Stormy Weather
Nov. 16, 1999

Summary: A couple years after the original Galactica arrives on Earth,
the Cylons show up, forcing a titanic battle.

     Adama gazed at the rows of corn in front of him. He enjoyed
livestock farming the most - as well as trying to breed dogs in his spare
time - but his grandson, Boxey, had fallen in love with the crop after
he'd flown through a wormhole and become the first of their people on
Earth. Adama stopped his tractor, feeling a little tired as the late
afternoon sun bore down upon him. Time to take a break, don't want any
farming accidents now, thought the former commander.
     He stepped out and gazed thoughtfully at his surroundings. The
warmth of a real sun, the clear blue sky, and amber waves of grain
provided such awesome sights to him. More so than could be believed. He
began to hum "America the Beautiful" as he pondered the sight. Millions
of Galacticans had been placed on Earth in mostly remote locations,
generally as farmers, as that was something they could all do somewhat
well. Of course, part of that was because of the first contact with
Earthlings - fellow humans Harry Kirok and his family were farmers, and
had been ideal people to provide the fleet of 220 ships with information
on farming and how to do it. All while keeping their mouths shut. Boxey
and the eldest Kirok child, Jimmy, had quickly become extremely close
friends, and were now cousins to boot. They reminded him of his son,
Apollo, and Starbuck.
     Now, all the misery of space flight, all the worries about food, all
the battles with the evil Cylons, who had destroyed their own home world
and several others', were history. Or so he thought.
     A Cylon craft whizzed past Earth's moon, taking pictures. The photos
were immediately relayed to the gold Cylon's throne, as one might call
it. He summoned Lucifer, an enemy of humans who wished to destroy them
all. Lucifer stared at the reconnaissance photos and grinned an evil
grin. "You did quite well in finding that wormhole just before it
collapsed."
     "We have been able to sneak three basestars through." Lucifer
hummed. "Earth does not appear to have any advanced technology. Do we
send a craft through right away?"
     The Cylon rejected the notion. "We need to make sure the Galactica
is nowhere to be found - you do not see it in Earth's orbit. How about
the moon?" Lucifer had not seen it there. "Check the dark side of the
moon. It could not have landed on Earth, so it must be somewhere. Just be
sure to avoid any contact with Earth governments. We have heard nothing
of their brethren reaching Earth, so they could have gone on to someplace
else, and even if they didn't, the Earthlings do not know about us."
     Lucifer bowed. Either way, they would hopefully be able to eliminate
more humans. Many more, from what the population density appeared to be.
"At your command."
     Just before climbing into his tractor once more, Adama gazed upward.
He squinted - no, it can t be, he told himself. And yet, it certainly
looked like it.
     In the air, a Cylon raider had flown too near a jet aircraft bound
for Chicago. Not wishing to be seen, it had dipped precipitously. The
drag created made it hard to pull back up, and the Cylon had
underestimated the gravitational pull. Soon, it was crashing with a
tremendous "splat!" The tinkling of metal must have been heard for miles,
Adama thought to himself, not to mention if there was a sonic boom. He
ran to the truck outside his barn listening to the intense oinking and
squawking coming from the frightened creatures. "This is James T.," came
the name which he used on his CB, "is there anyone from the US Air Force
out there?" He chuckled, thinking of the very strange lingo. "Any of you
with your ears on?'"
     A colonel whom Adama recognized from his initial discussions with
the U.S. government answered. "Yeah, James T., this is Cub Fan, what's
up?"
     Adama snickered again. This is the price we pay for secrecy, he
considered. Oh, well, I know what the ravages of war are like. If we can
keep governments from using our stuff to escalate an arms race and
destroy each other, I'll call myself anything. "Just had a crash, you
need to get some people out here. Made some bacon." He laughed aloud at
that one.
     "One of yours?"
     "Worse," spoke Adama as the concept suddenly hit him square between
the eyes. How are we going to defeat them? Can we? In a foreboding tone,
he said "one of theirs."
     Air Force planes soon were hovering over the crash site, and
military vehicles were inspecting the wreckage. Adama returned to the
farmhouse, dreading the thought of having to fly back tot he Galactica.
Just when he d begun to love life on Earth. Not to mention being a few
fleet ships short if - Heaven forbid - they ever needed to take
Earthlings up and flee with them. No, he told himself, that's ridiculous
to even think that. Remember - we won that last battle on faith. He
pondered the similarity between their final battle to get to Earth to the
Biblical story of David and Goliath. He hoped a similar miracle could be
pulled off this time.
     Upon arriving home, he saw Boxey consoling Jimmy, who appeared ready
to burst out in tears. "What's wrong," came the concerned voice.
     "My dad s tractor flipped over," came the whiny voice. He sniffled.
"He was trapped in it...they managed to get him out, but he's hurt real
bad." Boxey embraced the lad. "Oh, Jimmy." Adama went over and knelt
beside the pre-teen. It reminded him so much of Boxey worrying about his
dad flying around in space fighting the Cylons. And maybe that helped
Boxey be able to comfort Jimmy here. But, still... "If there s anything
we can do, please, let us know."
     Boxey spoke up. "Dad's on the phone right now. He s getting some
people together to bring in the harvest for the Kiroks; he said we could
even go, we mostly do livestock so we don't have too much to worry about,
and the farmhands could do it all for a few days if they had to"
     Adama considered that Boxey sounded just like a real eleven
yahren...make that eleven year old farm boy. Nobody would ever know the
difference. Only a couple years ago, the U.N. was inoculating them all
against Earth diseases, and getting information on how to quickly
immunize nearly five billion people against any diseases they might have.
Earth life still seemed like such an odd concept. And now, life in outer
space seemed so remote, so foreign to the lad. Sure, there were things
Adama, Apollo, Boxey, and the others didn't know or fully comprehend
about Earth, but still, they had forgotten about that sort of thing. He
felt embarrassed to have to bring it up again.
     And yet, as the doorbell rang, Adama knew he must. For at the door
stood Major Joseph Wood, of the U.S. Air Force. He greeted Adama, and was
about to inquire into what happened when he noticed Boxey. He didn't want
to interrupt the boy as he consoled his friend over whatever the problem
was, so he turned to Adama. "He was here a couple years ago, in that
what-you-call-it - viper - wasn't he?"
     The commander nodded. He suddenly thought of himself as commander
again, after having become just a regular farmer. "First one of ours to
reach. He won a David and Goliath battle for us, then flew through a
wormhole."
     Wood smiled courteously toward Boxey, who finally noticed him. "It's
okay," he said. "I know you might remember me from last time, when they
tried to tell me that was some experimental aircraft covered up there. I
might have asked you a bunch of questions about your world, but I just
wanted you to know, if I'd learned you were from space I would have kept
quiet knowing you were just a kid."
     "Thanks," came the grinning boy.
     "Anyway, back to what I was gonna say. We..." He saw Apollo walk in
from the kitchen. "Captain Apollo; Major Joseph Wood, US Air Force."
     Apollo was stunned. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had
called him that. "Captain-"
     "Apollo," came Adama's grim remark. "We have a very serious
problem."
     The pilot couldn't believe his ears when Adama and Wood spoke with
him in the kitchen. And Sheba and I were going to celebrate our first
sealing - oops, wedding - anniversary early next week. Athena's due any
day. This is ridiculous, he mused. "Are you sure it was a Cylon ship?"
"We've been around them too long to think otherwise," Adama commented.
     Wood elaborated. "We picked something up on radar, but like usual,
we didn't ask any questions, figured it was just one of your people.
Especially since it was coming down right on your farm. Then we got the
call from your dad," explained Wood, still shocked at the events of the
last two years. This was starting to sound so much like a science fiction
story. "As I speak, the man in charge of relaying messages is contacting
the Galactica. There should be a shuttle coming from there, with vipers
protecting them, around midday tomorrow. I understand she's still
equipped with a skeleton crew?" It was. "Good, you may need her. I think
Colonel Tigh is the Trimonthly Commander?'" He was. Tigh, Starbuck,
Boomer, and former President Adar rotated as commander of the Galactica's
forces. "Good; he'll be notified, and will bring the battlestar around.
Hope you've used our foundries and equipment well. You might need a lot
of vipers; we don't know how many Cylons are out there."
     "More than enough, I'm sure," Adama spoke candidly.
     "Wait, what about the harvest down here?" The voice was Apollo's.
     "But you don't plant that much."
     "I'm talking about Harry Kirok's." The man looked down and said
"he's in really bad shape, but they'll go broke if they don't get all
those crops in. It's the most important time of the year."
     Had Wood been more of a joking man, he would have said something
very hokey about all Earth counting on them. As it was, he merely
iterated that "we make up an illness for you, say you're contagious, and
that's the end of it. I understand," came the now less formal tone, "you
want to help your neighbor. Of all your citizens, Commander Adama, your
family has done perhaps the best job of any in blending in with your
fellow human beings. I give part of the credit to Harry Kirok and his
family. But you have done well yourselves."
     "I think our like faiths have helped - I was always a great man of
faith, I just put my trust in the Lord as so many here do," Adama told
the major.
     "Of course, how else would you have even set out for Earth, except
by faith," agreed Wood. "But you don't have to worry about not fitting in
because you're not seen helping the Kiroks." He grinned. The family knew
the story - Athena had told Harry Kirok's brother, Bruce, the night he
proposed. It had taken a while for Bruce to get used to it, but after all
Athena had said, this "love at first sight" relationship had still
blossomed into marriage, the first between one of the Galacticans and an
Earthling, the previous November. And yet, it had been so like any other
Earth marriage, right down to the normal pregnancy that Athena was about
to carry to term. Yes, if any doubt existed before, it was certifiable
now. These were definitely their brothers and sisters. The major
concluded by remarking "you have done such a great job of fitting in, I
never would have believed there was anything different."
     Apollo fretted about what to tell Boxey. He called him and Sheba
into the kitchen. There's no easy way to say this, he thought to himself
as he blurted out "we have some bad news. The Cylons are back."
     Boxey shook his head. "They can't be."
     "I know, we beat them fair and square last time - well, you did,"
the proud father remarked, grinning ear to ear.
     "God won that battle."
     The commander decided this was an appropriate time to mention their
leaving. "Yes, Boxey, God has won many battles for us, and the Hand of
God shall be here, too. That is one thing we always shared, was faith.
There'll be a shuttle coming to pick us up tomorrow morning or early
afternoon."
     "Can I come along," wondered the boy. He began to pout as his dad
softly said "no."
     Apollo hugged Boxey. "Your mother and I are both needed as viper
pilots." He could tell Boxey might soon begin to cry like Jimmy was. "I
know this is very hard for you. But there's someone here who needs you."
     "What can be more important than helping you beat our enemies?"
