The Sum of All Parts, Episode Six: Evolution - Chapter Three
June 13, 2019

Chapter Three, Scene One

     "Doctor Paye?" Boxey's wide brown eyes peered up uncertainly at the
tall medical officer through a crosshatched layer of uncooperative light
brown hair as Cassiopeia placed a palm held regeneration capacitor over
the small wound that had been left in Boxey's upper arm by the biopsy
collection spike that Paye had skillfully utilized in a standard tissue
extraction procedure, "will the antibodies that you're going to grow from
the cells in my arm really neutralize the effects of the signal that's
attacking Artemis and Zac, and /Mom/?
     "That's what we're hoping, Boxey," Paye smiled down encouragingly at
the boy, placing a light hand on a small trembling shoulder, "thanks to
Doctor Wilker's consultations with Chameleon, we've isolated a genomic
marker in your maternal hemotype structure that is resistant to the
effects of the signal, the /Mephiston Matrix/, as Doctor Wilker's calling
it. It's as I've explained to you and to your parents. We should be able
to cultivate a vaccine within a few centars that can be adapted to attach
itself to a recipient's /own/ hemotype structures. We may even be able to
use the new serum derived from the adaptive hemotype variant to safely
inoculate your two youngest siblings before they are born," Paye gave the
boy's shoulder one last squeeze, then turned with a silent nod of
encouragement to Cassiopeia and rushed across the main chamber of the
Life Station, toward the entrance to the medical complex's main
laboratory where Doctors Salik, Roman and Wilker awaited his arrival with
the tissue sample.
     "Boxey? Cassiopeia?" Captain Sheba leaned against the frame of the
open hatchway of the small observation chamber to which she had, some two
centars previously, been sternly consigned by Doctors Salik and Paye.
Cassiopeia moved to support the Captain's trembling frame as Sheba moved
determinedly to perch upon the edge of the treatment platform beside
Boxey, reflexively combing the fingers of one hand through her light
brown hair, then encircling his shoulders with a comfortingly maternal
arm, "have they finished poking and prodding at you?" Boxey's frown of
concern turned to a wry smile, his response to his mother's question lost
to the sound of a newcomer's voice.
     "And just what are you doing out of bed, young lady?" Colonel Apollo
chided gently as he stepped forward to touch Captain Sheba's cheek, his
soft and assumedly casual tone barely concealing the alarm that rose in
him at the feeling of her warm, dry skin against his fingertips, "I
thought we agreed that you were going to rest," the Colonel looked
questioningly into his wife's feverishly clouded and darkly circled eyes,
"Sheba, do you remember losing consciousness after Chameleon and Wilker
laid out the control comparisons for the genomic search parameters?"
     "Yes," Sheba leaned forward against her husband's touch, sudden
weakness and nausea moving through her in a sickening wave, "I remember
Paye talking about the antibodies in Boxey's hemotype profile, there was
a sound, then someone caught me, and..." she paused, swallowing as she
struggled against her unstable stomach and the tight band of pain that
gripped her head like a vise squeezing unrelentingly at her temples, "Did
anyone else hear it? That sound...it...it was almost like...it was like a
voice was calling out to me from inside my own head, but I couldn't tell
who it was."
     "Komma and the lab-techs are studying the scan sensor logs," Captain
Bojay joined the group at the treatment platform, reaching forward to
take hold of Sheba's hand where it lay against Boxey's small shoulder,
feeling the tremors of discomfort that moved through her limbs, "it seems
that you and I are the only ones who heard anything," the Pegasus
Squadron Commander attempted an encouraging smile, though his own fear
was evident to someone who knew the habitual expressions of his face so
well as his friend, sister and sometime wingman did, "the effect was
similar to that of the signal the Cylons threw at us with that accursed
amplifier last yahren, before your fa...before /Cain/ destroyed it. When
that sound came at me, I could feel myself being carried away into a fog,
and I heard voices as well."
     "Count Iblis," Sheba said flatly, a sudden thought forming in her
mind as evidenced by the expression that now moved across her face,
"Bojay, /you/ were leading the first group of Warriors that were abducted
by the aliens that came to us in the Ships of Light," her brown eyes
clouded now with an air of confused speculation, "could it be that Iblis'
former brothers were targeting /you/ specifically? What if those events
were not as random as we've believed?"
     "I still don't have as very clear recollection of that time, Sheba,"
Bojay said quietly as a vague memory of light and sound came back to him,
then blackness, until he had found himself sitting beneath the opened
canopy of his viper, having somehow safely landed upon the surface of an
innocuous planet, confusion and disorientation enveloping his numbed
senses, "at the time, before our memories were restored by the Fleet's
subsequent encounters with Iblis, we all believed that there had been
some sort of sabotage, but of course we know now that the aliens, or
'angels' or whoever they are, implanted those false visions in our minds,
perhaps to keep us safe from Iblis, or maybe they were just hiding their
own mistakes from us. After all, wasn't it /their/ abduction of me and
other pilots that set this whole chain of events in motion?"
     "Your disappearance precipitated me joining Apollo and Starbuck in
the search wing," Sheba looked up into the blue eyes that seemed at once
so familiar and yet so newly met, the revelation of her shared paternal
heritage with her closest friend having taken the two of them off guard,
"it led to the moment that I saw the figure of Iblis, appearing to us as
a fellow human alone on the surface of that planet, apparently a victim
of tragedy and loss like all of us have been," a tear escaped from the
corner of Sheba's left eye and trailed down her cheek to be met and wiped
gently away by Apollo's sympathetic fingertip, "like I was. It was at
that moment that he made some sort of foul connection with my mind,
seeing my loneliness and sorrow, and acting without hesitation to
manipulate me," Sheba shifted her gaze to see the worry in Apollo's green
eyes, "to trick me into believing his lies, when there were others who
saw through his scheme,"
     "Sheba?" Colonel Apollo reached for his wife's arm, sharing a nod
with Bojay as the two men moved forward together to support the now
swooning woman between them, holding her gently as they hooked their arms
beneath hers. Cassiopeia exchanged a glance with the Colonel as she took
a fearful Boxey's hand and pulled him gently to one side, squeezing his
shoulders reassuringly as his father and his uncle helped his mother back
toward the observation chamber.
     "Don't worry Cassiopeia," at Boxey's words, Cassiopeia attempted to
affect a medical technician's practiced air of calm and glanced downward
into the eyes of the boy to whom she had become one of a few trusted
guardians, remembering well that promise that she had made to his first
mother, Serina, as the mortally wounded woman lay dying after that
ill-fated mission to the planet Kobol some three and one-half yahrens
ago, a lifetime it seemed in many ways, "everything is going to be
alright," Boxey smiled encouragingly into Cassiopeia's carefully
controlled face, both of them knowing that her efforts to disguise her
fears were not hidden from his observant and familiar gaze, "the serum
will make Mom and the others feel better, and Starbuck's patrol will come
back from that planet with something that will help us get rid of those
mean old Cylons and Ovions /and/ Count Iblis!"
     "Yes, Boxey," Cassiopeia and the boy stood together, watching as
Sheba was guided carefully by her husband and her brother, back to her
appointed bedchamber. The two of them silently willed one another to keep
hope in the face of their fears, "of course, you're right," the blonde
woman held the boy's small frame in a comforting embrace, /I hope he's
right, Starbuck/, Cassiopeia kept her thoughts to herself as she moved
with her charge toward the network of small chambers that had become
temporary quarters for Athena, Bojay and the infant Zac, along with Boxey
and his sister Artemis, /I think that we could all use some good news
right about now, my love/.
     As if in answer to Cassiopeia's silent prayer-like thoughts, a
communication signal with a decidedly Colonial signature moved swiftly
through the space between the artificially constructed planet that the
Colonial Fleet now approached, to be received by the communication array
of the Battlestar Galactica and the ready ear of Officer Omega, who
waited upon the Command Platform with Commander Adama, their unvoiced
hopes much the same as Cassiopeia's.

