Author's notes: This "Battlestar Galactica"/"Doctor Who" crossover saga, "Galacticamania," was cowritten throughout the 1980s by R. S. Hadley and B. J. Rosen, print-fanzine-published by J. R. Janoski's Colonial Enterprises in 1988, and greatly rewritten by RSH several times over. For this online version: Thanks to Lisa Zaza and Erin Gieg for beta-reading; thanks to Rick Perriguey for tolerating all the major revisions when he liked the original version. Yes, this is so old that the fanzine version was done on that mythical object called a typewriter! Disclaimer: This story has nothing to do with the revived versions of either Galactica (Galactica In Name Only=GINO) or DW (Who In Name Only=WINO). It has many other objectionable influences, but not those. This story is in no way trying to infringe on any existing copyrights of Universal Studios or the British Broadcasting Corporation, or any other entities with any claim on "Battlestar Galactica" or "Doctor Who" or, in passing, any other series mentioned herein. This is a labor of fannish love. (In short: mania.) General warnings: deeply insane space opera with a sense of humor (BG with DW attitude, plus some Douglas Adams), gratuitous usage of psychic powers, purple-prose demonic darkness, incidents of torture (mostly telepathic), original characters above and beyond the call of duty, gratuitous MarySue-ism (including women who work like The Doctor in DW), feminism, freestyle chaos, alien spirituality, character death, Time Lord-style regeneration, decidedly non-canon future timeline...something to offend everyone, but any sex is implied. Alternating humor/darkness may cause whiplash. Rating: PG, possibly approaching R (scary bits not for children). There are no italics/bolding in this online version. Please imagine all telepathy (with // marks) and dream scenes/non telepathic thoughts (with / marks) to be in italics. Stressed words are marked _this_ way. Series timeframe: for BG, an unspecified time after "The Hand of God"; for DW, the Doctor in Part 1 is Jon Pertwee (1970-1974) and the Doctor in Part 3 is Tom Baker (1975-1981). (However, Shannon acts as The Doctor typically would for most of the story, trying to put her training to good use.) In the context of this story, Chai is not tea. Stop laughing. ] *** GALACTICAMANIA The high-arched, elegant towers of the Ar'kinlan capital sparkled against the amber sun. The smoothly curved walls with their frescoed swags and flowers rose in a graceful sweep to shelter the people of the Crystal City. The gleaming white walls were broken by crystal windows that scattered sunlight into multicolored dancing sparks. So beautiful was the city that its legend persisted on worlds that had had no contact with aliens in millennia. Standing in one of those crystal windows staring out at the beauty around her with resentment and frustration was a woman who believed in spirit and passion over stagnant aesthetics. Zellie's fists clenched in anger as she tried desperately to control her rising temper. Zardon's platitudes always set her teeth on edge. Presently, he was lecturing her on the long-standing protocols of non-interference in lesser races' development. She could have recited that speech by heart now, she'd heard it so many times. The Lord President's back was rigid, his tall, elegant figure and handsome face radiating his displeasure and distress. His hair was a long sweep of blond, so pale as to be white; his eyes were a rich, deep sapphire that had turned hard and sharp when Zellie had begun to speak. It was the same old argument that they'd had a thousand times before, the same argument others had made, the same argument with the same people for so damned long. She grimaced and twisted her silver pilot's sash fiercely. She turned her head slightly and noticed Aristephone standing in the doorway, her lips twitching as she tried to suppress a smile. Blondly beautiful, she reminded Zellie that her own bright red hair marked her as different from the rest of her people. She blessed her rebel parents for engineering her to be a rebel like them, instead of a milksop idiot like Zardon. Ari's face broke into a grin when Zardon started in on the Laws and Regulations that bound such an advanced society. There was somethIng freeing in knowing that she wasn't the only person on the planet who didn't think Lord President Zardon was the font of all wisdom. "Zellandra..." he was saying; he was the only one who constantly used her full name and it annoyed her unreasonably. Not even her arrogant sister Wendara insisted on this ramrod formality _all_ the bloody time. She could feel the white-hot tides of rage building in her and knew that she was losing the battle. /Oh well, enjoy it!/ she sighed. Turning suddenly, she loosed a tide of invective at the stunned President. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ari's face become thoughtful and wondered briefly what that meant, but her focus was now on releasing a century's worth of frustration. "You sit on your butts watching the misery and suffering of other people and have the nerve to tell me that it's wrong to help them! You ignorant Son of a Beezil Fish!" Of course, she also had a history of fighting and pirating from some of these people, but she wouldn't bring _that_ up now. "We Ar'kinlans have the power to help millions of beings every day and all we do is sit around secure in the self-righteous dogma that we are doing what's ultimately right by ignoring the rest of the universe! You're a lot of pathetic losers scared to do anything for fear of making mistakes! I thought you detested Time Lords, but you act just like them! You're nearly immortal and you've never actually lived a day of your lives! I'm sick and tired of listening to your mealy-mouthed gabbling about things you know nothing about!" She stopped for a breath and Lord Zardon, his face a mask of amazed disapproval, spoke. "Are you quite finished?" His voice was full of withering condescension, but Zellie was immune. "With this planet, yes!" She turned on her heel and stomped across the gleaming white floor of the Council Chamber, her black leather boots ringing out her anger ever more eloquently than even her forceful vocabulary ever could. She was so furious with both them and herself for even trying to make them understand that she failed to notice Ari was no longer by the door. Ari was rushing madly, trying to get everything done at once; even so, she was almost too late to catch up with the rapidly retreating figure of the enraged Zellie. Her arms laden, she darted after Zellie into the spacecraft hangar. She quietly tossed the packages and bundles into one of the gleaming silver spheres and was about to step in when Zellie suddenly realized she wasn't alone. "What are you doing, Ari?" Zellie demanded. "You're leaving?" the slender blonde asked. "Right first time. This planet clashes with my nature - I _like_ interfering, damn it! I was _born_ to interfere! If I don't get back into space, I'll rot away from boredom and frustration!" "I understand. I've been meaning to leave, myself." Ari's quiet words stunned Zellie, who hadn't realized Ari was so unhappy here. She always seemed so self possessed. /At least compared to me!/ Zellie thought wryly. "Besides, who'd take care of you, Zellie, if I weren't along? You need someone sane in your life!" "Then I'll have to get someone else; only the truly insane would travel with me!" Zellie's laughter was infectious and, feeling free in a way she never had before, Ari slipped into the pilot's seat and chuckled happily. She hadn't been sure Zellie would give in this easily. //Where are we going?// Ari telepathed at Zellie as she pulled the safety webbing across her lap. //To my friends, the Hellraisers, whom I've served with before.// Zellie returned. //Oh...// Ari felt a regret for her course of action creep over her. The Hellraisers were, um...ah...notorious. /Oh well, too late now.../ During the late Twentieth Century on a mundane blue-white planet in an unremarkable galactic sector, a meeting took place at Britain's UNIT Headquarters. A tall, white-haired man with rugged features and stylish garb sat at a table in his laboratory, working hard at some scientific experimentation. Tired and a little bored, he wished he could be off again to explore the wonders of the Universe. His name was the Doctor, and he was an exiled Time Lord. A knock on the door made him look up from his work. "Don't bother me, please, Brigadier!" he growled crankily. As he feared, the door opened anyway, but it was a lightly Gaelic-accented female voice that came forth. "It's not Alastair, Doctor. It's me." "Who's 'me'?" he asked, not looking up. Thus he missed her looking him over with interest. Tall, silver haired, with a mighty nose, dressed in amazing dandy style...she liked it. "You'll see if ye look. I'm right here and I'm not going away. All right?" "Aye," the Doctor commented, absently picking up her accent. "I mean, yes. All right." He turned to face this stranger. He saw a tall, slim, young redhead, with curly dark hair and eerie green eyes lending her a gracefully catlike appearance. A very lovely lady, he realized. Hers was a casual style of dress, but attractive: gray jacket, dark blue sweater and slacks, and golden-brown leather boots. "I'm usually known as Shannon," she remarked. "Shannon O'Connor. Renegade adventurer, professional bagpiper, general nuisance, and all-round strange entity. I've been working here at UNIT for a time, but my personality isn't _quite_ in keeping with military restrictions." She grinned wickedly. "I drive authority mad - including the Brigadier, dear ol' Alastair." The Doctor smiled, believing that. "So - you want to be my assistant, I take it? Why didn't Lethbridge-Stewart mention this to me himself?" "'Cause I'm not easily explicable to anyone but myself - and even I have trouble sometimes! If ye don't mind terribly, o' course. I know ye've got Miss Grant, but she's hardly the scientist I've heard ye were looking for, now is she?" "Well, no, but...are you qualified?" "Aye!" /If you only knew how much.../ she added silently. "I may act like an accident waiting for a place to happen, at times, but I'm more than just a pretty face." She grinned again. "I was at NASA - and it wasn't to serve the guys drinks! In other words, I don't stand around handing things over and saying how brilliant others are." "I don't doubt it, m'dear." He watched her with amused fascination as she straightened up from leaning against the table and wandered casually about the lab. "Cute decor," she commented, observing the blue police callbox in the corner. "Ye keep policemen in there, maybe?" "Ah...no. I keep something very strange in there. It's difficult to explain." "Is it?" Shannon explored further, then stopped before the callbox, appraising it. "Odd. I wonder..." She glanced at the Doctor, then back again. "Could be..." "Hmm? Something wrong?" "Just a weird feeling." /Hmm...UNIT's set up to deal with aliens. Could their Scientific Advisor _be_ an alien? What the Brigadier told me...he's a little strange for human. And look at me! I pose as human, but people always sense a fundamental weirdness. My NASA comrades always knew I wasn't what I seemed. Attractive, whatever he is, though. Pity he has the sex life of a dead sea slug.../ Shannon giggled. /Now how do I know that?/ Shannon smirked, knowing that something about Earth was attracting aliens, either visitors/exiles like herself, or hostiles out to win a Cosmic Olympics Award for being the first race to stage a successful invasion. /But what do they _want_ with it?/ At this stage, Earth was primitive even now; there were definite limits to what could be done with it. /Maybe the gods in assorted dimensions could use it as the ball in an intergalactic cricket match. Except that it might be whacked into a black hole, and that _would_ be a shame. For all their barbarism, these people have created bagpipes, saxophones, pizza.../ "Are you all right?" came the Doctor's voice to derail her train of thought. "Aye, just thinking." She touched the strange blue box, closed her eyes to "see" the interior. It _was_ alien...and a craft... Goddess, it was a TARDIS! /Oh no, I don't need this!/ Quickly, she reached out and 'touched' her host's mind; lightly, but he turned to her swiftly, with a startled "What?!" "A Time Lord!" she exclaimed, recalling an Ar'kinlan insult. "Time-Slime, to coin a phrase." Nervously, she added, "I'm not thrilled..." The Doctor detected her tension and wondered. After the mind-touch, he was aware of her power, but not of what use she might choose to put it. "Evidently not," he replied. "What's wrong?" "You didn't say you were Gallifreyan." "You didn't ask! How could I know I know you'd understand half the things I could tell you, Shannon?!" "An alien can't sense another alien from several feel away? What happened to your recognition power?" /I should talk; I didn't know he was Gallifreyan until I saw that TARDIS.../ "I'm sorry, I never worked on that very hard. If I should know you - if I knew you in another regeneration - I'm sorry. I'm a renegade. I've never been keen on obeying authority - including the Academy's." "Aye? Well, we have that in common." She relaxed, grinning broadly, seeing the Doctor appear relieved. "Actually, you shouldn't necessarily know me, though I was something of a scandal. I was born on Gallifrey, to be sure, but I'm half-Ar'kinlan." The Doctor shuddered. "_That's_ where 'Time-Slime' came from!" "Indeed! But the Ar'kinlan has its uses." She considered what to tell him. "Usually Shannon O'Connor. I'm Jennika, or to be ritually ridiculous, Lady Jennikatrakaleyna. Let's stick with Shannon, shall we? I like it - I 'slipped into something more comfortable'!" The Doctor laughed. "I understand. I've gone by 'Doctor' for so long, I can barely recall my real name, anyway, and it's no real loss." "You're a renegade, you say. I was sent to this planet long ago. Used aliases along the way. Didn't wanta freak people out by staying in one place too long, as my aging process isn't human, and they might think I'm a witch." /Why did I mention that?/ she shuddered. /Leave it alone./ "That...did happen once. Another story." The Doctor saw her discomfort, and steered away from that. "Don't worry about me. I'm in exile here. We're...partners in crime." "And how did you manage to be sentenced here?" "I like to interfere." Shannon gave him a look, pretending disgust. "How horrible! That ol' thing?" "Yes. That old thing." "I've often thought that those pompous regenerated geriatrics of the High Council need a good, vigorous invasion." "Oh, that's very good!" the Doctor laughed, echoing her description of the Council. Shannon giggled delightedly. "Xenophobic old windbags. They sent me here because I was far more than they could handle. They allegedly gave me a choice. Hah. Frankly, they didn't want me there anymore. I didn't like the Citadel; always preferred the desertlands. I was born out there." "Are you a Shobogan?" the Doctor wondered, refering to the desert-dwelling warriors of Gallifrey. "By training. My father was a Prydonian renegade. He met up with an Ar'kinlan on a mission and went back to Gallifrey with her! Their eventual return to the Citadel made certain officials so bloody mad, they were pursued. They ran out, leaving me to put up with the old stuffed shirts. I trekked out into the desertlands until I infuriated them. When I became too weird for them to handle, they sent me and some friends here, on Sol Three. Terra, Earth, whatever. We had fun, ran into endless trouble, attempted to blend in with the population. Here _I_ am, at least. If 'survival of the fittest' is true, I should be very happy - I'm the only survivor of my team. They all managed to be killed off over the years!" "Oh dear..." The Doctor sat back and regarded her for a moment. "Not to annoy you, but why the change from NASA to UNIT? Isn't this boring by comparison?" "No. It deals with aliens, doesn't it! The rest is...a long story. I couldn't bear my superiors, or the red tape, any longer. I detest bureaucracy. I may leave UNIT, too, but not yet. I like diverse experience. With intelligent-minded help, perhaps I could build my own TARDIS." "You must not have thought very highly of your NASA colleagues!" "I had good friends there," she corrected him. "They were as intelligent as Terran humans get, but, face it, they're not Gallifreyan or Ar'kinlan! Those who knew, accepted that I was alien, but they wouldn't have understood time travel. On my own, I created a dimensional cloak that I can teleport and time travel with, but I've found it only lets me travel over whichever planet I happen to be on - Earth, for now. When I came here...I think I arrived _before_ I left Cape Canaveral." "Not a paradox..." the Doctor sighed. "Beware the Blinovich Limitation Effect!" "Aye. Well, I don't intend to return." This piqued the Doctor's interest further. "Are you in trouble, by any chance?" She laughed outright. "Trouble? I'm always in trouble!" The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Of course I am. I left without officially resigning...AWOL." "Marvelous." "Sure! But they can't do anything. They'd never be able to find me, anyway. I'm sneaky." "Would you mind telling me what brought this on?" "Nothing criminal on my part, if that's what concerns you, Doctor." /Well, not very. If you don't count my crashing that jet.../ "It doesn't matter." /Oh, right.../ "This isn't my planet; I'm not bound to its authority. But I'm stuck here, so I decided long ago to enjoy myself and evade boredom." "Ah yes." A sigh. "Boredom. I'm an exiled 'cosmic crusader', with a dysfunctional TARDIS - thanks to the Time Lords - and I may go mad here if I have to stay for the rest of my lives." "Poor dear. I can't help; I'm as stuck as you. Maybe they'll forgive you?" "I can't see that happening any time soon..." But it did. The Doctor gave a relaxing stretch and grinned at his reverie, satisfied that the TARDIS was functioning relatively normally. He'd been overflowing with pessimism half a year ago. So much had happened since then! The mad Time Lord engineer, Omega, had challenged Gallifrey, the Doctor had been summoned to help (in all three of his available regenerations). His defense was a success, and the grateful Time Lords had granted him freedom and returned his TARDIS to use by sending a new dematerialization circuit and returning to his mind the theories they had telepathically blocked. Shannon, away on business as a UNIT agent, missed this milestone battle, but upon her return, and her help in getting the TARDIS space/timeworthy again, he'd resumed adventuring faster than he had imagined possible. To be free...! The Doctor felt the glory of it, and knew Shannon shared the joy. The two of them still retained their ties to UNIT, however. They had a sort of debt to be on hand when an alien's knowledge was required, but they didn't resent this. They had regained the capacity to travel, to choose. And UNIT offered truly odd experiences on its own. Out for a ride in a UNIT jeep, Shannon was sidetracked by a TARDIS materializing by the roadside! Thus she met a young woman who called herself Jolene Whomana. The Doctor also knew her as "Jaleneyalenalerindxinoleiahleh," a regrettable example of tongue-twisting gone rampant. He revealed the reason she was known to him: she had been created as his daughter some five hundred Gallifreyan years ago, by two utterly inebriated genetic engineers. She had been travelling in her father's style for years on end, after leaving Gallifrey, and, hearing of his exile, had intended to drop by to help. Despite Jolene's initial distrust of Shannon's Ar'kinlan ancestry, the two had become great friends. Jolene stayed on at UNIT with them. Having built her own TARDIS, Jolene helped Shannon draft plans for another custom-built Ship, and the Gallikinlan was very tempted to finish it soon. But she wanted to travel with the Doctor for a while yet, and remained with him when Jolene eventually left. She would leave, though... The Doctor jumped, briefly shocked out of his contemplation, then relaxed. It was merely Shannon's bagpipe practice. It did little good for his nerves. He groaned, blinked, and recalled that he had almost taught Jo Grant to play them. The combInation of that girl and bagpipes was an idea that made him cringe! He had travelled with them both on one occasion - a frightening concept. Though one was a renegade alien familiar with astronautics, and the other was a nervous young aspiring spy who'd never passed a science course in her life, they did share the same wacky humor. That could generate some fairly hair-raising antics aboardship... A great squeal by his ear caused the Doctor to jump back. "What?!" Back in real time, Shannon grinned inquisitively, bagpipes round her neck. "Couldn't resist that. You were so out of it, I couldn't snap you back any other way. What's on your mind?" "These last few months. I was fearing I'd miss you if you left," the Doctor remarked. "But if you keep that up, I could convince myself otherwise!" "Hah," came the flip reply. "I doubt it. I'll be in my quarters - kindly call me if we make an interesting planetfall?" She left the control room. The Doctor stared after her, then laughed. She was right, of course. Such wild company _would_ be missed. A ragged, bearded human lay unconscious on a hot, sandy surface, dreaming uneasily. He saw himself as if outside his body, with two people approaching him, a man in white robes and a woman in black whose hair matched the shade of her outfit. The woman knelt by him. "Exile doesn't agree with you, hmm?" She looked up at the man. "He doesn't seem like much." "He's not at his best. To be honest, I'm not certain he _has_ a 'best'. However, he suits my needs." The woman shrugged. "If you say so." /I think I'm dying,/ the human reflected crankily. /You could at least not insult me now!/ He heard an answering laugh. Apparently they disagreed - just his luck. "Do we take him with us or does his ship?" The man gazed into the sky. "His ship is on its way back to retrieve him, as we arranged. Then we can prepare." /Prepare? Prepare for what?/ The woman placed a hand on the human's head. He heard her voice. //Here is some strength and rage to let you survive a little longer. You'll be seeing us again. Dream on.// Dreams shifted into nightmares, his weakness into rage that drove him back into wakefulness. He sat up and stared around himself, but no one else was there. "What was that?" he muttered. "Dreams...frack that. Must get out of sun..." He pulled himself back to his feet and hiked on. In the end, the only others he located were a squad of Cylons searching especially for him, and they were looking pretty good to him by that point. In the lurking darkness of dreams, voices came... /..."Old pirate I may be, but I have my limits, and I don't like that place." ..."THUNDERBIRD - we have big problems down here! Toragon went into the...temple...after Dr. Sebastian and that demon-child. They're locked in there; we can't get in..." "Come back now!" "We can't leave the Captain..." ..."Oh, Goddess, we're dead!" ...A great surge of a telekinetic explosion ripped through the temple, took out most of the area, even hit the ship in orbit...and, oh, Toragon, Serana, Tella, Deran, all the lost ones.../ The redhead gasped and sat up in the darkness, shaking stray hair out of her eyes. "Oh, not my parents...why am I remembering this now?" "Is everything all right, Z?" a voice spoke quietly from the communications system. "I'm not certain, Rory. That's not something I like having called up." "You mentioned your parents. Were you remembering THUNDERBIRD and...?" "Yes," she cut him off. "The demon." "My apologies, Captain." "Ohhh...no, it wasn't your fault. I know who to blame. I fear that he and his child may be returning." "You should probably be aware that we have been contacted by allies of ours aboard an old explorer ship/ battlecruiser named ANTARES. Among their crew is a telepathic researcher who is convinced of the same thing. I must alert the bridge that some of us are feeling it now." "If this isn't random - and since I'm not usually one for prophetic dreams - then I'll back you up on that." With a valiant attempt at alertness, Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck of the battlestar GALACTICA patrolled, surveying their surroundings and monitoring their Vipers' instruments. There were no Cylons, and had been no Cylons for a surprisingly long period; the period of routine had fallen somewhat victim to ennui. "I could almost wish for, well...an entire baseship, to liven things up." "Whew. Isn't that overdoing it slightly? Besides, Starbuck, if you're not careful, you could get just what you wish for." "Right." Brief silence prevailed until Starbuck tried several bars of a song about a girl, a bottle, and an antigrav unit. Apollo winced, sighed. Starbuck, realizing the Captain's outlook on this - at least on duty - shut up, sighing, "This is so...dreary." They didn't realize that this state would soon pass. All they knew was that some fifteen centons later, they detected an anomaly. This resolved itself into what appeared to be a warship. It made no violent moves, simply continued its smooth flight through the void. "Do we investigate this, or head back?" enquired Starbuck. "Check it out - carefully." "As you command, fearless leader." "Stuff it, bucko. Let's investigate." Apollo allowed himself to be curious about the ship's origin. /Alien, but not Cylon. It looks like a hunting bird./ As they approached, a totally alien, unidentifiable, crystalline patrol craft appeared and advanced. "Space pirates, you think?" "There's only one, at least that my scanner is showing," Starbuck pointed out, switching to rear scan to verify that. "All the same, I respectfully suggest that we should probably get the Hades outta here." "Well, we could try..." They peeled off, unsurprised that the craft followed. What was surprising was that it began to glow, then seconds later, a ball of light flashed past the Vipers. After several such intimidating runs, it paused right beside them and melted back into the fascinating form of the alien spacecraft. "Are we in trouble?" Starbuck muttered. "That depends," replied a cool feminine voice. "Kick down out of turbo speed, and stand down, unless you wish me to stop you myself." "I'd do as the lady says, Lieutenant. Whatever her ship is, it can outrun us easily." "As you say. Apollo, we've seen these lights before. Except then, it was a whole herd of 'em." "I remember." "You may discuss this later, humans...assuming you _are_ humans. Right now, I invite you to obey my instructions. You'll learn what's going on, but right now, slow down, turn, and head back to that ship. All right?" "And if we ignore the invitation...?" queried Starbuck. "Don't find out. Think about this ship I'm flying." "Got it..." "I knew you would." They maneuvered as requested and returned to the cruiser. As they prepared for landing, they heard the woman again. "Normal landings, please. Behave yourselves. The commanders hate to have their ship screwed up by errant fighter pilots." "Well," Starbuck agreed, "it _is_ a nice ship." Wondering what the frack was in store, he followed Apollo in for landing. Meanwhile, the great battlestar GALACTICA floated awesomely through space, zooming quietly through the cosmic void and searching for a single planet - EARTH. Commander Adama stalked irritably through the bridge, growing more stir-crazy by the micron. He was somehow unsurprised to see his daughter and Rigel playing video games at Athena's station. At least they'd found something to do... Ascending the stairs to the upper level, he eyed the readings on the computers. "My God!" he exclaimed, waking up Flight Officer Omega. "We're under attack!" "What? Where?!" the disoriented young officer spluttered. He stared wildly at the scanners. "Oh, that?!" he remarked, intensely relieved. "Those are just mushie crumbs." He blew them off, destroying the illusion, then remembered to wipe crumbs off his face as well. Adama groaned. "Very funny. Omega - what is the patrol's status?" "Presently beyond scanning range." "Wonderful. Do they need to be rescued?" "No, their fuel should hold out a while longer." "Which is more than can be said for morale..." the ever-alert Colonel Tigh sighed. Apollo and Starbuck disembarked from their Vipers and gazed around the landing bay. A tall, dark man approached them. Dressed much like a swashbuckler, he stood several inches above the two Warriors. Despite the imposing height, there was an air of dignified calmness that suggested he was completely at ease and not necessarily an adversary. A slight enigmatic aura was provided by his blond hair and blue eyes, presenting an unusual contrast with his dark skin. His reddish beard completed the picture. Halting before them, the man surprised them somewhat by grinning and clasping their hands in Colonial fashion. "Greetings, Warriors. You're welcome here." "Oh? Glad to hear it," muttered Starbuck warily. "Yes - your pilot didn't seem to think so," Apollo agreed. "As if we were pirates." "Ah well, excuse Zellie's methods; she's a mercenary herself. Her natural suspicion has helped us a great deal. At least she was reasonably certain that you're what you appear to be and didn't shoot you down." "It's always good news to still be alive," noted Starbuck. "We _are_ Warriors, yes," Apollo confirmed. "Have pirates masqueraded as Colonials?" "It's not unheard of, Captain. So we must be careful, though we're good enough in battle to wreck most opposition. We have reason to be paranoid right now. Tell me again who you are?" "Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck." "And your ship is...?" "The battlestar GALACTICA." "All right. I think we've made contact with people from the correct ship, then." The stranger looked relieved. Starbuck spoke up. "Who are you, anyway?" "I, personally, am Colonel David Auriga. I started out Colonial." "But you aren't now?" Apollo asked in confusion. Auriga spread his hands in a shrug. "I've lived such an odd life aboard this ship that I can't really describe myself any longer." "I think I remember the name Auriga," reflected Starbuck. "He was...you were thought killed in action." "I got better." He grinned cheekily. "No, I was rescued, by the Commander of this ship." "You changed your name." "I found myself working in societies whose naming systems differed from Colonial. It fit better. In answer to further questions, this ship is the battlecruiser AURORA, from a society whose name is best translated as Falconian; the team is the Hellraisers. The name says it all." "You don't look...Warrior-military." "I'm not anymore, Captain, if I ever was. I always wanted to be an explorer, not another fighter in the War. And I got my chance. We're a relaxed team here, but efficient; individualistic, not undisciplined. It _can_ happen," David grinned at Starbuck's look of interest. "The sentiment aboardship is 'To hell with uniforms'," he laughed. "Are _you_ pirates, by any chance?" "Adventurers, intergalactic crusaders, freedom fighters, cosmic swashbucklers - pure havoc," came a familiar female voice from behind them. The two turned at the casually amused, sultry tones, and stared at the speaker as she removed her flight helmet and shook her hair loose. And stared, and stared. They could have kept it up all day - she was likely the most stunning woman a Warrior could hope to meet. Tall and lithe, with a magnificent figure well-displayed by a black flightsuit. Thick, bright red hair was restrained only slightly in a style that kept it out of her electric blue eyes, but let most of its incredible length trail down in back of her. It curled around her tanned, strong-boned features, and what was tied back indicated that it could easily reach the floor. Her amused smile suggested she knew full well, and enjoyed, the effect she had on men. Full of supreme self-confidence, she stood in a relaxed fashion, appraising the Warriors. They noted some type of sword at her belt; judging from her gorgeously athletic build, and the comfortable way she wore the weapon, they had no doubt she could probably use it to devastating effect. David cleared his throat, breaking them out of their trance. "This is Zellandra - one of the hottest pilots and most skillful fighters around. It's always a good thing to know she's on our side." "Call me Zellie if it appeals to you," she advised with a grin as striking as the rest of her. /_Everything_ about you appeals to me/, Starbuck reflected. This woman was such a wondrous creature, it nearly rendered him comatose. /What a concept - I don't need to drink to feel completely drunk!/ He stared into her eyes, unable to look away. Zellie met his look with her own steady blue gaze. Eyes widening, she stared intently. Starbuck heard her voice in his mind, and realized that, along with all her other virtues, she was a telepath. //Human - have you heard of Chai? We may have made contact...// "What?" He blinked and shook his head. To his astonishment, this amazon wench stepped forward, pulled him to her, and kissed him passionately. He almost threw a coronary on the spot, but his typical nature happily took advantage of the situation to hold her as closely as possible. When she released him, he swallowed hard and nearly collapsed on the deck, suddenly feeling far more bereft than made sense. Zellie's eyebrows lifted as she eyed him, then laughed. "Hmm. Excuse me, I think we can take this up again later. I'll be on the bridge." Turning, with a nod to David and the guests, she swiftly left the bay. "Gods, old buddy, what is it about you?" demanded Apollo. "How do you do it?" "Heh..." Starbuck laughed weakly. "I don't know. I think this woman may be altogether more than I can handle..." /Oh, but I hope not!/ "She's Ar'kinlan," David explained. "Ar'kinlan women may be the most...compelling females in any part of, oh, the whole Universe...or at least this galaxy." He grinned broadly. "She seems to like you." "An understatement," mumbled Starbuck. He stared after the path of her departure. "Awesome..." "If you're in any shape to walk, we should be getting to the bridge, as well, so you can meet the Commander." Starbuck shook his head fiercely, winced, and rubbed his eyes. "Lead on, Colonel..." The Commander walked about the bridge, assuring herself that things were running normally. She leaned over a chair, but straightened as the two Warriors were escorted in. They were impressed when they laid eyes upon her. She was tall and wiry, dressed in the swashbuckling style habitual to this crew, including a sash about her waist. But this was not what fascinated them. She was alien: humanoid, but with avian characteristics. Blue-green feathers covered her head, falling somewhat past shoulder-length. Wings of the same color produced a dramatic effect humans could duplicate only with a flowing cape. Glowing purple eyes were framed by long blue eyelashes and feathery eyebrows. Long, lean fingers were given an unnerving look by talons that would have convinced most potential adversaries to avoid after glimpsing them. "Karlani Calvanis," David announced to the Warriors. She crossed over, smiling, to gracefully bow lightly to them. "Captain Apollo, Lieutenant Starbuck," David completed the introduction. "Pleased to meet you," the alien commander replied in a soft, musical voice. "And always wonderful to see you, of course," she added, with a special smile at David. "I imagine David told you about us?" "Enough to assure us that you're not dangerous...at least not to _us_," Apollo confirmed. His gaze lingered on her unusual features. In contrast to most non-human beings they had so far encountered, such as the Ovions and Borays (which might have been considered attractive among themselves), she was pleasing to the human eye. Karlani grinned. "Good. I'm from a planet you can call Falconia. Our ship is the AURORA. No typical battlecruiser, Rory. A synthetic personality and an ability to teleport...and dimension-hop. Some of the abilities were refined by our resident technological genius." She glanced at David as she said this. "And we had...other help." Apollo and Starbuck exchanged a worried look, not lost on David or Karlani. "Excuse me?" Apollo asked. "Your ship is...sentient? Self-aware? Colonel, how can you, as a Colonial Warrior, not find that...disturbing, in light of Cylons?" "Because Rory helped save my life, along with Karlani...because I'm his engineer...because he fights Cylons along with us. We literally couldn't do that without him. In a sense, Karlani and I are his parents. In another sense, we're partners." Starbuck considered, then shrugged. "Apollo, did you ever personally meet CORA, the flight computer of my experimental Viper? The way she talked to me was almost sentient." He chuckled. "She _flirted_. She was no Cylon." Apollo gave him a look. "Leave it to you, Starbuck, to attract a computer." "That's just, as you once put it, the aura of Starbuck," his friend shot back with a grin. "Despite the Cylons, despite all the yahrens the Colonials have been at war, we were always curious about other life, about exploring," David reminded them. "I don't want to see that curiosity lost because of Cylons. Space exploration is compelling." Apollo nodded. "Yes, that's the challenge..." He reflected on what he'd told his brother Zac so long ago, that he hoped they could get back to deep star exploration. "Part of you understands, then." "Yes, but I'm still not comfortable about it." A bridge screen came to life. Apollo noticed and blinked as he saw the face there. It appeared to be a man of Karlani's people, fairly dark-skinned, his hair a headful of deep purple-black feathers, his eyes purple. A smile crossed his lips as he regarded the Warriors. "Captain...Lieutenant...if I may interrupt, it's an honor to meet you. The Colonel advised me to keep a low profile when contacting GALACTICA, because he knew about the fear I might inspire, but I think it's fair to introduce myself to some of you." He tilted his head, blinked, then left the screen. "Okay..." Apollo started, then saw a shimmering of lights by Starbuck and himself. "What?" David smirked. "That's the way he tends to announce his presence...with an aurora." Starbuck rolled his eyes. "Ah. He has a sense of humor, too." "You'd be surprised," Karlani remarked. "I've always wanted to call this ship ZERO GRAVITAS," Zellie commented from her station. The lights became a hologramatic image that wore the same face as the online image. He was tall, like David and Karlani, and wiry, in a black jumpsuit that left his arms bare and his remarkable black feathers free. He grinned at them. "My Warriors..." "You're...Rory," observed Starbuck. He laughed slightly. "I knew a woman named Aurora. I think I'll stick to Rory...that doesn't give me the same memories." "Fair enough, Lieutenant. It's a name I like." He glanced over at Zellie. "I resemble that remark, Captain. Here is one of the reasons she says that." He snapped his fingers and suddenly...had switched genders. Chuckling, s/he pointed out to Starbuck, "And now you know _another_ female named Aurora!" Starbuck winced. "That's a dirty trick!" "Most ships are considered female, so I decided to be able to pass for that onoccasion." S/He returned to male, grew more serious, and continued. "Now, regarding Cylons... Yes, I'm an example of synthetic intelligence, an artificial intelligence or AI. But humans and other organics are my crew, and they understand me better than Cylons ever would. I help _blow up_ Cylons, not collaborate with them. Organics keep me running. Cylons would see this form I take and seek to destroy me along with all organics who don't consent to serve them as slaves." They considered that in silence. Rory watched them patiently. "I think I understand," Apollo confirmed. "I want to." Rory nodded. "That's good. Because I am the ship, all around you, fighting for you, protecting you...trust is necessary, on both sides. I need to know I can trust you, as much as you need to know if you can trust me." Apollo blinked. "I wouldn't have thought of it that way. Thank you." "Even so, I still think that it would be better not to reveal yourself to the rest of GALACTICA's crew unless necessary," David broke in. "Agreed. They'll understand if and when it suits them." The image nodded to Apollo and Starbuck. "Be seeing you." He went away. "Does it take long to get used to that?" Starbuck wondered idly. "What?" asked Karlani. "That appearing and disappearing act. He's there, he's not there..." Karlani and David just grinned. "Now, as David may have told you," Karlani continued, "we think of ourselves as, oh, intergalactic crusaders against dark forces. And yes, that definitely includes Cylons. I've one thing to be grateful to those metalheads for, though: David. I rescued him from a crash brought on by damage his ship sustained in battle." "Why," mused Starbuck, "didn't you ever contact us? If you're as good as claimed, GALACTICA could use you." "We're contacting you _now_..." Karlani replied. "Did you ever notice that you were rarely encountering the redlights after a time?" David enquired. "We were helping contribute to those dwindling appearances. To be honest, we can't destroy every one of them, everywhere, all at once, but we do our best!" "Thank you!" "Also, we have reason to believe that something is coming...something big...and we need to join forces to face it. The Destruction wasn't prevented, so we can't go back to take part in stopping it, because of time laws, but we _can_ help with this." "Time laws?" inquired Apollo. "We travel in time as well as space. You live nice, neat, linear lives - you start at the beginning, move on to the middle, and stop at the end. We don't." "How confusing is that?!" Starbuck asked. "Very. But we wouldn't trade it for anything, at this point." The watching Zellie realized that she couldn't take her eyes off the handsome blond lieutenant. Indeed, she gazed so intently, her friend Aristephone couldn't help but notice. //What's with you, my friend?// she telepathed. //More lust at first sight?// Zellie shot a quick glare at her. //I hate to say this// she sent back //but I'm suspecting...Chai.// Ari struggled to refrain from breaking into hysterical giggles that would ill-befit her. Again, Zellie favored her with an irritable glance. //Well, you're not shy. You've never had trouble relating to men. Why start now? He's a fun loving guy. He'd fit in with the Hellraisers - and he just might be a good match for you.// //Yes, I do sense that, 'Mommy'. Why do you think I'm interested in him? However, I seriously worry about the whole concept of me being _married_. How can that _possibly_ work?// //If it is Chai, you'll adjust; if it's not, just...have fun. Don't resist it so hard, girl, unless you want to make yourself a suicidal basketcase because you rejected your destined lifemate.// //Blazing Hades, Ari, I love your way of expressing a point!// She sighed, thought, /Dear Goddess, whatever gave you the mistaken impression I was ready to settle down?! He's a Colonial Warrior; he stands for the law...and lawful is not exactly what I've been in my life. I'm so much better at complete chaos!