Battlestar Galactica: 'Glitches' Virtual Season 4, Episode 9 Written by Carla, special acknowledgement to Eric Paddon, Senmut, and 'the list' May 13, 2019 Virtual Season Four, Episode Nine /There are those who believe that life here began out there, far across the universe, with tribes of humans who may have been the forefathers of the Egyptians or the Toltecs or the Mayans. Some believe that there may yet be brothers of man who even now fight to survive somewhere beyond the heavens.../ Chapter One, Scene One "Father?" Sheba muttered softly as she moved restlessly, struggling against the restraining weight of the thick blanket that she had wrapped around herself before drifting off to sleep, "Father?" she felt herself floating above the deck of a shuttle bay, looking down at a small vessel of Colonial design, "Father?" she tried to speak as Cain, with Tolen beside him peered into the opening of the small shuttle, a look of shock on his face as he observed the beautiful woman who lay in suspended animation inside. /Her name is Ila/, the words seemed to come from her own mouth, yet she was seeing with Cain's eyes, speaking with his voice, "Her name is Ila..." "Sheba?" a familiar voice led her closer to the edge of wakefulness, "Sheba? Are you alright? Cassie said she sent you to lie down." "Apollo," Sheba's eyelids fluttered as she focussed on the dimly lit face above her, "she's in the shuttle. Ask Father to show you." "Sheba. Sheba, you're dreaming," Captain Apollo leaned down to kiss his wife's forehead, "Cassiopeia told me that you had a slight fever. How are you feeling now?" "Oh, Apollo, it's you," Sheba stretched slowly and moved to prop herself up on a doubled over cushion, "I guess I was a little more worn out than I realized," The Lieutenant smiled up at the expression of concern on her husband's face, reaching to hold his face between her cupped palms, "Cassie seemed to think that I was over-doing things a little, so I got sent to my room for a nap," Sheba was relieved to see a begrudging smile begin to work its way across Apollo's face, "you worry about me too much. People have been having babies for millennia, you know." "Yes, I know," the Captain's smile belied the affectation of annoyance at his wife's resistance to what she had referred to as 'the monotony of maternity leave', "but this will be /our/ first time, and I'm not taking any chances on anything happening to you, or our family," he briefly placed a gentle hand on his wife's abdomen, then reached up to grasp her hands between his own, "How do you feel now?" "Honestly, I feel fine, but..." Sheba's brow furrowed as she struggled with a memory of ... something ... something was happening in the landing bay... "You were talking in your sleep, calling out for your Father," Apollo brushed a stray lock of honey brown hair behind Sheba's ear as her look of confusion gave way to something else, something like recognition. "Yes, I was dreaming. It's coming back to me now," Sheba sat back against the cushions as Apollo moved to sit beside her on the bed, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders as she spoke. The tone of her voice taking him back to that moment some sectons ago, when he had found her in the Celestial Dome, contemplating the loss of her father and the sense of emptiness that plagued her over the question of Cain's disappearance. "I was in the shuttle bay, aboard the Pegasus. My father was there, well, I mean, I was there and he was there at the same time," Sheba shook her head slightly as if trying to clear her thoughts, "It was as if I was seeing through his eyes. He and Tolen were opening the access to a single passenger shuttle, a long range ship that looked like it had been retro-fitted with a lot of extra technology that I didn't recognize. There was a woman inside, in suspended animation..." Sheba's voice softened as Apollo leaned in to listen, his brows lifting at the look of confused realization on her face, "It was Ila," Sheba whispered, "Apollo, I dreamed that your Mother had arrived aboard the Pegasus in suspended animation, that she and Cain are both alive, and together somehow aboard the same ship. It was so real. It felt like I could almost reach out and touch her." "You're over-tired, and maybe you were thinking how much you've been missing your Father, just as I miss my mother," Apollo swallowed the lump in his throat that had developed at the mention of his mother, willing himself to put his own emotions aside as he pulled the blanket up to cover his wife and gathered her into a warm embrace, "Dreams can be so real when ...", the Captain's words of reassurance were cut short by the chiming of the communications console at his bedside, "Yes, Apollo here," he spoke in a professional, clipped tone as he pressed the keypad, starting slightly at the cacophony of sounds that briefly emanated from the small speaker, "Komma, is that you?" "Aye, Skipper", the voice on the other end was indistinct and difficult to discern though sporatic bursts of static, "we're still having tech troubles down here, and I've sent a few people to deal with those glitches we were having on the bridge. Seems like there's something going on with the electronics, but diagnostics are ..." the signal ended suddenly, leaving Apollo and Sheba in momentary silence. "Komma? Komma, come in," the Captain stabbed at several controls before shrugging with frustration and rising from the sleeping platform, turning to replace the blanket and once more kiss his wife's forehead, "Komma's been dealing with a lot of maintenance requests this shift. Why don't you stay here and catch some more sleep while I check in on him. We need to get to the bottom of it before anything serious happens," Apollo playfully pointed a finger as he saw a protest begin to make its way past Sheba's lips, "humour me," he brushed the stubbornly stray lock of hair from her face with a gentle hand, "take some time and rest." "Alright, you and Cassie win this time, but don't get used to it," Sheba muttered as she lay back once more to sink into a restless slumber while her husband tip-toed quietly from the chamber, images of the Pegasus, and her child's grandparents moving through her mind, just beyond the edge of some place that she felt she needed to be, to find something that lay just beyond her ability to grasp. Chapter One, Scene Two "Look out, Skipper!" Apollo had barely enough time to avoid a sputtering shower of sparks as he responded to Sergeant Komma's warning, jumping through the hatchway to join the maintenance crew that currently scurried like a hive of insects over the electronic components that lay scattered across the deck in the makeshift work space adjacent to landing bay Alpha. "What in Hades Hole is happening, Komma," Apollo surveying the scene before him, "It looks like somebody went crazy with a hammer in here." "I know, Skipper," Komma shrugged with frustration and gestured with an expansive spreading of his arms toward a workbench piled high with tools and wiring diagrams, "the Commander assigned us to this area to run some diagnostics on ship-wide systems, but every time I check one circuit, another one goes crazy. Right now, I don't even have the Unicom on-line." "Do you have any idea what's causing it?" Apollo stepped carefully over some stray wires and moved to join Komma at the main console, "How soon can you get everything back on-line?" "It's not that simple, Sir," Komma's frustration was clear in his tone, a tone that Apollo had rarely heard from the technician. Komma seemed to have a knack for solving and repairing almost any problem presented to him, and the Captain was unaccustomed to seeing the Sergeant in such a state of helplessness, "we're having all sorts of seemingly unrelated glitches, and they're happening ship-wide. I've asked the Bridge Crew to temporarily suspend any travel or transfer of data with the rest of the Fleet until we can isolate the problem." "So, we're cut off from the rest of the Fleet?", Apollo's brow furrowed as he considered the situation, "that's a security problem to say the least. Do we have communications of any kind right now?" "We have limited ship to ship transmissions moving through a couple of isolated circuits. They're not affected as yet, but I can't promise that they won't be," Komma pursed his lips as he pored over a circuit diagram on the nearby worktop, "I'm afraid that this might take some