BATTLESTAR GALACTICA
                   "A Ghost From The Past"
                             by
                      Michael Passmore
                              
                              
                         Chapter One
                              
  Even though the GALACTICA had not encountered any trace of
Cylon pursuit for almost two yahrens, the battlestar's Viper
pilots refused to feel any sense of complacency while flying
reconnaissance missions.  Even the most lackadaisical of
pilots stayed on guard while on patrol.  Although Cylon
pursuit continued to remain a distant memory, there was
always the possibility that a patrol could encounter their
old enemies again. There was also the possibility of meeting
new adversaries or potential allies, or perhaps even
discovering a fragment of a clue that could lead the
Colonial Fleet to its ultimate destination: the planet
Earth.
  Throughout their military careers, Colonel Apollo and
Flight Sergeant Giles had both flown more patrols than they
could even begin to remember.  While the vast majority of
the missions they had flown ended uneventfully, they could
each remember many times when patrols had left them scared
almost witless.  Both pilots held firm to the belief that
while on patrol, a pilot should hope for the best but be
more than prepared for an encounter with the worst.
  A star system appeared on the scanner screen in the
cockpit of Apollo's Viper.  Although he was certain the same
system was registering on Giles' scanners, the colonel
nevertheless called out to his partner.
  "Giles," he announced, "I'm picking up a star system at
bearing three-five-two point eight-three by negative
seventeen point six-two degrees."
  "I've got it, too," Giles responded.  "Six planets
orbiting a single Class Three star."
  "Let's angle over and take a look," Apollo said.
  "You got it," Giles replied.
  As the two Vipers approached the system, the pilots
decelerated and activated their close range scans and
sensors to conduct a more thorough survey of the area.
  "Looks clear so far," Apollo commented, "but we'd better
check out that fourth planet more closely.  Looks like it
could be capable of supporting life."
  "Sure would be nice if the planet was peaceful enough to
allow some R and R for the fleet," Giles said as he steered
his Viper toward the fourth planet.  "I've been hearing
stories on IFB lately about people going stir-crazy from
being stuck on ships for so long."
  "I'm surprised people have managed to keep their sanity as
long as they have," Apollo commented.  "Most people haven't
even been able to leave their ships since Carillon."
  A blip indicating a stationary object behind the fourth
planet appeared on their scanners.
  "Colonel. . ." Giles called out.
  "I see it," Apollo responded.  "Blip signature indicates a
spacecraft.  Switching to Warbook.  Keep an eye on it while
I try to identify it."
  As Apollo switched his scanner to Warbook mode, he
realized that the spacecraft identification system was
becoming obsolete since the program primarily consisted of
spacecraft known to the Colonies before the Holocaust.
  Apollo was not surprised to find that the Warbook could
not identify the spacecraft ahead.  However, he was stunned
to see that the triangular-shaped vessel bore many
characteristics common to vehicles belonging to an
interstellar civilization the man hoped he would never
encounter again.
  "Frack," Apollo swore to himself.
  "What is it?" Giles asked urgently.  He knew that when
Apollo cursed, something serious had come up.
  "It's a Cylon ship," Apollo sighed, trying to keep alarm
out of his voice.
  "Holy frack," Giles gasped.
  "It appears to be a new type of fighter," the colonel
said.  "I don't see any other signs of other Cylon ships in
the vicinity, though."
  "What do we do?" Giles asked.  Although he knew that he'd
blast the Cylon fighter if he were calling the shots, the
decision as to how the warriors should respond was up to
Apollo.
  Apollo let out a deep breath.
  "Let's shoot it down," he finally responded.
  "I was hoping you'd say that!" Giles laughed as he engaged
his Viper's turbos and rocketed ahead to engage the lone
Cylon fighter.
  "Giles, wait up!" Apollo snapped in annoyance as he
engaged his own turbos.
  Giles was too far ahead of Apollo to permit the colonel to
catch up with the sergeant, so all the man could do was hope
that Giles could handle eliminating the Cylon fighter alone.
Apollo nevertheless activated his Viper's targeting systems
and charged the turbolasers just in case Giles needed
assistance.  As Giles closed in on the Cylon fighter, Apollo
directed the scanner to begin recording combat performance
data on the new enemy spacecraft.
  The Cylon fighter remained stationary, seemingly oblivious
to the approach of the Colonial Vipers.
  "The little metal snitrads aren't even going to TRY to
make this an interesting fight," Giles laughed as he
targeted the Cylon fighter.  Just as Giles was about to
depress his control stick firing button and incinerate the
enemy, the Cylon craft suddenly powered up its flight and
weapons systems and immediately pivoted to bring its guns to
bear upon the sergeant's approaching fighter.
  "Giles, look out!" Apollo yelled out in warning as he
watched the Cylon craft turn toward his wingmate's Viper.
Two brilliant blue-white beams of light pulsed out of the
bow of the Cylon fighter and instantaneously burned their
way through the fuselage of Giles' Viper.  Apollo watched
helplessly as the sergeant's Viper erupted into a brilliant
fireball before disappearing.
  "GILES!" he cried out in stunned horror.
  Before Apollo could even react, Cylon laser blasts
streaked through the space around his Viper.  As the colonel
initiated evasive action, three blasts grazed his Viper.  By
the time he swung his Viper around to retreat, the enemy
fighter blasted away the Viper's wing-mounted turbolasers
with a precision previously unknown of Cylon pilots.
  Apollo desperately tried to evade the pursuing Cylon, but
the enemy craft stubbornly remained on the colonel's tail.
Several more shots grazed Apollo's Viper.
  For the first time in yahrens, Apollo felt true fear in
combat.  As he continued unsuccessfully to elude his
determined pursuer, the colonel could not help but think
that he was finally about to die.  A part of his mind railed
against the unfairness of his impending death.  He had
survived Cimtar and the Holocaust.  Carillon and Kobol.
Equellus and Arcta.  The battles on and around Gamoray.  The
confrontation with Count Iblis.  Paradeen and Terra.  The
mutiny aboard the CELESTRA.  The seemingly suicidal
infiltration of a Cylon base star.  How ironic, he felt,
that he could survive though the overwhelming odds of those
events only to meet his doom at the hands of ONE Cylon
fighter.
  Even as he continued desparately to evade the remarkably
agile Cylon fighter, Apollo thought about those he would
soon be leaving behind.  His adopted son Boxey.  His father
Adama and his sister Athena.  Starbuck and Boomer, whom he
loved like brothers.  Tigh, whom he loved like an uncle.
And Sheba, whom he fallen in love with a long time ago.  He
found it sad that he had never developed the courage to act
upon his feelings for her.  Now it was too late.
  Apollo suddenly realized that he had better send a warning
message back to the GALACTICA before his time ran out.  He
activated his long-range communicator.
  "Recon One Leader to GALACTICA!" he called out.
"Emergency!  Am under heavy attack by a new type of Cylon
fighter!"
  A hauntingly familiar feminine voice coming from the
pursuing Cylon fighter echoed through the speakers in
Apollo's flight helmet and sent a powerful chill racing
through the man's entire body.
  "They call it the Marauder," the enemy pilot said with
unmistakable malevolence.
  Apollo could not believe his ears.  Except for his small
collection of audio/video mementos, the colonel had not
heard the voice of this woman for almost four yahrens.  Not
since she had died a few centars after being fatally wounded
by Cylon rifle fire on the surface of the planet Kobol.
  "S-SERINA?" Apollo gasped, unable to fully accept what was
happening yet equally unable to deny it either.
  "You remembered me," the Cylon fighter's pilot replied
disdainfully.  "How sweet of you."
  "This can't be!" Apollo said, still stunned.  "You're
supposed to be--"
  "Dead?" the voice of Serina laughed humorlessly.  "Not
quite.  Although you came very close to succeeding in
killing me."
  "What in KOBOL are you talking about?" Apollo demanded,
thoroughly confused.
  The Cylon fighter fired another laser burst that grazed
the belly of Apollo's Viper.  Sparks erupted from the floor
of the cockpit and showered the colonel's boots and
trousers.
  "I ought to kill you right now for that," the voice of
Serina spat.
  For the first time since coming under fire, Apollo
regained his senses.  This is a Cylon trick, he thought.  It
HAS to be.
  As he ran through another series of unsuccessful evasive
maneuvers, Apollo activated his sensors to scan the pursuing
Cylon fighter.  The scanner screen flashed information that
Apollo did not want to believe:  LIFEFORM HUMAN. . .HUMAN. .
.HUMAN. . .HUMAN. . . .  He scanned the fighter again and
came up with the same result.  A human was piloting the
Cylon fighter.  A HUMAN!
  "NOW do you believe me?" the voice of Serina asked.
"Scanners do not lie."
  Through a renewed whirlwind of astonishment and confusion
that seemed to be tearing his brain apart, scores of
questions suddenly flashed through Apollo's mind.
  "WHY are you doing this, Serina?" he finally managed to
ask.  "WHY are you working for the Cylons?"
  "Because, my dear Apollo," the voice of Serina laughed
venomously, "they've given me an opportunity to do something
I've been wanting to do for a very long time now:  KILL
YOU."
  "But--" Apollo began.
  "Don't worry, Captain," the voice of Serina interrupted,
addressing him by his former rank.  "I'm not going to kill
you now.  I want you to have a little time to think about
all you've done to me.  I want you to think long and hard
about it.  I want you to lose sleep wondering when I'm
finally going to get you.  I want you to feel absolute
terror wondering when and where I'll strike.  THEN, I'll
kill you.  Until then. . ."
  In a motion of agility unseen in previous models of Cylon
combat spacecraft, the enemy fighter spun around and
rocketed away from the shaken Apollo as it headed rapidly
out of the system.
  Apollo felt himself breathe for the first time in what
seemed like centars.  As he numbly watched the scanner image
of Serina's fighter continue to move away from his position,
his hands shook from the terror he felt during the fight.
  His mind was absolutely overwhelmed by the events of the
past few centons.  The entire fight had suddenly taken on a
surreal quality.  He felt as though he had just seen a
ghost.
  Perhaps he had, he thought.  Or perhaps he had fallen
victim to an elaborate Cylon trick.  Or perhaps it was
really Serina somehow back from the dead and now, for some
unfathomable reason, was seeking vengeance against him.
  One thing was certain to the colonel.  He would not find
any answers to his questions right now.  He needed to return
to the GALACTICA and report what had just happened to him
and Giles.
  Still pale and shaking and soaked in perspiration, Colonel
Apollo set a course for his battlestar and rocketed out of
the system.

  In order to alleviate fatigue from repititious duty,
GALACTICA Bridge personnel rotated tasks three times through
the course of their shifts.  The newly promoted Sergeant
Rigel, once again back on "day" shift after spending a
little more than two yahrens on "night" duty, had just
transferred scanning to Corporal Karreth and had received
the duty to monitor space traffic communications from
Corporal Delconno.
  Rigel was readjusting her headset when a very familiar,
yet thoroughly distraught voice roared through her receiver.
  "Recon One Leader to GALACTICA!" came the unmistakable
voice of Flight Colonel Apollo.  "Emergency!  Am under heavy
attack by a new type of Cylon fighter!"
  "Oh, frack!" Rigel gasped.  She wasted no time seeking
assistance with the problem.  She spun out of her chair and
rose to feet as she looked up at Colonel Tigh on the
Bridge's command platform.
  "Colonel!" she called out, trying to remain calm but not
succeeding.
  "What is it?" Colonel Tigh asked as he turned and gazed
down at the sergeant.
  "Emergency message from Colonel Apollo," Rigel reported.
  "What kind of emergency?" Tigh asked.
  "It was a brief message," Rigel replied, "but he reported
being under attack by Cylons."
  "CYLONS?" Tigh asked, stunned.  He had hoped that the
destruction of the base star two yahrens ago would mark the
Fleet's last encounter with the robotic enemy.
  "Yes, Sir," Rigel nodded.
  "Felgercarb," Tigh cursed quitely before saying "Transfer
that message up here, and continue monitoring for additional
signals."
  "Yes, Sir," Rigel nodded as she sat down and turned back
to her console.
  Tigh turned to Captain Omega.
  "Sound battle stations," he commanded.  "Bring the Fleet
to a complete stop.  Issue emergency recall orders to all
patrols."  The colonel then keyed the battlestar's internal
communications system.  "Commander Adama, report to the
Bridge!"
  "I'm here, Tigh," came Adama's voice from behind as the
commander entered the Bridge.  "What's going on?"
  "Colonel Apollo's patrol ran into Cylons," Tigh said as he
turned to face the commander.
  "Cylons?" Adama repeated, visibly stunned.
  "Yes, Sir," the colonel nodded.
  Adama lowered his head and let out a loud breath.
  "I thought we were finally rid of them. . ." he sighed.
  "So did I, Commander," Tigh replied. "So did I."
  Adama quickly reverted back to his trademark business-like
manner.
  "What's our status?" he asked.
  "The Fleet is coming to a stop," Tigh reported, "and I've
put the GALACTICA on full alert.  I've also issued a recall
to all our patrols."
  "Good," Adama nodded.
  Omega spoke up from his console.
  "I've analyzed the message from Colonel Apollo," he said.
"It appears the signal originated from a star system roughly
five point three parsecs ahead at bearing three-four-seven
point six-eight by negative thirteen point seven-two
degrees."
  "Good work, Omega," Adama nodded.  "Would you please
replay that message from Apollo?"
  As Omega replayed the message, Adama and Tigh listened
intently to the colonel's recorded words.
  "A new type of Cylon fighter. . ." Adama mused.
  "Shall we launch Vipers to assist?" Tigh asked.
  "As much as I'd like to, Colonel," Adama sighed, "we can't
spare the Vipers.  If the Cylons attack, especially with a
force of advanced fighters, we'll need every one of our
Vipers to defend the Fleet."
  Tigh could not argue with Adama's reasoning.  If the
Cylons had indeed mass-produced a new fighter superior to
the Viper, the GALACTICA's pilots would be hard pressed to
stop a determined enemy assault.
  "Who was scheduled to fly that patrol with Apollo?" Adama
asked.
  "Flight Sergeant Giles," Tigh answered.
  Adama nodded.  Giles, one of the few pilots of the
battlestar ACROPOLIS to survive Cimtar, was an excellent
pilot.  Still, the commander found himself wishing that
Starbuck or Boomer or Sheba had been assigned to pull this
patrol with his son instead.
  Centons passed as the GALACTICA's command officers waited
for clues that Apollo had survived his confrontation with
the Cylon fighter.  For Adama, who had already lost a son to
the Cylons, each passing centon felt like a yahren.
  Omega spoke up.
  "Patrols Three, Five, Six and Eight are returning," the
officer announced.  "Two, Four and Seven should be coming
into range shortly.  Still no sign of. . ."  Omega could not
bring himself to complete the sentence.
  "Thank you," Adama nodded.  "As soon as the other patrols
land, get them refueled and ready to launch again."
  "Yes, Sir," Omega nodded.
  Several more centons passed without any sign of Apollo's
patrol returning.  Adama was resigning himself to the fact
that his eldest son was more than likely dead.
  "Recon Two approaching," Omega announced.  "That's the
last of our patrols except for Colonel Apollo's."
  Adama could only nod sadly.  Colonel Tigh, in one of his
rare public displays of affection to his old friend, placed
a comforting hand on Adama's shoulder.
  "Don't give up hope, Adama," the man said softly.  "I'm
sure Apollo will make it."
  Adama nodded, but he could not shake the feeling that his
only surviving son was gone.

  Captain Starbuck was agitated as he and his Recon Two
wingmate Lieutenant Jolly hurried back to the GALACTICA in
response to the emergency recall.  There were only two
reasons why the battlestar would issue such a recall.
Either one of the patrols had encountered evidence of Cylon
pursuit, or a patrol had discovered a new threat to the
Fleet.  Neither prospect appealed to the captain.
  "I'd really like to know what in Kobol is going on," Jolly
muttered aloud.
  "This is the SEVENTH time you've asked that, Jolly,"
Starbuck snapped.  "And for the seventh time, I DON'T know."
  "Take it easy, Starbuck," Jolly said, wounded by the
sharpness of Starbuck's reply.
  Starbuck could not blame Jolly for his curiousity, for the
captain himself felt the same burning desire to know what
was going on.  He decided to contact the battlestar and see
if he could obtain any information.
  "Recon Two Leader to GALACTICA," Starbuck called out to
his base ship.
  "Go ahead, Recon Two," came the response from Sergeant
Rigel on the battlestar's Bridge.
  "Can you tell me what's going on?" the captain asked.
  "Hang on a micron," Rigel replied.
  The next voice Starbuck heard over his communicator was
that of Commander Adama.
  "Colonel Apollo's patrol ran into trouble," the commander
said.
  "Is he all right?" Starbuck asked apprehensively.
  "We don't know," Adama replied.  "We received a brief
message from Apollo reporting that he was under attack by a
new type of Cylon fighter.  We've had no word from him
since."
  "CYLONS?" Starbuck gasped.
  "Oh, GREAT," Jolly sighed.
  "Get back aboard the GALACTICA, refuel and prepare to
launch again," Adama commanded.  "We could be facing
imminent Cylon attack."
  "On our way," Starbuck replied.
  As Starbuck and Jolly accelerated toward the battlestar,
Adama's voice once again came through over the captain's
communicator.
  "Starbuck," the commander said, "we've detected a single
Viper approaching.  It's definitely from Recon One, but we
can't communicate with it.  Telemetry indicates the Viper is
heavily damaged."
  "Is it Apollo or Giles?" Starbuck asked urgently.
  "Unknown," Adama replied.  "The Viper's transponder isn't
working, so we can't identify it.  Do you and Jolly have
enough fuel to escort that Viper in?"
  Starbuck checked his fuel gauge.  His fighter was down to
almost a third of a tank of fuel.  Just barely enough.
  "Barely," Starbuck reported.
  "We're transferring the coordinates of the incoming Viper
to you now," Adama said.  "As soon as you get your vectors,
move to intercept and escort that Viper in."
  "Got it," Starbuck replied.  "Vector coordinates received.
Moving to intercept."
  Starbuck and Jolly angled their Vipers on an intercept
course for the incoming Recon One Viper.

  Apollo could not stop his hands from shaking.  Although
several centons had passed since his encounter with the
Cylon fighter piloted by Serina, he still felt the same
level of fear he had experienced during the fight.  Although
by no means a coward, the colonel was alarmed by the level
of fear he felt following his harrowing encounter.  Perhaps
it was due to the fact that he had rarely felt as close to
dying as he had during the fight with Serina's fighter.  Or
perhaps it was from facing an opponent who turned out to be
a woman he thought had died four yahrens ago.  Perhaps it
was a combination of the two.  Whatever it was that was
causing his fear, he knew that he had to overcome it soon or
it would end up overpowering him and making his death in
combat even more likely.
  "Recon One Leader to GALACTICA," he spoke into his helmet
communicator.  No response again.  Apparently his Viper's
communicator had fallen prey to collateral damage, but with
his fighter's internal damage assessment program ruined by
one of Serina's laser hits, the colonel had no way of
telling.
  His scanner detected two objects ahead approaching his
position at high speed, but battle damage prevented the
system from identifying the vehicles.  Since he was now well
within the GALACTICA's scanner range, the colonel was
certain the objects were Vipers.
  "Recon One Leader to incoming Vipers," he called out, but
received no response.  Two Vipers suddenly streaked past,
swung around and took up escort positions on each side of
Apollo's crippled machine.  Apollo could make out the faces
of Starbuck and Jolly in the cockpits of the escorts.
  "Can you guys hear me?" he addressed his escorts.  Again,
no response.  Apollo turned his head to Starbuck's Viper and
tapped his helmet with his fingers, indicating that
apparently his communicator was malfunctioning.  Starbuck
nodded understanding.

  Starbuck was shocked to see the extent of damage to
Apollo's Viper, and wondered how the colonel's fighter
managed to survive its encounter with the Cylons.  Starbuck
keyed in a damage assessment of Apollo's Viper and found
that most of the fighter's systems had suffered damage.
  "It'll take a miracle for him to land a Viper in that
shape and survive," Jolly commented, openly expressing what
Starbuck was thinking to himself.  Nevertheless, the
statement irritated the captain.
  "Thank you for your OPTIMISTIC appraisal of the situation,
Jolly," Starbuck growled in a voice heavy with sarcasm.  He
then contacted the GALACTICA.
  "Apollo's Viper is heavily damaged," the captain reported
to the battlestar.  "His communicator is out, and it appears
that his landing gear controls are shorted out as well.
Better clear the deck and have emergeny crews standing by."
  "Acknowledged," came Rigel's response from the GALACTICA.
"Alpha bay is standing by to receive."
  "Got it," Starbuck replied.  "I'll guide him in."
  Starbuck turned his head toward Apollo's Viper and gave a
hand signal Colonial pilots used to signal "Follow me."  As
Apollo nodded acknowledgement of the signal, Starbuck
accelerated to take up a position ahead of his friend's
wounded Viper.

