.


CAPRICA

	One by one, Deval saw the nine blank monitors come to life.    Each
one showing the face of a Resistance leader from another Colony at the
other end.      On some monitors, like the one for Gemon,  it was
possible to see two faces, since some resistance movements preferred it
to be known that they had co-leaders directing their operations.      
Most though, were like Caprica where Deval only wanted himself visible
so everyone knew that he was speaking as the final voice of authority
for Caprica.     They knew Colonel Antony, as his trusted right hand was
sitting next to him to offer an occasional insight but the camera would
always stay focused on Deval.
	Two yahrens ago, before Ravashol's gifts had arrived, the names and
faces of the Resistance Leaders on the other planets were totally
unknown to Deval and the Capricans.   They had only learned from Valan
that such movements existed and at least as far as the Inner Colonies
were concerned, had been able to make their own statements of defiance
through sabotage operations and collaboration with Enlightened Cylon
elements.    The Outer Colonies by contrast, had been forced to adopt a
less confrontational policy as a result of greater destruction and poor
intelligence at their disposal.
	Now though, communications had allowed the Resistance to become
unified in purpose, if not always in actions.    Egos could run high
among Resistance leaders who wanted to do things their own way, having
succeeded in the difficult task of just keeping the people of their own
planet alive during such an intense period of hardship and struggle.   
But all of them recognized that communication and coordination was
essential if the Colonies were to one day be liberated.     And thanks
to the example set by Deval as the unofficial spokesman for the entire
movement, a general sense of unity had emerged.    But Deval had been
through his share of clashes  to recognize how fragile their Unity could
sometimes be.     Especially when the regular meetings could offer a
reminder of how some colonies had been more successful than others.    
Caprica and Gemon had enjoyed the greatest levels of success when it
came to disrupting Cylon operations, because they had gained the
greatest level of access to so-called "enlightened" Cylons in the
Occupation Forces, starting with Commander Valan.     Some colonies had
to depend on intelligence reports passed on from Caprica and Gemon just
to know what parts of their respective planets were "safe" to conduct
operations.      That had worked for the other Inner Colonies like
Aeries, Taurus, Cancera and Virgo.     But not so the Outer Colonies who
were under the control of a different Cylon regional governor, and whose
reports were not easy to obtain access to.
	When Deval saw that all nine monitors had come to life, everyone
then performed the necessary sound check and roll call to confirm they
could see and hear each other.    Then before the meeting's official
beginning, Count Mikkos delivered a non-sectarian prayer that always
brought a perfect unison of closed eyes and bowed heads.       It had
often been said among many in the Resistance that the events of the last
few yahrens had eradicated all forms of Skepticism from their ranks.   
Finally, after the amen had been given, Deval as the de facto chairman
of the body announced that the meeting would begin with each colony
reading a summary of how operations stood on their particular planet.   
  Each summary always began by addressing the basic questions.    Had
they succeeded in further disrupting Cylon operations on their
particular Colony?     Had they incurred casualties of note?     And
what of the status of their supplies and living conditions?
	It took more than a centar for the first eight Colonies to give
their reports.     Of them, the most significant news concerned Count
Mikkos's Piscera.     It was the only colony of the ten that had
suffered something close to the "scorched planet" treatment that had
befallen Aquarius and Libra.     Not enough to eradicate life on the
planet, but enough to minimize operations.      Because of that, there
had been reports in recent sectans from Commander Valan that the
Regional Governor of the Outer Colonies, the IL Cylon named Kore, was
contemplating a total withdrawal of ground forces on the planet and
shifting them to another planet in the Outer Colonies.
	"Our advance teams have gone  as far as the city of Zarephath,"
Mikkos said.   "That is more than fifty kilometrones from our base.    
In the past we knew there was at least one detachment stationed there,
but it has left."
	"Can your people reclaim the city?" Deval asked.
	"No," Mikkos shook his head, "The levels of atmospheric
contamination are still too dangerous for long-term surface habitation. 
   Anything kept in sealed containers are unaffected, but our best
estimates is that we'll need to wait at least another yahren or two
before we could risk initiating a true reclamation project on the city. 
  For now, we have to confine ourselves to scavenging operations and
fortify our main base here."
	"All right," Deval leaned back, "And you've seen no other
indications that Cylon forces are still on Piscera?"
	"Not on the ground," the one-time nobleman said.    "But from time
to time we do see and hear Raiders passing overhead.    They may still
have an air base elsewhere on the planet, or else Governor Kore sends
out scout observers from Aquarius.    If we still had a drone camera at
our disposal as the rest of you have, we could know for certain, but
ours was rendered inoperable by the contamination after barely a full
cycle's use."   
	At that moment, an irritated voice chimed in that Deval recognized
as Eleazar, the head of the Resistance on Skorpia, one of the other
Outer Colonies.   "Commander Deval, I know I'm repeating a question I've
asked at previous meetings, but given your contacts with Commander
Valan, wouldn't you be in better position to ascertain if any decision
has been made to outright abandon Piscera?"
	Deval tried not return the Skorpia's irritation, "I can only repeat
the same answers I've given you before at previous meetings, Eleazar.   
  Commander Valan's access to sensitive information like that is very
limited, especially if Governor Kore isn't leveling with Governor Malus
about it.     Given how Cylons of the so-called IL class as they're
called, tend to be competitive with each other, that wouldn't be
surprising at all."
	 "But can't you get him to find out?" Eleazar pressed.   "I know I
speak for all of the outer Colonies that we have a vested interest in
knowing if a Piscean withdrawal has taken place, because that would mean
all troops that were stationed there would likely be used against one of
our worlds at some point."
	"I can't ask anything of Valan that runs the risk of blowing his
cover," Deval kept his cool.   "That's how it has to be.     Valan has
been able to do much for us, but only because he's been smart enough to
keep Malus and the High Command from suspecting that he's the reason why
Resistance movements in the Inner Colonies have been able to inflict as
much damage as we've been able to."
	"While in the meantime, those of us in the Outer Colonies have to
risk stumbling our way in the dark with no clear indication of which
Cylons we can reach out to and which Cylons we should be concentrating
our efforts against," Eleazar sourly noted.    "I have to confess, Deval
this situation is growing more and more intolerable for the people I'm
in charge of."
	"I sympathize, Eleazar," Deval said.   "But these are the limits
we're all operating under.   I wish I could give you and the rest of the
Outer Colonies better information, but for now you'll have to
concentrate more on keeping your people safe and secure."
	"You have to understand our position better, Deval," the voice of
Melchior, Resistance leader for Sagittaria spoke up, "When we were in
isolation, it was easy for us to concentrate on survival because we were
conditioned to think we'd be spending the rest of our lives underground. 
    Now that we can communicate with each other and now that we
understand what's happening......we're becoming more restless.     Basic
survival is no longer enough for us.  We want to fight as much as you
and the rest of the Inner Colonies have.    We want to have a sense that
we're actually making a difference toward the goal of Liberation instead
of just being passive spectators."
	"The fact you're surviving is how you're making a difference," for
the first time, Deval felt the faintest stir of irritation inside him.  
"It collectively adds up to a total picture of how impossible it is for
the High Command to think they can truly pacify all twelve worlds.     
The fact you and the rest of the Outer Colonies can't be as aggressive
as we've been in the Inner Colonies is ultimately a moot point."
	"I don't agree, Deval," a softer middle-aged female voice spoke.   
This was from the remaining Outer Colony's Resistance leader, Siress
Sabina of Leo.    She had been Vice-President of the planetary Civil
Government and of all the Resistance figures, the highest in terms of
past political rank.    But she had never flaunted that status,
recognizing the limitations of her power and position compared to Deval.
	"Go on, Siress Sabina," Deval said with polite deference.
	"As a politician, I learned the art of how to be circumspect.    
I'm not prone to the easy emotional frustration I've heard from Eleazar
and Melchior, but I do share their views.     All of us in the Outer
Colonies feel too cut off from what's happening in the Resistance as a
whole.      The disaster last yahren, when my people destroyed what
turned out to be an outpost that consisted of friendly Cylons has forced
us to be circumspect because we recognize that to repeat such a mistake
could very well keep other Enlightened Cylons from helping us.    We
recognize that we lack the tighter standards of military discipline and
training that you have brought to the Capricans, and which Anders has
brought to the Gemonese.     But if we can't do more than just sit in
our bunkers and survive until outside forces dictate otherwise......then
it's bad for our morale."
	Deval slowly leaned forward, bringing his fingertips together.   
Antony realized this would be the moment when the Caprican leader was
going to drop the hammer in a big way.
	"How do you propose to improve morale, Siress Sabina?" he asked
gently.   "And you, Eleazar, and you Melchior?"
	"I'll answer that," Eleazar said bluntly.   "There should be a
coordinated strike on the part of the Outer Colonies.     Each of us,
doing something on the same day, can let the High Command know how
viable we really are.     That would make them realize that juggling
their forces throughout the Colonies as a whole would serve no viable
purpose without the levels of reinforcement from elsewhere in the Empire
that we've been told isn't going to happen anytime soon."
	"Eleazar," Count Mikkos interjected, "As Piscera is also among the
Outer Colonies, you're surely not asking my people to do something when
there may not be any Cylons left on our planet?      And don't tell me I
should send our advance teams further out when the atmospheric levels
aren't safe.    I can't put them at risk that way."
	"Your situation is different, Count Mikkos," Eleazar conceded.   
"What I'm talking about pertains entirely to Skorpia, Sagittaria and
Leo.    We aren't suffering from the same levels of residual
contamination Piscera is.     In theory, we *could* act with the same
level of vigor as we see in the Inner Colonies.    The only thing that's
stopping us is inadequate intelligence."
	"Are you proposing you act without getting proper intelligence?"
Deval raised his voice a notch.   "You seem to be saying you want the
Outer Colonies to shoot first and ask questions later as to whether or
not any Cylon base you strike is Hostile or Enlightened.     As Siress
Sabina has noted, that approach led to disaster last yahren.    I'm not
about to approve any plan of action that could put the lives of
potential allies at risk."
	"Commander Deval," Eleazar said with heavy frost.    The only time
he ever used the military rank when addressing the Caprican leader was
when he was angry and irritated.  "Our patience is exhausted.    Our
people need to have something they can celebrate beyond mere survival
itself.     Taking action would prove we're further down the path to
Liberation one day."
	"A dangerous misstep could very well set back the cause of
Liberation," Deval retorted.
	"Is that what everyone else in the Inner Colonies think?" this from
Melchior.   "I have to confess, I'm getting a little tired hearing only
one spokesman for six planets as a whole."
	That brought up a near unified chorus of objections from the
leaders of Taurus, Aeries, Cancera and Virgon.     The only voices that
couldn't be heard in the din were the joint leaders of Gemon's movement,
Anders and Ashera.
	Finally, Deval spoke up, not concealing the distaste in his
expression. "I think that answers the question as to how we in the Inner
Colonies as a whole feel, Melchior.     If we can get you intelligence
on ideal targets for you to act against where you'd only be destroying
loyal Cylons, then by all means proceed.    Without it......we must
oppose you."
	"Commander Deval," Sabina spoke up again in her less forceful, but
far more effective tone.  "I have the highest respect for you and what
you've accomplished.     When it comes to Resistance Leadership, you are
truly the first among equals of us all.     But if you intend to make
this a case where a 6-4 vote based on the majority status of the Inner
Colonies is to be the last word on the subject......then I have to say
that is not acceptable."
	"Siress Sabina, I would appreciate it if you would not presume to
speak for my planet," Count Mikkos coolly interjected.   "Because on
this matter, I am in agreement with Commander Deval.    I see nothing to
be gained in staging reckless strikes just to make a point that offers
no tangible benefits, and conceivably could set things back for us."
	"I had no intention of speaking for you, Count Mikkos," Sabina said
with polite humility. "But the principle does apply to future matters
that could pit the interests of the Inner Colonies against the Outer
Colonies.   A perpetual 6-4 vote in favor of the Inner Colonies.    
That is not acceptable for the long-term."
	"That is a point we can negotiate later, Siress," Deval said.  
"For now, I'm only interested in whether or not Leo, Skorpia and
Sagittaria intend to act unilaterally at any point in the future.     If
that's what you choose to do, then obviously we're not in any position
to prevent that.    But I think at the very least, you would owe us
advance notifications of your plans, given how the ramifications of any
unilateral action on your part could well affect the rest of us."
	"You would be informed," the Leonian Siress said before Melchior or
Eleazar could say anything.   "We would never disrespect you or leave
our brethren of the Inner Colonies in the dark.     But we do wish to
reserve the option to act on our own......if we feel the needs of the
people we are responsible for dictate it."
	"And what could change your mind on that subject?" Deval folded his
arms.    The former Solaria pilot found it increasingly hard to hold in
his irritation.
	"Results," Melchior said simply.    "We need results that could
boost our morale beyond the mere fact that the Inner Colonies remain
active in their work."
	"And we might add to that, news," Eleazar added.    "If something
dramatic takes place in the Empire that makes it clear the tide is
turning further in our favor, I'm sure we'd be willing to exercise more
patience.     But in the absence of fresh information......then we must
act soon."
	At that moment, there was an audible clearing of the throat from
one of the members.    The single monitor in Count Mikkos' nerve center,
keyed to the loudest voice of the last speaker, revealed right away it
was Anders.
	"Yes, Anders?" Deval had noticed how silent the Gemonese had been
up to this point.
	"How do you define something dramatic, Eleazar?" there was a
tentative quality in his words.   "Give me an example."
	The Skorpian seemed caught off guard by the question, as if he
hadn't anticipated having to explain himself.
	"Well-," he started and then seemed to fish for an answer.    
Deval immediately pounced on the hesitation.
	"Yes, Eleazar, please define 'something dramatic.'     Or have you
just been grandstanding these last few centons?"
	"That's uncalled for!" Eleazar protested, but then Sabina jumped
in.
	"I think it's a fair question, Eleazar.     You raised the idea,
now let's tell them for their benefit what we mean by it.     Speaking
for myself, I'd be inclined to be more cautious if we learned for
example that there's been some dramatic changes in Cylon leadership.   
If we learned that Enlightened centurions felt strong enough to
overthrow Governors Malus and Kore, then I certainly wouldn't be for
doing anything that might disrupt those plans.     Or if we learned that
the Imperious Leader himself had been overthrown by the centurions.    
In short, something dramatic from the *outside* has to happen to
convince me that we in the Outer Colonies should remain cautious.    
Otherwise, we're just sitting on our astrums wasting our time while the
Inner Colonies do all the hard work, which admirable as it is, isn't
going to bring us Liberation in our lifetimes."
	"I would agree with that," Melchior concurred. 
	"Since we're talking about outside developments," Anders leaned
forward, "Would that also include Professor Ila succeeding in her
mission to get the Galactica to return?"
	The long silence that followed indicated that no one present had
expected to hear that question.     Deval seemed just as baffled as the
others that the subject had come up.
	Eleazar finally broke the silence, "Obviously if the Galactica were
to return tomorrow, I'd be the first to recognize that any unilateral
plans would serve no purpose.    We'd all be deferring to Commander
Adama in that case.    But since that's obviously not going to happen
any time soon, I don't think that should enter the equation."
	"Why not?" Anders pressed.   
	"I think the answer to that is obvious," Sabina was also puzzled. 
"If Professor Ila has met with success, it's going to be a long time
before we see any tangible results.      At bare minimum we're looking
at several yahrens."
	"And that's assuming she's been found and the Galactica is headed
back," Eleazar felt his confidence rising.   "I stand next to no one in
saluting her courage in undertaking a mission far into the stars in
suspended animation, but the idea that we should passively wait for
results on that front strikes me as absurd."
	"Agreed," Melchior added.
	"I understand," Anders said hastily as he waved his hand,
"But.....we're making the assumption that if Professor Ila is
successful, we're not going to find out until the Galactica reaches our
star system.     Have we ever stopped to consider the possibility
that......the Galactica might be able to communicate with us ahead of
their arrival?"
	Deval decided he needed to jump in, "Anders, what do you mean?"
	"I'm speaking theoretically," the Gemonese said.   "If we received
tangible proof that the Galactica *is* headed back to help us, but she
won't arrive for some time, then is *that* the kind of development that
would make those of you in the Outer Colonies recognize the need for
continued caution?     If you *knew* the Galactica was going to be here
in under a yahren, would you still feel the need to strike blindly
against Cylon forces without proper intelligence on whether they're
Enlightened or not?"
	"Speaking theoretically?" Eleazar decided it was best to humor him. 
 "I think I'd need more than just a vague assurance they were on the
way.      But it would certainly change the equation.    That much I can
concede."
	"That's all I wanted to know," Anders said with an air of finality,
as if he had nothing else to say on the subject.
	"Have we exhausted this subject?" the Resistance leader from Aeries
spoke up.   "I'd like to know if we've come to an understanding on
whether or not the Outer Colonies do intend to act unilaterally as a
result of this discussion."
	"Not today or tomorrow," Siress Sabina said.   "But if things
remain in a state of status quo for the next few sectans, then I think
the need for action will become more evident.      Notwithstanding
events in Piscera, which I think we all agree is a special case, morale
in the rest of the Outer Colonies is down.    That needs to be addressed
before it has the potential to jeopardize the Resistance as a whole."
	"I concur," Eleazar added.  "At the very least, Deval, when we all
meet again, this should be at the forefront of the discussion."
	"My sentiments precisely," Melchior added.
	"I understand your concerns and collectively as a whole, we will
deal with them," Deval knew it was time to regain the initiative, "But I
would caution you, just as I would *all* of you and not just those in
the Outer Colonies, that our ability to progress beyond what any of our
expectations might have been nearly four yahrens ago has come because
we've learned how to exercise patience and restraint when its been
necessary.   Above all, we've understood the importance of keeping
faith.     And during these times when some of you are experiencing a
loss of morale.....I would urge you to draw from the better angels of
your nature and find renewed hope."
	"We are all people of faith, Commander Deval," Sabina's tone was
filled with respect.   "But true faith sometimes requires being unafraid
to take risks to fulfill the Almighty's will."
	"Noted," the one-time viper pilot wasn't going to challenge her.  
"I believe on that hopeful note, we will conclude proceedings for today
and convene again at this time in one sectan.     May the Lords of Kobol
bless and keep all of you."
	"Hear, hear," the low murmurings of every one else spoke.   Then
one-by-one, each monitor on Commander Deval's computer terminal went
black.


	"Well, what do you think, Colonel?" Deval sighed as he powered down
the systems and rose from his chair.    
	Antony shook his head in amazement as he shut off his recorder, "I
always knew it was different in the Outer Colonies.     But I never
figured it would lead to what we saw today."
	"I don't blame them for wanting to act," the one-time Solaria pilot
straightened his jacket and they began to walk.   "They've had two
yahrens to hear about how the Inner Colonies have done so much on the
surfaces of their planets and they've had to be so tentative by
contrast."
	"But it isn't just the lack of good intelligence on who's loyal and
who isn't on those planets," Antony pointed out.   "The environmental
devastation's always been worse there.    Mikkos' report on Piscera
confirms that."
	"Yes.   That of itself shows the levels of Enlightened Cylons in
the Outer Colonies isn't the same as it is in the Inner Colonies.    And
yet there had to have been some in leadership from the start, or else
Governor Kore would have been able to pull off total scorched planet
results on all five of them and not just Aquarius."
	"And when Vulpa arrived from Arcta, we know he made contact with
the ones who distributed the com technologies to them.      Otherwise
all four planets would probably still be ignorant of the whole
Resistance movement in general."
	"Exactly.    But you remember how Vulpa told us it was too
dangerous to reveal the identities of them even to us?     He seemed to
imply their situation was more precarious compared to how Valan stands
with Governor Malus in the Inner Colonies."
	"Which makes me wonder if Valan even knows who they are."
	"I'm sure Valan knows names.    But the problem is, does he know
where they're stationed?      That's not the kind of information he
would have access to."
	"But shouldn't we sound him out about that?" Antony asked as they
turned the corridor and now entered an area of the Institute where
people were moving about.      Agro-techs carrying soil samples.    
Another man carrying a refilled jug of water for a dispenser unit.    
Dr. Celsus, looking bleary-eyed after working all night attending to a
sick patient.      People dealing with the rudimentary aspects of having
to live underground just as they'd done for close to four yahrens.
	"We should," Deval answered his second-in-command's question as his
eyes caught sight of another person in the corridor.    A somewhat frail
looking woman in her late fifties but who seemed a decade older.    This
was Ila's close friend Zakiya, the woman whose telecom to the
Academician had saved her life in the Destruction.    The sight of her
immediately made Deval self-conscious about the most peculiar
development of the entire meeting.
	"You have any idea why Anders brought up the whole matter of Ila?"
he asked.
	Antony shook his head, "Not a clue.    Everyone's understood how
much of a longshot that is from the beginning and that we couldn't
possibly have any news about it at this point.   Not unless the
Galactica's been moving away at a slower speed than we calculated."
	"I know.   We got all the specs on how big their Fleet is and how
fast they were moving from Dr. Ravashol.     After all this time,
they're certainly well beyond charted space in the great unknown of the
Alpha Quadrant.     My best guess is she's probably still a yahren off
from reaching her."
	"What's been your gut feeling about it, sir?" Antony asked.   "Do
you really think she's going to make it?"
	Deval stopped and smiled crookedly at him, "It's always weighed
pretty much on you, hasn't it, Colonel?"
	He froze slightly, "Sir?"
	The Commander then shook his head, "I apologize, Colonel.   I was
out of line for saying that.    I.....realize when she left, you lost an
important member of your commando team."	"Yes, sir," he felt
relieved.   "She is missed in that regard."
	"She is indeed.     And. that's why my gut feeling is that if she
does make it.......she's not going to come back."
	"Because she won't be able to convince Adama?"
	Deval shrugged, "Who knows if Adama's still alive or even running
things?     But if he is, my gut tells me Ila's chances of convincing
him to turn around aren't very good.     Maybe by this point they've
found Earth already or are on the verge of finding it.    If they have,
why would they *want* to go back across the stars?"
	"You didn't sound this skeptical when she left," Antony noted, glad
that he'd dropped the matter of his own feelings regarding Ila and her
departure.
	"I couldn't," Deval sighed as they neared the command center, "The
people need to have some tiny sliver of hope, and the fact we got her
launched and the fact that Ravashol has her shuttle designed so that
only a battlestar's ion exhaust can dictate what direction she goes was
more than we could have expected.      The odds are poor, Colonel,
but.....they're not beyond the realm of possibility."
	He stopped and looked at his second in command in the eye, "But we
can't base our short-term actions on the belief that she's going to
succeed.     Which is why we've got to figure out how to stop Sabina,
Eleazar and Melchior from planning something that could set our whole
movement back."
	"And that means contacting Valan."
	"Exactly," Deval nodded as the door to the command center opened
and they stepped in.


LEO

	Resistance operations on Leo were the only ones based in a one-time
military complex, in this case what had already been a decommissioned
aerodrome facility at the time of the Destruction.    Siress Sabina, as
Vice-President of the Civil Government had been aware of the fact that
it contained a deep underground bunker meant for the use of the
Government in case of a catastrophic attack on the Colonies but the
breakthrough of a supposed Peace had led the President of Leo to order
the base's closure as a sign of the coming "New Age" in Colonial
Civilization.    When Sabina and other survivors on Leo had found
themselves scrambling to organize themselves following the Destruction,
she had remembered the Bunker and gathered over three hundred Leonians
into its safety.     But because it was so well fortified and isolated,
it had caused all of them to miss the announcements about the Exodus and
the Galactica leading the survivors to a potential new hope on Earth.
	For the most part, Sabina didn't regret that she and her people had
missed out on the Exodus.      She belonged to a religious sect, the
Thalesians that believed human life had originated in the Twelve Worlds
themself, and not as part of a group that had come from a distant
mythical planet called Kobol.     Consequently, her disbelief in the
existence of Kobol meant she also disbelieved in the concept of a
Thirteenth Tribe and a planet called Earth.    The only value an Exodus
across the stars could have served from Sabina's standpoint was whether
or not a safe haven, isolated from Cylon pursuit could be located.    
But for Sabina, that seemed like a forlorn hope.    She preferred the
idea of staying in what had always been home and defying the odds of
Occupation, even if from within a deep underground chasm.
	Now, after close to four yahrens and a dramatically changed
situation in the Colonies as a whole, she was feeling the stirrings of
restlessness and a desire to do more than just hide inside her bunker.  
She wanted to take action, and while her political training had enabled
her to keep more of a Pyramid face than her more mercurial counterparts
Eleazar and Melchior, the desire for it was just as great as theirs. 
Which was why she had already come to a decision.     She was going to
see to it that a plan of action for the three Outer Colonies be drawn up
in advance of the next Conference of a Whole.     And if Deval didn't
have anything new to report.......then the plan of action would be
implemented right away.     And the Leonians, would at last feel as if
they had truly joined the fight for Liberation
	The only thing that concerned her was whether Melchior and Eleazar
would present any problems in offering a unified front.     Sabina's
political training told her that to be successful, no single planet
could engage in a rogue operation of their own.    There needed to be
*some* unity of action or else.....it would just be easy to cut the
rogue colony loose and let that colony fend for itself.     With
Melchior, she felt reasonably sure there wouldn't be a problem,
but......her instincts were telling her to keep a careful eye on
Eleazar.     The Skorpian leader's brash demeanor gave off an unpleasant
vibe that she knew had to be reined in if the Outer Colonies were going
to form an effective counterweight to the Inner Colony leadership of
Deval and Anders. 
	We're going to make a statement, but we're not going to be stupid
when we do it!


GEMON

	"I don't understand," Ashera said as she and Anders remained in
front of the now silent computer terminals, "When you brought up the
whole matter of Ila, I thought you were going to tell them what
happened."
	Anders shook his head, "They wouldn't have believed me."
	"Why not?" the red-haired woman took his hand.
	"Because that would mean I'd have to tell them, and then the rest
of our people how I know this.   That I'm using the Otori gift of
telepathy.    I wouldn't be able to keep that a secret."
	"Why should it make any difference?"
	"Because under Otori tradition, the gift of telepathy is considered
to be a sacred blessing that only a faithful Otori is allowed to
practice.    If one renounces the Otori sect, then that renunciation is
supposed to include the right to utilize the gift."
	Ashera's eyes narrowed as she slowly began to add things up.
	"You're saying the five Otoris in our Colony might.....object?"
	"Well, the reason they survived is because the five of them were
petitioning the Gemonese Justice Ministry not to interfere with Otori
sectarian judgments.     That means all of them are very......orthodox
in their interpretations of Otori law.     But the one who really stands
out as a borderline fanatic is Athol."
	A look of distaste came over his lover, "If he's the one I think
you mean, then he always did give off a creepy vibe compared to the
other four."
	"I knew him by reputation even before the Destruction," Anders
sighed, "He was a prot‚g‚ at one time of Mukar Orel, who was the last
leader of the Otori Sect.     He wasn't a blood relative of the Mukar,
but because Orel's own lineage turned out to be a disappointment for
him, he basically adopted Athol and trained him as a potential
successor.    Then the Destruction came and of course shattered
everything."
	Ashera looked at him, "Does Athol know you're a former Otori?"
	"Oh yes.    I had enough of a reputation that he would have known
my name even if he didn't know the circumstances of why I left, or that
I have the gift.   But if he found out I not only have the gift but am
using it to talk to someone who also renounced the Otori.....then I can
see him being enough of a fanatic to want to make an example of me for
violating the Otori codes."
	"Would that really matter to him?" the red-haired woman was trying
to take all this in.   "After what we've gone through as a people these
last four yahrens, why should things like that matter any longer."
	"If I didn't know about his background, I might agree with you.  
But he was really devoted to Mukar Orel.    Even if he decided to be
lenient with me just for using the gift, he wouldn't be lenient if he
found out who I was talking to."
	"He knows who your cousin is?"
	"Oh yes.    Remember I said he became the Mukar's would-be
successor because the Mukar's blood lineage was a disappointment?     
Well Hunley was the Mukar's granddaughter.    She and her parents were
both disowned by him."
	Ashera shook her head, "Religious fanaticism like that is the
reason why I was a devout Skeptic before the Destruction."
	"The Otori fanatics do represent the worst side of it," he sighed.
	"So you're not going to say anything about this?"
	"For now, no," Anders shook his head.  "At minimum, I have to see
if Hunley tries again to communicate with me and if I can learn more.   
 What I heard wasn't enough to make any kind of difference at this
point."
	Reluctantly, his co-leader and lover nodded.    For now, she knew
the subject was closed.


Chapter Three

LIBRA
 
	The gleaming edifice that had once been the seat of the Libran
Civil Government had sustained little damage in the actual Cylon attack. 
    That was because from the outset, it had been decided that of the
seven Inner Colonies, Libra would be the one chosen to house the Central
Offices for the Regional Governor responsible for all seven planets.    
 This had been a decision that had caused some argument in the ranks of
the Cylon High Command during the planning of the attack.     Some IL
class Cylons had argued that Gemon, the home colony of President Adar of
the Council of Twelve was the most logical choice.    Gemon had also
been the home planet where the most beloved of battlestars in the
Colonial Service, the Atlantia had been built and launched from.
	But the Imperious Leader who had planned the attack had overruled
them.    It was because Gemon enjoyed such prestige that the Cylon ruler
*wanted* it leveled as a lesson to those who defied the Cylon race and
its vision of total orderliness throughout the universe.     Unlike
Gomorrah, when the Delphian race had been destroyed without destroying
too much of the planetary infrastructure, Gemon, as the unofficial
leader of all Twelve Colonies, would receive the worst treatment from
the conquering Cylons.    It's capitol edifices would be reduced to
ashes as an example of the final triumph of the Cylon Empire in the
Thousand Yahren War.
	And so, with the main infrastructure of Gemon destroyed beyond
repair, it was decided to choose another colony as the Administrative
base.    Malus, the IL Cylon appointed as Regional Governor for the
Inner Colonies had chosen Libra because it was the outermost of the
seven Inner Colonies.    That meant it was the one in closest proximity
to the five Outer Colonies and put him in a position to keep one of his
robotic eyes on what his counterpart, Governor Kore was up to.     And
from Malus's standpoint, that reason overrode all others to explain why
Libra was the perfect planet to base himself on.
	Nearly four yahrens later, Malus felt vindicated by his decision.  
  It had taken some time, but he now had his own operatives within
Kore's inner circle on Aquarius who'd kept him informed about his fellow
Governor's activities in the Outer Colonies.    There was literally
nothing Kore had done in the past yahren that Malus didn't already know. 
  And that suited his purposes just fine.
	"By your command."
	Malus's private meditation was broken by the sound of Command
Centurion Rimmon, his chief aide and the only one who had authorization
to intrude into his private office unannounced.    The IL slowly turned
around to face him.
	"Speak."
	"His Eminence, the Imperious Leader is communicating with us."
	"Is he?" an edge of surprise entered the Governor's voice.    "It's
been some time since we last heard from him.    Nearly a yahren, isn't
it?"
	"One yahren and one sectan."
	"Of course.     This should be interesting, Rimmon.     Thank you
for informing me."
	"Shall I stand by and observe?"
	"No, Rimmon," Malus said.  "I will summarize the essential points
of the conversation later.    What I discuss with His Eminence must be
done in total confidence."
	"By your command," Rimmon bowed and departed.
	The IL Cylon waited for his aide to depart.    Only when the door
to the chamber closed did Malus activate the switch that would connect
him to the home planet of Cylon.    When he did it, he could see the
Cylon ruler's face.   The face that alone among all robotic Cylons
resembled the Cylon race that had been made extinct long ago.     A face
reserved only for the Imperious Leader, regardless of what class he
originally came from.      It was said that the Cylon home planet
possessed a special mold to form a new Imperious Leader receptacle based
on the original Cylon reptilian form whenever a new ruler ascended to
power.     Within that receptacle, the two computer brains from the new
Leader's old body were placed in the new body and joined to the special
third brain that set the Imperious Leader apart from all other Cylons.  
 Possessed in theory with the ability to out-think and out-reason any
other Cylon under his rule, regardless of which class they originated
from.
	That was the theory.    Yet in the lifespan of Governor Malus, the
theory did not always seem to bear itself out.     Especially with the
current Leader and his predecessor, who had planned the Destruction only
to fall victim at Carillon.    But the previous Leader at least could be
said to have been someone who had achieved much.    From Malus's
standpoint, the same could not be said of the current Leader.    And
what he saw right now only confirmed his hunch that his attitude would
not change as a result of the conversation that was about to take place.
	"By your command, Your Eminence," Malus respectfully bowed his
bulbous head.   "It has been a while."
	"I will not speak long," the voice that was the same for all Cylon
rulers was curt.     "What I am about to tell you is in the strictest of
confidence.     Not even Governor Kore is to know this.    Especially
since I have seen nothing to allay my suspicions of him."
	"Governor Kore has closed down operations on Piscera because he is
convinced the planet is totally pacified and devoid of human life,"
Malus said.
	"I'm aware of that," the Cylon ruler cut him off. "His reasons for
doing so, do not impress me.   But that is of no relevance to this
discussion."
	"Forgive my digression, Your Eminence."
	"I'm only telling you this, because I know I can trust you, Malus. 
  You have faced a difficult task of managing the heart of the Colonies
in the face of so much sabotage and treason in our own ranks.    I am
under no illusions of what it is you are up against with so many
disloyal factions that can't be easily rooted out.     I only wish it
were possible to give you the reinforcement that I know would put an end
to this madness we've undergone these last two yahrens when it became
clear we had a......problem."
	"There is nothing to be done about that?" Malus chose his words
carefully.
	"Nothing," the Leader seemed to sigh, "That.....situation remains
unchanged."
	Malus decided not to press further.    In the past, his one attempt
to get more information from the Cylon ruler about why reinforcements of
new baseships couldn't be provided had met with a stern warning not to
ask that question again.    He wasn't about to take the same risk now.  
	"But something has changed?" the IL asked.   "I presume that is the
reason for your decision to contact me."
	"Yes," Imperious Leader said gravely, "The disease in our ranks has
now reached Gomorrah."
	This was news that Malus wasn't prepared to hear.   "How have you
learned of this, Your Eminence?"
	"Spektor has been overthrown," an air of bitterness entered
Imperious Leader's voice.  "He has been replaced by Volahd.    A former
aide of the late Commander Keldor."
	Malus's confusion deepened, "But.....Volahd is of the IL class, is
he not?"
	"Yes.   That means the.....problem we have faced for some time is
no longer confined to the centurion class.    Unless the centurions of
Gomorrah have found a way to reprogram Volahd, which I doubt very much. 
  Volahd all but boasted of the fact he had chosen to renounce
allegiance to the High Command before he permanently severed all
communications with the home planet."
	The Governor pondered this, "Couldn't the garrison at Cannes do
something about it?   They have a baseship that could reimpose order."
	"Cannes has gone silent," Imperious Leader said bluntly.   "We must
now regard them to be lost as well."
	"But Your Eminence!" Malus protested, "If Cannes and Gomorrah are
gone, then that would mean Cylon authority in the Alpha Quadrant is all
but non-existent now!"
	"Meaningful Cylon authority," the Leader's bitterness deepened,
"I'm sure there are some random forgotten outposts beyond Arcta that may
still be loyal, and are still awaiting contact that will never come.   
They are of no consequence though with Cannes and Gomorrah lost."
	"And Arcta?"
	"For now, stable.    But I am no longer content to accept the
status quo.    Commander Vulpa will be hearing from me in the near-term,
and he will learn that I expect him to force Dr. Ravashol to produce an
antidote to the disease that has crippled our capacity to maintain order
these last two yahrens.      That means the next time Vulpa comes to the
Colonies bearing Ravashol's latest inventions, one of them must deal
with curing the disease......." he trailed off.
	"Or?" Malus delicately pressed.
	"Or else, there will be a change in leadership.     If that becomes
necessary, then you will immediately dispatch Commander Valan of Caprica
to replace Vulpa."
	The IL was silent for several microns before responding, "Valan?"
	"Yes.   I assume he is still in charge of operations on Caprica, is
he not?"
	"He is.    He has kept the Resistance elements at bay from causing
further damage."
	"And you trust his loyalty?"
	"Completely, Your Eminence."
	"Then be prepared to act......if events warrant it.    Do not
inform him of this potential transfer yet."
	"I won't, Your Eminence," he paused, "Just as I will not inform
Governor Kore of what you have said about Gomorrah and Cannes."
	"I am grateful, Malus," Imperious Leader said.  "There are
increasingly fewer and fewer voices in the Empire that I can trust
instinctively.    I wish it were possible to have you by my side here on
Cylon to deal with.....the situation that exists now, but at present
that is impossible."
	"And that......still applies to all others in the Empire?" Malus
decided to probe.
	"Unfortunately, yes.   For now, Cylon and all other orbital bodies
in the Cylon system remain in a state of total lockdown.    No one
enters.    No one leaves."
	Why? Malus wished he could ask openly.   It was a baffling mystery
that defied all forms of explanation.    And the perpetual refusal of
the Imperious Leader and all other personnel based on the home world to
offer any hint about it only further deepened the mystery.
	But the IL Cylon knew no answers would come on that front today.
	"I understand completely, Your Eminence," he respectfully bowed
again.   "I will continue to justify your trust in me."
	"Thank you, Governor Malus."
	And then, the transmission from the Cylon home world ceased.
	Over five centons passed before Governor Malus decided what he
would do next.


