Change of Command
by-Alice
December 15, 2002

     Omega jumped as the lights dimmed and the red alert sounded.
Instinctively, he sprang up and bolted for the door. As he entered the
corridor he was slammed against the wall as it shuddered and the decking
bucked beneath him. The pressure doors at each end of the corridor were
already closing. He raced forward but with the sound of
re-pressurization, the door sealed itself shut. Somewhere on the
Galactica the hull had been breached and an air seal had broken.
     Omega stared numbly at the closed door as another jolt knocked him
off his feet. "My God," he whispered, "what's happening?"
     "Omega!" Doctor Salik called as he entered the corridor. His face
paled as he saw the sealed doors. He swallowed and recovered some of his
composure. "Well you can't help them now but you can help me. Come on."
Omega just stood there numb with conflicting emotions. He needed to get
to the bridge. Whatever was happening, it was bad. But, he couldn't just
abandon Rigel. She was giving birth to their first child. He couldn't
just leave her. "Come on, son. You can't get to them and Rigel needs you
now. "
     Reluctantly, he followed the doctor back into the Life Center.
     Meanwhile, elsewhere on the Galactica....
     "Boomer, you alright?" Starbuck called out as he looked back over
his shoulder to where Boomer was picking himself up off the floor. The
last jolt had sent Starbuck flying into Apollo and had slammed them both
up against the corridor wall as Boomer, who had lost his footing, went
sliding into the other wall. Boomer waved Starbuck on ahead as he
hurriedly limped after him. Satisfied that his friend was O.K., Starbuck
turned and raced after Apollo who had just disappeared into the launch
bay.
     Upon entering the launch bay Starbuck gagged from the acid smell of
smoke as it assaulted his lungs and eyes. His eyes, now welling with
tears, stung from the toxic fumes that filled the bay. With desperate
urgency he ran toward his Viper. He jumped into his cockpit flipping
switches as fast as he could. If they'd taken such a bad hit already
without the Vipers launched then the Lords help them if they didn't get
out there before it was too late.

----------------

     "Get those Vipers launched!" Adama barked, his hands frantically
working at the fastening of his tunic, as he sprinted up the short flight
of stairs to the main control deck of the Galactica's bridge. It was the
middle of the third shift and Adama had been asleep when the alert had
sounded. Without thought he had jumped into his uniform and raced down
the short corridor to the Bridge, reaching it just as the pressure doors
began to close. He had caught sight of Tigh making a running leap through
the upper deck's door, just making it as it closed behind him.
     Now Adama scanned the monitors of the stations around the main deck.
The Galactica's two launch bays were a flurry of unwelcome activity. Beta
deck was on fire. Adama watched as pilots ran past the debris and fire
toward their Vipers as the ground crews frantically tried to move the
nearest Vipers away from the flames. Alpha deck had fared better. The
monitors showed some Vipers powering up and Adama watched as each launch
tube indicator turned from red to green, signaling the pilots were ready
to launch.
     "Get fire control to the landing bay before that fire spreads!" Tigh
cried out, as he jumped into the flight officer's chair and began to pull
up data on all the monitors there. His tunic top was askew where he had
mis-fastened the top three closures. "Third wave coming in from quadrant
three," he called out.
     "Do we have any Vipers up yet?" Adama asked, trying to keep the
desperation he was feeling out of his voice.
     "No sir," Tigh replied.
     Their eyes met and they exchanged worried looks. "Lords help us,"
Adama murmured.

---------------

     "Blue squadron ready to launch!" Apollo cried out.
     "Transferring control to Viper craft, launch when ready!" came the
rapid response from the bridge personnel.
     Apollo's Viper rocked down the launch tube. He could see pinpoint
sparks of laser fire at the end of the tube and abruptly realized that
the Cylons were strafing the launch tubes, hoping to destroy any
launching Vipers. All he could do was hold his breath and pray as he
burst forth from the launch tube, his lasers firing, trying to clear a
path for himself. Immediately, laser fire surrounded his Viper. "They're
strafing the launch tubes!" he cried out a warning.
     Starbucks Viper suddenly appeared at his side firing wildly. "To
your right Apollo!"
     "We have to keep the launch tubes clear!" Apollo called out.
     "We can't stay here for long. The fire's to thick and we're too
closely packed. Just perfect targets" Starbuck responded. "We need help."
     "If we don't keep the launch tubes clear then our help will never
make it!" Apollo called back. His ship rocked to the left as he took a
grazing shot. A quick check of his instruments told him he had sustained
little damage.
     "How many squadrons are up?" Apollo asked as he mentally tallied the
ships he could see. With the fighting so close to the launch tubes
additional Vipers couldn't be launched without risking a collision. Blue
squadron was the only one that had made it out on this side.
     "Silver Spar's out on this side, but Green's lost three pilots just
trying to launch," Bojay responded frantically.
     *Two?* Apollo fought off the sinking feeling this information left
him with. There were just too many Raiders for just two squadrons to hold
their ground. Starbuck was right they were perfect targets all clustered
near the launch tubes and without reinforcements they were doomed.
     "Boomer, Jolly make a run forward. Giles, Greenbean you guys head
aft. See if you can draw off some of these Raiders. Starbuck you and I
will keep the launch tubes clear. Let see if we can make some room so we
can get some ships launched." As the four Vipers pealed off several
Raiders followed. "This is as good as it's going to get! Yellow squadron
launch!" Apollo cried out hoping with all his heart that he wasn't
sending them to their deaths.
     With in seconds the first Vipers began to emerge from the launch
tubes. Apollo wanted to cheer as they successfully made it out, but he
needed all his attention as he followed the nearest Raider that was
starting a strafing run. He lined it up, fired and watched as it turned
into a short, but intense, fireball. Starbuck was arrowing in from the
opposite side also turning his target into charred space dust. Apollo
turned his Viper to retrace his path while he tired to keep the launch
tubes clear. Then he saw a Raider start it's strafing run from a point
below him. He inverted his Viper in an attempt to bring his guns to bare
on the Raider before the next Viper launched but it was too late. As the
Viper emerge it was hit by the cylon's laser fire and disintegrated in
it's own lonely fireball. Gritting his teeth in raw anger, Apollo blasted
the cylon Raider into oblivion.
     "Bojay, let me know when you've got all your Vipers out."
     "You got it, Apollo." With the extra Vipers out, Bojay's voice was
now filled with bravado. "We'll hold it here. But, I just saw a group
take off. I think they're heading toward the bridge."
     "Blue squadron out to point, protect the bridge." Apollo turned his
Viper in an upward arc that would bring him up the Galatcia's side to her
back. His maneuver would allow him to traverse her spine while Starbuck
came around from the side. He knew that behind him Boomer and Jolly were
mirroring their maneuver while Giles and Greenbean would come in from the
other side.
     As Apollo's Viper reach the apex of his turn a Cylon Raider came
careening towards him from across the Galactica's back. Apollo
instinctively reacted before his mind could even process what was
happening. His Viper turned in an attempt to spin off right to avoid the
imminent collision. He felt a shuddering jolt as the Raider tagged his
left wing as it plummeted past him. Flames and debris surrounded his
Viper as the Raider impacted on the Galactica.

--------------

     On the bridge, the lights flickered as the Galactica gave a massive
shudder tossing, everyone to the side. "They're making suicide runs,"
Tigh called out as he grabbed the railing for support.
     "Damage," Adama called as he clung to the monitors before him.
     "Two bad hits to port, forward of the main flight decks, on beta
section. One hit starboard on alpha section," the duty office reported as
he held onto the stair railing with one hand and his data pad in the
other. "We've lost air seals on three levels of beta section and in the
main connector between the landing bays. Also, Alpha landing bay has lost
her air seal - the Vipers can only land on beta deck."
     "Get the flight crews in pressure suits. The pilots can stay in
their ships as the crews refuel them, but we need Alpha bay functional."
Adama studied the monitors before him. The attack had come upon them so
suddenly that half of their off duty personnel had not made it to their
stations when they had lost the airlocks. All the monitors told the same
story. It was going bad.
     "Suicide runs coming in point four!" Tigh called out suddenly.
     "Watch out they're gonna hi..........."

------------

     "Oh my God," Starbuck cried out. His ship had just come up even with
the bridge when he saw a Cylon Raider dive down and explode on impact.
"They got the bridge!"
     "Captain Apollo to the Galactica, come in! Captain Apollo to the
Galactica, come in! Damn it answer me!" Apollo wanted to scream in
frustration. He pushed his Viper as fast as it could go. Maybe Starbuck
was wrong, maybe it had just hit near the bridge.
     "How bad does it look, Starbuck?" Boomer asked anxiously, as he
followed Apollo's Viper forward.
     "Bad,...I don't think....oh my God." As Starbuck's Viper came around
he could see the bridge. There was a blackened charred area just to the
right of the main view port. In the center he could see a tangle of
metal. There was nothing left of the Raider in that burned out jagged
hole, but worse, he could see that the bridge was venting gases.
     Since Apollo's Viper was flying down along top of alpha section he
could see the geyser of venting gases before he saw the actual impact
site. "No...," the silent whisper seemed to echo from Apollo's very soul.
     It echoed in every pilot's heart. Had they lost the bridge? Had they
lost the Commander?
     "Starbuck to your right. Look out!" Boomer called out.
     As the battle continued there was no sound from the bridge.

------------

     "They're pulling out, they're leaving." Giles's voice was weary and
strained.
     "No. They're just going for reinforcements," Apollo snapped back.
     "Should we pursue them?" Boomer asked in a subdued voice.
     "No. We go home and see how bad the damage is." As Apollo gave the
orders for the squadrons to return his mind was already elsewhere. His
eyes scanned the blackened side of the bridge. His mind would not accept
what his heart was telling him, not until he'd seen all the evidence
himself, but in his soul he knew that the Commander was dead. His father
was dead.

------------

     The instant Apollo's Viper touched down he punched the canopy open
and was out and heading for the lift before his ship had even come to a
complete stop against the landing restraints.
     When the doors opened on the command level, Apollo bolted from the
lift. He could see the crowd that had gathered at the pressure door to
the bridge. The door was sealed shut. His heart pounded in his chest and
all he could hear was a buzzing in his ears as he headed toward the
sealed door. The once short passage now seemed to stretch on endlessly.
Pale faces turned toward him but he determinedly ignored them as he
continued on to the sealed door. He could almost see beyond the glass
view port in the door, when his forward momentum was suddenly halted as
someone grabbed his right arm. He tried to shake it off, ignore it and
brush past, but it held fast.
     Apollo turned on the man holding him and his eyes meet with those of
Chief Engineer Shadrick. He abruptly turned away, as if burnt, from the
pain and pity he saw reflected in those eyes. "Let me go Chief," came his
whispered plea.
     Shadrick looked at the fixed expression on the face before him.
"What good will it do, Apollo?" he asked gently
     "I have to.....have to see." The words caught in Apollo's throat but
Shadrick could see nothing behind the veiled eyes.
     "There's nothing to see," Shadrick gently responded. He was
apprehensive by the lack of emotion he was seeing in the individual be
fore him. Apollo had always shown great caring for those around him and
never hesitated to show it. He had, on several occasions, cried unabashed
at the loss of a fellow pilot. It was eerie to see him so seemingly
unemotional at this moment.
     "Shadrick you don't understand." In frustration, Apollo tried to
push past the chief, his eyes staring fixedly at the sealed door before
them.
     "Apollo, listen to me," Shadrick grabbed Apollo by both arms forcing
him to look at him. He had seen a similar look in the eyes of one of his
engineers. He had been helping an injured friend out of a damaged
section, only to have the corridor collapse leaving the engineer alone
with no sign of his friend. It alarmed Shadrick to see that look in
Apollo's eyes. He had to get him to understand what had happened. "When
the Raider hit it fractured the outer hull." He swallowed as he mind
searched for the right words to get through to Apollo. "They lost their
air seal. There was nothing we could do."
     "No...," still refusing to believe what Shadrick was trying to tell
him, what he knew was true, Apollo struggled to pull himself free from
Shadrick grip, to get away from the truth in those words.
     Desperate to make Apollo understand him, Shadrick cried out,
"Apollo, they're all dead!"
     At that moment, Starbuck and the rest of Blue squadron entered the
corridor, the chief's words reverberated off the walls of the short
corridor, halting them in their tracks.
     Slowly, Apollo raised his eyes to meet Shadrick's. They were
brimming with unshed tears and Shadrick flinched at the pain and loss he
saw there. "He's dead," Shadrick continued. Although he was relieved that
he had broken though to Apollo, he regretted the necessity of it. " I'm
sorry," was all he could say as he dropped his arms releasing Apollo.
     Apollo turned away, defeated.
     Starbuck watched as the life seem to drain out of Apollo. His chest
tightened with such force he could barely breath. He blinked back the
tears that now threatened. Dead? They were 'all' dead? Adama had been the
father Starbuck had never known. Since the time he and Apollo had first
been assigned together, Adama had taken him into his family and treated
him like a son. His loss was unthinkable, but combined with the loss of
the entire bridge crew, it was inconceivable. His mind couldn't grasp it.
This couldn't be happening. It was so unreal, like some bad holovid.
Unheeded, tears began to flow down his face. He looked over at Apollo and
knew what his friend was going through.
     Apollo placed his hand on the corridor wall and seemed to collapse
against it. Starbuck approached wanting to offer some comfort, but not
knowing how or what to say. As he stood behind him Starbuck gently put a
hand on Apollo's shoulder.
     "Apollo, I..." Starbuck faltered as his throat closed in on his
words.
     "No," Apollo whispered. "NO!" he shouted and pushed himself away
from the wall, with such force, that Starbuck staggered backward as he
watched Apollo sprint back into the lift.
     Regaining his balance, Starbuck immediately started to follow but
Shadrick placed an arm across his chest to stopped him
     "Let him go Starbuck,. He needs some time to be alone, to sort this
all out."
     "But, chief I want to help. I can help." Starbuck protested.
     "Not now, Starbuck. Later he'll need someone to talk to, for now let
him come to terms with what has happened."
     Starbuck glared at Shadrick unconvinced and continued to the lift.
He ignored the questioning look Boomer gave him as he pushed the lift's
call panel. "No, you don't understand."
     Starbuck disregarded the looks he was getting and waited for the
lift. As the doors opened he was startled when Boomer and Jolly joined
him in the lift. Jolly just nodded and Boomer just gave him one of his
'you know you're not doing this alone" looks. Starbuck's mouth quirked
into a slight smile as his mood lightened by the support of his friends.
He called back to Shadrick as the doors began to close. "No one should be
alone at a time like this."

------------

     Where Apollo was going he didn't know. He just walked, putting
distance between himself and reality . He had tried to sort it all out
but it was as if his mind had gone numb. How had the Cylons gotten in
such an attack with out any warning? Such a deadly attack -it was
unimaginable. Every time he tried to think about all those they'd lost,
his mind would focus on the few he couldn't see how he would live
without. He couldn't imagine not finding Tigh, at all hours, stalking the
bridge, forever keeping the bridge crew on their toes. The crew that now
was gone... Apollo shook his head trying to dispel the images that
unwillingly came to him. He turn down another corridor as if this could
take him farther from the images his mind was determined to plague him
with.
     The thought of how they had died, haunted him down each corridor, as
he tried not to think of his family suffering such a fate. But, they had.
Athena...the same thought kept returned to him every time his mind came
to her. He was supposed to look out for her. He had always looked out for
her. Even after she had threatened him with bodily harm if he didn't
stop. 'That's what big brothers do', he had told her at the time. He had
lost his little brother and now his little sister. His rational mind knew
that they were adults and warriors in their own right, but in this numb
state there were no rational thoughts. All he felt was the protective big
brother in him that could not let go of the feelings of failure. He
hadn't protected them when it mattered.
     He turned down another rarely used corridor. He knew every corridor
and passageway of this old ship. As a child he had played down the now
seemingly unused corridors. Areas that had been cordoned off due to
damages, now seemed to beckon to him.
     Adama. Commander of the fleet. President of the Council of the
Twelve. His father. Thoughts of his father were still to painful to
consider and he shied away from them.
     How long Apollo wandered the corridors before he found himself at
the Life Center, he didn't know. His mind seemed to have just shut down
as his feet took him farther down each corridor, until he looked up and
found himself there. He knew this was where he'd find his father. But the
Gods knew he didn't want to. Unbidden, his hand pushed the entry key.
     As the door opened, Apollo hesitated uncertainly for a moment, then
slowly, almost mindlessly, he headed toward the back of the center.
Towards the cold rooms there.
     Doctor Salik met him half way. "Apollo, I'm sorry."
     "He's here," Apollo stated.
     Dr. Salik nodded his head. "You don't have to go in."
     "Yes, I do. I have to...to see for myself." Apollo hesitated, his
eyes never leaving the doors ahead of him.
.    Do you want me to go in with you?" was all the doctor could offer.
     "No, no...," his voice trailed off as he continued forward. Cold air
surrounded him as the door opened, and a chill ran down his spine that
had nothing to do with the temperature. Apollo's eyes scanned the pods
before him and for the first time he realized just how badly the Galactic
had been hit.
     The room was full - too full. Low stasis pods filled the room and
there were even bodies in the aisles where they had run out of pods. The
cold gases that floated near the flooring, swirled around him, stirred up
by his entry. They formed ghostly shapes, as if the dead were taking
notice of his arrival.
     Then his eyes found the pod he'd been looking for, and all other
thoughts were gone. Slowly, he approached it, his eyes never leaving the
face before him. He reached a hand out to steady himself, placing it on
the next pod, then drew it aback as he realized that the other pod held
Colonel Tigh.
     "Father." Apollo sank to his knees at the side of the pod. His mouth
opened and closed as he vainly tried to say what he was feeling, what was
in his heart. The reality of the fact that his father was not just
sleeping before him, but was indeed dead, began to sink in, and he
finally found his voice. "Oh Lord father what now? What are we going to
do now? What am I supposed to do?" The tears that he had not been able to
shed, now streamed, unheeded, down his face.
     "I don't want to be alone." The anguished plea echoed hollowly
around the still room. "Whom do I turn to for answers now?" His mind
searched then researched, until a new fact, hidden by his greif, became
all to clear to him. He looked back at Tigh, lying just as still as his
father, then back to his father. "There is no one else. I'm it." A weight
of responsibility, so strong it was painful, seemed to settle on his
shoulders. "Oh Lord, father, no. I don't think I can. I'm not ready,
I...," his gaze traveled around the room then back to his father.
Silently, he bowed his head and finally gave in to his emotions and
grieved.
     Behind him, he heard the door open and close. He didn't care who it
was, he just wished they go away and leave him alone. He heard a sob,
then someone fell to their knees beside him, breathing raggedly as they
cried.
     Apollo looked up in shock as his unbelieving eyes fell on Athena. He
hesitated only a micron, before he gathered her into his arms crying her
name. "Athena! Oh God, Athena. I thought you were dead."
     "Oh, Apollo," she cried as she crumpled in his arms. " He can't be
dead. He just can't be."
     "Where were you? How ? Oh Lords, I'm so glad you alive!" Apollo held
Athena close, almost crushing her in his relief.
     Athena looked up, realizing what he was saying. "Oh Lord, Apollo,
I'm sorry! I'm fine," she pulled back and look into his eyes." I wasn't
on the bridge. I had gone on break. I was bringing a coffee back for
Reggie when the alert sounded. I dropped the drink when I felt the first
hit and ran as fast as I could, but the pressure door had already closed!
I couldn't get back onto the bridge! I tried every passage I could, but
there was no way in!" Her voice was growing more and more strident. "I
managed to get into the Scanner room, when another hit knocked me off my
feet. I couldn't get up in time, to get out of the room. The door closed,
sealing me in! All I could do was watch and listen to the battle." Her
voice was turning hysterical, "I couldn't do anything!"
     Concerned, Apollo shook Athena. "Athena, it's OK. It's alright."
     Athena turned disbelieving eyes on her brother. "Alright? We've
lost, we're as good as dead. What are we going to do? Oh Daddy!" Athena
held onto Apollo and buried her head in his shoulder as sobs shook her.
     Athena's words unnerved Apollo, as he realized that they were
echoing what he himself had been feeling. "No." As he held her, his voice
grew stronger. "No, we are not going to die." Gently, he squeezed her
shoulders. "Athena...," Apollo leaned back, trying to see her face.
     Reluctantly, she looked up at him. "Apollo, father was all that was
holding this fleet together we both know that."
     "No, he was it's hope. But, if we give up, father will have died for
nothing. All that we have suffered will be for nothing!" The words caught
in Apollo's throat but he forced himself to go on. "They all would have
died for nothing. Athena, we can't let that happen. We can't give up."
Apollo's jaw tightened as he promised, "my son, will not die."
     "Do you really believe that?" She studied his face trying to find a
reason to believe him.
     "I have to. I can't give up, not now, too many lives depend on it."
His face was set with look she recognized as one she had seen on their
father's face before. Then he looked down at her a gave her a small
smile. "After all, that's what big brothers do."
     His statement had the desired response and she smiled back at him.
Athena reached forward and again hugged her brother. "O.K. big brother,
you win this one."
     Then she pulled back, and her eyes began to well up again as she
turned back to look at their father. Apollo pulled her close, and rested
his head on hers, as they both grieved together.

