[columb0.txt - Another Saga of a Star World, Prologue]

BATTLESTAR COLUMBIA

It was the final annihilation of the life form known as man, the climax
of the Millenium War.  The Cylon Alliance, an empire of machines and
enslaved races, destroyed humankind's great battlestar fleet, and
brought the Twelve Colonies to their knees.  

But out of the Apocalypse there was a hope.  A thousand-metron long flag
of humanity...the battlestar Columbia.


                "ANOTHER SAGA OF A STAR WORLD, PROLOGUE"

                     Written by B. James Markowski

       Based on "Battlestar Galactica" created by Glen A. Larson 


                            
  The remains of the great battlestar fleet of the Twelve Colonies were
in a snake formation, one ship side and back to the other.  They were
fooled here, near the old moon Cimtar.  Fooled by a peace treaty from a
race that knew no way of existence but their own, the Cylons and their
multi-quadrant alliance.  And now that falsehood the Colonials were so
easily lured into had brought destruction.  Nearly a thousand Cylon
heavy raiders were firing on the warrior fleet, and had no
opposition...except for--
  "Were the other ships able to launch their fighters," Cmdr. Adama of
the battlestar Galactica asked.  
  "Negative, sir," his black Caprican second, Col. Tigh replied.
  "The Lord help us."
  "Sir," Sgt. Omega spoke up from his console.  "The Columbia has
launched two of her squadrons.  They have interceptor and heavy vipers
out."
  "Get me Cmdr. Eleen from the Columbia on Commline Alpha," the old
Commander ordered.  
  Just then Capt. Apollo walked onto the Bridge to give his patrol
report; the open communique quickly forgotten.

  The cobra-nosed heavy viper, low on fuel and laser charge, launched
its last missile at the center of the oncoming horde of raiders, the
explosion taking the ten Cylon fighters with it.  "Capt. Baden to
Columbia, come in Columbia."
  A young male voice came over the Captain's cockpit speaker.  "This is
the Columbia."
  "Starhound Squadron has had it.  And from the looks of things
Starmadaka's in the same fix.  Request landing clearance for refuel and
recharge."
  "Landing clearance granted.  Head for the forward port of Beta Bay. 
There's a fire in the aft of Beta and the entire Alpha Bay."
  "Understood."  Baden flicked the Squadron-comm Theta switch. 
"Attention all viper craft.  Proceed to land in the forward Beta Bay. 
'madakas head in first, the 'hounds'll cover you."  A salvo of blue
laser beams flew past the Captain's cockpit.  "Don't worry you Cylon
daggits, I haven't forgot about you," he said to himself.  Lifting the
shaft of his viper, Baden blinded one of the raiders with his cobra
head-like forward wings.  When the heavy fighter turboed out of the way,
another viper was already darting towards the just-blinded Cylon ship. 
Red blasts put the three robot pilots within out of the battle.  
  "Sir," Ensign Bosey's slow and deep voice called over the strike
leader's comm.  "The Galactica is pulling out.  What's going on?"
  Baden turned to see the enormous battlestar go into lightspeed and
head in the opposite direction of the ensuing attack.  "What in hades? 
I don't know Bosey, but I don't like it.  Cmdr. Adama isn't the type to
turn tail and run."
  Another transmission came into the Captain's viper.  "Baden, it's
Jaques.  The Starmadakas and I have docked.  Come on in when you're
finished."
  "Well I would like to stay and save the fleet with my single viper,"
he said jokingly, "but I figure I better not do anything without you on
my back, Captain.  The Starhounds will be landing in a micron."