     Apollo recognized the irony - Boxey said that God was winning
battles for them, but part of him still perceived that his dad was, in a
large part, responsible for their being there. As time grew on, Apollo
understood more and more that he wasn't the only one winning the fights.
He'd had just as much faith as his dad and son. But, there was something
about being a loving father that caused one's children to believe Dad
could do anything. He wished he had that kind of power, wished he could
keep things this way so his son wouldn't lose faith in him. And yet, as
time grew on, his son would realize he wasn't perfect. That's the only
problem with seeing your kids grow up, pondered the man. It humbles you
so much.
     He put his arm around his son. "Boxey, you have a friend out there
in the living room who needs you desperately. He can confide in you like
he's not comfortable confiding in an adult. You've feared the same things
he fears now - not having a father, losing all you know.
     Remember how our Wisdom and the Bible both say all things work
together for good to them that love God?' It might be that this is His
way of saying I brought you through this to be a comfort to someone else,
because you're the only one who can be.'"
     Boxey smiled sadly. "Well, they think he's gonna live," he
stammered, unsure of himself. Trying to sound less frightened than he
was, he explained. "I never worried about you dying as much as I just
wanted to be doing stuff with you."
     Apollo smiled sweetly. He knew that his son's faith meant he'd been
a little less scared than some would be. "I know you'll pray for us. And
now, you've got something to do. Be there for your friend. And," he
pointed out, "help bring in that harvest. You'll be helping to save that,
you know." Boxey gave a melancholy "ok" and hugged his dad and mom.
     Commander Adama felt a tinge of sadness as the shuttle lifted off
into space. It wasn't like he was leaving Earth for good, but still,
there was so much joy down there. In a way, he'd forgotten how much joy
there could be in having a planet to call his own. Oh, he knew Earth
would be fabulous, but there were hints it would be a Paradise when they
found it. However, their teachings had come from a time when Earth was a
pristine wonderland, with only a few million people. Descendants of one
Tubal-Cain had been the fathers of the twelve tribes, and in a way,
descendants of all mankind, as Tubal-Cain's daughter had married Noah.
     Now, they departed again, this time to rendezvous with the
Galactica. Starbuck had joined them, as had several others. Athena would
have, but even though the Kiroks were around, Apollo liked the idea of
having his sister there to help raise Boxey, if something should happen
to him. Besides, they still didn't know how the baby would handle space
flight, even with their protective shielding keeping them from feeling as
many g forces as normal.
     Apollo and Starbuck looked out the porthole together, scanning the
blackness of space. The dad considered how much like them Boxey and Jimmy
had become. "I bet those boys will be forgetting their sadness by
imagining great adventures up here," he told his friend.
     "Could be. From what I've seen kids that age have a great
imagination." Starbuck began to ponder his life on Earth. He and
Cassiopeia - Cassie to her Earth friends - had wed several months ago.
Now, they would be flying in the same squadron. He hoped he wouldn't have
to face losing her. Of course, his fear of loss had eased quite a bit
since landing on Earth; indeed, since finding Boxey's viper as he
returned from Earth through that wormhole. He'd learned that things could
get better. He'd built up some trust. And now? Now that he was departing
Earth, he felt more confident than he'd ever felt that he'd return. Not
because of his own flying skills, though he still had those. But because
of simple faith.
     Sheba chided Starbuck. "Any truth to the rumor Cassie's going to be
your second in command when you're Trimonthly Commander next time?"
     Starbuck laughed. "Not that I mind her getting out of the dangers of
flight," remarked the pilot as he held up a hand, "but we don't have
anything to do but look at space junk when we fly around up here
anymore."
     "Which is probably why we missed those Cylons," considered Apollo
seriously. "That is supposed to be part of our job, but we just got
complacent."
     "Hey, why should we expect them, we have enough trouble figuring out
how to get around all that space debris orbiting the Earth when we go up
and down," came the sarcastic remark from Starbuck.
     Adama held up a hand. "All right, you two, let's keep our focus on
the mission. They're obviously hiding their bases somewhere. My thought
would be one of the outer planets - or maybe int he asteroid belt." He
considered the wormhole they'd gone through to get to Earth. Presumably,
they'd gone through the same one. The prudent thing to do was to sit and
wait for a little while - the Galactica had hidden herself well on the
other side of the sun from Earth. If they hadn't seen any Cylons, they
also hadn't been seen. Therefore, they would also stun the Cylons by
appearing - while at the same time making sure they saw the "whites of
their eyes" first. Or, more accurately, the red dots moving back and
forth.
     The shuttle arrived in the docking bay, as Galactica and numerous
fleet ships closed to within several million miles of Earth. An
overweight man in his forties stretched out his hand almost as soon as
they departed and introduced himself. "I am Gunther, I understand you
only go by one name on this ship, so just call me that. You must be the
great Commander Adama, and Apollo, and Starbuck, and..." He thought for a
moment. His accent held a little German, it appeared. "Well, you are the
only famous ones."
     "Who are you," inquired Adama with more than a hint of annoyance.
All wondered just what this man was doing here.
     "What, Colonel Tigh didn't tell you? I'm from Switzerland, and I've
assisted for the last few months at the request of the U.N." He scanned
inside the shuttlecraft. "Fancy stuff! But don't worry - we Swiss are
always neutral, and so I won't tell any country of my observations. I
know nothing, I see nothing, and I hear noth-ing!" He grinned. "Okay,
let's see how much Earth trivia you know - what show's that from?"
     All but Apollo and Sheba were stumped. "Hogan's Heroes," the mother
blurted, "Boxey enjoys watching that show on reruns."
     "Ah, yes," Gunther exclaimed, eager to have some more fun with the
new arrivals. "And how is the little shepherd boy, the Galactica's David,
as it were; he didn't come, huh?"
     "No, he's tending the flock back home," Adama informed him bluntly,
considering that he'd made perhaps a wittier remark than Starbuck would
have. "Now, what is this about?"
     Gunther excused himself in a quite jovial manner. "Ah, a thousand
pardons. You see, the U.N. is in charge of the transfer, as you know.
Well, they had asked me to make sure everyone got settled nice and cozy
on Earth, but then they realized it was probably good to have someone
oversee and make sure nothing got sold to individual nations; you know,
sort of a Prime Directive from the planet's end, since you don't have a
United..."
     "...Federation of Planets," Starbuck finished with him. He turned to
Adama and explained. "Colonel Tigh told me since I'll be Trimonthly next,
I remember him from my last tour up here. He's legit, I can vouch for
that." Adama felt relived that Colonel Tigh was checking up for Starbuck
and able to watch Gunther over the last couple months, just in case. "And
it's a good analogy; we've tried hard not to interfere or change things
too much. I think the closest we could come is our best Triad player who
played so well at Iowa this year - he's a lot better defensively than
Durham, the Cubs could win a pennant in 84," finished the man.
     Gunther laughed the loudest they'd heard him. "The Cubs are
pathetic, they won't win in 84 or any year, no matter what you do." He
clapped his hands and reported "we have a few more vipers ready, and
guess who knows how to fly one. Those are so awesome!" The Swiss man felt
genuine excitement at being able to participate in such an endeavor. His
excitement level was catching, in a way, but it could also get on one's
nerves in a hurry. Especially if he didn't stop with the television
references, thought Adama to himself.
     "So you've used the flight simulator," Apollo asked as Adama wearily
beckoned them to the bridge.
     "Yes, and we've found at least two basestars, now that we've swung
around." Sheba gulped slightly. "They are in the asteroid belt."
     Adama announced a meeting of senior staff once Boomer arrived.
"Gunther..." He sighed. He'd have to see if he truly could fly, but he
knew they could use all the help they could get. "I guess you know what
you're doing, I guess you can come along. I will want to keep an eye on
you, just in case."
     "Fine, and don't worry, I know you know the stakes." All others
moaned as Gunther's face developed an ornery look and spoke in a whisper.
"The future of Earth is in YOUR hands!" He laughed at himself while the
others simply shook their heads.
     Adama convened the meeting at a large table in a conference room
near the bridge. "Colonel Tigh..." He didn't know what to say, so he
simply gestured toward the Swiss man. Apollo, Starbuck, Boomer, and Sheba
were also there.
     Tigh looked a little embarrassed. "Well, Sir, I thought he might
help, but didn't think he would be this jovial, this...well, just silly."
     "Hey, you have to enjoy life; stop and smell the mushies," remarked
Gunther.
     Adama glared at him. "There is enough time for that once we are
finished - but as you said, this is a very serious problem. I would
expect Boxey to make jokes like you."
     "Even he's mature enough not to make so many now," noted Apollo.
     Tigh decided to continue over the discussion. Yes, Gunther wasn't
thinking clearly about the severity of the mission, but Tigh did enjoy
the humor to some degree. Anything to beat the boredom one experienced
most days as Trimonthly. "Anyway, as I was saying Commander, you had
given orders not to be disturbed except in times of peril like this, and
I felt it best to honor those orders."
     "I understand, and at other times, I would likely not be so
concerned." It did feel good to have a fresh face on board. And,
Gunther's wit was good, when he wasn't referring to TV shows that the
commander had barely heard of, or saying things that sounded like they
came from hokey sci-fi flicks from the 1950s, such as his comments about
the "future of Earth." "It's just that we have come across what we feared
we would, and Earth has no extra defenses to aid us."
     Apollo inquired into the disposition of fleet ships. Boomer
explained. "We have several on the dark side of the moon, just waiting
there, in..." He chuckled, looking toward Gunther. "...in cold storage."
All giggled a little, though Gunther laughed out loud. "About 150 are in
different parts of Earth's system, manned by skeleton crews who are still
transferring them over to computer control - someday we'll be able to
control them all from Galactica." He smiled. This was Boomer's pet
project in his first tour as Trimonthly Commander, and he'd stepped up
the process during his second tour. "Should be totally feasible in a
about three more years, or yahren, whichever we use up here."
     "Years will do, Lieutenant. I believe we're all rather comfortable
now with Earth measurements," considered the commander aloud. "Though I
do find myself reverting once in a while. Sort of like an immigrant to
America who once in a while slips into the ways of the old country." Yes,
thought Adama, we're all just immigrants to Earth now. And yet, how much
of that "old country" was there? The battles with Cylons were far worse
than the hardships faced by those coming from strife-torn regions of the
globe to America. His studies of those immigrants had led him to explore
Ellis Island and the history surrounding it, and had led many who had
settled in richer nations to simply make up stories about "the old
country." But those were based on tales of World War One, and of the
Holocaust.
     He sighed. Yes, Earth had had its own Holocaust. Part of him still
pined for that legendary planet of their youth. But like an immigrant who
learned that America wasn't a chicken in every pot, a car in every
garage, he'd learned to make do, and still valued it greatly over what
he'd had before. Now, though, he faced a different dilemma. Now, they
would have to face what Earth lacked, and make up for it. He was thankful
that, like those immigrants, he had a faith to build on, when there was
nothing else.