Chapter Three, Scene Two

     "Yes, Commander. I'm certain of it. The Star Map prominently
displays the same system that I remember from Proteus. I think that
structure could be an ancient temple or gathering place of some kind,
Sir," Adama leaned closely over Officer Omega's shoulder, both men
listening with expressions of what might have been taken by a casual
observer as mild shock while Captain Starbuck's voice carried clearly
from the speaker inset into the command platform station console before
them, "Commander, there are writings and carvings all over the walls, and
there's some sort of holographic projection equipment set into the
ceiling. We must have tripped a sensor somehow and initiated a playback
sequence, but the holographic image is of someone speaking to us in a
language that none of us recognizes, and, Sir..." Starbuck's voice
hesitated, as if shifting the weight of his words, "Sir, there's /one/
symbol that we /do/ recognize. It's all over the place, carved into the
walls, and it's worn like an insignia by the man in
hologram...Commander...Sir...it's the Guardian Symbol engraved on the
amulets from Cassiopeia's necklace and the Field Manual."
     "Starbuck! This is incredible. Those amulets are constructed of
material that matches the ore samples from the planet on a molecular
level, and the discovery of a map..." Adama's mind was working quickly,
absorbing the enormity of what Starbuck was reporting to him, "What about
the Ovions and the Cylons, Starbuck," Adama's brow was furrowed as he
shared a glance with Omega and spoke urgently into the small microphone
inset near the top of the console, "are you certain that they've gone,
and that there isn't a hive underground? I won't have you three taking
any chances on being ambushed down there, especially if you were to be
pinned down while you're still inside the structure."
     "I've taken first watch outside the entrance, Sir. Boomer and Deitra
are inside recording as many pictures as they can, and there's been no
activity out here," Starbuck's voice crackled, but cleared almost
immediately as Omega adjusted the reception frequency dials, "as soon as
we realized that our new friend inside is only a hologram, we took a walk
down into what looks like a fairly small scale mining operation. It
doesn't look like the Ovions have been digging here for more than a few
sectars at most, and there are no signs of any sort of a hive network or
any lower chambers further down. There's just an empty tunnel where they
apparently dug out that ore they were transporting. It doesn't look to me
like they did any damage to the temple, or whatever it is. They just
bypassed it and went for the ore.
     "Very well, Starbuck," Adama and Omega exchanged glances, neither
quite sure what to make of the Captain's report, "Starbuck, stay vigilant
for now and continue your recording. I'll have Doctor Wilker prepare a
technical team and bring down someone who might be able to understand
those markings just as soon as we're near enough to send in a shuttle
with a viper escort."
     "Affirmative, Commander," Starbuck responded, "I don't get the sense
that the Ovions were planning to come back, Sir. They've taken all of
their equipment with them from the looks of it. As for the Cylons,
there's no sign of them either."
     "There could still be a base-ship out there waiting for us,
Starbuck" Adama's tone was cautious, "Stay alert and don't take any
chances until we get there. At the first sign of any trouble, you three
get back to your ships and get out of there. Understood?
     "Aye, Commander, we'll keep our eyes open until we hear from the
shuttle. Recon Patrol out."
     "Get me Commander Tigh on the Alpha Channel," Adama spoke quietly,
"That hologram might be responsive to a Languatron, if the basic
Kobollian foundation characters can be input by Doctor Wilker, but we
need someone who can decipher those markings down there and we don't have
anyone on active duty rotation in the Technical Section who has enough
familiarity with the ancient texts. You handle things here for now, and
keep the direct channel open with the Pegasus, Omega. /I'm/ going down
with the team on the shuttle."
     "But, Sir..." Omega spoke earnestly in his effort to dissuade his
Commander from this dangerous self-assignment, but his words were cut
short by a determinedly sharp movement of Adama's clear, brown eyes,
"Aye, Commander, bringing Colonel Tigh up on Alpha Channel now, Sir."

Chapter Three, Scene Three

     "This won't hurt a bit, my dear," Doctor Salik's usual gruff tone
carried a softened quality with it as he touched a small medical injector
to the side of Sheba's throat, "I'm applying this treatment through a
major artery to get it moving through your system quickly," the Doctor
lowered the injector, placing it carefully into one of several small
pockets stitched into the front of his medical tunic, "how does that
feel, Sheba?"
     "A little warm, Doctor," Captain Sheba had the look of one who is
struggling to stay awake as she sat, still supported between the strong
shoulders of her husband and brother, on either side of her, like human
sentinels, both willing her to find her way to wakefulness, "I...I think
I feel a little less heavy," Sheba's breathing had become noticeably less
laboured within microns of receiving the dose of hastily distilled
antibody serum, "I don't feel such a weight over my chest anymore,"
Apollo and Bojay exchanged a mutual glance of relief as they both felt
Sheba's spine straighten, allowing her to support her own weight,
lightening the pressure on their arms as they cautiously began to release
their reinforcing embrace.
     "The serum should do its job pretty quickly," Doctor Salik's return
to his more familiar attitude of gruffness sent the message to the three
Warriors that the treatment might indeed be working, making its way
through Sheba's system, repairing the damage done by the malignant
/Mephiston Matrix/, and bonding with her own antibodies to form a
structure in her blood that the Doctors were hoping would serve to
immunize her unborn children from the worst of the signal's effects, "You
lay down for a few centons, and I'll be back to check on you shortly."
     "Yes, Doctor," Sheba allowed Apollo to lower her down to a prone
position with a soft cushion beneath her head as Bojay helped her to
swing her legs gently up and onto the sleeping platform upon which she
had been balanced.
     "Go ahead and go to sleep for a while, Sheba," Apollo stroked his
wife's forehead, relieved to find that her dry and feverish brow now
seemed to have cooled and had expelled a slight film of perspiration that
told the Colonel that her fever had broken, "everything will be fine
now," Apollo reached for a nearby blanket, shaking loose the gentle folds
and pulling it up over Sheba's sleeping form, then turned to share
another look of relief with Bojay, repeating his words to the dearest
friend and brother of Apollo's wife, "everything will be fine."
     "I'll sit with her for a while, if that's alright with you, Apollo.
Zac was still sleeping when I left him and Athena will call for me from
across the corridor if she needs me," Bojay lifted a chair from behind
the nearby diagnostics console, and placed it beside the platform where
Sheba lay sleeping, "You go ahead stretch your legs."
     "Alright Bojay," Apollo spoke reluctantly, loathe the leave his wife
as she lay dozing under the two mens' watchful eyes, yet knowing that
there was nothing that he could do but wait for the serum to have its
full effect on both her and his unborn children, "I'll be with Boxey and
Artemis for a few centons, and then I'll check in with Wilker to see if
they have any early results from the injections that they gave to Artemis
and Zac.
     "Bojay?" Sheba's voice came from a far away place of near
unconsciousness as her brother leaned closer to hear her quickly fading
words, "Isn't it time to check in the Temple? They've been waiting for us
for a long time."
     "What was that, Sheba?" Bojay leaned even closer, his ear close to
her lips, "what did you say?" but there was no response as the prone
woman drifted even further into a deep, drug-induced slumber, Bojay
beside her, stroking her honey brown hair and gazing thoughtfully into
her face, the two of them staying that way for what seemed to him to be a
very long time.