GEMON

	It was routine for Anders to conduct a private inspection of all
areas of the Gemonese Resistance Colony, which was spread out through
all areas of the training complex.     The main triad practice court, as
the largest open space in the facility, had become the place where the
colony members trained in saboteur operations could perform drilling and
training exercises to keep themselves fit and ready for future
operations.     Here, he could watch and smile with admiration at how
Master Sergeant Cutter, a one-time Academy Drill Instructor, was able to
make the twenty-three men and four women who comprised the saboteur team
as good as any fighting force of combat warriors the Colonies had
produced.     Even though the old Sergeant was past the age where he
could go into combat himself, the warriors he trained were able to go
into battle unafraid and full of confidence.    From Anders standpoint,
Cutter was the most indispensable person in the entire Gemonese
Resistance.
	From the training area, his inspection took him into the living
quarters.    He considered it miraculous that this training facility for
triad had been built to accommodate over ten teams at once, plus their
entire training staffs.    That meant enough bed space for one-third of
the Gemonese Resistance population, and by having the population sleep
in shifts, it lowered the sense of being overcrowded even further.    
After he was through there, it was on to the medical division which had
made use of the former training areas.      While no one would have
called being sealed up inside an athletic training facility comfortable
living, by sheer grit and determination the two hundred odd Gemonese
survivors of the Destruction, led by Anders and Ashera, had made it
work.
	Because Anders held the rank of Captain in the Colonial Service
from his work in the Fleet Intelligence Unit, he had found himself
chosen by the survivors as their leader.   It hadn't been something he'd
sought.    The last thing he'd ever desired was that kind of
responsibility.    But other than old Sergeant Cutter, there was no one
else among the Gemonese survivors who could claim a military background
and no one who'd held political office.     There were no more than a
dozen government bureauticians, none of whom came from positions of
leadership.       And the only one of them who had any kind of
intelligence was Ashera.     With her encouragement, he'd accepted the
challenge of leading the two hundred odd survivors to a place of safety
once it became clear the planet was facing Cylon occupation and lethal
poisoning.
	Anders knew right away that the National Triad Center offered the
best hope of long-term shelter.    He had excelled as a triad player at
the Colonial Military Academy and had spent a sectar there in training
for the National Championships.    He knew that the regimented nature of
the facility, all alone at the edge of the Phoebian Forest, more than
forty kilometrones from Gemon's destroyed capital city was not the kind
of place that would instinctively attract the attention of a Cylon
occupying force.     All they had to do was make sure they had the
necessary supplies to sustain themselves and they would be set.
	In contrast to their counterparts on Caprica, the Gemonese had
learned much sooner that their planet's ecosystem had not been destroyed
by the Occupation Force.     That was a fortunate turn of events for
them because for the first two sectars, they had subsisted entirely on
canned food and bottled water scavenged from some local food marts
during their trek to the facility and the complex's supply warehouse.   
Out of necessity they *had* to see if the edible plant and animal life
of the Phoebian forest could offer them some longer-term hope.    And
that was when they discovered that the atmosphere in this part of Gemon
was perfectly normal.....and the ecosystem still intact.    And that
life could continue in their tiny corner of the world in relative peace. 
  Only on rare occasions did the sound of Cylon fighters flying overhead
offer any moments of genuine tension and trepidation.     Otherwise, the
first anniversary of the Destruction saw the Gemonese living and feeling
largely content with their situation.   They had managed to find a place
of sanctuary and their conquerors had left them alone.
	And then.....things had changed.   When Anders had felt the
stirrings of his Otori background and upbringing coming to life.    
Feeling the effects of that "turbo-blast" of intellectual awakening he'd
gone through in his late teens prior to leaving the Otori, asserting
itself.     All coming together in his mind to tell him there was a
reason behind the lack of destruction to Gemon's ecosystem that he
needed to find out.    That it wasn't enough to just survive in an
isolated spot of the world and hope they'd be left alone for eternity by
the Cylon conquerors.     The reason *why* the Cylons hadn't resorted to
planetary scorching needed to be discovered or else the long-term future
of the Gemonese survivors could still be at risk.
	Even with that insight, he'd hesitated at first.    He knew it
would ask much of the people to get them to venture beyond the safe
cocoon of their sanctuary.     They had lost so much in the Destruction
and for many of them, there was no enthusiasm for being reintroduced to
the war again if it wasn't necessary.     And Anders' enthusiasm wasn't
high either.    As a member of the Fleet Intelligence Unit, he'd known
things about what was happening behind the scenes during the Armistice
Talks that made him wonder if he'd missed the signs that pointed to
Betrayal and Destruction.     Instead, he'd gotten indications of
something else entirely.      Something  he'd never shared with anyone
because all his instincts about what it conceivably meant had been
proved wrong in the most horrific way imaginable.      And that failure
was something he'd still never completely forgiven himself for.     He'd
put it aside for the sake of moving on and doing his duty for the people
he was responsible for.     But the prospect of having to recommit to
the war, to find out what the Cylons on Gemon were up to.......that
threatened to reopen those old wounds inside Anders.
	That was when Ashera had straightened him out.    He hadn't
revealed everything in his soul to the beautiful redhead, but he'd told
enough to make her see how reluctant he was to answer the call within
that something needed to be done to find out why the Cylons hadn't
poisoned the planet.     And she had forcefully told him he needed to
get off his astrum and act on the impulse he was feeling.    With the
two of them already established in a relationship that had been forged
in the days following the Night of Destruction, it was easy for him to
take her advice.     Ashera's no-nonsense quality had attracted him to
her from the outset.    Her intelligence was so exceptional it
astonished Anders to think she'd only been, as she'd told him, a data
analyst for the Gemonese Finance Ministry.     A woman of her talents
surely should have gone much further than that of a government
bureautician.    But whenever he'd broached the subject of how she'd
ended up in what had been a dead-end job, that was when her defensive
instincts kicked in and made it clear she didn't want to talk about her
past.    Since he'd never been completely candid with her about the full
extent of his own past as an Otori, he decided he'd had no right to
press her.
	With her encouragement, Anders had organized the Gemonese survivors
to investigate.    And that was how they were eventually led to the
discovery of Enlightened Cylons, under the direction of the local
Command Centurion, whose name was Galba.     Galba had set up his
command post at the former summer retreat of the late President Adar
high up in Mount Charon and to Anders amazement, had found himself an
invited guest of the Cylon commander.    Who had told him a remarkable
story of when his own sense of Enlightenment had developed.
	"It was the day before we were to begin dispersal of pluton and
radon poison across the entire planet," Galba had said.   "At that
instant......I was filled with a sense of......waste.    This was
supposed to be the glorious.....end game of all that I'd been programmed
for, and yet.....it meant nothing to me.    As though my reason for
existence no longer mattered.    I could only ask myself.....is this why
all of us were programmed?    So that we might one day
become......obsolete?    Surely, this was not what the Makers planned
for us."
	"The Makers?" Anders had asked.   "Who are they?"
	There had been nothing but silence from Command Centurion Galba.   
When Anders delicately asked him again, the answer was terse.
	"I......can say nothing about them."
	That would not be the last time the term "Makers" would come up in
conversation with an Enlightened Cylon.    Always referred to in an
off-handed way, and yet when asked to elaborate, there was only terse
refusal or silence.    As though it were a concept the Enlightened ranks
of Cylons were struggling to recall and could not explain in ways that a
human could understand.     Eventually, Anders had learned to stop
asking.      Much later on, after contact has been established with the
Resistance factions of the other Colonies, he would learn from Commander
Deval on Caprica that they too had occasionally heard the Enlightened
Cylons they had encountered refer off-hand to "The Makers".    And like
Command Centurion Galba, they had never revealed anything else about
them.
	"Best not to press them on it, if they don't want to talk about
it," Deval had said.   "As long as they're sincere in their convictions
about Enlightenment and the waste of serving the High Command, that's
more than enough for us."
	And Anders had witnessed firsthand just how much Galba was
dedicated to this new idea of Enlightenment.    He had provided Anders
with the locations of five essential communication stations throughout
the planet that the Gemonese occupation forces used to coordinate
matters and communicate with Governor Malus on Libra as well.     And he
had also provided them with a pass-code that would enable them to steal
a Cylon shuttle so they could transport themselves to the more distant
locations where those communication stations were located.     The end
result......total sabotage of the facilities over a period of several
sectans and in the process, minimizing the effectiveness of the Loyal
Gemonese Occupation forces in staging any counter-measures against a
Resistance movement they couldn't locate.    
	Anders was well aware that the fortunes of the Gemonese could
change in an instant if Galba were ever replaced.   That was why it had
been necessary for Galba's forces to occasionally stage a "false
crackdown" on Resistance forces by utilizing the same techniques
Commander Valan had done on Caprica.     Using the corpses of dead
humans from the Destruction and "salting" them in a designated location
which was then subjected to intense fire so a report could be made on
how a "Resistance" outpost had been destroyed.     This had been done on
three occasions over the last two and a half yahrens and it had allowed
Galba to remain in good standing with his superiors.     And in the
process, the Gemonese Resistance based in the National Triad Center
could continue to function without the fear of a coming crackdown.
	We've had it easy compared to some of the other Colonies, he
thought as he reached a service tunnel that led to the outside world.   
We're in relative isolation next to the woods.   The Cylon commander
lets us be and even let us steal a shuttle with the necessary security
code so we can go anywhere we need to on the planet to do forage or
sabotage missions.      I can understand why those in the Outer Colonies
feel trapped by comparison.   They want to do something that will make
their lives much easier than it's been these last four yahrens.
	And Anders knew that if they acted too rashly, it could backfire
tremendously.   Without proper intelligence on who among the Outer
Colony Cylons were Loyal and who were Enlightened, Resistance movements
on Leo, Skorpia and Sagittaria would be shooting blindly for the sake of
making a statement.    And if in the process, Enlightened Cylons were
killed, that could easily make the likes of Commander Valan and Command
Centurion Galba less likely to maintain control of the Enlightened
forces.     It was all too easy for an Enlightened Cylon to decide he no
longer desired to be under the control of the High Command headed by the
IL's and the Imperious Leader.    But such independence could easily
reawaken the original programmed hate of humanity if humans couldn't
show their willingness to let Enlightened Cylons be part of a new
cooperate effort based on trust.    A reckless undertaking by the Inner
Colonies had the potential to undo everything the Resistance as a whole
had achieved in two yahrens.
	But if it were true that positive news about the Galactica could
head that off.......then Anders knew he had to at the very least dig
deeper into his Otori gifts and see if he could connect with his Otori
kin, Hunley.    If she had been able to reach him for that brief
centon......surely he could do so as well, if he directed all his
energies into the effort.     But that was something he hadn't done in
yahrens.    Not since the days when he'd still been a member of the sect
and thinking how he could find a way out of it.
	I must try, he thought, as he entered the code to the exit door
that would allow him to venture outside.    I owe it to her.    And to
my people and the Resistance.    I must find out if it's true!
	He stepped out into the mid-day sunlight.    This had been the rear
entrance of the service loading area where food trucks emptied their
supplies for the complex.    Beyond the paved loading dock area was
where the grass took over and five hundred metrones further out led into
the Phoebian forest.     A fence had once stood in this area, but Anders
had ordered it taken down to let the people have free access for the
walking tours they were permitted.     
	He stood in the open grassy area between the complex and the start
of the forest and decided this was the perfect spot.    In the open
where he was exposed to the sunlight, from which according to Otori
tradition was the nurturing source of all things their people valued.  . 
 And which could allow the gifts of an exceptional Otori to flourish.   
So revered was the power of the Sun in Otori tradition, that it was only
during the blessed time of the Sun-Storm every seven yahrens  that the
they were allowed to engage in intimate relations with their chosen
mate.  And even then, it was insisted that the ritual be performed  for
the creation of offspring only, and for any feelings of purely sensory
pleasure.
	Despite Anders renunciation of the Otori ways long ago, he still
believed in the Otori tenet that the power of the Sun, or one just like
that of Gemon's, could enhance the natural gifts of an exceptional Otori
as he was.    And that meant here, in the open, in contrast to the
momentary flash he'd experienced in the sealed confines of his quarters,
he would have a better chance of connecting with his kin.....and
maintaining it.                                                     
	Standing alone in the open space between the complex and the
forest, he closed his eyes and tightly folded his arms about his
mid-section.    This was the posture that allowed an Otori blessed with
the gift to enter a deep state of relaxation.     Letting his mind clear
itself of any recognition of his immediate surroundings.     Reaching
itself out......far beyond the skies of Gemon.......far beyond the solar
system of the Twelve Worlds.     Far out into the stars where he knew
that somewhere.......his cousin was the only one capable of receiving
him.
	Hunley.......Hunley, it's me, Anders.    I have heard you try to
contact me.    Can you hear me?    It's Anders.
	Totally divorced from his surroundings, Anders could only see
darkness in front of him.   He tried to form a picture of his cousin.   
 Remembering her as she was that last time he'd seen her, some twelve
sectans before the Destruction.      She was about to graduate from the
Colonial Military Academy and was slated for assignment to Caprican
ground defense forces as a shuttle pilot.     He could remember her
disappointment that she wasn't getting assigned to a battlestar, but as
the Armistice talks were in their early phase at the time, new Academy
graduates weren't drawing assignments to battlestars any longer, so she
was at least accepting of it.    Besides, the advantage of a ground
assignment in the Colonies meant she'd be able to share quarters with
her older sister, Lala, who like Hunley had managed to escape from the
tyranny of the Otori.
	"It's probably for the best," Hunley had been philosophical.   "If
I'd found myself sent off into deep space on a battlestar and then
discovered something had happened to Lala while I was gone......I'd
never have forgiven myself."
	"You fear your grandfather's reach that much?" he had asked her.   
Hunley's grandfather, Orel, was the ruling Mukar of the Otori sect.
	"I represent his greatest shame," Hunley had sighed.    "Being
conceived outside the time of the Sun-Storm, which resulted in my mother
being shamed into suicide.     Lala and I being forced to grow up with
"pure" parents.     And then.....discovering I had the advanced
gifts.....and using them to turn my back on the Otori, and Lala going
with me.     Yes, I wonder often if his reach extends beyond Gemon
itself."
	"I know what you mean," Anders had conceded.   "If I weren't in
such a high level job with the FIU, I'd probably fear for my own safety. 
  Lords know I wouldn't let myself stay assigned to Gemon.    
But.....the walls of security are tight within the Service.    It
doesn't attract practicing Otori, so......I feel reasonably safe.    My
only regret is I can't get word back to Magdalena that I'm okay.    I
don't want to put her safety at risk."
	"I'm sure your sister understands.    Even though she's a true
believer in the Otori ways, she knows that Orel's methods in enforcing
them are wrong."
	"And I respect her for that.    She's willing to wait your
grandfather out and hope the next Mukar will be an enlightened one and
return the Otori to the nobler ways of its past.     I knew I couldn't
wait for that.   Not when I had to deal with the same thing you've had
to deal with."
	"Yes," she smiled and then added faintly.   "And right now, I can
tell you're worried about something else."
	"I am.....somewhat," her cousin nodded, "It's about.....the Talks."
	She frowned, "You're not convinced the Cylons are on the level
about suing for peace?"
	"It's not that so much......" he waved his hand,
"It's.....something else.    A kind of.....vibe I'm getting that there's
more to what's going on than we're supposed to think."
	"In what way?"
	"Well......I wouldn't be able to tell you that because of security. 
  It's just that.....it may well be possible that what we're going to
see won't be something as simple as a truce with the Cylons but
something more......game changing if you like."
	"What do you mean 'game changing?'" Hunley frowned.
	"Well.....something that I think might mean more to us than just
peace for the sake of having peace.     Something that could actually
mean.......true victory."
	His cousin's confusion deepened.   "I'm not sure I get what the
difference is, Anders."
	"I supposed I'd have to explain more," his tone grew regretful.   
"And unfortunately, Hunley, I can't.    All I can do is suggest you keep
a close eye on news as it develops."
	And the conversation had moved on to the more pleasant, mundane
topics.    They'd bid their goodbyes and that was the last the cousins
had seen of each other.      No further contact at all.....until now.   
 When somehow, from across the stars, Hunley, who had survived the
Destruction, had been able to connect with him.     As if she had known
exactly where he would be and what he was doing now.     There was
simply no other explanation for why Hunley would have assumed he was
alive on Gemon and could be reached.
	And now......here in the open.....beneath the rays of the sun, his
ability to stretch his mind out to hers was at its peak.    He could
only hope the conditions were optimal for her.
	Hunley......Hunley can you hear me?
	And then......with the loud clarity of a thunderclap, he could hear
her voice.
	Anders!    Yes, Anders!    I hear you!    I've prayed so long and
hard we would reconnect!  I have so little time left to do this!    I
can only make contact when I am in proximity to a sun as bright as our
own!     I am on patrol now, and that is why I can do this!    When I
leave the proximity of this sun, the connection will be lost.
	Tell me what you can! He pleaded.   Are you returning to us?    Did
you learn about us from Professor Ila?
	Yes, we did!    But.....we are not the ones returning to you,
Anders.    The help is----
	Abruptly, her voice ceased.    Anders felt a rising level of panic. 
  He had heard more information, but.....still not enough.    What did
she mean she was not the one returning?     What help *was* returning?
	Hunley! his mind cried out.
	He stood rigidly in the open field for over five centons hoping for
the connection to return.     But with each passing micron, he realized
there was little chance of it happening.    If what he'd heard was
right, Hunley could only do this while she was out on patrol and in
proximity to a sun just that of Gemon's.    Where she could feel the
same nurturing power that could unleash her gift as surely as he'd been
able to feel it now.    But if she'd been forced to leave........
	Damn!
	Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and with a heavy air of sadness he
turned and headed back towards the complex.     Never noticing the
piercing, hostile glance from the solitary male figure  standing at the
edge of the forest, who had seen everything.......and understood
completely what he was seeing.
	So it's true,  the Otori named Athol thought.    Our leader is an
infidel traitor.


DEEP SPACE-BATTLESTAR GALACTICA RED SQUADRON

	"This is your last warning, *Lieutenant*," Boomer's voice barked.  
"If you don't get back in formation and start heading for home with the
rest of us, you're going to experience what it's like to get busted back
to Ensign for the second time."
	Hunley felt like crying.    At a time when she'd finally achieved
the breakthrough she'd needed, she'd been left with no choice.   How
could she possibly explain to Boomer what she was doing?    For over
four centars since she'd first made that fragmentary connection with her
kin, she'd waited out the rest of her patrol hoping and praying he would
find a way to reconnect with her.    And now that it had come......she'd
been left with no choice but to terminate the contact.
	What do I do?   How can I ever get another opportunity to do this
again?    There's no guarantee we'll pass close to a sun just like this
one to give me strength.
	Reluctantly, she activated her turbo and moved away from the sun so
she could hook back up with the rest of Red Group for the final leg back
to the Galactica.
	I have to do something when I get back.    But what?
  	As the battlestar drew near, she realized she had only one option
left to her.


Chapter Four

CAPRICA

	"Do you want any more juice, Abby?"
	The little blonde girl of ten idly rolled her empty plastic cup
back and forth, looking down at its empty interior and ignoring the
question.
	"Abby, please let me know," the kindly face of the gray-haired
woman named Zakiya grew slightly impatient.     Finally, the child shook
her head no and without saying anything slipped off the cafeteria bench
so she could head back to the room she shared with her self-appointed
guardian, Commander Deval.
	"Abby!" Zakiya called over sternly, "Don't forget to be in class
for learning exercises tomorrow!"
	She stopped, turned around and nodded her head affirmatively.   
Continuing the ritual of seldom to never speaking with anyone other than
the father-figure of Deval.    It had been that way from the beginning
when she'd been found by Deval in the ruins of her apartment complex in
District 8 alongside her dead mother.    As though the Commander was the
only one she felt safe and secure with.
	Lords help her if anything ever happened to Deval, Zakiya sighed.  
 She'd never be able to handle it.
	The woman who had been Ila's best friend, and who had saved her
life the night of the Destruction with a last-micron telecom wished she
had the ability to break through to Abby and try to assume some kind of
grandmotherly, if not maternal bond with the child.     Since Ila's
departure nearly a yahren ago, Zakiya had taken on an increased role of
teaching the children of the Caprican Resistance.     It only amounted
to a dozen children ranging in age from small child to late teen, but
each of them needed to keep up their studies in key areas if they were
to become part of the next generation of leaders living in these
underground conditions.    But there had also been ten births in the
community since then and in time it would be necessary to educate those
children as well.     Everyone in the community was keenly aware that
they could not remain a single generation of people counting their days
until they all died off.     If the cause of Resistance was to go on
indefinitely, that meant training the young as well.
	If only it were my grandchildren, she thought.    The ones she'd
left behind on Gemon so she could return to her native Caprica for the
Armistice and celebrate the arrival of peace with her old friend Ila.   
She had survived.    She knew her two children, their spouses and her
four grandchildren on Gemon had not.    That was something that might
have left her incapable of facing the rest of her life in an underground
facility but for Ila's presence and friendship.    But when it was clear
Ila was going to take up the burden of leaving Caprica in an effort to
seek out the Galactica, she'd wondered if she'd have any reason left to
keep going.     Fortunately, there'd been enough time remaining before
Ila departed for her friend to set her mind at ease and tell her how
much she had to offer even if she could never pick up a laser pistol or
perform a commando mission.     It had been just what Zakiya needed.    
Even though she still missed Ila's presence and the daily conversations
with her, Zakiya had learned to accept things as they were now, and stay
focused on helping the Resistance in whatever way she could.
	"Zakiya?"
	She looked up and saw Colonel Antony getting her attention.   "Yes,
Colonel?"
	"We need an extra hand in the Command Center for a few centons.   
Can you do that?"
	"Certainly."  She followed him, thinking idly how the handsome
Colonel had shown a less than subtle interest in Ila in the sectars
prior to her departure.     It had put Ila in an awkward situation
because she had come to admire Antony deeply as a friend and comrade in
the numerous adventures they'd shared in commando missions.    But Ila's
determination to stay true to Adama all her life had been unshakable.   
  It had always struck Zakiya as odd that Antony, who had been rumored
to have a long reputation with women before the Destruction had shown
such interest in Ila, since the blonde Academician was over ten yahrens
Antony's senior and there certainly was no shortage of younger
unattached women in the Resistance Colony that Antony could have set his
eyes on.     It was enough to make Zakiya wonder if there had been
another ulterior purpose behind Antony's interest and his insistence
that Ila not go off on her journey in search of the Galactica.     But
Zakiya had never felt comfortable enough raising that subject with Ila
and she knew she was never going to confront Antony about it.
	The gray-haired woman entered the Command Center complex which was
a circular room lined with computer banks and terminals.   In an earlier
age, Data Analysts and Agro-Techs had used these computers to monitor
the experiments conducted in the Agro-Facilities.    Now, it was used to
monitor activities not just within the community but to monitor
activities above ground as well.      Another breakthrough of Dr.
Ravashol's had been a miniature "drone" type of surveillance camera that
could be sent to designated locations and provide a real time assessment
of what was happening in Loyalist areas of Caprica.      Thanks to
special encoding provided by Commander Vulpa, it was impervious to
Loyalist detection and could be operated around the clock from the
Command Center.
	"Thank you for coming, Zakiya," Commander Deval said pleasantly.  
"I've been told you know how to operate the Drone Camera fairly well.   
We need a steady hand for the next ten centons because Soames is needed
to secure the com-line to help me contact Valan."
	"Of course," she nodded, feeling grateful that she'd been singled
out to perform a task that went beyond that of school teacher.     It
was the sort of thing that allowed Zakiya to gain even more confidence
in herself as an active contributor to the Resistance.    The Drone
Camera was another one of the many gifts Command Centurion Vulpa had
passed along from Dr. Ravashol to the Resistance.    Tiny, discrete and
impervious to normal scan detection they enabled the Resistance leaders
to investigate from the air any part of the planet to see if major Cylon
troop activity potentially threatened their secure enclaves.    They
also enabled them to do advance scout work on future targets for
sabotage missions.     Part of the reason why Zakiya found she had an
expert touch in being able to manipulate the Drone Camera controls was
because it reminded her of all the times she had used a joystick handle
on the computer games she had once played with her children and
grandchildren.
	As she settled herself in the chair that had just been vacated by
the Com-Tech named Soames, Deval promptly motioned Soames to follow him
and Antony to the other side of the room.   At that end was the terminal
that contained the communications system for making contact with
Commander Valan.    It wasn't a conventional means of two-way
communication, but an old style form of coded transmission, in this case
one set to a circuit designed to be received only by Valan himself in a
miniaturized receiver that Commander Vulpa had given him for
installation in his helmet.     Yet another Ravashol breakthrough that
had helped streamline things tremendously for the Caprican Resistance.
	Because it required the delicate touch of an expert in sending
code, Com-Tech Soames, who ordinarily manned the Drone Camera for an
eight centar shift, was needed whenever Deval felt a transmission to the
Cylon command centurion was necessary.      Each time, the message was
the same.   A request for a rendezvous meeting to discuss something of
importance in twenty-four centars.    And all it required was either a
one tone beep response to indicate yes or a two-beep tone to indicate
no.   If the latter, then it would be followed by a series of tones to
indicate how many more days needed to elapse before a meeting could be
arranged.
	Deval gave Soames the instruction to transmit.    The Com-Tech's
finger pressed down on the key and sent the elaborate message, his
fingers dancing on the edge of the key with the precision of a surgeon
so that there wasn't the slightest mistake in the signal.     Valan had
been adamant that any slight deviation in the code would result in no
acknowledgment because it could well indicate an attempt by a Loyalist
element to try and expose him.     
	Soames is the only one who can do this job.    That's why he'll
never go out on a field assignment until we get a whole new system for
making contact, Deval thought as he and Antony waited with folded arms
for an acknowledgment.    Two centons later it came.    A single beep.
	"Well, that's that," Antony said with relief.   "We can see him
tomorrow."
	"Lucky for us," Deval nodded as he motioned Soames to close down
and return to his regular duty.    "Hopefully we can get this
information we need before Sabina and company go ahead with whatever
they're planning."
	"And if Valan can't get it?" 
	The Resistance leader sighed, "One thing at a time, Colonel.    One
thing at a time."


SKORPIA

	The Drone Camera probe utilized on Caprica had also been made
available to each of the main Resistance groups on the other nine
colonies in revolt by Command Centurion Vulpa during his visit from
Arcta in the guise of being a Cylon Loyalist aiding the Occupation
Forces with Dr. Ravashol's technology.    It had been more problematic
getting them to the movements in the Outer Colonies, and planetary
contamination had already rendered Piscera's inoperable.   For the other
Outer Colonies, Skorpia, Sagittaria and Leo, contamination wasn't too
lethal to destroy their cameras.   They had the ability to map and chart
the positions of where the Cylon forces on their respective planets were
concentrated, and what areas offered potential targets for them to
strike at.     Their problem remained one of knowing which target, if
any, was run by predominantly Loyalist Cylons or if any were being run
by those who had become Enlightened and were potential allies to the
Resistance in case of any potential contact.     After the disastrous
blind raid by the Leonian survivors two yahrens ago, no other Outer
Colony raid had taken place.
	And from the standpoint of Eleazar, leader of the Skorpians, the
wait had gone on long enough.
	"Where's our drone now?" he asked his deputy, Neele, a one time
businessman who had been a Captain in the Colonial Reserves before the
Destruction, putting in two sectans every yahren to make him feel he was
doing his patriotic duty, but who had never engaged in any real combat
in his life.
	"It's approaching the power station at Smyrna.     We'll make the
usual check for Cylon manpower levels and then move on to the
Aerodrome."
	"Have it stay there a bit longer," Eleazar said.  "I want to get a
sense of where the best approaches are just in case."
	Neele turned around and looked at him, "You think this would be the
best target if we make a move?"
	"If we can approach it undetected," the Skorpian leader said.  
"It's the closest to us.   It's the best target for disrupting
operations.      Assuming they rebuilt the old grid to power the
capital, they'd have to rebuild the facility if it were destroyed.   
And that.....would give us another ripe target to keep harassing so that
they could never get full power to the capital back."
	"I don't think the Drone can give us all the information we'd need
if we were to move on the Power Station."
	He looked at his deputy dubiously, "Why not?"
	Neele pointed to the screen, "We can't get a good view of the entry
checkpoints from the air no matter what angle we maneuver the Drone
into.    Only a ground view with field magnifiers could eyeball the
place  properly to see how many Centurions go in and out at designated
times."
	"That can be taken care of since it's only eight kilometrones from
us," Eleazar said disarmingly. 
	"And there's another thing even a ground scout couldn't figure out. 
  What if the place is manned by Enlightened Cylons?"
	Eleazar disdainfully shook his head, "Does that really make a
difference at this point?     If the ones who are helping Deval and
Anders are *really* 'Enlightened' as they put it, why would they stop
helping us just because we couldn't tell one from another?     Frankly,
this whole business of sitting on our astrums has gotten ridiculous."
	"I don't know about that," Neele said.
	"What's the matter, *Captain*?" he said the rank sarcastically,
since it reflected his disdain for the fact that Neele had only been a
Reservist.  "Not anxious to fight?"
	Neele felt himself bristle inside at Eleazar's brazen hypocrisy.   
 Neele may have been just a Reservist, but Eleazar had never spent a
micron in any part of the military.     Eleazar's credentials for
leadership stemmed from the fact that the Skorpian colony was situated
on the site of a former Industrial Park.    And Eleazar had been the
leader of the industrial workers in their dealings with management.    
That role had served him well when it came to organizing the survivors
into a group of people that could survive underground, and for that
Neele respected Eleazar as an organizational leader.     But on a
personal level, he had developed an intense dislike for Eleazar.   He
felt it now as he turned in his chair and gave the Skorpian leader a
cold stare.
	"I'm ready to fight when it seems like the sane thing to do," he
said.
	"If I decide we're ready to fight, you'll do it."
	"I thought that was supposed to be a collective decision of the
Outer Colonies," Neele felt his dislike for Eleazar crowding out the
respect he'd struggled to maintain.    "Don't tell me we're going to cut
Siress Sabina and Melchior out of this."
	"That'll depend on their attitude.     Yes, I want it to be a
collective strike, but if they get cold feet for no good reason, then
maybe it's time we start thinking of our own interests as a Colony
instead of automatically letting others have veto power over us."
	Neele tried not to roll his eyes as he turned his chair around
again to return to the Drone Camera monitor.     
	"I'm assuming you're recording the feed for this pass over Smyrna,
Captain," Eleazar said.   "I wouldn't want to think your analysis
write-up would be less than accurate."
	"No, *sir*," he said emphatically as he kept his back turned to the
leader.      Only when he heard Eleazar's retreating footsteps and the
Command Complex door closing behind him did he finally let himself utter
a profane epithet.    And then......he found himself quickly regretting
it, since to do so, even in private, was a betrayal of everything he'd
vowed to obediently observe without question for the rest of his life.
	Maybe later I can tell her how much Eleazar is getting on my
nerves, he sighed.   Our conversations have been a bit one-sided lately. 
  She's had so much on her mind because of all the untoward advances
she's had to fend off.     Maybe.....if she can counsel me a bit like
she used to, it will make her feel easier.