     The others had spoken for several minutes, respecting the
commander's pensiveness. Now, however, a decision had to be made.
"Commander," came Tigh's slightly concerned voice.
     Adama looked startled for a second, being jarred back to the moment
at hand. It was so easy, and so fun, to get lost in his daydreams at
times like this. Daydreams that had always included a wonderful, peaceful
Earth. "Huh? Oh, sorry, Colonel Tigh, just daydreaming. What was it?"
"About the cannon, we have enough charges for about 15 bursts, but like
you've said, it needs to be used prudently." Adama nodded. "It uses a lot
of energy. Should we get the people ready to use it quickly here, or
wait?"
     Adama shook his head. "We need to see what we're up against first.
But, perhaps you can put crews on standby. How accustomed are you all to
vipers?" Apollo was rusty, but the others were rather good. "I want you
all out flying this afternoon. Gunther, once I see you can fly, if you're
that good, I'm putting you in Captain Apollo's squadron. He's one of the
best - him and Starbuck. You'll learn a lot from them." Adama gave a few
more instructions, then realized he was right back into his most familiar
role. As they left the conference, he patted Apollo on the shoulder.
"What is it the Earthlings say - just like riding a bicycle.'"
     Apollo grinned. "Yeah, it's going to be good, but I still wish I was
out exploring." And I will after Boxey's all grown. He sighed, staring
off into space.
     "Is something the matter," inquired Adama. Trying to guess what
bothered his son, he thought back to one of the last times he flew a
viper. "You know, it wasn't your fault Boxey launched and went into that
battle. And, he came back, after all."
     Apollo grinned. "Thanks, Dad. Actually, that doesn't bother me much
now, since he's safe on Earth." He struggled to find words for what he
wanted to say. "It's just that..." He shook his head. "We haven't done
too well protecting planets." His mind flashed back to Serina, and Zac,
and all the others he'd known who were lost. Don't let Boxey or anyone
else on Earth suffer like that, he prayed silently. "Sometimes I think
back to our own world, and..." He trailed off, deep in thought.
     The two walked in silence down to the viper hangar. "Apollo, that's
in the past." The commander faced him. "I don't know how this battle will
turn out, though I wish I could make some promises. I do know, however,
that you are still, despite your time off, one of the best pilots in our
history or Earth's. And while you yourself can't save a planet, you can
make a big difference."
     "What if they start firing on Earth..."
     "We have fleet ship to intercept such shots," noted the commander.
"Plus, they'll be mad at us, they should go for us first."
     "But what if they don't..."
     "Apollo," came the calming voice of the commander as he put a hand
on his shoulder. "I have concerns about that, too. And the people at the
U.N. are sweating bullets, I'm sure." He grinned. "But this won't be the
massive strike that occurred against our own world. There will be no
Baltar. And," he added, "we have something else. A little surprise we
picked up." Apollo raised an eyebrow as the commander spoke of some
"secret weapon."

Chapter Two

     "Don't know why there's no sun up in the sky. Stormy weather," came
Gunther's very bad singing as he, Apollo, Starbuck, and Boomer surveyed
the area. They hadn't run into any Cylon craft yet, but they knew raiders
likely stood nearby.
     Starbuck interjected. "On the other hand, though we're on the side
now facing away from the Earth's sun, you could argue that there are
billions of suns out here."
     "Touche," came Gunther's response. "But we better look out, soon it
could rain photon torpedoes."
     "All right, what's going on," wondered Apollo.
     "With what," Starbuck wanted to know.
     "Starbuck, Dad's right, Boxey doesn't even joke this much when it's
something serious; you heard me telling about how understanding he was
with Jimmy. And even you, you like to be sarcastic at times, but..." He
trailed off. "I think I spotted something." He went forward to
investigate, and soon the group was firing on a dozen Cylon raiders sent
on a reconnaissance mission, searching for the downed craft. To their
surprise, Gunther handled his viper rather well. Not flawless by any
means, but he was as good as any recruit.
     Apollo reported the problem. "I imagine they're after the downed
one," Adama noted.
     "Dad, should we give it back. I not only worry about you being a
hostage, but the Earth!"
     Adama nodded sadly. Flying over a world now seen as their own, he
knew their desire to defend it would be extreme. "Well, we're still
examining the Cylon and its craft. There should still be a little time -
remember, they haven't come looking till now."
     "Why not," Starbuck wondered aloud.
     Apollo had an idea. "Maybe they wanted to gauge Earth's response."
     "And as far as they can tell, Earth didn't do anything," commented
Boomer. "So hey know they don't have much defense. Either that or they
think the Cylons are friendly, and either way it's bad news." He sighed.
"I'm beginning to worry just like you, Apollo."
     Adama refused to accept that line of reasoning. "Let's not forget,
they did do something - from what the Cylons probably gather. They called
on us. So now, the Cylons know they can't attack Earth without going
through us."
     "But then why only..." Apollo began to think. Yes, it was too easy,
but that's how it had appeared one other time. And, the Cylons had
tricked them into letting down their guard. He wouldn't be fooled again.
"Everyone, be on the lookout for raiders, I don't want any slipups.
Commander, call out any available off duty viper pilots you can, we need
to make sure they don't try another sneak attack."
     Adama ordered Tigh to follow Apollo's suggestion. "Good call, I was
thinking the same thing. I'm also ordering us to alert status, and
requesting that several fleet ships be put between us and them, and also
for fleet ships to spread around the Earth, just in case. They don't have
weapons, but the Cylons don't know that."
     As the group searched for Cylon basestars, Starbuck spoke. "You were
asking about Gunther. Well, you might say he's a lot like me," he
explained.
     Gunther elaborated. "You know Earth's own Holocaust? Well, I was
made an orphan by the Nazis in Germany when they took my parents - would
have taken me, too, but I was hiding, and the Gestapo weren't yet looking
too hard for little kids; it was only 1939. I was only 3 at the time,
though. We were in Southern Germany, so I was sent via this Underground
group to Switzerland, and stayed in an orphanage for six years." He
sighed, not wishing to tell about how- with the millions of Jews having
been killed, and the casualties of war, he'd been one of the forgotten
ones, orphaned too early. Instead, he simply remarked "I learned early
how to make people laugh, and that if I pretended to be happy, at least
then everyone would laugh with me." "Were you ever adopted," Apollo
wanted to know.
     The question was too painful for him to elaborate - or even to
answer for the moment. "Well, I got out of there at fifteen and tried to
join the forces that protect the Pope. I was too young, and so I found a
role for me in some gangs, doing just petty things. My knack for comedy
told me I wasn't making people happy, wasn't makin' em smile with that,
so I turned to working for some of the UN's charities - Switzerland's so
neutral they're not even a member of the General Assembly, but they do
participate in lots of the charity work. WHO, UNESCO, you name it. It was
with the World Health Organization that I got connected to the Galactica,
settling people in and all that. Then, I got a chance to work up here,
and I took it - just as much to show off my humor as much as anything,
you might say, but I just love the idea of space flight."
     Apollo had begun to understand a little better - knowing how
Starbuck had suffered similarly helped. He still recalled the day
Starbuck put his own life on the line to save kids in an orphanage from
Cylon attack. And, he couldn't fathom being left an orphan like Starbuck
was - or like Gunther was. Indeed, the idea shocked him enough that he
never really allowed himself to think about it. Maybe that's why I never
gave it much thought about leaving Boxey, I never let myself think what
it would be like for him, he contemplated. And even now, after having
thought Boxey lost in the battle to get us to Earth, it didn't keep me
from going up again.
     The captain heard Sheba inquire about Swiss neutrality. "That's just
for against other countries," Gunther assured her. "As for this, this is
international. I'm sure we'd be able to beat em ourselves if we had to."
No, Gunther, he wanted to shout, wincing, you just don't understand.
These are killers, they murdered a whole planet. They make Hitler look
like a great humanitarian. They can't be reasoned with, and their
weaponry are far superior to anything on Earth.
     Still, though, human pride would want to fight, wouldn't it? We ran
for quite a while. And we won when we finally did fight. But it was
against great odds, and a miraculous victory. Could he count on that
again? He wasn't sure.
     Pastor Peter Henneman welcomed the congregation to their Sunday
night prayer meeting. "Does anyone have any prayer requests?" As
expected, Jimmy's hand shot up. "Yes, Jimmy," he said to one of the few
children there - most were in the church's small childrens' program. "How
was your father this afternoon? Sorry I couldn't make it there, I shall
be there to see hm tomorrow."
     "He's getting better, but he has to have another operation tomorrow
on his left lung." He added "there is one praise besides him coming out
of the other surgery safe - we have over three dozen coming to help with
our harvest at different times this week."
     The pastor nodded and gave thanks. "I know many of you are assisting
in this in some way, if not bringing it in by taking food or watching the
children at various times. This is the kind of thing that truly draws
God's people together, united in Christ's mercy, forgiveness, and
unconditional love. Boxey," he inquired to the uplifted hand, "do you
have a request?"
     Boxey didn't know what to say. He wished he could just spit it all
out right now - but what would he tell them? So much of it was so hard -
the intense worry, the pain of losing his mother, and so on. His dad had
been right that Jimmy needed him during this time, but he needed Jimmy
just as much. He continued to fear, even with all his faith and prayers,
that something could happen, and that the Kiroks may have to adopt him
after all. How did one put all those things into a few short words? How
did one ever understand? He still doubted he would ever totally
comprehend why his dad left like he did.
     Recalling a term used by someone who wanted theirs kept private and
didn't want people tiring a sick spouse out with visits, Boxey simply
said "an unspoken request." And it's a biggie, he thought to himself.
Several more added their own requests, and several deacons led the group
in prayer before the short sermon.
     After the service, Jimmy and Boxey went home with Mabel, Jimmy's
mom, and his siblings. "It's rough, isn't it," spoke Jimmy solemnly.
     Boxey remembered his planet. He chuckled slightly, as he recalled
being so upset that they couldn't find his dog, Muffy, leading to the
building of a robotic one for on board the Galactica. He hadn't cared
about much else at that time, and that occupied his young mind so much
that the pain adults must have felt was lessened. Of course, there was
the pain of losing his mother, then. Still, as he pondered the smaller
children, he opined "it may be easier for them, the things they worry
about are so much less important. They can't quite fathom something as
big as losing a father."
     "You're right, they don't think about it as much," noted Jimmy.
"It's easier to distract them."
     "As I got older I found I'd miss my dad more, wish even more that
he'd just stay at home. I think about both our dads, and what they're
going through." He shook his head. "Where would we be without faith?"
Like the faith that led us to Earth, he mused.
