I hope that you like this story.  Please email me at
LtJenna@hotmail.com with your comments.

ASSIGNMENT TO EARTH

Chapter One

      The young man stood at the sink, carefully rinsing his breakfast
dishes.  Tall and lean of frame, his broad shoulders and dark hair made
a pleasing silhouette against the white kitchen wall.  Jenna was drawn
to this man in a way she didn't quite understand.  As a general rule,
she hardly spoke to the men who came to the ranch.  It was the way she
preferred it.  But this one was different... special somehow.  And she
was interested -- very.  Jenna leaned against the door frame and
continued her appraisal.  He looked so at ease completing the task, she
wondered how long he had been shifting for himself.  He hadn't seemed
to think much about the chore; he'd finished eating, cleared his place,
and began the washing.  She continued looking at him.  He wore
well-broken-in sneakers that had, at one time, been white.  His faded
jeans had been washed to a light blue and his plaid flannel shirt was
neatly tucked in.  The only jarring point was the holster strapped to
his left leg.
      Not that there was anything strange about the holster, or his
wearing one.  It was a perfectly ordinary leather holster worn to house
the pistol he'd brought for the hunting party her uncle was to guide. 
The uniqueness was the way he wore it, as if it were part of him.  He
was a man long familiar with his weapon - an odd thing in a city
dweller.  Unless, of course, he was in the military or a police officer
- but usually none of Glen's clients were members of either group. 
Besides, something about the pistol looked familiar... she needed a
closer look at it.
      Noiselessly she stepped across the room and stopped behind him. 
With remarkable speed she lifted the weapon from its resting-place. 
The man spun around and reached for it, but she was already retreating
to the far end of the room where she stopped to examine it, keeping a
wary eye on its owner.  He stood still, watching her carefully, his
face an unreadable mask.
      Hefting the pistol in her right hand, she laid the barrel across
her left palm.  Her eyes widened as she gazed at the laser pistol in
her hands.  There was little chance of mistaking the design.  He must
be a warrior!  No wonder he'd caught her notice.  Usually she didn't
pay much attention to members of Glen's hunting groups, but warriors
were unlike any other group of people she'd ever met.  Of course she'd
been drawn to single him out -- he was one of her people.  He must be!
      'He could be a Cylon spy or agent, too,' a voice of caution echoed
in the back of her mind, but for the moment she ignored it.  She
extended her right hand, sighting down the barrel.
      "May I please have my weapon back?"  He advanced a step in her
direction.
      Ignoring his query, she said, "The balance is wrong."  Looking up
at him she grinned and continued, "But then, you're left-handed, aren't
you?"  Shifting the gun to her left hand and sighting again, she said,
"That's much better."
      "May I have my weapon back?"  The voice was tight with control,
although there had been a momentary flash of surprise in his eyes at
her knowledge of the weapon's balance.
      "Please."  Her grin widened, an eyebrow quirked in his direction.
      "Please."  He was beginning to let his irritation show.
      "Certainly.  I only wanted to look at it.  It's not exactly your
basic .22."  Her face now serious, she handed it back, butt end first. 

      He slipped it back into its holster without looking, snapping the
restraining strap to make sure that it stayed there.  His gaze was on
her, and full of suspicion.  "Where did you learn so much about
weapons?"  His voice held his curiosity and something else.  What, she
wasn't sure.
      She returned his gaze with an innocent look as her conscience
warned her, 'Be careful, girl; many a disguise was lost through too
much curiosity on the part of the "disguisee" trying to be too smart!'
      She smiled disarmingly.  "I've been around them all my life. 
Natch' my uncle insisted I learn about them so I wouldn't kill
myself... or someone else."  True enough, she placated her conscience;
after the death of her parents, she'd been raised mostly on her uncle's
battlestar.  She had been around warriors and their weapons most of her
life.  She risked another glance at his pistol.  She hadn't seen one
since the Cylons had taken hers away five years ago.  She still missed
the familiar weight against her leg.  She looked up to find his eyes
still on her.
      "I haven't seen one like that for a long time."  That should get
his attention, she mused.  
      It did.  His brows skyrocketed as his eyes bored into hers, his
reaction rapid and to the point.
      "You've seen another weapon like mine?  Where?  When?"  His
questions were sharp.  
      Definitely a warrior, and to judge by the commanding tone of
voice, probably an officer.  But who was he?  Which side was he on, the
Fellowship or the Alliance?  The Cylons had quite a few humans working
for them, even some warriors, so it wasn't always safe to talk to
anyone you didn't know.  The voice of caution was back.  Besides, what
would a warrior be doing here, anyway?  'Be careful now, Jenna,' she
told herself.  'Be casual.'
      "Oh, it was a while ago.  Five years or so.  Listen, I need to go
help Aunt Hannah with the housework and they're waiting for you in the
living room.  Have a good hunt."  She turned quickly with a smile and
left the room in silence, but not before she saw him take one step
towards her, seem to think the better of it and stop, a puzzled look on
his face and his thoughts in turmoil, no doubt.

*        *        *        *        *

      Jenna dropped the completed backpack onto a chair and continued to
pace her small room.  Her sky-blue skirt swirled about her knees with
each movement.  As she mentally thought over the items she'd packed for
tomorrow's trip with the men, she realized those thoughts again began
to center around the now-familiar subject of the 'dark stranger' she'd
met.  She couldn't seem to keep her mind on whatever project was at
hand.  Aunt Hannah had even noticed that she seemed preoccupied and had
sent her off to take a nap.  Her mind, however, racing a hundred miles
a minute had prevented sleep from coming, so she'd gotten up and packed
for tomorrow, preferring to be busy.  That hadn't really helped stem or
slow the thoughts racing through her brain.
      He had to be a Warrior.  Was he looking for her?  But if, on the
other hand he was a spy for the Cylons, was he looking for her because
of her escape?  She had never heard of that happening before, at least
not after this long, but with Cylons, who could tell?  
      If he was a warrior, maybe he could help her get back home again. 
But how did he get here?  Who was he?  She knew most of the officers in
the fleet.  After all, there were only fifteen battlestars, but this
one she'd never met.  Jenna knew she'd have remembered him.
      She glanced at her watch.  It was nearly time to go help with
dinner.  She needed answers but dared not arouse the interest of the
other hunters, most of whom she already knew.  Nor dared she arouse
Glen or Hannah's suspicions, which would be trickier, as they knew her
better than anyone else on the planet.  Somehow she had to get the
warrior off by himself before the hunting party ended next Saturday.  
      'Let me see...' she mentally figured, 'that gives me five more
days.'  Jenna straightened her pale grey blouse, flipped her hair
behind her shoulders, and hurried downstairs to help cook the meal. 
The returning men would be hungry.

*        *        *        *        *

      Brilliant blue eyes closely watched Jenna serving dessert.  He had
not had a good hunt, as every time his hand had brushed against his
weapon, she filled his thoughts.  Where had she seen another laser
pistol?  The design was quite distinctive.  The only ones he'd seen in
all his travels had either belonged to other warriors or to Cylons who
had taken them from warriors.  If there were Cylons here, he needed to
know about it.  If it had been another warrior, maybe there was a ship
somewhere and they could put their heads together and figure out a way
around his present difficulties.  Maybe she'd even seen that blasted
scout, Rantek, who'd screamed for help and promptly vanished, which was
why he was here in the first place.  No, that didn't make sense; she
had mentioned a time span of five years, and Rantek hadn't been on
Earth that long.  
      Scowling, Apollo slowly brought his thoughts back to the present. 
'She's short; barely comes to my shoulder.  However,' he noted, 'she's
well proportioned.  She's pleasing to look at and seems to be in
reasonably good physical shape.'  
      Her face reminded him of a friend he'd had on Caprica; oval, with
a small, straight nose centered above a pert red mouth.  Her light
brown hair fell straight to her shoulders before gently curving under
and never fell into her face.  Her eyes seemed huge and dark brown,
fringed with long black lashes.  Her skin was smooth and pale, as if
she'd been working indoors all her life... so why does an "indoors
person" know so much about weapons?  Particularly mine?  'I'll have to
get her aside before I leave Saturday,' he thought.
      A soft voice suddenly interrupted his reverie.  "If you're
finished, I'll take your plate."
      Startled, he looked up, straight into her eyes.  "Yes, I am.  Let
me help you."  He rose, grabbed the empty plate from the table in front
of him and followed her into the kitchen.  She took the plate from his
grasp and smiled up at him.
      "You know, we really shouldn't keep meeting in here unless we've
been properly introduced.  I'm Jenna.  Who are you?"
      "My name is Apollo."
      She blinked in surprise.  That was an unusual name, found here
occasionally, but NEVER at home.  "Your parents liked the Greeks?"
      "Pardon me?"  His expression was blank.
      "Your name... it's Greek.  Apollo was the Sun God... but his hair
was golden, not nearly black like yours."  She glanced up just in time
to see quickly veiled confusion in his eyes.  Good.  Keep him
off-balance and guessing for a while.  At least until she knew him
better.  After all, he could be a Cylon informant.
      Jenna began to run the dishwater into the sink.  "Well?" she
demanded, "how did your hunting go today?"  She squirted the liquid
dish soap into the water.
      "John got his deer and Glen got several rabbits.  The rest of us
came up empty."  At least this subject was safer than the origins of
his name, Apollo reasoned.  He didn't know who the "Greeks" were, and
he knew even less about this planet's name origin histories.
      Jenna giggled.  "I'll have to go out with you tomorrow and show
all you macho-types how it's done!  I'll bet John's deer is pretty
scrawny.  He always shoots at the first thing that moves then packs up
and heads for the city ASAP.  Being an accountant, he's not the
wilderness type.  I think his wife makes him come, so they can have the
venison to eat!"
      Apollo smiled.  "You seem to know John well.  And his deer was
quite small, I understand.  Much as I'd like to see you hunt, you can't
come tomorrow.  We're going for two or three days... all the way to the
top of the mountain.  Glen said that's where the best game is."
      "So why can't I come?"  Her question was blunt, her voice flat,
her face devoid of emotion.
      "No chaperon.  Unless your Aunt would care to come along?"  He
quirked an eyebrow at her.
      His sense of morality pleased her, but she wasn't about to admit
it.  "You need to learn something right now," she said in a rather
harsh voice.  "I do what I want and no one stops me."  She smiled,
then, and her voice softened.  "I usually go on the overnighters as
cook."  Noting a slight frown between his brows, she added, "If it
makes you feel better, I also carry and use my own tent.  By myself. 
Besides," she added, "I can't resist the chance to see your gun in
action."  
      Her grin sparkled in her eyes before she looked down into the
sink.  She turned off the water and left to retrieve the rest of the
dishes, ignoring him completely.
      Apollo walked slowly upstairs to his room.  This girl was a
puzzle.  She seemed to be deliberately baiting him.  Her words were
carefully chosen and she generally watched his face as if checking his
reaction.  Her conversation with the others she'd teased with tonight
had been more open and natural.  That may be because this was a group
that assembled every year and she knew them better, but it seemed
almost as if she didn't trust him.  Why?  And why did she keep coming
back to the subject of his pistol?  Something was going on here and he
was determined to find out exactly what.
      Reaching his room, he checked the camping equipment in his pack. 
Some of it was from his Viper's survival pack.  Colonial issue.  With
the interest she'd shown over his pistol, he wondered what she'd say
when she saw his camp gear; a small smile played at the corner of his
mouth.
      Ready for tomorrow's early start, he pulled out the log he'd been
meticulously keeping since he'd left the Galactica.  He stared at the
blank page.  What entry could he make for today?  He hadn't learned
anything new.  And when - or if - he ever got home, he'd really rather
not have to explain Jenna's strange conversation in his report.  He
sighed.  Knowing Tigh, he'd want to read the entire log.  Apollo made a
short entry about the day's hunting, then closed the log and put it
away.  
      Turning off the light, he climbed into bed and closed his eyes. 
Sleep refused to come for a long time.

