that occurred almost immediately after the so-called Iblis
incident, Montrose was also one of the few Councilors who was pro-military,
and thus usually sided with Adama during arguments.  The fact that he was
involved with this current project made Adama feel slightly wary, but more
confident than before.
	"We propose that all warriors, as well as our own Council Security and all
other armed civilians such as the Borellian Nomen, check in their weapons
once boarding facilities such as the Rising Star and the Pathmain," he
said, using a calm voice.  "This will prevent any more unfortunate events
from occurring."
	"But what if there is an investigation where either my warriors or the
Council Security are forced to board either ship?"
	There was a slight murmur of agreement from the Council at Adama's words.
Tinia decided to answer that question.
	"That is slightly different, Commander.  What we are dealing with here are
warriors on furlon.  You are talking about warriors on duty.  In that case,
Family Connections

by Sanna M. GuTrin

Based on characters and ideas created by
Glen A. Larson.
No infringement on any copyright is intended.

COLONIAL YAHREN 7354

Chapter One

	Although it was long past the time most of the genetic tracers usually
went off-duty, this evening they were staying at their posts.  Chameleon
walked among them, looking over their shoulders as they excitedly went
through the data that was finally beginning to be displayed on their
computer monitors.
	The results from the fleet-wide genetic survey were finally coming in.
For the genetic tracers, this was the achievement they'd been waiting for
in anticipation for the past two yahrens.
	The Council of Twelve had ordered the project to begin at the behest of
the officials working on the Orphan's Ship.  After the Annihilation of the
Twelve Colonies, then not quite one yahren in the past, the child-care
workers had found themselves overwhelmed by the huge numbers of children
who were being delivered literally toI believe that special permission may be given out, either by the Council
or by you."
	Adama nodded.  "Who shall be in charge of checking in the weapons and
maintaining them during the owner's stay?"
	"Council Security will do that assignment," Feo said, now completely
recovered.
	"The Council will now vote on whether to pass this new legislation or
not," Tinia spoke again.  "All those in favor, please raise your hand."
	Looking around the circular table, Adama saw that everyone had raised
their hands.  He decided that this motion was worth his trouble.  Very
carefully, he raised his hand, much to Tinia's approval.
	"All those not in favor?" she said, and was greeted by no hands being
raised.  She smiled.  "The legislation has now been passed.  It shall be
enforced within the next two days.  Sires Montrose and Feo, your committee
will announce the enforcement on the IFB and Commander Adama, you shall
announce it to your warriors.  If there is no more new business, then will
someone motion for  their doorstep.  Though they knew
that many of them, if not all, were likely orphans whose parents never made
it themselves to the ships that were fleeing the burning planets, there was
always a remote chance that the children had surviving relatives on other
ships who were unaware of having any surviving family.
	The key, the workers argued, in taking the load off the extremely strained
resources aboard the Orphan's Ship, was in reuniting the broken families.
The way to do that was through genetic testing, and before the creation of
the survey, the means of doing that were limited.  Before the Holocaust,
genetic testing had been a new field of science, though its small
beginnings promised great results as scientists began turning away from
warfare science to genetic science.
	Chameleon remembered those early days.  He'd tried them himself, as he
desperately, but uselessly, searched for the son he'd lost in the Cylon
raid on Umbra, Caprica.  The first tests he'd undergone were merely blood
samthis meeting to end?"
	A councilor at the far end of the table motioned, and another councilor
near her seconded the motion.  Chairs were pulled back as the Council of
the Twelve left.  Adama stayed in his seat, seeing that Tinia was not moving.
	"I'm impressed," she said when the other councilors were gone.  "I thought
that this meeting was going to be a fight all the way through."
	"I'm not a complete tyrant, Tinia," Adama said, smiling.  "It is possible
for me to agree with the Council when they're right, although it's as rare
as Tylium in water.  Enough about the Council, though."
	She grinned, knowing very well what he meant.  Long before her election to
the presidency, Tinia and Adama had been involved in an on-again, off-again
relationship that they'd somehow kept private.  At the present time, they
were on the on-again stage.
	"Yes," she agreed.  "Enough about them.  How about us?  I know that the
meeting was late, but, well, you could say that I've an ulterior motive.  I
just so happenples, which were crudely compared to some of the Umbran orphans.  Of the
several hundred samples, twelve of them were from the same tribe and
related within the same generation.  None of them were his son, however, as
the second round of testing soon proved.  That had involved both common
sense -- more than half of the orphans he'd been matched with had brown
eyes, while he remembered his baby as having bright blue eyes -- and more
detailed, but still the crude, genetic tests that showed that those
children were only very distant cousins.
	The tests had also taken an extraordinary long time.  Several sectars to
do a handful of tests.  When the proposition of the genetic survey was
handed to the Council, that had been one of the objections.  Time.  Various
figures and estimates were thrown around the table.  There were nearly five
hundred thousand people in the fleet.  The time taken to collect the
samples could be reduced by having several hundred volunteers gather them,
but what about the analy to have a reservation for one of the private dinning rooms,
and I'd love some company."
	Adama laughed as he stood to stand behind her.  He put his hands on her
shoulders as he spoke.  "Well, if you insist."
	"I'm the President," she said, lifting her face to look at him.  "I can be
more than insistent if I want."
	"I'm sure you can," he replied, kissing her forehead.  "And this is
something I'd like to see."

	When Doctor Cassiopia came into her office the next morning, she
immediately accessed the messages that were on her computer.  There was the
usual saucy one from Starbuck, this time reminding her of the dinner he had
planned on the Rising Star for that evening.  She smiled at it, then moved
to the next few messages.  They were mostly about meetings that would
discuss topics that affected the staff of the Life Center, and Cassiopia
just glanced at them.  She'd always found bureaucratic things boring.
	A message towards the end of the queue caught her attention.  Accessing
it, she saw tsis itself?
	The answer was new advances in genetic technology.  Chameleon remembered
his surprise at learning that three yahrens ago when he'd last had a test.
A day was all it took to analyze one sample.  Less than twenty-four
centars.  In a lab with several dozen computers analyzing the samples, that
meant that roughly five hundred samples in one sectar.  The entire fleet
could be completely surveyed within a yahren, and the results from
cross-referencing the results would be coming one yahren after that.
	And right on schedule, they were coming in.
	"Look at this!" one of chief genetic tracers, a woman with large slanted
eyes named Pia, exclaimed as she pointed to one of the monitors.  "We've
already got positive matches for four of the orphans!  People, we've got
ourselves a success!"
	The genetic tracers cheered, and Chameleon, as one of the many volunteers,
exchanged congratulatory hugs with them.  The celebration continued for a
few more centons before it was decided that it was time tohat it was about the Genetic Tracing Project.  To her delight,
she read that the results were coming in, and she sat back in happiness.
She'd been waiting for this, in the same anticipation that she awaited her
sealing ceremony.  They were interconnected, she knew, because she knew
that it was then that Starbuck would learn the truth about Chameleon.
	It wasn't easy for Cassiopia to hide the truth from her fiancee.  If she
had her way, she would have told him everything when the results of her
scan came through, but Chameleon insisted.  He said that Starbuck would
give up everything, including her, but she knew better.  She swore that
Starbuck sometimes just spoke to hear his own voice, but there was no way
she could convince Chameleon that this was the case.
	Sighing, Cassiopia accessed the computer, going to the database that
housed the results.  Doing a quick search, she called up the information in
Starbuck's file, waiting anxiously for the information she knew had to be
in there.  She poise call it a night.
 Parties were a rare thing on the Orphans' Ship, if only for the reason
that they had to be careful not to disturb the children.  Instead, it was
decided that they would return to their billets to wait for more results in
the morning.  Pia would go report her findings both to the Council and to
the general public through the InterFleet Broadcasting agency.
	Very slowly, they began to make their way out of the computer room, not
noticing that they were leaving Chameleon behind.  He'd long ago developed
his talent for going unnoticed, and this time, he was grateful that he
still had it.  What he planned to do next depended on it.
	There was only one other person left in the room, a very young man named
Chaim.  Chameleon knew that he was orphaned in the Annihilation at the age
of seventeen yahrens, along with his two younger siblings.  When he had
come of age almost two yahrens ago, he'd decided against being a Colonial
Warrior, opting instead for the occupation that would keep hid her fingers on the keyboard, waiting for the screen
to the display the results, but when it came up, she stared at the empty
"closest matches" dialogue box.  Impatiently, she wondered where
Chameleon's name was as she entered in a search for the older man's record.
 She discovered the same result.
	"What the frak is going on?" she muttered.  She rarely swore, but this was
definitely an exception.  Feeling her temper building, she keyed into the
comline, and requested an open line to the Orphans' Ship.  Eventually, she
had Chameleon on the line, and as he greeted her, she let him have it.
"Why aren't the full results on the database?"
	"Cassiopia, dear, you know as well as I do that the tests aren't
complete," he smiled.  "There's still a few hundred entries to be put in."
	"And I suppose that there's still going to be an omission, right?" she
demanded.  "Or two, rather?  And you know very well what I mean!"
	Trying to keep his face nonchalant, Chameleon quickly responded with, "I
can't do tham near his
brothers, and would still help the fleet.  As the youngest member of the
genetic tracing team, he still had many qualities about him that always
reminded Chameleon that he still had a long way to go before becoming fully
mature.
	As he watched the information continue to scroll by on the monitors, Chaim
yawned and leaned back in his chair.  Glancing at the chronometer that was
on the wall, Chameleon saw that it was well into the middle of the night,
and he wondered what unlucky bet the hapless Chaim had made to get stuck
with this shift.
	"Why don't I take over for you?" he asked gently as Chaim's chin began to
gently fall forward onto his chest.  "It's been a long and exciting day for
you, and you're obviously tired."
	Chaim bolted forward, then relaxed as he recognized the speaker.
"Chameleon!  You frightened me!"
	"I'm sorry, Chaim.  I have the qualifications to keep watch over the
computers until the next shift starts.  Why don't you get some rest."
	Uncertainly, the young man t, Cassiopia.  You know very well I can't."
	"Why not?  You're his father.  You have a relationship with him.  So what
if there was a problem three yahrens ago?  He's very reasonable.  He'll
understand completely."  Cassiopia sighed as she shook her head.  "Please,
Chameleon, you said that you'd tell him when we were sealed.  Well, you
have just over five sectars, and I'm getting the feeling that if you're not
pressured into it, Starbuck will never know.  Am I right?"
	Chameleon didn't reply.  Instead, he glanced away from the monitor, a
momentary expression of doubt appearing on his face.  Cassiopia realized
that it reminded her of Starbuck, and she wanted to point it out to him,
but instead, she waited for his reply.
	"Cassiopia...." he trailed off.  "I'm sorry.  I just don't have the heart
to do it.  I mean, I know that I'd be furious if I found out that something
that was happening to me.  And how about you?  How will Starbuck feel about
you keeping this from him, as well?"
	"Oh, no, you doglanced at the monitors, then finally nodded.
"All right.  Thanks."
	"No problem."  He helped Chaim stand up, then quickly slid into the seat.
He waited to hear the boy's footsteps retreating, but when he didn't hear
it, he glanced back up at him.  "Chaim?"
	"There's something I've always wanted to ask you," he admitted, looking
slightly sheepish.  "Do you mind if I ask you something personal?"
	"You've known me for close to two yahrens, Chaim.  Ask anything you'd
like."  He gave the boy a friendly smile, though he sensed that he knew
what the question was.
	"Why did you volunteer for this?  Why aren't you on the Seniors' Ship?"
	"That's a very good question, Chaim.  I was assigned here as...
rehabilitation, if you will," he grinned, and his smile got a little wider
as he spotted the shocked expression on Chaim's face.  "No, no, not for
anything serious.  I'm a bit of a wanderer, and my need for adventure got
me into one ounce of trouble too many."
	"But why here?" Chaim pressed.  "There are ln't," she said, feeling her temper building again.  "You
forced this on me, Chameleon.  I want to get this over with, to end it
completely.  I really and honestly believe that Starbuck shouldn't be kept
in the dark about this."
	Chameleon made another face that reminded her of Starbuck, then shook his
head.  "No, I'm sorry.  I can't.  I just... can't."
	"All right, then, Chameleon," she said, keeping her voice level and calm.
"I have an ultimatum for you.  Either you promise to tell him yourself, or
I will tell him myself the next time I see him."
	The old man blinked a few times, as though processing Cassiopia's threat.
"You don't mean that."
	"I'm very serious."
	"And I don't believe you.  Cassiopia, please..."
	She shook her head.  "So you're not going to, then?"
	"No, I --"
	"That's all I wanted to know.  Thank you, Chameleon.  I'll be seeing you
later."  Before he could protest, she cut the connection on him.  Sitting
back in her chair, she thought about what had just transpired.  Had shiterally dozens of places that
need volunteers."
	"Ah, well, it was precisely this that got me into trouble."  Chameleon
sighed.  "When I was young, I got into all kinds of scrapes, but one
yahren, I met the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, and I knew that this
was the only woman I could ever be sealed to.  To the amazement of those
who knew me, I decided to give up my wayward ways to settle down and start
a family.  We had a son, and we were so happy.  Sounds like your perfect
fairy tale, doesn't it?"
	Chaim nodded.  "Yeah, it sorts of does."
	"But unlike fairy tales, this didn't last.  The community we were living
in was destroyed by the Cylons, and my family was separated.  I found out
much later that my wife was killed, and my son was missing.  He might have
been one of the orphans, or one of nameless bodies killed that day and who
were burnt beyond recognition.  I went back to my old way of life, trying
to forget about my past.  It sort of worked, but every once in a while, I'd
the ure
done the right thing?  Should she have respected Chameleon's wishes?
	No, I did the right thing, she thought confidently as she got ready to do
her duties.  She pushed the matter out of her head for the rest of the day,
until she was in her quarters, preparing for the date with Starbuck.  As
she looked at her blond self in the mirror, arranging her dress so that it
wasn't wrinkled.  It was the one that Starbuck had helped her pick out, and
he had insisted on the green color.  It brought out the blue in her eyes,
he had said.
	Taking a deep breath, she made her way down to the launching bay where the
shuttles were waiting.  There was already a large group of warriors
impatiently waiting to get to the Rising Star, but she didn't know any of
them very well.  A few offered her a greeting, and when they tried to start
a conversation with her, she only gave them a few replies.
	Starbuck waiting for her in their favorite dinning room, just outside the
Astral Lounge.  When she entered, she discoveredge to look for him."
	"And it never worked?  You never came close?"
	"Once.  I once came very close.  A young warrior aboard the Galactica had
a remarkably similar background to mine.  I wished I'd discovered this
under different circumstances, though, because at the time, I was on the
run from some Borellian Nomen.  I exploited that part of the warrior's
background so he could get me from the Nomen, and made him believe that I
was his father."
	"Were you?" Chaim asked.
	"No."  Chameleon felt the same faint tugging that always came when he
uttered that lie.  "The tests were negative.  I was found out before then,
and as rehabilitation, I was first sent to the Seniors' Ship, and then I
requested that I be put here, where I can help."
	"Wow, Chameleon, that's got to be the most amazing story I've heard in my
entire life!" Chaim exclaimed, then quickly yawned.  "I'd better get going,
before I fall asleep on my feet."
	"Yes, get going.  I've kept you with my ramblings long enough.  Now, go."
	"G' a limited but sundry
assortment of foods.  Starbuck was decked out in his dress uniform, and
looking very resplendent, she noticed.  She smiled as she sat beside him,
trying not to let her nervousness out.
	"Hi, love," he greeted, giving her a passionate kiss.  She felt herself
relax into his arms, and when they were finished, she sighed happily.  Only
Starbuck could get her to relax like this, even with this much on her mind.
 "How was duty?"
	"I've been busier," she said.  "Not that I'm complaining, of course.  What
did you do on your first day of being on furlon?"
	He grinned.  "Slept.  You know, I envied Apollo so much because he's been
able to do all the relaxing he wants in the past few days, and now I've got
my chance.  No work, no patrols, nothing for me!"
	"Congratulations," she said, smiling.  "So, what do we have here?"
	"Oh!  You wouldn't believe it!  They've added to their menu!" he
exclaimed.  "I wish they'd give us something good like this on the
Galactica!  We've got some treanight!"
	Watching the boy leave, Chameleon let his thoughts go back to the story
that he'd been reciting only a few microns ago.  What Chaim and everyone in
the fleet, save one person, didn't know was that the story was still
on-going.  That the warrior that Chameleon had befriended on the Galactica
was in truth his son.
	"I'm sorry, Starbuck," he muttered, once he was alone.  "I couldn't give
you the truth then, and I don't think I'd be able to give it to you now."
	He remembered the blond warrior, and how much he resembled his deceased
mother, Gabriella, and how many of Chameleon's own habits and
characteristics Starbuck had inherited.  He'd always thought that habits
were learned, but in this case, he knew that nature held an upper hand over
nurture.
	The memory of when he actually found out the truth came back to him.  He
had been sitting in the corridor, waiting for Commander Adama to pass down
a sentence upon his future, and he knew that it would probably be harsh,
when Cassiopia came upts from a few of the different Colonies, and
I specifically ordered some Gemonese truffles for dessert."
	"My favorite!" she exclaimed.  "I haven't had any in.... well, since
before the Destruction, anyway.  What kind?"
	"I don't know.  I've never tasted them before in my life," he told her,
laughing.  "Come on, the sooner we start eating, the sooner the truffles
will arrive."
	She giggled slightly as Starbuck handed her a plate that had a wide
sampling of dishes composed of different vegetables, legumes and grains.
Sniffing them, her nose was greeted by the aroma of different spices, most
of which were unfamiliar.
	"What's in this?" she wondered, noticing that a combination that was
dominantly orange.
	"That?  It looks sort of like a root vegetable that used to be cultivated
in my part of Caprica.  They were always served in the orphanages, come
fall.  They never looked this good."  He took a mouthful, chewed slowly,
then widened his eyes in delight before he swallowed.  "And they never
taston him.
	Smiling widely, she told him the results.  They were positive.  After
yahrens of deliberately searching for him on and off, he accidentally came
across his son in his moment of need.  And completely betrayed Starbuck's
confidence in the meantime because of his ignorance.
	She had been confused when he insisted that the results be declared as
negative.  But he remembered all too well Starbuck's words when the warrior
had contemplated his new future now that he had a father to call his own.
He would give up his career, his friends who were like family to him, so he
and Chameleon could continue the "career" that Chameleon had said that he
had.  Chameleon and Starbuck, father and son, genetic tracers.
	At that micron, when he looked into Starbuck's sincere blue eyes -- almost
the same color as Gabriella's, he remembered thinking -- he decided to tell
the truth.  About running from the Nomen, about gaining Starbuck's
confidence.  What should have been the moment of truth had been interrupteded this good, either!"
	The rest of the evening passed with more culinary treats and very little
conversation.  Cassiopia found herself relaxing even more, as the knowledge
that she'd finally have to tell Starbuck the truth wound up being putting
aside.  When the truffles arrived, she ate them and savored every single
bite.  Starbuck laughed as he watched her, but she noticed that he was
eating them as greedily as she was.
	When the last truffle was gone, she sighed happily and went to sit next to
Starbuck.  She put her head on Starbuck's shoulder, feeling the slight
sugar high that went with them taking effect as he put his arm around her.
They didn't say anything for a few centons.
	Then she felt it.  The threat she'd made to Chameleon was nagging her,
reminding her that something needed to be done.  She had to tell Starbuck
now, or she'd lose face with Chameleon.  Savoring the peaceful surroundings
for one more centon, she sat up.
	"Starbuck," she began, seeing his curious expression.  "Star
by the arrival of the Nomen, and whatever calm atmosphere there had been
was shattered.
	"You'll tell him?" Cassiopia had asked firmly, trying to understand his
reasoning and somewhat succeeding.  One day, he promised, perhaps when
Starbuck became sealed, he would tell him.
	Or so he thought.  Starbuck had been like his father in those days, unable
to settle down with a single woman.  At least he had some of his mother's
responsibility.  But eventually, late maturity settled in, and that meant
that Starbuck had committed himself to one woman, Cassiopia.  Their sealing
ceremony was scheduled for five sectars in the future, and a handmade
invitation was sitting in Chameleon's billet at that centon.  He remembered
laughing when he read it, happy for them, and thinking how ironic it was
that Starbuck would be sealed in a ceremony belonging to a religion that
wasn't the one he had been born into.
	Inside the invitation was a note from Cassiopia.  "Remember your promise.
Please."  He knew that he obuck, there's
something we need to talk about."
	"Sure.  What's up?" he asked, smiling.  His easy-going attitude made her
nervousness come back.
	"I checked some of the results from the Genetic Tracing Project while I
was working today."  She searched his face, especially his eyes, for a
reaction.  "There wasn't anything on there."
	"I know," he shrugged, giving her a smile.  "I looked earlier today, and
I'm not surprised.  What are the chances that someone who was in Umbra way
back then who would still be alive?  The only Umbran orphans I know of who
are still alive are Jolly and myself.  Nothing to worry about, Cass."
	She shook her head.  "No, Starbuck....  There is supposed to be a result.
With you and Chameleon."
	Starbuck didn't say anything for a few microns, but he did look away from
her.  She waited patiently for a reaction, and when he didn't provide any,
she gently touched his arm.
	"Don't touch me," he said, his voice sounding stunned.  "Just... don't
touch me.  Are you trying to wed it to her to tell Starbuck, since she had
faithfully kept the secret for three yahrens, but he seriously doubted if
he could tell Starbuck.  He liked the status quo, and now that he seriously
thought about it, he realized that he couldn't.  At least not yet.  Maybe
never.
	Glancing behind him to make sure that the door was closed, Chameleon
turned to the computer.  Entering in a search, he typed in Starbuck's name.
 He held his breath for a few microns as the computer followed his
instructions and called up his record.
	The results were already in.  In the space designed as "closest matches"
was his name.  Chameleon.  It was official.  Directly below it were the
words, "more matches possibly pending," but Chameleon ignored them as he
prepared to take his next step.
	During his stay aboard the Orphans' Ship, he had surreptitiously gone
about collecting the passwords of the other staff members.  No one knew
that he had them, since he'd used his old gambling tricks to gather them.
To do what tell me that Chameleon is really my father?"
	"Yes.  Starbuck, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean for this to happen.  Chameleon
didn't give me a choice, and he said he'd tell you.  Or so he promised."
Cassiopia gave him a worried look, wishing that he'd face her.  "Starbuck,
I only wanted --"
	"You conspired with him to keep the truth from me?" he asked, trying to
keep a straight face, but his voice betrayed how hurt he was.  "Why?"
	"He was worried that you'd do something drastic..."  She sighed, shaking
her head.  "Look, Starbuck, I wish things had turned out differently, but I
feel that it's time you were told the truth."
	"How dare you, Cass!  How dare you lie to me!"  She flinched at the angry
tone in his voice.  She knew that he would probably be upset, but that
still didn't prepare her for the actual reaction.  She wanted to say
something to make him understand, but before she could open her mouth, he
held up his hand to stop her.  "No, don't say anything.  Don't even try.
Here I am, trying to ghe wanted completed, he needed Pia's password, which he had
obtained a few sectons before.  Carefully, he typed it in, then waited
until the computer would let him continue.
	When it did, he deleted his name from Starbuck's file, then moved quickly
to his own, seeing that his son's name had just been added.  Repeating the
action, he saved his changes, and logged off.
	There, Chameleon thought, realizing that his pulse was slightly elevated.
It's done.  I'm safe for now.
	Another glance at the chronometer told him that he had another few centars
before the next shift arrived.  Settling back in his seat, Chameleon
watched the monitors carefully, his thoughts only occasionally going back
to what he had just accomplished.
	"I'm sorry, Starbuck," he whispered to the empty room.  "It's for the 
best."


