Battlestar Galactica: Takedown Virtual Season 3, Episode 16 By Matt Wiser From the Adama Journals: In my conversations with Captain Byrne about Earth's history, I was amused by the story he told me of a man running for the Presidency of his country, who, during in the course of his campaign, talked about how his country needed after the trauma of a horrible war to "return to normalcy." The word had never before been uttered in Earth's languages before the politician uttered it, but afterwards, it became a commonly accepted expression. In our own situation, we, too, in the Fleet are experiencing our own "return to normalcy." Life in the Fleet has continued as normally as possible since our encounter with the Otaligim. We have seen no further sign of that terrifying race, though we have seen the aftereffects of one of their visits. A once-habitable world was found in a nearby solar system, devastated and laid waste. Fortunately, no signs of sentient beings were found, so it appears that no intelligent life was destroyed in the process. Aside from this, all continues well. Even relations with our Cylon "allies" continue to improve, with Command Centurion Moray requesting access to our historical files, relating to times before the Thousand-Yahren War. While a curious request, it seems to be a part of their growing development as independent creatures. Hopefully, it will continue in a peaceful mode. On another subject, Doctor Wilker tells me that decipherment and decryption continues, albeit slowly, of the data culled from the alien vessel from which we rescued Sergeant Wagner, the Earth woman whom we recovered from cryosleep. While she was not pregnant, the information regarding what would have been done to her, had she been pregnant, makes me shudder. Doubly so, having watched Athena's progress and the birth of my grandchildren. While seemingly Human from the outside, the cold, almost....antiseptically sociopathic attitude towards others, these beings seem to have, towards even those so similar to themselves, leaves me with a growing sense of anger and revulsion. I can also sympathize with Wagner's intense antipathy towards these beings, and even find myself, at times, sharing her desire to wipe out every one of those responsible for these abductions from Earth, all across the universe. "Cylons with meat on them" she called them recently. If the stories of 'alien abductions' from Earth are indeed true, as they appear to be, Lords of Kobol know how many other worlds may have been so treated. While the motive of these aliens still largely remains a mystery, it appears their plans were being brought to fruition by a combined military-religious dictatorship, intent on spreading its dogma by force. With that, I pray that our two peoples never meet. The Tribunal of Laban, captured by Sergeant Wagner and the Constellation's Security Team, in a kidnap attempt on Genesis Byrne, Captain Byrne's daughter, and the Sergeant herself, is still in the preparatory stages. That such a crime was contemplated by one among us, and upon the persons of two people we rescued, is extremely distasteful to me. Doubly so, given the lack of any cause whatsoever by the duo. The Tribunal, which will be prosecuted by Sire Solon, is not expected to take long, given Laban's almost defiant admission. If convicted, he will face a lengthy sentence aboard the Prison Barge. While I am glad that such a violent element has been removed from our general population, I worry that the Barge, in time, may become too full. While I do not wish to see such violent criminal elements reintroduced to our society, neither do I wish the ship to take on the aura of oppression, what Captain Byrne called "the Bastille," for those of our number who chafe at every new restriction or disappointment. And I certainly have no wish to convert another ship to serve as a second Prison Barge. This is a development that Siress Lydia would certainly exploit, She has learned her lessons well from her days as the mistress to Sire Antipas, and her aura as a cooperative Vice-President of the Council masks a cunning and opportunistic mind. She is in no rush to attempt to seize power from me, but is waiting for the correct opportunity to present itself. For now, I must remain on my guard and keep a close eye on her. However, as with most things since fleeing the Colonies, some solution, I am sure, will present itself in regards to the prison population. . Chapter 1: The freighter Adena had clearly seen better days, just as many other ships in the Fleet had, but her crew and passengers had been able to get the most out of the ship and their situation, and the vessel, for the most part, was a happy one at the moment. Though many of the crew, not to mention the passengers, were wary of some who appeared to be keeping an odd schedule, and seemed very touchy about anyone poking around their spaces, they didn't push. Live and let live, after all. With that attitude, there had been very little trouble aboard ship, and as far as the Captain, crew, and other passengers were concerned, things were going as well as could be expected. However, unknown to them, that was about to change. In an exceptionally run-down part of the ship, in two adjoining compartments, crammed between a pair of disused storage lockers, men were at work, feverishly trying to manufacture items that, if they were caught with them, could mean life on the Prison Barge at the very least. Or, if there was some sort of....accident, the penalties would be much more severe-as well as immediate. For in one compartment, the explosives of the sort that had been found aboard the Galactica, as well as several other ships in the Fleet, were being manufactured and formed into charges, while in the other compartment, the deadly nerve agent known as Piiglin was being concocted in a sorcerer's brew of a home-made and otherwise improvised chemical laboratory. In both cases, those engaged in making the deadly product had had to abandon their previous hideouts because of fear of discovery, an explosion that had wrecked the explosives lab-as well as forcing the Fleet to find a new fresh water source, and general paranoia in terms of security. Now, the plotters realized, they were out of places to hide, now that Security was searching ships all over the Fleet, and they were in a race to get as much of their product made and sent to those who would use it, before it was too late, and they were discovered. For if that happened, the plot to restore the true faith and the true path would be doomed. In the explosives lab, the chief bomb-maker was explaining his trade to two bright, but new, students. Though both had been devoted to the cause, the shortage of explosives techs meant that some new hands were needed to learn the fine art of making explosives and building bombs. The man, Plavius, had been in the Colonial Military before the Holocaust, but had left the service a few sectons before that day, medically discharged for "emotional instability". Hmph, he thought. "Emotional Instability?" Since when is believing in the Il Fadim a cause for separation from the service? I'll show them-and if they won't accept the true faith, that's their problem. As for the explosives, many were made from stolen fertilizer, which one of their number had "acquired" from the Agro Ship, while a few others had obtained Solenite charges from Galactica's magazines, usually from cluster munitions. Other than that, the charges were made with chemicals found in the Fleet, and some of them had the potential to be very unstable. Even some Solium had been obtained- a byproduct from the Adena's engines, but the material was very hard to work with, especially without the proper equipment, and had the potential to explode when one least expected it. Still, it was a test, a test that the faithful were expected to pass. In the adjoining compartment, the deadly Piiglin nerve agent was in production, though none of the gas canisters that had been manufactured yet had been distributed. The gas was made in what could best be described as a chemist's nightmare, and