Battlestar Galactica: Nature's Fury
Virtual Second Season, Episode 15
By Eric Paddon
Epaddon@aol.com
January 3, 2006

               Battlestar Galactica: Nature's Fury

                    From The Adama Journals


     At long last, the day draws near for when Apollo and Sheba will
finally be sealed to each other.  Preparations are nearly complete for a
ceremony to take place in the Great Hall, where once before I joined
Apollo and Serina.  I had wondered if Apollo would be reluctant to have a
ceremony in the same place, in almost the same kind of ceremony, but he
has assured me he has no concerns about the past intruding on his hopes
for happiness with Sheba.  The confidence with which he speaks this, is
more than enough to tell me that he's completely sincere.
     Seeing this wedding date approach offers what I hope will be a much
needed time of respite for all of us.  Not simply for Apollo and Sheba,
who have the memory of their experience aboard Iblis's ship from Hades
itself, but for Starbuck as well.  Starbuck's recent experience with that
Ziklagi shape-shifter, which resulted in the death of Cadet Jada, shows
signs of taking an inner toll on him that I've never seen happen in all
the yahrens I've known him.  Hopefully the festive period we'll all be
enjoying on the wedding day help to allleviate some of the stress that
seems to be impacting him, and will him help him put the horrific events
behind him.
     And of course for myself, I will confess privately that after my own
terrible ordeal in which I nearly saw a ghost from the past threaten to
leave me incarcerated for a termination I was innocent of, the happiness
of officiating at my son's sealing ceremony is more than what I would
regard to be adequate compensation.
     But of course, the larger question that remains when the ceremony is
over, is whether we will at last enter a period of much needed long-term
stability.  It depends on whether or not the Cylons will continue to
remain the increasingly distant memory they've become.  And whether the
Ziklagi will now be something that takes the Cylons place as an enemy to
harass us on a constant basis.  And of course, whether things in my
relations with the Council will remain stable as they've been since Sire
Antipas received his secret pardon for his secret pre-Destruction
transgressions.  Antipas has been a bit more docile of late, as though he
seemingly knows he hasn't much leverage to wage any kind of fight with. 
But even as Antipas becomes more quiet, I've been noticing that wicked
glint I always could see in his eye now appearing in Siress Lydia's.  The
way she worked on Antipas's behalf, and the idle gossip that makes its
way back to me, tells me enough about what kind of relationship they're
having now.  What that means for the long-term is equally impossible to
discern.  If Lydia's just interested in her own romantic pleasures, then
so much the better, because that means she's less likely to be interested
in the matter of who leads the Fleet or not.
     With this day of sealing now soon upon us, it leaves me to consider
the joyful irony of myself and Cain, united by ties of marriage and Lord
willing, through common grandchildren one day.  It represents in a sense,
the end of a journey that began so many yahrens ago when Ila and I
invited Cain to see a play in Caprica City that marked the first major
role for an old primary school classmate of Ila's named Bethany.  Cain
ended up becoming totally smitten with her after seeing her in the play,
and before you knew it, he had married her.  Even though Cain never said
it directly to me over the yahrens, he always had a silent way of letting
me know how much he gave Ila and me credit for bringing him and Bethany
together.  So in that sense, it almost represents a coming of
full-circle, to see my son marry the only child of that marriage Ila and
I were both indirectly responsible for.  Or better still, perhaps it
represents another strange and wonderful example of how the hand of the
Almighty works in shaping all of our lives.  And how He will continue to
do so in everything else that lies ahead for all of us.

                         Chapter One

     The discomfort Sheba had been going through had lasted for more than
several centons, and seemed like an eternity to her.  Through it all,
she'd kept stoic, but as it continued to drag on, she was finally
reaching her breaking point.  When she felt the pinching sensation in her
side increase again, the breaking point finally came.
     "How much fracking longer is this going to take?"
     The white-haired man who had been on his knees tightly wrapping a
measuring tape around Sheba's waist looked up indignantly, "Lieutenant,
surely you realize the care and effort that goes in to preparing a
sealing gown as exquisite as yours is!"
     "Then try treating me with care and effort," she snapped, "For the
last five centons you've been digging that thing in all corners of my
body and I'm getting fed up with it."
     "You want this to be perfect, don't you?" the white-haired fitter
got to his feet, "A white sealing gown made from only the finest valcron
produced in the Colonies requires a little discomfort in the fitting
process, so the wearing of it can be perfect!"
     "Yeah, yeah," Sheba muttered and rolled her eyes, deciding it was
pointless to argue the matter any longer.  She caught a glance of herself
in the mirror and wondered how it was that a thing of such great beauty
as the gown she was now wearing, could cause so much discomfort and
trouble.  She had first ordered it up according to specifications she'd
provided the fitter that had been misread, and resulted in a gown that
had been far too tight when she had tried it on after its delivery to her
aboard the Galactica.  Now, she had gone all the way to the merchant ship
Pathmain to see the fitter personally and make sure the mistake wouldn't
be repeated.  Little realizing that it would require subjecting to her
the eccentric fitter's full-scale "treatment" whenever he had a subject
in person to work on.
     Ten centons later, she was back in her uniform and walking out of
the fitter's kiosk into the main atrium of the Pathmain, where Athena
waited.
     "Well?" her soon-to-be sister-in-law asked.
     "It's set, but boy what a giant pain in the astrum that whole
process was," Sheba said with visible disgust as they began to walk
amongst the two dozen odd people lining the atrium.  "The more I stood
there feeling his wrinkled fingers tightening that damn tape around me
and then almost sticking one of his pins in me when he was taking some of
it in, the more I wondered why in Hades was I even bothering with this."
     "Getting one's sealing gown right is never a matter to be taken
lightly.  So they say," Athena said.
     "You want to know something?" Sheba looked at her, "If I had my
druthers I'd just wear my uniform.  And I don't mean my dress uniform, I
mean just a nice comfy battle suit like I've got on right now."
     "I don't think the universe is ready for brides in a flight jacket
and combat boots," Athena said dryly, "If you did that, you'd never hear
the end of it from all the so-called etiquette experts."
     "Serve them right if I ticked them off," Sheba sighed, the annoyance
she'd felt now fading.  "I've never been much of a fashion plate anyway. 
Oh, it's not that I don't like to let loose and wear something civilian
now and then, it's just that I don't see the need to make such a big deal
about all the so-called procedures about what's in-style and what isn't,
and what you do or don't do with a certain wardrobe.  Heck, everytime I
go out with Apollo to some dinner on the Rising Star, I break the rule
that says you have to keep your hair swept up when you wear a formal gown
because it never made any sense to me."
     "Warriors seldom are fashion-conscious," Athena noted.  "Anyway,
while you were suffering your torture at the hands of the fitter, I
checked back with the decorator and everything's set on that front.  He's
even come through on having some real Caprican hibernias furnished, which
I know you were anxious to see."
     "I always saw myself having an outdoor wedding when I was a little
girl," Sheba smiled as they kept walking through the atrium and past the
numerous kiosks set-up throughout the ship.  The Pathmain was the largest
single merchant ship in the entire Fleet, representing the place where
the middle and lower classes could find an outlet for spending some of
their earnings which never would have been sufficient for any of the
luxuries to be found on the Rising Star.  "Having some real flowers is
about the closest way I can recapture that old wish.  Thanks for helping
out on that."
     "Hey, what's a joint maid-of-honor to do?" Athena smiled,
"Cassiopeia's been too swamped the last few cycles, especially after what
Starbuck went through, so it was my turn to pick up the slack a bit and
make sure everything stayed on schedule.  And now that you've got the
matter of your sealing gown straightened out, I guess you can say
everything's set."
     "Just about," Sheba's smile faded, "There's one other thing."
     Athena knew what she meant, "Bojay?"
     "Yes," she sighed, and then came to a stop as she focused on a kiosk
just ahead, where a distinctive shaped orange awning stood out like a
beacon to them..
     "I don't believe it!" Sheba exclaimed, "There's actually a Joho's on
this ship?"
     Athena looked ahead and her eyes widened, "I never noticed that
before.  Must be new!"
     "Then let's check it out," Sheba said as they headed toward the open
kiosk.  When they arrived, they could see a dozen people eating at
tables, and a large handwritten sign proudly proclaiming: "Joho's
Restaurant!  As good as you remember it.  The World of 28 Flavors of
Mushies lives!"  Underneath the sign was a distinctive signature, "Joho."
     Sheba looked over and then saw a slightly elderly, pudgy man making
his way from table to table, as if he were asking each patron whether
they were enjoying their meal or not and if everything was fine.
     "Joho!" she called over and waved.
     The proprietor looked up and his eyes widened in amazement, as he
came over to them, "Sheba!" he exclaimed as he suddenly embraced her
warmly, "Little Sheba, is that you?  I haven't seen you in ages!"
     "I know.  It has to be five yahrens at least."   She motioned to
Athena, "Athena, I want you to meet Johannes, the man responsible for the
greatest restaurant empire in the Colonies."
     "Pleased to meet you," he shook hands with Athena.
     "My goodness," the dark-haired lieutenant was amazed, "I never knew
there really was an actual Joho!  And you know Sheba?"
     "Her mother was one of my dearest friends," he smiled, "My first
restaurant was right across the street from the Caprican National
Theater, and because she preferred to eat at my place rather than some
overpriced fancy establishment after a show, she gave me the publicity I
needed to expand.  I owe whatever success I've had in my life to this
young lady's mother!"
     "Come on Joho.  You wouldn't have had 500 successful restaurants
throughout the Colonies if you didn't do something right yourself.  Good
food at a good price, and that little orange roof to make everyone
realize the instant they saw one of them, they could count on something
good."
     "It was, I admit, an effective advertising tool." he said with as
much modesty as he could.  "In the meantime, I invite you to have your
lunch as my personal guest at the best table I can offer."
     "When did you open this place?" Athena asked as he led them to a
more private table at the back of the restaurant area.  "I've never seen
it before on the Pathmain."
     "Just a couple sectans ago.  I wanted the grand re-opening of the
great Joho franchise to be done just right, so that's why I took my time
getting set-up again after the Destruction."
     "Well, you've got the authentic sign and awaning, but what about the
food?" Sheba smirked, "Can it still be the world of 28 different mushies
even in these kinds of Fleet conditions?"
     "Ah, well there you have me," Johannes shrugged sheepishly, "The
slogan lives, but truth be told, only about 14 flavors are possible at
this time.  But one day, I hope for that to change since I do still have
all the great recipes for 28 flavors carefully preserved.  All I need is
a sufficient supply of the right ingredients."
     "Never mind the mushies," Athena asked eagerly, "What about the
plate of fried sea clams?  That's what always defined a great Joho meal
to me!"
     "I'm faring better with that.  The aquatic life section of the
Livestock Ship is giving me a great bargain on sea clams because
mercifully, there is no great demand for them on the Rising Star."
     "Those rich snobs could never appreciate a really good meal."  Sheba
said, "You knew how to give the middle-class and the lower-class people
who went to the theater a more affordable outlet.  That's why you were a
success, Joho.  My mother was just among those who understood what it was
you were trying to do when you opened your first restaurant.  It's great
to see you're back in business."
     "And I intend for the whole franchise to continue long after I'm
gone," Johannes said boldly.  "In the meantime, what shall it be?  Fried
sea clams for you, Athena?"
     "Of course!" her eager tone rose.
     "And you Sheba," he looked over and smiled, "If you're still the
same as you were in all the yahrens I saw you grow up in front of me, I
shouldn't have to ask."
     "No," Sheba nodded, "You shouldn't."
     "Consider it done," the proprietor beamed as he walked toward the
back area where the kitchen was located.
     "It's incredible," Sheba looked about in amazement, "It's like
having a piece of home to see Joho operating a restaurant again.  I
couldn't begin to count all the times I ate at his first restaurant when
I was growing up."
     "Did you even know he was alive?"
     "No," she shook her head and then realized what Athena was getting
at.  "You're right, I should invite him to the wedding if he can make it. 
He was kind of like extended family."
     Athena's expression then grew serious, "If that's the case, maybe
you could find a way of taking care of your one remaining problem.  As
far as the ceremony is concerned."
     "What do you mean?"
     "I'm thinking about your problem regarding...Bojay."  She chose her
words carefully, "Maybe Joho could..." she let the rest of her thought go
unfinished.
     Sheba abruptly shook her head, "No.  No, I don't want to consider
that.  If I can't get Bojay to reconsider, I might as well just forget
the whole thing and have no stand-in at all for my father."
     "The codes..."
     "Hell with them," Sheba cut her off.  "If there isn't an appropriate
stand-in, you shouldn't have to bother with one.  That's how I feel. 
Bojay is the only person I could feel comfortable with standing in for my
father.  He's always been a true brother to me."
     "But he always wished it could be more than that?"  
     "Oh yeah," Sheba sighed.  "Yeah, he did."
     Joho then returned and set down two full glasses, "It's not the old
Joho cooler, but I hope you'll find it just as refreshing.  Your meal
will be ready in a few centons."
     "Thanks!" Sheba said brightly, and then as soon as the proprietor
had walked away, she lowered her voice, "Truth be told, Joho coolers were
the one thing about the menu I never liked.  He always should have stuck
to the regular chain distributed beverages like Capsi."
     "I agree with you on that," Athena smirked and took a sip of her
beverage.  "If Bojay was always interested in you, then...well why did
nothing ever happen?"
     "Timing," she sipped her own drink, "When Bojay transferred from the
Galactica and joined the Pegasus, I was going through a really bad
period.  My father had gotten over my mother's death by starting his
relationship with Cassiopeia, and...well let's just say that I wasn't
happy about it.  I was...more concerned about trying to repair my
relationship with my father at the time, and because that meant so much
to me, I just had zero interest in romance.  Bojay was someone I could
bond with in a way where there was nothing romantic about it at all to
me."
     "But deep down, did you know that he wanted it to be more?"
     "Actually, in those first yahrens we knew each other, I didn't think
he wanted it to be that way.  He just never offered any kind of hint that
he wanted something more, and always seemed so comfortable and at ease in
our brother-sister type relationship.  He wasn't like some of the other
pilots I knew on the Pegasus who did have crushes on me, and didn't do a
good job of hiding it.  I guess...it was the sort of feeling he developed
over time.  The kind of feeling that came out of our working so closely
together over a period of several yahrens."
     "Something you never did."
     Sheba sighed, "After three yahrens, Bojay was so much like a brother
to me that the idea of having any other kind of relationship with him
would have almost felt...well you know."
     "Yeah," Athena admitted.  "I know what you mean.  I guess men have
an easier time overcoming that sensation with a woman then vice versa.. 
But for goodness sake, even if Bojay had those feelings, why should he be
so jealous and not do you a favor?  He certainly understands how you feel
about Apollo."
     "Bojay insisted he's not trying to be jealous or hurtful in turning
my offer down to be stand-in," Sheba sipped some more of her drink, "He
wishes me the best, and he wants to be at the wedding.  He only feels
that his pride dictates that he not take such a prominent role in the
ceremony.  Oh, that isn't how he put it, but I know that's what it comes
down to with him."
     Athena leaned back in her chair, "Sheba, if Bojay wants to be that
petty about the whole thing, then maybe you just have to ask yourself if
you're better off looking to someone else."
     "There isn't anyone else who can do this, unless my father were to
show up between now and the wedding," her tone was final, "So if Bojay
doesn't do it, then we rewrite the ceremony and eliminate the whole
business about a protector giving away the bride.  If that doesn't uphold
the fine print of the sealing codes, well then maybe the next Holy
Council meeting should think about having all that changed.  My wedding
is going to be done on my terms only."
     Athena decided she needed to change the subject to keep the
conversation pleasant, "Except when it comes to your wishing you could
wear combat dress to the wedding."
     Her remark had its intended effect and Sheba smiled, "Well put. 
Besides, if I decided to to do that at the last micron, you and
Cassiopeia and every other woman who's invited to the wedding and gotten
their own gowns ready for the occasion would want me flogged."
     "Metaphorically," her soon to be sister-in-law laughed.  
     Joho then returned, proudly carrying two plates.  "Fried sea clams,
made the Joho way," he said as he placed one before Athena, "And for you,
Sheba, the grilled wrapped red hot.  Just as you always ordered so many
times when you were little."
     Sheba smiled and picked it up.  The long tubular shaped meat tucked
inside a toasted roll made her close her eyes and think back to so many
nights in her childhood when her mother would take her to the Joho's
across from the Caprican National Theater after finishing a performance. 
Her eyes were still closed when she bit into it...and in an instant she
found the happy illusion of the past dissipating.  No matter how much
Joho tried, she had to admit that he was never in these limited
conditions of the Fleet, going to be able to perfectly reproduce the
taste of a quintessential Joho Red Hot.
     "Well?" the proprietor asked anxiously.
     Sheba managed to keep smiling as she swallowed, "Joho, you're to be
commended for what you've done," she said.  
     "A little taste of the past is what I try to bring those who come
here," he said proudly as he walked away to wait on several new
customers.
     "The taste is where he came up short," Sheba sighed as soon as he
was out of earshot.  "Did he get the clams right at least?"
     Athena took a few munches of the heavily breaded seafood and nodded,
"Yes, he did.  They're perfect.  I think the key though is the frying
process, and not the sea clams themself."
     "Probably right.  His recipe in the breading is where most of the
taste would come from." she decided to keep eating to avoid hurting the
proprietor's feelings.  "Anyway, when Bojay gets back from deep patrol, I
hope I can make one last attempt to change his mind.  If he'd just say
yes, then I know this is going to be the most perfect wedding I could ask
for."
     "And if he doesn't, then just be glad you've still got Apollo
anyway." Athena smiled.  "That's all that really counts, doesn't it?"
     Sheba nodded warmly, "Quite true."