  Captain Sheba found herself growing impatient for the
GALACTICA's Bridge to either issue a launch order or give
the command for all the pilots to stand down.  The cramped
Viper cockpit was beginning to give the woman a sense of
claustrophobia.  And knowing that her friend Apollo had run
into trouble while out on patrol only escalated her sense of
unease.
  Feelings of helplessness were never easy for Sheba to
accept, despite the numerous times throughout her life when
she had experienced such emotions.  She had stood by
helplessly while her mother suffered through the rare but
untreatable disease that eventually claimed the woman's
life.  She had helplessly watched as her widower father
became, as she felt at the time, disgustingly involved with
the "lowly" socialator Cassiopeia.  She had felt helpless in
stopping the Cylons from obliterating the Fifth Mobile Star
Fleet at Molecay.  She had been helpless in stopping her
father from engaging and apparently perishing under the fire
of two Cylon base stars at Gamoray.  Now her friend Apollo
was in mortal danger, and she could do nothing but wait
helplessly for him to return--if he survived.  For all she
knew, Apollo could already be dead.
  A klaxon blared through Flight Bay Alpha, and Sheba
immediately recognized the meaning of the alarm.  A
spacecraft was about to make an emergency landing.  She
realized that it had to be Apollo or Giles guiding a damaged
Viper in for an emergency landing.  Through her transparent
cockpit canopy, Sheba could see emergency vehicles racing
for the landing strip at the aft section of Alpha bay.
  She decided to get some information from the Bridge.
  "Sheba to Bridge," she called out over her communicator.
  "Bridge here," came Rigel's voice.
  "Who's coming in for landing?" she asked.
  "It's Colonel Apollo," Rigel answered.
  "What's his situation?" Sheba demanded.
  "His Viper is heavily damaged," the sergeant replied.
"Captain Starbuck is guiding him in.  He should be aboard in
approximately five centons."
  Omega's voice sounded over her helmet speakers.
  "All pilots stand down," the Bridge officer said.
"Repeat: all pilots are to stand down, but maintain alert
status."
  Sheba wasted no time in shutting down her Viper's flight
systems and opening her cockpit canopy.  She hurriedly
climbed out of the Viper without even bothering to remove
her helmet and sprinted toward the Alpha bay landing strip.
She only hoped that she would be able to personally greet
Apollo upon his safe return to the battlestar instead of
watching him die in a crash landing.

  Starbuck guided Apollo's crippled Viper toward the
GALACTICA's Alpha bay, then dropped back beside his friend's
fighter.  The captain then motioned to Apollo to proceed
toward the landing strip.
Apollo nodded, then gave a weak "thumbs up" salute.
Starbuck returned the gesture while saying "Good luck, ol'
buddy. . ." before he and Jolly veered off to give Apollo a
wide berth on his emergency approach.
  Apollo found that he could not decelerate his Viper to the
recommended emergency approach velocity.  With no functional
landing gear or guidance system, and his Viper approaching
the battlestar's landing bay at three times the velocity
proscribed for NORMAL landings, Apollo realized that his
chances of surviving were indeed slim.  He wished that his
communicator was functioning so that he could at least say
goodbye to his friends and family aboard the GALACTICA
should he not survive the landing.
  "Here goes nothing. . ." he said aloud as he guided his
Viper toward what he assumed was the correct landing angle.
  It was not the correct angle.  Apollo's Viper slammed into
the deck, and the force of the collision ripped off the
fighter's wings with a furious explosion of metal fragments
and sparks.  The Viper's metallic hull screamed from
friction with the landing strip as it careened toward the
emergency restraint curtain.  Apollo closed his eyes in a
strictly reflex action as the collision with the curtain
approached.

  Sheba watched in horror as Apollo's Viper slammed into the
deck and skidded out of control toward the restraint
curtain.  She held her breath as the fighter hurtled into
the curtain and was stopped abruptly by the incredibly
strong material.  After several long microns, her worry was
replaced by elation as the cockpit canopy of Apollo's Viper
slowly popped open.
  "Sheba to Bridge," she called out joyfully into her helmet
communicator.  "He made it!  Apollo made it!"
  Sheba could hear the cheers of the Bridge crew in the
background as a concerned Adama's voice asked, "Is Apollo
all right, Sheba?"
  "He's appears shaken up," Sheba replied, happy and
relieved, "but at least he's alive!"
  "Thank the Lords," Adama replied.  "Thank the--"
  Sheba didn't wait to hear the rest of the commander's
comments, for she had removed her helmet as she began
running toward the wrecked Viper.  She could see that Apollo
was just now slowly climbing out of the cockpit with the
assistance of the emergency ground crew.
  A ground crew technician grabbed Sheba's arm as she ran
past him and stopped the woman in her tracks.
  "Let go of me, sergeant!" she yelled.
  "Sorry, ma'am," the sergeant replied,  "but that Viper
could still explode.  It's not safe."
  "I said, let GO!" Sheba growled as she jerked her arm away
from the sergeant.  Free of the technician's grip, the woman
rushed over to Apollo.
  "Thank the Lords you're all right!" Sheba exclaimed as she
threw her arms around Apollo.  Apollo did not return the
embrace.  He merely stood there, and Sheba could feel his
body trembling..
  Knowing something was amiss, Sheba released Apollo, then
stepped back as she looked into the man's haggard face.  She
had never before seen him look so distraught.
  "Apollo?" she asked, concerned.  "What's wrong?  You look
like you've seen a ghost."
  "I'm not so sure I didn't," Apollo sighed, his voice
shaky.
  "What in Hades did you run into out there?" Sheba asked,
confused.
  Apollo hesitated before answering.
  "Serina," he finally said.  "I ran into Serina out there."


                         Chapter Two
                              
  The IL-series Cylon named Lucifer gazed in electronic
satisfaction as he watched the Marauder execute a flawless
landing upon the deck of the base star's flight bay.  As the
pilot shut down the experimental fighter's flight systems,
the triangular vehicle's trio of engines shut down with a
mechanical whine that echoed throughout the cavernous
chamber.  Microns later, a hatch at the bottom of the
Marauder opened with a gasp of equalizing air pressure.
With a whine of hydraulics, a retractable ladder descended
from the interior of the fighter down to the deck below.
Once the ladder was fully extended, the pilot of the
Marauder climbed down the ladder and stepped onto the deck.
  The pilot of the experimental fighter was not the typical
silver-armored Centurion-series Cylon.  This pilot was clad
in a form-fitting green uniform of the same style worn by
the base star's previous commander, the human traitor
Baltar.  The Marauder pilot was human as well, but for some
inexplicable reason, Lucifer found the curvaceous figure of
this female human more aesthetically pleasing to his visual
receptors than Baltar's male form.  The IL-series Cylon made
a mental note to one day explore the concept of what made
one human more aesthetically pleasing than another of the
same species.
  The Marauder pilot walked up to Lucifer and bowed
slightly.
  "By your command," the pilot spoke respectfully with the
ancient Cylon verbal salute.
  "Speak, Serina," Lucifer replied.  The IL-series Cylon
took great pleasure in being able to give this command to a
human.
  "I encountered two Colonial Vipers in the S-K Nine-five-
seven Star System," Serina reported dutifully as she pulled
a strand of long brown hair away from her eyes.
  "Was Captain Apollo a member of this patrol?" Lucifer
asked.
  "Yes, Commander," Serina replied.
  "Did you engage the Vipers?" Lucifer asked eagerly.
  "Yes, Commander, I did," Serina nodded.  "I destroyed one
Viper piloted by a human named Giles.  I then proceeded to
inflict serious damage to Apollo's Viper before I allowed
him to escape."
  "You ALLOWED Apollo to escape?" Lucifer asked,
incredulous.
  "I'm sorry, Commander," Serina replied.  "I couldn't bring
myself to kill him just yet."
  "Our understanding was that you were to eliminate Apollo
at the first available opportunity," Lucifer said with a
tone that could best be described as an electronic sigh of
disappointment.
  "Explain yourself," Lucifer demanded gently.  The IL-
series was careful to maintain the tone a "loving" parent
would use toward a disobedient young offspring.
  "When I had a positive lethal target lock on Apollo's
Viper," Serina explained, "I began to remember all of the
horrible things he did to me when we were married.  The
beatings.  The verbal assaults. . ."  The professional
demeanor of the woman suddenly evaporated.  Her voice began
to crack and tears welled up in her eyes.  "The. . .the
times he raped me.  All the humiliations he inflicted upon
me. . . ."
  "Yes," Lucifer replied in a sympathetic voice.  "You
suffered greatly under Apollo.  But I fail to understand why
these horrible events would not compel you to obtain your
revenge against your tormentor."
  Serina looked back into Lucifer's illuminated face with a
newfound conviction.
  "I want him to suffer as I did," she replied fervently.  "
I want him to feel the same fear I used to feel wondering
when he'd start hurting me again.  I want him to be just as
afraid of me as I was of him.  THEN, I'll kill him."
  "The likelihood that you will again encounter Apollo one-
on-one is low," Lucifer said.  "My understanding of the
captain is that he is what you humans call a 'bully.'  He is
very brave when he is in a position of superiority, but
cowers under the threat of equal or greater force.  I am
certain Apollo will never again leave himself as vulnerable
to your vengeance as he did today."
  "I believe I can draw him out eventually," Serina replied
confidently.  "I intend to attack more Viper patrols, then
issue him a challenge to face me alone."
  "Your plan seems foolhardy at best, Serina," Lucifer
commented.  "Your desire for long, drawn-out revenge may
ultimately doom you."
  "I HAVE to do this my way, Commander," Serina said firmly.
"If it sounds melodramatic to you, then I apologize.  But I
cannot just kill Apollo without first trying to gain some
satisfaction out of the terror I'm inflicting upon him.  He
DESERVES to be afraid for once."
  "I suppose I have no choice but to allow you free reign to
deal with Apollo as you see fit," Lucifer conceded.
  "No, Commander, you don't," Serina replied firmly but
respectfully.  "But don't worry.  I'll eliminate Apollo soon
enough."
  "Very well, then," Lucifer conceded.  "When do you plan on
setting the next phase of your plan into motion?"
  "As soon as I can refuel my fighter," Serina replied.
  "Very well, then," Lucifer said.  "I shall not detain you
any further.  You may go."
  "By your command," Serina smiled.

  "I'm telling you it was Serina!" Apollo's agitated voice
and the report of his fist banging on the conference table
echoed throughout the GALACTICA's Briefing Room.  Adama,
Tigh, Starbuck, Boomer, Sheba and Bojay winced at the
colonel's display of temper.
  "It's not that we don't believe you, Apollo," Starbuck
said in his best disarming tone.  "It's just that this whole
thing seems so . . ."  The captain could not maintain his
train of thought, so he fell silent.
  "Bizarre?" Captain Bojay spoke up with a shrug.
  The glare Apollo shot Bojay almost froze the Gold Squadron
captain's heart.
  "You have to understand how we are viewing this situation,
Apollo," Tigh spoke up.  "You'd be just as naturally
skeptical if I came to you and told you I'd suddenly seen MY
dead wife.  Or if Adama told you he'd just seen Ila.  Or if-
-"
  "I GET what you're saying, Colonel," Apollo interrupted
sharply.  "But I'm NOT going insane!"
  "Son," Adama said gently, "no one is accusing you of going
insane."
  "You could have fooled me," Apollo growled.
  "Apollo," Sheba spoke up, "I know you believe you
encountered Serina.  You wouldn't make something like that
up.  But is it possible that you could have been tricked by
the Cylons?"
  "If it was a trick," Apollo replied coldly, "it was the
most elaborate Cylon stunt I've seen since their phony peace
proposal."
  "Is it possible though, right?" Starbuck asked gently.
  Apollo shook his head and sighed.
  "I don't think the Cylons could have developed the
technology to perfectly replicate Serina's voice AND come up
with a way to fool my scanner into showing that there was a
human flying that Marauder," he said.
  "IBLIS!" Captain Boomer suddenly exclaimed.
  The GALACTICA officers turned to the Red Squadron captain.
  "Could this be some trick of Count Iblis?" Boomer asked
excitedly.  "A way of getting even with Apollo for ruining
his plan of gaining control over the Fleet?"
  "That WOULD make sense, you know," Starbuck nodded.
"Iblis' people DO have the ability to raise the dead. . ."
  "I read in mythology a long time ago that before the gods
destroy someone, they first make him go insane," Sheba
added.  "Apollo, this could be Iblis' plan:  ruin you by
first making you go crazy."
  "It's not Iblis," Apollo replied firmly.
  "And how can you be so sure?" Tigh asked cautiously.
  Apollo let out an exasperated breath.
  "It just doesn't make sense to me for Iblis to go all the
way back to Kobol, find Serina in her coffin, revive her,
fill her head with enough felgercarb to make her want to
kill me, then drag her all the way out here in a new Cylon
fighter and turn her loose to come gunning for me," he said.
  "Unless it was Iblis himself," Starbuck commented.  "He
does have the ability to alter his appearance, so I don't
see why he couldn't alter his voice as well to sound like
Serina."
  Apollo shook his head.
  "It's NOT Iblis," he said adamantly.
  "I believe Apollo is right," Adama said.  "Iblis relies
upon subterfuge to fulfill his needs, but even this seems
too elaborate a plot to me."
  "We'd know more about what happened to you out there if
you hadn't spread half your Viper all over Alpha bay in that
crash landing," Starbuck commented to Apollo with a shrug.
"Whatever scanner information you picked up during your run-
in was lost when you wrecked your Viper."
  "Why don't we send a patrol back to that system and see if
we can find that fighter again?" Bojay asked.
  "That Marauder would cut a patrol to pieces," Apollo
replied.
  "If it's even still there," Tigh commented.
  "We COULD send in a whole squadron," Boomer shrugged.  "If
that Marauder is back, even as superior as that fighter
seems, it CAN'T be good enough to take on a whole group of
Vipers."
  "I agree," Starbuck added.
  "I do, too," Sheba nodded.
  "Me, too," Bojay agreed.
  "And what if you encounter a larger Cylon force there?"
Adama asked.
  "Then we get our astrums out of there," Starbuck shrugged.
"But maybe, just maybe, we can solve the mystery about
Serina and pick up important data about this new fighter at
the same time."
  "I can't argue with that, I guess," Tigh spoke up.
  "I can," Adama replied, "but Starbuck is right.  We do
need to acquire more intelligence about this new Cylon
fighter before we eventually face a whole phalanx of them."
  "Then it's settled," Starbuck smiled.  "I'll take Blue
Squadron out to investigate and see if we can come up with
anything."
  "I'll come along, too," Apollo said.
  "Not a chance, ol' buddy," Starbuck said as he shook his
head.  "You've been through enough for one day."
  "Starbuck is right," Adama said before Apollo could
object.  "Apollo, I need you to remain here on the GALACTICA
and try to piece together enough of the scanner data about
that new fighter as you can remember.  If you need to,
enlist the aid of Doctor Wilker and our staff of flight
engineers."
  "I'll help you, Apollo," Sheba volunteered.  As much as
she'd like to accompany Blue Squadron on its fact-finding
mission, she knew Apollo needed her more right here on the
GALACTICA with him.
  "Anyone have anything else to add to this meeting?" Adama
asked.
  No one appeared to be able to think of anything else to
add to the topic of conversation.
  "Very well, then," Adama nodded.  "Starbuck, assemble your
squadron and launch immediately.  As for the rest of you,"
he added, "maintain your squadron's readiness in case the
Cylons mount an attack.  Dismissed."
  The GALACTICA officers rose to their feet and exited the
Briefing Room.  Apollo and Sheba remained behind.  Both
gazed intently into each other's faces, and they both wanted
to say something important to each other, but neither had
the courage to speak up at the moment.  As if reaching a
silent mutual agreement to discuss the matter later when the
crisis at hand was over, they both headed for the Briefing
Room exit.

  As a haggard Apollo walked out of the Briefing Room, he
found someone waiting for him.
  "Hiya, Dad!" Boxey exclaimed.  The boy's ubiquitous
companion, the mechanical daggit Muffit II, "barked"
excitedly.  "I heard you made it back from your patrol."
  Apollo nodded.  He was thankful to the battlestar's crew
for shielding the boy from the story of his clash with
Serina and his crash landing later on.
  Boxey stared intently into his father's face and could
instinctively tell that something was amiss.
  "Dad," the boy commented with concern, "you don't look so
good.  You're not getting sick are you?"
  Apollo forced himself to smile, but he knew that he was
not giving a very convincing smile.
  "I'm fine, Boxey," he said with as much conviction as he
could muster.  "Just a little tired is all.  It was a long
patrol."
  "Oh," the boy nodded in underestanding.
  Sheba cut in.
  "I'm sorry, Apollo," she said, "but we really need to get
to work on that scanner data."
  Apollo glanced thankfully at Sheba for her strategic
reminder.  She must have sensed his discomfort with talking
to the biological son of the woman who had earlier tried to
kill him.
  "Uh. . .yes, of course, Sheba," Apollo stumbled out a
reply.  He looked back down at his adopted son.  "I'm sorry,
Boxey," he said, "but I have to run.  Sheba and I have a
very important assignment to complete for the commander."
The colonel self-consciously hoped he was not appearing too
transparent to the boy.
  If he was, Boxey appeared not to notice.
  "Maybe I can help, too?" the boy offered eagerly.
  Apollo and Sheba exchanged uneasy looks.
  "Uh. . .I'm sorry, Boxey," Sheba said hurriedly, "but this
is a top secret assignment."
  "But I'm a Junior Warrior," Boxey protested.
  Apollo could not help but smile.
  "I know, Sir," he said gently.  "One of these days, I'm
sure you'll make an excellent warrior.  But a warrior also
has to understand that he is not always privy to
information, and can't always participate in every
assignment that comes along."
  "Oh," Boxey sighed in a crestfallen tone that almost broke
his father's heart.
  Apollo had to think quickly in order to avoid hurting his
son's feelings any further.
  "I'll tell you what," he said with as much excitement as
he could muster in his voice,"how about I take you to the
Rejuvenation Center later on after Sheba and I are done with
our assignment?"
  Boxey nodded, but without much enthusiasm.
  "Oh, I guess so," the boy said.
  "All right then," Apollo forced himself to smile.  "I'll
see you in a few centars."
  "Sure, Dad," Boxey nodded again, then walked away.
  "Damn it," Apollo sighed as he watched his son walking
dejectedly down the corridor and around a corner,
disappearing from sight.
  "Maybe we should have told him the truth. . ." Sheba said
as she shook her head sadly.
  "Yeah, right," Apollo said sharply.  "I can just picture
it now:  I tell Boxey that I almost got my astrum blasted
out of the sky today by what very likely could be his own
mother suddenly back from the dead, working for the Cylons
now and wanting to kill me!  That would ruin the image the
boy has of his mother, and I just CAN'T do that to him."
  "You may not have a choice," Sheba replied strongly.
"There's a lot of gossipy people on this battlestar, Apollo.
Not to mention the snitrads who leak information to IFB.
Sooner or later, Boxey is going to hear about Serina
apparently being back from the dead.  I'm sure he'd rather
hear about it from YOU than someone else."
  "I wouldn't even know how to tell him," Apollo sighed.
  "I hate to sound cold," Sheba replied, "but you'd better
be thinking of a way to tell him soon before someone else
does."
  Apollo lowered his head.  He knew that Sheba was right.
He would eventually have to tell Boxey what happened today.
But his mind replayed the same problem over and over in his
mind:  How does one go about gently telling a child that his
mother, once presumed dead, has apparently come back to life
and has defected to the enemy?

  "Launch bay Alpha, stand by to launch combat patrol," came
the calm, professional voice of Sergeant Rigel over the
helmet speakers of the Blue Squadron pilots.  "Transferring
vector coordinates to Blue Squadron."
  Starbuck flexed his fingers as he waited for the flight
plan data from the GALACTICA's Bridge to be downloaded into
his Viper's control system.  The instant the last of the
data had been successfully transferred into the Viper,
Starbuck contacted Rigel.
  "Input received," he reported.  "Ready to launch."
  "Transferring flight control to probe craft," Rigel said.
"Launch when ready."
  "Let's do it," Starbuck called out to his pilots as he
activated his Viper's launch tube catapult.  The captain was
pressed back into his seat as the fighter hurtled down the
launch tube and out into space.
  As the thirty-two Vipers of Blue Squadron formed up in
front of the GALACTICA, Starbuck began to suddenly develop
doubts about the mission.  He felt it bad enough that he may
be leading some of his squadron to die in a possible
confrontation with the new Cylon Marauder--or perhaps even
several Marauders.  The situation was worsened by Starbuck's
own doubts about his ability to kill Serina if placed in
such a confrontation.  He had loved Apollo's wife like a
sister, and the man knew that he would experience a great
deal of reluctance to kill someone he was once so fond of.
He could only imagine the hell this situation was putting
Apollo through.
  The rest of the squadron had finished forming up, and
Starbuck assumed the point position before leading his
Vipers onward toward the star system where Apollo and Giles
had encountered Serina.
  The flight to the target system was uneventful, but when
the squadron entered the system and approached the fourth
planet, Starbuck immediately found cause for alarm.
  "I'm picking up a single blip behind the fourth planet,"
the captain announced.
  "I've got it, too," Jolly replied.
  Starbuck immediately scanned the object and found that the
configuration matched the description Apollo had given of
the Marauder.  The scanner also identified the pilot as
human.  That human had to be Serina.
  "Frack," he whispered to himself.
  "Well, Starbuck?" Jolly asked.
  "All pilots arm weapons and activate targeting scanners,"
Starbuck commanded.  "Jolly, take Beta Wing and swing around
the planet to engage Serina on the right.  Alpha Wing,
follow me.  We'll go the around the other way and hit her
from the left.  And remember, this Marauder is one fast,
mean and nasty piece of Cylon hardware, so don't anybody try
to engage it one-on-one.  Stay in your groups and we'll just
annihilate it with sheer numbers and firepower."
  "Got it," Jolly replied as he and the Beta Wing Vipers
broke away and proceeded toward the target.
  Starbuck took a deep breath to steady his nerves, then led
his wing onward toward Serina's position.

  A soft alarm sounded from the control panel of Serina's
Marauder.  A glance at her scanner told the woman that
thirty-two Colonial Vipers, unmistakably from the GALACTICA,
were attempting to catch her in a pincer maneuver.  Serina
quickly powered up her Marauder's flight and combat systems,
then switched her communicator to monitor the broadcasts of
the approaching enemy.
  "She's powered up her systems," she heard the familiar
voice of Starbuck announce from the point position of the
Vipers approaching on her left side.
  "I see it," came another voice from the Viper group on her
right.  This voice was unfamiliar to her.
  Serina studied the approach of the Vipers, and decided to
first engage the group on her right.  As the Vipers neared
the planet, Serina fired up her thrusters and roared off to
intercept.

