BLOOD TRAIL
A Galactica 1980/Babylon 5 crossover fanfic
by Paul Robison
Posted August 2007

Special Guest Stars:
1.  The Narns, Babylon 5 ( Changed to the Nomen, Battlestar Galactica)
2.  Ambassador G?Kar, Babylon 5 (Ambassador Kar, Nomen ambassador to the
Council of Twelve)
3.  Na?Toth, Babylon 5 (Toth, Kar?s attache)
4.  Londo Mollari, Babylon 5 ( Sire Mollary, of the Council of Twelve)
5.  Delenn, Babylon 5 (Siress Delenn)
6.  Lennier, Babylon 5  (Sire Lennier, junior member of the Council of
Twelve)

Spolier: Babylon 5, Book #3: ?Blood Oath? by John Vornholt.  Dell
Paperbacks, N.Y, N.Y, (c) 1995

Author's Note: I don't own these shows. They belong to Universal Studios
and Glen A. Larson and Warner Bros and J. Michael Straczynski. I just
wanted to bring them out and play with them, so please don?t sue me?


CHAPTER 1
THE UNTRACEABLE DATA CRYSTAL

     The data crystal was dark, like a smoky quartz, and Ambassador Kar
twisted it between his thick fingers.  He marveled at the way its subtle
facets could absorb and access data at speeds that rivaled the Nomen
mind. The best dark crystals were grown in the desert of the Mega Sun,
and this one had the look of top quality.  Something caught Kar?s eye,
and he furrowed his ridged forehead and squinted at the crystal?s
metallic connector.  That was odd. The date and microscopic identity
patterns had been removed by a laser beam, making the crystal all but
untraceable.  Who would want to send him an untraceable data crystal in
his regular mail pouch.
     Intrigued, the ambassador stood up and slipped the crystal into the
viewer on his wall.  A female Nomen appeared on the screen, and what a
female Nomen she was!  Young and slender, she was wearing a flowing gown
of bloodred material, and it was cinched with a belt and scabbard that
accentuated her curves.  Her hazelnut eyes gleamed with intensity and
arrested Kar to the spot.  He didn?t know what the young Nomen was going
to say on this recorded message, but she certainly had caught his
attention.
     ?Hello, Kar,? said the woman imperiously.  ?You recognize me, do you
not?  I am Mira, daughter of Rog.  I speak for my mother, Het, and my
brother, Kog. We are all that?s left of the family you destroyed.  Yes,
Kar, we are beaten, and our titles and belongings are gone.  Our father
is dead, his name disgraced, and his attempt to kill you from the grave
was a failure.  To our shame, every assassin has failed.?
     Kar swallowed hard and leaned closer.  He dreaded what was coming
next.
     Mira?s lovely face contorted into rage.  ?You think you are safe
within the Third Circle and the Battlestar Galactica.  You are wrong! 
The widow, the son, and the daughter of Rog have gone on a ?Blood Hunt?
against you!  No more will you face inept assassins....but the very 
family you destroyed!  The Prophets willing, by my own hands you will
die.  From this day forward, the purpose of our Blood Hunt is to kill
you.  Let this mark show my will.?
     With that, Mira pulled a short but vicious-looking sword from her
scabbard and pressed the blade to her head. At once, the blood streamed
from the wound and flowed down her delicate cheekbone to her neck and
shoulder, where it mingled with the identical color in her gown.
Involuntarily, Kar reached up and touched his own ridged forehead.
     The viewer blinked off, and he snatched the data crystal from the
viewer.  He half expected his tormentor to leap out of the closet with
her bloody knife.  No, she was not here at this moment, but she would be
here....someday.  If he didn?t do something  about Mira, daughter of Rog,
she would strike him down in the middle of dinner or smother him while he
slept.  Knowing that, he would never sleep again.
     Kar dashed to his terminal with the impulse of ordering her arrest. 
He stopped himself, realizing that he couldn?t bring the full weight of
his position down upon the family of Rog.  The ?Blood Hunt? was a
tradition that was central to the heart of the Nomen; if he squashed
them, it would only win them sympathy.  Even The Code would prevail
against him.  Worse yet, an action against Mira, Het, and Kog would bring
to light the whole unsavory business of his ascendancy to the Third
Circle, his treachery, and Rog?s disgrace.  He had let this wound fester
too long, and now the infection was about to spread----unless he took his
knife and cut it out.
     Kar sighed and slumped back into his chair, the stiff leather of his
waistcoat squeaking against the pelt covering the cushion.  He would have
to do something----already the family of Rog had made two serious
attempts on his life, and here was the daughter threatening more!  He
could count on protection from Captain Troy and his warriors for as long
as he remained on the Galactica.  But where did he go after his welcome
was worn out?  The Fleet was filled with humans and strangers of all
types, with a few non-human residents who?d joined Adama?s trek through
the stars along the way.   Earth was certainly no option, as it was
populated by a nearly archaic species. Under Adama?s orders, only
specially authorized personnel could land until the Colonial?s long-lost
sister planet was brought up to technological speed.  If Mira was as
determined as she sounded, she would find some way onto the Galactica and
would stalk him until her Blood Hunt was fulfilled.  Only death would
stop her.
     Therefore, thought Kar rationally, Mira would have to die.  Het and
Kog might listen to reason if that firebrand in the red dress was gone.
Whom could he ask to help him?  No self-respecting Nomen would take his
side against such a well-deserved Blood Hunt, and he couldn?t share his
secret with Colonials, or Earthmen.  If only he could kill Mira himself
and make it appear as if somebody else had done it.  Kar glanced round
his quarters, just to make certain that his foe wasn?t hiding behind the
curtains.  He remembered well the other attempts on his life, and how
both had nearly been successful.
     The first order of business was to put the daughter of Rog off the
scent, make sure she was not hunting him faster than he could hunt her. 
When she was at ease, he would strike.
     The ambassador activated the telecommunicator on his desk.  ?Good
morning, Toth.?
     ?Good morning, Ambassador,? his assistant answered crisply.
     Kar cleared his throat importantly.  ?A special dispatch has just
come in, and I must return to the Borella immediately.  I will pilot
myself in my personal transport.?
     He could imagine her puzzled face as she said, ?Ambassador, the
shuttle Shanavas is arriving tomorrow for a courtesy call.  They could
take you back to the Borella in half the time of your transport.?
     ?The Shanavas,? said Kar thoughtfully, ?and my old friend, Tok. 
That is tempting, but I prefer to pilot myself.  I need some time
alone...to think.  I will be leaving in four hours, and I will do my own
packing.  Cancel my appointments, make my apologies, and do whatever is
necessary.  If anybody asks, this is personal business.?
     ?Yes, Ambassador,? said Toth, not letting her surprise affect her
efficiency.
     ?Good morning, Toth.?  He deactivated the telecommunicator and sat
back in his chair.  He wished he could tell Toth his plans, but he knew
her feelings regarding the Blood Hunt.  Perhaps he could tell her when it
was all over, if he was victorious.

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

     Colonel Boomer shifted on the balls of his feet as he surveyed his
domain: the bridge, center of operations for the last surviving Colonial
battlestar.  His hair was cut shorter than usual today, and he felt
tense, though he hadn?t the faintest idea why.  The fifty-thousand
kilometers of space separating the Fleet from Earth were peaceful, even
though inter-fleet traffic had fallen somewhat behind schedule.  The only
one complaining was Ambassador Kar, which figured.
     ?Colonel, I have Captain Vice of Sun Eagle Squadron on Unicom,? said
one of the crewmembers behind him.  ?He?s  requesting clearance to land.?
     Boomer gazed at his monitor in time to see eight vipers emerge from
the darkness, on a direct bee-line for the Galactica, slowing down as
they approached the port side landing bay.
     ?Tell him that clearance to land is granted,? Boomer instructed the
crewman.
     ?Commander on the bridge,? announced a voice.
     ?As you were,? replied the cheerful voice of Commander Adama. 
Boomer turned around to see the commander as he strode across the floor,
nodding to subordinates. His hands were clasped behind his back, which he
had come to recognize as his nonintrusive approach.  There was no
emergency or urgent business to discuss, but Adama still looked concerned
about something.  He always did after talking with Dr. Zee.
     He gave the older man a brief nod.  ?Hello, Commander.?
     ?Boomer.?  The bearded man smiled boyishly.  ?How is traffic
tonight??
     ?Moderate.  Long-range patrols are slightly behind schedule, so are
other departures.?
     ?Any complaints??
     ?One.?
     Adama frowned.  ?That would be Ambassador Kar, wouldn?t it??
     ?It would be,? Boomer answered.  ?He?s in his personal transport,
and he seems to be in quite a hurry to get off the Galactica.?
     Adama scratched his wispy white beard.  ?Yes, Dr. Zee informed me of
his leaving.  Rather sudden, wouldn?t you say?  Kar isn?t known for
leaving like this, without any ceremony.?
     ?No, sir, he isn?t.  He was recalled to the Borella unexpectedly. 
None of us knows why.?
     Bridge Officer Balvey broke in.  ?Commander, the ambassador wants to
know if he?s been cleared for launch.?
     ?Patch him into me for a moment,? said the commander.
     At once, the Nomen?s ridged forehead and jutting jaw appeared on the
monitor in front of Adama.  He looked agitated.  ?What is the delay??
demanded the ambassador.  ?Oh, hello, Commander Adama.  Is there some
difficulty??
     ?That was going to be my question,? said the commander.  ?It?s not
like you to leave as suddenly as this, and I wondered if there was a
problem.  Can we do anything to help??
     The Nomen shook his head impatiently.  ?I left word that this is a
personal matter, which I must handle myself.  I?ll be checking in with
Toth, and you can consult her about my return.  Am I cleared to launch or
not??
     Adama hesitated.  ?Have a safe trip, Ambassador.  You know, it?s a
long way for someone to be flying solo in a small craft.?
     Kar?s eyes narrowed.  ?We all have responsibilities, and some of
them we must face alone.  Good-bye, Commander.?
     ?Good-bye,? said Adama.
     Boomer felt an odd apprehension as he went through the prelaunch
checklist.  ?Good-bye? was such a simple phrase, yet depending on how it
was said, it could mean a cheerful parting for a few minutes or the
anguished parting of forever.  There was something ominous in the way Kar
and Adama had exchanged those simple words.  He glanced at Commander
Adama, who was trying so hard to understand the Nomen ambassadors and, at
the same time, keep his distance from them.  Adama had yet to learn how
futile it was to try to think like them, or how difficult it was to keep
from being drawn into their intrigues.
     He wanted to tell Kar good luck, but all he said was, ?Core systems
transferring control to Nomen transport.  Launch when ready.?
     As the small fumarello-shaped vessel lifted off from the tarmac in 
Launch Bay Alpha and glided into the starscape, Commander Adama shook his
head.  ?Was he in any kind of trouble with the Nomen Council??
     ?I don?t know,? Boomer said with a shrug.  ?Contrary to popular
belief I don?t know everything that goes on here.?
     Commander Adama was just turning to leave when it happened.  The
instruments tracking Kar?s one-man ship shot off their scales.
     ?Solium leak!  Nomen transport!? shouted a crewmember.
A colleague added, ?Solium levels increasing four-hundred percent!?
     Boomer pouned his communications panel.  ?Nomen transport, come in! 
Kar!?
     The small ship continued to drift for a second until it exploded
into a searing cloud of subatomic particles.  The explosion blossomed
outward through space, until it vanished like a rainbow chased by the
sun.  In less than two seconds, there was nothing left of Kar?s personal
transport but ever-expanding space dust.
     ?Good Kobol!? said a crewmember behind Boomer.
     Commander Adama leaned on a panel, gaping with amazement at the
glimmering starscape, where there had been a ship a few seconds earlier. 
He swallowed hard and yelled, ?Organize a rescue team!  Launch Blue
Squadron!?
     ?Blue Squadron,? said Boomer, ?scramble for recon probe----code
ten----grid alpha 136.  Also, search and rescue, go to grid alpha 136.?
     ?There?s nothing left of it,? said one stunned crewmember. ?There?s
not enough left to fill a thimble.?
     Nobody was going to rescind the order to send a Viper squadron and a
rescue team, but it certainly looked pointless.  A few seconds later, a
crewmember announced that Blue Squadron was in the air and circling the
coordinates.  The rescue team was getting suited up for a space walk.
     Commander Adama went over to the communications console. "This is
Commander Adama to Captain Troy, come in.?
     ?Yes, grandfather,? said the black-haired strike commander, sounding
a little groggy, as if he?d been taking a nap.
     ?There?s been a terrible accident,? Adama glanced at Boomer.  ?At
least we think it?s an accident.?
     ?A rhodium charge on the main solium reactor would do that,? the
black colonel said.
     Adama heaved his shoulders.  ?Anyway, Troy, Kar is dead.?
     ?What!? blurted Troy, formerly known by his nickname of Boxey, which
his mother, Serina, and his adoptive family aboard Galactica had used.
?How??
     ?Meet me on the bridge,? grumbled Adama.  ?Out.?
     A moment later, the filtered monitor image of Captain Troy was
replaced by a young man in a flight helmet.  ?Blue Squadron, reporting.?
The image of Troy?s wingman, the sandy-haired Lt. Dillon, was slightly
grainy, but Boomer could still make out the worry in his face.
     ?Report,? he said.
     Dillon studied his instruments. ?I?m picking up lots of trace
elements, residual gasses, and a pocket of radiation. I see exactly where
the explosion took place, but if you?re looking for survivors...forget
it.  We?ll be lucky to find any debris at all.?
     Boomer nodded grimly, having expected the worst.  He glanced at
Commander Adama, and his usually unruffled face looked shocked and gaunt. 
That confirmed it.
     Kar of the Third Circle, the Nomen Ambassador to the Council of
Twelve, was dead.

