BATTLESTAR GALACTICA/PLANET OF THE APES CROSSOVER
                        by Eric Paddon
    Based on "Battlestar Galactica" created by Glen A. Larson
               And the movie "Planet Of The Apes"
          Screenplay by Rod Serling and Michael Wilson
             Original novel written by Pierre Boulle
                       Posted May 23, 2000

                     Prelude

   "God damn you all to Hell!"
   Taylor's tormented words echoed off the cliffs as he pounded his
fist in the sand and stared at the remains of the once proud and
majestic Statue of Liberty.  Venting his anger over the shocking
discovery that his planet, and his civilization was the one that had
descended into the depths of primitive savagery.
   Colonel George Taylor had been the commander of an historic mission
into deep space called Project Magellan that had left the planet Earth
in the year 1972.  He and three other astronauts, co-pilot Major
Stephen Landon, the African-American scientist Dr. Arthur Dodge and the
beautiful Lieutenant Julia Stewart were to travel 350 light years
beyond their star system and plant a new human civilization on a
distant world.  For Taylor, a lifelong misanthrope with little regard
for his own people, it was a unique opportunity to start afresh, and
escape the problems of a time he had long ago come to loathe.  To
search for something better than man, as he had boasted to one of his
fellow astronauts.
   And then, they had awaken from hibernation in the year 3978 to
discover that they had crashed in a massive inland sea in the middle of
what appeared to be a mysterious desert planet.  And with their
awakening came the discovery that Astronaut Stewart was dead.  Killed
when a leak had developed in her hibernation chamber.
   Together, Taylor, Landon and Dodge had escaped from their sinking
spacecraft and made their way ashore.  Their initial discovery seemed
promising.  After traversing the desert region, they soon stumbled
across signs that the planet contained pockets of life that were
veritable oases.  There was plenty of food, large sections of fertile
jungle, and most importantly a large habitation of primitive, mute
humans who roamed about as if they were mere animals.  It seemed that
gaining control of the planet would be little problem at all.
   Then, the nightmare had begun with the sudden appearance of
leather-clad creatures on horseback taking part in a hunt, with the
humans as their targets.  And Taylor could still recall the feeling of
horror as he'd caught his first look at them.  Apes.  The planet was
run by a civilization of intelligent, talking apes.  A warlike, brutal
race of apes that kept humans in chains and cages.
   After being shot dead in the hunt, Dodge had been stuffed and
mounted for permanent display in an ape museum.  Landon had been
captured, and when the apes had discovered that he was an intelligent
human they had performed brain surgery on him that completely destroyed
his intelligence, forever robbing him of all his memories and his
identity.
   Taylor nearly suffered the same fate.  Only the intervention of the
compassionate ape psychologist Dr. Zira and her husband, the
archeologist Cornelius, had saved him from the corrupt Chief Scientist,
Dr. Zaius, who had seen Taylor as a threat to the established order of
Ape domination.  For Taylor's mere existence proved the falsity of the
"sacred" concept that apes had always been the supreme species, and
that man had never known the ability to think or reason.
   Together, Cornelius and Zira had helped Taylor make his escape to
the desert region beyond the Ape City, the so-called "Forbidden Zone". 
But not before he had insisted on taking the primitive female they had
provided him with during his captivity.  A beautiful woman whom Taylor
had named Nova.  If Taylor was to search for a new hope far away from
the brutality of the apes, he needed to have companionship.  Someone to
care for and to love so that he might be able to keep what was left of
his sanity.
   And now, after journeying up the coastline in search of a place of
safety to settle in, Taylor had come across the remains of a sight he
knew all too well.  And with it, the horrible realization that the
upside-down world where ape ruled over man was in fact his own.
   "You finally did it!" Taylor pounded the sand again as the ocean
rolled over his legs and hands, "All those years of killing each other
wasn't enough!  You just had to go all the way and blow everything up!" 

   He did not care how it had all happened.  A Soviet first strike? 
The Red Chinese?  Renegade elements of his own country?  None of that
mattered to him.  The only fact that stood out was that all the
negative feelings he'd felt about mankind that had compelled him to
travel 2000 years into the future had been vindicated in a hideous
fashion.  But now, there was no hope of ever finding something better
than man.  He'd been forced to see the consequences of what had
happened to his own race.   
   Finally, after several minutes on his knees, Taylor warily rose to a
standing position.  He was too drained to vent his anger any longer.
   He turned around and looked back at Nova who was still sitting on
the horse with a wide-eyed look of concern.  Slowly, practicality began
coming back to him.  His discovery, shocking as it was, didn't really
change his basic situation.  He still had to go about the task of
finding a new home for the two of them to settle in.  The important
thing for now was to move on.
   Taylor let out a sigh and mounted the horse, planting himself in
front of Nova.
   "It's all right Nova," he said quietly, "We'll be fine."
   He paused and turned around so he could look into her innocent brown
eyes. 
   "I envy you, Nova," Taylor sighed, "You're almost lucky to not
comprehend what seeing that whole thing means."
   There was still no response from her.  Small wonder.  There wasn't a
single human on this planet other than himself who could talk.  Nova,
like all the rest of them, was little more than a creature of the
jungle.  More docile than others of her kind perhaps, but still with
more of the instincts of an animal than a rational being.  From a
mental standpoint, Nova and her kind represented total regression on
the evolutionary scale.
   But as Taylor prepared to take hold of the reins and move on, he
suddenly felt Nova's arms go tightly around his waist.  And then, he
felt the gentle tousle of her dark brown hair as she buried her head on
his shoulder.
   Slowly, a glimmer of hope came back to him.  He could sense feeling
and emotion inside Nova.  Was it possible that there was more he could
do for her?  Educate her.  Teach her to talk.  And from there...
   He tried not to let his mind race too far.  Already, he was fast
trying to cope with the realization that this was his planet he now
found himself on.  And that whatever happened to him and Nova carried
ramifications far greater than he could ever have imagined.
   He slowly turned the horse around so he could look back at the
Statue of Liberty one last time.
   There lay the remains of what mankind had once been.  Noble and
proud enough to build a statue symbolizing a commitment to liberty and
freedom.  And foolish enough to forget those values and destroy the
statue and themselves.
   Further back, he knew that Cornelius and Zira had returned with Dr.
Zaius to Ape City.  The symbol of what mankind had degenerated into.
   Ahead of him lay an unknown path.  A path that was sure to be
fraught with all kinds of perils and dangers if he was to survive.  And
yet, he couldn't help but sense that somewhere along that path lay an
ultimate answer to why he, a lonely misanthrope from the 20th Century
had been thrust into this incredible position he found himself in.
   Taylor finally turned away from the statue and pulled the reins. 
With that, the horse resumed its lonely journey up the coastline.

                   Chapter One

   The scene was an awesome display of brilliant white light, just as
Apollo had remembered it.  Twice before, he knew he had visited this
place, though his memory still held gaps on some of the details
surrounding those visits.  But he did know that aboard this wondrous
vessel of light were the most remarkable beings known to exist in the
universe apart from the Almighty Himself.
   "Step forward, Commander Apollo," the rich, luminous voice that
Apollo remembered from that first visit filled the cavernous chamber. 
"There is much to explain in so little time."
   Apollo's mind was totally oblivious as to how and why he had come to
be here, aboard the Ship of Lights once again.  The only thing he felt
at that instant was a feeling of total serenity.  The faith that his
father had passed down to him had grown stronger with each passing
yahren, and that faith alone was enough to tell him why he was now
here.
   He stepped forward towards the other side of the chamber and then
saw a human-looking form emerge.  Apollo already knew from past
experience that it wasn't a real image.  It was but a projection made
by one of the Guardians so they might be able to communicate more
easily with him.  The Guardians themselves were totally luminous.  Far
beyond the need of normal human appearance.  Apollo still didn't know
if that was because they represented the next advanced stage of human
evolution, or if it was merely the form bestowed on those chosen by the
Almighty after death.  When he had asked them about their nature once,
their answers had been suitably ambiguous so that either conclusion
could be reasonably inferred.
   Instantly, he recognized the form as John, the Guardian who had
recruited Apollo so many yahrens ago to stop the fighting on the planet
Terra.
   "Hello Apollo," John smiled brightly as he came up to greet him, "It
is good to see you again."
   "I am ready to listen to what you have to say, John," Apollo said
with total deference and respect.  Now that he was a much older and
wiser man, he had reached enough conclusions about the Guardians that
he didn't need to get upset over their tendency towards reticence and
ambiguity in how they explained things.
   "Good," the Guardian nodded, "Because what I have to say is
uncharacteristically blunt of me.  On this very day, the quest that
began for your people twenty-five yahrens ago will come to an end.  You
will find the planet Earth at long last."
   Apollo's mouth fell open in amazement, "You mean---"
   "I mean exactly what I say, Apollo," John said firmly, "Your quest
is over.  When you send a patrol out to investigate the next solar
system ahead of you, they will find a system of nine planets orbiting a
class G-2 sun.  Only one of the planets is capable of sustaining human
life and contains lifeforms.  That planet is Earth."
   Apollo felt numb with exhilaration, "John, what can I say except---"
   "Say nothing," the Guardian abruptly cut him off and held up a hand
of warning, "There is nothing more I can say to you at this point.  I
offer you no information as to what kind of planet Earth is.  Only the
assurance that what you will find is the planet you have sought.  And
it will be incumbent upon you and your people to make use of what is
there to insure the survival of your civilization."
   Apollo opened his mouth to try and say something, but he hadn't
begun to form the first syllable of his words when John lowered his
hand and suddenly everything went totally black.....