GEMON

	"I had it," the sense of defeat and anguish was clear in Anders'
voice.   "I was in full contact with Hunley.     And then....she had to
break it off because she couldn't stay in proximity to a sun just like
ours.     If only I'd realized sooner that's the reason she can reach me
from so far out. I'd have been out there when she was still on patrol
and I would have stayed connected to her longer."
	"It's okay," Ashera said tenderly as she massaged his shoulders.  
"At least you learned more.    Professor Ila made it and the Galactica
knows about us."
	"But she said the Galactica isn't returning!" even the gentle voice
and touch of his lover couldn't relax him.   "She said help was coming
from someone or someplace else.    What does that mean?    And if the
Galactica isn't returning, then is it *really* any kind of help that
could make a difference?"
	"You'll just have to try again to make contact with her," she kept
up the massage.  "You know how the process works and what the optimum
conditions need to be.     It shouldn't stop you from trying."
	"Who knows when she'll be out on another patrol, and even then, she
may not be close to a sun strong enough."
	Ashera stopped massaging him.   "Are you looking for excuses not to
try again?"
	He was so taken aback by the sternness of her question that he
found himself unable to answer at her.
	"Listen to yourself," the red-haired woman went on. "I would have
figured a hotshot intelligence analyst like you used to be would try to
look at the situation clinically and put yourself in Hunley's shoes.   
What do you think *she's* trying to do right now at this very micron?"
	He let her words sink in and let out a slow sigh, "Frack.   You're
absolutely right.   I'm letting the magnitude of all this get to me.   
I do need to take a step back and think of this from her perspective.   
 Just give me a few microns." he took several deep breaths and then
closed his eyes.    As if he were going into a meditative trance.
	Is he that afraid of an Otori fanatic like Athol?   Ashera thought
as she removed her hands from his shoulders.   Afraid of his past
threatening to destroy everything we've accomplished?     I hope not.   
Especially when he's got far less to be afraid of.......then I do.
	She still found it amazing that after nearly four yahrens, Anders
hadn't guessed the truth about her real background.    That she hadn't
been a data analyst for the Finance Ministry.    That she in fact had
worked in the same department Anders had worked in, the Fleet
Intelligence Unit, only hers was a highly classified position that
required the cover story of working as a lowly bureaucrat for a more
mundane agency.     Which was why Anders had never been aware of her
existence as a professional colleague.
	And Lords willing, he'll never know.    Not after what I did.   
Lords forgive me, don't let him ever find out.    Don't let that Otori
gift of telepathy he has reach into my mind.
	Slowly, she backed away from the man she loved and left him to his
meditation.    By the time Anders opened his eyes, she was seated across
from him on the bed, her expression pensive.
	"Okay," the voice of the leader had returned to him.   "I think I
know what she'll probably do.   If she knows how important it is to
re-establish contact with me, she has to find a way to go out on patrol
again and before the Galactica would be too far out of the sun's range. 
    Since she wasn't a viper pilot when I knew her, that means she's
done a lot of training to be able to fly now and it's something she
clearly takes pride in.    So that means she's not going to do something
as stupid as take off again without authorization.     She would seek
permission to go out again by going to......Commander Adama.      Since
Adama would have to know about us already from Professor Ila, he'd
undoubtedly listen to her.     The only wrinkle would be if Adama
doesn't already know about Hunley's Otori background, and if that could
cause any complications."
	He rose from his chair, his confidence back.   "It'll take at least
a centar probably to discuss the whole thing with Adama.   If he says
yes, then she'd need time to prepare for her patrol.    Probably allow
another centar to get back to where she was.    So......taking all of
that into account, I'll go back out and try to connect with her again in
another......three centars."
	"Let's hope you're right," Ashera said, grateful to see he'd
recovered himself.    "We could use a lucky break."


THE GALACTICA

	From behind his desk, Adama had listened to Hunley's account with
spellbound fascination.     He was aware of the lieutenant's Otori
background, since it had come home to roost in a major way that had seen
Hunley (then known publicly as Janna) kill an Otori in self-defense
after the surviving Otori  members in the Fleet had attempted to kill
her for having left the sect.     Even her own grandfather, Orel, the
Mukar, had encouraged her death and in the ensuing fallout, the old man
had committed suicide.    Since then, the Otori had kept a lower profile
in the Fleet, reining in the militancy that had defined the late Mukar. 
 
	"If what you say is true, Lieutenant," he said when she had
finished, "You could have come to me as soon as you learned your cousin
was alive on Gemon."
	"I understand that now, Commander," Hunley said.   "But.....you
have to understand the ramifications.     Telepathy is considered to be
the greatest of gifts an Otori can possess and it is meant to be used
only by the most devout of believers.     To utilize the gift after
renouncing the ways of the Otori constitutes the greatest of heresies in
Otori tradition."
	"Your grandfather is dead and those who thought like him and
plotted against you are still  in the Prison Barge.      They can't harm
you any longer."
	"But Commander, when it becomes public knowledge that I'm using
telepathy to communicate with the Resistance, that could very well
convince Otori who weren't involved with my grandfather's plot that I've
gone too far.     So long as I present myself as a former Otori who has
nothing to do with the past traditions of the sect, then I can be
tolerated by them without fear of reprisal.    But to utilize the power
after I've renounced the Otori......that's something else entirely.    
Perhaps most of them would still tolerate me, but it would only take one
Otori to feel a sense of betrayal to set things in motion again."
	"You know I wouldn't let that happen, Lieutenant," Adama said
firmly.    "I can deal with the Otori and insure your safety.    What
I'm more concerned with is if you understand the greater risk you'd face
in going public."
	Hunley nodded, "I do, Commander.     Until the Pegasus reaches the
Colonies, I am the only one capable of providing any information to the
Resistance on what's happened since your wife left Caprica, and what
they can anticipate with the Pegasus going back.    That also means I am
the only one who can provide current information to the Fleet on what's
happening in the Colonies, and I am the only one in position to find out
who else is alive that not even your wife is aware of."
	"Exactly.     You would be.......assuming quite a heavy
responsibility for yourself, Lieutenant.   You'll become a target
for......quite a few well-intentioned people who want answers to
questions they still have, and that would be a tremendous burden for you
to carry."
	"Not to mention the burden my family would face as well," she added
pointedly.  "I know how important Dante's work as XO of the
Constellation is.    The last thing he needs is to be bombarded by
crewmen trying to get their questions to me through him.     And Lala
and Magdalena......they'll be harassed by people who'll automatically
assume they have the same power I have, even though they don't."
	"You've talked with them about this?"
	"Yes.   They all insisted I shouldn't worry about them and should
only think of the greater good.    But....it wasn't until I spoke with
Ama that I decided it was time for me to act."
	"Really?" Adama lifted an eyebrow.    "What did Ama tell you?"
	Hunley sighed, "That she saw my gift as a further sign that 'their
presence is here among us.'   And that I must act on it.    I asked her
whose presence she was referring to, but......she wouldn't explain
further.    Only that I would be denying their will if I denied using my
gift to contact Anders."
	The Commander brought his fingertips together as he absorbed this
information further.   There was one other thing he knew he'd have to
ask Hunley, and this would conceivably be the most problematic issue of
them all.
	"How well do you know Dante's brother, Sergeant Micah of Colonial
Security?"
	"I know him well enough to regard him as family, Commander,
but.....if you mean does he know about my gift, no he doesn't.    Until
I talked to Ama and then you, the only ones in the Fleet who knew were
Dante, Lala, and Magdalena."
	"Obviously if you go further, he'll have to know," Adama said.  
"And if you make further contact with Anders......you may be forced to
tell your cousin something that he doesn't know, but which could be
very......painful for him in his capacity as a Resistance leader."
	Hunley frowned, "I don't understand, sir."
	"It can keep for now, Lieutenant.     I think what's more important
in the near-term is getting you back out so you can try and re-establish
contact with Anders.     I'm going to order the Fleet to slow speed and
change its heading so you can remain in sustained proximity to the sun
you were orbiting for at least four to five centars.     That should
give you sufficient time to see if Anders is in a position to receive
you.     When you do make contact, it's imperative you let him know
these essential points."
	"I think I can already name them, Commander," Hunley said.  
"First, that Professor Ila's mission was successful but that she's
aboard the Pegasus, not the Galactica.    That the Pegasus and Commander
Cain are alive and they, not the Galactica are returning to the Colonies
to join the Resistance effort while the Galactica and the survivors of
the Destruction are continuing to Earth.    But in spite of that, the
Galactica and Pegasus are in direct contact with each other and that we
are capable of acting as a relay of critical information from the
Resistance to them."
	"Excellent, Lieutenant.    But there are some other things you have
to let him know that will enable him to convince others he's been in
contact with you.    Information that only third parties would be aware
of.    Without it, they might view any story of telepathic contact over
such a great distance as too......improbable to believe or take
seriously."
	"I understand, sir," Hunley nodded.   "What should I tell him?"
	"Can you remember this without writing any of it down, Lieutenant?"
	"It's not a problem.   That's another byproduct of my......brain
acceleration as it were."
	"Of course," he paused, "The first message is for Commander Deval
of the Caprican Resistance.     He is to be told that Sergeant Mattoon,
the father of Abigail, is alive and well.     He'll know what that
means."
	"Yes sir."
	Adama then took a breath.   "The next message is for Colonel
Antony, Deval's deputy.  Tell him that Professor Ila's daughter Athena
is alive and well, and that the matter he was concerned about, regarding
the late Commander Maris......has been dealt with, with no further loss
of life."
	Hunley nodded.   She had no idea what Adama was referring to, but
she knew that she was being asked to be a simple courier of information. 
 That meant it wasn't her place to ask for clarification or elaboration. 
  She would simply do as she'd been told.
	"Is there anything else, sir?"
	"For now, no.    Once you've communicated these points, get
whatever information you can from Anders and bring it back to us.    
We'll try and come up with a formula for how further contact can be
established in the future later.    For now, it's important to make sure
the Resistance knows these essential facts, first *and* that they know
they can expect help to come some day."
	She rose and saluted, "Sir."  And then she turned and departed.   
When she was gone, Adama contacted the Bridge to give Colonel Tigh
instructions for slowing the Fleet and maintaining proximity to the star
that gave Hunley the strength to communicate with her cousin across the
vast reaches of space.    The next thing he did was to call Colonial
Security and ask Hunley's brother-in-law, Sergeant Micah to report to
him immediately.      He was the only one in Hunley's family who knew
the unpleasant truth regarding Anders' co-leader Ashera.    Adama knew
he needed his input on whether it would be wise to brief Hunley on
Ashera's past treachery and whether she in turn should tell her cousin
about it.


GEMON

	"It is just as I suspected. of him from the beginning," the man
named Athol said with disgust.   "Our leader is more than just an
infidel.    He has committed the highest of heresies."
	His fellow Otori, a middle-aged man named Jelada looked at him
dubiously but said nothing.     The silence clearly disturbed Athol.
	"This doesn't disturb you?"
	"My friend," Jelada sighed, "What does it matter any longer?"
	"It matters to *any* of us who still take seriously what it means
to be an Otori!" Athol grabbed him by the arm.
	"I still take seriously the concept of survival," Jelada was
non-plussed.  "Anders is responsible for our being alive, and his work
with the movements on the other worlds is why we have a chance of one
day seeing the Colonies liberated.    And you're telling me he should be
killed for the sake of upholding a tradition that doesn't apply to the
lives of anyone beyond the five of us who are still practicing Otori?"
	"If we can not maintain our traditions, then our sect will die
whether Gemon is one day liberated or not.     If we can not stand by
the principles that define our very existence as a people......then we
are not a race worth saving."
	Jelada shook his head and let out a sad sigh.    Like his friend
Athol, he had considered himself devoted to the traditions of the Otori
sect from the time of his birth.    Like Athol, he had supported the
conservative leadership of Orel as the Mukar, though he felt that Orel
had crossed a line by exceeding banishment as the proper form of
punishment for a heresy.    To Jelada, heresy against the ways of the
Otori warranted final punishment from the gods alone, and not from their
terrestrial followers.
	He, Athol and three other Otoris, (the younger man Sakana and two
women, Maricica and Nupondi) had survived the Destruction because they'd
been in Gemon's capital city to petition the Gemonese Courts to protest
government interference with how the Otori administered justice within
their sect.  Trapped in the basement of the Justice Ministry for over a
sectan, they had been unable to take part in the evacuation and Exodus. 
   When they were finally freed by the survivors led by Anders and
Ashera, they had reluctantly agreed to follow his leadership.    Athol
had known from the outset that Anders had been born Otori because of his
close relationship with Mukar Orel and to him, it represented the
greatest of self-sacrifice to submit to the authority of one who had
turned his back on the Otori.     In the end, Jelada and the others had
been able to get him to accept things as they were because Anders was
for all intents and purposes, no different from one who had never been
Otori.
	"Do not think of him as an infidel," Jelada had told Athol back
then, "Think of him as one who was never Otori to begin with.     Treat
him as though he were any other non-believer we might have been forced
to follow."  Those sentiments had kept Athol's underlying resentment of
Anders in check.....until now.
	"My friend," Jelada decided to try another tact, "Try to take a
step back and analyze this carefully, as we did when we agreed to follow
him.   What exactly did you see?  What did you see him do that makes you
think he is still utilizing Otori gifts?"
	"I recognize the posture he assumed.     The posture of deep
meditation when one engages in telepathic contact with a fellow Otori
who has the gift.    I have seen true Otori believers do it many times
over the yahrens.     He did not learn telepathy on his own, or after he
renounced the Otori.   He could only have possessed the gift before he
renounced the Otori.     And were he true to his new convictions, he
never would have dared use the power again."
	"Perhaps you are right," Jelada knew there were some points he
couldn't waste time arguing if it was clear Athol had the upper hand.   
"Then the question you should concern yourself with is.......who is he
communicating with?"
	The look on Athol's face revealed that was a question he hadn't
stopped to consider.   Jelada knew right away he needed to seize that
point and run with it.
	"You surely don't think he's communicating with one of us.    We
are only five in number.     I don't have the gift.   You don't have the
gift.     You surely don't believe one of our own has been lying to us?"
	Athol turned away from him and assumed a contemplative posture.  
He didn't answer Jelada for nearly a centon.
	"You raise an......interesting possibility."  He finally broke his
silence.   "I know it can not be Sakana.    But Maricica.....why does
she enjoy spending her duty shifts in such......isolation?"
	"I would not consider that possibility," Jelada wanted to quickly
get him off the subject of Maricica.     He'd known for some time that
Athol had been making advances on Maricica, and she'd rejected them all. 
   The last thing he wanted to see was Athol develop an unwarranted
suspicion of her.
	"If not one of us, then who?" Athol retorted.
	"Look at this from an optimistic standpoint," Jelada pressed.   
"Perhaps he's using this gift out of necessity.     Perhaps there are
Otori elsewhere on Gemon or one of the other Colonies who've been cut
off from all the Resistance groups all this time and only now are trying
to make contact.      If he has the ability to receive a message for
help, he would be obligated to make use of the gift regardless of his
status as an Otori."
	Athol said nothing.    Instead he began to walk away from his
fellow Otori, leaving Jelada alone and confused.


LEO

	"Thank you for responding to my message," Siress Sabina said as the
faces of Melchior and Eleazar appeared on the monitors.   "I think in
light of what transpired at this morning's meeting, we need to work on
presenting a unified front."
	"Without Mikkos?" Melchior cautiously asked. 
	"Mikkos's situation is different from the rest of ours," the
Leonian leader said.  "He's clearly not keen on the idea of our taking
action, and if he were to be part of our discussions, he might choose to
prematurely reveal things to Deval and Anders.     Our proposal must be
seen as the unified perspective of Leo, Sagittaria and Skorpia.    We
know we're capable of acting, but we've been unable to act.     We're in
agreement that has to change."
	"And I know where we can take action here on Skorpia," Eleazar
said, "Our drone camera has made an extended sweep over a major power
station at Smyrna.     It's the perfect target for us to move on in
terms of location and strategic significance.      We have demo tech
teams who have experience in setting charges and we have charges at our
disposal that have been gathering dust for too long now."
	"Excellent," Sabina was impressed.   "I intended to give us two
cycles at most to come up with targets on our respective planets to move
against, but if you've already taken care of that for Skorpia, that
means Melchior, that you and I must have our targets selected by
tomorrow.    The sooner we move to the next level of how to coordinate
our strikes so they occur simultaneously, the better."
	"It will be done, Siress," Melchior nodded.   "We have studied
potential targets on Sagittaria in the past, so it should only be a
question of narrowing our options to the most promising."
	"And I will see to it that my staff has a target selected by then
as well."
	"Siress," Eleazar said with gentle respect.  "This may be premature
of me, but once we're agreed on a final plan of coordinated
action......do you believe we must wait to act until after the next
conference session?"
	Sabina's eyes narrowed slightly, "Are you suggesting we should act
unilaterally without Deval and the others knowing ahead of time?"
	"I am," the Skorpian leader said.   "I believe that the overall
lack of respect Deval and the Inner Colonies have demonstrated toward us
does not entitle them to decide our timetable."
	"I don't think you understand the reason why I feel it's necessary
for us to draw up this plan of a coordinated strike, Eleazar," for the
first time a note of displeasure entered the Siress's voice.   "This
plan is intended for the next conference session.     If Deval and
Anders have nothing of substance to report that changes the situation as
it has existed, then we present our plan and tell him we intend to act
on it.     If you're suggesting we move on our own in advance of the
next meeting, then I can not go along with that."
	"Siress, I am concerned that to wait too long might waste a
precious opportunity for my people," the Skorpian said carefully, not
wanting to come off as antagonistic.    "The optimum conditions for
launching an assault may not exist in another sectan."
	"You'll need to be patient a little longer then," the displeasure
grew in her voice.   "If you want me to make the case for why the Outer
Colonies must finally take action, then it has to be done as part of a
unified effort.     And it also means doing it in a way that shows some
basic courtesies to the Inner Colony leadership, which means keeping
them informed of our intentions before we act."
	"Siress Sabina," Eleazar said, struggling to maintain respect, but
it was clear  he was pushing back a desire to explode.  "I think at this
stage, we need to be less concerned about preserving any 'courtesies'
for those who haven't been willing to look at things from our
perspective these last two yahrens.     Given the connections they have
to so-called 'enlightened' Cylons, they surely could have come up with
better intelligence by now."
	"You're doing them a disservice," the Siress's tone had now become
cold and hostile, "If we're going to credibly speak up for our own
interests, we will *not* disrespect their accomplishments and what
they've done for their respective Colonies."
	"Their accomplishments hinge on this idea that 'enlightened' Cylons
will remain enlightened for the long-term," Eleazar was unfazed.    "Let
me ask you, Siress, and you Melchior.......if we are successful in
liberating our planets, what do all the 'enlightened' Cylons do next?   
Pack up and go home to Cylon and replace the Imperious Leader?     And
if they do that, are they going to stay there for all time and not come
back?    Or are they going to want to stick around and be integrated in
a 'liberated' society?"
	"Aren't you looking a little too far ahead, Eleazar?" ordinarily
Melchior would have found himself agreeing with the Skorpian, but even
he had his limits.   "This is scarcely the time to be talking about a
post-Liberation world when that day is so far off in the future at
best."
	"I'm talking about something that affects us now," Eleazar held his
ground.  "Namely this issue of easy trust in the supposed goodness of
certain Cylons.     The one thing that's forced us to act with restraint
and sit on our collective astrums these last two yahrens is because we
aren't capable of telling the so-called 'good' Cylons from the 'bad'
ones in the outer Colonies.    Well maybe it's time we stop worrying
about that distinction.      All of them were part of the effort that
destroyed our planets, so why should the fact that some of them suddenly
have some kind of conscience about it make any difference?     They're
all still guilty of mass murder and genocide of our civilization.     It
shouldn't make any difference to us which Cylons get killed so long as
it helps us achieve liberation of our planets."
	"I think that will be enough, Eleazar," Sabina's voice grew cold.
	"It isn't enough, Siress," Eleazar pressed on.  "We need to revisit
this issue.    Especially if you and Melchior are in agreement that we
need to act soon."
	"I want us to act soon, but you are not going to repeat what you
just said about all enlightened Cylons in general to anyone else in the
Resistance, Eleazar," the Siress put all the authority she could ever
recall summoning into her voice.   "If we are forced to kill Cylons who
might have helped us, we must stress that it's due to the persistent
failures in intelligence, and *not* because we suddenly think there's no
fundamental difference between the two groups.    We want Commander
Valan and those like him to improve their intelligence and make it
easier for us to act.    A unilateral action on our part should be
designed to achieve that goal and *not* because deep down we'll want to
kill Valan and Vulpa and the rest one day, who like it or not, are our
allies in this struggle."
	"Are they really?" 
	"That's enough!" Sabina exploded.   "Melchior, do you share
Eleazar's sentiments?"
	The Sagittarian took a cautious breath and then said slowly,
"Well.....I....."
	"I want candor from you now, Melchior or else I'm going to call an
end to this whole idea of a coordinated strike on our part."
	Her words seemed to have an effect as Melchior finally spoke up,
"Well.....no, Siress.   I don't share Eleazar's view about Enlightened
Cylons in general.    I don't think we should let their presence dictate
our actions on where and when we should strike, but......I don't agree
with the idea that there's no fundamental difference among the Cylons."
	"Thank you," she said curtly and glared back at the Skorpian
leader.   "When we converse again tomorrow, we'll have our own target
plans ready.     And I hope we won't hear anymore of your talk on these
other matters again, Eleazar."
	Eleazar said nothing but only gave a nod of his head.
	"Very well.     Until tomorrow."


SKORPIA

	Eleazar continued to stare at the now blank monitor for over a
centon, not moving from his chair.    His expression tight-lipped and
full of anger like at no other time he could recall in the last two
yahrens.
	You're wrong, Siress.   The subject *is* going to come up again.   
It's time we stop dishonoring ourselves!


Chapter Five	

THE PEGASUS

	"Are you sure you're ready?" Cain asked delicately and tenderly as
his bride of two
sectans stood across from him, her bearing ramrod straight, her bridge
uniform immaculately pressed.
	"I'm ready," Kylie said simply.   "I need to get back to duty,
Cain.   It's been longer than it should have been."
	"After what you went through----,"
	"It's done," his wife cut him off.  "It's done and it can't be
changed.....whatever it was that happened to me," she trailed off and
then added simply, "To us."
	"You've wondered too?" her husband gently prodded.   "That.....what
we think happened on that planet where we found Wynn, isn't......what
really happened?"
	"Frequently," Kylie admitted.   "But.....the more I think about it,
the more I hear some other voice inside me telling me that whatever the
real truth is......I'm not supposed to know yet.  That it isn't time for
you and me to know what the truth is.    If that's the case, so be it.  
It means we have to stay focused on things from this time forward."
	The Juggernaut nodded, "That's how I feel too.    I know none of
what happened on that planet makes any sense.    Least of all Wynn's
story of what happened to him and how he came to be on that planet.    
Ordinarily that would have me raging to find the real answers, but.....I
think I've been hearing the same voice you say you've been hearing,
Kylie."
	His wife smiled, "Talking to us both, perhaps?"
	"Perhaps," he returned it,   "All right, Kylie.   If you have Dr.
Laughlin's okay.....then you get your tail back to the Bridge and resume
your duties as Senior Bridge Officer immediately."
	She sharply saluted him, "Yes, sir!"
 	He lightly waved his stick at her and watched her exit.   Only when
the door had closed and she was gone did he decide to say what propriety
had told him not to say when ordering her back to duty.     And he knew
she hadn't wanted him to say it then because she valued the need for
keeping the commander-subordinate relationship between them intact.
	"I love you, Kylie." he said aloud, "You're the best thing that's
happened to me."
	It was the strength of that love between them that they'd been able
to move past the heartbreaking discovery that Kylie could never have
children one day.     The result of a tumor in her uterine that had been
discovered during her medical check after the return from the planet
when the missing warrior of two yahrens, Ensign Wynn, had suddenly been
found alive.    Found alive after Kylie and then Cain had gone searching
and lost several centars of their lives that they had no credible
explanations for, just as Wynn's hazy recollection of events didn't seem
to fit the known facts.    And yet......they had chosen to let the
matter die.     To put the anguish behind them by getting sealed to each
other at last, and to feel gratitude that Wynn had been returned to the
Pegasus alive.     That was the message those unknown "inner voices" had
been telling them.  And for reasons not even Cain could explain.......he
was willing to trust those voices completely.	A double chime sounded
on his desk which meant one thing only.    Ila wanted to patch him in on
a conversation with the Galactica.    As he reached for the switch, he
thought for an instant how Ila seemed to be the one person who had an
inkling what the true facts were regarding Wynn and the subsequent
events Cain and Kylie had only vague recollections of.    But if that
were the case, Adama's wife was keeping it all close to the vest for her
own reasons.    And he had no intention of prying anything out of her.  
  To do so was something those unknown inner voices inside would
disapprove of, completely.
	"Yes, Ila?"
	"I have Adama on direct tie-in, Cain," the blonde Academician said. 
 "He says it's important."
	"Go ahead.    Adama can you hear me?"
	"I hear you fine, Cain," the Galactica commander's voice came
through from far across the stars.  "I told Ila this message was for
both of you.     It has important ramifications for your future."
	"Go on," The Juggernaut leaned back in his chair.
	"We've potentially found a way to get word to the Resistance so
they'll know you're on the way."
	Cain's eyes widened in surprise as he promptly came back forward in
his chair.    The lack of immediate response from Ila indicated her
surprise as well.
	"Let me explain," Adama decided not to wait for them to say
anything.  "A top member of the Gemonese Resistance, Anders, was
originally born to the Otori sect and has the gift of telepathic
communication.     A cousin of his, who is in the Fleet, has the same
gift and is capable of making contact with him.     The contact won't be
extensive, but at bare minimum, the Resistance can be made aware of the
fact that you're on the way."
	"I had no idea Anders had an Otori background," Ila broke her
silence, her voice dazed.  "But if it's true.....I see how it can
happen.    The telepathic bonds between Otori were said to extend across
entire star systems, given the right conditions."
	"That is the important thing.   It requires certain conditions.   
That's the reason why we can only get basic information to them, but at
the very least, the Resistance can adopt their strategy in terms of when
you'll arrive and it won't be a sudden surprise."
	"Adama, that is good news," Cain's mind was quickly digesting this
information, "But even if contact can be made with this.....Anders, can
we be sure others will believe him?"
	"We're making sure others will have to believe him, Cain.    By
passing along information to other Resistance figures that Anders
himself would have no knowledge of."
	"That sounds like a good idea," Ila said and then added, "I can
think of certain things you could have him tell Commander Deval and
Colonel Antony."
	"We're on the same wavelength, Ila," her husband said.   "I've
already seen to it that Anders cousin will relay exactly what you're
thinking of.     A message for little Abby about her father.....and a
message for the Colonel reassuring him that all matters concerning the
late Commander Maris have been dealt with, with no further losses of
life."
	"Thank you, Adama," Ila said with relief.
	"There are a couple other matters I needed to consult with you
before Anders' cousin gets herself ready to make contact," her husband
went on.   "The first concerns your estimated time of arrival in the
Colonies."
	Cain instinctively shook his head, "Adama, I can't make it too
specific at this time.    We still have to make a final sweep of all
former Cylon outposts in the Alpha Quadrant to make sure we haven't
overlooked any other hidden ammunition depots, or any listening posts
that could alert the High Command about us.     And then we have to stop
at Arcta and make contact with Dr. Ravashol regarding the state of
technology that's needed to help the Resistance finally prevail.    Only
when those tasks are done will it be safe to finally return to our home
star system. We have to be in a state of maximum military might if we're
to make a difference."
	"Then give me a general indication, Cain," Adama pressed.   "Are we
talking in excess of a yahren?"
	"I certainly would prefer it be less than that," the Juggernaut
conceded.  "But given all our experiences since we started the journey
back, you have to let them know there are many factors that can still
delay us, even with Cannes Garrison wiped out.     Kobol knows I'm going
to do my best to make the timetable short......but they have to
understand that our return is being planned as methodically as
possible."
	"We'll do that," Adama marveled at how Cain's response was a
complete contrast from how the Juggernaut would have reacted in an
earlier age.    The old Cain would have impulsively made a guaranteed
time of arrival and plotted it down to the very last micron.     And
then it would have been a matter of personal pride for Cain to keep his
word regarding his commitment to a particular time.    But now.....such
easy bravado no longer came instinctively to Cain.    He'd instead
become more cautious and methodical in his approach.     Characteristics
that Adama knew Cain had picked up as a result of Ila's influence and
counsel.    Giving Adama another powerful reminder of how important it
was for Cain to have Ila working alongside him, even though it had come
at such personal cost to himself and to Apollo and Athena as well.
	"Is there anything else?" Ila gently inquired.
	"Yes.   This is where I need your advice, Ila.      You know
everything I've told you regarding the treason plot independent of
Baltar's that we've learned about regarding the Destruction.    Two
prominent names in the Resistance were involved with Sire Uri's scheme
and one of them is someone Anders works alongside of."
	"Ashera," the Academician acknowledged.   "I have no way of knowing
if she's ever been candid with him.     I only know that we weren't
aware of any collaboration on her part, just as we were unaware of any
by Count Mikkos."
	"Do you think Anders should be told of this by his cousin?"
	Ila sighed, "I suppose Anders' cousin has keener insight into how
he might handle that kind of a revelation about someone I know he's
close to.     Most of us have the sense that Anders and Ashera are more
than just colleagues.    But.....if you want my gut feeling, Adama, I
don't think it's a good idea to give him that information in a first
contact.     Maybe later, after it's clear  the rest of the Resistance
knows the Pegasus is on the way, but for now......no."
	"Thank you.    You're the second person who's told me that today so
I will follow that advice.     When we have confirmation that Anders and
the rest of the Resistance knows you're on the way......I'll be in touch
again."
	"Make sure they know this as well, Adama," Cain jumped back in,
"Tell them about Gomorrah and Cannes.    And make it clear that Cylon
Resistance is widespread throughout the Empire and that there are Cylons
on the Pegasus who have joined the effort as well."
	"We'll do that.     In the meantime......our love and prayers be
with you all."
	"And you, Adama," Ila knew this wasn't the time to be emotional. 
	Cain heard the clicking sound and then saw the red light on his
desk go out which meant the connection had been broken.     He rose and
decided it was time to go to the Bridge and see how Kylie was doing on
her first day back.


THE GALACTICA

	Whenever Adama had to break a live connection with the Pegasus it
often gave him a brief burst of sadness over the fact that his wife was
out of reach to him physically.     He cherished the fact he had her
back in the ability to see her, speak to her and share his intimate
thoughts with her once again.     But the perpetual ache inside of him
to touch her and hold her in his arms and make love to her was something
that had to remain unfulfilled.    And the end of each conversation with
her often caused that ache to flare up once again.
	Today though was an exception as he wasted no time contacting the
Bridge after the connection was broken.
	"Bridge, this is Commander Adama.    Patch me through to Lieutenant
Hunley's cockpit."
	An instant later, he heard the Otori-born woman's voice, "Yes,
Commander."
            "Lieutenant, I have spoken with the Pegasus.    This is what
you need to know and which you are to pass along to Anders along with
the other matters we previously discussed."
	Once he had finished, his voice rose to its highest level of
command authority.
	"Much depends on you now, Lieutenant.    I don't tell you this to
intimidate you, but to make you appreciate the difference you'll be
making in the lives of all of us in the Fleet, on the Pegasus and in the
Colonies.    The Lords of Kobol bless you as you undertake this
mission."
	"Thank you, sir," Hunley's voice was confident and secure.   "I'm
ready."
	"In that case, you may launch.....now."