Chapter Three, Scene Four

     "Father, you can't! I can't believe that Commander Tigh has agreed
to this!" Adama stood quietly, knowing that his daughter was not merely
reacting to her worry for him, but suffering frustration that, with an
infant of barely two days, in no way could she insist that she, as the
most qualified person to translate the ancient languages that Starbuck's
patrol had discovered on the walls of what he, Boomer and Deitra believed
may be a temple of the Warrior-Priests of Kobol, perhaps an offshoot of
the Guardians who had escorted the Thirteenth Colony to Earth at the
order of the Ninth Lord of Kobol, that she should go on the planet-side
mission in his stead, which she surely would have done, had she not been
on medical furlon, and clearly unable to travel far from her newborn son,
"Father, there must be some other way, maybe the languatron can be
calibrated for a visual display input, maybe you can examine everything
remotely, from the safety of the ship..."
     "No my daughter," Adama's tone was firm, "I am sorry, but there may
be no time to waste. Starbuck's patrol found no hive or feeding chambers,
but we cannot be certain that the Cylons or the Ovions shall not return.
We need to get some people and equipment down there, load a transport
shuttle full to the brim with the untainted ore and gather as much
information as we can from the Star Chamber. The most efficient way
forward is for me to go down with the others. Now..." Adama raised a
gentle palm, cocking his head to one side and placing his other hand upon
his daughter's shoulder, "Athena, it is decided. Now, you concern
yourself with following whatever instructions you receive from Doctor
Salik. I promise you that there shall be no thought of excluding you and
your expertise from any discussion of our findings just as soon as we
have returned from the mission. In fact, I shall have relay our data
directly to you over a secure communication from the Bridge."
     "Very well, Sir," Athena knew that her Father would not be swayed.
His clear message to her was that he intended to waste no time in
gathering as much information as possible before shepherding the Fleet
once more away from this planet now known to the Cylon Empire, and into a
long, slow toric route, eventually circling back to their original
heading, and on in search of Earth, with the hope of leaving the Cylons
behind, for them and their ruthlessly mechanical obsession with
destroying the remnants of mankind to reside in memory only, "but I
insist that you take a viper escort with you. You can't tell me that's
not a necessary precaution."
     "Father, have you gone mad?" Colonel Apollo charged unceremoniously
into the chamber, his annoyance quite clear to both his father and his
sister, the three of them together now, standing in a small triangular
formation, each looking to the other to find their next words until
Apollo's still strident tone broke the momentary spell of silence that
they shared together, "Doctor Wilker tells me that /you/ are going down
to that planet to join the patrol. Father, it's not safe, you must send
someone else, a Specialist from the Science or History Sections..."
     "No, Apollo," Adama once more made his case with the second of his
two living children, "as I have just explained to your sister, there may
be no time to waste. We've still found no trace of a Base-Ship and we
must have a generous supply of that ore, not to mention the treasure
trove of information that may be preserved in that structure, a trace of
the Thirteenth tribe, perhaps," Adama straightened his spine, facing his
children with an air of finality that they well knew would broach no hint
of insubordination, "there will be no more time spent discussing the
matter. I must go to the launch bay and see to it that Wilker and the
Technical teams are prepared to get moving just as soon as we are within
range of that planet. Athena, try not to worry and do as Salik tells you,
and Apollo..."
     "Father, this could be some sort of trap. We've fallen for such
things in the past..." the three of them paused, all of them remembering
another Temple, another time that seemed now to be so long ago, and so
very far away, on another planet, where one much loved by all of them had
suffered a mortal blow, just outside a Temple much like the one that
Starbuck and his recon patrol had described in his report to the
Galactica. Apollo blinked and swallowed hard, willing himself to return
to the present, and the situation at hand, "Father, I insist on taking
you down there in a viper. You need to take a security escort in any
case, and Doctor Paye says that Sheba will likely be asleep for another
few centars as the serum takes full effect. I'm only in the way here in
the Life Station until then, and Omega is fine watching over Core
Command. I'll not have you going down there without me, Sir."
     "Very well, my son," Adama had to admit that he had no practical
argument with the Colonel's logic and, truth be told, he welcomed the
prospect of Apollo's presence with him on the surface of this second
artificially constructed planet that seemed so full of promise, that
might yet fulfill a cautious hope, "it is decided,' Adama turned once
more to address his daughter, "Athena, please try not to worry. Apollo
will be with me, along with an armed sentry detail. We shall gather what
information we can, along with a shipment of the ore, and then we shall
be back here with you before the morning cycle begins."
     "Alright, Father," the young mother sighed with a familiar
resignation and returned the Commander's brief embrace of leave-taking,
knowing from experience that Adama, his decision made, would not be
swayed by any argument that she could present to him, "please be careful,
both of you. Zac's only been here for a couple of days. I'd like him to
at least have one family gathering with his grandfather and his uncle
that doesn't involve a security alert."
     "Hang in there, little sister," brother and sister shared a firm
embrace, the Colonel kissing her lightly on the cheek and squeezing her
shoulder with a reassuring gesture before taking his leave with Adama.
She stood alone, struggling silently to assume an enigmatic mask of calm
over her posture of obvious worry. She stood for several microns, the
mask falling into place, then finally turned to look in on her sleeping
infant son.

Chapter Three, Scene Five

...."Baltar?" the voice seemed to come from far away, beyond the barrier
of the blanket that covered his gaunt, skeletal frame, "Baltar? Shall I
stay for a visit?"
     "Hmmmmm...what do you want? Who are you?"
     "It's me, Baltar, it's Doctor Roman. How are you feeling today?" The
dark man with the curly brown hair stepped through the hatchway of
Baltar's chamber, straightened the hem of his Medical Officer's tunic and
then gestured toward the guards in the corridor to lower their stun
batons and step back as the transparent, bifurcated doors sealed the
hatchway behind him, locking him in with the most notorious patient to
ever reside in the Secure Term Care Section of the Battlestar Galactica's
Medical Section.
     "Where's my ship?" Baltar asked petulantly as a skeletal finger
reached upward to draw the hem of the well-worn blanket to one side,
allowing his feverish eyes to peer cautiously out through the small
opening between tangled folds, "I want to go back to the Oberon. The food
was very good there, and I had a lovely view of the battle..." Baltar's
face suddenly registered what Roman saw as a moment of lucidity, "why
don't /you/ just fix things, /Doctor/ Roman. Isn't that your /job/?"
     "My job is to try and help you, Baltar," Roman spoke blandly as he
reached for the small chair near Baltar's sleeping platform, "may I sit
down with you for a while?"
     "Go ahead," Baltar moved away, pinning himself against the wall as
Roman moved with the chair, to sit squarely facing the haggard form under
the tattered blanket from a mere metron's distance, "you won't get
anything out of me, you know. I'm not a traitor. I've been misunderstood.
You must understand that I have to get back to my ship and wake up the
party guests to greet the three Battlestars, or /it/ won't be happy."
     "Your ship is gone, Baltar. It was destroyed in the battle. You were
rescued, remember? You were brought back here so that we could try and
help you to get better. Don't you want to stay with your fellow humans?
Isn't is nicer to be here with your own people?"
     "What about /you/,"a slyness appeared in Baltar's eyes as more of
his face emerged from the depths of the blanket, "why don't /you/ go and
be with /your/ people?"
     "I am where I need to be, Baltar," Roman maintained his
ever-pleasant demeanor, not rising to Baltar's bait, "and I wish to free
you from your torment. Wouldn't you like to be free, Baltar? To speak
with your own voice, to find yourself again?
     "/It's/ coming back, you know," Baltar spoke almost mournfully, as
if recalling a lost love, "twenty yahrens," the feverishness began to
return to the bright, sunken eyes, "Another Battlestar won't alter the
party plan. I'll be here for twenty more yahrens before the first guests
are due to arrive. I suppose that's nothing for /you/. How long a time
have /you/ been waiting?"
     "What are you saying, Baltar?" Roman leaned forward, watching as
madness once more took hold of Baltar's senses, the deeply troubled
mind's moments of lucidity now slipping away, "alright, Baltar," Roman
rose and returned the chair to its place, gesturing for the opening of
the door and stepping out into the corridor as the transparent panels
closed with a soft /swoosh/ behind him, "I'll come and see you in a day
or two, Baltar. Perhaps you can tell me more when you're feeling better."
     "They'll be another party in twenty yahrens! A big one! Everyone's
invited! But everyone will be asleep! They won't even notice when the
machines are turned on and the daggits stop moving. That cursed daggit
nearly killed me, you know, and after /I/ saved Adama's daughter from the
gardener! It's so unfair!" Baltar spoke now with an empty hollow sound,
his blanket discarded as he rushed for the door, pressing his palms and
his face against its perforated surface and screaming at Roman's back as
the Doctor keyed in the code to enter the secure lift at the end of the
corridor, "Tell Adama that it's pointless to watch for them! Even with
the map, it won't make any difference! When it's time for the party, that
rude girl will be kept from ruining my plans, and then maybe I can get my
ship back and live out my twilight yahrens on a nice planet where
everybody likes me! Bwahahahahahaah!
     "Well, that was interesting," the man in white who now shared the
lift chamber with Roman crossed his arms and leaned carefully against the
handrail behind him, "Baltar has once more heard his master's voice."
     "It would appear that his master has a timetable in mind," Roman was
unfazed by the sudden appearance of his companion, "In just over twenty
yahrens, Baltar is due to save his people from annihilation, thanks to
the past /and/ pending intervention by Artemis and Boomer. That is a part
of /our/ timetable, and we must see to it that this collaboration is not
sidetracked. Our goal is clear. We must keep Artemis and the others out
of harm's way until then.
     "And if our fallen brother decides to alter his bargain with Baltar
once again? If the Secure Section should become somehow /less/ secure at
a convenient moment, or if the Horace is delayed, or deviates its
course?"
     "That /is/ one the reasons that /I/ am here, is it not?"
     "And what of Jain? How shall we repair /that/ little bump in the
Continuum? Jain's story is unfinished from the Colonials' perspective.
Will they not continue to search for her?
     "As you well know, Jain has been spirited away by one of the Cylons'
teleportation experiments. I see no way of returning her here without
creating even more disruption, especially if she remembers that she was
once one of /our/ number. That could unravel all that we have
accomplished here. We shall deposit her on a convenient planet where
no-one, including her, knows of her origins. That seems to me the best
way to separate her from the chaos that has entrapped her. She made her
unfortunate choice, and now she had served her purpose for her master,
leaving her as an empty shell, and /we/ are the only ones who can help
her now. We shall remove her from the Base-Ship, give her a hope of a
better life somewhere, far away from the Fleet and the Children of Cain.
She shall be given a new beginning, a new home, with a little skillfully
applied amnesia to improve her chances of concealment from the enemy, and
her sudden disappearance from the Medical Section must remain an unsolved
mystery for now."
     "You've become more human over these yahrens aboard the Pegasus, my
brother, more emotional. Do you not yearn for your home as Baltar does?
     "John", Roman afforded himself a playful smile, going out of his way
to address his companion by an alias that had been used on more than a
few occasions where the Colonials were concerned, much as Roman now did
in his own turn, "We shall have a virtual eternity to spend discussing
such things together, my brother, in about twenty or thirty yahrens,
perhaps more, /after/ we have nudged the children of Kobol back into
their proper place along the Continuum.
     The two men shared one more enigmatic glance between them as the
lift door began to open and the alien sometimes known as 'John' seemed to
evaporate from view, leaving only Roman to continue on his solitary
journey, back to the Science Section, to apply some of that gentle
nudging with Doctor Wilker's team.