------------

     There was a crowd awaiting them as they emerged from the cold room.
     Apollo looked over the expectant faces before him. Rigel, sitting
near the door, was protectively holding a small bundle to her chest while
Omega stood behind her his hands gently rubbing her shoulders. Starbuck
and Boomer were standing near the medic's station where they had
apparently been talking to Cassiopeia. All three had looked up and
Starbuck locked eyes with Apollo, the question in his gaze clear to
Apollo. He nodded his head in response and Starbuck nodded back, letting
him know he was there if needed. Near the main door, Doctor Salik and
Chief Engineer Shadrick were talking. Both were eyeing Apollo
apprehensively.
     There was suddenly a tension in the air and Apollo knew they were
expecting him to say something, to do somehting and take charge.
     "Dad!" everyone turned as Boxey ran forward launching himself into
his father's arms. He wrapped his arms around Apollo's neck so fiercely
that he almost choked him as he buried his head into Apollo's shoulder.
     Holding his son tightly, he tried to comfort the boy. "Boxey. Boxey,
it's alright." He tried to get a look at the boys face, but he was
clutching him too tightly. Apollo knelt, setting the boy on the ground
and gently disengaged him so he could see his face. Reluctantly, Boxey
eased up on the death grip he had on his father's neck and looked up at
him. The fear in those eyes tore at Apollo's heart.
     "I was worried. Me and Muffy couldn't find you." The words were
brave but the tears continued to flow.
     Apollo pulled the boy close again reassuringly hugging him. "I'm so
sorry, Boxey. I didn't mean to frighten you." Lost in his own grief,
Apollo had not considered that Boxey would come looking for him. Ashamed,
Apollo realized he didn't even know how long ago the battle had been.
     "I tried to looked for you on the Bridge, but it was all closed off,
and the landing bay was all torn up."
     Startled, Apollo pulled back and looked directly into Boxey's eyes.
"You know you're not to go near the landing bay, especially after an
attack! Boxey you can't....."
     "But, we had to find you!" The boy interrupted, as if sheer volume
could override any objections to his actions. The angry father in Apollo
was no match for the tear streaked face before him and he just held Boxey
close. "All over, places were busted up. Has it stopped? Are we going to
be okay??" Even with his head on Apollo's shoulder Boxey's words carried
around the room.
     It was one of many questions everyone wanted an answer to. "We'll
find out how bad the damage is, and repair it as best we can. We'll be
alright."
     "What about the Cylons?" Boomer asked.
     "We worry about the Galactica first. If we lose anymore airlocks we
won't have to worry about the Cylons."
     Boomer looked away, worried and uncertain.
     Apollo knew he had to head of the uncertainty he saw, before it
turned into something worse, like hopelessness. "Look, we can't just give
up. The Cylons will have to wait for reinforcements. Keep in mind, they
lost most of their Raiders in the attack." His look challenged them. He
was no longer a father comforting his frightened son, but their Flight
Captain they knew and respected. "They can't attack without
reinforcements and I don't plan on being around here when they show up!
We'll need damage reports! Starbuck, check the number and status of our
squadrons. We'll need to know how many of our pilots can still fly.
Boomer, take some warriors and check out our remaining Vipers. Help
organize the ground crews. Maybe Alpha bay isn't as bad as it looks.
Shadrick, how soon can you repair the bridge's airlock? We can't work for
long in pressure suits."
     Those assembled grinned at him while others nodded in agreement, yet
nobody had moved. "Well?" he said, "get a move on we haven't got all
day!" Starbuck jumped up and gave him a mock salute, as he and Boomer
headed out.
     Athena, put a hand on Boxey's shoulder. "Hey, I'm going to need some
help checking the galley. I have to make sure our food supply wasn't
damaged." She watched his eyes for any reaction and was pleased to see
him interested in what she was saying.
     "Muffy can sniff out mushies," he offered.
     Athena smiled brightly at him, "Great, why don't you and Muffit come
and help me then?"
     Boxey look from Athena to Apollo, "Can I, Dad?" he asked, his
enthusiasm for showing off what Muffit could do overriding his earlier
fears.
     "Of course you can." Apollo smiled warmly at Athena as she took
Boxey from him. He gently clasped Athena's arm in appreciation. "Thank
you."
     Athena smiled back at him. "Anytime big brother." Looking at Boxey
she shifted his weight in her arms as she headed out the door. "So, what
else have you taught Muffit to sniff out?" she asked him.
     As the door closed behind them, Apollo could hear Boxey's excited
voice. "Oh, lots of things, there's mushies, and cream cakes and.."
     "Apollo?" Apollo turned around to find Omega behind him. His eyes
burned with fatigue and something else, a shadow, that Apollo couldn't
identify. As haggard as he looked he still gave Apollo a lopsided smile.
"Since I can't report to my station do you know if any of the computer
rooms are intact?" Apollo watched his face as he spoke. His words were
light but his face showed more and Apollo realized it was guilt that
shadowed his eyes.
     Apollo knew that look. He'd felt it himself after the destruction of
the colonies. The doctors called it survivor's guilt; he just knew it as
hell. He also knew there wasn't anything he could say to Omega right now
that would make a difference.
     "I don't know. I guess that's where we should start our damage
check," Apollo suggested.
     "Apollo." Doctor Salik motioned Apollo over to him. Apollo told
Omega to wait for him, as he walked over to where the doctor was
standing, all the while dreading what additional problems the doctor
might have. Salik put a hand on Apollo's arm as he looked up at him
inquiring. "Are you alright?" he asked.
     Apollo checked the sarcastic remark that came to his lips. He
glanced at the injured in the Life Center, at Omega talking quietly to
Rigel, then back to Salik. "I don't have choice," he replied, "I have to
be." Apollo stared into Salik's eyes daring him to say otherwise.
     "Alright Apollo, but I'll be here if you need me."
     Apollo nodded at Salik, "Thanks," he said as he turned and headed
for the Life Center door.
     Omega met him at the door but turned back for one last look at
Rigel. Apollo followed his gaze and abruptly realized what Rigel was
holding. A baby. He looked back over to Omega who, even with the shadow
in his eyes, grinned idiotically back at him. Apollo thumped Omega on the
back as they walked out of the Life Center. "Congratulations! Whatever
happens, at least something good came out of today."
     The doors opened and Omega and Apollo walked out of the pressure
hatch that had been attached to the bridge entrance on the main level.
Their progress was slowed by the pressure suits they wore as they walk
out onto the bridge.
     Omega looked out across the main level of the bridge and shuddered.
The view port had shattered with the impact and shards of the clear metal
were strewn about the decking. To the left side of the view port was the
breach. It was a rupture in the wall about two meters long and one meter
across. As he looked through it he could see stars on the other side
before his view was block by one of the EVA technicians as they worked on
the rupture from the outside of the ship. He watched as the tech passed a
long thin piece of equipment through the breach to his counterpart on the
bridge. Omega looked away.
     As he looked across the now empty duty stations, once manned by
personnel he would never see again, his eyes blurred. The twisted metal
and naked wires spoke volumes about the damage that had been done. He
should have been here, his mind told him, even though he knew it would
not have made a difference. All that would have accomplished was that he
would be dead too, but he still felt that he had failed them by not being
here.
     "How in the name of Kobol...?" Omega heard Apollo's softly spoken
words through the com unit as they stood there looking over the damage.
     He watched as Apollo climbed the steps to the center command station
the bulky pressure suit at odds with his slow almost graceful movements.
The techs had reduced the gravity to one half in this part of the
Galactica to help with the repairs and it added an eerie feeling to the
too still bridge, not to mention nausea to Omega. He had never liked zero
gravity and even half gravity was unsettling to his stomach.
     The circular railing that usually surround the command station was
flattened and torn from its mounting on the right side. Part of the
forward bulkhead had been blown back into the bridge as the explosion
hit. The section had landed on the command station crushing the railing
and those that had been there. The retrieval teams had been unable to
move it. Instead of cutting it up to remove it they had reduced the
gravity and lifted it back into position. They had told Omega that it
would be more use to them in one piece as they used it in the repairs.
Omega tried not to think about the damage it had caused to the equipment
nor the people in its path.
     Omega, looking at the partially crushed computer station, followed
Apollo up the stairs when suddenly Apollo stopped in his tracks.
     Omega laid a hand on Apollo's shoulder as he walked past. "It's not
as bad as it looks. None of the hits we took managed to break the power
lines to the main computer or flight computer main frames in the computer
rooms." As Omega headed toward his computer console he saw what had
stopped Apollo. There was a dark stain on the landing near the crushed
railing. Omega just stared at it as visions of what must have happened
came unbidden to him. He closed his eyes and tried to block it out.
     A hand landed on his shoulder giving him a little shake dispelling
the visions. "Omega, did you hear me?" Apollo asked.
     "Um," Omega swallowing several times as he turned to Apollo and
tried to focus on the problems at hand. "I'm sorry what did you say?"
     "How long before we get the breach fixed and the air seal replaced?
"Apollo repeated.
     "Hopefully we should be able to re-pressurize the bridge in two to
three centars." Omega, having been returned to reality tried to get a
grip on the situation. He walked over to the main station and flipped
several switches to see what if anything would come up. He was surprised
to see that most of the station was still functional.
     "That looks promising" Apollo noted as he bent down to examine the
main cable lines of the damaged right side of the station. "The computer
techs were hopping the power and net cables hadn't been severed." He
pulled back part of a damaged section. "The outer casing is crushed but,
the cable lines look intact. That should please Tokin." Apollo stood up
and scanned the bridge.
     "Shadrick is hopping to get the replacement seals from the Solarious
within the next 30 centons." Omega continued as he looked back over to
the repair team working on the breach. "The repair techs told me they
should have the rupture sealed off in about two centars." He grinned as
he looked over at Apollo. "Shadrick told me it normally takes a full
twelve centars to replace this type of seal but he'd do it in two as a
favor to you."
     Omega could see Apollo shake his head before he turned back to face
him his smile vague. "As long as it doesn't leak I'll be happy."
     "A leak would be welcome about now." Both men turned as Shadrick
climbed up the bridge steps. "A leak I can handle."
     "What can't you handle? " Apollo asked the edge in his voice
evident. Even through the pressure helmet Omega could see the worry flash
across Apollo's face.
     Shadrick stopped at the top of the stairs. "A keel fracture."
     "A what?" Omega asked. T the term was not one he associated with a
battlestar.
     "A fracture to the main support structure of the Galactica,"
Shadrick clarified.
     "Where?" Omega asked, a burst of nausea that had nothing to do with
the gravity levels threatened to overwhelm him.
     "Just behind alpha section," Shadrick replied as he took a long look
around the bridge stopping when he too noticed the dark stain.
     "And," Apollo prompted when Shadrick didn't continue.
     "And," he sighed as he looked back at the two of them, "if we're not
careful the whole front section will tear itself apart."

------------

     Sheba hit the floor lever with everything she had. There was a loud
bang and the ringing sound of metal on metal as the cross beam she was
using vibrated from the force of her hit sending shockwaves unpleasantly
up her arms. With a painful hiss she dropped the beam and shook her arms
to alleviate the pain. "Frak that hurts!"
     "What are you doing?" Bojay's head appeared from around the shuttle
they were trying to free up. It had been thrown up against the main bay
doors separating the shuttle staging area and the launch bay. They were
trying to move it in order to open the doors but its landing skids were
jammed into the door's tracks.
     Awkwardly Sheba hugged her arms to her self. "Okay, so that's not
going to work."
     Coming around the shuttle Bojay raised his eyes brows at her. "What
won't work and what did you do?" He noticed the beam on the deck next to
the lever. "You hit it? With that?" Incredulous, he just started at her.
     "Yeah, well it seemed like a good idea at the time!" She went back
over and tried to manually move the lever. "If I can just loosen this, it
should release the door." she said through gritted teeth as she
unsuccessfully pushed and then pulled on the floor lever. "Oh,
felgercarb, it's just wedged too tight."
     "Let me have a look."
     Reluctantly Sheba moved aside as Bojay griped the lever in both
hands, firmly planted his feet and heaved. Nothing happened.
     "See, I told you. It's stuck." Sheba pointed at the decking near the
lever where buckling was plainly evident. "The inner workings must be
jammed."
     "So, hitting it with a cross beam was going to accomplish, what?"
Bojay knelt down and examined the side of the lever's base near the
buckling.
     "I was hoping it would relieve some of my frustration with the
fraking thing!" she admitted stubbornly, crossing her arms and glaring
angrily at the offending leaver.
     "Did it?" He asked, rising from his knee.
     Sheba's hands were moving up and down her arms. "No," she admitted.
     "Good, so I can assume you won't be attacking anymore levers today?"
     "I'll let you know." Arrogantly she lifted her nose up at him. It
was a game between them stemming from when Sheba was first assigned to
the Pegasus. Bojay had thought her a spoiled arrogant brat and treated
her as such. So that's what Sheba had given him, with such exaggerated
melodramatics that she had him holding his sides in laughter. Since then
whenever the situation seemed tense, she would automatically revert to
the game as a way of breaking the tension.
     "You do that." He pointed a wrench at her, smiling,then pointed it
back the way he came. "In the mean time I'll be over here removing the
skids. Why don't you check with Huron and see if he can get under there
and free that lever."
     Sheba turned around and tried to spot the tall thin technician. She
spotted his unruly mat of sandy hair over by the break table as he tossed
his head back trying, unsuccessfully to get his hair out of his eyes. He
was holding an odd black and gray piece of metal in one hand as he
stuffed a sweet pastry in his mouth with the other. He already had two
water containers under one arm and was picking up a cup of something
seaming hot. Comically he tried to take a sip but soon realized he had
the pastry in his mouth and both his hands were engaged. Perplexed he
stood there moving his arm up and down.
     As tired as she was Sheba knew he was working on even less sleep and
it now appeared to be catching up with him. She watched as he was rescued
by Cassiopeia who took the water containers out from under his arm, took
the cup out of his hand and finally removed the pastry from his mouth.
She then neatly piled his supplies into one of the small boxes set on the
table for that purpose. He grinned his thanks at her as he pick up his
steaming cup and took a gulp. Instantly he spat it out as he stuck out
his tongue and ineffectually fanned it.
     Calmly Cassie handed him a cup of water and forced him into a chair.
Sheba could hear her admonishing him as she approached.
     "What were you thinking? I just told you it was very hot. What part
of 'very hot' did you not understand?"
     Finished with the cup of water she had given him, he frantically
looked around for something else to quench the fire in his sore mouth.
"thy thus thirsty." he mumbled around his tongue, which didn't seem to
want to go back into his mouth. "tith hurth."
     "Stop talking a minute so I can take care of that." Cassie was
trying to get him to look up at her. "Hold still!" She commanded as she
grabbed his errant head with both hands. Once she got his head stopped
she began to put a cooling spray on his reddened tongue. Sheba giggled
from behind Cassie, as Huron sagged into the chair audibly sighing with
relief.
     "I've got tired fools all over this bay," Cassie said by way of
greeting as she stood up "and now you're giggling?" She put her spray
away and looked, astonished, at Sheba.
     Sheba smiled at her. "Just tired I guess."
     Nodding her head in agreement, Cassiopeia asked, "So, what can I do
for you?"
     "Well, actually I came over for Huron's help," Sheba replied
     All of a sudden Cassiopeia grabbed at the cup that Huron had
retrieved and took it from his hand before they had a repeat of his
performance. "And you," she addressed Huron as she placed the cup out of
his reach, "should take a rest period. "
     "I don't have time for that." He waved her off as he snatched up his
pastry and stuffing it whole into his mouth, started to leave.
     "Oh! Wait, Huron," Sheba called out to him but he seemed to ignore
her. Giving Cassiopeia helpless shrug she hastily chased after him. She
caught up to him at one of the few functioning lifts in the bay. "The
floor lever to the shuttle staging doors is jammed. I wanted to know if
you could get under the decking and check it out?"
     "Sorry, not now. I've got to get this to Wilker's lab," he said as
he brandished his odd piece of metal in front of her.
     Sheba again noticed the odd metal fragment. She noticed this time
that it wasn't two colors but rather two types of metal. There was a
large black almost rectangular section and on it were a number of
metallic gray circuits like objects. "What is it?"
     "I have no idea," he said getting into the lift.
     "What do you mean you have no idea?" Sheba called out as the lift
started up. Impulsively she jumped up onto the lift.
     "And Cassiopeia thinks I'm the one who needs a rest period? You're
crazy, lady," he looked at her in astonishment.
     Ignoring his comments Sheba pointed at the fragment. "What do you
mean, you don't know what it is? I've seen you identify scorch fragments
with out a second look." Clearly Sheba was intrigued.
     "Just what I said. Burton said they found it in one of the impact
sites. But this -" He looked back at the fragment and ran his free hand
over it as if touch could provide answers, " - isn't ours and it isn't
Cylon or at least not any Cylon technology we've encountered before." The
lift stopped and the doors opened but as he started to get off he turned
back to Sheba a worried look on his face. "Look, I guess Cassiopeia was
right I am tired, I'm not supposed to talk to anyone about this." He
looked pleadingly at her. "Don't mention this to anyone, please."
     "But, this could be..."Sheba started but Huron held up his hand to
silence her.
     "This could be nothing. Look, I can't afford to get Engineer Barton
on my case again." He turned his upheld hand sidewise and offered a
handclasp to her. "You do this for me and I'll owe you one."
     Reluctantly, Sheba clasped his arm, "Okay." He was an all right kid
and she knew Barton had been hounding him hard lately, but as he turned
to leave she called out, "I want to know what they find out about that."
     Half way down the corridor, he turned to her with a look of
confusion. "About what?" Then grinning at the expression on her face, he
turned and continued down the corridor.
     "What was that all about?" Athena, who had walked up to the lift in
time to hear Sheba's reply, asked as she approached the lift.
     "Nothing I guess," Sheba replied and crossed her arms, annoyed.
Athena got into the lift and gave her an inquiring look. Sheba uncrossed
her arms and simply said, "Men."
     Athena nodded her head in womanly understanding and they traveled
the lift in silence.