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

CHAPTER  2
AMBASSADOR KAR IS.....DEAD

     Since Kar often worked in his quarters, Toth used her access to go
in and organize his transparencies, data crystals, and documents.  Kar
could be messy and disorganized when left to his own devices, and she was
looking for commitments he hadn?t told her about, perhaps even a clue as
to why he had left so suddenly.
     Could he be in trouble with the Council?  Kar?s allies in the
Council were supposed to keep him out of the political fray, to leave him
free to do his job, but they were not always successful.  Kar was
outspoken, short-tempered, and secretive....he could have enemies and
battles she didn?t even know about.  Toth sank into the chair at his desk
and saw half-a-dozen data crystals strewn across the desktop.  She
scooped them up ans shoved them into a corner, still wondering about his
mysterious departure, going alone and piloting himself.
     The door chimed and Toth lifted her formidable jaw.  Temporarily,
she was the sole representative of the Nomen on the Battlestar Galactica,
and she had to conduct herself in a certain manner.  The visitor was
probably a constituent having travel difficulties or a Colonial making a
complaint about some incident of Nomen brutality.  She had a special data
crystal with autoerase for those complaints.
     ?Enter!?
     To her surprise, it wasn?t a confused civilian but Commander Adama,
followed by Captain Troy and Colonel Boomer.  Toth bristled in her chair,
thinking that they were after information.  But even if she knew
anything, which she didn?t, she wasn?t about to discuss Kar?s personal
affairs with a bunch of Colonials.
     ?Can I help you??
     Commander Adama halted and straightened his shoulders.  He looked
back at his subordinates, but they both looked dazed and unable to offer
him any help.  Toth turned slowly in her chair, realizing that they
weren?t after information....they had come to deliver it.
     ?The ambassador.....? Adama said hoarsely.  ?Ambassador Kar is dead. 
His ship exploded just after launch.?
     ?What!? shouted Toth, leaping to her feet.  She brought her fist
down on the desk with a thud, and the data crystals bounced off the
corner and rolled around.
     ?We?re conducting an investigation,? Troy said.  ?We?re wondering if
you can tell us anything.?
     Toth shook her head like a maddened daemosarus and went stomping
around the room.  ?Have you searched the area?  Is there any sign of
him??
     ?None,? said Adama.  ?We?ve sent reconnaissance, rescue crews,
repair crews to check the air-locks, everything we can think of....but
his craft was obliterated.  He couldn?t have survived it.?
     ?The debris pattern is consistent with a bomb,? Boomer added.
     Toth finally straightened her back, lifted her chin, and said
calmly, ?You must tell me everything you know.  If he has been murdered,
I will go on a Blood Hunt for his murderers!?
     ?You most assuredly will not!? Troy thundered.  ?We?re not going to
have any vigilante justice on this battlestar----we have plenty of our
own laws against killing people, just like the state of California, on
Earth.  If you want justice, just tell us who might have wanted him dead. 
If they?re on the Galactica, or any other ship in the fleet, for that
matter, we?ll get them.?
     ?If I knew who did it,? Toth answered, ?I would be there right now,
with my fingers around the bastard?s throat!?
     ?Then tell us what you do know,? said Adama. ?Did anybody threaten
Kar recently?  What was this trip back to the freighter Borella all
about??
     The Nomen shook her fists in frustration.  ?I don?t know why he was
going home. It could have something to do with the Nomen Council, his
mate, who knows?  He said he received a dispatch and was leaving on
personal business.  As for having enemies, you know that Kar has his
share.  He has a few right here on the battlestar, such as Sire Mollary. 
I would look first at that sniveling buritician if I were you.?
     ?He?s on our list,? Troy assured her.  ?But Mollary has had yahrens
to try to kill Kar, if that?s what he wanted to do.  That?s really not
his style.  Maybe it was somebody Kar recently met.  Did he have any new
associates?  Did he seem worried about anything??
     Toth wasn?t really listening. The true weight of what had happened
was finally descending upon her.  Kar was dead, and she would have to
devote the rest of her life to his Blood Hunt, the tracking down and
killing of his murderers.  These weak Colonials with their outraged sense
of justice were unimportant, not when Kar?s death must be avenged.
     ?Perhaps,? she said, ?it was bound to come to this.  On the
Galactica, Kar was too prominent and surrounded by too many enemies.  He
risked his life to promote equality for our people in Fleet society, and
this is what he got in return.?
     Adama cleared his throat.  ?Who else had access to his private
transport?  Try to help us here.?
     ?His private transport has been docked for months, unused.  Dozen of
maintenance people had access to it, and most of them were your people. 
He actually believed he was safe here.?  Toth snorted a derisive laugh. 
?Foolish man. He actually thought he was safe here.?
     Boomer moved toward Kar?s desk and picked up a data crystal that was
perilously close to falling off the edge.  She picked up the other data
crystals, too, and leafed through the pile of transparencies.
     ?Is this the way he left his desk?? asked the colonel.
     Toth shrugged.  ?Unfortunately, yes.  He left everything as you see
it.  Perhaps there is something useful here, but I worry that he was
lured by this message into a hasty departure.?
     Troy took an evidence bag from a pouch on his belt and opened it. 
?Colonel, could you please drop those crystals in here.  And the
transparencies.?
     As Boomer dropped the evidence into the bag, Troy told Toth, ?We?re
going to have to remove all his documents and seal off his quarters. 
Colonial Security will give you a receipt for his property, and I?ll give
it back to you after I?ve had a look.?
     ?It matters not,? answered Toth. ?What are the leavings of a dead
man but twigs on a dead tree??
     ?I feel terrible about this,? said Commander Adama. ?Allow me to
contact his next of kin on the Borella for you.?
     ?No,? snapped Toth.  ?I will do it. There are several matters I must
attend to right away.  I will be in my quarters.?
     Troy watched the woman square her shoulders and march out of the
room.  Toth?s reaction had been about what he?d expected----no tears, no
denial, no accusations, and not much help either----just pure anger. 
Some people might have considered Toth a suspect, but not him.  He knew
how much she admired Kar.
     ?She surely cannot be serious about going on a Blood Hunt,? said
Adama.
     ?Unfortunately, grandfather, she is serious,? said Troy.  ?Remember
the Blood Hunt she went on for Dust?  Toth nearly killed that woman with
her bare hands the moment she found her hiding in the steerage
compartments on the Rising Star.  That twisted Code of theirs is so
crucial to their very being.?
     The captain went over to a nearby telecommunicator, thumbed the
switch to activate it, and said, ?This is Captain Troy. I want a security
detail and a forensic team at Ambassador Kar?s quarters.  On the double.?
     ?Let?s put a moratorium on these frequent departures,? said Adama. 
?Unless there?s a Cylon attack, no ship will launch without my
permission.? 
     Boomer started to the door.  ?I?m on my way to the bridge.?
     The two men watched Boomer leaved, and Troy felt as if he were in
suspended animation.  His shock and grief had put him into a sort of
lethargy.  He knew they should be taking action, but they could do
nothing to bring Kar back to life.  That made every action seem
pointless.  Still, justice had to be served, whether one called it the
Blood Hunt or revenge.  If the perpetrator was still on the battlestar,
they had to open every hatch until they found him.
     ?I?ve got condolences and report to send,? said Adama. ?There will
have to be a shipboard announcement, then an IFB conference.  Don?t
worry, Troy, I?ll keep the media away from you.  You just press your
investigation.?
     ?Thanks, grandfather,? said Troy. 
     The commander strode out, and the Blue Squadron leader dropped the
bag of documents and data crystals onto Kar?s desk.  Looking for more
clues, he glanced around Kar?s quarters, which were almost Scorpian in
appearance, with heavy furnishings of dark metal and leather.  On the
walls hung embroidered tapestries of hunts and battle scenes, with
bloodstone standing in for the blood.  Troy turned his attention to the
desk drawers and added a few stationary items to his evidence bag.
     ?Krumst here, Captain.?  Troy looked up to see the security detail
he had called for.
     ?Ambassador Kar is dead,? the squadron leader reported simply.  ?His
ship exploded, and he was the only casualty.  I can?t give you any more
information than that.?  Troy frowned.  ?I?m worried about his aide,
Attache Toth.  She?s not a suspect, but she could be a victim.  And I
think she knows more than she?s telling us.  You and Krotelus go to
Toth?s quarters and keep an eye on her.  Tell her you?re just checking
in, to see if she needs anything.  If she goes anywhere, follow her and
advise me.?
     ?Yes, sir,? said Krumst.  He and a woman security officer hurried
down the corridor.
     Troy pointed to the two other security officers.  ?You seal off
these quarters and wait for the forensic team.  Except for them, nobody
is to go in or out.  All Nomen trying to leave the Galactica should be
held for questioning.
     ?Yes, sir.? The officers took positions on either side of the door.
     Troy thought about taking his bag of evidence to the laboratory, but
he wanted to view the data crystals first, and he had a viewer only a
metron away.  He reached into the bag and brought up a handful of data
crystals, which varied in shape and color.  Their connectors were exactly
the same, although they had different serial numbers and notations etched
upon them.
     That is, all but one had serial numbers and notations.  One data
crystal was so dark that it looked as if it had been irradiated, and it
had no identifying marks.  Slowly, he placed it into Kar?s viewer. 
     A female Nomen appeared on the screen, and she was breathtaking. 
She had on a clinging red dress that hugged her slender body. This
couldn?t be Kar?s mate, could it?  Troy dismissed that idea out of hand,
because if this was Kar?s mate, he wouldn?t have left her for months at a
time.
     ?Hello, Kar,? sneered the woman.  ?You recognize me, do you not?  I
am Mira, daughter of Rog.  I speak for my mother Het, and my brother,
Kog.  We are all that is left of the family you destroyed.  Yes, Kar, we
are beaten, and our titles and belongings are gone. Our father is dead,
his name disgraced, and his attempt to kill you from the grave was a
failure.  To our shame, every assassin has failed.?
     Troy grumbled a curse under his breath, because he had never heard
of any of these murder attempts.  The delectable Nomen got really angry
at that point and went on to threaten Kar?s life.  She vowed to go on a
Blood Hunt for him, as if they didn?t have enough of those going on. 
Well, thought Troy, this certainly qualified as a personal problem.
     When she pulled out a sword and sliced open her own ridge forehead,
Troy?s jaw flopped open.  The viewer blinked off at the same time that
the telecommunicator chimed.  Troy yanked the data crystal from the
viewer and put it in his uniform pants pocket before he answered it.
     ?Troy here.?
     ?Krumst,? came the reply.  ?We?ve got a problem, sir.  Attache Toth
is not in her quarters.?
     The squadron leader headed for the door. ?All right, find her. In
fact, I?m sending out a security alert. Detain all Nomen for
questioning!?

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

     Sire Mollary preened in front of his vanity mirror, shaping thick
strands of black hair into dagger-like spikes. They framed his rotund
face like the rays of the Naytarese sun.  He touched a manicured finger
to his tongue and ran the saliva over one unruly eyebrow, then he
adjusted his sash and the medals on his burgundy jacket.  He had to look
good tonight....it was a Fleet holiday!  Winter Solstice, they called it,
and he had no idea that solar astronomy was so popular in a convoy of
spaceships light-yahren away from any sun.  At a holiday commemorating
the sun, what could be better than having one?s hair look like the rays
of the sun?
     Mollary chuckled and took a sip of an amber liquid, which he was
drinking in honor of the Fleet?s fiesta.  Then he checked his purse to
see make sure he had all the cubits that he?d won the night before in the
Rising Star?s chancery.  But he didn?t plan to gamble too much, not when
the ladies were in a holiday spirit and there were plenty of exotic
refreshments to sample.  This beverage he now sipped with gusto, the one
that Dillon and Troy had brought back from Earth, called ?Budweiser,? or
?Bud,? convinced him that most Earth beverages must be sweetly innocent
in taste, yet more intoxicating than ambrosa in effect.  A perfect drink
with which to woo the ladies, he thought with another chuckle.
     Slapping his ample belly and thinking about his wonderful meal of
fritterfish brisket and Tarsian pudding, Mollary strode to the door.  He
began to hum a Caprican dance melody, thinking he might do some dancing
tonight, and he was still humming when he stepped into the corridor.  He
didn?t know there was someone waiting for him until the hand cupped his
mouth and the knife slipped under his double chin.
     ?Quiet,? commanded Toth.  ?Your life depends on it.?
     Mollary?s first instinct was to fight back, but the strong female
Nomen was thirty yahrens younger than he, and she had the advantage. 
Still, he couldn?t remain silent.  ?You daggit!? he sputtered through her
fingers.  ?What?s the matter with you??
     The knife point pricked his chin, and it felt as if he had cut
himself shaving.  ?Open the door,? she whispered.
     The buritician did as he was told, because he didn?t wish to be
slaughtered in the hallway, in front of all these brave Colonial
warriors.  If he was to die, at least let it be privately and with some
dignity.  He jabbed the button with his pointer finger and the door
slipped open.
     Toth guided him into his quarters, taking a glance down the hallway
to make sure they weren?t seen.  As soon as the door shut behind them,
she pressed the knife closer to his throat.
     ?What?s the matter with you?? he asked again in his peculiar accent. 
?If you need to go to this much trouble to kill me, just kill me and be
done with it!?
     She gripped his ornate collar and shook him.  ?You killed Kar,
didn?t you??
     He laughed at the absurdity of it.  ?Kill Kar?  Many times in my
dreams, but he?s still alive, isn?t he??  He stared at her wary eyes. 
?Do you mean Kar is dead??
     She glowered at him.  ?You don?t know anything about it, I suppose.?
     ?I swear I don?t!  How did it happen??
     ?Much more quickly than your death.?  Toth pressed the knife into
his throat.
     There came a door chime, followed by a banging on the door.  ?Sire
Mallory!? called Troy.  ?Are you in there??
     The buritician grinned at his attacker, showing a pair of sharp
canine teeth. ?Do you wish to be a fugitive or not?? he whispered to
Toth.
     She pulled back the knife and stuck it into her sheath.  ?I can?t
kill you without proof.  But if I ever find any proof....?
     ?It will be false,? claimed Mollary.  He straightened his jacket and
wiped a few beads of blood off his chin.  Then he went to his control
panel and opened the door.
     Troy rushed in, followed by two security officers clutching laser
rifles, and the captain didn?t look surprised to find Toth there.
     ?I thought you had things to do,? he said to the Nomen.
     ?This is one of them,? she answered.
     Mollary cleared his throat and loosened his collar.  ?I told her,
and I?ll tell you, Troy----I had nothing to do with Kar?s termination. In
fact, I just found out about it.?
     ?Yes, he was gunned down while walking to the Officer?s Club,? said
Troy.
     Mollary shivered.  ?Oooh, disgusting.  I hope it didn?t spoil your
Fleet holiday.?  Then the buritician thought about what he had just
heard.  ?You mean, the Nomen ambassador was shot down in plain view, like
a daggit, and you don?t know who did it?  Shame, shame, Troy.?
     Captain Troy looked sheepish.  ?That?s not really how he died.?
     ?Oh!? said Mollary with disappointment.  ?Now you?re playing games
with me, hoping to trip me up. It won?t work.  In this matter, I am as
dumb as you are!?
     Toth scowled.  ?If it wasn?t you, if it wasn?t one of our rivals,
then who was it??
     Mollary cocked his head, trying not to smile.  The idea of never
having to see Kar?s smirking face again did have its appeal.  But then,
there would probably be a new Nomen ambassador to the Council of Twelve,
one who might prove more unpleasant and pigheaded than Kar, if that was
possible.
     The buritician lowered his head.  ?Of course, I will relay my
condolences to the Borella, but I ought to wait until there has been
official confirmation.?
     Troy pointed toward the buritician?s desk.  ?Check your terminal in
a while, and there should be an announcement from Commander Adama.  He
scheduled a memorial service for Kar at 1800 centons tomorrow in the
theater in Gamma Section.  Don?t expect a lot of details about this....we
really don?t know what happened.  It may have been an accident.?
     Now Mollary permitted himself a smile.  ?I don?t think so.  A man
like Kar always dies badly.?
     Toth glared at him and her hand flew to the hilt of her knife. 
Mollary laughed.  ?Did you really think Kar would die of old age, in a
soft bed somewhere??
     ?No,? Toth admitted, letting her hand drop from the hilt of her
knife.
     ?I have sources of information among the people of the Fleet,? said
Mollary.  ?Permit me to go ship to ship and ask around, purely in the
interest of aiding Captain Troy.  Perhaps I can uncover some tidbit of
knowledge that has gone unnoticed.?
     ?Well, you?ll need to clear that with the commander, but I?m sure
he?ll give you permission to leave the Galactica, being a senior member
of the Council.  But watch yourself,? Troy cautioned.  ?We don?t want to
lose any more dignitaries.?
     That wiped the smile off Mollary?s face.  ?Thank you for spoiling my
evening.?
     ?Think nothing of it,? Troy turned to the Nomen attache.  ?Toth, I
think you?d better come with me.  I?ve got a few questions for you, based
on some new information.?
     Toth said nothing to apologize for the unprovoked attack on Mollary;
in fact, she glared at him for a moment before brushing past the security
officers.  Troy and the officers followed her out, and the door clamped
shut behind them.
     Sire Mollary heaved a worried sigh and poured himself another glass
of ?Budweiser.?  The death of any key figure in Fleet politics, even a
Nomen ambassador, was bound to create wounds that might take yahrens to
heal.  It could create rivalries among the ships of the fleet and perhaps
plunge some ships into a state of outright civil war.  The death of more
than one dignitary would result in the kind of chaos that would leave the
fleet and, most certainly, Earth open to Cylon attack and conquest.
     Mollary set down his ?Budweiser? glass and hurried to his
communications panel.  He pressed the panel and snapped, ?Vir!  Come to
my quarters immediately.?
     ?But, sire,? answered the voice of his portly servant, ?I thought we
had agreed to meet on the Rising Star, in the gambling chancery.? 
Mollary heard a shriek of laughter in the background.
     ?The fiesta is over for us.  We?ve got intelligence to gather.  I
take it you do not know that Kar is gone??
     ?Isn?t he here yet?? asked Vir, having a hard time coping with the
noise in the Rising Star?s chancery.  ?No, I haven?t seen him.?
     ?Never mind,? said Mollary. ?You?ll hear about it soon enough.  Take
a shuttle to the Galactica and come to my quarters, as I ordered.  And
look out for suspicious persons, especially suspicious Nomen persons. 
Good evening, Vir.?
     Hmmmm, thought Mollary with a wry smile, they suspect another Nomen.
˙But they hadn?t made any arrests or even admitted that it was murder, so
their case must be lacking.  He would help them, if he could, because he
didn?t want to feel any more Nomen blades at his throat.  On the other
hand, if this incident were to mushroom out of control and cause chaos on
the Borella, that could lead to the Borella?s people doing something
rash, like leaving the fleet and trying to hide on Earth, which might not
be such a bad thing.  It had always been his belief that the Fleet would
be better off without the Borellian Nomen.  
     Sire Mollary sipped his ?Budweiser? thoughtfully.