Chapter Two

	When Starbuck was a much younger man, he and his squadron mates tried to
figure out how long a warrior could stay on alert before stress could
seriously start to set it.  It was theive you a wonderful evening, and preparing to spend
the rest of my life with you, and it turns out that you've been lying to me?"
	"Starbuck..."  She felt her eyes tear slightly at his tone, and his
accusations.  A thousand possible things to say gathered in her mind,
jamming together into an unintelligable clump before they could reach her
mouth.
	"I trusted you, Cassiopia!" he continued, as though she hadn't
interrupted.  He pushed himself up from their shared seat, and turned his
turbulent blue eyes toward her.  "Relationships are built on trust, and I
can see that I'm the only one of late who seems to be fulfilling that part
of the agreement.  Especially when it comes to something as important as
this..."
	With a forlorn shake of the head, he opened the door and slipped outside
of the room before either of them could say anything more.  Watching him
leave, Cassiopia felt her tears beginning to fall.  She quickly wiped them
away as she stared at the closed doorway in frustration.
	For the l kind of observation that they would
debate during the long scouting patrols that they would be assigned during
the lulls between battles when the Cylons were either in retreat or
attempting to figure out a new attack strategy.  Nothing serious, or so
Starbuck thought then.
	That was when we never actually had to face that possibility, he thought
as he and Boomer made their way back to the Galactica after completing yet
another deep probe.  Whatever the mythical breaking point was, he knew that
he was going to reach it soon if he didn't get any rest.  Rest, as in not
having to go on patrol for more than two days in a row!  That's why I'm so
stressed -- I can't remember the last time I had a break!  How long have we
been on full alert?
	"Too long," he muttered, making his final approach into the alpha landing
bay.  He had to fight off the urge to rub the fatigue out of his eyes as he
cut back on his thrusters and let the Viper slow to a halt in the location
that a deckhand directed him to.  He pove of Kobol... she thought.  Why did Chameleon have to be right?



Chapter Four

	There were many decks to the Pathmain, but Sheba soon discovered that her
favorite by far was the deck that contained the eateries.  It was a stretch
of hallway that went for a few hundred metrons, and on every side, almost
crammed into the niches, were restaurants, cafes and pubs.
	It was on this deck that Sheba arranged for the evening.  Seeing that
Cassiopia and Starbuck were out for the first evening of the furlon, she
decided that everyone else would go out.  She reserved a table at the cafe
that Brie had told her about, the Ebullient Epicure, and informed Athena,
Boomer, Bojay, Dietra and Apollo that they would meet her at
nineteen-hundred centars.  She made only one rule, that no one could wear
uniforms.
	She made the rule more for Apollo's benefit than anyone else's.  She'd
heard about his impending assignment as a bridge officer from Athena, who
was always more than willing to be an informant about opped the canopy when he was
stationary, and almost immediately spotted the deckhands who were busily
working on the Vipers on the far side of the bay.  To his irritation, he
found that some of them actually seemed to be cheerful!  That was too much!
	"How was the patrol?" asked a voice coming from behind Starbuck.  He
turned to greet Jenny, his flight crew technician.  She gave him a big grin
that was too cheerful for anyone's good in a situation like this.
	"Don't ask," he muttered as he took his helmet off his blond head.  "Let's
just say that I'm ready for the day when I don't have to go out on patrol."
	"Come on, Bucko.  We both know that the micron you get out in space,
you're thinking completely different thoughts."
	"Three sectons ago, I might have agreed with you," he said, then winced.
They'd been on full alert for three sectons.  He moaned as he handed her
his helmet.
	"I know you better than that."  Jenny flashed him another grin as she
patted the Viper's hull.  "Anyway, you're sayiher older brother's
activities, and Sheba knew how this could hurt Apollo's already fragile
ego.  She wanted him to take his mind off his current situation, and this
was the best way she could think of.
	Ten centons before the arranged meeting time, Sheba was strolling down the
Pathmain's corridors with Dietra.  The two women had been doing some
shopping that afternoon, mostly replacing old civilian outfits that dated to
before the Destruction, with the current styles and designs.  Sheba 
had discovered two dresses that she just adored, and she'd decided to wear
one of them to dinner.  It was about knee-length, and was an earthy-brown
color that matched her hair.
	Dietra was humming to herself, and occasionally, she would check her
chronometer, making a face to show that she was looking forward to the
meal.  Finally, she tapped Sheba on the shoulder with a huge grin on her
face.  "Let's go!"
	The Ebullient Epicure was owned by a family of Aerians, and it was
decorated with a sparse selection ong that there weren't any
problems at all with our ship?  I readjusted a few of her controls, so I'm
glad to hear that they're working a little more efficiently."
	Starbuck couldn't help but laugh at how Jenny didn't allow him to speak as
she made her comments.  "Yeah, they're working just fine.  I'll never need
a new Viper as long as you're around."
	She made a face.  "I'll see you the next time you crash our Viper, you
wasteful daggit!"
	He laughed again, this time feeling a little more relaxed.  "Thanks,
Jenny.  I needed that."
	"Anytime.  Go relax."
	Making sure that he went into the decontamination chamber, though he
always wondered what kind of microbes he could pick up in the sealed
cockpit of his Viper, Starbuck finally found himself meeting back up with
Boomer.
	"In a better mood?" Boomer asked, giving him a critical look.
	"Was I that nasty out there?" Starbuck winced as they started walking.
	"Right from the micron you arrived five centons late for the patrol.  Be
glad the colonelf red and yellow paints and accessories. 
Smaller tables were available at the entrance, but Sheba had reserved a
large table at the back.  As the server escorted them there, both Sheba and
Dietra could see that they were the first ones there.  After ordering some
ambrosa, they sat down to their menus.
	Sheba frowned at the menu as she noticed that a lot of it was in Colonial
Standard mixed with phrases of Aerian.  Often, the two were intermingled,
and she found that she needed to concentrate, especially given that she knew
very little of the language.  Many of the words were incomprehensible to
her, and when Dietra started giggling and distracting her, Sheba looked up
sharply.
	"What's so funny?" she demanded, as Dietra covered her mouth with her hands
in a vain attempt to contain her laughter.
	"Oh, sorry, Sheba," she gasped, "I was just remembering the last time I
went to an Aerian restaurant.  It was on one of the space stations around
Caprica, and I was with my then-boyfriend.  I think I w wasn't here to see you, Bucko," he said, grinning
slightly.  "Anyway, let's just say that when we haven't even launched yet,
and you're already getting edgy, that's not a good sign, Starbuck."
	"I'm sorry, Boomer.  It's just that... well," he sighed, "when's this
whole alert going to end?"
	"This one in particular, you mean?  Whenever the commander says it's over.
 Whenever that may be," the black lieutenant replied, his tone a little
humorous.  Both of them knew that Adama usually ordered things when he was
good and ready, but when Boomer spoke again when they arrived at the lift,
there wasn't a single trace of humor at all.  "Besides, Starbuck, you know
just as well as I do that we're really going to have to be careful after...
well, the whole thing with Apollo."
	"Yeah, I suppose that there's that, too..."
	Closing his eyes as they waited, Starbuck was reminded of the most
sensitive thing that had occurred since the Galactican fleet had fled the
Colonies after the Cylon destruction.  The whas on leave, and we
ordered a few dishes so we could talk over dinner.  I had no problem with
it, but halfway through, he couldn't finish -- either his dinner or the
conversation!  There was so much spice, his face turned all red!  It was so
funny!"
	"Yuck," Sheba said, wrinkling her nose.  "I don't blame him.  I can't stand
spices.  They make me perfectly ill.  When we order, make sure that I don't
order anything like that."
	"I feel so sorry for you!" Dietra exclaimed.  "Trust me, there's nothing
better than a dish of spicy food to make you know you're alive."
	"We have other ways of knowing we're alive without torturing our mouths and
stomachs, Dietra," Sheba replied, giving her a grin.
	Shaking her head in resignation, though the sparkle in her brown eyes
showed that the topic would come up yet again, Dietra looked up and back at
the doorway.  Spotting three familiar faces, she started waving at them to
get their attention.  "Looking lively, Sheba, they're here!"
	Turning in her chair, Sheole alert status had begun
when a patrol led by Captain Apollo had been ambushed and captured by the
Cylons, though everyone else on the Galactica didn't know until the
battlestar attacked the basestar nine days later.  Sent aboard the basestar
to destroy the central computers with Boomer, Starbuck accidentally
stumbled upon his friend when the badly tortured Apollo was being returned
to his cell after Baltar, the Cylon commander, had taunted Adama.  After a
botched rescue attempt, the three warriors found themselves being
recaptured by Baltar, and in the ensuing interrogation, Apollo had been
forced to reveal the most vital piece of information that any pilot could
give:  the course heading the fleet was taking to find their refuge, Earth.
	"But knowing Baltar, he'll never figure out how to use them," Boomer
continued after a pause, laughing slightly and with optimistic humor that
Starbuck didn't quite feel.
	"After what he did to Apollo, Boomer, I'm never going to underestimate
that son of a ba grinned as she spotted Boomer and Athena making
their way to the table as they held the other's hand; with Bojay trailing
slightly behind.  All three had cheerful expressions on their faces, and
Sheba waved, too, as they finally arrived.
	"Hi, guys!" Dietra greeted.  "Glad you all could make it!"
	"We almost didn't," Athena confessed, as Boomer held a chair out for her to
sit in.  "You wouldn't believe the shuttle traffic!  Everyone who has
permission to go on furlon is either making their way here or to the Rising
Star.  It's just so busy!"
	"Well, enjoy your stay," Sheba grinned as Bojay and Boomer took their
seats.  "If you like spices, this is the place to be."
	"Quit complaining, Sheba.  I'm sure they've got dishes for the
gastronomically sensitive," Dietra said, examining the menu with a
mischievous smile.  "Or you could just eat bread and water while we have our
feast."
	"Who needs the Cylons with friends like you?" Sheba muttered.  "Come to
think of it, maybe I should side with the lupus as long as I live."  Starbuck sighed, determined not to
ruin his evening.  "So... what are you doing this evening?"
	"I'm meeting Athena for some dinner.  I asked Apollo earlier if he
wouldn't mind us using his celestial dome."  Boomer grinned, then frowned
as Starbuck nudged him with his elbow.  "What's that for?"
	"Oh, you old romantic, you," Starbuck teased.  "What's on the menu?
Mushies?  Protein?  Kakao?"
	"I don't know yet."
	"Details, Boomer!" he chided.  "Details!  Ask an old pro!  You've got to
make everything perfect so you can sweep her off her feet."
	"Off her feet?" Boomer laughed, shaking his head.  "Uh, thanks for the
advice, Bucko, but I think I'll pass.  Didn't you once try the 'make
everything perfect so you can sweep her off her feet' routine with Athena?"
	"I guess...  Once upon a time..."
	"And it didn't work, so whatever I do will work," Boomer told him
matter-of-factly as they entered the lift that had just arrived.  "I hope."
	"Well, it worked for Cass," Starbuck Cylons.  They probably can't eat
this stuff either."
	"The key is moderation," Boomer said.  "Eat a bit, then something else
that's not hot, then go back to the first stuff."
	"Tell me about it," Bojay muttered as he examined the menu, studying each
of the descriptions carefully.  There were a lot of items he didn't
recognize, though he agreed with Dietra that most of them looked delicious. 
"Hey, Dietra, care to give a translation about some of these?  What's kuri? 
How's it compared to some of the other stuff, like this one?  Uh.... chile?"
	"Aren't you guys glad I'm here?" Dietra replied, smiling as Sheba rolled
her eyes.  "Chile's an actual plant that is naturally hot, though it really
depends on the individual chile.  Kuri, on the other hand, is a mixture of
different spices, and it can be anywhere from really hot to just a normal
spice -- not hot at all.  Given the restaurant, I think it's safe to say
they're hot."
	"And wasting good food, too," Sheba added.
	Silence fell upon the table muttered, crossing his arms in front
of him.  "Anyway, I wish you two luck."
	"Thank you.  What are you doing this evening?"
	Starbuck shrugged as he leaned against the back of the lift.  "Nothing, I
guess.  Cassiopia's working, so I'll have to find something to do.  It
shouldn't be too hard..."

