Battlestar Galactica: Buried Secrets
Virtual Second Season, Episode 12
By Eric Paddon
Epaddon@aol.com
April 18, 2005

Battlestar Galactica: Buried Secrets

				     Prologue

     The Elite Class section of the Rising Star had no rivals for most
luxurious private accomodations in the Fleet.  The few privileged members
of Colonial Society who still had enough of their own private wealth from
before the Holocaust, had been allowed to maintain the privilege of
putting it to use through the purchase of such spaces by Commander Adama,
with the only provision being that a stipend every sectar be donated to
the Fleet Treasury so that they could at least demonstrate that their
luxury was an earned privilege, and not something they were selfishly
hoarding at the expense of other people.
     For Sire Antipas, as a member of the Council of Twelve, and the
scion of one of the most powerfully influential families in the history
of his home colony of Libra, maintaining such accomodations aboard the
Rising Star would never be a problem to him.  He had more than enough at
his disposal to make sure of that.  And it was something he was
determined to keep for the rest of what he was envisioning to be a long,
healthy and productive life that would one day see him attain what he
regarded as the appropriate trappings of power that befitted the wealth
and luxury he already enjoyed, and had enjoyed from the day of his birth.
     He had to admit privately that he had been fortunate to be in such a
position where he could now sense being on the verge of total power. 
Were it not for the fact that he shared the name of his late father, who
had served as Libra's delegate to the Council of Twelve for some fifteen
yahrens before dying aboard the Battlestar Atlantia in the Destruction,
Antipas doubted if his name ever would have registered as a viable
candidate for the Council when Sire Uri's resignation had created a
vacancy.  But fortunately for him, several Council members, as well as
Commander Adama, were aware of his survival and had all had such a high
regard for his father, that he had found himself thrust to a position of
importance, though from a practical standpoint, one that carried little
actual power given the state of Martial Law that existed.
     Antipas knew that if he were to use his position as a member of the
Council to gain higher power, he could not do something as foolish as
senselessly place himself in opposition to Adama at every possible turn. 
Especially when it was clear that Adama's greatest opponents on the
Council from the outset were from the ranks of those he considered to be
total incompetents like Sires Domra and Geller.  At the outset, he knew
it was more important to cultivate a reputation for fairmindedness, and
if that meant siding with Adama, so be it.
     His policy had paid an important dividend at the time of the Eastern
Alliance affair.  He and Adama's greatest ally on the Council, Sire
Anton, had both opposed the Council's decision to reverse the Martial Law
edicts, and to attempt a dialogue with the captured Alliance Enforcers. 
A course of action that had led to disaster when the rest of the Council
(save Antipas and Anton, who by that point had chosen to boycott Council
meetings in protest over the decision) had been taken hostage during the
Enforcers prison escape.
     To Antipas, the Alliance debacle had been a godsend.  It had left
both of Adama's key opponents, Domra and Geller, humiliated beyond
repair.  Because of their folly in trusting the Alliance that had led to
near death for all of them, Domra and Geller could never have a scrap of
credibility in presenting themselves as alternates to Adama for
leadership of the Fleet.  If they ever wanted to see Adama's power
weakened one day that would mean attaching themselves to someone who had
been left with his reputation intact.  With Anton too old, and a genuine
ally of Adama's, that meant he was the only one Adama's critics could
look too.  And provided he played his cards just right, he knew that in
time he could emerge as a credible voice of opposition to Adama the
instant the Commander made one misstep.
     The decision to release Baltar from the Prison Barge just one sectar
after his escape attempt in conjunction with the Alliance Enforcers
escape, had given him his opportunity.  This was a position he could
oppose Adama on with credibility.  And the outcome of that event had
served his interests even better.  He considered it far too early to make
a genuine grab for power, so from his standpoint it was good that Adama
had been able to defuse the Baltar matter with his decision to reinstate
the death penalty for capital crimes.  The mere act of releasing Baltar
would always be a stigma for Adama that Antipas could one day return to
when the time was really ripe to make his power grab.
     Since then, he had bided his time.  Carefully assessing each new
situation that had come before him and the rest of the Fleet to see if
the time was now ripe to make that new play for power.  Tweaking Adama
from time to time with the careful voice of reasonable dissent on minor
matters, which he knew would always keep the Commander guessing, and
developing what he hoped was a paranoid streak about Antipas and his
motives.  Reining in his allies like Domra and Geller from going too far. 
And finding new ways of cultivating more allies on the Council for the
future.
     That last area had been causing him some concern of late.  As he
rose from the bed and looked back at the sleeping form of Siress Lydia,
lying naked beneath the elegant satin sheets, he could only hope that
this most recent evening of dinner and intimacy had been able to repair
what had in recent sectans become a more distant relationship than he
wanted it to be.  Lydia, after more than a yahren of total passivity on
the Council had finally shown a willingness to align herself with Antipas
when the dashing young Libran had begun an active campaign of seduction
of the stunningly attractive, but slightly middle-aged siress from
Aeries.
     But ever since he and Lydia had found themselves unexpectedly
presiding over a secret tribunal concerning none other than Baltar's
wife, the Aerian siress had grown somewhat more distant from Antipas.  As
if somehow, the experience of hearing the sad, pathetic story of Baltar's
wife, living under a new identity aboard the Senior Ship as a
humanitiarian worker, had stirred a conscience inside her, which was the
last thing Antipas wanted to see.  For him, only the Lydia who had
acquired a reputation for being excessively vain over the yahrens, could
be receptive to his advances.  Were it not for the fact that Lydia's
greatest weakness was for sexual pleasure, he was almost convinced she
would have ended their relationship entirely by this point.
     And so, this past evening had been part of a determined effort to
ingratiate himself to Lydia again, by playing to that weakness of hers. 
The end result had led to a very satisfying evening for them both, and
given how contented she looked as she continued to sleep, he could at
least feel more at ease about this potential problem.  Antipas had no
desire to see this relationship with Lydia last indefinitely, but he
wanted to maintain it for however long he needed the siress's support on
the Council.  And until Adama made the one big misstep he was waiting
most for, that time had not yet come.
     He stretched himself and idly picked up a robe from the chair,
taking his time putting it on as he walked through the compartment that
led to his study.  Having quarters that were not merely luxurious, but
spacious as well, was yet another thing he considered an earned privilege
from birth that he would never consider going without for one billionth
of a micron.  He closed the door behind him, making sure that he would
have the privacy he needed for now.  It was time for him to attend to one
other potential problem area.  One that had always lurked beneath the
surface for five yahrens, but now was rising much too close to it for
comfort.  Especially after he'd received a panicked telecom call the
previous night.
     He switched on his telecom unit, and plugged in the headset so
there'd be no chance of Lydia hearing the other end of the conversation
if she happened to wander in.  Then, after pressing several buttons, he
sat back and waited.
     The party at the other end was on the line before the first ring was
over.
     "Jabez?" Antipas inquired gently, not wanting to reveal the anxious
tension he was feeling inside.
     "Thank the Lords!" the voice on the other end sounded relieved.  "I
was afraid it----,"
     "Calm down, calm down," the Councilman's tone was smooth.  "The fact
that you're there obviously means nothing new has happened."
     "Not yet at least," the man called Jabez said, "But that Corporal
Komma is the most inquisitive person I've ever come across.  Even more
than those officers were last sectan.  I really get the impression he
knows something     The others at least were looking for something else."
     "It's possible," Antipas conceded, "You are convinced that Colonial
Security will be conducting a full search soon?"
     "Komma said he would have all the papers authorized by the end of
the next cycle.  And while Council Security was willing to intercede on
my behalf to keep him from searching, they still had to acquiesce to his
demand that I not be allowed to leave the Amargi until this matter is
resolved."
     "That does present a problem," Antipas nodded, "Your movements about
the ship are not restricted though?"
     "No," Jabez said in a tone that indicated he was shaking his head. 
"Not unless I've been formally accused, and all Komma has is a little
suspicion rooted in my unauthorized radio wave emissions."
     "And he's not convinced that your vid-com monitor is the cause."
     "No, he isn't.  He rattled off a whole technical explanation as to
why it couldn't be the cause of that."
     "Queen Herneith's most enduring legacy," Antipas sighed ruefully, "A
jeweled arm bracelet of the First Dynasty of Libra following the
settlement.  Complete with a technological memento from Kobollian society
that survived the destruction of all Kobollian technology by the twelve
tribes after they settled the Colonies.  Whoever would have suspected its
properties could still be so....potent after all these millennia."
     "I need to get that piece out of my quarters before Komma returns
with authorization to search." Jabez said, the nervousness returning to
his voice.  "If the radio emissions cease after the vid-com is
confiscated that has to satisfy his essential point."
     "True," Antipas nodded, "I suggest you remove Queen Herneith's
bracelet from whatever little corner it resides in, and keep it close to
your person for the rest of the day.  There is a way to get it off the
Amargi before the cycle is out."
     "How?"
     "Just wait," the Libran Councilman said softly, and gently.  "One of
my own men will come by later.  Around the mid-day meal period.  Be
prepared to see someone asking for you, and mentioning my name.  That's
all."
     "Thank you, Sire Antipas," Jabez sounded relieved, "I really
appreciate this.  You've done so much for me these last five yahrens."
     "Don't say anything more," he gently interrupted, "Once the jewel is
out of your possession, I will make arrangements later that you be
rewarded for services well-rendered in safeguarding this share of the
collection."
     "I'll be waiting," there was a click to indicate that Jabez had
broken the connection.  For a few microns, Antipas continued to hold the
telecom in his hand, and then smiled faintly as he placed it back on its
mount.
     "Something important?"
     He turned around and saw that Lydia had entered the room.  She
hadn't bothered to put on any of her clothes, and had simply made due by
wraping a sheet around her body.
     "Nothing." he smiled disarmingly at her, "Just reconfirming an
appointment I have later this cycle."
     "Much later, I hope," her voice suddenly took on a sensuous whisper,
showing no subtlety as to what it was she wanted right now.
     "Even if it weren't, I'd see to it," Antipas took a step toward her,
feeling a large measure of satisfaction inside.  After several sectans of
wavering because of that Tribunal session, it seemed like he finally had
Lydia back in his corner again.  And all it had taken was a simple
zeroing in on her greatest weakness.  Just as he needed to keep zeroing
in on Adama's weakness to seize his ultimate opportunity one day.
     As he took the attractive, auburn-haired siress by the arm though,
and guided her back into his bed chamber, he also knew that there was
only one weakness of his own that his enemies could easily zero in on and
turn all of his careful plans to ashes.  And his conversation with Jabez
had revealed how for the first time, that was becoming dangerously close
to reality.
     Before the day was out, he intended to make sure that problem was
successfully defused.

                    Chapter One

     Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen.......
     Over and over, Sheba counted off as she lay on her back and lifted
the steel weights up and down.  Ordinarily, when she came to the Training
Room to get herself into shape, she would put the setting at 100 kilos. 
Today though, her first day back after being released from the Life
Station, she had placed the setting at 125.  She was determined to get
herself back to full strength by the time she took her first regular
patrol again in two cycles, and putting herself through a more strenuous
workout would help towards that goal.
     Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen.....
     "Anyone tell you how beautiful you look when you're working up a
good sweat?"
     Sheba set the weights down and turned her head to the left, where
she could see Apollo standing in front of the compartment door.  Her
fiancee had his arms folded and was smiling mischievously.
     "Do you always believe in entering without giving fair warning?" she
said with mock chiding.
     "Hey, this is a public room for all warriors.  Even if we do have it
all to ourselves right now," he stepped toward her.
     Sheba rose to a sitting position and grabbed a towel to wipe the
sweat off her forehead.
     "So how do you feel?" Apollo's tone grew serious.
     "Perfect.  No pain, no soreness.  Chalk up another gold cluster for
the wonders of modern medical equipment in repairing broken bones and
internal injuries." she shook her head and grabbed a bottle of water
perched on a nearby stool.  "I shudder to think of what it was like a few
hundred yahrens ago when those kind of injuries I had would have meant
sectars of recuperation time to heal properly."
     "True," Apollo said as his eyes wandered down and took in how
perfectly toned her body was, "And one thing's for certain.  They make
sure they don't leave any....visible scars when they have to do a repair
job."
     Sheba drank almost half the water bottle's contents before setting
it down.  "No, but they can't do a thing about the mental scars.  I can't
begin to tell you how ticked off I am about how that whole thing
happened.  I should have trusted my instincts that I wasn't going to miss
that missile with my firepower, and taken an extra micron to check my
scanner regarding what the premature detonation would have done.  Then I
could have had time to pull away at max turbo and been out of there
safely."
     "Come on, Sheba," Apollo put a hand on her shoulder.  "No one could
have reacted that fast.  You weren't taking time to line up the Ziklagi
missile to begin with.  Where would you have found that extra micron to
take into account what the impact on the surrounding environs would have
been?"
     "Good warriors figure out how to dig that extra micron out when it
matters most," she picked up the water bottle again and finished it off. 
"I might be good enough to have survived that whole thing, but it was
possible to get out of there completely intact if all of your instincts
are honed in at the right centon.  I guess all the idle sectars since
being in that kind of open combat affected my judgment."
     Apollo sighed, deciding not to argue with her any longer.  This was
one of those times when Sheba always demonstrated that she was truly her
father's daughter.  Always self-critical to a fault because like
Commander Cain, she was convinced that there was a level of unmatched
perfection she was capable of achieving in her duties.  
     If anything, Apollo thought, it was a trait of hers that had made
him feel attracted to her to begin with.  To see that kind of intensity
and focus was something he'd never seen in a female warrior before he'd
met Sheba.  At least not in a way that he could genuinely admire and
appreciate.  In his academy days, he could remember female warriors in
training who would always be aspring to show that they could do the tough
jobs of flying vipers and being battle-ready as good as any man.  The
only problem was that too often, Apollo saw those would-be warriors
equating the need to be as good as a man, with sacrificing all traces of
their feminity.  
     He could never forget the worst example of that.  Cadet Thrace.  A
member of his class at the Academy who wore her hair shorter than most of
the men, and even was known to indulge in fumarellos and late night
pyramid games, and who was also known to use 'frack' and 'felgercarb' in
almost all of her sentences.  If that wasn't enough to turn Apollo off,
there was also that annoying phrase of hers whenever he or anyone else
annoyed by her brash attempts at masculine imitation would try to give
her some gentle words of wisdom.  Without batting an eye, Cadet Thrace
would always lean back and with almost sneering contempt say the same
thing.  "Deal with it."
     Though some of Apollo's fellow cadets had actually admired her brash
demeanor, it didn't take long for Cadet Thrace to alienate everyone in
her class once it became clear that she had no great skills as a warrior
whatsoever.  That made it clear to Apollo that Thrace's unfeminine
behavior in all other areas of life was all part of a deluded scheme to
get her to think that by acting like a man, she would supposedly improve
her skills as a warrior.  And that was the kind of behavior Apollo could
never begin to have any respect for.  It didn't surprise him that
ultimately, Thrace washed out of the program altogether.
     Sheba's nothing like that, he thought with admiration as he watched
her get up and stretch herself.  She has the genuine talent, and she's
still proud to be a woman.
     "Is there something you needed to see me about?" she asked as she
touched her right foot with her left arm.
     "Matter of fact, yes," Apollo folded his arms and his tone became
all business.  "You're aware that Starbuck is still suspended from flight
duty as a result of his ah.....outburst on the Bridge while we were still
searching for you."
     "I heard.  I was kind of surprised, actually, because I would have
thought it'd be you who'd have ended up in that position."
     "Yeah.  Well anyway, the Colonel just told me that before Starbuck
gets cleared to go back to full flight duty, he has to do one final thing
and that's teach some special flight instruction sessions for a class of
one."
     "Class of one?" Sheba frowned as she finished stretching and then
pulled out the fastener from her hair so it now fell down to its normal
shoulder length.
     "Yeah.  It seems that Sire Feo, esteemed member of the Council of
Twelve, has a nephew named Pelias who was put on the fast track to a
commission in the new Warrior Training Structure as a result of
his....family connections," he put some disdain on the final two words. 
"The only problem, is that Pelias has had something of an attitude
problem and has given all of the Training Instructors one headache after
another.  Well, since the Council doesn't like the idea of seeing lack of
discipline in our new generation of pilots, especially when one of them
is a Councilman's nephew, the Colonel made the decision that the problem
cases would now be the responsibility of more senior warriors. 
Specifically, the deputy squadron leaders, which of course, includes
Starbuck."
     Apollo then went silent, waiting to see how long it would take Sheba
to realize what was coming next.  As soon as he saw her eyes narrow five
microns later, he knew she'd figured it out.
     "Wait a micron, are you trying to tell me that I'm going to have to
handle one of these problem recruits too?"
     "Not just one I'm afraid," Apollo sighed, "You've been assigned to
handle the three woman cadets who've been the biggest problem."
     "I don't believe this," Sheba said with disgust, "I've been busting
my astrum to get myself back to duty as quickly as possible, and now I
find I'm going to have to play school teacher to the problem children?"
     "Unfortunately, the fact that you were recovering was why the
Colonel decided to have all the deputy squadron leaders handle this. 
Starbuck was convenient, being on suspension, and so were you, just
getting out of the Life Station."
     "Fine, that means we'll have less reason to be ticked off about this
then the deputies of Silver Spar and Green." she paused, "You could have
been a little more direct, Apollo."
     "I know, it's just that I've got to break the bad news to Starbuck,
and I wanted you to be there to help me out and let him know you're in
the same fix too.  That might keep him from breaking a few objects."
     "Never mind him.  I feel like breaking a few objects.  If the
Colonel hadn't put a halt on squadron transfers a while back,  I would
have been out of Red Squadron and this wouldn't have fallen under my
jurisdiction at all." she then shook her head.  "I'm amazed they'd assign
a Councilman's son to him.  Starbuck's the last person who'd know how to
discipline someone."
     "When he's got an order to do it, he rises to the occasion.  And
because Pelias is the worst of the bunch, they figured he'd only be open
to someone who isn't known for being too disciplined to begin with."
     "Two rebels connecting with each other?" she smirked faintly as she
draped the towel around her shoulders.
     "Could be.  Anyway, that's how things are.  Hopefully it won't take
more than a sectan or so at best."
     "Ah well," an air of resignation and acceptance seemed to come over
her, "What's another setback on the road to our sealing ceremony?"
     "Soon," Apollo reached out and squeezed her hand, "No more than two
or three sectans from now.  I don't want to wait much longer.  Especially
now that Boxey's already feeling comfortable enough to jump the gun and
start thinking of you as his mother."
     She relaxed, "When you told me about what he said when you came to
see me in the Life Station, I felt like crying the happiest tears of my
life."  She then looked at him in the eye, "I really want to think of him
as my son, Apollo.  I know I have to be able to make him feel as
comfortable with me as he'd have felt if Serina were still here."
     "You'll do it," he squeezed her hand again, "I wouldn't have asked
you to marry me if I didn't think you could."
     They shared one quick kiss and then both of them knew it was time to
get back to work.
     "All right, Captain," Sheba said, "Let's not keep Starbuck waiting."