the basic ingredients had been clandestinely obtained during the Fleet's RB-33 stop, others had been culled from garbage and cleaning chemicals that had gone awry, but the lab had had to move several times, and production had hardly gotten underway at when a move became necessary, and thus what little gas had been produced was clearly insufficient for what was intended. Enough had been made, though, that if there was any kind of accident, anyone in the compartment would be dead-within microns of exposure. As Plavius was explaining his tradecraft to his two students, two of his proteges' were busy trying to mate a Solenite charge from a CBU to some home-made bombs made from fertilizer. Their worktable was next to a bulkhead that adjoined the chemical lab, and as they worked, unknown to one of them, the CBU charge had gone live prematurely, thanks to being jostled around, and also unknown to anyone, having a detonator that was defective. Plavius showed his new students the charges, the blocks of fertilizer bombs that had already been made, and some of the Solium, and noticed a faint beeping sound. He looked around, and saw a flashing red light on the Solenite CBU charge. "What in the name of Kobol..." Those were his last words as the charge exploded, setting off several of the charges already made, and ripping the compartment-and everyone in it-to pieces, and tearing apart the bulkhead. Microns later, a sympathetic detonation of the Solium ripped the shredded compartment apart again, and this time, the blast and fire tore through the bulkhead and ripped apart the chemical lab, those working in it, and ripping apart two canisters of Piiglin. Though two of those inside had survived the immediate blast and fire, the two lab techs were exposed to the nerve agent, and they died quickly as a result. On the bridge, alarms blaring, the watch officer notified the Captain, asleep in his cabin, who called his crew and passengers to fire-fighting stations. When his fire-fighting team encountered traces of hazardous materials, they had to pull back as they were not fully trained or equipped for fighting fires in such dangerous conditions, and a call went out to the Galactica for damage-control specialists to assist. Aboard the battlestar, Commander Adama had been asleep in his quarters, but had been awakened at the news by Lieutenant Mercedes, the Officer of the Watch. She was one of the new group of officers who, though not qualified for Viper training, were becoming deck, communications, gunnery, and other key officers, as some of the experienced hands were being rotated to serve as instructors. For the new breed, it was, as Captain Byrne had told Adama, "On the job training." When the call came in, she apologized to Adama for waking him, but he waved that off. "No need, Lieutenant. What's the situation on the Adena?" "A serious explosion and fire, Commander, four centons ago.. Cause unknown, though Captain Theron reports they have stopped the spread of the fire, but their fire-fighting equipment isn't suited to HAZMAT Level 3.. He's requesting a fire-fighting party from Galactica to assist." "HAZ....Notify Chief Jorda to get a team ready, and have Flight Operations get a shuttle ready at once." "Yes, Sir!" Mercedes replied. "Very well, Lieutenant. I"ll be there shortly." Adama said. He looked at the chrono on his bulkhead. 0345. Five Centars' sleep. Oh, well, it would have to do. Not since Ki had he gotten up this early. Fifteen centons later, after a light breakfast and a quick shave, Adama came onto the bridge. The night watch, though not as experienced as most of the bridge crew, had things under control. He came up to the OOW's console, which, when he was on the bridge, was his. "Lieutenant, anything new?" "No, Sir," Mercedes replied, still surprised at seeing her CO on the bridge this early in the morning, crisis or not. "The fire team's shuttle has launched, and should be at the Adena momentarily." Adama nodded. "Any word on casualties on the Adena?" "No, sir. Other that some aboard were overcome by some kind of gas," Mercedes reported. "Nature of which is undetermined at this time, hence the HAZMAT alert." She checked her pad, but there was nothing new as of yet. "No doubt others were killed in the explosion, whatever caused it, according to Captain Theron." "Understood, Lieutenant. Get me the Adena at once," he ordered. "Yes, sir. Right away." Chapter 2: Chief Jorda and his team literally jumped off the shuttle just a centon after it had docked. The Adena's Third Officer, who doubled as damage control chief, met Jorda's men and guided them to the affected area. Fortunately, the compartment was near the ventral hull section, and though the Adena's crew had managed to stop the spread of the fire, it would be Jorda's people who would have to extinguish it completely-and find out what exactly were the hazardous chemicals. The Third Officer, Riva, briefed Jorda. "Right now, the fire's contained on Deck Six, the lowest deck on the ship. If it goes down, all it hits is void space, then the outer hull. But it's only three compartments away from the main water recycling plant...." "We'll get it," Jorda replied. After the fight with the Gee-Tih, this had been the worst so far. "All right, boys," he told his men, "Suit up and let's go." "And our people?" Riva asked. He was concerned about the Adena's own fire-fighters. "Have them hold back, but keep us cool. It'll be extra hot in these suits." Jorda told the officer. As Jorda's men headed towards the fire, Captain Theron was on the line with Galactica and Commander Adama. "Commander, right now, we don't know what happened. This came out of nowhere." "I understand, Captain," Adama said. He understood that right now, the cause of the fire was not a concern, but saving the Adena was. "Is there anything else that you need.?" "Sir, we could use some more medical personnel. My third officer says that in fires like this, it's the heat that puts fire-fighters out of action." Theron replied. "Understood," Adama said, recalling past experiences, especially the near loss of the Galactica after Gomoray. "We'll get some of Galactica's people out there right away." On the viewscreen, Theron nodded. "Thank you, Commander. I'll give you an update as soon as possible. Right now, I'm pretty busy." "Very well, Captain. Get that fire knocked down, and give us a status report when you can." "I will, Commander," Theron replied. "Adena out." Adama turned to Mercedes. "Notify the duty watch in Life Station. Have a medical team ready to go to the Adena as soon as possible." "Yes, sir," she replied. In Life Station, Cassie was working the overnight shift. As a junior Medical Officer, she was expected to pull some of the overnight duties, and she took the duty in good stride. Fortunately, the shifts she'd worked so far had been largely uneventful, apart from one emergency appendectomy on a deck hand, and a Viper maintenance petty officer getting some hydraulic fluid splashed onto some exposed skin. This morning, though, that changed when the call came from the Bridge. She responded quickly, getting several medtechs, and a full set not just of first-aid supplies and things like IV fluids, but also several large containers of water. One thing that she'd learned from that Cylon suicide attack after Gamoray, that fire-fighters often got put out of action due to dehydration, and she knew full well that the fire-fighters would need water most of all. After she assembled her team, they went straight to Alpha landing bay, and boarded their shuttle. On the bridge, Mercedes reported to Adama. "Shuttle launched, Commander." Adama nodded. Everything was now in the hands of Jorda's men on the Adena. "Now we wait, Lieutenant." Chief Jorda had gone over the schematics of the freighter, and knew where to position his men. They had managed to get onto both sides of the fire, and fortunately for all concerned, the fire hadn't been able to lap and spread to the next deck. He didn't even bother to wait for the medical team from the Galactica, and as he briefed his team, he said, "Remember, this