Battlestar Galactica: Final Farewell
Virtual Second Season, Episode 8
By Eric Paddon
Epaddon@aol.com

From The Adama Journals

     I find myself this evening curiously pondering the matter of Apollo
and Sheba's deep patrol mission, which they returned from three centars
late, yet without reaching the maximum range of where they were supposed
to scan.  Initially, when they returned, they stated that they had
developed internal maintenance failures in their vipers that required
powering down systems for repairs and necessitating termination of their
planned patrol range.  That explanation seemed odd given how both Apollo
and Sheba fly vipers that are so finely tuned and cared for, no
maintenance failure should have developed.  But I felt no reason to doubt
that story at the time.
     Now, six centars since their return, my puzzlement has deepened
because of a terse conversation Apollo shared with me not long ago. 
Apollo said that there was something of grave importance he wanted to
talk about in another cycle or two concerning the patrol, but that it
would have to stay off the record given its sensitive nature.  When I
asked my son why he could not share this information this evening, he
said there was something more important of a personal nature he needed to
do first.  And in order for him to take care of that, he practically
pleaded for a Gold pass for the Rising Star for tonight.
     I sense that the reason why he wants to go to the Rising Star is
because he has something important he finally wants to say to Sheba.  It
could be that something of a traumatic nature happened on this patrol
that while not concerned with anything that could affect the safety of
the Fleet, had an impact on both Apollo and Sheba in terms of the
relationship they have been involved with for some three sectars now.
     With some reluctance, since I do not like to use my authority to
grant special privileges to a family member, I granted his request and he
and Sheba have now left for the luxury ship.  If my suspicion is right as
to the purpose of this trip, then I will consider it an honor for Sheba,
the daughter of my close and dear friend Cain, to be one step closer to
becoming my daughter as well.  And the Lords willing, one day Cain will
return from wherever he is now to experience the joy of that knowledge as
well.
     And now, an evening of bureaucratic matters await me, as I find the
pending tribunal of both Samuels and Wilmer still carries difficult
questions as to whether the time is right to enforce the newly restored
death penalty statute in their case.  I hope to hear from a Kobollian
linguist later this evening as well to see if the papers Starbuck found
that belonged to the so-called 'Silent One' from Proteus, have yielded
their first fragmentary clue at long last.  And following that, a review
of Boomer and Athena's probationary assignment aboard the Agroship, and
whether I can begin consideration of restoring them to regular duties.
     My principal thoughts though, will remain with Apollo and Sheba,
with the hope that this will be a crucial night for them, and that from
it they can find the strength to make Boxey understand the prospects of
what lies ahead for him as well.

                         Chapter One

     Ever since the Exodus from the Colonies had begun more than a yahren
and a half ago, and daily cycles could no longer be measured by the sun
for anyone, a conscious decision had been made to set all chronometers in
the Fleet to Caprican Standard Time, in deference to Commander Adama's
status as Caprica's official delegate to the Council of Twelve.  Since
then, the entire population of the Fleet, numbering more than 70,000 from
all twelve worlds, had long grown acclimated to the schedule.
     As befitting a Fleet that was now entering the chronometer's evening
cycle, activity aboard the 220 ships in the Fleet now reached the
slow-down phase where only nightwatch duty crews had a full load of work
ahead of them.  For pleasure and recreational outlets like the Rising
Star, there would be an upswing of activity for several centars as those
with passes and cubits indulged in the luxury ship's pleasures, but for
most of the Fleet's population, the time had come to relax after a day's
work.  Especially for those stationed aboard the giant, multi-domed
Agroship that was responsible for growing more than 70% of the food eaten
in the Fleet, as well as maintaining rare plant life samples indigenous
to the twelve worlds.
     In the main Lounge, which also served as the official mess hall for
Agroship workers, Boomer disdainfully eyed the plate of food he'd taken
from the self-service line and shook his head.
     "You know," he said, "The one thing I thought would be an advantage
working on the Agroship would be getting fresher food, but they process a
lot of it into slop just as bad as what we get on the Galactica."
     Athena, who had been gently nibbling at the items on her own tray,
put her utensils down and glared slightly, "Are you trying to make me
lose my appetite, Boomer?"
     "Sorry," the dark-skinned warrior sighed, "I think I'm just starting
to feel a bit of burnout after nearly two sectans of being cooped up on
this ship, waiting for the Commander to finally make a review of our case
and let us come home."
     "You're that anxious."
     "Who wouldn't be?  Athena, I'm a warrior, not an agro-worker, and I
really don't enjoy being a translator much either.  I swear, I almost
felt ready to bang my head against the wall this afternoon after having
to explain their sentences to Carmichael again.  They can really drive a
guy nuts!"
     Athena sighed and reached out and touched his hand, "Come on Boomer,
you really don't feel that way about them, do you?"
     "Nah," Boomer shook his head and exhaled, "I just....guess I was
bound to hit a wall mentally at some point, and.....today was it.." he
picked at his tray, "I really didn't mean what I said about the food
either.  It's a lot better than the Galactica's.  And of course, being
here on the Agroship with you has.....been productive in other ways too. 
It's just that.......I want to get back to the work I like best, and if I
could just get a firm announcement on what the timetable's going to be
for that, I won't have to have the kind of mental crash I've been feeling
today."
     "Well for what it's worth, I've gone through a couple of those
myself," Athena said as she sipped her container of fruit drink.  "I
actually dreamt the other night that I was reporting to the Bridge and
finding I'd been away so long that now Omega outranked me."
     Boomer chuckled, "Somehow, I just can't envision the idea of Omega
in charge of anybody.  But the Bridge wouldn't be the only option for
you.  You could always request a transfer back to Viper duty and I know I
could make sure you ended up in Red Squadron."
     "If you could do that, you should have been able to talk your way
out of this current assignment for us," Athena smirked and then shook her
head, "No, I don't think I'm ready to go back to that.  Ki gave me enough
excitement to last a lifetime.  I think more and more I'm beginning to
regard myself as content to be shipbound for the rest of my military
career and leave the hotshot exploring to those who have a natural
instinct for it."
     "Well whatever you decide is okay with me, so long as you feel happy
about it," Boomer took a bite of his food.  "If....we're to carry things
on, we have to be willing to accept what it is the both of us like best."
     "Of course," Athena looked askance somewhat as she took another sip
of her drink, "But....Boomer, do me a favor and let's not talk
about.....us tonight.  I.....kind of need a few cycles to give what we've
been doing a little more thought."
     "Sure," Boomer didn't show the slightest sign of displeasure.  He'd
come to value what he'd already shared with Athena a great deal, but even
he wasn't sure if he was ready to consider the idea that they were one
step closer to considering something more permanent.  Like Athena, he'd
need quite a few centars of solitude and self-reflection before he could
consider something like that.
     And so, as they went through the rest of their dinner, the
conversation shifted to matters of the Agroship's operations, and how the
giant ship was trying to now diversify by transferring some of its
functions to smaller support ships in the Fleet.  Of Pili and Kudur-Mabug
and whether the two Kians could ever completely adjust to a setting so
many thousands of yahrens ahead of the life they had previously known. 
And of Athena's family and their mutual friends.
     Their conversation was in the kind of low tone that made their words
indistinct to all those in the Lounge seated at the nearby tables.  Their
voices blending in with the voices rising at the same level from the
other tables so that to someone at another table, it all just sounded
like a mumbling din where everyone else might as well have just been
saying, 'waterfruit, cabbage leaf' or other random words, and the sound
would have been the same.
     But within the Agroship Lounge, every word Athena and Boomer said to
each other was being heard clearly.  By an unseen presence.  The unseen
presence of a white-garbed figure who stood next to Athena and Booner's
table, listening to every word, and smiling faintly as she remembered and
recalled two people she had known well in the time the Fleet had been
home to her.
     But now, for the woman in white with the waist-length brown hair,
home was a different realm entirely.  One that required her presence to
remain forever unseen to those she had known and loved.  That was the
rule, and she knew it had to be obediently followed without exception. 
The way of things for all those of faith who had departed the realm of
the living to begin an eternity of service to the Almighty.
     "I'm glad I could finally see this side of you, Boomer," she said,
knowing that neither of them, nor anyone else could hear her.  But even
though her words would be unheard and acknowledged, she also knew that
her presence could have an effect on the subconscious of the one she
spoke to.  That was how 'advising' was always done, as she had been told. 
And now that she understood the nature of her power, she had at last felt
secure asking to visit this realm that she had once known, knowing that
after more than a yahren since her death, the request would be granted.
     "You were never one to open up much about yourself," she went on. 
"I guess that's why you always seemed a bit closer to Starbuck than
Apollo.  The two of you could more easily bounce things off each other as
equals.  And Apollo, he was always the older authority figure who had to
see things on a different level."
     She then took a step closer so that she was now right over Boomer's
shoulder as he continued to talk
     "Now let me talk to you about something you've never been open about
to anyone.  Because you know if you did, they'd say you were crazy to
think about it and to not give it another thought, and you wouldn't feel
any inner release over it.  There is a part of you that feels responsible
for the fact that I'm dead.  The night I died, you spent eight sleepless
centars in your bunk staring at the ceiling brooding because you thought
I was to blame for the fact that I'd been called out of the shuttle
program to crash Viper training.  Because you made the mistake of not
going directly to the Life Station after you got back from the mission
and saw Jolly developing those symptons, and instead went to the Officers
Club for the surprise party Blue Squadron was giving Apollo.  That was
how every other pilot in the Squadron got exposed to that virus and
became incapacitated, and why I was part of the group that got called
into service.  You actually spent that entire night thinking that if it
hadn't been for your mistake, the pilots wouldn't have gotten sick and I
never would have been called into Viper duty.  And as a result, you
reasoned, I wouldn't have died."
     She was now an inch behind him.  Now, she lowered herself so that
she was speaking into his uncomprehending ear.
     "From time to time, you still think that unspoken thought.  It hits
you during centons of lonely self-reflection.  And it's had a lot to do
with why until Athena, you never let yourself socialize much with women,
as if you didn't think you deserved that kind of happiness with a woman. 
I'm glad to see you're moving forward with Athena and getting beyond
that, but it's time to put the other matter to rest forever."
     She paused and then spoke in a slow, measured tone of gentle
authority.  "My being a Viper pilot had nothing to do with how I was
killed.  I went down to that planet with Apollo and Adama to help them
explore the ancient ruins and look for clues to Earth, and it was only
because I had normal clearance as a shuttle pilot that I was qualified to
go there.  But even if I'd needed Viper clearance, then I would have
pulled strings with Adama to go down there because this was something I
*wanted* to do.  I would have just let my old inquisitive skills as a
journalist get the better of me, just like I did at Carillon when I
insisted on going down there with Apollo and taking Boxey with me.
     "So I'm telling you now, Boomer.  You're to never let this unspoken
thought of responsibility and guilt pop into your mind again for as long
as you live.  It's based on a wrong assumption, and there is nothing
worse then letting a wrong assumption borne out of ignorance affect us,
even if only for a few isolated centons like it has for you.  Let it be
purged forever from you."
     She then rose to a standing position.  "Let me leave you with one
final thing, Boomer.  Thank you so much for saving Boxey's life that time
you were all trapped in the Rejuvenation Center.  You proved how blessed
Apollo is to have friends as courageous and brave as you."
     As Boomer and Athena continued their conversation, she moved to the
other side of the table and now stood behind her one-time sister-in-law. 
There was a feeling of slight sadness in her as she gently shook her
head.
     "Oh, Athena," she sighed, "Apollo was so right about you when he
said you were the one in the family who took after his mother.  I've had
a chance to see how true that is.  Maybe you didn't inherit her hair and
eyes, but everything else is just like Ila.  At least.....until the
Destruction happened, and you had to see Zac killed almost before your
eyes, and then find out you'd lost your mother too.  That left you
scarred in ways I could see clearly, when you and I used to talk to each
other.  Especially that time you were helping me with the dinner on the
night Apollo and I announced our engagement."
     And then, she stopped as the memories of that conversation came back
to her in a flash.........


     ".....I can't tell you how glad I am you're here to help me with
this, Athena," Serina sounded out of breath as she loaded the heavy
roasting plate that contained a large sized slab of meat designed to feed
six people into the Mess Hall oven.  For over two centars, she and Athena
had taken over this section of the battlestar's kitchen area to prepare
for what Serina had only told Athena would be a 'very special dinner'
that evening in the Commander's quarters.
     "Anything to help you out, I'd gladly do, Serina," Athena smiled
brightly as she started putting away some of the cooking utensils that
would no longer be needed now that the roasting process had begun.  She
then turned to her and smirked a bit, "Just between the two of us, is
there a big occasion connected with this dinner tonight?"
     Serina returned the smirk and shook her head, "You'll have to wait
until tonight to find out if there is any.  Which I'm not saying there
is."
     "Don't worry, I think I can guess.  My brother has a certain look on
his face that I've always known from experience can only mean one thing. 
But I promise, not to say anything more until tonight."
     "If you need to," Serina added with a teasing edge.
     "Well, whether I need to or not it'll be nice to have a roast like
this again.  I can't believe there was anything this good left in the
Fleet!"
     "Some leftover stores from Carillon that have been kept frozen for
special occasions like this," Serina went over and made sure the heat was
at the right setting.  "Rest assured, Athena, no one amongst the masses
is being deprived of a good meal because the Commander's family is going
to indulge for just one night."
     "Well I'm sure my father never would have allowed that if that
possibility were remotely true.  He's really quite the moralist when it
comes to that."
     "Not just a moralist," Serina sat down in one of the chairs against
the compartment wall, "Your father is a man of deep faith, and he lets
that faith guide him.  That's a quality to admire in anyone, Athena."
     Athena's expression grew slightly awkward as she looked away and
resumed putting the utensils away.  
     "Did I say something wrong, Athena?" Serina frowned.
     "It's nothing," Athena shook her head as she finished and closed the
drawer where the utensils were kept.  "You.....don't need to keep your
eye on the meat.  If anything goes wrong, it'll shut off by itself."
     "Athena," Serina got to her feet and placed a hand on her shoulder. 
"Please tell me."
     The black-haired lieutenant sighed and kept looking down at the
floor, "It's just that.....when I hear anyone talk about faith,
I.....feel as if I want to start screaming my head off."
     "Why?" she asked, genuinely concerned, "Do you mean you're a
skeptic?"
     "That's too mild a word to describe how I feel," Athena kept
avoiding her face, "The day after the Destruction, I went from being the
most devout believer who never failed to read the Book of the Word every
day and say an evening prayer to a total unbeliever, and there's nothing
that can make me go back again.  I wouldn't ever think of forcing my
views on my father or Apollo or anyone else, but.....for me, there's
nothing I can have faith in again.  Not from a religious standpoint at
any rate."
     Serina felt somewhat shaken inside at hearing this unexpected
revelation from her.
     "If the Destruction made you lose faith, Athena, then that's not a
sign of unbelief, it's a sign of anger."
     "It's the same thing ultimately," Athena was still avoiding all eye
contact with Serina, "If there is a God, He wouldn't have allowed the
Destruction to happen, and for me to hear my brother's panicked voice
before the Cylons blasted him, or for my mother to die.  But if something
horrible like that could happen, with no sense of justice at all in the
universe after more than a thousand yahrens of fighting, then there can
be no God, because I can't accept the idea of an unjust God, and that's
the only kind that could exist if there really was one."
     A feeling of sadness came over Serina as she patted her on the
shoulder.
     "It's a natural feeling to have in the face of tragedy," the former
journalist said in a gentle, sisterly way, "All of us have seen our lives
touched that way because of what happened last sectar.  And in my case, I
had plenty of it in my life long before the Destruction ever happened. 
But....I learned a long time ago that you need to persevere in the face
of tragedy, and not presume to question the One who made the whole
universe as to why things happened that way, and why we find ourselves in
this position now, traveling aimlessly through the stars."  She paused,
"Athena, there's a lot more to what true faith means then the kind of
simple, blind faith that only good things happen to loyal believers.  If
you could let me----,"
     "Serina," Athena abruptly cut her off and kept looking away, "I know
you mean well, but....I don't want to talk about this.  Not now or ever. 
My father's learned to accept my feelings on this and doesn't try to
convert me back, and......I don't want there to be any unpleasant words
between us about this."
     Slowly, Serina nodded, "Okay, Athena.  But.....someday, you might
want to reconsider.  About having a talk about it, I mean."
     "Maybe," she finally forced herself to look at her, "If I change my
mind about talking about it, I'll let you know.  I'll promise you that
much," she then forced herself to smile and change her tone, "Now you go
up to your quarters and get ready for the meal.  I'll keep an eye on this
and then make sure kitchen personnel have it delivered to Adama's
quarters on time."
     "Of course," Serina managed to smile back, "Thanks again for the
help, Athena."
     "For this, I hope it won't be the last time.".........