     Unbeknownst to Sheba though, Bojay was already back from his deep
patrol assignment, much sooner than he'd planned.  And the reason for
that, now found him in Adama's office excitedly explaining to the
Commander what he'd found.
     "You can see for yourself on the telemetry tapes," Silver Spar
leader said.  "This planet in Tau sector nine has more natural resources
to meet our needs for who knows how many yahrens if we mine them just
right."
     Adama kept his hand on his chin as he went over the data on his
monitor.  "Atmosphere check perfect.  High concentrations of livestock,
edible vegetation and deposits of tylium and solium in adjacent areas."
he shook his head, "At this rate, Bojay, this almost sounds like a planet
some people would say we should settle the Fleet on!"
     "Well, they'd reconsider that once they see all of the telemetry
data," Bojay said, "You see all of these resources that would be helpful
to us are concentrated in exactly one section of the planet.  The
north-central hemisphere encompassing a region no bigger than
nine-hundred kilometrones.  The rest of the planet is...well you can see
for yourself."
     Adama squinted as he took a closer look at the screen.  He saw a
planet in which angry, swirling clouds of white seemed to rotate in a
counter-clockwise fashion over nearly the entire surface.  Save for the
one area of untouched greenery he'd just been focused on a micron before.
     "Good Lord," he said, "There must be storm systems covering the rest
of the planet."
     "Some of the most intense gale-force storms you could ever come up
against.  Readings indicate a magnitude of force nine on our known scales
for just about all of them."
     "All with the potential for near catastrophic damage," he nodded,
"Definitely not a place to settle our people, no matter what some naive
opportunist might think.  But given those conditions, would it be safe to
try and harness any of the resources in the unaffected area?"
     "Well Commander, the readings I take indicate that this area is so
fertile and prosperous, then that can only mean that it hasn't been
afflicted by any of these turbulent weather patterns over the rest of the
planet.  That means, we should send in as many of our storage tankers and
supply shuttles as we possibly can and pick this planet clean of what we
need.  It's an opportunity we just can't pass up!"
     "It certainly is an interesting...opportunity that's been presented
us," Adama refused to let himself get carried away at this point.  That
had never been his nature, and he wasn't about to change now. 
"Still...if something were to go wrong, the results could be dangerous
for anyone caught on the ground.  Those weather patterns are more ominous
looking than any others I've ever seen."    He looked back at Bojay,
"Since your deep patrol scouted this planet, you would be the obvious
pick to command an expeditonary team.  Would you feel up to that
challenge?"
     "With pleasure, sir," Bojay said proudly.
     "Very well.  You'll command a team of scientific specialists,
augmented by several members from Colonial Security.  Full scientific
sweep, reading of samples and field analysis. If the results are as
promising as your viper patrol scan indicates, then I want cargo ships
ready to move in the instant your team gets back."
     "I'll make sure we're fast, but thorough," Silver Spar leader was
feeling an intense wave of satisfaction that Adama was instinctively
picking him for this mission, and not passing it off to someone like
Apollo or Boomer instead.  He had always wondered if Adama sometimes had
a tendency to play favorites among the warriors, but this was certainly
enough to dispel that thought for all time.  "By your leave, sir?"
     "Dismissed."
     Bojay briskly saluted and left.  Leaving Adama to look back at the
data and wonder if there was cause to really feel optimistic about things
in general for the first time in a long while.


     Bojay wasted little time heading for the Operations Center that
would give him access to the Galactica's Central Computer system, and
program the necessary selections for his expeditionary team.  When he
arrived, he found an empty room of computer banks with Corporal Komma of
Colonial Security standing vigil.  It was Komma's job to process all
those who wanted access to the sensitive computer systems, where anyone
could learn anything about any person in the Fleet.
     "Morning, Captain," Komma said pleasantly, "Just place your hand on
the scanner, and I can let you get to work."
     "Thanks," Bojay said, feeling too keyed up to make some kind of
witticism about how silly the whole handprint screening process was.  He
made his way over to one of the computer tables and picked up the
microphone that would allow him to talk to the central process unit,
known by the acronym CAP, which stood for Computer Analysis of Personnel.
     "CAP, this is Captain Bojay of Silver Spar Squadron, beginning
procedure for selection of expeditionary team for planet survey."
     "Logged in, Captain," a soft feminine voice replied that Bojay had
to admit, always sounded intriguing, but which he'd heard Komma complain
about endlessly in the past as something that could drive a person crazy. 
He always wondered if a live person had done the prototype for this
voice, or whether it had been totally constructed by computer, but never
felt he'd have the nerve to find out what the correct answer really was.
     "Planet expedition to consist of four members of Colonial Security;
one med-tech; two agro-specialists, one each in plant and livestock
fields; one mineral specialist; one mining  engineer."
     "Scanning Fleet personnel records to correlate appropriate
selections for mission."
     Komma looked over in amused interest from his duty station. 
"There's actually a bona-fide planet survey mission for Colonial Security
men?  Boy, talk about a throwback to the old days!"
     "Never had your fill of many back then, Komma?" Bojay leaned back as
he waited for CAP to do her work and print out the results.
     "Not a one," the guard shook his head.  "Join Colonial Security and
see the universe, they used to say.  Colonial Security guards are needed
to conduct planetary surveys while warriors do the flying.  Well, I never
got to take my first survey before the Destruction, so that means I've
spent my whole career as a duty-bound paper pusher.  Not that I mind it."
     "I guess you don't.  You could have joined Elite Squadron like
Castor did."
     "Castor is more inclined to do those kinds of things.  That's why he
now heads our division," Komma smiled.  "It hasn't been without interest
to do this kind of work, though.  I didn't mind doing the leg work that
helped bring down that fugitive Dravius a while back and got all those
stolen Libran artifacts recovered."
     "I heard about that.  Must have been an interesting case."
     "Yeah," Komma didn't mention that there had been one frustrating
thing about the whole thing.  After word had come down of Dravius's
death, he'd been told by his superior, Castor, that full information on
how the entire incident had resolved itself, would not be possible, and
that he couldn't ask any more questions about it.  It had especially
struck Komma as odd that full pardon had been given by Adama to one of
the other men involved in the theft, Anglin.  But then again, he knew
Adama had to have his reasons for keeping certain matters secret.  As
official recorder during a secret tribunal several sectars ago, he was
one of only four people in the rest of the Fleet who knew the ultimate
fate of Baltar's wife, and he'd been sworn to secrecy regarding that for
reasons that he intended to respect for the rest of his life if he had
to.  He might wonder about certain things he didn't know at times, and
even be a bit frustrated by them, but one thing he was never going to do
was let his curiosity get the better of him in matters that didn't
concern him.
     "Team now selected for expeditionary mission, based on
qualifications listed in Fleet data base.  Results being printed now."
     Bojay turned back to the terminal and saw the names come up on the
screen.  He squinted slightly and then leaned forward to read the names
more carefully, and then he reached down to the tray to retrieve the
paper printout.
     "Komma," he looked over and said slyly, "Today's your lucky day."
     The Security Guard's eyes narrowed in disbelief.  "Holy Frack," was
all he could say.


     After leaving the stunned Komma to collect his thoughts, Bojay
pocketed the sheet listing the other members of the team in his jacket
pocket, and headed to the Life Station, where he'd be telling Med-Tech
Nestor that he'd been selected for the team.  As he neared the
turbo-lift, he saw the doors open and Apollo step off.  Immediately, he
winced inside since Apollo was one of two people he didn't want to talk
to right now.
     "Hey, Bojay," Apollo was mildly surprised to see him, but clearly
glad as well, "You got a micron?"
     He realized that there was no way he could avoid talking to Apollo,
so long as the captain stood between him and the turbo lift.  He decided
he'd indulge him.  Briefly.
     "Sure," Bojay said, "But not too long.  Have you seen the
commander?"
     "Yes, I just came from there, and he told me you'd be heading this
up," Apollo said.  "Since this is going to take up all of your time over
the next few cycles at least, then this is probably the only chance I'll
get to ask you this, so..."
     "Apollo," Silver Spar Leader cut him off, "Don't.  I know what
you're going to ask, and I know you mean well, and I know Sheba means
well, but I really can't accept.  Please understand."
     "Actually, I don't understand," Apollo fudged the truth.  Sheba had
told him the real reason, but he wasn't going to let on about that,
because it was the kind of reason that struck Apollo as petty in the
extreme and hurtful to Sheba, "Sheba regards you as a brother.  There
isn't anyone else in this Fleet she has that kind of love for, and that
makes you the only man who can honorably stand-in for her father.  And
all it requires of you is to say one sentence in response to a question
from Adama as he presides, and nothing more.  Why can't you be willing to
give just that much of yourself for someone who means that much to you?"
     "Apollo, you're out of line," Bojay kept his tone quiet.  The last
thing he needed was to feel angry at an important time like this.  "I
have my reasons, and they're personal.  I'm going to be at the wedding,
so don't treat it like such a big deal."
     "I have to when Sheba doesn't have anyone else she can ask to do
this," Apollo held his ground, "Your not doing this can really end up
making her feel bad.  Is that what you want to do, after all the yahrens
you've known each other?"
     "Why should it matter, Apollo?  You've won, isn't that all that
counts?"  
     The words had come rapidly from Bojay without any chance for him to
think about what he was saying.  Abruptly, he looked down at the floor in
embarrassment, while Apollo said nothing.
     "I'm sorry," Bojay said quietly, "That was terrible of me.  Apollo,
look...I'm happy for the both of you.  Don't ever think I don't feel that
way, it's just..." he forced himself to look at the captain.  "Apollo,
it's one thing for me to be at her wedding and clap for her with everyone
else.  But to stand front and center and say the words that represent
giving her away so she can be formally presented for a marriage
contract...I'm sorry.  That's too much for me to handle.  I'm not going
to be a problem in how I act after you're married.  I would never think
of doing that.  But...Apollo, this is just a matter of pride and ego, and
maybe it's foolish pride and foolish ego, but...it'd really be better if
we just let it go.  Okay?"
     Apollo looked at him with a neutral expression, "If I let it go, it
doesn't change the fact that it's a disappointment that you feel that
way, Bojay," he said, "But...I'll agree to not let there be any lasting
repercussions about it."
     "That's fair enough," Bojay said, "Look...I really have some
important work to do."
     "I know," Apollo extended his hand, "Good luck with the mission."
     With just the slightest hesitation, Bojay reciprocated the
traditional warrior's handshake.  And then, with both of them feeling
regret and disappointment, they parted company by moving off in opposite
directions.  