  Her sapphire-colored eyes seemed almost red as they burned through the
screen showing the outer onslaught.  Whether or not that red was from
anger or sadness--or both--didn't matter.  Cmdr. Eleen briskly looked to
see if anyone on the Galactica was going to talk or not, but then turned
back to see the destruction of the battlestar fleet when no one did.  
  Col. Abel also watched the phalanx of Cylon raiders attack the
Colonials, though he was more interested to see what the Galactica's
commander had to say.  And for right now that was absolutely nothing. 
"Eleen, the Galactica isn't responding to us.  Something must be
wro..."  Just as the old Colonel said that, the viewer set for
Fleet-comm Alpha went blank.  "By Keemoo," Abel replied, referring to
his Sagitaran war god.  "Status on the fleet, Sira?"
  The flight officer was still gazing at the screen of horror like her
Commander.  "Wha...what?"
  "The fleet, Sergeant."
  Sira's face went pale, her mouth wide open.  "They...they're gone,
Colonel.  All gone," she said before tears started to fall from her
already swollen eyes.
  Captains Baden and Jaques walked onto the Bridge, there suits and hair
a bit of a mess.  "What's gone," Baden asked.
  "All of them...the battlestars," Sgt. Sira got out as she ran and
dropped herself in Baden's arms.
  Jaques began to feel tears wanting to fall from his eyes as well;
though being the renowned tough guy of the battlestar Columbia, he kept
them inside.  "Are you sure?  Baden and the rest of the 'hounds tell me
they saw the Galactica head away from the rest of the fleet."
  "Looked like Cmdr. Adama turned coward," Capt. Baden remarked.
  The Colonel, an old war daggit who had served with just about every
commander in the Colonial warriors, took much offense to the comment. 
"That was uncalled for Captain!  Besides...we just lost communications
with the Galactica."  His face turned away and back to the scene of
Cylon starfighters attacking.
  "We have to do the same," Cmdr. Eleen's voice said softly.
  "What," Abel said in surprise.  "You want to leave the fleet?  And go
where?"
  She didn't like the harshness of her second-in-command's tone, but
knew that is how he talked mostly.  "Away from here.  Out of this
system."
  "Are you crazy?!  We have to go and defend the Colonies.  We're the
last chance, Eleen!"
  "By now the Colonies are destroyed."
  "You can't prove that!"
  "You're absolutely right," Eleen returned the harsh tone.  "I can't
prove that because all of our long-range sensors are out.  But think
Colonel.  Why weren't there any basestars here?"
  Abel was dumbfounded.  "I don't know."
  "Because they are at the Colonies, right now.  It's simple logic."
  "Don't give me your scientific stuff little girl!  We have to go back
to the Colonies, back to Sagitara and save it!"
  The piercing look of the Commander's eyes--the one that struck fear
and obedience in every person under her command when seen--met the
Colonel's brown irises.  "You are out of line, Colonel!"
  "And you are out of your mind!  I'm taking command of the battlestar
and we are going to Sagitara!"
  "Now it's mutiny?"
  "Now it's time we did what warriors are meant to do!  Defend the
Colonies," Col. Abel exclaimed as he shoved the young Commander aside
and began sending orders electronically throughout the ship.  "Sgt.
Aryan," he called to the launch officer, "take Sgt. Sira's place as
flight officer.  Contact Engineering and tell them we're going to use
the new ultra-light drive.  Prepare a course for Sagitara."

  Each of the Twelve Colonies weren't alike in some way.  Mostly it was
just simple things like table manners that differed, but other times it
was matters far more complex and serious.  Sagitara was one of those
"big difference" colonies.  Out of all twelve, this was the most
warlike, the most fierce and hasty.  In fact, it was believed that the
Colonial warriors began on Sagitara, as well as the Colonial cavalry. 
The sometimes considered barbaric colony had the most sophisticated and
powerful ships, as well as planetary defenses--rumored once that if the
planet could move, nothing would stand in its way.  But right now none
of that battle-filled lifestyle or advanced technology could save them. 
There were three basestars above her now, and raiders along with ground
centurions were attacking the planet, leaving nothing standing except--
  The Angry Atrums had travelled all the way from Scorpio to help
Sagitara with the planetary assault.  They were one of the finest
cavalry divisions in the Twelve Colonies, even though they were often
dismounted like the present.  Only a few turbines could be brought in
such short notice, and the bomber shuttles were instantly destroyed
before they could reach the atmosphere, allowing the landing shuttles to
reach their destinations on the surface.  
  Laser rifles in one hand, fusion grenades in another, the Colonial
cavalry contingent nicknamed "AA" was desperately fighting against the
innumerable Cylon centurions.
  "Fall back," Lt. Rojen yelled to his contingent.  "Surround the
village," he ordered, pointing at the small village of Trayest where
they gathered most of the colonie's children.  The orange-colored beams
from his rifle fired at an extremely rapid pace, but seemed to take out
very few tin cans.  His grenades were depleted, along with most of the
laser rifles charge now.  Blasting five more centurions down, the gun's
power was all but gone.  From behind him came a Cylon commander,
bayonetted rifle held firmly and towards the side of Rojen.  He
instinctively parried, drew a laser knife, and stuck it into the cranium
of the gold robot.  Pulling laser bolas from his hips, throwing them at
the tin heads, he soon noticed that the knife was the weapon of common
use among his dismounted cavalrymen, and thus returned to it after the
depletion of his bolas.  And the number of those men was decreasing
fast, gaps in the wall of soldiers around Trayest.  And due to those
holes, centurion after centurion was marching to