	The Hephaestus, unlike most of the ships in the fleet, had actually begun
its life performing the duty that it continued during the fleet's journey
to Earth, as a foundry and research ship.  It had been commissioned by the
council ruling the planet Canceria, as their contribution to the on-going
research and building of smaller ships for the war effort.
	Doctor Wilker found that, lately, the aging freighter had become a type of
second home.  While he usually split his time between the Galactica and the
Electronics ship, the Hephaestus now had more pull on him than the two
other ships combined.
	Master Tech Nikolle was the technician in charge of the research and
development department that was housefor another few microns, as everyone decided on
what they wanted to order.  When they needed clarification, they consulted
with Dietra, who also made sure that Sheba got her spiceless dish.  It was
finally decided that they should make a selection of five dishes to share. 
Everyone agreed, but Boomer held back their enthusiasm for a micron.
	"Shouldn't we wait for Apollo?" he asked, motioning to the empty chair on
Sheba's right.  "He knows we're having dinner here tonight, right?  And that
it's here, not on the Rising Star?"
	Both Sheba and Athena nodded, exchanging glances.
	"He should," Sheba said.  "I think I reminded him at least three times
today."
	"The last time I saw him, he was with Boxey in the Triad Courts on the
Galactica.  He's probably just looking for a baby-sitter right now."  Athena
smiled slightly.  "Normally, I'd do the job, but I'm here.  Starbuck and
Cassiopia are on the Star, and Father's probably out with President Tinia."
	"It's common curtosey to let people know when yod aboard the Hephaestus.  Any requests
for new developments in technology or ships were sent to them, and they
always came up with a solution, even if it took longer than those who
ordered it usually anticipated.
	The current project, which was nearing completion, was Wilker's latest
idea, combined with a need that the Colonial Warriors had for an updated
military shuttle.  As they currently were, the shuttles were unarmed, and
needed a Viper escort whenever they went outside the fleet.  What Commander
Adama wanted was a shuttle that was armed, so the Vipers wouldn't need to
be worrying about protecting the shuttle as they fought against the Cylons.
	Wilker's stake in the development of the new shuttle was that he had
designed the new weapons system.  By putting in two manned laser turrets,
one of which was located at the aft section while the other was on top, the
shuttle was as armed as a Viper.  The design of the shuttle was sleeker,
more lightweight than its predecessors, and Wilker was prouu're not able to attend an
outing," Bojay grumbled into the menu, not looking up.  Sheba cast him a
sidelong look, wondering where he was going with that train of thought.  "If
he doesn't come soon, he's not
If he doesn't come soon, he forfeits any rights," Bojay said, a slightly
cold note to his voice, but everyone ignored his comment.  Sheba just
assumed that it was because he was getting hungry.
	"So, those two are really serious now, your father and the Siress?" Dietra
asked, a grin on her face.  "They look so perfect together."
	"Don't they?" Athena laughed.  "I haven't seen Father so happy in a long
time.  Usually he just looks relieved when something goes right.  Now it's
genuine happiness."
	"True love can do that to you."  Dietra glanced at Sheba, who was chuckling
slightly.  "What?"
	"I'm just having a hard time imagining this being done on the Pegasus," she
said, shaking her head in amusement.  "Hey, Bojay, imagine it if my father
overhead a group of us discussing his love life.  Cad to see that
the shuttle looked better in real life than on the drawing board.
	"All of the computer systems are activated," Nikolle was saying, as she
and Wilker approached the shuttle, "and so far, so good.  I'm planning on
having the prototype taken out for a test run within the next few centars,
and we're using one of our own shuttle pilots."
	Wilker nodded thoughtfully as he examined the shuttle close-up.  The
silver hue of the hull shone lightly underneath the ceiling lights of the
Hephaestus' main bay.  He put his hand up against it, feeling its coolness.
	"And there's no problems with the computers?  None at all?"  Wilker wanted
to make sure, since some of his subordinates in the Galactica's computer
lab had developed some of the programming.  He knew that some of them were
new at their posts, so he wanted to double- and triple-check the results.
	"None, but then again," Nikolle said as they approached the hatch, "I'm
pretty sure that we haven't worked out all the bugs yet."
	"That's wn you just imagine what
he'd do?"
	"That's something I'd rather not think about!" he exclaimed, wincing.  "It
would undoubtedly be painful, and include at least the minimum of deep space
probes for the rest of our lives."
	"Definitely.  The hazardous pleasure of discussing the Commander's love
life."  Sheba laughed again, then sobered as she studied the menu one last
time.  "We're ready then, right?"
	"One last item," Dietra said, looking mischievous.  "We need an appetizer,
and I've found just the perfect one."
	"Do we want to know?"  Sheba shot her a suspicious look, then shook her
head.  "No, I don't think I want to."
	"You'll like it.  All of you."  Refusing to say anything else, Dietra waved
the waiter back to the table.  Speaking rapidly, using both Colonial
Standard and a little Aerian, she ordered a bottle of ambrosa along with the
five dishes.  She paused, grinning, and added, "And we'd also like kalimari
as an appetizer."
	Nodding, the waiter left the table as the warriors fixed Diehat I thought," Wilker muttered, then spoke up.  "How about the
rest of the equipment?  Communications?  Engines?  Navigation?  Scanners?"
	Nikolle laughed, shaking her dark red head in amusement.  "All in good
time, Doctor.  We're still within the time allotted to us by Commander Adama."
	"Yes, I suppose you're right," the thin doctor sighed.
	Inside the shuttle, two men and one woman greeted him.  They were all
wearing the grey jumpsuits that all the Hephaestus' crew wore.  One man was
stocky and blond, while the other was lanky and slightly darker.  The woman
was shorter than both, with dark brown hair and eyes.
	"Pallas.  Terrell.  Sigmar."  Nikolle nodded to each in turn.  "Terrell is
the test pilot, Doctor Wilker.  He's the best we have."
	Wilker examined Terrell, whose slightly long blond hair and angular face
seemed somewhat familiar.  Nonchalantly, Terrell held out his hand for
Wilker to shake, but there was an icy attitude about him, as though he
resented the Galactican doctor's presentra with an odd
look.  None of them knew what the selection entailed, and some were afraid
to ask.  Instead, they discussed other things for a few centons until Apollo
finally arrived.
	He approached the table with a hurried expression, looking somewhat
embarrassed.  He smiled as he took the vacant chair next to Sheba, lifting
his hand in a short salute once he was settled.
	"Sorry I'm late," he said, and Sheba noticed that he sounded slightly out
of breath.  "I came as quickly as I could.  Have I missed much?"
	"We've already ordered," Bojay said bluntly, and Apollo looked at him
oddly.
	"We ordered for everyone, so if you're as picky about what you eat like
Sheba, then you've definitely missed out," Boomer added, giving Sheba a
smile to show that he didn't mean the jibe maliciously.  "What kept you?"
	"It took me forever to find a baby-sitter for Boxey," Apollo said, sighing
slightly.  "I was just about to simply give up and stay with him when he
suggested that he stay with Dillon and his pace, that made Wilker uneasy.
	"I hope you take care of the ship," the doctor told him as they grasped
wrists.  Terrell's grip was too aggressive, and made the slender Wilker's
wrist ache slightly when he removed his hand.  "We're still not sure of
what she's capable of."
	"Oh, don't you worry, Doc," Terrell said, his voice holding a trace of a
heavy Caprican accent.  "I know this ship just fine."
	"And Sigmar will be running the tests on the laser turrets," Nikolle
continued, smiling at the other man.
	"And Pallas?"
	"Pallas is our best communications officer.  Actually, she knows a bit of
everything," Nikolle said, smiling at the other woman, who looked a little
shy at the attention.  "She's been the most useful person here during the
last few sectons."
	"And what will she be doing on the test flight?"
	"I'm not going on the test flight, Doctor," Pallas told him, her voice
matter-of-fact.  "I've done my job already."
	"I see."  Wilker glanced away from the three technicians to glance around
rents.  I can't say I'm too
pleased about the entire situation, but it'll have to do.  Then I had to
shower and change, then make the shuttle.  I can't believe the traffic
coming over here!"
	"Nice suit, by the way," Boomer said, reaching past Athena so he could
finger Apollo's sleeve.  "Isn't it Starbuck's?"
	Apollo grimaced slightly, looking down at his clothes.  "Is it that
obvious?  My civilian wardrobe is outdated by several yahrens."
	"Just slightly," Sheba assured him, though she'd noticed something odd when
he'd entered the cafe.  The cut just didn't really seem to suit Apollo; it
was an outfit that really did say "Starbuck."
	"Oh, well," he shrugged.  He'd never really cared about fashion in the
first place, and he wasn't about to start now.  "So, what was ordered?"
	"I hope you like spices," Sheba said, "otherwise you're going to be as
miserable as I am.  Dietra's convinced the others to rot their stomachs."
	"Now this sounds interesting!" Apollo grinned.  "I hope it comes soon,
beca
the cockpit.  Everything did appear to be functioning, as Nikolle had told
him, and although he knew that he shouldn't be worried, he still felt
protective about the shuttle.  He always had that feeling when it came to
something that he developed, as though it were a child of his.  He smiled
as he looked back at Nikolle.  "Well, everything seems to be in order.
When the test flight is done, I'd appreciate having a report with all the
results within the next few centars.  The commander is getting slightly
impatient with the older shuttles."
	Sigmar nodded, while Terrell's face showed a hint of barely concealed
hostility.  "Whatever you say, Doc."
	"Have you seen everything you wanted to see on the shuttle?" Nikolle asked
as Wilker stared at the blond man, wondering what his problem was.
	"Yes.  Thank you, I have."
	Smiling at the technicians, Nikolle motioned for Wilker to follow her out
the shuttle's hatch.  Terrell waited until the doctor and the master tech
were out of earshot before he spokuse I'm starved!"
	Sheba gave him a miffed expression that didn't come across very well, since
she was trying not to laugh.  "You won't get any of my dish, then.  Don't
come crying to me if you can't eat what you're given."
	"He can handle his own food, Sheba," Dietra said, laughing.  "Apollo, have
you ever tried kalimari?"
	"Not that I know of," he replied.  "Is it any good?"
	"I don't know.  That's why I ordered it."
	"It's probably ripe with spice," Sheba said, wrinkling her nose.
	There were a few more spatterings of conversation as they waited for the
food to arrive.  It was general and relatively lighthearted, though every
once in a while, Bojay would counter with something sharp to Apollo's
comments.  Whenever the topic strayed to their duties, Sheba would firmly,
and sometimes bluntly, steer it away.
	Finally, a dish of greyish-looking matter arrived at their table.  As the
waiter placed it in the middle of the table, Sheba found herself staring at
it in mild disgust.
	"You ordered ite to his companions.  His voice was
hushed, and carried an urgent tone.
	"Once I test this shuttle, this will give us the opportunity for us to get
out of here.  Then we can go anywhere we want."
	"I told you, Terrell," Pallas said, her shy demeanor disappearing now that
they were alone, "I'm not going.  I helped you get the information you
wanted, but that's all I'm here for."
	Terrell stared down at her, trying to understand.  "When I first met you,
Pallas, you were wandering around the Rising Star, aimless and without any
hope.  It was just you and Fayina.  I --"
	"Don't bring my daughter into this!" Pallas snapped, her brown eyes
flashing angrily.  "Listen, Terrell, I can understand where you're coming
from.  You're the kind of person who can't take orders from anyone.  That
might have been fine back on Caprica, but in case you haven't noticed,
things are different."
	"Yes, things are different.  We're being oppressed.  Not like those people
were on the Celestra, but we're still oppressed., Dietra," Athena said.  "Give it a try."
	Dietra took a deep breath as she reached for the kalimari, spearing one
glob with her fork.  Sheba watched her with pointed interest, fully
expecting Dietra to spit it out, but instead, her friend grinned widely.
	"Hey, that's good!"
	Apollo shot Sheba a mischievous look as he followed Dietra's example.  He
smiled at Sheba a few microns later as he swallowed.  "Go ahead, Sheba. 
It's not spicy whatsoever."
	"Well..."
	"You'll like it," Athena assured her, reaching for a second helping. 
"Trust us."
	Reluctantly, Sheba took a small forkful, and discovered a sweet yet salty
taste on her tongue.  "Okay, you guys win on this one, but there's no way
I'm eating the same stuff that you guys are having later."
	No sooner did the kalimari disappear, than the server brought their
dishes.  A melange of plates was set in the middle of the table, and as
Sheba settled down to her simple dish of noodles and vegetables, she watched
the others distribute the plates a  We can't do anything the
way we'd like.  All we do is make sure that our jobs make some tyrannical
dreamer's foolish quest come true."  Terrell shook his head.  "You used to
be able to work for yourself, but here, it's to the goal of that
space-happy Commander Adama.  I don't abide by that.  No matter what he
says, Earth is a dream."
	"For you, perhaps," Pallas said quietly.  "Now, you've got your
information for whatever you want to do.  My part is finished.  Thank you,
Terrell, for what help you've given me.  I admit, you did help me find a
job so I could provide a steady life for my daughter, but that's all.  I've
repaid my debt.  So leave us alone."
	During their exchange, Sigmar had been looking back and forth at them, but
now he'd decided to interfere.  "Enough, you two.  Fighting's not going to
do any good for either of us.  Terrell, the faster this thing gets tested,
the faster we're gone.  Pallas, thank you for helping us.  It means that
those of us who agree with Terrell's thinking mong themselves.
	And her amusement began.  Even though there was a discussion going on, she
didn't participate.  She watched everyone's faces as the dinner progressed
to see their reactions.
	It was easy to tell who couldn't handle the spices.  Dietra and Athena
continued to eat unaffected, but halfway through his dinner, Boomer began
picking at his food, his eyes watering.  Bojay did the same a few moments
later, his face turning bright red.  Apollo reached for his water one too
many times, and finally had to borrow Sheba's until the waiter came around
to refill their glasses.
	By the time the dinner was nearly finished, Sheba noticed that a lot of the
food was still left over, despite the two large helpings that both Athena
and Dietra had eaten.  Sheba shook her head in amusement, then looked at the
entrance as she caught a glimpse of a familiar face.
	Sure enough, it was Starbuck.  He stuck out like a sore thumb since he was
the only person who was wearing a Colonial Warrior's dress uniformcan leave."
	"Stay out of this, Sigmar," Terrell snapped, making the other man feel a
little timid.  "Did I ask you for your input?  No.  I could leave you
behind if I wanted to, and if you don't keep your thoughts to yourself, I
probably will."
	"I'm sorry," Sigmar told him.  "Here, Pallas, let me escort you to your
billet, or at least halfway."
	"If you're not careful," Terrell warned, as the two exited the shuttle,
"you'll be sorry."
	Pallas ignored him as she motioned for Sigmar to come with her.  She
didn't bother to see if he was following her as she made her way out of the
shuttle into the bay, then glanced back and smiled when she saw that he was.
	"What did I ever see in him in the beginning?" she wondered, shaking her
head in disbelief.  "I don't know about you, Sigmar, but I think that now
is the best time to get out of here."
	"I don't know," he muttered, continually looking back to make sure that
Terrell wasn't following them.  "He's a dreamer, and an idealistic one at
that.  The amid a
sea of civilians.
	"Hey, what's Starbuck doing here?" she asked, drawing everyone's attention
to the doorway.
	"I don't know," Boomer frowned, glancing at Apollo's puzzled expression. 
"I thought he was meeting Cassiopia on the Rising Star."
	"He was," Apollo verified.  "But what's he doing here?"
	"Maybe Cass was held up in the Life Center," Dietra suggested.
	"Maybe."
	"I think we'll find out in a few microns," Athena replied as Starbuck made
his way over to them.
	Grabbing a chair from the adjacent table, he placed himself between Apollo
and Dietra, then gave them a nonchalant wave.  "Hey, folks, what's up?"
	Sheba couldn't resist saying, "Interested in dinner?  We've got plenty of
felger... er, food."
	Raising his eyebrows, then taking in the amount of food left on his
friends' plates, Starbuck didn't look too excited about the prospect.  "Uh,
what is it?"
	"Aerian food," Dietra said."
	"In other words," Sheba continued, "it's hot."
	"Oh, good lord, no!" he exclaimed, waving hi excitement of the shuttle's got him revved up, but he'll calm
down in a few centars.  Don't worry about him, Pallas."
	"No, he's dangerous."  Pallas shivered.  "Very dangerous, and that's why
I've got two ducats to get off this ship.  My daughter and I have been here
long enough, so we're leaving."
	"Leaving?  Now?  In the middle of the tests?"
	"I've left in the middle of worse situations before," she said tersely,
then quickly leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.  "You're a good man,
Sigmar.  Please don't ask me any more questions about what I'm doing, all
right?"
	He nodded slightly as she smiled, then left.  He wasn't surprised when, a
few centars later, he found her quarters empty.

