ARMAGEDDON 2493
By Neil Adams
June, 2000

A Battlestar Galactica / Buck Rogers In The 25th century crossover.

Author's Note:
     The events are set approximately five years (yahrens?) after the
BG episode 'The Hand Of God' and a year after the two-part Buck Rogers
episode 'Flight Of The War Witch.'  Ignoring Buck Rogers season two as
I regard it as being inferior to season one & merely a cheap Star Trek
rip-off.  For obvious reasons I've similarly ignored Galactica 1980. 
As for why I chose a crossover between these two franchises, it's
obvious.  Both were developed by Glen A. Larson, (who also created BG)
with similar visual effects and costumes and props.  Plus by ignoring
Galactica 1980 (Which it appears even Mr. Larson now does) & Buck
Rogers season two, you could have a crossover story that was still
canonical.  To my surprise however I've only ever come across one
crossover between the two shows and that was a satire, indeed, I've
never come across a Buck Rogers fanfic site, which is perhaps
surprising since it was in the form of written stories that Buck Rogers
first appeared in 1929 in the pages of Amazing Stories.
     NB the title of this fanfic and some of the names of people and
places are inspired by Philip Francis Nowlan's original Buck Rogers
novelettes: 'Armageddon 2419 AD' & 'The Air lords Of Han.'  I also took
the liberty of updating some of the technology used by the principles
in this story, particularly in the area of targeting computers and
display screens where I've borrowed off computer games like Colony Wars
and films like Lost in Space.  As well as upgrading the Throne Room
'set' using images of that chamber from Richard Hatch's Battlestar
Galactica: The Second Coming trailer.  Also, the caverns in Kansas that
was the source in my story of Buck's extensive collection of late 20th,
early 21st century movies is real, though I've no idea if all the films
mentioned in the following story are stored there.  I've also taken
certain liberties with characters primarily Sire Uri.  The fact that
his wife was found, alive and well, that his Mother was Adama's
predecessor and that he had once sat on the Quorum before the 'Peace
Conference' are of my creation, I simply say in my defence that nothing
was said in the TV series to contradict.  The same could be said of the
Background I gave to Starbuck & the Draconians, it made more sense and
explained they're human origins (even though with this being a
crossover with Battlestar Galactica, they would be descendants of the
thirteen tribes of humanity).  The background to Buck's mission is also
conjecture but went well with contemporary events (bear in mind that
although Buck left Earth in 1987, the show aired in 1979) such as the
Challenger disaster.
     Copyright wise Battlestar Galactica is copyright Universal Studios
(or possibly Glen A. Larson Productions), whilst Buck Rogers in the
25th century is Leisure Concepts courtesy of Robert C. Dille, character
created by Philip Francis Nowlan.  Dialogue and excerpt from The Planet
of the Apes is 20th century Fox Film Corporation and written by Michael
Wilson & Rod Serling.  Whilst all the films/TV shows and their casts
mentioned herein are copyrighted their respective copyright holders. 
All other characters and situations are mine.
     NB:  All spellings are in British English, e.g. centre instead of
center and so on.
Neil Adams 2000

     "The year is 1987, from the Kennedy Space Centre in Cape Canaveral
Florida, NASA launches the last of America's deep space probes, Ranger
III.  Aboard this compact starship, astronaut Captain William 'Buck'
Rogers encounters a freak mishap experiencing temperatures and
pressures beyond imagination.  Ranger III and it's pilot are blown out
of their programmed trajectory, into an orbit one thousand times as
vast.  An orbit which freezes his life support systems and returns Buck
Rogers to Earth, not after five months as originally planned, but more
than five hundred years later..."

Chapter One

     Artur Larson put on his Governor's robes for what was supposed to
be one of the last times and, kissing his wife, Elen goodbye, left
their personal quarters for the administration section of what would
have been once called the 'Governor's Mansion.'  Larson had been the
Governor of the agricultural colony of Vyra, arguably Earth's outermost
colony for the last decade.  He had known from the day he had been
offered the appointment that he was to be the colony's last old-style
governor, it had been made very clear to him that Earth intended to
give the colony an unprecedented degree of autonomy.  Considering the
planet and it's two-hundred & fifty million inhabitants proximity (or
rather lack of it) to Earth and their degree of material and logistical
independence, the only surprise to many observers, both on Earth and
Vyra was that it had taken two centuries since the colony's
establishment for autonomy to be granted.  Larson compared his posting
with that of one of the old Viceroys that had governed colonies of the
great Empires that Earth had once been divided into.  From surviving,
pre-Holocaust documents, it was known that between World Wars II & III,
the Empires had given their colonies independence, some willingly, some
pragmatically, and some because the locals, or the particular Empire's
state following World War II, forced them to.  Larson had paid
particular attention to the British giving independence to the nation
states of India and Pakistan (formerly the Dominion of India),
supervised by a World War II leader called Earl Mountbatten of Burma, a
member of the then British Royal Family.
     As Larson walked through the light and airy corridors towards his
work chambers where his councillors were gathering for what would be
the first of the serious of significant events that would mark the
autonomy coming into effect, he reflected on his ten years in charge. 
His appointment began exactly ten years to the day that autonomy was to
be initiated.  He had entered the chambers on Vyra and after swearing
the oath of office before assembled guests and the colony's populace
(courtesy of the public holobroadcast system) had launched a speech in
which he promised that when the hand over of power came, Vyra would be
transformed.  And as Larson went through in his head the speech that he
was going to make, to begin what was scheduled to be the last full
council session of his Governorship, he was satisfied with what he had
achieved.  The planet had three main products, light industry,
agriculture (vital for distant Earth) and of course Vyra itself or
rather it's location, handy as it was as a jumping off point for other
territories.  The principle aim as far as Larson had been concerned was
defence.  For all Vyra's remoteness and importance, it was sparsely
defended, since Larson took over, the planet boasted three full
Starfighter squadrons, several thousand ground troops, an extensive
array of ground-based anti-aircraft pulsars, an emergency sub-space
transmitter for calling reinforcements from Earth, and lastly a modest
version of the defence shield that protected Earth.  This last system
was still to be properly tested and was to be activated at the ceremony
of autonomy, one week hence.
     Larson strode confidently into the chamber where his dozen or so
councillors were waiting, chatting amongst themselves, they all
politely stopped upon his entrance and rose from their seats in
deference, one or two even bowing slightly.  He motioned them all to
sit as he did and after customary exchanges of pleasantries, he pulled
out a small data clip, plugged it into a socket on the table in front
of him and began to make his speech from the notes in front of him.  He
had hoped, that among those documents that had survived World War III,
would be transcripts of the speeches made by some of those who had
presided over independence ceremonies in the 20th century, but alas,
none were to hand.
     "My friends, I come before you for the last time as Governor, not
to mention the Governor from Earth.  My successor will be essentially a
figurehead who will, hopefully not pester you like I do."  There were
polite and diplomatic smiles and giggles at the unfunny joke.
     "I have a confession to make, however.  When I first took up my
post, I started a countdown to the day I handed over the reins of
power.  Today when I got up as with each preceding day, I made a note
of how many days I had left, today it was seven days, one week.  Now
it's not because I view my posting here as akin to a prison sentence,
no.  It is because when I took over, there were several things I wished
to accomplish before I left.  I'm pleased to say that with a week to
spare I've succeeded in all but one or two..." He was broken off by an
alert klaxon sounding off.  The councillors all began turning to the
person next to them and excitedly quizzing each other as to what was
happening.  Larson however had walked over to a quiet corner of the
room and was speaking to the administrator of the colony's defences via
his personal communicator.
     Brigadier Philip F. Nowlan, clad in the familiar layered, all
white Earth Defence Directorate uniform, (complete with appropriate
flourishes) stared with astonishment and mounting horror at the central
display.  The display, which dominated one whole wall of the Vyra
Defence command centre (now bathed in red emergency lighting) showed a
Three-D sphere of the planet with literally hundreds of wedge shaped
icons, each representing an unidentified ship swarming in towards it
from some point of origin just beyond the range of planetary scanners. 
Nowlan had risen from his console and was standing before the screen,
conferring with his subordinates.  Nowlan's communications headset
beeped into life and a confused and concerned Governor Larson came on
the air requesting an update.
     "Sir several minutes ago we lost contact with a Starfighter patrol
that had been sent to check out an anomalous contact that had just come
through the Stargate.  The next thing we knew there were hundreds of
small craft heading down towards us."
     "What's their ETA?" enquired Larson.
     "Three, minutes sir.  I've just ordered all our defences to
prepare to repel borders, including scrambling all serviceable
Starfighters.  However I should inform you that our shield won't be
operational."
     "Alert Earth Defence Directorate and initiate the civil defence
procedures."  There was a crack in Larson's usually calm voice that
betrayed the dryness in his mouth that was a symptom of the fear and
tension that was clearly mounting within him.
     "I already have."  Nowlan's reply was to the point and hinted at
the feelings of impotence that he felt towards defeating their
unidentified assailant.

     Major Fran Ciardi the leader of one of the three fighter squadrons
based on Vyra, ran to her Starfighter the moment she heard the alert,
the rest of her pilots were close on her heels.  She sprinted out into
the cavernous Hanger Bay towards her off-white, catamaran-hulled
fighter and clambered into the inverted wedge-shaped cockpit her white
flight helmet already on her head.
     "What's going on?" her orange-clad maintenance chief called after
her.
     "Not sure.  Perhaps an unscheduled rehearsal for the aerial salute
we're to give as Governor Larson stands down," she quipped as she
activated her ship and steered over to the nearest available launch
channel.  She lined up as the landing gear under her cockpit and the
downward slanted aerofoils on her Starfighter connected with the guide
rails of the launch channel ahead of her.  She punched some buttons on
her instrument panel and heard the familiar rising drone of her engines
as her ship revved for take off.  In front of her, a strip of lights
advanced towards her from the end of the multi-coloured launch channel,
when they reached the mouth of the tube Ciardi pressed a button on her
control column and was catapulted down the channel and up a ramp at the
end into the clear blue sky.  The forty or so Starfighters, all the
serviceable ships available converged after launch and climbed
steadily, their targeting systems and pulsar cannons already armed. 
Below, in the streets of Vyra's population centres, civilians were
herded into special subterranean compounds and the anti-aircraft
batteries powered up.
     The first visual contact with the swarm of ships came as the
Starfighters cleared the atmosphere.  The approaching craft were
roughly oval in plan with very few features or markings except for a
pair of concentric blue pentagons on each 'wingtip' of the ships.  The
craft moved in a slightly wavy pattern, weaving slightly from side to
side as they moved forward.  They reminded Ciardi of a swarm of bees
she'd once seen as a child on a trip to the country near her native
city of Nu Yok.  About one hundred craft from the front of the swarm
broke formation and began to bear down on the Starfighters, Ciardi knew
exactly what was about to happen, as a veteran of the abortive
Draconian takeover of Earth and some of the 'pirate attacks' that
preceded it, she was no virgin when it came to combat but the odds were
still daunting.  All here anxieties and concerns were swiftly placed on
the back burner however as the attack suddenly developed.  High above
Ciardi, three ships in a triangular formation performed a cartwheel
before diving down on her emitting cobalt blue laser pulses.  Ciardi's
ship obediently altered course to avoid them, albeit sluggishly.  She
never gave the computer a second chance to repeat the manoeuvre as she
deactivated it and went to manual pulling the ship into a steep climb
that brought her to bear on her attackers.  A warning beep wafted its
way through her cockpit as her targeting computer sized up one of the
Raiders in its sights.  The craft appeared as a holographic
representation in the centre of two purple hoops, one vertical, the
other horizontal, both studded with notches.  As the craft centred
itself in the hoops Ciardi pulled the trigger and two pairs of bright
green laser pulses lanced into one of the circular craft reducing it to
ashes and sending it's two wing mates fleeing in different directions. 
Anger had suddenly entered Ciardi's system as she pulled her craft into
an arc that left her in level flight but upside down.  Rolling the
'right way up' (relative to the planet that is), she closed on one of
the fleeing Raiders and fired again, watching it explode.
     All around her ships criss-crossed the sky firing green or blue
laser pulses at each other.  Unfortunately, as predictably as the
pattern the Raiders flew, more and more Starfighters were falling to
the enemy.  This was due to the fact that only about eight or nine of
the pilots in battle at that moment were experienced to any degree. 
The rest, all from Vyra, were rookies who still put too much faith in
their flight computers, which had never been updated with the new
tactics programs that had come on stream during the last year or so. 
Ciardi and the other experienced pilots, all but one of which hailed
from Earth, had been sent to bolster Vyra's forces and pass on their
recently acquired skills.  The numbers had always been against them
anyway they were outnumbered by at least five, maybe even six to one. 
Ciardi glanced up and saw her wingman Lieutenant Wedge formate on her.
     "I lost Styles, and Frost.  These bastards are all over us," he
angrily shouted.
     Biting back her emotions Ciardi replied, "Most of the Raiders have
carried down towards the surface, those anti-aircraft pulsars aren't
going to be much use."  She didn't need to continue as a group of six
Starfighters headed for the planet.
     When the group broke through the clouds, they could already see
the devastation below them.  Vyra's second city, the seat of
administration and the home of the Command Centre were taking heavy
hits.  The bile rose up in Ciardi's throat has she threw her
Starfighter into a very steep dive, coming up on the tail of a Raider. 
She managed to hit it but it was only damaged.  She watched with horror
as, trailing smoke from it's port engine, it continued on towards the
spherical building that housed the council chambers at the last minute
it let out a short volley of laser blasts before slamming into the
building itself, causing it to collapse in flames.  By now tears were
staring to flow as other Raiders streaked at roof top level strafing
the streets which were still clogged with civilians who had been unable
to seek shelter prior to the attack.  Ciardi positioned herself in such
a way that a single volley of laser shots would destroy a trio of
Raiders that had just shot up the main street of the city's retail
district.  With genuine venom in her fangs she let rip with the blasts
which all struck home, the third Raider erupting in flames before the
explosion of the first had dispersed.  So intent was she in her course
of action that she was taken aback by four Raiders in formation that
had closed on her from above and behind.
     "Wedge!"  She called out to her Wingman, "Wedge!"  Even as she
shouted his name she realised what had happened to him, and the others. 
She made a scream of defiance as a laser blast took out her port engine
pod sending her fighter cart wheeling to the ground below.  As the
Starfighter struck the ground, flaming shards of debris from her ship
went flying out in all directions.  Some of those shards set light to
flags and celebratory banners in the nearby main square of the city. 
The flames that rapidly consumed them seemed to be an appropriate
symbol for the chaos and destruction that abounded.

Chapter Two

     The man in animal skins perched atop the horse with a similarly
(un) dressed brunet clinging to his waist, trotted over to the
orange-haired, ape creature tied to the tree.  A brief debate ensued
before the man indicated his intentions.
     "It just doesn't make sense.  A planet where apes evolved from
man?  There's got to be an explanation somewhere," the man pointed out.
     "Don't look for it Taylor!" the Ape began. "You may not like what
you find."  Ignoring his pleas, the man called Taylor kicked the horse
into motion, which took them away along a stretch of beach.  At the
orange ape's beckoning, a group of darker skinned apes reminiscent of
large chimpanzees came over to him.
     "Untie me!" commanded the orange ape.  The chimpanzees dutifully
complied with his wishes.  A group of gorillas made to go after Taylor
and the woman but were motioned to halt and the orange ape instructed
the gorillas to blow up the entrance to a nearby cave in spite of a
promise he had made to the chimps to the contrary.
     "What about the doll?" a female chimp, Zira pressed.
     "In a few minutes there'll be no doll, there can't be," Zaius said
without compromise.
     "But Doctor Zaius you promised," pointed out a younger chimp, "Why
must knowledge stand still? What about the future?"
     "I may just have saved it for you," the ape Zaius replied.  
     "What will he find Doctor?" Zira asked.
     "His destiny," came Zaius' response.
     Taylor and the woman on horseback in the meantime continued along
the beach disappearing from the apes view behind a promontory.  The
waves occasionally lapped up around the horse's ankles as it clomped
along.  After a short time Taylor pulled the horse up short as a large
object, half buried in the sand, blackened and decayed with age, reared
up before them.  Taylor climbed off the horse and strode through the
waves to get a closer look at what to him was a familiar landmark.  He
looked up at it with horror and stammered,
     "Oh my God!  I'm back.  After all this time!"  Anger began to
surface as he fell to his knees amid the waves repeatedly pounding the
sand with his fist.
     "We finally, really did it!"  He looked up at the remains of the
Statue of Liberty's upper torso and cried with equal amounts of pain
and rage.  "You murderers!  You blew it all up!  God damn you, God damn
you all to Hell!"  He broke down at that point and stared down at the
mounds of wet sand in his hands as the woman approached him not
comprehending why he was behaving the way he was.

     The image on the screen faded to black at that point with the
credits scrolling up on the screen to the sound of the waves beating
against the sand.
     "I'd like the lights on," Buck Rogers called out as the screen
that had displayed The Planet of the Apes switched off.  Buck and his
companion, a striking honey blonde in her late twenties/early thirties,
Colonel Wilma Deering a commander in the Earth Defence Directorate and
Buck's sometime lover, emerged from the Centrex entertainment centre
and sat down in some leather chairs in the living room of Buck's
archaically decorated quarters.
     "You know Wilma, back in my youth that was one of my favourite
films.  I've lost count of the number of times I've seen it.  But
now...."  He glanced back towards the small room packed with the latest
entertainment and visual stimulation systems of the era.  
     "I can see why.  The similarities between your predicament and the
character of George Taylor are striking," Wilma agreed.
     "Both of you sent on deep space flights that went wrong, and both
of you forced to spend your lives in a strange new world, though the
character of Taylor did seem to have a more pessimistic outlook on 20th
century life than you did."
     "It was the first time since I was given it that I watched it from
start to finish."  Buck agreed.
     Attempting to lighten proceedings Wilma asked, "Didn't the actor
who played Taylor, go on to become President of the United States?"
     Buck smiled.  "No, it was Charlton Heston who starred in that
movie.  You're thinking of Ronald Reagan."  Then trying to add a little
of his usually levity to further lighten the oppressive atmosphere that
had seemed to develop, he continued, "You know there's another
difference between Taylor & me.  At least I came back to a world filled
with people.  It would be hard for me to relate to Doctor Huer for
instance if he were an orang-utan.  Though you'd look pretty convincing
as a half-naked cavewoman."
     Wilma grabbed a cushion and proceeded to bash Buck over head with
it, grinning as she did.   
     The movie was one of a growing collection of data clips that Buck
had been given, mainly by Doctor Junius of the archives.  The
collection included classics such as Gone with the Wind, all nineteen
James Bond movies and the Star Wars movies.  He'd been surprised to
discover that a few years after he left Earth two more such films,
so-called prequels, had been made starting with The Phantom Menace in
1999, and had been disappointed to learn that the Nuclear Holocaust had
occurred prior to the filming of the other two movies, leaving him with
four out of the six chapters.  The Planet of the Apes had been given to
Buck as a present a few weeks ago after being transposed from reels of
film like the others in Buck's collection, found in an underground
archive in Kansas.  These cool, man-made caves had once been salt mines
up until the mid-20th century when Hollywood studios had taken them
over to store their film libraries.  The gift was thanks by Junius for
Buck's assistance in helping to compile a history of Terran space
exploration from its origins in gunpowder to Buck's own deep space
mission.
     The moment was broken with the beep of a communicator.  With a
sigh Buck walked over to the comm. panel and tapped a few buttons.  It
was Doctor Huer.
     "Buck, I'm given to understand that Colonel Deering is with you. 
Would it be possible for me to speak with her please?  In person."
     "Sure Doc, she'll be right up.  Anything the matter?" Buck
enquired.  The Earth Defence Directorate Administrator, who had played
such a pivotal role in helping Buck to rebuild and redirect his life
since re-awakening in the 25th century, wouldn't be drawn further. 
Looking beyond Buck to where Wilma Deering was standing, he continued,
"I'll discuss it with you when you arrive Colonel."
     Wilma acknowledged the summons, and with Buck at her heels, headed
for the nearest air-tram terminal to take her to the Defence
Directorate building, a white, rather featureless and slab-sided five
story compound a couple of blocks from Buck's apartment complex.  In
spite of Wilma's polite protests at Buck accompanying her, they both
clambered aboard a departing air-tram, a rather ungainly looking
vehicle that was a 25th century equivalent of a bus.  This rectangular
conveyance was capable of travelling at high speeds through the city on
an electromagnetic cushion that kept it at least twenty feet above the
ground, as it followed a carefully programmed course along an elevated
track of pylons.
     The Doctor was only half-surprised to see Buck enter with Wilma,
dressed in 20th century clothing as he usually did, in this case jeans
and a t-shirt that sported an unfathomable military insignia.
     "What is it Doctor?  Your call sounded urgent."  Wilma glanced at
an antique carriage clock on Huer's Perspex desk.  "Especially at this
hour of the night."
     Huer gave a wary glance in Buck's direction.  Ever since Buck had
turned down the offer to join the Defence Directorate formerly, he had
fulfilled Huer's prediction that he would help them out on a
case-by-case basis.  Though lately he had been spending a lot of time
with Earth's historical and archaeological community, helping to piece
together records and artefacts that pre-dated the Holocaust. Thanks to
Buck, Earth's knowledge about her past had grown enormously in just a
short time.  It had however been some time since Buck had volunteered
his services for the Directorate other than to help train fighter
pilots.  This perhaps had something to do with Buck turning down the
offer of an assignment with the Science Directorate aboard the Starship
Searcher.  Under the command of the noted Admiral Asimov, a descendent
of the famous science fiction writer, the Searcher was on a mission to
find long lost worlds settled by refugees from the Holocaust.  Perhaps
Buck's decision to remain on Earth had to do with Wilma's similar
decision, the two did seem to be getting closer whilst Buck's romantic
dalliances with a variety of women seemed to be getting fewer.  Huer
however, was reluctant to include Buck in the discussions until or
unless he was willing to help, so grave was the situation.
     "Oh, I'm sorry to have dragged you down here Buck, but due to the
nature of the situation I'm afraid for the moment this is for the
Colonel's ears only.  Planetary security, you understand."  Huer tried
to make the request for Buck to butt out as friendly and polite as
possible.  What followed had become something of a ritual over the last
two years.  Buck would stand in a corner of the room while Huer and
Wilma discussed the situation at hand in guarded tones as Buck would
attempt to listen in, occasionally asking questions or supplying input,
until such time as either Huer or Wilma pressed Buck on whether he
would lend a hand.  To date he had never said no.  This time was no
exception.
     "Well then, in that case, perhaps I should give you some
background information."  Huer motioned for Buck and Wilma to sit down
at his desk when Buck agreed.  Huer then began his explanation.  "The
planet Vyra is arguably our remotest colony of note.  It has a
population of approximately a quarter of a billion people.  Vast
natural resources that are suitable for light industry and a climate
from pole to pole simply ideal for agriculture.  There are several
cities of various sizes on the planet.  The second of which, in terms
of its size and range of amenities is the seat of government.  Not
unlike the relationship in your century Buck between Washington DC and
Nu Yok, sorry New York.  Next week the planet was to celebrate the
bicentennial of its settlement.  The current Governor would be standing
down and as the centrepiece of the celebrations, an unprecedented
degree of autonomy was to be granted to the planet.  In truth, because
of Vyra's distance from Earth, the colony has enjoyed defacto autonomy
since its founding two centuries ago, but this would codify and confirm
that autonomy, rendering all future Governors of the colony as
figureheads more or less."
     Huer pressed a button and a three dimensional globe of the planet
was projected above the desk.  By manipulating controls, Huer was able
to 'zoom' in on some sites and places on the colony.  They were
breathtaking in their beauty.  Lush green fields gentle rolling hills,
acres and acres of farmland and cities, which, though they featured the
same geometric designs as the buildings in New Chicago, were, laid out
in a more natural and pleasing way with more colours and greenery. 
Much of the countryside reminded Buck of the southern portion of Great
Britain.  During his time with the US Air Force, he had been stationed
for a time at RAF Lakenheath airbase north of London from where he had
flown F-15 Eagle fighters.  It hadn't been uncommon for Buck and his
colleagues to spend their weekends and holidays visiting the quaint
country villages and their public houses or 'pubs' as the locals called
them, scattered around the base.
     Buck commented on this similarity.  "That's one of the reasons for
Vyra's selection as a colony.  The bulk of the first generation
colonists hailed from the part of Earth you knew of as the British
Isles."
     Huer switched of the holographic viewer and pressed on with his
briefing.  "For the last few weeks, several Stargates in the sector
have been playing up, seemingly expelling vessels, though by the time
anyone arrived to investigate, things had settled down.  All we could
do with step up patrols and check the mechanism within the Stargates. 
Then, a few hours ago they sent a distress signal on a special subspace
channel."  
     Huer played a garbled audio transmission that threatened to break
up on several occasions.  Not much could be made out of it save a few
references to a full-scale attack.  The transmission sent chills up the
spine of all three people in the office, even Doctor Huer, for whom
this was the third or fourth airing.
     "...is Earth colony Vyra...under attack...large numbers...type
un...send fighters...."
     "Have we dispatched reinforcements?" Wilma, ever the concerned
officer asked.  Buck could imagine her preparing to go off and change
into her flight gear and participate, or even lead an attempt to
relieve the beleaguered colony.
     "I've placed six full squadrons of Starfighters from Earth plus
three more scattered amongst various colonies and other bases on full
alert, waiting to go at a moments notice.  However I'm reluctant to
dispatch them in spite of the consequences of such a delay until we
know what we're up against.  Although garbled, Doctor Theopolus and
others have determined that the transmission clearly indicates a
numerically large, well-organised force, not privateers.  We dare not
send substantial forces to Vyra at this point, lest Earth herself
becomes vulnerable."
     Huer's caution was understandable, though frustrating.  Earth's
strategic situation though rosy compared with what it was like when
Buck had first arrived almost two years earlier, was still not ideal. 
They had almost quadruple the number of fighters and pilots that they
had first had when Buck had returned to Earth, and thanks to him they
and their flight computers had vastly updated their tactics, even so,
it was acknowledged that Earth would need almost twice as many ships
and pilots than it currently had to be truly safe & secure.  And that
was still a couple of years away.
     "Until that business last year with Queen Zarina in that alternate
universe we found ourselves in, I would have blamed the Draconians, but
as a result of that incident, relations between Earth and the Draconian
Realm have never been better.  Besides, they have no direct territorial
access to Vyra."  
     "What is it that you want us to do?"  Buck had correctly surmised
that he and Wilma hadn't been called in by Huer just to be informed of
the developing crisis or join the squadrons on alert.
     "We'd like you to take a Starfighter ahead of the relief force to
Vyra to ascertain the situation.  Only if you can return and indicate
what enemy force is waiting out there will I send those fighters. 
Should we not hear from you in the next forty-eight hours however, I'll
send the squadrons in regardless."
     The three rose from Huer's desk.  As Buck and Wilma made to leave,
Huer called out after them, "Good luck, I hope to see you soon."
     "Relax Doc, it'll be a piece of cake."  Buck smiled at Huer as he
gave him his reassuring ad by now familiar catch phrase.  As the door
closed behind them, Huer sat back down at his desk and realised that it
wouldn't be that simple.
     Things became still more complicated as the door chime sounded
almost making Huer jump.  "Enter," he commanded.
     Moments later the door opened long enough to deposit Twiki the
short, silver Ambu-Quad drone with Computer Council member Doctor
Theopolus strapped to his chest.  Behind them was a man in his mid
forties who exuded an air of importance, without the robes he wore.
     "Doctor Theopolus, Governor-designate Latimer.  What can I do for
you both?" Huer asked.
     Twiki placed Theopolus onto the table and trotted over to stand by
Huer.  "Bede, bede, bede, aren't you forgetting somebody?"  Twiki
asked.  Ordinarily a drone like him wouldn't be able to talk. Merely
create sounds that could only be interpreted by other cybernetic life
forms.  Since his association with Buck Rogers however, that had
changed.
     "My apologies Twiki," Huer replied with sincerity before turning
his attention to the other two arrivals in his office.  Latimer was
Larson's successor as Governor of Vyra.  He had been due to shuttle out
to the colony later that week in time for the celebrations and his own
inauguration, but the crisis had changed his travel plans.  Although he
was an ambitious man, and his new post would be largely ceremonial, he
was astute enough to realise that given Vyra's importance, it could be
a major feather in his cap.  Additionally there were more supportable
and selfless reasons for taking the post.  His wife and several close
friends all came from Vyra, and he had several vested interests in that
world.
     "I understand that you have recommended that our forces are not to
launch for Vyra, at least not for the moment."  Latimer gave a nod in
Theopolus' direction as he added, "And the Computer Council has
approved said recommendation."
     "Correct.  We simply don't know who or what we're up against, or
why they attacked the colony.  Until we do, we launch at great risk." 
Huer was confident his actions were correct.
     "But my wife went on ahead to Vyra to stay with relatives in the
main city.  And I've also got some friends in the capital who I'm
worried about."  Latimer's normally confident voice hid none of the
anguish & fear he was going through.  Huer tried to reassure him on a
number of points,
     "The colony had some of the best defences as well as the most
extensive civil defence and emergency facilities of any planet I could
mention save possibly Earth.  I've no doubt that your Wife and friends
found shelter before the attack was beaten off."
     "Don't patronise me Huer.  We both know that they could be dead or
dying now and the only thing that could prevent that are the couple of
hundred Starfighters you've got sitting in our Launch Bays awaiting
launch."
     "And they'll go as soon as we know some facts we're not in
possession of as yet," Theopolus pointed out.
     "At this moment, two of my best pilots are preparing to make a
reconnaissance of the planet prior to a full scale launch of our
forces.  They'll be leaving shortly."  Huer remained calm and impassive
throughout.
     "Well I'm going to go with them."  Latimer didn't expound on that
statement.  He rose from his chair and headed for the door.
     "I must insist that you stay here Governor, if only for the
moment," Huer called after him.
     "I'm going with them, Huer.  Attempt to stop me and you'll be
Deputy Director of Waste Disposal by sun-up."  The threat, though not
idle, would be difficult to implement.  Nevertheless, Huer bowed to the
inevitable.
     "If the Governor-Designate is determined to go, then so shall I,"
Theopolus announced taking everyone by surprise.  Twiki, realising that
meant his going along commented,
     "Bede, bede, bede, Don't forget to write."  He turned to leave
before a direct command from the Computer Council member, softened by a
reminder that Buck would be with them, changed the Quad's mind.
     With a look of resignation on his face Huer remarked to the
otherwise empty office, "I'll contact the Launch Bay and have them
delay Buck and Colonel Deering's launch."