     Jimmy put an arm on Boxey's shoulder. "I know the feeling." He
heaved a hearty sigh. "The worst part is not knowing, isn't it." Boxey
nodded. "It's hard to think of our planet as a legend. If you knew it was
out here, even with so little information..." He trailed off, trying to
imagine what Boxey's people must have gone through. Anything to take his
mind off his dad.
     Boxey stood and gazed into space as the family emerged from the car.
Jimmy followed, the blackening canopy filling with little points of light
incomprehensible distances away. "It's so unfair. We found Earth like a
needle in a million haystacks," Boxey ruminated, "and yet we can't know
what's going to happen to our dads tomorrow." They silently stared upward
for several minutes before going into Jimmy's room to prepare for bed and
pray.
     Meanwhile, after a couple days of training, the Galactica's fighters
having shot down another couple dozen Cylons, the major attack began. Or,
rather, the first of several. One basestar, with over a hundred Cylon
fighters streaming from it, began moving toward Galactica from just
outside Mars' orbit. Another approached from a slightly different
direction, from behind Mars. Adama considered his options. He could move
the Galactica in position to be destroyed by both, let them power up
their weapons, and then quickly move it out, letting them destroy each
other. However, that appeared very unwise. It was taking a gigantic
chance when one more basestar remained, and it didn't even take into
account that the Galactica might not even move out in time.
     The power supply had been checked - they had enough power for a
dozen shots with the mighty p"pulsar cannon," as Gunther like to call it.
However, they drained so much energy, that even with a skeleton crew
preventing them from using lots of life support, they didn't have much
time to get the weapon ready, nor much strength to re-power it. However,
one shot would likely be needed early.
     As the klaxon sounded to tell Apollo and his crew to report to the
viper bay, Adama put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, son, I
remember all too well what happened before." The shudder he'd done a
moment before as he recollected the destruction wrought by the Cylons
vanished. His face became resolute, much firmer than Apollo recalled it
being. "I won't let them lay one hand on Earth."
     Nearly eighty vipers faced down the assaults from two hundred Cylon
raiders. "Don't let them get near, guys, I know what they're trying to
do," declared Apollo, "they want to set the Galactica on fire."
     "Filthy pyromaniacs," spat Gunther.
     Apollo swerved around to get through to the basestar. He fired a
couple potshots at the large landing strip of the Cylon craft before
Gunther warned him to look behind him. Two Cylons were on his tail. The
captain rapidly veered toward his right, as Gunther shot one of the
fighters, knocking out its guidance system. The other began to follow
Gunther, until Starbuck rushed his viper in and knocked both out. "Not
bad shootin'," Starbuck told Gunther. Another Cylon was on Starbuck's
tail, but Starbuck simply led it to the landing bay, then quickly swerved
upward, cuaing the Cylon to crash and explode before it had time to turn.
"Hey, that gives me an idea," said Starbuck. "Bridge, you there?"
     "Right here, what is it, Starbuck," Tigh inquired.
     "Hey, order an evacuation of a couple of the fleet ships, I wanna
try something."
     Adama raised his eyebrows. "Starbuck, what are you saying?"
     "Look, I think I can ram one of them into a basestar, but I think
I'll need a little help gettin' away," noted the pilot.
     Apollo, never one to miss a chance to do something daring, instantly
agreed to help. "I think I know what he means, but we oughta set it on
fire ourselves first. Any idea how we can do that?"
     Adama shook his head. This was getting ridiculous. And yet,
desperate times called for desperate measures. "We're powering up our
cannon' to hit that basestar coming from the other direction, they won't
suspect that. We just need a few minutes to get ourselves in position.
Then I'll think about it." Where is that other basestar, he asked
himself. Though we do have that secret weapon idea, I'd kind of like to
save it for the end.
     Apollo spoke as he shot at another couple of Cylons. "I hear you.
Boomer, lead a detachment to the other side of the earth, see if it's
trying to sneak around us. Have them scan up and down, too, in case
they're working on a different plane."
     "Hey, can I join them," Gunther wondered. "I getting sick of these
guys not behaving like the ones in Space Invaders. You know, nice little
rows."
     "Oh, go ahead," ordered Apollo, glad to be rid of the satirical
remarks for a little while. Maybe Starbuck likes them, but while I'm
flying I'd like to keep my mind on the mission. If I start to let my mind
wander with mirth, then I let it wander to other things. Like worrying
about Boxey. And that could affect my performance greatly. He reminded
himself to focus as he and Starbuck pondered how to use that fleet ship.
     Lt. Boomer led one group around Earth's northern pole to
investigate, while Sheba took another half dozen vipers to Earth southern
pole. "Gunther, this is Sheba," came the warning, "don't go out too far."
     "Aw, come on, what's another half million miles gonna do-" He
stopped suddenly and started shooting at random as a couple Cylon raiders
flew near him. Luckily, Sheba and the others destroyed them quickly.
"Well, I guess we know where the basestar is."
     "You picked a heck of a way to find out." Sheba called in their
positions as they returned to their starting point. "We think we've
spotted the basestar on the underside of Earth."
     "Commander," Tigh spoke on the bridge, "that part's not well
protected. And with all the problems we're having I don't know if we can
get down there."
     "Gun powered at 75%." Lights were staring to dim.
     Adama had a quick decision to make. "Sheba, how did you find out
about that - how close are they?"
     "Gun at 80%."
     "We're turned now in the direction of the one we want," came another
voice from the bridge crew.
     "Gunther wandered out too far, and almost ran into the Cylons -
well, he did, but we didn't let them get him."
     "Ninety percent." Most of the energy was drained into the weapon. If
only the vipers could hold on a little longer...
     Boomer flew down just in time to see a Cylon raider nearing the
viper bay. With one swift shot he destroyed it. No time for official
niceties, he told himself as he called on others to converge on that
area. Yes, it would call attention to what the Galactica was trying to
do, but hopefully it would be too late. A dozen vipers met another dozen
Cylon raiders. A swift battle ensued. In which the raiders were
destroyed, but not before a couple shots hit the Galactica, starting a
series of fires.
     The bridge rocked as the technician said "95%." Adama hollered "when
it gets to full power, don't wait for my mark, just fire!" He turned to
another. "How bad have we been hit?"
     "Fires in three different spots, we need that power to fight them."
     "Send firefighters, tell them hold them off as long as they can."
Adama fretted about being discovered by the third basestar. Not they it
didn't know where they were before, but there was a chance. And the way
ti was done - that Gunther had blown it big time. It was almost as bad as
Baltar's treason so long ago...
     Wait a minute, he thought to himself, stopping suddenly. "Baltar..."
snuck from his lips just before a gigantic burst of energy from the
battlestar. The burst sent everyone flinging around like a doll being
thrown around by a child. The fires grew more intense as Adama struggled
to get up, beset suddenly by a headache. He heard that the target was now
a heap of debris. We put an awful lot into that shot. I hope we survive
it ourselves, he considered.
     "Yeah, thank goodness Baltar's not around anymore," spoke Tigh as he
demanded status reports. Baltar had been killed in the last battle before
they reached Earth.
     "I mean, we use Gunther as another Baltar - buy us some time." He
pressed the comm panel with such force he feared he had broken it.
"Apollo?" After being acknowledged, Adama ordered him to send Gunther to
his quarters right away.
     Gunther approached cautiously as he entered the commander's
quarters. He wasn't sure what this was about, but knew that the Galactica
still needed as many viper pilots as they could get, even with the
destruction of one of the basestars. The entire ship was nearly dark, the
light from fires lighting things as much as anything. The Swiss national
acknowledged several people as he went past them, but remained focused on
what he might find waiting for him in Adama's quarters. He was shocked to
find the man quite grim. However, before he could say anything, the
commander spoke.
     "Gunther, are you familiar with our history?"
     "Well, sure," spoke the man, "I've been here enough and talked with
enough colonists to know..."
     Adama interrupted him. "Are you familiar with a man named Baltar?"
     Gunther paused a moment. He held up his hands and said "aw, now wait
a minute, if you're inferring that just because I went ahead of the other
vipers..."
     Adama rose, his head throbbing. "Gunther, I am not inferring
anything. I know that you know the stakes - if we don't stall for a
little time we're finished. And so is Earth." He pulled out a line from
the Bible, one he wished he'd known and been able to use on Baltar. Not
that he would have listened, he told himself grimly. "And what does it
profit a man to gain the world, but lose his immortal soul?"
     "Right, exactly," Gunther exclaimed, "I wouldn't sell Earth out for
anything."
     "Just making sure. Because I want you to pretend to be just such a
traitor as Baltar was." Gunther stared at Adama in shock. "Your comic
shtick is good; but how can you do drama?" "I...I don't know what to
say...You want me..."
     "It will buy us some valuable time to repair our damage. In that
time, you can deliver that bomb you brought - by the way, how did you
happen across one of those?" The commander was quite curious.
     "Let's just say a friend owed me a favor, and I thought you might
like to see one," Gunther explained.
     Adama sighed. Such crude, destructive weapons hadn't been seen since
early in the Thousand Yahren War. The planet's population had been
whittled down quite a bit by that, as the bombs became progressively
worse. Then, the Cylons came. So much had been destroyed by madmen, it
would be so nice to settle down to peace and tranquility.
     However, they'd learned Earth was anything but tranquil at some
moments of their lives. They'd had their own madmen, some of whom, if
given time, might have started such a disastrous war. Earth's own Second
World War had been bad enough. It had ended with a nuclear weapon. He
hoped they would end this, too. As much as he hated the reminder of his
own world's troubled past, he knew it had to be done. "I know those
weapons from even our own history - they would kill so many within an
instant, melt machinery, and so on."
     "I'd have to get in there awfully close, if you want me to..."
     "I want you in there. And the only way you can get around their
defenses to do it is if you are going in there to give them the keys to
Earth." He put a hand on Gunther's shoulder, resisting the urge to repeat
the Swissman's line about the future of Earth. "Think of it as getting
back against the Gestapo."
     A broad grin swept across Gunther's face. "We all have our own
private storms to go through, don't we. You fight like in Star Wars, and
I'm going to be playing in a very strange Hogan's Heroes. Maybe I'll even
take the name Papa Bear."
     "Don't, if that's an Allied code name you'll give yourself away."
Adama conceded that he was right about the storms. "Every planet has
them. If there's one thing this has shown me, it's that war and other
problems are human nature. However, there is also goodness that can come
out if we let it. Gunther, you and I are brothers. And one thing that
makes me respect you most is that you're willing to take on such a
dangerous mission as this."
     "What makes you know I'll accept?"
     "Because I know Lieutenant Starbuck. And he faced terrible
adversity, got in with the wrong crowd, and was going the totally wrong
direction, when he started as a fighter pilot. And when nobody else saw
good in him, I did. And I'd say I was a pretty good judge of talent." He
patted Gunther on the arm. "I don't know your history, except Starbuck
told me you were a child scared by the Nazis. But I've sensed a kinship
between the two of you. And I think that extends farther than maybe even
you realize."