  "She's coming right at us!" Jolly announced with alarm.
"Heads up, people!  Stand by to fire."
  "Jolly," Starbuck called out to the Beta Wing leader,
"open fire the micron she's in range!"
  "Right!" Jolly replied.  The lieutenant's thumb hovered
above his control stick firing button.
  "Alpha Wing," Starbuck called out to his own wing, "hit
your turbos and move to engage!"
  As Jolly's Beta Wing prepared to engage, Starbuck's Alpha
Wing rocketed forward to assist.

  Serina opened fire with a furious volley of laser blasts
even before her Marauder came within targeting range of the
Vipers.  Three Vipers were hit by her shots, and two
exploded--including the Viper belonging to the group's
leader.

  "JOLLY!" Starbuck screamed in horror as his scanner
displayed the destruction of his friend's Viper.  The
captain watched helplessly as his scanner showed Serina's
nimble Marauder plowing through Beta Wing unscathed as it
eliminated seven more Vipers.  By the time Beta Wing swung
around to pursue Serina, Starbuck's group had arrived on the
scene.  Together, the Vipers charged after the Marauder,
firing as they went.

  Serina effortlessly evaded the furious laser volleys
coming from the pursuing Vipers as she dove toward a shallow
high speed orbit around the fourth planet.  She skimmed the
planet's atmosphere, creating a glowing streak through the
sky as her fighter created friction with the atmosphere.
Serina quickly jettisoned a sizable quantity of her
Marauder's highly volatile radioactive fuel which
immediately burst into flame from the friction.  She knew
that such an explosion of jettisoned fuel would create a
massive field of electromagnetic disruption in the
atmosphere and confuse the Viper's scanners, which would
give her time to race toward the planet's natural satellite
undetected.  She swung into a low pass over the satellite
and used the body's gravity to slingshot her Marauder around
on an intercept course with the Vipers passing over the
atmosphere of the fourth planet "below."

  "DAMN IT!" Starbuck cursed as the Marauder disappeared
from his scanner.
  "Where in Hades did she go?" Sergeant Cree exclaimed.

  "Right HERE!" Serina yelled playfully as she "dove" on
Cree's Viper and incinerated it with a perfectly aimed laser
blast.  She fired several more laser bursts into the group
of Vipers and destroyed three more before veering away and
swinging into a counterclockwise orbit that would eventually
position herself to make another head-on firing pass at the
Vipers moving clockwise around the planet.

  There was not enough time for the Blue Squadron Vipers to
avoid another lethal head-on clash with the Marauder.  So
the pilots opened fire with a furious barrage of laser
volleys in the hopes that one of the bursts would catch the
enemy craft and destroy it.  Unfortunately for them, Serina
seemed to anticipate the maneuver and evaded the Vipers'
fire.  Serina fired her own weapons and destroyed another
two Vipers as she roared through the formation.

  The battle was becoming hopeless, Starbuck finally
realized.  The Marauder was too superior to the Vipers, and
Serina was too good a pilot.  Continuing the engagement
would undoubtedly cost the captain more destroyed Vipers and
dead pilots.
  "Let's get the hell out of here!" the man yelled out to
his surviving Vipers.  The defeated Blue Squadron pilots
wasted no time in engaging their turbos and beating a hasty
retreat from the victorious Serina and her lethal Marauder.

  As she watched the surviving Vipers retreat, Serina could
not resist the urge to communicate with their leader.
  "Lieutenant Starbuck?" she called out to the leader of the
Vipers.

  Every hair on Starbuck's body seemed to stand on end as
the chilling voice of Serina filled his ears.  At a complete
loss as to what he should say to the woman who had killed
almost half the pilots in his squadron, he merely blurted
out "Uh. . .actually, it's Captain Starbuck now. . . ."
  "Oh, I see," came the almost cordial voice of his
opponent.  "I guess things have changed a little on the
GALACTICA since I left.  My compliments to you on your
promotion, CAPTAIN."
  Starbuck regained his senses.
  "Serina, why on KOBOL are you working for the Cylons?" he
demanded.  "Hades," he added, "how did you even survive TO
work for the Cylons?"
  "Because I wasn't quite dead yet," came Serina's chilling
reply.
  "But--" Starbuck sputtered.
  "Just tell Apollo that thanks to the help of my new
friends, his days are numbered," Serina interrupted.
  "But, Serina. . ." Starbuck's sentence fell off as his
scanner displayed the image of Serina's Marauder pivoting
around and hastily retreating from the system.
  "Damn. . ." the captain muttered to himself as the
Marauder went to supralight velocity and disappeared microns
later from his scanner.
  As his mind replayed the carnage of his squadron's
confrontation with the lone Marauder, Starbuck could not
help but see some truth in Serina's comments.
  It appeared as though perhaps Apollo's days WERE numbered.
Perhaps the entire Fleet's days were numbered as well.


                        Chapter Three

  No matter how hard Sheba and Doctor Wilker tried to glean
statistics on the new Cylon Marauder, Apollo could not focus
upon the details he had seen displayed upon his scanner
during the confrontation with Serina.  His mind was too
cluttered with worry.  Worry about Blue Squadron's safety.
Worry over how to tell Boxey about his mother.  Worry about
his ability to kill a woman he had once loved so deeply and
passionately, but who now wanted to kill him.  Worry about
how long it would take for the Cylons to mount a heavy
attack on the Fleet with squadrons of seemingly invincible
Marauders.
  "Perhaps we should get Doctor Salik in here," Wilker
commented as he sat down upon the desk in his lab.
  "I'm not ill, Doctor," Apollo snapped.
  "What I MEAN is perhaps Salik has drugs that can help you
recall what you saw on your scanner during the battle,"
Wilker tried to explain gently.  The man had not seen Apollo
so agitated since the GALACTICA's encounter with the Lunar
Seven refugees two yahrens ago.
  "And while we're at it," Apollo snorted with heavy
sarcasm, "why don't we haul some Tauran magi in here and
MAYBE they can read my mind and tell me what I saw!"
  "APOLLO. . ." Sheba sighed.
  Apollo let out a deep breath and shook his head sadly.
  "I'm sorry," he said softly.  "This isn't an easy thing
for me to go through."
  Sheba took Apollo's hand into her own.
  "But you don't have to go through it alone," she said
gently.
  Apollo nodded and touched Sheba's cheek.
  "It's just so hard for me to comprehend all of this," he
sighed.  "I remember watching Serina as she fell after that
Cylon shot her in the back.  I remember watching her die
back here on the GALACTICA.  I remember the funeral. . ."
  Sheba squeezed Apollo's hand.
  "She was dead, Sheba," Apollo sighed as he shook his head.
"DEAD.  There's absolutely no possible WAY Serina could have
been alive when we jettisoned her coffin into space."
  "Perhaps the Cylons found the coffin and revived her,"
Wilker suggested.  "Or cloned her."  The doctor sighed in
obvious disgust with himself.  "I don't know WHY I didn't
think to convene a panel to interrogate Baltar about
advances in Cylon technology when we had him incarcerated on
the Prison Barge."
  "He wouldn't have told you anything anyway," Apollo
replied.  "At least not without a price.  And even then,
there's no way to insure his honesty about anything he would
have told you."
  "I should have tried, though," Wilker said.  "For all we
know, this whole. . .RESURRECTION of Serina was a project of
his before we captured him."
  A familiar young male voice suddenly spoke up from the
entrance to Wilker's lab.
  "Are you talking about my mom?" Boxey asked while his
mechanical companion Muffit let out a "bark."
  Startled by the sudden and unexpected presence of the son
of their topic of conversation, Apollo, Sheba and Wilker
spun around toward the boy.
  "Frack," Sheba whispered to herself.
  "Boxey," Apollo demanded more sharply than he intented,
"what are you doing here?"
  "Muffit was making a funny noise," Boxey answered
defensively as he gestured toward the robot daggit.  "I
wanted Doctor Wilker to check him out."  The boy changed the
subject back to his original question.  "You were talking
about my mom, weren't you?" he asked sadly.
  Apollo was at a total loss for words.
  Sheba leaned over toward the colonel.
  "You'd better go ahead and tell him," she suggested
quietly.
  Boxey nevertheless heard what Sheba had said.
  "Tell me what?" Boxey asked, puzzled.
  Apollo sighed as he resigned himself to the fact that he
had no choice now but to inform Boxey about the situation
with Serina.  He turned to Sheba and Wilker.
  "Would you two excuse Boxey and me for a centon?" he
asked.
  Sheba and Wilker both nodded and hastily left the lab,
leaving Apollo and his son alone in the room.
  Apollo gestured toward the chair behind Wilker's desk.
  "Son," he said, "you'd better have a seat."
  Boxey was visibly bracing himself for the worst.
  "This is something bad, isn't it?" the boy asked as he
walked over to the chair and sat down.
  Apollo stared at the boy and tried to collect his
thoughts.  He found himself unable to.
  "I don't even know where to begin. . ." the colonel
sighed.
  "Why don't you start with the truth," Boxey said with a
shrug.
  "You know that I loved your mother, don't you?" Apollo
asked.
  Boxey nodded.
  "And there's nothing that will ever change the feelings I
had for her, either," Apollo continued.
  "Why were you and the others talking about my mom?" Boxey
asked.  "She's been dead for four yahrens now."
  "Maybe not. . ." Apollo sighed.
  "I don't understand, Dad," Boxey said, thoroughly
confused.
  Apollo let out a deep breath.
  "What I'm about to tell you won't be easy for me to say,"
the colonel sighed, "but I feel you have a right to know
what happened to me while I was on patrol today."
  "Sure. . ." Boxey said with uncertainty.
  "Giles and I were investigating a star system we
discovered while out on patrol," Apollo said.  "We
encountered a new type of Cylon fighter hiding behind one of
the planets."
  "The Cylons have found us again?" Boxey asked nervously.
"I thought that alert earlier was just another one of
Grandfather's drills."
  "I'm not sure if they know where we're at or not," Apollo
replied.  He returned to the subject at hand.  "Anyway," he
continued, "Giles and I discovered a Cylon fighter hiding
behind one of the planets.  We moved to engage, but this
fighter turned out to be superior to our Vipers and far more
maneuverable."
  "What happened?" Boxey asked, eager for details.
  "Giles was shot down," Apollo said.  "He was killed."
  Boxey lowered his head in sorrow.  Giles had been one of
the boy's favorite warriors.
  "Did you get that Cylon?" he asked.
  Apollo let out another breath.
  "No, I didn't," he said.  "As a matter of fact, that Cylon
fighter almost killed me as well."
  "If the Cylons have a fighter that's better than the
Viper," Boxey asked nervously, "then that means we're
doomed, doesn't it?"
  "Not necessarily. . ." Apollo replied, but without much
conviction.
  "But what does all of this have to do with my mom?" Boxey
asked.
  "I have no way of being certain," Apollo said, "but the
pilot of that fighter may have been your mother."
  "No. . ." Boxey shook his head in denial.
  Apollo nodded.
  "You're wrong!" Boxey shouted defiantly as he understood
the implication of his father's words.  "Mom would NEVER
betray us to the Cylons!"  Tears began to well up in the
boy's eyes.  "Besides," he continued, "she's dead.  The
Cylons killed her back at Kobol four yahrens ago!"
  "I don't know if it really was Serina piloting that Cylon
fighter or not," Apollo said gently.  "All I can tell you is
that the evidence points to it being her."
  "WHAT evidence?" Boxey demanded.
  "I heard her voice, Boxey," Apollo explained.  "My scanner
detected a human flying that fighter."
  "It must have been a trick!" Boxey replied defiantly.
  "I don't think it was," Apollo said calmly.  He was about
to continue, but was interrupted by the sound of the
GALACTICA's intercom.  They both turned their heads toward
the ceiling.
  "Colonel Apollo, Captains Bojay, Boomer and Sheba," came
the voice of Commander Adama over the intercom speaker,
"report to the Bridge immediately."
  Apollo glanced back at his son.
  "I have to go, Boxey," he said apologetically.
  "I heard," Boxey said sharply.  The boy was making no
effort to hide his anger with Apollo for what was said about
his mother, and the colonel could actually feel a sharp pang
of sadness in his chest over what he was having to put his
adopted son through.
  "We'll discuss this later," Apollo said.
  "Yeah," Boxey sighed angrily.  "Whatever."
  At a complete loss as to what he should say in consolation
to his anguished son, Apollo shook his head sadly as he
turned and walked dejectedly from Wilker's lab.
  After his father had left, Boxey stared down at Muffit.
  "My mom is NOT a traitor!" he said defiantly.
  Muffit "barked" in what seemed to be agreement.

  A dejected Apollo found Sheba waiting for him as he exited
Wilker's lab.  The woman fell in beside the colonel as they
walked quickly toward the turbolift that would take them to
the Bridge.
  "How'd it go?" Sheba asked, concerned.
  "About as well as I had expected," Apollo answered sadly.
  "That bad, huh?" Sheba said as she shook her head.
  "Worse," Apollo replied.  "He thinks I'm accusing his
mother of treason.  Like she's a female Baltar!"
  Apollo and Sheba reached the turbolift and stepped inside.
The colonel informed the automated lift control system of
his and Sheba's destination, then gave orders for the lift
to make no further stops for passengers until after they had
reached the deck upon which the Bridge was located.
  "I'm sure you'll be able to make Boxey understand," Sheba
said comfortingly.
  "I doubt if anyone would be able to accept the possibility
that one of their parents had defected to the enemy,"
Apollo replied.  "I wouldn't be able to believe someone
telling me that my mother had somehow survived the Holocaust
and was now working for the Cylons."
  Sheba could not argue with Apollo's reasoning.  Uncertain
as to what she could possibly say to make her troubled
friend feel any better about this whole situation, she fell
silent.
  The turbolift reached its destination, and Apollo and
Sheba disembarked.  Less than a centon later, they entered
the Bridge where they found Adama, Tigh and Boomer waiting
for them.  The three officers appeared to be extremely
distressed.
  "What's going on?" Apollo asked.
  "Blue Squadron is returning," Adama replied.
  "And?" the colonel asked apprehensively.
  "Starbuck reported running into Serina at the same place
you and Giles did," the commander replied heavily.  "Blue
Squadron engaged, but lost fifteen Vipers.  Unfortunately,
Serina managed to escape."
  Sheba let out a curse.  Apollo remained silent for several
microns until the full weight of Adama's report sunk in.
  "FIFTEEN Vipers?" he sputtered.
  "Fifteen," Tigh affirmed.  "Serina single-handedly took
out almost HALF of Blue Squadron's Vipers."
  "Which pilots were killed?" Apollo asked.
  Boomer recited the list with great reluctance and sadness.
  "Jolly, Brie, Styles, Cree, Shane, Xena, Malachi, Giddeon,
Noah, Hermes, Capella, Gavin, Rodemus, Crighdon, Rhyma."
  "Oh, my God. . ." Apollo choked as he remembered each and
every pilot lost in the battle.  He could understand the
massive loss of life if the GALACTICA been engaged in a
major battle, but the idea of one lone Cylon fighter
inflicting so many casualties in one action was difficult
for the colonel to accept.
  Sixteen Vipers lost in one day.  Seventeen if Apollo
counted his own demolished Viper.  Sixteen pilots and
seventeen Vipers the Fleet would be hard pressed to replace.

  As his defeated squadron approached the GALACTICA,
Starbuck could not shake the horrible images of the deaths
he had witnessed.  Not since the loss of one hundred twenty-
two of the GALACTICA's Vipers in the treacherous Cimtar
ambush had Starbuck felt such utter anguish over casualties.
He could rationalize the losses at Cimtar, for the
GALACTICA's Vipers were outnumbered almost ten-to-one.  He
could not, however, rationalize the loss of fifteen pilots
shot down by ONE single Cylon fighter.
  Except for his depressing report to the GALACTICA upon
entering the battlestar's perimeter, the captain had not
spoken a word since departing the star system where Blue
Squadron had been routed by Serina's Marauder.  None of his
surviving pilots were very talkative, either.  The
humiliating defeat had left the entire squadron demoralized
and shamed, and at a complete loss for words.
  Humiliation and remorse was giving way to anger in
Starbuck's tortured mind.  As he replayed the events of the
confrontation with Serina, the man began to develop a deep
hatred for the woman.  He was convinced that the enemy pilot
was indeed the real Serina.  He believed now as Apollo did
that there was no way the Cylons could replicate Serina's
voice as well as fool Viper scanners into falsely
registering the Marauder's pilot as human.  Certainly no
centurion--and probably not even an advanced IL-series Cylon
like Lucifer or Spectre--could pilot a combat spacecraft
with such skill and precision.  The Cylons were just not
that good.  If they were, the entire human species would
have been exterminated centuries ago.
  He was also certain that the Maruder was not piloted by a
disguised Iblis, for something in the back of the captain's
mind told him that the renagade being did not have the power
to kill anyone who did not willingly submit to him.  Where
that belief came from, he could not for the life of him
recall.
  He suddenly lit upon the idea of the possibility that the
Cylons had cloned Serina, but quickly dismissed the thought.
The Cylons were committed to exterminating human life, not
creating it.  And even if the Cylons HAD cloned Serina, he
could not see how they would have had the time to create a
fully grown, adult copy of the woman who was also trained
well enough to fly a combat spacecraft with the skill of a
veteran who had yahrens of experience.
  The familiar voice of Apollo came over the captain's
helmet speakers.
  "Starbuck," the colonel said,  "as soon as Blue Squadron
has landed, I want you to report immediately to the Briefing
Room."
  "You mean what's LEFT of Blue Squadron, don't you?"
Starbuck growled.  He suddenly regretted his sharp tone.  It
wasn't Apollo's fault.
  "I'm sorry, Apollo," he sighed.
  "It's all right, Starbuck," came his friend's response.
"It's all right."
  "I'll be aboard in five centons," Starbuck said.  "And
you'd better have a good, stiff drink ready for me when I
get there.  It's been one hell of a day."
  He let out a sigh.
  "One hell of a day. . ." he repeated to no one in
particular.

  "Fifteen Vipers?" Lucifer asked the triumphant Serina
incredulously.  "Did you say that you destroyed FIFTEEN
Colonial Vipers?"
  "Fifteen, Commander," Serina nodded with a glowing smile.
She turned her head back to the Marauder parked on the deck
of the base star's flight bay.  "That fighter performed
MAGNIFICENTLY!"
  "Apperently so," Lucifer replied, genuinely impressed.
"It is a shame, though, that Captain Apollo was not one of
your victims."
  "He will be tomorrow," Serina replied confidently.
  "How can you be so certain?"  Lucifer asked.  He suddenly
had an electronic flashback to the pre-battle confidence
Baltar used to exude.  Baltar's confidence was usually short-
lived as the fugitive Colonials defeated him again and
again.  He hoped that Serina would fare better, for this
time, Lucifer was placed in the position of ultimate blame
should this campaign end in failure.
  "I am going to issue a challenge to him today," Serina
replied.  "I will challenge him to meet me face-to-face
tomorrow."
  "A duel?" Lucifer asked.  The entire idea sounded just as
ridiculous to him now as it had when Serina had first
proposed it, but he suppressed making a comment that might
leave the woman feeling insulted.
  "Me in my Marauder against him in his Viper," Serina
nodded.
  "How can you be certain he will agree?" Lucifer asked.
"Even if he does agree to face you alone, how can you be
certain he will abide by your terms.  You COULD find
yourself flying straight into an ambush."
  "I will make it clear to Apollo that if he abides by my
terms of the duel," Serina replied, "win or lose, I will
cease my attacks upon Colonial spacecraft.  If he doesn't
abide by those terms, then the sixteen warriors who died
today will only be the start of my victims unless he faces
me alone."  Serina paused for a micron, then gave Lucifer a
"wicked" smile that once again gave the IL-series Cylon an
electronic flashback to the days of Baltar's incompetent
reign on this base star.  "Of course," Serina continued, "we
both know full well that I will neither lose this battle nor
will I end my attacks on Colonials.  That whole despicable
nation is full of citizens like Apollo.  The sooner Cylon
eliminates the last remnants of the Twelve Colonies, the
better."
  Lucifer was silent as he considered Serina's strategy.
  "I cannot approve of this plan, Serina." the Cylon finally
said.
  "I've told you before that I must handle Apollo in my own
way," Serina replied with a firmness the IL-series Cylon had
never before heard from this woman.  "If you want Apollo
gone as much as I do, then you must allow me the right to
eliminate Apollo in whatever manner I choose."
  Lucifer was taken aback by the woman's firm committment to
her plan to engage in a fighter duel with Apollo.  But he
suddenly realized that he truly didn't care how Serina
eliminated Apollo.  Whether she killed Apollo in a "fair"
fight or through "dirty tricks"made no difference to the IL-
series Cylon.  The ends would justify the means.
  "I suppose it does not matter how you eliminate Apollo,"
he finally said.
  "No, it really doesn't," Serina replied.
  "Very well, then," Lucifer said. "I will support your
plan."  The IL-series Cylon paused for a micron before
continuing.  "I do want you to know that my reluctance to
accept your plan bears no reflection upon your abilities.
Indeed, you have performed admirably since beginning your
service to Cylon.
  "I am only concerned for your safety," Lucifer continued.
"I have indeed grown quite fond of your company and
friendship, and I do not wish to see you harmed any further
by Apollo than you already have been."
  Serina smiled at Lucifer's words.  In a gesture of
affection toward what she considered as her only true
friend, the woman reached out and embraced the IL-series
Cylon.
  Lucifer was surprised by the gesture, and actually began
to feel self-conscious.  Baltar had certainly never behaved
this way toward him.  Perhaps, the IL-series Cylon thought,
he had overplayed his role of "kind, gentle and loving"
mentor to this emotionally fragile human female.  No matter,
Lucifer thought.  If such displays of affection helped
Serina feel a bond to the Cylon Trans-Stellar Empire, and
helped her achieve her goal of eliminating Apollo, then
Lucifer could not object.
  Serina finally released Lucifer.
  "I guess we should get to the Command Center and contact
the GALACTICA," she said.
  "Of course," Lucifer replied.  "Proceed."
  "By your command," Serina said as she bowed respectfully.