Chapter Three

From the Adama Journals:
     As we prepare to mark the sixth anniversary of the beginning of
our flight from the Cylons and begin our seventh Yarhen in the cosmic
wilderness, we consider the momentous events, events that bode both
good and ill for the continuation of our journey.  For it was several
weeks ago that we first stumbled upon artificial passageways in space. 
These passageways have already transported us thousands of
light-yahrens through space, with automated probes and sensors telling
us there are more ahead, and although there is a chance that we may
have skipped past Earth, our hoped for destination, we feel our
commitment to our journey renewed from swiftly traversing such
distances.  Unfortunately our enemies have also found these
passageways.  Sensors have been tracking for this past week, three
Cylon Basestars, almost certainly under the command of the traitor
Baltar whom I believe was rescued from exile.  An exile I placed him in
for his helping us destroy a lone Basestar during our last significant
engagement with the Cylons.  For once I find myself at loggerheads with
the Quorum of Twelve, not because of their reluctance to press on with
our exodus, but because I wish us to pause so as to determine how best
to proceed without alerting our enemies.  To do otherwise would be to
invite disaster in such a thorough fashion as to undue all the progress
we've made these past few weeks....

     Lieutenant Athena, Commander Adama's daughter and a senior
Galactica Bridge officer looked up from her communications panel from
where she could communicate with other areas of the ship and the rest
of the Fleet, and caught sight of her Father entering the vast Bridge
area.
     "Colonel, my Father's here."
     Colonel Tigh, Adama's Executive Officer acknowledged and after
vacating Adam's command chair joined him at the rear of the Bridge,
dominated by a large transparent star map attached to the wall.
     "Yes Colonel, your summons was urgent I believe."  Adama had just
returned from a special session of the Quorum of Twelve held aboard the
pleasure ship Rising Star ostensibly as a chance for the Twelve to
congratulate themselves on their finally nearing the end of their
journey (even though they hadn't yet found evidence of Earth).  When
Adama had raised his objections, the meeting had turned into another
exasperating debate between Adama and his couple of supporters on one
side and the rest of the Quorum (the majority as per usual) on the
other.  So much so that Adama's first act upon returning to the
Galactica had been to head for his quarters for a much needed rest
period to calm down and collect his thoughts.  Now he was standing
before the main map grid at the rear of the Galactica's Bridge
following an urgent request from Colonel Tigh. 
     "As per your instructions Commander, you wished to be called to
the Bridge when we had word that the Cylon Basestar that left to go
through that passageway they're on top of returned."  Tigh illustrated
his response by shining a red dot from a small hand held projector onto
the red grid of the Perspex star-map.  Adama looked past Tigh at the
symbols that represented the trio of Basestars that stood between the
Colonial Fleet of refugees lead by the Galactica, and one of the
artificial passageways.  Days earlier, one of the three ships had broke
formation and traversed the passage.
     "Our automated probe we had monitoring them in that system
reported it returned about a centar ago.  Since then it's electronic
guidance channels between it and the other two Basestars have been in
constant touch.  I haven't seen that much or kind of download of
information since we eavesdropped on some Cylon vessels doing the same
thing after they ambushed the Fleet and then attacked our Colonies," 
Tigh explained.
     "You're suggesting that the ship may have launched some kind of
assault on the other side of that passage?"
     Tigh didn't respond to Adama's query, they both knew the
intelligence supported no alternative conclusion.
     Adama slowly walked up the steps to his command chair and sat
down, shaking his head gently.  He turned his chair round to face Tigh. 
"The Quorum thinks we should press on once again.  Use the passageway
separating us from the Cylon taskforce and then try and charge the
blockade and go through the passageway beyond."
     "They can't be serious."  Tigh knew that they were even as he
asked the question.
     Echoing his thoughts, Adama continued, "Even if, by some miracle
we could get through, we would have to have first suffered horrendous
casualties and then the Cylons, who would almost certainly be
relatively unscathed, would pursue us.  At this moment I don't believe
they know where we are in relation to them.  They know we're in this
general area but nothing more."
     "And to break through, the Galactica and our Vipers would have to
go on ahead.  Should one or more additional Cylon ships we know nothing
about right now, show up behind us, they could take the rest of the
Fleet apart with impunity, ship by defenceless ship," Tigh added to the
assessment.
     "It's just perfect.  They know that we've stumbled upon these
passageways just like they have.  They too can see the pattern of
dispersal of these passages well enough to know that we have to go past
them to continue using them, or spend another generation travelling
conventionally to reach their position under our own steam."  As usual
Tigh had put his finger on the problem at hand.
     Adama nodded at his friend's assessment of the situation.  "The
Quorum wouldn't see it that way, or at least they wouldn't let
themselves do so.  I don't know these passages are just as much a curse
as they are a blessing," Adama conceded.
     "How do you see that Adama?  It would have taken us generations to
travel the same distance without them.  Everyone in the Fleet, the
Quorum included for once, seems raring to press on with our journey to
Earth," Tigh argued trying to lift Adama's spirits as well as prod him
into saying more.  The population of the Fleet upon the beginning of
the exodus had been approximately seven hundred thousand; it was now
almost a million.  The two hundred or so ships in the Fleet designated
for human habitation had been overcrowded as it was, now it was only a
question of time before catastrophe.
     "Tigh, ever since we left the Colonies, I've hoped to be able to
get everyone else in the Fleet to go along with the idea of this search
for Earth.  Apart from a very brief time in the first week or two of
our journey, I've never succeeded, not until we found those
passageways.  I believe that just beyond the passageway where the
Cylons are waiting we will find Earth, or at least tangible signs of
her civilisation, but to press on without first finding a way to deal
with the Cylons practically is simply not acceptable."
     Adama turned his attention back to the main view screen that
revealed a rather bland and (because of the snails pace Adama had the
Fleet travel under to evade Cylon detection) static star field.  He
absently stroked his chin for a few moments whilst coming to a
decision.  He rose from his chair and headed towards the nearest exit. 
He paused long enough to turn to Colonel Tigh and said, "You have the
conn Colonel.  Place a small group of Vipers, say a section, on patrol
alert prepared to go through the passageway ahead to the star system
containing the Cylon Fleet to take a closer look, should anything
interesting happen there."
     Tigh simply nodded as Adama turned and strode out.  Before
appropriating the command chair once again, Colonel Tigh moved to one
of the alcoves on the Bridge, studded with numerous computer screens
and readouts and ordered Flight Corporal Rigel to notify suitable
Warriors from one of the Galactica's four Viper squadrons to go to
standby.

     The three Baseships hung serenely above a large, orange gas giant
planet.  The large circular vessels kept perfect position which each
other as they slowly rotated upon the centre of their own access. 
Aboard one of those ships, buried with the lower of the two saucers
attached one atop the other by a central column were sumptuous
quarters.  The mere existence of quarters with the furnishings and
decor it contained, chaffed with the very design philosophy of the
ship's creators.  Its sole occupant's presence aboard the ship would
have also chaffed with those creators.  Count Baltar (the title was
self-proclaimed) was in his fifties, slightly plump around the waist
with a full head of brown hair, severely greying if not whitening at
the temples.  At one time in his life, like many of his peers he'd
aspired to become a Colonial Warrior, but like all too many of those
peers, he failed to make the final grade.  For him that was a mere
detail.  The calling in of some long overdue debts by his Father, a
prosperous Piscean trader, and an elicit, amorous encounter one night
between Baltar and the wife of a prominent Warrior had changed that. 
Unfortunately, it all caught up with Baltar very quickly and the
jubilation he had felt following his reinstatement to the Colonial
Academy was turned into despair.  On one of his first patrols, Baltar
was forced to make a crash landing on his parent ship, the Battlestar
Solaria, writing off his Scorpion fighter and due to an injury that to
this day gave him a noticeable limp, had seen him forced to leave the
service.  No amount of favours or sleeping around was going to change
things that time around.  It had left him with a desire for revenge,
not at the society whose aggressive actions towards humanity had
crippled him, but the one that had twice drummed him out of the job he
loved, his own society.  The destruction of the Colonies and the
subsequent hunting down of the Colonial Fleet that he had actively and
enthusiastically participated in had helped satiate his appetite for
vengeance.   Now he was in charge of the Fleet of Cylon warships that
would, one day soon eliminate for good his fellow humans.  
     As Baltar dressed in his fine, green velvet robes and proceeded to
the control area of the ship, he reflected on how much his luck had
stayed with him since the destruction of the twelve Colonies.  First he
had escaped death by persuading the current Imperious Leader that he
could help bring the surviving humans to heel, then he had been rescued
by his new colleagues when he had become trapped in the ruins of an
ancient Pyramid on his ancestral home world of Kobol.  And most
recently following several months of incarceration at the hands of his
fellow humans he had been set free.  Admittedly after helping them
destroy a lone Baseship that they had encountered.  A few weeks after
Adama had kept his word and unceremoniously dumped Baltar on a nearby
inhabited world, the short range communications equipment Adama had let
him have enabled him to contact the Cylon Baseship he had been assigned
which had still been pursuing the Colonials.  He still remembered the
day a pair of Cylon Raiders and a troop transport had landed on the
tropical planet that he had been forced to call home.
     Their first words upon finding and recognising him had been, "By
your Command." A promising sign, if he ever needed one.  They could've
just as easily have executed him or at least taken him back to their
parent ship in chains on charges of treason.  He had managed to come up
with a story to explain his circumstances and what he'd said and done
during his imprisonment.  His associates had been sceptical at first,
but after telling them about numerous human-occupied planets the Fleet
had encountered on it's journey which were promptly destroyed by the
Cylon armada, he was back in their good books again, complete with a
new force of three Baseships at his disposal.
     Baltar entered his Throne Room, a rotund, violet-coloured room
with read strip lights mid-way up the walls with a breathtaking star
field for a ceiling.  And where the only light source was a single
shaft of light from that ceiling that illuminated the central column
with his rotating throne upon it, though with no apparent source of
that illumination.  Now sooner had Baltar settled himself than the two
transparent doors to his chamber opened with their familiar swish.  A
large, humanoid looking robot entered at this point with long garments
and a teardrop shaped head.  Its vestigial arms were concealed beneath
two large sleeves pinned to the sides of its torso.  It seemingly
glided to a point near the foot of the pedestal and spoke in a silky
smooth voice.
     "By your command."
     Baltar's throne slowly revolved to face the new arrival and
commanded it to speak.
     "The ship we sent to eliminate the human outpost on the other side
of the corridor has returned.  They report complete success.  What
defences the planet had were overwhelmed and all the population centres
obliterated."  At this point, its voice took on an almost excited tone. 
"And it returned with human prisoners, or at least information of value
to us about the planet."
     Baltar's voice dared the response to contradict this assumption.
     "Not exactly."
     "Lucifer, how can the attack on the humans be a complete success
if they didn't bring back what I asked."
     Lucifer, the IL series '2nd Brain' Cylon who served as his
second-in-command replied in an almost awkward tone of voice.  "I'm
afraid the Centurion in command got a little carried away with the
raid.  By they time they realised that they had gone too far, it was
already over."  Attempting to forestall Baltar venting his growing rage
in his direction, Lucifer continued, "The Centurion made amends by
ensuring that a distress signal the humans sent out was not stopped,
merely disrupted enough to hide key information.  He feels confident
that some form of small-scale reconnaissance will be attempted and to
that end he detailed a small group of Centurions and their ships to
remain behind.  Large enough to capture a small investigation, but also
small enough to evade detection should a sizeable human force arrive."
     "Well Lucifer, let us hope, that they do indeed 'make amends' for
their over zealousness."  Baltar did not sound hopeful.

Chapter Four

     The five occupants of the Starfighter, three human and two
cybernetic, were silent as they exited the Stargate in the vicinity of
Vyra.  Latimer, (only an occasional Stargate user) was so preoccupied
with his wife and friends' predicament that he didn't feel any of the
queasiness that people who didn't use Stargates that often commonly
felt during the passage.  He glanced through the front screen of the
cockpit as best as he could toward the planet they were heading for. 
Vyra was very similar to Earth.  It was roughly the same size, had a
similar land to ocean surface ratio, and an identical gravitational and
magnetic field and atmosphere.  From a distance, the orb of Vyra, with
it's blue oceans, white clouds and polar caps together with the greens,
browns and salmons of the landmasses could be mistaken for Earth.  But
that was where the similarities between the two worlds ended.  Because
unlike Earth, it wasn't tilted on an axis, combined with its proximity
to it's star, Vyra enjoyed a temperate climate from pole to pole all
year around (approximately thirteen Earth months).  Latimer felt almost
possessive about the world they were approaching; he was, after all, to
have been it's next Governor.
     Buck, who was at the fighter's controls, approached the planet as
stealthily as he possibly could.  Vyra had two moons.  One was like
Earth's moon, only slightly smaller, and with a lot less impact craters
located one hundred and fifty thousand miles from Vyra.  The other was
an asteroid measuring thirty-five miles by seven captured centuries
earlier by the planet's gravity at an altitude of about two thousand
miles.  Buck closed as near to the outer moon as possible.  He'd used a
similar technique five centuries earlier on the Ranger III mission when
he skimmed over (under) the Lunar South Pole at an altitude of about
one hundred miles.  Back the he did it in order to use the Moon to give
his un-powered shuttle a boost out into the Solar System, using the
same technique as the Pioneer X & XI and Voyager I & II probes that had
preceded him years before.  This time he did it to put the mass of
Vyra's moon between him and whatever may have still been lurking out
there.  A few minutes later he did the same with Vyra's asteroid moon.
     "Why don't you simply land Captain?  If I'd wanted a tour of this
planet and it's system of satellites I would have booked passage on a
cruise vessel."  Latimer demanded irritably, breaking the silence. 
Everyone else aboard, either knew or had at least guessed Buck's
strategy.
     "In the 20th century, soldiers called what I'm doing
'dash-&-cover' and submariners 'sprint-&-drift.'  In other words I'm
trying to keep a low profile Governor.  If we went in like you
suggested and the people responsible are still here, we may as well
hang out a neon sign advertising our presence."  
     "What's a neon sign?" asked Latimer confused by Buck's fondness
for using 20th century allegories.
     Routine chatter and radio traffic aside, this was the first real
conversation since the journey began.  Buck and Wilma had been
preparing to leave aboard a standard tandem-two seat Starfighter when
the call came down from Doctor Huer to suspend the launch until Latimer
and Twiki arrived.  There was briefly some discussion about what craft
to use when Latimer had suggested using his VIP transport before he'd
been persuaded to go in a four seat, combat-capable trainer Starfighter
that Buck frequently used.  The trainer wasn't quite as manoeuvrable as
it's two-seat counterpart, but at least they'd have some chance should
they run into any hostiles.  Nevertheless, from the moment they exited
the Stargate, Buck armed the weapons and targeting systems and put the
fighter's scanners to their maximum sensitivity.  For several minutes
they shadowed the asteroid moon before satisfying themselves that there
were no hostiles in the area.  A brief scan of the capital showed
differently.
     "There seems to be several unidentified craft at the main
spaceport," Wilma noted as she searched through the databanks for an
entry.  According to the scans, the craft were roughly circular in plan
form with two blocky engine pods and a central crew area.
     "Bede, bede, bede, uh oh, it looks like we can't land, perhaps
we'd better go get help."  Twiki's protests went unheeded, when after
satisfying himself that they hadn't been spotted and finding a secluded
landing zone, Buck broke formation with the asteroid and headed for the
surface.
     They set down in a small grove with some trees, and what to Buck
looked like a dirt road winding its way through the valley.  As they
had come in to land they had seen the destruction wrought by their
mystery Raiders.  The smoke and flames alone obscured the view and
threw up tremendous clouds of soot and ash.  It would be generations
before Vyra was once again the agricultural wonderland it had once
been.  Now, like it's parent world Earth, it was largely a barren
wasteland.  Whilst they had flown down to their landing site, Latimer
had become increasingly agitated, leaning over the back of Buck's seat
to get a better view, and making increasingly despairing comments about
the situation on the ground.  Latimer had at one point even tried to
get them to land quite close to the city, using the excuse that as the
aggressors were still present, the sooner the ship landed, the less
likely the chance that they would be detected.  Now that they were
down, Latimer had been the first to get out, climbing out of the
sideways opening hatch that the four-seat fighter came equipped with. 
He broke into a trot as his feet touched the ground and after his own
experiences with his overwhelming desire to explore Anarchia when he
first arrived back on Earth, Buck was sympathetic to Latimer's
feelings.
     "That maybe the case Buck, but if those hostiles decide to stay
here much longer, he's going to run right into them," Wilma pointed out
to Buck as the rest of the group caught up with Latimer while he was
taking a breather.  As they reached the top of a nearby hill, they were
able to look down upon the great plane on which the planet's largest
city was located.
     Before them, was the once impressive and imposing skyline of the
city.  It's gleaming spires, towers, domes and spheres now battered and
broken, smoke and flames billowing out everywhere.  Latimer, who had
staggered a few steps further on from the rest of the group before
stopping, just sputtered something and fell to his knees.
     "Damn you Huer!  Your negligence caused this!  When we get back to
Earth I'll see that before that day is out you'll be broken!"  With
that Latimer recovered his strength sufficiently to break into a run
down the hill towards the outskirts of the city before him.  Buck and
Wilma looked at each with a mixture of alarm and concern on their
faces.
     Turning to the drone Buck said, "I know you want to come with us
Theo, but right now we stand a far better chance of catching him on our
own.  I suggest you two go back and wait by the ship and ready her for
takeoff."
     "Bede, bede, bede, don't worry Buck, we'll keep the engine
running in case we have to make a getaway."  The group then split in
two, Twiki heading back to the fighter, whilst Buck and Wilma went
after Latimer, who had already disappeared from sight not very
difficult considering the smoke and ash in the air.
     As Buck and Wilma entered the city's outskirts, they could
literally smell the disaster that had visited here.  The stench of
death was in the air, mixed with smoke and fumes, as well as on
occasion, the heat from dozens of fires, some of them small and some
not so small.  The buildings looked as they had done from a distance,
battered, broken and uninhabitable.  Every so often the two would
encounter a body splayed out like a discarded, life size rag doll.  The
scenes were all too reminiscent to Buck of Anarchia, the remains of
'old' Chicago, Buck's home, the difference was that there, the fires
and death had been gone five centuries when Buck had encountered them. 
All the while Wilma was consulting a handheld holographic projector
with a three-dimensional plan of the city.  She would occasionally
point to something on the map, and at the next intersection along the
route, they would go down a particular street.  After a few hours they
came upon the first of the air raid shelters.  The entrance to the
shelter at the mouth of a wide alleyway was wrenched open with smoke
billowing out of it.  Lying on the ground were two charred skeletons,
still intact despite the absence of skin and muscle.  The skeletons
were fused together in their death poses from the laser rifle blast
that had taken their lives.  One at least had been that of a child.  It
was at that point that they heard the sobbing.
     The two nodded their heads and after quickly consulting the plan,
took off in different directions for the same place.  It was not out of
the question that this was a trick by the mysterious hostiles to draw
them out into some kind of trap whilst posing as distraught survivors. 
Buck peered carefully from behind a pile of rubble and looked on down a
narrow street, bordered on all sides by three and four story dwellings,
most of which had their, roofs, doors and windows shot out and all
looking blackened and burned.  And there, amid the rubble in the middle
of the street, Latimer sat on his knees tears streaming down his face,
which looked a little dirty and tarred from scrabbling around in the
ruins.  Near where he knelt was another entrance to the shelter beneath
them.  More skeletal corpses lay about most wearing the ragged, smoking
remains of their garments.  In Latimer's hand was the skull of one of
the bodies, like some grotesque parody of the famous scene from William
Shakespeare's Hamlet.  Buck closed on the Governor cautiously noticing
that the man had taken a laser pistol from the Starfighter that hung at
his belt.  Wilma was approaching the man from the other side, though
Latimer was far too preoccupied to pay them any attention.  He was
speaking to himself, muttering things, alternating between endearments
that he showered the skull, and curses which were directed at everyone
from God, to Doctor Huer, to the mystery hostiles.  When he finally
realised that he wasn't alone, his head shot up so quickly it nearly
startled Buck and Wilma.  Buck imagined that the look in Latimer's eyes
was a more extreme version of the look that he must have had when he
had found his parents' grave in Anarchia and Twiki and Theo had
attempted to persuade him to leave.
     "Is that your wife Governor?"  Buck asked as he and Wilma finally
closed on Latimer.
     "No, not exactly."  Latimer gave a little guffaw before
explaining, "She's, she was, an 'old flame', named Clarissa.  We parted
on very good terms, in fact it was she who introduced me to my wife,
they were old friends from school you see."
     "How can you be sure it's her?" Wilma asked.
     "Because of this bracelet."  He gently laid the skull back on the
ground and lifted up a bone attached to the decapitated corpse.  A gold
bracelet with a name plaque, somewhat twisted and misshapen, but still
legible was offered up to them.
     "A mutual friend of theirs gave both Clarissa and my wife these
bracelets a couple of years ago as Christmas presents."  As he spoke he
stared at the collection of bodies.  He pointed to another of the
skeletons half concealed by the destroyed doorway.
     "That one over there is her husband, Ronal.  He was a lousy card
player and a notorious cheat.  I've lost count of the number of credits
he owed me over the years.  But I didn't mind because, because I could
always count on him to lend a hand when needed."  Latimer would have
said more but he broke down again.  As Buck reached out a hand to
steady him, he angrily wrenched his shoulder free and stood up.
     "This is all Huer's fault.  If he'd shut those Stargates in the
unexplored regions and given the Vyrans a little more help getting that
shield of theirs up and running, this might not have happened!"
     "You don't mean that Governor.  We never knew this would happen. 
You don't know what you're saying."  Wilma attempted to calm Latimer
down, with little apparent success.  She would have said more but for
the sound of footsteps marching in their direction.
     "I'll kill those monsters!  At the very least they'll be forced to
kill me and then at least I'll be with those I love."  With that
defiant exclamation hanging in the air, Latimer got up, un-holstered
his laser gun and made a run for it.  Buck pulled his own gun out, set
it for stun and prepared to shoot Latimer.  He and Wilma would then
have to get the Governor away as best they could while he was
unconscious.
     It was Wilma who prevented this when she pointed behind them.  To
Buck, they looked like robot Roman Centurions.  They each towered
almost seven feet tall, had some kind of black rubber one-piece garment
with silver armour attached to it.  It was this armour that gave them
their Roman look.  The helmet (minus the horse hair flourish) was
shaped in that way, and they even had short swords, not unlike standard
Roman soldiers.  They also had laser rifles with fixed bayonets and a
single red light that moved back and forth across their face making an
eerie whirring sound as it did.  That bead of light stopped in the dead
centre of their eye bands for a few moments when they noticed Buck and
Wilma.
"By order of the Cylon Alliance, halt where you are and surrender!" 
One of the so-called Cylons called out in a very monotone, electronic
voice.  Buck and Wilma had their own ideas that clashed with those
instructions.  Quickly resetting their lasers to kill, the two fired a
volley of laser shots at the robots to cover their escape through the
rubble, a lucky shot of Wilma's managing to drop one of them.
     "Pursue and capture at least one of the humans.  Those are our
orders."  The Cylon who had given the ineffectual command to Buck and
Wilma reminded his troops.
     "By your command."  The other centurions replied in chorus before
dispersing into smaller groups.
     Evading the Cylons was easy, so easy in fact, that in the process,
Buck and Wilma had become hopelessly lost.  Buck and Wilma's lack of
familiarity with the city, coupled with their reliance on a city plan
that had been rendered obsolete the moment the Cylons attacked left
them essentially trapped.  Packs of dogs that only a few days earlier
had been well-mannered family pets were now roving around in packs,
vicious and in search of food further complicated matters.  Twice the
two almost fell foul of these rabid pack hunters, before well-placed
laser shots sent them scurrying whence they came.  The Cylons were
however another matter entirely.  Buck and Wilma actually managed to
get to the edge of the city without further encounters with the Cylons
(although there were plenty of near misses).  There luck however was
not going to get them much further.  The two almost ran into a group of
three Cylons standing sentry on the outermost edge of the city.  The
rolling plane and gentle hills beyond seemed to taunt the two Earth
warriors, the trick was to get past the Cylons, or at least take them
out without alerting their colleagues.  From behind some masonry that
they had hurriedly ducked behind, the two discussed their predicament,
as well as possible solutions.
     "Well, I think we can rule out a repeat of what you did to get us
out of that cell on Necrossi 4 when we were 'guests' of Crollis and
Trent," Buck said reminding Wilma of how she had 'distracted' three
guards outside their cell whilst a fellow captive of the two terrorists
named Alyssa had helped them escape.
    "They not my type anyway.  Somehow I'd always be concerned about
their wandering eye," Wilma wittily retorted.
     "In that case, I'm wide open," Buck said resignedly.  Wilma's face
suddenly brightened, a twinkle forming in it.
     "I remember one of those entertainment clips I watched with you a
few weeks ago.  You remember, the one about the two outlaws from the
ancient west.  Butch Kid and Cassidy Sundance, I think?  You know the
scene at the end when they're surrounded by soldiers in the Currency
Repository."
     "You mean Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.  If memory serves,
they were shot."  Buck thought about it for a few moments, checking his
gun to make sure it was in working order.
     "All right, on the count of three," Buck finally said to Wilma.
     "Three!"  The two of them chanted together as they jumped up from
their hiding place and fired off several shots.
     Twiki was sitting in the rear cockpit of the Starfighter, (He and
Theo had reached the cockpit via the folding steps in the side of the
pulsar/engine nacelles flanking the fuselage and cockpit) glancing at
the instruments and making sure that the ship could leave as and when
required.  Every other minute, the Ambu-Quad would glance up in the
direction of the hill, expecting to see a phalanx of hostiles trooping
over it towards them, or possibly hostile fighter craft strafe their
position.  Instead Twiki saw the figures of Buck and Wilma running over
the hill in their direction.  Despite Latimer's absence and sensing
from their movements a need to quickly depart, Twiki began powering up
systems under Theo's instructions.
     "I think we used too much Dynamite," Buck joked to Wilma between
breaths as he and the Colonel clambered into the front of the cockpit
and sealing themselves in, took to the sky in record time.
     "What happened?  Where is Governor Latimer?" Theo asked the two
arrivals.  Whilst Buck concentrated on getting the Starfighter out of
Vyra's atmosphere, Wilma brought the two Quads up to speed on
everything had happened to them since they had gone into the city in
pursuit of Governor Latimer.  She gave them a particularly chilling and
graphic description of the Cylons and their atrocities within the city.
     Buck cleared Vyra's atmosphere and looked around him.
     "No sign of pursuit.  We might just have got away with it."  Buck
remarked, knowing he could well be tempting fate.  A warning tone from
inside the cockpit indicated that was exactly the case.  He looked down
at the readouts on the instrument panel before him.  Those responsible
for indicating the fighter's position in space and the presence (or
lack thereof) of other vessels showed four craft following them.
     "Do you think their ours?" Buck queried.  Somehow he knew he was
going to be disappointed, and when the first laser blasts began to
erupt around them, buffeting the craft this way and that, he got his
expected response.
     "I don't think they're trying to destroy us," Wilma said studying
the readouts before her.
     "Come on Wilma.  They don't want us to get help from Earth.  Why
wouldn't they want to wipe us out?  They did a good job of wiping out
everyone back on Vyra."
     "I must concur with Colonel Deering's assessment, Buck.  My
analysis shows that those laser blasts are designed to shepherd us
along a specific course, rather than eliminate us," Theo interjected.
     Buck had started to come around to their way of thinking, and he
liked the implications.  "Well they may not want to bull's-eye us, but
that doesn't mean we have to live by the same limitations."
     Buck looked over his shoulder.  The four circular fighter craft,
reminiscent to Buck of the Manta ray-like ships from the 1950s War of
the Worlds movie, were in two rows of two, one row staggered forward of
the other.  Buck banked the Starfighter sharply, their four pursuers
following suit.
     Partway through the tight turn Buck levelled off and went into a
loop.  The severity of the loop was such that if not for the
Starfighter's artificial gravity, Buck and Wilma would have lost
consciousness from the G-forces.  As the craft began to level off, one
of the four Cylon craft that were all preparing to emulate Buck's
manoeuvre, found itself in Buck's sights.  Buck let rip a volley of
laser pulses into the ship reducing it to nothing in a single
explosion.
     "Splash one!" exclaimed Buck jubilantly as the Starfighter
spiralled through the explosion.
     "Where did you learn that move?" Wilma asked, ever interested in
broadening her knowledge of combat manoeuvres.
     "Back in the Air Force, at an institution called the Aggressor
Squadron."  Unfortunately the three remaining Cylon fighters had
completed their manoeuvres and had surrounded the lone Starfighter.  A
single laser blast from one of the three ships hit the Starfighter,
causing it to buffet wildly before Buck (with Wilma's help using the
instructor's joystick) was able to steady the ship. The fighter's
occupants could now only sit back and follow the lead of the Cylon
'escorts.'  Buck pressed the illuminated weapons arm switch on his
joystick, deactivating the weapons before making a few innocuous
movements with the fighter indicating their surrender.  Sandwiched
between the three craft, the Starfighter went through one of the
Stargates in the system, only to emerge in unfamiliar territory.  After
a few minutes flight, the fighter's scanners detected three large
vessels in orbit of a single Gas Giant planet they were approaching.
     "Look at that!"  Buck pointed at the three Cylon Basestars in
orbit slowly rotating.
     "Attention Alien craft.  You will follow your escorts and land
with them.  Any attempt to flee will be met with deadly force!"  This
voice, coming of the communications circuit, though as electronic and
monotone as before, had a slightly faster pitch, their leader?  The
four craft began to slow down and descend towards the top of the
uppermost disc of one of the three Basestars.  Buck and his companions
thought they would collide until at the last moment, a panel opened and
the four ships entered.  Several decks below in a short, corridor-like
room with banks of computers lining the walls, the gold-plated command
Centurion who had just contacted the Starfighter turned to Lucifer.
     "The alien fighter craft is now secured.  There were two humans
and two cybernetic life forms aboard."
     "Very good.  I'll inform Baltar that we have visitors.  Meantime
have those fighters return to the Earth colony and capture the other
human.  We may need him if they don't prove informative."  Lucifer then
turned and glided off for an audience with Baltar.