                    Chapter Two

     "You're all here, because the computer says you're the most
qualified and capable group for handling this survey mission," Bojay said
as he paced back and forth in front of his seated audience in the Flight
Operations Center.  "Never mind if some of you haven't done this sort of
thing in a long while or never at all.  It's ultimately a simple case of
putting your skills that you've all been trained for to good use.  And
one of those features means being able to respond and react to conditions
from an alien environment and make a quick compatability check with what
we're used to.  That's ultimately what's at stake on this mission,
because if we can find quick compatibility matches for the resources that
are indicated on this planet, we may end up solving all of the Fleet's
potential shortage troubles in food and fuel for yahrens to come.  Now
that I've gotten that preliminary stuff out of the way, does anyone have
any questions?"
     He saw none from the seven men and two women in the group that had
assembled.  To one side, the four Colonial Security guards, consisting of
Komma, Sergeant Lepus, Sergeant Thomson and Corporal Jacob.  In the
middle, med-tech Nestor was flanked to his left by the mining expert,
Clement and the red-haired mineralologist, Demos.  On the opposite side
were the two women, both of whom he noted were the designated
agro-specialists.  The striking brunette, Gayla, and the even more
striking red-haired woman named Pili.
     "Okay, your data pads all have the telemetry from my viper patrol on
what this planet has.  Review them thoroughly during the flight there. 
All of you are to assemble in Alpha Deck with full gear in no more than
fifteen centons from now.  Dismissed."
     They rose and began to file their way out.  Bojay noticed that
Corporal Komma was among those slow to leave, as if he were still
seemingly lost in a sea of disbelief.  Also lingering was the red-haired
woman Pili, who seemed a bit overwhelmed by her surroundings.
     "Can I help you with anything?" Bojay asked as he came up to her.
     She hesitated for an instant, "No!  I...sor-ry, I...not used to this
ship."   her words were tentative and halting, as if Colonial Standard
weren't her native tounge.
     "Oh, first time aboard the Galactica?" Silver Spar Leader said
disarmingly, "Don't worry.  If you're used to the Agro and Livestock
ships, it's easy to adjust here after a bit.  Of course, there won't be
much time for that since we do need to assemble in the Launch Bay.  You
know where to get your equipment?"
     "E-quip-ment.  Yes.  Yes, I know.  Might need help in using it."
     Bojay's curiosity deepened, "Pardon me for asking a personal
question, but where do you come from?"
     "Come from," she repeated and then smiled, "Oh yes!  I come...not
from Colonies but from planet Ki.  I came aboard with my...husband,
Kudur-Mabug.  We work together on Livestock Ship now...after train-ing
first on Agro-Ship."
     Silver Spar Leader's eyes narrowed, "Wait a micron.  You're the one
that Boomer brought aboard?"
     "Yes!" she smiled brightly, "Boom-er!  Very good friend of mine and
Kudur-Mabug.  He and Athena...helped teach us Colonial language.  I...not
speak perfect, but...understand all.  Easier to...under-stand, than
speak!"
     "Of course," Bojay nodded, wondering if this was going to present a
problem.  The last thing he ever would have expected the computer to do
was pick someone who up to a few sectars ago was living the life of a
primitive cave dweller on a planet filled with all kinds of strange
animal life.  True, she obviously had greater familiarity with what would
be considered an alien kind of topography to most Colonials, and a
greater instinct for how to adapt plant and animal life for daily use
than civilized Colonials might, but still.  And even more puzzling was
why the computer would only have picked her, and not her husband, of whom
he'd heard Boomer describe as a formidable hunter.
     "Look," Bojay said, "You'd better get going.  Just remember to be in
the Launch Bay in fifteen centons."
     "Yes," she nodded and smiled brightly, "I...under-stand!  I look
forward to doing great work!"
     And then, she gave an awkward version of a salute and then left the
room.  Bojay rolled his eyes in amazement and then hurriedly went over to
the telecom unit on the wall, where he patched in the access number to
the Agro Ship.  "Hello, this is Captain Bojay of Silver Spar Squadron. 
Urgent that I speak to Operations Chief Carmichael, immediately."
     He waited a half centon before he heard Carmichael's voice come on,
"Yes, Captain?"
     "Carmichael, I need you to tell me what you know about an agro and
livestock tech worker named Pili."
     "Ah yes," Carmichael said dryly, "The Livestock Ship ops chief
telecommed me a centar ago about that, because he couldn't believe it
either.  But in spite of our mutual disbelief on that subject, Captain,
you're getting a very bright and capable worker who more than makes up
for her deficiencies in speaking coherently with a pretty sharp instinct
for inventorying and cataloging plant and animal life species."
     "Really?"
     "Yes.  I mean, when she and her...I guess you could call him her
husband, Kudur-Mabug, came to us, I had her working in pharmacology
because she knew how to adapt the native plant life of Ki to medicinal
purposes.  She ended up finishing that inventory completely last sectar,
and she and her husband had by then mastered all of the Colonial language
to get by, so I felt it was safe to transfer them both to the Livestock
ship.  They've been giving our research specialists there some insight
into the adaptability of alien animal species to the human diet based on
their own experiences on Ki, and the differences in their livestock from
our own."
     "I see," Bojay nodded.  "That explains why the computer picked her
as a livestock specialist for this.  All of us know instinctively what
kind of animals are fit for human consumption, but her perspective as a
native of Ki could make us pick up on something we might otherwise miss
at first glance if she sees something that we might not think is edible,
but which her people did."
     "Which could mean the difference in a lot more available food for
our people," Carmichael added.  "Just...try to ignore her problems
speaking Colonial Standard.  She understands everything perfect and isn't
a problem there.  She's certainly more advanced in that area than her
husband, who's a bit more reluctant to embrace all aspects of being
Colonial."
     "Which explains why the computer left him behind, no doubt.  Well, I
guess if you're willing to give her a vote of confidence on this, I
shouldn't let her presence worry me.  Thanks, Carmichael."
     "One other thing," the Operations Chief noted dryly, "You've also
noticed how beautiful she is, I take."
     "Hard not to notice.  But I'll make sure the men in my team get the
clear message that she's married."
     "And mention that her husband spent most of his life ripping the
limbs off defenseless animals before he came to us," he added with a
chuckle.  "That'll stop them."
     "Will do," Bojay felt relaxed now as he hung up, and then shook his
head in amusement before heading off to pick up his Equipment for the
mission.


     Bojay arrived fifteen centons later in Alpha Bay where a shuttle
waited.  He stepped aboard and saw that the members of the team were all
strapped in with their equipment packs at their feet.  Sergeant Lepus, as
the senior Security Guard, and one who was shuttle flight-trained,
occupied the co-pilot seat.
     "All secure and ready to go, sir," Lepus said.
     "Thank you, Sergeant," Bojay said as he settled himself in the
pilot's seat and then activated the switch that closed the door.  After
fastening his harness, he then donned his headset and keyed in the
channel to the Bridge.  "Galactica Core Control, this is Alpha shuttle. 
Request clearance to launch."
     "Alpha shuttle from Core Command, you are clear to launch," Rigel's
voice answered in his headset.
     Does she ever cut loose and have a good time?  Bojay idly wondered. 
That professional efficient voice of Rigel was the only thing about the
attractive bridge officer that he knew anything about.  "Affirmative,
Core Commad.  We are on our way."
     And then he powered up the systems and the shuttle roared to life,
exiting the landing bay and beginning its journey to the nearby planet.


     On the Bridge, Rigel watched the indicator lights go green, whic
meant that the shuttle had safely cleared the Galactica and was on its
way.  With no other launch traffic to deal with, she removed her headset
and went back to monitoring the level of communications traffic among the
ships in the Fleet.  
     She felt a lock of her nearly waist-length brown hair get in her eye
and she reached over to brush it aside.  As she did, the corner of her
eye suddenly noticed Omega, seated not too far away hastily turning his
head away as if he'd been watching her when he'd thought she wasn't
looking in his direction.  She could immediately see his face flushing
the tiniest shade of red.
     Omega, Rigel thought wistfully.  If you want to ask me out again,
ask.  The answer's always going to be yes.  But it had been more than
four sectars since her fellow Bridge Officer had last summoned the nerve
to ask her out, and ever since, it seemed like Omega's innate shyness had
kicked in more than ever.  Forming an almost impenetrable barrier between
them.
     Rigel knew that some women would have suggested she start playing a
more aggressive role if she were genuinely interested in Omega, and he
was too shy to make the next move.  But that was one course of action she
felt she had to avoid for now.  Not because she thought that was the way
things had to be done, with the male always making the first move, but
rather, a belief that for someone like Omega, who was so painfully
insecure about taking a bold step, getting aggressive with him in a
sudden way might be a little too much for him to take.  Perhaps to the
point where her being aggressive might serve to make him only more
intimidated and withdrawn.
     Besides, she also felt that if Omega was the special kind of man she
felt he was, someone she really wanted to get to know better, then the
best way he could demonstrate that would be to overcome his own feelings
of inadequacy and insecurity, and find the courage to come over and ask.
     You've got to make the move, Omega, she thought as she went back to
her work without looking in his direction, and wondering if he was trying
to sneak a look at her again.  I'll be patient with you for now, and wait
for as long as I can to give you a chance.  But it won't be forever. 
Just realize that.


     "About how long on the ETA to the planet?" Sergeant Lepus inquired
as Bojay engaged the automatic heading.
     "Well, allowing for how much the Fleet has narrowed the distance
since I scanned her on deep patrol, give it about fifty centons."
     "Sure sounds strange to me," the Security Guard shook his head, "A
planet with just one tiny spot that's flourishing while the rest is
affected by crazy weather.  What could cause something like that?"
     "Who knows?" the captain shrugged.  "I'm pretty much past the point
where I think there has to be a logical way for how things are on all the
planets in the universe.  When you've got an infinite number to pick
from, you're bound to sooner or later come up with one like this appears
to be."
     "I guess so," Lepus admitted, "And to think here we are, trying to
just find one particular planet amongst that infinite number."
     "Yeah," Bojay nodded, as he pondered the magnitude of the sergeant's
remark, and suddenly it made him feel almost overwhelmed.
     "Captain?" Lepus asked, "Truthfully, do you think any of us who are
alive today, I mean our generation, will live to see Earth?"
     "If any of us knew the anser to that, Lepus, we'd all be able to
sleep a lot easier at night.  I honestly don't know, one way or the
other.  And I really try not to think about it much."
     "I hate to say it, but it's on my mind a lot," he looked ahead at
the starry expanse, "I had some ancestors who made pretty big names for
themselves on Taurus.  I always hoped that after my hitch in the Service
was up, I'd be able to strike it out on my own and live up to their
accomplishments.  And then the Destruction happened, and next thing I
knew my hitch had become permanent.  And I keep wondering if that's going
to be my cursed fate in life, to just die in space before a
multi-generation journey ever comes to an end."
     Bojay glanced over at him, "No one forces you to stay in the
Service, Lepus.  If you want to do something else in life, you're free to
do that."
     "Pretty limited bunch of choices, and none of them the kind I was
planning to do," the sergeant grunted, "That's why I keep staying on.  At
least being in the Service provides some...stability for now."  He shook
his head again, "But it's not the life I'd planned for."
     "That's true of all of us, Sergeant," Bojay said, wishing Lepus
would get off this subject soon before he had to politely ask the
sergeant to change the subject, "All of us have regrets in life, but we
just...move on."
     Yeah, how true that is, the captain thought to himself.  And Apollo
just had to remind me again about what my biggest regret in life is
always going to be.  And it's going to haunt me forever because I can't
think of any other woman I'd ever want to have loved.
     Sheba, he thought sadly, Sheba, why didn't you give me a chance to
tell you how much I've always loved you?
     He glanced over at Lepus and saw that the sergeant was still staring
ahead, clearly lost in his own thoughts.  Which only meant that Bojay
could lean back in his chair and think back to a time three yahrens ago,
when he'd arrived as a new transfer from the Galactica  to the Pegasus... 