     Adama had just finished his journal entry for the morning when the
chime to his quarters signaled the arrival of Colonel Tigh from the
Bridge.
     "Bojay just made his report on Silver Spar's patrol sweep of our
rear flank last night," the executive officer said, "No trace of Ziklagi
pursuit since we left their sector."
     "Good," the commander nodded, "If we get just two more cycles worth
of reports like that, we can put an end to those rear guard patrols and
get back to concentrating on what lies in front of us."
     "You know something, Adama," Tigh shook his head with an ironic
chuckle, "After what they put us through, I honestly wouldn't know what
I'd rather see happen if the Cylons ever enter their sector.  What would
be better for us if they started fighting each other?"
     "I don't know," Adama said, "But if they ever did encounter each
other, let's just hope that they do start fighting each other.  Because
no matter which side won, either of those two scenarios is better than
the prospect of them joining forces out of mutual self-interest."
     "Lords help us all if it came to that," the executive officer
shuddered.
     "I'm sure they would, but I wouldn't want to have to call on them
for help because of a situation like that," Adama leaned back in his
chair.
     The chime then sounded again, and Adama frowned, not expecting
another visitor at this point.  "Enter."
     The door opened and both the commander and executive officer were
surprised to see the awkward looking form of Chameleon enter.
     "I'm.....very sorry to trouble you, Commander, especially because of
what's.....happened before, but-----,"
     "Chameleon, who gave you authorization to come here?" Adama cut him
off, his tone filled with just a trace of curtness.
     "Well.....sir, this does pertain to a legal matter that I had to
address with you....."
     "Very well," Adama came forward in his chair.  "What do you want?"
     "Well," the man who had finally been forced to publicly admit the
truth of being Starbuck's father recently, cleared his throat, "This
concerns the matter of Siress Blassie as my designated rehabilitator. 
I....really would appreciate it if you could see to it that I be allowed
to name a new rehabilitator in her place."
     "Oh?" this Adama hadn't expected, "Has something happened between
the two of you?"
     "Well, actually Commander, the truth is, I've----," Chameleon took a
breath, "I've become involved with another woman, and um.....the fact
that Blassie is my official rehabilitator has complicated that situation
in a way that I feel needs to be resolved through official channels."
     "I see.  You.....want this other woman to be designated as your new
rehabilitator so that you can avoid any further unpleasantries with
Siress Blassie."
     "Yes, that would help.  Commander, I feel bad that I have to do
this, because Siress Blassie has been very kind to me, and I haven't
anything negative to say about her.  It's just that.....well----,"
     "I don't think you need to explain any further, Chameleon," Adama
felt glad that this had nothing to do with the still unresolved matter
between Chameleon and Starbuck.  Starbuck had made his decision to have
nothing to do with Chameleon for now because of his anger over how the
one-time con man had concealed his true identity as Starbuck's father
from him, and Adama had long ago vowed that Starbuck and Chameleon could
only settle that matter with no interference from him.  "You would like
me to formally approve this.....woman you're now involved with as your
new rehabilitator."
     "If that could be arranged, it would be most appreciated." 
Chameleon's expression revealed just how much he was hoping the Galactica
commander would say yes.
     "Very well," Adama said, "Give me her name and after an appropriate
background check, I think that can be arranged."
     "Thank you, Commander.  Her name is Claudia.  She works on the
Senior Ship as a social worker amongst the infirmed."
     For just two microns, Adama was visibly jolted.  And then it passed
quickly from his face.  In his anxious state, Chameleon hadn't noticed,
but Tigh, standing off to one side, did notice and immediately frowned.
     "Claudia," Adama said slowly and carefully, "I do believe I had the
pleasure of meeting her recently."
     "Yes, she mentioned that you had given her a decoration for her
services aboard the Senior Ship.  That's....well that's why I figured
that if I mentioned I was seeing her now, you wouldn't think of objecting
to her becoming my new rehabilitator."  
     "Well....no.  Since....Claudia's reputation speaks for itself, no
background check would be needed.  I....will see to it immediately, and
you may let Siress Blassie know that she is released from any further
obligation to you."  He paused, "You...plan on sharing accomodations with
Claudia now?"
     "Well....yes, but believe me Commander, ours is a relationship based
on what we regard as more important things in life."
     "I'm certain of that," Adama nodded, "Thank you for bringing this to
my attention, Chameleon."
     "Yes.  Well, I only would have come to you concerning an official
matter.  Not because.....well, you know."  Chameleon purposefully trailed
off, clearly not wanting to mention the subject of Starbuck in the
commander's presence.
     "Yes, I understand.  Good day, Chameleon."
     "Good day, Commander," the elderly man bowed in gratitude, "Thank
you."
     As soon as Chameleon was gone, Tigh gave Adama a quizzical look,
"What was that all about?"
     "What?" Adama had lowered his head in contemplation, and seemingly
had forgotten about the executive officer's presence.
     "You seemed a bit startled when he told you who he wanted to be his
new rehabilitator."
     "I was," he shook his head in disbelief, "This could really be
problematic over the long-run."
     "I don't understand," Tigh's confusion deepened, "You said
this.....Claudia had been decorated by you for her humanitatian work. 
What could be problematic about her?"
     Adama sighed uneasily.  In order to explain things adequately to
Tigh he would have to violate a confidence and tell the executive officer
that the humanitarian worker named Claudia was once Baltar's wife,
Ayesha.  And at that instant, he wasn't comfortable with the thought of
doing that, even with someone he trusted like Tigh.
     Lords of Kobol, the Commander thought.  I think for the first time
I'm beginning to understand what Cassiopeia was going through when
Chameleon forced her to lie about the test results.  Or what Chameleon
himself was going through when he didn't want to tell the truth to
Starbuck.
     "Tigh," Adama said gently, "I.....really can't explain the reason
right now.  Claudia isn't a security risk or anything like that, but
there is a......complication of sorts that could prove awkward down the
line.  That's all."
     Tigh didn't respond.  It disappointed him on one level that Adama
wasn't willing to be open with him about this matter, but at the same
time his regard for the commander was so great, that he knew that any
reason for not telling him something had to be a good one.
     "I guess there's nothing else we need to go over.  I'll see to it
that Bojay's full action report gets passed along within the centar."
     "Thank you, I appreciate that.  Good day, Tigh."
     As soon as the executive officer was gone, Adama was back to
contemplating again over the awkwardness of this new situation.  He knew
that a lot of it depended on whether Chameleon already knew about
Claudia's past identity or not, but he was quite certain the ex-wagerer
and con artist didn't know a thing about that.  When he had dismissed
Claudia after the secret tribunal he and Antipas and Lydia had presided
over, every indication was that she wanted to finally start anew with no
further thought of her troubled past.  It was unthinkable to imagine
Claudia telling Chameleon about who she really was.
     Maybe, he thought, this is the kind of information that could make
Starbuck better appreciate what Chameleon's had to go through.  And maybe
that could finally get him to take the first step toward resolving things
with his father.  But if I did that, I'd be violating a confidence with
Claudia and risk exposing her past to people who have no business
learning about it.
     Finally, Adama shook his head in the negative.  As tempting as it
was to take advantage of this situation to get a problem close to home
solved, he couldn't do that at someone else's expense.  Claudia's secret
was something she wanted to keep buried.  Did he have the right to unbury
it for the sake of someone else?  It was hard for him to justify that
position at all.
     But maybe at the very least, he could at some point reverse his
earlier policy of total non-intervention and instead  try to give
Starbuck some gentle encouragement in the direction of making peace with
his father.  Without offering any hint of what he knew about Chameleon's
new romantic interest.  Perhaps he owed Starbuck that much.
     Several centons later, Tigh was in touch with him again, this time
from the Bridge, and Adama knew it was time to get back to more immediate
matters of concern.


     Although he held the designation of Chief of Colonial Security,
Lieutenant Didion seldom had any opportunities to exercise meaningful
authority in the position.  Colonial Security Guards were a well-trained
unit that knew how to discipline and police themselves when it came to
their duties so much, that the only role the designated chief really
served was to coordinate roster schedules and serve as a pipeline to the
higher levels of command if a guard was unable to communicate with higher
authority.  When he saw Corporal Komma approaching him, he instinctively
knew it had to be for the latter reason since he'd already received word
from Colonel Tigh earlier in the morning that he would not be available
to handle any requests from Security that were not deemed of "Priority
One" level significance, and that he, Didion, would have to take care of
them himself.
     "At ease, Komma," he said in response to the corporal's salute,
"What's on your mind?"
     "Sir, this is a follow-up to my request for search permit of subject
Jabez's quarters on the Amargi."
     "Ah yes," the security chief nodded as he punched several buttons on
the computer terminal located on his desk.  "You're convinced he's
connected to the Libran Antiquities museum heist?"
     "Yes sir, I am.  In fact, I'm convinced that he has in his
possession, a specific artifact called the Herneith bracelet."
     "You were also convinced a few sectans ago that a sanitation worker
aboard the Livestock Ship named Anglin was also a likely suspect, but
nothing came of that," Didion's tone was skeptical. 
     "Nothing to justify a search, sir," Komma corrected.  "But this is
different.  In fact, I think it's possible that if we nab this guy Jabez,
that'll finally open up some momentum on the Anglin front."
     "And maybe wrap it all up by flushing out Dravius, who set the whole
thing in motion to begin with, right?" Didion smirked to indicate that he
still wasn't impressed.  "Look Komma, I think what you're doing is
admirable, because Kobol knows how much I'd like to see this whole matter
finaly get wiped off the cold case file, but I just can't see you having
enough to justify horning in on Council Security's territory by going
over their heads."
     "Well, naturally if Council Security had the sense to take up the
matter themselves instead of being so damned protective of their
territory----,"
     "Take it easy, Komma, you're not talking to a blackshirt," Didion
held up a hand and chuckled disarmingly.  "Tell you what I will do.  I'll
take your file on this and head over to the Amargi myself and see if I
can get their cooperation.  Maybe my title can get them to be less
provincial, and if that doesn't work then by tomorrow I'll go to Tigh and
try to get his okay on a formal directive."
     "I just hope by then Jabez hasn't had enough time to dispose of the
bracelet and who knows what else he's sitting on."
     "Well, at the very least you've got him confined to the Amargi, and
that's not too big a target to find a new hiding place.  Consider that,"
the security chief rose from his desk.  "I'll keep you posted on what I
find out."


     As soon as Lydia had dressed and departed, Antipas wasted no time
getting down to the serious business that now awaited him.  It was time
for him to call on the man he had a nickname for that he never openly
revealed to anyone.  "The Troubleshooter." 
     Fifteen centons later, the Troubleshooter had arrived in his
quarters.  He was a formidable looking man of height and build, but not
exaggeratingly so that he could attract too much attention in a crowd. 
Brown hair fell somewhat unkempt over his forehead and stretched down to
his shoulders.
     "Thank you for coming, Kimo," the Libran said pleasantly, "I need
your services today."
     "You name it, I do it," the man named Kimo said without hesitation. 
He had once had an undistinguished career as a professional grappler on
Libra, before Antipas had hired him to be an unofficial bodyguard in his
personal entourage that managed to escape the Destruction.
     "Which is why I always know I can count on you," Antipas smiled. 
"You're to pay a visit to the Amargi within the centar.  Do not use the
special pass, pay for your travel ducat in cash.  I will of course
reimburse you later.  You're to go to the comissary area and look for
this man."  
     He pulled a holopicture out of the top drawer of his desk and held
it up for Kimo to study.  After a few microns he put it back in the
drawer and then carefully locked it.
     "He'll have something on his person he'll be waiting to give you,"
Antipas said.  "But once you make contact, you're to make sure the two of
you are both in a service corridor, and that you are both quite alone."
     "And then?"
     "You're to give him this," Antipas tossed him a pack of cubit
certificates that were bound by a thick band.  "And tell him it's an
advance payment on some compensation he'll be entitled to later.  And
that if he values his own safety he's to avoid his quarters for the rest
of the cycle.  Because, my dear, Kimo, that's where you'll need to spend
a few centons alone before you leave the Amargi."
     Antipas went over to the far wall of his chambers and unlocked a
special safe.  He pulled out a small square object and tossed it over to
Kimo, who instantly recognized it and alertly snatched it out of the air.
     "Relax, Kimo.  The safety is on." the Councilman smiled, "Set a
delay for ten centons.  That will give you more than enough time given
the proximity of his quarters to the docking bay."
     "It should," Kimo nodded as he stuck the explosive charge in a
specially concealed compartment inside his left boot and zipped it shut. 
"I won't forget to check the shuttle schedule before I get to work on
this."
     "I didn't think you'd forget a detail like that, Kimo.  That's why I
always trust you instinctively when I need you for a job like this.  Just
remember to bring the object he gives you back to me immediately as soon
as you're off that ship."
     As soon as the Troubleshooter had left, Antipas sat down in his
plush, oversized chair, raised his arms over his head, and finally felt a
sense of satisfaction that everything was going to go smoothly for him
this day.

                    Chapter Two

     The comissary aboard the Amargi was like most eating facilities in
the Fleet.  Big enough to handle the responsibility of feeding those who
worked and lived aboard the vessel, but exuding a generally cheerless
environment with its stark, metallic furnishings, and it's edible, but
largely low quality food.
     As the crowds began to file in for the mid-day meal period, the man
called Jabez stood in a companionway just off the main entrance, watching
and waiting.  The folds of his gray tunic concealing the item that had
been threatening exposure of him in recent days, and which he now hoped
to have off his hands as soon as possible.
     Sooner or later Antipas would probably want to get some of this
back, he thought.  At least I should still be able to hold on to the rest
of my share.  Lord knows I've earned that much.
     He stopped and dwelled further on that last thought.  Damn right,
I've earned it.  Me, Dravius, Anglin and Spaulding.  We all earned a lot
more than we ever got out of the whole rotten deal.  And all the while,
Antipas got to enjoy all the benefits.
     He knew he had to keep himself from harboring any trace of
bitterness toward Antipas though, because he had to keep the man who had
been the ringleader of the whole operation as an ally at all costs.  The
first sign of trouble, and he knew that Antipas was liable to cut him
loose as he knew had happened with Dravius.
     "Jabez?"
     He looked up and saw standing across from him the man he knew
Antipas had sent over.
     "Yes," he stepped forward and kept his voice calm.  "I believe I
have something for you."
     "Indeed," Kimo said quietly and came toward him so that his
formidable physique stood between Jabez and any would-be passerby in the
corridor.  His left hand was outstretched.
     Without missing a beat, Jabez pulled out the object from inside his
tunic and in less than a micron had placed it in the Troubleshooter's
hand.  Quickly, Kimo shoved the arm bracelet inside an inner pocket of
his tunic and zipped it shut.
     "Sire Antipas mentioned compensation," Jabez started.
     "Here," Kimo pulled the pack of cubit notes out of the hip pocket of
his pants and with sleight of hand shoved it in the side pocket of
Jabez's tunic.  It had all been so fast, no one could have ever seen
anything change hands unless they had been an inch away.  "Don't count it
until later."
     "I won't," Jabez started to move off.
     "There's one other thing," Kimo called after him, causing Jabez to
stop in his tracks. 
     "Yes?"
     "Don't go back to your quarters," the Troubleshooter injected just a
faint ominous note into his voice.
     "Why not?" Jabez's eyebrows narrowed.
     "Don't ask." 
     "I have a right to know-,"
     "No you don't," Kimo stepped toward him, and his voice grew more
menacing.  "You really don't want to know."
     "But----."
     "Do I make myself clear?" Kimo was now an inch away from Jabez and
looking down at him, emphasizing the six inch difference in height
between them.
     Slowly, Jabez backed away and weakly nodded.
     "Good," Kimo smiled an insincere smile, "Enjoy the rest of the cycle
away from your quarters."
     And then, the Troubleshooter turned and disappeared around the
corner.  Jabez leaned back against the wall, and idly touched the band of
cubit notes in his inner pocket, wondering if his problems were only
beginning rather than ending.


     "I have to be honest, Captain, I don't understand the obstinancy
over this matter."
     Straik, the captain of the Amargi, sat across from Didion with arms
folded, his lips tightened in a grimace.  "Lieutenant, I think it's
rather obvious.  The Amargi is a civilian ship, and not subject to these
intrusions by military security."
     "But when we have relevant evidence to justify a search, that should
at least entitle us to some cooperation so that it can be handled on a
joint basis," Didion tried not to let his exasperation surface.
     "Yes, relevant evidence.  That's the key," Straik leaned forward, "I
already explained that to Corporal Komma the other day, and I'm sorry he
didn't make my position clear to you."
     "He made it quite clear, in fact," Didion also leaned forward.  "But
I thought that my presence as Chief of Colonial Security would make you
understand better the seriousness of this situation.  We are talking
about a potential link to a major theft of rare art treasures, and by
extension a potential link to the matter of a man who is wanted in
connection with the murder of two people aboard the Rising Star."
     "Since Chief Jabez is not Dravius, the second matter isn't worth
mentioning."  Straik scoffed.  "As to the first, why should I regard the
presence of potential unauthorized radio emissions as a subject of
concern?"
     "Well you could have helped matters a great deal on that point by
confiscating his vid-com device that he said was the cause of all that,"
Didion's patience was now running out.  "At the very least we'd be able
to see if these emissions continue even after the supposed cause of them
is gone."
     "I will not stand for this continued persecution of one of my most
valued crewmen!" Straik rose to his feet and thundered, "This is my ship,
and any matters of potential concern will remain within the proper
channels.  And if I so much as see you or anyone else from Colonial
Security again, Lieutenant, I'll be filing a formal protest with the
Council."
     "Then be prepared, Captain," Didion held his ground as he rose,
"Because as soon as I return to the Galactica, I intend to seek formal
approval for a search of Jabez's quarters from Commander Adama.  And I
would remind you that he also has the authority to review your fitness to
continue in command of this and any other ship in the Fleet."
     "Is that a threat, Lieutenant?" Straik snapped.
     "No, just stating the obvious, Captain," Didion added some frost to
the title, "Good day."
     The instant the Security Chief was outside in the corridor, he gazed
up and shook his head in total disgust.  Even though he had a more
cautious, diplomatic side that sometimes made some people think he had
more in common with the mindset of a Council Security blackshirt,
Didion's own views deep inside were completely on the same wavelength as
that of the men he had responsibility over.  To him, it was simply a
matter of taking on a public face of concilation that the average
Colonial Security guard might not instinctively show.  Straik's
unyielding attitude on the subject marked the first time he'd ever felt
on the verge of dropping the conciliation act entirely.
     Maybe it's time I show the men how much I really am on their side,
he thought.  And the best way he could demonstrate that would be to pay a
visit to Jabez's quarters himself.


