Battlestar Galactica: Greetings From Earth By Eric Paddon Epaddon@aol.com Prologue "How much longer?" The black-suited man shot an annoyed glance at the brown-haired man whose silver suit stood out against the night. Why did he insist on wearing that stupid outfit? He thought. It makes him stand out like a beacon. Still, he held his tongue, "Just hang tight. I can't make a move until the lead guard goes, and it's just the one remaining guard patrolling the hangar." "We could take them both out-----" "Not when you're wearing that color outfit," he decided to let it out, "Just what were you thinking anyway?" The brown-haired man's nostrils flared, "This is standard for all of us! You know tech-workers and farmers can't afford to----" "Yeah, yeah, I know." he waved a hand, and then coughed once, "Damn, it's so hard to breathe here." "Occupational hazard, eh, Colonel?" the brown-haired man noted, "How much longer do you think you can stay here?" "Long enough to get my job done," the Colonel shot a glance back at the hangar entrance. Two black-suited guards continued to pace back and forth. "Though believe me, after what I've seen here on Luna Seven, I shouldn't even bother checking the inner satellites. What's happened here is proof enough of what the Alliance is up to." "But I take it, you still plan on going to Luna One before returning to Terra," "I have no choice," he grunted, "General Maxwell is expecting me. We need to get the best possible evidence to present to the Presidium and prove that our President is preparing to sell us down the river completely. And Luna One offers the best hope of that." "Good luck," the brown-haired man said, his impatience rising, "The more I learn about what life is like on Terra, the more I consider it a blessing that I can never visit it, let alone live there." "I sometimes wish it could be the same with me," the Colonel grunted as he trained his binoculars on the entrance, "Okay....he's finally going. He's on his way to get his relief for the next three hours who patrols with the remaining guard for two hours when his relief comes. That give us a window of.....ten minutes as soon as he disappears.....now!" The black-suited Colonel got to his feet and assumed an erect bearing as he began to approach the hangar. As he watched, the brown-haired man gingerly stepped back toward the land vehicle ten feet away, where a large canvas tarp covered the back end. "Sarah," he whispered urgently as he pulled back the tarp, "It's time!" A striking blonde woman in her late twenties, wearing a silver suit identical to his stuck her head out and quickly got out of the vehicle. Behind her were three children, a boy and girl no older then six, and an older girl of twelve. "Hurry, children," she whispered, "We're going to move soon." "Assuming our would-be-benefactor Colonel Watts is as good as he says he is," the man sighed as he focused his attention back toward the hangar. "Michael, do you really think we could have gotten this far without him?" Michael shook his head, "No. Even with all the programming I've done for the ship, figuring a way past the guards and getting off this planet safely would have taken a lot longer if he hadn't shown up." Sarah sighed, "I know I should feel grateful to him, and yet....there's something so unlikable about him." "I know what you mean," Michael admitted, "But I guess that's why he's such an enigma." As Colonel Watts approached the black-suited guard, he gave him a rigid salute. "Halt!" the guard drew his weapon. "Take it easy son, I'm Colonel Terzov from Alliance Security. Didn't the Commandant notify you I'd be here?" The guard frowned, "Well....no. I...." he snapped back to attention, "I need to see your identification." "Of course," Watts smiled and then in one quick motion whipped out a pistol armed with a silencer. His superior training enabled him to shoot the guard between the eyes before he could have a chance to react. As soon as the guard fell to the ground, Colonel Watts turned around and gestured frantically. Immediately, Michael, Sarah and the three children sprinted across the open runway space as fast as they could go. By the time they reached the hangar building, Colonel Watts was hastily inserting the dead guard's pass card into the automatic lock. "Got it!" he said in triumph, "Now get inside!" The five silver-suited people sprinted inside, followed by the Colonel. In front of them were two ships. One, a small, one man shuttlecraft. The second, a much bigger craft, orange-colored and sleek in its contours. "Well, there they are," Colonel Watts said proudly, "Our one-way tickets off this planet forever." he turned to Michael, "Got your magic programming disc ready?" Michael tapped the pocket of his suit and nodded. "All right," Watts said as he checked his watch, "We've got seven minutes before the other guard comes back. I'll take off first and make use of the gun mounts to distract Field Security long enough while you high-tail it out of here, fast. And I hope you can get clear of the tracking before they can get any Destroyers into the area." "I know what to do," Michael said as he motioned Sarah to lead the children inside the larger craft, "I've studied the components of this ship so much and flown the simulators so many times I feel like I'm already proficient when it comes to flying it for as long as I have to." "Well, you'll only get one chance to see how good you are," he paused as his expression grew thoughtful, "You really think Paradeen will be safe for you?" "It should be," Michael nodded, "After all, we both know what the Alliance did there. There's no reason they should be bothering with it again." "True," Colonel Watts then extended his hand, "Good luck to you, Michael." The brown-haired man took the offered hand and shook it, "And to you too, Colonel Watts. I hope your mission is successful." "Well if it isn't, you'll find out someday," he said nonchalantly as he then headed up the steps and into the shuttle. Michael lingered only for another second before he hurried over to the orange ship and entered it. When he got inside, he saw Sarah was helping the three children step into several pod like chambers. "That should wait until we're away!" He protested. Sarah turned around, "What difference does it make?" "None," he admitted and moved over to the control panel where he stuck a computer disc into the main terminal. Immediately, a number of systems began to power themselves up. As Sarah continued to help load the children in and secure their chambers, Michael went forward to the cockpit section, where he nervously settled himself into his chair. Through the windows, he could see the shuttle light up and hear the roar of its engines come to life. As he watched the shuttle move out through the hangar doors, he fired up the engines of the craft and with trepidation began to maneuver the control stick so it followed the shuttle out. When the craft broke out into the clear night, he could see the shuttle begin to pick up speed. Just as Michael pushed the stick forward so his craft could gain speed, he suddenly saw a number of red lights start to flash all around the air strip. Clearly, their escape had now been spotted. Michael watched the shuttle rise from the ground and saw it abruptly turn at an angle. White flashes erupted, indicating that it was now opening fire somewhere on the base below. As soon as the shuttle was out of his field of vision, Michael then hit the switches that made the spacecraft become airborne. And then....a nervous waiting period as the night sky turned into the darker vision of space. And then, checking the scanner to see if anyone was following him. But so far, all signs indicated nothing. "I think we've made it!" he finally allowed himself a happy burst. He activated the automatic pilot that would take the spacecraft out of Luna Seven's gravitational pull, and then dashed back to the control console in the mid-section of the ship where he had loaded the computer disc. He activated the switches and then a new burst of activity took place on the terminals. "Automatic heading now engaged. Computer control now initiating course heading according to programmed sequence." A computer voice filled the spacecraft. And then, a pause and the voice said, "Course is now set for the planet Paradeen. Estimated time of arrival in two months flight time." Behind him, Sarah let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God," she whispered. "We've made it." "And no sign of Alliance pursuit," Michael rose from the terminal. "Colonel Watts' decoy appeared to work." "Do you think he made it?" Michael shrugged, "Who's to say? But we can't concern ourselves with that, Sarah. His mission, his cause, the whole damned war, can't concern us any longer. We have to think only of ourselves from now on." "I agree," she glanced back at the chambers where the three children lay motionless under the glass pods. "And of them too." For only an instant, Michael thought of hugging her to show his relief and gratitude. But then he remembered that it probably wouldn't be a good idea even under these circumstances. "Come on," he said, "Let's get ready. We've got a long night's sleep ahead of us." From The Adama Journals In the time that has passed since the internal crises surrounding both the Borellian Nomen's plot to stage a revolt aboard their ship, and the murder tribunal of Lieutenant Starbuck, for which by the Lords' good graces he was acquitted, we have at last been able to resume the bulk of our energies towards the goal of searching for clues that might lead us to the Thirteenth Tribe and the planet Earth. We continue to follow those coordinates given to us by that strange and mysterious race of beings from a ship of lights, which we know must one day lead us to Earth, but without any sense of whether it will come in a day, or in a thousand yahrens. With my time not preoccupied by internal crises, it gives me an opportunity to ponder more the true nature of those beings who I feel rescued us from the evil intentions of the mysterious figure who called himself Count Iblis. Are my own suppositions that they represent that higher being man is destined to become upon his death, when he can become one step closer to the Almighty? Or do they in fact represent something less supernatural? Perhaps a race of beings who reflect a common origin with man that goes even further back then the emergence of life on Kobol itself, and who have learned to evolve and develop at rates far beyond our comprehension? Such would be the skeptic's interpretation of those beings. My faith makes me prefer to think of the former as the more likely possibility. Any sign that proves to us that we live in a universe where the absolute forces of Good, as well as Evil, are real, proves as well the existence of a just and merciful God who is ultimately in control of all forces of history. And if there is a sign of that, then we can live with the hope that somehow, somewhere, our journey that has taken us so far across the stars from our homes, and into this vast unknown dimension of uncharted space, will not have been in vain. Chapter One Six centars had elapsed since Starbuck and Apollo had begun their long-range patrol sweep ahead of the Fleet on the Epsilon 22 course. To Apollo, it had seemed even longer then that because the whole time, Starbuck had not been able to stop pumping him for all the insider details surrounding the blonde lieutenant's recent experience that had seen him stand trial for a murder he had not committed. ".....I still don't get what Charybdis' original plan was," Starbuck said, not for the first time during the patrol. Apollo rolled his eyes as he realized he'd have to go over this again, "I'll try to explain it slowly this time, Starbuck. Chella, the guy you nearly ran over leaving the locker room, was the original fall guy in Charybdis' plan. He knew that Ortega had been blackmailing Chella as well as him, so he set things up to lure Chella down to those levels, kill him, and then set it up to make it look like Chella and Charybdis had killed each other." "Well if that was the case, why'd he pick on me instead?" "Because your getting yourself ejected from the game, fouled up his plans," Apollo said. "He now had to deal with you roaming those levels as well, and that meant he didn't have time to eliminate both Chella and Ortega. So in the space of three centons, he figured out that if he could catch you in the turbo wash with your laser pistol lying unguarded in the locker room, he'd solve all his problems." The captain paused, "So the moral of the story, Starbuck, is never let yourself get ejected from a triad game again." "Yeah," the blonde warrior chuckled, "I learned my lesson about that the hard way. But I got to tell you, that was really a big gamble you took that Baltar would come through. What made you think he'd turn on Charybdis?" "I had to consider their past history," Apollo said as he took a quick glance at his scanner to reconfirm that nothing was there for them to investigate. In another forty centons they'd reach the end of their limit and would begin the return to the Galactica. "Charybdis was Baltar's pilot. The one who was sitting in a shuttle in the Atlantia's launch bay waiting to get him off safely before the attack began. Now that means that either Baltar trusted him to wait there until he was ready, or he forced him to wait until the last micron. Which do you think more likely to have happened?" "The latter," Starbuck admitted. "Which means that no matter how loyal an operative Charybdis was, Baltar never trusted him to begin with." "And so logically, he never would have trusted him in that situation of me lying dead, and him being the only remaining person in the Fleet who could identify Charybdis and provide a tie-in to our defense to get you off the hook." Apollo paused, "The one thing you can't deny about Baltar is that he's never willing to be consistent when it comes to matters of his own survival. That's the only bottom line with him." "Guess so. I suppose I should be grateful just a bit to that piece of bilge scum, but.....even I have my limits." The captain laughed, "I know what you mean. And believe me, just from the look on his face, I know he wasn't glad he had to be in the position of saving me and you." "You were telling me the Commander made some kind of adjustment in his sentence?" "Not a significant one. He's still in the Prison Barge for life, but no longer in Solitary Confinement. He's free to move about the Prison Barge with the regular prison population now." The blonde lieutenant snorted, "Given the kind of people there are on the Prison Barge to begin with, I'm not sure he'd consider that an improvement." "Maybe not, but there isn't anything Baltar could do that would make my father think of commuting his sentence." The sound of a piercing beep then filled both of their cockpits. Immediately, both warriors shifted their attention back to their scanners. "Apollo, my scanner just went crazy with a contact. Reads as a ship, but nothing that even closely resembles anything in our database." "That takes care of our first concern. It isn't anything Cylon," Apollo checked his computer. "Scan for life forms. Could well be we're looking at some race unknown to us that controls this quadrant of space." "Could be," Starbuck admitted as he checked his scanner, "Apollo, we need to get closer to get a life form scan. Readings are too imprecise at this point." "All right, activate turbos, and let's close the range. But try not to alarm them into thinking we're going to attack." "Will do," Starbuck said as he hit his turbo, with Apollo following microns later. Ahead, the contours of an orange-colored spacecraft were becoming visible. Apollo shook his head in fascination, as it didn't resemble any kind of craft he was familiar with. The only craft that came to mind was a bigger, longer version of a shuttlecraft of some type. "Definitely not an attack craft, would be my guess," Apollo said, "Okay, how about the life form scan?" "Should have it now," Starbuck said as he hit the switch. And then, his jaw dropped open in disbelief. "Good Lord....." he whispered. "What?" Apollo jerked his helmet up. "Apollo...." Starbuck hesitated, "The life form readings are human!" Apollo's head darted back down to his own scanner. When he saw the reading, it was his turn for his eyes to nearly bug out. "Lords of Kobol," the black-haired captain said under his breath, "If there are humans aboard, then.....Starbuck do you know what that conceivably means?" "Yeah," the blonde warrior nodded, "It can't be anything connected to an old Colonial settlement. It has to be something connected with-----" he hesitated to say the next word. Apollo decided to finish for him, "Earth." He took a breath, "I'm going to break radio silence and send an emergency signal to the Galactica. We need to talk to them now." As soon as the long-range signal from Apollo reached the Galactica's bridge, Colonel Tigh wasted no time contacting Adama to tell the Commander what had happened. By the time Adama arrived on the bridge, he could sense a buzz of excitement. "Captain Apollo is sending back long-range telemetry signals to us of this craft," the executive officer said, "I don't think any of us can keep our eyes off it." Adama stared at the monitor, where he could see the clear image of the orange colored spacecraft. The design was totally unfamiliar to him, which he knew had to be a hopeful sign to begin with. "Has our patrol tried contacting the people aboard?" "They got no response," Tigh said, "Indication is that perhaps those on-board might be in some kind of suspended animation or hibernation mode." "Hibernation?" Adama raised an eyebrow, "That's interesting. The Colonies stopped using that technique for long-range space travel eons ago." He glanced at the screen again, "Which from the standpoint of those of us who hope to find a human civilization equal to our own would not be a hopeful sign. Still, it's way too early to form any judgments. Not until we can make some kind of actual contact with them." "But if they're in a hibernation mode, how can we make contact with them?" Tigh pointed out. The commander nodded, "That's a good point. We'd have no choice but to just have our patrol follow them to wherever the craft's pre-programmed to go, but....since we have no idea where that might be, and how far away it is, our patrol could reach the point where they'd lose their ability to return safely to the Galactica and would have to abandon them." "Then I think we have no choice," the executive officer said, "We should tell Blue Squadron to take the vessel in tow and bring her back to the Fleet." "Attach tow lines?" there was an edge of skepticism in Adama's tone, "That might run the risk of waking them up and interpreting that a hostile act has been made on them. If this does represent contact with the Thirteenth Tribe, that's the last thing I'd want to do." "Then the only other option would be to get a new patrol out to relieve Apollo and Starbuck and keep tracking them. Are you willing to chance that?" Adama sighed and glanced back at the telemetry data on the monitor, taking in the view of the unfamiliar craft. "No," he shook his head, "I can't chance that. Tell Apollo to go ahead and tow her in. Hopefully we'll be able to convince those passengers, whoever they are, that we mean them no harm." "Start securing the tow lines, Starbuck," Apollo radioed, "The Galactica just gave us the green light to haul her in." "Activating tow line," Starbuck said, "We'll have to slow down our speed to keep her secure. It'll take, what, seven or eight centars to bring her back?" "Give or take a centar," Apollo said as he trained his eyes on the craft for perhaps the thousandth time, trying to find one sign in her contours that indicated a tie-in to Colonial civilization. Finally, he shook his head in frustration as he realized that only a more detailed examination would probably yield a tie-in. If there was one. As the captain activated his tow line and saw it secure itself to the starboard side of the craft, he suddenly felt a new sensation go through his body. Something that he couldn't put his finger on, but it almost seemed like a warning bell to him. That maybe there was a good reason for not going ahead with this. He then shook the sensation off as he and Starbuck maneuvered their vipers into position and began the process of towing the mysterious spacecraft back toward the distant goal of the Galactica's landing bay. As the centars went by, Adama decided to temporarily retreat to his quarters and go over all of the ancient texts in his collection that pertained to the Thirteenth Tribe. The Book of the Word and the Testament of Arkada represented the only definitive accounts he could trust, while anything else fell completely in the realm of speculation. At a time such as this, when the possibility of first contact no longer seemed so distant and remote as it always had since the journey's beginning, the last thing he could let his mind do was engage in speculation. He needed to wait for more definitive information to emerge, and then let things fall as they were. He was still immersed in his texts when the video-com chime sounded. He turned it on and saw that Tigh was looking very concerned. "Something the matter, Colonel?" "A small problem," the executive officer said, "It seems that news of this discovery by Captain Apollo's patrol has spread too fast throughout the Fleet." "What do you mean?" Adama came up in his chair. "The IFB's found out," Tigh said, "Zara's spent the last half-centar talking about nothing else." The commander shook his head in disgust, "Apollo's patrol isn't even back yet and they've found out already?" "I imagine someone on the Bridge who's gone off-duty in the last few centars talked, or at least talked to someone who then passed on the news. Adama, I think you'd better defuse this quickly before it gets out of hand." "Yes, tie me in to the Fleet unicom signal and I'll do that right away. How long before the patrol returns?" "One centar," "Get quarantine facilities ready in Alpha Landing bay." "Already done. You're on unicom now." Adama then took a breath and brought his voice to its most disciplined and diplomatic tone. "People of the Fleet, this is Commander Adama. Rumors are spreading faster than fact about a manned vehicle soon to be brought aboard the Galactica. I must ask you all to be patient and cautious in your optimism. The incoming vessel will have to be placed in strict quarantine, carefully, before we can allow anyone near it. We can not run any risk that might jeopardize our lives, or the lives of whoever is aboard this spaceship." he then paused, "As to where this craft originates from, I ask that you refrain from any speculation or false optimism at this time. Too much remains that is unknown to us at present, and only the most thorough of examinations, which may take some time to fully implement, can begin to answer those questions. I can only assure you that all information will be made available in as timely a fashion as can be done. For now, I ask that you return to your normal duties, and to act with prudence and caution as far as whatever future events may hold in store for us. Thank you." He shut off the switch and let out a sigh of relief, hoping that he'd neutralized one potential problem for now. By the time Adama returned to the bridge, Apollo and Starbuck were within visual range of the Fleet, and so was the mysterious spacecraft. Now, each person on the bridge was staring at the main viewing screen, unable to take their eyes off the vessel. "We're able to make our own telemetry scans," Omega said, "Minimal lifesign readings. No response to communications." "Doctor?" Adama turned to Dr. Salik, who had arrived on the bridge a few centons earlier. "This is only a snap judgment, but I would concur that indicates hibernation or suspended animation." The Chief Medical Officer said, "If they were ill or incapacitated to some degree, they surely would have found some way of indicating that, or their lifesigns might have terminated by now. Those low metabolic rates clearly indicate bodily functions slowed down to almost the same levels one is subjected to in cryo-freeze treatments." "Then how swiftly should we proceed in awaking them, if indeed they are in hibernation?" Salik looked up, "I would certainly not recommend proceeding 'swiftly', Commander. We can't guarantee that these people, however human they might be according to these scans, are fully compatible with our own life-support systems. Until I can have my med-tech team go over every component in that spacecraft down to the last detail, I recommend going at a pace slower than a Canceran mollusk." "Noted," Adama then turned to the Chief Electronics Scientist, who had arrived at the same time as Salik, and who was staring at the readings in slack-jawed fascination. "Dr. Wilker, your analysis?" "Amazing," the Chief Scientist murmured, seemingly oblivious to the Commander. He said nothing else, and Adama felt the need to impatiently tape him on the shoulder. "Dr. Wilker, your analysis, please?" "Oh!" he straightened himself out, "Our scans of the craft's interior are more thorough then what the vipers have been able to do. Clearly safe for our teams to enter. No bombs or booby traps as far as we can determine. The craft itself contains two main reactors that power her engines, but the cells indicate she's totally incapable of faster-than-light travel, and in all likelihood not even lightspeed." "Which means if they put themselves in hibernation, they expected a long journey to wherever they wanted to go, and couldn't store necessary provisions for such a sustained voyage," Adama said. "How long could they conceivably keep themselves alive in that condition?" "Who's to say?" Salik shrugged, "Sectars, yahrens, maybe hundreds of yahrens for all we know." "Commander," Omega reported, "Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck have detached tow lines and are landing in Beta bay. Our tractor beam has hold of the craft and is guiding her into Alpha bay." "Thank you. Have them report to Alpha bay immediately," Adama turned to the two scientists, "Well, gentlemen, let's take our first close-up look at this thing." When the three of them arrived in the landing bay, Apollo and Starbuck were already waiting for them. Cassiopeia and a team of several med-techs, as well as two additional scientists from Wilker's staff also stood nearby. "There it is," Wilker pointed. Adama stopped to take in the view of the orange spacecraft. Nothing about it struck any chord of recognition with him in terms of design, which automatically told him that whatever society these people came from had clearly not followed a completely parallel state of development to Colonial civilization. From a comparative technological level, the craft's size and slow speed suggested something in the vicinity of one thousand to fifteen hundred yahrens behind the level of Colonial technology since it seemed evident that this kind of vessel served the same function as one of the Galactica's shuttles might. "We've been standing by, waiting for your orders, Commander," Cassiopeia said, "How do you want us to proceed?" "No sign of movement since she landed?" "None," Dr. Fairfax, Wilker's chief assistant shook his head. "Commander, if we're going to find out anything, we need to get inside their now." "Wait a centon," Apollo protested, "That thing couldn't possibly accommodate a team this large. If we send too many people in their at once..." "Then we send in fewer people, Captain!" Fairfax retorted, "The sooner we stop standing around here, the better I'll feel." Adama glanced at the scientist with slight distaste, wondering how it could be that Fairfax was the nephew and namesake of a great battlestar commander. "Very well," Adama said, "We'll proceed. But I only want Captain Apollo, Lieutenant Starbuck, Med-tech Cassiopeia and Drs. Salik and Wilker to accompany me for this first look." "Commander, I-" Fairfax started to protest, but a cold glance from the Commander cut him off and he slunk back to where the others were standing. "I think we're forgetting something," Salik said, "Do we need to force open their hatch to get inside? Because if we have to blow it completely, I'm absolutely opposed to that." "We'll find out," Adama said as he led the group of five toward the craft and placed his hand on what was clearly a rear compartment door. He found a hatch cover and with great trepidation turned what looked like a handle to the right. A groaning sound emitted as the door suddenly slid open to the right. Feeling the tension rise, Adama then led the group inside. They immediately noticed a sterile smell inside the rear compartment, and also that it was stuffy and hot. "The ventilation systems were powered done to almost nothing," Wilker noted, "To save energy for a long-range trip." Adama then entered the next compartment and stopped in his tracks when he saw before him, five pod-like chambers, each containing the almost waxen forms of human beings. Each of them wore the same kind of odd, silver-metal looking coverall. What surprised him though was that only one was an adult male. The other was an adult female, and on the other side he could recognize three children, one in her young teens, the other two no older than five or six yahrens old. "A whole family of them," Cassiopeia said in amazement. "This, I didn't expect," Adama said as he moved toward the head of the compartment, glancing down at the brown-haired man in the lead pod chamber. "This couldn't have been some kind of formal expedition or voyage if it had passengers like this." Starbuck was perhaps the most awed of the group, "They don't even look alive." Salik smiled, "Well, they are, Lieutenant. Just like being put in cryo-freeze makes one look dead even as the body continues to function." the Chief Medical Officer stopped to look at some of the instrument panels lining the terminals. "I can't quite make out the details on these computers though. It could well be that these people have a language that isn't quite on the same wavelength as ours." "He's right," Wilker said as he looked up from his study of one of the computer terminals, "There's nothing I'd dare touch myself. It could be that these people are the ones who'd have to teach us how to operate these things properly. The sooner we can get one of them out of hibernation, the better. Preferably the lead one there." he motioned his thumb toward the lead pod that Adama stood next to. Adama frowned, "You're suggesting we start that procedure, now?" "Well it makes sense, doesn't it?" Starbuck spoke up, "We aren't going to get anywhere figuring out where they come from, if we can't read their computers, so why not wake them up?" Salik sighed, "Starbuck, Wilker, I think you should stop thinking so impulsively. If we bring these people out of hibernation improperly, that could terminate their lives." "Why?" the lieutenant asked. "Because as you said, we don't know how to read their computers, so it's quite obvious that we also don't know what the proper procedure is for bringing them out of hibernation, especially since we don't know if their life systems are completely compatible with our atmosphere." "So what does this mean, then?" Starbuck began to feel the exuberance he'd felt all through the journey back to the Galactica being replaced with exasperation, "We finally come into contact with people who might be from Earth, and we have to leave them in these tubes?" "No," Wilker shook his head, "No, it doesn't have to mean that at all. Between myself and Dr. Salik, and with the help of our support teams, we should be able to figure these systems out. I can pick one chamber and run tests on it." "Run tests on it?" Apollo spoke up for the first time, feeling that uneasy sensation return to him again, "Are you talking about using one of these people as a testing drone to figure out how their technology functions?" Wilker bristled slightly, "That's a crude way of putting it, Captain, but----" "And what if one of them should short out during your so-called 'tests'?" Apollo didn't let up, "You'd just move on to the next child? I'm assuming of course the children are the ones you'd want to do the tests on, since you said it was important to get answers from their leader up front!" The Chief Scientist found himself on the verge of losing his temper, but then swallowed and turned his back to Apollo, directing himself to Adama, "Commander," he said, "I believe you've served your purpose for now. The rest is in our hands. It's not a military matter anymore." "That's true," Adama said, taken aback somewhat by Wilker's cavalier attitude toward the situation. But from a technical standpoint, he knew the Chief Scientist was right about the need to proceed, "But I want both of you to understand this. Who these people are, where they come from, and where they were