Battlestar Galactica: Matter Of Honor Virtual Second Season, Episode 1 By Eric Paddon Epaddon@aol.com Battlestar Galactica: Matter Of Honor From The Adama Journals There is a curious calm after the storm that now fills the Fleet in the wake of the successful destruction of the lone baseship we engaged. More a sense of catharsis and relief that at long last we made a statement against the Cylons by ourselves, and can perhaps be filled with the hope that this encounter with them, nearly a half-yahren after we'd last crossed paths with them, is truly the end of the last chapter the Cylons will play in the long journey that still lies ahead of us toward that distant dream of Earth. That may in the end prove to be only wishful thinking. If we are fortunate that the baseship broadcast no long-range signal back to their Empire, then inevitably they will investigate the disappearance of the baseship when it fails to report. It is therefore essential that we leave this quadrant as soon as possible. But before that can happen, there is one matter that must be dealt with. By far the most difficult task I have ever had to perform as the leader of this Fleet in a non-military matter. The promise I made to Baltar that after the baseship was destroyed, I would free him. The debriefing from Apollo and Starbuck reveals that his information was accurate and genuine to the last detail with no hidden surprises that might have endangered their mission. He kept his word in full. Now the question is, can I keep my word to him? Every base instinct in me says I should give Baltar the same consideration he gave the human race a yahren ago with his phony peace offer from the Cylons. It would save me a lot of headaches I am sure to receive from the members of the Council who still harbor bitterness over being his prisoner during his failed escape attempt of a sectar ago. It would give me the satisfaction of not feeling that I had somehow shamed the memory of Ila, of Zac and all the others who lost their lives thanks to Baltar's treachery were I to release him. And yet, I know that in the end that no matter how tempting it is to me, I can not go back on my word of honor when the other party has fulfilled his end of the bargain. Baltar's information, whether I like to admit or not, saved this Fleet from potential destruction at the hands of the baseship. I made the decision I had to make to get that information in order to save the lives of our people, and the oath I took as a warrior to uphold the standards of honor and principle that the Colonial nation stood for would mean nothing if I were to go back on my promise to Baltar. And so, with no joy whatsoever, I find myself irrevocably committed to a course of action that I know will lead to fraction and disunity amongst our people. But as the Lord is my judge, I see no other way. I hope that at the very least, my apprehension will not override the pride and joy I feel over the success of Apollo and Starbuck in their mission, as I present them with their Gold Cluster medallions at a special ceremony later this evening. Whatever tomorrow might bring for us, tonight must be a night of celebration and thanksgiving. Chapter One The Galactica's Great Hall was filled with more than 500 people waiting for the ceremony to begin. Finally, when the haunting sound of the Colonial National Anthem began playing through the overhead speakers, the crowd came to attention and watched as Adama got up from his chair next to Colonel Tigh and stepped forward to the podium. "We are assembled here today," the commander's voice was at its most resonant. "To celebrate our successful victory that saw a Cylon basestar destroyed, and to pay special tribute to two warriors whose courage and ingenuity provided the key to our winning the battle. Together, they used a captured Cylon fighter to infiltrate the baseship and sabotage their scanners, thus ensuring that our attacking force had the advantage of surprise. "And so, at this time I ask that Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck both step forward." The crowd remained properly silent as Apollo and Starbuck both rose from their seats in the front row, and to the rising strains of the National Anthem made their way up to the stage, where they both stood at rigid attention in front of Adama. At that point, Colonel Tigh got up from his chair and took his position alongside the Commander. "Captain Apollo, Lieutenant Starbuck," the executive officer spoke, "For outstanding bravery and self-sacrifice in the line of duty, we present to you both, the Gold Cluster medal." Tigh took the small boxes that contained the decorations and then pinned the medals on both of them. When he was finished, he stepped back alongside Adama. The two warriors saluted their superiors, and Adama and Tigh then returned it. And then, a loud burst of applause erupted from the multitude gathered. The loudest cheers came from the front row, where Boomer, Sheba and Cassiopeia were seated. Apollo and Starbuck then turned to face the crowd and both waved in acknowledgment. Above the roar, the lieutenant gave his friend a playful nudge and whispered to him. "Ah, our adoring public. What shall we do for an encore?" "Anything short of another trip aboard a baseship." Apollo whispered back. "I won't argue with that." The two warriors took their seats again as Adama stepped back to the podium. The crowd promptly became silent again. "Even amidst the feelings of joy and celebration over our successful victory," he spoke. "There remains the sadness we must also feel over the losses sustained in the battle. Of nine viper pilots. Their sacrifice as always, a constant reminder to us of what we must endure as we continue our journey across the heavens in search of our final destination." His father's reference to Earth made Apollo ponder not for the first time, the enigma of the transmission he'd picked up in the Celestial Dome. Wondering again if there was some connection somehow to Earth, and not a Cylon lure as his father had dismissed it. For many centars prior to his arrival in the Great Hall, he had sat in the Dome pondering its meaning, and waiting with forlorn hope for a new transmission to arrive, until Starbuck's arrival finally forced him to reluctantly leave the chamber. "And now, at this time. I ask us to reflect in a centon of silent prayer to the Lords, in honor of our dead." When the moment had passed, Adama finally raised his head. "You are all dismissed." The lowered heads in the chamber raised, and finally, the crowd of 500 began to disperse. Most were either filing out or staying behind to have a few words with the guests of honor. Starbuck stopped to chat with over six warriors before finally moving back to the front row where Boomer waited. "Somehow, the sight of a Gold Cluster on you just doesn't seem to fit." the dark skinned warrior said dryly. "Ah, you're just jealous because that's two for me and only one for you." Starbuck waved his hand. Boomer suddenly broke into a grin. "How'd you guess?" "Tell you what, if I ever find myself in the hole of a heavy Pyramid game, I'll put both of mine up as collateral and that way you'll get a chance to have them." "The way you play?" Boomer snorted. "I could have sworn that was how you won yours in the first place." "Okay Boomer. Next time we come across a baseship, you can get your chance to see what one really looks like from the inside. Two times is enough for me." "I'd just as soon not see one from the outside anymore." Starbuck nodded. "Won't get an argument from me on that one," his eyes then darted about the Hall. "Say, where'd my fellow hero disappear to?" "I don't know," Boomer said. "I was hoping to get a chance to needle him too, but he seemed to cut out on us early." The blonde warrior let out a sigh of resignation. "I think I know where he was anxious to get back to." For eight centars, the Celestial Dome of the Galactica had been an empty place since Apollo and Starbuck had left it to begin their preparations for the ceremony they had just taken part in. It had not however, been a silent place. During that time, the active long range transmission receiver, accidentally set off by Starbuck's laser pistol bumping against it, had been broadcasting many words accompanying the ghostly image of two figures in bulky white outfits hopping about a crater filled landscape in front of a spidery shaped craft. "Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed." "Okay Neil, we can see you coming down the ladder." "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." "Magnificent desolation." "Here, men from the planet Earth first set foot on the moon, July 20, 1969 AD." "You can see the Stars and Stripes on the lunar surface." "Hello, Neil and Buzz. I'm talking to you by telephone from the Oval Room at the White House. And this has to be the most historic telephone call ever made." "Thank you, Mr. President." "Unofficial time off the surface..." And then, the long steady stream of transmissions abruptly ceased. Heard by millions of people on the planet they'd originated from, but by no one from among the 70,000 people that comprised the 220 ships of the Colonial Fleet, searching for the planet that the signals came from. When the hatch opened and Apollo made his way in, there was only silence in the room, punctuated by the loud roar of the Galactica's main thrusters from below before Apollo closed the hatch again. He made his way up to the chair that held the monitor for the long range transmission receiver and frowned when he saw that it was in an on position. He could have sworn that he'd shut it off before leaving. He absently flicked the on/off switch several times just to make sure it was still working properly. Then, he sat in the chair and wondered if any messages had passed through the chamber during the time he was away. And if so, was it possible that something important had been missed. Maybe I should see about having a permanent monitor installed in here, or some kind of permanent watch check, he thought. At the very least, it was an idea he'd have to float past his father at some point but he wondered if Adama would go along in light of the fact that he was convinced that the transmission they'd picked up had been a deception from the baseship. He turned on the receiving switch again and saw only a silent, blank screen indicating there was no signal out there to receive. It was enough to make him sigh with an almost sad aura about questions he wasn't sure would ever be answered to his satisfaction. Give it up, Apollo, he thought to himself. You can't spend the rest of your life sitting here and waiting for a forlorn hope. You've got other priorities in life to attend to for the first time. Didn't you vow to turn over a new leaf after you got back from the baseship? He had indeed, he admitted. There was a lot he had planned to do differently in his life now. Starting with someone that he had an appointment to keep with very soon. Apollo opened the hatch and took one final look inside the Celestial Dome before descending the ladder. He wasn't all too sure when the next time would be before he came back to this place, but one thing he knew was that it wouldn't be for a very long while. Aboard the luxury ship Rising Star, three members of the Colonial Council of Twelve were gathered in the elegant Main Dining Hall for a quintessential dinner where politics, not food, was the purpose of their meeting. "You're absolutely certain that Adama plans to release him?" Sire Montrose's eyes had bulged to the size of triad balls from the beginning of the conversation and had remained that way ever since. "He does," Sire Antipas said with his typical, resigned air. "Domra and I confronted him on the bridge before the battle, and Baltar was actually standing there as a guest of honor throughout the proceedings. Needless to say it was quite a sickening sight." "We need to do something to prevent this," Domra's expression was twisted into an almost perpetual scowl of anger. "The Council as a whole must stop Adama from shaming the memories of all the victims of the Holocaust, and shaming the honor of the Council." "My dear Domra, I sympathize with your perspective, but what can we do realistically?" Montrose leaned back in his chair, still feeling a sense of disbelief. Six sectars ago, he had been the Council member given the privilege of formally sentencing Baltar after he had been captured, and it had been the most satisfying task he had ever performed in his life. Now, he felt as though it had all been for nothing in the end. "Adama, as Fleet Commander, has the authority to do what he pleases, especially with regard to prisoners. We have twice before conferred that authority on him, as recently as one sectar ago." "Which was prompted by Baltar's prison escape!" Domra angrily interjected. "We gave him that authority because circumstances left us in a position where we seemed weak. Now it is Adama who is demonstrating weakness." "I'm not keen on the idea of revoking the Martial Law edict," Montrose shook his head. "It's too soon since the battle, and that was enough to remind all of us that we still live in dangerous times where another Cylon attack could just as easily happen again in the near term." "No one is suggesting that Adama's powers as military commander be weakened, that's not the issue," Antipas tried to sound reassuring, "We're talking about matters that a military commander, even one under Martial Law, should not have jurisdiction over. And the dispensation of prisoners duly convicted by civil authority of Colonial jurisprudence is one such matter." Montrose eyed Antipas with an almost suspicious air. The elderly Montrose had never felt too comfortable around the relatively young Antipas, even though Antipas's father and namesake had once been a member of the Council for many yahrens before losing his life in the Destruction. "You plan on introducing some kind of resolution at a Council meeting?" he inquired cautiously. "Something completely limited in scope?" "Limited to the degree that you are insisting on," Antipas nodded rather vigorously. "This will not touch on other matters that have divided us in the past, such as Adama's military authority and the matter of our journey for Earth. It is a matter of isolating those narrow concerns where authority should be properly ceded back to civilian control." Montrose turned his gaze to Domra, who remained scowling the whole while. "You see things that way too, Domra?" "I do," the older Council member had his arms folded as he nodded. At that moment, the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the waiter with their dinner. As soon as the sumptuous fare had been placed before them, Montrose took a sip from his chalice and leaned back in his chair. "Tell me what the proposal will be." Apollo was surprised to find that he was trembling inside as he stood outside the compartment to the bunkroom where the fifteen female warrior pilots lived. He had been by this place many times before, and thought that would be enough to keep him from feeling nervous. But then again, this would be the first time that he would be making a visit that was in anything other than an official capacity. When he sounded the chime, he took a breath and hoped that no one else would answer it. When it opened, he saw Sheba standing there, wearing a golden color gown that left her right shoulder bare. She had left her hair down, which suited Apollo just fine since he'd never understood the fashion rule that said women needed to pile up their hair whenever they dressed elegantly. Immediately, she smiled at him. "Hi," she said. "Hi," he managed to smile back, grateful that he wasn't letting his nervousness show. "Am I early?" "Only by about two centons according to my chronometer, which is close enough for me," she said as she stepped out into the corridor. "Got your gold pass?" Apollo pulled the item out of his dress uniform pocket and held it up. "All safe and secure, and entitling me to full access aboard the Rising Star for the next forty-eight centars, along with one guest." "I thought they only gave out twenty-four centar passes for special circumstances," she lifted an eyebrow in surprise. "What Starbuck and I did qualifies as an extra special circumstance." "And well it should," Sheba smiled as she stepped out into the corridor and they began their walk toward the turbo-lift. She then chose her next words delicately. "I'd have thought you'd have a lot of those kinds of passes stocked up by now." He looked at her and smiled wryly as he realized