     In the blink of an eye, she had relived all the details of that
conversation.  Recalling the regret she'd felt over never having the
chance for another talk with Athena about the subject.  And feeling
regret over how more than a yahren later, Athena's skepticism remained a
constant.
     "Athena," she said as she stood behind her.  "I always wanted to
have another talk with you about the meaning of true faith, and why it
was something I kept in the face of all the traumas I went through in
life before the Destruction, and even afterwards.  But if you could hear
my voice now, I wouldn't try to convince you just because of where I've
come from.  In fact that's one of the reasons why none of us can ever
appear directly to those we knew and loved.  Because we know that if we
demonstrated that power, we'd see the ability for true freedom of will
and the expression of true faith taken from the human race.  If the
Almighty and His servants appeared constantly to remind people of what
exists beyond this life for those who are faithful and true, then we'd
ultimately become nothing more than automatons reacting from instinct,
without being able to gauge what truly lies in the heart and the soul. 
True faith comes not because of how the mind sees the cold, intellectual
reality of how things are, it comes only because of what the heart
believes and knows without having seen anything tangible.  And that's why
even now, I can not appear before you to provide you with the simple
proof of what the truth is.  That the God you rejected does exist and is
not the capricious being you felt He had to be if He did exist.  That
must remain something you have to reason your way back to in your own
heart, and through your own freedom of will."
     As she had done with Boomer, she now knelt beside her so she now
spoke into Athena's ear.
     "Do not close your mind and heart to the possibility of regaining
your faith," she said.  "You've seen in the last yahren how wrong it was
to close yourself off after you realized you'd lost Starbuck for good. 
How it only made you feel miserable inside over what you felt you'd lost
in life, instead of reaching out and looking for new opportunities.  You
might not have needed a traumatic experience like being on Ki to open you
up.  But at any rate, now that you've finally learned how foolish that
was, and found something with Boomer that could lead to something very
special in your lives, try at least to apply that same wisdom to other
things in your life too.  And then one day, you'll then find you've been
able to make life more rewarding than you ever could have imagined it to
be."
     She then rose to a standing position again, knowing that it was now
time for her to leave the realm of this ship.
     "Goodbye Athena.  It may have only been for a brief time, but my
love for you as a sister will always be strong.  As will my hope and
prayer that you can find the joy of both happiness in this life, and
salvation in the next."
     And then, with everyone still engaged in their conversation, her
presence faded from the room.  Now there were other realms within the
Fleet for her to visit.  And more farewells that needed to be said.


     "....I think I'm ready to head out of here," Boomer said as he threw
his napkin down,   "Feel up to watching the triad match on the vid-com
next door?"
     "No," Athena smirked, "Because I already know you'd be bad company
watching your own partner Castor, paired with someone as bad as Greenbean
is."
     "Well, you got that right.  This probationary assignment already
means this triad season is a washout for our team.  Got to wait four
whole sectars before it starts fresh again.  But....", he shrugged, "No
reason to brood about why I won't get a crack at the title this time
out."
     "Now that's a switch.  I never expected you to be
that.....philosophical about that."
     "Maybe I'm suddenly developing a new perspective on things," Boomer
said, as he wondered why all of a sudden, he no longer felt as bothered
inside about things in general like he'd been when the dinner had begun. 
It was as if somehow, during the course of the dinner conversation,
everything about the frustration of being on probation, the annoyances of
Pili and Kudur-Mabug, of missing out on triad had vanished in the blink
of an eye.
     Along with something else that he realized he'd been letting himself
think about again earlier in the day when the frustrations had piled on. 
The unspoken feeling of guilt that he'd never expressed to anyone before
about something that had happened a long time ago.
     "Anyway," Boomer went on as he rose from his chair, "If you want to
go for a walk in the Dome's public garden, I'm game, but if you'd rather
just go to your quarters, I understand."
     "I think I will tonight," Athena said as she rose, "For some reason,
I.....feel like catching up on my reading."
     "Oh?" Boomer lifted an eyebrow as he picked up his tray of dirty
utensils and half-eaten food, "Anything in particular?"
     "I'm not sure, but.....I think I'll know," Athena said, as she too
found herself wondering why she suddenly felt a desire to do something
that she hadn't once considered in the last yahren and a half.  Which was
to find either a copy of the Book of the Word or a theological
commentary.
     As they parted company for the night, the Agroship Lounge was now on
the verge of being deserted.  The normal evening cycle had now taken hold
of the great ship completely.

                         Chapter Two

     The evening cycle meant the climax of a day's work aboard the
Electronics Ship, which among its many duties servicing the Fleet, was
also the base of operations for the Inter Fleet Broadcasting (IFB)
network that fed programming to all video-com screens in every ship. 
Though they were required to provide programming for all centars of the
cycle, this early evening phase meant the peak period when the population
would be watching their news and information programming, and for the
Director of Operations, this was always the time of day that gave him the
most excitement and intensity.  At that centon, he was watching the
closing segment of the regular news broadcast, and then the triad match
aboard the Rising Star would take up the schedule for the next few
centars.  Because news co-anchor Zed was required to be on the luxury
ship to handle the sporting match, that meant tonight's Evening Report
would have to be handled solo by co-anchor Zara.  Which was something the
Director of Operations never looked forward to.  Not that Zara and Zed
were all that much better when they worked together, but whenever one of
them had to do the news solo, that only magnified their faults, and
always made the Director yearn for the days when he had seen the news
done so much better.
     Heller leaned back in his special chair in the IFB nerve center,
located one deck below the studios where the news was broadcast from, but
from where he had access to monitors showing all camera angles, as well
as monitors of IFB cameras stationed elsewhere in the Fleet.  Whether
here or back on Caprica in a similar room at the studios of the Broadcast
Network of Caprica (BNC), this place always seemed like a seat of power
for Heller.  It was the kind of work environment he'd loved throughout
his entire thirty yahren career in broadcast journalism, and even if he
had to now deal with less competent anchors like Zara and Zed, he could
never consider walking away from it.
     "......Earlier this afternoon, there was an important ceremony
aboard the Libran vessel Akrabi to celebrate the return to Libran
authority of some rare art treasures that were believed lost forever some
five yahrens ago when they were part of the most massive theft in that
Colony's history."
     "'The most massive?'" Heller winced as he motioned the technical
director to stand by for the next camera switch, "Who writes her copy for
sagan's sake?  And that sentence just ran on forever!"
     "You know our Zara.  She always insists on handling it herself even
if it sounds bad when you repeat it aloud."
     "Do I ever," Heller sighed as he continued to listen and wait for
the micron.
     "......Although the recovered treasures amount to no more than 25%
of what was taken from the Libran Antiquities Museum, there was no
mistaking Sire Antipas's enthusiasm, as he presided over the ceremony."
     "Okay, switch to Antipas's taped comments!" Heller motioned.  The
IFB feed now showed remarks made earlier in the day by a beaming Sire
Antipas.
     "This is such a great day for myself and for all Librans in the
Fleet to see these priceless relics of our planet's history restored to
us at last.  And it also gives us hope that perhaps one day, the
remainder of this great collection, as well as lost treasures from the
early history of the other Colonies, might surface some day as well."
     "Sire Antipas," the off camera voice of a reporter could be heard,
"Some of the representatives aboard the Akrabi expressed concern over the
fact that legal title to the artifacts was placed with you, personally. 
What is your reaction to those concerns?"
     "I consider them groundless," the young Council member said in his
smooth tone of his voice, "The legal title is but a mere technical
formality, since as the only member of the Council of Twelve who hails
from Libra, this places me by default as the highest ranking Libran
authority in the Fleet.  But my legal title to the collection is purely a
propriety matter on behalf of the Libran people, and in no way is to
indicate any claim of personal ownership whatsoever.  And as you can see,
all of these will be maintained for the people to enjoy at their own
leisure."
     He motioned the camera to focus on the most valuable artifact in the
collection.  The tiara of Nefer III, Queen of Libra during the early
third millenium, more than four thousand yahrens ago. 
     "Get a load of that," the technical director said, "You can just
picture the most beautiful woman ever wearing something that good."
     "Read your history books sometime," Heller smirked, "They say that
all the vid-com dramas that depict Nefer as the ultimate seductress bear
no relationship to reality.  Supposedly she had charisma that could charm
men, but that was to compensate for a face that included a hooked nose."
     "Boy, I hope that isn't true," the technical director sighed as he
threw the switch that brought Zara's face back on the screen.
     "......and to recap our lead story, there remains an increasing
frustration from the family members of those who were murdered by the
members of the so-called 'Association' crime ring aboard the Rising Star,
that the tribunals of both Samuels and Wilmer have yet to begin.  With
both men facing the death penalty under the so-called 'Baltar Statute'
passed by the Council three sectars ago, it seems evident to those who
seek justice that swift action is required to show that the restoration
of the death penalty was for a reason far greater than a political move
designed by Commander Adama to defuse criticism surrounding the traitor's
release."
     "Oh boy, thanks a lot for the editorializing I asked you not to
slough in again!" Heller rolled his eyes.  "Stick to the news and let the
people decide!"
     "This concludes the Evening Report for tonight.  Stay tuned now for
coverage of this evening's triad match from the Rising Star where Zed
will be calling the action.  His guest analyst this evening will be from
the number one ranked triad team, Lieutenant Starbuck."
     "And roll closing music and we're off!" Heller leaned back in his
chair and sighed.  Now from his standpoint, his work day was over and he
could go back to his quarters on the passenger ship Demos and let the
evening shift handle the programming until the next morning.
     "Another broadcast for the history books, right Heller?" the
technical director said.
     "Nothing we've ever done since we got started belongs in the history
books," Heller sighed, "Not with them anchoring."
     "Well, they were the only ones available who survived the
Destruction, so that's why we're stuck with them for who knows how many
more yahrens."
     Heller said nothing as he continued to lean back in his seat.  He
didn't feel like saying that there had been one other news anchor who had
survived the Destruction.  Someone he had worked with for six yahrens and
at times had even thought of as the daughter he'd never had.  And who had
been the best natural news anchor he'd ever seen in his life.
     Serina, he thought sadly for perhaps the millionth time in the last
yahren and a half.  Why did you turn your back on the thing you were best
at to become a warrior and lose your life?  You should still be here
today giving the Fleet a real voice of reason to look up to in
journalism, and not substance-free phonies like Zed and Zara always have
and always will be.
     As he continued to lean back in his chair, he remained blissfully
unaware of the white-garbed presence that now formed behind him, and
which now looked down on him with a faint smile of affection and sadness.
     "You haven't changed a bit, Heller," she said as she looked over his
shoulder, "Still the old-school newsman to the core.  You never stopped
talking about why you fired Zed from the BNC yahrens ago and made him go
to Gemon to find a new anchor job.  And yes, I can remember how you liked
to boost my ego by telling me how so many people on Cancera kept trying
to pick up our signal instead of having to listen to Zara's broadcasts on
the CCS."
     She placed a hand on his shoulder, which she knew he couldn't feel. 
"To you, the only thing that mattered in the business was natural talent
and ability, and what makes you a special man is how you'd always be
willing to do anything to help someone you believed in, no matter what
their plight happened to be.  Like you did with me, all those yahrens ago
when I did my first internship at the BNC between sessions at University. 
And you were the only person I could confide in on what was the worst
night of my life."
     She stopped as her mind went back to relive the details of another
conversation.  Eight and a half yahrens ago on Caprica..........


     "I'm sorry the semester break is ending," Heller was saying as
Serina sat across from him in his office at the BNC studios in Caprica
City.  "Having you on the staff made this the most enjoyable time I've
had putting a news program together."
     "Thank you, Heller," Serina said, trying to smile, but it was
seemingly a forced effort on her part.  "It's been an honor to learn from
you."
     "Well, I just hope that in two yahrens time, when you graduate, you
send your credentials to me, because I can literally guarantee you a job
here at the BNC as a reporter and secondary anchor just based on what
you've done here."
     Serina smiled again in that forced way, and then glanced down at the
floor.
     "Serina, is something bothering you?" Heller raised an eyebrow.
     "There is actually," she kept staring at the floor, "But......I
don't know if I should----,"
     "Whatever it is, you can tell me," the BNC director's voice took on
a paternalistic air, "Because believe me, Serina, I'm interested in
anything you have to say."
     She forced herself to look at him, "I....appreciate that, Heller. 
You've been so kind to me, not just as a teacher, but, well almost like
a......."
     "Father figure, I know," he finished for her, "Well, that's because
I always have an interest in young people with genuine talent, and that
includes hoping their lives are in order so they can put that God-given
talent to use."
     "Well, I guess I should tell you then, because.....well because this
could affect my ability to work as a journalist."
     Heller leaned back in his chair and his eyes narrowed in concern,
"Go on."
     Serina took a breath, "A sectan ago, I found out that I'm pregnant."
     The BNC director came forward and stared at her, and Serina could
tell there was disappointment inside him.  And she couldn't blame him for
that, since she had always projected nothing but a sense of strict moral
responsibility in the time she'd worked for Heller, which she knew was
another trait he admired about her.
     "It....happened because about a sectar ago, I celebrated my coming
of age by having a date with a boyfriend of mine at University. 
He.....wasn't anyone special, just one of several I've gone out with,
but.....that night he was available so I asked if he'd take me out and he
did, and....." she lowered her head in embarrassment.
     "Okay," Heller said gently, "Your natal day celebration got out of
hand.  You don't need to give me the details."
     "We were both drunk," Serina said, "Neither of us meant for it to
happen, but it did and.....well that's why I'm pregnant."
     "Okay," he said again, "But....difficult as that is, it's not
insurmountable, Serina."
     "It might as well be with me.  You see.....he refuses to take
responsibility.  In fact, he's been pressuring me to get a termination
because he doesn't want his parents to find out.  And that is not an
option for me, because I think termination is an evil practice, and I'm
not about to let an innocent child suffer because of mistakes made by the
parents."
     He nodded in admiration, "That's very noble of you, Serina. 
But....there have to be other options....."
     "He's not leaving me with many," she interrupted, "I won't give up
this baby for adoption either.  I want to take responsibility for it,
but...he isn't willing.  I'm even willing to get sealed to him and make
the best of it even though I don't love him, but......he's too scared. 
In fact, this morning I found out that he......."
     "He what?" Heller was very concerned.
     "He's disappeared," Serina sighed, "Disappared as if he vanished
from the star system.  I'm convinced he cleaned out his trust fund money
and used it to get as far from Caprica as he can, because he doesn't want
to face either his parents, or me and his child."
     "I see.  In that case, shouldn't you contact his parents?"
     "I tried that," Serina shook her head, "They refuse to speak to me
or provide me with any support.  As far as they're concerned, I'm a slut
who seduced their son and led him astray and they think I was probably
angling for a way to get a big share of their personal wealth.  That
happens to be total felgercarb, but I can't get anything from them."
     "This is serious then," Heller stood up and came around to the front
of his desk, where he sat on the edge.  "You're looking at two more
yahrens of University before you graduate, but in eight sectars, you'll
have this baby."
     "I know," Serina sighed, "My....family estate could only provide me
with one more yahren of schooling before I'd have to devote all my
energies to this child.  But unless I graduate, there's no possibility of
finding a meaningful job that could let me provide for the child.  You
know how strict the labor codes are when they require a University degree
for a solid professional job."
     "Like broadcast journalism," Heller sighed, "Yes Serina, I know all
about those labor codes, and I've always felt they discriminate against
those who can't afford a University education, but since I'm not in the
Caprican Assembly, I can't do anything about that."
     "I know," Serina nodded, "But.....maybe I could drop out of
University now, and you could find me some low-level job at the BNC that
could let me make do?  If....I could start with that, I might have a
chance to make something of this nightmare.  I......don't want to lose
this baby.  I want to be able to have it and provide for it, even if I
can't rely on its father to take responsibility."
     Heller brought his hands together in contemplation, "Serina, what if
you only had one yahren left of University and had your degree by the
time the child is born?"
     Serina's eyebrows knotted in puzzlement, "Well, if I only had a
yahren to go, I'd have a chance at being eligible for a professional job
that could provide necessary child care service, but-----,"
     "Then accelerate your timetable, Serina," Heller said firmly, "That
is my advice to you.  You are brilliant, and while I know it would
require a lot of extra work to double up your classes, especially while
you're pregnant, I think you can make a go of it.  At the very least, you
can get yourself close to being finished by the time the child is born so
that at most you might only need one more semester of classes to finish
which you could still be able to manage.  Show the kind of determination
to succeed that I've seen you show in this internship, and I think you
can do it.  And when you've done it, there'll be a job waiting for you
here at the BNC in a yahren and a full benefit program that can let you
take care of your child even as you work."
     Serina seemed in a daze, "It's....possible, but,"
     "That's all that counts," Heller gently cut in, "It's possible. 
Especially for those who are gifted like you, Serina.  You go back to
that University and you do it.  Make me proud of you, and make that child
you're going to have proud of you.  You're too good to let some bum ruin
your life because of his character defects."
     She got to her feet and managed to smile, "I guess I can take that
as a directive, can't I?"
     "You'd better believe it," Heller said as he reached out his hand,
"I'll see you in a yahren at your University graduation ceremony."
     When Serina left the office, she finally felt as if the day that had
begun on such a black note for her, was ending on a positive note with
answered prayer.......