------------

     Shadrick placed his pressure suit helmet down on the console of the
small anti chamber off of the main bridge. It was one of only two side
computer rooms that had retained their air seals and had been taken over
by the repair teams as they worked to fix the damaged to the main bridge.
     As Shadrick sat down, he brought up a graphic of the Galactica on
the screen before him. A port view of the Galactica was displayed with a
cutaway enlargement of the landing bay's damaged forward section. More
comfortable with the voice interface of his own computer in engineering,
Shadrick awkwardly typed into the keypad of the computer station before
him. The graphic on the screen rotated up and around, in the three
dimensional space of the computer program, settling on a view of the
Galactica from above.
     Several thick lines were now overlaid over the Galactica's image.
"This is the Galactica's keel, her main support framework, where all of
her decking and support struts are anchored.
     Apollo looked at the image on the screen. The Galactica's outline
surrounded the smaller details showing her decks and passages.
Superimposed over this was the structure Shadrick had just brought up.
Apollo watched as Shadrick enter some more data on the keypad and 4 blips
on the graphic began to blinked red. "Here's our problem."
     "Looks more like problems," Omega countered.
     "True," Shadrick agreed. "The keel fracture is at the junction
between Alpha and Beta sections and is our worst problem. Our main
maneuvering thrusters straddle it. If we try to make a directional change
the opposing forces generated by the thrusters could literally pull her
apart here." Shadrick pointed to the junction connecting the front Alpha
section to the main Beta section of the Galactica.
     "What are these other problems?" Apollo asked pointing at the three
remaining blips on the screen.
     "Those, along with the keel fracture are our most serious repair
problems right now," Shadrick stated. "This one at the middle pylon
connecting Beta section to the port landing bay -," and he pointed to the
middle connecting section near where it connected to the landing bay, "-
is the cause of several air seal leaks. When the Cylon Raider impacted,
the blast twisted the structure just enough to break her air seal all
along the connection to the bay. The structure itself needs to be shifted
back to its original position.
     Now Shadrick rotated the image of the Galactica again until the view
was from below. "This has also affected the landing bay connector," and
he pointed at the long structure that ran under the Galactica directly
connecting her two landing bays. "The air seals have started to fail
starting from the port bay and traveling back toward the starboard bay as
the pressures change. The corridor passages leading from the bay
connector to the Galactica have been sealed off and the same to the two
bays' connection passages. The air seals that are still intact are
starting to fail as the stress point moves."
     "These two - " and the image rotated again returning to the top
view. "Alpha landing bay's forward shuttle staging area and Beta landing
Bay's aft Viper launch tubes were also damaged by Cylon suicide hits. The
bays structure appears stable around the damaged areas and we should be
able to make repairs but, until we can, we'll need to move the Vipers and
shuttles staged in those areas."
     "OK what do you need to stabilize your first problem, the keel
fracture?" Apollo asked as he pointed to the blip that represented the
worst problem.
     "Structure plates to be honest." Shadrick closed his eyes and rubbed
the spot on either side of his nose between his eyes "And before you ask,
no we don't have any. What structural metal we had on the Galactica has
long since been scavenged to keep the other ships in our fleet going."
With a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes and looked up at the two men
staring at him. His news was not good and he'd giving himself a terrible
headache trying to find some answers to his problems. He now hoped they
could come up with other possibilities that might lead to the solutions
that eluded him.
     "Every battlestar carries her own replacement parts and patches in
her lower decks. You're telling me they're all empty?" Apollo couldn't
believe what he heard. He remembered having to catalog every spare part
in those storage areas not long before the destruction. He couldn't
remember exactly what they'd done to deserve the punishment but he was
fairly sure it was Starbuck's fault. It had taken them days to finish
that assignment.
     "We've even started to cannibalize some of her lower storage areas.
We've removed just about all of the struts separating the storage rooms
there. Instead of several storage rooms in Beta section we now have one
very large storage area."
     Apollo frowned and turned away from the console. "Any ideas on what
we'll use now?"
     "Even if we cannibalize the rest of the storage areas it wouldn't do
us any good. It's the wrong type of metal and there's not enough of
it,even if we were to try," Shadrick stated wearily.
     "What about the other ships?" asked Omega.
     Shadrick shook his head at Omega. "We've been using the Galactica's
supply trying to hold them together. There isn't much out there to take."
     "What about the Scarab or Crystal?" Omega persisted.
     "You can't take anything away from either of them.." Shadrick looked
over at Omega surprised. "Heck they have half the Galactica spare parts
as it is!"
     "That's what I mean. Why don't we take them back?" Omega continued.
     "Take them back?" Apollo asked confused, he couldn't see where Omega
was going with this.
     "Son, if we do that those ships will not be space worthy. They're
barely being held together as it is." Shadrick was taken aback by such a
suggestion.
     "Exactly!" said Omega, and at Apollo's and Shadrick's confused looks
he continued, "Look, both those ships have been falling apart since the
beginning. They're the slowest ships in our fleet, at least 4 levels
slower than the next ships. They're more of a liability than they're
worth."
     "But, what would you do with the people?" asked Shadrick.
     "Well, the Galactica's repair storage areas are empty now. Why not
put them there?" Omega suggested.
     "You're crazy, son, you can't put people down there!" Shadrick was
truly astonished at such a thought.
     "Why not?" said Apollo, cutting off Shadrick. "You're right, Omega,
we could use the metal and parts as well as permitting the fleet to move
faster."
     "You're forgetting that the Galactica's lower storage areas are not
set up with thermal registers. The temperature down there is not
conducive to keeping a group of civilians from freezing," Shadrick
pointed out.
     "Can't you set up a heating system down there?" asked Omega.
     "Of course I can but it will take time," Shadrick stated. "Time that
would be better spent on repairs."
     "What about something temporary until we have the time to set up
something more permanent?" Apollo suggested as he leaned back against the
console.
     "I don't know, perhaps we could set up some portable heaters."
Shadrick paused as he did some mental calculation, then turned to the
computer console to verify his facts. "It might be do-able. How many
people are we talking about?"
     "I don't know. Omega?" Apollo looked over at Omega.
     Turning in his chair Omega activated the computer station before him
and punched up the data on the two ships. "At the last census the Scarab
reported 94, and the Crystal listed 132."
     "226, huh?" Shadrick mumbled as he pulled up further data on the
station before him. "According to the supply list, we might just have
enough portable heating devices to pull it off but, those devices won't
last all that long with constant usage."
     "They won't have to," Apollo responded. "They'll just need to hold
out long enough for your teams to set up a permanent system."
     "Well let's see. If we can salvage enough structural metal to shore
up the keel fracture and the landing bay connector then we should be able
to repair the launch tubes - providing the heaters hold out." Shadrick
looked over at Apollo. "I admit it could work." He then looked up at the
ceiling as he reprioritized his repairs in his head. "You know, I could
salvage and use those ship's heating systems. That would save quite a lot
of time and effort. I could also use their main drives to fix the
Solestia's engines, not to mention a dozen other repairs that the fleet
needs." Shadrick looked back at them with a sparkly in his eyes as he now
saw solutions to several of his ongoing problems.
     "Then that's our plan!" Apollo said with finality as he pushed
himself away from the console.
     Shadrick held up a hand forestalling Apollo. "I grant you it's as
good a plan as any considering what we have to work with but Apollo, we
should try to consider all alternatives. The Council won't easily give up
two fleet ships, even these two, without coming up with several
suggestions of their own on the matter.
     "To frack with the Council!" Apollo swore. "We don't have time for
them to set up a committee on this. That Cylon attack force won't stay
away for long. We have to be out of this sector before their
reinforcements arrive. We just can't wait!" Apollo turned and looked at
the repair list that had been posted on the far wall by the repair techs.
"We have to get the Galactica and the fleet out of this sector as soon as
possible." His mind made up he turned back to Shadrick. "Get your crews
ready. Omega get me the captains of the Scarab and Crystal on line.
There's no time to wait."
     "O.K. Apollo, you're calling the shots for now." Shadrick conceded
the argument and stood up. "I'll get my crews ready and let you know, as
soon as I can, how long it will take us to get started."
     "Good." Apollo clouted the chief engineering on the shoulder
"Thanks, Shadrick".
     "Don't thank me yet. This plan still has to work." With that
Shadrick picked up his helmet and left the small room.
     Omega swivelled around in his chair and faced Apollo. "What about
the Council?" he asked.
     "Don't worry about them," Apollo said, as he pulled out the chair
and sat down at the computer station. "I'll deal with them later when
there's time."
     "If they give you time," Omega stated as he started to open a
communication link with the Crystal.
     "I'll take it whether they give it to me or not, It's time they
figured out I'm not my father. I don't do politics."
     It doesn't read as anything special," junior tech Petran said as he
passed a hand-held scanner over the fragment that now lay on the
examination table of the large high-powered scope.
.    "I know," replied Huron "but I'm telling you this is like nothing
the Cylons have used before."
     "So they're using a different manufacturing process. I don't see
what all the fuss is about." The junior tech shrugged his shoulders and
set the scanner down.
     "Are you so blind to what's in front of you, Petran!" Huron snapped,
irritated at the tech's manner. Petran was a sore spot for Huron. He had
been given the post of junior assistant tech to Wilker's labs before the
position had even been posted; a position Huron would have given his two
eyeteeth for; a position he had not even been given a chance at. It
wasn't fair and Huron resented Petran his position. It also hadn't helped
Huron's feeling any to realize how much more he knew than Petran did.
     "Okay that's enough!" Dr Wilker's normally tenor voice dropped an
octave as he looked up from the main viewer of the scope and chastised
the two combatants. "Huron, I know this is a unique sample and Petran,
you will learn that just because something isn't made up of a new unknown
type of metal, doesn't mean it can't be new and different. Considering
what we are looking for, we'd be fools not to investigate any usual find
and this is definitely unusual." Walker peered again through the eyepiece
of the scope he had been using before he was interrupted.
     "Amazing! This sample has been fused with hundreds of circuits." He
changed the focal length of his lens and the image he was looking at,
also projected onto the wall monitor, changed. "All the external
circuitry that you can see is interconnected throughout the metal
fragment It's as if the fragment is a kind of giant circuit board."
     "What do you think it does?" Huron asked
     "I have no idea. This is only a small fragment of an obviously
larger combination of circuitry." The doctor sat back and look up from
the scope. "Yes, Huron I think you many have found a bit of new Cylon
technology, but what it did we may never know unless we can find a larger
section of it."
     "I doubt we'll find anymore considering the damage it did but I'll
let the crews know what to look for"
     Wilker motioned to his senior assistant who had been watching the
wall monitor intently. "Jamison, let's hook this up to a power source and
see what, if anything, these circuits will do."
     Turning around Wilker noticed Petran, still standing near the
fragment, glaring sidelong at Huron, who for his part was doing his best
to pretend Petran didn't exist. Inwardly he sighed. He could see the
animosity growing between the two techs. Wilker sighed again. Petran
would make a good repair tech but he didn't have the creative aptitude
needed for the more unconventional projects that Wilker's labs routinely
worked on. Huron on the other hand, had a massively creative mind and
would have been an asset to Wilker's team if he'd been given permission
to apprentice the bright tech. But, he lost the chance. Petran had been
forced on Wilker in a deal he made with the Council. Wilker was granted
permission to conduct experiments on an active captured Cylon centurion
in return for apprenticing Councillor Yogan's son. The problem was
Petran just didn't have what it took for the position and Huron did -
and Petran knew it. Wilker's deal was becoming a hard price to pay.
"Petran why don't you finish the repair on the oscillator Salik brought
in."
     "Why can't I work on this with you and Jamison? I am capable!"
     "Petran, I will not get into this discussion with you again. When I
took you on as an junior assistant I told you that I would chose the
assignments for you to work on, not you. Now, Salik needs that oscillator
and Life Center 's equipment is just as important as this. More so
really, especially if this provides to be useless to us."
     Petran reluctantly headed for the door but paused and looked back at
Wilker "I wonder if repairing broken medical equipment was what my father
had in mind when he assigned me here?" Then before Wilker could respond
he turned and left.
     "I wonder if his father knew what a pain in the astrum his son was
when he "assigned" him here, far away from himself," Jamison stated in
his calm unconcerned way.
     Wilker who was still standing shocked at the implied threat from
'his' assistant turned toward Jamison. As what his senior assistant said
sunk in Wilker let out his anger and sighed. "Yes, I think he did. I
wonder what I ever did to that particular Councillor to earn his wrath?"
     "What are you two talking about?" Huron asked, confused and angered
at Petran's manner and their lack of response to it.
     Chuckling to himself now Wilker waved his hand dismissing Petran.
"Nothing, nothing. While you're here, Huron, why don't you help Jamison
and me with your discovery."
     Jamison carefully hooked up two electrodes to opposite ends of the
fragment then stood back. "Ready?" he asked. Wilker made some final
adjustments on his scope then nodded his head at Jamison to activate the
electrodes. At first there was no response but as Jamison slowly turned
up the power they all began to feel a pressure behind their ears and soon
a rattling sound came from the fragments. Wilker peered closer at the
piece through the scope. He quickly realized that the piece was moving,
vibrating with increasing velocity as the power was turned up.
     "Hold it here Jamison and hand me a scanner." The pressure behind
his ears was becoming very uncomfortable as Wilker passed the hand held
scanner across the fragment. The scanner's power levels fluctuated and
Wilker absently reminded himself to chastise Petran for not retuning it
to its recharger. As he scanned the fragment he noted that the readings
did not appear to have changed from his previous scans.
     "Turn it up a bit more Jamison." When the power went up Wilker
dropped the scanner he held and grabbed at his head as the pressure
behind his ears violently turned into a sharp stabbing pain. The fragment
skittered across the table as if alive and flew off the edge pulling
loose from the electrodes and hit the floor with a loud clatter.