her indirect reference to their conversation in the Cylon fighter cockpit. "Let's just say they were never quite as appreciative of all that risk taking until now." She felt a wave of relief that he hadn't taken her remark the wrong way. "I'm glad they had a change of heart about that now." "So am I," Apollo said and he then snuck another admiring look at how breathtakingly beautiful she was in her gown. He felt the awkwardness returning inside him, wondering how he could best express that. Finally, he decided that the best way to express it was to just be direct. "You look beautiful." Sheba almost felt her heart skip a beat when she heard his compliment. "Thank you," she smiled at him. "I had this chosen specially for the occasion." "You made a wonderful choice," Apollo said, letting himself leer at her for another long micron. "I'll probably send the designer a big tip." They stepped into the lift which would take them down to the shuttle launch bay. Inside the enclosure, standing next to each other, Sheba could feel an electricity in the air between them. Already, she had a feeling in her heart of what the ultimate outcome of this dinner on the Rising Star would be. And she found herself praying and hoping that her instinct was correct. Apollo was feeling the same air of electricity between them as they rode down. Things were moving very fast for him, and he wondered if his psyche would be able to handle it. It had taken so much within him to finally admit to himself what he'd been trying to deny for so many sectars about his feelings for Sheba. The only thing he was worried about now was whether he'd be able to handle admitting them openly to her, and if he'd still feel too haunted by Serina's memory to keep from taking that final, critical step. He snuck another glance at Sheba and became aware of the sweet fragrance of her perfume. Combined with her beauty, the effect was intoxicating to him and he was on the verge of reaching out and taking her in his arms at that instant. But then, the turbo lift came to a stop and the doors opened, jolting him back to reality. "We're in luck," Sheba pointed. "The Canaris hasn't started boarding yet. We should be able to get a good seat." "Let's hope so," Apollo said as they walked across the tarmac to the shuttle, all the while hoping that nothing went wrong on this occasion. As soon as Baltar heard the chime to his guest quarters sound, he bolted to his feet and raced to the door, hoping that finally, some momentum was taking place on the matter of his release. To his disappointment though, he saw that it wasn't Adama or someone else in authority, but Sergeant Castor of Colonial Security with his dinner. Baltar always dreaded the sight of Castor, because his formidable presence never ceased to have an intimidating effect on the traitor, always reminding him that guest quarters or not, he was still a prisoner. "Here you are, Baltar," the Security Guard's tone was neutral as he set the tray down on the table. "Specially prepared to what you requested. Piscean squab in sweet sauce. Not many get a chance to savor this." "Thank you," Baltar had to hold his tongue to keep from making a sarcastic remark, as he sat down and looked over the exquisitely prepared meal. "At the risk of being indelicate, Sergeant, when will I be hearing news from Adama?" "The Commander doesn't fill me in on things like that," Castor was fighting to keep his own expression neutral. "I'm not the one to ask about things like that." "Everything by the book, eh, Sergeant?" Baltar smiled crookedly as he sampled a bite of the squab. It had been more than a yahren since he'd eaten this delicacy and while it wasn't up to the standards of Piscera's fine restaurants, he found it delicious. "If you could at least find way of letting someone in higher authority know that I'm interested in meeting with Adama soon, I would appreciate that." "I can't give any guarantees on that, Baltar." Castor made his way to the door. "Enjoy your meal." As good as the meal tasted, Baltar still found it difficult to get through it. He was still no closer to an answer on his fate than he was several days ago, and the longer the delays went on, the more it served to unnerve him. To make him wonder if Adama planned on showing the same regard for their agreement as he had shown to the rest of humanity in the false peace offer of nearly a yahren ago. Could I really blame him if he did? Baltar sighed as he took a sip from his chalice of ambrosia. What would I do if I were in his position? I'd just renege on the deal because I know there's no way a man in my position of prisoner could do anything about it. And yet, he thought as he took another bite, he'd known Adama enough over the yahrens to realize that the Galactica commander was a man of integrity and principle. Someone who prided himself on those virtues that Baltar had long ago found to be impediments to achieving success in life. They were qualities that Adama had made an integral part of his life, and the traitor had a strong feeling that if Adama were to renege, it would ultimately trouble his conscience too much. In that case, Baltar smiled as he took another sip of ambrosia, I should learn to keep being patient these next few cycles. He has to do it ultimately. Aboard the Rising Star, Sire Montrose finally felt his hand picking up a piece of his meal after ignoring it for more than thirty centons. He had been so caught up in the discussion with Domra and Antipas over their pending proposal, that it had caused him to forget his appetite completely. "I must say it is impressive," Montrose said. "And...ultimately it strikes me as eminently fair with regard to avoiding all matters of Adama's military authority." "Yes, I assure you the scope of this proposal will be as limited as it can possibly be." Antipas said reassuringly. "When shall we act on this, then?" "We must act swiftly," Domra said, his expression still filled with the anger he'd felt for days now. "In fact, I believe that circumstances compel us to act tonight. We cannot run the risk that Baltar's timetable for release is to be as early as the next cycle." Montrose swallowed a bite of his now cold meal. "Yes, perhaps so. Still, it will be difficult to round the other members up on such short notice. And for such a delicate matter, I think it imperative that all members be present and not just a quorum, or else we open ourselves up to charges of being inconsistent." "True, true," Antipas nodded. "I suggest that the both of you get to work immediately on that. There is something else I must attend to, that should also help advance our cause." He cocked his head slightly in the direction of one of the other tables in the Dining Hall. Both Domra and Montrose immediately recognized IFB co-anchor Zara sitting there. Neither of Antipas' fellow Councilors said anything as they nodded and rose from their seats. At the very instant that Sires Domra and Montrose were leaving the Rising Star's Dining Hall, the shuttle Canaris had attached itself to the luxury liner's docking ring. Allowing the fifty passengers aboard to disembark, proceed through the security pass checkpoint, and begin their stays aboard the ship. Those who were not part of the Rising Star's support staff, or who were permanent residents based on their wealth, could only visit the ship through the use of designated passes that provided them with access based on its purchase price. For Apollo and Sheba, the gold passes they carried offered the highest level of access to the luxury ship. Unlimited to all dining, entertainment and recreational facilities. For now though, there was only one thing that Apollo wanted to get out of his pass, and the key to it lay in the mustachioed Chief Steward standing in front of the door that led to the Main Dining Hall. "Good evening, Zeibert," Apollo said cheerily. "It's been awhile." "Ah, Captain Apollo. Yes." The Rising Star's Chief Steward stepped from behind his podium, where he kept all his records on admissions to both the Dining Hall and the nearby Astral Lounge. "Good to see you again. I don't believe I've had the pleasure since that unfortunate business with the Borellian Nomen several sectars ago." "Well this time, I'm hoping for a more tranquil experience." Apollo smiled as he pulled out his gold pass. "Lieutenant Sheba and I request private accommodations for dinner." Zeibert eyed the pass. "It shall be done, Captain. Follow me please." The two of them followed the Chief Steward down a short corridor and entered the next compartment where a long row of doors that lead to private rooms lined each side of the companionway. "Here we are," Zeibert said as he stopped in front of the third door from the end of the corridor. "Number 8B. Perhaps among the finest of our accommodations. Equipped and furnished with----" "Ah, I think we'll be impressed enough without your eloquent description, Zeibert," Apollo said as he dropped a ten cubit coin in the Chief Steward's hand. "Just see to it that we have two bottles of ambrosia and the Chef's Specialty delivered to us in good order. Medium heat on mine, and light heat for Lieutenant Sheba." He glanced at her. "That right?" "That's right," she smiled and nodded. "Of course sir. And I do hope that you both enjoy your stay aboard the Rising Star." As soon as Apollo and Sheba entered the room and the door had closed behind them, they both found themselves impressed immediately. "Incredible," Apollo shook his head in amazement. "Window view, Sixth millennia Aquarian decor. There can't be any rooms better than this." "No indeed," Sheba said as she made her way to the back of the room and inspected a small door. "It even has its own turbowash room. I think that's the ultimate symbol of luxury if you ask me." Apollo let out a laugh. "You're probably right." "When you stop to think of it, who could ever have a nice quiet secluded evening aboard the Rising Star without one of those?" she smirked and then settled herself on the plush sofa beneath the porthole that ran almost a third of the room's length. Apollo could feel a remark on the tip of his tongue but held back, wondering if it crossed the lines of taste too much. He wouldn't have hesitated to say it in Starbuck's presence, but with Sheba he just wasn't sure. For a long time, he had found himself awed by how Sheba could so easily combine the traits of a tough, hard-edged warrior with soft femininity. That unique combination had been the reason he'd been attracted to her for so long. But if he were really serious about the idea of having a relationship with her, he knew that he had to understand all of her nuances and know exactly how to react and interact with her without any hesitation whatsoever. One step at a time, he thought as he settled himself down on the couch, allowing just enough space between them so it wouldn't seem like he was being aggressive or distant. "Darned if I know," he finally answered her question in a light-hearted but non-committal way. "Still, it's nice to have a few luxuries like these to enjoy on special occasions." "I agree," she settled back in the couch, enjoying its plush comfort. "Smart thinking by the Commander to keep luxuries like this going." He looked at her and lifted an eyebrow. "What makes you think he had anything to do with it?" "Seemed obvious to me," Sheba shrugged. "Once you had this Fleet rounded up after the Holocaust it had to be his call whether to keep the Colonial economic structure, or put everyone under a planned, collective framework." Apollo pondered that for a micron. "You know, he never mentioned that to me, but I suppose it did come down to his say-so. I just always took it for granted that the people needed to keep working to earn cubits for luxuries, and even have the opportunity to become rich, or else morale would disappear faster than a viper escaping a supernova. Planned and collective economies never made sense to me. Not even in a framework like we have in the Fleet." "Even if it means that there has to be some people poor and some people rich and not a level, equal field for all?" Sheba asked her question in a way that made it clear she was engaging in an intellectual discussion, and not making any criticism at all. "Maybe from a theoretical sense the collective argument has a greater ethical dimension," Apollo said. "But it just doesn't work on a grand scale. People have to have honest wealth to aim for, and if they can achieve it, they have a sense of purpose accomplished in their lives. Now if they accumulate it dishonestly and don't do anything good with their wealth, that's different. Only when someone like a Sire Uri does something like that, then you need to take action." She frowned. "Who's Sire Uri?" Apollo chuckled. "That's right, I'd forgotten. You weren't here when he was the biggest pain in the astrum for all of us. Thankfully he's spent all his time since then just wasting away in his quarters here on the Rising Star." "You'll need to fill me in on that." The chime sounded, and Apollo rose from the sofa. He opened the door and saw a handsomely dressed waiter carrying a large serving tray. "Your dinner, sir," his tone was deferential and refined, as befitting all those who'd been on the Rising Star's support staff for yahrens. "Prepared exactly to your specifications." "Thank you," Apollo smiled. "Please set it down on the table in front of the sofa." As the waiter moved in, Apollo noticed another attendant holding a tray with a bottle of ambrosia and two chalices. "We took the trouble to procure for the occasion, a special Virgon vintage, 7120." the attendant said proudly as he moved in. "I'm impressed," Apollo said, amazed at the thought of sampling choice ambrosia more than a hundred yahrens old. He knew that it would probably be the only time he ever got to sample it again in his lifetime. As soon as the attendants were finished, Apollo gave them each a twenty cubit coin, and when he closed the door smiled wryly at Sheba. "Looks as though the evening is just beginning for us." "Indeed," she returned it. "Let's not let this go to waste." Since returning to his quarters following the victory celebration, Adama had found his mood largely subdued. In part because he knew that whatever satisfaction to be taken from the Cylon baseship's destruction, could only be fleeting at best. At the most, it could only guarantee that the Galactica and her fleet would not be harassed by her ancient enemy again. It could guarantee little as far as the hope that the Fleet's ultimate destination, the distant dream of a planet called Earth, would be arrived at sooner rather than later. Perhaps we're capable of outrunning the Cylons, he thought as he sat in his chair with his hand on his chin in contemplation. But are we capable of staying unified as a people for the long haul? If this journey is to last many yahrens to the point of a new generation, will we ourselves be our worst enemy in due time? Already, he could sense the rumblings of discontent stirring themselves over his pledge to Baltar. He had already seen Antipas and Domra barge in to the bridge just prior to the battle demanding an explanation, and then vowing to take the matter up at the next Council meeting. And he knew that such a meeting was inevitable within the next several cycles, if not sooner. The chime to his door sounded. "Enter," he said without moving from his contemplative position. The door opened and the executive officer entered, a look of slight agitation on his face. "Commander," his voice matched his expression. "I just received a report from Sergeant Castor. It seems that Baltar is asking again about when his release is going to take place." A mirthless half-smile formed on the corners of Adama's mouth. "Your timing is quite impeccable, Colonel. The subject's been on my mind all evening." Tigh came up in front of his desk. "Adama...you're...really not going to do it, are you?" The commander avoided looking at him. "I have no choice, Tigh." "Do you, Adama?" the executive officer's voice fell to a pointed whisper. "What's to stop you from just saying that you have no more right to keep your word to Baltar then he did at the Peace Conference?" "Only one thing," Adama brought his fingertips together. "And it's the very thing that gives us the right to say that we represent the morally right side in the war we've fought for a thousand yahrens." Tigh slowly straightened himself and then let out a long exhale as though he were letting all the fight out of him. "Adama," he said. "I don't agree with you, but...I understand what you mean. I...won't make