/ Meanwhile, a pair of twinkly amber eyes regarded a scanner screen. They belonged to a wolflike male humanoid from Rendelmar Four, known to his allies as Fenris; few non-Rendelmarians could accomplish the sounds in that tongue, or detect the scents that contributed to the language. He and his mate, Cinnabar, were loyal comrades to the Hellraisers, hunters born and bred - and, coming from a planet that was the home of the best Ambrosia makers in the galaxy, exuberant partiers when given a welcome opportunity. Fenris' tousled white hair was worn long like a mane and led to long sideburns that refrained from full beardhood at his chin. His gray-furred features were lean, angular, capped by alertly twitching ears. Tucked neatly about him was a long black tail. Despite the fur, Rendelmarians had the tact not to go around naked; Fenris presented a foresty-shaded ensemble with a loose, belted, green tunic, brown pants, and green, felt-like boots. He spoke now, in a gruff, but pleasantly deep, voice. "Commander?" Karlani glanced over at him. "It's time to protect the GALACTICA - they seem to have encountered two Cylon outposts hidden out in the boondocks, and will be under attack." Apollo found himself staring at this alien, too. He probably wouldn't want to meet this being in the dark if it had a grudge against him, but it...he...was also impressive. "How do you know? We're a rather long way off," observed Starbuck, not expressing any outward surprise over the alien contact. "Good scanners," replied Karlani. "We're going there, so return to your Vipers, Warriors, and make ready for combat. Zellie - Aristephone - I believe there's some fun awaiting you." Zellie sprang to her feet. "I'm always ready for havoc!" Her dignified blonde friend smiled wryly. "I am not. But I am no less willing to meet it where Cylons are concerned." "So let's go. By your leave," she addressed Karlani, and swiftly departed. The others followed. "Commander, we're picking up enemy fighters," Omega called. /At last, some action!/ exulted an unsensible side of Adama's nature. "Put the Fleet on Red Alert. How many are there?" "I count...some four or five dozen." "Sir, there's also a basestar," Rigel added. "Where did _that_ come from?!" Tigh turned swiftly to Adama. "Commander, this ship is not prepared to go against a fully-operational basestar, at the moment. Not, at least, if we would prefer to survive." "Presumably, we would," replied Adama drily. "What are our options, Colonel?" "We...have none, sir." "Explain that, Tigh!" "We have that basestar lurking behind us, two Cylon outposts on either side, and that unusual nebula we just picked up, in front of us. So we have no good choices." "Full speed ahead. We're going through the nebula." Adama turned to Omega at the command console. "Unicom, please?" Omega activated the inter-Fleet communicator. "Attention, Fleet - this is Commander Adama. We will be going through a nebula in ten centons. We must be on half-power for a temporary period of time. All power - except Life Support - shall be diverted to the engines to compensate. Good luck," he added. Omega allowed a wicked grin to fleet over his face as he switched off the com and contemplated the possibilities of an unspecified period of darkness. Most of these included Rigel's companionship. "Commander," he reported, sobering, "the Cylons are following us in." "Launch all squadrons to protect the Fleet as we enter." "Launching." The resulting battle raged wildly, back and forth. Warriors effectively demolished the enemy, only to have the foe rally and return the punishment. The outcome looked unpleasant as the forces from both Cylon outposts joined the basestar's complement. As a result, the odds zipped up from three-to-one to ten-to-one. "Oh, this _is_ lovely," grumbled Lieutenant Boomer savagely. He wondered where Apollo and Starbuck were... At that very moment, two fuzzy voices burst over the com. "Hey! Nice-lookin' odds here!" - unmistakably Starbuck. "Yeah! If we're lucky, we might even survive!" Apollo countered. "IF we're lucky!" Boomer interjected. "Where have you two been?!" "Oh, around and about," Starbuck replied infuriatingly. "You'll be getting your answer very shortly." "By then, it may not matter." "Boomer," Apollo commented, "aren't _I_ the pessimist of this group?" "Oh no!" remarked Sheba. "Commander, the basestar's closing in now! We need reinforcements!" "I'm sorry," Adama reminded her, "we've got every Viper out there now." Starbuck cursed descriptively in an obscure Caprican dialect, for what promised to be some time, until Apollo cut in. "We can't hold out much longer. Where are they?" "Who?" Boomer and Adama chorused. At that moment came what could only be called salvation. A bloodthirsty battlecry ripped eloquently over the comcircuit, echoing through the bridge and the pilots' cockpits. Against the ebony of deep space, a bright streak of blue-white light shot past, followed swiftly by a second such object. "What the frack?" came assorted mutters. A female voice drifted fuzzily over the com: "Excuse my rash friend - the sight of Cylons drives her berserk." To back up the woman's statement, Cylon raiders exploded into beautiful multicolored fireballs wherever the first light ship travelled, all around the astonished pilots.. "Frack!" remarked Boomer. "He's a good pilot!" "Chuck your attitude out an airlock, dear sir," came Zellandra's sexy tones. "I'm no man." "I stand - um, _sit_ - corrected. Pardon me, gentlelady." "I suggest you don't antagonize her, Boomer," warned Starbuck. "You could find yourself in slightly smaller chunks." "Wise advice. You may want to heed it, Starbuck." A laugh crackled across the intercom. Then, with a dirty mutter of something that sounded like "Try this, you _jent-coman fizzgar_," she blasted another Cylon into its component atoms. "Sure glad she's on our side," Boomer mumbled. "_If_ she is..." Aristephone had slowed her starcraft to Viper speed; it was easier and far less static-ridden to communicate with the slower Colonial fighters that way. But it was also inconvenient. She could be shot down in this mode. Such a possibility rocked her ship with a laser blast. "Oops!" she replied, evading more swiftly than a Cylon could hope to match, then taking it out fast and efficiently. The morale of the pilots was rising now, considerably. It was glorious to see the Cylons being steadily decimated, left and right (even if directions, as Boomer was fond of reminding his colleagues, didn't exist in space). They froze, shocked, as another craft shimmered into being - a sleek, avian battlecruiser - wondering what they were in for now. It seemed to warp the very fabric of its entrance point. A male, human-sounding voice spoke over the com: "Never mind who we are, no time...Warriors, back off from the red-eyes and let us have at them!" "All right, Colonel," Apollo agreed, and ordered the pilots to fake a retreat. "Apollo, are you certain...?" Boomer interrupted, wondering at the wisdom of entrusting the safety of the Fleet to strangers. "Trust me, Boomer," Apollo reassured him. "We know them." /Or we think we do. In any case, they seem to be our best - maybe our only - chance./ The new ship unleashed a great blast of energy. The burst cut a large swath through the already somewhat depleted ranks of Raiders, which had regrouped to strike again, trying to take advantage of the seeming departure. Cheers broke the silence as the realization dawned: allies, at last! Spirits raised by this, the Warriors exuberantly plastered many of the Cylons all through the spaceways. There were not many survivors on the Empire's side. Those that escaped, armor intact, had grudgingly learned a healthy fear and deep respect for the fighters that day. A light, musical voice bantered from the com: "Greetings, Civilized Ones, from the battlecruiser AURORA. I'm Karlani Calvanis, bane of the Cylon Empire! We'd explain...but we hate long explanations! If you'll have us, we'll join your Fleet until further notice." "You're welcome, Commander, after that battle, to come aboard GALACTICA as my guest, so we can discuss it, Commander," Adama suggested, finding himself cautiously optimistic about these newfound allies. "My two Ar'kinlan pilots have expressed an interest in coming aboard GALACTICA - is this permissible? Your Flight Captain and Lieutenant Starbuck can assure you that we will not pillage and destroy..." "Anyone who can fly like they did is most welcome to accompany your party." "Good to hear. Well, Commander, we'll be around if you need us." The cruiser roared off and deposited itself somewhere along the edge of the Fleet. The squadrons returned to GALACTICA with their guests, in celebratory mood. They had known the attitude 'What IS morale?!' too often of late and were ready to have fun. As the two Ar'kinlan crafts came to rest in the landing bay, they were greeted by massive cheers from the Warriors. Zellie leaped from her ship, grinning happily. Her icy-blue stare took in her surroundings, and a definitely malicious smile curved over her lips. Aristephone stepped out of her vehicle with a far gentler smile. A blonde eyebrow cocked wryly into her light hair as her pale blue eyes surveyed the chamber. The tired, fairly bedraggled Warriors were disheartened as the sardonic one snorted. "This is GALACTICA?" she wondered politely. They straightened instantly under that unnervingly blue regard. Adama entered, crossing to them. "I am Commander Adama." "I'm Captain Zellandra...call me Zellie." "And I am Aristephone, or Ari." "You're welcome here, my friends," Adama replied. "Courteous of you," Zellie replied, bowing slightly. "Indeed..." added Aristephone, distracted. Momentarily, she had locked eyes with the tall, white-haired leader and felt something distinctly odd come over her. Adama, too, sensed something unusual and gazed at her for a silent moment. The blond woman smiled again and this one was all for Adama. Zellie regarded this byplay with mild impatience, then laughed. //Rampant Chai, today!// she sent, smiling cheekily, then evaded a semi-irritated whack from her friend, chuckling as she did so. Adama cleared his throat and spoke. "You may all attend to the Officers' Club if you so wish. I think you've earned a break." Great cheers erupted forth and the bay began emptying with rather awesome speed. The Commander addressed their guests. "I would request that you go through Decontamination first." "Because you don't know where we've been," observed Zellie. "Fair enough, but our people have immune systems that tend to work better than your equipment does." "True," Ari continued, "but since we're guests, it would be polite to follow their rules." "Oh, politeness." Zellie shrugged, smirking. "Maybe I'll try that just for once." Despite the celebratory mood, Starbuck had disturbing news to deliver. Much of his mind was taken up with reflecting on the wild redhead; he couldn't think straight in her presence and the effect was like a euphoric laser blast that allowed him to retain consciousness. /Whee...!/ passed unbidden through his mind. But he had to report to the Commander and he had to sound halfway intelligent while doing so. "Commander, we have a problem. Apollo isn't here - I was able to track his Viper going down over that small planet out there. He was alive, but I don't know his condItion." "It was chaotic out there," reflected Zellie. "Frack, I'm sorry. I should've been able to prevent that." Starbuck was surprised that she would take the guilt of it on herself, but annoyed. Was she saying she could do his own job better than he could himself? "Are you serious? That's _my_ job." "My job, too," she replied levelly. "_I'm_ Apollo's wingman. Protecting our own Strike Captain is _my_ job!" Adama sighed to himself. Ari found the words //Now, children...// escaping her subconscious. Zellie no doubt sensed that thought radiating from her, for she shrugged much more calmly than Ari would have expected. "I fly, I fight, I protect comrades: that's my job. We can do that together. We have other things to fight than each other." She addressed Adama. "Perhaps the Hellraisers were able to rescue Apollo." "Let's go to the bridge," Adama decided. "I need to talk to their Commander." Praying that they weren't merely deluding themselves, the two Warriors, accompanied by their guests, quickly left. Apollo groaned. His ship damaged and now out of fuel, both at once? This was simply not fair. He should not even have gotten out of bed this day. He would not now be cruising towards a crash-landing on some stupid planet. The controls were not functioning, so it would be interesting to see if he'd even survive. /Why can't I have some of Starbuck's luck, just once?/ The most unpleasant sight of a planetary surface racing to greet him with unnecessary haste was dazing and terrifying. Repressing a whimper, he clenched his teeth and closed his eyes. He'd rather see as little of this as possible... A great bone-jarring crunch was the ultimate result; he blacked out. He didn't know how long he remained unconscious, but he was roused by a fierce tugging. Groaning, he struggled to clear his head from the fuzzy daze and focus on what was happening. It was difficult. A female voice spoke to him. "You're alive? Good, I wasn't sure! Now wake up! Your craft is burning!" That revived him enough to respond to the urgent tugging on his flight jacket. With his rescuer's assistance, he vacated the cockpit, reached the ground, and staggered away from the Viper. He felt a second person join to share some of his weight so the going would be faster. A good thing that was, for shortly, an explosion some distance away shook the ground. Again, he passed out, realizing as he did so that he was dismayed at his vaguely feeble reaction to it all... A headache was the first thing to greet his second return to consciousness. That, at least, convinced him that he still lived. Feeling a light touch on his forehead, he carefully opened his eyes, wincing momentarily at the light. As his eyes adjusted, he became aware of his surroundings. He lay on a bed, in a room - it looked like someone's personal quarters aboard a ship. But he wasn't back aboard GALACTICA. "Where am I?" he muttered, briefly wishing he could think of a more original line. "Well, hello there, Warrior," came the voice he had heard before. He focused on the speaker and was immediately drawn to the clearest, greenest eyes he'd ever laid his own green orbs upon. The rest of her was also lovely: lightly curly dark red hair, extremely attractive features. Tall and slim, she wore a deep blue jumpsuit lined at the collar by what looked like white fur. "Hello. You saved me, didn't you?" /Perhaps my luck _did_ hold out!/ "I certainly did. And it's lucky I was there for you. The Doctor and I had arrived on-planet and were exploring; then you crashed the scene, literally. I got to you so quickly because your fighter's fuel line had ignited and there was very little time to waste. My propensity for unthinking heroics unavoidably got the better of me," she smiled. "I heard the explosion...and felt it. Thank you...?" "Shannon. And you?" "Captain Apollo of the battlestar GALACTICA." "Ah. Apollo...where have I heard that name before... Got it! Did you ever know a girl named Jolene Whomana?" Apollo shook his head - gently, so as not to aggravate the headache. "Well, she didn't go by that name, of course... Does 'Gypsy' ring a bell?" "Gypsy! Oh yes! Back at the Academy..." Eyes brightening, he smiled reminiscently. Shannon observed, amused. "Aye..." she drawled, with a chuckle. "Yes, I see that you must remember. She tends to affect her friends that way, especially if they're male. Like Sergeant Benton..." she added, apparently to herself. /She was such a mischievous lady...vivacious. I fell for her harder than I wanted to admit./ He blinked. "How do you know her? Why are you asking?" "Because we're friends, and she mentioned her 'Gypsy' exploits. Since I seem to have just rescued the same Apollo she was so keen on, I couldn't restrain the curiosity." "Hmm..." Apollo murmured, lost in thought. "We should see about returning you to your battlestar," she reminded him. She stood, crossed to the door, and called. "Doctor? Our guest has returnedto us." She turned back. "If you can walk, perhaps you'd like to see the TARDIS." "TARDIS? "Refers to 'Time And Relative Dimensions In Space'. Come," she added to his bewildered expression, "I don't expect you to understand immediately. We're space/time travellers. You've never heard of the Time Lords?" "I think Gypsy mentioned them. However," Apollo reminisced ruefully, "that _was_ after a few too many drinks. She talked about a lot of strange things when we went partying. I probably heard half of it all and understood a lot less. The loud background music didn't help..." Shannon chuckled. "Ah, well. She's what's called a Time Lord. So's the Doctor. So am I - or at least half of me is." As his confused look continued unabated, she muttered, "Details aren't necessary. I hate long explanations, don't you?" "I could use one right now!" Apollo almost wailed. "Easy, m'friend. All right, I won't tease you. You're probably not in the condition for that. But, with your head spinning, you might find it most difficult to understand all I could tell you." "I guess so." Apollo sat up carefully. "Ooh... Groggy, but conscious." "Can you stand?" "If you're willing to help me." "Why not, dear sir?" Assisting the Captain to his feet, she guided him to the control room. Apollo entered the strange white chamber and stared, perplexed, at the six-sided central console. He was an expert pilot, but he was certain that none of these controls would make sense to him without some ten yahrens training... A tall, rugged-featured man with a mane of white hair glanced up from the console and smiled. "Hello, Captain. I'm the Doctor." "I'm Apollo. And I'm confused." Shannon came up to him. "Is it that bad?" Apollo nodded. "Sorry. Remind me to explain sometime soon, will you? Confusion is all part of a day's work with the Doctor and me!" "We're approaching the Fleet," the Doctor reported. Shannon glanced up at the scanner and grimaced. "We also happen to be on a collision course with a rather large spacecraft!" "Oops! So we are..." Swiftly, coordinates were reprogrammed. After several wheezing vworps, the view on the screen showed the interior of the craft in which they'd materialized. "Whew. Doctor, I think you need a little lecture about your driving habits..." Shannon observed. Apollo stared. "We're on a ship. How can our ship fit into another without using a landing bay?" "Um...you'll see." The Doctor pulled a lever, opening the doors. Apollo nodded and disembarked. He was back a moment later, staring around the chamber as if he wasn't quite sure of his eyes. "It's bigger inside than out!" he proclaimed. Shannon chuckled merrily. "You noticed!" Apollo nodded. "Well, let's see where we are." She and the Doctor exited...and found they had company: an alien female in a purple jumpsuit, armed with a hunting knife at her belt and a grin full of startling fangs. Her long mane of hair was gray, streaked with auburn, and her light amber-brown eyes were alight with mischief as she gazed at the weird box in the corridor. "Oh dear," the Doctor remarked. "Excuse the intrusion." "Yes - are you going to welcome us, or kill us?" added Shannon. "Goodness!" the Rendelmarian gasped at the latter suggestion. "Why should I do that? I sense no danger about you. I suspect you shall prove to be friends. Time Lords, aren't you?" The Doctor affirmed. Shannon paused, then nodded, deciding she wouldn't go into the twisted aspects of her ancestry. "I am Cinnabar. I am with the Hellraisers." Apollo left the TARDIS. "The Hellraisers? I was with your Commander before that battle. I'm..." "Captain Apollo! You know, you have caused great concern. The GALACTICA called to ask if we had seen you." "I crashed and was rescued by the Doctor and Shannon here. How long have I been missing?" "Oh, a centar or two. We shall remedy that. Come to the bridge, all of you." "Only an hour or so?" muttered Shannon to the Doctor. "I wasn't aware your TARDIS was capable of landing on target!" "There's always a first time, Shannon!" he sighed. Apollo, for the second time, found himself on AURORA's bridge. He stood by as his rescuers introduced themselves to Karlani and David. For the Doctor, it was more of a reunion than an introduction, for he had met the Falconian before. "You might say that I was inspired by him," Karlani revealed. "Except that I'm more of a guerilla fighter. After all, reason doesn't work with such as Cylons." "Nor does it with Daleks..." Shannon grumbled. "Forgive me," Karlani grinned, "I've no wish to trash your ideals, Doctor, but our style works for us." "So I've seen." David looked at Shannon, realized, /Lords, I've seen her before... On Earth? Wasn't it at...NASA?/ His eidetic memory went into overdrive, and he grinned with realization. /Stylish. I've _got_ to talk to her.../ He managed to stay outwardly casual, so as not to unsettle her. Karlani wrapped up her talk with a sigh, and further added, "All I could say is in the ship's computer. If anyone wishes to join us, they can learn our history so much quicker that way." "You hate detailed explanations, too?" Apollo commented, with a sidelong glance at Shannon. "Oh, yes..." Karlani sighed wistfully. "You see, there's always so much to tell..." "The GALACTICA calls," Fenris announced, by way of maneuvering the Commander out of her difficulty. "Thank you, Fenris. Commander Adama! We have your son. He crashed, but was rescued by two travellers. If you truly want him back," she grinned wickedly, "we can teleport him over, save all the time on shuttles and docking." "Anything, Commander. Just bring him back to us in one piece!" "Oh, that takes all the fun out of it!" she chuckled. "Don't panic, we haven't had anyone turn up in a wall yet." With another laugh, she signed off. Meanwhile, Baltar fumed in constant rage. His exile was done. Adama would hear from him about that. Just because a planet was considered survivable by humans didn't mean that one would _want_ to survive there. Had Adama gone out of his way to find the worst possible "survivable" planet on which to maroon him? It was what he would have done himself, had their positions been reversed. He rubbed his beard, which he had retained as a symbol of his experience in exile, a reminder of what he wanted to do now that he was free. He was back aboard his command basestar, which had finally, unexpectedly decided to rescue him. Why had Lucifer decided to do that, when he'd had the chance to work on his own? Ah, Lucifer. He had come to realize how he had always hated Lucifer. For too long on that planet, he'd have given an arm for a sight of the obnoxious robot. But now, he longed for a blaster in his hand as Lucifer reported on the latest battle. "We lost many of our Centurions, but the basestar is undamaged." "We shall pursue and destroy them once and for all." "That is not a thing we will be able to do." "WHAT??!" Baltar howled. For the next thirty centons, the Cylons all throughout the basestar shuddered in their metallic boots as Baltar was debriefed. Lucifer, between the human's shouts and curses, was able to stutter out his report. Fortunately for Lucifer, most of the uproar was directed towards Commander Adama, now centars away, instead of Lucifer himself. He thanked Imperious Leader for that. For two surprisingly semi-peaceful sectons (as peaceful as life _could_ be with Zellie as an ally), life settled down. Shannon had chosen to join the Hellraisers and assist the Galacticans. This meant that she and the Doctor would be going separate ways at last, but she knew they'd meet again. David Auriga still hoped to talk to Shannon, but he respected the Time Lord desire for privacy, and so he waited for a better time. Shannon and Apollo had become friends, and she stayed aboard GALACTICA; she didn't wish to simply jaunt out of his life as precipitously as she had entered it. But though they remained friends, the joys of Chai were affecting others... Starbuck collapsed into a chair by the table Apollo and Shannon were sharing in the Officers' Club. He was starry-eyed, not all there, and Apollo wondered if he was drunk. Apparently not, for he had no mug with him. Obviously, he was out to remedy this. "Barman?" he requested. A mug of Ambrosia was delivered, which he actually paid for himself. Apollo knew he _must_ be preoccupied. "Lieutenant?" "Hmm...? Oh, yes! Barman - drinks for these two." Again, he paid for them. "Uh...thanks!" Apollo consented. Shannon gave her mug a glance that suggested it was a secton-old dead fish. "No thanks, Lieutenant. You really want to see what drinking does to my brain? Have another - you look like you could use it." She pushed it across the table to him. "He always does," the Captain confirmed. "Oh, I feel strange," the blond Warrior observed. "And if I'm correct, old buddy, here's the source of your problem right now." Zellandra had entered and now tossed herself into the chair beside Starbuck. "Hiyah! In the mood for a drinking match?" She eyed him. "No? I know what you _do_ need. Somewhere private with me, where I can...explain. Hmm?" A sly grin passed over the Warrior's face. "I'd like that." He dealt with the second Ambrosia, then rose. "You don't need me for, say, a surprise mission, Captain?" "No, I wouldn't dream of it. You're in need of something, but it's definitely not a mission." Shannon attempted, with partial success, to choke back a wild chuckle. "See you later," said Zellie. As they departed, "Have you ever heard of Chai?" trailed behind them. "Chai? With that mad showoff?" teased Shannon. "I wish him all the luck. He'll need it!" "What _is_ Chai? He's been going haywire ever since he met her." "Well...have you ever been in love?" "I should think so. I'm not _that_ young. Gypsy, of course. And Serina. We married...I adopted her son, Boxey, from her first marriage...then she died. Shot by a Cylon on Kobol." "Oh dear. I'm sorry, Captain." "So am I." "Chai...it's never happened to me, and I'm not certain it will because of my ancestry, but all Ar'kinlans and Gallifreyans are taught about it, soon as they can understand. And it works on humans. In certain ways, after all, we're not entirely different from you." She gave the Captain a quirky smirk, then continued. "It may have been genetically engineered into us as a compulsion to mate with the best genes. Destined Chai-partners, genetic equals, lay eyes on each other - sproing! It's more...complete...than conventional marriage, for it's a total bonding, for all time - lifemates, literal love at first sight. Interesting, eh?" "Fascinating," he agreed, trying not to break out laughing at the concept of his friend mating for life, or ever wanting to do so. "Starbuck, married. I've _got_ to see this. It'll break the hearts of every available woman throughout the Fleet. Well...I've had my drink, and Starbuck's gone to fool around with his bride-to-be, so we can leave now. I think this day has offered all the excitement it possibly can!" They departed, chatting casually. Zellie walked down the corridor, grumbling. Starbuck followed her, wondering why her mood had changed and why he was following her like an eager, begging daggit. /Well, she _did_ invite me.../ She spun back to face him. "This shouldn't happen," she reflected. "I wasn't certain it could, considering my genetically-engineered origins. I suppose I'm being told from on high to settle down, but...how can it work?" "What's the problem?" "Do you know the things I've done out there?" She gestured, suggesting the space beyond the battlestar's bulkheads. "No. What do you want me to know, Zellie? Or _do_ you want me to know?" "It may be a problem for you to learn." Zellie considered, and sighed. They were staring into each other's eyes again, and both seemed to be searching for answers that weren't readily forthcoming. "I was raised by pirates. They were always more than that, but yes, they were pirates. I've gone out there as a mercenary, doing things for money that...weren't pretty. I'm my own sort of Warrior, and I don't know if I can fit here." She shook her head. "Now, I have no problem with casual relationships; I've had more fun than should ever be allowed by sane people. It's the thought of more than that that scares the proverbial frack out of me." "Does it have to be more?" Starbuck grinned. "Live for today! Tomorrow will come as it always does...if we're alive to see it." "Good point. If this _is_ Chai, then it will be more. Chai is supposed to be unstoppable. I guess we'll find out. _Shall_ we find out?" "Could you explain what that word means?" he asked uncertainly. "Oh...destined eternal lifemates. Procreation. The concept of commitment and settling down." Starbuck blinked, then raised a hand as if warding off the thought. He even found himself reaching for his weapon, but didn't know what he could shoot - certainly not the idea she'd just expressed, and not her for saying it. He could think of better things they could do with each other, but...oh, frack, that was overwhelming! "You're...serious? Eternity is a _long time_, Zellie!" Zellie watched his reaction and grinned a bit sadistically. "The day either of us will be ready for that may be the day the Universe explodes." "Huh. I'm up for trying casual first..." "No problem," she replied brightly. "Let's go do that." Adama was off-duty for the 'night' and sleeping restlessly. / //You must beware!// A familiar telepathic voice whispered through his dreams, someone he hadn't heard in yahrens. There was no reason to believe she would still be alive now, yahrens after her disappearance, but he found himself answering her automatically. "Hello?" he called back. //Beware!// was the only reply. "If you're trying to help, it's _not_ helping! What do you need to tell me?" He caught a glimpse of a blonde woman sitting in meditation, eyes closed, striving to project her thoughts with deep focus. An intense woman with silver-streaked dark hair reached out to take the blonde's hands, using physical contact with her as a sort of telepathic transmitter to project more clearly, but still sounded as if coming through static. //This is ANTARES. Can you hear us?// they asked. The darker one added with regret, //We're too far away in the back of beyond right now to get through. With luck, AURORA found them...// The impression of them faded. "Dr. Elspeth? _Alexis_?! What did you need to say?!" There was no response, and that was damnably frustrating. He tried to track the path of where the dream communication had been coming from. There was no sign of them. A feeling of unsettling wrongness grew, and it was worse than the frustration. There was fire somewhere...laser fire, real fire. Darkness: the black of space, of nightfall; a black ship and the matching uniforms of its crew...what? He had not seen that before. "You see it now," spoke an amused voice. "You will be seeing us." Images of that ship appeared, and of a dangerous human-looking crew in black, its commander a female who was unclear to him as yet, for she seemed ever so fond of the shadows. He saw the battles they engaged in for recreation. Stalk and hunt, maraud at will, destroy what they wished and conquer the rest, like the Hellraisers gone badly wrong. One crew with all this power? Adama found himself amidst ruins that reminded him too much of Caprica. "No," he protested. "What are you doing? Isn't it enough for _Cylons_ to be this way? Why do humans do this to humans- why destroy your own kind?!" The other Commander chuckled nastily amidst ever-present shadows. "The humans you search for now attack their own. It is nothing new. But not all of _us are_ humans." "Humanoid, then. Whatever the term, there is still kinship. I ask again, Why?" "There is a certain pleasure in real power, my dear human. I was born to do this, as your Colonial Warriors were born to fight." "With honor," Adama responded automatically. A wicked laugh escaped the stranger. "Honor? It matters very little. We are coming for _you_. Then try to speak of honor." The cold of space, despite fire nearby, ran through Adama, for she showed him a possible future: her men overrunning the Fleet, she on the GALACTICA bridge in his place. "Let me see who I must fight, then!" he challenged. "Granted." The woman in black who blended into the shadows emerged from them. Hair of the same ebon shade, unusual eyes that looked none too sane when she smiled. A red glint shone in those alien eyes. Worse, the grin displayed...fangs? "You will know me. You will know my crew. You knew my Lord, and his revenge will not be denied!" She approached him, reaching out in a 'welcome' Adama wanted nothing of. He backed away, spun about at a presence behind him, and nearly choked at the sight of a maniacal man in white robes, who was not a man, after all. "Oh no..."/ "...NO!" Adama jolted awake, nearly leaped out of bed. "Dear God!" he gasped, and sat with head in hands, trying to calm his body and mind. He sighed. It was typical: when he had enough off-duty time in which to sleep, after running himself ragged for the rest of the period, the dreams would be there, lying in wait. An unsettling side-effect of a Warrior's career, but they hadn't been quite this strong recently, waking him with the intent of reaching a gun; this had been strange. It was fading now, but he knew it hadn't involved Cylons. Fire, darkness, chilling evil... Enough. He couldn't sleep now. Perhaps several hours of paperwork would bore his mind asleep again, enough to knock him out for the rest of the night. It was worth a try... It didn't work. As he sat at his desk, he distracted himself by reflecting on the recent chaos. Entropy might be more exciting than boredom, but it was a lot more likely to kill people. The Hellraisers were worthy comrades, but they introduced even more random chaos into the lives of people who needed, or _thought_ they needed, stability for once. They thrived on being unpredictable. Meanwhile, Zellandra was not merely unpredictable, she was unbelievable in a way he didn't quite understand why he accepted. Her lovely blond friend, Aristephone, seemed to be...indescribable? At least, _he_ couldn't think of any words to speak of her. He hadn't felt that way about a woman, even Ila, in a very long time, although he had a certain fondness for the Council's Siress Tinia; it almost embarrassed him. /Grow up, Commander/, he advised himself sarcastically. He glanced up as his hatch buzzer was signalled. "Enter," he advised. The very object of his fascination did just that, a quizzical gaze on her attractive features. "I sensed you were having a rough night. I wanted to see if you needed help." /Can't hide anything from telepaths.../ "Thank you...Ari. My dreams weren't pleasant company tonight, but I'm used to that. You're...welcome to stay, though." She gazed at him, obviously wanting to be certain. "I realize Zellie's and my arrival was rather, um, melodramatic. We weren't sure we'd be welcome; especially Zellie with her pirate background." She shrugged. "I haven't been...getting in your way?" "I doubt you could," he admitted, staring into Ari's eyes. Realizing he was doing this for about the thousandth time in a relatively short period, he blinked and looked away. "Why am I doing that?" he wondered. Ari smiled. "In a word - Chai." "Chai?" Adama echoed. "I seem to have heard mention of that lately. But what is it?" "It's better demonstrated than discussed." "I was afraid of that..." "Truly? There's no reason to fear." He could not seem to meet her eyes again. "Maybe there is." Ari regarded him somberly. "I realize your pain. Please, don't be haunted by your ghosts. Never forget those you loved, but don't be tortured by the memories." "I wish...I wish I could stop fearing that I'll lose anyone I care about," he admitted. "I have sometimes believed I'm a jinx." "There _is_ a lot of pain in life. But there is also much else. I intend to show you that, if you'll let me. For one thing," she smiled, laying her hands on his shoulders, "you need to relax." "I've never relaxed in my life, you know," Adama exaggerated. "Would you like me to teach you?" The suggestiveness of that comment almost made the Commander break out laughing, but he restrained it. "Thank you," he replied calmly. "I have no intention of betraying you - and that includes, to the best of my ability, not dying when you least expect it!" Adama raised an eyebrow at her. "How kind." He paused, regarding her. "Why do I feel as if I know you so well? You've not been here long, but I haven't felt nearly as lonely since I met you." "I shall demonstrate." She reached up, fingers by the side of his face. "Telepathy doesn't spook you, does it?" "No, it never has. It's always seemed very natural, and not simply because I studied psi-skills at the Caprican Institute." "Ah! As I suspected. Perhaps I can continue your studies. Now close your eyes...I want you to truly feel the link." Adama did as she asked, managing to concentrate yet relax. His awareness expanded in a way he'd never quite experienced before. What he 'saw' and sensed was rather bizarre, yet wonderful. He knew Ari, as she did him, but it went beyond that. Not only did he experience the essence of her soul - like a shining, golden star - but he sensed his own being from her point of view. //This...is...// He found he couldn't express it adequately in words. //Incredible?!// he concluded. He felt Ari's grin. Then, very carefully, she withdrew from the communion, and they both returned to themselves. But the link remained, stronger than before; while they both lived, nothing could break it. "Interesting, yes?" Ari enquired, with a weak attempt at casual. "You could say that!" an amazed Adama replied. "But somehow, the only thing I want to say is...I accept it completely. If this is a second chance, I'm very grateful." "_Shadru mesta lera_," Ari mused. "What?" "I didn't regret this after all," she translated, grinning. "When I left Ar'kinla with Zellie, I briefly thought I might, but...overcame it. Thank you." The two embraced, greatly pleased to have discovered one another. The Fleet managed to be untouched by wartime mayhem for several more days, but there was definitely chaos of another sort. Zellie discovered the game of Triad, and to the great horror of Warriors who insisted it was far too dangerous for women, began to _play_ it. With another sort of horror, they realized that she was an excellent player. Combat tension in the Officers' Quarters began to be broken up with enormous pillow fights, great for stress release. Zellie tended to start them, naturally. The fun was so helpful to the pilots that there was no point in remonstrating with the Ar'kinlan; she had her own type of discipline. Simply because it wasn't entirely ritual Colonial military-style didn't mean it had no merit. Adama began to grow surprisingly fond of her obnoxiousness. The peace-of-sorts was not to last. Confusing nightmares ensued, fraying the nerves of Warriors often already upset by what they faced in their subconscious minds. Apollo, despite this fear, collapsed into his bunk and dropped off to sleep fairly quickly. He had heard from comrades that they, too, had been experiencing frightful dream-scenes lately - not combat-inspired, for once, but pervaded with the sense of total evil lying in wait. Gods, to just have one normal, relaxing erotic dream instead, once in a while... For him, though, that usually involved Serina and was therefore a haunting of another sort. /Oh, let me have some peace!/ his mind protested as it sank into the depths of darkness. Something awaited him there, again. /"May I help you, Captain?" "Who...?!" A woman stood with him, regarding him with amusement and a predatory intensity. "I've seen you..." "Yes, everyone has, or soon shall." "Does proximity to Ar'kinlans increase the frequency of dreams like this?!" "Bright question. No, it's not that; it's my talent acting up. Quite obnoxiously, as it happens, but that was the point." She watched him with a stare that seemed too familiar; her eyes were an unusual reddish-brown, not blue, but he remembered a similar look... "I know you." "Hmm. You are special, my lovely human. Will you come with me?" "Where? To do what? I don't trust you, playing in our dreams as you do! You...oh yes, I know you for what you are." "I admit I am a vampire," she grinned with a lazy sensuality, showing fangs in a sardonic smile as she brushed against him with her hands on his chest. "Why do people feel they must _insult_ vampires so? We are such marvelous company, after all..." An abrupt moment of terror swept over him. "Stay away!" "Ah, no, my lovely. I can give you one of those dreams you were wishing for earlier; nightmares aren't my only talent. You're so vulnerably lonely...it could be quite tasty." Her eyes hypnotized Apollo...his body wanted her, but his mind insisted on control, finding the seduction repulsive. He knew her undoubtedly as the enemy. "Try it, my Captain. Nothing else will satisfy you so much. I can give you this...and anything else you desire. I can be Serina for you, if you wish. What else? Power, perhaps?" "Nothing from you, demon!" he spat, pulling away. "I know what and who you are, who you speak for! Not all of us believe the lies you'll try to speak! I don't, my father doesn't..." "Then rot. The Count and I curse you. You shall see Hades. I shall send you there myself and take from you what I please, perhaps your life. Beware us!" She bared her fangs and swept away. Lightning split the shadows./ Apollo sat bolt upright in his bunk, choking back a scream. "Count Iblis," he muttered. "And an heir. Why do they have to come now? Go the frack AWAY!" Laughter echoed faintly from another place... "Commander..." said Omega in a wary tone, "we have a message coming in...and I think it's Cylon." "Cylon? Why would they...? Hmm..." Adama briefly wondered whether he should answer. "Let it through." Omega nodded. On the communication screen, a human face appeared. It was bearded, with crazed-looking eyes, but remained all-too-familiar. "Ah, Adama." "Baltar. How...?" "My basestar tracked me down and rescued me. I'm back. You are _so dead_, if I get my hands on you." Baltar's nasty grin turned into a maniacal laugh. "Good day to you. Or night. Or whatever it is out here!" He signed off. Adama stared at the screen and sighed. "Well, that was pleasant..." Tigh noted in disgust. /I suppose I should've expected that/, Adama brooded. /Except that I never thought that Cylons would rescue a human. Well, Baltar...thus begins the Game again, eh, you little beast?