Kobol Remembered – Section 22
By Rae

        The heat of the noon day sun had risen to an almost
to the unbearable level, past the point for anyone,
any human, to be comfortable.  Adama, with sweat
almost pouring down his face, stopped his doggedly
determined pace to look up at the blazing sun, still
high in the early afternoon sky.  Almost blinded with
its intensity, the aging commander raised a hand to
cover his eyes from its brightness wishing silently to
himself that an oasis of cooling shade would appear in
front of him.  The intensity of the sun’s rays along
with its accompanying heat was taking its toll on his
body, draining him of his much needed energy.  Shade
and its coolness were unheard of at that micron, and
no matter how much Adama wished and hoped for it, he
knew that it was not going to just appear.  Now that
he had stopped for a centon, Adama felt his exertion
catching up with him for he felt as though he had been
walking forever as he slowly turned and looked in
slight surprise at the structure that was a short
distance from him.  
        Adama started at the structure for a few centons,
making sure that he was really seeing the building
that he could have sworn was not there just centons
ago.  How could he have missed it.  It was a massive
stone structure that stood majestically at the top of
what seemed as though to be an endless flight of
stairs.  Adama reached up and wiped the sweat out of
his eyes, rubbing them for a moment then looking at
the structure again, making doubly sure that it’s
existence was indeed a reality, not an illusion of an
over taxed mind.  It looked real, it seemed real, and
it was still there as Adama looked at it intently.  
        Making up his mind, Adama started in the direction of
the structure that on closer inspection, looked like
one of the ancient temples that littered the surface
of Leo.  For many a shore leave, before he met Ila,
sealed and began to raise a family, Adama had gone to
the colony of Leo, fascinated by the temples that were
considered to be the oldest buildings still in
existence on any of the colonies.  Their time of
origin pre-dated any known existence of man on the
planet and their builders/creators were unknown. 
Scholars of ancient history had debated their origins
for many a yahren, but never came to any agreement on
anything about the temples besides the obvious.  Adama
himself had formulated a hypothesis, but knew that
none of the academic community would agree with him,
so he only imparted his thoughts to his beloved wife,
who had patiently listened to him, asked her
questions, then agreed with him that his reasoning was
sound.  
        Now as he approached the bottom steps of the massive
structure in front of him, he found himself reflecting
on his theory and wondering just how close he had been
back then.  This temple looked almost identical to the
ones on Leo, abet this one was much larger than any he
had seen back then, but still it was very close to the
ones he had visited.  His thoughts shifted for a
micron as he wondered if the people or inhabitants of
this world had visited his home worlds in the distant
past.  If so, what else had they left behind?  Were
they there before the Lords of Kobol?  Before the
existence of man on the 12 worlds or were they in fact
the reason that man came to exist?  Was everything
that they had been taught since the beginning and
believed in nothing but a lie?  A fable?  Was there in
actuality another truth that had been bypassed for the
fable of the 12 Lords?  
        And if the existence of the 12 Lords of Kobol was a
lie, what about everything else that they as a people
had been taught to believe in?  Adama’s heart almost
stopped as the next question came to mind, his pulse
began to speed up as he felt despair creep into his
being.  He could not believe it.  He didn’t want to
believe it.  Could he have been so wrong?  For it the
truth of the matter was that the 12 Lords of Kobol was
nothing more than a myth, then what about the 13th
Tribe and the existence of Earth?  No, no, it couldn’t
be true.  This all had to be a coincidence. 
Everything that he had been taught to follow and
believe in, everything that he had learned from his
own father, his own research into the subject and what
he himself had taught to his own children could not be
a LIE!!!!! 
        There had to be a completely logical explanation for
this, there just had to be for he could not be leading
his people to their deaths.  To their complete
annihilation in search of something that does not and
never did exist.  Adama just stared at the stone
structure, his mind almost numb as the thoughts
bombarded his psyche.  He felt his shoulders sag as he
came to grips with his own doubts, his own
indecisiveness about everything he had been taught
since childhood.  His beliefs in beings that were
considered the saviors of his race.  In fact they were
considered by many to be the fathers of the race
called human.  The race of man.  Now here, on this
desert world was possible evidence that everything he
and his people knew was nothing more than a myth, a
fable, a lie!