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

CHAPTER 3
TROY MAKES SOME NOMENS SWEAT

     ?I have things to do!? said Toth as she planted her feet firmly in
the center of the corridor and refused to budge.
     ?Like roughing up Sire Mollary,? said Troy.  ?If you really want to
find Kar?s murderer, you?ll make time to come with me.?
     She lowered her jaw slightly.  ?You know who did it??
     ?Let?s just say I?ve got a pretty good guess. Come on, the
commander?s waiting.?
     When Troy and Toth reached the commander?s office, Lt. Dillon was
just completing his report.  Basically, the repair crew, the rescue crew,
and the tech shuttle had uncovered a whole bunch of nothing.  There was
nothing wrong with the landing bay or the force-shield membrane, and
there was nothing left of the small craft and her pilot, except for a
billion particles scattered through space.  It would take days to gather
enough of these particles to analyze them, and Boomer had already
assigned crews to the task.
     All eyes turned to Troy, and he extracted the unmarked data crystal
from his pocket.  ?This is one of the crystals Kar left on his desk.  I
popped it into his viewer because it didn?t have any serial numbers or
markings on it.?
     ?I always clearly label our data crystals,? said Toth, bristling at
the idea that she would be such an inefficient administrator.
     ?I?m sure you do,? said Troy, ?but I don?t think you?ve seen this
crystal.  Grandfather, if I may??
     Adama nodded assent, and Troy activated the commander?s viewer
behind his desk and inserted the crystal.     He heard several intakes of
breath when the vibrant Nomen woman in the red gown appeared on the
screen.
     ?Hello, Kar,? she began.  ?You recognize me, do you not?  I am Mira,
daughter of Rog.  I speak for my mother, Het, and my brother, Kog.  We
are all that is left of the family you destroyed.?
     Toth slammed her fist on the back of Adama?s chair and cursed
colorfully.  Troy instantly paused the playback.
     ?I take it you know this woman?? asked Commander Adama.
     Toth?s lips trembled, whether from anger or sorrow it was hard to
tell.  ?I know what is coming next.?
     Troy resumed the playback, and the Nomen in the red dress swore the
Blood Hunt against the dead man.  She invoked the Prophets to allow her
to kill him with her own hands.  Troy didn?t warn them that she was about
to cut a gash in her own forehead, and there were more abrupt intakes of
breath.  The playback ended, leaving the room in silence.
     ?Charming,? said Dillon.
     Toth stalked to the door, and Troy headed her off.  ?After what?s
happened, I don?t want to make things hard for you, Toth, but I want you
to tell us everything you know.?
     The angry Nomen stared from one human to another, and Troy had a
terrible fear that she would smash his head and bolt for the door.
     Finally, Toth growled deep in her throat and began to pace Adama?s
tasteful office.  ?I had just arrived on the Galactica.  I had never met
Kar, but I was excited about my new position and eager to prove myself. 
At that time, Rog, her father, was dying.  As his dying wish, he hired an
assassin from the Thenta Society to come to the battlestar to kill Kar. 
To make sure that Kar suffered and knew why he was to die, Rog sent him a
message like that one, on a data crystal.?
     She laughed without humor.  ?In fact, Kar thought I was the
assassin!  What a fool Rog was, as his assassin would have succeeded
without the advance warning.?
     ?Why didn?t you tell us about this murder attempt?? said Troy.
     ?It was the time of the religious festival,? answered the Nomen,
?and you had your own problems. Besides, this was a private affair.  Kar
did cause grave wrong to the Rog family, and their Blood Hunt was
justified.  We managed to stop them the first time, but this time they
apparently.....? Toth bowed her majestic head, unable to finish the
thought.
     Commander Adama scowled.  ?So this is another Blood Hunt incident? 
I had heard the Nomen were barbarians, but vengeance killings and blood
feuds went out with the Era of Darkness!  They won?t be tolerated
anywhere in this fleet!?
     Toth said, ?Why don?t you tell that to Mira. She obviously doesn?t
know that rule.?
     Adama came out from behind his desk, letting his anger subside. 
?Listen to me, Toth, we?re all angry about this, and we all want to see
the killers brought to justice.  This message is almost a confession, but
we still lack proof.  But one thing I want to make clear----I won?t have
any more Blood Hunts in my fleet!?
     Toth moved her head from side to side, as if forcing her thick neck
muscles to relax.  She was still enraged, thought Troy, but now Kar?s
death made some kind of sense according to her view of the universe.  It
wasn?t inexplicable or random anymore....there was a face to it.
     ?The Rog family should be easy to find,? declared Toth, ?on the
Borella.  And guess where I am going.?
     ?We?re not letting any Nomen leave the Galactica,? warned Troy.
     Toth straightened.  ?I have diplomatic immunity. They can?t stop me,
can they, Adama??
     Adama shook his head.  ?No.  You and Kar can leave the Galactica
anytime.? The commander looked saddened for a moment when he realized
that he had used Kar?s name in the present tense.
     ?What exactly did Kar do to Rog?? asked Dillon.
     Toth?s shoulders slumped. ?It is not a pleasant story, and you won?t
think highly of my superior when you hear it.  After the first murder
attempt was foiled, Kar told me the truth as a reward for earning his
trust.  It began when he wanted to succeed to the Third Circle.?
     At Adama?s puzzled expression, she explained, ?You see, Nomen
society is highly regimented.  We have circles...what you call social
classes.  The Inner Circle is the tribal chieftain and all his extended
family.  The Second Circle is made up of our holy men and prophets, and
the Third Circle is the highest to which a common tribesman can aspire. 
As you can see, to aspire to the Third Circle is very ambitious, and Kar
was very ambitious.?
     Toth gazed at the blank viewer as if remembering a school lesson
from long ago.  ?There are a number of chairs in the Third Circle; the
number is always constant.  To be seated, a chair must be empty.?
     She glanced back at them.  ?Someone in the Third Circle died, and
there was a vacancy.  Kar and Rog vied for it, lobbying their friends and
allies.  Rog was the elder man, with more experience, but Kar was more
ruthless.
     ?During this time, there was a famous trial against a rebel chief
named Balshazar.  The tribunal had been hammering at him to know where he
had obtained certain weapons, and he knew he would be sentenced to death
no matter what he said.  One day out of nowhere, Balshazar said Rog had
sold him the weapons.  Although there was no evidence, a hue and cry went
up and Rog was ruined.  He was removed from the Council.
     ?After Balshazar was executed, Kar laid a substantial sum upon the
chief?s family and had them relocated to another ship for this little
favor.  Rog was stricken from the Nomen Roster, and Kar succeeded to the
Third Circle and had his choice of plum positions.  He chose to become
ambassador to the Council of Twelve.?
     ?Well and good,? said Adama, ?but it didn?t end there, obviously. 
Now, tell me: Is this woman, Mira, capable of carrying out her threat??
     Toth lowered her head and looked at the captain through hooded eyes. 
?Commander, the Blood Hunt is not an idle threat----it is a life?s
ambition, a goal for which you would gladly sacrifice your life.  I do
not know Mira, but I saw her draw the blood.  She had determined that the
most important thing in her life was to fulfill her Blood Hunt, and she
would do so or die.?
     Adama cleared his throat uneasily.  ?There were two more terms I
didn?t understand.  You said Rog hired the Thenta Society.  What is
that??
     ?A guild of professional assassins,? answered Toth. ?Expensive but
extremely reliable, under most circumstances.  We were lucky to foil them
the first time.?
     ?And what is the Vee-Tar she mentioned??
     ?The purpose in life.?  Toth lifted her chin.  ?Mira is saying there
is no higher purpose in life than to close in for the kill in a Blood
Hunt.  That is as it should be.?
     The commander shook his head.  ?If you wouldn?t mind, can you
explain a little more about how Nomen society works?  I must admit that
I?m at my wit?s end trying to understand all of this.?
     Toth said, ?Nomen social structure is very old, nearly as old as our
race itself.  When the first tylium miners came to Borella thousands of
yahrens ago from the Colonies, they made our ancestors all equal?slaves. 
They killed many in the Inner Circle, as you can imagine, because a
conqueror always kills the leaders first. We have learned that lesson
well.?
     Her jaw clenched tightly. ?I cannot tell you what it does to a
people....to have aliens from another world enslave you. It was the
defining moment in our history, because it made us the strong and
ruthless people we are today.  Children were hidden from the tylium
miners, papers were forged, and the bloodlines continued.  When we
overthrew the miners, and later interbred with them, we returned to our
old class system with a vengeance.  Only those in the Inner Circle can
govern, with the help of the Nomen Council.?
     Softly she added, ?Before the tylium miners came and turned our
fertile planet into a desert wasteland, we were farmers----simple people. 
If they hadn?t invaded, we would probably still be living in sod houses
and plowing fields.?
     ?Now you?re a race of desert nomads,? said Troy, ?and the Colonial
humans you?ve come to hate have been destroyed by their enemies.?
     Toth smiled.  ?Justice.?
     ?But must you continue these Blood Hunts?? asked Adama.  ?Borella
has been in Cylon hands for thirty yahrens now.  You have no other home
here but with us.  And when Earth can finally receive us, you?ll be
subject to their laws, the highest of which forbids murder in any form,
no matter what the justification may be.  Can?t you abolish that custom??
     She glared at the commander.  ?You haven?t understood a word I have
said.? With that, the Nomen shouldered her way past Troy and strode out
the door.
     The captain called after her, ?Let us handle it!?  She ignored him
and marched down the corridor.

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

     When Toth started out, nobody could think of a reason to stop her.
     ?How soon can she leave?? asked Troy.  ?Are there any Nomen shuttles
in the launch bays??
     ?No,? said Adama, ?but there?s one docking tomorrow.  I didn?t get a
chance to tell you yet, but I talked to members of the Nomen Council. 
They don?t like our explanation for Kar?s death, or rather our lack of an
explanation.  They haven?t exactly accused us of negligence, but they
want to know how this could have happened. I offered to send a delegation
to answer questions and show them vidlogs, maintenance reports, whatever
pertains to the case.  That crystal should help....it makes clear that
this is probably a Nomen internal matter.?
     ?They?ll let her go,? said Dillon.
     Adama stiffened.  ?If this Mira person is off the Galactica and back
on the Borella, it?s out of our hands.  One more thing...there?s going to
be a big memorial service for Kar in the Great Hall, and that is the best
place for our delegation to start asking its questions.  Make sure you
take your dress uniforms.?
     Troy gulped.  ?I beg your pardon, Grandfather??
     ?You mean we?re the delegation?? said Dillon.
     Commander Adama managed an encouraging smile.  ?Why not?  Who knows
better about launch procedures, the bridge, and security procedures than
two of my best warriors.  Besides, Troy, you?re the one with the data
crystal.?
     ?The murderer may not have left the Galactica,? said Troy.
     Adama glanced at his wall monitors.  ?The Shanavas doesn?t dock for
almost twenty-four centons, so you have some time.  But get packed....you
will be on that shuttle when it leaves.?
     ?Bring your cold gear and your bathing trunks,? said Dillon.
     ?Why?? asked Troy.
     ?Well, you see Borella had a thin atmosphere, low humidity, and very
little air pressure. In some locations, temperatures could vary sixty
degrees in one day, between freezing cold and broiling hot.  The life
support systems on the Borella have been set to approximate these same
conditions.  By the way, ever seen a Nomen sweat??
     Troy shook his head. ?No.?
     ?Me neither,? said Dillon. 
     Troy grabbed the data crystal and headed to the door.  ?But I?m
going to make some Nomen sweat right now.?