  Starbuck's face normally had a jaunty air even in the
middle of a crisis.  In the wake of Blue Squadron's
disastrous confrontation with Serina, that jauntiness was
gone.  The man looked as though he had aged ten yahrens
since he launched this morning.
  He had just finished retelling the horrible story of how
half his squadron had been shot down by Serina's admittedly
brilliant flying.
  "She had us completely outclassed," Starbuck concluded his
report.
  "Thirty-two Vipers SHOULD have been more than sufficient
to take on Serina," Tigh commented.
  "Not against that Marauder, it isn't," Starbuck replied.
  "Perhaps better tactics are needed," Apollo suggested
wearily.
  "Kiss my astrum, Apollo!" he growled at the colonel,
infuriated by what he saw as a personal insult.  "I don't
seem to remember YOUR famous flying skills being of much
help to YOU!"
  "Starbuck--" Apollo began sharply.
  "ENOUGH," Adama cut in.  "We aren't going to get anywhere
if we fight amongst ourselves."
  "We aren't going to get anywhere anyway," Bojay sighed.
"If ONE Marauder can blow the pogees out of a whole SQUADRON
of Vipers, then how in Kobol can we expect to survive
against a whole God cursed WAVE of them?"
  "YOU may be ready to give up, Bojay," Boomer responded
coldly, "but I'M not."
  "Neither am I," Sheba said defiantly.
  "That's NOT what I meant," Bojay snapped.
  "And just what DID you mean, Captain?" Tigh demanded.
  "THAT'S ENOUGH OF THIS!" Adama roared.  The man had rarely
raised his voice to subordinates throughout all his yahrens
in the Colonial Armed Service, but when he did, as he did
now, he definitely attracted everyone's attention.  The
Briefing Room fell silent.
  "Just look at us," Adama chided his subordinates with a
quieter, yet equally stern tone.  "Look at how sudden
adversity has placed us almost at each other's throats.  We
are WARRIORS, people.  We are SUPPOSED to have discipline.
And I'll be damned if I'll allow this crisis to tear the
GALACTICA apart."
  "You're right, Commander," Tigh nodded apologetically.
The other officers nodded their agreement to the commander's
statements.
  "This crisis has been difficult on all of us," Adama
continued, "but we cannot find a way out of this situation
unless we work together."
  Again, the officers nodded agreement.
  Omega's voice suddenly boomed out of the ceiling-mounted
intercom speaker and echoed through the room.
  "Bridge to Commander Adama," the officer said.
  "Go ahead, Omega," the commander responded.
  "You're not going to believe this, Sir," came Omega's
incredulous voice, "but we're being contacted by a Cylon
base star somewhere along heading three-two-five point four-
six by negative four point eight degrees.  It's Serina,
Sir."
  "And just WHAT does she want?" Adama asked, surprised by
the level of hostility he felt toward his once beloved
daughter-in-law.
  "She's requesting a private line to Colonel Apollo, Sir,"
Omega's replied.
  All eyes turned toward Apollo.  The colonel appeared
understandably reluctant to speak to the woman.
  "Frack," Apollo sighed to himself, then looked up toward
the ceiling intercom speaker.  "Give me a centon, Omega,
then patch her through."
  "Yes, Sir," Omega's replied.  "Standing by."
  Apollo turned toward his fellow officers.
  "Would all of you please excuse me for a few centons?" he
asked.
  "Of course," Adama nodded.  The other officers nodded as
well and rose from their seats.
  As the other officers filed out of the Briefing Room,
Sheba stayed behind.  The woman placed a comforting hand
upon her friend's shoulder.
  "We'll be right outside, Apollo," she said.
  As Apollo nodded, Sheba gave his shoulder a gentle
affectionate squeeze, then turned and walked out of the
room.
  Now alone, Apollo turned his gaze back toward the ceiling.
  "Omega, this is Apollo," he said aloud.  "Go ahead and
patch Serina through."

  As they waited in the corridor outside the Briefing Room
for Apollo to emerge from his conversation with Serina, each
of the GALACTICA officers found unconscious ways to pass the
time.  Adama, leaning against the bulkhead with his arms
folded across his chest, absently picked at a minute fiber
of lint on the left sleeve of his dark blue uniform.  Tigh
stood silently drumming his fingers against his thighs.
Starbuck paced back and forth in front of the Briefing Room
door as the fingers of his right hand nervously gripped and
released the butt of his holstered blaster.  Sheba, leaning
against the bulkhead beside Adama while glancing down at the
deck, nervously pulled and twirled locks of her hair.  Bojay
kept adjusting the position of his black pistol belt.  Long
centons passed before Apollo, appearing even more haggard
than he had been following his return to the GALACTICA this
morning, stepped out of the Briefing Room.  Everyone quickly
gathered around him, eager to hear what he and Serina had
discussed.
  "I'm to meet Serina tomorrow morning," Apollo said
solemnly.  "She wants a duel.  Me in a Viper against her in
a Marauder."
  With that simple announcement, Apollo walked past the
stunned group as he began walking off down the corridor.  To
the GALACTICA officers, Apollo's gait was reminiscent of a
condemned man walking toward his execution.
  Adama was the first of the officers to regain his senses
following the announcement.
  "Apollo!" he called out to his son.
  "I want to be alone for a while," Apollo replied as he
kept walking away.
  "But--" Adama began.
  "I said I want to be alone for a while!" the colonel
repeated as he disappeared around a corner and out of the
group's sight.


                        Chapter Four

  "All set," Serina smiled triumphantly as she closed the
channel to the GALACTICA and turned away from the
communications console in the base star's command center.
Lucifer, who had been standing behind the woman listening to
her entire conversation with Apollo, was incredulous.
  "Why did you offer Apollo the right to bring an escort?"
he asked.
  "I'll be taking a Raider with me as an escort, too,
Commander," Serina replied defensively.  "I fail to see why
you are so bothered by my offer."
  "I just fail to understand why you would feel compelled to
make such an offer," the IL-series Cylon said.
  "Because I'm certain Apollo would have refused my
challenge if I HADN'T made such an offer," Serina replied.
"He is so paranoid that we're going to ambush him."  She let
out a short laugh.  "As if we need to resort to such
tactics.  He could bring every Viper on the GALACTICA with
him and he STILL wouldn't stand a chance against my
Marauder!"
  "Do not be too confident in the Marauder's abilities,
Serina," Lucifer cautioned.  "Although the Marauder is an
excellent fighter, it's superiority over the Viper is
tenuous.  Should the humans ever discover the secret of the
Marauder's superiority, they can easily counter it.  After
that, the Viper and Marauder will be placed on equal terms."
  Serina nodded understanding, but her confidence was
undiminished.
  "I'm certain the Colonials won't find out what gives the
Marauder its advantage over the Viper," she assured Lucifer.
  "I wish I could be as certain," the IL-series Cylon
replied.
  "Have faith, Lucifer," Serina smiled, "have faith."
  Again Lucifer had an electronic flashback to Baltar's
reign on this base star.  He began to wonder if ALL humans
had a little of Baltar in them. The thought made the IL-
series Cylon cringe inwardly.
  Serina suddenly let out a yawn.
  "I guess I should be getting some rest," the woman sighed.
"It has been a long day."
  "Yes, it has," Lucifer agreed.
  "If you'll excuse me, Commander," Serina said, "I think I
need to lie down for a while.  I'll need to get plenty of
rest before tomorrow."
  "Of course," Lucifer replied.  "You may go."
  "By your command," Serina bowed, then turned and left the
command center.

  Starbuck knew that he should be consoling Apollo, but he
decided that as much as he would like to try to talk his old
friend out of his despondent mood, it would probably be
better if Adama or Athena or Sheba spoke to the man.  He
doubted if he would be able to succeed in cheering up Apollo
anyway, for he himself felt the same sense of hopelessness
about the whole situation.
  In the GALACTICA's previous encounters with its Cylon
pursuers, Starbuck knew that human ingenuity, skill and
daring had allowed the embattled Colonials to level the
playing field despite the enemy's numerical superiority.
But he firmly believed that it was pure and simple luck that
had played the decisive role in allowing the Fleet to
survive those crises.
  Starbuck believed that luck favored the Fleet as Carillon,
for if Adama had not begun to suspect that a Cylon trap was
about to be sprung, the entire Fleet would most likely have
been destroyed and the survivors would have ended up as food
for the Ovions.  At Kobol, if luck had not provided a cure
that returned the GALACTICA's ailing veteran pilots back to
duty just in time to join that battle, Starbuck's
inexperienced squadron would have been annihilated by the
superior firepower of the Cylon force attacking the planet.
At Arcta, luck would provide the GALACTICA's infiltration
team with allies who were instrumental in bringing about the
destruction of the deadly pulsar weapon that threatened the
Fleet.  At Gamoray, luck would have the GALACTICA discover
the battlestar PEGASUS just in time to save the Fleet from
annihilation under the onslaught of three Cylon base ships.
Days later, luck would again intervene to save the GALACTICA
from destruction as a Cylon suicide attack left the
battlestar crippled and burning out of control.  Luck would
later give Starbuck and Apollo an opportunity to
successfully infiltrate and sabotage a Cylon base ship so
that the GALACTICA could easily dispatch the enemy warship
in a direct confrontation.
  Others would probably disagree with him, but Starbuck
would never discount his belief that without luck, the
Cylons would have put a bloody end to the exodus a long time
ago.
  But now Starbuck could not help but believe that the
Fleet's luck may very well have run out.  His squadron's
encounter with the new Cylon Marauder had convinced him that
now the enemy firmly held the advantage.  If a single
Marauder could rout an entire squadron of Vipers, then a
full attack phalanx of those fighters would make short work
of annihilating the GALACTICA's four squadrons.
  Starbuck did not normally like to ponder his own
mortality, but in light of recent events, he could not help
but reflect upon the life he had lived.
  Perhaps it was the current crisis that was altering his
perception, but Starbuck could not fight the sudden
overwhelming sense of disgust he felt as he looked at the
person he was and the person he had once been.  For the most
part, he could see little difference in the two.
  Although he had lived an adventurous life full of ambrosa,
women and song--a life many of his male friends openly
envied him for living--Starbuck could now only see the
emptiness of it all.  After almost three decades of
drinking, philandering and gambling, he felt he had
absolutely nothing to show for it.  Nothing at all.
  He knew that he was being harsh on himself right now, but
he could not stop thinking that something vital was missing
from his life.  Something he felt he had deliberately
avoided out of nothing more than simple cowardice.
  It was time to turn his life around, he realized, while he
still had a life left TO turn around.  He took a deep breath
to steady his nerves for what he was about to do, then
headed for the Life Center and Cassiopeia.

  Ever since he had discovered the existence of the ancient
navigation dome mounted above the main thrusters on the aft
section of the GALACTICA, Apollo had converted the abandoned
station into his personal fortress of solitude.  It was the
one place in the entire Fleet where he could actually be
alone in those times where he desired seclusion.  This was
definitely one of those times.
  Memories of previous visits to the navigation dome played
through his mind.  He had discovered the abandoned dome not
long after the Holocaust, when he was searching for a place
to be alone in order to work through his grief over the
deaths of his mother and his younger brother Zac, both
victims of the Cylon assault.  The dome was also the perfect
setting for romantic interludes, as he and Serina had
discovered just after the battlestar's victory at Carillon.
He had made love to Serina many times in this dome before
the GALACTICA's discovery of Kobol, and afterwards, many
sectons would pass before the grief-stricken man would feel
comfortable returning to the station.
  Eventually he would elect to share "his" dome with three
of his closest friends:  Starbuck, Cassiopeia and Sheba.
The first time he did so, the dome's obsolete equipment
detected a strange Gamma frequency signal that Apollo still
believed originated from Earth.  While later searching for
the possible source of the signal, Apollo, Starbuck and
Sheba discovered a Cylon base star, which was later
destroyed in a direct ship-to-ship engagement with the
GALACTICA.
  The base star incident had marked a turning point for the
relationships of the two couples.  Starbuck and Cassiopeia
found their relationship strengthened by the incident.
Indeed, the two had become, as Starbuck liked to put it,
"engaged to be engaged."  As for Apollo and Sheba, the
incident forced the two to examine their true feelings for
each other.  They had both come to realize that they did
indeed have a very strong emotional and physical attraction
for each other, but only Sheba had the courage to confess,
albeit clumsily, her love for Apollo.  But Apollo could not
quite bring himself to reciprocate the confession.
Fortunately, his reluctance--or was it simply cowardice, he
wondered--to give an open demonstration of his devotion had
not alienated Sheba as it had done with so many other women
in his past.  Sheba was being uncharacteristically patient,
and made it clear to Apollo that she would give him the time
he needed to place his feelings into proper perspective.
  Now, thanks to Serina, that time had run out.
  As he leaned against the transparent tylinium hull of the
dome and stared absently into space, he made no pretense
about his chances of surviving the coming duel.  He knew
that the only reason he was still alive at all was because
Serina wanted to toy with him a while before making the
final kill.
  "Damn you, Serina. . ." he whispered aloud as tears welled
up in his eyes.  "Why are you doing this to me?  I thought
you LOVED me. . . ."
  The hatch at the floor of the dome popped open.  As Apollo
hastily wiped the accumulating tears from his eyes, Sheba
climbed up into the dome.
  "I THOUGHT I'd find you up here. . ." the woman said with
obviously forced cheerfulness as she closed the hatch behind
her.
  "I thought I told all of you that I wanted to be alone,"
Apollo sighed, still staring out into space.
  "I guess I don't follow orders too well," Sheba shrugged.
"Too much of my father in me, I guess."
  "What do you want, Sheba?" Apollo asked sharply, irritated
with the woman's levity.
  "I wanted to talk to you," Sheba replied, adopting a more
appropriate sober tone.
  "What about?" Apollo asked.
  "About a lot of things," Sheba sighed as she walked over
to Apollo and placed a hand against the man's back.  "You
and Serina, you and Boxey, you and me. . ."
  "What's there to talk about?" Apollo sighed.
  Apollo's despondence was breaking Sheba's heart.
  "There's plenty to talk about," the woman sighed.
  "Nothing seems to matter to me right now, Sheba," Apollo
sighed.  "It's as though my entire life was put on hold ever
since Serina returned."
  "I don't think you ought to face her tomorrow, Apollo,"
Sheba said.  "Let someone else do it.  Let me or Starbuck or
Boomer."
  "No," Apollo replied firmly.  "I have to be the one to
face her."
  "Why?" Sheba demanded as she lost control of her
hereditary temper.  "Because it's the NOBLE thing to do?"
  "Because it's the ONLY thing to do!" Apollo snapped
angrily as he turned to face Sheba.
  "What a load of felgercarb!" Sheba responded in kind.
  "Let's suppose I allow you or Starbuck or Boomer or ANY
OTHER PILOT on the GALACTICA to take my place tomorrow,"
Apollo snapped.  "If Serina wins, that person will die, and
then HOW in the name of all that's holy am I supposed to
LIVE with myself afterwards?"
  "Then let's set up an ambush and blow that little bitch
right the HELL out of the stars, Apollo," Sheba suggested
earnestly.
  "That wouldn't be right," Apollo sighed.
  "And why not?" Sheba pressed.  "Because it's not the FAIR
thing to do?  I don't know about YOU, Apollo, but I'm TIRED
of us fighting fairly.  I think it's high time we started
fighting JUST as dirty as the Cylons do!"
  "I'm facing Serina tomorrow, and THAT'S final!" Apollo
snapped.
  "I give up," Sheba sighed as she tearfully conceded defeat
in this argument.  "If you want to throw your life away,
then by all means, don't let me stop you, Apollo.  But I
want you to think long and hard about how much losing you is
going to hurt me.  And Boxey.  And your father.  And Athena
and Starbuck and Cassiopeia and Boomer. . ."
  Unable to continue, Sheba turned and hastily left the
dome, leaving Apollo to sulk in his wretched state of
solitude once again.

  Cassiopeia almost screamed in fright at the sight of
Starbuck's haggard face as the man entered the Life Center.
  "You look like you just escaped from Tartarus," she
commented as she regained her composure.
  "That's not funny, Cass," Starbuck snapped as he sat down
upon one of the Life Center's empty treatment tables.
  Cassiopeia bowed her head apologetically.
  "I heard about your fight with Serina. . ." she said.
"Are you all right?"
  "I watched fifteen of my pilots get blown away today,
Cass," Starbuck replied sadly.  "Including Jolly."
  "I know, Starbuck," Cassiopeia sighed with remorse as she
walked over and sat down beside her boyfriend.  She placed a
comforting arm around his shoulder.
  "And tomorrow," Starbuck continued sadly, "I'll lose
Apollo, too."
  "Don't say that, Starbuck," Cassiopeia implored.  "Apollo
will make it through.  He always does."
  "If Serina can wipe out half my squadron," Starbuck
sighed, "then Apollo doesn't have a prayer going against her
alone.  That new Cylon Marauder is probably going to be the
end of us all."
  "Starbuck--" Cassiopeia protested.
  "It's true, Cassie," Starbuck interrupted.  "That damn
machine can fly and fight circles around the Viper.  And
it's only a matter of time before the Cylons unleash a whole
wave of them on us."  He nervously ran his fingers through
his hair.  "When they do, Cass, there won't be enough left
of the Fleet to fill a trash can.  And then the whole human
race will become nothing more than a footnote in history."
  Cassiopeia was stunned by Starbuck's uncharacteristically
negative mood.
  "I've never seen you so pessimistic before. . ." she
sighed.
  "It's not pessimism, Cass," Starbuck replied.  "I'm just
facing reality."
  "I'M not ready to give up hope, Starbuck," Cassiopeia
replied firmly, "and neither should you."
  Starbuck let out a sigh.
  "I didn't come here to argue with you," he said.
  "What DID you come here for?" Cassiopeia asked.
  Starbuck let out another sigh as he collected his
thoughts.
  "I've been doing some thinking, Cass," he finally said.
"Thinking about a lot of things.  Mostly you."
  "What about me?" Cassiopeia asked.
  "Actually," Starbuck shrugged, "more like thinking about
us."
  "And?" Cassiopeia asked, her curiosity becoming more and
more aroused as she wondered what point Starbuck was leading
to.
  "I haven't been the best boyfriend in the world to you,
Cass," he sighed.  "As a matter of fact, if I was you,
I'd've probably dumped my astrum a long time ago. . ."
  The captain let out another sigh.
  "Why did you stay with me through all the felgercarb I've
put you through?" he asked.
  "It's what you do when you love someone, Starbuck,"
Cassiopeia replied as she kissed Starbuck's cheek.
  "Cassiopeia," Starbuck said with the most serious voice
the woman had ever heard from the man, "I don't know how
much time we have left, but I don't want to spend it with
you like this any more."
  "Spend it with me like WHAT?" Cassiopeia asked
apprehensively.
  Starbuck let out yet another sigh.  The carefully prepared
speech he had rehearsed in his mind began to fall apart.
  "I want to marry you," he said simply.
  Cassiopeia could not believe her ears.
  "You want to WHAT?" she gasped in astonishment.
  "Cassiopeia," Starbuck replied, "I'm no angel.  Never
claimed to be.  I've been a gambler and a philanderer and a
social misfit all my life.  While most of my friends were
settling down and raising families, I was out gambling and
drinking and chasing women.  It's as though I wasted my
whole damn life in constant pursuit of the next good time."
  "Starbuck, you don't have to--" Cassiopeia began.
  "Please, Cass," Starbuck interrupted.  "I need to say this
to you so you know this is coming from my heart."
  Cassiopeia nodded and fell silent.
  "I'm genuinely ashamed of that life now, Cass," Starbuck
continued.  "And I want to truly put it behind me before
it's too late.  I want to marry you, Cass.  I want you to be
my wife."
  Cassiopeia was vivibly moved by Starbuck's confessions,
but she still couldn't believe she had just heard Starbuck
actually propose.
  "Will you marry me, Cassiopeia?" Starbuck asked as he
turned and stared intently into the woman's eyes.
  Cassiopeia was still thoughly stunned by the man's
proposal, but she had no doubt in her mind now that his
offer was sincere, and would not be withdrawn after this
crisis had passed.
  "I'll marry you only on one condition, Starbuck," she
finally managed to say.
  "Which is?" Starbuck asked apprehensively.
  "We get sealed AFTER Apollo gets back from his duel,"
Cassiopeia smiled.
  Starbuck found her smile to be contagious.  He kissed
Cassiopeia with all the love he could summon, then wrapped
his arms around her in an embrace that neither wanted to see
end any time soon.