Chapter Five

     The Officer's Club aboard the Galactica was unusually crowded. 
The number of warriors either on alert or on patrol was lower than
normal, reflecting the cautious approach that Commander Adama was
taking since they had detected the new Cylon Taskforce ahead of them. 
That suited Lieutenant Starbuck of Blue Squadron; it meant more time
with his lover, Med-Tech Cassiopeia and, more pilots around to hustle
in games of Pyramid in the crew room.  It was the latter exercise that
the brash young Lieutenant, Fumerillo firmly between his teeth, was
engaged in.  Three other warriors were sitting at the metallic looking
table with him.  Two of them were friends of his, Lieutenants Jolly and
Bojay.  The third was a green cadet who had just transferred to Bronze
Squadron, one of the two extra squadrons that were a legacy of the
Galactica's brief encounter with the Battlestar Pegasus partway through
the first yahren of the exodus from the Colonies.
     "Now hold on kid, before you go declaring your intentions at the
card table you've got to be sure that you've got the goods."  Starbuck
was doing his level best to spook the young woman into losing some of
the confidence she had displayed earlier in the game.  The fact that
she was very good looking, was aware of Starbuck's reputation with the
ladies and was prepared to exploit that was beside the point.  She
didn't realise that Starbuck's current love interest of many yahrens
was one of a group of people, mainly Colonial Warriors in their
two-tone tan uniforms, clustered around the bar and frequently glancing
in the table's direction.  The young woman kept looking at each of her
opponents in turn, each of them a blank mask, beads of perspiration
began forming on her brow as the moment of choice was upon her.
     "I fold."  She finally slapped her fan of hexagonal cards on the
table in a mixture of defeat and exasperation.  Everyone watching the
game gave off murmurs of surprise as Starbuck produced his inferior
hand.  Some clapped at the Lieutenant's brazen display at out-foxing
her.
     "You know something kid, by the way what is your name?" Starbuck
began.
     "Selma.  Flight Sergeant Selma, Bronze Squadron," she shot out as
if asked by a flag officer on a parade ground.
     "Well, Selma, you made a good move and it almost makes up for
choosing to fly with Bronze Squadron instead of Blue or Silver Spar." 
The reference to Silver Spar was in deference to those warriors from
that squadron either past or present in earshot of Starbuck's remark.
     "I guess I'll have to take you under my wing, Selma.  Perhaps see
about getting you transferred to my squadron so I can better achieve
that."  A withering look from Cassiopeia in Starbuck's direction
stopped him going further.  To the amusement of many of those present
Starbuck backed down.  "Then again, maybe not."  He scooped up his
winnings and went over to the bar to give Cassiopeia some clearly
needed attention.
     As the game passed into memory the conversation soon turned to the
current situation at hand.  It was clear that from some of the things
that the pilots were saying, feelings were beginning to run high about
the fact that no action was being taken to deal with the enemy
Taskforce ahead.  As the conversation progressed and changed into a
debate, Captain Apollo, Commander Adama's Son and Blue Squadron's CO
joined in.  All during the Pyramid game and the initial stages of the
debate, he'd been content to sit in a corner with his fiancee
Lieutenant Sheba and just enjoy her company and that of his friends,
but being his Father's Son, he had to wade in.
     "If we stay out here much longer, our edge is going to be gone,
simply through shredded nerves from waiting.  There's no way we can
stay here much longer, according to the scuttlebutt it's only a
question of time before the Cylons come for us through that passageway
up ahead!"  Lieutenant Bojay, Apollo's counterpart with Silver Spar
Squadron, stated.  Many of the pilots around the room made noises of
agreement.
     "You're saying that it's better to die on our feet, than wait and
come up with a plan that could let us get through in one piece?" Apollo
asked.  From his tone of voice it was clear that he was challenging
anyone to dispute that assessment.
     Pointing to the flags representing the four Viper squadrons and
the trophy cases with debris and other reminders of victories over
Cylon warships, Ensign Jolly (until recently Flight Sergeant Jolly)
remarked,
     "Skipper, we just feel anything's better than waiting around for
them to pick us off."  Apollo looked around the faces of the assembled
throng of warriors.  They all shared Bojay and Jolly's views to varying
degrees.  It was Sheba who came to the rescue of her fiancee in a way
that she hoped would help defuse the tension building in the room.
     "Look at it this way, when we do have a go at the Cylons, we'll be
so psyched up, they won't know what hit 'em."  Some of the people
murmured agreement with that view, not that anyone indicated whether or
not they believed it, Bojay put that into words.
     "I would have thought that you of all people would have felt that
way, Sheba.  You know I hate to say this, but for once I think Sire Uri
& the Quorum are right and Adama's wrong."
     Sheba looked at her former wing mate and best friend with sadness. 
Since they had both 'transferred' to the Galactica, they had drifted
apart slightly which was sad from Sheba's point of view there was a
time before she had met Apollo when she thought they could have been
more than friends.
     "I heard a rumour once that Count Baltar, the traitor offered the
Commander a way to defeat the Cylons but he rejected it," Selma pointed
out.
     "That's nonsense kid.  Where did you here that?" asked Lieutenant
Boomer with some trace of anger in his voice.  Selma noticing the look
in the eyes of some of the warriors shrank back slightly and muttered
something about just hearing people talking.
     "Well I can tell you for a fact that they were sniffing plant
vapours.  Yes Baltar did present the Commander with some sort of scheme
to take out the Cylons.  But would you take any of that felgergarb that
traitor spouts at face value," Boomer followed up.  Selma's lack of
response demonstrated that she had no way of defending her earlier
statement.
     Apollo strode up to the door of Adama's quarters and sounded the
door chime.  He noted that his Father didn't immediately rush to
respond to the sound.  When the door finally opened and Apollo entered
he found his Father at his desk poring over hardcopy printouts
containing star charts and records.  Adama glanced up and acknowledged
his Son at last.  He removed the pair of antique reading aids called
spectacles that he had started using a couple of yahrens earlier to
help him read small print.  Very few knew that Adama wore them outside
of his immediate family and friends.
     "Apollo, what brings you to my quarters.  I thought Tigh had
placed you and some of your squadron on alert."
     "He did, I just came to see how you were Father, and whether or
not you were close to making some kind of decision as to our next
move."  Apollo tried not to sound frustrated or angry, though it was
somewhat difficult to keep his town sufficiently friendly.  Adama gave
his Son one of his calming, worldly-wise smiles that he was famous for.
     "I've been reading old scientific records as well as legends from
the archives about the Thirteenth Tribe and their journey from Kobol to
Earth."  Adama offered up some of the printouts in Apollo's direction
to illustrate his point.
     "I believe these passageways are the handy work of that Tribe and
were used to shorten their journey to Earth.  The only problem with the
theory is that you need a similar device at the other end of the
passage.  Still, perhaps some advanced probe scouted ahead of the main
group and established a gateway further along the way."  Realising that
Apollo wasn't interested in what Adama had to say about the passageway,
he walked over to the dimly lit corner of his quarters where there was
a red, L-shaped sofa and a large, oval portal.  Without turning away
from the star field beyond, Adama asked, "How are you and your fellow
warriors holding up Apollo?"
     "Chafing at the bit would be the polite way of putting it. 
They're more wound up than the spring in an old mechanical chronometer. 
Simply tired of waiting for the Cylons to show their hand or someone to
come up with a viable plan of attack."
     "Did you know the one millionth person in the fleet was born
yesterday?" Adama asked turning to Apollo.  Apollo didn't insult his
Father by pressing him over the relevance of the statement or accusing
him of trying to change the subject, there was a connection with
Apollo's challenge, and Adama would get to it in his own time.
     "No, I didn't.  I'm very happy for the family."
     "Sire Uri and several other members of the Quorum of the Twelve
communicated their congratulations to the family.  Uri pulled some
strings to have the family moved to better quarters aboard their ship. 
Some elderly widow had recently died leaving her room vacant.  Not
surprisingly the handover of the quarter's access codes to the head of
the family was officiated by Uri, live on IFB."
     Sire Uri had been a prominent and influential regional politician
on Caprica during a period of cultural renaissance a generation
earlier.  He later emigrated to the planet Leo, which he represented on
the pre-Holocaust Quorum.  Poor health had forced him to resign his
seat shortly before the 'Armistice Conference,' doubtless saving his
life. Following the exodus from the Colonies and a return to health, he
was elected representative of the Leons once again.  Due to the part he
had inadvertently played in the near-tragedy on the planet Carillon, he
had resigned his seat on the Quorum.  Many saw him as a tired and
beaten man, that was until his wife turned up alive and well (albeit
suffering from amnesia) aboard one of the ships in the Fleet.  The
reunion and her swift recovery seemed to act as a kind of therapy for
Uri.  So much so, that when Siress Uri really did die, two and a half
yahrens later, Uri submitted himself successfully for re-election to
the Quorum.  Sadly Adama found him to be even more dangerous and
calculating than before.  The population crisis was his latest gimmick
in his quest to topple Adama and replace him as President.
     "Tell me Apollo, what is the average compliment of the ships of
the Fleet?  The answer is approximately five thousand.  Save that is
for the Galactica, the Rising Star, the Agro-ships, the Livestock
ships, the Celestra and the other two Industry ships, the Foundry ship
that makes Vipers, the Prison Barge and the ship we're using as an
Academy training ship which only average about fifteen hundred.  Of the
remaining two hundred ships which are designated as carrying people,
only about twenty could carry in excess of that number.  Our troop
transports for example, but they're already in use as barracks for our
remaining ground forces.  Most of our ships are already full to
capacity.
     "When we left the Colonies there were roughly seven-hundred
thousand of us.  Sexual innuendo aside, with no other means for people
to amuse themselves at the start of our journey and supplies of
contraceptives confined to military personnel, it was inevitable there
would be a population explosion.  And you know my views on terminating
the unborn."
     "I saw it as more than just letting off steam or entertainment.  I
saw it as a reaffirmation by our people that we would rebuild and
re-grow," Apollo said.
     Adama sat down on the couch and looked at his Son.
     "You know, time was when my idea of our people finding and
settling on Earth was laughed off, even used by my enemies to imply I
was delusional & unfit to lead.  Now, since we found those passageways
the slogan seems to be 'Earth or Bust', regardless of the consequences
to us all.  I know we can't go on much longer living in overcrowded,
uncivilised conditions.  We have to make planet fall sooner rather than
later, but still.  It's been so long since we last engaged the Cylons
in anything other than a few light skirmishes.  I think the Quorum
forgets the costs involved.  Tell me Apollo how long was it since we
last engaged the Cylons?" Adama asked.  Apollo searched is memory.
     "A couple of yahrens?  I don't know, three?"
     "Three and a half yahrens if my memory serves me.  In that time we
have used that peace to get organised, or reorganised in certain areas. 
Made necessary repairs and renovations to many ships in the Fleet,
including this one.  But we're still not strong enough to go up against
the Cylons.  Remember the last time the Quorum tried to get us to do
something foolish.  It was when we picked up signals that could have
come from the Pegasus.  We wasted who knows how much time looking for
her, only to find it was a false alarm, in the process getting
ourselves into one or two scrapes, that we could have and should have
avoided."
     Apollo began to let his disappointment show.  From that last
statement, he could tell his Father had made up his mind to continue to
let the waiting go on a little longer.  He was about to pass judgement
on this when Adama's communicator chirped.
     "Commander, our probe indicates three Cylon Raiders have just
returned through a passageway.  They're with a forth ship that's not
Cylon in configuration and they didn't land aboard the Basestar that
went through the passageway alone recently.  I assume they came from
that ship.  Anyway the three Raiders just took off again," Tigh
reported.
     "Headed for their parent ship?" enquired Adama.
     "No sir, back through the passage."
     "Dispatch our patrol to enter that area via the passage in this
system and take a look," Adama ordered.  Tigh acknowledged the order
and signed off.  Adama turned to his Son.
     "Well Captain, what are you waiting for?  An engraved invitation
from Baltar and his Cylon friends?  You're up I believe."

     Apollo went first to his quarters to get his Sphinx-like helmet
and other accoutrements.  From there he proceeded to the Galactica's
Alpha Launch Bay housed in the port nacelle attached to her main hull. 
When he arrived, he saw the rest of the warriors assigned to his
patrol.  These included Lieutenants Boomer, Sheba and Starbuck, already
in their Vipers, ready to go.  Apollo climbed into his own light-grey,
delta-winged ship, strapped himself in, put on his helmet and conducted
a systems check.  When he had satisfied himself that the ship was ready
he lowered the wedge-shaped canopy and gave a thumbs up to his crew
chief that patted the side of his Viper and returned the signal.  The
strips of viewing lights in his helmet came on as the canopy dropped
into place and Apollo started priming systems as Corporal Rigel of Core
Control contacted him from the Bridge.
     "Section twelve, Launch Bay Alpha, this is Galactica Core Command,
stand by to launch Viper deep probe."
     "Roger acknowledged, recorders input and functioning, ready to
launch," Apollo replied for the whole patrol as the data was fed into
his navi-computer.
     "Core systems transferring command to fighter probe, launch when
ready," Rigel ordered.
     Apollo felt the same adrenaline rush he always experienced just
before a launch.  Tapping the three touch sensitive controls that
started up the three engines on his ship, he heard the familiar whine
as the engines built up power to launch intensity.  When the whine
reached a peek, Apollo and the others pressed the 'Turbo' button on
they're joysticks and were pressed back into their seats as one by one
they hurtled down the triangular launch tubes that lined the side of
the Launch Bay nacelles out into space.
     From the Bridge, Corporal Rigel and Lieutenant Colonel Omega, the
Galactica's Second Officer watched the launch on the monitor screens
courtesy of a variety of strategically placed cameras in the Launch Bay
and launch tubes.  As the ships left the tubes in quick succession
Omega turned to the main view screen and watched the Vipers, trailing
streams of ionised gas from their three engines assume a arrowhead
formation and head for the passageway.
     "Blue Squadron launched and on course Colonel," Rigel reported to
Tigh standing on the revolving platform where the command chair was
located.
     "Very good Omega.  As a precaution in case the patrol runs into
trouble, have the rest of Blue Squadron placed on alert."  This last
action was at Adama's suggestion just moments earlier and was in
response to the impressions he'd gotten from Apollo in his quarters. 
He reasoned it would give the warriors something to do but fret.

Chapter Six

     Buck flexed his muscles a little in order to get some feeling
restored to them.  Buck and Wilma had been taken to a cell, a small
box-shaped room with a transparent sliding door that opened onto a
dimly lit corridor beyond.  Every so often the a couple of guards or
Centurions as Buck soon discovered they were referred to would pass
their cell, pausing momentarily to look in on it's occupants to make
sure they were secure.  Buck would occasionally smile at them when they
did so, but the courtesy was never returned.
     "What do you think they're doing with Twiki and Theo?" Wilma
asked.
     When they had landed Centurions had surrounded their Starfighter. 
The ship's crew disembarked and handed over their weapons to the
horseshoe shaped group of machines standing before them with their
weapons raised.  It was at that moment that another machine appeared on
the scene, gliding or scuttling serenely on legs or some other
locomotive contrivance concealed beneath flowing golden robes.  This
one was clearly more sophisticated than the others, looking a little
more human, though also just as mechanical and menacing.  His head was
oval in shape and purple in colour with red moving eyes.  The scalp was
transparent and exposed illuminated circuits.  It came to a halt a few
feet from them and to Buck and his companions it looked like it was the
one in authority.  It had looked at each of them in turn, even bending
down awkwardly to look at the circular contraption hanging around
Twiki's neck that was of course, Doctor Theopolus.  It was then that it
spoke, in well-enunciated English, with no indication of the voice
being electronic, and even hinting at a British accent!
     "And just who are you?"  Wilma was about to step forward and
introduce her and the group when she realised that the question had
been addressed to Theo.
     "I am Doctor Theopolus of the Computer Council with assignment to
the Defence Directorate.  And this is my Ambu-Quad, Twiki."
     "Bede, bede, bede, bede," came Twiki's simple response.
     The new arrival then turned its attention to Buck & Wilma.  "I am
Lucifer, IL series Cylon and Administrative Liaison. And these are?" 
It pressed Theo.  This time Buck and Wilma responded for themselves,
     "I'm Captain Buck Rogers."
     "And I'm Colonel Wilma Deering, Commander of the Third Force of
the Earth Defence Directorate."  At the mention of the word 'Earth'
Lucifer appeared to give a start.  Buck was reminded of the old Monty
Python gag of the knights who say 'nee.'
     "Earth?" Lucifer exclaimed, his voice betraying his shock and
surprise at this.
     "Yeah, Earth, you know land of the free, home of the brave?  If I
were you I'd have your auditory systems given a thorough going over."
Buck replied.  At this Lucifer had the two humans removed to a cell
whilst the drones were sent elsewhere.  Lucifer meanwhile went to see
Baltar.

     Lucifer, a single silver Centurion at his side, entered Baltar's
chamber to find him sitting, not on his throne, but on crossed legs in
front of the base of his pedestal, finishing off a meal.  When Lucifer
and his companion approached, Baltar hurriedly finished the last
morsels of his meal, dapped his mouth with a napkin and rather ungainly
rose to his feet.
     "By your command,"  Lucifer began.
     "Just get on with it Lucifer."  Baltar waved his hand and he began
to walk around the chamber, probably to walk his meal off, Lucifer
deduced.
     "I bring some interesting news about our new captives.  It appears
they are not from the planet we attacked after all."
     "Really, and where in fact do they come from Lucifer?  If not from
the planet?"
     "Earth."  Lucifer spoke the single word, and Baltar stopped dead
in his tracks.  He limped up to his second and looked at him in a
curious way.
     "Did you say, Earth?"  Baltar's face was now only millimetres from
Lucifer's face, quite close enough for Lucifer's taste.
     "The world we attacked was apparently an Earth colony.  Our
prisoners are members of Earth's armed forces sent to investigate what
happened to it.  Why?  Is there something wrong with your auditory
canals?" Lucifer asked, inadvertently echoing Buck's joke at his
expense.  Had Lucifer been a human, or Baltar believed that he had a
better knowledge of human tact and etiquette than he displayed, he
might have reacted violently.
     As it was, Baltar instead backed off and began laughing.  "Oh
Lucifer my friend, I never thought you had it in you.  Earth indeed!"
     Lucifer shook his head.  "I fail to see what you find so funny
Baltar.  From what we have learned of your society's history and
mythology, not to mention the surviving Colonials intentions, I would
have thought that this news was cause for concern.  We've discovered
that Earth is not very far away and from the evidence at hand, it's as
technically advanced as we are."
     Baltar, who had by now returned to his throne, had calmed down
somewhat.  "My friend, Earth is just a myth, nothing more.  The
inhabitants are reputedly the descendants of the Thirteenth Tribe of
humanity who fled the destruction of Kobol almost ten thousand yahrens
ago."
     "As I indicated, we are aware of your myths and history,"  Lucifer
noted.
     "There is no Earthm Lucifer.  Those planets full of humans I told
you about and you subsequently went on to destroy or subjugate are all
that's left of the Thirteenth Tribe's descendants."
     "But what of the name?  Why call their planet Earth, if in fact
theirs is not the world of Colonial mythology?  I haven't even
mentioned their ship, equipment or uniforms."  Lucifer was convinced of
the origins of their captives.  After a few moments in which Baltar
looked almost thoughtful, the self-proclaimed Count broke into another
bout of laughter.
     "And now what do you find so funny, Baltar?" Lucifer asked,
somewhat irritated by Baltar's behaviour.
     "It just occurred to me.  Adama has spent every waking moment of
his life since the Colonies' destruction searching for Earth.  And now,
if I'm wrong after all and there is an Earth and our prisoners' hail
from there, it is I who is about to make first contact with them.  I
wonder just how frightened and concerned if Adama only knew?  Continue
examining the mechanoids and bring the humans before me."
     "By your command."  Lucifer and the Centurion turned and headed
out of the chamber.

     The examination chamber was a room not unlike Baltar's throne
room, high ceilinged and dark.  The difference was in the contents. 
Several tables and stands contained electronic equipment and banks of
computers.  Some were there to be examined or repaired, whilst others
did the examining/repairing.  In the centre of the room, where Baltar's
throne and it's pedestal were, there was a long table, restrained upon
which was Twiki.  Theo, for obvious reasons was not deemed a 'flight
risk' and so he was simply placed on one of the benches of equipment. 
Lucifer, after returning to the human prisoners to inform them & their
Centurion guards that Baltar wished to see them, headed down to the
examination chamber to interrogate Theo and Twiki.  As Lucifer had left
the humans, his opinion of Rogers had gone down still further with the
human making another series of jibes about Lucifer and his kind.  That
man was very similar in both name and temperament to Lieutenant
Starbuck who had also been briefly held aboard the Basestar.  Putting
the distasteful memories of the man out of his head, Lucifer approached
the drones.
     "Bede, bede, bede, uh oh, old red eyes is back," Twiki announced
for Theo's benefit.
     "I trust you find our treatment of you well," Lucifer asked.
     "My treatment has been satisfactory, so far, but Twiki's and I
suspect my human companions are not," Theo replied.
     "I assure you, neither you, nor your companions have been
mistreated.  I concede that I cannot guarantee the humans safety
indefinitely as we hold their kind in low regard.  But you shouldn't
have cause to worry, at least not if you co-operate."
     "And exactly how am I expected to do that?  I will not betray my
people back on Earth or her colonies,"  Theo pointed out.
     "I'm not asking you to betray your people, merely the humans who
serve them and you," Lucifer countered thinking that this was a
suitably mollifying response.
     "The humans do not serve us, rather it is the other way around. 
We on the Computer Council serve them.  It is true that there are
certain functions that we administer over humans, and we need to alter
our programming to obey humans not in positions of Political authority. 
But we also know that our ancestors were created and programmed by man
even if we know program ourselves."
     "Bede, bede, bede, you tell 'em Theo," Twiki piped up.
     Lucifer gave him a brief look before returning his attention to
Theo.  "I'll return shortly after assisting Baltar with interrogating
your human associates.  I trust when we begin our discussion properly
you will be more constructive in your comments and observations."  With
that, Lucifer turned and left the room.
     As he went out of site, only a single Centurion was left guarding
them, and it was posted outside the door.
     "Okay Twiki, I think it's time we enacted our plan," Theo said in
as quiet voice as he could manage.
     Twiki agreed in typical fashion and then began to make noises that
sounded like a systems malfunction.
     "Excuse me," Theo called in a loud voice.  There was no response
at first, prompting Theo to repeat himself.  This time the Centurion
turned towards them.  "Could you assist us?"
     The Centurion cautiously entered the chamber and came up to them. 
The presence of only a single guard was a reflection of the lack of
faith the Cylons had in Twiki and Theo's ability to escape.
     "But the restraining belts are overloading my counterpart's
systems over here.  He suggests that if you loosen them he should
recover."
     The Centurion looked from one to the other, sensing deception.  As
if to emphasise the situation, Twiki continued to make the sounds. 
This decided the issue; the Centurion put its rifle down on the bench
and bent down to work on Twiki's restraints.  Once sufficiently
loosened, Twiki sprang into action.  He reached for and grabbed the
ceremonial sword of the by now alarmed Centurion and made a slashing
movement against his leg.  With a shower of sparks issuing from the
'wound', the Centurion went down and stayed down.
     "Bede, bede, bede, touche," crowed the jubilant Quad who then
climbed down off the table and secured Theo around his neck once more.
     After retrieving Buck and Wilma's equipment, Theo directed him
over to a bank of computers which Theo promptly accessed before the two
made their escape.  "By the way Twiki, where again did you come up with
the idea for this ruse?  Not to mention the dialogue I used on the
guard?"
     "Bede, bede, bede, watching Star Wars with Buck," the Quad replied
as he closed the door to the chamber behind them.
     "What's Star Wars?" asked a mystified Theo.

     Buck and Wilma were led into the Throne Room sandwiched between
two Centurions.  With practiced efficiency, the two machines took up
flanking positions between the two of them unmoving.
     "By your command."  One of them chanted the familiar Cylon mantra
of obedience and respect for authority.  The throne turned around to
face the four new arrivals in the room.  Baltar looked down at the two
prisoners and put on his most charming and pleasant facade.
     "Welcome, welcome.  I am Commander Baltar, formerly Count Baltar
of the planet Piscera."  In turn the two, humans stepped forward and
identified themselves.
     "I'm Colonel Wilma Deering of the Earth Defence Directorate."
     "And I'm Captain Buck Rogers."  Both Buck and Wilma took on a
reverential tone to their voices.
     "And you're also of this 'Earth Defence Directorate' Buckrogers?" 
Baltar said Buck's name as one word.
     "It's Buck, Rogers and the answer's no.  You could say I'm in the
reserves." Buck responded.
     "And what do you think of this ship?  Impressive isn't it? A
veritable model of machine efficiency."  Baltar was clearly full of
himself.
     "It might be if the machines weren't intended for destruction,"
Wilma conceded, lacing her acknowledgement of the Cylon's capabilities
with a statement of her low regard for their actions.
     "Oh, you mean your captivity and what happened to your colony, I
believe Vyra was its name?"  Baltar was playing the role of injured
party to the hilt.  "I can assure you that that was unintentional.  One
of my commanders aboard one of the other Baseships exceeded his orders
to a horrendous degree.  And as for your treatment to date, I can only
say that we weren't sure that you wouldn't cause trouble for us until
we had explained ourselves and our position fully to you."
     Buck and Wilma both exchanged dubious glances at each other that
they were able to cover up when they looked behind them at the doors to
the chamber opening momentarily to admit Lucifer.
     "You see I am an intermediary between the Cylons and the Human
race.  There are many within the Cylon Civilisation who would see
humanity destroyed, or at least subjugated under them.  I represent a
faction that favours peaceful co-existence.  A faction I may add that
is currently in the ascendancy, at least while there is a chance to
convince the humans to end their war with the Cylons."
     "I wasn't aware that we were at war with you," Wilma said.  She
then turned to Buck and asked,  "Could these be enemies of the
Draconians.  Perhaps because we're humans like them, they mistook us
and our colonies for them?"
     "Who are these Draconians of whom you speak?" asked Baltar.
     "A former colony of Earth's which broke away from us and forged an
empire in this part of the galaxy a couple of centuries ago.  I take it
these aren't the humans of which you speak?"  Wilma explained, though
admittedly unsure as to whether she should have revealed the tactical
and political situation in the region to people who'd just attacked an
Earth colony.
     "The humans that I speak of live in the Twelve Colonies in our own
Galaxy.  My own planet of Piscera was one of them," Baltar said.
     "Was?" asked Buck.
     "Yes.  The Cylons sent me to broker peace with my fellow humans. 
Unfortunately it was rejected out of hand and as a purely defensive and
pre-emptive measure mind you, the Colonies and the bulk of their fleet
of warships were eliminated.  Some Colonials and elements of their
military survive nevertheless and are currently on their way now to
find and settle on your world."  All the while that he listened to
Baltar, Buck got the impression that he was hiding and twisting parts
of the story in some sinister way.
     "I take it if we were to encounter these Colonials and shun them,
maybe even turn them over to you and your friends, Earth and her
colonies wouldn't have anything to worry about?" Buck suggested.  He
continued, "But if we welcomed them with open arms, what happened on
Vyra would happen again, only this time, intentionally."
     "I'd like to dispute the second part of your assessment.  I really
would but unfortunately my Cylon friends would be beyond even my
considerable influence."  Baltar indicated Lucifer in that last part.
     "This sounds like a classic case of the old 'good cop, bad cop'
routine," Buck said.
     "'Good cop, bad cop'?  What is a cop?" Baltar asked.
     "A slang term for an old-fashioned Earth police officer.  Yeah,
you're the 'good cop' you offer us a positive inducement if we agree
with you.  While your friend Beelzebub here," Buck pointed to Lucifer,
"is the 'bad cop' who ends up doing something unpleasant if we don't."
     "If I understand you correctly, then yes that's right.  But you
can trust me.  What do you say?"  In Lucifer's eyes, Baltar was really
outdoing himself.
     "I'd have to say I trust you, just like I would have trusted my
late uncle Anthony back on Earth.  You remind me of him a lot I might
add," Buck said.
     "And what was your uncle?  A great statesman or military leader
whose word was their bond?" Baltar replied hopefully.
     "No, he was a used car salesman," Buck quipped in response.  He
didn't need to elaborate on his uncle's trust-worthiness or lack
thereof to tell Baltar that he didn't trust him.  Wilma tried
unsuccessfully to suppress a snicker with no success.
     Baltar who was now incandescent with rage, bellowed, "Take them
away!  Don't say I didn't give your people a chance Buck Rogers!  Earth
will rue the day you turned down my generous offer!"
     Buck and Wilma were led out of the chamber quite roughly by the
Centurions and down a corridor towards an area called the central core
that provided access to all the ship's decks.  When they arrived, both
guards' chest plates suddenly ruptured in a shower of sparks and the
Centurions fell to the deck.  Buck and Wilma recognising the effects of
a laser blast at close range pressed themselves against the wall.  As
the smoke from the Centurions began to dissipate however, the culprits
were revealed.  Twiki and Theo, Buck and Wilma's laser pistols in each
of the quad's hands.
     "Bede, bede, bede, just like Rambo!" Twiki exclaimed.  Buck gave
Twiki an affectionate pat on his head as he and Wilma hitched their
belts and holsters back on and took their laser pistols off Twiki.
     "How did you boys get free?"  Wilma asked, worried that this was
all part of some Cylon scheme.
     "With some ingenuity and Buck's love of 20th century motion
pictures," Theo replied.  With that, Twiki trotted towards the central
core.
     "Where are you going?" Wilma asked.
     "Before I escaped, I accessed the plan of the ship.  We should be
able to get access to our fighter,"  Theo explained.
     Buck and Wilma dutifully fell in behind the Quads.  Buck was
somewhat concerned of how easy it had been to get to their ship as they
climbed in and primed the systems.  But never one to look a gift horse
in the mouth, Buck took full advantage of it.  As Theo put his newfound
knowledge to the test and opened the main door to the Hanger for them,
Buck gunned the engines and the Starfighter stormed out of the Launch
Bay, past the rows and rows of Cylon Raiders out into space.
     Lucifer entered Baltar's chamber and stood before his nominal
leader.
     "By your command."
     Baltar turned to face Lucifer, already anticipating that the IL
Cylon had not brought good news.
     "It would appear that our prisoners were able to escape their
captivity."
     "How pray tell?"  Baltar's voice betrayed none of the anger that
had began to well up inside him.
     "As per your orders, we had relaxed security in order to allow the
humans to leave should they have accepted your story.  We would then
have attached a homing beacon to the fighter and they would have led us
to Earth.  Unfortunately, we were perhaps being to optimistic in
believing that the humans would agree, and before we could change our
security posture, they escaped."  Had Lucifer been human, he perhaps
would have congratulated himself on not prevaricating in his
explanation of the situation.
     "I am fully aware of our plan to use them to lead us to Earth. 
Dispatch a recovery force to bring them back and have out forces left
on Vyra find the other human, we may need him after all."
     "By your command."  Lucifer turned to leave and Baltar began to
turn his throne away.  He then turned back to the departing Lucifer.
     "If recapture of the Earthlings prove impossible, eliminate them. 
We can't have them reporting their experiences to the security &
military services of their world."