     "You literally gave me the courage and inspiration to take that
challenge of finishing University in a yahren," she went on as her mind
returned to the present.  "Boxey was two sectans old when I accepted my
degree in that ceremony, and the next day you'd hired me for the BNC and
I began six happy yahrens of my life until the night of the Destruction. 
And I have you to thank for those happy yahrens, because I may have had
the talent to succeed as a journalist, but you gave me the inspiration to
not let go of that dream in the face of adversity.  And you and your wife
were always such good friends to the both of us during that time and made
the BNC seem more like a family than a workplace to me.
     "You were also there for Boxey and me the night of the Destruction. 
Abandoning your post in the remote studio to help drag us into a shelter
while the Colonnade and the Presidium were going up in flames around us. 
And then, we made our way out from the city with the others in our group
and that's how we found Commander Adama and Captain Apollo by the ruins
of their house on the western shore.  So.....you were there when the next
important phase of my life began."
     She paused for a brief micron and then smiled crookedly, "Do you
remember how after Adama said he needed to make a broadcast to all the
survivors about how they needed to leave their worlds in anything that
could carry them and rendezvous with the Galactica?  'Let the word go
forth,' he said, but we had to relay the message a little less eloquently
in that emergency bunker studio up the coast from Adama's home.  I
remember how much you and I both wanted the last ever broadcast in
Caprican history to be done with some dignity as we relayed Adama's
message.  And then after we set up the recording to repeat the message
for another cycle until the signal ceased, it was time to go, and that's
how we made our ways eventually to the Galactica.  But we ended up in
separate ships, so that's why we never really saw each other again, even
though we both knew we were still alive."
     She knelt beside him and once again, the words were spoken directly
into his ear.
     "You always wondered why I never accepted your offer to help start
the IFB, and why I quit journalism to become a warrior.  I guess maybe
that's because we reacted differently to the Destruction.  You still had
your wife, and you needed a chance to find a way of continuing the life
you'd known on Caprica in the work you loved.  You needed continuity and
familiar surroundings, in the way this control room is just like the one
in the BNC Studio.  Without continuity, it would have been hard for you
to adjust.
     "But I was different, Heller.  For me, the Destruction was more of a
cleansing by fire, in which I had to put aside the life I'd known before. 
I had a.....new sense of desire to just help out in the most productive
way I could think of to help this quest for Earth, because it was
something I believed so strongly in.  And I just couldn't see myself
doing that as a journalist any longer.  The only thing I saw myself doing
was reading out censored military press releases, which wasn't the kind
of work I'd like.  I'd have been forced into more of an....adversary type
role as a journalist, with the military establishment becoming my new
enemy.  And that just wasn't something I wanted to do.  Not when I
believed so much in Adama's vision, and......also when I found myself in
love with Apollo.  Once I saw that the Destruction had opened a new door
in my life and Boxey's by leading me to Apollo, it was so much easier to
regard journalism as part of a past life that I could say goodbye to with
no regrets."
     And like before, her voice now took on that gentle, pointed edge of
authority.
     "So what it comes down to Heller, is that there was nothing you
could have said or done that would have diverted me from the path to
becoming a warrior.  You've always thought that because you were the
father-figure who rescued a frightened, innocent young adult one time who
had no idea of what she could do to avoid a dangerous situation, that
you'd have changed my mind.  But I was a different person by then,
Heller.  Someone who had to answer another call, and a new challenge in
life.  And while I know this isn't easy for you to understand, it's not
something to have regrets over.  When you think of me, I don't want you
to think about what you couldn't have done a yahren and a half ago.  I
want you to think only of the inspiration you gave to me when it was
needed most, and use that as your example to inspire other people you
feel need it."
     She then rose to a standing position, and sighed, "Goodbye, my dear
friend.  The Lords bless you in the time you have left to you."
     Her time ended aboard the Electronics Ship, her presence faded from
the room.


     "Heller, why are you still glued to that seat?  You're off now."
     "Huh?" the Operations Chief came up in his chair as he heard the
night director's voice.  
     "You're off.  Unless you want to actually listen to Zed set
sportscasting back another five hundred yahrens again."
     "No way," Heller rose and stretched himself.  "Sorry, I was
just.....thinking about something.  I guess I let my mind wander a bit."
     "Easiest thing to do when you have to listen to our anchors all day
and night long.  See you tomorrow."
     "Right.  Good night."
     As Heller stepped into the turbo lift that would take him to the
docking lounge, and then a shuttle to his quarters aboard the Demos, he
found himself remembering Sheba's visit several sectans ago when she'd
asked for vid-com tapes of Serina's old broadcasts.  So she could study
them and perhaps learn something that could assist her in trying to make
a connection with Serina's son, Boxey.
     I hope she learned from them, he thought as the lift doors closed. 
Serina was one determined woman.  Whatever she wanted to do, she did it.
     As the doors opened and he stepped out into the Lounge, he frowned
as he felt himself considering something he'd not fully understood for
more than a yahren and a half.
     Whatever she wanted to do, she did it, his mind repeated.  And by
the Lords, if that meant she was determined to become a warrior, there's
nothing I could have done to stop that, for better or for worse.  That
all stemmed from her own nature that made me admire her so much and see
how special she was.
     By the time the shuttle Canaris arrived to take Heller to the Demos,
he knew he'd never have another personal regret in his mind about
Serina's final chosen path again.  And for some reason he couldn't
fathom, he almost felt a sense of peace over that realization.

                         Chapter Three

     The evening cycle that took hold of the rest of the Fleet was always
noticable aboard the Galactica as well.  Like the other ships, the great
battlestar tended to be more alive with activity during the day cycle,
with all of the top command level personnel seldom taking part in a night
shift unless circumstances required their presence and a sleepless night.
     The Life Station was not one of those places where top personnel
were needed at night.  For Cassiopeia though, tonight was an exception
since she had decided to take responsibility for all of the night
supervising operations.  Med-techs as a general rule rotated their way
through this assignment, fulfilling it on an average of once every four
sectans.  Tonight it was her turn, and Starbuck she knew had been very
displeased to find out she wouldn't be available for a date tonight. 
Going out with Cassiopeia was the only excuse Starbuck would have had to
give Zed and the IFB a reason for not being the expert analyst during
tonight's triad match.  But once Cassiopeia had told her boyfriend she
had no chance of getting Salik to give her the night off, a dejected
Starbuck had decided to endure the pleas of the IFB and do it, especially
since he'd at least get a few hundred extra cubits for his trouble.
     Still, Cassiopeia had to admit there was one nice thing about having
night supervisory duty.  All she had to do was sit in what was normally
Salik's office and just keep an eye on the life support monitors for any
patients in the Life Station, and be quick to act in case any readings
started to fluctuate.  And to be on call in case anyone working night
duty required medical attention.  For Cassiopeia, she had the luxury of
no patients currently receiving treatment, which meant no systems to
monitor, and no indication that anyone would need assistance tonight.  So
until something happened, she was free to sit in the Chief Medical
Officer's office, and watch the triad match on his vid-com.  Just to see
if Starbuck was bearing up under the pressure of working his first game
as a broadcaster.
     ".......And good evening ladies and gentlemen.  From our
broadcasting booth here on the Rising Star, you are now looking live at
the empty triad court below, which in but a few microns will bear witness
to the first match of Season #3 in the Colonial Triad League.  And for
the next three sectars, we here at the IFB will bring all of you live
coverage of all the key matches, culminating with a championship match,
and the question of whether it will be three in a row for the defending
champions of Apollo and Starbuck, or whether the torch will be passed to
a new team anxious to stake out personal glory for themselves." 
     Still pompous as always, Zed, Cassiopeia thought with disdain as she
settled back in Salik's chair, resisting the temptation to place her feet
on the Chief Medical Officer's desk.  That was a no-no that Salik never
tolerated.
     "This evening's match though is not without its share of
controversy.  Pitted against the Gold Team of Sergeant Barton and
Sergeant Cree, is the Blue Team of the well-respected Sergeant Castor. 
But tonight, the man who has been part of the number two-ranked team of
the first two triad seasons, has a new partner in Ensign Greenbean, as
his usual partner, Lieutenant Boomer is currently on probationary
assignment, and as a result is ineligible to play triad until further
notice.  How his replacement, Ensign Greenbean, who never played on a
triad team ranked higher than #7, will fare with the muscular sergenat,
is a question that will be answered this evening.
     "And now it is with great pleasure that I introduce our expert
analyst for this evening.  He is well-known throughout the Fleet for his
skills as a warrior, and as one-half of the championship team that has
dominated the previous two seasons.  I refer of course to that
fleet-of-foot, agile and nimble-handed master of the triad court,
Lieutenant Starbuck."
     The camera pulled back to reveal a visibly uncomfortable Starbuck
sitting next to Zed.  Immediately, Cassiopeia's eyes widened when she saw
that her boyfriend's hair was still the dark color from his undercover
assignment as "Rogelio" more than several sectans ago.
     Starbuck, you were supposed to rinse in your normal color if you
were going to appear on the IFB tonight!, she thought with near horror.
     "No ladies and gentlemen, there is nothing wrong with your vid-coms. 
The lieutenant is sporting a new shade on top, but the voice is still the
same and we are all anxious to hear his thoughts on how tonight's match
should shape up."
     Starbuck's eyes darted slightly to his left, as he caught sight of
himself on the monitor in the booth.  Right away, Cassiopeia knew that he
had just remembered his hair, and that he was also wishing he could punch
Zed out for having called attention to it.
     "Ah....right, thank you ah.....Zed.  Happy to be here.  Well ah,
triad fans, this should be interesting tonight, cause we've got a couple
of players who are ah, ah.....always putting on a good show whenever you
put them on a triad court.  You take Sergeant Castor for instance, he's
built stronger than a Taurean bull, and that means you can.....well you
just can't play gentle with him on the court!  You give him the ball, and
before you know it he's smashed his way through the defensive zone faster
than you can say ah.....well real fast, that's it!"
     Cassiopeia could see the sweat forming on his forehead and she
cursed herself for not having pleaded with Salik for the night off.
     "Ah, thank you Lieutenant, very perceptive analysis," there was the
barest hint of sarcasm in Zed's voice, "But to get to the crux of the
matter, how will being paired with someone of demonstrably less skill
than Ensign Greenbean, affect Sergeant Castor's game strategy?"
     "Well, Sergeant Castor's a smart player, I think he can compensate
for just about anybody he might be paired with."
     Cassiopeia was now hanging her head in embarrassment.  Starbuck had
just swallowed Zed's bait by agreeing that Greenbean was 'someone of
demonstrably less skill.'    She knew that the blonde ensign would be
anxious to take a punch at him for that as soon as he heard about it.
     Just keep hanging yourself Starbuck.  By the time this game's over
you're going to have every warrior who plays triad standing in line to
kill you.
     "Now of course, Lieutenant Boomer, the man who usually plays
alongside Castor, is not with us tonight because of......"
     "Because of reasons which are not related to triad playing, Zed,"
Starbuck cut him off and there was no mistaking the testy edge in his
voice.
     "Naturally, Lieutenant, since as we all know, probationary
assignments are never handed out for reasons related to the game of
triad." Zed retorted with the same edge in his voice.  "But even so, it
is amazing that such action, which is unprecedented since the organized
competition began, would have to have been taken for a man of his
considerable skills and background."
     "Well, life is often full of unexpected twists, Zed," Starbuck had
to grit his teeth to force a smile.
     "Of course, and we've seen that in the past with you as well,
Lieutenant," Zed parried back.  Starbuck sounded like he was ready to
retort, but the camera swung away from him and without skipping a beat,
Zed added,  "And without further ado, we pause now for this important
public service message."
     Cassiopeia shut off the vid-com and placed a hand on her forehead as
she shook it from side to side.  She knew that the next time she saw
Starbuck was not going to be a pleasant experience for her, since she
would have to give him all kinds of reassurance after this disaster.
Feeling the need to get away from the now silent vid-com, she got to her
feet and decided to make a personal inspection of the largely empty Life
Station.
     As Cassiopeia left the office, she was totally unaware of the
presence that had now emerged behind her.  Following her out into the
Life Station and then stopping behind her when Cassiopeia stopped to make
notations on the equipment.
     "We didn't get much of a chance to know each other," she said to the
uncomprehending med-tech.  "But I know we still felt something of a bond
with each other since we'd both been in the middle of that horrible
nightmare on Carillon, when Apollo and Starbuck rescued you from the
Ovions, and saved Boxey from the Cylons down on those levels. 
And......when you told me you were giving up the life of a socialator to
become a med-tech, that was something I could both admire and relate to,
since it wasn't too unlike my decision to leave journalism to become a
warrior.
     "You were so kind and sympathetic the night I died, and I could see
that when you working alongside Salik trying to see if there was any
forlorn hope left, but finally having to admit the obvious that there was
nothing you could do.  And that made you break down when you had to tell
Starbuck, Boomer and everyone else waiting outside that it was all over. 
That....made me realize what a caring person you are.  And.....that's why
I'm not surprised to see that you and Starbuck finally gravitated toward
each other.  I'll admit, at the time I was hoping more for Athena and
Starbuck to patch things up, but.....that's not important any longer.
     "What is important for you, Cassiopeia, is that you show the kind of
patience with Starbuck that will let you hang on to him.  And that means
being prepared to wait a while longer before he might dare try to take
your relationship to something more serious.  Maybe much longer than
you'd like it to be.  The bottom line is that you've seen him change his
ways since you started going out with him.  And for anyone to make
Starbuck do that, has already shown what kind of a special woman she has
to be."
     She paused as she knew the most difficult subject needed to be
mentioned next.
     "But there's one problem that worries you most," she said slowly,
"And that's the matter of Starbuck's father.  And whether you should tell
him the truth because he doesn't feel like he needs to see Chameleon any
longer.  But if you did that, you'd have to face his being angry over
your not telling him that information before.  And you're worried if that
could cause a rupture in your relationship that could never be healed.
     "Cassiopeia, I wish it were in my power to tell you exactly
everything you need to do as far as handling that situation goes, but
there are limits.  The most I can tell you is that you must be prepared
for Starbuck to find out, and sooner rather than later."
     Cassiopeia was hunched over an empty Life Support pod checking to
make sure that the thin cushioning inside was in place.  The med-tech
came upright and an expression of concern came over her face, as though
something had just popped into her head to cause her concern.
     "How or when it happens is something I can't predict.  But you might
want to take care of some matters that could at least give you a clear
conscience about things for the time when Starbuck may end up confronting
you over this.  And if your relationship means as much to him as it does
to you, then he'll come away not blaming you.  That's all I can say to
you.  Just be prepared to weather what could be a very difficult time for
the both of you.  Because if you can do that, then you'll have proved to
yourself how meaningful the relationship really is."
     The med-tech's concerned look faded just a bit, and she seemed to be
pondering something deep as she glanced over at the telecom unit on the
compartment wall.
     "Goodbye Cassiopeia.  My hopes and prayers for you both."
     For a centon after the unseen presence was no longer in the Life
Station, Cassiopeia was still standing in contemplation in front of the
empty support chamber.  Finally, with some trepidation, she went over to
the telecom unit and picked it up.
     "The Senior Ship please." she spoke professionally, but her
nervousness was evident in the way she twirled the cord with her thumb.
     Ten microns later, a male voice was on the line.  "Operations. 
Chief Townsend."
     "Yes, this is Cassiopeia, senior med-tech aboard the Galactica.  I
need the extension for one of the residents.  Chameleon.  He shares
accomodations with Siress Blassie."
     "Hang on a centon." she could hear a shuffling noise and then,
"Okay, I have the Siress' extension.  You sure this Chameleon lives
there?"
     "He does, he does," Cassiopeia said impatiently, not wanting to
explain any further.
     "Okay, transferring."
     She heard the beeping noise three times before the click of it being
answered.  To her relief, Chameleon answered it himself.
     "Hello?"
     "Chameleon, it's Cassiopeia."
     "Cassie!  Good to hear your voice again.  It's been too long now."
     "You're right Chameleon," the med-tech kept her voice at a formal
level.  "It has been too long, and that's why I need to talk to you as
soon as possible."
     "Well I know I'd look forward to that.  I've been watching poor
Starbuck make a fool of himself all night on the broadcast.  He probably
could use some cheering up.  Say how come I never heard back on my
invitation that we all get together?"
     "Chameleon, this isn't easy to explain," Cassiopeia pressed on. 
"You and I need to talk alone.  About......an unspoken matter between
us."
     There was an awkward silence on the other end.  When Chameleon
finally spoke, his voice was considerably less friendly.
     "Cassiopeia, why are you bringing this up?"
     "I don't know, but.....I just have a feeling we've reached a point
where things are getting out of hand.  You wanted to become Starbuck's
friend before you'd ever consider telling him the truth, but I have to
tell you right now Chameleon, that that's not going to happen anytime
soon.  He.....likes you, but he doesn't feel an obligation to stay in
touch.  That's just the way he always treats people he shares an
experience with on a mission or something, and he's come to think of you
as no different than them.  If you want to change that, and still have
some kind of close relationship with him, then you have to drop the
charade and tell him the truth!"
     Another awkward silence hung over the line for what seemed an
eternity to Cassiopeia.
     "You sure don't waste time getting to the point," his voice was now
cool and neutral.  "You leave me no choice but to come to the point as
well and tell you that I can't do what you're asking.  Not anytime soon."
     "And why not?" she shot back.
     "You wouldn't understand that, Cassiopeia."
     "If it's about the reasons you told me before, those don't apply
anymore," the med-tech held her ground.  "Starbuck isn't going to give up
the Service or me or his friends anytime soon if he were to find out. 
And if he considered that, then he'd only demonstrate that he's not as
good a friend as the rest of us thought he was."
     "You're probably right, Cassiopeia.  But....I have other reasons for
why I feel this way, and if this is the only thing you want to talk
about, then there's no point in our continuing this conversation.  If you
want to make plans for a normal gathering where this....subject does not
come up, I'm still open to that any time."
     "There won't be any more gatherings like that, Chameleon.  That's
what you're going to have to learn to accept.  If you want to change
that, then you have to make a decision.  And let me tell you this," she
added pointedly, "If Starbuck were to someday find out the truth by
accident or by any means other than you or I telling him, I plan on
repeating every detail of this conversation and letting him know that it
was you who forced me to stay silent.  I'm not going to let him take his
anger out on me if I can help it."
     "That's your perogative," he was clearly displeased.  "But if you
plan on violating a confidence, Cassiopeia, that would disappoint me
greatly."
     "Oh don't worry about that, Chameleon," she injected a note of
sarcasm, "But ask yourself what would be less honorable.  My breaking
that confidence, or your refusal to tell Starbuck the truth for what I'm
beginning to suspect are more and more selfish reasons on your part?"
     The silence this time was no longer awkward.  Cassiopeia could
easily picture the anger on Chameleon's face at that instant.
     "We have nothing more to discuss," he said coldly, "I hope this
won't be the last time we talk to each other, Cassiopeia, but.....if
circumstances lead to that, so be it.  Whatever the case, take care of
yourself."
     The click indicated that he'd terminated the connection.  Cassiopeia
held the telecom unit in her hand for several microns before she finally
placed it back on the wall.
     However much she had hoped for something more positive to come out
of the conversation, she at least felt some satisfaction over having
taken some initiative herself.  If Starbuck's discovery of the truth some
day ever led to an unpleasant scene, she at least could see to it that
all his anger was sent in one direction only.
     Feeling more satisfied and at peace with herself, Cassiopeia went
back into Salik's office and decided to watch the rest of the triad game.