  Serina's dreams were filled with horrors.  With vivid
detail, her mind replayed the abuse Apollo had relentlessly
heaped upon her throughout their marriage.  Images of past
rapes, beatings and verbal assaults played in her mind like
a horror movie in which she was the star.  Try as she might
to stop the images, she found them impervious to her
willpower.
  As she tossed and turned in the bed of what had once been
Baltar's quarters, a tiny surveillance camera hidden within
the room transmitted the images of her discomfort directly
to Lucifer's central processing unit.  The IL-series Cylon
felt a surge of electronic satisfaction at the sight of the
woman's distress from the nightmares he was inducing in her
tortured mind.
  Yahrens before the Gamoray had fallen to Cylon territorial
expansion, the Delphians had developed numerous advances in
the ability to implant knowledge and uncannily realistic
imagery into the brains of living beings.  The Delphians had
benignly used the technology for educational and
recreational purposes, but Lucifer found darker uses for the
technology, and had relentlessly unleashed them upon Serina.
  Using images of Apollo obtained from Cylon military
intelligence, Lucifer had created a vast series of programs
in which the Colonial Warrior was turned into a monster who
seemed to enjoy nothing more than making Serina's life as
miserable as possible.  These realistic programs featuring
various forms of cruel physical and emotional torture were
fed by Lucifer into Serina's mind every time the woman
slept.  Although Lucifer knew the programs were not real, to
Serina, the events were terrifyingly vivid.  In her mind,
she had lived each and every horrifying event fed into her
brain, and fixated her mind more and more upon gaining
vengeance against what she perceived as the source of her
torment--Captain Apollo of the battlestar GALACTICA.
  As the woman's hatred for Apollo grew, Lucifer began to
supplement images of Serina receiving mistreatment from all
of her human peers.  Knowing from information supplied by
Baltar that Serina was a well known Caprican journalist,
Lucifer created programs in which she received massive
amounts of scorn, ridicule and persecution from all the
Colonies after publicly broadcasting pacifist views to a
less-than-receptive audience.  He also created images in
which Serina suffered day-to-day frustrations from dealing
with rude, selfish, arrogant, conniving and outright hostile
Colonials.  Before long, Serina had developed a hatred of
her human peers that was almost as strong as her hatred of
Apollo.
  These nurtured hatreds coupled with implanted knowledge of
how to fly the new Marauder prototype made Serina a truly
formidable opponent when fighting her human peers.
  As Lucifer replayed the program in which Apollo shot and
left Serina for dead on the barren surface of the planet
Kobol, the woman awoke with a scream that the IL-series
Cylon was certain must have echoed throughout the base star.
  The hidden camera relayed to Lucifer the image of Serina
quickly sitting upright in her bed.  Her nude body and
twisted bedlinen were visibly soaked with her perspiration.
  "LUCIFER!" Serina cried out in fright.  The base star's
internal communications system relayed the woman's cry of
distress to the IL-series Cylon.
  "Yes, Serina?" Lucifer responded casually though his
internal communicator.
  "I need you," the woman said in a weak, pitiful and
desperate voice.  "Please come to my quarters."
  "I shall be there shortly, Serina." Lucifer replied.
  Lucifer arrived at Serina's quarters centons later.  When
he entered, he found that Serina was still visibly
distraught from her induced nightmares.  The woman had not
even bothered to dress for Lucifer's arrival.
  "You were dreaming about Apollo again?" Lucifer guessed.
  "It was horrible," Serina sighed as tears rolled off her
cheeks and splashed upon her exposed breasts.  "I wish I
could get these nightmares to stop."
  "Perhaps you will find peace of mind after you've
extracted your vengeance against Captain Apollo tomorrow,"
Lucifer ventured.
  "It's not just Apollo, Lucifer," Serina sighed.  "I was
mistreated by that whole damned race."
  "Then perhaps you will find peace after Cylon removes that
bothersome species from existence," Lucifer replied.  "With
your help, of course," he added.
  "Nothing would make me happier, Lucifer," Serina managed
to smile at the prospect.  "Nothing would make me happier."

  Hearing from Sheba of her unsuccessful attempt at talking
to Apollo, Athena decided that she would try her luck at
coaxing her brother out of his despondent mood.  As the
woman entered the navigation dome, she found Apollo leaning
against the station's transparent tylinium hull and staring
vacantly out into space.
  Athena was saddened by her brother's state of mind.  Not
knowing what she should say--or COULD say, she simply walked
up behind Apollo and wrapped her arms around the man as she
laid her head against his shoulder.
  "I wish there was something I could do. . ." she finally
whispered.
  "There's nothing you can do, Sis," Apollo sighed.
  "I hate seeing you torn up like this, Apollo," Athena
sighed as well.  "It's not fair."
  "Since when has life been fair, Athena?" Apollo asked.
  "You are one of the most decent, kind, loving, gentle,
courageous men I've ever known, Apollo," Athena sighed.
"It's not fair that fate keeps shafting you.  You deserve
better than that."
  "None of us deserve what's happened to us the past few
yahrens, Athena," Apollo sighed.  "But we just have to keep
on going; not giving up hope."
  "That's awfully hypocritical of you, Apollo," Athena
replied sharply as she released her embrace on her brother.
  Apollo turned around to face his sister.
  "And just WHAT do you mean by that?" he demanded.
  "Ever since I've known you, Apollo," Athena replied,
"you've encouraged hope in the people around you.  You
encouraged Zac not to give up hope when he thought he was
about to flunk out of the Academy.  You encouraged me not to
give up hope that Father would eventually take me off Bridge
duty and assign me to a Viper squadron.  You encouraged
Sheba not to give up hope that her father had survived
Gamoray and would eventually rendezvous with us again.  You
encouraged Father not to give up his hope of finding Earth.
You've encouraged every crewmember on the GALACTICA not to
give up hope that we would survive against ANYTHING the
Cylons threw at us.
  "And now," Athena continued, "here you are throwing away
the hope that you'll beat Serina tomorrow.  I find it
hypocritical of you to throw away the ONE thing you've
encouraged the rest of us to desperately cling to:  HOPE."
  "It's not that I've given up hope, Athena," Apollo sighed.
"I'm just facing the reality of the situation."
  "THAT'S the BIGGEST load of felgercarb I've EVER heard,
Apollo!" Athena replied sharply.  "Maybe you can lie to
YOURSELF, but DON'T lie to ME!"
  "Athena--" Apollo began.
  "Don't you 'Athena' me, Apollo," the woman snapped.  "If
Starbuck or Boomer or ANYONE ELSE on the GALACTICA was in
the same difficult situation you're facing, you'd be telling
them not to give up hope.  SO DON'T YOU DO IT YOURSELF."
She punctuated every word in her last sentence by sharply
stabbing a finger into Apollo's chest.
  Something in Athena's words finally sunk in to Apollo's
troubled mind.  He realized that his sister was absolutely
correct.  He WAS being hypocritical.  He HAD given up hope.
  Apollo gazed at the deck for a micron, then looked back
into Athena's withering gaze.  A smile suddenly spread
across his face.
  "You're right," he replied.  "You're absolutely right."
  "You're damn RIGHT I'm RIGHT," Athena smiled in return.
  Apollo gently took Athena's face into his hands as he
leaned forward and placed a loving kiss upon his sister's
forehead, then wrapped his arms around the woman.  Athena
happily returned the hug before patting Apollo's back as a
signal to end the embrace.
  As they disengaged themselves, Athena looked up into
Apollo's eyes.
  "Now let's get you ready to go kick Serina's astrum
tomorrow,"  she smiled.
  Apollo, his confidence renewed by his sister's
surprisingly harsh but true criticism of his behavior, could
not help but smile in return.  He led the way out of the
dome, Athena following close behind.


                        Chapter Five

  Apollo strode into the Briefing Room and moved to the head
of the conference table behind the seated Adama.
  "Thank you all for showing up," he said to the assembled
officers.  Adama, Tigh, Starbuck, Boomer, Sheba and Bojay
nodded in acknowledgement.
  "First of all," Apollo began, "I owe all of you an
apology.  This entire crisis has been extremely difficult
for me, and I haven't exactly handled it very well.  I'm
sorry if I've said anything that has hurt or offended
anyone."
  "Don't worry about it, Apollo," Starbuck replied.  "We've
all been a little testy lately.  I don't think anyone in
this room wouldn't have been any less stressed or edgy if we
were going through the same thing ourselves."
  The other officers nodded in agreement to the captain's
statement.
  "I guess I should lay out how this duel is to take place,"
Apollo said as he walked over to the clear panel that
displayed a representation of the star system at which the
final confrontation with Serina would take place.  "Serina
and I will each be accompanied by one fighter on the way to
the site," he continued.  "This is to ensure fairness by
each side."
  "And just who have you chosen to accompany you?" Sheba
asked.
  "I haven't decided yet," Apollo answered.  "I'll announce
my decision in the morning."
  The pilots nodded in understanding.
  "Now," Apollo said as he continued the briefing, "Serina
and I are to approach from opposite ends of the system.
Both groups will approach to within one million maxims of
the fourth planet, then--"
  "The fourth planet again?" Starbuck groaned, interrupting
Apollo.  "Is it just me, or is she obsessed with trying to
turn the space around that planet into a graveyard for
Colonial ships?"
  Apollo glared at Starbuck, but let the captain's remark
pass without comment.  He resumed explaining the
choreography of the coming duel.
  "As I was saying," Apollo continued, "Serina and I are to
approach from opposite ends of the system.  Both groups will
approach to within one million maxims of the system's fourth
planet, then stop.  My escort will scan the area to make
sure the Cylons haven't set up an ambush, and Serina's
escort will do the same to make sure we are playing fairly.
Once each side's escort determines that there are no traps
set up by the other side, the duel will commence.
  "Leaving our escorts behind to monitor the duel," Apollo
continued, "Serina and I will approach each other to within
one thousand maxims of each other.  At that point, we each
execute a ninety-degree turn to our respective rights.  Then
we arm weapons, turn back toward each other and begin
fighting."
  "It sounds simple enough," Tigh commented.
  "Apollo," Adama spoke up, "how can we be certain Serina
will fight fairly?  For all you know, she could be planning
an ambush for you."
  "Serina has no guarantee that we won't try to ambush her,
either," Apollo replied with a shrug.  "That's why we will
each have an escort to maintain a constant scan of the area
in order to make sure neither side tries to ambush the
other."
  "And if the Cylons DO attempt an ambush?" Bojay asked.
  "Then we get out of there as fast as we can," Apollo
replied simply.
  "I still think this whole idea of a duel is ludicrous,"
Adama commented, "and I cannot for the life of me understand
what would make you accept such a challenge."
  "It's me Serina wants," Apollo replied.  "If I don't go
and face her again, she promised to continue attacking our
patrols."
  "We have no guarantee of that," Adama said.  "After what
we've been through, I will never again trust the word of a
Cylon, nor will I trust the word of anyone allied to them."
  "If I don't go," Apollo sighed, "then every time she
attacks and destroys a Viper, I'll blame myself for that
pilot's death for the rest of my life."
  "And if you lose this duel tomorrow and Serina continues
attacking our ships?" Boomer asked.
  "Then I will have died knowing that I tried to stop her,"
Apollo replied.
  "I still don't like this idea, Apollo," Adama said as he
shook his head.
  "There's another reason why I accepted this duel," Apollo
replied.
  "Which is?" Adama asked.
  "I want the Viper escorting me to forget about scanning
the area for Cylon interference," Apollo answered.  "I want
that Viper scanning the Marauder during the entire fight.
We need combat performance data on that new fighter, and I'm
also hoping my escort's scanners can detect a weakness in
the Marauder that can be quickly exploited."
  "You sound confident you'll win," Adama commented.
  "I'm NOT," Apollo replied.  "But a little while ago,
Athena convinced me not to give up hope.  I'm not going to
delude myself into thinking I'll beat Serina tomorrow, but I
AM confident that I'll at least give her a good fight if
even if I DON'T win."
  "I still don't like this idea," Adama sighed, "but I can
see that you are determined to go through with it with or
without my approval."
  "I have to, Father," Apollo replied.  "I just couldn't
live with myself if I backed down."
  Adama nodded silently, knowing that if he were in Apollo's
place, he would act no differently.
  "Any other questions?" Apollo asked the group.
  No one answered.
  "Then I guess that's it," the colonel shrugged.  "Now if
you'll excuse me, I really need to spend some time with
Boxey before tomorrow."  With that, Apollo quickly left the
Briefing Room.

  Alone in his bedroom, another developing wave of tears
blurred Boxey's vision as he stared at a photograph of his
mother that had been taken during her sealing ceremony with
Apollo.  The boy's hands began to tremble as he stroked the
visage of his mother's beautiful face.
  "I wish you were still here, Mom," he spoke softly to the
photograph.  "I miss you so much. . ."
  It just wasn't fair, Boxey thought to himself.  His mother
had been one of the kindest, most gentle and loving people
the boy had ever known in his young life, and his brain
burned with a hatred for the Cylons who had so wrongfully
taken her away from him.  In his young mind, he could easily
imagine himself launching a single-handed crusade of
vengeance against the whole Cylon Empire in retribution for
his mother's death.  He would not rest until every last
remnant of that evil empire had been laid to waste.  He
would also vindicate his mother's memory against the Cylon
trick which had convinced the entire crew of the GALACTICA
that she had betrayed humanity in order to willingly serve
the robotic enemy.
  Boxey held firm to his belief that his mother had not
become another Baltar.  Despite the damning evidence that
she had somehow survived Kobol and defected to Cylon, Boxey
remained steadfast in his belief that the enemy was somehow
tricking the Colonials into thinking his mother was a
traitor.  He hoped that someone would soon discover the
truth and clear his mother's name.
  The door to his room opened, and Boxey glanced up to see
an obviously somber Apollo step inside.
  "Apollo," Boxey nodded in a lackluster greeting.  It was
the first time he had not addressed the man as "Dad" since
the sealing ceremony.
  Apollo was obviously distressed at the manner in which the
boy addressed him, but Boxey didn't care.  In his mind,
Apollo had lost the right to be called "Dad" the micron the
man began slandering his mother's name.
  "We need to talk," Apollo sighed as he moved to sit down
upon the bed beside Boxey.
  "What about?" the boy asked nonchalantly as he rose from
the bed and moved to the other side of the small room.
  "We need to talk about your mother," Apollo replied,
visibly wounded by Boxey's action.
  "You mean my mother the TRAITOR?" Boxey snapped.
  "We don't even know if this is really Serina or not,"
Apollo sighed.
  "You seemed pretty certain a few centars ago," Boxey
replied with barely restrained anger.
  "I know, Son," Apollo sighed.
  "Do you still think she is?" Boxey asked, his tone
slightly softer now.
  Apollo blew out a loud breath as he carefully considered
his answer.
  "All the evidence seems to prove that she is working for
the Cylons now," he finally said.  "I don't know how that
can be, but that's what seems to have happened."
  "I still say it's a Cylon trick," Boxey replied firmly.
  "If it is," Apollo sighed, "it's the best trick I've ever
seen them pull off.  All I know is that the pilot of that
Cylon fighter had your mother's voice, and my scanner
identified that pilot as being human.  Starbuck found the
same thing when Blue Squadron ran into her."  He consciously
avoided telling the boy that Blue Squadron had been
deliberately sent in to shoot down Serina's fighter.
  "Maybe the Cylons are making Mom fight us against her
will," Boxey suggested.  "Maybe they raised her from the
dead and implanted stuff in her to control her.  Made her
like a zombie or something."
  Apollo knew that Boxey was trying desperately to defend
his mother's reputation in spite of the overwhelming
evidence, and he could not fault the boy for doing so.  No
child wanted to believe that his or her parent was a "bad"
person, and would go to extraordinary lengths to deny what
seemed to be irrefutable evidence of the parent's character
flaws.  As he tried to think of a suitable response to
Boxey's comments, his son spoke again.
  "Are you going to have to kill Mom?" he asked in a weak,
pitiful voice that pained Apollo.
  "I can't allow her to continue attacking our ships,
Boxey," Apollo sighed.
  "So you're going to kill her. . ." Boxey replied sadly.
  "I don't have any choice, Boxey," Apollo sighed again.
"She wants me to face her in a duel tomorrow, and I have to
defend myself."
  "Maybe you can talk Mom into coming back to our side,"
Boxey suggested in an obviously desperate attempt at saving
his mother's life.  "Then we can be a family again."
  "It's just not going to be that easy, Son," Apollo replied
as he shook his head sadly.  "Whoever this person is--
whether it's really your mother or an imposter--she wants me
dead.  She hates me for some reason, and wants to kill me.
There isn't any reasoning with her."
  "But you'll try?" Boxey asked.
  Apollo let out a deep breath before responding.
  "I'll try to reason with her again, Boxey," he finally
said.
  "Promise?" Boxey insisted.
  "I promise," Apollo sighed.  "But if she won't listen,
then I'll have to. . ."  He couldn't bring himself to
complete the sentence.
  "I know," Boxey nodded.  "I know."
  They stared at each other for a micron, then Apollo held
out his arms to the boy.  Boxey hesitated for a moment, then
slowly walked into his father's loving embrace.
  "I love you, Boxey," Apollo whispered into his son's hair.
"I love you so very much."
  "I love you, too. . ." Boxey replied, then added a simple
word that instantly Bridged the chasm that had existed
between them.
  He called Apollo "Dad."

  Boomer, Sheba and Starbuck stepped off the turbolift into
the cavernous expanse that was Flight Bay Alpha.  At the
center of the bay, the trio saw ground crew technicians and
mechanics swarming around the two parked Vipers that were
destined to fly toward tomorrow's confrontation with Serina.
  They had never seen Vipers looking so pristine.  After a
thorough wash and wax job by the meticulous ground crew, the
Vipers appeared as though they had just rolled off a
Colonial factory's assembly line.
  "They're BEAUTIFUL," Sheba gasped in amazement.
  "Yeah," Starbuck nodded.
  "Sure are," Boomer agreed.
  "I wonder who Apollo is going to pick to fly with him
tomorrow?" Starbuck wondered aloud.
  "Definitely you or Sheba," Boomer replied with obvious
disappointment.
  "Don't be too sure," Starbuck replied.  "You're the most
level-headed pilot in the Fleet, Boomer.  Apollo may decide
that he needs that trait in his escort."
  "I want you two to let me fly as his escort," Sheba
announced soberly.
  The two men turned toward the woman, their mutual
astonishment unmistakable in their facial expressions.
  "I love Apollo, guys," Sheba explained with a forced
calmness she obviously did not feel.  "I've loved him for a
long time.  Probably since the very day the PEGASUS found
the Fleet back at Gamoray."
  The woman paused for a micron, then continued.
  "I know that Apollo loves me, too," she sighed, "but just
has a hard time expressing those feelings."  "He does love
you, Sheba," Starbuck said.  "I know that he does.  He may
not say it publicly, or even privately to you, but I can see
it in his face when he looks at you.  And I can hear it in
his voice when he talks about you."
  Sheba smiled briefly at Starbuck's words.
  "I appreciate knowing that," she said.
  "It's true," Boomer added sincerely.
  Sheba nodded.
  "If Apollo is going to die tomorrow," she continued
soberly, "then I want to be there with him when it happens."
  Starbuck and Boomer both shifted nervously as they tried
in vain to think of a response to Sheba's passionate
request.
  "PLEASE?" Sheba implored the two men.  "It's very
important to me. . ."
  Starbuck and Boomer glanced at each other and came to a
mutual decision.  They turned back to Sheba and silently
nodded their concession to the woman's request.
  Sheba smiled as she gently reached out to touch the two
men's faces.
  "Thank you, guys," she sighed as she sniffed back tears.

  Unable to sleep again following her terrifying nightmares
of Apollo, Serina dressed in her green uniform and walked to
the base star's flight bay.  She watched silently as
maintenance droids swarmed around her Marauder as they
prepared the sleek machine for its coming battle with
Apollo's Viper.
  Serina heard the gentle whirring sound of an IL-series
Cylon approaching from behind her.  She turned to face
Lucifer.
  "You should be resting," Lucifer commented with concern.
  "I know," Serina sighed.  "I know."
  "My admittedly limited experience with humans has led me
to believe that they require long periods of rest before
engaging in challenging activities," the IL-series Cylon
stated.  "At least that was Baltar's habit before launching
attacks upon his peers."
  "I'm afraid of going back to sleep," Serina replied sadly
as tears welled up in her eyes.  "I'm afraid those
nightmares will return.  I just can't seem to make them
stop. . ."
  "I am confident that those dreams will never trouble you
again after you've obtained your revenge against Apollo,"
Lucifer commented sincerely.
  "I hope so, Lucifer," Serina sighed.  "I want to put this
whole terrible experience behind me so I can get on with my
life again.  I've suffered long enough from what Apollo did
to me."
  "That you have, Serina," Lucifer agreed.
  Serina let out another sigh.
  "The only problem I have now is not knowing what I'll do
with my life after we've defeated the Colonials," she said.
  "There may be further opportunities for you to continue
serving Cylon," Lucifer suggested.  "We are constantly being
harassed by our less-than-tolerant neighbors in the
interstellar community.  An excellent warrior such as
yourself could play a vital role in maintaining Cylon's
independence from these aggressors."
  "I would consider it an honor, Commander," Serina nodded.
"Especially if I can continue serving with you."
  "I am flattered," Lucifer replied.
  "You are the only friend I have in the whole universe,
Lucifer," Serina said earnestly, her cheeks starting to
blush,  "and I don't ever want to be separated from you.
  "When Apollo left me for dead on Kobol," she continued
passionately, "you found me and revived me and befriended
me.  You helped me stop feeling like a victim.  You gave me
an opportunity to make Apollo pay for the misery he put me
through.  For the first time in my life, I feel strong, and
I owe that to you."  Serina stepped forward and embraced
Lucifer, then reached up and kissed his cheek.
  "I love you," she whispered into his audio receptor.
  With that, she released a thoroughly astonished Lucifer,
then stepped back.
  "I guess I had better try to get some rest, Commander,"
she smiled, then turned and headed off for her quarters.