     Kimo nonchalantly entered Jabez's empty quarters and immediately
made his way to the back of the room.  He gave a rap on the metal of the
bulkhead and could feel that extra cold touch that was characteristic of
a wall that only had the vacuum of space on the other side.  That was
enough to tell him why Antipas had given him a simple medium level
charge, which would be enough to expose this room to the vaccuum and send
all of its contents out into the void if they weren't otherwise destroyed
by the blast.
     He pulled out the charge and carefully affixed it to the wall. 
Then, he checked his chronometer.  He needed to make sure he didn't start
the timer until he could be sure he'd have a chance at boarding a shuttle
that would get him off the Amargi before the explosion took place.
     A centon passed.  Then two.  Finally, it was time to activate it. 
He calmly pressed the trigger that began a ten centon countdown.
     Kimo rose and headed for the door.  He was five feet away from it,
when suddenly it opened and he saw the uniformed figure of Didion
standing in the entryway.
     "Hey!" Didion blurted, as he realized right away that the man in
front of him was not Jabez.
     Kimo dashed toward the entryway with his arms raised and poised to
deliver a powerful blow like he had done so many times in the past as a
professional grappler.  But Didion immediately knew what Kimo had in mind
and promptly ducked low and charged toward him, managing to catch him off
guard and tackle him to the ground.  They struggled about on the floor,
as Didion desperately tried to grab hold of his laser pistol so he could
use it, but Kimo managed to deliver a blow to the guard's arm and keep
him from reaching for the weapon.
     The Troubleshooter managed to get on top of Didion and punched him
hard in the face, hoping he could act quick enough so that his own face
wouldn't register in the guard's memory.  Then, he bolted back to his
feet and headed for the door.  But Didion, even in his dazed and battered
state still managed to grab his laser pistol from the floor and fire one
shot blindly that managed to strike the fleeing Kimo in the back.  The
one-time grappler immediately dropped to the floor.
     Slowly, Didion got to his feet and stood over the stunned,
unconscious form of Kimo, shaking his head in disgust.  Rubbing his
bruised eye, which he knew would be turning black soon enough, he
readjusted his pistol to the kill setting and then angrily shoved Kimo
with his foot.
     "Get up, you little snitrod," he hissed, "Right now."
     It took a half centon before Kimo finally began to return to
consciousness, letting out a moan of pain.
     "Up!" Didion snarled.  "Now!"
     Kimo looked up and saw the snub of the laser pistol pointed right at
his face.  He glanced to his right, back toward the wall and then a wave
of horror rushed over him.
     "My God," he whispered, "You've got to get me out of here."
     "Shove that," Didion said angrily and pointed his pistol against his
forehead, "You start talking right now.  What are you doing in this
room?"
     "No....you've got to let me go!" a pleading tone entered Kimo's
voice.
     "Boy, you sure don't act so brave and strong when someone else has
you cornered, do you?" Didion smirked with satisfaction.  Already, he
knew that no one in his group was ever going to confuse him with being a
bureautician or a blackshirt after this!
     "You don't understand," Kimo began to rise, "We've both got to get
out of here!"
     "Sit down!" Didion roared and jammed his pistol against Kimo's
forehead again.  "You move just one step, and I'll kill you right here
and now.  You were looking for some things Jabez has stashed in here,
weren't you?"
     Kimo's face was one of tortured confusion.  Not knowing what he
could do at this point.  If he told Didion that there was an explosive
device in the room waiting to go off, he'd face interrogation that would
force him to implicate Antipas, and he knew perfectly well that Antipas
had another Troubleshooter waiting in the wings who'd be sent to take
care of him before he could do any damage to the Libran sire's
reputation.  If he attempted to run, by this point Didion would know
enough of his face to circulate a description that would all but force
him into a life of permanent fugitive status.  And he knew Antipas would
be willing to do little, if anything, to help him out of that kind of
situation. 
     He had a multitude of options facing him, and all of them were bad
for him.  Was there any way of finding one that would give him a ray of
hope for escape?
     "I'll say this again," Didion said sharply, "You were looking for
some things Jabez has stashed in here, weren't you?"
     Slowly, Kimo looked up at Didion.  "Yes," he said calmly.  "Yes, I
was."
     "I thought so."  The Security Chief's satisfaction deepened.  "A
certain stash of rare art treasures, right?"
     "Yes," Kimo nodded fervently, "Yes, I'm aware of what he has stashed
here."
     "On your feet," Didion poked the pistol at him, "You're going to
help me find where they are, and then you're going to explain how you
know about them."
     "Of course, of course," Kimo's voice was now completely meek and
deferential.  "Believe me, Lieutenant, I'm on your side.  I.....I know I
didn't act that way at first, it's just....I wasn't expecting......"
     "You can reconcile all that contradictary felgercarb later, buddy,"
Didion wasn't about to drop his guard, "Let's just find those Libran
goodies first."
     "Sure, sure, you're absolutely right," Kimo threw up his hands in
resigned defeat.  "I think....back here toward the bulkhead."
     "You lead the way," Didion kept the pistol trained.
     "Of course," Kimo repeated as his mind raced ahead as to what his
next move would be and when.  He came up to the bulkhead, where he could
see from the corner of his eye, the active charge attached to the wall. 
If he didn't act in the next few microns, Didion was going to notice it
and the game would be over for him.
     "I think he found a way of concealing some of them inside the
plating."
     "How could he do that, when there isn't anything between that
and----."
     "Well that's the ingenious part of the whole thing," Kimo turned
around and said excitedly, "You see, if you look right here down by the
floor, there's this way of----,"
     "You got to be kidding me," Didion's expression was skeptical as he
lowered his head slightly and stared at the spot Kimo had pointed out.
     A half micron later, Kimo's hand suddenly landed right on the back
of the Security Chief's neck.  Didion collapsed to the floor in a
motionless heap.
     "Yes, I was kidding."
     The Troubleshooter knew he wasn't going to waste any time to see if
Didion was still alive or not.  A frantic glance at his chronometer
revealed he had just four centons left before the charge would go off and
three centons before the shuttle he'd planned on taking would leave.
     He darted for the door and as soon as he was in the corridor and had
the door closed behind him, he moved at a fast trot through the
passageway, keeping his eye trained on his chronometer.
     Two centons to departure.  He looked up and saw the welcome sight of
the overhead sign that read TO DOCKING RING with the arrow pointing to
the left.  As he rounded the corner, he could see a uniformed man
standing in front of the circular docking ring finishing an announcement.
     "Last call for all those with valid travel ducats!"
     "Here," Kimo hurried up and quickly flashed the ducat he had paid
cash for on the trip over.  "Sorry, I got detained."
     "You made it just in time sir," the attendant motioned and Kimo
hurriedly entered.  As soon as the muscular man was inside, the attendant
pressed the button that closed the docking ring shut.  No one could leave
the Amargi now.
     Thirty microns later, the shuttle that was attached to the passenger
ship detached itself and began to move away.
     It was thirty microns afterwards, that the Amargi trembled slightly
as a hole blasted open on its lower starboard side, sucking all of the
interior contents near the breech into the empty void of space.


     "That's not good enough!" Tigh said angrily into his headset, "I
want a more up-to-date assessment than that within the next five centons,
Captain!"
     He switched his headset off and turned around just in time to see a
concerned Adama entering the Bridge.  "What's happened?" the commander
asked.
     "Explosion aboard the passenger ship Amargi.  She's got one, maybe
two rooms opened up to the vaccuum."
     "Casualties?"
     "Captain Straik said he doesn't have enough information on that."
     "Does he need technicians?"
     "He says no," Tigh shook his head, "Because all the indications are
that it has nothing to do with a mechanical breakdown.  The explosion
took place in the passenger quarters section."
     "Passenger quarters?" Adama frowned.
     "Yes, and that's what makes this explosion all the more suspicious
because the blueprints of the Amargi show that the passenger quarters are
in no close proximity to anything that could cause that kind of
explosion."
     "Meaning?"
     "Meaning, it has all the hallmarks of something done deliberately. 
But we can't get more information on that until he gets the hull breech
sealed and can study the area.  He has a wetsteel trained operator among
the crew to handle that, so that's why he didn't need to ask for anyone
from Shadrach's team."
     The commander shook his head in disgust, "This is about the fourth
ship I think since the Spica where we've had to deal with something like
this.  I'd like to see us just once get through a sectar without a ship
going through an explosion, be it accident or design."
     "I know what you mean," the executive officer nodded and then
adjusted his headset, "Captain Straik has another message."
     "Put him on the open channel so I can talk to him."
     "Yes sir," Tigh flicked the switch.
     "Captain Straik, this is Commander Adama.  Do you have more
information regarding this incident?"
     "Um.....well, no not yet Commander, I just wanted to ask the Colonel
for some clarification on something."
     "Yes?"
     "Well....I wanted to find out if Lieutenant Didion of Colonial
Security is back aboard the Galactica."
     "Lieutenant Didion?"  Adama frowned, "Why do you ask?"
     "Well.....the Lieutenant was aboard the Amargi not long before the
explosion to see me about something, and.....we haven't been able to
locate him here, and I was just wondering if....."
     "Hold on," Adama pressed the mute button and looked at Tigh with
concern, "Contact Security Operations right now."
     Tigh nodded and adjusted his comline, "Security Operations, this is
Colonel Tigh.  Has Lieutenant Didion returned from his visit to the
Amargi?"  A few microns went by and then Tigh grimly nodded, "Thank you,
Castor.  We'll get back to you soon and explain."
     "He isn't back," Adama didn't wait for Tigh to tell him.
     "No.  In fact, Castor says they were starting to get concerned."
     Adama pressed the button that opened the line to the Amargi again,
"Captain Straik, I'm afraid the Lieutenant has not returned.  Does his
disappearance have some bearing on the explosion?"
     There was an uneasy silence from the other end.
     "Captain?" Adama felt his patience disappearing, "I asked you a
question!"
     "Commander," Straik's voice sounded like that of someone who knew he
was in deep trouble.  "I....think you'd better send some warriors over
here so I can show you what I mean."
     "I certainly will, and they'd better bring back a good explanation
from you about this.  Galactica out."  Adama snapped as he shut off the
comline and looked at Tigh, "Find Apollo now and send him over there
immediately."


     "Well, did he react the way you expected him to?" Apollo asked
Sheba.  The two of them had just left Starbuck's quarters to tell him
about his next assignment.
     "He took it a little better than I expected," Sheba admitted.  "At
least all the breakables in the room are still intact."
     "I like to think your presence helped on that."
     "Meaning I have a soothing effect on those who come into contact
with me?" she gave him a playful smirk.
     "Well....that too.  I was thinking more of how your getting stuck
with the same assignment softened the blow."
     "Not the right answer, my dear husband-to-be," Sheba kept up her
playful edge by tapping him on the shoulder, "I expect you to flatter me
at every possible opportunity."
     "Oh that you'll get plenty of.  Believe me," he finally joined in
and they snuck in a brief kiss.
     "Attention.  Captain Apollo, report to Alpha Bay immediately."  the
unicom voice filled the empty corridor.
     "Frack," Sheba sighed as they ended their kiss.  "I sometimes think
the Unicom is trained to go off only at a micron like this."
     "On our sealing night, I intend to make sure the whole Unicom system
is down for repair!" Apollo vowed.  "Come on.  Let's see what this is
about."
     When they reached the launch bay five centons later, they could see
a shuttle already being prepared.  
     "Your orders just came down from the bridge, Captain," a launch crew
technician said, "Problem on the passenger ship Amargi.  Contact Colonel
Tigh on Alpha Channel as soon as you're away for further details."
     "Any orders about the Captain having to go alone?" Sheba spoke up. 
Apollo turned around and stared dubiously at her, but offered no vocal
protest.
     "Well...no, there was nothing about that."
     "Then I'm going too."
     Apollo sighed and said nothing until they were both inside and ready
to take off.  "Pretty anxious to assert yourself, aren't you?"
     "Look at it this way," Sheba said, "In the past, Starbuck would have
tagged along with you for this sort of thing.  I'm just standing in for
him."
     "Or taking his eventual place, right?" he smiled at her.
     "Maybe," she smiled back as the shuttle took off to begin its
journey.


     Fifteen centons later, Apollo and Sheba were aboard the Amargi where
a thoroughly agitated Captain Straik awaited them.
     "Okay Captain, I've been sent by Commander Adama for a full report
on what happened."
     Straik swallowed uneasily, "Captain....I regret to report that
Lieutenant Didion of Colonial Security is dead."
     "I had a feeling you were going to say that." Apollo noted, "How did
this happen?"
     "Well.....we're still not sure about how the explosion happened,
but.....all I can say is it happened in a place that the Lieutenant was
anxious to search.  I....well, he didn't have authorization from me or
Council Security, but-----,"
     "Captain Straik," Sheba interjected, "Can you take us to where it
happened?"
     "Well....yes.  The wetsteel operator has sealed the hull breech so
the danger has passed, and----."
     "Then let's go."
     The Amargi's captain led the two of them down the corridor to where
five blackshirted guards from Council Security stood outside the
blackened door of the room where the explosion had taken place.  To
Apollo's relief, he saw that Reese wasn't among them.
     "Please open the door," Straik motioned.  One of the guards nodded
and manually forced it open, creating an opening wide enough for the
three of them to enter.  When they were inside, Apollo and Sheba noticed
how the room was almost completely devoid of furnishings.  Only a bolted
down table and bunk indicated what purpose the room normally served.
     "Back there," Straik pointed at the compartment wall which showed
visible signs of scorch marks and hastily applied wetsteel solution. 
"You can see how wide the hole was."
     "Only a mid-level charge could have done that." Apollo shook his
head in disbelief,   "And you know for a fact that Lieutenant Didion was
in here when it happened?"
     "Yes....you see when the wetsteel operator entered this area to seal
the breach, there wasn't much left inside that hadn't been sucked out,
but....there was a severed arm in a warrior's flight uniform, and....."
he shuddered, not wanting to explain further.
     "Okay," Apollo said grimly, while Sheba tried not to look repulsed. 
"Why was Didion here?"
     "Well.....about fifteen centons before, he had been in my office
asking for a search authorization for this room."
     "Which you gave to him," Sheba said, beginning to have an inkling as
to why Straik was so nervous, and knowing what his answer was going to
be.
     "Well.....no.  I....didn't think he had proof to justify such a
search.  The....lieutenant must have had his reasons for coming here
alone without authorization, and then......this happened."
     "Whose quarters are these?" Apollo's tone grew sharp.
     "Just one person.  A very valuable member of my crew.  Maintenance
Chief Jabez."
     "And where is Jabez?" the harshness in the captain's voice
increased.
     "He's......" Straik looked down at his feet, "He's not aboard the
Amargi.  We've.... called out a search for him, and.....he must have left
during the confusion after the explosion."
     "Captain Straik," Apollo motioned his finger toward the door, "Let's
continue this conversation in your office and set up a tie-in to the
Galactica.  I want Commander Adama to hear everything you've just told
me, and a lot more."
     As he and Sheba followed the distraught captain out, the only thing
Apollo knew for sure was that Straik's days of being in command of this
vessel were definitely numbered.


     "On the one hand, I should be critical of you for your lack of
efficiency, my dear Kimo," Antipas said in that quiet intimidating air,
as he studied the Herneith bracelet that the Troubleshooter had just
handed him.  "But on the other hand, I should congratulate you on your
ingenious way of getting out of that fix.  Nonetheless, the fact that the
chief of Colonial Security is dead is not a development that pleases me."
     "I regret that circumstances made his death necessary, my Lord,"
Kimo said meekly, "I am well aware of your personal distaste for the
taking of life."
     "Which unfortunately requires some new steps be taken to conceal
your involvement in this affair, completely," Antipas said as he handed
Kimo a new band of cubit notes.  "Take this and set up an appointment
with a certain specialist in facial alteration named Dr. Colin.  I don't
need to tell you where he's located, you've had to keep his name on file
for just this kind of emergency.  Even though no description of you has
been broadcast, I don't want to take the chance of the Docking Ring
attendant mentioning an out of breath passenger who nearly missed the
shuttle that left just before the explosion. "
     "Of course," Kimo nodded.  "What about Jabez?"
     "Yes, what about him?" the Libran councilman sighed.  "Well,
assuming the attendant fails to remember you, he then becomes the leading
suspect and becomes wanted for the Lieutenant's death.  Given those
circumstances, it will be safe to cut him loose and let him fend for
himself.  I have little to fear from him.  As do you.  Now in the
meantime, you make that appointment with Dr. Colin right away."
     Kimo nodded and quickly departed.  Alone, Antipas sighed and poured
himself a glass of Sagitarian brandy as he contemplated the things he
couldn't reveal to Kimo.
     If the explosion had done its job, then he had the luxury of knowing
there was no tangible evidence left to link Jabez to the Museum theft. 
They might have suspicions, and there was no doubt they could nail him on
charges of destructive arson and murder, but as far as making an official
legal link to the theft:   Nothing.  That meant that if Jabez tried to
implicate him, he would be able to hold his own and get it dismissed as
the ravings of a destructive lunatic.  Just as he knew he could hold his
own if Dravius were ever caught and tried to do the same thing.
     But.....the danger was what could happen if Jabez and Dravius ever
came into contact with each other.  He could handle them as separate,
isolated cases, but if the both of them emerged to implicate Antipas,
that was when things could become difficult.  It would be much harder to
dismiss accusations from two of them.
     And the prospect of either of them finding the last two men who were
still guarding shares of the collection, Anglin and Spaulding, was enough
to make Antipas actually shudder.
     From this day forward, he knew he was going to have to live his life
with one wary eye on the developments of this investigation.  And he also
knew that he had to be prepared to take care of this problem in a way
that he had always tried to avoid at all costs, not because of any moral
or religious qualms, but because of a general feeling of distaste.  But
this time, events were moving into a phase where if he had to order Kimo
to kill someone, or be prepared to kill someone himself, he knew he had
to be prepared to do it.
     So be it, he thought as he finished his brandy in one gulp and
decided that what he needed now for distraction, was to entice Lydia over
for some pleasant diversion. 

                         Chapter Three

     "Let me get this straight, Captain," Adama's angry voice came over
the com-line in the Amargi captain's office.  "You received not one, but
*two* requests from Colonial Security regarding this man Jabez in the
last sectan, and you were totally unwilling to cooperate?"
     Straik felt like sinking deep into his chair as if it could offer a
hiding place, "Commander, it wasn't a question of not being willing, it
was a matter of civil perogative.  Chief Jabez is a valued crewman, and
the manner in which Colonial Security conducted themselves bordered on
persecution."
     "The men who take an oath to loyally serve the Colonial nation and
who work in the Security division are not 'persecutors', Captain," Adama
snapped, "Because they know full well that if they ever did engage in
that kind of conduct, they'd face some very harsh disciplinary action
from me, because that is the kind of conduct I do not tolerate in *any*
instance!  If Corporal Komma and Lieutenant Didion had valid reasons for
searching, then it would hardly have mattered to have assisted them, and
as a result prevented the death of a good warrior."
     "Yes, I understand.  I am deeply sorry for what happened to the
Lieutenant, I----,"
     "Commander, I think the more important question is finding out
what's happened to this Jabez, and doing some follow-up checking with
Corporal Komma on the general state of the investigation," Apollo
interjected.  He felt that after several centons of haranguing from the
Commander, Straik had gone through enough humbling and now was the time
to get back to the business at hand.  "If there are any other possible
leads to check out, he'd be the one to know."
     "Yes, I suppose so," Adama sighed, "Apollo, you and Sheba remain
aboard the Amargi for now to see if anything further can be done there. 
You'll be notified when you can return to the Galactica."
     "Yes sir," Apollo didn't relish the idea of having to stay aboard
the passenger ship, but he had no intention of questioning the order.  At
the very least, having Sheba with him would make the experience more
palatable.
     "Commander," Sheba spoke up, "This probably isn't the time for me to
bring this up, but....if I'm to assist effectively in this matter, it
would do good to relieve me of my pending assignment with the trainees." 
     There was a long pause, and Apollo could picture his father on the
other end suppressing a groan that Sheba had chosen to speak up about
that.  At the same time though, he had to admire her spirit for doing
that.  Sheba wasn't afraid to speak her mind about something she felt she
had to be open about, no matter what the situation.
     "Very well," there was clear reluctance in the commander's voice,
"Assuming the matter is still being dealt with by the end of the cycle or
tomorrow, you're detached from that assignment.....for now.  But I
reserve the right to reinstate you there."
     "Of course, Commander," Sheba nodded, feeling relieved inside. 
Being able to assist Apollo in what he was doing struck her as a lot more
important than having to discipline a group of problem warriors.
     "Commander, just one more thing," Apollo spoke up, "Do we have full
authorization from you to search any place we deem essential to this
investigation, and interview anyone we feel we need to talk to?"
     "Absolutely.  And anyone who impedes you is liable to face charges
of obstruction," Adama added the last sentence more for Straik's benefit. 
"Good luck."
     "Thank you, sir," Apollo said as he and Sheba rose and prepared to
leave.  Straik was still slouched in his chair, feeling defeated.


     "Good Lords of Kobol," Komma was clearly shaken as he and Castor
heard the news that the head of their division was now dead.
     "It's tragic," Tigh admitted, "But we have to get to the more
important matter of finding out who's responsible.  Now obviously, we
need to see what Jabez knows, when we find him, but since that trail is
cold for now, we have to know what else you've got that can help us with
this investigation.  And that includes anything that seems flimsy at this
point."
     "Well that's easy enough," Komma pulled out his files from the
drawer.  "My one other suspect for being part of the jewel heist, is this
guy.  Anglin."
     "Anglin?" Tigh picked up the file and looked it over.  "Sanitation
worker on the Livestock Ship.  What makes you suspect him?"
     "Not much, I admit," Komma said, "He was initially logged in as a
surivor on the same ship Dravius was first logged in on.  The Akrabi."
     "And so were a lot of other people, Komma," Tigh was clearly
unimpressed.
     "Yes, but....you see I met him.  Back when I was doing that census
assignment.  I had to pay him an unexpected visit for that, and I'm
telling you the guy was really spooked out when he saw someone from
Colonial Security in his own chambers.  That's why I ran the background
check last sectar to see if there was one tiny link with Dravius to go
on, and that's how I came up with the Akrabi."
     "And is Anglin the only person you've focused on as a suspect?"
     "Well no sir.  When I didn't have any other evidence to justify a
search, I did go back and cross-check the names of other people logged
aboard the Akrabi who are no longer living on or assigned to that ship. 
I do think that whoever in this Fleet is part of the ring wouldn't still
be on that ship, because they wouldn't want to draw attention to their
Libran background."
     "And how many named did you come up with?"
     "Thirty-five," Komma said.  "Five of them, I interviewed personally
for the census and they didn't bat an eyelash.  Another sixteen I
eliminated when I cross-checked how they reacted when the other members
of the Security detachment interviewed them.  The rest were inventoried
by Council Security so I couldn't get a handle on how they reacted."
     "Okay, let's have that list of fourteen other names and make
preparations to check them out with some routine interviews.  And we'll
make sure there's full cooperation with Council Security in getting
whatever material they compiled for the census on them."
     "If they're willing," Castor snorted.
     "They will be, Castor.  We're going to see to that."  Tigh was
emphatic.  "In the meantime, we'll put Anglin at the top of the list of
who to follow-up on.  As a matter of fact," he studied the file again,
"It might expedite things to have Apollo and Sheba take care of that
after they exhaust whatever's still on the Amargi to check first.  At
this point, I'd rather not detach anyone from your group from the
Galactica until we've gotten a successor for Didion in place."
     "Yes sir," Komma nodded.  "I'll stand by and wait for your next
order, sir."
     "Do that," Tigh set the file down, "You've done good work on this,
Komma.  I have a feeling it's going to pay some dividends soon." he then
focused his attention on Castor, "Sergeant, could I have a word with you
outside?"
     Castor frowned, not knowing what this was about, "Yes sir."
     The muscular security guard followed Tigh out into the corridor.
     "Since speed is of the essence in getting this untimely vacancy
filled, Castor," Tigh said, "I was wondering how you'd feel if you were
named the new head of the division."
     Castor was taken aback slightly, "Well....naturally, it'd be an
honor sir, but-----,"
     "Yes, I know.  You'd want to know how this would affect your duties
with Elite Squadron.  I'll see to it that you remain eligible for those
assignments.  And of course, you'd receive an automatic promotion to
Officer status, bypassing Ensign rank and officially being designated a
full lieutenant."
     The sergeant shook his head disbelievingly, "I don't know what to
say sir, except....I guess, thank you."
     "You've earned it, Castor," Tigh said, "You're the best man in the
division, and I think you've got a chance to make the position of chief a
bit more meaningful than it's been in the past.  I don't mean this as a
slight on Didion, but we allowed it to become too much of a liaison
position and it's time that change and we make it something a bit more
substantive."
     "I'll do my best in it, sir," Castor nodded, "I....guess I should
get started now."
     "Not a micron too soon.  I want you to officially coordinate all new
activities pertaining to this investigation as soon as Apollo and Sheba
are back."
     With a salute, Castor nodded and went back inside the Operations
Center.