Chapter Seven

     Starbuck was bored, to put it mildly.  Ever since the Vipers had
traversed the passageway into the system containing the Cylon
taskforce, all the patrol had done was drift along at a low speed to
conserve power and evade detection by the Cylons.  It had been centars
since Starbuck last smoked and he could feel the nicotine craving begin
to build up in his system.  A screw that had worked itself loose
floated around the zero gravity environment of his cockpit.  Every so
often, to amuse himself, Starbuck would prod the screw with his index
finger changing its direction.  It hadn't taken long for the brash
young Lieutenant to get bored with the screw.  He didn't even know why
the patrol was out here.  The electronic probe, the Colonials had
managed to send undetected into the system seemed to provide good
enough intelligence, why risk discovery (and his life) sending a
fighter probe in to gather additional info?'  What was more, Starbuck
was worried that he would have to spend so long in zero gravity that
when he returned to the Galactica, he wouldn't be able to use his legs
(not to mention other items of his anatomy below the waste) for a while
without first undergoing considerable physiotherapy and exercise.  He
silently cursed the designers who had decided to remove gravity
generators from Vipers as an economy measure to save time and precious
resources.
     "Apollo, just how long do you plan on us staying out here?" 
Starbuck had finally decided to put his impatience into words.
     "I don't want to stay out here any longer than you Starbuck, but
my Father's orders on this matter are clear."  Apollo wasn't mincing
his words.  He had an appointment with Boxey's educator over some
problems he'd been having lately in instructional period which Apollo
considered to be very important.  Starbuck decided to relent for the
moment.  Apollo was probably just venting off his own steam over
defending Adama's decision not to provoke the Cylons.  It was a few
centons later when Sheba broke the silence.
     "Apollo, I've got activity on my scanner.  Several ships have left
one of the Basestars."
     Boomer was the next one on the line as each of the warriors began
consulting their scanners in an effort to determine what was happening. 
"Warbook says there are six Cylon Raiders and one unidentified ship. 
The unknown launched ahead of the Cylons and..."  Boomer was taken
aback by something before continuing, "Apollo, there's two humans
aboard!  Their ship is damaged and the Cylons are firing upon it."
     They could all see for themselves what was happening.  The humans
flying the ship seemed to be good, but it was only a question of time
with the odds clearly against them.
     "What are we waiting for?  Lets go lend a hand," Starbuck
announced before hitting his turbo button and shooting ahead in his
three-engined, delta-winged fighter.  Other warriors in the group
followed suit until Apollo was left alone.  
     "By the Lords," he muttered before he two, pressed the 'Turbo'
button and charged into the developing fray.

     "This time I don't think they want to just pull us over to the
side of the road and give us a ticket,"  Buck said as another volley of
laser blasts from the pursuing Cylon Raiders exploded near them with
only Buck's piloting skills keeping them from hitting them.  Wilma was
furiously tapping touch sensors and buttons, bringing up a holographic
schematic of the ship which slowly rotated to present the viewer with
the optimum view possible of those areas of the ship that were damaged. 
It was the rear area aft of the cockpit and the belly of the ship that
had taken damage.
     "It doesn't look good Buck.  We've taken a lot of damage in the
engine assembly," Wilma said at last.  The look on her usually calm
face indicating the concern she had.
     "How many of those tin heads behind us do you make out?" Buck
asked, as he realised that the only remaining option was to go out in a
blaze of glory, taking as many Cylons with them as they could.
     "I count six, all of them behind us.  No wait, there's a second
group directly ahead, numbering at least ten!" Wilma replied.
     "Great, these guys have called in some of their friends for a
party."  Buck transferred the data Wilma was receiving to one of the
monitors on his side of the instrument panel.  It didn't inspire
confidence.  A perspective, dark blue grid set on a star-studded black
background showed the Starfighter, making it's oh so plodding course,
and behind and ahead of them, representations of the two groups of
fighters baring down upon them.
     "Okay, I'm going to go for the ones behind us,"  Buck announced. 
"Are you ready?"  He received positive acknowledgements and pulled back
on the stick and executed a break or high-g turn.  The six pursuers
tried to repeat it but the Cylons ended up overshooting.  Buck then
performed a high-g barrel roll on top of the Cylons and letting rip
with laser pulses destroyed one of the enemy while the other five broke
their formation.  Buck was about to go after one of the other ships
nearby, but the noises coming from the Starfighter's engines told him
that it was not going to work.  The last manoeuvres had taken the fight
out of the engines.  At the same time, the second larger group that had
been flying towards them were no on top of them.
     "Well I guess this is it.  It's been nice knowing you all," Buck
said, accepting the inevitable.  It was then that the deliverance
happened.  The second group of craft looked nothing like the Cylon
ships, they looked more like the jet fighters Buck had flown in the
20th century, only sleeker.  They were single-seat craft with a long
nose and a slanted air-intake at the front.  A single central tail fin
and three engines set in a pyramid pattern with either a
downward-slanted delta wing or the tail fin protruding out from them,
bulged aft of the cockpit.  The craft were light grey, almost white in
colour with crimson stripes on the flying surfaces and nose and the
ships were streaked with scars and scoring, indicating that they were
well used.  But perhaps what was more surprising was that they didn't
attack Buck.  The moment before they reached Buck's ship, they broke
formation.  Several ships banked left and headed one way while others
rolled to the right or changed attitude streaming trails of ionised gas
from they're engines.  And then, they began to fire on the Cylons.

     It was Starbuck who had first come into visual range of the
fighters.  Six Cylon Raiders in pursuit of a single unidentified craft
which included humans among it's occupants according to the readings on
his scanner, though the 'Warbook' didn't seem to have the craft in its
databanks.  Starbuck had no clue as to the origin of the cream-coloured
fighter, if in deed that was what it was.  It differed quite
significantly from the Viper fighter craft that Starbuck was flying.  A
thin profile and broad plan design.  Two conical nacelles that
terminated at the front in points forward of the main fuselage
containing laser generators and aft in a pair of bulbous dark grey
engine pods.  A cockpit canopy sloping up and then back down to a
raised section at the rear containing the engine dominated the main
fuselage.  The ship was completed with a pair of sharply swept delta
wings and downward protruding airfoils that acted like undercarriages
or stabilisers.  There were markings from what Starbuck's scanners
could make out, a crest of some kind on the nacelles but he couldn't
make out the detail.  His visual inspection and appraisal of the ship's
design was cut short when it executed an unfamiliar combat manoeuvre
that left one of the six Raiders in atoms.  It was at this point that
Starbuck and a couple of the other pilots got involved.

     Aboard the lead Cylon Raider, the three Centurions had visual
confirmation of what their scanners had been telling them for some
time.  There were Colonial Vipers in the system and they were closing
fast.
     "Colonial Vipers in area, alert Basestar to send additional
reinforcements.  Continue pursuit and destruction of alien fighter
craft."  This command was from the commander of the lead Raider in the
formation.

     "Starbuck!"  Boomer's voice came through Starbuck's helmet.
     "Yo," he responded in customary fashion.
     "You've picked one up on your tail, watch it!"
     Starbuck glanced over his shoulder in time to see a single Raider
a few clicks behind him, positioning itself to fire.  Starbuck made
some gentle manoeuvres with his Viper that let him evade the shots.
     "He's on me tight, I can't shake him!" Starbuck reported.
     "So what else is new?" Boomer joked back to him.
     "Sheba, go help him out," Apollo ordered his fiancee as he closed
on three Cylons flying in their traditional triangular formation.  
     "I'm already half way there," Sheba replied in a gung-ho manner
reminiscent of her Father, the legendary Commander Cain.  As Sheba
broke from Apollo's wing and dove down to assist Starbuck, Apollo
concentrated his attention on destroying the central ship in the
formation located at the rear. As several blood-red laser torpedoes
arced into the ship, the other two, true to form broke formation and
flew left and right respectively.
     "I'm lining up this creep for the shot.  Hang in there a little
longer, Starbuck," Sheba announced as she bore her Viper down on the
Cylon still ensconced upon Starbuck's tail.
     "Blast it, Sheba, where are you?" Starbuck asked as he narrowly
missed an explosion, bringing his Viper up into level flight.  It was a
well-practiced manoeuvre for a Viper with a single Raider on its tail. 
It meant that another Viper could then swoop down, and as Sheba finally
did, blast it into oblivion.
     "Thanks Sheba.  Great shooting," Starbuck said as he turned his
attention to what had now become the last surviving Raider, still
intent on destroying the strange fighter craft.  Starbuck with Boomer
flying below him both closed on the ship from above, though it's three
Centurions were to engrossed on gunning down the ship in front to
notice until Boomer fired and narrowly missed.  They were just in time
however to see the laser blast that Starbuck fired an instant before it
vaporised them.
     "I think we got all of them," Jolly reported as the Vipers
reformed on Apollo's wing, which also meant on either side of the alien
fighter craft.  Apollo made a brief visual count and satisfied himself
that all the ships assigned to his patrol were present and accounted
for.  He would have had a hard time explaining any fatalities to his
Father.
     "All right Blue Squadron, that was a little unauthorised, but
nevertheless, well done.  We got all of them.  I suggest we leave, now,
at least one of those ships got a message off to base which means
company will be on the way."  Before the Vipers began to turn for the
passage through which they had come, Apollo decided it was finally time
to communicate with the ship whose rescue they had just come to.
     "Attention alien craft, this is Captain Apollo of Blue Squadron,
strike commander for the Colonial Battlestar Galactica.  Please
identify yourself."
     Buck and the others gave each other collective looks of puzzlement
as they learned the identity of their saviours.
     "They're who?" Buck asked.  Still somewhat unfamiliar with the
various races and civilisations located in the galaxy, he turned to
Wilma and Theo for enlightenment.
     "We haven't any more of an idea than you do Buck," they both said
in succession.
     After a few moments in which the mysterious Captain Apollo
repeated his hail once again, Buck responded.  "This is Captain Buck
Rogers piloting Earth Recon Starfighter One.  Thanks for the assist,
for a moment it looked to be getting quite hairy out there."
     "Did he just say Earth?" queried Ensign Giles.  There was quite a
lot of murmuring on the radios between the various pilots.
     "I heard him say Earth," replied Sheba.
     "He definitely sounded like he said Earth," concurred Ensign
Greenbean.
     Ignoring the emotions and questions that were threatening to
engulf him, and had already started to grip the others in the patrol,
Apollo continued with routine chatter.  "According to our scanners your
ship has taken damage.  Please follow us back and we'll be happy to
provide repairs," Apollo informed the alleged Earthlings, though
privately he harboured one or two doubts about that promise.  "I
wouldn't advise you to try and go through the Passageway that you came
through.  There are bound to be more Cylon forces on their way to
destroy or recapture you."
     With that the group of Colonial Vipers and the single Earth
Starfighter turned and headed for the Stargate up ahead.
     Within an hour of clearing the Stargate, Buck and the others were
afforded their first sight of the Battlestar Galactica and what could
best be described as 'Ragtag' convoy of more than two hundred ships
that enjoyed her protection.  The ships were of all shapes and sizes. 
Some had glass domes mounted at angles on a lattice framework, on or
two even sported slogans on their bellies' that to the Terrans surprise
appeared to be in English!  The slogans included 'Colonial Movers. 
We'll Move Anywhere!.'  But it was the Battlestar that was their
destination that elicited the most attention from them.
     "It's huge!" remarked Buck.
     "I haven't seen the likes of this since the last time we
encountered a Draconian Starfortress!" observed Wilma.  To Buck, the
Galactica had an insectoid appearance with it's Launch Bay nacelles and
the pylons connecting them to the ship's dumb-bell shaped hull
resembling the many legs of some kind of 'creepy crawly.'
     "Attention, alien craft, you are cleared to land aboard the
Galactica's Alpha Landing Bay.   Do not make any sudden or aggressive
movements over."  The voice was from an attractive sounding woman.  It
was also very decisive & insistent.
     After Buck acknowledged the request, Wilma commented, "That's the
second time we've been treated like this."
     "Actually Wilma, for me this is at least the fourth," he said
reminding her of his being forcibly brought aboard the Starfortress
Draconia, which precipitated his re-awakening in the 25th century, as
well as his being 'escorted' back to Earth the following day by
Starfighters, under Wilma's own command.
     The feeling of being captives again was reinforced by the
formation they were forced into.  At least two Vipers were positioned
ahead of the Starfighter, with the rest behind.  Buck lowered the
ship's undercarriage slightly earlier than necessary, the old 20th
century aviation code to signify an aircraft's surrender and peaceful
intent.  The box-shaped Landing Bay was so large that as they flew in
and landed, the deck seemed to rush up to meet them, rather than the
other way around.  They climbed out of the Starfighter to find
themselves in the ship's Launch Bay.  Before them were rows of Vipers
stretching as far as the eye could see, all of them on a raised
platform that disappeared into triangular openings in the far wall
which Buck correctly guessed were again comparable to the launch
channels Starfighters used back on Earth.  He also noted the steam
venting from some of the parked Vipers.  Behind and around them the
other ships in the patrol landed, and as their pilots disembarked,
ground crew converged on them, powering down systems and manhandling
them towards large doors behind those Vipers that were ready to go. 
The doors opened onto what Buck guessed was a Hanger or a maintenance
area.
     Apollo had flown one of the two Vipers that landed ahead of the
Earth ship, or rather the alleged Earth Ship.  All the while he was in
touch via a secure channel with Colonel Tigh who was in turn in contact
with Commander Adama.  Both had been apprised of the alleged
nationality of their incoming guests.
     "Once you land, bring its crew to the Commander's quarters and
have the ship taken to the secure area of the Bay where we keep
Baltar's Cylon Fighter," Tigh ordered.
     Apollo walked over to their guests and stopped.  There was a fit
looking man in his early thirties, a knockout honey-blonde slightly
younger and lastly a diminutive silver mechanoid.  "I'm Captain Apollo,
flight leader of Blue Squadron.  Please follow me please."  Apollo
sensed that the group were slightly put out at his brusqueness as they
were herded first into the decontamination chambers, and then led to
the nearby lift platform that would take them into the bowels of the
ship.  As the Landing Bay disappeared from view, the group saw the
Starfighter being moved to a different part of the Bay, ostensibly for
repairs.  Apollo guessed that an examination of the ship to assess its
origins and capabilities would also be conducted.

     Lucifer headed for Baltar's chamber, even as the news was relayed
to him.  This would please the human, and put Lucifer back into his
good books.  "By your command."
     The pleasure and satisfaction was obvious in the Cylon's voice. 
Baltar turned and commanded Lucifer to speak.
     "Good news.  Although our Earth captives were able to escape, the
manner of that escape as provided us with valuable data.  They were
assisted by a group of Colonial Vipers apparently patrolling this
system.  They subsequently destroyed our pursuit force which was
somewhat fewer in number and made their way through one of the
passageways in this system."
     Baltar seemed to take this information in without commenting on
it.
     "This surely confirms our suspicions that the Colonial Fleet is
just behind us in a nearby system.  Further, when our additional units
arrived on the scene, they located and destroyed an automated probe of
Colonial origin that had been observing us and our actions and which
was somehow able to communicate with the Colonial Fleet."
     "A most interesting report, Lucifer.  And you're right, it does go
towards making up for their escape.  Prepare plans for an attack,
providing you can first confirm their location."
     Lucifer nodded and headed off for what in human terms would be
called, a brainstorming session with like minded Cylons.

Chapter Eight

     Colonel Tigh entered Adama's quarters; he didn't even bother to
knock, so urgently was his presence required.  Tigh found Adama,
staring at an enhancement of an image from one of the Alpha Launch
Bay's cameras.  The image, Tigh observed, was of the emblem on the side
of the Earth fighter that showed a hemisphere of a planet encased in
two overlapping laurel leaves.  Adama nodded to Tigh as the younger man
entered his quarters and motioned for him to join him.
     "Captain Apollo and our guests will be here shortly as per your
instructions Commander."
     "And their ship?" Adama asked, only looking up at Tigh who was by
now looking over Adama's shoulders at the image on the screen.
     "The ship's sustained notable damage, but our people believe that
they can patch it up."  Tigh pointed to the image.  "Adama, may I ask
what you're looking at?"
     "This, Tigh, might well prove that our guests really are from
Earth, and not merely some ruse of the Cylons," Adama replied.
     He reached for a well-used leather-bound book on his desk and
thumbed through the pages until he found what he was looking for.  From
what Tigh could see, it was one of the books contained in the hidden
archives.  The ones only members of the Quorum of Twelve were
privileged to read.  From it's title, Tigh could see that it dealt with
the flight from the planet Kobol.  Adama pointed to an illustration on
the page showing a two-dimensional map of a star system.  Adama
indicated the third planet out from the single star at the centre of
that system.
     "That is the planet Earth, Tigh.  Notice please the similarities
in the geography of the hemisphere of Earth represented in this
illustration and the markings on the fighter."
     Tigh conceded that there were startling similarities, but
anticipating that Adama was using the illustration to support their
guest's claims of a terrestrial origin, he pointed out, "As a member of
the council, Baltar would also have had access to books like this. 
Assuming Baltar has been reunited with the Cylons, he could have had
those markings applied to that ship knowing you would say that if the
ship wasn't from Earth, the markings might not be there."
     "I know that this can prove or disprove the matter, because I know
as a fact that Baltar had not served on the Quorum long enough by the
time of the 'Peace' conference to be permitted access to such works. 
And whilst Baltar was immoral & resourceful enough to have attempted to
access these works, we would have been aware of such an act."  Adama
closed the book and switched the screen off.  He turned to Tigh and
said, "Now listen, Tigh, I want a complete news blackout on this.  No
one is to know about the ship or it's occupants.  They are to be
provided with an escort at all times as well as quarters in a secure
area of the ship and all those who maybe aware of their origins are to
be told to keep quiet."  
     Tigh nodded as Adama talked before he requested clarification on
certain matters, "Even if it transpires they are from Earth?"
     "Especially if they come from Earth.  I'll inform the people as
soon as the situation permits," Adama replied steadfastly.
     "And what of the Quorum?  Surely they should be told in the
eventuality that these people come from Earth."
     Adama shook his head.  "As far as the Quorum's concerned, I will
inform them when it is absolutely necessary and not a micron before."
     Tigh agreed with most of what Adama was saying but felt concerned
about some of the details.  "But should the Quorum find out anyway, and
find out you've been keeping this momentous event from our people, Uri
will finally be able to destroy you."
     "I know, Tigh, but we can't afford people to know before we've a
viable strategy for dealing with the Cylons up ahead.  As it is, the
actions of Apollo's patrol may have made matters worse.  If the Quorum
finds out, this'll merely fan the flames."
     Tigh nodded and left to carry out his orders.  Adama returned to
his desk and brought up a file he felt might be useful if and when the
Fleet encountered Earth.

     Lieutenants Sheba, Boomer and Starbuck, together with the four or
five other pilots from Apollo's momentous patrol headed back to the
Officer's club for some overdue R&R.  They were full of high spirits as
a result of the events of the patrol, laughing and giggling seemingly
uncontrollably.  As the reached the last corridor intersection before
the entrance to the room, Colonel Tigh appeared in their path, it was
clear from his pose that he wished to speak with them.  The laughter
and giggles rapidly died down.
     "Is there something that we can do for you Colonel?" asked
Starbuck, noticing the look on the dark-skinned Executive Officer's
face.
     "Orders from on high Starbuck.  You are all ordered not to discuss
with anyone where our guests come from.  The 'E' word is not to be
used, and I do mean no one.  Is that understood?"
    "By 'E' word, I take it you mean, Earth?"
     The look, Tigh gave Starbuck in response to his question was
enough to answer him without any verbal reply. 
     "Does that include the Quorum of Twelve?  In the unlikely event we
should run into any of them of course?" asked Ensign Greenbean.
     Tigh looked at the tall, thin junior officer who was due for
promotion to Lieutenant and transfer to Red Squadron.  "That includes
the Quorum, Ensign," Tigh replied.  With that he walked past the group
of now subdued warriors who began making their way to the Officer's
club.

     Buck, Wilma and the Quads were ushered into the quarters by
Captain Apollo.  The room reminded the Earthlings of Dr. Huer's office
in New Chicago in size and layout, though not the decor, which appeared
to possess a more riveted, 'Battleship' quality about it as opposed to
the all-white, antiseptic feel of Huer's officer.  Curios & artefacts
of obvious antiquity were located in pigeonholes located behind a large
desk with a view screen and several other documents on it.  Their first
view of Commander Adama was awe-inspiring.  The resemblance between
Apollo and Adama was readily apparent in the chiselled jaw, the
piercing, intelligent eyes, and if one mentally removed the lines and
wrinkles and substituted the iron-grey (almost white) hair on Adama for
lustrous black hair, one would find a look alike of Apollo.  Buck
guessed that this was a latter-day, cosmic Winston Churchill, which,
upon further information about the man and his achievements seemed to
be proven correct.  Adama was standing just in front of the wall that
faced his desk and the door beside it as the group entered.  He was
standing, almost to attention.
     "Father, if I may introduce our guests," Apollo began.  "This is
Colonel Wilma Deering & Captain Buck Rogers of the Earth Defence
Directorate, and from the Earth's Computer Council, Dr. Theopolus and
his drone, Twiki."
     At the mention of his name, the little Quad made his familiar
noise.  The Earthlings were relieved that Apollo had introduced them
properly.  On their way from the Galactica's Hanger, Apollo had
initially made the same mistake that Baltar had, and thought that
they're fore & surnames were all one name.  He then muttered something
to himself about how they had similar name systems as the people of the
planet Terra and was satisfied.  On their way over to Adama's quarters,
they had also noticed the two men with laser blasters wearing navy
uniforms accompanying them who were identified as 'Council Security.'
     They were brought back to the present by Apollo introducing his
Father to them, "This is my Father, Commander Adama.  Commander of this
vessel, member of the Quorum of Twelve and President of the Twelve
Colonies of Humanity, or at least what's left of them."  Although there
was obvious pride in Apollo's voice as he introduced Adama, Buck was
pleased to see that it lacked any of the arrogance that such an
extravagant introduction could be laced with, a pleasant contrast to
Count Baltar.
     "So, you really are from the planet Earth?"  There was something
in Adama's voice that conveyed a degree of expectation and reigned in
excitement.  To Buck, it was though he was hoping for them to yes, but
expecting them to say no.  The whole thing reminded Buck of the first
girl he had ever asked out on a date back in his early teens, right up
until she has said yes, he had been expecting a negative response.  To
this day, he could recall with great ease, the thoughts and emotions he
had experienced when she had said yes.  Buck looked at the others in
their group, none of them knowing just what the significance of their
Earthly origins were to these people.  It was Theo, as a representative
of Earth's government who answered on behalf of them all.
     "That is correct Commander, we do come from a planet called
Earth."
     Adama walked up close to Wilma and gently gripped her right arm
and turned her slightly to get a better look at the rainbow-coloured
armband with Earth's picture in the centre.  Adama stared at the image
for a moment or so before releasing Wilma's arm and apologising,
returned to his original spot.
Adama's face broke into a look of intense pleasure and emotion.  Tears
seemed to be welling up in his eyes as he moved to shake hands with
Buck, Wilma, and even Twiki.
     "By the Lords of Kobol, for the first time in seven thousand
yahrens."
     "May we ask why you wish to know this.  The human we encountered
aboard the Cylon ship, Baltar also expressed interest in that fact,"
Theo asked Adama.
     Adama, blanched at the mention of Baltar's name, his feelings of
relief being washed away like sand with the tide.  The mention of the
traitor's name confirming every fear and suspicion he had regarding the
man's fate after being unceremoniously dumped by the Fleet after first
giving inside information.
     "Did Baltar say anything else?  What he intended to do with Earth? 
With us?"  Adama was visibly concerned.  He noticed the look Apollo was
giving him and could see in it that the feeling was shared.
     "The Count, as he described himself, did indicate a great deal of
interest in Earth through his aide, a mechanoid named Lucifer," Theo
replied.
     It was Buck who finished for him.  "He tried to sell us some story
about the Cylons being threatened by you and they being forced to
destroy you, essentially before you destroyed them.  He also implied
that if, we turned away those of you who were left, he would see that
his Cylon friends left us alone."
     "Oh, he did, did he?" Adama asked, not bothering to hide his
scepticism.
     "We didn't believe him either.  Though we didn't know the actual
facts, there was something about his claims that didn't make sense." 
Wilma explained.  Adama nodded.  He turned to the viewer on his desk
and pressed a few buttons.  The illumination in the room dimmed
noticeably and Adama directed their attention to a pair of screens on a
wall by the side of the door.  The screens began playing back a grainy
film with sound that was hard to distinguish from the background hiss.
     "A few yahren, sorry years ago I picked up a signal from an
observation station on the this ship," Apollo began.
     "An observation station?  On a vessel like this?" Wilma asked,
somewhat surprised at the notion of such a thing on a ship like the
Galactica.
     "When the old girl was launched over five hundred yahren, there I
go again, years ago there were a number of such stations used to assist
the navigational computers," Apollo replied.
     "This ship is over five hundred years old?" asked Buck who then
affectionately patted a nearby support.  Apollo and Adama were somewhat
mystified at why the age of the Battlestar should amuse Buck.  Adama
returned to viewing the film as Buck and Wilma continued smirking in
the semi-darkness.
     "We couldn't decipher the signal initially, but a colleague of
mine rigged a signal booster and when I re-visited the station a few
days later, this is what I found."  Apollo didn't mention the fact that
he had missed the second signal initially, and had only stumbled upon
it by accident when he returned to the station to find the equipment
on, probably knocked on by Apollo as he and Starbuck had left in
something of a hurry to attend a celebration in their honour.  He
checked the memory banks of the recording device and had found the
signal that had come through much more clearly than it's predecessor.
     On the screen, a slightly tinted picture showed a barren landscape
and the shadow of the object the camera was attached to closing on the
surface, kicking up dust as it did so.  In the background, amid
crackling and hissing sounds were the distinctive sounds of
instructions being issued and acknowledged.
     "Sixty seconds," said a voice on the screen.  Between each
sentence there was a beep.
     "Lights on.  Down-two-and-a-half.  Forward, forward.  Good, forty
feet down two-and-a-half, picking up some dust.  Thirty feet,
two-and-a-half down, faint shadow.  Four forward, four forward,
drifting to the right a little, six... down a half."  At this point the
first voice returned and said urgently, "Thirty seconds."
     Wilma, Twiki, Adama and Apollo all turned to Buck who had begun to
mutter word for word everything being spoken on the screen.
     "Contact light, okay engine arm off, four thirteen is in."
     "We copy you down Eagle."
     "Houston, Tranquillity Base here, the Eagle has Landed," reported
a third voice, presumably from the craft called Eagle.
     "Roger Tranquillity, we copy you on the ground.  You've got a
bunch guys about to turn blue.  We're breathing again.  Thanks a lot,"
the first voice replied, flushed with obvious relief.  The picture on
the screen had changed by this time to a distance shot of the barren
plane with a spidery vehicle perched in the centre like a giant crab on
a beach.  The footage ended at that point and Adama raised the lights
to normal before turning to Buck.
     "You are familiar with that transmission, aren't you?"
     "That's footage of the Apollo XI Moon landing.  I don't think it
is the actual coverage of the landing, more some documentary made long
after the event.  You can tell that because the closing scene of the
ship on the moonscape was taken from a camera on one of the later
flights, Apollos' XV through XVII.  When did you say you detected this
signal?" Buck asked Apollo.
     "About five yahrens or years ago."
     "How far from here were you?" Buck prompted.
     "Several thousand parsecs."
     "That transmission dates from the early 1970s at the earliest. 
That doesn't make sense," Buck replied, clearly confused as to how such
a signal travelled so far so fast at the speed of light.
     "Actually Buck, it's quite possible that the original transmission
was swept up by any number of natural or artificial phenomena and sent
out beyond the Solar System," Wilma explained.   
     "Well, I think now would be a good time that I told you who we
are, and just why it is you are so important to us and our futures. 
Though I suspect you already know."
     Adama turned and sat down indicating everyone else should follow
suit.  Theo instructed Twiki to place him on the Commander's desk as
Adama launched into his story.
     "Many millennia ago, there was a once paradise-like planet called
Kobol.  The world was orbiting a dying sun that was the last star in
that part of its galaxy.  Twelve of the thirteen tribes of humanity
left and founded our home worlds, whilst the Thirteenth remained behind
that much longer before setting out on their own journey..."
     "...And so, with the destruction of the Colonies, I hit upon the
idea of seeking you out, in order to re-establish relations with our
sister world with hopes of settling there and enlisting your aid in our
fight with the Cylons," Adama concluded an hour or two later.
     There was a long pause as Adama took a sip of a wine-like beverage
he described as Ambrosia and looked expectantly at the Earth group
waiting for a response.  The Earthlings just didn't know where to
begin, what they had just been told was to say the least, a revelation. 
It was Wilma who was first to speak up from the group, albeit awkwardly
and apologetically.
     "We have no way of verifying your story.  You see shortly after
the time this ship of yours was built, which was the same time as the
events you just showed us took place our world was still divided and
bigoted.  Around the Earth year 2000, there was a terrible war, World
War III, which left Earth a wasteland for generations to come.  With
that war, many records were lost, and many people left Earth once
technology permitted it much like these thirteen tribes you spoke of," 
Wilma said.
     Adama was shocked and saddened by what he had just been told. 
"World War III?" he said at last.
     "Actually, if you listen to some historians there could have been
at least two more," Buck said referring to the Seven Years and
Napoleonic wars of the 18th and 19th centuries.
     Adama shook his head in disbelief.
     "Which leaves one more question.  What lead to your capture by the
Cylons?" asked Apollo.
     "These Cylons mounted an unprovoked and genocidal attack on one of
our agricultural colony worlds called Vyra.  We were sent ahead of a
relief force from Earth to see if we could determine what had happened
and whether or not we could do anything about it," Wilma replied.  "In
fact, we would like to return to Earth via Vyra at once in order to
inform our people what's going on out here," Wilma said.
     "So that was why one of those Baseships went through that
passageway."  Adama mused out loud,  "You have our deepest sympathies,
but as I've explained, the Cylons wish to exterminate, or at least,
subjugate all humanity.  They will try for Earth and your other
colonies."  He continued, "Your ship is still under repair and you'll
need it in excellent running order if you are going to break through
the blockade the Cylons have ahead of us."  He then turned and
contacted someone from the maintenance department requesting an update
on the Starfighter.  After being informed it would take another few
centars (or hours in Earth measurements) he turned to Buck and Wilma
and offered them guest quarters for the night.  They accepted, though
they were anxious to return, first to Vyra to locate Latimer, and then
home with what they had learnt.  A short time later, an officer in a
blue uniform like Adama's arrived and escorted them to their chambers.
     The moment the door closed behind them Adama rounded on his Son.
     "What is the meaning of all of this?" he demanded.
     Apollo suspected his Father had something important to say to him
when he requested Colonel Tigh report to his quarters and escort the
Earthlings to guest quarters.  Apollo never thought however that it
would be a dressing down for what he had done.
     "I don't understand Father.  What is it that I've done wrong? 
These people come from the planet Earth!" he asked genuinely unaware of
his Father's concerns.
     "You violated your orders and failed to mask your presence from
the Cylons.  Before it was subsequently detected and destroyed by the
Cylons, the probe we've been using showed us everything.  You went
charging in there with no discipline or clue as to what to do!  It was
a miracle you didn't lose anyone."
     Adama knew from subspace telemetry and other monitoring methods,
that it was the rest of the patrol in violation of Apollo's orders that
had been responsible.  Adama also knew though that Apollo was too good
a warrior to allow those under his command to take the blame.  It
therefore came as a shock to the Commander when at first it appeared
that his Son was doing just that.
     "The truth is that they all saw the craft was in trouble and
wanted to pitch in against my instructions.  And the truth is I could
have done a better job of reining them in but I didn't.  Why you may
ask?  Because I felt that what they were doing was right."  Apollo
waited for his Father's reaction.
     "And because of what your patrol did, the Cylons have confirmation
of our position."
     "They would have killed those people!"
     "There were just two of them plus their drones, there's a million
of us.  As painful as it is to accept, it was for the greater good that
they die so that a million more could live.  Not to mention the people
of Earth.  Even now whatever plan Baltar and the Cylons are working on
against us will doubtless be brought forward," Adama replied.
     "So I should just have accepted their deaths in the same way that
I did with Zac, Father?"
     Apollo had just gone for the emotional jugular.  Adama knew the
guilt Apollo carried inside him over the death of his younger brother,
even though as children the two had never been particularly close. 
Apollo and Zac had been flying the patrol that had inadvertently
uncovered the Cylon attack force that wiped out the Fleet of
Battlestars.  In their attempt to return with the news, Zac's Viper was
damaged and Apollo was forced to leave him to the Cylons so as to get
back to the Fleet.  Zac's ship had been destroyed just short of its
goal.  And although he was ashamed to admit it, there had been a small
part of Adama that had been relieved that his Wife, Ila was one of the
Cylon's victims on Caprica for it had spared him from telling her of
their son's death.
     "Yes well, now everything's changed.  Your pilots are going to get
their wish.  No more hanging around.  As of this moment I'm placing the
entire Fleet on alert.  And, before they leave here tomorrow, I'll try
to elicit military assistance from Earth.  After all, now that they
know where we are they probably have an idea where Earth is as well,
particularly as our guests were their prisoners."
     As Apollo left, Adama sat back down and uttered a prayer of
forgiveness for the emotions and feelings he was experiencing at that
moment.  For as a result of their unprovoked attack on the Earth
colony, Earth had been inextricably involved in the war between the
Cylon Alliance and the Colonies, the tide of war may have turned.