time. We're running a complete set of diagnostics on the entire ship. Here, Skipper," Apollo took the small headset from Komma's proffered hand and placed it securely around the lobe of his ear, adjusting the small microphone to sit near his mouth, "we'll have to use these while the Unicom is down." "Alright, Komma," Apollo headed back the way he had come, navigating past the coils of wiring and disconnected panels to reach the hatchway, "I'll be on the bridge if you need me," the Captain nodded at Komma's crew as he exited into the corridor, turning toward the lift at the rear of the landing bay. "Hold the lift!", Apollo's finger paused over the controls, looking up to see Lieutenant Starbuck rushing to join him on the lift platform, "going my way, Captain?", the Lieutenant flashed a toothy smile at his friend as the lift door closed and they began their journey upward. "If you're going to the bridge, then I'm going your way.," Apollo sighed and leaned back against the rear of the lift, "aren't you supposed to be training some cadets this cycle?" "Cancelled," Starbuck's smile belied his attempt at a tone of disappointment, "the equipment failures were getting a little too comical, to be honest. I had one cadet trapped under an emergency braking net behind a viper, and another one fell into an open pit of what I can only describe as, well, let's just say that the smell will take a while to wash out." "Yeah, I can see that you're all broken up about missing a training shift," Apollo's smile brightened a little as he gently mocked his friend, "such commitment." "Just a centon, Skipper," Starbuck's expression was one of wide-eyed innocence, "you don't think that I'm happy to get away from cadet training do you? Why, I'll have you know that I ..." /BANG/, a sudden lurch in the lift's movement cut off Starbuck's mocking reply and sent both men rolling onto the decking below them. "It's speeding up!" Apollo reached for the controls, struggling against the gravitational forces now impacted the lift and its occupants, "the emergency braking system is..." a sudden squeal of metal on metal brought the Captain's words, and the lift's movement, to an abrupt end, leaving Apollo and Starbuck in silent darkness." "Can you get the door open?" Apollo's voice seemed to thunder through the now silent lift, as the /swoosh/ of the door exposed them to the deep red of the emergency lighting that now flooded the corridor before them. Apollo started at the sudden flare of a match in Starbuck's hand. "We're one level below the bridge," Starbuck moved the matchstick to illuminate the level designation plate on the console beside the lift doors, "I guess we're walking the rest of the way, huh?" "Looks that way, buddy," Apollo tapped the small microphone on the headset that Komma had given him, "I can't get any signals on this thing, come on, let's get to the bridge and see if they've figured any of this out." The Captain clapped his friend on the shoulder as they made their way through the darkness, Starbuck's supply of matches leading them forward." Chapter One, Scene Three "Komma, Komma," Commander Adama spoke into the microphone on the command console before him, his tone suggesting that he expected no reply. The white-haired warrior turned to share a look of contemplation with Officer Omega, as the two surveyed the open panels and cross-connected wires surrounding Omega's work area, "We need to establish communications, Omega. Have you been able to get anything through to Tigh or any of the other ships?" "No, Sir", Omega shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of sheer frustration, the tall man's habitual thoughtful scowl now becoming noticeably pronounced, "I know that the Colonel was taking in the show on the Rising Star, but I can't get through to him or anyone else. We're on our own until we..." "Somebody's coming through the door!" Adama and Omega turned to join several crewmen as they rushed to the hatchway opening onto the metal walkway above the command platform. "Apollo! Starbuck!" there was relief in the Commander's tone as he offered a hand to the two warriors who now cautiously stepped through the hatchway and entered the bridge, "that hatchway has been jammed shut for half a centar. We've been waiting for someone to realize it and trip the emergency release on the other side. This side has no power. What's going on through the rest of the Fleet?" "Sir," Captain Apollo followed his father as the group stepped quickly back toward the command platform, "Komma has effectively quarantined the Galactica from the rest of the Fleet. There seems to be some sort of malfunction in the system, but he hasn't isolated it yet, and the Unicom was down when I left him in the work bay." "Systems are down everywhere," Starbuck stepped forward, leaning over Omega's chair as the Bridge Officer continued attempting diagnostics from his console, "Boomer and Athena came in on a shuttle from the Rising Star as I was headed for the barracks. Kalysha's doing two or three sets in the Astral Lounge and they took in the early show so they wouldn't be keeping their child-minder too late. They said that the shuttle ride was fine until they started to land, and things got a little rough... "When the Galactica's system would have taken over to guide the passenger shuttle," Omega spoke up, "We have to make sure that nobody travels to or from the Galactica until we find the cause of this, Commander," Omega's tone was grim,"if these glitches affect the wrong systems at the wrong moment, the result could be very serious." "Tell me about it," Starbuck spoke up, "Apollo and I started up here on the lift, and we were lucky that the manual emergency braking clamps worked." "My god," Adama gasped, "after what happened to Bojay...," the older man's words trailed off as the group shared a somber moment, "Well," Adama shrugged deliberately, straightening his back and clasping his hands behind his back in a familiar gesture that told his crew that he was preparing for action, "we're all fine for now, so let's keep it that way. Omega, get me some way to communicate with the rest of the ship. Use whatever help you need, and keep that door from jamming shut again." "Aye, Sir," Omega nodded and gestured toward Apollo and Starbuck, "if you don't mind, gentlemen, I could use some help with this access panel over here." "Maintenance," Starbuck released an exaggerated sigh, and shook his head, glancing at Apollo's equally exaggerated look of commiseration, "Well, I suppose it's better than minding those cadets." Chapter One, Scene Four "This brings back memories," Athena's tone was rife with quiet irony as she held a small work-light over Boomer's shoulder, "At least nothing seems to be on fire." "Just hold that light steady, love," Boomer offered a wry smile, "I haven't hot-linked any hatchways or hover-mobiles in a while." "It's just more than a little ridiculous that we're stuck in the Rejuvenation Centre. We start off with a night out at a great show and a child-minder who's available for the whole cycle. Then we wind up with a rough shuttle landing, a truant nephew, and a host of equipment failures," Athena's tone was harsh, but Boomer could tell from the twinkling of his wife's pale blue eyes that the humour of the situation was not lost on her, "and here we are, hot-linking the door, after all this time..." "Hey," Boxey's impish grin thawed his aunt's annoyance somewhat as he stepped forward, a headset and a small screwdriver clutched in his hands, "It's been a great reunion so far, guys, but why no mushies this time?" "Smart-astrum," Boomer muttered as he cross-connected another set of cables, "If we'd known we were going to be stuck in here again, I'd have brought some rations, or maybe even not come at all" "Alright, you two, let's focus," Athena interjected laughingly, 'Boxey, can you get any signal at all?" "Negative," the young man replied, gesturing with the headset grasped delicately between two fingers, "I can't get anything on the isolated unit, and the main-frame wiring seems to be completely off-line." "Not completely," Boomer spoke up as he reached for the last pair of cables, "Get ready, everyone, we've got just enough power here to open this door, so let's move fast when I make this connection" Chapter One, Scene Five "I just don't understand it," Sergeant Komma pored over the wiring plan on the one currently operating screen above the