     Gunther thought for a moment. "You can count on me, Sir." He saluted
and asked for instructions.
     Gunther considered what Starbuck had once told him about his
rescuing of youths from an orphanage at great risk to his own life. Yes,
he told himself, maybe Adama's right. We are a lot closer than I think.
He attempted to send out a signal from the weakened broadcast section of
the Galactica. Suddenly, the picture of a Cylon flashed on the screen.
Excusing the darkness, he said "my name is Gunther. I am a citizen of
Earth."
     "Earth will be destroyed," came the robotic voice.
     "Yes, but not without great loss to you." He strongly resisted the
urge to tell a joke. "Look, the Galactica has a new type of missile that
could melt a polar ice cap in no time."
     "We do not care."
     "I would like to give it to you - for a price." The connection was
shut off momentarily, only to be replaced a second later by an evil
looking fellow named Lucifer. He'd longed to have another Baltar - it
pleased him that Earth, too, had people willing to turn traitor. "I have
been instructed by the Centurion to ask you what you can give us."
     "I can hand over the Galactica - the commander trusts me completely.
As well as a missile that will melt the polar ice caps." He grossly
exaggerated the power of a nuclear warhead. "And, of course, this would
save you from many senseless Cylon deaths."
     Lucifer reported this to the gold Cylon, who quickly considered his
options. The attack would need to be halted for a short while. He didn't
know if he could trust this man. However, he knew that without him, there
was a slim chance - albeit very slim - that they could lose. They had no
more backups for many thousands of light years. They wanted to destroy
all humanity on the face of the Earth, as well as the Galactica. And to
do that, they would need to be sure of some help. So, after a while, it
was ordered that the Cylons should ask Gunther to name his price.
     Gunther smiled, hoping it looked evil enough. "Just halt all attacks
until I get there tomorrow afternoon, United States time. And I shall
turn over the keys to the planet." 

Chapter Three

     Adama met with the other chief leaders - Tigh, Apollo, Starbuck, and
Boomer - in the conference room later that night. It still felt odd to
him to see no change from day to night - everything had been the same for
so long. No wonder we were so awestruck when we first set foot on Earth,
he told himself. Indeed, perhaps I still am a little.
     President Adar, being one of the Trimonthly Commanders, and Gunther
had also shown up for this briefing. Having just explained to them the
reason for the lull in fighting, Adama asked if there were any questions.
"Seems a little risky, don't you think," spoke Adar.
     "Yes, I will admit it is an unusual move, but it has bought us some
time." He filled the others in on the nuclear weapon. "It should kill
most of those on the basestar, allowing us to destroy it later."
     "No offense, Gunther, but..."
     "None taken, Captain," came Gunther's quick response.
     Apollo was dumbstruck. "You don't even know what I was going to
say!"
     The Swissman's tone became vaguely somber as he related "when you've
had your parents taken out and shot by Gestapo right before your eyes
like I have, you better learn awfully fast not to be offended by little
things."
     "You may have lost a family," muttered Adama coolly, "but you've
never lost a planet."
     Apollo gave a "thanks, dad" look to the commander while completing
his thought. "We've had some pretty tough fights, like my dad says. I
just worry, what with our memories of Baltar, that this might be a trick.
I mean, how can we know..."
     "It was I who came up with the notion," noted the commander.
     "But only after he went out too far and alerted the Cylons to our
presence," Apollo retorted.
     "I have considered that, my son. Which is why I intend to go along
for the ride." Jaws dropped around the room. Even Gunther appeared a
little surprised. "As a hostage."
     "Dad, you can't..."
     "Apollo," Adama commenced, then turning to face the entire group
from his seat at the head of the table, "I have made a career out of
protecting our people. I said I would not allow them to lay one hand on
Earth, and I mean it. It is our home. It has been our goal from the
beginning." He folded his hands. "Some may think of this as a move not
befitting my normal pragmatism. However, I learned a lesson about faith
soon before we reached Earth. There is no practical' reason for it. It is
something which one has - and needs - to sustain themselves. Without that
faith in Earth, would we have been able to accomplish what we did? I
don't know. Sometimes, I really doubt it."
     "So you're going on an adventure, huh," spoke Gunther with a hint of
awe. "Not content to let your underlings do the fighting - you want to be
the big hero, huh?"
     The commander turned to Gunther. "Call it what you will - I can only
say that I will assist you. I feel I owe it to the people of Earth for
bringing the Cylons here." He sighed. "And, more importantly, to my
people and myself, to make sure these wicked Cylons are defeated." He
dismissed Gunther to have him make another contact with the Cylons before
going to bed.
     Once Gunther left, Adama pulled out from under the table a small,
black box with several buttons on it - three green and one red - all in a
row. It looked very unimpressive, until he hooked it up to a viewscreen
heretofore unused in the center of the table. As all gathered around,
they noticed Gunther's room. "What's that for," inquired Apollo, "making
sure he's doing what you tell him to?"
     Adama sighed. "There is a connection in Gunther's uniform as well.
It shall be monitored by you from the bridge tomorrow, Colonel Tigh."
     "What are the buttons for," inquired the genuinely curious colonel.
     Adama sighed. "I had our technicians connect this remote control
device to the viper and to the atomic bomb, in case we should need to
guide it manually. Colonel Tigh, if we are in any danger of being
betrayed - and I mean any danger - you are to press the three green
buttons in order three times, left to right as it faces you now." He
paused a second. "That is the self-destruct sequence. Then, you are to
press the red one. It will cause the viper and bomb to self destruct."
     Apollo couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Dad...I can't let you
risk your life..."
     "Apollo, you need to look at this way - I have great faith that
Gunther is sincere. It is merely a prudent move to ensure that Earth is
not touched. I would never ask you to press those buttons," he told his
son. "I understand it would be very hard. Even you, Colonel Tigh. If you
feel you cannot in good conscience do it, I will fully understand, and
leave it to President Adar. He shall be on the bridge with you, anyway."
     Tigh looked sorrowful for a moment as he considered their great
commander's acts. No, he hadn't fought the Cylons himself while they
traveled through space in search of a new home - of the legendary planet
called Earth - but his great leadership had inspired them all so much.
The thought of having to kill Adama to preserve Earth was shocking, but
they'd all vowed to give their lives for the colonists. Doing their duty
was difficult, but it had to be done. Even when that duty was very hard.
Finally, after several seconds, he slowly nodded his head. "I can do it,
Sir."
     "Good. I will also be available, presuming I am conscious, to fire
the weapon myself, should I need to. It will be a tight squeeze in that
viper, but we have build it to fit two people now. However, we will need
to get in very close, and there is always that danger." He proceeded to
inquire into Starbuck and Apollo's idea for destroying the third
basestar.
     Boxey and Jimmy rode their bikes home to Jimmy's house after school.
"Sure wish we could ride past the hospital," came Jimmy's voice. "The
teacher figured you were just as distracted by that as I was; it was a
good cover."
     "Yeah, I guess so." Boxey thought of the impending delivery. "I
wonder if Aunt Athena's havin' her baby yet, it's a shame my dad can't be
here to see that." Jimmy nodded. They rode past the farmhouse. "Well,
your dad's car's still there, and so's his truck. Guess not."
     "Let's ride out to the barn, drop off our bikes, and get some of
that silage in," suggested Jimmy. "I'll race you."
     Boxey yelled to the boy ahead of him "we didn't even listen to the
weather for today." He shook his head. Something tells me I'd better
follow him, thought the lad.
     Meanwhile, Bruce had overheard the boys talking near their garage -
he'd been searching for jumper cables and hadn't made it back out in time
to tell them Athena was in labor. Well, he said to himself, it figures.
First I go out to bring in some of the harvest early in case there's
heavy rain, right before she starts her labor pains. Then I get back and
nothing will start. Oh, well, if I can figure out what's wrong I can
still get her to the hospital before she's due.
     Adama and Gunther launched with little fanfare early that day. A
large missile - complete with several nuclear warheads - had been
fastened to the top of the viper. Adama seemed unfazed - everything did
appear to be on the level.
     Apollo and Starbuck had snuck away from a large group scanning the
area around the Galactica, and flown over to one of the fleet ships. They
noticed a few small lights that could only be the fires emanating from
inside Galactica herself. They were not out of control, but the energy
expended by the battlestar in destroying one basestar had meant there was
not much available to assist in fighting the blazes. Hence, the
firefighters had them only somewhat under control. Had there been winds
on board the ship, there would be much more danger.
     "We should be able to recover, but it'll take a while," Apollo
considered.
     Starbuck nodded. "Maybe till my next turn as Trimonthly. Thought
about how to start fires on the fleet ship?"
     "I think our best bet is to let the Cylons do it for us; they might
figure on attacking us with raiders for a while." He pondered aloud that
"we don't know what they'll think, though, so I guess we need to be ready
for anything."
     "Can we be sure to be able to get from the bridge back to the viper
bay," Starbuck wondered. "Because if we can't, don't worry about me, I've
done my part for our people. Cassie and I don't have kids yet, so it's
not like I have little ones to think about." He pondered all the times
when Apollo had sacrificed for him. He felt he hadn't really deserved the
chances, but he'd been given them anyway. He wanted to be able to return
the favor to someone.
     Apollo shook his head. "You and me are in this till the end, pal.
Together," he emphasized as the flew into the docking bay of one of the
colonial ships. They took a second to look around, sensing the emptiness
of it. "It's like a ghost ship."
     "When they said evacuate, they meant it." He looked into someone's
living quarters. It had been very cramped, as it was in all the ships.
They'd crowded in as many as they could, which meant disease spread
somewhat often. This family had lost someone in...he scratched his head
trying to recall the calculation method for converting their years into
Earth ones. "Apollo, this person died while we were going through the
wormhole. Probably one of the last things he heard was that Boxey had
returned safely, that Earth was right on the other side, and we were
going through." He saw a weakly scribbled note. It read "going to the
Promised Land."
     Apollo gazed into the eerie flat. "It'd be fun to take this," he
muttered. "But we left so much behind on our old world. And every one of
these places has a story to tell."
     Starbuck concurred. "I never really wanted to think about my own
past, but...yeah, I guess even I did."
     The captain put a hand on his shoulder. "I know. Funny they didn't
take this. New beginning, I guess."
     "Maybe they wanted a memorial for the person in space," guessed the
lieutenant. "He got to see our Promised Land, even if he didn't cross
over." He once again voiced the desire to take the note, if nothing else.
     "Let's let it be - as a memorial to those who suffered from the
Cylons. He'll have had a part in destroying them." Apollo gently took
Starbuck by the arm and led him away, thoughts of the lonely message
echoing in Starbuck's mind.