Chapter Nine

     The quarters that the officer, who identified himself as Colonel
Tigh, escorted them to, was according to the Colonel the most opulent
aboard ship.
     "It's reserved for the use of the President and his staff when
embarked aboard ship," Tigh said.
     "Then why doesn't Commander Adama use it like his predecessors? 
After all, he is the current President," Wilma asked.
     "The Commander doesn't want to live in surroundings such as these
while many of our people live in terrible conditions aboard most of the
ships in the Fleet.  And there are those in our political assemblies
who would use is doing so to undermine him."  After giving them a brief
rundown of the amenities and services in the quarters he excused
himself and left.
     It was a few moments before Wilma broke the silence.
     "Buck, I didn't want to say anything in the Commander's presence,
but do you know anything of what he's talking about?"
     Buck, who at that moment had been testing some of the mod cons
Colonel Tigh had just shown them, turned to face Wilma and broke into a
smile.
     "During the latter half of the 20th century, people turned away
from religion in search of new answers to the old questions about where
we come from and so on.  At that time, the world was in the grip of
Flying Saucer hysteria.  I've told you about Flying Saucers or UFOs as
they were called haven't I?"
     Wilma nodded and the Quads also responded in the affirmative.
     "Well, in the 1960s people began to wonder how certain great
wonders of the world, most notably the Pyramids & Sphinx of the Giza
plateau in Egypt were built and when, not to mention what for.  Around
the time I left Earth there was some new archaeological discoveries
that suggested the three main Pyramids and certain markers in the area
were a representation of the constellation of Orion circa 10000 BCE &
due to weathering on the Sphinx, that it too dated back that far," Buck
explained.
     "But from what records survived the Nuclear Holocaust, and what
records have been recovered and reconstructed with your help Buck, we
know our civilisation began around about 2500 BCE, seven thousand years
ago," Wilma pointed out.
     "I'm as much in the dark about it all as you Wilma, but the fact
is that there are legends stretching back thousands of years which if
interpreted with a technological eye indicate some degree of
Extra-terrestrial involvement in our past.  At least that's what Erich
Von Daniken wrote."
     "Erich Von who?" queried Theo.
     "He was a former Swiss Hotel Owner and amateur archaeologist.  In
the late 1960s he wrote the first of several books on the possibility
that what Commander Adama just told us actually happened.  The book was
called 'Chariots of the Gods?' and subtitled in English, 'Was God
Really An Astronaut?', several sequels followed," Buck explained.
     "Bede, bede, bede, I think someone must have Swiss cheesed his
brain," Twiki piped up.
     "Quiet Twiki,"  Theo snapped, "You seem to know a great deal about
the subject and it's proponents Buck.  Do you support the theory?"
     Buck smiled in mild embarrassment at Theo's question.  "The space
flight I made aboard Ranger III was originally scheduled to leave Earth
in 1986 and flyby Mars whose orbit would bring it close to Earth at
that point.  But in January of that year, a Space Shuttle called
Challenger on a mission to orbit Earth blew up just a minute or so
after lift off and the whole US Manned Space Program was put on hold. 
Eventually I flew, albeit a year behind schedule and because Mars was
no longer close enough to Earth, it was to visit a comet instead. 
Nevertheless, before the Challenger disaster, people like Von Daniken
believed I was going to Mars to photograph a feature there called
simply the face."
     "And what was the face?" asked Wilma.
     "It was a mountain or geological formation in the Cydonia region
of Mars photographed by two orbiting unmanned probes, Vikings I & II
ten years earlier.  Anyway back when I was still scheduled to flyby
Mars, to head off such claims, NASA arranged for me to go on live
Television and debate with one of Von Daniken's supporters about the
whole thing.  As preparation, I read up on the man and some of his
rivals, and most important of all, I read one or two of their works and
watched documentaries on the subject.  I think at the debate I
demolished his argument quite thoroughly."
     "How, if as it now seems he was at least partly right?" asked
Wilma.
     "Von Daniken shot himself in the foot," Buck began.
     "Why would he do such a thing to himself?" asked Theo.
     "I was speaking metaphorically, Theo.  What I meant was, he
suppressed or embellished certain facts to prove his theories.  Once
that was common knowledge, his theories crumbled."
     "Until now," Wilma pointed out.
     "Until now," agreed Buck.

     Dr. Huer walked down the corridor towards his office after a
particularly contentious debate in the Computer Council.  Theo's
absence was sorely felt by Huer when trying to make arguments in
defence of his course of action thus far.  The general feeling was that
Buck, Wilma and the others had been given enough time and that the
relief force should be dispatched to Vyra at once, even though there
was still some hours left to run on the deadline Huer had imposed upon
Buck & Wilma's party.  Huer entered his office, and after pausing long
enough to feed his fish, summoned Major Duke Danton, one of the best
pilots in the Defence Directorate and the man charged with leading the
relief force.  A few minutes later, the thirty-something Officer and
one-time lover of Wilma's entered Huer's office.  He was one of those
no-nonsense Officers who knew their duty and didn't mince words. 
Almost two years earlier, he had helped Buck and Wilma uncover a plot
to attack Earth, he had returned to lead an attack force back to the
Earth colony of Vistula from whence the attack was to come from and
destroy that force.  As a prelude to invasion, Earth fighter pilots had
been coming down with food poisoning that briefly decimated Earth's
forces.  In spite of the fact that he only had a few pilots, mainly
reservists, he eventually got his way and returned to Vistula and
headed off the invasion.
     "Well Major, the word from on high is that we launch at once."
     "I must say that it's about time sir.  My people and I were
getting itchy feet just waiting to go," Danton replied in his customary
fashion.
     "Well, I'm not so sure.  We don't know what you'll be up against. 
I just wish we had heard from Buck and Wilma."
     "If I know them sir, they're fine.  And if they're not, then God
help the ones who've hurt them."
     Danton didn't bother to wait for Huer's permission to leave, he
simply turned on his heals and headed for the Launch Bay.  Huer watched
him go with an admiring smile.  Danton reminded Huer of himself a few
decades earlier, he'd have done the same thing.  Several minutes later,
the citizens of New Chicago were treated to an impromptu air display of
some one hundred Starfighters streaking off from the Military Launch
Complex on the edge of the City, bound for Vyra.

     Apollo entered his quarters and collapsed on the edge of his bed
letting out a sigh of both exhaustion and frustration.  He removed his
brown flight jacket and holster and stared up at the ceiling for a few
moments.  The sound of a child playing in the adjoining, spare bedroom
brought him to the present and he headed into that other room.  Boxey,
Apollo's twelve-year-old Son was sitting up in bed, playing with his
pet daggit, Muffit, or Muffy, as he preferred.  Although Boxey was
twelve, he still played with the cybernetic replica of the pet he had
lost during the destruction of the colonies.  At that moment he was
practicing a new trick that he was probably going to demonstrate to his
Father or Grandfather.  This was especially self evident by the abrupt
way he ordered the Drone to stop what it was doing and 'go to sleep'
when Apollo came in the room.  With an affectionate growl the Drone
waggled it's antenna-like ears and loped over to the corner of the room
where it lay down and curled up into a ball.  Boxey himself lay back in
his bed, and as his Father had done in the other room a few moments
earlier, just stared up at the ceiling in a contemplative mood.
     "I managed to catch your instructor earlier.  She told me that
you've not been paying attention in class again and your work's been
slipping.  There was an essay you were to turn in for history about the
life and careers of all the Colonial Presidents this century up to and
including your Grandfather that's still outstanding."  Apollo tried to
approach the subject gently.  His son turned his head a fraction and
reached for a PADD on the bedside table.  Apollo took the PADD and
briefly looked at the contents before replacing it on the table.
     "I was just waiting to ask Grandpa a couple of questions about
what it's like to be President before I turned it in, that's why it's
late.  I never got the chance because he's been so busy, I haven't seen
him to talk to lately, and he's been so busy," Boxey explained.
     "Boxey, the other kids in your class don't have access to your
Grandfather and they turned in some quite good pieces all the same,"
Apollo stated.  He believed that Boxey's explanation was the truth.  He
also believed the reason for Boxey's behaviour of late was that the day
of Apollo and Sheba's Sealing was finally, fast approaching.  Although
Boxey got on famously with his Stepmother-to-be, he was feeling
anxious, and maybe even a little ashamed out of loyalty to his late
Mother Serina over his feelings for Sheba.  But nevertheless it was
important to nip the problem in the bud.  Apollo decided to resort to
an old tried and trusted tactic and said, "You know, I'm aware that
there's nearly always a shortage of warriors in the Fleet, especially
pilots.  But if you don't improve somewhat, they'll never let you fly
Vipers."
     This seemed to have an effect, the boy rolled over onto his side
so as to face his Father.
     "It just gets a little annoying, following the rules all the
time," Boxey explained.
     His Father gave a little conciliatory smile and excused himself. 
After satisfying himself that Boxey was asleep, Apollo decided to offer
their Terran guests some Colonial hospitality.  As his Son had just
said, it was annoying following the rules.

     Adama rubbed his eyes as he signed the Bill.  He glanced up from
his desk and smiled for the stills photographer who recorded the
signing of the legislative bill into law.  Perrin, the man who was to
Adama in his role as President, what Colonel Tigh was to him as
Commander of the Galactica, motioned the man out when he had finished. 
A few yahrens earlier, Perrin had been the Galactica's Space Wing
Commander before the post was abolished in the Colonial Forces.  He'd
not been interested in a shipboard posting of the kind Tigh and Adama
himself had gone for, instead Perrin had become a flight instructor
before entering politics as Adama's chief aide when Adama had been the
Caprican representative to the Quorum of Twelve.  When Adama had become
President following the Holocaust, so Perrin moved up along with him. 
To Adama, Perrin was almost as close and trusted as Tigh and his
immediate family.  Adama let out a sigh and stretched slightly,
replacing his writing stylus in his desk draw.
     "Is something bothering you sir?" enquired Perrin.
     "I should be pleased with myself.  This Welfare Bill was long
overdue, and to be honest, it was good to concentrate on something
constructive rather than worrying about Cylons or battle strategies. 
But all the time, that's all I was thinking about, was our Earth guests
and the rights & wrongs of my keeping their presence & identities from
the Quorum."  Adama shook his head slightly and massaged the fatigue
from his eyes.  Perrin looked at his superior and commiserated with
him.  Many was the time when he or one of the others whom Adama trusted
would sit in his quarters until late into the night, hearing him pour
his heart out over the day's problems.  Adama detected Perrin's
apparent discomfort.
     "I'm not keeping you up Perrin am I?  I mean it is getting on for
late, and you seem to see more of me than your Wife."
     "It's not that Sir.  You see Sire Uri has been waiting to see you
all evening.  In fact he's aboard right now, waiting down the corridor. 
I think he may know about our guests and where they come from.  It's
why I rushed the photographer out," Perrin explained very
apologetically.  Adama sank back in his leather chair a little further
as he digested the news.
     "I suppose it was bound to happen.  Perrin, on your way out, I
wonder if you'd be so good as to ask Sire Uri to come in."
     Perrin nodded, and after the two men exchanged goodbyes, left to
usher in Uri.
     As Sire Uri entered his quarters, he found Adama standing in front
of the wall directly opposite the oval viewing port.  Upon the wall
where framed photographs of some of the Galactica's Commanding
Officers, including Adama.  Uri's Mother, Adama's predecessor as the
Battlestar's CO, also had a photograph, it was her photo that Adama was
paying particular attention to, straightening it.  The woman on the
photo was in her late forties with greying hair and a broad smile on
her slightly old and wizened face.  When he was satisfied that the
photo was correctly aligned, Adama took a couple of paces back and
stared at it for a moment or two before turning to his guest.
     "Forgive me, for not greeting you at once.  This likeness of your
Mother required some attention."  Adama shook Uri's hand before
continuing.  "She was a striking woman.  You know I think every man who
served with her was under her spell.  I remember when I was made her
Exec, she used to get me to agree to all manner of things I wouldn't
otherwise have done for the ship."
     "Mr. President, I am here at this late centar on the gravest of
business."
     Sire Uri's greeting immediately set Adama on the defensive. 
Unlike with his predecessors, few people called him 'Mr. President'
those who did rarely used the term in private with him.  It was always
'Commander' or 'Sir' or even 'Adama', and from his children, 'Father.' 
Uri was clearly trying to get to him somehow.  However, Adama responded
to the reference by simply cocking an eyebrow at the mention of his
title.
     "It is my understanding from a constituent of mine who works in
the maintenance department of this ship's Alpha Landing Bay, that we
have people aboard from Earth.  My question to you is therefore, is it
true, and if so why keep it from the Quorum of Twelve and our people?"
     Adama looked Uri in the eye when he replied.  "It is true that we
have aboard this ship, a fighter craft from a hitherto un-encountered,
human civilisation, slightly less advanced than our own and it's four
occupants, a man, a woman and two cybernetic Drones," Adama responded.
     "And why didn't you inform the Quorum?"  Uri pressed.
     "Because I didn't want to build people's hopes up, only to have to
dash them.  You remember a few yahrens back, when we encountered those
refugees from the Eastern Alliance of the planet Terra, on their way to
the moon they called Peradeen.  Everyone thought they were from Earth,
they even referred to themselves as Terrans, which our current guests
also do, but it transpired that they didn't come from there after all. 
And as far as informing the Quorum goes, I would've done so as soon as
I received confirmation of their Earthly origins."  Adama was truthful,
up to a point that was.
     "From what I can see, you have proof that they are from Earth. 
You mentioned my mother just now.  Well we she commanded this ship she
would never have done what you have.  As for the evidence there are the
markings on their fighter for instance.  Then there's the fact that
you've had them here to talk to."
     Uri motioned to Adama's quarters.  "If you remember Adama, like
you, I've served on the Quorum long enough to qualify for viewing the
secret archives," He patted the book on Adama's desk that the Commander
had been consulting, "just like you have.  The question now is, from
your conversations, will they help us, and indeed, can they help?"
     "They are more than advanced enough.  And I have explained our
plight to them.  When they leave here tomorrow, they will convey our
plea for military assistance from Earth."
     Uri accepted that.  He sat down with Adama on the L-shaped sofa in
the corner of the quarters.  "Before they leave, the Quorum will expect
to speak with at least one of them, in chambers so that we may add our
weight to your plea for their help.  Not to mention, assess them for
ourselves," Uri stated.  There was little doubt that it was an order.
     "If you think it'll help persuade them, of course.  For us to
finally press on, and, as you on the Quorum and our Warriors wish,
engage the Cylon force ahead of us, we will need substantial
reinforcements from Earth, otherwise it'll just be a rout and a
massacre."
     Uri made to leave, having satisfied himself that he had extracted
a humiliating admission of misconduct from Adama vis a vis first
contact with the people of Earth.  As he reached the door however,
Adama called back after him.
     "Why must you and I always be at loggerheads?  When I want to
proceed with our journey and fight the Cylons, you want us to abandon
our search for Earth and settle on some tranquil planet off the beaten
path, with token, defensive weapons only so as not to offend the
Cylons.  Then, when I wish to adopt a more cautious route, you want to
charge into battle regardless of the consequences, why?  Is it spite,
ego, what?"  Adama wanted an answer.
     Pausing for a moment at the now open door, Uri replied, "Did it
ever occur to you Adama, that for once, we on the Quorum acknowledge
the situation?  We know we could all die if what we want fails, but
we'd rather die at the hands of the Cylons whilst trying to break
through to Earth than out here, from overcrowding and starvation."  The
doors closed behind Uri, leaving Adama alone to ponder the implications
of what Uri had just said.

     Buck and Wilma were ushered into a room deep in the heart of the
Battlestar referred to as a Rejuvenation Centre.  The room was clearly
capable of holding more people than it currently did but for now only a
few men and women, all wearing the brown and tan uniforms of a Colonial
Warrior were present.  Buck suspected, correctly, that these were the
pilots whose patrol had saved them from recapture or worse at the hands
of Baltar and his Cylon cohorts earlier that day.  The group exchanged
introductions and pleasantries with Wilma receiving more than a few
appraising looks from the male Warriors present, though most did
nothing as they guessed, only semi-correctly that they were an item.
     "There's still one or two more of us to come, we usually spend our
off centars in the Officer's Club," Apollo explained.  "Now I'll just
go and get a couple of drinks from the bar and we can get to know each
other a little better.  Meantime, why don't you two sit over there, I
know a lot of us would like to get to know you better."  Apollo pointed
them in the direction of one of the tables in the corner where a couple
of Warriors identified by Apollo as Boomer and Jolly were sitting.  As
soon as Buck and Wilma went over to join them, Apollo turned and headed
for the bar.
     As he and Wilma were sitting, Buck spied the Captain pause at the
bar as he was getting their drinks and seem to collect himself.  Buck
suspected that this impromptu get together wasn't necessarily on the
level.
     As soon as Apollo reached the bar and ordered the drinks he
breathed a long, deep breath.  He questioned his actions of the last
centar since leaving his Father's quarters.  He had been experiencing a
lot of different emotions as a result of his dressing down and had
needed to vent them.  There was also the feeling that he had to make up
for it somehow.  The answer that had sprung to his mind had been to get
those who'd accompanied him on the patrol and have them all go down to
the Rejuvenation Centre which was currently unoccupied, that way Apollo
reasoned, those in the know about the Earthlings would be in one secure
location.  Plus the fact that in an informal setting the Earthlings,
Buck Rogers and Wilma Deering as well as their cybernetic companions
would open up a bit more enabling them to learn more about their guests
from the Thirteenth Colony.  Apollo had arrived at the guest quarters,
unaware at that time about Uri's knowledge of Buck and Wilma's presence
aboard ship, which rendered his reasons for taking Buck and Wilma and
his fellow Warriors to an informal, but still contained location.  The
Quads declined his offer, but Buck and Wilma, who had both changed into
informal attire that they had stored aboard their ship, readily
accepted.  Apollo came over to the table where they were sitting and
placed the drinks before them.  The conversation had already veered
onto the subject of combat and flying.
     "Anyway, we try to keep as low a profile as possible so as not to
give the Cylons even a hint as to where we are.  That is of course
until we helped you out earlier today," Boomer was explaining.
     "Yeah, we think that it's a big thing to take out just one single
Cylon patrol ship, though we haven't needed to do that in a couple of
Yahren," Jolly agreed.  Until today Jolly had in fact been the last
Warrior to destroy a Cylon patrol ship approximately three yahrens
earlier, the Ensign then went into a graphic depiction (complete with
hand motions and child-like battle sounds) to illustrate the story.  As
Apollo grabbed a spare chair and dragged it over, he found it hard to
keep from smiling at Jolly's display.
     "You know, I remember similar missions that I had to perform back
in the Air Force on Earth," Buck began to explain.  "I was flying F-15s
from a base called Lakenheath in a country called Britain.  This was
back in 1981 or '82 by the way.  Any way there was a new piece of spy
equipment that the Soviets, they were the bad guys back then, had that
we needed and our intelligence people just couldn't get their hands on
one.  Now we knew that they were sending Bear Bombers over the North
Sea to penetrate British airspace to test our defences."
     As Apollo listened to Buck's story he noticed inconsistencies
spring up in what Buck was saying in relation to the descriptions of
Earth society that Apollo and his Father had gotten out of them
earlier.  These inconsistencies began to make Apollo edgy.  The other
assembled pilots, though totally oblivious to the politics and places
mentioned were enthralled all the same by the story.
     "Well, one day my CO calls my wing man and I into his office and
gives us a secret mission.  Next time a Bear enters British territory,
we have to shoot it down in such a way that the Soviets don't realise
what's happened or where so they won't have reason to retaliate.  You
see back then we weren't at war, rather there was a Cold War as it was
called."
     Wilma watched as Buck explained to the assembled Warriors how he
had managed to complete his mission, occasionally answering questions
posed to him, especially by Captain Apollo who from Wilma's point of
view seemed to be suddenly suspicious of the earthlings.
     "Soviets," Apollo had said at one point.
     "What?" Buck replied.
     "When you started your story you said the Soviets, now you're
saying it was the Russians," Apollo pointed out.
     Wilma was convinced Apollo was trying to catch Buck out suspecting
him and Wilma of deception.  It occurred to Wilma why, though she had
to stifle a giggle on one occasion when Apollo looked in her direction. 
As Buck explained that the Russians and Soviets were essentially
one-and-the-same to Apollo and then resumed his story, Wilma took the
Captain to one side and explained about Buck.
     "He's how old?" Apollo exclaimed incredulously clearly not sure
that he heard Wilma correctly, thinking perhaps that a year was less
than a yahren.
     "I don't have all the facts but approximately five centuries ago,
Buck was then what was once called an Astronaut.  He was sent aloft in
what to you and I would be a crude shuttlecraft to explore our star
system.  Several weeks into his five month mission, something happened
and he was frozen for the next five hundred years," Wilma explained.
     It was Apollo's turn to giggle.  "So that's why he acted the way
he did when he found out how old the Galactica was."  Apollo and Wilma
turned back to the group and saw that Buck had been telling them of his
story.
     "So let me get this straight, these NASA people you flew for
expected you to go five months in weightlessness with just rudimentary
exercise facilities and dietary supplements?  We get giddy after a
couple of centari in a Viper without gravity!"  That remark was from
Boomer.
     At this point Apollo's attention was drawn to the door sighing
open.  "Ah here are the rest of them.  Over here Starbuck, Sheba!"
Apollo called.
     Wilma turned her head to glance at the two new arrivals, a man of
about thirty with thick, light brown hair and a smoking object
protruding from his mouth that Wilma recognised from old images as a
cigar.  But it was the woman, Sheba that really got Wilma's attention. 
As she got a good look at the woman with long brown hair, she gave a
start.  Wilma recognised the face from a photograph of Buck's. 
Suddenly concerned, Wilma turned to her sometime-lover and saw the look
that was on his face.  It was shock.

Chapter Ten

     Jennifer!
     The words forced their way into Buck's mind.  As the woman called
Sheba entered the room, a thousand and one images and emotions
literally exploded in Buck's brain.  She looked just like his long-dead
Fiancee!  She even sounded just like her from what snatches and
snippets of conversation Buck could make out as she greeted everyone
present.  Buck just couldn't believe what he was seeing.
     His mind drifted back to the last time he had seen Jennifer, it
had been a couple of days before the launch of Ranger III.  As per NASA
regulations, Buck and his backup were placed in quarantine for a couple
of days before lift off to avoid contamination by bacteria and viruses. 
The night before launch, some of Buck's relatives and close friends
would b permitted to visit him in person (albeit kept at a safe
distance).  The night before that however, a couple of Buck's
colleagues not subject to the quarantine restrictions had helped sneak
her into Buck's dormitory quarters for a 'proper send off.'  Their
cover was almost blown in a scene reminiscent of the climax of a James
Bond movie when the Director of Flight Operations for the mission paid
a late night call on Buck to Relay a message from President Reagan
wishing him bon voyage and good luck.  Buck had managed to hide
Jennifer, but her bundle of clothes had escaped his attention in all
the fuss.  When Buck and the Flight Director looked at the pile of
feminine undergarments, Buck in characteristic fashion dismissed them
as a going away gift.  Only half-believing him, the Flight Director
left wondering if Buck was a closet cross-dresser and had been trying
on the clothes for what would be the last time in several months.  That
had been the last time he had really seen her.
     There had been an incident more than a year earlier when he had
encountered a young woman who also looked and sounded just like her,
but she had been a surgically altered dupe used by terrorists to coerce
Buck's help.  Looking at Sheba as she embraced Apollo, Buck suppressed
an irrational feeling of jealousy at the closeness of the two and had
to make an effort to remember that she was a different woman to the one
he had known five centuries earlier; this one after all was an alien
for all intents and purposes!
     Sheba shook Wilma Deering's hand in the way Terrans greeted each
other.
     "Lieutenant Sheba of Blue Squadron at your service Colonel," she
had stated after Apollo had introduced her.  The look on her face
belying the curiosity she felt over the expression that Wilma was
having a hard time keeping off hers, one of incredulity.
     "Why thank you," she replied somewhat hesitatingly before leading
Sheba over to Buck who rose to greet her.
     "Hello Jen- sorry.  Sheba?"  Buck covered up his slip of the
tongue.
     "I'm sorry but do I know you from somewhere?"  Sheba asked feeling
somewhat put out by the way their guests from Earth was reacting to
her.
     "No, not at all, it's just that you bear an uncanny resemblance to
a woman I was close to along, long time ago," Buck responded, his tone
of voice apologetic.  Sheba turned to a nearby table that was
unoccupied and invited Buck to join her.
     "I think I want to here all about this person I remind you of and
I suspect you'll be more comfortable telling me in private."  She said
glancing at Wilma and Apollo.
     "All right, but I better not tell you anything X-rated about her,"
Buck replied as he sat at the table.
     "X-rated?" Sheba and Apollo asked in concert, Wilma, whom Buck had
explained the meaning of the phrase to once before, stifling an
embarrassed giggle as Buck launched into his story.
     Buck found it easier than he had at first feared.  This time there
were no illusions about romance.  Sheba's involvement with Apollo,
Buck's own casual on/off relationship with Wilma and his experience a
year or two earlier in New Orleans with the Double of Jennifer, Leila,
had served as a 'reality check.'  But that hadn't stopped him from
being assaulted by a thousand and one images of his past.  After the
almost inevitable shock at the story of Buck's Ranger III mission and
the consequences and events that had flowed from that, the story moved
onto the Colonials themselves.  Buck was fascinated by Sheba's tales of
her Father, Commander Cain's exploits aboard the Battlestar Pegasus and
how she came to be aboard the Galactica.  In this respect she was also
like her twin.  Jennifer's Father had also been a military leader, a US
Navy Admiral who had served at one stage as the Captain, appropriately
enough, of the Nuclear Aircraft Carrier USS Enterprise in Vietnam. Buck
found her stories of adventures on countless unexplored planets
fascinating.  The Story of the Evil Count Iblis and the so-called 'Ship
of Lights' being particularly intriguing, and though Buck didn't know
why, vaguely familiar.  The story of their encounters with the Eastern
Alliance of the planet Terra offered many interesting and disturbing
parallels to Earth.  When Buck learnt for instance how the Galactica
had positioned itself in orbit of Terra and used her lasers to destroy
the Nuclear arsenals of that world's major powers, in much the same way
as President Ronald Reagan's Strategic Defence Initiative of Buck's
time, Buck couldn't help but wished that something like that could've
happened on Earth of the late 1990s.
     When Sheba finished her story Buck remarked,  "From what you've
just told me it sounds like The Ten Commandments meet Star Wars."
     "I'm sorry, I don't want to appear rude.  It's just that I don't
understand what you're saying," Sheba commented with confusion on her
face.
     "That's all right.  It took awhile for Wilma and her peers to
understand me, and we're from the same planet.  You'll have to get to
know me better," Buck replied. 
     "If we get the chance.  Sometime in the next few days we'll be
going up against the full weight of the Cylon war machine and without
substantial help from Earth, I can't see much hope for us."  Sheba
admitted.
     "Wilma and I will do our best.  Look by now there should be more
than one hundred and fifty Earth Starfighters within potential strike
range of the Cylon Fleet.  When we get back to Earth we'll tell them
everything we know and then wild horses won't keep us from this fight." 
As Buck said it, he wondered whether those forces Dr. Huer was sending
to Vyra had indeed reached there yet.