* * *

	"One more game, Grandfather," Boxey begged, his brown eyes pleading as he
looked up at Adama from the three-dimensional Triad simulator that was
sitting at the far corner of the rejuvenation center.  "Please?  Just one
more?  I promise, just one more!"
	Commander Adama laughed as his eight-yahrs hands as though to fend it
off.  "I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid enough to eat that stuff!"
	"At last!" she exclaimed.  "An ally!"
	"It's not --" Bojay began, but was interrupted by the need to cough from
the spices.  After a quick sip of ambrosa, he continued, "It's not that bad,
Sheba."
	"That's very funny, Bojay.  Ever thought about going on the IFB as a
professional comedian?" Starbuck wondered.
	Bojay gave Starbuck a rude gesture, but Apollo ignored their antics as he
said, "So, Starbuck, what are you doing here on the Pathmain?  I thought you
spent an entire secton's pay for tonight's dinner with Cass.  That's not
something I'd want to miss."
	The good humor on Starbuck's face quickly disappeared at Apollo's words,
and he looked away.  "I'm here now."
	There was an uneasy silence as Apollo stared at Starbuck, trying to gauge
what the problem was, as everyone else squirmed in discomfort.  Finally,
Sheba pushed back her chair.
	"Why don't we go out to some of the shops?" she announcen-old grandson pulled on his
arm, looking quite pitiful as he pleaded.  Apollo always used to do that,
as did Athena...  Oh, Hades, it's universal with all children.  Then again,
I'm not a parent, am I?  I'm a grandparent.  It's my God-given right to
spoil him!
	"One more?" he asked, raising one eyebrow as he used a slightly stern
tone.  Around him, he heard the voices of the other Galactican children who
had also gathered in the room with their parents for some social time.  The
schedule that many parents were forced to keep made it sometimes impossible
for them to spend time with their children.  Adama always regretted that,
especially since he knew how, more than before, very important children
were to the survival of the human race.
	It sometimes amazed Adama how much things had changed since the Galactican
fleet left the Colonies for the stars, especially when it had to do with
children.  Like every society in existence, the Colonies had a dark side,
with crime hiding away where the lighted, knowing that
Starbuck wouldn't talk until he was alone with Boomer and Apollo.  She
nodded to Athena, Dietra and Bojay.  "I saw a few earlier that I wouldn't
mind visiting."
	"Sounds good," Athena said, giving Starbuck a worried look.  "Hey, Apollo,
Boomer, we'll pay you guys later for the bill, okay?"
	Boomer nodded, and then the four left.  He waited until they were well out
of earshot, then faced Starbuck.  "Okay, Bucko.  Start talking."
	"Well..."  Starbuck sighed loudly as he took a utensil in his hand and
started tapping it quietly on the table.  "You guys know how I like people
to be honest with me, right?"
	"Yeah, even though you're not particularly honest with others," Apollo shot
back, grinning good-naturedly.
	"Hey, we're not just talking about him," Boomer pointed out.
	"I know.  Okay, go on, Starbuck.  We're listening."
	"Right."  Starbuck smiled weakly as his tapping became a little more
intensive.  "Anyhow, it turns out that Cassiopia's been hiding something
from me for the of the law didn't penetrate.  Among
the more shameful crimes was child abuse, though the percentages differed
according to the colony and the various traditions.  Even Caprica, the
planet with the reputation of being the pinnacle of human cultural and
technical evolution, had its own share of cases, though there was also a
public effort going on to end it.
	What the public officials didn't know, and couldn't fathom, was that it
would take the destruction of their civilization, and very nearly their
entire race, to end the abuse.  Everyone was all too aware that the current
day might be their last, and that no matter what, the future depended on
the children.  The current social attitude made it a serious crime,
punishable by indefinite incarceration on the Prison Barge, to abuse a
child in any way.
	Looking away from his grandson, Adama studied the other children.  Most of
them were about Boxey's age, though some of them were a few yahrens older.
He recognized one boy, a little blond who was slightly shorter than Boxey,
as one of his grandson's playmates.  Adama frowned as he tried to remember
what the boy's name was.  Dion?  Dijon?  No, Dillon, that's what he's called.
	He also remembered the warning Apollo once told him about the boy.  "I
don't really want Boxey playing with him.  Dillon's a little trouble-maker,
and he's got Boxey in more trouble with Siress Jone since he came aboard
than Boxey ever did on his own."
	They're only children, Adama thought, watching the boy playing compartment
billiards with an adult who must have been the boy's father.  Let them
enjoy their childhood while they can.  It's not going to last.
	"Yeah, just one more," Boxey agreed, looking hopeful.  "I had a good
supper, right?  I even ate my vegetables!  All of them!  Without you
telling me to!"
	"Yes, I suppose you did."  Adama paused, glancing at his chronometer.  It
was almost 2000, which was supposed to be Boxey's bedtime.  "However, I
don't think your father will appreciate you staying up past yo past two yahrens!  Can you believe it?"
	"Is it bigger than the news that she used to be Commander Cain's consort?"
	Starbuck paused, thinking about the much older commander, then laughed
harshly.  Cain, the legendary Juggernaut and commander of the battlestar
Pegasus, had been Cassiopia's lover before his disappearance at the battle
of Molecay.  When the Galactica had come across the Pegasus two yahrens
later, Cassiopia had surprised everyone aboard the Galactica, including
Starbuck, by continuing the relationship.  This time, however, something was
different.  It might have been that Cassiopia had matured since then, or
that Cain no longer needed her.  Whatever the reason, once Cain and the
Pegasus had vanished back into the stars, Starbuck and Cassiopia's
relationship had become more intense and meaningful.
	"Worse."
	Apollo and Boomer exchanged glances.  "You're kidding!  What is it, then?"
	"It has to do with Chameleon."
	"Chameleon?" Boomer repeated.  "You don't mean that he lied to all ur --"
	"Bedtime?" Boxey scoffed.  "He won't mind if I'm late for just once.
Besides, Dad's been sleeping enough for three people lately!  So, can I?"
	"Boxey, you know better than to talk about your father like that.  You're
very lucky that he's still alive."  Adama paused, giving the boy a harsh
look.  He knew that Boxey didn't mean the slight in any malicious way, but
sometimes Boxey just didn't think before he spoke.
	"Yeah, I guess..." Boxey admitted, looking down at his feet.  "I mean, I'm
happy that he's back, but...  If he's back, I want us to do something
together!  It's almost like that secton, Grandfather, except that instead
of being dead, Dad's just in bed the entire time."
	Adama smiled wistfully as he patted Boxey's head.  "Well, if it's been a
secton, Boxey, then your father's probably more than ready to get out and
do something."
	"I hope so."  Boxey fixed his grandfather with a sly expression that he
could only have learned from Starbuck.  "So can we play another game?"
	"Oneof us
about being your father?"
	"Exactly."  Starbuck said the word with bitter finality.
	There was only incredulous silence from his friends for a few microns as
Starbuck grew bored with the utensil.  He put it back down and leaned
forward to wait for the shock to wear off.  It took a few microns before
either could speak.
	"You'd better tell us the entire story," Apollo finally said.  "Don't leave
anything out."
	Sighing, Starbuck told them everything, including what he believed happened
with the genetic tests and why both Chameleon and Cassiopia lied.  When he
was finished, Boomer was shaking his head in disbelief, and Apollo looked
completely stunned.
	"There has to be a better reason than that," Boomer said, frowning
slightly.  "Starbuck, Cassiopia wouldn't do anything like holding back
important information just out of maliciousness."
	"I'm ready to hear any suggestions that you might have," Starbuck said
sarcastically.  "I can't trust Cassiopia if she couldn't me about this. 
What else might she be hiding from me?"
	"Serina pulled something like that when she enlisted without telling me
anything," Apollo said slowly.  "She was afraid of what I would say, and I
was pretty upset about it at the time, but it was something she felt was
necessary.  Starbuck, did you ask Cassiopia why she didn't tell you?"
	He shook his head.  "No.  I was too upset."
	"That's what I thought.  Listen, Starbuck, how about if we go talk to
Cassiopia for you?  I need to go to the Life Center for an exam, anyway, and
I wouldn't mind the moral support."  He shot Boomer a look that told him
that he had no other choice in the matter.
	"What about me?" Starbuck asked.  "What am I supposed to do?  Sit here and
twiddle my thumbs?"
	"No, I have an even better idea.  You can go talk to Chameleon.  He's the
real cause of the problem, not Cassiopia."  Apollo smiled.  "And while
you're at it, why don't you double-check the results from the Genetic
Tracing Project?"
	"Why should I do that?" Starbuck demanded, t more," Adama agreed, then noticed Boxey's friend looking over at
them.  "Why don't you play this game with Dillon, and then we'll call it a
night?"
	"That's a great idea!" Boxey exclaimed, jumping up.  Just before he was
about to run over to Dillon, he stopped and grabbed onto Adama's hand.
"Grandpa, why don't we challenge Dillon and his dad to doubles?"
	"Us, two?" Adama asked, feeling a little uncertain.  He knew that Boxey
sometimes spent centars in the rejuvenation center, perfecting his moves
the way he hoped he would when he learned to play the real game.  Adama,
however, was anything but a Triad enthusiast.  He went to the games
occasionally as moral support for Apollo and Starbuck, never actually
having played the game himself in his entire life.  Still, it couldn't be
that hard, could it?
	"Yeah!" Boxey turned around to face Dillon.  "Hey, Dill!  My Grandpa and I
challenge you and your dad to doubles!"
	"Doubles?" Dillon repeated, dragging his father over to face them.
"You're on, Bohough he appreciated Apollo's
logic on how to deal with the situation.
	His dark-haired friend shrugged.  "You never know who else might pop up."
	"Oh."  Starbuck sighed loudly, then smiled hesitantly.  "Thanks, guys, for
listening."
	"What are friends for?" Boomer said.  "Do you have enough cubits to get a
ducat to wherever Chameleon is?"
	"I'm thinking that he's probably on the Rising Star.  Yeah, thanks for
asking."  Starbuck pushed back his chair.  "I'll see you guys later."
	They nodded, then watched him leave the cafe.  Apollo shook his head
slightly.  "I'm trying to imagine what life would be like without Starbuck
around.  It would probably be boring."
	"That's for sure."  Boomer motioned for the waiter to bring the bill. 
"Okay, we'll both pay half, and then get the others to pay us back later?"
	"Sounds good."
	No sooner had they paid the waiter and left the cafe, than they ran back
into the others.  Boomer held out the copy of the bill they'd kept for them
to see.
	"You all owe tenx.  We'll wipe your astrums."
	"Dillon!" the father exclaimed, giving him a stern look.  "If you don't
watch your language, we're heading back to our quarters, young man.  Do you
understand me?"
	"Yes, sir," the blond boy said meekly, looking at a point just beyond his
father.
	"Good.  Now, you two start playing."  Dillon's father watched the boys run
for the simulator, then turned to face Adama.  "Commander, it's a pleasure
to meet you personally.  I've met your son once or twice, though."
	Adama studied the craggy-faced man for a micron, who appeared to be about
a decade older than Apollo, then extended his hand.  "Is that so?  I'm
afraid I didn't catch your name..."
	"Priam, sir.  I'm an engineer.  My specialty are the Galactica's thrusters."
	"I'm glad to see that you're doing your job well," Adama told him, knowing
that his phrase was awkward as soon as he said it.  Trying not to wince, he
glanced at the simulator, where the boys were already into the first round.
 "How old is your son?"
	"He'll be nine in a few sectars.  I think he's only a little younger than
Boxey?"
	"Ah."  Adama continued to watch the boys, seeing that they were too
embroiled in the game to notice that their elders weren't participating.
"They really enjoy that game, don't they?"
	"They certainly do.  Some nights, I swear that I have to peel Dillon away
from it.  I've seen Apollo having to do the same with Boxey on a few
occasions."  Priam looked away from his son.  "How's Apollo doing, by the
way?"
	Sometimes it surprised Adama how quickly news traveled across the
battlestar.  Of course, Apollo had been back for a secton, but with a crew
of several thousand, word of his return was common knowledge with the
Galactica's crew within a few days.  Adama had yet to discover their
reaction to the fact that Apollo had been a prisoner of war, but he sensed
that it might not be very positive.
	"Very well, thank you."  Adama didn't feel like discussing Apollo with a
complete stranger, so he left it like that.
	"Th cubits," he announced, then smiled at Athena.  "I can pay
for yours, if you'd like."
	"That's sweet of you, Boomer.  Thanks," she replied, but she sounded like
she didn't have her mind completely on the subject.  She grabbed Apollo's
arm to get his attention. "You've got to see this, Apollo."
	"See what?" he asked, and she handed him a small card.  He studied it for a
micron, and Sheba looked over his shoulder to see the name "Appy's Art"
written upon it along with some other words that were too small for her to
see from that distance.  Apollo's eyes widened slightly in surprise as he
looking up at his sister.  "It has to be just a coincidence, Athena.  It
can't be her.  Don't you remember?"
	"Oh, I definitely remember, but it's too fishy for me."
	Apollo tilted his head to one side, as though considering Athena's point. 
"I'm agreeing with you completely on that point, but still...  Where did you
get it?"
	"In a shop not too far from here."
	"Not too far, huh?  Well, we'd better check it outat's good," Priam nodded.  "I could tell that Boxey really missed him.
He and Dillon didn't do anything at all during those nine days."
	"He certainly did."  Adama glanced at the boys as Boxey crowed in delight.
 "I guess they've forgotten about us."
	"I'm not surprised."
	Boxey turned around from the game, a huge grin on his face as he shouted
to Adama, "I won, Grandfather!  By twelve points!  Dillon lost!"
	"You pulled that stupid stunt!" Dillon shot back, putting his hands on his
hips and glared at Boxey.  "I want a rematch!"
	"I won fairly!  Your player tackled mine!  That means you forfeit the game!"
	"Dad!" Dillon whined, coming up beside his father.  "He cheated.  Can we
play again?"
	"Not this time, Dillon.  It's your bedtime, and it's probably Boxey's as
well."  Priam took hold of Dillon's shoulders, and gently began steered him
toward the exit.  "Say goodnight to Boxey."
	All animosity between the boys vanished as Dillon shrugged.  "Okay, okay,
I'm going.  See you in learning period , I guess," he finally
said, looking uneasy.  "Boomer, I'm going to go with Athena to look at
this.  We'll talk to Cassiopia when I get back to the Galactica, maybe in
the morning.  Sheba, would you mind coming with us?"
	"What's wrong?" Sheba wanted to know.  What kind of fuss could they start
over a simple card?
	"Hopefully nothing," was Apollo's only reply.  He said a quick farewell to
the others before setting off.
	"Athena?" Sheba asked, looking over at Athena.  "Do you know?  What's the
importance of that card?"
	"It... has something that reminds us of someone we used to know a long ago
when we were kids," she said slowly.  "Come on, let's go after him before we
lose him."
	"So...." Dietra began, watching the other women running to catch up with
Apollo.  Once they were out of sight, she turned to her ex-boyfriend.  "That
was interesting.  Tell me, what's this about Cassiopia?"
	Boomer shook his head without looking at her.  "Let's not get into that
just yet."

	The dinning area on thetomorrow."
	Boxey waved to him.  "See you later!"
	Watching as the father and son left the Rejuvenation Center, Adama glanced
down at Boxey and saw a sad expression pass over his face for a micron.  It
quickly disappeared as Boxey grasped his hand.
	"Come on, Grandpa!  Time for my bedtime, remember?"
	Laughing at Boxey's comment, Adama nodded.  "All right, let's go."
	It was only a short distance between the center and the small billet that
Boxey and Apollo shared.  Boxey went into the quarters first, turning on
the lights so Adama could see where he was going.  The living area was as
tidy as it usually was, but Adama noticed some signs that Apollo had
returned, though mostly with his desk.  Even though Apollo was off the
duty-roster for the time being, there were a few reports already piled
neatly on the right side.  Adama shook his head in amusement as Boxey shut
the door.
	"I'm going to get into my pajamas," Boxey announced, heading down the
short hallway that connected the cramped living a Hephaestus was a type of communal gathering place
for the crew to get together to interact while eating.  The table located at
the far-left-hand corner was where Terrell's group always sat, secluded even
when the hall was full.  There was no one gathered in the area during the
evening when Terrell called his group together.
	Sigmar felt frightened when he looked at his friend's face.  The expression
on his face made Terrell look haggard and angry.  Well, the angry expression
wasn't unusual, but the haggard one was.
	"And none of you have seen Pallas after she left the bays?" he was saying,
looking at the handful of people who were seated about him.  "None of you
know which shuttle she took, or where she went?"
	A few shook their heads, but no one dared to say anything.  To do so would
risk attracting Terrell.  It's funny, Sigmar thought.  We all follow him
because we believe in the same things he does, but that doesn't mean that we
like him.
	Terrell examined each face carefully for signs thatrea with the two other
small rooms.  "You get to wake up Dad."
	Flashing his grandfather a grin, he entered his bedroom, which was the one
at the end of the hallway, leaving Adama alone.  He was amused at Boxey's
behavior, especially since he remembered hearing about many evenings when
Apollo literally had to drag Boxey to bed.
	Thinking about his son, Adama glanced at the middle door, seeing that it
was shut.  Opening it, he expected to see darkness, but was surprised when
he was saw that the lights were on, along with the bedside computer
terminal.  Apollo, however, was fast asleep on his bed, with his back to
the door.
	Adama knew that the fact that Apollo didn't wake up immediately when the
door opened was sign that he hadn't fully recovered yet.  Warriors were
trained to have lightning-fast reflexes, which meant the difference between
life and death when it came to confrontations with Cylons.  Apollo, Adama
knew, had been one of the fastest before his capture.
	Not really wanting to wake  they knew something,
then did a quick head count to see who was missing.  He found that he could
account for them, knowing that they were all on duty at that centon.
	"Very well," he continued.  "My friends, it's time for us to act.  The
shuttle is completed, and as Sigmar and myself discovered, it works
perfectly.  We'll leave tomorrow.  Get your things together, because when I
saw so, we go."
	"What about the Vipers?" Joachim asked.  One of the youngest members of
Terrell's group, he had rarely doubted Terrell's words in the past.  Now it
was different because they were so close to their goal.  "How can we fend
them off?"
	"You're forgetting that the shuttle is as maneuverable as a Viper,
Joachim.  We also have more laser power than the Vipers."  Terrell gave him
a confident smile.  "We'll have no problems."
	"Yes, we will," a voice said from the entrance of the dinning area. 
Terrell looked up to see Lysa, who was assigned as a deckhand in the
Hephaestus' bays.  "We already do."
	"What's him, Adama walked around to the computer,
intent on turning off the terminal before leaving Apollo to continue
sleeping.  The computer was on its screen-saver mode, which told Adama that
Apollo had fallen asleep while reading.  Reaching out to turn it off, the
computer exited the screen-saver, returning to the text that Apollo had
been viewing.  Adama frowned as he studied the words.
	"Updates on personnel files in Blue Squadron," he muttered, frowning.  He
checked through the other files that Apollo had opened.  "Fuel consumption
reports...  Everything in Core Command's file system..."
	Glancing at his son's sleeping face with a disproving frown, Adama shook
his head.  Warriors on furlon weren't supposed to be going through the
personnel files, or anything else that had to do with duty.  But like he
always seemed to do, Apollo had found a way around the restrictions.
	"He's too much like me," Adama sighed as he shut the computer off.
	"Huh?" a sleepy voice asked, and Adama looked down to see ththat supposed to mean?" Terrell demanded, giving her a harsh look.
	"The shuttle's gone.  Wilker returned from the Galactica with two warriors
to bring it back with them."  She shook her head.  "What do we do now?"
	Stunned, Terrell sat down heavily.  They'd come so close to getting free of
fleet, only to have their only means of escape snatched out of their hands. 
A slight murmuring arose around him as he tried to think.
	Looking past his followers' faces, Terrell stared at the wall for a few
micron before something caught his eye.  Located in the opposite corner of
the hall was a monitor that was always tuned to the IFB.  At that micron, a
man recognizable as one of the old councilors was speaking.  Intrigued,
Terrell rose to turn the volume up.
	"...repeat myself.  A new piece of legislation has been passed to protect
you, the civilian, on the public gathering ships, including both the Rising
Star and the Pathmain.  All weapons, regardless of type, are banned from
these ships effective tomorat Apollo was
almost awake.  "Oh, afternoon, Father."
	Adama chuckled as he looked at his son's face.  He was very happy to see
that there weren't any traces of the horrible bruises that had been there a
secton ago.  "No, Apollo, it's the evening right now.  It's time for
Boxey's bedtime."
	"Is it really?"  Apollo sat up, rubbing his eyes.  "Last thing I remember,
Sheba came in here with some lunch.  It feels only like a few centars ago."
	"It was a bit more than a few," Adama told him, keeping his hand on the
computer.  "How are you feeling?"
	"I'm actually feeling pretty well.  I guess it's about time I showed my
face to the world, to show them that those rumors they've been hearing
about me being alive are true."  He chuckled slightly, then yawned.  He
looked at his father, then stopped as he saw what Adama was doing.  "Oh,
no..."
	"Oh, no, indeed," Adama said, tapping his fingers on the monitor.  "What
were you doing looking at these files?"
	"Uh..."  Apollo swallowed hard as he tried to row at 1300 centars."
	As the sire prepared to repeat himself for a third time, Terrell turned to
face his followers, a slow grin coming onto his features.
	"I propose that we give a small demonstration," he said, a confident tone
coming back into his voice.