work top, "I can get isolated systems like this monitor and back-up cell to power up, but when I try to connect more than two or three of them to power up the main-frame diagnostics program, I get nothing but seemingly random failures." Komma pressed a sequence of keys on the console in front of him, initiating yet another shower of sparks before the powered up system went dark, "Sagan's sake," he muttered through pursed lips and reached for the paper drawings once more. "I think I've got something here," Komma was startled by the sudden entrance of Doctor Wilker, the older man excitedly waving a notepad in the younger man's direction, "there's a virus causing these failures. We didn't detect it because it's been specifically designed to disable the diagnostic programs before infecting a given system. Whoever programmed this code is experienced with this sort of thing." "That's great news, Doctor Wilker," Komma's voice sounded hopeful for the first time since this cycle of showering sparks and frustrated warriors had begun, "so, do we just run a scrubbing program and remove it?" "It's not that simple, Sergeant", Wilker's signature tone of doom, well known to those who worked with him, was particularly troubling to Komma's ears, "the virus has been coded in such a way that it can evolve. By the time I can get an algorithm into the system to begin scrubbing it, the virus will have moved on and provided cover for itself by transmitting itself to a completely different circuit. It's basically building barriers behind itself. We've got to find a way to head it off, predict its reactions. Chasing it around with an anti-virus program won't cut it, I'm afraid." "If this thing is programmed to appear as random malfunctions, then there must be some way to deduce it's next movement, assuming we can act quickly at a given moment, before it adapts and blocks us again!" Komma's face was suddenly alight with a look that seemed at odds with the dimness of the work bay, "Doctor Wilker! Can you take over here while I make my way to the bridge? I think that there may be a way to re-program this thing without setting off its security features, but I need to do it from one of the main circuits on the bridge." "Yes," Wilker's expression lightened somewhat as he realized what Komma was planning, "Yes, a complete re-boot, but done in such a way as to outsmart the virus and trap it with its own adaptive technology!" Wilker handed Komma the crumpled notepad, steering him toward the jammed-open hatchway, "Get going, Sergeant. We can try to be ready for the attempt from here, but it would be nice if we could rig up some way for you to communicate with us from the bridge when you're ready for the custom re-boot." "I'll do my best, Doctor, even if we have to have crewmen running back and forth down the corridors with messages, we'll find a way to make it work," Komma paused briefly at the hatchway, "If you don't hear from me in the next centar, send a technician in my place to try again. Wish me luck!" Wilker nodded as the younger man disappeared into the corridor, then turned to survey the various components and access panel covers that currently littered the decking before him, muttering in his typically dour tone, "Good luck to us all." Chapter Two, Scene One "It's not going to be easy, Sir, but it is actually quite simple," Sergeant Komma stood facing Adama and a semi-circle of crewmen gathered around Officer Omega's console, "if we can get the timing right, co-ordinate with at least two other groups of people to triangulate the code that directs the virus to adapt and move to a new circuit, then we can try to isolate it inside a closed system, trap it in a model of one of the bridge circuits, and study it to determine its source, or at least its purpose." Komma gestured toward the nearest bank of communication circuitry, Wilker's notebook still grasped firmly in his hand, "Until we isolate this virus, we don't even dare to attempt to communicate with the rest of the Fleet." "Someone is bound to be attempting to access our remote receivers." Apollo exhaled in frustration, unfolding his arms and moving restlessly away from the railing against which he had been leaning, his impatience clearly marked in the expression on his face, "One successful connection could potentially infect the whole Fleet. Then what will we do?" "Yeah," Starbuck chewed on an unlit cigarello, his own frustration bubbling over in spite of his cavalier tone, "what /can/ we do? Put a sign in the window?" "That's exactly what we do!" Apollo grasped his wing man by the shoulders, his face lighting up with an expression that Starbuck had come to know well. Apollo with an idea had been the beginning of many of Starbuck's most challenging tasks over the yahrens that the two had served together. "We send off flares through a couple of airlocks, aligned to form something simple that will serve as a message to the rest of the Fleet, something that will communicate our status, or at least warn them off until further notice." "Opening a couple of airlocks with tech glitches randomly affecting the sub-systems?" Starbuck grimaced and reached for his matches, "what could go wrong?" He took a long pull on his now smouldering cigarello and exhaled slowly, combining the action with a deep sigh as he turned to look into Apollo's exaggeratedly innocent grin with a distinct attitude of resignation, "did you have any volunteers in mind?" "You bet, buddy," Apollo clapped his friend on the shoulder and pulled him gently toward the stairs that led to the open hatchway and the corridor beyond, pausing only to accept a proffered sheet of note paper from Komma. "This signal should get the message across to the technicians on some of the ships, Sir," Komma leaned forward with a lowered tone, "we have board game club that Doctor Wilker's been running. Two flares fired together with the settings I've written here will form a symbol that the other gamers will recognize." "Alright men," Adama's firm tone interjected, causing Komma to start slightly, "Apollo and Starbuck, you get word to the Fleet, and for Sagan's sake, be careful," The Commander turned back to address Komma once more, "Komma, whatever it takes. I don't care if every crewman is relaying paper notes from here to the aft thrusters, just get this ship back in working order!" "Aye, Sir!" Komma clutched Wilker's notebook, holding it as if it were a priceless piece of glass, "I'll get Doctor Wilker's algorithms laid out for the technicians and start the triangulation process." Adama nodded his assent as Komma rushed away toward the main circuitry bank, then turned to share a glance of concern with Omega, the two men needing no words to express their thoughts. After all these yahrens of navigating the Galactica's course together, they each knew what the other was thinking, /here we go again, only one patched together plan, and the odds against us. There's only one way for a warrior to go when faced with no options: forward/. Chapter Two, Scene Two "Athena, Boxey, are you alright?" Boomer paused in the darkness of the corridor, turning to illuminate the faces of his companions with the gentle beam of the emergency hand torch that he had removed from a bracket near the entrance to the Rejuvenation Centre, "careful you don't trip. It looks like the maintenance crews have been through here with a thruster turbine. There are wires and access panels everywhere!" "We're fine, Boomer," Athena grasped Boxey's hand with her own, smiling down at the boy as she spoke, projecting an air of calm that disguised the tension that she actually felt, "we'll head on home and check on the kids, Boxey. We can drop you and Muffet there to help the child-minder and then we'll see if we can find out what's going on." "It's alright, Athena," Boxey tightened his grip on his aunt's hand, "I'm not scared, and neither is Muffet." "Looks like we won't be heading home just yet," Boomer gestured with the torch, stopping to illuminate the bulkhead in front of him, "this panel has been disabled, and there's a warning note from the technician, 'danger, do not use lift until further notice'," Boomer looked up from the large note that was clipped to the open access plate, "we'll have to try another route. Maybe we can make it to the bridge..." "Boxey!" Apollo's voice cut through the darkness, startling Boomer as he reflexively turned and inadvertently blinded Starbuck, who