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

     The interior lights of the Borella glowed red, red as the Mega Sun,
meaning that the ship had gone into afternoon mode.  The internal
temperature of the freighter was presently in the upper forties in the
Celsion scale, Kar estimated.  Odd how he kept thinking in Colonial
terms....he must really try to get away from that blasted battlestar more
often.
     ?Good afternoon, Ambassador,? said an acolyte, passing him on the
catwalks stretching between the portside lodging decks on one side and
the starboard utility decks on the other side.  It was a metal catwalk,
enclosed against accidents, and it spanned a rugged depression of
steaming pipes, hoses, conduits and fuel bins about fifty meters below. 
Oh, how much it reminded him of the great Silence Canyon back on Borella. 
Thanks to the red lights, the pipes, hoses and conduits had a copper glow
to them.
     Kar nodded curtly to the acolyte.  Since he was one of the guest
lecturers at the sacred Nomen school, the Illuminated Path, it was rather
impertinent of the acolyte to address him at all.  He walked on, content
that the young man had felt his displeasure.  There were fewer people
than he imagined would be out on a day like this, but then he remembered
that it was Feastday.  Many of the acolytes had returned to their
lodgings and would not be coming back until the evening.  He would give
his first address that night at the faculty dinner.
     Two more acolytes entered the catwalk near the utility decks, and
they humbly lowered their heads as they walked toward him.  Seeing the
acolytes dressed in their crude, unadorned robes reminded him of when he
had studied for the Eighth Circle.  He remembered it as an austere time
of life, full of discipline and study.  Still, he made valuable contacts
in the Path, contacts which served him well once he reached the Eighth
Circle.  After that, there was no formal training as one moved up the
ranks, just hard work, self-discipline, and ambition. Always ambition. 
Perhaps a little luck was useful, but Kar had always felt that a person
should create his own luck.
     He took a deep breath, not minding at all that it included the odors
of tylium, lubricants, and various hydraulic fluids that wafted up from
the steaming pipes below.  Ah, it was good to be alive and back in a
simpler place.  For such a gigantic warship, the Galactica could be so
claustrophobic at times.  The hatchway that led to the utilities decks
was coming into view, and it was gilded with gold and encrusted with
gemstones.  He quickened his pace, because he was slightly late for an
appointment with the regent.
     The two acolytes were coming closer now, and the catwalk wasn?t
really intended for more than two people to walk abreast.  To Kar?s
approval, the acolytes formed a single file and melted against the metal
meshing, allowing the ambassador to pass.  He gave them an approving
smile as he walked by.
     One of them moved a hair too abruptly, which caught his attention,
and Kar?s peripheral vision caught the other one lifting his arm.  Kar?s
brain told him to duck, and he did so before the laser boles could strike
his body.  They exploded harmlessly on impact with the meshing.  He
whirled around to catch the arm of the second assailant, and a small hand
weapon clattered to the walkway.
     The two of them were frightened now, and their panic betrayed them. 
The unarmed man froze, and the other one retrieved his laser boles,
reassembled them, and aimed them at the ambassador?s chest.  The old
defense training came back, and Kar gripped the man?s bole hand and
snapped the small bones of his wrist, eliciting a yelp of pain.  The
unarmed man finally dove for the gun on the walkway, but he was too late. 
Kar lashed out with his foot and sent the weapon sailing, then he threw
the attacker with the broken wrist on top of the other. The would-be
assassins sprawled on the walkway like helpless infants.
     ?Infidels!? he spit at them.
     He was looking forward to permanently crippling them when their
accomplices reacted.  From somewhere among the giant fuel tanks below
came a familiar pop.  The blast from the photon mortar hit the catwalk
and warped its molecular structure, and the floor literally melted
beneath Kar.  He dropped through a hole up to his waist, hanging
desperately to singed metal, his legs dangling in space.
     This gave his foes on the catwalk another opportunity. The one with
the broken wrist was still howling in pain, but the other one snatched up
the laser boles.  Grinning with pleasure, he was about to hurl them at
Kar, when the pop sounded again.  The sniper had picked the wrong target,
however, and a wavering beam ripped through the man with the broken
wrist, turning him into a smoldering pulp.
     This indiscriminate killing spooked the man with the laser boles,
and he leaped over Kar and ran toward the hatch.  Struggling frantically,
Kar managed to extricate his legs from the hole.  He had just regained
his feet when another photon blast severed the walkway behind him.  The
stressed metal groaned ominously, and Kar was pitched backward.  He
clawed for a handhold, but the dead man rolled on top of him.  Kar
screamed in horror as the lifeless form careened into space and dropped
through the pipes and hoses below with barely a sound.
     Kar lost his grip and started to fall.  The jungle of hoses swirled
beneath him....
     With a shriek, he bolted upright on a dirty cot.  Confused and
disoriented, the Nomen gaped at his surroundings, which looked like a
filthy ship?s compartment, one that had not seen any use in yahrens and
yahrens, adorned with old tablecloths.  The smell was some atrocious
mixture of curry and ground aryx horn.  He nearly gagged, but at least he
realized that he had only been dreaming.
     An old Nomen poked his head through the curtain that apparently
served as the cabin?s doorway.  ?Will you be quiet! Even in Down Below,
these burned-out old veterans can recognize your voice.?
     ?Sorry,? he whispered, rubbing his eyes.  ?I forgot where I was. 
Had a bad dream, too.  What time is it??
     ?Just after midnight,? said the old Nomen, whose name was Paba.  He
was one of Kar?s operatives, stationed in Down Below to gather
information.  From nearby came the sound of drunken voices, and the old
man slipped inside the ancient compartment.  ?You?ve got only fourteen
centons to go.  Don?t start panicking on me, or you?ll get us both
killed.?
     ?I didn?t panic,? Kar looked down.  ?I was dreaming, that?s all.  I
was reliving a terrible experience that actually happened to me.?
     ?We have no control over dreams like that,? admitted the old Nomen. 
?The Prophets send those dreams, to keep us alert.?
     ?Well, they did a good job,? said Kar. ?I?m as nervous as a pitlox
on Feastday.? He stood up, wiping the sleep dust out of his eyes, only to
groan and slump back into his cot.
     He checked his timepiece and found that it was night, or what passed
for night on the Battlestar Galactica.  ?I don?t know if I can stand this
for fourteen centons more.?
     ?It was your idea,? said Paba. ?Although I can?t understand whatever
gave you the idea to pretend to be dead.  You must be in considerable
trouble.
     Even dressed in the ragged remains of a Colonial Warrior?s uniform,
the ambassador had a regal gaze.  ?I pay you to do my bidding, and my
reasons are none of your concern.  You just make sure I am safe.?
     Paba chuckled.  ?How much safer can you be?  You are dead.? The old
man scooted out the door and tied the flap behind him.
     Kar moaned and lay back on his cot.  He might as well sleep, for
there was nothing else to do in the dismal compartment.  But sleep didn?t
sound appetizing after that horrible dream, which was all the more
horrifying because it had been real.  He couldn?t remember what had
happened to him after he lost his grip on the catwalk and fell into the
hoses, but he had woken up in the Life Station, with only a concussion
and superficial wounds to show for all the mayhem.  To avoid having
anyone prey into the past, he had hushed up the attack and returned to
the Galactica without saying anything to anyone, including Toth. The
assassins had escaped, and the dead man had never been identified.
     But Kar didn?t need to be told who they were or who had hired them. 
It was the Rog family. They had become unhinged!  After engineering two
attempts on his life with paid assassins, now they had gone on a Blood
Hunt and were coming after him themselves.
     Had they no respect for his rank and position?  He supposed not,
since he had destroyed their father to get his rank.  That desperate act
had troubled him more than once over the yahrens, but he had always
thought it would fade from importance with the passage of time.  His
crime had not been ambition....Rog was just as ambitious as he....his
crime had been impatience.  He could have let Rog have that chair in the
Third Circle while he bided his time.  Another vacancy had recently come
open, and he would have gotten it, with his wife?s help.  But then Rog,
or someone else, would have become ambassador to the Council of Twelve.
The last few yahrens of his life would have been radically different.
     Kar snorted. Considering his present circumstances....hiding out in
the veterans? slum of Down Below, pretending to be dead....changing the
past didn?t sound like a bad idea.  It just couldn?t be done.  Kar?s only
choice was to change the future to kill the remnants of the Rog family
before they killed him.  He had taken a chance leaving the data crystal
behind, but he wanted to leave some record......in the hands of the
Colonial warriors....in case genuine death was imminent.
     He felt movement on his skin, and he opened his eyes to see a
six-legged leatherwing scuttling across his wrist. He caught it in his
hand and studied the squirming insect for a moment.
     ?I am Kar of the Third Circle,? he told the bug.  ?Who are you to
annoy me??
     When the leatherwing failed to answer, he squashed it, pretending
that it was Mira, daughter of Rog.

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

CHAPTER 4
BREAKFAST

     The alarm went off, and Dillon, like all the other warriors in Blue
Squadron?s quarters, jumped up as if they?d been bitten by an annoying
crawlon.
     He stared bleary-eyed into space, wondering if it would be possible
to grab an extra forty winks.  Then he remembered....he had a full shift
of work ahead of him, particularly the visit to the Borella, which would
probably last a sectan, maybe two, depending on how long the
investigation took.
     How much blame would the Nomen leaders place on the Galactican
warriors for this tragedy?  They would certainly hold Boomer responsible,
because the murder----or accident, in the unlikely event it turned out to
be an accident----had happened on his watch; had happened within his
sphere of control, the communications link between the bridge and the
launch bays.  Was there anything anyone could have done to prevent it? 
In hindsight, it was easy to say that they should have prevented Kar from
taking off on a long trip in a solo craft, but what could they have done
to stop him?
     Kar?s transport had sat idle for sectons, and there was no way of
knowing when it had been sabotaged.  It was clear from the story about
Rog that Kar had been courting disaster.  Even his most trusted
subordinate had admitted that he deserved to be killed for what he had
done to Rog.  Vengeance was a strong emotion, as Dillon knew from
firsthand experience.  If he had been raised in a culture that honored
revenge killing, he might have hunted down those responsible for his
mother?s death.
     He dragged himself out of bed and poured himself a cup of java out
of the corner java pot.  It was important, he decided, to win back Toth?s
trust.  In all likelihood, the Nomen attache would be on the same shuttle
with him and Troy, and they would desperately need a guide on the
Borella, somebody they could trust.  He glanced at the wall chronometer
and saw that he had a centon and a half before the start of his duties.  
     Dillon walked over to the telecommunicator and touched the proper
sequence of numbers to put him in touch with the ambassador?s
subordinate.  ?I would like Attache Toth?s quarters.?
     To his surprise, the strong-willed Nomen answered, ?Toth speaking.?
     ?Toth?  This is Dillon,? he said quickly.  ?Look, I know we were
kinda rough on you yesterday, and I would like the opportunity to make it
up to you.  Could I buy you breakfast?  I promise not to dissuade you
from your Blood Hunt.?
     She held her breath during the long pause that followed. ?I
suppose,? said Toth warily.
     ?Shall we meet in the Mess Hall? Say, in twenty mili-centons??
     ?Very well.?
     He found Toth waiting for him in the busy Mess Hall, and the Nomen
attache was tapping her knife against her glass impatiently as Dillon
approached.
     ?You are two mili-centons late,? she said.
     ?Sorry.?  Dillon slipped into his chair.  ?Colonel made a flash
inspection of the squadron quarters.  What are you eating, by the way??
     Toth nodded.  ?Broiled smeck.  It was the most expensive item on the
breakfast menu.?
     ?Oh, I love broiled smeck,? said the lieutenant without hesitation. 
?Think I?ll go get me some.?  He picked up a tray, went to the chef?s
counter, and requested broiled smeck,  a sunfruit, and some more java.
     ?What did you want to see me about?? asked Toth.  ?It wasn?t really
to make up for yesterday.?
     ?As a matter of fact, it was,? said the lieutenant.  ?You?ve got to
understand that humans are a very guilt-ridden species.  We feel guilty
all the time, about everything.  Since Kar died outside our battlestar,
we feel it?s our responsibility. Troy and the others are turning the
Galactica upside-down looking for Mira.?
     Toth lifted her ridged head and regarded the human with piercing
hazelnut eyes.  ?He needn?t bother.  Kar was a Nomen, and his murderers
were Nomen.  He brought the Blood Hunt onto himself through his actions. 
You need feel no guilt, nor do you need to do anything, except stay out
of our affairs.  Our society will not punish his murderers if they were
fulfilling the Blood Hunt.  You must know that if you expect to come with
me to the Borella.?	
     Dillon blinked at the Nomen, marveling at how quickly she?d gotten
to the point of the meeting.  ?You don?t mind that Troy and I are going
with you??
     ?If your purpose is to honor the memory of Kar, how could I mind? 
If your purpose is to deprive me of my Blood Hunt, I mind a great deal. 
This will not be easy for me, because I will be accused of negligence in
letting Kar die.?
     ?That?s hardly fair.?
     ?Fair or not,? said the Nomen, ?an attache is also a bodyguard. 
That is one reason why my Blood Hunt is so important to me.  I am shamed
by his murder.?
     ?Now who?s the one feeling guilty?? asked Dillon.
     ?I am,? admitted Toth.  The man and woman ate in silence.