going, could well provide the key to the survival of the entire Fleet. I want no unnecessary chances taken with their lives. Have I made myself clear?" "Certainly," Wilker said, "But at the same time, we also have to consider that bringing them here at all, may have been fatal in the long-term for them." "Which would justify taking rash action to get at some answers too quickly, is that what you're saying, Doctor?" Apollo didn't bother concealing the disgust in his voice. Again, the Chief Scientist ignored him, "Commander, if you would permit Fairfax and the rest of my team to come aboard, along with the rest of the med-techs, I think we can get started." "Very well," Adama said calmly and motioned to Apollo and Starbuck, "Captain. Lieutenant." As Apollo followed his father out, he could feel the sense of discontent rising inside him. Now he could pinpoint exactly what the source of it was. He was convinced more then ever that bringing the strange vehicle aboard the battlestar had been the wrong decision to begin with. Chapter Two For more than a sectan, Athena had been dreading the day when her new temporary assignment would begin. All the people she'd spoken to had told her nothing but horror stories of how impossible it was to handle a group of young primary children not used to a new instructor. And how each of them were always grateful when the assignment ended and they could get back to their regular duties as soon as possible. The previous night, she had lain awake in her bunk, wondering how it was that a warrior with her record, trained to fly shuttles, and who had distinguished herself as a viper pilot at the Battle of Kobol, now found herself about to take charge of thirty children for the rest of the educational cycle, which still had several sectars remaining. It almost seemed like the ultimate comedown in terms of what she was capable of doing. And then, she realized painfully the reason why she'd talked herself into volunteering for the assignment. The more she removed herself from the bridge and all kinds of warrior-related activities, the more she could get her mind off Starbuck. For too long, she had been letting herself brood over the fact that he was irrevocably lost to her. Hearing Cassiopeia say on the witness stand during his murder tribunal that they had a "very close" relationship, only helped drive the reality of that home to her once and for all. As a consequence it had begun to make her feel more restless in her usual bridge duties, and that what she needed most was a new challenge in life to devote herself too. Going back to viper duty wasn't an option since it would only put her in more close proximity to Starbuck. And then, one night while she had been looking after Boxey, her nephew had offhandedly remarked how he wished his instructor was more like her. She had asked him questions for a centar about what his classes were like, and learned that Boxey didn't think his current instructor, or any of the previous ones, had done a good job connecting with the class. After that conversation, Athena found herself thinking she could easily do a better job then that, and had impulsively volunteered the next day to be a rotating instructor for Boxey's second yahren primary group, the instant a vacancy came up. Without bothering to check with others who'd had the job before to find out if it really was a good idea to volunteer for such a position. But now, as she'd collected herself that morning to begin her job, her dread had given way to resignation, and she decided that the least she could do was throw herself into it. Perhaps when all was said and done, she might come to enjoy the job and even sign up for another semester term. To strike a note of authority with the children, she decided to wear her bridge uniform rather than the civilian clothes most instructors wore. Once class began, she found it seemed to have the right effect on the children. All of them were in a completely deferential mood and not offering the slightest signs of rambunctiousness. Is it the uniform, or the fact that I'm Adama's daughter? she wondered idly. She made a mental note to try at least one session without the uniform at some point in order to put that theory to the test. After guiding them through a review of their scientific exercises for the day, she decided to break whatever feelings of boredom some of them might have by focusing on the one story that any of them with access to a video-com and the IFB these last two days, knew all about. "Let's see how well some of you are when it comes to keeping up with current events knowledge." She said as she made her way forward, into the throng of children seated at their desks. "You're all aware that something special has happened, right?" "Yes!" her nephew suddenly spoke up, "We've found people from Earth!" Athena gently pointed at Boxey, feeling glad that the little boy had provided her with an opportunity to demonstrate to the rest of the class that not even familial ties could affect her ability to show authority to them. "Boxey, remember to use your questioning indicator when you desire to address the class." "Sorry, Athena," Boxey said, feeling properly chastised as he settled back in his seat. "You're excused," she allowed herself only the faintest smile, as she returned to her position at the head of the classroom. "But Boxey is right to this degree. If you're all familiar with your assigned readings form the Book of the Word and the Testament of Arkada, then you realize that what might happen today is liable to affect each of us, for the rest of our lives. That's why we're all nervous about it, I'm sure." A chime then sounded from the desk in front of Boxey's, rung by a blonde girl with braids. Athena recognized her as the daughter of Colonial Security Guard, Corporal Lomas. "Yes, Loma?" "If there are people aboard, why aren't they coming out?" "We can't allow it now, because their craft has to be decontaminated," Athena said and decided to come up with an impromptu quiz for them. Using current events as a launching point for educational discussion was one teaching tool they'd never seen before, and Athena could remember how effective it had always been during her days of schooling. "Does anyone know what that means?" Boxey immediately rang his question chime. For an instant, Athena hoped that wasn't going to be the norm because if Boxey was always first to chime in, then the other students might think she was giving her nephew opportunities to look better than them. "Yes, Boxey?" "It means they have to make sure there are no sick bugs aboard the ship that can harm the rest of us." "Exactly," Athena nodded, grateful that Boxey didn't mention that he knew that because Apollo had gone through a full decon procedure himself the other day after his one visit aboard the craft. "We're talking about things that are too small for us to see, but can have bad effects on us, especially when we have people thrown together in an unfamiliar environment for the first time. I'm sure some of us can remember that when we started our journey nearly a yahren ago, there was trouble making adjustments." Another chime, this from a brown haired girl at the back of the room. "Yes. Lana?" "When me and my parents came aboard the Galactica, we got sick from the water." "Your family's from Aquarius, right?" Athena asked, feeling glad that Boxey had told her about most of the backgrounds of the students. "Yes." "You come from one of the outer colonies. Because the Galactica is mostly comprised of Capricans, Gemons and Cancerans, that meant there was some incompatibility at first, but in time that passed. Everyone learned how to do what, class?" "Adjust!" they all said in unison. "Excellent," she said with pride, "And with that in mind, you can look at the central monitor and read the lesson for today." she activated a switch and stepped aside so they could see it. "The human life form can adapt to many varied environments and foods!" they again read in unison. "Remember, it just takes time for adjustment to happen. That's all that's happening now, before we can let these visitors out." Boxey, feeling restless to say what was on his mind, rang his chime again. "Yes, Boxey?" "I heard my father say that it could be possible for those people to kill us before we knew what hit us, if they were carrying the wrong kind of bugs." Athena was taken aback slightly by her nephew's remarks. "Your father said that to you?" "Not exactly," Boxey said, "He was having some argument with Starbuck about it." "I see," Athena sucked in her breath, trying not to let herself look any more rattled then she already felt. "Class, we're going to take a recess for the next fifteen centons. You're free to go to a refreshment station but make sure what you get is fully consumed before class resumes." An approving noise went up from the students as they began to disperse. Athena came up to Boxey and immediately took him by the hand. "Come on," she said, "Let's find your father." Several centons later, they caught up with Apollo, who was heading toward the Officers Club. "Apollo!" his sister called out. Apollo turned around and smiled when he saw them, especially Boxey. He hadn't been able to spend as much time as he felt he should have with his son in the last few sectans, and it was beginning to weigh heavily on his conscience. "Boxey, how are you doing?" he patted his son's shoulder and then grinned at his sister, "So is he making your first day of teaching difficult?" "Only because of something you said," Athena folded her arms, "Are you trying to scare every child aboard the Galactica out of their wits?" "What?" Apollo frowned. "I'm trying to tell them that what's happened with this ship being found could be the most wonderful thing that ever happened to us, and according to Boxey, you were telling Starbuck that this could actually kill us all." Apollo stiffened slightly and then glanced at his son, wondering if he should rebuke him for eavesdropping again. He decided not to and directed himself to Athena, "What I said was that we and the people in that ship share the same risk. Either of us could be dangerous to each other." "But we've decontaminated that ship! You've been inside it, and so has Father, and you went through decon with no ill after-effects. If you were afraid of a replay of what happened to Boomer and Jolly when they contracted that virus, you'd both still be quarantined!" "We're safe, yes," Apollo said, "But as far as coming into contact with these people, there's still a danger. Our air could be filled with things fatal to them, and once they're released from hibernation, they could transmit bugs to us that could be fatal to us. All we've proved is that the sealed environment of their ship isn't harmful to us." "I see," Athena said, "So in other words, if they're from Earth, they could be from a totally harmful environment to us. What do you expect me to do with a group of students who've been taught to have hope about adjusting normally to a new life on a new planet, if we're this close to Earth?" He put a hand on his sister's shoulder, "You tell them the truth, Athena," he said, "That hopefully we've taken a giant step forward." "Which in your opinion could just as easily be a step off a cliff." Apollo finally realized why Athena was so rattled by what had happened. Athena had once been the sunny optimist of the family in the days before the Holocaust, matching the disposition their mother was known for. That had been shattered beyond repair on the day she'd lost Zac and then her mother, and it had made Athena far more cynical and skeptical about life. Now, at a time when she'd been trying to recapture some of that optimism for the sake of the children she was teaching, along came another jolt to reopen her cynical nature. "Athena," he said gently, "How about I come by to your class and talk to them after we get some more information? I don't want to rattle them, or you for that matter." "Sure," she sighed, "You just telecom me when you're ready." "I will," he then glanced down at Boxey, "As for you, young man, you're going to get it good for eavesdropping again." But Boxey had heard this kind of reproach before, and like the other times it always left him grinning innocently at his father, and with it, all thoughts of stern discipline were gone from Apollo's mind by the time he turned away. Inside the spacecraft, Salik and Wilker had spent the better part of a centar working alone on their analysis of the components. The support teams had spent most of the last two days in total frustration over their inability to come up with viable answers on how the ship functioned. Now, the two senior scientists had decided to tackle things alone for now. "We've been at this for two days, and we're still no further along then when we started," Salik said, "Not a single thing in this vessel correlates to anything we're used to." "We have to find a connection somewhere," Wilker found himself growing more annoyed with Salik's comments. "They're human. The ship is powered by energy sources similar to our own sub-light craft from a millennia or so ago. We just have to keep at it." He paused, "And if that means taking some chances, Doctor, I for one am more than prepared to do that." "Even if it means risking their lives?" "For sagan's sake, how are we going to make things better if we stay too cautious?" the Chief Scientists raised his voice slightly. "We could end up harming ourselves even more taking that approach then if we were slightly too rash by your reasoning." "Granted," the Chief Medical Officer conceded, "But before you even think about using one of those pods for tests, I suggest you try a crack at the navigational system again, and see if you can get some clues as to where this vessel came from. That should be more up your line of work anyway, shouldn't it?" Wilker threw him a cold stare and then went over to the front of the ship. When Apollo arrived in the Officers Club, he found the effects of his conversation with Athena still leaving a bad taste in his mouth. And with it, he found all of the nagging doubts he'd been having for the last two days bubbling to the surface. "Apollo?" Sheba inquired as he sat down at the table where Boomer and Starbuck were also seated, "You look like you just lost your first love." She'd said it brightly, as a way of breaking tension, but both Boomer and Starbuck found themselves wincing at her choice of words. Apollo glanced at her oddly for an instant, as though he was also surprised by her using a phrase none of his other friends would have used in a micron. Then, he reminded himself that Sheba was a newcomer not too familiar with just who Apollo's first love had been, and how he'd lost her. He wasn't about to hold her remark against her. If anything, he felt determined to cut Sheba more slack then he might ordinarily do for anyone else. "It's nothing," he waved a hand, "I checked back on their progress, and they're not getting anywhere." "You're just going to have to give them time," Boomer said as he took a sip from his tankard, "Until then, we just sit back and wait for results." "Yeah," Apollo said, "Only they may not have much time. That's the problem!" "What are you talking about?" Boomer set his tankard down, "You're making it sound like there's some choice to be made here." "There is," the captain's voice suddenly grew more determined, "And I think we've been making the wrong choice all along." "Huh?" Sheba frowned, "Apollo, you found a ship drifting in space with living beings inside, and we're doing all we can for them. What other choice is there?" "Maybe leaving them alone," he settled back in his chair. "What?" Boomer's face twisted in disbelief, "Is that what we're supposed to do to the first humans we've come across from another civilization, clearly with no connections to our own?" "Are you sure of that?" Sheba asked. "You have come across other humans before since leaving the Colonies, haven't you?" "Yes, but not since long before we crossed paths with you and the Pegasus, Sheba," Boomer said, "And all of them we could tie to planetary systems that were still on old Colonial star charts. Those humans were pioneers or drifters from our own planets. Their language, their culture and customs were all familiar to us on one level or another. Then after Gomorrah, we run into the first regions of uncharted space and we find nothing for well over four sectars as far as humans go, and then bang! We find this spacecraft that has a totally unfamiliar technological design. The one thing we can be sure of is that these people are the first non-Colonial humans we've come across. The only remaining question is, are they part of the Thirteenth Tribe? And when I say the Thirteenth Tribe, I don't mean stragglers who dropped off the journey at some point, I mean those who are part of where the Tribe ultimately ended up. That's one question we have to find the answer to." "Boomer's right," Starbuck chimed in, "The whole point of this journey from the beginning isn't finding some place nice to settle where there are other humans, it's finding the place where the Thirteenth Tribe ended up. If we wanted to stop on a planet that was habitable, I could have settled for staying Constable back on Serenity, or having us all settle down on Attilla," he then took a puff on his fumarello, "Which I have to admit did have some interesting distractions to offer, as you no doubt recall, Boomer." "Yeah, I remember," Boomer said as his mind recalled the image of a skimpily attired voluptuous woman named Miri. "I'll try not to remind Cassiopeia of that." Starbuck grinned and took another puff. "It isn't the need to find just the Thirteenth Tribe that explains why we never stopped," Apollo looked as though he wasn't going to allow himself to loosen up. "We never stopped because we're not strong enough to do that. We've been a hunted people, for sagan's sake!" he abruptly slammed his fist on the table to emphasize his point. Starbuck uneasily took his fumarello out and glanced uneasily at his friend, "Well yeah, but that hasn't been true for a few sectars now, Apollo. I mean, it's been awhile since we last saw any Cylons to worry about. So if we're not worrying about Cylons anymore, then my point about waiting only for the Thirteenth Tribe stays valid." He then paused, "At least try to lighten up, will you?" "Oh come on!" Apollo refused to let up, "Why is it you have to look at things all the time in absolutes? Either we win or lose! Either we find Earth or we don't! A girl says yes or no! The value of a civilization is based on what lies between these extremes." Sheba decided the time for being lighthearted had past, "I think that's pure felgercarb, Apollo," she cut in, "We fought our war against the Cylons because we believed in the absolute goodness of the cause. And it seems to me that our destruction came about only when our leaders stopped looking at things that way." "That's not the point!" Apollo said, "I'm talking about something else completely!" "Are you?" Sheba remained unconvinced, "If you are, I haven't noticed. And I don't see why you're getting in such a fit about what happens to these people. The experts are working on this, and they're trying to make sure no harm comes to them. And you then come up with some felgercarb about how we should have left them alone?" "There's an ethical component to this, that we haven't considered." "Where?" "We've interfered with whatever it is they were setting out to do when they put themselves in hibernation. Did we have the right to disrupt their voyage and put their lives at risk simply to fulfill our own selfish goals?" "Selfish?" Starbuck crushed his fumarello in the ashtray. "Apollo, what choice did we have? I was out there with you. We either had to take that ship in tow or else we would have lost our ability to track her because we were damn near out of fuel! And are you going to tell me with a straight face that would have been the sound decision to make?" "Maybe it would have." "I think you're dead wrong," Sheba said coldly, "And I think it's wrong for you to act as though what's been done constitutes some kind of heinous crime." "You tell him!" a slurry voice from behind them suddenly spoke up. The four warriors turned around and saw a short man with a moustache, wearing the black uniform of Council Security, sitting on a barstool holding a near-empty glass in his hand. "Oh great," Starbuck said under his breath, "Now we have to put up with a blackshirt who's totally crocked." "You ask me, you and Shtarbuck are right," Council Security Guard Reese slid off the barstool and stumbled toward their table, still holding his empty glass. "You know what we oughta do? Smash open those boxes and interro-" he suddenly hiccuped, "Interrogate the whole-" he slurred out the word as if it had three syllables, "lot of them." "Hey Reese," Starbuck said gently, "Why don't you go quietly and take a nice long turbowash, because believe me, I don't need a crocked blackshirt for an ally." "Oh you don't, do ya?" Reese suddenly bristled with anger, "Ish not goooood enough for you when one of us decides to agree with ya? Only want help from your hotshot," he hiccuped again, "pilots?" he formed the word contemptuously, "Or if I was one of those from Colon-" another hiccup, "Colonial Security, you'd listen to me?" "You say one more word, Reese, and I'm going to stick that glass of yours down your throat," Starbuck said coldly. "Now get out of here." Slowly, Reese skulked away, and then turned back, "Think I will. There's never any fresh air when I'm around you arrogant clods." Apollo suddenly bolted from his chair as if he was going to follow the Council guard out and fight him. Boomer immediately grabbed his arm. "Hey," the dark-skinned warrior said, "We came here to let off steam, not fight." "He's right," Starbuck smiled, "Besides, when it comes to fighting, that's my job. You're supposed to be my conscience, remember?" "Right now, your conscience wishes he were making a bigger impact on you," Apollo refused to sit down, "Because I think its hard to offer one life in sacrifice even for thousands." "Is it?" Sheba said with disgust, "If that's true Apollo, then the oath we've all taken as warriors to put down our lives as individuals for the people of our nation suddenly becomes meaningless." "I'm not talking about us as Colonial Warriors sacrificing our lives to save our own people!" Apollo said, not wanting to argue with Sheba, but feeling he had no choice. "We took that oath out of our own free will. We had a choice in the matter. What choice did we give these people? That's the difference I'm talking about. We didn't give them a choice as to whether or not their lives should be put at risk for our own sake." The silence from the three warriors indicated that he'd finally been able to connect with them. "Look," Apollo said quietly as he sat down, "I'm not a fool. I'm not saying we should have ignored that ship completely when we encountered it. I'm just saying we didn't take enough time to consider every possible alternative. If we had we could have found one that served both our interests. Theirs and ours." "Well even if that's true, Apollo, it's too late to look back on that, isn't it?" Boomer pointed out. "We just have to deal with things as they are now." "I wonder," Apollo then abruptly headed for the door, leaving his friends feeling completely uneasy. Sergeant Castor of Colonial Security, the unit responsible for all matters of military security had begun his assignment of guarding the entryway to Alpha bay. For the last two days, it had been ordinary and routine. This day though, he didn't have long to see that it would not be routine on this occasion when three people, two men and one woman in white Councillor's robes descended from the turbo lift and approached the guard. "Excuse me, but this area is off-limits." The lead man, who had carefully groomed silver hair, seemed indignant. "Young man, do you realize who you're talking to? I'm Sire Geller, and this is Sire Domra," he indicated the other man, whose hair was also silvery-white, "and Siress Tinia," he then motioned to the woman who was in the early stages of middle-age, and whose severe expression marred what might have otherwise been an attractive face. Castor seemed unimpressed, "I recognize your names," he said, "But the fact that you're members of the Council of Twelve carries no weight in a matter of military security." "I don't think you understand, Sergeant," Domra stepped forward and said coldly. "We insist on the right to inspect this vessel for ourselves and see what progress there's been on the status of these humans, and how soon it will be before they can talk!" "Well, I'm not the one who can help you on that, my job is to just guard this area and keep it quarantined for the support teams to do their work," Castor held his ground. "You'd need to get written authorization from Commander Adama for me to let you by, so I suggest you take up the matter with him." "We shall see about this!" Geller's nostrils flared, while Tinia's severe expression grew more visibly annoyed. "The next time we meet, Sergeant, you won't find yourself acting so disrespectful of civilian authority!" The three Council members then turned and went back to the turbo lift that would take them one deck up. Just as they boarded, the adjacent compartment door opened and Apollo emerged. "What was that all about?" the captain asked. Castor shook his head in disgust, "We've got some restless Council members who are anxious to see those Earthians for themselves." Apollo looked at him with alarm, "Did you tell them this area's quarantined?" "Yeah, but judging by the looks on their faces, I don't think they plan on taking no for an answer much longer." "Great, that's all we need. Castor, get some more guards stationed here to beef up security. I'll even get some off-duty pilots detached to help out too." "Thanks," the security guard grunted, "We'll probably need it." "I've exhausted everything I can out of the navigational system," Wilker's patience with Salik had now run out, "Now unless you think I should be wasting my time sitting on my astrum, I am going to check that support pod, now." Salik let out a dismal groan but then shook his head in the affirmative. "All right, but I'm going to watch every move you make, Wilker." "Naturally," the Chief Scientist didn't hide the sarcasm as he knelt down in front of the pod where the brown-haired man lay. He opened what seemed like a panel on a small box at the base of the chamber and saw what looked like a maze of wires and circuits. "Okay," he pulled out a micro scanner, "I can try to hook up this scanner to one of these units and get a direct reading on what makes it run." Slowly, with delicate precision, he attached the wires running out of the scanner to the box, and then activated the power to the scanner. "Finally!" he smiled for the first time, "I'm getting some concrete readings that are really helpful! Atmosphere indications of what's inside these chambers. Now I can recalibrate these findings." After a centon, a sudden shower of sparks emitted from the control box. Wilker hastily pulled the scanner out and got to his feet, while Salik watched the monitors above the pod in alarm. "What happened?" the Chief Medical Officer blurted. "I must have shorted out a line," Wilker shook his head in amazement. "How are the instruments doing?" Salik felt his heart pounding, "There's been a large drop in the readings. I think you must have hit the central nerve of the life support system." "Well, at least we're getting closer." Salik glared at him, "Closer? You could have shorted out the entire ship. Wilker, we can't go on like this. We have no idea how these systems operate and it seems like the slightest move we make will likely end up terminating them." "What are you suggesting then?" the Chief Scientist angrily shot back. "What happened?" They turned around and saw a concerned Apollo entering the compartment. "Captain," Wilker said with exasperation, "We have little enough room as it is in here. Please do not interfere!" "What's going on?" Apollo didn't budge. "Well, about a centar ago we finally figured out that the gas used in the system is stored in liquid form and regenerated and recycled in some way throughout these circuits." "Dr. Salik?" Apollo looked at the Chief Medical Officer. "Are you that optimistic?" Salik hesitated slightly before answering, "Theoretically I would agree with Dr. Wilker on that. But, there is the fact that we're dealing with a potential power drop to the systems." "How?" the warrior demanded. "When we probe the systems, short-circuits occasionally happen that result in power drops." he glared at Wilker, "We just attempted it on this lead support chamber." "You what?" Apollo's face twisted in horror. "With all due respect, Salik, I can solve this technological problem if you'd just give me the time to do it!" Wilker jumped in angrily. "And how much time do we have?" "Who knows?" Salik shrugged, "How far is it to Earth? How far have they come from? How far did they intend to go before they were intercepted? Those are answers we couldn't begin to figure out at this rate." "That settles it then," Apollo said forcefully, "I want you to discontinue your work at once." "Captain, you don't have the authority to-" Wilker started. "I'm not asking you to do it, I'm ordering you to do it!" Apollo angrily pointed at Wilker. "I want you to leave this ship now, Wilker!" Wilker abruptly slammed his instrument bag on the ground, "And what if I refuse, Captain? I don't recognize your authority on this matter, and unless I get it direct from the Commander, I am not going to leave!" "I'll take you direct to the Commander right now, and that will settle this matter," Apollo held his ground, "But like it or not, you're not staying aboard." "Oh great, I wouldn't miss this for anything, Captain. But when we see the Commander, I can guarantee that you're the one who's going to be in a lot of trouble, not me." "We'll see about that," Apollo motioned him to come, " Dr. Salik, you stay here and monitor the instruments. Notify me if there's any change." When they arrived in Adama's quarters, both Apollo and Wilker allowed their mutual anger toward each other to explode in full force as they explained their positions to the Commander. Through it all, Adama maintained a diplomatic posture, letting each of them have their say. When they were both finished, he rose from his chair and took a position between them. "Apollo," he said to his son, "I can't say I approve of your impulsive actions. Even if I concede your argument, you went outside the chain of command and had no authority to order Dr. Wilker out without consulting me first." "I didn't think I had any choice!" Apollo argued, "The way things were going, there wasn't time for a vote." "Ridiculous!" Wilker shot back, "All I needed was some more time. Even that quick scan I got on the pod chamber yielded some concrete results. If I can get a sustained reading without any more short-circuits, I think I can find all the answers I need." "What did you find out?" Adama asked. "The atmosphere they breathe is about one-fifth that of Caprica and most of the Colonies. Probably one-sixth for that of the outer colonies." "One-fifth," Adama digested that information, "That doesn't sound promising. That would indicate they come from a planet that would be generally incompatible with our own physiological structure. At the very least one we couldn't sustain ourselves on without proper equipment to compensate." He paused, "What else did you learn?" "I went over the navigational system a hundred times to try and get some clues as to where they came from, what direction they were going. It's still an unreadable database for the most part, but I did keep seeing a number of instrument readings that indicate a planet named Terra." "What?" Adama's head jerked up, "Did you say Terra?" "Yes," Wilker said, "Is that significant?" "It might be," Adama felt his heart race, "Terra is the Gemonese term for Earth. That may be the link we've been looking for!" "Whether it is or isn't, is no longer the issue!" Apollo jumped back in. "What?" Adama didn't know if he'd heard right, "What is the issue then?" "The fact that we've illegally seized an alien ship on a course between two unknown points?" "'Illegally' seized?" the Commander was incredulous, "Explain yourself." "Well what else do you call it when you take a ship out of its flight and tamper with its systems until its resources begin to dwindle?" Despite his frustration with Apollo's tone, Adama knew he had to address that last matter with Wilker first. "Well, Doctor? Are they dwindling?" "There has been a slight power loss," Wilker conceded, "That's to be expected. We just don't know----," "What we're doing!" Apollo angrily finished the sentence. It was too much for Adama, "Captain, I'm going to order you to show some civility, or risk being placed on