        Adama felt a deep sense of betrayal at that micron, a
sense that he let rise in his mind, then turned and
tried to smother as he looked up at the temple, trying
to look at it logically.  It was hard, but with the
wisdom of his lifetime, he fought to quell the
disturbing images that filled his mind.  He had to
believe in the Lords.  He had to believe that they in
fact lived and existed.  That everything he had been
taught, everything he had spent his life believing in
was the truth, until he found totally conclusive proof
otherwise.  His faith could not waver for his faith in
the Lords was all that he had been using to lead his
people, giving them hope.  He could not waver now!
        Adama pushed his doubts back and turned his attention
to the building in front of him.  It was nothing short
of overwhelming, but that is probably the reaction
that its designers and builders wanted.  Adama looked
at it intently as he thought about everything else
that he had seen on this world in their time here. 
The observations of the teams he had sent down.  What
struck Adama the most was that unlike most of the
other structures on this planet, this temple looked
almost as though it was constructed just a short time
ago.  The newness of it was in stark contrast to the
decay and disrepair of the other structures they had
found here.  Well made, the temple had large stone
columns that rose towards the heavens to connect to
the massive stone outcropping that signified the
beginning of the roof.  Not a stone out of place, the
mortar between the massive stones looked as though it
was put there within the last centar, but Adama knew
that was impossible.  Nothing had survived here in
centuries, or so it seemed.
        But wait, was anything on this desolate world, as it
seemed?  Or was it a clever charade, one that fooled
more than just himself or his highly trained teams? 
There had to be some clear, concise answers for what
was happening on this planet.  Why the landing parties
had disappeared without a trace and why no one could
raise the Galactica.  But the answers were not going
to come to Adama, so he mentally prepared himself to
find the answers himself.  The life of his son
depended on him finding those answers, in fact, all of
their lives depended on those answers.   
.       The aged commander turned his attention back to the
structure in front of him, marveling at its size and
condition.  Unlike the other buildings, whose stones
were rough from the punishment of blowing sand, the
stones that made up this building and its foundations
seemed smooth as glass.  Adama reached down and ran
his hands over the steps, almost seeing his reflection
in the shine that he discovered.  His surprise
compounded when he found that the stones of the steps
were unbelievably cool to the touch!  Adama observed
that the stones themselves were not the yellow, sand
basked type that comprised the other buildings here,
instead the stones looked as though they were Librian
marble, soft gray in color with ribbons of darker gray
or black running through them.  
        Now Adama was beginning to feel the hairs at the base
of his neck quiver to life, a sign that he understood
as a warning that something was terribly, terribly
wrong here, something he himself had already
determined.  Why was this building different?  Why did
they use this type of stone, one that was totally
different than what comprised the other buildings? 
Was there a significance to this temple that was
different than the others?  Adama wasn’t sure what to
make of all this new information, but he knew that he
had no choice but to find out more.  
        Deciding that the temple deserved a much closer look,
Adama stepped on the smooth marble-like stairs and
began his ascent, his eyes never wavering from the
building at the top of the stairs.  As soon as his
foot touched the first step, Adama felt a feeling come
over him that he had never felt before.  Within a
blink of an eye, the startled man found himself at the
top of the stairs, staring at one of the marble-like
massive pillars.  With his heart pounding rapidly in
his chest, Adama swiftly spun around and looked down
at the ground where he had stood just moments before,
experiencing some wonder at what just happened to him.
 At his back, the Commander felt a cool breeze
emanated from the darkened doorway behind him suddenly
swirling around him, enveloping him and the oppressive
heat that he had been dealing with disappeared.  The
beads of sweat that had been rolling down his back
were gone and he felt cool and refreshed as if he had
just slept for centars.
        Cautiously Adama turned back to look at the open
doors of the temple, marveling at the sheer height and
mass of the door.  Not made of wood or metal, as were
most doors that Adama had seen, this one was made of a
black marble-like substance that gleamed, as though it
had been highly polished and cared for by loving
hands.  No means of opening or shutting the heavy
doors was visible to the Commander, but he knew that
no mere man could ever dream of moving those doors. 