Chapter Three, Scene Six

...."So...Apollo, I gather there's been a lot of activity up in the Life
Station since we've been gone," Starbuck spoke softly, though his voice
still carried quite efficiently throughout the skillfully constructed
Celestial Map Chamber, its carved stone walls evidently designed to
maximize the amplification of the smallest of sounds, "one of Wilker's
Technicians tells me that they may have found a way to repel the signal,
and that Sheba and the children..."
     "Things seem to be looking a little better, Starbuck, and Paye
thinks Sheba will be fine once she sleeps off the effects of the
treatment they put together. But Starbuck, there's a lot that you and the
others don't know yet," Apollo hesitated, he himself not yet recovered
from all that had occurred over the last several days, and still reeling
somewhat from that relief that Sheba and his children might now be safe
from harm, "Starbuck, when we get back to the ship, we're going to confer
in Life Station to see if Athena's made progress on some of these
translations from the images that Father has sent up for her to look at,
and there's a lot...a lot of other news as well."
     "Well, now that you mention it, Buddy, there's something that /I/
have planned to share as soon as...well, maybe we can all catch up as
soon as the Commander is satisfied..." Starbuck winced as his words
echoed more loudly than he had anticipated, "It's alright, Apollo,"
Starbuck continued in a more subdued tone, "We have security watching in
every direction while we're in here," Starbuck had seen how Apollo's
briefly stricken face had swept across the entrance to the chamber upon
the young Colonel's arrival with Adama. Starbuck and Deitra had already
noted between themselves the startling similarity in structure of the
doorway leading into this ancient chamber to another entrance of another
temple, that fateful place on Kobol, where Apollo had spent some of his
last precious moments with his first love, Serina, before she had been
mortally wounded by the blast of a Centurian's laser-pistol. Apollo's
faced registered a small grimace of gratitude and a quick nod of
understanding at the friend who could read him so well, after all these
yahrens and so many heartaches, the familiar comfort of Starbuck's
cheerful voice giving him a mixture of a gentle taste of bravado together
with a clear measure of encouragement as only Starbuck seemed able to
deliver. "So, Skipper, what do you say we get cracking on these pictures
and surface scans. It's pretty simple. Wilker says we sweep every square
centron of the surface area of the chamber. The sooner we're finished
down here, the sooner we can all get safely home and catch up on the
latest developments, if that's OK with you, Sir," then, with a shrug and
a brief turn of his head to exhibit a playful expression of resignation,
he hefted the scanning recorder in his hand and gestured with a quick nod
to the identical device that Apollo now held in one hand as he worked at
inputting a series of simple commands with the other using the recorder's
utilitarian keypad. Apollo smiled easily for the first time in what had
seemed like endless centars of worry, and the two friends turned together
to the task at hand, to work with the technical team and record every
single surface of the interior of what Adama had confirmed could only be
a Celestial Temple left as a marker by at least some numbers of the
Warrior-Priests of Kobol who had surely been a part of the group that had
travelled from Kobol with the Thirteenth Tribe. 
     "Commander! The Languatron!" Apollo and Starbuck started perceptibly
at the incongruously excited tone of Doctor Wilker's voice. The strident
emission of soundwaves echoed repeatedly throughout the ancient chamber,
"we may have a translation, Sir! The adjustments to the recognition
matrix appear to be working!"
     "Apollo! Everyone! Come closer, listen to this. It's as I first
suspected, but I can hardly believe it! This holographic image is quite
clearly a recording made by one of the Priests of Horace! In fact, if I
am correctly interpreting these markings surrounding the projection
receptors in the floor below the image, this may /actually/ be an image
of Horace himself!"
     "Father, does that mean," the Colonel gestured with a broadly
sweeping arm and an awed expression as he turned and moved his eyes over
the perimeter of the large chamber, bringing his glittering green gaze to
rest upon the frozen image of the long-dead Priest with the shining
insignia of a Guardian, an ancient Kobollian Warrior Priest, one of the
greatest figures of Colonial mythology, along with Sagan. Horace,
according to a small passage from the Book of the Word, had assisted the
great Philosopher Sagan in the writing of the Warrior Field Manual, the
ancient text whose guidelines still reflected the basic structure that
facilitated the daily lives and duties of the surviving Colonial Warriors
of the refugee Fleet, "does this mean that this place, these
writings...are they truly a remnant of the Thirteenth Tribe?
     "Perhaps we should listen to the recording, Commander," Wilker's
voice was lowered this time, the diminutive scientist avoiding the
echoing effect of the chamber around them, "I have the additional
adjustments to the matrix keyed in to your specifications regarding the
dialect variation, Sir."
     "Yes! Yes, Doctor!" Adama stepped back, making room for Wilker as
the small man stepped forward, moving a dial on the face of the
Languatron translation unit and pointing it in the direction of the
holographic image in the centre of the chamber. Adama gestured toward the
group of Technicians that stood at the ready behind him, "please trip the
sensors and start the playback. We must hear this message. Apollo, come
closer, my Son, and hear the words of Horace with me!"
     "...we are...to," the holographic image sputtered and skipped
slightly as Wilker continued his adjustments, the assembled Warriors and
Technicians holding their collective breath as the recording suddenly
became clear, the features of the tall, black-clad man from the distant
past staring out at them with the deepest of grey-blue eyes, and a thick
mane of honey blonde hair with a meticulously trimmed beard to match,
"Welcome, Brothers and Sisters", the man rested a forearm briefly against
his own chest, a ceremonial salute, and bowed his head in greeting from
beyond the separation of millennia that now lay between him and the crew
of the Galactica, "to you who now listen to my voice, reaching you from
what will surely be a distant past, it will be so that there is at least
one human of the Fourteen known Tribes of Man among you, in order that
the sensors set into the surfaces of this Celestial Chamber have granted
you entry and triggered my appearance to you over the barriers of time."
     "I bring to you a greeting, a message, and a warning, that you who
now hear me may find your destination and fulfill at least some measure,
if not all of our mutual destinies," the group in the chamber all stood,
silent and wide-eyed as the image seemed to reach out and touch them with
the words that now came to them from the small speaker set atop the
Languatron in Doctor Wilker's steady and work-calloused hands, "I am the
highest in rank of my Brothers, The Warrior Priests of Kobol. It was I
who carried out the order of the Ninth, and final Lord of Kobol. It was I
who oversaw the Exodus from our dying home-world, and it is I who stands
before you now to show you the heading that our scouts have set for us,
over hundreds of yahrens of long-range probes, and Priests among our
numbers who dedicated and lost their lives in mapping the route, to
provide a heading for the Thirteenth Tribe in readiness for the pending
implosion and death of the Star of Kobol."
     "It's incredible," Deitra whispered unconsciously, clearing her
stunned senses just enough to visually check in on the security detail at
the entrance, establishing that they, in spite of the shock that they
shared with their colleagues, were still keeping watch, guarding the
entrance to the Map Chamber and maintaining an open channel with the team
outside in the clearing where the shuttles now stood, and with the
technical team that still hurriedly loaded the transport shuttle with as
many of the ore-laden rocks as they could, all of them adjusting their
headsets to listen in on the hologram's message as the additional
security details on the perimeter of the clearing scanned for intruders
and maintained their vigil while a star-filled night sky descended like a
sparkling blanket over the planet around them," Deitra quietly returned
to her place between Boomer and Starbuck, the three of them exchanging
glances of mutual wonder as the hologram continued speaking...