report. Dr. Wilker is only trying to help us." His father's words had an impact, and he relaxed slightly, his voice calmer. "Dr. Wilker, if I have made any insinuations as to your motives, I apologize. But we're at a stage where good intentions don't count for anything any longer. We can't put those five people at risk any longer." "What are you suggesting then?" Adama demanded. Apollo looked him in the eye, "We let them go." The Commander's eyes narrowed and he looked as if he'd been hit in the head, "What?" "Yes," his son nodded, "We should let them go and put them back on their original course." "Apollo, I'm beginning to wonder if you need a session of cathartic treatment!" for the first time, Adama wondered if his son had all of his faculties together, "How can you possibly suggest we let them go without having made any attempt to communicate with them, or any attempt to answer the one question that keeps this Fleet moving through space?" "Because if we keep them here, they're liable to die before we can communicate with them!" Apollo said forcefully, "Father, you're drawing the wrong conclusion. I think we can increase our chances of communication and finding the answers we want if were to let them go, and monitor them to where they were heading." Adama slowly nodded, but he remained unconvinced, "All right. At least there's a method to what seems like sheer madness, but I don't think you've considered why that option is out of the question. How far away is their destination? What if they're a colonization mission heading away from Earth, and not programmed to awake for a hundred or a thousand yahrens? We could end up chasing them all the way across the stars and away from the main heading that we know Earth has to lie on. What you're asking Apollo, would put more then just their five lives at risk, it would put the lives of everyone in this Fleet at risk!" Before his son could respond, the chime sounded again. "Enter!" Adama at this point felt as if he'd welcome the distraction of another visitor. As soon as he saw who it was, he wished he'd denied entry. "Adama," Sire Geller said angrily, "On behalf of the Council, I must insist that some action be taken that will expedite matters. We have been denied access to the ship, and there is no indication that you're even close to getting these people revived." "Sire Geller," Adama said calmly, "The last thing I need are more opinions about what to do. I am trying to find a solution that will serve our interests without costing the lives of five people." "If their lives are at risk inside those chambers, then perhaps it's time you just had the seals broken and found some way to revive them immediately through the facilities aboard the Galactica," the Council member shot back, "At the very least, it would put an end to this intolerable inaction you've been demonstrating." "Inaction?" now for the first time, Adama began to understand better his son's thinking, "What right have I to pass judgment on those five people, reducing their lives to this game of expediency and self-interest?" Geller relaxed somewhat, and then when he spoke his tone was more sympathetic, "You're right, Adama," he said, "This is a troubling burden for you. Perhaps things could be alleviated if the Council took a vote on the matter. Sire Domra and Siress Tinia are both in agreement with me that perhaps this matter might be decided best by civil authority. There is after all, no military danger that arises from this craft and its passengers. It's become a matter of diplomacy." "So that makes three of you who are agreed on having the matter discussed," the commander's tone grew sour as he now realized a deeper motive behind Geller's visit. One that went far beyond the matter of the spacecraft and its passengers. "In that case, I suppose we should dispense with all other niceties and have the Council summoned immediately." "Whatever you wish, Adama," Geller bowed slightly and smiled one of the most insincere smiles the commander could ever recall seeing. "We shall meet within the centar." As soon as Geller was gone, Adama suddenly did a mocking imitation of Geller's words to indicate his disdain, "'Whatever you wish, Adama'," he said with disgust, "As if things weren't already out of hand with the two of you arguing, I now have to worry about the Council causing trouble for me." "Commander," Wilker said gently, "Is there any reason for me to remain here?" "No," he shook his head, "No, report back to Alpha Bay, Doctor. You have my permission to resume monitoring the instruments, but for now, no further tests until I consider the matter further. Is that acceptable to you?" "I suppose under the circumstances, yes," Wilker glanced haughtily at Apollo, "Captain," he said curtly and then departed. Now that he was alone with his son, Adama put his hands behind his back and shook his head, "I want you to know Apollo, that you haven't done me any favors this day with the way you've been acting." "I've been trying to do what I think is right, Father," his son said, "If I didn't feel strongly about this, I wouldn't have thought it my place to act." "But for what purpose?" Adama interjected sharply, "I've heard nothing practical in any of your solutions that indicate a positive outcome for our people. What's more, I'm astonished to hear you treat the matter of this craft having a connection with Earth as though it's an insignificant detail." "If it seems that way, I'm sorry, Father," Apollo said sincerely, "I don't belittle the significance of what Wilker says about this term Terra. I'm considering the prospects of what might happen if this civilization they come from turns out to be Earth, and then something goes awry and the first thing we have to tell our lost brothers of the Thirteenth Tribe is that we're responsible for the deaths of five of their people. How could we effectively make contact with them, if we have their blood on our hands?" His father nodded, "All right, I understand that. But Apollo, what I need are practical decisions to deal with, and if Geller's tone is any indication, the Council won't leave me with any practical choices to pursue. Too many of them are still resentful over their loss of face from the Count Iblis affair, and would just love the chance to get back at me by finding a new way of undercutting my authority. Now that Cylon pursuit isn't something we have to worry about as much as we used to, they feel a lot more secure trying to do that." He sighed with resignation, "In the meantime, double the guard down there with extra men from Colonial Security and off-duty pilots. And keep me informed if anything new happens." As Apollo left, he began to feel a sense of guilt over the burden his father had now been subjected to. But even with that, his determined belief that the spacecraft needed to be freed to resume its journey, remained solid. Chapter Three When Wilker returned to the landing bay, he was surprised to find a gathering crowd almost blocking his path back to the spacecraft. Pushing his way through the throng, all of whom were dressed in civilian clothing, he managed to reach the group of warriors who had formed a line in front of the hatchway that led inside the craft. "What's going on?" the Chief Scientist asked. Boomer, who along with Starbuck and Jolly had joined Castor and the rest of the Security team, let out a grim chuckle, "We've got ourselves some increasingly unruly people from all kinds of ships throughout the Fleet waiting to see these people for themselves." "Who let them aboard? Shouldn't the Galactica have denied them landing clearance to get here in the first place?" "I have no idea," Jolly shrugged, "But from the looks of these people, I think a lot of them are close chums of the Council members. They must have come aboard with them when they landed a few centars ago." "That figures," Wilker looked back at the mob with slight disgust. He had no desire to see a gathering mob of civilians anymore then the warriors did. From his standpoint, it could only mean trouble. "According to Adama, there's a Council meeting about to convene." "And it looks like they've got inside information as to what the outcome of that meeting is going to be," Starbuck noted. "Doc, have you been cleared to go back aboard?" "To monitor, yes." The Chief Scientist said, "If you'll let me pass." But as soon as Wilker got by the group, a grim looking Salik emerged from the hatchway, and stopped in horror when he saw the mob. "What is going on here?" he uncharacteristically raised his voice, loud enough for the nearby crowd of twenty to hear. "The makings of a mob, it would seem," Wilker's disgust increased. "We're not going to get a micron's peace if we have to worry about this group hanging over our shoulders." The Chief Medical Officer nodded, "For once, I concur with you, Wilker. Starbuck, Boomer, will you get these people out of here, now?" "We're kind of outnumbered at the moment, Doc," Starbuck said, "And right now, I don't think any of us feel comfortable making any unnecessary displays of force unless they were to start rushing the ship. Right guys?" he motioned to his fellow warriors. "Right," Castor nodded, "SOP calls for us to do nothing unless they don't stay put." "The situation in there is deteriorating more rapidly then ever!" Salik hissed, "I need these people out of here!" He then angrily turned toward the chattering crowd, "Did you hear me? Get out, now! You're not helping the situation!" "Don't worry about that, Doctor," a voice from the other side of the landing bay suddenly pierced the throng. The warriors looked over and Boomer and Starbuck both felt their skin crawl when they saw Reese leading several other blackshirted members of Council Security. Except for the reddened eyes and slightly disheveled hair, Reese appeared to have shaken off most of the effects of his drunkenness from earlier in the day. "Reese, what are you doing here?" Starbuck demanded, not bothering to conceal the disdain he felt for the Council Security guard. "We'll be taking charge of things now, Starbuck," there was a smug edge in Reese's tone. "Just as soon as the orders arrive." "What orders?" Jolly demanded sharply. "Orders from the Council," Reese folded his arms and threw the warriors a smug smirk that only increased their inner fury. "The Council will be voting any micron now to terminate the life support systems and let those poor people out of their cages." "Are you out of your mind?" Salik shouted in horror, "We have no idea what levels of resuscitation their bodies will require!" "Take it easy, Doc," Starbuck patted him on the shoulder, "No one is going to get in there if we have anything to say about this. How about you and Wilker go to the Commander and let him know what the situation is right now?" "I think we'd better," the Chief Scientist said, "I might have been for making probes, but pulling the plug on those pods isn't what I had in mind." "Then let's go," Salik motioned his fellow scientist and the two of them hurried across the tarmac toward the nearest turbo lift. "And as for you clowns," Starbuck turned his attention back to Reese and the group from Council Security, "I suggest you get it through your heads that until we hear from the Commander, we're in charge here." The smug expression didn't fade from Reese's face as he folded his arms contemptuously, "Until we receive orders from the contrary, we are in charge here." Boomer took a step toward him. When he spoke, his voice was low, but filled with disdain. "Now you listen to me, you gallmonging snitrad," he decided to use the worst epithet he could think of, "I suggest you reread the manual, if you're capable of reading at all, because this is a military ship, and that means that your authority on this ship is nil. That's why there's an institution called Colonial Security to begin with." "Damned right," Castor spoke up, trying not to explode, "So why don't you and your gang of blackshirts haul your astrums out of here, right now!" "When the lives of civilians are at stake, then that means we do have authority!" one of the other Council Security guards, a man with a neatly trimmed beard jumped in angrily, "Because that manual also says that the lives of civilians are our responsibility no matter where they happen to be." "Oh?" Boomer decided to stay disdainful, rather then show fury, "What makes you think those people on board are civilians?" "What are you talking about?" Reese couldn't believe what he was hearing, "Of course they're civilians." Starbuck smiled and decided to go along with Boomer's approach, "Well now, we really don't know that, do we? Maybe they're mercenaries, come to mow us all down." Castor looked at them, grinned slightly and decided to join in as well, "That's right. Or maybe they're Cylon spies who've come to rescue Baltar." "Exactly!" Starbuck pointed a finger in the air, "Cylon spies. Castor, you're a genius. Of course that's true of all you guys in Colonial Security. Kobol knows we can't say the same for your civilian counterparts." "Quit the felgercarb!" the smug tone was gone from Reese's face, replaced by exasperation, which was exactly the reaction the warriors wanted to see. "Two adults and three mercenary children?" "Hey, you never know what Cylon brainwashing techniques can do," Starbuck shrugged nonchalantly. "Speaking of which, what did they use on you?" "That does it!" Reese fumed as he motioned to the other members of his team, "Take your positions, now!" Suddenly, in unison, Starbuck, Boomer, Jolly and Castor all pulled out their laser pistols and trained them squarely at the group. "One more step, Reese, and you'll be flatter on your back then those people inside are," Starbuck's voice now dripped with contempt. "And that goes for all of you!" Castor barked at the rest of the crowd, which had stopped their chattering amongst themselves and were trained on what was happening. "Because until we get orders to the contrary, military discipline is going to remain in force!" So focused was the crowd on the angry warriors and their pointed pistols, that none of them noticed a light from inside the spacecraft suddenly shining off the porthole. Above the main pod, a number of lights were now blinking madly, indicating that new systems were being activated after a long period of being dormant. Slowly, Michael opened his eyes and felt the stiff sensation throughout his body he'd known would be there the instant he awoke. He managed to touch his cheeks and felt no trace of facial stubble, which indicated that either he hadn't been out long, or else the systems had functioned perfectly. He reached over and activated the switch inside that allowed the glass pod to slide open, and then he came to a sitting position, stretching his muscles to get the stiffness out. And then, he frowned as he realized he wasn't hearing something he should have heard. The throbbing sound of the engines pulsing through the compartment. The programming had been set for him to be revived when they should have been in standard orbit, but instead he had the sensation that the ship was at a complete dead stop. He stepped out of the chamber and when he took a breath, he felt a heavy weight filling his lungs, as if the air was thicker then it should have been. Making his way across the compartment, he looked out the porthole and was surprised to see a crowd of people standing near the spacecraft, wearing clothes totally unfamiliar to him. "What in the name of...." he muttered as he felt an alarm bell go off inside his head. The thought that all of the careful planning he'd done for so long had been for nothing was the only answer that could explain things at this point. And then, his eyes narrowed as he glanced at the instrument panels above each support chamber and saw readings that only made his alarm deepen. He pulled out a card from the pocket of his silver suit and inserted it in Sarah's chamber. Slowly, the blonde woman stirred but didn't open her eyes. "Sarah," he whispered and shook her arm, "Sarah, wake up." Finally she tilted her head and managed to open her eyes, "Michael?" she whispered. "Are we there?" Michael didn't respond, instead letting out a perplexed grunt as if to indicate that he wasn't sure. "Michael," Sarah came to a sitting position, her face filled with concern, "What's wrong?" Michael struggled to take a breath, feeling the thickness of the air intolerable, "I don't know," he said, "But....we're not where we should be. And....for some reason, our support systems are deteriorating." "How?" she was bewildered, "What happened to us? Did the Alliance capture us?" He glanced back toward the porthole, "I'm not sure. There are people outside who don't look like they're from the Alliance. But if they're not.....then why are we here instead of...." he stopped as he struggled to take another breath. "What are we going to do?" she touched his arm with concern. "I have to find out what's happened," he said, "Sarah, keep watching the children's life readings. If they deteriorate further, then open the chambers and start giving them oxygen." "Are you sure it's safe?" her tone indicated that she didn't want him to go. "I don't know, but we can't just stay inside here and wait," he said matter-of-factly, "I'll be back in a few minutes." And then, as he labored with each step, he made his way toward the hatchway that led outside. From the micron the Council session had convened, Adama knew it was going to lead to nothing but trouble. Geller wouldn't have bothered to have them meet if he hadn't been sure ahead of time of having enough votes to secure passage for whatever proposal he had in mind. "In spite of what Dr. Salik has reported to us," Adama leaned forward, "Am I to assume that all of you believe we must just take them out of their chambers right now?" "What choice do we have?" Domra sourly interjected. "It's been more than two full days since we brought this craft aboard, and listening to the good doctor's report, it sounds like he needs to have us wait until the next millennia before he can come up with an answer as to how these systems work." "And since the doctor says that the life readings are dwindling with each passing centon, any kind of delay is a luxury we simply can not afford," Siress Tinia added. "Luxury?" Salik spoke up from his standing position on the far side of the room, where he had given his report. "We're talking about peoples lives at stake, and you talk about that as a luxury?" "Dr. Salik, your humanitarian impulse is quite noble, but when this impacts the lives of everyone else in the Fleet, I think some greater practicality is called for," Tinia glared at him. "My brothers," Sire Anton spoke up in his soft-spoken tone, "I must confess, I'm at a loss to understand this peculiar impatience that some of us seem to feel. We are not facing a crisis situation that dictates the need to find answers this micron, or even this day. If Dr. Salik and those who are qualified in these areas feel that more time is needed to insure their survival before we find the answers we want, what is the problem with respecting his judgment on that?" "My dear Anton, if those readings were stable, I'd agree with you completely," Sire Montrose spoke up, "But we are dealing with the reality of life support readings that are steadily deteriorating, and from my standpoint that leaves us with no choice but to follow Sire Geller's recommendation that we proceed in a more timely fashion." "Exactly," Geller said, "And with that in mind, I ask for an immediate vote on my resolution to have those support chambers opened as quickly as possible." "Second!" Domra said emphatically. Adama let out a dismal groan. There was a part of him that wanted to challenge the Council's right to even take jurisdiction over such a matter, but if he did that, he only knew he'd be asking for even more trouble. "Moved and seconded," he said, "The vote will proceed." When it was over, the results were nine votes in favor, with only Adama and Anton opposed. The youngest member of the Council, Sire Antipas, who had remained quiet throughout the proceedings, had chosen to abstain. "It's done then," Geller said with a note of triumph, "The removal of the five humans will take place immediately. Prudence naturally, will be applied in the manner of their removal. I would suggest, Dr. Salik, that you begin with the leader of the group, who would perhaps be most likely to make a quicker psychological adjustment." Salik, who had been trembling with visible rage throughout the proceedings, shook his head, "In spite of your vote, Councillors, I will not be responsible for this." "You're not responsible at all!" Domra snapped, finding his patience with the Chief Medical Officer growing thin. "We are. The duly recognized authority of this government has made a decision, and you are now expected to honor that." "You ask me to carry out an order that runs contrary to every medical and moral ethic I have based my entire career on," Salik purposefully let his voice drip with contempt. "I can not do so." Geller glared at him, "Do you realize what you're saying?" "Yes," Salik drew himself up, "That you now have a problem with finding another doctor to carry out this order of yours." And then, with pride and satisfaction, he left the chamber. Adama looked about the table and saw that most of the Council members' expressions ranged from neutral to angry. "Commander Adama!" Tinia said harshly, "I hope that you will be talking with him soon about this." Adama allowed himself a faint smile, "I intend to, Siress Tinia. But when I do, it will be to tell him that he's given me one of the proudest centons of my life." Domra seemed on the verge of gagging, "What? Your subordinate shows contempt for duly appointed authority, and you consider that worthy of praise?" The Commander rose and allowed only the faintest disdain to enter his voice, "What Dr. Salik has done, Sire Domra, is demonstrate that we are still a race worth saving." "That is uncalled for, Commander!" Tinia suddenly exploded with white-hot fury, "How dare you question our motives in such a backhanded manner? We understand there are risks involved, but I have seen nothing from you or Dr. Salik to indicate that a practical alternative exists to this situation." Adama was slightly taken aback, as he had never seen Tinia this angry before. "My esteemed colleague is correct," Montrose was glaring at Adama as well, "If you wish to accuse us of being so evil, then at least give us the courtesy of saying that directly to us, and not hiding behind backhanded phrases." Inside, Adama realized that he had made a tactical blunder. He had allowed his frustration over the situation, and the sudden demands of the Council to intrude at a time when he should have kept his tongue guarded. Now, the long-term repercussions could be even more damaging than if he had openly questioned the Council's right to intervene in this affair. God help me, he thought as he finally decided there was nothing he could say at this point to make the situation any better. Instead, he turned his back to them and left the chamber. For almost a centon, there was silence in the chamber, punctuated only by the seething from those members who were most angry. Sire Anton, the only member who had sided with Adama, was sadly shaking his head, as if to indicate that even he felt the Commander had not handled the situation properly. "This raises more serious matters that we as a body will have to discuss at some future session," Geller had to bite his tongue to keep his voice close to normal. "But for now, I suggest we proceed with the matter at hand. Dr. Wilker?" The Electronics Scientist, who had remained largely silent throughout the proceedings, abruptly stiffened. "Are you capable of carrying out the removal operations without Dr. Salik?" Wilker hesitated slightly. He wasn't that happy with how things had developed, but he didn't see how he could follow Salik's example at this point. "If you wish me to," he finally spoke. "You are so ordered," Geller said coldly, "Unless you wish to follow your colleague's example?" Wilker swallowed several times and then nodded weakly. Without saying another word, he left the room. "There is nothing more to discuss," Geller said, feeling a sense of vindication replace his anger, "Since our President is not here, I will take the liberty of declaring this session of the Council adjourned." After stopping by his lab to get Fairfax and other members of his staff to assist him, Wilker made his way back to the landing bay, feeling nothing but rising dread as he drew closer. As soon as he arrived, he'd have to explain the situation to the angry warriors and security people, and he knew it would mean another mess on his hands before he could proceed without feeling a burdensome weight on his shoulders. There was one part of Wilker that wished he could have found the courage to follow Salik's example, but that had never been part of the scientist's nature. Political arguments had always revolted him, and he'd been determined throughout his career to avoid them. Taking a stand that could mean the end of his career wasn't something he had any desire to do. When his team reached the landing bay, he saw the warriors, now joined by Apollo as well, still standing in front of the spacecraft, while the blackshirts of Council Security stood some ten meters back with the rest of the assembled crowd. "What's happened?" Apollo demanded, already knowing this wasn't bound to be good news. "I'm sorry, Captain," Wilker felt he could at least let the warriors know he didn't like the decision, "The Council took a vote. They're letting them out." "What?" Starbuck's face twisted, "I don't believe it!" "Why am I not surprised?" Apollo was more resigned. "Salik wouldn't do this!" "Dr. Salik isn't doing it," Wilker said, "My team's been left with no choice but to obey the order, gentlemen." "Ever consider showing some backbone for a change, Wilker?" Starbuck said angrily. "Maybe I would, if you'd be willing to serve my time in the brig with me," Wilker retorted gently. "At the risk of interrupting this friendly chat," the smug expression immediately returned to Reese as if a switch had been thrown on, "I think there can't be anymore questions as to who's in charge, right gentlemen?" he sneered at the five warriors. "Step aside." "Apollo-" Starbuck started to move toward them, but the captain grabbed his shoulder and shook his head. "Let's not make things worse," he said gently, "The Commander wouldn't want us to do that." "Right," Boomer said reluctantly as he, Jolly and Castor parted to the left so Reese could lead his team toward the hatch opening. But as Reese drew close, he and the rest of his team stopped in their tracks when they saw a figure emerge. Immediately, Apollo and Starbuck recognized the silver-suited brown haired man they had seen inside the pod chamber earlier. "Good Lord," Jolly whispered. The man glared suspiciously and pointed at them with his left hand, as though he were aiming a weapon but no one could see anything in his hand. "Don't come any closer!" he warned. When he saw movement on the other side from the warriors who'd stayed back, he abruptly pointed at them, "I said don't come any closer!" Reese, who was closest to him, abruptly cleared his throat and straightened himself. "We ah....we mean you no harm. Welcome aboard the Battlestar Galactica." "Of all the times for him to wake up, it has to be just when he's taken charge," Starbuck muttered under his breath, as he kept his eyes on the stranger. "Quiet!" Apollo whispered sharply, as he felt his stomach knot. "Look, do you understand me?" Reese said, taking a step toward him. "Believe me, we only want to come aboard and help." Suddenly, the man whipped out a weapon with his right hand, which the guard hadn't anticipated since his eyes had been trained on the left hand. A blue streak emitted and struck Reese in the chest, and he collapsed to the ground. Instantly, the other guards backed away, while the crowd of spectators suddenly let out horrified gasps and began to dash towards the other end of the compartment toward the turbo lifts. "Jolly, Castor, get them under control before they jam the lifts!" Apollo shouted. The two men ran off to control the panicking crowd. Wilker's support team immediately tended to the fallen Reese. The other Council Security guards were staring angrily at the stranger, as though they wanted to take some revenge on him right away. "Is he okay?" Starbuck asked with genuine concern. However much he disliked Reese, seeing the guard killed was the last thing he would have wanted to happen. "He's alive." Fairfax said as he checked his scanner. "But he needs med-techs to treat him." "Get him out, fast!" Apollo barked. "Boomer, you help them and make sure there's a clear path to the turbo lifts." "Got it!" Boomer dashed over and helped the technicians and the other Council Security men get Reese to his feet and drag him off to the other end of the room, where Jolly and Castor were finally making some headway at getting the crowd under control. Only Wilker, frozen in amazement, remained behind with Apollo and Starbuck. "Look," Apollo said calmly, "Please, in the name of humanity, we mean what we say. We only wish to welcome you in friendship." "Friendship?" the man suddenly roared. "If you were our friends, you wouldn't have brought us here! You know that!" "No!" Apollo said hurriedly as he dropped his laser pistol to the floor in what he hoped would be a gesture the man would understand. "Please, listen to us. We're brothers." "You're lying!" he didn't lessen his tone, "Your markings are not ours!" Starbuck dropped his own laser and came up alongside Apollo, "Are our markings those of your enemy?" The man stared at him for what seemed an eternity to the two warriors, but was only a few microns. Slowly, he put his weapon back in his pocket. "All right," he took a breath and then suddenly coughed, "All right. Are you from one of our abandoned lunar outposts?" Apollo and Starbuck traded glances. "You're aboard a ship," Apollo said gently, "The Battlestar Galactica." "Ship?" he coughed again and his breathing now became more labored. "That's....impossible. No ship can....." he coughed again, "This atmosphere is like that of Terra. It's killing me! Don't you understand? It's killing me and it'll kill everyone else on board!" he began to slowly collapse to the ground. "Wilker, don't just stand there, get Salik and a med-tech down here, fast!" Apollo shouted, "Use the emergency unicom for the ship. Password number 390149!" Wilker nodded and sprinted over to where the nearest telecom unit was mounted. Apollo and Starbuck made their way over to the man, who was now sitting on the tarmac in front of the hatch opening. "Don't touch me," he whispered, "It'll contaminate me more." "I'm sorry," Apollo said with all the regret he could put in his voice, "We didn't understand your mission." "How could you not have?" he coughed and blinked in disbelief, "You're from Terra. You have----" he coughed again, "Watts! Did Watts....?" Unconsciousness then overtook the man and he collapsed. Several agonizing centons passed before they heard a turbo lift from the other side descend and the clatter of feet as Salik and Cassiopeia approached. "Don't touch him!" Salik warned. "We didn't lay a finger on him!" Apollo got to his feet. "He said he can't breathe!" Cassiopeia quickly leaned over and switched on her med-scanner, "He's right. There's no sign of bacteria, it's respiratory failure caused by the atmosphere density." "All right, then get him into a decompression chamber in the Life Station and have the atmosphere lowered to one-fifth our reading!" Salik said, "Now! And as soon as you're done, the three of you go through full decontamination, just in case he's carrying germs hostile to us. Wilker, you come with me!" As Apollo, Starbuck and Cassiopeia lifted the man to his feet and carried him off, the two scientists dashed inside the hatchway. When they reached the main compartment, they saw the woman sitting up in her open chamber, but with a dazed expression as though she were finding it hard to breathe as well. "Who...." she whispered, "Who are you?" "Friends," Salik said gently, "We're friends. You just wait here, we'll have some help real soon." he turned back to Wilker, "Get a stretcher and more med-techs down here fast to transport her up to a chamber in the Life Station. We'll leave the children in their pods for now and then have more techs get ready to move them into our own chambers which will keep their life readings stable." Wilker, feeling glad that the decision to open the chambers up had been taken out of hands nodded and dashed out again. Once he was gone, Salik gently patted the young woman on the shoulder with soothing, paternal reassurance. "It's okay," he said, "Just lie down in there until we can get you moved to safety." "The children," her voice grew more broken as her breathing became more labored. "They're so