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

     In a decrepit compartment in the depths of Down Below, the dead man
washed his face in a shallow pan of grimy water.  He had never realized
what Paba had to go through to live down here....he would have to give
the man more cubits.
     He took a ragged bit of cloth and dried his chin and brow.  This
banishment to Down Below would be over mercifully soon, he told himself,
and he would be safely aboard the Shanavas, headed back to the Borella. 
He would arrive in disguise and attend to his business with the Rog
family, ending it once and for all.
     There was another commotion outside in the grimy corridor, but he
had learned to ignore the drunken brawls that typified life in Down
Below.  He had occasionally ventured down here for amusement, but he
would never come here again, if he could help it.  The shouts grew louder
outside the compartment, and he nearly threw open the flap to order them
to be quiet.  No, he cautioned himself, this was not the time to be
assertive.
     Suddenly, the flap flew open, and Paba skulked in, looking
distraught.  ?You must hide!? he hissed.
     ?Hide?? growled Kar.  He glanced around at the dismal shack.  ?But I
am hiding!?
     ?It?s Troy!? warned the older man, glancing over his shoulder.  ?His
warriors are making another sweep, looking for your killers.  We caused a
disturbance to delay them, but they are searching everywhere!?
     Kar grabbed his laser pistol and looked around.  There was no rear
door to the pathetic compartment, and no place to run even if he got out. 
He climbed back into the cot and clutched the weapon to his chest.
     ?Throw the blanket over me,? he ordered.  ?Tell them I am sick.?
     They both jumped when a fist pounded on the metal wall.  ?Excuse
me,? barked a voice, ?are there Nomen living in there??
     ?I am coming!? called Paba.  He threw the blanket over Kar, who
turned his back to the door.  Trembling with fear, the older Nomen
scurried out.
     Kar could hear their conversation.  ?Sorry to bother you,? began the
warrior, ?but we?re looking for undocumented Nomen in connection with
Ambassador Kar?s death.  Are you authorized to be on the Galactica??
     ?I should be,? said the Nomen.  ?My name is Paba.  I came aboard to
visit some of my warrior friends a yahren ago.  I lost all my cubits to
them in a game of pyramid, and now I?m stuck here.  You couldn?t help me
get off, could you??
     ??Fraid not.  Can I see your identicard, please.?
     Kar suffered a few tense moments while the officer presumably
checked Paba?s identicard on his handheld terminal.  ?Yes, I?ve got you
listed,? he agreed.  ?Any other Nomen in there??
     Careful, Kar thought in panic.  The wrong answer could be
disastrous.  But what was the right answer?
     ?Only my brother is here,? said Paba loudly.  ?He is very sick.?
     ?I?ll have to see him,? insisted the warrior.  ?I?ll just take a
look inside and check his identicard.  Excuse me.?
     Kar kept his back to the doorway, wondering if he could possibly be
lucky enough to encounter a Colonial warrior who didn?t know him on
sight.  Probably not.  As the only Nomen ambassador on the battlestar, he
wasn?t exactly an unknown quantity.  He could feel his heart pounding as
the warrior shuffled through the flap.
     ?Excuse me,? he said, ?we?re looking for undocumented Nomen in
connection with Ambassador Kar?s death.  Are you authorized to be on the
Galactica??
     Kar coughed and wheezed and tried to sound very sick.  He pulled the
blanket tighter around his broad shoulders with one hand and gripped his
laser pistol with the other.
     ?Did you hear what I said?? insisted the officer.  ?I need your name
and your identicard.?
     ?Moc,? wheezed Kar.  From his waistcoat he pulled out his fake
identicard and tossed it onto the floor behind him.
     ?Thank you,? said the officer sarcastically.  Kar could envision him
bending down to retrieve the card, then running it through his machine. 
Kar had no problem feigning labored breathing during the moments that
followed.
     ?You are authorized to be here,? said the officer. ? But I have to
see you to make positive identification.  Turn over, please.?
     That, decided Kar, he could not do.  He cursed himself....why hadn?t
he donned his disguise earlier?  It was too late now, and this young
warrior had put himself squarely in the way.
     ?I don?t wish to vomit all over you!? croaked Kar. ?I have a
virus....a potent one!  It is liquefying my intestines.  It would kill a
human in a day or two!?
     The officer went for his communicator to call for instructions, just
as Paba crept up behind him and smashed a crowbar on the back of his
skull.  The officer crumpled to the grimy floor in a tan heap.
     ?I hope you didn?t kill him,? said Kar, rolling to his feet.  He
bent down and retrieved his fake identicard from under the officer?s
nose.  Warm moisture on the card revealed that the officer was still
breathing.
     ?We?ll have to kill him, won?t we?? asked Paba.

     ?No,? snapped the ambassador.  ?This matter is not his concern. His
death would dishonor my actions even further. Besides, I have to come
back to the Galactica someday, after I step forward and admit to this
deception.?
     Kar brought the left heel of his boot down upon the officer?s
handheld terminal, smashing the case and grinding the chips into silicon. 
Then he bent down and ripped the communicator off the back of the man?s
belt and thrust it into the trembling hands of the old Nomen.
     ?Take his communicator away from here, so they can?t trace him by
it,? ordered Kar.  ?While you?re at it, you had better keep going, Paba. 
Clean yourself up and get off this battlestar on the first public
transport.?
     ?We?re just going to leave him here?? gasped Paba.
     Kar scowled.  ?If you want to carry him out, by my guest.?
     The old Nomen gulped, stuck the communicator into his pocket, and
scurried out.  Kar turned his attention to the unfortunate Colonial
warrior sprawled on the floor and said, ?Your captain, Troy , is very
thorough.  I must remember that.?
     The Nomen began to undress, replacing the disgusting rags Paba had
provide him with the humble robe of an acolyte.  The choice of the
acolyte had been his, in memory of the deceit employed against him by the
assassins on the Borella.
     From the pocket of his robe, Kar produced a mirror and the most
important piece of his disguise----the forehead cap.  The thin layer of
or artificial skin covered his entire forehead and matched his skin tone
perfectly except for one thing....the brow ridges were completely
different.  Where his natural brow ridge had had thick bushy black
eyebrows, the forehead cap had eyebrows that was so thin they were barely
even there.  It was surprising how much the appliance changed a Nomen?s
appearance, and he supposed it was like a human exchanging ebony hair for
golden hair.
     Then he applied another piece of his disguise, the contact lenses
that turned his eyes from their usual vibrant green to a cool blue.  A
Nomen who met him would think that his eyes were quite unusual, but tests
had shown that the effect of brown eyes on humans was just the opposite. 
They perceived a face that was bland and friendly, a forgettable face,
much like one of their own.  The final part of his disguise was an
attitude adjustment....instead of his usual arrogance and bluster there
would be a subservient timidity that required his head be lowered most of
the time.
     Kar jumped when a groan issued from the floor.  Without a moment?s
hesitation, he scooped his old clothes off the floor and threw them into
a cloth bag.  He checked to make sure he had the proper identicard and
the proper attitude as he lowered his head and ducked through the flap
hanging in the doorway.

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

CHAPTER 5
REQUIEM  FOR  AN AMBASSADOR

     ?Sergeant Blitz does not respond,? came Krumst?s report from the
Epsilon sector of Down Below.
     ?What?? answered Troy into his communicator.  Some shell-shocked
derelict in an access duct overhead was hollering just to hear the echo,
a phenomenon when a person consumed too much brain crystal.  Everyone had
shouted at the guy to be quiet, to no avail, and now two of his warriors
were on their way to grab him and take him to the Life Station. This
interruption had slowed down Troy?s search through the Beta sector of
Down Below, putting him in an even worse mood.  He was dreading all the
diplomatic schmoozing he would have to be doing in a couple of hours,a nd
he could barely hear himself worry.
     ?I said, ?Sergeant Blitz does not respond?!? shouted Krumst. ?He was
working a corridor alone, and now he?s just disappeared.  We?re trying to
trace his link, but it?s not where it should be.  I?d like permission to
give up the search for Nomen to search for Blitz.  We may need to do a
compartment-to-compartment.?
     ?Permission granted,? answered Troy.  He winced at the howling that
reverberated over his head.  ?We?re stalled here, too, so I?m coming over
there.  Troy out!?
     He turned to his warriors in Beta sector and yelled, ?As soon as you
get him quiet, keep checking Nomen until you?re relieved, or you hear
from me. I?ll be in Epsilon sector.?
     The captain jogged to get away from the din, but he didn?t find it
any quieter in the connecting corridor.  The explosion of Kar?s ship and
the rousting of those Nomen who had illegally stowed away on the
Galactica to hide from Blood Hunts had unleashed a kind of resentment in
the bowels of Down Below.  There was some incidental ranting about
heavy-handed warriors, and one old man, who claimed to have been the
Galactica?s master-tech during the Siege of Osurmy nearly one-hundred
yahrens ago, glared at him.  None of the former Colonial warriors looked
as if they particularly wanted to see him.
     With a start, Troy realized that this might not be the best time to
be wandering alone through Down Below.  Blitz was missing and not
responding, and he had been working alone, too.  The captain didn?t make
a big deal about it, but he slowed down his pace long enough to give
every doorway, corridor, and ?burn-out? a thorough inspection before he
drew close.  His hand dangled near the laser gun on his belt.
     He was beginning to get the feeling that somebody in this collection
of military dropouts knew something about Kar?s death.  something was
hidden down here, as it usually was.  Troy tried to concentrate on Mira,
the Nomen in the blood-soaked dress.  She was the key.  Could she be
brazen enough to sneak onto the Galactica and use Down Below as her base
of operations?  To kill an ambassador, you would need a place like this
to wait, to bide your time.  Hades, everybody in Down Below was biding
their time, and the cost of living was low.  The cost of dying was also
low, and she could hire accomplices if she needed them.
     There was just one thing wrong with this theory. Mira was a rather
striking-looking woman, and Nomen were completely rare in Down Below,
usually preferring not to mingle with the other Colonists anywhere in the
fleet, let alone the Galactica.  She wouldn?t blend in easily.
     Troy?s attention was snagged by a Nomen male skirting the other side
of the corridor; he was wearing a cloak that looked as if it were made
out of burlap.  The man?s head was lowered respectfully, and he moved
slowly, as with age.  Troy got the distinct impression that he knew the
Nomen, so he permitted himself a closer look and wondered whether he
should take the time to identify the man and check his identicard.  The
Nomen glanced briefly at him then lowered his head, and Troy realized
that he didn?t know him.  In fact, he seemed a harmless sort, probably
some kind of monk.  Well, Troy mused, Down Below was a good place to live
out a vow of poverty.  He let the Nomen go without hassling.
     His communicator buzzed, and he fished it out of his utility belt. 
?Troy here.?
     ?This is Krumst,? came the familiar voice.  ?We found Blitz?s
communicator in a really foul turbo-flush, but he?s not in there.  We?re
breaking up to go compartment-to-compartment now.  There are a lot of
boiler rooms and vacant chambers around here.?
     ?Buddy system,? said Troy, glancing around at sullen stares.  ?No
more singles.  I?ll be there in five mili-centons.?
     Troy signed off and continued his wary stroll through the byways of
Down Below.  The security chief knew these mean corridors as well as
anyone, and he kept to the best-lit routes, the ones closest to the exits
and turbolifts.  He couldn?t help but feel that time was getting away
from him in this investigation.  His instincts told him to clamp down,
but he had to dash off to the Borella----to turn the case over to them,
knowing they wouldn?t do a damn thing with it.  He looked around at the
squalor and knew that it wasn?t doing his mood any good.  It was time to
turn the grunge work over to his warriors and start doing his packing.
     He veered toward an exit when his communicator buzzed.  ?This is
Troy.?
     ?We?ve found Blitz,? said Krumst with relief.  ?He?s out cold, and
he may have a cracked skull....but he?s breathing.  Some med-techs are on
their way down.  We got lucky with a tip from some kids, and we found him
knocked cold in a compartment.
     ?Question those kids,? ordered Troy.  ?What exactly did they see? 
Who went into the compartment with him??
     ?We can?t find them,? said Krumst apologetically.  ?They yelled down
from the top of a balcony, pointed out the compartment, then ran off. 
We?ve been looking everywhere for them, but they?re gone.  At least we
have Blitz.  Want us to break off and look for those kids??
     Troy stopped, thinking that he was just firing his turbos no matter
what direction he ran in.  ?No, just concentrate on the Nomen.  Ask them
if they?ve seen an attractive female Nomen.?
     ?With pleasure,? said Krumst, a little too cheerfully.  ?But we?ll
keep looking for the kids, or anyone else who might?ve seen what happened
to Blitz.  Krumst out.?
     Troy rubbed his eyes, wondering what in Hades he could have been
thinking.  If the secret was in Down Below, they would never find it,
anyway.  This place was a magnetic void.  People, information,
contraband?they just sank into the muck and were never seen again. 
Better admit it, thought Troy, if anybody was going to find the murderer,
it wouldn?t be he; he was going to leave the Galactica for a few days and
be out of the loop.
     He pushed the exit door open and headed up a ramp.  As he walked, he
tapped his communicator again.  ?Could I have Talia?s quarters??
     Luck was with him, and he caught the resident civilian telepath on
the first try. ?This is Talia.?
     ?Hi, this is Captain Troy.  I?ve got a favor to ask.?
     ?Ask away,? she said. ?With Kar dead, nobody?s in much of a mood to
conduct business.  What happened to him??
     ?That?s what we?re trying to find out.  Could I call you later to do
a scan on one of my men?  Flight Sergeant Blitz. Something  happened to
him in Down Below, and he may need help remembering.?
     ?I plan to stay close to home,? promised Talia. ?The only place I?m
going is to Kar?s memorial service.?
     ?Can?t forget about that,? said Troy, snapping his fingers.  ?I?ll
call you as soon as I get a report on Blitz.  The medtechs are just
getting to him....he?s not even conscious yet.?
     ?I?ll be waiting,? said the telepath.
     Troy signed off and headed to his quarters to start packing.