     In a corridor of the Livestock Ship, an overweight man named Anglin
lay stretched out in his bed staring idly at the ceiling.  He was not due
to report for work until the evening cycle, and this was the time when he
usually slept.  But today, like many days over the last sectar, sleep had
not come easily for him.  Not since a night when in the midst of his
duties cleaning the corridors that led to the slaughter house, he had
suddenly been filled with a wave of guilt and regret over events in his
past that he had kept buried for so many yahrens.  And then, that had
been followed by a visit from a man he hadn't wanted to see again.  Not
long afterwards by a visit from Colonial Security that had left him
rattled, even though it had only been for the mundane purpose of a census
evaluation.  Ever since, he had felt the sense of guilt inside grow with
each passing day.  Gnawing at his inner soul day like a bird of prey
slowly gnawing the decayed flesh of a corpse.  And with each new day, he
found no answer that could help him dispel the guilt within.
     What's happened to me?  He thought idly.  It used to be, I could
keep the past safely buried inside without giving it a thought.  Now I
can't get it out of my head.  Especially----
     Before his mind could form the name, he heard the chime to his
quarters sound.  Followed by a loud rap, indicating that whoever was on
the other side was in a very impatient mood.
     "Who is it?" Anglin called out, feeling a dread feeling come over
him.
     "It's an old friend of yours, Anglin," he heard a voice that he
immediately recognized, even though he'd only heard it once before in the
last five yahrens.  He threw back the sheets, grabbed a robe and then
opened his door.  
     "Hello, Anglin," Dravius said calmly, but with his right hand
twitching.  He still had the dyed red hair and moustache he'd been
wearing when he'd last visited Anglin a sectar ago.  On that night when
all his inner troubles had started.
     "Get in here," Anglin grabbed the wanted fugitive's wrist and
dragged him inside, quickly closing the door behind him.  "What in Hades
are you doing here?"
     "Take it easy, Anglin," Dravius's voice was much calmer than it
ordinarily was.  The one trait about Dravius that always remained
constant no matter what his appearance happened to be was his high-strung
nature and mannerisms, but they all seemed subdued but for the hand
twitch.  "I'm not in any danger.  I wouldn't still look like this after a
sectar if I felt I was," he then scratched his head, "Although this
fracking dye I use is a giant pain in the astrum with all the itching it
causes."
     "Then maybe you ought to just shave it all off the next time you
change your appearance," Anglin said with disgust, "What do you want?"
     "A little follow-up to our conversation of a sectar ago," Dravius
said.  "You and I have to move against our former boss, and soon."
     "Frack, will you get off my back?" Anglin turned away from him.  "I
gave you my answer then, and it's still the same."
     "Things just changed today," Dravius said, "Jabez just got cut
loose."
     Anglin spun around and glared at him, "What are you talking about?"
     "Jabez is now wanted for the murder of the chief of Colonial
Security, who was killed when an explosive charge went off in Jabez's
quarters aboard the Amargi."
     "Holy frack," Anglin whispered.  "How did you find out----,"
     "Oh I have my sources.  I wouldn't be able to stay one step ahead of
the law if I didn't have ways of knowing what Colonial and Council
Security is up to."
     "Huh?"
     "Trade secret," Dravius smiled.  "At any rate, I just thought I'd
let you know that when the net closes in on Jabez, you can be damned sure
he's going to talk.  And that means that you and Spaulding will likely be
flushed out pretty soon.  Heck, the way things are going now, I'm
actually safer than the rest of you."
     "Then why does it matter to you what happens to Antipas?"  Anglin
felt he had to stay on the offensive somehow.
     The smile faded from Dravius's face, and he stepped forward.  The
twitching that had been confined to his right hand now appeared on the
lower left side of his face.  "Because I don't have a high regard for a
man who doublecrosses me, Anglin.  That's why.  And besides, as far as
the law is concerned, it doesn't make any difference to me at all."
     The tone of his voice sent a chill down the sanitation worker's
back.  And it was then, that he had to remind himself that Dravius was
guilty of taking part in the killings of two merchants aboard the Rising
Star, when he had made himself a henchman for the so-called "Association"
crime ring run by a staff employee named Samuels.  Samuels and the other
henchman had already been the first two people executed for murder under
the newly reinstituted death penalty statute, and already Dravius had
guaranteed that he would be the next one to be excecuted, should he ever
be captured.
     And that meant that indeed, the taking of any more lives was
something that could make no possible difference to him if he were
captured.  Dravius was a dead man one way or the other.
     "Okay," Anglin's voice grew calm, as he now realized that the last
thing he should do was antagonize his one-time fellow accomplice.  "Okay. 
What are you suggesting?"
     "I'm suggesting you help me out."
     "By killing Antipas?  You can fracking forget it.  Maybe an extra
murder doesn't make a difference with you under the law, but getting
dragged into my first one does with me."
     "Suppose I give you no choice," his voice dropped to an almost
menacing whisper.  "Suppose I give you a situation where you have a
possibility of losing your life at the hands of Colonial justice, or
losing it at the hands of me."
     Anglin suddenly found himself trembling visibly.
     "Thought that would unnerve you," the fugitive suddenly flashed a
cocky smile.  "You can relax, Anglin, that's not what I had in mind at
all."
     The sanitation worker deflated and shook his head, "You gallmonging
little piece of bilge scum."
     "Maybe I am.  But Antipas is something worse than that, and you know
it, Anglin.  Why should you or me, or the rest of us been in this
position of sitting on our astrums all these yahrens safeguarding
priceless riches that we could never put to good use?  Oh, maybe it got
us private quarters and a few extra petty luxuries that the average
person in this Fleet doesn't enjoy, but just take a look at what Antipas
does in that cushy set of quarters on the Rising Star.  It's time we tell
him that he either lets us move up in the pecking order of how to live in
this Fleet, or else we bring him down for good."
     "By threatening to kill him," Anglin interjected.
     Ten microns went by before Dravius finally shrugged in
acknowledgment, "Okay, that I will admit is what we have to do."
     "You aren't giving me one good reason why I should do this."
     "I'll give it to you," Dravius said coldly, "Jabez.  If he gets
nabbed, you're dead since he'll talk about the heist and soon they'll
trace it to you.  But if Jabez were approached and told that Antipas is
doing a better job of looking after us now, then he's got an incentive to
come to Antipas and get the same thing.  He'll learn that being a
fugitive living in style is a lot better than telling the truth and
ending up in the Prison Barge or facing the death penalty."
     "You don't even know where Jabez is."  
     "No, but I do know that he has to try to make contact with Antipas
at some point and if Antipas has already been coerced into giving us some
favors, and has to give the same to Jabez, then that automatically
neutralizes the problem that Jabez poses to you."
     Anglin stared at Dravius for what seemed like an agonizing eternity
to him.  What he couldn't understand was why the easy answer wasn't
coming out of his mouth.  What Dravius said was so maddeningly logical,
it didn't seem like there could be any other option for him to consider. 
And yet.....all he could feel at that instant was a certain knowledge
that if he did take that option, the uneasy burden that had been filling
him for the last sectar would only increase to an unbearable level.
     What is happening to me?  Why am I feeling this way to begin with?
     "Well?"
     Anglin slowly shook his head and seemed on the verge of
hyperventilating, "Get out," he whispered, "So help me, if you're not out
of here in the next five microns, I'll call Security myself."
     A dark expression came over Dravius's face, "Bad answer, Anglin." 
He then abruptly pulled out a long knife from the folds of his tunic and
jammed it in the sanitation worker's upper chest cavity.  He twisted it
deep for two microns before he pulled it out, and then in one swift
motion, turned and departed without saying another word.
     Anglin, the blood gushing from his chest wound, staggered about
before he collapsed to the floor.  The last thing his eyes saw before he
fell unconscious was the holopicture lying on his end table that he'd
pulled out from a deep recess of his storage locker a sectar ago.
     "Forgive....me," he managed to gasp, and then the blackness overtook
him.


     "Well, so much for finding anything useful on the Amargi," Sheba
said with dry disgust as she and Apollo rode a shuttle that was now
taking them to the Akrabi.
     "Yeah," Apollo nodded, "Total dead end.  Captain Straik's failure to
suspend all shuttle operations after the explosion clearly gave Jabez a
chance to get off the ship."
     "I just hope he's not a captain much longer."
     "My father will see to that," Apollo said as he went over the
information Tigh had passed on to them about the man named Anglin that
they'd been told to go over and investigate.  "Okay, this guy Anglin
should be in his sleep cycle right now since he doesn't work until the
night shift.  That means we should find him waiting to answer some pretty
tough questions."


     Ten centons later, they opened the door to Anglin's quarters and
were both greeted to the sight of the sanitation worker lying in a pool
of still flowing blood.  
     "Frack, get a med-tech here, fast!"  Apollo blurted as he rushed
over and took off his jacket to act as a hasty torniquet.  Sheba nodded
and dashed down the corridor to the nearest telecom unit.  It took
another three centons for med-tech personnel from the ship's medical
center to arrive.
     "Is he dead?" Sheba asked with concern as Apollo rose to let the
med-techs take over.
     "No, he's still alive but he's got to be in bad shape if he's lost
this much blood," Apollo turned to the lead med-tech, "Get him
stabilized, and then make sure he's ready for transport to the Galactica
Life Station fast!"
     "Yes, Captain!" the med-tech nodded as his team lifted Anglin onto a
gurney and hastily carried him out of the room.
     "Frack," Sheba shook her head as she and Apollo now stood alone in
the room, "Jabez must have gotten here first."
     "Seems that way," Apollo nodded, "This can't be a coincidence,
that's for sure.  At the very least, this makes searching his quarters to
see if he's part of the heist team kind of redundant."
     "Except for the possibility of finding whatever stash he has here,"
Sheba said, "Still....we ought to wait until they've had a chance to go
over this place and find some more links to whoever it was that did
this."
     "Yeah.  Course if we're real lucky, he won't die and he'll be able
to tell us himself," Apollo slowly exhaled, "God, I feel tired."
     "I know what you mean,"
     "Give me a centon to catch myself," Apollo found a comfortable chair
on the far side of the room and sat down, "Then we can go back to the
Galactica and----,"
     Abruptly, Apollo stopped and his jaw fell open slightly.
     "Apollo?" Sheba came over with concern and grabbed his arm, "What's
wrong?"
     "My God," Apollo managed to whisper and then point, "Look."
     Sheba looked and saw on the other side of the room a table lying
near the bed.  And on top of it was a faded holopicture of a young,
smiling woman in her late teens.  
     "That's Serina," Sheba managed to say.  "How could he----?"
     "I don't know," her fiancee shook his head, "But right now, I've got
another reason for wanting to see this guy pull through." 


     Summoning Lydia to his quarters had proved to be just the
distraction Antipas needed.  The attractive siress had by her own
admission, found her planned events for the day "sufficiently boring" to
merit dropping them and coming to her fellow Councilor's dwellings for
the one thing that was her greatest weakness.
     As soon as she'd arrived, the auburn-haired siress had wasted little
time "slipping into something more comfortable", which meant exchanging
her elegant, curve-accentuating dress  for the soft translucence of a
violet colored robe and a valcron negligee that left little to the
imagination.  The effect was one that accentuated her mature, slightly
middle-aged beauty to greater heights, and one that Antipas found himself
deeply appreciative of.
     "Darling Lydia," the Libran sire said admiringly, "Were I a
polytheist, I'd immediately mistake you for a goddess."
     She smiled in appreciation, "Coming as I do from an Aerian
polytheist background, I sincerely hope you have the right goddess in
mind."
     "Indubitably," he took her hand, "Only the fair Zandra herself."
     The two shared a kiss, and then a glass of ambrosia.
     "Why are you so good to me?" the siress sighed as they clinked their
chalices together and she took a sip.  "I sometimes feel as if I really
don't deserve all this attention you give me."
     "Why would you say that?"
     Lydia's expression grew serious, "Well....there was a time when I
felt a bit distant from you.  After we had to preside over that....little
matter aboard the Galactica.  I....really don't know what made me feel
that way, but----."
     "Think nothing more," Antipas cut in gently.  The last thing he
wanted her to do was think further on that matter and start comparing the
relationship she'd known with him to the one that the woman formerly
known as Ayesha had experienced in her marital relationship with Baltar. 
"In our situation, as members of the Council, we sometimes let the
responsibilities we have weigh heavily on us, and make us forget the
pleasures in life there still are to enjoy."
     "Of course," she took another sip, "I'm....glad you were willing to
let us continue what we've had, because I was.....really wondering if our
not seeing each other had meant......."
     "That I'd moved on?" the Libran sire laughed disarmingly, "My dear
Lydia, you are quite an impossible act to follow!"
     Suddenly the sound of Antipas's telecom chime sounded, breaking off
their mutual banter.  
     "Who could that be?" Lydia frowned and then instinctively wrapped
her robe about her body.
     "I don't know.  Ah....Lydia, perhaps if you could go into my bed
chambers and wait while I handle this.  This could concerns some private
matters."
     "Of course," she nodded and then hurriedly ran into the next
compartment, closing the door behind her.  As soon as it was shut,
Antipas made his way over and calmly picked up the telecom.
     "Hello?"
     "Long time no talk, Councilor," there was a considerable amount of
acid on the last word.
     Antipas gripped the unit tightly as he recognized the voice,
"Dravius, you're still wasting your time."
     "Not any longer, I'm not," there was a malevolent chuckle in the
fugitive's voice.  "I just left Anglin in a pool of blood in his
quarters.  And believe me, Councilor, I'm prepared to do a lot worse to
you if you don't start doing right by me."
     Antipas stiffened visibly and didn't answer for over ten microns. 
"You're insane, Dravius."
     "That little silence tells me I finally got to you," Dravius
chuckled, "It's only a matter of time before you finally give in,
Councilor.  And I'd make sure you get ready to do the same for Jabez as
well, since he's also shown he's willing to kill if he has to."
     The Libran sire's eyebrow went up.  That Dravius believed that Jabez
was responsible for the death of the Colonial Security Chief was clearly
a piece of good news, and he also realized that it had the potential to
work to his advantage.  
     "I have nothing to fear from either of you, Dravius," Antipas's air
of confidance returned.  "You're still on your own, and if you're caught,
Sire Solon is going to care a lot more about the capital crimes you're
guilty of then any indiscretion in my past."
     "Doesn't matter if I drag you down and see to it that your own
personal ambitions are over forever," Dravius snarled.  "You'll hear from
me again, Councilor.  And it may be in a place you least expect."
     A click indicated that Dravius had ended the connection.  Antipas
held the dead unit in his hand for several microns before putting it
down.  Then, he went over to the vid-com unit at the other end of the
room and switched on the IFB feed.
     ".......In what has been a very disturbing day for the people of the
Fleet, the earlier tragedy of this morning aboard the passenger ship
Amargi, which saw an act of sabotage that killed Lieutenant Didion, Chief
of Colonial Security, has now been compounded by a report of a brutal
stabbing aboard the Livestock Ship involving a maintenance worker.  At
the present time, the identity of this maintenance worker is being
withheld by Security, but a report was released that he was taken to the
Galactica to receive full treatment in the hopes of saving his life."
     Antipas stiffened and shut off the set.  That report meant that
Anglin was still alive, and not dead as Dravius had told him.  And it was
not good news from his standpoint because now that meant that there was
one man who in all likelihood would have to talk in a way that could not
possibly avoid implicating him.
     The Libran sire knew he had to admit the obvious.  Things had now
escalated to a point where keeping his dark secret of the past buried
forever was no longer an option.  He had to find a way of getting the
information out in the least embarrassing way.  And the fact that no one
could tie his own Troubleshooter, Kimo, to the crime scene aboard the
Amargi was the one thing he had going for him.
     He turned around and looked back at the closed door leading to his
bed chambers and contemplated the woman in the next room.  More than
ever, he knew he needed her.  It was time for him to unbury his secret to
someone who by the time he was through talking to her, would only be too
glad to take up his cause.  And the more he thought about it, the more he
realized that submitting himself to her for however long she wanted was
by far a more pleasurable prospect than any of the other alternatives he
could think of at this micron.  
     By the Lords of Kobol, he thought as he took a step toward the door,
I'll do it.  Even if it means asking her to become sealed to me, I'll do
it.


     "Well?" Apollo inquired of Cassiopeia as she stood over the Life
Station chamber containing Anglin.  Since returning to the Galactica,
Apollo had decided to go to the Life Station for an update, while Sheba
went to Adama's quarters to give a full report on what they'd learned.
     The blonde med-tech looked up, "Hard to say, Apollo.  He's in a coma
for now because of all the blood he lost and the interruption of normal
breathing before we got equipment for him.  Whether he turns a corner and
comes out of it, we probably won't know for some time."
     "Let's hope he comes out of it," Apollo said, "There's a lot I need
to know from him."
     Just then, the sound of little feet moving across the floor
distracted Apollo and he turned around and saw Boxey coming up to him.
     "Boxey, what are you doing here?" he frowned.
     "I need you to mark my study tape for primary class, Dad," the
little boy held up a small computer disc that contained all of his recent
homework.  "Teacher says all our parents have to mark it."
     "Oh, right.  I thought I'd done that last night.  Here," Apollo took
it and then removed a stylus from his pocket so he could affix a
distinctive seal to it, "That should do it.  Anything else?"
     "You going to give me a triad lesson tonight?" there was an edge of
faint pleading.
     "We'll see," Apollo said gently, "I may be busy with a job here
tonight.  If I still am, try to ask Starbuck since ah....." he chose his
words carefully, "He's got a bit more free time right now."
     "Sure," Boxey nodded, "Bye, Dad!"
     "Bye, son," Apollo waved as he saw him scamper out of the Life
Station.
     "More free time is right," Cassiopeia said dryly, "And darned little
of it spent with me."
     Apollo turned back to the med-tech, "Things okay between you?  No
bitterness over.... what happened with Chameleon?"
     "I think so," she nodded.  "It hasn't come up between us since
we....cleared the air about it."
     "I'm glad," Apollo then idly looked back down at Anglin's
unconscious form.  Then, his eyes narrowed and abruptly he turned around
and looked back at the door that Boxey had just disapeared out of.
     "Apollo?" Cassiopeia frowned. 
     When Apollo turned around again to face her, his expression was very
uneasy.  He almost seemed to be trembling.
     "Cassiopeia," Apollo said, "I want you to do me a favor. 
You've.....been able to extract a neuro-cell from him, haven't you?"
     "Of course.  Standard procedure for when we need to compile a normal
DNA profile of a patient."
     "And you have similar data available for all those who've undergone
routine physicals the last yahren, right?"
     "Yes," her frown deepened, "Apollo, what are you getting at?"
     Apollo felt a large amount of inner agony inside over whether he
should tell Cassiopeia what he was now thinking.  Seeing Boxey's face and
then looking back at Anglin's face,  had made him form a theory that was
too staggering for his mind to consider.  But now, he knew he had no
choice but to settle the question in his mind.
     "Cassiopeia," he said quietly, "This guy knew Serina.  Sheba and I
found an old holopic of her in his quarters.  It was when she was a lot
younger.  When....she was at University."
     "What does that have to do with----," she stopped and suddenly her
eyes widened as she made the connection, "Good Lords.....you think that
Boxey......?"
     "You have to run a test to find that out, Cassiopeia," Apollo kept
his voice low and quiet.  "So you might as well get to it."