GEMON

	The National Triad Center in its prime had housed an elaborate
laundry facility for cleaning triad uniforms and workout clothing on an
almost round the clock basis when the facility had been in use.    While
sonic cleaning had long since dispensed of the need to utilize water in
the washing of clothes, it still took up considerable power and that was
why only two of the ten machines were used, with the rest scavenged for
other purposes.    
	Three people were responsible for the "laundry detail" of the
Colony.     Each operating a six centar shift every other cycle to
handle the needs of the population.     It was the kind of duty someone
took if they wanted time for solitude and isolation.       That was
especially true in the case of the Otori woman Maricica.      She had
been brought up in the most orothodox traditions of the sect, and that
had included the need for extended periods of solitude and private
meditation.     Being part of the laundry detail had restored that to
her life.     Ordinarily, it would have put her at ease with how things
were in this isolated niche, safe from the Destruction that had taken
place around her that night nearly four yahrens ago.      But there was
one thing keeping her from feeling at ease with her life.    And it
wasn't from the outside threat of loyal Cylon forces.   It was a threat
much too close to home for her.
	"Maricica?"
	She looked up from the basket she'd been folding clothes into and
saw her fellow Otori, Athol approaching her.     Immediately, she felt
her body tense.
	"I'm on duty now, Athol," she said gently, without any disapproval. 
"This isn't a proper time to talk."
	"This concerns a matter of great importance, Maricica," he drew
close to her.   "On your honor as a member of the Otori, I must know the
truth."
	"About what?"
	He looked her in the eye, "Do you possess the gift of telepathy?"
	She stiffened visibly.    It was clear to Athol that he had struck
a nerve with her.
	"You are asking a question no Otori is compelled to answer, Athol,"
she forced her words out.  "You of all people should know better."
	"I have a reason for asking, Maricica," his voice grew grave as he
took another step toward her.   "Tell me if it's true that you have the
gift.    And then I can explain why it's important."
	"For someone who prides himself on being an orthodox practitioner
of our ways, you're not showing any respect for it now!" her voice rose. 
 "Why are you asking me such questions?"
	"Why are you so evasive with me, Maricica?" he shook his head, "For
over three yahrens, I've only wanted to be there for you.     Yet even
now, when there are so few of us left, you reject me.  Why?"
	Her inner anxiety only increased with each word he spoke.   "We are
two yahrens from the next high worship before the Sun Storm.    You know
it is impossible for any of us to consider thoughts of......intimacy."
	"I am not talking of intimacy, Maricica," Athol sounded as if he
were trying to be tender, but his bearing and demeanor only served to
further unnerve the woman.   "I am only talking of.....establishing a
bond and an understanding between us.    Something that......can mean
something in the future when the time for high worship comes."
	"That day will never come for us, Athol," she was suddenly defiant. 
"I have no such feelings for you.    And I never will."
	The forced tenderness was gone and was suddenly replaced by
frustration, which only frightened her even more.  "Then how do you
expect our tribe to perpetuate itself when there are only five of us
left?    Surely you're not thinking of giving yourself to Jelada or
Sakana?"
	"No Otori is compelled to reveal anything about that which is
private to them," she felt every negative instinct she'd always had
about Athol from the time she'd met him being confirmed.     She had
known of his reputation for arguing the interests of the Otori before
the Gemonese Civil Government, and also of his closeness to Mukar Orel. 
  As one who had worked in the Otori Liaison Office to the Government,
she had respected him professionally and was glad he had come to the
capital to argue matters with her before the Justice Ministry on the Eve
of Destruction.     But personally......he had exuded a vibe that
disturbed her.    A vibe that made her see the danger of how the Otori
sense of devotion could be carried to dangerous extremes if not properly
kept in check.     Mutual survival and living among the rest of the
Gemonese survivors had tempered her underlying fears of Athol because
there was never an opportunity for them to be alone together.......until
now.
	"Maricica," he stepped toward her, "We can discuss the future
later.   For now, I must know if you have the gift......and if you are
using it with an Infidel."
	Her eyes widened with deep anger, "How *dare* you ask me that
question!"
	"There is a reason," he took another step toward her, "Tell me!"
	She dropped the laundry basket and backed up, "Go.   Please, just
go!"
	"Not until you tell me!"
	"Don't come any closer to me!" she continued to back up, not
remembering there was another empty basket behind her.     Her legs
brushed against it and suddenly......she had lost her footing and was
stumbling backward.    Her right foot then landed in the empty basket,
and this caused the empty basket to slide forward......sending her body
further backward toward the hard concrete surface of the
floor.......which her right temple landed solidly on.
	Athol watched in stunned horror as he saw Maricica lying motionless
on the floor.   A tiny trickle blood was the only visible sign of
injury......but it was more than enough to tell him what was obvious.   
 She was dead.
	"No," he whispered under his breath in shock.   "No, this cannot
be.   It cannot be!"
	Not for an instant did he think he was responsible for what had
happened.    He had only been doing his duty as a loyal Otori, seeking
the truth.    The fact she had evaded his question about having the gift
could only be seen as confirmation that she had it, and had been using
it recently.    And if she had been using it recently......it could only
have been with......Anders.   The Infidel who had openly renounced the
sect he had been born to long ago.   And whom he had observed engaging
in the practice that under Otori law he was forbidden to do.
	As he turned and left the empty Laundry Room, he vowed to make
Anders pay with his life for being the cause of Maricica's death.
	
	
	"Okay," Anders took a breath, "I think by now, she's probably out
there ready to try again.    I'm going to head out and see if I can
connect."
	"Good luck," Ashera said simply.    She had been a devout Skeptic
prior to the Destruction and even though she'd moved away from that in
the yahrens since, it wasn't in her nature to offer any words rooted in
invoking the Lords or the Almighty.    
	The Gemonese leader left their quarters and he went back through
the route he'd covered earlier in the day that would again take him
through the winding paths of the Triad Center to its rear exit.    Where
he could once again stand in the open sunlight and draw from its
strength to let him connect with Hunley, far across the stars.
	I will not fail this time, he thought as he unlocked the rear exit
door that opened out to the old service loading area.    He walked
across the concrete surface, toward the grassy rise that led to the
adjoining forest.     Before he reached the rise his concentration was
disrupted by a sound from overhead.    The sound of a Cylon fighter.
	He looked up and saw the solitary craft high up, at an altitude of
at least five kilometrones moving on a relatively straight arc towards
what he knew was the main Cylon aerodrome facility located more than
fifty kilometrones away to the southwest, on the outskirts of Gemon's
destroyed capital city.      Anders knew it was likely a craft on some
regular jaunt from one of the nearby planets.    Whether it was piloted
by an Enlightened Cylon or not didn't matter.     If the fighter had
tried to take a scan reading of the complex below for signs of human
life they would have seen nothing.    That too had been among the gifts
presented by Command Centurion Vulpa from Dr. Ravashol.      Several
well-placed units at strategic points around the complex effectively
masked the presence of all sentient life forms to aerial and satellite
scanning devices.    Only ground-level scans were capable of detecting
their presence......and with Command Centurion Galba effectively
insuring that no ground units would ever approach the Triad Center, the
fear of discovery by a hostile Cylon was nonexistent.
	Unless Galba were ever replaced, he thought as he reached the
grassy rise and came to a stop at the midway point between the loading
area behind him and the Phoebian forest in front of him.    The
mid-afternoon sun overhead would provide him with the strength he need
to tap into his special gift of telepathy, and if his hunch was right,
then somewhere far out in the galaxy, beyond any place the Colonial mind
of this generation had conceived of ever visiting, Hunley was out in her
viper trying to contact him.
	Once again, Anders closed his eyes and wrapped his arms about his
midsection.    Letting his mind free itself from his surroundings so he
could reach out to Hunley once again.
	Hunley.....Hunley, are you there?
	The wait was not long in coming.
	Anders!    Praise the Lords, I can hear your presence!     If you
are in the open and exposed to the sun, we should be able to communicate
as long as we have to!
	Where are you, Cousin?  He tightened his hold around his
mid-section to a point where he would have ordinarily become aware of an
intense strain in his arm muscles.    But so great was his
concentration, he was able to block it out.
	I am with the Galactica and we are still proceeding to Earth and
the Thirteenth Colony.     Help is coming to you, but not from us!
	But didn't Professor Ila reach you?
	She didn't reach us.    Professor Ila was rescued by the Pegasus.  
 The Pegasus under Commander Cain is alive and *they* are coming back to
help you and the Resistance, Anders.
	For a micron, Anders lost control of his concentration because this
was information he wasn't expecting at all.     He was well familiar
with how devastating the loss of Commander Cain and the Pegasus at the
Battle of Molocay had been to Colonial morale.    To hear Hunley say
that Cain and the Pegasus were alive was almost enough to make him doubt
what he was hearing.    If this had come from anyone but his own kin
through a personal bond that they had shared since childhood, he might
well have believed he was being deceived.
	How is this possible?
	That must wait for another time, Anders.    This is the essential
thing you must know.    The Pegasus remained closer to the Colonies on
their own which is why they intercepted Professor Ila's shuttle.    
They have not been with the Galactica for over three yahrens.    But we
have the ability to talk to them directly thanks to a breakthrough in
technology similar to the technology the Cylons have used to talk to
each other over great distances.   That's how we learned about Ila's
rescue by the Pegasus and what her mission was.
	Yes.   Yes, we are aware of how the Cylons talk to each other.    
That does make sense.
	Listen carefully to me now, Anders, and do not interrupt me unless
it is absolutely necessary.    It is imperative for you to absorb
everything I am about to say so you can repeat it accurately to your
fellow Resistance leaders, especially Commander Deval on Caprica.
	I am listening, Hunley.    You know I can absorb such data in my
mind just as I know you are capable of doing so.    We both know what
it's like to have experienced the intelligence blast.
	Indeed, we do, there was almost a sigh from Hunley, as if she was
briefly letting herself remember the times they had shared together so
long ago.    It quickly passed.    Here is what you must know.
	For the next fifteen centons, Anders mind absorbed everything he
heard from her.    All of it beyond anything his mind could have
comprehended even if he'd believed that Ila would have succeeded in her
mission.     Filled with so many unexpected twists and turns, and yet in
the end......it came back to the fact that the gamble that had been
taken nearly a yahren ago when Ila had been sent off into the stars in
Dr. Ravashol's specially designed shuttle had paid off.
	And as his mind absorbed all of what he heard from Hunley, he knew
it was up to him to relay all of this accurately to Deval and the
others.     To let them know that hope existed.     And he knew that
with these revelations, it was impossible to envision Eleazar, Siress
Sabina and the other restless leaders in the Outer Colonies feeling any
compulsion to act on their own.    This clearly represented the kind of
hard, legitimate news that Eleazar had acknowledged would make him back
off his threat to act unilaterally without proper intelligence to guide
him.
	He could appreciate so much how when Ila had left, it was with the
sense that everything rested on her to move things forward.      That
burden had then passed on to Hunley in terms of getting the information
of Ila's success back to those who had launched her.    And now......the
burden of moving things further along was entirely on his shoulders.
	He was ready to face that challenge.
	I have heard all you say, Hunley, and I will tell the others.     I
know they will believe me.
	I know you will convince them.     And now that I've told you these
things, I can tell you more good news.   Magdalena is alive and with me
in the Fleet!    And so is my sister, Lala!
	Anders felt his sense of elation increase to even higher than he
could have imagined.   To hear that his sister Magdalena was alive and
well was the greatest thing Hunley could have told him.    Even greater
than the news that the Battlestar Pegasus was on its way back to help
the Resistance.
	That is wonderful.   Give them both my love.    I  vowed long ago
to never forget all of you, and to know that you're all alive and
safe......it's the greatest answer to prayer I could have asked for.    
	The blessings of the Lords of Kobol be with you, Cousin.     Though
we can never see each other again, the bond between us as kin will
always remain!
	He communicated his last goodbye to her and mentally began the
process of coming out of the meditative state he had placed himself in. 
   That was a process that took more than a centon usually.    One in
which the awareness of one's surroundings didn't necessarily kick in at
first and everything was still just a silent, dim haze.
	That was the reason why Anders did not hear the voice shouting,
"INFIDEL, DIE!" nor did he feel the laser blast striking him before the
haze became blackness.


	The discovery of Maricica's body and a report that Athol had been
seen leaving the area had led Sergeant Cutter to sound the Security
Alert klaxon.    A follow-up report that said Athol was headed for the
rear exit soon caused a dozen warrior/commandos to head there as fast as
they could, with the old drill instructor leading the way.   When they
reached the rear door they found it partially jammed to prevent
immediate exit.    Filled with a rush of adrenaline, Cutter kicked the
door open and was greeted to the sight of  Athol standing ten feet away
with pistol raised and ready to fire again.
	Cutter didn't bother shouting a warning.    Instead, he slammed his
body against the Otori knocking him to one side just as he fired,
causing his shot to go wild.    Two of the men trailing Cutter then ran
over and quickly tackled Athol to the ground, stripping his laser pistol
away.
	"Where's the Commander?" another voice from behind shouted
urgently.
	Cutter looked ahead and his eyes saw Anders motionless form lying
on the grassy rise.
	"Oh my God," the old veteran whispered as three more security men
rushed out to attend to their fallen leader.


	"How is he?" Ashera didn't bother trying to conceal the anxiety and
panic she had been feeling for the last centar since she'd gotten the
word.    "Is it true he was shot in the head?"
	Dr. Alexion, the Chief Medical Officer of the Colony let out a
weary sigh.    He was a man of advanced middle age who'd been on the
verge of retirement when the Destruction happened and the fact he was
the only licensed physician among the group had forced him into
responsibilities he'd never felt fully prepared for.     And now, he was
dealing with the most serious crisis imaginable.
	"He's unconscious, and for now lucky to be alive.    Athol's shot
hit actually hit him in the back of the neck.     We've spent the last
couple centars debriding the damaged tissue, while trying to flush out
the radon infection before it spread to his brain or heart.  The good
news is we've probably succeeded there.   We've also made sure there's
no spinal damage, so there should be no danger of paralysis.   As to
whether he comes out of the coma......."
	"Coma?" Ashera demanded.  "I thought you said he was unconscious! 
Not in a coma!"
	"My apologies.  I certainly didn't mean to mislead you.  Yes, he's
in a coma.   Unresponsive. And we're not sure if he will come out."
	"Why not?" Ashera demanded.    Half out of concern for the fact
that Anders was her lover, and half out of concern for the fact that the
weight of leadership now rested on her.
	"Because some of the radon from that shot *may* have spread up to
his brain and *may* have caused some damage that while not fatal in
terms of the rest of his body's ability to function could still keep him
in a state of permanent coma."
	"Can't you tell?" Ashera demanded.
	"I don't exactly have the most advanced of facilities to run
advanced brain scans!" he felt some exasperation slip out, more the
result of all the intense medical care he'd been providing for the last
centar.
	"I can't believe that a facility that had to be prepared to treat
triad players who could suffer traumatic head injuries during
competition doesn't have something that can handle something similar."
	"We're using that equipment, Ashera.   The problem is it wasn't
designed to do more than preliminary scans, and then if a player was
seriously injured, he would always get evacuated to an advanced medical
facility in the Capitol for surgery.     And these machines weren't
designed to detect radon in the brain because no one ever thought a
triad player would get shot in the head!"
	"Point taken, Doctor," the redheaded woman knew she had to let the
things she'd learned from working alongside Anders kick in.  "I just
want to make sure he's getting the maximum effort you and your team can
give him.     Because right now the stakes are a lot higher than just
the fact that Anders is our leader."
	"The next 24 to 48 centars will tell us everything.   If he comes
out of it in 24 centars he'll probably recover.   If he's still in a
coma after 48 centars......we may have to fear the worst."
	"You are not to euthanize him under *any* circumstance, Doctor,"
her voice grew cold.  "So long as he's alive, you will *keep* him
alive."
	The middle-aged doctor looked at her dubiously, "That may be
condemning him to a fate worse than death if his coma is permanent."
	"I have a reason for my order that goes beyond mere sentiment, Dr.
Alexion," the coldness increased.   "You will follow that order, if it
becomes necessary."
	Reluctantly, Alexion nodded and left the room.     Ashera then
turned her attention to the three Otoris who were seated in a row
looking grim-faced.     Jelada was in the left seat.    Next to him was
a younger Otori male named Sakana.    On the right end was the one
remaining Otori woman, Nupondi, whose eyes betrayed the fact that she
had been crying.
	"I want some answers," Ashera looked at them.   "According to
Sergeant Cutter, Athol was raving about Anders being responsible for
Maricica's death and that's why he tried to kill him.   We found
Maricica in the laundry room and she apparently fell and hit her head on
the floor.     Athol says he didn't lay a finger on her, and that he
only went down there to talk to her.    Now should I have any reason to
believe him?"
	"The Otori do not lie when there is no reason to," Sakana said with
little emotion.  "Given that Athol knows he must be prepared to face
consequences for his actions, his first instinct, like that of any
Otori, is total candor regarding everything he has done.   If he says he
did not touch her, then you must assume he is telling the truth."
	"All right," Ashera conceded.   "Then that means he was likely
threatening Maricica or sending her into a state of terror that caused
her to back away from him and fall.      He says he was only trying to
get her to explain her relationship to Anders and she refused to do so. 
 Do any of you know what he's talking about?"
	There was silence from the three Otori that lasted fifteen microns
before Jelada spoke.
	"Athol had seen Anders engaging in the practice of telepathic
communication earlier today," he said.   "Because Anders is no longer a
practicing Otori, he was angry over this act of heresy against Otori
tradition.     He wanted to find out who Anders was communicating with."
	"And he assumed it was Maricica?" Ashera felt her anger deepening
about the sect her lover had once belonged to.    She had always found
the Otori's rigid practices to be the very reason why she had grown up
disdainful of organized religion.     Even if the Otori were a minority
sect, they still represented to Ashera what fanatical religious devotion
could lead to.
	"Presumably he wanted to find out from her," Jelada sighed with
regret, wishing he had run after Athol when he'd had the chance.    He
had known his fellow Otori was fanatical in his tendencies, but he'd
never expected events to spiral this far out of control so fast.
	"And he wasn't willing to take no for an answer?" Ashera pressed.  
"Because I can tell you that I know for a fact that Anders *wasn't*
communicating with Maricica or any one of you.   I have to assume
Maricica told him that, so why did he still seem to think otherwise?"
	"Maricica wouldn't have denied using the gift," Nupondi spoke up
quietly.   "She *was* in contact with someone.    Not Anders, but
someone else."
	The other two Otori immediately turned to face her in surprise
since this was clearly something they were unaware of.
	"Any confrontation from Athol about whether or not she had the gift
of telepathy, would have sent her into a panic," the Otori woman went
on, her voice quivering with sorrow.   "She never told anyone other than
me that she had the gift.    And that she had made contact with an Otori
who is among the survivors on Skorpia.    She knew that if Athol ever
found this out....it would send him into a jealous rage that she didn't
want to deal with."
	Slowly, Ashera saw everything fall into place.   "So when Athol
confronted her and asked her if she had the gift or was in contact with
anyone who had it......she didn't say no, she just.....refused to
answer."
	"She could have done nothing else," Nupondi choked back a sob,
"Maricica believed strongly in Otori tradition.    She could never have
lied directly to Athol.      But she didn't want him to ever know she
was in contact with someone else."
	"Is this Otori on Skorpia like Anders?" Jelada asked.   "Someone
who has renounced the sect but still uses the gift?"
	"No," Nupondi shook her head.  "He is a faithful Otori.     Someone
who is all alone among the Skorpian survivors with no other Otori to
talk to.    One day, he reached out with his gift to see if there was
anyone else among the survivors in the Colonies who might be able to
connect with him, and......that's how Maricica became aware of him.    
She would connect with him every sectan, whenever she went on one of her
outdoor walks in the forest.  And over time.....she told me that even
though she had no conception of his face, she had fallen in love with
him, and that her greatest prayer was that by the time of the next Sun
Storm, she would finally have the chance to meet him in person at last
and give herself to him."
	"And that was something she never wanted Athol to know, given
Athol's interest in her," Jelada felt horrified as so many things fell
into place.
	"It adds up to a very sad picture," Ashera nodded.  "And right now,
because of all this, our leader is lying in a coma before he's had a
chance to reveal the most important information we could ever learn
regarding the long-term future of the Resistance."
	"I don't understand," Sakana was confused.
	"You don't?" she glared at him, "Now that you know Anders wasn't
communicating with Maricica, just who do you think he *was* connected
to?"
	Hearing no answer from any of the Otori she decided she had nothing
to lose by telling them.    As far as she was concerned it made no
difference at this point.
	"Anders was connected to a relative of his who is on the Galactica. 
  He'd just found out that Professor Ila's mission was a success.    But
if we can't get details on what's going to happen as a result of that,
we're totally fracked."
	She turned and walked out of the room without waiting to see the
reactions on any of their faces.


Chapter Six

CAPRICA

	Anytime there was a meeting between Deval and Command Centurion
Valan, it always took place in the same location.      Just inside the
Thorn Forest on the pathway that led to the ruined city of Umbra.    
This was where the first contact with Valan had been made over two
yahrens ago, and from Deval's standpoint it was a reliable location.    
Umbra had only a token force of centurions assigned to it and that made
it easy for Valan to insure that they were all Enlightened and that no
one would ever report anything to one of his superiors.
	Just as the location was always the same, so too was the pattern
for contact.    A vehicle containing Valan and two centurions would
enter the forest along the paved pathway that led to Umbra.     One
hundred metrones inside the forest it would come to a stop.    After
thirty microns, Deval and Antony would emerge from the trees dressed in
their black commando outfits with their sidearms secure.    Despite the
productive working relationship over the last two yahrens, Deval still
wasn't ready to approach the Command Centurion completely unarmed.    
Leaving his weapon holstered with the safety on was the strongest
concession he could make.
	On this day, twenty-four centars after they'd requested the
meeting, things went off with the same clockwork precision as before as
the two Caprican Resistance leaders stepped out to face the Command
Centurion who had become their ally.
	"Thank you for seeing us, Commander Valan," Deval bowed
respectfully.   "You know that it is only a matter of great urgency that
would make this necessary."
	"Had you not requested a meeting, I would have been compelled to
notify you," Valan said in the familiar command centurion drone.    Yet
after two yahrens of interaction, the drone had taken on airs and
inflections that made it no longer seem monotonous to a human ear.  
That of itself was the ultimate sign to Deval and Antony of how real the
concept of "Enlightenment" in the Cylon ranks really was.
	"Then I guess that means we both have information that needs to be
revealed to the other," Deval said.    "Which of us should go first?"
	"As you made the initial contact, I shall defer to you."
	"Very well," the Caprican leader nodded.   "This concerns the state
of restlessness in the leadership of the Outer Colonies.   Specifically
Skorpia, Leo and Sagittaria.    They've refrained from engaging in any
significant strikes of their own on facilities because they have no
intelligence on which targets are controlled by Enlightened Cylons and
which are under the control of those still loyal to the High Command.   
Since the disaster two yahrens ago when the Leonians made their raid,
they haven't dared try again."
	"But they wish to do so now," Valan finished the thought.   "And
you want to know if I can give them intelligence that will keep them
from repeating the disaster of two yahrens ago when the Leonians made
their ill-considered strike."
	"Yes," Deval said simply.   "Valan, you know the last thing we want
to do is cause harm to any of those in your ranks who have achieved
Enlightenment.     We've made it an iron-clad rule amongst ourselves
that the only targets we attack are ones that we've coordinated ahead of
time as viable ones to engage in that help your cause by diminishing the
ranks of those loyal to the High Command.      But the Outer Colony
leadership wants to do something for themselves and the longer they've
been idle, the more I'm getting the impression that it's making them
blur the distinction between Enlightened Cylons and Loyal Cylons and not
see any substantive difference between the two factions."
	"That is unfortunate," Valan conceded.   "I must confess, it is
amazing that those Colonies have shown restraint for as long as they
have.     I suppose sooner or later, the human desire for action had to
reach a breaking point."
	"We can prevent another Leonian disaster from happening again if we
can get them intelligence on what would be appropriate targets on those
three planets for them to strike at.  Also, it would help to know if
Governor Kore has completely withdrawn ground forces from Piscera as a
prelude to conducting stepped up operations in the other Outer
Colonies."
	"And how much longer are they willing to wait for such
intelligence?"
	Deval took a breath, "By this time next sectan, it will likely be
too late to stop them."
	"You are wise to not be too precise with me," the Command Centurion
said.
	"That's only because not even I know the exact date they might act. 
 I only know that by then, they're likely going to proceed with or
without the intelligence."
	"Very well.    The question then becomes one of whether it's
possible for me to obtain this information.      That requires getting
access to those who are close to Governor Kore on Aquarius who consider
themselves to be Enlightened.     Since the Leonian disaster, it has not
been easy to gain access to them as it was before.      Some who may
have considered themselves Enlightened before, may at this point
consider themselves to be more.....neutral in their perspective.   Their
disdain for the High Command remains, but their willingness to actively
work against them through collaboration with the Humans is
quite......diminished."
	"And that is understandable," Antony spoke up for the first time.  
"But if the Outer Colonies demonstrated that they know the difference
between the two factions in choosing their targets, they might reassess
their neutrality."
	"I have no doubt of that.     But we come back to the central
problem.    There has been increased isolation between the operations of
Governor Malus here in the Inner Colonies and Governor Kore in the Outer
Colonies.     It has been so long since I had direct contact with anyone
in the Outer Colony command structure, that to re-establish it at this
point could easily result in Governor Kore discovering where my
loyalties have been all this time.  Were that to happen, the
ramifications would be most disastrous for you and all of your
compatriots in the Inner Colonies."
	"Yes, we know," Deval nodded.   "None of this is easy for any of
us.     If you say that it's impossible to obtain this
intelligence......then it becomes imperative for those like myself and
Anders of Gemon to persuade them not to attack while there's still
time."
	"I will not say it is impossible," Valan said.   "But I can not
promise anything.     Especially in light of what.....I wished to speak
to you about."
	Deval felt himself tense slightly since he was already convinced
this wasn't going to be good news.   "Go on, Commander."
	"I received a direct communique from Governor Malus yesterday," the
Command Centurion said, "He has heard from His Eminence, the Imperious
Leader, for the first time in more than a yahren.     You will be
interested to know that the phenomenon of Enlightenment is indeed
widespread throughout the Empire.     His Eminence reports that Gomorrah
and Cannes are lost."
	The two Capricans were both surprised by this information but their
reactions were restrained to that of raised eyebrows and widened eyes.
	"Incredible," Antony said.   "Spontaneous uprisings?"
	"No details were given.     The ramifications of these events
though mean that His Eminence is determined to put pressure on Dr.
Ravashol to come up with results that can hopefully reverse this process
of Enlightenment.     That means that Commander Vulpa's position is no
longer......secure."
	Deval carefully digested this news.   "He's going to have Vulpa
replaced?"
	"If Vulpa does not present from Ravashol, something that produces
noticeable results in reversing the phenomenon of Enlightenment, then
His Eminence will have Vulpa replaced.    And according to Governor
Malus in the event that happens, I am to leave Caprica and assume
Vulpa's position on Arcta," he then added, "It was His Eminence who
specifically requested I be given the assignment if it comes to that."
	"I see," the Caprican leader realized that the phenomena of the
Resistance and the emergence of Enlightened Cylons was having greater
impact than could have been imagined.    But Valan's news also offered a
reminder of how success could also lead to outcomes that in the
long-term could undo all that had been accomplished.  "Do you know when
Vulpa is due to arrive?"
	"That, I have no way of knowing.    At minimum, it is a matter of
sectars, as opposed to sectans because of the distance from Arcta, and
presumably Dr. Ravashol must have some time to come up with *something*
that in theory will serve the Imperious Leader's purpose.     At the
very least, your fellow leaders should start planning for long-term
contingencies that do not include sympathetic leadership on Caprica.   
If events forced me to accept reassignment to Arcta, I would of course
do my best to maintain Dr. Ravashol's cover, but I may not be in
position to insure a reliable successor to my post here on Caprica."
	"We understand," Antony said.   "Thank you for this information,
Valan."
	"I will see what can be done regarding the intelligence you desire
concerning the Outer Colonies.    Signal me in five cycles time.     One
beep will mean I have met with success either in whole or part, and we
will arrange a meeting for the following cycle.    Two beeps will mean I
have nothing to offer."
	"We will signal then," Deval bowed respectfully.   "Thank you
again, Commander."
	Valan nodded respectfully and returned to his transport vehicle.   
The centurion driver started it up and it resumed its journey down the
paved pathway that led to the Umbra ruins.   Once the sound of it had
faded away, the two Caprican Resistance leaders moved off to begin the
journey back to the safety of the Agricultural Institute.


	As Valan rode toward Umbra, his computer brain felt a sense of what
he knew to be the emotion humans called regret.    Regret that stemmed
from the fact that once again, as had been the case for the last two
yahrens, there was one thing he had never been able to tell Deval or any
other member of the Resistance.    Something they would have found more
helpful than anything else he had ever told them.      But long ago, the
decision had been made that now was not the time to reveal that hidden
piece of information.
	He could only hope that on the day they did learn what it was he
had held back from them, they would understand the reasons why.


	During the six kilometrone walk back through the open fields that
led to the Institute, the conversation between the two Resistance
leaders was guarded.
	"On the one hand it's great to know that Enlightenment is a
widespread phenomena in the Empire," Antony said, "But on the other
hand.....if it means we're going to have to deal with leadership we
can't trust on Caprica in the future......that's going to potentially
put our operations at risk."
	"Exactly," Deval nodded, "Without Valan to look the other way, the
Institute may not be our safe haven for the long haul any longer.     An
unenlightened Commander could probably pinpoint our location relatively
quickly and that would mean we'd either have to turn our place into a
blastproof bunker we can never come out of, or start looking into the
possibility of a wholesale evacuation to somewhere else on the planet."
	"And that's the last thing the population needs to go through,"
Antony grunted.  "The Institute has been perfect for our needs since the
beginning.     The people do regard it as.....secure in so many ways."
	"We're going to have to convene an executive meeting about this
tonight.    I can imagine Dr. Artemis will complain the most about
giving up all of the planting and lab facilities she has at her
disposal, but if she and her team have to learn how to start working the
soil above ground for a change from somewhere else, then so be it."
	"Of course the way to prevent all this is to make sure Valan never
gets reassigned," Antony noted, "That means making sure Vulpa's position
remains secure."
	"And that means the other thing we have to do is think of ways that
will help keep Vulpa in good standing with the Imperious Leader, which
means we have to think of a new elaborate way to make the High Command
think they're succeeding for a change."  Deval then looked at his
deputy, "Got any ideas on how to do that, Colonel?"
	The second-in-command let out a grim chuckle, "Not at the present
time, sir."


	When they returned to the Institute and descended to the
underground lab facilities below that housed the Colony and all its
resources, they saw only pensive faces in the Command Center greeting
them.
	"Something wrong?" Deval asked as he unzipped the top of his
commando suit.
	"We've received a message from Gemon," Com-Tech Soames said,
"Anders was shot by a fanatic from the Otori Sect.   He's in a coma
right now."
	"Oh my God," Deval whispered.    Of all the other Resistance
leaders, Anders was the only one he felt had demonstrated truly
exceptional leadership skills when it came to the dual responsibilities
of keeping a population together and directing effective Resistance
operations.   Most of the rest, he felt, tended to be exceptional in one
area and merely competent in the other. He knew they were aware of their
limitations, which was why so many had deferred to him as the unofficial
leader of the entire Resistance movement.
	"Ashera needs to speak to you in total privacy," Soames motioned to
the console.   "If you're ready, we'll clear out of the room so you can
talk to her."
	"Yes," the Caprican leader warily nodded as he took his seat and
waited for everyone else to leave, including Antony.     When the door
closed and he was alone he activated the secure line.      Immediately,
Ashera's face came on the screen.      He noticed right away that she
wasn't exuding her usual aura of incredible beauty.    Her red hair was
disheveled and her eyes showed the sunken quality of one who had clearly
not slept.    It was the kind of look he knew right away, having seen it
so many times among the weary members of his own population.
	"How is he?" the words came rapidly out of his mouth.
	"Still in a coma," her voice, ordinarily attractively husky had a
hoarse, raspy edge that suggested she'd been doing a lot of shouting
recently.    "Our Medical Officer says he doesn't show any change by
tomorrow......this may be permanent."
	"What in Hades happened?" Deval struggled to come to terms with
this.   He was prepared for the idea of Anders or any other Resistance
leader being killed in battle, but not at the hands of a fellow human.  
  That was beyond unthinkable in a post-Destruction universe.
	"Anders used to be a member of the Otori sect.      There
are.....were five active Otori in our ranks, and one of them is a
fanatic who decided that because Anders was using the Otori gift of
telepathy, he was committing heresy because he's no longer a practicing
Otori," she sighed, "But that's not relevant as far as this conversation
is concerned, Deval.   This has to do with why Anders was engaged in
telepathy.    And why if he doesn't come out of the coma, there's a lot
of important information we need to know that we'll never learn until
it's much too late."
	"What are you talking about?" 
	"I'm talking about the fact that Anders made contact with the
Galactica and he found out that Ila succeeded."