------------

     "What was that?" Petran cried out as he ran back into the room. All
three of the occupants were holding a hand to their heads. Wilker was on
his knees on the floor, Jamison was standing unsteadily near the main
monitor and Huron was pushing himself away from the wall. "Hey, are you
all alright?" Petran went over to Wilker and helped him up and into a
chair.
     "Thank you, Petran." Wilker was surprised at the concern he saw on
the face before him. "I think we were lucky you used short cords on those
electrodes, Jamison."
     "Very lucky I'd say." Jamison gratefully sank into a chair. "A few
more centons of that and I think I would have passed out."
     "I'm sure I would have," Huron murmured as he shakily walked over to
the fragment that now lay motionless on the floor. He grabbed at the
table and noted that his equilibrium seemed to have deserted him.
     "What happened?" asked Petran, his dislike of Huron momentarily gone
as he pulled out a third chair and mentioned to Huron to sit.
     Nodding his thanks Huron sat. "I think it was the sound waves."
     "It wasn't making any audible noise..." Wilker started.
     "They were ultrasonic," Huron interrupted.
     "Iit was vibrating on the table." Wilker bent over to pick up his
dropped scanner then though better of it as a wave of dizziness washed
over him. "Jamison, did the main scanner get a reading before it pulled
itself free of the electrodes?"
     "Let me check," Jamison swiveled in his chair and punched up the
recorded images. "Yes. The main scanner was recording, though the scan
looks bad."
     "Bad scan?" Doctor Wilker placed his hand over his eyes in an
attempt to stop the room from spinning around him.
     "Yes, it's full of interference," Jamison replied as he tried to
clear up the scan.
     "Interference? Sound interference! That's how they did it." Huron
looked back at the fragment that now lay eerily quiet on the floor.
     Whirrrrr. Whirrrrrr.
     "Stop it."
     *SNAP*
     "Uuhrrrup. "
     "Stop it you frakin daggit!"
     *SNAP*
     "Boxey! We don't use language like that here."
     "Yes, auntie Athena."
     Athena put down the toys she was picking up and walked over to sit
in the chair next to Boxey. He didn't look up but continued to stare at
the pile of broken color drawing sticks that were piled into a small
mound on the table before him, deliberately ignoring Muffet. "What's
wrong?" she asked "Don't you want to play with Muffy?"
     "No." Boxey picked up another stick and snapped it in two. *SNAP*
     Athena moved the few remaining sticks away from Boxey's destructive
grasp. "Why not?"
     "I just don't!" With a rush of anger Boxey jumped up from his chair
and marched across the room over to the vidscreen and turned it on.
     Athena frowned and followed him dismayed at his mood. "Boxey, do you
want to talk about it?" she asked gently. She'd been busy all afternoon
with her hands full, watching and supervising the Youth Center's kids,
and she hadn't noticed until now how quiet the normally rambunctious
Boxey had been.
     "No." He crossed his arms across his chest as he flung himself down
to sit on the couch, staring stubbornly at the vidscreen,giving a clear
indication that he was upset and didn't want to talk about it. Not a
situation Athena thought should be left alone.
     Moving over to the couch she sat quietly next to her nephew and
watched him for a few centons. Athena knew Boxey had been having a hard
time with his grandfather's death. He had unexpectedly thrown quite a
tantrum the night they'd told him about Adama's death and poor Apollo had
been completely unprepared for it. Boxey had been through so much, and
they'd been so lucky that he'd managed to coped so well with it all, that
when he didn't, they were at a loss at how to handle it. Then, today,
when Athena had arrived at the Youth Center, and Boxey appeared to be
doing just fine, she'd let herself think that he was over the worst of
it. She shook her head in reproach. How could she expect a small child to
be over it when she, an adult, was not? "I miss your grandfather too,"
she whispered finally.
     His eyes suspiciously sparkled with unshed tears, but he still
refused to look at anything but the vidscreen.
     "Don't you miss him too?" Athena asked gently trying to get past the
pain she could now see behind those all too bright eyes.
     "No." Boxey croaked out the one word response as a barely contained
sob.
     Athena was taken aback by his response. "Why Boxey?" she asked as
she leaned over to wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him close,
but he angrily pushed it off and moved farther down the couch. The angry
scowl on his small face would have been comical if the situation wasn't
so serious. Athena sat there unsure what to do but afraid to push him at
this point.
     Just then Sheba entered the Youth Center and spotted Athena.
"Athena? I didn't know you were Youth Protector today," she said as she
looked around the room. "I was looking for Cassiopeia."
     "She said she had some tests to run in Life Center so she asked me
to help out for a few hours today." Athena got up and walked over to
where Sheba stood by the door. "Rigel's in the video room with most of
the kids."
     "Oh, I was hoping to catch Cassiopeia and have a word with her."
Sheba looked around at the mess of toys and papers strewn across the
floor. There was no unruly herd of kids currently playing in the room but
she could hear the loud jabbering of kids talking over the sound of a
video in the next room. "I didn't think this was something you'd want to
volunteer for."
     "Oh, why not?" Athena asked as she walked over to the table " I love
kids." She began to pick up the broken color sticks then looked back over
at Boxey, a worried frown on her face. Straightening up she turned her
attention back to Sheba. "As a matter of fact I was one of the first
teachers when Kenton set up the learning center."
     "Really? I didn't know that. So why aren't you still teaching?"
Sheba asked curiously.
     "Well, there were others more qualified for the job than I and in
the end it was a bit much with my bridge duties. Besides, I needed the
extra time so I could get as much in-Viper flying time as I could." Sheba
nodded in understanding. Adama had tried to keep his only daughter safely
on the bridge. Subtly but not overtly stalling her attempts to remain an
active pilot, stating that they needed bridge officers as much as they
need pilots. Perversely Athena wondered what her father would have
thought of how ironic that situation had turned out.
     Looking past Athena, Sheba spotted Boxey and smiled. "Hi Boxey, how
are you doing?" she asked, but Boxey studiously ignored her. Sheba looked
inquiringly at Athena who motioned her back over to the door.
     "He's really upset today and won't talk to me about it."
     "Oh." Sheba looked back over at Boxey her concern evident as she
took in the crossed arms and angry face. "How did he take...Adama's
death?" she asked, and Athena didn't know if was emotion or sympathy that
caused her to hesitate.
     "About as well as the rest of us," Athena sighed then looked over at
Sheba and let how worried she truly was show through. "Worse actually,"
she confessed. "He refused to believe me when I told him. He kept yelling
at me that I was wrong, that the bridge was the safest place on the
Galactica and his dad would come and prove him right and me wrong."
Athena looked anxiously back over at Boxey. "It broke my heart to see the
look of betrayal Boxey gave Apollo when he showed up and had to tell him
it was true. Apollo's had a hard time with him ever since."
     "Really?" Sheba looked troubled. "I didn't know."
     "You didn't? But, I thought...." Athena began but Sheba cut her off
with a shake of her head. Now that was news to Athena. The last time she
had taken notice of her brother and Sheba, they were clearly an item. She
wondered what had happened and when?
     "No, not for a while." Sheba looked away obviously not wanting to
discuss the matter. "Do you mind if I try and talk to him?" She gestured
to Boxey.
     "No, please." Athena stepped aside and watched Sheba walked over to
where Boxey sat, arms no longer crossed but still obviously upset, as he
circumspectly watched Sheba approach. Athena decided to stay where she
was, not wanting to make Boxey feel like they were ganging up on him but
still close enough if needed.
     Sheba stopped and stood beside Boxey waiting for him to take notice
of her. When he refused to do so she knelt down before him. "Hi Boxey,
it's good to see you. I've missed you."
     "No you haven't," Boxey challenged back, staring straight ahead,
even though he could no longer see most of the vidscreen."
     "I haven't? Of course I have, why wouldn't I?" Sheba countered. She
was worried about this cold and almost hostile greeting.
     "You would have come to see me if you did," he answered as his anger
seemed to drain out of him. "But you didn't," he whispered softly,
bewildered and hurt. "You just stopped coming." Athena could barely hear
him now and she wondered how much this was hurting Sheba as her own tears
threatened. But, Boxey wasn't done with his mood swings for the day and
just as suddenly as his anger had left it returned in full force. Athena
cringed; the look he turned on Sheba was filled with resentment "I guess
I was just a silly little kid to think you cared about me."
     Sheba was obviously taken aback by this. Athena knew how much Sheba
cared for Boxey - loved him in fact. She had once described him to Athena
as a sometimes-annoying yet lovable little boy that she couldn't get out
of her system. It must have been very painful for her since well,
whatever had happened between Apollo and her. It was quite apparent it
had hurt Boxey too.
     "Oh Boxey, of course I care about you. I'll always care for you no
matter what." Sheba took his small hands in hers trying to get him to
look back at her. Athena could see the tears brimming in Sheba's eyes.
     "But, you stopped coming by. I figured you didn't care about us
anymore," he said his anger once again replaced by uncertainty.
     "I'm so sorry Boxey, it's all so complicated." Sheba squeezed his
hands as he looked doubtfully down at her "But, you're right, that's not
an excuse. I didn't mean to hurt you and of course I care. It's not like
I can stop caring for you like I would turn off a switch."
     "But you stopped caring for my dad."
     Sheba looked helplessly over at Athena, who was by no means any help
at all, as she raised her eyebrows, also awaiting Sheba's response.
     Sheba looked back at Boxey. "It's complicated with adults Boxey."
She gave his hands a gentle shake "But, I DO care for you and I have no
intention of stopping. I've missed you. How about I talk with your dad
about us spending some time together. OK?"
     "Then you still care about me?" he looked back at her uncertainly.
     "Yes, I do," Sheba said forcefully.
     "Then why don't you come by anymore?" Boxey asked.
     Sheba sighed and spoke very softly, "You'll have to ask your dad
that one."

------------

     Two sleek Vipers flew silently through the darkness of space rapidly
approaching a planetary system that stretched out before them. The light
from the systems sun was so dim at this distance that the ships' blood
red markings appeared gray.
     "Hey Boomer you awake over there?" Across the darkness of space
Starbuck could just make out the illuminated outline of Boomer's face as
he turned his head to glance over in his direction.
     "Yeah, I was just thinking," came the subdued response.
     "Hum, careful you might get into the habit," Starbuck replied
solemnly.
     "Huh, oh thanks!" Boomer grumbled, injured..
     "Anytime." Starbuck shot back, cheerfully.
     "Doesn't anything bother you when you're out here?" Boomer wondered
anew at Starbuck's never-ending optimism.
     "Lots of things but, I just don't given 'em a chance to ruin my
naturally charming disposition."
     Boomer could just imagine Starbuck tossing his head back, brushing
his hair out of his eyes and giving one of his devilish smiles as he
spoke. He snorted. "Uh huh. Seriously, it's a bit scary when you think
about our odds of survival out here."
     "I don't do *seriously*," Starbuck interjected "and I definitely
don't put it and *odds* in the same sentence!".
     "Yeah right, well...."
     "No, really Boomer." And now Boomer could hear the earnestness in
Starbuck's voice. "I've given up on doing the odds for this fleet. The
odds have been against us since day one of this nightmare and if I had
believed in those odds I would've given up sectars ago! But, this fleet
doesn't *do* odds. What this fleet does *do* is miracles! And yes, at
times it seems like it would take a miracle for us to survive. But then
again Boomer, that's what we do best."
     "You know you have a very unique perspective on things, Starbuck."
Boomer replied, his mood improved despite himself.
     "That's what they pay me for!" quipped Starbuck.
     *Beep* *Beep*
     Boomer could hear the alarm sounding in Starbuck's Viper a micron
before his own sounded.
     "Got something." Starbuck was all business now.
     "Yah, I got it too." Boomer watched his scanner try to lock on the
signal it had detected. It couldn't identify it. He switched the view
selector to directional mode and watched as the screen shifted to a view
showing the solar system before them, one sun and seven planets. Then, as
his systems tracked the source of the signal, the view changed again to
show the third planet with its five satellites.
     "It looks like it's just beyond the second moon of the third
planet," Starbuck said. "You wait here while I go in behind the planet
and take a closer look."
     "Be careful we don't want to be detected ourselves," Boomer
cautioned.
     "Careful is my middle name." Starbuck said as his Viper sped away
from Boomer's and headed toward the planet.

------------

     Athena put three fruit juices down on the table, "I think Cassiopeia
told me they were Kella flavor today."
     "I haven't had Kella fruit in so long I think I've forgotten what it
tastes like," Sheba exclaimed. "How about you, Boxey, do you like Kella
fruit?"
     Boxey shrugged his shoulders noncommittally as he punched his
drinking straw through the thin foil cover of the fruit juice container.
     "What is your favorite flavor then?" Athena asked as she watched
Sheba try unsuccessfully to punch her straw though the top of her fruit
container.
     "Frak, I can never do these things."
     "We aren't supposed to use that kind of language here," Boxey
replied with a sidelong glace at Athena.
     Athena had to stifle a laugh with a cough at Boxey's obvious attempt
at doing an impression of herself. She caught the mischief in that glance
and wondered anew at the rapid change in moods kids could have. "You're
right! What do you think we should do about it?" she asked him as her
eyes implored Sheba to go along. "Shall we have Sheba stand in the
corner?" she asked, but at Boxey's shrug, she tried harder. "Or maybe
make her write an apology on the wall board 10 times?"
     "Yeah, maybe," he said as he looked over at Sheba then back at
Athena. They both saw the mischievous spark that ignited in his eyes.
"Maybe we should...."And he dashed from the couch and grabbed up a small
canister from the floor.
     "Oh no!" Sheba got up holding her arms out before her and began
backing up. "No, that's not a good idea...." she began as Boxey let loose
and sprayed her with that childhood favorite and adult nightmare, Crazy
String. She felt it should have more correctly been called Staining
String and groaned loudly as she allowed herself to be pelted with the
rope-like, rubbery, colored strings. Boxey giggled maniacally as he
closed in for the kill, spraying the sticking stuff on Sheba's hair and
face. Athena was no help, as she laughed encouragingly from the safety of
the couch.
     "What's going on here?"
     They all froze guiltily and stared at the doorway where Apollo and
Cassiopeia stood quite stunned at the sight before them.
     "Boxey, how many times have I told you kids not to spray that stuff
on people's hair!" Cassiopeia admonished as she regained her senses.
     Apollo just stood inside the doorway and looked on in amazement at
all the strings clinging to Sheba and tried not to laugh.
     Cassiopeia quickly crossed the room and held out her hand to Boxey.
     "It's Sheba's punishment...." Boxey began as he reluctantly handed
over the offending weapon.
     "We were just having some fun," Athena interrupted.
     "No harm was done..." Sheba protested as she tugged at the stringy
mess in her hair.
     Boxey walked back to the couch, kicking at an errant toy on his way.
     Apollo's smile faded as he watched his son sulk to the couch and
plop himself down in front of the videscreen. "Boxey?" he called out
after him, only to have his son studiously ignore him. Apollo sighed
heavily and looked over at Athena. "How was he today?"
     "Quiet. I was so busy with the other kids I barely even noticed him
today. Then just a while ago I caught him swearing at Muffit. When I
asked him about it he got mad at me. Luckily, Sheba came along and
together we managed to improve his mood. As you can see, it was not
without some cost on Sheba's part."
     "Too bad it didn't last very long," Sheba pointed out.
     "Yeah." Apollo motioned to her yards of newly acquired strings.
"Thanks for your sacrifice. It looked like he was enjoying it."
     "He was." Sheba stopped tugging at the coating of strings and looked
up at Apollo "I was, too. I've really missed him." Sheba searched
Apollo's face for a moment then turned back toward Boxey. "He thinks I
stopped caring for him simply because I haven't been around. He's wrong."
Sheba looked back at Apollo, who was staring at her, his expression
unreadable. "I'd like to spend some time with him occasionally, so he
doesn't forget that." Sheba paused then asked " Is that alright with
you?"
     Apollo didn't say anything at first. He just stared at Sheba with a
unreadable expression. "Sure," was all he finally said.
     Athena watched the interchange between the two and didn't know if
she dared breathe, lest she break the moment. Sheba had clearly indicated
that she and Apollo were estranged; yet the atmosphere around the two
fairly shimmered with desire. Athena was dying to know what was going on.
     Then the moment was lost, and Apollo turned away.
     Sheba walked over to Cassiopeia as Apollo went to stand next to
Boxey.
     "Boxey?"
     Boxey sat rigid, his eyes fixed on the screen before him, stubbornly
refusing to acknowledge his father.
     Apprehensive, Apollo sat down next to Boxey. His voice filled with
emotion as he softly whispered, "Boxey, please look at me."
     "No," came the stubborn reply.
     "Please?" Apollo was trying to keep his emotions under control. He
didn't think he could go through another scene like last night with Boxey
shouting that he hated him.
     "I don't wanta." Once again he crossed his arms across his chest,
determined to be angry.
     "Why not?" Apollo coaxed. Apollo knew Boxey was angry with him for
breaking his faith by telling him his grandfather was gone. Apollo could
still remember that look Boxey had given him. It was as if he'd
extinguished something inside him. Apollo had always been amazed and
thankful for Boxey's resilience to all that had happened; the destruction
exploding around him, the lost of his dagget and then the terrible loss
of his mother. Yet, he had gone through it all and still retained that
spark of innocent hope that things would still be alright in the end. It
was that spark that Apollo feared he had extinguished, along with his
son's trust in him.
     "Because."
     "Are you mad at me?"
     "I guess," came the uncertain answer.
     "Oh," was all Apollo could say for a few moments. He desperately
looked around the room as if looking for something that could help him
solve his problem. His mind searched for a way to get past Boxey's anger.
His gaze passed over Sheba as she talked to Cassiopeia on the other side
of the room. He smiled slowly. If Sheba had seen it she'd have been
better prepared.
     "Sheba, could you come over here?" he called out to her.
     Sheba looked over and saw him bend down, then stand up and gesture
for her to join him by the couch. As she approached she noticed Boxey
looking worriedly from one adult to the other. Once she was there, Apollo
turned back toward Boxey.
     "You know, Boxey, it's not right to spray this stuff in other
people's hair," Apollo said in his most official "Captain" voice. Boxey
looked guiltily up at Apollo then over to Sheba. His anger was gone in a
moment of panic as he sensed a disciplinary storm coming.
     Ignoring the panicked look on his son's face, Apollo continued, "If
you're going to shoot someone, the proper place is between the eyes." And
before Sheba could react, Apollo aimed the can he'd retrieved from the
floor at her head and set words into action as he shot her, right between
the eyes, with strings.
     Ignoring her started protests, Apollo then turned his weapon on
Boxey. Boxey's jaw dropped and he looked up at his father, stunned.
Surely his dad didn't just do that? As Apollo turned the can toward him,
Boxey let out a squeal as he ducked the first shot and propelled himself
off the couch, giggling as he ran across the room. He grabbed up his
confiscated can from the shelf where Cassiopeia had put it and turned to
return fire, only to find Apollo was already on him. They faced off and
splattered each other with yards and yards of colored sticky stings,
howling in sheer joy. Laughing, both stood there admiring each other's
new coating of strings, when Apollo grinned at Boxey and purposefully
looked back over his shoulder at Sheba.
     Sheba's eyes went wide as she feebly placed her hands before her to
ward off the attack, but it was too late, as two cans of strings pelted
her, plastering her uniform with a new coating of strings. Once Boxey's
can was empty, he launched himself at his dad, tumbling him into Sheba,
and they all went crashing to the ground in a heap of giggling, laughing
strings.
     Boxey climbed up on Apollo's back, giggling with delight as he
proclaimed himself king of the daggit pile with whoops of laughter.
Apollo laughingly looked down at Sheba, who lay beneath him shaking,
helpless with her own laughter. She looked up at him, and her smile froze
on her face as his gaze turned from humorous to something else. She just
stared at him like a forest antelope caught in a hovercraft's lights. For
a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her but then Boxey tumbled off
Apollo, accidentally kicking him in the side, breaking the spell.
     Apollo quickly rolled off of Sheba and got to his feet, stripping
off the strings as he went. Hastily, he turned back to offer her a hand
up, but she was already on her knees and didn't take the offered hand as
she rose to her feet.
     Athena, who was now standing next to Cassie, noticed the exchange.
As Sheba turned away and began removing the strings from her hair, Athena
watched Apollo. His gaze fairly devoured Sheba but as soon as she turned
back, he looked away.
     "What's with that?" she quietly murmured.
     "I wish I knew" Cassiopeia responded.
     Athena looked over at Cassiopeia to inquire about what she might
know about the situation when the alert sounded.
     Apollo and Sheba reacted immediately as they both bolted for the
door, but the sudden scream from Boxey stopped them in their tracks.
     "NO! Don't go!" Boxey lunged forward. Apollo barely managed to catch
him as he leaped up and clasped his arms around Apollo's neck, holding on
for all he was worth. "Don't go. Don't go. Please, Dad, don't go!" .
     Apollo was shaken by the sudden emotional outburst. Never had Boxey
acted like this before. Apollo was at a loss on how to deal with this new
disturbing aspect of his son. "Boxey, I have to. I don't have a choice.
You know that," he said trying to sooth his son, yet gently pry his arms
from around his neck. Once freed, Apollo held Boxey's hands in his and
looked into his son's terrified eyes. "Boxey, I'm a Warrior," he started,
then stopped and tried another approach. "I'm not leaving the Galactica.
I'll just be on the bridge..."
     "I know, I don't want you to go there," Boxey whispered, his fear
still very evident.
     Apollo understood, and he hated himself for what he had to do, but
he didn't have the time they needed to discuss this. "I know you don't,
but I have to go." Apollo lifted up Boxey, handed him over to Cassiopeia
and turned and left. He tried not to listen to Boxey call out after him
as the door closed behind him.