is a Level 3 HAZMAT situation. Make sure you watch your detectors, and pull back when you're down to five centons' worth of air in your breathing systems. Watch out for each other, and be careful. Any questions?" He saw none, and finished up, "All right, let's get this done." Jorda's men went in and attacked the fire. Their boraton hoses sprayed through the passageway, and the two teams managed to link up after only about twenty centons. Their detectors were still reading some hazardous gases in the air, and strangely, some of it registered as some very powerful cleaning chemicals. Only when several of the team entered a compartment that had been blasted apart did signs of a more toxic gas come. "Chief, we're getting signs of some kind of toxic gas here," one of the team members called. "Not sure what just yet." Jorda had been leading the other team as it entered the adjoining compartment. "How bad?" "Not sure; some of it's fire-related. But there's stuff in this compartment....wait a centon. There's some kind of gas canisters here." The team leader chimed in. "There's about a dozen or so. "What kind of gas?" Jorda asked as his team pushed into their compartment, and found some undetonated explosives. "There's some kind of explosives here." "They're not marked, but two of 'em have been punctured," the team leader responded. Jorda nodded. Right now, this fire was getting under control. But they'd be here a while, making sure that it was completely out-and checking out what was going on here. "Treat those canisters with caution. When this is totally under control, I'll ask for a HAZMAT Team from the Galactica to come and have a look." It would be another two Centars before the fire was completely under control. Fortunately, the water recycling plant had been saved, barely, though these two compartments had been gutted, and another compartment had been badly burned. As Jorda went through both compartments, his chemical sniffer equipment began to pick up traces of a gas that he'd been briefed on, but never encountered personally: Piiglin. And he knew that someone had been making the stuff and hiding it on the Galactica and several other ships. Now it was clear where the stuff had been made. The question now was: Who? Aboard the Rising Star, a young aide went towards a suite in the Elite Class area. Here, several members of the Council maintained their residences and offices, and he soon came to what he was looking for. He pushed the chime on the door, and heard a voice. "Enter!" The young man entered Sire Galerius' suite, and the Sire was enjoying an early breakfast with Sire Elagabalus, both recently elected to the Council, and his main co-conspirator. The two had been discussing, among other topics, how they would maintain order in the Fleet, who could be "purified" and "cleansed" and allowed to remain, and those who would not, or could not, be sent packing. Galerius turned to his aide and said with a good deal of annoyance, "Yes, Sixtus?" "Sires, there has been a....problem." "What is it?" Galerius asked. "There has been an explosion and fire aboard the Adena. A serious one. As you know, both our explosives lab and our chemical lab have relocated to that ship-by necessity due to Adama's security sweeps, and something has happened." "How much damage?" Elglaberus asked, tossing aside his napkin and getting to his feet. "Total, Sires." Sixtus said. "We're unable to contact any of our people on the Adena, and from what Bevan has been able to find out, those in the respective compartments were all killed." "WHAT?" Both councilmen thundered. "Sires, this isn't just a small accident. All of our people on the Adena are dead, as far as we know. We've lost our explosives experts and chemical experts, as well as those faithful who were assisting them," the aide replied. Both councilmen looked at each other. Their plan, The New Order of Purity, which had seemed invincible, and destined to succeed, was collapsing around their ears. Galerius turned to the aide. "Thank you, Sixtus. Notify the others, and tell them not to take any irrevocable actions. They are to continue as normal for now." "Yes, Sire." "You may go." Galerius said. After Sixtus left, he turned to Eglaberus. "Our dream is over. Without the bombs and the Piiglin, we have no way to compel Adama and his minions to step down. It is time to consider alternatives." "If we cannot live in this Fleet, then we must live outside of it," Eglaberus said. After a long pause, he went on, "We must seize a ship-preferably a small enough one that our people can control, and take hostages." "Piracy, you mean." Galerius said. "Stooping to the level of those who inhabit the Cordugo Pit?" Eglaberus looked at his colleague. "No. Here is what I propose. We seize the ship, and demand not only the freedom of those who practice our faith, but to be allowed to settle a habitable world-and anyone in the Fleet who wishes to join us-as long as they follow the tenets of our faith-is welcome." "And if Adama refuses?" "Then we show him we mean business. He-and the ovines who follow him on the Council-will do as we say after that." Eglaberus said. Galerius thought for a centon. Establishing a colony where the faith could be practiced-even with only a fraction of the people in the Fleet, seemed to be the next best option. "Agreed. We must select a target, but it need not be immediate." "And Sherrock?" "That is on hold, for the moment. All is in readiness otherwise." Chapter 3: "What?" Adama was asking Chief Jorda over the com. "Commander, we found evidence of quite a lot of explosives, but also what remained of a chemical laboratory, and canisters of Piiglin. Along with about two dozen bodies in those and an adjacent compartment-where these people were sleeping. Captain Theron's going through the ship's records, trying to ID who these people were. In the meantime, I need one of Galactica's Damage Control Teams, and a full HAZMAT Team as well to get this stuff off the Adena," Jorda reported. "Understood, Chief." Adama said. He turned to Mercedes. Her turn as OOW was just about up, and Omega was due on watch any centon. "Inform Damage Control: get those teams organized and on their way, Lieutenant." Mercedes nodded. "Right away, Sir," she said, relaying the orders. Just as she was doing so, Colonel Tigh came on the Bridge. "Commander," he nodded. "Good morning Tigh. I take it you've heard?" "Yes, Commander. Word travels fast," the Galactica's Exec said. "Explosion and fire on the Adena. Hades of a way to start one's day." "Not just that. Jorda just reported in. It appears we've found the source of not only the explosives, but the Piiglin that we found earlier-thanks to Starbuck's misadventure." Adama said, filling in Tigh on what Jorda had reported. "Commander, if Captain Byrne was here, he'd say 'We dodged a bullet.'" Tigh said, remembering an "Earthism" that was finding its way into Fleet lexicon. "Quite so, Tigh. Speaking of which, get him on the line for me. I'd like to know if he's had any experience on Earth with those who would make these kinds of materials." Adama ordered. Tigh nodded, and spoke to Mercedes. She got the Constellation on the line. As luck would have it, Byrne had just come on duty aboard that ship. "Yes, Commander?" "Captain," Adama said. "We may have found the source of the explosives and the gas." He relayed what had happened aboard the Adena, and Adama noticed Byrne's reaction. The Earth officer didn't seem surprised at all. "Commander, one thing about terrorist or guerrilla movements on Earth, is that their explosives 'experts' sometimes aren't as expert as they think they are. Some of 'em are pretty good at what they do, but others....you may have the same thing here. One mistake, and not only does that individual pay the supreme penalty, but others as well. Were there any civilian casualties?" Byrne asked. "Not to our knowledge, but we're still checking. In your experience on Earth, have you had any first-hand experience with groups who've done this sort of thing?" "No, Commander, only secondhand. I was once stationed in a country that did have