BATTLESTAR GALACTICA: Experiment In Terra
                                  By
                             Eric J. Paddon
                            Epaddon@aol.com
                     Based on an original teleplay by
                   Glen A. Larson and Donald Bellisario     

            Battlestar Galactica created by Glen A. Larson
    
             This is a work of fan-fiction and is not
            intended to infringe on any copyright laws

                 Battlestar Galactica: Experiment In Terra

                                 Prologue

     Adama always found it necessary to gather his inner strength and
collect himself before he activated the switch that would let him record
his journal entry.  From his standpoint, a firm voice was absolutely
essential when recording, so that any scholars in the distant future who
might have access to them, would hear the voice of a man who was
determined first and foremost to leave only an accurate, and honest
impression of how things had seemed at the time.
     Finally, he held up the microphone device and flicked the recording
switch on.
     "Three full cycles have passed since the escape of the prisoners
from the Terran Eastern Alliance.  In that time, as our alternating Viper
patrols continue to discreetly track Commandant Leiter's destroyer back
to its home base on Lunar Seven, we have received yet another grim
reminder of just how ruthless the Alliance is.  The corpses of the three
Borellian Nomen who assisted them in their escape, left to drift
eternally through space after being jettisoned from the destroyer. 
Evidently, the Nomen came to realize just how limited their prospects
were apt to be in a society that prides itself so much on the "natural
order" of its ability to dominate all other races, and paid the price for
that.  About the only positive thing this development brings for us, is
that it represents a further sobering realization by the Council of just
how badly they underestimated the Alliance's ruthlessness, which caused
so many of them to become their prisoners for a brief time.  I think,
chastened as they are now, that they are less apt to present any problems
for me in the immediate future as I attempt to grapple the deeper issues
the matter of the Alliance, and their enemies the Terran Nationalists
pose to us.  How strong is the Alliance?  Are they indeed close to
achieving total domination over the planet Terra?  And if so, does it
then become our obligation to directly intervene in this conflict as a
prelude to perhaps settling our population in this society, even though
the evidence uncovered by Apollo and Starbuck on Paradeen revealed that
Terra is not, in fact, the Thirteenth Colony Earth that we seek?
     "So many difficult questions for me to ponder at this time.  But
hopefully, I shall learn some answers soon, and the Lords of Kobol
willing, those will be the answers that will work best for the future of
our people."
     Adama then set the microphone down and switched the recorder off.  A
terse entry, compared to what he usually did, but sufficient for the task
on this day.
     The unicom sounded, which meant that the Bridge was calling.  He
wasted no time in answering it.  "Yes?"
     "Commander, Blue Squadron reports that the Alliance Destroyer has
evidently detected their monitoring.  They're trying to take evasive
actions to elude them."
     "Inform Captain Apollo to maintain pursuit at all costs, Colonel,"
Adama said, "We can not lose our fix on where Leiter's headed, if we're
to get some sense of what the typical strength of the Alliance is on
these satellite planets of theirs."
     "Sir," Tigh hesitated for an instant, "What if the destroyer starts
opening fire on our ships?"
     "Then they're to take the necessary evasive steps to insure their
safety, but under *no* circumstances is anyone to return fire.  The
entire purpose of the mission becomes not only useless if we destroyed
them, but it might also trigger a full-scale attack from the rest of
their forces that we don't yet know how strong could be.  Remind them of
that, Colonel!"
     "Yes sir.  Will relay your instruction immediately."
     Adama shut the intercom off and then decided it was necessary to add
more to his journal.
     "A postscript.  The ruthlessness the Alliance has shown by their
actions on Paradeen, in their escape attempt, and in their cold-blooded
murder of the Nomen, is a sad reminder to me of how the enlightened
values of justice and nobility that Colonial civilization has taken for
granted as a given in the human race, is totally lacking in this one
offshoot of humanity.  In that respect, it is perhaps a comfort to
already know that this offshoot is not the Thirteenth Tribe itself, but
at the same time it should give all of us pause as to what we might find
on that day when we discover the true Earth?  Will we find a society
built on those enlightened values that made us realize the nobility of
our effort in the struggle against the Cylons?  Or will we find a society
of humans that freed from any conflict with a species of alien life form,
instead develops the capacity to be brutal and barbaric as the Eastern
Alliance humans have done?"
     He then paused as he realized he needed to verbalize a question that
still baffled him.  "And of course, the final question that remains, is
that even if the Alliance and their fellow Terrans are not the Thirteenth
Tribe, what *does* account for their origins?  In some way, they must be
connected to the beginnings of human life on Kobol, but are we capable of
discovering that answer for ourselves?"
     And then, Adama switched off the recorder again, convinced that
there was nothing else left to say at this point, but to sit back and
wait for the answers to come.


     For the last three days, as the Alliance destroyer came closer and
closer to its home base on Lunar Seven, Commandant Leiter had grown
increasingly restless.  The disposal of the infernal Nomen had at least
given him a comfortable atmosphere in which to think and ponder his next
move once he and his men were safely home, but he realized that returning
home would mean having to deal with some awkward questions from his
superiors that he knew would be difficult to answer.  They would ask him
to explain why he had failed in his original mission objective to
apprehend the fugitives named Michael and Sarah and the four children who
had escaped with them.  They would ask him to explain how he could have
allowed himself to be taken prisoner by any other force in the universe. 
And they would also ask him to explain why he had failed to learn
anything about an escaped operative for the Nationalist government named
Charles Watts, who had engaged in numerous acts of sabotage on Lunar
Seven before fleeing in the same chaotic confusion that had seen Michael
and Sarah escape in their ship.  Even if they accepted his account that
one giant warship from another civilization existed close to their
domain, they might still choose to find fault in the way he had conducted
himself and take disciplinary action of a severe nature against him.
     Leiter knew he could keep up a tough facade before his immediate
superior, Group Commandant Kronstadt, who supervised all operations on
the planet.  The real problem though was that if Kronstadt proved to be
the slightest bit skeptical and relayed things further up the chain of
command in the Alliance hierarchy, some of the elite members of the
Alliance Politburo, including those who were close to the Supreme
Commandant himself, might decide that Leiter and his men needed to be
made an example of, so as to prevent future failures against the unknown
force represented by the Battlestar Galactica from happening again.
     "Commandant," Krebs broke Leiter's air of brooding, "We are being
pursued.  At least four  ships to our rear."
     "Evasive action!" Leiter barked, "I don't want them to be able to
track us back to our base!  I want full speed, now!"
     "Commandant," Krebs tried not to make it sound like he was
protesting, "Our fuel situation is-----."
     "Carry out your order, Krebs, or else you'll end up in the same
place those stinking Nomen ended up!" Leiter dropped his voice to a
menacing whisper.  The tone of voice that was always known to strike
intimidating terror in any subordinate.
     Without saying another word, Krebs nodded and gave the command to
the rest of the destroyer crew for full speed.


     "Apollo," Starbuck radioed as he and the other three vipers of Blue
Squadron maintained their pursuit, "They're picking up speed.  We can't
hold back on minimum power any longer if we want to keep our fix on
them."
     "Okay, Starbuck." Apollo acknowledged, "You increase your speed to
compensate, and stay on their current heading.  Giles, you and Dietra
move off on their flanks just in case they decide to take an evasive
course in their heading, and then we can intercept them right away.  I'll
maintain our present bearing so I can keep ourselves fixed on the Fleet
and once one of you has her sized up, we'll all rendezvous back in
formation."
     "Affirmative that, Apollo." Giles responded, "I'll take the port
flank, Dietra, you handle starboard."
     "Execute!" Apollo barked.  The other three vipers in Blue group then
moved out, leaving Apollo alone for now.
     God, I hope this rotation of patrols to keep track of Leiter's
destroyer won't last much longer.  Apollo thought as he gently managed to
rub his forehead as he felt a slight buzzing sensation.  It's gotten so
monotonous.
     Suddenly, Apollo realized that the buzzing sensation he'd been
hearing was not coming from inside his head.  It was coming
from.....somewhere behind him.
     "What the.....?" he managed to murmur, but then he found the sound
increasing in tone, becoming deafening.  The last sensation Apollo had
before he blacked out was that there was also something strangely
familiar about it as well.

                         Chapter One

     It only took Giles a matter of thirty microns from the time he had
left Apollo behind him to take up a new position that would put him in
place to pick up the Destroyer if it happened to take an evasive move to
port.  In that brief time, he'd found himself thinking how he'd been
expecting Apollo and Starbuck to be somewhat distant toward him on this
patrol.  Since Boomer was no longer part of Blue Squadron, and now
commanded Red Group, that meant Apollo and Starbuck wouldn't be able to
fly with their friend again, and he'd wondered if there'd be a trace of
inner resentment over that disruption from something they'd taken for
granted for so long.  But to his amazement, both Apollo and Starbuck had
treated him in as friendly and easy going a way as he could have hoped
for.
     Makes me feel ashamed I ever doubted them on that point, he thought
as he took up position and decided to radio Apollo.  "Blue Leader, this
is Blue Three.  No sign of action on their port flank.  How do the others
copy?"
     There was no response.  Giles frowned and decided to try again,
"Uh...Blue Leader, this is Blue Three, did you copy my last
transmission?"
     Still nothing.  Concerned, Giles decided he needed to break the
protocol that was normally called for when vipers were not flying
together in formation.  "Starbuck?  Dietra?"
     "Yo?" Starbuck chimed in, somewhat lackadaisically.
     "Either of you got a fix on Apollo?  I can't raise him."
     "What are you talking about?" the blonde warrior's voice suddenly
grew concerned.  "He's right behind us, he----,"
     "Starbuck, he's right," this from Dietra.  "I tried raising him too,
just now, and I get nothing."
     "Wait a micron, direct your rear scans back at where we just were!"
     "I'm doing that, Starbuck!" Giles said with an edge of frustration. 
"I'm getting nothing!  He's not there!"
     "Good Lord," now an edge of horror crept in Starbuck's voice, "Did
that Destroyer open fire or something?"
     "Negative that, negative!" Dietra interjected sharply, shaking her
head vigorously.  "I've got the Destroyer on the starboard flank from
where she was previously, and she hasn't opened fire at all.  There's no
one else out here but us three."
     "Then where in Hades did Apollo go?!" Starbuck exploded.
     "Do you think any of us have a fracking clue?" Giles retorted
sharply.
     "Can we calm down for just a centon?" Dietra felt the need to step
in and restore some order.  "We're not going to figure out what's
happened to Apollo if we act like this!"
     Starbuck slowly nodded and exhaled, "You're right, Dietra. 
Let's....oh frack, do we abandon monitoring the Destroyer so we can look
for Apollo?"
     "I've got the fix on the Destroyer, so maybe you two can widen the
perimeter to see if you can pick up Apollo."
     "Will do," Giles said, trying to let his professionalism return,  
"Rendezvous back in.....five centons?"
     "Sounds good to me," Starbuck grunted, "If we can't find him after
that long, we're probably never going to find him."

     Slowly, Apollo felt himself coming to and the first thing he became
aware of was a bright sensation of light that seemed
so......overpowering.  He hesitated to open his eyes too abruptly,
fearing that perhaps it would be blinding.  Instead, he opened them as
slowly as he could, and he noticed immediately that he was looking up to
a seemingly infinite ceiling, with no definable features.  Then, he
turned his head to his right and became aware of several white-garbed
figures with indistinguishable features.
     Where am I?  He thought.  And then, that strange feeling in the back
of his mind that there was something familiar about this place came to
him again.
     "Welcome back, Captain Apollo," a rich resonant voice spoke.  A
voice that Apollo didn't recognize at first, and yet......wasn't there a
time when he had heard it somewhere, somehow?
     "Welcome back....." Apollo muttered as he rose to a sitting position
and looked about, "Have I....been here before?"
     "Do you remember anything of your last visit?"
     "I----," Apollo shook his head slightly, "I'm not sure."
     "That is to be expected.  We did erase much of your memory of what
you experienced before.  It is perhaps best that as a temporary
expedient, we restore a partial awareness of some of the essential
details."
     Suddenly, Apollo became aware of a burst of light enveloping
him....and with it, came a restoration of forgotten memories.  Of a time
on a desolate planet of him challenging Count Iblis to save Sheba's life. 
Of him being.....struck down, and taken to this place where he'd been
miraculously restored somehow.  
     And then.....the memory of these beings being the ones responsible
for planting in his mind, and in Starbuck's and Sheba's, the general
course heading for Earth that the Galactica had been following ever since
that day.
     "Okay," Apollo said calmly, "I.....remember now.  But.....why have I
been brought back here?  I....have to get back to my ship!"
     "Actually, Captain, much depends on you not getting back to your
ship just yet."
     "What do you mean?" Apollo protested.
     "That can best be explained to you by one of our brethren, who will
be advising you in this task."
     "Task?" Apollo's bewilderment deepened.  "What task?"
     But there was no further response from the deep resonant voice. 
Instead, Apollo suddenly noticed one of the white-garbed figures walking
toward him.....and in an instant taking on new features.  Instead of one
of the cloaks with the shroud concealing the facial features, it was now
taking on a more recognizable human form.  The form of a handsome,
middle-aged man with silver-white hair.
     "Hello, Captain," his voice sounded cheery and friendly, but totally
unlike that of the resonant sounding being who had spoken before.
     "Who are you?" Apollo wished he could think of another question to
ask, but if this person wasn't one of the Beings, then he had to get that
matter straightened out now.
     "Captain, I'm sorry to keep the amenities short, but time is running
out for us, if we are to succeed in our task."
     "What task?" Apollo felt an edge of frustration creep in,
"Look.....I remember what you people are, and what you did for us before,
but.....why am I needed here again?  Is it......" he felt a rush of
horror come over him, "Has Count Iblis......."
     "This does not concern Count Iblis," the human looking man shook his
head, "He is still suffering the punishment we gave him as a result of
that incident."
     "Well, what then?" Apollo wished he could remember if there was some
higher religious significance attached to these Beings.  If he lost his
temper with them, would he be committing a sin?  Even though he was
beginning to feel a wall of impatience inside him, the last thing he felt
he should do was show it visibly.
     "All right," he smiled, "You can call me.....John.  And what you're
needed for Apollo, is to take advantage of what you've learned previously
to help the people of Terra."
     "Huh?"  Apollo didn't find any part of that answer helpful.  "Me,
help them?"
     "Yes, and to help yourself.  Now to facilitate your task, we will
help you get close to Terra as you can, without complication.  And
then.....the rest is up to you."
     "Wait!" Apollo protested as he saw John move away from, and he got
up to follow.  "John, that doesn't help me at all!  What do I know that
can help the Terrans, and just what is it I'm expected to do?"
     John stopped and looked at him with a dead serious expression,
"You're to do your best to try and stop a war, Apollo.  A war that you
already have come to know a great deal about, if you recall your
conversations with Michael on Paradeen, accurately."
     "Yes, I remember all that, but-----,"
     "Remember those conversations you had with Michael," John repeated
with emphasis.  "If you do that, then you will be able to form the plan
for what you must accomplish."
     "John, I don't understand, why can't you stop this war yourselves?"
     "Apollo," his tone became matter of fact, "If your memory of your
last visit has returned, think back to why it was possible for us to
restore you.  Therein lies the answer to why we, as the Guardians of the
Universe, can not possibly intervene in the manner you think we should."
     "I don't----," Apollo then shook his head violently as he felt the
tug of recollection come back to him.  "Free will.  The human capacity
for free will that you can not interfere with."
     "Exactly, Apollo.  Were we to intervene with a show of force and say
to the Terrans, stop your war, we would be guilty of the very thing that
justified our right to punish Count Iblis for his actions.  That is why
you are needed, Apollo, so you, of your own free will, with but a minimal
amount of enlightenment from us, can do your part to end this war!"
     Apollo lowered his head, "John, even if I were to.....understand
this, you are asking the impossible of me."
     "Not if you apply yourself, Apollo.  Rise to that which you are
capable of!  You learned the information that can play a great role in
bringing this about, but only if you remember it and apply it!"
     "Well what specific information would help?"
     "I'm sorry, Apollo.  You must remember that by your own volition,
now that I have pointed the general way.  That is all we can do, and from
there it is up to you."  He paused, "There is one further thing I will do
to help you.  When you arrive on Terra, you will meet some people who
will think you to be someone else.  The name of the person they think you
to be is not unknown to you.  When you hear it......you will
theoretically be able to apply yourself."
     "When I arrive on Terra," things were moving too fast for Apollo. 
"How?"
     "In due time.  The only other detail I'll give you is that the
person they'll think you to be is alive but in captivity for the time
being.  That information you must know in case circumstances will require
you to reassume your true identity before the Terrans."
     "How's that again?" Apollo right now wished he had Starbuck
alongside to at least give him some one-liners that could break the
tension he felt in the air, that his befuddlement was generating.
     "I've given you all that you can know in my capacity to advise,
Apollo," John's tone grew to its most serious, "And now.....your task
begins!"


     Apollo felt himself blink, and the next thing he knew was the
sensation of being back inside the cockpit of his Viper. 
     "A dream," he said aloud, "Just a dream."
     But then, he looked down and suddenly saw that his uniform was a
solid white color.  Just as it had been inside that gigantic Ship of
Lights.
     "Oh Lord," he whispered as the magnitude of it all came back to him. 
And then, he felt that weight on his shoulders increase when he saw
before him the sight of a large planet.  By far the most beautiful planet
he could recall seeing in all the sectars since the Colonies had been
left behind.  This planet showed many signs of teeming life just from one
glance.
     "Terra," he whispered, "That's Terra.  The source of all our
shattered hopes and dreams that this was the Thirteenth Tribe."
     He shook himself out of his stupor as he realized that if he was
actually flying his Viper again, then that meant all of his equipment
should be functioning.  And that would include the one thing he had left
that could help him signal back to his frantically worried fellow
warriors.....but only if they had still maintained their position all
this time.  He knew what the maximum range of a distress beacon signal
was, and by his reckoning, the vipers of Blue Squadron would still be
able to receive it from this far out, but not the Galactica itself.
     "Starbuck, you'd better still be there," he said as he pressed the
button.


     Five centons had elapsed since Starbuck and Giles had left Dietra to
broaden their search for Apollo.  Now, the three Vipers had rendezvoused
with each other, with a glum, sickening sensation.
     "What do we do now?" Giles verbalized forlornly.
     Before Starbuck could form his answer, he suddenly saw a blip emit
on the fringe edge of his scanner.
     "Giles!  Dietra!  You see that?"
     "Yes, I got it!" the relief was evident in Dietra's voice. 
"Long-range distress signal.  That's got to be him!"
     "Wait a micron," Giles wasn't sure if he could celebrate just yet,
"If that's Apollo, then how in Hades did he get that far out of range in
just five centons?  He's well past Lunar Seven's general vicinity,
he's......" he stopped to recalibrate, "Starbuck, he must be damned close
to Terra by now!  There's no way he could get back on a normal fuel load
if that's him, so how......"
     "All right, hold on a centon, hold on!" Starbuck cut him off, "I'm
in acting command of this group now, so I give the orders, Giles.  Now,
let's see, compensating......if I power down to minimum speed, I can
maximize my flight time to twenty nine centars......."
     "Starbuck, if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, you
wouldn't make it in a million yahrens.  You'd have to fly past at least
six satellite planets past Lunar Seven."
     "Well if I have to, then I'll stop and steal myself some extra
fuel!" Starbuck snapped.  "You got any better suggestions?  If that's
really Apollo out there, and there's no rational explanation that could
explain a Colonial distress beacon if it isn't him, then the normal
flight time for the Fleet to reach Terra is probably a minimum of a whole
sectan given the speed the Fleet has to move.  A shuttle couldn't make it
even powered down from where the Fleet is right now, so that means I've
got to take this risk, since there's no telling what might happen to
Apollo in the meantime!" he paused and then lowered his voice, "That's my
command judgment, Giles.  Your job is to notify the Fleet, and then
resume your monitoring of Leiter's destroyer to Lunar Seven and get that
report on immediate Alliance strength in the vicinity."
     "Starbuck, this is a one-way mission you're taking."
     "Nothing I take is one-way, Giles, and don't you forget it.  Now are
you going to follow my orders, or do I tell Dietra to put you on report
for insubordination?"
     There was an uneasy silence punctuated only by Dietra finally
speaking up, "Standing by, Starbuck.  Ready to follow through."
     "All right," Giles sighed with defeat, "Godspeed, Starbuck."
     "Nice way of putting it, Giles.  I'll need His help and a *lot*
more," Starbuck said as he took his Viper off on a new heading that would
take him closer to that distant region of space where Apollo's signal was
emanating from.