  The houses and huts were aflame, laser blasts flying in every
direction.  Kids ranging from three to fourteen yahrens old were all
huddled into the Trayest homes, but their walls couldn't protect them
from Cylon slaughter.  But on the other end of town was the Constable's
house where only three children and two adults were located.  The
Constable, his wife, two daughters, and one son stood their ground,
their father feeling if they fled they'd betray his family tradition; a
tradition of constables and the very house they hid in.  Never had a
Trayest constable left the village, nor has one ever fought anywhere but
in or out of their home.  And while Constable Drayn had a laser pistol
and some decent combat skills, he was no warrior.  The incoming Cylon
proved that.
  Its singular, revolving red eye scanned the inside of the house,
detecting four humans, for some reason not noticing the fourteen yahren
old boy.  The entire family looked in horror at the hulking silver
automaton, to scared to defend themselves.  It didn't waste time killing
the Constable, firing a barrage of three shots to his chest.  But the
mother and daughters were brutally ripped to shreds with the rifles
bayonett before it walked back out the door.
  The boy, Troy, didn't know why the Cylon left him alive, but he wished
the robot hadn't.  Right before his young eyes he saw his whole family
terminated.  Tears fell, and screams of pain came from his lungs, his
photographic memory replaying the event over and over again in his
head.  Troy moved to his mother's side, her blood staining his
uncommonly white clothing.  He continued to cry as he moved next to both
of his sisters, and his father.  Rage and fearlessness of death filled
his mind and soul.  Grabbing the father's pistol, Troy ran out of the
ancestry home and into the battle.  Before he knew it, he'd shot down a
whole troop, not one of their laser blasts hitting him.  In fact, some
seemed to bounce right off of him.  The laser pistol he was using had
turned a lighter color, and the red stains on his white attire had
dissappeared.  What's going on, the boy wondered.

  The war-dirtied man ran with an inhuman speed towards the turbines. 
"Halt," he ordered them.
  One of the turbines stopped and turned toward in Rojen's direction. 
"Lieutenant?"
  "I'm dismounting you."
  Frustration came over the turbine rider's face, but he hopped off of
the twin-wheeled transport, hesitantly.  "Where am I to report to for
dismounted duty?"
  The Angry Atrum's commander climbed onto the cavalry vehicle.  "Just
pull out your laser pistols and start shooting.  We're disorganized and
losing.  If you want you can head into the village."
  "I will, sir," the young dismountee said, quickly saluting the
Lieutenant by putting his right hand on his left shoulder.
  Lt. Rojen did likewise and drove off towards Trayest at the fastest
speed the turbine could take him.  
  When he finally drove in, he noticed that things were calm; the only
disturbance being the crackle of fire.  But as he rode further into the
streets of Trayest, he heard laser shots, really heavy.  At the heart of
the noise was a young boy in white, surrounded by Cylon centurions.  The
shots, unbelievingly to the Lieutenant, couldn't even touch the
teenager.  Rojen fired into the robotic crowd with the turbine's forward
mounted lasers, knocking Cylons onto their knees.  Fearing for the boy,
though he didn't feel he had too, the cavalryman sped to the
white-clothed lad.  "Get on!"
  "Not till their dead," the young laser-wielder said while shooting
down more tin cans.
  "Those centurions aren't going to stop coming, now c'mon!"
  "Then I'm not gonna stop shooting!"
  Having a notion as to why the boy, probably no older than fourteen he
thought, was out here fearlessly taking on the Cylon troops, the
Lieutenant was almost tempted to let him stay and fight.  The Code
called for the next of kin to fight to the death in revenge, but this
teenager wasn't on the Roster of the Nomen, so the Code didn't apply. 
Now he had to get the youngin to go with him.  "What's your name young
warrior," Rojen said, trying to make the boy feel a bit of pride, and
make him think that the human Code follower was going to let him stay.
  "Troy, sir."
  Rojen leaned his turbine closer to Troy, and then hand-chopped him in
the back, knocking the lad unconcious.  Lifting him onto his back he
said, "Sorry Troy."  The cavalry Lieutenant, with the white-wearing boy
on one shoulder, drove one-handedly back to his AA's.
  