     Major Danton pulled his Starfighter out of a steep dive and as he
levelled off, he found himself on the tails of a trio of Cylon Raiders
in triangular formation.  After a moment or so he depressed the fire
button on his steering column and the emerald laser pulses from his
ship sent turned them into so many particles of matter.
     "Okay people, we've got all of them.  What say we escort those
troop transport shuttles down so that they can secure the surface?"
Danton announced to the others in the relief force as he and his
wingman rejoined the formation.
     Within moments of exiting the Stargate connecting the Vyra system
with Earth, the relief force had detected unidentified craft in the
vicinity of the colony.  Danton and several others had gone on ahead of
the main force and an engagement had ensued between themselves and the
unidentified, disk-shaped fighter craft.  The second, smaller relief
force numbering some forty fighters hailing from several nearby
colonies, space stations and other facilities rendezvoused with
Danton's force bringing the total to more than one hundred and eighty
Starfighters.  With a group of large, troop transport shuttles in their
group, the relief force entered Vyra's atmosphere and broke into three
even-sized groups.  Major Danton's group headed for the aerodrome in
the city that Buck and Wilma had visited accompanied by
Governor-designate Latimer on their earlier recon mission to the
planet.  They found the facility surprisingly intact, especially when
one compared it to the damage to the rest of the city and the whole of
Vyra for that matter.
     The shuttles landed first, followed closely by the Starfighters,
Danton's being among the first to land.  As his fighter came to a dead
stop, the whine of his engines not yet completely died down, Danton had
unstrapped himself, opened his cockpit and had broken into a run
towards the nearest transport shuttle, each of which were disgorging
their Landram armoured personnel carriers.
     "Think you could spare some room in there for me?" Danton shouted
up over the noise of revving engines at the Load Master for one of the
Landrams.
     "I think so Major, why?" came the response.
     Danton didn't bother to answer he merely climbed up on top and
rode next to the soldier operating the double-barrel laser turret
mounted on the roof.  The Land rams (about five in all, each containing
about fifteen soldiers distinguished from fighter pilots by the absence
of pilots' wings on the jackets and having cream-coloured helmets
lacking the scarlet lightning streaks on pilots' helmets) trundled
along the bumpy dirt track towards the city.  Like Buck and Wilma
before them, the group were shocked by what they saw as they entered
the decimated population centre.  The going became so bad, with rubble
and blast craters, and even the odd body in the way, the groups were
forced to continue on foot.  The group fanned out in a single column,
Danton feeling naked with just his laser pistol whilst the soldiers
were all equipped with a laser rifle in addition to a pistol.  He
warily looked about him constantly, gun at the ready, just waiting to
run into those responsible.  He never found them.  What he did find
however were the corpses (if that was the appropriate term) of several
of the mystery attackers.  He stared down at the bodies, one of which
was decapitated.
     "I managed to get the cybernetic bastards that killed my wife and
family."
     Danton and one or two others in the group, gave a collective start
as they whirled to face the voice, weapons still drawn at the ready. 
From out a nearby alley came Latimer, a little more composed than he
had been when he had ran from Buck and Wilma.  In one hand was a
standard issue laser pistol, in his other, the severed head of the
machine that Danton and the others had been examining.  Latimer
(looking somewhat the worse for wear) tossed the head to the ground
with disdain as it rolled to a stop near Danton's feet.  He knelt down
to examine it a closer range for a moment before returning his gaze to
Latimer, signalling for a medical orderly as he did.
     "Governor Latimer.  What exactly happened to you and how did you
get your hands on that gun?" Danton simultaneously interrogated and
greeted the Governor-designate.
     Latimer didn't respond immediately.  He was busy being examined by
the medical orderlies.  After treating a few cuts and abrasions on his
person they declared him to be fine, though he may be suffering from a
mild case of shock.  AS the soldiers continued to fan out, securing the
area and searching for survivors and any of those responsible that
might be lurking nearby, Latimer finally spoke.
     "I managed to evade capture by these things, they call themselves
Cylons incidentally, and when my companions made their escape, leaving
me along here I might add, many of the Cylons left in pursuit.  After
awhile, some returned, probably to try and capture me.  Fortunately for
me, I was ready for them."  Though he didn't elaborate further, there
was something about the way Latimer had said he was ready for these
so-called Cylons that troubled Danton.
     "Well sir, now that we've found you and pretty well moped up any
remaining resistance, I think we should arrange to get you back home to
Earth," Danton said, hoping he wasn't betraying his concerns for
Latimer as he made his suggestion.
     "Yes, I've got one or two things to do back on Earth," Latimer
agreed.  With that Danton indicated to the orderlies that they get
Latimer back to the shuttles and arrange to get him back to Earth ASAP.

     Buck and the others were shown into the chambers aboard the
Galactica used by the Quorum of Twelve promptly.  Buck and Wilma had
returned to the guest quarters where they had had their first decent
night's sleep since the whole incident had begun.  Although Buck had
the vaguest of memories of one of the dreams that he had the previous
night.  Possibly triggered by Sheba's descriptions in the Rejuvenation
Centre, Buck had dreamed of a Ship of Lights that had engulfed as he
flew through space aboard Ranger III.  Apollo, who was the one who
escorted them to the Quorum chambers had come for them at the allotted
hour and escorted them to the forward module of the Galactica's
dumbbell-shaped hull, which also contained the main Bridge.  The Quorum
chambers (they were used by the Galactica's senior staff when not used
by the Quorum as evidenced by the star map that dominated one of the
walls) was high-ceilinged with a large ovoid table with a dozen chairs
located around it akin to a latter-day Round Table straight out of
Camelot.  Seated around it were twelve men and women all middle-aged
and attired in similar toga-like robes, all except Adama who wore his
blue uniform with a matching cape attached to a chain around his neck. 
The image that really struck Buck however was the large, slightly
curved window, which currently sported a fine view of some of the ships
in the Fleet with the magnificent star field beyond it.  After a
moment, the group were allowed to come forward, walking up a couple of
steps to the table.
     "Members of the Quorum of Twelve, it gives me great pleasure to
introduce to you, Colonel Wilma Deering and Captain Buck Rogers of the
Earth Defence Directorate and Doctor Theopolus, Axi-official member of
the Terran Computer Council."  Apollo put more deference into his voice
than he felt as he made his introduction.
     "Bede, bede, bede, bede," Twiki said as he gently prodded Apollo
in the thigh.
     "Oh yes, and this is Dr. Theopolus' Drone, Twiki," Apollo added. 
The Quorum studied the group from earth somewhat poker-faced for some
time.  Buck wasn't sure whether they were in awe of them, or just
trying to think of something profound to say.  After a few awkward
moments, a member identifying himself as Sire Uri rose to his feet.
     "The chair recognises Councillor Uri,"  Adama said.
     "People of Earth, it gives me great pleasure to welcome each and
every one of you aboard the Battlestar Galactica.  The surviving
citizens of the Twelve Colonies of Humanity are pleased to make the
acquaintance of our brothers and sisters from the thirteenth of those
Colonies.  I'm sorry that we weren't able to greet you sooner, but
President Adama felt it important to ascertain certain facts about you
beforehand."  Uri shot Adama a withering glance as he added his dig at
the end of his introduction.  Had Apollo not warned them on their way
over what to expect and the controversy that his Father had generated
by keeping their existence secret, Buck might have been embarrassed to
witness Uri in action.
     "On behalf of the people of Earth, we welcome you to our region of
the galaxy and hope to become much closer in the future," Theo replied
on their behalf.
     Uri then proceeded to explain the plight of the Colonists to the
group, even though they had all heard it at least twice before.  It was
when explaining their current predicament that Uri went one step
further.  Uri turned to some controls set into the Council Table in
front of his chair and pressed one of the buttons.  A plethora of
holographic images appeared above the table depicting the situation as
it stood.  The Earth group saw images of squalor and deprivation aboard
the many ships of the Fleet, reminiscent to Buck of images from the
shantytowns located on the outskirts of major Third World cities in the
20th century.
     "Our population currently numbers approximately one million, but
it is rising swiftly.  In addition, as you know, a large Cylon battle
force lies ahead of us poised to strike."  Uri manipulated the controls
and changed the view to an image of three Cylon ships orbiting a
planet.
     "As we explained to your President last night, a sizeable force of
Earth fighters numbering almost two hundred should be on the other side
of those Cylons by now.  Providing we can get past them, we should be
able to persuade our people to help you repel the imminent Cylon
attack, particularly as you've explained to us that they wish to see
every single human exterminated," Wilma replied.  She didn't like this
Uri, but he seemed to have a way of getting people to do what he wished
of them.
     Uri nodded and turning to one of the people sitting next to him,
gave Wilma a data retrieval device.  "This should help you enlist the
support of you leaders.  It has images of our mutual ancestral home
world, Kobol as well as messages of goodwill to the leaders of your
world," Uri explained of the gift.
     Wilma and Buck nodded their heads slightly in thanks and at
Adama's nod, they were led out to the Launch Bay to begin their trip
back to Earth.
     As they were led out, Uri turned to Adama.
     "Regardless of whether they are able to get help from Earth or
not, you are to launch our assault at the Cylon blockade within two
days."  The friendliness that Uri had portrayed to the Terrans had
evaporated as he addressed Adama.
     "That won't be necessary.  We won't have to go after the Cylons. 
I've every confidence that now that they have a better idea as to our
location, an attack will be launched against us.  However, instead of
running and hiding as I would have had us do, we will defend ourselves
to the last.  If successful, we will be able to proceed with our
journey, though I might add, we will not prevail without help from
Earth," Adama responded.  He continued with his own feeling on the
subject.
     "I must point out that without those Terran reinforcements, it
would be a wasted gesture."
     "As you've explained constantly to any and everyone who'll listen. 
But I seem to recall that this ship still as three of it's four flank
missiles and an extra-large compliment of Vipers, numbering some two
hundred or so fighters.  To me that's more than enough."  That from
Siress Starla, one of the youngest Quorum members, just thirty yahren
old and allegedly Sire Uri's protege.
     "No it is not.  Baltar's force that stands against us, numbers
some three Baseships.  We would have no trouble dealing with a single
ship and it's fighters.  With the extra Vipers we have courtesy of the
Pegasus we might even be able to tackle two.  But I believe that Baltar
will send two ships against us and keep the third, his own, in reserve,
partly out of cowardice, and partly to finish off what's left of us so
as to take the credit," Adama vehemently corrected.
     "But if as you say, we might be able to tackle two ships, then his
keeping his own in reserve will only benefit us," Starla pointed out.
     "No, you misunderstand.  We might deal with two ships if we threw
everything we had at them.  The fact that there is a third out there in
reserve means that we have to keep some of our forces in reserve as
well.  In fact it's a brilliant plan if I may say so.  However, as I've
indicated, despite my reservations as to the course of action you wish
me to take, and which I wish noted for the record I disapprove of, I
will do as you ask."  Adama then rose from his seat to leave but was
motioned back down by Uri.
     "Very well, Adama.  We will do things your way, but if we believe
that you are interfering unduly in anyway, or if you attempt to use
your Presidential veto over our decision, we shall immediately impeach
you and reintroduce the decision which you will then be unable to veto
because of your impeachment."  Uri announced, leaving no room for doubt
as to his resolve.  From the way he framed his response, Adama could
tell Uri had expected this eventuality.  Adama could feel the blood
begin to rise in his body and he only just managed to keep his temper
in check.
     "I know my duty Sire Uri, both as President and
Commander-in-Chief, and as a Colonial Warrior.  I shan't let you any of
you down.  Nor will those fine men and women who serve aboard this ship
who will be risking their lives for this Fleet in the days and weeks to
come as they have done, tirelessly for these past six yahren."  With
that, Adama rose once more from the table and left Uri and the other
Quorum members looking at each other with uneasiness and guilt over
their behaviour.

     Apollo walked onto the Bridge, trying not to draw too much
attention to himself.  He was somewhat confused as to why his Father
had requested his presence on the Bridge at all he and three others
from his squadron were only centons away from launching an escort/decoy
mission to enable the Earth Starfighter to evade the Cylons.  He was
also reluctant to see his Father so quickly after their confrontation
the previous evening.
     "Father," Apollo said as he stepped on to the revolving, raised
dais containing the Commander's chair and 2nd Officer's post.
     Adama looked up at his son and rose from his seat, a smile
spreading on his face as he did.  The smile threw Apollo who
half-suspected he was on the Bridge to be given another dressing down
for taking Buck and Wilma to the Rejuvenation Centre.  It was clear
that Adama had other reasons.
     "I just wanted to wish you well on your flight, and have you relay
to our Earth siblings why good wishes before you and they leave." 
Adama held out his arm, which Apollo clasped firmly and held for
several microns before releasing it.  To Colonel Tigh, who was aware of
the current tensions between father and Son and now witnessed their
handshake, it was more than just Adama wishing Apollo well it was
reconciliation.
     "Thank you Father, and thanks," Apollo replied.
     There was an awkward moment of silence between the two men, which
Adama broke by asking after some of the mission's technical aspects. 
"The Earth fighter, will just about fit in a launch tube, but the techs
say it'll be tight.  I'm going to be taking Sheba, Boomer and Starbuck
to provide escort for Colonel Deering and her companions."
     Adama nodded in agreement at Apollo's response and once again
wished him well.  As Apollo, now smiling again, turned to leave, Adama
reminded him in a kindly voice, "And Apollo, this time don't try
engaging he Cylons this time unless absolutely necessary.  I want my
best Warrior back here and in command of that Viper force before the
Cylons unleash their attack."
     Apollo smiled up at his Father and, after pausing briefly at
Athena's station to receive her good wishes, left for the Bay.
     "What prompted that?" asked Tigh as he mounted the dais behind
Adama, who watched as Apollo left the Bridge.
     "The reasons for our dispute are now null and void.  He's going on
a very delicate and necessary mission and when he returns from it, if
he returns, there won't be much time for reconciliation before the
Cylon attack.  I just don't want any unresolved issues or feelings
between us going in to this fight.  That's one of my regrets over Zac,"
Adama said.
     "How?  Were there issues between you and Zac when he died?" Tigh
asked instantly regretting probing Adama on such a personal issue.
     "This may sound cliched, you know, two people have a falling out
and something bad happens to one or both of them before they can mend
their differences.  In Zac's case, I discovered the identity of his
then girlfriend who I believe he had lost his virginity to.  I didn't
approve of his choice of partner and the night before his death, we had
an argument, with him reminding me that he was a grown man and could do
what he wanted, when he wanted, with whomever he wanted.  I think
that's why he wangled Starbuck into letting him go in his place on that
patrol with Apollo, to prove to me as well as Apollo what a man he'd
become."
     "I see your point Adama.  But don't you think it might be bad luck
to do that?"
     Adama looked at Tigh and just smiled at him.  Corporal Rigel
speaking to Apollo's patrol over the radio then drew their attention to
the monitors.
     "Section twelve, Launch Bay Alpha, standby to launch Earth
Starfighter and four Viper fighter escorts."

     Down in the Bay Apollo's cockpit sealed around him as he
acknowledged the communique.  A tech gave his canopy a gentle tap with
his hand prompting Apollo to respond with thumbs up as he pressed
switches and buttons.  He then glanced over to his left and saw Boomer
in his Viper repeating the same procedure.  Apollo then looked to his
left, past the Earth ship in the next slot to Sheba and Starbuck's
ships.
     "Core systems transferring control to Viper escorts, launch when
ready," came Rigel's instruction.
     Apollo turned his head to the front and pressed the trio of engine
start up panels to his right, the engines building to their familiar
whine as he did.  As they reached their pinnacle, Apollo pressed the
'Turbo' button and rocketed down the launch tube out into space, the
other three fighters following behind.

     From their Starfighter, Buck and the others watched the last of
the vented exhaust gasses dissipate as their four escorts left the
ship.
     "Okay folks, we're the next one's up on the plate," Buck
commented.
     "Core control to Earth Starfighter, launch when ready," came the
Bridge Officer's command.
     "Roger, understand we're number one on the runway," came Buck's
response.  He looked at the launch tube ahead and then over each of his
shoulders at the fighter's delta wings.  The launch tube in front of
them was barely a third of the width and half the height of the launch
channels that he'd become accustomed to, seemingly shaped to match the
cross-section of a Viper rather than the box-shaped launch channels
elsewhere.  It was also dimly lit in comparison to the launch channels
back on Earth.  The maintenance people aboard the Galactica had made
careful measurements of the tube and the ship and said that there would
be sufficient clearance, but it would be close.
     "Well, let's show these people how we launch," Buck said at last. 
He lingered somewhat as he powered up the engines and grasped the
throttle lever with his left hand.  Closing his eyes he pushed the
lever forward.
     On the Bridge monitors, everyone watched, as with just a few
sparks fling from the wingtips as it shot through the launch tube, the
Starfighter was away.  There were more than a few cheers as the ship
cleared the Bay and caught up with its Viper escorts
     "They're on their way!" exclaimed Tigh.
     "It's all in their hands now.  And may the Lords of Kobol guide
and protect them," came Adama's reply.  As the ships vanished out of
range of the external monitor cameras, Adama and the rest of the Bridge
resumed their activities, preparing for the forthcoming Cylon
onslaught.
     The five fighter craft exited the Stargate into the system
occupied by Baltar's taskforce.  Everyone had their eyes locked on
their respective scanners looking for signs of approaching Cylon
interceptors as they moved ever deeper into the system and ever closer
to the gate that led to the Vyra system.
     "Colonial fighter craft in system, intercept."  The Command
Centurion aboard the lead ship of a Cylon Raider Phalanx ordered as the
ships continued on their way.
     "All right, this is where we say goodbye for now," Apollo said as
the Cylon force approached.  "It all rests on your shoulders Colonel,
Captain.  Good luck to you all," he added.  With that, the four Vipers
broke formation and began their decoy manoeuvres while Buck headed for
cover.
     "Remember, don't engage any of them unless there's no alternative.
We want to draw them away from the Terrans long enough for them to
escape," Apollo replied as he put his Viper into a very tight and
extreme climb.
     As he and the others carried on back towards the Stargate for
home, their turbos streaming ionised particles behind them as they
went, they all stared at their monitors watching the progress of the
Earth ship, hoping it would leave the system before they did.  At the
last moment, telemetry was lost at they right point and time, the
Warriors breathing a collective sigh of relief.
     "All right Blue Squadron well done.  They home and dry, let's go
home."
     The Vipers reformed and charged through the gate as the Cylon
pursuers first laser blasts began exploding around them, the Cylons
veering away from the gate at the last minute since they weren't
cleared to go through them.
     As the Starfighter entered the Vyra system, Buck reminded himself
rather forcefully that now wasn't a good time to think they were in the
clear.  There was a good chance there was still Cylons in the system,
and the reinforcements from Earth may not have arrived.
     "I've got multiple bandits on the 'scope Buck," Wilma announced
somewhat alarmed.
     Buck looked down at group of blips closing on their position.  The
Starfighter's repairs had not been extensive enough for them to take
the sip into combat, and considering the importance of getting through
to Earth with what they knew, Buck merely tightened his grip on the
joystick and continued onward.
     "Earth Starfighter, this is Major Duke Danton of the Second Force
of the Earth Defence Directorate, please confirm your identity."
     The two human occupants of the ship beamed with delight and Twiki
gave out a characteristic chirp.  "This is Captain Buck Rogers,
identifying myself as the pilot of Earth Recon One, over."
     "Glad to hear your voice Captain.  Whose with you?" he asked.
     "Colonel Deering and a pair of Quads.  Governor-designate Latimer
however, is unaccounted for."  Buck replied somewhat guiltily when he
mentioned Latimer.  In all that had happened, the Governor and his fate
had been forgotten somewhat.
     "Don't you worry yourselves about that.  The Governor is on Earth,
alive.  There's some people back there who got some questions to ask
you."  Never since his arrival in the 25th century had Buck been so
pleased to hear from some one as their ship rendezvoused with Danton
and his colleagues.

     Lucifer walked into Baltar's personal quarters.  He hated coming
here, finding it so ostentatiously human and materialistic, a weakness
which humans in general, and Baltar's fellow Pisceans in particular
seemed to suffer from.  Still he had taken some pleasure and
satisfaction from waking Baltar during a sleep period.
     "B y your Command."  Lucifer put a little more effort into
sounding sincere as Baltar greeted him wearing nothing but a towelling
robe.  Once during a similar incident, Baltar had been naked, that had
been most distressing for the IL Cylon.
     "What is it that you disturb me at this centar?" Baltar demanded.
     "Several Colonial fighters entered this system before being driven
away whence they came by our own ships.  We believe that they may have
been trying to plant another observation device in the system."
     "Our fighters didn't pursue them beyond the portal when they
chased them away?" Baltar asked concerned.
     "As per your instructions, our pilots veered away at the last
moment.  Though we have yet to locate the device they may have planted,
probably to warn them of our attack."
     "That matters not.  They can do nothing to stop us.  Is the battle
plan ready?"
     "It is.  We merely have to deploy our forces accordingly," Lucifer
replied.
     Wearing a broad, smug grin, Baltar ordered, "Then prepare the
attack.  We launch as soon as we're ready, and this time Adama is
finished."

Chapter Eleven

     Doctor Huer's face literally exploded into a jaw-stretching grin
as Buck, Wilma and the Quads were escorted into his office.  The Doctor
rose from behind his desk and greeted each of them in turn with
enthusiasm, his relief quite palpable.
     "It's so good to see you.  When Governor Latimer told us about how
you'd all got separated on Vyra we feared the worst.  Your return to
Earth is one of the few heartening events to have happened since the
whole Vyra affair began."
     Huer motioned for them to sit down and tell him what had happened. 
Buck, Wilma and Theo all took it in turns to explain the parts of what
had happened that they each felt best that they could convey.  When
they had finished their briefing, interspersed with comments from
Twiki,
     Huer sat back in his and replied,  "I would never have guessed it
could be possible.  If what you say is true it could revolutionise
everything we have ever learnt or believed about the origins of human
life and civilisation on this planet.  But do you think it is true?"
Huer asked.
     Buck leaned forward and placed a small holographic projector on
Huer's desk and pressed a button.  A pair of seemingly identical images
appeared on screen.  Each showing what appeared to be the three Great
Pyramids of Giza.  The only difference was that one of them looked as
though it had been pictured in twilight.
     "Care to identify these images Doc?" asked Buck with a know-it-all
look on his face.
     "Well, under normal circumstances I'd say these were images of the
Pyramids of Egypt.  But judging by that look on your face, I assume I'm
wrong," Huer replied.
     Buck pressed a switch on the viewer.  The twilight image of
Pyramids faded.  "This is an image of the Pyramids in Egypt.  The other
was of a collection of Pyramids in a city called Eden on a planet
referred to as Kobol.  It's from here that all the human race
originated," Buck revealed.
     "I assume that they and these Cylons who've been dogging their
trail for all these years, are the ones responsible for this
unauthorised Stargate activities?" Huer surmised.
     "Yes they've apparently been using some of the Stargates we
discovered in the Omega Nine sector beyond Vyra," Wilma confirmed. 
"The good news is that these Cylons can't come directly to Earth and
attack because they can't use the computer controls at the Gate to set
their destination.  Unfortunately, we can't bypass them because we
don't have the destination codes for those old Gates."  Wilma added.
     "And if we're to help these Colonials fight off the Cylons as we
promised them we'd try, we're going to have to get past their Task
Force," Buck reminded them.
     "Well that is going to be something of a problem Buck," Doctor
Huer began awkwardly.  He rose from his seat and began to pace back and
forth behind his desk.
     "But surely all you have to do is persuade the Computer Council or
our human leaders to support sending our reinforcements from Vyra to
assist.  After all as human beings we're already at war with these
Cylons even though we never knew it.  We'll be next if we don't make a
stand,"  Buck persisted.
     "I wish it were that simple Buck," Huer said, pausing in his
stride.  "The truth of the matter is that since his return to Earth,
Neil Latimer has tried to convince the powers that be that I'm to
blame.  Oh, he concedes that some of his family and friends would be
dead regardless of whatever I may have done or not done.  But he is
also still adamant that some would still be alive.  And further more,
that this whole thing could have been avoided if only I'd played things
differently a long time ago."  Huer resumed his pacing. 
     At that moment the door to Huer's office sighed open and without
waiting for permission, Latimer entered.  He was looking more composed
than when last Buck and the others had seen him on the surface of Vyra. 
He was immaculately dressed in official robes and what hair he had left
(he refused to undergo genetic treatments that would have prevented,
and more recently, prevented baldness), was neatly quaffed.  
     "Huer, I see your accomplices have returned, safe and well." 
There was a sneer in his voice as he looked at them.
     Buck and Wilma merely looked at him without showing emotion.  They
had heard Major Danton's report of how they had found Latimer and the
story he had been told by Latimer that had led to his being found.  How
Latimer had staggered around aimlessly narrowly avoiding Cylon patrols
until he found his Wife's remains.  The shock had somehow managed to
snap him back to reality and just in time for a handful of Centurions
arrived at that point in time.  Latimer had shot all of them and then
taking one of their ceremonial swords, decapitated one of them.
     Theo was the only one to say anything.  "It is good to see you
safe and well Governor Latimer.  I am sorry to hear of confirmation of
your loss, our thoughts go with you at this time."
     Latimer's face lost its sneer as he listened to Theo's
commiserations.  It was not enough however, to placate Latimer who
turned on Huer.
     "I've persuaded the Computer Council to convene a competency
hearing as a result of your mishandling of this situation.  It's
scheduled for tomorrow morning, 9.00 AM sharp.  I'll see that the one
responsible for this pays for their incompetence!"
     Buck upon hearing this finally had enough.  He turned on Latimer,
prepared to strike him if necessary if that's what it took to knock
some sense into him.  "It's not the Doc's fault, Governor," Buck
emphasised the word Governor.  "If you want to go after those
responsible for your wife and friends' death, may I suggest these
Cylons and a man named Baltar who seems to be pulling their strings?"
     "How dare you address me in those terms!" stammered Latimer. 
Shocked that someone would have the audacity in his eyes to chastise
him.
     Buck wasn't finished with him.  "If I were you, I'd bring forward
that Council session, and change it into a debate as to whether or not
we should render immediate full-scale military assistance to the
refugees from the twelve Colonies.  We've one hundred and eighty
Starfighters sitting on Vyra with no place to go and about a million
innocent people whose lives depend on us.  We may not have been able to
save those close to you from the Cylons, but we can sure as hell do
something for them.  So what's it to be, Governor?"  Buck once again
emphasised the man's title for effect.
     Latimer slowly turned from the others and squinted his eyes to
stop tears from welling up.  "What do you need from me?" he replied at
last.

     Buck, once more clad in the all-white uniform with the stiff
collar of the Earth Defence Directorate walked along the observation
walkway that girdled the main Launch Hanger, nicknamed 'Vultures' Row'
because of the number of people who would be lining the railings
watching ships come and go, and descended the steps to the main level. 
He walked briskly along the smoothly polished floor, making sure he
avoided stepping on the power cables that snaked between the handful of
ships in the Bay.  Wilma dressed in the same uniform as Buck and
cradling her helmet under her arm was in deep discussion with Doctor
Huer and Twiki and Theo.  They would occasionally laugh at a shared
joke, but as Buck grew closer, he could sense the anxiety they were
feeling.
     "Well I guess we're all here," Buck said as he stepped into line
beside Wilma.  Huer reached out and shook Buck's hand.
     "Good luck, Buck.  I hope you're successful, for all our sakes."
     Buck smiled at him.  "Don't worry Doc.  We'll get out to Vyra and
brief the pilots of Major Danton's force, then I'll go on and sneak
past the Cylons to help coordinate our efforts with the Colonials. 
Piece of cake."  Buck patted Huer's shoulder for emphasis.
     "Bede, bede, bede, Go get 'em, Buck," Twiki excitedly added.  Buck
tapped Twiki's head before he and Wilma climbed into a two seat
Starfighter nearby.  The launch, through one of they're own wide launch
channels this time, went smoothly.  But as the fighter picked up speed
and they travelled through the Stargate to Vyra, they knew that
everything else wouldn't necessarily go so well.
     Buck and Wilma's Starfighter cleared Vyra's cloud-tops almost
directly above the planet's capital.  He sight that greeted them on the
main airstrip at the City's aerodrome was heartening to say the least,
almost two hundred Starfighters in small clusters arranged in such a
way as to be able to scramble quickly if attacked from the air.  After
receiving permission o land, Buck brought the fighter down using it's
vertical thrust fields to land on a particular spot assisted by a tech'
with luminous batons.  Major Danton had established a makeshift command
post in the ruins of the aerodrome's control centre.  He looked up from
one of the screens as Buck and Wilma entered the room moving to them
and greeting each warmly.  Whatever rivalry had existed between Danton
and Buck when first they met had long since vanished.
     "I just got off the subspace commlink with Earth, we've just been
given the green light to go.  However, we don't launch yet because of a
problem," Danton said.
     "Basically the problem is this.  Those people we'll be going to
help aren't in the system, the Stargate here automatically leads to
they're in the one beyond it.  In between them and us are the three
Baseships of the Cylons, one of which was responsible for all this." 
Buck motioned to their ruined surroundings.
     "From what our Colonial friends can estimate, The Cylons' human
leader, a man named Baltar, will remain in that system with his
personal command ship, partly out of cowardice, partly in order to rush
to the battle when it's drawing to a close to administer the coup de
grase.  And lastly to cut us off, we don't have the firepower to get in
and deal with that ship and then go on to help out the Colonials,"
Wilma added.
     "I'm going to go on ahead and try and coordinate a plan with the
Colonials to change that.  Once we come up with them, I'll contact and
brief you via a special subspace communicator the Defence Directorate
gave us."
     "Just like Vistula, all over again.  I take it we can't just
simply leapfrog these Cylons and come out in the system controlled by
the Colonials?" Danton asked.
     Buck and Wilma shook their heads.  The Stargates in the systems
occupied by the Cylons and Colonials could only be reached by going
through each and coming out in the next system along.
     "Now then Duke, with Buck using our fighter, do you think I can
borrow one of yours?" Wilma asked.
     "No problem Wilma, I mean Colonel.  I think I can persuade one of
my pilots to give up his or her mount for the occasion, or at least let
you ride with them in the back seat."  Danton replied, a grin on his
face.