     ...The first thing Lieutenant Bojay noticed when he stepped off the
shuttle was how he could tell immediately that the Pegasus was a much
older ship than the Galactica.  The Pegasus landing bay had a much more
scarred, battleworn quality in contrast to the ordered cleanliness of the
Galactica's.  Even the ships, whether shuttles or vipers, seemed to have
a more weatherbeaten look to them, as if they were used to going through
the rigors of constant combat.
     What could you expect though from a ship run by Cain?  He thought. 
Cain's known for enjoying this sort of thing.  The battleworn look for
his ship suits his reputation just fine.
     "Lieutenant Bojay?"
     He looked over and saw a tall, brown-haired man in a blue Bridge
Uniform approaching him.
     "Sir."
     "Colonel Tolen, Executive Officer.  Welcome aboard the Pegasus."
     Bojay hadn't realized the man was that important.  There was nothing
in Tolen's bearing or walk to suggest his position.  He dropped his pack
and hastily saluted.  "Yes sir!  Sorry, sir."
     "At ease," Tolen said, "I'll escort you to Commander Cain's
quarters.  Follow me, please."
     The fact that the executive officer would use the term 'please' to a
subordinate told Bojay a lot.  Tolen was clearly not the kind of
executive officer with great ambitions of command, or else he'd be
emulating Cain's style.  If his hunch was right, Tolen was the kind of
quiet deferential second-in-command, whose function was to carry out
orders and not offer any challenges to his commander at any time.
     He followed the executive officer to the turbo lift.  They went up
several levels and stepped out into the corridor, passing other warriors
along the way.  From time to time, he spotted some wearing pilot's
insignias and made a mental note to remember their faces for later.  But
for now, his chief thoughts were about meeting Cain for the first time. 
And whether he'd be able to maintain an even composure in the presence of
a man regarded as a Living Legend, or whether he'd find himself
intimidated completely.
     Dear Lord, don't let that happen, he thought.  If Cain comes away
unimpressed by me, he'll send me on the next shuttle back to the
Galactica, which is the last thing I want!
     Finally, Tolen came to a stop in front of a door and sounded the
chime.  From inside, a deep voice said, "Enter."
     The door slid open and Tolen stepped in first.  The room was not too
well-lit, as though the main lights had been kept off, and the only light
coming from the stars outside the porthole at the back.
     "The new transfer from the Galactica has arrived, sir.  Lieutenant
Bojay."
     "Thank you, Tolen.  I'll attend to him.  Dismissed."
     The executive officer nodded and left the room, leaving Bojay alone
in the shadows, unable to see where the great voice was coming from. 
Finally, he saw a shadow move at the back of the room, and then could see
him, but only in silhouette, his face still hidden.
     "So, Lieutenant," the voice of the man known as the Juggernaut said
casually, "Is the Pegasus what you expected her to be like?"
     "Well, truthfully sir, I haven't seen much since my arrival, but I
haven't been surprised so far."  Bojay felt relieved that his voice
hadn't cracked from the nervous tension inside, but he could still feel
his feet shaking inside his boots and he prayed that the Commander
wouldn't look down and notice.
     "You've done your share of reading about what we've gone through,
haven't you?"
     "Yes sir."
     "Well, if you have, then you should manage fine.  The press is known
to exaggerate about a lot of things, Lieuteanant, but when it comes to me
and what this grand old dame has done, it's always the absolute truth no
matter how fantastic it sounds."
     He now stepped out of the shadow so Bojay could see his face.  The
firm iron jaw was softened by a friendly smile.  Immediately, Bojay was
impressed by how Cain, unlike Adama, preferred to wear a warrior's
uniform instead of the formal blue command uniform.  To Bojay, that was a
sign of how Cain was able to identify with the fighting men in his
command.
     "Tell me something, Lieutenant," Cain said, "Why did you put in for
a transfer from the Galactica?"
     Bojay stiffened slightly.  He hadn't expected this kind of question,
and it was one he'd been hoping wouldn't come up.
     "Sir, I really don't think I should-----,"
     "Ah, ah," the Juggernaut held up a hand, "No beating around the
bush, Lieutenant.  One thing I always insist on is a simple cutting
through of all the felgercarb, and getting to the heart of the matter. 
You asked for a transfer off a ship commanded by a man I regard as a
close and dear friend, whose tactics and style may be different from
mine, but who I know always treats his warriors well.  Why did you want
to leave that and come here?"
     Bojay uneasily sighed, "Well sir, it's no reflection on Commander
Adama.  I think his record speaks for itself and anyone who serves under
him should feel privileged to do so."
     "Then what wasn't making it a privilege for you, Lieutenant?"  Cain
sat on the edge of his desk, his arms folded, and his swagger stick
protruding across his knee.  "It isn't often that a pilot transfers off a
ship, unless he's been given a high promotion, which isn't so in your
case."
     Bojay summoned all his internal strength, "It was incompatibility,
sir." he said rapidly and strongly.
     The Juggernaut glanced at him with curiosity, "Incompatability?"
     "Yes sir, you see, it's not that I didn't get along with the men I
served with in my squadron, it's just that...well I always felt kind of
frozen out by them.  Not a part of their...clique if you will.  I
just...kind of felt that my personality didn't blend well ultimately with
theirs."
     "Well how would you define your personality, Lieutenant?" Cain
quietly but forcefully demanded.  "If I were asking you to define
yourself, how would you do it?"
     The nervous tension was fast coming back to Bojay, "Well sir,
I...would say I tend to be a bit more quiet.  I...wasn't much for small
talk or Pyramid games with my squadron, and...I tended not to appreciate
the practical jokes that would get pulled."
     "In other words, you see yourself as the kind of person who would
rather spend off-duty hours in your bunk reading, is that it?"
     "Well, maybe not reading, but...I do tend to be a bit more solitaire
when it comes to those things.  Like I say, it's not that I have a
problem with how they did things, it's just that... I figured my
personality would be better suited for this ship."
     "What gave you that idea, Lieutenant?" Cain dropped the tone of his
voice a bit more, but it served to have a more devastating effect.
     "Well..." Bojay found himself fishing for words, and could also feel
the sweat breaking out all over him, "I thought...that since the Pegasus
tends to be more active in the major front-line missions, that there'd be
less room for that kind of...well, attitude that's more at home on a
place like the Galactica."
     Cain slowly nodded his head, a faint smile etching the corner of his
lips.  For just an instant, Bojay began to relax, but suddenly the
Juggernaut drew to within a foot of the lieutenant, and spoke in a cold
whisper.
     "Get this straight, Lieutenant," he said, "If you're the kind of
person who gets his kicks out of spending quiet time only away from the
job by yourself, then you should have become an archivist spending lonely
centars in an empty room.  If you want to *really* be a damned good
warrior, and measure up to the standards I insist on for all the warriors
in my command, then you are going to turn over a new leaf and not let me
down the way you let my friend Adama down.  That means you're going to
change your ways, Lieutenant.  You're going to mix it up with the members
of your squadron and enjoy their company.  You're going to spend as much
time as you can with them, and if it means being a victim of an
occasional practical joke, well so be it.  If you show you're willing to
do all of that, then it tells everyone else that you regard yourself as
part of the team, and that is what a unit of great pilots is,
Lieuteanant, a team that knows the meaning of how to work together and do
what's expected of them in a difficult situation, which believe me you're
going to find yourself thrust into more times than you could ever have
imagined.  And if you don't show me within the next sectar that you're
getting with the program, then I'm not going to hesitate to have your
astrum transferred out of here with a recommendation that you be removed
from active flight duty.  Have I made myself, clear?"
     "Yes, sir!" Bojay was rigidly attention.  "Pefectly clear, sir!"
     "Good," Cain smiled and backed away, "You've now had the fear of God
put into you, Lieutenant.  You know what I'm capable of doing.  But if
you follow through and make me proud of you, then you'll get a chance to
see the other side of me that makes all the warriors who do get with the
program want to stay on the Pegasus for the rest of their careers." he
paused and then added pointedly, "I'm counting on you, Lieutenant.  Your
cold fish personality aside, your record regarding your pilot skills
speaks for itself, and that means you've got an easier task ahead of you
as far as living up to your full potential goes."
     "I won't let you down, sir," Bojay vowed, determined to obey the
Commander's every word.  The prospect of losing his career as a pilot was
something he couldn't have begun to contemplate.
     The Juggernaut's smile widened just a bit, "I have a feeling you
won't, Lieutenant," he then added softly, "Dismissed."
     Bojay saluted, picked up his bag and made an orderly retreat from
Cain's quarters.  As soon as he heard the door close, he collapsed
against the wall and let out a huge sigh of relief.
     "He gave you the full treatment, didn't he?"
     Bojay looked over and his eyes widened as he saw an incredibly
beautiful woman in a pilot's uniform identical to his own standing across
from him.  She had the warmest smile of any woman he'd ever seen.
     "Uh...yeah," Bojay fished for words, not having expected to see a
woman pilot aboard the Pegasus.  There had been next to none in his
experience aboard the Galactica, and he'd been convinced he'd never see
any at all aboard the Pegasus.  "I guess so."
     "Well, if he gave you the lecture I think he did, then it's my job
to tell you that Silver Spar Squadron is ready to welcome you with open
arms, and then subject you to a little friendly...initiation if you
will."
     "Um...sure.  Sure, I don't mind.  Really.  Ah, what place do you
hold in the squadron?"
     "I command it," she said disarmingly.
     Bojay's eyes widened.  "You...command it?"
     "Surprised?" she smiled coyly.
     "Well...in a way.  I mean..."
     "Women pilots, I know," she sighed, "But believe me, Lieutenant,
everyone here is used to the idea.  So you can consider that your second
lesson of the day, after getting your first one from him." she cocked her
head toward the door that led to Cain's quarters.
     "And I've learned it," Bojay nodded, rapidly growing more and more
impressed with the young woman.  Not only was she beautiful, she had a
warrior's attitude no different from that of any other male pilot he'd
known.  That made for a definitely intriguing combination.
     Hold it, Bojay, he then cautioned himelf.  Don't start getting any
ideas.  She's probably already got half the squadron in love with her
already.  And besides, Cain wants you to mix it up from a camarderie
standpoint, and that obviously wasn't meant to include romance!
     "I'm Sheba," she extended her hand, "And you're...?"
     "Bojay," he said as they headed down the corridor in the direction
of the Pegasus Officers Club...


     ...As Bojay kept recalling that day from three yahrens ago, he
realized that a whole day had gone by before he'd found out that Sheba
was the Juggernaut's daughter.  And looking back, he knew there'd been a
reason for that, even though Sheba had never directly admitted it to him. 
She'd wanted to know if his first instincts toward her would be to treat
her as an equal among the warriors, or whether his first instinct would
be that of romantic interest.  Obviously, if he'd known that she was the
Commander's daughter, that would have scared him off in an instant, but
if he knew enough to avoid that right from the start, then she could feel
more secure with him, and work on integrating him into the rest of the
Squadron.
     Yes, I was playing it safe, Sheba, he thought, but I was in love
with you from the start just the same.  Over three yahrens, he'd
developed a very close friendship with Sheba, eventually becoming her
wingmate, and he'd always hoped that by developing a close kind of
brother-sister relationship, it would make her receptive to the idea of
carrying it further one day.  But events had interceded to make any
thought of romance impractical, especially once the Pegasus went through
the harrowing experience at the Battle of Molocay and ended up heading
out into deep space.  Those were conditions not favorable to would-be
romance at all, and so he had maintained his posture of showing no
outward signs of romantic desire for her.  Always keeping their
relationship one of easy camarderie like he enjoyed with the rest of the
pilots in Silver Spar Squadron, though not as close as he was with Sheba.
     After fate had conspired to separate Bojay and Sheba from the
Pegasus, and brought them back to the Galactica, he'd wondered if his
opportunity had finally come.  But initially, Sheba was in too much shock
from being parted from her father, and he realized again that he needed
to keep biding his time.  And so, he'd waited.
     Then, came that experience that had seen him and eight other pilots
disappear for a brief period that had culminated with the Fleet's
experience with a man called Count Iblis.  And after that incident had
resolved itself with Bojay and the other pilots returned to the Galactica
under circumstances he still couldn't comprehend or recall coherently,
he'd come back to discover a distinct change in Sheba.  Sheba was still
the same woman he'd enjoyed easy camarderie with, but he'd also noticed
that she'd begun to take a distinct interest in Apollo.  And soon, there
had come a time not long after when Apollo had successfully acted as
Starbuck's Protector and gotten him acquitted of a murder charge, when
Sheba had opened herself up to Bojay in the way a sister might be
expected to open up to a brother.
     "I'm in love with him, Bojay," she'd said, "And I know he cares a
lot for me, but is afraid to admit it.  I need to give him some time for
him to sort out whatever he's going through inside."
     The conversation had been like a dagger to Bojay's heart, though
he'd kept up the facade of fraternal support all throughout their talk. 
To hear that she was in love with someone else, especially Apollo, whom
he hadn't had a good rapport with during his first tour of duty aboard
the Galactica, had been almost too much for him to bear.  But what was he
going to do?  The last thing he could do was open up to Sheba and let her
know how he felt about her.  The fraternal side of Bojay could tell that
Sheba's feelings about Apollo were deep, and to try and dissuade her from
how she felt about Apollo would have likely come off as unseemly...and
could even have led Sheba to become angry with him and end their
friendship entirely.  If that had happened, he knew he would have hated
himself forever for destroying a relationship of brother-sister that
Sheba valued so much.
     No, he just had to face the simple truth that he'd blown it with
her.  That he'd lost his opportunity along the way to let her know how
deep his feelings for her were.  He had to resign himself to the fact
that she loved Apollo, and after the mission where Apollo and Starbuck
had infiltrated and destroyed the Cylon baseship, Apollo had come back a
changed man ready to admit that he did love Sheba.  Thus had begun the
relationship that had now led to their imminent sealing.  As a brother,
he was happy for Sheba and was ready to applaud her in her happiness with
the man she loved.  But as someone who wished that he'd been the one to
receive her love, it was too much for him to think of standing in front
of Adama and hearing him ask the question that ordinarily would have been
asked to Cain if the Juggernaut had been present:
     "Will Sheba's  protector-designate, consent to relinquishing his
responsibilities to Apollo, the man she has consented to marry?"
     And too much for him to have the responsibility of saying in
response, "I do consent."   His emotional system wouldn't be able to
handle that, and he knew it.  Ultimately, he knew his reasons were as
selfish as Apollo had said they were, but ultimately, Bojay knew that he
had to look like a heel and say no to the offer, or else his foolish
pride could end up disrupting the wedding in a way that would make Sheba
hate him for the rest of her life.  Because all he could see himself
doing in the situation of being a Protector-Designate and being asked
that question, was cracking from the emotional weight of it all, and
publicly making a spectacle of himself.
     Forgive me, Sheba, he thought.  Please forgive, me.  I wish so much
I had the strength to do it, but I just don't.  I still love you that
much.
     "ETA in ten centons, Captain," Sergeant Lepus's voice snapped him
back to reality.  "I think we'd better begin landing preparations and go
through the disembarking drill with the rest of them."
     "Yes," Bojay nodded.  He rose from his seat and faced the rest of
the landing party, all of whom were either catching a last bit of rest or
engaged in idle chatter with each other.  He was ready now to speak with
authority as their commander, and focus only on the job at hand from now
on.  And it was a job that he was determined to succeed at.