Chapter Five

	Upon his return to the Rising Star, Starbuck avoided the area where he'd
left Cassiopia.  He truly regretted that he had blown up at her earlier,
but he still felt justified and hurt.  He wandered aimlessly about the
leisure ship's corridors before finally making a conscious decision to head
for the chancery.
	Sighing deeply, he looked around the crowded and brightly lit room.  For
once in his life, he didn't feel like heading to the tables for a hand of
Pyramid.  Instead he focused on looking for the slight, white-haired man.
	Chameleon was not to be found at any of the Pyramid tables.  Rather, he
was seated at a game of Seven-Eleven, a game that was similar to Pyramid.
True to form, he had a large stack of currency piled in front of him.
	In that sense, he really is my father, Starbuck realized, watching as
Chameleon played another hand, adding more cubits to his winnings.  And
he's using a system too.
	"One more hand," the old man said amiably, his blue eyes twinkling.
	"Yes, sir," the dealer answered as he dealt Chameleon a new hand.  He
glanced up as Starbuck approached the table and gave him a curious
expression.  "Lieutenant, would you like to join the game?"
	"No, thank you."
	Looking up from his hand, Chameleon smiled widely at the newcomer.
"Starbuck, how nice to see you.  Come watch the new system I've worked out."
	"I'm afraid that I don't know much about Orion Secrets," Starbuck admitted
as he took the empty stool next to Chameleon.
	"What better time than the present to learn, hmm?"  Chameleon studied his
hand.  "I'll keep these cards and bet these cubits."  He pushed forward
five of his stacks then leaned back, a self-satisfied smile on his wrinkled
face.
	"Ah, do you think that this is a gthink of a reason.  He knew
very well that he wasn't supposed to be doing any official work, but he had
never been very good at obeying some of his father's orders.  "I was bored.
 I needed something to do."
	"That's what the IFB is for.  They have all kinds of programming that you
can watch."  Adama shook his head as he realized something.  "Besides, I
could have sworn that I had Komma take off your password."
	"Well, I, um..." Apollo stuttered, feeling his face flush slightly, then
grinned as Boxey appeared at the doorway.  "Boxey!  Come in!  Spend some
time with your old dad!"
	The boy quickly jumped onto the bed and into Apollo's outstretched arms.
He missed the expression that his grandfather gave his father, saying that
the subject of the computer was definitely not closed.
	"Guess what I did tonight?" Boxey said after he gave Apollo a big hug.
	"What did you do?"
	"I beat Dillon at three-dimensional Triad!" he exclaimed, grinning.  "I
beat him by twelve points!  Isn't that cool?"
	"That's great, Boxey," Apollo told him, frowning slightly, "but you know
that you're not supposed to be playing with Dillon unless I --"
	"Grandpa said I could," Boxey told him, crossing his arms in a defiant
gesture.  Surprised, Apollo looked up at Adama, who raised his eyebrows in
a helpless expression.  Shooting him an angry look, Apollo looked back down
at his son as Boxey continued.  "Besides, his dad was there, too."
	"Well, I suppose this time it's all right, but you know the rules, Boxey."
 Apollo sighed.  "So what else did you do today?"
	"I've got a spelling test in a few days, so could you help me with that?"
He grinned as Apollo nodded.  "Good!  And Siress Jone told me that I've got
one of the highest marks in mathematics!  I can't wait to tell Starbuck!"
	"Yes, he helped you with your multiplication tables, didn't he?"  Apollo
grinned.  "I'm proud of you, Boxey.  I wish that I did that well in
mathematics when I was your age.  I had to have the tables drilled at me so
often that I startood idea?" Starbuck wondered, looking in
wonder at the symbols on the cards.  Even at the best of times and with the
greatest systems, Starbuck usually limited himself to only three or four
stacks.
	"Nothing to worry about.  It's all in the system."
	Smiling and nodding, Starbuck watched the play continue.  He suddenly
realized how Apollo felt when Starbuck was dangerously gambling with his
cubits.  Sighing, he watched as Chameleon won again.  As he pulled in his
winnings, Chameleon noticed the younger man's down expression.
	"Is there something wrong, Starbuck?"
	"Now that you mention it, there is.  Do you mind if we talk?"
	Chameleon's eyebrows lifted over his blue eyes as he glanced at the cubits
in front of him.  He finally shrugged.
	"Sure, just let me pick up my winnings."
	"Thanks," Starbuck told him as the older man put the cubits into his money
pouch.  "I really appreciate this... Father."
	The expression that came onto Chameleon's face could only be described as
disappointment.
	"Oed to recite them in my sleep."
	"Really?" Boxey laughed, especially when Adama nodded in agreement, then
suddenly became totally serious.  "Dad, when can we play some real Triad?
You're all better now, right?"
	He waited impatiently for an answer.  Before his capture, Apollo had
promised that he would teach Boxey how to play his favorite game, but it
had been postponed until Apollo had recovered from the injuries he received
on the basestar.  Boxey realized that he was so anxious to play that he
felt like he was going to burst inside.
	"I'm definitely feeling a lot better now," Apollo agreed, "and maybe after
we study some of your spelling tomorrow, we'll try it out for a centar or
so.  Does that sound good?"
	Boxey whooped and jumped on the bed in excitement.  Apollo laughed as
Boxey landed back on the bed with a thump that jarred the entire bed.
	"It sounds good to me," he told him.
	"Good.  Now, you'd better get to bed so you won't be tired.  I won't be
teaching any sleepy kids, understoodh, my," he said.   Putting the pouch on his belt, he led Starbuck into
the Astral Lounge.  "So Cassiopia did tell you, I see.  When did you find
out?"
	"A few centars ago.  I would have come see you earlier, but I was more
than a little angry."
	"I understand.  Well, let's find a table so I can explain things to you."
	"I'm right behind you."
	Chameleon located a table in the corner of the lounge.  He sat down and
motioned for Starbuck to do the same.
	"I think we need some ambrosa, too," the old man decided, and Starbuck
could tell that he was delaying his explanation for a few centons.  If he
even had an explanation.  "Well, I suppose that you'd like me to tell you
the truth.  Am I right?"
	"Yes."
	Sighing, Chameleon sat back in his chair as two glasses were placed in
front of them.  Neither man took theirs.
	"During the attack on Umbra, I really did get amnesia.  I wasn't lying
about that.  When I finally recovered yahrens later, I learnt that
Gabriella, my wife, was one of the casualties?"
	"Okay..."  Boxey laughed again, as he hugged Apollo, then sat quietly next
to him.  "I guess I have to say my prayers, right?"
	"That's right."
	Together, they started to recite Boxey's prayers, as Adama stood quietly
to the side.  Boxey recited them in a much louder voice than Apollo, and
Adama had to smile.  When Apollo was Boxey's age, he used to do the same
thing.  Somethings never change, he thought.
	When they reached the end, Apollo looked sharply at Boxey as the boy
continued, improvising, "And don't let Dad forget about the Triad lesson
tomorrow."
	"Okay, Boxey, off you go," Apollo said, smiling slightly at the boy's
addition.  He gave him one last hug, then motioned to Adama.  "Give your
delinquent grandfather a hug, too."
	Boxey obeyed him, giving Adama a large hug, then quickly left the room.
Apollo didn't say anything until he heard the door to his son's room shut,
and satisfied that it was closed, glanced at Adama's face before quickly
talking.
	"Well, I don't know about yo of the attack and the fate of
my son, Pepin, was unknown.  You, Starbuck, are Pepin."  Chameleon glanced
back at the chancery.  "When I ran into you two yahrens ago, it was a
complete coincidence.  I was actually running from the Borellian Nomen, as
you know."
	"Yeah," Starbuck said wryly, remembering the odd-looking humans and their
strange way of looking at life.  "Who could forget that?"
	A bittersweet smile appeared on Chameleon's lips.  "I know.  Starbuck, you
just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Although I
really did have a missing son, I was exploiting that aspect of your
background so you could protect me from my enemies.  It was only when I
realized that your friendship with Apollo and Boomer was in jeopardy, and
when you told me that you were going to quit the service, that I saw that
my con had gone too far.  I was going to tell you gently, but the Nomen
showed up and the truth was dragged out."
	"When did you actually find out that your con did have some truthu, but I'm hungry.  I haven't eaten anything
since Sheba brought that lunch in earlier, and I'm ready to eat almost
anything!" he said, getting out of bed.  "You?"
	"I'm hungry as well, but, Apollo, I think there's something we need to
clear up."  Adama frowned as he noted the guilty expression on Apollo's
face.  "About the computer...?"
	Apollo sighed as he went to the small closet to take one of his uniforms
off its hanger.  "What do you expect me to do?  Stay cooped up in this room
for centars on end, and not go stir-crazy with boredom?"
	"There's plenty of things for you to do," Adama pointed out, determined to
win this debate.  Although Apollo had long since passed his thirtieth natal
day, Adama sometimes had the impression that he needed to supervise Apollo
more now than he ever had to when his son was younger.
	"Name one thing, and I'll guarantee that I've already done it," Apollo
shot back, beginning to get feel slightly irritated.  "Look, Father, when
I'm on furlon, I spend my time doi to it?"
	"Just before our final talk with Adama, when he basically sentenced me to
the senior's ship.  Cassiopia told me, so I made her swear not to tell you.
 At least until you became sealed."
	Starbuck laughed slightly.  "Well, at least the timing's somewhat right."
	"Yes," Chameleon agreed.  "How much longer now?  Five sectars, isn't it?"
	"Yeah.  Father," Starbuck began, savoring how the word sounded for the
first time, "tell me something.  How old am I?"
	"You were born in the early part of 7321, so you're now thirty-three
yahrens."
	"Thirty-three?" he repeated.  "Hey, that means I'm older than Apollo!
Wait until I tell him that!  Still, Father, how could you actually believe
that I would go through with my words?  I'm infamous for not following
through with my threats.  Just ask Apollo or Boomer."
	Chameleon held up his hands.  "I had no way of checking without telling
the facts.  Your friends had already approached me once because they
suspected the truth about me."
	"Oh."
	The oldeng one of several things.  I spent time
with you, Boxey and Athena, as well as with my friends.  Or I might go off
to spend some time alone.  I might play Triad, or go to the Rising Star, or
I'll catch up on my sleep."
	"Yes, but --"
	"But, nothing.  I haven't finished."  Apollo frowned as he continued.
"Now, let's say that I'm ill with the flu.  While I'm rejuvenating, I'd
catch up on what I'm missing by going through the reports.  But now, since
I'm recovering from my injuries, those options are drastically cut down.  I
get to choose between sleeping and visiting.  Since most of the people I'd
visit have schedules of their own, and can't change them easily, that means
that I'm alone most of the time, which means that I've got nothing else to
do but sleep.  Father, I'm bored of sleeping."
	Adama was silent for a micron as he studied Apollo's face, then his entire
physique.  He could see that Apollo's recovery was almost complete, and
although he was still much thinner than he was supposed to br man smiled again.  "Listen, Starbuck, that's in the past.  I'm
not one who likes to focus on the past.  Instead, I'd rather we concentrate
on the future, on what kind of relationship we could have.  What do you
think?"
	"I'm not sure," he began.  "I'll just have to think about it, Father."
	His blue eyes sympathetic, Chameleon nodded, then reached for his ambrosa.
 "I understand, my boy.  I'm sorry, too, for all this trouble."
	"What's life without problems?" Starbuck quipped, beginning to feel a
little better.
	"To a new beginning?" Chameleon asked, lifting his ambrosa slightly.  He
knew that his proposal sounded corny, but he'd always liked a little bit of
corniness in his life.
	"A new beginning."  Touched by his father's statement, he lifted his
glass, and they both took a sip.  "You don't know how much better that
makes me feel."
	"Good."  Chameleon smiled, as though he were feeling better, too.  "Now go
talk to that fiancee of yours."
	"I guess you're right," Starbuck said reluctantlye, Adama knew
that he'd gain the weight back in time.  Reluctantly, he nodded.
	"Well, I suppose that it's time for you to return to duty," he said, and
was rewarded by Apollo's enormous grin.  "But, I insist that we discuss
this completely beforehand, and check with Doctor Salik, as well.  Since
you're so hungry, why don't we discuss it on the way to Galactica's mess
hall?"
	"That's a first," Apollo joked, still grinning.  "My father's taking me
out for dinner.  Well, if that's the case, I think I'm in the mood for some
Orion fish, and maybe some --"
	"You can have whatever you want," Adama told him, "as long as it's protein
and mushies."
	"Oh, what enormous and original selection.  Maybe we should get some new
chefs."  Apollo motioned to the door.  "I'll be out in a centon."
	Adama returned to the living area, closing the door behind him.  He sat on
the couch that Apollo had placed facing the main doorway, all the while
trying to prepare himself for the conversation he knew he would have wit, not sure if he wanted
to face Cassiopia just yet.  "I'll see you later, Father."
	 Giving Chameleon one last smile, he left the older man in the lounge.

	Apollo showed up in the Life Center for his examination a few centons
after Cassiopia went on duty.  She was still in a bad mood after the events
of the night before, and when she greeted Apollo, he appeared to be in the
same kind of mood.  That suited her fine, because she wasn't up to any in
depth conversation.  As she ran the scanner over the length of Apollo's
body, her mind continually returned to the dinner with Starbuck, and not
for the first time, she wondered if there'd been another way for her to
break the news to him.
	Maybe if I'd simply explained to him that Chameleon had set it up, he
wouldn't have been as angry at me, she mused.  Or if I just sent him to
Chameleon, or maybe accompanied him myself.  Oh, frak, why am I blaming
myself?  It's Chameleon's fault, not mine!
	A little more testily than she intended, she turned sharph
his son.  It wouldn't be an easy one, he knew that for a fact, but he knew
that he had no other options available to him.
	I don't want Apollo back as a pilot for another few sectons, he thought.
I know he's not ready yet, and Kobol knows what he might do if faced with a
Cylon attack.  He might freeze, or he might go ballistic, or some other
reaction that will end up with him getting himself killed.
	He stared at the wall for a few microns, trying to compose himself.  He
jumped a few microns later when Apollo touched him lightly on the shoulder.
	"You ready to go, Father?" he asked.
	"What?"  Adama looked at him, then nodded.  "Yes, I'm ready."
	They left Apollo's quarters for the hallway.  They walked in silence for a
few microns when Apollo decided to speak.

	"So..." he began, walking with his hands clasped behind his back, "when am
I going to go back on duty?"
	Here we go, Adama thought, taking a deep breath.  "Very soon, I think.
Now, Apollo, I want you to hear what I have to say.  I cly away from
Apollo to the main medical computer to analyze the scan, silently
condemning Chameleon for everything he'd done.  She angrily hit the
computer keys for the proper processing, then waited for the result to come
up.
	"Well?" Apollo asked from the examination table a few centons later,
leaning back on his elbows.  "What does it say?"
	"Wait a centon!" she snapped, seeing Apollo's image reflected on the
monitor's screen.  He was visibly wincing at her words, his eyes wide with
surprise.  "Sorry, Apollo, I didn't mean to bite your head off.  I'm just a
little... distracted today."
	He smiled slightly.  "I know the feeling."
	Something about the way he said that told her that he already knew about
the fight, but she didn't feel like discussing it just yet.  She was saved
from bringing it up when the readout began to scroll onto the screen, and
she pressed a few buttons for it to emit a printout.  "Here we go."
	"Go ahead."
	She scanned through it for a micron, then gave Apollo the brigan see that you've
made a very good recovery, and in fact, Doctors Salik and Cassiopia think
that you're almost completely recovered.  However, it's very clear that
you're still not quite your old self.  I feel that the wisest choice for
you at this time is to be trained and assigned as one of the Galactica's
bridge officers."
	"Excuse me?" Apollo said, stopping in mid-stride so he could face Adama.
His green eyes were narrowed.  "Did you just say bridge officer, Father?"
	"You heard me correctly.  I think that this would be an ideal assignment
for you while you rejuvenate."
	"But I'm not a bridge officer," Apollo pointed out.  "I'm a fighter pilot."
	"Your sister is a pilot and a bridge officer," Adama told him.  "Before
Zac was a pilot, he was a computech.  If your own siblings can do more than
one duty, I'm sure you can do the same."
	"I'm...  But I'm..."  Apollo sighed, then accused, "You know, Father, by
the sound of your voice, it sounds like you've already made up your mind."
	"I don't htest smile
she could under the circumstances.  "Good news.  It says here that you're
almost fully recovered."
	"That's almost the same diagnosis as last time," Apollo complained, but
Cassiopia could see that he was relieved nonetheless to hear the words.  He
adopted a light, bantering tone.  "I want a refund."
	"It's not finished yet," she told him, smiling at his reaction.  "Now, it
says that your body weight is still below what it was before you were
captured, but you'll gain it back soon enough."  She gave him a pointed
smile.  "Just make sure you don't gain too much!  I don't think Sheba would
appreciate you with a pot belly."
	"I'll follow your instructions to the letter," he promised.
	"Good.  It appears you're rested, which is good.  You're not on duty just
yet, so what have you been doing to occupy yourself?"
	"You mean besides the times I was sleeping?" Apollo said with a wry grin.
"Why do you think I'm so rested?  Yesterday's the first time I was really
out of my quarters for an extwant to force you into anything," Adama said, then motioned to
the hallway ahead of them.  "Shall we keep on walking?  We can still talk
as we go."
	"Fine," Apollo grumbled as they started walking again.  "Father, you're
the commander.  You can tell me to do anything.  But that --"
	"That doesn't mean that you're going to like it," Adama finished for him.
"I know.  Now, if I didn't offer this opportunity, I know that you'd be
going back immediately to your Viper post.  What are you going to do when
you go into your first battle?"
	"My first battle?" Apollo repeated, frowning.  "I'd do what I normally do
during a battle.  Command the other pilots, and aim for a victory.  Why?"
	Adama sighed, shaking his head.  "Apollo, I don't think you're facing what
happened last secton.  You were captured by Cylons, and they tortured you.
You've escaped some of that trauma with your amnesia, but we don't know
what kind of situation will make your memories come out."
	"My amnesia, my foot," Apollo snapped, butended amount of time.  Boxey and I had a game
of Triad during the afternoon.  Just before I was captured, I promised him
that I would show him, and it's one promise I'm determined not to break to
him."
	She nodded, remembering how devastated Boxey had been when Apollo was
reported as killed in action.  Starbuck, bless his heart, had offered to
teach him how to play the game, but it just hadn't been the same for Boxey.
	"There's nothing wrong with that," Cassiopia told him, "but you have to be
careful not to wear yourself out.  You probably don't have your stamina
back yet, either, am I right?"
	"I felt like an old man while Boxey was literally running circles about
me," Apollo laughed.  "I don't know what I'm going to do when he finally
outgrows me."
	"Well, as long as Boxey does most of the running, you'll be fine."  She
glanced back at the printout.  "Is there any place that's been bothering
you lately?"
	"Yeah, now that you mention it, there's one spot that's been aching on and
off for the Adama could tell by his
reaction that he was trying to avoid it.  The traumatic experience,
combined with the brief period of approximately eight centons when Apollo
had been medically dead, had completely blocked out all recollection he
could have about his nine days on the basestar.  "I don't see what that has
to do with anything."
	"It has to do with everything.  Son, if your amnesia goes away during a
battle, how are you going to handle this?  I'm afraid that you might do
something dangerous.  You might even end with getting yourself and several
other pilots killed.  I can't risk that happening, ever."  Adama stopped
walking again and put his hand on Apollo's arm, making him stop as well.
"We already nearly lost you once, and I don't want to lose you again
unnecessarily."
	A slight smile appeared on Apollo's face.  "I think I know what you mean.
Thanks, Father, I think that made it a little easier for me."
	"I'm glad."  Adama smiled and gave his son a hug.  It lasted for a few
microns, th past day or two."  He touched the base of his ribs on the right
side.  "It's not hurting now, but when it does, it's rather annoying."
	Cassiopia couldn't help smiling.  "I can guess why.  According to Boomer,
Starbuck used you as a kind of landing pad when he was captured by the
Cylons.  The same time he received his concussion, I think.  There's
probably still some residual bruising."
	"That's just like him.  Killing two avians with one stone."  Apollo shook
his head.  "Remind me to thank him the next time I see him."
	With Starbuck being brought into the conversation, they both fell silent,
and Cassiopia knew for certain that Apollo knew about the fight.  Why
shouldn't he?  He and Starbuck are almost joined at the hip when it comes
to some things.
	"Hey, there!" Boomer's soft voice interrupted the silence between the two.
 He was surprised to see both Apollo and Cassiopia appear relieved at his
arrival.  "Have I missed much?"
	"Apollo's going to be fine," Cassiopia said, noticing that the ten he let go of him.  "Athena will train you in the next day or
two.  It's something for you to look forward to."
	Apollo's smiled turned wry.  "Just don't expect me to get excited, though."
	"Oh, of course not," Adama laughed.  He looked over and noticed that the
mess hall was a few metrons ahead of them.  "Shall we go in?"
	"Absolutely!"
	The mess hall was partly filled at the centar of the evening, but the food
was still plentiful.  Apollo and Adama both grabbed a tray and filled them
with food.  Adama noticed with amusement that Apollo was taking more food
than him.
	"Where do you want to sit?" he asked, watching as Apollo grabbed a few
pieces of bread with his left hand as he balanced the tray with his right.
"And be careful.  I don't think it'll make a good impression if you spill
everything all over the floor."
	"I knew working in that restaurant when I was sixteen was going to do me
some good sometime in the future."  Apollo glanced around the mess hall,
then grinned widely as he spottwo men
were exchanging knowing looks.  She immediately sensed that something was
up.  "And I assume that Starbuck's told you both about last night?"  Their
slightly guilty expressions told her everything.
	"Yes," Apollo said.  "He wants us to talk to you for him."
	"Why isn't he coming to me himself?" she demanded.  "He's just making you
two do his dirty work."
	"He was really upset when we talked to him on the Pathmain," Boomer began.
	"And I think he's looking for Chameleon," Apollo finished.
	"Well, I suppose that's good."  She sighed as she sat on the closest
surface.  Boomer took a nearby chair while Apollo remained on the examining
table.  "You two remember how Starbuck was acting back then.  He wasn't
being rational at all.  When Chameleon learned about the results, he made
me swear to keep the truth from him.  I had no choice in the matter."
	"You're right about him not being rational," Boomer said.  "I remember how
he blew up at Apollo when he learned that we'd run a security check on
ed Starbuck alone in the far corner.  "I
think I see a potential victim over there."
	"I'll follow you."
	As they made their way to Starbuck's table, Adama noticed that a few of
the personnel were having double-takes when they saw Apollo passing by.  A
few looked away to go back to whatever they were doing, but a few continued
staring.  It made Adama feel slightly uncomfortable, and he knew that if he
was feeling any discomfort at their gawking, he knew that Apollo was
feeling it even more.
	"Hey, do you have some room here for a prodigal captain and a nostalgic
commander?" Apollo greeted, setting down his tray across from Starbuck, who
looked up and grinned.  "Or do you just want to sit here by yourself and
keep your nose in your food?"
	"Apollo!" his friend said, laughing.  "Sit, I insist.  I didn't think I'd
see you out of your room for another day or two.  Good evening, Commander."
	"And to you, Lieutenant," Adama returned, taking the seat next to Starbuck.
	"Tell me, Starbuck, what've you
Chameleon, but what else would make Chameleon ask that?"
	"For one thing, Starbuck was going to throw everything away to be with
Chameleon.  Both of you, me, the warriors, everything.  All that he had.
Chameleon told me that we could tell him when Starbuck became sealed."
	"But you two aren't sealed yet," Apollo pointed out.  "Unless... he wasn't
going to tell Starbuck anyway?"
	"No, that's the thing.  I've reminded him a few times, and I even checked
the Genetic Tracing results.  Chameleon's gone so far as to delete the entry!"
	Apollo's jaw dropped.  "That's pretty serious!"
	"I know.  Come look."  She motioned for them to follow her to the office
that she shared with Doctor Salik, and sat down at the small computer.
Accessing the database, she called up Chameleon's record first.  The
"closest matches" area contained two names, neither of which were
Starbuck's.  "See?"
	She felt both men looking over her shoulders, and she could hear Apollo
reading the results out loud under his breath.  A f been up to lately?" Apollo asked as he
started to eat.  "I haven't seen you in a day or two."
	"Patrols, patrols, and what else?  Let me see... did I miss anything?"
Starbuck paused as he pushed his plate away.  "That's right.  More patrols."
	"That bad, huh?"
	"It's not bad, but it's not great, either.  I'm pretty convinced that the
Cylons are in retreat after the licking we gave Baltar," Starbuck told
them.  "I don't think we'll be seeing them for another few sectons.  Or at
least I hope so."
	"Yes, you may have a point," Adama said.  "I think that depending on what
the next patrol reports, I might downgrade the full alert to a standby."
	"I think I'm speaking on the behalf of every single warrior in the fleet,
Commander, when I say, 'Please!'" Starbuck grinned, looking hopeful.
	"I'm glad that I'm not missing much," Apollo muttered.  "Maybe I should
take convalescent leave more often."
	"Don't you dare think about something like that," Starbuck snapped, then,
seeing the slightly surprised ew names had been added
since Cassiopia last checked, and she guessed that they were the people who
were always guaranteed to show up with these tests.  They were individuals
who were related to the given person within the past ten generations, and
they never really amounted to much.
	"I bet that some of those are on Starbuck's, as well," Apollo said.  "Are
the names in any given order?"
	"They're supposed to be listed according to the degree of relation.  So
the last one is a cousin from maybe the tenth generation,  while the third
one up might be related from the fourth."
	"Oh.  Well, let's check Starbuck's, then."
	She nodded as she called up the second record.  A few of the names that
were on Chameleon's record were there as well, along with two or three new
ones which she assumed came from whomever Starbuck's mother was.
	"Chameleon was pretty thorough," Boomer agreed, "but I'm willing to bet
that they're both listed on someone else's record.  Like, say, that one."
	"Probably."  Apollo glexpression on Apollo's face, quickly added,
"and, yes, I know that's just a joke.  Anyway, I can't wait until you're
back on duty.  Being stuck with the infatuated Boomer on patrol is worse
than flying with an infatuated you.  When are you coming back on duty, by
the way?"
	Apollo shot Adama a hard look, which made the commander clear his throat
uncomfortably.
	"What do you know," he said, pushing his chair back.  "I forgot to get a
drink when I was up there.  Can I get either of you anything?"
	"A drink would be great, Father.  Thanks."
	Adama looked at Starbuck.  "Lieutenant?"
	"No, I'm fine with my drink.  But," he quickly added, "if there are any
mushies left, I'd love another one."
	"I'll see what I can find."
	Watching the commander get up, Starbuck was about to continue eating when
Apollo jabbed him in the arm and motioned for him to lean close.
	"I need help," he whispered to Starbuck as soon as Adama was out of
earshot.  "Father found my computer logged into Core Command's main databanced down at Cassiopia, then at the tracing
project's database.  "Hey, do you mind if I look through this for a micron,
Cass?"
	"No, go ahead.  I'll put some stuff and finish the report on your medical
exam.  After that..."  She glanced at Boomer.  "I guess you two have to
decide what you're going to talk to Starbuck about, hmm?"
	"Aren't you going to talk to him?" Boomer asked, frowning.
	"I wish I could, and trust me, I really want to.  I'm just a little
cautious that he hasn't come yet, and besides, I've got this shift for the
next few centars."  Cassiopia shook her head.  "And if he's with Chameleon
like you suggested, Apollo, then they're going to talk for a good number of
centars."
	"True enough," Apollo muttered as Boomer followed Cassiopia out to the
main part of the Life Center.  Settling himself into the vacant chair, he
started a new search, this time using his own name instead of Starbuck's.
He settled back in the chair, waiting for the results to come up.
	He wasn't completely suase."
	Starbuck rolled his eyes.  "What did I tell you about that?  Turn it off
when you're done!  How did he find it, anyway?"
	"I, uh, must have fallen asleep while I was looking through the personnel
rosters," he admitted, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment.  "And,
no, it's not because those are boring files."
	"You could have fooled me.  Look, why don't you spend some time looking at
the latest stuff from the IFB?  Or some of the new literature that's
available?"
	"Been there, done that," Apollo yawned.  "I've either already read it, or
it's felger that should be thrown out.  In any case, Starbuck, if you
haven't noticed, I'm bored out of my mind!  I need some semblance of
normalcy!  That means reading reports!  Analyzing things!  Work!  I'm not
the kind of person who can sit on their astrum for centars on end while
doing nothing!  And if Father's not going to give it to me, then I'm going
to have to get it myself."
	"Okay, okay, buddy, I get the picture."  Starbuck held up his hare what he was looking for, a hint perhaps of
something that would either prove or disprove what Athena had shown him the
night before.  Appy's Art was something struck too close to home for him.
It had been the way he'd addressed a very special person when he was
younger, someone he had every reason to believe was dead.
	He'd never been one to swear much in his life, especially given that he
was in a profession where profane language was more a norm than any other
kind of speech.  When the results Apollo had been half dreading appeared on
the screen, he didn't let his past reputation stop him as he let out a
string of the vilest epithets his shocked mind could think of.
	"Frak, felgercarb and shit!"