had stepped quietly from behind him. "Hey!" Starbuck cried in mock anger, blinking quickly as his eyes re-adjusted to the dim corridor, "what's the big idea? Can't a guy rescue the ship without being abused by his crew-mates along the way?" "I'm sure you'll be fine," Boomer drawled with a dry tone that he often reserved for his incorrigible friend, "what's that about a rescue? We could use one about now." "What are you doing here, Boxey?" Apollo interjected, emerging from the darkness to stand beside Starbuck, relieved at the sight of his sister and son in what looked like good condition, "I thought you were in classes until dinner-time." "School was cancelled because of the glitches, Dad," Boxey ran forward to enter his father's warm embrace, "I was on my way to Grandpa's quarters to find out where you and Sheba wanted me to go, but the lights went out and Athena and Boomer came and took me to the Rejuvenation Centre." "We thought at first that the power outage was temporary," Athena moved to place a hand on her brother's arm, sharing his sense of relief at seeing him safe, "we were planning to sit things out in the Rejuvenation Centre, but the glitches got worse, and Boomer had to hot-link the door to get everyone out of there. We three were headed for our quarters just now, but as you can see, the lift is out of service." "Yeah," Starbuck dryily regarded the lift entrance, "we found that out the hard way." "Never mind all that," Apollo cut Starbuck off, not wanting to frighten Boxey with a re-telling of his and Starbuck's narrow escape from the falling lift, "Boomer, Athena," the Captain straightened, placing a hand on his son's shoulder as he adopted a familiar, professional tone, "Wilker and Komma have discovered a virus that's messing with the ship's systems. Starbuck and I are on the way to warn off the rest of the Fleet with a manual flare signal, keeping the ship quarantined while they try to block and isolate the virus program. You take Boxey and Muffet on up to the bridge and check in with the Commander," his tone softened as he moved his hand to his sister's shoulder, comforting her as he had done with Boxey, "I'm sure the kids are alright. The child-minder probably has them tucked in reading stories." "I know," Athena returned her brother's warm expression, "of course you're right. Come on Boxey, let's go see if Commander Adama has any jobs for us to help with." She reached for Boxey's hand as she stepped forward to stand beside Boomer, "Apollo, Starbuck, be careful." "Don't worry, Athena," Starbuck quipped, glancing down at Boxey, joining the other adults in conveying an attitude of confidence to keep the boy from seeing the worry that permeated their thoughts, "I'm sure that the Skipper here won't take any chances with my safety." "And we know how concerned you are about doing things by the book, my friend," Boomer joined in on the banter that came naturally to this group that had been through so much together, "come on, Athena. Let's get Boxey up to the bridge so the Commander can put him to work." "Tell Komma to watch for the flare signal," Apollo called out as he and Starbuck hurried off down the corridor, "we'll try to send it out within the next half centar, depending on how quickly we can rig up the airlocks." "Did he say 'airlocks'?" Boomer turned toward his wife with a quizzical scowl. "I don't even want to know, Boomer," Athena shook her head and clutched Boxey's hand, "let's get going, guys." Boomer nodded as he grasped Boxey's other hand and the trio followed the torchlight, making their way to the nearest bridge access, not wanting to contemplate the combination of Apollo, Starbuck and the word 'airlock' too thoroughly. Chapter Two, Scene Three "Komma, have you got the triangulation algorithm coded into the mock circuitry?" Wilker's gravelly voice carried across the bridge as the senior scientist entered the hatchway and made his way over to join the Sergeant, "I have the second triangulation signal set to broadcast from the work bay, so we just need one more team to set up from a third location." "I may be able to help you with that, Doctor," Boomer entered through the hatchway, Athena and Boxey close behind him, "we just left Starbuck and Apollo a few centons ago. They said you were attempting to isolate a virus." "Athena! Boxey! Thank the Lords of Kobol that you're safe," Commander Adama rushed to his daughter's side, embracing her briefly and smiling with relief, "Starbuck told us that you and Boomer had a rocky landing with the shuttle back from the Rising Star." "Yes, Father," Athena spoke with a reassuring tone, accustomed as she was to her Father's tendency to be what she sometimes felt was a little overly protective, "we made the last shuttle before the system failures took hold, but I imagine Colonel Tigh wasn't so lucky. We saw him at the show, talking to Captain Allen while Kalysha was getting ready for the next performance. I imagine that he's been trying to contact you." "That's why we've got the Skipper and Lieutenant Starbuck sending out a flare," Komma interjected, "if the Colonel manages to make contact before we can isolate the virus, then the whole Fleet could be at risk." "Yes, Komma," Athena nodded, "Apollo asked me to tell you to watch for the signal. He said something about an airlock?" "They've got to fire two flares programmed with specific trajectories to form a three dimensional image in space that will hopefully warn off Colonel Tigh or any others that may be trying to break through, and the most efficient way to do that is to fire through an open port, directly into space. If we tried it through the automated systems, the virus might take over," Komma turned his attention to Boomer, "Sir, if you can set up the third triangulation point, then I can co-ordinate with you and Doctor Wilker. We'll have to get the timing just right with communications as they are." "Right," Boomer touched Boxey on the shoulder, "Boxey, you and Muffet stay here and help out the Commander. Athena and I are going to help Komma and Wilker to get that virus removed from the system, then we'll all have a few mushies and fruit juice to celebrate." "Yes, Sir," the boy responded with his child's version of a warrior's salute and posture, "Muffy and I will make sure that old virus doesn't hurt anybody." "Good man," Boomer exchanged a glance with Commander Adama as the older man looked on, "we'll make sure everybody stays safe." "Go on, Boxey," Adama touched a hand to the boy's shoulder, directing his toward the command platform, "you go and stay beside Omega for now, while Komma and Boomer get the equipment sorted. The older man paused until the boy was out of earshot, then turned to speak quietly to Boomer and Athena, "We have to work fast. If I know Tigh, he's already been trying to make contact, and we have to stop him before that virus gets a chance to wreak havoc with the rest of the ships in the Fleet." "Understood, Commander," Athena grasped the utility bag full of electronic equipment that Komma now proffered to her, adjusting the shoulder strap to fit her slight frame, "Let's go, Boomer. It's not the ideal end to a date, but at least we get to stay out later." "Leave it to you to turn an emergency into an excuse to avoid the kids," Boomer laughingly teased his wife as he accepted a second bag from Komma, along with a piece of notepaper, "Let's go, beautiful, we have some triangulation to do." "I love it when you talk technology to me," Athena quipped in return as the two took their leave of the bridge crew and made their way back through the hatchway, and into the darkness of the corridor." "Remember to check the timing before you switch on," Komma called out as the two warriors disappeared from sight. He turned to gaze briefly through a nearby view-port, struggling to disguise the worry that kept seeping into his expression, /I hope the techs on the other ships understand my message/. Komma shook his head in a quick motion, as if sweeping away any negative thoughts, /they'll get the message, they have to/. "Komma!" Wilker's voice cut through the Sergeant's reverie, "we're ready with the mock-up. Come and help me check the numbers!" "Yes, Doctor," Komma straightened his spine and moved to return to Wilker's side, putting aside his doubts and returning to his duty. Chapter Two, Scene Four "Have you got the settings locked in on the flare launcher, Starbuck?" Apollo peered