     Apollo felt the tension inside him increase as he brought his Viper
through the atmosphere into what he realized had to be some sort of
pre-programmed set of coordinates the Guardians had meant for him to
arrive at on Terra.  He wondered what sight he'd be greeted to once he
cleared the cloud cover, and found himself praying that it wouldn't be a
heavily populated area filled with all kinds of airborne traffic.
     To his relief he saw that he was headed into a mountainous, rocky
area during the night cycle.  There was nothing of note around him as far
as his naked eye could detect.  But a quick glance back at his scan beam
revealed readouts indicating high levels of technology and life forms. 
The heart of Terra was yet to be seen by him.
     He brought his Viper to a stop, and cautiously popped open the
canopy.  He knew he didn't have anything to worry about as far as the
atmosphere was concerned since he remembered how Terra's air had to be of
the same concentration as Caprica and the other Colonies had been.  That
had been the reason why Terra was a place where Michael and the other
inhabitants of the thinner-aired satellite planets could never set foot
on the home planet of their own ancestors.
     "Well," Apollo said aloud as he dropped his helmet back in the viper
and moved cautiously forward,   "What now?"
     No sooner were the words out of his mouth when he suddenly heard the
sound of a fast moving transport vehicle approaching, with two headlight
beams shining at him.  In an instant, Apollo stepped in front of the
oncoming vehicle with his arms raised in the air, hoping to get the
attention of whoever was driving it.
     Only at the last instant did the driver finally see Apollo and put
on the brakes, causing the vehicle to skid to a stop just a matter of a
metrone or so from where Apollo stood on the rocky roadway.  In the dark,
Apollo could make out little of the vehicle's features, except that it
had the general characteristics of a hovermobile, only much more
primitive.
     "Hello!" Apollo said aloud, "Please don't be alarmed!"
     Suddenly the window of the vehicle rolled down and Apollo saw the
face of a beautiful young woman with short, thick light colored hair.  A
face that instantly looked back at him in surprised recognition.
     "Charlie!" she abruptly opened the door of her vehicle and got out.
     "Charlie?" Apollo muttered under his breath, wondering what kind of
name that was....and why it seemed familiar.
     "It's like seeing a ghost!" she impulsively threw her arms around
him and gave him a warm hug, her voice filled with relief.  
     "Uh....yeah, well, that's entirely possible," Apollo could think of
nothing else to say aloud.  Inside, his mind was going, John, help!!!
     "Get inside, I'll take you to my place," the beautiful woman
released her hold on him, motioning him to the other side of the vehicle. 
Tentatively, Apollo moved around and pulled open what he guessed to be a
doorhandle, and stepped inside.  The seats were made of a soft, leather
material that he could remember being standard on old hovermobiles that
he'd once seen in a Transport Museum back on Caprica.
     Fifth millennia technology, or maybe.....near to the sixth?
     "You don't know how much of a relief it is just to see you again,"
the woman slipped inside the vehicle and started the ignition.  They
began to move out, with Apollo casting a furtive glance back at where his
Viper was parked, wondering what was going to happen to it, and whether
he was ever going to have a chance of seeing his home again.  "I actually
thought you were dead, and then I get this call in the middle of the
night to pick you up in the middle of nowhere."
     "You....knew I'd be there?" Apollo decided to pick his words
tentatively.
     "Well, yes, that's what your call said!  Don't you remember?"  She
glanced over at him with suspicion.
     "Um...sorry, I've been through a rough going," Apollo sighed.
     "I'll bet," she glanced back at him again, "Where'd you get that
get-up?  Were you at a costume party or something?"
     Apollo glanced down at his white Colonial uniform.  If she could see
that, then how could she be seeing someone she immediately recognized? 
Do I look like this guy she thinks I am, or did John alter my appearance
or what?  Frack, why couldn't he give me some clearer instructions than
this???
     "My ah.....ship crashed."
     "Oh," the concern returned to her voice, "And you've been wandering
around the desert all this time.  So----," she frowned, "Where'd you find
a phone to call me?"
     "Phone?" he drew a blank on the term.
     "Are you sure you're all right?"
     "I'm....just very confused right now," which was exactly the truth
from Apollo's perspective.
     "Honey, I'm going to take you to a hospital, you sound delirious."
     Uh-oh, isn't that supposed to be some kind of term of endearment
some people use?  If I'm supposed to be her boyfriend or husband, this is
going to be worse than I could have imagined!
     "No, ah...no!  Look, is there ah.....some place private we could go,
so I can catch my bearings?"
     "Charlie, I think you need medical help."
     "No, I feel fine!  Believe me.  Just....my head's a bit scrambled
right now.  I need a little time to think ah.....ah....what was your
name?"
     She looked at him in disgust and shook her head, "Amnesia."
     "Amnesia, that's a----," Apollo suddenly stopped as he remembered
that amnesia was a medical term for memory loss.  "Um....I'm sorry, I ah. 
I'm so mixed up there's been a pretty large stretch where I'm not even
sure I remember my own name anymore."
     "Charlie Watts, I ought to just throw you out of this car right
now," she gripped her hands on the wheel, her teeth clenched in disgust.
     In a flash, Apollo suddenly remembered.  His conversation with
Michael on Paradeen, when the technician had related how he and Sarah and
their children had been able to escape in their ship from Lunar Seven. 
And how they had been helped by an operative for the Nationalist
Government who had been investigating the Alliance's conduct on the
satellite planets.  Colonel Charles Watts.  It has to be the same man!
     "Look, ah, sorry, but.....you don't have any idea of where I've
been!  I mean, I've been on some very important.....business, and......"
he stopped as he realized that at this point, he couldn't be sure just
who Watts's allies on Terra had been.  And if this woman was someone who
would have known about the missions he'd been sent on.  "All I'm asking
is that you just get me some place where I can collect myself.  I saw
some....pretty horrible things where I was."
     "Okay," her voice softened.  "I'll take you to my apartment.  Will
that be fine?"
     "Sure," he nodded and then decided to take a chance, "Have
you....done anything special with the place since I was.....last there?"
     For the first time, she seemed to relax.  "Nope.  Kept it just the
way you always liked it.  So you should feel right at home."
     "Well that's good," slowly, Apollo felt his confidence building up
as far as his ability to play the part of someone else was concerned.  He
was beginning to see more clearly just how the Guardians approach worked. 
They could give him a push in the right direction, but it had been up to
him, of his own independent train of thought, to recall the name Charles
Watts from his talk with Michael.
     I hope I can keep up this facade for as long as I have to.


     "Commandant," Krebs reported, "We will be on Lunar Seven within the
hour."
     "Excellent," Leiter finally began to feel better for the first time
in a very long while.  "Have you raised Alliance Headquarters?"
     "Yes.  Group Commandant Kronstadt will be waiting for you at the Air
Station."
     "For *us*, Krebs," the commander said coldly.  "I expect all of you,
I repeat *all* of you to validate what I will have to say to the Group
Commandant.  Is that understood?"
     "Commandant," Krebs said gently, "The instruction was that he wished
to see only you, and that our presence was not required."
     Leiter stared at his subordinate with a haughty air, but his silence
was an indicator of just how much that information had just staggered
him.  Without saying anything, he turned and retreated to the other end
of the Destroyer.


     "They've reached Lunar Seven," Giles radioed to Dietra, who was
hanging further back.  "I'm taking a scan now of the planet and getting
all the infrared imagery we can use to record just how many destroyers
are based there."
     "Don't take too long.  We need to hightail it back to the Galactica
now!"
     "Don't I know it," Giles grunted.  "I wonder how they've reacted to
the news about Apollo and Starbuck?"


     The vehicle stopped in front of a multistory building that was
situated in the heart of what looked like a thriving city to Apollo. 
Nowhere near as advanced as a Caprica City had been for him, but compared
to the conditions he'd been enduring in the Fleet for so long the sight
of a human community in this kind of place was the closest thing to home
he could have imagined under the circumstances.
     "Charlie?" the woman looked at him with a suspicious air once again. 
"Are you *really* sure you don't want to see a doctor?"
     "Yes, I'm sure," he knew he couldn't risk losing his temper with
her.  "I just want to get inside and......relax."
     "Okay," her tone was indifferent as she opened the door, "Let's go
inside."
     He followed her in, and he could tell from her rapid pace and the
expression on her face that she was feeling very unpleasant right now. 
The chill in the air was quite palpable.
     Well who can blame her?  She thinks she's with someone she knows and
probably loves, and here I am pretending to be that guy, and I still
don't know what her blasted name is!
     She stepped through a set of sliding doors that revealed a spacious
looking two story dwelling and without breaking stride headed for the
other side of the room.  "I need a drink," her tone was still cold.
     Apollo found himself impressed.  Now that he could see things more
clearly in the light, he guessed that the overall state of Terran
technology was probably no more than 700 yahrens behind Colonial
technology overall.  At least in terms of basic technology for living
arrangements.  It was in weaponry and the size of space vehicles where
the difference was more obvious.
     "I always like coming here," he decided that was a safe enough
remark.
     She looked over at him quizzically as she poured herself a glass of
red liquid.  "Do you now?  I sure hadn't gotten that impression recently. 
I had the feeling you thought of our relationship as just a big one night
stand."
     "Oh come on," Apollo said as he made his way forward and tried to
summon some bravado, but all the time thinking that this was something
Starbuck would have been more capable of pulling off.  "I never thought
of it that way at all.  I mean....I wouldn't have turned to you for help,
if I'd felt that way, would I?"
     She looked at him and her expression softened again, "Maybe not.  Or
maybe all your other girlfriends just hung up on you first?"
     Apollo smiled weakly, the only reaction he could summon since he had
no idea what that expression meant.  And then, he caught a glimpse of
himself in a mirror on the wall and frowned.  He saw his own reflection
staring back at him, which didn't make any sense to him.  If this woman
thought he was Charles Watts, then surely he would have been made over to
look more like him.  Unless by some freakish coincidence he was a total
dead-ringer for the man.
     If I am, is that the reason why the Guardians picked me for this?
     "Look, I ah....." Damn it, couldn't I at least know her name?  I
could wing this a lot better if I just knew that!
     Suddenly, he became aware of a voice whispering in his ear, "Her
name's Brenda.  That's all I can tell you."
     "John?  That you?"
     "Apollo, watch yourself.  Only you can see me, she can't."
     "Who are you talking to, Charlie?"
     Apollo whipped his head back to her.  "Oh!  Ah, no one
ah....Brenda."
     "So glad you finally remembered," she folded her arms and said
sarcastically.
     "No.....just talking to myself."
     "You really need help."
     "No, no, please.  Please!  I need to talk to my....superiors.  You
see," he struggled.
     "Come on Apollo, think back," he heard John's voice in his ear
again.
     "Let me think!" Apollo hissed, forgetting himself again.
     "I've been cutting you slack all night long, and you're getting
nuttier by the minute!" the woman named Brenda suddenly flared her
nostrils.  
     "Well......Brenda, please.  You know the kind of work I do. 
Things.....happen."
     "Don't you think I know that?" she folded her arms, "Growing up in a
military family, I've had to deal with that all my life."
     "Well then you also have to know what it's like when you do some
serious work, and then you feel kind of.....torn up because you know that
security keeps you from talking about it to the people you feel closest
too."  Apollo could scarcely believe he was able to keep up the charade
this far.  But he also knew that the discipline in being a warrior and
being able to react under pressure was the very thing that was helping
him get through this tricky situation.
     Brenda lifted an eyebrow.  "Now that's a new come-on from you. 
But....." she suddenly smiled, "I have to admit, I kind of like that."
     At that instant, Apollo didn't know if he should relax or feel even
more awkward if this was going to turn into a night of unplanned romance.
     "Tell you what," her voice grew softer, "Why don't I just change my
clothes, and.....we can relax some more."
     "Sure," Apollo nodded warmly, "You do that.  Just.....don't go
calling anyone important just.....yet."
     "Hey," Brenda smiled, "Wasn't I the one who was always honest in our
relationship?"
     "You tell me," he delivered his line in the way he was sure Starbuck
would have done and smiled cockily.
     She placed a hand on his cheek, "You're still the same even when
your brain is scrambled.  I'll be right back."
     She disappeared up the stairs to the second level and into a nearby
room.  When she was gone, Apollo let out a long sigh of relief that
things were holding together for now.
     "Well done, Apollo.  You're demonstrating how you might have had a
fine career in the dramatic arts."
     "John, don't make me keep this up too much longer," Apollo tried to
keep his voice low.  "I don't want to get involved with this.....Brenda."
     "You're a long ways from fulfilling your task, Apollo," John said
gently.  "But you do see how important it is for the people of Terra to
believe you're Charlie Watts?"
     "Well....sort of.  I remember what Michael said about who he is."
     "And?" John gently prodded, "Is that all you remember?"
     "Well......yeah.  I mean, Michael said he was on some kind of
mission for the Nationalist government."
     "Do you remember what the mission was?"  John's voice grew in
emphasis.  "Think, Apollo.  This is the key to your being able to use the
identity of Watts to gain access to important people in the Terran
government.  And combine that with what else you know of the Alliance
from your own personal experience.  Does it then become clearer?"
     "I-," Apollo struggled as he tried to reconstruct the entire
conversation with Michael in his head.  But so much had happened since
then.  The rest of the experience in Paradeen, which had involved
rescuing Starbuck from the depths of the destroyed city, the
disappointment over discovering that Terra wasn't Earth, the capture of
the Alliance prisoners, and then the matter of their escape which Baltar
had engineered.  With all of that, it was so difficult for his mind to
recall every last detail that Michael had spoken.  "Yes, I see your
point, but.....please tell me!"
     "There are limits to what I can do, Apollo," John shook his head, "I
told you about that."
     "Yes, I know.  I know!  But can you at least....advise me a little
better?  How can this Watts be an exact lookalike for me?"
     "He isn't," John admitted.  "If anything, he more resembles your
friend Starbuck."
     "Great.  Why didn't you recruit him for this?"  He grew sarcastic.
     "Because Starbuck is less prone to remember the things you're
capable of remembering, Apollo," John said, "Believe me, we took all
those variables into consideration based on our past knowledge of you
both."
     "Yeah, I guess you did."  Apollo sighed.
     "Talking to yourself again?"
     Apollo looked up and saw Brenda emerge from the second level room. 
She had changed from the tunic and trousers she'd been wearing before
into a flowing pinkish-orange gown that enhanced her attractiveness
greatly.
     He got to his feet and smiled, "Just.....gathering my thoughts."
     "Then I hope you won't mind if I.....distract you just a little
bit?" she put her arms around him and then kissed him on the lips. 
Although Apollo was taken aback slightly, the last thing he knew he
should do was resist.  At the same time though, he had no intention of
reciprocating overtly.  Not if he could avoid it.
     "Depends on how far you want to distract me."
     "Well....maybe not all the way.  After all, you did walk out on me
six weeks ago."
     Weeks.  That's one of those old Gemonese language time units the
Terrans keep using.  How long is that......sectans?  If it's six of
those, that would put it about the time that Watts helped Michael and
Sarah get off Lunar Seven.
     "It wasn't another woman, believe me.  It was the job."
     "Yes, yes, your job.  I guess you went through a lot." she paused,
"I guess you don't even know about my father."
     "No," Apollo said quickly.
     "He's missing in action." she sighed and went over to a table where
she picked up what looked like a photographic image to Apollo.  It showed
a man in early middle age with the same light hair that Brenda had.  "For
nearly four weeks now."
     "I'm sorry."
     Apollo heard the sound of a door chime, and he abruptly tensed. 
"Who is that?"
     "Oh, don't be so paranoid," she laughed and went over to answer it. 
"It's just my regular dinner service.  You didn't think I'd be up to
cooking tonight, did you?"
     But when the door opened, Apollo didn't see an attendant bearing
food.  Instead, he saw two uniformed men holding what he knew to be
Terran firearms.
     "Hold it Colonel!" the first one, who had a thick moustache said,
"Don't make a move."
     Frack!  Apollo thought, knowing he couldn't dare try anything in
this situation.  He glared over at Brenda, "Thanks a lot, Brenda.  You
obviously were doing a lot more upstairs than just slipping into
something more comfortable."
     "Charlie," she said sympathetically, "I was thinking of you.  You
need some help."  
     "No," he shook his head, "You need help.  All of you." suddenly a
flash of memory of the conversation came back to him.  "I was away on an
important mission for the government.  I found out things about the
Alliance that......."
     "The Alliance?" the first guard scoffed, "Colonel, I know you
hotshot soldiers are all up in arms over the peace talks, but you need to
get with it and realize that you boys are going to be out of a job soon. 
Now don't make this any harder on us, and just come with us right now."
     "Let me talk to someone in authority!"
     "You're not well, Colonel.  Now if you don't come quietly, we'll be
forced to shoot."
     Apollo let out an exasperated sigh and knew he had to follow them. 
As he passed Brenda, he stared at her again, "If you really think there's
going to be peace between us and the Alliance, you're living in a dream
world, Brenda."
     "You're just like Daddy," she sighed, "Too much the determined
soldier.  I guess that's why he had to go off on some crazy mission of
his own to disappear in."
     But as the door closed and Brenda found herself all alone in her
apartment, she found herself pacing back and forth with an uneasy
sensation.
     I hope to God I did the right thing.

                         Chapter Two

     "That's the full report, Commander," Giles said grimly.  "Starbuck
is going in there powered down to try and reach Apollo's position, but
honestly I don't see how he has any realistic chance of making it unless
he stops on one of the satellite planets before Terra to refuel himself."
     "I see," Adama hand his hand on his chin, his expression grim,
"Thank you for your report, Giles."
     The Commander switched the vidcom to the Landing Bay off and turned
to Tigh with an air of disgust.  "This complicates things more than I
could have imagined."
     "If what he said is true, then Starbuck will have to stop on a
planet where there's a major Alliance presence in place just to keep
going," the executive office noted, "I guess at this point, it doesn't
look too good for either of them."
     Adama tried not to glare at Tigh for sounding such a pessimistic
note, "Right now, Colonel, what we have to determine is whether a change
in our plans is necessary."
     "How so?" 
     "I want full analysis of the telemetry data Giles took regarding
Lunar Seven.  What I do next is going to be determined by how many
destroyers are on the planet closest to the rest of the Fleet right now. 
And I want that analysis completed in the next centar."
     