things difficult for you on it. Whatever happens, I'll give you nothing less than my full support." "Thank you, Tigh," he finally looked up at him and smiled, "I...understand where you come from too. I only hope the members of the Council end up seeing things the same way in time and just let us move on. In fact, I almost think that being rid of Baltar for good will do more to help us put the past behind us and give us all the feeling of starting afresh." The desk videocom sounded, and Adama reached over to activate it. Bridge Officer Omega's face appeared on the screen, looking somewhat grim. "Yes, Omega?" "Commander, I'm sorry to bother you, but I think something's happening on the IFB right now that merits your attention." The commander frowned. "What is it?" "Zara's having some kind of interview with Sire Antipas." Adama's face darkened. "Thank you for notifying me, Omega. I'll attend to it immediately." He shut off the link to the bridge and then adjusted the setting so that the IFB frequency now came in clearly. He could see Zara sitting on a couch inside the Rising Star's Empyreal Lounge interviewing Sire Antipas, just several feet across from her on the couch. "...It's therefore your understanding, Sire Antipas, that this pending release of Baltar was done with no consultation whatsoever with any members of the Council?" "None," the young Sire shook his head. "Not that Commander Adama should be faulted on that, since I'm certain his considerations were made from a strictly military perspective, and given the crisis that existed with the sudden appearance of the baseship, I'm sure he did what he thought was best. However, I think it can be said that with the danger past, then surely Commander Adama would realize that were he to kindly sweep this 'agreement' under the rug, there would be no ramifications whatsoever." Adama abruptly shut the videocom off and stared at it with visible anger, his facial muscles throbbing intently. "Adama," Tigh spoke up. "I meant what I said. No matter how much I sympathize with that point of view, you have my full support." "Thank you," the commander didn't look up at him, still staring at the now blank screen. "Seeing Sire Antipas emerge as the front man for this, I didn't expect. But it's probably the worst thing that could have happened. He doesn't have a... credibility problem the way Domra and the others do." "Is there anything we should do?" "I should be getting word of an immediate Council meeting soon," Adama glanced at his wrist chronometer. "I will not let this matter become bogged down. Tigh, I want you to notify Security and have them start loading up a shuttle with the necessary survival gear I promised to give Baltar. Once they're done, that shuttle is to stand by and await further orders." "You're going to release him tonight?" The executive officer lifted an eyebrow. "It may come to that. But don't inform him of it just yet." Adama leaned back in his chair. "Also, I want Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck back aboard the Galactica as soon as possible. I'll probably be needing them for support during the meeting." "Yes sir," Tigh nodded and departed. Once he was alone, Adama put his hands behind his head and muttered only one word that reflected the anger he felt over being placed in this distasteful position. "Damn." Chapter Two Almost a full centar was needed for Apollo and Sheba to get through every part of their dinner, as the two of them found themselves conversing on a wide range of subjects throughout the meal. For Apollo, the ease in which he was able to bounce things off her and get a substantive discussion going was more than he had expected and helping him feel more relaxed and comfortable. The only things they had not discussed though were matters of a deeply personal nature. And in the back of both their minds, they knew that if they really wanted this to be the beginning of something deeper, they could not avoid doing that forever. "...I think it's interesting how in your one mission, you and Starbuck learned more about a baseship's interior layout than Colonial Intelligence picked up in about five hundred yahrens." Sheba was saying as she took a sip from her near-empty chalice. "Can you imagine what kind of information we could have learned back then when we really could have used it?" "It crossed my mind a little," he conceded. "Unfortunately, we can never know how much it would have helped. I guess the thought of doing some kind of infiltration mission back then scared everyone too much about the risks." For the first time, Sheba sensed an opportunity to move the conversation to a different level. And she felt all the tension return to her as she wondered how Apollo would react. "Were you scared?" Apollo felt only the slightest bit of trepidation as he looked across the table into her deep brown eyes and said. "Yes, I was. It was like...wandering through a labyrinth and not knowing if you'd run into death at the next wrong turn. All that was missing for it to be more terrifying was it wasn't dark inside there." Sheba then chose her next words carefully. "So there was.. no sense of fatalism or anything like that?" "None," he shook his head. "I...don't think I'll ever take a fatalistic approach to missions again. Not that I'm not willing to do dangerous jobs that have to be done. All of us warriors have to be ready and willing to do those kind of things, but as far as being a fatalist...no. I'm...done doing things like that. It's not a healthy attitude to have. Especially when I've got responsibilities to think of, like...well like Boxey for instance." "I've never had a chance to meet him," Sheba said. "He must be a joy to you." Apollo seemed surprised to hear her say that she'd never met Boxey before and then realized that she was right. "Yeah, he is. And I...well, I don't get to do as much as I should with him. I...need to be more mindful of that." "Has he adjusted to not having a mother in his life?" Sheba decided that she couldn't let herself hold back on any matters that arose from topics already raised. Apollo gazed thoughtfully at his chalice, tilting it back and forth. "I think it's more a case of accepting reality for him. The first couple sectans after Serina died were the worst. He'd have nightmares and wake up shouting for his mother and then he'd have to deal with the reality of her not being there all over again. But...he's moved beyond that. He's been through so much this last yahren, including nearly getting killed on three occasions to let that keep traumatizing him." "Is his biological father still alive?" Sheba deliberately used the qualifier to show that she was well aware of how Apollo was Boxey's father in more than just a legal sense. "I honestly don't know the answer to that," Apollo shook his head. "Serina never told me his name. Just that he was someone she knew at University who got her pregnant and then disappeared when he refused to take responsibility after Serina decided she wasn't going to have a termination." "I see," Sheba nodded. "In that case, it's a non-issue whether he's still alive or not." "Yeah." "Has...anyone tried to act like a mother-figure for Boxey?" "Well, Athena and Cassiopeia sort of take turns looking after him, depending on which of them has more free time. Lately it's been Athena more. But I think Boxey views them more like favorite aunts, not as mother-figures." As soon as Apollo had finished his sentence, he suddenly realized the ramifications of her question and his answer. He set his chalice down and then looked her in the eye. "Would you like to meet him?" "I would," she said. "And maybe...I can give both Athena and Cassiopeia some time off the next time he needs looking after." "I think that'd be a good idea," he nodded and then added. "His biggest weaknesses are mushies and playing the triad simulator in the Rejuvenation Center." "Looking to follow in your footsteps on the triad court when he's old enough, no doubt." Sheba smiled. "Yeah," he chuckled. "And also, he's got a pet daggit he's devoted to as well." "A live daggit?" her eyes widened. "No, a robot one. Wilker built him as a prototype and gave it to Boxey as a gift because his live daggit from Caprica got lost in the attack and there were no other live ones in the entire Fleet." "Ah. Well a robot one would be easier to handle anyway. All the fun of having a pet with none of the nuisances." Her comment intrigued him. "Did you ever have one when you were a kid?" "No," Sheba shook her head. "My mother had a certain fetish against them. She hated having any live animals in the house. Too much responsibility looking after them and they caused too much of a nuisance." "Like having to feed them, right?" A crooked smile formed on Sheba's lips. "Actually that wasn't the nuisance she had in mind. It had to do with um," she then motioned her head in the direction of the turbowash. Light suddenly dawned on Apollo and he burst out into laughter that Sheba joined in as well. "You're right," Apollo wiped his eyes. "Robot daggits do take care of that problem!" "The wonders of modern technology," Sheba chuckled. "At any rate, I'm sure I'll enjoy his daggit's company as much as he does." "That's good," Apollo drained the last of his ambrosia and set the glass down, pausing once again to admire how beautiful she looked. His admiring glance didn't go unnoticed by her and she found herself trying hard not to blush. "Well, I guess that takes care of dinner," she said. "Do you feel up to dessert just yet?" "Not yet," Apollo said. "I...don't think I want to call Zeibert or anyone else right now." Her heart skipped a beat. "What would you like to do right now?" "More of what we've been doing," Apollo said, feeling that electricity in the air return once again. "But we don't have to keep doing it in this um...seating arrangement." She smiled again and moved herself down to one side of the sofa, creating more room. Apollo got up from his chair and pulled the table away from the sofa, creating more leg room. Then, feeling his stomach knot up with more anxiety than he could remember, he sat down next to her. This time, closer then he'd been when they'd had their conversation before dinner had arrived. He decided it was time for him to ask her some questions to show that he was as interested in learning more about her as she had been about him. "Sheba, I hope you don't mind my asking this, but...have you ever...that is, been interested in anyone before?" She felt glad that he was asking him. "No. Not that there weren't others interested in me. It's just that...I wasn't really interested. And even if I had been, I don't think any of them would have wanted to get serious because they would have run the risk of incurring my father's wrath if things went awry." "What about Bojay?" Apollo had to ask, since Bojay was the only one of Sheba's close acquaintances from the Pegasus who was now part of her life aboard the Galactica. "Bojay wasn't one of those who had a crush on me," she shook her head. "He and I have always had a brother-sister type relationship. It may have been that he just saw me as untouchable from the beginning and decided it was best to not have any false hopes like some of the others did." "I see," Apollo nodded. "So you...just decided a long time ago that you needed to wait until the time was right?" "Yes," she said simply. He looked at her again, trying hard to overcome the tension that filled his body. Finally, he managed to extend his arm and wrap it around her, pulling her close to him. Immediately, Sheba relaxed and instinctively rested her head on his shoulder, trying hard to contain herself from having an emotional reaction now that Apollo had taken this step on his own. "Sheba," Apollo said as he kept his arm wrapped about her waist. "You...did a gutsy thing the other day when you came up to me in the Raider and said what you did, but...I'm glad you did it. I had it coming to me for a long while, and...it's made me realize that I need to have a new outlook on life from now on." She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. "Do you have some specific ideas in mind?" "Yes I do," he could feel a rising tide of confidence going through him as he lowered his head toward hers. And then, they came together in a kiss that within microns had become both a kiss and embrace. For Sheba, there was only a sense of joy that this moment had finally happened, while for Apollo there was a sense of peace that no troubling thoughts of guilt over Serina were intruding on his consciousness. More than two centons went by with neither of them releasing each other. Apollo wondered if they were both afraid of going further than they should on this first night, and that it was better to let this moment last as long as it could before they dealt with that question. "Attention. Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck are to report immediately to Commander Adama aboard the Galactica. I repeat, Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck are to report immediately to Commander Adama aboard the Galactica." The words of the unicom announcement filling the room seemed like a divine practical joke to Apollo. It took him ten microns after the announcement ended to finally release his hold on Sheba. "Damn," he lowered his head and whispered in frustration. "Damn, damn, damn." "Hey, it's okay," Sheba tried to cover her own feeling of frustration with a cheerful smile. "At least they waited until after we'd gotten through dinner." "Yeah," Apollo sighed. "I just...had more in mind for us than just dinner." "Did you?" Sheba kept smiling. "There'll be other times for us. If...you want there to be other times." He looked her in the eye. "I do." "Then you'd better do your duty right now and then we can get back to planning those other times." She paused. "I can go back with you to the Galactica if you like." "No, there's no point letting my pass go to waste. Damn procedure, they make you use up the whole thing in one visit or not at all." He pulled out the gold pass from his cape and handed it to her. "Here, I think there's a good show playing in the Astral Lounge, and...let's see take these cubits and try your luck in the Chancery. Try to have some fun while I find out what this is about." "I'll keep myself occupied," Sheba said as she rose from the sofa, "But I refuse to have any more fun all by myself." Apollo smiled. "I hope you're not implying that you'd take advantage of my generosity to find some other lonely gent aboard the Rising Star." "Not a bit," she returned it. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm already answered for." They shared another kiss and then ten microns later, the unicom announcement filled the room again. "All right, all right!" Apollo said in exasperation as he reluctantly let go of Sheba and headed for the door. As soon as he was gone, Sheba settled back on the couch and let out a contented sigh. It may not have gone as far as she would have really wanted to see things go, but at least it had amounted to what she was certain was a new beginning for the both of them. "I love you, Apollo," she said aloud to the empty room. For Starbuck, the period following the ceremony had consisted of a trip to the Officer's Club for more chatting about the recent mission with his fellow warriors. After thirty centons, he excused himself and made his way down to the Life Station, where he found an annoyed Cassiopeia still on duty. "Got a few centons for a hero, Cass?" he grinned. "Don't I wish!" his girlfriend rolled her eyes and set down her computer clipboard where she'd been making notations on the recent list of patients who'd come in for treatment. "Of all the nights for me to have taken over a fellow med-tech's shift. You couldn't have used your hero's influence to have had the ceremony put off another night?" "Hey, a Gold Cluster can only go so far," Starbuck fingered his decoration with obvious pride. "But for tonight at least, it's earned me the right to stay up as late as I can until you're off duty." "And then?" for the first time she smiled. "That will be the big surprise," he said in his trademark charming style. "I wouldn't want to distract you too much by giving you the specifics of what I've got in mind just yet." "I'll bet you're still trying to think of an idea at this point," she said disarmingly, in a way that could puncture his braggadocio in an endearing manner. "Well if I am, you'll never find out," he then looked about the room. "So how did we fare on casualties in the battle?" "No deaths, thank the Lords. About five cases of emergency surgery for broken bones. And one severe case of mental anguish from Dr. Wilker over the total loss of his main lab. I had to give him two sedatives just to calm him down." "Well at least he's still got his back-up on the Electronics Ship. Didn't he move Baltar's centurions over there and some of his other projects?" "He did, but all of his notes and data on those projects were still on his computers in the main lab and he hadn't transferred the files yet. He's got to start all over from scratch as far as those are concerned." "Ah well, he'll get over it. Once he starts working on them again, he'll be fine." Starbuck sat down on an empty examination table and pulled out a fumarello. "Starbuck, you ought to know better than that!" the blonde med-tech protested as she snatched it out of his mouth. "Hey, that was for chewing on, not lighting up!" Starbuck said hastily. "No," she said firmly as she stuck it in the pocket of her tunic. "You'll get it back when you take me to wherever it is you have in mind after I get off-duty." The brash warrior grinned. "Okay, you're on. In the meantime, to speed things along for you here, how about I fill you in with all the inside details of my dramatic infiltration mission inside the baseship?" "I can hardly wait," Cassiopeia said with mock sarcasm as she picked up her mini-computer again and moved over to the other side of the Life Station. "You're probably going to give me the version where my hunch was right, and there really was a beautiful female prisoner waiting for you to rescue, but your sense of duty came first." "Hmm, that's even better than the one I had in mind. Chameleon been giving you lessons on how to come up with stories like that?" Cassiopeia froze for an instant. It quickly passed, but her voice had the slightest trace of one who had just been rattled. "Why do you ask?" "Ah, I don't know. I got a telecom message from him before the ceremony. Said he was hoping we could hook up on the Rising Star sometime in the next sectar." "You and him, or the three of us?" she felt relieved that Starbuck hadn't noticed it. "Didn't say," he shrugged. "I would have thought maybe the three of us. He...kind of thinks highly of you, from what I gather." "And what do you think of him, after all this time?" Starbuck looked up thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Hard to say. He's a nice enough guy, but I think all that stuff I said after that sorry business about seeing each other from time to time was a little too much. There's no hard feelings or anything like that, but there's no need to become buddy-buddy or for me to think there's any obligation to keep checking up on him. He's got his life to manage, I've got mine." "So you turned him down on the invitation?" a feeling of unease crept inside Cassiopeia. "Nah, I just said I'd look into that and let him know whenever anything was convenient. If he doesn't hear from me after awhile he'll probably just realize it's time for both of us to move on." "And if he doesn't realize that, and contacts you again, are you going to tell him all that?" she knew she had to choose her words very carefully. "I don't know," Starbuck came off the table. "But...when you get down to it, he's no different than other people I've shared experiences with on a mission or something like that. I don't hang out with Robber or any of the people from Proteus Colony, and I haven't seen Croft or any of the other people from Arcta since that mission. Sooner or later it's got to be the same with Chameleon. He's a nice guy, but...well he's really not relevant to my life." "Is that your criteria for making new friends, Starbuck?" Cassiopeia decided to go to the limit of what she could say to him. "Their long-term 'relevance' to you in your life?" He sighed. "It's just that...look, you know I'm not much for branching out. I feel like I've got the circle of friends I need right here aboard the Galactica. Maybe it'd be different if he actually lived and worked aboard ship, but he's all the way out on the Senior Ship, and I just...well, I just don't have the time." He then looked up at her, "You must really like him a lot if this is upsetting you." "I didn't say it was upsetting me," she knew she had to move away from the subject quickly. "It's just... a little surprising. That's all." The sound of the unicom then filled the Life Station. "Attention. Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck are to report immediately to Commander Adama aboard the Galactica. I repeat, Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck are to report immediately to Commander Adama aboard the Galactica." "Oh frack," Starbuck grunted. "Doesn't a Gold Cluster count for anything anymore?" He came up to her. "Looks like your being on duty tonight had its advantages after all. Nothing to be interrupted when nothing was going on at the time." "If he doesn't need you for long, I get off in two centars." she said. "Well, knowing the Commander, and knowing where Apollo went off to tonight, I can guarantee this won't be over that quick." he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Catch you later, Cass." As soon as he was gone, Cassiopeia found herself filled with a sense of dread that the fuse to a timebomb had just been lit. It didn't take long for Apollo's anger over his evening with Sheba being interrupted to fade. His shuttle ride back to the Galactica soon gave him another thing to be more angry about as he watched the IFB coverage on the video-com in the passenger section. "...as you know we have canceled our scheduled programming to discuss this incredible news story we broke earlier this evening when Sire Antipas told Zara the extraordinary news of Commander Adama's agreement to release Baltar from the Prison Barge. Sire Antipas has since left us to attend a pending meeting of the Council of Twelve to discuss this matter, but we are now pleased to have with us in the IFB studio, a former member of the Council, who can give us his perspective of what might come of this, Sire Uri." The camera pulled away from chief anchor Zed to reveal sitting next to him the former Council member who had resigned his seat in disgrace following the Battle of Carillon. In the yahren since, Uri had put on considerably more weight and seemed an even bigger shadow of the handsome man he had been in his long-ago youth. But his more aged appearance was offset by a bemused smirk that indicated he was clearly enjoying the occasion. Watching, Apollo felt a wave of both anger and revulsion go through him. If he weren't surrounded by other passengers on the shuttle, he might have been tempted to shout an epithet. "Sire Uri, what are your thoughts on this stunning development?" Uri shrugged. "I don't know what to say. I'm sure that like all of us who've heard this news, there can only be shock, surprise and disappointment that Commander Adama would take this step. All of us know how Baltar is the most despised person in the history of mankind, and bears sole responsibility for the plight we find ourselves in. We all recall how the news of his capture was probably the only joyous occasion we'd experienced since our flight from the Colonies until the recent destruction of the baseship. And now we discover that he's to become a free man again. What can anyone say in response to such news?" "It has been pointed out that from a legal standpoint, Commander Adama is well within his rights to do this, and it has been pointed out even by Sire Antipas that there may have been compelling military reasons that forced Commander Adama to make this agreement." "Well, yes. Yes, Adama does have the right to do this. And like Sire Antipas, I would not presume to question Adama for making the deal if it was to get information we needed to help destroy the baseship. But of course as I think the good councilor pointed out, now that we have successfully destroyed the baseship, Baltar serves no useful purpose to us anymore. Why should we feel ourselves bound to honor such an agreement? After all, honor and the principle of keeping one's word are concepts that Baltar mocked for eternity when he became the instrument of destroying the Colonies. Surely a telling lesson for this worthless individual is to see his principles used against him! And in the process to see his suffering increased as it should." "And do you believe that if Commander Adama goes through with this, there could be serious repercussions?" Uri shook his head, and the faint smirk returned. "I wouldn't presume to speculate on that. Nor would I presume to speculate what the members of the Council should do. I'm no longer a member of the Council. I do not hide from the fact that my opinions are not those that most are eager to seek out in light of the circumstances that led to my departure from the Council. I can only speak as a concerned private citizen who hopes that something is done about this. Right now, I think it's safe to say that all of us who are shocked and outraged by this development will be paying close attention to what comes out of this Council meeting." "Thank you, Sire Uri. Our special coverage will continue in a few centons." Apollo felt himself seething inside with intense fury. For the rest of the journey back to the Galactica it took extreme effort to keep that fury from exploding. Once he was aboard the Galactica, he didn't bother to stop in his quarters to change out of his dress uniform. Instead, he went straight to his father's quarters where he found a subdued Starbuck already there. "Thank you for coming, Apollo," his father rose from behind his desk, his tone apologetic since Starbuck had told him where Apollo had been. "I'm really sorry I had to interrupt your evening-" "Father," Apollo cut him off, finally letting his anger surface, "You can't let the Council do this!" Adama was taken aback to see Apollo angry over the issue and not over being summoned. "I...take it you had a chance to see the IFB on your trip back." "Interviewing Uri of all people to pass judgment on you! It's insane!" "Apollo," his father injected a careful note of parental authority in his tone. "If you're to be of any help to me, then you're to calm down. Now." His words had an immediate effect on his son, and Apollo took several breaths to make sure he was totally composed. "Okay," Apollo finally spoke in a calm tone. "What do you need us for?" "To tell the Council in no uncertain terms that without Baltar's information, there would have been no chance of the mission being successful." He paused. "That is the truth, isn't it?" "Yes sir," Starbuck spoke up. "Without Baltar's directions to the Command Center, we would have been scurrying about like a couple of trapped Taurean rats in the dark." "That won't matter to them," Apollo shook his head. "They're going to say it makes no difference if his information was the key or not, and that you should just forget about the deal." Starbuck found himself biting his lip as he awkwardly decided that he needed to get his own feelings on the record. "Commander, ah...at the risk of being indiscreet, I ah..." "If you wish to tell me that you don't understand why I can't just renege on the deal like they say I should, you may do that, Starbuck," Adama said gently. The blonde warrior seemed surprised. "Well, yes sir. That is how I feel, I ah...I just don't see why it's a pledge you should feel bound by." "Starbuck-" Apollo protested, stunned to hear his friend take this position. But his father held up a hand to cut him off. "Apollo, don't be so surprised. It isn't just my opponents who have reason to feel that way, it's also good people like Colonel Tigh and Starbuck and probably the overwhelming majority of those in the Fleet. It has an eloquent logic to it, especially when it comes to someone like Baltar." He leaned back in his chair. "But I can not let emotional decisions, however justified they are under the circumstances, dictate the course of action we take if we are to survive for the long-term as a people. You bend the rule of law just once with regard to the principles we hold dear that give us a right to say that we are the side that was on the right in the war we fought, and you make an even bigger mockery of all that we stand for." He paused. "Do you understand that, Starbuck?" The blonde warrior swallowed uneasily and nodded. "Yes sir, I understand what you mean. It's not how I would have reasoned things, but...I guess that's why I know I'll never be in the kind of position you're in, of having to deal with these kinds of questions." "Thank you," Adama said. "I can count on your total support at the Council meeting?" "Completely, sir." "And Apollo, when you make your case, you are to treat all the members, and I emphasize all of the members with nothing less than your total respect befitting their positions. This is not going to become an occasion to debate the matter of military versus civil authority." His son nodded, though inside he was still burning for the opportunity to lash out with fury at his father's opponents. "I understand, Father." "Good." Adama rose and consulted his chronometer. "The Council convenes in exactly fifteen centons. Let's go down there and pray that when the meeting is over, this will be resolved before it has a chance to become a full-fledged crisis." Chapter Three When Adama, Apollo and Starbuck entered the Council Chamber, they saw that the other eleven members were already in their seats. As Adama approached his chair at the head of the table, he made a quick study of the faces of the members to try and gauge which way they would go. There was no question about Antipas, Domra and Geller. Sire Montrose, he knew would not want to condemn Adama harshly but would likely oppose him. For allies, Adama knew that Siress Tinia and Sire Anton would likely be in his corner since both had come to have an abiding distaste of efforts aimed at undercutting Adama's authority. That meant that the other five members of the Council were the ones who represented the unknown factor. How they broke would likely tell the final story. As soon as Adama was seated, he gave a light tap of the ceremonial gavel. "The Council of Twelve will come to order," he said. "We have assembled at the request of our brother member, Sire Antipas. All members now being present, the chair now declares the floor open for debate and discussion on any issue of importance to the members." "Mr. President," Domra rose from his seat. "Sire Domra," Adama motioned, already sensing what was about to happen. "Mr. President, my brother members and I have requested this meeting to discuss the troubling news that you have plans to release Baltar from the Prison Barge. Is this in fact true?" Adama did not change his neutral expression. "I do not dispute that." "And is it also not true, that since the recent battle you have even seen fit to provide Baltar with guest quarters where he is free to indulge in choice food as he waits to be freed?" "My dear Domra, will you kindly dispense with the theatrics?" Sire Anton spoke up disdainfully. The oldest member of the Council and one-time aide to the late President Adar had been Adama's strongest ally for some time. Because of that, Anton could always be counted on to be the one member to stand up for the commander in the kind of blunt terms that Adama's sense of dignity would never permit. "This is not a tribunal. I think all of us are quite aware of what Adama has done and planned. Shall we just get to the point of what it is you want us to do?" Domra flushed at his colleague. "I believe my question was not inappropriate as it cuts to the heart of the matter of why this pending action constitutes such a great outrage." "I believe Sire Anton is right," Siress Tinia jumped in. "The matter of Baltar's guest quarters is quite irrelevant. What I want to know, and I'm sure my brother members wish to know, is if there is anything specific that is to be proposed by this Council? Because if the purpose is to simply express sentiments of indignation, then I consider these proceedings to be a complete waste of time." Watching, Apollo found himself surprised to see this kind of defense of Adama from Tinia. He had not formed a favorable impression of the Councilor during the matter of Baltar's aborted escape that resulted in more than half the Council members being taken hostage. But it was clear that had been a sobering experience for Tinia, and had won her over to Adama's side completely. "There will be a proposal in due time," Domra was beginning to wonder why Antipas or no one else among his supporters was bothering to speak up