at the notepaper in his hand, checking and re-checking the instructions that Komma had written in his distinctive block script, "one degree out of sync, and the image won't form properly." "You worry too much," Starbuck stared sadly at the now diminished butt of the cigarillo that he had turned to for comfort, then relented at the sight of Apollo's annoyed expression, "don't sweat it, buddy, the settings are locked in. It's the vacuum of space that has /me/ worried." "Just make sure that you strap yourself in before you open the gun port," Apollo allowed himself a smile at his best friend's antics. Starbuck had always used dark humour to mask his fear, and to maintain a brash exterior as a shield of sorts to hide his emotions from others, and even perhaps, a little, from himself. "Let's get suited up and get that message to the Fleet." "Why don't we just go outside if we're getting suited up anyhow?" Starbuck locked down the last of the fasteners that secured the airtight seal on one of the two space suits that Apollo had retrieved from a nearby maintenance locker, "Why strap in and point a gun out a little hole when we can just open the door and fire?" "It's not that simple, Starbuck," Apollo pulled on his gloves, pushing the wrist fasteners down with a firm hand, "first of all, we've got the glitches to consider. We don't want to be stuck out there with a hatch that won't open. Then we've got the force of the flare blasts to consider. By firing out through the smaller port with the flare launcher and strapping ourselves to the rigs in the airlocks, we can avoid being tossed around. Plus, the flares have to be launched from two separate points. I'll be several metrons away from you in the other airlock one whole section over. If anything goes wrong, we won't be able to reach one another in time. "I guess we've learned from our past mistakes," the two men smiled and shared an unspoken memory of that other space walk that had almost gone so terribly wrong. Had it not been for Starbuck, launching himself from a position of safety to take hold of his friend, Apollo may not have returned to his family, and had it not been for Sheba, refusing that day to give up on them after the fire-quenching blast that had tossed them clear of the ship, they both knew that they might have drifted off together into the vast silence of space. "Yes, /we/ have," Apollo snapped on his helmet, switching on the speaker to communicate with his wingman, "Synchronize chronometers, and hope that they're isolated from the virus," together the two men initiated the timers on their wrist chronometers, "I'm giving us enough time for me to get to the other airlock and get strapped in. Get the chamber depressurized and be ready to fire when the timer runs out. We may not have another shot at getting the message out in time, so let's get it right." "Aye, Captain," Starbuck waved as he moved to enter the airlock, "we'll get Komma's message out there, and let's hope that those buddies of his understand it." Apollo nodded and disappeared around the corner of the bulkhead as the airlock door hissed open, /so far, so good/, Starbuck moved to enter, positioning himself in front of the safety harness attached to the interior of the chamber, stepping into the cradle of the heavy straps, buckling himself in securely and hefting the flare launcher, /what could go wrong/. Starbuck sighed, pushed down hard on the large red button centered prominently on the top of the manual environmental control panel and stared down at the chronometer attached to the wrist band of his space suit, watching as the timer counted down and the alarm sounded to warn him that the depressurization process had begun /what could possibly go wrong/. Chapter Two, Scene Five "We've got a report from one of our runners, Commander," Officer Omega reached past the command platform railing to accept a small piece of note paper from a breathless crewman, nodding his acknowledgement and turning in his seat to address Adama, glancing down at the scrawled message in his hand, "It's from Boomer, Sir. They're ready in Launch Bay Alpha, as soon as Wilker and Komma give the all clear for the triangulation." "Good, Omega, good," Adama rubbed his palms in a gesture of anticipation, "any word on that warning message for Tigh?" "No, Sir," Omega's tone was flat, his professional demeanor betraying none of the emotion that Adama knew was there below the bridge officer's cool exterior, "we haven't heard from Apollo or Starbuck yet. We're watching for the flare signal. Doctor Wilker says that we don't dare try the triangulation until we can be certain that there are no incoming signals to interfere with the trapping system." Adama moved to stand in the open area of the command platform, looking out into the space beyond the main observation deck of the Galactica's bridge, his senses awed, even in the midst of an emergency, by the beauty of space. He smiled thoughtfully as he turned to regard his grandson, Boxey, his mind going back to the previous evening, a quiet night alone, when his thoughts had been of family and home. He'd fallen asleep with visions of Caprica and the life that had once been, and would never be again. He'd dreamt of Ila, and more. In fact, his brow furrowed slightly as he struggled to remember... something ... it was there for a moment...there was a face, a place that he felt he should be remembering, from a dream ... "Commander! The flares!" Omega's voice tore through the fragile fabric of Adama's thoughts and brought him back into the moment, his gaze once more moving to the massive observation port to see ... what ... what ... /what/? "Komma! What in the name of the Lords of Kobol is /that/!?" Adama pointed reflexively at the shape, the cloud of coloured dust in space that had combined to form the three dimensional symbol that Komma had given to Apollo and Starbuck to program into the flare launchers "I promise you, Sir, that the symbol will make sense to the techs on the other ships. I know it looks a little odd, Sir, but it was an emergency I didn't have time to..." Adama raised a hand, gesturing Komma into silence. "I'll take your word for it, Komma, but you could have given us some warning. I knew the symbol was likely to be cartoonish, but this is not just ridiculous, it's rather disgusting as well." "Yes, Sir," Komma cringed slightly and managed a weak smile in spite of the look of sheer confusion and disgust on the Commander's face, "that thing on the bottom that seems to be vomiting, that's the symbol for a computer virus, Sir. It's a gaming thing ... Sir." "Right. A gaming ... thing," the Commander's tone was not one of amusement, "Well, Komma. Let's hope that someone deciphers your message in time. We'll have to assume that incoming communications have ceased, and get on with the triangulation of the virus coding." "Aye, Sir. I'm on it," Komma felt that he may collapse from relief as he sped away from the command platform, grateful to escape Adama's disapproving glare, "I need two runners right now!" he called out to the assembled crewmen. We're setting the timers and I need to synchronize with the other two teams!" "Commander?" Adama turned at the sound of Omega's ever-steady voice, "Starbuck and Apollo got the flares off in time, but shouldn't they be back by now?" The two men turned together, both reflexively looking toward the open hatchway through which the two younger men had disappeared several centons earlier. "Send someone to check on them, Omega," Adama resisted the feeling of heaviness forming in his gut, /oh Lords, please let them be alright/, "meanwhile, let's get that virus out of the computer system once and for all." Chapter Three, Scene One "My God, what is it? What does it mean?" Tigh's voice rang out across the bridge of the Rising Star, the tall, dark man spreading his elegant, blue-sleeved arms wide as he beheld the view beyond the luxury liner's forward observation deck, "Captain Allen, do you see what I see?" "I, I don't know, Colonel," the earthman moved forward, his quizzical look a match for Tigh's, "It looks sort of like a big pink marshmallow with horns throwing up on a pile of, of , what the hell /is/ that thing?" "We've got to make contact with the Galactica," Tigh gestured toward the Captain of the Rising Star, who had assisted Tigh in setting up a command centre aboard his ship as soon as the crisis aboard the Galactica became