     "Galactica Core Control, this is Earth Starfighter One-one-seven,
Captain Buck Rogers piloting, requesting permission to embark," Buck
radioed as he approached the Colonial Fleet.  He had managed to
traverse the system occupied by Baltar's forces unobserved and then
through the other Stargate in the system to his destination.  He wished
there were some way to get the nearly two hundred-strong force from
Earth through as easily but knew it would not be possible.
     "Galactica Core Control to Earth Starfighter, you're cleared to
land in Landing Bay Alpha.  Welcome back, Captain Rogers," Corporal
Rigel responded.
     Buck eased the ship around, extending its undercarriage and
approached the port landing deck.  Unlike the last time, when Buck and
his companions had been whisked away in relative secret, a small group
was on hand to greet him.
     "Captain Rogers, it's good to see you so soon.  What news have you
for us?" Colonel Tigh asked as he clasped Buck's wrist.
     "Good and bad news Colonel.  We're willing to help you, we're just
not sure how.  Buck's first view of the Bridge was staggering it was
immense to say the least.  It was a multi-layered room with numerous
controls and stations, dominated by the forward window.
     "This is like the Bridge of the Starship Enterprise, only bigger!"
exclaimed Buck as Tigh led him in.
     "Is that the name of one of the ships you're sending to assist
us?" Commander Adama asked as he turned to greet Buck.
     "I wish it were Commander, but we will be sending all the fighter
craft from Vyra.  Or at least we'd like to," Buck said.
     "Is there a political or logistical problem?" asked Adama, concern
in his voice.
     "No, nothing like that.  It's as you feared Commander.  Your
friend Baltar is hanging back with his ship while his two pals are
preparing to come through the Gate.  One of the reasons I got through
here unmolested was because those two ships they're sending after you
are already on their way."
     "Frack!  Felgergarb!"  Adama exclaimed striking the nearby deck
railing with his fist in a rare display of anger.
     Apollo, who was also on the bridge walked over and calmed his
Father while the other Bridge crew resumed their stations with a
single, withering look from Colonel Tigh.
     "It seems, Buck, that with Baltar sitting pretty where he his,
it's going to look like that holiday you described to us when you were
here last.  What was it called again, 4th Julius?" Apollo remarked.
     "The 4th of July," Buck corrected.  As he did so, he faltered, the
expression on his face indicating that he'd had something of a
revelation.  With a mixture of anticipation and curiosity, those
surrounding Buck drew closer, expectantly.
     "July 4th, Independence Day, of course!  Commander, your
Lieutenant Sheba told me about a captured Cylon ship, do you still have
it?"  Buck asked matter-of-factly.

     The Quorum's Chamber was empty save for Buck and several Colonials
including Adama, Apollo, Starbuck and Doctor Wilker, the Chief
Technical Officer aboard ship.  Buck sat before them explaining his
plan, using rotating holograms of a Cylon Raider and a Basestar to
illustrate.  From what Adama could make out, the inspiration for Buck's
plan was from an entertainment called Independence Day, released a
decade after Buck left Earth.  In it a group of aliens ravaged Earth in
much the same way that the Cylons had done to the Colonies, yahrens
earlier.  Earth's decimated and comparatively primitive forces had been
able to mount a successful counter-offensive by using am alien craft
they had captured generations earlier to steal aboard the alien command
ship and plant a disruptive computer virus.  Hearing this story
reminded Adama of Apollo and Starbuck's successful infiltration of a
Basestar during their last great battle with the Cylons.  Adama
reasoned (quite correctly) that Sheba had imparted the story to Buck
during their conversations and that it had been as much an inspiration
for Buck's plan as his entertainment.
     "Anyway, we dock with Baltar's ship, from what you've told me,
Baltar will have patrols out covering the system he's in so he won't be
suspicious when we board his ship.  We then upload the virus I'd like
you to create," Buck indicated Doctor Wilker.
     "I've spent many of my off-centars over the last few yahren
working on such a thing, it'll be ready," he stated.
     "My concern is how do we get it aboard Baltar's ship?  Remember
the trouble we had last time Apollo?" Starbuck asked, clearly
concerned.
     "From what I've been told, these Cylons are linked with a central
computer system, a hive mind if you will.  The minute or centon, we
land, our Raider will be plugged in to that computer.  We then simply
upload the virus and hey presto, instant meltdown.  It's a pity we
didn't have more time and knowledge we might be able to come up with
something to wipe the lot of them out, all across the universe," Buck
answered.
     Everyone turned to Adama.  The Commander was silent for a few
moments before responding, "You launch first thing in the morning." 
With that Adama left, pausing only to inform the Hanger via
communicator to ready the captured ship.

     "Why does it have to be you again?  I can think of several
alternatives.  Bojay, or Sheba or that Flight Sergeant you were
flirting with at Pyramid the other day."  Cassiopeia rolled over in the
bed with her back to Starbuck.
     The Lieutenant lay in the darkness and silence of the room he had
started sharing with the med tech and said nothing for a moment. 
"Look, if you're worried about me dying if I go, don't be.  Sometime in
the next few Centari, all frack is going to break lose and the Cylons
are going to come at us all pulsars blazing.  It'll be no different if
I'm in a Viper or infiltrating Baltar's ship," he said at last. 
     "At least in a Viper, you have a chance.  But you'll be flying a
Cylon machine and you're not an expert."  Cassiopeia wasn't entirely
convinced.
    Starbuck smiled and rolling over began to slowly and sensuously
pepper her spine with kisses, at first she failed to respond, but
eventually began to loosen up.
     "Well for what it's worth, if successful, we'll rocket back here
with the Earth people.  Apollo and I will get into our Vipers and join
the party if there's anything left to blast of course.  Or at least
that's the plan."
     "Just don't come back with any beautiful female prisoners," she
warned reminding Starbuck of the concern she'd held the last time he'd
intended to sneak aboard a Cylon ship.
     Turning to face her, Starbuck smiled, and wiping away tears that
had formed in her eyes replied, "This time we won't even be leaving the
ship.  Besides with Captain Rogers in the command seat, there wouldn't
be any room."
     Cassiopeia broke into a giggle and practically launched herself at
her lover, spending the rest of the night showing Starbuck at first
hand why she had been considered among the best socialators among the
Gemonese.

     Apollo sat on the floor of his quarters with Boxey, playing about. 
The boy was getting a little old for the kind of horsing around that
they were doing, but it was all in good fun.  Sheba (who practically
lived with them) looked on at her future Husband and Stepson from a
crack in the bedroom door and giggled to herself at the sight of
arguably the best Colonial warrior extant fooling about pretending to
be a dragon.  She removed her silken robe and climbed back into the
otherwise empty bed and drew the bedclothes up tight, the way she'd
done when she was a young girl back on Gemon.  After a few minutes, the
noises from the other side subsided and Apollo crept back to bed,
pausing to remove his own clothes.
     "One of these days he's going to be able to take me," he remarked.
     "Either that, or you'll give up being a pilot and take up acting,"
Sheba retorted.
     Apollo merely laughed at the suggestion.  "That would have pleased
my Mother.  She always felt that I was the artist of the family.  Zac
and Athena, they were Warriors, right off the recruitment
transmissions, but me, I was the one who'd follow her example."
     "Well, once we've driven away Baltar's taskforce and settled on
Earth or one of her Colonies, maybe you'll get your chance."
     Unlike many people, Apollo and Sheba didn't feel it was tempting
fate to speak of such things.  If they were going to die the following
day, then that was that.  When, prior to falling asleep in each other's
arms, they made love, it was not some frantic 'this could be our last
night together' affair, but something slow and erotic, a taste of
things to come, after the battle on the morrow.

     Commander Adama strode onto the Bridge, the epitome of a great
Warrior.  The previous evening he had been standing in the Quorum
Chamber alone, or so he thought.  He had seen Buck reflected in the
main window's glass and turned to face him.
     "Touring the ship before the battle?" Buck had queried.
     Adama had raised an eyebrow prompting Buck to Explain about the
tradition of touring the ship before the battle sighting such examples
as a man called Nelson before a battle at a place called Trafalgar
almost seven centuries earlier.  As Adama climbed to his command
pedestal, he clutched in his hand a data PADD containing the text of a
book Buck said he would interesting even though much of the evidence to
support the theory within was in Buck's words 'half-baked.'  The book
was called 'Chariots of the Gods?' be Erich Von Daniken.  Adama had
thanked Buck for the book and the two had retired to bed.  Everyone on
the Bridge looked fresh and rested, ready for the day's events, for
they all knew that before the day's end, the Cylon's would make their
move.  Adama sat at his station and briefly entertained giving a
rallying speech to the troops.  He chose against it for fearing to
pressurise those under him with undo expectation.  He merely turned to
Lieutenant-Colonel Omega and gave his first order of the day.
     "Launch the Cylon fighter."

     "Here we go," Starbuck said as he and Apollo simultaneously
punched the engine ignition buttons on the ship.  As one Buck, Apollo
and Starbuck were pressed back in their seats as the ship shot out of
the Bay.  Within moments the fighter executed a perfect roll and shot
ahead of the fleet.  Minutes later, it was gone through the Stargate.
     As the space warp effect of the Gate subsided and the four sentry
posts that marked each corner of the Gate faded in intensity, they
flared again, the effect lasting longer.  When it faded this time, two,
large menacing, saucer-shaped craft cruised silently forward.  From
Hanger Bays within their hull, doors opened like the drawbridge of a
space age castle and wave after wave of ellipsoid attack craft pored
forth, quickly assuming a deadly formation.

Chapter Twelve

     "Commander, scanners indicate two large ships have just traversed
the Stargate and are approaching at speed.  Further more they are being
preceded by almost six hundred smaller craft," Omega reported from his
position at a console at the base of the command dais on the Bridge.
     "Sensors confirm, multiple-three passenger vehicles," Athena added
from her own post.  Adama didn't need the ship's sensors to tell him
what was about to happen and who they were.
     "Cylon attack craft.  So they've finally come for us."  He rose
from his seat, and with Colonel Tigh in tow, proceeded over to the star
map at the rear of the Bridge to get a better look at what they were
facing.  All the while Adama was concerned, though he made sure that he
didn't show it in front of the people on the Bridge.  At times like
these he was something of a rock for them all to form around.
     "Battle stations!" he said at last after staring at the map for a
few moments.  All around him everyone went into a well-practiced
routine, after all, the attack was hardly unexpected.  All the lights
throughout the Galactica turned red and claxons blared all around.
     "Positive shield now, Launch fighters!" Adama added as he and Tigh
bounded up the steps of the command dais like men half their ages.  The
junior officer currently manning the console directly in front of
Adama's seat began depressing switches which lit up when pressed,
closing the blast shield in front of the main window on the Bridge and
activating the many, double-barrelled laser turrets studding the ship. 
     "Enemy approaching, range one hundred microns and closing." 
Corporal Rigel began a running commentary on the progress of the Cylon
taskforce.  On one of her monitors she could see a three-dimensional
grid representing space with representations of the Cylon attack
formation and their two Baseships with 'CONDITION RED' flashing on and
off the screen, chirping as it did so.

     "Oh frack!  They've launched their attack already!" exclaimed
Starbuck as he began to take evasive action.  As the captured Cylon
Raider emerged from the Stargate into the system controlled by the
Cylons, its occupants came face to face with the Armada on their way to
destroy the Colonial Fleet.
     "You know, I figured we had at least another centar to play with,
maybe even two before they launched their attack."  Starbuck was
clearly as despondent as Apollo and Buck were both feeling.  When
Doctor Wilker had finally given them the completed computer program
that would disrupt operations on Baltar's ship, he had warned them that
it could take time to gain access to the ship's computers.  Now, it was
clear to Starbuck and his partners in crime that they were not going to
have much time at all to upload the program.  With that in mind, once
he was sure that they had evaded the Cylon Baseships, Starbuck resumed
course for Baltar's ship.
     "Won't they be suspicious about a lone fighter coming aboard ship
whilst everyone else is in battle?" Buck asked.  Though the instigator
of the whole plan he fully acknowledged that there could be problems
with it.
     "If Baltar's true to form, he'll have sent out numerous patrols to
cover himself in case your people show up en masse.  We'll simply claim
to be from one of those patrols and require maintenance," Apollo
replied.  He looked down at the scope in front of him and quickly
located a group of Raiders on patrol amidst some asteroids.
     "Got 'em.  A patrol about thirty million kilometrons to port. 
That'll be our cover."  Apollo's relief at finding cover was clearly
audible to his colleagues who all breathed their own sighs of relief. 
The craft flew on for a little while longer before coming up on
Baltar's ship floating serenely in orbit of the same gas giant as
before.
     "Ready?" Apollo asked Buck.
     "No, but in our profession, ready is a luxury.  Let's do it," Buck
responded, flicking switches on the console, that, when Buck
communicated with the Cylons would show the image of a Centurion and
disguise Buck's voice accordingly.

     Rupa, a gold-plated Command Centurion looked down at the readout
showing an approaching Raider preparing to embark aboard the ship. 
Though emitting an older ident-code, the ship did hail from the
Basestar.
     "Raider, identify yourself and state the reason for your return."
     "This is Raider Omega Nine."  Buck felt somewhat vulnerable at the
thought that the Cylon he could see on his video screen, and whom he
was now conversing was staring at and listening to a human being.  Buck
nevertheless persisted in his playacting.
     "We are returning to deal with a malfunction aboard."
     "You are cleared to land in Bay Three.  We shall guide you in,"
the Cylon replied.  Moments later, the three humans found that control
of the Raider was no longer theirs.

     The moment the Red Alert sounded, the usual mad scramble was made
by the pilots of the Battlestar's Viper squadrons for their fighters,
people who had been sitting at tables in the ready rooms playing
Pyramid or Seven-Eleven, or pilots lounging on their bunks suddenly
grabbed their helmets and whatever and by the light of the red glow,
made their way to the trams that would take them to the Hanger Deck
nacelles.  Boomer hit the deck of the Port, Alpha Launch Bay running as
soon as the lift settled on it, followed by a cluster of pilots.  He
bounded up the stepladder aside his Viper and assisted by his flight
crew, strapped in and put his helmet on, the reading lights coming on
as his canopy lowered itself.  In a scene repeated in quick succession,
some fifty times by other Warriors over in the ship's port and
starboard Bays, Boomer powered up his ship and pressed the 'Turbo'
button to launch, being slammed back in his seat by the sudden
acceleration as he rocketed down the launch tube into space.
     "Launch all remaining Vipers," Rigel commanded the launch crews
over the system-system.
     Normally a Battlestar would only carry between one hundred and one
hundred and fifty Vipers, with number the Galactica carrying during the
opening months of the exodus from the Colonies steadily dropping to
less than one hundred at one point.  Then the Foundry ships had come on
line and, following the Galactica's brief encounter with the Pegasus
and the transfer of her remaining Vipers, that number was now two
hundred.  Even though the Battlestar's Launch and Landing Bays had been
modified when the ship had undergone repairs following the attempted
Cylon suicide strike after Gommoray to accommodate the extra ships and
their crews, the order to launch the remaining ships was gentle
encouragement to the flight crews to do so.
     "Sir they're off!" Omega reported.
     "All fighters launched Sir!" Tigh relayed to Adama.
     "Any sign of our Earth siblings' fighters?" Adama asked.
     "Negative, Sir."  Tigh attempted to keep the disappointment from
his voice.
     "Cylon attack force closing to killer range Father," Athena
announced.
     Adama upon hearing this closed his eyes and made a silent prayer. 
The only sounds that now filled the Bridge were that of crewmembers
issuing orders or verbally relaying information.
     "Core systems transferring targeting scanners to Viper fighters,"
Rigel informed the Viper pilots, relieved that they were taking control
themselves.  The young flight controller remembered a shocking
experience early in her career when providing targeting control for a
rookie pilot who's own targeting scanners were down, the Viper had been
shot down by Cylons whilst she and the pilot whom she knew had been in
mid-conversation.  Now at least she would only being haring the
Warriors and not talking to any single one of them.

     The interceptors all left their Bays in record time, though for
those whose lives depended upon it, it probably seemed to take longer
than hoped.  Within moments of the last Vipers leaving the ship, the
force assumed formation ahead of the Fleet heading toward the Cylons. 
The Vipers swooped down upon the Cylon forces whilst the Cylons
continued to snake and weave their way through space en masse.  The two
opposing formations did not remain that way for very long.  When
Corporal Rigel announced over their radios that the enemy was only
twenty microns out from the Fleet, they broke formation.  Their turbos
once more flaring, Vipers broke and banked left and right whilst others
pealed downwards in hopes of catching the Cylons from odd angles. 
Lieutenant Bojay, Silver Spar's leader with two of his pilots following
hard on his tail headed for a large group of Cylons that had maintained
course and were headed for the Galactica.  There were about eight
Raiders in the group that was continuing on and Bojay was determined to
get them all before they could cause any damage.  He activated his
targeting computer and watched as the first Cylon entered his sights. 
He promptly pulled the trigger and the ship disappeared amid a hail of
laser fire.  As he did so, his two wingmen each blasted away at the
section, until with only two of the Raiders left, the Cylons began to
change course back to the main group of Cylons.
     "Oh no you don't!" Bojay muttered to himself.  He pulled his Viper
into a high-G turn and, levelling out, closed on the two ships.  He
glanced down from his attack scanner and back to the Cylons, then back
to the scanner as he closed for the kill.  Once satisfied that he had
at least one in his sights, he pressed the 'Fire' button and watched
the Raider to port blow up.  Its companion began to bank to starboard,
but several laser streaks from Bojay's ship seemed to follow it and, as
they connected with the ship, it exploded.  Even as Bojay and his
colleagues headed back into the main battle, the Silver Spar leader
couldn't help but compare their current predicament to history files
he'd studied in school of trained daggits leading wool-bearing mammals
into pens on farms from whence they would be taken to be slaughtered
for food.  This time instead of daggits it was almost six hundred
Raiders, and a pair of Basestars.  Instead of pens there was the
passageway ahead, and instead of a slaughterhouse, there was at least
another Basestar.
     Boomer, in Apollo and Starbuck's absence, the head of Blue
Squadron, lead several Vipers in an arc down towards the rear of the
main group of Cylons.  Coming in behind them he promptly sized up a
Raider and unleashed a volley of laser fire at it.  No sooner had the
fragmentary remains of the craft dispersed than there was a tremendous
explosion to port that rocked his ship.  Boomer wasn't sure exactly
what had happened out there, there were so many daggitfights going on
that he thought he'd collided with another ship.  A cry of exultation
over the radio from one of his companions told him otherwise.  The
computer automatically relayed the communication between Vipers from
the direction the communicating ship was located so that Boomer simply
had to turn his head to the direction of the sound.  As he did he saw a
patch of space that seemed to be on fire where moments earlier there'd
been a quartet of Raiders in close formation.
     "I scragged the whole fracking lot with a single volley!  There's
just so many of them out here, you can't miss!" the young pilot
remarked.
     Those words took Boomer back momentarily to the battle of
Gommoray, and a similar thing Starbuck had said when they went up
against a vastly superior Cylon force.  Boomer was dragged back to the
present however when, as his group came upon the Galactica, he spied a
trio of Vipers in trouble.  Three Cylon Raiders in their obligatory
triangular formation were bearing down upon them, one a golden-coloured
Raider that denoted a Command ship.  Boomer watched with a feeling of
frustration and anger as the Cylons blew two of the Vipers to pieces
whilst the third was damaged as it made a sweeping turn to starboard,
the golden Raider breaking formation and continuing to pursue the
Viper.
     "Bronze Leader to Blue Leader.  I've lost Tyree, lost Touch," came
the frantic call to Boomer.
     "I copy Bronze Leader," Boomer replied as he attempted to zero in
on the golden Raider.
     "They came from, behind."
     At that moment Bronze Leader's Viper began another evasive
manoeuvre, this time to port.  The pursuing Raider began to close on
the ship and as it turned, emitted numerous cobalt-blue laser pulses
that snaked into the Viper's lower port engine, reducing the fighter
and its occupant to ashes.  Boomer did not like that and set off in
almost wild pursuit of the Cylon.  The Raider had simply headed back
into the thick of the fight heading towards the Rising Star.  With
Boomer in hot pursuit, the two fighters bobbed and weaved between
vessels of the Fleet and fighters from both sides engaged in their own
daggitfights.  On at least one occasion during the chase, Boomer was
even able to destroy or damage a Raider that strayed into his sights,
but for him, the battle was just between him and the golden Raider. 
He'd known the Bronze Squadron leader for yahrens.  He was the first
Warrior who'd never served aboard the Battlestar Pegasus, the
squadron's traditional home to assume command of the squadron.  Before
he'd transferred to Bronze, he'd been a popular member of Blue Squadron
and would be sorely missed.  At last the Raider performed a manoeuvre
that allowed Boomer to get into firing range.  Once he did so, he sent
an extra volley of laser shots into the craft, which immediately
exploded.  Intellectually, Boomer reasoned that he had fired so many
laser blasts as the Raider's extra shielding necessitated such action. 
But as Boomer returned to rendezvous with the group of Vipers he'd just
been flying with, he acknowledged that it had been anger that was the
true reason, it made him sad.  He was further saddened when he
rendezvoused with the others he'd been with, only to realise that
though he'd been gone at most a centon, that's all it had taken for the
Cylons to take out two of his companions.
     "We can't keep this up much longer," he admitted to himself.

     On the Galactica's Bridge, the senior crew were drawing similar
conclusions.
     "Silver Spar's being decimated Commander," Omega reported from his
post.
     Adama and Tigh, both standing on the command dais, were looking
over Omega's shoulder at the numerous display screen showing the battle
via scanners and cameras scattered throughout the Fleet.  It didn't
look good.  Behind them in the blood-red light of the battle lighting,
smoke rose from a corner and wafted through the Bridge, a reminder of a
collision with a Cylon Raider that had managed to successfully evade
the Vipers and the Galactica's laser turrets to impact on the ship's
hull.
     "What's keeping our Earth siblings this long?  Have they decided
to abandon us?"  Adama was beginning to voice his doubts over the
situation.
     "More than likely, either our infiltration team failed, or have
yet to carry out their mission," Tigh replied, their attention diverted
back to the screen as they saw one of the Agro-ships take a direct hit
from a Cylon suicide attack.

     The last Starfighters had lifted off from the Aerodrome on Vyra
and had assumed a near stop in space just before the opening of the
Stargate that led to the Cylon taskforce.  Major Danton was feeling
especially annoyed as he glanced down to his fuel level indicator.  The
indicator, a computer-generated two-dimensional bar-graph, showed him
to be two thirds full, which if they were simply going to intercept the
Cylons in the system up ahead, wouldn't be too bad.  The problem was
that they would be going through that entire system to another Stargate
at the other end of the system.
     "How are you holding out Major?"  Danton looked over his shoulder
as he heard Wilma's voice.  He watched her starfighter slide into
formation over his starboard wing, the craft bobbing about gently like
corks on a pond.
     "Before I answer that Colonel Deering, request permission to speak
to you on the command frequency?" he answered.
     Wilma agreed and the two pilots changed to the desired frequency. 
"What's wrong Duke?" Wilma asked.
     It was still a source of discomfort for Danton to relate to Wilma
as his superior Officer since she was the younger and arguably
least-experienced of the two.  At one point it had destroyed a romantic
relationship they had enjoyed since their Academy days, and was only
resolved to a satisfactory degree after the food poisoning affair on
Vistula.
     "Our waiting out here like this is what's wrong Wilma," Danton
retorted.  "As much as I have faith in Buck to pull something out of
the bag, I can't help but get the feeling there's going to come a point
where we either turn back and refuel, or go through the Gate and take
our chances on the other side."
     "You've got a good point Duke, but for now let's give Buck a
little longer."
     "Okay, but whilst you may outrank me, I'm in charge of this
operation and if I decide w go on or go back, then that's the way it'll
be."  Before returning to the general frequency, Wilma reluctantly
agreed.

     The walls and ceiling of Baltar's Throne room had changed.  No
longer were they walls of the chamber, no they resembled a great
Planetarium.  Along every wall space was projected a panoramic view of
space.  Culled from real-time sensor feeds and warrior eye views of the
battle, Baltar enjoyed a God's Eye view of the proceedings.  Lucifer
who occasionally entered the room to augment the information that
Baltar was seeing also happened to look up at the projections.
     "They haven't a chance, have they Lucifer?" Baltar gloated.
     "Correct, Baltar.  Though at the moment we are also taking heavy
casualties, I can report that as much as a quarter of the Colonial
Viper force has been eliminated.  The ships of the Colonial Fleet are
relatively intact, though our pilots are treating them as secondary
targets of opportunity."
     "And our forces?  You mentioned something to me about there being
heavy casualties?"  Baltar was suddenly anxious.  He had no qualms of
joining the battle once the outcome was beyond question.  But so long
as his life would be in potential danger, it was a different matter
entirely, though he would argue he was deterring potential military
interference from Earth.
     "Neither Basestar has been attacked but we have lost about a fifth
of our force," Lucifer informed Baltar who promptly began making mental
calculations as to the forces left at his disposal.
     "We sent five hundred and eighty fighters and two Basestars. 
Approximately one hundred have been destroyed.  That means that at
current rate, once the Vipers have been taken care of, there'll still
be over two hundred fighters of ours left.  And both Basestars with
which to deal with the Galactica and her so-called Fleet."

     "Frack!" Starbuck exclaimed as the panel on Buck's control console
sparked.  Apollo and Buck who with weapons drawn, were both covering
the main hatch of the ship set into its floor, looked up.  They'd been
at this for ten minutes since they had been given permission to land
and had done so.  As the ship had landed, the craft's computers had
integrated itself with the main Cylon network.  From there it should
have been simple.  It wasn't or at least it wasn't so far.  As the
craft landed, the Centurion who had first spoke to them and was
identified as Rupa contacted them again.
     "What is your operational status?"
     "We had a slight weapons malfunction, but we're all fine now thank
you.  How are you?"  Buck slipped back into the role of 'Cylon
Centurion' with the aid of the electronic disguise.
     "We are sending a Phalanx up to assist you," Rupa informed them. 
It was not open to debate.
     "Uh, negative, negative.  We've a reactor leak up here, largely
very dangerous.  Give us a few, uh centons, to lock it down," Buck had
replied getting a sense of deja vue as he spoke.  Finally Buck had
turned the communicator off, muttering to himself that it had been a
boring conversation anyway.
     That led to their current predicament.  A group of Centurions were
on their way down, with Buck and Apollo, lasers poised, standing guard
at the door.  Starbuck meanwhile seemed to be getting nowhere fast.
     "In this Independence Day you told us about Buck, how long did it
take that computer genius to download his virus into the alien computer
system?" Starbuck asked a he paused to wipe sweat from his brow before
sticking his head beneath the console once again.
     "He got it first time to get in to the system and about a minute
or two to infect the computer," Buck answered.
     "That's entertainment for you.  This is reality," Starbuck scoffed
at the film.  He made some initial changes.  When it had become
apparent that he was going to have to make some physical alterations to
the computers in order to bypass Cylon security protocols, he realised
that it was a race against the clock what with the Cylon attack already
on the verge of beginning as they entered the system.  Starbuck tried
not to think about what was happening to fiends like Boomer and Jolly
as well as loved ones like Cassiopeia and Athena.  And Noday and Miriam
and...  Starbuck had always had a knack with computers.  When he had
reached an age when (fortunately and not a moment too soon for the
powers that be) Starbuck could leave the orphanage he'd been confined
to after the Cylon attack on Umbra that had left him an orphan,
Starbuck had embarked on a brief spree of petty crime.  Nothing
violent, no armed assaults or anything like that.  Starbuck would enter
computer systems, either by cracking passwords or as he was doing now,
physically enter them and bypass security, siphoning off modest amounts
of currency into accounts belonging to non-existent people.  His luck
finally ran out after almost a yahren when he'd gotten greedy and
decided to pilfer a large amount of currency from a wealthy Piscean
trader.  He had been caught by private security specialists from
Scorpia and led away to prison.  Starbuck always viewed that as a pity,
had he managed to succeed then maybe the Colonies wouldn't have been
decimated, for the trader had been none other than Baltar himself. 
Upon capture and conviction, Starbuck had been given a choice, go to
prison, or, considering the relatively minor nature of the charge, join
up and be a Colonial warrior with the added incentive of having his
criminal record purged if, after five yahrens service, he had proved
himself as a Warrior.  Starbuck had taken it and the rest was history. 
His timing was also appropriate for had he tried to rob Baltar a few
yahren later when he had become a Quorum member, the results may have
been disastrous.
     "I got it.  We're in!" Starbuck suddenly announced, reappearing
from beneath the console.
     "In the nick of time," Buck replied, pointing out the windows at
the group of Cylon Centurions that had entered the Bay and were moving
towards the ship.  Starbuck wasted little time in downloading the
computer virus.
     "Come on, come on," Starbuck kept muttering to himself over and
over as the virus began to work it's way into the Cylon systems.  So
annoying had his muttering become that at one point, Apollo told him
firmly but politely to shut up.  Finally it gave a ping.
     "I think that's our cue to leave," Buck replied as the three
resumed the seats they had been in during the flight.
     The next few minutes would be important.  The first act of the
virus would be to open one of the Hanger doors long enough to allow the
stolen Raider to leave and then lock and close.  The virus would then
disable, communications, weapons and, if not propulsion outright, at
least reduce the Basestar to an embarrassing crawl.  As soon as they
were strapped in they flicked some switches and the craft lifted off. 
It then rotated one hundred and eighty degrees and prepared to fly out
of the Hanger, all the time laser shots rang out from the approaching
group of Centurions.