     In another part of the battlestar, the triad game was also the
object of attention to three viper pilots in the Womens Barracks who were
off-duty and lounging in either their bunks or relaxing in some of the
chairs provided.  All of them had their eye on the vid-com screen and
were either laughing or shaking their heads in disbelief at what they
heard.
     "......I mean when there are obstacles on the court like Castor to
get around, it's ah....well like ah....the kind of feeling you get when a
squadron of Cylons drops around you and ah.....well."
     "Yes, Lieutenant, very perceptive of you," the disdainful tone in
Zed's voice hadn't abated since the broadcast's beginning.  "And now a
quick recap of the score and two changes of possession that took place as
the lieutenant explained that strategy in his very unique and distinctive
style."
     "Oh Starbuck, you've got no future in broadcasting, that's for
sure!" Dietra hooted as she shook her head at the screen.
     "Can you just picture the poor people trying to follow this on an
audio only link?" Sergeant Mackin giggled as she did some aerobic
stretching that was part of her usual evening ritual.  "They've only
missed about half the action up to now because Starbuck can't get one
coherent point out in under three centons!"
     "Was he that incoherent the one time you went out with him?" Brie,
who was sitting on the edge of her bunk, teased.
     "That was four yahrens ago when I was but a new recruit," Mackin
said as she paused in mid-stretch, "And the reason I never went out with
him again was because I thought he was too coherent.  About himself that
is."
     "About himself?" Dietra looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
     "Sure," Mackin grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat off the back of
her neck.  "He knew how to talk himself up.  'You're in for the most
wonderful time of your life with the greatest hotshot pilot who ever flew
the stars.  Why there's nothing from this edge of the Colonies to the end
of the Alpha Quadrant that ever scared me.  Just try to find another
warrior who's seen and done the things I've done.'"
     Dietra and Brie laughed at her perfect mimicry of Starbuck's vocal
inflections.
     "Oh, that's priceless," Dietra wiped her eyes, "Too bad having to
broadcast a triad match wasn't among those grandiose experiences he
boasted about."
     "And did you see that hair on him?" Brie shook her head, "I know he
had some kind of infiltration mission to do, but you'd think he'd make
himself look presentable for sagan's sake!"
     "Maybe he should have kept the whole disguise he had!" Mackin
chuckled as she sat down.  "That would have been an improvement."
     As the three pilots continued to laugh and banter among themselves,
they had little inkling of being watched by an unseen presence standing
right between them.  Smiling brightly at what she saw.
     "This reminds me of that time in the Officers Club after we got back
from the mission to destroy the Cylon outpost, so the med shuttle could
find a cure for the disease," she said above the bantering that went on
with no awareness of her presence or her words.  "We all came back so
happy that our first mission as viper pilots was a success.  It....seemed
to take a burden off our shoulders and made us all aware that we could
handle the pressure, even under the dire circumstances that made us
become viper pilots on such short notice."
     She looked around at each of their faces.  First Dietra, then Mackin
and finally Brie and shook her head with sadness.
     "This is the kind of camaraderie amongst warriors I was looking
forward to the most," she said.  "The ability to be open and frank, while
sharing our insights on what we'd gone through together.  Oh sure, as a
married pilot, that would have created a little bit of a different
dynamic over time with me, but......all I do is think back to that time
in the Club after the first mission, and I can see how wonderful it would
have been.  But.....it wasn't to be for me.
     "But it really doesn't matter, though," she kept looking back at
each of their faces, "What's important is how you three and all the
others who graduated from that crash program broke the barriers that
existed for too long aboard this ship when it came to what women pilots
could do.  How many women pilots flew vipers before we were needed?  The
Galactica was behind the times compared to some of the other battlestars
in that regard, though that wasn't really Adama's fault.  But we opened
up a lot of eyes and have paved the way for new generations of women to
follow us in these difficult tasks of protecting the Fleet.  And that's
the reason why I'm most proud to have been part of this group with
warriors like you."
     She realized there was no need to approach any of them individually. 
None of them had matters in their personal lives that needed addressing,
and she hadn't known them well enough to feel comfortable taking that
kind of role anyway.  But as fellow warriors, and trailblazers for the
future, her admiration would always know no limits.
     "Goodbye my friends."
     And then, she was gone from the room.  Prepared to move on to the
next place in the battlestar she needed to visit.

                         Chapter Four

     "Commander, with all due respect, I believe the matter has been
delayed long enough."
     Adama looked over his desk at the imposing figure of Sire Solon
standing before him.  The Chief Opposer of the Fleet showed clear signs
of impatience that had been building up for some time now.
     "I understand your frustration, Sire Solon," the Galactica commander
said gently, "But there are ramifications that go beyond the case
itself."
     "I am aware of that, Commander," Solon said, "But the fact that
Samuels and Wilmer are eligible for the death penalty is of no
consequence to me as Chief Opposer.  That is solely in the hands of the
Overseers who must hear their case."
     "Perhaps, but it is also incumbent upon you to request the nature of
the punishment, and I have seen little indication or desire on your part
to formally state whether you think the death penalty should be sought."
     Solon sighed, "That....is a matter I would prefer to leave to the
Overseers.  For a matter as grave as that, with the first potential death
penalty punishment in more than a hundred yahrens, I think responsibility
for deciding that should rest solely with those in the highest levels of
authority."
     "I understand your desire to avoid dealing with that, Sire Solon,
but if you wish some momentum on the other matters, you can not escape
it.  I at least need your recommendation as Chief Opposer as to what
punishment would fit the crime, and in the event of conviction it will be
up to us to accept or reject that judgment."
     "I appreciate that, Commander, but I had hoped to be spared the need
of taking a position on the death penalty," Solon said.
     "Fate has dictated otherwise," Adama did not show any sympathy, "If
you want me to set a date for Tribunal, then I want your recommendation
tomorrow.  You have no other choice in the matter."
     "I suppose not," the Chief Opposer said with resignation as he rose
from his chair, "Very well, Commander.  You will have my recommendation
tomorrow.  Good evening."
     "Good evening," Adama was polite but curt as Solon departed.  As
soon as the sire was gone, the door stayed open to allow Adama's next
guest to enter.  He had been instructed to wait outside until the
Commander was through with the Chief Opposer.
     "Ah, Professor Pliny," Adama said pleasantly and extended his hand
as a small, middle-aged man with wisps of brown hair on the sides of his
otherwise bald head entered.  "Thank you for coming."
     "It's an honor to meet you personally, Commander," Pliny said.  He
had once been chairman of the linguistics division in Sagitara's most
prestigious university.  Of all the people in the Fleet, no one had more
impeccable credentials in ancient languages, and that was why Adama had
asked for him personally to handle the matter of the Protean journal.  "I
only wish it could have been to bring you a more hopeful report."
     "I.....somewhat expected that," Adama tried not to let any
disappointment show.  "But is there even one tiny thing you found out?"
     "Oh yes," the balding professor nodded, "At some point the numbering
system developed by the Gemonese to replace Kobollian numbering crept up
into this person's civilization because I can recognize some of those
symbols grouped together like here." he handed Adama a clipboard with
some notations on them.  "On several occasions the symbol 'XIX' and 'XX'
which in early Gemonese was for '19' and '20' and in some other rare
instances I see a similar grouping of these symbols that probably refer
to numeric designations as well.  But these instances are so rare that
they suggest that this numbering system was arcane and used only for
formal designations of some kind."
     "And that's all you've figured out."
     "So far," he admitted, "And there's no way of placing those numeric
symbols in any kind of meaningful context since they don't lend any clues
to deciphering the written language itself.  At least not right now."
     Adama shook his head, "It's so hard to ponder what could have gone
through the mind of a man like that.  If he was from Earth, then where he
ended up on Proteus must have been like being trapped in another
dimension."
     "With no means of communicating," Pliny agreed, "I have to admit,
spending all this time with this journal and thinking about his plight
has given me one bad dream already about what it would be like to be in a
similar situation."
     The commander set the clipboard aside on his desk, "I don't wish to
let this task take you away from all of your regular duties aboard the
University ship, Professor, so if there are others you could recruit to
assist you, that might help accelerate matters."
     "I don't say this to be egotistical Commander, but the only people
who could assist me on this would be student assistants.  Until they
receive full training, that makes me the last expert linguist in Colonial
society."
     "Then perhaps this project can be the thing that makes them true
heirs to your fine tradition, Professor," Adama hoped that the tiny edge
of sarcasm he felt wouldn't be noticed, "I will expect reports from you
and your assistants every sectan on the state of your progress.  Absent
any new developments, this journal is the only thing we have that could
offer further clues as to how far away Earth really is."
     "You'll get them Commander, but I have to ask that you not expect
miracles.  Unless there's a passage in this journal that shows a direct
Kobollian translation of the text, the most you can ever hope for
realistically is perhaps one or two words out of a hundred.  The only
reason why the Kobollian language never became lost to us is because we
had texts with side-by-side translations to use as a reference point."
     "Noted," Adama said, "Good evening, Professor."
     Once Pliny was gone, the commander let out a sigh and turned his
attention to the paperwork that was next on his evening agenda.  A review
of Boomer and Athena's probationary assignment, and whether it was time
for them to be returned to regular duty aboard the Galactica.
     As he studied the papers, he was oblivious to the presence that had
been standing next to him for some time now.
     "Oh Adama," she shook her head with regret, "How I wish I could tell
you what I know about what that journal really says.  Even now, I could
recite every word of it to you.  But....I can't.  We gave you the most we
could when the general coordinates were planted in the minds of Apollo,
Starbuck and Sheba after that encounter with Iblis.  Until we are given
permission by the Authority above us, we can do no more than give general
advice from now on."
     Her tone now shifted to one of admiration, "But what makes you such
a remarkable and special man, Adama, is how your faith was so strong on
the most difficult night in human history.  For you to walk out of the
ruins of your house, confronting the loss of your wife and son, and to
find the strength just centons later to think not of yourself, but to
provide reassurance to a group of survivors that there was still hope for
the human race.  To answer the call from the Almighty to lead the
survivors to a place that you had no inkling of where it might be, but
which you knew existed solely because of the strength of your faith.  How
rare it is to see that strength of faith in anyone.  Had it been someone
without your faith taking on the task to lead the survivors, that person
might have chosen the dangerously simple solution of staying in the
Colonies and fighting some kind of guerilla war against the occupation. 
A choice that could have left the human race in this part of the galaxy
extinct as a species.
     "But like all people, you have had your inner struggles as well. 
Momentary crises of faith, just like all people go through.  Still, you
persevere because you recognize what so many people fail to realize.  A
true religion is one that is revealed in history, not through so-called
'mythology.'     And you have seen in the history of human civilization,
on both Kobol and in the Colonies how the basis of faith must be rooted
in the belief that it all happened exactly as the Holy Book described it,
and is not simply some allegorical parable used to make a philosophical
point.
     "And that, Adama, is why your leadership is needed to insure that
the destiny meant for these survivors of the Holocaust is fulfilled.  And
why in the future, you can not allow yourself to be worn down by those
who might seek to usurp power.  Remember that those you must consider
your political enemies are those who lack the faith you have.  And should
there be leaders who lack faith, and the ability to shape a vision for
the future rooted in faith, then the future of your people can only be
doomed.  Remember that well."
     She drew closer to him and then smiled.
     "That takes care of the advising.  Now it's time for me as an
individual to tell you how much you meant to me.  I'd admired you greatly
since long before the Holocaust, when I interviewed you twice for the
BNC.  That was why the night our group of survivors saw you, and I
realized that you'd survived, I knew that I could instinctively trust
your judgment on whatever it was you planned for us.  And that helped
give me the first glimmer of hope after going through the horror of that
evening.
     "When I started to take an interest in Apollo, I'd......almost
forgotten that he was your son, but as soon as he reminded me of that, I
could see why I'd become attracted to him.  Because I saw how Apollo's
instinctive sense of compassion that he showed for Boxey in the face of
all that tragedy, and when he had so many important duties to attend to,
could only have been inherited from a man as great as you.  That's why
the second greatest feeling I had the night Apollo proposed to me, was
the realization that I would become part of your family, and that Boxey
would be able to receive your kindness and wisdom as well.
     "I think I only had a chance to call you 'Father' a few times,
because even after the sealing ceremony I kept instinctively calling you
'Commander' and 'Adama'.  It was only.....on the way out from the tomb
after you were feeling so disconsolate over the writings being destroyed
before you could read the information, that I finally felt at ease
calling you Father, and I tried to give you some reassurance on how you'd
at least proved beyond any doubt that Earth did exist.  And I was glad to
see then in those few centons before.....the tragedy happened, that you
were taking those words to heart and letting your faith remain strong."
     She knelt beside him and was now talking in his ear.  "The one thing
I want to put your mind at ease about concerns what you didn't get a
chance to read in the tomb.  If you had the few extra microns to read the
inscriptions before the laser blasts destroyed them, you would have seen
only the exact same information that you have now.  The general heading
for Earth on course Epsilon Vector 22, on a circular reckoning course of
000.9.  A star system of nine planets and one sun.  The third planet
being Earth, as confirmed by the Testament of Arkada.
     "You see Adama, that was why we gave that information to Apollo,
Starbuck and Sheba that time.  Because we saw how you'd been denied of
the critical information to truly begin your journey to Earth through a
cruel twist of fate.  And so, we felt we needed to rectify that injustice
by providing you with what was needed from the outset.  Not to exceed our
authority by being too specific about where Earth is, because that
information you must prove yourself worthy of discovering yourself, but
to set things right."
     She rose to a standing position, "I must go now.  Thank you for
being an inspiration to me before and after you became my father.  And
thank you for embracing Boxey as if he were your own flesh and blood
grandson.  Continue to provide that always to the people you love, and to
those you must lead.  And above all, keep faith always."
     She walked away and passed through the closed door.  As soon as her
presence was gone, Adama found himself suddenly frowning and looking up
from the report concerning Boomer and Athena's probationary assignment. 
His eyes wandering across the desk to the clipboard Professor Pliny had
left with him, with the random notations from the mysterious 'Silent
One's' journal.
     Adama picked it up and looked at the numeric designations for a half
centon, not with any of the frustration he might have felt earlier in the
evening, but with a more philosophical air.
     "The answers will be known some day," he said aloud, "And we shall
find Earth."
     Feeling much better inside, he set the clipboard down and went back
to work.