/ When actual, physical chaos broke out, Zellie was naturally involved, but not intentionally. As she and Starbuck paused in a corridor, talking animatedly, they were rudely and violently interrupted by a truly shocking sight. The rebel's necklace broke on its own in a telekinetic explosion and fell to the floor, engulfed in flames that weren't quite like any flames Starbuck had seen. From the midst of this unholy fire, a clawed, scaly hand reached for its captor. "ZELLIE!" Starbuck shouted, as the alien creature lumbered forth, hands reaching for the Ar'kinlan's neck. The Lieutenant's blaster cleared its holster in record time and he began firing. The only effect his shots had was to draw attention from Zellie to himself. He grabbed her hand and the two ran for their lives, a startled stream of alien curses trailing down the corridor in Zellie's wake, along with a lusty telepathic howl for help. Ari, on the bridge with Adama, jumped and rushed to the passageway. There was no need for explanations. Zellie had never been one for quiet and subtlety unless stalking prey; her psi-transmissions, if excited, could transmit headaches as well as messages. Adama had also 'heard' her; his expression wasn't merely a response to Ari's panic, and he ran after her without asking what the rush was. Apollo, followed by Shannon, dashed into the corridor after Starbuck and Zellie, deep anxiety etched on his face. "What the frack is all this noise?!" "_That_!" yelled Shannon, pointing at the lizard-creature chasing after the two. "By all that's holy..." "No, it's very unholy! Run, Captain!" They ran. Apollo turned back, however, to look behind him as the noise ceased. All he could now see was a small, dark-haired child sitting on the deck, holding an arm limply, an expression of angelic pain on her face. She whimpered, reaching out in an irresistible appeal for help. Apollo started towards her, hoping she hadn't been harmed by the ghastly beast - which was no longer in sight. Shannon grasped his shoulder. "No, Apollo!" she warned. "There is your beast. It's a shape-changer - and it's evil!" The face of what looked like a child screwed up in a mask of alien animosity. Her form flowed, melted, into an Ariean devilope, which sprang for them both. Shannon whipped out what looked like a cape and flipped it over Apollo; an instant later, following a feeling of dislocation, he found himself on what he identified as the deck on the next level down. He stared at his alien friend. "What was that?" She grinned. "Portable TARDIS. A dimensional cloak. Not magickal, just attuned to my psi-skills. Comes in handy. But c'mon, we've got to see if we can help them." "That child - so real!" "It _was_ real - in a sense. But it wasn't a child... Look, we can discuss the paradoxes after we've defeated our gruesome guest and returned it to Zellandra's necklace, where it seems to belong." "Sure!" Apollo exclaimed. "She keeps a demon in her necklace?" "She's a hotshot - it's a sort of freaky trophy she won." "Just how do we defeat the little bugger?" "Oh, cripes, I don't know!" she nearly yelled. "Ask, 'pretty please, could you go away'?!" "Sorry, that was stupid. Um - there's the elevator; shall we go the more conventional way?" "Why not?" They boarded, and the doors closed with an ominous whoosh. Apollo glanced at Shannon in trepidation, noting with some envy that she was retaining her composure well - possibly better, in fact, than was he. He took a deep breath as the doors opened and revealed a scene of pure havoc and pandemonium. Zellie, wielding her energy sword, battled the creature as it mutated from form to form, attempting first to slash her, then to envelop her like an amoeba. However, she was too skilled to be trapped in such a way. Catching sight of Shannon, she grinned fiercely and shouted, "Hey - d'you think it's immune to bagpipes?!" "Lord knows!" replied Shannon. She reached into her cloak, withdrawing a sword of her own. "A stupid question - do you need help?" "You're right...it's stupid! C'mon, lady - dive in!" She did just that, while Ari arrived with Adama and looked on. "Shouldn't we be helping them fight?" Apollo wondered. "We _are_ Warriors..." "Well, I left my broadsword in my other pants..." Starbuck pointed out. "Ah, is _that_ what you're calling it these days?" mused Apollo. "...and my telepathy in my...other...brain......uh, _what_ did you say?" "Never mind," Apollo replied 'innocently'. Serious again, he pointed out, "It doesn't feel right, though, to stand back and watch _them_ fight." "Let them do it," Adama advised. "They know how to fight this creature better than we do." "Otherwise known as 'watch and learn'," Ari added. "You _really_ don't want to be fighting that if you can help it." "Commander, any chance it could be exorcised?" Starbuck asked with sardonic humor. "Somehow, Starbuck, I don't think it would pay attention." The two women made a good team. Zellie was a born fighter and Shannon had received excellent training from her planet's desert warriors. Ari had expected to regard this half-Gallifreyan with suspicion, but she had definitely proved to be a being one could rely on. The two seemed not to require any immediate aid, so Ari waited with the humans for a chance to offer emergency assistance. The demon was devious as all its kind, and now played a mind-trick. It shifted to humanoid and searched for the form that would most unbalance its foes. It appeared differently to each of them, including the witnesses, but strongest to the fighters. Taken aback, they stopped combat and stared in shock. "Father?" whispered Zellie. She saw Toragon gesturing for her to join him. She couldn't help lowering her sword and stepping a pace forward. "You died..." Shannon could not believe who she saw. It wasn't possible. The man appearing now, her dear friend-in-exile, had been blown up and killed; she would have sworn it. He could not be here now. She had _felt_ him die. The logical side of her mind asserted this and she backed away from the vision. "Nathaniel...please go," she insisted. "Stop it..." Shannon began to break the spell. Shouting in outrage //You dare to play around in my memories?? Stop! And let Zellandra go!//, she charged back to battle with a recklessness that echoed her partner's. The astonished beast recoiled, releasing the others' minds, and returned to frenzied shifting. Zellie was almost eaten when she didn't evade quite in time. Ari found an opening in the chaos. She, too, charged forward, Zellie's necklace in hand. Swinging it over her head like a bolo to gain momentum, she flung it through the air at the monster. Flames erupted. The creature unleashed a savage, inhumanly-pitched scream. The bone-shattering shriek caused the human spectators to collapse on the deck, writhing and holding their heads in agony from the hypersonic howl. Even the three aliens instinctively clapped their hands over their ears and clenched their teeth. As eldest and most powerful, Ari began a psychic assault, forcing the monster back into its pulsating prison, face paling from the strain. Shannon, youngest but in command of great control and ability, and Zellie, possessor of mutant psi-strength beyond her age-level, joined her in earnest. Linking hands and minds, they became one truly awesome force instead of three separate, fragmented ones. But the foe was formidable and it was no easy fight. Ultimately, the three-acting-as-one triumphed over the sheer evil of the savage creature. With a last spree of demonic caterwauling, the beast disappeared into the flames, which themselves imploded into the eternal prison of the cube. A great collective gasp was heaved, and the trio looked as if they would like to collapse right where they stood. "Bloody hell," remarked Shannon with typical casualness. "Don't even mention hell," muttered Zellie. "I don't wanta hear about it!" "You crazy pilot," Shannon observed. "If you must keep that demon, guard it better! We don't need Iblis' satanic pets jaunting around the ship!" "Iblis?" came a gurgled groan from the region of the floor: the Commander attempting to speak. "Oh! We almost forgot about you," Shannon apologized. "Are you all right?" added Ari. "No. But I might get better," Adama replied, sitting slowly, "with a little, shall we say, tender loving care." He gave Ari a wicked grin that made her burst out laughing. Zellie knelt by Starbuck and Apollo. "Hey, guys?" she enquired. "Are you dead or simply stunned?" queried the irrepressible Shannon. "Dead," moaned Starbuck. "Ohhh..." grumbled Apollo. "I think only life hurts this much..." He pulled himself up, staring at the women. "You seem to have neglected telling us something rather important! It's Iblis, isn't it?" Ari sighed. "I fear so. But, as we'd been passing through without incident, I hoped it wouldn't need to be told. This nebula we have been traversing - it is Iblis' Cage." "Huh?" came the not-so-lucid reply. "Our people imprisoned Iblis here thousands of yahrens ago. They gave him two things: half the key to his prison, and an ion-drive starship. If he could locate the second half of the Key, he would regain his freedom. Unfortunately for the Universe, even after crashing his ship and losing his demonic attendants, he did find it." "Obviously," realized Adama, "because we had a visitation from him." Apollo and Starbuck glanced at each other, remembering the beastly remains they had seen in the destroyed ship when Apollo had opened the hatch. That had not been pretty... "What was the other half?" Adama asked. "Ah, that. Just the demon in Zellie's necklace." "Shannon," Apollo added, "how did you know about that detail?" Shannon shrugged with a casual attitude that only an alien could pull off while discussing something so confusing. "It's known even on Gallifrey." "And remember - it took three of us to get the thing back in, but Iblis captured it on his own," Ari revealed. "Food for thought!" "Zellie," Adama wondered, "how did you come to be Keeper of the Key?" A strange grin was her only reaction. Ari closed her eyes, grimaced, and did an uncharacteristic thing: she blushed. Shannon, observing this byplay, nodded knowingly, appearing both vastly amused and amazed. "Well, it was sure fun..." Zellie attested. Ari cleared her throat. "Let's not go into that. However, because of her rashness, we have the entire Key and can get out of the nebula. Unfortunately," she giggled, "the Cylons will be unable to follow." Adama laughed, giving her a sardonic look of 'distress'. "That _is_ a shame. We were getting so fond of them, too..." Baltar paced angrily. "Why, why does nothing _ever_ go right??!!" he ranted to himself. He slammed a fist against a bulkhead, howled in pain, and hopped about cursing and snarling. "Perhaps it's because you're a good deal less competent than you should be in your position," a female voice noted. Baltar whirled. Too astonished to manage coherent speech, he stared like a lunatic at a woman who seemed to blend into the shadows, what with the black of her hair and her entire outfit. Her eyes, however, glowed slightly. The intruder laughed. "You need help. Help is coming. This is interesting, Baltar. You want Adama so much, don't you? However, you have no concept of what it takes to command. You're unworthy. I can train you...perhaps even change you...make you more than you ever dreamed you could be, more than human, stronger and better than Adama. Isn't that a thought?" "Who _are_ you, to promise this?!" "You'll learn. Tell me, Baltar, what you want most, and if you want it enough to work for it." "I want revenge, you were correct about that. Right now, though, I want to know...who the frack _are_ you?" She smirked at him. "You remember Count Iblis, I think." "The one who spoke with Imperious Leader's voice." "Vice versa, but true." "The one who brought me to prison in the Fleet, then offered me freedom - but in the end, it was _Adama_ who released me! Because Iblis disappeared!" "He was driven out and exiled. Don't get petulant with me, human! And don't think that Adama was doing you a favor; he released you into exile, and you know what that planet was like." "Oh, I do. How do _you_ know?" "Do you remember the voices you heard when you were unconscious?" Baltar thought back and remembered. "That was Iblis and you? You said you were preparing something..." "So we did." "We also helped arrange for your basestar to return. Lucifer required some persuading; he was enjoying having a ship to himself rather too much." "I can believe that..." Baltar grumbled. "_Think_, Baltar. You're being offered something...unique. You will have a place with us as we have our vengeance on our enemy: Commander Adama and those of his blood, and his crew. We can be...each other's instruments of revenge. Death and destruction...does the idea please you?" "I want Adama dead! Obviously, you know that. Allow me the pleasure of executing him myself." "Well, actually...no." "_What?!_ I live to see him dead!" "We have our own plans. Iblis' desire for revenge is infinitely greater than yours alone. And it _will_ please you to see him conquered and his family and allies destroyed." "After longing to kill him myself? Come now..." "Obey," she advised. "Where _is_ Iblis?! Why must I obey you? How do I know anything you say is true?" "Be silent and have faith." "Patronizing witch," the fed-up Baltar growled. "I will call Centurions to deal with you..." She moved too quickly and was in his face before he could consciously register her movement, then she slapped him. "Don't threaten _me_, Baltar. Don't do anything to deserve worse than that. I could kill you, but Iblis would be annoyed. Ah, you fool. When you passed out on that planet, you were dying. You awakened and recovered with an increased desire for revenge; I helped with that. Then your Cylons found you in time. So, you owe me." "I don't want to owe you." She sighed in disgust. "I think this isn't working. It seems you would have a problem taking orders from me. Generally, I find it easy to seduce men to my will. Very well. There's no need that I work directly with you; you shall deal directly with Iblis or a slave for the rest of this mission. I shall not waste my time. Should you survive the plans of chaos, and your manners improve, I may recruit you later. I warn you not to defy Iblis - he is _not_ in a pleasant mood." Shannon considered the Situation and decided now was as good a time as any to finish work on her TARDIS. She might not have the opportunity later, if things were to be as frenetic as she expected, if Iblis was coming for them. Impressed with David Auriga's skill, as demonstrated aboard AURORA, she teamed up with him. Thus, David had the opportunity to talk with her as he'd wanted, as they tested TARDIS circuits and experimented. "I have a question...it's this memory of mine, you realize." "Oh yes, Colonel," Shannon remarked. "You sometimes seem more Time Lord than human." "Ah? Could be a renegade lurking about in my ancestry!" Shannon chuckled in reply, wondering. "Now...to go at this roundaboutly..." He gave an eyebrow shrug at his word usage, then continued. "For a Colonial Warrior, I've always been rather childlike. My people built battlestars, but I've never lost my wonder for technology and the surprises space always springs. Of course, how can any human be complacent when the Ar'kinlans and Time Lords have accomplished what _they_ have?" "True. But I understand completely, though I'm of both those races." "I feel joy for the peoples who reach out to it and have a dream...like Earth. Despite all its troubles, I like that place - it's so linked to the Colonies, as Commander Adama knows." "Earth." Shannon nodded. "It has its uses." "I'm sure you tired of it after being stranded..." "Exiled, sir." "Oh, I know that, but the other term was diplomatic," David grinned. "I wouldn't want to stay, even in its future. 'A nice place to visit,' and all that. I'm too addicted to spaceflight to settle down. Actually, you could call me a space-travel anthropologist. I always enjoyed dropping in to watch their space launches. Still do, sometimes." Shannon gave him a look, realizing what her crafty human friend was up to. "Aye...if you do that, and know NASA, then you saw me, right?" "Well, I wanted to mention it. I recognized you when you came aboard, bringing Apollo. However, I decided to wait. Time Lords like keeping themselves to themselves." "Oh, that!" Shannon giggled. "I may be a hybrid, but I can be terribly Gallifreyan." "And stylish." "Thank you, Colonel," she smiled. A sigh escaped, then. "Interestingly, the Doctor was on Earth all that time and never recognized me. But he was busy, and I've never been sure if I didn't jump timetracks to an alter-reality when I left for UNIT." She looked unfocused, then snapped back. "Mental stroll - excuse that." David nodded. "It was an alternate," he affirmed. "Ah. No surprise." /After all, Time Lords would never let exiles have access to the main reality, would they? Too dangerous./ Looking at David seriously, she resumed. "Colonel...please remember that Dr. Keller died long ago. She was me, a 'me' I needed to pass as at NASA. It was fun for a time. I am no longer her. Her use ran out when I left. Thankfully, I no longer need Terran alter egos." "I understand. But you do have style - including in the way you left! That jet crash...staging your own death? Why, after you were successful?" "Ah, you _do_ know a lot, don't you! You could be downright dangerous, David, if you wanted to blackmail people!" She grimaced. "Personal reasons, after what happened to an...old friend. And who would question the finality of an exploding jet? I had to get out; I couldn't bear the bureaucracy, so I gave 'em hell. I also chose to be true to my Time Lord blood and withdraw before my participation in history totally altered that timeline." "Logical..." David winced. "Naturally, the bloody High Council shouldn't have exiled me if they didn't want such participation. How could I have resisted being an astronaut, even knowing I'd end up paying for it?" She suddenly laughed and shook her head. "But NASA knows I didn't die - after all, on one of my trips out with Jolene Whomana, we pursued Voyager Two, and I beamed a strange message back." She giggled wickedly. "It said, 'Hi, guys, remember me?!' and included my image." David stared, and broke out laughing. "Lady, you are weird!" "I do my best," she replied with a gracious nod. "Please excuse my terminal case of curiosity, eh?" "No reason to. It makes you more interesting to deal with!" Shannon chuckled. David smiled at that, and his brain contemplated clues even as he worked. His photographic memory called up AURORA's personnel files; something had sounded familiar...paying for involvement by losing a friend? Then it snapped into his mind, and he nearly groaned aloud. /Oh Lords. I think I know who she means... Should I tell her he didn't die, or would she kill me? Looks like _I_ shouldn't have gotten involved./ He clamped down on his mind, hoping he wasn't broadcasting guilt; not good to do in the company of a psi. /Well, she'll learn someday if she stays with us! I'll deal with that then!/ The Black Ship lurked through space. Its true name was not known, for its commander did not bother to reveal it, and her crew followed suit. They ensured that it was merely known on sight...and that sight could sometimes be the last anyone would have in their existence. Now, they stalked big prey indeed, and enjoyed the hunt. The woman who led them stood on the bridge of her ship, looking out upon the stars. She stood tall and arrogantly, frighteningly beautiful. Raven hair curled over her shoulders and fell across one side of her face. A smirk curled over her lips. That face was strong and eerily graced by shadows that highlighted its sinister planes. Somewhat predictably, she was dressed all in black. Her dark brown eyes seemed to glow with a shade that did not befit a human. Not that she _was_ human... She now fingered a necklace at her throat in contemplation, and smiled. "The fools," she murmured. "You have forgotten...I am not tied by the laws that bind the Count." Her dark lashes masked the disturbingly-tinted gaze for a moment, as she reached out with her mind. /There it is.../ Smiling in exultation, she lifted her hand...and lying therein was the glowing necklace Key that had been discussed by the Warriors and their friends. "Ah," she sighed happily. "Never underestimate Jakarla. I have a gift for you, my father..." The necklace faded from her hand. A tall, white-robed figure stalked back and forth in an oddly glowing chamber. His prey had eluded him - but not, he vowed, for long. "Adama has foiled me again. And with the help of my own people! This must not become a habit. My plans shall no longer be frustrated! Baltar, fool though he is, could be of use - the worm likes to believe that he hates Adama even more than do I!" His ranting mood ceased as he cocked his head in a listening position. A great grin crossed his face and he burst forth into laughter. He held out a hand and the necklace Key materialized there. "It is here! And not even Zellandra can capture it from me a second time. OOLINI!" Iblis' unwilling consort, a lovely blue-skinned humanoid, slinked in and prostrated herself before him. "What is your bidding, Master?" "I am going to send you somewhere with a gift for an...old friend. Tell him it is the key to his predicament." Smiling devilishly at his awful pun, he continued. "It is activated by mind-control. Seeing that he _has_ no mind, it could be very difficult for him to use it," he added absently, "but one must try. Tell him that I expect him to destroy Adama, and that you shall be his servant." "Master, I do not wish to go to that mad human." "You _shall_! I command it." "Yes, my Master." She looked down, obscuring the tears in her sparkling ruby eyes. Iblis waved a hand and the necklace appeared in the alien female's own fingers. With a second gesture, the slave girl faded away to Baltar's throne room. Starbuck noted a distinctly ill look cross Zellie's face. Frenziedly, she assaulted her pockets, but seemed not to retrieve anything. "Oh, Goddess..." she groaned, and began to speak in another tongue. It did not sound complimentary. When she seemed concluded, Starbuck dared address her. "What was that?" "Nothing pleasant! Starbuck, it looks as if our favorite beast has absconded with the Key and given it to Baltar!" "What! You mean...Baltar can escape the nebula?" Starbuck realized. "Right first time!" "Oh, frack. We'd better tell the Commander!" They whirled in the appropriate direction and, as if again demon-chased, pounded down the corridors. Upon reaching the bridge, they burst in and dashed up the stairs to the upper level. Ari glanced at them. "You both make more noise than a squadron of Cylons clattering along a metal deck - you're definitely made for each other!" "About the Cylons..." began Starbuck, smirking a bit at Ari's observation. Zellie broke in: "That slimeburger - Iblis, excuse me - interfered and gave the Key to Baltar! He'll be after us again!" Adama sighed. "Of course. I should have known we couldn't win so easily." "What do we do now?" "A very good question, Starbuck. I haven't the slightest idea!" Adama admitted. "At least we have a long head start away from the nebula. Unless Iblis tells him, he won't know where we've gone." "Some hope, that," sighed Zellie. "Care to calculate the odds, Starbuck?" "Not this time..." "Smart. You'd just get upset. Oh, could I ever use some Rendelmarian brew right now..." The slim blue figure of Oolini knelt before Iblis. "My Master..." she ventured. Iblis growled. "Why are you not with Baltar?" "Master, he has lost the GALACTICA." Iblis blinked calmly. "The bumbling idiot. Must I do everything myself?" A pause, then he spoke again. "He has it now; I have just sent the coordinates. Tell him I will accept no more failures, or he shall suffer indeed. Now begone." With a wave of his hand, Oolini faded from sight. Turning, Iblis pressed an urgently flashing button on the console before him. A screen cleared, to show the demonic features of one of Iblis' myriad servants. "Master," it hissed. "All is prepared." It cackled. "Good." A slow smile spread across Iblis' face. "The Squad Leader may begin her work. Adama isas good as dead. So I swear!" Oolini prostrated herself before Baltar. "Your servant awaits your bidding," she stated levelly. The blue skinned wench dared look upon Baltar's face. Her red eyes again filled with tears; she shuddered. "Get me my robe, Oolini," leered the man who grew more like his Cylon masters every day. Oolini rose and thankfully dashed from the room. Iblis' image appeared in a technologically-heightened astral image. "Baltar - how soon can you reach the Fleet?" "Three days' time," the traitor chuckled. "Maintain distance." "What?? I could destroy them..." "Maintain distance, you imbecile, unless you wish to be caught in the crossfire. Adama shall not long evade us." "Exactly what are you planning for him?" Iblis grinned broadly. "You'll see. Oh, indeed, you shall see." And then, full of his power, Iblis threw back his head and laughed demonically...a laugh echoed by his allies and many of his servants...a laugh full of triumph, for - at last - Adama was right where he wanted him. *Hallucinatory Interlude* /The Black Ship had come. A voice and visage emerged from within: a beautiful woman, darkly compelling, her voice quiet yet laced with a certain controlled anger. Everyone in the Fleet received the transmission, mentally if not over com. "I am Jakarla. I speak for the one you knew as Count Iblis. I need to speak to the Council of Twelve. I can board anywhere without permission, but shall ask it of you." Adama stared in disbelief. "I will not give it! Permission denied." A soft laugh. "You fear the truth I shall speak to the people. It threatens your Warrior dictatorship. The Council desires peace - and you always were a people who wished for peace amid the years of Cylon war. Iblis would have led you to peace and freedom." "The Council will hear you, even if the military will not," stated Sire Geller. "Then I have the only permission that matters. But I will visit the people first and speak with them." Contact was broken. And a cycle began again, like that of Iblis' visit; it would not be stopped. The woman stayed with the people, drawing them to her. The evil that Adama knew was her birthright from Iblis was masked by attractive words, "miraculous" deeds, and charismatic presence. The people of the Fleet were quickly drawn to her. Dissenting voices, including some from the Council, protested that Iblis had done this, made them promises, then vanished. "It was not his desire to do so! He wanted to help you, as I do. But he was driven away, by your military rulers and by a people who wish to lead you wrongly." Sensing confusion, she went on. "Those who cast Iblis out. They are a great power, but jealous of his bloodline, including me. You should be aware that the military is being swayed by them even now, that you have other guests in this Fleet who are not of your worlds. They are of great support to Commander Adama and your favorite pilot, Lt. Starbuck. Be warned. They seek to keep power where it is. You are led by a man who promises you a legendary world called Earth; this planet is indeed real but I warn you that it is wracked by war and injustice. It is primitive. His claims that he wishes to lead you to peace are false!" "You speak for Iblis," Siress Tinia mused. "As you are not human, what do you know of our experiences? You set yourself above us..." "As someone who was trained to protect you as my father wished. I know what you experience by being with the people. I see that civilians live in poverty, while the military does as it pleases. True of any dictatorship." "And you will be different?" "Siress, you are a skeptic. I know why; you've been close enough to Commander Adama to be brainwashed. You think the mind control is all one-sided. Amusing. But the people do not find it so, and they shall revolt. They desire freedom! I shall lead them to it. You stand against me?" "Not against the people. I am not military." "But you're in good standing with the dictatorship. Poor, deluded woman." Adama sighed. "You go on and on about the evil of the military. What of you? Your ship is distinctly a warship; you are not armed, but your bearing is distinctly military, and that seems to be a uniform." "Clever, Commander. Yes, I was trained in a military fashion; I help run my father's ship. A most honorable Warrior's upbringing, in fact! But I was trained in preparation for defense against those who attack us, and for revolution." "What is to stop you from setting up a dictatorship once your great 'revolution' is a success?" "I tell you that I will lead these people to freedom, not crush them under martial law once they have their world to live on in peace. I will defend their planet with that ship. That is its significance." Smooth talker. Very smooth. Adama sighed in disgust and blinked at the telepathic sneer he detected from Jakarla's direction. "I am a Warrior, but Iblis and I are not warlords. Freedom and safety and everything you will ever need for survival, that is what we desire for you. We can deliver your needs; Iblis proved that; so have I. I will be your helper, not your...commander." She laughed. "How often does your great leader dare to walk among you as Iblis and I have done? He doesn't know what the people want. I do! I have proven that to them!" "Yes, you have!" came a unison shout from far too many people through the Fleet. Jakarla broke into a delighted grin. "I am honored. What do the people want? Tell your great leaders while they can hear!" "A place to truly live, not ships to run in. What kind of life is this for our children, never to know a planet?" "Indeed. Go on." "We want our own lives! Free of military rule!" Voices continued to speak in favor. Iblis' daughter raised a hand to still the outburst. "You will have what you desire! Truly, you will. I come prepared by my father to assist you. Tell me your choice! If you wish to continue this lifestyle, you are free to do so, but if not... Tell me - and the dictatorship - what you prefer." "WE NEED YOU!" was the consensus. Oh, God, we have gone to Hades... was Adama's thought. "The delightful sound of righteous rage, of a captive people freed of tyranny," Jakarla smiled. "I believe that the dictatorship must suffer as you have suffered for so long. I think, in fact, that we should have a trial. It shall be as the people wish..." Anger erupted through the Fleet. Not all agreed with this decision, which tended to further separate the civilians and the military. "You see? Of course the Warriors do not want the people to be free! You must be free of the Commander dictator, whom the Warriors continue to follow! Perhaps I shall need to command the majority of them dishonorably discharged from the Service. Warriors willing to support me, however, shall be rewarded." "You talk a lot," Adama growled, "you promise and threaten a lot, but you don't let the opposition speak. You are the dictator." Jakarla glared. "I think you also have what you suggest is a 'big mouth.' I also think you're in danger. Ah well, let us not be in suspense. I call the Council to order! You shall attend, Adama, or some of my crew shall drag you there." "Do as you wish. You know where to find me. Carry out your challenge!" Tigh barely suppressed a shiver. "There's a frack of a lot of trouble. It might have been better to do as she requested." "I will not follow the self-proclaimed Prince of Darkness or his daughter, Tigh. She has no right to do this." "The people seem to have given her the right. The Council was supporting her, too. Except for Tinia. Smart of her." An abrupt buzzing flash erupted on the bridge and a small (but effective) squad of black-garbed men - not too distinguishable from Fleet Security blackshirts, in fact - appeared. They began to fire what Adama sincerely hoped were stun blasts, taking out opposition, and then two of them reached him. Warrior training took over (it died very hard); he tried to fight them. One hit him hard in return and joined several others in burying him under an aggressive pile. Their target controlled, they teleported out again. "I do apologize for my methods," Jakarla mused, pacing. Her manner was tense, full of barely-contained electricity, but her voice was almost languid. "He would not come freely." "Damn right I wouldn't," Adama muttered under his breath, dazed and bruised but conscious enough to protest. An angry Councilman's voice intruded. "It would be better if you obeyed those who made this choice! You've been in control too long, you enjoy it too much, and you think only you know what's best." "Pardon me," Adama remarked with controlled sarcasm. "I think I have more experience - and ethics - than this woman who barges in like a conquering hero." "She came to help, and frankly, we need it!" "She has earned nothing! Princess of Darkness, I will not give you the satisfaction of begging for your mercy." Jakarla smirked. "I help your people to freedom and get such abuse in return. Imagine. Is this the behavior of an honorable leader? Sexist insults, of all things. I think we've all had about enough evidence of your guilt by now, haven't we? You're unfit to lead, I would say," Jakarla continued casually. "The people agree." "Unfortunately, the people of the Fleet are naive and innocent. I swear that I love my people, but they follow anyone who promises them food and fuel and guaranteed peace. There is no such thing in the universe as guaranteed peace and safety. It exists nowhere - no, not even on Earth, though I've prayed that it do so." "Earth is a silly dream. These desperate people cannot be led to a world like that, after being used to societies that can get along together without hatred. Earth cannot tolerate humans of different colors; imagine what they'd do to survivors from different planets. You're leading them to destruction. Shameful." "Yet Iblis knew how to reach Earth and promised to lead us there," Geller spoke up with confusion. "Because it was what Adama wished, and he still thought at that time that perhaps what he and the people wanted were the same. But the people wanted anywhere safe and Iblis promised that. Not Earth specifically." Jakarla eyed Adama. "Time to give up on that dream and accept what the people want." "What you want. A people in slavery is what it shall be." "They have that now, courtesy of you and your followers. I say again, you are unfit to lead." "Unfit to be in the Countess' company!" snapped a Councilman. "Countess?" Jakarla smiled. "No, Councillor. My military rank is Squad Leader. But it should be Commander, should it not?" "We should rule it so." "Do that. Adama, I shall take my rightful place." "Your rightful place is not in this life." "Oh, abuse." "Yes. I spit on you in disgust." "Same to you. Your beloved 'Warrior's honor' is fraying noticeably. What does the Council say?" "Command is yours, Jakarla." "Gracious. Adama, I discharge you with the greatest dishonor and disgrace possible, and relieve you of command. You will hand over your insignia." "I will not. You don't have the right." "I have every right that 'your' people have given me!" "You have not earned this rank or this uniform," Adama insisted, "you have no right to wear them, and no honor, either!" Jakarla's great show of patience snapped and she slapped him across the face with strength that caused him to stagger. "I've had enough of you, stubborn fool! Go to Hades and take your followers with you, if you wish." She snapped her fingers and one of her guards caught Adama in a wrestling hold. Baring her teeth in his face, she removed his medallion and pointedly placed it on her own uniform. "To me, you have no rank and no rights. Your people have cast you out. It would please me to teach you some respect aboard my ship. My...other ship, that is. The Black Ship." Jakarla chuckled. "Councilors, perhaps I shall even make this ingrate a crewman of my own, along with his followers who will not listen to reason. You have no death penalty, and I will not enforce what you do not have, so I shall take him for myself, alive." "Commander, you may do as you reasonably wish." "You are ever so gracious and I thank you." Engaging her ship's teleport, she swept out, along with her crew and GALACTICA's previous Commander./ **** This dream was had by all in the Fleet, unnerving the Warriors considerably. It served as an effective warning. It would have frightened them worse to realize that the civilians took this telepathic visitation very seriously. They spoke of their collective vision, backing this newly-seen potential leader wholeheartedly. Rumors of mutiny and revolution spread through the Fleet with intense enthusiasm. It could be difficult to believe that matters could ever grow worse, but this time they did. *** Part 2 Jakarla grinned with delight at her experiment. She was skilled in all manner of attacks, and had fashioned a wicked biological weapon that quite pleased her. Iblis approved of its testing on a servant, who had proceeded to prove its potency by dying, hallucinating with nightmares as he did so. Very fitting result, she believed, for one who was an artist at nightmares. She turned to a man dressed in appropriate GALACTICA garb, and grinned. "Take this to the GALACTICA. Use it, but only on one Warrior. The Count wants Captain Apollo. He..." She paused and felt for an impression, the taste of a particular mind. "He will be at the Officers' Club. Take this and use it." "Yes, Lady." Jakarla sent him to the battlestar. Apollo returned from patrol. He went to the Officers' Club and collected a brew from one of the barmen, not noticing that, despite the uniform, this one was not typical crew. The man had blended in sufficiently for the job he was to do. The Captain joined Shannon, Boomer, and Sheba at a table. As ever, Shannon was engaging in camaraderie with Warriors and steering clear of drinking, despite the setting. "I'm exhausted!" he remarked. "Poor lad," sympathized Shannon. "Drink up," Boomer added. "If you drink enough of 'em, they'll knock you out and you can sleep for days!" "I don't need _that_," Apollo chuckled. He took a deep swig and sighed. "Well, has anything gone wrong in my absence?" "No, nothing yet. But with both Iblis and Baltar on our tails, something's bound to, any time now." Apollo nodded. "Strange about Baltar's baseship bothering to pick him up from that planet. Wonder why it went to the trouble?" "Certainly not out of loyalty?" asked Sheba. "I don't see how..." Apollo paused, almost spoke again, but suddenly groaned. "Ohhh...huh?" "You all right?" asked Boomer. Now, certainly, he'd have gone through Decontamination, and he hadn't landed planetside... "No...I feel...weird..." Groaning again, he attempted to stand, and fell to the deck. "Oh dear. And I thought I had a weird reaction to alcohol..." Shannon hopped out of her seat and knelt by him. Sheba joined her. "No, it's more than that... Why's he going into shock...??" "Oh, Hades - one of you," Shannon directed, "get the medtechs here hyperfast!" Springing from his chair, and managing not to trip over the thing as he knocked it over, Boomer nearly tackled a nearby wall intercom. In the chaos that followed, no one noticed the intruder grin quietly and slip out of the room. Junior Tech Jobar sauntered happily along the paths of the Agro Ship. All was peaceful. The birds chirped softly amongst themselves and the farmers went about their work with a calm familiarity born of yahrens of repetition. Jobar ran a hand across his forehead. "Odd..." he muttered. /Shouldn't be sweating. Rising temperatures could damage the crops./ He crossed to a temperature gauge set in the bulkhead and exclaimed with some horror. "Master-Farmer Carmichael - come quickly!" he called. "Temperature's almost eighty degrees!" He blinked. "And rising!" The Master-Farmer had spent fifty yahrens of his life raising crops for the Colonial Fleet. He couldn't lose this one; GALACTICA was in such need of it... "Stabilize! Cut in the cooling units!" "No result!" Carmichael looked grimly at his young apprentice. "We're in trouble," he confessed unnecessarily. "Evacuate the ship!" he shouted. "Everyone out!" The farmers deserted their tools and ran. As the temperature reached one hundred degrees, they learned how nervewrackingly difficult it was to suit up and stagger bulkily to the airlock with only moments to spare. The temperature increased unrelentingly, and rose until the solar panels could no longer handle the pressure and exploded. Everything alive fried instantly, and the incoming rush of void froze what was left. The remains were sucked out by the vacuum into space. Carmichael, on the other side of the airlock, stared morosely at the wreckage of a yahren's worth of work. All gone. The Fleet would surely starve. He had to report to Commander Adama. Adama reclined in his chair, gazing solemnly at the screen displaying his log entry. "With the Agro Ship virtually destroyed, the Fleet has had to cut down to half-rations in order to survive. My son Apollo has taken strangely, terribly ill. Doctor Salik works day and night for a treatment, but has made little progress. The crew has been reporting an increase of sleep disturbances...bizarre dreams that seem to go beyond even what is typical for Warriors under stress. I have been told by our Ar'kinlan comrades that this, too, is undoubtedly Iblis' work, and is probably affecting the entire Fleet. How can we fight /this/, as well? Our situation has become desperate." Zellandra felt the dreams, the same dream of her parents' last mission as had alerted her to oncoming wrongness. It kept replaying in her mind, being aboard THUNDERBIRD, with her parents, her friend Tella and Tella's brother, Deran, and the attack that had blasted the ship in orbit, along with half the pirate crew. /Toragon...Serana...damn, I couldn't help. There was no chance./ Zellie groaned, and wrenched herself awake to avoid another replay, cursing softly; she realized she was crying. /Iblis, I would cheerfully destroy you for this.../ Doctor Salik dashed from his research lab, calling, "Cassiopea - I've discovered the cause of Apollo's illness. Here, come look." The two rushed back to the lab. Salik gestured wildly at his electron microscope. "Take a look at that!" "What is it?" queried Cassiopea. "I don't know. It's a completely _new bacterium_," Salik announced with his usual manic intensity. "How did he contract it? Boomer and Sheba reported that he was well, if a little overtired, until he collapsed. He did go to Decontamination. So, unless he picked up something that the system couldn't deal with..." "No, I don't think that's it. A strange idea, but have you thought that what he drank was infected with it?" "Deliberate poisoning?" She was aghast. "Who would do that?" "Perhaps a spy?" He sighed. "Well, I'll tell you, we've got our work cut out for us. I've identified _it_, but not a cure. It could take yahrens to analyze!" "And Apollo certainly doesn't have yahrens..." Cassie concluded. Tigh strode over to Adama. "Sir, I've got bad news." "Is there any other kind on the GALACTICA?" Adama asked mournfully. "Thank God we're not in the habit of shooting messengers for the news they bring..." Tigh smiled wryly, then grew serious again. "Sir, riots have been breaking out on the RISING STAR. They're protesting the lack of food." /But that might not be the only reason/, Adama suspected. /Is Iblis getting to them again?/ "What do they expect me to do, Tigh? Conjure it from nowhere?" "The people are growing hungry." "And I can do very little," Adama asserted in distress. "I'm only human - despite legends and rumours to the contrary!" Tigh nodded. He knew what Hades command could too often be, and while ever-supportive of Adama, he was relieved that the full rank was not his... Boxey sat dejectedly, a hand on Muffit's head. The mechanical daggit whined plaintively at its little master's distress. It growled as it detected someone's approach, but ceased when the arrival revealed herself to be Shannon. She knelt by the child, touched by his distress. Children were not of much interest to her, but she owed it to Apollo to help. Boxey glanced up at her, eyes brimming with tears. The 'Gallikinlan' smiled gently and embraced him. "Is my daddy gonna die?" "Salik is one heck of a good space medic. I think he'll find a cure, don't you? Don't worry." She sighed to herself. /And that's _so_ much easier said than done, isn't it?!