just yet. "But first-" "Then get to it, my dear Domra." Anton cut in with hint of acid in his tone. Domra now realized that he had been set up. Antipas had encouraged him to speak first, expressing the feelings of indignation and outrage that Domra was certain would be present in all the other members. Now it was clear that had been a ruse for Domra to present himself as out-of-control, enabling Antipas, the author of the proposal, to step in as the voice of reason. "The...proposal does not emanate with me," he struggled to calm his voice down, feeling embarrassed that he'd let himself end up in this position. "Our...esteemed brother, Sire Antipas, has drafted the measure." "If this is true, you may proceed, Sire Antipas," Adama motioned his gavel toward the young Council member. Antipas, who had been leaning back in his chair with his hand on his chin, smiled and rose, remembering to bow politely to Adama. "Thank you, Mr. President. Before I present this proposal, let me say that the natural anger felt by those such as our brother member, Sire Domra, no doubt reflects the impulsive feelings of many of us. But all of us are certainly in agreement that irregardless of what comes out of these proceedings, no disrespect or dishonor toward you will be part of that." Apollo shook his head in disbelief. The air of insincerity in Antipas' tone and manner was the most self-evident thing he'd ever seen in his life. But it was exactly the kind of approach capable of making a big impact with public opinion as a whole. And clearly, Antipas, unaffected by any of the incidents that had caused humiliation to the Council such as the Battle of Carillon and the Eastern Alliance incident, was in the perfect position to utilize that approach. Antipas pulled out a parchment scroll and began to read. "Be it resolved by the Council of Twelve, the following amendment to Section Six, Article Nine of the Colonial Charter of Governance. That with regard to the power of Executive Authority to grant pardons to those incarcerated for selected capital offenses of both treason against the state and murder of a fellow human being with malice, discretion of granting such pardons will remain with the Executive Authority. However, for these cases dealing with the aforementioned capital offenses, the granting of such pardons may be subject to reversal by a two-thirds vote of the full membership of the Council of Twelve." Antipas then placed the parchment back in the pocket of his elegantly cut tunic. "Mr. President, I ask for immediate consideration of this resolution." "The Chair now declares the floor open for discussion and debate on this resolution," Adama said. And then, he came forward in his seat with the slightest trace of a scowl lining his face, indicating that he intended to be the first one to speak on this issue. "Let me see if I understand you correctly, Sire Antipas," the Commander kept his tone in that perfect mixture of deference and firmness that had long served him well in the political world. "You are suggesting that Colonial jurisprudence be amended in such a way that Baltar's impending release can be theoretically nullified through legal means." "Mr. President, I think it might be wise to not look at this resolution from the standpoint of how it affects Baltar, but rather from the standpoint of how little it is that is being asked of you," Antipas was keeping his own voice deferential but firm as well. "The last yahren has demonstrated that we, as a Council, are not ready to return this Fleet to a state of total control by civil authority. No one is suggesting anything that could be considered a replay of the unfortunate debacle of last sectar, when a quorum foolishly chose to lift the state of martial law and plunged us into near chaos when Baltar and the Eastern Alliance staged that prison break." Domra settled lower into his chair as his cheeks reddened in further embarrassment. Antipas was doing all he could to humiliate past opponents of Adama in a public setting, and he knew he could get away with it since Domra's vote for the resolution was a given. "Hear, hear," Montrose spoke up. "I count myself among those who would never be in favor of any resolution that would question your authority as Fleet Commander and the leader of our people, Adama. This resolution amounts to only a simple change in an insignificant administrative matter that will prevent a debacle of a worse kind from happening. And since I believe all of us trust your judgment to never see any other need of invoking pardon power for anyone else guilty of a capital offense, this will ultimately change nothing for the long-haul." "Will it really, Sire Montrose?" Adama brought his hands together. "Do any of you who believe in supporting this resolution, feel that there are no dangerous precedents set by this action?" "What dangerous precedent can there possibly be?" Sire Geller scoffed. "This resolution is, as our brother Antipas has demonstrated, the most limited in scope imaginable. Unless you intend to make pardoning traitors and murderers a habit, Adama, then there is no reason why it should ever concern you again after it is used on this one occasion." "At the rate this is going, there's no way we can be of any help," Starbuck leaned over and whispered in Apollo's ear. "Seems that way," he whispered back. "Let's hope that changes soon enough." Adama chose his next words deliberately. "I believe all of you are quite familiar with the Codes. And I would assume that includes the concept of 'retroactive adjudication', does it not?" he let his words hang in the air. There was no immediate response as Antipas' eyes narrowed slightly. On the other side of the table, Anton was slowly nodding as if to say, Brilliant. A micron later, it sunk in on Apollo and he began to relax for the first time. The President of the Council looked around the table at each member. "One of the principles in Colonial jurisprudence is a deep and abiding respect for the rule of law, and that no measures can be passed in order to change decisions made that were deemed unpopular because there was no appropriate legal remedy at the time to prevent them. That is the principle of retroactive adjudication and why it is considered illegal to consider any measures that are aimed toward such ends." He paused. "If you wish this limitation on pardon power to be enacted with regard to future matters, Sire Antipas, then I will not object to its passage. But if the measure is intended to undo that which I have done with regard to Baltar, then I must consider it null and void on the basis that it promotes the illegal doctrine of retroactive adjudication." He looked at the other members, some of whom were clearly beginning to waver slightly, while others showed expressions of frustration as they realized that from a technical standpoint, Adama was correct, but that it didn't change what they wanted to see happen. "So why don't we reduce this argument of yours to common Colonial Standard, Mr. President," Antipas' tone was soft, but his words blunt, "Baltar must be allowed to go free on a technicality. One that I doubt very much the people, who have probably never heard of retroactive adjudication before, would ever understand." "That is not the issue, Sire Antipas," for the first time Adama's voice grew cold and with more than a hint of anger over what he saw as the young councilor's grandstanding. "The issue is what we, as members of this body have taken sacred oaths to uphold, and those are the principles of our codes and all other aspects of Colonial civilization. Bend them just a bit in one place, and you risk the total undoing of all that we stand for, and all our claims to represent the side that is morally and ethically right in the conflict we have fought against our enemies." Geller was shaking his head and letting out an audible groan at this point. "Is that your reaction, Geller?" Anton decided it was time for him to jump back in. "To dismiss these concerns as trivial? If that is the case, then why, I ask, if it's so important for us to administer retroactive justice just because of Baltar, did we not do the obvious thing when he was captured? Why did we not just lift the suspension on the death penalty and have it retroactively applied to his crimes?" "Because that would have been a dangerous precedent to set. This one is not!" Geller shot back. "Why is there a fundamental difference?" Tinia chimed in. "Legal precedent is supposed to carry weight in all aspects of the Codes, doesn't it? The end result is still the same. If we're going to play the game of retroactive adjudication just to keep Baltar in the Prison Barge, then maybe we should just apply it so he could receive a far more appropriate punishment! But are any of us prepared to do that?" A silence hung in the air, indicating that no one had an answer to that question. Finally, Antipas spoke, sounding as though he hadn't been rattled in the least bit by this turn of developments. "We as representatives of the people, are ultimately answerable to them, and to History for that matter, in explaining our actions. How do we answer their questions, when they come up to us and demand an explanation for why Baltar is to be set free? Free to perhaps one day return to his position of chasing us through the stars from his own baseship? Do we wrap it up in a long-winded explanation concerning a principle called retroactive adjudication? Technically, you are probably correct about this principle. But why, I ask, must we consider ourselves bound by such principles? Why, I ask, is someone like Baltar, not worthy of being made an example of by the methods he used to betray us all, and to betray the oath that he took as a member of this body?" He paused for effect. "Perhaps it is important to the maintenance of the letter of Colonial Jurisprudence that my resolution not apply to Baltar. But at what cost to our honor, Mr. President? At what cost?" his words trailed off into a pointed whisper. "The maintenance of our honor as a people, Sire Antipas," Adama refused to be intimidated. "And I say this as someone who takes absolutely no pleasure over the fact that I have become the instrument of Baltar's freedom. I don't think that I, of all people, need to be reminded of the terrible losses we all suffered because of him. I saw my son killed before my eyes, and I walked through the burned ruins of my house. My reasons for hating Baltar are no less than yours or anyone else's in this Fleet. And if this occasion is to be used to suggest to the people that I have no regard or respect for the magnitude of what Baltar's crimes are, then it is an implication that I deeply resent." "No one is suggesting that, Adama!" Montrose protested. "Not in direct words, no, but the net effect is the same, is it not?" Adama retorted. "That is certainly the implication that I believe would be left if certain members chose to express their views to the IFB for all the people to see, would it not?" He directed his last words at Antipas. The young councilor had his hand on his chin once again, an expression of total bemusement lining his handsome countenance. The commander was now glaring at each member of the Council, one by one. "When I took my oath as a warrior fifty yahrens ago, and pledged myself to defend the Colonial nation against the Cylons for the rest of my life, I made it because I believed that I was fighting for a just cause. I believed then, and I have believed ever since that the reasons why our cause has always been just is because we as a people stood for important principles that set us apart from the treachery of the Cylons. And that was made clear to me on my very first day at the Academy when I was told that above all, the human race stands for honor and integrity." He then focused his attention on Domra, Geller and Antipas. "And now I sit at this table and I hear some of you guided by emotionalism, and others guided by crass opportunism, who would have us renounce those values that have made our people great and instead lower ourselves to the same level of conduct more worthy of Cylon behavior. Whether this measure applies to Baltar or the most common of thieves, it still violates principles that we decided long ago were essential toward the maintenance of a truly just legal system. And I have no desire to see that system mocked merely because it is not working toward results that our emotional sentiments would have preferred." He could see Anton and Tinia nodding fervently in agreement while the other members who had said nothing up to this point seemed to be wavering more and more from what their earlier instincts might have been. "Of course, perhaps I could have prevented this from happening by not making such a promise to Baltar in the first place. And then where would you all be now?" he motioned for the first time to Apollo and Starbuck. "Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck can give you all a firsthand account of how Baltar's information was the single-most critical factor to our success in the recent battle. Should I have you indulge them for the next thirty centons to remind you of that?" "There is no need for that, Adama," Montrose had no desire to fight any longer. "We are all aware of the circumstances that compelled you to take this action. We merely wish to relieve you of the burden you would feel over having to set this monster free!" "My relief must ultimately come from authority higher than this Council, my brothers." Adama refused to let Montrose's sympathetic words impress him. "I have made my decision. I regard my word on the matter to be solemn and binding before the oath I have taken as a warrior to uphold Colonial law, and before the Almighty Himself. If the principles that make what is left of this civilization have any meaning, and if we wish to see those principles flourish anew in the Thirteenth Colony, then I will not permit them to be dishonored." he then looked about the table again. "And I hope that if all of you hold those principles dear as well, you will not place your vote on the side of repudiating them." Another silence filled the room. Even Antipas found that he could not help but admire Adama's sense of determination. What a pity that his foolish sense of nobility will ultimately be his downfall one day, he thought. "Can we consider debate on this resolution to be at an end?" Adama's voice now returned to that of the Council President concerned with procedural niceties. "If there is no objection, perhaps the yeas and nays are in order?" "Mr. President," Antipas rose to his feet once again. "At this time, I ask to withdraw my resolution from immediate consideration, and reserve the right to reintroduce it at a subsequent meeting of this body with necessary amendments that might result in addressing some of these concerns you raise." Adama's eyes narrowed. He knew that the young Councilor was trying to buy time in the hopes of presenting his case directly to the people on the IFB. Undoubtedly in the hopes of creating a public backlash designed to force Adama into caving in. Even if it didn't succeed, Antipas would still emerge as a winner in the dispute with his reputation enhanced to new levels of prestige. "I second the proposal," Geller said. "Surely you are open to letting us have time to present a proposal based on more reasonable standards to your way of thinking, Adama." The commander knew that it would not be prudent to block this measure. Also, he knew that from a technical standpoint, he had no right to block this course of action. If he did, then he knew he immediately exposed himself to charges of hypocrisy. "The proposal has been moved and seconded." Adama said. "Those in favor, will say aye." "Aye!" every member at the table spoke in one voice. "Those opposed will say no." After a micron's silence. "The Council of Twelve now stands adjourned." Adama rapped the ceremonial gavel bringing the meeting to a close. The commander didn't bother to say anything more to his fellow members. Instead, he motioned to Apollo and Starbuck to follow him out. From the other end of the table, Antipas remained seated, feeling an enormous sense of satisfaction at this point. As soon as they were in the corridor, Starbuck said aloud. "Well, I guess that's been dodged..." "Don't say anything," Adama held up a hand as they kept walking. "Not until we're in my quarters." Starbuck and Apollo traded glances with each other, indicating that both of them had no idea what Adama had in mind. When they were finally in the privacy of Adama's quarters, Apollo was anxious to