     She had planned on making her visits in an orderly manner from ship
to ship.  But as her presence lingered outside the door that led to the
place that had once been her quarters, and where she knew her son was on
the other side, she found herself hesitating.
     "Not yet," she finally shook her head, "Not yet."
     And then, her presence was gone completely from the battlestar.


     Elsewhere in the Fleet, nightshift duty was in full swing aboard the
Livestock Ship, which housed more than 40 different species of animals,
most of which were strictly raised for food consumption.  The only
exceptions were several species of equines, which were raised for their
potential value on wherever the survivors of humanity ultimately settled. 
All other live animal species in the Fleet were housed aboard a
Zoological Ship for scientific research purposes.
     It was often said that the only duty worse than a sanitation ship in
the Fleet, was working the nightshift aboard the Livestock Ship.  That
was when after a day of feeding and harvesting the animals, the night
crew would have to clean up after the day crew's work.  Including one
maintenance crewman in his late 20s, but whose thinning hair and
oversized stomach made him look a decade older.  He had reported for duty
a centar ago and was now using his cleaning implements to wash down a
corridor where livestock always passed through en route from their
holding areas to the slaughtering and processing facility.  It was the
kind of job one step above having to clean the slaughterhouse itself, and
seldom attracted willing volunteers.  In his case, the kind of duty that
would enable him to work alone suited him just fine.
     He applied a generous amount of cleaning solution to the floor and
walls, as he had done every night for the past yahren.  Like every one of
those nights that he had worked aboard this ship, things were dreary and
uneventful, but he always came away with the satisfaction of feeling 
safely anonymous.  With no one to give him any reminders of a past life
that had as a result of his own choices, been one of almost total misery.
     A skeptic by instict, he would never have thought any forces beyond
this dimension were watching him at that instant in knowing detail of
everything about his past.  But that was exactly the case on this night.
     When she emerged, she found herself purposefully keeping her
distance from him.  Unlike her previous visits throughout the ships of
the Fleet, there was no feeling of warmth inside her.  The only thing she
could summon was total neutrality.
     "So there you are, after all these yahrens," she said, "You've
changed a great deal.  No longer the dashing young man with the striking
features, and the athletic build.  I suppose if anyone else knew, they
would say it's appropriate that you've lost your looks and that this is
the kind of work you have to do now.
     "I shouldn't have been surprised that you were one of the survivors. 
Doing what you can to escape what you'd regard as a terrible fate is the
kind of thing that comes natural to you.  I found that out," she had to
lower her head to avoid letting unnatural feelings of bitterness enter
her, "I certainly found that out eight and a half yahrens ago one night,
not too long after a Natal Day celebration with you."
     As he finished applying the solution and began to use a sonic
scrubbing apparatus along the crevices of the floor, she forced herself
to look at him again.  "You just couldn't face your parents, back then. 
You knew your father would shame you for the rest of your life because of
the scandal and stigma of getting a girlfriend pregnant.  He'd cut off
your family allowance and probably force you into some menial labors to
teach you a lesson.  So that's why you demanded I commit the most heinous
sin imaginable just to protect your reputation."
     She lowered her head again, and this time her mind was recalling the
conversation just two days before the one she'd had with Heller at the
BNC.....


     "You can't be serious," there was a stunned look on his face as he
sat across from Serina in a Caprica City restaurant booth.
     "Why would I joke about this?" she retorted, "We've both learned the
hard way what getting drunk and doing something we shouldn't have done
can lead to.  And now we have to deal with it."
     "You're darned right we've got to deal with it," an edge of panic
entered his voice, "You've got to get down to the first practitioner you
can find and arrange for a termination."
     The look on Serina's face was one of stunned horror bordering on
shock.
     "I can pay for the whole procedure," he went on, "I'll just tell my
parents I had a bad night of gambling in the Red Light District.  That
won't make them happy, but if they ever found out about this-----,"
     "What did you say?" she coldly interrupted him, her face still of
one in shock.
     "I said I'd pay for it, don't worry!  I-----,"
     "No," Serina shook her head, "Your first reaction to finding out
that I'm pregnant is to tell me that I have to get a termination.  How
can you *possibly* ask me to do such a thing?"
     He looked at her as if she were crazy, "Come off it, Serina, there's
no other way."
     "There most certainly is," she snapped, "We take responsibility for
this child and deal with it."
     "What are you talking about?" his voice rose, "If my parents find
out that I did this, they'd......good Lords of Kobol, they'd explode! 
They'd force us to drop out and probably....."
     "And get sealed," she finished, "Is that so horrible a prospect? 
Maybe it's not what either of us wanted in life, but we made the decision
to fool around, so maybe we need to make the decision to try and make
something work, at least for the sake of our child."
     "You're crazy," he started to back away from her, "If you think I'm
going to suddenly become responsible for a----,"
     "You're already responsible!" Serina hissed, "So take your lumps
like a man, and deal with it!"
     "How can you be so selfish and stubborn?  Asking me to give up my
life, and throwing away your chance at a decent living just to----,"
     "To what?" she cut him off, oblivious to the fact that some of the
nearby restaurant patrons were starting to stare at them, "To show some
love for an innocent child who had no say in how it was born?  This child
isn't to blame for anything, and I am not going to submit myself to
something evil as a termination and see its life snuffed out.  You're a
monster to even suggest that!"
     "It isn't a child!  At this point, it shouldn't even be developed
into something that could feel pain."
     "And don't give me that felgercarb.  I happen to believe what the
Book of the Word says about when life begins."
     A desperate look started to come over his face.  "Serina, how can
you do this to me?  Do you have any idea how prominent my father is in
Caprican society?  How much he cares about his reputation and the good
name of his family?"
     Serina shook her head in disgust, "If you have a shred of decency in
you, you'll take a centon to calm down and realize that what your father
thinks, and what that might do to the nice cushy life of pampered
privilege you saw for yourself as his heir is meaningless right now.  You
have to show some regard for your own child and do what's best for it. 
And only a madman would think first of wanting to snuff out its life.  If
it makes you feel better, I won't ask that we become sealed, but at the
very least, I am going to insist on you taking responsibility for your
own child."
     "You're blackmailing me, Serina," the veins were throbbing in both
his forehead and neck.  "I will not let you do this to me."
     "Making you take responsibility for your own actions, isn't
blackmail," she refused to be intimidated, "But what you're trying to do
is bribe me into commiting murder just to save your own astrum from a
good kick by your father, which is probably what you could use."
     He rose from the booth and slapped a ten cubit note on the table,
"We don't have anything more to discuss.  You're going to get a
termination tomorrow."
     "Make me," she wished she could spit at him.
     He stood next to her, trembling visibly, and it seemed to Serina
that it was more from fear than anger.  Clearly, what was on his mind
most at that instant was the wrath of his wealthy parents, who
undoubtedly would force him into doing something he had no desire or
intention of ever doing.
     No wonder I was drunk when I decided to accept his offer to go to
bed, she thought.  If I'd stayed sober, I would have seen what a piece of
bilge scum he is and slapped him in the face when he made his
proposition.
     Finally, without saying another word he stormed out of the
restaurant.
     Serina had no way of knowing that it would be the last time in her
life that she ever saw the father of her child.


     "The next day, when I didn't hear from you, I telecommed your
parents to tell them, and that's when I found out you'd vanished off the
face of Caprica with your trust fund account of ninety thousand cubits
emptied out."  she was still keeping her distance from him and her voice
neutral, "And since you hadn't even bothered to leave them a farewell
note, and because I was the first person they were hearing from about
what had happened, they were quick to blame me entirely.  And now I know
you did that on purpose, because the last thing you wanted was to see
your parents form any positive impression of me.  In your warped, selfish
mind, you accurately reasoned that your parents would ignore me and leave
me to fend for myself, and that your father, to avoid bad publicity,
would not make a major effort to look for you.  And that's just what you
got.
     "Well, now I know everything you did after that day when you made
your escape from the world of responsibility and decency.  And....all I
can say is, I'm not surprised to know what you ultimately became.  In
fact, I sort of half expected you'd get caught up in something like that
after the money you stole from your trust account was gone."
     Finally, she forced herself to draw closer to him, where he was now
applying a new amount of cleaning solution to the next section of
corridor that needed attending.
     "I'm not going to give you any advice on how you can handle a
certain......problem that's going to be revisiting you soon.  The only
thing I am empowered to do is to say that I forgive you.  I say that not
with any feeling, but because it is an action I must be willing to do,
and that all people must be willing to do to those who have wronged them,
no matter how horrible the injustice.  And it means that I must hope, in
the name of decency, that you can one day come to terms with the
magnitude of hurt and pain you caused not only me and the son you never
met or knew, but so many others.  Because when you do, and genuinely ask
for forgiveness yourself, then you'll know that it's been given to you,
and that it's still possible for your soul to be saved in the life
beyond."
     Now, she was alongside him.  Determined to let his subconscious know
everything she was about to say.
     "Understand this," her voice was firm, "If you ever find out that
you are the biological father of Commander Adama's legal grandson, you
are never, and I emphasize the word *never* to use that to your advantage
in any way.  Because as far as I'm concerned, you forfeited any ties to
him the instant you demanded I terminate his life before it began.  And
because you did that, that's why I never told him your name.  And I never
told another living soul the name of Boxey's father either because I
didn't think your name was worth remembering, and because I never wanted
him to act on any curious impulse to find out who his biological father
was, if he had a name to go on.  There is nothing in you or your family
that I ever want to think of as being part of him.  Boxey has only one
father, and his name is Apollo, and that's how it's to be unto eternity. 
The only way you can ever tell him about who you are, is to get down on
your knees and ask his forgiveness with total sincerity for what you did
to me and to him.  But if you have no intention of doing that, then you
stay away.  Let the guilt of what you did keep you from ever thinking
that your connection with Boxey can be used to your advantage in any
way."
     She could see his head slouch slightly as he turned off the cleaning
solution dispenser.  As if he was suddenly feeling uncomfortable and
couldn't fathom the reason why.
     "Now I've said my piece," she backed away from him, "I feel no
bitterness or hatred for you, and I do forgive you.  What I have said is
simply meant to be advice for you to consider if you wish to redeem
yourself.  And always remember that redemption and forgiveness is
possible for all people."
     And with that, her presence faded from the room, leaving the man
alone with a puzzled look on his face.  He pulled up the collar of his
tunic, as if he could sense some kind of sudden draft or chill in the
air.
     Suddenly, he heard the gears of the compartment door at the end of
the corridor opening.  He looked up and his mouth fell open in stunned
surprise when he saw who was standing there.
     "Well, well, Anglin, you haven't changed a bit in five yahrens."
     The maintenance worker named Anglin stared at the tall, thin man
before him.  His red hair and thick moustache seemed unnaturally bright,
as if it had come from a cheap dye.  But even with them, there was no
mistaking the twitching movements of the hands, and the slightly nervous
pitched voice.
     "Dravius?" he finally spoke.
     "Of course," the wanted fugitive stepped toward him, "So nice to see
one of my fellow compatriots in the Musuem theft again.  You have no idea
how much trouble I went to to finally track you down."
     Dravius came up to him and smiled smugly, "It's time for you to take
a thirty centon break from your work, so we can talk about a matter of
mutual interest to us."
     Anglin turned off the dispenser and placed it back in its mounting.
     "All right," he tried not to let any of the nervousness he felt
inside over seeing an old face from his past again show.  "We'll talk. 
But I'm not going to make any promises to help you.  You're the one who's
wanted for theft and now murder, if I'm not mistaken."
     "And I have the power to see to it that you go to the Prison Barge
for theft as well," the fugitive said coldly, "So remember that, and
perhaps you'll find yourself open to what I have to say."
     Grimly, Anglin nodded as he settled himself back for what he knew
was going to be a more endless night than he could remember.


     Twenty centons had passed with Dravius monopolizing the
conversation, recounting everything he had done in the period since they
had last seen each other which was more than several yahrens ago.
     "At first, I didn't know that every one of us from the theft was
still alive and well in the Fleet," the fugitive was saying, "But Antipas
let that slip out the night I tried to contact him for help."
     "Before you got mixed up in that Association racket aboard the
Rising Star," Anglin noted.
     "Yes.  The snake just laughed and said I had no evidence to
implicate him as the mastermind who hired us all to loot the Museum for
his private collection.  But when he said that all of us were still
alive, that was all I needed to give me some hope for future reference."
     "Future is right," the maintenance worker didn't hide the distaste
in his voice.  "You've already said I'm the first one you've tracked down
from the four of us, and I guess things were so cozy for you in that
Association setup that you figured you could put that off for a long time
to come."
     "Yes, it did have its benefits.  Unfortunately, that blasted Samuels
was too greedy.  That's what led to our downfall.  He should have known
better to lay off for a while."
     "The bottom line is that you've got two murder charges hanging on
you," Anglin said, "And that means you crossed a line that I said I'd
never cross in any job.  I have no compulsion against larceny and theft,
but murder is another thing entirely."
     "Spare me your pretense at moralism," Dravius snapped, "The bottom
line is that now that I found you, it's time for us to work together
again."
     "To do what?"
     "To bring down Antipas.  That snitrod is determined to take over
from Adama at some point and become the leader of this Fleet.  We can
gain the upper hand and force him to give us a comfortable living if he
still wants to harbor those dreams."
     "And just how would we convince him of that?  He laughed you off
when you tried that, and what makes you think he'd do the same if we both
approached him?"
     "Because you're still sitting on the one-fourth of the collection
you were entrusted with, just as I was with mine aboard the Spica," the
fugitive responded.  
     "So what if I am?" he didn't bat an eyelash.
     "You don't understand," a twitch entered Dravius's eye, "Together we
can----."
     "We can what?  Blackmail him?  Sorry Dravius, I'm not getting
involved in your little revenge quest.  Antipas gave me the only thing I
asked for a long time ago, and that was the chance to stay safely
anonymous in the Fleet with no chance of a security check uncovering my
sordid little past, and all I had to do in return was keep safeguarding
one-fourth of the collection so his reputation could stay clean in case
of an unauthorized search in his quarters on the Rising Star.  The same
deal he gave you and Spaulding and Jabez to watch over the other shares."
     "You actually enjoy this?" Dravius motioned about the half-cleaned
companionway.  "Working on this livestock ship in all its squalid filth? 
This is the only place that would make the Spica seem like the Rising
Star by comparison."
     "It's a living.  And frankly, I've been through enough to just
finally appreciate the joy of just being alive for a change."
     "And for someone who says he has no quarrel about stealing, it
doesn't freeze your pogees any that you can't use any of that treasure to
do a little better in life?"
     "Who said I'm not?" Anglin suddenly smirked at him, "From time to
time, one of the ancient Libran monarchs' treasures meets a sad fate in
the maintenance shop where a turbine-smash can rather effectively remove
all that ornamental felgercarb and just leave me with the base metal,
which is all I need to get some occasional luxuries."
     He stared at him in almost disbelief, "You mean you've actually
destroyed some of them?"
     "A few.  It's not as if I have to worry about Antipas coming by to
make a surprise inventory of all items," he then noticed the look on the
fugitive's face, "I'm beginning to get the idea that never occurred to
you.  If that's so, you're even dumber than I remember, Dravius."
     The fire was gone from Dravius, and replaced only by the incessant
twitching.  He stared awkwardly down at the floor.
     "I don't plan on helping you, Dravius.  Maybe if you come back with
Jabez and Spaulding in tow, I might have reason to change my tune, but I
don't know where they are, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you.  Just
as I'm not going to tell you where my share of the treasure is hidden on
this ship, which is what you really need to have any chance of making
your scheme work."
     "You gallmonging........" he muttered, feeling too shaken up to even
finish the insult.
     "Get out of here, Dravius," Anglin said, "Leave me to my occasional
petty larcenies in what is otherwise a stable life.  You've got bigger
problems than I do with the death penalty now back in effect for capital
crimes.  Frankly, if I were you I'd be trying to find a way off this
joyride through the stars for the first habitable planet to settle on."
     The veins were throbbing in the fugitive's neck and he uneasily
glanced at his wrist chronometer.
     "Okay, I'm going," he said, "But this won't be our last
conversation, Anglin.  You'd better hope that I can stay one step ahead
of Colonial Security because if I am caught, I'll name every one of you
and at the very least you'll have to answer questions and run the risk of
your quarters being searched."
     Dravius turned and then exited through the compartment door, leaving
the maintenance worker alone.  It was a long time before a subdued and
troubled Anglin finally found the strength to reach for his cleaning
implements and get back to work.