   He came to and found himself lying in the bed of his spacious
quarters aboard the Galactica.  Sheba lay curled up next to him,
sleeping blissfully.
   Apollo rubbed his temples as he quickly relived every detail of what
he had just experienced.
   A dream, he thought.  They appeared to me in a dream, because they
know I don't fly vipers anymore and they can't abduct me to make
contact.
   Without giving it any thought, he quickly nudged his sleeping wife
so he could tell her what had happened.  Once she was awake and had
given him only a gentle rebuke for rousing her, Sheba believed him the
instant he told her what he had experienced.  It was the kind of story
that one might not believe at first hearing, but Sheba had no reason to
doubt what her husband had said.  For she too, had known the experience
of seeing the Guardians firsthand, and understanding the power they
held.
   When it officially became morning by the Fleet Chronometer, which
had run according to Caprica Standard Time ever since the beginning of
the Exodus twenty-five yahrens ago, Apollo wasted little time in
summoning his best friend, and both of his children to his quarters.
   It was not for the idle reason of sharing good news with the people
who meant so much to him.  The meeting would be in the context of
Apollo's official capacity as commander of the Galactica.  A position
he had held since the death of his father, Commander Adama five yahrens
earlier.  Amazingly enough, Apollo had been able to step into the role
of commander with virtually no charges of nepotism from the Council of
Twelve or any of the dissident factions known to exist within the
Fleet.  Apollo's stature as a warrior had passed into the realm of
Legend by this point.  A stature not known to have existed with any
warrior since the days of Commander Cain.
   It was not a stature that the ordinarily introspective Apollo had
wanted or desired.  But both Adama and Sheba (whom Apollo had married
not long after that mission when he and Starbuck had infiltrated the
lone Cylon baseship) had urged him not to resist it.
   "People need heroes," his father had said, "You'll find in later
yahrens that the stature of a Legend will serve you well."
   That had turned out to be all too true when Adama spoke to him for
the last time, a mere sectan before his death, and revealed that he had
chosen his son to be his successor.
   "More than anyone else, Apollo, you understand the real purpose of
what lies behind this quest we have followed all these yahrens for
Earth," Adama's voice was showing signs that the end was not far off
for him, "That is why it is imperative for you to lead us the rest of
the way."
   He had protested, saying that to take command would be perceived as
a slight to Adama's long-time executive officer Colonel Tigh.  He had
also been concerned over the specter of his father showing overt
favoritism toward one of his two remaining children.  But Adama had
allayed those fears right away by having Athena and Tigh come visit so
they could assure Apollo that they agreed with the Commander's
decision.
   And as Adama had predicted, Apollo's stature as a Legend among
warriors had made the people conditioned in advance to accept the idea
of him as the new leader.  Even though there were still times when
Apollo wasn't sure he could believe it himself.
   On this day though, he knew that total inner confidence was needed,
as he sat back in his chair behind his father's desk and saw Starbuck,
Boxey and Hera enter.
   Starbuck was well into middle age now and had not bothered
concealing some of the signs of that process.  His blonde hair was
still full but had turned steel-gray in color.  That, and a perpetual
two-week stubble of beard lent Starbuck the grizzled, weather-beaten
air of a veteran pilot who had seen everything, and now that
twenty-five yahrens had passed, was regarded as one of the best there'd
ever been.
   His two children were total opposites in appearance.  Boxey, despite
not being his biological son had somehow managed to turn into a young
version of himself anyway.  He had his father's black hair and the same
bearing and temperament.  And he had also idolized Apollo to the point
where his career choice of viper pilot was all but preordained.  Now,
he was a five yahren veteran of Blue Squadron and had already made
Lieutenant.  His career had not been filled with any of the spectacular
feats that had made both Apollo and Starbuck famous, but it had been an
exemplary career up to this point that had done his father proud.
   Hera, his daughter born two yahrens after he and Sheba had married,
was the total image of what her mother and her maternal grandmother
Bethany had looked like at the same age, except for her hair being
lighter and more blonde than brown in color.   She also had the trace
of her maternal grandfather Commander Cain in her as well, with a
quick-edged, decisive temperament that had earned her the highest marks
of all the cadets in her graduating class from the Warrior Training
School.  After only four sectars on active duty as an Ensign, she
already had shown signs of  determination to become the best warrior of
her generation.
   As he had with Sheba, Apollo explained the details of what he had
experienced in his dream. 
   "I think this is the confirmation we've been looking for," Apollo
said, "For the last five sectars we've been getting one gamma signal
after another that's clearly of Earth origin.  I think what they were
trying to tell me is that the next planet we find that has any
lifeforms is Earth, and that we don't have to go through any of that
anxiety wringing our hands over whether this is or isn't the planet
we're supposed to settle on."
   "Apollo," Starbuck said as he chewed on an unlit fumarello, "You
don't need to do any convincing of me, but what do you say to the rest
of the people when you tell them that we're going to find Earth today?"
   "I rest on my laurels and the fact that they trust me implicitly on
all things related to Earth," the commander smiled wryly, "I think all
those gamma signals ahead of time have already prepared public opinion
to accept the fact that Earth is near, and it's not impossible to
accept the idea that we find it today."
   "Too bad we can't understand a word of them," Boxey spoke for the
first time, "Just a few blurry images of a human making a journal
entry, saying garbled things I couldn't even begin to figure out."
   "And yet in at least two of those transmissions, we heard that human
say the word 'Earth.'" Apollo said, "Which was all the proof we
needed."
   "Not that it's stopping Boomer from spending eighteen centars a day
trying to clean up the audio on them," Starbuck smirked, "Good thing he
loves his new line of work."
   "And one thing I know about you, Starbuck, is that you'll never find
a new line of work to love," the commander returned it.  Because of all
the experiences they'd shared down through the yahrens, he allowed
Starbuck considerably more leeway in addressing him than others would
for the Commander, "Starbuck, get your viper ready and prepare to take
Hera and Boxey out on patrol.  If you keep following the track ahead of
us, you should run right smack into the solar system containing Earth. 
When you find her, take a quick scan for general readings and bring
them back here.  We'll go over the data and then be able to make a
decision on which contingency plan to put into effect."
   "Okay," Starbuck rose, "I guess we get started then, right pilots?"
he flashed a smile at the two warriors who had looked up to him as a
favorite uncle as they'd grown up.
   "Not yet, Starbuck," Apollo held up a hand, "I want Boxey and Hera
to stay a few centons.  You get down to the launch bay and make the
final preparations."
   The grizzled captain nodded in understanding and left the room,
leaving Apollo alone with his children.
   Apollo took a breath before he began.  Already, the young warriors
sensed that he was going to be speaking to them as their father, and
not as their commander.
   "If someone were to accuse me of resorting to nepotism in having the
two of you accompany Starbuck on this patrol, they'd be correct," he
said.  "It means a lot to me that the both of you, be the first of our
people to actually see Earth."
   Their father sighed and began to pace about behind his desk, "The
only reason why we've made it this far is because your grandfather, at
the blackest centon in human history, received the wisdom and strength
to conceive this idea and put it into effect on such incredibly short
notice."
   "And he had to do it when he'd suffered a lot himself," Hera spoke
up.  She had long been familiar with how the night of the Holocaust had
killed two relatives of hers that she had never known.  Her grandmother
Ila, and her uncle Zac.
   Apollo nodded, "I've never told this to anyone before except your
Aunt Athena.  I was with your grandfather that terrible night, and he
and I both went down to the surface of Caprica to see what had happened
to our house, and to see if your grandmother was still alive.  We found
only a burning, smoldering wreck.  And it was the only time in my life
that I ever saw your grandfather seem lost and helpless.  In fact, it
was the only time I ever saw him break down and cry."
   This information amazed both Boxey and Hera.  Both of them had
vivid, unchanging memories of Adama as totally strong and unflinching
in the face of any potential danger.
   "And yet only a few centons after he'd gone through this terrible
experience of seeing everything that he'd spent a lifetime building up
destroyed, he had already conceived of the idea that we needed to band
together and seek out Earth.  Overcoming that kind of personal
adversity that would have destroyed a lesser man, to provide the answer
that saved human civilization tells you a lot about how great a man he
was."
   "It's too bad he couldn't be alive for this," Boxey said with a tiny
air of sadness.
   "I know," Apollo nodded, "But I can think of no better way to honor
his memory, and acknowledge his part in carrying us this far in having
both of his grandchildren go on this patrol."
   Boxey and Hera both seemed too touched to say anything.
   Apollo pulled out two objects from his desk.  One of them was a gold
medallion on a chain with a pyramid shaped design at the center.  The
other was a gold ring with several ornamental jewels affixed.
   He handed the medallion to his son, "Your grandfather wore this Seal
of the Lords to denote his power as a member of the Council of Twelve,"
he said, "He also used this medallion to officiate the sealing
ceremonies when I married your mother and your stepmother."  he paused,
"I'd like for you to be wearing it while you fly the patrol."
   Boxey was still at a loss for words as he took the medallion and
with some hesitation, put it around his neck.
   Apollo then turned his attention to Hera and handed her the ring,
"This was a gift to your grandmother Ila when she retired from her work
at the Caprica Fine Arts Institute," he said, "It was one of the few
things of hers that your grandfather saved from the wreckage of our
house.  He always cherished it as a reminder that though she was gone,
her spirit was making the journey to Earth with him."
   With the same hesitation her brother had shown with the medallion,
Hera slipped it on her finger.
   "This way, I can feel secure that though neither of them are here, a
part of them did finish the journey," Apollo said, "And I know that
both of them are glad that they've left a precious legacy in the both
of you to help lead us in this next important phase of human history."
   He could see the tears glistening in his daughter's eyes as Hera put
her arms around him.  A few microns later, Boxey had joined them to
share in the collective embrace.
   Finally, Apollo released them both, "I'm proud of you both," he said
with all the tenderness he summoned, "I may not get a chance to say
that as often as I probably should, but I want you to always know
that."
   Hera wiped her eyes and slowly regained her usual bearing of
military decisiveness, "You and Mom have never had to say it all the
time, Dad," she said, "We know."
   Boxey still felt too moved to say anything himself.  Again, that was
part of his more introspective nature.  His sister was always the one
who felt more comfortable finding the right words for the occasion.
   "Okay," Apollo smiled, "Now get down to that launch bay and make
this a day they'll be reading about thousands of yahrens from now."
   
   
   One centar later, the three vipers had launched and were well into
their patrol. 
   "This is Blue Squadron patrol, reporting to Galactica," Starbuck's
tone was uncharacteristically one of dead seriousness,  "We have
reached the outermost periphery of what appears to be a solar system
that matches the correct description.  Nine planets.  One sun, class
level G-2."
   "Good," Apollo's voice came through his helmet, "Scan each planet
for lifeforms and atmosphere readings."
   "Will do," Starbuck nodded and then switched frequencies so he could
talk to the rest of his group of three vipers, "All right Blue Group. 
Peel off and start checking out those planets and transmit all
telemetry data back to the Galactica."
   "Mind if I take that big one with the rings, Starbuck?" Boxey's
voice came through, "It sure looks funny."
   "Be my guest Boxey," Starbuck grinned.
   "You've got no imagination, Brother," Hera chimed in.  "The bigger
one with the red spot looks far more interesting."
   "That's because you always had a thing for boys with large red
freckles, right?" he retorted good-naturedly to his step-sister.
   "Maybe," her tone matched his, "So long as none of them reminded me
of you."
   "Okay kids, Uncle Starbuck has to step in and restore order,"
Starbuck cut in, trying to suppress a chuckle.  He knew that the
put-downs between Boxey and Hera only masked the deep bonds of
closeness they felt to each other.  "We need to summon total dignity if
this turns out to be the day we find Earth."
   "Aye aye sir!" Boxey said with an edge of mock seriousness, since
they already knew the answer to that question was not if but when.


   Aboard the Galactica, Apollo sat in the command chair on the upper
level of the bridge with his fingertips together in contemplation. 
Although he had been commander of the great battlestar for more than
five yahrens, it had only been in the last few sectars that he had
finally felt comfortable enough to sit down in the chair that had been
his father's for so long without any ill-at-ease feelings or
discomfort.  Events had taken on such a dramatic turn-of-events in that
time, that he knew that his inner inferiority complex had to be swept
aside for good.  He needed to act with more confidence in his own
abilities or else he knew that he risked the lives of all the people in
the Fleet.  And one way to do that, was to start thinking of the
Galactica as something that was now his, and not some perpetual
extension of his father.
   "Feel nervous?" the executive officer spoke up from beside his
chair.
   Apollo looked up at Sheba and smiled, "Like a cadet on his first
solo flight."
   "I know what you mean," his wife looked out the main viewing screen,
"I'd give my right arm to be out there and be the first to see Earth."
   "That'd be a tragic waste of a very pretty right arm," Apollo got to
his feet.  Very seldom did he allow any intimate words to pass between
them when they were both on duty, but this day seemed different from
others.  On this day, they would finally reach the end of a journey
that had began twenty-five yahrens ago when Commander Adama had
gathered 70,000 survivors of human civilization in search of the
legendary thirteenth colony, the planet Earth.
   "Anyway," the commander went on, "If we couldn't be flying our
vipers, it's only fitting our children performed the honors."
   Sheba smiled back and brushed away a lock of her shoulder-length
brown hair.  There was so much she wished she could say at that moment
how it was often hard for her to think of Boxey and Hera as
full-fledged warriors.  Boxey, whom she had raised and loved as though
he were her own, had become a young version of his adoptive father. 
What he had not been able to inherit from Apollo by genetic instinct,
he had inherited instead as the result of studying his father's
techniques and following all the advice Apollo had given him down
through the yahrens.  Even though Hera was the total opposite and had
truly inherited all of her mother's characteristics in appearance and
temperament, there had never been any clashes or conflicts between the
siblings.  Strangely enough, the fact that they were both so different
in their approaches to being warriors had only served to make them feel
closer to each other as brother and sister.
   Then again, she mused, that had also been why Apollo and Starbuck
had been so inseparable down through the yahrens when they had flown
together.
   "First telemetry reports coming in, Commander," Major Omega looked
up from his console, where he had been a steady rock of stability from
the very beginning of the Galactica's journey, "The outer planets, save
one, are all gaseous giants filled with atmospheres totally unsuitable
for any life as we know it.  Patrol is now proceeding toward the inner
planets but they have to navigate through a large asteroid belt first. 
It'll be ten centons before they can start taking readings."
   "Thank you Omega," Apollo said, "Keep their channel opened direct to
me."
   "Well, we should find out soon if the Ship of Lights is still
reliable like they always have been," Sheba sighed, "If Earth really
isn't there, then a lot of people are going to lose their religion very
fast."
   "It's there," Apollo's tone was firm and resolute.  "There's no
question that Earth is there in this system.  It's only a matter of
what kind of Earth we find."
   Sheba looked down at her husband, "What kind of Earth are you hoping
for?"
   "I've never let myself think about that for one micron," he said
flatly, "Something my father told me a long time ago.  Don't fill your
mind with any expectations about what we might find on Earth.  Accept
the will of the Lord and work with what you're given.  That's why he
had us draw up action plans all those yahrens ago for dealing with a
society ahead of us, equal to us or far behind us."
   Sheba decided not to press the point.  Inside, for twenty five
yahrens she had harbored a dream inside of her that Earth would be a
technological miracle.  A colony that had flourished on the same order
that the Twelve Colonies had.  And strong enough to help their brothers
turn the tide at long last in the fight against the Cylon Empire.
   She had never liked to think of the prospect that Earth was nothing
like that at all, even though as executive officer she was privy to the
details of the action plan for dealing with a primitive Earth.  She had
no doubt that as a professional warrior who needed to do her job, she
could rise to the occasion and help put such a plan into effect.  What
she doubted was her ability to handle the prospect from a purely
emotional standpoint.  For if Earth was totally incapable of helping
the survivors of the Colonies fight back against their sworn enemy,
then what hope was there left?  The whole journey across the stars that
had taken so much sacrifice, and had seen so many brave souls like
Giles, Greenbean, Bojay and Commander Adama lose their lives, would
seemingly have been all for nothing.
   As she stood next to her husband and saw the medium-sized star that
contained the planets her children were now investigating, Sheba felt
herself praying with all her strength that the solution to turning the
tide would be found somehow.