young. Make sure....they're safe." "We will, we will." Salik then glanced over at the three chambers that still held the three youths, wondering if they would be able to keep that promise for the long term. Chapter Four A full day had passed, and with all five of the spacecraft's passengers now safely in chambers inside the Galactica's Life Station, and back in a state of suspended animation, events aboard the battlestar had stabilized somewhat. But as Adama listened to Salik make his report, he knew that it was only temporary and that soon, the crisis would erupt again. "Commander, there is no getting around the fact that our atmospheric pressure, which is configured to that of all the middle and inner Colonies, was literally crushing them alive. Even if the atmosphere had been adjusted for the outer Colonies, that still would have been fatal." "I don't understand," Apollo said, "They appear to be human in every aspect. How can there be such a disparity?" "Human beings are adaptable, Apollo," Salik said, "Wherever they came from must have had an atmosphere that steadily grew thinner over a period of perhaps....millennia." "Or put another way, our own Colonies could have developed a thicker atmosphere in the seven millennia after they were first settled," Sheba noted. "Exactly," Salik nodded. "But whichever explanation is correct, the simple fact is that taking them out of those chambers will kill them within centons." Adama shook his head sadly as he felt the heavy sense of burden returning to him. "Very well, Doctor. Thank you for your report and let me know if anything else develops." "Commander," Salik bowed and then shot a sly glance at Apollo before leaving the room. The captain nodded faintly to indicate acknowledgment. As he looked about the room, he saw that Adama, Starbuck, Tigh and Sheba hadn't noticed their silent exchange. "Well that's just great," Adama put his finger to his lips in sad contemplation, "To come so close, perhaps to the very humans whose tribe we've been seeking, and to see it reach what seems like a total dead end." "Maybe not," Tigh offered, "It might be possible after some time to communicate with them even with them inside those chambers." "Possible," Adama admitted, "But even so....." "No!" Apollo abruptly spoke up, his tone as angry as it had been the previous day in the conversation with Wilker. "What do you mean, no?" Tigh looked at him in bewilderment, "With the lives of every man, woman and child in this Fleet dependent on whatever answers they can give us to some simple questions? Are they from Earth? And if they are, can Earth support us? Is it sufficiently advanced technologically to help us in our struggle with the Cylons? Or do they even have the technology to protect themselves from a Cylon invasion?" "You've made your point, Colonel," Adama said, "And Apollo, before you give me another moralizing discourse about the ethics of keeping them aboard the Galactica, I suggest you remember that as well." "I'm sorry, but the lives of those five people don't belong to us!" Apollo wasn't backing down. "They must be allowed to continue on their journey." "Maybe eventually they can!" Sheba cut in, "But what in heaven's name is the reason for doing it now before we get some simple answers to questions that would take only a few centars for us to find out once they can communicate? Apollo, are you so dense that you can't grasp the significance of that?" "No, Sheba, I know what you're saying, but I don't think you're seeing why I think it's important that we let them go as soon as possible." "Then if there's a point tell me what it is in common Colonial Standard, for sagan's sake!" Sheba felt herself growing more frustrated. However much she wanted to see Apollo's point and avoid quarreling with him, it was proving difficult for Sheba to avoid it. "You keep wanting to show how concerned you are with their well-being and how ethically wrong it is to keep them here. Okay, fine, but make the case for letting them go without making it look like we're throwing away our chance to find the key to Earth, because if you're not taking that into consideration then I think you ought to be sized for a restrainer and placed in the Nuthouse!" "All right," Apollo waved his arms and lowered his voice to a calm tone, "All right. This is my point. Suppose their destination is close by to where we intercepted them? If we could let them go and track them to where they land, we'd be in a better position to find out the information we need. We'd have a specific location to correlate what they'd have to tell us. I mean, there's one thing we're not considering when you say we should interrogate them here on the Galactica inside those chambers. What incentive would they have to tell us the truth, when they haven't the vaguest idea of who we are and where we come from? But if we show a gesture of friendship to them by letting them finish their voyage, then that means they'll trust us and tell us all we need to know once our tracking team arrives at their destination with them." "It would have helped if you'd explained that sooner," Tigh said sourly. "When you put it that way, it makes sense. But how can you be sure that we're close to their destination? How do we know it wasn't so far across the galaxy it would take hundreds of yahrens for their ship to reach it?" "Because I think the closeness of their destination explains why their life support power readings were dwindling. They were in a timed program mode to wake them up when they reached their destination. It wasn't Wilker's probing that caused the readings to drop, it was the simple passage of time reaching closer and closer to the planned arrival time." "That's all theoretical Captain," Tigh remained unconvinced, "You don't have star charts or anything concrete to back that up, and that means you want to risk the well-being of this Fleet on a whim." "It's a chance we have to take, Colonel," Apollo said, "Because the longer we keep them here, the longer we take them on a heading going away from their intended destination, and that means we'll face in all likelihood some uncooperative people locked in pressure chambers who can never get out, and hostile Council members who'll demand even more drastic steps." "If we let them go, then who tracks them?" Adama inquired. Apollo shot a glance at Starbuck, who was slowly shaking his head in resignation to the fact that he'd just been made a 'volunteer' again. "The two of you," Sheba looked at him dubiously, "Putting yourselves at risk to escort a ship to an unknown destination, and by the time you find out how far away it is, you won't have a prayer of having any fuel to make a return trip to the Galactica." "She's right," Adama said, "I'd have to bring the Fleet to almost total dead stop to give you a safety margin for getting back if you're talking about using vipers to escort them to where they're going." "If this is close enough as I think it is, that shouldn't be a problem." "How are you defining 'close by', Apollo?" his father had never seen this kind of brazen determination in his son before. "As long as it takes to fly a long-range deep patrol?" "And not only that, how do you maintain your heading alongside a craft that moves that slow?" Tigh added. "We power ourselves down to sublight and match their speed and heading." "You've sure thought of everything, haven't you?" Sheba injected a note of sarcasm into her voice. Apollo was showing the same kind of total certainty that he'd demonstrated when he'd volunteered to head-up Starbuck's defense in the murder tribunal. And she'd seen firsthand how Apollo had at one point made a costly blunder that nearly destroyed Starbuck's chances of getting acquitted. "I wouldn't be proposing this if I hadn't," Apollo didn't look at her, or take note of the pointed edge in her question. "Father, don't you see the logic of it?" "Not quite," his father leaned back in his chair, "Suppose you make it to this planet. Then what? You've already seen how they can't breathe in our atmosphere. How could you and Starbuck survive in their atmosphere?" "It's different," Apollo said, "We can more easily adapt to a thinner atmosphere for a short period of time." "There you go again!" Tigh threw up his arms, "What are you defining as 'short-term'?" Apollo looked at the executive officer, "I'm defining it as long enough to do the job, Colonel." An uneasy silence now filled the room, as though the others were trying to think of any other reason to make Apollo see how foolhardy his plan was. And Starbuck, who had stayed quiet the whole time, amusingly found himself wishing he could think of one too. Sheba finally realized the one remaining thing that hadn't been considered. "What about the Council?" she asked, "They acted quickly to take jurisdiction over removing them from their chambers. Would they allow you to let them go to carry out this scheme of Apollo's?" "Oh Lord," Adama rubbed his temple, "That's so true. After what happened yesterday, my relations with them are at a low point." "Then Commander, maybe what you should do is invoke your authority under the Martial Law statute and declare a military emergency that necessitated letting them go," Starbuck spoke up and wondered how it was that when he finally spoke, it was to come up with a solution for letting the mission go forward. "After all, they did shoot one of our guards. You could make the argument that these people are the worst things we've come across since the Cylons." "What are you talking about?" Sheba now wondered if Starbuck was going crazy. "No reasonable person would buy that explanation in a micron." "This is the Council we're dealing with, not reasonable people," Starbuck smirked. "Hold it!" Adama threw up his hands in exasperation, which got their attention. He then slowly brought them together in quiet contemplation and looked up at Starbuck with a cold expression that indicated he didn't care for the lieutenant's flippancy. "If I declare that it was a military emergency that precipitated releasing them, I'd be insulting their intelligence, Starbuck. And while you might think it would be amusing to try and pull that kind of stunt on them, I would remind you that the men and women who serve on the Council, no matter how stubborn and arrogant some of them might be, are not Academy cadets to play pranks and tricks on. They are the duly appointed representatives of a governing body with a long, ancient tradition that I have the deepest respect for. If I decide to use my authority to let them go without letting them vote on it, I will tell them the blunt truth that I did it because I felt it was in the best interests of our people, and I will then let the consequences fall as they may." He then stopped to rub his temple again, "And given the mood they're in now, initiating this plan could result in some very serious consequences for the long haul." His words had an intimidating effect on both Apollo and Starbuck. And for the first time, Apollo found himself becoming more cognizant of the burden he'd be placing his father under as a result of this, and he cursed himself for not having realized that consequence much sooner. Apollo came over and gently touched his father's wrist, "Father," he said, "If you feel those considerations are more important to consider, then I won't pressure you into accepting this proposal of mine." "No," Adama shook his head, "The bottom line is, we've been left with no choice since keeping them sealed up in those pressure chambers forever isn't a viable long-term solution." He paused, "You have one lucky break in your favor. Since there are no more civilians aboard that craft, that put jurisdiction of the landing bay back under Colonial Security's control. Act quickly, and you can get those chambers in the Life Station aboard the craft before the Council has time to figure out what's happening." "Dr. Salik has been preparing for this contingency," Apollo said, "We won't waste a micron." "The Lords of Kobol be with you," Adama clasped his son's arm for a brief instant. "I'll.....explain everything to Boxey." Apollo stopped in his tracks as he realized to his horror that he hadn't thought out explaining this mission that would probably take him away for a long time, to his son. "Oh, frack. Thanks." He shook his head and wondered why it was that he never seemed to consider the feelings of those close to him when his mind came up with these plans. "I promise you, Father, we'll get back with the information we need." Once Apollo and Starbuck left the room, Sheba found herself sighing with a mixture of frustration and admiration. And wondering which of those two emotions was the more dominant. When Apollo and Starbuck reached the Life Station, they saw that only Salik and Cassiopeia were present in the room that contained the five decompression chambers. As far as Apollo was concerned, the fewer people there were that knew about this, the better. But he also knew that he was going to be needing the med-tech for this mission. "We're set, Doc," Apollo said, "Cassiopeia, you'll have to give us a hand so we can get these chambers back aboard their ship." "What are you talking about?" she raised her eyebrows. "Who ordered this?" "The Commander," Apollo said bluntly. "Without Council approval? Don't you know what they could do to you both after this?" "Hey, after facing a murder rap last sectar, how could I possibly be afraid of what can happen over something like this?" Starbuck smirked. "Dr. Salik, you've got to stop them!" she looked almost pleadingly at the Chief Medical Officer. "Don't look at me, Cassiopeia," Salik said dryly, "I'm with them. In fact, I'm going along with them to help monitor the equipment." "No," Apollo shook his head, "You're too important to the Fleet as Chief Medical Officer, Doctor. We can't let you accompany us." "Accompany you to where?" "To their destination, Cassiopeia," Apollo said, "Starbuck and I will fly escort for their ship." "Apollo, even if you force me to stay behind, someone still has to monitor that equipment," Salik said and then stared at Cassiopeia, whom he'd come to regard as his favorite and best med-tech over the last ten sectars since she'd begun working on the staff. "Wait a micron," the blonde med-tech began to shake her head vigorously. "We could use your help, Cassiopeia," Apollo said gently. "Those systems do need to be monitored." "You're asking me to take part in.....in," she struggled to find the right word, "Mutiny." "It's not mutiny, Cass," Starbuck said, "The Commander's given his full authorization for this mission. He's going to be taking all of the consequences, if there are any." "Think of this more as an act of mercy, Cassie," Salik said with the kind of paternal edge he only used on rare occasions with her, "What they're planning is the only chance these people have of surviving, and for us to get the information we need from them." "So what do you say, volunteer?" her boyfriend grinned. "I guess I have no choice," she sighed, "But wait a micron. There are five chambers. We need one more person to help us." "Get Nestor," Salik said, referring to one of her fellow med-techs, "He's a good man who'll do what we ask. Apollo and Starbuck and I will start with these three." It took them several centons to get the chambers detached and loaded out into the corridor for its journey down to the landing bay. With each of them moving one chamber, the pace was slower then they would have liked. "Careful, Cassiopeia," Salik cautioned as he pushed his containing one of the two small children around a corner and motioned for her and her fellow med-tech, Nestor, to follow with theirs. The med-techs each pushed the other children while Apollo and Starbuck were handling the two adults. "Don't worry," she said. "What did you say this was for, anyway?" Nestor asked. "We're temporarily putting them back in their support chambers aboard the ship to recalibrate our settings with these chambers," Salik said. "There are some things we might have overlooked in the haste of getting them hooked up into our own equipment." At the head of the procession, Starbuck turned to Apollo and whispered to him, "Sounds plausible, right?" "Right," Apollo grinned. They reached the maintenance turbo lift and with the lift accommodating room for only three chambers, took two trips to get them down to the compartment outside the entrance to the landing bay. Apollo reached the door and was on the verge of opening it when his face suddenly went crestfallen. "Oh frack," he uncharacteristically swore. "What's wrong?" Starbuck asked. "Take a look," Apollo motioned, "Look who came out of the Life Station way too soon." Starbuck peered through the window and a sour look came over his face, "Frack and felgercarb," he decided to avoid using the third profane word in the expression out of deference to Cassiopeia. "Reese and about four of his other blackshirts. I thought the Commander said Colonial Security had taken things over in this area." "Something must have happened in the meantime. "What's going on?" a befuddled Nestor asked from the back of the procession. "Slight complication, Nestor," Starbuck said. "In the meantime, could you do us a favor? Just say nothing, and follow our lead." The male med-tech gave Salik a puzzled stare. "Do as he says, Nestor," Salik smiled, "They know what they're doing." Cassiopeia stopped herself from rolling her eyes as she prepared to move the chamber she'd been pushing through the door. "What'd it feel like?" one of Reese's fellow Council guards was asking. "Weird feeling. A little worse then one of our own stun setting pistols, but not too bad or else I might have been on my back another cycle." Twenty meters away, Boomer, Jolly and Castor were trying not to show their disdain over the blackshirts recent arrival. "Just when it was starting to get peaceful down here again, they had to show up." the muscular Colonial Security Guard sighed. "'Council requests they stand by to prepare ship for inspection by Council members'" Boomer disgustedly repeated the words Reese had spoken when he and his team had arrived several centons ago. "The way they just run around at their beck and call so obediently is what drives me nuts most about them. The average Council Security guy doesn't sign up because he's committed to civilian law enforcement, it's because he knows how to take orders from those who'll give them nice perks eventually." "That's always been their biggest problem," Jolly said, "It starts with the rotten training and recruiting programs they have. It's always attracted the wrong group of people." "People who would have made better bureauticians then security men," Castor nodded, "I think if Adama appointed a new Chief of Operations who had a different attitude, that would do wonders for the program." Their conversation stopped when they saw the door to the adjacent compartment open, and then saw Apollo enter pushing one of the decompression chambers, with Starbuck and the others close behind. "What's going on?" Reese frowned as he stepped toward them. "Medical emergency," Salik said, "We're putting these people back in their support chambers temporarily to take some new readings." "I wasn't notified about this," Reese looked at the group skeptically. "Come on Reese, word doesn't always travel so fast in this day and age," Starbuck said in a way that would keep him guessing as to whether it was good natured teasing or condescension. "It's only temporary." "All right," Reese said cautiously. "But if that means those people are going back on board that ship, then Council orders go back into effect." he turned back to face the three warriors, "And that means my group is now back in charge of this area until then." "Oh but of course," Boomer said sarcastically, "We wouldn't think of stepping on your centon of glory, Reese." The dark-skinned warrior made his way over to Apollo and Starbuck, who were moving their chambers inside. "You guys need help?" "Not a bit, Boomer," Apollo smiled nonchalantly, "The three of you just stand by outside and give Reese and his group a hand if he needs it." "The only way I'd give him a hand is if it's my fist making contact with his nose," Boomer said, "And if this is a medical situation, why are you two involved?" "You shouldn't be so inquisitive, Boomer," Starbuck managed to pat him on the shoulder as he entered the hatchway. Boomer shook his head in disbelief and made his way back over to Jolly and Castor. "Well?" the corpulent warrior asked, his arms folded. "I have no idea," Boomer shook his head, "But in a way," he glanced over at the ship again where he could see Salik, Cassiopeia and Nestor bringing up the rear with the other chambers. "In a way I'm kind of glad. I have a feeling I'm not going to be a volunteer today." "Huh?" Castor glanced quizzically at his triad partner, "What does that mean?" "Inside joke, Castor." As soon as they were inside, Starbuck finally let some of the irritation he'd been feeling inside bubble over, "Okay, now we got them inside. But if we send those Life Station chambers back out without these people in them, then even those Council Security dimwits will realize we just sold them a bunch of felgercarb." "What are you talking about?" Nestor's eyes widened. "Change of plans, Nestor," Salik said, as he opened up the seal on the chamber containing the adult woman. "Get them hooked up inside their own chambers." "I don't understand this!" the male med-tech said in exasperation. "That's good," Apollo patted him on the shoulder, "Because that way, you leave yourself in a lot better shape." "Apollo?" Cassiopeia was trembling as she backed away from the now open chamber that contained the brown-haired man, "I think he's coming to!" Before any of the others could react, the silver-suited man had come upright in his chamber, staring at the five people inside with suspicion and hostility. "Who are you?" he demanded, "What do you want with us?" "Take it easy, buddy," Starbuck held up a reassuring hand, "We're just trying to help." "Help?" the man angrily barked, "My God, don't you know what you've done to us?" "We know, we know!" Apollo said hastily, "That's why we're trying to do what we can to put you and your people back on course." The hostility faded slightly from his face as he took a breath, "You....you really mean that?" "Yes! Look what other proof can we give you?" His eyes then darted toward one of the ship's chambers on the other side. "Sarah! The children! Where are they?" "They're in these chambers of ours," Salik said, "If you can help us put them back in your own chambers and get them reactivated, your journey can resume quickly." The man stepped out of the Life Station chamber, and quickly went over to a console that automatically activated the ship's chambers. Their glass doors slid open and now awaited the return of their passengers. "All right, let's get started," Apollo said, "Starbuck, Nestor, Cassie, you take care of the children and get them inside. I'll place the woman in her chamber." He then turned back to the man. "What is your name?" "My name is Michael," he said, still filled with suspicion. "And that's all I'll reveal." "Okay, Michael," Apollo held up a hand and then pointed to the others, "I'm Apollo. That's Starbuck. Cassiopeia. Nestor, and Dr. Salik. Will you help me with this woman?" "Her name is Sarah," he said. "Yes, I will help put her back in." It took two centons to place her inside the chamber, while the other Colonials took care of the children. Finally, when they were in place, Michael activated a switch on the console and the chambers slid shut. "Their systems are now coming back on-line," he then stared at the five Colonials, "But before I step back into my own chamber, I want some answers. Are you from the Eastern Alliance?" Some frowns came over their faces. "No," Apollo said diplomatically, "What is this....Alliance?" "You're lying," the hostility returned to Michael's voice again. "How could you not know of the Alliance?" "Because we don't come from your system!" Apollo said, "We're a brother tribe of humanity that's traveled a great distance across the galaxy. You and this craft are the first contact we've had with anything from your civilization." A tense silence filled the air as the Colonials waited for the man called Michael to respond to this. The microns ticked away with no response, and Cassiopeia could feel her heart pounding nervously as she wondered what answer would finally come. "You expect me to believe that?" "How else can you account for the fact that we don't wear any markings familiar to you, or that you're inside a ship that by your own admission is bigger then anything known to your civilization?" For the first time, Michael's posture relaxed slightly. "You know nothing about where we come from?" "Only that you come from a planet called Terra." "My people come from there, yes," Michael was still finding this too much to believe, "But Sarah, the children and I. We were born on Lunar Seven. That's where we escaped from." "Lunar Seven?" Starbuck spoke up for the first time, "Is that another planet in the system?" "It's a satellite colony.....oh for God's sake, what is this nonsense? You know all this! What kind of fool do you take me for about coming from the other side of the galaxy?" "It's the truth, Michael. We hope you can believe that, but whether you do or not won't change what the truth is," Apollo said with a touch more firmness. "Then what reason could you have for stopping us?" he demanded. "Because we were hoping you could help us, Michael," Starbuck said, "That your people could help us answer some questions we've traveled a long ways to find answers to." "Like what?" "Like the location of Terra," Apollo said, "We need to know what course your home planet lies on, and how far away it is." Michael shook his head, "You don't want to know that." "Yes we do," Apollo held his ground. "Especially if that's where you were heading." "I wasn't heading there." "Okay, okay," all the yahrens of studying his father's approach to diplomacy now came to the forefront, "Where were you heading, then?" Michael assumed a rigid posture and shook his head more vigorously, "I'm not going to tell you." "All right," the captain said calmly, "But if you don't tell us, then how can we put you back on course?" "This ship knows it's course!" he became indignant, "All you have to do is put it back in space, and it will know where to go. It's all pre-programmed." "All right, we get the picture," Starbuck stepped up alongside Apollo, "But it wouldn't hurt to just trust us and let us help you." "Whether you like it or not, Michael, you need us to get you off this ship of ours and back on course," Apollo said, "Now please. Let us help. I want to see to it you get to your destination, but at the very least you can give us some information about where Terra is because the location is of great interest to us." "No," he shook his head, "If you're from the Alliance, it would be crazy for me to tell you, and if you're not from the Alliance, then I will not be responsible for your deaths. If you represent another tribe of humanity, you don't want to go to Terra. The Alliance destroyers are lined up between Lunar Seven and there and would kill you all." "Oh, I wouldn't be sure of that," Starbuck decided he couldn't resist, but Apollo glared at him, indicating that revealing the nature of their technology wasn't the smart move yet. "Look, maybe we can discuss that afterwards." "Captain," Salik broke his silence, "We really don't have time to discuss this with Michael much longer. He needs to get back into his own pressure chamber or soon he'll start feeling the effects of our environment inside here. This journey has to begin in the next few centons." "Centons?" Michael's eyebrows went up in blank incomprehension. "Will someone tell me what the frack is going on here?" Nestor's exasperated voice filled the room. "All right, all right, everyone quiet!" Apollo threw up his arms. "Cassiopeia, you're going to stay here aboard the ship when it takes off. As soon as you're away, get Michael into his chamber and make sure everything's prepared. The rest of us, we need to get these Life Station chambers off." "If we come off with empty chambers, then Reese and his goons will start asking more questions." Starbuck pointed out. "Cover them up," Apollo said, "And we'll get Boomer and Jolly in to take out the extra ones. We have to give them the heads-up as well to keep Council Security back once these engines fire up." The black-haired captain then looked back at Michael, "Do you trust us?" "I'm still not sure," he admitted, "But I have to admit, I'm beginning to think we have a few things in common......Apollo." "That's always a good way to start a friendship," Apollo smiled and patted him on the shoulder. The first two support chambers came off with Apollo and Starbuck wheeling them. Nestor and Salik followed behind them with a. third. "Just a centon," Reese took a step toward them, "Where are they going now?" "Back to the Life Station, Reese," Starbuck smiled, "We told you that before, didn't we? We're starting with the two adults and the older kid. The two small ones we'll get last." The Council guard stepped back, "Okay, go ahead." "Boomer, Jolly?" Apollo motioned. "Give us a hand here, will you? It's a bit of a tight squeeze around here." The two warriors, who along with Castor had been keeping their distance from the Council Security men, walked over and followed them out the door into the next compartment. As soon as the door closed, Apollo's voice took on an edge of urgency. "Okay, Salik, Nestor, both of you get out of here. Your work is done." "All right," the male med-tech said sourly, "And I hope I can get an explanation on this at last!" "You will son, you will," the Chief Medical Officer patted him on the shoulder, "I'll buy you a drink with my compliments and explain everything." Once the two of them had disappeared round the corner, Apollo turned back to his two fellow warriors. "Okay, here's what it comes down to. Both of you take the last two support chambers that're inside that ship and get them out of there. Once you've done that, you're to make sure that Reese and his goons keep their distance." "For what?" Boomer now realized that this was going to be more serious then he thought it might be. "Those engines will be firing up as soon as you two are off," Apollo said, "We're letting them resume their journey." "You what?" Boomer's face twisted. This wasn't something even he would have given support to. "Boomer, we don't have time to argue about this. The Commander's okayed this plan, and Starbuck and I will be escorting this ship to their destination. Then we can get the hard evidence we need. By the time we get back, we're going to be one step closer to Earth." "Sounds absolutely crazy," Jolly said, "But....since it comes from you and the Commander, I guess it's the best option we've got." "Glad you see it that way, Jolly. Now just get that empty chamber off, and get ready for Hades to break loose." "Catch you later," Starbuck threw them a friendly smirk as he and Apollo took off down the corridor. Boomer dimly shook his head, "I was wrong. I did become a volunteer after all." A centon later, they were aboard the ship, where Cassiopeia had quickly filled them in. Michael had briefly returned to his pressure chamber during the interlude to gather his strength again, but was now outside again. "Do you feel okay to fly this thing off, Michael?" the med-tech asked. "Yes, I'm fine. As long as I don't step outside the ship I can last for about five or ten minutes." "Michael, what's a minute?" Jolly frowned. "Never mind that, just as long as it's enough time to do the job," Boomer said as he shook hands with Michael, "Sorry we didn't get more time to chat, but good luck to you." "Thank you," Michael felt comfortable reciprocating the handshake. "I must take my position up front now." As soon as he was gone, Boomer and Jolly took hold of the two remaining Life Station Chambers and moved them toward the hatch that led outside. Before they disappeared, the dark-skinned warrior gave one final smirk to Cassiopeia. "Welcome to Apollo's club of volunteers, Cassie." "I'll be glad to trade stories when I get back," the blonde-med tech returned it and then closed the door sealing the rest of the ship from the outside. Boomer and Jolly had gotten the two covered chambers away from the ship, when they suddenly heard the sound of the engines firing up. "What's going on?" Reese and the other Council Security Guards bolted toward them. "Why are those engines firing up?" "Council order," Boomer said, "Now that the people are off, we're jettisoning the ship to cut down on the contamination risk to ourselves and the Fleet." "I didn't receive any notification of that!" "You didn't?" Jolly feigned bewilderment, "You had your com-lines checked lately, Reese?" "Hey, Castor, help us move these kids out of here!" Boomer motioned toward the Colonial Security