Cautiously he slowly moved over to the darkened
entryway, his eyes quickly making a mental inventory
of the doors.  Nothing showed how these magnificent
pieces were manipulated.  No mechanical or manual
means could be seen, as the Commander paused at the
threshold, unsure if he dared to enter.  He could see
nothing but darkness that seemed as endless as a void
in space and just as foreboding.
.       As the Commander of the Galactica stood there,
unsure if he should venture in, an image came to his
mind.  The image of Apollo lying back in the ruins of
another building, gravely wounded, in need of
immediate medical attention.  The landing party from
the fleet disappeared with the encampment that had
been in that location just a short time ago.  Was it
really just this morning?  A few short centars ago? 
The five of them were left totally alone, left to fend
for themselves, with no supplies left by the landing
party to help them, sustain them till help could come.
 But actually, what had happened to the landing
parties?  Where had they gone?  Back to the fleet was
the most logical, the safest choice, but what if that
was not so
        Questions flowed through Adama’s mind and answers
still seemed all the more fleeting, for he had no
answers that made any sense to him.  There was one
thing that he was sure of -- they were not alone on
this planet.  Another race lived here, existed here
because they showed themselves long enough to try to
kill his son and just who they were floated amongst
the many questions that Adama wished he had answers
for.  Why did they attack Apollo?  What had happened
to the ground team?  The same questions rolled around
in his mind till they felt like they were drawing
Adama down into an inescapable vortex.  The same
questions over and over again.  
        And the answers eluded him, no matter how hard he
tried to pinpoint them, they scurried away like mice
towards a hole in the wall.  But there were answers,
and Adama knew that.  Maybe this place was the key to
unlock those answers for him.  It was the only choice
left to him, for there was nothing else that seemed to
have any clues.  He had to do whatever it took to save
his children.  It didn’t matter about his continued
survival.  He had lived his life and there was nothing
left but his golden years.  Tigh could fill his shoes
at the helm of the Galactica.  He would be able to
handle the Council of Twelve and all their complaints,
not with the patience that Adama seemed to exhibit,
but Tigh would be able to hold his feelings in check
until he was out of earshot of the bothersome group.
        Adama felt himself return to the present as he
continued to stare into the darkness.  He was not
afraid of death.  If he had been, he would have never
joined the Colonial Service and became a warrior.  He
would have found a safer occupation, maybe returning
to his first love of ancient studies.  Immersing
himself in the text of the Word.  He would have been
there to see his children grow up, he would have been
more than just an absentee father.  He regretted
missing his children’s growing up yahrens.  He missed
Apollo’s first steps, first words, but if the truth
were known, he really missed the first two yahrens of
Apollo’s life because of his duty to his people.  To
fulfill his father’s dream.  By the time that Athena
was born, the Galactica had been recalled to Caprica
for almost a yahren, so Adama had enjoyed with Athena
what he had missed with Apollo.  With the birth of
Zac, Adama had been able to enjoy even more of his
youngest son’s early antics, since Adama had taken a
special assignment for almost 2 yahrens with the
Caprican Military Command.  But he could never bring
those lost yahrens of his children’s lives back.  He
could never relive them, as he often desired. 
        Another rush of cool air came out of the darkness,
ruffling Adama’s hair and causing a chill to go down
his spine.  No, he did not fear death, did not fear
the unknown.  Taking chances were a part of the
military, a part of being in command.  He would never
ask someone under his command to do something that he
himself was unwilling to do.  Never.  Adama’s eyes
narrowed as he glared into the darkness, almost
willing some illumination to appear, to make the
darkness less intimidating, but he knew that was not
going to happen and at this point, he was fresh out of
answers for all of his questions.  He had to have
those answers.  He had to know what was happening
here, why things were happening as they were, and who
the elusive inhabitants of this planet were.  