a cult release a homemade version of a nerve agent in that country's capital city: it killed a dozen people and injured thousands-some permanently." Byrne said. "What kind of cult?" Adama asked. "Their world view would be called 'doomsday', Commander. They thought that the gas attack would start a chain of events that would lead to nuclear war and their cult taking power in what was left of that country." Byrne said, recalling those days at NAS Atsugi, outside Tokyo. "It didn't work out that way: the cult was broken up, their leaders arrested and tried, and the cult's 'supreme leader" and several others condemned to death for mass murder." "I see, Captain." Adama said. "One other thing, Commander: that kind of attack is what gives intelligence and security agencies bad dreams, and those in charge of those agencies sleepless nights. Nobody wants a repeat occurrence." Byrne replied. "Naturally," Adama nodded. "Thank you, Captain. Has there been anything else found on the Constellation?" "My DC people have gone over the ship twice: nothing. Laban just had what he had when we found him." Reported Byrne. "And all we found were a couple more empty smuggling compartments." Adama heaved a sigh of relief. One more ship clear. "The Lords be praised for that. Thank you, Captain." Byrne nodded on the monitor. "Glad to be of help, Commander. Anything else? "Not at present." "Very well, Constellation out." Aboard Constellation, Byrne turned to Dante, his Exec. "What do you think that was all about? " "Don't know, Sir,. 'Doomsday cults?'" Dante replied. "Maybe these guys blew themselves all to Hades?" "I'd like to think so, but I doubt it." Byrne replied. Though the thought greatly appealed to him, given what these slime had in mind for his daughter. "On Earth, terrorist groups often have the leadership separate from the technicians-like experts in explosives and chemicals, not to mention the rank and file. These scum are probably doing the same thing here." "So what does that mean?" The Exec asked. "They'll come up with a backup plan," Byrne said. "Scum of this sort always do. Whatever their original plan was, it's over before it started, and now they have to come up with something new." "Like what?" Dante asked. "Their only man here is now in Galactica's brig, and that scheme to kidnap Jena or Sergeant Wagner to exchange for Sherrock is there with him." "They'll think of something. Uh-oh... That reminds me," Byrne said. He'd come to a realization with Dante mentioning Sherrock. "Get Commander Adama back for me, and patch this to my cabin." "Sir?" "They can't exchange Sherrock for someone, and he must be pivotal to their original plan, so guess what they'll try next?" Byrne asked his Exec. It came to Dante. "Snatch him?" "That's what I'd do, if I was a zealous nutjob, " Byrne said. "Next best thing. Get me the Galactica, Mr. Dante. I'll be in my quarters, and patch this there. You have the deck." Dante nodded. "Sir." In his cabin, Byrne waited for the connection to Galactica. Now that the cabin Jena and Sergeant Wagner shared was no longer a crime scene, things were getting back to normal. And when he toured the ship, as he felt that the best way a captain knew how the crew was doing was to see for himself, Byrne could tell that the Constellation was a happy ship at the moment, and that people were breathing easy, now that Laban and his deadly cargo were now off the ship-for good. Then the monitor came to life, with Commander Adama's face filling the screen. "Yes, Captain?" "Commander, there was something else I wanted to mention to you, but I wanted to do so privately." "Of course, Captain," Adama said. "Say what's on your mind." "Sir, now that the plot to kidnap my daughter-and Sergeant Wagner-has been dealt with, those creeps behind it are going to look for another way to get to Sherrock. If terrorist groups on Earth are any guide, if they can't grab someone to exchange for him, they'll have a fall-back position. I expect they'll try the direct route. And snatch him." Byrne told the Commander. "You think that's a serious possibility?" Adama asked. "Yes, Sir, I do." Byrne responded. "In their position, I'd do the same. One thing our counterterrorist courses back home taught me: to stop a terrorist, you have to think like one." Adama thought for a centon. Terrorist incidents in the Colonies had been few and far between, though in the pre-Unification past, they had been much more common. The closest thing anyone had done to counterterrorism was the Colonial Fleet's anti-piracy campaign. And even that had yielded mixed results. But a for-real terrorist group? Other than some of the more extreme Il Fadim sects-and several other groups of religious zealots-those groups had been run to ground over the yahrens. But now....."Understood, Captain. What do you suggest? "How about moving him, and his therapist, if he has one, to a more secure location? Either Galactica, Adelaide, or Constellation would do." Bryne suggested. "And it needs to be kept as secret as possible." "A sensible precaution, Captain. I'll have Colonel Tigh see to it." Adama said. "Thank you, Captain." "Sir." With that, the link was broken. Bryne went back to the Bridge, where he found Dante waiting. "What'd the Commander say?" "He thinks it's a good idea to move Sherrock. He may be coming here." Byrne said. "Though that's not a given. Our Life Center's got room, correct?" "Yes, Sir, we do. Dr. Rena's been pretty bored of late-other than one of the civilians giving birth a couple days after the Laban affair, she and her medtechs haven't had much to do." Dante said. "If Wagner had shot Laban, then she'd be thinking different," Byrne noted. "All right: let her know that she may be getting a temporary resident in one of her wards. No need to tell her who-until we know for sure he's coming here. Things are more secure on Galactica, but let's have her get ready, just in case." "Right away, Sir." Chapter 4: Staff Sergeant Lauren Wagner had been aboard the Galactica for two days, helping Croft's troopers with their small-arms training. She and Lieutenant Castor had taught four of Croft's men to be instructors, just after the Laban affair had concluded, and now, she was back, offering some advice, and reviewing their progress. And Croft, to no great surprise, had taken to the firearms like a duck to water. Like Castor, Tellus and several others had been the same. Now, most of the SF Team was, in her opinion, qualified on all of the weapons she had introduced. Now, though, the training was more tactical in nature. She was reminding her students-and it was hard to think of them as students-but when it came to firearms, they were-of some of her Combat Security Police training, as well as what she'd picked up from her boyfriend on Earth-who'd been a member of the Montana State Police SWAT Team. If Jerry could see me now, she wondered. Shaking her head at the thought, she went to see Croft in his office, and she also had something for him in the bag she carried. . "Major, got a few?" Croft nodded. "Always, Sergeant. Come on in." Croft ran an open door policy-any one of his troopers who needed to see him could do so, at any time. She smiled at that:her CO in the 120th Security Police Squadron at Great Falls had done the same. "What can I do for you?" "Not much more: your training's gone pretty well, as far as I can see. Tactically, there's not much difference between working with a laser and working with any of the suppressed weapons-which is what you wanted stressed most of all." Wagner said. "If you can see it, you can kill it." "Any further advice?" Croft asked. "I'll demonstrate it this morning, but it's not who you shoot, but where you shoot.." "Let me guess: where to put the slug...I mean the bullets on target where the most damage will be done." the SF leader said. It was not a question. "That's right, Major." Lauren said. "Today, it's either head shots, or center mass if a head shot isn't possible, or practical." She'd learned that when she was in the active Air Force, and had been taught what the Soviet Spetsnatz was capable of. Croft nodded. "And