Guard. "Wait a fracking micron!" Reese exploded, "I want some answers, and not this felgercarb you're giving me." "Come on, Reese, you're endangering these children by leaving them out here in front of a ship firing its engines." Jolly said, "Even you can't be that cruel." "Now you listen here, fat boy," Reese snarled, "I've had enough from you!" "Then shouldn't that be your cue to leave?" Jolly wasn't about to let a cheap insult from Reese faze him in the slightest. "Let's go Castor, we can't keep Salik waiting," Boomer said. "No you don't!" Reese whipped out his pistol and in the process, his hand jarred against the covering on the chamber, causing it to fall to the ground. Revealing the empty contents inside. "What the frack...." Reese said dumbfoundedly as he then snatched the cover on the second one away, which also revealed an empty chamber. "Hey Jolly!" Boomer faked the tone of a chiding parent, "You forgot the kids!" The only sound over the increasing roar of the engines was Castor letting out a burst of laughter. And then, before the stunned Council Security guards could recover from the unexpected sight, the orange craft moved down the tarmac and out of the landing bay. Adama was already waiting on the bridge, anticipating the centon when it would finally happen. As soon as he saw the indicator on Omega's console that indicated the spacecraft had launched, he wasted no time giving his next order. "Launch Blue Squadron patrol to intercept!" The indicator lights then went green, "Blue Squadron away, sir," Omega reported. The Commander ascended the stairs to the upper level where Tigh was waiting. The executive officer's expression was anything but exuberant. "It's done then," Tigh said, "What now?" Adama sighed, "Now we wait, Colonel. And we pray." he rubbed the spot between his eyes, "I'll be in my quarters if anyone needs me." "Does that include anyone from the Council?" The Commander smiled mirthlessly at his old friend, "Especially them." For a centar, Adama sat behind his desk, waiting for one of them to arrive. The only question left was how big a delegation would it be. No matter how big it was, he knew he was in for his most difficult confrontation with the Council yet. When the delegation finally arrived, it consisted of four members. Geller, Tinia, Domra, and to Adama's surprise, Anton. "I've been expecting you," Adama kept his tone pleasant, "Won't you sit down?" "Let's dispense with pleasantries, Adama," Tinia spoke, her voice one of controlled fury. "What explanation do you have for letting that Earth ship go in defiance of Council edicts?" The Commander was slightly surprised to see Tinia assume the position of leader for the group. Tinia had not been one of the more pro-active members of the Council in the past. During the Count Iblis affair she had actually been more sympathetic to Adama's position then those who had been ready to turn control of the Fleet to Iblis like Domra and Geller. It was clear though, that this was an issue that offended her deeply and made her determined to speak out more openly. Adama rose from his chair and with hands behind his back, assumed a full command bearing that indicated he was not going to let himself be intimidated. But when he spoke, he kept his voice measured and calm. "Circumstances forced me to conclude that our best hope in finding the answers we seek, lay in letting the ship resume its journey." "And what circumstances were those, Commander?" Tinia didn't let up. "The fact that a majority of the Council had decided to handle the situation otherwise? And is this going to be your standard operating procedure whenever we as a body decide upon a course of action that isn't to your liking?" Adama held his ground, "Siress Tinia, I deeply regret that circumstances have led to this unfortunate quarrel between myself and the Council. However, as military commander, it is my responsibility to take what I consider to be necessary steps that impact on the matter of finding the necessary information that will lead us to the 13th tribe." "Oh is that so, Adama?" Domra cut in coldly, "This is a strange new formula for finding information. Letting the people who have the information go before we had so much as one centon to ask them a single question!" "Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck will get that information from them, once the Terran ship arrives at its destination." "Adama," Anton spoke up, his voice calmer then his colleagues, but it was clear that he wasn't going to side with the commander this time, "You chose to gamble with the well-being of 70,000 people in this Fleet for the sake of five people whose lives should not be weighed more in the balance. I was all for letting Dr. Salik take as much time as he needed to properly revive them in favorable conditions, but this course of action you took is inexcusable. As is the disrespect you have demonstrated to all of us on the Council in questioning our motives, and in treating us as enemies rather than partners. That simply will not do if you wish to maintain our respect for your capacity to lead us." Anton's more soft-spoken tone, in many ways made his words more devastating then they could have been from the angrier tones of the other three. Adama felt on the verge of seeing his firm facade crack slightly, but he managed to stave it off. "What then are you saying, Sire Anton?" Adama asked gently, in the manner of one friend asking another, "That the Council wishes to strip me of my position as President of the body?" "We have not come to make proposals or motions, Adama," Geller snapped, "We demand an apology." "As I have said, I regret that circumstances led to this unpleasantness," the Commander said, "And on the matter of questioning your good intentions as to what you felt was best for the people of the Fleet in regard to reviving the Terrans, you have my full apology." "That's not enough, Adama," Tinia said sharply, "We demand an apology for your defying our orders, and we also demand you send out a team of vipers to return the spacecraft to the Galactica immediately." Adama slowly shook his head, "I am sorry, Siress Tinia. That I cannot do. What I have done, I have done, and let me judged by the results of how this plays itself out. If events show that the spacecraft's destination is not nearby and that we can not obtain information from the Terrans, you are free to do whatever you choose with me, and I will take the consequences. But if events show that my order was the correct one, and did lead to productive results, there will be no point in my apologizing for my actions to you, or to anyone." A stony silence filled the room. The hostility hadn't faded from Tinia, Geller or Domra, while Anton at least had assumed a more pensive aura. "Adama," Anton broke the silence, "You are to give us the precise calculations on how long Apollo and Starbuck can track that ship until it becomes a point of no return for them to the Galactica. And once that time has elapsed, you will appear before all of us to report on the mission's success or failure. And what you report will then determine what we will do next." "That is agreeable to me," Adama bowed slightly in respect, "Colonel Tigh will furnish you with the appropriate calculations. In the meantime, I am ordering the Fleet slowed to absolute minimum speed in order to increase their window of opportunity." "I concur," Anton said quickly, before Domra or Geller could offer any protest, "We can consider this matter closed......for now." "Of course," the Commander nodded, "Good day." But once the four members left, Adama collapsed into his chair feeling the greatest sense of defeat he'd known at any time since the journey had begun. Anton might remain fair, but the fury in the faces of Domra, Geller and Tinia was enough to tell him that there would still be repercussions even if the mission turned out to be a triumphant success. Chapter Five Ever since they had launched, Starbuck had felt an aura of bad feeling that even surpassed what he felt whenever he launched to take on an incoming attack force of Cylon fighters. Michael's revelation that his intended destination was not the mysterious planet Terra was the first blow. The second blow was all this mysterious talk of an "Eastern Alliance" and the warning that Terra was not a planet worth visiting. Could this mean that the long-sought goal of Earth was nothing that the people of the Fleet had hoped to find? Despite his feelings, he decided that now was not the time to raise them with Apollo, who still seemed singularly obsessed with his belief that this course of action was the correct one, and that only positive results would ensue. "Stand by for first sleep period in the next five centons," Apollo said, "No telling how far off that ship's destination might be." "Right," Starbuck grumbled, suppressing the urge to vocalize the doubts going through him. "You really know how to volunteer me for a lot of fun things, Apollo. Remind me to invite you to my next party." "Anytime," Apollo cheerily replied, "Now reduce your breathe-flow to minimum." Starbuck kept his next retort to himself as he double-checked the automatic heading one last time before hitting the switch that would put him into sleep mode for the next six centars. Microns later, he was oblivious to all else around him. "As always, Anton was there to rescue him," Sire Geller was fuming as he sat at a table aboard the Rising Star's Main Dining Hall, along with Tinia and Domra. "You shouldn't have allowed him to speak for the rest of us." "Regardless of that, we have no choice but to honor the agreement to take no action for the next few cycles," Tinia said, "At least not until we know whether the mission was a success or not." "I don't even think it's relevant at this point whether the mission succeeds or not," Domra said sourly as he took a sip from his chalice, "Adama has crossed a line that can not be tolerated again under any circumstance. It's time we take some action to make sure that he can never do this again." "How?" Tinia asked. "By revoking the Carillon Resolution which gave him those sweeping powers and ending the formal state of martial law," Domra said. "The timing works to our advantage. Cylon pursuit has become more and more a distant memory to us, and if we are indeed on the verge of discovering the human civilization we intend to settle our people in, what possible reason is there for us to allow Adama the privilege of being a dictator?" The other two Council members were silent for an instant as they briefly digested this. "It could work," Tinia spoke, "But if we were to do that, we could not do so in a way that would come across as humiliating Adama." "I think I have a solution to that problem," Domra said, "One that will prevent Adama and his allies from insinuating that our motives are borne of disrespect or dislike for him." "Is that really true with you, Domra?" Geller spoke up. "Not that I'm in disagreement with your proposal, but.....I've always had the sense that you've never thought highly of Adama at all." The white-haired Council member allowed himself a faint smirk, "What of it? It's the greater objective that counts, doesn't it?" "Of course," Tinia nodded, "We shall take action on these steps regardless of what happens with the mission. And not even Anton can stop this from happening." Cassiopeia had spent the first centar of the journey making sure that Michael was securely back in his own life-support chamber, and then checking the readings on the other four containing Sarah and the children. Not feeling in the mood for sleep at first, she had passed some time trying to make some sense of the readings on some of the other computer systems, but still found nothing she could comprehend. Finally, she gave up and decided to get some rest by sitting at the main control console and placing her head down on the table. It was not a comfortable position and it took her another centar before sleep finally overtook her. She didn't know how long she had been out before she was jolted awake by the sound of an unfamiliar male voice filling the interior. "Paradeen Control to Lunar shuttle Avian. We have you on visual. Do you read?" Cassiopeia came upright in her chair and before she could react to the voice, heard another one, "This is Avian. We have you on visual. All systems operating and on standby mode." "Excellent, Avian," the first voice said. "You are twenty hours behind your ETA. What is your support status?" "We are within tolerances to rendezvous. Thank you." Cassiopeia felt only bewilderment as she fumbled for the switch that would patch her to the two vipers. "Starbuck? Apollo? Did you hear that?" "We did," Starbuck answered, "One of those voices came from inside the shuttle." "I haven't any idea who that was. It sounded like some automatic response on tape." "Well I think it means we're just about there," Apollo chimed in, "We've now got a planetoid on visual, and we're approaching it at a pretty rapid clip." "Cassiopeia, can you figure out what's going on?" "No. I----," she then stopped when she saw Michael's chamber open. He took little time coming to and stepping out. "Michael's awake now. Maybe he knows," the med-tech radioed. "Michael?" Apollo felt a level of urgency rising in his voice. "What's going on?" "It's nothing, Captain," Michael said calmly as he sat next to Cassiopeia and activated a switch. "We're just adjusting to the atmospheric pressure of Paradeen." "Para what?" "Paradeen. That's the name of our destination which you should be seeing right now." "Yeah, we've got it. Who are you in contact with?" "Those voices are computers from the former base we had here. If you'll just follow us down, you'll be safe." "What former base?" Apollo demanded. Michael rubbed his eyes, "There isn't anything left on Paradeen anymore. Nothing but Sarah's father and a place for the children." "Okay," Apollo said, "Why are you telling me this now, and not when we're down on the surface?" "I wanted to be honest with you," Michael said, "There are arrangements to destroy the homing transmitter once we land. We have no choice on that matter." "Wait a centon, Michael," Apollo felt an alarm bell going off, "Are you saying you're going to destroy the information that can give us the coordinates back to where you came from? This....Lunar Seven?" "That's exactly what I'm saying, Captain." "Michael, you can't do that!" Apollo protested, "We need that information! It's important we know the course heading that leads to Terra!" "Captain, I'm doing you a favor by not giving you any clues on how to get to Terra. You'll thank me for that later. For now, my first concern is making sure we're not being tracked and the sooner this homing transmitter that helped guide this ship to Paradeen is destroyed, the safer all of us be." "Tracked by who?" "The Eastern Alliance," Michael said simply, "I'll be happy to explain more about them later." "Cassiopeia, don't let him destroy those coordinates!" "She can't do anything about it, Captain. It's all being done on the surface. I wouldn't argue this point any longer, because it's a closed subject. Signing off for now." He switched off the transmitter and began to make his way toward the other support chambers. "Michael," Cassiopeia asked with befuddlement, "Just who or what is this.....Alliance?" He smiled mirthlessly and shook his head, "Later." The sleek destroyer craft built in the contours suggesting a predatory animal, was a ship designed to strike terror into the hearts of those who saw it. Not because of its mere firepower capacity, but because inside was the most ruthlessly efficient crew known to anyone in this part of space. The captain of the destroyer, Commandant Leiter, found his day like most others, beginning with a methodical inspection to insure that all of those in his command were operating at nothing less than peak efficiency. The slightest sign of weakness or slackening would always bring from him the lash of the whip on their shoulders, and with it, a punishment on the record that would all but close their hopes for advancement in rank. But in the three years that Leiter had captained this destroyer, he had never been forced to use the lash once. His crew was that efficiently trained, and any weak-minded ones had long since been rooted out before they ever could have been assigned to his crew. As he reached the end of the bridge, he saw the rigid figure of his executive officer standing at attention. The black shield of his helmet visor concealing his eyes in accordance with Alliance regulations. "Commandant?" "Yes, Krebs?" "We have a fix on the shuttle that escaped from Lunar Seven last month." "Ah yes," Leiter nodded, "Destroyer Two sent me a report on that. A farmer, some children, a young girl. Not regarded as important as the one-man craft that escaped at the same time. That had the Nationalists best operative on board." "The shuttle is within 100,000 kilometers of us, headed for the planet Paradeen." Leiter came over to the navigation console, looked at it and shook his head, "That's too far away to deal with a trifle like some small children. Now if it were the other ship, that would be another matter. There is a bounty of one hundred thousand credits for the commander that can personally apprehend this......Colonel Watts, I believe his name is. Our Supreme Leader is most anxious to make sure he doesn't end up anywhere near the vicinity of Terra anytime soon." he straightened himself, "We'll complete our normal patrol sweep first, and then come back to deal with these miscreants on our return trip to Lunar Seven." "There is one other thing, Commandant," Krebs said, "Two other ships are accompanying this shuttle. Neither however matches the configuration of the one-man craft that also escaped." "Oh?" Leiter raised an eyebrow, which only increased the streak of cruelness in his face. "What kind of ships?" "They are difficult to describe. We have them on visual telemetry." The commander came over to the monitor and looked at the signal that displayed the two viper craft. "Can you identify them?" "No sir. I have never seen flying craft remotely similar to these. The Analyzer can not compute their power function." "What are you talking about?" his frown deepened. "They are not using a source of power familiar to the computer." "This is impossible," Leiter shook his head, "If ships like this are in the Nationalists hands, then this changes everything!" Without waiting for a response from the executive officer, he marched toward the rear of the bridge and the helmsman's station. "Plot new course for the planet Paradeen at Star speed! And give me an immediate ETA on when we can be there." The helmsman nodded and made the computation, "We can be there in two days, Commandant." Leiter nodded and then went back to the front of the bridge to take another look at the two spacecraft that represented the greatest enigma he'd ever seen in all his years of service. "I'm beginning to get the feeling this isn't going to turn out the way we hoped," Starbuck said as he saw the green form of Paradeen loom closer. "If Michael doesn't help us figure out where Terra's course heading is, then how in Hades can we ever figure out if we've discovered the Thirteenth Tribe or not?" "Then we'll just have to change his mind about that," Apollo was trying not to seethe, "We've shown all kinds of deference to him up to this point just to get him back on course to this planet, and now it's time we get something in return." "Great, now you're starting to sound just like one of the Council members." Apollo cocked his helmet so he could glance over at Starbuck's viper, "Not funny, Starbuck." "Who's being funny?" his friend retorted, "You want my opinion, Apollo, I don't think we're going to get what we came for out of this." "We'll see," he checked his chronometer, "We only used up fifteen centars to get to this place. That gives us forty-five centars to work with before we have to leave to catch up with the Fleet. Fifteen centars at reduced speed means only a two centar return trip at full thrusters." "Apollo?" Starbuck's tone now grew more serious, "Check your scanner. I think I caught a blip on the edge of rear scan." Apollo readjusted his instruments, "Looks clear to me." "It was only there for a micron or two. I'm not sure, but......" "If you're not sure, maybe it wasn't anything at all," Apollo said, "We certainly don't have time to investigate it. We have to follow them in and get those answers we need, fast!" Starbuck felt his protest die on the tip of his tongue as he reluctantly took position behind Apollo, who was following the shuttle into the atmosphere of Paradeen. "Atmosphere checks out to the one-fifth reading we figured on," Apollo said, "Vegetation looks good. Scanner reads signs of industrial settlements that seem.....to be abandoned." "Not quite," Starbuck said, "Look below. That looks like a functioning aerodrome." Apollo glanced down and through the cloudless night sky, he could see the unmistakable sight of runway lights. For only a brief instant, it gave him a mental flashback to life in the Colonies, when such sights were familiar whenever one traveled from planet to planet. "Okay, he's headed in. I guess we follow." Five centons later, the two vipers pulled to a stop at the end of the main runway of the facility. The shuttle was already in a parked position by a hangar, and the warriors could see Michael, Sarah and Cassiopeia standing outside. "Wonder what they're waiting for," Starbuck said over his radio one last time before taking off his helmet. As soon as he and Apollo dropped to the ground though, they noticed a vehicle moving across the surface toward them. In the glare of the lights, Apollo could make out two figures operating the vehicle, but little else. As it drew closer though, he could see pasty-white faces covered by round helmets, and his eyes widened. "Either those two haven't been out in the sun in fifty yahrens, or else they're not human!" Starbuck said. "I'm hoping it's the latter," Apollo said as they made their way over to where Michael, Sarah and Cassiopeia waited. As the ground vehicle came to a stop, the two figures got out and Apollo noticed that Michael seemed to be just as perplexed by the sight of them as he and Starbuck were. "Hello," the one on the right said brightly. His voice a mixture of normal human speech and a mechanical edge that to Starbuck would have been halfway between a Cylon centurion's monotonic drone and that of the more advanced ones that spoke normally like Baltar's subordinate, Lucifer. "Hello," Michael had his hands on his hips, "Who are you?" "I'm Vector!" he then motioned to the one on his right, "And this is my son." "Hector!" the other said in a higher pitched voice. The sound of the voices already made Cassiopeia and Sarah want to break out laughing. "All right," Michael said, "You...you work for Sarah's father?" "Of course!" Vector said, "All of the information dealing with your arrival was fully programmed to us long ago. It has been our pleasure to serve Master Russell for as long as we have!" "Father, look! The children are much older than we were led to believe!" Hector pointed at Apollo and Starbuck, who were too dubious to be amused. Vector turned and glared at him, "You half-witted fugitive from the plastics factory! Even you can tell that these are not children. Didn't I make sure the first thing to give you was a brain with which to think?" "But Father, who are they then?" "Yes, that is a good question. If they are ones we did not expect, then----," he suddenly pulled out a small firearm. "Ah, ah!" Starbuck protested, "We're friends. We....just came along for the ride." "That's right," Michael spoke up, "They'll be our guests for the time being. The children are still inside the shuttle coming out of their sleep modes." "My apologies," Vector bowed and replaced the firearm. "Vector," Michael said, "Since when did it become normal for androids like you to be armed?" "Oh don't be alarmed, Master Michael," Vector said apologetically, "Master Russell saw to it we be armed once the hostilities broke out." "Hostilities?" Sarah asked with concern. "Where is my father, anyway?" "The hostilities are over now," Vector said, "I think we should get back to the ranch as soon as possible. The temperature drops most rapidly at night." "And my father?" Sarah repeated, "Is he there?" There was only the faintest hesitation in Vector's voice, "Yes." "Good," she brightened, "I'll get the children." As Sarah went back inside the shuttle, Apollo decided it was time to press for information. "This....Paradeen. Whose colony is it?" "Why Terra's of course," Hector said. "But who are you not to know that?" "Be civil, Hector, or I'll break you down into spare parts!" the older robot scolded. "But Father, our programming did not deal with guests. If that's what they are." The silvery eyebrows of Vector's white face went up, "For once you are correct, Hector! It is good to show such courage at times such as these. But we'll sort this all out, back at the ranch." The two of them turned and moved back to the ground vehicle in a shuffling manner that only made them seem more comical then they already were. The two warriors found themselves shaking their heads in disbelief. "I just had a horrible thought go through my head," Starbuck said. "Yeah?" the black-haired captain glanced at him. "If Wilker had come with us on this trip, he'd be drawing up plans to copy their circuits to create duplicates for the Fleet." Apollo contemplated that for an instant and then nodded, "You're right, that *is* a horrible thought." Two ground vehicles, each manned by one of the robots, took them on a journey that lasted ten centons before coming to a stop in front of a well-lit complex consisting of several one-story buildings. Apollo placed a guess that this kind of agro-dwelling would have correlated to that of a rich Caprican sometime in the fifth or early sixth millennia, nearly one thousand yahrens ago. The three children were the first to jump out of the ground vehicle. The older girl seemed the most delighted, "Is this our new home?" "Yes," Sarah smiled brightly and then motioned to the two smaller children, "Let's see what your grandfather has waiting for us!" "Miss Sarah!" Vector called out. But she and the three children had disappeared inside the main building, with Cassiopeia behind them. "It looks nice," Apollo was impressed. In another time, before the Destruction, this would have been the ideal kind of place to find escape from the bustle of Caprica City. "Sarah's father built this?" "Master Russell started it. My father and I finished it," Hector said. "Oh?" Apollo found the robot's comment odd. But before he could follow up, Sarah had dashed out of the house with a look of concern on her face. "Michael, I can't find my father!" Michael turned to the two robots with a raised eyebrow, "Why isn't he here, Vector?" Uneasy looks seemed to come over their faces. "Father-," Hector began, "Maybe we should----," "Yes," Vector sighed, "It would be heartless to keep evading the matter forever. Miss Sarah....he is....over there." He motioned to a fenced area some fifty feet from the main house. Sarah dashed over, and already everyone else knew what it meant. She entered the fenced area and collapsed in sobs as she saw what even Apollo knew was a gravestone marker. Inscribed on it was the name: "JOHN RUSSELL TOWER." "Damn it all!" she screamed, "Why does this madness go on? Nothing but endless death? No freedom to just enjoy life!" Michael placed a hand on her shoulder, but she seemed oblivious to his touch. Still sobbing, she bolted to her feet and dashed back into the main house. "You should have been more direct, Vector," Michael could think of nothing else to say. "We are both sorry, Master Michael," the older robot said, "It's just....we are programmed to make life happier and easier for those we serve. Dealing with such....pain is another thing entirely." "Of course." "In spite of this....unfortunate circumstance, I am sure we can provide for Sarah and her children, a happy life." "A little lonely, maybe," Hector said. "Hush up, Hector!" he turned back to Michael, "He's just sore because I didn't build him any brothers or sisters." Michael rolled his eyes slightly. "Actually it would have been nicer if you'd built me a woman." "If I'd wanted to build a woman, do you think I'd build one for you before building one for myself?" "All right, all right!" Michael threw up his arms in exasperation. "Will the two of you knock it off?" Thank you, Apollo and Starbuck both said to themselves. "My apologies, Master Michael," Vector bowed humbly, "As I said.....we are not suitably programmed to deal with....tragedy." "Of course," he mumbled. "In the meantime, it's best we all retreat inside before you humans freeze to death. Come!" The three men followed the two robots inside and immediately, Apollo was impressed by the spacious comfort that existed inside. The three children were all happily moving about from room to room, as Cassiopeia unsuccessfully tried to keep them in tow. "Come on children, that's enough," Michael said forcefully, which immediately got them to stop running. "Cassiopeia, get them something to eat. Maybe that'll calm them down." "I'll help you, Cass," Starbuck followed them out into the next room, the compartment door closing behind them. Michael looked over and could see Sarah sitting passively on the edge of the bed in her living quarters. He thought of moving over there first, but decided to stay in the living room. "I ah....must apologize for the children. They've been asleep since the beginning of the journey and probably will be up all night." "Look, I've got a son myself and I know all about how precocious kids can get," Apollo said, "Just let them do what they want for now." "Oh, I didn't know you had children, Apollo," Michael said as he sat down in a comfortable looking chair. "Just one son. He'll be seven pretty soon." "I see," Michael nodded, "You plan on having more?" Apollo now wished the subject hadn't come up. "Ah....not right now." he said delicately as he sat down across from Michael and then looked up at Hector so he could change the subject, "Ah....Hector? Is there anything to drink? I could really use one." "Of course. I will see to it!" The younger robot began to move toward the compartment where Starbuck, Cassiopeia and the children had disappeared. "Ah, ah, Hector! First things first! We must give the family a proper coming home present." "What?" Michael frowned. "It belonged to Sarah's father," Vector held open an album. Inside was a shiny disc. "His most cherished possession of the glory days of Terra, passed on by his father and grandfathers before!" "No!" Michael and Apollo looked up and saw Sarah standing in the doorway. A cold expression on her face. "I know what that is," Sarah said, "And I don't want to see it, or to have the children see it. I don't ever want them to see pictures of Terra and grow up with false hopes about a planet they can never visit." "I'm afraid, Sarah's right," Michael said gently, "Vector, I know you meant well, but....on Lunar Seven we've always kept the children isolated from pictures or video images of Terra because they can never go there. Just like Sarah and I can't." "Pressurization," Sarah said contemptuously, "Another fine contribution of technology and science and how they've ruined our ability to live normal lives." A dark expression came over Michael's face as he came up to her. "Sarah," he was trying to hold back his anger, "I think it's about time you stop blaming technology for all of mankind's sins. Technology didn't create the war or create the food shortages on Terra that led to settlements to begin with! It's what we *did* with those tools." "But developing the capacity to live on planetoids with lower atmospheric pressures made it easy to find that kind of a barbaric solution to Terra's problems." Sarah held her ground. "Instead of using technology to come up with a more humane solution." "It's not barbaric to make use of planetoids that had food resources! All that was needed was wiser leadership made aware of the side-effects so that they were manned by workers in rotation, not permanent settlers!" He turned back to Vector, "Don't destroy that disc, Vector. Some time, I will want my daughter to see it. I at least, don't keep her completely sheltered from learning about Terra's history the way Sarah does with her children." "With her children?" Apollo frowned, "I thought you and Sarah were ah....." he trailed off and found himself blushing in embarrassment over his mistaken assumption. "No," Michael shook his head, "Jillian, the older girl, is my daughter. The two small ones are Sarah's children. We're nothing more than professional colleagues on Lunar Seven who needed to band together to get off that hellhole." "My husband was a farmer who died three years ago." she glared at him, "I wouldn't marry a technocrat like Michael if he was