        Adama summoned up every bit of courage that he could
muster and then stepped over the threshold into the
blackness that laid beyond, unsure if he was doing the
right thing, but knowing he had to do it anyway, for
there were no other options.  The centons passed
without even the almost endless breeze blowing across
the still sands.  Then s sound broke the silence,  out
of nowhere the soft sound of a woman’s laughter could
be heard.  Amazingly, the massive black stone doors
began to move as though an invisible giant hand was
guiding them, slowly coming together to close any
possible route of escape with a resounding thud.

*******************

        Starbuck just stood there and stared with outright
disbelief at what he just heard.  He was not even sure
that he heard Zac correctly.  Zac?  An angel?  It was
all getting to be too much for Starbuck to handle
right at that micron.  His mind was already on
overload and this was just enough to probably push him
over the edge.  With those creatures shooting Apollo
down, Cassie’s disappearance along with the rest of
the landing party, the fleet seeming to be lost
somewhere out in space, and the dreams that were
happening to him, it just all seemed to be too much. 
Way too much.  
        “If you are really an angel, then why has everything
happened to us?  Why is Apollo laying back on that
floor, bleeding to death?  Why are these dreams
happening to us?  What do they mean?”  Starbuck walked
up to Zac and stood there almost toe to toe with him,
anger starting to take over as his voice lowered
dangerously.  “Where is the landing party?  And where
in Hades is the Galactica and the fleet?”
        Zac stood there facing Starbuck calmly.  “I can’t
give you too many answers, Starbuck.  I wish to heaven
I could.”
        “That is *not* an answer, Zac!”  Starbuck growled,
not accepting what Zac was saying.  “I want answers. 
My best friend is *dying.*  Do you understand that,
Zac?  Apollo is dying, and you, his brother, want to
stand there and have me believe that number one you
are an angel and number two, that you cannot give me
the answers to the questions I’m asking.  What do you
take me for?  A fool?”
        Starbuck’s white-hot anger made Zac flinch inwardly
but he kept his outward appearance calm in the face of
this tirade.  He knew the bond that existed between
his older brother and the man that stood before him. 
It was a bond that as a child he had not understood. 
Apollo had always been his older brother.  His
protector, his confidant.  Zac had practically
worshiped Apollo for he had seemed so grown up.  So
wise and smart to a young boy.  Then one day his
brother brought home this other boy.  Starbuck.  So
brash.  So carefree.  He had been 15yahrens old and
was so grown up to the impressionable 9 yahren old
that Zac had been.  
        They were exact opposites, Apollo and Starbuck. 
Apollo was turning out to be so serious.  Zac knew
that their father was pushing Apollo to succeed, to
excel and be the best.  Zac himself rebelled against
that standard that his father had set for them. 
Athena, because she also had no other choice being the
only daughter, rose with Apollo and met the challenge
academically and socially that their father placed to
them, but not Zac.  Some of his most heated arguments
with his father was about his grades and his attitude,
his behavior.  But in as much as Zac wanted to be like
his older brother and sister, Zac had found himself
another person to worship and emulate.  Someone who
was totally different than either of his siblings.
        Starbuck.  Zac had at first hated Starbuck for his
influence on Apollo, then later, on Athena.  Then he
came to like, even admire his brother’s friend. 
Starbuck was a charmer, there was no question of that.
 He could charm any woman, and even some men into
doing what he wanted.  He was a gambler, a womanizer,
a rogue.  He loved money, beautiful women and vintage
ambrosia.  But as Zac grew older, he saw the other
side of Starbuck, the loyalty that he showed for his
friends, especially Apollo.  The love that he had for
Zac’s parents and the younger siblings.  His bravery,
which he hid behind a mask of false semi-cowardice. 
Starbuck made morbid jokes about missions, about
situations, but that was his way of hiding his real
feelings, his concerns about the outcome.  Starbuck
was a multi-faceted person of great depth and now in
his present circumstances, Zac could see all those
facets, all that depth with crystal clear vision.
        “No, Starbuck, I don’t take you for a fool.  Far from
it.”  Zac said with much emotion in his voice.
