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 handle to one side was the only thing protruding from the smooth plascrete wall that disappeared into the dune on both sides of the door. Drinking from their canteens again, they drained the last of the water. They set the empty containers at the side of the door while Apollo dug a shallow hole in the nearby sand in which to bury the canteens to delay detection. Jenna pointed at the large blue handle. "Open?" she inquired. Apollo shook his head and pulled out his scanner. Jenna waited tensely to find out what was on the other side of the doors. "I'm reading no movement and plenty of air. Now, shall we go in?" He grinned at her anxious face, trying to give her reassurance and a confidence he wasn't sure he felt himself. Jenna drew her laser and a deep breath. "I'm ready." Apollo replaced the scanner on his belt and drew his own weapon. They positioned themselves at either side of the door. Jenna's hand hovered over the opening mechanism and she looked at Apollo for the go-ahead. He nodded. Jenna reached for the handle when a voice behind them sharply commanded, "Hold it right there!" Both warriors turned, aiming their lasers at the sound, then relaxed only slightly but pointed their weapons skyward as Glen came skidding down the last sand dune amid a thick cloud of dust. CHAPTER SEVEN Apollo and Jenna glanced at each other with looks of frustration. They both re-holstered their weapons and waited for Glen to make his way over to them. "Would somebody please tell me what's going on here?" Glen was speaking in a very demanding manner before he had quite caught up to them. "And I want the truth, please. You can't tell me you're going looking for your friend's plane when you're busting into the side of a sand dune with guns drawn!" Apollo shook his head and began climbing back up the sand dune, motioning for Jenna to follow. Glen let out another bellow. "NOW where are you two going?" "I'll explain," Apollo said over his shoulder, "but not on the Cylons' doorstep." He continued climbing the dune, Jenna at his heels. Glen had no choice but to follow them... that is, if he wanted any answers at all... and he did. Glen followed them up the dune and the three of them slid down the other side. "What's a Cylon?" A breathless query reached their ears as they came to a stop at the bottom of the dune. Apollo's gaze would have pinned Glen to a wall had there been one handy. "Be glad you don't know," he said sincerely, "and I hope you never find out. Now, go back to camp and wait for us there." Glen shook his head stubbornly. "I'm not moving until I know what's going on here... unless it's to follow you two," he quickly added, noticing the glance Apollo slid to Jenna. "Glen..." Apollo's voice was hard. Jenna, looking at the expressions on both men's faces, entered the debate quickly, knowing the time limit they were facing. "Apollo, you'd better tell him. He's as stubborn as a gureet and you'll only waste time until you do." When Apollo hesitated, she gently added, "And we'll miss our ride." Apollo sighed. She was right. He looked critically at Glen, saw the determination in his eyes, the strength in his stance. Glen opened his mouth to speak, but Apollo forestalled him with a raised hand and motioned for them to be seated. "Before I answer your questions, you need to understand that neither Jenna or I are native to this planet. Jenna's from a planet called Terradia, which is halfway to the other side of the galaxy. I'm from a place called Caprica, which was in another galaxy altogether, until it was destroyed. The Cylons were lizard-like beings. They built drones called Centurions, which are protected by silver battle armor. Their primary goal is to destroy every last human being. "I was sent here to find a missing scout named Rantek. Instead, I found Jenna. When I leave here, I will be taking her home to her Uncle Xavier. He commands a military space ship, called a battlestar." Apollo watched Glen closely, assessing the information being given and how it was being received. Apparently satisfied, he continued, making a gesture over his shoulder. "That door leads into a Cylon military base that shouldn't even be on this planet. We think Rantek may be locked up in there, so we're going in after him. "Quite soon a battlestar will be within flying range of Earth, so as soon as we get Rantek, we're going to steal a Cylon ship and be on our way home. I know all this sounds fantastic, but it's true. Believe me." His eyes continued to appraise Glen closely. "Thank you for taking care of Jenna, and thank you for bringing us this far. Now, if you'll just go back home, we'll complete our business and go on home ourselves." His voice brooked no argument. And, although Glen's eyes had widened slightly during this discourse, he had evinced no other reaction. He now rose to his feet in quiet protest. "Nothing doing. I'm going in with you. If you miss your ride and come out some other door, you'll need someone who knows this desert to get you back out of it. What's the use of escaping these... Cylons... if you get lost in the desert and die of thirst? I know your water is gone, Apollo. I watched you bury your empty canteens." His own voice was as hard and determined as Apollo's had been, his chin thrust forward aggressively. Apollo and Jenna stood. Apollo's voice was firm as he faced the older man before him. Glen did not understand the extent of the threat facing not only him, but the human race as well. "No. Go back to camp. I can't expose you to the Cylons. We're not walking out, anyway, we're leaving by air." Glen's chin rose a little and his voice became almost deadly in his purpose. "This is my planet and I have the right to help protect it. I'm going in there with you. I have my rifle and know how to use it. Let me help. Besides, who's afraid of a lizard?" His voice was now incredulous. Jenna grinned. "We're not talking gila monsters here, Uncle Glen. I'm afraid of a seven-foot lizard with a laser rifle and a deep hatred for any and every human. And your rifle might... MIGHT, I said... dent his knee cap." Apollo's grim expression added weight to Jenna's statements as he concurred. "Seven... foot... lizard?!?!" Glen's eyes popped and his mouth hung open, disbelief coating his voice as he tried to gather his wits. "You've gotta be kidding me! Ones that tote rifles?" He turned back to Apollo. "Why were you worried about a measly two hundred pound cat?" Apollo smiled, "Cylons I know. The only cats I've seen frequent alleys and never reach as high as a man's knee." Glen nodded, then turned to Jenna. "Even so, I'm going in with you. I've been taking care of you for five years and I don't intend to stop now." Apollo continued to object. "Glen, believe me. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but this is serious. You're a civilian and I can't take you in there. You're not trained and you're improperly armed. You'd be a liability to me. Not to mention how I'd get you home again. Go back to camp where you can stay out of trouble... and danger." "Just a minute, Apollo -- " Jenna stepped between the two men, interrupting their argument. "Would you both quit wasting time? Glen, if you go in there, chances are very good that you'll die there. Do you still insist on going?" "Absolutely!" Adamant, there was no hesitation in his response. Jenna sighed, "I was afraid of that." She turned to face Apollo. "He's right. It is his planet and he has the right to die protecting it. He knows the risk he's facing, so far as he can without having seen a Cylon, anyway. Now, let's go before we lose too much time." She started back up the dune, calling over her shoulder, "I'm going in. Who's coming with me?" Both men hastened to scramble up the dune in her wake. CHAPTER EIGHT As they reached the door, Apollo pointed the scanner at it once again. "Still no movement," he reported. He hung the scanner on his belt and they took up their positions on opposing sides of the door, Glen beside Jenna. At Apollo's nod, she pulled the handle down. Glen held his breath. The massive doors slid aside quietly and the three figures crept into the Cylon base. Apollo pulled the handle on the inside and the doors slid closed, leaving them in blackness. "Apparently they rarely wander out this way," Jenna murmured. She slipped a glowstick out of the medikit she carried and activated its greenish light. "I've only got three of these," she added, "so let's go easy on them." Apollo wondered where the glowstick had come from. There hadn't been any in the kit when he'd used it last week and the shelf life was nowhere near the five years Jenna had been here. He made a mental note to ask her later.They re-holstered their weapons, though Glen noted in the eerie light that they did not fasten the strap that would lock the pistols in. In fact, Jenna folded hers backwards and tucked it between the holster and her leg. Glen devoutly hoped they were faster at drawing their weapons than the Cylons were. Pausing a few minutes for their eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness, Apollo signaled for Jenna to lead the way. A few feet down the hall, there was a depression in the wall to their right. Jenna motioned for them to stay put and disappeared with the light. Glen asked in a low voice, "Who's in charge, you or her?" Apollo grinned in the darkness, even though he knew Glen couldn't see him. "It's my mission and I outrank her, so I'm in charge, but she's been to the base before, so I appointed her as guide." "She's been here before?" There was surprise in Glen's voice. "Then why did you need me to bring you out here?" "She had just barely escaped the Cylons when you found her. She wasn't sure how to get back here, so we enlisted your help." "Is that who beat her up?" Glen's voice was angry. At Apollo's assent, he bit out the words; "I'll kill 'em for that!" "You'd better," Apollo observed dryly, "or they'll kill you." Just then, Jenna returned with the glowstick. "Guard room. Here's a rifle for you, Glen. Just point and shoot, see, here's the trigger. I got one for Rantek, too." She handed the second rifle to Apollo, who slid it over his shoulder. Jenna held the light close so he could adjust the carrying strap, then moved off down the corridor. Apollo motioned for Glen to guard the rear. Glen wanted to feel needed and Apollo felt that this was a fairly safe assignment, since he knew that for a few minutes, at least, there was little possibility of Cylons popping up behind them. They traveled on through what seemed to be endless dark corridors. The dust was thick on the floor, but their soft, careful steps did not stir it up enough to make breathing difficult. Their eyes became accustomed to the gloom and they were able to see a bit, aided by the glowstick. Once they thought they heard a noise behind them, but there was nothing there. Apollo's mind flicked back to when he and Starbuck had gone exploring the lower levels of the Tylium mine on Carrilon. At least here, they were expecting Cylons and if all else failed, they could follow their footprints back out the way they came. The glowstick grew too dim to use, so Jenna discarded it and lit another. They rounded a corner into another corridor, then Jenna quickly pushed them back. Her voice, though barely audible, still carried the surprise and nervousness she felt. "Footprints in the dust. The tread looks like boots of some sort. A single human with very small feet and fresh enough that no new dust has settled in them." She looked at Apollo for advice. "Is he going where we're headed?" Jenna shook her head. "No, which probably means we're headed in the right direction. What do you want to do?" Apollo considered the tracks for a moment. "Follow the tracks. It may be a recent escapee, or even Rantek. Do you see how every few steps there are two that are a bit sideways, as though someone were looking behind him? These aren't Cylon tracks. Whoever it is, he is in as much danger as we are. If we can find him, we can join forces." Jenna nodded her head and turned once again to take the lead. Jenna rounded the corner and began following the footprints, saying, "I doubt it's Rantek; these prints are almost my size and he's not small." Within minutes, the trail led them to a closed door. Taking up side positions, Apollo activated the door and it slid open. A laser bolt came from within the room at chest level. Apollo called out, "Don't shoot, we're human!" A female voice came from inside, full of wonderment. "Warriors?" "Yes," Jenna replied and stepped into the doorway, her weapon at the ready, Apollo close behind her. Seeing nothing at first, she stepped further into the room and finally located someone crouching behind a packing case. Drawing closer, she recognized the other girl. "Lissanne! What are you doing here?" The girl looked up sharply at her name, then shock and excitement registered on her face as she recognized Jenna. She set the heavy Cylon rifle down and scrambled to her feet. "Jenna! We all thought you were dead!" Jenna quickly made introductions, explaining that they had previously served on the Octavia together. Lissanne told them she'd crashed due to a mechanical maladjustment in her instruments and been captured before she could repair the massive communications breakdown on her flight panel and summon a shuttle to pick her up. "How long have you been here?" Apollo wanted to know. "I'm not sure. Maybe a day or so." "But the Charys doesn't know where you are?" Jenna's voice sounded her concern and disappointment as Lissanne shook her head negatively. "If you were captured, why aren't you in a cell?" Glen was suspicious, the tone of his voice readily conveying his doubt. "They took me to my cell after my initial 'screening' and forgot to lock the door behind me. The actual corridor isn't guarded, just the entrance to the cell block. I was on my way out when I heard your footsteps and ducked in here." "How could they 'forget' to lock the cell?" Glen was still doubtful of who this girl was. "Could you take us back to the cell block?" Apollo asked, ignoring Glen's question. Lissanne nodded. "Yes, but why do you want to go there?" Jenna answered, "We're looking for Rantek. Is he here?" "Rantek? He's here, but he's not in the cell block. Just as they brought me in, he was summoned to the control room. He was the one making the fuss when I was being 'locked' in." "Control room!" Apollo and Jenna echoed simultaneously, concern in their voices, then Apollo continued, "Why there?" "Don't know," Lissanne said, "but that's why they didn't lock my door. I was being a good kid for once and Rantek was putting up quite a fight. They left the identicard in the lock, so I waited until they were gone and just opened the door and left. I figured on sending back help. What do you want to do?" "Lissanne, how were you brought into the base? Through the hangar?" Jenna's eyes were bright with the thought of the Cylon ships that would be parked there. Lissanne looked slightly puzzled as she thought. "I'm not sure," she gave a small grin. "They had to stun me to pick me up." She shrugged her shoulders apologetically as she spoke. Apollo stood for a moment, digesting the new information and sorting out options. The group waited patiently for him to speak. He looked at each in turn, as if trying to assess his resources. Coming to a decision, he spoke. "Lissanne will lead us back to the cell block. We'll hide and wait there for Rantek to be brought back to his cell. Then we'll let him out. As we leave, Jenna will lead us to the hangar and we'll all get out of here. Comments or suggestions?" There were none, so Jenna handed Lissanne the dimming glowstick and offered to take the rear guard position. Lissanne set the glowstick down, saying it was light enough to see from here on out, beginning just around the corner from where they were. The group set off, moving quietly and cautiously in an attempt to not attract attention to themselves. * * * * * Retracing their earlier path in the dust was easy, but soon they were in a more used area of the base. There was now plenty of light and, instead of dusty, the floors were polished and slick. Gradually Apollo became aware of a distant noise. It was more of a vibration in the floor under their feet than anything else, but it was definitely growing stronger. Lissanne stopped the group and cocked her head to one side as if listening intently. Apollo moved up beside her to speak softly. "I hear it, too. Think they're trying to chase you down?" Lissanne, still listening, was quite a long moment before she replied, a small shiver shaking her slight frame. "Probably. We're past where you picked up my trail, so they don't know you're here, yet." She bit her lip nervously for a moment, then turned her eyes to Apollo, digging something out of her pocket. "I'll go surrender: they'll put me back in my cell and you can let me out in a few centons." She handed Apollo a plastic card overlaid with squiggly metal lines. It had a hole punched in one end with a small chain threaded through the hole. "Use this to open the cell," she instructed him. "And don't take all yahren!" "Wait, Lissanne. They may kill you without waiting to take you anywhere. Stay here; I need you to guide us. We'll fight it out together if we have to." "Three warriors and a local against the whole garrison?" Her voice was sarcastic, with a touch of anger mixed in. "As for killing me, I took that risk when I signed on as a warrior and again when I said I'd lead you back to the cell block. You can't miss the cells. Three right turns, a left and another right. Third door on your left goes into the cell block. See you soon." She ducked under Apollo's reaching arm, ran down the corridor and around the corner before Apollo could stop her or make further protests. CHAPTER NINE As Apollo watched Lissanne's retreating figure, he regretted the necessity of allowing her to return alone. There was nothing he could do about it now that she was already up the hall, without drawing undue attention to himself. He fumed. The Cylons were more likely to kill her than anything else. Failing that, she'd probably end up in a high-security cell, making rescue impossible. Her words echoed in his mind 'I took that risk when I signed on as a warrior'. 