CHAPTER TWO

      Apollo woke to the shrill beep of his alarm and shook his head as
if to clear it.  When sleep had finally come, it brought dreams of
Cylons.  They had chased him across space and all over the planet. 
Sometimes Jenna led them to him; sometimes she fought at his side.  All
in all, he had not slept well.
      "Perhaps it's a good thing she's going with us," he muttered
aloud.  "I can keep an eye on her."  He frowned.  "I'll make a chance
to talk to her.  I need some answers.  Then maybe I'll get some decent
sleep!"  Quickly showering Apollo dressed for the day.  He strapped his
small medikit to his belt and positioned it over the back of his right
hip.  He belted and tied his holster to his left thigh and filled the
hollow with the pistol, carefully snapping the security strap in place. 
Finally, he picked up his pack and went downstairs.
      Several members of the party were waiting in the living room. 
Apollo stopped in the doorway to survey the group.  Rory Thompson was
propped against his pack, which in turn was propped against the wall. 
He was nearly asleep again, his thin frame threatening to slide off his
pack, his dark blond hair having already fallen into its customary
place in front of his eyes.
      Big Charles Buckson - a man with whom you didn't argue when he
stated that it was "Charles, not Charlie!" - was draped across the end
of the couch, his pack laying on the floor at his side.
      John Patterson, his brown hair nearly getting clipped by the
low-hanging, slowly rotating ceiling fan, stood in the center of the
room nervously jingling something in his pocket.
      Mike Jeffries sat tensively in a chair, his pack on the floor at
his feet, eagerly awaiting the word to go.  Scarcely containing his
excitement, he glanced up at Apollo's entrance.  His broad grin
revealing perfectly straight teeth, he said, "Ready to go?"
      Apollo smiled back.  He'd only met Mike the evening before last
but instinctively liked him.  Probably because his blond, blue-eyed
looks and his personality reminded him of Starbuck.  Briefly wondering
how Starbuck was doing, Apollo said, "I'm ready.  Glen and Jenna aren't
down yet?"
      Charles spoke up from the couch.  "Jenna's in the kitchen helping
Hannah with breakfast and our host is in the den selecting today's
rifle."
      Jenna came to the dining room door then, across the room from
Apollo.  She looked no less feminine today in the jeans and oversized
turtleneck sweater than she had yesterday in her skirt and blouse, even
considering the pistol snugged against her right thigh.  It appeared to
be a standard .22.
      "Breakfast is on!" she said.  "Let's eat so we can get started!"  
      As the men began moving towards the dining room, Rory's head
finally slid off his pack and hit the wall, startling him awake.  Mike
lent him a hand up and they followed Charles into the dining room. 
Apollo placed his pack in the chair recently deserted by Mike and
smoothly moved to join the rest. 
      After breakfast, during which John explained he needed to get back
to his office right away and since he'd bagged his deer, he'd see them
all later, the men went back to the living room to get their equipment. 
Apollo and Jenna had shared a smile over John's words, and both felt
good about the sharing.
      Jenna disappeared up the stairs and returned with a pack that
looked too big for her small frame.  She attached a small leather case
onto the back of her belt and slid it around until it hung over her
left hip, then shouldered the pack. 
      Leaving the house, they stopped at the stable for the packhorses. 
One was a beautiful dark brown horse.  It stood placidly while Glen and
Mike fastened on a large pack containing, Apollo surmised, their food
supplies. 
      The second horse was more nervous as it was led from the stable. 
It was a deep black, with a white patch on each foot and a white blaze
on its forehead.
      Jenna moved quickly to the horse's head and soothed it, crooning
to it and calling it by name.  While Jenna held the horse, the stable
man quickly and efficiently loaded the horse with four long and two
shorter poles, some canvas webbing, and several coiled lengths of rope. 
Apollo was not sure what their purpose might be, but didn't want to
attract attention to his ignorance by asking.
      Mike walked over to Apollo and said, "The hunting is usually
pretty good on top, if we can cross the river to get there.  It's been
raining a lot lately.  It may be too flooded to get very high."
      "You mean you don't know exactly where we're going?"  Apollo
quietly but firmly questioned, surprise evident in his voice.
      Mike grinned.  "Nope.  But I'm sure Glen's got a few ideas in
mind.  He's the leader; he knows the land better than any of us, that's
what we pay him for.  All I know is we'll be back on Friday; Glen
promised."
      "You really trust him, don't you?"  Apollo's eyes keenly watched
his face.
      Mike's smile disappeared and he faced Apollo squarely.  "He's
never broken a promise to me, or as far as I know, to anyone else.  On
the extremely few times I've known him to be wrong, he's always willing
to admit it and learn from his errors.  He always means what he says
and he backs up his words with action.  The guy's incredible.  I trust
him with my life."  Apollo looked hard at this face, assessing his
words and was satisfied with the truth he found there.
      They were interrupted by Glen's clear voice ringing out. 
"Everybody ready?"  Assenting murmurs came from the assembled group,
Mike and Apollo turning towards the others.
      Glen simply said, "Then let's go," and they began to move across
the fields toward the woods in the distance, falling neatly into a
line.  
      Glen led the brown horse with the food, followed closely by
Charles.  Mike and Rory came next, then Jenna, leading the black horse. 
It appeared calmer now, due to Jenna's gentle coaxing.  Apollo took the
rear of the line so he could help Jenna with her huge backpack and the
somewhat skittish horse if she had any problems.
      The group moved slowly across a wide meadow still wet with the
early morning's dew.  The line began to stretch out until there was ten
to fifteen feet between each person.  As Apollo lagged behind, he saw
it would not be difficult to follow the route the others had taken even
if he couldn't see them.  The waist-high grass seemed to darken at
their passage.
      As the pale yellow sun crept up the sky, the rays of light picked
out the drops of dew as if glistening the meadow with diamonds.  Dotted
throughout the shimmering sparkle were brilliant gold and purple
flowers of a type Apollo had never seen before.  Dainty white
many-petalled flowers with dark centers grew in clusters here and there
among darker green grassy plants.
      The peaceful chattering of morning birds pleasantly broke the
stillness.  The sky continued to lighten, losing its pink glow as it
became a golden morning.  
      Brilliantly colored butterflies flitted here and there in the
meadow, occasionally lighting for a moment on the tips of the grassy
blades or more colorful blossoms.
      Some of the plants in the meadow appeared to be a wild variety of
grain and Apollo found that another type of meadow grass had a prickly
top that broke off and stuck to his clothing.  He reached down to pull
a particularly stickery species from where it had lodged in his sock
and a softer variety attached itself to his sleeve.
      Reaching for it, he was surprised to see it crawl up his sleeve
when his fingers brushed against it.  He looked closer.  It was a
plant, not an animal.  Upon a bit of experimentation, he found it would
"crawl" only when stroked on the grain, and only up his sleeve, not
down.  He detached the bit and let it fall to the ground, quickening
his pace to catch up with the others.
      About five yards off to the left, Apollo noticed a movement in the
tops of the grasses.  Glancing in that direction he was startled to see
a thin green snake perhaps ten inches long, gliding along the tops of
the grass blades, hardly bending the tips beneath his slight weight.
      Apollo, his attention on the snake, stumbled momentarily on the
uneven ground, caught himself and quickly glanced back to where the
snake had been.  He saw the flick of the tail as the snake dove down
for better cover in the thicker grass beneath the surface.  Smiling to
himself he moved on appreciating the varied splendor around him,
thinking of other worlds he had visited whose stark beauty was bleak by
comparison.
      The ground cover through which they silently walked began to thin
and shorten, showing, from time to time, a mound marking the home of
small, rodent-type animals.  Apollo thought he had heard someone say
prairie dog, but according to the spools he'd studied this was not a
prairie and the animal was too small and shaped incorrectly to bear any
resemblance to the dogs he'd seen, which were very like the dagget he'd
had as a boy.  
      He saw two or three animals of similar size and build to the ones
who lived in the mounds, with only the tail and markings making a
distinction between them.  The largest was a grayish-brown and had a
graceful, bushy tail almost as long as its body.  It could run up trees
with incredible speed and stop without warning, freezing into a
statue-like appearance without giving evidence even of breathing.  A
bit smaller and a more precise brown were the creatures that lived in
the mounds.  Although they shared the same movement patterns, their
tails were much shorter and thinner.  The third little fellow was
smaller still, with a very thin, stubby tail, but the coloring was much
more distinctive, having two very pronounced deep brown and white
stripes run along the sides of their backs.  Their motions were still
as flighty as their "cousins" with short bursts of speed and sudden
stops to watch and listen for danger.
      A motion to the right of the trail drew Apollo's eyes in that
direction.  A furry brown rabbit was poised on his haunches, his large
ears standing at attention.  It was sniffing the air; its velvety nose
twitching quickly and nervously, the rest of its body was motionless.  
      Knowing the rabbit would make a good meal for the group cooked
over this evening's campfire, Apollo carefully drew his pistol. 
Apparently sensing danger, the rabbit turned and fled, bounding over
rock and flower with short and long leaps in a zigzagging manner.  The
unpredictability of his flight to safety prevented Apollo from getting
off a good shot.  A greater respect for Glen as a hunter was born in
his mind.
      With mild amusement at the rabbit's antics, Apollo re-holstered
his laser and continued up the trail, drawing comfort from the
knowledge they had fresh provisions for at least tonight's meal in the
horse's packs.
      As he quickened his steps to draw closer to the party, he realized
the slope of the ground was beginning to rise.  The grass was much
shorter, and there was more open ground.  There was also a larger
variety of brilliantly colored flowers, with the trees beginning just
ahead.
      As they came to the first line of trees and entered the woods,
there was a pleasant path to walk on, just wide enough for their
single-file march.  The sun, growing stronger, had dried the last of
the dew and was now glinting off the beautiful gold and red leaves of
the aspen trees.  There were miniature ferns on the forest floor and
small velvety plants whose leaves looked similar to several of the
trees nearby.  The majority of the trees, however, were the
white-barked aspens.  Those nearest the trail were carved somewhat with
initials of persons who had long since gone.  Apollo felt a flash of
irritation at those unknown vandals who thought it necessary to wound
the trees and destroy some of the woodland beauty solely to leave their
names behind them.
      The forest floor was littered with a great many dead branches and
trees that appeared to be rotting from the inside out.  The fall of
wood appeared to have been moved from their path, however, along with
the majority of the rocks, which were now piled along the edge of their
trail.  Apparently they were climbing up an old dry wash.
      After about half an hour of climbing, Apollo noticed that the
trees were getting thicker, the path beginning to slope more steeply. 
He was also seeing more and more pine trees, the deep smoky green
contrasting sharply against their background of red-gold aspens. 
      They crossed several small creeks over mini footbridges made of
old planks, rotted nearly through in places and covered with a slimy
green moss which made footing uncertain and passage difficult.  Near
the streams were vines covered with white flowers.  They looked very
like the dawn glories that had once been planted in his mother's
garden.  It was strange to him to think that such similar plants were
to be found on planets so far apart.
      At each stream, Apollo had made a motion to assist Jenna in
getting the horse over the "bridges".  Only the look in her eyes had
stopped him, a warning not to push his natural gallantry upon her, and
he respected her wishes, the feeling of checking his protective
tendencies odd within him.
      His sense of urgency... the need for answers from her continued to
grow within him.  Drawing on the discipline he had learned in his early
training at the academy, he suppressed the desires roiling within him
and continued to act nonchalant.  
      The path was very steep now, with rocks prevalently showing their
jagged points.  The party, once again close together, assisted each
other in climbing around or over them.  The horses seemed to have
little difficulty traversing the trail.  Apollo noticed all the men but
Glen occasionally swiping with a colored kerchief at their necks and
brows to stem the flow of perspiration generated by the vigorous climb
and their softer physical condition.  Glen, although older than any in
the party, was used to this climate and terrain and showed no sign of
fatigue or stress.
      Apollo also noticed that Jenna was not showing perspiration any
more than he was, just a slight glisten at his temples now.
      As the party climbed on top of the last jagged outcropping of
rock, Charles, his curly red hair dripping with the effort of the
climb, gasped out to Glen, "How much further before we stop for lunch?"