        Starbuck slowly backed down and turned to walk over
to the other side of the dune.  The brash lieutenant’s
head was bent as he walked, his hand rubbing the back
of his neck as if trying to relieve the tension he
felt there.  Starbuck stood there for a micron in
silence, then placed his hands on his hips and looked
out at the sun that was slowly sinking in the sky,
unaware of the single tear that fell silently down his
cheek.  He stood there grappling with his precarious
emotions, wanting to wake up in his bunk on the
Galactica to find that everything was as it should be.
 Apollo annoyed with him for something, Cassie working
in the Life Center, Boomer preparing to go on patrol,
Sheba debating with him about anything and everything.
 Boxey coming down to the pilot’s quarters just to
visit his ‘uncle.’
        “Then answer me, Zac.  Tell me what is happening and
why.  Tell me how to get things back to the way they
were before we found this hell hole.”
        Zac stood there staring at Starbuck’s back.  He could
feel what his friend was feeling, and he wished he
could tell everything to Starbuck, but he couldn’t.
        “I wish that I could answer your questions, Starbuck.
 I wish I could wave my hand and make everything
right, but I can’t.  This has to be played out to its
final outcome.”
        Starbuck spun around and look at a person he
considered his friend.  Like his own younger brother. 

        “You are not Zac then.  Zac would answer my
questions.  He would do anything he could to protect
his family.”
        Zac felt anger, something that normally he was not
permitted to feel, at least not in his present state. 
“Don’t you think I _want_ to answer your questions,
Starbuck?  Don’t you think I want to tell you what
this is all about?  Do you think that I like any of
this?  I cannot interfere with what is happening!”
        “Then why are you here?  Why am I here?”  Starbuck
countered.
        “You are here because between us, between you and I,
we can figure out a way to get through this ordeal in
on piece.  And alive.”
        “What is happening, Zac?  Can you answer that?”
        Zac nodded.  “I can.  You are being tested and
judged.”
        “For what?”
        “To see if the human race is worthy of continued
survival.”
        “WHAT?”  Starbuck shouted incredulously.
        “You heard me.  You are being tested and judged.”
        “By who?”
        “They are known only as the Guardians.”
        “Why us?”
        “I’m honestly not sure of that, Starbuck.  All I know
is that more than a few races have vanished at the
hands of the Guardian because of these tests and their
failure to pass.” 
        “I can’t believe this.  Are you telling me that
everything that has happened, is happening, is a
test?”  Starbuck could not believe this.  “Apollo is
dying for a simple test?”  Zac nodded.  “Just what are
we being tested on?  Can you tell me that?”
        “Many hundreds of yahrens ago, the human race failed
a test given by these Guardians.  They were judged
barbaric and unfit, but instead of being abolished,
they were given mercy and given a second chance. 
Unfortunately the Galactica and its fleet came across
the dominion of the Guardians and in turn, was
selected for another test.  To see if man has evolved,
changed their ways.”
        Starbuck turned and shook his head.  As he raised his
eyes and was ready to turn back to confront Zac more,
he noticed a lone figure standing in the distance.  A
woman.  One that Starbuck had seen before.  Somewhere.
 
        “Zac, look.”  
        Zac moved up to stand beside Starbuck.  “They’re
watching.”
        “That woman?  She’s one of them?”  Starbuck asked,
looking over at Zac, who just nodded.  “So they’re
humans?”
        “No.  They just assume the form of the race they are
judging.  They have no real form as you wound know it,
Starbuck.”
        Starbuck looked over at the woman standing in the
distance.  For some reason, he could have sworn that
the woman over on that other dune looked almost
familiar to him.  Starbuck stared at her intently
taking in the slight form with her long dark hair
gently being ruffled by the hot desert breeze 
Starbuck looked over at Zac, noticing that his friend
kept a stoic expression on his face as he looked at
her.  For a micron, he thought about how much the two
brothers resembled each other.  Both tall, dark, with
Zac’s blue eyes and Apollo’s green, they complemented
each other.  And when Athena was standing beside them,
there was no way that anyone could mistake them for
other than what they were.  
        “She’s here.”  Zac said quietly.  