'Yes,' he mentally agreed with her. 'You also took an oath to obey orders from your superior officers.' He tucked the identicard she'd given him into an inside pocket where it was unlikely to become lost or damaged. Jenna moved up beside him, her footsteps so quiet that only her movement seen from the corner of his eye alerted him to her presence. "Where'd she run off to?" His eyes forward on the cross-hallway where Lissanne had disappeared, Apollo muttered "To keep the Cylons off our backs." Suddenly, Lissanne crossed their corridor at a run, shooting back the way she'd just come. Apollo moved to stand against the wall where he'd be least likely to be noticed and motioned for the others to stand with him. Jenna opened her mouth to speak, but Apollo silenced her with a gesture and unslung the rifle he'd been carrying. He motioned for Glen to stay put. Moving as silently as possible, he crept as near to the cross-hall as he dared. Seemingly from out of nowhere came at least a dozen Cylons, all intent on their pursuit of Lissanne. They were firing their laser rifles at her, but because of her dodging, unpredictable course, they were unable to accurately track her. Most of their shots were destroying sections of the walls instead. A picture flashed across Apollo's mind of the rabbit he had tried to shoot last week and the unpredictable course it had chosen. The thought caused a small smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. Man certainly could learn a lot from nature! The leading Cylon fell; a victim of Lissanne's accurate aim and the other Cylons marched right over the top of him, as if he weren't there. Apollo allowed them all to pass, waiting until they were a good length down the hall, then stepped into the corridor, aiming at their rear flank and removing a Cylon or two. Jenna moved out into the hall with him and between them they had destroyed several more Centurions before the Cylons realized they were under attack from two directions. Lissanne continued to terminate Cylons from the front and the three Warriors made short work of the small patrol. Apollo lifted a rifle from the floor beside a now-dismembered Cylon and began recharging his weapon from the stock of the Cylon rifle. Jenna and Lissanne did the same and Glen came to meet them carrying the rifle he'd been given but as yet had not used. "Are those Cylons?" he asked, his face slightly pale, his voice very quiet. Apollo nodded. "Sorry you came?" He watched Glen's face closely. There was no hesitation before Glen answered. "Not at all, but even with what you told me, I expected lizards to have tails and be on all fours on the ground." "These aren't actual Cylons, they're Centurions; mechanical constructs. The Cylons chose the humanoid form because it's very adaptable, but built their drones much bigger and stronger than we are." Glen nearly shuddered, but suppressed it. "And these weapons," he continued, wide eyed, "they're laser guns. Like on TV. This technology really isn't from Earth." It was a quiet statement, but said so much more. Jenna looked up from the weapon charging in her lap and grinned momentarily. "Neither are we." Her face became serious again. "Glen, I'm sorry to have had to deceive you all this time. I'm not a kid without a memory; I'm a trained warrior. But if I'd told you about the Cylons in the beginning, would you have believed me?" Her voice was as serious as her face, her somber eyes watching him. Glen looked at the floor, then at her. "No, especially not in the condition I found you. But it does explain many things... I'm still not sure I believe all of it yet! In fact, I didn't really believe you or Apollo about the Cylons until I saw them myself and I'm still not sure this isn't a crazy dream. But it does explain why there wasn't a mark on that dead cougar. You used a laser gun, didn't you, Apollo?" His voice, though still quiet, was at once demanding and accusatory as he watched Apollo complete the task of charging his laser pistol. Apollo detached his pistol from the larger weapon and put it away. Setting the now-depleted laser rifle down near its previous owner, also in a useless condition, he addressed Glen. "Yes, I did, and you're not dreaming. So, now that you've seen what we're up against, will you please go back to camp before you get killed?" Apollo's voice was deep with conviction as he spoke to Glen, trying to convince him of the better course for Glen to follow. "No way. I'm in this to stay." Glen's voice was firm with his own convictions of what his actions should be. Apollo looked at him for several moments without speaking, their eyes conveying messages enough. Then, accepting Glen's decision, primarily because he didn't really have a choice, he took a few minutes to instruct him in the art of how to use the stolen Cylon rifle he had been carrying. Their weapons at full charge, Apollo picked up the rifle lying beside him and suggested they get moving before the decimated Cylon patrol was missed. Lissanne took lead position, followed by Apollo. Glen, intent on pulling his own weight, took rear guard. They moved more quickly now, trying to get as near to their objective as possible before another patrol came their way. Lissanne led them without hesitation through several more long corridors and they entered the cell block through a rear entrance. Apollo produced from his pocket the identicard Lissanne had given him earlier. He said quietly, "The best place to hide is against the front wall of the cells, just out of sight on the side of the door, one body per cell." Turning to Lissanne, he asked, "Which one is Rantek's?" Lissanne pointed to a cell and he nodded. Opening a different cell, he motioned Jenna in. Hesitating only a moment, she stepped inside and he closed the door behind her. He opened a second for Glen, who stepped in, then turned quickly, stepping back out of the cell. Keeping his voice at a whisper, he asked, "Do you have to lock the door?" Apollo nodded, pulling the card from the slot to demonstrate it for Glen. The door slid noiselessly closed. "When the door is closed, it locks automatically as the identicard leaves the slot." "Well, can't you leave the door open? I can see all of us getting trapped in here quite easily." "That's the general idea of the design, however, we do have the key." He held the identicard up for Glen to examine as he continued to explain. "I have to close the door because if it stays open too long, an alarm goes off. As you can see," he gestured toward Jenna's cell, "the holes in the door will give you plenty of ventilation without letting you out." Glen more closely examined the closed door of the cell. "Looks like some type of plastic." Apollo gave a half grin. "It's transparent tylineum, a very strong metal." He reopened the door and gestured for Glen to return to the cell. Glen stepped through and Apollo sealed him in while asking Lissanne which cell had been hers. She gestured and he placed her in it, remarking, "They'll expect to see you, Lissanne, therefore you can stand in open sight and keep an eye out for Rantek." She nodded, "Maybe they'll think I've been recaptured," she said, her voice not showing fear, but giving little evidence of any enthusiasm for the assignment. Apollo stepped to Rantek's cell and let himself in, closing the door behind him, then settled against the front wall to wait. CHAPTER TEN After what seemed like hours of waiting, Apollo finally heard the heavy Centurion footsteps coming down the hall towards the cells. Hoping they hadn't been seen on a scanner, Apollo stood and flattened himself against the wall out of sight of the opening. The footsteps paused outside his cell and the door opened. An unconscious body was unceremoniously dropped in a heap just inside the door. The door closed again and the footsteps retreated down the hall. A low whistle came from somewhere outside the cell, probably telling him the Cylons were gone for the moment. Apollo quickly stepped across the room to the Cylon's latest victim and began looking for injuries that needed immediate attention. Finding none, he concluded the man had been stunned or else beaten to the point where the pain itself would render him unconscious. He was a young man. His hair looked like it had once been a light red, but was now bleached by the sun to a golden blonde. One eye was swollen nearly shut. The other eye, bloodshot and staring unseeingly at the ceiling, was green. His nose had at one time been broken and allowed to heal improperly, yet he was not at all repugnant. His arms were covered with bruises and probably his legs as well, although short of undressing him Apollo could only guess. Judging by the gaunt look of his large frame, he had not been fed properly and was probably dehydrated as well. Apollo felt anger rising inside him at the way the man had been treated, knowing this was probably what they'd done to Jenna. The tattered clothing the man wore was not a colonial uniform, and looked as if it hadn't been washed in over a yahren. As the cells were situated so that prisoners were unable to see one another readily, Apollo couldn't have the girls identify the man until he woke up. He retreated to his corner of the cell to wait. If Rantek had been stunned, there was no way to awaken him early and Apollo didn't want the Cylons to hear his voice and come to investigate. Presently the man stirred and Apollo was quickly at his side, helping him to sit up. The man blinked several times, wiping at his good eye until his vision cleared. When he finally saw Apollo, a puzzled look came over his face and he tried to speak, but his dry throat would allow no words to pass. "Relax," Apollo said, "and don't try to talk. Are you Rantek?" The man nodded. "I'm Captain Apollo, from the Battlestar Galactica. We picked up your distress call and I've been looking for you. If you can walk, we'll get you out of here. Think you can make it?" Rantek nodded again and Apollo helped him to his feet. He swayed slightly, but managed to stay upright. Reaching through one of the holes in the door, Apollo inserted the identicard in its slot. He pressed the button to open the door and pulled his arm back quickly before the door took it off with its swift opening movement. Stepping out into the hallway Apollo was moving to release the others from their cells, when Cylons appeared in the corridor. Apollo only had time to push Rantek back into his cell and hand the identicard to Lissanne before the Cylons began firing. He took what scant cover was available in the shallow depression in the wall against the now closed door of Rantek's cell. Although the Cylons could not hit him here he was unable to free any others. He motioned for Lissanne to wait until he drew the Centurion's fire before opening her cell. She nodded her understanding. Apollo stepped into the Cylon's field of vision and began shooting, diverting their attention long enough for Lissanne to get her own door opened. She also began to fire at the Cylons, but found it awkward to deal with the large rifle in the narrow confines of the cell doorway. She tried several times before finding a position that worked well. Lissanne paused long enough between shots to fling the identicard across the corridor floor towards Jenna, praying her aim would be accurate enough for it to reach the target, without a stray shot from a Cylon rifle destroying it. Luck was with them; the card skidded to a stop at the base of Jenna's door, close enough to be reached. Snatching it up through a lower ventilation hole, Jenna soon had her door open and together the three of them blasted the remaining Cylons. As silence reigned, Jenna quickly let Glen out, then once again released Rantek. Apollo stepping close to support the injured man. The group hurried toward the end of the hallway as a piercing alarm sounded. "Blast it! Some must have gotten away!" Jenna muttered disgustedly as they quickly slipped through the door they'd used to enter the cell block. Laser fire exploded part of the wall just above them, the bolt narrowly missing Glen's head. Debris from the wall showered down on everyone. The group retreated quickly down the hall while firing behind them. Glen, after a few wild shots, got the hang of the heavy laser rifle and began using it with some accuracy, bringing down his fair share of Centurions. Upon reaching a cross hallway, Jenna cried, "This way!" and the group turned and ran down the hall, trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and their pursuers before they would need to turn and fight again. Their speed was hampered somewhat by Rantek's abused condition, but he seemed to grow stronger with every step, buoyed up by thoughts of freedom. Apollo kept a close watch on him, knowing that when the adrenaline rush wore off, he'd be totally exhausted; however, for now it meant he could move almost as quickly as the rest of the group. The Cylons rounded the corner and began to fire again and the humans turned once more to fight. Slowly but surely they were making progress against this larger group of Centurions, as they moved in the direction Jenna led them. Apollo glanced at his timepiece. It was nearly mid-day outside; they were getting short on time to get away and find the Charys before it moved on. He hoped the Charys would linger in the area in an attempt to find Lissanne; long enough for his small group to make contact, anyway. They rounded another corner and once more began to move as quickly as possible. As they passed a small alcove to their right, Jenna stopped. "Apollo and Glen stay in here. We'll try 'divide and conquer' again." Apollo and Glen moved into the alcove, pressing themselves against the wall in an attempt to become invisible to Cylon sensors. The rest of the group moved off down the hall. The Cylons marched around the corner with military precision, firing as they advanced. Apollo hoped that the girls and Rantek would provide targets too difficult for the Cylons to hit. As the Cylons passed his position, he prayed that none would look his way. If they did, they would certainly see him, as the alcove was neither large nor dark. By a piece of fantastic luck, or in answer to his prayers, Apollo wasn't sure which; not a single Cylon spotted them. Checking the charge level in his pistol, Apollo hoped he'd have enough power to get through this fight. As before, he allowed them to get far enough down the corridor that they would not be shooting at him at point-blank range, yet close enough for his aim to be deadly accurate. He nodded to Glen and they stepped out into the corridor, opening fire on the Cylons. This time, the Cylons were quicker to figure out what was going on, but