if you're using a suppressed weapon, the target won't even hear the shots that killed him, right?" "Right you are, Sir." She replied. "They're knocking on the Devil's door before they know what hit'em." "I like the way you talk, Sergeant. If you're interested in training alongside us, and if you think you can keep up, we'd be glad to have you for a secton or two." "Thanks, Major. Good to learn something new. I'll keep that in mind." Wagner said. "Right now, though, I'm busy enough as it is." Croft understood: these Il Fadim nuts hadn't gone away, and from what he'd been briefed on, they had crossed the line to becoming a full-blown terrorist group. He also knew that Wagner had a nasty fight with one of them, and she'd nearly given the Boray a personal firearms demonstration in her own cabin in the process. If she had shot Laban, then nobody would be questioning the value of one of her weapons-not to mention saving Sire Solon and his people a lot of work. And Castor had told him that she had killed one of those who'd been found with explosives aboard Galactica. Word was going around that Wagner was not to be trifled with as a result. "It's a standing offer, Sergeant, so if you've got your hands full now, but want to wait until later, that's not a problem." "Thank you, Sir," she replied. "Oh, before I forget. This is for you to have a look at." Wagner reached into her bag and pulled out one of her spare BDUs. "You've noticed I'm wearing one of these multi-camo uniforms. If you guys have to hit a planetary surface again, having something like this might be useful." Croft took the uniform and studied the pattern. "Multipurpose, you say?" "Yes, Sir. Woodland, jungle, urban, and desert. There's only one area it sticks out, and that's the Arctic." "Where'd you get them made?" Croft asked. He noticed the workmanship was first-class. "Jasen, over on the..." "Rising Star. I know him," Croft said. "I'll let him know he's got another customer for these." Sergeant Wagner nodded. "He did keep the pattern. Just let him know, Sir, and he'll deliver." He handed back the uniform. "I'll order some from him. Now, you're due back on the Constellation after lunch, so we'd best get going." She smiled-and Croft noticed it was the same grin she had when she had initially demonstrated the weapons a couple of sectons earlier. "Let's go, then." She then picked up the MP-5 that she'd been using and hit the tactical range, giving a demonstration in tactical shooting that her old CSP instructors, not to mention the Sheriff's Department back in Great Falls, would have approved of, showing exactly where to place the rounds where they would do the most damage-and do so without wasting ammunition-meaning three-round bursts if at all possible. Croft and his troopers picked it up immediately, for when it was their turn, she had little to complain about in terms of their marksmanship. Aboard the Adena, Jorda and his men were busy starting some of the cleanup when the Damage-Control Team and the HAZMAT specialists arrived. The HAZMAT Specialists went in first, to clear the gas canisters and the explosives, and nobody envied their job. Though it wasn't likely that the remaining explosive charges would go off, no one was taking any chances. Via a video feed from the team leader, Jorda watched as the robot camera went into the rooms, then the specialists gingerly placed the gas canisters into their protective drum, and carefully returned to the landing bay with their precious-but hazardous-cargo. Then they returned for the explosives, and the same great care was taken with the charges. And one of the specialists noted that on at least two of the charges, unexploded CBU munitions were attached. After the EOD people checked them over, then the serial numbers could be matched to see where those charges had come-and who had access to them. After the HAZMAT team finished and headed off to the Galactica with its deadly cargo, Jorda waved the DC Team in. Though there were no hull breaches, deck and bulkhead plates needed to be checked to see if the fire had weakened them, and the wreckage needed to be cleared away, along with the bodies. Nothing was moved, though, until it had been imaged and scanned. Only then did the DC Team go in. As the team did so, most of them saw things they'd seen before-especially those who'd been in the DC trade prior to the Holocaust, and all of the Cylon encounters, and the fight with the Ziklagi, since then. Others, though, were seeing the aftereffects of a major explosion and fire for the first time, and the ghastly sight sickened them. One of the men, Garth, had joined the service once he'd turned eighteen, and he'd also become devoted to the Il Fadim. But, as he helped carry out the charred and mangled bodies of those killed in the explosion and fire, he began to have second thoughts. Those thoughts were shared by two others, Zek and Freya, who were also assisting with the cleanup. They had both still young, and very impressionable, and had thought the Il Fadim to have some good points. Now, they realized with a sickening heart and a queasy stomach, this wasn't what the movement had promised. Their role in whatever plan was being hatched was to see that the explosives were placed, and it had been stressed that the threat alone would bring the Fleet into their hands, and a new dawn on a new world, with the people living according to the tenets of the faith, would begin. Now, all three realized, that wasn't going to happen, and that some of the more long-term members had gotten to the point that they were more than willing to use the stuff-on their own people. And Garth promised then and there, Not if I can help it. This ends. As soon as possible. And if I have to testify against them at a Tribunal? So be it. And these three weren't alone: unknown to Cassie, whose medics had been receiving the bodies after the cleanup began, two of her medtechs had come to the same conclusion. Domna and Talia, both of whom had also recently joined the service, had seen the result of what the movement had been preaching-and both now had sick stomachs. When Cassie asked how they were holding up, Talia said, "Not good, Doctor. For both of us, this is our first time." And Cassie knew the feeling: her first emergency call after she qualified as a medtech after the escape from Carillon had been not an attack, but a Viper crash-not only had the pilot been killed, but two deckhands had been mangled by flying debris, and she had had a hard time keeping down the contents of her stomach when she saw that. It was the beginning of her toughening-up process. "I know the feeling. We've all been there and done that. You get used to it. Sad, but true." "Thank you, Doctor," Talia said. "We're good." Nodding, Cassie went off to check as more bodies-and parts of bodies-were brought in. And Zek was helping bring in one. He saw Domna, and came over to her, whispering, "This wasn't in the plan-whatever it was." "We know. I'm out, whatever that plan was," she replied. "And Talia, too." "It's more than that," he whispered. "You know what we'll have to do?" And he had already promised to himself that whatever it took, this plan was over. The two medtechs looked at each other. Their eyes met, and both nodded. Domna said, "Nobody else dies because of this. Cleaning up after Cylons, Ziklagi, or whoever, that's one thing. But doing this to our own people?" "They are not our own people! They are the spawn of the Evil One!" The leaders had said that over and over. Like a mantra, or a post-hypnotic suggestion. Not human. But Domna couldn't, wouldn't buy that. Not now, not after this. "How many do you know?" Zek asked. He knew at least a half-dozen who were involved. And there were rumors of other cells. "Eight," the redheaded medtech replied. "ZEK!" Jorda yelled. "Quit romancing the medtechs and get back to work! You can smooch with them all you want after the job's done!" "Coming, Chief." He turned to Talia. "If it means testifying against them, I'll do it." Both medtechs nodded. "Same here. All right, we'll talk later. Get back to work," Talia