/ Tigh stared at Adama, worried; the Commander stood, hands gripping the railing, staring straight ahead. "Sir..." No response. He was somewhere else, seeing...Tigh wasn't certain he wanted to know. The Colonel laid a hand on Adama's shoulder, stared into his face, and hissed "Sir!" Adama blinked, startled, and shook his head. "Tigh..." "Right. What happened? I thought you were about to pass out." "I...Colonel, relieve me of command..." "Now? You're not serious!" "My dreams are bad enough; I just had a waking nightmare." "What? Well...visit Salik. Couldn't he help?" "I think not. This is hardly typical, even for me," he grimaced. "Seems to be typical of everyone these last few days, actually," Tigh sighed. "Including me. It's not like battle flashbacks, though, is it?" "Not quite. More like a _haunting_!" "By Iblis," he nodded sharply. "Wonderful. You don't need sleep drugs, sir, you need an exorcist!" "Indeed, Tigh. As do we all!" "Adama, are you serious?" Ari asked in surprise. "Almost always," he replied grimly. Ari smiled despite herself, then continued, quietly. "Your going out to a ship on the verge of riot at this time is _not_ a good idea. It's probably what Iblis wants." "Ari, they _are_ my people." "But do they _know_ that right now? They think you're the enemy, at this point." "I can try to convince them otherwise." Ari sighed and shook her head. "If I can't convince _you_ otherwise...then please be careful. I want you back here safely." "What I _want_ is...to be able to stay here, with you," Adama replied, with a haunted look. "What I _need_ to do is something else again." It was a quiet flight. Athena didn't know what to say to Adama in this present mood, brooding and distracted. She was worried, herself, and guessed that no words would help. But her father intended to find words of reassurance, to go aboard one of the Fleet ships and attempt to sway the people back to reason. This was a disturbingly dangerous idea, which she hated, but no one seemed able to talk him out of it. Athena's eyes were on the controls. Something went wrong as she watched. "What?" muttered Adama and his head snapped up to stare outside. "What is that?" "Father...we're not where we should be, and..." "...and we have company." Barely visible against the deep dark of space was a black ship. "That came right up on us - it can't have been there before!" "It's camouflaged," remarked Adama. "They were jamming us...somehow we didn't notice even the interference. We are in trouble." He reached down to pull out a blaster and nodded at Athena. "Arm yourself. We don't know who or what our presumed boarders are, but I don't trust anyone who pulls this stunt." Athena readied her gun and inhaled deeply. "Frack" escaped on her outbreath, and she shook her head, listening to the unwelcome sounds of boarding. Then she gasped. "Humans?" she whispered. There were men in black uniforms, and they did _look_ human. The woman who swept in along with them had an air of something entirely alien, despite her form. Her eyes, glowing with a cold, red fire, conveyed a different message. A grin crossed her face, displaying predatory teeth. Athena heard Adama exclaim under his breath, a prayer that somehow managed to sound like a curse. "I know you," he growled. "I've seen you in my dreams! What are you?!" "You don't know that yet, Commander? I'm disappointed." He approached her, meeting her stare coldly. "Enlighten me. Your name is Jakarla. I know what the dreams say, but I may have missed a clue in the physical world." "You knew my father; you know me. It's the time of reckoning." Adama studied her tensely, teeth clenched. "Demon-spawn, then." "Oh, don't be rude," she laughed. "I am the end of you. You could show me some respect!" An ironic smile passed over Adama's face, his eyes blazing. "Never. I will resist you, you know that." "What is happening?" Athena asked desperately. She wanted to fire, for the atmosphere was screaming _enemy!_, but she couldn't fire on humans without good reason. Adama spoke one word to her. "Iblis." Athena's mind was decided. She raised her gun. Jakarla laughed. "That is of no use at all, girl. He knows that." "I don't care." Her aim shifted and she fired, hitting a guard who had started to move. "That works." Adama spun round, called her name in warning, and fired past her, but Jakarla had moved fast and thrown off his aim. Athena whirled, but a guard had come from behind, and did his best to disarm her. She fought him all the way, but he restrained her. The red-eyed woman laughed in Adama's face and relieved him of his blaster. "You see?" she sneered. "That _didn't_ work." Adama remained silent, glaring at her, as the remaining guards took hold of him. "You can't escape. I came for you, and you are mine." "You gloat well. Do something else." "I shall!" she agreed. "I intend to give your girl something to report when she returns to GALACTICA without you." "Keep away from him!" Athena shouted. "Ah, well, you see, I have my orders." Jakarla pretended regret. She turned to the Commander. "I want as little trouble from you as I can get. You're safer unconscious, I must say." A malicious grin crossed her face as she gazed into Adama's eyes. "Get used to this." Her eyes held him in their spell. She was in his mind. Adama made an effort to fight her off, but her hands gripped his head and forced him to be still. Pain came into his mind. He gasped and valiantly attempted to resist her mental influence, but she was swamping him with her darkness, a demonic hatred that burned like fire. He couldn't catch his breath as it consumed his consciousness. There was nothing but red eyes and that pain, and she was unrelenting, far too strong... He choked back the scream that wanted to escape, and let his mind shut down to spare himself. Athena gasped in shock as she saw her father pass out. "No!" she called, wanting to reach him. Jakarla turned to face her, smirking. "That was just a taste, girl. He has a great deal else in store for him. You can do nothing." She ordered her guards out with the unconscious Commander, then regarded Athena. "We're leaving. You aren't needed." Athena pulled away violently as the guard released her. "Damn you!" she spat. "Oh, do be silent. We're setting this shuttle adrift. By the time it's found, there will be no rescue for your dear Commander." "By the time...? We must still be in the Fleet..." "You are. But your rescue may be slow. You have to work to earn it." She gestured her guard to come with her and turned to leave. "Shoot her," she ordered over her shoulder. "No!" Athena yelled. The guard spun, aimed and fired with a swift accuracy. Athena gasped in pain and sank to the deck. Jakarla laughed. "I'm so sorry if I deceived you, girl. You'll at least live to tell them." Then she was gone. Curled up in a ball of distress, Athena shivered and tried to focus on remaining conscious. /Gods...get to GALACTICA...get help somehow. First...get to the controls. Can I fly? ...Stupid question. Must try to call them. Hurts...but I'm alive. Frack. Don't fall asleep. Get help....../ Ari, on the bridge, had been hit with a wave of pain intense enough that she'd almost lost consciousness. Tigh held her shoulders in support. "Ari, what is it? I'll call Dr. Salik..." "No," she gulped. "No, it's not me...I felt it, but it wasn't my pain. Goddess..." "What?" "It's...the Commander," she said, very quietly, shaking. Tigh stared, cold chills creeping up his spine. "Colonel!" Omega exclaimed. "We're getting an emergency call from the Commander's shuttle!" "No," muttered Tigh, and spun to the comlink. "Adama? Athena? Are you there?" The transmission cut in, a little fuzzy. Athena, sweating and looking very ill, was seen on-screen. "Colonel. I'm trying...to stay awake. Those...dreams lately...are true. We were...attacked. My father's...gone." "Gone?!" Tigh snapped, not wanting a misinterpretation of that word. Ari's reaction had unnerved him enough. "Yes...she kidnapped him...hurt him first, don't know how...and took him off the ship." "She?" "The woman...with Iblis. Please...I don't know where I am...and I need help. I...I..." Athena gasped. "Sorry..." Unable to hold on, she slid out of view onto the deck. "Athena! Damn. We'll find you, Athena; you'll get help." "I can't believe this!" Starbuck exclaimed. "We get hijacked in our own Fleet?! Who are these people?!" "Have you been having strange dreams lately?" asked Tigh. "You may have seen who did it." "That woman in black, yeah, talking felgercarb about taking over. Acting like a pirate right amidst a convoy - that makes a great impression! I really want her in charge!" He subsided, fuming. "You recovered the shuttle." "Yeah, and found Athena. No sign of the Commander, as she said." Starbuck looked down, his face grim with worry. "Athena...she's in bad shape. Coma. Salik thought she'd make it, but it's not looking good. Ari's staying with her and Apollo." He began to pace. "We need to find the Commander. I want to go back out on patrol and see if I can find any clues." "And go missing yourself? That's a bad idea, Lieutenant." "Colonel, we have to send out patrols. We can't hide - Apollo fell victim to something right aboardship!" "Granted," Tigh said reluctantly. "So if the enemy can reach us on GALACTICA, they can get us anywhere. I'd feel just as safe out in my Viper as I would moping around on the ship!" "I hear you, Lieutenant, but you shouldn't go out alone." "Numbers don't count for much, since the Commander wasn't alone, either." The Colonel sighed. "Thanks, Starbuck. They were in an unarmed shuttle. Vipers might fare better." Jakarla stood by a machine, and considered it with a predatory, reflective grin. "I would prefer you not to use that in this case," Iblis declared. "Why not? You know how it works on the nervous system, inducing and enhancing pain. It doesn't need to cause permanent damage; it only feels that way." "I have also seen it kill subjects from shock. That is not what I need here. I wish to keep Adama alive for my own purposes. He is unhelpfully stubborn and would fight you. I would prefer not to trust that you would know where to stop while using _that_." "Hmm...if you say so." Jakarla tapped her fingers impatiently. "Ah, but I like the taste of his mind..." "And you shall have more of it," Iblis agreed, "but you shall obey my plans. You have enough telepathic strength to overcome his resistance without having to use machines." "Ah, but I _like_ weapons," she smirked. "You want him punished. This could break down his resistance and make him more susceptible to your plans." "Disobedient," noted Iblis. "Perhaps," Jakarla mused. "Although it might work." A medic, standing by with a look of professional detachment, quietly intruded. "If I may..." Jakarla nodded. "You may speak." "The Commander _is_ stubborn, if he's survived in a refugee fleet for this long. He's a Colonial Warrior. We...they...were trained to expect this sort of torture, and to resist it. However, I'm not certain that his body would hold out under the stress. Perhaps you shouldn't risk it." She considered the advice, but only for a moment. "I think I shall." Iblis gave her a look. "If I lose him because of you,-you-may lose more than you expect. Beware." He reflected on dark thoughts for a moment, then continued. "I need you for another task before you begin here." He left the room. The medic shivered, relieved to be out of the Count's presence. "You push everything just a little too far, My Lady. You really need to stop doing that." "I'm not about to stop my entire way of life, Sebastian." Jakarla followed Iblis out. Boxey, Muffit inevitably at his side, paced down an unused corridor of the battlestar; he'd wanted to be mostly alone, naturally disregarding any possibility of danger. Muffit whined. Boxey patted his head. "Don't worry, Muffey," he muttered, by way of attempting to reassure himself. "Father will be all right. Dr. Salik knows what he's doing." He rubbed his eyes, brushing away tears, wishing anyone knew where Grandfather was. Muffit whined, then barked. Tugging at Boxey's sleeve, he dragged the boy towards the inhabited sections of the ship. "What is it, you bad daggit?" His words trailed into a gasp. A great, purple, horned demon advanced on him. Boxey turned on his heels and ran, straight into a dark-haired woman. She caught him easily, laughing with amusement. "Frightened of my pet? You should heed your little beastie, child." Boxey whimpered. He was young, but he knew this female was no friend. She grinned at him. "How wise you are. But too late to do you any good." Muffit growled and yelped hysterically. The woman barely spared him a glance. She addressed the gruesomely- chuckling demon. "Sym - dispose of that one if you wish." As the droid animal sprang at the creature, it was casually brushed aside as a human would flick away a fly. It crashed into the bulkhead, then onto the deck, effectively decommissioned. Boxey began to howl and kick in terror. The female groaned in disgust as she prepared to teleport out again. "Hades, child, I'm not here to _eat_ you! ...Although you might taste rather good, actually. Oh, settle down!" She glanced at her demonic assistant. "Kindly deliver this little animal to Count Iblis. _I_ want nothing of him; I have more interesting prey to pursue." The demon scooped up the child, received a curt, "Thank you." The three vanished. Adama regained some state of wakefulness, wondering where he was. Something was very wrong indeed, for he seemed to be restrained, chained in a chair. He didn't particularly want to know the purpose of the headset he was now wearing. "Where is this? ...Looks like a _dungeon_. I needed this in my life?" "It's a ship, despite the decor," spoke a quiet voice. Adama focused on a black-garbed, mustached man, dark gray hair, steel-gray eyes, a morose air that was almost tangible. He could swear the man's bearing was that of a Colonial Warrior, but one who'd seen far too much and had given up fighting it or caring much at all. "Someone has a very sick mind," Adama noted with disgust. "I can guess who it is, but who are you?" "Jakarla's medic, in case her guests don't take well to her...hospitality." "Ah. Tell me, do you enjoy your work?" The medic made no reply but a sarcastic laugh. "Were you a Warrior? I can see it in you." "Really? I don't see much _human_ left in myself at all these days. No, not a Warrior. Colonial medic, Dr. Sebastian. I'm...not quite what I was before." "True, if you oversee torture. There's no honor in that, especially not for a doctor." "Commander, you wouldn't understand. You might, later. Hope that you don't. I do as requested, because when one's superior is a vampire, and _her_ commander is a _demon_, it's the safest thing." He smiled tiredly, showing long teeth, allowing a red glint to come into his eyes. "Oh," realized Adama, startled. "Perceptive. Jakarla's dragged me through all Hades, but long ago, she let me live when she could've killed me, as Iblis wished her to do. I'm her...child. Loyalty to that keeps me going, as does having lost my soul a long time ago." "That isn't possible." Adama wanted to believe that with all his heart, and indeed his soul, but perhaps Baltar had proved it was possible to do so. He had no idea what to make of a regretful vampire, though. "Oh, you'd be surprised," Sebastian returned, casting him a look of controlled anguish. "I have no other choice. Duty keeps me doing what I must. All I can do is help you survive." Adama gave him a long, level glare. "You do what you wish. I will resist." Sebastian sighed. "You're welcome to try." "We intend him to survive, Doctor," came Jakarla's voice from the hatchway. "Just...changed somewhat, for my father's enjoyment." She approached the Commander and bared her teeth enthusiastically. "So what is this?" Adama asked, wincing but meeting her stare. "You're only following orders?" Jakarla laughed. "No, I'm going to enjoy feeding on your mind. It entertains me. My guests never agree, of course, but we can't be perfect..." She chuckled, horribly. Adama glared. "You've got quite an insolent little mind," she noted. "Would it break down your resistance somewhat to know that we killed your daughter?" Adama gasped. "Athena..." He stopped himself and closed his eyes. "Oh, that must've been a surprise. So sorry." Jakarla sneered a little. She watched Adama, who refused to react further. "Ah, the good Warrior, tell the enemy nothing. All I want to learn from you, the only secrets I care about, are what will help me destroy you. Interrogation doesn't matter here, just the pain." Her voice was full of relish. "Know that you'll lose everything including yourself. Fight if you wish. The outcome is not in doubt." His eyes opened, full of cold rage. "I've lost almost everything except myself, it seems. Take me on and see if you can beat me. I've survived more than you know." "But will you survive me...?" She grinned. "Ah, we have plans for you. First I'll go with the predictable and introduce you to one of my favorite weapons. What you are connected to scans a being's brainwaves, attunes itself to the nervous system, and 'learns' how best to cause the most pain, without causing any lasting damage...unless, of course, someone is rude enough to die during the process." /Lords help me. I was trained to resist this sort of thing./ Adama took a deep breath and tried to distance his mind, refusing to dignify her with a response. /It's just pain. It can be survived./ "A good military reaction. That was predicted." She smirked. "Oh, and nothing divine is here. There's just me...and I've been warned that I'm not all that reliable in knowing the pain thresholds of humans. Of course, if I kill you, my father will kill _me_, so don't worry too much." Jakarla activated the machine. Adama reached for every bit of stoicism that he could find, and clenched his teeth, trying to focus past the pain, suspecting that it would be easier if only it were an outside source. He wasn't certain he could resist his own nervous system's conviction that it was on fire. Groaning from the strain, he could only pray for something to distract him, something else he could hold onto...and when the idea came to him, he grabbed onto it and sent it forth as clearly as he could. //Oh, God...Ari, please help.// "Oh...no." Ari dizzily put a hand to her head. //Adama, I hear you. If you can reach me, I'll shield you.// Zellie spun around to stare at her. "What was that?!" "It's...it was Adama. He got through somehow, but...he's not there now." She fell back into a chair and sighed. "He was dealing with too much pain, and calling for help." "That could be used as a weapon against you." The captain shook her head and sighed. /Leave it to me to find a drawback to the concept of Chai./ "If you can't distance yourself enough from the link, then whatever's happening to him could happen to _you_." "Yes, I know." Ari took a deep breath, trying to focus herself. "I can maintain distance _from_ the pain, but I'll still know that he _is_ in pain.That hurts in its own way." "Yes," Zellie sighed, gently gripped Ari's shoulders. "I'm certain that that's part of their disgusting _point_." "Except...I don't think they were aware of me. Now they probably are. I don't know if this endangers him - and me - more now, or less." /Frack, this is bad/, thought Zellie, haunted with foreboding. /Starbuck is overdue...if they also have _him_, I have to find him _now_, and then we have to find the Commander. Fast./ Jakarla snarled. "You should not be able to telepath during this!" Adama found the strength to growl back at her. "Heh. That's spirit." She bent over him and showed her teeth. "Very interesting. Somehow, you've acquired an Ar'kinlan partner. When in Hades did _that_ happen?" Jakarla turned to look back at Iblis, standing in the background and glowering. "Did you know about _this_ complication?" Iblis growled. "This is most annoying." "We'll need to work faster, then..." /Hmmm/, mused Baltar, /I like that machine. I wonder if I could convince them to let me use it. Ah, but no, and they won't let me have Adama aboard my ship, either...with my luck, they'd use it on _me_./ Lucifer entered and bowed. "Baltar, we have a guest." "A guest?" "We have been told that we are 'not allowed' to harm him, at least not yet..." Tigh took a deep breath and stared out at the stars, not really seeing anything. He kept thinking of Adama, what he might do. Throughout their careers as Warriors, he and Adama owed each other their lives many times over, always pulling the other out of some seemingly hopeless situation. Now he didn't even know where to start looking for his old friend; there was nothing to go on, but Ari's reaction had frightened him. He had to focus on commanding in Adama's stead and not give such thoughts of helplessness too much consideration. "Colonel?" Tigh turned to face the tall, red-haired alien woman. The pilot looked surprisingly subdued. "Captain Zellandra?" Her non-Colonial-issued rank seemed appropriate simply because of her talent; he had the feeling Adama would allow her to retain it if she stayed, so he followed suit. "Have you heard from Starbuck?" "He's overdue, Captain. It does happen..." "Twice in so short a time? History repeats itself." They sighed in unison. "Colonel, I'm one of the best pilots among my people. If we don't hear from Starbuck, I intend to put myself on patrol and go out to hunt." "We must go on, even under attack," Tigh agreed. "I can't shelter the Warriors. I feel for what Adama goes through as Commander, let me tell you... But Captain, I don't find you expendable. I don't want you throwing yourself away." "I'm a Warrior by nature, Colonel. I've fought all my life; I was literally born for it. Expendability doesn't enter into it, for me. You need the help that I can offer. Believe me, I don't mean to be _expended_ at all easily." "Captain, I don't want you lost almost as soon as you've joined us." Zellie grinned. "Believe it or not, I've seen worse." "Perhaps you have, but it's ridiculous to send out a rescue party, only to lose the rescue party and have to send someone out to rescue _them_, and on and on!" "Do you have a Viper that can take a passenger?" "It would be a squeeze to arrange that, but room can be made in one." "I'll take Fenris of the Hellraisers, then. He's a natural tracker; his intuition goes beyond physical senses." She studied Tigh. "Take it easy yourself, Colonel. It was Starbuck's decision to go out; I don't blame you." "I was in command. If he's lost, it's my responsibility." "Don't take guilt too far. Won't help how you're feeling already. We're all in this together." Starbuck was still overdue, and soon to be presumed lost. Zellie's teeth clenched in a grim smile as she flew a Viper like it was second nature, watching space more than she watched the controls. She loved flying and Vipers were fun to use, though primitive in comparison to her usual technology. Fenris sat behind her, a bit cramped, but not complaining. "You're thinking of Starbuck?" he observedquietly. "It's that obvious?" Zellie shrugged. "Of course it is. Starbuck is...much on my mind. Ah, the Goddess is cruel to bring Chai to Ari and myself, only to take it away like this, with no warning. _If_ it's Chai in my case, and not just remarkably carbonated hormones. I'm not certain I can tell the difference." She snorted. "Of course, it's not the Goddess doing this; it's Iblis. And life is never fracking _predictable_, especially not when we live this lifestyle." "Definitely not," Fenris agreed. "He's not dead, though. We're linked enough that I can sense that telepathically, but I don't know _where_ he is. Frack it...I want Starbuck, and I want Commander Adama back here _now_." "Not good people to lose." "So where are they?" But there were only the stars out here, and they couldn't speak even to an Ar'kinlan, couldn't tell of what might have passed this way. Yes - only the stars, herself and Fenris...and something else, something that rang alarms in her mind. "Zellie..." came Fenris' voice, so quietly unsettled that it sent chills through her. "There's something _bad_ out here with us." Zellie came alert in an instant, eyes flashing to the scanner console. She said something very dirty then, ignoring Fenris' distracted chuckle. They moved in closer to the disturbance registering at scanner's edge...and saw with their eyes what it was. Shuddering at the sight, Zellie choked out a fervent prayer, then peeled off with the desperate intent of getting back to base. Fenris snarled behind her; his fur lifted and he tried hard to smooth it flat, to stop baring his teeth so that he could maintain a civilized demeanor. Multicolored flames flashed and writhed against the blackness of space, with no oxygen to feed them. It was an unholy sight, and a terrible thing to have to deal with now... "Hellfire!" she gasped, wishing she had merely hallucinated it. But the dreams... "Tigh!" she yelled over the com. "Iblis is really after our souls - we have a Hellfire storm coming this way! Get the Fleet out of here! I'm on my way back!" On the bridge, Tigh stared at Omega in disbelief. "Hellfire...?" "Pretty frackin' much what it sounds like, but it's telepathically controlled by...those such as Iblis. It induces nightmares, can be used as a telepathic weapon, burns the soul like fire burns the body, is _not_ something you want to be dealing with, and _you have to get out_!" Zellie blinked and stopped herself from babbling. "Is that clear?" Tigh cleared his throat and waited a moment to get his voice out in a tone, and an octave, that suited command. He stopped then, listening. "What?" he wondered. "Captain, is someone in my mind?" "Apart from yourself?" she cracked. "What did you hear?" "I...thought I heard the Commander. Then I know I heard someone laughing at us. I've gone paranoid!" "No, you probably heard it. Hellfire can do that. Ignore it and go on. Fast!" Iblis and Jakarla had apparently gone to consult each other on their plans. Adama simply tried to focus on breathing deeply to relax and center himself. He didn't know how long he could resist another session with Jakarla's machine, but was determined not to give her whatever perverted satisfaction she was seeking. He began to hear voices raised in chanting, and a sense of dark power grew in the air; his eyes went wide as chills ran down his spine. This was something arcane and..."demonic" was the only appropriate term. He had never encountered the use of black magick for real, although it was certainly spoken of in legend. /God help us.../ Sebastian shuddered and put a hand to his head. "Oh, that feels...bad." "Even to you?" Adama asked in surprise. "I don't like my dreams," Sebastian reflected. "I should be used to it, though. Lords know I'm close enough to being a demon myself these days." "_What_ are they doing, Doctor?" Adama forced himself to retain a tone of command. Damn his voice for wanting to shake... "Calling up...something you don't want to know about, something they'll be sending against the Fleet." Adama started to ask, but his brain chose that moment to reel with intense vertigo, as the darkness intensified. For a dizzy moment, he could see out into space with his mind, and something terrifying was building there, something that looked like an unnatural form of fire. "No, I _cannot_ be seeing that." "It is there." As his mind continued to spin, Adama heard a telepathic voice calling //Beware! Beware Count Iblis!// /Elspeth...I heard her in a dream before; now I hear her again! Is she real?/ "Couldn't you have have been specific _before_ now?" he replied grimly. "I think it's too late for _that_ warning." "Oh, frack...tell me you're joking, Rory," sighed David Auriga, shaking his head in disbelief. "Tell me that's not Hellfire I see." "Unfortunately, it _is_," the ship replied in an unsettled tone. "That's _really_ not fair." "We could teleport out...?" suggested a shipmate, a young woman with upswept eyebrows, pointed ears usually covered by her shaggy black hair, and a dark blue outfit accented by a long white scarf. "No, T'Pong," Karlani vowed. "We stay near Galactica to help them out, even if this causes us to regret it." "That seems not to be logical," T'Pong reflected. "Ping-Pong, when has your life _ever_ been logical?" Karlani asked with a grin. "Well, never in all the time since I joined _you_, actually," she admitted. "So you can't really miss what you've never had," the Commander pointed out wryly. T'Pong shrugged eloquently with her eyebrows in reply. "My systems are not looking forward to this, Commander..." "Apologies, Rory. We can't help it this time." Apollo moaned quietly, blinked his eyes open. He could barely focus, his head ached, he felt weak and too hot. He sensed from the lighting that he was in Life Center. Worse, in a pod on life support. He hated that... "Cassie?" he whispered. Odd, was that his voice? Cassiopea had heard him, though. She came to his side, smiled. There was another blonde woman with her, whom he also recognized, but his mind was far too befuddled to find a name. "Strange," he attempted. "Crazy dreams. I saw Zac, Serina...but they didn't stay." He tried to get his mind to work. "What happened to me?" "You caught a bug." "No quarantine? Not contagious?" "Evidently not. At least not the strain you encountered." "What are my chances?" Cassie sighed. One could not tell a patient that. "Truth or felgercarb?" she enquired sadly. "Truth...please." "It's a totally new bacterium. But Dr. Salik believes he can soon find a cure." /Well...stretched truth. But better than what I could otherwise say.../ "When?" "He isn't sure yet. But you'll be the first to find out when he is." "Thanks..." came the sardonic whisper as Apollo faded away again. Ari gazed down at him sadly. "Was that a good sign or not?" "Well, it's a good sign that he can wake up enough to talk." A thought made her wince and she returned to the monitors, gesturing Ari over with her. "I don't want to talk about this in front of him. He's hanging on the best he can. Athena's...worse than that." Ari nodded. Then she glanced away as if listening to something. "What?" she muttered. Tigh's voice came over the comlink. "Aristephone?" "She's here," replied Cassiopea. Ari snapped out of the reverie and spoke. "Colonel, something is very wrong in this part of space." "I know. I wanted you to hear that Zellie called in, reported a Hellfire storm." Ari went pale and muttered indistinctly, then burst out, "She's _out in that_?" "Flying away from it." "It looks as if I should give up the habit of asking myself, 'What else can go wrong?', because the Universe will always reply in this manner, won't it?" Cassie asked idly. Ari laughed sadly. "Yes, I'm afraid that's a very bad question to ask..." Iblis, gloating happily from afar, tapped his fingers on the table beside him, merrily humming a murderous little tune he'd picked up on Earth, about painting everything black. "Soon, Adama...you shall join your ancestors in oblivion, you and your precious Fleet." His mocking laughter echoed horribly through the chamber, sending several of his lesser servants skittering away in terror. Jakarla stood before Adama, and gave him that unpleasant grin. "We've set everything else up, so it's time to go to the next step here. You shall have my full attention. I look forward to this, but I don't think you will." Adama's control had steadily frayed under the strain of fighting Jakarla's machine, and he hoped he had enough left to face whatever else she was going to do. She leaned over him with a look of anticipation and asked casually, "Having fun?" "No," he gritted. "Too bad. I am. You know, physical pain isn't particularly effective except to exhaust you, as I intended. This is something else, and it will separate you from that Ar'kinlan. We're going to smash down your barriers, go right into your mind, use it as a playground and a battlefield, and telepathically tear you apart. Try to resist _that_." Their eyes met, the Commander challenged her, and she brought the force of her demonic power into her stare. "You can't resist this. I'll have you soon." He was sweating with the strain. Somehow, he had to resist this, too. "Your telepathic barriers don't help against me. You're not that big a challenge." Adama put all his strength into fighting the pressure of her mind. He knew he was losing. He was gasping for breath, and her eyes were glowing red, piercing into his soul. Jakarla blasted his concentration by increasing the intensity of the machine at that moment, sending him pain more intense than he'd known existed, and would not let him go. She broke down his mental shielding and stormed into his psyche, overwhelming him so entirely that he lost control and screamed. She let him pass out cold, but he could somehow still hear her laughter, echoing in his subconscious... Starbuck jumped up from the table where he was an enforced "guest" and kicked his chair, then winced as he bruised his foot. "Do stop that, Lieutenant!" requested Lucifer in electronic surprise. "You'll damage yourself and the game." "I can't stand this!" Starbuck shouted back. "You have me playing cards with you as if nothing's really wrong, but you're letting me see all that's happening to everyone, just letting me see them get destroyed in front of me!" "You'd...rather not know what happens to your people, then?" "Apollo's sick as Hades, Athena's dying, Boxey's just a kid and gets kidnapped by a demon, and Commander Adama's being tortured by a sadistic animal. No, I don't like watching it! And if you want me to concentrate on your game," he added sarcastically, "this is a great way to distract me from winning against you. Was that the point?" "This has been necessary for Iblis' revenge," Lucifer stated impartially. "They wish for you to see." He laid down a hand of cards. "A half-Pyramid." "Iblis..." Starbuck snarled, then slapped his own cards down. "Full Pyramid, by the way!" Lucifer sighed electronically. "I simply do not know how you do it. The odds are against you, yet you constantly win. So much for your claiming distraction would cause you to lose." "I was born lucky. 'Starbuck-luck.' Now, I don't understand the telepathic part, but why, for Sagan's sake, is the Commander being put through that? What's the purpose?" "I do not fully understand this, I must confess. Iblis holds Adama as the best hostage he could have while dealing with the Fleet. He intends to hold his...soul as ransom. Whatever that means." He checked his memory. "I believe he intends to break the Commander and use whatever remains to his own advantage. That is territory I do not entirely understand, either. Soul possession, another mind in the body...these terms are too human for me to comprehend adequately; you must teach me such things." Starbuck groaned. "Oh, frack this fracking mess to Hades!" He dropped his head into his folded arms on the table and tried not to cry. Taking a deep breath, he looked up again. "Why'd Apollo get sick as he did?" "A bizarrely-engineered bioweapon was introduced into his bloodstream. Clever trick, sneaking someone aboard your ship to administer it to him." "Diabolical," agreed the infuriated Starbuck. "And here I am, forced to watch and talk with you as if I should be enjoying myself! I can't help a damn thing!" He stared around himself and shouted into the silence, hoping the Count would hear and take note, "Damn you, Iblis! May you rot in the deepest pits of Hades!" "You are our _guest_, Lieutenant. Insulting one's hosts is neither polite nor wise." Starbuck moaned and dropped his head into his hands, giving up the discussion. Boomer led a Warrior/Hellraiser team to an area of the Fleet that had grown dangerous. RISING STAR had become rife with warlike rumors and violence. Riots threatened as the people spoke against their leadership. "Warrior," yelled one man at the Lieutenant, "why have you come here? You're not welcome!" "We need to talk peace," began Boomer tensely. "The Fleet is in enough trouble already." "Trouble you're responsible for. We have had it. The revolution has begun, and Adama's Warriors are now the ones in trouble!" "If you riot, you'll hurt or kill your own followers. Keep that in mind - _please_?" "It will take more pain to break free, true. So be it. We want what the military dictatorship won't give: freedom, peace, FOOD! Jakarla is coming to overthrow the old order and help us create a new one!" "Jakarla?" Boomer shivered and glanced at his backup team, noting the shadows that crossed their faces. "We've all had that dream. She lies." The representative for the crowd strode forward, barely noticing the guns that were drawn in warning. "Adama lies! _He_ is responsible for this _mess_..." "The Commander is not in control at all. He was kidnapped off his shuttle and we don't know where he is! This mess is becoming worse in his absence! Our crew is being destroyed! Jakarla is spreading anarchy and destruction, that's all!" The representative grinned back at his followers. "You hear this member of the Warrior elite? The tyrant is overthrown. But he and the military stand in our way even yet. Lieutenant, anarchy looks good compared to our present government. Get out of here with your propaganda and lies, or we shall use _you_ as food!" "Oh, Lords," Boomer heard Jolly gasp. "Get out," he muttered in return. "We aren't doing any good here." Even if they were Warriors, he didn't think Adama would fault them for retreating from a situation in which cannibalism was seriously put forth as a solution. The Hellraiser T'Pong stared worriedly. "Logic _doesn't_ always help, after all, does it?" she remarked to one of her shipmates, a young black woman named Anastasia. "Logic is the _last_ thing on their minds!" Greenbean agreed, overhearing, with a glance at the young black haired woman. He wondered briefly what she was; she almost passed for human, but seemed somehow different. T'Pong shrugged in return, observing that chaos had trumped the crutch of logic yet again. Typical. "Back off...slowly..." suggested Boomer. They did, toward the hatch, aware of the rising hatred in the air. Then the standoff exploded as the representative shouted "KILL THEM!" Over a dozen civilians charged to the attack and the team was hard-pressed to fight them off. Even as T'Pong downed two of them with a unique nerve-pinch, Boomer was shoved off his feet; he fell onto the deck and couldn't escape being kicked. Helping to fight off the attack, the lanky blond ensign, Greenbean, knelt at Boomer's side. Grabbing ahold of him, Greenbean struggled to pull him over his shoulders. "Gods," he panted. "The guy's heavy! I hope I never have to carry _you_ in an emergency, Jolly!" The chunky flight sergeant grunted. "Very funny." He was thankful, at least, to be spared any cracks about how people intent on cannibalism would undoubtedly choose a man of his size first. "How is he?" "Not too good from the look of him. I think Life Center's got itself another patient!" They made a harried escape from the scene, T'Pong being sensible enough to call AURORA for teleport out. Zellie fiercely coaxed speed from the already-overworked Viper engines, but the Hellfire storm was making more headway than she could. "If only I were flying my Ar'kinlan starcraft... Fenris, sorry I dragged you along." "Heh, no apologies. It has been a more exciting day than I anticipated." Zellie laughed as she caught a glimpse of his lupine grin. "Hellfire is not a thing I like in my vicinity, however. It afflicts me with synesthesia." "Smelling colors, hearing tastes? Yeah, I know." She activated her comlink. "Colonel Tigh!" she called. "I'll never make it back in time! Bring up your shields or you'll all be fried!" "What about you and Fenris?" "Don't worry about us. We're tough; we've survived it all. Have you heard from Starbuck?" "No," reported Tigh. "We'll keep trying. Good luck, Zellandra...Fenris. Shields are up." The pilot signed off. Tigh had the strangest feeling he'd see the two again. But that was impossible...wasn't it? Who could survive a Hellfire storm in the slim protection of a Viper cockpit? /Adama was in another world, another reality, entirely. He'd felt as if his mind was being shredded to pieces, but then he'd been flung into a crazed psi-scape of violent explosions, impossible colors, falling through a void of utter blackness. He closed his eyes and shuddered, trying not to panic despite the fear, attempting to protect his mind from such synesthesiac impossibilities as sounds he could smell, colors he could hear... There was another great explosion. He felt himself land on a hard surface. Not quite daring to trust his abused senses, he slowly, cautiously, opened his eyes and looked about himself. /Impossible!/ the logical side of his mind remarked. /This is Caprica!/ He stood on a grassy knoll, a clear blue sky overhead. Leaning against the silvery, smooth bark of a tree, he sneezed as its lacy fronds hung down to brush his face and tickle his nose. For the first time in yahrens, he felt young, truly vibrant. He hadn't been as young as he felt now in what sometimes, pessimistically, felt like eons. He wondered why this should be. Apparently his astral self still chose to think of itself as young, which would be of use to it in the oncoming firestorm of battle. His reflections on astral projection ceased as a woman approached him...a very familiar woman. Grinning happily, blue eyes glowing, and auburn hair mildly flapping in the light breeze, she walked up to him. "Ila?" he gasped disbelievingly. "Adama, my love," she laughed. They embraced. But, unceremoniously, they were interrupted by the sound of laser fire and explosions. The scene changed almost as suddenly to the dark of night...and Adama knew just what night it was. He'd been through it before, forced to watch over GALACTICA monitors; the visions of his planet's destruction still haunted him in nightmares. "No," he denied, voice choked. "Not again..." But the Holocaust manifested itself once more. Blazing laser cannons and resulting explosions ravaged the landscapes.When it ended, he experienced a thing nearly as terrible as the Great Destruction. He found Ila - or what was left of her after being blasted by a Raider on a strafing run. That was still not the worst of it. He was chilled to the soul as her eyes opened, looking straight up at him, expression anything but affectionate. She growled like a an animal and rose from the ground to face him. "Adama!" she snarled. "My betrayer! Where were you when I needed you?! My children die because of you! I loved you, and you repaid me with betrayal. So now, murderer, _you_ shall die!" Adama, shocked incoherent, forced himself to speak. "No! You're wrong! It wasn't my fault!" "You're the Commander - and incompetent! You couldn't even save your planet, much less me!" Her undead corpse stalked towards Adama, eyes gleaming demonically, arms outstretched, with intent not loving but murderous. "Oh, please, no..." he groaned. "Why can't you understand me?!" A dreadful chuckling stole over the scene and replaced it. The darkness returned. Anguished, the Commander wondered, /Could she be right?!