the human's tactics were just illogical enough to confuse the machines temporarily, long enough for the warriors to gain the advantage. There were still several Centurions left when Apollo's weapon began to send a low voltage tingling through his hand, signaling that it was dangerously low on power. Sliding it into his holster, he quickly unslung the rifle he hadn't given Rantek because of his physical weakness. The rifle was very heavy to hold and difficult to aim correctly, but Apollo found it was easier to use if he held it at waist level and fired in the general direction he wanted it to go. Finally, the Cylons were disposed of and, reuniting, Apollo's small group scooped up Cylon guns, recharging their own weapons on the move. When their weapons were fully charged again, they put down the depleted rifles and continued on. The group stopped in confusion as the lights of the entire area went out, plunging them into an instant blackness, darker than night. Apollo carefully moved to the front of the group, speaking quietly as he went. "Shh, they'll be trying to locate us by sound and they'll also use infrared to look for our body heat. Jenna, can you navigate by feeling the wall? We don't want to use a glowstick if we can help it." "I think so." With continued caution, he proceeded, "You continue to lead. Everyone else put a hand on the shoulder of the person in front of you. No talking. Don't shuffle your feet and try not to make any noise. I'll take the rear guard." After a few moments of confusion, everyone was in line and they started off again in complete darkness. Their silence was very nearly perfect, broken only by the occasional sound of a quiet footfall. Apollo knew their silence wouldn't help disguise the body heat, but there was nothing he could do about that. They hadn't gone very far when Jenna stopped short. Because of the way they were linked, all stopped their forward motion and listened intently. They could now all hear what had stopped Jenna, the faint swishing sound of the red lights on the Cylon's helmets. Apollo felt Jenna reach him. Her whisper was almost sub-vocal as she said, "They're just around the corner waiting for us to show up. Should we retreat? Sounds like an awful lot of them." "Are they between us and the hangar?" "I... I think so." "You're not sure?" Concern tinged his voice. Jenna's voice betraying how close she was to tears, she answered, "I know the general direction we need to go, but I'm not sure of the exact route." "Are we lost?" Apollo was careful to keep all emotion out of his voice so she would feel no condemnation from him. "Not exactly, but I'm not positive exactly where we are in the dark." She sighed, "Apollo, it's been five years." Her voice shook just a bit, showing her fear and nervousness. "Shhh. It's all right," he answered to comfort her. "If nothing else, we can go out the way we came and catch the next battlestar home. Don't worry about it. Do you know if we need to go through those Cylons, or can we go around them somehow?" "If we go through them, we're almost at the hangar. I presume that's where we're headed?" A low but firm male voice whispered. "Rantek?" Apollo queried. "Yes. I've been in this area before. We're very near the control center and it's only about 30 metrons down that corridor to the landing bay." Jenna's whisper broke in. "Looks like we get to change guides again." Apollo considered, then consented and added, "Then we fight. Can everyone hear me?" There were whispers of assent. He continued, "The Cylons can't scan us around the corner. They know we're coming, but not when or exactly where, so we'll have a few microns of surprise on our side. We need to drive them back or destroy enough of them to get into the hangar. Once there, we'll grab a ship and go. Anyone else here have experience in flying a Cylon raider?" There was no answer. "Fine. Jenna will be copilot. Rantek will take the command chair and Glen and Lissanne will have to sit on the floor and brace themselves as best they can. We'll take whatever ship is first in line to go out. "Lissanne, you open the hangar door while we get the engines started." "Okay," she assented. "Why her?" Glen wanted to know. "She can run faster than Rantek and you don't know how to open the door." "So tell me how. I'll do it." Frustrated anger was evident in his tone. "Can you read enough Cylon to know which button is marked open and which one is marked self-destruct?" His whisper was blunt. "No." "Then skip it. Any other objections?" Apollo paused. Lissanne's voice came softly. "Apollo, I can't read Cylon either, but I think I can open it." Apollo hesitated. "No, I'll go. Hit the wrong switch and you'll destroy the panel and yourself, and we'll end up back in the prison block." Rantek put his hand on Apollo's arm and whispered, "I'm fluent in Cylon. I'll do it." Apollo hesitated an instant, his mind covering all the options. He disliked sending an injured man, but could think of no other alternative. Finally he spoke softly. "We'll give you as much cover as possible to give you time to get to the ship." Turning to the rest of the group, he added, "Any questions?" There was no sound as he paused momentarily. "Let's go." CHAPTER ELEVEN "Just a sec," Jenna's whispered voice said. There was silence for several long moments, then she was whispering again. "There's about twenty-five Centurions out there, about ten metrons down the hall to our right. With four guns, that's only... six a piece or so." Glen's voice, even though a whisper, was full of amazement. "How do you know there's twenty-five of those monsters?" Though her voice was nearly inaudible as well, the trace of smugness was very clear. "I laid on the floor and took a quick peek. They're scanning a bit higher than six inches from the floor." Glen made a small sound in his throat but Jenna couldn't tell if it was disgust or amazement. Apollo considered the latest information, once more weighing the options open to him. "Let me have a rifle," said Rantek. "That will better our odds." "Those really aren't bad odds," Apollo acknowledged as he lay a hand on Rantek's arm, "and I need you to conserve your strength so you can get that door open. Just stay close behind us for right now." A gentle squeeze on Rantek's forearm took the sting from his words as Rantek realized Apollo was right. Turning to the others, Apollo continued. "I'd say an all out frontal attack would make the best use of our surprise. Everyone ready?" There was whispered acknowledgment. "On three." They all moved as close to the corner as they could without being detected by the Cylons. "One... two... three!" Apollo finished, stepping well out into the hallway and beginning to fire at the Cylons. It was difficult to see to aim well; the only indication they had of where the Cylons were was the oscillating red light on their helmets. It soon became brighter in the hallway, however, due to the many laser beams criss-crossing in a deadly web and the light provided by exploding Centurions. They slowly advanced down the corridor, firing at anything that moved ahead of them. A Cylon laser grazed Jenna's leg, throwing her off-balance against the wall. Glen helped her up and she tried to keep pace, but found it too painful to put any weight on the leg. Glen dropped the rifle he was carrying and picked Jenna up. She tried to hold on to Glen with one hand and shoot Centurions with the other, but found the angle too awkward to be effective. Rantek grabbed at her wrist. "Give me your laser, Jenna. I'll cover you." She handed her pistol to him and he began firing with great vigor at the Centurions in their path. Finally they reached the hangar door, having forced the few remaining Cylons far enough down the hall to be out of their way. Apollo opened the hallway door to the hangar and hurried everyone through. Shutting it behind him, he used one shot from his pistol to destroy the opening mechanism thereby delaying pursuit for a short time. There were building lights here and he pointed at the front ship in line and yelled, "This way!" The small group moved across the vast floor as quickly as possible. Lissanne and Apollo were in the lead, followed closely by Glen, still carrying Jenna. Rantek hurried in another direction, heading for the panel that controlled the outer hangar doors. The alarm began to sound loudly throughout the hangar and they all knew many Cylons would be in the hangar within microns. With a final burst of speed, Apollo reached the ship. Tearing the door open, he entered and settled into the pilot's seat. He breathed a sigh of relief that the controls were identical in appearance to those on Baltar's ship, which he'd flown once with Starbuck quite a long while ago. Activating the flight computer, he then started the sequence to warm up the engines sufficiently for take-off. Jenna joined him in the cockpit and strapped in, following his directions on which systems needed to be switched on. Apollo found a moment to strap himself in. "Are you two back there braced for flight? It's going to be a rough take-off!" Apollo's words were flung over his shoulder. "Ready!" Lissanne called. "Ready!" Glen echoed. "How's Rantek doing?" Apollo demanded. "He's just reached the control panel," Jenna reported. "The doors are opening now." "Good. He's got about five microns to get here before we're ready to go." Jenna nodded. "The hangar doors are nearly fully open now. We've got plenty of room." She glanced back to the control station where Rantek was working and drew in her breath sharply. "Centurions in the hangar bay. They're firing on Rantek!" She released her straps and began to rise out of her seat. Apollo's firm grip on her arm and the pain from her wounded leg returned her to her seat. "The best thing we can do for him now, is to strap in and be ready to go." His voice was calm and low, but the tone of command allowed no argument. Jenna nodded as she began to re-fasten the straps around her, a sharp frown marring her forehead. A large explosion rocked their ship, the fireball centering where Rantek had been standing. Jenna's voice was flat, devoid of all emotion. "He must have destroyed the panel so we could get out the doors before the Cylons could get them closed." Glen's voice was shaking. "There's no way anyone could have survived that fireball." "Lissanne, shut the door," Apollo spoke crisply. "Glen, take the third seat and strap in. Hurry." As they moved to follow his orders, Apollo said softly, "Objective accomplished. I found out what happened to him and he's beyond the reach of the Cylons. He won't be forgotten, I'll see to that." As soon as the door was shut and Lissanne was braced again, Apollo threw the ship into motion, lifting swiftly into the bright blue afternoon sky. "This might be a good time to do some damage to their base before they follow us." Lissanne said, holding on to some cargo webbing for dear life. Apollo shook his head. "I don't want to do any fancy maneuvering this close to the ground. I'm not proficient enough in this thing to take that sort of risk just to slow them down. Our primary responsibility is to let the fleet know about the base and destroy it properly." Apollo turned the ship in the direction of Glen's camp, saying, "How's the scanner look?" "Empty," Jenna replied, then, "No... wait," she paused a moment. "Five pursuit craft." "We'll worry about getting Glen home later. Let's get some altitude here." The ship began climbing sharply, pressing them all into their seats. "The firing controls should be on your side, about halfway up your panel on the extreme right. Find them?" "Think so," Jenna answered, experimentally pressing a purplish button. Twin beams of blue energy reached out in front of the ship, exploding the air at their point of contact. "Got it." "How close are they behind us?" Apollo wanted to know. "Too close. Twenty microns and closing. Are you going to loop?" Apollo shook his head. "I'm going to hit full reverse thrust. They'll fly right past us, into our sights." "Apollo, that's crazy! It'll never work!" Distress filled her voice. "Trust me." He was calm, his voice assured. "Okay Captain!" Doubt hung heavy in her voice. Apollo smiled briefly as he slowed the craft as quickly as he could and the Cylons flew passed him, turning in their seats to see where he'd gone. Lissanne lost her grip on the cargo net and slid into the back of Jenna's seat. She quickly scrambled for something to hold on to as Apollo accelerated again, now behind the Cylons. As soon as the first raider was past them, Jenna began to blast the ships. She hit the first one in the engines, transforming it instantly into a glowing fireball. The second was cut nearly in half under her fire and disintegrated before their eyes. Nothing remained but a cloud of sparkling particles, drifting slowly down towards the ground. All this while they had been climbing steeply, the Cylons seeking their natural fighting ground in the airless void of space, the three remaining ships using evasive measures to avoid Apollo's fire. Apollo was also eager to get out of the atmosphere. First, he'd have plenty of room to maneuver and second, he wouldn't have to worry about meeting any of Earth's military pilots in addition to the Cylons. The sky grew dark, then black. The stars "came out" as they left the Earth's atmosphere and entered space. Glen, marveling at the sight, said nothing, though the look on his face would have spoken volumes if anyone had taken a moment to look. He had a sudden sensation of falling and it was all he could do not to become quite ill. The gun he'd laid on the floor began to float upwards, until Lissanne grabbed it and threaded it through the holes in the net she clung to. "See if you can get the gravity working," Apollo muttered, swallowing convulsively. Jenna nodded and began fiddling with several switches before she found the one she wanted. Weight returned with a rush, for which Glen's stomach thanked her profusely. A sudden fireball erupted next to the view port, causing all aboard to flinch. Apollo dived away from the ships chasing them, executing a neat outside loop and emerging behind the trio of Cylon ships. "I didn't know these ships were that maneuverable," Jenna remarked as she fired on her targets, destroying another raider. "Neither did I," Apollo returned with a grin. Slowing down so as to keep the Cylons in their sights as long as possible, he continued. "They must be worse pilots than we thought." Jenna, blasting another ship to fragments, agreed, then added, "Either that, or their instruction manual skipped the chapter on 'Creative Combat Maneuvers'!" The last Cylon ship turned tail and ran toward the planet below them. "He'll be back with reinforcements." Apollo remarked, "Let's see if we can raise the Charys on the radio." He searched the available radio frequencies, finding only one that was used by the fleet and the ship began transmitting an emergency signal. Apollo turned briefly in his chair and gave Glen a reassuring smile. "Sorry we had to drag you along like this; I meant to drop you off at your campsite before we left." Glen grinned back. "I don't mind. I wanted to see your space ship anyway. Besides," he teased, "Hannah's not expecting me for a day or so." His voice then became more serious as he asked, "How will I get home, when the time comes?" Apollo frowned and turned back to his controls. "I really don't know. We have to do something fairly soon, before we're out of range. Right now, though, that's the least of our concerns." "You mean the one that got away?" "That, too," Apollo agreed. "'That, 'too'? What else?" Jenna answered, her voice flat and serious. "Have you stopped to consider what the Charys is going to think when we come cruising up in a Cylon fighter?" "I hadn't thought of that," Glen said. He grew very quiet as he sat contemplating the possibilities, not liking the prospects those thoughts brought to mind. "But aren't we reaching them on their frequency?" Lissanne's voice showed her concern. Apollo's voice was so quiet they almost couldn't hear it as he murmured, "I hope so. I sincerely hope so." CHAPTER TWELVE The Battlestar Charys was on the far side of the moon, hiding from Earth's satellites. On the bridge, the young woman at the scanner console was quickly becoming confused. She looked at her screens, punched several buttons and again studied the screens before her. A small sound of frustration came from her as she tried once again. With a negative shake of her