start talking. "You should feel good that you stopped him for now." "It was a temporary victory," Adama sat down behind the desk and warily rubbed his temples. "By this time tomorrow, after he's had a chance to do at least several IFB interviews, Antipas will be back with another resolution that will try to achieve the same result without falling into the retroactive adjudication trap. And my supporters tonight might easily jump ship tomorrow." "Well if it comes to that, does it really matter?" Starbuck decided to speak up. "I mean isn't there some way where the deal can be undone without breaking Colonial law?" "Starbuck," Adama said coldly. "We've been over this. There is no way of reconciling Colonial law to breaking my word." "He's right, Starbuck, so drop the subject!" Apollo said sharply. "Look, those guys might be a bunch of snitrods, but they're right about a few things. If I'm wishing there was some way you could undo the deal, then do you think most of the rest of the people are going to call all that talk about retroactive adjudication anything but a bunch of felgercarb?" Adama let out an exasperated sigh but nodded in agreement. "Yes, you're right and that's the frightening part of the whole thing. We think with our emotions, and we don't take the time to step back and look at the deeper meaning of it all. That's what led to the Destruction, that's what led to near disaster at Carillon, that's what led everyone to blindly follow Count Iblis. When will the people ever learn to use their heads for a change and step back and think about what it is that keeps us together?" The audio-com to the Bridge sounded and Adama warily reached over to answer it. "Yes?" "Commander, this is Sergeant Castor. I'm really sorry to bother you about this, but Baltar is demanding he speak with you immediately. I...think he's gotten wind of the Council meeting that just went on." "Damn," Adama whispered. "Why didn't I think of having his video-com shut off?" he pressed the intercom to respond to the security guard. "Have him brought here immediately." "What are you going to tell him?" Apollo asked quietly. "Are you going to tell him to his face that you still plan on releasing him?" His father lowered his head and it seemed like he had just aged visibly. "God help me," he whispered. "This is the most terrible decision I've ever had to make. And I'm presented with choices that can only haunt me one way or the other." "And what's it going to be?" his son hadn't seen him like this since the night of the Destruction. "Your word of honor, or political expediency?" A mirthless smirk formed at the corner of Adama's mouth. "You almost sound like you're wavering, Apollo." "Actually, I'm not," his son said. "I agree with everything you said about how keeping one's word is important, and how the law must be upheld even when it doesn't work the way we think it should. But...doing it to Baltar's face is enough to make anyone feel sick to their stomach." "True," Adama nodded. "This will not be pleasant. But...it can't deter me from what has to be done." He straightened his posture. "I'd appreciate it if the both of you stay once he arrives." "I'll try not to let the sight of him make me feel sick," Starbuck said. Two centons later, the door chime sounded. "Enter." The door slid open and an unshackled Baltar entered, with Castor staying close behind him. "Please wait outside, Sergeant," Adama said. "I'll notify you when you're needed." "Yes sir," the security guard nodded and departed. As soon as the door closed, Baltar looked around the room and noticed Starbuck and Apollo's disdainful expressions, followed by Adama's. Immediately, the traitor broke into that malicious chuckle that always made Apollo's skin crawl. "Well, well," Baltar said. "Decided you needed moral support, Adama?" he turned back to the two warriors. "Incidentally, since this is the first time we've seen each other since before the battle, may I offer both of you my congratulations for the way you were both able to follow my instructions to the letter." Neither of the two warriors said anything. "Was there only one guard patrolling the bottom of the central core, as I said?" Apollo let out a dismal groan but managed to nod his head, yes. "Then all of you are well aware that I kept my end of the bargain in full," he faced Adama, who had an implacable stare of mild contempt on his expression. "Do you still plan on keeping your end of the bargain, Adama, or do you plan on letting the Council dictate affairs in this Fleet from now on?" The commander rose from his chair and glared at him. "What if I did, Baltar?" his voice was a contemptuous whisper. "What if I did choose to heed their advice and consider your pardon null and void?" Baltar said nothing for several microns but then smiled and shook his head. "Could you really bring yourself to that course of action, Adama? That, I seriously doubt. However-" the smile faded from his face. "If you did decide to break character, then circumstances would compel me to play a card I've hoped I might be able to use one day." Adama's contemptuous expression faded, replaced by one of confusion. "What are you talking about?" The traitor disdainfully looked away from him, toward Apollo and Starbuck. "I had a chance to see young Antipas on the IFB earlier this evening. He's a remarkable man. Most unlike his late father. It would seem that Antipas is a man determined to challenge you for ultimate leadership of this Fleet one day." "What of it?" Adama had no idea where the traitor was going, nor did either of the two warriors, who were fighting the urge to physically assault Baltar. "That would indicate that for Antipas, it isn't the fact that I am to be released that has galvanized him, it's the opportunity to try and humiliate you." he paused. "Because of that, I don't think he would be unreceptive to hearing something from me that might further his cause in that area." "How could you possibly do that?" Adama refused to let himself be intimidated. Baltar's voice dropped to a tone of cold contempt. "By telling him about a certain offer I made to you on Kobol that you chose to reject because of your delusional obsession with a place called Earth." Adama's eyes widened in stunned surprise at hearing this long-ago event brought up. "You heard me, Adama," Baltar was almost seething, because this was a matter he'd wanted to throw back in Adama's face for a long time. Now the opportunity had arrived and for the traitor it had become a cathartic experience. "I'll tell him how I made an offer that would have kept this Fleet from wandering about in space on this aimless journey to some ancient myth you're obsessed with. An offer that would have given you and everyone a chance to do what they would have preferred in an instant and that's total revenge against the Cylons for their treachery. I had everything in place to stage a counterattack that would have resulted in the destruction of the Cylon home planet, but all I needed was your cooperation. But because you're so obsessed with implementing your insipid vision of finding a non-existent tribe of humanity on the other end of the galaxy, you chose to put your own sense of self-righteousness above that of the people of this Fleet!" "You actually believe we had a reason to think that was a genuine offer, Baltar?" Apollo almost shouted with fury at the traitor. Baltar turned around and glared at the dark-haired captain. "That's a strange comment coming from you, Captain, since I have a vivid recollection of you in that tomb having a quite different reaction!" he then shifted his gaze to Starbuck. "And you, Lieutenant! You of all people should have known what it was I had in mind. You were my prisoner but I released you. Because that was to be my way of showing my intentions were genuine when I presented my offer to Adama." Now he whipped his head back toward the commander. "But no, you just had to disrupt everything because you've decided that you alone, of all people, have decided how humanity is to survive and that's on your terms only in this happy vision of a place called Earth someday." He shook his head angrily. "I think Antipas will find all that most illuminating. It might not buy me my freedom, but at least it would give me the satisfaction of seeing you pay for what you did when you rejected me, Adama. Since you have already decided in the last sectan that there were circumstances when you would be compelled to ask for my help and to trust me, and since you have seen that I am capable of keeping my word, then your previous decision to reject my offer suddenly takes on a new connotation for those like Antipas." For the first time since Baltar had begun his tirade, Adama spoke. To the surprise of both Apollo and Starbuck, it was in a neutral tone. "The matter of your self-interest dictated your decision last sectan, and was evident to me from the outset, Baltar." "What do you think was motivating me when I made that offer on Kobol?" Baltar almost spat at him. "Do you honestly believe I wanted to be serving the Cylons at that point after seeing how they double-crossed me and destroyed Piscera and everything I'd cherished?" "All of which you'd been hoping to rule as your own private empire with Cylon protection, right Baltar?" Starbuck acidly interjected. One glance at Apollo's face told the blonde warrior that his friend had been rattled by Baltar's retort, so now it was up to him to pick up the slack. The traitor gave him a smirk to indicate that he wasn't intimidated by the remark. "Perhaps so, Lieutenant. But once I saw what the previous Imperious Leader had done, and saw how he planned on having me executed, my sense of self-preservation could only have dictated one course of action, and that was to find a way to get back in good graces with my fellow humans." he turned back to Adama. "Call my motives self-serving if you will. The bottom line Adama, is that the offer was genuine and you turned it down for your own reasons that would never be understood if word of this event were made public." he paused for effect. "And if you refuse to honor our agreement, I will do all I can to make sure that this news is made public to Sire Antipas and all others who might listen. Consider that, before you taunt me any further with threats to go back on your word." The fury was gone from Adama's face. To Apollo it was an expression of total resignation. Finally, Adama flicked the intercom. "Sergeant Castor, you may enter." his voice was back to its normal level of authority. A micron later, the door opened and the muscular security guard entered the room. "You are to escort Baltar to Alpha Bay and put him aboard the supply shuttle." Adama said firmly. Castor glanced over at Baltar with the slightest disdain and nodded. "Yes sir." "And use an auxiliary turbo lift," the Commander said. "I don't want there to be the slightest risk of you running into a member of the Council." "I understand, sir," he motioned to Baltar. "Okay, let's get going." Baltar said nothing. His only response was to throw Adama a taunting smile of triumph as Castor led him out. As soon as the door closed, Adama dropped into his chair and let out a slow, deflating exhale. Both Apollo and Starbuck were trembling with anger and frustration. "I can't believe what I just heard," Apollo whispered. "It's as if there's no sense of rationality left anywhere in this Fleet." "He just demonstrated why it's more imperative than ever to have him released," Adama said quietly. "Baltar is a cancer waiting to destroy the dream of keeping this Fleet on its quest of finding Earth one day. Because the sad fact of the matter is that everything he said about Antipas using that information is true. It would be just the occasion for Antipas, Domra and the rest of them to say we should abandon the quest immediately and just settle on the first uninhabited planet we find." He shook his head. "I can not let that happen. The very thing that's kept me alive this last yahren and given me the strength to answer the call to lead our people can not be put at risk." He finally faced both of the warriors. "Now you see why releasing him is no longer a simple matter of preserving my word of honor." "You're absolutely right, Commander," Starbuck nodded fervently. "The sooner we get rid of him, the better." "We'll get him out tonight, Father," Apollo said. "All we need to know is what planet you intended to set him free on." "It'd serve him right if you just picked a dying planet where the air will be unbreathable in a yahren." Starbuck wrinkled his nose in disgust. Adama shook his head. "That would be even worse than reneging on the agreement, Starbuck." He flicked on his computer terminal. "The planet lies in the solar system beyond the one where the baseship was located. It's the second of three planets, class G-2 sun, temperate climate. Long-range scans don't indicate sentient life forms." The commander shut off the terminal and looked up at them. "I want you to waste no time in dropping him and his supplies off and getting back here before morning. And I also want your word that you aren't going to pull any stunt like forgetting to leave some of his vital supplies or shooting him in the back once he steps off the shuttle." "We'd never do that, Father," Apollo said. "Tempted as we'd be, it would be dishonoring you." "Thank you," Adama rubbed his eyes, feeling the weight of all the burdens he'd been forced to endure this day start to take their toll. "There is one thing though, Father," Apollo said. "Tomorrow, the Council will demand an explanation of why you went ahead and did this. And that could be just as awkward a situation for you as Baltar telling his story would have." "I think I know how I can negate their strategy in a few matters." "What I mean, Father, is that from an official standpoint, I think this should be made to look as though Starbuck and I chose to take action ourselves without any prior consultation with you." Adama came forward in his chair with a dubious expression. "You can't be serious." "I am," he looked at Starbuck. "If that is, you're willing to do that, Starbuck." "Oh sure," Starbuck was taken aback by the easy way Apollo had made that statement but was past the point of wanting to protest. "I'm glad to just volunteer again," he put a faintly sarcastic stress on the word volunteer. "Absolutely not," Adama shook his head. "There will be no deceptions pulled off. Do I have to see that added to the list of things that would make this whole affair uglier than it already is?" "But Father-" "Apollo, the answer is no," Adama said. "I am the Fleet Commander and the President of the Council of Twelve, and all decisions of this magnitude begin and end with me, and that means I alone must bear the consequences for my actions. I will simply tell the Council tomorrow the blunt truth. Since there is no possible way of seeing my agreement with Baltar nullified by any means other than retroactive adjudication, it makes more sense to dispense of the matter immediately. They can't take any punitive action against me because there was no understanding when the meeting broke up that the matter of Baltar's release had been placed in abeyance." Apollo reluctantly nodded. "Yes sir." "Apollo, I appreciate your sense of self-sacrifice," Adama said. "But there is no point in you or Starbuck having your reputations hurt because of this. And that's the only thing that would happen if you chose to promote the lie that you did this on your own." "I know, I know, I just-" Apollo sighed in frustration. "I just wish there was a better way." "If we need a sense of perspective, consider this," Adama said. "We were placed in this position because we were able to successfully eliminate the threat of destruction from the baseship. I think all of us agree that given the choice, seeing Sire Antipas' prestige enhanced as a consequence of eliminating that threat is ultimately a very small price to have paid." For the first time, Apollo allowed himself a faint smile of admiration, as did Starbuck. "Okay, Starbuck," he motioned. "Let's get this over with." "It'll be my pleasure," the brash warrior grunted as he and Apollo left. Once he was alone, Adama pulled out the holopicture of Ila from inside his desk. And then, the emotional weight of what he'd endured on this day finally caught up with him as he buried his face in his hands. Chapter Four "You have no idea how glad I am that you're my conscience," Starbuck said as he and Apollo walked down the corridor that led to the turbo life. "I wish I could shoot Baltar in the back the micron we