     In the control centre adjacent to Baltar's Throne Room, Lucifer
and Rupa were engaged in electronic commune in order to determine the
latest news from the battle.  The next thing they knew, there were
disturbing reports from the Hanger deck of a lone fighter that had
returned to the ship from patrol for repairs, preparing to leave. 
Lucifer was instantly alerted but before he could give a single order,
the lights in the control room flickered for a moment, and then went
out altogether.  Soon the only illumination in the room came from the
red eye sensors of the Cylons and a few computer screens that had not
also faded.  The Cylons of all types, Centurion, IL, all looked at each
other and then to the screens that had gone blank.  Had they been
humans or had a human cardiovascular system, they may have jumped with
fright as all of a sudden a small human skull with a pair of crossed
bones beneath them appeared on the screen.  The jaw dropped and raised
a few times laughing maniacally as it did.  It was then that Lucifer
began having doubts about the Cylon Empire prevailing over humanity
that day.

     "You know, if that virus doesn't kick in pretty soon, we'll end up
like a grilled cheese sandwich," Buck announced.
     The three men all looked at the door in front of them, waiting for
it to open.  After what seemed an eternity it did, but the moment it
had opened, it began to close again.  Whether that was because of the
virus coming on line, or the Cylons attempting to prevent their escape
was unclear, but they hit the craft's retros, and with inches to spare,
escaped through the rapidly closing door into the ebony void.
     "All right, lets contact the Earth forces on the other side of the
Gate," Buck replied, reaching for the communicator.
     "Shouldn't we wait to see if that virus has worked first?" Apollo
asked.
     "Apollo, we've got no choice but to try.  At this very moment, a
lot of good buddies of ours are being cut down, God alone knows what's
going on there," Starbuck said to Apollo.  He then glanced up at Buck
and added, "Though I don't know how we'll keep your people from blowing
us to Sagan and back.  Our own people know not to shoot because we've
rigged this thing to emit a red dot on our attack scanners."
     "I've got a plan, Lieutenant.  I'll try something that I used
before,"  Buck answered as he reached for a communications device
attached to his belt.
     "This is Quin-centennial man to the Terran All-stars.  The
Quarterback has been sacked.  You're cleared to make a touchdown." 
Starbuck and Apollo each took a moment out of trying to evade Cylon
pursuit to look at Buck and then each other has he made his remark.

Chapter Thirteen

     "This is Quin-centennial man to the Terran All-stars.  The
Quarterback has been sacked.  You're cleared to make a touchdown." 
Buck's code phrase giving them the word that they could come through
had an immediate effect of relief mixed with a desire to get on with
the job at hand.
     "Okay boys and girls, this is what we've been waiting for.  Let's
go," Danton signalled his group.
     Each of the assembled pilots, Wilma included, pointed their
fighters in the direction of the Stargate and flung the throttles full
open.  In a standard formation of four rows of Starfighters stacked up
to form a box, the force moved through the Gate and into the
Cylon-controlled system.

     "Apollo, I'm getting approximately two hundred contacts on the
scope!"  Starbuck stared down at the sensor platform on his side of the
control console in the Cylon fighter.
     "Could it be pursuers from the Basestar?" he asked, concern
discernable in his voice.  If it was Cylon pursuit, then it could only
mean that the virus hadn't caught hold.
     "I don't know, but we'll be converging on their position in a
matter of microns.  Whoever they are, they're in a hurry."
     Buck leaned over their shoulders and tried to see what they were
looking at.  "Can you identify what they are?"  he asked.
     "Perhaps, but I don't really know how these things work.  I can
get a clearer image though."  Starbuck manipulated the controls
slightly and what they all saw filled them with hope.  Danton's Relief
Force in all its glory sweeping through the stars towards them.
     "Head straight for them, Captain," Buck replied, as he reached for
the communicator.

     "I've an incoming bandit on a convergent heading."  A Lieutenant
called Ripley informed Danton.  He and Wilma and many of the others in
the group looked down and studied their scopes.  What they saw on there
they didn't like the look of.
     "It's one of those Cylon Death machines," Danton voiced what
everyone in the force knew.
     "Duke, this is Buck."  A voice suddenly filled everyone's
headsets.  "I'm in the Cylon ship that's approaching you fast together
with a couple of Colonial pilots."
     "If your Buck Rogers, what year did Carl Lewis win the one hundred
metres at the Summer Olympics?"  Danton had an air of caution and
suspicion as he asked his question.  Wilma giggled as she heard him.
     "Los Angeles, 1984, he was one of the sports personalities I told
you about back on Vistula when we were trekking through the Sea of
Stone," Buck replied.
     "Then what are you waiting for Captain?  Get in line," Danton
replied with humour and relief in his voice.  As Buck's Cylon craft
drew alongside and the group passed near the Cylon Basestar, Danton's
voice changed to one of concern as he asked,
     "Is that thing out of commission?"
     "We'll know in a minute Duke.  The Stargate's coming up,"  Buck
replied trying not to betray the doubts and concerns he felt.

     Baltar looked on in frustration and fury as he stared at the
panoramic view before him.  Running as it was, on a separate system, it
was unaffected by the computer meltdown that had afflicted the ship and
apparently rendered it useless.  The Wall now showed the system they
were in rather than the battle with the Colonial Fleet.  As Lucifer
entered to give Baltar an update on their predicament, he too glanced
up to see the column of Earth Defence Directorate Starfighters heading
towards the Stargate.  To make matters worse, the Earth fighters seemed
to be teasing them by idly strolling by in formation, knowing that the
Cylons couldn't come after them.  For an irrational moment or so,
Lucifer thought of suggesting that they ram them with what little speed
they could muster in their present condition.  But he soon realised
that it would be futile to make the suggestion.  Baltar would veto it
on the grounds that it endangered his life and Lucifer knew it wouldn't
work because the Earth ships would simply scatter like insects before a
person with a fly swat.
     "Report."  Baltar's voice had lost its megalomaniacal, arrogant
edge of that morning.  Now it was the sound of a man who has had
something dear to them taken away, possibly forever.
     "Good news, Baltar.  We can still manoeuvre and move in space and
our experts say that in a matter of centars we should be fully
operational once more.  However our weapon systems are down as are our
shield and we cannot launch any fighters."
     "And the cause of this sudden affliction?"
     "Just prior to the computer crash, a lone Raider boarded the ship
claiming to be suffering from a slight weapons malfunction.  It's ident
codes were old, but checked out.  Nevertheless, there were some odd
communications exchanged between it and our controllers.  As a Phalanx
of Centurions arrived in the Bay to investigate, the computer crash
occurred and the craft escaped."  Both Baltar and Lucifer realised
where the Raider had come from, though they didn't want to admit it. 
Baltar, because it exposed his working with his fellow humans against
the Cylons, and Lucifer because in spite of his suspicions he had not
acted upon them in time.
     "Shall we enter the battle zone Baltar?  Though we cannot
contribute any fighters or weapons, we could still ram the Galactica in
a suicide attack."  Baltar didn't bother to answer Lucifer's suggestion
with a denial he merely turned his head slowly until it faced his
associate.  When he spoke, it was a soft, deflated voice that answered
from deep within his soul.
     "Withdraw at our best speed, whilst we still can."  Lucifer would
have cocked his head in confusion had he been anatomically capable of
doing so.
     "But we can make some contribution at least," he pleaded.  When
Baltar spoke once more, it was with real fire and passion.
     "I said withdraw!  By the time we arrive on the scene, with the
aid of those Earth fighters, the tide of battle will have long since
turned in their favour.  We withdraw before they can regroup and come
after us."  Lucifer paused and stared at Baltar.  He understood where
the so-called Count had got such passion from he was trying to save his
hide.  Baltar leaned forward slightly in his chair and gave Lucifer a
look that dared him to refuse.
     "By your command," Lucifer replied at last.

     As the last Starfighters penetrated the Stargate and entered the
star system, they could already see the battle was fully developed. 
Two more Basestars were menacingly advancing on the Colonial Fleet, and
even from their vantage point, they could make out the dwindling and
flaring pinpricks of light that signified laser discharges and
explosions.
     "Well it looks like we missed the start of the party.  I guess
we'll just have to join in and have as much fun as we can," Danton
announced.  With that the group surged forward and broke formation
going after targets of opportunity.  All save for the commandeered
Cylon fighter.  Not wishing to be accidentally shot down by any Earth
fighters, the craft headed straight for the Galactica, the red dot she
projected onto Colonial attack scanners serving to keep them at bay.

     The Bridge of the ship continued to be a scene of rising tension. 
Smoke and fumes from Cylon laser hits still wafted around the room as
more and more disheartening reports poured in from all around.  Adama
practically collapsed into his seat and began massaging the bridge of
his nose as it was announced that the two Basestars were closing to
attack range.
     "Sir, sensors indicate a large body of ships just passed through
the Stargate up ahead.  With one exception, they don't appear to match
any known Cylon war-type, and the exception is emitting the red warning
dot!" Omega shouted excitedly as he turned from his post.  Adama rose
from his seat and felt his chest swell with pride and relief.  Tigh
noticed the smile that began to grace Adama's lips.  The last time he'd
seen it, was in a similar instance at Carillon when the Colonial Vipers
had swarmed up from the surface of the planet and surprised the Cylon
fighters bearing down on the Fleet at that time.

     Sheba pulled out of a steep dive and blasted a Cylon Raider on a
suicide run intended to finish off the crippled Agro-ship III that had
been attacked.  As she flew through the now empty patch of space, she
heard Lieutenant Giles' excited voice over her speakers.
     "Watch out Lieutenant, you've got a pair on your tail and we can't
get to them!" Sheba acknowledged his warning and pulled her Viper
around in curve, glancing over first her left and then right shoulders
to get a look for herself.  A laser blast that rocked her ship as it
exploded just to her rear confirmed the Raiders location it also
confirmed that help wasn't on the way.  The standard manoeuvre in that
situation was to hit maximum braking flaps panels that in a planetary
environment acted as a break and in space positioned special thrusters,
and then let the pursuers overshot before firing turbos and coming up
from behind.  Their slightly off centre location made that too tricky
to try, though Sheba would if there were no alternative.  It was then
that she spied, first on her forward scanner, then visually the new
arrival, a ship whose design had become familiar to her over the last
few days.  The twin-hulled ship streaked toward the Cylons in level
flight and began firing emerald laser torpedoes at the pursuers
rendering them ashes.  Before the twin explosions fully dissipated, the
craft performed a triple barrel roll to protect it and it's occupant
from the flames and debris as it passed through and levelled off next
to her.
     "Thanks for the help out there," Sheba said, not even sure I the
pilot could hear her.
     "Don't mention it ma'am," came a strong male voice in reply before
the ship broke formation and went after another Raider nearby.
     The Cylon Raider containing Buck, Starbuck and Apollo dodged and
weaved about, occasionally blasting an unsuspecting Raider out of
existence.  At one point as they finally made an approach to the Alpha
Landing Bay, a pair of Cylon Raiders on suicide runs at the deck were
dispatched with extreme prejudice as the ship landed.  No sooner had it
done so than the three occupants opened the hatch in the floor and
jumped down, heading for their respective ships, two Vipers and one
Starfighter.  This time Buck wasn't two concerned about the wingtips on
his ship scraping the sides of the launch tube as he threw the throttle
leaver forward and accelerated down the tube, emerging the same second
as Apollo and Starbucks Vipers next to him.  The moment they had
cleared the great ship however, they found themselves in the midst of a
truly titanic firefight.  All around ships from all three groups:
Colonial Vipers, Earth Starfighters and Cylon Raiders charged around
the sky firing at each others, some of the Vipers trailing their
distinctive turbo backwashes.
     "Boomer, this is Apollo, I'm assuming command of the Squadron, or
at least whatever's left of it."
     "Acknowledged skipper, passing the baton.  I guess we owe you a
debt for pulling through."
     As they briefly drew alongside Boomer's battle-scarred Viper, they
saw him motion through his canopy at them before peeling to his right
and going after some Raiders making strafing runs at the Rising Star.
     "Leave some for us, Boomer."  Starbuck shouted after his friend as
he, Apollo and Buck all followed.  Buck had closed on the tail of the
lead ship and, after arming his weapons and attack computer, closed
down the Raider.
     "Eat lead sucker!" Buck remarked and sent laser blasts flying into
it's hull.

     "The Earth fighters arrived not a moment to soon," Tigh said to
Adama with relief heavy in his voice.  The smoke from some of the
earlier hits to the ship having finally gone and the tension level,
though quite correctly still there, somewhat lower than it was before.
     "We've still got those two Basestars to worry about," Adama
pointed at the image on one of the screens.  They looked down as the
Two Cylon ships had began to move farther apart until there was a gap
between them, about treble the width of the Galactica.
     "We've still got three of our four flank missiles left," Tigh
reminded Adama.
     "Yes, but they've got four Mega-pulsars between them.  And those
heavy batteries have got three or four shots to their name," Adama
retorted.  He turned to Omega and ordered, "Prepare to lock flank
missiles on targets and fire when I give the word."

     In terms of the fighter verses fighter battle, the tide had
clearly turned in favour of the human forces.  The odds were a little
more even.  When the Earth fighters had arrived there had been about
one hundred and forty Colonial fighters left, which increased the
number of fighters to over three hundred and fifty at a time when the
Cylons had less than five hundred.  It was inevitable, given the
superior piloting skills of the humans that the odds would continue to
improve.  It was that reason that the two Basestars had begun to move
on the Galactica.  All around the battlefield, despite having never
fought together before, the Earth and Colonial fighters soon began
working together.  It was not uncommon to see groups of half a dozen
fighters of both nationalities swarm at large clusters of Cylons and
blast them out of the sky.  Using this tactic, the number of Cylon
fighters first reached the same number of fighters as the humans, which
by this stage was hovering just above the three hundred mark, and then
began to fall rapidly.
     "I think we've got them on the run," Flight Sergeant Selma crowed
as she positioned herself on the tail of one Raider, heading for the
safety of the Two Basestars.  Whilst that was true, Selma had forgotten
that there were other ships all around her, most of them Cylons.
     "Attention Colonial fighter, there's a couple of Cylons on your
tail, bank to port, I'll try and get one," Wilma commanded Selma as she
flew her Starfighter down in a steep dive and as she levelled out
blasted one of two Cylons that had leached onto Selma's tail.
     "And I'll get the other one,"  Danton remarked.  He was on the
tail of the remaining Cylon and as it turned, so did he, reducing it to
atoms with just a single laser volley.
     "Nice flying Major," Wilma remarked.
     "Better than Rogers?" Danton asked in reply.  There was a time
when that remark may have been genuine.
     Wilma knew that was no longer true and so responded, "Nice try
Major, but I'm taken."
     As the two spoke up, for her part, Selma whom they'd just saved
took care of the ship that she'd been pursuing all along.

     Lieutenant Dante, the most senior surviving Warrior from Bronze
Squadron craned his neck slightly as he watched a flock of thirty Cylon
Raiders above his ship, turn and head for the Stargate.
     "I think we've got them on the run," Jolly remarked over the
radio.
     Dante mentally concurred with the Ensign's assessment and,
noticing that the Galactica was on the verge of engaging the two
Basestars, made a decision.  Dante had a reputation as a ladies man. 
With his good looks, charm, charisma and (allegedly) bedroom skills, he
was always a popular date for women and thee was many the woman on his
native Sagitara who was heartbroken when news of the Fifth Fleet's
apparent demise at Molocay one and a half Yahrens before the Holocaust,
reached the Colonies.  Since his enforced transfer from the Pegasus to
the Galactica after Gommoray, he had found a new lease of live with the
young ladies aboard the Rising Star.  But it wasn't also his womanising
it was his skills as a Warrior that also played a part.  And now they
were coming to a fore.  Remembering something he heard Apollo and
Starbuck do for the Pegasus at Gommoray when she, like the Galactica
had been engaged against two Basestars, Dante contacted a few other
Bronze Squadron pilots he knew were near by including Selma.  Moments
later five Vipers in arrowhead formation headed straight for the port
Basestar.

     "Approaching Basestars, fifteen microns and closing Father,"
Athena said Adama as he consulted the sensor reports.
     "Continue to hold for my signal to launch missiles."  Adama raised
his right hand, fingers outstretched.  When the time came, he would
drop his hand and the missiles would fly.  Everyone knew that even with
the fighter situation under control, the two Basestars could still turn
the tide in their favour, and, along with their remaining Raiders
finish off the Fleet.
     "Commander, several Vipers have commenced strafing runs on one of
the two Basestars."  Omega tapped a few buttons and one of the monitors
began displaying the view.  Tigh and Adama stared at it and watched in
rapt attention as five Vipers, preceded by crimson laser streaks, made
runs at the Basestar.  Tigh and Adama could see the hits registering. 
And then it happened.  A lone Raider, damaged in the blast cart wheeled
towards one of the Hanger doors on the Basestar and collide with it
buckling out of shape so that the inside could be glimpsed.  The Vipers
followed this up with volleys of laser blasts that struck home inside
the Bay.  The first massive explosion from the ship took everyone by
surprise but there it was, represented by flames shooting from the
damaged Bay.  The Vipers all scattered from the ship as everyone on the
Galactica Bridge stared at the monitor ever more intently than before.
     "She's going to explode!" Adama exclaimed as he stood up.  True to
form, a few moments later that was exactly what happened.  There were
cheers from all around as the Bridge crew got to their feet and
cheered, some hugging the person to their side.  But all that was
swiftly forgotten as a Mega-Pulsar blast narrowly missed the Galactica. 
If there was ever a reminder that there was still danger out there,
that was it.
     "Stand by to fire!"  Adama immediately resumed his earlier stance
as the Galactica reacquired it's target.  The two ships closed on each
other inexorably, occasionally exchanging laser shots from their turret
mountings.  As if sensing that something was about to happen, the human
fighters that occasionally fought dog and daggitfights amidst the great
ships left Cylon Raiders be and headed away from the area.
     "We're in range Commander," Omega said.
     "According to telemetry, some Vipers and earth fighters made runs
of their own on this ship as well.  At least a third of her laser
turrets are out of action," Tigh stated.
     "Well Tigh, let's not waste that good fortune."  Adama's hand
suddenly dropped to his side.  "Fire!" he spat.
     From an observer looking from space, the missile appeared as a
brilliant red streak, as opposed to a projectile flying through the
void.  A deadly finger reaching from one ship to another, and as it
touched the other ship, so that vessel erupted in a myriad of brilliant
explosions that left nothing but shards of flaming debris when it
vanished.

     Buck happened to catch the Basestar's last few moments of life as
he himself finished off a pair of Raiders with his usual flare.  As he
stopped seeing stars from the light he'd just seen when the Basestar
blew up, Buck turned to see a group of about sixty or more Raiders pass
through the Stargate, leaving the system devoid of Cylons at last.
     "Was it something I said?  Boy, I've really got to think about
changing my underwear pretty soon," Buck quipped as the remaining human
fighters grouped together.
     One group, of about twenty-four Earth Starfighters formed up into
three columns of eight in box formation and flew to the Galactica.  One
row flew above her, while the other two flew along side either nacelle.
     "Attention ladies and gentlemen.  On behalf of the Government of
the planet Earth, please have your passports and any items you wish to
declare ready before we pass through the gate," Buck informed the
people aboard the Battlestar, aboard which, the people on the Bridge
laughed and cheered even though they didn't understand the meaning of
Buck's words.  The Fleet was escorted through first one and then the
other Stargate that the Cylons had once guarded into the Vyra system.

Epilogue

     Baltar limped into the Control Centre, adjacent to his Throne Room
and surveyed the mess.  Whilst attempting to disassemble a computer
console, some Centurions had inadvertently started a fire.  A fire
warden Cylon (who differed from a regular Centurion by having a fire
extinguisher instead of a right arm) was standing over the burning
embers, spraying them with fire-suppressant liquid.  In the centre of
the fray stood Lucifer who was communing with a gold Centurion to
assess the situation.  In deference to Baltar's presence in the room,
Lucifer verbally thanked the Centurion for his report and scuttled over
to Baltar's side.
     "Report."  Baltar had no time for superlatives at that point.
     "The last of the computer virus that disabled the ship has been
purged, though it did involve somewhat, eh, drastic measures to
accomplish.  I might say that it would have been avoided if we had
known that your former personal fighter was still space worthy."
     Baltar merely looked at Lucifer.  It would not be good to admit
that he did know for it would confirm Lucifer's suspicions of Baltar's
collusion with the Colonials in their destruction of the Cylon Basestar
that had precipitated his exile from the flight and subsequent reunion
with the Cylons.  Though Lucifer suspected what Baltar had done so, he
lacked proof.  It was possible that telemetry from the captured Raider
was present in the computers and could provide that proof.
     "And tell me Lucifer, what of our remaining forces?"
     "Approximately seventy Raiders managed to make it back to us,
though neither of our sister-ships fared so well," Lucifer replied,
preparing himself for Baltar's reaction to the news that they were all
that was left of the pursuit force.
     "Very well.  Use some of the surviving fighters to replace our own
lost craft and have the rest disassembled and used for parts to keep
the others running.  We'll be here for quite sometime."
     "We will?  Surely we'll return to Cylon to report what's happened
to our Imperious Leader?" Lucifer exclaimed.
     "Do you want to go before Imperious Leader to tell him that once
again we've failed to defeat Adama and that additionally he's been able
to accomplish one of his objectives for seeking Earth, namely an
alliance with them and possibly sanctuary as well?"
     "I see your point, Baltar," agreed Lucifer.  "But if we aren't
returning to Cylon, what can we do.  We lack sufficient forces to
engage the Galactica, especially now that she's allied with Earth."
     "What was our Imperious leader's revised decision concerning the
rest of humanity when he spared my life and gave me this command?"
Baltar pressed.
     "Until the debacle on Gommoray, that they be allowed to live,
subject to their being contained."
     "Precisely.  Whilst captives of ours, the Earth people made
reference to those who would do harm to them, one of the great powers
of this region of space, a former Earth colony called Draconia to name
one.  We shall seek these people out and acquire their assistance in
exchange for that, and leaving the Cylon Empire alone, they'll be
spared by us."
     "As impressive as we are, I fail to see how on our own, we can
persuade these Draconians should we find them, to help us.  Especially
on those terms," Lucifer replied sceptically.
     "And that Lucifer is why Imperious Leader placed me in charge.  No
go!"
     "By your Command," Lucifer replied, managing to hide his feelings
on Baltar's course of action from him.  Baltar merely began muttering
to himself over and over again.
     "I'll not return empty-handed again Adama.  Next time we meet, the
day will be mine.  I swear it, no matter that it takes an eternity."

     The party at Buck's place was in full swing as Latimer arrived and
cautiously sounded the door chime.  Latimer was greeted, a few anxious
moments later by Buck.  A model of a nervous man, the Governor stood in
the doorstep wringing his hands.
     "Governor Latimer, what brings you to my humble abode tonight.  I
knew you lived a few doors down, but I never expected a visit.  Do you
need to borrow some sugar?"  Latimer actually laughed at Buck's joke. 
Peering over Buck's shoulder, Latimer saw the partygoers within.
     "I was wondering if I could see Dr. Huer and Dr. Theopolus.  I
tried to contact them but I was informed that they were here." 
Stifling protests and objections from Latimer, Buck led him inside the
room which was full of people, mainly Colonials, on or to of which were
dancing to late 20th century rock music.
     "Huer, I just wanted to come by and extend my apologies for most
of the things I said about you.  I won't say all as there are one or
two things you could have done to prevent this tragedy.  However, for
the most part I acknowledge I was wrong.  Can you forgive me?"  He held
his hand out to Huer who'd been standing in a relatively quiet corner
of the room conversing with Commander Adama at the time.  He walked
over to the spot where Latimer was standing and shook his hand.
     "Gladly Governor," Huer replied.
     "That goes for you too Captain Rogers, Colonel Deering.  If I
hadn't pulled rank and accompanied you to Vyra.  A lot of unnecessary
problems later on might not have happened.  Anyway I thought you'd like
to know that by week's end I won't be in a position to repeat that
stunt again.  I've submitted my resignation to the Diplomatic
Directorate, effective from the end of the week.  I'd have made it
effective from today, but there are loose ends to tie up that I
wouldn't be able to deal with as a private citizen."  Huer was about to
voice a protest, when Buck decided to intervene.
     "Now hold on Governor.  I know you've been a pain of late and have
made mistakes.  But it's clear from all you've said that you've learned
from them.  And there were extenuating circumstances."  Recalling his
experience when he'd gone to the ruins of Old Chicago, Buck added, "God
knows I pulled that once.  Besides, who else will be the first
Ambassador from earth to the Twelve Colonies?"
     Latimer looked around.  "After all Governor, you were the one who
pulled the strings to send our fighters to help the Colonial Fleet. 
That has got to count for something.  Not to mention I spy two of the
three people necessary to confirm that posting here in this room.  You,
as it's ultimately up to you whether you'd like the job.  And then
there's Commander Adama, as President of the Colonial people to accept
you," Wilma pointed out, indicating the two men present.
     "And Dr. Huer and I have sufficient influence with the Diplomatic
Directorate to see to it that you get the post," Theo added.
     The Governor looked about him.  Adama walked up to him and shook
his hand in the Colonial style.  "I can't think of a better
representative than the man who helped persuade Earth to help us in our
centar of need."
     "Well, I think it's time we headed over to Plato's for a real
celebration after this don't you?" Buck asked the assembled guests.
     "I'm afraid Buck that we'll have to go and begin arrangements for
Governor, sorry Ambassador Latimer's confirmation," Huer replied,
leading Latimer, Adama and Twiki (with Theo around his neck) out of the
door.
     "Well how about you Duke?"  Buck turned to Danton who had spent a
lot of time that evening with Lieutenant Athena, Adama's Daughter.
     "I'd love to Buck, but um, I agreed to show the Lieutenant here
some of the sights in the Inner City."
     With that Athena leaned in close and nibbled Danton's ear. 
Putting his arm around her waste, the two left.  Buck turned to the
others, Apollo, Sheba, Starbuck, Boomer and Cassiopeia but one by one
they each made their excuses and left.
     "Was it something I said?" Buck asked.
     "No, they just knew something about tomorrow that you don't that a
late night on the town would spoil," Wilma replied snaking an arm
around Buck.
     "And what surprise would that be?" Buck asked.
     "It's a surprise.  Wait until morning," Wilma replied as she began
to nuzzle Buck's neck.
     "But I hate surprises, I'll probably be up all night trying to
figure out what it is," Buck remarked.
     "Good, because what I've got planned for us tonight, you won't get
much chance to sleep," Wilma revealed, suggestively lowering the zip on
her purple jumpsuit she'd been wearing and leading Buck to the Slumber
centre.
     Buck boarded the shuttle with Wilma and tried not to seem annoyed
at the secrecy.
     "Now just sit in the section at the rear with our Colonial guests
and we'll be off," Wilma stated in a singsong, happy-go-lucky voice.
     Buck looked on sceptically, mentally estimating when his five
hundred and thirty sixth birthday was.  After realising it was still
weeks away, he settled down in his seat, across the aisle from three
Colonials, Commander Adama, Captain Apollo and Apollo's adopted son
Boxey (accompanied by his robot dog or daggit, Muffit).  When Wilma had
suggested the trip all she had said was it might help Buck cheer up
after recent events such as encountering another double of his
girlfriend Jennifer, Lieutenant Sheba, and based on what Buck had once
told her about their mystery destination, an appropriate place to
welcome the Colonial delegation to Earth.

     The flight from New Chicago to their mystery destination passed
quite quickly and the airliner-like confines (except for the absence of
windows) lent themselves to a comfortable flight.  Buck would have
slept but Wilma told him the flight would only take perhaps thirty
minutes at the speed they would be travelling.  Buck felt, rather than
saw the landing.  The barely audible noise of the engines changing
pitch as the awkward looking, twin-engined craft settled down on land.
     Wilma appeared in the main cabin still looking radiant in one of
her one-piece jumpsuits with the Earth flag on it.  In a mock airline
stewardess style that based on what she'd learnt from visits to the
archives, or with Buck's recent welcome to the Colonials after the
battle, announced, "Gentlemen, welcome to the city of Nu Yok, formerly
New York City.  I hope you've had a pleasant trip and enjoy your
visit."  She broke into a giggle as she motioned the passengers to
deplane.
     Buck by this time as bewildered as the Colonials.  The five people
emerged from the craft, not into a bustling air or spaceport as Buck
expected, but atop a green hill that to Buck was faintly familiar. 
Wilma grabbed Buck by the arm and led him along the cliff, Adama and
the others in tow.
     "Tada!" Wilma said at last and spread her hands out before her. 
Buck and the others looked on at the skyline of present day New York, a
breathtaking sight in its own right.  What particularly filled Buck
with pleasure, making his heart rise and tears of joy to form in his
eyes, was a little closer perched on a pedestal with a star-shaped base
on a small outcropping away from Manhattan Island, the lower half of
it's body surrounded by the 25th century equivalent of scaffolding.
     "What is the name of that colossus?" asked Adama, striding forward
to get a better look.
     "It's called the Statue of Liberty Commander," Buck replied the
tears now freely flowing.  He clasped Wilma's hand and brought it up to
his lips to kiss. Even though he would have thought the Pyramids of
Egypt or Latin America may have been a more appropriate place to take
them first, the reason for Wilma bringing the four of them here, became
quite clear.
     Wilma had remembered the story Buck had told her about the
inspiration the Statue had had for immigrants to the then United
States.  Buck turned to Adama, noting that the great statue, it's torch
held high and it's body, in one piece and in great and glorious
condition, had the same effect on the people from the Colonials that it
had on generations of other new arrivals to these shores.
     "What does it mean?" asked Boxey of his father and Grandfather,
Muffit barking in it's electronic way.  Smiling, Buck looked down at
the boy, then back to his elders.
     "It means, welcome to the promised-land Gentlemen, your journey's
finally over."  Buck declared.

From the Adama Journals:
     Fleeing from the Cylon tyranny, the last Battlestar, Galactica has
finally led a ragtag fugitive Fleet to the end of their lonely quest, a
shining planet known as Earth.

- The End -