                    Chapter Four

     ".....In my position, as the son of a pre-eminent member of the
Council, a family where there wasn't any shortage of wealth or
amenities.....it.....well for someone young and prone to rebellion as I
was, there was this sense of.....boredom if you will.  No challenge in
life to build something from nothing like my father had done to create
that kind of wealth.  All I had was claim to a privileged title,
and.....nothing that I considered a challenge in life."
     Lydia, reclining on the bed had her hand pressed to her head, her
expression rapt with attention.  "So that's what made you hatch this
scheme to rob the Libran Antiquities Museum?  Boredom and the desire for
a challenge?"
     "Yes," Antipas nodded, mustering all the heartfelt sincerity he
could, though for this part of the story it would be easy since it
wouldn't require any embellishment.  That would come later.  "And....I
had this fascination with wanting to beat the......establishment if you
will.  The whole mechanism of Colonial bureaucracy and authority, just to
prove that something that incredible could be pulled off and with only a
minimal number of people.  So.....I spent sectars planning it all out,
and then I recruited four derelicts from the ranks of Libran criminals. 
Men who never had been guilty of any major crime, but who had experience
in theft borne of necessity.  Dravius, Anglin, Jabez and Spaulding.  They
became the willing recruits for this operation planned and conceived by
me down to the last detail."
     "You weren't actually in the building stealing those objects
yourself?"
     "No," he shook his head, "They did all of that.  Each of them
assigned to load one-fourth of the treasures I was most interested in,
into an individual sky transport.  And then, they scattered to the
different corners of the planet.  Each one placing their share of the
treasure in a storage facility rented out by my family corporation, and
which I could frequent at any time I wanted to, just for the satisfaction
of looking at those artifacts and saying:   I did it.  I pulled it off,
and they're all mine."
     "So you never had any intention of selling the artifacts on the
black market?"
     "For what reason?" Antipas said rhetorically, "I had no need of the
money they could bring me.  And they were too well-known to safely
dispose of.  No, it was just the thrill of knowing they were mine and
that I'd beaten the Establishment at its own game."
     "And you set up the four of them in comfortable situations so they
could act as caretakers for the shares of what they'd stolen."
     "Yes.  All of them had good salaries as members of my family's
corporate payroll, and they were situated in different regions of the
planet that it was impossible to have ever found a way of linking them
together."
     "And on the night the Cylons attacked, you managed to gather all of
them and their shares of the collection together before you fled Libra." 
Lydia found all that he was saying fascinating.  And throughout it all,
there was no sign of anger from her.  Only what seemed like pity, which
was exactly what Antipas had been hoping for.
     "Callous of me, I admit, to not be thinking first and foremost of my
poor dead father on the Atlantia with the rest of the Council," Antipas
admitted.  "But.....possessing that Collection had come to mean so much
to me, and I had to find some way of saving it.  So....I managed to use
the prestige of my title and my father's access codes to get four sky
vehicles requisitioned to bring all the contents of those four storage
facilities to the main aerodrome on Libra for loading on the Akrabi,  the
largest ship to leave Libra with survivors."
     "So after that, you scattered the four of them to the different
areas of the Fleet like last time, with each still holding on to one
respective share of the Collection."
      "It seemed the easiest solution at the time.  Especially when I was
made a new member of the Council to replace Sire Uri, I realized that I
had to maintain the secrecy," he paused, and braced himself inside since
he was now reaching the point where he would have to start embellishing
in order to insure that she'd still be on his side when all was said and
done.  "But....then that mishap on the Spica suddenly changed everything. 
For awhile, it.....actually changed things for the better.  It gave me a
chance to see to it that the treasures recovered from there could be
given back to the Libran people and be placed in display for them to
enjoy once more.  So.....I could almost feel as though I'd been able to
return that part of the Collection at last with no harm."
     "Except for Dravius," the first edge of skepticism entered her
voice.  "Didn't he try to contact you for help, once he became a
fugitive?"
     "No," he lied, "You see.....Dravius was always the most unstable
member of the group.  He was so paranoid and secretive, he didn't even
give his correct name when he was logged among the survivors. 
And....once he realized his quarters were in danger of being searched,
all he did was panic and flee to one of the tiny enclaves inside this
Fleet.  Naturally, if he had contacted me, I would have done what I could
to help prevent a scandal from erupting, but instead, all he did was get
himself mixed up in that dreadful Association crime ring."
     "Yes," the skepticism faded from her face, replaced by a look of
disgust.  "And he helped kill poor Jubal.  An innocent merchant who never
harmed anyone before."  she looked up at him, "You never would have
considered helping him after that?"
     "Of course not," Antipas came over and sat next to her on the bed. 
"I mean....look, I'm admitting that I'm not the most ethical of men,
since I staged a jewel heist, but.....to do something where people could
be harmed, absolutely not.  In fact, when we staged the heist, they all
had orders not to harm anyone if a guard stumbled on them. 
When....you're talking about peoples lives, that's carrying the game too
far."
     "Okay," she looked him in the eye, "You cut Dravius loose and made
sure what he was guarding was returned to the people.  Why couldn't you
just quietly get the other shares returned?"
     "I didn't want to subject the others to any harm," he said with
sincerity, knowing this point would be a tough sell.  "Let alone put them
at risk with Dravius.  I just wanted to make sure they could go about
their lives in peace, and maybe someday, after Dravius was safely
captured, something could be quietly worked out."  He then looked away
from her and seemed to sigh with deep regret, "But....things got out of
hand.  Dravius.....well you can see how mad he is.  He's killed for the
Association.  Now he's tried to kill Anglin.  And Jabez, he's cracked too
and killed the Colonial Security chief.  I don't dare let anyone know
where poor Spaulding is or he could be a victim of either one of them,
just like they both would want to make me a victim too."
     "So what are we to do, Antipas?" there was a faintly maternal edge
in Lydia's voice.
     The Libran sire looked her in the eye, "I need your help, Lydia. 
More than ever.  You....could convince Adama that there's no need to make
a scandal of this that could shatter the People's faith in their leaders. 
I want no profit or gain from that Collection, and you can see that what
I did with the first share means I'm willing to let the people have it
back again.  All the other shares can go back to the people as well in
the new Museum display aboard the Akrabi."  He paused as he now moved in
to play his trump card with her, "After all, if we could show mercy to
Baltar's own wife last sectar, surely........" he let the rest of his
thought go unspoken.
     Lydia lowered her head and sighed in contemplation, "Was that why
you weren't anxious to find Ayesha guilty after she......told her story
before the Tribunal?"
     "In a way," Antipas said, "There was much about her plight I could
empathize with.  When you first recognized her aboard the Senior Ship and
I encouraged you to go to Adama with the information, I thought it would
mean we'd be exposing someone guilty of a terrible crime that involved
the death of people.  But.....you can see how it was just the shame of
being stigmitized for a lesser crime of the past that concerned her most,
and.....given my own situation, how else could I have ruled?"  He paused,
"Adama gave her absolution, and we concurred.  I'm asking for the same
from you, Lydia.  And to let Adama know that it's the only humane
decision he can make once the truth of my involvement in the theft gets
out."
     The attractive siress put a hand on his shoulder, "You're asking a
lot of me, Antipas," she said quietly, "I'd be putting myself on the line
in a way I've never had to do before.  If.....I do this for you, and use
my influence to get Adama to in effect pardon you, then.....what do I get
in return?"
     He took her hand and tenderly squeezed it, "The honor of me asking
you to become my wife."
     Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she didn't quite believe him at
first.
     "I'm serious, Lydia," he said, "Oh yes, I do have a reputation, but
I'm more than willing to change that for one such as you."
     Lydia  finally chose her words carefully, "I didn't enjoy being
married," she said, "And I'd rather not go through that again.  I won't
make you do something like that."
     Antipas didn't relax.  He knew what the next word was going to be on
her lips and she didn't disappoint him.
     "But," she paused before going on, "I do want you.  Not as my
husband, but.....as a permanent companion of sorts.  We can continue as
we have before, but.....on a permanent basis."
     "Permanent?" Antipas lifted an eyebrow.
     "Yes," she put a hand on his cheek and her voice then became a low,
possessive whisper, "And that means, my darling Antipas, you will never
be unfaithful to me for the rest of your life.  Or else I'll ruin you and
bring you down in a way that would make you wish you'd tried your luck
with Dravius and Jabez instead."
     Antipas said nothing as she kissed him on the mouth, with a
considerable amount of fiery passion.
     "From this day forward, Antipas, you are mine," she said as she let
go of him, "I don't care what you do as far as scheming against Adama in
the future goes, but when it comes to the one thing I enjoy most in life,
you are always going to give me your undivided attention."
     Lydia placed her hand on his cheek again, "Do we have an
understanding?"
     Antipas managed to smile as he took her hand and kissed it.  "Of
course.  You make the offer so.....wonderfully tempting."
     Lydia grabbed him and pulled him toward her as she rested across the
bed.
     "First things first, then," she purred, "And then, we'll go see
Adama."
     But even as Antipas kissed her and they began a new session of
lovemaking, the Libran sire was already making one vow for the future.
     You're my jailer for now, Lydia, and I intend to make the most of
that, he thought.  But someday, even if it has to be the distant future,
I'll be calling in my Troubleshooter to take care of you.


     Apollo hadn't left the Life Station ever since he'd asked Cassiopeia
to start taking the test results that he needed to know the answer to.  A
centar went by as he continued to stand by Anglin's life support pod,
seeing no trace of movement from the comatose man other than a faint rise
of his neck to indicate that he was still alive.  Another half centar
elapsed, and the black-haired captain found himself nervously pacing back
and forth in front of the pod, as he waited for the blonde med-tech to
finally emerge from the lab section.
     When Cassiopeia finally came out, the look on her face was all
Apollo needed to know.
     "I did this more than once to make sure there was no mistake,
Apollo," she said quietly.  "It's positive."
     Apollo let out a disbelieving sigh and shook his head, staring back
at Anglin's comatose form.
     "I'm not going to say anything else," the med-tech kept her voice
quiet, "What you do with that information is entirely your
responsibility, and I won't be saying another word about it to anyone,
unless I have your permission."
     "Thanks, Cassiopeia," Apollo said weakly as he kept looking down at
Anglin.
     The blonde med-tech started to walk away and then turned around and
looked back at him.
     "Apollo," she said, "Not that you ever said a harsh word to me about
it, but.....I think you now know what I was going through when Chameleon
swore me to secrecy.  And....how things must have seemed from his
perspective."
     The captain managed to faintly nod his head, but made no response. 
The only thing that was on his mind was how events had transpired to
unbury a secret he had long ago accepted as one that would stay buried
forever.  The only time he had ever heard any information about the man
lying before him had been on Carillon, inside the landram while Boxey had
gone off in search of his daggit, and the details Serina had given him
had been very vague.  And at no time had that information ever included
the man's name.  It had always seemed as though Serina wanted the name to
be lost to the ages, and the way events had unfolded had always led
Apollo to believe it would stay that way.
     Why does it have to finally come out at last?  he thought.  What
reason can there be for this to happen, other than adding a potential
burden for me to consider, and one that could be upsetting beyond belief
for Boxey, just as he's about ready to accept something new with Sheba as
his mother? 
     He could only hope there'd be some kind of answer to that he could
accept.  But for now, what he knew he had to do was let his father and
fiancee know about this, since they were the only two people who had a
definite right to know at this point.


     The Docking Lounge of the Rising Star was filled with a high volume
of passenger traffic both coming to and leaving the luxury vessel.  So
thick were the crowds, that a person could easily step through the
docking ring when exiting his shuttle and get caught up in the press of
the crowd to the point where he could move across the lounge to the
Central Passageway that fanned out into all sections without his feet
touching the floor.
     Jabez knew the Rising Star well enough from past visits that it
would be like this at this time of day, and that it constituted his only
good chance for getting aboard the luxury vessel without being noticed. 
And right now, the Rising Star was the only place he could think of going
to after the frightening realization that the man he'd met and turned the
Herneith bracelet over to had clearly been responsible for the explosion
that had resulted in not only the destruction of his quarters and the
rest of the priceless jewels he'd been guarding, but the death of a
Colonial Security Guard as well.  That made him now a wanted fugitive for
a crime he was totally innocent of, and the only person who could help
him out of that situation now was the man who'd gotten him into that fix: 
  Antipas.  The sooner he got to his quarters to confront the Libran
sire, the easier he'd feel.
     The press of the crowd carried him out of the Docking Lounge and
into the Central Passageway.  Now, it was time to start heading for the
direction of the Elite Section, where he knew Antipas maintained his
quarters.
     Suddenly, he felt a pair of hands grab his shoulders and yank him
out of the passageway and into a small storage locker.  Abruptly, he saw
the door close and then felt himself spun round to face the man who had
grabbed him.  He saw a grim faced, clean-shaven man with a shaved head as
well and the marks on his scalp indicated that it could only have been
done very recently.
     "I had a feeling you'd be coming this way, Jabez."
     His eyes widened as he matched the face to the voice, "Dravius?"
     "Yes," he nodded.  "I just wanted to let you know that before you
think about killing Antipas to get your own revenge, there's a way we can
work together."
     Jabez wasn't sure he'd heard him right, "Wait a centon.  What makes
you think I'm on my way to kill him?"
     "Pretty obvious, isn't it?  You already knew he wasn't going to help
you, so you had to kill the Colonial Security Chief----."
     "I didn't do that!"  Jabez protested, "That was Antipas's goon!  He
set me up!"
     Abruptly, the grim, determined visage of Dravius was replaced by an
expression of total bewilderment.
     "What did you say?" he asked calmly, wanting to be sure.
     "I had nothing to do with that!  I swear by all the Lords of Kobol,
that whole thing that happened was all Antipas's doing."
     Dravius grabbed him by the front of his tunic, "You tell me
everything.  Now."
     Feeling intimidated in his grasp, Jabez recounted everything that
had happened in just two centons, his words coming out rapidly, but
clearly.  When he was through, an amazed Dravius had loosened his hold on
Jabez.
     "Incredible," Dravius shook his head, "He didn't even let on.  But
you know, now that I think of it, this means you've really got no choice
but to help me kill him if that's what it comes down to."
     "No it doesn't," Jabez tried to inch back toward the closed door
behind him.
     "Yes, it does, don't you understand?"  Dravius grabbed his wrist,
"Even if you didn't kill the Security Chief, there's no way you can prove
otherwise.  As far as Colonial Justice goes, you're already a dead man. 
So you've got nothing to lose by helping me take that snitrod down to
Hades where he belongs."
     "Damn it, no!"  Jabez tried to shake himself loose,   "I want him to
either bail me out, and if he doesn't do that, then I threaten to come
forward, but I won't get caught up in one of your schemes, Dravius.  I
already know how whacked out you are!"
     "I wouldn't say that, if I were you," his voice dropped to a low
whisper, as he pushed him up against the closed door and then with his
other hand pulled out a blood-stained knife.
     "Take a good look at this," he whispered savagely, "Anglin's blood
made it turn that color.  I wouldn't want your blood to mix with his."
     "Oh my God," Jabez whispered with more fear than he'd ever known in
his life.  The terror of his role in the theft being discovered had been
enough to make his nights sleepless for the last sectan, but now, with
the events of today, and this added to it, he'd been pushed into a realm
of fear that exceeded everything he'd been capable of envisioning.
     "Are you going to help me, Jabez?" Dravius held the knife an inch
above his throat.
     "Yes," he whimpered, "Anything.  I'll do it."
     "That's good," Dravius smiled and put the knife away, and then
loosened his hold on Jabez.  "Now let's have a long talk about what our
next course of action is."


     As soon as Apollo made the revelation to both Sheba and Adama, he
waited to see what their reactions would be.  To his amazement, his
fiancee seemed less taken aback by the news than his father did.  Not
that Adama had seem overly rattled, but to show any sign of being jolted
was, even slight, was considerably out of character for the Commander.
     "In a strange way, I expected to learn this some day," Sheba said,
"And....ever since I saw Serina's picture in his quarters, I....kind of
got the uneasy feeling it might mean something like this."
     "And Serina never gave you any clues beforehand?" Adama finally
spoke for the first time.
     "Practically none," Apollo shook his head, "She just told me the
basic detail of being abandoned by this guy the day after she told him
she was pregnant, and that he was someone she knew at University. 
Nothing about his name, family or anything else."
     "Well.....I suppose it makes sense that a person trying to escape
responsibility for something on Caprica, would decide to flee to Libra
since that would take him from the Inner Colonies to the Outermost,"
Adama sighed and shook his head disbelievingly.  "But....naturally, you
don't think it appropriate to reveal to him what we know about his
distant past, once he comes out of his coma."
     "Absolutely not," Apollo said firmly, "This isn't the time to settle
an old score that isn't any of our concern."
     "Will it ever be though, Apollo?" Adama spoke up, a philosophic air
in his voice, "Is this....something we keep from him forever, as well
as.....Boxey?"
     His son sagged in his chair, showing how much he was grappling with
that issue.  His fiancee reached over and squeezed his hand in support.
     "I don't know, Father," Apollo said, "Obviously, now is not the
time, but......could we be able to keep this kind of information a secret
forever?  Being forced into the kind of position that Chameleon put
himself in regarding Starbuck?  We already saw how impossible it was for
that to stay a secret."
     "True," Adama admitted, trying not to wince at Apollo's mention of
Chameleon, since all that did was remind him of another sore subject
concerning a buried secret that the other two didn't know about.  That
Chameleon was now unknowingly involved with the woman who had been
Baltar's wife.
     Lords of Kobol, how many more buried secrets am I going to have to
deal with?
     "Well I don't see what choice we have but to keep quiet on this
point for now," Sheba spoke up, "Especially since it's not our first area
of concern regarding him.  What we need is information on his role in the
jewel heist, so we can find out who else out there is likely to be
Jabez's next target."
     At that instant, the vid-com chimed and Adama turned to answer it,
"Yes?"
     "Hello, Adama," Sire Antipas's face filled the screen.  "I hope you
don't mind my calling you on your secure personal line.  But this is a
matter of great importance."
     The commander's eyes narrowed in skepticism, since he knew any
message from the Libran sire could never mean anything good.  Across the
room, both Apollo and Sheba rose from their chairs with equally concerned
expressions.
     "Very well, Sire Antipas," Adama said, "What is it?"
     "Adama, I request permission to meet you for the purpose of making a
full statement regarding a most......unpleasant matter.  Siress Lydia
will be accompanying me, since I have already made her privy to the
details."
     "What unpleasant matter?" Already, Adama was feeling an alarm bell
go off inside, because if it meant that Antipas and Lydia wanted to see
him, then he didn't see how it could pertain to anything other than the
affair surrounding Claudia, since the three of them had been the ones
who'd presided over her secret tribunal.
     "That must wait until my arrival, Adama," Antipas said gently, "And
I expect you to treat this in the strictest confidence.  On your word as
a brother member of the Council."
     "You should never expect less of me, Sire Antipas," the commander
injected a faint edge of coldness in his tone.  Given all that had
happened recently, the last thing he intended to do was show more
deference to Antipas than was necessary.
     "Thank you," Antipas bowed politely, "Expect Lydia and I to be there
within the centar.  In complete confidence of course."
     As soon as his image faded from the screen, Adama turned back to
face Apollo and Sheba, "Something tells me this is not going to make our
situation any better, but I have to keep my word on this.  The two of you
avoid my quarters until further notice.  If Anglin comes to and talks,
inform me of anything he says by telecom only."
     "We will," Apollo nodded, "And we'll also stop by Security to see
what they have on the search for Jabez."
     The instant they were gone, Adama found himself looking back at the
blank screen, unable to shake the feeling inside that he was about to
learn something that was connected somehow to the events that had
unfolded this day.  And whatever the connection was, it was something
that could only make his own situation much worse.