   "That asteroid field was tougher than I figured," Starbuck's voice
was slightly subdued as the three vipers left the large quadrant of
rocks and meteors behind them and streaked toward the inner planets.
   "I had no trouble with it," Hera said.  "I've seen obstacles in a
simulator that were tougher than that."
   Either Hera is being naturally boastful, or I'm starting to get too
old for this, Starbuck said to himself.  But as far as he was
concerned, he intended to keep flying his viper until he was a
doddering old man of a hundred yahrens, and even then they'd have to
force him to give it up.  He'd long ago vowed that moving to bridge
duty as Apollo and Sheba had done was something he'd never let himself
get pushed into.  Unless he had an accident like the kind Boomer had
which had forced him out of the Service and into a new job as Dr.
Wilker's successor
   "First inner planet coming into range," Hera checked her scanner,
"Thin atmosphere.  Not capable of sustaining human life without normal
pressure suits.  No lifeforms."
   "Okay Boxey, you've got the third one coming up."
   "Affirmative Blue Leader," Boxey moved his viper into a slow bank
toward the next planet in the system.  "She has one moon.  My scanner
shows signs of some non-natural objects dotting the surface. 
Preliminary indications are that they're the remains of some crafts
that have landed there.  There's a lot of them all over the place."
   "That's a good sign," Starbuck said, "That indicates penetration of
the satellite by lifeforms.  Keep pouring it on."
   "I'm headed for the third planet," Boxey moved past the
crater-strewn landscape of the moon.  "Preliminary scan looks good. 
Definitely an atmosphere sustainable to life.  And....jackpot!" his
voice rose to an excited crescendo, "Lifeforms clearly indicated!"
   "That's it then," Starbuck grinned as he adjusted the communicator,
"Blue Leader to Galactica.  We have found Earth.  It's the third planet
in the system."
   "Terrific!" Apollo's excited voice came back, and Starbuck could
hear the sounds of cheering erupting on the battlestar's bridge from
all of the crewmembers on duty.  "Keep a low profile and take only a
cursory scan.  As soon as you have it, return to the Galactica
immediately."
   "Will do," Starbuck nodded, "You hear that, Boxey?  Take enough of a
reading to give us something we can work with, but don't attract the
attention of anyone down there who's watching."
   "Just need a few more microns," the brown haired lieutenant said,
"I'm starting the.....wait a micron."
   "What's up?"
   "Starbuck, Hera, I've got a contact registering in delta one-two
quadrant.  It seems to be on a trajectory headed right for Earth. 
She's moving very slow.  Barely moving at normal sub-light speed."
   Starbuck activated his scan beam toward the heading Boxey had
mentioned.  He could see the tiny blip registering on his grid.
   "I've got it," the grizzled captain said, "Hera, you picking this up
too?"
   "Sure am," the young ensign said. "Boxey, can you get a visual
contact scan of her?"
   "I'll need to move in a little closer," her brother said as he hit
his turbo and assumed a new heading.  "Should have it any micron now."
he flicked several switches on his console and then looked ahead
through his canopy.
   At first it was only a dim speck, totally indistinguishable from all
of the other stars in the background.  But as Boxey's viper drew closer
it began to grow larger and take shape.  Within microns, the dim speck
had become the shape of a spacecraft.
   The craft was long and sleek, silver-white in color and narrowed at
the front into a triangular point where the windows indicated a cockpit
region.  Markings covered the ship at various points from bow to stern,
but they spelled out words that meant absolutely nothing to Boxey, Hera
or Starbuck.  Above some of the words were colorful looking emblems of
red and blue that suggested some type of symbol indicating the craft's
origin.  Again, it was not of any design that struck a chord with the
three warriors.
   "Blue Leader to Galactica," Starbuck radioed with a cautious tone of
voice, "We have made visual contact with what appears to be an Earth
spacecraft.  Are you getting our telemetry?"
   "Affirmative, Starbuck," Apollo said.  There seemed to be an edge of
spellbound fascination in the commander's voice.  "Getting any life
readings?"
   "Just one micron.  Boxey?" he called over to the viper that was
closest.
   "I've got it," the young lieutenant nodded, "Scanner shows there are
three lifeforms aboard the craft.  98 percent probability that they're
human," he paused, "Scanner also shows that the occupants are in some
kind of state of suspended animation or sleep mode."
   Starbuck let his words sink in and suddenly started to laugh.
   "Oh boy," he chuckled, "Apollo, did you get that?"
   "I did," Starbuck could almost hear his friend's wry smile through
his helmet, "Haven't we been through something just like this once
before?"
   "I think we have," Starbuck said as the memories of a ship from the
planet Terra and her four passengers in hibernation that had caused so
many difficulties when they'd been taken aboard the Galactica for
observation briefly came back to him.  "And I don't think I need three
guesses to know that your order is to leave her alone and do nothing
that will disturb her mission."
   "Starbuck, you just went to the head of the class.  Don't even lay a
finger on that ship.  It's probably some deep-space expedition that's
finally coming home."
   "Got it.  Okay Boxey, resume trajectory for Earth and get back to
that planetary scan."
   "Just starting it up," Boxey said with crisp professionalism as he
felt the tingling exhilaration from seeing an Earth spacecraft wear
off, "Okay, atmosphere check.  Perfect.  Clear indications of human
life presence.  And....." he trailed off and then frowned, "Well now
that's funny."
   "What do you see?" Hera chimed in as she drew closer to her
brother's position.
   "I'm getting.....oh come on, this doesn't make any sense," a feeling
of disbelief started to come over Boxey.
   "What is it?" Starbuck noticed it.
   "Starbuck, I'm getting no signs of technology or major industrial
centers at all.  It's as if nothing on that planet's been developed."
   "You've got to be kidding," the grizzled captain said, "How can you
pick up an Earth spacecraft one micron, and then a planet with no
technology the next?"
   "I don't know but that's what I'm getting.  There's nothing down
there but lifeform readings."
   "Starbuck, he's right," Hera jumped in as her viper pulled up
alongside her brother's, "My scanner shows the same thing.  Lifeforms,
yes.  Technology, no."
   For one of the few times in his life, Starbuck was at a loss for
words.
   "Galactica, are you reading all this?" he finally decided he had to
turn for some advice.
   "We do Starbuck," the same edge of disbelief had entered Apollo's
voice, "And that's a combination of factors that doesn't add up.  If
we're looking at a primitive Earth, there's no way they could have the
kind of spacecraft we're seeing on the telemetry."
   "Unless that ship didn't come from Earth?" Boxey ventured as he
tapped into the frequency.
   "That wouldn't explain the presence of humans on that ship, Boxey,"
his father said.  "There are no other human settlements from here all
the way back to the planet Terra.  That's not a Terran ship, and it
certainly didn't come from the Colonies."
   Starbuck pulled up alongside the vipers of Hera and Boxey.  Ahead of
them, the shining blue planet was growing more and more visible,
showing off its continents and oceans like a beckoning signal to them.
   It was too tempting for Starbuck to pass up, "Commander, request
permission to have us proceed to Earth and investigate things on the
ground.  At this point, a simple telemetry scan isn't going to answer
any of the questions.  We need to check this out from ground level."
   There was a brief silence as the three vipers awaited a response
from the battlestar.
   "I don't like the idea, Starbuck," the commander said, "The risk of
something going wrong in a premature contact is high."
   "Commander, I promise you we'll keep a very low profile and just
look.  We won't do any mixing with the natives."
   He could hear Apollo slowly exhale in resignation, "All right
Starbuck.  Use your best judgment, and be on your guard."
   "We only need a few centars at best and we should have all the
information we need," Starbuck said, "We'll be back in no time."
   The three vipers started to ease back on their turbos as the blue
planet drew closer and closer.  The preparations for landing had begun.


   On the bridge, the early euphoria that had erupted was gone
completely.  Replaced by an air of somewhat pessimistic caution and
uncertainty.
   "No technology," Sheba felt stung by the words she'd heard, "That
doesn't bode well at all for us."
   Her husband tried to remain philosophical, "Maybe.  Maybe not.  Once
they're on the ground and do some investigating we should have a better
inkling of what we're up against."
   She looked at him with amazement, "Can you really be so calm?  If
those reports are correct, then Earth doesn't have anything that can
help us."
   "Those readings don't explain that spacecraft," Apollo cautioned,
"That's the one thing that's keeping me from implementing our action
plan for dealing with a primitive Earth. There's something down there
that knows how to build a spacecraft that's capable of making
deep-space travel.  Until I know just what that is, I'm not about to
concede that we're up against our worst case scenario."
   "You might as well break out the manual for it though."
   "Not until we have more information," he rose from his chair and
then went over to the railing where he looked down at Omega, "Omega,
send the telemetry tapes of that spacecraft to my station.  And notify
the Electronics Ship to have Boomer get over here immediately."
   "Yes Commander," Omega nodded and went to work on carrying out the
order.
   "You think Boomer can figure out something from that data?" Sheba
asked.
   Apollo half-smiled, "Well, he's been studying all those gamma
signals that led us to Earth.  I want to see if this spacecraft
remotely matches anything he picked up in those transmissions."
   He noticed the concerned look on her face, and quietly reached over
to squeeze her hand.
   "Hang tight, Sheba," he kept his tone low and gentle, "The Lord
hasn't led us this far across the galaxy just to come to a dead end."
   Sheba looked her husband in the eye and for the first time managed
to smile.  But inside, her uneasy apprehension was only increasing.