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

     Lt. Dillon checked his uniform in the mirror of the Blue Squadron?s
quarters, content that it was straight as it was going to be.  He
couldn?t guess how the Nomen delegation from the Shanavas would react to
the news that Kar had been murdered, complete with self-incriminating
suspects but no one in custody.  Would they shrug? Would they go on
murderous genocidal rampages through every ship in the Fleet?  He had to
be prepared to be diplomatic whatever their reaction.
     A shadow fell over him, and he turned to see Sire Mollary strolling
to his side.  He was smiling, although his black uniform was rather
reserved and funereal, even if it did look like a braided tuxedo.  ?Good
afternoon,? he said.  ?Mind if I accompany you, Lieutenant??
     ?No, Sire, although I don?t know if I?ll be great company.  I?m not
looking forward to this memorial service, or the next one.?
     ?I should say not.?  Mollary?s smile dimmed only slightly.  ?I heard
you were going to the Borella.  Good luck on that miserable bucket of
bolts.  It?s such a dismal ship.?
     ?Yes, well, it?ll only be for a few days,? he answered.  A few
pointless days, he almost added.
     ?But you do have a suspect,? Mollary said matter-of-factly.
     Dillon glanced at the buritician and his thick crown of ebony hair. 
Was he fishing for information, or was this common knowledge by now? 
Maybe he would fish back.
     ?Who do you think killed him?? he asked.
     Mollary shrugged.  ?It wasn?t any of my colleagues.  To be honest, I
doubt very seriously his murderer was even a Colonist.  More than likely,
it was one of his own kind.  You know how volatile they are.  If you
commit even the slightest sin against them, they hunt you down and kill
you.  All these yahrens they?ve traveled with us, and we still haven?t
learned that the Nomen are beasts.  They belong on Earth----with the rest
of the primitive daggit waste!?
     He wasn?t about to reply to that slur.  A Nomen would have argued
that humans were a hundred times more brutal, almost as bad as Cylons. 
It did seem as if Mollary had found out or guessed at the motive behind
Kar?s murder.  But on this day, hearing him dump on Kar and his race was
more than he could handle.
     ?Why are you bothering to come?? he asked.
     ?Why, my dear lieutenant,? he said, feigning shock, ?I am speaking
at the memorial service.  Both myself and Siress Delenn have volunteered
to speak about the ambassador, and Commander Adama has agreed.  You
needn?t worry....during this somber occasion, I won?t sully his
reputation with the truth.?
     Dillon turned away from the ambassador, annoyed at his jovial good
humor.  It seemed that at every funeral he had ever attended, there was
always somebody in a good mood.  He darted ahead of him into the corridor
toward a nearby turbolift.  Glancing at his wrist chronometer, Dillon
realized he would arrive on Landing Bay Alpha in plenty of time to meet
the Shanavas, so he contented himself to watch the girders and floor
entryways whiz by.   Mollary respected his silence and said nothing
during the high-speed descent to the Galactica?s port-side landing bay.
     To his relief, he was frowning gravely as they stepped off the car
and made their way through a throng of people clustered around the
docking bay.  Wordlessly, Dillon and Mollary took their positions among
the other dignitaries, which included Siress Delenn, President of the
Council of Twelve, Sire Lennier, Toth, Dr. Franklin, and representatives
from the other two-hundred twenty ships in the Fleet.   Dr. Zee and
Boomer were conspicuously absent, as was Troy.  Commander Adama gave him
a brief nod and a pained smile.  It was a full day after the tragic
event, and the commander still looked stunned.
     Life never seems so fragile, thought Dillon, as when a vibrant
person like Kar suddenly disappears from this plane of existence.  One
moment he is here...an unpredictable, exasperating force in the
universe...and the next moment he is gone.  Dillon resolved to say a
short prayer for Kar, perhaps during the ride to the Borella, and to
honor him by lighting a candle.  He wiped his eye, unable to fathom how
all this grief could bring any peace to the broken Rog family.
     He spied Troy dashing across the tarmac, straightening his cape and
adjusting the necklace, both of which made up a warrior?s standard dress
uniform.  Before he could get his attention, he heard fading whine of
turbos and turned to look at the source of the sound: a petite, evilly
shocking spaceship, with both cockpit and engines set at the ship's bow
and, overall, shaped appealingly like a manta ray, coming in for a
landing.  There was a whooshing sound and four Nomen strode out of the
their shuttle?s airlock and down the ramp.  Their heavy boots tramped
along the ramp like syncopated drums.  The two men and two women were
dressed in traditional Borellian costumes, and their somber faces matched
everyone else?s.
     They saluted Toth with a fist to the chest, then they bowed stiffly
to Commander Adama.  Troy glided his way through the crowd to get closer
to his grandfather.  He was bound to want to introduce him early on in
the proceedings.
     ?And here he is,? said Adama with relief, ?my strike commander and
grandson, Captain Troy.?  He nodded and met their eyes.  Nomen, like
humans, were one of the few races who liked eye-to-eye contact,
especially upon introductions.  Considering the circumstances, he didn?t
smile.
     ?Greetings,? said the tallest Nomen, who had a cadaverous
hatchet-face profile.  ?I am Tok, of the Fourth Circle.  And here is my
mate and personal pilot, Tar.?  A husky woman nodded curtly at them. 
?Our tribal attache, Gur, and my mechanic, Kol.? He motioned to an older
pair of Nomen, female and male, respectively.  There was a flurry of
introductions as the four Nomen met Mollary, Dr. Franklin, Lennier and
Delenn.
     The Nomen blinked curiously at the diminutive president of the
Council of Twelve.  ?What I heard about you is true,? marveled Tok,
reaching out to touch Delenn?s streaked hair.  His fingers stopped and
trembled. 
     Delenn nodded sympathetically.  ?Every day, we humans find we have
more in common with non-humans than we think.  Today, we share your
grief.?
     ?Yes,? said Tok.  ?Commander Adama, we haven?t received many details
about this incident.  Could we go somewhere to talk??
     ?I was just about to suggest that.?  Adama mustered a polite smile. 
?Before the memorial service, we?re having a reception in the Great Hall,
on Theta deck.  President Delenn will be happy to show your party to the
reception, and you can come with me, Commander, for a briefing.?
     ?I insist upon going with you!? said Attache Gur.  The older woman
had seemed the grandmotherly type until her sharp voice cut through the
murmur.
     Adama smiled uneasily.  ?Very well.  My office is this way.?  He
pointed into the crowd and it magically parted, helped by the Galactican
warriors.  When the smaller party of two Colonials and three Nomen headed
for the turbolift, Delenn rustled through the crowd in her silken robe,
and the larger contingent followed her to the free food.
     Nobody noticed a hunched Nomen in a simple cloak who walked up the
ramp and mingled with the crew of the Shanavas.

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


     In Adama?s office, they stood in silence as they watched the visual
replay of the wrenching explosion that blasted Kar?s transport into space
dust.  There was very little to say, thought Dillon, except that if it
wasn?t a bomb, it was a very faulty energizer that should have been
discovered during routine checks.  Tok?s face never betrayed the
slightest emotion, but Gur could be heard muttering under her breath.
     When the vidlog ended, Commander Adama held up his hand to quiet the
murmurs.  ?Before we jump to any conclusions, I have one more thing to
show you.  This is taken from a data crystal that was discovered on
Ambassador Kar?s desk after his death.?
     With that insufficient warning, the commander played the visual of
Mira, daughter of Rog, vowing to go on a Blood Hunt after the dead man.
Both Tok and Gur watched intently as the young Nomen woman slit her scalp
and let the blood flow down her face.  When it was over, Gur was
breathing so heavily that she had to find a chair to sit in.  
     ?So that is it,? said Tok with bitter acceptance.  ?Naturally, when
we heard of the ambassador?s death, we feared the worst.  We feared that
his murder was politically motivated, which would bring terrible
repercussions.  Now we know it was a personal matter.?
     ?Under our law,? said Troy, ?if we catch the murderer, we must bring
him before a tribunal.?
     Tok sighed and looked at Toth for help.  ?Have you explained The
Code to them??
     ?I have,? Toth said dryly.  ?As always, they are stubborn in their
beliefs.?
     ?I have studied Colonial law,? a cracked voice broke in.  All eyes
turned to the older woman, Gur, as she rose from her chair.  ?Under
Colonial law, the Blood Hunt would be called ?justifiable termination.??
     ?I hate to correct you,? said Adama, ?but that?s something entirely
different.  Justifiable termination is when a person is attacked and
fighting for his life.  This is a revenge killing, pure and simple.  We
call it premeditated murder.?
     ?Adama, be reasonable,? said Gur. ?You Colonists are not pacifists. 
You have many instances when the taking of a life is
permitted?justifiable termination, warfare, capital punishment.  What is
the difference between the Blood Hunt and your justice, where you catch a
murderer, try him, and execute him??
     Adama shook his head and tried not to look exasperated.  ?In one
case, there?s been a fair tribunal that removes all doubt that the
accused could be innocent. In the other case, it?s vigilante justice,
which we don?t condone.?
     ?When a Nomen embarks on a Blood Hunt, there is no doubt,? said the
old woman.  ?The Code forbids it unless there is certainty, and the end
result is the same.?
     Adama sighed.  ?Then it?s true, even if the Rog family is guilty,
nothing will happen to them??
     Tok glanced at the commander and smiled.  ?No, not exactly.  The
ambassador had many friends.  The Rog family knew they could be
sacrificing their lives to uphold  The Code.  We appreciate your
diligence and concern in this matter, and after seeing this crystal, I am
sorry that you must send a delegation to our humble ship.?
     ?We wish to go...to honor Kar,? said Dillon.
     Tok nodded in a courtly manner.  ?Understood. It will be our honor
to transport you.  Now, if you?ll excuse us, I think we should join the
others at the reception.?
     ?Come,? said Toth, motioning toward the door, ?I?ll show you the way
to the reception.?  With that, the three Nomen filed out of the captain?s
office.
     Adama?s lips thinned.  ?I wish we could catch the murderer on the
Galactica.?
     ?I sent you a report about one of my warriors,? said Troy.  ?I don?t
know if it?s related to this, but Sergeant Blitz had his head bashed in
while we were sweeping for Nomen in Down Below.  He?s in a coma, but the
doc thinks he?ll be all right.  Somebody didn?t want to be carded.?
     ?I read your report,? answered the commander.  ?Don?t worry, Troy.
I?ll follow through while you?re gone, and we?ll catch them, if they?re
here.?
     Dillon said, ?Big ?if.??
     ?Oh, one final note,? Adama bowed his head apologetically.  ?You
can?t take any weapons to the Borella or aboard their shuttle.  In
exchange for that concession, I got you diplomatic immunity.?
     ?Great,? said Troy, brushing back his short-cropped hair.  ?We?ll be
unarmed and unable to do anything if we meet the murderer face-to-face.
In fact, she can brag about killing Kar if she feels like it!?
     Adama straightened.  ?Let?s do the only thing we can for Kar....show
him how much we miss him.?

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

     The Great Hall, actually a small amphitheater on the Theta deck, had
seen a number of plays and concerts, recalled Dillon, but it was doubtful
whether it had seen any greater drama than the memorial service for Kar. 
Mourners and the curious were packed in, clogging the aisles.  He could
see Troy and some warriors trying to keep the aisles clear, but it was a
losing battle.  At least they managed to keep a row of seats roped off in
the front, and that was where Dillon was sitting with Commander Adama,
the ambassadors, and the visiting Nomen.
     The doors to the theater slammed shut, and the crowd began to quiet. 
From the seat beside him, Commander Adama rose to his feet and scanned
the audience.  When he was content that they were finally settling in, he
strode to the stage and stepped behind the podium.  His commanding
presence brought the audience to a gradual hush.
     ?Thank you for coming,? he began, ?to the memorial service to
Ambassador Kar of the Nomen people.  I know the shocking and sudden
nature of his death has left all of us feeling stunned.  We wish we could
do something to turn back the clock, to prevent it from happening.  But
we can?t.  And we can?t become obsessed with the tragedy....we must move
on to our real purpose in gathering here this day.  We have come here to
remember Kar?s contributions to our flight from the Cylons, and our
discovery of Earth.
     Adama cleared his throat and let his gaze fall on Sire Mollary. 
?Kar once said that serving on the Galactica was a great honor because he
was facing his enemies.  But I don?t think even his enemies considered
him the enemy.  Underneath his warrior exterior, he was a peacemaker, a
person who was helping us search for reasons to have harmony rather than
discord in the Fleet.  I will not claim that Kar and I were old friends
or knew each other well, but I always felt that Kar was trying to make
things better.?
     The commander bowed his head.  ?Humans often say a prayer in a
situation like this, which is a way of talking to our creator, so you?ll
excuse me if I indulge.  Oh Lords of Kobol, we wish Kar a swift journey
to the afterlife, in whatever form he believed.  We wish a minimum of
grief to those he leaves behind and we hope that you, our ancient lords,
can heal the call of revenge in our hearts.  Amen.?
     ?Amen,? Dillon repeated, with an almost sarcastic intonation.
     Adama looked momentarily nervous as he realized what was coming
next.  ?Being an ambassador to the Council of Twelve meant being the
point for his entire culture, and Kar could not have done so, had he not
been unique among his people.  Kar had few peers on this battlestar, but
we are fortunate to have two of them with us today.  Before President
Delenn speaks, Sire Mollary has a few words.?
     There were shocked murmurs throughout the hall, and the Nomen
delegation glared at Mollary as he ambled importantly toward the podium. 
He smiled knowingly, which came out looking like a sneer.
     ?You do not know my home colony,? he began, ?if you think we respect
for our enemies. For example, we have enormous respect for the Cylon
Alliance, even though they have vowed the destruction of all humans
throughout the galaxy.  And we respect the brutish Nomen, as well.  But
that is a discussion for another day.  In fact, that is a discussion I
often had with my departed enemy, Kar.  There was nothing we agreed upon,
yet we understood each other as few friends do.  We knew the difficulties
of our position on this battlestar....the way we were expected to be wise
and brilliant, when we were only mortal.  Both of us felt our allegiance
to the Fleet mixed with a strange sense of belonging to something bigger;
our lonely quest for the planet Earth.   As few others can say, he was my
equal....this Kar of the Third Circle....and I will miss him.?
     Mollary shrugged fatalistically.  ?The Nomen will send another, but
he will not be Kar.  I will miss seeing the veins pop out of his neck
when he is shouting at me, or the way he sputtered when he did not get
his way.  The next ambassador to the Council of Twelve will certainly not
yell or sputter as zestfully as Kar.?  The buritician touched his fist to
his chest in the Nomen salute.  ?Good-bye, my enemy.?
     Like several people in the audience, Dillon was sniffling, and he
had to fish a handkerchief out of his pocket.  This memorial service was
turning out to be just what he feared most, a heartfelt tribute to a
person who had gone before his time.  Kar had died just when he was
making his greatest contributions...all to satisfy a primitive lust for
revenge.  He wanted to yell, to curse, but he couldn?t.  So instead he
cried.
     Dillon looked up to see Delenn sweep across the stage and stand next
to the podium, which would have dwarfed her had she stood behind it.  Her
locks of auburn hair gave her a softer appearance than she?d had before
her election to the presidency; it added to her beatific presence. 
Today, however, her fragile face looked angry and determined.
     ?The death of Kar is an outrage!? said Delenn, drawing hushed
breaths from the crowd.  ?I came here to remember my friend, but I don?t
truly want to do that.  Instead, I want my friend to be alive, as he
always was.  I do not feel like forgiving his murderers and moving on,
although I know that is the prudent thing to do.  You must excuse me
while I vent my outrage first, because my friend, Kar, is not here to do
it for himself.?
     The Nomen squirmed in their chairs, and Delenn apparently took some
comfort in that.  ?I was born five yahrens after the destruction of the
Colonies, in the dingy hold of a ruby-hulled cargo ship.  In those days,
the Fleet was just a rag-tag collection of assorted ships, some state of
the art and stout, others overage and dangerous.  This rag-tag fleet had
no personality, no identity, not much chance to survive.  When I went
into politics and was elected to the Council of Twelve, I met Commander
Adama, Ambassador Kar, Captain Troy, Colonel Boomer, Dr. Zee and Sire
Mollary. Before too long I was elected president of the Council of
Twelve----and my purpose in life became clear to me.  It is not an easy
thing to believe in myth, a legend, but that is what I was eventually
able to convince the people of the Fleet to do.  Kar, though not human
himself, firmly believed in Earth, and he, the Lords of Kobol be thanked,
lived to see its discovery.  This was a great inspiration to me and many
of us who would otherwise have rebelled against Adama?s leadership.  I
took strength from Kar, and I am weakened now that he is gone.?
     Delenn?s anger gave way to a nostalgic smile.  ?Kar could be
belligerent and difficult, but I remember him for his moments of
kindness, openness, and generosity.  For him not to be here anymore....in
the Council meetings or at other receptions....is unthinkable.  I have a
sense of overwhelming loss, when I know that I should be feeling
acceptance.  So let us acknowledge the fact that Kar has transformed,
while we have remained the same.?
     Delenn folded her hands and looked at the Nomen.  ?The candle is a
universal symbol of the light that even one small soul can cast in this
lifetime.  Would you permit a small procession of candles??
     Tok nodded, and the lights were dimmed.  Lennier stepped forward,
accompanied by six priests, each bearing a long, tapered candle.  Lennier
waved a spark over each candle, and they seemed to burst into flame
simultaneously.  The lights were dimmed further, and the candlebearers
moved in a circle around the stage while a melancholy flute sounded from
somewhere in the balcony.  The procession was simple and unhurried, six
white lights floating through the darkness while the flute mourned aloud
for everyone.
     After what seemed like a brief but healing time, the houselights
were brought back up, and the six priests and their candles formed a line
leading out the door.  Despite the pandemonium that ensued when everyone
was entering the theater, the somber audience filed out in respectful
silence, gazing at the candles as they passed them.  Dillon swallowed
back a lump in his throat, thinking that the Galactica was probably
strong enough to survive the passing of Kar, but it was still a
tremendous blow.
     ?Do you know anything about an author named Mark Twain?? he heard a
voice ask.
     He turned to see Sire Mollary looking expectantly at him, a
half-smile on his face.
     ?Our reporter friend Susan Ivanvoa mentioned him to me once, but I?m
hardly an authority on Earth?s writers,? he admitted.
     ?Too bad,? said Mollary.  ?You could enjoy this more.?
     Before he could question him further about the odd literary
allusion, Tok stepped between them.  ?We leave in forty-six
mili-centons,? he told him.  ?We expect punctuality.?
     ?You?ll get it,? said the lieutenant, ?as long as you have some java
and ambrosa on board.?
     ?Ambrosa is out of the question; we Nomen are forbidden to touch
spirits.  But we recently added java to our stores,? replied the Nomen
with a slight smile.  He started to follow Toth out the rear exit, then
stopped.  ?I suggest you bring both warm and cool clothing.?
     ?I?ve done my research,?he assured him.  ?I?m prepared for
anything.?
     Tok gave him a curt bow.  Several Colonial warriors stepped in and
escorted the Nomen delegation through the backstage area.  Dillon turned
to look for Mollary, and he saw his spiked hair cutting through the sea
of heads like the dorsal fin of a shark.  He was too far away to catch up
with him, so he let his eyes wander.  Finally, he spied Troy, leaning
over the railing of the balcony and looking down on the mourners like a
vengeful angel.
     He whipped out his communicator.  ?Dillon to Troy.?
     ?I see you,? said the captain with a wave.  ?What?s up??
     ?I just wanted to tell you that we leave for the Borella in
forty-five mili-centons.?
     ?Do you have any idea what we?re getting ourselves into?? he asked
with concern.
     ?No more than I did on our first visit to Earth,? he admitted. ?But
I did hear one bit of good news.?
     ?What?s that??
     ?They?ve got java on board.?
     ?But at night I expect hot chocolate,? said the captain.  I?ve got a
million things to do before we leave, but I?ll be there.  Troy out.?