                    Chapter Three

     After finishing his final briefing to the team, Bojay returned to
the shuttle's pilot seat and disengaged the automatic heading.  The
planet lay before them, a round mass of swirling white clouds covering
the entire face of the planet, save for the nine hundred kilometrone wide
expanse in the north-central hemisphere which was a seemingly perfect
mixture of green, brown and blue, and bounded on each side by a clear
expanse of blue sea that only stretched for a short distance before the
swirling white clouds took hold again.
     Sergeant Lepus seemed taken aback by the sight, "I wouldn't even
want to guess what it would be like to be trapped in one of those storm
patterns."
     "Fortunately you don't have to dwell on it, Sergeant," Silver Spar
Leader said smoothly.  All thoughts of his inner anguish were now gone,
replaced only by his determined professionalism.  "We're headed for that
little spot of Paradise right there," he pointed.
     Bojay guided the shuttle in on a perfect heading, making sure his
trajectory would take him right into the dead center of the green
expanse, and avoiding any remote possibility of being caught up in the
turbulence of one of the storms adjacent to where the fertile regions
began.  When they entered the atmosphere, they were greeted to a sight of
clear blue skies, and a breathtaking vista beneath them.
     Once they were on the ground, Bojay wasted little time popping open
the hatch.  He turned back to face the team, who were all unfastening
their harnesses.
     "Okay, here's the checklist one more time.  The first landram heads
out to the west of our base position to check out the mineral deposits
scanned in the initial telemetry readings.  Lepus and Nestor  will
accompany Demos and Clement.  Second landram goes out with Thomson, Jacob
and Pili to study the livestock samples that are roaming the vicinity. 
Corporal Komma and I will stay at base camp to monitor communications,
and Gayla will study the agro-samples in walking distance of base camp. 
I want us to gather as much as we can within the space of four to six
centars, so we can report back to the Galactica and then help coordinate
activities when they start sending in the cargo ships and shuttles." he
then paused briefly and said quietly, "Fall out."
     The seven men and two women rose from their seats, with the three
security guards and one med-tech going to the rear compartment of the
shuttle to get the landrams ready.  The rest filed out the hatch one at a
time, with Bojay the last to exit.  The first thing he did was inhale the
wonderfully fresh, clean air.  This marked the first time he'd been on
any kind of planet surface since his infiltration mission on Gomorrah,
which seemed a thousand yahrens ago to him.
     "Well, one thing's for certain.  No felgercarb in the air to frack
up the ability of plant life to grow.  Not a trace of air pollution of
any kind."
     Bojay turned and frowned as he saw agro-tech Gayla taking a reading. 
She'd uttered two profanities in one sentence as though it were a totally
natural form of speech for her.
     "Uh...Gayla, is it?" he came over to her, "I think we can do without
the colorful metaphors."
     Gayla stared at him, her dead serious expression lending a slight
severity to what was otherwise a very attractive face framed by brown
hair cut a bit shorter than normal for most women.  "It's an accurate
description, isn't it?" 
     "Well, yeah, but..."
     "What's it matter?  I thought warriors like you were used to hearing
things like they were."
     Yeah, but I'm not used to hearing it put that way from agro-techs. 
Especially women agro-techs, he thought.  "Just keep scanning, Gayla."
     "That's what I'm here for." she moved off in the direction of a
large field, just two hundred metrones away.  As Gayla moved out, the
rear compartment door of the shuttle opened and Bojay could hear the
sound of both landrams starting up.  The first one emerged and soon made
a turn to the west, meaning it was the one carrying the mining and
mineral team, while the second one bearing Pili and the two guards
proceeded to the north.
     Now comes the acid test of finding out if this planet is all its
cracked up to be as far as the potential for the Fleet goes, Bojay mused
as he began to walk away from the shuttle, taking in the expanse about
him.  Occasionally looking off in the directions the landrams had gone,
and seeing how much longer they remained in view before they disappeared
over the distant horizons.  Finally, he made his way back toward the
field where Gayla had positioned herself.  He could see the agro-tech
smiling, which helped soften her features and enhance her attractiveness.
     "Captain, we've hit the super fracking jackpot," she said, "This is
a maize field that runs for a thousand metrones in all directions, and
all indications are that it's perfect by our standards.  Look!" she held
up an opened ear of the yellow vegetable and displayed it proudly. 
"Absolutely no impurities whatsoever.  If we harvested this one field
alone, we'd be able to feed at least a few hundred people.  Now do the
math, and realize how many more of these fields exist throughout the safe
regions of the planet, and you're talking about a whole harvest cycle's
worth of food for the entire population with plenty of new seed for
additional crop growth left over."
     "Maize has always been a scare commodity," Bojay noted.
     "Not any more," Gayla said with satisfaction, "After we get done
with this place, that whole group of gallmonging borays hoarding their
stocks for a mega-fracking profit are going to be out of business for
fracking forever!"
     Bojay tried not to wince at Gayla's excessive profanity.  This was
clearly an ingrained character trait of hers, and he knew that if he made
a big deal out of it, she'd probably only get more graphic in her words. 
The sound command judgment was to just ignore it for now.
     "Okay, so it's edible," Bojay said, "But what causes this kind of
abundance to flourish?  Normal rain patterns?  And can there really be
normal weather patterns across this region indepenendent of what happens
on the rest of the planet?"
     "Well, this place gets the water it needs for these plants to grow,"
Gayla said, "Moisture levels in the maize and in the soil reads perfectly
normal."
     "Yes, but can you tell if that moisture in the soil comes from
rainfall or whether its just a natural moisture in the soil itself? 
That's the real important question."
     "I'll need a few more centons to figure that out.  Cross correlating
with the atmosphere readings will be necessary."  She then checked her
scanner, "Humidity level is zero.  Now that's interesting, it's absolute
zero.  That means there's not a trace of moisture in the air.  The
conditions are perfect as if..."
     "As if what?" Bojay pressed.
     Gayla looked at him.  "As if it had been programmed that way.  You
know, now that I think of it," she checked her scanner again and shook
her head, "Same thing with the temperature.  The settings are so perfect,
they remind me of the settings we adjust the control-climate levels to in
the Agro-Domes."
     "So that means this ecosystem produced a perfect setting on its
own," Bojay said, "Good for us.  That means this food should be perfect. 
That means we can send in agro-storage ships at bare minimum."
     "I guess so," Gayla looked back at the expanse of maize before her,
"Still..."
     "Still what?"
     "Nothing," she shook her head, "My silly fracking imagination."
     Which accounts for your silly vocabulary?  Bojay thought
sarcastically as he moved back toward the shuttle, and decided to see if
any reports were coming in from the landrams.  He found Komma seated in
the shuttle-copilot seat with his headset on, listening attentively.
     "Anything?" the captain asked.
     Komma lifted the headset up, "Mineral shuttle not in position yet. 
Livestock shuttle already reports seeing a herd of rather unusual looking
bovine creatures.  With three horns instead of two like we're used to. 
But Pili says those are just like the ones on her planet."
     "Is that so?" Bojay leaned against the compartment wall, "I guess
they should be edible from our standpoint, one extra horn
notwithstanding."
     "Well, Pili also says that particular breed of bovine was always a
favorite of those giant rapton creatures from her planet too."
     The captain let out a dry chuckle, "She'd better not start
recognizing one of those things, or else our trip here comes to a very
premature end.  Tell them to chart those areas where the herds are
grazing and gathering, and we'll consider it a done deal that livestock
supply ships will need to head in."
     "Thomson says he can't get over how tall and thick the grass is for
them to graze in," Komma added, "From the standpoint of animal life
surviving, the planet conditions are perfect."
     "Two for two," Bojay nodded, "Now let's wait to hear from the
mineral team and see if we end up with a perfect score.  If our luck
stays with us, our main job can be done in a centar and then the
Galactica can direct operations from their end when the supply ships head
in."
     "Suit me just fine," Komma smirked, "I'm getting homesick for my
desk already."


     "I'm only getting trace tylium deposits so far, but if we follow
things right we should get led to a big one, if the planet scan data was
accurate."   Demos said as Sergeant Lepus guided the landram over the
terrain that had shifted from the fertile grasslands of the landing zone,
to a more rocky surface.
     "And if it wasn't, then we get a nice reminder of how we should
never put our faith in computers too much," the mining expert Clement
chuckled from the back of the landram.  Until they found an actual
deposit and could take readings on how to mine it, he'd have absolutely
no meaningful work to do.  So that would mean an idle crack at every
possible opportunity to keep himself from becoming bored.
     But alongside him in the back, med-tech Nestor had found another way
of alleviating the boredom caused by nothing to do.  His eyes were
closed, and he was catching a few extra centons of sleep.  The med-tech
had long since perfected the ability to fall asleep at will and get the
extra amounts of sleep over the course of a normal working cycle that he
felt the body needed to stay in top shape when it was time to do normal
work.  Even as the sound of  pinging increased in rhythm inside the
landram, Nestor was still out.
     "Readings starting to go off the scale," Demos started to smile,
"Trace levels now up to concentrate 3.33 and rising fast.  When that
sucker hits ten we're on top of the deposit."
     Lepus glanced over at the scanner as he continued to drive the
landram over the terrain.  He could see the digital readout just as the
mineralologist described it, as well as the indicator of what sector it
lay in.  And then...at the edge of his scan beam, he noticed something
else that made him frown.
     "Hey Demos, if you got a micron, check that indication on the edge
of the scan beam in Delta two section."
     "That's outside the source for this deposit,"
     "Just check it," Lepus gently retorted, reminding the mineralologist
that he was in overall command.
     Demos stared at it and his eyes narrowed, "Huh?  You got to be
kidding me, that almost looks like-----,"
     "It is," Lepus cut him off, "On a narrow band no more than fifteen
square metrones wide.  Fifteen perfect square metrones with no
deviations."
     "What are you babbling about?" Clement leaned forward from his seat
in the rear of the landram and when he did he too saw the indicator.  And
like the other two, his face went up in a deep frown of disbelief,
"That's incredible."
     "I'm redirecting the scan," Lepus said as he made some adjustments. 
"This way the reading will be in the center of the screen."
     When he was through with the adjustment they were all in a state of
dumbfounded amazement.  So much so, that Lepus found himself bringing the
landram to a stop.
     "Hey Nestor," Clement leaned over and nudged the dozing med-tech
     Nestor let out a groan, "I hope this is a medical emergency."
     "Might be," Demos's tone was deadly serious, "Maybe the three of us
are hallucinating and you can confirm that."
     "Confirm what?" Nestor grunted as he leaned forward.
     "That," Lepus pointed at the screen.
     The med-tech squinted and then blinked twice.  "What in the name
of..."
     "Great," Clement sighed, "We're not hallucinating."
      "That makes no sense whatsoever."  Nestor vigorously shook his
head, "If that computer is right then it means it's raining in that one
narrow bit of space and no where else around it."
     "A steady downpour in that one spot," Lepus said, "Almost like...as
if some part of the rest of this crazy planet seeped its way into here."
     The silence inside the shuttle lasted another centon before Clement
broke it.  "So what do we do?  Stop to report it?"
     "I guess we have to," Lepus began to feel just a bit uneasy as he
keyed in the communication swith, "Beta Landram to Base.  Is Captain
Bojay there?"
     "Hang on a micron," Komma's voice crackled back.  Lepus drummed his
fingers against the landram control as he waited.
     "What's up Beta?" Bojay's voice now filled the landram.
     "Captain, we're almost on top of a pretty good tylium deposit,
but...we may have a problem here."
     "What kind of problem?"
     Lepus took a centon to recap what they'd observed on the scanner. 
When the sergeant was finished, there was no hesitation before Bojay
answered.
     "Well, that's an interesting situation for me to chew on, Sergeant,
but I think it's best you get back to work on that tylium deposit and
figure out the math on how it can be mined.  Try to keep that reading on
your scanner at all times though, and report back to me if there's any
change in the pattern."
     "We'll do that.  Beta out."
     But as Lepus moved the landram back on the heading toward the source
of they tylium deposit, an uneasy silence remained in the vehicle.  And
in the back, Clement no longer felt in the mood to make any more idle
cracks since he wasn't bored any longer.  Nor did Nestor feel up to
catching an extra centon of sleep.