   For many months, there had been only stark, empty quiet aboard the
silvery-gray spacecraft that continued on its slow trajectory toward
the Earth.  The three men who ordinarily would have been at their
consoles to operate and guide the spacecraft had spent the last nine
months in a state of hibernation to conserve their resources and
prepare them for arrival at a destination that was totally unknown to
them.
   The computers guiding the spacecraft were programmed to keep the
three crewmen in their sleeping state until final landing took place. 
The only exception to that, was in case of a potential danger from
collision emerging.  If that contingency ever happened, the automatic
override to the commander's hibernation chamber would kick in, and the
crew would be awaken in time to take quick action.
   When the viper craft of Boxey passed within a mere five miles of the
spacecraft, a yellow alert siren shattered the nine-month silence and
numerous computer programs sprung to life with rapid action.  Within
thirty seconds, red flashing lights were blinking brightly above the
commander's chamber as the wake program was initiated.
   Ten seconds later, the commander's eyes started to flutter open.  It
took two blinks before he had all of his faculties back.  He put a hand
to his cheek and felt the scraggly growth of a nine month old beard
that had grown during his hibernation.  With the other hand, he pressed
several buttons above him, which quickly went red and activated the
glass case that had kept him protected all this time.
   The case slid open and the commander got to his feet.  Immediately
he directed his attention to the cockpit windows, expecting to see the
sight of a strange new planet.  Instead, he frowned when he saw that
the spacecraft was still flying in space.
   Even stranger still, were the sights that took up the view in both
windows.  He could see three objects that clearly had the contours of
being fast-moving space vehicles moving rapidly toward a blue planet in
the foreground.
   That explains the alert siren and why I'm awake, the commander said
to himself.  Those things got close to us.
   He rubbed his eyes and strained for another look.  Those unknown
craft were rapidly dwindling to tiny points of light as they drew
closer and closer to the planet.  They were evidently headed for a
landing.
   That really opens up a lot of strange possibilities, he thought as
he sat down in the command chair and activated some of the switches on
the console in front of him.  After silencing the alert siren, he
turned his attention to the most critical thing he needed to know.  He
needed a readout on the trajectory they'd been following for the last
year and a half since they'd launched.  If the trail was still hot,
then the first phase of the mission was about to come to an end, with
total success.
   The computer monitor printed out its information and the commander
grinned.  Everything was in order.  The trail they'd been following led
straight to the nearby planet.
   He rose from his chair and went back to the hibernation chambers
where his second-in-command and navigator remained oblivious to
everything in their state of sleep.  Like him, their beards had fully
grown in over the last nine months, making them both look
uncharacteristically different from their standard, clean-cut military
images.  Allowing himself a slight chuckle over their appearance, he
activated the switches that would bring them awake.
   Once again, the noise of computer systems kicking in filled the
interior as the commander went back to his seat at the forward end of
the spacecraft.
   "Ohhh...." the second-in-command was the first of the two to come
round as he absently put his hand to his cheek.
   "Okay gentlemen," Colonel Philip Rollins, ten year veteran of the
United States Astronaut Corps and commander of the American spaceship
Magellan II grinned wryly, "Rise and shine."
   Major John Brent, the expedition's second-in-command got to his feet
and stumbled forward slightly toward the cockpit area, "Have we
landed?" he rubbed his temples which were throbbing slightly.
   "Not yet," Rollins said as Brent settled into his chair on the left
side of the ship.  "Fowler, you awake?" he craned his head back.
   "Yeah, yeah, I'm awake," Captain Donald Fowler, the navigator who
had done most of the pre-hibernation flying mumbled as he got to his
feet and also made his way toward the forward part of the spacecraft,
"Christ, they didn't tell me that hibernation would feel that bad."
   "Simulators never have anything on the real thing," Rollins said as
he turned his attention to another console.
   "So how do we stand?" Brent asked with equal parts concern and
anticipation, "Are we still locked on Taylor's ion trail trajectory?"
   The commander nodded, "Still locked on to it.  There's no question
he ended up on that planet right in front of us."
   "Where exactly are we?" Fowler sat down in the chair behind the
other two, "And what time is it now?"
   "I don't know yet about the former," Rollins punched up some more
information, "As to the latter, you'll have the answer in a few
seconds."
   The three American astronauts shifted their attention over to the
ship's chronometer.  On the left side, the monitor for SHIP'S TIME
denoted the amount of time that had elapsed for them since they'd
lifted off from Cape Canaveral.  It read June 18, 1977.  For Rollins,
Brent and Fowler, only eighteen months had elapsed.
   On the right side, the monitor for EARTH TIME was recalibrating
itself.  And when the numbers came up, all three of the astronauts
stared in wide-eyed amazement.
   "Congratulations gentlemen," Rollins grinned, "You are now among
that select few who can say they have lived to be 2000 years old."
   Fowler shook his head in incredulous disbelief, "June 12, 3979."
   "Welcome to the 40th Century," Rollins shifted his attention back to
his console, "Hopefully, we won't have to spend much time dwelling on
that.  If all goes well, we lock on to where Taylor landed.  Pick him
and the others up and bid a quick retreat back the way we came to Earth
and the 20th Century."
   "Assuming we can make it back," Brent couldn't take his eyes off the
chronometer.
   "We can make it," Rollins ignored the edge of concern in his voice,
"We've just proved the first half of Dr. Hasslein's theories about
traveling through time.  That means his chances of being right about
performing the reverse are more than good for my purposes."
   "I hope," Fowler sighed, "But you'd think that if the Magellan made
it this way with no trouble, they'd have figured out how to get back
themselves."
   "Our comrades had no reason to think they could try to get back,
Fowler," Rollins took out a paper cup and helped himself to some water
from the dispenser next to his main console, "That's why we've come
after them on this rescue mission."
   The sandy-haired Brent had finally taken his eyes off the
chronometer.  He was trying not to let the reality sink in that he now
occupied a place in time and space where everything that he'd known and
loved no longer existed.  His fifteen year old daughter, whom he'd
shared an emotional last night with just before he'd left for Florida
and the mission.  His ex-wife.  His parents.  His friends.  They were
all dead and forgotten in this time and place.  It made him shudder
inwardly and only reinforced his desire that the sooner they found
Taylor and the rest of the Magellan crew, and got themselves back home,
the better he'd feel.
   "I thought we were programmed to wake up only after we landed,"
Fowler was still trying to readjust himself to his surroundings.
   "We got buzzed by some UFO's," Rollins sipped his water very slowly,
"That caused a yellow-alert situation and woke me up."
   "UFO's?" Brent looked at him, "You mean some kind of meteor
activity?"
   Rollins turned and flashed another wry grin, "No Brent.  I mean
UFO's.  Flying craft of some kind that evidently came from that planet. 
I got a clear look at them, and they were headed for a landing.  That
means in addition to Taylor, Landon, Dodge and Stewart, there's also
some additional company down there."
   "Alien life," Brent shook his head in amazement, "Somebody tell me
I'm dreaming."
   "You sure weren't for the last nine months," Rollins quipped as he
finished his water and crushed the cup with his bare hand, "Anyway,
from the looks of things we're only a day short of landing.  We might
as well stay awake for the rest of the journey and get ourselves
organized."
   Brent tilted his head back to loosen the stiffness he felt in his
neck and unzipped the top of his white NASA jumpsuit by an inch.  As
Rollins went back to his computer readings and Fowler helped himself to
an aspirin and water, the second-in-command returned his attention to
the blue planet that loomed in the distance.  There was a heavy amount
of cloud cover that obscured more than half of the surface from view. 
Only small patches of brown continents occasionally poked their way out
from under the heavy white streaks.
   Brent leaned forward in his chair and stared intently at the planet
for several minutes.  If he didn't know better, he could have sworn
he'd seen something familiar.
   "Skipper!" he raised his voice.
   Rollins looked up from his instruments and frowned at him, "Yeah?"
   "Is it my imagination, or does that planet look a lot like the
Earth?"
   Rollins gave the planet a cursory glance and shrugged.  "It
resembles it a bit."  
   "Skipper, I think that is the Earth!"
   "That's crazy, we've been going at light speed for almost eighteen
months away from Earth and----"
   Abruptly, Rollins broke off and his jaw fell open when he saw some
of the cloud cover lift, exposing the unmistakable shape of the North
American continent.
   Fowler had leaned forward to get a better look, and he too could see
it.
   "Holy shit," the red-haired navigator said under his breath.
   "We've come home, Skipper," Brent said, "Somehow, Taylor's
trajectory took him all the way back home."
   "How could that be?" Fowler couldn't believe it.  "It doesn't make
any sense."
   "You're right," for the first time since he'd awaken, the wry grin
had been wiped off the commander's face, "It doesn't seem possible,
unless...." he trailed off.
   "Unless what?" Fowler prodded.
   "Unless somehow, the computer failure knocked the Magellan  into an
elliptical heading.  Like the path of a comet that comes back to Earth
every thousand years or so, but...." he shook his head still finding it
hard to believe that a journey that was meant to travel hundreds of
light years into deep space had ended up back where it started.
   Brent felt the queasy sensation return to his stomach as he kept his
eyes locked on the Earth.  Many times, during his flights back from the
moon he had seen the Earth from this position and it had always
produced a sensation of warm reassurance in him.  Now, it produced just
the opposite.  The thought of having to face what the future was like
at home was the most terrifying thing he'd ever pondered.
   Abruptly, a warning light went off on Fowler's console.
   "What the--" the navigator hurriedly consulted some readings
   "Fowler, what's going on?" Rollins demanded.
   The red-haired astronaut looked at the readings in frustration,
"Sir, we've lost the ion trail.  It's dissipated completely."
   "Try getting it back!"
   "I can't sir, we were barely holding on to it.  We haven't lost our
bearing, the trail just dissipated.  There's nothing I can do about
it."
   "Great," Brent rolled his eyes, "Now there's no way of knowing the
exact spot the Magellan touched down."
   "Maybe not," Rollins tried to regain some optimistic initiative in
his voice, "But if we just keep going on a perfectly straight heading,
we ought to be sticking to the contours of where the trail line was. 
We might not land in the exact spot, but we should be roughly in the
ballpark."
   "Which can mean hundreds of miles on a planet the size of the
Earth," Brent felt the queasiness inside him increasing, "We'd have to
search the planet for God knows how long, and have to deal with an
entirely new civilization that would never believe for a moment who we
are and where we came from."
   "We'll just have to take that risk, Brent," Rollins said firmly.
   "Should we?" Brent raised his voice, "Sir, if I may make a
recommendation, I think we ought to abort the mission and start making
preparations to get back to our own time as quickly as possible."
   A look of incredulous anger came over the commander's face, "You
what?"
   Fowler was also taken aback by Brent's words, "Hey come on Brent,
there's no need to panic yet."
   "I'm sorry, but I think we're getting into dangerous territory if we
move on with this," Brent held his ground, "I don't think it's good for
us to have a sneak preview of what the future is like."
   "What are you afraid of Brent?" Rollins looked at him
disbelievingly.
   "Plenty," the sandy-haired astronaut looked at the Earth again, "I
just....Jesus, I don't want to know what the future is like.  Don't any
of you realize the burden we'd be putting on ourselves if we went back
to our own time knowing everything that happened for the next 2000
years?"
   "Brent, we're not even going to have time for finding out how
everything turned out," Rollins said patiently, "All we do is find
Taylor and the others, and get out quick."
   "Do you really think it's going to be so simple?" Brent felt on the
verge of losing control as he got out of his chair and started to pace
back and forth, "It might take weeks for us to figure out where they
are, especially when we've got a whole planet full of people to find
them in.  And by then we'd have learned too much."
   "What do you mean 'too much'?" this from Fowler.
   Brent glared at the navigator, "By the time we got back to our own
time, they'd be hounding us for all the information on what the future
is like.  Every unscrupulous politician, businessman and general will
want to know all the details to try and profit from that information. 
We'd end up....Jesus I can't begin to think of what that would mean for
us and our families."
   Fowler, who had a wife and a seven year old son, pursed his lips and
allowed Brent's words to sink in.  An uneasy flicker passed over the
navigator's face.
   Rollins, a widower with no children and no other family, saw it and
immediately gave Fowler a withering, angry glance that caused the
navigator to slink back in his chair.
   "What the hell are we conducting here, a goddamned philosophy
class?" the commander angrily snapped as he got to his feet and assumed
the most erect command posture he could muster, "Major Brent, let's get
a few facts in order.  We are on a mission with orders to find and
rescue the crew of the Magellan because of the shocking revelation six
months after they left, that Consolidated Dynamics, which furnished all
of the computer systems that were going to take our friends across the
stars to a habitable planet in Betelgeuse, installed a navigational
system that wasn't worth a crock of shit.  It was going to take them
totally off course and conceivably to a planet or system where they had
no chance of survival.  So that's why the three of us volunteered to
use the Magellan II to follow the trajectory they took and rescue
them."
   "I'm aware of that, sir," Brent tried not to look intimidated as he
assumed a posture of attention.
   "And you should also be aware that at this point, the mission has
been a total success.  We've traced the Magellan's trajectory to a
place where we know that Taylor and the others have to be alive.  That
means we go ahead, no questions asked and I don't care if it's the
future Earth we have to search.  Unless of you course, you and Captain
Fowler decide to stage a little coup d'etat."
   "No sir," Brent said summoning all the respect he could, "No sir,
not at all.  I just think that if we continue with this mission, we'll
end up regretting it."
   "I'll be the judge of that," Rollins said with an air of contempt,
"In the meantime Brent, I suggest you remember that those four people
are your friends as well as mine."
   Not exactly, Brent thought to himself.  Of the four astronauts from
the original crew, Brent only regarded Landon and Stewart as close
friends.  Dodge had been one of the non-military astronaut scientists
that he'd always been leery of and never tried to make friends with.
   And Taylor.  By God, Taylor had the biggest chip on his shoulder of
any man he'd ever met.  Always a surly loner who never liked to
fraternize with any of his colleagues away from the rigors of astronaut
work.  Forever complaining about the miseries of war, environmental
disaster and starvation afflicting the world.  Forever looking to the
stars and wondering if somehow, somewhere, another race existed that
had been able to do things far better than man had.  He came off as so
unlikable, that Brent always made a point of avoiding Taylor like the
plague when they weren't working together on mission-related matters.
   "I'm going back for a quick shower and shave," Rollins headed toward
the rear of the spacecraft, "Fowler, make sure we stay on an absolute
straight line relative to where the trajectory was heading."
   "Yes sir," the navigator seemed a bit subdued as he settled into the
commander's vacant chair, "ETA to landing in twenty hours."
   Brent sighed in resignation and returned his attention to the Earth,
which now took up the view in the entire right side of the cockpit
windows.  He could see the peninsula of Florida, where their journey
had begun so long ago.  He could also see the Gulf Coast and could make
out Texas.  Somewhere down there was Houston.  Where he'd spent so many
happy years with his wife and daughter before the pressures of
astronaut life had destroyed his marriage and left him unable to enjoy
watching his only child grow up.   
   Brent had no way of knowing how this mission into the distant future
was going to turn out, but he was already certain of one thing.  If he
got back home, he was turning in his resignation from the Astronaut
Corps as soon as he could.
   Since he was committed to going ahead with the mission though, he
tried to shift his attention away from his own personal demons to the
enigma of the man they were searching for, Colonel George Taylor.  The
more Brent thought about it, he did have a tinge of curiosity about
what Taylor's reaction had been when he found out he was still on
Earth.  And what there was about the Earth of the 40th century that the
perpetual misanthrope had found to complain about this time.
   In only twenty hours, he would find out for himself if the future
held something worth complaining about.