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

     The thick dust of time covered the copper-colored flooring, the
pockmarked corridor walls, and finally found a hatch to overwhelm.  Mira,
daughter or Rog, paused before the hatch.  The barely-legible sign beside
it read simply ?Vee-Tar.?  As she pressed the key that opened the hatch,
she laughed at the irony that such a filthy compartment, whose residents
had been squeezed dry of all life and hope yahrens earlier, could bear
the name of the spark of life.
     The walls of the colossal cargo area dubbed the Hold of the Vee-Tar
were covered in graffiti.  Burnt odors from unknown sources suffused the
Hold, stinging her eyes and her nostrils.  The lighting system hadn?t
worked in over twenty yahrens, so the only light in the Hold came from
clay pots that hung from the wall fixtures, casting shadow races on the
dilapidated crates and shanties where the people lived.  Mira shuddered,
knowing this drained compartment of the Borella was her home, worse than
a common tribesman?s.
     ?Hurry!? she called into the air, wondering where her lazy brother,
Kog, was hiding now.  Kog was a great disappointment to her, and found
she was wasting too much energy keeping him focused on the Blood Hunt. 
He still acted as if life was going to change, get better of its own
accord, and she knew it was not.
     ?Mira!  Mira!? he screamed, stumbling out of the semi-darkness.
     She drew her compact laser pistol, thinking Kog was being chased. 
When the Nomen saw that her younger brother was laughing and waving some
bits of newspad, her sharp features bent into a scowl.  ?Stop using my
name!?
     ?Do you see what this is!? he said, shoving the newspad in her face. 
?Kar is dead!  Kar died in an explosion launching from the Battlestar
Galactica!?
     Mira grasped the sheets out of his hands and stared at them, each
symbol registering on the smooth face below the notorious forehead ridge. 
Her head throbbed, and her lips twisted back.  Kar the destroyer was
dead!  Their hated foe, killer of their father, defiler of their name,
and object of their Blood Hunt----he was dead.  Killed in a suspicious
explosion. Clearly, somebody had gotten to him, but who?
     She shouted at the ceiling, ?Why wasn?t it me??
     ?Hush, sister.  Let the fates have some play here,? Kog cautioned
her.
     ?Who gave you these?? she demanded, flashing the newspads in his
face.
Kog pointed innocently behind them.  ?A man down there, he was giving
them away. Several people seemed to know about it already.?
     Mira had already leveled her laser gun, and was scanning the shadows
when she heard a voice spring from inside a shanty.  ?Don?t be afraid, my
dear,? it crooned.
     She knew this disembodied voice was a trick....some said the Thenta
Society had learned it from the Hidiu mystics of Leo?but the assassins
had made it their own.  The young Nomen woman moved in a crouch with her
pistol drawn, trying to find the source of the voice.  She had reason to
hate the guild, and they her----but she knew that if they wanted her
dead, they would strike without issuing a warning.
     ?You haven?t come to kill us, have you?? she asked.
     ?Not at this time, my lady,? said the voice.  ?Come to the nearest
support pole.?
     Kog was slinking away from the confrontation, but Mira grabbed him
by his shabby collar and thrust him against the wall.  He hit the
pockmarked steel head on and moaned as he massaged a knot on his head.
     ?You picked up the message,? she told him.  ?So you go with me.?
     Mira dragged him the rest of the way and threw him against one side
of the pole, while she leaned against the other.  She holstered her
weapon and watched the light in the clay pot hanging from a hook in the
pole flicker and fluctuate.  ?We?re here!? she shouted into the air.
     A slim man wrapped in black shawls eased out of the shadows and
slumped against the pole beside her brother, who gasped.  Slinking back,
Kog managed to get control of himself and face this apparition.  The
black shawls covered every part of him, including his face.  
     ?You?ve been making trouble for us,? said the man in a cultured bass
voice.  ?Telling people that we don?t fulfill our contracts.?
     ?Well, you don?t!? Mira spat at the floor.  ?The Thenta Society is a
sham, and that?s all I tell them.?
     The man swaddled in black flinched for a moment, but settled beside
the pole.  ?You cannot say that anymore.  We have fulfilled our contract
with your father.  Kar is dead.?
     Mira narrowed her hazelnut eyes at the assassin, knowing that he and
death were old friends.     ?Is this true?  Kar is truly dead??
     ?Go to Jasba Section,? said the man.  ?Find any public viewer.  You
will see, Kar is dead.  The newspads do not lie.?
     Mira breathed deeply and sank against the ancient pole.  ?Then it is
over?? she asked in disbelief.
     ?Not for you,? said the assassin.  ?Many suspect you because of your
brave but indiscreet Blood Hunt.  Next time, leave this work to
professionals.?
     Mira glared at him.  As much as she despised the cold-blooded
scavengers of the Thenta Society, she was ready to accept the fact that
they had fulfilled their contract.
     Still, the Nomen woman straightened her shoulders and declared, ?I
am proud of my Blood Hunt.?
     ?Of course you are, my dear, but the humans of the Fleet do not
appreciate the Blood Hunt as much as we do.  Kar also has many friends,
important ones.  Our advice to you is this...neither admit nor deny your
hand in his murder, and do not mention us.  Your Blood Hunt is well
known, and all will come to accept it.?
     Mira bowed.  ?I will do as you wish. From now on, I will speak
highly of your fellowship.?
     The black-shrouded figure bowed in return.  ?Captain Troy and
Lieutenant Dillon are coming to the Borella to answer the Nomen Council?s
questions.  We will stay close to them and watch them, in case they
interfere too much.  As of now, our business with you is concluded.?
     With that, the black-shrouded man stepped from the light of the
hanging clay pot and into the semi-darkness, which accepted him without
hestitation.