     "Well, that's an interesting report," Bojay sighed as he removed his
headset and set it next to Komma, who'd heard the entire exchange.
     "Yeah," the corporal didn't know how to react to it, "Think that's
cause for alarm?"
     "Not by a longshot," the captain shook his head, "I'm beginning to
develop a theory that this entire region is protected from the rest of
the planet by some kind of...outer membrane if you will, that lets a
normal climate to develop, and that inevitably you probably have to find
some minor breeches in it somewhere, but not sufficient to collapse the
entire thing.  Especially when it's as narrow a stream as they're
describing.  We continue normal operations unless there's a sudden change
in what they've described."
     "I don't know," Komma said, "If the conditions are so perfect,
then...what if it isn't a natural thing that makes the weather good,
but..."
     "Something controlled by someone or some thing?" Bojay finished for
him.  "Komma, I thought about that right when I first scanned this planet
on my deep patrol, but there's no scan reading of any intelligent
sentient lifeforms on this planet.  Also, no structured buildings that
would be needed if there was some kind of controlled way of creating
these conditions.  Until I see some hard proof from some other area, I
can't go with that theory as probable, no matter how tempting the idea
looks at first."
     Komma shrugged, "Maybe.  Still, it seems like a one in a billion
shot for this to be caused naturally."
     "We often overlook a lot of correct solutions just because they seem
like one in a billion." Bojay pointed out, "I'm just going to let the
facts as we find them dictate our conclusions.  So far, I don't see a
scenario that threatens our ability to take readings and then hopefully
pick this planet clean."
     "A minimal risk situation, in other words, is no cause for alarm."
     "The weather would have to deteriorate a lot more quickly for me to
be convinced there's reason for alarm."
     Just then, Gayla stuck her head in the open hatch.  "I'm done with
the study for this section.  Unless one of the landrams is coming back
for me to use, I've got nothing else to do but just look at the fracking
scanner and see what the other readings indicate."
     "Go ahead, Gayla," Bojay decided he'd reached his limit, "But get
one thing straight.  It's not a fracking scanner, it's just a scanner. 
And there are a lot of other things in this universe that don't get
preceded by that word either."
     Gayla looked at him funny, "Boy, you hardly struck me as the prudish
type."
     "I'm not and that isn't the point!" Bojay said with exasperation,
and feeling grateful he'd caught himself short of saying 'fracking
point.'     "There are certain places where it isn't appropriate, and
this is one of them.  Now if you want to curse up a storm by yourself, go
right ahead, but not if you're going to spend your time in here."
     Gayla threw Komma a coy look, "How about you, Corporal?  Do you find
the idea of a woman using profanity unseemly?"
     Komma hastily threw up his hands and shook his head, "Don't ask for
my opinion on anything."
     "You got that right," Bojay said angrily, "I don't know what your
problem is, Gayla, but if you don't drop it right now, I'll make sure you
get put on report with your supervisor for the next sectan."
     She rolled her eyes in bemused disgust and sat next to Komma, "Since
you find my language unseemly, Captain, would you also object if I
grabbed a smoke?" she pulled a cigarello out of her tunic pocket.
     "No, go right ahead," Bojay calmed himself.  Besides, if you stick
one of those in your mouth, it'll keep you from talking too much, he
added sarcastically to himself.
     Gayla lit her cigarello and took a deep puff as she began to
readjust the shuttle's scan beam.  A whole new set of data and telemetry
now began to register on the screen.
     Abruptly, her carefree expression faded and she instinctively put
her cigarello out.
     "Captain," her tone was suddenly dead serious, "We've got some
deteriorating weather about fifteen kilometrones to our east."
     "Rain?" Bojay leaned over her shoulder.
     "No, not rain, but...wind's picking up and the barometric pressure
is dropping in that zone."
     "Limited zone or expanding zone?" he added quickly, "This is
important."
     "Uh...just a micron," Gayla readjusted the beam.  "Limited.  Limited
zone fixed in ten square metrone region.  The difference is so great with
the adjacent areas, that's why the indicator jumped off the scale as soon
as I scanned it."
     "Sounds like we've got more than one breech in this 'membrane',"
Komma noted.
     "Yeah," Bojay rubbed his chin, "Drop in barometric pressure though
is another thing entirely from just rain.  I wonder..." he drummed his
fingers on the wall, clearly pondering his next decision.
     "Sir?" Komma asked.
     "Komma, tell the livestock landram to get back here immediately. 
Find out if the mining landram has finished its preliminary survey of the
deposit, and the instant they've got it figured out how it can be mined
by our equipment, they're to get back here too."
     "We're leaving?" Gayla asked as Komma carried out the order.
     "Just to get off the planet and signal the Galactica on the
scrambled circuit, which we can't do parked here on the surface.  We've
got let them know the potential hazards and let Adama make the decision
if the risk factor's too great to send in cargo supply ships.  That's got
to be his call ultimately.  But I can't give him full information until
the mining team figures out what procedures would be needed to get the
tylium out.  That's why we've got to give them more time."
     "Hope we don't regret giving them that extra time," Gayla said.
     "Livestock landram on its way back," Komma said, "The mining landram
just got to the deposit site.  Demos and Clement are outside doing the
survey and will need about ten centons to get all they need."
     "I think we'll be okay on that," Bojay said, hoping he wouldn't have
cause to regret those words later.  Nothing was seriously wrong yet, but
he was beginning to feel that twinge of unease that had been instilled in
him after being part of Commander Cain's ship for three yahrens.  At the
same time though, if he left the surface too soon, before the vital
survey work was done, it would carry the look of panicking needlessly,
and that could easily wreck Adama's confidence in him to lead future
missions of this kind.  And that was the last thing he needed to have
happen.


     The mining landram sat parked at the base of a medium-sized plateau,
while Demos and Clement inspected the area surrounding it with full
equipment.  Nestor and Lepus remained inside.
     "Hope they don't take too long," Lepus mused aloud, "The more time I
spend on this planet, the more I want to get off it."
     "Whatever happened to a security guard's natural desire to go planet
studying?" Nestor asked dryly.
     "I think we all lost it after the Destruction," Lepus replied, not
feeling up to any kind of mirthful remark.
     Demos stuck his head back in, "It's perfect grade-A tylium
underneath us.  Absolutely pure with no impurities, and if we used it, we
wouldn't even need to reprocess it for use in the ships that are fueled
by it."
     "Is there a catch to any of this?" Lepus asked.
     "Not really," Demos shook his head, "Just that according to Clement,
our normal extraction tools couldn't get to it without blasting away some
of the rock formations in this area.  It's really a minor thing when you
get down to it."
     "Then in that case, I guess we can wind things up and get back to
base."
     "Not yet," Clement said, as he came up alongside Demos, "Sergeant,
I've got a few mid-level charges in my pack, and so does Demos.  Between
the two of us, we can get all that blasting we need to do done, and then
leave the place set-up perfectly for a rapid mining job."
     Lepus folded his hands, "How much time would you need to do that?"
     "About ten, maybe fifteen centons top.  I think this is worth doing,
sir."
     "Demos?"
     "I concur," the mineralologist nodded.  "We can get some vital work
done."
     The security guard skipped a beat and then keyed in his transmitter,
"Beta landram to base.  We're going to be another ten or fifteen centons
before we start heading back."
     "Have you run into something?" there was an edge of concern in
Bojay's voice.
     "No, no problem, but Demos and Clement want to blast away some rock
formations and facilitate mining operations for the Galactica.  They've
got the equipment for it, so they might as well get it done."
     "Yeah, that might be a good thing to add in the report to the
Commander that we've gotten done.  Is it a promising target?"
     "Pure tylium that wouldn't need any reprocessing," Lepus said, "The
Fleet will want to tap this whole section dry."
     "Yeah, I guess so.  Okay, do it.  But if you run into any extended
difficulty getting the job done, then forget it and get back here."
     "Affirmative, base.  Beta landram, out."  Lepus switched off the
transmitter and looked at the two men, "Get cracking, now, gentlemen.  If
you're not done in fifteen centons, we're gone."
     They both smiled and headed out.  For the next several centons,
Lepus watched through the front of the landram and saw them set up their
charges along the medium sized rock formation some hundred metrones from
where the vehicle was parked.  Both of them handled the devices with the
fine precision one would have expected of men in their designations, with
neither showing any sign of being nervous about handling such potentially
dangerous devices.
     Lepus yawned and turned around.  Nestor had now overcome his earlier
tinge of apprehension, and had gone back to catching an extra few centons
of sleep.
     I wish I could fall asleep on command like him, Lepus thought.  I
guess you have to be a sharp med-expert to figure out how to do something
like that.
     Suddenly, the sound of a loud explosion ripped through the air,
causing Nestor to bolt out of his brief slumber, and Lepus to whip his
head around.  Through the cloud of dust and falling pieces of rock, he
could see a figure sprawled across the ground.  When he saw Clement, some
twenty metrones to the right suddenly get to his feet and start waving
his arms frantically, he knew right away that Demos, the mineralologist
was the one who had just been seriously injured.
     "Frack!" Lepus jumped out of his seat in the landram, "Hurry,
Nestor, Demos's hurt!!"
     Nestor grabbed his med-pack, and the two hurried out of the landram
and over to where Demos lay.  A dazed Clement wandered up alongside them,
his expression one of shock.
     "What the hell happened?" Lepus demanded as Nestor immediately went
to work on the wounded and unconscious  mineralologist.  Blood flowed
from a number of cuts across the body, but the tell-tale sign of serious
injury lay in the shredded and mangled condition of Demos's left arm and
leg, which almost seemed unrecognizable.
     "I don't know," Clement mumbled, still coming to grips with what had
happened, "He'd just finished placing his second of four charges and set
the timer on it, and then suddenly it went off!  That shouldn't have
happened unless he had a faulty charge to begin with."
     "How is he?" Lepus turned back to Nestor, who had opened up his pack
and started administering two injections.
     "I have to keep him immbolized for now," the med-tech's
professionalism kicked in.  "Stop the bleeding first, and then get the
potential infection neutralized before I start dressing up the wounds. 
If I do this just right, then hopefully he won't lose the arm and leg."
     "Can't you move him back into the landram?"
     Nestor turned around and glared at the sergeant, "I can't move him
at all if I want to give him a good chance for surviving this.  One thing
I am not going to do is risk exacerbating his injuries further by moving
him back to the landram, let alone subjecting him to a lengthy, bumpy
ride back to base!"
     "Great," Lepus said with disgust, "Just fracking great.  Of all the
times to find out we've got a fracked up set of defective charges..." he
then stopped and a wave of horror came over him.  "Wait a micron.  Were
the timers set on those other charges you two laid before this happened?"
     "Yes, they...oh God," Clement said in horror, "We've got five
centons to get the other two charges Demos laid defused.  They're just
ten and twenty metrones to the left!"
     "Okay, hold on, hold on!" Lepus threw up his arms and tried to sort
everything out.  "If the charges you set go off on schedule, they can't
affect us here.  We're far enough from those, right?"
     "Yeah, but we could get hit by flying bits of rock and dirt from
those.  With Demos's charges it can only be worse!"
     "All right, all right," the sergeant said rapidly, trying to think
quickly, "Nestor, you've got to move him back to the landram and we've
got to let those charges go off.  The risk factor is too great if we keep
him in this position and try to defuse things."
     "Sergeant, I'm telling you he's got to stay immobilized to have the
best chance of saving his leg!"
     "Well he can't have the best chance for it, because if any of us are
sitting here when those other charges go off, it could be a lot worse for
him and us!" Lepus barked, "Now come on!  We'll help carry him back as
delicately as we can.  At least far enough to get out of the line of
where all that debris from the explosions is going to fly."
     Reluctantly, Nestor closed up his med-pack and motioned them over. 
"Lepus, take him by the shoulders.  Clement, you and I keep his leg
level."
     Slowly, the three of them gently lifted the wounded Demos up and
taking their steps very slowly, they began to move back toward the
landram, some fifty metrones away.
     "Go about halfway and we should be okay," Clement grunted as he and
Nestor struggled to keep Demos level, and not let his mangled leg drop. 
"Blast direction was aimed toward the rocks, so that shouldn't scatter
the debris too far back toward us."
     "All right," Lepus could feel the strain of carrying the injured man
threatening to overtake him.  A few more metrones...okay, now!"
     And then, they gently set him back down on the surface.  Nestor
dropped to his knees, reopened his pack and went back to work on treating
the leg.  Lepus and Clement both let out exhausted sighs of relief and
looked back toward the rock formations.
     "One more centon," Clement said, "Then they go off.  The job will be
done."
     "At a pretty lousy price," Lepus grunted, "We're going to have to
have every mid-charge explosive in Ordnance rechecked for flaws after
this if he had an unstable one."
     "Sergeant, our charges didn't come from Ordnance.  SOP for civilian
techs in mining and mineralology is to keep our own supply of charges
separate from the ones the military use aboard the Mineral Ship."
     Lepus's eyes widened, "I never knew you guys had your own supply. 
Well, it looks like the Mineral Ship needs to recheck their stock then."
     "Twenty microns," Clement quickly rechecked his chronometer.  "We'd
better get down just in case."
     The two of them squatted down around Nestor and the injured Demos
and waited.  When the explosions finally went off, only several specks of
dirt reached their position twenty-five metrones away.
     As Nestor continued to work on his unconscious patient, Lepus and
Clement got back up and looked at what the charges had done.  And once
again, they found themselves surprised by what they saw.  Without saying
anything, they slowly made their way back toward the source of the blast.
     Nestor, who had his head down and was applying a new torniquet to
Demos's leg soon finally broke the silence, "Well, what do----,"
     He then broke off as he looked up and his eyes widened as he saw
Lepus and Clement standing in front of a blasted open rock formation that
now revealed a large intricate pattern of relay cables and computer
equipment that had now been heavily damaged.  Several blinking lights
indicated some remaining circuits that still managed to function.
     Demos suddenly let out an agonized moan as he began returning to
consciousness, "Wha...What happened?"
     The med-tech looked down at him and smiled reassuringly, "You're
going to be okay, Demos.  You'll probably never play triad again, but
you'll be okay."
     "What...what's going on, I----," he struggled to turn his head and
look back.  "What in...what's that?"
     Nestor let out a grim chuckle, "It looks like we're not the first
people who ever came to this planet." 