  Even though the battlestar GALACTICA had spend its entire
existence in the eternal night of space, her crew still
observed the natural human circadian rhythm, and had
designated time periods for morning, afternoon, evening and
night.
  Evening was giving way to night on the battlestar.  The
majority of the crew was preparing for their sleep periods,
including Commander Adama.  After completing his entries
into the ship's official log and his own private journal,
the commander showered, changed into his black velvet
bathrobe, then sat down upon the sofa to enjoy a much needed
glass of his prized vintage ambrosa.
  "What a day," he sighed to himself.  "What a day."
  His gaze fell upon a table on which stood photographs of
his family.  His grandfather Lot and his grandmother Alana.
His father Noah and his mother Rachel.  His wife Ila, and
his children Apollo, Athena and Zac.  His grandson Boxey.
His daughter-in-law Serina.
  Serina.
  Part of Adama's mind demanded that he immediately take
Serina's photograph and toss it down the nearest waste
chute.  That was the rational part of his mind which could
not help but believe in the evidence pointing to the woman's
defection to Cylon.  The emotional part of his mind,
however, still loved his daughter-in-law, and vigorously
defended Serina's innocence despite all the evidence to the
contrary.
  "This HAS to be one of Baltar's stunts," the commander
sighed aloud.  It HAD to be.  Only Baltar could hatch a plot
so devious.
  Adama sighed again as he thought about the possibility of
Baltar once again back in command of a base star and
renewing his mad quest to assist the Cylons in exterminating
the last remnants of humanity.  He realized that he should
have finished strangling the despicable traitor when he had
the chance back on Kobol.  He should have choked that
gallmonging snitrad to death right then and there and
afterwards, left the man's corpse to rot in the ugliest spot
he could find on the surface of that dead world.
  The door chime sounded, forcing Adama's mind away from the
admittedly pleasant thoughts of personally ending Baltar's
wretched life.
  "Enter," he called out to the automated door control,
which responded by opening the sliding door and admitting
the visitor.
  Apollo stepped into the room.
  "Hello, Son," Adama greeted the man with a forced cheer.
  "Father," Apollo nodded.
  "You look as though you could use a drink," the commander
smiled at his obviously frazzled son.  He nodded toward the
ornately decorated bottle of ambrosa and glasses on his
desk.
  "I think I need more than just one," Apollo sighed as he
poured himself a drink, then walked over to the sofa to sit
beside his father.
  "How is Boxey taking all of this?" Adama asked.
  Apollo took a sip of ambrosa before answering.
  "It was touch and go for a while," he said.  "At first he
really hated me for what I was saying about his mother.  But
I finally got him to face the fact that this could very well
be the real Serina."
  "And how does he feel about the duel?" Adama asked.
  "He wishes I could find a way to talk Serina into coming
back to the GALACTICA so we can become a family again,"
Apollo sighed.  "He made me promise that I would at least
try to convince Serina to come back with me and stop working
for the Cylons."
  "What did you tell him?" Adama asked.
  Apollo took another sip of ambrosa.
  "I told him I would try," the man sighed.  "But I also
told him that if Serina would not listen to me, then I had
no choice but to shoot her down if I could.
  "At least he doesn't hate me any more. . ." he continued.
"I wouldn't want to think he hated me if I died tomorrow."
  "Apollo," Adama asked soberly, "do you really believe that
this is the real Serina?"
  "I don't know, Father," Apollo sighed.  "I've heard all
kinds of theories from different people.  Some think the
Cylons just pulled an electronic trick on us.  Some think
she may have been cloned.  Boxey even wonders if it's
possible that the Cylons might have turned her into some
kind of zombie."
  "And what do your instincts tell you?" Adama asked.
  "My instincts don't know WHAT to think," Apollo sighed.
"All I know is that I loved Serina with all my heart, and
this whole damn situation is tearing me apart.  It's even
making me question my ability to kill her tomorrow if the
opportunity arises."
  "Will you be able to fire on her if you get the chance?"
Adama asked.
  "I honestly don't know," Apollo shrugged.  "More than
likely I'll be able to, but it'll be the hardest thing I've
ever done in my entire life."
  With that, Apollo drained his glass, then turned toward
his father.
  "I guess I really should be getting some sleep before
tomorrow," he sighed.
  "Yes," Adama nodded.  "Yes, of course, Son."
  Apollo handed his empty glass to Adama, then rose and
slowly walked toward the exit.  Adama, wanting desperately
to say something encouraging to his son but unable to think
of a single word, could only watch sadly as his only
surviving son walked out of the room.  After his son had
left and the door closed behind him, Adama raised his head
toward the ceiling.
  "Lord," he sighed as tears welled up in his eyes, "please
watch over my boy."


                         Chapter Six

  Apollo stood before the full-length mirror in the bedroom
of his quarters as he checked his appearance.  He had never
considered himself to be a truly handsome man, but he did
have to admit to himself that he looked good in his dark
blue formal dress uniform.
  The garment had always held special meaning to Apollo.  It
was the exact same uniform he had worn for his sealing
ceremony with Serina four yahrens ago.  He would wear it
again barely two days later when he attended Serina's
funeral.  He had not worn it since.  But now, only centars
away from his scheduled duel with Serina, he decided to wear
it once more.  Perhaps for the last time.
  "You look good, Dad," Boxey commented as he stood in the
doorway watching his father.
  "Thank you, Boxey," Apollo replied.
  "Why did you choose to wear this uniform again?" the boy
asked.  "You haven't put it on since you wore it to Mom's
funeral."
  "I don't know why I picked it out," Apollo sighed as he
turned to face his son.  "I guess that since today is
another important event in our lives, I thought I'd go ahead
and wear it again."  He shrugged.  "I guess that's the best
answer I can give you."
  Boxey nodded in understanding.
  Apollo reached over to affectionately tousle the boy's
hair.
  "I guess we'd better get to Alpha Bay," he sighed.
  Boxey nodded solemnly.
  Apollo took his son's hand as he led the way out of the
room.

  Serina and Lucifer stood before the gleaming Marauder in
the base star's flight bay.  Maintenance droids had worked
through the night to ensure that the fighter was thoroughly
cleaned and prepped for the coming duel.
  "It's beautiful," Serina smiled.  "The droids did an
excellent job on it."
  "I gave instructions that the fighter was to be placed in
optimal condition in preparation for you," Lucifer replied.
  "I really appreciate that, Commander," Serina nodded.
  "You are quite welcome," Lucifer replied.
  "Lucifer," Serina said earnestly as she turned to the IL-
series Cylon, "I can't thank you enough for all you've done
for me.  There's no way I can even begin to say how much
your guidance and friendship has meant to me."
  "You can thank me by emerging victorious in your duel with
Apollo," Lucifer replied.
  As Serina nodded, three silver-armored centurions
approached.
  "By your command," the lead centurion reported.
  "Speak," Lucifer commanded.
  "Our fighter is ready to launch and escort Serina to the S-
K Nine-five-seven System," the centurion said.
  "Very well, Centurion," Lucifer acknowledged.  "Report to
your fighter and await launch instructions."
  "By your command," the lead centurion replied.  The three
centurion pilots executed an about face, then marched to
their Raider.
  "I guess I should be going," Serina sighed as she watched
the centurions board the escort Raider.
  "Yes," Lucifer replied.  "I suppose so."
  Serina gave Lucifer a quick embrace and a kiss, then
turned and walked toward her waiting Marauder.
  "I wish you success, Serina," Lucifer called out to the
departing woman.  "Please return safely."
  Serina turned back toward Lucifer.
  "By your command," she smiled, then turned to climb up
into the Marauder.

  Every pilot, ground crew technician and senior officer
aboard the GALACTICA had assembled in Flight Bay Alpha to
see Apollo off on his mission to confront Serina.  As Apollo
and his son stepped off the turbolift, Tigh's voice boomed
across the expanse of the bay.
  "Company," he commanded, "ATTENTION!"
  The roar of boots clicking together as the assembled group
came to attention thundered throughout the bay.
  Apollo was equally stunned and moved by the assembly.  He
had no idea that anyone had decided to give such a sober
martial air to his departure, and wondered if the idea had
come from Tigh or his father.  He quickly regained his
composure and, still holding Boxey's hand, walked toward the
front of the assembled group.  He found Adama, Tigh,
Starbuck, Sheba, Boomer and Bojay clad in their dress
uniforms as they stood in front of the launch tubes
containing the two Vipers that would be flown on the coming
mission.
  The six officers saluted Apollo as he approached.  Apollo
stopped, released Boxey's hand as he came to attention, then
returned the salute.
  Apollo turned and knelt beside Boxey.  The boy could no
longer restrain tears as he realized that he may be saying
goodbye to his father for the last time.  He threw his arms
around Apollo's neck.
  "Boxey," Apollo sighed as he returned the embrace, "I
don't know what will happen to me today.  But in case I
don't return, I want you to know that I love you very much."
  "I love you, too, Dad," Boxey replied as he sniffed back
his tears.
  "I am also very proud of you, Son," Apollo continued.
"You're going to grow up to be a fine man one day."
  Apollo released Boxey and stared intently into the young
boy's face.
  "I owe it all to you, Dad," Boxey said as he forced
himself to smile.
  Apollo returned the smile as he motioned for Athena to
step forward.  Athena quickly hurried over to her brother as
the man rose to his feet.
  "If anything happens to me, Sis," Apollo said, "I want you
to take care of Boxey for me."
  Athena nodded as she bit her lip in order to avoid
breaking out into tears.
  Apollo held out his arms, and Athena fell into his
embrace.
  "I love you, Athena," he whispered.
  Unable to keep her tears at bay, Athena sobbed, "I love
you, too, Apollo.  I love you so much. . ."
  The two siblings separated.  Athena forced herself to
smile before taking Boxey's hand into her own and leading
the boy away.
  Apollo took a deep breath to steady his nerves before
walking up to his father.  The two men immediately fell into
an embrace.
  "I love you, Father," Apollo sighed.
  As they separated, Adama held Apollo at arms' length and
stared intently into his son's eyes.
  "I love you, too, Apollo," the commander smiled.  "You've
grown into a man whom I am more than proud to call my son."
  Adama's simple statement meant more to Apollo than a
thousand words could even begin to express.
  "Be careful out there, Son," the commander added.  "I want
you to return safely to me."
  Apollo nodded, then turned and walked over to Tigh.  The
GALACTICA's executive officer started to extend his hand,
but Apollo instead stepped forward and embraced the colonel.
  "Tigh," Apollo said, "you have always been more than my
superior officer.  You've been like an uncle to me, and I am
proud to consider you as a part of my family."
  Tigh was stunned and flattered by Apollo's words and open
display of affection.  As tears welled up in the colonel's
eyes, he returned Apollo's embrace.
  "You be careful out there," he sighed.
  Apollo stepped back from Tigh and smiled.
  "I'll consider that a direct order, Sir," he said.
  Apollo then walked over to Starbuck.  The two friends
immediately embraced.
  "Good luck out there, Ol' buddy," Starbuck said in a
choked voice to his friend.
  "Thank you, Starbuck," Apollo replied.
  "I was going to keep this a secret until you got back,"
Starbuck said, "but I'm going to tell you now so you'll have
even more reason to come back."
  Apollo stepped back from Starbuck and stared into his
friend's face.
  "And just what reason would that be?" he asked the smiling
captain.
  "I need a best man," Starbuck shrugged.
  Apollo was absolutely astonished by his friend's news.
  "You mean. . .?" he began.
  "Yep," Starbuck grinned.  "I finally asked Cassiopeia to
marry me.  We've set the sealing ceremony to take place
AFTER you've come back."
  "Then I'll be there, Starbuck," Apollo smiled.  "One way
or another, I'll be there."
  The two men quickly embraced again, then Apollo walked
over to Sheba.
  "There's a million and one things I want to say to you
right now, Sheba," he sighed as he stared into the woman's
eyes.
  "I feel the same way, Apollo," Sheba replied with a forced
calm she obviously did not feel.  "And we can get started on
saying all the things we meant to say to each other as soon
as you get back to the GALACTICA."
  Apollo nodded, then embraced Sheba.  They held each other
tightly for a long moment before finally separating with
great reluctance.  Apollo gently touched Sheba's face for a
micron, then walked over to Boomer.
  "We've certainly been through a lot together, haven't we?"
Apollo smiled as he stared into Boomer's face.
  "That we have, my friend," Boomer nodded soberly.  "That
we have."
  "I've never told you this," Apollo said, "but you've
always been like a brother to me."
  "So have you, Apollo," Boomer smiled in reply.
  The two men embraced.
  "You be careful out there, Apollo," Boomer whispered.
  "I will," Apollo replied.
  The two men separated, then Apollo stepped over to Bojay.
  "We didn't exactly start out on the best of terms when we
met again at Gamoray," Apollo sighed, "but I'm glad we put
all that behind us.  I'm proud to have served with you,
Bojay, and even more proud to call you my friend."
  "Good luck out there, Apollo," Bojay replied.
  Apollo reached out and embraced the captain.  A surprised
Bojay hesitated at first, but then warmly returned the
gesture.
  As he and Bojay separated, Apollo stepped back and glanced
in turn at each of the four pilots.
  "I guess it's time for me to announce who I'll be taking
with me," he said.
  "We've already decided for you, Apollo," Starbuck spoke
up.  Boomer and Bojay nodded in agreement.
  "You have?" Apollo asked, surprised.
  "That's right," Sheba replied as she stepped forward.
"I'm going with you."
  Apollo started to protest, but decided against it.  He
instantly knew that Sheba was determined to accompany him to
the duel.  Besides, he had not been able to make the
decision on whom to take with him, and had planned to have
the four pilots draw lots, so he may very well have ended up
taking Sheba anyway.
  "Then I guess we'd better get going," he said simply.
  Sheba nodded, then walked off to her waiting Viper.
  Apollo turned to the assembled crew.
  "I am proud to have served with each and every one of
you," he said in a voice loud enough to carry to each and
every person assembled.  "You are definitely the finest
group of warriors in the history of the Colonial Fleet!"
  As the formation expressed their goodbyes and good luck
wishes, Apollo turned away and walked over to the lauch tube
containing his Viper.  As he entered the tube, he gazed in
astonishment at the gleaming craft that awaited him.  He had
never before seen a Viper shine as much as the one before
him now, and was genuinely impressed with the attention the
ground crew had devoted to the sleek machine.
  Tech Sergeant Cabot, Apollo's assigned crew chief, entered
the launch tube and walked up behind Apollo.
  "She's all set, Colonel," the sergeant announced.
"Scrubbed, polished and armed to the teeth."
  "I can see," Apollo nodded.  "Your crew did an excellent
job."
  "Thank you, Sir," Cabot replied.
  Apollo started to head to his Viper, but instead turned to
face his crew chief.
  "I've never thanked you for all the yahrens of excellent
service you've devoted toward keeping me flying," the
colonel said.
  "You can thank me by coming back alive, Colonel," Cabot
smiled.
  "I'll do my best," Apollo nodded as he extened his hand to
the sergeant.  Cabot eagerly shook the colonel's hand.
  Apollo turned away from Cabot and climbed up the ladder to
the Viper's cockpit.  He glanced over to Sheba, who was
already seated in her Viper.  As Sheba was closing her
transparent canopy around her, Apollo lowered himself into
his own Viper's cockpit.  Cabot quickly handed Apollo a
polished flight helmet, then rolled the boarding ladder away
from the fighter before exiting the launch area.
  Apollo pulled the helmet down over his head, then
activated its internal communications relays.  As he closed
his cockpit canopy, the colonel contacted the space traffic
control officer on the Bridge.
  "This is Colonel Apollo," he announced as he strapped
himself in to his seat.  "Requesting launch clearance."
  "Colonel Apollo, Captain Sheba," came Rigel's voice in
reply, "stand by to launch."
  Apollo began activating the Viper's flight systems.
  "Core systems transferring vector coordinates and launch
control to Vipers," Rigel reported.
  "Input received," Apollo replied as the data from the
Bridge was successfully downloaded into his fighter.
  "Apollo, Sheba," Rigel announced, "you are now clear to
launch when ready.  Good luck out there, you two.  I'll be
praying for your safe return."
  "Thank you, Rigel," a moved Apollo replied as he powered
up the Viper's trio of engines.  As the engines quickly
revved up, he turned his head toward Sheba in her escort
Viper.
  "I guess we shouldn't keep them waiting should we?" the
woman called out.
  Apollo shook his head.
  "No," he sighed, "I guess not.  Let's go."
  The two pilots activated the launch catapults
simultaneously, and were each pressed back in their seats by
the force of the acceleration as their Vipers hurtled down
the launch tubes and out into space.

  As the Marauder and its accompanying Raider approached the
outer boundary of the S-K Nine-five-seven Star System, both
vehicles quickly decelerated to a complete stop.
  "Scanners detect no sign of the Colonial Vipers," the lead
centurion of the escort Raider reported to Serina.
  "It's still early, Centurion," Serina responded.  "We'll
wait here for them to arrive at the other side of the
system."
  "By your command," the centurion replied.

  As the Vipers flew toward their destination, Apollo and
Sheba had fallen into silence.  Both pilots had many things
they wanted to say to the other, but neither one could think
of a proper way to openly express those feelings.
  While Sheba focused her gaze forward, Apollo found himself
constantly turning his head to the right to glance at the
woman's Viper.  He wanted so desperately to express to her
the many thoughts running through his mind, but could not
find the perfect words.
  Perhaps, he thought, there WERE no perfect words.  Perhaps
it was not the words that mattered, but the feelings and
emotions BEHIND those words that were important.
  He suddenly felt like a total fool.  He sadly realized
that he had wasted more than two yahrens in his unachievable
quest for the perfect words to express his love and devotion
to Sheba.  Instead of just simply telling her what was in
his heart, he had been wasting precious time trying to speak
from his logical mind.  No wonder he couldn't find the
logical words to express his feelings.  Love was rarely
logical.
  Apollo cursed his mind's horribly slow sense of timing,
and wished that he could have had this revelation a long
time ago.
  He decided to dispense with the self-recrimination.  There
was no time for that now.  As his Viper rapidly closed in on
his destination, he realized that there was barely enough
time to reveal to Sheba his true feelings for the woman.  He
decided that he had better start talking now before it was
too late.
  "Sheba," he called out hesitantly.
  "Yes, Apollo?" came her response.
  "There's some things I need to say to you before I meet
Serina," he said.
  "I'm listening, Apollo," Sheba replied gently.
  "I should have told you this a long time ago," Apollo
sighed.  "I guess I was looking for the perfect way to
express my feelings for you, and I should have just told you
what was in my heart."
  He took a deep breath before continuing.
  "I love you, Sheba," he said passionately, his voice
threatening to crack.  "I've loved you for a long time now."
He let out a brief laugh.  "I guess I've been in love with
you ever since your father showed me your image in his
quarters on the PEGASUS.
  "I SHOULD have expressed my feelings for you from the
start," he sighed as he continued, "but I was afraid.  I
don't know WHY I was afraid, but I was."
  "I understand, Apollo," Sheba replied gently.
  "No, you don't," Apollo sighed.
  "I don't get what you mean," Sheba said.
  "It's never been easy for me to express myself to a
woman," Apollo explained apologetically.  "I guess I was
always afraid the woman wouldn't feel the same, and I'd end
up getting hurt.  But instead of getting hurt myself, I
ended up hurting a lot of women I've cared deeply about just
because I was too big a coward to just come out and tell
them that I loved them."
  "I DO understand because I was the same way, Apollo,"
Sheba sighed.  "I let every man I really cared about slip
through my fingers because I was afraid of expressing
myself.  I've never been very good at telling someone I
cared for them.  And the few times I've tried, I ended up
saying something stupid and feeling like a complete idiot.
  "Like that time I tried to tell you I loved you back when
you were getting ready to infiltrate that base ship," Sheba
continued sadly.  "I couldn't just come right out and tell
you I loved you.  No, I had to go off and accuse you of
having a death wish because of Serina.  I didn't mean to say
that, and I don't know why I couldn't just simply tell you
that I loved you."
  "I guess it doesn't matter how we say it just so long as
we say it," Apollo replied.
  "You're right, Apollo," Sheba agreed.
  Apollo took a deep breath before speaking again.
  "Sheba," he said, "I love you."
  "I love you, too, Apollo," Sheba happily replied.
  The Vipers approached the star system's outer boundary.
Apollo and Sheba quickly switched to their more sensitive
short-range scanners, and found two stationary blips on the
opposite side of the system.
  "They're here," Apollo announced soberly.
  "I see them," Sheba replied softly.
  "I guess we'd better get this over with," Apollo sighed.
"Let's go in."

  "Scanners indicate two Colonial Vipers entering the
system," the lead pilot of the escort Raider reported to
Serina.
  "I see them, Centurion," Serina replied casually as she
saw the same information displayed on the scanner in the
cockpit of her Marauder.  "Let's go."
  "By your command," the centurion responded.
  The crews of the two Cylon fighters engaged their
thrusters and steered their vehicles toward the fourth
planet.