      Glen, a slow smile spreading across his even features, glanced at
his watch.  "We're nearly there.  Just under an hour now.  You're doing
fine," he said encouragingly.  "We'll make it in good time, so we can
stop here for about five minutes."  Simply sinking to the ground,
Charles chose not to expend energy on speech to answer or even give a
courteous 'thanks'.
      Apollo hid his smile at Glen's diplomacy and turned, climbing on
top of a small mound of rock at the trail's side to see how far they'd
come.  From his vantage point, he could see around and below him quite
well.  The trees were very close together now and the party was above
the last of the aspen.  Far below, the red-gold leaves now looked like
a plush carpet at their feet.
      The valley was wide and green, the mountains on the far side just
a bluish-purple mass, too far away to distinguish the vegetation. 
Surrounded by the deep green pine flowing to the golden red below and
fading to green, then purple under a cloudless blue sky, Apollo felt
peace at the beauty and drew strength from the grandeur of his
surroundings.  
      The scenery at this altitude reminded him very much of the forest
near his home on Caprica when he was young.  Then his mind replayed the
forest as he'd last seen it, blackened and still smoking from the Cylon
guns.  His face bleak, he reminded himself it was futile to dwell on
the past.
      The packhorses shifted, pawing restlessly at the ground, signaling
it was time to be getting on and Apollo descended from the rocks to
join the group.
      A brisk hour's climb brought them to a high mountain plateau that
had been smoothed and cleared.  Wooden tables and benches were
assembled for those hardy enough to make the trek.  A small stone
fireplace had been built for cooking, probably by the same people who'd
built the tables.  Apollo wondered absently what means were used to
transport the planks and bars used in the construction of these
facilities.  
      The men removed their packs, piling them on one of the tables in
the clearing.  The tables were an interesting construction, with metal
legs that were bent in just the right place to accommodate wooden
planks which became seats.  A handy way to have them complete as units. 
It would prevent damage being done to single unit chairs, he thought,
noting the details carefully.  He mentally stored this bit of
information away for future use.
      On one side of the clearing was high meadow grass where the horses
were tethered and contentedly munching, their noses buried deep in the
long, pale green blades.  A few yards away, a thin stream bubbled
merrily through the clearing to trickle and fall and happily flow down
the valley to join with its brothers into the wide-moving river at the
base of the valley.  Rory and Charles knelt at the stream, drinking and
splashing the cold water onto their hot faces.  Mike had removed his
boots and socks, dipping his bare toes in the cooling water, the smile
on his face broad.
      Turning, Apollo saw Jenna at one of the tables quickly laying out
some of the provisions brought with them this morning.  Thick, crusty
sandwiches and cool lemonade in tin cups were placed on the table. 
Chunks of cheese were also offered.  A mound of thick and chewy
chocolate chip cookies was placed beside the lemonade.  The cookies
were one treat Apollo knew he would miss once he returned home.
      With a slight sigh, Apollo despaired ever getting back to the
Galactica.  First he must complete his assignment, then there was the
lack of communications and transportation to be resolved.  His glance
flickered across Jenna, reawakening the urgency of questioning her and
perhaps reaching his objective.  Maybe this evening after dinner an
opportunity would afford him a few moments to gently broach the
subject.  He had to know whose weapon she'd seen: Cylon or warrior? 
The one possibility was chilling, the other cheering.
      The men were silent as they ate their meal; each wrapped in his
own thoughts.  After the meal they separated again while they finished
their rest period and let lunch settle a bit. 
      Apollo, standing silently, was apart from the group at the edge of
the woods.  Turning the problems of his mission over in his mind, he
was almost unaware of his surroundings.  This high up on the
mountainside, a variety of pines was the only trees growing.  The
ground, littered with pine needles, was soft, deadening most sounds.
      "Do you like it here?"  Jenna's quiet but musical voice startled
Apollo.  He hadn't heard her approach.  Looking into her eyes, he
sensed the question held a deeper meaning than simply asking if he
liked this particular mountain spot.  The earnest tone underlying the
words gave him pause for thought. 
      "It's very beautiful here," he said with a smile, his dimple
creasing his cheek.  "There are few places I've been that come anywhere
close."
      "Do you travel much?" she asked.
      "I've traveled a bit, but not much recently," he replied.  "Have
you traveled a great deal yourself?"
      A sudden light in her eyes gave him her answer before she spoke. 
"I used to travel extensively with my uncle, but haven't done much of
anything these past five years."  
      There it was again, the reference to 'five years'.  Apollo was
quick to take note of it.  He tried to get her to confide in him. 
"What happened to make you settle?  Tired of traveling?"  He tried to
look beyond the surface, to discover the knowledge she was keeping from
him.
      "Oh, no," she said quickly.  "I..." a veil dropped over her eyes,
dulling the sparkle that had been there a moment before.
      "You what?" he prompted as the silence lengthened between them,
trying to open the communications once again.
      "I...  I'd best put the food and gear away," she said, moving
hurriedly away.
      "Jenna!" he called after her, frustration edging his voice.  She
slowed and gave him a brief smile over her shoulder, then went quickly
to the table and began to put away the food.
      "Apollo!"  Rory called to him just then.  "Come and look at this!" 
Apollo glanced over at Rory, on one knee, examining the ground on the
far side of the clearing.  With another frustrated look at Jenna's back
he turned, heading towards Rory, Mike joining him midway in the
clearing.  
      The ground was soft due to the proximity of the stream and recent
rains.  Pine needles were almost non-existent here and animal tracks
could be clearly seen in the damp earth.
      The one Rory pointed to was larger than the rest, the indentation
deeper from a heavier weight.  Apollo had seen nothing like it before.
      "Wow, that looks like a big cat!"  The awe in Mike's voice was
evident.  
      Charles, joining them, gasped audibly.  "It must be huge!" he
said, his eyes widening a bit with fear.  Apollo, trying to correlate
the fairly small animals he had seen in the city which people had
called by that name to the size of this track, was dumbfounded.
      The small alley cats could never make a track this large, yet Mike
had plainly called it 'cat'.  The difference between 'dog' and 'prairie
dog' crossed his mind and he wondered if the anomaly were similar.
      Looking around the clearing, Apollo saw Jenna downstream a bit
rinsing their tin cups from lunch.  Glen, finished with packing the
horses once more, joined them at the stream's edge.
      Concern showed on his face when he saw the size of the track and
the depth of the indentation.  
      "What do you think, Sir?" asked Apollo, watching his face closely. 
The others stepped back, allowing Glen to examine the print carefully. 
Kneeling beside it, Glen measured it against his hand and looked up
into the faces around him.  "This must be the great grandpappy," he
said with a grim half-smile.  "The size of that thing... he must weigh
175-200 pounds, easy."
      "A two hundred pound cat?"  Apollo said, incredulity covering his
features.
      "Cat, mountain lion, puma, cougar... same difference."  Glen said
as he stood up, brushing the dirt from his knee.  "There's only one
thing that bothers me," he continued.  "That track is fairly fresh,
probably made sometime this morning."
      "How big a danger does this cat pose for us?"  Apollo wanted to
know.
      "Are you kidding?"  Charles snorted.  "They'll eat a man for
lunch!"  Apollo looked at Charles, trying to judge the truth of his
statement.  Seeing the fear still in his eyes, Apollo looked back at
Glen.
      "Is it likely to attack a man?"  Concern marked Apollo's face.
      "Not generally," Glen replied slowly, "unless cornered or
provoked."
      "Or very hungry," Mike added.
      "Cripes, do you think it'll come after us?"  Rory asked.  Jenna,
joining them at that moment spoke up.  "Do you think what will come
after us?"
      "A mountain lion, my dear."  Glen said mildly.  "Rory here found a
fairly large track."  Jenna paled a little then pursed her lips, saying
nothing, dipping her head to study the track.
      "What are we going to do?"  Apollo said, appealing to Glen.  "You
know the terrain best."
      "I'd say we get a move on.  Get to our camp quickly while we have
plenty of daylight and search that area for tracks.  If we find none,
we'll stay there.  Otherwise, we'll move to a second area I know.  In
the meantime, stay close together.  It won't be in a big hurry for
lunch if there are several of us together at all times."  Turning, he
headed for his pack and the horses.
      The next two hours slipped by quickly, as the hunters, a sense of
urgency in their step, hurried along the trail uncomplaining at the
pace Glen set.  They kept the gaps between them small.
      Arriving at the clearing designated for their overnight camp, all
hands made a diligent search of the surrounding area but found no
prints.  Therefore, Glen ordered camp to be set up.  Each person chose
their own spot and began to set up their tents.  Apollo went to the
edge of the clearing and found two sturdy likely looking trees, close
enough for his purposes.  
      Opening his pack, he removed a small packet containing a
gauzy-looking material and some thin twine.  Tying the twine around the
trees, his hammock was stretched out.  Mike came over to see what he
was doing.  
      "That hammock looks mighty flimsy, Apollo.  Sure it'll hold your
weight?"  
      Apollo grinned.  "Well, it held me in a tree-top during a
windstorm on... a real stormy night."  Apollo barely stopped himself
from naming the planet he'd been on at the time.  "I suppose it'll hold
me up one more night.  The fabric is a lot stronger than it looks."  
      Mike reached out and examined the thin material between his
fingers.  "I sure hope so.  What's it made of, anyway?  I've never seen
anything like it."
      "Ah, it's an experimental fabric I'm lucky enough to get to field
test.  I'm not sure what it's made of.  I don't think it has a name
yet."  He turned back to his pack and pulled out a thin rope about the
thickness of macram‚ twine and began to string it between the trees
above the hammock.
      Mike persisted, "But where'd you get it?  What company makes it? 
I'd like one to test, too."
      Apollo said, "I'm not supposed to talk about the experiment too
much.  It's a new secret material."
      "Oh," said Mike, his voice showing a bit of disappointment. 
Apollo reached into his pack and pulled out a silver colored tarp.  He
unfolded it and draped it over the line he had just tied.  
      Grateful to his instructor in the survival class he'd had to take
at the academy, he thought, 'I may not know the difference between a
dog and a prairie dog or cats, however large, but at least I can set up
a decent camp and take care of myself in the woods.  You don't have to
know the name of whatever's trying to eat you for lunch or dinner in
order to protect yourself against it.'
      Mike spoke up again, interrupting Apollo's thoughts.  "That twine
is awfully thin.  Betcha it sags and you have your tarp on your face in
the morning."  Laughter was in his voice.
      Apollo smiled again.  "It won't sag.  It's stronger than it
looks."  
      Mike said, "You got it at the same place... experimental, right?"
      "Right."  Apollo's face broke into a wide grin, his white teeth
flashing brightly.  Tying shorter lengths of twine through the grommets
in the edges of the silver fabric, then removing several plastic-type
tent stakes from his pack, he proceeded to fasten the tarp to the
ground, spreading the edges out to make a triangular tent.  Reaching
once again into his pack, he removed a smaller piece of silver fabric,
which he laid on the hammock.
      "No sleeping bag?" asked Mike, incredulous.  "Nights get pretty
cold up here.
      "No."  Apollo nodded toward the hammock.  "The blanket will keep
me plenty warm.  It tends to re-cycle body heat."
      "Let me guess," Mike said, his voice now dripping with sarcasm,
"It's experimental, and it's warmer than it looks."
      "You got it!"  Apollo laughed.  
      Mike stepped closer.  "What else have you got in that pack?"
      Apollo looked inside, listing most of the articles for Mike. 
"Cleaning kit for my weapon, spare ammunition, a hatchet, compass,
soap, cooking gear, ditty bag, a wire saw, first aid kit, canteen,
spare clothing."
      Mike, still very curious, said, "Well, it sounds pretty complete. 
I guess you do know a little about camping out.  I wasn't too sure when
I saw your reaction to that cat's track today."
      "Well," Apollo said carefully.  "I've been camping before.  I used
to go a lot as a boy and I've even had a course in how to survive in... 
strange and hostile environments.  I've just never seen a cat's print
that large before and it temporarily stunned me."
      Mike grinned.  "Knew it must be something like that.  It sure was
BIG!  It even scared Charles; do you see the look on his face?  It's
amazing that even the big guys aren't all that tough!  But, hey, come
on; Glen wants us to stay in twos and get a big pile of wood for the
dinner fire.  We also need some extra in case we decide to keep the
fire going all night."  
      "Will that be necessary?"  Apollo asked, watching Mike's face for
reactions to the possibility of the cat's being nearby.
      "It might be, if that cat decides to put in an appearance.  Wild
animals tend to avoid fires."
      "That makes sense."  Apollo picked up his pack and hung it on a
convenient limb stub about four feet from the ground where a branch had
broken off of the tree.  "I'm ready.  Let's go."
      "I'll gather the wood and you can keep watch," Mike offered. 
Apollo nodded his agreement and, as they moved off into the denser
undergrowth together, his hand lightly dropped to the comforting weight
of the laser pistol hanging from his belt.

CHAPTER THREE

      The rain had begun just after dark, falling lightly but steadily
until the early hours of the morning.  Now the only remains were silver
grey clouds, chasing hurriedly across the sky.  The sun was just
rising, tinting the clouds a pretty pink along the eastern horizon,
when Apollo opened his eyes.  Pleased that he had slept so well, he was
delighted to find that he was still all here.  He clearly recalled
Charles' last comment before they had parted for sleep, made more
chilling by the fact that no one had laughed or contradicted what he
had uttered.
      "Better watch out, Apollo, cats like to climb trees!"  
      Rising from his hammock and slipping on his boots, he tucked his
laser away in its holster and stretched.  Hearing a slight noise, he
ducked out of his tent to see Jenna trying to start a fire with wood
that was wet from last night's rain.  
      Seeing her, he felt again the frustration of trying to speak with
her last night only to have Rory hanging around constantly, teasing and
flirting.  Apollo was sure Jenna had welcomed Rory's advances just to
thwart him and keep the distance, or Rory, between them.  She was
acting almost as if she were afraid of him, which puzzled him.  If he
could just get her to trust him, he thought as he ducked back into the
tent.
      Removing a small, flat cylinder from his pack, he left the tent
and casually wandered over to the fire pit. 
      "Good morning, Jenna," he said warmly.  Kneeling beside her, he
continued.  "Why don't you go grab the eggs and I'll see if I can get
this thing started for you?"
      Jenna, standing up, said, "We'll just have to wait until the sun
dries out the wood some more.  It's no use trying to start damp wood." 

      Apollo smiled up at her.  "Well, I'll have a try at it anyway.  I
may have a trick or two up my sleeve."
      Jenna moved away to where they had cached the food the night
before and Apollo quickly shoved the cylinder under the wood and
pressed the button on the side.  The bottom of the cylinder began to
smoke somewhat and he could hear Jenna's steps returning from behind
him.  He prayed the incinerator would start the wood before she reached
him and saw it.  
      As she walked over to get the eggs, Jenna decided she would have
to trust him sooner or later; the worst he could do was turn her over
to the Cylons.  She'd been there and escaped before.  She could do it
again.  At best, she'd soon be home with her Uncle Xavier.  
      She got the eggs and came back toward Apollo.  She'd seen what
he'd held in his hand and mused,  'He can't have been gone from his
base very long.'  She smiled to herself.  'Not if he's willing to waste
an incinerator on slightly damp wood.'
      She slowed her pace, timing her arrival so the fire would start
before she reached his side.  'Get your courage up, Jenna babe; time to
let him know who you are!'
      The flames began to come from holes in the cylinder's sides and,
just as Jenna walked up beside him, the damp wood burst into flames. 
Jenna couldn't resist one last tease before she showed her hand.  His
answers would guide her own revelations.
      She sniffed the air.  "What's that peculiar smell?" 
      Apollo started.  He'd forgotten that burning tylium gave off a
unique and somewhat stale odor that might be offensive to someone not
accustomed to it.  He shrugged his shoulders.
      Jenna continued, watching his face closely, a smile on her own in
anticipation of his reactions.  "Smells like some kind of burning fuel. 
Did you have to use lighter fluid to get it started?"
      Apollo fed some small pieces of wood to the growing, hungry flames
and shrugged.  "Sort of.  Not really."  His reluctance to answer gave
her the feeling that he wasn't trying to show off, that he just wanted
to help her.  At the same time, he wasn't being sneaky nor did he give
the feeling he was being secretive like a spy would tend to do. 
Besides, a spy would probably use a local weapon as a visible sidearm
and keep the laser pistol hidden.  'Well,' she thought, 'here goes
nothing -- or everything!'
      She sniffed again.  "I still say you used some sort of fuel to
start it.  If I didn't know better, I'd say maybe..." she sniffed
again, "tylium."
      Apollo jumped to his feet and grabbed her arms.
      "Tylium!" he echoed.  "Where did you hear that word?"  
      His near-violent reaction startled Jenna and she looked at the
ground between them, gathering her reserves of courage, then up at
Apollo.  Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Glen came striding up,
his voice angry.
      "Hey!  Get your hands off my niece.  What's the matter with you,
Apollo?  You know the rules!"
      Apollo dropped his hands to his sides and took a step back but
continued to stare intently at Jenna.  The next move was hers to make. 
Jenna dropped her eyes to the ground again, avoiding his piercing look. 
She certainly couldn't talk now that Glen was here.  
      Realizing how the scene must have appeared to anyone out of
earshot, Apollo decided that now was not the time to press the issue,
but press it he certainly would.  Later.  
      Replying to Glen's question, he said, "Nothing's wrong.  Excuse
me, I need to strike my gear and stow it for today's hike."
      Turning sharply on one heel, he moved past Glen toward his tent,
his mind whirling in circles.  He quickly put away his camp gear, then
pulled out his log, recording in it everything he knew about Jenna and
all the scraps of conversation he could remember.  He read it over.  It
wasn't a very long entry.  He shook his head as if to clear away the
confusion he felt and put away his datapad.  By now the others were up
and about and breakfast was nearly ready.
      Jenna fumed as she fixed breakfast.  'Why did Glen have to
interrupt just when I'd gathered all my courage?  Drat him!'
      Then she castigated herself.  'And did you see the look in
Apollo's eyes?  He's angry because you didn't exonerate his actions. 
He's not about to explain to Glen why it looked like he was about to
assault you.  Better stay out of his way until he calms down some. 
Take the horse out in the front or something.  You know he's not going
to let the subject drop!  Not now you've said 'tylium'.  For better or
for worse, you're in it now, girl!'  One thought did give her hope,
however.  Apollo did not give her away to Glen, even in defense of
himself.  That was reassuring.  Very reassuring!