said. Back in the remains of the chemical lab, Garth had come to the same conclusion. And though he didn't know who had come up with the plot, seeing the aftermath of what those explosives and gas could do had made him sick to his stomach. This isn't for purity, or the betterment of humanity. This was insanity! No more, he said to himself. Not if I can help it. If it means going to Sire Solon or Commander Adama and naming names, and providing the contents of his PDA, well, it'll be worth it. Across the Fleet, back on Galactica, Technician Hummer was busy in the battlestar's main lab, checking some items on a shelf. He'd been taking a break not only from the work on the alien translation, but he was getting ready to crack Laban's PDA, when he saw something flashing, under a cloth. "What the..." he said, pulling off the cloth and finding the severed head of Commander Septimus, the dismantled IL-Series Cylon, and noticing some lights still flashing. "Who left this on? Lords....," he said as he clicked a relay, and thus deactivated a passive sensor node in the head. He set it back down on the shelf, covered it back up, then went back to his work space. Laban's PDA now demanded his attention. He connected the device to his computer terminal, and began to unravel its secrets. The encryption might have made civilian computer techs back in the Colonies have trouble, but to him, it was easily done, and not only was a complete record of the messages ready, but the addresses. Even though some of the senders were using a code, he now knew where the messages had been sent from. Most, it appeared, came from the Rising Star, though a few others came from Galactica, though the identities remained unknown. Not for long, Hummer thought: he had a flair for what Captain Byrne called "hacking" into computers, and that had earned him not only the praise of his fellow computer enthusiasts, but the attention of Caprican Security, as some of the databases he'd broken into involved certain government agencies. At his court hearing, he'd been given a choice between time in the military or time in prison, and he hadn't been given much time to make a decision. His record since joining the service showed that he'd made the right choice, five yahrens ago. After printing out the message contents, Hummer then began tracing the origin of the messages to Laban. Not just from Galactica or Rising Star, but from whom. It would take a while, but sooner or later, he'd find out. No packet routing or hidden address was safe from him! Aboard the Rising Star, Sixtus was looking for Sire Galerius. He found the Councilman on the Promenade, keeping up appearances, and talking things over with some constituents, who, had the plan been able to go ahead, were likely to have been exiled from the Fleet, given their support for the military. He tapped Galerius on the shoulder. "Sire, a moment, please." "Excuse me," the councilman said., "This won't take long." Galerius went over with Sixtus into a corner, and growled, "What is it?" "Sire, we've lost our source in Wilker's lab." "What? Are you sure?" Galerius asked, momentarily raising his voice. "Sire, I've run multiple checks. How, I don't know. But that source is no longer available to us." Sixtus reported. "How could....that demon Adama. Hades Hole! He's one step ahead of us right now." Galerius said, with more than a hint of disgust in his tone of voice. "There's no way to know, Sire." "Have you informed Sire Elegabalus?" "No, Sire, I came straight to you. Have I done wrongly?" "No. Sixtus, you've done well." The aide let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Sire." Galerius took a deep breath. Right now, it was necessary to keep up appearances. "All right, Sixtus. I don't like it, but inform those who are to go after Sherrock. Hold off for now. He's still in his assigned location?" The young aide nodded. "As far as we know, Sire." The renegade councilman nodded. "Excellent. Let them know. Take no action without prior approval. The new plan's security depends on it." "Yes, Sire. And Sire Elegabalus?" "I shall inform him myself, Sixtus." "Very well, Sire." "Go, now. Be discrete, though." Sixtus nodded and left, mingling in with the crowd as he did so. Galerius went back, ever the charming "man of the people," and yet, silently fuming at yet another setback. Chapter 5: In his quarters, Adama had made his decision. Captain Byrne was right about moving Sherrock, but where to? The Galactica was still being searched, and given the size of the battlestar, it would still take a few more days to make sure the ship was totally secure. The Adelade was in the process of being searched, and though Commander Allen had reported nothing being found, that ship was still not considered secure, and until every member of this conspiracy had been identified with certainty, no other ship could be considered secure.. That left Constellation. He then called the Bridge. "Bridge, Commander Adama. Colonel Tigh, please. "Yes, Commander?" Tigh responded. "Colonel, have an escort sent to deliver Sherrock, and his therapist, to the Constellation." The Exec replied, "Right away, Commander. Sergeant Wagner has been giving one of her weapons courses to Croft's men, and she could handle that." "Hmm. That may be so, but if Captain Byrne is right, there may be those who do want to snatch Sherrock. Inform Major Croft: have Castor and a small team accompany her. They're to escort Sherrock to the Constellation, and he'll remain there until this situation is resolved." Adama said. "Yes, Commander." Croft hung up the telecom. What's this about? Sergeant Wagner heading a detail over to Constellation? Though Castor outranked her, she was in charge of the detail. That wasn't new: rank often deferred to experience in Special Operations, but something in Tigh's voice made him wonder. He shrugged, and called them into his office. Wagner, and Castor came into Croft's office. He noticed that Wagner seemed upset: she was packed and getting ready to head back to her ship, and was wondering what was going on. "This is a little unusual, but this just came from Colonel Tigh: on your way back to Constellation, you've got a detour. Castor and three troopers are coming along, because you're to pick up Sherrock and his therapist and take them to Constellation. And you're in charge, Sergeant." Sergeant Wagner looked at Castor, then at Croft, "Sir, what's this about? Isn't this Sherrock now just a mental patient, one who's supposedly harmless?" "Colonel Tigh didn't say, but my guess is that someone thinks that Sherrock ought to be in someplace secure," Croft said. "I'll admit, I'm wondering why, myself?" "Sir, if these Il Fadim nuts are like some of those we've dealt with on Earth, they want Sherrock out-and they may try anything to do it. A lot of cults need a figurehead, someone to rally their followers. So, yeah, snatching him is a possibility." Wagner said. "Pirates have done the same thing, Major," Castor said. Before coming to Galactica prior to the Holocaust, he'd been on a number of anti-piracy operations. And on several occasions, pirates had attacked ships taking pirate prisoners back to the Colonies for legal proceedings, and twice, had snatched prisoners from those ships. "I know, Lieutenant," Croft reminded Castor. "It's happened more than once. Anyway, take three troopers, and head on over to the Machaon, that's Hospital Ship #2, and pick up Sherrock and his therapist. Then you'll deliver them to the Constellation, where they're to stay until this is over." "Yes, sir." Castor replied. "Sergeant Wagner's in charge, though. It's her ship, after all." Croft added. Castor nodded. "No problem, Major." "Any problem, Sergeant?" Croft asked. This was a first for her, as far as he knew. "No, Sir. Has Captain Byrne been told?" Wagner replied. "Not as far as I know. Colonel Tigh will be waiting for you in Alpha Bay, with a written order. Everything you need to know will be in it." She nodded. "Very well, Sir. When do we go?" "Immediately," Croft said. "Get three troopers, then head down to the Bay." "Sir," she saluted crisply, then