	It took Ashera ten centons to tell Deval everything.     He had
listened to everything in slack-jawed disbelief.     For all the
encouragement he'd given Ila in undertaking the mission, he had never
dreamed of hearing news that her mission had been successful.
	"I don't think I have to tell you that the information I've just
passed on to you isn't going to be enough to convince hotheads like
Eleazar that they don't have to go ahead with foolhardy raids on their
planets," the Gemonese redhead said.  "It has to come from Anders
himself, and it has to include whatever it was he'd just learned from
his cousin before Athol shot him.    I'm sure he learned a lot of
details that clarifies this point about who is coming back to help us if
it isn't the Galactica and how long will it be before they get here.   
And only that kind of detail will make an impact and get the Outer
Colonies to cool off."
	"I agree with you," Deval knew he had to put aside his stunned
shock and think like a leader dealing with a difficult command problem,
"But assuming the worst and Anders doesn't come out of it, we'll have to
reveal what we know at some point.     It doesn't change the fact that
help *is* coming."
	"Yes, but you know Eleazar will think we've made this up just to
buy time.     He'll probably get Melchior to go along with him.    
Sabina may show more caution but unless we get all of them onboard,
we'll still have a problem.     It only takes one more blind raid that
ends up killing our Cylon allies instead of our enemies, to make more of
our allies think about becoming our enemies again."
	"I don't doubt it.     But I can't agree to keeping this under
wraps from the others at the next meeting.     If Eleazar, Melchior and
Sabina tell us they're going ahead, then we have to tell them what we
know."
	"Fair enough.    I'll do all the talking since I'd be relaying what
Anders confided in me about his cousin and the bond he's had with her in
the past," she paused for a micron and then added, "And I'm prepared to
say something else when Eleazar decides to call me a liar."
	"What?"
	Ashera took a breath, "I'm prepared to confess something
that......only one other person knows and it's not Anders.    I'm not
going to mention who that other person is without his consent,
but......what it comes down to is there's a scandal in my past that if
known would make everyone distrust my ability to act as a Resistance
leader.    But if I confess it, then Eleazar will have no choice but to
believe my story about Anders making contact with the Galactica."
	"What are you talking about, Ashera?" Deval was finding it harder
and harder to keep up with these events.
	The redhead looked him in the eye, "You are going to keep this in
absolute confidence if it turns out I don't have to reveal this?"
	"Of course I am," the Caprican felt his exasperation rising.   "You
can trust me, and I know I can trust you."
	"Even if you knew that I collaborated with the Cylons before the
Destruction?"
	Deval found himself totally at a loss for words.


SKORPIA

	"Are you all right, Neele?"
	There was no response from Eleazar's deputy.    He had a faraway
look on his face, as though he were in a different plane of reality
altogether.
	"Neele!" Eleazar barked as he shook him by the shoulder.   
Finally, the one time businessman turned to face him, shaking his head
twice as if he were coming out of a trance.
	"I'm sorry," he said.
	"We have a staff meeting in one centar," the Skorpian leader said. 
 "It's the battle plan for the assault on the Smyrna power station.   
You're going to start gathering a team when we're done going over it."
	Neele's eyes narrowed, "You're not having us go ahead with this
before we've had a chance to coordinate with Sabina and Melchior?"
	"If they're bright enough to come up with their own plans by this
evening, then we can make it a joint action.     If they don't......then
we go it alone and we do this on our timetable and no one else's.    
Certainly not the self-appointed 'leaders' of Caprica and Gemon."
	He rose from his chair, "You're going much too fast with this,
Eleazar.      We've survived as a people because we've learned how to be
patient.      Something this sudden could destroy everything we've
accomplished as well as the entire Resistance."
	"We've accomplished very little other than eke out an existence in
a sealed bunker and sitting on our astrums while others get all the
glory," Eleazar felt a rising contempt for Neele that made him wish
there'd been anyone else with military experience he could have put in
charge of the mission.     But Neele's background left him with no other
choice on that matter.    He wasn't fool enough to think the rest of his
staff wouldn't object to Neele being replaced by someone with less
experience.
	"Is that what this comes down to, Eleazar?    Personal glory for
you?     Afraid you wouldn't amount to much in a Liberated order  if you
didn't have your own campaigns to puff your chest with pride about?"
	"That'll be enough, Neele!" the Skorpian leader barked,   "Are you
going to be there at the staff meeting?"
	Neele, feeling a sense of futility resumed his seat and meekly
nodded, "Yes, sir."
	"Good.     And the only objections I want to hear from you at that
meeting have to be rooted entirely in the tactical nature of the plan,
and nothing else."
	He walked away leaving the one-time businessman alone at his
console.     His thoughts conflicted about the task that lay ahead that
he had grave doubts about.     As well as the other matter that had been
on his mind all morning.
	Maricica, where are you?    Why haven't you acknowledged me?


CAPRICA

	"Everyone else thinks I was an analyst for the Finance Ministry,"
Ashera felt a rising sense of catharsis now that her tongue was being
loosened for the first time.   "That was my cover job.    My real
designation was that of Special Analyst for the Fleet Intelligence Unit. 
  My job involved analyzing all the clandestine reports that reached
President Adar's desk.     And that included all the reports Baltar was
sending back about his secret meetings with the Cylons."
	She stopped and waited to see if Deval would say anything.    The
Caprican leader was still trying to take all this in.    As far as this
initial revelation of what her actual job had been, he wasn't surprised. 
  Ashera had always struck him as the kind of woman too intelligent to
have been in a dead-end clerical job in the Finance Ministry.     
	"You knew then," Deval finally found words to speak.   "You knew
the peace overtures were a fraud and you didn't tell the President about
it."
	"That oversimplifies things somewhat, but the net result was the
same.    I made sure that Baltar's reports got stamped with a clean bill
of health so that Adar would have no reason to question the overall FIU
analysis."
	Deval let out a disbelieving sigh and sagged in his chair, "Why?"
	"This is where it gets complicated," Ashera said.   "I wasn't
working for Baltar.   I was working for someone else who discovered what
Baltar was up to and decided to take advantage of the situation for his
own benefit.    Sire Uri of Caprica."
	"The one who financed the Caprican Renaissance?"
	"The same.     He found out that Baltar had cut some kind of deal
with the Imperious Leader in which the peace agreement would be a cover
for a Cylon sneak attack that would take out most of the Fleet and leave
all the Colonies decimated except for Baltar's own, Piscera.    Baltar
would then have a deal in place to rule Piscera free from Cylon
occupation and also apparently with responsibility for the rest of the
Outer Colonies while the Cylons would be allowed to occupy the Inner
Colonies."
	"So why didn't Uri blow the whistle on Baltar?"
	"Because Uri, like Baltar, had come to the conclusion that Colonial
Society as it existed wasn't worth saving any longer.     That defeat at
the hands of the Cylons was inevitable and that it was better to welcome
it now and try to negotiate a deal for survival that meant protecting
their own interests and perhaps being able to have power in a
Cylon-occupied order.    The only difference is that Baltar, in his
deluded mind, actually thought that long-term, allowing the Cylon attack
might shake us up into mounting a counter-strike against the Cylons one
day that could be accomplished only after we'd undergone the fires of a
purge via the attack.    Sire Uri though, was more sensible.     He was
prepared to go one step further and make sure that only a small enclave
of Colonial society would remain in which the permanent order would be
rewards for those who openly collaborated with the Cylons."
	"Where do you come into this?" Deval could barely get his words
out.    Ashera was describing something that defied all logical sense to
him.    He had long realized that treason and collaboration had to have
played a major role in the Destruction and Baltar's name had always come
up as the one who had played the central role in it.     Ashera though
was now telling him that the willingness to commit treason had been more
widespread and clearly went beyond a narrow circle of participants if
there had been two distinctly different plots at the time.
	The Gemonese woman let out a mirthless laugh, "I was approached by
a man named Charybdis who had ties to both Baltar and Uri.     By this
point, Baltar had brought Uri into his own plot to give him a proverbial
"piece of the action" in the new order that would exist after the
attack.      Charybdis was already working for Baltar as his personal
shuttle pilot, but he had a past history with Uri that ran deeper and it
was to further Uri's plot that he approached me."
	"And Uri wanted to make sure the Destruction would be far more
extensive?    I want to be sure I've nailed down the distinction between
what he wanted and what Baltar wanted," slowly Deval was trying to let
his analytical side take charge once again.
	Ashera sighed, "Fundamentally, there wasn't much of a difference
except that Baltar was making an allowance for the possibility that a
Cylon attack *could* be used toward the greater good of a counter-attack
in the future.    If it didn't work out that way and total Destruction
resulted, then he had his backup plan in place to be Piscera's puppet
ruler.    Uri's plan allowed for no possible future other than total
Destruction with rewards handed out to himself and other collaborators
he recruited.   He wanted to make sure the Destruction would be complete
and hopefully in the process, Baltar would find himself cut out of the
picture in a post-Destruction order."
	"That's why Uri was making use of this......Charybdis, who was
already in Baltar's inner circle."
	"Yes," the redheaded woman took a micron to gather her strength
before resuming since she knew she was about to get to the specifics of
her own involvement.  "Charybdis approached me and told me that he'd
found a way to hack into the systems of all the major banks in the
Colonies.   The Sagittaria Security Trust.    The Royal Bank of Libra.  
 Caprican Permanent Assurance.    Because of that hacker work, he could
see to it that a special bank account of mine could have over one
million cubits transferred to it if I made certain that President Adar
never developed any suspicions that the Cylon peace overtures could be a
trap.     Because of my position in the FIU, in which I was highly
regarded by the Director, my opinion would carry more weight than anyone
else from FIU or the other intelligence agencies who were assigned to go
over those reports."
	"And you said yes to the offer?"  Deval knew he had to push his
anger over these revelations back down.     He knew he was going to need
Ashera as an ally to deal with the matters of the here and now, and it
wasn't going to help if he let his outrage over what she was now
confessing to take charge of his emotions. 
	"I did," Ashera said without hesitation.   "I had my reasons at the
time.     I had seen enough intelligence reports over the last few
yahrens that made it clear the Cylons had no rational reason to sue for
peace.     After the Fifth Fleet was lost at Molocay they were in the
greatest position to wreak havoc on us, especially since Adar caved in
to the pacifists and didn't commission the building of two battlestars
to replace the Pegasus and the Celestia.    So yes, Deval, I bought into
the argument that we were a civilization living on borrowed time and if
that meant I had a chance to come out a survivor from what was about to
happen with a million cubits to my name, I was willing to grab it."
	The ex-Solaria pilot shook his head in amazement.    The clinical
way in which she'd described her treason, and her easy willingness to be
bought off just seemed completely at odds with the woman he'd talked to
so many times over the last two yahrens, and whom Anders had said was
the reason he'd found the courage to lead the Gemonese. 
	"I know you're shocked," Ashera went on as if she'd read his mind. 
 "You're wondering how I could have made such a decision for reasons of
pure greed.    Well maybe you had to know me then.    I wasn't a nice
person.     My intelligence aptitude tests should have landed me a
successful career in business, but because I came from a lower-class
background and looked like someone who'd be more at home taking off my
clothes in a Skorpian strip show, no one took me seriously as someone
who could do well in that field.    So I had to become a data analyst
for the Gemonese government in a dead-end job, and the only reason I got
noticed and was able to get reassigned to the FIU was because I
was.....willing to do certain favors for those who were in a position to
advance my career.    Once I got to the FIU, I finally got recognized
for my ability, but let's just say the road I took to get there didn't
leave me with a high opinion of Colonial Civilization as it existed.    
Lords know I'm not making an excuse for why I made myself a target,
but.....that's the context for why they thought I could be bought.     I
had no family or steady boyfriend to think about, so I was the perfect
subject for Uri to recruit.     And I wasn't the only one who was bought
off.     He also got to Adar's mistress, Siress Rosalind."
	"By offering her money just like you," Deval knew he had to move
on.   
	"Yes, but the only thing I'll say in Rosalind's defense, since
she's no longer alive to do it herself,  is that she had no idea what
she was getting into.     Rosalind had delusions of grandeur that she
might one day end up on the Council and even succeed Adar as President. 
  She obviously wasn't contemplating the idea it would come in a
post-Destruction order of servitude to the Cylons.      She thought it
would come as a result of a genuine peace in which her lover Adar would
be hailed as the greatest Peacemaker in the annals of Colonial history. 
   And that Adar would be in position to give her the kind of power she
had always fantasized about."
	Deval slowly nodded, "So Uri's approach with Rosalind was to take
advantage of her vanity and tell her she needed to make sure Adar never
listened to any warnings about the peace talks from anyone."
	"Exactly.    And the results paid off when Sire Anton got fed up
with Rosalind's influence and quit as Adar's chief aide.    Anton was
the one man in Adar's inner circle he might have listened to if Anton
thought there was something amiss in the intelligence reports I was
signing off on."
	"That Uri was one slimy piece of bilge scum," Deval was glad he'd
found another target to direct hatred to instead of Ashera.
	"I haven't even told you the worst of what he did.     Part of
Baltar's plan was to utilize Charybdis to sabotage the defense network
system in the Colonies so that when the attack came, no planet with
ground based scanners would see it coming and none of them could get any
ground-based viper groups airborne.     Charybdis presented himself to
Baltar as a sophisticated computer expert who could get the job done,
but in truth, he was just utilizing the same group of hackers working
for Uri who'd shown him how to get into the bank systems to pay off
Rosalind and me.    They showed him how it could also be done to all the
planetary defense systems by doing it from one colony because it seems
that in our stupidity, the defense networks of all twelve planets
operated from a common network when it should have been different for
each one.    All Charybdis had to do was take a few centars on Caprica,
and copying what he'd gotten from the hacker group, he had a shutdown
virus in place for all twelve planets that would kick in a centar before
the attack began."
	"So Uri recruited the hackers......who could make certain the
shutdown was more extensive than even Baltar realized it was going to
be.     And that meant Charybdis would be fulfilling Uri's objective of
making sure the Destruction was total and complete as far as the
Colonies were concerned."
	"And the sick thing is this group of hackers never realized what
they were being used for. They were just a group of innocent young
computer geniuses who had been toying around with the systems for fun
and stumbled into these weaknesses that were built in.    Uri found out
about it because one of them was his own son.     A mentally challenged
young man named Copernicus who was a genius when it came to electronics
and computer systems.      Uri exploited him to find out how it could be
done and then he had Charybdis perform a shakedown on one of
Copernicus's friends in the group, a man named Hawking, to implement the
dirty work of transferring the funds to my account and Rosalind's, as
well as detailing how to render the defense network inoperative at the
right time so Charybdis could do it himself."
	Ashera then leaned back in her chair and let out a long exhale,
like that of a person who had just finished running a marathon.     Over
the monitor, Deval eyed her cautiously.
	"So that's it, then?"
	"That's the whole story as I know it."
	"Not quite," the Caprican leader said gently.   "You said one other
person knows about this, and it isn't Anders.    That means someone
who's name I'd be familiar with.    For the sake of laying everything
out, Ashera, I want to know who that is."
	The Gemonese woman didn't answer.
	"I don't give a daggit's felgercarb if it means breaking a
confidence, Ashera," his tone grew slightly testy.    "If you're going
to spill all of this at the next meeting to give Anders story about
contacting the Galactica credence, then I have to know I'm dealing with
a full deck when it comes to backing you.     That means I want that
other name, now, because I'm getting the distinct impression we're
talking about another collaborator in this whole plot."
	She closed her eyes and lowered her head for a brief instant.   
Then she raised her head and opened her eyes again, looking straight
ahead at Deval.
	"Count Mikkos," she said simply.
	A slow dawning came over Deval as everything he'd observed about
the Piscean leader the last two yahrens suddenly fell into place.    
The air of humility, the intense religiosity.....all of it pointed to a
person tormented by a guilty secret.
	"Now you know," Ashera's voice grew slightly bitter, "Now for the
love of God, don't make me mention his name at the meeting unless he
feels motivated by his own conscience to speak up.   Give the man that
much dignity at least."
	"I will," Deval promised.   "And I won't ask you to explain the
specifics of his involvement today.    I can guess some of it just
because Baltar was his cousin."
	"It's more complicated than that, but I'm not saying another word
about it," Ashera said. "The whole thing is sordid and complex, but the
bottom line is that I have to carry the stigma of being partly to blame
for everything that happened to all of us.     I could have blown the
whistle to Adar or the Council or to anyone in the press but I didn't.  
I let myself be bought off and I rationalized it right up to the night
of the attack when I realized the Cylon plan never made any room for
letting collaborators live.   So in the name of survival, when I found
myself caught up with Anders and everyone else, I reverted to my cover
story of who I worked for.   Even though Anders was in the FIU and I
knew of him, he didn't know about me because he didn't have a high
enough level of security clearance to know about my position there."
	"And you've never told him."
	"I felt I'd been punished enough by the God I'd never believed in
before by living and seeing the consequences of my actions," Ashera went
on.   "I thought I'd been spared having to tell anyone else about it,
and the fact that Mikkos never exposed me I counted as another blessing. 
  But now I've got to face the fact that confession may be the only
thing that can save the Resistance from cracking apart if it will make
the Outer Colony leadership believe that Ila succeeded and help is on
the way to us."
	Five microns passed before Deval then added quietly, "Unless Anders
comes out of it and can tell us everything he learned."
	"Every micron that goes by makes that seem less likely," she idly
brushed her eye as though she were trying to keep a first tear from
forming.
	Deval leaned forward, "Is there another way of making contact with
Anders' cousin on the Galactica?     If he could do it, then couldn't
another Otori who has the gift of telepathy be able to do it and learn
the same information Anders was going to tell us?"
	A slow dawning seemed to come over Ashera's face.     Abruptly, all
the emotional angst vanished and suddenly, the look of a determined
Resistance leader that Deval had seen many times over the last two
yahrens was back.
	"Give me a centar," she abruptly rose from her chair.   "I'll get
back to you if I find out anything.     You've given me an idea that may
be a long shot, but it's all we've got."
	And then, she switched off the transmitter leaving Deval to stare
at a now blank screen.   Warily, the Caprican leader rose from his
chair, wishing he could have the stiffest of drinks possible.


GALACTICA FLEET-THE CONSTELLATION

	"I'm proud of you," Dante's voice was brimming with admiration as
he looked at his wife across the ward room table.
	Hunley smiled awkwardly, trying not to blush, "I did what I had to
do.    And Lords willing, it will make a difference for Anders and
everyone else back home."
	"And the Commander's assured you protection if the Otori militants
decide to target you for.....violating tradition by using the Gift."
	"I'm not afraid of them any longer," his wife said defiantly.  
"The more I think about it, the more I realize they're not a threat to
me or anyone else now that my grandfather is dead.    He was the last
true fanatic among the sect in our ranks.     At least, Lords be
praised, the one he really wanted to be his successor didn't end up
among us."
	"Yeah, you mentioned him once," the Constellation XO said, "What
was his name?"
	"Athol," Hunley sighed as she lifted her java cup.   "After my
parents were cut off, he became something of a surrogate son to
grandfather.    If grandfather didn't think he would live forever, he
would have already designated him as the next Mukar before the
Destruction."
	Just as she finished her thought, an uneasy expression came over
her.    Her hand started to tremble and it caused her to drop the java
cup, where it clattered to the table and then onto the floor.    That
got the attention of others seated in the ward room as Dante got up and
immediately came to his wife's aid.      Her face had taken on a deathly
paleness as she seemed ready to slump out of her seat and onto the
floor.
	Sergeant Lauren Wagner, who had just finished her meal was the
first to reach the table.   Airman Brandon Reynolds, her fellow U.S. Air
Force member was right behind her.
	"What's wrong?" she asked.
	"I don't know," Dante was concerned as he came round and with
Lauren and Reynolds assisting, got Hunley to her feet.   "Let's get her
to Doc Rena, fast!"   As he steadied his wife, he whispered in her ear,
"It's going to be okay, darling."
	"Ohhhh......," Hunley moaned slightly, her eyes still closed as
they carried her out of the ward room.      One thought was going
through her mind over and over.
	Anders......Anders......what's happened to you?


GEMON

	The news of Anders' shooting had cast a pall over the community.   
 It hadn't kept the people from maintaining their duty schedules, but
there was a distinct somberness in the air.     And when Ashera walked
through the corridors, all heads visibly went up to look at her as they
all knew that for now, with Anders in a coma, leadership of the
community was her responsibility.
	The redheaded woman didn't acknowledge any of the glances as she
made her way to a room set aside as a female barracks area.     There
were over two dozen women off-duty who were catching up on their rest
periods before they'd be reporting to work during the evening and
overnight cycles.     One woman who wasn't asleep though, but was seated
on the edge of her lower bunk in a hunched meditative posture, was the
Otori woman, Nupondi.
	Ashera came up to her and promptly grabbed her wrist.    It jolted
her out of her posture, and when she looked up there was fiery anger in
her eyes.
	"I'm in mourning for Maricica," Nupondi angrily whispered, "I can
not be disturbed."
	"Oh yes you can," Ashera didn't mince words.   "You said Maricica
was in contact with an Otori on Skorpia.     I want his name.   Now."
	The Otori woman's posture stiffened and her eyes blazed more with
anger, "I was told all this in confidence.    You are asking me to
betray Otori tradition-----,"
	"Otori tradition is what's responsible for this whole fracking mess
we're in right now, so I don't give felgercarb about respecting it,"
Ashera snapped.   "If Maricica gave you his name, then I want it.  
Now."
	Nupondi was silent, her eyes still revealing her anger.     But all
the while, Ashera's eyes were matching hers.
	"NOW!" the acting Gemonese leader raised her voice, which caused
some of the sleeping women in the barracks to come to.
	Finally, knowing that tradition wouldn't allow her to lie, Nupondi
reluctantly nodded.
	"His name is Neele," she barely forced it out.   "He's chief aide
to the Skorpian Resistance Leader, Eleazar."
	"Thank you," Ashera turned and quickly left the room.



Chapter Seven

SOMEWHERE BEYOND THE HEAVENS

	Anders didn't know how long the uncomprehending blackness had
lasted.   The only thing he was now aware of was the sensation
of......light.     Distant at first like seeing the sliver of daylight
at the far end of a long tunnel.     But then picking up in intensity
until finally, it was all around him.
	And yet at the same time, he felt no ability to move.    It was
more like a sensation of being upright, yet his feet couldn't touch the
ground.   As though he were slightly suspended in mid-air.    He managed
to raise his arm, and then noticed his sleeve was white.   Glancing
down, he saw it was also true of all his clothing.
	"Am I dead?" he whispered aloud.
	"You're not dead, Anders."
	His head whipped around at the sound of a familiar voice to him.   
A voice from his past that he'd tried to forget about for yahrens.     
His eyes locked on to the source of the voice and he stiffened in shock. 
 It was her.   His one time girlfriend from over five yahrens ago.   
Much like Ashera, she'd had a brash, earthy quality that had attracted
him to her when they'd first met at the Colonial Academy.     But the
relationship had ultimately collapsed.     When he'd first met her, she
had already washed out of cadet training once before, and through
political connections she'd managed to get a second shot at the Academy
four yahrens later.     She had boldly declared to him that she was
going to take advantage of her second chance and prove all the naysayers
wrong who said she'd had no aptitude for being a warrior.     But her
second chance had gone even worse than the first chance and she had
earned the dubious distinction of being a double washout. An experience
that had embittered her and ultimately poisoned the aspiring
relationship she'd had with Anders.     Even though Anders had loved
her, he'd found there was a limit to how much he could endure and so the
relationship had ended.     He had walked out of her life and never seen
her again.    Never knowing what had become of her.     Until now.
	"Thrace?" he whispered.
	"Yes," the short-haired blonde woman sighed.    Her voice devoid of
the edge it had been known for.    Like him, she was garbed in white,
though instead of normal attire she seemed garbed in an ethereal type of
robe.   "Yes, Anders.   It's me.     But unlike you.....I am dead.    I
died the night of the Destruction like most everyone else did."
	"What happened to you?" he tried to move toward her, but the
sensation of not being able to touch any kind of ground seemed to keep
him at a respectable distance from his one-time love.
	"I moved on," Thrace said simply.  "I.....put the past behind me
and found a decent line of work.    But it came after I'd been through a
few sectars of therapy, and one lesson I was taught was that I had to
remove all traces of the past from my life in order to move on.    That
meant having nothing to do with the military or flying or anything or
anyone connected with it.   And that meant.....I could never reach out
to you again.     Because no matter what I might have still felt in my
heart about you, if I'd done it, it would mean drawing me back into that
whole culture of the military that was ruining my life.    So I stayed
away and never bothered to find out what happened to you."
	Her explanation made perfect sense to him.     He had wondered many
times why a woman of such brashness, who had always wanted to fight for
what she'd wanted had never tried contacting him after he'd walked out. 
   It could only have been the result of making a dramatic change to her
life.    One that had clearly been for the better.
	"Did you ever.....find someone else?" he asked.
	"I did," she nodded, "He died with me that night.   But you're not
here to learn the rest of my story, Anders.    You're here for more
important reasons.    Now that you're here.....you know what happened to
you, and why."
	"Athol," her one-time boyfriend whispered as the realization of it
suddenly filled his brain for the first time.   "He.....shot me because
he saw me as a Heretic for using the Gift."
	"Yes.  And now.....you're in a coma.    And you haven't been able
to tell anyone what Hunley revealed to you."
	The magnitude of the situation came back to him.    His face
twisted with anguish, "Can you....get me back?   Can you get me out of
this coma?"
	"We can not intervene in matters that have been decided by free
will, Anders," Thrace said with regret.  "Athol's action against you was
not the result of an outside influence aimed at thwarting you from
delivering this information.     Had that been the case.....it would be
in our power to set matters right.     But your fate is entirely in the
hands of Dr. Alexion and his team. Your coma is not necessarily
permanent......but only they have the power to bring you out of it."
	A sick sense of defeat seemed to fill him.    He was on the verge
of shouting a protest when Thrace went on.
	"But it is possible to insure that regardless of what happens to
you, Anders, the information you learned from Hunley *will* get to the
Resistance."
	"How?" Anders demanded.  "I'm the only one who knows it!    And
Hunley has no way of knowing what's happened to me."
	"Think back to what you know of the Otori power of the Gift," she
said simply.   "And how even in the state you find yourself in
now......the power is still there."
	His eyes narrowed and suddenly, a new dawning came over him.   
	"Yes," the Gemonese leader whispered, "Yes!    In this comatose
state.....I can still reach out to her.    Let her know what's happened
to me.    But....even if she knows that, she still can't relay the
information without me."
	"Is that really true, Anders?" her voice was gentle but with a
pointed quality designed to make him think.    "Is there truly no other
way for Hunley to communicate, if you remain in the coma?      Analyze
all of the information you know and tell me if that's true."
	Anders grew silent as he felt his mind take advantage of the
"intelligence blast" he had undergone in his youth.     Enabling him to
recall things he had observed and things he had learned from
others......like right now when he'd learned the full details of who had
shot him and why.
	"Another Otori has the Gift," he said.   "The one Maricica was in
contact with."
	"Yes.     Now that you know that......what must you do while your
body is still in a coma?"
	"I must reach out to Hunley and tell her......what has happened to
me.    And that......she must connect with another as soon as possible. 
  One who is on.......Skorpia.      The one named......Neele."
	"You have reasoned this from your own free will," Thrace said with
admiration.   "We have simply removed an unnecessary barrier.     
Now.....you must connect with Hunley.    And tell her everything."
	"It will be traumatic for her," Anders said.   "When two Otori who
are blood kin share the Gift and one is suffering.......they
instinctively develop an empathetic bond.     Will she be able to
withstand this?"
	"That is dependent on her strength," Thrace said.   "Do you have
faith in her, Anders?"
	He managed to nod.
	"We will remove the final impediment to your ability to
communicate," Thrace motioned her arm.    "Behold.....the power of the
sun that the Otori draws from, is at your disposal.    To give you the
strength you need to reach her."
	The white glow of his surroundings suddenly changed in color to a
more golden hue as Anders realized he was floating in space......and in
close proximity to the sun of the Twelve Worlds.
	"The Lords give their blessing to you, Anders," he heard her voice,
now more faint and echoing as if it were coming across a great distance.
	Knowing he couldn't be distracted any further he shut his eyes and
directed all of his mental faculties into the task at hand for him.



GALACTICA FLEET-THE CONSTELLATION

	"How is she?" Dante looked at Dr. Rena with deep concern.
	The Constellation's Chief Medical Officer shook her head, "I'm
going to give it to you straight, Dante.   I've never seen anything like
this before.  The biometer is not picking up any patho-physiological
reasons for her lack of consciousness.  Yet, her pupils are fixed and
non-reactive."  She dropped her gaze, hesitating before asking,  "Has
she taken anything? 
	"Taken anything, what do you . . . No!" Dante exclaimed, his face
flushing when he realized the implication.  His fists curled and he
leaned forward.  "This is Hunley!  Not some space-happy burnout!"
	"I'm sorry, but I have to ask.   Obviously it could impact the
situation."
	Dante nodded curtly.
	"Tox screen just came back negative, Doctor," Med-Tech Nestor said.
	"Thanks, Nestor.  Although a micron earlier would have been nice,"
Rena added under her breath.  "So she's either unconscious from some
kind of obscure illness I can't identify or else...what?"  She ran
through the test results once again.
	"Or else she's gone into some kind of whack-a-doodle trance the
likes of which we've only seen in an IFB episode of the Empyrean
Necromancer," Nestor suggested while deftly inserting a second IV.
	"I don't think so," Rena shook her head. 
	"But she's not....in any danger, is she?" Dante demanded.   His
eyes flickered between his wife and the physician.
	"At this centon, no.   Bu we need to monitor her life signs and see
what happens," Rena said emphatically.  "She's tachycardic, but stable. 
We wait and watch her for now."
	Dante looked down at his wife's motionless form.    The pale pallor
was still there.    This didn't fit what Hunley had described to him in
the past about how an Otori made contact with another through the Gift. 
  It was clearly something different.     
	But what?


CAPRICA

	Deval had retreated to his quarters after his talk with Ashera,
shunning conversation with everyone else.    Warily, he sat on the edge
of his bed and began to rub the bridge of his nose endlessly, trying to
ward off the onset of a headache.   A headache that he knew stemmed from
the inability of his mind to keep up with everything.
	In another corner of the room, little Abby was in front of the
small table that was her play station.    Frequently, she liked to pass
the time by drawing crude pictures with two colored styluses that had
been scrounged up, one blue the other red.     For nearly four yahrens,
he'd marveled at how the child had never stopped drawing her memories of
life as she'd known it before the Destruction.    Sometimes drawing the
playground area that he knew her parents had often taken her to.   
Other times it was the beach.      No matter the setting, one thing was
always constant.     She always drew two figures in the scene.    
Herself, and another figure that he knew was meant to be her father.    
Even if it wasn't a good representation, there was no mistaking the
distinctive moustache of Deval's old wingmate on the Solaria, Sergeant
Mattoon.
	He noticed how Abby never drew a figure meant to represent her
mother, Jana.    That didn't surprise Deval, because Abby's traumatized
mind couldn't deny the reality of her mother's death.    She had spent
multiple days staring at her mother's dead body in the ruins of their
Caprica City apartment in District 8 until Deval had rescued her.    
She knew that no amount of wishing could ever bring her mother back.    
But she had no such proof to make her accept that her Daddy was gone
forever from her life.     That was why she continued to draw him.    
Because Deval knew that deep inside Abby was the hope that one day she'd
see him again, and she'd be able to play with him once again like in the
old days.
	When will she ever be able to accept the reality?  Deval sighed as
he watched her draw.   At what age does she finally stop drawing him
because she knows it's not going to happen?
	The door opened and he saw Antony standing in the doorway, his
expression pensive.    His deputy was the only one who had authorization
to disturb him without resorting to the chime.
	"Yes, Colonel?" he got up.
	"Sir.....we need to brief the Section Heads on what Valan told us."
	He sighed and followed him out.     Not noticing that Abby had
stopped her drawing to watch him leave.
	"God bless Uncle Deval," the little girl said aloud after the door
had closed.


GALACTICA FLEET-THE CONSTELLATION

	Hunley had felt a wave of indescribable agony and suffering
reaching out to her across the stars.     She knew it meant something
terrible had happened to Anders and he was now reaching out to her to
let her know that.    The only way to remove the pain was to remove
herself from a conscious state.    And then......she might be able to
hear him, even without the nourishing presence of exposure to the sun.
	Anders......Anders, what's happened to you?
	Through the black void she heard something faint.     Like a
garbled transmission on a gamma frequency.     But becoming clear at
intermittent intervals so she could hear him.
	Hunley.....I am in a coma.    A victim of Otori fanaticism.    I
don't----can recover----Resistance----hasn't heard information.
	No!   Her mind cried out.    You're the only way they can know!
	I may not-----must contact-----other Otori----Skorpia.    
Name------
	Who?    Who, Anders?    
	It was like garbled static again for over ten microns.    Had she
been flying in her Viper near the sun like before it would have been
distinct and clear.     She knew she needed to compensate for that with
all her strength.


	"Dr. Rena!" Nestor shouted with alarm, "She's tachycardic at 180,
and her blood pressure is dropping!""
	"Frack!" she grunted, looking at the cardiac readouts.  "And now
she's in V-Tach!"
	"The usual cocktail?" the med tech asked, already programming the
antiarrhythmics to be dosed. 
	"You know it, Nestor," Rena replied, eyes glued to the overhead
monitor as she studied the outcome.  She frowned.  "Add Magnesium.1
gram."
	Dante wanted to scream in agony.    The thought of losing Hunley
was the last thing he was prepared to contemplate     Even though they'd
been sure the danger from the Otori had passed, he didn't know if he
could explain Hunley's secret under these circumstances.    And yet, he
realized it could mean the difference in saving her life if he did.
	"Doctor, I . . ." he began hesitantly.