apparent, "Captain, we need to get through to ..." "No, Sir! Wait! There's a computer virus infecting the Galactica's systems, Sir! "What, what are you saying, technician?" Tigh turned abruptly toward the young technical specialist who had called out to him with a decided tone of urgency, "a virus? How do you know this? Explain yourself crewman!" "Aye, Colonel," the young man stammered slightly as he resisted the urge to run from the force of Tigh's powerful presence and avoid the laser-like gaze of those clear, dark eyes, "well, you see, Sir ... that is ..." "Spit it out, man! There's no time for this nonsense! What is the meaning of that, that /thing/ out there?" Tigh stabbed a finger in the general direction of the view port, and Komma's flare signal. "Sir!" the young technician forged bravely onward, swallowing hard as he willed himself to speak, "Sir! Doctor Wilker has a gambling tournament going on with several teams, most of them technicians. We, uh, we have a lot of gaming characters and symbols that we use and they sort of come in handy for, uh, sending messages, and, well..." Tigh's ever rising eyebrow struck a chord of fear in the young man's soul, "Sir! The green character on the bottom indicates a computer virus, and the big pink mushie with the horns and the mucus, well, Sir, that's, uh the symbol to warn another game player if, uh, if Colonel Tigh is coming. It means, 'keep Tigh busy' Sir." "Keep Tigh busy?" the Colonel's icy gaze did not waver, though his voice lowered to an ominous whispering tone, "Wilker has an illicit gambling operation running out of his lab, and one of the coded symbols that he's using is a snotty pink horned candy with a stomach problem?!?" "Uh, yes Sir?" the technician seemed fold in on himself as he reflexively stepped backward feeling physical reaction to Tigh's disturbingly calm tone, "The 'keep Tigh busy' symbol, along with the the 'computer virus' symbol is a message, Sir. I believe that Sergeant Komma is telling us to stop you from trying to contact the Galactica and maintain a quarantine until further notice...Sir." "Very well, then," Tigh's calm tone continued as he regarded the technician, who seemed ready to faint at this point, "I will deal with you gamblers and your leader, Doctor Wilker, at a later time, crewman," Tigh paused as the younger man continued to hold his gaze, much like a rodent staring into the maw of a snake, "that will be all. Get back to your station and wait for new orders," Tigh watched as the man turned to flee, and sighed with a deep sense of resignation at the thought of Wilker and his gambling pool, and the unfortunate image that now had become rather personal to him. "Captain!" the Colonel's attention was once more on the task at hand, as he approached the ship's Captain once more, "Please see to it that the entire Fleet is informed that they are to suspend any attempts to make contact with the Galactica until I give the word." "Yes, Colonel, right away, Sir." "What's the next step? Captain Allen moved to stand beside the Colonel, both men unable to avoid looking out the view port at the symbol that Komma had chosen to convey his simple message, "If we can't contact them, they how can we help?" "We can't," Tigh spoke grimly, "we have to wait until they send us another message. They wouldn't have gone with, with, /that/," Tigh gestured once more toward the horned mushy creature which was now beginning to disperse into a shapeless cloud of multicoloured dust, "they wouldn't have gone with that as a choice of communication if they weren't in a desperate situation." "Look at it this way, Tigh," Allen touched the tall man gently on the shoulder and managed a gentle tone of humour, "they wouldn't have gone to the trouble for an officer they didn't respect." Tigh turned to look into the other man's eyes, his face displaying no evidence of the same sense of humour, "Right, it's such an honour," Tigh sighed once more with that same sense of resignation as he watched the 'keep Tigh busy' symbol vomit itself out of existence." Chapter Three, Scene Two "Careful, baby, your chair will tip if we move too fast. There's a lot of debris on the deck", Gayla cautioned as she gingerly stepped over a large cable that lay coiled along the corridor, "Bojay, I'm frightened. Maybe we should head back and wait things out in the Life Station." "Don't worry, sweetheart," Bojay gripped the large wheels of his mobility chair and pushed firmly, remembering to compensate for the imbalance of power between his two arms, having learned the hard way what happens to a wheelchair that is pushed forward with too much force on one side. It had been a bruising experience, to his body as well as his ego, "remember, that last crewman we passed told us that they're working on a plan to remove the virus. I'm sure it looks a lot worse than it is ..." "Look out!" Bojay's words of comfort were cut short by a sudden flurry of activity from the corridor behind them, "Watch out, Lieutenant! We've got to get by you. We've got an emergency in the airlock ahead!" "Let's go!" Bojay gripped the wheels once more, "hold me steady, Gayla. We're going to see what's happening up ahead," he held up a hand to stop the words that he could see forming on her lips, "I know, I should just let the others take care of it, but I can't. Please, I have to help. I'm just in the way back in the Life Station, and there are casualties in there with plenty of bumps and bruises for Cassie to deal with." She smiled fondly down at him, understanding his need to feel useful, "Alright, but we'll be careful, right?" "Right," he returned her smile as the two moved forward together, guiding the wheelchair around the corner of the bulkhead, blinking as they entered a brightly lit chamber, both of them struck by a sudden, jarring volume of sound and movement, "What's happening?" Bojay yelled as he peered through the crowd of technicians now blocking his view, hearing a familiar voice cutting through the noise. "We've got to get him back inside before that harness gives way!" Captain Apollo shouted as he struggled with the airlock controls, watching with horror as a space suited form dangled helplessly from the one remaining clamp that connected the partially shredded harness to the ship, "Starbuck! Hold on!" Apollo turned to a nearby technician as several others continued struggling with the airlock controls, "what about the vacuum collar seal around that service port? Can I get my arm through there to pull him in?" "No good, Sir," even with your suit protecting you, you'd never have the strength to pull him in!" "Maybe /you/ don't, but /I/ do!" Apollo and the technicians turned as Gayla pushed Bojay forward, "Apollo, I may not be used to the legs yet, but I'm pretty good with the arm!" "Do it!" Apollo reacted immediately, helping Gayla to bring Bojay forward, giving him access to the maintenance port with the specialized seal that suctioned firmly to any object that was pushed through it and into the space of the airlock chamber. "Hold me steady!" Bojay cried as he plunged his cybernetic fist through the vacuum seal collar and beyond to grasp one end of a tattered harness strap, pulling with his enhanced strength and bringing the struggling figure inside to collide firmly with the interior wall. The figure responded by flipping over quickly and slamming a heavy glove against the emergency manual door control, forcing the sudden release of the jammed-open hatch and initiating the re-pressurization of the airlock chamber. "The atmosphere's good! Let's get him out of there!" Apollo cried with relief as the interior hatch was pulled open and the suited figure fell forward into their arms, "Starbuck!" the technicians pulled at the clamps securing Starbuck's helmet, freeing him to take a deep, gasping breath of interior air. "Apollo! I thought you said that we'd learned from our mistakes," Starbuck gasped as his breathing gradually slowed to a normal rate, "that frakking virus not only took out my life support, it sabotaged my harness as well! What did you pull me in with, a towing winch? That was a pretty firm whack into the wall, you know!" "Sorry, Starbuck" Bojoy raised his cybernetic arm, a piece of tattered harness still grasped in his fingers, "I guess I don't know my own strength. I, well, I just wanted to lend a hand." "Yeah, sure," Starbuck began to laugh breathlessly, "just don't let it happen again. I mean the jokes, not