     Apollo had been taken to a prison complex somewhere on the other
side of the city.  It was only then, that his com-line and laser pistol
were finally stripped from him, leaving him powerless, and unable to
communicate with any would-be rescuer from the Galactica.
     Great.  What else?
     He spent the next thirty centons getting a physical examination from
the prison doctor, a heavyset man named Vandenberg.  Through it all,
Apollo kept silent.  Silence on his part enabled his mind to more clearly
remember the details of what Michael had told him about Charlie Watts,
and about the situation on Terra.  And now, he was beginning to realize
just what forces in the Nationalist Government  were likely responsible
for his current predicament.
     When the physical examination was over, Apollo saw the heavyset,
mustachioed guard who had arrested him, lead him down a corridor to a
cell block area.  Apollo noticed how it wasn't too dissimilar from the
kind of holding area one might see in the Galactica's brig.  The guard
shoved him in, and then threw him a cold, taunting smile.
     "Oh, by the way, Colonel, just in case you're thinking of escaping."
     And then, he tossed a small object at him which suddenly exploded
when it made contact with a force field beam that separated the distance
between Apollo and freedom.  
     "Fun, eh?"  The guard kept smiling before he turned and walked away,
leaving Apollo alone in his cell but not, he realized, alone in the cell
block.  Directly across from him, he could see a short balding man in
what looked like a formal uniform staring back at him.
     "Colonel Watts, I presume?"
     "Yeah," Apollo decided to keep playing the game for now.
     "I had a feeling I'd be seeing you sooner or later," the man sighed. 
"Maybe I should fill you in on all the things you probably don't know
yet."
     "Please.  I'm all ears."  Apollo felt grateful that someone was
going to just volunteer information to him at this point.


     Starbuck took another look at his fuel gauge and winced.  Even
powered down, he was using up more reserves than he'd hoped to use at
this point, and at this point the source of the beacon still seemed so
frustratingly far away.
     I am going to have to set her down somewhere first.  But where?
     He recalibrated his scan of the area that he was sure constituted
the satellite worlds closer to Terra, based on the chart information he
had stolen from the destroyed archives on Paradeen.  There were three
large planets in the Terran system, and according to Hector and Vector,
the first Terran satellite, Lunar One was technically number three in the
immediate system, whereas the other satellite outposts were more distant
lesser planets.
     Maybe Lunar One is my best bet to refuel, he thought.  We'll try for
there.


     In the heart of the Nationalist Government's capital city sat the
Presidium Building where all of the government agencies and offices were
housed.  From the uppermost floor, the President of the Nationalist
Government commanded the most thorough view of the city, giving him a
chance to look down on the bright lights of a city trying to go through
the normal routines of life, even though it had been forced to live under
the constant threat of war for so many years.
     I want to keep it looking that way.  That's why, God forgive me,
I've had to do what I must do.  Or else this city would one day lie in
total ruins from the endless and senseless war.
     "Mr. President?"
     He turned around and saw the dour expression of his Chief of Staff,
entering the room.
     "Art," he turned around and said with disgust, "Will you kindly
explain this report I get that Colonel Charles Watts showed up here on
Terra and had to be taken into custody?"
     "Mr. President-,"
     "You gave me your word, that he was on Lunar One, safely in
custody!"
     "Information from Lunar One is rather sketchy, ever since the
Eastern Alliance attacked the planet, Mr. President," he said simply. 
"Perhaps he escaped and was able to find a ship to get him back to
Terra."
     "He's a bigger miracle worker if that's the case.  The Alliance
practically annihilates everything in its path with their destroyers that
we send out to our satellite planets, and in those areas where they end
up controlling things....." he trailed off and shuddered.  
     "Well regardless of how, he's here and being held in custody here in
the city."
     "Who else knows?"
     "Only my guards and his girlfriend, General Maxwell's daughter. 
I'll see to it that she's handled."
     "Good, good," he nodded, "It's unfortunate it has to come to that,
but.....it's necessary."
     "Yes," there was an edge of disdain in the Chief of Staff's voice
that he tried to keep as concealed as he possibly could.  "There is one
other thing.  Earlier this evening, an unidentified flying craft
penetrated our airspace."
     "An Alliance ship?"
     "Unknown.  Our interceptors tried to find out more but they lost it
on their radar.  It was too fast for them."
     "It was probably an optical illusion," the President scoffed.  "Or
flying fatigue.  The Presidium is so convinced that there's going to be
an Eastern Alliance sneak attack they have our boys in the air night and
day."
     "Maybe.  Should there be a repetition of the incident, I am prepared
to send in ground teams to investigate."
     "Do what you must." he turned away.
     "Mr. President," the Chief of Staff called after him, "About the
Presidium.  It might be a good idea to inform them at last about the
extent of the damage the Alliance has caused to our outposts."
     The President angrily glared at him, "Mr. Moore, unless you want to
end up in detention with the rest of our disloyal opposition you will
respect my wishes!  I have no intention of allowing that body of
warmongers the ability to interfere with my peace treaty with the Supreme
Commandant!  I have invested so much in this!  For the last five months
since we first began negotiations, and for the last three months since I
first encouraged all agencies of the press to report on how high the
prospects for peace in our time are now!  I am not going to let the loss
of.....insignificant holdings deny the security all of Terra has sought
for centuries!"
     The Chief of Staff did not change his expression.  "Mr. President,
you know my loyalty to you is beyond challenge."
     "Then help me, damn it!" he barked, "Help me from those warmongers
who'd hurtle us into an abyss that would end all life on this planet! 
Think of that!  For the sake of what happens to people on satellite
worlds who could never visit Terra because the air is too thick for them
to handle, our population must somehow be exterminated?  Madness!  Just
as this war has been since the beginning!"
     The Chief of Staff let out a rueful sigh, "Yes, Mr. President."  And
then he turned and was gone.


     Starbuck could see coming before him a planet that showed signs of a
devastated landscape.  The scanning indicators revealing that very
recently, a pitched battle had been fought.  Fires still smouldered in
many corners, and there were also indications of very few active life
readings.
     Looks like the Alliance has been here, he thought as he readjusted
his scan to look for deposits of tylium, solium or any fuel resource he
could use to give his Viper a much needed boost.
     He finally locked onto a source that on further scan revealed it to
be located in what had to be some kind of depot.  Feeling good, he gently
brought his viper in for a landing that would place him right next to the
facility.
     When Starbuck's viper entered the atmosphere conditions of Lunar
One, he saw a sight as horrible as the scan readings had indicated.  The
surface was pockmarked with blast damage from heavy bombardment, and he
could see dozens of fires snaking upward that in the night conditions
gave him an eerie flashback to what the scenes of devastation on Caprica
had looked like on the night of the Cylon attack.  He needed more than a
micron to push that out of his mind, and with it, the painful memory of
taking one last survey of the Caprican surface where he'd seen the house
of his onetime girlfriend Aurora gone altogether, leaving him with no
doubt that she was dead.
     Starbuck finally brought his viper to a halt within mere metrones of
what his scanner revealed to be a large storage tank.  All he would need
to do is check to see if there was an adapter unit that would let him fit
his own ship's fuel slot to any fueling mechanism that existed in the
facility.
     As he popped open his canopy and prepared to step out, he suddenly
heard an angry voice.  "Hold it right there."
     Starbuck looked down and saw the face of a ruggedly handsome man
with blonde hair like his own.  He was wearing what looked like black
uniform pants but no top garment.  A ragged beard stubble and several
noticeable bruises and cuts lined his body indicating that he'd just gone
through a harrowing experience.
     "Hey, take it easy," Starbuck smiled, "I'm one of the good guys."
     "Are you now?" the man was pointing a firearm at him.  "I'll bet you
used that pretty flying machine of yours to help blast this whole damn
complex to kingdom come, didn't you?"
     "No, not at all, I was just on my way to Terra when I found I needed
to fill my tank up."  Starbuck kept his tone disarming.
     The man suddenly chuckled and lowered his firearm, "You know....I'm
inclined to believe you, because Alliance thugs don't have a sense of
humor like you do.  But if you're not one of them, just where the Hell
did you come from?"
     "From a long ways off," Starbuck said.  "I've been out to Paradeen
recently."
     "Paradeen?" his eyes widened, "What do you know about Paradeen?"
     "A lot," Starbuck's tone grew serious.  "I saw firsthand what the
Alliance did there.  A whole city left to crumble to ashes with all the
people left for dead."
     "Is there anyone still alive on that planet?" his tone grew more
anxious.  "A young man, a woman and some children?"
     Starbuck frowned, "You wouldn't be talking about a couple
named.....Michael and Sarah would you?"
     "Yes!" he suddenly exclaimed., "Yes!  Did you meet them?  Are they
safe?"
     "Yeah, they're safe."  Suddenly, Starbuck began to remember details
from the night when Michael had revealed everything to Apollo and him. 
"What's your name?"
     "Watts!  Charles Watts, I----,"
     "Yeah, I've heard of you," Starbuck nodded, "Michael mentioned your
name.  Frack, what happened to you?"
     "Frack?" he frowned, "Well, as you can see, I made it to Lunar One
to try and finish my mission, but......my treasonous joke of a President
had other plans and saw to it I was arrested."
     "Wait a centon," Starbuck held up a hand, "Your own government had
you arrested?  You weren't a prisoner of the Alliance?"
     "Centon?" he frowned again and went on, "No, my job was to bring
back a report to some elements in the Nationalist government who know
what our President's been up to.  He wants to suppress all information
about Alliance activities to keep the war fervor down, and so he can
strike a peace treaty with them that he actually thinks will keep Terra
safe from any devastation in the future."
     "And you found out too much, and that's why you were captured?"
     "Unfortunately," he sighed, "I was betrayed by someone in our own
ranks.  We've got people in our government who will gladly do the
Alliance's bidding if it brings about their definition of 'peace.'   
I've been locked up in here for the last two weeks but after the Alliance
destroyers attacked the planet last night, I was able to break out."
     "Good for you," Starbuck was impressed by the man's daring.  There
was much in him he could easily relate to.  "What about other people here
on the planet?"
     Watts shook his head,   "I have no idea.  I was just spending enough
time trying to stay hidden and look for a way off this place.  Then, you
had the good sense to show up." he looked over Starbuck's viper with an
impressed air, "That's a beautiful machine you've got there.  Can you
squeeze me in the back and maybe get me to Terra?  There are some people
I need to talk to and warn before it's too late.  The Alliance just might
end up launching a whole sneak attack on the Nationalist cities of Terra
altogether real soon!"
     Starbuck hesitated.  Taking on an extra passenger in a viper was
theoretically possible but it meant having to carry the lightest possible
fuel load to cut down on weight.  And that meant he'd not be able to
refuel his tank to the limit for a safe return trip to the Fleet.
     "Ah....tell you what, I could always relay a message to your friends
on Terra to come pick you up...."
     Abruptly, Colonel Charles Watts shook his head and pointed his
firearm at Starbuck again.
     "Sorry buddy, you're going to do this my way.  Either you take me
with you, or I get to learn how to fly that baby of yours all by myself."
     "All right, all right," Starbuck said hastily.  "Who am I to refuse? 
Just ah....help me fuel her up so we can make it to Terra at least!"
     "No problem," he motioned him to come down.  "I'll give you a hand
with that, and then we get moving fast."
     As Starbuck dropped to the ground he shook his head in disbelief at
how crazier and crazier the whole saga with the Terrans seemed to get
with each passing day.  The more he was exposed to them, the more he
hoped that any thought of settling the Fleet in this planetary system
would be dismissed in an instant.
     Besides, the real Earth could only be better than this society's
been!


     As Leiter's destroyer came in for a landing at the main Air Station
on Lunar Seven, the first thing the Commandant noticed was how there were
no other destroyers or any other Alliance capital ships of note at the
facility.  This went against the usual practice where the Lunar Seven
base served as home for more than eight destroyers in his class and a
number of support ships.  But now, there was only uncharacteristic quiet.
     As soon as his ship was on the ground, Leiter wasted little time
reporting to the field office as instructed, where he saw the imposing
form of his immediate superior, Group Commandant Kronstadt waiting.  His
superior was a heavyset man, with a stare as implacable as Leiter was
known to summon in front of cowering subordinates.  Now, his arms were
folded and he was giving Leiter that very same imposing look.
     "Commandant Leiter reporting as ordered, sir!"  He stiffly saluted
by extending his arm outward.
     "So nice to know you're still alive after all this time," Kronstadt
said sourly.  "You failed to file any reports with us for the last two
weeks, ever since you mentioned finding out where that escaped technocrat
and farmer disappeared to."
     "I was led to the planet Paradeen.  Unfortunately those people had
some protection from some formidable allies who ended up taking us
prisoner."
     "Prisoner?" he moved forward, his expression one of stone-faced
disbelief, "You and your men were taken prisoner?  How could you, among
the finest of soldiers the Alliance has produced, allow that to happen?"
     "We were overwhelmed by superior weaponry."
     "Superior weaponry?" the Group Commandant spluttered, "There is no
such thing as superior weaponry to what we have developed!  You know
this, Leiter!  Do you take me for a fool?"
     "I merely take you as one who should understand that my duty as an
officer in the Alliance is to report accurately what happened," Leiter
refused to be impressed by Kronstadt's bluster.  "And in this case, I
must regretfully inform you that an entirely new civilization of beings
has entered our domain with weaponry that conceivably could be used to
great advantage by our enemies if they were to join forces with them."
     "New civilization?  What are you babbling about?"
     Idiot, Leiter thought with contempt.  "What I mean, Group
Commandant, is the fact that in this vast universe, there exists other
species of beings, including some humanoids who have evidently developed
technologies in advance of anything Terran civilization has dreamed of. 
Fortunately, these particular humanoids appear to be limited in number
and represent a civilization that has been destroyed by an even more
advanced one with a philosophy similar to our own.  It will be to our
advantage to study these humanoids more carefully to discover their
weaknesses, and perhaps hopefully find a means of hooking up with their
adversaries."
     "You are spouting pure drivel!  Now I want the truth of what
happened to you, now!"
     "I am giving you the truth!" Leiter decided he wasn't going to hold
his tongue for a man he had nothing but contempt for any longer.  "If
you're too dense to accept that, that will remain your problem.  My
report on this matter that I send to the Politburo and the Supreme
Commandant will state the matter clearly, and perhaps they will be more
impressed by this news than you seem to be."
     "Where is your proof that this is what you experienced?" Kronstadt
scoffed.  "And don't tell me the word of your men is proof, I find that
meaningless when the story is this absurd.  Where is your *tangible*
proof that this is what you experienced?"
     For the first time, a cold chill went through Leiter as he realized
to his horror that he had nothing that could be classified as tangible
proof.  There had been no entries made in the log during the time when
the Colonials had been in possession of the ship.  He had kept nothing
from the Galactica.  The only proof he might have been able to
offer......was the three Borellian Nomen, whom he had decided to kill and
jettison into space when it began to look as if they would not be wholly
accepting of Alliance edicts.  They had been his best possible insurance
possibility against the bluster of Group Commandant Kronstadt, and now he
realized he had thrown it away completely out of arrogant pride.
     "I.....have but my word as a man who has loyally served the Alliance
for many years, and whose only desire is to further the Alliance goal of
fulfilling her destiny according to the Natural Order."
     "Correction.  You are one who knows that because the Natural Order
is inevitable, you so desperately wish to be a part of it, and when you
engage in rank incompetence, you know that those of us in a position to
know can not possibly have any meaningful use for you in the Natural
Order.  It is rather telling, that right now, on the eve of our final
victory over the Nationalists and the fulfillment of the Natural Order,
your destroyer is the only one on this planet and the only one not in
prime position to strike at the Nationalist cities for mopping up duty
*after* we have taken them by surprise and left them devastated."
     "Group Commandant, I----,"
     "Silence!" Kronstadt roared.  "You are relieved of your command and
are now under arrest pending trial and court-martial!  And the sooner you
admit your guilt, the better!"
     "This is an outrage!" Leiter spluttered, "I am a loyal servant of
the Alliance!  You must listen to me, or else we are at risk!  *You* are
the one endangering the Alliance by refusing to listen, not me!"
     "I can now add insubordination, which is no different from treason
to your crimes!" Kronstadt fired back.  "Guards!  Place this traitor and
his crew in irons until further notice!"
     "No!" Leiter shouted as two muscular guards entered the room and
grabbed him by the shoulders.  "You can't do this!"
     Kronstadt avoided looking at him as the guards dragged Leiter out. 
Instead, he looked down at his desk where the report from the Supreme
Commandant of what was planned for this very day, only made him smile.
     The Natural Order is about to be fulfilled.  And without incompetent
traitors like Leiter.


     "Commander," Tigh said, "We've finished going through the telemetry
Giles scanned from Lunar Seven.  We've rechecked it, and it looks as if
the Alliance has withdrawn the bulk of their forces from there."
     "Withdrawn?" Adama lifted an eyebrow.
     "Yes.  The only destroyer that registers in a sweep of the planet is
Leiter's.  We picked up a number of facilities that are used for housing
such vehicles, but they're all empty or stocking only low-level shuttle
type vehicles."
     "If they've withdrawn their Destroyer force from Lunar Seven, then
it could be they have something planned in the vicinity of Terra itself."
     "Where Apollo and Starbuck are wandering into."
     "Well that settles it," Adama said, "We have to get to them as soon
as possible."
     "At normal Fleet speed, Commander it would take us a minimum of
three to four cycles to reach the Terran system."
     He looked the executive officer in the eye, "Then I guess, Colonel,
we have to do something about that, don't we?"
     Tigh frowned, "Commander, you're not suggesting that we.....detach
ourselves from the Fleet to achieve our maximum speed?"
     "What other choice do we have, Tigh?" Adama posed his question
rhetorically.  "If this report is correct, the whole dynamic of the
Nationalist-Alliance war is about to change dramatically.  And if Apollo
and Starbuck are caught in the crossfire of it, then we have to get there
as quickly as possible."
     "The safety of the Fleet----,"
     "Noted, but not a matter of concern.  Since we are no longer in a
position of worrying about anything that might come from our old enemies,
then the only matter left was to find out if the Alliance had any
strength on Lunar Seven that could threaten the Fleet's safety.  Since
they don't, then there's nothing that should hold us back from detaching
ourselves."
     Tigh awkwardly smiled, "God help you if today's the day the Cylons
decide to suddenly return from out of nowhere."
     "God help me indeed, if they do," Adama returned it, "But.....I have
enough faith to believe we don't face that danger, Tigh.  That's why we
must act."
     "I still recommend that as a precaution, we have Red and Silver Spar
groups maintain protective escort for the Fleet just in case there are
other Alliance forces nearby that we're not aware of."
     "Agreed.  Notify Boomer, Sheba and Bojay and tell them to get their
groups ready."  He went over to the unicom and picked it up.  This would
enable him to speak to the entire Fleet.
     "People of the Fleet, this is Commander Adama.  At this time, the
Galactica is temporarily detaching ourselves from the rest of the Fleet
to deal with an important matter of concern taking place near the planet
Terra.  We would not undertake this grave an act if we felt there was the
slightest chance of any danger to your well-being in leaving you
unprotected.  But as a precaution, two full Viper squadrons will remain
in constant protective escort until our return to handle any unlikely
developments that might occur to impact your safety.  As soon as the
Viper teams are in place, the rendezvous coordinates will then be
transmitted over this frequency again.  Thank you."
     He set the unicom down and went back over to Tigh.
     "Boomer, Sheba and Bojay are already on their way to Alpha Bay."
     "Good.  And once they're away I want you to get us ready for our
maximum speed."
     "Hyper-drive?" Tigh asked, scarcely believing it.
     "Yes, hyper-drive.  I know it's been, what....two yahrens since we
last used it."
     "Three," Tigh corrected.
     "No matter.  We need to cut down on the journey and be there in a
matter of no more than two centars from the time we start moving."  He
looked back at the navigation board where the beacon markers of Apollo
and Starbuck still flashed in the upper lefthand corner, "So much may be
depending on us now."