*        *        *        *        *

      When camp had been struck they set out again, following Glen and
his horse, who was followed almost immediately by Jenna and her horse. 
Apollo once again took up the rear, this time so he could have time to
calmly think.  There was so much he needed to sort out, yet to get
anywhere, he needed some answers from Jenna.  And she was avoiding him
now more than ever.
      The day was pleasant, although quite chill, and a stiff breeze was
blowing.  The sky was full of clouds in a broken layer not too far
above them; white and fluffy, like cotton balls spilled on a glass
table, tumbling over each other in the heavens.
      Again they climbed quite steeply, but being above the area of
large jagged rocks that they had traversed the day before, it was not
quite as difficult a hike.
      There was no trail here, but Glen led them without hesitation
through the woods.  Most of the rocks had different kinds of fungus on
them, in various shades of green and grey, although one type was a
rusty orange color.  Apollo noticed the majority of the moss grew on
the same side of the trees.  'Nature's compass' he mused to himself,
'but which way does it point here?'  
      A tentative question to Rory, just ahead of him, gave him the
answer he desired, as well as much other information mixed with
folklore and woodcraft.  Apparently Rory wasn't as citified as he
appeared, even if he did spend most of the time fixing computers for
large companies as he had explained to Apollo the first night they had
met.
      Apollo smiled to himself and let Rory ramble on, soaking up the
new information about the planet that he might be spending the rest of
his life on... if he couldn't find a way to fix his viper.  His
superior officers were certainly smart enough not to send in a third
person where two had disappeared, so if he couldn't find his own way
home or at least a way to communicate with them, he was definitely
stranded.
      Rory stopped in dismay as a slight breeze brought them a pungent
and unpleasant order.
      "What is it?"  Apollo wanted to know.
      Rory grimaced and continued walking.  "Skunk cabbage.  Someone
must have stepped on it."  They soon passed a low, broad-leafed plant
with a white stripe running down its vein.  A further question had Rory
explaining about the animal for which the plant had been named and its
unpleasant habits of defense.
      After a short climb, they began to hear rushing water and
presently came to the edge of a river.  Apollo measured it with his eye
and estimated it to be approximately ten feet across.
      Glen crouched at the water's edge, shaking his head.  Mike knelt
on one knee beside him, saying, "What do you think, Boss?  I've never
seen it so deep or wide."
      Glen agreed.  "Neither have I.  Get everyone over here for a
council, would you?"  Mike nodded and moved off.
      As the group gathered in a knot, there were several concerned
looks at the river.  Glen stood and began to speak.
      "I have never seen this river flooded so badly before.  The water
is swift and will be deep.  The best hunting is on the other side.  If
we don't cross, we probably won't get our deer, unless you're willing
to settle for one like John's."  There were a few chuckles, and a good
deal of the tension in the group evaporated.  Glen continued.  "I feel
if we take some sensible precautions, we can cross the river safely at
a place upstream where it is a little shallower.  Also recall that the
cat is somewhere on this side of the river.  If the river rises much
further, we won't be able to get back across for awhile.  And, if it
keeps raining, the river will continue to rise.  This is a decision I
feel needs to be made by the group as a whole.  Let's hear your
comments."
      Mike was the first to speak.  "I'm with you.  I vote to cross.  I
think I know the spot you're referring to and I think we can make it."
      Apollo asked, "What kind of precautions do you mean?"
      Charles answered with a shrug.  "String a rope across, build a
raft for the packs, or better yet, use Rory's and cross in twos,
helping the horses to cross.  Build a fire on the other side to dry us
all out and warm us up."  There was a little air of smugness about him
that said he rather thought Apollo was a bit slow, if he didn't even
know how to cross a stream.  
      Ignoring the sarcasm, Apollo nodded and said to Glen, "I trust
your judgment.  I'd like to cross and continue the trek."
      Rory nodded his agreement and said, "Let's get started."  
      Charles began to walk upstream, saying, "Might as well get it over
with."  Jenna walked up front with Charles, avoiding Apollo at all
costs, the horse she was leading snorting nervously near her ear.
      A fifteen-minute's walk brought them to a small clearing.  The
river was still swift here, but the water appeared less turbulent.  It
was also wider here, being about fifteen feet across.  A large tree had
fallen part of the way into the river, causing angry currents in its
wake.
      Everyone removed their packs and went to work just above the
fallen tree.  Obviously they'd done this before, as they were a
well-synchronized group.  Apollo watched and helped where he could.  
      Glen pulled a barbed spear from the horse's pack and threaded a
thin twine through the eye at one end.  Taking careful aim, he threw it
to the other side of the river where the barb caught in the low fork of
a tree.  Applying his weight to the doubled twine, Glen proved the
connection sure.  He then spliced a heavier rope to one end of the
twine and pulled it through.  He continued pulling until he was holding
both ends of the rope, which he passed around a sturdy tree and
carefully tied a knot that wouldn't slip.
      The rope now hung about an arm's reach above the water, far enough
upstream of the fallen tree to avoid the currents there.
      Mike and Rory inflated the small raft Rory habitually carried and
rigged ropes that looped over the safety rope Glen assembled.  Jenna
and Charles removed the food packs from Glen's horse and set it in the
raft along with the other packs.  The poles and webbing from the horse
Jenna had been leading were lashed to the outer side of the raft. 
Apollo still hadn't seen the use for those poles yet but hoped he would
before the trip was over.
      Charles pulled a tarp from his pack and wrapped the rifles in it,
stowing the bundle in the raft.  Another, smaller tarp was used for the
pistols.  Apollo's laser being waterproof, he decided he'd rather
continue wearing it and no one asked him for it.  In fact, no one had
asked for any of the weapons.  The tarp had simply been spread on the
ground and the sidearms had all found their way onto it in time to be
wrapped up and placed protectively in the raft.
      Once all the packs and weapons were secured in the raft and the
raft attached to the safety line, Glen explained the division of duties
for each.  Charles and Apollo would ferry the raft to the far bank and
then gather wood for the fire.  Mike and Rory would follow with Glen's
horse.  Glen and Jenna would then bring the second horse across.
      Rory protested that Jenna was too small to handle a skittish horse
in the deep, swift water and suggested she should go with the raft. 
Glen reminded Rory the horse trusted no one but Jenna, so it would be
safer for all concerned if she helped lead it.  Grudgingly Rory
acquiesced.
      Everything ready, Apollo and Charles started across the river,
Charles leading the raft and Apollo pushing it, each man holding the
raft with one hand, the safety rope with the other.  The water was very
cold.  By the time they were up to their waists in it, their feet had
started to numb.
      As they waded deeper, the currents became swifter and stronger,
nearly dragging them off their feet.  In the center of the stream, the
muddy water was up to their chests.  A large piece of wood being
carried downstream in the water hit Apollo and he lost his grip on the
raft as well as his footing and fell, getting thoroughly soaked and
swallowing a great deal of the muddy, icy water.
      He finally found a semi-firm place to put his feet and stood up
again, spluttering and shivering; grateful he'd managed to keep hold of
the safety line.  Pushing his hair as well as the excess water out of
his face, he could barely hear Charles shouting above the roar of the
water.  "Are you all right, Apollo?"
      Still gasping for air, Apollo nodded and motioned for them to move
on.  Apollo took hold of the raft again and they resumed their course
to the far shore, reaching it without further incident.
      Charles immediately set out to find firewood so they would be able
to dry out and get warm before hiking further.
      Apollo cleared a space for the fire and gathered some fallen
pinecones to use for tinder.  As he set the cones down, he noticed one
reddish-brown branch protruding from an otherwise deep green tree. 
Hoping it was dead as it looked, he broke it from the tree and laid it
near the cones.  It felt as dry as it looked and Apollo was glad.
      He sat on a stump trying to regain some of the strength the river
had stolen from him.  Apollo soon shifted his position to sit on the
ground beside the stump so as to be out of the wind now blowing across
the river toward him, yet allowing him to watch the crossings as he
awaited Charles.
      Mike and Rory were now mid-stream, a horse between them.  Mike
being slightly shorter than the other man, had a more difficult time
keeping his footing against the current, however, they were able to
cross without problems.  Charles returned with some wood and left to
find more.  Mike and Apollo lit the fire while Rory began to rub the
horse down with a towel taken from one of the packs.
      After some discussion and much calming of the second horse, Glen
and Jenna finally entered the water.  Glen walked on the up-stream side
so Jenna could hold on to both the horse and the safety rope.  
      As they began to cross, Rory saw a flicker of movement in the
trees Glen and Jenna had just left.  He pointed out to Mike and Apollo
the huge cougar slowly moving towards the river.  The noise of the
river made it impossible to warn those still in the water.  The horses
smelled the cougar and danger and started to dance with fear.  Mike
quickly moved to help Rory hold and calm the animal on this side as it
also sensed the danger the cougar held.  The three men stood tensely at
the water's edge, watching both the approaching cougar and the people
in the water. 
      Just as Glen and Jenna reached midstream, the cougar appeared to
notice that the people were removing his intended lunch.  He leaped to
the edge of the water, snarling.
      The big cat's yowls of frustration carried on the wind to the
already frightened horse midstream and he reared up, as if to meet his
enemy.
      In her efforts to calm the horse, Jenna let go of the safety line,
reaching for his bridle with both hands.  The horse came down
off-balance in the swiftly moving water.  Trying to regain its footing,
the horse knocked hard against Jenna.  She tried to grab the safety
rope, but missed, her fingertips just brushing it, then the tide caused
her to lose her already precarious footing.
      Firmly holding the bridle while the horse bucked against it, Glen
could not see Jenna as the current drew her away and threw her against
the large tree.  She screamed once before being pulled under both the
water and the tree.
      Apollo, already wet and unencumbered by any of the horses, dove
into the water after her.  Together they came out from under the far
side of the tree and were swiftly pulled downstream.
      Rory slid back into the water and helped Glen get the horse to the
bank.  Mike and Rory quickly told Glen what had happened to Jenna and
Apollo.  They wanted to set off immediately in search of the two, but
Glen told them they'd best wait for Charles to return first to apprise
him of the situation.  While they were waiting for Charles, Glen
suggested the time should be used to dry the horses and themselves.
      With many a worried look downstream, Mike and Rory rubbed the
horses down and waited in the warmth of the fire, chafing at the delay
but knowing it was necessary for the best good of the whole party to
find Charles first.