                    Chapter Two

   The three vipers had penetrated the upper atmosphere of Earth and
were fast descending toward the surface.  Since they'd made the
decision to proceed, there'd been little conversation between the three
pilots.  All of them felt the same edge of uneasy tension about what it
was they might find on the planet that had been at the center of their
hopes and dreams for most of their lives.
   In Hera's case, it had taken up an entire lifetime since she had
been among those born in space, and hence had no memory of what life
had been like in the Colonies.  Indeed, very seldom had she ever heard
stories of what the Colonies had been like from her parents, or from
people who'd been adults at the time of the Destruction like Starbuck,
Cassiopeia, or her Aunt Athena.  For the most part, there was a
tendency among adult survivors of the Holocaust to never talk about the
Colonies, because it too often proved to be a painful reminder of
wonderful things that had been taken from them forever in just one
terrible night.
    It was different for those who'd been small children at the time,
like Boxey.  Because of the reticence from her parents, Hera had
frequently found herself asking her older brother about the memories he
had of living on Caprica.  Of what it was like to know the joy of
living in the open space of an entire planet as opposed to the confines
of a ship floating in space.  To her delight, Boxey was willing to
oblige her.  He would tell her of the times when his late mother Serina
would take him on trips to Caprica's southern regions and he'd end up
wading into the warm ocean waters of the Eastern Sea waiting for the
waves to come in with the tide, and not wanting to come out of the
water until Serina was literally forced to drag him out.
   Her brother's stories always left Hera with the hope that she'd
experience that same kind of joy and freedom some time in her lifetime. 
As a result, she wasn't as concerned over the apparent lack of
technology on Earth as Starbuck and Boxey were.  For her, she was
willing to take any kind of planet to settle on as a wonderful new
experience.
   "Penetrating the atmosphere," Starbuck said as they passed through
the cloud cover, "We should have some visual contact with ground
level...now!"
   The pilots looked down and saw the clouds lift and the sight of land
beneath them.  It was the strangest mixture of topography that Starbuck
had ever seen on any planet he'd visited.  He could see the clear blue
waters of a large lake bordering some towering, rugged desert mountain
peaks.  But to the horizon, the Galactica warriors could see the
mountains and desert level off abruptly into the fertile green areas of
forests and jungle. 
   "Almost looks like a whole mixture of climates in this one area,"
Boxey finally broke the silence.
   "Yeah," Starbuck nodded, "And this definitely backs up that absence
of technology you scanned.  Can you pinpoint where the lifeform
readings are centered?"
   "No great surprise there, Starbuck," Hera said, "My scanner shows
all the lifeforms concentrated back in that jungle area.  That's the
place we've got to check out."
   The grizzled captain grinned, "As always Hera, you have such an
instinctive grasp of the situation, that you deny me the chance to give
the order myself."
   The three vipers glided over the desert peaks and saw the brownish,
barren terrain change over to a lush, fertile green.  As soon as a
clearing came into view, they brought them down there.
   As Starbuck popped open the canopy of his viper and looked about the
field, he felt his second flash of deja vu of the day.  Setting down in
the open field, bordered by a dense forest of trees put him in mind of
another time long ago, when he and Apollo and Sheba had landed in an
open field of a lonely planet.  And within a short period of time,
found themselves introduced to the most enigmatic figure they would
encounter in any of their lifetimes: a mysterious man in white robes
calling himself Count Iblis.
   All that's missing is the red glow and it's as if it's twenty five
yahrens ago, Starbuck mused as he dropped to the ground.  From the
other side of the field, Boxey and Hera were making their way over to
him.
   "Well, here we are," Starbuck said, "Not exactly the scenario I
envisioned for the first landing on Earth, but it seems like we have to
deal with it and find some answers."
   Hera, once again showing her sense of restless initiative, had
already pulled out her micro-scan device and activated it.
   There's no mistaking the command instinct inside her, Starbuck said
to himself.  She's not going to remain an Ensign for long.  Indeed, it
wouldn't have surprised  Starbuck a bit if Hera ended up outranking her
older brother someday.  There was no doubt that Boxey was a good
warrior who'd paid his dues and gone through his share of combat
opportunities since receiving his commission five yahrens ago, but the
grizzled captain felt that Boxey seemed to have just a tinge less
determination and fire than his younger sister did.  It was a
difference that would only become noticeable over the long haul though.
   As Hera activated her micro-scanner it didn't take long for the
machine to start emitting a series of beeps.
   "Lifeform contacts indicated just over one thousand metrones through
that first cluster of trees," Hera motioned her arm.
   "Okay," Starbuck said, "Have weapons ready at low stun setting only. 
The last thing we want to do is cause trouble.  If we can keep
ourselves hidden, we'll be a lot better off."
   The three warriors made their way forward toward the forest
perimeter.  Once they entered, they had to constantly brush away
numerous branches and leaves to keep moving.  The density of the
foliage was so great that for Boxey, it reminded him of his childhood
days playing hide and seek with his classmates inside the agro-ship. 
For Starbuck, it almost reminded him of the dim memories of wandering
through the Thorn Forest after the Umbra disaster that had left him
orphaned.
   After pushing away more thick clumps of leafy twigs, they could see
the glare of sunlight in the distance indicating that they were close
to another open field area.  The beeping on Hera's micro-scanner was
starting to intensify.
   "There are definitely people on that other side," Hera said, "These
preliminary readouts are correlating to human lifeforms right down to
the last detail."
   "Doing what?" Boxey snorted, "What in Kobol goes on in a planet
where you have no apparent technology yet still have the capacity for
spaceflight?"
   "We'll know soon enough," Starbuck said as he stepped in front of
them to assume the lead position, "And let's start keeping our voices
down."
   Starbuck reached the end of the forest perimeter and crouched sown
behind the last row of leafy bushes.  He slowly pulled out his laser
pistol from his holster and then cautiously pushed the branches aside
so he could peer out into the field.
   The veteran warrior saw what looked like a well-cultivated field of
maize plants.  The sweet golden vegetable had always been one of the
more expensive and rare food items in the Fleet's stock of plants and
crops aboard the agro-ship.  So rare that even a regular visitor to the
Rising Star's Main Dining Hall was forced to pay more than two hundred
cubits to enjoy a full serving with his dinner.  Seeing a large
abundance of the crop was by far, the first encouraging thing Starbuck
had seen since landing.
   If there's loads of maize on this planet, I've hit the jackpot, the
perpetual wheeler-dealer side of him was once again kicking in.  They
say it makes the best sweet ale you ever tasted.  I'd get the Black
Market guys to pay me a thousand cubits a pound for this stuff.   
   "What do you see?" Boxey whispered.
   Starbuck turned around and smirked, "Loads of maize.  Looks like
we've stumbled on to some kind of agro-community."
   "What about people?" Hera asked as she muted the sound emanating
from her micro-scanner.
   "Don't see anybody yet," Starbuck turned his attention back to the
field.
   "I've got field-magnifiers with me," Boxey said as he detached an
object from the left side of his holster.
   "Then you take a look," Starbuck stepped aside and allowed the
black-haired lieutenant to push away the foliage of the bush so he
could see.  Boxey then brought the magnifiers up to his eyes with the
other hand and focused his attention on the center of the field.
   "I think I see some movement going on," he said in a low tone,
"Those plants are moving, and I don't think it's the wind." Boxey made
a quick adjustment to the magnifiers and squinted through them to catch
the clearest possible glimpse of what was causing the plants to move.
   Finally, he saw it.  First one, then a second, then another, and
finally a whole cluster of them.
   "I see them!" he whispered in exhilaration, "A whole bunch of them,
and they're human all right but----" abruptly his voice trailed off and
he frowned.
   "What?" Starbuck touched his arm.
   Boxey shook his head, "Those are the strangest looking humans I've
ever seen.  They don't look like agro-workers."
   "Let me see," Starbuck took the magnifiers from Boxey and focused
his attention on the maize field.
   He could see what looked like twelve to fifteen humans aimlessly
wandering about through the field.  What amazed Starbuck was their
primitive, unkempt appearance.  The men and women were all golden in
complexion with shaggy manes of dark brown hair that fell past their
shoulders, with the men all sporting enormously thick, scraggly beards. 
All of them were practically naked, wearing only small loincloth type
garments that seemed to be made from a coarse bark material rather than
animal skin.  But what amazed Starbuck the most was the posture and
bearing of the humans.  They seemed to slouch and move about in a
haphazard, reckless manner, some of them plucking an ear of maize from
the field, others just thrashing about the tall plants.
   The magnifiers suddenly gave him a close-up of the face of one of
the men, and Starbuck suddenly realized what it was that disturbed him
the most about these humans.  It was the eyes.  Vacant.  Devoid of any
sense of reason or rationality.
   The longer Starbuck's eyes lingered on them, the more he began to
realize that these humans reminded him more of animals than people. 
The way some of them picked at the maize almost put Starbuck in mind of
watching a bovine grazing in a pasture.  But the disheveled, primitive
appearance of them suggested something more savage than a bovine.
   "Well?" Boxey asked, waiting to hear the veteran warrior's analysis.
   Starbuck lowered the magnifiers and shook his head, "They look like
a group that escaped from the Nuthouse.  Whatever they are, they're not
the ones we eventually make contact with."  
   "Captain," Hera was still looking at her micro-scanner, "I'm now
getting an indication of more lifeforms coming this way.  But the
scanner says they're not human."
   Before Starbuck could respond to her, the three warriors heard a low
rumbling noise that seemed to he headed towards the maize field from
the area to their left.
   "Sounds like a herd of equines," Starbuck said as he focused his
magnifiers to the left of the maize field.  Right away, he could see
that his hunch was correct.  The four-legged animals that held much
symbolism in the history of the Colonies (and had also been the logo of
the Battlestar Pegasus's flight squadrons) were quite distinct.  Not so
distinct were the riders.  Even with the magnifiers, they seemed too
indistinct, though Starbuck could make out what looked like thick,
leather clothing covering a dark body.
   "Looks like the agro-workers are arriving to deal with them,"
Starbuck lowered his magnifiers.
   "What workers?" Hera frowned, "Starbuck, my scanner isn't reading
any humans entering the area."
   The captain looked at her dubiously, "What do you mean it's not
picking up other humans?  There are people riding those equines so your
scanner has to show them."
   "Well it isn't!" Hera angrily thrust the device at the captain, "All
I'm getting are animal contacts."
   "For crying out loud," Starbuck shook his head in disbelief and
handed the magnifiers to the sandy-haired ensign, "Look Hera, see for
yourself."
   Hera stepped forward and raised the magnifiers so she could look out
into the maize field.
   Five microns later, she abruptly dropped the device.
   "Lords of Kobol," Hera staggered back two steps and whispered in
horror.  A tone of horror that Boxey and Starbuck had never heard in
her voice before.
   "What?" Boxey came over and put a hand on her shoulder, "What do you
see?"
   "Those aren't people riding them," she whispered and wildly gestured
her hand, "Look."
   Starbuck and Boxey both peered out through the bushes and their jaws
fell open in shock when they saw clearly the figures riding on the
equines.
   "Siminoids," the captain whispered under his breath.
   Only Starbuck had ever seen a siminoid at one time in his life. 
When he was ten yahrens old and living in the orphanage set up for the
Umbra disaster survivors, he'd been taken on an outing with the other
children to the Caprica Animal Preserve, located deep on the southern
continent as an untouched shelter for rare and endangered species of
animals to roam free.  The one group of animals he'd seen that had
scared him the most, even from the safety of an air tram overlooking
the Preserve, were the class known as siminoids.  Because siminoids
were the one known class of animals that had physiologies similar to
human beings in general terms, the young Starbuck had found their
repelling appearance reminiscent of the deformed monsters he'd see in
his childhood nightmares.  That was especially true of the siminoid
class known as 'gorillas.'  The smaller siminoids called 'chimpanzees'
and the orange colored ones dubbed 'orangutans' came off as slightly
more docile, but the sight of the wild gorillas going on a rampage
through the Preserve and slaughtering several other animals with their
brute strength for food proved to be unnevering for most of the
children riding the air tram.  Starbuck could still remember burying
his face in his hands to avoid looking at the sight, and then becoming
fearful that the tram would suffer a mishap that would cause them to
crash into the Preserve and be terrorized by the gorillas. 
   The creatures riding the equinians were clearly of the gorilla
class.  And what made them more frightening then the beasts Starbuck
recalled from childhood were that these gorillas had the proper dress
and bearing of normal human beings.  To the three Galactica warriors it
was a scene that suggested a total reversal in roles.
   Neither Boxey nor Hera had ever seen a siminoid in person at any
time in their lives.  The decision had been made during the hasty
period of the Exodus from the Colonies not to take any specimens with
them, since it was deemed that they served no useful purpose for
humans.  But the uneasiness they had produced in humans remained a part
of Colonial culture.  Many books and entertainment stories that spun
tales of colorful, hideous monsters frequently used the siminoids as a
starting point for their graphic descriptions.  In time, the younger
generation of children who had never seen a live siminoid, had come to
think of them as something that only inhabited their nightmares.
   The stunned horror on Starbuck, Hera, and Boxey's faces only
increased when they saw that the gorillas were carrying long guns that
they recognized as ancient numos, which fired metallic projectiles from
a compressed air mechanism.  And as soon as they converged on the
humans roaming the field, the gorillas immediately cocked their numos
and began to open fire.
   As the warriors saw two humans fall to the ground, Hera turned to