     "Apollo," Sheba said as soon as they were out in the corridor,
"There's.....just one thing.  Should either of us take a chance being
around Boxey, so long as this general situation involving Anglin
is.....unresolved?  I mean......we could end up looking so agitated that
he might ask a question or two neither of us would want to deal with
right now."
     "That's a good point," Apollo nodded, "I'll....see if I can get
Athena and Boomer to keep him occupied tonight.  Besides," he smiled
without much mirth, "They could use an excuse to spend some time together
anyway."
     Sheba lifted an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"
     "I thought you knew," Apollo frowned, "Don't you?"
     His fiancee sighed, "Well...yes, I do know about them.  I just
thought that you didn't know."
     "It wasn't the best kept secret," Apollo shook his head,
"I.....already suspected something was going on between the two of them
from the day they got rescued from Ki.  I didn't say anything about it,
because I figured it wasn't any of my business unless either of them
wanted to tell me about it.  But....a little while ago, before all that
trouble with the Ziklagi happened, it finally slipped out.  She didn't
mean to reveal it, and she probably hoped I didn't catch on, but I did."
     "So having them look after Boxey tonight will be your way of letting
them know that you know?" Sheba couldn't help but smile.  "Lords, it
seems like we're being bombarded with all kinds of unburied secrets, left
and right."
     "Yeah," Apollo smiled but more from irony then from seeing the humor
of it.  Too much had happened that wasn't funny in the least bit.  "Okay,
let's take care of that and then get back to work."


     "Well, I guess it's time for us to visit the Commander and lay
everything out," Antipas sighed.
     Lydia emerged from the bed chamber, adjusting her left earring, and
then the sash of her curve-accentuating dress.  "Maybe I should stop by
my quarters and change into something more.....official."
     Antipas nodded, "Not a bad idea.  As much as I prefer what you're
wearing now, Councilor's robes would give our presentation to him some
greater.....solemnity."
     "Should I come back here or meet you at the Docking Lounge?"
     "I'll meet you there," Antipas said.  "Say in about....twenty
centons?"
     Lydia wrinkled her nose slightly, "When it comes to putting on those
horrid robes that make me look so matronly, I don't need that much time
to get dressed.  Ten or fifteen should be enough."
     "Very well.  I'll be there.  Oh, and Lydia...."
     She stopped in the doorway and looked back at him.
     "Thank you," he smiled warmly, "You....really have been good to me. 
I think what we'll have from now on will be quite.....beneficial for us
both."
     The auburn-haired siress gave him a coy and wicked smile in return
as she opened the door and stepped out.  The instant the door closed,
Antipas's expression grew grim as he made his way over to his telecom
unit and pressed several buttons rapidly.
     "Dr. Colin?" he asked as soon as he heard the voice on the other
end, "You know who this is.  Are you done with a certain patient who came
by your office?  Good.  He's gone back to his quarters?  Thank you." 
Antipas then pressed the red button to end the connection and punched in
a new set of numbers.
     "Hello?" Kimo's voice was drowsy.  The result of having spent at
least a centar in some hasty face-altering surgery.
     "Dr. Colin tells me your visit was a success," Antipas said.  "That
should take care of any lingering problem concerning what happened this
morning, which as good luck would have it, you're not being suspected of
at all."
     "Yeah, yeah," Kimo said warily, "But....Sire, with all due respect,
I hope you don't want me to do something that could force me to pay that
guy another visit."
     "That may not be possible, Kimo," Antipas said, "Right now, I want
you to assume a position near my quarters and keep patroling it
discreetly for the rest of the cycle until you see me come back.  I have
a feeling that at least one of two men is going to try to pay a visit at
some point and I want you in position to intercept them."
     "No problem.  For something like that, I can handle."  There was a
pause, as though he had just realized something, "You....want me to kill
them if I have to?"
     "You'll have to, Kimo," Antipas said quietly, "And that's all I can
tell you for now.  Just get down here right away and start making that
sweep of the area."
     "I have to know what they look like, because the last thing I want
to do is cause trouble for an innocent bystander."
     "One of them will be Jabez," the Councilor tightened his hold of the
telecom, knowing he had to be careful in terms of how much he told his
own Troubleshooter, "The other....I can't give a description of since
he's been known to change his appearance.  But.....he'll look very
nervous and probably seem like he's.....mad."
     "Okay, got it," Kimo paused, "You will be giving me a little
something extra for this, won't you?"
     "I've never let you down before, have I, Kimo?" Antipas smiled and
made his tone as disarming as he could.  
     And then, before he could let the Troubleshooter make a reply, the
Councilor put down the telecom unit and headed for the door to keep his
appointment.
     The instant he stepped out in the corridor, he suddenly felt his
left arm grabbed violently and a knife pressed against the right side of
his neck.
     "Bad move, Councilor."
     Antipas's eyes darted to his left where he saw a subdued Jabez
holding on to his arm, and then to his right, where he could see Dravius
grinning with satisfaction.
     "Now let's go inside for a nice talk, shall we?" Dravius pressed the
button that opened the door and motioned his arm.  Without saying
anything, Jabez shoved the Council member back inside, with Dravius
following them in.

                         Chapter Five

     In a section of space that was far to the rear of the Colonial
Fleet's position, and represented an area that they had left behind
several sectars ago, the long period of silence and emptiness had finally
come to an end.  Two massive ships, identical in all respects with their
sloping cylindrical sections mounted to a central hub, had now entered
the quadrant and begun to take readings.
     Aboard one of the ships, the commander sat in a high-walled chamber
that contained a high throne chair situated in the center of the room. 
Ever since he had assumed total command of this ship nearly a yahren ago,
he had spent as much time here as he possibly could.  It was a place that
could allow him the simple joy of reveling in the satisfaction of having
the kind of command that he had long been convinced should have been
rightfully his, long ago.
     Behind him, he could hear the sliding doors to his chamber open,
meaning he would be hearing a message of importance within a few microns. 
But rather than turn his chair around immediately, he would wait, as he
always did, for the three words he enjoyed hearing.
     "By your command."
     Lucifer turned his throne chair around to face the centurion who had
just walked in.  Oh, how he enjoyed being on the receiving end of that
phrase he had come to despise in all the sectars when he had been forced
to utter it!
     "Speak," the IL Cylon said in the normal sounding voice befitting
his stature.
     "We have reached the last reported position of Baseship number 1974,
Sonus class."
     "What do preliminary readings of this system indicate?"
     "No signs of any astral phenomenon that could have destroyed the
ship without warning.  Our patrol sweeps are investigating the adjacent
quadrants to confirm these readings."
     "Hmmm," Lucifer mused, "The enduring mystery of what happened to
that rather outdated baseship continues.  If she was not overwhelmed by a
sudden natural force, then what could have caused her mysterious
disappearance?"
     There was no response from the centurion, which Lucifer expected. 
One-brain Cylons were only programmed for basic functioning, with no
ability to ponder questions and offer meaningful responses.  And for an
instant, Lucifer felt that trace of regret he always felt when he desired
the presence of someone who could offer more stimulating conversation. 
Certainly not someone who grated on his circuits the way Baltar always
did, but someone more refreshingly candid.  Someone like that brash
Colonial warrior named Starbuck, who had fascinated the IL during the
time when the warrior had been a prisoner aboard the baseship.  
     "Centurion," the IL Cylon finally said, "Inform our patrol fighters
to start adjusting their scanners for minute traces of space debris.  It
seems to me that it's time we consider the possibility that our
unfortunate older sister ship met with a most untimely end by sentinent
forces unknown or...." he paused deliberate effect, "known."
     "If the baseship had engaged the Galactica, she surely would have
had time to broadcast a signal regarding that."
     "Or perhaps not," Lucifer gently reproached, "Do not underestimate
the human potential for the unexpected.  One that could have resulted in
their ability to destroy a basestar before the Commander had any
opportunity to broadcast any signal back to us."
     There was no response from the centurion.  This was clearly one of
those things his drone mind was incapable of comprehending. 
     "Carry out my order, centurion," the IL Cylon said, "And keep me
informed should anything of significance be discovered."
     "By your command."


     As soon as he'd been forced back inside his chambers, Antipas felt
Jabez release his hold on him, letting the Councilman collapse into one
of his soft chairs.
     "Didn't think we'd both hook up this fast, did you?" Dravius grinned
menacingly.  "I guess that's why you thought you could safely walk out of
here.  You really should have known better than to underestimate us."
     Antipas leaned forward and put his hands together.  Now was the time
for him to summon all his inner strength and let that be the key to
beating these two one-time underlings of his.
     "If you've come to talk, gentlemen, I should point out that Siress
Lydia is expecting me in the Docking Lounge in ten centons for an
important matter of Council business that we have to see Commander Adama
about.  If I don't show up for it, she's going to summon Security, and
you wouldn't want to deal with that, now would you?"
     "We can handle those blackshirted goons anytime.  How do you think
I've been able to stay free all these sectars since the Spica exploded?"
     "Well that's true, yes," Antipas nodded, his tone still level and
non-plussed, "But then you'd have lost your chance to tell me what it is
you want me to do.  So in the interests of letting us have a sustained
conversation, I really think you should let me reassure the Siress that
things are okay, and she should proceed to the Galactica without me."
     "Dravius, I think he's right," Jabez said uneasily, still wondering
if he was doing the right thing letting Dravius drag him into this.  
     The wanted killer put a hand to his chin and finally nodded, "All
right, Antipas.  But no fracking tricks or you're a dead man."
     "Of course," Antipas said disarmingly as he went over to his vid-com
and pressed the number of the Rising Star's Operations Center.  "Hello,
this is Sire Antipas.  Siress Lydia is waiting for me in the Docking
Lounge.  Please have her paged and call me immediately from there."
     He switched off the vid-com and turned back to face his captors, "I
do appreciate your waiting until she was gone before you moved in.  It
really wouldn't have been proper to drag her into this whole sordid
mess."
     "Yeah, yeah," Dravius impatiently waved his hand as he brandished
his bloodstained knife.
     Thirty microns later, the vid-com chimed and Antipas quickly
activated it.  He could see Lydia sitting in a public booth in the
Docking Lounge with a concerned expression.
     "Antipas?  What's wrong?"
     "I'm afraid something's come up," he said in a normal tone of voice,
"That matter of Council business we were discussing earlier, that we
planned on seeing Adama about?  I'd really appreciate it if you could
make the presentation yourself." he then paused for just the tiniest
fraction of an instant and leaned forward just a bit, "The entire
presentation.  Adama has to understand the full extent of our proposal on
this issue, and much as I'd like to be there to help you out, that just
won't be possible for now."
     Lydia's eyes narrowed slightly, and she hesitated for an instant.
     "Have.....the details of this proposal we have for him detained
you?" she finally spoke.
     "Oh yes," Antipas nodded, "Not that it changes the basic thrust of
the argument we need to make before Adama, but I have to do some
follow-up study on those points just in case our position changes
unexpectedly when the Council as a whole takes up the issue."
     "I understand," Lydia nodded, "Completely.  I realized how
troublesome those details were when we went over them, but I can imagine
they have to be causing you even more concern if you think they should
keep you from making the case yourself to Adama."
     "That's how it goes sometimes," Antipas shrugged, "Anyway, do convey
my regrets to Adama, and again let him know that my position on the
matter is quite clear."
     "As is mine," Lydia said with silent understanding of everything. 
"Thank you, Antipas.  I'll see you later."
     "Goodbye, Lydia," Antipas cheerily switched off the vid-com and
looked back at Dravius and Jabez, who were eyeing him with caution.
     After a half centon's worth of silence, Antipas finally shook his
head and laughed, "Oh come now, gentlemen, do you really think there was
a secret message there just now?  Lest you be paranoid enough to believe
that, may I point out that sending a secret message would require her
knowing the details of my involvement in the theft, and do you really
think I'd be fool enough to tell a member of the Council all about that,
let alone anyone for that matter?"
     Finally, Dravius shook his head and let out a mild chuckle of his
own, "No, you wouldn't be fool enough to do that, Antipas.  That's for
sure."
     "Then let's get down to the matter of this conversation the two of
you want to have with me," he maintained his air of charm, "Can I help
you both to some choice ambrosia, in the meantime?"


     Kimo rubbed slightly at his new face, which still felt sore after
the very hasty operation he had submitted himself too.  This was not the
first time he had forced himself into one of these procedures, and he
never enjoyed going through the ritual.  But as a self-described
"troubleshooter", who never showed his face in public much to begin with,
changing his face when the occasion warranted it, at least didn't carry
with it the need to change his name.  A personnel file check would simply
reveal the name of Kimo, former professional grappler who worked on the
personal services staff of Sire Antipas, and no holopicture on file.  Not
that any of his faces would have seemed to memorable anyway.  He could
remember yahrens ago in the arenas of grappling how an opponent would
always taunt him by saying, "You've got a face made for telcom hookups
only!"
     Still, he had to wonder if being forced to kill for the first time
was going to change the dynamic of how he'd operated in the past.  And
clearly, Antipas was going to want him to kill again, and who knew what
kind of complications that was going to bring for him. 
     Nonchalantly, he stepped off the main turbo lift and walked down the
central corridor of the Rising Star that funneled out from the Main Deck
into the more isolated regions that comprised Elite Class.  Here, in
corridors that few people walked, the rich and powerful had their private
dwellings all to themself where they could lock themselves up among their
riches and try to pretend that the universe around them was as normal as
it had been before the Destruction.
     Kimo reached the point where the passageway branched out into three
additional corridors, with the one on the left leading toward Antipas's
chambers.  Seeing nothing at that end, he decided that for now he would
position himself in the one that branched to the right, since it would
give him a chance to see anyone approaching, and who would not notice him
right away.
     And with that, the Troubleshooter calmly stood against the wall and
began what he hoped would not be a long vigil.


     "Any change, Doc?" Apollo inquired of Salik as he and Sheba entered
the Life Station.
     The Chief Medical Officer was hunched over Anglin's life support
chamber, "All I can tell you for now, Captain, is that I can keep him
alive indefinitely.  But whether he comes out of the coma or not, I still
can't say just yet.  Probably the next twenty-four centars should tell us
whether he'll recover or whether he's condemned to be this way until his
heart stops beating some day."
     "I see," Apollo turned to his fiancee, "Well, I guess we head down
to Security now."
     "Right," Sheba nodded, and they left the Life Station as quickly as
they'd entered it.  Once they were outside, she let out a mild sigh of
exasperation, "Do you get the feeling we're never going to find out
anything from him?"
     "I'm trying not to," Apollo kept looking ahead, "Because I have to
talk to him."
     "Do you want him to live more because of what we need to find out
now, or what you want to find out later?" she asked her question
delicately, hoping he didn't take it the wrong way.
     To her relief, Apollo just let out a mirthless chuckle, "That's a
good question, Sheba.  And I honestly can't say.  But," he shook his
head, "Now that I finally know who the man really is, I do want to ask
him about that.  If he has any inkling of the pain he caused Serina and
if he's lived long enough to feel sorry for what he did."
     "You have to wonder if he has," Sheba said, "Why would he have kept
Serina's picture all these yahrens and had it out in the open when we
found him?"
     Apollo stopped and pondered her words for an instant   "You know, I
never thought of that," he resumed walking, "Maybe it's something I can
take as a hopeful sign if he never comes out of it."
     They took the turbo lift down one deck level to the Security
Operations Center, where they saw a dazed Castor making an adjustment to
his uniform.  Apollo's eyes widened when he saw that the muscular guard
was pinning an officer's insignia to his jacket.
     "Lieutenant?" he asked with surprise.
     Castor shrugged, clearly not wanting to make a big deal over it,
"Yep.  Rapid battlefield promotion if you will, to new head of Colonial
Security Operations.  Tigh's order."
     "Well there couldn't have been a better selection, Castor," Sheba
said trying to keep her voice low key, knowing it would be bad taste to
be offering him congratulations over benefiting from a tragedy.  "You'll
do fine in the job."
     "I hope," the new head of Colonial Security sighed, "Nothing new
from our prisoner, slash, victim?"
     "Nope.  Still in a coma,"
     Castor went over to the desk at the far side of the room that had
been Didion's.  "I've spent my first few centars in this new job
swallowing every section that Komma and the others have put out on this
whole case since the beginning.  Every other available guard in the
detachment not assigned to immediate duties here on the Galactica, is now
off checking up on about a dozen other men that Komma thought were likely
candidates to be our last missing member of the heist team."
     "Are you convinced there is another man out there, apart from
Dravius and Jabez?"
     "Well, assuming that the stash Jabez had in his quarters, which was
all lost to the explosion, was one-fourth the inventory of what was
stolen from the Museum just like with Dravius's, then there's no other
possible explanation.  We've got a missing member out there who may or
may not end up a target before the day is out, just like Anglin did."
     "And we don't have the manpower to put all of the suspects on
Komma's list under combined surveillance from Colonial and Council
Security," Sheba noted.
     "Exactly," Castor nodded.  "So the sooner we can find paydirt on our
last mystery man, then we've got a chance to flush out Jabez or Dravius,
or better yet, both of them into the open and nail them."
     "You want us to handle some of the names you haven't been able to
send guards out to talk to?"  Sheba asked.
     "No, no," Castor held up a hand, "I won't make you do any more
shuttle hopping throughout the Fleet.  You've probably had your fill for
the day.  It's just a matter of waiting for the guards to file in with
their reports on these other potential suspects and seeing if we've got
something to work with."
     "So, instead of waiting in the Life Station, looks like we're stuck
waiting here for now," Sheba gave her fiancee a wry smile.
     "Guess so," Apollo shrugged.
     Castor looked up and finally cracked a smile, "You could always call
Starbuck down here and we could have a go at four-hand Pyramid, while we
wait."
     "I don't think Starbuck wants to see either of us after what we told
him earlier today about his next assignment," the black-haired captain
noted, "Plus, isn't it against regulations for gambling outside the
designated zones?"
     Castor's smile widened, "Now that I run the division, I'm willing to
take a loose interpretation of certain regulations.  Like having
unauthorized Pyramid games where only salt chips change hands rather than
cubits, go unreported."
     "If all I'm risking is a stash of unappetizing snack fare, then
count me in," Sheba said as she lazily sat down on the edge of the desk,
"Besides, I've always wanted to see Starbuck's techniques up close when
it comes to Pyramid.  Just to see if there's any point in trying to take
up the game for real."
     "Okay," Apollo found himself relaxing for the first time all day. 
Castor had succeeded in breaking the tension, and for that he was
grateful.  "I'll give him a telecom and see if he's calmed down."