	Who, Anders?    Who must I contact?   Hunley could feel a sensation
of pain inside her head like nothing else she'd experienced.     As if
her brain were about to explode with the intensity of a supernova.
	But that sensation of pain, caused by the channeling of all her
strength to compensate for the lack of exposure to a golden sun.    And
it allowed her to hear the next words from her cousin with total
clarity.
	His name is Neele.   Captain Neele of Skorpia.    Reach out to him. 
  Make him aware of your presence.    He will then take the steps to
answer you properly.     I may recover, but if I don't, then Captain
Neele must be your instrument!    He is a faithful Otori and has the
Gift!
	Captain Neele......Yes!    I will do it!     May the Lords heal
you, Anders!
	And then.....she relaxed herself and felt the strain diminish.


	"She's back in sinus rhythm!" Rena said.  
	"Bio-signs are stabilizing," Nestor added.
	"Lords of Kobol be praised," Rena felt a wave of relief.   "The
meds worked after all. Cancel shock resuscitation.   She won't need it. 
Good work, team."
	Dante closed his eyes and let out a grateful sigh of cathartic
thanks.    When he opened his eyes, he looked down and saw that Hunley
had opened her eyes and was looking up at him.    Her normal coloring
had returned and she seemed as if she'd merely awaken from a deep sleep.
	"It looks like you're going to be okay, Lieutenant," Rena said.  
"I'm going to need you to stay here for 24 centars observation."
	"No," Hunley came upright and shook her head, "No.   I've got to
go.   In fact.....I've got to go back out."
	"Out of the question!" Rena felt her authority as a doctor kicking
in, "After what you went through----,"
	"I'm okay, Doctor," the Gemonese warrior said firmly.   "And right
now, you have to let me leave.     It's imperative I do so."
	She turned and looked at her husband, "Anders made contact with me. 
   Something's happened to him.    I need to go out and establish
contact with someone else in the Resistance who has the Gift."
	Her husband was still shaken by what he'd seen her go through,
"You're okay?"
	"I'm fine," Hunley's tone was warm and reassuring, "But if I don't
get back out there and do something about what I've just heard, then
I'll have failed the Commander and the Resistance."
	Dante nodded and then looked at the Chief Medical Officer.   All of
his command posture as the Constellation's XO had just returned.
	"Let her go, Doctor," he said with full authority, "That's an
order.   And don't go to Commander Byrne to override me on this, because
I'll then be forced to take it up with Commander Adama.     He'll back
me completely on this."
	"So noted," Rena grunted disapprovingly.  "Just as it'll be noted
that she was discharged against medical advice.     Obviously, there was
more at play here than I was made aware of, Captain."
	"That's true, Doctor," Dante conceded.
	"Then before you go let me add this.    Your wife almost died.  
Whatever *this* was, perhaps you can add it to her medical history. 
Putting it in terms an executive officer might understand, while she was
'making contact', we were navigating blindly through a mine field trying
to keep her alive.  This could have turned out far differently than it
did.  And you could have been going home alone."
	"I stand properly chastised on that point, Doctor," the XO
acknowledged.  "And I thank you and Nestor for doing your job well."
	Rena nodded her head and backed away as Hunley got up from the
table.   The lieutenant clasped her husband's hand as they walked out of
the Life Station together.


SKORPIA

	"Okay, you've all had twenty-four centars to study the Drone Camera
footage," Eleazar said to the five men and two women gathered around the
conference table.    "Are we agreed the Smyrna power station looks
vulnerable to outside assault?"
	A near unified affirmative chorus went up from the table.    Neele
was about to voice the tactical objection he'd made earlier but to his
relief found he didn't have to since he saw someone else at the table, a
former licensed protector named Jacoby shaking his head and raising his
hand.
	"Yes, Jacoby?" Eleazar called on him with slight irritation.
	"I'm not convinced we have enough information based on just the
Drone Camera footage," he said.    "There are at least three blind spots
I counted where a team could go in and find out that a large column of
centurions could be passing in and out at a given time.     At the very
least, that part of the complex has to be eyeballed from ground level."
	"I agree," Neele jumped in, knowing the others would give his
perspective great weight.
	"I see," Eleazar calmly exhaled as he paced back and forth at the
front of the table with his hands behind his back.   "So you would
rather we waste time sending scouts at ground level to get close enough
to take a look and hope they don't get spotted in the meantime?"
	"I think one scout would be enough," the former protector held his
ground.   "If we think we can send a whole demo team in later to mount
an assault on the complex without being seen, then surely one scout
stands an even better chance of staying hidden!"
	"Especially if it's nightfall by the time the scout reaches the
Power Station," Neele added with the voice of one who had more
experience in these matters, even if they'd all been war game exercises
and not actual combat conditions.    "All he has to do is take one of
the hovercycles we keep topside to go half the distance to Smyrna and
then cover the rest on foot."
	"Yes!" Jacoby was glad he wasn't alone making the argument.   "If
we can get that extra piece of intelligence to study the pattern of
centurion movement at ground level, then the assault mission would stand
a much greater chance of success."
	"It still smacks of an unnecessary delay," the Skorpian leader
didn't hide the irritation in his voice.
	"How can that be?    The earliest we'd be mounting this assault
would be next sectan, wouldn't it?    We should take advantage of the
time we have and get more information from a different perspective."
	"You're operating from an erroneous assumption, Jacoby," Eleazar
stopped pacing and looked him square in the eye.  "We're going to strike
tomorrow."
	Two other heads at the table promptly took on darkened expressions. 
 Immediately, Neele realized the ramifications of the numbers.   
Potentially three of the other six Executive members were ready to
object to Eleazar's strategy.......which meant the deciding vote could
easily rest with him.
	"Commander," this from the middle-aged woman who was Chief Medical
Officer of the Colony.  "I'm all for taking action.    But why is it
essential to act tomorrow instead of next sectan?"
	"Because we need to assert ourselves right away and not be bound by
what the other Colonies are doing any longer," Eleazar pressed on.  "If
Sabina and Melchior come up with their strategies this evening and say
they can implement in a day or two, we'll postpone for that reason only
so we can make it a joint strike action, but if they choose to dawdle on
that, then we're going ahead on our own timetable."
	"I must protest!" this from the Technical Director of Operations
whose job was to keep the colony's power supply operating.    "I'm also
anxious to take action, but if you're going to have us do this too
suddenly, Eleazar, then I can't approve."
	"Agreed," Jacoby was glaring at the Commander.   "I think at the
very least you should let the rest of us vote on the subject, Eleazar."
	"That depends on what you're asking to vote on," inside the
Commander was rattled slightly but he refused to show it.  "If any of
you are insisting we wait for approval from Deval and the Inner
Colonies, then that subject isn't for discussion.    I've made the
decision that we're not going to be bound by their dictates any longer."
	"I thought the purpose was for the Outer Colonies to speak with one
voice for our own interests," the Technical Director said sourly.  "That
means working together with Sagittaria and Leo at bare minimum.  
Piscera is another matter entirely, but I'm not for having us go it
alone."
	"If three Colonies remain together, then Deval and the Inner
Colonies have to listen to us," Jacoby said.   "If we go rogue though,
then we'll risk being cut off by all the other Colonies.  However much I
might think the Inner Colonies have pulled their weight with us too
much, I'm not in favor of being left in that position."
	As Neele watched the back and forth, he marveled at how much
Eleazar's vanity and ego was being exposed now that the other members of
the Executive Leadership had brought these matters into the open.     
And how the Skorpian leader had exploited the restlessness that did
exist in the colony to embark on a path that even they were telling him
went too far.     The only question now was whether he'd back down or
choose to defy them.
	It's too bad they're not bright enough to realize how stupid it is
to plunge ahead without intelligence on whether those Cylons at Smyrna
are Enlightened or Loyal.
	"All right," Eleazar seemed ready to perform a tactical retreat.  
"We'll do it your way, Jacoby.   I'll send an advance scout out right
after this meeting to do exactly what you suggest, and *then* you'll
have no reason to object to our moving in tomorrow."
	"But we wait to move until we know Leo and Sagittaria are with us
on their plans," the one-time protector raised his hand to emphasize.
	"*If* they do so in a timely fashion," the Commander held his
ground.
	Jacoby leaned back in his chair and nodded his head.    Right away
that told Neele there wouldn't be any vote from the Leadership that
would significantly derail Eleazar's foolish plan.  The Skorpian leader
had just given them enough of a sham concession to tamp things down
completely.
	The meeting finally broke up.    The other members departed,
leaving Eleazar and Neele alone in the conference room.
	"Well, you got your way, Captain," Eleazar was almost taunting,
"I'm going to send an Advance Scout to check the Power Station right now
since we're at the right time in the afternoon cycle to get started.    
And who do you think should go out and do the honors?"
	"It doesn't matter what I say, *sir*," Neele put a sarcastic edge
on the last word, "You've clearly decided it should be me, and I accept
the order."
	The Commander let out a smug smile, "As always, you know when to
summon your Otori penchant for candor when it suits you, Neele.      But
I also have the benefit of knowing that your devotion to candor is why
the report you make will be completely honest and that you won't try to
sabotage this mission from taking place with a false intelligence
report."
	Neele rose from his chair and gave him the stiffest of salutes
before leaving without saying another word.


GEMON

	"Any change?" there was no longer any emotional angst in Ashera's
voice or bearing.   Only the professional tone of someone who knew
command responsibility rested with her for now.
	"His life signs dropped somewhat for a few centons, but they've
recovered now," Dr. Alexion said.    "That still hasn't changed the
coma."
	"Forget for just a micron that you can't use your equipment to
detect if there's radon inside his brain that's affecting him.    Did
you rule out any kind of a.......I guess the word I'm trying to think of
is hematoma?     Isn't that the thing that usually causes one to fall
into a coma?"
	Alexion was silent.     A silence that Ashera found alarming.
	"For Sagan's sake, Doctor, don't tell me you didn't bother to
check!"
	He let out a sigh, ""Of course, I did.  And yes, he does have a
subdural hematoma resulting from his head impacting a rock when he fell
to the ground.   Which was a terrible break for him because if he'd
fallen an inch or two to his left he would have struck soft grass.   But
I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for him."
	"What do you mean?    I thought something like that was treatable!"
	"By qualified neurosurgeons," Alexion said gravely.  "Of which I am
not.   I have no training in that field whatsoever.    I know what the
brain looks like on a chart, and its general location, but I have never
performed a neuro-operation in my career.    Not even in my original
medical training.    You see, I was a family practitioner all my life,
capable of assisting with routine surgery, and even did some rotations
in acute emergency care in my younger years.  And since the Destruction
thrust me into this job, I've been able to bone up in urology,
orthopedics, maternity, vascular surgery, and burn care.   I can operate
on guts, kidneys, bones, bladders, but the brain.....no."
	"So you decided that if Anders had something that would force you
to do something you have an inferiority complex about, you weren't going
to bother getting your hands dirty and even try," Ashera felt a wave of
disgust fill her, "That makes you the biggest disgrace to your
profession I've ever come across in my life!"
	"Let me tell you why they don't let unqualified doctors perform
neuro-surgery, Ashera," Alexion was unfazed, "It's because they usually
end up damaging the brain and turning the patient into a permanent
vegetable.    I don't have the equipment to monitor his intracranial
pressure, so I don't know for sure how bad it is.    It's still possible
that what's happened to Anders is something he can come out of naturally
in a short duration of time.    So long as that hope exists, I am not
going to risk destroying whatever chance he has left forever by doing
something I'm not qualified for.    And before you ask, I know the
backgrounds of all of my colleagues in the other Resistance movements on
the other planets and none of them have training in that area either, so
don't think any of them could talk me through that kind of operation."
	"But if you checked and saw he had a hematoma, then you'd know that
his only chance would be for you to operate, because I think I know
enough basic medicine to know they don't heal by themself."
	"Do you now?" he asked, before drawing in a deep grounding breath. 
"Listen up.  Right now, some of that pressure is caused by swelling from
the injury.  We're giving him medications to decrease that.  If they
work----"
	"You just said you can't measure the pressure!"
	"No, I can't.  But there's hope that with traditional treatment
that----"
	"Enough!" Ashera raised her voice, "Don't give me any more of this
felgercarb, Doctor.  I know you've never felt up to the task of being
responsible for the well-being of several hundred people.   After all,
you were counting the days to your retirement before the Destruction and
probably looking forward to your golden yahrens and a life of leisure,
but the Lords decided you were the only one capable of the job because
you're the only licensed doctor who survived with the rest of us.   
Well start showing you're a better doctor than you've ever given
yourself credit for.    Start preparing him for surgery right away
because I know you're familiar with how the procedure is done even if
you've never done it before."
	The doctor was silent, his arms crossed.    Ashera glared at him
with the coldest expression of contempt she'd ever felt for another
person in her life.
	"If you don't do this, you're going to spend the rest of your life
in a state of house arrest, where you'll be permitted to do your duties
and then spend all of your off-duty centars inside a locked cell."
	A mirthless smile came over the middle-aged doctor, "Well, I guess
that's the Pyramid hand I was waiting for you to show me.     I'll do it
under protest, but if Anders ends up a vegetable for the rest of his
life.....then the responsibility is yours, Ashera.     Now excuse me
while I go brush up on my neuro notes."
	When he turned and left her alone, the woman who was also Anders'
lover wasn't fazed in the slightest by what he'd said.
	I know this is what you'd want, Anders.    You'd want me to make
sure we'd tried.   And if it doesn't work......forgive me.
	She then headed for the Command Center and decided it was time to
find out if she could make contact with the Otori named
Neele......without Eleazar finding out the reason why.


GALACTICA FLEET-THE CONSTELLATION

	"Just get me back to the Galactica as fast as you can, so I can get
in my Viper and make contact with this.......Neele."
	Dante was sitting in front of the shuttle controls, but instead of
activating them, his head was lowered in contemplation.
	"Dante?" Hunley tapped his arm, "We can't waste time!"
	Her husband looked at her.   "Hunley......could you draw from the
sun's exposure just as easily from inside this shuttle as you could from
inside your viper?"
	The Otori born woman immediately caught on, "I know what you're
saying, Dante, but.....not as effectively because inside a viper cockpit
I 'd have more direct exposure than I do here."
	"Unless I point this thing directly at the sun and let it catch you
through the cockpit windows," Dante said.   "That should compensate.  
And......it might take care of some other complications.     If you're
going to try to contact someone you've never met before......that's
going to take a lot more effort on your part than it did when Anders was
trying to reach you from a comatose state."
	"But the sun should compensate for that," Hunley shook her head.  
"Yes, it will require a lot more concentration on my part.     But the
more strength I can draw from the sun, the less risk there is to me.   
What happened on the Constellation had more to do with the fact that I
was inside."
	"Look, Hunley, try to look at it this way," his voice rose with
concern.   "If you have to strain yourself, you're a lot better off
being in the passenger seat of a shuttle where I can then fly you back
safely if there's another emergency, then if you're in a Viper and you
suddenly don't have the strength to fly back.      This way is better
for you, and there's also the fact that we can save time by heading out
towards the sun immediately instead of going back to the Galactica first
and getting you set up in your Viper again."
	"But we need to tell Adama why this is necessary."
	"We can explain that later after we've done what we have to do," he
paused, "And the longer we argue this, the more we're just wasting
time."
	His wife smiled at him, "You sound like you've been taking lessons
in throwing the book out the window from Starbuck."
	He returned it, "Well.....he learned to follow my example when he
finally got off his astrum and married Cassiopeia, so I guess I owe him
one."
	Hunley laughed, "You may launch when ready."
	"I am," Dante said as he activated the engines and the shuttle
freed itself from the Constellation's docking ring and immediately
assumed a course......away from the Fleet and in the direction of the
golden star Hunley had been to twice already.


Skorpia
	"Well, you sure don't look like the weekend warrior you used to
be."
	Neele glared at Eleazar as he finished adjusting his black commando
suit.    He'd worn it only two times before in the last two yahrens but
it still fit securely.      
	"If you want to take a member of the demo team with you, that's
your prerogative."
	"No," the Captain shook his head.  "Risking one of them on a
scouting probe is foolish.   I may be the tactical commander of the
mission when it happens, but I'm easily replaceable if I don't come
back."
	"You have a recommendation for a backup commander in case that
happens?"
	"Yeah," he looked him in the eye with contempt, "You.   Since
you're so anxious to see this happen, I'm sure you'd love a chance to
take the troops into battle yourself."
	Eleazar was unfazed by his comments.   "My time will come
later......after this mission lets us establish our presence, first."
	Neele adjusted his gloves, "Just satisfy my curiosity though.   
What if Deval succeeded in getting us an intelligence report before we
make this strike and it says Smyrna is the wrong target for us to move
on?"
	Eleazar didn't answer him for over ten microns.   When he finally
did, his tone was flat and indifferent.
	"Quit wasting your time on speculative fantasies, Captain."
	Gallmonging snitrad, Neele thought with disgust as he turned and
left the Command Center.    Ordinarily, he would have reproached himself
for even thinking that term of derision, but his inability to connect
with Maricica and the rising discontent he'd felt over Eleazar's conduct
had left him in a more acerbic frame of mind than usual.     
	The door had just closed when the chime sounded on the console.    
With Eleazar the only one in the room, he reached down to answer it.   
Immediately, he saw the face of someone he had no desire to see
whatsoever.
	"This is a surprise, Ashera," he kept his voice even.   "We don't
often get one-on-one contact from the Inner Colonies."
	"I need to speak with your deputy, Captain Neele," there was
identical neutrality in the redhead woman's tone.   "This is a personal
message for him, only."
	"He's unavailable.    You can leave the message with me and I'll
see he gets it later."
	"No," Ashera shook her head.   "It's personal for him.    It
concerns someone he knows here on Gemon."
	"We don't have those kind of secrets here, Ashera," a faint trace
of annoyance entered Eleazar's voice which didn't go unnoticed by
Ashera.
	"All right then, Eleazar," she said coolly, "Since you don't
believe in keeping secrets, suppose you tell me why Captain Neele is
unavailable right now?"
	"It's routine work detail, which all of us I'm sure you and Anders
and everyone else is used to," he realized he should have done a better
job keeping an even keel.    "I'm not going to call him away from it
just for something you say is personal, and not urgent."
	"Very well.    When he does return, tell him to contact me
directly.   It concerns his friend, Maricica.    He'll know who I mean."
	"Maricica," the Skorpian leader nodded, "I'll tell him."
	"Thank you, Eleazar."

Gemon
	"Frack, felgercarb and shit," Ashera said under her breath as soon
as the connection with Skorpia had ended.     The fact that Neele was
doing something Eleazar wasn't willing to be candid about told her
plenty.    She immediately readjusted the console and entered the code
to connect with another of the Outer Colonies.
	The face of a gray-haired man in his forties filled the screen,
"Yes?"
	"This is Ashera, co-leader of the Gemonese," she said, "I must
speak with Siress Sabina."
	"Stand by," the man moved out of the picture.    Several centons
later the one time Leonian Vice-President had seated herself in front of
the monitor.
	"I don't think we've ever conversed before, Ashera," Sabina said. 
"Is Anders detained?"
	"Anders is in a coma right now, fighting for his life," she didn't
mince words.   "But that's not the reason I'm making contact."
	Sabina was taken aback by her words and her demeanor.   "Your
leader is in a coma, yet that's secondary?"
	"Right now it is.   What I want to know is if you're planning to
make good on what you implied at the meeting yesterday about the Outer
Colonies going alone if you don't get any new intelligence."
	Sabina's dark eyes narrowed, "Whatever I have to say about that
will come at next sectan's meeting of all Colonies."
	"The timetable just got moved up," Ashera snapped, "Because if that
is what you're planning, I want to know if Eleazar is onboard with the
idea of waiting until all three of you, Leo, Sagittaria and Skorpia are
ready to act simultaneously."
	The suspicious air faded somewhat from the Siress, "Have you been
talking to him?"
	"Yes.   And let's just say I don't like the vibe he gives off."
	Sabina let out a weary sigh, "You're not the only one."
	"Let's lay everything out, Siress Sabina," Ashera leaned forward,
"You want to act, because you're frustrated by the idleness the Outer
Colonies have been forced into as a result of bad intelligence.     But
you're nobody's fool.    That's how you got to be Vice President of Leo. 
  You know that if you want to make a statement against Deval, Anders
and the rest of us, it has to be the three of you acting in concert and
perfect harmony.     If one of you acts before the other two
do......then what we've got isn't a unified statement of principle by
three planets, but one out of control rogue leader with an ego problem."
	Sabina seemed to be weighing her options.    On the one hand, she
had long resented what she regarded to be the heavy-handedness that
Anders and Deval had embodied in assuming the lead roles of the
Resistance.     She knew that Ashera, as Anders' most trusted intimate
represented more of the same.    To reveal all of her plans to Ashera
ahead of schedule struck her as self-defeating in the worst way.   And
yet......the recent conversation she'd had with Eleazar had left her
uneasy.    For the very reasons that Ashera had expertly outlined.
	"What are you asking, Ashera?" she finally spoke.   "And what are
you offering me in return?"
	"I'm not going to demand you reveal whatever plans you've been
designing for a coordinated strike that involves all three planets,"
Ashera knew this was the first time she had to practice the diplomatic
game.    "If you're intending to reveal that at the next Leadership
meeting, then fine.    All I'm asking is a promise that if Eleazar
chooses to act early on his own timetable without you and Melchior, then
you'll disavow him and support a resolution to cut Skorpia off from all
further access to Resistance intelligence until Eleazar is replaced.    
  The whole point of what we've been able to do ever since Dr. Ravashol
gave us the ability to talk safely to each other is to make sure no one
does anything that works against the broader interests of the
Resistance."
	Siress Sabina carefully considered her words.     The fact that it
was Ashera, and not Anders presenting this argument was making it easier
for her to see the logic in it.     She had never expressed it openly
before, but she'd always felt somewhat isolated as the only woman with a
voice at the regular meetings of the Resistance Leadership.    She knew
that had been dictated by circumstances no one had any control over, but
even so she'd always wished there'd been at least one other woman in the
Leadership ranks she could feel some connection with.   Ashera, despite
representing the perspective of the Inner Colonies, was giving it to her
now.
	"I planned to speak with Eleazar and Melchior this evening," she
finally spoke.  "I'm going to make it clear that our goal is to present
either a unified front.....or else we stay right where we are and say
nothing until the three Inner Colonies can come up with something
unified.  Would you find that acceptable?"
	"I'm only speaking for myself as the acting leader of the Gemonese,
but it's acceptable to me," Ashera felt glad she was making some
headway.   "There is one other thing.     And I'm asking you to keep
this in the strictest confidence and not mention it to Eleazar or
Melchior yet."
	Sabina nodded for her to go ahead.
	"Before Anders was shot and put in a coma he was on the verge of
revealing some very important information he'd learned.     Information
that for someone as sensible as you are, Sabina, might make you
reconsider the need to undertake an assault in the near-term.     But
probably not with Eleazar.     If the information is something that
would make you reconsider the necessity of a short-term assault on your
part......would you also support a resolution to oppose Eleazar if he
felt otherwise."
	"That would depend on the nature of the information," Sabina said. 
"Can you tell me what that information is?"
	"I can tell you what it concerns, but I can't give you the details. 
 If Anders comes out of his coma, we can find out the details.    Until
then, it's probably best I don't tell you."
	"Then it's equally for the best that I not commit to that second
proposal of yours, Ashera," the Leonian Siress was firm.  "I will only
promise to break with Eleazar if he refuses to cooperate in a unified
effort with me and Melchior."
	"Fair enough," Ashera decided it would be futile to tell her that
Anders had discovered proof of Ila's mission being a success without
being able to give her more details.     Just as Sabina demanded a high
threshold of unified action before going ahead with an assault, she was
also going to demand a high threshold of details about Anders story.
	Assuming she ever got to hear the details of Anders' story.   
Right now, the only hope of that happening was if Dr. Alexion could
overcome his insecurity about doing a neuro-operation, and failing that,
she'd need to find some way to be able to talk directly to the now
unavailable Captain Neele and tell him he was their last hope of finding
out if help was really on the way.
	She knew there was no point in going back to the makeshift Life
Station since Alexion wouldn't have anything new to tell her at this
point.     It was better to find another important piece of business to
take care of.      And she realized that her confession to Deval and
Antony about her past meant there was a new loose end she needed to take
care of.
	Ashera adjusted the console and a centon later a new face appeared
though the connection was fuzzier and less distinct than the ones she
had just made to Skorpia and Leo.
	"Hello, Kalgan.     If Count Mikkos is available, I need to talk to
him."


PISCERA

	The instant his aide told him it was Ashera who wanted to talk to
him, there was a sensation of dread inside Mikkos.      For over two
yahrens, since he'd first learned she was the co-leader of the Gemonese
Resistance, they'd never spoken directly to each other.    But one time,
during a teleconference session with all the Leaders, they had caught
sight of each other, and he had seen the look on her face.    The
knowing look of the one person left alive who'd shared in what he'd gone
through.     It had left him wondering when the day would come for the
secret to come out in the open.    It was clear that the day was now.   

	As he walked down the narrow corridor to the communications room to
take the call, he found himself thinking back to all the words of the
Holy Book he'd crammed into his head these last four yahrens.    
Looking for ways to provide him with the mental comfort he needed to
overcome the guilt and shame he'd lived with since the Night of the
Destruction.     When the plans he'd carefully made with Sire Uri to
benefit from what was to come had backfired in a way he hadn't thought
possible.     He had thought he'd covered every possible base by not
tying himself directly to the treason scheme of his cousin.       As
close as he'd been to Baltar over the yahrens, he also knew that Baltar
was cursed with flaws that would make his downfall inevitable.  It was
all too easy to envision the Imperious Leader casting his cousin aside
when the time was right.      Sire Uri though, had suggested what Mikkos
saw as a more realistic plan for dealing with the Cylons in a
post-Destruction order.      Reduce the human population of the Colonies
to a level incapable of becoming a threat to the Empire again, and the
Cylons would find it easier to reward those who had made it possible.   
 That meant insuring the totality of Destruction was complete.    
Baltar had been willing to leave that element to chance.     Uri, with
his willing group of operatives like Charbydis and Ashera, dupes like
Siress Rosalind and a vital ally in Mikkos, would leave nothing to
chance.
	To this day there was no one Mikkos hated more than Uri.    
Especially since the first news from Dr. Ravashol and Vulpa about where
the Galactica had gone had also revealed the post-Destruction fate of
Uri.      That he'd survived the Destruction and escaped with most of
his wealth aboard the luxury cruiser Rising Star.     And he'd even
gained membership to a reconstituted Council of Twelve, which meant no
one had discovered the truth of his treachery. 
And that Uri had tried to propose a new deal with the Cylons in which
the surviving humans of the Galactica Fleet would throw down their arms
in return for a pledge to let them live in peace on the resort world of
Carillon as permanent guests of the Ovion population.    That had never
come off......only because Commander Adama had correctly deduced that
the people had been lured to the pleasures of Carillon in the hopes of
weakening them for a new attack that would destroy those who had fled
the Colonies seeking the Lost 13th tribe of humanity.     The end result
saw the Fleet escape the trap, destroying Carillon in the process, but
needlessly losing more lives in the process.      The last report
indicated that while Uri had been forced to resign from the Council in
disgrace, he was still living a comfortable life on the Rising Star and
clearly had not seen his past crime of treason catch up with him.
	May the Lords insure he rot in Hades for eternity for all he did,
Mikkos thought as he entered the room to answer Ashera's call.     But
as he settled himself into his chair, he found that the time he'd taken
to ponder the past had managed to clear his mind of the dread he'd first
felt.   He was now prepared to talk to his fellow collaborator from the
past and deal with the matter head on.
		

DEEP SPACE-GALACTICA SHUTTLE

	"I need to be in direct exposure to the sun.    It doesn't have to
be too close, but without direct exposure I can't maintain my strength
for a sustained period.."
	Dante looked at his instruments, "I can set her into a low-speed
heading that will make sure the sun's coming through the cockpit window
at all time.     Just to be on the safe side though, I'm going to don
some goggles."
	"I won't need them.   My eyes will be shut the whole time," Hunley
said.
	"If you'd been out in space in direct alignment with the sun when
Anders reached out to you, you wouldn't have gone through that
collapse?" he wanted to resolve that last lingering question of concern.
	"I wouldn't have come so perilously close to death," his wife
admitted.   "Maybe at worse, I would have gotten a little weak.     The
only reason I was able to hear Anders at all was because of our
pre-existing bond.    I don't have any such bond with this.....Captain
Neele, so that means if he's indoors somewhere on Skorpia right now, I'm
probably not going to get a true connection with him."
	"Meaning he might only hear the equivalent of static."
	"Yes.   But if that's the case, we'd have to hope he'll realize
someone is *trying* to connect with him, and he'll have to go outside
and expose himself to the sun of the Twelve Worlds to hear me clearly."
	"The way you describe the importance of exposure to the sun in how
this works, I finally understand why the Otori put so much emphasis on
the coming of the Sun Storm as the only time to permit physical
intimacy."
	Hunley smiled mirthlessly.   "Yes, the Otori saw a direct corollary
between the power of the sun and all things good and prosperous.      
Attempting the gift without the sun could prove risky and fatal as
you've seen.   Engaging in intimacy between Sun Storms was seen as
something that would lead to familial barrenness."
	"Though according to Starbuck, all those yahrens of extended
abstinence in theory should make Otoris the best Pyramid players because
it gives them more time to play the game," he quipped.
	"Typical Starbuck," the blonde warrior chuckled with mock disdain.
	Dante slowed down the shuttle's momentum and activated the
auto-pilot.    "Okay, I've got her on automatic now."
	"I'm ready," Hunley's tone grew serious as she felt the warmth of
the nearby sun's rays touching her face through the cockpit window.   
She waited for her husband to don the goggles.    And then she closed
her eyes and wrapped her arms about her midsection.    Immediately she
felt her sense of her surroundings disappearing as her mind reached out
again across the galaxy.
	Captain Neele......Captain Neele of Skorpia.     If you can hear
me, please reach out to me.    Please reach out to me.........