                         Chapter Five

     The night cycle had now reached that stage when even the Rising Star
began to show signs of becoming quiet in all sections.  The Marketplace,
with its merchants feeling relief that the menace of the 'Association'
was gone forever, had their kiosks closed and locked.  The Empyreal
Lounge, usually a quiet place to begin with for guests who despised loud
music and entertainment, had shut its doors for the night.  The Triad
Court, now empty and silent after a fairly sluggish game that had seen
Castor and Greenbean win a narrow victory over Barton and Cree.  And in
places that were still open for business, there were few people left. 
The Chancery had only several customers, all of whom  had bad luck all
evening, still trying to find one last chance at recovering some losses
in one lucky game of Pyramid.  
     The Astral Lounge was also still open, but the live entertainment
was done for the night and any guest entering would find only an
uncharacteristically quiet place with the floor strewn with litter that
needed to be cleaned up before morning.  At this point, there were barely
a handful of people left, all of them wrapped up in some conversation
over another round of drinks.
     Chief Steward Zeibert, who directly supervised all matters in the
Astral Lounge and the adjacent Main Dining Hall, was at his station going
over the evening's receipts.  He had not anticipated strong business in
light of the weakened competition for tonight's triad match, but the
turnout of people to watch the proceedings on the Lounge's giant video
screen had exceeded his expectations. 
     It's more than back to normal, now that that Association menace is
gone, he thought.  It's even better than normal.  The only sour note that
had come out of the proceedings from Zeibert's standpoint was to see an
employee he'd considered efficient and loyal for a number of yahrens like
Samuels, exposed as the murderous mastermind of the crime ring.
     As he finished counting the receipts, he saw a weary Starbuck enter
the lounge.  The lieutenant's posture was slouched and he seemed to move
slowly.
     "Can I get you something, Lieutenant?"
     Starbuck slowly looked up at him, his expression one of deep
humiliation, "Zeibert, after what I just went through, I think I'm
entitled to another three bottles from that Protean collection. The
infiltration assignment was easier than having to sit next to Zed for
three centars."
     "Ah, yes.  I caught a few centons of the broadcast and you seemed
somewhat.....uncomfortable."
     "Who wouldn't be?" he rolled his eyes and made his way over to a
barstool, sighing in relief as he sat down.  "I'm telling you, that guy
is a menace!  Looking for controversy all the time, baiting me to say
nasty things about every warrior who plays triad.  That guy had me
feeling so on-edge I couldn't get a single coherent bit of analysis out."
     "My sympathies, Lieutenant, but as far as rewarding you goes, the
most I can be generous with is a complimentary glass of Sagitarian
brandy."
     "I'll take it," Starbuck said, "And that's probably going to be just
for starters."
     Zeibert went back behind the bar and took down a bottle from a shelf
so he could fix Starbuck's drink.  "You had no.....company this evening?"
     "Nah," the warrior shook his head and ran his hand through his still
dark hair, and inwardly cursed himself for the millionth time for not
remembering to do something about it before the broadcast.  "All alone
tonight.  That's why I let myself get conned into doing that fracking
broadcast.  Never again!  Even if they offered me a Protean case for
real, I wouldn't go through that felgercarb again.  Not until they get a
new guy to call the broadcasts who just sticks to the fracking game!"
     Zeibert poured the brandy into a chalice and set it in front of the
lieutenant, "It was my understanding that your friends, Captain Apollo
and Lieutenant Sheba were aboard this evening."
     "Not to see the game, Zeibert," Starbuck said as he picked up the
glass and took a deep gulp, "And that's all I'll say about that."
     "Of course, I understand," he nodded.  "I must return to the recipt
inventory, but call me whenever you desire a refill."
     "Sure, Zeibert.  Thanks."  Starbuck decided to just slowly sip the
remaining half of his brandy and then turned away from the bar so he
could look out into the center of the Lounge.  He could see only a
handful of tables occupied.  At one, he recognized some Galactica
crewmen, but since they weren't people he knew well he decided not to go
over. 
     His eyes then focused on a table in the middle of the floor where he
saw a more familiar face.  Chatting with a very beautiful, petite looking
blonde woman in a serving attendant uniform, was a tall angular looking
man that he'd spent more time with not long ago than he'd cared to.
     "Hey, Twilly!" Starbuck called over and waved.
     The couple looked up and immediately, Starbuck saw the Gyro
Specialist's face flush in embarrassment.  He managed to wave back
halfheartedly.
     "Twilly!" the blonde woman said in a slightly high pitched voice,
"You didn't tell me you knew Starbuck!"
     "Ah yeah, well...." 
     Boy, I've got to find out more about this, Starbuck thought as he
made his way over, feeling glad that he'd found something to take his
mind off his own embarrassment and humiliation.
     "Yeah, didn't he tell you?  Twilly and I, we've worked together
before.  As a matter of fact, we were practically inseparable not too
long ago aboard the Agroship, right Twilly?"
     "Fixing a bad gyro," Twilly said hastily, glancing nervously at the
woman and then back at Starbuck.  "Starbuck's a real whiz when it comes
to those things."
     "And so's Twilly," Starbuck said as he sat down in an empty chair at
the table, "In fact, the one thing I've always admired most about Twilly
is his ability to juggle two things at once."
     "Really?" she looked at Twilly, who was slouching lower into his
chair, "If that's the case, Twilly, why is it you never got out here more
often in the last yahren?"
     "Well.....you know how things can get...."
     "A yahren?" Starbuck raised an eyebrow, "You've known him that
long?"
     "Why of course," she frowned at him, "I'm Phaedra.  Twilly's wife. 
He's told you about me, hasn't he?"
     Starbuck's eyes popped in disbelief and he glanced at Twilly, who
was making all kinds of nervous facial tics at him.
     "Oh, yes!  Phaedra, of course!" Starbuck summoned all his acting
skills to the forefront as he smiled brightly, "Boy, it's amazing what a
couple centars sitting next to Zed can do to the brain to make me forget
about you.  Please forgive me."
     "Of course," Phaedra smiled, "It can happen.  In fact, I've often
told Twilly since we got sealed last yahren that sometimes I think he
forgets I'm his wife, too."
     Starbuck felt like his head was spinning at this point.  To discover
that during all that time when Twilly had caused so much trouble because
of the revelation of his two marriages, that he had a third wife all
along, was the last thing he ever would have suspected.
     "Ah, Starbuck," Twilly said nervously as he got to his feet, "I'm
glad you showed up, because I just remembered that I need to talk to you
about a matter that's classified level A.  So ah.....Phaedra, if you'd
excuse us for a couple centons?"
     "Oh, right!  Right!" Starbuck said as he set his chalice down and
rose, "Phaedra is it okay if I borrow your.....husband to take care of
this?"
     "Sure go ahead," Phaedra was still smiling, "He's been spending so
much time with me lately, that I can afford to let him out of my sight
for a bit."
     "That doesn't surprise me," Starbuck couldn't resist saying.  He
glanced back at Twilly, whose face was like one suffering from serious
stomach cramps.  The two of them walked out of the lounge into the outer
corridor.
     "Twilly, did I hear her right?  You've been married to her for more
than a yahren?"
     "Yeah, yeah," he waved his hand, "And Starbuck, for the love of God,
if you ever say a word about....."
     "Oh don't worry, Twilly.  But let's get one thing out of the way. 
Is she the last one left, or do you have a wife in every ship in the
Fleet?"
     "She's it, she's it!" he said hastily, "After....what happened last
sectar, I'm learning to enjoy monogamy."
     "I would hope so!" Starbuck admonished, "Twilly, it's one thing to
juggle a couple relationships, but when you're sealed to three women at
once, that's......" he didn't go any further.
     "Look," Twilly said calmly, "Since the seals to Zeena and Gayla were
dissolved that means there's nothing wrong with my one remaining seal. 
I'm just.....making the most of it now."
     "I'm sure of that Twilly, it's just that my mind is racing back to
all that pathetic felgercarb of yours on the Agroship about how you loved
Gayla and Zeena equally.  You see, it's realizing how insincere all of
that was, even as you got us into one big fracking mess, that's got me
feeling more and more repulsed by the sight of you."
     "Then let's just both agree to steer clear of each other, just like
I've been ordered to with Gayla and Zeena, right?" the engineer clenched
his teeth.  "That way I can get back to my wife without you hovering
nearby."
     "Sure, go ahead.  But Twilly, let me tell you this.  If you aren't
telling the truth this time and I find out she's not the last one,
believe me I won't hesitate to go to the Commander."
     "I'm sure you would," Twilly's voice dripped with sarcasm as he
turned away from him and went back inside the Astral Lounge.
     Starbuck shook his head in disgust and decided not to follow him
back in.  The thought of returning to his bunk aboard the Galactica was
beginning to strike him as the best thing he could do now.  He made his
way down the winding corridor that led to the Docking Lounge area, where
he knew he could catch a shuttle back to the battlestar, even at this
late time of the cycle.
     When he reached the deserted Lounge, he saw by the schedule
chronometer that the passenger shuttle Canaris wouldn't arrive for
another fifteen centons.  He settled down on the plush, cushioned bench
and decided to just relax until it arrived.
     As he leaned his head back against the wall, the presence that had
visited so many others this night, now stood alongside him.
     "Oh Starbuck," she shook her head and smiled, "You've come a long
way in more than a yahren.  There was probably a time in your life once
when the kind of thing Twilly does would have made you feel a little
envious.
     "It's not my place to push you as far as your relationship with
Cassiopeia goes, but.....it would be good if you could remember how much
she loves you, and how much you've seen of her inner character.  That's
something you should keep in mind just in case something......difficult
happens eventually."
     Even though she didn't need to, she sat down next to him on the
bench, where he was looking askanace at the silent vid-com screen and
pulling out a fumarello to light.
     "What I am glad to see is how you've remained the most loyal friend
Apollo's ever known.  Being there for him when he's needed someone to
help him on so many difficult missions.  Willing to trust your life with
him, when he defended you at that murder tribunal.  And more than once,
you've proved your willingness to lay down your life for him if you had
to.  Just like....." she hesitated, "Just like you did when you stole my
viper and went off into the void yourself, and got yourself captured. 
You just couldn't bear the thought of something happening to him or to me
when our sealing date was so close.  I suppose Apollo's told you how
thinking you were gone forever was what made us move up our sealing
ceremony to that night.  Because if we had to have a reminder that life
was so short it could take someone we both loved as a brother like you,
then we wanted to make sure we'd gotten our chance to become sealed.
     "And you know something, Starbuck?  Because of your brief
disappearance, you made it possible for me to die a contented woman.  I
would have felt so.....unfulfilled if I'd died without having become
Apollo's wife in actual fact, even if it was ultimately just for two
cycles.  So looking back, I'm grateful for what you did for us both when
you risked your own life for the both of us."
     Now, she leaned closer and was speaking into his ear, "But your
heart is still troubled inside because of how I died.  Even though Apollo
told you that day to never think those thoughts again, they still trouble
you inside on occasion, just as Boomer was troubled over what he felt was
his responsibility for my death.  In your case, your silent guilt stems
from the fact that you didn't keep track of what happened to the two
centurions who brought you to Kobol from Baltar's baseship and were
waiting for instructions after they set you free.  Because those
centurions were ultimately the ones who shot me.
     "Starbuck, you're not to blame.  I've.....learned now that there was
a reason for why my life had to end when it did.  It's not an easy thing
to grasp because all of us by instinct think it's unjust if we can't live
long full lives, but.....in my case it was not to be.  That's.....had an
impact on the lives of others in ways you've been able to see, and in
ways that remain unseen and unknown.  And for some of them, it's opened
opportunities that otherwise would never have existed.
     "Ultimately, my fate was chosen for me a long time ago.  And....I
wish I could tell you about all the glories that await us in what lies
beyond, because once you experience them you realize that it no longer
matters how long our mortal existence was.  All that matters is that we
felt fulfilled and content with what we'd accomplished in life.  So
Starbuck, please.  Don't ever have an idle thought in your mind again
about what might have been if you'd acted differently on Kobol.  Because
one thing I've learned in this realm beyond is that history does not
disclose its alternatives even to us.  There is no alternate universe
where things turned out differently for you to ponder.  There's only the
universe you're a part of, and that's the only one you should ever be
concerned with."
     She moved back from him, but remained seated next to him.  He was
still leaning his head back against the wall, this time taking a slow
puff on his fumarello.
     "And in the same way, Starbuck, remember that should you ever learn
something else about......Chameleon.  However you might deal with that
situation, never ponder over what you didn't get in life.  Because that's
a fruitless exercise no matter how justified you think it is to ponder
that.  The only thing you can and should ponder is your future.  The
decisions you make of your own free will, will ultimately determine your
ability to stay true to the path intended for you in life.  That path may
not necessarily guarantee you a long life, but if you follow it and keep
faith, it will leave you fulfilled.  And I know that in my case, I
followed the path that was meant for me, and was able to die fulfilled."
     She rose, "Keep being a loyal friend, Starbuck.  The ones who love
you as a brother, like Apollo, or as an uncle, like Boxey, or as a son,
like Adama, know it's never easy for you to be open about your feelings,
but so long as you stay a loyal friend, they'll always know how you feel
about them as they do about you.  And with Cassiopeia, just keep in mind
how different it's been with her than with any other woman you've known. 
That should ultimately count for a lot in case there are.....difficulties
ahead for the both of you.
     "Goodbye, Starbuck.  My love and prayers to you from....one who saw
you as the brother I never had."
     As soon as her presence was gone from the room, Starbuck suddenly
found himself removing the cigar from his mouth and turning to his left,
as if he expected to see something there.
     He shook his head and frowned, wondering why he'd done that when
there was clearly nothing to see.  He stuck the cigar back in and took
another puff, leaning back again in silent contemplation.
     "Shuttle Canaris docking in one centon," a female voice sounded on
the unicom,. "All passengers waiting in the Lounge for boarding should
stand by with ducats ready or with funds for ducat purchase."
     Starbuck rose from the bench and as he stretched himself, he
suddenly realized that the embarrassment and humiliation he'd felt over
the broadcast was now gone completely.  And he couldn't understand why.
     Maybe I can just brush it off like a bad dream, he thought idly as
he stood by the docking ring, waiting to board the shuttle for the trip
home.  And who knows, maybe doing that was for some greater good later
on?
     He stopped and frowned again as he put his fumarello out in a nearby
disposal chamber.  He couldn't recall feeling that philosophical before
at any time in his life.
     Whatever was causing it though, he at least felt grateful for the
fact that he'd get a good night's sleep after all.
     But the first thing I do before bed though, he vowed as the door
that led to the Canaris opened, is to stop waiting for Salik's dye job to
grow out and get my own hair color back *immediately!*

                         Chapter Six

     As the night cycle took hold of the Rising Star and the rest of the
Fleet, two people sharing a private room inside the luxury ship that had
cost more than five hundred cubits for the night, were marveling at the
contrast between the end of the day, and how it had begun for them.
     "Can you believe it?" Apollo said as he glanced at his chronometer. 
"Twenty centars ago, we were still trapped aboard that evil crypt from
Hades, wondering if we'd ever find a way out.  Did we really go through
that?"
     "I keep asking myself the same thing," Sheba said as she sat across
from Apollo on the elegant couch, holding a half-empty glass of ambrosia. 
She was wearing the same golden color, shoulder baring gown she had worn
the first time they had shared a date aboard the Rising Star, in this
very same room.  That date had ended abruptly twice, first when Apollo
had been called away to deal with the matter of Baltar's release from the
Prison Barge, and second when they had both been recalled to deal with
the explosion aboard the Spica.  
     This time though, they had no intention of letting their evening be
interrupted.
     "There was something I did before we came over here, just to be sure
it was for real," Apollo said as he rose from the chair opposite her, "I
looked up the old history file on the Callisto's disappearance, and
checked out the holophotos of the senior crew.  I.....had to see
Delambre's face in that file.  And....there he was."  He shuddered, "And
when I browsed a little further, I swear I actually recognized a couple
crewmen whose faces I know I saw aboard that thing when I took a shot
at.....what they are now."
     Sheba looked down at the floor, as the uneasy memory filled her. 
"Do you plan on telling Adama?"
     "Later," he said, "He has to know off-the-record, because he's the
only one who could understand the true meaning of it all.  But.....I
needed, no *we* needed tonight for ourselves, Sheba."
     "Of course," Sheba smiled at him, "After all, this is the first
night for us as an engaged couple."
     Apollo returned the smile and came over to her, settling himself
next to her on the couch.
     "I just needed to be with you tonight after what we went through,"
he said as he put his arms around her.  "I was so damned scared inside
that place.  Scared for you.  Scared that if it was Iblis behind all
this, he'd........"
     "Apollo," she gently interrupted as she wrapped her arms around him
as well, "Don't ever worry about my soul again.  I'm.....a lot stronger
now than I was then.  And one thing that's made me stronger is knowing
how much we both love each other."
     He said nothing more as he kissed her passionately on the lips. 
Both of them knew that they had no more desire to talk, and only the
desire to do something else.  Apollo's hands moved down her back and
found the fasteners of her gown, and after only the tiniest hestitation
he undid them.  Sheba's only response was a deep sigh of pleasure as her
gown came undone and she felt his hands rubbing her exposed back.