CHAPTER FOUR

      By the time Apollo reached Jenna under the tree, she was
unconscious.  He took hold of her and struggled to keep both their
heads above the water.  They were moving very quickly downstream with
the force of the current.  Apollo knew he needed to get them both out
of the water soon or he would be too cold to move and they both would
drown.  Precious minutes passed which felt like an eternity, but the
current was too strong to fight against and still keep Jenna's head
above the water. 
      Suddenly the river came to a wide meadow where it had over-run its
banks and the speed of the water slowed considerably.  Apollo got his
feet under him and was able to drag Jenna to the nearest bank and pull
her out of the water and onto the bank. 
      Looking down at the still-unconscious girl in his arms, he
realized she was soaked through and although that was a concern, it
wasn't his major consideration.  He noticed her hair and clothes were
plastered to her skin, her face streaked with mud and water.  Her
shallow breathing was the only indication to Apollo that she hadn't
drowned.  Laying her gently down on the grassy verge, her shoulders
propped against a small log; he began to look for the injuries which
were his first and major concern.
      The left leg of her jeans was ripped open across her thigh and,
upon examination, Apollo found a large cut that should be cleansed and
closed immediately before she bled to death.
      "I need my pack," Apollo muttered under his breath, "my medikit's
in it."  As he tried to move Jenna gently to get a better look at the
wound, Apollo's fingers touched the worn leather pouch hanging from her
belt.  He unstrapped the pouch to get it out of his way and felt an
indentation on the front that struck a responsive chord in his fingers. 
Brushing away the mud, he saw that the tooled insignia exactly matched
the patches on his uniform.  He frowned.
      Quickly opening the leather flap, he confirmed his startled
suspicions; it was a standard issue medikit.  It had been used quite a
bit, he thought, judging from the scant amount of medications left in
it, but where did she get it?  From the warrior whose laser she'd seen
five years ago?  
      Forcibly he brought his attention back to the situation at hand. 
At least he could use it to save her life.  He bent to the task,
thinking as he worked.  After he saved her, he determined he'd make
very sure he obtained answers to each and every one of his many and
perturbing questions.
      His cold fingers working slowly, Apollo cleaned and closed the
wound, then injected her with a combination antibiotic and stimulant,
grateful there was some of it left in the kit.
      Jenna moaned and opened her eyes, her fingertips gingerly
exploring a large tender lump over one ear.  Apollo, still kneeling
beside her, shut the medikit and handed it to her with a cynical smile,
saying, "I'm no medtech; you're going to have a scar, but at least
you're not bleeding anymore."  
      Jenna sat up slowly and looked at the crooked red mark on her leg,
running her fingers gingerly down its length.  
      "Not bad for field work," she said with an answering smile that
held no trace of cynicism or sarcasm, just gratitude.
      She looked him over as she said, "Thanks.  Now sit still and let
me patch up your arm.  You're dripping blood on me." 
      Apollo looked down at the arm she had motioned to and gasped.  Due
to the coldness of the river, he hadn't felt any pain as something had
sliced his arm open.  It was a protracted cut nearly the length of his
arm.  While it didn't go very deep, there was a large flap of tissue
hanging loose.  Fortunately, whatever had sliced him had missed his
major blood vessels and the wound wasn't bleeding as badly as Jenna's
leg had been.
      He sat still, his teeth clenched together, offering Jenna his arm
while she re-opened the medikit, cleansed the wound and began to lay
each layer of tissue down and seal it into place.  She finished,
leaving a long, straight scar down the length of his forearm.  She
looked up at him, her eyes very serious.
      "I know that must hurt.  I'd offer you a painkiller, but I'm out. 
You'll scar, as well," she said with a slight grimace.  "I'm not very
good at first aid.  That's why I'm a warrior, not a life-station
attendant.  
      "You're a warrior?"  Apollo demanded, his voice full of amazement. 
"You're a warrior?"  Jenna nodded, smiling a little at the different
inflections he had used on the same words, lending nearly a different
meaning to each phrase.  
      Apollo continued.  "That explains almost everything.  But why
don't I know you?"
      Jenna smiled wider.  "I've been trying to figure that one out
myself.  I know most of the officers in the fleet, but not you.  Where
are you from?"
      Apollo smiled back as he answered.  "Caprica."
      "Caprica!"  Her exclamation held disbelief and shock.  "Caprica's
a legend.  Why, it no more exists than Kobol does!"
      Apollo's smile faded.  "I was born on Caprica.  I was raised there
and I graduated from the academy there.  I've been to Kobol, to the
planet's surface.  I've seen the relics there."  He hesitated a moment
and his voice dropped nearly to a whisper.  "Many fine warriors died
there at Cylon hands."  Jenna saw the deep pain in Apollo's eyes, heard
the anguish in his voice and was ashamed of her thoughtless outburst.
      "I... I'm sorry.  It's just that it's hard to believe in the fairy
tales you're told as a child."  She looked away from him, toward the
woods, color flooding her cheeks.
      Apollo nodded, remembering how he felt the first time he'd heard
his father say they were going to try to find Earth... a fairy tale
he'd been told as a child.  
      Gently, with no rebuke in his tone, Apollo said, "Sometimes you
have to believe in what seems impossible.  Please allow me to properly
introduce myself.  Flight Captain Apollo, from the Battlestar
Galactica.  And you are..."
      "Lieutenant..." a sudden movement from the woods caught her eye. 
"Apollo!  The cat!"  Jenna screamed, struggling to rise to her feet.
      Apollo was on his feet and turning instantly, his hand reaching
automatically for his laser as the cougar leaped toward him, snarling. 
He was able to fire his pistol only once before the weight of the cat
knocked him to the ground.  The laser flew from his hand, bouncing on a
rock before coming to rest in the grass.
      Jenna dove for the pistol and came up balanced precariously on her
left hip and hand, but the laser was pointed unerringly at the pair,
from which came no movement for a long, awful moment.  Then, slowly,
Apollo shoved the dead cougar off to one side and carefully rose to his
feet, dabbing at a new scratch on his face with the back of his hand.
      Jenna stood now also and handed him the laser.  He accepted it and
returned it to its resting-place in the holster.  Jenna unconsciously
rubbed her leg along the wound to ease the discomfort the rapid
movements had caused.  Her voice was shaky, the color once again gone
from her cheeks.  
      "You're a good shot," she said.  "Thanks for saving my life
...again."  Her eyes seemed very large in her white face.  Apollo
helped her to limp over to a fallen log and sit down.  She shivered in
the quickening wind.
      "Don't think about it.  I was lucky."  Apollo stood from helping
her and smiled.  "I'll tell you what.  I'll get some wood so we can get
a fire going and dry off.  You rest here and when I get back, you can
tell me what happened five years ago to bring you here.  Okay?"  Apollo
deliberately kept his voice light and almost unconcerned, knowing it
would help keep the seriousness of their situation from Jenna's
conscious thought and help dispel the shock of all she had been through
in the last few hours.  Jenna nodded, knowing what he was trying to do,
yet still experiencing a little of the normal reactions to her past
several hours and more especially to the shock of meeting possible
death more than once.  Then, the staggering wonder of meeting another
warrior here on Earth...!  She shivered once more, but she couldn't
determine if it was excitement or shock or the cold wind on her
still-damp body.
      Apollo soon returned with an armload of wood and built a fire
using matches from Jenna's medikit.  He had teased her about having
them in there, but she explained it was a good place to keep them dry
and she could always find them.  As they warmed and dried out, Jenna
started to speak.
      "As I began to say, I'm Lieutenant Jenna, from the Battlestar
Octavia.  I was born on Terradia, which in standard translates as
'Earth-home'.
      Apollo smiled across the fire at her.  "I know.  I've been there,
too."
      Jenna's eyes sparkled with excitement.  "You have?  How long ago? 
Was everything okay?  Did you meet Commander Xavier?  How was he?"
      Apollo laughed, holding up a hand to stem the excited flow of
questions from Jenna.  "Hey, slow down!  One question at a time.  Yes,
I've been to Terradia.  I taught a class at the academy there seven
yahrens ago while the Galactica was being re-fitted.  I didn't get a
chance to meet Commander Xavier, but if half the stories are true, he
must be some leader!"
      "He is!  I'd rather serve under him than anywhere else in the
fleet."  The pride for her commander shone in her eyes, sounded in her
voice.  Unconsciously she squared her shoulders, sitting straighter on
her log.
      Apollo smiled, his thoughts turning momentarily to his own
commander and father, whom he deeply loved.  That respect and love
tinged his voice as he said,  "Most of us on the Galactica feel the
same about Commander Adama."  
      They shared a few moments' quiet peace, each within their own
thoughts.  Then Apollo turned once again to Jenna.  "How did you end up
here?"  Concern and curiosity were mirrored in his eyes.
      Taking a deep breath to steady her voice and keep from crying in
sheer relief at finally being able to talk to another warrior, Jenna
began.  "As you probably know, this Earth, Sol 3, is very near to the
Cylon/Human frontier.  The Cylons aren't supposed to be here because
it's well within our space, but we've been patrolling and protecting
this star system for over a hundred yahrens."  
      Apollo nodded, saying, "I understand that the Bureau of Humanities
believes this group will be extremely advanced technologically, when
they finally grow up!"
      His grin had pure mischief in it.  She realized he was trying to
tease her, but rose to the bait anyway.  "They've actually progressed
quite dramatically in the last fifty yahrens!  Anyway, I was on patrol
from the Octavia.  We were doing a routine scan of the surface when
just for a micron, Jaramee picked up a trio of extremely advanced
fighters."
      "Jaramee?"  Apollo questioned.
      "My wingmate."  She dimpled.  "He was a special friend."  Pain
crossed her face as she remembered the last time she had seen Jaramee. 
Jenna continued.
      "There was just the two of us on the patrol when we caught the
scan.  Naturally we moved in closer to get a better look.  We called
for back up and ended up in quite a battle.  Jaramee and I were closest
to the atmosphere, covering the low side, or trying to, when we were
jumped by the trio of Cylon ships that never showed up on the scanner. 
They destroyed Jaramee's viper and damaged mine, forcing me to the
surface.
      "As soon as I touched down, I set my viper for self-destruct.  I
had several experimental devices on board I didn't want the Cylons to
see.  They landed a few centons behind me; I was slightly injured in
the landing and couldn't outrun them.  I spent a yahren or so being
'interrogated'.  Finally I saw a chance to make my run, so I did.  They
never came after me.  Their base is in the middle of a desert, so I
guess they figured a mere human couldn't make it out of there without
water, especially one in my physical state, and live to tell about it.
      "Glen and Hannah were out camping; they found me and took me to
their home.  I had no ID, nothing but the tattered remains of my
uniform and my medikit, which I found by sheer luck on the way out of
the base.
      "They nursed me back to health and sort of adopted me.  They've
taught me most of the customs here and the language is close enough to
standard for general purposes.  My official story is that I can't
remember anything from before they found me, except my name.  They
figure it's trauma from whatever accident beat me up so badly and I
just never enlightened them.  She shrugged her slender shoulders.
      "What about yourself?  When you don't make it back to the ship
after a shoot-out with the Cylons, you are presumed dead.  So you're
not here to find me.  How and why are you here, Captain?"  Jenna
closely watched Apollo's face.  She had found many times that a face
told much more than the words being spoken.
      Apollo's lips tightened as she used his rank.  "Apollo, please. 
At least for as long as we're here.  Agreed?"  At her nod, he smiled
briefly and continued, but with questions not answers to her own
queries.
      "You mentioned traveling with your uncle?  Surely you weren't
referring to Glen if he's local."
      A smile teased the corners of Jenna's mouth.  "Nooo-o-o," she
said.  "But you were supposed to think I meant him."
      Her smile faded as she realized Apollo wanted the rest of her
story before he would give her the answers she sought.  She looked away
from him, the pain of her own past showing in her eyes.  Jenna didn't
yet want Apollo to know how much that past still hurt, so she stared
into the fire, unable to meet his eyes. 
      "Go on," he gently urged her, watching her carefully.  He had seen
the pain, but needed the rest of her answers before he could tell her
about himself and his mission.
      A sigh came from deep within her.  Keeping her eyes on the fire,
she softly continued.  "My father was assigned to an outpost planet
named Decima when I was quite young.  My mother and I went with him,
because it was a ten-yahren assignment.  There was a Cylon raid.  I was
orphaned.  I decided right then I would be a warrior when I was old
enough so I could make the Cylons pay for what they'd done to my
parents."  Her determination was made apparent in the tone of her
voice.  
      Apollo could understand somewhat, remembering how he felt about
his own mother's death.  At least he had still had his father and
sister when the attacks were over.  Compassion in his voice, he asked,
"How old were you then?"
      Surprised by this concern, Jenna looked up at Apollo's face.  "I
was about six."  His face was closed; she could read nothing there,
only his voice had given him away.  
      She returned her gaze to the flames in front of her.  "Uncle
Xavier got permission to raise me himself rather than send me to the
displaced children's lodge, so I was reared on the Octavia and did my
bit of traveling with him.  After I graduated from the Academy at
Terradia, I was very lucky to then be assigned to serve on the
Octavia."  Quiet pride filled her soft voice and her eyes were shining
with that accomplishment.
      "'Uncle Xavier?'  Commander Xavier is you Uncle?"  Amazement
tinged Apollo's voice.
      Jenna nodded and grinned.  "Some people say that's why I got
assigned to Octavia, but it isn't!  I earned it.  I had to keep my
scores pretty high to get it, too.  Everyone wants to be on the Octavia
because her record is the best in the fleet."  She paused, her eyes
softening as she thought of her uncle and her ship.  "She's more my
home than Terradia is, having spent most of my life on board."
      Apollo's eyes twinkling with mischief, he flatly stated, "That
'best record' as far as efficiency goes is very closely matched by the
Galactica.  I think we're going to beat you out soon, then they'll have
to make up a bunch of stories about Commander Adama to tell the
cadets."
      She grinned back.  "You'll never beat our record, but you might
come close!  And if you really came all the way from Caprica, all the
stories are already there and just waiting to be told."  Her face once
again became serious.  She dared once again ask the question she needed
an answer to.  "How did you get here, Ca...  Apollo?" she amended
quickly.
      Apollo put more wood on the fire, ignoring the small relapse to
his request regarding his rank.  Finished with the wood, he sat back
and looked at her.  
      "How did I get here to Earth, or how did I get here from Caprica?" 
There was more than a hint of amusement in his eyes, a slight smile
hovering about his lips.  Jenna gave an exasperated sigh, rolling her
eyes to the sky.  Then her face cleared and her gaze pinned him
directly.  "Both!  Chronologically, please."  Her grin was wide, but
her eyes were serious.  Apollo gave his own sigh, unconsciously
massaging his wounded arm.  A faraway look came to dwell on his face. 
A long moment passed.
      "The Cylons offered peace," Apollo began, "after over 1,000
yahrens of war.  The... quote...  'peace conference'... unquote... was
an ambush.  With the help of a traitor by the name of Baltar, they
destroyed all the military fleet except the Galactica and ravaged all
twelve of our home planets."
      "Twelve planets?"  Jenna asked.  "We only ever heard of Caprica. 
Weren't your people rather spread out on twelve planets?"
      "No," Apollo answered.  "We had settled in a unique star system of
twelve planets orbiting two suns."  He chuckled.  "I got to third grade
before I could draw the whole solar system correctly."
      He looked thoughtful once more and resumed.  "We gathered up all
the survivors we could locate and headed out to find... in our
language, Earth, or Terra... at any rate, we were looking for Terradia. 
We found your people about seven yahrens ago.
      "The Cylons chased us all the way here, but we arrived without
losing any of the two hundred and twenty civilian ships we left our
star system with.  The civilians settled down to live on Terradia and
the warriors went on with our job, protecting everyone. 
      "I'm still not quite adjusted to your government methods and the
social customs on Terradia, but I spend most of my time on the
Galactica, anyway.  Life there hasn't changed much."
      Jenna smiled, "There's not much difference between one battlestar
and another, I suppose.  So, how did you end up on this poor planet? 
Please tell me you're not stuck and you'll give me a ride home!"  Jenna
clasped her fingers together and made the motion of pleading with her
upraised hands nearing her chin, a look of mild desperation on her
face.
      Apollo shook his head slightly as he related, "I'm here on
assignment to find an advance scout who's disappeared.  When I've
discovered what happened to him, I'm to rendezvous with the next
passing battlestar and get a ride home from there.  That part sounds
easy, but it's where my troubles start.  
      "As I was landing, I had the opportunity to test the abilities of
several of your local military pilots.  They were very good at their
duties."  Ruefully he smiled at her.  Somehow she was not consoled.
      "How bad is the damage?"  Jenna wanted to know.  
      Apollo sighed.  "The electrical systems are shot, including all
communications equipment.  It'll never fly again without a complete
overhaul.  I have neither the tools nor the expertise for that.  When I
can figure some way to communicate with a passing battlestar, I need to
request their judgment in whether they want to send someone to repair
the viper or if they want me to destroy it.
      "Although it sustained severe damage, I was able to put down in a
rather obscure area and managed to elude the ground patrols."  She
smiled at his sigh.  
      "Well," she said far more positively than she felt, "we'll figure
something out when the time comes.  First we need to find this scout of
yours.  How long do we have before the next patrol sweep comes through? 
I've sort of lost track!"
      Apollo looked at her in surprise.  "We need to find him?" he
echoed, then added.  "What's with this we stuff?  It's my job and my
problem.  There's no need to involve you in it."
      Jenna smiled sweetly.  "Well, I'm a warrior, duty bound to help
others, right?  And you're my superior officer.  And I owe you my
life... twice.  Besides," she said, her eyes taking on a mischievous
sparkle, "I figure if I can help you, you can get home faster and I can
hitch a ride to the Octavia.  So when does the next ship come through?" 
Her eyes were trained on his and, although she continued to smile, he
knew she was holding her breath as she awaited his deciding answer.
      Apollo looked up at the sky as if he'd be able to see the massive
ship he knew to be coming, as he carefully weighed the situation in his
mind.  Finally he spoke.  "Next week.  Tuesday or Wednesday.  The
Charys.  One goes across here about every six months."  A sigh of
exultation and relief escaped Jenna, who only then realized she had
been holding her breath.  She made a gesture with her hand in
preparation for her next words when she was interrupted by a loud
noise.
      They raised their eyes from the fire to look at the opposite bank
of the river.  They heard shouts and some of their group, who had been
following the river, came into view.  Apollo and Jenna stood and
shouted back, waving their arms.
      Wading through the thigh-deep water, Glen was the first to join
them at their fire.  His face lined with concern, he asked, "Are you
both okay?"  
      Apollo and Jenna grinned at each other and Apollo, looking back at
Glen replied, "We're both fine.  What now?"
      Glen said, "We need to go back up-river.  Charles stayed with the
packs and horses so we could move more quickly."  Glancing around, he
saw the dead cougar and his tone of voice changed, reflecting his
surprise.  "Is that the cougar that was following us?"
      Apollo nodded, saying, "Apparently it was.  It won't bother us
again.  I'm afraid I had to kill it, though.  Is it a large example of
the animal?"
      Glen returned his attention to the two at the fire.  "Very large. 
Are you sure you're all right?  No injuries?"  
      Jenna answered, "Not from the cougar."  She gestured towards her
leg.  "My leg is really sore.  I must have hit something in the water."
      Glen knelt, examining the wound, which now looked like a very bad
scrape.  "It looks like you'll be okay.  Does it hurt much to walk on
it?"
      "Some," Jenna admitted.  "I don't think I could run too fast, but
I'll live."  Her rueful grin tried hard to allay his fears.  Glen
remained silent, looking hard into her face for a few moments, then
finally stood.  He walked over to Apollo and looked him over.  Seeing
the torn sleeve, he asked, "What about your arm?"
      Apollo said, "I have a scraped arm and a torn sleeve, but I'll be
fine."  He smiled wide.  "At least it's my right arm."  At Glen's
questioning gaze, Apollo explained, "I'm left-handed."
      Glen accepted his words as truth and said, "That's good."  Turning
to the others, he directed, "Let's get this fire out and get on our
way, shall we?  We want to get back to Charles before too long."
      Rory and Glen extinguished the fire, Mike preferring to spend his
time examining the dead and stiffening cat.  He stood and watched
Apollo with a serious face as the group headed towards the riverbank,
before he moved to join them.
      They waded back across the river and began walking up the
embankment toward the camp Charles had established.  
      Mike caught up to where Apollo was walking in the rear, as usual. 
He moved ahead a bit, then slowed down so as to separate Apollo from
the rest of the group.  Once more looking at Apollo with his face very
pensive, he commented, "I see you got yourself a kitty.  What'd you hit
him with, a club?"
      Apollo said quietly, "I shot him."  Then looked at Mike's
disbelieving face and grinned.
      Mike grunted with his skepticism.  "With a wet pistol," he said
sarcastically.  "Right!"
      Apollo's grin widened.  "Special equipment..."
      Mike cut in, a bit of frustration showing.  "I know... it's
experimental and you're not allowed to talk about it.  Are you with the
air force or something?"  His tone demanded more information, which
Apollo didn't dare relate.  Given the situation, he appreciated the
other's plight and yet couldn't help but see the humor in the
circumstances.
      Apollo laughed under his breath.  "Or something," he agreed and
began to walk faster.
      Mike, unsatisfied with the answers he had gotten thus far, grabbed
Apollo's right arm, stopping him.  Apollo's pained grimace made Mike
let go, but his voice was serious, questioning and challenging. 
"Apollo, he's dead and there's not a mark on him!  What on earth did
you use?"
      Apollo looked at Mike.  He thought of a remark he could make in
answer to the "on earth" portion of the other's statement, but didn't
dare push the advantage he held.  He faced Mike squarely, placing his
hand on Mike's shoulder and with a serious tone that told Mike not to
push too far, he replied, "Let's just call it space-age technology and
leave it at that, all right?"  
      The earnest look on his face forestalled further questions.  After
a quiet pause as the men looked at each other, Apollo turned and once
again began walking upstream, leaving Mike muttering something about
never getting a straight answer from anyone.  Nevertheless, he sensed
Apollo would give no further information to anyone.  He began walking
to catch up to the group, his frustration only lessened by a small
degree.