     Starbuck could feel the sense of claustrophobia the presence of an
extra passenger in the back was causing as he pulled his viper away from
the confines of the burning wreck that Lunar One had become now.  The
sooner this two-man jaunt was done, the better.
     "We need to land in Terra's capital city."  Watts said from the
back.
     "Wrong, buddy," Starbuck said, "We're landing where my friend set
his ship down, and where I'm still getting his active beacon.  My first
obligation is to find out what happened to him."
     "There's no time for that!"
     "There's plenty of time for it," he paused, "Oh....and just in case
you think about using the firearm, I'd only like to point out that
there's no way of flying this thing from where you're sitting.  So that
means I've got the upper hand now."
     There was a pause and when Watts spoke, Starbuck could sense the man
was actually smiling.
     "Spoken like a true gambling man who knows when he's got all the
winning cards."
     "Cards?" Starbuck's ears perked up, "You people play those kind of
games?  Maybe when this is over, you and I should talk shop and share
some tips with each other!"
     "Maybe," he chuckled.  "I didn't catch your name."
     "Starbuck," he said with a friendly air, "And right now, we're
trying to find the guy I regard as my conscience in life.  His name is
Apollo."
     "That's all?  No last name?"
     Starbuck thought about his remark.  He had noticed how Terrans had
adopted a custom he had read about, where to keep an orderly record of
families in a population roll, it had become common in some cultures to
adopt a family surname to be known by in addition to one's given name. 
It was an idea that had never truly caught on in the mainstream of
Colonial society
     "No.  We just.... get our names and go by them for the rest of our
lives.  Just Starbuck."
     "Sounds more like an action than a name."
     The blonde warrior chuckled, "You're not the first person who
thought that way.  Only they thought it was some kind of a strange
criminal offense."
     "Tell me about that sometime.  Hey, look out!  Alliance destroyers
dead ahead!"
     Starbuck looked up and saw that between Lunar One and Terra, were
the unmistakable shapes of more than a dozen Alliance destroyers. 
Undoubtedly the ones that had caused the recent slaughter on Lunar One.
     "What do we do?"
     Starbuck took a breath, "This is where I get to show off what our
ships are capable of doing speed-wise."
     He then hit his maximum turbo boost, and plowed ahead on a course
that would drive him right through the nest of Alliance ships, and keep
him on a straight-line path to Terra and the source of Apollo's beacon.  
     "Whoa!" Watts yelped from the back, not used to this kind of
sensation of speed.  But the sound of his exclamation was more that of a
man who was enjoying the experience rather than being terrified of it.
     "And there you have it!" Starbuck grinned, "We left them right
behind us with their astrums down.  And now we're headed in for a perfect
landing."
     "Man oh man, if only we had these things on our side to use against
the Alliance."
     Starbuck felt his cockiness disappear as he realized there was a
potentially dangerous ramification in what Watts had just said.  Yes, he
wanted to do what he could to help the side that was fighting the
treachery of the Eastern Alliance, but did that mean giving one side such
an overwhelming advantage in technology?  Could such a technological
breakthrough for one side in such a struggle have potentially more
dangerous ramifications?
     Come to think of it, isn't that how the living Cylons first created
their robots and then planted the seeds of their own destruction?
     "We're headed in now," Starbuck said as he brought himself back to
the present.  "We'll be on the ground in a few centons."
     "What's a centon?"
     Starbuck cocked his head back slightly, wondering why basic
knowledge of time units had to be so unknown to these people.  Then he
just shrugged, "Forget it.  We'll be on the ground.....before you know
it."
     "*That* I can understand.  I'm with you all the way."


     "Mr. President?" the Chief of Staff was feeling more uneasy as he
returned to the Nationalist leader's office.  He had just given what he
felt was a distasteful order to send armed guards to the home of Brenda
Maxwell, and combined with everything else that had happened, he was
beginning to wonder if there was too heavy a price to be paid for the
kind of "loyalty" that was being demanded of him.
     "Yes, Art?" the President's voice was calmer than at their last
meeting.
     "Another report has come in of an unidentified flying craft
penetrating our airspace.  It appears to be in the same region where the
first craft penetrated."
     "And?" he demanded.
     "Still nothing conclusive for identification.  However, I have seen
to it that a ground unit be dispatched to investigate where it may have
landed."
     "Good.  Keep me informed, and make absolutely certain that it's
*nothing* that can disrupt any of my plans."
     The Chief of Staff hesitated for a brief instant, before he finally
nodded, "Of course."  And then he turned and was gone.

                         Chapter Three

     Apollo felt grateful that he'd gotten a respite from having to fake
his way through a story and could just listen to some new information
from the man who occupied the cell across from him.  The first thing he'd
been able to pick up was that the man's name was Stone, and he likely
possessed a high rank.
     "I'm not surprised they brought you here," the man called Stone
said, "General Maxwell sent you on a pretty important mission, right?  To
all the outer Terran colonies?"
     "Yes," Apollo nodded, "I was out as far away as Paradeen. 
I....don't have to say anything more, do I?"
     "No, no you don't," Stone admitted.
     "But how much do you know?"  Apollo knew this would get him to open
up.
     "Just about everything you got a chance to see firsthand.  The loss
of Paradeen.  Lunars One through Eleven.  The only problem is....anyone
who does know it, ends up here like you and me."
     "The government's doing," Apollo felt it was safer to make his
remarks as rhetorical statements rather than questions.
     "Naturally.  Given how much the President has our free and
independent press in his hip pocket and has been planting stories
discrediting everyone who's advocated a tougher line against the Alliance
for years, none of us could probably find one reporter willing to print
our concerns even if we got to them."
     "I've just never been able to get it," Apollo said in disbelief,
because what he was hearing was beginning to strike him as having an
eerie similarity to something that had happened not too long ago in
Colonial society, "Is the President just afraid of having to take a
tougher line against the Alliance that he'd go to these steps of having
the truth suppressed?"
     "Yeah, he's scared.  Big time.  Because he knows that if you were to
make a report on your mission and your findings to the Presidium, they'd
demand an immediate attack on the Alliance strongholds in retaliation. 
And if any of us tried to raise the issue, that might stir up enough
trouble, so that's why you and I end up here in jail, and there'll
probably be more to follow before all's said and done.  He thinks
all-out-war would destroy the heart of Terran civilization, by which he
means all the Nationalist cities that have been left untouched by the
direct fighting, so better to just surrender the outer territories and
forget about it.  Since none of those people can survive in Terra's
atmosphere anyway, who cares what happens to them?"
     "He should care," Apollo said with disgust, "Those are his people
he's responsible for."
     "I know, but what the Hell can we do at this point?"  He threw up
his arms in disgust, "We really blew our chance when we didn't stand up
to him, publicly, when we could have.  We might have just declared war
and gone after the Alliance satellites and taken them out in a preemptive
way.  If we'd made that kind of show of force, then the Alliance might
have gotten it in their heads to sue for peace on more favorable terms to
us.  The Alliance might be ruthless, but when they get confronted with a
show of force that intimidates them, they don't hesitate to back down. 
They figure it's a lot easier to collect themselves for some day in the
distant future and fall back on their faith in the inevitability of
history that their 'Natural Order' will one day triumph, and that even a
humiliating peace treaty for them doesn't have to be seen as a long-term
defeat.  But of course if we get them to accept those terms, what we'd at
least have the advantage of doing is giving the people the Alliance hold
captive some hope.  That the Alliance is not invincible and can yield to
a proper show of force, and if that happens.....well then the only thing
that should be inevitable about history is that the Alliance should be
doomed when that happens."
     "I agree with what you say," Apollo said, thinking in his mind that
what Stone was describing was similar to the kind of aggressive policy
the Colonies should have been waging against the Cylons.  And if they had
done so, and not given in to the wearisome desire for 'peace', then
perhaps the thousand yahren war could still have been won.
     "But now," Stone went on, "It's probably come down to the fact that
thanks to our ineptitude and our cowardice, the only alternative we've
been given apart from the kind of outright surrender that the President
is going to bring about in his treaty, is to attack the Eastern
Alliance's strongholds right here on Terra in an all-out sneak attack."
     "But what purpose would that serve?" Apollo found that new remark
disturbing, "The Alliance would just retaliate instantly with their full
arsenal at the Nationalist cities, wouldn't they?  Then both halves of
the world, yours and theirs would be destroyed!"
     "What do you mean 'your' half, Charlie?" he glared at him.
     "I mean, I----," Apollo flushed as he realized his mistake, "I mean
our half of course.  I....sorry, I've been away from here too long."
     "I guess you have," Stone said.  "So...for now, I guess all we can
do is sit here on our butts and stew in our mutual discontent.  Unless we
get some new miracles to bail us.....and our people are out."
     Apollo gazed up at the ceiling, "Right now, I can think of someone
who *owes* me a miracle, right now."


     "There it is," Starbuck said as he brought his viper in for a
landing in the desert region where night still filled the sky.  "Apollo's
ship."
     "Your friend sure picked an out of the way place to set down on,"
Watts grunted, "We're a good twenty kilometers outside the capital city. 
It'll take a bit of time for us to cover the rest of the way on foot."
     "Assuming that's where he went.  I'd much rather find out he's still
waiting inside his ship and just doesn't have any power to try his
communication band to signal me or any other would-be rescuer."
     "I'd much rather find that out too, since it means I can get back to
what I have to do."  Watts said.  "Boy, I sure wish I could get to
Brenda."
     "Brenda?"
     "Girl I know.  Actually....kind of a special girl, though she
probably thinks I regard her as just the latest in a string of short-term
romances."
     "Really now," Starbuck found himself intrigued, "Do you have some
kind of....reputation for that?"
     Watts let out a chuckle, "You could say that.  But....I have to
admit for someone like Brenda, I'd be glad to turn over a new leaf."
     Card games and women.  Boy, this is one guy I can relate to!  "Well,
I can sort of relate to that.  I've....been learning a bit recently about
how a......longer-term relationship can bring more personal
satisfaction."
     "I'll take that as a helpful sign that maybe if we come through this
okay, it'll be time for me to change my ways."
     Starbuck brought his viper to a halt next to Apollo's.  He could
tell right away that no one was there since the canopy had been left
open.  Which was a reminder to Starbuck, of why it was so dangerous for
the ship's safety to leave it open, since all it would take would be one
inquisitive person with a blunt instrument who could smash the control
components to pieces.  Sarah had already proved that on Paradeen.  But
unfortunately there was no way of opening a sealed canopy from the
outside, so they always had to stay open with the hope that the height of
the Viper would act as enough of a barrier.
     "Okay," he popped open the canopy and stepped out, "Let me check the
inside of his cockpit to see if he left a message, and then we can get
going."
     Starbuck hoisted himself up into Apollo's cockpit and saw a green
light blinking which meant a message had been left.  He tensed himself
and pressed it.
     "This is Captain Apollo.  In the event that any of the Galactica
warriors should successfully track me, I have proceeded on foot for now,
to what end I know not.  I'll keep my personal communicator on standby to
act as a homing device.  Be careful.  I don't know if we're in friendly
or enemy territory, but.....all I can say for now is that I've been
brought here, I believe by those who were responsible for giving us the
general coordinates to Earth."
     And then the message ended.  Starbuck found himself trying to think
back to what Apollo had said about the Beings who had provided the
coordinates for Earth, and how that changed the dynamic of everything. 
There was so much about that experience with Count Iblis that Starbuck
couldn't remember, but he did remember that there was some kind of force
for Good out there that had helped point them in a right direction at
long last.  If they were involved with Apollo being spirited this far
away, then did that mean he could relax now and entrust everything to the
hands of Providence.
     "Starbuck!" he heard Watts' voice call from below.  "There are
ground force units headed this way!"
     Starbuck dropped to the ground and then shielded his eyes from the
sight of several transport vehicles approaching.
     "Are they friendly?"
     "They have to be.  This is Nationalist territory.  Although.....if
they're totally in the President's hip pocket, they might present us with
some difficulties."
     "Well we can't let them take us into custody," Starbuck quickly
detached his communicator and flicked the switch to see if it could pick
up Apollo's.  There was no response which indicated that it had been
somehow switched off.  And if that was true, it could not be a good sign
overall.  "We need to find Apollo.  Look, identify yourself and they
should listen to you, shouldn't they?"
     "That all depends," Watts said, "I kind of lost most of my uniform,
as you can see.  And if they've been bought off by the President,
revealing my name is going to guarantee we'll be arrested."
     "Not necessarily," Starbuck put the communicator back and then took
out his laser pistol.  "If you think my ship was impressive with the way
it moved, wait till you see what I can do with this thing.  Your own
weapons don't compare to ours."
     Watts looked at him in amazement, "Boy, I'd *really* love to have
come from wherever it is you guys come from."
     "No you wouldn't," Starbuck said quietly, "Because where we come
from doesn't exist anymore.  At least not the way we knew it."  He
changed the subject.  "They're getting closer.  Let's step out in the
open and you identify yourself.  If that doesn't work.....then I'll use
this."
     "Don't kill them though," he cautioned.
     Starbuck smiled, "Let the record note that for my first contact with
your fellow Terrans, my weapon is set to stun."
     They saw the vehicles come to a stop and then could make out amidst
the glare some eight to nine gray uniformed men approach.
     "Attention!" a somewhat haughty sounding voice barked, "This is
Section Q Leader of the Peoples Nationalist Force, ordering you to
identify yourself immediately."
     "Q Leader!" Watts stepped forward, "I'm Colonel Charles Watts of the
Nationalist Special Forces!  I must see General Maxwell or General Stone
as soon as possible!"
     "Watts?" there was a dubious tone in Q Leader's voice, "You must be
joking.  Colonel Watts is in custody along with those other traitors you
mentioned in the Capitol Detention Center."
     "Huh?" Watts frowned, "What are you babbling about?  What do you
mean in custody?"
     "You're obviously some kind of spy sent to disrupt the President's
peace initiative."
     "Looks like that answers the question of which side these jokers are
on," Starbuck whispered through clenched teeth.  "Time I spring into
action."
     "Whoever you are, come forward with your hands up!"
     "All right, that's close enough!" Starbuck barked as he suddenly
whipped out his laser pistol and pointed it at the men.  "Drop your
weapons now!  All of you!"
     "Surely you jest," Q Leader's voice dripped with snide sarcasm,
"There are nine of us to two of you."
     "Yeah, that you can see!" Starbuck decided it was time to do some
high-stakes bluffing.
     "Yeah," Watts nodded as he caught on and decided to join in, "I had
a lot of help on my missions."
     "I think not," he was unimpressed, "Those are clearly single-man
crafts you came in.  Perhaps at most there's one more of you, but those
are odds I think that keeps us on the winning side.  Now surrender your
weapons and submit to interrogation, or I shall have no alternative but
to take you both by force.  Dead or alive!"
     "Well so much for that," Watts whispered uneasily, "When do you-,"
     "Not 'till they move forward," Starbuck whispered as he kept his
pistol trained on the column of men.
     "Men!" Q Leader barked and began to move forward.
     The instant they all took one step, Starbuck let out a barrage of
fire from let to right across the column.  Each of the guards dropped to
the ground with only one on the right side managing to fire off his own
weapon, but by that point he was tumbling backward and his shot only went
up in the air.
     "Incredible," Watts's jaw hung open in amazement.  "That's the
fastest bit of shooting I've seen in my life."
     "Well, the key is really knowing your weapon's ahead of your
opponent rather than innate skill," Starbuck decided that Watts was not
the kind of guy he should feed a load of felgercarb to.  "They'll be out
for awhile but will recover with no ill effects.  But now," he adjusted
the firepower on his laser back to the highest setting.  "It's time to
keep them from pursuing us, once they do come to."
     Starbuck then opened fire on two of the transport vehicles which
promptly exploded.
     "Hey!" Watts blurted, "Leave one of them alone!  We can use it to
get back to the Capitol!"
      Starbuck put his laser back in the holster and rechecked his
communicator to see if Apollo's homing signal was on.  He grimaced when
he saw nothing.  That meant he had no choice but to follow Watts to
wherever he wanted to go right now.
     "All right," Starbuck said, "Where do we go then?"
     "The Capitol Detention Center," Watts said with determination as he
stopped to pick up two of the firearms from the unconscious troops. 
"They said my superiors were being held there."
     "Yeah," the blonde warrior nodded, "What was all that felgercarb
about *you* being held there?"
     "Felgercarb?" he frowned at him, "I don't know what that means, but
that sure was a load of crap.  I haven't been back on Terra in
months.....unless, someone's been impersonating me?"
     "Could be.  Who'd want to do something like that?"
     "Oh....I guess maybe an Alliance spy perhaps, or...." he let out a
chuckle, "Someone who wanted to access to some of my former girlfriends."
     "A kindred spirit to us in other words," Starbuck grinned, "Okay
Colonel, my friend is apparently delinquent in setting his beacon to lead
me to him, so I might as well tag along with you for now.  You drive."
     "With pleasure," Watts grunted as he and Starbuck stepped into the
ground transport vehicle and the Colonel started the engine up.


     Brenda had spent the better part of an hour alone in her apartment,
wondering if she'd done the right thing.  The way she'd heard the man she
thought of as Charlie issuing warnings about the war with the Alliance
had unnerved her.  Especially since she'd heard her father say so much to
her over the last few years about how he didn't think it likely that any
kind of real peace with the Eastern Alliance could ever become a reality. 