/ "LET ME GO! LET ME GO!" howled a miniature banshee. It was Boxey, struggling vainly for freedom from the demon. At least that maniacal woman had not deigned to remain with his 'escort,' but the demon was bad enough. A woman very like Serina approached and entreated, "Please - let him go," arms outstretched. The demon, confused without the guidance of its sinister mistress, released the boy. Boxey ran to the new arrival, crying, "Mother?!" "Hush, my dear. I am with you," came the gentle voice, so like Serina's, even down to the lovely accent... Starbuck stood, hands pinned behind him, glaring at Baltar. "You lousy, murderous..._slimeburger_," he snarled, remembering one of Zellie's terms. "If my hands were free, I'd strangle you!" Baltar clicked his tongue at him pettishly. "Truly, Lt. Starbuck, such language ill-befits you. After all, I am your humble host." A strange sigh issued forth from Lucifer. "I did warn you, Lieutenant..." "Sadly for you, this was your last chance to so abuse me. Centurion - remove him." "By your command." Starbuck was rudely semi-dragged away for a rendezvous with a fate he'd rather not consider. To his surprise, he heard Lucifer remark, "What a shame; I've always enjoyed his company." Baltar's laughter followed. Zellie growled irritably at the misbehaving console. "Frack! There's just no way in blazing Hades we could be goin' the way this thing says we are!" "Don't be certain," advised Fenris. "If your controls are a mess, focus on intuition." "Which is the only thing that _does_ work, but I think I'm starting to hallucinate." "May the Goddess guide us through the wilderness of space..." the Rendelmarian muttered prayerfully. "Must...try..." Zellie focused desperately. Flashing lights whirled around the canopy as the edge of the storm overtook them. The comparatively fragile Viper began to buck in the fierce space winds, like a leaf in a hurricane. "Something large comin' by, as I thought...oh, that's nice! It's a Cylon basestar!" "Ah, then the hallucination was real." "Unfortunately, Fenris, it _does_ look real. Let's hope their scanners are as fouled up as ours are. Let them be _worse_ off. Perhaps we can sneak through undetected. After all, any port in a storm - especially a Hellfire storm!" She winced at a particularly strong gust, and Fenris' quiet whimper in response to it, but grinned ferally as her mercenary instinct reminded her that this was the type of operation she enjoyed most. "Here goes nothing!" she exclaimed, and dove towards the wavering blob before her. Rigel gasped in surprise at what her scanner proclaimed. "Colonel Tigh! We have a basestar after us!" "Great. Just great. Of all our problems, did we really need _this_, too?!" demanded Tigh. "Red Alert." Rigel reached for the board, recoiling in shock as sparks shot out. "Colonel, I can't touch it! There must be an electrical short!" "If we don't warn the Fleet, they'll be unprepared for attack." Rigel steeled herself, knowing the truth of his words. With a great effort, she hit the requisite control. Flames shot from the board and Rigel screamed, even as the lights shaded to red. Omega rushed to her side. "Rigel! Are you all right?" "My hands..." she groaned, and lost consciousness. Omega gently lifted her up, her slim body light in his arms. Looking at Tigh, he said, "If you can spare me, Colonel, I'll take her to Life Center myself." "All right," Tigh conceded. "Please return quickly, though." Nodding assent, Omega carried Rigel from the bridge. Pacing intensely down the corridors, he burst into Life Center, calling for Cassiopea. Laying Rigel down and brushing a stray lock of her long hair from her face, he blinked and started, realizing tears were in his eyes. "Is she all right?" he enquired anxiously, as Cassiopea looked her over. "This is very strange..." Cassiopea mused. "What happened?" "Her console attacked her," the somber command officer answered drily. "It looked like fire, but didn't behave correctly." "Ari?" Cassie called, and the Ar'kinlan joined them. When Omega repeated the incident, Cassie asked, "Could that have been Hellfire? Can it have physical effects?" "It's possible, yes, depending upon how it's being wielded." Rigel groaned again, looked up blurrily. "Omega? What happened?" "Your console seems to have been used as a weapon against you. You're in Life Center. How do you feel?" "Terrible. And I can't feel my hands." "Don't worry - you still have them," assured Cassie. "But we've needed to use a neural blocking agent for pain control." "Will they - I - be all right?" "You'll certainly live." Rigel sighed, wanting to know what wasn't being said in front of her. "I don't want to be crippled." She choked back her tears; to her surprise, Omega embraced her gently. "It's okay, my dear. I'm here for you, remember that." Cassie smiled. The dutiful, formal third-in-command was lightening up! "Rigel," she continued, "we don't yet know the extent of the damage. We probably won't for several days. With regeneration treatments, you should be functional upon recovery." Omega released Rigel, first giving her a light kiss. "I must return to the bridge. The Colonel's getting terribly short-handed up there with all these unusual...accidents. Will you be all right?" "Sure. I think I will be!" Rigel smiled mournfully at him. "Thank you," she added, not elaborating, but Omega understood. He nodded and quickly left. Cassie realized how distracted he must have been - he'd completely forgotten to ask how anyone else was doing. /Adama was not doing well. This was so strange... He'd never had an experience like it before. His spirit was stranded and he knew a body couldn't live long without its soul. Maybe he deserved it, if what Ila had said was true. "Father," spoke a voice from behind him. "I'm back." Adama turned, saw before him his younger son, Zac - the first casualty of the Holocaust. Part of him warned against this...it couldn't be true. But neither could he resist it, and he went to embrace the young Warrior anyway. "It's been a long time, Zac. I've missed you." Zac glared at him, pulling away. "Yeah...but then, it was your fault, wasn't it?" "What??" "You let Apollo take me out on that mission. You didn't let him return for me." Adama stared at him helplessly, feeling as if he was being confused to death. This was unreasonable condemnation, and it denied him the chance to speak. /What _is_ this felgercarb?/ he demanded to himself. "Zac, no, it didn't happen that way. I wasn't available to send you out, and you died before Apollo _could_ return for you...you should know that!" Of course, how the dead would know anything, he wasn't certain... The young lieutenant apparently didn't know or remember, however. He accused, enraged and snarling, "I could have lived! I could have lived, but you wouldn't let me!" "NO!" Adama cried. "For this, I'm not guilty - I can't be!" Reality reeled; he couldn't get a grip on it. His rationality was becoming increasingly bent, if not completely twisted into knots.Prayer wasn't helping, but he could _not_ allow the Evil One to win. "I curse you!" he shouted. "How much more of this must I endure?! Get out of my mind! You shall not be master of my soul!" For response, he believed he heard maniacal laughter. Reality stretched like a living thing upon the Rack, then gave way, sucking him into the vortex of darkness once more.../ "Omega, we need you. Are you sure you're all right?" Tigh asked of his unusually distracted aide. "Yes, sir," he replied, trying to concentrate on his work. "Good man." The Hellfire storm erupted around GALACTICA, then, and began to spread through the Fleet, whirling, spinning, and generally wreaking havoc. "Hold on tight!" shouted Tigh. "This is gonna be one wild ride!" Shannon sat in meditation in the Celestial Chamber aboard the battlestar. Gathering her energy, she began to transmit a message in the direction of her planet and any stray traveller willing to listen. //Lord President...Doctor...Jolene...all of you who hail from Gallifrey - hear me! We have a major Situation. This renegade calls for your assistance. Even this must break Gallifrey out of its non-interference mold. And I do mean 'mold,' if you'll forgive me! The Evil One who hails from Ar'kinla - Iblis - is on the loose. Even now, he engages in a revenge-trip against the Colonial battlestar GALACTICA and her Fleet. This is NOT merely Ar'kinla's concern. Overcome your prejudices and join with them to banish the Count!// Hearing a faint, startled response from the Lord President, she withdrew, grumbling, "Why do the renegades always have to do their work for them?!" /Adama sat on what may have been ground, though the environment was too unreal to be able to tell. He closed his eyes against the illogic of the psi-landscape and tried to block it out. Strive though he did, it was not succeeding; he couldn't close his _mind_ to it. /Elspeth,/ he thought. /I dreamed of her, heard her when the Hellfire came. Please, be alive now and help me./ She had been an adept telepath, an instructor at the Institute on Caprica. If anyone could help with this, she could, but she had been long-missing on a mission, along with... A familiar female voice on the wind called his name. "...along with Alexis? No. If she'd survived, she'd have come back." He put his head in his hands. "You're not here. _I'm_ not here," he muttered, then laughed in a way that he knew sounded unhinged. "So where am I? Where are _you_?" Someone laughed and spoke again - in his mind. She emerged from behind a tree that hadn't been there the previous moment, which made about as much sense as anything else did, and stood by Adama. He hadn't seen her for so many yahrens... "Stand up, my brother, and face me." Adama met her gaze. It was Alexis, but not the one he'd seen in his dream with Elspeth; she was younger, the age when she'd disappeared. He met her gaze and felt that he was trying to stare himself down. They shared an intense brown-eyed stare that somehow had convinced people they were seeing fierce ice-blue. They had been amused by about others' confusion over that detail. Tall and dark-haired, she had an angular aspect similar to Athena, although she'd never shared his daughter's shy stiffness. Alexis had been quirky, even eccentric, a Warrior who hadn't quite fit in the regular military, perhaps a little too like Starbuck for her own good. "You can't be here," Adama observed. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. You _shouldn't_ be here, in this mess." "Is Elspeth..." "Elspeth's not here to bail you out," she replied coldly. "She could help...I saw you both in a dream, trying to reach me, telling me to beware! You can't be here now, but you are! You survived, and I need..." "Oh, _now_ you regret that you stopped training with her. Perfect hindsight." She glared at him, and seemed to sneer. "Get up and fight by yourself. You wouldn't want _Baltar_ to see you scared." "How can I fight what won't stay real? I don't know where I am..." "Frack, I thought you had more imagination than that. You've been regular military far toolong. Being aboard an explorer ship gives you a wider mind. Too bad you didn't join me, as I asked. Now I'm not here. Blame yourself." "How am I to blame for that?" "First, the crazy female was cheated out of being aboard a battlestar..." "No. No, you never wanted that. You wanted the ANTARES mission. Don't claim that being female had to do with it - you got command of a ship!" "You didn't take up the offer to join that mission and you weren't there to help." "Frack it, Alex," Adama growled, "ANTARES flew through a black hole! No...we never identified what it truly was...but how could one person have rescued you? By being a better navigator?" "You rescued a lot more during the Destruction." "Not by _myself_." "Yet you never manage to rescue the people you should...strange how that works." "How dare you..." Adama began, wondering once again if she was real, or here courtesy of Iblis. "Because you weren't around to help that last time when we could've used it, my brother, so how can I help you now? If you had been there, then Elspeth would still be here to help you out of this mess." "I don't see how your accident was my fault!" "You didn't help me or my crew! But you got command instead of me!" "You are being _such_ a brat!" Adama snarled, glaring at her. "You should've explored the unknown with us..." Alexis grinned into his face with an unnatural hiss. "...There were _so many_ surprises," another voice concluded with great amusement. Adama turned to face two blonds...who would've been Elspeth and Colonel Galen, except that their eyes were glowing and they were displaying far too many teeth for comfort. "Oh, not again!" he protested. "Think of it this way, my dear," Alexis smiled nastily, "we're lost and damned because you failed us." Then they were gone, vanished into the shadows. Adama shivered and shook his head. "No...that won't work." A dangerous idea came to mind. "Try again, Iblis! You may be losing your touch!" He began to laugh, not caring what reaction that might receive./ Iblis growled, frustrated, glaring at the unconscious Commander whose mind remained far too active to predict. "Impertinent human!" /What with ANTARES trying to make it back into contact with him - despite our attempts to frustrate that crew at every turn so that they can reach anywhere _but_ here and now - we must not allow him to believe that they still live. We _must_ go after ANTARES after we are done here. It is bad enough to have AURORA here and operational./ Jakarla merely looked quietly pleased. "My Lord, I will be pleased to take over again if you're tiring." Iblis snarled. "Watch your step..." "I fear no human. Nor even you...sir. Nightmares are my forté. Keep him off-balance long enough for me to concoct a superior one." "Very well," bristled Iblis, adding "Jakarla, I have been at this type of work for a considerably longer time than you!" "Oh, I know. But did you notice, while you were concentrating on this, that Oolini didn't answer your last summons?" A very low growl emerged from the Count; it was surprising not to see his hair standing on end, as well. "I thought not. I shall also remedy that." Jakarla chuckled and departed the Count's company. Sebastian remained silent, keeping his eyes on Iblis, not liking to stay in the same room with this one. Tired, Shannon fell asleep in the Celestial Chamber's navigator's chair, to recoup her energies from her long distance telepathing, but the encroaching Hellfire made it difficult. Those with telepathic awareness were more sensitive to its unusual and more unpleasant properties. Dreams came upon her... /Fire...the witch-obsessed Earth primitives...fire always coming back to haunt her, in whatever time she was...explosion on Nathaniel's mission...impossible to escape; he called it a "freaking deathtrap".../ ...nightmares so nerve-wracking, she awoke with a jolt, wondering if she'd screamed. What she'd seen was inspired by memories she had banished long ago to the deeper archives of her encyclopedic 'Gallikinlan' mind...but they didn't want to go away. /What would it be like for the Commander, wherever he's been taken?/ That raised a shiver. Then, with gruesome humor, she wondered, /Wouldn't it be interesting if someone died up here? They wouldn't find the body for months./ She grimaced, wishing she had left that thought strictly alone. /Stop it, I don't want to hear it./ /He ran through forestland that looked like Caprica...but knew that Cylons pursued him. That made no particular sense. When could Cylons outrun a well-trained Warrior? He tripped and answered his own question. "When the Warrior's so clumsy he doesn't watch the ground!" Cursing, Adama pulled himself back to his feet, then leaned against a tree as he caught his breath. "Ridiculous," he muttered. An arm reached out from behind and clamped across his throat - that felt Cylon, but it had just been a tree! No time for questions. He wrestled with the beast that held him. There had to be a weapon somewhere...could he think to use it? Fighting reeling dizziness, he writhed until he got his hands on the blaster he knew would be there, then fired directly into the mechanisms of the creature. With the smell of smoke and sparks, it crashed to the ground. Adama dropped to his own knees, coughing. "Got you," he gasped. He stared over at the Cylon...froze to see that the helmet had fallen off and it...was human underneath. "Huh?!" He shivered and crawled over to it out of grim, despairing curiosity... It grinned up at him with Starbuck's face. "No, _I_ got _you_," it laughed...and apparently died. Adama, frazzled beyond belief, stared at the sick joke...Starbucked to the end, he supposed. He wanted to scream. Something tapped him on the shoulder and he nearly did. Instead, he sprang to his feet and spun, staring wildly. A lean, toothy face grinned at him: a Rendelmarian. "Relax!" He tried to remember this one's name. "Cinnabar?" "Yes, the Hellraisers always do their best. Fenris and I have come for you." "A rescue mission, here?" "Heh. Not quite." Her teeth seemed a little too sharp even for a Rendelmarian, and her eyes were glowing... "Earth, you know, has the legend of the werewolf. Who better to personify it than us?" Grinning delightedly, she and her mate began to transform into slavering beasts, hounds from Hades, out for blood; it didn't take much imagination to guess whose blood they wanted. "Call this the revenge of the undead, of the ghosts that rightfully haunt you!" She howled and sprang; the Commander yelled back at her. Adama had never faced an adversary like this before; he doubted he could resign himself to the idea of a spacer, a Warrior, being eaten by animals! He fought as best as he could, which was nowhere near well enough, lacking their natural weapons. They had him on the ground, uniform in shreds, when suddenly a whipcrack split the air. The beasts startled, and with some unwillingness, ceased the assault to stalk over to the intruder...a woman in black who seemed to be a huntmistress. She chuckled as she re-coiled her whip, and muttered "Begone." The beasts obeyed her, vanishing as if they'd never been. They probably hadn't. He had felt their claws, and now there was no sign that he had been attacked. Trying to calm himself enough to stop shaking, Adama sat up, teeth clenched. "What is this, witch?" he gritted. The intruder smirked. "Simply malice and evil. Fun, hmm?" "Everyone wants me dead. Perhaps I should be. Why am I alive, then? Let me go!" He realized he was shouting at her in rage and made no attempt to stop himself. "Whoever said I wanted to be the one who always survived?! Why am I alive??" "Because it's the perfect torture." She laughed outright at him, tauntingly, then turned her back...and was gone./ Shannon worked to center herself in meditation, but continued to struggle with the telepathic effects of Hellfire. /She was on a familiar Earth beach, near a spaceport, gazing upward and watching a mission going wrong... "No. I'm not watching this again. Stop making me see these things." Sitting cross-legged in the dream-sand, she buried her face in her hands and tried to imagine her way past whatever these nightmare-workers wanted to prove. When she looked up, she saw it hadn't quite worked. A bearded man stood by her, tall and strong, his hair a mass of black curls, his eyes a deep blue. "Hello, Jen," he greeted her. "Nathaniel..." She shook her head. "I'd love to see you for real, but I'm not doing this again." "I'm still here." He grinned, teeth too sharp. "I'll always be here. Join me." He reached out to her and now he had changed, as if too-long-dead and now undead, a ghoulish creature out for blood. Shannon jumped up and backed away, but her waking mind took control. "Oh, stop it!"/ She snapped awake in the Celestial Chamber, lines from an old Earth song running through her mind: /"Grisly ghouls from every tomb / Are closing in to seal your doom / And though you fight to stay alive / Your body starts to shiver / For no mere mortal can resist / The evil of...THE THRILLER."/ Blinking a few times, shaking her head, and trying to figure out the state of reality around her, she sighed with disgust. "What is this, Iblis? Are you trying to take /'I can scare you more than any ghoul could ever dare try'/ to heart? Trying to scare me off by re-enacting old Earth music videos is pretty strange, thanks very much!" So, she wouldn't be getting much rest. /Fine, then let me try this./ She steadily entered a scanning trance to locate the ending edge of the Hellfire storm; she couldn't seem to find it. But she found something else...something chillingly evil crept up and tapped on her mind. Taken aback, she gazed upon it and felt icy fingers upon her soul. //Ah, no! Not you!// she gasped. The stranger whose psi-presence had become too familiar in dreams grinned tauntingly and spread her arms wide. //Remember Jakarla, renegade. I heard your message - you forgot to mention me. I think I may be offended.// She laughed. //You will regret finding me. Meet Iblis' Black Squadron. KNOW OUR NAME AND FEAR US!// Salik, desiring sleep to his bones, spied a morose Aristephone wandering by Apollo and Athena. "Hello," he muttered tiredly. "Doctor?" She smiled. "You look lovely," was her wry opinion. "And I feel worse. But I'm used to that. I'm not, however, used to helplessness. I can't seem to help Apollo; we can't beat what's hit him." He regarded the unconscious Captain and sighed. "Athena's none too well herself..." "I'm going to try something," mused Ari. "I want to stay with them, but need to find Adama. I must find where he is, without leaving GALACTICA." "What? How?" Ari shot a glance at him. "Telepathy?" The conservative doctor could not help the skepticism that crept into his tone, which earned him another look. "I...honestly don't understand this psi...um, not felgercarb. It's not my field. But I have been observing you and your friends, and you certainly display...something." //Yes, don't we?// she telepathed amusedly. Salik's eyes widened. "Hmm! That's...interesting!" "It does exist, sir. I may even explain Chai sometime. I must try to find and help Adama, though." Salik nodded. "I - no, I don't _understand_. But I accept what you mean." He paused, staring back at his office. "I was going to take a break...but the way I feel, if I sleep now, I won't awaken for a secton. Please excuse me, I've got a frack of a lot of research to do..." With a heavy sigh, he returned to duty. Ari quietly departed Life Center and headed to the Commander's quarters. If she could feel close to where Adama had been, then she might be able to track him with better focus. She settled down by the window to stare out at the stars. "All right, my love," she murmured. "Let us see if I prove worthy of my Ar'kinlan heritage..." Closing her eyes, she gradually relaxed and sent her spirit flying free to track the mind with which she was linked. /Closer... Yes, he _is_ out there, not so far away. Not in the Fleet, however. Adama? Ah, there!/ She followed the path before she could lose track of it...and slipped into a surrealistic plane of existence, where she met chaos. //Adama, where are you?// she called. //Adama! Do you hear me? What's happening?// //Ari?// A pause. His voice seemed distant. //I hear you...but are you real?// //Yes! Where are you?// //I can't tell. It's very dark right now. It was Caprica last time...// //Keep 'talking'// she advised. //I can find you that way, following your psi-voice.// //I'm trapped in some limbo.// He suddenly laughed harshly. //Artificial Hades! As 'good' as the real thing. I can't stand this much longer...if I had the power, I'd kill them!// Ari was startled by his vehemence. //No. Iblis _cannot_ be fought alone...// //Ari, don't stay, or they'll have _you_, too...// Adama warned. Aristephone suddenly lost track of his presence. //What?!// she exclaimed. But then, another was there, trying to overpower her with his presence. //ARISTEPHONE! CEASE YOUR INTERFERING!!// thundered his savage voice. //Iblis! Yes, the same miserable, lecherous old self of legend. Release him!// //Oh, really, Aristephone. He is my _guest_. We are having much fun. Now, begone! Do not interfere.// //He is not your willing servant! You do not have his consent! You have broken the Law!// //Law? Hah! By now, you should know that I care nothing for the Law.// //You are bound by it - you must obey!// she insisted. //Must I! What you do not comprehend is that I shall soon be free of it.// //What is THAT supposed to mean?!// Iblis unleashed a chuckle. //Jakarla will free me of it. And, after a few more mind-games, Adama _will_ give me his consent!// //You are defying further laws.// Ari persisted. //You are trying to break Chai!// The Evil One laughed again. //Spare me, child. What does a mere six-hundred-yahren-old know of Chai?// //More than the one who betrayed his own lover and tried to murder her. Count that amongst all your other crimes. You fear the Soul of Ar'kinla. You fear love, compassion, honor...// Iblis growled softly. //Leave now. Or I shall destroy you!// //'Kill' another innocent, you mean?// //Taunts do not an innocent make. And you are a degenerate, if you can stand beside a human!// //If that were true, Chai would not work on humans. You've learned nothing, in all your time.// //OUT! It would be a pleasure to twist you, too, but you may run.// Ari snarled at the Count and withdrew. Returning to herself, she found her body almost tied in knots, teeth clenched in reaction to the evil she had forced herself to stand against. She willed her muscles to relax and her brain to cease aching. Returning to her previous trance-state, she sent her mind drifting through the stars. She reached towards Ar'kinla. Far out of her depth, she must call upon the Council. But would they hear her, after her defection? /"Oh, Lords...Ari...she _is_ out there somewhere." Adama tried to reach back out to her. //Ari!// he called. What he got in response was precisely what he didn't want. Jakarla was there in the darkness with him, full of warped wrongness. "You're beyond help, human," she snarled. "You will _not_ be free of us. Your Ar'kinlan cannot save you." Her power lashed out, hit him hard, and sent him staggering; he fell to his knees, clutching his head. "You are ours. Learn your place." "No. No, I will not be your slave...I will _not_ obey!" "You _will_. It may take you longer than we anticipated to understand that, but I'm willing to keep on punishing you until you do so." "Let me GO!" Adama tried to regain his feet to stand against her, but she had called up a psychic wind as a weapon to blow him off balance. Staring up at her, all he could see was glowing eyes...and then she was summoning Hellfire, blazing with an unholy light. "You are lost. Accept that!" "No!" He tried to ward off her attack, but the surrealistic maelstrom struck again, worse than before.../ A brusque voice came to Ari's mind, speaking in formal address. //Aristephone. I see thee. Why hast thou returned?// //Lord Zardon, I have returned for thine aid. Iblis-renegade has broken our laws again. He has kidnapped and mind-trapped one, my Chai...// (she enjoyed the startled impression she received from the Lord President) //...who is not his willing slave. He must be stopped. What shall be done?// //Council - convene// commanded Zardon. Instantly, eight minds united with Ari and Zardon. -Soaron, his thoughts warm and friendly, greeted Ari with a psi-hug. -Kestal, calm, precise, and wise, welcomed her with reserve, but with a quick warm thought snuck in. -Tendall, jovial and kind, relayed his fondest regards for...Ari's upcoming wedding? If, of course, we can get Adama back... thought Ari. -Selafla, cool as a sea breeze, saluted her with respect, but little excess emotion. -Inthalla, matronly and loving, quickly questioned Ari about living conditions aboard her adopted ship, and if Adama were a suitable match. She had, for a long time, chosen to act as Ari's mother. -Testaria, to whom Ari relayed all information learned during her stay with the humans, was ever the pure scientist. A deep sadness ran through her soul, as well, and she had compensated for this by retreating into a steely, remote shell. She nodded politely to Ari, but spoke not a word. -Moralia, slender and shy, greeted her quietly. -Deleg, crisp and efficient, but insecure and known for paranoiac attacks, addressed her laconically. //Aristephone brings grave news// Zardon announced. //Iblis is on a rampage and has broken the First Law. We must decide upon our next course of action.// //Give us the details, my dear// Inthalla requested gently of Ari. //Adama-chai, who is willingly under my protection, has been abducted, mind-trapped and is being tortured by The Renegade. Apollo, son-of-chai, has contracted a mutated strain of virus - likely engineered by The Renegade himself - and is dying. Athena, daughter-of-chai, was shot and is also near death. Various innocent members of Adama chai's crew are in a true state of disrepair. My grandson-to-be has been abducted, as has Zellandra's partner, Starbuck. The Renegade has also sent a storm of Hellfire after us.// Ari strengthened herself. //I call upon the combined powers of the Ar'kinlan people, the Council of Nine, and the Gallifreyan High Council Of Time Lords, for aid in ending the threat of Iblis-renegade to the peoples of all galaxies.// She winced at her audacious proclamation. Time Lords? She may never hear the end of all this... //I say: return him to the Cage and leave him no means of escape!// Brief silence ensued while they meditated on this information. //I call for a vote!// Zardon broke the pause. //Deleg?// //I vote for the Cage, Lord.// //Inthalla?// //The Cage, for the sake of Ari and her Chai.// //Kestal?// //The Cage.// //Moralia?// //The Cage.// //Selafla?// //The Cage.// //Soaron?// //The Cage. The Renegade overreaches himself.// //Tendall?// //Banish him to the Cage, so he may harm no one else.// //Testaria?// //The Cage.// //It is unanimous// Zardon concluded. //We now break our silence and ask of the Time Lords what they agree to.// //We have received a report not long ago from a rebel traveller apparently with the Fleet. We are aware of the Situation// reported the Gallifreyan Lord President. //We have voted unanimously for the Cage.// //Then it is decided// declared Zardon. //We move against Iblis. Goddess save what remains of his soul.// Boxey clung to the woman who so resembled Serina as she led him down the hallway. "Mother? What happened?" "Hush, child. Your life is endangered." The woman glanced about quickly. "All clear. Come, little one." She led Boxey to a strangely luminous launch bay and hurried him to a shuttle sitting near the edge of the chamber. Boarding, she strapped Boxey into a seat and sat at the pilot's station. "Now, child. My name is Oolini. You must trust me. I must save you from my Master." Confirming that all systems were go with a quick sweep of her eyes, she launched the shuttle and guided it skillfully into the void. "Why do you look like my mother?" asked Boxey tearfully. "I am a shape-changer," she informed him. "I chose this body because it seemed the easiest with which to rescue you." She frowned. "It disturbs you? I am sorry." Her features changed in a blink to her normal blue-skinned self. "My Master shall certainly be displeased by my actions. He does so hate to be interfered with. He shall probably kill me." She shrugged, resigned. "But I am not evil! I am - was - his slave, but enough of my old self remains to not allow him to harm a child simply in the senseless name of revenge!" Boxey watched her silently, curiously, as they sped for GALACTICA. In her Centralizer Room, Inthalla sighed in contemplation, alone with her thoughts. /Aristephone...I remember her when she could barely transmit a clear signal a block away!/ A later memory crossed her mind, of Zellandra's wild-child act: the girl, in the grip of a tantrum, would head down a hallway, 'kinetically blasting objects in her path to pieces. Quite a child! Then Aristephone would be seen, trailing several yards behind, calmly repairing the mess her friend had created. A chuckle escaped Inthalla at these remembrances. The children-to-be-reckoned-with had matured into lovely young women; still just as rebellious and liberal-minded, but that made them more challenging. /And now both may soon be married! Time flies! So, my dear pacifist daughter-in-spirit is Chai-partners with a human military commander. Her parents would be _so_ outraged...but they have not wanted her since she allied herself with Zellie, and my opinion is...bless both Ari and Adama. The Goddess has _such_ a sense of humor sometimes, but it will show Ari that she is stronger than she thought she was./ She smiled briefly, but another sigh escaped her. /The Renegade must be stopped! He must not be allowed to harm dear _Ari's_ Chai!/ she vowed grimly. It had been eons ago when the rampaging Evil One had set out to destroy his erstwhile friends' lives before he set upon the galaxies. Her husband, her wonderful Chai, had died in that attack. She had not believed she could survive the loss. But somehow, with the help of her friends, and then her children, she had overcome the telepathic shock, the anguish, and had even remarried. Ar'kinlans could not usually do that. /Perhaps because I was meant to be an Elder of the Council? Whatever your reasons for sparing me, my Lady,/ she prayed to the Goddess, I thank you. As ever, I am grateful./ She thought of her children, all seven - from the eldest, Mikan, who was a man much like his late father; to the youngest, Derala, just discovering her powers and males at the same time. It brought Inthalla much joy to observe and school the untrained minds of such innocent little terrors. Calmly, she began to clear her mind of these intruding thoughts; she could not be distracted during the ordeal to come. Slipping into a trance, her mind reached out to be enfolded in the comforting presence of the Goddess. /Darkness and more darkness. Adama groaned and tried to force his reeling mind to return to something resembling lucidity after the impact of the Hellfire assault. He wasn't having a great deal of success. A voice called quietly, speaking his name in a voice he never wanted to hear again. He didn't reply. Perhaps if he ignored her, she would leave. But no - she called again, softly and chillingly, although his soul was already so chilled, he felt little difference. He shivered in disgust. "You cannot evade me, dear human. I know you still exist here. Our games - Iblis' and mine - have not destroyed you yet, however much we may wish it." "You're just another nightmare." Jakarla appeared before him in the dark, and again, her eyes were the only part of her he could see clearly. "Yes, I am the ultimate in nightmares." She chuckled. "They are my trademark, a sign of my visitations, as you well know. It pleases me to entertain guests." Her idea of 'entertainment' made Adama shudder. "Get out!" "You insult me. I don't leave jobs unfinished." She grinned wickedly. "Thus, Her Nightmarish Majesty has another dream scene for your...pleasure. I shall set it up for you and delight in your nightmares. Imagine...life thirty yahrens hence. You have found Earth, but it is primitive. Your Boxey is a fine Warrior. Boomer is your aide. You've lost the rest; no one else you knew remains. Your crew is young and fresh, including an Ar'kinlan advisor. Play with this. Enjoy your trip while you can still think; I'll be back for your mind eventually." She was gone. A mocking laugh remained. And Adama dreamed - of a pathetic planet in a yahren they called '1980', and wondered if his quest was truly that hopeless.../ David Auriga, called over from AURORA to see if his skills could help GALACTICA's exhausted crew, sighed in exasperation, running fingers through his unruly hair. "Colonel Tigh - I can't find a thing wrong with this computer. There's simply no reason for its injuring its operator. How is she, anyway?" "Rigel?" said Omega. "She's alive and doing well...except for her hands. She may not have full use of them." "I'm sorry for that." David paused, then an unexpected grin brightened his face. "It's a risk teleporting here from AURORA with all the bloody Hellfire about, but...I have an idea for you. Karlani...she's not only our Commander, but our resident healer. If I called her over, she could make some headway against the mess that overloads your Life Center. We'd have helped sooner if we'd known what conditions were like. Do you agree?" "Yes, we could use her. But she'd take the risk when we're under siege? You said yourself, the Hellfire..." "Yes. It's our job. I doubt she'd arrive in little chunks, if you fear that!" laughed David. "The risk is no big deal, compared with some of the other weird things we've seen strewn through the Universe!" "Wonderful. As if we need worse than what we've been getting already," sighed the pessimistic Tigh. "Thank you." "Any time!" David Auriga left the bridge and wandered down a few corridors, contemplating the bizarre situation. He hated the feeling of helplessness. It had been a joke in the days of the Colonies in all their glory that he had been _born_ working on a computer. (In his travels, he'd heard that one of his few rivals in skill was an Earthman of an alternate universe; he'd never met this Kerr Avon, but hoped to, someday.) Why could he find nothing wrong? Well-functioning computers just didn't act like this! Rigel's console had turned into a raging inferno in 5.3 microns, then become innocuous once more, with not a wisp of smoke or charred component to its name. It made no sense! /Of course, it could've been Hellfire, and I should stop looking for a rational explanation.../ Disturbed, he groaned and whacked a bulkhead with the palm of his hand. He needed to talk to Karlani. As the Hellfire was interfering with their link, he activated his personal com and contacted her in a more mundane style. Upon her consent to come aboard GALACTICA, David signed off and continued pacing. His eyes lit up as he spied Shannon nearby. "Hi there, Shan!" She walked by, not even glancing at him. "Hmm?" He stepped in front of her and grasped her shoulders, concerned at the weird look in her eyes. "You okay?" /What a remarkably stupid question.../ "Release me," she replied coldly. "I hunt for a traitor. None may escape Black Squadron." David stared into her eyes and was rather frightened at the icy look therein. "Oops!" he muttered. "Are you possessed, by any chance?" he enquired shakily. Her words had sounded familiar. "Release me, Warrior!" she snarled. "Yes, perhaps I should!" he readily agreed. "But I won't. You see, I want Shannon back. I don't want _you_." "You don't? I remember you, Auriga. You tried to prevent my destiny." "If you're J...oh, frack, you are, and _you must stop_." He forced himself to stare into those murderously glowing eyes and shake her lightly. "No one may lay hands on the Squad Leader!" she shouted. Pulling away, she slammed him against the bulkhead. Stunned, the swashbuckler slid down the wall with a groan. "Take care, Colonel," she warned. "You _are_ merely human, remember?" With that contemptuous sign-off, she strode down the corridor. "Oh, _frack_..." David moaned, willing himself not to pass out. Head spinning in conflicting directions, he pulled himself to his feet. Wondering, /Another addition to - yuck - Life Center?/ he reeled off to report to Cassie, and, he hoped, Karlani. Zellie and Fenris crept down the corridors of the basestar, moving like the hunters they both specialized in being. Zellie peered round the corridor, catching a glimpse of Cylons escorting a Colonial Warrior. /Starbuck!/ Losing a little caution with that realization, she turned the corner too quickly, timing off. "HALT, INTRUDER!" came a mechanical bellow. "Aggh, _just_ what we needed, thank you!" gasped Fenris. "Oops! Well, let's get deeper into the felgercarb!" Zellie drew her blaster and, like the professional she was, started taking down the group of Cylons at top speed. Fenris leaped out and joined her. It didn't last long, and only Starbuck was left standing by the end. "Zellie! Am I glad to see you!" He proved it, too, with a passionate kiss. She extricated herself with great regret. "I'd love to take this up with you later, but now isn't the time. And certainly not the place! Nice place to visit..." "But I wouldn't want to live here, no!" he concluded. Fenris cleared his throat with a growl. "Or die here, I would sincerely hope." "Oh, uh...sorry, Fenris. Got distracted." He winked at Zellie joyfully. "You wouldn't happen to know if Baltar's aboard this scrapheap, would you?" she wondered. "I do and he is." "Think we'd have time to dispose of the garbage?" "Smelly garbage he is, too," remarked Fenris, crouching and wrinkling his nose. "Unique aroma, that of traitor..." Then his ears shot up and he stared down the corridor. "No, no time. Let's be going." He sprang to his feet. Starbuck and Zellie heard a distant clatter, then - a squadron of alerted Cylons. "No time!" they agreed in unison. "Since we've got company, Zellie, let's see about getting ourselves away from here - preferably intact!" They dashed off after the Rendelmarian tracker, hearing the foot patrol behind them. "I'm not worried," grinned Zellie. "This'll be simple!" "Are you serious, woman?!" "She is, Starbuck," Fenris agreed, "she is. Can you survive this sense of humor?" He winked. Starbuck almost burst out laughing. Zellie grinned evilly and started a lecture. "Cylons attack in large groups because they can't aim straight on their own. Yet they consider themselves superior to every sentient lifeform in the Universe? I don't think so." She laughed. "But here, have a gun." She reached into her armament belt. "Have two!" She handed them over to Starbuck, who gladly took them. Zellie holstered one of her guns, waved the other blaster casually, and remarked again, "This is simple." "And you are impossible," Fenris called back over his shoulder. "Did anyone ever tell you that?" "Everyone," she shot back. "I stopped listening." "Aren't you underestimating the Cylons, though?" Starbuck insisted. "They wiped out our Colonies!" "Through surprise, thanks to your pacifistic President. Ar'kinla should look at the example of Adar and wise up!" "I...well...thanks. You're great at dramatic entrances and exits." "Yeah, I excelled in that at school. As you can see, I flunked pacifism hands-down!" "I don't doubt it!" "Get down, fast-_now_!" called Fenris. He threw himself past them, went into one of the most incredible leaps and rolls that Starbuck had seen, holding his guns in his tail, and came back up in a crouch with guns back in his hands. "...oh, frack, _simple_?!" Starbuck howled as other Centurions arrived in front of them. Part of the bulkhead blew out as a laser ripped past their heads. He dived and fired from the deck. Zellie executed a gymnast's roll of her own, fired, rolled again, came into a firing crouch with guns in both hands, blasting as necessary. She and Fenris covered several directions as Starbuck swung to the rear, anticipating arrival of the pursuit. Zellie's vision was clearing from the blast, but she'd had combat instinct and hearing working in her favor, which made up for ignoring the tracker's good instincts not to relax in enemy territory. /Sorry, Fenris, I must stop giving you heart attacks./ Playing unfairly, she extended a telekinetic tendril and blasted a metallic head off. "Oh, _good_," she murmured as she watched the head fly through the air to land at the advancing feet of another Centurion. She fired at that one with her laser and took it out. Was that the last from there? She turned to Starbuck. "I don't know if I should bring this up, but it'd be a good idea to retreat now," he remarked over his shoulder. "When I'm having so much fun?!" "Zellie!" Fenris shook his head. "You are a maniac, Captain, and usually I love you for it, but Cinnabar will have a fit if you get me killed." "And she has those teeth and claws," Zellie reflected. "Yeah, okay. Come on." She spun and dashed the route they'd been on previously, Starbuck at her side, Fenris following. They reached the launch bay, gasping slightly. Zellie glanced around the bay, eyes manic. "Hmm...my Viper's a mess. We, er, wore it out already." "I'm not surprised, m'dear!" "Wore me out, as well." Fenris made a show of yawning. "Don't blame me for Viper murder. That was all you." Zellie flashed a grin. "You seemed to think it would be a boring day until then. I didn't hear you complain. Starbuck, I don't see your Viper anywhere. Let's grab a Raider." "Can you fly one of those things? I mean, Apollo and I did it once, but we didn't enjoy it much..." "Hey, Bucko, this pilot is an Ar'kinlan! I can fly anything! And you have experience, as you just said! And Fenny can help us!" She ran to one of the Cylon fighters, pulled the hatch open, and boarded it. Starbuck and Fenris followed suit. "Oh, these ships are sheer felgercarb," Zellie complained. "But they fly. Sort of." "_Badly_," added Fenris. "Oh, happy day. I get to play Cylon." He stuck out his tongue in some disgust. "Just sit in the back and look pretty," Starbuck remarked, taking the co-pilot's seat. "_Look_ pretty?" Fenris grinned. "I am _always_ pretty. _And_ useful." "But _we're_ the pilots, my friend," Zellie teased. "This is true." Despite having gone into space, the Rendelmarian prefered ground-style combat that tied in with his abilities as a hunter and tracker, although the Hellraisers had given him flight lessons. They ran what checks they could, then with power up, blasted away from the deathtrap. Zellie breathed deeply, exhaled with a grin, and eyed Starbuck. "As I said, darlin'...that was simple." Starbuck stared at her in disbelief he realized he probably shouldn't feel, considering the source, and laughed wildly. Fenris simply rolled his eyes and pretended to pass out at his post. Baltar stalked around his chamber, grumbling with annoyance, and decided to question his orders. "Jakarla, am I allowed to speak to you?" he growled. Turning around to pace some more, he stopped short as he almost crashed into the suddenly-present Squad Leader. "Speak if you wish." "I don't appear to have the role in this game of revenge that I was hoping to have. Could you tell me what you _will_ allow me to do?" "Be patient," Jakarla laughed. "Adama is not being cooperative, but we shall overcome him. We intend to leave just enough of him to be aware as Iblis takes him over, and in Adama's form, humiliates and demoralizes his people. Once we are finished to our satisfaction, you will be free to go in and kill Adama as you please and destroy GALACTICA." Baltar snorted. "I'd rather that Adama be more aware of what's happening to him than that." "Take what you can get," Jakarla advised with a nasty grin, "and enjoy it while you have it." She stared away for a moment and laughed harshly. "Well, what a surprise. Starbuck has just escaped. You didn't get to enjoy _that_ for long." "What? WHAT??" Baltar exploded with wrath. "Alas, your Cylons are not terribly useful in plans of Universal domination..." "WHAT?!" Baltar persisted. "Stop spitting on me. It's most unpleasant." "I'll spit on you..." he started, but Jakarla's glare snapped him out of that dangerous course of action. "Do that and you'll be missing several favorite parts of your anatomy." "I probably have no further use for them anyway, at this point!" Baltar grumbled and stalked away, unable to stop thinking of how Imperious Leader would punish him for continued failure. _If_ he learned about this, of course. Perhaps he could find a way to avoid that... Sheba had had to dare the Hellfire storm and she would have agreed that it was not in the least fun. Managing a decent, if dazed, landing, she left her Viper...and met Shannon. There was something wrong there, for sure. She might be a strange woman, but not _this_ strange. "Are you all right?" /Space-happy?