Starbuck, seething with anger, "Aren't we going to do something?"
   Starbuck was in a state of shock.  The order was to avoid all
contact with the natives, but this was one scenario that no one had
ever envisioned in a million yahrens.
   "We probably should," he drew out his laser pistol, "Those are
brothers of ours getting slaughtered.  Maybe some laser fire will scare
them off."
   "I agree," Boxey pulled out his own laser pistol and flicked the
switch that increased the setting from light to heavy stun.  Hera and
Starbuck though, went one step further and adjusted the setting to
kill.
   "Okay," Starbuck said over the crack of the numo shots as he moved
into position by the edge of the bush, "On my signal, charge out and
open fire."
   Starbuck poked his head through the bushes and saw that there were
six gorillas in all riding equines, four of them armed with numos, the
other two riding side-by-side and holding what looked like a giant net. 
As they bore down on a cluster of fleeing humans, he instantly realized
that it was meant to trap them in the same way a fisherman would catch
fish from the sea.
   "NOW!" Starbuck shouted as he darted out of the bushes and into the
clearing.  Boxey and Hera were right at his feet.  The grizzled captain
promptly took aim at one of the gorillas holding the net and fired. 
The red streak of laser fire sailed across the field and struck the
siminoid right in the chest.  Instantly, he fell off his mount to the
ground causing the net to go slack.
   The flaming red streak and its powerful impact was a sight that none
of the humans or apes had ever seen before.  It caught them completely
by surprise at first.  When the gorillas saw where the red streaks were
coming from, looks of total incredulity came over their faces.
   The primitive humans began to wildly scatter about in different
directions, taking advantage of the confusion that had set in.  As the
gorillas tried to regroup, Starbuck, Boxey and Hera kept up their
barrage of fire.  Two more gorillas were knocked off their horses and
collapsed to the ground.
   And then, it was the warriors turn to be shocked when the lead
gorilla suddenly shouted in the clearest sounding voice, "Regroup! 
Regroup!"
   The sound of normal speech emanating from something they had only
thought of in terms of a savage animal was an even more shocking
revelation for the Galactica warriors.  It caused Starbuck to lower his
guard for just a split second.  A split second that gave one of the
remaining gorillas time to aim his rifle and fire.
   Starbuck felt the lead projectile hit him in the right shoulder.  He
staggered two steps back and dropped his laser into the thick grass
bordering the maize field.  He gritted his teeth in pain as he got down
to try and dig it up.
   Hera and Boxey quickly took time to regroup and got off another shot
at the gorilla who had wounded Starbuck.  His shot struck the horse
inside, and the animal let out a wild sound of pain, throwing its
occupant clear off into the brush.
   The remaining two gorillas managed to get clear of the area and rode
off back the way they had come.  They were soon too far away for the
Galactica warriors to get off any more shots.
   "Starbuck!" Hera shouted with concern as she and Boxey sprinted to
where he was still clutching his shoulder and trying to find his laser
pistol.
   "I'll be okay," he grunted as he clenched his teeth, "Frack!"
   "I think we've worn out our welcome on our first visit to Earth,"
Boxey said with no mirth as he looked about the field and shook his
head in disbelief, "What kind of a planet is this place?  Talking
siminoids that act like humans, and humans that act like....." he
trailed off and shuddered.
   "That act like siminoids," his sister finished for him.  "None of
this makes any sense."
   Starbuck finally found his laser pistol and reattached it to his
holster.  Feeling the sting in his shoulder increase, he threw off his
uniform jacket.  It instantly exposed the red blood stain on his tunic
underneath where the projectile had penetrated.
   "Is that projectile still in you, or did it just graze off?" Boxey
asked with concern.
   Starbuck shook his head, "It's still in there." he let out a grim
chuckle, "I guess Cassie's going to have to do some old-fashioned
surgery to take care of this."
   "Can you fly?"
   Again, Starbuck chuckled as he tore off a strip of material from his
jacket to use as a makeshift tourniquet, "After thirty yahrens of
getting shot at with lasers by Cylons, I'm not about to let a numo
projectile from a siminoid ground me."
   "Let's get out of here," Hera said, "This is not the time to go
investigating any further.  Not without a whole assault team of
warriors."
   "Agreed," the captain nodded.  "Although how we explain this to the
Commander is not going to be easy."
   They had started to move toward the forest that led back to their
vipers when they heard the low, ominous rumble of equines in the
distance yet again.  They turned back and saw to their horror more than
twenty gorillas charging toward them at incredible speed.
   "Take cover!" Starbuck shouted as the three warriors suddenly
scattered about the field.  "There's too many of them!"
   Hera dashed toward the far side of the maize field where another
stretch of forest loomed.  She heard the crack of numo shots whistling
over her head and felt her heart pumping faster than it had during her
first and only viper combat engagement with Cylon fighters.
   The tall grassy weeds sloped up toward the entry point into the
forest.  Hera threw herself behind a rock directly at the top of the
slope and crouched into a ready position.  She could see two siminoid
riders headed directly toward her.
   She rapidly got to her feet and fired at point blank range.  Her
shots hit their targets, and the two gorillas fell off.
   To her horror, she could see that the maize field was literally
being overrun by more than thirty gorillas brandishing numos and nets. 
It had reached a point where she knew that even with her superior laser
pistol, she and her fellow warriors didn't stand a chance of fighting
them off all by themselves.
   Hera whipped out her mini-comm, "Starbuck, Boxey, do you read me?"
   There was no response.  She strained her eyes down below trying to
locate where they were.  Finally, after a micron she saw Starbuck rise
up from the middle of the field to a standing position where he seemed
ready to open fire on a new pack of charging siminoids.
   "Starbuck!" Hera shouted, "Get out of there!"
   Whether he heard her or not, she couldn't tell.  The grizzled
captain had an air of defiance on his face as he opened fire at the
charging hoard.
   Another shot from the numo then rang out, and Hera saw in horror
that Starbuck had been hit in the shoulder yet again.  He staggered
back two steps slightly and seemed on the verge of collapsing into the
field when two riders brandishing a net suddenly scooped it down into
the field and snagged the warrior in it.
   The horses dragged the net for more than twenty feet, and Hera could
see Starbuck tangled up inside the roped prison, thrashing himself
about.  He had lost his laser pistol and was totally helpless at this
point.
   Hera was on the verge of charging out to shoot the two gorillas who
had captured Starbuck, but she had no sooner gone two feet into the
open when she saw a column of ten gorilla riders holding back.  She
instantly cursed herself, because she now realized that they'd been
waiting for her to expose herself.
   "Get that human!" the lead gorilla, who seemed to be wearing a more
military type of clothing with several epaulets at the shoulders,
shouted at the top of his voice as he pointed toward Hera.  "Don't let
her escape!"
   The young female warrior realized that there was nothing she could
do for Starbuck at this point.  Her first duty was to avoid capture and
find some way of getting word back to the Galactica.
   She saw that the equine from one of the gorillas she'd shot, was
aimlessly wandering about, ten feet away.  As the siminoid riders
started to move toward her, Hera realized that the animal offered her
only chance.
   She sprinted towards it, and managed to leap on to the animal's
back.  It was the first time in her life that she'd ever tried to ride
an equine, since there were so few of them kept in the Fleet and no
facilities for riding them.  But she had played a number of computer
games in the Rejuvenation Center ever since she was a child to know how
the riding principal worked.  Now, all the memories of those childhood
games would be more important to her immediate survival than any of the
things she'd been taught in the Warrior Training School.
   As soon as she was on the animal, she jerked the reins with all her
strength and gave the equine a firm kick in the side with her boot. 
The animal reared itself up and let out a whinny of pain, but then
began to move off at incredible speed.
   Hera almost lost her hold on the animal but held on to the reins
tightly and within microns had managed to settle into a comfortable
riding position.  The equine galloped at a fast pace down the length of
the open field toward a cluster of green covered hills in the distance. 
A quick glance indicated to Hera that the jungle was much denser and
thicker in that area.
   She looked back and saw that at least seven of the gorillas were
still pursuing her.  For the moment, she was maintaining an even pace
with them, which would keep them from catching up.  But how long she'd
be able to do that, she had no way of knowing.
   Above the sounds of the galloping, she heard the crack of another
numo shot.  It only added to the sense of horror she felt that this was
every childhood nightmare come to life.  It took her mind back to when
she was five, she had dreamed of being chased in a dark, empty ship by
a horrific-looking siminoid.  It had been so frightening that she had
waken up crying and screaming, which brought Apollo and Sheba dashing
in from the next room to see what was wrong and then comfort her.  She
could remember her mother holding her tight and whispering tenderly
again and again, "Don't be afraid Hera.  There are no siminoids. 
You'll never be hurt by one for as long as you live.
   As the memory filled her mind, Hera almost felt like laughing.  This
was going to be the most memorable day of her life, but it had turned
out that way for entirely different reasons.
   Crack!
   This time, Hera not only heard the numo burst, she could also hear
the sound of the projectile whistling over her head.  She didn't need
to turn around to realize that the siminoids were getting closer.
   She had to admit the obvious.  She could not outrun them
indefinitely.  She had to make another tactical move if she was going
to elude them.
   She could feel her equine going up the incline of a hill and when it
reached the top, the ground began to rapidly slope downward at an
almost forty-five degree angle.  She realized in an instant that she
was out of sight of her pursuers for the time being.  That meant she
had to make some kind of move before they reached the top of the
incline.
   Hera tugged at the reins to get the equine to slow down.  As soon as
the animal's speed slackened, she let go and threw herself off, making
sure that she'd tucked herself into a roll position that would soften
her impact with the ground.
   Immediately, she got to her feet and sprinted toward the forest
bordering the left side of the field.  She made it inside just as she
heard the pounding hoofbeats of her pursuers come soaring over the top
of the incline.  And then, they slackened off indicating that the
equines had come to a stop.
   Hera tried to keep her breathing under control as she pressed
herself behind a tree and went absolutely still.  The slightest sound
could be enough to tip them off.
   "Where did she go?" she heard one of the gorillas bellow, "Where did
that scum go?"
   "I can't tell, General Ursus," an apologetic voice answered, "It
looks like she's hid herself."
   "Do we keep searching, General?" another voice chimed in.
   There was a brief silence before the gruff sounding voice of the one
identified as General Ursus spoke.
   "No, I suppose we shouldn't waste any more time, since we've already
got one of them.  The sooner we go back and present him to Dr. Zaius,
the better.  Our Chief Scientist is going to have a lot of explaining
to do."
   One of them, Hera thought to herself as she remained motionless. 
That meant they hadn't captured Boxey.
   "I disagree sir," an urgent voice spoke up, "You saw what they could
do with those....those fire guns!  If one of them is allowed to stay
free, let alone two, it could mean disaster for us all!"
   "I appreciate your sense of urgency, Urko," Ursus said gently, "But
I think we should send in some fresh reinforcements to look for both of
those humans.  They won't have much trouble spotting them."
   She heard the equines start to move back in the other direction.  A
moment later, there was nothing but the quiet sound of the wind blowing
through the tall field grass and the occasional chirping of a bird.
   Cautiously, Hera stuck her head out and saw that the field was
empty.  She exhaled with relief and reached for her mini-comm.  But
when she touched the spot on her holster where it should have been, she
felt nothing.  She looked down and saw that it was gone.
   "Frack," she gritted her teeth in anger.  She must have dropped it
or else it had been jarred loose when she had made her impulsive leap
onto the equine's back.  Whatever the case, she was totally unable to
make contact with her brother, wherever he was now.  And she knew that
Starbuck was a prisoner of the siminoids, about to be taken to wherever
they'd come from.
   She knew she had to make her way back to her viper, but at this
point she wasn't sure if she could retrace her steps back to where
she'd landed.  She'd been forced to cover so much ground to get away
from the siminoids that it would probably take a miracle just to find
her way back.  And since the siminoids planned on sending out
reinforcements, it was probably too dangerous anyway to retrace her
steps.
   What then?
   She sat down at the base of the tree as she let out a weary sigh and
stretched her arms out.  She needed to do a lot of thinking about what
her next move was going to be.
   What would you do, Mother?  she idly asked herself.  Or you, Father? 
And what would Grandpa Cain do if he were in a spot like this?  She had
always loved hearing the stories Sheba had told her about her maternal
grandfather's legendary exploits.  About how the warrior known as the
Juggernaut always managed to find his way out of the tightest spots
imaginable in combat.
   But then again, she reflected, it was one thing to try and fight
back against an attacking armada of Cylon fighters and baseships with
smaller numbers.  This was something entirely different.  It was a
scenario where she was truly alone, and left with very little to
improvise an effective counter-move.
   Survival would have to come first.  She needed to make sure there
was food and water to subsist on for the short-term.  For all she knew
she might have to lie low for a considerable length of time before it
would be safe to try and head back.  And by that time, it was
conceivable that their failure to report would cause the Galactica to
send out a search team of their own.
   She lowered her hands and saw that the ring Apollo had given her was
still there.  The sight of it made her chuckle the grimmest chuckle of
her life.  Her father had wanted her to wear it so her grandparents
would find a way of symbolically being there at the end of the long
journey to Earth.  Now it almost seemed as though the greatest
practical joke in the history of the universe had been played on them. 