the rescue work. Bojay, you're my hero, but you have a sense of humour that only a Boray could appreciate!" The others joined in, the laughter infectious in that moment of relief. "Alright, everybody, this emergency's over, let's move on to the next one." Apollo collected himself, his own relief evident on his face, "Crewmen, get this airlock secured! Come on, you guys," he pulled Starbuck to his feet and gestured toward Bojay and Gayla, "let's get to the bridge and see if the Fleet got our message in time. If Komma's plan worked, they should be initiating the triangulation matrix at any moment." Chapter Three, Scene Three "Boomer, have you got the pulse sensor set?" Athena looked up from the notes that Komma had included with the triangulation equipment that now lay spread out on the deck beside her, "We're almost ready to initiate the timer," she proffered a hand to her husband, allowing him to help her up from her crouching position," Once you've got the sensors calibrated, then it's just a matter of waiting for a crewman to give us the timing." "The sensors are all in order," Boomer responded, as he turned to survey the components that the two had carefully assembled on the deck of the Launch Bay Alpha, "let's hope that Tigh got the message and the quarantine was maintained," Boomer placed a reassuring arm over his wife's shoulder, "now we find out if we're breaking for mushies and juice, or working a late shift" "Sir!" both warriors started slightly as a crewman appeared from the maintenance access, "Sergeant Komma sent me to give you this," Boomer and Athena looked down to see a chronometer in the crewman's extended hand, 'this timer's been synchronized with the other two. When the countdown reaches zero, you, Doctor Wilker and Sergeant Komma must all initiate your power cells. That will start the triangulation process and hopefully head off the virus before it can adapt." "Understood, thank you crewman," Boomer accepted the proffered chronometer, nodding as the crewman turned back to the access hatch through which he had entered, "it's set to go in thirty microns!" Boomer's eyes ran once more over the equipment at his feet, "it's good to go, Athena, get ready to trip that switch on my mark!" "Right, ready!" Athena poised her hand over the power switch Boomer counted down with the timer. "...four...three...two...one...NOW!" Athena's fingers pulled down on the switch, "move! The unit's going to get hot!" Boomer pulled his wife away from the equipment, "let's get behind that viper over there! We may need shielding if there's any feedback from the three matrix points merging!" the two rushed behind the viper's thrusters, crouching behind the Delta wing assembly as the sound of the matrix generator turned from a steady hum to a shrill whine. "God, I hope this works," Athena shouted through the noise... " "God, I hope this works," Wilker muttered as he crouched beside his assistant, both of them peering from behind a service shuttle, clenching their jaws in response the overpowering sound... "God, I hope this works," back on the bridge, Komma's words echoed Athena's and Wilker's, just as the landing bay matrix aligned with its counterparts on the bridge and in Wilker's work bay, the whining sound rising in pitch as the three signals merged and the triangulation matrix presented itself as bait for the virus' adaptive algorithm... /SILENCE/ The piercing whine abruptly stopped, leaving the Galactica's occupants to exchange glances and peer cautiously from behind various pieces of equipment and furniture, their ears still ringing. To some, the silence seemed more ominous and uncertain than the painful noise, and no-one seemed willing to break the suspenseful silence. "Is it over?" a small voice called out from the dimly lit hatchway to Adama's office chamber, "Dad? Grandpa?" "I don't know, Boxey," Apollo rose from where he and Adama had been crouching behind the command console, helping the Commander to his feet, then moving to embrace his son as the boy emerged from the hatchway nearby, "Komma? /Is/ it over?" the Captain's green eyes swept their gaze toward the mock-circuitry unit that Wilker had devised to trap and contain the virus, "Did it work?" "I think so, Sir!" Komma rushed over to the containment unit, gesturing to a nearby crewman to help him to secure the box-like structure with a non-conductive outer layer of flexible, polymer-based material, "we have a lot of diagnostics to run and a lot of maintenance to do, but I'm not detecting the virus anywhere," the Sergeant looked up from his work to direct his next remarks to Adama, "Commander, I think it's probably safe for you to contact Colonel Tigh, Sir." "Safe for the rest of us, maybe," Starbuck quipped as he pulled a microscopic cigarillo butt from the small pocket on the sleeve of his rumpled uniform, striking a match and cocking his head to avoid charring his eyebrows, "but not so safe for you, Komma," Starbuck exhaled, choking a bit on the concentrated puff from the twice stubbed cigarillo, and smiling wryly in the Sergeant's direction, "I don't imagine that he's reacted too well to that flare signal." "I think it's going to be a little tense for a while, Lieutenant," Komma sighed as Starbuck patted his shoulder in an exaggerated gesture of concern. "How many times have I told you guys? Don't start a gambling pool without an expert to advise you," Starbuck spread his arms in an expansive gesture, "all you had to do was ask." "Thanks a lot, Sir," Komma responded dryly to Starbuck's friendly smile and rather condescending nod, "I'll keep that in mind." "Tigh!" heads turned as Adama shouted gleefully into the command console microphone, "Tigh! Thank the Lords! The technicians will do a final check and we'll give you the all clear to come back aboard! We'll catch up when you get here!" "Very good, Commander," Tigh's mellow tone came through from the other end of the connection, "I'm eager to catch up with Doctor Wilker and Sergeant Komma as well. I'm hoping that they can brief me on the current flare-signalling protocols!" Adama smiled briefly as he ended the transmission, then turned to address the assembled crew, "Alright, everyone! Let's get this ship back together!" the white-haired warrior smiled again as he surveyed the scene before him. The bridge was in shambles, but his family was together. He shared a glance with Apollo as the younger man carried Boxey back toward the office chamber hatchway to lay him back down for a much-needed sleep... "Hey! What's going on here?" heads turned as Sheba emerged through the main entrance, stepping onto the walkway that spanned the upper portion of the bridge, "What the frak did I miss! I just woke up a few centons ago and the ship is a mess! Did I sleep through a meteor shower? It looks like a herd of equines stampeded through here! What in Hades happened?" "That will take some explaining, my dear" Adama's smiled widened as a gentle chuckle escaped his lips, the effect contagious as the laughter spread throughout the bridge, a sense of relief setting in amongst the crew, while Sheba stood open-mouthed, staring first at her father-in-law, then looking to her husband as though observing a pair of madmen as the Commander repeated his words, struggling not to laugh at his daughter-in-law's obvious confusion, and failing quite badly, "That will take some explaining." Chapter Three, Scene Four "Boxey's almost back to sleep, Father. It's been a long day, to say the least," Apollo had emerged from the small chamber adjacent to the Commander's office to join the older man in the sitting area beneath the exterior view-port, "he's been telling Sheba all about the virus that he and Muffy helped trap," the Captain chuckled softly as he joined Adama, reaching for one of two small glasses of ambrosia that sat invitingly on a nearby tray next to a tumbler of Sheba's favourite soft fruit cider, then settling into a comfortable corner seat, "I still can't believe that Sheba slept through the whole thing, right through that horrible noise of the triangulation procedure no less. I had no idea that the sound-proofing in my quarters was so effective," he said dryly as he took a small sip from the glass in his hand, visibly relaxing as the alcohol gave him a small sense of warmth in his head and his chest, relieving the muscles that had been tense for several centars. "Sleep," Adama spoke as he reached for the second glass