------------

     "What is it?" Apollo asked Omega as he came up behind him.
     "We're getting a partially jammed transmission from one of our
patrols, " Omega answered, his voice calm as ever. Apollo wondered if
anything would jar that calm while Omega was on duty.
     "Let's hear it"
     ".......Patrol 1 to Gal..tica.......detected........third
moon.......lon......"
     Apollo instantly recognized the voice - Starbuck! There was no
emotion in the static filled transmission, but Apollo had been Starbuck's
wingman long enough to hear the concern in his voice, and a concerned
Starbuck was a Starbuck in trouble.
     "That's it. The rest is just static," Omega said as he stopped the
playback and turned around to look at Apollo. "Possibly the transmission
is just being affected by the nebula Patrol 3 discovered and not actually
jammed. It was giving off tremendous radiation bursts."
     Apollo gave Omega a knowing look "You don't believe that anymore
than I do," he said. "Launch Blue and Green squadrons to check it out."
Apollo had to fight down the suffocating anxiety as he ordered others out
to do what he desperately wanted to do himself - help Starbuck. "What
sector were they patrolling?"
     Omega walked over to the large star chart behind the bridge's main
station. He pointed to a system in the upper right of the chart. "They're
checking out a planetary system in quadrant Gamma delta 4, by Beta 3,
delta 2."
     "It sounds like they may have found our missing basestar," Apollo
said as he looked over the chart, noting the distance of the system to
the fleet. Most definitely close enough to be the basestar that had
launch the attack on them. Far enough away to avoid detection and attack
but close enough to keep and eye on them. "What's the status of our
maneuvering thrusters?"
     "Still off line while under repair," Omega replied.
     "Get me Shadrick. We're a sitting target if we can't maneuver!"
     Starbuck rolled his Viper to the right just as a laser bolt shot
past his fighter a mere micrometron from his cockpit. "I don't know if
they got my message or not, Boomer. That baseship is sending up quit a
lot of jamming."
     "You call this careful? You need to change you middle name." Boomer
cried out as he turned his Viper in a reverse roll from Starbuck's. "How
many Raiders do you count on our tail?"
     Starbuck checked his rear scanner. The green light from the scanner
flashed across his face as he spotted five targets trailing them. "Five"
     "Five? That's unusual, they usually travel in packs of three. You
sure?
     "Hey, check your own scanner if you don't believe me!" came
Starbuck's irritated response. He was having trouble shaking the ones
following him. "Boomer, these guys just won't give up!"
     "Hang on Bucko, I've almost completed my loop. How many party
crashers do you have?" Boomer double-checked his rear scanner before
adding. "I've got two on my tail."
     "I've got three," Starbuck responded. They'd done this maneuver
millions of times; head straight for each other and then at the last
micron do a snap roll, bringing the pursuing Cylons into each other's
line of fire. Each time they did this maneuver, the Cylons fell for it.
Each time he prayed they always would.
     As Starbuck came around, he could see Boomer heading his way and
checked his scanner, noting the two Raiders tailing Boomer. Normally,
since Cylons flew in a pattern of three ships, Starbuck would target the
ship in the middle, destroy it and fly through the debris. Then he'd try
to blast one of the two remaining ships before they could fly past him.
Since there were only two Raiders following Boomer, he decided to just
fly right between them, trying to destroy both of them before they could
fly past him.
     The two Vipers approached each other head on, then when they reached
the predetermined distance they both rolled in unison, flashing their
undersides past each other.
     "FRAK!" came Starbucks sudden cry of alarm. It reverberated though
the com channel along with the sound of scrapping, straining metal.
     "Starbuck!" Boomer cried out in alarm as the Raider he held in his
sights disappeared into oblivion. Holding down the firing button as he
turned his Viper in a wide arch, Boomer crossed the path of a second
Raider as it flew past him. A shower of sparks and flames enveloped his
ship as he flew through the debris.
     "Starbuck, are you alright?" he shouted.
     "Yah, I think so," came Starbuck's shaky response. "Frak, I hit
something! The scanner didn't show anything - my path should have been
clear!"
     "What was it?" Boomer asked, relieved.
     "I don't know! Black! It was black, that's all I saw before it
scraped along my side! I barely managed not to smash right into it!"
Starbuck cried out.
     "Where did it go?"
     "How the Frak should I know! It's not on my scanner! It wasn't
before and it isn't now!" Starbuck was shouting in frustration and shock.
What the frak was that! And the vibrations - his whole Viper had shook
like it was electrified. His ears were still hurting from the massive
pressure that had assaulted him. He was shaking with reaction and
adrenaline as he angrily brushed at the sweat that was running down the
side of his jaw.
     "It must be the jamming from the Baseship. I know I only scanned
two." Boomer answered.
     "Well there were most definitely three!" Starbuck shouted as he hit
his fire control and blew another Raider into sparkling dust. "That's no
simple jamming, Boomer. How many do you still show on your scanner?"
     "Two."
     "That's what I'm reading too, but I know there are at least three
out there." He paused as he again checked his scanner, "Boomer, we've got
some kind of Dark Helix out here."
     Dark Helix? The thought set the hairs on Boomer's neck on end. A
ghost, a phantom, the shadowy figure of a hundred haunted space stories.
Appearing only to lure wayward ships into mortal danger. But, unlike the
haunted space tales of old freighter pilots, this one apparently had
substance. Quite a bit of substance, he realized, as he got a glimpse of
Starbuck's starboard side.
     "Hey Bucko, is your starboard gun still functional? It looks like it
took off half your wing off."
     "It did and, no, it's not!" Starbuck was adjusting his scanner,
looking for a frequency that could lock onto this 'ghost' ship, when he
noticed the red smudges he was leaving on the controls. Perplexed, he
pulled back his hand turning it over to look at his palm. It was covered
in blood. He felt another drip of warm liquid run down his jaw and neck
and brushed at it with his other hand, then pulled it back and looked at
it. It, too, was now covered in red blood. Cautiously, he reached up and
followed the wet path from his jaw up to his left ear. It was only then
that he realize that he was only hearing with his right ear. He placed a
hand to his right ear, pressing it closed, to listen with the left - but
there was nothing. He could hear no sounds from his left ear. 'I don't
have time for this now!' he thought as he wiped his hands on his pant
leg.
     "Starbuck, how's your maneuverability, we can....." Boomer statement
was cut off as one of the remaining Raiders came at him, firing from
below. He hit his reverse thrusters, allowing the Raider to fly up in
front of him, then took aim and fired. Suddenly, his Viper jarred
sideways as a laser blast impacted on his shielding. He began to spin,
his shot going wild, missing the Raider. "Frak, where did that blast come
from?"
     "I've got him." Starbuck answered. He was focused on the dark spot
where he'd seen the laser blast come from. The dark shape turned, it's
black wings spread wide, coming back around for another attempt. "Look
out, Boomer! He's below you on your port side! He's coming around for
another shot!"
     "I don't make 'em!"
     "I can see him, Boomer. Roll toward him, let him overshoot you."
     "Where, Starbuck!"
     "Left, turn left, Boomer!" As Boomer's Viper rolled over and past
the flight path of the darkened shape, Starbuck took aim, and fired. His
shot flew past the dark shape, missing it. "Frak!" It'd been a long time
since Starbuck had tried to hit anything without his scanner lock. "Keep
it busy, Boomer, so I can get in closer. I can't hit it from this
distance."
     "Keep it busy?" Boomer's exclaimed. His Viper rocked to the side as
he barely missed another round of laser bolts. "Starbuck, I don't know
how long I can keep this guy busy before he gets a direct hit. My
shielding held out the first time, but I don't want to put it to the test
again. Get this guy, already!"
     "The scanner lock is no use. I'm going to have to line him up
visually. I need you to roll into a dive, to bring him in front of me.
And, Boomer, you'll have to bring him in close."
     "If I get too close he could just as easily shoot you as me!" Boomer
objected.
     "We've got to take that risk. This ship isn't all that easy to spot.
It appears to be Raider of some kind but it's been blacked out. I'm
barely able to visually follow its outline. If I loose track of him, I
don't know if we'll see him again before he gets a shot off at us."
     "Where's the other ship?"
     "You're going to have to tell me. I'm afraid if I take my eyes of
him even for a micron, I'll lose sight of this 'Dark Raider.' "
     As Boomer turned, diving up toward Starbuck's Viper, he checked his
scanner. It still could not detect the Dark Raider following him but the
scanner did have a lock on the Raider approaching Starbuck from behind.
"If I can trust my scanner, the second ship is coming up behind you, on
your six." Starbuck's Viper did not move but remained stationary. "You
need to get out of its way, Starbuck."
     "After you finish your dive, Boomer. My Viper's not maneuverable
enough right now to turn back in time."
     "Frak, Starbuck, this is going to be close!" Boomer cursed as he
raced upward. He could see the other ship closing in on Starbuck.
     "Good! The closer the better." Starbuck responded as his eyes
tracked this new Dark Raider.
     The Dark Raider fired again as the two ships raced toward Starbuck's
position. Boomer couldn't turn aside or Starbuck would lose his shot, so
instead, he put his Viper into a spin hoping it would miss him.
     Boomer's Viper shot up past Starbuck's motionless Viper. Once past,
Boomer pulled the nose of his Viper up into as sharp a turn as he could
force out of his fighter. All motion seemed to slow to a crawl as the
G-forces mounted and the pressure on Boomers body increased. His field of
vision diminished as his peripheral vision faded out. His sight reducing
itself to a small round area before him, the black edges creeping in.
Then the emergency override kicked in, switching off the onboard gravity.
In a flash, everything snapped back into real time. Floating free of the
oppressive gravity, held in place by his harness, Boomer lined up the
Raider coming up behind Starbuck's damager Viper and fired.
     The flash of the explosion was reflected briefly on the inside of
Starbuck's canopy as he watched the Dark Raider shoot up before him, hot
on Boomer's tail, and soar right into his line of fire.
     "Gotcha!" Starbuck called out as he fired his one remaining laser
gun, hitting the Dark Rader dead center. To Starbuck's chagrin, the Dark
Raider did not explode as he expected. Instead, bursts of arcing
electricity surrounded it. It gave off a blue-white glow as the
electrical discharges surged and flowed around and through it. Then the
light faded and the Dark Raider drifted forward, listing on it side, dead
in space.
	

     "Recon Patrol One to Galactica, come in."
     "Our transmission can't make it through the jamming wave. We're
still too far away from the Galactica," Starbuck said as he checked his
communications link again. The small screen continued to blink at him -
Communication Interference.
     "How are your systems? You going to make it back okay, or should I
tow you in instead?" Boomer asked as he looked over at Starbuck's damaged
Viper.
     "Huh? What did you say?" Starbuck turned down the volume on his
long-range communication channel. All he was getting was static anyway,
and it made hearing Boomer all that harder. His head was beginning to
throb, with what was certain to be a killer headache, as his left ear
continued to ache. He brushed at the dried blood there and was grateful
that at least the bleeding had stopped.
     "Do you need a tow?" Boomer asked, concerned. He could hear the
strain in Starbuck's voice and now wondered if the outside of the Viper
was all that had been damaged. "Are you okay?"
     "I'll be fine," Starbuck replied, unwilling to acknowledge anything
was wrong.
     *Be fine?* Knowing Starbuck as well he did, Boomer knew this
statement was incomplete. "How bad?"
     "I just got a little shook up when we hit, that's all," Starbuck
replied casually.
     "Uh huh, how shook up?" Boomer persisted.
     Starbuck sighed, knowing Boomer wouldn't let it rest until he gave
him some information. "I got some kind of shock when I connected with
that Dark Raider. I'm amazed it didn't blow out my systems. I'm pretty
sure it blew out my ear, though."
     "Your ear?"
     "Yeah, I can't hear very good out of my left ear right now. Probably
just a blown eardrum. Like I said, I'm fine."
     Unconvinced, Boomer ignored that comment. "When we get back I'll
request a med tech meet us in the bay."
     Starbuck just sighed audibly into the com mike. "You know, Boomer,
you are really beginning to sound like you're my mother."
     Boomer grumbled, "As if."
     "I promise, I'll go to the Life Center and get it check out as soon
as we land. However, I am certain I don't need a med tech to meet me at
my Viper." Starbuck replied in as confidant a tone he could manage. The
last thing he needed was Boomer to think he was in any way seriously hurt
and force the issue. Granted, his head hurt, but he didn't need the
embarrassment of having a med tech waiting for him in the bay. It wasn't
that serious, and more importantly, it would ruin his reputation.
     "Okay, Bucko. If you don't, I'll just sic Cassiopeia on you," Boomer
warned.
     Starbuck knew Boomer wouldn't back down on this, so he just sighed
and decided to make the best of it. After all, he thought, Cassie would
be sympathetic and sympathy was something he could use to get her to tell
him what was going on.
     Once again Starbuck wondered what Cassie was up to. She'd been very
secretive of late. Twice he had caught her talking to Sheba only to have
them stop talking the micron they spotted him. No amount of coaxing on
his part had gained him any answers.
     It wasn't so much the sudden end of all conversation that bothered
him - some topics he really didn't want to hear about - it was the guilty
looks that followed this abrupt silence.
     Starbuck was worried about this disturbing new trend. He had grown
very attached to Cassie, more than he had to any of his past conquests.
Only this time, she wasn't his conquest, he was hers. Starbuck feared
she'd done more than just make him her conquest; she'd stolen his heart.
He'd never believed it was possible for him to actually lose his heart to
love; he'd never put it on the table. Somehow this time, he'd unknowingly
gambled with it and lost the game. Now he hope fervently she wasn't going
to take it and run.
     Oh, he'd given her several reasons to leave him: Athena, Brie and
Dietra just to name a few, but somehow he always come back to her. The
others were more of a check and balance, to prove to himself that he
wasn't serious about anyone. Yet, the thought of Cassie with someone else
drove shards of raw anguish through him. This was a new feeling for him,
and it made him all the more concerned over Cassie's actions of late. He
knew the games; he'd written the rules.
     Boomer's voice abruptly cut off his errant thoughts. "If your
systems took a shock, how bad are they?"
     "Most of my systems appear to be registering operational," Starbuck
replied, having already gone through a checklist of all his major
systems. "My left engine's readings are fluctuating a bit but otherwise,
I think I'm OK. What does it look like from out there?"
     Boomer took his first, long look at the damage to Starbuck's Viper.
"Well you're certainly going to piss off your flight crew for crumpling
your front sensor array" Boomer came back with as he slowed down his
forward momentum, allowing Starbuck's Viper to slowly pass along side
him.
     The front nose section of the Viper was scrapped and creased. Boomer
could easily follow the path the other ship had taken as it scraped along
the front nose section of the Viper, tearing a good size gash down the
hull. Where the left gun and front section of the left delta wing should
be, there was only a stubby piece of torn metal, sparking into the area
around it, like a miniature light show. The gash continued down along the
side of the left turbine engine, slicing through the protective covering.
"You've got some buckling and a good size tear in your outer skin."
Boomer reported as he maneuvered his Viper under Starbuck's. He looked up
and let out a low whistle.
     "That good huh?" Starbuck responded, trying to make light of the
situation.
     "Well, the good news is your luck is still holding." Boomer
countered.
     "The bad news?" Starbuck asked, an edge to his voice.
     "I found the front half of your delta wing."
     "Huh?"
     "It's been twisted underneath and jammed up against your underside,"
Boomer explained. "Part of it has penetrated your left engines outer
casing. A few more microns to the left and it would have punctured your
Tylium cells. Looks like you're reputation as the luckiest pilot in the
fleet is secure, Bucko."
     "Yah well, I not taking any bets on that yet." He said, the stress
coming though his voice now. "How's my landing gear look?" He asked.
     "I can't tell. The hatch is partially blocked."
     "Will it extend?" Starbuck persisted.
     "Hard to say, but it looks like your gear should be able to push the
debris out of the way." Boomer edged his Viper over trying to get a
better look. "Only one way to know for sure, you're just going to have to
try it." He said finally.
     "Okay, here goes." Starbuck activated the power buss to his landing
systems and took a deep breath before grasping the 'Gear Extend' switch
between his thumb and finger.
     "NO - WAIT! DON'T ACTIVATE IT!! Boomer suddenly yelled out in alarm.
     Starbuck jerked his hand away from the switch. "Why? What's wrong?"
     "You've got a leak." Boomer stated in a flat strained voice.
     "Oh feldercarb, from where?"
     "I'm not sure, there are a lot of droplets floating under the broken
wing section." Boomer could see the tightly clustered droplets bunched up
under the debris. "They're not dark so it's not a power systems leak.".
     "It's clear?" Starbuck asked, with dread.
     "Yeah, Bucko." Boomer answered evenly. "It could be coolant leak
or.."
     "Tylium," Starbuck finished. Volatile Tylium. If he tried to lower
his landing gear it would push on the broken delta wing and certainly
cause a spark. Not good - most assuredly not good.
     Starbuck checked his fuel, "My fluid levels seems stable enough.
Perhaps it is coolant," he called out.
     "It's not a big enough leak to make a dent on your levels yet. I
wouldn't cover that bet if I were you."
     "Giving me betting advice now, Boomer?" Starbuck tried to sound
light." I'll worry about it latter. What do we do about our friend
floating over there?"
     "We need to take it back. That's the only way we can hope to
overcome this technology," Boomer stated.
     "Boomer, you always were one to point out the obvious. But, with my
leak unknown, I don't think a tracking beam would be wise."
     "I'm giving you gambling advice and you're thinking. My what a mixed
up day," Boomer teased.
     Starbuck grinned and redirected his power from his landing systems
to his magnetic tow cables.
     "Okay, Magna-lock cables it is then."