     As Adama waited for the arrival of Antipas and Lydia, the one thing
he found his mind unable to shake was the theme of buried secrets.  How
Chameleon's visit that morning had forced him to confront a secret
regarding a woman named Claudia that he didn't want to have to reveal to
anyone else, not even Chameleon.  Then, the stunning revelation from
Apollo about the true identity of the man named Anglin.  Now, he was
waiting for Antipas to supposedly tell him something of great importance
that he was convinced would impact somehow on the matter of Claudia,
especially if Lydia was going to be present.
     Idly, he switched on his personal computer and summoned the file
pertaining to a buried secret he would have been happy to uncover, but
which remained buried for now.  The enigma of a diary kept by a long-dead
man from the Proteus penal colony who had been only known as "The Silent
One."  The diary, along with other personal effects of the man had been
discovered in an old crate of ambrosia from Proteus aboard the Rising
Star, and ever since, Professor Pliny of the University Ship had assigned
teams of linguists to look for any way of cracking the secret of the
alien language this man had written in.  Because once that language was
cracked, then at long last, they would have an actual account of a man
who had clearly come from the planet Earth.
     Unfortunately, there had been next to nothing in terms of meaningful
progress by Pliny and his team.  All they had deciphered were some
occasional usages of a numerical system similar to one form of Colonial
numbering, but their occurrence was so infrequent that Pliny had formed
the conclusion that the numeral system that was recognizable was part of
a now dead language on the planet the Silent One had come from.
     Why can't this man's secret become known? He thought as he looked at
the photographic scan of the leather bound book.  These were the answers
that the people were entitled to know. Not painful secrets regarding the
sad past histories of people who either needed to have their privacy
respected, as with Claudia, or who needed to be shielded from further
humiliation, like with Anglin.  Or secrets that could only cause pain to
others if they ever learned about them like Chameleon, or Boxey.
     When he heard the chime, he switched off the computer and braced
himself, "Enter."
     The door opened and a pensive Lydia entered, looking decidedly less
glamorous in her formal Council robes.
     "Siress Lydia," Adama rose and frowned, "Where is Sire Antipas?"
     Lydia took a breath, "Adama, I think he's in serious danger."
     "Danger?  How?"
     "Adama, this must be kept in strict confidence." Never before could
Adama remember Lydia sounding this forceful.  "Antipas wanted to confess
something to you.  Something that shouldn't be made public any more than
another matter the three of us know about should be made public."
     There it was, Adama tried not to wince.  There was a connection
somehow with the Claudia affair.  What surprised him though was to see
that it was Lydia who was suddenly brandishing it as a weapon.  He had
come away from the Tribunal session half-convinced that the experience
had left a positive impact on Lydia, one that had made her start to take
more seriously her responsibilities as a Council member.  Now, he might
as well have just been talking to Antipas in female robes.
     "Siress Lydia, I am not in any position to make any promises about
anything since unlike that.....affair you speak of, this is not a formal
Tribunal session."
     "Adama, this isn't a subject for debate," Lydia's voice grew cold,
"I want your word of honor on this matter, or else you might end up
putting Antipas's life at risk, and require me to give a very indignant
statement to the IFB before I were to give it to the Council."
     The commander was taken aback.  This was totally unlike the Lydia
he'd been familiar with for more than ten yahrens, who had always been so
passively disinterested in politics and only cared for the ceremonial
stature associated with it.
     "If Antipas's life is at risk, then waiting for me to give you a
promise I might not necessarily be able to keep is not going to help him,
Siress," Adama said matter-of-factly.  "I suggest we get down to
specifics immediately."
     Lydia seemed to realize that he had her on that point, "Very well,
Adama.  Antipas wanted to make a full statement confessing his role in
the theft of artifacts from the Libran Antiquities Museum, five yahrens
ago."
     The Commander's eyes widened in disbelief and he promptly dropped
back in his chair.
     "And the reason he wasn't able to accompany me here, is because I
believe at least one if not two of the men who helped him in the theft,
and who are now wanted for murder, are threatening him right now."
     Adama, totally speechless by this revelation, and finding it
incredible that he was dealing with yet another unburied secret that
could only mean trouble, motioned his hand to indicate that she should go
on.


     "I hope you don't mind a Sagitarian vintage," Antipas said as he
poured ambrosia into three chalices.  "While the Proteus collection is
not outside my price range, the limited quantities tend to discourage me
from investing too heavily in it."
     "Figures that you'd have that kind of decision to make," Dravius
said with dry contempt as he continued to hold his knife.
     The Councilor sighed as he handed a chalice to the wanted murderer,
"Come now, Dravius.  Don't blame me for the fact that I was born into
circumstances that make that possible."
     "You first," Dravius pushed the chalice back.  "Just to make sure
you haven't put an extra ingredient in there."
     "Of course," Antipas took a deep sip and then let out a satisfied
sigh, "There, gentlemen.  Perfectly safe for you both.  Now why don't we
have that conversation the two of you are so anxious to have with me?"
     Somewhat heistantly, Jabez stepped down and took one of the
chalices, "Let's start with the truth about who's responsible for the
death of the Security Chief.  They've got me under suspicion for that,
and all I did was follow your instructions when that henchman of yours
showed up on the Amargi."
     "Yes, that is an awkward situation that's developed," Antipas
remained cool as he took another sip, "He clearly exceeded his
instructions.  Not only did he end up killing the Security Chief, he also
still hasn't turned over the Herneith bracelet.  I'm afraid that man has
made things as difficult for me as he has for you."
     "Not 'as difficult', you little snitrod," Jabez took a deep gulp,
"Was it his idea to blow up my quarters, or was that your idea?"
     The Councilor laughed, "Come now, Jabez, that was simply my way of
disposing of some evidence you didn't want Security to uncover."
     "Well when it comes to disposing of things, your days are numbered,
Councilor," Dravius stepped forward, "From now on, you're going to see to
our needs or else you're the one who gets disposed of."
     "So it would seem," Antipas said quietly, but didn't change his
expression.  "Best you lay forth what it is you two want of me.  In very
specific detail, since I don't think there should be any misunderstanding
between us on this."
     Jabez was glancing at Dravius, feeling only confusion inside. 
Earlier, he'd been convinced that this was going to end with Antipas
being killed and no deals.  Was Dravius changing his tune now?  Had it
just been a ruse to get him to go along with the wanted murderer?
     What it meant for now at least , was that Jabez had absolutely no
idea how this whole thing was going to end, and it left him wishing he
could bolt for the door and get himself off the Rising Star as fast as he
could leave the ship.  But if he did that, he had little doubt that the
knife Dravius was now brandishing would end up in his back.
     Even so, as Dravius sat down and began to talk, Jabez found his eyes
glancing toward the door ever so slightly.


     "Well?" Lydia demanded as soon as she had finished.
     Adama dimly shook his head, "You're asking the impossible, Siress
Lydia."
     "Am I?" she leaned forward and brought her hands together, the rings
on her fingers shining prominently, "A sectar ago, I sat on a Tribunal in
this room that you went to extraordinary lengths to keep secret on the
grounds that what we had learned was not worth humiliating the life of
another, and I agreed with you on that, and so did Antipas.  Now why is a
man who has served the Colonial people with distinction since the
Destruction entitled to less than what was given the wife of mankind's
greatest traitor?"
     "That proceeding revealed that Claudia wasn't guilty of an actual
crime of treason, Siress, and you know that," Adama found her comparison
exceedingly distasteful.
     "Oh come off it, Adama," Lydia said with disgust, "I knew Ayesha in
those days, and maybe she didn't have anything to do with her husband's
plot with the Cylons, but she was no saint.  There are probably a dozen
unsolved matters of upper-class crime that she was involved deeply in,
and she practically admitted that in her statement about how she was
ambitious enough to give Baltar's career a boost if it came to acts of
corruption in the business and commercial realm.  Yet I didn't see you
anxious to delve into those matters.  It was all in the name of
forgiveness and mercy and charity to someone who's trying to make a new
life for herself now.  Well tell me what the difference is, since Antipas
has already tried to make amends by returning what's been recovered of
that collection to the Libran people?  And do you think he'd do any less
with the rest of it?"
     Adama was fast realizing to his inner horror that Lydia had him
completely on that point.  No matter how much of a difference it seemed
to Adama in his heart, in his head he knew that he'd set himself up for a
charge of inconsistency and showing favoritism to Baltar's wife if he
didn't do as she was demanding.  And the possibility of Lydia appearing
on the IFB charging Adama with favoritism to Baltar's wife on top of
alleged favoritism to Baltar himself, which he knew some segments of the
population still wrongly perceived to have been the case when he had
ordered the traitor's release, could only mean a political disaster of
epic proportions.
     "Siress Lydia," Adama said coldly, "If I agree to what you're
asking, there will be one stipulation that must be attached to it."
     "And that is?"
     "On the matter of Antipas's involvement in the actual theft of
artifacts from the Museum, he is entitled to a pardon since that was a
pre-Destruction crime," the commander's words were measured and forceful,
"However, if it becomes apparent that he is guilty of any criminal
wrongdoing connected with this matter since Dravius's escape from the
Spica, there will be no concessions from me.  Is that understood?"
     Lydia nodded, "Understood.  Antipas has already assured me that he
has had no involvement with any of these men and what they've done since
the whole trouble began with Dravius's escape.  And he certainly isn't
involved with anyone's termination."
     "Let us hope he's been honest with you about that, Siress," Adama
rose and said with just enough of a pointed edge to indicate what it was
he already suspected regarding Lydia's relationship to the Libran Sire.
     Her expression indicated that she knew what he was thinking, "I'll
only say this, Adama.  He's in a position where he knows he has to be
honest with me from now on."  She paused, "We have an agreement then?"
     For a brief instant, Adama felt his mind go back three sectars ago
to when he'd been forced to swallow his pride and give Baltar a promise
of freedom to insure the destruction of the baseship they'd encountered. 
He wondered why it was that this incident, which admittedly revolved
around matters of far less significance, left him with a deeper sense of
distaste than that one had?
     Nonetheless, like before, he rose from his chair and reached out to
Lydia to reciprocate the offered handshake.


     ".....For anything but a chance to sharpen my Pyramid skills, I
wouldn't be giving you the time of day," Starbuck was chewing on an unlit
fumarello as he studied his cards.
     Apollo chuckled, "Come on Starbuck, don't blame the messenger.  Vent
your wrath on Tigh for coming up with the assignment."
     "And extend my suspension?  Sorry, but you're more convenient. 
That's what a best friend is really for," Starbuck then moved his chips
into the center of the table, "I will hover with these, and now it's your
turn."
     Apollo glanced at his cards, "Hover, and raise five chips."
     "Likewise," Sheba said without batting an eye as she pushed several
more into the center.
     "Never knew you to be such a gambler, Sheba," Starbuck kept looking
at his hand.
     "Actually, I'm not.  I'm just looking for an excuse to lose as many
salt chips as I can since I can't stand the taste of them."
     "I admit, they are an acquired taste," Castor smiled sheepishly as
he took another look at his cards, "I fold."
     "Now that you run this division, Castor, the trick is to get you to
loosen up the regs when it comes to letting us play Pyramid for some real
stakes," the blonde lieutenant said as he pushed another ten chips into
the center.  "Your turn, Apollo."
     "Let's see now," Apollo studied his cards intently.  Before he could
make a decision, the audio-com next to Castor suddenly rang and the new
Security Chief promptly answered it, "Yes?"
     "Castor, this is Adama.  How many men do you have available right
now?"
     "Well actually, Commander, all of my men are either at their duty
stations aboard the Galactica or off handling investigatory matters. 
There's just me, and Apollo, Sheba and Starbuck and we're waiting for the
others to return."
     "Then the four of you get to work immediately, since something new's
come up."
        Apollo threw down his cards and came over to the intercom,
"What's happened, Father?"
     "Apollo, I want you and Castor and Sheba to get over to the Rising
Star and get down to Sire Antipas's quarters.  It's possible that either
Jabez or Dravius, or perhaps the both of them, are there.  Try to handle
it delicately since we have no idea if they're making an attempt on his
life or not, or just trying to blackmail him."
     "How is Antipas involved with them?" Apollo frowned.
      "I've no time to explain.  Council Security representatives will
meet you there and assist you as well.  I've told them to wait until
you've arrived and you can move in together.  But just get over there,
now!"
     "We will."
           "Ah, Commander wait!" Starbuck protested as he came over to
the intercom, "You didn't mention me......"
     "Yes, yes, I know, Starbuck," Adama said impatiently, "I want you to
go over to the freighter Nebulae and make sure that a crewman named
Spaulding is placed in protective custody.  And tell him that if he
cooperates, he'll receive a full pardon.  He'll know what I'm talking
about.  Now just get moving, all of you!"
     The silence then indicated that Adama had ended the communication.
     "You heard what he said," Castor rose, "Not a micron to waste!"
     Starbuck absently shook his head, "What'd I do to deserve getting
what I know is the dull part of the assignment?"  He then looked back at
his cards and with a sigh threw them down.  "If this game had been for
real money, I'd be a very unhappy man right now."
     Apollo gave one quick glance at them, "Perfect pyramid.  Boy, you
aren't kidding, Starbuck!  Catch you later."
     "Yeah," Starbuck shook his head again as he watched them all leave,
"Right."


     "Private accomodations here on the Rising Star would be completely
out of the question," Antipas went on, "But....there are other ships in
the Fleet that offer the possibility of dwellings that would certainly be
more agreeable to the both of you, based on a stipend that I can provide
every sectar."
     "Go on," Dravius sat across from him, the knife glinting in his
hand.
     "Yes, well there is the Pathmain, which houses the most diverse
assortment of kiosks and merchant outlets in the Fleet apart from those
here on the Rising Star----,"
     "I'm familiar with it," Dravius interrupted, "Not good enough.  You
need to make it here on the Rising Star at a bare minimum, Councilor."
     "Oh come on Dravius," Antipas gently shook his head, "You might be
able to change that face of yours quite often, but you can never conceal
your voice, your mannerisms etc.  And there are bound to be a few
merchants on this ship who can never forget a certain henchman from the
Association who knew how to strike some terror into them."
     "I can live with that risk," Dravius rose, his face twitching.  "Now
make it the Rising Star, or else this knife goes right through you in the
next few microns-----,"
     "Very well, very well," Antipas said nonchalantly and then cast a
glance toward Jabez, who was still looking nervous.  "That of course
would go for you too, Jabez."
     "You can really do that," Jabez spoke up.
     "Of course.  For goodness sake, would either of you have come here
if you didn't think I could?" he paused and then for the first time, the
politeness faded from his voice, "Unless you've been giving me a load of
felgercarb all this time and are just waiting for the right micron to
have me killed, no matter what?"
     Dravius flinched slightly and backed up an inch.  Antipas shot a
glance at Jabez and saw that he was biting his lip anxiously.
     "I guess I figured right, didn't I?" an air of contempt entered the
Councilor's voice.  "You came here to toy with me, and wait for me to act
frightened and humiliated before you moved in for the kill?  Well sorry,
Dravius, you're not going to get that satisfaction.  However, I can tell
you this.  If killing me is what you want to do, you are running short on
time, since pretty soon I think Siress Lydia will have sounded the alarm
to see to it that neither of you have any hope of getting out of this
section, let alone off the Rising Star."
     Dravius's eyes narrowed, "Why you lousy little-----,"
     "Damn it, I told you this was ridiculous!" Jabez's voice grew
panicked, "Antipas, please promise me you'll straighten out the matter
with Security about who killed the Chief!  That's all I want!"
     "Too late, Jabez," Antipas said with contempt, "I suggest you get
out of here quick.  I think you already know how foolish it is to think
you can get help from this guy," he pointed at Dravius with his thumb.
     "Don't listen to him, Jabez," Dravius had risen from his chair, "The
Councilor is now dead."
     "Not because I helped you!"  Jabez bolted for the door.
     "Jabez!" Dravius angrily called out, but there was no response as
Jabez pushed the button that opened the door and hurriedly dashed out.
     "Gutless little coward," Dravius hissed, "After I take care of you,
he's next!"
     "I think someone's about to beat you to it, Dravius," Antipas
smirked.
     "What?" the fugitive's face twitched violently.
     Five microns went by and suddenly from somewhere outside, the
muffled, but distinct sound of a laser blast could be heard.
     "My Troubleshooter," Antipas said with pride, "You see, I lied a
little while ago.  He's not so unreliable after all.  And what that
means, my dear Dravius, is that the instant you open that door and try to
leave this section, you're already dead."
     Dravius seemed dazed, as he stood there holding his knife.  To
Antipas, he had the look of a trapped, cornered animal.
     "Going to try to go down in a blaze of glory, Dravius?" Antipas
mocked.
     The fugitive lunged at Antipas, the knife just grazing the
Councilor's side.  Antipas grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to lock
his arms to his sides, to get Dravius to drop the knife.
     As Antipas and Dravius continued to grapple, the door behind them
opened.  Antipas managed to twist his head around to see that it was
clearly Kimo standing in the entryway.
     "Kimo!" he shouted, "Kill him!"
     The Troubleshooter dashed over to where the two continued to
struggle.  Antipas managed to deliver a blow to Dravius's mid-section
that sent the fugitive staggering backward.  Which was all Kimo needed to
aim his laser pistol right at Dravius's chest before he opened fire.
     Within microns, the wanted fugitive had collapsed to the floor face
down, making no movement.  Nor would he ever make a movement again.
     "Are you all right, sir?" Kimo came over to Antipas, who was
straightening himself.
     "Yes," Antipas sighed, "Yes, I'm fine.  Good work, Kimo."
     "As soon as I saw Jabez running from here, I took care of him
immediately and had to see if you were okay."
     "He's dead?" Antipas asked quickly.
     "If he is, then so is Jabez." Kimo said.
     "Good," Antipas nodded as he came over to Dravius's dead form and
pulled the bloodstained knife out of his hand.  "Well, that takes care of
these two.  That leaves just one final thing."
     "Yes, I'll have to see Dr. Colin again, as you said."
     "No," the Libran shook his head, "No, you won't need to do that. 
I'll simply be telling everyone that you, as my personal bodyguard moved
in and took care of these two as they threatened my life.  A pure case of
self-defense that would carry no punishment under Colonial
jurisprudence."
     "I'm glad to hear that," Kimo sounded relieved.
     "Unfortunately, there is still the matter of the Security Chief's
death aboard the Amargi, for which, like it or not, is something you can
not escape."
     The Troubleshooter frowned, "Sir?"
     Without saying anything, Antipas abruptly rammed Dravius's knife
right into Kimo's chest.  Kimo let out a horrified gasp as he collasped
to the floor and the made not another move.
     "By the power vested in me as a member of the Council of Twelve, I
find you guilty of the Security Chief's termination and hereby carry out
the just punishment of the death penalty, as restored to Colonial
jurisprudence under the Baltar Statute," Antipas said under his breath. 
"This was not a pre-meditated murder, this was the dispensation of
justice, sparing the needless necessity of a pointless Tribunal." 
     He then wiped off his fingerprints from the handle of the knife and
went back over to Dravius's body, where he calmly placed the knife back
in the hand that had been clutching it when the fugitive had collapsed to
the floor.  Then, he came back over to Kimo's dead form.
     "In the act of bravely saving my life from this madman, Kimo, you
were unfortunately stabbed to death," Antipas said as he pulled the
Troubleshooter's laser pistol out of his hand.  "So sorry."
     He could hear the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps from
outside his chambers.  Antipas quickly made his way over to the sofa in
the middle of the room and took on a look of drained exhaustion as he
collapsed into it, just microns before the door opened.
     "Sire Antipas?"  Apollo's voice sounded urgent as he led Castor,
Sheba and a team of three Council Security guards in.  "Sire Antipas, are
you all right?"
     With a wary expression, Antipas looked up, "Captain Apollo," he
whispered, "Thank God."