head, she turned around toward the command circle. "Colonel." Her voice betrayed her puzzlement. "Yes, what is it?" He came over to her post, standing behind her so he could see the screens. "I'm reading a single craft of Cylon make, but it's transmitting a distress beacon over the viper channel." "Are you sure that ship is the one transmitting the beacon?" "I've checked it twice; see for yourself, Sir." The colonel quickly used the computer to verify the signal they were receiving. He studied the control boards, coming to a decision. "Send out a patrol to check it out. They're not to fire unless fired upon. I want to know who... or what... is in that ship." "Yes, Sir." * * * * * "Can't we make verbal contact with the Charys?" Apollo's voice was edged with the frustration they all felt. The atmosphere in the small Cylon fighter was charged with nervousness and fear. Jenna shook her head. "We just don't have the right frequency. The best we can do is the beacon on the viper channel that you already opened." "Can we voice transmit on that channel?" Glen wanted to know. "No, only the recorded distress signal." Her voice was flat, unemotional. Apollo let out his breath noisily, trying to think of a way to keep from being blasted out of the sky by the warriors he knew would be launching soon. Glen spoke again. "Is there any way we can change the recording? Could we tell them who we are, maybe kind of like an answering machine?" "Glen! You're brilliant!" Jenna turned off the radio, unstrapped and began to crawl under the console. "What's an answering machine?" Apollo and Lissanne asked nearly in unison. Jenna's voice came from under the panel. "It's a... never mind, I'll explain later." Apollo reached over to Jenna's side of the craft and moved a switch. Looking intently at the numbers scrolling up the screen, one set of numbers began to flash. He moved the switch again and a picture flipped up onto the screen. It was the outline of a battlestar. Returning the switch to its original position, he noted the closing distance between the small "x" in the center of the screen and the large triangle at the far edge. Suddenly, two smaller triangles appeared on the screen next to the large one and began moving across the screen toward the "x". "They've launched two vipers," Apollo announced tersely. "I'm hurrying," Jenna's voice drifted up from under the console. Moments later she crawled out from under it. "That should do it," she said and re-activated the radio. * * * * * "Captain Kiernan, something's wrong with my radio." The young man in the viper punched some of the buttons on his computer keyboard and frowned at the results. Kiernan was concerned with the results of his own computer punching. "My receiver says the transmission has changed and it's now running backwards. Is that what you get, Trello?" "Yes, but who would make the message run backwards? Not Cylons, that's for sure!" "You've got a point there. What if someone wanted us to know they weren't Cylons?" Pushing a button to transmit to the Charys, Captain Kiernan spoke. "Gold leader to base. Would you scan that ship for life forms?" The response was immediate. "Scanning... As far as we can tell, there are four humans aboard." There was a pause. "Commander says try to get them to follow you in if you can't make radio contact." Kiernan acknowledged the order, then spoke to his mate. "Hear that, Trello?" "Yes, Sir. I can't raise them on any frequency we've got; I don't think they're even receiving us. What do you want to do?" "I've got them in sight. Let's move into standard patrol formation; put them in the middle. If there's a warrior at the controls, he'll follow us." There was significant a pause before Trello responded. "And if it's Cylons?" "The front ship will get blasted and you'll retaliate. Ready?" His voice was unemotional. Trello's voice held some uncertainty. "I guess so. I mean, yes, Sir." Trello could not see Captain Kiernan's grim half-smile at his hesitancy as they began to maneuver their ships. Kiernan thought momentarily of his own first encounter with a Cylon ship, remembering his own misgivings. 'Well,' he thought, 'there's no time like the present. Besides, this may not be Cylons.' Watching their controls, they moved closer to the Cylon ship. * * * * * "There they are now," Apollo said quietly. "Have you been able to receive anything from them?" "No," Jenna's voice was steady, but still betrayed her nervousness. "Do you think they'll shoot us down?" Glen's voice held a great deal more concern. "It's a possibility," Apollo admitted. "I hope they won't open fire as long as we don't shoot first. It depends on who they sent out after us. Some of us are more trigger-happy than others." They all sat tensely as the vipers flew past them. One ship came up on their right, far enough behind that Jenna remarked, "That's either a real loose formation, or he's going to shoot us." Apollo glanced up from the controls. "I think they'd have shot by now if they were going to. Just make sure you don't accidentally hit that firing stud!" Jenna grinned and saluted. "Yes, Sir!" Apollo returned the smile then involuntarily ducked as the second viper passed close over his head and took up a lead position ahead and to his left. "Patrol formation!" Jenna crowed with delight. Lissanne and Glen, though silent, relaxed visibly. The lead viper then began a turn that would take them to the Charys. Apollo followed; trying to match the moves of the smaller, more maneuverable ship, knowing their lives rested on his ability to fly in formation. Soon the Charys came into view. Glen gaped at the sheer size of it, while the warriors were extremely relieved to be alive to see it. The lead viper landed and Apollo came in, giving the other pilot just enough time to get out of his way. The moment their ship landed and stopped a security team surrounded them. Opening the door, Lissanne descended the ramp first. She was met with perplexed looks on the part of the security guards and a moment of silence. Recognizing her, the squad leader smiled. "Lt. Lissanne! We thought you were a lost cause! Welcome home!" He reholstered his laser, the rest of the team following suit. "Thanks." She smiled in return. The others from the Cylon ship joined her and she started to make introductions when the lights in the landing bay dimmed and turned red, accompanied by a loud klaxon. "Battle stations!" She groaned. "Looks like the Cylons made it back with their reinforcements." Taking the security squad leader by the arm, she quickly explained, "Glen's a civilian from Earth; take care of him, he's okay. Lt. Jenna's hurt. She needs to go to life station. I'll leave her and this ship," she motioned toward the Cylon raider, "in your capable hands and I'll see you later. Thanks!" She smiled up at him then turned. Beckoning to Apollo, she yelled to be heard over the noise of the alarm. "Let's see if we can find a couple of spare vipers. Are you game?" Apollo grinned, nodded and quickly followed her to the launching area. CHAPTER THIRTEEN Apollo landed his borrowed viper, taxiing it neatly out of the way of the ship behind him. Lissanne was waiting for him as he climbed out of the ship. She seemed somewhat agitated. "Commander wants to see us both. Right away." Her voice was serious, warning him that the interview just ahead might be difficult. He looked at her tightly drawn lips, the controlled manner of her stance, the shuttered expression in her eyes. She didn't seem to want to talk and Apollo honored her silence. He followed her out of the landing bay and down a corridor to the elevator. She punched the button for the correct level and the doors slid shut, the lift quickly whisking them off to their destination. As they arrived outside the Commander's quarters, Apollo tugged his jacket straight and smoothed his rumpled tunic tucking it in better where the exertions of the day had loosened it, and noticed Lissanne doing much the same. He smiled to himself. Ready, they pressed the door chime to signal their presence and the door immediately slid open. Apollo gestured for Lissanne to precede him into the room and she gave him a sarcastic smile as she complied, half-sure that it wasn't entirely courteousness that prompted Apollo to let her face the Commander first. The Commander sat behind his desk, his deep blue uniform crisp and neat. Apollo was surprised at his young age; he looked no older than most of the warriors on board. He was reading some kind of printout as they walked in and did not acknowledge their presence. Apollo recognized the intimidation tactic for what it was. He'd used it often enough on cadets and though he remained standing, he did not begin to get nervous and jumpy the way the cadets usually did. He took the opportunity to examine the room from beneath his lashes. The Commander's office was strictly standard issue, decorated in the usual blue and silver, but without a single personal item visible. Jenna and Glen sat on a couch near the door. Jenna was smiling broadly, her joy at once again being on a battlestar... any battlestar... so great she could not conceal it. She was in uniform and no longer appeared frail; indeed, she looked every inch the warrior she was. Glen was looking around with amazement scrawled all over his face. Apollo gave a small smile, knowing what type of thoughts must be chasing around in his head. He had been amazed at the size of the Galactica the first time he'd seen her, and he'd grown up knowing about battlestars and preparing to live on one. "Something amuses you, Captain?" The Commander asked enigmatically. Apollo returned his attention to the man behind the desk. "Just the look on Glen's face, Sir. With your permission, I'd like to borrow a shuttle to return him to his home." "I was quite disappointed that you didn't come to see me right away," the Commander said, his light blue eyes coldly stabbing a glare at Apollo. He totally ignored Apollo's request. "Could it be that Capricans don't practice common courtesy?" Apollo, stung by the remark, clenched his teeth, the smile immediately forgotten. Although spoken with impertinence, the Commander was correct. He should have reported in at once. "I would have come immediately, Sir, but I was responding to the red-alert. I felt it was my duty to help fight the Cylon ships that followed me here." His voice was studiously polite. The commander gave a brief, frozen smile, his light blue eyes like ice chips. "Next time, it might behoove you to see me first. We have warriors perfectly capable of fending off the few Cylon ships a careless person might bring with him." Apollo's temper flared, but his training stood him in good stead. His voice sounded calm as he addressed the arrogant man before him. "Yes, Sir. Next time, I'll come disturb you on the bridge in the middle of a battle so you can see that I understand how to conduct myself and perform all the social niceties." Ignoring the sarcasm, the Commander appeared to relax a little. "Good. By the way, I'm Commander Tyson, in command of the Charys. Your name, Captain?" "Flight Captain Apollo from the Battlestar Galactica. I take it you've met Lt. Jenna and Glen already?" "Yes. They've told me a great deal about a Cylon base down on Sol Three." The hidden rebuke was noted but Apollo didn't outwardly respond to it, just tried to understand the reason for the high formality in the commander's manner and his use of the technical name for Earth instead of the more casual address that nearly everyone else used. He nodded. "There's a base there. It's a full-sized garrison, but not fully staffed. Much of the base is not in use." He kept his own voice low, polite, and formal. "Lt. Jenna indicated as much. I've reported her observations to representatives of the Council on Terradia and requested instructions." He once again looked at the printout on the desk in front of him. Apollo wondered anew at his choice of actions... they were directly out of the textbook. His eyes watched the commander closely. The young commander looked up, his gaze still cold. "You're welcome to enjoy the hospitality of my ship until I receive my orders concerning you from the Council." His gaze was sharp as he looked Apollo straight in the face. "You may not, as yet, borrow any craft for any function, no matter how 'reasonable' the purpose may seem to you. I hope I make myself clear, Captain." Apollo put his hands behind his back as much to appear calm as to control his desire to wrap them around the Commander's throat. His fingers curved in a loose clench, he responded, keeping his voice flat and controlled. "Yes, Sir. Perfectly clear, Sir. May I inquire as to your plans for returning this civilian to his home and family?" "No, you may not. That will be decided when I receive word from Terradia. In the meantime, you brought him aboard; he's your responsibility. See that he stays out of trouble." His temper rising further at the Commander's attitude, Apollo replied tersely, "Yes, Sir." Commander Tyson returned to his computer printout and said in a bored tone of voice, "Dismissed." Beckoning to Glen, Apollo spun on his heel and stalked out of the room. If the door had not been of the automatic sliding type, it would have slammed loudly behind him. Glen moved quickly and followed Apollo into the hallway, Jenna and Lissanne right behind, but Apollo was already halfway down the corridor to the elevator. "Apollo," Jenna called, "wait up!" He paused at the open elevator door until the other three joined him. They all stepped in and the door closed behind them. "Officer's club," he said the anger still evident in his voice. "What level?" "Gamma deck, but you can't take Glen there, he's a civilian. How about the rejuvenation center? It's on Beta." "Fine." Apollo punched the correct button and the elevator was on its way. Turning to Lissanne, he asked, "Is he always so arrogant, or was that show just for our benefit?" Lissanne colored in embarrassment for her Commander's actions. "He's just sort of new. He was given command just two yahrens ago. His grandfather died. Our custom is for the commander to select his replacement. No one much likes his arrogance. It's new, too. I'd never actually served with him, but I knew him at the Academy. He was pretty formal, but really very nice. I think choosing Tyson for commander is the only bad judgment call the old man ever made." Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. "It's a wonder you haven't mutinied yet." Apollo's voice softened as knowledge and reason replaced his anger. Lissanne giggled. "'Yet' being the operative word. Several of us have put in for transfers. I just hope mine comes through before the mutiny does." "You've asked for a transfer?" "Yes, to the Galactica. Ensign Cree has been telling us how wonderful Commander Adama is and how he wishes he never left." Apollo's voice was now filled with interest, his eyes lighting as his anger faded. "Cree's here? How's he doing? I'd like to talk with him." The elevator stopped at their level and they all stepped out. "I'll see if I can find him for you. Rejuvenation Center's right over there." She pointed down the hallway to the left. Apollo, Glen and Jenna followed her instructions and Lissanne hurried off in the opposite direction in search of Ensign Cree. CHAPTER FOURTEEN Commander Tyson prowled around the perimeter of the bridge, pausing to gaze out at the huge star field visible on the screen before him. The stars drifted placidly, stretching into infinity. He let his mind drift among them, feeling almost as if he could just step out of his ship and sink into the depths of space. The peace he sought, however, was not forthcoming, though usually he could find it here. His mind was too caught up on the events of the day; he could not relax entirely. Unsure of himself in his too-new command, he found it quite disconcerting to be descended upon by several warriors in a Cylon ship, carrying a civilian and news of a Cylon base where none should be. Add to that the copious praises Lt. Jenna and Glen had heaped upon Apollo's head and the memories of the extreme difficulty he'd encountered passing Apollo's war games class at the Academy, and Tyson was not in the best of humors where Apollo was concerned. He had felt one glimmer of triumph when the always-cool Captain's eyes had flashed with anger; but he had kept his temper. The man was impossible! Did he never make a mistake? Did he never lose control? Tyson wondered how Apollo did it. He was nearly a legend, but he wasn't the least bit arrogant about it. It was almost disgusting. Yet Tyson wished he could learn to be more like Apollo. He felt inadequate as a commander. He was doing the best he knew how, but he just wasn't communicating with his people. It frustrated him to see his friends pull away from him. He could plainly see that if something didn't happen, and soon, he'd have a mutiny on his hands. He just wished he knew what to do. He wondered what the "exalted Apollo" would do under the circumstances. If only he knew Apollo. If only he dared ask his advice. If only... A voice interrupted his reverie. "Incoming message from Terradia, Commander." Tyson quickly turned and walked toward the command circle, wishing heartily that his grandfather had not thrust this burden upon him without giving him adequate time to prepare for it, or had at least waited for him to become comfortable being a lieutenant before he thrust the full responsibility of a battlestar upon him! Reaching the command circle, an officer handed him a printout. He nodded his acknowledgment, turning his attention to the paper. Frowning at the contents, he said without looking up, "Have Captain Apollo, Lt. Jenna, Lt. Lissanne and my command staff meet me in my office immediately." Turning, he left the bridge. * * * * * Deep in conversation with Ensign Cree, Apollo was surprised and slightly concerned that the summons to see the Commander had come so quickly. Extracting a favor from Cree to look after Glen for him, he collected Jenna from the other end of the room and they headed for the Commander's office. The planning session was short and intensive, and soon the tactics were laid in place for the total destruction of the Cylon base below them on Earth. The Warriors involved in the assault were gathered and briefed. Apollo was placed in command of the expedition only because the message from Terradia ordered it. He knew from the increased animosity in Tyson's manner that the assignment was not his choice. * * * * * Freshly showered and in a clean, borrowed uniform, Apollo stood near the shuttle, datapad in hand. Several hangar crewmembers bustled around the shuttle, fueling and inspecting it to make sure it was ready to go. Nearly everything was set. As he glanced around the hangar area, he noticed Glen striding purposefully across the hangar deck. Ensign Cree trailed in his wake, protesting, "You can't bother him now, he's busy!" They reached the shuttle and immediately Cree began to explain their presence to Apollo. "Apollo, I tried to keep him in the Rejuvenation Center, but he insisted on finding you and I couldn't stop him." Apollo wondered how he was going to deal with Glen. He could not let Glen go back into the Cylon base, that was certain. Noticing the commotion going on around the shuttle, Glen asked, "What's going on here?" Apollo's words were spoken tersely. "We're getting ready for a mission. Please go back with Cree to the Rejuvenation Center, Glen. I'll join you when I get back." A hangar crewman came up to the shuttle, pushing a cart with several boxes on it. "Where do you want this solonite, Captain?" "Distribute it evenly among the teams. We'll be carrying it in packs." The crewman began unloading the boxes and taking them into the shuttle. "What's solonite?" Glen had not moved an inch. Apollo looked irritated. "It's a high-powered explosive." A light of understanding came into Glen's eyes. "You're going down to wipe out that base, aren't you?" His voice was accusing. "Yes. And before you ask, no, you're not coming. You are going to wait here on the Charys until we get back and then I'm going to take you home. Cree will look after you while we're gone." There was a finality in his voice and straight look at Glen that could not be mistaken nor could it be argued with. Exasperation bit at Glen as he looked at Apollo. A long moment passed, then Glen snorted in disgust. "Apollo, I don't need a baby sitter!" Anger and frustration were clearly evident in his words. Apollo took a deep breath and looked at Glen squarely. He tried to assess what was in his mind, in his heart. He also tried to think of the best way to placate him to keep him safe on the Charys during the next several hours. "He won't be so much a baby sitter as a tour guide, Glen. Someone who knows his way around. He'll answer any questions you have and keep you from being picked up by security. Don't give him any trouble, please." Glen, returning the serious look Apollo gave him, was unsettled by Apollo's growing irritation. He was on Apollo's turf and should play by Apollo's rules. He would ask the same were the tables turned. Quietly, he answered. "I'd like to be with you on this one. It is, after all, my home; my planet." Apollo shook his head. "It just isn't possible, Glen. I'm sorry." The muscles in Apollo's jaw clenched and unclenched several times as they assessed each other silently. "All right, Apollo." Glen's voice showed his disappointment, but also displayed his understanding. Apollo appreciated the man's capitulation and placed his hand on Glen's shoulder, a smile of thanks curving his lips. "We won't be long." Glen, regret in his eyes, looked at Ensign Cree with mock severity. "Where do you hide your food? I'm starving!" "Right this way!" Cree grinned and was quick to remove Glen from the hangar deck. Apollo watched them go with relief and ducked inside the shuttle to make sure each team had the solonite they needed. Within minutes they were ready to launch. * * * * * Glen strode down the corridor after Cree, quite relieved, really, at the thought of not having to return to the somewhat spooky Cylon base with its seven-foot-tall gun-toting lizards, but he was angry that they'd felt it necessary to make the decision for him. He wondered for a moment why they hadn't assigned Jenna to be his baby sitter... scratch that... his "guide", until he realized she was probably going back down with the assault team. After all, her intimate knowledge of the innards of the base would be extremely valuable to the warriors now. Concern for her washed over him and he hoped she'd be okay. Glen felt the deck plates shudder under his feet and was startled, thinking something was wrong with the ship. Cree, seeing his slight wincing movement and sudden look at the floor, smiled gently. "We're right over the launch tubes. That noise and vibration is someone's exhaust bouncing around in the closed space. It's very normal, so don't worry about it." "That sounds like more than one ship. Is that only Apollo's crew?" Cree checked his chronometer. "It's the wrong time of day for a patrol to go out, so it's probably the viper escort for the assault team." "Viper escort?" Glen's curiosity was getting the best of him. "Vipers are your fighters, aren't they?" Cree grinned, "Yep. And they're very sweet ships to fly." "Why send an escort along? I think they'd want the smallest amount of ships, to avoid detection." "Shuttles aren't armed, so when we move personnel by shuttle, unless it's ship-to-ship within a fleet, we usually send one or two vipers along to protect them." "All that noise was only one or two ships... vipers... launching?" Glen's voice showed his disbelief. "No, I'd say five vipers launched. They'd take a bigger crew because it's two shuttles and they're expecting trouble. We've already had a battle today and one yesterday, too. There'll be Warriors standing by to launch until we receive word they've reached the surface safely. From then on, it's the ground teams' party." He continued down the corridor, Glen trailing in his wake. "How are they going to find the base again?" Cree grinned and suddenly looked very boyish. "Apollo has this incredible brain! If he's been there once, he can find it again. It's uncanny and the envy of every warrior in the fleet! I don't know how he does it! And when you ask him, he just smiles at you and winks. It's maddening!" There was great respect and some envy in the ensign's voice, with a bit of hero worship in his eyes. Glen, however, was not reassured. "Apollo slept all the way to the base and Jenna slept a good portion of the way. He never saw the road." Cree paused a moment for thought, then continued. "But he flew the raider out of the base, or they could have gotten the take-off coordinates from the Cylon raider you guys brought in. There's all sorts of information in the data banks. The intelligence people are going over the ship with a finely tuned scanner. They'll get everything they can before we shove it out into space and destroy it." "Why destroy it?" Glen's voice mirrored his surprise. "We haven't got the hangar space to store it. If we just shoved it out into space, the Cylons would salvage it. So why give it back to them? Destroy it and they have to build another before they can come after us." Glen nodded, accepting this knowledge in silence and continued to follow Cree down the corridor to what he hoped would be a very tasty dinner. Enroute, he asked Cree many questions about the battlestar... as much to learn about her as to keep his thoughts busy. He needed to try not to let his mind linger on the ships flying down to his planet with Jenna aboard. CHAPTER FIFTEEN Once the solonite had been distributed and the packs carefully secured, Apollo took a seat near the front of the shuttle where he could converse with the pilot if needed. The warrior at the controls handled the shuttle with precision and the liftoff was smooth. Apollo settled back in his seat for an uneventful ride down to the surface. It took nearly an hour to reach their desired orbital position above the planet. From their high perch, they waited until the moment was right, then began their descent through the atmosphere. The vipers' pilots waited tensely in a geosynchronous orbit virtually holding their collective breaths. They stared at their scanners, fervently hoping they wouldn't be needed. The atmosphere in the shuttles was strained, partly in anticipation of the mission to come and partly nervousness at having left their defenses behind. They would be helpless for several minutes should the Cylons attack them now. The descent itself was flown in tight formation, nearly straight down so as to confuse the local radar systems into thinking they were natural meteorites. This trick had been used before, to the advantage of the warriors. The last thing they needed at this point was to have the local military checking out their solonite bombs and laser weapons! In a very short time, they were close enough to the surface to level out. The first shuttle landed near the door Apollo and Jenna had uncovered. Jenna was leading that team, their mission was to free any other prisoners the Cylons had taken and get them out of the way of the explosions which would destroy the base: also, to lay out some charges to help in the destruction. Her team was very small, five Warriors, so there would be plenty of room in the shuttle for anyone they picked up along the way. Apollo's shuttle, on the other hand, was filled with five teams of four Warriors each. Each team had separate objectives. Once they'd broken into the hangar, one group would hold that area, while attaching solonite to Cylon ships in order to prevent pursuit. One team was to find and destroy the main computer room. A third was ready to go after the back-up computers. Lissanne headed the team in charge of destroying the power supply. Apollo looked at the other members of his team. Pasha was a short girl and somewhat chubby, but looked quite capable of taking care of herself. Kiernan was compactly built and appeared strong. Grayson was the tallest of the three, close to Apollo's own height and build. Apollo's group having been assigned to the control center, they only needed one full pack of solonite between them. The hardest part of their trip would be getting in and out of the control room. They each carried a fully charged pistol in addition to the one in their holsters. They also carried two glowsticks each. Kiernan, Apollo noted, carried a mini medikit, probably containing only bandages and a salve good for numbing the pain of laser wounds. The shuttle pilot landed very near to the large hangar doors. The warriors got out of the shuttle, collecting their packs of explosives as they went. Apollo supervised the placement of four large solonite bombs along the seam of the doors, which lay flat on the desert floor. Making sure everyone was under cover; he gave the signal for the bombs to be detonated. The explosion brilliantly lit the night sky; and the sound echoed off the distant mountains with a sharp crack. The shuttle rocked with the blast. Apollo hoped no locals would come to investigate the noise and light, hopefully they'd be gone before anyone could reach the remote desert area. When the dust cleared somewhat, they could see that one of the hangar doors had fallen completely to the floor, crushing everything beneath it to rubble. The other door hung at a precarious angle, its slick surface making a perfect slide for the warriors to make a fairly safe descent to the hangar floor. The crew that was to remain in the hangar began to string long pieces of thin rope down the slanted door to aid in climbing back out, while the rest of the Warriors slid down the door and split up into their teams. Apollo glanced around to locate his team. They were all near him, so he headed for the door by which they'd entered the hangar on their previous visit. Another team followed them toward the door, which showed no sign of the damage they had inflicted a few hours before. He looked toward the control panel Rantek had shattered. It had also been completely repaired and there was no sign of Rantek's body. There was a Cylon draped across the panel where he'd fallen a moment before, the fight already beginning. Just as they reached the door, it slid open. Warriors dived to either side for cover and came up firing at the Centurions now pouring into the launching bay area. Apollo crouched behind a large tank near the wall and picked them off as they came through the door, as did others of his team. Soon there was a pile of silver-plated bodies in front of the doorway. This slowed the Cylons' entrance into the hangar, further aiding the warriors in exterminating them one at a time. Someone yelled to Apollo to get away from the tank and he moved to find other cover. A blast behind him threw him to the floor. As he regained his feet, he looked at the furious flames now engulfing the tank he'd been crouching behind. Acrid fumes filled the hangar, proclaiming to all noses that tylium was on fire. Apollo sent a mental thanks to whoever had yelled, thereby saving his life. Finally the Cylons ceased climbing over the pile of dead Centurions and the firing stopped in their area of the hangar. They moved cautiously out into the corridor, fearing an ambush, but met with no resistance. The two teams who'd come this direction split up, each searching for their own objective. Apollo gave directions to his group. "Rantek said the control room wasn't very far from this hangar entrance." Gesturing to a nearby cross-hallway, he continued. "Pasha, Kiernan take that hall, Grayson come with me this way." He turned and began walking quickly down the hall in search of a door. After several minutes, a head poked around the corner from the other corridor. "Apollo!" Kiernan called, "We've found it!" Apollo and Grayson turned and hurried back the way they'd come, skidding on the polished floor as they rounded the corner. They followed Kiernan to a door made of some type of transparent material. Pasha was re-wiring the door in an attempt to open it. The Cylons inside did not seem to notice the activity going on outside the door. Each mindlessly continued to perform whatever tasks they'd been assigned. Apollo was pleased to note that most of the Cylons inside seemed to be armed only with their ceremonial swords. He could not see any laser weapons and smiled, knowing this would be a short battle. "Forget the wiring, just blast the door down," Apollo said. He removed the pack from his back and opened it, taking out a small solonite explosive. Fastening it to the door, he activated the timer. Everyone backed out of the way. The charge went off, destroying the doorway and part of the wall as well. As they stepped through the door into the control room, they were already firing at the nearest of the Cylons. Without any warning, the lights blinked out, plunging them all into darkness. Aiming by the