                    Chapter Four

     "Are there any indications as to what those relays and computers
control?"  a stunned Bojay asked as he communicated with Lepus.
     "Not that we can see, Captain," Lepus replied, "It looks like this
was a quintessential relay type set-up, and whatever central source it
feeds into, or flows out from, is a long way from here."
     "And your scanning didn't detect any of it before you decided to
blast the rock areas they were buried in?"
     "No.  No way to figure out why that happened, but it could be they
had some kind of safety coating or device that made them impervious to
normal scan technology.  Our scans picked up all of the tylium that lies
underneath this zone of circuitry and which flows out away from it.  It
was our dumb luck that one of the charges was placed in that particular
zone because we probably didn't need to set it there just to get at the
tylium."
     "Okay, take whatever readings you can on that so the Galactica can
go over them in more detail later," Bojay said as he paced back and forth
inside the shuttle.  "How soon before you can get Demos safely aboard the
landram?"
     "Nestor wants a little more time to make sure his wounds are fully
sterilized from infection.  He doesn't have any internal injuries thank
God, but there was a lot of concern that he could lose the leg
altogether.  I think maybe we can finally head out in about thirty
centons top."
     "Okay, you've got that much time only if the situation here on the
planet remains stable.  Slightest sign of trouble you're to get your
astrums out of there right away.  Base out."
     Bojay took off his headset and shook his head, "What else can go
wrong.  Now we've got a man seriously injured at the worst possible
centon."
     "I think we know what the worst thing can happen is," Komma pointed
out, "Suppose those relay stations have something to do with the
weather?"
     The captain looked back at him and nodded, "Yeah.  And if some of
them have been disrupted because of what just happened, then we could be
looking at our worst case scenario.  Still, until we get a sign that the
weather's turning bad on us, let's just try to keep doing what we can."
     "Doesn't look like this planet's going to be the bounty of riches we
were hoping for," Komma grunted, "Adama's probably going to consider the
safety risk too great to send in larger teams."
     "Unfortunate if it comes to that.  I'd hate to think that some
faulty-stored charges on the Mineral Ship became the cause of that."
     Komma put a hand up to his headset, and listened in.  "Thomson on
the livestock landram's got a new report."
     "Put him through.  They were supposed to be back by now," Bojay felt
a bit irritated.
     "Alpha landram to Base," Sergeant Thomson's voice filled the
shuttle, "We just hit a snag getting back.  There's a whole giant herd of
bovines blocking our path.  We either have to disperse them or backtrack
our way around."
     "Use your own judgment on which way is better, Sergeant," Bojay
rolled his eyes, "That's all."
     "Yes sir, we----," he then broke off.
     "What?" Bojay leaned forward, "Thomson, what's going on?"
     "Uh...those bovines suddenly started to get up and, geez looks like
a fracking stampede!  I'm backing us up to stay clear of them, they're
going across our field of vision.  Now..." he paused, "Now we've got some
equines headed in too.  Lords of Kobol, almost looks like every herd we
inventoried earlier is headed right in front of us.  What?" his voice
changed pitch as if he were responding to someone behind him.
     "Thomson?" Bojay's impatience deepened.
     "Just a micron, Captain, Pili's trying to tell me something."
     Great, Bojay thought with disgust.  How long is that going to take?
     Not long as it turned out.  "Captain, Pili says that when animal
herds like that suddenly start stampeding it always meant one of two
things on her planet.  One, that a rapton was about to strike, and the
other was a sudden change in the weather."
     "Oh Lord," Bojay for the first time began to feel his unease deepen,
"Thomson drive yourself through those animals and get back here!  Use
your cannon if you have to blast your way through but get back here,
fast!  Base out!"   He then switched the frequency setting, "Base to Beta
landram.  Get back here, now!  Situation no longer stable!  Do you
acknowledge?"
     There was a trace of delay before Lepus answered, "Yes sir,
but----."
     "No fracking buts!" Bojay shouted into the transmitter, "Get back
here now or you endanger the rest of us!"
     "Yes, sir!" Lepus replied obediently, "Beta landram out!"
     Bojay pulled off his headset, "Komma, start securing things for
emergency take-off.  If things reach a danger point and they're not back,
I may order you out of here so you can signal the Galactica and tell them
what's happened."
     "Captain!" Gayla blurted as she appeared at the hatchway, placing
her hands on it, "Take a look at this!"
     Bojay hurried over and looked out.  Far away to the east, he could
see the sky start to take on an ominously dark quality.  And then, he
felt a sudden breeze brush against his cheek.
     "Where I come from, the sky darkening and the barometer dropping at
the same time usually means only one thing," Gayla said, "There's going
to be a cyclone at some point."
     "Cyclone," Bojay whispered.  He'd never been caught up in one of
those kinds of horrific storms involving a funnel-shaped cloud packing
major winds dropping to the ground and leaving a devastating path of
destruction in its wake.  But he'd seen his share of amateur video
recordings shown on vid-com broadcasts over the yahrens to know how
frightening they looked and could be.  "If one of those comes up, what
kind of protection would we have?"
     Gayla looked back at the shuttle, "In that thing, practically none. 
A cyclone could lift it up and toss it aside like a triad player shooting
the ball for a score."
     "And if it can do that to the shuttle, then God knows those in the
landrams wouldn't stand a chance either."
     "We've got to do something in case one comes up before the others
get back."
     "That's why I've got Komma ready to get out of here in a hurry so he
can get clear of the planet and signal the Galactica." he looked at the
agro-tech, "You get aboard and be prepared to go with him if it comes to
that.  No point putting your life at risk."
     "Uh-uh," Gayla shook her head, "I'm not leaving ahead of the other
members of this team.  If Komma has to go, then he goes alone."
     Bojay glared at her, "If I give you a direct order to leave, Gayla,
then you'll leave."
     "Then pick me up with your own fracking arms and haul me in there,
because I won't leave without Pili and the others," Gayla held her
ground.  "And instead of making some fracking macho point to me about how
my place would be in the shuttle, suppose we get our astrums going on
digging some shelter we might need?"
     Bojay shook his head in disgust, "Yeah, yeah.  Start digging at the
base of the maize field.  We can't let any hole we dig be out in the
open, right?"
     "Right." she pulled out the laser pistol she'd been issued with her
equipment pack.  "Let's get to it."
     "Captain!" Komma stuck his head out of the shuttle, "Scan readings
are going way off the charts!  That area with the pressure drop is
collapsing rapidly, and there are signs of other breeches opening up
too!"
     "Komma, stand by and prepare to get out of here!" Bojay shouted back
as he and Gayla sprinted toward the edge of the maize field with lasers
at the ready.  The two of them then took aim and pointed them at the
ground, opening fire at maximum setting.  Immediately, large chunks of
dirt kicked up and the concentrated beam of their lasers began to create
an ever widening and deepening hole in the ground.
     For five centons, they continued to empty their pistols into the
ground, making a hole that would be big enough to accomodate them both. 
Throughout their digging, they could feel the wind picking up and blowing
more and more in their faces.  Then, Gayla looked up and her face turned
ashen.
     "Cyclone!" she shouted.
     Bojay glanced up and felt his blood rush cold.  In the distance he
could see an ugly, black funnel-shaped cloud descending from the swirling
cloud-mass above toward the ground below.  Like a giant finger or
tentacle it extended down until it touched the ground and then began to
swirl in a clockwise fashion, spiraling ominously in their direction.
     "Get in there!" Bojay pushed Gayla down into the makeshift hole, and
then sprinted back toward the shuttle and sticking his head in.  
     "Take off!" he shouted at Komma, "Take off and signal the
Galactica!"
     "I'll try to get back down here after it passes and pick you all
up!" the security guard shouted back with determination.
     "Worry about that later, just go!" Bojay slammed his fist against
the open hatch and then hurried back to the maize field.  The horrific
cyclone was now moving closer toward them, and the increased tempo of the
wind was beginning to make it difficult for Bojay to keep moving.
     Behind him, he heard the sounds of the shuttle starting up and
maneuvering itself into a take-off position.  As soon as he reached the
field, he looked back and saw that it was away, and rising rapidly.
     Bojay dropped into the two metrone deep hole next to Gayla, who was
sprawled out on her stomach and had the rest of her equipment pack
opened.
     "I've secured a metal brace used for rock climbing in here," she
said as calmly as she could, "If we tie a rope through it, and then get
it around ourselves, that might keep us more secure in here."
     "Good idea," Bojay nodded as he opened up his own equipment pack and
took out the long rope contained inside and knotted it to the brace Gayla
had secured in the side of the hole.  Ordinarily, these tools would have
been used for climbing rock formations and keeping a climber securely
harnessed to prevent him from falling.  Now, it offered the only
impromptu means of finding a way to ride out the impending disaster.  And
both of them knew that there was the potential for it remaining less
secure to the subsoil of the ground then if it had been hammered into
solid rock.
     Bojay secured the rope around the both of them and then flattened
himself against the surface as far as he could go.  Instinctively, his
arm went around Gayla and pulled her closer to him.
     "And I thought all this time, I wasn't your type, Captain," she
managed to chuckle as the sound of the wind picked up, almost drowning
out her words.
     "Disaster can make strange bedfellows, can't it?" he managed to
shout above the roar, which was fast becoming deafening.
     "It's almost on top of us!" Gayla managed to shout, "Sounds like an
express hover-craft!"
     The wind whipped above them, beating against their bodies with
incredible force.  Bojay could feel the rope grow taut, and for one
fraction of an instant wondered if he was going to be yanked up and blown
out of the makeshift shelter, but it held fast and he remained secure. 
He could feel his body pelted by dust and several ears of maize as well,
and the pressure building up inside his ears was so great he wondered if
they'd explode.
     And then, the fury of the wind abruptly died down and the noise
abated.  Slowly, Bojay craned his head up so he could see above the ridge
of the hole.
     "It's passed," he said with relief as he let go of Gayla and then
unhitched himself.  
     "Frack almighty," Gayla muttered as she came up to a sitting
position and rubbed the back of her neck.
     Slowly, Silver Spar Leader got to his feet and watched the mighty
cyclone move away from them.  He could see clumps of bushes and small
trees in the distance get picked up by the force of the killer storm, and
get sucked up into the swirling maelstrom, and it only made Bojay shudder
at the thought of what getting caught up in that fury would be like
before the merciful release of death finally came.
     He looked back to his left to reorient his bearings, and then turned
back to the receding cyclone.
     "Oh Lord," Bojay muttered, "If it stays on that heading, then the
livestock landram is going to get caught up in that."
     Gayla's only response was a silent expression of total horror.


     "That's the situation, Commander," Komma sounded anxious to be
finished with his summary of what had happened.  "Clearly, there's some
kind of central station that's kept the weather under control in this
part of the planet, and we've ended up damaging it.  There's no telling
how much worse things are going to get on the planet before all is said
and done."
     Aboard the Galactica bridge, Adama stood on the upper level rubbing
his chin, an impervious expression lining his face.  Standing next to
him, Colonel Tigh only revealed the slightest trace of unease.
     "Thank you for your report, Corporal," Adama finally said, "Return
to the surface and remove all members of the team as orderly as you can. 
Their safety comes before anything else."
     "Yes sir, Commander," he paused, "Sir, I'm taking another look at
what's happening down there.  It looks like more holes are opening up
because I can see more nasty weather patterns developing."
     "Use caution in getting down there safely, so you can pull them
out," Adama said, "Galactica out."
     He shut off the communicator and let out a dejected sigh.  "This is
the last thing I wanted to see happen.  We find a promising lead for
resources and now it could cost ten people their lives."
     "Certainly not the kind of situation that could help matters with
the Council if it came to that," the executive officer noted.  
     "I'll be in a no-win situation either way," Adama grunted, "If
they're killed, they'll criticize my judgment for sending them in.  If
they get out safe, they'll come down harshly on me if I then decide to
abandon all hope of getting any resources from there.  It's just the kind
of situation that could wake up Sire Antipas after all this time, since
he has a choice of which way to go depending on how things turn out."
     "True," Tigh nodded, "What do we do in the meantime?"
     "Well, Komma's going to be in a tricky situation trying to get the
team out in those conditions.  It might be a good idea to have some
back-up standing by in case something goes wrong."
     "You mean send out another shuttle?"
     "Yes," the Commander said, "And send a viper ahead of it, so it can
be in position above the planet to commuincate with the ground and keep
them up to date on what's happening."
     "I'll see to it," Tigh moved off, leaving Adama alone on the upper
level and shaking his head in disgust over the downturn in events.


     "Frack!" Sergeant Thomson slammed his fist against the control wheel
of the landram.  Nine bovine creatures, each with the distinctive third
horn that set them apart from the kind he was ordinarily used to had
hopelessly blocked the vehicle's path.  He could also seen an
increasingly darkening sky, and with the increased tempo of the wind, the
stopped landram had begun to rock slightly.  "We're never going to get
back at this rate.  Jacob, get up on the roof and start training the
cannon on them."
     "Yes sir!" Corporal Jacob got up and opened the landram door, and
stepped out.  An increasingly uneasy Pili then reached over and closed
it, shutting off the increasing howl of the wind.
     "Not good," the Kiian said in her customary awkward way, "Weather
only bad from now on."
     "Yeah," Thomson grunted as he kept looking ahead.  And then, several
red streaks from above indicated that Jacob had begun opening fire. 
Several bovines promptly fell, while the others began to quickly
disperse.  Seeing an opening, he now began to move the landram forward in
the direction of the base camp.
     "Sergeant!" Jacob's voice suddenly came over the intercom, "Twenty
degrees to your left, about five kilometrones away!  Cyclone!"
     Thomson's head darted over and his jaw fell open as he saw the ugly,
funnel-shaped behemoth moving toward them.  He could see the uprooted
trees swirling into the matrix of it, which was enough to tell him how
powerful its force had to be.
     Pili settled next to him and a look of terror crossed her face.
     "The Evil One's sign," she whispered. 
     Thomson glanced over at her for only an instant.  Obviously a
cyclone had some kind of religious significance among her people, but he
wasn't about to ask her to elaborate further on that.  Right now he had a
critical decision to make.
     "Jacob, make sure you're secured!" he shouted into the intercom. 
"I'm going to try to angle our way around that gallmonging fracker!"
     "It's really moving fast, sir!" Jacob clearly wasn't thrilled by
that news.  "I'm not sure if----,"
     "Shut up and secure yourself!" Thomson shouted as he gunned up the
landram to maximum speed and moved on a heading to the southwest, which
he hoped would take it outside the path of the oncoming whirlwin from the
southeast.  The vehicle moved sluggishly over one of the dead bovines
gunned down by the cannon, but then finally began to move at top speed. 
Over the sound of the landram engines, the only other noises were the
increasing tempo of the wind and some low murmuring from Pili, which
almost sounded like a kind of incantation or prayer.
     Hoping to ward it off, no doubt, Thomson thought as he kept his
tight hold on the wheel and his foot to the pedal.  I hope she's got some
good experience at doing that.
     "Sergeant, I think it's changing course!" Jacob's voice grew more
alarmed.  "Moving lateral now in our direction!"
     Thomson glanced over and gritted his teeth in disgust, "Come on you
fracking snitrod, stay away!" 
     Next to him, the tempo of Pili's soft incantation only quickened.  A
sudden gust of wind suddenly pushed the landram to one side, requiring
Thomson to turn the wheel hard in the other direction to compensate.
     "We're not going to make it!" Jacob's rising voice was almost
drowned out by the rumbling hovercraft like noise. 
     Thomson glanced over frantically to his right and saw a large pile
of boulders situated against the base of a medium sized hill.  Knowing
time was running out, he gunned the landram up one more time and brought
it to a stop in front of the pile.
     "Out!" he shouted as he hit the button that opened the door, "Get
behind the rocks and maybe this thing can also buffer the winds if it
doesn't come directly over us!"
     He then pushed Pili out, and she stumbled over the rocks but managed
to throw herself across the ground and wrap her arms about one of them. 
He followed her out and had to struggle violently to make his way
forward, as the power of the wind threatened to lift him off the ground
altogether.  
     "Jacob!" he screamed as loud as he could, but wasn't able to turn
around, "Get down here!"
     As Thomson managed to get to the ground behind the rock piles next
to where Pili lay, he heard a loud groaning sound of metal being pushed
by a giant force.  And then, he was barely able to look up and see the
landram suddenly rise off the ground like it was a shuttle taking off
into the air.  
     As it rose rapidly, Sergeant Thomson's eyes widened in horror when
he saw that Corporal Jacob was still clutching the ladder leading to the
gundeck when the landram began its sudden rise.  For ten microns, Thomson
was forced to watch the horrifying sight of the land vehicle rapidly
disappearing from view, with the distinct brown jacket of Jacob on the
side still visible the entire time.  And then...it was gone without a
trace.
     As the mighty roar of the cyclone passed a mere sixty metrones from
where he and Pili lay, the only thing Sergeant Thomson could do was bury
his face in the ground in anguish.