                         Chapter Six

     Several centars later, there was a meeting in Adama's office with
all of the key participants in the day's events.  The Commander's
expression was completely subdued as he listened to Antipas recount the
details of what he had also told Apollo, Sheba and Castor earlier in the
day.
     "......I had already instructed my bodyguard, Kimo, to take up
position outside my quarters and watch for those two even before I sent
Lydia my warning message."  Antipas said as Lydia held his hand in
support.  It was a gesture that did not go unnoticed on Adama's part, nor
that of Apollo and Sheba.
     "Jabez's body was found a considerable distance from your quarters,"
Adama said.  "What happened there?"
     Antipas sighed, "Well, what happened was that Dravius tried to kill
the both of us.  He....was clearly the more demented of the two of them,
which I guess is something he picked up from his time with the
Association.  And once Jabez realized he couldn't rely on Dravius, that's
when he fled, and because Kimo was watching for him, and saw him fleeing
from my quarters, he assumed the worst and took matters into his own
hands."
     "Not very prudent on his part, to have had his pistol set to kill,"
Adama noted with just a faint amount of dryness.
     "Adama, Kimo was warned to be on the lookout for two men who had
threatened my life.  He simply did what any good bodyguard would have
done in that situation," Antipas said matter-of-factly, "Surely you can
understand that!"
     "Of course," Adama nodded, "Continue."
     "Well.....when Kimo entered my chambers, Dravius and I were
struggling.  Dravius made some attempts to stab me, and Kimo, since he
couldn't shoot so long as Dravius had a hold on me, then stepped in and
had to get us apart, and.....well," he visibly shuddered, "That's when he
was stabbed and killed, and.....when he dropped his laser pistol, I had
to move in quickly and get my only chance which was to kill Dravius by
shooting him."  
     He shuddered again, and Lydia quickly patted him on the book, "It's
all right, Antipas.  It was a frightening experience, but it's all over
now.  It was purely an act of self-defense," she then looked over at
Adama, "Isn't that right, Commander?"
     Adama was silent for several microns, his gaze piercing before he
finally nodded, "Yes, I think I would agree.  There's no need to even
bother with a Tribunal investigation of the matter.  Not regarding this,
or....past matters associated with events prior to the Destruction."
     "Thank you, Adama," Antipas seemed grateful, "I....realize of course
that what I did five yahrens ago was a horrible, stupid mistake, and you
have my word that all the remaining elements of the Collection will be
returned to the Libran people for them to enjoy aboard the Akrabi."
     "Yes, we've recovered the shares that were being stored in Anglin's
and Spaulding's chambers," Adama said, "It's too bad that what Jabez was
keeping was lost when he sabotaged his quarters and killed Lieutenant
Didion.  That would mean that the Herneith bracelet is lost to us
forever."
     "Is it?" Antipas lifted an eyebrow, "I didn't know that was part of
his stash.  At any rate, Adama, I am prepared to contribute a stipend to
the Akrabi's  treasury of 1000 cubits per sectar to be used for the
betterment of Libran culture, and of all those who live and work aboard
that ship.  At the very least it can be my final amend for robbing such
an important part of Libran culture and history."
     "Your contribution to be anonymous of course," Adama said.  "The
only final thing, Sire Antipas, is that legal title of the collection,
will be placed with the Akrabi's Captain, and not with you as senior most
member of Libran authority.  Stipulate to that, and then we can consider
all matters pertaining to this as a closed subject for good."
     "Of course," the Libran sire nodded.  "Thank you, Adama."
     The commander then shifted his attention to Apollo, Sheba and
Castor.  "You are not to mention a word of what you have learned in this
meeting to anyone.  I want that understood from all of you.  It is a
subject you are never to acknowledge to anyone, regarding Sire Antipas's
involvement in this affair.  Is that understood, on your solemn oaths as
Colonial warriors?"
     Sheba nodded without saying anything, as did Castor.  It took Apollo
several microns before he found the strength to do so as well.
     "The only final matters concern Anglin and Spaulding," Adama said,
"Since neither of them were involved in any of these unfortunate events,
they too will receive full pardons and will be free to return to their
regular duties aboard their respective ships.  In the case of Anglin,
that's assuming he makes a full recovery from this."
     "Adama, there is one thing I need to clarify regarding that,"
Antipas said, "Dravius was responsible for stabbing Anglin, not Jabez. 
He admitted that to me during our confrontation."
     "Well I suppose at this point, that doesn't make much difference,
but it's good to have all the details cleared up," Adama then rose,
"There is one thing I would suggest, Sire Antipas."
     "Yes?"
     "I think in light of all I have decided to do, it would be in your
best interest to maintain a decidedly low profile regarding any areas of
potential conflict between us on Council matters." his voice grew
slightly cold, "At least for the short term."
     Lydia flushed slightly and seemed on the verge of offering an angry
retort but Antipas slowly nodded, "Of course, Adama.  Naturally, whatever
positions I take on matters we discuss on the Council will be ones of
principle, but rest assured, I have no desire to generate any sentiment
against you in the Fleet."
     For now at least, Adama said the words to himself that he knew
Antipas was also thinking.
     "Thank you," Adama said politely, "You may go.  This subject is now
closed.  Just as another subject remains a closed matter between us."
     "Of course," Lydia nodded, "Good evening, Adama."
     "Good evening," Adama bowed and waited for Lydia and Antipas to
depart.  He shook his head faintly as he saw how Lydia kept a protective
arm about the Libran's shoulder as she led him out.
     As soon as the door closed, Apollo started to say something but his
father glared at him and vigorously shook his head, indicating that he
wanted silence for now.
     "I meant what I said," he said forcefully, "The three of you are
sworn to official secrecy regarding the events of this day and what you
have heard from Sire Antipas and should there ever be any public
revelations on the part of any of you, I will consider it a violation of
your oaths as warriors and grounds for disciplinary action all the way up
to official court-martial."
     "Commander," Castor said quietly, "A final report summary will be
needed for our records.  Is it to be a sealed record of the truth, or a
false one for the open file?"
     "That will be dealt with in due time," Adama said calmly, "In the
meantime, Lieutenant, as new chief of Colonial Security, you are to issue
an edict to all members of your team who have played some role in
investigating this matter in the past, that at my directive, it is now a
closed subject they are not to investigate or ask questions about any
further.  And any violation of this on the part of one member of your
team will require me to reconsider the decision made to elevate you to
your new position."
     "Yes sir," Castor wasn't about to argue with him.  "Am I free to
go?"
     "Yes," Adama's tone softened, "And for what it's worth, Castor, you
did an outstanding job under some difficult circumstances.  You have my
full confidence as far as your future duties are concerned."
     "Thank you, Commander," Castor gave Adama a salute as he then turned
and left, leaving only Apollo and Sheba in the room.
     "All right, Apollo," Adama said, "Let it out, since this will be
your only chance to do so."
     "Father, you've made a horrible mistake," the veins were throbbing
in Apollo's neck, indicating how angry he was, "Antipas's story is full
of holes.  I don't believe that's how things unfolded in his quarters."
     "I don't believe it either, Apollo," his father said quietly, "I'm
convinced he's guilty of at least one pre-meditated murder.  Just which
of them, I'm not certain, but at the very least he would have had to have
killed one of them for everything to turn out as.....pat as it did."
     "Then why don't you----."
     "I can't," Adama cut him off.  "If I tried to push for an
investigation of how things unfolded, especially when there's no tangible
proof to justify it, then Antipas and Lydia will end up hurting a lot of
innocent people who don't deserve to be hurt."
     "Who?" Apollo demanded.
     Adama shook his head, "I'm not at liberty to tell you, Apollo.  Let
me just say that they're closer to you than you think."
     "Yourself?" Apollo didn't let up, "Is this all about keeping the two
of them from making life difficult for you on the Council?  You know damn
well that Antipas is going to go back to trying to undercut you sooner or
later!  And this was your chance to get rid of him as a problem forever,
and you blew it!"
     "Apollo!" Sheba protested, "That's going too far."
     "I'm sorry, Sheba, but what else can I say?" Apollo was letting
loose, "I mean, how in the name of Kobol do you expect me to keep my
mouth shut forever whenever that leech makes another attempt to undercut
you and this whole Fleet from what our objective should be?  This is a
guy who wants to be President some day, and we know he's guilty of
something that should have sent him to the Prison Barge, but you expect
me to not say anything about it?"
     "Yes I do, Apollo," Adama said quietly and then rose, "For the same
reason I expect you and Sheba to keep quiet about a certain Derelict ship
the two of you encountered recently.  And for the same reason I expect
you to keep quiet with Boxey regarding the matter of who Anglin really
is."  He paused, "The principle is ultimately the same.  And since you've
both shown you can keep a secret buried regarding those matters,
especially the first one, which concerns something of greater potential
risk to the Fleet than Sire Antipas remaining a member of the Council,
you can certainly do so with this one."
     Adama let his words hang in the air before he went on, "Is there
anything else you want to say, Apollo?"
     His son drooped slightly and shook his head, seemingly spent, "No, I
guess not."
     "Sheba?"
     She sighed, "Not really, Adama.  Except.....I know that whatever
reason made you make this decision has to be one I can ultimately
understand, even if I can't agree completely with it.  You've.....always
been a fair judge of things, and I know there has to be a fair reason why
you even had to make a decision like this."
     "Thank you, Sheba," Adama said gratefully, "I appreciate that."
     "I guess we'd better go and see how Anglin is doing," Sheba turned
to her fiancee, "Apollo?"
     "Yeah, I guess so," Apollo didn't look at his father as he left the
room, with Sheba following.
     Alone, Adama sadly shook his head and then found himself looking up
as if he wanted to ask for forgiveness from the Almighty.  But even then,
he knew that no matter how much regret he might feel, he'd been left with
no other alternative to do what he had done, and that all he could do now
was to move on.
     And at the very least, recognize that he now had not one, but two
potentially dangerous enemies on the Council he'd need to keep an eye on.


     "Apollo?" Sheba asked with concern, "Are you going to be all right?"
     "I'm not sure," Apollo avoided looking at her, "For the first time,
I'm actually ashamed of a decision my father made.  Even when he had to
do something I didn't like, when he released Baltar, I could understand
ultimately what he was getting at, because he explained everything.  But
this time he didn't, and I guess I can't understand why."
     "He has to have his reason, Apollo, and we have to respect it,"
Sheba said, "And like he said, it's not as if there aren't some more
important secrets we need to be keeping as well.  Like the Derelict. 
And-," she then chose her words deliberately, "The fact that Anglin is
Boxey's father."
     Apollo stopped in his tracks and seemed to bristle, just as Sheba
expected him to.
     "I said it that way for a reason, Apollo.  Because it occurred to me
that we were dancing around the subject all day long using euphemisms, as
if we didn't want to say what it actually means because to say it that
way would only cause a lot of unnecessary hurt.  Well, maybe my saying
something like that aloud can give you a better understanding of why it's
possible that there are some things just as painful that Adama doesn't
want to see opened up, if he had to act the way we wish he could have
regarding this."
     He looked her in the eye and Sheba wondered again if it would be
with anger or understanding.  To her relief, she could tell it was the
latter.
     "I'm fast learning another reason why I love you so," Apollo said,
"You have such a great sense of.....perspective about things."
     "I learned a lot about keeping perspective from my father," Sheba
smiled, "And your father has a great sense of it too."
     They reached the Life Station and saw Cassiopeia standing by the
Life Support pod with a cautious expression 
     "Cassiopeia?" Apollo asked with concern.
     The med-tech looked at them, "He shows signs of coming too, Apollo."
     "That's terrific," Sheba said, "So it looks like he should recover,
then?"
     "Hopefully." Cassiopeia said and looked down, "You can see for
yourself."
     Apollo and Sheba looked down and could see that Anglin, his
expression nearly white from blood loss, was moving about slightly, his
mouth open.
     "I think he's saying something," Sheba noted.
     "Yeah," Apollo nodded and leaned over.
     They looked down and could see his head moving violently back and
forth.  What almost seemed like a pained expression lined his face. 
Finally, they could hear some distinct words being formed.
     "Ser...ina," Anglin whispered, "For....give me.  Please, for...give
me."
     Apollo and Sheba both exchanged stunned glances with each other. 
Cassiopeia also seemed amazed.
     Suddenly, Anglin opened his eyes and looked up, "What....where am
I?"
     Cassiopeia recovered quickly and smiled down at him, "You're in the
Galactica Life Station, Anglin.  You're going to be okay."
     Anglin buried his head deep into his pilow, "My God, I....for a
micron I thought I was....." he looked up, "It's going to be okay? 
They....caught that...Dravius?"
     "Dravius is dead," Apollo said quietly, "And as far as the matter of
what's in your quarters is concerned, Anglin, you can forget it.  Total
amnesty on that.  Once you recover, you can go back to what you were
doing."
     "Amnesty," he said the word disbelievingly, "You mean.....that's
over too?"
     "Yes," Sheba said gently, "It's a closed subject, Anglin.  Like the
captain said, you can go back to what you were doing."
     A micron went by and then Anglin faintly shook his head, "No," he
whispered, "No, I'll never go back to what I was doing.  I'll
just.....start anew.  A....clean slate."
     Apollo suddenly found himself smiling faintly.  He looked over and
saw that Sheba was doing the same thing.
     "Good attitude, Anglin," Cassiopeia reached down and gently patted
his shoulder, "You get some rest, and Dr. Salik will let you know how
long we'll need to keep you here."
     "Yeah," Anglin sighed, "Yeah, I'd like to sleep." he then looked up,
"Thank you."
     "Don't mention it, Anglin," Apollo said, meaning the words literally
as he and Sheba walked away.
     When they were outside, Sheba shook her head in amazement, "That's
incredible, what we just saw."
     "Yeah," Apollo agreed, "And the strange thing is, I really think
that somehow, somewhere, Serina's forgiven him.  And if she has,
well.....then I know I can too." he looked behind him at the closed door
that led to the Life Station, "He wants to start anew and make something
better of himself, so let's give him that chance.  And maybe in a few
yahrens, we'll all be older and wiser enough for us to say whatever needs
to get said then to each other.....and to Boxey."
     "Maybe," Sheba nodded, "At least now we know how to properly handle
this secret, and have a clear conscience about it."
     "I guess so," Apollo extended his arm, "It's been a long day, Sheba,
so how about sharing a drink with me in the Club?"
     Sheba smiled and took his offered arm, "Captain, it'll be my
pleasure."


     Conversation between Lydia and Antipas had been largely minimal
during their journey back to the Rising Star.  Only the glances they
exchanged with each other, and Lydia's constant hold on his hand
indicated what they wanted to do next.  Once they arrived in Antipas's
quarters, they wasted little time expending pent-up passion on each
other.
     After several centars of lovemaking, Lydia found herself waiting
until Antipas finally drifted off to sleep.  Then, she quietly rose and
without bothering to put on any clothing, stepped out of the bed chambers
and into the main room.  Without turning on the light, she made her way
to the far wall where Antipas's special safe lay mounted.
     Once before, during one of their earlier evenings together, she had
quietly watched him remove objects from that safe through a pair of tiny
magnifiers.  She had been able to focus on his hand entering the digits
that would unlock it, and then memorized the number, convinced that at
some point, if their relationship ever became more serious, that she
would have a reason to use that information.  Now, that time had come,
and she needed to confirm a suspicion that had been building inside her
ever since Antipas had first confessed to her.
     Glancing behind, to make sure she wasn't being watched, she then
entered the combination and then quietly opened the safe.  A shining
object stood out like a beacon in the near-darkness of the room and she
smiled mischievously as she realized that her suspicions had been proved
right.
     Queen Herneith's bracelet, I presume, she thought, as she removed it
and then quickly closed the safe.  So much for your story about Jabez
cracking and destroying his quarters himself.  And so much for that
felgercarb you told Adama about not knowing it was part of the stash,
when Adama said it had been destroyed.  You either took this off Jabez's
dead body, or you had it removed from there much earlier.  Like by your
now dead bodyguard perhaps, who knew something that wouldn't have made
you look particularly good?
     Lydia's smile widened as she placed the bracelet around her arm for
just a brief micron in admiration and then took it off again.  Quietly,
she returned to the bed chamber and saw that Antipas hadn't changed his
position since she'd slipped out.  She went over to the chair where her
discarded Councilor's robes lay and quickly stuffed the artifact inside
the pocket of the inner tunic worn underneath the formal outer white
robes.  Once it was secure, she then went over to the bed and calmly
switched on the light.
     "Mmmm," Antipas stirred slightly.
     "Antipas, I'm sorry, but I couldn't sleep and I decided it's best I
go back to my own chambers."
     "Oh...," the Libran rolled over, "Are you feeling okay?"
     "I'm fine," Lydia said, "It's just that.....I need to go now.  Since
I'm going to make enough noise as it is getting dressed, I thought I'd
just turn on the light and let you know."
     "Thank you," Antipas looked at her with a sense of admiration,
"You're a remarkable woman, Lydia."
     "And you're a remarkable man, Antipas," She smiled and began to
dress, "I think you and I will make a very interesting team."

     "Of course," he nodded, "We should at least give Adama his decent
interval before we do anything else."
     "Yes," Lydia agreed as she slipped on her underwear first and then
grabbed the inner tunic that contained the object she'd just stuck inside
it, "At least a sectar or so.  And then, whatever happens after that, we
should feel free to speak our minds regarding anything that happens."
     "Sound thinking," the Libran sire smiled.  "You've been very good to
me, Lydia.  I'm grateful for that."
     But there are clearly limits to your gratitude, aren't there, my
dear Antipas? She thought without changing her smiling expression.  At
least for now, I can take advantage of the fact that you're in need of a
new Troubleshooter.
     "I want what we have to be very productive, Antipas," she said as
she wrapped her formal outer robes about her, patting her side once just
to feel the concealed bracelet underneath.  "And I have every confidence
it will be."  She then turned out the light, "Until next time, darling."
     "I will look forward to it," Antipas said pleasantly as he dropped
back on to the bed.
     Once Lydia had left his quarters and was outside in the brightly lit
corridor, she began to sprint rapidly as if her life depended on it.  She
had to act quickly to make sure everything would be secure.  Even though
Antipas conceivably might not open the safe for days, the sooner she had
this taken care of, the better.
     She returned to her quarters located on the other side of the Elite
Class section and quickly locked the door.  She then grabbed her telecom
and punched in a special number.
     After three chimes, a groggy male voice answered, "Hello?"
     "It's me, Jarvik," Lydia said urgently, "Get over here, immediately. 
Preferably in the next five centons, since there's something urgent I
need to talk to you about.  I stress the word, talk."
     The voice of Lydia's personal shuttle pilot, who had been in her
employ for ten yahrens and had at one time been her lover, sighed, "Yes,
Siress.  I'll be right over."
     Lydia hung up and waited anxiously.  She knew that Jarvik was
reliable, but on this occasion, she hoped he would demonstrate that more
than ever.  The worst thing that could happen was Antipas discovering his
missing item too soon and getting over to her quarters before Jarvik
arrived.
     When she heard the door chime, she knew she couldn't answer it right
away without asking who it was, "Yes?"
     "It's me, Siress," she heard Jarvik's voice.
     The gods be praised, she thought as she opened the door and saw him
standing there, hastily dressed.  He was still a remarkably handsome man,
though she had to admit that when it came to what she enjoyed most,
Antipas had given her more satisfaction.
     "Come in, Jarvik," she motioned, "I needed you to come over because
I want you to take charge of this."
     Lydia then reached inside her tunic and pulled out the bracelet,
placing it in his hand.
     "What do you want me to do with it?"
     "I want you to take charge of it, and place it inside a special
compartment of the shuttle," Lydia said, "And never let anyone have
access to it but me."
     "What's it for?" her shuttle pilot frowned.
     "It's an insurance policy," she smiled, "Something that will keep a
certain Council member from ever threatening me if he were to somehow
grow displeased with me."
     Jarvik nodded, "Of course, Siress.  I understand completely."
     "And Jarvik," she added a sensuous edge to her voice, "If you do
your job well concealing this, I might be able to oblige you sometime
with a happy reminder of old times."
     Jarvik smiled in acknowledgment, "Thank you, Siress.  That will
definitely be a pleasure."
     "Goodnight, Jarvik.  And thanks."
     As soon as he was gone, Lydia went over to her bed chamber, kicked
off her sandals and dropped on to the bed, letting out a contented sigh.
     The perfect end to a perfect day.  And as far as she was concerned,
it was all just the beginning for her.

                         Epilogue

     "By your command."
     The throne chair turned around and Lucifer looked down on the
centurion who had entered.  "Speak."
     "Our patrols have found indications of space debris in the adjacent
quadrant.  The composite elements were scanned and reveal a match to
those for a baseship."
     "Hmmm," the IL noted, "Total confirmation was not possible?  No
debris that contained Cylon markings?"
     "Negative.  The traces were rather small and would not have been
detected but for the increased concentration you had ordered."
     Another sign of IL greatness, Lucifer thought with a satisfied air. 
"Inform our sister ship that we will be maintaining our position for now
to allow for a greater concentration of activity in this and the adjacent
quadrant.  I want our patrols to keep scanning for every last trace of
debris there is to be found and, we shall remain here until we find total
confirmation that we've found the final resting place of Baseship 1974."
     As the centurion turned to leave, Lucifer saw another one entering. 
This was one of the upper division ones, identical in appearance to the
standard drone centurion in terms of silver plating, but who spoke in a
higher toned pitch.
     "By your command."
     "Yes?" Lucifer clearly realized that something new had just been
discovered.
     "Our communications monitor has picked up signs of unusual signals
emanating from the system on the outer edge of our patrol sweeps."
     "Unusual?  How?"
     "The communications were somewhat fragmentary, and occasionally
blocked by interference.  But there were signs that some of them matched
some older known versions of Cylon code."
     "Some of them?" Lucifer sounded puzzled, "But not all of them?"
     "No.  Some of the ones that were clear suggested a different origin
entirely from those that seemed to match the older Cylon code."
     "Older Cylon code?  How much older?"
     "Indications are that this code was replaced nearly nine sectars
ago."
     "Ah," Lucifer said, "Baseship 1974 was most outdated, and had not
been in contact with the High Command for quite some time.  Chances are,
if there are survivors from her somewhere out there, they are still
operating on their older programmed banks.  Can you pinpoint specifically
which planet these particular signals come from?"
     "Not at this time.  Interference has been heavy, and the conflicting
signals from elsewhere make it difficult to pinpoint with total
precision."
     "Then, we shall attend to those signals later when the situation
improves," Lucifer's tone was firm, "In the meantime, have our patrols
continue their search for more signs of space debris.  I want to be able
to make a report to the Imperious Leader within the next few cycles that
we have at last discovered the fate of our missing baseship."
     "By your command."


     .....Fleeing from the Cylon tyrrany, the last Battlestar, Galactica,
leads a ragtag fugitive fleet on a lonely quest.  A shining
planet.....known as Earth.