-----------

     "Shuttle Delta, you are cleared for landing on Beta Deck, shuttle
bay 4."
     "Acknowledged, shuttle bay 4."
     Omega listened to the com traffic that filtered in through his
headset. What he was waiting for was a signal from one of their patrols
that they had sent out. Behind him, he could hear muffled footsteps
approach him. He' been listening to those footsteps for the past centar
as they paced around the bridge like some caged animal. Now, they stopped
behind him.
     "Still no response from Blue or Green squadrons. Flight Sergeant
Jolly's last report said they were heading into the jamming field they
encountered." Omega turned in his chair in time to see the worry flash
across Apollo's face. Covering his com mike with his hand Omega
whispered. "Your father could never stand waiting for word on a missing
patrol, either."
     "He had yahrens to get use to it. I don't know how he did it,"
Apollo said in admiration.
     Omega shook his head and smiled. "He didn't. He'd just pace around
the bridge until word came, one way or another. Just like you."
     Apollo looked over at Omega and smiled at the comparison. "Thanks."
     "What are you going to tell the Council about the transfer of the
Crystal's and Scarab's population? "
     "I haven't thought about it. I figured I'd worry about it later."
     "Uh, Apollo," and Omega gestured behind him. "I think it's 'later'."
     Behind Apollo, four white-robed delegates of the Council of the
Twelve entered the bridge.
     "Frak, not now!" Apollo hissed.
     "Captain Apollo, may we have a word with you," Councillor Yogan
requested, in way that was obviously a command.
     Starbuck tapped the pressure gauge of the tow cable and watched as
the needle obediently rose out of the red, danger zone and into the
green, safe zone.
     "Starbuck?"
     "Yo."
     "We've got company." Boomer's excessively calm voice alerted
Starbuck.
     "What?" Starbuck checked his scanner. He had set it on forward scan,
while Boomer had his on rear scan. Quickly, he switched it back to rear
scan. He watched with apprehension as twelve blips appeared behind them.
     "Felgercarb."
     "They're going to catch up to us at this speed," Boomer confirmed.
     "They just don't want us to take their new toy home," Starbuck said
as he checked the power levels of the tow cable. The magnetic locks were
holding but draining the power from his engines.
     "Guess nobody ever showed them how to share their toys," Boomer
countered, as he check his own power levels. "We can't outrun them towing
this thing. We'll have to jettison the cables."
     "Frak that! We have to get this thing back. The technology is too
valuable."
     "I agree, but you're not exactly up to another fire fight," Boomer
admonished.
     Starbuck was suddenly distracted by a light flashing feverishly at
him, its red color demanding attention. "I don't think it's going to
matter, Boomer. We've just been cut off."
     "What?!" Boomer checked his forward scanner just as additional blips
began to inch across the screen toward them. "Frak it! Are we out of
jamming range yet?"
     "No. My sensors still show the jamming field at 2400 x 3600. No one
beyond two hectars is going to understand anything we transmit," Starbuck
angrily answered.
     "Frak. How far away is the group behind us?" Boomer asked as he
watched the forward group change course to intercept them.
     "Six hectars. They'll be on us in approximately five centons. The
group in front of us will catch us in about three."
     "We don't have a choice. We're going to have to leave your new
friend behind," he concluded, frustrated.
     "Frak it!" Starbuck pounded the side of his cockpit in impotent
anger. "OK, turn to point 46.1. Lets make a run for it."
     "We'll never out run them to the fleet," Boomer cautioned, as he
started transferring his power systems.
     "We don't need to. We just need to get into communication range,"
Starbuck replied as he also redirected his power from the magnetic cables
back to his engines. "If we can't keep this ship, then we have to at
least pass on the transmission we intercepted."
     "Disengaging tow cable!" Starbuck watched as Boomer's tow cable
floated free from his Viper.
     "Activating recon beacon on the tow cable. " Starbuck then pulled
the release lever. "Tow cable away."
     "You're being rather optimistic," Boomer marveled, as they both
engaged their turbos.
     "'Optimistic' is my new middle name, Boomer!" Starbuck announced.
     "I always thought it was 'Dumb Luck'!" came a voice over the com
channel.
     "Jolly?!"
     "You didn't think the Captain would let you two have all the fun,
did you?" came the reply as Jolly's Viper rocketed into view before them,
followed shortly by the rest of Blue and Green squadrons. The Vipers
didn't slow but continued on past Starbuck and Boomer's position. "You
don't mind if we play with your friends, do you?"
     "No, no! Have all the fun you want!" Starbuck shouted in relief.
"Come on, Boomer, we've got some tow cables to catch!"
     "Counsilors, we don't have time for you to take a vote on this. When
we are out of immediate danger, I will be more than happy to give you and
the rest of the Council a full report," Apollo replied in an attempt to
forestall yet another request for a full Council hearing.
     Apollo was certain he was in hostile territory as he sat facing the
four Councilors in the relatively small command briefing room. They had
been here for 20 centons already, and Apollo doubted they had talked
about anything of any real importance, beyond the Galactica's damage. The
rest was politics! He knew he wasn't very good at the game, his temper
usually getting the better of him. Now, he strove for calm. All his
instincts shouted at him to be near a com channel, to monitor the
situation of his missing patrols, but he also realized he couldn't risk
alienating the Councilors and the Council. At least not yet.
     "You will give us a full report, now, *Captain*. We have waited long
enough," Bracus contradicted in an angry huff.
     "What more to do you need to know? I've already gone over the damage
to the Galactica and the status of her crew."
     "We know that, Captain." Bracus cut him off. "What we want to know
is when will you move the fleet out of this area? The people are frantic
to get away from here. We all know the Cylons could come back at any time
to finish us off. With the Galactica damaged, we are defenseless."
     "Bracus, with the Galactica damaged, we can't possibly leave this
sector!" Apollo shouted, his anger getting the better of him. They'd gone
over this argument a dozen times, at least, and he was very close to
losing what precious little patience he had with the Councilor.
     Apollo could see the storm signs brewing amongst the other
Councilors. "Look, I know you are only concerned about the welfare of the
fleet." Well, that wasn't the truth, but, Apollo thought, it couldn't
hurt to pander to their egos. "It's my main concern, too. Our engineers
are working as fast as they can to make the structural repairs necessary
for the fleet to resume her journey. But, until then, the Galactica
cannot be moved."
     "Granted," Yogan said, forestalling Bracus in yet another round of
needling Apollo about leaving the area. Apollo looked over at Yogan in
surprise. He was up to something, that was for sure, but what? Not for
the first time, Apollo wished he'd inherited at least some of his
father's skill at handling the politicians.
     "We're getting nowhere, and to be honest, the more we pester the
Captain the longer it will be until we move this fleet." Yogan said to
Bracus. "You've been straightforward with us, Captain. Now I'll be
straight with you." That would be a first, Apollo thought, but held his
tongue.
     "You haven't been very forthcoming on keeping us informed in this
emergency." Yogan held up his hand before Apollo could respond. "I know
you have been busy, but you must understand that the Council needs to
know these things, in order to relay what information is necessary to our
people. To keep them calm," he added almost as an afterthought. Apollo
felt 'Pacified' would have been a better word for what Yogan meant.
     "You must realize, Apollo, that we must work at keeping the trust of
the people, and no information during a crisis breeds distrust. We, of
the Council, must work at preventing that at all costs," Yogan stated. He
then smiled at Apollo and added, "You must understand this, too, if you
plan to run for the regrettably vacant Caprican seat on the Council."
     Apollo had always been very careful never to underestimate his
opponent in battle. Now, he realized he had overestimated them in this
case. Listening to Yogan, he realized that they didn't care about the
ramification of this crisis to the fleet, as much as they cared about
their political standing with the people of the fleet. And more
importantly, what Apollo's political agenda was. "I have no intention of
running for a political seat on the council, councilors," Apollo quietly
explained. "You are mistaking me for my father."
     "But, your father.."
     "Was a politician as much as he was the Commander of this fleet. He
was a member of the original Council of the Twelve as a politician first
and a military commander second. He once told me he actually enjoyed
locking horns with the other Councilors." Apollo paused as a flash of
memory momentarily brought that conversation back to him. "Well, at least
he did before the Destruction. The Interplanetary Military Advisor Aknon,
was the one who worried about any decisions the Council made that would
affect the safety of the Colonies." Apollo saw the light dawn in Yogan's
eyes as he realized where Apollo was going with this.
     "And a fine job he did, too!" Prate spat out, unsettled by the
direction of the conversation.
     Apollo nodded his head in agreement with her. "Yes, we'll never
really know if Aknon was a pawn for Baltar and the Cylons, or just an old
fool who was just too tired of war." Apollo could still feel the
unpleasant shock when he'd first heard the Council had opened
communications with the Cylons. They had stopped all negotiations with
the Gorns; who where requesting an alliance with the Colonies. The Cylons
had made it one of their conditions for the peace talks.
     Apollo's maternal grandfather had worked long and hard at getting
the volatile wing warriors to the negotiations table. They had been close
to an agreement when the Cylons had asked for peace. Yes, if the Gorn
Alliance had gone through, it would have changed the power structure in
the galaxy. The Cylons knew that, and started their "peace" talks; making
sure the Gorn Alliance was the first thing they destroyed.
     Aknon, the Military Advisor, had been a fool to let the council
start the negotiations before the Gorn Alliance was finished - or he'd
been a traitor.
     "But, since the destruction," Apollo continued, "my father also had
to look at everything from a military viewpoint, and that's a hard place
to be. The two objectives seldom match up, and trying to manage both
factions was an enormous strain on him." Apollo looked at each of the
Councilors in turn. "One that I do not intend to endure." He watched them
carefully before he played his final card.
     "We are still at war, Councilors." He went on, not giving them time
to respond.. "Still under military law." Bracus began to stutter as he
finally realize what Apollo was saying. Yogan narrowed his eyes and
stared at Apollo with an icy look, but didn't interrupt. "I'm a military
leader not a civilian leader. I plan to leave the domestic decisions to
you; that's what you are here for. But," and Apollo stood up, "the
military decisions are mine, and my aides, not the Council's."
     "Very well, *Captain*," Yogan said into the shocked silence that had
followed Apollo's statement. "But, be assured this is not the end of this
discussion. The Council will require a full accounting when we are safely
out of this sector."
     Apollo held back the quick retort that came to his lips, *If we get
out of this sector,* and with a nod of agreement, he marched out of the
briefing room.
     "How'd it go?" Omega whispered as he watched the Councilors leave
the briefing room and head for the lift.
     "To be honest, I don't know." Apollo sighed and picked up his
headset. "Right now, I don't think I care."
     "You will later," Omega predicted.
     "Yes, I probably will," Apollo agreed as he looked out of the main
view port, refusing to look at the departing Councilors. When he heard
the lift doors close he finally turned around. "Did you get a hold of
Shadrick yet?"
     "He's supervising the spot patching on the fracture. He's asked us
not to try any maneuvering until they're done. Then we should be able to
do some minimal maneuvering."
     "Oh, no problem. I just hope he told the Cylons. How long is this
going to take?" Apollo asked, still piqued from his Council encounter.
     "About another four centars," Omega calmly replied, not at all
bothered by Apollo's mood.
     "We may not have that long. Any word on Starbuck and Boomer's
patrol?"
     "Not yet. I've been monitoring - wait" Omega put his hand to his
earpiece and turned up the volume. "Yes, Blue Squadron is back in
communication range. Jolly's reporting they found Starbuck and Boomer."
Omega activated the speaker control sending the com traffic to the
command station's speakers.
     "....uck's Viper is a bit worse for the wear. He'll need help
landing..."
     "No, I won't! I'm perfectly able to land. The damage is only skin
deep."
     "You've got a Tylium leak, for Kobol's sake!"
     "No, I don't! I have an *unknown* clear, liquid leak. It's probably
just coolant. No problem."
     Apollo turned on the mike on his head set. "Starbuck, what did you
do to your Viper this time?"
     "Nothing serious, Apollo, you know me. I just like to add to the
excitement."
     "He's had his left delta wing torn off and is sporting a possible
Tylium leak from his under carriage."
     "*Coolant!* I've checked my fuel levels; there is no fuel leak. It's
coolant, already."
     "Starbuck, let's not take any chances. Omega, activate the
Landing..." Apollo started to say but was quickly cut off by Starbuck.
     "Apollo! I've never needed to use the Landing Arm since the academy,
and I sure don't need it now. Boomer's just being his normal paranoid
self. My ship is fine, I promise. I'm taking her in. Trust me on this
one, will you?"
     Apollo sighed. How many times had he heard this banter before, when
Starbuck returned with a damaged Viper? Only then, he knew, if the damage
was serious enough, the bridge personnel wouldn't let Starbuck bring his
Viper in by himself. Apollo had been able to let Starbuck argue the issue
on his own, without becoming a target in the lieutenant's angry sights.
But now, he couldn't relent. "Sorry Starbuck...."
     "I can land! It's safe!" Starbuck persisted.
     "Lieutenant! If you won't voluntarily take assistance, then consider
it an order. I'm not risking our newly repaired landing bay just because
you're willing to gamble on this."
     "Yes, sir!" came the stony response.
     "Starbuck..." Apollo sighed.
     "You're ruining my perfect record, you know." Starbuck grumbled, but
Apollo could hear the reluctant smile in his voice.
     "Perfect, record? As if!" Apollo chuckled, as he watch Starbuck's
Viper approach the Landing Arm. The Viper slowed to a stop, as the large
mechanical arm firmly grasped it around the midsection in its
scissor-like claw. Then slowly the arm retracted back down the rigging
set into the ceiling of the landing bay. It would then hold the damaged
Viper up off the deck until a support tripod could be set into place.
     Apollo knew Starbuck hated the Landing Arm in an almost phobic kind
of way. He'd had to use one once, back at the academy, and ended up
almost crushed to death. The controllers were just cadets, themselves,
and had exerted too much pressure on Starbuck's Viper, crushing the ship
in the large metal claw. Starbuck had managed to avoid any serious
injury, but it had taken the deck crew almost a centar to pull his
crushed Viper into the bay, and then cut him out of it.
     Apollo watched as Starbuck's Viper was gently set down on a foamed
tripod and exhaled in relief.
     Omega chucked at him. "I see you're going to have to get used to
this side of Starbuck's more entertaining landings."
     Starbuck sighed deeply as his Viper was gently set on the foamed,
padded landing cradle. He punched open the canopy and hoisted himself
out. As his feet hit the deck the bay begin to spin and he staggered back
up against his ship. "Whoa," he murmured as he held onto the side of his
ship for a moment trying to regain his equilibrium.
     A deck hand walked past, not even noticing him, to join the growing
group of spectators huddled just past his damaged ship. Starbuck inched
his way along the front of his Viper until he could see what had captured
their attention.
     The huge landing arm was slowly approaching them with the Dark
Raider captured in its claw. Now illuminated by the bay lights and away
from the black background of space, Starbuck got his first good look at
it.
     If possible, it appeared even more menacing as it was carried into
the bay. Starbuck realized the Dark Raider wasn't all black after all.
What he had thought was damage from the power surge, was in fact, strips
of gray metal that criss-crossed the whole ship. The lights around the
bay reflected oddly off the flat black and gray surface almost as if the
skin of the Raider was absorbing them.
     The landing arm came to a stop above a hastily modified landing
cradle. Beyond it, Starbuck noted the two teams of warriors awaiting it -
guns drawn. Behind them, he could see Apollo exiting the lift followed by
Shadrick. Apollo walked up behind Boomer and patted his shoulder in
approval. Boomer turned and said something to Apollo that made him turn
to stare in Starbuck's direction, searching for him. Starbuck knew Apollo
probably couldn't see much of him behind the deck hands and the front
nose of his Viper, but he must have realized where he was because Apollo
flashed a thumbs up at him.
     A loud blast of air from the landing arm distracted Starbuck. He
turned to watch as it released its grasp on its captive, then smoothly
rise up and out of the way.
     Starbuck stayed where he was, his vertigo forgotten, as he waited
tensely and watched as the first team of armed warriors took positions
around the captured ship. The second team spread out around it to provide
cover fire, if needed.
     One of the warriors, leaning against the Raider, rose up and peered
into the darkened cockpit. His sudden duck and nod of his head would have
been enough to tell everyone that there were indeed active Cylons on
board, but, if they had any doubts, the laser fire that burst through the
cockpit's window would have put an end to them.
     Immediately, the second team of warriors opened fire, shooting at
the moving target they saw through the hold in the window. Return fire
proved that at least one Cylon still remained functional.
     "Be careful! You don't want to damage the ship!!" Dr Wilker screamed
from the other side of the bay, where he waited along with Dr Salik and
the rest of the technical teams awaiting their chance to get a close look
at this new technology. The warriors ignored him. Starbuck knew from the
color of their laser flashes that they were firing an electrical charge,
meant to stun or immobilize a Cylon, not vaporize the valuable ship.
     While the Cylons were distracted by the frontal fire the first team
had opened up the bottom hatch and now tossed in an electro static
grenade. As soon as the charge's flash subsided, two warriors leapt into
the ship. Laser shots were heard, then nothing. For a heartbeat everyone
held their collective breaths. Then one of the two warriors appeared at
the hatch signaling the all clear.
     Starbuck let out an audible sigh of relief, drawing the attention of
the deck hand next to him.
     "Oh my Lord!" The deck hand exclaimed, before he began to shout for
a medtech.
     Amidst requests and all out demands for him to "Please, just sit
down!" Starbuck continued around his Viper, intent on getting a closer
look at the Dark Raider. He waved off the deck hands, telling them
austerely, "I don't need a medtech, I'm fine!"
     Unfortunately, removing his hand from the side of his ship had been
a big mistake. His vertigo seized him and took him down to the deck in a
flash.
     "Starbuck!" Both Apollo and Boomer shouted as they raced across the
bay toward him.
     "I'm fine, I'm fine," he protested as hands pushed him back down,
refusing to let him up.
     "Starbuck don't move," Apollo cautioned.
     "He said he'd gotten some kind of a shock, but assured me it was
nothing too serious. I knew I should have requested a medtech meet him in
the bay." Boomer explained to his worried and irate Captain.
     A breathing mask was forced on Starbuck's face, and he violently
ripped it off. "Let me up!! I'm fine, I tell you! I was just dizzy," he
shouted at the crowed around him.
     "Let me be the judge of that, Lieutenant," came Salik's no-nonsense
baritone. Boomer got out of the way as the burly doctor came forward,
medical scanner in hand.
     "He came around his ship and collapsed to the deck," Apollo was
explaining to the doctor as Salik passed his sensor over Starbuck.
     "Lie still!" Apollo ordered, as Starbuck tried to sit up, and placed
the oxygen mask back onto Starbuck's face.
     Frustrated, Starbuck gave an exasperated sigh and laid back. The
throbbing in his head seemed to be in rhythm with his angered pulse. Soon
Salik had his sensor over Starbuck's face. Gently, he turned Starbuck's
head to the side, exposing the injured ear. Then Salik sat back, put his
scanner away, and shot something into Starbuck's neck.
     "Doctor?" Apollo asked when Salik removed the breather from
Starbuck's face.
     "Well, the Lieutenant's right. I suspect he *is* quite a bit dizzy.
Seems he's blown out his ear somehow," Salk said as he put his
instruments away," but, otherwise he's seems fine."
     "But..?" and Apollo motioned to the blood that covered the upper
left side of Starbuck and the streaks of blood on his upper thighs.
     Salk shook his head as he helped Starbuck up into a sitting
position. "All from his ear apparently."
     "See, I told you I was fine." Starbuck grumbled at them sourly.
     "Yah, but you could have warned us about the blood," Boomer
reproached.
     "Blood?" Starbuck looked down at himself. "Oh," was all he said as
he looked at the red brown stains all over his uniform.
     "Starbuck..." Apollo heaved a sigh as he shook his head. "Boomer why
don't you help Salik get Starbuck here, to the life center." Apollo said
as he stood up then turned to look at the Dark Raider. "While I take a
look at what you've brought home."
 