/ "Sheba..." the alien mused, and grinned nastily. "I am awaiting a visitor. Not you, though the Count might like to deal with you..." /Iblis? No, I won't have him near me again!/ Sheba backed away quickly and ran out of the bay. In her rush to report this latest problem, she forgot to go through Decontamination... "Bruised, battered, and mildly concussed. You're lucky," observed Cassie to David. "_You're_ lucky," he smiled ruefully. "I didn't get myself butchered and admitted to Life Center in a coma!" "True." A very frightened Sheba burst into Life Center and yelled, "Cassie! Shannon's off her thrusters!" "Yeah, we know that," remarked David. "Colonel Auriga! Are you all right?" "In slight pain, but yes." "Now, be _careful_," Cassie urged as he stood. "Sheba - where was she?" "I met her in the landing bay, really weird and saying she was awaiting someone. I didn't like that smile. And she threatened me with Iblis!" "I think I should call Security," observed Cassie. "Really? They're used to demonic possession?" David sighed. "No sense in slaughtering your troops. Karlani and I will take care of it." "I admire your optimism." The Colonel grinned. "Thanks." He went on his way. "Cassiopea..." Sheba began. "I'm really worried." "Aren't we all?" "Yes, but what I mean is that people are being attacked around me, and I haven't been touched. So is Iblis saving me for last, or is he ignoring me, or is watching my comrades falling around me supposed to be my punishment?" "I see what you mean." Cassie sighed. "Try not to think about it too deeply. Don't give him the satisfaction of worrying." /Easy for you to say!/ passed through Sheba's mind, but she dismissed it as unfair. Boxey sat unmoving as Oolini piloted the shuttle through the raging Hellfire. "Oolini?" came his scared little voice. "Yes, Boxey?" "Do you know where we're going?" "Yes, the GALACTICA." "Yeah, but - do you know where it is?" "Not in this storm, no," she admitted. "Do you?" Boxey shook his head. "Ah..." The tall, wiry, feathered woman entered Life Center. "Cassiopea?" The medtech turned to her. "David called me over to assist." "Ah, yes. Unfortunately, he left to take care of...someone gone slightly space-happy. Can I help, Commander?" "Better I should ask can _I_ help, though that's obvious. You look very full of business." "Indeed." Cassie filled Karlani in on the details. "And," she concluded, "I finally convinced Dr. Salik to rest, because, the way he was working, he would have made himself a casualty - and at the very least, that would be rather rude of him!" Karlani laughed. "Indeed," she echoed. "A pity, though, for him to miss Karlani at work. That would...shall we say, knock his brain out of whack." Ari stepped forward. "We need Apollo's aid in the battle to come. Can you assist him?" "We can only hope, yes?" She crossed to Apollo and laid her fingers upon his face, being, as ever, careful with her talons. /An intense fever/, she remarked to herself. Eyes closed, she relaxed and looked inward, serenity settling upon her features. "Cassiopea," she murmured, "I want you to monitor our respiration and heartbeat. I'll link with Apollo and attempt to heal him." "Attempt? I don't like the sound of that." "Neither do I, but it can't be helped. And if it doesn't succeed, we may both die." "But..." "But it must be attempted. You know that." She ceased talking. A strange, luminous glow surrounded the avian woman, spreading from her hands to encompass Apollo. Cassie eyed the monitors: the heartbeat was slowing. Karlani was matching and gently manipulating Apollo's lifesigns. Ari watched nervously, praying that the Hellraisers' leader would succeed. She'd seen her in action before; she was certainly talented, yet Apollo's disease had already proven itself fierce to combat. Karlani's voice came from a distance. //No...fight, Warrior// she growled. //Don't you dare let me lose you.// "Pull out," suggested Ari. "Or let me help." //I can hold him. You may be Ar'kinlan, but you have...your own concerns. Save your power for the battle and Adama.// Ari nodded and withdrew from the argument. Cassie grinned. "Heartbeat stabilizing. Respiration near-normal. She's bringing him back." The glow turned from soft blue, to sea green, then to light pink as all signs levelled off and stabilized. Karlani groaned, briefly exhausted, and collapsed into a nearby chair. Apollo, confused, opened his eyes and slowly sat up. He glanced around, peering inquisitively at Karlani. "She's all right," Ari assured him. "She saved your life - healed you from that marvelous mutant virus." "Allow me to disconnect you from the lifepod before you get up?" suggested Cassie to a slightly overeager Captain. "Uggh. Thanks so much," he remarked when she was done and had fetched him a robe. "Apollo," began Ari, "we need you." "Need me? Why?" "We need you as a focus for the combined powers of the Ar'kinlans and Time-Slime...excuse me, 'Lords.' Old habits are hard to break." Apollo smiled indulgently. "Anyway," she continued, "isn't it nice to feel wanted?" "That depends on what you want me to do! What _do_ I do?" "Just stand before Iblis and let us work through you. Remember - whatever you do, _never_ turn your back on Iblis. He's a treacherous piece of scum!" Apollo smiled at her. "I will help. And," he added, "I'll be proud to consider you my 'mother'." Ari grinned delightedly. "Adama and I were concerned about that." She paused, hesitant. "About Adama...ah, I hate to tell you this, Apollo, but he's in massive trouble. While you were out, he was abducted off his shuttle. Athena was shot - she's here, Apollo; she's alive," Ari tried to assure him as he suddenly looked around for his sister. "He's...he's being tortured, dealing with telepathic abuse at the least, and...I'm afraid that something we'll be fighting Iblis for is...Adama's soul." Apollo stared, stricken, tempted to either run screaming down the corridors or to pass out into another coma... Karlani rose from her chair, stretching. "Don't panic, Captain," she remarked. "With such as Ari fighting for him, your father will be in good hands." She closed her eyes briefly. "I must leave now; David is calling me." She rushed out. Starbuck began to doubt Zellie's claim of being able to fly any type of ship, as well as his own related belief. They _flew_ the Raider, all right, but didn't seem to be in control. It was a wildly bumpy ride. The Raider hurtled along faster than the Cylons had designed it to, weaving madly. "Whuf!" he exclaimed, as another shake knocked him back in his seat. Fenris grimly hung on, apparently finding all comment to be superfluous. "Excuse it," Zellie told him. "There are certain outside influences at work." "Yeah?" "Yep. Have you looked behind us yet?" "Huh?" Starbuck activated the rear scan. Stars were not the only things out there. There was an odd mass of writhing flames, some in pursuit of them. "Wha...what's _that_ felgercarb?!" "That?" Zellie asked innocently. "The reason my Viper became an inoperable mess." She nodded at Fenris. "We were being chased by it. Flew through it, too." "What _is_ it?" "Hellfire." "You...you flew through Hellfire?!" "Yeah. Looks like we might have to again. Lucky you - you get to share it with us." "Oh dear...is this a new definition of luck? It certainly doesn't fit what I'm accustomed to! Any chance we can avoid damnation for a while?" Starbuck winced, closed his eyes. He'd never been particularly religious, but now he distinctly felt like praying. Or passing out. Or both! The Raider continued its berserkly headlong voyage towards GALACTICA... Karlani joined David outside the landing bay. "Yes, David?" "I need your help, my dear. We have a case of demonic possession on our hands." He briefed her on the details. "I see. You also, personally, need my help, don't you?" Karlani calmly reached over and laid a hand on David's head, relieving the pain. "Thanks!" he remarked, unleashing his infectious grin, one thing for which she neither had nor wanted a cure. "Nothing to it," she smiled. "You were looking a little ragged." Together, they watched their prey as she stood gazing impatiently out at the stars. She looked bored. That might make their mission easier. "Join me..." Karlani murmured to the Colonel. Karlani was not a powerful telepath; she was linked to David Auriga and could psi-speak while healing, but her psi was indeed primarily empathic healing. David was the stronger psi. Along with enhanced technological skills, he had ended up with telepathy and a photographic memory; he imagined that whatever genetic mutation had occurred had also given him the atypical look of dark skin, blond hair and blue eyes, but he'd always rather liked the contrast. Together, this swashbuckling couple could link minds, boosting one another's strength, if need be. What one could not do alone, the pair could accomplish. Thus, the two concentrated together now...and startled 'Shannon' with a light but painful mindblast. She whirled to face them, with a gasp, raising a hand to strike back. "No, you don't!" commanded David; they forced her to stay where she was. Advancing, they saw the 'Gallikinlan's' true nature trying to reassert itself. "Yes!" insisted Karlani. "Fight it! Your guest has no right to be in there with you." Shannon closed her eyes and clenched her teeth until she was shaking. Then, with a great gasp, she reeled and fell right into David's arms. "Oops! I think she fainted..." "I've got something here, might snap her out of it." Karlani withdrew a small container. "Oh dear. That's strong enough to snap a planet out of orbit!" David remarked. The effect was instant; with a disgusted gag, Shannon's eyes popped open and she yelped. "Gross!" she protested vehemently. "What the ¡¿#@%...‡?! is that?!" "I take it you're back with us!" David laughed. "Is your unwanted tenant evicted?" "Aye, thank you, and good riddance to her!" "What precisely happened, m'friend?" "Carelessness happened, Colonel. I was scanning while too tired, made contact I shouldn't have, and thus, was easily ambushed. _So_ embarrassing." "You met Jakarla. She acquired leadership of this Black Squadron along the way." "She's Squad Leader, yes. She's mad. I know she's the one who's given us these dreams, but could you please explain her connection to Iblis? It seems she abducted Boxey, but was foiled by one of Iblis' slaves, who rescued him and stole a shuttle. She was waiting for this slave to arrive here, so she could kill her. Fun, hmm?" She glanced away, a distinctly nauseated aura to her. "I think I'm gonna be sick..." "If it's any consolation, you didn't kill anyone," David assured her. "Though I was whacked into a bulkhead trying to stop her." "Oh dear. I did that?" "No, Jakarla did." He shook his head and exchanged a quietly distressed look with Karlani. "Am I missing out on something?" "Yes," David admitted, "a lot of something, some past mayhem. We knew her some yahrens back. I hate to admit it, but...before she freaked out, she was...one of us." He gulped slightly at Shannon's fierce gaze; it seemed to suggest she was not in the mood for his usual banter. Understandable. "I mean, a Hellraiser." "WHAT?!" Shannon roared. David blinked. "Yes. Please understand, it's madly twisted history. It's all in the AURORA archives, and would take centars to explain..." "I don't have time to consult your computers, Colonel. Condense it. I need to get up to speed." "All right," decided Karlani. "We had a...ward, I suppose you'd call her. A young half-Ar'kinlan: Jakarla. Iblis was her father. We never knew her mother - we were told something about sorcery and vampirism, though." "Oh, that's wonderful!" "Not entirely. The Ar'kinlans dropped her off into our custody one day, to protect her - much good we did - with very little warning or explanation." "They like to work that way. More inscrutable than Time Lords," Shannon observed sardonically. "True. Anyway...she and a colleague of ours, Dr. Sebastian, were close. Naturally, he worried when she reported dreams that suggested Iblis was getting to her. When she sensed something calling to her from a planet, she requested that Sebastian fly her there. They were intercepted by a pirate band led by an Ar'kinlan named Toragon. He knew Jakarla was _wrong_ somehow. On top of that, the delay was unhinging her. We don't know how they were convinced, but they took Jakarla and Sebastian to their destination." Karlani sighed deeply. "That was one of the worst moves in recorded history. It was a sort of temple they found there, an evil magickal altar; when she reached and entered it, she _changed_. The landing party didn't survive the results, as far as we knew. The ship was telekinetically hit; half the crew were blasted to oblivion. We helped Thunderbird limp home, and got the Ar'kinlan survivors back." "Zellie lived to tell the tale, of course," David added. "She'd remained aboardship, but survived." He nodded as Shannon blinked at him in surprise. "Yes, she was there. Toragon was her father. She lost friends and her parents, and she has a blood feud with Jakarla." "Oh, this is just _loads_ of fun," Shannon grimaced savagely. Aboard a custom-made TARDIS, Jolene Whomana and two human companions, Daniel and Dori, zoomed through the space-time continuum. Uncommonly solemn, the 'Mistress of the TARDIS' checked the coordinates. Dressed in the elegant robes of a Supreme Scientist, Junior Age-Group, the young brunette Time Lady cut an impressive figure. But right now, all her companions were was worried. She'd been acting even stranger than usual, meditating and wearing ritual garb, since receiving some sort of mysterious message from a friend. "We should be arriving at our destination in a few minutes," she announced, voice devoid of its usual warm levity. "Just where are we going, if I may ask?" said Daniel laconically, leaning against one side of the control console. "Why all the secrecy?" "Our destination?" Jolene looked as if she was still in a trance. "Our destination...?" she repeated. /I may have to hit her if she insists on parodying a broken record.../ sighed Daniel to himself "We are going to the battlestar GALACTICA for a rendezvous with...The Count." "The Count?" Dori echoed, blonde hair slipping into her face. She brushed it aside irritably. "Count Iblis!" whispered Jolene. "The most insidious being since Morbius and the Master! He's spread other names through the cosmos: Diabolis, Mephistopheles, the Prince of Darkness...well, you get the idea." She smiled weakly, a ghost of her usual laughing self. "_This_ is who we get to meet?" Daniel asked tentatively. "Yes, I'm afraid so," Jolene affirmed. "Oh." He laughed shortly. "Fun." /Adama's grip on sanity grew ever more precarious...he felt the berserker of last-resorts training compelling him to destroy the enemy by whatever means necessary. "I'm supposed to be so damned _civilized_." he muttered, then laughed at the thought; it wouldn't serve him here. He hoped the berserker would erupt onto one of the demons before him. Could they be physically harmed in this place? Probably not, but he had nothing to lose except his soul...unless that was already damned for real. It was possible; God was not anywhere in this place. He had nothing to hold onto... He felt a distracting psychic wrench. Another scene began to coalesce around him, recognizable as Caprica. He identified it as his own place...not his and Ila's, but his parents'. He also knew that his father was due back here, on leave from the GALACTICA, the battlestar he would inherit command of. "_Would?_" he echoed his own thought. Losing it, for certain. Part of him no longer cared. The part that sought to keep control was growing unreachable. A familiar voice, from long ago, spoke to him. "Adama. Come, my son." "Father?" He turned to greet the Commander. He was much as Adama remembered - tall, gray hair, a white streaked beard, a rugged handsomeness to his features - and presently standing in a sardonically amused stance, eying his son rather...unpleasantly. That look gave Adama pause. "You have fracked up," he remarked coolly. "What?" Adama looked confusedly at the man. The first generation commander grinned nastily. His son blinked. He had fangs... "Lovely, yes? Allow me to...change into something more comfortable." Adama blinked fiercely, shook his head. Nothing changed. Bewildered, he turned away. "Running again?" came a barbaric growl. Adama spun at the sound of that voice and recoiled. "What - what are you?!" he gasped. His short-circuiting mind must be hallucinating, because what he saw before him was demonic - certainly not a human? "You can't be..." "I am!" laughed the creature. "Do you care to see yourself? There is a mirror here somewhere..." "Oh no..." Adama groaned. He forced himself to look into that mirror. It nearly made him scream. The image wasn't...human. Hands covering his face, he turned from it in terror, and nearly collapsed. The beastly parody of the former Commander spoke again. "That is the image of your soul. Live with it, murderer. "It is what you made of yourself." "No!" the present Commander almost sobbed, "I'm not a murderer!" "Don't lie to yourself!" came the snarling reply. "Denial cannot help you. Listen to your accusers - they only speak the truth. Count those you have led to destruction - if you can. If you cannot face it, you are a coward, as well!" Very much on the edge of a raging breakdown, all Adama could manage to ask was, "Why did you ever let me take command?!" "You once showed potential. But you failed - I overestimated you!" Adama felt his mind unravelling. This was past his ability to endure. Whatever else he had experienced in his career as a Warrior, he was certain that no physical pain could possibly equal the absolute agony whatever remained of his soul was now feeling. Never the type to scream, he now threw his head back and unleashed an awesome, almost barbaric howl of anguish. Then he passed out, cheating his berserker-self./ "Such style, my daughter. I'm almost willing to forgive your losing part of the package to my revenge." "What did you want with a child?" the black-haired female snorted arrogantly. "A midnight snack?" She laughed. "You threaten your champion, Count? The one who is willing to spread your legacy through the cosmos? Kindly take care." "Your bloodlust does you credit, Squad Leader," Iblis replied carefully. Even he was a little unsettled at his heir's strength of will. She was happy to overstep her bounds with him. "However..." "However - no one escapes Black Squadron. How well I know that. Your errant slave means nothing to me, but if you please, I shall destroy her - if only to keep true that promise." "Of course," he smiled. She leered back nastily. Iblis sighed. If she were anyone else, he would have destroyed her long ago. She was a threat and he could not trust her. She would happily kill for him, but she was just as likely to betray him. "The worms plan to challenge me soon," he continued. "I must prepare. You _are_ the nightmare-worker; I shall need you to continue what I began with our...guest." "Oh, I shall be overjoyed." Zellandra, Starbuck, and Fenris approached the Fleet - what relief! Zellie was exhilarated, her lust for dangerous living sated for the time being. She sent out a telepathic broadcast aimed for GALACTICA. //Hey, Tigh! Guess who! Don't panic about the advancing Cylon Raider - it's me!// Tigh gasped. Non-telepathic himself, he was aware that Zellie could read what he thought if he formed it clearly enough in his mind. /Captain! You're alive??!/ //Alive as ever! So are Starbuck and Fenris. It'll take more than Hellfire to slaughter me. I even managed to wreak havoc on two innocent ships in the process of escaping - my Viper and this silly Cylon craft.// /You're not going to crash-land, are you?/ //No. Danger thrills me, but so does life. That, I don't think you need to worry about. 'Course, the thing might explode upon landing...// /More chaos?/ //Chaos and I are old friends! Where one goes, the other is bound to follow! Some suggest Entropy accelerates in my presence!// She grew serious. //Please clear me for landing. There'll be chaos enough, soon - the battle with Iblis approaches.// /You're cleared, Captain. Try not to make too much of a mess. We don't want you splattered all over the landing bay!/ Zellie smiled. She liked the Colonel's sense of humor. In some ways, he was a kindred spirit, but he kept himself under much tighter control. A pity. He should cut loose the way she did, once in a while, channel that fiery nature similarly. He might enjoy it! Then again, he might wind up in the brig. But the thought of the dignified Colonel on a (restrained) rampage amused her. She and her comrades guided the Cylon Raider into the bay with consummate skill. Luckily, upon landing, the poor beleaguered craft merely broke down - probably never to move again - but didn't explode. Zellie and Starbuck hopped out joyfully, greeted by enthusiastic cheers from the admiring ground crew. Fenris sprang out and showed off by somersaulting through the air and landing on his feet. "Let's go report," suggested Zellie, as Starbuck grinned at her lustily, hoping for a chance to 'take it up with her again' _now_. Fenris took a look at their evident state of mind, and headed off for the lift, laughing. "It can't be _that_ funny!" Starbuck protested. "I should win an award," Fenris called back. "Rendelmarian forced to stay in cramped ship with two hormonally-wired Warriors, neither of whom wants _him_ - somehow survives experience." "Oh, that's not fair...guess it's true, though," Starbuck reflected. "I can read your mind," Zellie grinned, "and you should be ashamed of yourself!" At Starbuck's mournful look, she added, "If we're alive after the battle, how does several centars of wild animal passion sound to you? No, don't answer that. Believe me, I know. But we've really got to settle down and relax inthe coming centars. We'll need all our strength." With a wicked chuckle, she kissed him and went to join Fenris at the lift for the bridge. Starbuck sighed wistfully and followed. 'If we're alive'? Whatever happened to living for the moment? It all seemed to be getting worse and worse... *** Part 3 To the bewilderment of the bridge crew, an incredible grinding howl burst forth. They stared as a totem pole materialized before them in all its carved glory. After a pause, a young, berobed brunette stepped out of this irrational decoration. "Hi!" she remarked breezily. "Is this the GALACTICA?" Tigh stared at her. His mind staggered a few steps, then recovered. "Uh...yes." "I'm Jolene Whomana. I've come to help. Is Shannon still with you, by any chance?" "Yes. I'll call her." Shannon arrived moments later amidst a whoosh of dimensional cloak. She'd never liked using the elevators. "Jo!" she shouted. The two young women came to each other and clasped hands. "It's good to see you, m'friend. I heard your call." "What of the Doctor?" "Father has reported to the High Council. They've let him temporarily take command! He does, after all, have much more experience with aliens." Shannon laughed. Eying Jolene's TARDIS, she snorted. "Nicely anachronistic." "Yes, it never has been one for subtlety." "Haven't met mine yet, have you? David Auriga and I finished work on it. When I tested it, I was given a Grecian statue draped in a twenty-foot-long scarf..." Tigh gulped, having lost track of this conversation some time ago. "Would you mind parking your, uh, craft elsewhere? It's rather...distracting." A perplexed-looking young blond man poked his head out of an illogical door. "Have we arrived correctly?" "Yes! Such little faith, Danny," she chided. "Can you blame me?" Daniel ducked back inside. "All right. Let's get my Ship moved, then we can prepare for impending Universal havoc." Shannon joined Jolene inside. The TARDIS vworped to a less conflicting location. Oolini let out a deep, relieved sigh; somehow, to her own amazement, she had at last fixed on the Fleet. Navigating with all her concentration, she saw the GALACTICA. She matched frequencies and called in. "GALACTICA - GALACTICA, do you hear me?" "Colonel Tigh speaking. Who is this, please?" "Oolini. I am escaping Iblis and have Boxey with me. Will you please clear me for landing?" Tigh digested this, his overworked brain forcing itself to concentrate and comprehend. "Yes," he affirmed, then gave instructions. Complying, Oolini docked the shuttle smoothly. Relieved, the alien woman sat back in the pilot's seat with a sigh. "Oolini?" she heard Boxey ask tentatively. "Yes?" "Remind me never to fly with you again, please?" "It was that bad?" She noted his greenish tinge, not a typical human shade. "Yeah. I'm spacesick..." /Reality's constant shifts gave Adama nothing he could anticipate, except equally constant nightmares he knew he wouldn't be able to escape by awakening. It switched from the blackness of sensory deprivation, or assaultive psychedelia, or the dream scenes that were virtually real but uncontrollably wrong. He couldn't be certain how long he'd been away, or even where he had really been before this... A sudden bright light caused him to gasp, then he found himself kneeling on deck plating, hands chained like a prisoner. Someone kicked him. He tried to protest and was dragged to his feet. "You're on trial," sneered Jakarla. "You'd probably guessed that. Come, human." "I am Adama," he reminded both of them. "Call me _that_." "You're dead. Or undead, here. Try to figure that out," she chuckled with surprisingly normal humor. Adama wondered if he could jump her, hit her with the damnable chains, but she glared back at him. "You have no right to recognition here. Except as a murderer. Face your accusers." "I have!" "No, this is a bit new. Enjoy." He couldn't see anyone past the light, but heard a clamor of outraged voices, an oppressive force that grated on his nerves till his head ached. A creature stormed from the surrounding darkness and sneered into his face. It was barely recognizable as human; Adama choked on the smell and the realization that it must be the remains of a fried pilot come to life. Undead, indeed. Viper fuel did terrible things when ignited. He'd been a pilot long enough to recognize the remnants and never want to see them again. "You killed us. Face your sentence." Harsh and barely human, this thing's voice was still recognizable. It seemed to be Zac again. "Oh, God..." Adama nearly did throw up. The creature snorted a laugh, then moved away. That was too merciful to have been intentional, he was certain. "We're all here...'Commander.' All those whose deaths you're responsible for. Your nightmares have come to get you, since you didn't let us rest!" "No...I didn't kill you! Hunt down the Cylons who fired on you!" "Cylons don't matter. The Commander's decision is all that counts." "And I wasn't there to give it! Go haunt Tigh!" Adama yelled. "Unless you already do?! _He_ sent you! Well, no, you sent _yourself_, Zac - call it suicide!" "Oh, charming...we won't let you be free of us with excuses like that. And why weren't you there?" "You must answer to them," Jakarla gloated. "Your command, your responsibility." "I didn't kill them! I've never killed a human..." "Oh?" she smirked. "I never have, damn it! I didn't do any of this!" "Not accepted. You must plead your guilt." "I always feel the guilt! But command seems to consist of sending people out to do fatal things! I have to do it, but I'm not the one blasting them to pieces!" "You may as well be, if you think about it." She seemed terribly amused. "Stop it! You're a C.O. - are you so perfect?!" "My talents are not at issue. Acknowledge your guilt." "I do, but not as a murderer!" "Not accepted. They accuse you...I sentence you..." "You're guilty!" Jakarla's pet creature announced. The other voices shouted it at him. "I am not...stop it...STOP IT! LEAVE ME ALONE! GET OUT OF MY MIND!!" Adama began screaming back at them, not even caring that he was losing control. "I will not give in to you! You will not win! Go away!" He was unexpectedly free of the chains and swung them at the Squad Leader, who ducked out of reach. She uncoiled a whip she had somehow acquired. "Whoa!" she laughed. "I love a good challenge!" She struck the chains out of his hand, then backed away with a mock salute. "Shame on me, I got distracted! I won't lose control again, count on that." Jakarla faded into the dark...everything did, leaving nothing but oppressive, fracking blackness.../ "Sweet demoness," Jakarla remarked with unaccountable amusement, "I didn't quite expect that..." "You fool," Iblis retorted. "He's human and military; of course he'll be violent. Primitives _are_. You think _I'm_ not in control! You're annoying me, daughter!" Jakarla glared back at him. "Isn't the fault yours, for _training_ me to underestimate humans? Don't forget you thought this would be easy!" "If you cannot accomplish this job without blaming me for what you're doing wrong, then leave it to me. I shall return after the battle..." Who says you'll _survive_? she thought angrily. "I heard that! Now you're underestimating _me_ - a fatal mistake. I do not require your help now. Do not interfere. Leave our guest to the darkness, alone. He'll suit me just fine insane. Then you can have him for Black Squadron. Now stay back." "No problem!" she gritted and walked out. //May you fall into a black hole and be eaten by the great demon king Bitz-Roachian!// Iblis overheard the curse as intended and actually winced. The centars passed. The combatants had prepared. Aristephone, Zellandra, Shannon, Jolene, and Apollo stood, quietly and relatively calmly, in a circle. "Take our hands, Apollo," advised Ari. Apollo joined hands with her and Jolene; the rest of the group followed suit. They settled into a trance, Apollo hearing Ari's guidance. //Follow us.// His soul began to soar. Linked with the alien women and beginning to realize his latent skills, he joined them in astral projection, out in space. Looking about himself, he stared in awe. //Lords!// he exclaimed. //We are prepared// Ari announced. A magnificent, twinkling 'starship' appeared, more beautiful than could be comprehended in human terms. Its sound was pure; Apollo now recalled that no human could bear it without losing consciousness, but now, he somehow could. //The Ship of Lights!// Ari spoke something in a musical language, then returned to Standard Colonial. //A ship of the mind// she revealed. //The Soul of Ar'kinla. In this way, the Elders travel, in astral form. You are greatly honored to see it, Apollo.// //It's...beautiful!// //It is that.// A being appeared, shimmeringly robed. It spoke. //Captain.// //Your voice...?// //Yes, we have met. Welcome. I shall reveal myself to you.// It cast off its disguise. //If you met my body, you would see this.// A tall, handsome male, with large blue eyes, long gray-blond hair, beard completely white. //I am Lord President Zardon.// Pausing, he beckoned elsewhere. //Join me, friends.// The remainder of the Council materialized around him. //Time Lords - come.// Led by a gaunt, tall man in ritual Gallifreyan robes, they also arrived. //Greetings!// he saluted. His eyes shone blue like an Ar'kinlan's, but his cascading riot of curly hair was red-brown. A strong, presently solemn face betrayed a highly irregular wackiness that, for the moment, was in tight restraint. //I am The Doctor, acting President of the Time Lords.// //You have regenerated!// Shannon observed, liking what she saw. //Yes. Spiders and radiation. I shall have to explain one day...// A brief pause was allowed for settling in. Zardon gazed somberly at Lady Testaria, who stood stiffly, a grimly sorrowful look on her face. //Are you all right?// he sent for her alone. //Even now, I still love The Renegade. He almost killed me, yet I still sense the echo of Chai. I do not know why it has never left. What of you, Lord? Iblis is your brother - and Selafla's.// //Yes. That is...regrettable. When he murdered our family, I swore I would make him pay. That is not right for an Ar'kinlan to do, but nothing remained the same when Iblis berserked.// Taking a deep, composing breath, Zardon turned, straightened his ritual garb, and gestured for Apollo to come forward. This the Captain did. The Doctor came to stand beside Zardon. //Roll-call for the Ar'kinlan Council of Nine// began Zardon. //Deleg, Chief of Agriculture?// //Y...Yes, Lord. I think I am here.// //You think?// sighed Zardon. /Goddess, not again.../ Deleg was not the most stable personality at the best of times, but this was no time for a crisis. Deleg caught this thought and grimaced. //Forgive me. I am present, Lord. So is my mind.// //Thank you.// Zellie chuckled and sent to Apollo, //He can't help it. He was always odd, but he went into psychiatry. He got Iblis for a patient. You can see what it did to both of them!// //Ow// was Apollo's only reply. Zardon overheard, sighed, and continued. //Inthalla, Chief of Child Health?// //Present, Zardon.// //Kestal, Chief of Industry?// //Present, sir.// And so it went, though both Councils and the other fighters. When the roll-call was complete, Apollo spoke. //Excuse me, people.// //Yes, Captain, what is it?// Zardon asked. //Could we kindly attend to business? While we play at etiquette games, with all due respect, Iblis is torturing my father!// Apollo subsided with a barely-suppressed whimper. //Yes. We apologize for the delay, Captain. We shall indeed attend to business.// He went silent, formulating his thoughts, then telepathed again. //We discussed the Situation. We unanimously voted and agreed on Iblis' punishment. He has gone too far. He has made himself known throughout the cosmos; every planet has a name for he who symbolizes the ultimate evil. Iblis must be halted, stripped of his powers. We must banish him forever to the Cage and destroy the Key. I urge us to fight our best! The Universe depends upon our success. Let us not fail!// Zardon nodded, and the minds of Ar'kinlans and Time Lords melded into one and focused on Apollo. //Can you handle the strain, my son?// Ari enquired. //I think so...you prepared me well...// Nevertheless, Apollo gasped, finding his mind filled with incredible, unhuman sensations. //Lords, so much power...!// //This could kill him, Zardon!// the Doctor warned. //Do not withdraw. He must be the Focus.// //Lord, is the Doctor correct?// Ari asked of her leader. //Could Apollo die?// *//MY SON WILL NOT DIE.//* The Doctor nearly jumped out of Apollo's mind. //Zardon! Who was that?!// *//I AM THE GODDESS, GUARDIAN OF THE AR'KINLANS AND GALLIFREYANS.//* Ari quickly explained to the stunned Apollo. //She is, as she says, our guardian. She is not God, but she has evolved considerably beyond us.// //I...see?// *//THE HUMAN OF MY BLOODLINE WILL NOT DIE.//* /Her Bloodline?/ thought Ari. /Adama must be directly descended from one of the Lords of Kobol, her Children. No wonder he and Apollo have such latent power. No wonder Iblis so fears them!/ *//THOU ART CORRECT//* the Goddess sent to her. Then, to the group in general, she rumbled, *//STOP TALKING, PEOPLE. CONCENTRATE. I AM WITH THEE.//* A warm, gentle strength seeped into all their minds as the Goddess made her presence known. Apollo felt her come to him and begin to alter his molecular structure, rebalancing his metabolism to release his hidden power. Upon completion, she withdrew to observe. The Apollo-being briefly boggled at his cosmic view, then reached out into the void. //Iblis-renegade!// the collective voice called. //Evil One, we challenge you! The Time of Reckoning has come!// Laughter, cruel and harsh, manifested itself as Iblis' astral image appeared before them. //Iblis-renegade: we, the Free Seekers of Truth, Ar'kinlan and Gallifreyan, charge you with willfully breaking our laws, harming sentient life, and spreading evil through the Cosmos. You must be punished!// Again that laughter, mocking and degrading. Iblis grinned at his accusers... The vicious demon with red, burning eyes was there, snarling, in place of his humanoid form. //Look upon me, scum, and then boast of your courage!// //You will fall, Renegade. Do not doubt that your time is at hand.// //Prove your bold words!// Iblis flung a bolt of energy at the entity standing before him. Apollo gasped, feeling as if he was burning up in the diabolical Hellfire. //No...YOU WILL FALL!// he cried, and the collective minds struck back. Iblis reeled in turn. /Adama stood in the darkness, listening with his mind. There was a power surge of awesome strength out there nearby; space vibrated with its energy. He reached out, no longer entirely isolated. The energy was breaking down the barriers. /Must be free, help them fight. I can't not be involved./ He caught hold of a fragment of chaotic energy and held on. //Can you hear me? Can you feel where I am?// / Apollo paused, distracted by the familiarity of the mind he'd felt touch his. //Father?// he asked. //Lords, yes, I do hear you!// //Impossible!// snarled Iblis. //He is _not_ escaping my power!// //Tell _him_ that!// Apollo shot back. He reached out again, but almost withdrew. The "taste" ofthe mind frightened him, full of shadow and coldness, someone who'd been walking too long on the edge. What would be the cost of this whole Situation? Would Adama even be the same man he'd known? /The Commander let the power fill his mind, his being. /This is better. No more fear. Freedom! I will be free of this./ Jakarla surveyed the mindscape. It was changing under the influence of the chaos outside. She couldn't see Adama in the darkness, darkness that wasn't being generated all in her own favor. //The battle has begun// she announced. //It will be amusing to observe the outcome.// Adama spoke from nearby. //You'll lose.// //Indeed? I won't be fighting. That's Iblis' game out there.// To overcome her creeping nervousness, she boasted at full power. //But...if your comrades do win, know that I'll hunt them for as long as they exist. I'm rather difficult to get rid of. In fact, I'm as persistent as the whole Cylon Empire.// She savored the thought with a predatory smile upon her lips. Yet the Situation was getting out of her control. Adama took a step out of the darkness, staring into her eyes. He was in shadow, but his eyes were glowing. Jakarla stood her ground, but he laughed, a low, almost mocking laugh, upon seeing her know something like fear. //No. Now you're learning _my_ tricks. You'd best stop that.// //I don't think so.// //You _are_ a challenge// she reflected. //If you won't break, even after all this, I'll kill you or take your soul anyway. Why do you continue to fight?// //Oh, I think you _did_ break me; you just won't get what you hoped from it.// He seemed unaccountably amused by the thought, but then growled, //I can't stop fighting until I die! I was born a Warrior!// //Do you willingly take this path before you now, then? You must know what it means.// He grinned dangerously. //Freedom is worth the price. Maybe I'm stronger than you suspected!// //It's possible, human, if you wish to become what you've fought. You're a Goddess-descendant who has chosen to ignore your power for all this time, and now that you accept it, you walk _my_ path.// She laughed. //I like the irony.// //Blame yourself. You've done to me here what a lifetime of war didn't manage, and you will _stop now_. I have had enough, and I _will_ be free of you!// //I do as I please, human, and I win.// //Then you must be stopped, as Iblis will be. I will not give you the satisfaction of surrendering!// He tapped into the masses of flowing energy, plus something within himself that he had long-denied, at least in conscious use, and gathered it. A wind was blowing, a psi-storm manifesting. He gave in to the darkness and let the berserker take control. It laughed. //Die!// //No!// Ari burst out. //What is he _doing_? I said, don't fight them alone!// The force of telepathic rage erupted, flung headlong at Jakarla. She recoiled, lost her balance for a moment, lost control, as it crashed into her shields. //You dared...!// she spat. //You actually _did_ it!