  "How many battlestars," Col. Tigh asked flight officer Omega.
  "We're the only surviving battlestar," Omega replied.
  "My God."
  "Wait, sir," an officer said from down in the Bridge trench.
  "What is it crewman?"
  "We don't have official sensor readings on the status of the
battlestar Columbia.  All Cylon transmissions report it destroyed, but
we can't confirm that for ourselves."
  Tigh sighed, "Cylon reports are always quite complete.  If they report
it destroyed, chances are it's destroyed."
  "Of course, Colonel."
  If only either battlestar knew of eachother's existence.


------------------------------------------------------------
Fleeing from Cylon tryanny, the last battlestar, Columbia, leads a fleet
of warships from all over the galaxy, on a vengeful quest.  The
annihilation of the race known as Cylons.


There are those who believe that life here began out there, far across the
universe, with tribes of humans who may have been the forefathers of the
Egyptians, or the Taltecs, or the Mayans.  They may have been the
architects of the great pyramids, or the lost civilizations of Lemuria, or
Atlantis.  Some believe that there may yet be brothers of man who even now
fight to survive, far, far away amongst the stars.

FROM THE TROY JOURNALS:
  It was a time when war was a way of life for the Twelve Colonies.  Their
greatest enemy, the Cylons, had been fighting with them for near a
milennium.  I think the problem was that the people were tired of it all.
They didn't want to be slaves, but they didn't want to be soldiers or
helpers to the cause of battle.  So when the Cylon Alliance abruptly
offered peace, they welcomed it with enthusiasm and joy.  No, the people
weren't stupid, they were just gullable to their own dreams of harmony and
mass exploration.  I fear that these dreams effected even the strongest
willed of men, including my own uncle, President Adar.  
  Oh, I was very young then and things like this slipped by me.  All I
wanted to do was leap into a viper and head for the Cylon capital.
Because, at that age most youth think themselves immortal, little did I
know that I was, and think they can take the whole universe on with a
colonial warrior jacket on their back and a laser pistol on their side.
  I ever so much felt the same way, and after the Peace Conference I was
going to go to the Colonial Academy, as a matter of fact.  But destiny had
other plans for me.  Thankfully, becoming a warrior was still a part of
that fate.     

                              CHAPTER I

  On routine patrol from the Peace Fleet, lieutenants Borl and Roden flew
their interceptor vipers towards three of the Twelve Colonies where
celebrations and prayers were being made.  
  Like three giant eyes the planets Virgon, Caprica, and Sagitara revolved
in space.  The trio of worlds were the closest together out of the Twelve
Colonies of man, but they were also the most varied in both appearance and
culture.
  Virgon was a small, yet bright planet.  Its white-blue color was
unmistakable by any Colonial.  It was a world of snow, ice, and no natural
inhabitants.  Crystal clear pyramids made up of ice stronger than soliumore
stood proudly within Virgon's cities, surrounded by smaller, fused snow
houses that were dome-like in shape.  The size of these so-called "igloos"
told of a family's status and wealth, some of them matching half the size
of the ice pyramids in their largest.  The Virgos were a people very proud
of their accomplishments.  When it was first colonized, the sister worlds
felt that it would be better left untouched for if no life lived on it
before, how could humans ever survive?  The Virgos proved all of them
wrong, and the planet had become the third richest in the Colonies,
Sagitara and Caprica the only ones more so.
  Unlike Virgon, Caprica was monstrous in size.  The colony had the highest
population rate of them all, and its wealth was just as great.  While not
as exotic as Virgon, Caprica had the beauty of cities lit up better than
battlestars.  From the atmosphere, the planet looked like one large city,
its bluish lights illuminating every street and building top.  The
Capricans reflected the look of their landscape in that like their cities
they too were everywhere, not only on the other Twelve Colonies, but on the
merchant and war ships of the stars.  The influence Capricans had on the
rest of mankind was readily seen in the cultures of the other worlds.  If a
person travelled from Caprica to Scorpio, the colony farthest from Caprica,
you'd see very little difference in customs and landscape design.  This
only adds to the mystery of why Sagitara, not so much Virgon, was so very
different from the Caprican way of life.
  And as for Sagitara, it was the smallest of all the twelve worlds, and
the most advanced.  While only second in monetary rank, Sagitara had the