let him off." "Right now, your conscience wishes he could do the same thing," Apollo grunted. "But you know what burns me up the most? Baltar was right, I did take his offer seriously for a micron on Kobol. That's exactly why if word of the offer got out, Antipas would be able to make use of it, and Baltar knows that. It wouldn't get him free, but it would be enough to drag my father down with him." "And I hate to admit it, but I agree with you. I was aboard the baseship and I knew he was playing some kind of game. He had a pretty odd second-in-command who I got the impression didn't trust him much and thought he might plan something like that." "I remember your telling me about him. The Cylon who could talk normal?" "Yeah," Starbuck nodded. "Seems that's true of most higher classes of Cylons. Only the centurions talk in the funny drone voice." They stepped aboard the turbo lift and Apollo pressed the button that would take them down to Alpha Bay. "You think the Commander can weather this, once word gets out?" "I wish I could say yes," Apollo was clearly uneasy about that. "I really would feel a lot better if I could say that the two of us did this on our own, and that we thought it was keeping with his express wish. At the very least it might take some of the heat off him." Starbuck let out a dismal groan. "That's what I like about you, buddy. The way you always know when to make me a 'volunteer' for one of your missions. Why don't we make it complete and get Boomer in on it too?" "Okay, I'm sorry about that. But...frack, I just don't want to see him take these kinds of hits after what he's had to go through." "Look, he's the Commander, he knows that if you want to lead, you've got to be willing to take those hits sometime," Starbuck said forcefully, "Apollo, I know you're concerned for his well-being because he's your father, but you can't shelter him from the downside that comes with leading a whole nation." Apollo sighed and reluctantly nodded as the turbo lift came to a stop. The two stepped out on the tarmac and made their way across to the shuttle's location. Castor was standing guard outside the open hatch. "Okay, Castor. We'll take over from here." "Thanks," the security guard said with relief. "You have no idea how good it feels to not have to guard him any longer." "I think we'll know how you feel after we dump him," Apollo said, "All his supplies loaded?" "The commander took care of that a few centars ago. I think he was anticipating this might happen even before the Council meeting." "Okay. You can go off-duty now, and don't breathe a word about what you've just done to anyone until after the Commander makes the news public." "No problem. I plan on going back to my quarters and sleeping for the next cycle. I won't be talking to anyone." "Take care of yourself," Starbuck patted him on the shoulder. "Next drink in the Club's on the both of us." Castor smirked. "I'd settle for the two of you letting Boomer and me win the next triad match. Having to guard him," he motioned his thumb behind him to the shuttle. "should entitle one to greater rewards." The security guard walked away and Apollo and Starbuck entered the shuttle, quickly closing the hatch behind them. Baltar was seated in the passenger section, his arms folded and legs crossed, his expression totally placid. Behind him, the warriors could see more than ten crates stacked up, all of which contained the materials that would be essential to the traitor's ability to survive. Upon seeing them, Baltar let out another of those annoying smirks, "Gentlemen." Neither warrior acknowledged him as they settled into the cockpit seats. Apollo made several entries into the navigational computer, so he could have the coordinates and course trajectory for the planet in question. Once the readout came up, he and Starbuck went through a cross-check before deciding that all systems were go. From the pilot's position, Apollo started up the shuttle's power systems, which allowed it to move out from its parked position. Several centons later it was in position to exit the Galactica. Then, Apollo activated the main engines and the shuttle was away from the battlestar. As soon as the shuttle reached a normal cruise trajectory, Baltar let out another satisfied chuckle. The traitor knew he didn't need to say anything more to either of them. He knew that at long last, he had finally been able to best his most hated rival, and it was enough to just savor the moment of triumph. Up front, Starbuck decided that he couldn't stand the silence any longer. He decided to pretend that Baltar wasn't there. "So how did your evening with Sheba go?" Apollo darted his head in surprise that Starbuck would raise the subject. "Starbuck, why are you----" "Pretend he's not here," he cut him off. "I don't want to spend this entire flight in dead silence just because he's back there listening. What difference is it going to make after we drop him off?" Apollo sighed and nodded. "None, I suppose." "So fill me in." The black-haired captain made an adjustment and kept his tone low, "It was...perfect. That's all I can say." "Then would it be safe to say that as of tonight, you and Sheba became an item?" Apollo smiled thinly. "If you want to put it that way. It certainly wasn't any long-term commitment or anything like that." "No one expected that," Starbuck said. "It's just nice to see you take that kind of step after all these sectars. I figured you had to do it someday." "Did you?" "Of course. I can still remember the funny look on your face when Cain first showed her hologram image aboard the Pegasus." Apollo nodded. "I'd never let myself admit all that until the last few days. I guess I'd always been scared of taking that kind of step. And now...well now I know I don't need to be afraid of all that anymore. I don't know if Sheba and I ever will have anything real serious, but at least I know I'm capable of doing it. I...don't have to worry about letting Serina's memory bother me anymore." "Smart thinking." "I think the next thing is whether or not Boxey can accept it. That...well that could end up saying a lot about what the future might bring." The sound of Baltar's irritating chuckle then made Apollo stop. "Oh, please. Do continue, Captain. I'm finding this quite fascinating to learn that you've chosen to attend to more important things in life then the kind of thing your father is so obsessed with." Apollo gripped his hands tightly on the controls, and Starbuck wondered if his friend might get up and step back to punch Baltar in the face. "I'm sorry," he whispered apologetically. "Let it go. We'll be rid of him in a centar." "That's the only thing that's keeping me bolted to this seat." Starbuck decided he had to try and regain some sense of the offensive from the traitor. "So tell me something, Baltar," he said dryly. "Assuming you get rescued by your pals one day, how do you plan on explaining what happened to you?" Baltar disdainfully waved his hand. "A trifling detail, Lieutenant. One that is of no concern to me whatsoever. Convincing the current Imperious Leader is something that requires little." "How about your second-in-command?" Starbuck pressed. "From what I remember of him, he wasn't the kind of Cylon easily impressed by you." For the first time, the disdainful smirk faded from Baltar's face. Starbuck had managed to bring up the one thing that he knew would present difficulties when rescue came for him, and that was Lucifer. He had long been convinced that Lucifer's devious sense of ambition explained why there had never been any serious attempt to try and rescue him from captivity. And he knew that Lucifer was not apt to easily buy a story of him escaping from the Galactica. If it came to that, then Baltar would have to hope that someone else in the Cylon chain-of-command would stop Lucifer from impeding Baltar's return to power. And for now, the only one he knew he might be able to rely on in that situation was Spektor. The older IL Cylon, who'd been made commander of the outer capital garrison at Gomorrah on Baltar's recommendation, owed much to Baltar. And Baltar also knew that there was some kind of rivalry and hatred that had existed at one time in the past between Lucifer and Spektor, though Lucifer had never told him the cause of it. Taking advantage of that rift, in all likelihood, would be the key to his ability to resume his command. "Well, Baltar?" Starbuck repeated. The disdainful smile and wave of the hand returned to him. "Nothing, Lieutenant. You merely reminded me of the one thing that I found least enjoyable during my time as a baseship commander. I will need to rectify that as soon as possible." Starbuck shook his head in disgust and turned his attention back to the controls. From the corner of his eye, he cold tell that Apollo had calmed down somewhat but was still quietly seething inside over the fact that the traitor had overheard him talking about things Apollo seldom if ever talked about. A chilly silence filled the shuttle for the rest of the journey to the nearby planet. When the shuttle broke through the cloud cover of the planet, Apollo immediately noticed how the topography was an intriguing mixture of green vegetation with pockets of sparse terrain in the outlying areas. No signs of tall mountain peaks or inhospitable terrain. And according to the scanner, no signs of sentient life forms. It almost seems too good a place for him, he thought with disgust. More like the kind of place someone would want to escape to, rather than feel marooned on. He brought the shuttle to a stop at a point where the sparse areas ended and the greener areas began. Then, calmly collecting himself, he turned to Starbuck and spoke for the first time in nearly a centar. "All right, lets unload those crates." They rose from their seats and saw that Baltar was still seated, his arms still folded, legs still crossed. And enjoying every micron of what he was seeing. For the next ten centons, both Apollo and Starbuck lugged each crate out one at a time. Setting each one down a good fifty metrones away from the shuttle. The two of them said nothing throughout their work, knowing that if they did make any comment before the mission was done, both might conceivably go over the edge and do something rash. Finally, when the last crate had been set down, they returned to the shuttle and glared at Baltar, who throughout the entire time had not changed position. Only the malevolent smile revealed how he felt at that moment. "All right Baltar," Apollo spoke matter-of-factly. "Your supplies have been unloaded. You're in close enough proximity to both a natural water spring and edible vegetation so you're all set." "How considerate of you, Captain," the traitor bowed his head in mock humility. "You did see to it of course that the matter of the promised short-range communications transmitter was there?" Apollo's lip tightened into a straight line. To Starbuck, there was more fury raging within Apollo then at any time he could remember. Certainly not since the time Apollo had confronted Count Iblis. "I asked you a question, Captain," Baltar said pointedly. "Until you prove that what was promised me is there, I will not move from this spot." Slowly, Apollo let out an exhale to try and burn off the inner fury he felt. "Starbuck," he said calmly. "Open up the crates and bring it back here when you find it." Despite his grimace of disgust, the blonde lieutenant nodded and left the shuttle. Baltar's smirk increased and he brought his fingertips together. "You really hate me that much, do you Captain?" he said. "Why don't you just throw your sense of honor aside and shoot me right now? Then you can tell Starbuck that I attempted to kill you, and no one would ever know." Apollo felt himself seething again, clenching his fist. "Don't tempt me, Baltar." "Tempt you, Captain?" Baltar laughed, clearly unimpressed. "Do you think I'd act so brazenly if I really thought you'd give into such a temptation?" he finally rose from his seat. "Your never-ending sense of honor and belief that ethics must guide all decisions. Even to the point where one should accept destruction and death rather than surrender those principles." "You're the last person who can talk about ethics, Baltar," Apollo wished he could think of a better comeback, but he was too furious to think of one. "You're quite wrong, Captain," Baltar's voice dropped to a pointed tone. "For too many yahrens I saw how the human race's preoccupation with ethics and codes of honor held us back. Made us slacken in the war effort against the Cylons. Turning Colonial civilization into something soft and weak. Utterly incapable of surviving for the long-term because they kept appointing weak leaders who talked about honor and ethics and didn't act! And in the process guaranteed that their eventual destruction was inevitable," he paused. "That's why betraying Colonial civilization to the Cylons was too easy for me. All I did was accelerate the timetable of death for a patient that was terminally ill to begin with, hoping to save what mattered to me in the process." Apollo shook his head in amazement. "So for that, you justify actions that killed more than 15 billion men, women and children." "Colonial civilization's conduct made my actions inevitable, Captain," Baltar held his ground. "And based on your father's obsession with finding an ancient myth, it's too obvious that same spirit of weakness, and refusal to act will be the way of what's left of Colonial civilization to the very end." "Earth is no myth, Baltar," Apollo said coldly. "We already know the coordinates. It lies somewhere on the heading we-" Abruptly, Apollo stopped as he realized in horror what he'd been on the verge of doing. And now, he understood that he'd allowed Baltar to use Apollo's anger as a way of tripping him up. The malevolent grin and laugh on the traitor's face made it clear that Apollo's instinct had been right. "On the heading you've been following ever since my capture, Captain?" he said. "I may not know the exact numbers, but once I'm rescued it won't be too difficult to figure that out. Enough to at least tell me you and your Fleet won't be doubling off across the stars to the other end of the galaxy." "You bastard," Apollo whispered. "Always a game with you to the very end." "And that game goes on, even if I remain marooned on this planet for the next twenty yahrens, Captain," Baltar drew closer to him. "I intend to survive for however long it takes before I'm finally rescued and have a chance to make good my revenge on your father for taking away my last chance to redeem myself on Kobol." "You'll be in Hell before that happens, Baltar," Apollo matched his cold tone. "And if there is no Hell, Captain?" Baltar smirked. "Then at least I know I can die trying my best with a clear conscience before I go off to an eternity of pleasant dreams." Before Apollo could say anything else, Starbuck had returned holding a medium-sized box. "Here it is," Starbuck said coldly. "A simple Delta transmitter with dish for non-electronic usage. You ought to know how that operates." "I do indeed, Lieutenant," Baltar nodded politely. "Thank you. I can assume then, that all matters have been attended to." He came over to Starbuck and took the box from him and stepped into the hatchway leading out. And then, the traitor turned around and flashed one last smirk at the two warriors. "Goodbye gentlemen....For now, that is. Our paths will cross again one day." Baltar then turned and began to walk away. He had only gone several steps before Apollo yanked the switch that caused the hatch to slam shut. And then he let all his inner fury explode with a string of profane epithets. It wasn't until the planet had disappeared from view that Apollo finally broke the silence inside the shuttle. "I feel like I need to stand in a turbowash for a whole sectan after that." "Make room for me," Starbuck grunted. "But at least we don't ever have to worry about him again for the rest of our lives." Apollo looked down slightly. "I really wonder." "Oh come on, Apollo. Any signal from a Delta transmitter like that would only work if a baseship were in standard orbit above that planet. And even if he caught a lucky break on that, do you really think he could talk his way back into getting a command?" "Survival is the only thing he excels at, Starbuck," Apollo said, "He values that above everything else. And I've seen that firsthand when I put my life on the line against Charybdis because I knew his survival instinct would kick in and force him to save my life." He cast a glance