     The men made their way to the bridge, slowly turning the ship around
and starting it on a direct course toward the basestar. If all worked out
well, Adama and Gunther were getting themselves in position to devastate
the third and final basestar, and trying to convince the Cylons for as
long as possible not to send fighters to attack their fleet ship. If
things weren't going so well, well...they refused to think about that.
They couldn't' stand to ponder that. Though he knew Apollo didn't like to
cause himself worry by thinking of his family at these times, he asked
"think Boxey's having fun down there on Earth?"
     Suddenly, Cylon ships began attack the fleet ship with ferocity.
What's happened, Apollo wondered as the ship was rocked intensely. Apollo
and Starbuck were tossed about like poorly build structures in a giant
earthquake. There better not be much movement from that basestar, because
I don't think we can stay here much longer. Apollo pulled Starbuck away
just before a computer console blew up, and they rushed off the bridge.
"Probably something a lot more peaceful than we are," he muttered as they
ran, hoping the viper bay was still intact.
     Boxey caught up to Jimmy as he was pulling a tractor out of the
barn. He scanned the skies as gray clouds began to come from the west.
Not being too numerous, he said "yeah, maybe we can get a little done."
     "May as well, it'll take my mind off my dad." Boxey also got into
the tractor, and the boys began to go out to load it with corn to be used
as feed for animals. "Not many people know only 15% of corn grown is
grown for human use as food," Jimmy remarked. "So what do you think your
dad's doing now?"
     "I often figure it's so much fun out flying in space. Yeah, he says
it's dangerous, but still..." He halted, his mind on numerous events.
"It's not all great, but it's gotta be fun and exciting."
     Boxey and Jimmy began to unload the crops from the tractor into the
silo. Pulling the tractor up to the hay and corn grinder in the
ever-increasing rain, Jimmy asked Boxey to slide the door open. "We're
gonna do this now, no sense waiting," he cried out. As the door slowly
opened, Boxey suggested they wait. That machine look quite foreboding.
"Yeah, that's for silage," Jimmy explained. "It's just a PTO. You guys
have one, right?"
     "Yeah, but in this weather..." He backed off slightly. Something
reminded him of Apollo's warnings about fighting the Cylons. Normally,
except for a couple times, he'd had trepidations about anyone going out
there. And he'd never tried to fight Cylons in the rain. "It's raining
harder."
     The wind howled. "Aw, it'll let up. Here, get on the tractor, and
back her in. If your aunt starts in labor they might be rushin' her to
the hospital, right?" Yes, it was true. "So, this harvest's gotta be
done. Can't put these things off." Boxey reluctantly agreed. "And I've
done this before, it ain't like driving a car or nothin'."
     Driving the tractor reminded him of the flight simulator on board
the Galactica, in some ways. He'd tested it during dangerous conditions,
but no simulator could prepare him for the rigors of driving a tractor in
an increasing downpour. This could be classified as a storm now, as
thunder rumbled in the distance. "I don't like the sounds of that," he
called out.
     Jimmy loaded the silo a little, then had Boxey help from the tractor
while he worked on the hay grinder. He stopped to inspect the clouds; the
thunder was getting a little louder, and now he thought he saw lightning
- he didn't want to be around this machinery if that was coming. Jimmy
climbed up the ramp, showing off by trying to crawl off the back of the
machine instead of off the side like he should. The machine was still
pulling the silage into the silo and processing it as he reached the top
and grabbed the tractor. "Yeah, maybe we better..." Boxey heard no more
words, only a bloodcurdling scream.

Chapter Four

     Boxey quickly glanced behind him to see the machine starting to pull
Jimmy into it. "Jimmy!" he cried. He tried his best to climb up onto the
enormous tractor wheel, constantly fighting to maintain his grip as Jimmy
held on for dear life to the tractor. He could tell the problem - the PTO
had grabbed Jimmy's pantleg. Jimmy was quickly losing his grip as things
got wetter and wetter. Boxey's junior junior class warrior skills kicking
in, he ordered Jimmy to lock his arms. The boy was having trouble just
gripping the tractor, though. Boxey pulled himself to the top of the
wheel and dove headfirst into the silage in the tractor, just grabbing
onto Jimmy's arm as the boy lost his grip on the tractor.
     Boxey gritted his teeth and locked his arms. "Keep yer arms
straight," he said as he tried to pull Jimmy out of the machinery with
one arm, keeping hold of the tractor with the other just in case. The PTO
was already pulling Jimmy's pants off, and Boxey feared it might have
part of Jimmy's leg, too, until lightning illuminated the site for a
split second. It didn't yet, but it was close. An enormous clap of
thunder followed. Had Boxey been counting "one thousand one..." like he
normally did, he would have known it was only two-fifths of a mile away.
     Boxey's gums hurt from gritting his teeth so hard. He feared that
the equipment could suck him in, as well. He said a quick prayer, as the
thunder and lightning moved closer. He still couldn't believe how dark it
got during a thunderstorm. He fought to maintain his grip on Jimmy's arm,
considering using two hands, then remembering he could be pulled in
himself by the machine's might. He heard a rip as he scrunched his eyes
shut, and suddenly the immense pull slackened off considerably. The PTO
had pulled Jimmy's pants right off of him.
     The battle was not yet over, however. Boxey now used his second hand
to pull Jimmy up, then scatted some of the silage around, hoping to use
some to dry off the equipment. It couldn't soak up water near fast
enough, however, as the rain continued to tumble down. Now, Boxey was
slipping, forcing him to regain his grip on the tractor with one hand.
Both boys' muscles ached considerably. Finally, Jimmy had a firm grip on
the tractor, and pulled himself up, with Boxey's assistance. They both
slid down it and raced away from the metal and the silo, panting heavily.
The lightning cracked again as they dove - this time the boys didn't even
have time to think "one thousand," and a streak of lightning filled the
air as they dove to the ground, endeavoring to be in the lowest place
they could.
     Despite the torrent of rain drenching them, Jimmy found time to grin
broadly while catching his breath. "Thanks. You saved my life." He
shuddered as he considered the danger.
     Boxey shook his head. Those thunderstorms sure do pop up fast on the
plains, mused Boxey. "My dad and Starbuck cannot possibly be facing
anything like this," he thought out loud.
     Apollo had stepped up the speed of the fleet ship to maximum. They
hoped they weren't spreading themselves too thin - there still had to be
vipers protecting them from Cylon raiders, plus some attacking the base
star they were going toward as a diversion. They couldn't tell how many
raiders had damaged the fleet ship, but only a couple had done incredible
damage to the mother ship once. "This is what I call a firestorm,"
Starbuck announced.
     "And they think those Midwestern thunderstorms are bad," considered
Apollo, recalling the fiery destruction of their planet. As they grabbed
whatever they could and wet it, trying to race through the flames, the
shock came back to life for both of them. The ship careened through
space, and rocking greatly intensified because of it. Apollo ran ahead a
little ways when Starbuck tripped, rolling and hitting a wall as the ship
reeled. He quickly ran back to pull him up, trying to fight the flames.
     Their vipers were safe, but just barely. They needed to turn them
around on the platform themselves, which they managed to do with some
effort. Once they sped off, Apollo ordered that they be ready for
anything. The ship continued to rock, and Starbuck put his hands on the
"fire" button as his viper flew into space. Apollo did likewise. Several
Cylons were nearby, but thankfully were too surprised to see the lone
vipers. Apollo and Starbuck destroyed them with ease. "Let's get going,"
cried Apollo, "and make sure that basestar can't get too far." The fleet
ship appeared like a fiery meteor as it streaked toward the Cylon base
ship.
     Meanwhile, Tigh listened and watched from the bridge, the black box
in his hand. Gunther was flying with Adama, announcing that he was
bringing the hostage in for "questioning." Adama noticed that the
basestar looked ready to launch several flights at the South Pole. We
need to make this one good, pondered the man.
     "Why have you brought him," asked the Cylon. "You said you had the
keys yourself."
     Gunther spoke as the viper prepared to approach the landing pad. Any
shields were down. "True, but I only have so much access. He will provide
you with more, if you question him enough," came Gunther's evil-sound
laugh. Tigh, slightly nervous as he heard this, pushed the first green
button for the first time. He didn't let up on it, though. Adama had
allowed himself to be a hostage once before, and it had worked out all
right. However, the notion still disturbed him.
     "Is that the weapon," came Lucifer's voice. Tigh could tell Lucifer
was licking his chops.
     "Yes, very shortly we can provide you with a demonstration." What
are you waiting for, Tigh wanted to shout. He tentatively released the
first button and pressed the next two in sequence, just in case. Don't
make me have to do this, he thought to himself.
     Finally, a door opened in the basestar which would allow the viper
to enter. Instead of entering, Gunther fired the nuclear missile, and
began to fly around after it. A voice saying "we have been tricked!" was
heard seconds before the impact, which turned the vast majority of living
quarters into hollow shells, thanks to the intense heat and radiation.
This was now a basestar with nobody to launch anything.
     Adama grabbed the controls from the shocked Swissman and pulled
upward, causing the viper to turn at a ninety degree angle. It had been
so long since Adama had flown one of these things, he hoped he remembered
how. The ride quickly smoothed out as he suddenly found himself and
Gunther flying through a wave of Cylon ships more intent on escaping the
drag from the nuke than on hitting the viper. That didn't last for long,
but luckily, Sheba had arrived with a dozen vipers to help out. However,
they quickly fled back to the Galactica, sensing they were outnumbered,
with Adama in tow.
     Now, they faced another problem. The Cylon warriors would flee to
the third basestar. Adama ordered that several vipers go back to destroy
the bombed out battlestar. As they did so, he gave Tigh the all clear
signal. "How is our other friend' doing?"
     Finally over his shock, Gunther said "with friends like that, who
needs enemies?"
     Tigh informed him that the fiery fleet ship was under severe attack.
"Gunther couldn't convince them not to strike there. However, Apollo and
Starbuck made it out safe, though they're still in a heap of trouble."
     "We're on our way there," came the commander. He let Gunther fly for
a while.
     The Swissman grinned. "You did really well, Commander. I'd be happy
to let you fly in the battle."
     "I was hoping. It will be my pleasure," came the contented voice. He
could only smile for a moment as he heard Tigh report that the basestar
was charging up its own weapons.
     After a few minutes of waiting for the thunder and lightning to slow
down, Boxey offered Jimmy his trousers. "Here, take mine, so you don't
catch cold."
     Jimmy held Boxey's hand to keep him from unfastening his pants. "No,
please, I'm already soaked, it wouldn't help." He emitted a "phew" and
admitted reluctantly "besides, it's my fault that thing almost turned me
into mushies." He grinned proudly; Galactica terms were becoming as
familiar for him to use as Earth ones were for Boxey.