newest in military technological breakthroughs.  The tiny planet had the
greatest defense system in the Colonies.  On every building, on every
house, in every tree lied some sort of weapon, be it a bomb or a laser
turret.  And like there structures, the Sagitarans were battle-oriented.
No tribe of humanity were as fierce or as warlike as them--and no other
were as loyal and honorable.  If any of the twelve tribes kept the fight
going against the Cylon Alliance, it was the Sagitarans.  Even before the
Milennium War they were ready for battle.  In fact, when the first Cylon
basestar came to attack the Colonies, only Sagitara stood a chance and only
Sagitara had warships to launch.  While it was only on a small, and
inevitable scale, the Sagitaran way of life impacted the entire race, every
colony creating their own warships.  Yes, Sagitara was a planet considered
barbaric, and its inhabitants were often thought to be made up of the worst
of mankind's traits; but no planet, no tribe of man was more needed in the
Colonies.
  Though the two pilots in the vipers that now looked upon those worlds
knew nearly half about each worlds culture, what they did know astonished
them to no end.  
  Lt. Borl was flicking through the comptel broadcasts coming from the
tri-planet area.  He saw many things, memorably the Caprican Gardens which
were accented with the word "PEACE," and by Serina, the "Face of Caprica"
as she was called.  _That's beautiful_, he thought, _and so are the flowers!_
  "Get off of your pedastal, Borl," the second viper's pilot radioed.
"We're on patrol, supposed to be looking out for uncommon things."
  "You think Serina's common?"
  Roden was a little agitated.  "You know what I mean, Borl.  Now have your
scanner look for things other than transmissions from the Colonies."
  "Oh, alright," Borl said as he switched the color broadcast to the
multi-green scanner view.  
  "Okay.  Now I'm going to head a little more towards Gemoni.  Keep an eye
on things here, Borl."
  "You bet."  The youthful Lieutenant waited to see his more experienced
companion turbo off and out of his interceptor's scanner range.  "Okay,
Lieutenant," he said blankly into space, "I'll keep on an eye on things.
Though I wouldn't call Serina a thing."  Just before the comptel view of
Serina appeared on Borl's monitor, three little dots blipped on scanner
mode.  _Probably nothing_, he assured himself and watched his beloved
compteler.  Paying full attention to that, Borl didn't look up to see three
twin-top like ships come around the farside of Sagitara.