Chapter Three, Scene Seven

     "Athena? the young woman lifted her head from where she sat peering
at a monitor inset into the small work console near the sleeping platform
in the chamber that had been a temporary shelter for herself, along with
Bojay and her infant son, Zac over the long, tense centars of waiting in
the Life Station, under the protective shield of the Guardian Drones, for
the serum to have its hoped for effect, "how is he doing, my Love?"
Captain Bojay peered intently into the small sleeping pod that the
Medical Technicians had provided for their tiniest guest.
     "Doctor Paye says the antibodies are multiplying, and with no
unanticipated side effects," Athena smiled as her husband bent down to
kiss her, "they tell me Zac will be asleep for quite a while, so I've
been spending some time going over some of the data they've sent up from
the surface. This is incredible, Bojay. The Celestial Chamber is full of
information. We'll be translating all of this for sectons!"
     "I don't understand why the Cylons didn't seem to bother with the
Temple at all. I would have expected them to try and lay some sort of
trap for us when they realized what it was, and that we would likely be
interested in it," Bojay leaned over Athena's shoulder, watching as she
highlighted a portion of the display.
     "I think that I may have figured that out," she pointed to a passage
from the translation grid on the upper left portion of the monitor,
"here, and /here/," Athena moved her finger across the characters,
reading carefully as she roughly translated the ancient text from the
doorway of the temple into Caprican Standard, "this speaks of the
building of the Celestial Temple. Once the planet had been artificially
constructed, the Priests cut into the rock face, creating the Star Map
and the rest of the interior, but they did something unusual with the
doorway, /here/," Athena adjusted the display, showing Bojay another
passage farther down from the first, "they may have been aware of what
happened on the first planet, the one where the ore was corrupted by the
/Mephiston Matrix/ and the Temple there turned into an entrance for a
Cylon Bunker."
     "They built a security system this time?" Bojay leaned closer,
staring intently at the characters on the screen, "Something that kept
the Cylons and the Ovions out of the Chamber?"
     "Yes, that seems to be the case, Bojay," Athena said excitedly,
"this passage here is a description of some sort of advanced circuitry, a
wiring specification of sorts. It looks like the Priests incorporated a
sensor array into the doorframe. The sensors are calibrated to respond
only to the presence of a human, a human whose genomic profile would be a
close enough match to a member of one of the Tribes of Kobol that the
sensors would respond by breaking the secure connection and allowing
entry. When the Cylons and Ovions arrived and started their mining
operation, they may have passed right by the entrance to the Celestial
Chamber without even seeing it. The shielding around the doorway is still
in place after all this time."
     "So, if a Cylon Centurian, or any other non-human entity were to
walk past that doorway when the connection is unbroken..." Bojay's face
was alight with wonder at the ingenuity of the ancient architects of the
Temple, its surfaces now displayed as images that had been recorded from
various angles on the screens before him, "...with the connection
unbroken, the doorway would appear as just another rock face."
     'Yes, the Ovions just went right on by with their mining tools. The
sensors on the doorway not only shielded the Chamber but may have created
a repulsive effect if the digging tools came too close. If they strayed
in the direction of the Temple walls, then their digging tools would be
pushed away, steered gently over to bypass the Temple and continue on
into the rock face beyond. Even if the Ovions had begun drilling directly
into the Chamber, they likely would have assumed that the repulsive
effect was the result of a seam of denser rock and moved their tunnel
over to avoid the extra strain on their equipment."
     'So, you're saying that, unlike the situation on the other planet,
this time there's a very good chance that the Cylons don't even know
about the Celestial Chamber, or the Star Map," Bojay stared into his
wife's pale blue eyes, realization hitting him again, "They only know
about the ore, and even if they do know about the Fourteenth Colony, they
may not know what route they took when they left."
     "That's right, Bojay," Athena leaned back, reaching up to touch her
husband's hand where it sat upon the back of her chair, "for the first
time in a long time, /we/ may finally have the advantage!"
     "But what about the ore, Athena? How does the ore fit into all of
this?"
     "I'm not sure exactly how the Cylons are planning to use the
uncorrupted form of the ore," Athena hesitated, remembering the first
artificially constructed planet that the Colonial Fleet had encountered,
the landing party that she and Apollo had been part of, the discovery of
a Temple, and the mad rush that she and the others on the surface had
made to escape a planet that seemed packed full of Cylon Centurians, "the
Cylons used the other mutated form of the ore to generate and amplify the
/Mephiston Matrix/ as a mutated signal, but it's unclear what they intend
to do with the ore from /this/ planet", Athena pointed to another portion
of the main monitor, "as far as /we're/ concerned, however, from the
information in some of these diagrams, we may be able to use the ore to
fabricate devices similar to the amulets from the necklace and the Field
Manual. The ore isn't identical, but it's very close, and both samples
are free of the mutated matrix."
     "If we have the antibodies from Boxey's blood, the Guardian Drones,
the amulets, and whatever we can build from the ore..." Bojay gazed
downward into his wife's eyes once more, "...with all that on our side,
we may be able to keep Zac and the others from harm."
     "Let's hope so, my Love," Athena sat back in her chair, glancing
over at the tiny form in the sleeping pod nearby, "Let's hope so."