     "Sir, the computer's finished decoding the message Recon Patrol One
intercepted." Omega turned to face the ensign that stood just behind him
and, taking the page that was handed him, scanned it quickly.
     "Is it bad?" Athena asked.
     Only the slight widening of his eyes betrayed his surprise that she
had come up behind him unnoticed. "Could be worse," he said as he passed
it on to her.
     Smiling her thanks, Athena took the offered paper. Then after
reading it, she looked back up at him, her face taut. "It could?" she
asked unsteadily.
     "Well, they could already be here," he said pragmatically as he took
the printed out back from her.
     "True," she granted as she followed him down the dais steps. "So
we've got about two days before the second ship rendezvous with the one
that attacked us?" He nodded his agreement as he continued down the main
station steps, then crossed in front of the helm station. "How long did
Shadrick say the repairs would take?" she persisted as she followed him.
It was all she could do not to slide down into a chair and wrap her arms
around herself. Her anxiety had doubled in those few moments she had
looked at the decoded transmission, and her over anxious nerves now
seemed to be trying to turned her inside out. Her intestines had settled
for wrapping themselves into knots.
     He stopped just outside the bridge office and turned back toward
her. "Longer than two days," he said quietly as he opened the door.
     Athena watched him enter the room, the door closing behind him, then
finally allowed herself to sink into a nearby chair.

------------

     The main lights were out in the computer room, but Starbuck could
still see the dim light coming from the computer station in the back. He
could just make out the dark hair over the back of the adjoining station
as he threaded his way through the room. As he walked he took in the mess
it was in now. Piles of printouts were strewn across the floor near the
main station to his right. Even more printouts were piled all across a
nearby table. Someone had stuck together pages of some diagram and tacked
them to the wall. Then, in what to him looked like a haphazard fashion,
they had attached even more pages over the main diagram.
     As Starbuck came around the last set of computer stations, he could
see that Apollo was staring intently at something on the screen before
him. All about him, data discs were scattered around the station, and
Apollo was concentrating so hard on the text before him that not only did
he not notice Starbuck's arrival, he was even muttering out loud to
himself as he read.
     The scene was one from their past, and Starbuck smiled at the
memory. How many times had he awoken at night to hear Apollo muttering,
only to find him at their shared computer station, studying one of his
textbooks before an exam?
     "...after the Sythian disaster in 2986, various laws and
interstellar regulations were soon developed concerning the use of the
light-speed capable engines within a planetary system. Colonial
regulation 1401, specifically states; ' No vessel shall under any
circumstances ignite a Sythatic light-speed drive with in a parsec of a
planetary system...' "
     "Studying for an exam?" Starbuck interrupted.
     "What?" Startled, Apollo looked up, momentarily confused, then his
eyes widened as he recognized the reference. "No. No exams this time," he
replied as he sat back in his chair and leaned as far back as he could,
stretching his arms above his head. They both heard the sound of Apollo's
back cracking and Starbuck laughed at the surprised look on Apollo's
face.
     "Yep, just what I thought. You're getting old. I, on the other hand,
will never age," Starbuck said as he sat on the edge of the computer
station. "What are you reading anyway? Sure sounds like a textbook."
     "Synthatic engines: A technical and historic look at light speed,"
Apollo replied, still leaning back in his chair, his hands interlaced
behind his head.
     "Oh, lovely, some 'light' reading." Starbuck grinned as he picked up
the data disc cover, "Why?"
     Apollo yawned then sat back up. "Every bit of information helps.
Besides, after talking to one of the synthatic engineers, I figured I
needed more information on the subject if I was ever going to understand
what he was trying to explain to me."
     "Yeah, but technical manuals?" Starbuck picked up one on shuttles
and looked at it skeptically.
     "It's the best source of information on the details of how something
works. If you wanted to know about, say, a certain regulation, you'd look
the regulation itself up wouldn't you?"
     "Not if I could avoid it!" Starbuck held up his hands as if to ward
off something unpleasant. "Those regulations go on for pages, heck
volumes. No, I'd just pull out my handy version of the officers best
friend, 'Bluff Definitions.' "
     Apollo rolled his eyes at Starbuck. "If you don't read the
regulation then you won't know why it was instituted. The way I look at
it, it can only help to know why a regulation exists instead of just that
it exists. Take this one here." Reaching forward he tapped the computer
screen before him. "Regulation 1401."
     "No light speed in a planetary system." Starbuck answered without
pause.
     "Good. So you were paying attention to some of your classes back at
the Academy? Or do you only know the BD abbreviation?" Apollo grinned at
Starbuck. "Do you know why?"
     "The Synthian Disaster," Starbuck replied, grinning back at Apollo,
enjoying the challenge. This was like when they use to study for an exam.
Apollo would fire questions at Starbuck until he was sure Starbuck
understood the subject inside and out. Apollo had been a tough, if
thorough, tutor.
     "Yes, and what was the Synthian Disaster?" Apollo persisted as he
leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. The sparkle in his eyes
betraying his amusement.
     "The Synthians ignited a light speed engine near their home planet,
destroying it." Starbuck fired back, crossing his arms smugly.
     "True, " Apollo said, but he had obviously not yet received the
answer he wanted from Starbuck, so he continued. "So, how did that
destroy the planet?"
     "How?" Starbuck faltered . He unfolded his arms as he racked his
brain for more information on the subject. "Does it matter?" he finally
said, frustrated. "Just knowing it could destroy a planet is good enough
to keep people from doing it." Starbuck had forgotten how annoying this
game could be, especially when he'd run out of answers.
     Apollo shook his head, realizing he was pushing Starbuck. "I guess,
but unless we know what it did and why, how do we know we won't
accidentally cause some other disaster simply because we didn't know all
the facts?"
     "I don't know," Starbuck admitted. " I guess that's why you get to
make the decisions. You're good with all the extra details and stuff." He
flashed Apollo a grin.
     "I guess, but you're right. It is dry reading," Apollo said as he
picked up a data disc, then tossed it back down, rejecting it. "I keep
hoping to find out something, anything, that might make a difference in
the long run." Apollo rubbed at his temples.
     Starbuck watched as Apollo searched through the mess of printouts to
his right, uncovering a small pile of medical packets that looked
remarkably like the one he'd find in an emergency med kit, and shook his
head. Some had already been opened and apparently used. "Salik won't like
you stealing from his emergency kits."
     "What he doesn't know won't hurt me," Apollo replied as he popped
the purloined pills into his mouth and tried to wash them down with, what
Starbuck figured from the grimace Apollo made, was very cold coffee.
     Acutely aware now of his own tension-tight muscles, Starbuck rubbed
at the back of his neck and thought about how long the past two cycles
had been. It felt like they had been the longest since the Destruction.
He watched as Apollo again rubbed at his temples and couldn't help but
notice the strain that was showing on his friend. It showed in the
rumpled clothing that Starbuck figured Apollo hadn't changed since the
attack, in the bloodshot eyes that probably hadn't closed for more than a
half dozen centons, at best. And, Starbuck was certain, the headache
Apollo had was not merely brought on by stress, but severe fatigue.
     "You know, some sleep would probably cure that headache, " Starbuck
suggested. Apollo looked up at him and sighed.
     "I don't have time," he said. "I've got to finish going through
these repair requests from the department heads. Shadrick needs a
prioritized list as soon as possible, so he can arrange his repairs and
see which ones he'll need to add to the main repairs he's currently
doing."
     "So, why were you going through the technical manual then?" Starbuck
asked as he took note of the report folders that had been partially
hidden under the printouts.
     "To try to understand what it was I was reading," Apollo said,
exasperated. The momentary lightness their banter had affected seemed to
evaporate as Apollo's eyes turned troubled. Running his hand through his
hair, Apollo looked lost as he looked at the pile of reports, then down
at the scattered discs around him. "I just feel so inadequate."
     "You? Would you rather have *me* in charge?" Starbuck shot back.
     Apollo gave a short laugh. "No."
     "I didn't think so, " Starbuck replied grievously. He waited until
Apollo shot him a contrite look then grinned back at him. "All you need
is to remember you're not reviewing pilot reviews and Viper repair
reports. You have others around you who can do this and", Starbuck paused
as he caught Apollo's eye, "are trained to do this."
     "I know, Starbuck. Its just Omega's swamped with extra work as it
is. I couldn't just pile this on him, too. I wanted him to have a chance
to actually *see* his new daughter for a few centars."
     "Yes you can!" Starbuck corrected forcefully. "Anything he can't
cover, he'll farm out to those below him, and they will in turn give
theirs to the ones below them, and so goes the chain of command."
Starbuck made a tsking noise as he dramatically shook his head. "Now, I
*know* you need some sleep if you, the inventor of the 'pass the workload
buck', has forgotten how the system works."
     "Not completely. Just my control freak gene kicking in, I guess."
Apollo chuckled back at him. "Starbuck, what would I do without you to
keep me focused on the right perspective."
     "I really don't know," he replied smugly. "I keep telling Boomer how
invaluable I am." He grinned at Apollo. "So what did happen?"
     "To what?" Apollo asked confused.
     "The Sythian Disaster," Starbuck reminded him. "What did happen?"
     "Oh. Well, apparently when they ignited the engine, its carbonic
fusion assembly caused a chain reaction that ignited the planet's
ionosphere. They said it was a firestorm that engulfed the entire
planet's upper atmosphere. It's called the "Fireball" effect.
     "So, it burned the planet?" Starbuck asked as he reached into his
jacket's inner pocket and pulled out a fumerello.
     "Well no, actually, the fireball didn't do that much damage to the
planet itself. It was the loss of the ionosphere that doomed the planet.
With the planet's natural filters burned off, it was vulnerable to its
sun's more deadly rays."
     "Solar and cosmic radiations?" Starbuck asked, looking over at
Apollo as he bent his head to light his fumerello. He cupped his hand
around the small flame from his pocket element. It was silly, he knew,
because he was in no danger of a gust of wind blowing through the
computer room and snuffing it out, but he'd never quite gotten out of the
habit.
     Apollo scowled at him and fanned his hand before his face to
redirect the noxious fumes away from him. "Yeah, the flora and fauna were
at the mercy of the sun's unfiltered rays."
     "Hum, interesting, but, I don't see how knowing about the Fireball
is any help, not unless you're planning on frying any passing planets."
Starbuck stopped and took a long drag on his Fumerello, then deliberately
blew it out in Apollo's direction as a demonstration of his own type of
fireball.
     Apollo vainly waved at the invading smoke. "Starbuck! Stop it," he
protested. Starbuck just grinned back, as Apollo glared at him. "No, I'm
not," Apollo protested, "but I have found some interesting information
that could help."
     "Really?" Starbuck asked, doubtful that anything useful could come
from reading a technical manual. "You mean besides how to fry a planet in
1 easy step?"
     Ignoring Starbuck's sarcasm, Apollo selected a new disc and inserted
it into the disc reader, then handed the cover to Starbuck.
     Starbuck raised an eyebrow cynically, "'Space travel. A history of
interplanetary ships'," he read aloud, unimpressed.
     He watched as Apollo searched through the papers and printouts on
the desk. "As you know, we no longer have the ability to produce Sythianc
engines," Apollo began.
     "Not without a planet and a couple hundred Sythainc engineers - both
of which we're short of, thanks to the Cylons," Starbuck agreed,
disgruntled.
     Apollo nodded in agreement. "Yes, but we are having limited success
with the smaller turbo engines like the Vipers."
     Starbuck tossed the disc cover back onto the desk, discouraged. "If
they ever figure out how to cast the main turbine in zero gravity."
     Having found the report he was looking for, Apollo handed it to
Starbuck. "They have."
     Astonished, Starbuck took the report. "Really?" he asked, then
opened the cover and began flipping through the pages. "When did they
figure that out?"
     "I don't know but I found that on my father's desk, along with a
request to test the prototype."
     "Now that's promising. We could really use some new Vipers." He
handed the report back to Apollo.
     "I know, but - " and Apollo pointed back to the computer screen he'd
called up. " - what I'd like to also produce are Methlium engines."
     "Methlium?" Starbuck asked, staring at Apollo as if he'd just
suggested using Cylon Raiders. "You mean 'Shit Ships'."
     Apollo shook his head at Starbuck's words, correcting him. "Methlium
engines."
     "What good would producing Shit Ships..." At Apollo's stern look,
Starbuck corrected himself, "Methlium engines, do us? They can't be used
for the fleet ships and they don't produce enough power for the Vipers."
     "True. Due to their high fuel consumption, we can't use them for the
fleet ships, nor are they suitable for Vipers, but why not use them for
the shuttles?" Apollo asked.
     "Shuttles? Apollo, you've been buried in these manuals too long,"
Starbuck began.
     Apollo held up his hand. "Now, hold on, Starbuck. Hear me out," he
said. "The shuttles we have are on constant use throughout the fleet. It
is the only way for the civilians to get from one ship to another, and
unless we plan to isolate them on their various ships, we'll need to use
the shuttles constantly for an indefinite period of time. The problem is
they're consuming an incredible amount of our limited tylium supply."
     Starbuck opened his mouth ready to protest, but this time Apollo
held up both hands to forestall him. "Yes, one shuttle doesn't actually
use that much fuel, as it only uses its engines to take off and land. But
we're not talking one shuttle. We're talking forty-five shuttles on a
constant circuit of the fleet. That's anywhere from twenty five to a
hundred and twenty stops depending on the shuttle's route. We can only
store so much tylium in the fleet, and the shuttles are using it up at an
alarming rate. Heck, we spend half our time searching for tylium-rich
asteroids and planetoids just to keep the fleet moving. I'd rather save
the tylium that we use in the shuttles for the Vipers."
     "I thought the Council had voted to ground most of the shuttles?"
Starbuck interjected.
     "Yes, they've voted to cut the shuttles back, but the last I heard,
they were still bickering over the flight route of the reduced shuttle
service." Apollo tilted back in his chair and stretched his arms above
his head. "I assume that each one of them is arguing over which of the
ships in their jurisdiction will be affected by the change." Apollo sat
back up and tried to stifle a yawn." I don't know how they're going
figure that one out?"
     "They?" Starbuck pointed his fumerello at Apollo. "You're apart of
that now, too, you know," he said.
     "No, I'm not," Apollo retorted, leaning back in his chair again, his
arms crossed.
     "No?" Starbuck asked, perplexed. He pointed his fumerello at Apollo
then back at himself. "Ah, you want to explain how that works to me?"
     "Not really," Apollo waved his hand in an attempt to wave pass the
subject, but at Starbuck's chagrin look, Apollo sat up and sighed. "Look,
Starbuck. The short answer is - I'm no politician, and I have no plans on
becoming one. I plan to leave the domestic disputes to the Council.
That's what they're here for. Let them earn their stations."
     "But you father..." Starbuck faltered.
     "Was a politician. As much as he was the Commander, he was still a
politician." Apollo looked over at Starbuck, needing him to understand.
"It used to be, when the original Council of the Twelve was in session,
that he was a Councilor first and the Commander of a warship second.
After the destruction my father had to be a Commander first and a
politician second. The roles of Military Leader and Council President
were never meant to be shared by one person, and in my opinion, should
never be again. The strain of holding both vital positions was too hard
on him, and I feel it would have eventually undermined his authority. No
one person should hold so much authority over the fleet." Apollo looked
away, "Not even my father.".
     Starbuck stared at Apollo, taken aback. It was as if he was seeing
something in him he'd never noticed before. It wasn't as if Starbuck had
never heard Apollo's view of politics before, but Starbuck realized
something had changed in Apollo, and he was only just noticing the
changes. "I always assumed you would want to step into his role with the
Council too." Starbuck said, unsure how he felt about this change in his
perceptions. "Apollo, if you let the Council have free range, without you
there to stop them . . ." Starbuck stood up and faced Apollo, troubled
about the situation. "Can you imagine the plain idiotic, stupid mistakes
they'd make regarding the Galactica and the fleet? I know I don't want to
even consider it as a joke." He turned away, agitated.
     "I never said I'd let them make any decision regarding the
Galactica." Apollo said softly.
     Starbuck turned back to him. "But if you're not going to be on the
Council, how would you prevent it?"
     Apollo stood up, facing Starbuck, his eyes serious, "The Galactica
and the fleet's safety are no longer the Council's concerns. The Council
will continue to oversee the civilian population and their problems,
but," and Apollo put his hand on Starbuck's shoulder, "they will never
make any military decisions that will endanger this fleet again."
     Starbuck shook his head, unconvinced. "Nice thought, but just how do
you plan to convince the Council to agree to this?" he asked.
     Apollo dropped his hand and grinned at Starbuck, his expression in
no way lightened. "Who said I was going to ask them?"
     Starbuck faltered, stunned.
     "Look," Apollo continued. "My father interacted with them as a
politician. That's what he was good at, far better than I'd ever want or
could be. I don't plan on being that nice. I'm a warrior, and currently
in command of the Galactica. They are not. We are currently in a state of
war and running under Military Law. I have no intention of changing that
status as long as we are out here trying to survive the Cylons." Apollo's
eyes begged Starbuck to support him in this.
     "Apollo, I..." Starbuck hesitated, then watched Apollo as he began
to understand the changes he could see in him. "And you thought you were
inadequate for the job?" he said in admiration. Taking a step back
Starbuck placed his feet firmly together and smartly came to attention
and saluted Apollo.
     Sarcastically, Apollo grinned at Starbuck. But as Starbuck remained
stiffly at attention, holding the salute, the grin began to fade and
Starbuck could tell Apollo realized this was no joke. Solemnly, Apollo
stood up straight and smartly saluted back at him.
     Lowering his arm, Starbuck realized that this was probably the only
real salute he's ever given Apollo. A fact he could tell Apollo was also
well aware of as they stood there staring at each other, realizing that
their friendship had somehow changed and only time would tell to what
extent.
     Breaking the tableau, Apollo gestured awkwardly to Starbuck's head.
"So how's the head?" he asked, in an obvious attempt to dispel the uneasy
feelings that had come between them.
     "Ear," Starbuck corrected.
     "Huh?"
     "I didn't hurt my head, I hurt my ear," he explained quietly, still
a bit unsettled.
     "Well, I see it hasn't stopped your smug disposition," Apollo
attempted to joke back at him.
     Starbuck grumbled under his breath, not up for the argument he had
so eagerly anticipated earlier.
     Leaning forward, Apollo asked, "What was that?"
     "It was a coolant leak," he answered, "I checked."
     "I know," Apollo admitted, "I got the report from Barton."
     "I told you I knew what I was doing," Starbuck complained, his
earlier ire returning. When he had gotten the report on his Viper he had
come up to dispute Apollo's actions. Apollo should have trusted his
ability to assess the situation correctly.
     "It doesn't change a thing, Starbuck," Apollo said gently. "We still
couldn't take the risk."
     "Yeah, I know, it's just..." and Starbuck raised his arm trying to
express his earlier feelings.
     "Unseemly to have to be carried?" Apollo answered for him.
     "Yeah, I guess, " he said dropping his arms, then pointed at Apollo,
"Darn bad for my reputation you know."
     "I know," Apollo said, understanding what Starbuck couldn't find the
words for. "You'll just have to bask in the glory of your find instead.".
     "If they can figure it out."
     "Give them time, they will," Apollo said, with more certainly than
Starbuck would give that team of scientists.
     "Speaking of time . . . " Starbuck turned serious. "How much do we
have?"
     Apollo sighed. "Not enough."
     Starbuck sat back down on the desk. He could tell he wasn't going to
like this answer.
     "The second base ship should rendezvous with them in two days.
Omega's estimated four days at the most before that second base ship will
be in range to hit us."
     Starbuck jumped up off the desk, his unease of a moment ago easily
turning into an impotent rage. "A lot of good getting that frakkin
message here does if we can't use the information!" he complained
bitterly as he paced the small area behind the desk.
     "Well, I've been thinking about that," Apollo admitted softly.
     Apollo's tone brought him to an abrupt stop, and he could felt his
grin returning as he turned to face Apollo, "Oh? What's your plan?"
     Apollo walked into the Life Center and hesitated as he looked
around. There were fewer occupied life pods than the last time he was
here, and he feared that was not a good sign.
     He'd been on his way to his quarters when he decided to detour
through the Life Center. He knew the nagging worry that had been at the
back of his thoughts for the past several centars wouldn't let him rest,
so he finally decided to check in with Dr Salik regarding the condition
of those still recovering. Now, as he looked around at the number of
empty life pods, he felt suddenly nauseous. It was as if his insides had
abruptly turned to lead. He already knew the number of empty pods did not
equal the number of personal released that the doctor had reported.
     Apollo scanned the room looking for the doctor, then noticed what at
first glace looked like an empty life pod set near the monitoring
station. Yet this pod basked under the light of a few heat lamps as its
monitors beeped softly on low volume.
     Curiosity gave way to understanding as Apollo walked over to take a
look. Under the lamps a small bundle slept blissfully.
     Apollo looked at the sleeping child. The little figure stretched and
gave a mighty yawn before relaxing completely, continuing her sleep.
     Despite himself, Apollo smiled. This was what they were really
fighting for, more than just the sleeping child before him, but the sense
of security to sleep so blissfully. He noticed her name on the medical
chart attached to the life pod: Artimus. Yet, above the chart, attached
to the side of the pod, was a small handwritten card in which someone had
christened her with a second name. Hope.
     "Our little Hope."
     Apollo turned as Rigel walked up next to him and lovingly looked
down upon her new daughter.
     "Hope?" Apollo asked.
     "Yes, Hope." Rigel looked up around her at the pods surrounding
them. "The techs said that after a day of so much death, her little cries
of life gave them hope." Turning back she looked down at her daughter
again. "So they christened her Hope."
     Apollo nodded at Rigel "Yes, your timing was very good that day."
     "Not my timing. Hope's." Rigel said, then looked away hugging
herself as she shivered. "If she hadn't chosen that time to come into the
universe, Omega would have been on the bridge when the attack came."
Shaking off the fear of what could have been, she reached down and picked
up the sleeping baby. Holding her close, she looked Apollo in the eye.
     "She's my Hope too. She saved him and me. I just wish..." Rigel
looked away uncertainly.
     "Yes," Apollo whispered, then he sighed heavily and started to turn
away.
     "There was nothing anybody could do," she told him, as much to
reassure herself as him. "I know Omega's obsessed with guilt for not
being at his post. I've told him it wouldn't have done any good if he'd
been there, but," she sighed, "it doesn't help."
     "I know," Apollo put a hand on her shoulder. "You couldn't have done
anything either."
     Rigel looked up at him, tears in her eyes, and nodded. "I know," she
whispered. Then, collecting herself, she continued. "Salik said I could
go back on restricted duty next shift. I'll be at my post at 0800."
     Apollo smiled at her, seeing how her enforced convalescence had
weighed on her at this time of need. "If you're sure you're up to it."
     "Yes, oh yes, I am. I think I'll go crazy if I have to stay in here
one more centar!" She spoke with feeling. "Beside, after the Caesarian, I
felt fine. I tried to get Salik to let me back sooner but, he insisted I
wait."
     "You should always follow your doctors orders," Apollo reproved, and
then smiled at the look Rigel gave him.
     "Oh yes, this from the man Salik threatened to keep sedated so he
wouldn't leave Life Center the last time he was injured?" She laughed at
him. "Oh," she winced "I better not do that again!"
     "Rigel..." Apollo began concerned.
     "Now, don't you start with me, Apollo!" she admonished, then frowned
as she looked around her. "I've already had to fight Salik over this,"
she continued, as she walked around the small pod, searching. "Apollo, do
you see any wraps?"
     "Wraps?" Apollo looked around him. "Uh, no actually, I..."
     "Here, I'll have to go get some" And in one quick movement she
deftly handed the baby over to Apollo.
     Sheer reflex allowed him to grab and hold the child. "Rigel, I..."
he started to protest at her retreating back.
     "I'll be right back," Rigel called over her shoulder, abandoning the
Captain with the small child.
     "But, I'm not..." Apollo sputtered. Sighing in frustration, Apollo
started to put the infant back down but hesitated as he looked at the
little bundle he held. He was caught by the brilliant color of her eyes,
so blue, like a summer day on Caprica. The baby, now awake, reached out,
clutching at his hand. For a moment he lost himself in that gaze. All his
troubles were forgotten and his heart-heavy fears lightened in that
singular moment where hope still existed.
     "Hope," he whispered. Yes, she was appropriately named.
     At the sound of approaching steps he looked up.
     "Looks like you've fallen under my little Hope's charm too," Rigel
said as she walked up to them.
     "I guess I did," he said as he handed her the infant, then leaned
down and gently kissed the baby's head. "Thank you, Hope, for restoring
my hope."
     Apollo walked away with a lighter heart.
 