CHAPTER FIVE

      As they hiked up the bank of the river, they had to go slowly. 
Jenna's leg was very sore.  Although the tissue had been sealed
together again, the healing process was not yet complete in the deeper
layers.
      Apollo and Jenna were amazed at how far the river had carried them
during the short time they had been in the water.  They had come about
three miles downstream and because of their forced slowness, it took
them nearly two hours to return to the place where they'd crossed the
river this morning.
      Just before they were within sight of their camp, they heard two
rifle shots in the woods to their left.  Glen motioned to Mike and Rory
to check it out and the rest of them moved on into the clearing where
their belongings were.  The horses had been tethered to a pair of
trees, and Charles was absent.
      Glen began to fix lunch while Apollo and Jenna moved off into the
woods in separate directions to change into clean, dry, untorn
clothing.  They returned to the clearing at the same time, as did Mike,
Rory and Charles who were hauling the large buck Charles had just shot. 
Charles strung the deer from a nearby tree and cleaned it, burying the
entrails in a shallow hole.  As he finished, Glen called them to lunch.
      While they ate, they discussed their plans for the rest of the
trip.
      "This particular trip hasn't actually been going that well," Rory
said with a slight grimace.  "I still have a month on my hunting permit
to get my deer and the river might be lower later on.  I'm all for
going home now and coming back in a couple of weeks."
      Charles, his mouth stuffed full of sandwich, quickly swallowed
enough of it to get his words out.  "I got my deer.  I'm ready to go
whenever."
      Mike looked around at each of them before he spoke.  "Jenna's leg
hurts pretty bad, no matter what she says.  What with the weather and
all, I say let's go back down."  Several moments of silence hung on the
air following these comments.
      Glen spoke up then.  "Apollo, how about you?"
      "That swim shook me up a bit, as I'm sure it did Jenna.  I'm ready
to go back.  Anyway," he grinned, "I'm running out of dry clothes!"  A
general chorus of chuckles answered his remark.
      Glen, standing up, said, "Well then, let's get back across the
river while we have daylight and see if we can't get back to last
night's camp before dark."  Rory put out the fire while the others
readied the remaining equipment.
      The safety rope was still across the river and they used it once
more.  At Glen's insistence, Mike and Charles took the brown horse
across, tethered him and began to gather more firewood.  
      Glen and Rory pushed across the raft with the packs and the long
poles.  They quickly unloaded the raft and returned it to the other
side of the creek.  Jenna, kneeling in the raft in front of Charles'
deer, held onto the black horse, as did Glen who was walking beside it,
while Rory and Apollo provided power to the raft.  By the time they
were all across, Mike and Charles had a good-sized fire built.  Between
the fire and the steadily rising wind, they were soon dry.
      The raft was deflated and stowed, the packs were returned to the
horse's backs, and the fire carefully extinguished.  Glen untied the
rope and retrieved it from the river, replying to Apollo's query that
he'd pick up the spear when the river had gone down enough to cross
safely without a rope.  Two of the long poles and one short pole were
lashed together with the canvas webbing they'd brought to form a sort
of sled, to which Charles' deer was secured.  
      This sled was fastened behind the black horse and considering how
skittish this horse had been, Apollo was amazed at how calm it was now
with the sled attached.  Jenna was put on a blanket on the back of this
horse to guide it despite her protestations that she could walk. 
Apollo was interested to finally see the use of the poles and webbing. 
He filed away the information in case he needed it at some future time.
      Jenna's backpack was added to those already on the back of the
horse carrying provisions.  The men, now ready, shouldered their own
packs and the party started off toward their camp of the previous
night.

*        *        *        *        *

      The morning sky lightened later than usual because of a heavy
overcast of very dark clouds.  Apollo rose, stretching his abused
muscles.  His arm was still quite sore and he knew Jenna must be in
even more pain, her wound was larger and he wasn't the most skillful of
surgeons.
      Remembering her comment on being out of pain-relievers, he dug
into his own medikit and retrieved two small tablets.  Returning the
kit to his pack, he removed a small paper packet from his supplies and
dropped it in his shirt pocket.
      Leaving his shelter, the strength of the cold wind blowing down
off the mountain hit him full force, nearly knocking him to his knees. 
Leaning into the wind, he looked around to see Jenna, already up and
working on breakfast.  Fighting the wind, he made his way to her side.
      "How's the leg?" he asked, his concern apparent in his voice.  
      She gave him a small, brave smile, which, combined with the dark
circles under her eyes gave lie to her words.  "It's fine.  Working
great, now.  Thanks."  She made to turn back to her work, but he
reached out and took hold of her arm.  She looked up at him, wondering
what he wanted.
      Apollo placed the two tablets in her hand, saying, "Take these,
they'll help the pain and stiffness.  Did you get any sleep last
night?"
      She shook her head and quickly swallowed the tablets.  Apollo
guided her to a bench near the table.  
      "You sit here and let that work.  I can fix breakfast."  His smile
took the sting from his words.  Jenna looked up at him, then allowed
him this gallantry, sitting without protest, which let Apollo know more
clearly the extent of her discomfort.  He turned back to the fire and
his new cooking duties.
      The group met at the fire for an exceedingly tasty breakfast of
pancakes covered with small crushed berries and bacon and eggs.  Mike
commented on the extra zing the pancakes seemed to have and asked Jenna
what was different about them.  Jenna declined any knowledge and laid
the credit squarely at Apollo's door, her eyes twinkling in merriment
as she watched him squirm just a little.  
      Apollo, upon being questioned, simply mentioned the fact that
appetites increase in the mountains and everything seemed to taste
better as a matter of course.  Jenna smiled to herself and wondered
when Apollo had slipped in the kaermada spice peculiar to Terradian
cooking.  Their eyes met across the fire and sparkled in their shared
knowledge.
      No sooner had they finished breakfast, than the sky seemed to open
up and cover them with water.  It was a feeling more akin to having a
large bucket emptied over your head, than to being out in a rainstorm,
Apollo mused to himself.
      Everyone ran for Glen's tent, it being larger than the rest.  The
rainfall was so heavy that it took less than two minutes for the fire
to become completely soaked and die.  They decided to stay put until it
quit raining or tomorrow morning, whichever came first.
      The group amused themselves throughout the morning by talking on
various subjects and playing card games from a pack Glen had stashed in
his gear.  "For just such times as these", he had quipped when they
teased him about it.  The rain finally stopped around noon.
      By mutual consent, they decided to leave right away and try to get
home in the five hours or so left before darkness fell.  Quickly
packing their gear, they made another "sled" from the remaining poles
and stowed all their packs on it, so they could move more quickly and
make better time.
      The only difficult time they encountered was the stretch of jagged
rocks they had to maneuver the sleds over as they descended the steep
trails they had climbed so easily yesterday.  Apollo wondered why hills
always appeared steeper on a descent than the preceding ascending trek
and knew the question to be of the variety of unanswerable ones like
those all small boys ask and all adults hate to try and answer.  He
mentally shrugged his shoulders and continued hiking.
      The heavier weight of the deer, the extra sled with the packs and
Jenna's condition worked against them as far as their time was
concerned.  Apollo noted how quickly their daylight hours were slipping
past as they traversed the tricky pathway.  He hoped they could make it
far enough to be out of the pines and into less rough terrain before
their light was gone.
      It was nearly dark, however, as they reached the well-defined path
in the lower parts of the forest.  The leaves from the aspen trees cut
out a lot of the remaining light, though their highest branches glowed
red-gold as they caught the last of the sunlight.  Stopping only long
enough to pull flashlights from their packs, the group, now more than
mildly anxious to get home hurried on through the forest.
      Soon they came to the wide meadow they'd crossed early yesterday
morning.  The horses, sensing they were close to their stable,
quickened their pace, the tired men working hard to keep up with them.
      When they finally arrived, they gave the horses over to the care
of Glen's ranch hands, piled their gear on the back porch and went up
to their respective rooms.
      Apollo carried his pack upstairs and quickly changed to clean, dry
clothes.  Taking two more of the white tablets for Jenna, he headed
downstairs for some of the hot stew Hannah had mentioned when they'd
walked in.  After the meal he returned to his room, spread his wet camp
gear over a chair to dry and dug out his log.
      He recorded in it all the events of the past two days then turned
off the light and tumbled into bed, so tired that he fell asleep in his
clothes.