CHAPTER 6
VARTON 

     Captain Troy stayed behind in the theater balcony, watching the
mourners depart after the memorial service for Kar.  He wasn?t the
sentimental type, except when it came to old friends and young ladies,
but the memorial service had been oddly touching.  Even Mollarly had
risen to the occasion.  As Delenn had said in her address, it was easy to
be angry and deny what had happened, and it was much harder to accept the
fact that Kar was gone.  It was like a whole section of the battlestar
was suddenly missing.
     He leaned over the balcony again, wondering if there was a murderer
in the well-behaved crowd.  The warrior had no idea anybody was watching
him.
     ?Hi, my name is Varton!? crowed a loud voice directly behind him. 
The security chief whirled around to see a human male approaching him
from the back of the balcony.  He was a portly fellow dressed in a
dramatic jade green velvet hood and cloak, with marmalade patterns on the
back. Sweat glistened on his florid face.  He held out a pudgy hand as if
it was the most important thing in the world that he shake Troy?s hand.
     ?Do I know you?? asked Troy.
     ?No, Captain, you do not,? answered the man cheerfully, but that
didn?t prevent him from grabbing Troy?s hand and yanking for all he was
worth.  ?My name is Varton, but I already said that.  You?re Troy, strike
commander of this mighty battlestar, am I right??
     ?That?s hardly classified information,? growled the warrior.
?Listen, I?ve got to leave the Galactica soon, and I?m busy.?  He glanced
down and saw Talia filing out of the amphitheater with the others, which
reminded him of another matter still up in the air....Sergeant Blitz.  He
demanded of his chubby acquaintance, ?Do you think you could get to the
point??
     ?It?s quite simple, sir.? He stood on his tiptoes to whisper to the
taller man.  ?Rumor has it that you?re going to the Borella aboard the
Shanavas. ˙I?d like to tag along, if I could.  I?ve been trying to get
there for months, and I was hoping you?d prevail upon the Nomen or
Commander Adama to get me aboard.?
     Troy gaped at the man. ?You?ve got a lot of nerve.  If you know all
of that, then you also know that we?re an official delegation.  The
Shanavas is not just any inter-fleet shuttle----you can?t just buy a
ducket on her.?
     Varton laughed nervously.  ?That is one reason why I must appeal to
you, sir.  I?ve managed to come this far----only just arrived----but I
find myself short of funds for a brief jaunt to the Borella.  However,
I?ve got excellent lines of credit there, plus many business associates
who will vouch for me.?
     ?You?ve been to the Borella?? asked Troy, sounding doubtful.
     ?Been to the Borella, sir?  Why, I lived on it for ten yahrens! 
Have a wife there, I do. Well, she?s an ex-wife by now, I should imagine. 
Darling little thing, except when she used to get mad at me.?  He
whispered again.  ?Don?t marry a Nomen unless you can stand a woman with
a temper.?
     Now Troy was intrigued.  ?I didn?t think they married Colonists.?
     ?They usually don?t.  Not very often, anyway,? admitted Varton. 
?The number of Colonists living among the Nomen is very small, but a
family with too many daughters might see fit to marry one off to a
Colonist who was prosperous.?
Troy scowled at the man?s sly grin, but he was still intrigued. ?What
kind of business do you do among the Nomen??
     ?Technology trader,? answered Varton.  ?The Nomen are crazy for
anything not of their culture.  Toys, kitchen goods, communications....?
     ?Weapons,? suggested Troy.
     The man bristled.  ?Nothing illegal, I can assure you. In fact, had
I not been so scrupulous, I would have avoided the business reversals
that have kept me away from the Borella for so long.?
     Troy rubbed his chin.  ?You know, it might not be a bad idea to have
a guide along, somebody who knows the interior.  We?ve been summoned to
answer questions about Kar?s death, but we don?t want to be held up in a
bureaucratic nightmare for days on end.?
     ?I still have some friends in high places,? Varton assured him. ?I
could save you considerable time and help you to avoid many pitfalls.?
     ?You would be part of the official delegation...no weapons, no funny
business....and you would have to attend a memorial service for Kar.?
     Varton rubbed his chubby hands together.  ?I would be honored to
attend a service for Ambassador Kar, whom I met many yahrens ago.  What a
tragic loss.?
     ?Yeah.? The warrior tapped some buttons on his communicator and
spoke into the device.  ?Troy to the bridge.?
     ?Ensign Lacammo on duty,? came a sprightly female voice.  ?Go ahead,
Captain Troy.?
     ?I would like the complete records on a human male who?s here on the
Galactica. He goes by the name of Varton.  I also want to know what his
qualifications to be on the Galactica are, how long he?s been here, and
what his financial status is.  And I want to know if there is any record
of him living on the freighter Borella.?
     Troy smiled at his new friend, who seemed to be sweating just a
little bit more.  ?You only have half a centon for this, so get back to
me as soon as you can.?
     ?Yes, sir.  Bridge out.?
     Varton chuckled and tugged at his collar.  ?Your talents are wasted,
Troy.  You belong in Council Security, not the Colonial Service.?
     ?I?m only trying to make sure you are you say you are. I?ll talk to
the commander and do the best I can.  Meet me in forty-three mili-centons
in Launch Bay Alpha, and be ready to go.?
     ?Yes, sir!? said Varton, snapping to attention and thrusting his
stomach out.
     Troy winced at the man?s eagerness and strode to the steps leading
down from the balcony.  He didn?t feel as if he?d made much of a
commitment, because if Varton?s story didn?t check out, he wasn?t going
anywhere?except maybe to the brig.  If by some miracle Varton did check
out, he could be a valuable ally, a human who knew his way around the
Nomen freighter.  Troy wanted to trust Toth to be their guide, but he was
afraid that the attache had her own agenda.
     Maybe if he was lucky, thought the warrior, there would be a break
in the investigation before he had to board the Shanavas. Maybe they?d
find Mira in Down Below, or Blitz would jump up in bed and identify both
his assailant and the murderer.  Get real, thought Troy, knowing that he
would never have a lucky streak like that.
     He stopped in the corridor and watched the last of the mourners, who
were breaking up into small groups and going about their business.  After
a moment, the captain tapped a few keys on his communicator and said,
?Troy to Life Station.?
     ?Franklin here,? came the response.  ?Are you checking up on your
officer??
     ?Yeah, Doc.  Has Blitz regained consciousness??
     ?I just got back from the service.  Let me check.? A mili-centon
later, Franklin reported back. ?Blitz gained consciousness briefly, but
he became agitated and we sedated him.  His vital signs look good, and
he?s responding well to the cardiacrejuvination vitalizer, but you
can?t be too careful with head trauma.?
     ?Can we wake him up for questioning?? asked Troy.
The doctor spoke in a cool tone.  ?I think he?s several centons away from
that.  Perhaps tomorrow.?
     ?Thanks,? said Troy.  ?I?ll be off-ship by then, so could you
contact Commander Adama as soon as Blitz is well enough to be questioned
about his attack??
     ?I?ll see to it.  Anything else??
     ?Nope.  Troy out.?  He tapped his communicator again.  ?Troy to
Krumst.?
     ?I read you, Captain.?
     ?Any luck down there?? he asked, expecting the worst.
     ?Afraid not. We?ve checked every Nomen in sight, and we?ve found a
handful with expired identicards and no authorization to be on the
Galactica.  But we?ve made positive ID on all of them, and none of them
are recent arrivals to our battlestar.  No one seems to have any
connection to the Rog family.?
     ?What about the attack on Blitz?  Anyone see anything??
     ?No, sir.  But then, nobody ever sees anything down here.?
     Troy frowned at his little device.  ?All right, Krumst, call it off
for now.  I?m off the ship in about forty mili-centons, but there is one
thing I want you to follow up on.?
     ?Sure, Troy.?
     ?When Blitz comes to, question him.  If he can?t remember who hit
him----and people often lose their memory after a head injury----contact
Talia.  She can do a scan on him and help us fill in the blanks.  She?s
already agreed to do this, so all you have to do is call her.?
     ?Gotcha.  Good luck among those Nomen.?
     ?Yeah,? said Troy.  ?Out.?
     After stopping at his quarters to pick up his duffel bag and rescue
his heavy coat from mothballs, Troy headed toward Commander Adama?s
quarters.  He was about ten metrons from the commander?s door when his
communicator buzzed.
     ?Troy here!? he snapped in the little box in his hand.
     ?This is Ensign Lacammo on the bridge, and I have that data for you
on Varton.  Want me to upload to your link??
     Troy checked the time and saw that he was running out of it.  ?Send
it to Commander Adama?s terminal.  I?m just outside his office.  Troy
out.?
     Be there, grandfather, he muttered to himself as he pressed the
chime.  To his relief, a voice called, ?Enter!?
     Troy ducked through the door and was relieved to see that Adama was
alone in his quarters.  He was peering at his wall monitors, a bemused
expression on his face.
     The commander barely looked up.  ?Hello, Troy.  Ready for your
visit??
     ?Not really, grandfather,? admitted the warrior.  ?I hope I haven?t
caught you at a bad time, but this will only take a moment.?
     Adama frowned at his monitors.  ?Would you believe I?m looking at
Nomen legal texts?  Most of them are centuries old and predate the
landing of the first Colonial humans on Borella. It seems as if they
prefer debating the meaning of these old laws, most of which are
irrelevant to a spacefaring society, to writing new laws.  Their beliefs
are mired in the past.  This Blood Hunt business reminds me of Caprica a
few centuries back, when it was legal to fight duels to the death.?
     Troy stepped to the side of Adama?s desk.  ?Sir, I was expecting a
download from the bridge, and I had them send it directly to you. It
should be coming through on your screens now. Could I take a look??
     Adama indicated the wall monitors with a sweep of his hand.  ?Go
ahead.?
     Troy watched both monitors as the information and a likeness
blossomed on them.  He began to read aloud, ?Subject?s identity accurate. 
True name is Varton.  Space born of Piconese  parents.?  He stopped and
pointed to a window of text.  ?This is interesting, grandfather----he?s
clearly been slumming around just about every ship in the fleet, but you
can see that the freighter Borella was his legal residence for almost ten
yahrens.  He was registered with the census agency and the Inter-fleet
Trade Commission.  Yeah, he seems legit.?
     ?Do you suspect this man of Kar?s murder?? asked Adama.
     ?No, I don?t.  This may sound crazy, but I would like to take Varton
with us to the Borella, to be a sort of guide.?
     Adama blinked at him.  ?Do you know this man well??
     ?No, I?ve only just met him.  He came up to me after the service and
said he wanted to get back to the Borella.  He agreed to be my guide if I
arranged passage on the Shanavas.?
     ?That?s not one of our shuttles, Troy.  I can?t order them to take a
total  stranger on board.?
 The warrior cleared his throat.  ?Begging your pardon, grandfather, but
it?s your prerogative to pick the people for the official delegation.  I
don?t remember volunteering, but here I am.  You could put Varton on the
list. Since he?s married to a Nomen, he is sort of a pioneer in
Nomen-Human relationships.?
     ?How long has Varton been aboard the Galactica?? In answer to his
own question, the commander glared at his wall monitors and said, ?He
just arrived here two centons ago, so he couldn?t have been involved in
Kar?s death.  He didn?t waste any time getting to you, did he??
     ?No, sir. I don?t intend to trust him with my life....all I know is
that he fell into my lap, and I?d feel like a fool if I didn?t take him. 
He said he was broke.....any record on his financial status??
     Adama gazed at his screen.  ?None, I fear.  But look at all the
ships this man has visited----the Rising Star, the Orion, the Foul
Asteroid, the Tritios, not to mention ten yahrens aboard the Borella.
˙Look here and here ?there are lots of gaps where we don?t know where
he?s been.  If you take this man with you, he?ll have to be your
responsibility.  I?ll hold you personally accountable for his actions.?
     ?Yes, sir,? Troy answered gravely, wondering if he was taking leave
of his senses.  He had absolutely no reason to trust Varton, just a hunch
that providence had dealt him a pyramid capstone in a jade green cloak.
     Commander Adama pressed a button on his desk.  ?This is Commander
Adama to the Nomen shuttle Shanavas. I would like to speak to Mr. Tok, if
he is available.?
     The data that had been previously scrolling by on the wall monitors
was replaced by a view of the cockpit of the Nomen shuttle Shanavas. ˙The
lights were dimmed drowsily, as if takeoff were centons away instead of
ten mili-centons.  Tok sat down in front of the screen, and his face was
half-bathed in shadows.
     ?Yes, Adama?? he said.
     ?Mr. Tok, I wish to include one more dignitary on the list of
delegates from the Galactica.  His name is Varton, and he?s a civilian.?
     Now Tok sat up abruptly in his chair and scowled at Adama.  ?This is
highly irregular, adding a passenger only ten mili-centons before we
launch.?
     Adama smiled pleasantly.  ?We are only trying to show our respect to
Ambassador Kar by sending a worthy delegation.  I can upload to you
Varton?s records, so you can see for yourself that he?s a fitting symbol
of the cooperation between our peoples.?
     ?Very well,? muttered the Nomen dignitary.  ?I trust this will not
delay our departure.  Out.?  He punched a button and the monitors went
blank.
     In the dimly-lit cockpit of the shuttle Shanavas, Kar sharp chin
jutted out of the shadows.  ?Idiot!  What do mean bringing a complete
stranger on board??
     ?I could do nothing else,? said Tok.  ?A three-person delegation is
still small.  I was in no position to refuse the Colonials.  Believe me,
they have been quite genuine in their grief over your demise.  The
memorial service was heartwarming.  When this is all over, my friend, you
will have to tell me why you have taken such a desperate action.?
     Kar sat stiffly in his chair, his lips tight.  Dead men have little
influence, he was beginning to find out.
     ?Data download from Commander Adama is now complete, announced Tar.
     ?You?d better get below,? Tok told Kar, a note of dismissal in his
voice.
     Kar wanted to protest, but his power and prestige were evaporating
before his eyes.  No longer was he Kar of the Third Circle.  He was a
corpse....a nonentity.  His lot was to be hidden away, hunted, and now
ignored.  When he had hastily devised his scheme, he had never realized
the jeopardy in which he was placing himself.  He had assumed that his
associates would treat him as they always had, realizing that he was
still Kar.  But Kar was officially dead; he had no strings to pull and no
teeth to his bite.  He was dependent upon the kindness of friends, and
they seemed more curious than helpful.
     He would try to arrange being discovered floating in space, and
still alive, as soon as his mission to the Borella was over.  And he
would conclude that business as quickly as possible.
     Kar marched down the ladder that would take him down to a small
closet.  His only furniture in there would be a modest bed, comfortable
but not exactly luxurious.

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

     Apollo was ambushed just as he was coming on the turbolift in Launch
Bay Alpha.  Dillon stopped him with a palm to the chest and peered at him
with eyes that were darker and more intense than usual.
     ?What?s this I hear about some civilian coming with us?? he
demanded.
     ?You mean Varton,? Troy said sheepishly.  ?He?s a stranger to us,
but he?s no stranger to the Borella.  We?ll need someone who knows their
way around.?
     ?What about Toth?  I had breakfast with her this morning....we ate
broiled smeck in the Mess Hall, for Sagan?s sake!  She?s agreed to help
us.?
     Troy scowled.  ?Until she catches sight of Mira and goes for her
throat.  I want to get in and out with the least amount of trouble, and I
think Varton will be a big help.?
     He struggled with his duffel bag and his heavy coat while trying to
check the time.  Frak!  He didn?t want to go someplace where he had to
wear a coat, where the temperature shot up and down the thermometer like
a yo-yo.  He liked it on the Galactica, where the life-support and
gravity systems were set at the best levels to accommodate humans.
     Dillon hefted his own luggage and bulky jacket.  ?We?d better keep
moving.?
     ?Captain Troy!? bellowed a voice.  They turned to see a squat man in
a jade green cloak waddling toward them, dragging a huge suitcase in each
hand.
     Dillon gave Troy a raised eyebrow. ?Don?t tell me that?s him??
     ?All right, I?ll let him tell you.? Troy managed a smile.
     His round face beaming, Varton dropped his suitcases in front of
Dillon.  ?I?m Varton,? he said proudly, ?and you must be Lieutenant
Dillon.  This is a real pleasure, yes indeed.?
     Troy?s wingman frowned darkly.  ?I wasn?t consulted about you coming
with us, and I?m not sure I agree with it.  This is a delicate mission,
and we may need to be tactful.?  He glanced at Troy.  ?On the other hand,
neither one of us knows how to be tactful.  How about you??
     Varton dabbed a handkerchief at his moist forehead.  ?I don?t know
how tactful I am, but I do know Borellian Nomen.  With them, you have to
deal from a position of strength.  If they sense weakness, they?ll chew
you up and spit you out.  Have you got anything to bargain with??
     Troy looked at Dillon and shook his head. ?No, all we?ve got is a
data crystal, some vidlogs, and a desire to get home.  If we?re sticking
to the truth, why should we have to bargain??
     ?One hand washes the other. That?s a Colonial phrase, but the Nomen
could have invented it.?  Varton picked up his suitcases and grinned.  ?I
hate to be late!  Shall we be going??
     With Varton plunging ahead in the lead, the Galactican delegation
made their way to the tarmac, where the Shanavas rested.  Waiting for
them was Toth, who gave the three humans a disdainful look.
     ?I hope you aren?t turning this into a circus,? she said.
     Nonplussed, Varton looked at her and smiled.  ?The flower of
Borellian femininity is the thorn.?
     Toth blinked at him in surprise. ?Where did you learn that??
     ?From my lovely wife, Hannah.  Well, that?s what I called her; her
real name is Ona.  She was a great student of the Nomen Vopa.  I have
always been attracted to powerful women, Nomen women.?  He shrugged.
?It?s a terrible weakness.  I cannot wait to return to the ship of thorny
women.?
     Toth laughed, a rich ribald sound.  ?Under the thorn lies the
softest fruit,? she added.
?How well I know,? agreed Varton.
     Troy and Dillon looked blankly at one another, neither one of them
being an expert on Nomen double entendres.  On the plus side, Varton
seemed to have made his first conquest among their hosts.
     He bowed formally to Toth.  ?May I have the pleasure of serving you
dinner tonight??
     Toth frowned at the invitation.  ?I?m sure we?ll all eat together.
If you?ll excuse me, I?ll tell Tok that the Galactican delegation is
here.?  The lanky Nomen strode through the air-lock.
     ?I?m afraid to ask,? said Troy, ?but what is this.....Vopa??
     Varton smiled.  ?It?s equivalent to the 145th Scripture in the Book
of the Word?the guide to sexual pleasure.  Required reading on the
Borella, old boy.?
     With that, the portly man gripped his bags and rumbled up the ramp. 
Dillon and Troy struggled along in his wake.  The airlock door whooshed
open and they walked up the ramp to the receiving compartment, where Tok,
his mate and pilot, Tar, and Toth stood waiting.  A crewman bolted the
hatch behind them and made ready for launch.
     With importance, Tok proclaimed, ?On behalf of the Nomen people,
welcome aboard the shuttle Shanavas, pride of the Borella?s small but
efficient squadron of inter-fleet taxis.?
     ?It is our pleasure,? said Lieutenant Dillon.  ?I just wish it were
under happier circumstances.?
     A communications panel in the wall made a chirping sound, and the
pilot rushed to answer it.  ?This is Tar.?
     ?We have completed the checklist, and the