* * *
	Back in the central area, Boomer was musing out loud on what to do with
Starbuck when they met back up with him.   "When we talk to him, I suppose
that the first thing we'll make clear to him is that you had no choice in
the matter to begin with, despite the fact that you really thought thnds to
fend off Apollo's venting.  "Here, until I can fix you up with a new
password, I'll give you mine.  It doesn't have the same access that yours
did, but you're resourceful.  And, please, don't blow this one?"
	"I won't.  I promise."
	"I'm still debating whether or not I should trust you," Starbuck told him.
 "Remember, I can only get to the computron lab every once in a while, or
else Komma's going to get suspicious.  He's still gunning for me after that
little incident when I lured him away to gawk at those female cadets you
were lecturing while I, um, made a slight addition to the mission roster."
	"I don't blame him.  Frankly, Starbuck, I almost was, myself.  Now,"
Apollo narrowed his eyes as he leaned closer to his friend, "your password,
buddy.  What is it?"
	"Hades, Apollo, did you know that you're threatening when you want
something?  It's 'Pineus,'" Starbuck told him, then frowned as Apollo
started laughing.  "What?"
	"Your password is the place where I lost all those cubits?" Apat he
should know the truth."
	"That's basically it," she said, nodding as she put away the scanner.
"Look, Boomer, I appreciate what you and Apollo are doing.  I don't know
what I'd do if it weren't for you two."
	"What are friends for?" Boomer smiled.
	"So, how are you and Athena doing?" she asked, a sly smile coming onto her
face.
	"Just fine.  We've spent time together every evening in the past secton,"
he told her.  "It's strange, you know.  With Dietra, I sometimes got the
impression that I was crowding her when we spent a lot of time together,
and that she didn't appreciate it.  It's the complete opposite with Athena."
	"She's a lot like Apollo," Cassiopia commented quietly, glancing back at
the office as she made sure that this part of the conversation wasn't
overheard.  To her relief, Apollo seemed completely absorbed with what he
was viewing on the monitor.  "When her relationship ended with Starbuck,
she did practically the same thing that Apollo did when he lost Serina.
They both ollo
snorted, trying not to laugh very loudly.  "I'm seriously surprised that no
one's figured it out yet."
	"The secret, Apollo, is that no one thinks that I'm stupid enough to use a
simple one like that.  They all think that I'd use a complicated series of
letters and numbers like you do.  You know, something like 'ABC123' or
'A9B8C7.'"
	"Well, thanks, Starbuck," Apollo told him, as he grinned widely.  "I owe
you one."
	"A big one, might I add...  I'll probably call it the next time we're
playing Triad, or when we're out flying.  How many times is this now?  I'm
starting to lose track..." He grinned.  "So, when are they putting you back
on duty?"
	"Depends what you mean by duty," Apollo muttered, looking away.
	"You know... duty, as in duty?  Flying?  Vipers?  Your job?"  Starbuck
noticed the morose expression on Apollo's face, which surprised him.  He'd
been so cheerful a few microns before.  Concerned, he reached out to touch
Apollo on the arm.  "Hey, buddy, what's wrong?  Was it somethinretreated into their own shells and refused to come out for
anyone.  Apollo finally broke out with Sheba, but it's taken Athena much
longer than him.  I think she's lucky to have found you, Boomer.  You're
just what she needs."
	A slightly sheepish expression came onto Boomer's face, which was usually
the only way Cassiopia could tell that he was embarrassed.  "You think so?"
	"Trust me on it.  When it's time to back off, she'll let you know one way
or another."
	Boomer chuckled slightly as they headed back to the office.  "What do you
know, we're a mutual advice and support society."
	"Like you said.  What are friends for?"
	The sound of the ship-wide unicom activating made them look up as they
approached the office.  Cassiopia exchanged a glance with Boomer as they
hurried to catch what was being announced.  Both prayed that it didn't mean
a new Cylon attack.
	"Attention all crew, this is Commander Adama.  Last evening, at the most
recent meeting of the Council of Twelve, it has been decidedg I said?"
	"No, not really."  Apollo sighed as he glanced at his father.  "I'm not
going back to being a pilot immediately.  Sometime within the next few
days, I'll begin training to become a bridge officer."
	Starbuck had to stop himself from staring in surprise.  "Bridge officer,
huh?  Well, it'll be good experience for you.  What station, do you know?"
	"Probably Athena's.  Apparently, they don't have a full replacement for
her regular shift yet, and until they get a permanent one, that'll be
mine," Apollo said, not looking very happy.  "I'm beginning to doubt that
I'll ever get to see the inside of a cockpit again."
	"Don't say that!" Starbuck chided him.  "I know that you're supposed to be
the pessimist of us two, but you're doing it too well right now.  Lighten
up!  Besides, Athena did the exact opposite of you, going from being a
bridge officer to a pilot, and she survived.  You will, too."
	"Do I look like Athena?" Apollo snapped, glaring at him.  "I'm not going
to last five centons."
 that a new
piece of legislation will be passed aboard both the Rising Star and the
Pathmain.  The basic content of this rule bars all warriors from boarding
either ship while armed for any reason, including Triad games and all
furlon activities.  All warriors must either sign in their laser pistols
before entering the facilities, or leave their sidearms aboard the
Galactica.  I must add here now that this law also applies to any armed
civilians as well as Council security.  The only exceptions to this law are
officers with permission from either the Council, a tribunal or myself."
	"What's this?" Boomer frowned, surprised at the announcement.
	"This edict goes into effect this afternoon.  If anyone has any
commentaries, these comments are to be directed to my office.  As always,
thank you for your co-operation.  Adama out."
	"Well, that's interesting," the lieutenant mused as Adama's voice finished
speaking.  He glanced over at his friend at the computer.  "What do you
think, Apollo?"
	"What?
	"Yes, you are going to last five centons, and actually, you look a lot
like her.  After all, you're Athena's brother.  Now, eat."  Starbuck
glanced over to where Adama was, and noticed that the commander was on his
way back.  "Okay, button your lip about the computer business.  And the
bridge officer stuff, too.  Let's have a happy dinner."
	"What did I miss?" Adama asked, placing the extra drinks and the mushies
in front of them.  "You two looked like you were having fun."
	"You might say that," Starbuck said, smiling.  He gave Apollo's shin a
hard tap with his boot to get his friend to put on a cheerful expression.
The smile Apollo gave wasn't exactly what Starbuck wanted, but it would
have to do.
	"Anything you'd like to share?"  Adama directed his gaze at Apollo.  He
was determined to find out the truth to the computer incident, and as he
had been watching the two talk, he'd had a hunch.  His son wasn't a
computer expert, but he was sitting directly across from one.  Of course,
it has to "  Apollo looked up from the printout he'd made while the two were
out, a frown on his face.  Something about his bearing told Cassiopia that
he hadn't heard his father's words, and that the bad mood he'd been in when
he first entered had returned in full force.  "Sorry, I wasn't listening."
	"You missed that whole announcement?" Boomer pressed, looking a little
startled.  "Over the unicom?"
	"I guess so.  I've got something a little more important on my hands."
Apollo returned his attention to the paper for another few microns, then
stood up.  "Thanks, Cassiopia, for letting me use this.  We'll talk to
Starbuck the first chance we get.  In the meantime, I've got some things I
want to look into."
	"Here."  Cassiopia handed him a folder of print-outs before he could
leave.  "Play messenger to your father, too, all right?"
	"Sure."  He took them, then glanced at Boomer.  "We'll talk to Starbuck
later this afternoon.  I've got to go."
	"Whatever."  Boomer watched him leave in a hurry, then raised be Starbuck.  Who else could do something like that?
	"Not really," Apollo replied.
	"Nothing a commander would be interested in, I'm sure," Adama continued,
seeing that he was beginning to get to Apollo, who frowned at his father's
words.
	"What would make you think that?" Apollo shot back.  His expression
started to become slightly innocent, and Starbuck decided to play along by
doing the same.
	"Apollo, you could never fool me with that expression when you were a
child, and nothing's changed," Adama told him.  "And you, Starbuck, are
just encouraging him.  Don't think that I'm not onto you."
	"Why am I always to blame?" Starbuck muttered, still looking innocent,
then leaned forward as he decided to change the subject.  "Hey, Commander,
have you heard anything about the Genetic Tracing Project?"
	"Yes, I have," the commander said, but Starbuck could tell that Adama was
reluctant to leave the subject of Apollo's mysterious computer access alone
for the time being.  "The first results came in an eyebrow
in curiosity.  "That is a man with a problem on his mind.  Too bad I don't
know what it is, but that's the second time he's rushed off like that.  He
did the same thing last night on the Pathmain, but he dragged Athena and
Sheba with him that time."
	"It must be important," Cassiopia mused.
	"Maybe."  He sighed, then turned to her to give her a quick hug.  "You
know, Cass, I'm positive that everything is going to work out with you and
Starbuck.  It'll just take a bit of explaining, but he'll be fine.  Don't
worry."
	"Thanks, Boomer.  I'm trying not to worry, or at least not too much."
Cassiopia smiled as Boomer left, then went back to work.  Unlike Apollo,
she found that her bad mood had lifted slightly.

	On the bridge, Omega closed the Galactica's unicom as Commander Adama
turned to find Tigh giving him an odd look.  Giving a short sigh, Adama
smiled at him.  He'd known that there were many opinions about this
disarmament act, and somehow, he knew that Tigh would be one of the doearlier this evening, and
they should be available to the rest of the fleet sometime tomorrow."
	Starbuck nodded as he looked down at his drink, a thoughtful expression on
his face.  Apollo noticed his friend's reaction and, remembering the fiasco
that had occurred around Chameleon three yahrens before, poked his friend
in the arm to get his attention.
	"Something good's going to turn up this time, Starbuck, I'm sure of it,"
he told him.
	"Oh, I don't know.  To tell you the truth, I'm not holding my breath.
After all I went through with Chameleon, I doubt that I'll ever find
someone who's really related to me.  Beside any children I might have in
the future, that is."
	"Or any you might have now?" Apollo added, laughing as Starbuck threatened
to throw him a punch.  "Sorry, I couldn't help myself with that one."
	"Watch it, buddy, or your amnesia might get permanent."  Starbuck shook
his head in resignation at Apollo's mocking grin, then continued.  "No, I
think I've made myself accept the factubters.
	"What was that all about?" the colonel asked.  "I know you're a politician
and all, Adama, but this is the first time I've actually seen them rub off
onto you."
	"There's a perfectly logical explanation for this, Tigh," he explained
gently.  "It's for the protection of the civilians, and also for their
mental well-being.  Apparently, there's been complaints about the armed
warriors ever since Lieutenant Ortega was killed over two yahrens ago."
	"I suppose.  How organized is it going to be?" Tigh asked.  "Who's in
charge of making sure the warriors, and I can't forget the civilians,
aren't bringing the weapons in?  And how about the storage of these
weapons?  I'm willing to bet that it's Council security, because we
certainly can't spare the extra warriors for that kind of duty."
	"Yes, it will be Council security," Adama told him.  "If you want, you can
work out the arrangements with Sires Montrose and Feo, along with the head
of the force.  I don't foresee any problems in that."
	"I  that my past is completely closed to
me, and that I'll never know anything other than I was about two yahrens
old, and that I was probably born around the Umbra area.  Does the rest
really matter?"
	"I don't know," Apollo said.  "Does it?"
	"You weren't supposed to answer that," Starbuck grumbled.  "It was
rhetorical question."
	"But seriously, Starbuck, do you think it matters?"
	"That's what I don't know..." Starbuck said.  "I mean, you two can trace
your ancestors back how many generations?"
	Apollo and Adama glanced at each other, then the commander spoke.  "Quite
a few, anyway.  Starbuck, I think what you have to consider is if it really
bothers you not to know where you came from."
	"And that's what I don't know."  Starbuck sighed.  "And that's why I try
not to think about it."
	Smiling sympathetically to his friend's situation, Apollo mused, "It's
times like these when I wonder what I'm going to say when Boxey wants to
know about his real parents.  I know a bit about Serina's family, do.  It means working with politicians.  Sorry, Adama, but I think that
most of them have their heads stuck too far up their own--"  Tigh cut
himself off, trying to rephrase his words so they didn't come out
offensively.  "A lot of them aren't aware of the real situations going on
among the people.  Not that I'm saying that I know anymore than they do,
but it's just that they're not looking at the whole picture.  They never do."
	A slight smile came onto Adama's face.  "Well, Old Friend, it might be
time for you to bring their attention to that fact.  That is, after all,
one purpose of being an advisor to the Council, and the Lords of Kobol
know, the Council needs all the advising it can get."
	"Maybe.  It'll be something to think about," Tigh conceded.  He was about
to say something more when Omega interrupted their conversation.
	"Commander, Lieutenant Starbuck is calling to speak with you," he said.
	"Does he say what he wants?"
	"To put it politely," the tall bridge officer began, looking amabout
where they came from and stuff like that, but when it comes to Boxey's real
father, practically nothing.  All I know is that Serina gave birth to him
when she was in university, and that she never saw the father again.  I
don't even know the man's name."
	"At least someone knows what I'm going through," Starbuck sighed again.
	Adama wanted to add something, seeing that the originally cheerful
atmosphere had dissipated into the two of them thinking about lost
opportunities.  He wished that they hadn't moved to gloomier topics, and
was about to change the subject again when the intercom activated.
	"Commander Adama, please report to the bridge immediately," Rigel's voice
announced.  "Commander Adama, please report to the bridge."
	Starbuck, who had tensed up when the announcement came on, relaxed at
Rigel's words.  "For a micron there, I thought she was announcing a new
attack.  Thank Kobol, she didn't."
	"What do you think they want?" Apollo wondered.
	"Oh, probably just a minor problem wused, "he
wishes an audience with you to discuss this new law."
	"Very well.  Inform the lieutenant that I'll meet him when this duty
period is finished."
	"Uh, with all due respect, sir, Lieutenant Starbuck prefers to meet with
you now."
	Adama sighed.  "He does?  All right, then.  Tell him that I will meet with
him in my quarters in five centons."
	"Aye, sir."
	"Well," Adama began, sighing again, "I, for some reason, had the
misconception this morning that this day was going to turn out all right.
Tigh, you have the bridge.  I should be back within the centar."
	"Is that realistically," the colonel wanted to know, "or just a hopeful
estimate?"
	"Knowing Starbuck, anything is possible," he admitted.  "I'll see you soon."
	Leaving the bridge, he quickly hurried down to his quarters.  No sooner
had he settled into his chair than the doorchime went off, and Starbuck
entered before he could give permission.  Following him into the room was a
small group of higher ranking pilots  including Shebaith one of the ships in the fleet that
needs my attention," Adama guessed, pushing his chair back to stand up.
"Or the worst case scenario is that the Council is up to something again.
Have a good evening, you two."