of ambrosia, taking a small, satisfying sip of the amber liquid and settling back in his own seat as Apollo had done, "I would imagine that Sheba is in the minority on that front, my Son. Most of us will need quite a bit more sleep after this day that has finally passed. It was not an experience that I care to repeat any time soon." "At least there were no serious injuries to lose sleep over," Apollo said, taking another generous swallow and sinking further into the embrace of the soft upholstery, "though I'm probably going to see that 'keep Tigh busy' signal in my nightmares for a long time to come, not to mention the sight of Starbuck dangling from that airlock by one frayed harness strap." "Yes, a disturbing image to be sure," Adama posited as he stared into his glass, a small thought, a memory of something, edging into his conscious mind, "I, myself, had a rather singular dream last night, before the virus made itself known and all Hades broke loose, very singular indeed. It was probably just a mix of random occasions from my past blurring together, as can happen in one's dreams." "Singular? How so? What was it you were dreaming of...if you don't mind me asking, Father? Neither man noticed as Sheba tip-toed from the small sleeping chamber, pushing the hatchway gently as it closed with a small /swoosh/. The sound of conversation continued as Sheba quietly joined them. She moved to sink into the soft cushions of the bench seat beside Apollo and started to reach for the enticing tumbler of cider that stood alone on the nearby tray, then suddenly felt her limbs freeze, momentarily rendering her unable to move as Adama's words became clear to her ears. "...Cain was standing on the deck in front of what looked like a light-weight shuttle, a long-range single passenger vehicle of some sort, Colonial in design, but unfamiliar to me...," Adama paused at the look on his son's face, and the sudden, slight shock of involuntary movement that Apollo's body had made, "What is it, Apollo? What's the matter? You look as though you've suddenly seen a spectre." "Father, the dream that you're describing to us is almost identical to the one that Sheba described to me a day ago, just as the glitches had started, before the virus took hold. "Identical?" Adama leaned forward in his seat, his brow furrowed, "but how can that be?" "It /was/ the same dream, Adama," Sheba's voice was hushed, her expression slightly shocked, "I was hovering over the deck, but I was also seeing through my father's eyes and speaking with his voice. It was so real. Even now I can almost smell the fuel residue in the landing bay," Sheba felt her legs give way slightly as Apollo reached for her, guiding her down to sit on the bench seat beside him. "The shuttle," Adama spoke cautiously, he and Sheba sharing a gaze of quiet sorrow as each briefly contemplated the one that was no longer there for them, "It was...someone else...and then it was me, but then it wasn't again. It was very odd, yet it seemed so real." "'Her name is Ila', that's what he said," Sheba's lips parted as the breath seemed flow from her lungs, a rushing sound taking over her ears, "That's what I said, or maybe that's what Cain said. I...I looked down and the shuttle was opened and the woman inside was.../Ila/. "Yes, yes it was her," Adama drank slowly from the tumbler in his hand, then gently replaced it onto the mirrored surface of the serving tray, "it /was/ Ila. I saw her, but then I was inside the shuttle somehow, and the hatch opened and there was Cain, with that Bridge Officer of his..." "Tolen, it was Tolen that was standing beside him," Sheba spoke softly, almost fearfully, "they opened the hatch and /Ila/ was there..." "In suspended animation," Adama and his son's wife spoke in unison with one another, staring across the space between them, neither willing to break the gaze, as if fearing that some fragile spell would be broken in the process. "Father?" Apollo cautiously broke through the silence, speaking softly as the others had done, "Father, what could it mean? How can it be?" "I do not know," the older man's voice was heavy with emotion, "I feel that something has happened here that defies any explanation that I can offer," Adama leaned forward in his seat, clasping his hands in front of him, renewing his shared gaze with Sheba, "dear Sheba, my daughter, I do not know the meaning of this, but the Book of the Word does recount instances when the Lords of Kobol spoke to their people through dreams and visions. Perhaps there is a message of some kind, a revelation perhaps, that we are meant to receive." "But, Adama," Sheba leaned forward as Adama had done, "if there's a message to be heard, then why is it not more clear? Are we to believe that Cain and Ila..." the unfinished sentence hung heavily in the space between them. "I have no answers for you, my dear, no answers for either of us," Adama spoke softly, reaching across the small table to grasp her trembling hand in his own, "but if there is even the smallest hope..." Adama paused as Sheba had done, neither of them willing to speak the thought that both of them now shared, /what if they're both still alive, and together, perhaps even looking for us/, Adama loosened his gentle grip on Sheba's hand and leaned back into his seat once more, "for the time being there is no clear action that can be taken, no clear message that can be gleaned from any of this. All we can do is continue to live our lives and hope that these questions may be answered someday." The three of them sat in silence for what seemed like a long time before Sheba and Apollo took their leave of Adama, lifting Boxey from his deep slumber in the small sleeping compartment and retiring to their own quarters for the night, none of them quite sure what to believe and all of them resigned to the fact that, at present, there was indeed no clear action to be taken. Epilogue Commander Adama sat quietly at his desk, leaning back into the familiar embrace of the comfortably worn upholstery of the chair, a weariness having come over him. The day had been long, and the ambrosia had been warming, but had it had also worked to enhance the heaviness in his eyelids, and the sense that he would soon need to retire to his bed. He looked down at a small object in his hand, contemplating his recent conversation with Sheba, and the significance of the dream, the vision that they had shared. "Oh, if only you were out there, if only you had somehow survived ..." Adama allowed himself a rare moment of grief, his tears spilling over as he contemplated all that had brought him to this place, to this time. The Destruction of the Colonies and the deep, hollow, empty sense of loss that he, and so many others had suffered...and for what? For the promise of a new life, a new home? He asked himself the question that he normally avoided, the question that he had no way of answering...what if he had stayed? What if the Fleet had never existed? What if Adama and the survivors that he had rescued...what if they had stayed to fight instead? How many had been left behind to fend for themselves. It had been impossible to save everyone. He and Tigh had known that from the beginning, but they had forced themselves to focus on those that could be saved, to remove them from the threat of imminent danger, before the enemy came back to finish them off, to destroy what they had all assumed to be the last of the Colonial Battlestars. /The last Battlestar/, Adama stood slowly, stretching his long legs and turning to replace the object in his hands to its place of honour on the small shelf behind his work station, /goodnight my love, I shall dream of you tonight/, Adama moved away, walking slowly through the hatchway and moving into the darkness of the sleeping chamber beyond. The chamber was dark, save for the small work light on Adama's desk that cast a soft pool of illumination, the objects on the shelf casting shadows that merged with the darkness behind them. The light reflected back from the frame of the holographic image that Adama had been studying, the soft glow of the lamp seeming to surround the face that smiled out from within the frame, a woman of middle-age with dark blonde to light brown hair, a woman of incredible beauty. /Her name is Ila/ /Fleeing from the Cylon tyranny...the last Battlestar, Galactica, leads a rag-tag fugitive fleet on a lonely quest...a shining planet called...Earth./