*        *        *        *        *

      Apollo woke early in the morning, quickly showered and dressed,
and put away his now-dry gear.  The hunting party was to break up
today, and he must find time to make some plans with Jenna.
      Heading downstairs, he hoped she would already be awake, but
considered it unlikely because of their late arrival the night before.
      He was quite pleased to see she was waiting for him in the living
room on the couch.  "Good morning, Apollo."  Her voice was light and
cheery.  "It's about time you came downstairs!"  He frowned at his
timepiece, then looked up, amazement tingeing his voice.
      "How long have you been waiting?"
      Jenna's musical giggle filled the room.  "Less than a minute!" 
Apollo's quick laugh answered hers, then she continued, a more serious
look on her face, yet leaving a smile to gently curve her lips.  "I
suppose you want a planning session?"
      At Apollo's nod, she stood and continued.  "We should be
undisturbed out on the porch, and there's a nice view, too."  Again
noting a sparkle in her eyes and the smile lighting her pixie-like
face, he smiled.
      Apollo watched as she walked across the room in front of him and
saw that although her limp was less noticeable; it was still there.  He
was glad she seemed to feel better this morning.
      He followed her out into the cool morning air, fresh from
yesterday's rain.  A light breeze was blowing, giving a slight chill to
the day.  Jenna shivered and pulled a jacket around her.  
      "How's your leg this morning?"  They sat down on the hanging swing
before she answered him.  Her hand involuntarily moved to the healing
wound; she rubbed it absently.  "Much better, thank you.  I slept well,
thanks to those tablets.  What are they?"
      Apollo shrugged.  "Standard stock aboard the Galactica.  I never
asked what was in them.  Does Glen know you're not from this world?" 
His eyes searched her face, looking for what, she wasn't sure.
      She watched him a moment, then grinned.  "Nope.  They haven't
guessed.  At least I don't think they have.  Their world doesn't
readily think of off-worlders when the pieces don't fit just right. 
Any lapses I've shown they attribute to head injuries from the
accident, explain things to me and we go on."  
      Jenna's face became serious, her eyes darkened at the memories
crowding in on her and she looked at the view in front of her, not
really seeing it.  "They were pretty appalled at the shape I was in
when they found me.  They didn't really expect me to live.  It took a
long time to heal.  I think that's why Glen's so protective of me." 
She took a deep breath and slowly expelled it, then looked back at
Apollo and saw him closely watching her.
      Apollo nodded as he digested the information.  Then he turned his
thoughts to other concerns.  "You've been here longer than I have.  Can
you think of any reason a scout, operating under radio silence for
seven yahrens, activates his distress beacon for a very short period of
time then totally disappears?  I've been combing his living quarters
for clues, and I'm out of leads again."
      "Again?"  Jenna's brows raised in a questioning look.  "What other
leads have come out empty?"
      "I found a map, but I've no idea what area it covers; it's very
roughly hand-drawn.  I also found a card with Glen's name and phone
code --"
      "Phone number," Jenna corrected absently.
      Apollo smiled.  "Thanks.  Phone number and a notation that read
'hunting - October 11'.  I called to see if I could come in his place,
thinking Glen might know something of his location, but I doubt he
does.  I've no idea why he had Glen's card.  This lead wasn't entirely
empty, though; I did meet you.  Do you have any ideas what could have
happened?"
      "Hmmmm," Jenna mused.  "It probably wasn't the local government. 
Seven yahrens is slower than their normal speed.  My guess is he
probably found the Cylons, or they found him, and they nabbed him.  If
he activated his beacon from their base, they'd have destroyed it,
which would explain the length of his transmission."
      "Nabbed?"  Apollo queried. 
      Jenna laughed.  "Sorry, local term.  I've been here too long.  How
about 'captured'?"
      Apollo grimaced at the word.  "I was afraid of that, but I'd hoped
it wasn't the case.  We couldn't pinpoint his location exactly, but it
is on this half of this continent."  He paused, thinking.  "Jenna,
could you find that base again?"  His blue eyes were intent on hers.
      Jenna shook her head.  "I was really out of things at that point
in time.  I bet Glen could take us to where he found me, though, and it
can't be too far from there as I wasn't in any shape for a
cross-country hike.  It'll be easy enough to find if you've got an
energy scanner."  She looked at him hopefully.
      Apollo nodded and smiled at her obvious relief.  "There's one in
Rantek's living quarters.  I'm staying there while I look for him."
      "Rantek!"  Jenna exclaimed, her brown eyes growing wide.  "Rantek
-- from Varin?"
      Apollo shook his head briefly.  "I don't know where he's from.  My
briefing only covered his mission here."
      Jenna's question came quickly, her words clipped.  "Is there a
likeness in the apartment of a small girl holding a large stuffed bear? 
Bright red?"
      Apollo considered, then nodded.  "Yes, I believe so.  Do you know
him, or where he is now?"
      Jenna's eyes seemed to grow larger and she shook her head lightly
in the negative.  "I know him, but I had no idea he was here.  We were
good friends at the academy.  The picture is of his daughter; he never
goes anywhere without it."  The tone of her voice grew serious. 
"Apollo, it's got to be the Cylons.  Nothing else would induce him to
yell for help.  He's not someone who panics easily.  Also, "she paused
significantly," he wouldn't go anywhere for long without that likeness
of Sabrielle.  She didn't make it through the destruction of his
starbase.  It's all he has of her."  They sat in silence for some time
before any other words were spoken.
      "Well," Apollo eventually said, "at least we know where to begin
looking.  Now if we can just get back to where Glen found you, we'll
know if we're right."
      "Right about what?"  Glen's voice was stern, his face wore a
disapproving look as he stepped around the corner of the house. 
Neither Apollo or Jenna answered him immediately, surprise on their
faces.  His voice was uncompromising as he faced them.  "Apollo,
everyone who comes here knows my niece is off-limits.  That's a rule
she asked me to set.  You have been hounding her since you arrived and
now you want to probe into her past.  Leave her alone."  His stance
alone spoke silently of immovable force and Apollo knew something must
be said to him to set him at ease, but was unsure of where and how to
begin.
      He must protect their identities if at all possible.  He wished he
knew how much of their conversation Glen had heard.  Looking squarely
at Glen, he finally spoke.
      "Jenna looks very much like a friend I grew up with.  She
disappeared about five years ago while flying.  We thought if we could
go back to where you found Jenna, we might be able to find some
wreckage and find out for sure if she's the girl I knew.  My friend
Xavier misses his niece very much."
      Glen carefully looked first at Apollo, then at Jenna.  He turned
back toward Apollo, the few sentences placing the actions of the past
few days into an entirely different perspective.
      A rising excitement showing in his voice, Glen turned toward Jenna
with an eagerness yet much concern and gently questioned, "D'you think
he may be right?  Does the name Xavier mean anything to you?  Ring any
bells?"  He waited for her answers, watching her face.
      Jenna shrugged.  "It sounds vaguely familiar, somehow, but I'm not
sure.  If we find my... the plane," she corrected, "maybe it would help
trigger some memory.  Maybe then I could at least go meet this Xavier
Apollo says is my uncle and find out for sure.  The way I see it," she
said carefully, "I've got nothing to lose and maybe everything to
gain."
      She looked at Glen appealingly, her eyes anxious, wanting him to
understand she needed his help in finding the place where he had picked
her up.
      Glen, searching her face, read her appeal and nodded.  "You can
always come back here if we're wrong.  You know Hannah and I love you
like our own.  You'll always have a home here."  His big hand lightly
rested for a moment on her shoulder and Jenna covered it momentarily
with her much smaller hand before they ended the contact.
      Turning to Apollo, he said, "I believe I owe you an apology.  I
shouldn't have jumped to conclusions.  I'd be happy to take you out to
where I found Jenna, but it's quite a ways away and I'm afraid I'm not
free until Tuesday morning.  Will that work for you?"
      Apollo, eager to be moving on his mission now that he had another
lead, curbed his impatience and replied, "Tuesday will be fine."  The
smile he gave Glen was a bit rueful.
      Plans were quickly laid as to the place and time to meet and they
quietly joined the others in the dining room, each busy with personal
thoughts.
      After a delicious breakfast provided by Hannah, the party broke
up, the hunters returning to their homes in the city.  For the most
part, they seemed glad to be getting back to their everyday routines,
but Apollo knew for him it would feel like time was stretched out. 
Tuesday seemed a long way off.

CHAPTER SIX

      Tuesday morning dawned bright and clear and Apollo rose early,
eager to be on his way.  He'd spent the weekend checking and
re-checking the equipment he planned to take with him.
      When he had first entered Rantek's living quarters he had found
everything in total chaos.  When Apollo had finished sifting through
and putting things back into a semblance of order, he'd found a hidden
wall panel, which had provided him with a spare laser as well as other
valuable equipment.  He'd brought the laser to full charge, as well as
making sure his own was fully charged.
      He packed his gear, carefully placing the fairly delicate energy
scanner in the center of it.  He hoped he could pass it off as a metal
detector since they were supposedly looking for the remains of Jenna's
aircraft.  
      Apollo disliked having to deliberately mislead anyone but he had
little choice in the matter being under orders to avoid publishing his
off-world origins.  He left the living quarters and took the local
public transport to the executive terminal at the nearby international
airport where he was to meet Glen and Jenna at nine.
      A few minutes after nine, Glen came into the building.  Apollo
picked up his pack and walked over to where Glen was arranging for some
fuel.  Finished, they walked together out towards a small private
plane, which Apollo saw was larger than several of the others parked
nearby it, having two engines.  Painted a light reddish brown with thin
black lines running down each side, the plane would be easily
overlooked in some of the desert areas he had seen during his approach
to the planet.  He wondered if it was going to be a helpful color where
they were headed just now.
      Looking at the size close up, it was not as large as several he'd
seen taking off this morning as he'd awaited Glen's arrival, but it
seemed adequate.  After all, he didn't want to advertise their presence
to anyone close to the Cylon base, especially not to the inhabitants.  
 
      When they reached the plane, he noticed a door was open in the
side, becoming stairs.  Glen opened another, smaller door further back,
saying, "We'll stow your gear in here, Apollo."
      Handing his pack to Glen, he watched to make sure it was fastened
securely to the cargo net.  A truck with a large flattened cylinder on
the back drove up to them.  The driver got out and clipped a thin wire
cable to the plane, then started to put fuel into its wing tanks. 
Apollo walked around to where Glen was inspecting different parts of
the plane.  
      Being a pilot himself, he was naturally curious about anything
that flew and wanted to learn all he could about local atmospheric
craft.  If he were really stranded here he'd have to learn how to fly,
just to keep his sanity!  The thought produced only grim humor at best.
      Reaching Glen, Apollo asked, "What's that cable for?"  He pointed
to the one attached by the fuel driver.
      Glen glanced up from the tire.  "Grounding wire... it keeps sparks
from forming and igniting the fuel fumes."
      Apollo nodded his understanding.  The fuel truck driver finished
filling the plane and disconnected the cable.  Glen paid him for the
fuel and the man drove away.
      Glen finished his inspection of the exterior parts of the
aircraft, then motioned Apollo into it.  
      Where they entered, there were four seats facing each other and it
looked like a segment of the inner wall could be lifted out, making a
table between them.  There were two more seats in the front of the
craft and Apollo gave a cheery "Good Morning" to Jenna, who sat in the
right side of the front seats.  She nodded an acknowledgment, but
remained silent, her face pale and drawn.  Glen and Apollo exchanged
looks.
      Glen said softly, "She's been real quiet like that all weekend." 
      "She's probably just nervous about looking for her past.  I know I
would be."  Apollo's voice, too, was so low as to be nearly inaudible.
      He knew it was more than just the thought of "finding her past"
that had Jenna worried.  Tall silver Cylons were very intimidating at
any time.  But if you had once been their prisoner and escaped the
consequences would be a hundred-fold more painful if they caught you
again.  
      Apollo was somewhat nervous himself.  After all, two or possibly
three if they found and freed Rantek, against hundreds were not very
encouraging odds.
      Apollo hated having to ask Jenna to face them again, but if Rantek
were their prisoner, he had no choice.  He had to use whatever means
available to rescue the scout and somehow get all of them out of this
mess alive and back home.  'And,' Apollo mused to himself, 'that is
going to be some trick!'
      Perhaps Rantek had a communications device hidden somewhere,
though he hadn't found one in the apartment, not even the emergency
beacon he'd used which had summoned Apollo here to begin with.
      Walking back to the tail section, Glen interrupted Apollo's
thoughts as he noted a written checklist and secured some built-in
cabinet doors and drawers.  The checklist completed, Glen quickly
briefed Apollo on the operation of the seat belt and invited him to
come up to the front of the plane once they reached their altitude.  He
moved forward once more and settled into the left front seat.
      He looked happy and relaxed, which seemed to be his normal state
of mind.  He appeared excited to think that Apollo might be able to get
Jenna back home to her relatives.  Apparently it hadn't occurred to him
that she might be going so far away he'd never see her again. 