turned and headed out the hatchway. After corralling three troopers, and picking up some hardware from the armory, the team went down to Alpha Bay, where to Lauren's surprise, the shuttle Armstrong was waiting, with Ensign Adele standing next to Colonel Tigh. She went up and saluted, "Sir." Tigh nodded. "As you were, Sergeant. Everything you need to know is here," he said as he handed her the paper with the Commander's written order. He watched her as she scanned it. "Any questions, Sergeant?" "No, Sir," Wagner replied. "We show this to the Administrator on the Machaon, pick up Sherrock and Marci, his therapist, and bring them to Constellation." "Good," Tigh said. He did notice, though, that the quartet was armed. She was carrying one of her assault rifles, and had her heavy-caliber pistol, while Castor and the troopers had their laser rifles, besides their laser pistols. "Is that necessary?" "Sir,that depends on the opposition," Wagner responded. "If these creeps have anyone on the inside aboard the Machaon, they'll see that we're dressed for the occasion-that is, heavily armed and expecting trouble, they won't try anything stupid." Tigh looked at Castor and his troopers, who nodded in the affirmative. "I quite understand, Sergeant." He turned to Castor. "You're to report back here once Sherrock is safely aboard the Constellation." "Yes, Sir," Castor replied. Tigh nodded. "All right, carry on, then." Adele then waved them aboard, and everyone got strapped in. After receiving clearance, the Armstrong sailed out of Alpha Bay and headed to the Machaon, designated as Hospital Ship #2. During the trip, Adele asked Wagner, "What's this about?" "Once we get to the Machaon, you'll know. Security, you understand." The blonde ensign nodded. "Suits me, Sergeant. It's a bit strange, though. You're in charge, from what the Colonel said. A little unusual, isn't it?" "Not to me, Ensign," Castor said. "In SF, rank often gives way to experience. And on Earth, she's had to transfer prisoners in her 'law enforcement' job." "That's right. Sherrock's not a prisoner, he's under our protection. But the principle's the same:get him to his destination alive and in one piece." Wagner told the ensign. "Well, anything the Commander wants is fine with me," Adele replied. "You think the world of Commander Adama, don't you?" Wagner asked. "Oh, yes. None of us would be alive today if not for the Commander, Sergeant. He saved us when the Holocaust happened, and many a time since then." Wagner nodded. Not long after settling in aboard Constellation, she'd viewed the recorded videos from that day. She still shuddered at the thought of the likely body count. "From what I've seen, he's quite a man. He could teach some of our leaders back home a few things. You guys are lucky to have him." "More than you know,." Adele replied. "Okay, everyone. Get strapped in, because we're getting ready to land." She contacted the Machaon, and received permission to land. When the shuttle landed, they noticed that someone was waiting for them. It was Administrator Licinius. "Ensign, if you'd wait here, please," Wagner said. She disembarked from the shuttle and went to the Administrator, "Sir." "You must be Sergeant Wagner. That strange uniform gives you away. Don't worry, I've seen you on IFB," Licinus said, with a hint of a smile. "Thank you, Sir." Wagner replied. She gave him the paper, "This is from Commander Adama." "He told me to expect you, but not why." Licinus said. Then he read the paper. "This is...unusual. Why do you need to move him? And bring Marci, his therapist?" "Sir, orders are orders. The Commander thinks some of his old friends may want to retrieve him. And if they've got someone on this ship, working from the inside...," said Wagner. "The fewer people who know about this, the better. And if they do see us armed and expecting trouble, they'll forget about trying." Licinus looked at her. Before he'd gotten his doctorate in Psychology, he'd been in the military for a few yahrens. "I was a medtech on the Solaria, once. I understand, Sergeant. Let us go: the sooner we get this done, the better." She waved to the shuttle, and Castor and his team came off. They followed Licinius to into the ship. To Lauren, it reminded her of a time when she had to take a prisoner to a State Hospital in Great Falls-the guy had plead not guilty by reason of insanity to a murder, and she and her partner had to escort the guy to the hospital for his court-ordered evaluation. Though they were armed, the team kept their weapons slung over their shoulders, but they could easily get them within microns. Then they arrived at Ward #4. "Here we are. I'll get Sherrock and Marci. I should tell her, though: how long should she expect to stay away?" "No way to know, sir." Wagner said. "Hopefully, this Il Fadim business won't be for very long. Once it's resolved...." "Of course," the Administrator said. "She does go to other ships, so she always has a bag packed with her. I'll be a moment." Licninus went to Marci's office, and the two then went to, and entered, a patient room. They then returned with Sherrock. "Mr. Sherrock?" Wagner asked. "Yes...What's going on here? They tell me I have to move to another ship?" Sherrock replied, his tait shuffling and slow. He appeared quite confused, but not quite the raving lunatic Wagner had seen on the old recordings.. "It's for your own protection. Some people may wish to do you some harm. And until that's been taken care of, you'll be quite safe on another ship," Sergeant Wagner told him, keeping her voice calm and even.. "You'll be quite safe," the redheaded woman next to him, Marci, said. "I'll be with you, and we can continue your treatment." Sherrock nodded. "I really don't understand," he said. He might have been discussing a show on IFB, or the weather, "but if you say I have to go..." "We need to," Marci said. She nodded to Wagner, and the party headed back to the docking bay, noticing the curious looks they got from other crew and medical staff. The trip back to the docking bay went without incident, and they quickly got into the shuttle. Licninus asked Wagner. "You handled that well, Sergeant." "Thank you, sir." Wagner said. "Not my first, however." "You can tell Commander Adama that Sherrock's removal from the ship will be explained as his needing a full medical exam, and that needing some new surroundings might help his recovery," the Administrator said. "That's good, Sir. Any plausible cover story should work. But if anyone asks, please, let us know who. Those Il Fadim creeps are still dangerous...." "I understand, Sergeant. I'll do just that." Wagner waved the group aboard the shuttle. "We'll let you know, sir, when it's time for him to come back." And then she got into the shuttle, and noticed that Castor had already strapped everyone in. She did so herself, and Adele fired up the engines, received departure clearance, and flew out of the docking bay. The trip to Constellation was a quick one, and within centons, the Armstrong was in the Constellation's docking bay. The hatch opened, and Lauren got out onto the deck. She noticed Metxan and Paulson there, waiting, and then she saw Captain Byrne. Lauren saluted, "Permission to come aboard?" Another Navy tradition that had a Colonial counterpart. "Granted. Welcome back, Sergeant," Byrne said. "You have the package?" "Yes, sir," she said, and waved to the shuttle. Castor and his men escorted Sherrock and Marci off the shuttle. "Metxan, Paulson, escort our two guests to the Life Center. Dr. Rena is expecting them." "Yes, Ma'am." Mextan said, and they escorted the two out of the bay to the Constellation's Life Center. Byrne looked at her, and Castor. "Any problems?" "No sir, not one. "Castor replied. "It could've been worse: Sherrock could've come kicking and screaming." "Been there, done that," Lauren replied. "Had to do that once, a yahren before the aliens grabbed me. No fun at all." "No doubt," Byrne said. "Castor, Ensign Adele will take you back to Galactica. Report personally to Commander Adama, and tell him the package has been delivered. No problems