Chapter Three, Scene Eight

     "Sheba?" Doctor Salik entered the observation chamber, Cassiopeia
close behind him, "You're looking a little more steady on your feet,"
Salik reached upward to place the back of his work-worn, yet gentle
surgeon's hand against Sheba's forehead, "it looks as if the fever is
gone, Captain, and Paye tells us that the new serum appears to working
just fine. Doctor Roman developed the original serum, and he was able to
help us adapt it to your specific genomic structure.
     "Roman, but he..." Sheba's eyes became momentarily distant as she
reminded herself silently that she and Apollo were likely the only two in
the Fleet who were privy to the details of Roman's true origins..." the
original serum didn't...it didn't save my Father," Sheba struggled to
form the words, voicing a horrified thought that she had been too fearful
to face, "how do we know for sure..."
     "Sheba, this variation of the serum was derived from singular
patterns in Boxey's maternal genetic line," Cassiopeia interjected,
stepping forward to take Sheba's hand and speaking clearly, willing the
Captain to hear and believe her, "Sheba, there was no way of saving Cain
in time. There was no-one aboard the Pegasus with a similar genetic code
to Boxey's and it would have been too late for him, even if we'd
discovered the anomaly in Boxey's blood as soon as the Pegasus returned.
Cain was too ill by then, and the signal hadn't evolved into what it is
now," the two women shared a moment of grief, as they had many times in
the last few centars, for the man that they had loved, each in their own
way, and both of them still sometimes clinging to one another in times
when those memories had become too much for one or both of them to bear
alone, "Sheba, we torture ourselves in wondering what may or may not have
happened, if things had been different..."
     "Sheba," Bojay entered the chamber and moved to sit beside his
sister and comrade at arms, "the serum is working. You seem almost back
to normal now that you're awake. I just came from checking in on Athena,
and she tells me that Paye has confirmed that Artemis and Zac are
developing antibodies from the treatment, just as we'd hoped.
Your.../our/ Father would want us to be happy over that, and leave our
sorrow for some other time, when we can take a moment to remember him
together."
     "Yes, of course you're both right," Sheba squeezed Cassiopeia's hand
gratefully and leaned against Bojay's strong shoulder, turning to address
Doctor Salik once more, "Doctor, can I please get back up to the Bridge
now? I can take one of the Guardian Drones with me and I promise not
to...
     /CRASH/
     Sheba's words were cut short by the sudden sound of the alert klaxon
as it shattered the air throughout the Battlestar Galactica, ringing out
from the ship's Unicom speakers. The young Captain sprang to her feet,
Bojay beside her, both Warriors reacting as they always did to the sound
of danger that beckoned them to their duties.
     "Doctor!" Sheba's voice was all business now, "my place is on the
Bridge, and Paye has cleared Bojay to join his Strike Wing! No fussing
over me, Doctor! You said yourself that the fever is gone! Colonel Apollo
and Commander Adama are both down on the surface, and there could be a
Base-Ship out there!" Sheba straightened her tunic and ran her fingers
through her long, honey brown hair as she and Bojay made for the door,
"Send one of the drones up to watch over me if you like, Doctor, but I'm
going!" Sheba did not wait for a response as she and Bojay rushed out the
door and on through the hatchway to make for the lift junction and each
on to their respective duties as Colonial Warriors, both of them now
known, one to the other, as the Children of Cain.

Chapter Three,  Scene Nine

     The chamber was hushed as the image of Horace faded from view, the
ambient light surrounding the group seeming to brighten slightly as the
holographic message was completed. Apollo blinked as he stirred from his
reverie, he, like the others, feeling as if he had been held in a moment
of suspended animation, hesitant to be the first to speak, stunned at the
enormity of the most significant of revelations that they had all just
witnessed together.
   "Father," Apollo turned, his voiced hushed, but his green eyes
registering a quickly forming realization, "Father, did I hear that
correctly? Did that holographic image claiming to be Horace, a documented
author of the Field Manual, just say that there were /Fourteen/ Tribes?"
     "Yes, Apollo, and that Fourteenth Tribe may be travelling /away/
from Earth," Adama spoke deliberately, as if in awe of his own words, "it
would appear that there may be a Tribe of Warrior Priests, out there in
space, travelling on a heading away from Earth, to make their way back,
to map the route for those of us who made a different journey and settled
the Twelve Colonies instead. If only we can find them. If we can only
dare to hope, by some miracle of fate, that the Lords of Kobol might even
now be placing them in our path!"
     "Sir! There's a priority communication from the Galactica, Sir!" a
member of the security detail emerged suddenly through the entrance of
the ancient chamber, breaking the last of the virtual spell that had
embraced them, "we may have a Base-Ship approaching from the other side
of the planet! Officer Omega estimates less than two centars before they
reach weapons range. He recommends that we make haste, Commander, and
return to the Fleet as quickly as possible!"
     "Very well! Get back outside, pack up the last of the equipment and
ready the transports! Inform Core Command that we are preparing to leave
the surface," Adama was all business now, "Everyone finish up, get those
scans completed and assemble in the clearing. We've got what we came for,
more in fact, and we'll take no chance on being trapped here with the
Cylons on their way!" Adama shared a glance with his eldest son, both of
them remembering another temple, another mission to the surface of
another planet, when they had not been so vigilant, and one of their
numbers had paid the ultimate price "Apollo, I'll go up in the shuttle
with Wilker and the rest of the team. The rest of you get into your
vipers and assume a defensive position above the planet's atmosphere
until we're well on our way!"
     "Aye, Commander," Apollo gestured toward the other pilots assembled,
some of them still reeling from the appearance of the image of Horace,
"let's go Viper Wings! We'll have time to make sense of Horace's message
later. Until then, it appears that we may have a Base-Ship to contend
with!" the Colonel shared one more look of concern with Adama, "Father,
what if there's more than just one Base-Ship out there waiting for us?
What good will it do us now that we know..."
   "As you said, Colonel," the Commander's voice maintained its steady,
professional tone, as he swept the chamber with a gesture of his
blue-sleeved arm, "we'll have time to make sense of Horace's message
later. Our immediate concern is to get our people and that load of ore
back to the Fleet. There is a chance that we might avoid a confrontation
with the enemy. The Base-Ship may not yet have detected our presence here
on the night-side. It /is/ possible that they are returning with another
group of Ovions to expand their mining operations. Whatever the case, we
need to get moving. May the Lords of Kobol guide us all safely home,"
Adama nodded a dismissal to the Warriors, who responded with their own
quick nods and rushed through the entrance and out beyond the clearing to
make for their vipers and escort the two shuttlecraft home."