                        Chapter Seven

  As Lucifer waited in the base star's Command Center for
news of Serina's duel, he found himself starting to pace
across the floor of the chamber.  The IL-series Cylon's
complex circuitry buzzed with a sensation that he could only
describe as the electronic equivalent of the human emotion
"worry".  Lucifer could not understand why he suddenly felt
worried, but he quickly determined that it was not a
pleasant sensation, and wished it would stop.
  Yet the sensation persisted, and he could not understand
why.  There was truly nothing he should feel worried about.
His plan to finally defeat the Colonials was proceeding
smoothly.  Serina was about to eliminate Apollo, whom
Lucifer believed to have played a crucial role in thwarting
almost every Cylon attempt to destroy the fugitive
battlestar GALACTICA and the civilian ships under its
protection.  Soon, Serina would be turned loose to attack
and destroy every Viper patrol she could locate.  It was
Lucifer's belief that through attrition, he could weaken the
Fleet's defensive capabilities to the point where his lone
base star could easily annihilate the last remnants of
humanity.  Perhaps then, he thought, he would finally secure
his place as the logical successor to the Cylon throne.
  So why was he still feeling worried?
  Perhaps he was experiencing concern about the results of
the duel.  He quickly dismissed the notion, for he was
already certain of the outcome.  He had no doubt that Serina
would emerge victorious.  She was an excellent pilot, thanks
to the knowledge implanted in her brain by the Delphian
memory augmentation device.  She was flying the Marauder,
which had proven itself to be superior to the Viper.  She
was motivated to kill her opponent, thanks to Lucifer's use
of the Delphian device to cultivate in the woman's mind a
burning hatred of Apollo.  The advantage in this
confrontation lay overwhelmingly with Serina, Lucifer
realized, so he had no reason to feel worried.
  Yet the annoying sensation persisted.
  Perhaps his worry stemmed from a concern over Serina's
safety.  No, that could not be the case, Lucifer realized.
Serina was merely a tool the IL-series Cylon was using to
bring about the final defeat of the humans.  Nothing more
than a tool.  He found the idea of worrying about the
woman's safety to be absolutely preposterous.  She was a
human, and Lucifer simply did not experience any emotions
toward humans.  None whatsoever.
  The IL-series Cylon immediately realized that he was not
being accurate in his assessment.  He had indeed experienced
emotions toward humans in the past.  He remembered
experiencing positive sensations toward the human known as
Starbuck during the captured pilot's brief detention on this
base star.  Lucifer had certainly experienced many intensely
negative sensations toward Baltar during the human traitor's
reign.  If he could experience feelings for these two
humans, then why was it impossible to develop feelings for
Serina as well?  Was it possible that he found himself
reciprocating the feelings of devotion Serina obviously held
for him?
  The concept perplexed Lucifer.
  Perhaps, he thought, his carefully crafted image as a
paternal figure to Serina had one unforseen consequence: he
would inadvertently come to view the woman as an offspring.
Serina could certainly qualify as that.  After all, Lucifer
had indeed made Serina the woman she was today.  He had
given the woman life, had provided her with shelter, fed
her, given her education and guidance--all things parents
gave to an offspring.  But still Lucifer could not explain
why this relationship would compel him to develop feelings
for the woman.
  Perhaps, Lucifer thought, the feelings he had developed
for Serina were only natural.  According to information he
learned from Baltar during one of their many conversations
about human social behavior, parents naturally developed a
sense of devotion toward their offspring.  Perhaps feelings
of worry about that offspring's well being was just as
natural, too.  How odd it was, he felt, that he would find
himself beginning to emulate more and more characteristics
common to his human adversaries.  Very odd indeed.
  Lucifer stopped his pacing as he turned toward the
centurion monitoring communications.
  "Any word from Serina?" he asked nervously, a tone of
concern obvious in his voice.
  The communications centurion fixed a quizzical stare on
his commander.
  "Well?" Lucifer demanded.
  "Negative," the centurion replied simply before returning
his gaze to his console.
  Lucifer resumed his worried pacing.

  As he waited anxiously to hear news of the duel, Adama
began to absently pace back and forth on the command
platform of the GALACTICA's unusually quiet Bridge.  The
commander's worry over his son was making him nervous and
edgy, compelling Tigh, Starbuck, Boomer, Bojay, Omega,
Athena and Boxey to wisely give the man a wide berth as he
paced.
  Adama cursed himself.  He should never have allowed Apollo
to accept Serina's challenge.
  The commander immediately chided himself for his foolish
thoughts.  He knew that Apollo felt a sense of obligation to
confront Serina and try to put an end to her attacks.  Adama
knew that he himself would respond no differently if he and
his crew were being hunted by an inexplicably vengeful Ila.
  All he could do is wait and pray that his son would
survive his confrontation with Serina.  Pray that God would
once again see fit to answer his prayers and bring his son
home safely.
  Adama stopped his pacing as he turned to Omega.
  "Any word from Apollo?" he asked nervously.
  Omega glanced down at Rigel.  Rigel, already overhearing
the commander's request, turned around in her seat, looked
up to the operations officer and solemnly shook her head.
Omega nodded then turned back to Adama.
  "No, Sir," he sighed.  "Sorry, Commander."
  Adama resumed his worried pacing.

  As the Colonial Vipers advanced toward the fourth planet,
Apollo began to develop an uneasy feeling.  He could feel
the rhythm of his heart increasing, and he noticed that he
was suddenly beginning to breathe faster.  Perspiration
began to ooze from his pores, and he could feel his hands
beginning to shake.  The man was scared.
  "How are you holding up over there?" Sheba asked, sensing
her partner's discomfort.
  "I'll be all right," Apollo replied with a calm he did not
feel.  "Just a little tense."
  "If you need a bracer, Apollo," Sheba replied, "I stuffed
a flask of ambrosa by the left side of your seat last
night."
  Apollo reached down and felt the flask, but left the metal
container where it lay.
  "I appreciate the thought," Apollo replied, "but I think
I'll save it for afterwards.  I'll probably need it more
then."
  "At least you're sounding optimistic again," Sheba
commented.  "That's a good sign."
  Apollo was about to respond, but his attention was drawn
to his scanner.
  "We're coming up on the one million maxim mark," he
announced.  "Full stop."
  Both pilots slowed their Vipers to a halt. Sheba
immediately directed her scanner to conduct a survey of the
area.
  "No sign of a Cylon ambush," she reported.  "Looks like
they're going to play fair for once."
  Apollo did not comment.  He instead watched the images on
his scanner showing Serina and her escort Raider coming to a
stop one million maxims away from the other side of the
fourth planet.
  "Sheba," he commanded, "switch your communicator to
frequency one sixty-two point four-seven-five."
  "One sixty-two point four-seven-five?" Sheba asked.  "Why
that?"
  "It's half way in between the primary Colonial and Cylon
military frequencies," Apollo replied.  It's a compromise
Serina and I worked out for communicating with each other."
  "Makes sense," Sheba replied with a shrug.  "Switching
now."

  As her Marauder slowed to a halt, Serina could feel a
sense of satisfaction radiate through her body.  She would
finally extract her vengeance against Apollo.  After all
this time, she would finally obtain justice for all the
abuse he had inflicted upon her.  The satisfaction she felt
suddenly gave way to what she considered to be an even more
pleasant sensation:  excitement.  She was going to enjoy
killing her former tormentor.
  The mechanized voice of the escort Raider's lead centurion
came over Serina's communicator.
  "Scanners indicate no additional Colonial spacecraft in
the system," the centurion reported.
  Serina was surprised by the news.  She had half expected
Apollo to set up an ambush.  But then again, after the way
she had easily routed an entire squadron of Vipers
yesterday, the man would probably have experienced
difficulty obtaining volunteers for such a mission.
  It was time to get this duel started.
  "Switch communicators to frequency one-six-two point four-
seven-five," Serina commanded her escort crew, "and maintain
constant surveillance of the area just in case Apollo's
escort tries to intervene."
  "By your command," the lead pilot of the Raider replied.
  Serina switched her communicator over to the proscribed
frequency, then contacted her adversary.

  Apollo felt a chill race up his spine as he heard Serina's
voice coming over his helmet speakers.
  "I'm surprised you had the courage to show up," the woman
laughed with a taunting voice.
  The colonel forced himself to regain his composure, but
found that it was not an easy task.  Serina's voice unnerved
him.  It was like he was communicating with a ghost.
  "I'm here, Serina," he finally replied.  "Just as I said I
would be."
  "Then let's get started," Serina replied with a sudden
seriousness that unnerved Apollo even more than her teasing
tone had.  "I've waited a very long time for this."
  "Before we get started, Serina," Apollo hastily called
out, "I'd like to ask you a question."
  "Is this a last request?" Serina teased.
  "Something like that," Apollo replied soberly.
  "Very well," Serina sighed.
  Apollo took a deep breath to steady his nerves while he
collected his thoughts.  His next words could literally make
the difference between life and death.
  "I want to know why you are doing this, Serina," he
finallly asked.  "What has made you suddenly hate me so much
that you would betray your own people to work for the
Cylons?"
  "You KNOW why, Apollo," Serina snapped.
  "No," Apollo replied with as much calm as he could muster
into his voice.  "No, Serina, I DON'T know."
  "You really don't want me to remind you, Apollo," Serina
replied coldly.  "I'm sure you don't want your companion to
find out what a monster you really are."
  "MONSTER?" Sheba spoke up.  "What in HADES are you talking
about, Serina?"
  "And just who might you be?" Serina asked Sheba.
  Sheba identified herself to the woman.
  "Well, CAPTAIN Sheba," Serina replied, "what I am saying
is true.  Apollo is nothing more than a brute.  I could tell
you stories about Apollo that would make you want to kill
him yourself.  My advice to you is simple: if you are
involved with him, get out of it while you still can before
he does to you what he did to me."
  "Listen, Lady," Sheba snapped, "I don't know what kind of
felgercarb the CYLONS have been filling your brain with, but
I'M telling you I know for a FACT that Apollo is one of the
kindest, gentle--"
  "Fel-ger-carb?" Serina asked, confused.
  "Yes, FELGERCARB," Sheba continued angrily.  "Pure and
simple, one hundred percent unadulterated FELGERCARB!"
  As the two women argued, Apollo became fixated upon
Serina's question.  An idea popped into his mind.  He
quickly turned toward Sheba and began gesturing wildly to
attract the woman's attention.
  Sheba was about to continue dressing Serina down, but her
attention was drawn to Apollo as she saw his gesturing
through her peripheral vision.  She turned her head toward
the man.
  Apollo quickly gestured for Sheba to switch her
communicator back to the Colonial frequency.  The woman
quickly complied.
  "Sheba," Apollo said hurriedly, "let me ask you something:
How can a woman who lived most of her life back in the
Colonies on the planet Caprica not know the word
'felgercarb'?"
  "What are you talking about, Apollo?" a confused Sheba
asked.
  "I'm talking about 'felgercarb'," Apollo replied.  "Serina
acted like she'd never heard that word before?"
  "I don't get it," Sheba replied, still confused.
  "When Serina said 'felgercarb', Sheba," Apollo explained.
"It was the first time she'd either heard or tried to
pronounce that word."
  "Are you sure?" Sheba asked, skepticism obvious in her
voice.
  "Yes, I'm sure!" Apollo exclaimed excitedly.  "I don't
know who this person really is, but I know who she isn't:
MY Serina."
  "I don't know. . ." Sheba replied.
  "I'm SURE of it," Apollo said.  "Now switch your
communicator back to one sixty-two point four-seven-five,
and get ready to start scanning her Marauder for a weakness
so I can beat her."
  Without waiting for Sheba's response, Apollo switched his
communicator, then called out to his opponent.
  "Serina," he called out, "I'm ready to get started."  He
grinned to himself, then continued.  "Let's get this
FELGERCARB over with!"
  With that, he activated his Viper's thrusters.  The sleek
fighter rocketed away from Sheba and on toward Serina.

  Serina was angered by Apollo's sudden insolence.  She had
expected the man to maintain his air of innocence.  At the
very least, she had expected the man to begin begging for
mercy from her vengeance.  No matter.  If he wasn't begging
for mercy now, he soon would be as she started blasting away
his Viper bit by bit.
  "I'm going in," Serina called out to her escort as she
fired up her thrusters.  "Maintain surveillance of the
area."
  "By your command," came the response from the Raider's
lead centurion as she hurtled away from the craft and onward
toward Apollo.

  As Apollo's Viper streaked toward Serina, he quickly
switched his scanner to combat mode.  In order to achieve
greater freedom of movement in the cramped confines of the
cockpit, the colonel quickly unfastened the chain securing
his dress uniform cape, then quickly pushed the garment off
his shoulders.  As the space between his and Serina's
fighters rapidly decreased, the man began to verbally count
down the distance remaining.
  "Twelve. . .eleven. . .ten. . .nine. . .eight. . .seven. .
.six. . .FIVE!"  At 'five', Apollo quickly threw his Viper
into a hard right turn, then energized the fighter's twin
turbolaser cannons.  His scanner showed Serina doing the
same with her Marauder.
  Apollo took a deep breath to steady his nerves, then swung
his Viper around in a tight one hundred eighty degree turn
and headed off to engage Serina.

  Sheba nervously watched her scanner depicting the duel
unfolding.  Apollo's Viper and Serina's Marauder approached
each other in what appeared to be a collision course.
Apollo fired a series of laser volleys toward Serina, but
the woman seemed to anticipate the move and quickly veered
away from the lethal beams.  Apollo quickly swung his Viper
over to pursue the Marauder.
  Sheba was sure Apollo would quickly line Serina up in his
sights and destroy the Cylon craft, but his opponent quickly
decelerated, forcing Apollo to overshoot his target.  She
cursed as she watched Serina power up her thrusters and
begin pursuing Apollo, who had quickly initiated a series of
complex yet ultimately unsuccessful series of evasive
maneuvers.
  So far the scanner in Sheba's Viper failed to provide the
woman with a clue as to what gave the Maruader its advantage
over the Viper.  So far, she could only conclude that the
new Cylon fighter was simply a superior combat spacecraft,
and evidence also seemed to indicate that Serina was simply
a better pilot than Apollo.
  No.  Sheba would not concede to that.  Apollo was the best
pilot she had ever encountered, bar none.  Serina had to
have a capstone up her sleeve.  There had to be something
that was giving the woman a seemingly unfair advantage over
Apollo, and Sheba had to find that something before it was
too late.

  Beads of nervous sweat dripping down from his forehead
stung Apollo's eyes, but he could not afford to take his
hands away from the Viper's controls in order to wipe the
salty moisture away.  He was having to fly as he had never
had to fly before in order to keep his Viper away from
Serina's lethal volleys of laser fire.  So far, his opponent
had yet to score a lethal blow, but she had scored several
minor hits which marred the once immaculate surface of his
Viper.
  "Ready to start begging for mercy?" he heard Serina call
out to him.
  "I have nothing to be sorry for," Apollo replied firmly.
  "You will, Apollo," came Serina's icy response.  "You
will."
  Another laser blast struck the Viper.  Apollo quickly
threw his fighter into another set of evasive maneuvers, but
Serina matched him move for move.  As if to punctuate his
failure to elude his pursuer, Serina fired and scored
another minor hit on his Viper.  It quickly became clear to
Apollo that Serina intended to toy with him in the same way
a felis toyed with its prey before finally making the kill.
The embattled colonel could only hope that Serina's desire
to draw this confrontation out would give Sheba enough time
to find a way for him to turn the tide before it was too
late.
  "Sheba. . ." he called out nervously.
  "I know, Apollo," came the woman's frantic response.  "I'm
working on it!"
  Another blast rocked Apollo's fighter.  He could quickly
feel his time running out.  It was only a matter of time
before Serina grew tired of this game.

  Serina was growing disappointed with Apollo.  As she
methodically blasted away at the man's Viper, she had
expected him to begin frantically expressing panic and
remorse by now--even begging for her to spare his life.
Perhaps, she thought, he only needed a little more
motivation to see the error of his ways and begin pleading
for mercy.  Then she would kill him.
  She carefully targeted Apollo's wildly turning Viper and
fired a low power laser blast into the center of the
Colonial fighter's exposed belly.  The damaged area erupted
with sparks, which momentarily glowed brightly before being
extinguished by the vacuum of space.
  "The next one will be lethal, Apollo," she playfully
called out to her opponent.
  "Take your best shot, Serina," came the man's
incongruously fierce response.
  Apparently Apollo still had some fight left in him.
  She would soon change that.

  Frustrated with her inability to determine what was giving
Serina's Marauder its edge over Apollo, Sheba pounded her
fist in frustration against the side of her cockpit.  She
had scanned every last atom of the enemy fighter, and had
only determined that the vehicle was built with what
appeared to be a hybrid of Cylon, Delphian and Colonial
components.  Sheba was confident that the Cylon components
were not the key to the Marauder's superior performance, and
she also doubted that the captured Colonial technology used
in the machine played the decisive role.  Perhaps, she
thought, it was something in the captured Delphian
technology that gave the Cylon fighter its edge.  She
directed her scanner to focus solely upon the Delphian
components.
  "You had better give me an answer, you electronic
snitrad," she whispered threateningly to the scanner as the
device reconfigured its display.

  Apollo was exhausted.  The battle had only begun less than
three centons ago, yet he felt as though he had been
fighting for three straight centars.  His fear of dying now
and his ceaseless physical exertions in maneuvering his
Viper away from Serina's lethal pursuit was sapping his
strength.  He knew that it was only a matter of time before
his exhaustion led him to be a little too slow in avoiding
Serina's furious volleys, and then it would be all over for
him.
  "Your maneuvers are starting to get sloppy, Apollo," he
heard Serina tease.  "You must be getting tired.  Want me to
put you to rest now?"
  Apollo took a deep breath to steady his nerves, then
forced himself to keep trying to evade his stubborn pursuer.

  Serina was amazed at Apollo's physical and emotional
endurance.  She had imagined that the man would have caved
in by now.  Perhaps the coward's fear of dying was the only
thing keeping him going.  She could certainly relate to
that, for Apollo had given her the same fear in the past.
At least now the man knew what it was like to fear for his
life just as she had.
  But it was not enough for Serina to simply instill fear in
Apollo.  She wanted him to feel the same absolute
petrifaction she used to experience in the countless times
he had inflicted his cruel abuse upon her.  She wanted
Apollo's fear to force him to beg and plead and cry out for
mercy from her wrath just as she had futilely done so many
times with him.  She wanted him to feel humiliated just as
she had done.  Until she had extracted that from Apollo, her
vengeance would be incomplete.
  But she also found her thirst for vengeance being offset
by rising feelings of boredom with the duel.  Apollo had
certainly given her a challenge for a while, but now she was
no longer satisfied with simply chasing her opponent's Viper
all over the area and slowly ripping it apart with laser
blasts.  She was finding herself wanting to simply finish
the duel regardless of whether Apollo pleaded uselessly for
mercy or not.
  She would give him a few more centons to lose his
composure and plead forgiveness.  If he refused, then she
would kill him anyway regardless.
  "Your time is running out, Apollo," she warned.  "All I'm
asking for is a little repentance."
  "Forget it, Serina," came Apollo's sharp response.
  "So be it," Serina sighed as she grew weary of the man's
stubborn inability to admit that he had been wrong.
  She blasted another chunk out of the Viper.

  "YES!" Sheba whispered triumphantly as she finished her
analysis of the Delphian components in the Cylon Marauder.
She had finally discovered what had given the new enemy
fighter its edge.  The Marauder's standard-issue Cylon
manufactured scanners were monitoring the signals of the
Viper's electronic control system and feeding that
information into a automated Delphian control system aboard
the Cylon craft.  No wonder why Serina's Marauder had
outclassed every Viper it had encountered.  That damned
fighter immediately knew what maneuvers Vipers were making
and almost instantaneously copied or countered those moves.
  But there was one flaw to the system, and Sheba believed
it was enough to give Apollo a chance to turn the tide of
the fight.
  "Apollo!" she called out urgently to her beleaguered
friend.  "I found the solution!  Jam her scanners!  She's
using them to guide a Delphian control system that's copying
your every move!"

  As Apollo threw his Viper into a sharp left turn to
narrowly avoid another volley of laser fire from Serina's
Marauder, he could hear Sheba's urgent voice sounding
through his helmet speakers as she gave him the information
he had been waiting so long to hear.
  Jam the Marauder's scanners.
  The naturally skeptical part of Apollo's mind could not
believe that there would be so simple a solution to the
problem of countering the Marauder's combat advantage.  But
he didn't argue with what he was told.  He quickly activated
his jamming equipment, but realized that there was one
drawback to doing this:  the jamming equipment required a
massive amount of power, and that power was going to have to
come from his turbolasers.
  Can't be helped, he thought as he threw his Viper into a
sharp right turn.  Serina's Marauder followed him through
the maneuver, but the Cylon fighter did not match the
maneuver as perfectly as it had all of his other moves.
  Not sure that the jamming technique was working as well as
it should, he executed a series of turns he hoped would
confuse his pursuer.  The Marauder's reactions were
definitely slower and not as precise as before, but Serina
nevertheless still managed to cling to his tail.
  "This isn't working, Sheba!" Apollo called out.  "I still
can't shake her!"

  Serina was momentarily alarmed when Apollo found the
simple solution to countering the overwhelming advantage she
had posessed in the fight.  However, thanks to the excellent
training she had received from Lucifer, the woman considered
herself to be a good enough pilot to be more than a match
for Apollo's vaunted flying skills.
  As she heard Apollo tell his companion that despite
rendering her Marauder's automated control system useless,
he still had problems escaping her determined pursuit,
Serina could not resist the temptation to taunt her
adversary.
  "Of course you can't shake me, Apollo," she laughed
sardonically.  "I'm still a good enough pilot to take you
out with OR without fancy electronics."
  To prove her statement, Serina followed Apollo through
another of his erratic series of evasive maneuvers, then
scored a glancing blow on the man's Viper with a laser
blast.
  "See?" she laughed.

  Sheba nervously chewed her lower lip as she once again
pored over her scanner's archived information about the
Marauder.  She hoped that finding performance flaws in this
new Cylon fighter would not turn out to be like fighting the
Hydra of ancient mythology.  As she studied the Marauder's
design, she came to the conclusion that except for being a
little more agile in space combat, the enemy fighter was
really no different from its predecessor, the Raider.
  "I don't know what to tell you, Apollo," Sheba sighed.  "I
can't find any other glaring weaknesses in it.  It appears
to handle just the same as a Raider does, only it's a little
more agile."
  "That's not very encouraging, Sheba!" Apollo snapped.
  Sheba mentally looked back on her many previous encounters
with Raiders in combat as she desperately tried to think of
a way to help Apollo.  As far as she could remember, Raiders
were an almost equal match to a Viper when it came to space
combat.
  Space combat, yes, but Sheba suddenly remembered that she
had not always fought Raiders in space.  There was a time
during her tour aboard the battlestar PEGASUS when she
frequently fought Raiders in an environment where the Cylon
fighter was hopelessly outclassed by the Viper.
  In the skies above the massive Cylon base on Gamoray.
  "Apollo!" she called out to her friend.  "Head to the
fourth planet.  I think you'll find it a much prettier
ATMOSPHERE for combat."