     A half centar later, they lay next to each other in the room's
private bed, feeling blissfully content after indulging their passion for
each other for the first time.  Sheba's head rested on his chest, while
Apollo tenderly stroked her long shoulder-length brown hair.
     "I know this is technically wrong," she whispered, "But I don't
care.  We're going to be sealed anyway, so it shouldn't make a difference
over time."
     "I agree," Apollo said.  "It shouldn't.  Besides......we earned this
night."
     "Yes," Sheba agreed, "We did.  And I'll remember this night always
as the perfect end to what started as a horrible day."
     "I will too," Apollo said, "And.....tomorrow, we let the people we
love most know about our plans.  And.....that means we have that talk
with Boxey we've stalled long enough on."
     "We'll make things work with him," Sheba was sounding confident,
"After staring down the face of pure evil itself, how can we not be
strong in front of him?"
     Apollo didn't answer as he kept stroking her hair.  Her words of
confidance rang true to him, but inside he didn't have the nerve to tell
Sheba that as far as specific words to Boxey were concerned, he remained
as unsure of what to say as he'd felt the day before.
     But he had no intention of revealing that uncertainty to her now. 
Not when he felt so content and happy just to hold her in his arms, and
feel blest that he'd allowed her to come into his life after shutting
himself off for so long after losing Serina.
     "Apollo," a mischievous edge entered Sheba's voice as she rolled
herself on top of him, "I feel.....ready again, if you are."
     He smiled and pulled her tight to him, and they began another
session of lovemaking that lasted another fifteen centons.  Finally,
spent and exhausted, they both drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.
     It was only when they were asleep that the presence finally emerged
in their room.  For a long centon, she found herself unable to express
any thought.  Then, she realized it wasn't because of any forbidden,
negative emotion, but because she was totally unsure which of the two she
needed to approach first.
     Finally, she decided to approach Sheba first, coming up along the
side of the bed where she lay next to Apollo.
     "I don't know if you remember this, but we met once," she finally
spoke,   "Seven yahrens ago, I did a profile of your father for the BNC. 
One of the first major features I did after I became a reporter.  It was
called 'Commander Cain-The Living Legend.'     And I can remember how I
wanted it to be more than just a simple recap of his military career.  I
wanted to learn more about the personal side of him, just to see if it
was really possible for a warrior as renowned as him to have time for
other pleasures of life.  So to do that, I went out to your house to
interview your mother, who was a legend in her own right."
     And once again, she found her mind recalling the details of a past
event with vivid clarity.....


     The house was exactly what Serina had expected.  It sat on an
isolated bluff overlooking the eastern continent's shoreline, as
befitting a legend who couldn't be pictured living in a normal
residential area surrounded by other people.  There was no mistaking its
elegant, lavish style, though Serina had to wonder how much of that came
from Cain's fame, or from the prestige his wife Bethany had earned as
Caprica's greatest stage actress of the last hundred yahrens.  She was
savvy enough to know that successful thespians usually had the
opportunity to earn a lot more money than even the most successful
warriors ever did.
     Now, with a BNC cameraman behind her, she stood at the front door
and rang the bell.  When the door opened, she saw a young girl of
nineteen on the other side, and for an instant, Serina was taken aback. 
Were it not for the girl's obvious youth she would have been convinced
she was staring at Bethany herself.  Serina had seen Bethany perform
on-stage many times, and the girl standing before her in what she knew
was an Academy cadet's uniform, had the exact same face except for brown
eyes instead of blue.
     "Yes?" she asked.
     "I'm from the BNC.  I believe your mother is expecting me?"
     "Oh yes," she turned around and called, "Mother!"
     "I'll be down in a centon!" a distant voice replied.
     "She hasn't been too sure about doing this," she turned back to
Serina, "But....I've seen a few of your broadcasts and......I sort of got
the feeling you'd do a fair job."
     "Thank you," Serina said, "And your name is.....?"
     "Sheba," she extended her hand, "And you can probably guess what I
do."
     "That goes without saying.  What yahren are you in?"
     "Just started my second."
     "So you plan on following your father's footsteps."
     "I sort of felt predestined for it in a way," Sheba smiled warmly.
     "That's interesting," Serina said, "You know I only planned on
interviewing your mother, but......if you wouldn't mind, maybe you'd be
willing to sit down for this too?"
     Sheba shook her head, "I'm afraid I can't.  You see in another
twenty centons, I have to catch a skybus to take me back to the Academy. 
I've only been here on a twelve centar pass because my morning class was
cancelled."
     "Well that's too bad.  We have to have the feature put together for
broadcast by tomorrow, so I guess there's no way of working something
out."
     "It doesn't matter," Sheba shrugged, "My mother's the one who's more
natural in front of a camera, anyway.  And what she has to say about my
father, I know I'll agree with a hundred percent."
     Just then, the unmistakable figure of Bethany came up to the
doorway.  Unlike Sheba, her light brown hair was swept up high, but
alongside her daughter, the resemblance between the two was even more
obvious.
     "Won't you please come in," Caprica's greatest actress said
politely, "You must be Serina.  And I see you've met Sheba."
     "Yes," Serina said as she motioned her cameraman to follow her in,
"And I was just saying that I was sorry she didn't have time to be
interviewed herself."
     "Well, such is the life of a warrior in training," Bethany was
smiling, but already Serina's reportorial instincts could notice an edge
in her voice as if there was something disapproving inside of her
daughter's chosen career.  "Believe me, after being married to Cain all
these yahrens, I'm used to that."
     "I think I'd better head for the depot, Mother," Sheba said as she
stepped outside, "I'll telecom you tonight."
     "Bye!" Bethany waved as her daughter closed the door behind her. 
She then looked back at Serina, and idly fingered her elegant necklace,
"Can I get you anything, or should we get started?"
     "I'm ready," Serina said, "Where should we do this?"
     "I think here in the living room, would be fine.  It's.....where I
like to entertain, which is.....rather often."
     As Serina followed Bethany in, she could hear that edge in the voice
that suggested a woman who was wrestling inside with a matter of concern.
     There is something she's not happy about.
     But once the interview began, and Serina asked her about how she'd
met Cain, and what it had been like to be married to the most famous
warrior in the Colonies, Bethany proved to be remarkably upbeat and
positive.  The answer that seemed to best sum up her feelings came in
response to a question about how difficult it had been to be apart from
her husband for so many yahrens of their marriage.
     "Oh....it's always difficult, because you have to live with the
uncertainty of whether you're going to find some official from District
Headquarters knocking on the door to bring the bad news that no one
married to a warrior wants to hear," Bethany said, "But.....the
separation always resolves itself when he is home.  And whenever I spend
time with my husband, I feel so blessed that it makes me realize that
having him home only two out of every five yahrens is more rewarding than
it would be with anyone else who was home the whole time.  He's the most
gentle, tender, loving man I know, and I admit I'm proud to be the one
person who gets to see that side of him.  Away from home, he has to be
the tough warrior to do his job and be the best at what he does, but when
he's home and with me and Sheba, he's never like that at all.  And that
suits me just fine, because that's the man I fell in love with."
     It was only when Serina decided to return to the matter of Sheba,
that the uneasy edge returned.
     "What about your daughter's decision to join the military?" she
asked, "How does that make you feel?"
     Abruptly, the pleasant expression faded from Bethany's face and she
seemed to fumble for an instant before she finally said, "My daughter is
an intelligent, gifted woman whom I'm very proud of.  I think she can
excel at anything she chooses to do, and if that means following her
father's footsteps, I know she can succeed."
     That had been the only hesitation the great actress had shown
throughout the entire interview.  It had been so much at variance with
the rest of what she projected, that already Serina had decided she
wasn't going to use that segment when it was time to put the whole
feature together.
     For several days afterwards, the enigma of Bethany's reaction would
puzzle her until finally, when it was time for Serina to move on to other
projects, the matter had been completely forgotten by her.


     ".....I finally know what was bothering your mother," she said as
she finished recalling the conversation.  "The only person she ever
confided her feelings to was her best friend, Ila, Apollo's mother.  She
didn't want you to enter the Academy, not because she didn't think you
were capable, but because she knew you'd be as good as your father. 
And....she really resented that inside, because that meant as she grew
older she was going to have to face the prospect of the both of you being
away all the time, and she wasn't sure she could handle that.  Especially
since she was beginning to think her acting career was coming to an end,
and she'd no longer have anything to occupy her time.  Of course, what
she didn't know then, was that the reason she'd been forgetting her lines
and losing the choice parts that had always been hers, was because that
was the first sign of Cusu's Gamma Syndrome which killed her a yahren and
a half after we did that interview.
     "But......I can speak from personal knowledge, that your mother
knows her feelings about that were wrong, and that if she hadn't kept
those feelings bottled up, you would have made her understand completely. 
In fact, I know you're not troubled by what your mother thought of that,
because she's stood beside you before, just as I am now, to reassure you
about that."
     Now, she knew it was time for her to move on to a more important
matter.  For a long time, she had feared the possibility of not handling
this moment of confrontation in a proper fashion befitting her current
state.  But as she stood beside her sleeping form, she found none of
those fears being realized, and she could say what she truly felt.
     "Thank you so much for entering Apollo's life," she said with total
gratitude and sincerity.  "For giving him a chance to love again, and to
realize that shutting himself off wasn't the right way to honor my
memory.  You are like your father in the exact same way that your mother
described him.  As a warrior, you're tough, resourceful and determined to
be the best at what you do.  But away from that work, you know how to
show love, compassion and tenderness in ways that few people are able to
do.  And that's why I know you're capable of not just being Apollo's
wife, but......." she paused for just a brief instant, "But that you're
also capable of giving love to my son, and to be the mother figure in his
life that he needs to have again."
     She knelt beside her, "Above all, never worry about having to
compete with my memory for as long as you live.  I was meant for Apollo
at one phase of his life that is done.  You are the one meant for him in
this new phase of life.  There will never be any regrets over what I
didn't get to experience with him.  Only happiness that there's a new and
wonderful beginning for the two people I love most."
     She rose and now it was time for her to express herself to Apollo. 
She moved around to the other side of the bed, and gathered all of her
inner strength.
     "I always had just one regret when I left you," she said, "There was
one last thing I wanted to say to you before I died, but.....I didn't get
to say it.  It was the very next thing on my lips in fact.  And that was,
that I didn't want you to shut yourself off from the possibilty of
falling in love again.  I wanted to give you my release and my blessing
upon anyone who'd be fortunate to see in you, just what I saw in you when
I realized that I loved you and wanted to be your wife.
     "But....maybe I didn't get the chance to say that, because things
had to happen as they did.  For someone like Sheba to finally make you
realize how much she loved you, by confronting you the way she did in
that Cylon fighter cockpit before the infiltration mission on the
baseship.  And if that's how it had to be, then all I can be is just
grateful that you were led to the woman who's meant for you in this next
part of your life."
     She knelt beside him and looked directly at his sleeping face.  For
the first time all night, she could feel a deep sense of emotion within
her that would have made her cry had she still been a mortal.
     "There was one other thing, I didn't tell you.  Something I didn't
want to say that night because it only would have caused you a great deal
more pain and anguish.  There's only one other person who knows about
this, and that's Salik.  He.....found out when he had to make that
examination to try and save my life after I was brought back to the
Galactica, and I literally swore him to eternal secrecy on this.  And
that included leaving the detail out in the final autopsy report, because
I never wanted you to find this out by checking the computer."
     She gathered all her strength, "I was three sectans pregnant the
night I died.  The result of the last time we were......intimate before
we got sealed.  It was so early in the process that under normal
circumstances, I wouldn't have realized it for another few sectans.  And
when I found out lying on my deathbed in the Life Station, I was so
afraid of what might happen to you if you realized that you'd lost both a
child and your wife, that I pleaded with Salik to never tell.  And
because of the way you....isolated yourself after my death, I know it was
the right decision.
     "But even though there is probably no likelihood of you ever finding
out about this, I need to prepare you emotionally in case it does happen
someday.  And if it does, Apollo, please do not be upset by it. 
Understand why I was trying to spare your feelings, just as I wanted to
tell you that it was okay for you to find someone else someday.  And
understand also that the soul of that unborn child that never got to
enjoy life knows the same eternal peace that I have now."
     She got to her feet again, and felt more at peace now that she'd
accomplished that difficult task.
     "And now, I must go," she said quietly, "We'll see each other again,
someday, Apollo.  Just as you'll see your mother, and your brother as
well.  But it will be in the changed relationship that transcends old
ties of family and marriage that we enjoy in the mortal state.  Always
remember that as well.
     "Thank you for giving me the greatest joy and fulfillment I ever
experienced in my life.  And thank you for giving my boy something he'd
never had before in the love of a real father.  You're such a special
person, Apollo, and you owe Sheba nothing less than the same devotion and
love you vowed to give me.  Cherish my memory, but only as part of a
finished stage in a life that still has so much in store for you."
     She moved back toward the door and then looked back at them one last
time.  And she decided she could safely use an old term of endearment in
farewell.
     "Goodbye, my captain," she whispered.
     And then, she was gone from the room.


     Detached from the bonds of mortal life, it was possible for her to
roam the stars freely without any of the obstructions that kept man from
seeing the beauty of the universe in all its splendor.  Now, she could
see all around her every ship in the Fleet, and she could easily envision
all of the activity that went on even with so many now at rest.
     She had fulfilled all of her tasks except one.  The one she knew she
had to save for last.  It was also the one where she had pleaded for an
exception to be made to the usual rule, because she knew that there was
no other person more entitled to receive the benefit of an exception than
her son.
     Now, as the Galactica loomed before her, she found herself pleading
again.
     "There is no other time from now unto eternity that could ever make
me ask for this," she said, "It needs to be done this way.  Surely that
can be understood."
     She could hear a response being made to her.  A response that lasted
for more than several centons, filled with gentle admonishment and
reminders.  But then, suddenly to her surprise had an ending that
exceeded all expectations.
     "Thank you," she whispered with joy, "Thank you.  I shall not abuse
this trust you have given me."
     And now, she descended upon the battlestar for her second visit, and
for a meeting with her son.