   Was this what you led us across the universe to find, Grandfather?
   Hera finally got to her feet and realized that asking questions that
couldn't be answered for now was a complete waste of time.  It was time
for her to move on.
   She checked her holster.  She still had her laser pistol, and the
micro-scanner was still in place.  It would certainly come in handy for
now.  She detached the scan device and pointed it toward the heart of
the jungle.
   A blipping sound registered again and she quickly checked the
readout.  She breathed a little easier when she saw that the readout
indicated the contacts somewhere in the distance were all humans.
   But what kind of humans?  Would there be some intelligent ones she
could communicate with?  Or were they more of those savage, primitive
looking ones that the siminoids had been hunting down?
   Knowing that those were questions that could be answered, and needed
to be answered now, she detached her laser and cautiously made her way
deeper into the thick, lush foliage.


   Far away, the daily rituals of life were going on in the community
that General Ursus and the gorillas were making their way back to. 
Here, nearly twenty thousand gorillas, chimpanzees and orangutans lived
in the stone dwellings of Ape City, obediently following the rigid laws
of the Sacred Scrolls handed down a thousand years ago by their great
Lawgiver.  The laws that had become the backbone of ape culture. 
Declaring that apes alone were the only sentient race that had been
given the gift of intelligence and rationality by God, and that they
ruled supreme over all lesser forms of life.  Particularly the hated
beast called man.  
   There were distinctions among the three classes of apes in how they
viewed men.  By far, the gorillas with their warlike instincts hated
man the most.  They saw the beast as a perpetual scavenger that stole
and plundered the food crops needed for apes, and as a result they were
the ones who always went out on the hunts to clear away the scavengers
from the fields.  Although they had orders to bring as many back alive,
they much preferred it when they were able to kill them.
   Orangutans, who constituted the entire Ruling Class of Ape
Civilization, held the same hatred and contempt for man as a scavenger
that the gorillas felt.  The only difference was that they had little
taste for killing for pleasure and sport as the gorillas did.  They
much preferred to let the gorillas do what they regarded as the dirty
work.  So long as humans stayed away and didn't encroach on Ape
territory, they were content to leave them be.  But those humans that
did encroach, could be put to use, so while the gorillas preferred to
shoot them all dead, they preferred to keep humans in cages and have
them perform any labor tasks that their irrational primitive minds were
capable of accomplishing.
   Chimpanzees were the only group of apes that had the remotest trace
of sympathy for humans.  Not that they saw them as anything that could
be potentially as great as an ape, but they did feel that treated with
compassion, the savage instincts of man could be domesticated and
tamed.  If so treated, then ultimately humans could do more for apes
than the mere slave labor tasks that the orangutans only saw them as
good for.  But they only wanted to see humans become pets, not train
them to recapture an intelligence that none of them knew had once
existed in the species long ago.
   Two chimpanzees who knew better about humans, were the psychologist
Zira, and her new husband, the archeologist Cornelius.  They alone knew
firsthand that man did have the capacity to think and reason.  All
because of their chance meeting with a man who spoke and called himself
Taylor.
   Since their return to Ape City after leaving Taylor and Nova to go
journeying up the coastline on horseback, events had moved rapidly
forward in the lives of the psychologist and archeologist.  They had
finally gone ahead with their long-delayed plans to marry and had done
so in a quick ceremony.  And then, they had to prepare themselves for a
trial before the Ruling Class Tribunal, which at Dr. Zaius's
instigation had charged them with one count each of scientific heresy.
   As they sat in the stone-backed chairs and waited for the three
orangutans who comprised the Tribunal to enter, there were different
emotions raging through the two chimpanzees.  Cornelius felt a sense of
resignation that left him prepared to accept anything the Tribunal
would sentence him to.  All his life, he'd carried within him a
perpetual instinct for trying to avoid confrontation and conflict.  It
was the reason why he was so ordinarily reserved in demeanor and so
uncomfortable taking bold steps.  He knew it was why he'd been so
reluctant for many years to ask Zira to become his wife.  And he also
knew why he had been so reluctant to even think of presenting the
evidence of what he had found in the dig inside the Forbidden Zone.
   The dig, he thought with a trace of grim irony.  That place where he
had found traces of a human civilization that dated back far earlier
than the recorded time when the Sacred Scrolls had been written by the
Lawgiver.  He'd been too terrified to think of making his findings
public.  It represented the greatest possible challenge to the codes
that Apes had lived under for countless generations.  It made a mockery
of the sacred idea in Ape religion that they alone had been chosen by
the Almighty to possess the gift of intelligence and rational thought,
and that the Ape had been created in the Almighty's image.  For if
intelligent humans had existed before intelligent apes had, the concept
didn't have any legs to stand on.
   Taylor had forced Dr. Zaius to confront the dig when he had escaped
into the Forbidden Zone with Cornelius and Zira's help.  He had forced
the Chief Scientist to see the evidence that had existed in the cave
alongside the ocean.  The tools.  The artifacts.  The human doll that
talked.
   Dr. Zaius had put up a blustering facade at first, but even he
eventually conceded that he had always known about the truth of what
man was long before Cornelius had told him about the dig.
   "The Forbidden Zone was once a Paradise," he had said with angry
defiance to Taylor, "Your breed made a wasteland of it."
   And so, the Chief Scientist had let Taylor and Nova go off on their
journey up the coastline, giving him the cryptic warning, "You may not
like what you find."  It indicated that Dr. Zaius knew of things deep
inside the Forbidden Zone that far exceeded anything Cornelius had
found in the dig.
   But as soon as Taylor and Nova had gone, the Chief Scientist had
ordered the cave destroyed.  And he had also vowed to have Cornelius
and Zira brought up on charges of heresy.  Not because he believed the
charge, but because he was determined to not let the truth about
mankind get out.  For now, Dr. Zaius's duty as Chief Defender of the
Faith exceeded his duty as the Chief Scientist and promoter of Truth
and Knowledge.  That meant convicting Cornelius and Zira of the false
charge that they had made Taylor a talking beast through corrupt,
experimental surgery on a typical mute human.  That was the only
explanation that could reassure the general ape public that there were
no such things as talking humans.
   The trial had been swift and quick, exactly as the two chimpanzees
had expected it to be.  And now, they awaited news from the Tribunal as
to their sentence.
   Cornelius glanced at his wife and could see the look of anger
boiling up inside her.  Temperamentally, his wife was the opposite of
him.  Zira possessed a sharp tongue, a quick temper and a willingness
to speak her mind whenever she felt like it, no matter how much she
risked getting herself into trouble.  In many ways, her feistiness was
why he had fallen in love with her so many years ago.  But now, he
found himself praying to the God he still believed in (even though he
no longer believed in the truth of the Sacred Scrolls that claimed to
be written in His name) that Zira would hold her tongue on this day. 
If she made any angry outbursts, it would probably mean a stiff prison
sentence and total ruination for them both.
   The door to the far right of the room opened and the three
orangutans who made up the Tribunal entered and sat down at the table
in front of the two chimpanzees.  The President of the Ape Assembly,
the nominal civil government of Ape Civilization, took his place at the
center of the table with the two other members flanking him.  He tapped
his gavel, signaling that the Tribunal was now in formal session.
   "This tribunal has weighed all of the evidence presented against the
accused and has at last reached its decision." he began in that
sonorous tone that had long ago earned him the respect of every
legislator in the Ape Assembly.
   Cornelius felt himself tense and reached under the table to squeeze
Zira's hand. 
   "The tribunal finds you, Dr. Cornelius, and you, Dr. Zira, guilty of
one charge of promoting scientific heresy," the President said
solemnly, "Please rise to await sentence."
   The two chimpanzees dutifully rose from their stone backed chairs.
   "Ordinarily, the sentence for such an offense against our Faith is
two years in prison.  However, at the request of Dr. Zaius, who brought
the indictment against you, the tribunal shall exercise the leniency
that Ape Law is so noted for."
   Zira felt herself almost biting her lower lip in an effort to avoid
making a sarcastic retort.
   "Cornelius.  Zira.  The tribunal suspends the sentence of prison
time.  Dr. Zira, because your heresy stems from your dangerous
interactions with humans, your license to study them is revoked for a
period of not less than two years.  You will continue to receive your
full salary and benefits as a psychologist, but you must now turn your
attention to another species of animal....or your own race."
   The psychologist's mouth fell open slightly in a mixture of anger
and amazement.  Cornelius felt himself fearing the worst, that his wife
would make an outburst that would immediately bring a harsher sentence
against her.  To his relief, she said nothing.
   The President then turned his gaze to Zira's new husband,
"Cornelius, you too shall receive no loss of pay and benefits as an
employee of the Ministry of Science.  However, you are forbidden from
engaging in any future archeological studies and like Zira, are
forbidden to ever speak or mention the name of the mutant being called
'Taylor' to anyone from this day forward."
   Cornelius kept his expression stoic, his bearing firm and erect.
   "Do you accept the judgment of this tribunal, and pledge on the
Sacred Scrolls that you will abide by it?"
   "I so pledge," the archeologist said with only a hint of
resignation.
   "And you, Zira?"
   Zira suppressed an urge to spit on the President, "I so pledge," she
angrily forced her words out.
   "So be it," the President rapped his gavel, "This tribunal now
stands adjourned.  You are both free to go."
   The three orangutans rose and departed, leaving the two chimpanzees
alone.
   Cornelius let out a sigh of relief, "Much less than I expected," he
said, "We should both feel grateful."
   "Grateful?" Zira bolted from her chair and threw a withering glance
at her husband, "Convicted unjustly and deprived of our livelihood, and
you feel grateful?"
   "Would you have preferred prison, Zira?" he looked up at her and
kept his tone patient, "That's not how I would have preferred to start
our new life as a married couple."
   "Always putting self-interest ahead of the truth!" she said in an
angry huff as she sat down again.
   Cornelius kept his attention on her.
   "What do you want of me, Zira?" he asked, "If you're asking me to
become an angry crusader for reform, I can't do it.  As long as there
is a Ruling Class that believes in stifling the Truth, there is little
you or I or any other chimpanzee can do.  If God willing our society is
to reform itself some day, it will have to take place because of change
from within their ranks."
   She avoided looking at him and folded her arms in defiance.
   "Your trouble Cornelius, is that you're like most chimpanzees," she
said, "Always content with your lot.  Always content to be a permanent
second-class citizen in our stratified society."
   "Fate could have picked something worse for me," he injected a tiny
edge of levity into his voice, "I could have been born a gorilla.  Even
you will concede Zira, that as chimpanzees we do occupy the
middle-class of Ape Society.  We enjoy privileges and benefits that no
gorilla will ever know."
   "Gorillas will never know what it means to think!" she spat, "And
we've seen firsthand how perpetually closed-minded orangutans will
always be!"
   Cornelius looked toward the door and then froze in horror when he
saw the orangutan who was Chief Scientist standing there.
   "Zira!" he hissed, "Dr. Zaius is here."
   The psychologist looked up and flushed with embarrassment.
   "You have a very powerful way with words, Dr. Zira," the orangutan
smiled as he made his way over to them, using his cane for support,
"It's a pity that chimpanzees can't serve in the Assembly."
   "Dr. Zaius," Cornelius got to his feet and practically stammered his
words, "My deepest apologies for Zira's conduct.  I hope that----"
   The orangutan raised his cane and smiled disarmingly, "Do not
apologize Cornelius.  All legal matters pertaining to the both of you
are done with.  In fact, were I in your position I would probably feel
the same way."  he sat down in the chair next to Zira.  "But I gave you
my word during our return from the Forbidden Zone that I would see to
it that neither of you spent a day in prison or lost a penny in wages. 
You should have been more trusting of me."
   Zira forced herself to look at the Chief Scientist, "You also gave
us your word that the contents of the cave would be revealed!"
   "Yes, yes, I know," Dr. Zaius lowered his head, "Were I a younger
ape with more faith in my fellow simian, I would have kept my word
about that.  But I am at a stage in my life where I have no desire to
be the instrument of the greatest social upheaval our civilization
would have known in untold hundreds of years."
   "You yourself said that the teachings of the Sacred Scrolls about
Man can be reconciled with the existence of an ancient human
civilization," Cornelius said, "Surely it would not be as great an
upheaval as you fear for Apes to know the truth of that."
   "I am not worried about the preservation of our religion and the
Sacred Scrolls," Dr. Zaius said, "It is the greater Unknown that I
fear.  Of what potentially lies beyond the Forbidden Zone that Taylor
and his woman now seek."
   "Do you know what lies there, Dr. Zaius?" Zira asked pointedly.
   Again, the orangutan smiled and got to his feet.
   "Come to my office in the Ministry," he said, "And to show my
penance for subjecting you to the humility of this Tribunal, I will
share with you something that no other ape has had the privilege of
seeing."
   Cornelius and Zira exchanged puzzled glances with each other as they
followed the Chief Scientist out.


   Three gorillas on horseback continued to patrol the perimeter of the
maize field, keeping a sharp eye peeled for the two strangely dressed
humans they'd been ordered to capture.
   "Anything to report?" a young gorilla captain named Quintus came up
to them.
   "Nothing sir," one of the scouts said, "We've gone over a ten mile
radius to the East and found nothing."
   "Did it occur to any of you that you might be better advised
checking the jungle regions?" there was an air of frost in Captain
Quintus's voice.  "Show some initiative!"
   "Yes sir, yes sir!"  the scout hastily saluted and turned to the
other two, "Investigate the northern forest line.  Then move on to the
southern line.  We'll fan out from there."
   Twelve feet into the southern line there was movement from a pile of
leaves.  As soon as the sounds of the equines had faded into the forest
on the opposite side of the maize field, the clump was pushed aside and
Boxey emerged at last from his hiding place.
   The Lords of Kobol be praised for camouflage survival courses, he
thought as he got to his feet.  And also for siminoids too dumb to
divide up their forces.
   He promptly dashed back toward the other side of the forest.  Back
in the direction of the field where he and Hera and Starbuck had left
their vipers.  As concerned as he was about what had happened to his
sister and the man who had been his mentor and close friend since he
was a child, the first priority was to get in touch with the Galactica
and let them know what was happening.
   As soon as he reached the exit point of the jungle perimeter, he
tripped over a vine and turned his ankle.  He let out a shout of pain
as he crashed to the ground and scraped his knee against the hard dirt
surface.
   Boxey got to his feet and calmly collected himself before moving on. 
His ankle was throbbing angrily and he realized that he could no longer
run.  Fortunately, he knew that didn't pose as much of a problem for
him as it would have had the siminoids still been pursuing him.
   At his reduced speed, it took him almost a half-centar before he
could see the outline of the vipers looming in the distance.  After all
that the Galactica warrior had been subjected to, they were the most
welcome sight he could ever recall seeing.
   He saw that his mini-comm was still on his holster.  He detached it
and activated it.
   "Hera?" he said into it, "Hera do you copy me?"
   There was a burst of static.  It indicated that her comm-line was
active somewhere.
   "Hera?" he repeated, "Hera?"
   Still nothing.
   Instantly, Boxey realized that his sister didn't have her device any
longer.  In all likelihood, she had probably dropped it somewhere.  If
true, then he couldn't dare risk using it again.  For all he knew, it
might be picked up by one of the searching siminoids.
   Stay calm, he said to himself over and over.  Stay calm.  The first
priority is making contact with the Galactica.  Nothing more.
   Even though that would mean having to tell both his father and
mother that he didn't know what had happened to Starbuck and Hera.
   They'll be fine, he tried to reassure himself.  Starbuck's been
through these kind of things more than once in his lifetime. And Hera. 
Well by God, she's so damned good that her instinct for survival is
probably even greater.  But then again, she has Cain's blood in her.  I
don't.
   As the black-haired lieutenant drew closer on his injured leg, the
vipers grew steadily more distinct.
   Boxey then stopped in his tracks and frowned.  He could have sworn
he'd seen some dark shape moving along the top of the viper that was
closest to him.  At first he thought it was just a reflection off the
open cockpit canopy.  But then, he saw it again.  It was clearly some
kind of creature moving across the top.
   "Hey!" Boxey shouted and suddenly began to run again, in spite of
the pain he felt in his leg.
   The creature looked up as soon as it heard his voice.  In an
instant, Boxey saw that it was one of the primitive humans he'd seen
roaming the field.  And in the next instance, he saw to his horror that
the human was holding several cables that he had pulled out of the
viper control panels.
   "Get out of there!" he shouted again and ran toward the craft, "Get
out of there!"
   And then, Boxey felt an intense fury overtake him as he pulled out
his laser pistol and opened fire.  It struck the human in the chest and
he fell off the craft to the ground.
   When the warrior reached the viper he wasted little time hoisting
himself up.  When he looked in, he felt his heart sink in agony when he
saw that all of the control panels and circuits had been ripped and
plucked out.  There was nothing in there that would function.
   He tried to hold out some hope that the other two vipers were still
intact, but by the time he reached them and had a chance to look
inside, he saw only more of the same.  The three sleek vipers had been
pillaged completely into worthless piles of junk by the bands of mute
humans he had earlier tried to protect.
   "Frack, felgercarb and shit!" he bellowed as he gave a savage kick
to the side of the last of the vipers, again ignoring how it
exacerbated the pain in his leg.  "Frack, felgercarb and shit!"
   He collapsed against the base of the viper and almost felt like
crying.  This was the first time in his life that he could honestly say
he felt hopelessly alone.
   What made things worse was that he knew he couldn't stay in the area
to try and look for Hera and Starbuck or wait for a rescue team from
the Galactica to come.  Sooner or later, the siminoids would extend
their search perimeter.  And the pain he felt in his ankle was now
telling him that there was no way he could run from a large number of
them.
   If he was to survive, he needed to get as far away from the
siminoids as he possibly could.  And hopefully, he might find some
intelligent people he could make contact with at last.  It was hard for
him to believe that the things he'd seen in this short period of time
represented the full extent of what there was on Earth.
   If it did, then he couldn't begin to imagine the sense of betrayal
it would produce among the people of the Fleet.  They would be forced
to confront the terrible prospect that twenty-five yahrens of sacrifice
and struggle in a flight from the Cylons that had taken them all the
way across the galaxy had all been for nothing.
   Boxey noticed a survival kit pack lying on the ground ten feet away
from him.  One of the pillaging humans had evidently tossed it out
without giving any thought to what it was.  He made his way over and
prayed that the contents were still intact.  When he opened it, he
breathed a sigh of relief.  Three days worth of protein bars, and two
full canteens of water still lined the box's interior.  Along with an
additional mini-scanner and a pair of infra-red goggles for night
vision.
   He searched about the debris on the ground for another five centons
and found an extra water canteen from one of the other viper survival
packs.  He clipped it to his holster and decided it would be the first
one he would use.  After he picked up the intact kit, he looked about
and tried to decide where he would move next.
   Far away to the East, he could see the imposing form of tall, craggy
mountains and peaks beckoning.  That was undoubtedly the desert area
they had flown over before landing.  There had been a large body of
water in that area, but no indications of many lifeforms as it did for
the jungle areas.
   It seemed foolish to think that was the direction he should go in. 
Yet something inside Boxey told him that the best plan of action was to
head toward those peaks and into the desert.  He couldn't understand
what that something was, yet he felt it just the same.
   He took a breath and gathered his strength as he began to walk
towards the foreboding, distant scene.