                             CHAPTER II   
  
  Five-hundred yahren after the start of the battle against the Cylons
evolved the still used _Pacifica_-class battlestars.  The hectars-long
cruisers were a testament to mankind's will and perceverance.  Each one was
like a giant flag of freedom floating through the vastness of space.  At
their introduction into combat, the basestars of the Cylons were destroyed
almost instantaneously.  Tens of laser turrets mounted on their fronts,
rears, tops, bottoms, and sides fired salvo after salvo at the dual-diamond
shaped ships.  Solium missiles, never before used or seen, had sent
basestars to debris, and colonies to ash.  For a yahren or so the Colonials
had an undecisive advantage against there automaton foes.  But like all
computers with artifical intelligence, the Cylons learned quickly and soon
had basestars to match the might of the Colonial battlestars.  That's when
the war began to turn for the worst.  Outer settlements of the Colonials
were destroyed with simple push button tactics the Cylons had learned from
the humans.  Planet after planet, battlestar after battlestar, began to
fall to the whim of the Alliance without a shred of mercy or slack.  Bodies
and ship parts littered space, some Colonial, some Cylon.  Either way their
message was the same...war is hades.
  The five remaining battlestars of the Colonial Fleet were here, near the
old moon Cimtar, to put an end to that hades.  After a thousand yahrens
peace was to finally be achieved by the humans and the Cylons.  Each of the
battlestars had just been repainted and refitted for the call of peace,
possibly looking better than when they were first launched those hundreds
of yahrens ago.  They were the last of their class; the _Columbia_, the
_Solaria_, the _Rycon_, the _Galactica_, and the leader of the quintet--the
_Atlantia_.  Some were larger than others, the _Galactica_ being the most
immense after the destruction of her sister ship, the battlestar
_Pacifica_.  But as the proverb goes, "It's not the size that counts...."  
  This saying had the most truth with the battlestar _Columbia_.  Like its
home colony of Sagitara, it was the smallest of its kind.  And also like
its home colony, it was the most powerful of its kind.  Weapon emplacements
lined every edge of the battlestar, and within her landing bays were the
most up-to-date vipers in production, including a few prototypes.
Surrounding the eight hectar-long mass were sparks of light, indicating the
usage of the laser dampening Electronic Defense Screen, also known as the
EDS, which engulfed the _Columbia_ like a bubble.  Vipers sped around that
bubble, constantly watching over the capital ship like they were drones
protecting their queen.  And though she flew at the tail end of the Fleet,
she was no less awesome than any other battlestar.
  But presently, the attention was on the lead ship, the battlestar
_Atlantia_ where President Adar and the Quorum of the Twelve was meeting.
  Each person attending looked different than the others in the manner of
dress style.  The Picon Quorum member had the famed head cloth that draped
to his feet and, at a point, wrapped around his face with only his eyes
visible.  The Aeries representative had the traditional _slahi_ hat on,
indicating the man's vow of argumental neutrality.  There was more
diversity, including the Caprican member, Adama, in battlestar command
dress uniform.  
  One outfit that hadn't changed for generations, though, was Adar's
extremely white robe.  The white Kobol Crosses weaved into the collor and
around the short-cape informed the observer of his status, that of
President, and the two pips near the neck of the cloth were of Atlantian
design, indicating his command of the flagship, also in white.  
  The President himself was an old man, showing wrinkles and scars of long
fighting; his short crop of hair was as white as the robe he wore.  And as
in every meeting, Adar began with the opening comments.  
  "Noble delegates, I realize you are anxious to get back to your ships
before our rendevouz with the Cylons, but I think it appropriate to toast
to the most significant event in the history of mankind.  I would like to
raise my chalice to you.  Not merely as the Quorum of the Twelve,
representing the Twelve Colonies of man," he looked around at those seated,
"but as my friends.  The greatest leaders ever assembled."  Adar looked
down into his glass of ambrosia, face filled with confusion for a second,
believing he saw the Fleet being destroyed in the brim of the cup.  He
regathered his thoughts though and continued.  "As we approach the seventh
millennium of time, the human race, at last, will find peace, thanks to
you."  
  The Quorum raised their chalices replying in unison, "To peace."

  "This is _Atlantia_ Alpha Shuttle to _Columbia_ requesting landing
clearance," the deep voice of the warrior pilot said into his headset.  
  "Landing clearance approved," came over the headspeaker.  "Beta Bay,
Lupus Section, is ready to receive you."
  "Thank you, _Columbia_ Control."  Capt. Dray studied the fighters
circling the battlestar, wondering what they were doing out of dock when
President Adar personally ordered no vipers except for patrols out.
_Something's not right_, he thought, then turned his head to see the
white-wearing teenager looking at the battlestar with awe and interest.
"First time on a battlestar besides the _Atlantia_?"
  The boy, Troy, wasn't paying attention.  When he realized the Captain was
looking at him he replied, "Never one this small.  How can it possibly
work.  The _Atlantia's_ twice the size of this ship and the other Fleet
battlestars are even bigger than that!"
  Dray's green eyes studied the questioner, curious as to how he knew the
question asked when he clearly was "lost in space."  "The Sagitarans'
technology is ahead of the other Colonies'.  Their solium usage is more
efficient than any of the other battlestars, thus allowing for equal power
of a ship twice the size into the smaller hull."
  "Why isn't this know-how used by the rest of the Fleet?"
  Alpha Shuttle descended into the landing bay, settling near a patrol
group of interceptor vipers.  Dray removed the straps from his shoulders
and stood up, motioning for Troy to get up as well.  Walking to the hatch,
he kept silent, avoiding the last question.  It opened and he stepped out
onto the deck, a clanking sound made by his boots hitting metal.  "Cmdr.
Surrd is waiting to meet with you.  Come."  
  Troy walked out as _ordered_, something he wasn't accustom to being the
nephew of the President of the Quorum of Twelve.  He looked around,
astonished at how each person in the deck with the Captain and him was
doing something, and doing that something quickly and effeciently from what
he could tell.  Troy followed the Captain as he entered the baylift which
went to the main hull of the _Columbia_.  
  "You still haven't answered my question, you know," the young man stated.
 But Dray continued to be silent, the hum of the wide and powerful lift
allowing no other noise besides.