the last man in the world. I only needed him because he knew how to program a ship that could get my children away to safety." "Okay, okay," Apollo held up his hands, "I get the picture. But....now that I'm finding out some more things about the two of you, what's say we take some time to exchange some more information? Because that's really the reason why Starbuck and Cassiopeia and I accompanied you here. To find out what we didn't have time to ask you back on our ship." Michael nodded, "Okay, Apollo. I guess we owe you that. Hector, Vector, bring us some drinks and make sure the children stay occupied while we talk with Apollo." "The three ships have landed on Paradeen, Commandant," Krebs said. "But the homing signal has now stopped. It will take some time to pinpoint their exact location upon reaching the planet." Leiter paced back and forth, pondering what to do next. "Krebs, how long would it take a signal to reach Alliance Headquarters on Terra?" "Two months at least, Commandant. We are that far out." "What about using the light-wave relay station on Lunar Seven?" "The station was knocked out by sabotage last month just before this shuttle escaped, Commandant. The work of that....Colonel Watts. Repairs were not expected to be complete for another five weeks." "The incompetents!" Leiter slammed his black-gloved fist against the railing. "No wonder Destroyer two hasn't been able to find them. Very well, there will be no signal. We will land on Paradeen and take care of these traitors ourselves and see to it that nothing is left alive!" "Commandant, we have caught one lucky break. The gravitational slingshot has increased our speed. ETA is now only twenty four hours." "Good! The sooner we deal with this, the better!" ".......Six months ago, Sarah came to me begging for a way to get her and her children off Lunar Seven, and to Paradeen where her father had escaped some time earlier." Michael was saying. "As a technocrat, I knew how to program a flight path into a long-range shuttle that could take us there safely, even though my own flying skills are very....rudimentary at best. Sufficient only for take-off and landing, but with the necessary programming, that was all. And since I was anxious to get myself and Jillian off Lunar Seven as well, we knew that working together was the best solution." "Okay, I understand that," Apollo said as he sipped his second drink, "But what made Lunar Seven so unhabitable for you?" "The Alliance came in a year ago and decimated the place. The entire government infrastructure was wiped out. Scores of men, women and children slaughtered who were deemed non-essential personnel by the dictates of the Alliance. People like Sarah and me were kept alive only to serve the interests of the Alliance, and we were treated like.....well like slaves. No freedom to move about or do anything without being under the Alliance's eye." "You still haven't explained what this Alliance is," Starbuck, who had returned to the room a few centons before, interjected. "They represent the enemy we've fought in Terra's great civil war for.....it seems like an eternity now." Michael took a breath, "Terra was a planet of many nations but over time the nations came down to two alliances representing competing philosophies. The Nationalists represented the West. Committed to principles of individual liberty and freedom within a democratic order. The East formed themselves into an Alliance devoted to the principle of supremacy of the state, and regimented equality. And in order to force this supposedly more equal view of society than the Western vision, it required the creation of a military force so strong and ruthless, that anyone who tried to stand up to it within the Alliance's domain was simply crushed underfoot." "So the Nationalists lost the war," Apollo said. "No," Michael shook his head, "The war continues, as it has for so long. But in recent years the tide has turned more in favor of the Alliance because.....well because there's been a failure in leadership in the West. The West has had a string of leaders who have spent less on resources needed to match the Alliance's military strength, and to offer needed protection for our satellite planets. They've all become.....afraid that to challenge the Alliance too harshly will lead to the destruction of what remains of the heart of civilization on Terra. That in order to avoid the ultimate conflict that could result in the destruction of all of Terra itself, the Alliance must be.....appeased." "Why does that sound familiar to me?" Apollo said aloud, "Leaders thinking that a worthless form of peace is preferable to standing up and fighting for what's right." "Right," Starbuck acknowledged. "And things have reached a point where we know the Alliance is close to the final triumph," Michael said, "That other man, I mentioned. Colonel Watts. He was a spy sent out by a faction of the Nationalist government to investigate what was happening on the satellite planets. When I met him, I found out that the Nationalist President has been lying to the people about these slaughters carried out by the Alliance so as not to let that interfere with his idea of achieving some kind of peace treaty that supposedly would end the war. He planned on reporting what he saw on Lunar Seven and the other satellites to some people in the Nationalist government who hope to oust the President from power and prevent him from selling out the rest of Terra to the Alliance." "Do you know if he made it or not?" Apollo asked. "I have no idea. We parted company the night he helped make it possible for Sarah and me to get off Lunar Seven. Knowing how resourceful he can be though, I have a feeling that he's succeeded in his mission. But as for getting the Nationalists to take necessary action, that's another matter. If Sarah or I had any faith the tide could be turned, we might have braved it out, but in light of all else that's happened, we decided not to. That our best chance lay here on Paradeen, which the Alliance previously destroyed in a mass slaughter a year and a half ago." "Okay," Apollo noticed how Michael kept using the more obscure term for "yahren" that he could only remember elderly Gemonese people uttering. "You've explained to me that Terra has a lot of problems and difficulties. But regardless of that, Michael, we still need to get the coordinates that lead back there. And now that you've had that homing transmitter destroyed, you've got to help us find an alternate source that can tell us which heading it lies on." "Apollo," Michael got to his feet, "I don't understand this obsession with wanting to know where Terra is. After what I've told you, you ought to be grateful for the warning I've given you and find another place for your people to go to." he then frowned, "Which I guess is a good time for me to ask why your people are traveling through space to begin with." "Okay," Apollo sighed, "I guess now it's my turn to monopolize the conversation." "Some more drinks, Hector!" Starbuck raised his empty glass as he settled back in his chair. Sarah hadn't bothered to stay once Michael began his retelling of how they had made their escape from Lunar Seven. Instead, she'd retreated to her bedroom to brood. Brood over the loss of her father, and brood over what she now regarded as a future less palatable than it had seemed like before. The thought that Michael and two dim-witted robots would be the only adult companionship she'd now know on this planet almost seemed as bad a prospect as life on Lunar Seven had seemed like. For almost an hour she lay in bed, pondering the unfairness of it all. Wondering if there could be a way out of this painful dilemma. And always....she found herself coming back to what seemed like the only possible solution. But could she summon the strength to act on that impulse? Finally, Sarah rose from her bed, cracked open the window that led outside, and quietly stepped out into the night. As Apollo continued to talk, with occasional interjections from Starbuck, Michael found himself utterly transfixed, slouching lower into his chair but never taking his eyes off Apollo, showing how he was absorbing every word. And soon it became clear that even Hector and Vector found themselves fascinated. "Is that really true, Apollo?" Hector asked, "You've been fighting a war against....machines?" Apollo smiled and shook his head, "Machines totally unlike either of you, Hector. The race that built them didn't have the sense to see to it they were programmed for more constructive purposes." Vector seemed indignant, "That is exactly the problem when machines are built with no brains, no heart, no----," "Oh, you're always talking about brains and heart and courage!" Hector cut him off, "Is that all you ever think about?" "Those are the most essential things in all creatures, you defective scrap-heap! And someday I'll tell you a story I'm well familiar with about how------," "We'll save that story for another time, Vector," Michael gently interrupted. "But getting back to this journey of yours, Apollo. You say you're trying to find a brother tribe that you think could be the people who first settled Terra?" "Yes, that's what I'm saying," Apollo said, feeling that he was getting closer to finding what he needed to know. "What do your people know of how Terra was first settled? Or how life began on Terra?" Michael shook his head. "I can't help you there." "Why not?" "Because I don't know the answer to that, Apollo. And probably next to no one in all of Terran civilization knows either." "But how can that be?" Starbuck spoke up, "I mean, every civilization has a history to teach its people about how they began. Don't they teach it at all on Terra?" "I can only say this from second-hand knowledge, told to me over the years by native Terrans," Michael said, "The origins of how life began on Terra are supposedly known to only a select few of the political and religious hierarchy. Not to be revealed to us until.....some distant day in the future, if at all." "Why?" "We don't know. And.....it's something that's always been accepted because frankly, it never seemed to matter. Why bother focusing on the past when the present is so bad and the future seems so bleak?" Apollo brought his hands together, frustrated by this sudden dead end. He knew he had to try another approach. "Okay, Michael. Let me ask this. Do your people ever use the term 'Earth' to refer to Terra?" "'Earth'?" Michael lifted an eyebrow, "Why is that important?" "Because in our culture the name Terra is sometimes used for Earth, and Earth is the name of the planet our ancient writings tell us this brother tribe we seek was headed for." "I see," he paused, "Well, the term is familiar. Some of the older generations were known to use it as a term for Terra. But the term is also used to refer to the soil or other planetoids in the galaxy that we've settled. For most of us though, it's a term that seems....arcane." "Maybe because it just became forgotten over time?" Starbuck pressed. "And that maybe the answer really does lie in those secret documents on Terra you refer to?" "That's all speculation, Starbuck. You're asking the wrong person for help on that." "Oh, how I *wish* our databases were more thorough!" Vector whined in frustration. "Even I never encountered a fellow android who knew more than the last five hundred years worth of Terran civilization!" "Okay, this isn't getting us anywhere," Apollo said, feeling his frustration mount. "If you can't help us with what you know about Terra's past, then at least if you let us find out what course she lies on, we can at least know whether or not we're even on the right track to begin with." "What does the course heading have to do with it?" "Because we already know that Earth lies on one particular heading in the galaxy. The exact location is unknown to us, but we know that if we keep following the heading, we'll find it eventually. If we saw a chart to compare with our own charts we'd at least know if Terra lies on the right coordinates for us to believe is Earth." "I see," Michael said, "And if you found out that Terra didn't lie on the right coordinates?" The Galactica warrior exhaled, "Then....we'd have to do some serious soul-searching about where our future options lie. But that decision, Michael, ultimately rests with our leadership. And in order to make that decision, we have to have the answers to these questions. That's why it was important to us that you not have that homing transmission back to Lunar Seven destroyed." "Knowing the way back to Lunar Seven wouldn't have helped you pinpoint Terra's location, which it's clear is your bigger concern," Michael said. "As for information about where Terra lies.....if I could help you with that, I would." "What about records or documents? Isn't there some place on this planet where things like that would have been kept?" "Oh my goodness!" Vector suddenly put his hand to his face. "Yes, Vector?" Michael looked at the two robots. "The Archives! There *is* such a place where such things might still exist. The Archives underneath the ruins of the city!" "City?" Apollo came up in his chair. "Where?" "Yes, where?" Michael looked thunderstruck. "I never knew about any city here on Paradeen. I thought it was just a farming community." "Oh no, Master Michael, not at all!" Hector said. "Paradeen had a thriving city about oh....some twenty kilometers from here." "Apollo!" Starbuck came up, "That's what we scanned before we landed, remember? Signs of abandoned technology!" "You're right!" Apollo felt like slapping his hand against his forehead. "I don't know why we didn't think about that before." "The buildings are all still intact," Hector said, "We were over there recently to find things that helped us finish building this complex. They're still as good as new." "Good as new but no people left," Apollo glanced at his fellow warrior, "What does that sound like to you, Starbuck?" "What do you think?" the blonde lieutenant grimaced, "Neutron weaponry or bacteriological strikes. This Alliance sounds like they're all comprised of men just like Baltar." "Which means they probably plan on coming back here after they win this war they're fighting with the Nationalists." "Oh my God," Michael said in horror, "And if what Watts told me was true about what was happening back on Terra, that could come sooner rather than later." "Who says this Alliance is gonna win?" Starbuck felt some of his old bravado coming back. "They've never seen a battlestar before. And I haven't seen anything in the technology here that even comes close to what our civilization's developed." "You'd have to be pretty powerful to beat the Alliance." "We're not so bad," Starbuck shrugged, "Okay, maybe we've lost a few battles of our own, but not against something with technology like what Vector's carrying in his pocket." "I'll have you know that this is the most thoroughly advanced gun in all of Terran society!" the older robot pulled it out. "Yeah, but ah, do you think maybe it could compare to one of.....", Starbuck then detached his own laser pistol, "These?" "My goodness!" Hector's eyebrows went up. "That's twice as big as yours!" "Look, forget about that," Apollo said, wishing he could keep the robots quiet. "First thing when it's dawn, Starbuck, you and.....Hector go into this city and investigate. Try to find where the archives are located and retrieve what you can that can help us pinpoint Terra's location. That's our biggest priority." He stretched his arms out, "Right now, I could use a few centars sleep." "Apollo, what's a centar?" Michael asked. The Galactica stared at him slightly and shook his head, "Never mind. Just make sure we're awake at dawn. We've got a big day ahead of us." Chapter Six When Apollo came to, the first thing he noticed was the sunlight streaming through the window of his dwelling. The next thing he noticed was the distinct smell of a morning meal being prepared. In an instant, he felt a flood of memories coming back. Memories of waking up in his own room on Caprica to the sunlight, and the smell of his mother's cooking to start the day before going off with Athena and Zac by hoverbus to school. As he came upright on the bed, he found his mind trying to linger on each of those memories, as if to remind himself that they really had happened at one time in his life and were not part of some distant and forgotten dream. Will any of us ever know what it's like to live this way again? He thought as he reluctantly let his mind return to the present and grabbed his jacket from the chair he'd set it upon before going to bed. He put it on and entered the main living room, but saw no one there. "Hello?" he called out. "In here, Apollo." he heard Sarah's voice from the next room. Apollo entered and saw the attractive blonde woman seated alone at a dining table. Her meal only half-finished, and a somewhat tense expression on her face. "Good morning," Apollo said, "Where's everyone else?" "Cassiopeia and the children are outside. Michael's making a study of the complex." "And Starbuck?" "He and Hector left a little while ago. They didn't tell me where they went." "Well that means they didn't waste time getting started," Apollo sat down at the table, "Anything left for me to eat?" "Sure. Vector prepared a delicious meal," she cocked her head toward the adjacent kitchen area, "Vector, you can bring Apollo's breakfast out." The older robot then emerged carrying a plate, "I *do* hope you enjoy it, Captain. I have always considered myself quite an expert in the culinary arts, even though it is beyond my ability to enjoy the taste of such delicacies myself!" He set the plate down and Apollo took a moment to study what looked to be generous portions of grilled white meat and what he was certain were poulon eggs whipped and scrambled.. The captain gently cut his meat into several bites, then sampled one along with a bite of egg. "Well?" Vector seemed anxious. Apollo smiled in deep satisfaction, "Vector, this is the best meal I've had in quite some time. I'd gladly hire you to replace the cook on our ship in an instant." "You are most kind," he bowed, "If there is anything else, do not hesitate to call." Once Vector had gone, Sarah carefully brought her hands together and focused her gaze on Apollo, who continued to attack his meal with eagerness. "So what do you think of this place, Apollo?" The captain didn't look up as he ate several more bites, "Vector and Hector have prepared a really special place for you and the children, Sarah. You're quite lucky." "Do you wish you could have a place like this?" Apollo stopped eating and looked at her with a quizzical air. "Well.....yes. I think just about all of our people would love to have a place like this if it were possible." "Then why not stay with us?" Sarah summoned all her inner strength to say the words. "I know I could make you feel very happy here." The captain set his utensil down, his expression stoic. "Sarah, you know that's not possible." "Why not?" an almost pleading edge seemed to creep into her voice. "Well for one thing, this planet's not habitable for people like me, or Starbuck or Cassiopeia. We have to take oxygen every so often because the air's too thin for us." "We have plenty of that on hand. Enough to compensate for that." Apollo wondered if she was serious or playing a joke on him. "Look, ah, Sarah," he chuckled uneasily, "I don't think you quite understand......" "Do I?" she softly interrupted. "All I know is that I *need* someone like you to stay here. Someone to keep me from being lonely." "You're not alone," Apollo now realized he was dealing with a totally unforseen complication. "You have the children, you have Michael, you have Vector and Hector...." "I'm talking about meaningful companionship. Michael couldn't give me that in a million years. But you, Apollo. You're.....different. I've seen how gentle and compassionate you are. How much you care about our people and our plight. And.....you have noticed me, haven't you?" Apollo pushed his plate aside, his appetite suddenly gone. "I think you're a very attractive woman, Sarah, but I haven't felt anything special for you. I like you as a friend, but I am not in love with you." "You could learn to do that in time," Sarah was pleading even more, "Especially when you see what I can do for you." The captain lowered his head, wondering why he'd been put into this kind of situation. It had taken him so long to bury the memory of a woman named Vella on a planet called Equellas, and the agonizing temptation he'd felt to stay with her and forget all about his life back in the Fleet. An experience so painful to him that he'd never talked about it to a living soul. Now, here was a situation almost identical to that one, and he knew he had to keep himself from being tempted for just one micron. "Sarah," he avoided looking at her, "For your sake, will you drop this before it gets out of hand?" "Apollo, don't you understand?" Sarah's voice started to crack, "I *need* you." "It isn't me you need, it's an alternative to Michael because you hate what he does for a living," Apollo decided he was going to have to be blunt. "I can't fill that role for you, Sarah." "Why not?" her voice was a whisper now. "This place has all you could ask for. And I could....give you all you need for companionship. If you'd just give me a chance." "Did it ever occur to you I have other responsibilities waiting for me back aboard the Galactica?" Apollo didn't know whether to be mad at her or to have pity for her. "I happen to have a little boy, who isn't any older than your kids are, waiting for me back home." Sarah stiffened in her chair, clearly stunned by this revelation. "You mean.....you're married?" "My wife is dead," Apollo said, "It's just my son, Boxey, and me." "Okay," Sarah had the look of someone who felt ill, "Okay. Maybe you could make arrangements to bring him here, and......." "It isn't just Boxey," Apollo pressed forward. "My father, my sister, other people I......" he faltered for a brief instant as a picture of Sheba suddenly popped into his head, "care about. My life is back there, Sarah. I'm sorry life's dealt you a bad hand with your father's death, and that you can't stand Michael, but you have to take a step back and think about the things in life to be grateful for. You made it off that prison on Lunar Seven and freed your children from living in slavery under this Eastern Alliance. Start with that, and build from there." he paused, "Maybe in time you'll realize Michael isn't so bad after all." Sarah lowered her head and Apollo could see tears welling up in her eyes. Apollo reached out and grabbed her arm. "Look," he tried to sound more gentle, "I'm sorry I hurt you. I just.....I can't let myself be tempted. I've been through an experience like this once before, where I found myself on a planet where I met a nice woman who could have given me a life of total happiness if I'd been willing to forget about my son and the people back home who matter most to me. And....after that experience, I promised myself to never let that temptation hit me again for even an instant." Sarah shook her head slightly, seemingly too ashamed to look at him. "Apollo," she whimpered, "I.....did something horrible last night while you and.....Michael were talking." Apollo let go of her arm, "What are you talking about?" "I.....wanted to make sure there'd be no doubt about your staying no matter how you felt at first about the idea. So I.....I went back to the skyport and......." "And what?" he felt an alarm bell going off inside him. "What did you do?" She lifted her head and through her tears looked him in the eye, "I.....destroyed your ships." Apollo looked as if he'd been hit in the jaw. He said nothing as he slowly got to his feet, staring at her in dumbfounded disbelief. "Apollo, please," she whimpered, "I.....felt so upset last night after Michael and I quarreled and I remembered why I couldn't stand him to begin with. And....I just felt this need for you and Starbuck to stay, and that if you couldn't go back, you'd......" "I don't believe this," he looked up at the ceiling , feeling more angry at Fate than at her, "Why in the name of Kobol do things like this always happen to me?" Then, he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Sarah alone to sob quietly in regret and shame. When Starbuck had left with Hector in the hovervehicle earlier in the morning, the blonde warrior wondered if spending time alone with the robot was going to put his sanity at risk. Before they'd left, he'd merely said, "Hit it," to signal him to start driving, and Hector had responded by banging his hands against the wheel. It had been enough to make Starbuck do what for him was the unthinkable, by making him actually yearn for a computer named CORA. As they approached the location of the mysterious city though, he'd found those thoughts evaporating since Hector, unlike CORA, didn't bother to show off or belabor him with a litany about what he was capable of doing. For all his silly quirks, which were likely the result of having been built by another robot, Hector was still a compliant robot who knew his first duty was always to serve. When Starbuck saw the buildings on the horizon, his mouth fell open in amazement. Elaborately constructed glass-dome and multi-level concrete structures stretched for as far as the eye could see, suggesting a grandeur worthy of even Colonial architecture. "Incredible," he managed to mouth as Hector brought the hovercraft to a stop just at the point where the city limits ended and the open fields began. "I know this city well," Hector said as he and Starbuck stepped out, "It was very beautiful, once upon a time." "Still is," the warrior said as they made their way forward, past the first row of buildings, and down a path that seemed like an avenue throughway. "Not quite," Hector pointed to the domed structure at the center, "Time does take its toll." Starbuck squinted and could see that while the dome still looked formidable, many of the glass windows were now broken. "Yeah, but even with that, it's still beautiful." "I'm thinking more of the old days," Hector said as they continued to walk, "When there were children laughing and playing. The sounds of music. Men and women learning science. Vector says this was as fine as any city on Terra." "Cities on Terra are just like this, then," Starbuck digested that information, "In a way, that's hopeful." "Not given the present state of the war, as you heard Master Michael explain last night," Hector led Starbuck up a stairway that entered the glass dome at it's midpoint. Now, they walked down a corridor lining the dome that was littered with mounds of debris. "So long as it continues, cities like this one, even on Terra, face the same possible fate." "Madness," Starbuck shook his head. "You're so right," Hector said as they emerged on walkway overlooking the entire area of the dome's interior. "The sheer waste of it all. Why can't man get along with man?" Starbuck stopped for an instant as he realized the strange irony of Hector's question. He came from a society and a civilization that had not had to ponder that question for millennia. Especially not during the last thousand yahrens with the war against the Cylons. Which only proved the point that even in a unified society that had resolved that question, there was no guarantee man had done all that was necessary to insure a golden age. "That Hector," he finally said as they resumed walking, "Is a question really worth pondering for this civilization." "I know," the younger robot said as they descended a winding stair ramp that led to the bottom level of the dome's open rotunda. "I have asked it of Vector many times. And Master Russell too, before he left us. They both tried to explain it to me, but....I guess I am a little slow." Starbuck glanced at Hector and smiled, "You and your father do make an interesting pair. For androids patterned in man's image, I'm not so sure you didn't get the best end of the deal." "I consider that a compliment," Hector returned the smile as they went through a smashed exit door on the rotunda's ground level, which they saw led out a new main avenue. Bushes and small trees now grew among the cracks of the stairways and streets, indicating it had been quite some time since they'd been last attended to. "Look at that," Starbuck stopped as he saw another dome-like structure up ahead. This one even more impressive than the one they'd just exited. "That building seems significant." Hector stopped and trained his eyes on it, "Oh! Oh yes, that does look familiar. That is.....yes, that must be it!" "Must be what?" "The capitol of course! The administrative center of the city." "Then that has to be the place that leads to the Archives. Come on, let's check that out." As they drew closer to the building, Starbuck found that he'd actually enjoyed talking aloud with Hector about deeper questions. He decided it was okay to continue before they got insider. "There's one question even I've never been able to understand." "What's that, Starbuck?" "Well, we as men have the intelligence and the skills to provide just about everything our brothers need, as well as provide for their defense against a common enemy...." "Yes!" Hector cut in, "You humans are very resourceful. I believe you can do anything you set out to do in all the stars." "The question is, why don't we? The humans of Terra fight each other, and my people couldn't stay strong enough as a unified culture against an enemy seeking to destroy all mankind." "You're asking me? Why on Terra, I doubt I'd be given a license to operate. I'm just a collage of....spare parts." Starbuck smiled wryly, thinking it remarkable to see this kind of humility in a robot that was so refreshingly different from the arrogance he'd seen in so many Cylons. In particular, he found himself comparing Hector to Baltar's subordinate, Lucifer, whom he'd gotten to know during his time as a prisoner aboard the human traitor's baseship. With Lucifer, there was a sense of innate superiority that being a programmed machine represented the highest order of being in the universe. By contrast, Hector could never be accused of having an ego complex. "You know something, Hector?" the warrior said sincerely, "I could use a few like you." "To do what?" "Oh," Starbuck stopped and pondered that for a micron, "Probably put you on the Council of Twelve. Then we'd have political leaders who know how to react to logic for a change. Lord knows we've had our share of human leaders who seemed to forget all about that. Leaders who react instead from.....passion, jealousy and.....greed," he said the last word thinking of Baltar, who represented the ultimate example of human weakness and the capacity of human weakness to lead to destruction. "But....maybe it's just our lot in life for humans to keep going on doing the opposite of what's logical. And that our only chance for true peace comes in the life beyond." The door that led inside the more elegantly designed dome had long since fallen away, and they found themselves in a main gallery. At the back end of a wall, they could see what looked like a directory of sorts. "Let's see what that says," Starbuck pointed. They made their way over and the warrior scraped off a layer of dust and growth that had covered the metal plating. "Yes! Yes, that is the floor plan for this building!" Hector said excitedly. "Can you read all that? Most of the terminology there isn't familiar to me." The robot leaned forward and squinted. "Yes. Yes, the Archives are located in sub-level five." "Well then what are we waiting for? Let's head down there!" "Starbuck, that might pose a problem for you. At those sub-levels, which have largely remained sealed all these years since the city was destroyed, the death and decay has probably made the air totally unbreathable for you." "I'm not going to worry about that felgercarb," Starbuck said, oblivious to Hector's lack of familiarity with that term. "I came here to get records, and I can't let anything stop me at this point. It would be down that way, wouldn't it?" He pointed to a stairway shaft not far from the sign. "Yes, but----," "Then let's get moving, Hector," Starbuck moved off. "Starbuck, wait!" Hector warned, "Do not overexert yourself! This atmosphere is already a strain to you as it is!" Finally, the robot decided to stop warning him, and instead followed after him down the stairwell. Since he'd awaken, Leiter had found his sense of restlessness increasing. The sooner he could take some specific action, the better he'd feel. It had been too long for him since he'd last felt the pleasure of striking a blow on behalf of the Alliance, and he'd always been a firm believer in the idea that those who didn't find opportunities to discipline and exterminate traitors and miscreants, eventually grew too soft and ultimately became unfit to serve the Alliance. "Commandant," Krebs signaled, "We have Paradeen on visual. ETA in one