                    Chapter Three

   "Glad you came Boomer," Apollo smiled as his old friend entered the
Galactica's bridge.
   "Always a pleasure," the former warrior smiled back as he slowly
mounted the steps.  For many yahrens he had flown alongside Apollo and
Starbuck in so many missions, but that had all ended ten yahrens ago
when a battle injury had rendered Boomer's left arm permanently
paralyzed and useless.  And leaving him totally incapable of ever
flying a viper again.
   Unable to do the work he loved most, Boomer had opted to retire from
the Service altogether.  Becoming a Bridge Officer was something he
knew he wasn't cut out for.  And so, he had entered a new line of work
that tapped into his love of electronics, joining Dr. Wilker's staff of
scientists.
   Ten yahrens later, Wilker was dead and Boomer now ran the entire
operation (much to the distaste of Wilker's long-time assistant
Fairfax).  He had thrown himself into his new capacity with such
intensity that it had reached a point where he no longer missed being a
warrior.  Not to mention the fact that leaving the Service had made it
easier for him to finally settle down, marry Dietra and have a family.
   "What have you got?" the ex-warrior asked as he settled into the
chair on the upper level in front of Apollo's console.
   "Some new signals to compare with what you've been analyzing for the
last five sectars," Apollo said as he flicked the switch, "This is what
we believe is an Earth spacecraft our patrol encountered before they
went ahead to investigate the planet."
   "I heard about that," Boomer said, "Have they reported back yet?"
   "Not yet," Apollo shook his head, "I don't think it's anything to
worry about for now.  The way things are shaping up, we need as much
information carefully gathered as possible."
   "Let's hope it means nothing wrong," Sheba spoke up quietly, as she
stood off to one side.
   Apollo cast a quick glance at his wife and executive officer to give
her some silent reassurance and then returned his attention to the
monitor.
   "Let me ask your expert opinion, Boomer," the commander said, "Does
this resemble the spacecraft you first noticed in the gamma signals we
started to get a few sectars back?"
   Boomer frowned slightly at the contours of the spacecraft, and then
stuck several discs into the computer terminal.  An instant later, a
fuzzy broken image appeared on the adjacent monitor.  He activated the
image freeze mode and then leaned forward in his chair to look at both
monitors, using his good hand to rub his chin in contemplation.
   "Well?" Apollo asked, "Would you say we're looking at the same
spacecraft?" 
   The Electronics Scientist was silent as he continued to stare in
contemplation.  As he watched, Sheba came up alongside Apollo and they
both looked down at him with interest, waiting for Boomer to give his
assessment.
   Boomer settled back in his chair, a faint trace of incredulity on
his face, "I'd have to say that it's probably not the exact same
spacecraft but it's definitely from the same class.  You can tell that
the contours are almost the same, especially up front in the bow
areas," he glided his hand across the front of the fuzzy image on the
left, and then the clear image on the right.
   "But if you move further back on the current one," his hand
continued to move across the clear image, "It seems clear that there
are some differences.  Much bigger in the stern areas, suggesting more
space and more equipment.  But I would venture that they are close
enough to have been built within a relatively short time frame of each
other."
   Sheba noticed the expression on his face, "You look as though
there's something odd about that."
   Boomer awkward exhale, "Well ah, as a matter of fact there is."
   "What?" Apollo frowned, "Tell us."
   The ex-warrior seemed slightly embarrassed, "Commander, Colonel, I
have to level with you about something that my team didn't put in our
report when we first analyzed these gamma signals five sectars ago."
   Commander and Colonel, Sheba thought to herself.  If he's suddenly
getting formal with us, that means something's wrong.
   "What are you talking about, Boomer?" Apollo's tone took on an edge
of quiet demand.
   Boomer looked them in the eye, "Commander, I said at the time that I
couldn't make a preliminary guess on the time origin of these signals. 
Only that it was possible that we were looking at either an amplified
harmonic signal from nearby or a weak primary signal from a long way
off."
   "I know that," Apollo said, "And that if the latter were true, we'd
have to consider a signal that was...." he trailed off as he finally
added things up.
   "Something as old as a thousand yahrens ago," Sheba finished for
him.
   "Exactly," Boomer nodded, "And the reason why I didn't commit myself
was because once we learned in the next batch of signals that this
first one was connected with Earth, I didn't want to start raising
undue expectations about what kind of planet we'd find.  If Earth
possessed deep-space flight capability a thousand yaherns ago, then
simple logic would make us think that the Earth we end up finding has a
technology not dissimilar from our own."
   Apollo sat down in the chair next to Boomer's at the console.
   "Let me see if I get this straight," the commander said, "You in
fact believe that this initial signal was not an harmonic one."
   "That's right," Boomer nodded, "I believe it is intergalactic.  I
believe that it journeyed on a distant arc back towards us and the
Earth, and not away from it towards us."
   "You're sure of that," Sheba said more as statement than question.
   "I'm sure," the ex-warrior sighed, "Fairfax and Jobe concurred with
me.  And they also concurred that it was best we not emphasize that
aspect until we started getting signals that were closer and indicated
what we'd be up against with the present day Earth."
   Apollo stared at his friend with an expression that indicated he was
deeply disappointed.
   "You should have told us that, Boomer," Sheba decided to speak for
them both, "If you knew for certain that the initial signal was
intergalactic, you at least owed it to us, if not the rest of the
people."
   "I take full responsibility for that," Boomer said with regret.
   "We'll save the recriminations, if any, for another time," Apollo
tried not to show any anger, "But let's fit this information into the
context of what we know now.  Fact.  Earth had spaceflight capability a
thousand yahrens ago.  Fact.  Earth still has some kind of similar
spaceflight capability today, yet strangely enough gives off no signs
of technological development on our preliminary scans.  What does all
of that indicate?"
   Boomer took a breath, "It indicates the strangest puzzle I've ever
come across in my life, for which I have no credible answer at this
centon."
   "Colonel Sheba?" Apollo looked over at his wife, indicating that he
wanted her professional judgment.
   The executive officer lowered her head slightly as if to hide her
feelings of unease.  She then looked back and resumed her bearing,
"Boomer, can you play back the portions of the recording that confirmed
this first spacecraft was connected with Earth?"
   "Sure," the Electronics Scientist nodded, "Why?"
   "I just want to settle one lingering question about whether or not
these spacecraft are from Earth, or merely headed to Earth."  Sheba
said, "Because if the latter prospect is true, then we have to go ahead
with the primitive Earth contingency."
   "Sheba---" Apollo mildly protested, but his wife held up a hand.
   "Apollo, I think we've all been very premature in assuming that no
other outposts of humanity other than Terra exist in the known
universe.  What if these ships were just expeditionary probes from
another human civilization altogether, and that they have no connection
with the Earth as it is now?"
   Her husband looked her in the eye for a long moment and then nodded. 
"Okay Boomer, play that second tape."
   The ex-warrior pulled out the disc in the first machine and inserted
a second one.  Several microns later, another fuzzy, static-filled
image filled the screen.  It was clearly the image of a relatively
handsome human male smoking what resembled a fumarello cigar.
   "And that----report-------the Earth has-------since we left
it----While we've--------at all," the man was saying amidst a barrage
of indecipherable static that obscured half his words.
   "There, you hear that?" Boomer said as he stopped the recording and
froze the image, "Since we left Earth.  He's referring to himself and
to this particular spacecraft.  That's the transmission of an Earth
explorer, not an Earth colonist."
   Sheba looked thoughtfully at the image and nodded, "I see what you
mean," she paused and then said, "Could you play the rest of that?"
   "Sure," Boomer hit the switch and the distant voice from the past
resumed his garbled, static-filled monologue.
   "I leave----20th----regrets-------------I------Does
man----neighbor---------Does-------"
   Suddenly, the image of the human male seemed to clear up for just a
brief instant.  His face seemed to have a sad, longing quality to it.
   "I feel lonely," his final words came through equally clear.
   And then, the transmission abruptly ceased.
   There was no further comment from any of the three people gathered
on the bridge's upper level.  It was as if the forlorn quality of the
man's words had struck a chord deep inside with them.  Something that
they conceivably relate to themselves.
   Apollo rose and went over to the railing, where he looked down at
Omega, "Any word from our patrol?"
   "None sir," the veteran bridge officer shook his head.
   The commander let out a grim exhale and began to absently drum his
fingers on the railing.
   "Apollo?" he heard Sheba's voice as she came over and put a hand on
his shoulder.  "Apollo, how long do we wait before we send out another
team to look for them?"
   Her husband didn't turn around, "I don't know yet," he said, "When
there's so much we don't know about Earth at this point, there's no
telling what it is they're going through.  I might have to....." he
trailed off.
   "Have to what?" she asked.
   Apollo didn't answer at first.  He seemed to be a maze of
conflicting emotions as he leaned over the rail and called down to the
Senior Bridge Officer again, "Omega, are we still tracking the Earth
spacecraft they encountered?"
   "Affirmative."
   "Keep monitoring them.  Don't lose your fix on them."
   Sheba lifted an eyebrow, "You're thinking of contacting them?"
   "I might have to," Apollo admitted, "At this point, they're the only
definite thing about Earth we could directly contact.  If we don't hear
from our patrol soon, we might need their help if we're going to send
out another team." he then let out a sigh, "For the first time, I'm
beginning to understand what I kept putting my father through on all
those missions I was overdue from."
   Sheba tried not to bite her lip.  She had been a churning mass of
tension inside for several centars now, and the last thing she wanted
to do was allow any of it to show.
   "You know how Starbuck is," she tried to sound bright, "And as far
as our children go, we shouldn't have a thing to worry about.  After
all," she smiled, "They had the best possible teachers in you and me."
   Her husband nodded as they both collected themselves and went back
to their respective consoles on the upper level.  For now, their duties
as commander and executive officer took precedence over their feelings
as concerned parents.


   Far behind the rear echelon of the Galactica's Fleet of 204 ships, a
routine patrol of four vipers from Green Squadron was searching the
quadrant the Fleet had traversed within the last sectan.  Long ago,
Apollo had realized that the deeper the Galactica penetrated into
unknown, uncharted regions of space the less likely it became that they
would find traces of their determined enemy, the Cylon Empire lying
ahead of them.  If any danger was to come from the Cylons, it would be
because they were following their wake, and would strike from behind. 
As a result, rear guard patrols had now become just as important as
advance patrols were.  In many ways, even more so.
   "Green Leader, this is Green Three.  Completing quadrant
alpha-six-two sector scan.  Situation, all clear."
   "Copy Green Three," Captain Jolly said with customary nonchalantness
as he flicked several switches on his computer terminal that blocked
out the area Green Three had just searched on his star chart.  Only two
more quadrants remained before the patrol would be considered finished.
   And when we get back, Jolly thought to himself, a nice long,
soothing session in the Rising Star's Aquacade.  He'd been saving up
his pa