Chapter Three

	When Adama arrived on the bridge, it was nearing the end of gamma shift.
The officers who were sitting at the various stations were starting to get
antsy, and Adama smiled slightly as he saw them straighten up to pay
attention to the displays as he walked by.  He decided not to attract any
attention to them, knowing that they only had ten centons or so before the
shift ended.
	Tigh and Omega were up on the command deck.  Omega was finishing up some
sort of computer work in the last few centons before his replacement
arrived, and Tigh was leafing through a handful of reports.
	"You called, Colonel?" Adama asked, glancing around the bridge one final
time before giving Tigh his full attention.  Everything was in order, and
whatever battle damage the bridge had r, Jolly and Boomer.
As he watched them enter, Adama had the impression that Starbuck had just
pulled them unwittingly into the conference.  He was surprised, however, to
see that neither of his children were present.  He then remembered that
Athena was on patrol, but that didn't explain Apollo's absence.
	"The first thing I want to know is how this stupid law got passed!"
Starbuck said before Adama could say a word.  "It makes about the same
sense as expecting the Cylons to start doing a jig."
	"This is for the benefit of the civilians, Starbuck," Adama said, feeling
slightly annoyed at having to repeat his earlier message.  "Which part of
the announcement didn't you understand?"
	"All of it.  Commander, we need our lasers!  I mean, look at the violent
events that have occurred on the Rising Star since you opened the ship for
public use."  Starbuck started counting off his fingers.  "The Borellian
Nomen and Ortega's murder two and a half yahrens ago.  The thievery that
seems to go on during celeceived was completely repaired.
	"Yes, sir," the black colonel replied, looking up from the reports.
"Lieutenant Dietra and Ensign Brie are on their way up from the bays to
make their reports on their patrol."
	"Ah, I see."  Adama studied his old friend's face for a few microns.  "I
take that it's good news then?"
	"They weren't racing back with news of a Cylon attack, so apparently it's
good news," Tigh agreed, returning his attention to the reports with a
distracted expression.  He looked like he was about to say something, but
then decided against it.
	"Colonel?" Adama pressed, frowning slightly.  "Is there something wrong?"
	"I have a funny feeling," Tigh admitted.  He put the reports down and
sighed.  "It's just... too quiet."
	"Are you talking about the Cylons?" Adama wondered, glancing at the
scanner screen.  As he expected, it was empty of any pursuing ships, not
that he was expecting any to show up anytime soon.  It was a habit born out
of two yahrens on the run, and even if the day ebrations in the various lounges.  A few small
riots.  Supposedly, there's even a crime organization who use the Rising
Star as their meeting ground.  Need I go on?"
	"What Starbuck is trying to say," Boomer cut in, trying to calm his
friend's exasperation, "is that most warriors feel more comfortable having
their lasers with them.  No one can tell what might happen there."
	"I understand your protests, but I think that I should add here that all
weapons are banned.  This includes civilian weapons and Noman laser balls,
and it isn't as though we were proposing destroying all the weapons in the
entire fleet.  Now, does anyone else have something to add?"
	Sheba raised her hand.  "Actually, sir, I concur with Boomer and Starbuck."
	"Understood."  Somehow, Adama wasn't surprised to see her side with the
men.  "Lieutenant Jolly?"
	The large lieutenant nodded.  "Yes, sir.  I agree with them, too."
	Adama nodded, hearing a few of the other warriors muttering their agreement.
	"I appreciate your commecame when they would be
free, he didn't think he'd lose it.
	"No, not the Cylons, though I'm enjoying having them off our tails for a
whiel," Tigh said, then shook his head.  "What's bothering me is that the
Council hasn't called to summon you to one of their stupidity meetings, and
thus making our lives miserable, in about a secton.  That's almost a record
for them."
	Adama had to laugh at his friend's comment.  Tigh had never been enchanted
with the Council, and everyone knew it. "I see.  Well, don't worry.  I'm
sure that Omega will be picking up a signal for you to return to the Rising
Star in a matter of centars, if not centons."
	Omega glanced up at the mention of his name and automatically accessed the
message log.  It contained every single voice and video message that was
sent to the Galactica, including communications from the Viper patrols,
reports from the passenger ships, and anything from the Council.  It was
also updated almost every other centon.  Omega glanced through them, and
ntaries on this law.  However," he paused and
looked at all the warriors severely, "for the time being, this edict is
final until any amendments are made.  Have I made myself clear?"
	"Yes, sir," the pilots, all but Starbuck, responded.  After prodding from
his comrades, Starbuck reluctantly nodded.
	"Excellent.  Now, unless any of you have any further comments, you're all
dismissed."
	At Adama's command, the warriors headed for the exit just as the door
opened to admit Apollo.  He stepped to the side as the others passed by
him, then looked angrily at Adama as they became the only two people in the
office.
	"Hello, Apollo," he greeted, wondering what he'd done this time to earn
his son's irritation.  "I was surprised that you weren't with Starbuck when
he made his objection about the new law.  Anyway, what brings you here?"
	"I want to know what this is all about."  Apollo's voice sounded as though
he were holding back a lot more anger than he was displaying physically.
It was the first time 
wasn't surprised to see that there was something from the Council.
	"What do you know?" he said, calling the message up onto the monitor.
"President Tinia just sent a message to you.  It's been placed with your
messages, sir."
	"Predictable," Tigh muttered, exchanging amused looks with Adama.  He
appeared to want to say more, but Adama held up his hand to prevent him
from adding anything more.
	"What does she want?" the commander asked, giving the officer permission
to access it.
	"She wants you to know that there's a Council meeting in half a centar
aboard the Rising Star, and she says that it's imperative that you attend."
	"At this centar of the evening?" Adama asked, raising his eyebrows in
surprise.  "She's got to be kidding!"
	"That's what it says, Commander."
	"What did I say?" Tigh said, smiling slightly.  "Predictable.  Any idea
what's going to be discussed this time?"
	Still surprised at Tinia's request, Adama sighed and shook his head at
Tigh's attitude.  It was typical of most ofthat Adama had seen his son almost successfully hold
in his emotions.  Neither Apollo nor Ila had been very good at hiding their
emotions.
	"Want to know what all what is about?" he asked.  "Do you mean the
Disarmament Act?"
	"No.  I mean this."  Apollo snapped on the light that was on the desk and
handed a small piece of paper to his father.
	It was a card, reminiscent of the business cards that often were exchanged
back on Caprica.  Although those were made from plasticon, a resource that
was not available in the fleet, this card carried on the tradition of
having the company's name and a location where the person could be
contacted, in this case being the name of the ship.  Adama admired the
design, seeing that it was hand-drawn.  He'd always wished that he had some
artistic talent, but all the attempts he had tried as a youth never quite
turned out.
	"'Appy's Art,'" he read aloud, turning the card over.  When he found that
there was nothing there, he turned it back. "'Freighter Virgon.'  I the warriors, who lost just
about all respect for the Council after the Destruction of the Colonies,
and through all their subsequent blunders.  There were times that Adama
suspected that they only remained partially loyal to the Council because he
was a member.  "Take your pick, Tigh.  Anything and everything that the
Council's been nosing around in."
	"That could be anything, all right."
	"Well, I'd better start to get ready.  Have my shuttle prepared please.
Oh, and --"
	"Commander?" a voice called from the lower level of the bridge.  Adama
glanced down to spot Dietra and Brie making their way up the stairs.  He
felt tense for a few microns, remembering how pilots usually came to the
bridge to tell bad news, as was the case in the past two sectons, but when
he noticed the relaxed expressions on their faces, he smiled.  Good news at
last.
	"Lieutenant, Ensign," Tigh greeted as they made it to the top.  They both
stood at attention.  Brie was nervous at being under the scrutiny of the
commat's a
very nice card, Apollo, but I'm afraid that I don't understand what you're
talking about."
	"Doesn't the name sound familiar?" Apollo pressed.
	"'Appy?'  Well, yes, I suppose it does.  That was your nickname when you
were a child.  Your mother never did stop calling you that, did she?" Adama
laughed, remembering how irritated Apollo would get whenever Ila would use
the nickname.
	"What about 'Art?'"
	Adama's laughter stopped suddenly.  "Where did you get this card?"
	"Athena found it on the Pathmain last night, at one of the craft shops.
When I went back with her and Sheba to investigate, all the merchant could
tell me was that the woman who made the crafts was about Sheba's height,
with my color of hair.  He didn't have a name, but he thought that he'd
seen her earlier that day in one of the other decks.  The closest we got to
was a closed down craft fair, and the man in charge said that he'd heard of
the company.  He also gave me the same description as the merchant."
Apollo narrowed nder and colonel, but Dietra was confident, like she usually was, as
she looked the colonel straight into the eyes.
	"Colonel," Dietra replied.  "We're here with our report."  She glanced at
Adama, who nodded for her to continue.  "Every part of our sector was
clear.  No ion trails, no strange signals, nothing.  I think we've left the
Cylons behind, sir.  At least for the time being."
	Tigh nodded to Adama.  "That's what the last patrol reported, as well.  I
think we're in the clear.  Don't you, sir?"
	"Well..."  Adama glanced at the starmap that was located to the side of
the bridge.  It was completely blank, which meant the sectors directly
behind, around and ahead of the battlestar and the fleet were clear.  As
near as they could tell, anyway.  After staring at it for a few centons,
deep in thought, Adama finally nodded.  "Very well.  Omega, transmit the
order that the fleet is to stand down from the full alert to a standby."
	Brie and Dietra exchanged grins as Omega followed the commander's his eyes as he continued.  "I called the Virgon freighter,
and they told me that they have no artisans named Appy aboard their ship.
They never did."
	"What then?"
	"We immediately returned to the Galactica, and I checked the fleet
records.  There was an Appy mentioned there, but the last mention was from
nearly two yahrens ago.  Then I was talking to Cassiopia earlier, and I
happened to get access to the results from the Genetic Tracing Project.  On
a hunch, I called up my record, and I found the name of a woman named
Thene, who ran a company called Three Hazy Road."
	"That's an interesting name," Adama said, "but if you came across this
person's name on the database, what was her degree of --"
	"According to the computer, Father, this woman is related within one
generation.  Look at the name of the company.  It practically screams out
the answer."  Apollo used his fingers to emphasize his next point.  "Three
'a's, one 'z'.  Zac, Athena, Apollo... and Artemis."
	"Artemis."  Adama expected to orders.
Brie decided to venture the question, "And, sir?  Will we be assigned
furlons?"
	Tigh hid his amusement as Adama nodded.  "Yes, I don't see why not.  The
pilots have been on alert for three sectons."
	"Thank you, sir!" the ensign replied, grinning.  "Are we dismissed?"
	Adama nodded his consent, and the two pilots quickly made their way out
the bridge.  Immediately following their departure, the replacements from
the delta shift made their way to their stations, and as Omega stood to
leave, Adama turned to Tigh.
	"If that's everything, Colonel, I'm headed back to my quarters."
	"Oh, that's right."  Tigh shuffled through the papers to pull one out.  He
glanced through it, then gave it to Adama.  "It's an update from Doctor
Wilker.  The shuttle prototype is going to have its first run sometime this
evening, and he's making sure that you'll get all the information when it's
complete."
	"All right.  Anything else?"
	"No, that's it.  Good luck with the Council, Adama."  Tigh grinned.  "I
have a difficult time repeating the name,
but found that it came too easily to his lips.  Much too easily.
	"Yes, Artemis."
	"Apollo, I --"  Adama shook his head numbly, not knowing what to say.  "I..."
	"You're going to tell me the entire story, Father."  Apollo put his hands
on his hips, glaring at him.  "What happened to Artemis?"
	"Apollo, I can't.  It's too painful.  I --"
	"Don't give me that felgercarb!" Apollo shouted, slapping a fist down on
the desktop.  "I have the right to know!  So does Athena, and so did Zac!
What happened to Artemis?  What happened to our sister?"
	"Dear God," Adama whispered as he slowly went to  the star field window,
leaving the fuming Apollo where he was.  "Artemis..."
	"You told us she was dead!" Apollo continued, and for the first time,
Adama realized that his son was close to tears.  "You told us that she was
on a shuttle to be with our grandparents on the other side of Caprica, and
that there was an accident!  But that's obviously not the case!  She's
stknow that I'd need it."
	Shaking his head and smiling at his friend's comments, Adama quickly left
the bridge.  After a quick stop at his quarters to put on his dress
uniform, he made his way down to the launching bay.  There he greeted the
pilots and, after a centon or two, the shuttle launched.  Once in space,
Adama started thinking about the meeting and the strange centar that it was
being called at.
	It's probably about the fact that the Council thinks that I have too much
control over the fleet, he thought.  That's usually the case.  Unless they
really found something to complain about.  Somehow, I doubt that.
	Aboard the Rising Star, he made his way out of the waiting area and headed
for the Council chambers.  He decided to deliberately take his time by
observing the people enjoying himself.  Although less than a centar had
gone by since ending the alert, Adama noticed that a small handful of
warriors had already made their way onto the gaming ship.  He shook his
head, wondering how that ill alive!  What are you hiding from us, Father?  What happened?"
	"I thought it was for the best," Adama muttered, not looking at Apollo.
"She would have hurt all of us, including herself.  She was out of control."
	"What do you mean by out of control?" Apollo repeated.  "I remember her as
being just fine!  Oh, sure, I know there was some friction between her and
Mother a few times, especially when it came to what Artemis would and
wouldn't do, but that could have been just normal teenage rebellion.  Kobol
knows, I was a handful myself when I was a teenager."
	"There were things you weren't privy to, though.  Ila had told me that
Artemis was slacking off in her schoolwork.  She nearly had a perfect
record, but then she suddenly stopped working.  The last I heard about it,
though, she promised Ila that she would try harder."
	"But that isn't being out of control," he protested.  "You haven't fully
explained what you mean by that."
	"Apollo, sit down."  Adama looked up, his eyes misty with emotiohad occurred.
	Eventually, Adama made his way to the Council chambers.  The two Council
Security guards standing at the entrance stiffly saluted him, their gloved
right arms crossing their black-clad chests with their hands closed into
fists.  Surprised, Adama returned the salute and entered the chambers.
	Most of the Council was already there, and as Adama looked around, he saw
that President Tinia hadn't arrived yet, nor had Sire Montrose and a third
Councilor whose name Adama couldn't recall.  Taking his seat to the right
of the president's chair, he was disappointed to see that there wasn't an
agenda on the desktop.
	"Adama," a voice called from across the table-top.  He looked up to see
Sire Geller looking directly at him.  There was a serious tone in the man's
voice that made Adama want to pay attention.  "When we last convened, we
expressed our sympathies to you on the loss of your son.  However, it has
just come to our attention that your son has now returned to the Galactica.
 Is that n. To his
relief, Apollo didn't contradict him.  He sat in on the closest couch to
Adama's position, an expectant expression on his face.  "Good.  Now, think
back to that yahren."
	Trying his best, Apollo found that his recollection of the last time he'd
seen his long-lost sister to be hazy at best.  He could only recall with
certain clarity their childhood together.  He'd been four yahrens old when
she was born, and despite an intense period of jealousy between the two
siblings, they'd eventually grown to be very close, as close as he'd been
with Zac, who had been born two yahrens later.  Athena was the youngest,
born when Apollo was seven.
	"I was going to turn twenty-two that yahren," Apollo said, looking away.
"She was eighteen."
	"Yes.  You were in your last yahren at the Academy, and when you returned
home for the New Yahren festival, I remember how you practically slept
through the first few days.  You were so exhausted after studying for your
midterms.  Now, when you were awake, how ofcorrect?"
	Uncomfortable at the mention of Apollo, Adama nodded, wondering where
Geller was going with this line of thought.  He knew that Apollo wasn't
many of the Councilors' favorite person, and somehow, he knew that this
would only come to some kind of trouble.  "Yes, he has been back for nearly
a secton."
	"How is he doing?" the grey-haired councilor continued, looking somewhat
genuinely concerned.  "We understand that he was a prisoner of war aboard
the Cylon basestar, which is why you believed he was dead.  The basestar, I
believe, was commanded by Baltar, was it not?
	Ah, I see where you're going.... Adama thought, wanting to shake his head
in disapproval.  Some members of the Council, especially Geller and his
cronies, always seemed to want to find some kind of scandal to smirch
Adama's reputation.  Sometimes Adama had the impression that if it were
possible, they would pin the blame for the Destruction of the Colonies on
his shoulders.
	"My son is doing very well, Geller.  I thank yoten did you see Artemis?"
	Apollo frowned, trying to recall.  "I don't know.  A few times before the
big celebration, at least.  Same with afterward.  Come to think of it, she
made herself pretty scarce."
	"A few times.  That's about the same amount of time I saw her as well."
Adama sighed.  "Apollo, she wasn't herself.  After the celebration, she...
If only I'd been there more often, Apollo.  If I were home, so many things
would be different."
	"Father, how was she different?"  Apollo's anger had almost disappeared,
and he reached out to touch Adama's hand.
	"If only I was home more often," Adama repeated, not responding to
Apollo's touch.  "I almost never forgave myself the time I came back when
you were small.  I hadn't seen you since you were about five sectars old,
and by this time, you were two, just a few sectars before your third natal
day.  More than a yahren, almost two.  You didn't know who I was, and you
hid behind your mother for the first few days, no matter how many times Ila
tou for your concern."  He
paused, if only to make the man edgy.  "And, yes, the commander of the
basestar we destroyed was Baltar."
	Movement from the opposite end of the table caught Adama's attention.
Dombra, Geller's partner in political mischief, was leaning forward, eager
to get a word in edgewise.  His naturally haggard face was somewhat pinched
in anticipation.
	"Baltar tortured your son, Adama," he said, not bothering to cover his
words with niceties.  "We all realize that, and as much as we are glad to
hear that he is recovered, I'm afraid that I must point out to you that
this entire incident could have been totally prevented."
	"What do you mean by preventable, Dombra?" Adama asked, feeling slightly
irritated.  He didn't even bothering chuckling at the white-haired man's
attempt at condolences.  For a few microns, he remembered a joke Starbuck
had once made about the remarkable similarity between Dombra's name and the
word "dumber."
	"Adama, you released Baltar from his life sentenceld you who I was.  I was just a name to you, a picture even, but not a
real person."
	"You weren't to blame, Father," Apollo replied, feeling a pang of sorrow
when he heard that.  He didn't remember the incident itself, but he knew
how much it would have hurt Adama.  "The Cylons were unusually active that
yahren.  A few sectars after I was born, they attacked Umbra, remember?
That's why you went away."
	Adama smiled slightly.  "Yes, I remember.  But knowing that didn't make it
any easier for me.  Especially when I started seeing the signs in Artemis."
	"Signs of what?  You've said that at least three times."
	"Your mother received more than a few notices from Artemis' teachers about
her skipping class, not handing in assignments, her marks dropping.  I told
Ila that Artemis was more than likely going through a phase."  Adama shook
his head.  "I was only seeing the tip of the iceberg, though."
	"The tip of the iceberg?" Apollo repeated, frowning at the metaphor.
"Father, what do you mean?"
	"Ap on the prison barge
against our wishes, and much to our objection."  He imitated Adama by also
making a dramatic pause.  It didn't work well with him, and only made him
look more smug than he already was.  "Much to our extreme objection."
	"Are you saying that I am responsible for what happened to my son?" Adama
demanded, wanting to rise and go over to the councilor to shake him.  He
felt his face grow warm with fury as Dombra nodded.  "I cannot believe that
I'm hearing this!  Sire, if we didn't get that information from Baltar to
destroy that basestar, we might all be dead.  We probably would be dead.
The only possible way for us to get the information we needed for a victory
was to make this trade."
	"Not exactly," Geller cut in, giving Dombra a look to get him to back off
slightly.  "Adama, I believe what our fellow Councilor is trying to say is
that perhaps you did not look at all the options when you were preparing
for that battle.  Perhaps you could have simply ordered Baltar to give you
ollo, she was..."  He sighed again, then rephrased his sentence.
"Almost immediately after the celebration, you returned to resume your
classes at the Academy.  Very nearly the next day, your mother was tidying
in Athena and Artemis' room.  Well, she didn't mean to snoop, but you
remember how inquisitive your mother could be.  She found plant vapors
underneath Artemis' bed."
	"What?  Plant vapors?"  Apollo felt his jaw drop in shock.  A potent and
illegal narcotic at the time of Apollo's youth that had become stronger and
stronger as the yahrens went by, it contained organic compounds that gave
the user a high, but no one could ever be sure of the drug's purity.  As
well, the higher the dose, the more of a chance there was of the user
having a fatal reaction.  Apollo remembered being shaken when he heard that
a boy in his senior yahren in secondary school died of an overdose, which
had astonished everyone.  Unlike other narcotics, the physical symptoms of
addiction to plant vapors were difficult
the intelligence that was necessary for the warriors to carry the mission
out.  Something else besides that trade."
	Adama shook his head.  "Sires, I went through a lot of soul searching
during that time, and many times since then.  There was only one way to get
through to Baltar.  He was a trader, once, and that was what I utilized to
get that information."
	"But if you had found another way," Dombra pressed, "your son would never
have gone through what he did.  Incidentally, I don't believe we have a
full report on this situation at all.  What intelligence did Apollo give
them?"
	Feeling slightly ill, because he knew that the men were right in one way,
Adama shook his head sadly.  He didn't reply to the question, which he knew
was also a challenge.  Dombra, he knew very well, was trying to get the
most political advantage out of the whole situation.  Just before the
councilor was about to make another pointed remark, the door opened to
admit President Tinia.  Directly following her were the  to see.  "You're kidding!"
	"No, I'm not."  Adama sighed.  "We discussed what we would do that night.
Artemis, like usual, missed her curfew, and I used that as a pretense to
confront her the next morning.  Ila took the younger children out of the
house before I did.  A lot of bitter words were spoken between us, Apollo.
I lost my temper, and said more than a few things I've long since regretted."
	"Like what?"
	"That she was disgracing the family.  I thought she was doing it to rebel
against your mother and I."  Adama shook his head as he continued.  "I
never once stopped to think or realize that she had a problem, which was
obviously the case.  I said that I wouldn't support her habit, and when I
really lost my temper, I told her to get out and never return until she was
clean."
	During the course of Adama's talk, Apollo's eyes had gotten wider and
wider.  "Oh, my God...  And so she left?"
	"Ten centons later," he confirmed.  "She grabbed some clothes and such,
then left.  I considered for two missing sires.
Giving the three arguing men a silent reprimand by giving them severe
glares with her dark eyes, she then addressed the Council as a whole.
	"Councilors.  Have I missed much discussion?"
	In a delayed reaction, the original nine men and woman stood to greet the
president.  Adama still wasn't used to thinking of her as President, even
though she had defeated him and Sires Montrose and Anton almost eleven
sectars earlier in the first election held in the fleet.
	"No, Madame President," Sire Anton replied now, his Aerian accent giving
his words a little trilling.  "We are just wondering why a Council meeting
has been called at this time of the evening."
	Tinia gave them a slight nod, telling them to take their places.  She
settled herself into the chair before beginning to speak.  "It has recently
come to our attention that a number of civilians throughout the fleet are
uncomfortable with the fact that the enlisted personnel are allowed to
carry weapons openly aboard the Rising a few microns that she'd gone to stay with her
friends, or even with your grandparents.  I called all of them, but she
never showed up.  Artemis just seemed to disappear, until we received word
a few days later that there'd been a shuttle accident, and she was listed
as one of the passengers."
	"That's unreal," Apollo said, looking at his father in amazement.  "What
makes it even more strange is that she's alive.  Or at least I think she
is.  If that's true, and if she's been here all along, why hasn't she tried
to contact us?"
	Adama turned away from the star field to look at his son.  "If she is
alive, Apollo, I personally wouldn't blame her because of that last
confrontation.  Even so, I'd very much like to see her.  I'd like to put at
least one of my mistakes behind me."
	"Do you want me to go looking for her?" Apollo asked.  "I'm still on
furlon, and I'm sure that I can find her, given enough time."
	"Yes, please, by all means."  Adama gave a small smile.  "I'll delay your
bridge officer Star.  It impedes the civilians from
fully enjoying their time here."
	Adama nodded, not surprised that the topic included the warriors, and
quite specifically so.  At least the Council wasn't suggesting any suicidal
edicts this time, or at least they hadn't yet.  Still, no one could be sure
what the councilors had up their sleeves.  "Enlisted personnel, as in my
warriors, Siress President?"
	"Yes," Tinia said, giving a sharp nod.  "And council security as well.
However, now that the Pathmain has opened its decks to the public as a
market ship, it has been speculated that the same kinds of problems will
arise there."
	"I see."  Adama had never been aboard the Pathmain, which was basically
the old livestock ship.  During the many food crises during the first
yahren of the voyage, Adama had realized that keeping animals for food was
simply a wasteful measure.  Research given to him by the Chief Life Officer
of the fleet showed that to produce one measure of meat, it took seven
measures of grain training for another few days."
	"That's just the extra incentive I need," Apollo said wryly as he stood
up.  "Do you mind if I take Athena along with me?  I think she needs to
come along just as much as I need to do this."
	"I don't see why not."  Looking at his son fondly, Adama gave him a hug.
"Thank you, Apollo, for bringing this to my attention."
	"Thank Athena, not me.  Oh, by the way," Apollo handed him the folder he'd
been clutching since his stormy entrance a few centons earlier, "Cassiopia
wanted me to give this to you.  It's the report from my latest medical exam."
	"Good news, I trust?" the commander asked, thumbing through the first few
sheets.
	"Of course!  What else could it be?"  Apollo smiled at his father.  "I'll
see you later, once I get some definite results."