     Even so, she had spent the last few months following the news
reports of how the President was working so hard to achieve a viable
peace treaty with great interest, hoping it would become a reality.  A
Terra without war would give her the kind of stable environment that she
was sure would let her to finally experience a true, lasting relationship
with someone.  If not Charlie, then with someone else.
     Now back in her more conventional work attire, she heard the door
chime and quickly went over to answer it.  As soon as the door slid open,
she stepped back in surprise.
     "Dad!" she blurted, "I thought----,"
     "It's okay, Brenda," her father, General Robert Maxwell came up and
embraced her, "I'm back.  And none too soon!"
     "Where have you been?" she was trying to catch hold of her emotions. 
"And what's been going on?  It seems like the whole world's being turned
upside down."
     The smile faded from Maxwell's face.  "Baby, I wish I could tell
you.  But," he grimly shook his head and let go of her, "I'm afraid
things are worse than I imagined."
     "What do you mean?" she kept up alongside him.
     Her father sighed, "I'm sorry I had to leave without telling you. 
But I've been on a secret mission for the Presidium.  The President's
been lying to all of us."
     Brenda looked at him with sadness, "And the two of you were the
closest of friends."
     "Yes," he nodded, "But that's a distant memory now, Brenda.  Now
he's just a tired old man who's just.....worn down by all the wars, and
public opinion, and God knows what else.  He's cracked completely."
     "That's so hard to believe," she sat down and accepted his offer of
a drink, "I see him every night on television, and it looks like the
whole peace negotiations----"
     "A farce!" Maxwell cut her off.  "An absolute farce.  What if I told
you that the Presidium already suspects that the President has already
surrendered every one of our satellite planets and colonies to the
Alliance?"
     "If that were true, how could he hope to keep that information from
us?"
     "Through his charm, charisma and skillful manipulation of the press,
which is trained to think that every member of the Presidium who thinks
the same way I do is a warmonger." he poured himself a drink, "Our
President thinks the alternative to peace is not necessarily war.  That
there's some kind of middle ground we can strike with those animals from
the Eastern Alliance since as he sees it, there's no hope of recovering
what we've lost, and why bother fighting for any of it, when the people
who live there are so distant and can't even breathe our air?"
     "But the satellites provide most of our food supplies."
     "I know.  And the President thinks that the key to getting access to
those materials again is to just make a sellout deal with the Alliance,
who now run all things there."  He took a swig from his glass, "What a
jackass."
     "But if all this has happened on the satellite worlds, can't you
prove any of it?"
     "No," Maxwell slammed his empty glass on the table, "That's just the
problem.  Total lack of tangible, eyewitness proof with firsthand
knowledge of what's gone on.  That's why I disappeared to try and get to
Lunar One, but the whole passageway between Terra and there is blocked by
scores of Alliance destroyers."  He sighed, "If only Charlie Watts turned
up."
     "Charlie?" Brenda blurted, "He knows about all this?"
     "Yes," he turned back to her, "I might as well tell you this,
Brenda, given how....close the two of you've become.  Charlie wasn't
cutting out on you when he left two months ago, he was leaving at my
behest on a secret mission to witness firsthand what was happening on the
satellite worlds.  Starting at Lunar Seven and working his way back. 
He's got the best eye for detail, and we knew if any man could pull of
that kind of operation, he was the one."
     Maxwell then noticed a horrified look coming over her face. 
"Brenda, what's wrong?"
     "Daddy," she was trembling.  "Charlie's back.  He was here, just a
couple hours ago, and I.....oh my God, I turned him in to the
authorities."
     "What?" his face twisted in stunned shock, "He's back, and you
turned him in?"
     "Daddy, you don't understand.  I picked him up in the desert after
he said his plane crashed or something, and.....he just didn't seem
right.  He was talking crazy, and....talking to people who weren't there. 
He didn't even remember my name at first!"
     "Brenda," he came up to her, "Didn't he tell you what he'd been
doing?"
     "No!" she shook her head, "No, I didn't hear any of this stuff
you're telling me.  If I had, my God, I never would have....."
     "Well if he is being held in the Capitol Detention Center, I can at
least get the Presidium to try and force his release so he can be heard! 
There's no telling what he witnessed!  That can be the proof I need to
expose the President."
     "But if they know what he knows, wouldn't they try to prevent his
release at all costs?"
     "That's true," he lowered his head, "That would pose a problem.  In
fact....if I do try to force the issue in public, God knows what they
might do.  It might even cost him his life."
     "Oh Daddy, I'm sorry, I didn't realize."
     "That's okay, baby, that's okay," he came over and hugged her, "You
couldn't have known.  I.....tried to shield you too much from all the
craziness that's going on in our world.  I should have known better."
     He was still holding  her when the door chimed again.  He slowly
released his daughter and she went over to answer it.
     She saw immediately the two security guards who had been over
earlier, and she stepped back in revulsion, now that she realized the
magnitude of what she'd done.
     "Good evening, Brenda," the mustachioed guard said with an oily
smile that she found repellent.  He then glanced back and caught sight of
her father, "Why General Maxwell, what a pleasant surprise to see you
here too!"  He snapped his fingers at the other guard who promptly
trained his weapon on the general.
     There was only a cold stare from Maxwell, but one that was also
lined with the sick sensation of defeat.


     Watts drove the ground vehicle as fast as he could over the roads
that led into the Capitol city.  As the rough road of the desert gave way
to the efficiently paved highways, the first thing Starbuck became aware
of was how beautiful the Capitol city was.  It was exactly like the kind
of city that he had walked through on Paradeen with Hector, only this one
was alive and thriving.  Not unlike the ways the cities of the Colonies
had once thrived.
      I wonder, he thought, Is there any way possible this place could
still be meant for us?  Or must we keep searching for Earth?
     He decided it was time to try Apollo's comline beacon again just to
see if there was any change now that they'd reached the city.  He flicked
it on....and to his amazement saw it emit a beep.
     "Hold on!" he blurted, "I've got my friend's beacon.  Give me a
centon to figure out where he is!"
     "That'd help if I knew what a centon was," Watts grunted as he
slowed the pace of the vehicle.
     "Hang on, hang on," Starbuck did some quick computations. 
"I've....got him.  He's...." he frowned, "He's right in the direction
we're already going in."
     "Hmmm," the Terran colonel mused, "You know what I think?  I think
your friend is probably in the same place where my friends already are. 
I don't know if we can call that a happy coincidence though."
     "Well at least we know we can really both help each other now,"
Starbuck decided to take a chance giving Apollo a verbal acknowledgment. 
"Apollo, do you read me?  I'm on my way.  Repeat, I'm on my way, Apollo
and I've got help."
     Abruptly, the beeping noise ceased, which meant that wherever the
com-line was, it had been turned off now.
     "I'm not sure I'd have done that," Watts said, "You may have just
tipped the goon squad off."
     "Well, we'll see.  Can you get this slow tub moving any faster?"
     "Oh sure, but I'll probably end up getting pulled over by a highway
cop, or maybe I'll end up wrecking it and this'll become a matched set
with the other two you destroyed."
     Starbuck glanced quizzically at him, "I hope you're not suggesting
I'd have to pay for those machines, are you?"
     "Well, that depends at this point on whether we end up being
successful in our objectives," Watts managed to smile back.  "If we
succeed, I think we'll probably end up with some nice rewards that will
likely cover the damages.  If we're not....I guess, we'll just have to go
to our graves with our books out of balance."
     "Oooh, bad, bad," Starbuck shook his head, "That's practically a
taboo where I come from, to die without getting a chance to settle old
accounts.  So I guess that means simple honor and virtue means we have to
succeed."
     "I like your line of thinking, Starbuck," Watts grinned as he put
his foot to the accelerator to try and go just a bit more faster.


     Apollo didn't know how much time had passed since he'd finished his
conversation with Stone.  He'd found it much easier to rest against the
wall of his cell, trying to think of what he could do now.  Could he
still effectively carry out the deception of being Charlie Watts?  Or had
the time come to finally drop the pretense and try to tell the Terrans
who he really was?
     The sound of footsteps suddenly broke his concentration.  He looked
up and saw that Brenda was being escorted into the passageway by one of
the guards, and with her was a man he immediately recognized from the
picture as her father.  And from what he'd gleaned from Stone, her father
was an even more important man in the ranks of Nationalist politicians,
who he realized he should properly address as General Maxwell.
     "General!" Stone blurted.
     "Stoney!" Maxwell reacted in surprise at the sight of his colleague
as the guard shoved him into Stone's cell and then turned the force field
back on.  "You're in here too?"
     "Too many of us it seems.  And Charlie too," he motioned.
     Maxwell looked over where Brenda was being pushed into Apollo's
cell.  The mustachioed guard then turned the field back on, and then
positioned himself in front of it.
     "One question for you, Colonel," the guard said, "Just who is
Apollo?"
     "Huh?" Apollo was taken aback.
     "Dr. Vandenberg's been studying those peculiar toys of yours that
you were carrying when you were taken into custody.  It seems that while
inspecting it, a voice suddenly emitted from it that said, 'Apollo, I'm
on my way.'" he leaned in closer, "Now I suggest you tell me just who
Apollo is, and whether any friends of yours are going to be showing up at
some point to stage a most ill-considered rescue attempt of you and your
cohorts?"
      I don't believe it, Apollo thought.  Either Starbuck or someone
else from the Galactica's shown up and picked up my beacon.  If  they're
on the way though, then how can I possibly keep up this charade  of being
Charlie Watts?  Maybe it's time I try to tell them the truth. 
Or....frack, they'd *really* think I was out of my mind if I tried doing
that before he showed up.
     He made a decision that for now, he'd try to keep the charade going
for as long as he could because he couldn't see how the truth would help. 
Especially not in the context of being interrogated.
     "Apollo is....gosh I don't know.  Are you sure that was my device
you were looking at?"
     "You'd better tell me the truth," the guard's voice grew colder, "Or
maybe I have to make an example of the general's daughter."
     He abruptly turned off the force field, pulled Brenda out and then
pointed his firearm at her head while simultaneously getting the force
field back on.
     "No!" Maxwell blurted.
     "Now what's it going to be, Colonel?" the guard flashed another oily
grin.  "Just who is Apollo?"
     "It's a code name," Apollo said, deciding that was the best he could
do, "The....general assigned it to me on my mission, and when you heard
it, that was.....the pretaped message he was sending me when he was on
his way over, and before you picked him up.  Isn't that right sir?"
     "Yes," Maxwell frantically nodded, "That's the God's honest truth, I
was trying to make contact with Charlie here, and set up that automatic
relay."
     The guard looked at them sarcastically, "I'm not entirely convinced,
but.....I'll give that story some thought for now.  If it turns out to be
a lie though, I won't be so charitable."  He lowered his firearm and then
after readjusting the force field pushed Brenda back in Apollo's cell and
walked away.
     As soon as the retreating footsteps were gone, Maxwell glared over
at him, "Charlie, what was that crap you made me tell?  I never assigned
you a code name on your mission.  Just what was that about?"
     "It means help is on the way and should be here soon," Apollo wasn't
going to lower his guard just yet.  The time to reveal his true identity
could only come once a warrior arrived to back his story up.  "As to the
details.....I can't explain just yet.  You just have to sit tight
and....wait."
     "We've been doing a lot of that, Charlie," Stone grunted.  "And
frankly, given how much time we've got left, that isn't much of an
option."
     "Don't I know it," Apollo grunted as he made his way over to the
wall, where he became aware of Brenda's hand touching his arm.
     "Charlie," she said tenderly, "I'm so sorry.  If I'd only known."
     Oh frack, please don't let her get all emotional and kiss me.
     "It's okay," he took her hand and patted it in a purely fraternal
way.  "Everything will be okay.  Just sit tight and.....trust me.  I'm
sure it won't be too long."
     It better not.  Starbuck, if you're the one who's come, you'd better
make sure your timing is perfect!


     Watts pulled his vehicle up to the main gate that led to the Capitol
Detention Center.  One gray suited guard was on duty.
     "Your pass?" he asked.
     Watts held up a card he'd taken off the unconscious Q Leader and
flashed it.
     "Just a minute," the guard said suspiciously.  "You're not in proper
uniform."
     "I had an accident, and need to get a change of clothes inside,"
Watts said disarmingly, "Now just let me pass, Sergeant."
     "I....think I should clear this with the Duty Officer," he turned
toward his automatic phone console and at that instant, Watts took
Starbuck's laser pistol and promptly shot the attendant unconscious.
     "You handle that pretty well for a beginner," Starbuck quipped.
     "Thank you," Watts chuckled as he pulled into the lot, getting as
close to the main entrance as he could.  Once he found a space, he pulled
into it and shut the ignition off.
     "All right," the Terran colonel said as they got out.  He was
holding both of the firearms he'd seized earlier.  "Now we go inside and
get your friend, and my friends out.  And maybe we'll also clear up this
garbage about my already being in custody inside there."
     "But let's try to make it a quick job," Starbuck said as they
started to walk toward the main entrance.
     "Just a minute."
     Starbuck glanced at Watts, "Did you say something?"
     "No," Watts frowned, "I thought you did."
     "I don't think it advisable to enter in your present state, given
how Captain Apollo will look to you both once you see him."
     "There it is again!" Starbuck looked around the parking complex,
"Who's there?"
     Suddenly, Starbuck felt a hand touch his shoulder.  In an instant,
he noticed that his uniform had completely turned white.  And standing
behind him was a middle-aged man with silver-white hair with a disarming
smile.
     "Who are you?" Watts blurted.  Starbuck noticed immediately that the
colonel's torn pants, the only clothing he still had on, had also turned
white.
     "My God," Starbuck whispered as memories suddenly came back to him. 
"The Ship of Lights.  Apollo was right, you did bring him here."
     "Yes," John nodded and turned to Watts, "My compliments to you,
Colonel, on how you handled your escape from Lunar One, and were able to
hook up with Starbuck.  You've made quite a resourceful team together."
     "Tell me what is going on?" Watts's voice rose.
     "It's okay, Watts, he's a friend," Starbuck said reassuringly, "I
know you....have to be a friend because of what....you did for us in the
past.  But what are you trying to have us do now?"
     "That's up to you, Starbuck," John said, "I only appeared to clear
up a potentially awkward situation once you saw Apollo again, and also,"
he looked at Watts, "If the Colonel had seen him without my
intervention."
     "Huh?"
     "No matter.  Now that the way has been made clear, you may both
proceed and....do what you both must do to help those who need it."
     Abruptly, John disappeared.
     "Where'd he go?"
     "Never mind, Watts," Starbuck said, "I'll explain later.  Let's just
head inside and move quickly."
     They entered the complex at a brisk pace.  Two guards were
patrolling the main reception area that funneled out into the rest of the
Detention Center complex.  Without saying anything, both Starbuck and
Watts immediately trained their weapons on them.
     "Don't say anything," Watts said with mock charm, "Just drop your
weapons right now."
     "And if you don't do as he says," Starbuck matched his tone, "You'd
force me to do this."
     Starbuck fired his laser at a lamp that stood off to one side.
     "And if he had to do that," Watts tauntingly smiled and kept up the
same rhythmic pattern, "I would have no choice but do this."
     This time it was Watts unloading his conventional Terran firearm on
the lamp on the opposite side of the hallway.
      Finally, the panicked guards dropped their weapons to the floor.
     "Bright boys," Watts kept up the taunting smiles, "Now why don't you
kindly escort my friend and me down to where General Maxwell and General
Stone are being held.  Right now!" he raised his voice to an angry bark
on the last two words.
     The guards hastily turned around and began to move into the complex
with Starbuck and Watts keeping their weapons trained on their backs.
     "And after you lead us to them," Starbuck said, "You'll show me
where a guy who's dressed like me is being held."
     "They're all in the same holding area!" the first guard blurted. 
"Believe me!"
     "How do you like that?" Watts exchanged glances with Starbuck as
they kept following them, "Our luck's really on a roll now!"
     "And just when the stakes are at their highest," the blonde warrior
grinned.
     They went around two corners and then finally came to the holding
area.  Starbuck pushed past the guards and immediately saw Apollo
standing next to a beautiful young woman.
     "Apollo!" he blurted.
     "Starbuck!" Apollo felt an intense feeling of relief, "I never
thought I'd be so glad to see anybody in my whole life."
     "Let me get you out!"
     "Wait!" he held up a hand, "They have to turn off the force field
first."
     Starbuck motioned to the lead guard, "Do it!"  The guard meekly
obliged, and Apollo and Brenda stepped out with Starbuck forcing the two
guards inside.
     "The other cell too!" Apollo ordered, "Her father and the other man
are important people in the Nationalist government."
     "Charlie, who is he?" Brenda asked in bewilderment as her father and
Stone stepped out of their cells.
     "He's a good friend," Charlie Watts said as he stepped into the
corridor.  "Brenda, thank God, you're okay."
     Brenda, Stone and Maxwell looked over and their mouths fell open in
disbelief.  "What the-, Charlie?" Maxwell mouthed.
     "That can't be!" Stone blurted, "How can there be two of you?"
     "Two of us?" Apollo looked over and light suddenly dawned on him. 
"Colonel Charles Watts?  The real Colonel Watts?"
     "Yes," Watts stepped forward and looked at Apollo, "Have you been
pretending to be me?"
     "You could say that," Apollo nodded, "I'm really glad to see you
too, and I can drop the charade now."
     "I don't get it," Watts shook his head and looked at his three
friends, "Did you think he was me?  He doesn't even look like me!"
     "What are you talking about, Charlie?" Brenda's bewilderment, "He's
a dead ringer for you!"
     "Hold it, I think I get what's been happening.  Starbuck, I look
like me to you, don't I?"
     "Yeah," Starbuck nodded.  "And the Colonel sees you the same way,
because," he flicked his finger against Apollo's white jacket, "Someone
helped us make sure we'd see you correctly."
     "Yes," Apollo nodded as he took note of the white attire on Starbuck
and Watts.  "It's confusing, I admit, but you can tell us apart by the
clothes at least.  And I think....together, we can pool our resources to
try and stop the Alliance."
     "At the very least stop the President from selling out our country
to them," Watts said with disgust.  "Starbuck tells me that you and he
saw firsthand what the Alliance did on Paradeen."
     "Yes," Apollo nodded.  "And....that's how I learned about you, from
Michael and Sarah and was able to.....play your part for a while."
     "I'm glad to know you helped get them to safety," Watts said with
genuine gratitude, "I've spent quite a few nights these last couple
months wondering if they were all right." 
     "I don't understand," Maxwell was trying to come to terms with
things, "You....Apollo.  Who are you and where do you come from?"
     "Another civilization, far from your own," Apollo said.  "And one
that has gone through an experience not unlike what you're trying to
prevent."
     "Apollo," Starbuck spoke up, "Before we hash this out any further,
let's get out of the Detention Center before someone else raises the
alarm."
     "Yes," Maxwell nodded fervently, "If we can get to the Presidium
Building in the center of town, we'll be safe because we'll be out in the
open surrounded by all our supporters."
     "Then let's get going," Watts motioned and the group of six began to
hurry out.

                         Chapter Four

     The incredible sensation of speed that Tigh felt as the Galactica
engaged in her hyperdrive was one that had jolted him at first.  Even
though he had experienced it many times when the battlestar had engaged
in combat missions over the yahrens, the idle period and the slow
acclimation of adjusting to a speed that could never be faster than the
slowest ships in the Fleet, had made Tigh initially unprepared to handle
the rapid acceleration.
     Finally, after several centons, he managed to collect his bearings
and felt comfortable making his way over to Adama, who sat implacably at
his console on the upper level of the Bridge.
     "In about a little more than a centar we should be there," he
sighed, "I hope we're doing the right thing."
     "I'm sure of it," there was no doubt in Adama's voice.  "To what end
our presence is required to impact the situation that exists at Terra, I
still don't know, but.....I do have faith in the answers being evident
once we arrive."
     Tigh shook his head marveling at how Adama could always find the
ability to draw from his faith at such times.  And not in the kind of
frightened way one that was lost and reeling in uncertainty might when
one might feel the only desperate option left was turning to prayer. 
With Adama, it always stemmed from inner strength and serenity.
     "Eighty centons to Terra system arrival," Athena reported from her
station.  She was right now feeling glad that her temporary assignment as
an educational instructor was over for now, and she could get stick to
the more serious duties on the Bridge.  After filling in for three
sessions, the increasingly raucous tone from Boxey's classmates had begun
to get under her skin in more ways than one (though to her relief, her
nephew had remained a model student).
     Adama looked back at Tigh, "As a precautionary measure, I want all
weapons systems brought on-line, but to no higher than Yellow Alert
level."
     "Consider it done," Tigh nodded as he moved away to carry out the
commander's order.


     The Chief of Staff knew he was going to have to brace himself for
the full-blown spluttering fury of the President as he'd never seen it
before.  And what repercussions he might face, God only knew.
     "Mr. President?"
     "Yes?" he snapped from behind his desk with an irritable air.  
     "I have bad news to report," he said, "Colonel Watts, General
Maxwell and General Stone have escaped from the Detention Center."
     "What?" he bolted from his chair.  "Where are they?"
     "Safely in General Maxwell's office in the Presidium Building, and
he has already phoned a dozen members demanding an immediate emergency
session to convene in the next hour."  He paused, "Face facts, Mr.
President.  This strategy of imprisoning your would-be-enemies has just
backfired."
     "No it hasn't," the President hissed as he got to his feet, "If
Maxwell and Watts think they can get the Presidium to go along with them,
I'll just denounce them all as liars who had to be detained to prevent
them from sabotaging the peace negotiations.  They don't have
any....tangible proof."
     "Mr. President," the Chief of Staff grew more grave, "With all due
respect, you can not explain away all of what they'll say as mere lies. 
Your fellow Presidium members are not dummies, and at least one of them
is going to suggest that an expedtionary probe to the Lunar outposts be
sent to verify if what Watts or anyone else has to say is true.  How will
you handle that?"
     The President sullenly sat back in his chair and idly pulled at his
moustache.  "I'll....head them off with a....partial admission. 
Something that will keep these warmongers from getting their way at the
very least.  Maybe even.....an apology for acting harshly in dealing with
Maxwell, Stone and Watts but that it was all in the best interest of the
nation."
     "Good luck with that."
     He glared at the Chief of Staff, "Don't get sarcastic with me, Art."
     "Totally unintended, Mr. President," the Chief of Staff bowed
slightly, "I think it best we begin preparations for the meeting."