// //Yes, I dare!// he roared back. //And I am _leaving_!// Adama projected himself OUT as strongly as he could feel it, out of the darkness and unreality, towards the Ar'kinlan light. There came a howl from behind him, like an animal. //The Squad Leader does not LOSE!// She was after him. //No more games!// she called. //Forget Iblis' plan - you are dead! Your power is nothing against mine!// Jakarla struck back. A psychic mind-blast of sheer focused demonic rage floored Adama before he could stop it, and he held on to his head, howling into the storm of chaos. //I have had enough of you// Jakarla told him, glaring down into his eyes. //Let's end it. Get back in your body so I can deal with you properly.// She shoved him, hard.../ ...Adama awoke, panting and staring wildly. Moving his head hurt, and Lords, he was weak and not up to this... He clutched his skull, thinking it might explode with a telepathic migraine. The psi-stress had his nose bleeding. He knew he must look a terrible sight, but didn't care. He also noticed that someone had unchained him while he'd been unconscious. Maybe he could act on that... "You're back!" Sebastian noted in surprise. "Did you do that yourself?" "I...I don't know; it's all a mess. I can't think worth a frack... Where is this? Never mind, just let me go!" "Commander, I can't do that." "You will!" His eyes focused on Sebastian in a glare that made the doctor back away. "No," spoke Jakarla's cold voice. "Sebastian, leave." Sebastian looked askance at his enraged, seething Squad Leader. "Good idea. I'm gone." He stepped out quickly. Adama pulled himself to his feet, shivered, and glared back at her. "All right, so deal with me." "Oh, yes." "Then try it." Suddenly he came after her, but she was fast, and he was still dazed. Jakarla caught hold of him and slammed him into the bulkhead, cracking his head against it. She grinned viciously into his face and reflected, "There are things I could've done, had Iblis permitted me...but no. Making you my vampiric child, like Sebastian, would surely have amused me..." "God, no!" Adama objected in horror. "No," she agreed. "It seems a shame to let blood go to waste, but I'm out of patience with this game. I can always come back and do it to Apollo later." "Stay away from us!" Adama snarled, trying to break her hold. "No," Jakarla sneered, shoving him back against the bulkhead. "Now, you may be strong in the telepathic realm, old Warrior, but you are still human. You cannot match me here." "So," he gasped, "I'm supposed to make it easy for you. Frack you, no." "No, you're just supposed to die." She snarled, extended her hand with her fingers like claws, and made a wrenching gesture. Adama doubled over in pain. Oh, this is bad, he realized. Telekinesis. I'm dead. He fell onto his knees, retching, as her power wreaked havoc on his system. There was a strange roaring in his mind, his ears, he couldn't shut it out, was choking on his own blood; he tried to find the power he had wielded against her moments before, but couldn't breathe... I can't do this anymore... He had time to regret that his performance would have disappointed Elspeth, and he didn't want to leave Ari; however, the darkness was closing in again, and he simply had no more strength. Jakarla took a deep breath and relaxed with a harsh laugh as the Commander collapsed onto the deck. She'd had enough of the entire Situation. Teleporting to one of the battlecruiser's shuttles with Adama, she left him aboard it, launched it, and teleported back to her ship, somewhat surprising a bridge crewman. "That shuttle is for Galactica to find. I have things to do before we leave." "Leave? During this?" "Leave, yes. Need I explain why to you?" She stormed out, deciding that she was going to thrash Sebastian for having released Adama as she had, as if he'd wanted her to be attacked... Apollo knew what had happened. "Lords...no..." he whispered, and choked back a sob that distracted his effort. Iblis was not as pleased as would be suspected. Indeed, he howled with rage as his intricate plan backfired in his face. //I told her, and she still disobeyed! Jakarla, you little brat, I'm going to kill you!// Ari's mind spun agonizingly, and she began to lose her connection with the gestalt. //He's gone...but...Zardon, someone, please help!// //You _stay_ with us, Ari!// Inthalla insisted. //I am there! Join me!// Ar'kinlan light distracted Adama. Was that possible? Had destiny decided it was not entirely ready for him yet? //Commander! Do you hear me?// //What?!// Adama stared in confusion at the bizarre, glowingly white surroundings. A woman was with him, silvery-blonde hair and blue eyes suggesting Ar'kinlan nature. Hers was a gentle countenance, matronly - trustworthy, if only he could believe his senses. He no longer could, not after the mind-bending torture he'd been through. //I am Inthalla! You have nothing to fear from me!// Another woman joined her, a younger blonde, reaching out with worry...and he knew her well, but with a sense of despair, could do nothing but warn her. //Please - stay away! I've got no self-control left and could hurt you...// //We are here to help you, love.// Ari assured him. The completely lost look in his eyes almost made her cry. //Take my hand. Just do that much...// //I...Lords, this is bad...I just _died_...// //Do you want to return?// Ari found it took considerable nerve to ask him that. If he didn't...she didn't want to think what it might do to her. //If you do, please...let us help.// It seemed to take all his courage, but he reached out to her and she took his hands in hers. As Ari's love and light came back to him, the exhausted Adama almost fell over. Inthalla also reached out to him, gently grasped his shoulder, and sent //Rest easy, dear. We can both help you if you'll allow it.// A sense of sanity and stability began to remanifest itself in Adama's reelingly beleaguered consciousness, but even for healing purposes, he couldn't handle more interference with his mind. His brain calmly decided to close up shop and he collapsed in an undignified heap into their arms. //Oh...I am sorry...// Inthalla murmured, and helped Ari gently lay him down. //Ari, I could not let what happened to my Chai happen to yours. I was determined to save you both.// Kneeling by Adama, Ari looked up at her mother-in-spirit. //Thank you. Do you think he'll stay?// //I believe he shall recover. The situation is...complicated, of course. We shall find a solution. Now...I know you would prefer to stay here, Ari, but we must go back to fight. Can you do that for me?// //Yes.// Ari's answer was reluctant, but they would return when the battle was concluded...assuming it ended favorably for them. //If it doesn't...I loved you, Adama.// She sighed. //Oh, Goddess...give us strength.// Ari stood, took Inthalla's hand. Inthalla smiled at her. Sending themselves back into a trance, they re-melded with the gestalt and were back in the starry depths of space. Zardon gave an exultant laugh. //We have him!// he announced. //Iblis has lost that soul!// //How _dare_ you!// Iblis shouted. //I shall destroy you for this!// He threw his power at them in all his savage rage. Apollo nearly fell, sensing something to telekinetic shredding, as if every bone in his body was cracking. But he didn't quite have a body at present. He fought the hallucination desperately, having seen how effective such an attack could be... Jakarla growled furiously under her breath, cursing inventively. It wasn't that she cared about mangling Iblis' plan, but she had somehow overlooked that the Commander would be rescued by Ar'kinlans; she'd suspected that nothing much coherent remained of his psi-self after the battering it had taken. Wrong. /The Squad Leader does not lose/, she repeated. /Lesser beings lose. I win./ She snarled. /But those pacifistic worms handled him more easily than I could. Damn everything in this entire stinking quadrant of space. Let me have just a little petty satisfaction.../ Fenris stalked onto the stray ship that had appeared on scanner, blaster ready, fur on-edge, wearing an oxygen mask just in case. /Air's all right/, he noted, pulling it off. /Need to get a scent. Eh, that's not good./ He shivered, nose knowing. He dashed forward and ended up kneeling by a sprawled human on the deck, feeling for life signs. "Frack," he growled, ears pulled back angrily. "Karlani," he called into his comlink, "I need you and Cassiopea in here for an emergency." In moments, both the Hellraiser and the GALACTICA medic joined him. "Oh no. It's the Commander!" Kneeling by him, Cassiopea grabbed her medscanner. "What did they do to him?" "Looks like telekinesis used as a weapon," said Karlani grimly. "You've seen that happen before?" Cassiopea asked, appalled by the idea that anyone could cause this extent of internal damage with the power of his or her mind. "Unfortunately," Fenris replied. "It was probably Jakarla," added Karlani. Cassiopea gulped slightly and wished she hadn't asked. She shook her head. "He...didn't make it," she whispered. "Wait," Karlani advised. "I'm not certain of that." "He's about as medically dead as it's possible to be," Cassiopea replied, downcast. "But..." Karlani stared out at space, distracted, focused on something not physically visible. "No, the Ar'kinlans have him, I know it. I feel him...not in his body, but he's there." "What?" asked the blonde medic, bewildered. "What do you mean they have him? He's...gone." She blinked back tears. "There are no life signs. Nothing." To distract herself, she tried to wrap her mind around the concept Karlani had brought up, although it was far beyond her day-to-day understanding. "But you say he's there?" "The Commander survived. What made him who he _is_ - mind, soul, lifeforce, whatever term you know best - survived. That's beyond the body. The Ar'kinlans will do something to bring him back, if he wishes." "I don't understand." Cassie shook her head, staring at the alien. "_If_...?" "Yes. He may choose otherwise." "Oh, I don't like the sound of that..." "Cassiopea, life delights in being unpredictable." Karlani gave Cassie a quick grin. "What I would like to do is take him back to GALACTICA. I know it makes little sense to you, but get him to Life Center. I will stay and meditate, and perhaps convince him to return, to stay in this life. That may help. I will do what I can." Cassie considered for a moment, then nodded. "We need him. He should know that, and decide accordingly." /But what if he decides not to?/ She didn't want to think about that. Daniel and Dori paced in concert aboard GALACTICA. They were too fascinated by watching the battle, and too nervous to stay in Jolene's TARDIS. Never ones to obey orders, they didn't realize they had deserted safety. Boxey was with them; Oolini had left him temporarily in the twins' care, while she went to recover from her flight. A bad feeling came over them. They turned in unison. A grinning woman in black stood at the door. "Holy..." gasped Daniel. "She doesn't look holy to me, Dan," muttered Dori. "I'm not! I'm Jakarla!" That seemed to sum it up very nicely. She pointed at Boxey and leered. "Give me the child." Dori pulled Boxey closer. "He's with us," she explained. "We can't give him to you." "Oh, I think you can." Daniel stepped forward. "What do you want with him?" "Humans are queasy. You would not wish to know." "Kill him, right? Lady, get the hell out of here. What's he done to you?" "He's a bloody nuisance and I want the little brat. Hand him over." "We can't," insisted Daniel. "If you like murder so much, kill _me_," he dared. "Oh, how delightful, actually being _invited_..." She caught Daniel by the shoulders before he could move out of her way. "Thank you, human. I need a little snack." Her hands and eyes began to glow; Daniel gasped in protest. Her flaming eyes seemed to swallow his soul. He was therefore unaware of aging to death unto the verge of decay, as his lifeforce was literally eaten. Jakarla brushed the resulting dust off her hands and uniform and grinned devilishly. "That 'tasted' good!" "Oh my God! Daniel... You're a psychic vampire!" yelled Dori, backing away, shielding Boxey behind her. "Oh, that's only the beginning of what I am. And your gods can't help you now." Jakarla raised her hand. The last thing the human saw was a very nasty ball of Hellfire sailing at her... Boxey yowled as his protector made a precipitous departure from existence, vaporizing as if she'd never been. "And now you're mine..." "No!" cried a familiar voice. Oolini made an unexpected entrance, as Cinnabar, accompanying her, picked up Boxey and ran like hell. "I fear my arrival was badly timed..." she realized. "But you got the child. I grow tired of being interfered with. You, Oolini - Iblis wants you!" With this frustrated shout, Jakarla literally flung Oolini's astral self out into the battle. "You want to interfere, get out there and _fight_!" Dazed by the violence of her arrival, Oolini stared blankly at the scene of combat. As her stunned mind cleared, she saw that Apollo was, at this point, overwhelmed. Iblis was striking hard and fast. The ex-princess saw the Evil One ready another attack, and came to a final decision. /I helped the beast get this far. I'm no innocent. Let me receive my punishment, then. I shall be helping Apollo in this./ Oolini allowed a brief moment of reflection: her planet; her royal family; her beloved...and the reason she had served Iblis. That charming demon had tricked her and her love. When he was through, only her becoming the consort of the Evil One had saved her people. /Much good it did ...I shall never see them again now. I don't believe I ever thought I would./ She took a deep yet shaky breath, centered herself...and when Iblis fired again, Oolini leaped out before him. She smiled at Apollo the instant before she was hit. The power consumed her. Apollo stared in horror. Iblis, startled, recovered and laughed, pleased to be rid of his wayward slave. A great, righteous rage grew within Apollo and those he acted for, and his strength returned with a vengeance. //We have had enough of you, Renegade!// A shocking onslaught accompanied these words. Iblis could not stand against it. "Enough of this," decided Jakarla. She flipped on the communicator, not deigning to telepath to the one she'd speak to. "Baltar, this is Squad Leader Jakarla." "I hear you, Black Squadron. Do you have advice?" "I know what you're thinking, Baltar, and you can stop now. There is no way a laser attack is going to have any effect on a psi-battle. Hades, what a stupid thought!" "Oh, forgive me!" he snapped back, proving it would be a lovely partnership. "I'm not exactly used to this!" "No, you wouldn't be, would you. All right, Baltar. I'm leaving - running out. My advice is this: if you want to survive, you'll follow. Otherwise, _they'll_ have you. Think on that." "I'll follow, Squad Leader." "Good for you. Prepare to pull out." Boxey stared at his Rendelmarian rescuer in astonishment as she introduced herself. "Wow. What are _you_?" Cinnabar smiled, careful not to display too many teeth. "A Hellraiser, in more ways than one. You may call me Cinnabar, my dear." "You look like a big...daggit. In, uh, human form." "I think lupus, or wolf, is more accurate in my case," she corrected with amusement. "_You_ don't want to eat me, do you?" Boxey asked nervously, voice beginning to shake. "Oh, frack, no," Cinnabar growled in disgust. "I am _not_ the Big, Bad Wolf." "What?" "Pardon." Cinnabar shook her head. "I seem to have quoted the wrong planet's mythology. How are you doing, child?" "I don't know. Am I safe yet? Are any more demons coming for me?" "I cannot truly say, Boxey, but I will protect you." "Oolini?" "She...she was brave, Boxey. She resisted her captivity to rescue you. Remember her well." Boxey sniffled and tried to stop himself. "I'm sorry...Warriors shouldn't cry." "That is, as your people say, 'felgercarb', my lad," came the gruff reply. "Let me get you home." The end was near. Iblis was not having a good time of it. //Final judgement is being prepared!// announced Apollo, with the force of alien minds behind him. Iblis laughed, but with a touch of hysteria and no assurance whatever. He knew he was lost - but then, he always had been bright... Aware of his allies observing this last, great battle, he disposed of his arrogant composure and howled //JAKARLA! JOIN ME!// Jakarla smirked. //You jest, 'Lord'// she sent. //You wanted to handle this by yourself!// //You obnoxious little animal!// Iblis screamed. //And where did I get that trait from, Sire? I no longer care about this!// She turned to an officer. "Helmsman, take us away from here." "But, Lady, what of the Count?" "What of him? He has no chance. Neither will we if we stay! I don't care what is done to him, but I don't wish them to do it to _me_. And if you wish to live, you'll pull us out of here - _now!_" "Yes, Squad Leader!" replied the instantly-convinced helmsman, turning back to his console. Iblis stared with something genuinely approaching horror, as his daughter's battlecruiser withdrew from parking orbit and blasted away through the stars. //You can't do this!// He realized that Baltar's basestar had followed Black Squadron. Unable to imagine his warrior daughter capable of tolerating the feeble human, he concluded //Impossible! You have made a mess of everything. I will kill you, girl!// //Indeed? Then this is your farewell present!// Iblis gasped at the psi-attack that struck him from even that direction. He attempted to shield himself from it, but the vampiric-feeding aspect sucked his energy from him. //Release me and go, then, damn you! Thank you for showing me your allegiance!// //That was always to myself, Father. Good riddance!// Jakarla's presence faded from his mind, as did awareness of their ship's location. //You are deserted!// The Apollo-being confirmed his realization. //Do you still consider yourself able to stand against us?// //Giving me another chance?// Iblis snarled, and laughed again. //You forget, trapped and wounded animals are always the most dangerous!// He attacked once more, desperate, unbalanced, and fading. The entire legion of Ar'kinlans and Gallifreyans struck back, channeled through Apollo. Iblis, confidence shaken and power waning, reeled. //Iblis!// exclaimed Testaria's voice. She had realized the way to truly defeat him. //I know best what you fear. And I can wield it to make you weak!// //You?// he laughed. //You are nothing!// //No, I don't think so, my dear! You fear the best of Ar'kinla - love! Yes, you 'kinetically assaulted me, yet you could not break the link! Chai is from the Goddess, and you are not in her class! So I give you love and compassion now!// Risking her sanity, she braved entering the charnel pit of Iblis' corrupted soul, and struck him with an unusual mindblast: a relentless attack of love that for a moment so staggered Iblis, he recalled what he had been all those thousands of yahrens ago, when he was still capable of loving creation instead of corrupting it. What might have been. He screamed in horror at the thought. /Ah yes, Testaria/, Zardon mused, /thank you./ //Look upon me, brother!// his resonant voice commanded. //And your sister!// added Selafla. //Or are you too shamed? We still love, after all, and thus do we have revenge! We resist you without fear, without hatred. There is none of that for you to use against us.// In turn, the Council assaulted Iblis with all the love his erstwhile old friends were capable of. They were the Elders, led by the eldest living Ar'kinlan, and "all they were capable of" was an immensity beyond description. Iblis could not fight this, for it repelled him to think of it. They knew then that he was defeated. //Banish him now!// Zardon commanded. The Cage opened, as insistent as a black hole. The Key appeared in Apollo's fingers. //It calls you, Iblis...// //NO!// the Count cried in real terror. //I shall not go!// //GO!// intoned a single awesome voice. Iblis stood alone, reduced to a shadow of himself. As his power faded, so did his relative youth. The nebula was consuming the ancient Ar'kinlan, and he could no longer fight it. His prison had him once more. This time, there would be no leniency, no chance of freedom. He was eons old, and felt every day of it... Apollo lifted the Key; it burned with an eerie cosmic flame. He spoke judgement in a voice not his own, in a language he would no longer understand when he was once again himself. The Words of Power flowed forth...and he threw the Key into the nebula. The Universe seemed rent by an enormous explosion, which yet could not drown out the last, anguished scream from the Lord of Darkness. Then there was silence. Reality hesitatingly trickled and oozed back into existence. Apollo felt it as he awakened in a white, shining chamber. "Oh, Lords, my brain aches..." A gentle hand touched his shoulder. "Relax," Ari suggested. "It was quite a battle." The Captain blinked, slowly sat up. "Wha...?" He looked about. "We're aboard...?" "Yes. 'The Ship of Lights'." His eyes surveyed the surrealistic setting, observing his various comrades-in-arms nearby. Assorted Elders lurked in the misty background. "So...we won?" Apollo realized blearily. "We have," affirmed Ari. "Iblis may regain strength someday, but he's not likely to break out - not in our lengthy lifetimes, at least." "Good..." The Doctor stepped forward, abruptly flashing a grin full of startling teeth. "You also accomplished something else, Captain. With Iblis' banishment, the ancient rivalry between Gallifrey and Ar'kinla has been put to rest. There is no logic in rejecting one another." "I doubted I would ever see that occur," admitted Shannon. "Skeptic," Jolene commented. "What..." Apollo stumbled. "What about my father?" Zardon spoke at last. "His spirit is powerful, but his body wasn't a match for it. Physically, he 'died'." Apollo nearly choked. "I thought I felt that, but...no..." "You will find it confusing, but we shall try to remedy that. Follow." Apollo shakily arose, aided by Ari, and trailed the Ar'kinlan leader, who led the group to another chamber. The Ar'kinlan gestured through the mist. "We have him with us." Apollo went to the man lying nearby on a sort of pedestal. It confused him more. He _was_ Adama, certainly, yet...? Not only was the tension on his rugged features eased, but he appeared considerably younger, as well. His hair was dark, despite gray running through it; more restrained than Apollo's disheveled locks, yet longer than he had been currently known to wear it. "What?" Apollo muttered again, unable to help casting a glance at Zardon. "This craft - the Ship of Lights, as you call it - is a telepathic construct," revealed Zardon patiently. "Aboard it, one is in the astral plane. You are in your...soul-self, as is everybody here. I told you, Adama's spirit is strong; it has outlasted his body, which was overcome by the ordeal. We rescued him and he is here now, waiting. But we cannot revive his body, the way we once did for you." "Yes, I remember now." "The memory block is no longer necessary, Captain. You remember because you are closer to us than before." "But are you saying my father's...dead?" "Physically, in your limited erms. Otherwise, certainly not. We cannot return his present self, because he was not personally killed by Iblis, and I fear that Jakarla has proven to be outside our Law entirely. But we can..." Zardon paused, glanced at the Doctor. "We can _regenerate_ him, in the Time Lord fashion." Shannon gave a long, low, bewildered whistle. Zardon continued. "It will be difficult. Whatever our power, we have never regenerated the way Gallifreyans do. Zellandra?" "What, Lord?" asked Zellie, automatically. "If you would help...?" "What? _How_?" "Adama is kin to the Goddess, so she must execute this - but a Focus is needed." Zellie's eyes went as large as Viper engine nacelles. "You must be joking, Lord." //I am not!// he stressed in pure telepathic Ar'kinlan. //Thou art a genetic engineer, milady!// //I am not an Elder!// she protested in the same way. //If thou wouldst cease protesting authority for _just_ a micron?! Thy parents were engineers. They trained thee well, but thy ability goes far beyond that! Who is the one who has been known for genetic practical jokes, hmm? If that does not convince thee, perhaps moral blackmail shall. Thou art a warrior-born. A freelance warrior, who chooses her own leader. Thou hast chosen Adama, I know, so please stop fighting me! Thou art thus bound to help him in whatever way possible. As well, he is the Chai of thy closest friend. Dost thou wish to jeopardize his soul, and hers as well?// //All right!// Zellie cut into his flow. //Please. I will try.// //You will not be without help// Zardon assured her, relaxing in manner and form of address. Zellie grimaced unkindly at him and stepped up to Adama. She closed her eyes and slowly relaxed into a trance. Zardon had joined with the Council, and this super-gestalt reached out in to support Zellie and call upon their Goddess. Zellie mentally smiled when she realized that Ari had also joined her. The warmth of her old friend's soul was comforting and strengthening; if nothing else, the moral support was wonderful. *//YES, I HEAR THEE, CHILDREN//* assured the same strong, female voice they had heard before the battle. Apollo gaped at the mental impression he received. Flowing blue hair, large purple-gray eyes filled with the galaxy's stars. A ghostly form wearing humanoid shape, yet indescribably cosmic. /Am I hallucinating?/ Apollo wondered. Confusion still reigned in his poor, distressed mind, and he hoped his brain would do him the courtesy of returning from its furlon. *//RELAX, MY SON//* counseled a gently amused voice. The Captain blinked and shook his head, wondering...? /No...that couldn't be.../ The glow aboardship increased until the observers needed to close their eyes. But the light still glowed through their minds. The eerie being that was more than Zellandra laid hands on the Commander and began a strange genetic manipulation. With the Goddess' knowledge of the sequence that triggered regeneration, she temporarily altered and mutated his DNA structure to activate that peculiar transformation. Upon conclusion, she returned his genetic makeup to its normal (for a Goddess-descendant) human form. The light steadily faded while he changed, then was gone, leaving...someone else...in his place. Slowly, the team returned to themselves. "Wow, what a trip..." an awed Zellie whispered, and nearly collapsed. Apollo steadied her. Ari bent over her Chai. "Adama?" she queried, stroking his hair. "Hello?" Adama blinked, let out a groan. "Ohhh...what a weird dream..." He focused on his companion. "Ari?" He grinned at her and, as he sat up, they embraced joyfully, relieved to be reunited. Then he looked about the place in some bewilderment...and everyone stared at _him_. And now for something completely different. This man was certainly Adama, but indeed regenerated as the Doctor would have done. He stood about the same height and build, but was apparently near forty-five - fifty yahrens, with thick, sandy hair that recalcitrantly fell into his dark blue eyes. "She made you look Ar'kinlan..." the Doctor sighed. "What?" Adama swept a hand through his hair and grinned suddenly. "It wasn't a dream?" He blinked. "What exactly do I look like now?" he wondered. He was shown. Seeing this new image, his verdict was "Interesting." Lying back again, with a hand on his head, he muttered, "Excuse me, am I burbling? I only just woke up..." "Father...?" asked Apollo weakly. "Yes, I seem to be Adama. Not that much older than you right now, but still your father. Bizarre..." "We have an enigma on our hands," observed Zellie, "don't we? Nice-looking, though..." She glanced away innocently as Ari directed a teasing glare her way. //Don't you dare...!// //Wouldn't dream of it. Starbuck's all I can - or want to - handle anymore. Maybe.// Zellie smirked. Zardon addressed the group. "You fought well, friends." He smiled at Adama and Apollo. "Everything is not exactly as it was, but what, actually, could be? We have restored conditions as best we can. Apart from some major exceptions," he glanced at Adama again, as if to be sure of his eyes, "it will be as if Iblis did not attack. Our purpose here is done. We shall return you, as we must return to Ar'kinla." "Will we remember?" asked Apollo. "Within reason," was the Ar'kinlan's only reply. "Will we meet again?" Apollo pursued. "Anything is possible, Captain. But you will not always need the Council's help. We will know if you do. In the meantime, your young friends," he gestured at Ari and Zellie, "may keep you out of trouble. Or they may lead you into more! Farewell." Reality seemed to warp in the glowing of his eyes. The shining chamber faded from their perception... In GALACTICA's Life Center, Karlani's eyes snapped open. Startled out of her trance, she stood and stared. "Cass - come here. You won't believe what you see, but it's real." Cassie stood beside the Falconian; both sensed an eerie golden glow, although it was more within Karlani's actual range of vision. "The Commander...what?!" "They chose regeneration. Time Lords do this." Surrealistically, Adama began to literally change before their eyes. The old Warrior turned into a stranger...but not entirely. Cassie thought she could still recognize him, in ways. Cassie wondered where her sanity had gone in the last few centars. The pressure...that had to be it. She closed her eyes, looked again. Still real. Fifteen to twenty yahrens younger, and blond. A slight chuckle escaped her; from Karlani's glance, it might have been a touch hysterical. She breathed deeply. /Think reasonably!/ "You said...Time Lords do this. Is he still human?" "I think so. Actually, he could be...half-Ar'kinlan?" Karlani sighed. "I hate explanations," she added, shrugging. They were interrupted by a groan, and quickly stared at the blond "stranger." His eyes opened to stare at the ceiling. Blinking, he raised a hand to his head. "Commander?" asked Cassie. "Yes," he muttered. "Battle's over. We're all alive." "You weren't," Cassie declared, "when we found you." "I am now. Unique what they did...I feel more than human. Such energy. But something of a headache!" Adama sat up and stared intently. Blue eyes, but there was still the hint of the fierce brown-eyed command stare. In fact, it was more startling; before, people had imagined a glare of that power to be blue-eyed, and now it truly was. Cassie felt hypnotized, then blinked and looked down. "Life Center?" Adama noted. "May I discharge myself?" "Always one frack of a cooperative patient!" Cassie noted with a laugh. "You died, sir. I think I should keep you here to be sure..." "That I'm not dead now?? Look at me, please." She did; Adama grinned gently at her. "I feel better than I have in yahrens. Perhaps the best in my entire life. But," he added with a sigh, "for Sagan's sake, Cassiopea, give me my uniform. Or a robe. Staying here is undignified." "So is your hair," she teased. "Yes, I'd noticed. I won't be able to see with this falling in my face." He sighed, then directed his unnerving stare at her. "Sir...you're Commander, but Salik could overrule you, you know..." "He's not here. I don't want to be, no offense to you." Grinning wickedly, he suddenly hopped onto the deck, pulling the blanket with him and wrapping it about him like a toga. "Decidedly not regulation, but interesting." Karlani snorted. Cassie stared sidelong at Adama's quirky humor. "Would you like a psych checkup, as well...?" She sighed. "You look and act fine. I'd probably have to tie you down to check, and that would be undignified." At that moment, several very tired beings wandered into Life Center. They all looked as if they needed someone to hold them up, though Starbuck had only enough hands for Zellie (in more ways than one). Apollo yawned enormously, then suddenly his eyes shot open. "Father?!" "Indeed. Hello. Pardon my appearance." Ari sat down and grinned lazily at him. "Not a chance. You look...mmm..." She chuckled, then glared at him. "I know what you're thinking - don't you dare cut your hair. Meet a few Ar'kinlans and you'll see a taste for long hair." "But this looks weird, my dear." "No," she yawned. "Just looks like Starbuck. Or David Auriga. You'll get used to it." "Will I also get used to being _blond_ for the first time in my life?!" "Nothing wrong with blond," Ari replied. Apollo slowly sank down onto the deck. "Someone...get me to my quarters...think I'm gonna sleep for days..." "So'm I," muttered Zellie. "We all need it," Ari agreed. "Then there'll be time for explanations." "Ohh, noo..." moaned Karlani. "Please, later!" "Later," Ari conceded, and chuckled as Apollo's quiet snores wafted up from Life Center's deck. "_What_ is going on?" Athena asked, sitting up slowly and staring around herself in astonishment. "Later," repeated Karlani. "_Much_ later. I have such a headache..." Adama met with Tigh and Omega, grasped Tigh's hands, and grinned. "Yes, I know how I look. I know it makes no sense." "Nothing else has made sense lately," Tigh noted with a wry smile. "Why should this? Seriously, Commander, I'm just glad you survived." "Yes. Tigh...I've heard that you and Omega did well in my absence. I wouldn't have expected otherwise, but I'm proud of you both." "Thank you, sir," Tigh replied. Omega echoed him, breaking into a grin. Tigh sneezed, somewhat breaking the mood. "Oops. Sorry, sir." The Commander, mercifully, had no memory of his surrealistic journey. "Apart from being spacejacked," he reflected, "it's gone. What did happen?" "Very likely all your worst combat nightmares multiplied several times," Ari told him. "Please don't ask further..." Adama gave her a look, reflected on some of his worse dreams, and Jakarla's nature as the self-titled "Mistress of Nightmares," and chose to leave it at that. Some details were better off not learning. Instead, he found himself staring into a mirror. Ari noticed his doubletake and confused mutter. "What? Don't you like it?" she grinned. "I'm...getting used to it," Adama conceded. "But the majority of the Fleet won't. Maybe the Warriors can take this, but not the civilians. If I can ever show myself to them again, I have to look the way I did before. They might let their superstitions get out of control." "You have that little faith in them?" "Ari, humans can always backslide into believing in the horrors of witchcraft or whatever they wish to blame. Alien infiltration, perhaps? Actually, that wouldn't be too far off the mark." "You consider us alien invaders, Adama?" Ari looked taken aback. "Thank you very much." "Think as they would. I had a dream before this started, and I pray it's not a harbinger of things to come, now that this has happened. Jakarla came to take over the Fleet, and the people believed all she said against me." "It's not going to happen, Adama!" protested Ari. "We won't let it." Adama brooded for a moment. "Anyway. I could've sworn that I saw myself as I used to be, when I looked at my reflection. Is that possible?" "Interesting. I've wondered what Time Lords - say, the Doctor - see when they look in mirrors. Is it always their present self, or sometimes previous personae?" "Confusing. Ari...you need to teach me how to telepathically change my appearance if necessary. I want to appear to the people as I used to be, and keep this aboard GALACTICA. It would just get completely out of hand if anyone else knew." Ari sighed. "I'll do that, then. But you know gossip - it travels at lightspeed." A marathon siege of explanations soon exploded forth, and not a few minds reeled in the aftermath. It was no wonder the Hellraisers preferred to steer away from such discourse, if not fly completely out of the galaxy to avoid it. Trying to explain regeneration was a mind-bending experience, especially the way in which it had been accomplished. The crew decided it might just be better to simply accept Adama's odd change than struggle through a centar-long lecture. It wasn't a joke, to be sure. Watching him proved that - the same personality (if a little jauntier and weirder) still asserted itself through what otherwise looked mostly like a stranger. It was truly strange, but Adama grew to quite like it, after all. Despite Adama's purposeful memory lapse, they remembered the battle well enough, though Apollo could not remember the feeling of the power he had wielded as Focus. "Probably wise of them," he realized. His mind, though keen, was untrained in psi-discipline; they could not risk the possibility of power-lust taking command. A power as cosmic as that had been could well have twisted anyone. Jolene had learned of her companions' fate from Cinnabar; she found it difficult to accept, but did reconcile it. Locking an emotional reaction into the back of her mind (as was the Time Lord skill), her outward reaction, when offered reassurance, was a quiet, "They always knew the danger - they enjoyed it. I warned them to stay in my Ship. I don't think Iblis himself could have broken in." However, the Agro Ship had been restored, and the Warriors injured during Iblis' attacks were recuperating nicely, with some extra help from Karlani. The explanations were not all on the side of those who had been with the Ar'kinlans, however. Adama very much wanted to know why half the crew had now come down with sneezing, congested nasal problems, with uniform pockets stuffed full of tissues. An annoyed Tigh blew his nose with a vengeance and explained, "Sheba, blasd id, forgod Decondamidation when she landed!" Adama sighed. "It's not...serious?" "Nod a plague. Nod fadal. Jusd de Common Code!" Tigh growled, tried again. "_Cold_," he managed. "Id should go away soon. Sooner de bedder, I think!" /Yes/, Adama thought mischievously, /who could take an officer seriously when he sounds like that?/ "But how did _she_ contract it?" he wondered. "Probably low humor on Iblis' part," remarked Ari. "Maybe it came through the Hellfire?" Adama shrugged and gave up. This life seemed to have become too strange for words. Tigh truly wanted to court-martial the former PEGASUS pilot for forgetting procedure, but he calmed down as soon as he could breathe clearly again... Dr. Salik finally caught up with Adama and ordered him to Life Center, somewhat against his will. "I can't quite believe my eyes. You're still _who_ you were, but _what_ are you now? I don't understand these readings," he grumbled. "They're like nothing I've seen." Adama cast him a wary glance. "I would prefer not to become anyone's medical experiment." "Understood...but, Commander, keep in mind that, in case of emergencies, the medical staff not understanding your physiology would be a _very_ bad thing. If, God forbid, I needed to perform surgery again, and we didn't understand how to help..." "You make yourself very clear, Doctor." "Good," Salik growled. "Of course," mused Adama, "Ar'kinlans are supposed to be very difficult to kill..." Salik sighed. "First, you appear to be more of a hybrid between Ar'kinlan and human, and second, I don't want you to actually be killed _again_ in order to find that out." "Well, no," Adama agreed, "neither would I." "Thank you, sir." Zellie stood before Adama and collected her thoughts, then spoke more seriously than was her wont. "Commander, I have come to a decision." "Tell me what it is, Captain." "I have always been an agent of chaos, and it's not a habit I can do much to break." She noticed his smile and grinned back. "You accept me as you find me, and that's refreshing." "Since I find that I owe you my life, in part, I'm not about to tell you to leave." "Mmm." Zellie nodded and took a deep breath. "Commander...I give you my loyalty, my allegiance, as well as my services." She snapped off an unexpected salute to him; he blinked in surprise and returned it. "I have typically sold my skills to those who want them. Somewhere along the line, this became considerably more than that. There's Starbuck...and there's you, as the partner of my oldest surviving friend." She glanced at Ari. "I've been reflecting on what Zardon said to convince me aboard the Ship of Lights, and he was right, of course. I hate to admit that he's _ever_ right, but he was." Ari chuckled. "I will defend you from harm to the best of my ability...which, even if I say so myself, is considerable. I would, in fact, act as your guard." Adama regarded her steadily. "Do you think that will be necessary?" "Yes," Zellie declared, "because Jakarla will return. There will be other things out there too dangerous to face alone." She laughed, then. "Forgive me. You're a Warrior; of course you're not naive. However, after all you went through, I think you need...perhaps some different training?" "I'm listening." "Your psi-skills are stronger now; they'll need practice. I think that you should learn what you can do in that regenerated form of yours. It might be surprising. You were granted new life for a reason, so let us teach you." A look of mock fear crossed Ari's face. "Although she did teach me how to fight, it's dangerous to spar with Zellie. I'd fear finding body parts scattered all over the deck afterward." Zellie snorted with laughter. "I haven't killed anyone in at least..." She made a show of deep thought, concluding, "...oh, a few days." "We have an idea..." Starbuck began. "We have," continued Zellie, "some Chai-partners who were rudely interrupted by Iblis' revenge-trip. I suggest that they pick up where they left off, settle down, and take advantage of our present peace!" She eyed Ari. //You _do_ want to...?// //Get on with it, friend!// Ari smiled. "Now, I haven't been at all convinced that Chai would or could happen to me. I'm not a typical Ar'kinlan, and I couldn't know if I was engineered to be capable of Chai. I don't live an appropriate life; I've no idea why the Goddess would want me to do this. However...I'm going to admit that Starbuck and I are...connected. It feels close enough to what Chai is supposed to be. I would never have thought that I'd agree to doing this..." Starbuck listened to her disclaimer and laughed. "I'll just say that I had no idea I'd want to settle down, either, but I can't resist. I'd like to stay with her." "You're going to have a Sealing Ceremony?" asked Cassiopea. She accepted that Starbuck was no longer 'hers', though she had never truly been that possessive of him. She hoped they could at least remain on friendly terms, and was pleased that Starbuck had gained the maturity to choose who he truly wanted. Athena was displeased. Though recovered from the attack and resulting coma, she didn't feel at all steady. The events that had taken place since the spacejacking of the Commander's shuttle were all mind-boggling, especially her father's change. To have awakened in the midst of everything changing and seeing _him_ completely different left her feeling utterly misplaced. On top of that, though she had thought she no longer cared to pursue Starbuck, his decision in this regard enraged her. Why couldn't _anything_ stay stable?! Demons and Hellfire were one thing, but Starbuck getting sealed was quite another; the other phenomena made a surreal sort of sense, but this was entirely outside her realm of experience! Zellie grinned wickedly. "I enjoy the thought of a giant double-Sealing Ceremony, with possibly a bit of Ar'kinlan influence, and perhaps a massive celebration afterwards. In other words - let's party!" she concluded with a wild laugh. Starbuck whooped enthusiastically. "So, I know what you think of it!" laughed Zellie. "Commander?" "That should be fairly obvious at this point." He gazed over at Apollo and Athena. "But are there objections?" Apollo grinned. "I have none." Athena briefly considered, but found no logical opposition. Ila had died so long ago now; it was good to see Adama as he had been since he'd met Ari. Though she herself had not had the opportunity to know Ari well, Apollo had, and clearly liked her, and she'd always known that her brother had good taste. "No arguments with you," she assured her father. Then suddenly her temper got the worst of her. "But maybe a few with Starbuck! It _is_ time you grew up, but _you_ - happy to marry?!" Starbuck winced. /Please don't start.../ Zellie turned to Athena, doing her best to be polite. "So there _is_ an objection. Shall we talk it over?" "Just stay away. I don't need a lecture." Zellie, feeling herself lightly seething, took Athena's arm. Athena glared at her. "Ah, but you'll get one, Lieutenant," she insisted, obnoxiously stressing her lower rank. /Even if she _is_ Adama's daughter!