	Boomer quickly straightened from his slouched resting position against the
bulkhead opposite from Adama's doorway.  He'd been waiting out here,
knowing that Apollo wouldn't take long in Adama's presence.  Once thethat could have gone to feed humans.  In an environment
where there was strict rationing that barely fed everyone, Adama decided
that keeping the large number animals was simply unfeasible.  After
presenting the problem to the Council, it was ordered that most of the
animals be slaughtered.  It also meant freeing up a ship for human
habitation.  The ship had been turned into a sort of market for the various
artisans and other tradespeople in the fleet to display their products, as
well as giving the Colonials a taste of what life had been back on their
worlds.  "What is being proposed, then, to combat this unease among the
people?"
	"Councilor Feo, who is head of the committee looking into this situation,
will now give his presentation before the Council.  Sire Feo?"
	Adama sat back in his chair, curious as to what the much younger councilor
had to say.  He had been elected to the Council at about the same time as
the election for the president's seat, and had yet to really make his mark
on the
conference had finished, he immediately sent Starbuck to wait for them in
the Officers' Club, though it had been necessary for him to add the bribe
of one round being bought by both him and Apollo.
	After five centons, and hearing muffled shouts through the bulkhead,
Boomer swallowed nervously, wondering if it were such a good idea to wait
for Apollo.  His friend was known for having a short temper, which was not
a good thing for those around him when he was in one of his moods.  If
Apollo was still in a bad mood when he exited, Boomer wasn't sure what he
would do.
	"Maybe I'll just make excuses," he mused, staring at the closed door.  "Or
I can just lay in wait like I'm doing, then drag him to the Club, willing
or not."
	He smiled slightly at the second option.  That one might work.  Apollo
wasn't back on duty yet, and that meant that Boomer wouldn't be handed any
extra patrols or be assigned to Beta Company.  Just wait until he's back,
though.  I'm going to feel it then!
	He was deep in th political scene.  Adama didn't really know much about the man,
except that he wasn't in favor of the strong military presence in the
Fleet, and thus whatever he was going to propose would undoubtedly infringe
on how the Galactican warriors spent their furlons.

	"The first complaint," Feo began, putting emphasis on the word "first" to
denote that there were several objections, "came to our attention nearly
half a yahren into our voyage, after the murder of the Colonial Warrior,
Ortega.  Many civilians realized for the first time how much firepower is
actually in the laser pistols.  These firearms, I believe, were designed
for the purpose of destroying Cylons.  Certainly, these weapons are not
meant to be brought into defenseless crowds of our own people."
	"That is true," Adama agreed, "but I must point out to the Councilor that
on at least one occasion, one of those blasters proved to be of benefit.  A
Borellian Noman, armed with a laser ball, was about to take out the entire
Astral Lounge whought about what he'd do with Apollo when the subject of
his musings left Adama's chambers fifteen centons later.  Boomer jumped
slightly at his friend's exit, then grabbed his arm before Apollo could
venture any further.
	"Hey, Apollo," he greeted, and he was immensely relieved when Apollo gave
him only a curious look, not the angry one he'd been dreading.  "Ready to
go talk to Starbuck?"
	"Yeah, I guess we'd better get that out of the way.  Where is he?" Apollo
asked as they started walking.  Boomer quickly explained the situation, and
he nodded.  "Well, at least we know he's not going to leave that area any
time too soon."
	"That's only too true," he grinned.  "Oh, by the way, we both owe him a
drink.  That's the condition I made to get him to sit still before we
arrived."
	"We what?" Apollo demanded, shaking his head.  "Oh, fine, then."
	They found Starbuck at their regular table in the Club, staring into his
now empty mug.  He looked up at them glumly as they approached the table.
Boomeren he was stopped by a Colonial Warrior's sidearm."
	"I'm afraid that the one incident you mention is greatly outweighed by the
negative incidents, Adama.  Think about it.  A pilot may be driven off the
edge by battle stress and may use his weapon to act out his frustration.
What are the chances of a laser pistol being fired accidentally, or even of
overloading?  To many people, including myself, these are unacceptable
possibilities."
	"You're right, Sire Feo," said Adama.  Upon saying these words, he found
that most of the members of the Council were staring at him dumbfounded,
especially Sires Geller and Dombra.  He supposed that they had the right to
be.  This was certainly the first occasion that he had agreed with any of
their arguments.  There's a first time for everyone, I suppose.  "What do
you suggest we should do with the problem?"
	As the younger man recovered from his shock, Sire Montrose stepped in.  A
respectable councilor had been forced to retire from politics due to an
illness  shook his head slightly, not quite believing the depressed
performance he was witnessing.  At least it's a good sign that he seems to
actually be thinking about the situation.  For a change, at least.
	"Hi, guys," he said, smiling slightly.  "Did you two talk to Cass?"
	"About a centar or so ago," Apollo said as Boomer motioned for the barman
to come with more ambrosa.
	"So?"  Starbuck began to take an interest in the conversation as he waited
for his friends to continue.  "How did it go?"
	"Just fine," Boomer said, picking up from Apollo.  "We were right about
what she was going to say.  She says that she's really sorry about the
whole situation, but she didn't have any choice.  Chameleon made her swear
to keep the truth from you."
	A slightly relieved expression appeared on Starbuck's face.  "That's more
or less what Chameleon said."
	"Really?"  Apollo nodded encouragingly, urging Starbuck to continue.
"What did he say?"
	"To put it short, he believed one of my ramblings.  I was telling himthat occurred almost immediately after the so-called Iblis
incident, Montrose was also one of the few Councilors who was pro-military,
and thus usually sided with Adama during arguments.  The fact that he was
involved with this current project made Adama feel slightly wary, but more
confident than before.
	"We propose that all warriors, as well as our own Council Security and all
other armed civilians such as the Borellian Nomen, check in their weapons
once boarding facilities such as the Rising Star and the Pathmain," he
said, using a calm voice.  "This will prevent any more unfortunate events
from occurring."
	"But what if there is an investigation where either my warriors or the
Council Security are forced to board either ship?"
	There was a slight murmur of agreement from the Council at Adama's words.
Tinia decided to answer that question.
	"That is slightly different, Commander.  What we are dealing with here are
warriors on furlon.  You are talking about warriors on duty.  In that case,
 that
I'd quit the service and all that, and he believed every word I said."
Starbuck sighed.  "It was just one big... misunderstanding.  He basically
did it for me, guys, because he was afraid that I was going to wreck my
life.  He loved me that much..."
	Apollo and Boomer exchanged glances.  "So what are you going to do?"
	"I don't know," he said, sighing again.  "Chameleon, or rather my father,
says that we should start over.  To tell the truth, I think I'd like to do
that too."
	"And what about Cassiopia?" Apollo asked gently.  "What are you going to
do about her?  She was visibly upset about it when I had my examination,
almost to the point of distraction."
	Starbuck frowned as he finished his mug.  "Yeah, I suppose she would be.
This is probably our biggest fight yet.  I should go talk to her if I don't
want this to completely wreck our relationship."
	"That's the spirit," Boomer cheered.
	"So you'll talk to her?" Apollo pressed.
	"Yeah, but first, I think I want to talk to my father agI believe that special permission may be given out, either by the Council
or by you."
	Adama nodded.  "Who shall be in charge of checking in the weapons and
maintaining them during the owner's stay?"
	"Council Security will do that assignment," Feo said, now completely
recovered.
	"The Council will now vote on whether to pass this new legislation or
not," Tinia spoke again.  "All those in favor, please raise your hand."
	Looking around the circular table, Adama saw that everyone had raised
their hands.  He decided that this motion was worth his trouble.  Very
carefully, he raised his hand, much to Tinia's approval.
	"All those not in favor?" she said, and was greeted by no hands being
raised.  She smiled.  "The legislation has now been passed.  It shall be
enforced within the next two days.  Sires Montrose and Feo, your committee
will announce the enforcement on the IFB and Commander Adama, you shall
announce it to your warriors.  If there is no more new business, then will
someone motion for ain."  Starbuck
shrugged slightly.  "I think I want to know a few more things beforehand."
	"Don't take your time," Apollo warned, his green eyes serious.  "If you
do, you'll risk making this whole thing worse.  Starbuck, the last thing
you want to do is to lose her.  Promise me you'll talk to her before the
day's over, all right?"
	"Yeah, okay, I promise.  Satisfied?"
	"Not completely, but I guess it's going to have to do.  For now."  Apollo
glanced at his chronometer.  "Anyway, I'd love to stay, but I've got a few
things to do.  Boomer, do you know by any chance where Athena is right now?"
	"Uh, probably somewhere on board.  Try Iota Deck, or maybe the
rejuvenation center?"  Boomer looked at him strangely.  "Why'd you ask?"
	"I need her help."  Apollo flashed his friends a grin before getting up.
"I'll see you both later."
	Boomer watched him leave, shaking his head as he realized that it was the
third time Apollo had excused himself without explaining what he was up to.
 At least this time this meeting to end?"
	A councilor at the far end of the table motioned, and another councilor
near her seconded the motion.  Chairs were pulled back as the Council of
the Twelve left.  Adama stayed in his seat, seeing that Tinia was not moving.
	"I'm impressed," she said when the other councilors were gone.  "I thought
that this meeting was going to be a fight all the way through."
	"I'm not a complete tyrant, Tinia," Adama said, smiling.  "It is possible
for me to agree with the Council when they're right, although it's as rare
as Tylium in water.  Enough about the Council, though."
	She grinned, knowing very well what he meant.  Long before her election to
the presidency, Tinia and Adama had been involved in an on-again, off-again
relationship that they'd somehow kept private.  At the present time, they
were on the on-again stage.
	"Yes," she agreed.  "Enough about them.  How about us?  I know that the
meeting was late, but, well, you could say that I've an ulterior motive.  I
just so happenhe's in a better mood, he thought, but he seriously
wondered what it was now that Athena seemed to be more deeply involved.
Oh, well, I'll find out eventually.
 to have a reservation for one of the private dinning rooms,
and I'd love some company."
	Adama laughed as he stood to stand behind her.  He put his hands on her
shoulders as he spoke.  "Well, if you insist."
	"I'm the President," she said, lifting her face to look at him.  "I can be
more than insistent if I want."
	"I'm sure you can," he replied, kissing her forehead.  "And this is
something I'd like to see."

	When Doctor Cassiopia came into her office the next morning, she
immediately accessed the messages that were on her computer.  There was the
usual saucy one from Starbuck, this time reminding her of the dinner he had
planned on the Rising Star for that evening.  She smiled at it, then moved
to the next few messages.  They were mostly about meetings that would
discuss topics that affected the staff of the Life Center, and Cassiopia
just glanced at them.  She'd always found bureaucratic things boring.
	A message towards the end of the queue caught her attention.  Accessing
it, she saw t