     After retreating to the safety of Maxwell's office, the group of six
had spent their time plotting their next move.  
     "I've phoned enough members of the Presidium to get things in motion
for an emergency meeting, so we don't have to worry about being arrested
again," Maxwell said.  "Now the question is, will we be able to make our
case to them?"
     "You've got me to give them a firsthand story of the Alliance
conduct on the Lunar outposts."  Watts said.  He had finally put on a
fresh new uniform jacket, but as an instinctive precaution, he still wore
his old uniform pants which were still white.  "Not to mention a nice
little account of how the President treats operatives from his own
country."
     "All well and good, Charlie, but if the President's smart, he'll try
to head you off by saying you were exceeding orders when you acted, and
can't be trusted."  Maxwell sighed and then haltingly looked at Apollo,
who still looked like Watts to him.  "Apollo, you can back up what
Charlie would say about what happened on Paradeen.  But.....isn't there
more you could say?"
     "Well, we can certainly give them a firsthand description of one of
the Alliance's lesser lights, a destroyer commander named Leiter,"
Starbuck said, "Quite a nasty disposition."
     "You met Leiter?" Stone was amazed,   "He's one of the Alliance's
top soldiers."
     "I can pretty much see how he got in such a high position based on
his personality," Starbuck said, "We.....had him and his men prisoner for
awhile, but unfortunately they escaped captivity."
     "Wait a minute," Maxwell cut in, "How did you come to have Leiter in
captivity?"
     "Complicated to explain," Apollo said, "You see....our home
base....our main ship is called the Battlestar Galactica.  It....let's
just say that the kind of technology we have aboard the Galactica,
represents something far in advance of what you've developed."
     "Well if that's true, then maybe you could give the Presidium a
demonstration of that!  If you were able to do that, then that would make
them trust both you and Charlie when you give your statements!"
     Apollo nodded, "Possible.  We do have our laser pistols, but.....I'm
not sure that would be enough."
     "Where is your home ship?" Stone asked, "This....Galactica?"
     "A long ways off and not able to help.......Unless...." Apollo put
his hand to his chin in contemplation.
     "Yeah?" Maxwell prodded.
     "Starbuck," Apollo turned to him, "Where's your viper?"
     "Parked next to yours."
     "If you were to get back there and radio the Galactica, and try to
get them to put on some kind of show of force for the Terrans
benefit......that would at last convince the Presidium members that we
come from an advanced civilization."
     "Apollo," Starbuck cautioned, "The Galactica has to be at least
three flight cycles behind us if she's been maintaining her normal
heading.  You have to remember, you and I had to go a pretty long ways
just to get here!"
     "You've got to take that chance, Starbuck!  And if you can't raise
her and get her to use her hyperdrive to get over here, then.....you'll
have to put on a visual demonstration yourself.  Have your viper buzz the
Capitol city or something."
     "I'm pretty sure that could work," Watts admitted, "Speaking from my
own personal experience, I was pretty damned impressed just riding in the
back of one of those."
     "All right," Starbuck nodded, "How do I get back to where I parked
it?  You need Colonel Watts here, and you two are the only ones who know
where that is."
     "No," Brenda spoke up, "I know where I picked up.....Apollo," she
was still trying to come to grips with the fact that the man she'd
thought was Watts had in fact been another man entirely.  "I can take you
there."
     "That's great!  Lead the way, Brenda," Starbuck said.
     "Don't take your time getting him there," Watts said and then threw
Starbuck a sly grin, "And Starbuck, don't get any ideas while you're all
alone with her."
     "Who me?" he looked back at him, "After what we've been through
together?  Not a chance, Colonel."   He then stopped to shake his hand,
"Just in case this is goodbye, it's been nice knowing you."
     "You too, Starbuck," Watts smiled, "Good luck."
     Before they reached the door, Brenda looked back and threw Watts a
sly look of her own, "When this is all over, Charlie, you and I had
better come to a new understanding."
     "That's a promise," her boyfriend said with sincerity.  "Believe
me."
     As soon as they were gone, Maxwell heard his office phone ring.  He
picked it up, "Yes?"  He waited as the other voice spoke,   "I see. 
Thank you."
     "What was that?" Apollo asked.
     "We meet in thirty minutes," Maxwell said, "I don't think that gives
us enough time."
     "Then we have to make our presentations as long as they possibly can
be," Watts said.  "I'll go first and give my account, and then Apollo,
you can tell them what you know about Paradeen, and once you've done
that.....ease your way into telling them you come from another
civilization."
     "That sounds right," Apollo said, "Because....there's something
about our civilization I want to tell your Presidium because......in a
strange way we went through the very same thing you're facing right now."
     "Just a minute," Stone said, "There's one problem.  Apollo, you
still look like Charlie to us.  That means you're going to confuse the
Presidium members a great deal if you go on after Charlie speaks."
     "Good Lord, you're right," Apollo said as he touched his face and
looked over at Watts.  It struck him as amazing that to everyone else but
the colonel, he looked like that man.  John had been right when he'd said
that Watts more closely resembled Starbuck.  "That is a problem."
     "One that can be rectified in the interests of expediency."
     Only Apollo and Watts heard the voice.  They looked over and saw
that John had emerged in the room.
     "Don't say anything," John held up a hand, "Don't try having to
explain to the two generals that you're talking to someone they can't
see.  Just let me take care of the....immediate problem."
     He touched Apollo's shoulder.  Apollo's uniform brightened in its
white color and then suddenly Stone blurted out, "I don't believe it. 
Now all of a sudden you don't look like Charlie!"
     "Maxwell?" Apollo looked over at him.
     "Yeah, he's right.  Boy, there's no resemblance at all!"
     "Glad you think so," Watts smiled.  "I'm glad there's one thing back
to normal in this universe.  Frankly, I don't think I much like the idea
of being less than unique."
     "But how did----?"
     "Just.....call it an answered prayer, General," Apollo said, "And
let's just hope we get a few more before all this is done."
     "Excellent way of looking at things, Apollo," John said, "Until
later."   And then, the Guardian was gone.


     On the other side of the Planet Terra, deep in the heart of an
underground bunker complex, a meeting was taking place.  A meeting of the
top members of the Eastern Alliance Politburo.  But despite the important
ranks each of the men present held in the Alliance government, the only
voice that mattered was that of the Supreme Commandant.  From him, did
all things flow when it came to policy matters of the Alliance, and the
members were expected to always obey the letter and spirit of those
orders whenever they came.
     For the Supreme Commandant, this was to be a personal moment of
triumph.  The crowning achievement of so many years of planning and
preparation.  Of studying the personality weakness in the Nationalist
President, and gauging that he was fast becoming so weary of the
centuries struggle between Nationalists and Alliance.  Gambling that the
President would be less inclined to keep spending the necessary resources
to maintain Nationalist strength on their satellite colonies.  And
further gambling that a coordinated Alliance assault on those colonies
would bring about no response whatsoever from a leader who was
increasingly tired of war.
     So far, all of the Supreme Commandant's gambles had paid off
enormous dividends of success.  Far greater than he could have imagined. 
And now, the final act of all that he had planned for so long was about
to be put into effect.
     "Comrades!" he announced boldly from his position at the head of the
giant war map table that enveloped the room.  Even though he was a man
short in stature, he had an imposing bearing and a way with words that
had always attracted attention.  That had made it possible for him to
rise to the top in Alliance circles in the first place.  "Your attention
please!"
     A hush came over the room as all eyes were now upon him.
     "On this day, the Natural Order shall be fulfilled at last," he
spoke.  "The final destruction of our hated enemy, the Nationalists, and
their outmoded ways of thinking.  Through a swift and decisive attack by
our combined forces which will annihilate all Nationalist strongholds,
and subjecting us to at worst, only minimally acceptable losses in our
own ranks." he paused.  "All of our Destroyer forces are in place between
here and Lunar One to insure their able participation in this strike
should they be needed.  But I believe that our missile arsenal will be
sufficient to the task.  And should the Nationalists get off a trifle of
their own arsenal in retaliation, then all of us shall be impervious to
the results, protected as we are in this War Room, just as our other top
commanders and personnel are also protected in similar bunkers throughout
the continent."
     "Excellence," the Alliance Interior Department Commandant spoke up,
"Since there is a risk to some areas of our civilian population, would it
not be wise to give them some advance notice?  Our coordinated Department
campaign has trained them to respond in the event of such a crisis."
     "No!" the Supreme Commandant slammed his fist on the table.  "It
matters not to me if we must take some casualties in our cities.  As you
are well aware, overpopulation of our Terran continent is one of our
greater problems.  Necessitating our need for living space in the form of
the Nationalist colonies to begin with!  By removing some of the
non-essential factors of our population, in conjunction with the
annihilation of the Nationalist population, we are left with an ideally
sized population of Loyalists who will create the perfect order in the
new Terra, and on our satellite worlds."
     The Interior Department chief slunk back slightly, wondering if
there was more madness than method in the Supreme Commandant's thinking. 
But he knew it was not his place to question anything.
     "When will the attack begin, Excellence?" this from the Foreign
Affairs Division chief.
     "Within the hour," the Supreme Commandant boasted, "An informant
within the Nationalist Presidium, too foolish to realize that the money
he receives for being a traitor will never be used by him, has informed
me that the President will be presenting his 'peace treaty' To the
Presidium on this day.  A perfect time to strike given the false sense of
security the Nationalists will be thrust into!"


     When Apollo, Watts, Maxwell and Stone left the office and went down
to the Presidium chamber, they saw it filling rapidly with the other
members.  The ones who were throwing cold looks at them, Apollo realized
had to be the President's supporters.  The others who were willing to
look relieved at least, clearly the ones who'd be more receptive to what
they'd say.
     It was only when the chamber was nearly full that the President
finally entered the room to a loud ovation from the crowd.  Ordinarily,
Maxwell and Stone might have applauded politely out of respect for the
office, but on this day, neither was about to do that.  They noticed that
the President carried a leather bound folder on his arm, which looked
exactly like some kind of official treaty or document.
     "I wish we didn't have to let him speak first, but it's damned
protocol," Maxwell whispered under his breath.  "The smart thing is to
not interrupt him at any point."
     "Agreed," Apollo nodded.
     Finally, the President lifted a hand asking for silence and the
applause died down.  He stood at the bottom center of the room so that
all members of the Presidium were looking down on him from all sides.
     "I know why this emergency meeting has been called by General
Maxwell," he began by pointing haughtily at his adversary, "It will be to
accuse me of withholding information from all of you.  That our
satellites, which provide us with our food and our resources, have in
recent weeks undergone attack by the Alliance.  And that some of them,
such as our most distant of colonies on the planet Paradeen, have in fact
been destroyed completely."
     He then paused but didn't change expression, "There is some truth in
these allegations."
     A gasp and murmur went up from the crowd, while Watts clenched his
teeth in disgust.
     "Son of a bitch," the Colonel said, "He's trying to cut the ground
out from under us by admitting half the truth and then tell them it
doesn't matter."
     "Why do I have the feeling he'd be right at home on our own
Council?" Apollo shook his head in disgust.
     "However!" the President went on in a way that quieted the crowd as
moved around and could look to each section of the galleries.  "I felt
that any premature revelation of this unfortunate news could have had
serious repercussions in my ability to achieve an end greater than what
General Maxwell and his allies would have preferred.  To them, the first
instinct on their part would have been to order a destructive strike
against the Alliance, that could only, I repeat *could only* have led to
the total destruction of all life as we know it on Terra.  All in the
name of a foolish concept of pride.  Now I ask you.  Is that the kind of
policy we should be entertaining?  No matter how much we might feel
aggrieved?"
     He let his words hang in the air before continuing.  "No.  It is
madness to think that the end of life as we know it on Terra represents a
sane course of action.  That is why I felt it was *most* imperative to
use the occasion of these incidents as a means toward ending the mad,
endless state of hostility that has existed in our world since that very
beginning of time here on Terra as we know it.  After the time when life
began under those conditions unknown to all but those rare few over two
millennia who actually have seen the Sacred Texts."
     For just an instant Apollo's ears perked when he heard the President
speak of how life had began on Terra.  And how baffling it was to try and
think of how the existence of this civilization fit into any possible
scenario of one-time connection with the beginnings of humanity as
Colonial Civilization knew it.  Did Terra represent an offshoot of the
Thirteenth Tribe that had not completed the journey to Earth?  Did they
represent unknown descendants who had come out from Earth after it had
been settled?  Or did they represent an unknown part of Colonial
civilization that at some point in the millennia past had ventured out
from the Colonies in circumstances and conditions that even Colonial
civilization had forgotten?
     All good questions.  And ones that he could not stop to ponder
further about at all.
     "In pursuing that end," the President went on, his voice now more
conciliatory, "I was forced by circumstances to take steps that I deeply
regret committing.  Such as the unlawful detainment of General Maxwell,
General Stone, and Colonel Charles Watts of the Special Forces Division. 
To each of those men, I offer before the entire Presidium, my full
apology, and my promise to offer restitution to them."
     "You lousy two-faced bastard," Maxwell whispered under his breath,
trying to keep himself from exploding.
     "But while I admit to committing unlawful acts to pursue this end,
it would have been a dereliction of my solemn obligation to the people I
lead, to do nothing that would insure their long term safety from total
destruction.  The kind of total destruction that men such as Generals
Maxwell and Stone would have had us engage in!"
     He then held up the leather-bound folder and began to wave it around
the room for emphasis, "I am here to announce this night, that I have
concluded after months of negotiations with the Eastern Alliance Supreme
Commandant, a treaty that will formally bind us to renounce war as an
instrument of policy from this day forward!  One that will put an end to
centuries of endless, senseless fighting, *and*....." he then paused for
emphasis, "For the benefit of those who would consider such a treaty a
grave affront after the losses that took place of which I have spoken,
this Treaty also restores full access to those resources on the satellite
colonies that are so vital to our civilization.  It does *not* represent
a surrender of our honor to the interests of the Eastern Alliance, but
preserves our civilization, *and* our ability to survive in a new world
where war need not be our great fear that troubles our sleep any longer!"
     The President's supporters began to applaud vigorously.  Watts was
biting his lip in an effort to keep from exploding, while Apollo shook
his head sadly as he reflected on how so much of what the Nationalist
President was saying now could easily have been said just a yahren ago by
President Adar when he had first made the announcements that direct talks
with the Cylon Empire were taking place to try and secure a just and
humane solution to the thousand yahren war.  The only difference was that
the Colonial military situation at the time was not in the kind of
precarious state the Nationalists now found themselves in, though the
disappearance of the Pegasus during the Battle of Molocay had done much
to shatter Colonial confidence in the ability to continue prosecuting the
war with the Cylons.
     "The crux of the matter," he went on after the applause died down,
"has always been about disarmament.  Effective disarmament that would put
an end to the specter of destructive weapons that have left our children
in fear for generations.  All because of this continuous, constant
build-up of military might by both sides that leaves our world no margin
for error.  The most elemental misjudgment by *anyone*.  Not just a
President, or a general, but even some low-level technician in a bunker
where our missiles are based, could make a misjudgment that would result
in the instantaneous destruction of all life forms on our world.  What
madness!  What utter, simple madness!"
     A chorus of 'hear hears' and other murmurs of approval went up from
some members of the chamber.
     "The terms of the treaty are simple," he went on, thinking he now
had control over them.  "Phase one.  Both the Eastern Alliance and the
Free Nationalists will disarm under mutual supervision.  Phase two.  We
agree to negotiate in good faith, a greater body of government for the
whole of Terra.  One that will preserve our independence over our local
affairs, but for the planet as a whole, we come together, and commit
ourselves, Nationalist and Alliance alike to free and equal access to all
food and resources available in the satellite worlds.  In effect, the
recent military campaigns made in the old atmosphere of war and mistrust,
prove to be of no great consequence whatsoever in the new atmosphere of
peace and goodwill."
     He looked about the chamber, "I will ask for a formal vote on this
treaty soon.  But as General Maxwell is the one who has convened this
session, I would be remiss in not letting him have his say.  General, the
floor is yours."
     He bowed slightly at Maxwell who was fighting hard to keep from
exploding.  He made his way to the center of the chamber where a lectern
was mounted and gripped it firmly. 
     "Members of the Presidium," he had to choke back the rage in his
voice, "Ordinarily, I would be crying out appeasement, and shouting out
betrayal," he then motioned toward the President who had now seated
himself.  "Over the President's systematic weakening of our defense
apparatus over the last several years which is *solely* the cause of why
the Eastern Alliance felt emboldened to initiate the hostile acts that
have resulted in the loss of our satellite worlds and the wanton
destruction of the people who inhabit them.
     "But instead," he then motioned toward Watts and Apollo, "I will let
you hear the voices of two men who can provide us with some much needed
insight as to why our only sane course is to reject these false appeals
to our sense of goodwill and deal with the cold reality of what kind of
enemy we face.  I call first, a distinguished member of the Nationalist
Special Forces, who in ten years of service has been decorated three
times for bravery in action, and who recently at our behest, and at risk
to his own life, saw firsthand the reasons why it is sheer folly to
believe the Eastern Alliance could ever be entrusted to keep their word
in a treaty that deals only from our weaknesses.  I call upon Colonel
Charles Watts."
     There was muted applause as Watts stepped forward.  Watching, Apollo
wondered if Starbuck had gotten to his viper yet and was airborne.


     "Brenda, how much further?" Starbuck felt his impatience level
rising as the vehicle went over the rough terrain.  "The Presidium
meeting's well under way now."
     "This is fast as it goes," Brenda said, "I.....think it should just
be another minute."
     "There!" Starbuck pointed as he saw the two vipers parked over the
horizon.  "Right there and....oh, frack!"
     "Huh?"
     "The guards Charlie and I had to stun are still lying there, and
frack, they're starting to come around again!  If they get to my ship
before I can get there that'll foul things up completely."
     "What can you do?"
     "I'll have to shoot them again, but the human body isn't ordinarily
supposed to handle a full stun blast from this just after taking it once
already.  That could end up killing them, and....frankly I'd rather not
do that."
     "You might not have a choice,"
     "Not if I can help it.  Look, Brenda, try to create a diversion. 
They don't have any intact vehicles of their own, so they won't be able
to follow you out of here, but try to get them off-balance!"
     "How?" her bewilderment deepened.
     "I don't know.....just use your imagination!"  Starbuck felt the
frustration in him mount.
     Brenda took a deep breath as she tightly grabbed hold of the wheel
and pressed her foot down on the accelerator.  Her vehicle picked up
speed and she then turned the wheel violently several times as the
vehicle zig-zagged about, causing the security guards who were getting
back to their feet to start dodging wildly and running for cover.
     "Good, good!" Starbuck beamed, admiring her creativity.  "Pull up
alongside the lead one, and let me out.  And then hightail it back to the
city as fast as you can."
     Brenda nodded and glanced at him one last time.  "Good luck,
Starbuck."
     Starbuck opened the door just as the vehicle came up alongside his
viper.  He leapt out and slammed the door shut, so she could take off,
which she did in a fast burst of speed that kicked up all kinds of dust
and pebbles in her wake.
     "Halt.  Halt!" a voice shouted that Starbuck recognized as the
arrogant, haughty tone of Section Q Leader.  He leapt up into his
cockpit, quickly got his helmet back on and pressed the button that would
seal the canopy shut.
     Two of the guards were now reaching for their firearms and preparing
to shoot at the canopy.  Not knowing if the force of their weapons would
penetrate it, Starbuck quickly powered up his systems and then started to
maneuver his ship into a takeoff position.  He heard one volley of
gunfire before the roar of his engines drowned out all other sounds and
his viper was finally off the surface of Terra.