Chapter Three, Scene Ten

     "Commander Tigh, do you see it?" the image of Omega on the monitor
above the Alpha Channel relay console carried with it an edge of concern
that was not missed by the dark, elegant figure that stood with Colonel
Tolen upon the Command Platform of the Battlestar Pegasus.
     "Yes, Omega," Tigh spoke quietly, calmly, silently willing Omega to
follow his lead, "it looks like something big, and it's still coming
closer.
     "Commander, its configuration is not yet clear to our scanners, but
its general size and shape, Sir..."
     "Omega, launch defensive strike wings. Maintain a tight formation
close to home and keep the Galactica on alert readiness. Have you
informed Commander Adama that we may have a Base-Ship moving into weapons
range within two centars, maybe less?"
     "Aye Commander, we're updating the landing party now."
     "Very good, Omega. Keep us informed," Tigh turned to address his own
Executive Officer, "Tolen, bring the Pegasus to alert readiness as well,
and have Silver Spar and Cobra Squadrons briefed and ready to launch.
Have them join the current escort wings and get our people safely on
their way back from the surface"
     "Aye, Sir," Tolen hesitated, his tongue touching his upper lip as he
considered his words, "Sir, what if the Base-Ship goes for the planet
rather than the Fleet? Shouldn't we send someone out to take a look?
     "Negative, Tolen," Tigh leaned forward, his practiced tactician's
mind working quickly, "If that's a Base-Ship, then they might just be
back for a continuation of their mining enterprise," Tigh clapped his
Executive Officer, lightly on a blue-clad shoulder, "Tolen, we may just
have the element of surprise on our side for this one!"
     "Then our first priority is to get our people out on a course
heading putting as much of that planet between them and that blip on the
scanners, Sir!
     "Affirmative, Colonel!" Tigh was all business now, turning to the
open Alpha Channel, "Galactice? Omega, bring the landing party and escort
wings in on a stealth heading from the day-side of the planet back to
the..."
     "Aye, Commander," Captain Sheba's face appeared on the Alpha Channel
monitor, "We're already with you on that, Sir! If we have the element of
surprise, then let's not waste it!"
     "I'll assume that you've been medically cleared for Bridge duty,
Captain!" Tigh smiled grimly at the image of the Daughter of Cain,
"welcome to the party, Sheba! What do you say we give our guests a little
surprise?"
     "Sounds like fun, Commander," Sheba leaned forward, her hand resting
on the back of Omega's chair, "I have an idea how we might be able to get
rid of our uninvited guests while minimizing the risk to our Viper Wings,
Sir!"
     "Captain!" Rigel's voice carried from the Core Command Console, "the
landing party reports no apparent contact with the object on the
scanners, they estimate arrival in approximately twenty centons!"
     "Very good, Rigel," Sheba responded crisply, "inform the landing
party and all Viper Wings, both shuttles and all but four wing pairs head
straight for the Pegasus. Consult Pegasus Core Command on landing bay
designations and Wing positions, and get me a direct line to Colonel
Apollo!"
     "Sheba!" Tigh's voice was edged with the adrenaline of battle
readiness as it emerged from the Alpha Channel speaker, "you take on the
landing party, we'll take care of..."
     "No, Commander!" Sheba spoke firmly into the Alpha Channel Relay, "I
think you can reckon as well as I that the Galactica is in a better
position than the Pegasus to pull off this maneuver, Sir!"
     "Very well, Sheba," Tigh knew that the Daughter of Cain was correct
in her strategic thinking. For the classic, and some might argue,
reckless maneuver that she and Tigh both knew she was making, the
Galactica was in the stronger position for success than her sister ship,
"Tolen! Direct the landing party here to the Pegasus, and prepare to
provide covering fire for the Galactica just as soon as they're all
aboard and accounted for! Good luck, Sheba!"
     "Good luck to us all, Commander," Sheba responded, "Let's hope our
targeting scanners get it right on the first shot!" 
     "Galactica, what's our status?" Apollo's voice crackled through one
of the small speakers atop the console of Officer Omega's work station,
"Captain Sheba! Pegasus has ordered all but eight Vipers to their Beta
Landing Bay, what's going on? What are you planning?"
     "Strike Leader," Sheba's voice betrayed no deviation from a tone of
impassive professionalism, "if that's a Base-Ship on the way, then
there's a very good chance that they haven't detected us yet," Sheba eyes
swept reflexively over the lower gallery of the Galactica's Command
Centre, at the array of faces that now looked back at her, relying on her
leadership and skill as a Colonial Warrior to make a decision that could
alter all of their fates. Swallowing any last shadow of doubt and
addressing her husband and his fellow pilots through the transmission
microphone in the console before her, Sheba's voice was firm and steady
as it had ever been, "Apollo, prepare to form a standard defensive
formation, two Wings each on our forward port and starboard. When that
Base-Ship, or whatever it is, comes up over the night-side of the planet,
take evasive maneuvers to spiral into position off our flanks and /cover/
us!"

Chapter Three, Scene Eleven

     "Sheba! And I thought Father had gone mad!" the Colonel's voice
betrayed a stunned and angry undertone, "Core Command, there must be
another way to..."
     "Negative, Colonel. Sorry Sir, there's no time to argue. You can
yell at me later if you really want to, but /I/ have the Command Platform
right now, and /I'm/ calling the shots on this one. Take position with
the Wings, Flight Commander! Do it now!"
     "Affirmative, Galactica Command, we're on our way into position,"
Apollo's attitude switched quickly with the task at hand, his voice
betraying none of the stunned worry that he had felt upon hearing the
voice of his pregnant and recently ill wife giving orders to his flight
wings from the heart of Core Command, "you heard the lady! Deitra,
Starbuck, Boomer, you three are on the starboard here with me, Jolly,
Greenbean, you hook up with our fourth wing on the port side!
     "Affirmative, Strike Leader! This is your fourth wing! Masud and I
couldn't help crashing your little party out here!"
     "Bojay!" Apollo responded with another small bout of stunned
surprise, "they let you out too? How are my sister and the children?"
     "They're all fine, Strike Leader. It seems that the new serum has
done its job with no ill effects, but we're keeping the Guardian Drones
on the job, just to be on the safe side," Bojay's voice ran a ripple of
positivity through the multi ship communication network, as the eight
Vipers moved together into a probe-like formation in front of the
Galactica, readying themselves to face whatever massive object now
approached the day-side of the planet below them, "now what do you say we
get rid of all these annoyances and get this Fleet back on the move in
time for evening meal. My wife wants that dinner she's been promised, and
with no alerts."
     "We'll see what we can do to make her happy, Bojay, and we'll..."
Apollo's playful banter with his brother-in-law was interrupted by a
sudden sound of static followed by the clear chiming of a perimeter
alert, "Get ready to roll over and take position boys and girls!" The
Colonel cried, tightening his grip on the viper control in his hand,
"Here it comes!"
     "Omega, increase forward speed!" Sheba cried out her orders in much
the same tone as Apollo had done, "targetting scanners ready! Have we
confirmed the target, yet?
     "Aye, Captain! It's a Base-Ship alright and she's coming straight
for us!
     "Steady, Omega! Bring us into range! Viper Wings! Keep them busy on
the defensive until we're close enough to take the shot!"
   "Make it a good one, Galactica Command!" Colonel Apollo pushed forward
and down to his right, rolling his ship in a graceful arc with his fellow
pilots, the four sets of Wing Pairs taking position on either side of the
Galactica and commencing to fire, burst after burst of laser blasts
crossing one another and forming a protective layer of defense between
their Battlestar and its target, a fully armed Base-Ship on a trajectory
dead ahead.
     "Steady, Omega," Sheba cried once more, "Steady!" Sheba watched as
the multiple images on the targeting scanners came suddenly into sharp
focus, "Fire laser cannons, dead ahead Omega, and like the man said, make
it a good one, and close those blast shields!"
     "Laser cannons firing, Captain Sheba! Blast doors coming down! The
Viper Wings are maintaining cover fire!" Omega paused for what was merely
a micron, yet it seemed much longer to Sheba as she held her breath,
watching in stony silence as the blast doors began to close over the
battle scene before them, "We have a direct hit on the central target,
Captain!"
     "Strike Leader!" Sheba cried again, shouting urgently into the
console, "Get out of there! Pull your wings around and get behind the
Galactica! That Base-Ship is about to blow!"
     "Affirmative!" Apollo's voice rang out through the multi ship
network, "Pull out! Everybody head aft of the Galactica! Get moving!
NOW!"
     The other seven pilots responded instantly to their Flight
Commander's order, rolling sharply over and away from the sides of the
Battlestar, and pushing their thruster controls as far forward as
possible, racing toward the aft section of the Galactica, rushing to
shield themselves from the impending explosion of the Base-Ship behind
them.
/FLASH/
     The Base-Ship disintegrated, filling the space around it with
millions of particles of light and metal, and illuminating the Command
Centre, momentarily blinding the crew with a brilliant stream of light
for the one last micron before the blast doors finished closing. 
     "Omega! The Strike Wings!" Sheba grabbed the back of Omega's chair
as she steadied herself from the effects of the shock wave that had
washed over the ship, "Strike Leader! Respond! What is your status?"
Sheba and Omega waited breathlessly, their eyes glued to the
communications console in front of them, straining to hear through the
static caused by the close proximity of the exploding Base-Ship, "Strike
Leader...!"
     "Strike Leader to Galactica. Do you read me?" Colonel Apollo's voice
emerged from the static, eliciting sounds of relief throughout the
Command Centre, "Galactica, we're a little banged up from some debris
impact, and our electronics are pretty badly blown out, but we've still
got thruster control! Galactica Core Command, please advise on landing
approach. Strike Wings are coming in on manual!
     "Apollo!" Sheba felt herself begin to breathe again as she and Omega
shared a gleeful look of relief, "Strike Leader, we're bringing you in
directly. Come around and Rigel will clear you a landing bay!"
     "Nice shooting, Captain," Apollo's tone reflected his relief as he
addressed his wife with a mildly teasing tone, "Does this mean you're
taking my job away from me?"
     "You wish, Strike Leader," Sheba laughed easily, sharing another
glance with Omega, this time one of relief and good humour as she
responded to her husband's playful tone, "I may be spending more time in
Command Centre over the next yahren, but you're still putting in your
shifts as well. Don't think that you're getting off easy on Command duty
rotation over the next few sectars, Skipper!" 
     "I read you, Captain," Colonel Apollo laughed with his wife as he
maneuvered his viper into a long arcing trajectory toward the landing
bays at the aft of the Battlestar, "How about we discuss it over dinner?"