/ "Since you'd like to complain, let's go talk. Starbuck, come with us, hmm?" Starbuck winced. Zellie glanced over at the Commander. //I'm not going to kill her, Adama; stop cringing.// Ari giggled. Startled, Adama sent back, //I was? Sorry...// However, there was something about the exchange that, after they had entered a room to talk, caused _everyone_ to want to cringe. There seemed to be a lot of yelling, including several scathing multilingual curses, some of them Ar'kinlan. Ari prayed that Adama would never learn those...her toes curled at the sound of them, and served to prove what she'd already always known: that Zellie had no shame. It brought to mind the impression of a verbal global nuclear war, but hopefully with survivors. Zellie unleashed what appeared to be her favorite battlecry. The hatchway disintegrated. As the dust settled, the Captain stalked out, grumbling. Halting, the undisputed victor glared with eyes blazing electric blue at the witnesses, who had followed to ensure that there would be survivors. Flipping them a fierce smile, she strode off down the corridor. Adama and Apollo stared after her, in some awe. Ari called a tentative "Hello?" A nervous blond figure poked its head out. Shaking dust out of his hair, Starbuck called after Zellie and ran in the direction she'd taken. "Starbuck?!" came a yell. A bedraggled Athena emerged next, glared down the corridor. To the area in general, she exclaimed, "That certainly didn't help!" She slapped a hand against her thigh. "I guess I deserved it," she sighed. "Need to talk about it?" "Not now, Father. What I truly _need_ is a drink..." She wandered off towards the Officers' Club. Apollo joined her, chuckling slightly. That was one of the silliest fights his sister had ever been in... Adama heaved a sigh. Contemplating the mess Zellie had left in her wake, Ari gestured at it. The hatch reformed itself in several moments. "What was all that?" asked the Commander. "Oh, just Zellie's wild-child act. I usually clean up her messes," Ari laughed. "I was a handful of a child, too, but she outclassed me there, throwing tantrums and blasting inanimate objects in her path to bits. I would always follow her, fixing what she'd left behind. I remember a friend of hers having the same sort of telekinetic fits." /Tella/, she recalled sadly. /Another wild kid...another casualty of Jakarla./ Adama noticed her briefly wistful look. "What's this?" Ari shook herself out of it and laughed gently, facing the Commander and playfully bumping heads with him. "Relax. It'll be all right." "How can you know?" he countered, gazing into her eyes with interest. "Chai is rarely wrong. Even if Zellie pretends that it's _not_ Chai. Impossible child." "But this has shut out Athena, hasn't it? I don't think she's finding time to adjust." "Adama, she's strong. She'll do better with another. And she's also young, so she has plenty of time to _find_ another." "Wise as ever, hmm?" "If you say so, m'dear," Ari replied with a sunny smile. "Oh, I do," he grinned in return, and kissed her. "Mmm, make sure you're off duty before you start that, okay?" Adama laughed rather wickedly. "If you insist." Starbuck, meanwhile, had caught up with Zellie. She had not blown up anything further, to his relief. He delighted in her enthusiastic spirit, however unpredictable, but hoped that her literal explosiveness would be kept to a minimum aboardship. "So, you've decided?" Zellie challenged him. "Well...I don't want to lose you, you should know that. I...apologize for that problem back there." "Hmm. I love a good battle, but that was a _stupid_ one." "I guess. I didn't realize she still cared for me. She hasn't said much about it lately.' Zellie looked askance at him. "You think she does?" she asked in surprise. "I doubt that little performance had anything to do with _loving_ you, Starbuck. That was jealousy at its worst." Starbuck fidgeted. "I...isn't that a little harsh?" "She can't have you, so she doesn't want you near anyone else. Is that _really_ love?" "Ah...well, we humans have some crazy ideas, darlin'." "Yeah," Zellie grinned, "I'd noticed. But the Universe is insane itself, so it's just another of those things. Gah...here I've been denying that it could possibly ever be Chai, then I behave like _that_, and then I blame _Athena_." She swiped a hand through her hair and laughed. "All right, so...have _you_ decided, really? You can't have us both..." "But wouldn't it be interesting if I could?" Starbuck asked idly. "Oh, shut up; you're impossible." Fortunately, she was laughing so hard at this point, she hadn't taken offense. "I don't think I want you both. Or both you and Cassie. I think...Lords, it's impossible to believe...but I think I may have to grow up and decide. I think I must've decided when I followed you, Zellie. I doubt Sealing will change me _that_ much, not with _you_ as my partner!" "True. You may not have wanted your life to become any more _interesting_ than it already was, but here I am. And I think I'm picking up something from you about 'your quarters or mine'?" "Oh, I was just recalling that earlier promise regarding 'animal passion'..." "I think we may be too well-matched for our own good. We may even survive knowing each other. It'll be fun to find out!" As ceremonies were planned, the Ar'kinlan women chose the human ritual, as the Galacticans were their adopted people. They began to reflect on what relatives they could invite, at Adama's suggestion. "I assume you have families back home?" he asked. "Would they be interested in attending or participating?" Ari looked ready to sink through the deck plating. "That's not too likely, my dear," she sighed. "Interested, no; offended, definitely. See...one reason I left Ar'kinla so willingly is because I'd had a rather major falling-out with my family. I had nothing keeping me there, so I completed the break." "And my elder sister and I are completely alienated," added Zellie. "What caused that?" "Oh, politics. I came from a strictly conservative sect," reflected Ari, "which I rebelled against by taking Zellie's side. It came to the point of my parents disowning me. Whether or not the others - my brother and two sisters - agreed, they weren't about to fight our parents. Ar'kinlan Councillor Inthalla has long been more of a mother to me than my real one." "With me," continued Zellie, "it was Wendara. She rejected the lifestyle that she believed killed our parents, and she rejected me, because I was her personification of violence and anti..._Ar'kinlanness_. My big brother had already been inspired by the swashbuckling life, and my two other sisters, especially the youngest, would probably love to follow in our footsteps. At least I have _some_ family on my side." "A mess!" observed Adama. "Indeed, Commander..." "That could be a problem. In the Ceremony, who will act in the role of Protector?" "That's no problem," replied Ari. "Colonel Auriga, Karlani, Fenris - any of them would enjoy it." "I think I'll play with Wendara's mind and call Sandar. That should be fun!" "Should we expect bloodshed?" wondered Starbuck with a grin. "Oh, she's not violent. Just autocratic and self-righteous, like the best Ar'kinlans. There may be a verbal explosion, but she doesn't impress _me_." "Nothing like a nice, loyal family!" Starbuck remarked. "Right. Don't we wish..." As word was awaited from Sandar, Apollo wandered down a corridor, musing. He almost bumped into a chuckling Jolene. "Oh! I've been meaning to talk to you..." He jumped as a banshee-like wail sqwacked and blasted through the air. "What?!" he gasped, developing the strangest urge to draw his blaster and fire at the chaos. "Shannon," laughed Jolene, taking it all in stride, "off in a wild, unreachable musical world of her own." "That's music?" "Sometimes. Also known as bagpipes. You mean, she hasn't played them until now?" "Oh nooo..." moaned Apollo as the skirl o' the pipes echoed down the corridor. "That woman and you, together, are really strange, Jo!" "Girlish enthusiasm! Watch out, my friend, she's getting restless! You'll have quite a handful to deal with, I suspect." "What about you, Jo?" Apollo smiled. "You were wild at the Academy." "Ah, Gypsy," she answered with a reminiscent smile of her own. "I can't say I'm any calmer than I was then, Apollo. Though I'd like to stay here a while longer, I probably shouldn't...like Shannon, I go wacky when I stay places too long. Just a warning!" Jolene giggled and, sticking in some convenient earplugs, departed in the direction of the swirling piping. The Galacticans made ready for the crystal ship that soon docked. The pilot hopped out, then turned back, and lifted a smaller passenger out of the craft. He swung her down, setting the giggling girl onto the deck. Then he turned, a hand on her shoulder. A grin broke out on his handsome features as he surveyed his welcomers. He was not altogether unlike his sister. He stood an inch or two taller, his body equally lithe and athletic. Thick, rusty-blond hair tumbled to his shoulders and mischievous blue eyes sparkled with interest. His young companion was lovely. Not yet adolescent - as far as looks went, but she _was_ alien. Golden hair was pinned up, her cool eyes framed by eyebrows cocked in a habitual hauteur that gave her the look of an incipient princess. She whispered something to Sandar that earned her a dirty look. "Listen, little sister," he growled. "You'll be _living_ with these people. Shut up," he further suggested. The girl merely snorted amusedly. Zellie came forward to greet him and make introductions. She grinned. "So, Selen just couldn't resist, eh?" "Well, you know she's always wanted to follow your wild trail..." Selen smirked. "I also didn't want to be around Wendara anymore. She's terribly overbearing." "And you're not, little lady?!" Zellie laughed. Selen seemed to find it beneath her dignity to reply. Selen lost her dignity, though, and very strangely. She literally chased Boxey down a corridor when she saw him. Zellie and Sandar gave each other bewildered looks. "Chai?" they asked in unison. "What?!" gasped Apollo. "Um...forget it." She took Starbuck's arm. "C'mon, sexy, let's go get married..." Apollo heaved a deep sigh, collapsed into the shuttle's co-pilot's seat, and reflected on the bizarre chaos of the past centars. The Hellraisers had thrown a party the likes of which the Fleet had never seen, and barely imagined, before: proof that they were as fierce at relaxation as in battle. Perhaps Carillon could have compared, but _this_ had no malevolent secrets lurking underground. The result was joyously-blitzed Chai partners in the form of Starbuck and Zellie, who needed to be removed from the scene before they overdosed on fun; they had set about drinking each other under a table and attempting some fascinating recreational activities. Adama and Ari had not fallen 'victim' to that, but Tigh, who had officiated Adama's ceremony, had celebrated with his friend at 'full speed ahead', and had overindulged. "Poor dear," was Ari's response, as she helped Adama get him to the shuttle. Jolene had attended the celebration; as a result, she had been joyriding hair-raisingly through the Fleet, treating it as an obstacle course. When Jolene had been Gypsy, she'd had a Starbuckian capacity for disrupting the peace. Apollo hadn't minded; he hadn't been all that different. But now...? Since the battle, she and Shannon had been behaving as absolute nuts together. Alone, Shannon could pass as normal, as could Jolene; together, they were a blaze of unprecedented wackiness that boggled the mind. Granted, Jo had warned him... His reflections were interrupted as Shannon settled into the pilot's seat and surveyed the controls. Apollo wasn't comforted by the manic grin that spread over the young alien's face as she did so. It did no good for his nerves. Had she been drinking anything, or was this natural? "Shannon? I thought my father was...?" "I assured him I could. Besides, he'd much rather be with Ari, and he's been celebrating a little too hard." She eyed the controls a second time. "Do you happen to know how to fly this craft?" the Captain asked, dreading the answer. "No," laughed Shannon, "but I learn fast!" Apollo's jaw dropped, even as an AURORA crewmember spoke over the com: "Launch when ready." "3-2-1 - launching!" yelled the suddenly gung-ho alien, and the craft zoomed madly out of AURORA's launch tube. Apollo cringed as the ship was sent hurtling semi-expertly through the ships of the Fleet - like the aforementioned obstacle course. Or was it semi-expertly? Was it in fact a sort of mad stunt-pilot expertise? He had to admit they weren't hitting anything... Not even Starbuck flew like this. It was more Zellie's style, though not as refined. Was this how Ar'kinlans - even half-Ar'kinlans - always flew? He glanced at their course and shuddered at the sight of ships flipping hectically by. Amazed that he still lived, he considered passing out. He'd never dreamed of a ride like this! Apparently, he wasn't the only one with these thoughts. The Commander lurched into the cockpit, holding onto a convenient projection and shoving some uncooperative hair out of his eyes. "Hey - you trying to assassinate me?" he protested. "I thought you told me you could fly?!" "I can! Aren't I?" "You tell me, Shannon!" "Well...get ready," came the frightening remark. "What _now_?" they asked in unison. "I always wanted to do this at NASA, but I'd probably have destroyed their spacecraft." The speed increased. Risking a look, the witnesses realized with a great deal of horror that they were headed straight for the GALACTICA on a ramming run. A great shout of "BANZAI!" split the air. At the last hideous instant, Shannon pulled back hard and the ship went into a horrific banking maneuver, shooting straight upwards with microns to spare. "Whoo!" came a startled yelp and a graceless thud, as the Commander lost it entirely. "Sorry!" Shannon apologized inadequately, over her shoulder. Apollo passed out quietly, with a thought zipping through his mind - no one had ever before pulled off that maneuver in a shuttle! Shannon gave a victory whoop and laughed, "General Yeager - John Young - eat your hearts out!" She resumed normal flight, waiting for her slightly terrorized companions to awaken. They did so, centons later, with some irritability and much dizziness. "Ohh," Apollo groaned. "You...missed your calling. You should've been...a stunt pilot." "Oh, better than that, I was NASA's first female mission commander - but I never subjected 'em to that. As I said, I'd have massacred their ships. Zellie's better, but I just had to prove she's not the only hot flier around!" She flipped an insolent grin Apollo's way. "You'll live. I did nothing a human couldn't survive." "Tell that to my nerves," requested Adama, warily regaining his feet. "I don't think I've ever been spacesick before!" "Be glad it wasn't Jolene in my place. She's only checked out on TARDISes. So you're lucky you didn't lose any ships." Another silly grin. "With me, you only lose your lunch!" "_Now_ you tell us she can't fly..." sighed Apollo. Something penetrated his squelching brain. "NASA?" "A Terran space agency. I worked for it when I was stranded there - briefly, in cosmic terms." "Terra? Another name for - Earth?" Adama realized. "You got it." "EARTH?" "Yes! I know you've a fanatic desire to find that planet, and you shall - but I'm not going to lead you there." "Why not, if you know where it is?" "So do the Doctor and Jolene. So do the Hellraisers! Give them time. Compared to you, if I have my time frame right, they're terribly primitive. Though, compared to both the races in my ancestry, you're pretty pathetic, too..." "Oh, thanks! Insulted by an alien - that's all we need to make our day complete," Apollo commented wryly. "No offense meant, Captain, sorry. Really, when I was there, I never understood how they could be destined to become one of their galaxy's major spacefaring races. Especially when I left that confused agency. I didn't stay to help them, because I'm a time-traveller and decided I shouldn't muck about with history any more than I already had." "Oh, I see," sighed Adama woodenly. "I'm sure you don't - but that's all right." "Mind if we put you on report for that joyride?" asked Apollo. "If you wish. But I'm not a Colonial Warrior, I'm a Hellraiser - you must know by now why they're called what they are." "I have a pretty good idea!" Adama remarked. Shannon glanced at the dazed Commander with amused concern. "Go hibernate for a while, sir; I think you really need it. Before you pass out where you stand...or wobble, as the case may be." "Cute," grumbled Adama. "This just isn't fair..." Wondering if he was stuck in someone else's dream - and if the dreamer was enjoying it! - he turned and walked back to the passenger section, retaining his balance with rather more strength of will than skill. "Lovely," Apollo told Shannon. "You just single-handedly demolished the Commander. It takes real skill to do that to my father." Shannon giggled. "Oh, he'll be fine. I always had that effect on the Doctor..." she mused, then continued. "I didn't kill anyone, so if you were planning on pressing charges, I really don't know what they could be." "Terrorism? Terminal embarrassment?" the Captain suggested, then gave up. Shannon laughed again. "Happy news for you - we're coming in to land now." "Thank the Lords..." The Hellraisers were going out on a mission, then departing until needed again. Shannon decided it was time to move on and travel with them. Jolene had left after the celebrations, and Shannon desired to deal with her own restlessness. "I've enjoyed It here on GALACTICA," she told Apollo. "Then why leave?" "I'm not a Colonial Warrior, as I've said. I had my stint of military life back at UNIT; I don't need more of it. Tell me, could you really deal with me when I get wanderlust?" "Probably not!" remarked Adama. "Right. Well, that's how I've been acting, and I've been playing havoc with your minds." "But you've also helped," Apollo interjected. "Thanks. But if I stayed, my conscience - darn the thing - might make me join the Service." She stared out at the stars. "Like you, space is my home. Even _more_ than you. Like Colonel Auriga, I only feel truly alive when I'm journeying. Remember, I was stuck on one planet for several hundred yahrens. My soul is...wild! All I want is to be an explorer. That wanderlust...the Doctor, Jolene, and David share it. I actually rather enjoy never quite knowing where I'll end up next, but don't let the Doctor know I said that!" "If it hadn't been for the War," Apollo reflected mournfully, "we could have been explorers ourselves." "We are now," Adama reminded him. "Yes, but whatever you encounter along the way, you're only tracking one planet," Shannon explained, "the very planet to which I was exiled. I know their history, I know they'll eventually be worth your finding - but I don't want to return." "Is that why you've withheld information?" "I seem to recall telling you, sir, they're not ready for you. When it's time, you'll find 'em." "Thank you, that's a big help..." Adama sighed. "I know I drive people nuts, but I can't help that." She paused. "I must leave now. It's been fun, hasn't it?" "_Fun_ isn't exactly what I'd call it!" remarked Apollo. Shannon laughed. "Maybe not! But it _has_ been interesting." She saluted Adama, gave Apollo a quick embrace. "I hope we meet again, Warriors. Farewell." Apollo considered. She was a good friend; he didn't want her to go. He had the impression she was running from something, that she was one of those friendly types who didn't want to be known too well; rather like Starbuck, in fact. //Frack it// was his dejected thought, strong enough to be broadcasted. //I'm lonely; don't leave me. I keep being haunted by Serina. Why does this always happen to _me_?// Shannon, as she left, suddenly turned back and stared at him. //Oh, Apollo// she scolded fondly, //don't be silly. You couldn't live my lifestyle. And don't be blind - you have someone right here on GALACTICA who wants you. Relax! You need to do that as much as your father does!// She grinned at Adama, who wasn't "hearing" this discussion, as it was focused between the two. However, Adama noticed Apollo's familiarly anguished eyes, and sighed. /Son, you have interesting taste/, he mused. However, he thought he understood the attraction. //Thank you// Shannon chuckled at him, then eyed Apollo again. //You have someone who's been waiting for you. If you need hints, she's another mixed-up Commander's child, just like you. Try to open up to her! You might like it! 'Bye!// Leaving a rather stunned Apollo staring after her, Shannon turned to go. Mental laughter at so startling the Captain trailed in her wake. "Apollo?" "Huh? Father? Oh..." He collected his thoughts. "She was just teasing me about Sheba, really..." Apollo shook his head, then snapped himself out of his dazed contemplation, and returned to duty, wondering if he really _could_ deal with Cain's daughter. After all this, he probably could handle anyone... Shannon, on AURORA's bridge, settled back in a seat and eyed Karlani expectantly. "What's our objective?" "Well, this mission is for GALACTICA. You see, they picked up a little visitor - a Cylon basestar, very likely Baltar's. In brief, we get rid of it! I promised Adama we'd be on hand when he needed any extra help." She broke off. "I see that wicked look, lady. What are you thinking?" "Well, I'd need Zellie - and Fenris, as they seem to work well together - for a short time." "I think that could be arranged." "Good. I have an idea..." Lucifer entered Baltar's chambers and spoke: "By your command, Baltar. I bring strange news." "What have you to report, Lucifer?" Baltar enquired, bored and aggravated. Things had not been going very well lately: Iblis was gone; Jakarla had invited him to join forces and then rudely disappeared without notice... "We have taken prisoner a Colonial sympathizer." "Ahh, good. What is so strange?" "For one: she managed to board this ship undetected, until she announced herself. Second: she let herself be taken prisoner without fighting, though she was armed. Third: it is not often one finds a Warrior armed with something as primitive as a mere sword, not a blaster, yes? She wishes to see you, and is being escorted here now." "Good. I want to know what is occurring. Jakarla hasn't deigned to brief me; perhaps this one will...explain," he concluded with a maniacal look that suggested he was looking forward to engaging in ways to make her do just that. Several Centurions entered, the prisoner in front of them. The latter halted before Baltar and gazed coolly at him. Baltar stared back, wondering about this woman. She wasn't the least afraid, and she didn't look quite...human. What would an alien want with the GALACTICA; why would she bother risking herself for that lot? She must be mad. //Aye, a little. But you outrank me in that department// came a 'voice' from nowhere. "What?!" He snapped out of his reverie. No one had spoken. He shook his head and glared at the girl. "What in Hades is going on? Why didn't you fight? Do realize that I have you right where I want you. You'll have to talk, for I can do whatever I wish..." //You mean, you could try.// Baltar suddenly understood. "Telepathy!" "You guessed! I didn't believe you were capable of thought, considering your brain consists of..." she grinned, "felgercarb!" "Insults will do you no good in your position. Have you ever experienced Cylon torture firsthand? If not, I could let you; it's wonderfully...convincing." "Oh, I'm sure it is, dear. Have you ever experienced the wrath of a rather irritated being who comes from Time Lord and Ar'kinlan blood?" Baltar went pale. "Ohh, @#%&?!!" he gasped. "Logical reaction. Here's a sample." Shannon glanced back at one of the Centurions in the chamber. The Cylon took on the look of a human suffering terrible vertigo, staggered, and fell over backwards with a satisfying crash. "Oh dear!" Lucifer muttered. Baltar's eyes widened. "What did you just do?!" he demanded, leaping from his chair. "I just psionically fried the tinhead's electronic brainwaves. Easy when you know how...and I _do_." "Apparently so..." said Lucifer weakly, beginning to fear for his safety. A remaining Centurion made a move for his sword, but didn't come close. Fighting it on its own terms, Shannon whipped out the sword she had borrowed from Zellie, which proved not to be 'primitive' but was a powerful energy weapon. She didn't care for weapons, but was well-trained in their use. Living with desert warriors and hunters in her youth had definitely honed her survival skills. Swinging hard, she connected solidly with the Centurion's head, which obligingly flew off. Baltar yowled and ducked as it shot overhead, instead hitting the last Cylon and denting it rather badly. It stood dazed for a moment, then Shannon fried it, too. "And what about me?!" demanded Baltar. "You? Well, I have a great many comrades who'd enjoy tearing you apart with their bare hands, that's all." "That's _all_?!" "Don't you deserve it?" Baltar couldn't take anymore. He turned and tried to head for the hatch. His progress was cut short when he abruptly froze in his tracks, incapable of movement. Shannon walked to him and stared Into his eyes. Baltar defiantly glared back and began to grow dizzy. Lucifer was on the point of short-circuiting. He hadn't been created for combat and now regretted it rather a lot. He moved as quietly as he could and got a laser rifle from one of the trashed Centurions. At least he could _try_. Shannon laughed. "Not a bad try, bright-eyes. Don't care to join the Hellraisers, do you?" "What?!" "No, too loyal to the Cylons. Pity. Pardon me, I'm going to decommission you for a while." She jammed the tall robot's brainwaves; Lucifer clanged onto the deck, fizzing slightly. /I think he liked Starbuck/, she reflected. /A little reprogramming by David, and he can be the Bucko's eternal Pyramid partner!/ She giggled wackily at the thought. Baltar, still frozen, rolled his eyes and attempted to communicate. He managed a few curses. "That won't do you any good," Shannon remarked. She glanced at him again. Irresistibly, she was reminded of 'I am the Master; you will obey me.' "Urrggh...you...I'll...kill you!" Baltar spat. "Not likely," Shannon grinned. "You'll come with me whether you want to or not." Reaching into his mind, she calmly pulled the plug on consciousness, and was almost unwilling to catch him as he fell. //All right, David// she sent to the Hellraisers' co-commander. //Time to return. That was too easy!// //Yes, it was, wasn't it? Good work.// Colonel Auriga operated the teleporter, and three disparate beings (Gallikinlan, 'human', android) vanished from the basestar. Zellie stood at a bank of Cylon computers, hacking into the system, while Fenris stood guard. "Frackin' Cylon operating system..." Fenris grinned fiercely. "Abort, Retry - Blow Up." "Oh, yeah." She played around for a few centons, muttering as she went, gave a "hah!" of satisfaction, then began tearing the machinery apart with her hands. She tossed a lot of the debris into a corner and blasted it with telekinesis just to make a point. "That must've felt good," noted Fenris. Looking over at her handiwork, Zellie reflected, "So, the main computer's down...there...on the deck." "Hah," Fenris snorted. "I think we can go now." "Before the ship blows up? I think we'd _better_." "Well, there's always that... AURORA, please teleport us back." Baltar knew he was no longer on his ship. He could always open his eyes and learn where he indeed now _was_, but somehow, the idea held no appeal for him. "Rejoined us, o scum of the Universe?" came a voice. Sarcasm. Wonderful. Just what he needed with his head spinning. Baltar reluctantly opened his eyes. "Oh, that little _hussy_!" he hissed. "You mean Shannon?" Baltar focused on the woman who had spoken, taking in the fiery red hair and icy eyes and lovely, dangerous features, and wasn't overly thrilled with his present situation. "What...where?" "Captain Zellandra. You're a prisoner of the Hellraisers, aboard the battlecruiser AURORA. Your destination is the battlestar GALACTICA, then the Prison Barge. Unless they don't want you back; then you might stay in our brig, in solitary, for...oh, how does eternity sound to you?" Baltar's mind reeled. "Just who was that female who abducted me?" "Shannon. The lady has inimitable style. Well...near-inimitable. I'm a hot contender in such matters, myself..." "Anyway," came Shannon's mischievously lilting voice, "in a manner of speaking, we've saved your life." "Huh?" said Baltar intelligently. "Well, I'm afraid your basestar simply...blew up," was Shannon's innocent reply. "Didn't notice me, did you?" Zellie added. "I wrecked the computer system, planted some explosive little surprises for your Cylons, and the chain effect of all that detonation...what a shame, eh?" "You...you terrorists...you think of everything!" "Thanks for the compliment," said another female voice. "But we have a little more class than simple terrorists." Baltar looked at Karlani and his mind boggled again at the sight of feathers and wings. "Oh no! I'm going mad!" "Weren't you already?" enquired Zellie sweetly. Baltar ignored her. "Really," David commented, "the Prison Barge is a little good..." "Yes," replied another voice. "Throwing him to the Fleet's survivors might be more appropriate." Again, Baltar looked at the speaker. This one caused him to jump backwards in shock. It was the fangs that really got to him. "What are you?!" "Not 'what' - 'who'. Fenris, from Rendelmar Four. The Warriors are my friends." He bared his canines for effect and growled softly. "I will not let you harm them further." Baltar approached a lovely state of abject terror, really quite amusing. "Coward. I am not a murderer - fortunately for you." "Yes," added Zellie. "He deserves whatever we can imagine for him. And I, for one, can imagine a _lot_. But telekinetic shredding would leave an _awful_ mess to clean up!" Shannon winced. "Gruesome. Just leave him to the Galacticans. It might seem overly lenient, but solitary confinement can work wonders..." "It would have to be solitary," agreed David. "Otherwise, he'd be killed by the prisoners. Rather nastily, wouldn't you think?" "AAGGHH!" Baltar shouted, and made a break for what he hoped was a way out. Cinnabar seized him. "You could always face Fenris and me...?" she warned, smiling meanly and showing all her fangs; her tail eased dangerously near his throat, with intentions of wrapping around it. "I'd rather not do either! You can't do this to me!" "Yes, we can," was the only reply, voiced unanimously by everyone in the vicinity. A spastically protesting Baltar was then dragged off to the brig to await rendezvous with the GALACTICA. "But Adama freed me!!" Baltar yelled at his 'escort'. "One of his rare mistakes," returned Zellie. "If it was up to me, you'd be lacking your head, not just your freedom. So shut up, please, before I lose my temper." She smiled at him. It was not a nice smile. Baltar shut up. Commander Adama was not entirely thrilled by the Hellraisers' little token of friendship. "Baltar?" he grimaced. "We don't need him back here." "Just banish him to some forgotten corner of the Prison Barge," Karlani suggested. "You'll eventually have a drooling zombie which, unless you believe in the undead, won't be any danger!" "He's a basket case anyway; how would we tell the difference...?" Zellie mused. "Please, sir, don't free him on some remote planet," continued Karlani. "I mean, _Jakarla_ could rescue him this time, and she's capable of the strangest things..." "Why not a good, barbaric beheading?" enquired Zellie. "Has a lovely finality about it." "Zellie, stop it, please," Adama requested. "For you, I'll do anything." "Thanks." "Of course. But an airlock accident would also be nice..." Adama sighed. "Solitary confinement in a _very_ forgotten section of the Barge?" He shrugged. "Maybe he'll die and we can space him..." "...Without a suit, and preferably while still alive." "Zellie," David remarked in wonder, "you're just a walking mess of mercy." "Mercy for Baltar? I'm not that crazy." "Nor am I," replied Adama. "But, unfortunately, I have morals." "Morals? What are they?" Zellie teased. "Well, if you don't know by now, you'll never learn. I know what you want; I'd like to execute him myself, but...let's exercise some restraint. Please?" "You're the Commander." She snapped off a neat salute and bowed. "I'm at your service." "Thanks again." Adama favored the scared Baltar with a piercing glare that proved his identity whatever he looked like now. "Baltar!" he announced, and the traitor jumped; he'd been staring at the Commander as if completely unsure of his grip on reality. "Please," he muttered, "tell me someone's joking...you can't be Adama..." "I can be. I _am_. Do you see a problem with that?" "I...I think I do...the hair, mostly..." Baltar moaned. "I'm not pleased with it, either," Adama replied coolly. "It refuses to comply with discipline and certain people refuse to allow me to cut it." /What in Hades? I'm discussing fashion with _Baltar_? I do _not_ want to go there/, he found himself thinking with a shiver. "It's so unfair!" Baltar continued. "That could be true, but it's better than being dead." "I didn't get to kill you myself, and frack - you have another chance and you beat me _again_!" he complained. "Huh?" asked Zellie. "No comment..." sighed Adama, then regarded Baltar once more. "The Council has already sentenced you once; to their verdict, I have only to add: solitary confinement." "For life, of course? But whatever will you do if Jakarla returns?" Baltar attempted his customary sneering evilness, but it lacked its former energy. "Why should she return for you?" laughed Zellie. "She deserted Iblis; you can't believe she cares for you." "Well..." muttered Baltar, and almost managed to muster up an unconcerned smirk. "Hah," replied Zellie succinctly and gestured at two guards. "Hey, lads, can you manage to get him to the Barge without having him escape, or would you like some help?" "We're Council Security..." the obnoxious Reese began. "Yes, that's what worries me." She grinned charmingly. "Say, would you like me to become Head of Security?" The two looked at each other and nearly fainted. "No? Well, let me help you, anyway, just this once." With a wicked laugh, she joined the guards as they went on their way. Adama considered this startling suggestion and laughed. "Tigh, remember saying that Council Security couldn't prevent an escape from the Orphan Ship? Zellie might be just what they need..." Cassiopea, seeming strangely dazed, had asked to talk to Zellie. "Um...could I talk to you, please?" "That's why I'm here..." She eyed Cassie warily. "Could you explain Chai to me?" "Why? There aren't any more Ar'kinlans here, apart from..." She stopped dead and her mouth actually fell open. "You're joking!" "I don't think so, Zellie." "Sandar? _You_ have Chai'ed with _my brother_?" Zellie forced down her incipient tantrum and simply stared at the head nurse in shock. "Well, it's not like I _meant_ to...but I met him at the Sealing Ceremony and we couldn't seem to stop staring at each other." "That's probably Chai. Goddess, are you playing a practical joke?? I don't understand..." "Sorry. If it's because I was a...a rival for Starbuck, I understand if you don't want to accept it." "No, I have to accept it. No way around it. Welcome, sister-in-law." Zellie shook her head, an uncharacteristically glazed look in her eyes. "Life works in the strangest ways, doesn't it?" A certain Gallifreyan timeship tripped erroneously through the Vortex. Within this TARDIS, Jolene Whomana slammed a fist against the console and muttered a few choice words in Ancient Gallifreyan. Shannon O'Connor grinned manically. Their latest companion, Vislor Turlough (now Jo's Chai and husband, but that was a meaningless coincidence), sighed and gazed moodily at the misbehaving controls. "One of these days..." Jolene growled. "Where are we?" Turlough asked for the sixth time. "In the wrong place at the wrong time," Jolene sighed. "Again!" "Oh, we didn't make it to Harrods?" asked Shannon with sadistic innocence. "Where are we?" Turlough asked for the seventh time. "Now? On a moving starship seven days out from the Rendelmar system, in the year 7387," Jolene answered. "Oh." Turlough glanced heavenwards, praying for one day, just _one day_, of Non-Life-Threatening-Save-the Universe-Adventure. With a resigned growl, Jolene pulled a large, red-handled toggle. The doors opened and the self-dubbed Terrible Trio exited their TARDIS. They immediately regretted it. "I knew this was a bad idea from the start, didn't I say so?" Jo asked gloomily. "NO!" Shannon and Turlough chorused. Commander Adama studied these three extremely odd people. Two tall, slim redheads and a brunette. The man, whom he didn't recognize, had a look like Zellie's with his piercing blue eyes. The brunette was still like Aristephone, with her youthful looks but ancient eyes. The female redhead was, as ever...distinctly incomparable. There was a soft crash from within the TARDIS. Jolene sighed. Shannon closed her eyes, counting to a fairly high number. "The plant's fallen; we're in trouble again!" Turlough moaned. Unable to find any relation between these two statements, Adama shook his head and resigned himself to another siege of bewilderment. "Where are we?" Turlough asked for the eighth time, casting a despairing glance at Jolene. "I TOLD YOU ALREADY!" Jolene shrieked. Adama winced. "Why are you here? And who is your...associate?" Jolene began to calmly walk around the bridge, examining everything minutely. "We screwed up," she remarked. "We're...from your future. Don't ask me how far; we don't measure time the way you do." Adama shuddered as she began casually flipping switches. "Primitive devices, actually..." Jolene studied the starchart and grimaced. "Have you been to Earth yet?" she asked, face relaxing into a grin. "Quite my favorite planet." "Earth?" Adama pounced eagerly, with a dirty look at Shannon, who had refused to tell them anything. "Where is it?" "Oh, Earth?" sighed Turlough. "It's really a very minor planet - quite inconsequential..." "Rather a nasty little mudball," added Shannon, with typical unhelpfulness. "Yes, but _where is it_?!" Tigh demanded. They'd only been searching for the planet for yahrens and their last hope seemed to be a trio of...basket cases...who _would not tell_! "Ah, let me see." Jolene peered at the starchart. "It's three up from Betelgeuse and two over from Kakar Four...oops! You don't have that sector here." "Oh, God..." Adama groaned. "Is it wise to tell 'em where Earth is, Jo?" Shannon smart-alecked, wanting some of the attention Jolene was getting. "If you don't tell us _something_," Adama grated, trying to be threatening, "I'll...shoot your bagpipes?" "Blackmail!" she remarked, pretending to be offended. "What have they ever done to you?" "I shouldn't answer that," Adama decided. Aristephone entered the bridge, then, and stared. "Oh no! You're back??" "Still slummin' with Ar'kinlans?" Shannon asked Adama tactlessly, and walked back to the TARDIS (which had made itself quite visible by appearing as something called a 'vending machine'). "Ar'kinlans aren't my favorite folk," Jolene stated, "but I can tolerate them." "I rarely can," Shannon called back. "What?" asked Ari, bewildered. "Ar'kinla and Gallifrey settled their dispute after the War with Iblis!" "Never mind us; we don't like anyone," Shannon exaggerated. "We're renegades." "Shannon's never been on good terms with Ar'kinlans," Turlough tried to explain to Adama. "Oh," said Adama, just for the sake of looking like he understood - whIch he didn't, not the least. But that was all right, because neither did Turlough. Tigh sat down quickly and attempted to comprehend the strange events happening around him. It was entirely useless. "Where are we?" Turlough asked for the ninth time. "Here." Jolene pointed to a spot on the starchart that was actually three thousand light years off and contained a black hole. Her navigational skill was about as rusty as the Doctor's. "Thank you." Turlough sat by Tigh and watched Jolene. "Who are you?" Tigh asked. "I'm Turlough from the planet Trion. Please excuse Jolene - she lost her sanity in a tragic accident years - yahrens? - ago, and has been searching for it ever since." He grinned cheerfully, tried to back it up with a reassuring smile - but it failed to reassure. Jolene overheard and laughed. "Yes, of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most!" "Have you ever felt as if you were trapped in a very bad sixties' sitcom?" Shannon asked idly, then sighed. "Jolene-love, perhaps we can be off to Harrods now, or even Shardans of New London - okay?" Turlough pleaded, knowing all too well that it was probably useless. Jolene chuckled at Turlough's "I-Know-Something-Nasty-Is-Going-To-Happen" Look Number Three. Shannon calmly leaned against the TARDIS door. "Or we could all just stay in bed and sleep late." "What's going on?" Starbuck asked, as he entered, in the company of Apollo and Boomer. "That's what we'd like to know..." Tigh sighed. "Help!" Adama muttered. "I'm losing it here!" "Jo, perhaps we should pop on ahead and make reservations? After all, a battlefleet full of refugees isn't exactly something you simply dump in some world's lap," Turlough commented wryly. "Talk about illegal aliens..." mused Shannon. "Hmm. You're right, love." Jolene turned to Adama. "We're leaving now." "Thank the Lords of Kobol!" Adama muttered fervently. "Nice to see you again," added Shannon, flipping a grin towards Apollo. "I wish I could say the feelings were mutual," admitted Adama, "but I'd probably be lying." "See you in a few yahrens on Earth!" Turlough called as the Terrible Trio returned to their TARDIS. "Not if we see you first!" Tigh shouted after them. The TARDIS dematerialized. "Temporal paradoxes - that's all we need..." sighed Adama. He looked back out at the stars, then asked Ari, "Is this sort of thing going to happen often?" "You never know, with renegade time-travellers." Adama shrugged. "They're fun, much as I hate to admit it, but exposure to them tends to warp logic in the most incredible ways!" Gathering the resulting scattered bits of one's mind together into functional mode was a rather difficult task, he had learned. They were as disorientingly strange as Iblis, just not evil... Adama grinned at Ari, then surveyed his crew calmly. "And on, with luck, to Earth..." The End