sound and lights emitting from the Cylons' helmets, they made quick work of the few Centurions in the control room and an eerie silence descended on the darkened room. Activating their glowsticks, they began setting explosive charges that they would detonate from the shuttle. A slight scraping noise behind Apollo startled him, triggering an instinctive reaction to feint to the side and duck his head. He turned, reaching for his laser, when a solid weight hit into his side. His glowstick dropped to the floor, but not before he glimpsed a silver flash near his throat. A knife? Part of a broken control? One of the ceremonial swords? The heavier weight threw him off-balance and he allowed himself to fall, rolling on top of his assailant. It was a human, shorter and heavier than he was but the glowstick was too far away to shed sufficient light on the face of the person beneath him. The knife, visible now by reflecting the dim gleam of the several glowsticks within the room, again flashed near Apollo's face and he threw up his left arm to protect himself. The sharp blade cut deeply and Apollo felt the blood start to flow freely down his arm, but now he at least knew which of his opponent's hands wielded the knife. He pinned the man's wrist down with his own injured arm, hoping he could stay out of the way of the knife long enough to subdue his assailant. As Apollo fought, part of his brain was busy trying to discern the identity of this human that was trying to kill him. He had seen no persons other than Lissanne and Rantek in the cell block, had met none at any other time he had been in the base. Could this man struggling in mortal combat be a traitorous warrior? Apollo hated even the thought of that very real possibility, and continued the fracas in silence, unwilling to bring others into the fray. Reaching with his right hand for the laser on his left leg, he found he could not draw it entirely free of his holster and maintain his meager hold on the man beneath him. The pistol grip slipped from his fingertips and the laser fell to the floor. Hearing the noise, the man reached toward the sound to retrieve Apollo's pistol for himself, and with the sudden lunge managed to break free of Apollo's weakening grip. With desperate action, Apollo kicked out, connected with the laser, shoving it across the floor and out of the reach of both of them. The commotion of the struggle attracted the attention of the other warriors, but they dared not fire their lasers without the immense probability of hitting Apollo, too. The extra motion of kicking the laser out of reach put Apollo off-balance for a small moment, but that was enough time for the unknown man to press the advantage and break completely free of Apollo's grasp. He rose, breathing heavily, to his knees. Apollo rolled over before coming to his own knees, turning to meet the next rush. Suddenly the building lights flickered on, then off, then came on at less than half power, bathing the room in an unearthly light. With a semblance of vision restored, twin beams of light came from two pistols, meeting as they connected with the man. He fell to the floor, stunned or dead, Apollo could not tell which. Everything had happened so quickly, Apollo had only been able to ascertain this assailant was not one of the warriors in his task force, which relieved his mind as he looked to them for their answer to his question, "Were your pistols set on stun?" His voice was weak and breathless as he sank back down onto the floor, light-headed with the effort of the fighting and his loss of blood. Both warriors affirmed that the man was not dead, just stunned. Kiernan came to Apollo's side, returning his laser to him. Using the knife that had dropped to the ground during the fight, he cut Apollo's uniform free of his arm. He opened the medikit and began bandaging the wound. "Should have brought a full medikit," Kiernan muttered under his breath. Apollo grimaced, his lips tightly compressed in an effort to control his reaction to the pain. "You weren't expecting anything other than laser wounds. Don't worry about it. At least you brought a bandage." His smile was grim as Kiernan worked on. "The charges are all set, Captain," Pasha's voice called out through the semi-darkness. "Good," Apollo acknowledged, "then we're nearly ready to go." Kiernan finished and put away the medikit, remarking, "It was a pretty clean cut, Sir; the knife was very sharp. If I had better equipment, it would be a better patching job." "You did a great job. Thanks." Apollo rose to his feet somewhat unsteadily. He stepped through what looked like an awful lot of blood to the side of the man still lying where he'd fallen. Carefully Apollo rolled him over and knelt close enough to see his face clearly, the other warriors close beside him. Apollo drew in his breath sharply at the flabby face revealed in the dim light. "Baltar." He said the word quietly. "I'd wondered where he'd gotten to." "Now you know," Pasha said simply. "He'll be unconscious for quite awhile," Grayson said. "You don't recover from two stun beams in just a few moments. Do you know him well, Sir?" Apollo nodded and rose to his feet, a deep frown marring his features. "He's an escapee from a Colonial prison and a traitor to the human race." Bitterness tingeing his voice, he added softly, "He works for the Cylon Empire." "Add to that attempted murder," Kiernan put in. "We ought to kill him right now." "No," Apollo countered. "Our duty is to bring him in for trial. Again. If we killed him, we'd be no better than he is." Choosing the largest of their group, he continued, "Grayson, think you can get him to the hangar? Then we'll have help to get him into the shuttle." Grayson nodded and picked Baltar up, situating the limp form across his shoulders. They left the control room and headed back the way they'd come, looking for any sign of Cylons on the way. Apollo carried his laser awkwardly in his right hand, his left having been made nearly useless by Baltar's knife. Meeting no opposition, they became more tense with each step toward the landing bay. They reached their destination safely and the hangar team helped them drag Baltar's limp form up the steep slope of the broken door. They tied him securely and put him in the shuttle, strapping him into a seat. The team leader then reported to Apollo, "There's solonite attached to each ship and all the electronic equipment in the hangar. It's ready to blow, Sir." Apollo nodded. "Any casualties?" he asked as he sat in the pilot's seat and donned a headset. "None from our team." "Good. We may just pull this off, after all." A flurry of voices began outside the shuttle. "Go and see what all the commotion's about," Apollo spoke to the warrior beside him and the man hurried away. Looking out the shuttle's window, Apollo noticed that the sun was coming up. It was a beautiful sunrise the sky turning several shades of pink and orange. Several flat clouds nearest the horizon flashed a brilliant silver as the first rays from the sun hit them. 'Thursday morning,' Apollo thought, 'Glen's wife isn't expecting us until at least Saturday, so she's not worried about his disappearance yet. That'll give us time to get him back before he's missed.' Lissanne came limping into the shuttle. "Captain, we got the power supply and all the main supports in the room are ready to blow. It was a hard fight in; we lost Josh and Waimena. Gradan is injured worse than I am. We may lose him, too." Apollo nodded. "Thanks for the report. Sit down and get off that leg." She nodded and sat near the still-unconscious Baltar, giving him no clear look as she gingerly eased herself into a comfortable position. "Feels good to sit," she commented to Apollo. "Any news from the computer crews?" Apollo shook his head, then the shuttle began filling with Warriors, jubilant at their accomplishments of the night. A voice came booming from the back of the shuttle. "Computer Teams A and B accounted for. No casualties beyond a sprained ankle and all our charges are set." "Good job," Apollo called back. "Where's our pilot?" Lissanne replied, "Josh was our pilot." She hesitated a moment, then continued. "I'll fly it if you don't want to." Apollo moved out of the pilot's seat and held up his arm with a wry smile. Blood was already seeping through the bandage. "I can't fly anything right now." She nodded, her face paling somewhat. As Lissanne moved forward to take her place in the left front seat, a crackle came over his headset followed by Jenna's voice. "Shuttle Two to Ground Team One." Apollo grinned at her professionalism and said, "Go ahead, Jenna." Her voice continued, "Our charges are set and we're ready to go. We rescued five prisoners, including Rantek. He's been badly burned, but I think he'll be all right." Apollo surprised at Jenna's good news of Rantek, exchanged smiles with Lissanne as he answered Jenna with a command. "Launch when ready, Shuttle two. We'll follow you up." Lissanne began activating the shuttle's systems and announced to the empty air, "Strap in, we're launching in 20 microns."Apollo quickly took the copilot's seat and found he couldn't work the buckles with one hand. He braced himself for the take-off, then watched as, without a word, Lissanne unstrapped, stepped to his side and snapped his buckles shut.She grinned at him as she quietly said, "You can't afford any more injuries, Captain, and I don't want to get stuck filling out the ton of paper work as to why my copilot wasn't buckled in at take-off!" Apollo returned her cheeky smile and gave her a quiet thanks as she restrapped her own safety harness and turned back to her controls. They took off into a beautiful golden sunrise and Apollo realized he'd been up since before dawn yesterday. He checked the chronometer set in the instrument panel against his own and reflected that the difference between the ship's time and the local time his body was attuned to would work out to his advantage. They should arrive on the Charys just as the night cycle began, giving him plenty of time to catch up on his sleep following his stop by the Life Station for care to his arm. After he reported in to Commander Tyson, of course, he cynically reminded himself. He chuckled aloud. "What's so funny?" Lissanne queried, her face clearly showing a baffled expression as Apollo's mouth smiled wide. "Oh, not a lot. I'm just thinking of the pretty picture I'm going to make reporting to your Commander Tyson with my uniform in tatters, one sleeve flapping, dirt all over me and dripping blood from my bandage." She grinned. "He did say "immediately", though, didn't he?" Her eyes began to sparkle with impish delight at the picture forming in her mind and she giggled. "Oh, Captain, it is going to be hilarious! He detests disorder, dirt and surprises! I wish I could be with you when you give your report! The look on his face would be worth a yahren's wages!" Apollo's response was his smile, his twinkling eyes and an affirmative nod before turning his attention back to the scanner screens in front of him. Lissanne proved to be an excellent shuttle pilot with a smooth take-off and steep assent through the atmosphere, and the flight back to the Charys was placid and unexceptional. Halfway out of the atmosphere, Apollo activated the radio detonators and they were rewarded with a clear view of the large explosion in the desert area below them. Now that the warriors were gone from the planet's surface and there was no more evidence of the Cylon base, it was of little concern whether the natives below came to investigate the explosions they'd heard that night or not. Apollo drew a deep breath of relief. The only 'loose end', as it were, would be getting Glen back to the surface. The area was far enough away from the destroyed Cylon base, there should be little notice of the "delivery". In space once again, Apollo radioed ahead to have a formal security team waiting for Baltar, giving enough details to advise them of the seriousness and importance of the prisoner they were conveying to the Battlestar. That duty completed, he sat back in his seat, content to watch the control panels and Lissanne's competent handling of the shuttle. A Warrior appeared at Apollo's side and he looked up, sitting forward a bit and turning his face to the Warrior. "Sir," the Warrior spoke quietly. "Gradan didn't make it. I'm sorry." Apollo grimaced. "Thank you." The Warrior returned to his seat and Apollo sat back in his chair deep in thought, assessing the cost in man-power of this mission as he awaited their arrival back on the Charys. CHAPTER SIXTEEN Apollo woke suddenly as someone very gently touched the shoulder above his wounded arm. Lissanne's voice was cheerful. "Wake up, Captain, I don't want you falling out of your seat on landing." The sparkles in her eyes danced as she looked at him, her smile wide and sunny. "Sorry, Lieutenant, I didn't mean to fall asleep." "No problem, Sir!" She turned her attention back to the flight panels facing her, her smile still in place. Apollo stretched a little and looked out the front window of the shuttle. They were on the final approach course and the Charys loomed large above them. To the right of their shuttle and slightly ahead of them, he could see the other shuttle lined up for a landing in the starboard landing bay and felt good that things had gone so well. Baltar groaned then and moved slightly. Apollo turned in his seat and observed the man, noting the pain on his face. Understanding Baltar well, Apollo knew the most effective way to cause him supreme anguish was to treat the episode as lightly as possible, almost as insignificant. Baltar got much satisfaction from causing pain; therefore Apollo was not going to feed Baltar's baser needs. He smiled as big as he could, then taking a deep breath, Apollo addressed him brightly. "Good morning, Baltar, did you have a nice nap?" His dimples were very pronounced as he awaited Baltar's words. Baltar, being the host to a very large headache for which he could thank two laser stun-bolts, ignored Apollo's comment and growled, "Where are we?" Apollo, his voice still loud and sunny, replied, "We are about to land on the Battlestar Charys. And just to bring you up to date, Baltar, you are under arrest for jail breaking, probable theft of a spacecraft and attempted murder. There's a security team waiting for you, then you'll probably be transported to Terradia for trial. Any questions?" His grin was still prevalent, as was the light note in his voice. He determined yet again to keep his personal anger at losing Warriors on this last trip from showing through. Throughout the entire speech, Baltar sat silently, his rage growing. When he spoke, he was nearly screaming, "I'll get you for this, Apollo!" His voice dropped to a whisper, the anger still very evident. "You'll pay; someday you'll pay for all of it! You and your father, both! The two of you have brought disaster upon me and I'll not forget it! Your little prison won't stop me. I'll get out of there and come back for you. Count on it, Apollo!" The words were spat out with all the venom Baltar could muster. Anger and hatred emanated from Baltar in waves which could almost be seen, they were so intense. It was all Apollo could do to keep his smile in place and his voice jaunty as he said, "You must forgive me if I don't hold my breath while I wait." Apollo turned back to the front as they landed, then waited while the Warriors exited. He turned Baltar over to the black-clad security team, restating his advice to place him in solitary confinement under heavy guard. As he watched their retreat from the landing bay, Apollo suppressed a shudder from having been in the presence of a truly evil man. Turning, he too left the area, a frown on his face at what was coming next and wondered why Tyson seemed to dislike him so intensely. Walking quickly, he headed for the Commander's office to make his report. He was surprised to find that the door opened at his approach. As he stepped in to the office, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. There were two Commanders sitting near the desk. They both looked up at his entrance, then he realized the second Commander was his father. Apollo smiled at Adama, then addressed himself to Commander Tyson. "Sir, the away team is back. We lost two people on the surface, and one more on the journey home. We succeeded in destroying the base. We rescued five warriors and took one prisoner; a man named Baltar who's wanted