hour." "Good," he felt the burning sense of anticipation rising, "Try to pinpoint the last known trajectory of those three ships, and when you have it, land us away from where they set down. I want this to be an unpleasant surprise for them." As soon as Apollo stepped outside the main house, he finally allowed his fury to explode as he slammed his fist against the side and said at the top of his voice, "Frack!" Michael, who had been attending to a small group of livestock fenced in at the other end of the complex, bolted up and came over to him. The expletive even brought a concerned Cassiopeia out from another building, where she'd been attending to the children. "Apollo?" Michael asked, "What's wrong?" "I'll tell you what's wrong!" he fumed, "I just found out from Sarah, that she personally sabotaged our ships!" "What?" Cassiopeia's eyes widened in shock. "You know something?" Apollo didn't feel like holding anything back, "I'm beginning to think maybe the Council had the right idea after all! All the sacrifice we put ourselves through, just to help you people, and *this* is the thanks we get in return." "Apollo, will you calm down?" Cassiopeia grabbed his arm, "You're acting totally irrational." "You go in there and talk to someone who's irrational!" he pointed inside. "I think I'd better," the med-tech glared at him, "But in the meantime, will you just calm yourself down?" Cassiopeia disappeared inside the main house, leaving Apollo alone with Michael. "Sarah destroyed your ships?" his voice was incredulous. "So she says," Apollo slowly exhaled, trying to calm down. "Because she wanted to force me to stay with her. It seems that the idea of you as her only male companion doesn't thrill her, so that's why she decides she has the right to force Starbuck and Cassiopeia and me to spend the rest of our lives here!" "Damn," Michael whispered as he lowered his head sadly, "Damn, I'm sorry, Apollo. If that's true, then it's as much my fault as it is, hers. You see.....I've never admitted this to anyone, but.....I really have strong feelings for Sarah. Sure, we've argued a lot, but.....working alongside her, trying to get all of us to a place of safety made me come to admire her courage, and......well I guess I-----," he stopped short. "What?" Apollo was still finding it hard to calm down, "Are you in love with her, Michael?" Michael took a breath, "Yes. I----just thought that on Paradeen, there'd be time for her to eventually feel the same way about me and that I didn't need to be open with her, yet. I.....never realized she could be capable of something like this because she thought I.....didn't feel that way about her." "Well, that's one problem you'll have to rectify. Mine is trying to see if the damage is as severe as she says it is. I want you and Vector to take me over there, immediately." Cassiopeia found Sarah still seated in the dining room, her head buried in her arms as she continued to sob. "Sarah?" Cassiopeia sat down next to her, "Sarah, can I talk to you?" She looked up at the med-tech, her eyes visibly red. "He told you?" "Only a little," she decided she was going to keep her sympathy in check for now, but without sounding harsh. "Is what he says, true? You....destroyed the vipers?" Sarah nodded. "I......took a piece of heavy equipment, and I was able to climb inside them and just.....smash the instrument panels." "Why?" "Because I.....thought I had no choice if I was to get....Apollo to stay. I....I never realized he had a family of his own to think of." "And you never realized as well that you'd be forcing Starbuck and me to stay here too?" her voice was quiet, "It was just you thinking of yourself, all the time?" "Can't you understand?" Sarah seemed desperate to find someone who'd say yes to the question. "After the kind of life I've gone through since my husband died. All the sacrifice to try and care for my children singlehandedly. Then dealing with the slavery of the Alliance. Taking these risks to get them to safety, and then finding out my father is gone. Haven't I earned the right to finally look after my own needs?" "Not when you end up failing to think of how it affects other people," Cassiopeia shook her head, "There's only one word to describe you, Sarah. And that word is selfish. You won't make me or anyone else ever understand that." she paused as a memory of Cain and his refusal to make things easy for Sheba after he'd begun his relationship with Cassiopeia came back to her. "I've seen that kind of behavior in my life before, and I know how it only leads to needless hurt and pain." Sarah made a half-hearted attempt at wiping her eyes, "So I guess I've really done it now. I've made sure that everyone else but my children are always going to hate me." "No," Cassiopeia shook her head, "There's no hatred, Sarah. And you can do what you can to make amends, and the person who does that is always forgiven." "How do I do that, then?" Cassiopeia rose from the table, "I'll tell you how you can start," she said quietly, but bluntly, "Change your attitude about life." When the med-tech left the room, Sarah remained where she was. But at least now, the tears had stopped. The sense of urgency in Apollo's voice had made Vector drive the hovermobile back to the aerodrome with greater recklessness. More than once, Apollo and Michael felt themselves slammed up and down as the vehicle passed at great speeds over small crevices and bumps in the roadways. When they reached the aerodrome's outer perimeter, Vector had to swerve wildly to avoid hitting a group of barrels, nearly hurling both humans out of the vehicle. "Slow down!" Apollo barked. "The last thing I need is a broken neck caused by a bad driver!" "Yes sir!" Vector obediently pulled back on the control throttle and the vehicle came to a stop just fifty feet from the parked vipers. Externally, nothing seemed damaged. But as Apollo sprinted across the runway and vaulted himself up so he could look inside, he realized that Sarah hadn't understated things. The viper instrument panels had been smashed into hundreds of fragments by a heavy blunt instrument. Memo to Wilker, he thought with disgust, Design a viper canopy that can be kept sealed shut after you leave it. "Apollo?" Michael called over, "Is it that bad?" The captain dropped to the ground, "It's that bad. These ships will never fly again. Oh, I suppose theoretically some parts could be scavenged to get a signal up and running, but by then it'll be too late." He took a glance at his chronometer. "We're already running out of time. We have to be away from here no later than tomorrow morning." He then doubled over as he suddenly found it hard to breathe. He had to take several quick breaths before he felt normal again. "Apollo?" Michael helped him back to his feet. "Yeah," he grunted, "Just getting another reminder of why we have to get off this planet soon. That's another thing Sarah managed to so conveniently forget." "Okay, don't belabor your anger with her," the brown-haired man said defensively, "You have to deal with what you can do now. Maybe the three of you could use our ship to get into orbit so you could signal the Galactica." The captain shook his head, "That wouldn't work. Your ship doesn't have strong enough communications, and it also doesn't have the speed we need to catch up." "It may be your only practical option, given what little time you have." "True," Apollo admitted, "But I'd have to have Starbuck with me to work on this together. I couldn't handle a job like this all by myself." "Maybe he and Hector are back by now." "Maybe." He called over to Vector, who was still seated in the hovercraft, "Vector, we're heading back!" "As you wish!" the robot settled himself back behind the driver's seat. "Oh and one thing," Apollo said as he stepped into the vehicle, realizing he needed some release from the anger and frustration he'd been feeling all morning, "Drive more carefully, will you?" "Starbuck, I really think you should return to the vehicle for more oxygen," the concern in Hector's voice was mounting as the blonde warrior struggled to pull open one of the doors on the sub-level containing the Archives. "No!" he said defiantly. "Not when I'm this close." "It may not be worth the effort." "There might be information back there that affects the lives of 70,000 people for all time. Any effort is worth it." "But----," Hector stopped as Starbuck finally got the door to open. "Got it," he grinned with satisfaction. "Now all I got to do is go inside and see what there is." He then turned back to Hector, "Tell you what. You know where this place is, so you can go back to the vehicle and bring the oxygen tank with you. Then, I can work here almost indefinitely." "I....will try to do so, Starbuck." There was an edge of self-doubt in the robot's voice. "Just do it, kid," the warrior patted him on the back. "See 'ya later." He then disappeared into the darkened room, determined to not leave until he'd found what he'd come for. Far away, Adama had spent most of the last two cycles in isolation in his quarters. Hoping and waiting for a message from the Bridge that the vipers were on their way back. His concern for his son's well-being, as well as that of Starbuck, now outweighed any consideration of whether their mission would be successful or not. The chime to his door sounded. Ordinarily he would have just said, "Enter", but he now felt he had to guard against the prospect of it being a Council member. Instead, he said, "Yes?" "It's me, Commander," he heard Tigh's voice. "Enter," he felt relieved. The door slid open and the executive officer entered. "I'm assuming this isn't about Apollo or Starbuck, or else you would have given me that directly from the Bridge." "You're right," Tigh admitted, "This has to do with what our regular patrol sweeps have been picking up. I had them plot the known trajectory of that Terran spacecraft on a backward heading to see what they could come up with. Boomer's patrol says they spotted at least two other ships that seemed to be operating on military type patrol sweeps." Adama came upright, "Did they make contact?" "No, they took a quick scan and kept out of sight as best they could. Our scanning data suggests they could be small destroyer type craft. Not big enough to house more than a crew of about a dozen given their size. But there were clear indications of some kind of primitive armament mounted in them, which confirmed them as military." "Hmmm," Adama put a finger to his lips, "Do you suppose that could account for what our Terran guests were trying to escape from?" "Your guess is as good as mine, Commander," Tigh said, "Until we get a report from Apollo and Starbuck, we really can't hazard any kind of guess." "Yes," he nodded grimly, "And unfortunately, we're beginning to run out of time." When the hovercraft returned, Apollo and Michael immediately noticed that the second vehicle was already there. And they also saw a befuddled Hector looking about. "Hector?" Vector inquired sharply as he shut off the ignition. "What are you doing standing about?" "I can't seem to find anyone!" "Well we're here, now. What is it?" "Where's Starbuck?" Apollo felt the concern rising. "That's just it," the younger robot said, "Starbuck is.....lost. Or, perhaps I should explain more accurately, *I* became lost." "You stupid scrap-heap!" Vector felt like slapping his hand on Hector's head. "Never mind the epithets," the captain said sharply, "Where did you lose him?" "In the Archives. Starbuck found the room where they're kept on the sub-level of the capitol building and told me to go back to get more oxygen for him. But.....I became disoriented trying to find my way back, so I realized the first thing I should do is go for help." "And left him in a place where he couldn't breathe for more than an hour at best!" Vector slapped him anyway, "You imbecile." "You did right, Hector, don't worry about that," Apollo said reassuringly and then turned at Michael, "Well that changes everything. Now we have to go back there and find Starbuck before he suffocates. Cassiopeia!" He called out. The med-tech emerged from the main house, "Yes?" "Cassie, get the spare oxygen tanks. Starbuck's lost somewhere in the city and we've got to find him." "I'll get them!" she dashed back inside. "What about me?" Michael asked. Apollo uneasily took a breath, "I think you'd better look after Sarah and the children. Given the state she's probably in right now after what happened, it might not be a good idea to leave her alone, here." "I have five times your breathing capacity, Apollo. That means I should go with you." "And Vector and Hector outdo us both on that point. Plus, Cassiopeia is a trained med-tech, so that means she has to go." he paused, "If you really feel as you do about Sarah, you'll reach out to her when she needs you most, right now." Slowly, Michael nodded, "I understand." Cassiopeia dashed out of the house carrying two additional oxygen tanks. She loaded them into the back of the hovercraft. "Vector, Hector, we'll take this hovercraft. You ride up front, Cassiopeia and I will ride in back." "Good luck, Apollo." Michael said, "I hope and pray you get there in time," Apollo managed a smile, "We'll be back in a centon before you know it." And then the hovercraft pulled off. Leaving Michael alone to say aloud with a chuckle, "I wish you'd tell me what a centon is." Then, he took a breath and went back inside the house, knowing it was time to open up to Sarah in ways he hadn't done before. "ETA to landing in fifteen minutes, Commandant," Krebs dutifully reported. "Concentrate scan for life forms." "In the city, Commandant?" Leiter glared at him, "No, you fool, in the hinterlands! What few survivors remain on that wasted planet would still fear the lethal effects of how the city's population was destroyed. So they eke out their miserable existence on farms utilizing the practically worthless soil." "Commandant!" an officer stationed amidships reported, "I have two plastic-based lifeforms registering." "Excellent," the commander came up to his station, "Where are they?" "Not far apart. Indications of two lifeforms accompanying them, here," he pointed, "And five lifeforms in this area." "Five lifeforms. That corresponds to the number of people in those two families. The other two with the robots must be the pilots of those other craft." he paused, "They would clearly be the more formidable opposition. We will move in on our designated targets, those five, there!" he brought his hand down on the monitor to emphasize his determination. Chapter Seven For the first ten centons after Hector had left, Starbuck had been oblivious to the foul smell of the air. Instead, like a child in a sweet shop, he attacked the cabinets and shelves with intensity, trying to find what he needed most. Star charts and maps. Too bad there's no way to restore power to this area, he thought as he empted the contents of one cabinet on a table. A central data file might be able to give me the answer in a micron. The first group of documents were no more than routine administrative reports. Then, he saw materials pertaining to a great exposition that would take place in the city. Wrong shelf, he thought in disgust as he took a breath and found himself staggering slightly. He managed to open another cabinet and saw this one contained what looked like older versions of computer discs. Stacks of them were kept in clear plastic boxes with writing on them. Damn, I should have had Hector stay to translate this for me, he thought. No point trying to figure those out. I'll have to stick to paper. Starbuck then went back to the cabinet adjacent to the one where he had gone through the other paper documents. This time, he saw something his mind could more easily comprehend. The clear unmistakable thick parchments of maps. He felt the tension rise inside him as he unfurled one and saw the unmistakable shapes of planets and orbital trajectories. His eyes then darted about hoping that one word would be recognizable to him. The word "Terra." The first map held no such promise. The term "Paradeen" indicated it was a local star chart. The second one showed several more bodies, each very small in size. The only word he could make out at the bottom was "Lunar." Clearly this one was the localized system containing the Lunar Seven colony Michael and Sarah had escaped from. "Come on," he whispered as he struggled to take another breath and found he needed to sit down on the litter-strewn floor to save his strength, "Third one's got to work, right?" He unfurled the third chart and this time saw a large greenish planet at the center. And at the bottom, the unmistakable word, "Terra." "Jackpot," Starbuck grinned, "Oh, Starbuck your luck here's as good as it is at the Pyramid table. This is what we came for." He stopped to admire the fine detail of the illustration showing Terra in its orbital path near a bright yellow sun. The closest object to it. Two smaller planetoids lay beyond, further from the sun. "Lot of nice detail in this chart," Starbuck said aloud as he managed to get to his feet. "A lot nicer than------," He stopped in mid-sentence as something he'd forgotten from a long time ago came back to him with the force of a thunderbolt. One that now caused all his happy thoughts to evaporate in an instant. "Oh, frack," Starbuck moaned and sagged back to a sitting position on the dirty floor, "Frack, felgercarb and shit, it can't be. Tell me you just forgot." But the longer he stared at the chart, the more he realized that this was a professional effort meant to serve as a definitive chart. There could be no mistake at all about it. And that only meant one thing as far as the ultimate question was concerned. "Ah well," he said sadly, "Guess it's time for me to go." Starbuck struggled to his feet and managed to roll up the map, inserting it in his inner jacket pocket. Each breath he tried to take proved more and more difficult and he found himself staggering out of the room, trying to remember where it was he'd come in. "Hector?" he said aloud, "Hector, you back?" Hearing nothing he then shrugged, "Guess, I gotta find my way out myself." Feeling more and more lightheaded, Starbuck staggered off down the corridor, totally oblivious to the sight of the stairwell that would have taken him back the way he'd come down. "Okay, which way is this capitol building?" Apollo jumped out as soon as the hovercraft came to a stop in front of the first glass-domed structure. "That's what I forgot," Hector shrugged with embarrassment. "Imbecile!" Vector scolded, "The most important structure in the city is through that dome, up the main avenue in town and it leads straight there! Do you not have basic geography installed in you?" "You built me!" he glared back at him. "Don't remind me!" the two robots then got out, with Cassiopeia bringing up the rear with one of the oxygen tanks. "It's this way, Apollo." "We're following you, Vector," Apollo said, feeling the tension rise inside him. Michael had taken his time gathering all of his inner strength before knocking on the door to Sarah's bedroom. This was a moment in his life where he knew he couldn't falter at all. "Sarah?" he called, "Can I come in?" There was no response and he decided to take a chance by opening the door himself. When it slid open, he saw her lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling with a vacant expression. "Sarah?" "What do you want?" she refused to look at him. "I wanted to talk," he said with all the gentleness he could manage. "I've had enough lectures about how horrible and selfish I was from Apollo and Cassiopeia. I don't need another one." "That isn't it," he took a breath, "I came to apologize to you." She finally looked at him and then with a quizzical expression, came upright. "What are you talking about?" Michael took a deep breath, "Sarah, I----," he took a step toward her, "I know you and I have been at each other's throats a lot because of our differing views on technology and other things. But.....if I ever gave you the idea that I didn't care about you or your children, I'm....sorry. I really am." "I never doubted that." "Sorry, bad choice of words. Not care about you, but....care *for* you. A lot." She had a blank expression, "I'm not sure I understand." He came up to her and sat down next to her, "All right, Sarah. Can you understand this? I love you. I've been in love with you for a long time, and I'm sorry I never made you realize that before. Then, you might not have felt compelled to.....do what you did last night." Sarah said nothing for a moment, as if she was trying to come to terms with something else she'd never considered before. "Did you hear me, Sarah?" he took her hand and squeezed it tightly, looking her in the eye, "I love you." "I heard you," she whispered, "I....I'm so selfish, I just assumed you didn't think that way about me because of our....differences, so that's why I never let myself think about......oh God, forgive me." Michael then embraced her tight and with slight trepidation, kissed her on the lips. Sarah didn't resist, but instead found herself reciprocating and tightening her hold on him. When they finally released each other, all the anguish was gone from her face. Replaced by a contented smile. "It's going to be okay," Michael said, "They'll fix their ships and it won't be a problem at all. We can put all the bad stuff behind us for good and just start anew. Like we are with this place." "Yes," Sarah nodded, "That's what we need to do. Start anew." She paused, "I love you, Michael." They kissed each other again and were still locked in each other's hold when the sound of feet burst into the house. "Mommy, there's something big out----," The two adults quickly released each other, but not before they saw the three children already standing inside the room, all of them with wide-eyed, disbelieving expressions at what they'd just seen. "Yes, children?" Sarah put all of the parental authority back into her voice. "What did you see?" "There's some big ship outside! Even bigger than Apollo's and Starbuck's." "Big ship?" Michael then felt a rush of horror go through him, "Oh no." "The Alliance?" Sarah suddenly felt it too. "What else?" he grimaced, "Come on, let's see if there's a place we can hide for now! Hurry!" The journey back to the capitol building took longer than Apollo would have liked but once they reached it, Hector finally showed signs that his bearings had come back. "There!" he pointed to the stairwell on the far side of the rotunda. "That was where we descended to sub-level five. The Archives are down there." "Okay," Apollo said calmly, "Cassiopeia, let's take a deep breath of oxygen and make sure we'll be okay to last at least fifteen or twenty centons." "Apollo, what is this 'centon' you keep referring to?" Vector asked. Apollo found his exasperation increasing, "It's a time unit. Don't blame me if we use another term." "There's little point asking him about that, Father," Hector chided, "We haven't a moment to lose." Hearing another ancient Gemonese term only made Apollo roll his eyes as the four of them headed for the stairwell that would take them down. They had managed to find a basement housing utility equipment in the main house and had hidden themselves under the stairwell. "Be quiet, children," Michael said, "Not a sound." As they sat in the dark, they could hear the sound of the main door upstairs being broken into. Then the loud thumping sounds of heavy feet in boots against the floor. For over a minute, there was silence from above. And with it, Michael could feel the terror inside him increase to the point where he could almost hear the sound of his own heart thumping. Then, the sound of the basement door being kicked open shattered the silence. A piercing voice then filled the room. "Wherever you five are, you might as well stop this game and come out. Or else we will be forced to retrieve you ourselves." "Michael," Sarah whispered, "We have no choice. If we don't come out, they might----" "I know," he grunted, "Of all the times for Apollo and Starbuck to be away with those fancy guns of theirs." Michael then climbed out and stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. Leiter stood at the top, the backlight shining against him and making his black-uniformed figure seem more sinister than ever. "All right," Leiter waved his arm, "Upstairs. All of you. And now it's time we talk, no?" Slowly, the five of them made their way up. When they entered the living room they saw Leiter and the other four members of his crew standing at attention with weapons drawn. "Sit down," Leiter motioned. Reluctantly, Michael did so, with Sarah sitting next to him. The children all stayed close to them, gathering by their feet. "So," the Commander moved toward them, his hands behind his back. "You are the group that caused a good deal of trouble when you made your escape from Lunar Seven last month." "What of it?" Sarah said with contempt as she instinctively placed her hands on her son and daughter in protection. "Of what use could we be to the Alliance?" Leiter smiled menacingly as he paced up and down in front of them, "If it were up to me, dear lady, I would find no reason to bother with any of you. However," he stopped and gave them all a cold piercing glance, "There are two other matters that require our attention. Cooperate, and I might be open to the possibility of leaving you in peace." "Spoken like a typical Alliance Enforcer," Michael's voice dripped with even more contempt, "Using threats and terror to get what you want." "That is the way of things, my dear sir," Leiter said haughtily, "Now let us begin with the matter of a certain Colonel Charles Watts, whom I believe you were acquainted with on Lunar Seven." "Never heard of him," Michael said dryly. Leiter let out another smirk as he drew up and abruptly slapped the full force of his gloved fist across Michael's face. Sarah let out a startled gasp while the children began to cower more in fear. "I don't like your answer, sir," Leiter grabbed him by the collar of his silver suit and whispered menacingly. "Colonel Watts, a Nationalist operative, helped you escape from Lunar Seven. Where did he say he was going next?" "We don't know!" Sarah shouted frantically, "He never told us about his missions or where he was going to go next. He thought it would be safer for us by not telling us that information. I swear that's the truth!" The Alliance commander let go of Michael, and he collapsed back into the sofa, casting only a quick glance at Sarah to silently thank her for telling a convincing lie. They both knew Watts had told them that his next mission objective was Lunar One, but that was one thing they had no intention of ever revealing. "Very well," Leiter resumed his pacing, "That would follow that he would not be so open about what he planned to do next. So we shall move on to the matter of what you do know something about. The men in those two ships that accompanied you to the surface." Sarah froze slightly, as did Michael since neither of them would have expected the Alliance to ask that question so quickly. "What about them?" Michael mumbled, still feeling the sting of Leiter's blow. "They possess craft that the Alliance must have." "You're out of luck," Sarah felt glad she could use the truth to her advantage, "Their craft were destroyed. There's nothing you could do with them. Go out to the spaceport and see for yourself." Leiter smirked again, "In time. But even if that is true, it changes nothing. Where there are two such craft, there must be more. And we want to know the secret of them." "Can't help you on that. They were friends escorting us in, and they never told us where their base was," Michael said. "Then you tell us where they are," Leiter drew close to them, "Unless you want the other side of your face to match the one that's already been bruised." Michael was silent for a long moment. Then, he suddenly bolted to his feet, grabbed a vase off the table and smashed it through the window leading outside. "Run, children! Run!" As the children scrambled over the sofa for the open window, Michael elbowed Leiter in the midsection causing the Commander to stagger back. It was only meant to be a delaying tactic, since it gave all three of the children the time they needed to scramble outside. "Commandant!" Krebs blurted as he and the other three crewman approached, "What shall we do?" "Ah, let them go for now!" Leiter snarled as he got back to his feet and then with rage brought his fist against Michael's jaw, causing him to collapse onto the couch. A frightened Sarah attended to him and saw the stream of blood coming out of his mouth. "We'll deal with those children later. After we've taught their parents a proper.....disciplinary lesson." "This is the Archives," Hector pointed, "Right there. That's where I left him!" Apollo looked inside the darkened room and saw only scattered papers lying about. "He's not here anymore." "It looks as though he did spend a good deal of time going through the materials," Vector noted. "That doesn't matter right now. The only thing that's important is finding him." He took another breath, "Cassiopeia, you and I had better take another gulp of that stuff." The med-tech nodded and handed the oxygen tank to Apollo before taking a deep inhale from it herself. Inside, she was feeling her own sense of fear rising about what had happened to the man she loved. After the recent experience of nearly losing him during his murder tribunal, the last thing she needed was to see him meet an ignoble end like this. "Apollo," Cassiopeia said, "Maybe we ought to split up? We could cover more ground that way and stay in touch via portable com-links." "Good idea," Apollo nodded, wishing he'd reminded Starbuck to take one himself. "You and Hector check the level above us. Vector and I will explore the rest of this level." "I hope we don't get lost ourselves!" Vector said as he and Apollo started to move off, "These chambers can go on forever and ever!" "Anyone ever tell you you're a lot of laughs, Vector?" the captain said sarcastically as they moved down the corridor while Hector and Cassiopeia returned to the stairwell. The sense of lightheadedness inside Starbuck had long since caused him to lose sight of his bearings and sense of direction. He had no idea how far he'd stumbled after missing the stairwell that led back up to the rotunda. Now, his increasingly foggy mind barely comprehended the meaning of some of the other things he'd wandered past. An open room that looked like a judicial chamber. A children's playroom, perhaps for the children of those who had worked here. And then....something that reminded him of a full-fledged recreational facility. He staggered inside and his increasingly blurry vision saw what reminded him of old style video games that one might find in a Rejuvenation Center or Chancery. A rotted wooden table had the unmistakable contours of a bar. "I'll be," he mumbled, "Looks like they knew how to have fun." Starbuck staggered toward the ruins of the bar and saw what looked like the smashed remains of a liquor cabinet. There were bottles stacked inside that closely resembled those used for ambrosia. "How do you like that," he pulled an intact bottle out, "They still got some left. I wonder how it tastes. Just like the kind on-----," he stopped as a sudden burst of reality managed to intrude on his lightheadedness. "Uh oh, I am *lost*. No sense staying here even for this stuff. Frack, smells so bad here, that-----," His rambling monologue stopped when he looked down and recoiled in horror at the sight of a decaying corpse lying on the ground. In all of his life he had never seen a more hideous one than this. Abruptly, he dropped the bottle to the ground where it crashed and dashed back out into the corridor, staggering wildly from side to side with each step. "Hold it!" Apollo called out, just as Hector and Cassiopeia started ascending the stairwell. "I think I heard something down that way. Just be quiet!" The four of them stood in total silence and then, from somewhere far off in the distance, they could hear the uneven sound of footfalls. "Starbuck!" Apollo shouted, "Can you hear me?" They stood and waited for a response, but none came. But then, they could hear another faint footfall. "I think that's him. Come on!" The four of them ran as fast as they could down the corridor. Apollo didn't even care about the overexertion he was causing himself. The only thing mattered was getting to his friend as quickly as possible. Finally, after several centons of sprinting at full speed, they saw him sprawled across the floor. "Starbuck!" Apollo knelt beside him and lifted him to a sitting position. His friend's eyes were open and it was clear he wasn't dead. "Get the oxygen on him!" Cassiopeia knelt beside him and placed the mask over his face. "Breathe, Starbuck, breathe!" "Oh...." Starbuck moaned as he took a breath, "Oh." "How is he?" "Vital signs look good. He should be fine as long