        “Who is she?”  Starbuck questioned, his curiosity
rising to new levels, glimpses of memories from his
dream coming to him.  She was the woman that he
remembered from his dream.  The one he asked, no
literally begged on his hands and knees for answers to
what was happening.  She was the one there.  Starbuck
could almost feel the blood on his hands again, but
pushed that sensation aside as he continued to stare
at the silent woman, standing as she had in his dream,
tall and regal, her head held high.  Looking at them
as though they were nothing but parasites under her
microscope.  
        “She is an observer for the Guardians.”  Zac said
softly.  “Her name is Keenan.”
        “I’ve seen her before, haven’t I?”  Starbuck
questioned, wanting to be sure, even though he was in
his own mind.
        Zac simply nodded as he stared at the woman for
another centon, then turned and walked away.  Starbuck
took one last look at the woman, then turned and
walked over to Zac.  
        “In my dream.  She stood there just watching me.” 
Starbuck said slightly subdued.  “She just stood
there, ignoring me as I asked her for answers.  She
never moved, never spoke.”   
        “Do you understand your dream, Starbuck?  Do you
understand what it meant?”  
        Starbuck stood there for a centon, then shook his
head.  
        “I’m not sure.”  Starbuck replied, unsure of anything
at that centon.  “I was in the same place that I am
now, only you weren’t there, Zac.  But she was. 
Silent.  I tried getting closer to her, but the more I
walked, the further away she became.  I wasn’t getting
any closer to her.”  Starbuck turned and walked a few
steps away, his back to Zac.  “Then I fell in the
sand.  I raised my hands up and they. . . they were
covered.  With blood.  Fresh blood.  And there was
nothing there to get rid of it with.  No water, no
nothing.”
        “Whose blood do you think it was, Starbuck?”
        Starbuck shook his head.  “I really don’t know.  My
own.”
        Zac covered the distance between them, standing
behind his friend quietly, then he spoke.  “No,
Starbuck.  Not your own.”
        “Then whose?”
        “The blood of many.  The innocents, as the Guardians
call them and possibly Apollo’s own blood.”
        Starbuck spun around and faced Zac, his expression
one of deep emotional pain.  “Why?  Why Apollo’s
blood, Zac?  Why does he have to suffer?”
        “To cause you pain.  To make you suffer great
emotional duress.  Starbuck, you were all chosen for a
reason.  This test was devised after much observation
of all of you.”
        “Apollo did nothing to these people, or what ever you
want to call them.  None of us has.  We came here for
fuel, that was it, just fuel so we can continue on and
survive.  Look at what has happened to us.”
        “Starbuck,”  Zac tried to sound comforting, but knew
from the look on Starbuck’s face that he was failing
miserably.  “It is nothing that you yourself has done
to these beings.  It is what they feel mankind has
done to others -- other planets, other races.”
        “So we are being tested and judged solely on the
actions of others?”  Starbuck sound a bit incredulous
at the thought.  In the senselessness of what was
happening to them.  They were being judged solely on
the actions of other humans that had come before them,
possibly hundreds of yahrens ago.  People that none of
them even knew or knew the existence of, and it was
these other humans, these strangers and their actions
from another time that the people of the fleet were
being judged on.  Those past actions were ones that
Starbuck did not want to even think of – he did not
even want to imagine what kind of actions could cause
this kind of retribution.  
        Zac nodded as he turned and looked over at the lone
figure standing on the barren dune in the distance,
her stance rigid.  He knew who she was and what she
wanted here with Starbuck, let alone the others.  His
father, his sister, his brother and Sheba, the woman
Apollo loved.  Zac wanted to punish Keenan for her
actions, for her desired outcome to this situation,
but he couldn’t.  It was against the code, against the
rules that Zac had to abide by.  But there was one
thing that Zac couldn’t block out of his mind. 
Something that played over and over again and that was
the sorrow, the fear, the desolation and despair that
Zac had heard in a voice one night that had caused him
to reach out and comfort the owner of that voice.  It
had been Apollo, alone the Celestial Dome atop the
Galactica, the raw pain that his brother was feeling
at that moment and reached to the deepest part of Zac.
"I need you here now, Zac. I need you to tell me that
no matter what, that everything is going to work out
for the best,"
Zac desperately wished that he could do that right now
and maybe give himself a little bit of reassurance.

************