by the Council for several crimes. We can add attempted murder to the long list. He's on his way to the prison block under heavy guard." "Yes, I do know of it, Captain, as it happens. Who did we lose?" "Their names were Josh, Waimena and Gradan. I'm sorry, I don't know their ranks." Apollo waited while Tyson accepted the information given and made a note on the computer in front of him. When nothing more seemed forthcoming, Apollo continued. "With your permission, Sir, I need to go to Life Station and then get some sleep." Commander Tyson nodded, "Permission granted, Captain." Apollo, with another smile for his father, turned to leave the room. Commander Adama spoke, "Wait a moment, Apollo, I'll walk you to Life Station." "Thank you, Commander. I'll wait outside." Moments later, Adama left Commander Tyson's office and they fell in step beside each other. "Where's the Galactica? I didn't see her when we were landing." Apollo looked at his father with a puzzled expression. "Not far, in the capable hands of Colonel Tigh. What happened to your arm?" Deep concern marked his voice. Apollo shrugged. "I got into a fight with Baltar. I'll be all right as soon as I get it patched up. How did you get here and what brought you?" Adama, not satisfied with Apollo's brief answer regarding his injury, was about to ask for more information, but the set of his son's jaw and the abrupt change of subject told him Apollo would not talk about it further. He decided to let it go and answer the question put to him. "I got a message from the council, asking me to see if I could help show Commander Tyson how to run things a little more smoothly." His smile was wry. "He wasn't quite ready to take command when his grandfather died and left it to him. He apparently contacted Terradia for some help. The Galactica was the nearest ship, so here I am." "That might be very helpful," Apollo murmured, "if he's smart enough to accept your advice. How did you get here, then?" His voice echoed his curiosity. "Athena piloted my shuttle craft with Starbuck and Boomer as escorts. I believe they're bunking with the Orange Squadron." He paused a moment as they reached to door of Life Station. "There will be plenty of room in the shuttle when we return to the Galactica. You're welcome to ride with me if your assignment is completed." Apollo nodded. "All I need to do is send in my report to the Council, and I can do that from anywhere. I'll be sure to ride home with you." Apollo paused a moment in reflection. "You know, Father, Baltar could have stayed free if he hadn't been so intent on killing me. He had plenty of time to get clear of the base before we blew it." Adama nodded. "Revenge is seldom worth the time or the effort and generally never worth the consequences." Noting the tired lines around his son's eyes, he added, "I'll see you tomorrow when you're feeling better." He rested his hand on Apollo's shoulder with affection. Apollo nodded, patted his father's hand with his good hand, then slipped through the door into Life Station. Commander Adama turned and made his way thoughtfully back up the hall to the office he'd left a few centons ago. Commander Tyson certainly needed help, of that there was no question. At least he'd had the sense to ask for it, which was something in his favor. Adama was grateful the Galactica was staffed with good warriors like Apollo, who knew their job and performed it well. He felt lucky to have such a fine group under his command. From what he had seen here, they had good people as well, but needed a little more experience and understanding in the command position to bring the best out in these young people. He hoped Tyson could learn much in the small amount of time that they had to spend together. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Glen woke when the lights turned on. Apparently this was how they kept track of night and day while in space, by dimming and brightening the lights. He guessed the lights were in sync with their home planet, wherever that was. Obviously a ship of this size was intended for cruises of considerable duration. He swung out of the bed, reflecting that it was more comfortable than it had at first appeared to be. Several people groaned and rolled out of bed, apparently heading either for a shower or breakfast. Since Glen could use both, he thought about following them. He glanced toward Ensign Cree's bunk. Cree had rolled over and gone back to sleep, his head now under his pillow to shut out the lights. Glen fell into step with a warrior he'd met yesterday, who was visiting the Charys with some dignitary or other. In some ways, the lad reminded him of Mike Jeffries, which was a comforting thought, somehow. He now addressed the young man. "Starbuck, where does a man get breakfast and a shower around here?" "Follow me if you want a turbo wash first. Breakfast will be found wherever it was you had dinner last night." He smiled at the older man. "I'll need help finding it. I get terribly turned around when I don't have the sun to help me," Glen admitted, a wry smile on his face. Starbuck grinned, pointing at the floor. "The sun? A mere 92 1/4 million miles that way, but I know that's no help. I'll take you for breakfast right after a turbo wash. Where's Cree?" Glen smiled. "Still asleep." "Aw, that guy could sleep through anything!" A derisive snort accompanied the comment. "You seem to know him well. Have you served together before?" "Served together?" Starbuck laughed. "Apollo and I supervised his training." He shook his head which, combined with the look on his young face, spoke volumes. "I see. Speaking of Apollo, is he back yet, do you know?" His voice was carefully controlled. He didn't want to let on how deeply he was concerned about the success of the mission. Especially now that he had seen and fought Cylons! "I haven't seen him, but that doesn't mean anything. They'd probably be back by now if everything went according to plan, but... the Cylons have a nasty habit of upsetting plans. We can find out in a couple of centons. Okay?" He watched Glen's face for his reactions. Glen nodded and softly sighed. He was more worried about Jenna than he cared to admit. He should have gone with her. How could he have just let her go off like that? 'Steady,' he reminded himself. 'First of all, you were not allowed to go. Secondly, you did not "let her go"; she never consulted you about it. Thirdly, you must remember she's not your "niece" any longer, nor is she a poor helpless girl. She is a trained warrior... an officer in the military -- air force, if you will -- and even if she went alone, which she didn't, she can take care of herself!' The self-lecture over, Glen felt just slightly better. Unhappily, he realized he would have to let go of her; her care was no longer his responsibility. Starbuck showed him how to work the 'shower' and left him to his own devices while he took his own cleansing turbo wash. Half an hour later, Glen felt much refreshed, even though he had to put on his dirty clothing again. Starbuck looked at his creased jeans and badly rumpled shirt and declared they'd have to find him something to wear while they got his clothes cleaned. Looking him over again, Starbuck announced, "Before breakfast. Come on." He reversed directions and disappeared down a side hall. Glen hurried to follow him. "Where are we going?" "Cadet quarters," Starbuck said. "They usually have cleaning facilities and spare uniforms hanging around and it's close by." "I thought this wasn't your ship." Surprise tinged his voice. "It isn't." Supreme confidence marked Starbuck's voice. "Then how do you know where we're going?" Glen persisted. "Battlestars come in several different sizes, but they all have the same basic layout. That way, no one gets too far lost. Some things float, officer's club, rejuvenation, VIP quarters and the like, but the basic things stay put." His smile softened the abrupt answer. "What's 'basic'?" Glen pursued. "Squadron quarters, hangar bays, bridge and life center. Ah... here we are." Starbuck stopped in front of a door. He pressed the plate just to the left of the door, which slid open with a whoosh. They stepped through the door and it closed softly behind them. The room looked very much like the one where he'd spent the night. There were several stacks of bunks, four high. Near each set was locker space for the occupants. The room's central area contained several tables and chairs. The difference lay in that this room appeared deserted; unlived in, though where he got that impression, Glen wasn't sure. There wasn't even any dust anywhere. "You train your cadets in space?""They go to school planetside, then the four highest-scoring squadrons spend the last yahren of training on a battlestar. It gives them some actual experience. Ah, here we go." Starbuck walked to another door and opened it, revealing a small room or a very large closet, full of uniforms. "Find one your size." Glen hesitated. "I haven't got the right to wear one of those uniforms." "True," Starbuck agreed, "but it'll only be for a centar or so until your own clothes are cleaned. Nobody will mind. They probably won't even notice!" He clapped Glen on the shoulder, his grin infectious. "Well, if you're sure..." Glen still hesitated. "Of course I'm sure. Go for it. And hurry. I'm hungry!" Glen stepped into the roomy closet and began looking for something his size. * * * * * Feeling very ill at ease and conspicuous in the unfamiliar clothing, Glen followed Starbuck down the passage. No one challenged them or even gave them a second glance and by the time they reached the dining area, he was feeling much better. They got their meals and sat down by several other warriors Glen had met the evening before, but whose names he could not recall. As they were finishing their food, an aide stepped over to their table and tapped Starbuck's shoulder. Starbuck looked up and the aide spoke, sympathy in his eyes. "Commander Tyson would like to see you right away, Lieutenant. He's at the table over there." The aide gestured, waiting for Starbuck to follow him. Starbuck grinned at the people seated near him. "Back in a flash!" He stood and followed the aide over to a table near the corner where Commander Tyson sat in conference with Adama. "You wanted to see me, Commander?" Starbuck spoke in a polite voice. Tyson glared at him. "I certainly did, Lieutenant. Would you tell me exactly why that Sol Three civilian with you is in the uniform of a Colonial Warrior?" Anger spat the words out of Tyson's mouth in a hard, clipped manner. Starbuck winced. "Well, not planning on an overnight stay, he didn't bring any spare clothes with him into space and his were rather rumpled, so I suggested he get them cleaned. I thought it would be nice if he wore something else while his clothes were being renovated and the spare uniform is all I could come up with. Sir." The 'Sir' came as a very definite afterthought. Tyson verbally attacked Starbuck. "That uniform is something that must be earned! It's a symbol of excellence throughout the galaxy and grants respect to the wearer in every human colony!" Tyson fumed. He drew a deep breath to continue, but stopped, puzzled, at Adama's light touch on his arm. "Starbuck, please see he returns to his own clothing as soon as possible, will you?" Adama's voice was soft, Tyson noted, and though his words were phrased as a request, he knew there was no doubt in either Adama's or Starbuck's mind that it was an order. Starbuck nodded and left the room, collecting Glen on the way. Tyson looked at Adama with a dawning respect. Adama smiled slightly, gesturing in the direction Starbuck had taken. "All it takes is a little practice. You were correct in principle, but your approach to the problem was not as diplomatic as it could have been." "You don't have time for tact or diplomacy in the middle of a battle." Tyson spoke with repressed frustration. "No, but if you'll take the time when you're not in battle, you'll find you can get along without it when time gets short and few will be angry or rebellious." Tyson thought for a moment, then stood. "Why don't we continue this conversation in my office, Commander?" Adama smiled in approval. "See? You're learning already." He stood and the two men moved off, leaving the room together.* * * * * Something soft hit Apollo's back and bounced off. Immediately waking, he rolled over and grabbed, but the pillow already lay on the floor. Jenna giggled from across the room. "Wake up, sleepyhead! You've already missed breakfast!" He slid from the bunk, a smile on this face, straightened his uniform tunic and began pulling on his boots, wincing at the strain on his left arm as he did so. "You'd better find your uncle and see how he's taking all of this." Apollo waved his good arm in a general arc around him. "Xavier's not on board." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "You know I mean Glen." He picked the pillow up from the floor and threw it back at her. She caught it with the ease of someone who's been in many pillow fights, and grinned. "I know you did. Just thought I'd give you a hard time. How's your arm?" She watched his face closely. "Fine." He pasted a smile on his face. "Liar." She shook her head at him in mock despair. He grinned, this time a genuine one. "Stiff and sore, but it'll be fine. Satisfied?" Mild exasperation filled his voice. She smiled, nodded and bounced out of the room. Apollo finished donning his boots and followed. Upon reaching the hall, however, Jenna was nowhere in sight. Not sure of what he was going to do that day, he decided to go to the officer's club first, in search of food. While he was eating, Jenna stopped by his table. "Apollo, Commander Tyson says I'm to run Glen home and pick up any personal effects I need. He also said I could pick anyone who wasn't busy to fly with me. Since I don't have an assigned wingmate yet, you wanna come?" "Sure, and thanks. I hate not being busy." He stood and they left the dining room together, talking as they walked. "I sort of figured that. We're going in this new recon viper they've got. Two seats apiece. You ever fly one of those?" Her face and voice betrayed her eagerness. "No, but I'd heard they were coming out. Supposedly they handle exactly the same, but with all that extra mass I don't see how it could have the same characteristics, especially in atmosphere." Jenna grinned. "Agreed. It'll be fun to try it and see, though they're supposed to have more power to compensate for that extra mass, too." "Where's Glen?" Apollo asked, smiling at her enthusiasm for the new viper model. "Waiting in the landing bay while I dug you up." "Dug me up? Jenna, you're going to have to start speaking properly again. 'Wanna come?' 