     "I will not waste the Presidium's time explaining why it was felt
necessary for me to embark on my hazardous journey that took me to all of
the outer satellite colonies, save for Paradeen," Watts began gravely,
"Instead, I would like to enlighten you members with some cold facts
concerning the conduct of the Eastern Alliance, which should give us all
pause as to why it is indeed, as General Maxwell has mentioned, sheer
folly to believe the Eastern Alliance can be entrusted to keep their word
concerning matters as serious as the President describes.
     "On Lunar Seven, I came across a world in which the Alliance was
running a veritable slave labor society.  A place where the people who
lived there, technocrats, farmers, craftsmen and all other walks of life,
were regimented systematically in a manner so brutal, and so inhumane, as
to stifle the total individual character of all who found themselves an
unwilling part of that regimented machine.  Where they had become mere
numbers, and faceless nobodies on an Alliance ledger roll whose only
purpose left in life was to meet quota outputs that served the interest
of the state first."
     The Terran Colonel then looked around to each corner of the
galleries, "And what do you suppose happens to *anyone* in that system
who *dares* to defy this.....machine ordered regimentation of their
lives, and stand up for the principle that all of us, as individual men
and women have the right to pursue our own destinies as we see fit, and
to strive for individual achievement and excellence?  What happens to
them is that they immediately get arrested by the Enforcers of the
Alliance, and subjected to veritable show-trials in which they must
confess their guilt for committing so-called crimes against the state,
and if they dare to refuse that edict, then they are subjected to
physical torture to get them to confess.  And if they're still alive
after they've been found guilty, they get placed in work-detail programs
where they might as well already be dead, given the conditions they get
subjected to."
     He paused, "It was because I saw that barbarism firsthand on Lunar
Seven, that when a young couple named Michael and Sarah, two people who
came from separate walks of lives, each with children of their own,
approached me and begged me for a chance to help get them off Lunar Seven
so they could escape to safe haven, I didn't hesitate to assist them.  No
one who believes in freedom and the chance to live a decent life should
*ever* have to subject themselves and their children to the kind of life
the Alliance believes all of mankind should submit themselves to."
     Watts then fixed a contemptuous gaze on the President, "And those
who think you can just get a society that has practiced this form of
behavior for hundreds of years to change their ways through one scrap of
paper, and expect them to show signs of honorable conduct, are those who
are participating in a fools errand."
     There was no applause from the galleries, but it was clear that many
members were giving his words some thought.
     But not enough, Apollo thought, I guess I'll be needed to do my
part.
     "Colonel Watts," the President rose, his tone that of gentle
reproach, "No one doubts that the Alliance practices a form of government
at odds with our own.  No one doubts that our system is better than the
one they have chosen for themselves.  But when the issue becomes one
where the fate of *all* our people are potentially at risk, how can you
justify meeting such an adversary by any means other than the noble way
that is supposed to make us better than them?  Why not prove to all those
who live under the Alliance that we, by being peacemakers, can show them
what a better way of living is all about?"
     "An enemy that is set in its ways and devoted to its doctrines that
are built upon concepts of evil can never be swayed by appeals to good
will," Watts held his ground, "Such an enemy like the Eastern Alliance
can only be kept at bay, and perhaps one day defeated, through the
constant vigilance of strength, and a willingness to use force, if it
becomes necessary."
     "An endless struggle of war without any hope for peace," The
President shook his head, "Madness.  What civilization would choose such
an option?"
     "When the only other alternative is total destruction, mine would
have!" Apollo suddenly got to his feet and said at the top of his voice
so everyone could hear.  In an instant, all pairs of eyes in the
galleries went down to where Apollo stood, his white uniform standing out
like a beacon.
     Watts slowly nodded, as he knew now was the time to let Apollo
speak, "Members of the Presidium, I now present to you a very remarkable
man, who has come far to impart his wisdom to us.  A man who is living
proof of the theory that there does exist in this vast universe,
civilizations other than our own.  And who from the example of his own
civilization's history, can tell us much about what can happen when
follows the kind of foolish path our President would have us take," he
paused, "I give you now, Captain Apollo of the Battlestar Galactica,
representing a civilization known as the Twelve Colonies of Man."
     "What sort of madness is this?" the President shouted, "You're
presenting us with someone who claims to come from beyond our star system
altogether?  Who is mad enough to believe in such foolishness?"
     "What is easier to believe, Mr. President?  That there exists other
civilizations beyond our own, or that an enemy as predictable as the
Eastern Alliance can suddenly be trusted to change its ways?"  Watts
shouted back, "I demand that the Presidium give Captain Apollo the
courtesy of listening to him.....and the remarkable story he has to
tell."
     The murmuring that went up as the members traded glances with each
other, was largely in the affirmative.  Watts stepped away from the
podium and came by Apollo, who was making his way toward it.  He stopped
and placed a hand on his shoulder, and then gave him an encouraging smile
before stepping back alongside Maxwell and Stone at the far end of the
room.
     Apollo felt his heart pounding rapidly as he took his place before
the podium, gripping it tightly.  Slowly, he took a breath and hoped that
he'd get a chance to make his case before it would become necessary for
Starbuck and the Galactica to make some kind of visual demonstration.
     "Distinguished members of the Presidium," Apollo said with solemn
dignity, "I come to you from a brother tribe of man, related to your
civilization in a way that is unknown to my people.....and perhaps to
yours as well, to tell you of how the situation you people of Terra now
find yourselves in is not unique in the annals of history.
     "You have heard Colonel Watts describe the Eastern Alliance's
barbarous acts on Lunar Seven and how they run things there.  I can first
of all, supplement his information by revealing that I was able to help
the people he spoke of, Michael and Sarah, reach safety on Paradeen.  A
planet they felt they could escape to.....only because of the destructive
legacy left behind there by the Eastern Alliance, which has rendered most
of the planet dead and beyond much practical use for the Alliance or even
for the Nationalists any longer.  The capitol city of Paradeen, a city as
noble and beautiful as this city here on Terra is now an abandoned wreck
with thousands of rotting corpses lining the streets and the facilities,
all because the Alliance saw fit to use heinous weapons of destruction
that left the buildings intact, but all the people dead."
     A rumble went up from the delegates, some of whom were now staring
at the President.
     "That fact alone should by itself, convince all of you who know of
the Alliance's history, of how they will gladly resort to any means
possible as a way of achieving their concept of what one of their
prominent soldiers, Commandant Leiter, described to me personally as 'the
Natural Order.'     On Paradeen, it was through the use of barbarous
weapons in which their only aim was not to exploit the resources of the
planet, since the Alliance never bothered to stay there, but to simply
kill the populace.  To devastate them, and insure from their standpoint
that Nationalist Civilization could not have a thriving outpost of its
own to offer a better model for living that could inspire those Terrans
who live under Alliance tyranny.  And in the manner in which they now
deal with your President, it is to use the weapons of fear and
exploitation.  To use a bullying show of force that then strikes fear of
endless destruction and endless conflict in well-meaning men and women. 
A fear that in the hearts of such well-meaning people becomes weariness
and a desire to see such seemingly endless conflict come to an end. 
*Any* kind of end, no matter what the cost."
     Apollo paused, "I can relate to all of this.  I can even understand
all of this, because.....my civilization, not very long ago, went through
the same experience.  With results that proved to be catastrophic in
every sense of the word.
     "What is this civilization I speak of?  It is a civilization that
for all intents and purposes no longer exists.  Not in the way I knew it. 
A civilization of twelve planets far across the galaxy.  Twelve worlds
that had reached a level of commerce and technological achievements
unparalleled in the knowledge of man.  These worlds had names.  Caprica. 
Gemon.  Sagitara.  Virgon.  Cancera.  Aeries.  Taurus.  Aquarius.  Leo. 
Skorpia.  Libra.  Piscera.  All of them pursuing their own, independent
destinies and glories, but united together in a framework of brotherhood
that brought our levels of prosperity to levels I think all Terrans would
have envied.
     "But unfortunately, while we were a united civilization at peace
with each other.  We were not allowed to enjoy the kind of permanent
peace that would have made our society the kind of limitless Utopia of
our greatest dreams.  For we discovered that while there were many alien
races of non-humanoid life forms that were happy to be our friends and
neighbors in mutually advantageous relationships......there was one race
that chose not to be our friend.  A race that based its principles on
ones identical to those that the Eastern Alliance preaches in their
doctrine of the Natural Order, and their belief in the inevitability of
History that it is their Destiny to control all things in their domain
through the use of force and terror.  This race we knew as the Cylon
Empire."
     As Apollo went on, the back of his mind was still asking the
question of how long it would be before there would be some kind of sign
from Starbuck or the Galactica.


     On the other side of the planet, the Supreme Commandant listened to
a report via phone hook-up from the Commander of the Alliance Missile
forces.  He then placed the phone down and looked back out at the members
of the Politburo.
     "Our missile systems are in place," he smiled smugly, "The die is
now cast.  We will launch our attack in exactly fifteen minutes."

                         Chapter Five

     "ETA to Terran system?" Adama asked his daughter as he passed her
console.
     "Ten centons, Commander," Athena said crisply, and then added,
"We're now close enough to signal our ships if either happens to be
airborne now."
     "Good, good," Adama nodded, "Try raising either one of them."
     Athena nodded and keyed in her transmitter, "Galactica Core Command
to Blue Leader or Blue Two.  Respond if you can on Alpha Hi-Gain."
     There was nothing at first, and Athena tried again, "Galactica Core
Command to Blue Leader or Blue Two.  Do you acknowledge on Alpha Hi-Gain
or any other frequency?"
     Finally, Athena heard a familiar, cocky voice in her headset.  "Core
Command this is Blue Two, and boy Athena, your voice never sounded
better."
     Athena relaxed in her chair, not letting any thought of the
bitterness she'd gone through with Starbuck in their breakup enter her
mind at all.
     "Commander!" she called over, "I've got Starbuck."
     "Put him on unicom so I can talk to him," Adama rushed back over
with Tigh right behind him.  "Starbuck, this is Commander Adama.  Report
your status, and also that of Captain Apollo."
     "We're both fine, Commander, but the situation on Terra is getting
out of control.  Apollo's been forced to reveal himself to the
Nationalist Government, and he needs some kind of visual demonstration
from the Galactica to get the Terrans to believe that he represents a
race from another civilization."
     Adama frowned, "Apollo's taking a very grave risk revealing that
much, but.....since the Alliance already has to know about us if Leiter
made a report to them, I guess that doesn't matter.  But....what exactly
does he expect us to do?"
     "Commander, I don't know, I kind of thought......"
     "Stand by, Starbuck, stand by," Adama switched off his headset and
shook his head dubiously, "Well that confounds things even further.  A
visual demonstration from us?  How can we do that short of using our
military strength, which is frankly the last thing I want to have to do."
     "Maybe," Tigh was fast trying to think of something, "Maybe we bring
the Galactica in close to Terra so they can detect us and see what we
represent?  After all, even Leiter and his men got intimidated by the
sight of us at first."
     "Yes, that might work."
     "Commander!" Omega reported urgently from his station, "We're
slowing down to normal speed.  Scanner reveals large concentration of
Alliance Destroyer ships positioned between the third planet of the
system and Terra in Delta three sector."
     "Readjust our heading so we end up approaching Terra from the other
side of her orbital path, and out of the sight of those Alliance ships!"
Adama barked, "The last thing I want to do is get in a tangle with them,
even if it would be one we'd likely win without difficulty."
     "Readjusting our course, sir."
     "Your hunch was right," Tigh grunted, "The Alliance pulled out all
their Destroyers from their outer colonies and brought them back close to
home.  As if....." he looked back at Adama, "As if maybe they were
planning to use them for a mass assault?"
     Adama put his hand to his chin, "Possible, but, I don't think they'd
just be using their Destroyers for something like that.  It looks more
like they have them moved back to a safe position for later use."
     "Later use?  You mean like for a mop-up operation."
     "Perhaps," Adama opened his channel again, "Starbuck, take a scan of
the planet.  Are you detecting anything unusual happening on the surface? 
Specifically in the Alliance territory?"
     "Just a micron," Starbuck quickly adjusted his scan beam. 
"Holy.....Commander, I'm getting a reading that shows all kinds of
surface activity across the Alliance Continent!  It almost reminds me of
something out of a fifth millennia kind of melodrama, back when....of
course!  Ground based missile launchers from underground launch
stations!"
     "Scan the weaponry, Starbuck!  Now!"
     "Scanning.....they're various shapes and sizes, probably many
different classes of weapons, but.....they're all armed with warheads of
some nuclear type.  If those things are launched at any part of the
planet, no telling what kind of destruction and radon contamination they
can cause."
     "Are they preparing to launch, Starbuck?"
     "I.....think they are, Commander!"
     "All right, I think maybe this is where we can act," Adama was using
every bit of knowledge he possessed about this old style weaponry that
had become obsolete in Colonial Civilization well over a thousand
yahrens.  "Starbuck, have you got us on your scanner now?"
     "Yeah, I've got you!  Don't worry about the Alliance Destroyers,
they're too far out to notice you based on the heading you're approaching
from."
     "Good.  Now, I want you to pull back to a higher orbital arc because
I don't want you caught in the crossfire that's going to happen.  But
you're needed to keep a fix on every last missile that comes up from
there, and verify visually whether we're successful in destroying every
one that gets launched."
     "But Commander, if the full arsenal gets launched there'll be
thousands of them!"
     "Starbuck, don't worry about that, we can handle them!  Just get to
a higher orbital arc!"
     "Yes sir," Starbuck pulled back on his control stick so his viper
could assume a position higher above the planet surface.
     "Commander?" Tigh looked over at him, still not sure what Adama was
thinking.
     "Tigh," Adama said, "I want the Galactica in position to emit the
full power of our tractor beam on a wide arc covering the planet."
     "But what good would....." Tigh stopped and nodded, "Of course.  The
properties in our tractor beam would cause those kinds of missiles to
blow up before they were full armed if they happened to pass through it."
     "Yes.  A simple, routine part of our equipment holds the key to
destroying the most fearful item in their arsenal." he paused, "If we're
successful, we'll not only have given Apollo his proof, but we'll more
importantly have likely stopped the Alliance dead in their tracks from
doing to the Nationalists what the Cylons did to us."


     "Countdown to first strike in one minute," a voice filled the
speakers in the Politburo bunker.
     "One minute," the Supreme Commandant smiled, "One minute to the
fulfillment of our dreams."


     As Apollo went on, he related in as concise a way as he could, the
Colonial-Cylon war, and how after a thousand yahrens of fighting,
weariness and the desire for peace had replaced vigor and determination
in waging a just struggle.
     "It was that spirit of weakness, and the desire to see peace at all
costs, that the Cylons exploited to launch their greatest act of
treachery," Apollo said, "The end result.....our leaders, well-meaning
men, struck a peace treaty with the Cylons filled with many of the terms
like those you heard not long ago from your President in his agreement
with the Alliance.  A promise to respect each other in a new spirit of
cooperation and to renounce war as an instrument of policy.  A promise
that if fulfilled would end a thousand long yahrens of seemingly endless
conflict that had haunted the dreams and nightmares of countless
generations of men, women and children who had never thought they could
see peace come about.
     "But it was all a lie.  On the night that we thought the peace
treaty would go into effect, ending that long, bitter war.....the Cylons
launched a devastating sneak attack on Colonial Civilization.  All of our
great warships except my own, the Galactica were destroyed because of our
state of unpreparedness.  And all of the twelve planets I spoke
of.....were reduced to smouldering wrecks of ashes.
     "How much death took place in one night?  Consider this.  At the
time of this Holocaust, the twelve planets combined to a population of
some 14 billion men, women and children.  Today, we the survivors of that
Holocaust, travel through the stars in some 200 odd ships.....with but
70,000 of that original figure."
     A sharp gasp went up from the crowd.  Apollo noticed that Maxwell,
Stone and Watts almost seemed on the verge of tears from hearing his
story.  But on the other side of the chamber, the President was
impatiently drumming his fingers against the leg of his chair and doing a
slow, angry burn.
     "So you see," Apollo went on, "I came from a civilization that in
our most desperate time believed as so many of you here do, that the
opposite of war was peace.  But now, those of us who are still alive have
found out the hard way, that the opposite of war.....can sometimes be the
worst form of slavery imaginable.  And that the *only* thing that could
have prevented our Destruction, our Holocaust, was strength.  *Strength*. 
Not the strength of a bloodthirsty people that desired to apply force
through means of conquest as a way of intimidating our enemy, but rather
the strength that *any* noble people that bases their society from a just
set of values and principles is capable of summoning in a crisis when
they are confronted by the dark forces of evil and tyranny.  The strength
that reveals to our enemy how committed we are to the cause of individual
freedom and liberty....and how we are even prepared to sacrifice much to
uphold those principles.  Not a sacrifice that means the destruction of
all things, but rather a sacrifice that lets our enemy know how he can
only succeed in his evil purpose if he is willing to pay a price that
even he is not willing to pay.  And then, the enemy is forced to change
tactics, and if he is pressed long enough, through a never-ending
vigorous commitment.....then at some point, the Inevitability of History
is not on the side of his perverse doctrines, but on the side of those
who stand for the principles that are worth enduring for all time."
     Apollo then took a step back from the podium, "I thank you, for
giving me your time.  And I hope and pray that you will heed my words of
advice and warning, and not let Terran Civilization suffer the same sad
fate that befell my own."
     Before anyone in the chamber could give any kind of reaction to
Apollo's words, the President had bolted to his feet and made his way
over to Apollo with a disdainful air.
     "Very theatrical of you, General Maxwell," he kept his gaze on the
general, "But if you feel compelled to have your friends offer us these
lurid fantasies as your only argument against the reality of my treaty
with the Alliance, then that shows how desperate you've become."
     "Captain Apollo speaks the truth!" Maxwell stepped forward, "And I
am certain that he is capable of providing us with a sign that he is
exactly who he claims to be!"
     "How?" the President scoffed, "Show us some proof, Captain? 
Convince me and my colleagues that you come from some.....advanced
civilization and aren't just a person who escaped from a Terran asylum,
as you seem to me!"
     Before Apollo could say anything else a loud, ugly sounding alarm
filled the chamber.  Stone urgently went over to a red phone mounted on
the wall and picked it up while the other members rose to their feet,
each with urgent expressions on their face.
     "What's happening?" the President blurted above the din of the alarm
and the frantic murmurs in the crowd, "What the Hell's happening?"
     Stone put the phone back on the wall mount, and then went over to a
control switch that enabled him to kill the sound of the alarm.  He then
walked toward the President with a contemptuous expression.
     "What's happened Mr. President, is that our Delta Spy Satellite,
which thankfully we did not see fit to have scrapped in spite of your
order to do so two years ago, is reporting that the Alliance has just
launched her entire arsenal of missiles at us."
     "What?" the President was horror-struck.  "That....can't be!  I have
their signatures on this...." he looked down at the leather bound treaty
he'd been clutching all the time, "They can't."
     "Well they have," Maxwell's voice showed no pity.  "That means in
three minutes, our missile systems will kick in and launch back at them. 
And all we have left now is the hope that the Supreme Commandant will
realize just how much his gamble cost him."
     "No," the President collapsed in a chair in the front row while all
the members in the galleries began scrambling toward the exits.  "No."
     Apollo stared at the pitiful sight of the man and his mind flashed
back to the sight of President Adar, standing on the devastated bridge of
the Atlantia just microns before it exploded, realizing the horror of his
error only when it had been too late.
     "How could I have been so.....completely wrong?  I have led the
entire human race to ruin."
     He looked up, wondering if there was going to be any miracle left
for the people of Terra.  And suddenly, he saw John, sitting all by
himself in a rapidly emptying section of the Gallery.  His expression
seemingly nonchalant.  In fact, he was even sure he could see the
Guardian smiling at him.
     "Apollo," he felt Watts's hand grabbing him by the shoulder. 
"Hurry.  We can make it to one of the lower level bunkers if we move
now."
     Apollo looked at the man whose identity he had been forced to
assume.  "It really doesn't offer any real protection, does it?"
     Watts sagged slightly and shook his head, "No, I won't bullshit you. 
It doesn't."
     "Then we might as well just ride it out from here," he pointed up to
where he could see John sitting.  "If you can see him, he seems to act as
if things are going to be okay."
     Watts stared up at the sight of John with a quizzical air, "Who is
he?"
     "I struggle a lot trying to figure that out," Apollo sighed,
"But.....I just get the feeling that he's one person who has to know if
things are going to work out or not."
     "How?"
     "If Starbuck got word to the Galactica, then....." Apollo didn't
finish verbalizing the thought when he suddenly saw John nod his head
vigorously in the affirmative.
     "Incredible," Watts felt a sense of awe, "As if he could read your
mind from there."
     "Apollo!  Charlie!"  Maxwell called over, "Let's get out of here!"
     Apollo looked back at Maxwell, "Just hang tight, General.  I think
things are about to take a dramatic turn for the better."