     Apollo poured the dark steaming liquid into the pure white cup, and
contemplated the destruction of all that was pure and innocent. 'Was
there no innocence left?' he wondered. The destruction had robbed them of
so much. Purity and innocence were a hard commodity to find in the fleet.
But he had found them in his son. Now, he worried that he'd lost that
too.
     When he'd arrived back at his quarters, Athena was waiting for him.
Since she had volunteered to watch Boxey, her presence was no surprise,
but the fact that Boxey was absent was. She had stood before him,
defiance written in her posture and the determined expression she wore.
What ever she had to tell him, he knew he was not going to like it.
     He hadn't.
     Without consulting him Athena had taken Boxey to see Dr. Larous, the
battlestar's only remaining psychiatrist. She had expected an explosion
of anger from Apollo, but had only received his silent resentment.
     "Where is he now?" he had demanded calmly, his voice level.
     "He's at my place," she answered cautiously.
     "Alone?" This time his alarm did register through his voice.
     "No, of course not. Bojay's with him," she replied, surprised that
he would think her so irresponsible.
     "Why, Athena?" he asked bewildered.
     "He was upset.." she started.
     "I know he was upset!" Apollo interrupted angrily.
     "Dr. Larous suggested he needed some normality around him, and with
you barely here.." she faltered, not sure how to say what it was she
needed to say. The arguments she had rehearsed for the past centar, while
waiting for Apollo, had all abandoned her, and she was now at a loss for
the right words. She had only intended to take one more problem from
Apollo's shoulders, yet she now feared he was taking it as an
unintentional criticism.
     Apollo could only sputtered at her comment. So many angry statements
fought to be first out his mouth, that he stumbled on them and couldn't
say a single one. What did Athena think he'd been doing all this time?
Shirking his responsibility to his son? They were still under a state of
alert. The Cylons could return at any moment. They had to get the fleet
moving. He didn't have the time right now to talk to Boxey. But he would.
As soon as he could, he would sit down and have that much needed talk
with his son. She knew that. She had to know that. "Athena, I've been
busy...."
     "I know, I know. I didn't mean to sound like you were doing anything
wrong." she tried to reassure him hastily.
     "Well then why?" he asked.
     "Apollo, it's just for the night. He just needs a little security.."
     "And you don't think I can give him that?" he asked, wounded.
     "No, of course not, but..," she took his hands in hers,
"You-are-busy. I'm only trying to help you and Boxey. He needs constant
reassurance right now and you need to be able to do whatever you need to
do, with out worrying about him."
     Apollo sighed and rubbed his temple. "I don't know.."
     "I do," she stated, trying to assure him this was alright.
     "Can I at least go and say good night to him?"
     "He's already asleep.." Athena said her, eyes apologetic.
     "Shit," he said as he sat down wearily on his couch.
     "You haven't done anything wrong," she said reassuringly as she sat
down next to him.
     Apollo sighed and leaned his head against the back of the couch.
"I'm not so sure about that."
     "I am." She watched him, then added, "Dr. Larous doesn't think so
either." Apollo threw a couch pillow at her for that.
     "You know how I feel about him," he said aggrieved.
     "I know." She agreed.
     "But you took him there anyway."
     "Yes."
     Apollo closed his eyes and took a calming breath. Then he looked
back over at Athena, "Okay."
     Athena smiled at him, then reach over and hugged him."Get some
sleep, Apollo, then maybe you can find some time to come by in the
morning and have breakfast with us." She got up and looked back at him.
     "I'll try," he said in answer to both her suggestions.
     So Athena had left, and Apollo had been left too upset to sleep. The
stack of reports on his desk had sat accusingly in a neat pile, so he
decided to lose himself in work, again.
     Only this time, it wasn't working. The image of Boxey, crying for
him to stay with him, kept replaying itself over and over in his mind.
Frustrated, he'd got up to make some coffee, hoping the stimulants in the
drink could turn off his unnerving memory and help him concentrate on the
reports.
     Now, lost in thought, he idly watched the steam rise from the dark
liquid in the cup. Dark. Death. In his mind, he could see the image of
the Dark Raider as it sat in the cordoned off hanger on Beta deck. A dark
sinister machine. As of yet, the scientist hadn't reported much that
would help them detect these silent death machines. The only bit of
information that they had managed to gain, had come from a dangerous
experiment that had left Dr. Wilker and two techs in need of Dr. Salik's
help. Sound. Somehow, the Cylons were using sound to distort how their
scanners perceived the radars. They had to find a way through this
technology, or they didn't stand a chance.
     He couldn't stop his mind from imagining a base ship, outfitted with
this technology and its Raiders undetectable, as they cut their way
through the fleet. He shook his head, trying to dispel the image of the
imagined massacre. They wouldn't stand a chance. He took a sip of his
coffee and the fiery temperature of the liquid immediately scalded his
tongue, effectively erasing the nightmare images from his mind.
     Apollo, disturbed, walked back to his desk. Setting his cup down, he
picked up the newest repair report. He had just begun to read it when the
door buzzer sounded. Apollo sighed, and looked up at the door, unwilling
to see who was there with more problems. He ran a hand through his hair,
picked up his cup and wearily got up.
     Sheba pressed the buzzer again and waited. Nervously, she twirled
the ends of her hair around one finger, then realizing what she was
doing, abruptly put her hands behind her back.
     The door slide open and Sheba looked up. Apollo seemed a bit
surprised to see her. "Apollo..I.." She hesitated, unsure of what to say
now that she was here and he was standing there, just staring at her.
     Sheba noted how exhausted he looked. He was still wearing the same
uniform she had last seen him in and carried a steaming cup of coffee in
one hand, while he ran the other through his already tousled hair. Dark
circles under his eyes only confirmed her theory that he hadn't slept.
     Eyes that now watched her, open and candid.
     She stared at him as she realized his defensives were down. His
barriers, those invisible walls that he put between himself and others,
were down.
     Her heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought it would jump up
into her throat and strangle her. She tentatively smiled at him as her
own defenses faltered, allowing the love she'd tried to ignore, shine out
through her eyes.
     His face seemed to clear of worry and a warm smile crept across his
face.
     Apollo watched bemused as Sheba paused, unnaturally flustered. When
she looked up at him, his breath caught in his throat as he saw the love
staring out at him through her eyes. He felt an answering ache in his
heart, and it was all he could do not to gather her up in his arms. Then
his smile faded as he recognized his feelings. No, he would not love
again; he couldn't take any more pain. Firmly, he stamped down the errant
feeling.
     Sheba watched, bewildered, as Apollo's eyes narrowed and the
barriers, which had been at bay, came crashing down. His face stiffened
and seeming turned to stone.
     "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" He asked stiffly.
     Sheba simply stared at him, unsure of what she had done. One moment
Apollo had been smiling warmly at her and then suddenly he was cold and
official. 'Lieutenant?'
     "I was wondering if we could talk?" she asked determinedly. It had
taken her a long time to get up the courage to come here tonight. Apollo
had been glad to see her. She would hold onto that. She wasn't going to
be intimidated.
     Apollo fought the urge to hold her close and let all the pain and
anguish fade away. But he couldn't; he'd just be trading one pain for
another.
     His smile was cold as he regarded her., "Can't it wait until
tomorrow? It's late and I'm really tired."
     Sheba was not prepared for this reception from him. She felt unsure
of herself, and she looked down uncertainly, trying to gather her
courage. Somewhere, deep inside, her stubborn pride balked at these
feelings. Challengingly, she looked up into his eyes. "No," she stated,
"No, it can't."
     With a reluctant sigh, Apollo moved to let her pass.
     As Sheba passed him, Apollo's senses were assaulted by the scent of
her. His blood seemed to boil under his skin. He turned from her and
violently hit the door sensor, closing the door. He hadn't slept much in
the past several days and he was losing his control over himself and his
emotions. He gulped his hot coffee, hoping it would help him regain some
of his control before he turned back to face her.
     Sheba walked to the middle of the room and took in the state of his
quarters. His desk was piled with reports and computer printouts. Data
disks, that had evidently at one time had been piled in a stack on the
floor, had fallen over and now were strewn across the floor in an oddly
neat line.
     In the low light of Apollo's quarters Sheba's oversensitive nerves
made her edgy. Warily, like some caged animal she turned back around to
face him. Apollo 's eyes sparkled in the low light near the door and she
found herself frozen to the spot as if captured in the hauntingly dark
gaze of a predator.
     For a moment, Apollo lost himself in her eyes, so bright in the dim
light, they drew him in. He took a step forward before he realized what
he was doing.
     Sheba held her breath as he took the step toward her, then Apollo
shook his head dispelling the moment.
     "O.K., what is so important that it can't wait until tomorrow?" His
voice was harsh even to his own ears. He needed to get her out of here
before he lost all control.
     Sheba flinched at his tone but did not give an inch. "WE can't."
     Apollo took a step back, as if struck. "Not now Sheba. I'm really
not up for this right now." Angrily, he strode past her to his desk, as
if this small barrier could protect him from the impending conversation.
     "Yes, now!" Sheba cried out as she followed him. "Apollo, you can't
just ignore this."
     "I can try." He gave a halfhearted laugh.
     "I'm not going to leave until you talk to me!" Sheba stopped in
front of the desk.
     Apollo closed his eyes. He was so weary. He didn't have the strength
in reserve for this argument. Afraid to look at her, he kept his eyes
closed and whispered, "Please leave Sheba."
     His words hit her as if it were a physical blow. Tears sprung up in
her eyes, but her fiery nature would not let her give up so easily.
Before he could turn from her again, Sheba rounded the desk to stand in
front of him. His eyes remained closed, as if he was afraid to look at
her. She placed her hands on either side of his head, drawing him down to
her. "I love you whether you like it or not." Quickly, she kissed his
lips, afraid he'd pull away at any moment.
     His eyes flew open as her lips touched his and Sheba saw what his
closed eyes were trying to conceal. Desire smoldered there. Desire and
something else, something that was trying desperately to hide. He stared
at her with a look she feared she'd never see again. It flooded her
senses and wrapped her in a warm blanket. She was spellbound by that
look, a look of love, that shown so vividly from his eyes.
     Unable to resist, he lowered his head, ever so slowly. His mind told
him to stop and back away, but his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling
her against him as he allowed his lips to lay claim to hers. It was as if
an electric charge had past between them, sparking a wave of desire that
flooded their senses. Sheba wrapped her arms around his neck to support
herself as she felt her knees weaken.
     Desperately, like the drowning man he was, Apollo used all of the
strength of will he had left to pull himself free of her lips. "No," he
gasped. Apollo tossed his head back in an attempt to increase the
distance between them, yet his grip on her only tightened.
     He was lost in the river of emotions that flooded through him.
Frantically, he held onto her as if she were a rock in that river. Afraid
to let go, lest he be swept away to drown in these unwanted emotions. "I
can't," he breathed.
     Sheba looked up at him, his struggle clearly visible. Somewhere in
the back of her mind, where the rational part of herself had been hastily
tossed, she told herself she should do as he asked and let him go. Yet,
the warrior in her would not so easily surrender such an advantage, and
she was not about to lose hers. Sheba pulled Apollo's head back down to
her. Just a breath away from her lips, he managed to resist.
     "Every good warrior knows when he has lost the battle, Apollo,"
Sheba whispered. "Love me."
     With her words, she saw his stubborn pride flare behind his eyes. He
pulled his head away, his smoldering eyes burning furiously back at her.
     Briefly, Sheba wondered if she'd over played her hand, but she had
been right, he had lost his battle. As Apollo's anger flared, it ignited
a chain reaction that turned the desire he'd been fighting into a
firestorm that swept him along. He placed his hands behind her head and
claimed her lips again, allowing the full heat of his passion to flood
her senses too. His battle lost, he surrendered himself to her fully.

     Exhausted, Sheba lay with her head resting upon Apollo's chest, her
body pressed against his. She could stay like this forever. She didn't
want anything to break this sweet moment, but she knew they needed to
talk. She lovingly drew her hand across his chest as she waited for him
to speak first. With her head pressed against him, she could hear his
heart beating and feel the rise and fall of each breath. She listend as
his breathing slowed and became more relaxed and regular. Finally, she
could hold her tongue no longer. "Apollo?"
     He didn't answer. She lifted her head up to see his expression, only
to find him sound asleep. With a cross between an exasperated sigh and a
laugh she sat up and looked down at him, wondering if she should be upset
or pleased. Then she smiled and lay down once again in the crook of his
arm, her head on his chest listening to the steady sound of his heart. He
had hardly slept at all. Well, at least she had gotten him to rest.
     She knew he was fighting this. His emotions were so unpredictable,
she was afraid to push him and yet even more afraid not to. She feared he
would once again be able to hide behind that wall where he sealed his
innermost feelings. Over the past yahren she had seen the cracks and had
worked her way through them. Now that she had found a way in, would he
acknowledge their love or continue to fight against it?
     She was angry with him for wasting time; time they could spend
together. Hadn' t the past few days shown how unpredictable their time
together was? She didn't want to waste a moment of it. With a heavy sigh
she closed her eyes, and for now, enjoyed this singularly precious
moment. Well, she had gotten more than she had planned on this night. He
could no longer deny he had feelings for her. With that secret smile she
drifted off to sleep.

The End