     Boxey looked up - it was lightning less and less. "Come on, let's
go." He gazed off to the west. "Hey, that's a funny looking sky over
there."
     Jimmy looked up. "Uh-oh," he spouted nervously, "come on, let's go
to the barn."
     "Why the barn - we're already soaked, we may as well run to the
house, I'll race you."
     Jimmy held Boxey's arm. "You ain't never seen that kind of a sky?"
He hadn't - even Cylon attacks from when he was little didn't remind him
of that kind of a cloud formation. And he'd always ducked into an
interior room when the weatherman said to. "Well, that looks like it's
gonna make a funnel cloud. And you know what that means - a tornado."
     "...The National Weather Service has issued a tornado watch
effective until 7:00 PM for Woodbury, Cherokee, and Plymouth Counties..."
Bruce Kirok grumbled as Athena let out a yelp of pain. It wouldn't have
been very wise to go out when thunderstorms were threatened, he told
himself, especially worrying about the kids. Now, it was worse. Well,
with all that thunder and lightning, he posited, they probably ducked
into the barn or the silo - preferably the barn, since there would be
less equipment with the horses. But now? He hoped Jimmy knew what he was
doing.
     Bruce continued to help Athena breathe as the labor pains increased.
"Mabel and the kids are missing all this," he said to himself. "They're
at the hospital right now with Harry, and we're the ones stuck here." He
tried once more to persuade his wife to get into the car - the thunder
was letting up and it was brightening some. Maybe they could still make
it.
     "Are you crazy, with that thunder and lightning," she screamed.
Woman's probably right, Bruce considered. Once it started lightning, it
was safer to stay here until that whole system passed. "Besides, Boxey's
not back yet."
     "You said Boxey was a warrior junior junior class," Bruce noted.
     "He trained to fight Cylons, not tornadoes-AAAAAHHH, there's another
one!" Brace checked his watch. The pains were bunching together. He moved
Athena into a bedroom in the interior of the home. "Get out there and
watch for Boxey!"
     "Hey, my nephew's in this, too, he'll know what to do. Besides, you
can't deliver your own kid," came the insistent remark.
     "I'm sure it's happened in the history of one of our planets,"
screamed the woman as she pushed him away.
     Not knowing what to do, Bruce wandered out to the living room just
as the Emergency Broadcast System warning came on again. Bruce glanced
outside as he heard "...a tornado warning for Woodbury County - this mean
a funnel cloud has been sighted, you are advised to seek shelter in a
basement or low lying area or interior room..."
     "And there it is," mumbled Bruce. "I don't think Athena's going to
like this." And I'm starting to dislike it pretty much myself.
     Jimmy and Boxey pulled open the barn door as a large gust appeared
to shake the building. As Boxey ran to the center of the barn, he noticed
rain coming through. "We better get under the hay loft," he announced.
"Your roof's leaking."
     Jimmy looked up. "What roof?!" He ran to the loft where Boxey was
and pulled him out from under it as another gust blew and rattled the
loft. They both wondered if that might collapse next. "Let's get Missy's
horse," he declared, opening the stall as more rain came in - the roof
was almost half gone.
     "What about ol' Bessie here," Boxey wondered of the cow the family
used for milk.
     "You can't ride a cow!" came the insistent comment, laced with
giggles.
     Boxey grinned while shrugging. "Hey, I'm not from this planet,
remember," he kidded Jimmy. The boys laughed, and he was asked if he'd
ever ridden a horse. "Not really - except for the pony rides at the
fair."
     "Well, hop on." Boxey was helped into the saddle, and Jimmy got
behind him. They walked the horse out the barn door and Jimmy gave him a
little kick in the side. "Giddy up!" The horse began to gallop toward the
farmhouse. "Now, hold on tight, cause it might jolt you if there's a big
clap of thunder."
     Unaccustomed to the rough ride, Boxey said "I-I-it's jolting me-e-e
alrea-eady." What I wouldn't give for a nice, smooth viper right about
now.
     "Speak for yourself, I don't have much padding back here, remember."
Jimmy glanced behind them; the wind was picking up speed, blowing rain in
their faces now. He held tightly to Boxey as the boys and the horse
playfully romped through the mud, trying to reach the farmhouse before
the tornado gathered a full head of steam - and, in Boxey's case, trying
to steer the animal.
     Boxey laughed, imagining the fun he thought Apollo and Starbuck must
have out in space. "Say, this is fun, maybe I could return the favor, and
get my dad to take you up in a viper sometime."
     Jimmy turned his head once more and shuddered. He gave Boxey a
playful slap on the shin and said "what makes you think this is fun?!"
They quickly rode up to the door, then Jimmy realized he didn't have
anything to tie the horse to the house. "Let's walk him inside."
     Bruce had been in the bedroom with Athena when he heard the boys
entering. "Thank goodness you're safe," he said as he walked out to see
them, "we're about to deliver your cous-Where are your pants, young
man?!?"
     "I'm gonna get some on right away." He ran into the bedroom as he
ordered Boxey to park the horse.
     "Boxey..." Bruce was interrupted from telling him to put the horse
outside by a scream from Athena. Boxey dropped the rope he'd grabbed to
run into the bedroom, leaving Bruce to groan and shake his head as he
tied the mare to the door handle and ran in with Boxey. "This is crazy,"
he muttered. "We were worried the kid would never believe his mom's
history - he'll never believe his own birth story!"
     Adama cringed as he heard about the powering up of the weapons.
"What's it aimed for?" And don't let it be Earth.
     "We can't tell, Apollo and Starbuck are trying to get a closer
look."
     Starbuck looked at the basestar, noticing the same thing on his
sensors. Turning his viper around, he said "I'm going back to change the
fleet ship's course."
     "Don't do that, you're crazy," Apollo told him. "You can't get a
viper in there now." He thought about flying after him, but hesitated.
Going int here was suicidal, and he knew it. He needed to be out
defeating the other Cylons.
     Starbuck sensed it too as he raced closer. No, there was no way he
was going to be able to fly that thing anywhere, let alone into the path
of the laser gun the battlestar had. "What about another fleet ship?"
     Adama nixed that idea. "Thought about that, can't evacuate in time.
Tigh, can you move the Galactica? It might be headed for you."
     Apollo glanced at the path the fleet ship was taking. "Everyone,
let's go fire on the fleet ship on my mark - 3...2...1...now!" The Cylons
were befuddled as the vipers evaded them and went to fire on their own
fleet ship.
     "What is the meaning of this," inquired a Cylon to the leader of
that basestar as the Cylon ships from the disabled basestar flew toward
the lone active basestar. No answer could be found.
     Even the humans were dumbstruck until they realized that the fleet
ship's trajectory would now keep it from ramming the basestar. However,
they obeyed Apollo's command, and soon the large ship was exploding near
the basestar, damaging several dozen Cylon fighters and raiders as the
vipers flew out of the way of the blast.
     "Good thinking, Apollo," shouted Adama, "now let's go get them."
     Tigh reported that the second basestar had been destroyed. However,
they still had some serious maneuvering to do. A basestar versus a
battlestar was not a bad matchup, but versus a wounded battlestar the
Cylons held a clear advantage. And, this battlestar needed to be
protected. Yes, it was possible that the fleet ships which traveled to
tell others of Earth would run across the Pegasus or some other
battlestar. However, there was no guarantee of that. If another Cylon
basestar came, Earth faced serious problems. They had been awfully lucky
to defend Earth thus far with only one battlestar - and even now, Earth
wasn't totally out of the woods. Suppose the basestar fired one shot,
then retreated to fight another day? Suppose it tried some trickery to
attack Earth later? Suppose that there was another basestar coming? It
wasn't likely, with the wormhole having broken up, but one never knew.
     Tigh therefore ordered the battlestar moved as best it could, with a
fleet ship ready to bear the brunt of an attack if the weapon fired.
However, he knew that the basestar's later would cause some impact on the
Galactica, as well. "Any change of getting that cannon loaded again,"
Adama thought out loud.
     "We'd be able to do it at 50%, but we'd be wasting a shot pretty
much. Plus, we'd lose most of the inroads we've made against the fires."
     That's what I figured, he told himself. I just have to hope they can
stop that basestar first.
     Adama and company were making inroads on that, but it was still a
very rough battle. Cylon ships appeared to be everywhere. They used
several that had been rendered unusable by the blast as shields, but
these soon were destroyed by other Cylons. "We need to figure out some
way to get this base star out of here," grumbled the commander. "Any
suggestions?"
     Apollo thought for a moment. The battle raged on intently, though,
preventing him from thinking too much. "I guess we just have to let them
fire once, and then..." He thought a minute. "The Cylons will have to get
out of the way while that weapon fires, right?" They would. "Starbuck,
you and me are gonna try to fire inside that laster pit right after it's
done. It's gonna be close, but I think we can do it."
     Adama agreed, and when Gunther insisted on helping, he decided he
would do it, too. "We'll need all the help we can get. Colonel Tigh, if
there's part of the Galactica which could be threatened, evacuate all
people from that section and seal it off - we want a vacuum on those
parts. If there's anyone trapped, there, don't bother, we'll let them
have a chance." He ordered Sheba to be close to the Galactica to try and
help put out the fire. "Apollo, you can go too, Starbuck can fly this..."
     Apollo knew Adama was thinking of Boxey. Yes, that's a fault of
mine, I know, he said to himself, but right now there is a battle to be
won. And I consider myself the best pilot. Besides, as he told Adama,
"Everyone's been talking about faith. I should show some in being able to
win this fight. I know you'll take good care of me."
     The maneuvering complete, Apollo and Starbuck flew dangerously close
to the laster blast from the basestar, Adama and Gunther following close
behind. "If there was wind in space I'd say we felt the breeze," the
Swissman declared.
     "You haven't seen anything yet." As the vipers fired on the
basestar, the Galactica was recovering from being rocked by an explosion
and debris from the ravaged fleet ship. Colonel Tigh was close to
ordering an evacuation of the battlestar, though he chose not to. It
appeared as if the entire ship had been rocked by a series of magnitude 8
earthquakes. He wished they could have gotten more of the skeleton crew
out of that fleet ship, but sadly they hadn't. He shook his head. The
Cylons just never stop taking lives, he muttered to himself.
     Destruction was rampant around the basestar. The blast from the
Galactica had practically taken off the top half of the other one - this
one was losing bits and pieces, but still boasted quite a few defenses.
The viper fire was enormous, but it had to be - the number of Cylons had
only now been whittled down to the same number as that of vipers.
     "We've done about all we can," spoke Adama. "It's offensive capacity
is practically nil now." "Sure you don't mean we should back off and let
them go," spoke Apollo.