     Boxey had gone to bed more than two centars ago, but he had yet to
fall asleep.  Instead, the little boy had just lay in bed in the dark,
his head buried in his pillow, and allowed himself to bitterly brood once
again.  The reunion with his father after he'd returned from the deep
patrol had been much quicker than he'd wanted it to be, and when he'd
found out that he was going to the Rising Star with Sheba again, it had
only left him feeling more bitter.
     Ever since Boxey had first realized that his father had become
seriously involved with Sheba, when he'd spotted them kissing each other
when they hadn't known he was watching, he'd felt nothing but a burning
bitterness and hatred of the brown-haired woman.  To see his father
become involved with any woman only seemed like a betrayal of everything
Apollo had told him on that difficult night a yahren and a half ago, when
he'd to give him reassurance and comfort after his mother had died.
     "Her spirit will always be with us Boxey.  And that's all that
matters.  We'll be able to carry on because we'll always know that she's
with us."
     To the little boy, such words could only have one meaning.  He
didn't need a new mother, and his father didn't need a new wife.  They
could be happy and content with just each other and the rest of their
extended family.  That was why in time, he'd found the nightmares he'd
experienced the first sectans after Serina's death fading away, because
he had the sense inside him that even though she was gone, he still had
all he needed.
     But if he saw his father becoming invovled with another
woman.....with *any* woman, then how could it mean anything but a desire
to forget about his mother?  A belief that the words he'd spoken to him
about her spirit being with them, ultimately had no meaning?  For Boxey,
it all seemed so obvious.
     And so, he had deliberately resisted all friendly overtures Sheba
had made to him in the several times that she'd tried to reach out.  From
his standpoint, if she got the message that he didn't want or need a new
mother, then she'd learn to back off.  And his father would realize that
he didn't need her either.  As far as he was concerned, nothing could
ever change his mind about that.  And until he saw signs that his father
had gotten the hint and broken up with her, he knew he couldn't feel
happy inside again.
     As he lay in bed, still brooding, he became aware of something
touching his shoulder.
     "Muffit, go away," he said without turning over, thinking that his
beloved robot daggit had decided to climb into bed with him.  But as he
felt the touch linger on his shoulder, the little boy suddenly realized
that it wasn't the furry sensation of Muffit, but rather......a soft
human hand.
     Abruptly, Boxey turned over and looked up and his eyes widened in
shock as he saw standing before him in white, the smiling face of his
mother.
     "Hello, Boxey," Serina said tenderly.
     "Mommy!" he jumped up from his bed and suddenly hugged her, "Mommy,
you've come back!"
     "No, Boxey, no," she shook her head as she hugged him back, and
reveling in the joy of being able to hold her son in her arms again, "I
haven't come back.  Before I say anything else to you, you have to
understand a few things."  She set him down on the bed, "Can you do that
for me?"
     "Yes, Mommy, yes!" the little boy's awed sense of joy wasn't
diminished in the slightest.
     "Okay," Serina knelt down so that she was at eye level with him,
"First, you have to understand that I haven't come back.  I've only come
to visit you this one time only, and I had to ask for a very special
favor to be able to do this, because this is not part of the rules we
operate under when the spirit leaves this world.  And when we're done
talking to each other, you're not going to remember that I ever visited
you.  But what I do expect you to do is to remember inside of you, the
things I have to say.  Do you understand all that?"
     There was confusion in Boxey's face, "But.....Mommy, why can't you
come back again?  And why can't I......remember....."
     "Don't ask those questions again, Boxey," her voice took on that
gentle but firm tone she had used so many times with him, "You can't
understand the answers to them, yet.  Now are you willing to listen to
what I have to tell you?"
     Her son settled back and nodded dimly.
     "Good," Serina smiled at him again, "Boxey, the reason why I wanted
to talk to you, is because you need to stop hurting your father the way
you have."
     He frowned, "Hurt him?  But.....how have I done that?"
     "With your attitude toward Sheba," his mother said pointedly,
"You've been behaving terribly toward her, trying to make her feel
unwanted, and how you never want to be friends with her.  And that isn't
right, Boxey."
     Boxey was deeply confused and surprised, "But....Mommy, she's trying
to make him forget you!  I don't want him to forget you."
     She took his hand and squeezed it, "Boxey, he's not forgetting me! 
He's never going to forget me and what we shared together.  But Boxey,
you have to understand that for many people, positive memories aren't
always enough to let us go on with life.  And that's why they need to
find new opportunities to love again for a new stage of life, and that's
all your father is doing.  It doesn't mean he thinks less of me."
     "That doesn't make sense," he was shaking his head as if in
resistance, "How can he....feel about her the way he did about you,
without.....forgetting you?"
     Serina sighed and sat down on the bed next to Boxey.
     "Boxey," she said softly and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Do you
remember your Auntie Thalia?  The kind old woman who lived next door to
us on Caprica, who always looked after you whenever I had to go away on a
reporting assignment?"
     "Sure," Boxey said.
     "And you remember all the wonderful things she'd do for you,
whenever you had to stay with her?"
     "Yeah."
     "And you remember how sad you were when I had to tell you that she
hadn't survived the night of the Destruction and that you'd never see her
again?"
     He looked down at the floor, "Yeah."
     "And in all that time since, you've found new people who do the same
things for you that Thalia did.  Athena, Cassiopeia, and those like
Starbuck and Boomer who are like uncles to you.  You've learned to
appreciate all the things they've done for you, haven't you?"
     "Sure," Boxey looked back at his mother.
     "And in all that time that you've learned to accept what they've
given you, you haven't forgotten about Thalia and what she meant to you,
have you?"
     "No, but......that's not the same thing!"
     "Why isn't it?" Serina asked pointedly, and when there was no answer
from her son, she knew that she'd succeeded in making her point.  Still,
she decided to press on, "Let me give you another example.  Muffit means
a lot to you, but does that mean you don't remember the first Muffit? 
The real daggit you had on Caprica?"
     For the first time, Boxey avoided looking at her, "Mommy, why can't
you understand?"
     "I do understand, Boxey," Serina's voice became soft and tender
again, "You dearly want something that you know you can't ever have
again, which is me alive, and because you know you can't have that, you
take out your frustration on the first woman your father falls in love
with.  But Boxey, what you're doing isn't showing respect for me, it's
just being selfish on your part.  And no matter how much you try to come
up with an excuse to justify your thinking, it doesn't change the fact
that it's wrong.  And it's not worthy behavior of the son I love so
dearly."
     He looked back at her and she could see the tears forming in his
eyes.  She reached out and gently wiped them away.
     "Don't cry Boxey," she summoned the words she'd used to him once
before on the night she'd died, "That's no way for my brave junior
warrior to act.  All you need to do is realize that you're not losing
something.  You're gaining a beautiful, precious gift that will make the
next part of your life more rewarding than you could ever have imagined. 
And Sheba knows how much my memory means to you and your father, and
she'd never do anything to lessen that.  All she wants is the chance to
be part of your life the way the rest of your new family has become part
of your life.  You can do that for her, can't you?"
     He looked down at the bed, as if he were reluctant to admit he was
wrong.  And that was enough to tell Serina why she had to appear directly
to him, because if he was still somewhat resistant under these
circumstances, then there was no way he would ever have accepted the
advice through the normal means of unseen visitation.
     "Boxey," now she knew it was time to be more stern, "If you aren't
willing to listen to what I have to say, then you're not respecting my
memory at all.  And that would be the most disappointing thing to me that
I could ever think possible."
     Boxey looked up and suddenly threw his arms around her and started
to cry, "I'm sorry, Mommy.  I'm sorry.  I don't want you to be mad at
me."
     "It's okay," Serina hugged him tenderly and decided to let him cry,
to get it out of his system, "It's okay, baby.  I love you always.  Your
father loves you.  And soon, you'll feel a real mother's love again in
your life, and you'll see how blest you are.  That's all I want for you
as you grow up and become a fine young man some day."
     For over three centons she kept holding her son in her arms until
she finally let go of him.  To her relief, she saw that he'd wiped his
eyes and stopped crying.
     "I have to go now, Boxey," Serina rose, "As I said, you won't
remember ever seeing me.  But you will remember the advice I've given
you, and do as I've told?"
     "Yes, Mommy," Boxey nodded, "I'll.....remember."
     "That's good," his mother smiled, "Now you go to sleep, and in the
morning, you'll feel all right."
     His gaze on her lingered for centon before he finally settled down
on the bed and turned over.  Several centons later, he was fast asleep.
     Serina sighed, and tenderly touched him one last time.  Then, she
moved out to the center of the room and looked up.
     "All of my tasks are now done," she said with reverence, "I thank
you for letting me say these final farewells to those I loved most in
this life.  And for giving them some encouragement that they can draw
from and apply to their lives in the future.  I am now ready to return
and do what else is expected of me now."
     A shower of light came over her with dazzling brilliance.  She
looked back and gave her sleeping son one last smile and wave before her
presence departed for the last time.  
     When Boxey awoke the next morning, he had the most wonderful
sensation inside him that he couldn't understand at all.  But the only
thing he did understand was that all of the bitterness and hate he'd felt
when he'd gone to bed, wasn't there any longer.


     As the morning cycle came over the 220 ships of the Fleet, the
silent, empty activity of the night gave way to the bustling activity of
the day.  For most of the 70,000 people who lived in the Fleet, it was
time for them to look ahead to what the new day had to offer.
     Aboard the Rising Star, Apollo and Sheba awoke and found themselves
indulging in one more impromptu session of lovemaking before they finally
decided it was time to return to the Galactica.
     "So who do we tell first?" Apollo said as he dressed himself.
     "Boxey," Sheba said from inside the turbowash room, "He has to be
first.  Then the Commander, then Starbuck, and.....well from there on it
doesn't matter what the pecking order is."
     "You're right," Apollo said, as he put on his jacket, "Let's just
hope our newfound optimism isn't misplaced."
     Sheba emerged dressed in a spare uniform she'd brought over in a
traveling pack.  Apollo marveled at how fresh and radiant she looked even
this early in the morning.  
     "Apollo," she said, "I just have the feeling he's not going to even
object.  And I don't have the slightest idea why I feel that way, but
it's there."
     "That would be the answer to a prayer," Apollo said as he collected
all of the things he'd brought over as well.  "Okay, time to go."
     She looked about the room, "I expect you to book this place again
for us on our wedding night.  I'm beginning to think of it as our own
personal room."
     "That's a promise," Apollo smiled, and then came up to her,
"But.....I think if it's okay with you, maybe we should try to avoid
being......intimate again until the wedding night."
     "I don't have any problem with that," Sheba nodded, "We.....have all
the time we need for  that."
     "Of course," he said.  Left unspoken was how both of them had an
almost serene feeling inside that they didn't have to worry about the
possiblity of losing each other so quickly as a result of their duties as
warriors.  As if they could both take for granted the idea that they had
many yahrens together ahead of them.
     As they left the luxury room and made their way back to the
passageway that would take them to the Docking Lounge, they found their
conversation shifting to routine fare.
     "Did you sleep okay?"
     "Yeah, how about you?"
     "I wish I could remember what it was I dreamt, but all I know is
that I just felt so relaxed when I woke up," Sheba said.  "And that's
odd, because usually I tend to remember what I dreamt."
     "Same here," Apollo admitted, "I can't remember what I dreamt
either, but I know it had to be a good one."
     They entered the Docking Lounge, where a dozen people were waiting. 
They looked up at the chronometer and saw that the next shuttle would
arrive in five centons.  And then they both noticed that it would be the
passenger shuttle Callisto.
     "I don't think that's a coincidence," Sheba noted, "If we need
another reminder about telling the Commander, that's the most powerful
one I can think of."
     "Agreed," Apollo nodded.  "I'd forgotten that the other major
passenger shuttle in the Fleet is named in her honor."
     The trip back to the battlestar took more than twenty centons.  When
they reached the Galactica, they wasted no time heading for Apollo's
quarters, where they knew Boxey would be.
When they reached the door, they both looked at each other and clasped
hands in a show of strength.  Then, Apollo opened the door.
     As soon as it slid open, they saw Boxey reading one of his study
books with Muffit alongside him.  The little boy looked up and before
either of them could say a word, he'd run up with arms outstretched to
his father.
     "Hey," Apollo was taken aback as he accepted his son's hug, "You're
feeling pretty chipper this morning, aren't you?"
     Boxey let go of him and looked his father in the eye, "Dad, I'm
sorry," he said.
     Apollo looked at him quizzically, "You're sorry?"
     "For being so bad," he looked at Sheba, "I'm sorry to you too. 
I.....still want to be friends."
     Sheba could feel her heart skip a beat, as she knelt down and
clasped both of his hands.
     "I want to be your friend too, Boxey," she said, "And.....if you're
willing, I'd be so glad to be a lot more to you."
     "I'm willing," he said with a sincerity that Apollo knew he couldn't
doubt.  "I really am."
     Apollo knelt beside them and put his hand on his son's shoulder. 
"In that case, Boxey, what would you say if I told you that Sheba and I
are going to be married, and that she's going to be your new mother?"
     He looked at his father and flashed that gap-toothed grin that
Apollo had always found endearing, "I'd say yea!"
     Apollo had to fight away his sense of disbelief that it had worked
out without having to say a word at all to him.  "Well, I guess we all
say yea, don't we?" he grinned.
     "We sure do!"  Sheba grinned too.
     The three of them all came together in a circle of embrace.  All of
them feeling so happy that it was a long time before they could finally
let go.
     And then, the three of them went off to spread the news to the rest
of their friends and family.

                    Epilogue

     The next evening cycle had taken hold of the Fleet.  After a day of
spreading happy news to all around the Fleet, wherever there was a friend
or family member who needed to be told, Apollo and Sheba were now ending
the day in Adama's quarters to tell the Commander at last about the
events of their recent deep patrol together.
     "Good Lord," Adama was thunderstruck by the magnitude of what they
had told them.  "It's so incredible to think that a ship like that,
filled with......creatures like that could exist, but...I do believe your
story."
     "We were sure you would, Father," Apollo and Sheba were both sitting
in chairs across from Adama, holding each other's hand.  "But.....from an
official standpoint, you can see why we didn't think we could report
this."
     "Yes, I do understand," the commander nodded, "There are only a very
select few who have ever come to terms with the nature of who Count Iblis
really was.  And unfortunately that does not include the members of the
Council.  You are certain that this.....derelict won't be lying in our
path by the time we reach the position?"
     "We are, Adama," Sheba said, "Because Iblis realized that there is a
way to defeat him within that domain, so that means if he ever plans on
springing a new trap, it's going to be done by other means."
     "That makes sense.  And he has all the time he needs to think of
that.  It's best we treat that as a problem that likely won't affect us
in the short-term, but once it does, we have to be sure of how to act." 
He then shook his head, "It's sad though, to learn how horrible the
Callisto's real fate was."
     "True," Apollo nodded, "But at least we helped the last survivor
find some eternal peace."
     "And there's one other thing we found out, Adama," Sheba said,
"Iblis inadvertantly revealed that the Pegasus is still out there,
somewhere."
     Adama's eyes narrowed, "He what?"
     "That's right, Father," Apollo said, "One of the.....creatures Sheba
saw was someone she recognized from the Pegasus."
     "A junior pilot from Silver Spar Squadron," Sheba jumped in, "And he
was used by Iblis to try and trap me, by making me think that he'd
enslaved the Pegasus and the entire crew, and that I had to surrender to
him in order to free their souls.  But I knew Iblis was lying, because if
the Pegasus had been enslaved, I know I would have seen more visual
evidence of that.  I think this poor pilot got lost on a patrol and ended
up trapped and enslaved aboard the derelict.  And since I know this man
was still aboard the Pegasus at the time she disappeared, then that means
she's still alive.  Or at the very least, we can now say with absolute
certainty that she wasn't destroyed by the two baseships in that battle."
     "Well that certainly is good news, Sheba.  Though it doesn't give us
anything in terms of clues as to where the Pegasus might be now."
     "That's true," Commander Cain's daughter admitted, "But since this
derelict has been operating in this general quadrant of the galaxy, then
that means the Pegasus in all likelihood chose to go out into deep space,
and not head back toward charted space after we became separated.  That
means the chances of our finding each other again, aren't as remote as we
think.  Not highly probable, I'll grant you, but certainly within the
realm of possibility."
     Adama was nodding in agreement, "I'll concede that point.  Certainly
if we were to ever make contact with your father again, that would be an
even bigger answer to prayer than all this wonderful news of today has
been.  But until something more definite happens, Sheba, I think you'd
agree for the need to be cautious about that."
     "Absolutely," Sheba's voice was firm, "I've made myself content with
whatever happens regarding my father, whether he returns or doesn't. 
Besides," she looked over and smiled at Apollo, "I've already got more
important things to consider even if he did come back."
     Apollo leaned over and kissed her and she reciprocated.  Both of
them seemingly oblivious to Adama's presence just across from them.
     The Commander's only response to the scene before him was to lean
back in his chair and smile wryly in total contentment.

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

August 14, 2004