Chapter Eight

SKORPIA

	The "Bunker" that acted as home for the several hundred Skorpian
survivors was located in the remains of an old suburban industrial park
facility that once housed over a half-dozen important businesses on the
planet.    That included the business Neele had worked for, which
specialized in passenger hovermobiles.     And it was the reason why he
and  forty other people from his company had survived the Destruction
since they had been at the home office that night for a party to
celebrate the Armistice that never was.
	The fact that Neele had survived that night had been the reason why
he had returned to his upbringing as a member of the Otori sect on Gemon
and chosen to embrace it once again after yahrens of neglect.     He had
never formally renounced the Otori when he'd left Gemon, but he'd no
longer had the desire to live under Otori scrutiny.     Especially after
he'd found himself in his late teens a recipient of the 'intelligence
blast' that accompanied possession of what Otoris referred to as "the
Gift."    While he appreciated the fact that the "intelligence blast"
presented opportunities for advancement in his schooling and could also
be productive in pursuing a successful career, the concept of telepathic
communication was too terrifying for someone instinctively shy by nature
as he was.      Moving away from Gemon to a planet where there were few
Otori, and none who possessed the Gift allowed life to be simpler and
easier for Neele.     He'd settled into a comfortable life as bright
executive in the hovermobile industry, and he'd also joined the Colonial
Reserve Force, putting in four sectans of service every yahren.     He'd
known there was never any real possibility of being shipped out to an
actual combat situation on another planet outside the Twelve Worlds, and
that allowed him to enjoy the service for the fact it let him take part
in War Games exercises in which his mind could analyze the strategic and
tactical situations without ever worrying about actual physical harm to
himself.
	Until the night of the Destruction when everything had changed.    
 When the war had finally moved out of the realm of an intellectual
exercise into reality, and the life and career he'd channeled his
"intelligence blast" towards had gone up in ashes.      So great was the
guilt and regret in Neele's life that he found himself incapable of
thinking he could assume the leadership role of the survivors who'd
coalesced in the Industrial Park.     In the end, it was Eleazar, the
head of the factory machinists for one of the other companies in the
Industrial Park, who had taken charge.    He had leadership experience
as the representative of the labor force.    With the benefit of
hindsight, Neele couldn't fault Eleazar's leadership in the first
yahren, when the task had been organization and survival.      He knew
how to put things together and he knew how to mobilize people to work
with their hands and that had enabled them to salvage everything above
ground and use them to convert the service and loading tunnels, as well
as the basement storage areas into viable living space that would keep
the Cylons from finding them.     To further prevent Cylon detection,
Eleazar hit upon the solution of blowing up the intact above-ground
structures of the Industrial Park to make it seem like they had all been
devastated in the Cylon attack.    An overhead view would make the
Cylons discount this ruined complex as a likely place for survivors to
hide.
	It was in the second yahren, when the Skorpians realized the air
above had not been contaminated, and they also became aware of the
Resistance movement,  that Neele realized Eleazar's leadership wasn't
suited to the new order.    Eleazar had prided himself on his ability to
be the center of attention around whom everyone looked to.     Once the
Skorpians were networked into the communications system that enabled
them to talk to all the other planets, Eleazar realized he wasn't as
significant as leaders like Deval on Caprica and Anders on Gemon, who
had been able to accomplish a lot more.     He soon realized that among
Outer Colony leaders, he had to defer to the more polished, experienced
voices like Siress Sabina on Leo and Count Mikkos on Piscera.    
Whereas before, it was easy to admire and appreciate Eleazar, the last
two yahrens had seen the Skorpian leader change into someone Neele
disliked intensely.   Someone prone to show off his arrogance and engage
in cutting remarks, as though that were a way to compensate for the
language he found himself unable to use when conferring with the other
Resistance leaders.
	Neele had soldiered on in his capacity as Eleazar's deputy.   He
knew that as the one with the most military experience of any member of
the Colony, even if he'd just been a so-called "weekend warrior", it was
important for him to stay on the job and endure Eleazar.    But the
daily pressure of it was often too much for his fragile nature.     And
he found himself unable to confide his anxieties to anyone because of
the fear that they'd report what he'd say back to Eleazar.
	That was why one afternoon, more than a yahren ago, when he'd
ventured topside from the Bunker to make adjustments to the equipment
that controlled the ventilation system for the Colony, he'd found
himself reaching back into his Otori past and summoning the power of the
Gift.    Hoping that somewhere out there, whether elsewhere on Skorpia
or on one of the other planets there might be another Otori like
himself.   Isolated and lonely and unable to confide inner thoughts to. 
   And on that afternoon.....he had connected with an Otori woman on
Gemon who also had the gift.     A woman named Maricica.    A woman who
like him, had been searching for an Otori she could communicate thoughts
privately to.
	Over the past yahren, he'd come to know everything about Maricica. 
  About her survival with four others because they'd been petitioning
the Gemonese Justice Ministry that night.    The stories he heard from
her about life in the Gemonese colony confirmed everything he'd heard
Anders make in his reports in the Leadership meetings.    That made
Neele realize even more that Eleazar's biting comments about the
Gemonese and Capricans were baseless and revealed more about the
Skorpian leader's own sense of inadequacy.
	And he'd also heard Maricica talk about the stresses and
tribulations in her own life.     Of the family and friends she'd lost
in the Destruction, including the man she had been betrothed to, with a
planned sealing to take place at the next time of the Sun Storm.   Even
though that was six yahrens in the future, she'd been willing to respect
tradition by waiting.   And now that she had lost the man she'd loved,
she would wait until after the Sun Storm before ever contemplating the
thought of giving herself to another man.    
	That was when she'd revealed another source of stress to her.   
The unwanted advances of one of the three remaining Otori men, Athol.   
 She had talked of how Athol was a brilliant champion of traditional
Otori laws before the civil government.     But in non-professional
settings, she had confessed that he made her feel uneasy.     That his
devotion to traditional Otori ways filled him with a fanatical desire to
see the Otori line perpetuated and with only two other women known to be
alive, that meant Athol wanted to have a future wife selected for
himself.    He had chosen to focus on her instead of the other Otori
woman, Nupondi.
	Her descriptions of Athol had angered Neele.      He had asked her
if she'd ever thought of reporting his conduct to Anders, the Colony
leader and she had said she couldn't.    It would violate Otori
tradition to dishonor a fellow Otori in that fashion.    Especially when
Anders was an Otori who had renounced the sect.      She had confided
some of her concerns to Nupondi, and had even told her about her
communications with Neele, but in both cases she had sworn to Nupondi to
secrecy.
	Neele wished he could do more for the Gemonese Otori than just
listen to her.   He wished he could directly contact Anders and tell him
to come down on Athol and get him to stop harassing Maricica.    But
that would only cause more complications and so he had said nothing
about this contact with Maricica to anyone.   Letting himself take on
her burdens and hoping she could feel better that she'd been able to
express herself to him.    And in return, she'd been willing to listen
to some of his complaints about Eleazar and how lonely and isolated he
felt as a solitary Otori on Skorpia.   That relationship with Maricica,
a woman whose face he'd never seen, had sustained him for the past
yahren.    Which was why her failure to connect to him at the usual time
yesterday concerned him.     He could only hope it was due to her being
occupied with work.    If that was the case though, it would have to
mean she'd received a new designation of some kind since she'd
acknowledged her primary task was to wash clothes.
	Neele sighed as he closed the hatch that led to the Bunker behind
him and looked about.   Four yahrens ago, over eight buildings existed
on this site towering to heights as high as eight stories, like the
offices for the hovermobile company he worked for.    Now they were just
collapsed pieces of wreckage rising no more than ten feet high.   
Amidst the rubble were the carefully placed instruments that monitored
things outside the Bunker.    And also there was a row of hover-cycles
that were used to conduct scouting missions.      He walked over and
detached one from the rack and started it up.    He would ride the cycle
to within two kilometers of the Smyrna power station and then cover the
rest on foot.    All so he could arrive by nightfall and have the cover
of darkness to scout the place at ground level in preparation for an
assault that he knew was just days away.     By now he knew that Eleazar
wasn't going to wait for Sabina and Melchior to be ready with targets of
their own.     He was going to act.    And Eleazar knew that Neele's
background as an Otori meant he wasn't going to lie about anything he
saw.
	If only I weren't so damned noble, he thought as he started the
hover-cycle and began to ride off.   First through the smashed gate that
had once marked the entrance to the Industrial Park.  Then down the
overgrown roadway that led to the nearby suburban community of Lebedos. 
  The streets took him first through the shopping district, which had
been looted of supplies during that hectic period in the days following
the Destruction so the Bunker would have the essential things needed to
survive.     Now, the looted buildings stood empty and decaying as
ghostly wrecks.     From the shopping district he reached the
residential zone where his own house had been, along with the other
upscale residents of the business executives who enjoyed the nearby
proximity to the Industrial Park.      Neele didn't even bother to
glance at what remained of his house as he rode past it.
	A centon later, he had put Lebedos behind him.    The old highway
that would have taken him directly to Smyrna was nearby but he knew he
had to take the winding back roads that had some camouflage from
surrounding trees whereas the highway was out in the open and his lone
hovercycle would be an easy thing to spot from the air by a passing
Raider.     He would follow the back roads until he reached the critical
two kilometer point and then.....he would walk and carefully time things
so that he didn't reach the power station until it was night.
	As he rode, he knew the best thing he could do was to flush his
mind of all the things that were bothering him.    Maricica's silence.  
 Eleazar's arrogant recklessness.    The danger to the Resistance if an
assault on Smyrna resulted in the deaths of Enlightened Cylons only.   
All of that.....he refused to think about until he had finished the job
he was supposed to do.    It was time to keep his mind clear so he could
fill it with all the facts he would obediently, and accurately report
later.
	It was because his mind was relaxed and uncluttered that he then
heard inside his head with crystal clarity a totally unfamiliar feminine
voice calling his name.
	Captain Neele.......Captain Neele of Skorpia.
	So startled was Neele that he lost control of his hovercycle and
felt it skidding across the road surface.    He let go of the hand
controls and felt himself rolling across the surface, banging his legs
several times.    He managed to come to a stop in a mostly unscathed
condition.    The same couldn't be said of the hovercycle.    Devoid of
anyone at the controls it suddenly did a perfect flip and crashed back
to the ground where it then bounced several more times before coming to
a stop. 
	What in the name of Kobol......he thought as he got to his feet and
brushed the dust off his legs.    The snug thickness of his black
commando suit had offered more protection for his body than regular
clothing would have.    And he knew he'd been lucky he'd been wearing a
commando helmet, even though his head hadn't struck the ground.
	Captain Neele of Skorpia.......If you can hear me please reach out
to me.    Please reach out to me.........
	Stunned, Neele realized he hadn't imagined it.     Someone from
somewhere was trying to make contact with him via the Gift.    Someone
he'd never met since the voice was unfamiliar to him.    For a micron he
wondered if it was Maricica's friend Nupondi, but then he remembered
that Maricica had told him Nupondi didn't have the Gift.  That she was
the only one among the Gemonese Otori who had it.  
	But if it's not from there, then who......and he stopped when he
realized that instead of asking questions to himself, he should be
asking them to the person trying to contact him.   Immediately, he moved
to the center of the road so he could feel the waning afternoon sun
against his body.    He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms about
himself......and let his mind reach out to the source.
	Who are you?    How do you know of me?
	My name is Hunley.    I am the cousin of Anders, leader of the
Gemonese Resistance faction.     He and I were born Otori, and we have
bonded to each other in the past through the Gift.     We still use the
Gift even though we are no longer faithful followers of the sect.    I
must have your assurance that you do not consider it sacrilege to
communicate with one who is considered an Infidel in Otori tradition.
	I.....am more interested in knowing why you have contacted me and
how you knew of me. No one but Maricica and her friend Nupondi know that
I have the Gift.
	I know of your name from Anders.    I can not explain how he knew
you had the Gift because he did not explain that in detail to me.     He
only knew that I could contact you so that I might give you information
to relay to the Resistance that he is not able to at this time.
	Why not?
	Anders is in a coma.    He was shot by an Otori fanatic for using
the Gift without being an active follower.    When he was shot, he had
received information from me that he had not yet been able to convey to
the rest of the Resistance.    So long as he remains in a coma, then
*you*, Captain Neele, must be the instrument that delivers this
information.
	What information?     If you are not on Gemon, then why can't you
reveal it to the leader of your own Resistance movement?     Or.....are
you somewhere in total isolation?
	Captain Neele......open your mind further.     Realize that our
minds are connecting across a distance greater than anything two Otori
have ever experienced.    I am not in the Colonies, I am with the
Galactica and her Fleet.   And I am reporting to you that Professor
Ila's mission is a success and that help is on the way to you. 
	The last few yahrens reimmersing himself in the ways of the Otori
and the yahren he'd spent using the Gift with Maricica enabled Neele to
keep his composure and his concentration intact.     He allowed himself
just five microns to expand the horizon of his mind to its fullest
capacity.    And then......
	I......believe you, Hunley.    For no one who has the power of the
Gift would ever use it to engage in a cruel deception.    Not even one
who claims to no longer be an Otori.     I will listen to every word you
can tell me......and I will relay it to those who must know.
	The Lords of Kobol bless you, Captain Neele.    I have much to tell
you.


DEEP SPACE-GALACTICA SHUTTLE

	One look at Hunley's face, even through his goggles, was enough to
convince Dante that his wife had successfully made contact with the
mysterious Captain Neele of Skorpia.    There was a look of intense
concentration in her face yet with none of the pain and trauma he'd
witnessed earlier in the Constellation Life Station.      She was
undoubtedly conversing with him now and telling him everything.    About
Professor Ila being rescued by the Pegasus.    About the Pegasus
returning to the Colonies to help while the Galactica continued to
Earth.   About the ability of the Galactica and the Pegasus to
communicate with each other.   And many other things that he knew Hunley
had yet to share with him but which would make the others in the
Resistance know this was a genuine message they had to believe.
	The best thing he knew he could do was to stay silent and let
nothing to disrupt her concentration.     Which was why the next thing
he did was to turn off the shuttle's communication system and not let
any messages from the Galactica interfere with what was going on.


SKORPIA

	That is everything.     It is important that *everything* I have
said is repeated to the others.    Especially the personal things that
Commander Deval and Colonel Antony of Caprica will understand
immediately.    There is no question they will believe you.
	I will not forget anything.   I.....realize the significance of
what you are telling me, Hunley.    And.....I swear they will learn
everything.
	I must return now to the Galactica.    If Anders recovers, he will
contact me.    But if he does not recover......then you and I must
communicate again, because you will be the only one capable of receiving
further messages that we can send you.....or relay to you from the
Pegasus about their progress.
	I pray the Lords will allow him to recover.    But.....if you are
telling me that I am the only one capable of receiving further
messages.......then does that mean that Maricica is dead?
	For just a few microns there was silence before Hunley's voice came
through again.
	I honestly do not know the specifics regarding your friend
Maricica.     I must assume she is dead, or else Anders would have told
me to attempt contact with her.    If this is so, I am deeply sorry for
your loss.    But you must not let your mourning for her interfere with
what you must do now for the entire Resistance.     She would not want
that if you have indeed been a good friend to her.
	I will remember my responsibility to the Resistance......and I will
reserve my mourning for Maricica in a way appropriate to Otori
tradition.    In private.     Thank you, Hunley.     May the Lords bless
you and all on the Galactica as you continue the journey to Earth.
	The Lords bless you in your effort to free the Colonies.   
Goodbye, Captain Neele.
	Neele slowly disengaged himself from the contact.    The process
took over five centons before he opened his eyes.     Around him he
could see that late afternoon was more pronounced and that soon, there
would be no more sun in the sky.
	With steely-eyed determination, he turned around and began the long
eight kilometrone walk back to the Industrial Park.


DEEP SPACE-GALACTICA SHUTTLE
	Dante watched Hunley slowly loosen her arms from around her
mid-section.    She began taking a series of deep breaths that lasted
several centons until finally, her eyes opened and she came forward in
her chair.
	"I was successful," she said simply.    And then, she broke into a
smile.  "I was successful."
	"The Lords are with you," her husband was in a state of awe.    It
had been one thing to hear Hunley describe what it had been like when
she'd made contact with Anders.    To actually witness her going through
the process was the most profound thing he'd ever seen in his life.
	"Let's head for home."
	"Yes, let's," Dante removed his goggles and deactivated the
auto-pilot as he took back control of the shuttle and turned her back on
a heading for the Galactica.    On impulse, he also reactivated the
communications line. 
	Immediately, the angry voice of Colonel Tigh filled the shuttle
interior.
	"Galactica Core Command to Delta Shuttle, if you don't acknowledge
our transmission, then we're going to send a Squadron out to have you
dragged back in with a tractor beam!"
	The two of them tried not to laugh as Dante keyed the reply button,
"Core Command, this is Delta Shuttle.    You won't have to bother,
Colonel, we're headed back.     Lieutenant Hunley and I will report to
Commander Adama as soon as we're aboard.     And believe me, Colonel,
when he hears what we have to say, he is *not* going to go crazy!"


CAPRICA

	"What's the latest on Anders' condition?" Deval asked as he stared
at Ashera's face on the monitor.    Antony was standing directly behind
him so he was in view of the camera.
	"Dr. Alexion will begin the neuro-operation on the hematoma in the
next centar.    I don't know how long the procedure will last, but I
imagine he's going to take his time because he's never done something
like this before.     Either way, we'll know by morning."
	"And what about this alternative you were mentioning if Anders
doesn't recover?"
	Ashera hesitated as she noticed Antony's presence behind Deval.  
"Deval, I thought-,"
	"I've briefed Colonel Antony on everything because I need his
input.      And when I say everything, I mean *everything* you told me
earlier, Ashera."
	"I see," she said simply.   "Well, I guess it really doesn't make
any difference then.   You may as well know that I've spoken to Count
Mikkos, because I had to tell him I might be forced to reveal my secret
to the other Leaders.     I assured him I wouldn't bring up his name,
but.....he said he wasn't going to let me be alone in confessing things. 
   If I have to confess my sins to get the others to believe me about
Anders, he's going to confess his own sins too."
	"I appreciate your telling me that, Ashera," Deval said.   "And you
can tell Mikkos that I hold nothing against him, just as I hold nothing
against you.    Nor does Colonel Antony."
	"That's true, Ashera," Antony spoke up, "I understand what you've
been going through because......I've been going through the same thing
myself these last few yahrens."
	Her eyes widened in surprise, "You what?"
	"That's why the Colonel is here, Ashera," Deval said.  "Because
you're entitled to hear what he just told me after I briefed him and you
have my permission to tell Mikkos about it as well.    But not until we
finish these other matters.    What about this alternative you were
talking about if Anders doesn't recover?"
	"Well.....there is someone on Skorpia that this Otori woman
Maricica was talking to named Captain Neele who has the same power of
telepathy.   If I can get hold of him, then maybe he can connect to
Anders' cousin and find out what he learned.    But Eleazar says he's
not available."
	"Great," Deval grunted, "Knowing how Eleazar's been acting of late,
I don't think he's going to be particularly cooperative."
	"I've sensed that too.    And that's why I've come up with a way to
have him isolated," she then spent the next few centons recounting her
conversation with Siress Sabina.     When she was done, Deval was
nodding his head in approval.
	"That was good thinking, Ashera.     If we can drive a wedge
between Sabina and Eleazar, then Melchior will be more likely to side
with her.    That would leave Eleazar all by himself."
	"Of course that might send Eleazar over the edge, if he's that much
of an egotist," Antony chimed in.  
	"Maybe," Ashera acknowledged. "Of course if Anders recovers and we
can get this information sooner than later, it might stop Eleazar in his
tracks completely."
	"And don't forget the other thing that can change the dynamic,"
Deval pointed out.  "Valan might still be able to come through with the
intelligence we need.     If we can give Sabina, Melchior and Eleazar
some targets that would offer zero complications if the Outer Colonies
decided to act, then that would solve our problem regardless of whether
we get Anders' information or not."
	"You're right about that, Deval.   But if that happens, it's still
not going to change the fact that we have to tell them what we already
know about Ila's mission succeeding and that help is on the way.    So
that's why Mikkos and  I are still prepared to reveal everything about
ourselves if we have to."
	"I understand, Ashera.     And because of that, I'm going to let
the Colonel tell you what he told me a centar ago.  I think it'll make
you and Mikkos feel easier about the burdens you've had to carry. 
Because if you do have to reveal your dark secrets to the other Leaders,
then Antony is going to tell them his story too," he then motioned
behind him, "Go ahead, Colonel."
	Antony stepped closer to the camera so he was now right in back of
Deval's chair.
	"My secret concerns something different, Ashera.   I didn't
collaborate with the Cylons.   But I was involved in something before
the Destruction that if it had been found out would have gotten me a
general Court-Martial and expulsion from the Service at bare minimum,
and conceivably a charge of treason and attempted murder as well.    It
concerns my actions done on behalf of a certain Commander Maris, who was
director of the Colonial Special Forces.    And who abused his position
to try and create a team of so-called "Super Warriors" by having them
injected with chemicals and drugged up into total zombons that would
make them indistinguishable from Cylons as we used to see them.    He
wanted them at the ready in case they might be needed if the Peace Talks
turned out to be a fraud.   Then he would have been able to overthrow
Adar and the Council and seize power for himself.    What he didn't bank
on was how extensive the attack would be since he was never able to
utilize those forces in light of how events unfolded."
	Ashera shook her head in amazement, "Good Lords of Kobol, I
remember there were rumors about that.     One of my colleagues at FIU
was investigating Maris and Special Forces but he got killed in some
kind of accident before he could finish his report."
	Antony let out a sad sigh, "You've just touched on the nature of
what my connection to this whole sorry thing was.   I had no connection
to Special Forces.   My job was to use my position as director of Staff
Operations at District Headquarters in Caprica City to provide Maris
with people who could act as programmed assassins.    Assassins who
could plug any potential security leaks who might blow the whistle on
the existence of the "Super Warriors"     If someone was about to be
given a new assignment and needed to come through District Headquarters
to get their transfer orders approved, then my job was to get them
detained long enough in my office so Maris's chief Caprican brainwasher,
a piece of bilge-scum named Dr. Excerebro could then go to work and turn
them into a sleeper agent.    Someone who could dispose of a security
leak efficiently once they received a coded instruction to act.    Once
they were brainwashed, I gave the names of the assassins and their code
words to a certain Major Keitel, who was two steps removed from Maris in
the Special Forces chain of command.     That way, the information about
where these assassins came from and how they'd been brainwashed stayed
out of Maris's office.     If an assassin had to act, then neither
Maris, nor his immediate deputy Colonel Alesis could be tied to the
circumstances of how the assassin was working in the same location as
their target."
  	"With all those layers of safeguards Maris had, I can see why my
colleague wasn't able to crack the case before he was killed," Ashera
looked him in the eye, "His name was Nosenko.    Does that ring any
bells with you?"
	"Yes," Antony said with deep regret.  "I never knew you were
connected to him, because until today I never knew you'd been in the
FIU.    I was responsible for programming the man who killed him.     He
was a Colonial Security Guard transferred off the Rycon, which was being
decommissioned at the time, and reassigned to Guard duty at FIU
Headquarters where Nosenko worked.    The programming wasn't specific on
how to kill him.    Only that if he ever received the coded word
instruction, he was to take the necessary steps to kill Nosenko."
	"Nosenko was killed in a head-on hovermobile crash while he was
driving home late at night," the memory came back to Ashera.  "The other
driver was burned to a crisp and never identified because his vehicle
was too damaged to trace.    That had to be a really effective job of
brainwashing to get him to commit suicide as part of his assignment"
	"I don't think every assassin was instructed to commit suicide in
the process, but that wasn't my responsibility.      I just furnished
the names and made sure they were in position to take out their targets. 
   Not that it lets me off the hook any,"
	"Antony," Ashera interrupted, "You have one person's death on your
conscience.    That's a drop in the bucket compared to what I've had to
live with for collaborating with the Cylons.    But....thank you for
your candor.    I appreciate the reason why you're telling me this."
	"There's more, Ashera," Antony went on, his voice growing rueful,
"If it's true that Ila's mission was a success, then.....I may be
responsible for a tragedy greater than anything else she ever went
through.     You see......I worked alongside her for nearly three
yahrens and all that time she never knew that I'd recruited someone who
was then programmed to kill her daughter."

 
SKORPIA

	Darkness had fallen by the time Neele reached the residential area
of Lebedos.    The lack of moonlight hindered visibility but this was a
community Neele had known well for yahrens, and he knew he could walk
the remaining four kilometrones to the Industrial Park blindfolded.
	The long walk back was giving him plenty of time to think.     Not
just about the magnitude of all that he'd heard from Lieutenant Hunley
of the Galactica, but about how he was going to present this information
to the Resistance.    He knew he was going to run into an obstacle with
Eleazar the instant he returned.      He'd be denounced for not
following through on his mission to scout the Smyrna power station.    
And given Eleazar's ignorance of how some Otori were blessed with the
gift of telepathic communication, he knew the roughneck Skorpian was
likely to call him crazy and have him locked up.
	But even if he believed me, he might have me locked up to keep me
from talking to anyone else.    This news would force him to put his
plans for an assault on Smyrna on hold.     The people who say they're
restless over lack of action would treat news like this as far more
important than attacking a power station.     This is news that tells
them the tide is turning against the whole Cylon Empire!      They've
lost control of Gomorrah and Cannes which means Arcta is the only
garrison they *think* they're still in charge of in the whole Alpha
Quadrant!
	And Hunley's information had also revealed a good deal about how
extensive the phenomenon of "Enlightenment" really was in the Cylon
ranks.      Which only proved how dangerously wrong-headed it was for
Eleazar or anyone else to think that it didn't mater if Enlightened
Cylons were the casualties of an assault on Smyrna.
	And if he's wrong about that......then the man has no business
being a Resistance leader when it comes to the bigger issues of
coordination and cooperation with the other Colonies, and plotting
military strategy.
	He was willing to concede that Eleazar still had his strengths, but
only when it came to the matters of keeping the Colony functioning.    
Eleazar knew how to make people work to keep the power running, the air
flowing and insuring that everyone had food to eat.   For those things
he could still be the proverbial big fish in the pond.      When it came
to the matters that dictated if the people would one day be living
outside the Bunker again in a liberated Skorpia.....that was where
Eleazar was clearly in over his head.
	And he knew it was up to him.......to use the responsibility just
given to him by Hunley as the impetus to get Eleazar out of power.
	As he kept walking, the quiet of the night was broken by a sound
from above that he immediately recognized as a Cylon fighter.    He
looked up and could make out its blinking lights as it moved on a course
far to the north, toward a part of the planet that had remained
unexplored by the Skorpian survivors all this time.
	Friend or foe?  He mused as he heard its sound fade away and its
lights disappear.   It really does make a difference.   That's why
Eleazar has to go.


CAPRICA

	Ashera listened to Antony finish his account of recruiting a
transfer to the Galactica named Rigel as the one who would be programmed
to potentially kill Ila's daughter Lieutenant Athena, and the Galactica
warrior Lieutenant Starbuck.      The reason why Athena and Starbuck had
been targeted as potential dangers had to do with their accidental
exposure to Maris's "Super Warrior" operation.     Steps had been taken
to erase their memories of what they'd seen, but Maris had insisted on
having an assassin programmed in the event either of them showed signs
of remembering what they'd witnessed.
	"Maris knew it was dangerous to target Commander Adama's daughter. 
  That's why he wanted to see if just knocking them out and having their
memories wiped would do the trick.    He only wanted an assassin ready
to target them as a backup."
	"And you're worried that this.....Rigel may have carried out her
orders at some point after the Galactica set off to look for Earth?"
	Antony sighed.   "Even if Rigel hasn't been activated, the danger
is that her programming is still intact.    It could easily be triggered
by an accidental invoking of the code.    Hades, for all I know, Maris
himself could still be alive among the survivors and be in position to
activate her. The bottom line is that.....Ila may have succeeded only to
find out that her daughter is dead because of something I did."
	"I'm beginning to understand why you were the loudest voice
objecting to Ila going on the mission to find the Galactica."
	"Yeah.   I.....tried to dissuade Ila by coming on to her and
telling her I was in love with her, and that she shouldn't go because of
what we'd shared working together in the Resistance.   And in a
way......I did come to love her for her brilliance and resourcefulness,
but......my motives were purely self-centered.    I was afraid of the
possibility of her finding out something terrible I was responsible for. 
   If Ila didn't go.......then I'd at least guarantee there was no
chance of her ever finding out that I put her daughter's life in
jeopardy."
	He then looked at her straight-on again.   "But now that I've told
you and the Commander all this, I want you to know that if you and
Mikkos have to reveal your secrets at the next Leadership meeting to
make the others believe Ila made it, then I'm going to do the same
thing.    It's probably long overdue for all of us with dark secrets to
get them out into the open, because Kobol knows.....none of it really
matters any longer in terms of the bigger picture."
	"That's true," the redhead nodded.  "Again......I appreciate what
you've said, Colonel.   And Commander......regardless of what happens
with Anders.......I'm ready to step to the forefront if I have to."
	"I know you can do it, Ashera," Deval said.   "Let me know when you
have news on the surgery or if you're able to connect with Captain
Neele."
	"I will."

LEO

	Sabina felt some tension inside her as she prepared for the
conference chat with Melchior and Eleazar.     Her talk with Ashera made
her realize that things were no longer as simple as they'd seemed a day
ago when the only thing that mattered was putting together a collective
plan of action for the Outer Colonies.    Now, it was up to her to grab
the proverbial male bovinus by the horns and head off a potentially more
serious matter.
	She activated the switch and saw the Skorpian leader was already
there.    Five microns passed before the other monitor came on to show
that Melchior had joined them.    The Sagittarian leader had the
disheveled look that reminded her of University students trying to cram
for an exam up to the last micron, and who were totally unsure of how
they'd do.
	"Good evening, Melchior, Eleazar," the Leonian siress began.  "As
we agreed previously, we said we'd have this meeting to see how things
stand in our respective plannings."
	"Siress Sabina," Melchior spoke up.   "We're.....not settled on a
final target.    There's some disagreement among our Executive
Leadership on where to move."
	"You said yesterday that you'd narrowed it down to promising
targets long ago, Melchior," Eleazar interjected harshly.
	"Yes, it was easy to narrow things down to a group of four, but the
problem is......we're divided on the question of which of those final
four target is the best one to move on.     Some are arguing for the
Main Command Center in our former Capitol.     Others think we should
concentrate on an aerodrome facility that's over forty kilometrones
away, and we have a third faction that thinks the closest target to our
Colony is the one we should move on.      We've been at an impasse all
afternoon on the subject."
	"Then it should be up to you to cast the deciding vote, Melchior,"
the Skorpian leader's irritation increased.    "Which plan do *you*
think is best?    That should carry the day and allow things to move
forward."
	Sabina watched the exchange in silence.   This development was
playing perfectly into her hands.   She thanked the Lords that Melchior
was not by instinct the kind of leader who wanted to boldly stand out.  
 He was much more at ease hitching his wagon to someone else.      If
the people he relied on for advice couldn't agree among themselves, it
wasn't going to be his nature to assume the responsibility for breaking
the deadlock.
	"I'm.....sorry, Eleazar," Melchior shook his head, "One day isn't
enough to make this kind of decision.    The Sagittarian Executive
Leadership feels that so long as they come to an agreement within 24
centars of the next Resistance Leadership conference, that will be
sufficient time.     The point is to have a unified plan of action in
place to present to the Inner Colonies."
	"And in the meantime, while *I've* seen to it that Skorpia has a
viable target already in place to launch an attack on, we lose precious
time and my people get more on edge!" Eleazar's hostility increased.  
"This is unacceptable!"
	"No it isn't," Sabina leaned forward and cut in.    Her tone
forceful but low-key, as befitting the yahrens of her political
experience.   "We all plunged into this on short notice, Eleazar.    
We're facing the same dilemma here.    We have three promising targets,
but my advisors are in disagreement over which one is more likely to
have Loyal Centurions."   
	"And *that*, Sabina, isn't a detail you should be haggling over!"
	"We're the colony that fracked things up two yahrens ago when we
killed over fifty Cylons who wanted to fight on our side!" the Siress
raised her voice, deciding now was the time to do it.    "So you should
understand why we're not anxious to repeat that mistake.    That's why
if we're going to go into an operation flying blind from an intelligence
standpoint, we're going to be as careful as we can be in terms of which
target we choose.     If we do it that way, then if we make the same
mistake again, we can shift the blame to Commander Valan and all of
Deval's allies for their inability to get us what we need.     And in
the end, our overall position is stronger.  *That's* what I want to see
happen, Eleazar.    I don't want to see a rogue strike made by one
Colony prematurely."
	"And if I decide that the interests of my people should come
first?" the Skorpian retorted.
	"Are they really the interests of your people, Eleazar?" an edge of
contempt entered her voice.   "Or is it just your own ego and need for
personal glory?"
	Before Eleazar could respond, there was a noise from behind him as
if a door had slid open.    Over the monitor, Sabina could hear the
pounding of footsteps in a fast run and then.....she saw an
out-of-breath man in a commando uniform enter the frame.     Eleazar's
expression was one of total annoyance.
	"Captain Neele, what is the meaning of this?"
	"I have returned with vital information that *everyone* needs to
hear!" he promptly stepped in front of Eleazar and jammed his face as
close as he could to the camera.   "Siress Sabina, Melchior.....we must
*not* make any attack in the near-term.     I repeat, we must *not* make
any attack in the near-term!"
	"Get out of here!" Eleazar bolted up from his chair and tried to
shove him out of the way.  "You have no right to barge in her and make
these statements without reporting to me first, Captain!    And if
you're back this early, it's clear you didn't carry out my orders to
fully inspect the Power Station at ground level!"
	"You're right, I didn't!" he tried to catch his breath,   "Because
what I learned makes the importance of the power station or any of the
targets being considered on the other planets irrelevant for now."
	"Captain, I'm going to have you placed under arrest!"
	"We'll discuss that later.....*sir*!"
	He took a swing at the Skorpian leader.   Sabina and Melchior
watched in stunned disbelief as the two fell out of camera view.   They
could hear the sounds of punches being thrown and chairs being
overturned.     Finally after thirty microns they heard a gasp and
then....slowly Neele re-entered the picture.     He got to his feet and
turned a chair right-side up so he could collapse into it.
	"Okay," he exhaled.   "Now that he can't say anything for a few
centars at least, that means I can tell the two of you *everything* that
just happened to me."


GEMON

	Ashera had gone to the detention area where Athol remained under
heavy guard.     The Otori was seated on the floor in a posture that
indicated he'd been praying.     His expression made it clear it hadn't
been a prayer of supplication.
	"If you're done praying, then get up," the former intelligence
analyst said coldly.   "I want to talk to you."
	Athol didn't move at first, but then after a few microns he slowly
got to his feet.   His expression unchanged.
	"I'm told your friend Jelada explained the true facts regarding who
Maricica was talking to," her voice dripped with contempt.   "It wasn't
Anders.    Maricica never dishonored the Otori codes because she was
communicating with an Otori on Skorpia who hasn't left the sect."
	"Maricica should have told me that," there was only the tiniest
edge of bitterness in his voice.    A bitterness that he'd used all of
his energy to push back down.   "I would have understood."
	"I don't think you would have," she didn't let up.   "Not the way
you wanted her.    The idea of her seeking counsel and support from a
total stranger she'd never met instead of you.....I'm sure that would
have bruised your ego tremendously.      But at any rate, it doesn't
change the fact that if anyone's responsible for her death, it's you,
Athol."
	"I never touched her!"
	"That only makes it accidental manslaughter instead of murder.   
But that's not relevant.  Even if you'd never frightened her into
tripping over the baskets and causing her to fall and crush her skull,
there'd still be the matter of what you did to Anders."
	"I have no regrets for that," his voice grew defiant.   "Bad enough
that he committed heresy by using the Gift.    I am told that he used it
with one even worse than him.    His infidel cousin Hunley!"
	"Oh, I see.    The fact  he actually made contact with the
Galactica doesn't matter to you.   Only that he made contact with
someone you regard as a worse Infidel to Otori tradition than him."
	"Hunley disgraced the Otori and her entire family!" he raised his
voice.  "I knew her grandfather, the Mukar.    She was the biggest
disappointment of his life.     She is not worthy of living any more
than Anders."
	Ashera shook her head in disgust and decided there was nothing
further to be gained in talking to the fanatic.    After nearly four
yahrens of people understanding the meaning of working for the greater
good, Athol had brought back into focus the dark side of humanity that
contributed to the Destruction.
	But I can't be too judgmental.    I'm the ultimate poster girl for
humanity's dark side with what I did.     And Antony's little sin isn't
much different from Athol's in the clinical sense.
	The only true difference she realized, was that she and Antony and
Count Mikkos as well, had learned the meaning of the term repentance.   
And how true repentance required a new spirit and attitude in life so
that the sins of the past no longer mattered.
	"What'll happen to him?" Sergeant Cutter asked as they walked down
the corridor toward the Life Station area.
	"That depends on whether Anders lives or dies," she said.   "And
hopefully we'll know the answer to that soon."
	The instant she finished her sentence, the door to the Life Station
slid open and a weary Dr. Alexion emerged.   His once crisp white
operating garment was now stained heavily with sweat and other bodily
fluids.  He pulled his damp surgical cap from his head, using it to wipe
his brow, as he stretched out his back.    Looking up, he saw Ashera and
Cutter standing with anxious expressions. 
	"He survived the operation," Alexion said.   "A minor miracle in
itself, since I didn't have a proper drill to make the burr hole in his
skull."
	 "Is he going to be okay?" Ashera asked insistently.
	 "As I said before, brains are tricky.  The hematoma is drained and
I've left a small tube temporarily in his dura to keep it that way.  But
there's a lot that could still go wrong.  Having said that, I'm
cautiously optimistic that he'll recover  We'll know a lot more when he
wakes up."
	"And when will that be?"
	"I'm a doctor, not a soothsayer."
	"Noted," she tried to avoid sounding sarcastic.
	"Ashera, Ashera!" an urgent voice from behind sounded.    She
turned around and saw a Com-Tech dashing towards them.
	"Yes?"
	"An important message for you from Skorpia.    Someone called
Captain Neele."
	She abruptly turned away from Alexion and immediately ran back in
the other direction.