     As soon as Komma finished his report to the Galactica, he wasted
little time bringing the shuttle out of its standard orbit of the planet,
and on a descent trajectory that would place him  within proximity of the
original landing spot.  The closer he was to it, the better chance he had
of letting the rest of the team know he was back and ready to take them
home.
     First time you drew a planetside mission, he thought idly with
disgust, and it had to be for something like this.  Where you couldn't
even find yourself up against an enemy you could fire back at.  How in
Hades do you open fire on the weather?
     He checked his scanner again and saw that the landing area was in
the clear for now, weather-wise.  But he could also on his full view of
the entire planet surface see a large number of weather patterns and
formations that could only mean massive levels of cyclonic activity
acorss the eight-hundred kilometrone expanse.
     He blinked as he saw that last indicator.  Eight-hundred
kilometrones?  That doesn't check.  This whole area is supposed to be
nine-hundred kilometrones in length.
     Komma retriangulated his scan to the westernmost edge of the land
mass and saw that a massive cloud formation had now moved across, headed
in an easterly direction.  The umistakable cloud formation of a raging
rainstorm.  
     "Oh, frack," he whispered as he punched the throttle of his shuttle
to increase his rate of descent.  The cyclones had been bad enough, but
the prospects of a full scale typhon passing over the region would only
be even more devastating.
     As the shuttle passed through the upper atmosphere, he could feel
the craft buffeted slightly by wind currents.  Komma tightened his grip
on the controls, determined to not let himself be thrown off-course. 
     And then...as he passed through a darkened gray cloud, he suddenly
saw it.  Just five kilometrones ahead of him, the ugly funnel cloud
moving rapidly towards him.  
     Komma rapidly turned the control wheel to maneuver the shuttle on a
trajectory that would take him away from the raging cyclone.  But he
could also see another problem.  The cylcone had kicked up enormous
amounts of surface debris which were being spewed back out even at this
high altitude, with each item of debris carrying the potential to be as
deadly as a laser blast from a cannon.
     The corporal decided to try and gain alitude to get above the
cyclone but by now it had grown too close, and he could feel the
buffeting effects of the wind currents preventing him from gaining
altitude.  It was now clear to Komma that he had to take the shuttle down
fast to prevent from being either caught up in the storm or forced down
in a violent out-of-control crash.
     Komma hit the controls that would increase the rate of controlled
descent, alternately glancing back out to see if the cyclone was still
reasonably far away.  And then...his eyes widened in horror when he saw
the unmistakable shape of a Colonial landram headed straight toward him. 
The Security Guard frantically banked to his right, but then felt a
violent jerk as the landram crashed into the rear of the shuttle.
     In an instant, warning lights and alarm sirens filled the shuttle's
interior.  Komma desperately brought the shuttle back to a level
approach, as he looked at the instrument read-out.  The impact had
totally damaged the shuttle's rear thrusters, which already told him one
grim thing.  He might be able to still put the shuttle down safely on the
ground, but after that he was on his own since the shuttle was now
totally incapable of ever leaving the surface again.


     "What do we do now?" Gayla asked, still shaken by the recent
experience of riding out the cyclone.
     "We keep our eyes peeled," Bojay said, "And at the first sign of
anything new, we take shelter again."
     "If only there were some caves or someplace we could stay secure
inside until it was all over."
     "I don't think it's ever going to be over, at this rate," the
captain shook his head.  "I just hope to the Lords that the landrams get
back here safe, and then Komma can pick us all up."
     "You'll have a better chance hoping that their good driving skills
will get them back," Gayla shook her head, "It won't be because of the
fracking Lords or any other felgercarb like that."
     He glanced at her, "Skeptic?"
     "Devout," she managed to pull a cigarello out of her tunic pocket,
and then light it.  Bojay noticed that her hand was shaking.  "As far as
I'm concerned, there are no Lords, and there is no God.  Sorry if that
offends most of the population, but it's just the way I feel."
     "Which I suppose accounts for your salty tongue," he couldn't help
but note.
     Gayla looked at him sharply, "Maybe.  Maybe it's easier to just be
blunt in your choice of words when you're also willing to be blunt about
the whole fracking nature of the universe.  I sure haven't had any reason
to think there's any kind of benevolent deity looking out for me, let
alone the human race."
     "Okay, you've made your point," Bojay now wished the subject had
never come up.  He'd never considered himself particularly religious
either, but he'd never seen this kind of vehemence on the subject from
anyone.  "Let's just stick to the business at hand."
     Gayla nodded, and then her attention went skyward, "Captain, look!"
she pointed.
     Bojay looked up and saw the shuttle descending through the cloud
cover.  The sound of it, and the fact that it was coming in too fast,
immediately told him that the vehicle was in serious trouble.
     "Come on!" he motioned and broke into a sprint.
     The two of them ran across at an angle, trying to bring them close
to where the shuttle would land.  And then, they saw it make a rough
crash landing, utilizing none of its descent brakes.  The vehicle skidded
across the rough, rocky surface before coming to a stop some fifty
metrones away.
     As Bojay and Gayla ran up to it, they saw the hatch blow open, but
no one emerged.  The captain reached it first and hurried inside, looking
frantically toward the cockpit area.
     He could see Komma slumped in the pilot's seat, not moving.  He
hurried over and grabbed him by the shoulder, turning him around.  Right
away, he saw that the Security Guard was conscious.  His eyes open in
what seemed like a glassy stare.
     "Komma?" Bojay shook him, "Komma, what happened?"
     The corporal slowly shook his head, "No good," he managed to say,
"Landram...crashed into me."
     "Landram?" Bojay's eyes widened in horror as Gayla stepped inside,
"You mean one of the landrams got caught up in the cyclone."
     "Yeah," he mumbled, "Struck me.  No way this can fly again."
     "Okay," Bojay tried to keep his emotions in check.  "Did you radio
the Galactica?"
     "They know," he still seemed in a stupor, "They know."
     "Captain," Gayla said quietly, "The beacon."
     Bojay turned around and then slowly nodded.  He reached over to the
instrument panel and saw the telltale red switch that would activate the
emergency long-range beacon.  
     "Okay," he said, "At the very least, the Galactica knows where to
home in on us, even if we can't talk to them.  We might as well...sit
tight and use this place as our base unless another cyclone comes up."
     "Not just cyclones," Komma's words were still a mumble, "More.  More
bad weather."
     Bojay looked at him.  "What are you talking about?"
     "Typhon," he said, "Typhon's headed this way.  Probably be here in a
few...centars."
     "Oh, frack," Gayla said loudly, and then decided the worst epithet
was called for, "Frack, felgercarb and shit."
     Bojay now found her profanity appropriate.  "Okay," he said, trying
to get his command edge back, "Okay, let's get to work fixing the
communicator and see if we can still find out which landram is still out
there."
     "Probably all dead by now," Gayla said with disgust.
     "Well until we've got proof of that, I'm not writing anyone in this
group off!" Bojay suddenly snapped, "So in the meantime, why don't you
get your astrum up here and help us with this comm system!"
     The agro-tech allowed herself a faint smile of admiration at his
blunt outburst, "Yes sir, Captain." she said as she came up to the front.

                         Chapter Five

     The instant the word had come down from the Bridge to all on-duty
pilots aboard the Galactica, Apollo wasted little time stepping forward
to take command of the overall operation.  And he also knew that Sheba's
peace of mind would dictate that she be part of the mission team as well.
     It took Apollo five centons to round up several additional members
take part.  Sergeant Mackin, one of Blue Squadron's female pilots that
had first been recruited prior to the Battle of Kobol would co-pilot the
potential rescue shuttle with Apollo.  Sergeant Lomas from Colonial
Security.  And with just a trace of hesitation, he decided on Cassiopeia
as the med-tech.  Perhaps getting away from the Galactica, and focusing
on a mission would help take her own mind off what Starbuck was going
through.  Sheba, he decided, would pilot the viper that would reach the
planet ahead of the shuttle to try and contact the expedition team on the
surface, and reassure them that help was on the way.  At the very least,
that would let her know soonest what the situation was.
     As he and Sheba walked down the corridor that led to the launch bay,
he noticed that his fiancee was keeping a totally professional demeanor. 
Her head held high, her bearing erect as she held her helmet under her
arm, it occurred to Apollo that she now resembled her father more than at
any other time he'd seen her.
     "You should reach the planet about thirty to forty centons ahead of
us," Apollo said, deciding he should go over the procedure one last time,
"Once you're there, maintain your position above their spot, and keep
your unicom on high-beam pointed down at them, scrambler off."   
     "I know," she said simply.  "Hopefully, they'll have the situation
stable by the time we get there.  Maybe they'll be off the surface and we
won't have been needed after all."
     "I'm afraid not," the voice of Colonel Tigh suddenly interrupted
their conversation as he stepped in front of them, from the point where
the corridor entered into the Launch Bay.  The executive officer's face
was grim, "The situation just got worse."
     "What happened?"
     "We just got an emergency beacon activator from the shuttle," Tigh
said, "No way of knowing what happened to it, but it evidently means
there's little chance of them getting off the surface themselves.  It's
going to be up to you to bring them out."
     "Great," Apollo grunted, "I've got the team ready to do it."
     "From what Komma reported, it could be easier said than done," the
executive officer went on, "The weather seems to be deteriorating so
rapidly that trying to set yourselves down safely could carry too much
risk.  Unless you can guarantee your own safety, your orders are going to
be to stand by in orbit until things clear up.  The last thing the
Commander and I want, is to put more people in harm's way."  He paused,
"Have I made myself clear, Captain?"
     Apollo didn't bat an eyelash, "Perfectly, Colonel."
     "Good," Tigh seemed satisfied. "Good luck with the mission."
     As soon as the executive officer was out of sight and earshot, Sheba
let out a disgusted groan, "What chance do we have for good luck, if we
have to play it too careful and potentially see them all die?"
     "Don't sell Bojay's skills short," her fiancee said, "If they have
to ride things out for a bit, they can do it."
     "Apollo," she cut him off, "Do you know what a cyclone can do? 
Especially when you're out in the open and not in an underground
shelter?"
     He had no immediate response.  Growing up in the fashionable suburbs
of Caprica City, along the sea coast, meant that Apollo had never seen a
cyclone in his life, except on amateur video footage shown on the BNC. 
They had always represented a natural phenomena he'd never been able to
fully comprehend the magnitude of, since he never expected to deal with
one at any time in his life.
     "I'm not selling Bojay's skills short," Sheba seemed to clutch her
helmet more tightly, "But this is something that requires more skill,
because you're not dealing with an enemy you can anticipate or get into
the mind of."
     "Granted," Apollo then instinctively touched her shoulder,
"But...let's not go into this assuming the worst."
     "Don't worry," she allowed herself a humorless smile, "I'm
maintaining the fine line between realism and pessimism.  That's all. 
You do the same." she sighed, "Time for me to go.  I'll contact you when
I reach planet orbit."
     She moved off toward her viper, and it made Apollo contemplate for
an instant how just days before their sealing would finally take place,
Sheba was on the verge of going through another difficult personal
trauma.  She'd been through so many of them in recent sectars, including
an experience of being shot up by the Ziklagi, and then injured by a
would-be assassin.  Now, the one person in the Fleet she was closest to
other than himself was in serious danger with no certain guarantee of
rescue.
     Lords, let things be stable after this, he thought as he headed over
to the shuttle, where the rescue team he'd be commanding waited.  We've
all been through enough.


     "Advance viper is already away, sir," Omega reported.  "Shuttle will
follow in another centon."
     "Thank you," Adama acknowledged the Bridge Officer and went back to
the upper level to go over some additional data he'd been consulting. 
The full details of what Corporal Komma had relayed to them about the
planet during his transmission, now commanded his entire attention,
because he knew he'd have to make a decision as to whether the
deteriorating conditions on the plane