*        *        *        *        *

      When they finally landed at another airport several hours later,
this one in a much smaller town, Apollo was glad to get out and move
around.  Even though the plane was quite roomy, he had felt cooped up
inside it because of his eagerness to complete his mission, the Cylon
threat notwithstanding.
      "Will we be flying much further?" he asked Glen.  
      "No, we're here, but we've quite a ways to go by jeep."  He handed
Apollo the key to the aft compartment.  
      Apollo and Jenna removed the gear from the baggage compartment
while Glen arranged to leave the plane at the airport for a few days
and picked up the jeep that was waiting for them.  Stowing the gear in
the jeep, they climbed in and Glen drove them through the airport's few
roads.
      Upon leaving the airport, they drove through the small adjacent
town and out into the desert.  Apollo compared the differences between
this area and the area where they'd been camping the week before.  Here
there was fairly flat land in all directions; the only vegetation a
hardy, dusty-green bush and an occasional spiny plant that looked
decidedly menacing with its covering of barbs.  Had Glen's plane needed
to land here, it would indeed have blended with its surroundings.
      There wasn't much cover and Apollo hoped he wouldn't be running
from the Cylons in this inhospitable environment.  The dry, packed
earth wouldn't be a hindrance to the Cylons at all and they weren't
dependent on carried water the way he was.
      After a time, the sameness of the landscape became monotonous and
Apollo napped, having learned long ago to get sleep where and when he
could, especially when expecting Cylons -- they tended to show up at
the most inopportune moments. 
      Apollo woke briefly when Glen turned off the main paved road and
proceeded to drive out across the apparently trackless desert.  He
noticed Jenna was asleep in her seat and was pleased.  At least she had
been able to relax a little and he would need her at her best.  He
tried to doze once more.
      Sometime in mid-afternoon, Glen stopped the jeep.  The sudden
absence of noise and movement woke both Apollo and Jenna.
      "Wake up, sleepyheads," Glen cheerfully called as he climbed out
of the jeep, now covered with brown dust.  "Time to set up camp!"
      Suiting action to word, he began to unload the gear from the back
of the jeep.  Jenna scrambled out of the jeep and stood, swaying
slightly as she tried to get her bearings.
      Apollo crawled out of the tiny back seat, glad for a chance to
stretch his legs and looked around.  Glen had chosen a small oasis area
for their camp.  There were a few spiky trees that looked like they'd
been tortured in the heat, and a small spring that bubbled away into
nothing less than thirty feet from its source.  Here again were the
dusty-green colored shrubs and several varieties of the spiny barbed
plants scattered here and there.  
      As Apollo pulled his pack from the rear of the jeep, Glen called
over from where he was laying out a tent and pointed to the spiky
trees.  "Apollo, those Joshua trees should support your hammock set-up. 
Cut some wood stakes for your tarp; they'll hold better in the sand,
but make sure you pick trees that aren't major bug highways!"  Glen's
wide grin was somehow comforting to him.
      "Thanks," Apollo called back with an answering smile and made a
close inspection of several of the Joshua trees Glen had indicated
before he found two which suited his purpose.  On closer inspection the
trees didn't have true spikes, they just gave the impression of it, for
which he was glad.  
      As he quickly strung his hammock and tarp, Apollo thought about
all the new words regarding the flora and fauna on this planet he was
adding to his vocabulary.  This was one of the things he had always
enjoyed while traveling through different star systems.  It had
interested him, too, when he compared different plants and animals to
those of his home planet and compared the different names for those
things which were similar.  Some names were surprisingly parallel,
others were totally foreign.
      Finished with hanging the tarp, Apollo removed the scanner from
his pack and checked to make sure it hadn't been damaged on the trip
here as the last leg had been a bit rough over the uncharted desert. 
Satisfied that he could detect no damage to the scanner, he laid the
smaller sleeping tarp across it and his pack and stepped out to find
the others just finishing with the settings for their own tents.
      Glen left the area to get firewood, admonishing the two not to
stray out of camp and to see about rustling up some dinner.  Apollo
watched him out of sight, then went straight back to his pack under the
sleeping tarp to retrieve the two lasers.  He slowly walked into the
main area of the camp as he finished buckling on his own laser and with
a wide smile he presented the other to Jenna with a flourish.  
      "Could you use one of these?" he asked, his smile widening in his
anticipation of her reactions.
      "Apollo!"  Jenna squealed with delight, nearly dancing with her
excitement.  "Where did you get this?"  Her eyes sparkled with
pleasure, and she wasted no time in pulling the strap around, adjusting
the belt to fit her tiny waist and strapped it on, obviously savoring
every familiar movement.  She removed the laser from the holster and
checked both its balance and the charge available before returning it
and snapping the safety strap in place.
      "Oh," he smiled even wider in an off-hand manner as he drawled,
"it was hanging around Rantek's place.  I figured he wouldn't mind if
you borrowed it.  Besides," his voice deepened and became more serious,
the smile a bit less infectious now as he continued, his eyes watching
her face carefully, "it'll be nice to have a second laser as a back-up
when we find the base." 
      Jenna shivered despite the heat.  "I really don't want to go back
in there," she said in a small voice.  "But if I don't help you..." the
hesitation was brief, then the attempt to lighten the atmosphere
between them caused her eyes to lighten and sparkle just a bit as she
continued, "...you'll go by yourself and get captured.  You don't know
the location of the cells or where to get away again.  I would have to
go in anyway by myself just to rescue you!"  A small, brave smile
briefly touched her lips.
      Apollo spoke softly, his eyes still serious.  "I dislike asking
you to go, but you're right that I need your help."  
      Jenna nodded.  "Rantek needs it more."
      "Are you going to be all right?"  Apollo's concern was evident in
his voice.
      Taking a deep breath, Jenna nodded.  "I think so.  Having the
laser helps bunches; isn't that silly?"  She seemed more her normal
self and much less tense.
      "Not at all," Apollo returned.  "Why should it be silly to be
reassured by having a weapon you're accustomed to at your side? 
Especially when you know it's effective against the particular threat
you're up against?"
      "You have a point, Captain," she said and, turning away she
gathered the items she would need to fix their dinner.
      Apollo watched as she busied herself around the camp.  Briefly he
wondered which of the dreams he'd had last week would come to life. 
Would she fight at his side or turn him in to the Cylons?  Only time
would tell, but for now he had to trust her.  She was the only lead he
had to find Rantek.
      Glen returned with enough wood to start the fire, then built and
lit it.  He asked Apollo to accompany him on his immediate departure
for more wood and Apollo went gladly.  When they returned, their arms
were full of fallen Joshua branches.  They also had some dried pieces
of the dust-green plant, which Glen had informed him was sagebrush and
several pieces of dead cactus, minus the spines, Jenna had a simple
meal prepared and they ate.  
      Glen was tired after the flight and long drive and Jenna, somewhat
preoccupied, was not disposed toward light conversation, so it was not
long after dinner they extinguished the fire and went to their separate
beds in the gathering dusk.

*        *        *        *        *

      "Apollo, wake up!"  Jenna's voice was urgent, though her words
were whispered. 
      "What is it?"  Apollo came fully awake and swung out of the
hammock in one fluid motion.  He noticed it was still very dark.
      "I remembered something; the Cylons sometimes run a patrol sweep
about two in the morning.  At least they did when I was there.  That's
when I escaped.  I slipped out when the hangar doors were open.  If we
set up the scanner, maybe we can get a fix on them as they begin their
patrol."
      "And they can get one on us."  His voice was hard.
      "Not if we get the fix and shut down quickly," Jenna replied. 
"They won't be scanned long enough to realize anything about it. 
Besides, they won't be looking for someone to be scanning them here and
at this time of the night."  Her voice held a note of pleading, but
what she said made sense.
      Apollo sighed.  "We'd better be quick, then.  Any idea how close
we are to the base or what direction they are from us and what time it
is?" 
      Jenna shook her head, then realized Apollo couldn't see her in the
dark.
      "Desert looks like desert to me," she whispered, "but this is
where Glen picked me up, so we can't be too awfully far.  It's about
1:30 local; we've got about half an hour to set up the scanner."
      Apollo reached into his pack and removed a small glowstick and
activated it.  The dim yellowish light was enough for him to see what
he was doing, while not producing enough light to wake Glen.  They went
outside of the camp about 50 feet or so.
      Activating the scanner, he instructed its small computer to align
its directional sense with magnetic north.  This done, he settled down
to wait for something to appear on the screen.  
      "You may as well go back and go to sleep, Jenna.  You'll need all
you can get."  Jenna silently left him and headed for her tent, hating
to leave him, but knowing he was right.
      It seemed like centons passed as he waited.  Then in the distance,
Apollo heard the rumble of thunder and looked at his chronometer to
determine the time.  Then he remembered that when they'd gone to bed
there had not been a cloud in the sky.  Knowing thunderstorms usually
didn't develop at night, he realized he was actually hearing the
massive hangar doors opening and, listening intently for sounds of the
Cylon patrol craft, Apollo hunched over his scanner and tried to coax
more range out of it.
      Within microns he had the first raiders on the screen.  He got a
position fix on them and quickly shut off the scanner, going back to
his tent.  Digging into his pack again, he removed his datapad.  Using
the time he'd heard the doors open as a reference, he computed an
approximate location for the Cylon base.
      Satisfied with his work for the night he put away his equipment,
climbed back into his hammock and returned to sleep.

*        *        *        *        *

      Apollo woke again just before dawn first lightened the sky. 
Moving quietly, he dressed in his uniform and attached his medikit to
his belt along with a small spade-like tool.  He removed a compass and
a small scanner from his pack, hooked the scanner to his belt and
strapped the compass into place on his sleeve.
      Stepping out into the camp's central area, he was surprised to see
Jenna already up, standing near the spring checking her laser.  Making
sure his own was still at full charge, he joined her.  
      "I didn't expect to see you already up."  Apollo's voice was
nearly a whisper.
      Jenna glanced at Glen's tent, then back to Apollo.  She handed a
full canteen to him.  Slinging a second one over her own shoulder, she
whispered back.  "Did you get a fix?"  At Apollo's nod, she continued,
"Then let's go.  Glen always gets up early and if we don't want him
with us, we'd better leave now."  Apollo nodded once more, heading for
the spot where he'd set up the scanner during the night.
      Apollo consulted his compass and gestured into the desert.  His
voice still low, he said, "500 maxims.  Count our distance, will you?" 
Jenna nodded.  They both took a long drink from the spring and left the
camp area, munching on a small snack Jenna had prepared after dinner
from the remains of last night's food.   
      Walking single file, they kept a fairly quick pace.  Apollo
consulted the compass often to insure they kept to the proper course.
      The land became more hilly, the sand having been wind-swept into
large dunes, which had not been discernible as they had driven along
the road.  The hills and shallow valleys would afford them some cover
should they need it, Apollo reflected, but they had a harder time
moving because the fine-grained sand kept breaking away from under
their feet, causing them to slide quite a bit.  They occasionally lost
their balance and went sliding all the way to the bottom of a dune.
      There was no vegetation now and the trail they were leaving in the
sand would be easy for anyone to follow, which caused some uneasy
thoughts for Apollo.
      At the halfway mark, they rested briefly, drinking from their
canteens.
      "Apollo, I've been thinking; the Charys should be overhead
sometime today, right?"
      Apollo nodded.  "It may as well be a light year away, with no ship
and no radio."  The regret in his voice was unmistakable.
      Jenna, speaking somewhat softly, continued as if she were only
thinking aloud.  "A Cylon Raider has three seats.  If you only knew how
to fly one, I take directions very well..." She let the thought trail
off with a sigh.  Standing up, she asked, dismissing the subject upon
which she had just been speaking, "Ready to go?"
      Apollo stood, absorbing the import of Jenna's words.  His eyes
glowed with warmth, his words came quickly.  "Jenna, I've flown a Cylon
ship although it's been a few yahrens.  We're going home today if we
can get Rantek out!  And IF"... the pause was ominous...  " we can get
close enough to a Raider to, ah, 'borrow' it!"  His grin was infectious
and Jenna found herself sharing his now-buoyant spirits.
      They set off again, at a faster pace.  They must get to the base
quickly; there was much to do.  If Rantek were there, the rescue must
be completed and their take-off accomplished by early afternoon, or
they risked missing the Charys... and their ride home.
      Presently Jenna announced they were as close to the set distance
as she could figure, what with all the sliding around they'd done. 
They drank again from their canteens.  Then Apollo detached the small
scanner from his side and began to look for an opening to the base.
      Shutting off the device, he announced, "Scanner says there's a
personnel door just over there.  Let's see if we can dig it out."
      Jenna followed Apollo to the side of a dune and they began to dig,
Apollo using the spade and Jenna moving the sand he loosened with her
hands.
      The spade hit something solid and they soon uncovered the top part
of a doorway.
      "Plascrete around steel," Apollo observed.  "They must not be
expecting any trouble from this direction."
      Jenna nodded her agreement and after drinking deeply from their
canteens, they returned to the work of uncovering the door quietly and
carefully.  They were so absorbed in their labors they failed to notice
a figure watching from a nearby dune.
      After an hour's hard work, the large door was finally uncovered
and they stepped back to survey their work.  The opening was about ten
feet square, covered with two giant steel plates, now pitted by the
sand.  The large blue h