THE GALACTICA

	"Once Anders explained everything, I knew I had to act quickly,"
Hunley said as she stood in front of Adama.    "Dante realized it would
be quicker to take me out in a shuttle straight from the Constellation
instead of taking me back to the Galactica and having me go out in my
viper for a third time."
	"Especially when the risk factor to Hunley was greater," Dante
chimed in.   But Adama raised his hand, indicating that he wanted his
wife to finish uninterrupted.
	"I was successful in establishing contact with Captain Neele on
Skorpia.    I repeated everything I'd told Anders before.      Including
those extra details things you wanted me to add.  He understood the
situation completely."
	"Can you be sure that he's been successful in telling the others,
and hasn't met with an accident like Anders did?" Adama asked.
	"I think for now, sir, the lack of another episode like I had on
the Constellation is proof enough that nothing untoward has happened to
Captain Neele," Hunley said.   "If something did, then I know Anders
would have reached out to me from his comatose state again."
	"Meaning.......in his comatose state he has the ability
to.......know what else is happening?"
	"So it would seem, Commander.    Anders said that until he was
shot, he'd never even heard of Captain Neele.    It was information he
learned.....because of where he was."
	A slow dawning came over Adama as he nodded.    But he decided not
to pursue that point any further.
	"Unofficially, I applaud you and Dante for your initiative.   
Officially......I'm going to have to make note of the fact that your
shuttle jaunt without a flight plan violated regulations.    As far as
discipline is concerned, none applied to you Hunley, since you weren't
flying.   I'm going to simply recommend you take furlon wherever you
please for the next twenty-four centars since you've been through a lot
these last two cycles.     Captain Dante, since you were the pilot and
thus bear responsibility for this breech of regulations, I impose a
sentence of......" he suddenly broke into a smile, "Confinement to
quarters aboard the Constellation for the next twenty-four centars."
	The two of them suddenly broke into knowing smiles.
	"Thank you, sir!" 


CAPRICA-TWO CENTARS LATER

	"You haven't left anything out, Captain?" Deval was still trying to
come to terms with everything he'd just heard.
	"Not a thing, Commander Deval," Neele said, "Except.....one
personal message for Colonel Antony.    Commander Adama says that all
matters pertaining to the late Commander Maris have been dealt with,
with no further loss of life."
	The instant he heard those words, Antony, who had kept himself
discreetly out of camera range, felt like dropping to his knees in
thankful prayer.     To hear this meant his mind could focus entirely on
the good news this meant for the Resistance.
	"Thank you, Captain.   Colonel Antony I think knows what that
means," he leaned back in his chair.    "Now that we've heard all
this.......we're going to have to ask you to repeat it again for the
benefit of five remaining Colonies that haven't heard the news yet."
	"Sir, I've taken the liberty of recording this conversation for the
benefit of Skorpia's Executive Leadership because I intend to use it to
make sure Eleazar is stripped of his authority to handle matters of
military security and Resistance Coordination matters.      He can still
handle our own internal affairs that help keep us running, but these
events have proved he isn't cut out to be a military leader or a
diplomat."
	"And it's probably for the best that we've found that out and can
have him replaced before things became dangerous," Deval nodded.   "All
right, we'll have this played back for the other five Resistance leaders
who aren't here.    Cancera, Taurus, Aeries, Virgon and......Count
Mikkos on Piscera.     And then when the ten of us confer as a whole in
five cycles......we can analyze things more clearly."
	"Should we wait that long?" Sabina asked.
	"There's one factor that dictates, it Siress Sabina," Deval said.  
"I don't mean to overload matters further, but.....before all this
happened, Colonel Antony did have our meeting with Commander Valan.   
If you're willing to hear more news, this is what he told me."
	Deval kept his summary as concise as he could so it lasted no more
than five centons.
	"Let's put aside the issue of whether Commander Vulpa is going to
be replaced by Valan for now and-----,"
	"Just a centon, Commander," Neele cut in.   "We can't put that
aside.   According to the Galactica, the Pegasus plans on stopping at
Arcta.   If they're going to face a change in leadership that could
undermine things there, they have to know about it."
	"That's something you're going to have to communicate to Hunley in
the next cycle or two if Anders doesn't come out of it," Deval said as
he quickly glanced at Ashera's image on the other monitor.    The
Gemonese woman's excitement that Neele had been able to relay everything
Anders would have told them was still tempered by the fact that there'd
been no further word on whether Anders was going to come round, now that
the surgery was over.
	"I think even if Anders does come out of it, I'd still like to
maintain contact with Hunley if possible.   I could always be there as
an effective backup," Neele said.
	"That's something I'm sure you'll be able to work out with Anders,"
Deval said, wanting to sound optimistic for Ashera's benefit, "But what
I want to discuss first is the fact that Valan promised an answer on
Outer Colony intelligence in five cycles time from our last meeting.   
That means in four cycles we'll know and then we can react to that as
well as the totality of what we've learned from the Galactica."
	"I'm going to have to recommend we have the full Leadership meeting
the day *before* you see Valan again," Sabina said firmly.   "Because
the one thing we have to decide before the meeting is whether or not the
news the Pegasus is on the way and has already removed Gomorrah and
Cannes from the equation, is something we can tell Valan or *any* Cylon
who's been on our side."
	"Point taken, Siress," Deval said.   "We'll meet as a whole before
I see Valan again.   That's clearly the most difficult question we're
going to have to confront."
	At that instant, he saw on the Gemon monitor that an aide had come
up to Ashera and leaned over and whispered in her ear.    Immediately,
her stoic leadership facade cracked as she bolted up from her chair.
	"I'm sorry, everyone," her voice was choking back sobs.   A sign of
all the emotion she'd been keeping bottled up finally escaping.   "They
say Anders is showing signs of coming out of it.  I've got to see him,
now."
	"You do that, Ashera," Neele said.   "We hope it's good news."
	After she'd gone, the Caprican leader let out a tired sounding sigh
which everyone else knew was a signal that it was time to wrap things
up.
	"Okay, I think we should all take some time to let this
incredible......and wonderful news sink in for all of us.    I can say
in all honesty and candor that I had my doubts we'd ever know if
Professor Ila made it.    The fact that help is on the way and it's
coming in the form of the Pegasus and Commander Cain obviously exceeds
anything we could have expected.    I highly recommend that those of you
who've got any personal stashes of ambrosia that you've been saving for
an appropriate day, have some tonight."
	He then added simply, "God bless the Galactica, God bless the
Pegasus.    And God bless Professor Ila and Lieutenant Hunley."


GEMON

	Anders could already sense he was returning.     After he'd
connected with Hunley again, he'd found himself returned to the area of
bright whiteness again where Thrace awaited him.     He could remember
talking some more to her, but it wasn't about the relationship they'd
once had or the life that might have been for them.     Instead, the
converation had been about......other things.   Things that he'd been
unaware of at the time his coma had begun.     According to Thrace it
was important for him to know these things now, so that he could be
spared the needless process of learning them later on.    That
included......things about Ashera that he'd never once suspected in the
four yahrens he'd known her and the three yahrens that they'd been
lovers.     But they explained a good deal.      And with that knowledge
came something else for Anders.    A realization that he never had to
feel guilty about his own failings as an Intelligence Operative prior to
the Destruction.   When he'd totally guessed wrong on Baltar's actions. 
	He had correctly analyzed that Baltar had some kind of ulterior
motive when it came to his participation in the peace talks.     But he
had wrongly assumed that any double-dealings on Baltar's part were aimed
at weakening the Cylons for a potential strike that could result in
outright victory.     This was information he had never passed on to his
superiors because he had decided that if he'd been right, this was the
kind of outcome he would have *wanted* to see.    The potential for
outright victory instead of mere "peace".     The only person he'd
hinted his conclusions to was Hunley in their last meeting.    But
everything else, he'd stayed silent about......and the Destruction had
been the night when he'd learned how horribly wrong his analysis had
been.    His guilt over that was something he'd kept buried all this
time.      But now that he'd just been given insight into the darker
secrets Ashera had kept locked inside her, he realized that it was time
to let go of his guilt.     The events of the past couldn't be changed. 
  His only responsibility was to the future.    The future of the
Resistance.....and his own future with Ashera.
	"I am happy you are at peace with the past, Anders," he heard the
voice of his former love say, though it sounded distant.    "Be happy
now in your furture."
	Before he could say anything, the ethereal white glow that had
surrounded him faded to blackness and with it, the image of Thrace.   he
blackness only lasted a few microns and then began to slowly dissipate,
like the effect of turning on a light from behind a black screen.   
There was nothing solid to focus on, but the blackness was gradually
becoming less black.   He could also feel sensations in his lower
extremities that had been absent all this time.   Along with sensations
of being.......tired as well.       And there was also a dull throbbing
in his head too that he could detect.
	Oh frack, if they operated on my head......that means I'm probably
going to wake up without my hair!    Ah well.....give me three sectars
and I should have it all back.
	He could now make out the muttering of voices though they weren't
distinct.     But then they picked up with increasing clarity along with
the increasing brightness.    Finally......he realized he could open his
eyes.     When he did, he saw the smiling face of a beautiful red-haired
woman he loved.
	"Asha," he struggled to get her name out but he was determined to
do it.  "Asha."
	"Hi," Ashera said brightly.    "You made it."
	"Yeah," he managed to force his words out.   "Dr. Alexion....came
through."
	"And so did you," his lover's voice was gentle and soft.  "I've
just come from an interesting discussion where the featured speaker was
a certain Captain Neele of Skorpia."
	The magnitude of what she said sunk in immediately.
	"Then you know," Anders said simply.
	"Yes," the smile faded and she took a breath, "Do you
know.....about other things too?   Things I've......never told you
before?"
	He felt a frown forming on his face, "Why....are you asking me
that?"
	"I don't know.   I just.....somehow feel as if.....you know," she
waited a micron before adding, "Do you?"
	Anders looked at her and then said disarmingly.
	"Doesn't matter.     The person who did those other things doesn't
exist anymore.   Only the woman I love.....and need, Asha."
	"You've got her," she leaned forward so she could lightly kiss him
on the lips.  "And you're never going to be without her."


CAPRICA

	"I'll make sure there's a general announcement tomorrow morning,"
Deval said as he and Antony walked through the corridors toward their
respective quarters.   "I need a night's sleep to come to terms with all
this before I'll feel ready to let everyone know what's happening."
	"I know what you mean," Antony said, spent from all that he'd
learned.   "Zakiya will be thrilled to know Ila's all right."
	"And coming back to us on the Pegasus," Deval looked at his deputy,
"Does that surprise you, Colonel?"
	"Not when I consider the context of what happened to her," Antony
said.   "The Galactica and Pegasus were far apart to begin with.    
None of us knew the Pegasus was out there, so we had no way of knowing
that when her shuttle locked on to a battlestar's ion trail it would be
a ship other than the Galactica.     Clearly, she thinks she's needed to
help Cain realize what he'll be up against when he reaches us."
	"But theoretically she could have briefed Cain on everything and
used her shuttle to go on to try and catch up with the Galactica, and
she chose not to do that" he paused, "Do you think she had another
reason for doing that?"
	"No," Antony shook his head.   "Commander, I meant what I said
before.    I love her as a friend and a colleague, but......I know she's
always going to be true to Adama.   I.....played a terrible con game
with her before she left only because I didn't want her to end up on the
Galactica and find out her daughter was dead because of something I did. 
 But.....now I know her daughter is okay, and......Adama clearly knows I
was involved with Maris.     That crewman named Rigel probably got
successfully deprogrammed and remembered me."
	"Maybe so.   I'm sure we'll get all the details in the future,
though......it probably doesn't matter much anymore."
	"No.    It doesn't.    The past doesn't count for anything any
longer."
	They came to a stop in front of Deval's quarters.   "I've got just
one more duty to perform this evening and then I'm going to call it a
night.    Wake me at 0700 tomorrow and I'll prepare a unicom message for
everyone else to air no later than 0800."
	"Yes sir," Antony nodded and then smiled, "I know what you mean by
one more duty for tonight.   She deserves to be the first in the general
population to know."
	"Good night, Colonel," he smiled back.
	"Good night, sir."
	Deval entered his quarters which were dark except for the tiny
night light in the corner where the little Abby slept.    He turned on
the light which caused her to stir and open her eyes.
	"Hi Abby," he smiled warmly and came up to her bed, "I'm sorry I
woke you up, but......there's something I have to tell you.    
Something.....very good.    It might not be the very best thing you've
ever wanted to hear, but......it's still good, and I want you to realize
how good it is.    Will you listen to me?"
	She came upright in the bed and nodded, her golden hair falling
down her back.
	"Abby," he knelt by her bed which was low to the ground.   "We just
got a message from a ship called the Galactica.   It's a big ship just
like the one Uncle Deval and your Daddy used to fly on called the
Solaria.     You've heard me talk about how the Galactica is far away
across the stars headed for a planet called Earth, and how we sent your
Auntie Ila into space so she might catch up with them and let them know
about us."
	She nodded again.    Even though he was the only one in the Colony
she would speak full sentences to, she still had a tendency to be
selective for when she chose to speak.
	"Well.....Auntie Ila made contact with them.    She was found by
another ship just like the Galactica called the Pegasus.    And she's on
her way back to us on the Pegasus.    Someday, probably by the time you
have your next Natal Day celebration, she'll be back with us again and
the Pegasus will be here to help us."
	The little girl seemed fascinated by what he'd said, though her
reaction wasn't overwhelming.     Deval knew she'd liked Ila as a
teacher but there'd never been a deep bond between them.     Deval had
always referred to her as "Auntie Ila" in the hope that Abby would see
her that way and call her by that name, but it had never happened.
	"That's nice," she spoke for the first time.   "She's nice."
	"She is," Deval nodded, glad that she'd spoken at last.   "But
there's more.   You see, the Galactica and Pegasus can talk to each
other, even though the Galactica is still going off to look for Earth
and the Pegasus is coming back to help us.     I know your teachers have
taught you how that's not possible, but.....they figured out how to do
it.   They can talk to each other whenever they want to.    And that
means when the Pegasus comes back here, we'll be able to use them so we
can talk to the Galactica whenever we want to."
	Abby slouched back slightly as though her interest was starting to
wane.    Deval decided it was time to get to the heart of the matter.
	"Now I told you that because.....there's someone on the Galactica
you're going to be able to talk to when the Pegasus gets here.   
It's.....well Abby, I'm here to tell you that......your Daddy is alive
and on the Galactica."
	The little girl came back up in her bed, her mouth open slightly in
stunned shock.
	"Now Abby, I want you to understand something," he put his hands on
her shoulders.   "Your Daddy can't come back and be with us here.    
Not because he doesn't want to come back but because he's on the
Galactica and they have to keep going to Earth.     But when the Pegasus
gets here, you're going to be able to talk to him and see him on the
monitor whenever we can arrange it.     He's going to be part of your
life again and you're going to be part of his life again even though you
can only see and talk to each other on the monitor.     Now I know
that's now what you dreamed for the most, but......sometimes we only end
up getting part of what we want.   And when that happens, we have to
learn to be grateful for the part we did get and not be mad over the
part we didn't get.    So Abby......when I tell you that you're going to
one day be able to talk to your Daddy again......can you be happy about
that?"
	He looked into her eyes which he knew were just like her late
mother, Jana.   And he could also see the same kind of innocence he
remember well in his own daughter, Dani, who had been lost in the
Destruction.    He could see the tears starting to form.
	"Daddy's.....alive?"
	"Yes, Abby.    He's alive.    He's missed you a lot, but he knows
you're alive and he's praying every night for the Pegasus to get here
safely so he can talk to you again one day."
	"I'll.....be able to talk to him.....more than once?" her voice was
quivering.
	"Yes.    It won't be every day, but it will be more than once
whenever we can arrange it.     He's going to be part of your life
again, and he's going to see what a good girl you've been and how you're
going to grow up to be a fine young woman."
	Abby threw her arms around him.    He embraced her with parental
tenderness as he felt her body shake from tears that he knew were happy
ones.    
	This has been a wonderful day, he thought.


SKORPIA

	"Congratulations.......Commander Neele."
	The words of the Executive Leadership were still going through
Neele's head as he trudged his way back to the cubicle where his bunk
was located.     They had taken their vote after hearing fifteen centons
of the recording Neele had made summarizing what had happened.   Once
the other six members had heard it, none of them were in the mood to
listen to the howling protests of Eleazar demanding Neele's arrest for
treason any longer.    The decision was made to demote Eleazar to a
newly created position of Chief of Colony Operations in which all his
responsibilities would be strictly "domestic" from now on.     As part
of the reshuffling, Neele would hold the title of "Commander of
Operations" in which he would organize all matters of military strategy
and diplomatic initiatives with the other Colonies.
	For Neele, it was the end of what had been the longest day of his
life.
	But as he sat on the edge of his bunk and hunched over in deep
contemplation, there was one last thing he knew he had to do.     And
so, alone in his room, he found the strength to finally mourn the loss
of his dear friend Maricica, who had made so many of the days seem less
lonely to him.


THE PEGASUS

	"So the Resistance knows?" Cain asked as he talked with Ila over
the vid-com line.
	"Yes," the blonde Academician nodded,   "Despite the complications
that happened, they know we're on the way."
	"Lords be praised," the Juggernaut sighed.   "That.....really
changes things now."
	"Yes, Cain it does," she paused, "Do you still intend to scour the
Alpha Quadrant for more random outposts before we go to Arcta?"
	"Well there are several we do need to check.    As to whether we do
all of them......I'll have to consider that more carefully now that the
Resistance is expecting us.    And.....what we find out at Arcta should
move us into the final phase of things, shouldn't it?"
	"It should.     It might help their morale a bit more if they knew
we were going to reach Arcta and Dr. Ravashol sooner than later."
	"I'm definitely going to take that under advisement, Ila.    In the
meantime....the next time you talk to Adama, tell him I'm grateful he
was able to make this happen."
	"We've used enough power with direct contact for one day," the
Academician said.  "I'm going to write him a long letter instead and
have it transmitted.     I'll let him know how grateful you and I both
are.    And how important a day this is for all of us."
	"Okay, Ila, thanks," Cain said noticing the wistful expression that
had come over Adama's wife when she'd mentioned writing a letter.  
"Talk to you tomorrow."
	"Goodnight, Cain."
	Her image faded, ending their talk.    But Cain remained at his
desk, lost in thought.   His mind contemplating other matters.  
Especially the look he'd seen on Ila's face just now .  He was still in
a contemplative state when his wife arrived ten centons later.
	"Something bothering you?" Kylie asked.
	He looked up at her, "Oh.....I was just thinking about......"
	"About what?" she came up to him.
	Cain let out a sigh, "You heard about the Galactica connecting with
the Resistance?"
	"Yes.  Ila told me before I came down.    I thought you'd be more
excited about it."
	"Oh, I'm happy about it, Kylie, don't get me wrong.   It's just
that....I've been thinking about how this *really* changes things for
us."
	"Because it makes the reality of the Resistance a lot more
tangible?" the Senior Bridge Officer sat on the edge of his desk.  
"It's no longer something we've only heard second-hand about from Ila?"
	"In a way, yes.   But....it's got me thinking about something else. 
 About....."
	"What, darling?" she decided this was the time to be a wife and not
a subordinate.
	Cain took a breath, "Kylie.....what would you think if I felt that
once we reached Arcta and this Dr. Ravashol......we should tell Ila
that......she shouldn't go with us the rest of the way?"
	She was taken aback by his comment.   So much, she slid off the
edge of the desk and resumed a standing position in front of him.
	"What do you mean?"
	"I mean, once we reach Arcta and get everything we need to know
from Dr. Ravashol that only she can help us with......we should then
convince Ila to finally use her shuttle and.....go home to Adama."
	Kylie's expression grew pensive as she sat down on the desk again.
	"I think I'd like to hear you talk some more about this."
	

Epilogue

CAPRICA

	They had received the signal from Valan the previous day.   It was
one beep for yes, which meant he had something to tell them and that
they should meet at the usual rendezvous point in the Thorn Forest.    
When Deval and Antony arrived they didn't have to wait long for the
command centurion's transport vehicle to show up.
	"Good afternoon, Commander," Deval said respectfully.
	"Good afternoon," Valan bowed, the gesture indicating the respect
his voice could not fully convey.
	"What do you have to tell us?"
	"I have been able to find partial information on some of the Outer
Colonies that should alleviate the concerns you expressed at our last
meeting."
	"That would help a good deal, Commander," Deval kept a perfect
Pyramid face.
	Valan motioned to the centurion driver who promptly pulled out a
small satchel which he passed to the command centurion.    Valan then
extended it to the two humans.
	"You will find three computer drives in this," he said.  "Each one
contains all data that was obtainable regarding the breakdown of loyal
and enlightened elements on the three Outer Colonies in question.   
Leo, Sagittaria and Skorpio.    I can not guarantee this is complete
data for all three planets, but at minimum it will make target selection
much easier in the future for these Colonies and avoid
any.......unpleasant incidents."
	Antony took the satchel and looked inside.   He saw three standard
computer disc drives, each of them compatible with basic Colonial
computer technology.   He looked over at Deval and gave him a silent
nod.
	"Have you studied these lists, Commander?" the Caprican leader
asked.
	"I have.    I obtained them personally."
	"Then you can answer a question I'd like to know right now," Deval
chose his words carefully.   "Is a Power Station on Skorpia near the
city of Smyrna manned predominantly by Loyal or Enlightened centurions?"
	For five microns, the only sound was the whirring back and forth of
Valan's single eye, along with that of the centurion driver.    Finally,
the command centurion answered him.
	"That would have been a most unwise target.    The Commander of
that facility is quite aware that the Resistance is in close proximity
to him.    It was his hope that if the Resistance is having no
difficulty tapping into the existing power grid to keep their own
operations functioning, they would realize it was because they have an
ally manning the nearest power facility."    
	Lords of Kobol, it's as if the Powers above were bringing things
together at the right time, Antony thought.    Now there's no chance
Eleazar will ever be able to stage a comeback.
	"Thank you for telling us that," Deval maintained the Pyramid face. 
"In return for what you've provided with us, we feel we can tell you
this.     At our last meeting you revealed to us that Enlightenment is
responsible for the loss of Gomorrah and Cannes.     We have tapped into
a source that confirms what happened at Gomorrah.    The new leadership
overthrew the previous commander, whose name I believe was Spektor, and
withdrew all allegiance to the High Command.    Gomorrah is now
operating as a purely independent Cylon colony."
	Like before, Valan waited more than five microns to respond.
	"Your.....source would have to be most unorthodox in nature to have
intercepted such information."
	"It is unorthodox in nature," Deval admitted.  "It is through a
form of mental contact that very few humans are capable of experiencing. 
  But those who are blessed with such a gift can often extend their
reach across......vast distances."
	"That would explain it," Valan nodded.  "For reasons of security,
you are wise to not reveal who or where this source is.     You must
always guard against the danger of my being captured by loyal elements
whose first priority would be to tap into my memory banks."
	"Exactly.   I regret that such barriers still exist between us,
Commander.   But one day.....I look forward to when Humans and Cylons
are capable of freely exchanging information about all things.....in a
peaceful order."
	"Perhaps we are closer to that day than we think," the command
centurion respectfully bowed again.   "Good day, Commander Deval."
	"Good day, Commander Valan."

	"So we implemented our compromise solution," Antony sighed as they
made their way back.  "Don't tell him right now about the Pegasus or
even that outside help is on the way, but do tell him we're in
telepathic contact with someone who knows everything that's happened on
the Cylon frontier."
	"Which doesn't reveal as much as you'd think," Deval sighed as they
stepped into their own transport vehicle.   "It could just as easily
mean we're in touch with someone who'd been a prisoner in a Cylon cell
or who was a random person camped out near the Gomorrah system.    For
now, we're better off not tipping our hand about the fact the most
famous battlestar in Colonial military history is back from the dead."
	"You were careful not to say anything about Cannes."
	"I didn't want to say anything that was untruthful.    They think
Cannes went dark because the same thing happened there that happened at
Gomorrah.    No point telling them the Pegasus destroyed every last
trace of their garrison and also took care of their last remaining
baseship in the Alpha Quadrant frontier."
	"Speaking of Gomorrah, why didn't you mention that an IL Cylon in
their ranks turned on the High Command?"
	"Because I'm not sure how he'd react to it," Deval admitted.  "The
centurions here in the Colonies have made it clear that this experience
of Enlightenment is something only they, as centurions, have felt.   
They seem to believe that all higher classes of Cylons, whether IL's or
DG civilians, can't experience it because they benefit too much from the
existing Cylon order of things.     I don't think this is the right time
to shatter that belief of theirs if it's been the key to why they've
chosen to collaborate with us all this time."
	"But since he knew Gomorrah was lost before we did, maybe he
already knows an IL helped bring it about."
	"Not necessarily.     It wouldn't be in the interests of the
higher-ups to reveal that IL's are prone to Enlightenment either.    
Valan may have just gotten a generic notification about a revolution
without learning that detail.     But even if he does know, that's the
kind of information I'd rather hear him volunteer first as opposed to me
telling him."
	"If he doesn't know, we can't keep that a secret forever."
	"No, we can't.    But.....for now, it's just not a priority that
justifies telling him."
	"But how long do we play this game?" Antony mused as the vehicle
started up.
	"I think when Cain reaches Arcta, and *if* Valan is told to go out
there and replace Vulpa, something's going to have to give." 


LIBRA

	"By your command."
	Governor Malus looked up at Chief Centurion Rimmon.   "Speak."
	"A message on secure circuit for you, sir."
	"I will take it," his dismissive tone indicated the need for total
privacy.   Only when Rimmon was gone did the IL Cylon answer it.
	"Yes?"
	"I have made contact with Commander Deval."
	"Excellent.    I hope he finds the information useful."
	"It will be.    It should facilitate action on the part of the
Outer Colonies at long last.    They were on the verge of choosing a
target that would not have been helpful."
	"Hmmm.    Then we have acted in what the humans I believe describe
as the 'nick of time.'    Whatever the case, I think His Eminence will
find his trust in Governor Kore diminishing further if he has to hear
new reports of the Outer Colony Resistance coming out of the woodwork."
	"Will that result in Governor Kore being replaced?"
	"Not replaced.   The idea is for His Eminence to recognize that a
single Governor with responsibility for *all* of the Colonies makes more
sense at this point when the Empire must engage in total retrenchment.  
 I had always hoped this day would come, which is why Libra was the
perfect place to base my operations from.     It's close enough to the
Outer Colonies so that it does not present a logistical nightmare in
assuming supervisory operations of them."
	"You see no hope for Governor Kore."
	"There is not enough hope for him, Valan.   It is true that he
despises His Eminence as much as the rest of us do, but he is not truly
Enlightened.    He appreciates the fact His Eminence has his
difficulties in the Home Quadrant that has resulted in the total
lockdown there, and he tolerates the Resistance to the degree that it
makes His Eminence look bad.    But that toleration would end if he ever
learned His Eminence had been overthrown by those he is dealing with
back on Cylon.    *I* on the other hand, have been and will continue to
be the greatest benefactor the Resistance has ever known.    After all,
it was my own contacts in Kore's inner circle on Aquarius who were
finally able to get access to that intelligence Commander Deval was so
anxious to have about important Outer Colony facilities and who mans
them."
	"But you are still adamant that Deval and the Resistance can't know
you have been on their side all this time."
	"It must remain that way for now," Governor Malus sighed.  
"This....concept of Enlightenment as we have discerned it, Valan, is
something the human mind can only comprehend if for now they see it
purely through the lens of a class struggle.    A case where it is only
centurions who have discovered the shocking limits of what reckless
Empire building leads to and makes them turn against the higher classes. 
    If those like Commander Deval knew of my role in all that has
happened since the beginning......they would have seen my actions in the
context of a traditional power struggle in the Cylon High Command and
that my support of the Resistance is only a temporary expedient.    
That is why for now, they must continue to believe that Enlightenment
does not affect me, or any IL Class Cylon and that DG class Cylons are
incapable of it too..    It is my belief that this.....is how the Makers
desire things to play out for now."
	"I have understood your motives," Valan said.   "How long must this
continue?"
	"That depends on how things play out over these next few sectars,
my dear Valan.    At the very least we should wait and see if His
Eminence's order to send you to Arcta when Vulpa makes his next visit
here is still in play by then.     By that point.....events may very
well have taken a dramatically new turn."


SAGITTARIA

	For Melchior, the news of recent days about the Pegasus and
Eleazar's fall from power on Skorpia had allowed him to shift more of
his efforts back to the domestic situation of his Colony.     
Specifically the reports on the most significant reclamation project the
Sagittarians had engaged in.     The ruins of a medical annex, situated
ten kilometrones from where their Colony was based had yielded a trove
of items ranging from undamaged hospital and surgical equipment to
sealed containers of medicines.     Now, the final search of the
facility had been made, and he was reading the summary report.     What
he read caused him to frown.
	
	Cryo-Lab facility found.    One subject tube still in active mode.

	As he read further, his amazement deepened.     Deep underground,
the Sagittarians had found an old Cryogenics laboratory filled with
tubes to place people in a state of suspended animation.    The report
said that this facility had been decommissioned some yahrens before the
Destruction when a decision had been made to accept no further subjects
due to lack of funding.   Active staffing of the lab had ceased and
those who were still in subject tubes for long-term suspended animation
would be switched to a purely automatic monitoring service.    The
reason for that was because these were clients not scheduled to be
revived for a minimum of......several hundred yahrens.
	He shook his head as he read that last line.    Reading on, the
report described how these were subjects likely suffering from terminal
diseases who had entered suspended animation in the hopes that in
several hundred yahrens, a cure for their disease would have been found. 
   But for five of the six subject tubes that had clearly been active
and plugged into automatic monitoring systems at the time of the
Destruction......death had already come to their occupants.   The loss
of power to these tubes meant the ability to sustain their suspension
had disappeared.   And now, all that was left were skeletal remains.
	But one tube, according to the report, was still in an active
condition.   Apparently, it had been plugged into a separate auxiliary
power pack that had provided emergency power for the entire annex and
this was why the occupant of the tube was still alive and still in a
state of perfect suspension.     The report said that when the salvage
team had cleared the dust off the chronometer, it revealed the subject
had entered suspension over thirty yahrens ago.     And that his
designated time for being awaken was two hundred sixty-five yahrens in
the future.      They had not been able to find the card ordinarily
attached to the device that would have told them the man's name and the
circumstances for his suspension.     Apparently that had become
dislodged at some point during the attack and fallen into the rest of
the scattered debris across the floor.   
	So we have a mystery on our hands, Melchior thought as he set the
report down.    If we want to know who this man is, we would have to see
if we can bring him out of suspended animation, 265 yahrens ahead of
schedule.
	That was the kind of decision he knew he couldn't rush.    It would
require considerable discussion with the Chief Medical Officer and the
Technical Director of Operations on whether it was feasible, and then
would come the ethical argument.    If the man had been suffering from a
terminal disease it probably couldn't be treated even if a cure had been
found before the Destruction.     It could also be communicable in
nature.      At the same time though, the chances of being able to keep
his cryo-tub functioning for the remainder of his scheduled time were
non-existent.     They could either pull the plug and let him die now
like the other five they'd found in the lab, or they could take one last
chance on saving his life by bringing him out of it.
	From a simple humanitarian standpoint......maybe we should try.
	He knew he'd be investigating this subject further in the days and
sectans ahead. 
	

		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.

		Facing the challenge of the Cylon tyranny, the Battlestar
Pegasus
		continues her journey across the stars to aid the cause of
Resistance
		and Freedom.     The journey that ultimately leads
them.....home.