     "We're in position, Commander," Omega's sense of urgency was rising
with each passing micron, "Force beam is now ready.  Missiles are about
to reach the ionosphere....."
     "Activate tractor beam on wide dispersal angle, now!" Adama barked.
     At that instant, a pulsating beam shot out of the battlestar's
forward area toward the surface of Terra below.  Ordinarily such a device
was used to take ships under tow, with a widely dispersed beam capable of
having an entire small convoy of ships being safely pulled.  Now, this
routine feature of the Galactica was serving a far different purpose.
     Watching from above where he could see the beam emit from the
Galactica which was now beneath him, Starbuck immediately saw a large
number of explosions erupt above the planet surface.  Not from the
missiles impacting, but from the force beam effects causing the circuitry
in them to overload and explode, all at a point well before the warheads
in them had a chance to be fully armed.  In the end, the explosion of the
missile wasn't even taking place at a point where they could be damage to
the atmosphere.  Instead, anyone below on the surface would just be
seeing a harmless visual display reminiscent of a massive fireworks show.
     "Commander, it's working!" Starbuck felt an air of giddiness inside
him, "It's practically causing a chain reaction.  One missile explodes
and then it fracks up the others and now they're destroying each other!"
     "Keep watching your scanner to make sure not a single missile gets
through to its target!" Adama barked, "If that happens you're to train
your laser on it and destroy it that way!"
     "Copy, copy!" Starbuck tried to calm himself down as he kept
watching.  "Boy, I'd give a million cubits to see the faces on the guys
who launched those suckers!"


     The Supreme Commandant had begun to pace back and forth waiting for
word to come through from the Missile Force Commander on the results of
the first strike.  Instead, he was only getting silence.  Finally, he
stopped pacing and picked up the phone that would connect him to the
Commander.
     "Well?" he barked.
     "Countdown is at minus ten."
     "Minus ten means the impact should have begun!" he raised his voice,
"What is the report on damage to the Nationalist territory?  Hits? 
Near-misses?  What??"
     "Uh..."
     "What does 'uh-uh' mean?" he spluttered.
     There was a long pause before the Missile Force Commander finally
summoned a reply.  "The data, Excellence, is revealing that none of our
missiles have hit their targets.  In fact......the indications are that
they have all blown up in mid-air."
     "What?" the Supreme Commandant thundered, "That is impossible! 
Totally impossible!  Keep watching!" he slammed the phone down and then
glared at the Commander of Alliance Intelligence.
     "You.  Canaris.  Your reports were quite clear that the Nationalists
have no anti-missile systems at their disposal."
     "No sir," Intelligence Chief Canaris hesitated, "None.... that we
are aware of at least.  We do know that the President was quite adamant
in his public opposition to the development of such a system."
     "But.....if they clearly have one now, then.....that means they have
a shield that covers their entire territory impervious to all forms of
attack!"
     The Intelligence Chief slowly exhaled, "It....certainly appears that
way.  There is no rational explanation otherwise to explain what has
happened."
     The Supreme Commandant lowered his head, "Have I....become the
victim of an elaborate deception?  The President playing the part of a
weak fool to the point where he sacrificed his satellites to get me to
think I could launch this attack that has....." he almost seemed to
cringe in horror, "Left us with no missile arsenal of our own, and put us
in a position where we could be vulnerable to wave after wave of attack
from their own forces.  They....they never even launched a missile of
their own at us in retaliation!"
     "Our destroyers-," the Army Commander offered.
     "They would be less than worthless against this kind of weapon!" the
Supreme Commandant cut him off.  "If they can repel our missiles, then
what good would firepower from a puny destroyer do to them?"
     Canaris, who had always developed a reputation as one of the more
moderate voices in the Alliance government, and one who had personal
doubts about the infallibility of Alliance Philosophy, decided it was
time to put some of those views out into the open.
     "Excellence," he said gently, "If it is true that we find ourselves
in this....vulnerable position, then perhaps the time has come to
negotiate an agreement with them in more.....good faith, as it were?"
     "Yes," the Supreme Commandant was fast realizing that all his dreams
lay shattered and needed to be repaired quickly if there was to be any
hope for the future.  "Yes, even if we must surrender back the satellite
worlds to their control just to guarantee that they won't use that shield
any further, we must do it!  We can use the inevitability of history to
our advantage but only if we have a stable base here to build from!  That
must be preserved at all cost!"
     An uneasy silence hung in the air, and finally it was Canaris who
broke it.  "Shall I have the direct-line to the Nationalist Capitol
activated?"
     "Yes," the Supreme Commandant sat down, seemingly in another world
now, "See to it.  I will call upon the President at his convenience. 
Whatever terms he asks of us....we should be prepared to give in full."
     Slowly, the members of the Politburo began to file out of the room. 
None of them with the strength to say anything.

     "I don't believe it," a stunned Maxwell came up to Apollo, "The
Alliance missiles all destroyed.....and so quickly that our own missiles
weren't even in a launch ready condition, so that means.....we have an
intact arsenal and they have nothing left."
     "It changes the balance of power dynamic between the two of you
greatly, doesn't it?" Apollo wryly smiled.
     "Yes, it.....more than compensates for where the Alliance went ahead
of us these last few years, though God knows launching a sneak attack of
our own isn't what we'd want to do."
     "Of course," Apollo nodded, "That's the difference between your
values and theirs, General.  You would never use your intact arsenal that
way against them.  But.....you can use that to your advantage
diplomatically and achieve results that will keep the Alliance from
engaging in their genocide again."
     "Yes," Maxwell shook his head in amazement again, "Apollo.....how
was that accomplished?"
     "General, I don't think I should give you the specifics. 
Just...chalk that up to what has become possible in a civilization ahead
of your own.....and consider it an indicator of what we'd been able to
achieve on all levels before our own Destruction."
     "Yes," Maxwell nodded sadly.  "I....understand."
     "Well now that the danger has passed, Apollo," Watts spoke up, "What
happens to you?  And your people?"
     "I don't know, Colonel Watts," Apollo shook his head, "That decision
isn't mine to make.  It ultimately rests with our Council of Twelve and
our Fleet Commander, who happens to be my father.  We have....given
consideration to approaching you directly about the possibility of
settling ourselves in your civilization, but.....there are some factors
mitigating against that possibility.  Not the least of which is the fact
that the last thing we'd want to do is inadvertently bring our own
conflict with the Cylon Empire into your presence."
     "Apollo, just speaking for myself, I wish you and your people would
stay with us," Watts said genuinely, "There's much to admire in you,
and.....much that we could learn."
     "Maybe our presence here to at least help you gain the upper hand in
this struggle with the Alliance was all we needed to achieve," Apollo
said, touched by his remark    "At the very least, you've had a chance to
learn how to avoid our fate, and preserve all that you've achieved in
your history.  That's one thing all of my people wish we could still have
at this point."
     Just then, the door to the chamber opened and an out of breath
Brenda ran into the room.
     "Brenda!" Maxwell went over to his daughter and hugged her.
     "Oh, Dad, thank God you're all okay.  I can't believe what I've been
hearing on the radio.  It's really over now?"
     "I think so."  she looked over at Apollo, "I saw Starbuck take off. 
I don't know if he-,"
     "Don't worry," Apollo smiled.  "I know he did.  He's probably back
home on the Galactica now."
     "And it's time for you to be returning as well, Apollo."
     Apollo's head darted around, as did Watts, and they both saw John
standing there.  The Terran Colonel said nothing as John came up to him
and touched his shoulder.  In an instant, the color of Watts' pants
returned to its original black, and he blinked several times as if he was
now looking for something he could no longer see.
     "He can no longer see me," John said, "Come, Apollo.  Your task is
done now."
     Apollo looked back at the three Terrans.  "I....have to go now.  As
I said, I....can't predict what will happen next, but......I do want to
say it's been an honor and a privilege to have met all of you.  Godspeed
to all of you and your people."
     He then turned and slowly began to walk away, not wanting to look
back.  There was only awed silence from the three Terrans, but when
Apollo disappeared through the door, Watts and Brenda both felt the urge
to run after him.
     "Apollo!" Brenda called out.  But when she and Watts entered the
corridor there was no one there.
     "Where did he go?" she asked in disbelief.
     "Back to where he belongs, I guess," Watts sighed and wrapped an arm
around her waist, "Just as I'm glad to be back where I belong, Brenda."
     She looked him in the eye and then slowly, they came together in a
long kiss.


     "John," Apollo said as he and the Guardian walked through a
well-lit, empty Terran street located outside the Presidium Building,
"Can I ask you something?"
     "That all depends, Apollo."
     "John, we already know that Terra isn't Earth.  We learned that from
the map Starbuck found on Paradeen, and the fact that this system doesn't
match the one you described when you gave us that.....revelation the last
time about the coordinates.  But.....just what *is* the connection
between this civilization and the Thirteenth Tribe?  Or is there any kind
of connection between where this group of humans came from and where we
first came from?"
     "I'm sorry, Apollo," John shook his head, "I can't tell you that. 
Not even most of the Terrans know about where they first came from.  You
heard the President refer to their Sacred Texts, and those are documents
only the barest handful of Terrans have ever had access to."
     "How can that be?"
     "Apollo, I will only say this.  The circumstances of how this
civilization on Terra came to be are of no consequence whatsoever to the
immediate tasks that await you and your people.  Perhaps there will come
a time when it will be possible for you to know the story, but only when
it will be of relevance to your plight.  And I won't even confirm or deny
to you that such relevance will ever exist." he paused, "I'm sorry,
Apollo, but there are strict rules of conduct that all of us Guardians
are bound by.  You more than anyone else know of the consequences that
arise from any kind of violation of those rules, whether it be by us, who
would only do it out of foolish well-meaning, or by the likes of Count
Iblis who would do so for purposes of pure evil."
     "I understand that," Apollo said, "I'm not trying to make you
violate a sacred commandment, John, but.....if that is so, then how was
it possible for you to give us those coordinates to Earth?"
     "All we did was point you in the right direction, Apollo," John
said, "To tell you it lies on that heading.  Not how many yahrens will it
be before you find it, or if you'll find it tomorrow, or whether you're
meant to find it at all.  That decision must stem entirely from your own
actions.  Just as all of the decisions you've made here on Terra to help
end this war stemmed only from your own actions, with the only roll I
played, one of clearing up some needless barriers....just as your
people's lack of knowledge on the correct heading to Earth was a needless
barrier that we could remove."
     Apollo was finding himself feeling humbled and almost ashamed for
taking such a questioning attitude.  Still, he knew that he'd had to ease
his conscience.
     "There is one thing about how this has been settled," Apollo said,
"The Alliance thinks their missiles were destroyed by a Nationalist
weapon, and that's why they're now ready to sue for peace on their terms. 
But Commandant Leiter knows all about the Galactica.  If we leave the
Terran system and proceed, he's bound to tell his superiors."
     "Actually, Commandant Leiter isn't going to be getting that
opportunity.  At least not for a very long while, if ever," John said
cryptically, "I wouldn't worry about him." he then paused and smiled, "Do
you have any other burning questions on your mind, Apollo?"
     The black-haired captain sighed and let out smile filled with
resignation.  "I guess not."
     "Then time for you to go home, Apollo.  And....just to expedite
matters....."
     He waved his arm, and suddenly Apollo saw that he was no longer on
the brightly lit street outside the Presidium Building, but back in front
of his Viper.  And he could also see that his uniform had returned to a
normal color.
     And he could also tell that somehow......his memory wasn't as clear
it had been about certain things before.  Especially with regard to
the....Guardians.  Indeed, as of that instant, all memories that had been
restored to him of the details surrounding his first visit with the
Guardians aboard their Ship of Lights  had now evaporated like the
morning mist.  
     He let out a sigh as he mounted up into the cockpit, and prepared
himself for the journey home.  

                         Epilogue

     "You have all seen the final report from Captain Apollo and
Lieutenant Starbuck," Adama said before a special meeting of the Council
of Twelve.  "It paints a picture of a civilization that I think
increasingly shows signs of one that may in fact regard a permanent
presence on our part to be more of a hindrance, were we to choose the
option of staying and settling our population in the Terran system."
     He looked around the table at the members, most of whom still had
subdued and chastened expressions as a lingering trace of the humiliation
they'd experienced when most of the members had been prisoners of the
Alliance during the escape that Baltar had engineered.  A situation that
had arisen entirely out of their impulsive anger with Adama at a critical
juncture when the Terran situation had first unfolded with the discovery
of Michael and Sarah's ship.  Adama knew that at this point, the
Council's political stock was at an all-time low with the people, and
that made them more willing to accept anything he put forth at this
point.
     "I believe, after much careful consideration, that ultimately our
destiny does not lie with these people just as our destiny did not lie
with any of the other human settlements we passed in the earlier stage of
our journey.  The Terran civilization, whatever the circumstances
surrounding their origins, are totally independent of our own traditions,
and have their own culture and history to maintain.  I do not think that
the imposition of a large population that is at such variance with their
own, would ultimately be beneficial to them, or to us, even though it
would admittedly bring perhaps a limited number of material rewards."
     Adama brought his hands together, "I will admit though, that if we
lacked the knowledge that the Thirteenth Tribe and the Planet Earth does
lie ahead of us on the Epsilon 22 heading we've been following for some
time now, I would perhaps be inclined to view the case for settlement
more favorably.  But in this context, with that knowledge and the
realization that out there should lie a brother tribe with a more
definable connection to our society than *any* other human settlement,
regardless of where it first came from, might have, I think we would be
turning our backs on our very Destiny if we were to abandon our quest. 
And of course there is also the consideration that since we can never be
completely sure that the danger of Cylon pursuit is truly gone forever,
it would not be in the Terrans long-term interest to create a situation
where the Cylons might stumble on to their civilization."
     He paused, "I have thus, made my decision that we will not settle
our people in the Terran system, but will instead continue our journey to
Earth.  If there is any objection to this decision that I have made under
terms of the Martial Law edict, please state them for the record at this
time, now."
     None of the members said anything.  Adama found it amazing that the
experience of the prison break had left them this chastened.  Perhaps it
was in part a subliminal desire for those like Domra or Geller to never
be reminded of the humiliation again if they put Terra and the Alliance
behind them forever.
     "If there is no objection, the Council stands adjourned," Adama
rapped his gavel, bringing the one-sided meeting to an end.


     "The prisoner is here as you requested, Group Commandant."
     An uneasy Kronstadt looked up from his desk and saw that the two
guards had brought a shackled Leiter into the room.  Despite the fact
that he now had several large bruises across his face, the Destroyer
Commander still had his entire uniform intact, including his hat, and he
had made every attempt to keep his bearing erect despite the tortures
he'd undergone.
     "I told you to unchain him!" he motioned impatiently, "Do it now!"
     The guards did so.  As soon as the chains came off, Leiter promptly
rubbed his bruised wrists, but still said nothing, giving the Group
Commandant only an impervious stare.
     "Some interesting developments have taken place on Terra, as you are
no doubt aware."
     "I have heard," Leiter finally spoke haughtily.  "Your guards are
quite the talkative sort.  They could never be entrusted to keep a
secret."
     "The Supreme Commandant has sued for peace on terms favorable to the
Nationalists," Kronstadat said, "As of next week, this post will be
abandoned to Nationalist control and we shall be concetrating a reduced
garrison on Lunar 1 only."
     Leiter let out a sardonic laugh, "And if we were to violate the
terms of this agreement, the Supreme Commandant fears that the
Nationalists will use their great shield upon us again?"
     "What do you think, Commandant Leiter?" Kronstadt looked him in the
eye.
     "That the Nationalists have no such shield," Leiter said with dry
contempt, "That whatever caused the destruction of our missile arsenal,
was entirely the doing of those who were responsible for my own
captivity."
     Kronstadt nodded, "As I thought."
     "What a pity you didn't think about that when I first tried to tell
you my story of what my men and I went through," Leiter was determined to
show him no niceties.  "Had the Supreme Commandant been appraised of what
I alone knew about what was out there, he would have certainly
reconsidered his attack on the Nationalists that resulted in the loss of
our first strike capability while the Nationalists still have all of
theirs at their disposal."
     Kronstadt stiffened in his chair.
     "In short, Group Commandant, your imbecilic bungling is directly
responsible for why we shall be turning this planet back over to the
Nationalists and everything else our side has now lost in this war." 
Leiter's contemptuous tone deepened.  "Consider what would happen to you
if you proceeded with my show-trial, and I felt compelled to repeat all
of what I have just said to the one representative from the Politburo who
would be required to sit in on the proceedings."
     Leiter then paused for effect so he could smirk at him, "And
consider also that if you decided to bury your problem by having me
executed before the show-trial could commence, you'd be held in violation
of all Alliance statutes dealing with the disposition of prisoners, and
given that my own reputation in most Alliance military circles is quite
high, I doubt very much you'd survive the ensuing scrutiny that would
follow."
     Kronstadt leaned back in his chair, trying not to show any signs of
fear, even though inside he knew that Leiter had him exactly where he
wanted him.
     "If I have you and your men released," he said, "What will it take
for you to say to anyone else in the Alliance government, that you know
absolutely nothing about any alien force out there that may have assisted
the Nationalists?"
     "What will it take?" Leiter guffawed, "Well, we might start with
your resignation from the Service, since if the Alliance is to have any
hope of recovering her strength the best place to start is to weed out a
rank incompetent like yourself."
     Kronstadt brought his hands together, "And what else?"
     "Giving me your command," Leiter said, "I've suddenly decided that
in this diminished Alliance, I can afford to be more.....ambitious about
my future, than I might have otherwise been in the past."
     "Done," Kronstadt rose, "All the necessary arrangements in the
official record pertaining to your disappearance and everything that
happened afterward will be taken care of to assure both of these
outcomes.  And.....the matter of what you saw and experienced during your
disappearance need not ever come up with anyone else?"
     "What I saw?" Leiter lifted an eyebrow, his voice dripping with the
greatest level of saracasm, "Why I saw nothing, Group Commandant. 
*Nothing*"
     Kronstadt's jaw was trembling from an unspeakable inner fury that he
knew he could never display again.  "Dismissed."
     "Of course," Leiter bowed with mock formality and left Kronstadt's
office.
     When he stepped out into the empty compound of the Air Station, he
found himself instinctively looking up at the starlit heavens.
     Someday, somehow, Commander Adama.  Our paths will cross again.

The End
Posted: October 8, 2006