  As he continued to desperately evade Serina's determined
pursuit, Apollo glanced over toward the small blue and green
planet on his Viper's right.  He knew immediately understood
the meaning of Sheba's comment.
  He swung his Viper over in a hard right turn and
accelerated toward the planet with Serina staying right on
his tail.

  As she followed Apollo's Viper into the atmosphere of the
fourth planet, Serina began to experience sudden doubts
about her ability to destroy her opponent.  She knew that
the Viper's lighter weight and superior aerodynamics would
give the Colonial fighter an edge in atmospheric combat, yet
she clung with determination to Apollo's tail as the man
dove his fighter toward the planet's surface.  There was no
way she would allow him to escape this time.  If he wanted
to fight in space or in a planet's atmosphere or even under
water, she would follow him.  She would end this duel in
triumph or die trying.
  She began to curse herself for not finishing off Apollo
when she had the chance early in the duel.  She began to
wonder if Lucifer wasn't speaking prophetically when he was
warning her about about the dangers of pursuing long, drawn-
out revenge.
  It was time to put a quick end to this duel while she had
the upper hand.
  "It's time to end this, Apollo," Serina sighed wearily to
herself as she began firing furiously at her opponent's
Viper.

  Apollo narrowly avoided Serina's laser volleys as he
rolled his Viper to the left while continuing to dive toward
the surface of the planet.  The woman stayed right behind
him, but the Marauder could not quite match the tightness of
the Viper's turn.
  Sheba's assessment was right, he thought.  Cylon fighters
weren't designed for atmospheric combat.  With or without
the Delphian control system, this Marauder did not stand a
chance in atmospheric combat against the Viper.  Apollo shut
off his jamming equipment in order to free up his
turbolasers.
  "I'm sorry, Serina," he called out to his adversary, "but
it's time to put an end to this."
  Apollo quickly rolled his Viper again, then threw the
fighter into a tight downward spiral.  Serina was trying
valiantly to maintain her position behind the Viper, but it
was obvious to Apollo that the much heavier Marauder simply
could not match the Colonial fighter's tight turning radius.
He quickly pulled out of the spiral, then executed a tight
loop which placed him directly above and behind Serina's
fighter.
  Even with the Delphian control unit, there was no way the
Marauder could escape.
  With a sigh of remorse for the human life he was about to
take, Apollo depressed his joystick firing button.  Laser
blasts erupted from his twin turbolasers, and even though
the Marauder attempted to evade by turning to the right,
Apollo simply cut inside the enemy fighter's turn and fired
a laser burst which glanced off the top center of the craft.
  A small explosion erupted from the damaged area, and the
Marauder was thrown into a spin by the force of the blast.
Fire and smoke began to pour out of the damaged area as the
fighter spun out of control toward the surface below.
  "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he heard Serina scream.  He prayed
that her scream was that of anger directed toward him and
not from the pain of burning alive.
  Apollo's heart felt sick as he watched the woman trying to
correct the spin of the burning Marauder, but without
success.  All she managed to do was level out the Marauder
slightly before the fighter crashed into the forest below.
Less than ten microns after coming to an abrupt halt in the
dense woods, the wrecked vehicle was engulfed in flames.
  "Oh, Lord. . ." he sighed as the realization struck home
that there was no way Serina could have survived the crash
and fire.
  With a sigh of regret for what he had just done to another
human being, Apollo turned his Viper away from the crash
site and climbed back out into space.  The first thing he
heard upon clearing the atmosphere was Sheba's voice.
  "Apollo," the woman asked urgently, "is Serina. . . ?"
Sheba suddenly fell silent, obviously unable to complete the
sentence.
  Apollo did not answer the woman.  He instead called out to
the pilots of the Cylon Raider which had escorted Serina.
  "Cylon escort fighter," he said with a weary voice, "this
is Colonel Apollo of the battlestar GALACTICA.  Tell you
damned leaders that their plan failed.  Serina is dead."
  "By your command," came the response from the centurion
commanding the Raider.  Without hesitation, the Cylon
fighter swung around and rapidly departed from the system.
  Apollo let out an exhausted sigh as he contacted his
companion.
  "Sheba," he said quietly, "let's get the hell out of
here."


                        Chapter Eight

  The silence from Apollo during the return to the GALACTICA
was growing unbearable to Sheba.  She wanted the man to say
something.  ANYTHING.
  "Apollo," she called out hesitantly.
  "I don't want to talk about it, Sheba," came Apollo's firm
but weary reply.
  "But, Apollo," she persisted.
  "Damn it, Sheba," Apollo snapped, "I TOLD you I DON'T want
to talk about it."
  But Sheba would not give up.  She could not just allow her
friend to mope.
  "Look," she sighed hesitantly, "I know how you feel. . ."
  "Oh, like FELGERCARB you do," Apollo growled.  "Have YOU
ever deliberately killed another human before?"
  Sheba sighed.
  "No," she replied softly, "I haven't.
  "Then how in KOBOL can you know what I'm going through?"
Apollo demanded.
  "You're right, Apollo," Sheba replied steadily, forcing
her voice to remain calm.  "You're absolutely right.  I
DON'T know.  And I hope to GOD I never have to find out.
It's been hard enough just WATCHING thousands and millions
of people die because of this God damned war."
  "Well, I can tell you it's not enjoyable, Sheba," Apollo
sighed.  "I'm so damned SICK of this war.  I'm TIRED of all
the fighting and dying.  I've got better things I could have
been doing over the past several yahrens than blowing up
Cylons."
  "And you think you're the only one who feels that way?"
Sheba replied more sharply than she intended.
  Apollo sighed.
  "No," he said.  "But I'm just totally burned out with it."
  "I am, too, Apollo," Sheba sighed.  "That's why I keep
hoping that we get far enough from Cylon so they decide it's
just not worth it to chase us any more."
  "We've been running for four and a half yahrens and
traveled across a third of the galaxy, and they STILL keep
coming after us," Apollo replied.
  "Then maybe we'll find Earth soon," Sheba sighed, "and
they'll be strong enough to help us defeat Cylon once and
for all."
  "I sure hope so," Apollo replied.  "I sure hope so."
  The two pilots lapsed into silence again.

  Lucifer ceased his pacing as the centurion monitoring the
base star's scanners spoke up.
  "Scanners are detecting a single spacecraft approaching,"
the centurion announced.  "Raider class."
  The IL-series Cylon felt a sudden unpleasant sensation
surge through his circuitry.  He could only describe the
feeling as apprehension.  He slowly turned to the reporting
centurion.
  "Only one spacecraft?" he asked quietly.
  "Affirmitive," the centurion replied.  "Scanners identify
the Raider as the one assigned to escort Serina."
  Apprehension gave way to astonishment in Lucifer's
circuitry.
  The centurion monitoring communications spoke up.
  "The crew of the approaching Raider is reporting in," the
centurion announced.
  Lucifer turned away and started walking toward the Command
Center's exit.
  "Do you wish to hear the Raider crew's report?" the
communications centurion called out to the departing IL-
series Cylon.
  "No," Lucifer replied as he walked out the exit.  "I
already know what they are going to say."
  A new sensation surged through the IL-series Cylon's
circuitry.
  Grief.

  With the amount of constant worried pacing he had done
since Apollo's departure to confront Serina, Commander Adama
had more than achieved his personal exercise quota for the
day.  He was beginnning to believe that his son had lost the
fight.
  "YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" came an elated
masculine shout that stopped Adama in his tracks.  He
quickly scanned the Bridge to see where the cry had come
from.
  It was Corporal Karreth, the technician currently
monitoring the GALACTICA's scanners.
  "Commander!" an excited Karreth cried out.  "Two Colonial
Vipers approaching.  It's Apollo and Sheba!"
  As a cheer erupted that echoed throughout the Bridge, a
stunned Adama tearfully glanced toward the ceiling of the
chamber.
  "Thank you, God," he sighed.
  Tigh came forward and joyfully slapped the commander's
back.
  "Well, don't just stand there, Adama," the colonel
grinned.  "Let's get down to Landing Bay Alpha to greet your
son!"
  "Of course," Adama smiled.  "Of course."
  He quickly led the way off the bridge, followed by Tigh,
Starbuck, Boomer, Bojay, Athena and Boxey.

  As he steered his Viper toward the landing strip on Flight
Bay Alpha, Apollo could already see a crowd forming to greet
him and Sheba upon their return to the battlestar.
  "Frack," he sighed to himself.
  The one thing he did not want right now was to be treated
as though he were the conquering hero returning home.  After
the emotional pain he had endured over the past two days,
the last thing he needed right now was to endure a
celebration.
  He supposed he could not blame the crew for their
enthusiasm.  For many of the people aboard the battlestar,
the only way to feel as though they actually played a part
in the war effort was to celebrate the deeds of those who
actually fought the Cylon enemy.
  "Looks like you've got yourself a welcoming committee,"
Sheba commented.
  "Yeah, I know," Apollo sighed.  "I appreciate their
support, but I'd just as soon quietly go back to my quarters
after we land and drink myself stupid so I can forget about
this whole nightmare for a while."
  "I'll bring the ambrosa," Sheba replied.  "Lots of
ambrosa."
  Apollo lowered his Viper's landing gear, then executed a
flawless touch down upon the deck of the Flight Bay.  As he
taxied his scarred fighter toward the mainenance enclave, a
crowd of cheering, enthusiastic people gathered around his
Viper as they escorted the machine and its pilot to their
destination.
  Apollo brought the Viper to a halt in the maintenance
enclave and shut down the fighter's flight systems.  As Tech
Sergeant Cabot climbed up on the Viper, Apollo opened the
cockpit canopy.  Through the cheers of the crowd, he could
hear Cabot addressing him.
  "Hades' Hole, Colonel," the ground crew chief laughed as
Apollo removed his flight helmet, "you're getting about as
rough on these birds as Starbuck."  Cabot took the helmet
from Apollo, then stepped away from the Viper.
  Apollo refastened his dress uniform cape, then climbed out
of the cockpit.  He jumped down off the Viper and onto the
deck below amid the cheers and whistles of the gathered
crowd.
  An enthusiastic Adama rushed forward and embraced Apollo.
  "I'm so happy to see you again, Son," the commander said
in a choked voice.
  "You, too, Father," Apollo sighed as he returned the
embrace.
  As the two men finally separated, Adama shifted his
demeanor back to that of a professional Colonial battlestar
commander.
  "I'll give you and Sheba a chance to unwind for a few
centars," he said, "then I'd like to see the two of you in
my quarters for debriefing.  I'm sure the two of you have
some interesting information about that Marauder."
  Apollo nodded as Adama stepped back to allow the others in
the crowd an opportunity to welcome the colonel back from
the duel.
  In turn Apollo was embraced by Athena, Starbuck and Boomer
before an obviously depressed Boxey stepped forward.  The
colonel knelt before his son.
  "Was it really Mom?" the boy asked sadly.
  The crowd suddenly fell silent.
  Apollo sighed as he stared into his son's eyes.
  "No, Boxey," he finally said, "it wasn't your mother.  I
don't know who she was, but it wasn't OUR Serina."
  "Did you kill her?" the boy asked sofly.
  Once again, Apollo sighed before responding.
  "Yes, Boxey, I did," he replied sadly.  "She gave me no
choice."
  Boxey nodded sadly.
  "I really wish it could have been Mom and you could have
talked her into coming back to us," the boy sighed.  "I miss
her so much, Dad."
  Apollo nodded.
  "I do, too, Son," he replied sadly.  "I do, too."  He
reached out and pulled Boxey into an embrace that neither
wanted to end any time soon.
  As the welcoming crowd began to disperse, Apollo and Boxey
finally separated.  The colonel rose to his feet, then
offered his hand to Boxey.
  "Come on, Boxey," he said.  "I want to take you to a place
that was once very special to your mother and me."
  As Boxey took his hand, Apollo started to lead the boy off
the Flight Bay, but stopped.  He turned back toward Sheba.
  "Would you like to come with us, Sheba?" he asked.
  Sheba smiled at the invitation, but shook her head.
  "No, Apollo," she said softly.  "I appreciate the offer,
but I think you and Boxey should spend some time together
for a while."
  Apollo nodded.
  "Commander Adama wants to see us in his quarters in a few
centars for debriefing," he said.  "After that, you and I
can sit down and talk about some important things."
  With that, Apollo turned and led Boxey off the bay.

  Lucifer had spent the past several centons trying to piece
together the reasons why his plan had ended in failure.  He
was not experiencing much success.
  Why HAD the plan failed, he wondered.  As far as the IL-
series Cylon was concerned, the plan had been brilliant.  He
had labored for three and a half yahrens carefully crafting
his strategy, only to have it brought crashing to the ground
in less than a centar today at the fourth planet of the S-K
957 Star System.
  The seeds for Lucifer's plan had been planted only days
after Cylon defeat at Kobol four yahrens ago.  A coffin had
been found floating in space not far from the dead world,
and a curious Lucifer had ordered the cylindrical object and
its deceased occupant brought aboard for study.  Lucifer
would quickly learn that the dead human female occupant of
the coffin was named Serina, a woman of great importance in
the life of an individual whom Cylon military intelligence
considered as the best warrior on the GALACTICA:  Captain
Apollo.
  At first Lucifer merely kept the cadaver for research on
human physiology, but an idea sprung into his central
processing unit following the GALACTICA's escape from
Baltar's seemingly foolproof trap at Arcta.  When Lucifer
learned that the human slave colony on the icy world
consisted of clones led by a Cylon sympathizer named Doctor
Ravashol, the IL-series Cylon devised a plan to eliminate
the threat Captain Apollo posed to the Empire's goal of
eradicating humanity.
  Instead of eliminating the rebellious slaves following
their role in the destruction of the Ravashol Pulsar cannon,
Lucifer disobeyed orders and struck a simple deal with
Ravashol:  create a group of viable clones by utilizing
tissue samples from Serina's cadaver, and the IL-series
Cylon would report to his superiors that he had indeed
exterminated Ravashol and his people.  Ravashol reluctantly
agreed, and by the time the humans smashed the outer Cylon
capitol at Gamoray, the doctor secretly reported to Lucifer
that he had created four perfect, fully grown clone copies
of Serina.  Just days after Baltar's apparent capture by the
GALACTICA, the four Serina clones had been delivered to the
base star.
  Now in full command of the base star and the Cylon mission
to pursue and destroy the fugitive Colonials, Lucifer
immediately began the difficult mission of locating the
GALACTICA while readying the best Serina clone for the task
of eliminating Captain Apollo.  Serina #3 appeared to be the
best of the series, so Lucifer terminated the other three
clones and focused his attention upon making Serina #3 fully
capable of handling the mission the IL-series Cylon wanted
her to fulfill.
  His goal would have been difficult to achieve if not for
the use of the Delphian memory augmentation device that fell
into Cylon hands following the conquest of Gamoray.  The
Delphian device, which had the potential for implanting
memories and knowledge into the brains of living intelligent
beings, gave Lucifer the opportunity to both train Serina #3
to fly Cylon combat spacecraft and program the woman with an
obsessive hatred for Captain Apollo.
  In the yahren that had passed without any Cylon success in
locating the fugitive Colonial Fleet, Lucifer relentlessly
trained Serina to fly a modified single-seat Raider while
continuing to program the woman with images of a miserable
life on Caprica and an equally miserable marriage to Apollo.
The images of mistreatment quickly became absolutely real to
Serina, and by the time the GALACTICA had attacked and
destroyed a base star in the B-F 109 system, Serina had
developed an obsession with not only killing Apollo, but
every other Colonial human she could locate as well.
  As Lucifer's base star finally located the trail the
Colonial Fleet had left behind in its journey to
destinations unknown, Serina grew impatient in her desire to
extract her revenge upon Apollo.  Lucifer considered this
all well and good, but he knew that Serina's quest for
vengeance would meet quick failure if she confronted
Apollo's Colonial Viper with her modified inferior Raider.
Lucifer knew that Serina had become an excellent pilot, but
without an equally excellent fighter to fly, she would be
hopelessly outclassed by her Colonial opponent.
  He needed a fighter that could match or even exceed the
combat abilities of the Viper.  Using Starbuck's old Viper
that had been captured in the Kobol campaign was out of the
question.  That machine had been shipped to Cylon
immediately after the pilot's capture, was completely
dismantled and now lay scattered in a military research
warehouse where it could not be reassembled any time soon.
For the moment, Lucifer had resigned himself to having
Serina go ahead and utilize the modified Raider for her
mission of revenge once the Colonial Fleet had finally been
located.  With luck, she would emerge victorious despite
flying an inferior fighter.
  By the time the base star had located the Colonial Fleet
almost a yahren and a half yahren later, Lucifer received an
intelligence update from Cylon, and the IL-series Cylon
could not help but feel as though a prayer had been
answered.  The Empire had finally completed a functional
prototype of a remarkably agile single-seat combat
spacecraft which held the promise of being able to outclass
the Colonial Viper.  Lucifer immediately requested the honor
of field testing this new Marauder with Serina as its pilot.
  After rigorously training Serina in the new Marauder,
Lucifer finally unleashed the woman on the Colonials.  At
first, her results showed promise.  In one day, Serina had
shot down a total of sixteen Vipers and damaged two more.
But less than a day later, Serina was gone.  Her ill-
conceived plan of engaging Apollo in a duel had led to
disaster.  The Marauder's secret control system had been
revealed, the Marauder itself had been shot down, and Serina
appeared to have perished when the Marauder crashed on S-K
957's fourth planet.
  At first Lucifer had felt sorrow and remorse over Serina's
death, but as he analyzed everything that had happened in
the duel, he came to feel anger with the woman for allowing
her thirst for vengeance to cloud her tactical reasoning.
Serina's blind ambition had snatched defeat from the jaws of
victory, and Lucifer could feel nothing but contempt for the
woman now that she had deliberately ruined what was once a
brilliant plan.
  Lucifer still could not quite believe that the duel had
ended in Serina's defeat.  The woman had every advantage in
the duel, and should have emerged victorious instead of
meeting death and defeat.  And Lucifer should be preparing
to give a report of success to Imperious Leader instead of
now trying to think of a way to tell Cylon's supreme ruler
that the plan had failed and the Marauder prototype lay
wrecked on the surface of the fourth planet of the S-K 957
system.  The incongruity of the results left the IL-series
Cylon absolutely puzzled.
  As Lucifer tried to formulate the words to explain his
failure to Imperious Leader, he found himself wishing that
Baltar was once again present on this base star.  That human
had invented new ways of making himself look good by blaming
his failures on the "incompetence" of others, and Lucifer
cursed himself for not making an effort to emulate that
behavior.
  Well, Lucifer thought, there was no sense in focusing on
what might have been.  He could only pick up the pieces of
his shattered plan and move on.  With luck, he would devise
a new strategy for defeating the GALACTICA which would
outshine the Serina plan.
  But for now, Lucifer had to submit a report to Imperious
Leader and await to receive what Baltar once flippantly
called "a good astrum-chewing".  He opened his internal
communicator and contacted the Command Center.
  "Command Center," he said, "this is Commander Lucifer.
Prepare a secure channel to Imperious Leader on Cylon.
Notify me when the link is established."
  For once, Lucifer was happy to be so far out from Cylon.
Hopefully by the time the base star established contact with
the home world, the IL-series Cylon would have discovered a
way to gloss over the day's failures.

  "Wow, Dad!" Boxey exclaimed as he took in the view space
the old navigational dome provided.  "This is SO awesome!"
  "That's what your mother said the first time I showed it
to her," Apollo smiled.
  Boxey's smile dissolved at the mentioning of Serina.
  "I still can't believe she's gone," the boy sighed sadly.
  "I know, Boxey," Apollo nodded sympathetically.  "But at
least her spirit remains with us.  She'll never truly die as
long as we remember her and the love she had for us."
  Boxey nodded, then turned toward the star of the system
where Apollo fought his duel with the imposter Serina.
  "What's that star's name, Dad?" he asked as he pointed
toward the distant point of light.  "The one where you shot
down the fake Mom."
  "Colonial star charts don't have a name for it," Apollo
replied.
  "Can I name it, Dad?" Boxey asked.
  "I don't see why not," Apollo shrugged.  "What do you have
in mind?"
  Boxey smiled as he looked at the star.
  "I want to honor Mom's memory with that star," the boy
said.  "I want to call that star SERINA."
  Tears welled up in Apollo's eyes as he nodded.  He draped
his arm over Boxey's shoulder as the two stared silently at
the star Serina.

  The wreckage of what had once been a crashing Cylon
Marauder cut a long, hideous scar in the once pristine
primeval forest.  Fortunately for the primitive lifeforms
living within ten square maxims of the crash site, the
fighter's fuel cells did not ignite when the craft burst
into flames.  Such an occurrence would have left the area
completely uninhabitable for several yahrens until the
radiation contamination dissipated.
  Another lifeform was fortunate that the fuel cells did not
ignite, for this bipedal being would have been the first one
incinerated.  As a bruised and disheveled Serina limped back
to the site where her once seemingly invincible Marauder now
lay twisted, crumpled and burned, all she could do was feel
incredibly lucky to have survived the crash intact enough to
have escaaped from the burning craft.
  Perhaps, she thought, as she stared at the wreckage, she
had been given yet another chance in life.  She immediately
knew how she would spend this new lease on life.
  Serina glanced up into the pale blue sky.  The
unmistakable emotion of hatred burned in her eyes.
  "I'll find you, Apollo," she vowed.  "I don't care WHAT it
takes, I'll find you and I'll make you pay for this and
everything else you've done."
  But for now, all Serina could do was sit upon the trunk of
a fallen tree and stare numbly at the wreckage of the once
beautiful Marauder.

        Coming soon:  A Ghost From the Past, Part Two