back as though he were looking back toward the planet. "I really think he was right when he said our paths would cross again." Starbuck sighed as he realized that there was no way Apollo could be convinced otherwise. Not for now at least. He knew that the only thing he could do now was change the subject. "Did you leave Sheba hanging aboard the Rising Star?" For the first time, a smile came over Apollo's face. "Yeah. Gave her full use of my pass for however long I was gone. She's got another...thirty-six centars left on it by my reckoning." He paused. "I should get back in time to enjoy the last twenty-four." "You mean you trust her to still be waiting for you?" he said slyly. Apollo laughed. "Yes, Starbuck. I trust her." "You're a better man than I am. I'd never trust Cass alone amidst all that luxurious splendor, especially if she were wearing the kind of outfit she said Sheba got for the occasion." "Sounds as though you think the patented Starbuck charm only goes so far with her," Apollo needled. "When did you start developing this inferiority complex?" "Ah, ah," Starbuck raised a hand. "No changing the subject to me. I want to stay focused on you. I don't often get chances like this to hear you talk about your love life. And after all the yahrens of me being on the receiving end of these kind of conversations, you owe me one for a change." The black-haired warrior laughed. "Okay, you got me on that one. But don't abuse the privilege, Starbuck. Especially when...well especially when I have no idea how far this is going to go with her." "I won't," his friend said. "And I won't ever put you in an embarrassing situation, buddy. You know me better than that." "I know," Apollo nodded and leaned back in his seat. "I...don't know what else I really can say about her, Starbuck. All I know is that it took me a long time to finally admit something I'd always been trying to deny. And...well, I might as well admit this too. When we had that problem in the Fleet with Iblis, it...wasn't the fact that I had any special insight into what he was that made me hate him from the start. It was...the way he was taking Sheba under her influence." He paused, "And it was my fault that happened because if I'd been more honest back then to her, I might have kept her from falling under his spell. She needed someone to reach out to her when she was going through all that hell after the Pegasus disappeared, and because I didn't do that, she was a ripe target for Iblis' spell." Starbuck was amazed to hear this kind of openness from Apollo. It exceeded anything he'd heard from him in all the yahrens he'd known Apollo. "It's all in the past now, Apollo," Starbuck said gently. "Just like Baltar is. And now we can just look ahead to finding Earth one day." Apollo smiled. "I guess so." The rest of the trip back to the Galactica was a far more relaxed experience for them. When they arrived aboard the battlestar though, they immediately knew that was about to change. As they moved the shuttle into its final parking position, they could already see through the cockpit window the sight of several white-robed Council members standing and waiting. By the time the shuttle came to a stop, Apollo could easily recognize Sires Antipas, Domra and Montrose, flanked by two blackshirted men from Council Security. Domra and Montrose seemed both visibly angry while the younger councilman had a largely neutral expression. "Looks as though we've been expected," Starbuck grunted. "You'd think they could have let us get a few centars sleep for sagan's sake. It's 0400 and we've been up the whole cycle." "It might be another cycle at this rate," Apollo grunted as he shut down the engines and unhitched his belt. "Let's go." When they stepped out of the shuttle, Antipas stepped forward. "Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck, you will both accompany us immediately to the Council Chamber." "Mind if I sleep on that, first?" Starbuck sarcastically retorted. "It's been something of a long day for all of us." "This will not wait, Lieutenant," Domra said coldly. "You will accompany us to the Chamber to answer our questions, or else we will have Council Security detain the both of you." Starbuck flashed a disgusted look at Sergeant Reese, who seemed to be enjoying himself. "Think maybe I could get turbowash cleaning detail as a third choice?" "Get moving, Starbuck," Reese said. "The Commander won't bail either of you out if you chose to disobey a direct order." Apollo warily waved his hand in acknowledgment and they headed for the turbo lift. "Fortunately there are some people amongst the Galactica crew who know what to do when they become outraged over events that they never expected," Sire Antipas said later before the full membership of the Council, with Apollo and Starbuck sitting off to one side. "They decide to pick up a telecom and notify the IFB, who naturally then choose to broadcast the news that Baltar has been released before the Council had any opportunity to fully debate the matter. Making this meeting at this admittedly ungodly centar of the morning cycle, an absolute necessity." "Who in Hades talked?" Starbuck whispered. "Not Castor?" "No," Apollo shook his head. "It had to be someone from the ground crew who saw Baltar get loaded into the shuttle." Antipas fixed his stare on Adama. "I think I speak for a good many of us Adama, when I say we are deeply disappointed that you chose to go through with this release of Baltar before the matter was resolved." "There was no matter to resolve," Adama cut in coldly, not letting himself be intimidated. "The Council had passed no measure inhibiting my authority to dispense with this matter. And this Council took no action indicating that the matter was to be placed in abeyance." He looked about the table. "Do any of you recall such an agreement existing when we adjourned last evening?" An air of frustration seemed evident with Domra and Geller, while Montrose was grimly nodding his head as though he were conceding a point he did not like having to make. "Is that relevant, Adama?" Antipas pressed on. "It is relevant, if you honor the procedures under which we govern, Sire Antipas," Adama shot back. "Or is your prescription for the future one in which we take a selective approach to our Charter of Governance? I have acted entirely in accordance with the precepts of Colonial law, as befitting my oath as a warrior, and as President of this body, to uphold Colonial law. And I am not about to offer any apologies for that." He paused. "If you wish to reintroduce your resolution about giving the Council the right to override the pardons of any future prisoners who might be released, I am willing to have a debate on that measure. But the subject of Baltar is closed, and I do not believe that we should be wasting any time beating this subject to death." "I concur," Anton spoke up. "The game of recriminations is not a one-way street. I think there are some of my brothers on this Council who would not like to see certain past matters brought up that they have no reason to feel proud about. But we have all learned to wisely move on from those, and it's time we do the same with Baltar." the elderly sire paused. "Speaking for myself, I must confess I find it more satisfying that we're rid of him and that we need not waste any more food or space looking after him on the Prison Barge." "Though I am certain, Sire Antipas, that all of us wish that Colonial law could have allowed a more suitable punishment for his crimes to begin with," Adama said as he pulled out a parchment. "Recognizing that it would be wise to rectify that matter, the Chair now wishes to offer this resolution for debate." The Commander cleared his throat and began. "Be it resolved by the Council, the following amendment to Section Twelve of the Colonial Code of Justice, regarding the formal suspension of the death penalty by Council vote in 7204. That the Council now exercises its right to one day lift the suspension on all forms of the death penalty with regard to the following crimes. Premeditated termination of a fellow human being with malice, and treason against the state in which the loss of human life results from such actions. Such penalties are not to be enacted with regard to crimes committed before the enactment of this statute, but are considered binding on all subsequent criminal acts." Most of the members seemed surprised by the unexpected proposal. The suspension of capital punishment 150 yahrens before had long been regarded as a sacrosanct article of Colonial jurisprudence that demonstrated the high principles of concern for individual life. For those like Domra and Antipas, the idea that Adama would come up with this proposal never would have occurred to them. It was clear that for the first time, the young councilman had been knocked off-stride. It took him a half-centon to recover himself. "A...very interesting proposal, Commander," he said. "As a matter of fact, I don't see how any of us could object to that, could we?" he looked about the table, where everyone was either silent or shaking their heads in agreement. "And in fact, I believe it would satisfy all concerns that the matter of Baltar could never be repeated again. As a matter of fact, I think perhaps this provision could almost be regarded as the 'Baltar statute'." Apollo shook his head in amazement. Even after being briefly thrown for a loop, Antipas had wasted no time in recovering and thinking of how to spin the issue to his advantage. "If there are no objections, then I move for an immediate vote on the Commander's resolution." "Second," Anton spoke up. "And I further move for a voice vote by acclimation." "So ordered," Adama said briskly. "Those in favor will say aye." "Aye!" all members spoke in one voice. "Those opposed," he paused and heard silence. "The resolution is adopted." he then rapped his gavel on the table. "Now if there are any other matters the Council wishes to discuss with regard to pending or future resolutions, the Chair is willing to entertain such discussion. But the Chair will not permit any further discussion on matters that are from this point to be regarded as ancient history." Antipas smiled thinly and resumed his seat. "If there is no objection then, the Council stands adjourned," Adama rapped the gavel even harder. Slowly, the members rose from their seats and began to file out. As Adama remained seated at the head of the table, he saw Antipas, still smiling thinly, making his way over. "A brilliant stroke, Adama," he said quietly. "No doubt just the sort of thing to blunt public outcry over your release of Baltar. But I can assure you, the manner in which you have conducted yourself in this affair will not be forgotten by them...or by me." "I hope I can consider your remark to be a challenge, and not a threat, Sire Antipas," the commander replied coldly. "Threat?" the young councilman laughed. "You seem to have a paranoid streak, Adama. I only speak of what the people will do. And as their leader, you will inevitably be forced to see things their way, lest you create the aura that they live under a dictatorship in which their opinions have no standing whatsoever." Antipas then bowed slightly in respect. "Good day, Adama." and then he turned and departed, leaving the commander alone in the chamber with Apollo and Starbuck. "That Libran louse," Apollo was seething. "You can just bet he's headed straight for another IFB interview right now." "But the resolution will blunt the negative public outcry, and he knows that, Apollo," Adama said. "My willingness to tamper with something that was done 150 yahrens ago and regarded as the most important measure ever passed in the history of Colonial jurisprudence when we suspended the death penalty, is enough to reassure the people that I didn't like having to be in the position of releasing Baltar. And now they know that it can never happen again because anyone guilty of the crimes Baltar committed will have been executed and not be in a position to ever receive a pardon." "He'll just think of another approach," Apollo was still seething, "I thought Uri was bad enough, but he makes Uri look like an angel by contrast." "Hey forget it, buddy. It's over." Starbuck said gently and patted him on the shoulder. "And now that we're not needed here any longer, shouldn't you be heading somewhere else?" Apollo looked at him with a quizzical expression, and then suddenly he flushed in embarrassment. "Lords of Kobol, you're right!" the anger evaporated from him, replaced now by a sense of urgency. "Father, if you need me for anything, I'll be on the Rising Star." And then, he dashed out of the chamber before Adama or Starbuck could say anything else. Epilogue Apollo could feel his heart thumping as he walked down the corridor aboard the Rising Star, wondering how it was he could feel so nervous after he and Sheba had already taken the first step last night. Was it because he was still afraid of the thought of going any further? Was it because he still had some anxiety and doubt about having taken the first step to begin with? Well, one thing's for certain, he thought as he reached the door that led to the private room he had been forced to leave the night before, I won't get a chance to run from those questions. And I don't want to run from them, I want to play this out and see what it all means ultimately. He sounded the chime and tensed himself. When the door opened, he saw Sheba, looking refreshed after a night's sleep, and clearly pleased to see him. Almost immediately, the sight of her made Apollo relax, as though he just needed to be with her again to chase all the lingering doubts away. "Hi," Sheba smiled brightly at him. "So did you and Starbuck take care of business?" "Yeah," he managed to smile back. "We took care of it." "You look exhausted," she motioned. "Come on in and I'll fix you a drink. There's still nearly a full bottle left from last night." Apollo stepped inside and laughed. "I guess you didn't spend those lonely centars emptying it yourself?" "Not at all," she said as she closed the door and then without any hesitation hit the auto-lock. "So how did you spend your time with this magnificent room and full access to the ship?" Apollo dropped onto the sofa and stretched himself. "I made do," Sheba picked up the ambrosia bottle and poured some into a chalice. "A few rounds of Hi-Low in the Chancery. The evening show in the Astral Lounge. And throwing a cold look at any man making eyes at me." Apollo smiled and took the chalice. "Thank you." Sheba settled next to him on the sofa. "I had a feeling you'd try to make it back here before your pass expired." "You thought right," he took a sip, set the chalice down on the table and looked her in the eye. "The last sectan you've proved that you know a lot about how my mind works, Sheba. And..." he took a breath, "That's why I think it's important for me to reciprocate." He pulled her to him and they kissed each other as though they had never been interrupted the night before. "...And of course the news that Baltar was released this morning has been the only subject of any concern to the people of the Fleet. That's why we continue to devote our entire program schedule to discuss the fallout of this story, and what it might mean for the future. We are joined once again by former Council member, Sire Uri, for his thoughts on the situation. Sire Uri, what do you think this could mean for Commander Adama's ability to lead the people over the long-term?" "That will depend entirely on how forgiving the people are, Zara. Adama has made his decision, and it's his prerogative to do so. Whether it's a sign of things the people can expect in the future, obviously will remain to be seen." "And the news that Commander Adama has passed a resolution restoring the death penalty for treason and premeditated termination will have no impact at all on public opinion, in your opinion?" "That's up to them to make that decision whether they see this decision in a cynical light of Adama doing this to deflect attention." "We heard earlier from Sire Antipas that the results were disappointing to the Council, but that he hoped Commander Adama would be more mindful of public opinion's sentiments in the future." "I believe Sire Antipas has stated the matter quite eloquently and that what he has to say about these and other matters in the future should be listened to quite carefully." Fleeing from the Cylon tyranny, the last battlestar Galactica, leads a ragtag fugitive fleet on a lonely quest. A shining planet...called Earth. March 23, 2004