     "No, "calmly spoke the commander. "We have a trump card, if the
damage isn't too bad. Colonel Tigh." The call was acknowledged as the
vipers returned to regroup, refuel, and reload. "Do we still have a
functioning viper bay or shall we land elsewhere?" It worked. "Good. How
about our guest?"
     "Just like last time, we've been able to get it working," he said of
the Cylon which had crashed on Earth. "But we've erased all memories of
Earth and figured out the programming."
     Gunther clapped his hands. "Wow, that's great, so you can..." He
paused a minute. "What can you do?"
     Adama explained. "We'll let them lick their wounds, then tell them
we have this Cylon - they've probably forgotten all about him. And when
he goes back..." The commander smiled, not wishing to reveal anything
until he knew for sure it was still viable. The operating facilities had
to be a big mess.
     Tigh met them down in the recovery area. "Like you say, Commander,
they probably have forgotten about it. Gunther never heard anything about
it."
     "I suspect they think they found it on Earth, and are studying it
there. We need to keep enough vipers out there to make sure no Cylons go
looking for it, though as I suspected, they are mostly worried about us."
He grinned. "And with good reason. I hate to waste a good viper, but this
is too good to pass up." He activated the Cylon. "State your goal."
     The Cylon responded. "To destroy Cylons." The red dot was moving as
normal.
     "When will you do that," asked Adama, "and how did you get out?"
     "By getting into the basestar, planting explosives, and detonating
them. I escaped a holding cell and stole a viper."
     They sent the viper on its way with the Cylon. He was received as
expected. After a number of questions, he was allowed to get back to
flying a Cylon fighter. He scanned the landing bay looking for
"saboteurs," but was really planting explosives on as many ships as he
could. Once spotted, he pressed a button, and he and dozens of Cylons
blew up.
     Having spotted this from a distance, Apollo swooped over to the
shocked Cylons with dozens of others, and began firing on the Cylons and
the basestar. Within an hour, the basestar was battling heavy fires. The
Galactica wasn't in much better shape, but it could be salvaged. It would
take a while, but for now, they had no more worries. The basestar was
destroyed. All breathed a sigh of relief. Gunther whooped and hollered
all the way back to the viper bay. "I'm a real live space cadet now," he
exclaimed.
     As Bruce tied up the pony in the kitchen, he heard Jimmy explain "I
got my pantleg caught in the PTO."
     Bruce grabbed his heart for a second. "Oh, thank goodness you're
okay - what happened?"
     "Long story, but suffice to say, Boxey rescued me, and it was real
scary." He winced as they walked into the bedroom. "And ridin' that horse
back wasn't much more fun." His dry pants were already getting somewhat
soaked from the inside out. Jimmy grinned as he knelt beside Boxey, on
Athena's left. Both considered the miracle of birth - they were thrilled
to be able to share such a momentous occasion. "Need Boxey and me to do
anything?"
     Bruce knelt on Athena's right as another labor pain shot through
her. His mind now totally off the boys - whatever Jimmy went through was
probably scary enough he didn't need much punishment, just a good lecture
later would do - he prepared to deliver Athena's baby himself. "Get a
towel and some warm water, Jimmy. Boxey, I need you to boil some water to
sterilize a couple things and be ready to check the umbilical cord's not
wrapped around the baby and cut it later - you've got experience with
cattle, don'tcha?" He did. "Good, it'll be kind of the same." They ran
off to do these and a couple additional chores, and returned moments
later.
     Athena began to breath heavily. Boxey held her hand as the house
rattled - he prayed that the ceiling not cave in, as he feared it might.
The tornado already had taken their barn roof. It felt as though a
freight train were rumbling directly overhead, and he considered that the
shaking could possible assist in Athena's pushing. "Just shift when the
house does," he suggested.
     "You expect me to follow this weather, it's crazy...unnnnnhhhhh,"
cried Athena.
     Bruce positioned himself to take the baby upon delivery as Boxey
agreed. "We didn't have weather like this on our old planet, did we?" The
whooshing had grown intensely.
     "IT CAN'T BE THIS BAD ANYWHERE IN THE GALAXY," screamed the mother
to be as the loud rain continued to pelt the windows and the roof and she
pushed again. "AND OUR LEGENDS CALLED THIS A PARADISE?!?!"
     Suddenly, amidst the torrent, a loud cry was heard, as the baby
emerged in his dad's arms. Jimmy quickly wiped him off, and Boxey checked
the umbilical cord to ensure it wasn't wrapped around the baby. It
wasn't. "Congratulations," Boxey shouted. "It's a boy!" Athena exhaled
deeply, exhausted, as they finished wiping off the child and handed him
to her.
     Apollo, Starbuck, and Adama met on the bridge after the mammoth
battle. The fires were barely under control. They had to hope there
wouldn't be any more Cylons for months, but it would survive. At least my
tour won't be dull as Trimonthly Commander, pondered Starbuck. "Earth
just doesn't know how close they came, huh," the captain mused.
     "Aw, we had it in the bag," Starbuck declared. He gazed out the
window. "They were no match for Gunther's impersonation of Dr.
Strangelove with that missile, practically riding it down their throats."
     "Gunther's," came both men at once.
     "Yeah, I'd told you about the bomb, Commander, but I guess I never
said who originally had the idea." He grinned. "And to think that after
World War Two, the next national in Earth history to fire a nuclear
weapon was Swiss!"
     Adama nodded. "Yes, quite clever." The thought of Earth made him
sigh. Such a wonderful planet, despite its problems. Nobody deserved to
suffer such terror as they'd witnessed, did they? The beautiful blue ball
with white swirls reminded him so much of his own world. And his crippled
battlestar - one in a fleet which used to number many more - was the only
one which could protect it if they came again. "Though we have to realize
they could return someday."
     "It'll be a while, with that wormhole destroyed now," contended
Apollo. "Enough time for us to help Earth build her arsenal. Maybe do
some weapons development."
     "And, we've got the fleet ships out scouting, they might return with
the Pegasus or some other battlestar," acknowledged Adama.
     Starbuck was mentally trying to fit Cylons into the book of
Revelation. He considered a few places where they could hve been
prophesied. And with the Galactica so swamped with damage, and repairs
being so slow in coming... "Oh, well, we know the good guys win. They
always do." "You and Gunther are two of a kind," Adama told him, shaking
his head. " The good guys always win.'" Then again, he told himself,
maybe in the back of my mind, I, too, had that sort of faith. Except, for
me it isn't parodying TV shows and movies the way Gunther's lines were.
     Starbuck put an arm on Apollo's shoulder. "Yeah, but nobody can beat
my buddy Apollo when it comes to fighting space invaders.' Unless they
come in neat little rows like in the arcades." The trio laughed. "Think
Boxey and Jimmy had as much fun as we did, buddy?"
     "Oh, I'm sure it was probably nice and peaceful for them. But I'm
sure they found soemthing fun to do. Let's go home and see em." The group
went down to the shuttle bay to depart.

Epilogue

     The shuttle landed at the Kiroks' with Adama, Apollo, Starbuck, and
Sheba departing. Earth seemed almost better this time around than the
first time they'd landed. Boxey and Jimmy ran out to join them, quickly
hugging everyone. "You made it, Mom, you made it, Dad!" shouted Boxey.
     "Yes, we did," came Apollo as he hugged the boy. "You were right.
God won the battle - but we helped." As long as he could, he wanted to
keep that aura of being able to do anything. It was a part of fatherhood
he treasured. "How's your dad, Jimmy?"
     "Lots better, he should be able to get out in a couple weeks." They
began to walk back to the farmhouse. "Oh, and Uncle Apollo, you are now
the uncle of a baby boy. James Zachary. First name has been in my family
a long time, Aunt Athena says Zac was your brother's name." Apollo nodded
sadly, hoping Athena or Boxey had told him the story behind his brother's
death. He wiped away a lone tear. I wish you could be here to see this
day, Zac, he thought to himself. But you're in a far better place. And at
least Earth isn't threatened anymore.
     Apollo put an arm around each of the boys' shoulders as they entered
the Kiroks' front door. They heard Mabel in the kitchen fiddling with
pots and pans. She came into the living room and greeted them as the
captain spoke. "Well, at least something interesting happened; sorry you
couldn't face adventures like we did, Boxey, I hope someday you
understand." He noticed the boys giving him totally incredulous looks.
Holding out his hands as they turned to face him, he asked with a smile
"what, what did I say?"
     "We won't face adventures, Uncle Apollo?"
     "You've got to be kidding us!" came Boxey's dumbfounded remark.
     Now Starbuck was caught up in the suspense. "Why, what happened?"
     "Was the delivery all right?" wondered Sheba, trying to guess. Mabel
tried to stifle a giggle, at the same time thanking the Lord for Jimmy's
protection.
     "Oh, it was great," Boxey said, "except for bein' almost buried
alive." The new arrivals' jaws dropped. "And havin' the roof blow off the
barn while we we're gettin' a horse out, and Jimmy almost bein' turned to
mushies."
     As the adults stared, speechless, Mabel shook her head. "He's just
being modest. Boxey saved Jimmy's life - one of the hay shredders almost
pulled him into it, but Boxey managed to rescue him, even though it might
have pulled him in, too."
     "You did?" Boxey nodded. Apollo and Sheba embraced Boxey again, the
father remarking "I'm so proud of you. Of course, I'm always proud of
you, but when I hear things like that it just makes me feel so good!"
Sheba concurred.
     "Thanks. Wanna hear what all happened?" The adults listened with
rapt attention as the boys related their adventures.
     Adama could only shake his head. "The things that go on while one is
away."
     "And here we thought we were leaving you someplace where it was so
tranquil," stated Sheba with a laugh.
     At this moment, Athena and her husband drove up to the farm house
and exited the car, walking in through the open front door. Athena
quickly handed the baby to Bruce and hugged the others. "Want to meet the
first intergalactic child - a healthy, bouncing baby boy."
     "Except you heard about the tornado," came Bruce matter-of-factly,
as he pulled out the birth certificate. "Doctors were so flustered and
hurried with all them thunderstorms and power failures and the like, look
what they did to the birth certificate. They left out the o' in the last
name. May as well leave it that way, now, I guess. That's what she
figures, so I guess I'll go along with it."
     A sudden look of recognition spread across Jimmy's face. "I don't
believe it." He began laughing.
     Bruce shrugged, letting Adama hold his newest grandson. "What is it;
just one letter. I'm sure it's happened before."
     Jimmy shook his head. "No, don't you see? Boxey, you remember that
name, Jim Kirk, don't you? He was from Iowa, too."
     "You mean..." Apollo began to think, finally recognizing what they
meant. "Gee, yeah, who knows, dad - a couple hundred years from now, one
of your descendants..." As the thought hung and the others caught on, the
entire living room filled with laughter. 

The End