     "It's a date, Strike Leader," Sheba responded, laughing once more at
her husband's mocking tone, "However, you should be advised that you can
discuss whatever you like, but I'm just in it for the meal. Duty
rotations are not on the table."
     "Strike Leader," Rigel's voice interjected over the Core Command
transmitter, "this is Core Command. Please come in on Landing Bay Alpha.
We have you cleared for manual landing procedures."
     "Affirmative, Core Command. Strike Wings are coming in!"
     "Good job, Captain," Omega said, reaching up to place a hand on
Sheba's shoulder, "that was a pretty impressive maneuver."
     "I learned it from somebody who knew what he was doing, Omega."
Sheba and Omega shared a silent smile that spoke of many things, then
nodded together and returned to their duties.

Chapter Three, Epilogue

... "We finally gather to welcome our newest arrival," Adama raised his
chalice in a toast and scanned the faces assembled at the table around
him in the modest dining area of his private chambers, "Athena my dear,
we have no alerts, no pressing duties to attend to, at least for the
duration of this delicious meal that we have enjoyed together, and now I
raise my chalice in greeting to my precious grandson, to /Zac/."
     "To Zac!" the assembled dinner guests intoned as the sound of
clinking drinks and congratulations filled the air, and Artemis squealed
from her preferred place at the table, within the gentle and secure
embrace of Captain Boomer's arms, clapped her chubby toddler's hands in
delight, sensing that something exciting had happened, and not
particularly caring why.
     "Zac is here for a momentous day, Commander," Sheba mused as she
took a small sip from the tumbler of her favourite cider that Adama had
poured for her over dinner, "What shall we tell him of this day, of all
that's happened to us up to now. Will he be meeting with the descendants
of the Priests of Horace when he's twenty?"
     "Well, Sheba," the older man paused, his expression enigmatic as he
responded to her query, "taking into account all of the information from
the Temple that we've translated so far, the writings, the symbols, and
of course the message from Horace," Adama paused to look downward, as if
attempting to divine his answer from the narrow, random pattern of bread
crumbs that still clung tenaciously to his near-empty plate, "according
to our latest calculations from Wilker's team, and the Specialists in our
Navigation Section, this splinter of the Thirteenth Tribe, a /Fourteenth/
Tribe including many of the faithful of the House of Horace, may be even
now still travelling on a toric heading similar to our own, virtually
mirroring our own course, mapping the various systems along their route,
always returning to a basic heading back toward Kobol," Adama rose from
his seat, leaving his family in silent expectation as he moved to stand
staring out through the viewport inset into the exterior bulkhead, the
stars seemingly giving him no more insight than the crumbs of his dinner,
"Wilker has informed me that our best estimates tell us that, if we have
interpreted the data accurately, /and/ if the Fourteenth Tribe has not
deviated from their course, then we may be within communications range of
them..." Adama turned, his mellow baritone seeming to capture their
collective breaths as he spoke the final words to be heard amongst the
group assembled before him for what was to seem like a very long pause,
"...if all goes as we hope it may, then the Fleet shall cross paths with
the Fourteenth Tribe of Man in approximately twenty yahrens from now."
     "Well, Sir," Sheba broke the frozen silence at the crowded table and
rose to join the Commander at the viewport, both of them lost for a
moment together, staring out into the stars beyond the transparent tylium
barrier, each hearing whispers of voices, and each seeing fragments of
faces, some of them shared between the two, "I'm twenty-six this yahren,
so I'll be just around forty-six about the time the Science Section
estimates that we can start watching out for signs of the Fourteenth
Tribe," she said it with a slightly mocking smile, but the two of them
knew that her voice held a sliver of hope, hope that they had all
developed now that they knew that perhaps they were no longer to be alone
in the universe, endlessly fleeing the enemy. Perhaps there were brothers
of man, somewhere out there, "Commander, that will be a landmark yahren
if we meet with them when I've reached the maximum age limit of standard
recruit enrollment," Sheba's eyes twinkled with a mischievous twinkle,
"After that, it's only Senior Officer privileges for me!. Oh, and I'll be
expecting a big party as well, by the way!" A ripple of laughter flowed
through the family and friends still gathered at the table as Adama
turned toward his Son's Wife, assuming what seemed to Sheba to be an
incongruously formal posture.
     "Well, my Daughter, we shall sadly have to await the passage of
those two deca-yahrens for your Senior ranking send-off party, but there
/is/ one other matter to be addressed," Adama's deep brown eyes twinkled
as brightly as hers, "Sheba, as you know of course, we've had to make
many adjustments to our ranking rotations these many centars since we've
been on our journey," Adama reached into a small pocket that was sewn
into the hem of his uniform tunic and pulled out a flat square of what
looked like polished stone, "I have, here in this box, something that
I've been meaning to give to you for a while, Captain," Sheba's breath
caught in her throat when she saw the flash of a familiar shape revealed
as Adama opened the box, retrieving the object within and placing the box
on the nearby table, "It is my great honour and privilege to present to
you, Sheba, Daughter of Cain and Wife to Apollo, the insignia and rank of
a Major of the numbers of the Warriors of the Colonial Fleet.
Congratulations, /Major/ Sheba. I look forward to serving in Command Core
with you on a regular rotation, at least until my additional two
grandchildren have joined us next yahren.
     "Thank you, Commander," Sheba stood at attention, fighting back her
sudden tears of surprise and bittersweet joy, "I am honoured to serve
with you, Sir!" Sheba quickly lost control over the warm tears that
escaped from her eyes and warmly embraced Adama, holding him tightly and
whispering into his ear, "Thank you, Father, and I'll keep you to your
word for a party and a whole furlon off for the both of us in twenty
yahrens," Adama laughed and held her tightly in his arms as all but two
of their family and dearest of friends came forward to embrace her as
well.
     "We'll tell them later," Starbuck whispered, pulling Cassiopeia
gently by the arm and away from behind the rest of the group as they all
rose from the table, "Let's allow Sheba to have her big moment. We can
tell everyone tomorrow."
     "Are you sure? Starbuck, you can still back out, and no-one will
know except for us," Cassiopeia's eyes sparkled as she watched a broad
smile cross Starbuck's handsome face, and she whispered as he leaned
close to kiss her on the cheek, "Okay, we'll be sealed together, but I
think you're making a terrible deal. You must know that Chameleon and
Blassie will be relentlessly /hinting/ for you to give them some
grandchildren," Cassiopeia giggled joyfully and, taking Starbuck's arm,
walked with him to join the others and enjoy having a secret between the
two of them for just a little while longer.

/Fleeing from the Cylon tyranny...the last Battlestar, Galactica, leads a
rag-tag fugitive fleet on a lonely quest...a shining planet
called...Earth./