as he breathes a steady stream for the next few centons." "Good, have him keep breathing, and let's get out of here. Back out the way we came in." "There might be another accessible exit from this level," Hector noted, "Isn't that true?" "I'm not about to waste time finding out, and I'm certainly not going to trust *your* judgment on this, Hector!" Vector snapped. "We do as Apollo says and go out the way we came in. We should be back at the ranch in less than an hour." "And we're going to have to talk about a lot of things in the meantime as soon as he's able." Apollo grunted as he got Starbuck to his feet, "Okay, let's move out." Since the children had made their escape, Leiter had made sure his Enforcers had their guns trained on Michael and Sarah the whole time. The Commander though, didn't bother talking to them. Instead, he first prepared himself a drink, and then after finishing it, took note of the fireplace. "Krebs," he ordered his executive officer, "Get some wood from outside and bring it in here. I think we should build a fire to guard against the impending evening chill.....and perhaps put it to another use as well." Michael, no longer feeling the sting from his bruises, felt his skin crawling in horror as he realized what the commander had in mind. By the time they reached the surface, Starbuck had all of his faculties back, as well as his energy. "I am *so* sorry, Starbuck," Hector said apologetically, "It was all my fault." "Indeed!" Vector chimed in. "Hey Hector, forget it," Starbuck waved a hand, "You apologized once, you don't have to do it a million times. Matter of fact, it should have been my idea to bring the oxygen tank down to begin with." "It doesn't matter now, Starbuck." Apollo said, "Our biggest problem is trying to think up a new way to get off this planet before tomorrow morning." "What are you talking about?" As soon as Apollo had explained the situation, the lieutenant's face turned sour, "Oh, great. There were a lot of interesting things I saw here, but I didn't plan on spending the rest of my life here so I could get a chance to explore them. What's our best option?" "We'll see if we can salvage a communications signal from the viper and get it into the systems of Michael's spacecraft. We might be able to at least get off a long-range signal to the Fleet and they can send a shuttle in to pick us up. But we'll have to get started on that right away as soon as we get back to the ranch and pick up Michael to help us out." "Great," Starbuck rolled his eyes, "After what I've been through, I thought I'd earned the right to a nice little respite." "After this, the three of us will all get passes for the Rising Star, that I can assure you of," Apollo said as they exited the lead dome structure and saw the reassuring sight of the parked hovercraft. "In all this commotion, we've forgotten to ask the most important question," Hector noted, "Did you find anything in the Archives?" Starbuck finally nodded, "As a matter of fact, I did. The answer to the big question, I hope, is still in my jacket pocket." "What?" Cassiopeia asked in surprise, "You found the answer?" "I found what I needed to know," Starbuck pulled the map out of his pocket where it was still folded up. "Vector, can you confirm for me that this is a map of the solar system Terra lies in?" The older robot took it, opened it up and smiled brightly, "Why yes! I recognize that sight immediately! That shows Terra and her neighboring planets right down to the finest detail." "You know what's so funny about that, Apollo?" Starbuck said, "All we had to do was ask Vector and Hector one simple question, and we never would have had to bother searching for this at all." "What are you talking about, Starbuck?" Apollo felt his anticipation, "And can you get to the point?" "Vector, is it true that Terra is the closest planet in the system to its sun?" The older robot's eyebrows went up and he handed the map back to Starbuck, "Why of course it's true! That's been the way of things since the beginning." "There you have it, Apollo," Starbuck said with a mirthless smile, "With that one little piece of information, you can answer the question of whether Terra is Earth." "You're not making any-----," Apollo started then stopped as he suddenly realized what his friend meant. "Good Lords of Kobol, you're right. The map Boxey drew for me from the Testament of Arkada. The map you saw in that cell on Proteus. Earth is the *third* planet from its sun, not the closest." "You got it," Starbuck said, "And if you need more confirmation of this, remember the last part of the equation we got when the coordinates for Earth were revealed to us by those....whatever they were? A star system containing......." "Nine planets," Apollo finished, "Just like on those other maps. This system has only three." "And even those two don't match the visual descriptions of the other planets in Earth's system." he shook his head as they reached the hovercraft, "That's our final report to the Commander in a nutshell. Whatever this Terra is, it's not Earth." "Damn," Apollo whispered. "That's going to make things more complicated with the Council than ever." "Does it really matter so much if Terra is not the one specific planet you've been wanting to find?" Vector asked as he settled behind the wheel, "Surely the same opportunities present themselves to you." "That won't be our decision, Vector. Once we get back and report, it will be out of our hands." "With those people who don't use logic in making their decisions?" Hector asked as he seated himself next to his father. "Hopefully not, Hector," Starbuck said as he settled next to a stunned Cassiopeia and a frustrated Apollo. "Okay, let's get going." For almost an hour, Michael and Sarah found themselves forced to stay on the sofa with the Enforcers training their guns on them. Leiter had spent the entire time building a steady fire. Now, as it burned he looked at it with satisfaction, then turned his attention back to the two of them. "The flame is intoxicating, isn't it?" his posture was more relaxed, his hat now off. "I would so hate to find another use for it." "You're sick," Michael wished he could spit at him, "You and the whole Alliance." "Come, come," he laughed disarmingly, "We have our sides in this endless war. Yours. Mine. I really do not want to bring harm to you our your children if I don't have to. You would serve them better if you would tell me where they have gone, because I have little doubt they've gone to seek out those two friends of yours. All of them will have to return eventually, since they will soon realize how foolish it is to think of challenging a trained crew as we are." he turned to Krebs, "You and Malik go out and keep an eye on the perimeter. Sturber and Suloff will wait with me here." "Yes, Commandant." Krebs nodded and departed, with one other Enforcer following. "How many children did you kill when you dropped that neutron bomb on the city?" Sarah kept her voice cold and full of hate. Leiter glared at her, "I was not the commander in charge of that particular operation. My own preference would have been to make your people efficient workers on behalf of the Alliance." "Just like at Lunar Seven?" Michael shot back, "Where people have no say in how they run their lives? Where people's creativity and sense of purpose is stifled in the name of serving the interests of the state first?" "If people would understand the need to dispense with these notions of pursuing self-interest ahead of the common good, there would be no need for a state," Leiter said sharply, "Total equality and harmony would reign supreme." "They tell me the Supreme Commander of the Alliance lives in one of the most luxurious mansions in all of Terra," Sarah taunted, "So much for your devotion to so-called 'equality.' The only thing you want to do is force the many to be slaves for the few, and those who aren't willing then get slaughtered." Leiter's cold stare increased and he placed his hat back on his head, "Atrocities happen in all forms of war on both sides." "I've only got one thing to say about the war," Michael said contemptuously, "If the Nationalists have people like Watts at their disposal, they're going to see to it that you lose." "We shall see," Leiter said, "I am now going to give you just fifteen more minutes to be cooperative. And then.....this fire will serve that new purpose I've been alluding to." Dusk had begun to settle as the hovercraft left the abandoned city behind and made its way back toward the ranch. They were still just halfway back when suddenly, Vector applied his foot to the brakes, causing the three humans in the back to spill forward, banging themselves. "Ouch!" Starbuck rubbed his head, "Vector, someday I'd like to meet *your* father and tell him he forgot to program driving skills in you!" "I'm sorry, Starbuck but look!" he pointed, "The children!" The three of them came up and saw the unmistakable silver-clad figures of the three children. "Something's happened," Apollo said with concern as he got out and sprinted up to them, "What happened?" "Those Alliance people landed!" the older girl, the one Apollo remembered was Michael's daughter Jillian, was crying. "They're holding my dad and Sarah and prisoner. We managed to escape!" "Okay, okay!" Apollo reached out and hugged her in support, while Starbuck and Cassiopeia did likewise with the other two, who were also crying heavily. "How many of them are there?" "There are four men with guns! And a big ugly man who's their leader! They're in the main house," Sarah's small boy spoke up. "You hear that?" Apollo glanced at Starbuck, "Five of them in all. Think we can take care of them with just our two laser pistols?" "Begging your pardon, Apollo, but we are not exactly unarmed!" Vector said as he proudly unclipped his own gun. "Okay, okay, if you and Hector can help, go right ahead. Cassiopeia, I want you to stay here with the children. Stay clear of the ranch at all costs and wait here. When we've secured things, we'll send a hovercraft back to pick you up." "Just be careful," Cassiopeia said with concern. "Don't take any risks that could endanger Michael or Sarah." "Cass," Starbuck flashed a trademark grin at his girlfriend, "This is when I finally get to show that I haven't lost my touch one bit." The two warriors got back into the vehicle, and Vector wasted no time firing it up again. "Slow down and come to a stop before the ranch comes into view," Apollo warned. "We're going to need the element of surprise." "Of course!" Vector agreed. "And promise to keep your mouth shut, will you?" Starbuck added. "You too, Hector!" "I always do what I'm told!" the younger robot said as he unclipped his own gun. "Good, that means you two bring up the rear." The four of them advanced further on the road. Finally, the outer lights of the ranch complex came into view at the bottom of a gentle slope in the road. "Wish I had field magnifiers," Apollo grunted, "Starbuck, can you see anyone down there?" "Not sure. Wait. There's one guy patrolling in front of the main house. And.....over there on the other side of the complex." "Okay," Apollo now had to bring all of his tactical training to the forefront, "Here's what we do. Starbuck, I want you to go around and take out that one on the other end of the complex and as soon as he's eliminated, hightail it to the back of the house and keep out of sight. You'll wait until you see and hear me running to get the drop on that guy in front of the main house." "How are you going to do that?" "Simple," Apollo grinned at Vector and Hector, "That's where you two come in. I want you both to create a little diversion." "Apollo," Starbuck said, "Just one question. What setting do I put my pistol on?" Apollo took a breath, "Starbuck, much as I hate to say this, you'll have to keep it on stun. I'll explain why later. Now get going." "Gotcha," the blonde warrior moved off, keeping himself crouched low as he made his way toward the other side of the ranch complex. "What sort of diversion did you have in mind, Apollo?" Vector asked. "One that will really have the others inside anxious to come out into the open." Starbuck was glad that night had now fallen over Paradeen, giving him the cover of darkness to make his way down the slope to the ranch complex below. He could now see the figure of the Alliance guard clearly, and shook his head in disbelief at the sight of the man wearing his strange uniform with the sun visor down. All that served to do was make his field of vision more limited, especially in night conditions. Staying down, Starbuck made his way to the field area that placed him behind the guard. Deciding not to waste any firepower in his laser just yet, he decided to try one other tactic first, as he came up behind the guard as quietly as he could, and then brought the butt of his pistol squarely on the back of the man's neck. The guard let out a sharp grunt and collapsed to the ground, his helmet clattering off. Starbuck then brought the pistol down on his head again, and that managed to finally send him into unconsciousness. With a satisfied smirk, the blonde warrior made his way across the complex until he saw the lights of the main house. He pressed himself against the back wall, only occasionally peering around the corner where he could see one guard still patrolling. It was time for him to wait. His eyes then widened in amazement when he saw the unmistakable forms of Hector and Vector approaching. Both of them walking nonchalantly down the road. "Halt!" the guard pulled out his gun, "Who are you?" "Who are we?" Vector said with a trace of indignation, "Isn't that obvious? You are only looking at the greatest song and dance team in the history of Terran civilization." "Yes!" Hector matched the older robot's tone, "Are you not familiar with the team of Hector and Vector and how we packed the greatest audiences in the history of Terra's National Theater?" "Vector and Hector, you fool!" "But the tradition says the junior partner's name always comes first!" "What are you talking about?" the guard railed indignantly, "You come from this complex, do you not?" "Certainly not! And when you hear us perform, you'll finally remember who we really are!" Hector didn't let up. "Our greatest number went like this," Vector cleared his voice and began to sing, "We're farmland inspectors, we're homeland protectors, we see that things run here much better up!" "Better up!" Hector chimed in on-key. "I'm going to shoot you both if you don't shut up and answer some questions!" the guard pointed his gun at them. "We haven't gotten to the dance, yet! Hector, show the man!" The younger robot began to go into a flawless dancing motion that even Starbuck found amazing. Then, Vector joined in, and demonstrated an even superior agility. Oh boy, Starbuck thought with a trace of regret, too bad the Star Circuit doesn't exist anymore. As the guard took a step toward the two robots, they suddenly in the midst of their dancing movement, parted off to the sides, and the guard found himself staring now at Apollo pointing a laser pistol at his face. "That wasn't very polite of you to not applaud their efforts," Apollo said with a mocking smile, "Now drop that gun or you're dead!" Trembling, the guard dropped his weapon. "Did we do good, Apollo?" Vector asked. "You were magnificent. I'm only sorry there wasn't time to see the whole number." "What is going on, out here?" the door to the main house opened, and an indignant Leiter emerged. As soon as the commander was out in the open, Starbuck dashed in from behind the main house and in an instant he'd grabbed the commander from behind and had his gun pointed at his head. "Ah, ah," Starbuck grinned, "Don't say a word. Just one word makes my finger pull the little trigger here." "Well done, Starbuck," Apollo grinned. "This must be their ugly leader the children spoke about. How many more still inside?" "I'm not talking," Leiter said angrily, feeling nothing but the greatest sense of humiliation he'd ever known in his life. "Oh yes you are," Starbuck tightened his grip on the commander. "Now you call them out, now or you're dead!" Leiter finally knew it was hopeless. "Sturber! Suloff! Get out here and drop your weapons!" A half centon went by and the two remaining Alliance guards emerged, and reluctantly threw their weapons to the ground. "Vector, Hector, start getting them secure," Apollo ordered as he kept waving his pistol. Another centon went by and finally Michael and Sarah stepped outside. "It's okay," Apollo smiled, "It's all over now." "Our children?" Sarah asked with concern. "Cassiopeia's with them. We'll bring them back as soon as we make sure these goons are dealt with so they can never harm you again." "Thank God," Michael sighed with relief and then glanced at Sarah, "You said, 'our children', right?" She looked at him and smiled, "I guess I did." "I like the sound of that." "So do I.." They came up to Apollo, "You'll like the sound of this too, Apollo," he said, "There's an Alliance Destroyer parked near here that has a lot more speed than our shuttle. Maybe not as fast as your vipers, but it should get you back to your home in good shape." "You hear that, Apollo?" Starbuck grinned as he shoved Leiter off to the fenced in area where the livestock were kept, "Looks like a happy ending for all of us!" The captain's only reply was a hearty laugh. Chapter Eight It had been a sleepless night for everyone. Making sure that Leiter and his four man crew were tied up and secured inside the Destroyer. Spending two centars going over the flight principles of the spacecraft. Salvaging some needed parts from their wrecked vipers, and then making sure the map Starbuck had retrieved from the City Archives was secure. As dawn broke, the three Colonials stood in front of the Destroyer, prepared to enter it and begin their journey home. The two adults, three children and the two robots were there to say goodbye to them. "Well, Apollo, I guess this is it," Michael said, "Since you found out that Terra isn't the planet you were looking for, there isn't much chance of you our your people coming back here." "Not necessarily," Apollo said, "We're not through yet with your people, Michael. There are more questions we need answered, and more details we have to learn before we can make a final decision whether we should settle our people here or continue our journey elsewhere." "Maybe if we were to find out how your planet was settled, that could help us make our decision," Starbuck added, "But at the very least, we can make sure that you won't have anymore trouble from these Alliance creeps again. You'll be free to do what you can here on Paradeen." "Like meeting the other inhabitants who have been in hiding," Vector spoke up, "Master Russell told us of other families who live nearby but who have been too afraid to venture out. Now it will be safe to make contact with them and turn Paradeen into the kind of planet it should be again!" "And hopefully it will be a start of a new beginning," Apollo shook hands with Michael, "Godspeed." He stopped for only a brief instant to look Sarah in the eye and communicate the message that he forgave her. Her smile and nod of acknowledgment was all he needed to know. "I know we'll never forget any of you," Cassiopeia said as she prepared to go up the steps, "Take care. All of you." "With Vector and Hector to look after us, we're in good hands!" Michael waved, "Goodbye!" When the three Colonials entered the Destroyer and saw the grim expressions of the five Alliance prisoners, they found all of their smug bravado returning. "Well, well," Starbuck said as he moved to the front of the compartment and grinned at Leiter, "Looks like you didn't have a nice night." "Do not act so smug," Leiter put all the haughtiness he could into his voice. "One small victory does not win a war." "Well, let's just see you say that when you see the surprise we've got for you when we get back to our home." Apollo chuckled as he joined Starbuck up front and settled next to him in the pilot's seat. "Yeah," Starbuck didn't let up, "You might even want to switch sides." Leiter glared at him. "It is obvious you are not from the Nationalists and their puny force, and do not think I can be impressed with bluster from some unknown civilization. We are the most advanced military force in the galaxy." "Oh really?" Starbuck mused, "Sounds like you don't get to travel as much throughout the galaxy as you think you do. And if you're the most powerful, then I know we've got nothing to worry about. Right, Cass?" he called over to his girlfriend, who had seated herself in the rear of the compartment. "Right," she grinned back at him. "Okay," Apollo said as he looked at the instruments, "To business now. Activate power systems, and.....launch!" And then, the Alliance Destroyer, with only a slight amount of sluggishness, lifted off from the surface of Paradeen, leaving the people below with memories to carry with them for the rest of their lives. Another restless night had passed for Adama. And with it, more determination to stay sequestered in his quarters until some news arrived. One glance at his chronometer though, was enough to tell him that if nothing happened by day's end, he conceivably faced the greatest political crisis of his life since the Count Iblis affair. As he warily rubbed his temples, his video-com suddenly came on and Athena's eager voice filled the room. "Father! We've received a signal from Apollo and Starbuck! They're on their way back!" Adama darted his head over, "Are you sure of that?" "Positive confirmation! I spoke to them personally! But there was one curious thing. They said they weren't coming back in their vipers because they were damaged. They're coming back in....something else. And with prisoners too." "What?" this was an unexpected development. "Did they explain?" "No. They said they'd make a full report as soon as they arrived. ETA in one centar." "Thank you!" Adama wished he could reach out and hug his daughter, "I'll be waiting for them in Alpha Bay when they arrive." And then, Adama got up to pay a visit to Boxey's quarters so he cold tell the little boy his father was coming home. As they drew closer to the battlestar, Apollo had untied Krebs and at gunpoint forced him to take control of the ship for the more difficult landing operation. As soon as the sight of the Galactica came into view, the executive officer's jaw fell open in stunned disbelief. "Commandant," he whispered, "We're heading toward something bigger than anything I've ever seen." "Should we let him see it?" Cassiopeia had one of the Alliance guns trained on Leiter. "Sure," Starbuck grinned, "Why not?" Leiter, his hands still tied behind his back, rose and through the cockpit window could see the battlestar filling his entire field of vision. "Impossible," he said under his breath. "Now then," Apollo turned around to face him, enjoying the look on Leiter's face. "What was this you were saying about this invincible Alliance of yours?" For the first time in his life, Leiter had no answer. Two centars later, Apollo and Starbuck were in Adama's quarters giving him a complete briefing on what had happened to them on Paradeen. The first point they were quick to bring up was the map Starbuck had found in the Archives. "There's no room for error on this, Father?" Apollo asked. Adama shook his head, "None. There isn't anything remotely similar in this chart to the descriptions of Earth in the Book of the Word, the Testament of Arkada, and the information you received from those.....Beings. It's a lot easier for me to believe that Terra isn't connected to Earth than it is for me to believe that the very core of all that we believe in our holy writings is a fraud." "So where does that leave us?" Starbuck asked. "Will this matter to the Council?" "That's the unknown factor to deal with. They will not regard this news as a hopeful development, but.....they may just as easily decide that it makes no difference whether Terra is Earth or not." He shook his head, "And that may prove to be another disastrous path they'll have succeeded in setting us down upon." "How?" Apollo asked, "Does it make a difference, in the final analysis? Does it matter if the place we lead our people to is Earth or another human civilization? Irregardless of whether that human civilization is derived from the Thirteenth Tribe or not?" "You're asking good questions, Apollo," Adama said, "But there is something inside me that tells me that to even think of deviating from our journey toward the actual planet called Earth, and which we *know* the Thirteenth tribe reached, would amount to the greatest mistake we could make since the day we agreed to that phony peace treaty with the Cylons." "Well that brings up another point," Starbuck noted, "We can't take for granted the idea that the Cylons have given up looking for us. What if the Cylons eventually make their way to this quadrant and find this Terran civilization? It'd be another massacre all over again, because as ruthless as these Alliance people are, they'd be no match for half dozen fighters from a baseship, and neither would the good guys in this war. Maybe that's one other reason why we should consider settling. To save them from what might inevitably follow in our wake." "Let's dispense with this question of whether our destiny lies in this civilization or not for now," Adama held up a hand, "My more immediate problem is trying to figure out the nature of what this Alliance is, and the nature of this war taking place on Terra. At the very least, the Fleet is going to have to continue towards the center of this society on Terra for the time being until all questions pertaining to this civilization are dealt with." The video-com sounded and Adama answered it. He saw Dr. Salik's face staring back at him. "I've been waiting for your call, Dr. Salik," Adama said, "You had a chance to examine the prisoners?" "I did," the Chief Medical Officer nodded, "A total contrast to those other people. They have no trouble adapting to our own atmosphere. And they're also very fit from a physical standpoint. Not an ounce of fat or any signs of an improper diet." "Very good," Adama nodded, "Inform Colonial Security to begin processing them for temporary detainment on the Prison Barge." "Temporary?" Starbuck asked as Adama shut the vid-com off, "Kind of lenient, don't you think?" The Commander shook his head, "One thing we can't do Starbuck, is keep them detained permanently. They aren't guilty of any crimes against Colonial Civilization, and the only thing I want to do with them is to get whatever information we need and then find a proper way of releasing them." "They don't deserve it," Apollo said, "Not after what they did to Paradeen. You should have seen the ruins of that city. It was tragic." "I don't doubt you on that, Apollo. But if I don't handle this situation just right, I run a grave risk with some Council people who will be demanding a full report on this within a few centars." He leaned back in his chair, "That report of Salik's though about their ability to breathe our air tells us they certainly didn't come from Lunar Seven or else they would have needed to be put in pressure chambers right away just like Michael and Sarah." "So do you think they're from Terra, then?" Starbuck asked. "I think that most likely," the Commander nodded. "Well if they are, then they've got to be military foul-ups." "Why do you say that?" he raised an eyebrow. The blonde warrior shrugged, "Well, back in the Colonies the only warriors who caught outpost duty were the one who stepped on someone's toes." "As I recall, you're speaking from personal experience on that, aren't you, Starbuck?" Apollo couldn't resist. "Well, ah......" "Never mind," Adama smiled, glad for a little levity to break the tension, "I know what you mean, Starbuck, but I think you're wrong." "So do I," his son concurred, "That Destroyer we flew back may be small and slow compared to a viper, but even you saw how all the equipment in there was new. And new equipment doesn't go to incompetent warriors." "If they're competent warriors, Apollo, how'd they let themselves get fooled by a song and dance decoy from two robots?" Adama let out a guffaw, "I don't think I want to hear the explanation behind that, Starbuck. But regardless of how you were able to get the best of them, they show all signs of being crack warriors. Probably the equivalent of our Academy graduates. And if they're as oppressive and widespread as they appear, their best warriors would be on the frontier. Where they could act on their own initiative to further the goals of the Alliance." "Okay," Starbuck shrugged, "But where does that leave us in terms of dealing with them? Are we going to go in with guns blazing and all squadrons at the ready to get the Alliance to surrender and repent of the error of their ways?" "It's tempting," Adama conceded, "But.....I'm not prepared to do that at this time. I need more information from them, and more information as we get closer to Terra. Tomorrow, I intend to talk to this.....Commandant Leiter personally and see what I can get out of him." He rose and smiled, "In the meantime, the two of you get some well-earned rest. You've earned it after all you've been through." "That's one order I'll gladly take," Starbuck grinned, "Come on, Apollo. Buy you a drink in the Club." Apollo seemed reluctant to leave at first, but finally gave in and followed his friend out. Leaving his father alone to digest all of this information and assemble it for his pending presentation to the Council. At that particular moment though, nine members of the Council had no interest in what Adama was going to report to them. They had already made up their minds on a matter of great importance to them, and at this point nothing was going to change their thinking on it. "The votes are in," Siress Tinia said with an edge of triumph. "By a vote of nine to two, the Council declares the Carillon Statute granting sweeping powers to Commander Adama under a state of Martial Law to be revoked from this day forward, and that on all matters not pertaining to the military security of the Fleet, Council authority is hereby restored. An angry Sire Anton rose from his chair. "I consider this meeting and this vote to be a disgraceful demonstration of cowardice," the elderly sire hadn't been this angry since the memorable night when he had challenged Count Ibilis following the surrender of Baltar. "To do this behind Adama's back, after our word was given to him to wait for the results of this mission, is even more disgraceful than anything Adama is justly guilty of." "Sire Anton," Domra said coldly, "You saw firsthand how Adama treated us disgracefully only days ago by defying our duly elected edict. To let this go unpunished is to guarantee our very existence as a body, and insure that we are one step closer to a permanent dictatorship. While Adama has no such instincts, he creates a precedent that will surely enable his succssessor to become one, and we must not allow that." "You're not interested in the future, Domra," Anton stared piercingly at him, "You're only interested in the present, and increasing power for yourselves. I had hoped that when Sire Uri resigned from this body that we were rid of such opportunists forever. I seem to have assumed wrongly." And with that, the one-time Presidential aide then stormed out of the Council room. No sooner was he gone then did the man who had cast the other dissenting vote also rise from his chair. "I may not find myself willing to speak as harshly as my colleague, Sire Anton has done," young Sire Antipas said, "But I must find myself following his example at this time. I believe that there are too many dangerous questions raised by taking this action at such a grave moment in our journey, and that until a full report is given, this extraordinary action should not have been taken. Until further notice, I will not be attending any sessions of the Council as my statement of protest over this decision." And with that, the young Councilman who had replaced Uri on the body after the incident at Carillon, also left the chamber. "We are fortunate that the rest of us are of one voice on this subject," Tinia said, "We will permit Adama to make his report, and then see what his new attitude is in the face of that information. If the signs indicate that Adama is willing to work in a spirit of cooperation with us, then I will not hesitate to suggest that we keep the result of this vote.....unimplemented for the time being. However, should Adama indicate that he intends to continue acting in the reckless manner similar to his conduct of last sectan, then, and only then, should we feel compelled to use this resolution we have now approved against him. Are we agreed on that?" All of the heads at the table nodded in approval. "Very well. The Council now stands adjourned until further notice." (To Be Continued In-"Battlestar Galactica: Baltar's Escape)