'dug me up'; both sloppy idioms from your long stay on Earth. Nobody will be able to understand you, girl!" His smile was wide, his dimples deeply defined in his handsome face. "Tough! They'll just have to get used to it," she replied saucily. "Jenna, you're impossible!" Apollo laughed as they left the Officer's Club. "Life's more fun that way, Apollo!" Minutes later they entered the bay and walked over to their ships. Inspecting his, Apollo found it was longer than the viper he was used to flying but didn't appear much bigger other than the added length. Glen left Jenna's craft and approached Apollo's craft. Apollo looked up as Glen came around the side of the viper and the men shook hands in greeting. Apollo grinned at Glen. "Ready to go?" He watched Glen's features with interest. Glen, his eyes and face reflecting his excitement, spoke with an answering grin. "Not really, I'd love to stay longer, but I am definitely ready to fly in one of those!" He pointed to the new viper behind him. Apollo laughed and clapped Glen on the shoulder. Apollo started up the stairs to his ship as Glen joined Jenna at the other viper. The ground crew chief handed Apollo a helmet. Accepting it, he settled into the seat and put it on, scanning the cockpit for anything new or radically unfamiliar. Finding nothing, he closed both his canopies and radioed to Jenna he was ready to go, then she closed her canopies and radioed the bridge officer. The controller on the bridge fed their on-board computers the course information they'd need to find the planet and return, then the familiar words came over his headset. "Course systems transferring control to probe craft. Launch when ready." He hit the button for his turbos and felt the acceleration press him against the seat. Moments later, Glen's breathless voice came over the intercom. "Launch is right! I feel like a missile. Is that a normal take-off?" Jenna answered, "Fairly normal. These have a bit more kick than a regular viper. They were right about the extra power." Apollo said softly, "Glen, look up." A sharp intake of breath was heard, then a quiet, "How beautiful. The stars go on forever. They look so peaceful!" They flew side by side in tight formation for a short time, then Apollo backed off some as Jenna allowed Glen to take the controls. He proved to be a quick learner and was soon flying steadily enough that Apollo moved in close again. The apparent ease with which he'd picked it up, Apollo attributed to the excellence he'd shown in flying them out to the desert on Earth. Close to that same Earth, Jenna retrieved the controls and they soon landed near the spot they'd set up camp and found it virtually undisturbed, except that the tents had collapsed. No doubt the stakes and lines had loosened when the Cylon base exploded. Apollo and Jenna changed into civilian clothing from their packs, then moving quickly, they packed the camp gear up. Apollo tossed his pack in the rear seat of his viper and they secured both vipers. Climbing into Glen's Jeep, they returned to the airport. Glen called Hannah to let her know they were on their way, while Apollo stowed Glen's gear in the baggage compartment and Jenna inspected the plane for take-off. Glen came up to the plane. "Ready to go?" Jenna nodded. Apollo said, "I've got an idea. Why don't Jenna and I fly our vipers back to your ranch? We can stay below radar easily and then you won't have to bring us all the way back here after Jenna gets her belongings." Glen shook his head. "Two reasons. First, although I promised Commander Tyson I'd keep my mouth shut about where I've been and what I've seen, if Hannah should see your vipers, there's no way it would stay a secret." He smiled at Apollo apologetically. "Secondly, radar coverage goes all the way to the surface over most of our route and you'd be discovered. So, hop in my little bucket and we'll be on our way." Bowing to Glen's superior knowledge of the planet and the people thereon, Apollo climbed into the plane, followed by Jenna and Glen, who invited Apollo to sit in front with him. Shortly after take-off, he turned the controls over to Apollo, explaining briefly how to read the instruments to keep them on course. Apollo flew with ease, reflecting that there wasn't too much difference between this craft and the one he'd done much of his basic flight training in. He found it fun and relaxing to be flying something so basic and simple again, and said so to Glen. Glen was teasingly indignant as he explained to Apollo that not only was his craft considered complex; one must have a special license to fly it because it had two engines. Then he laughed because of the sophisticated air craft he'd seen and flown in since he left Earth several days ago, realizing the disparity of what he'd just explained to Apollo. Apollo and Jenna joined in his laughter. Arriving at their destination still contesting in good fun the differences of their respective ships, Glen took the controls for the landing. They tied down the plane and drove the waiting truck to Glen's ranch. Arriving late in the evening, they found that their phone call before take-off had not been in vain. Hannah was expecting them and had a hot meal waiting. Over dinner, they discussed the supposed reason for their trip. Glen described in great detail the aircraft that had crashed, bringing Jenna to them. Apollo wondered where he got such an exact mental picture that he could describe the pretended crash in so vivid detail. Jenna added that her uncle Xavier was moving soon and she needed to leave in the morning in order to go with him. "But you will write, won't you, Jenna?" a teary-eyed Hannah asked, sorry to be losing her "niece". "Well, I'm a terrible letter-writer," Jenna hedged. "I promise I'll drop in if I'm ever in the neighborhood again. My uncle does a lot of traveling I'm told, and it's hard for his mail to keep up with him, anyway." Apollo quietly excused himself from the table in order to give them some time alone. He went upstairs to the room he'd used before and went to bed, sleeping deeply. * * * * * The next morning they arose early and ate breakfast. Jenna had packed her few items into a small carry-sack, which she put in the car before turning to give Hannah a hug goodbye. Hannah, her eyes full of tears, was in better control this morning, though still trying to put a brave face on losing Jenna, whom she had grown to love deeply. She turned to Apollo, very sternly saying, "Now you take good care of her!" Apollo smiled and gently touched her arm. "Don't worry about her, she'll be fine. I promise." Hannah nodded and hugged Jenna again, then turned and hurried into the house before her tears got the best of her. The others got in the car and retraced their route. They stopped in the city long enough for Apollo to retrieve Rantek's personal belongings from his apartment. Though another scout was to be assigned, Rantek would be on medical leave for quite a while. The plane ride was tedious and seemed to take forever, as no one was inclined to light conversation. It was early afternoon when they arrived at the campsite and Glen needed to be getting on his way home again. He had a group to guide on another hunting trip tomorrow and there was much he had to do to be ready for them. Glen hugged Jenna briefly and said in a gruff voice, "Take care of yourself." Jenna nodded. "You, too. I'll miss you both, terribly..." Her voice choked off in a whisper and she turned and ran to her viper, inspecting it for take-off. Apollo shook hands with Glen. "It has been a pleasure knowing you, Sir. Thank you for all you have done... for Jenna, for me and for your planet." Glen smiled a little. "I'll never forget you, Apollo. It's been quite an adventure, knowing you. And thank you and your people for all they are doing for Earth; risking lives to keep us safe. The same goes for you as for Jenna. If you're ever in the neighborhood, you're more than welcome in our home, and I mean that sincerely." "Thank you, Sir. If I get the chance, I'll do that." They broke apart and with a final smile at Glen, Apollo turned and walked to his own ship, gave it a quick inspection and climbed in. "Ready to go?" he asked Jenna over the intercom. "As ready as I'll ever be, Captain. Let's go!" Her voice was tight, drawn. They started their engines and took off. Glen watched until he could no longer see them, then climbed in his jeep and started his journey home. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Shortly before their arrival at the Charys, Apollo broke the silence that had reigned since take-off. "Why so quiet? You're not regretting your decision, are you?" Concern was heard in Apollo's voice. "Not really. I know I'm where I belong." Her voice was slightly shaky, as if she were trying very hard not to cry. "I'm just missing them already. I've been with them on a daily basis for 5 years now... that's roughly 12 1/2 yahrens, Apollo. It's a little tough to let go so suddenly. "Don't get me wrong, though, because I'm counting my blessings on being back with my own people once again. It's a dream and a prayer come true for me. I thought I'd never set eyes on a battlestar for the rest of my days. Now, suddenly, thanks to you, I'm back where I really belong; back at work at the job I love. They don't make words in any language to express the thanks I want to give you, Apollo." Her voice was soft, the deep feelings mirrored in her tones. "You're welcome, but no thanks are necessary. We helped each other, so I can thank you, too. Now let's forget that and get on with new things! How are you going to get back to the Octavia?" His own voice was a bit husky and Jenna knew he was as deeply touched as she was. She smiled to herself, reminding that same self that guys didn't like to show their tenderness, so she allowed the change of topics and her voice firmed. "Commander Tyson said I was to serve on the Charys until we finish this tour, then when all the battlestars are at Terradia to pick up their graduating cadets, I'll scoot back to my ship." "Sounds good. I'm going home when my father finishes his business on the Charys and leaves." His voice sounded more natural now. "You mean when he's taught Tyson enough about commanding to avoid a mutiny?" There was a hint of laughter in Jenna's voice. Apollo grinned and muttered something under his breath. "What was that?" she questioned. "Let's not discuss this on an official channel, Lieutenant." His tone was firm. "Yes, Sir." Although a teasing smile was evident in her voice, she also knew he was only being prudent. Moments later, Jenna contacted the Charys for landing instructions and they were soon carefully guiding their ships into the landing bay. Apollo climbed out of his borrowed viper and pulled his back pack and uniform from the rear seat. He headed over to the Galactica's shuttle, its bright orange markings standing out among the blue stripes of the Charys' ships. As he strode toward the shuttle with the intention of stowing his pack aboard, the Commander's aide stopped him. "Commander Tyson would like to see you in his office at your earliest convenience." His manner was very cool. Apollo nodded and moved on, tossing over his shoulder, "I'll be there right away." Quickly he put his pack away and, taking advantage of the privacy of the shuttle, spent a precious moment changing back into his uniform, then hurried towards the Commander's office, satisfied with his neat, now-professional appearance. He didn't want to give Tyson any reason for reprimand. As he approached the door, it slid open and he entered, wondering somewhat apprehensively what mood the Commander was in today. "Captain, come in," Tyson's voice was warm as he stood in greeting. "Please have a seat." He gestured toward a chair near his desk. Blinking in surprise at the change of attitude, Apollo stood in front of the chair, sitting a moment after the Commander resumed his own seat. "Captain..." Tyson looked at his fingertips nervously tapping the desktop. He seemed to be searching for words. Apollo quietly waited, wondering what was forthcoming. The Commander cleared his throat after a few moments, took a deep breath, then looked squarely at Apollo and began again. "Apollo, I owe you an apology. Due to several different factors, I acted quite childishly at our first interview here. I hope there are no hard feelings?" Apollo shifted uncomfortably in the chair. True, he'd been slightly harsh, but absolutely within his rights as the commanding officer of the ship. "Of course not, Sir." "I'm glad." Tyson stood and moved around the desk. "Thank you." He offered his hand and Apollo, standing, shook it. Tyson went on. "Your father's shuttle is being prepared now; he'll be launching in about a centar. Do you plan on leaving with him?" There was a tone in his voice Apollo had never heard before and was unsure of how to read it. "Yes. If you'll excuse me, Sir, I have some good-byes to say first." He kept his voice polite but firm. "Before I answer that, please brief me on the excursion to return the Sol Thr... Lt. Jenna's friend to the surface." Again Apollo was surprised at the warmer, less formal manner of the Commander. He immediately gave a concise, verbal report, then thanked Tyson for the privilege of flying the new ships. For a few moments they traded opinions comparing the several models of vipers they had flown. Then Apollo requested once again to be excused. Tyson looked squarely at Apollo, then said, "You're adamant about joining your father?" Apollo nodded. Tyson sighed, then said, "Too bad. I could use a man like you." He looked frankly at Apollo, admiration and esteem showing in his gaze. Although Apollo said nothing, his eyebrows raised in his surprise. The exchanged long, appraising looks, then Tyson sighed again. "You are excused, Captain Apollo." Apollo moved towards the door, then paused and turned back to Tyson. "Sir, you have a good bunch of people. If you'll use them wisely, they'll do you proud. They're good people to have next to you in a fight." Tyson looked up in surprise at the thought. "You know, Captain, you're right. Why didn't I notice that before?" Apollo smiled. "Perhaps you were too apprehensive or too busy looking for what was wrong to see what was right." He turned and left the office, almost afraid of being called back for insubordination for being that forward. It wasn't often anyone could speak to a Commander on that level and have it accepted in the manner it was meant. But what he'd said was true and he would not take back the praise Tyson's crew deserved. He dropped off Rantek's personal belongings at the life station, then spent most of his centar trying to locate Jenna and Lissanne and finally gave up in frustration, heading for the hangar deck so he wouldn't miss his ride home. Just as he reached the shuttle, he heard someone call his name. He turned around to see Jenna and Lissanne hurrying toward him across the hangar floor. "Don't you dare go without saying goodbye!" Lissanne pouted. "We've been looking all over for you! Where have you been?" "Looking for you," Apollo grinned, "so I could say goodbye!" Smiling wide, Lissanne said, "I'll be seeing you soon enough when my transfer comes through, so I'm not going to say goodbye." "If your transfer comes through," Apollo amended. "You ought to think seriously about staying on board. Commander Tyson needs good warriors." Noting the sarcastic look she gave him, he added, "At least give him another chance. He's still trying to learn his job. But the fact that he's still trying counts for a lot in my book. And, he's learning." Thoughts of their last interview were in Apollo's mind. "He is trying," Lissanne agreed with a giggle. "Very trying!" Shaking Apollo's hand in a military grasp, right hands gripping each other's forearm and left hands holding the other's arm just above the elbow, Lissanne's eyes were suspiciously bright with unshed tears. Giving a final squeeze, she hurriedly turned to leave. "See you around." Her voice was husky as her final words were flung over her shoulder as she quickly left the landing bay. "Bye," Apollo called to her rapidly retreating figure, then turned to Jenna and he smiled tenderly. "You take care of yourself. Promise?" She nodded. "I'm not usually as injury prone as you've seen me being. It's been an interesting week and a half." Her own smile was tentative. "Yes, well, next time you go swimming with a horse, don't invite me, all right?" The teasing note in Apollo's voice served to lighten the atmosphere surrounding them and she responded in like manner, her voice a saucy flourish of sound, her eyes sparkling, "But then who'd be there to pull me out? You're right handy to have around," she teased, then her face adopted a more serious expression. "Apollo, if there's ever anything I can do for you, you just yell. I'll be there." He nodded. "I will, the same goes for you." "Hey, Apollo!" Starbuck's voice carried across the hangar. "Come on, we're leaving!" Apollo offered Jenna his hand. "I've got to go." She nodded. Apollo reached out to clasp her arm, as he had with Lissanne, but Jenna suddenly gave him a tight hug. As they parted she looked up, her large eyes bright with unshed tears. "I'll miss you, Captain Apollo," her voice came out only as a whisper, but he heard her. He smiled down at her. "I'll miss you, too." He turned and hurried over to the shuttle. Nearly as soon as he had the door latched, Athena threw the shuttle into motion and they left the landing bay to rendezvous with their viper escort and head for home. Jenna watched them launch, wishing her orders had taken her to the Galactica, and then she left the landing bay. She only had a little time to put away her personal effects and dig up several spare uniforms before she was scheduled to go on duty. There it was again, her terrible 'Earth idioms!' Apollo would have teased her about that one! Okay, she laughed to herself; she needed to 'find' several uniforms so she could begin her tour of duty. A smile marked her features as she strode purposefully down the long hallway ahead of her, head held high, a quiet grace marking her every step. Ah, duty again. How she had missed it while on Earth! It was going to be a wonderful day! The End