or issues." The big lieutenant nodded., then saluted. "Consider it done, sir." Byrne returned the salute, and Castor and his people headed back to the shuttle. Before he got in, he gave Lauren a wink and nod. She waved back, then the shuttle fired up its engines and flew out of the bay. "Seeing Castor under more, shall we say, private circumstances, Sergeant?" Byrne asked. Then he regretted it. It wasn't his business, after all. She looked at her CO. "No, sir. But if he's got a crush on me, well....I won't say no to a date, at least." Byrne let out a laugh. "I understand, Sergeant, That's how it got started with Jena and Sire Pelias. But I did tell him: 'If you make my daughter cry, councilman or not, Sire or not, I'll make you cry." Lauren stared at her Captain. "And what'd he say to that, uh, Sir?" "He just laughed, saying that there was a saying just like that, back in the Colonies. And he knows not to get a father angry." Byrne changed the subject: "How are Croft's guys doing?" "Almost all of them are qualified on both pistols and the MP-5. Half on the long guns. Castor and the others I trained as instructors can take care of the rest. I do want to go back a couple of times to check on their progress, but if they have to go into combat tomorrow with those pistols and the MP-5? I'd say they're ready." Aboard the Galactica, Hummer was in his lab, cracking Laban's PDA. He had finally traced the addresses and routings of the messsages in Laban's inbox, and he was surprised at what he found. Not just from where, but from whom. This can't be right, he thought. I need to verify it with another. He went to where Gallinos and Pelonis' PDAs were stored, and their encryption was easier to crack. Either they were very inexperienced, or just didn't care. The same routings and addresses came back on those as well. "Lords of..." Not just Sire Solon needed to see this, but the Commander as well. "Bridge, this is Dr. Wilker's lab, Technician Hummer. I need to speak with Commander Adama. It's very urgent." Chapter 6: In a little-used, and nearly forgotten, compartment on the Galactica, two dozen people were meeting. A mix of young men and women, all had, at most, two yahrens in the service, and only one was an officer. They came from all over the Colonies, but had one other thing in common: all had been involved, at some point, with the Il Fadim-and its plan-whatever that was, but now, these two dozen were about to break with the sect-totally and completely-and not only betray what they knew, would gladly testify at any Tribunal. Garth, one of those who'd been on the Adena damage-control party, started. "This has gone on long enough. What were we doing or thinking when we joined this, this, sect?" "I''d say we thought it was for the betterment of humanity," Freya, one of the other DC techs, said. "Not to mention getting off these ships for good and settling down someplace." She snorted, "We must have been smoking one of Starbuck's wacky fumarellos." "Remember what they said?" Domna said. "We were told that the bombs and gas were only a threat, and that would be enough. NO! From what we saw on the Adena, they're perfectly willing to use that stuff, and on our own people!" "We haven't done anything actually illegal," Ensign Naeva, the only officer, pointed out. "Remember that, though." "Yet," Zek replied. "A good protector would say all we heard was talk-and no action. But now...." his voice trailed off, remembering the ghastly sights of charred and broken bodies and body parts, scorched and blasted compartments, and several victims twisted and contorted by the gas. "Zek's right," Talia said. She, too, had been having nightequas about what she'd seen on that ship. And had vowed that it wouldn't happen again. Not if she could help it. "So what now?" Ganius, a Viper mechanic, asked. "We go to Sire Solon and Commander Adama," said Garth. "Ensign, since you're an officer, you can ask the Commander, or Sire Solon, for a meeting." He saw her nod. "And then?" "Then we tell them everything. And I mean everything," Garth said, and he noticed almost everyone nodding. "Names, meeting places, any caches, and everything else we know about this, this, insanity." "There's one other thing," Domna said. "We ask for full immunity from prosecution. Like you said, Navia, we haven't done anything illegal." Heads nodded again. Then Talia spoke. "Something else: we all promise to break, totally, with the Il Fadim from this moment on. All we want, when this is over, is to resume our lives. And our duties, and do them the best way we know how." "Does anyone disagree?" Garth said. No one objected. "Then let's go ahead and do this." In the lab, Adama was stunned by what Hummer had told him. "You are absolutely sure about this, Technician?" "Yes, Commander, I am," Hummer replied. "Not just from Laban's PDA, but from the two that Castor and Sergeant Wagner caught. After getting the information from Laban's, I verified it with the other two. All three checked out." Adama went over the printouts that Hummer had brought. Not since the revelation of Sire Uri's treachery at Brylon IV had anything even remotely similar come about. But the printouts told it right there. Two members of the Council were directly implicated in the plot to kidnap either Captain Byrne's daughter, Sergeant Wagner, or both, and exchange them for Sherrock. "Have you informed Sire Solon, Technician?" "No, Sir. Not yet." Hummer said. "I'm not a legal expert, so I thought I should come to you, first." Then he heard the Telecom buzz. "Excuse me, Sir," he said as he went for it. Adama thought for a centon while Hummer took the call. These two members had made very few allies in their time on the Council, and had been what Captain Byrne called "sore losers." Given how the Council had not only welcomed Byrne, Jena, Commander Allen and his wife, along with Sergeant Wagner, not to mention the Zhorloch refugees, he wasn't all that surprised. Both were known for their ill-concealed dislike of "outsiders" and Non-Humans. Still, printouts from three PDAs weren't enough. Sire Solon would need more before any charges could be filed. "Commander?" "Yes, Technician?" Adama said. 'Sir, Sire Solon just called. There's a number of people who say they're involved in, well, whatever this is, and they want to talk to the both of you." Hummer told the Commander. "They're waiting in his office. "I see...all right, then. Please inform him that I'll be right there, and as for you, Technician," Adama said. "Sir?" "Well done. I want you to forward this to Sire Solon's office at once. Make as many printouts as you think are necessary, and make sure those PDAs are securely stored." "Yes, Sir!" When Adama got to Sire Solon's office (which, in pre-Holocaust times, had been the office of a Fleet Legal Officer), he found two dozen members of Galactica's crew, headed by a young female officer. All came to attention, and then the officer spoke. "Commander, all of us, here, have been involved with the Il Fadim, to varying extents, and, well, they're up to something. Something very disturbing and nasty." "I see, Ensign." Adama turned to Sire Solon. "Have they told you anything yet, Sire?" "No, Commander, not yet. They all asked that you be present as well." Solon replied. Adama nodded. Finally, they'd get to the bottom of this. Whatever "this" was." "All right," he said, pulling up a chair. "What's been going on? And please, start from the beginning." He looked to the official recorder, nodded, and they began. Ensign Naeva did. She had been one of the few female officers who had attended a meeting, and the only one who came back for a second. Naeva related how that the others had pushed the idea that the Fleet needed to be "purified" of all "sub-Humans and those who claim to be humans." And then, the plan, which was called The New Order of Purity, was meant to force Adama and the Council to step down, the Fleet would be purged of those "disloyal, inferior, and impious elements", Baltar's ship destroyed in a sneak attack and then the Fleet would settle a habitable world, living under the Tenets of the Il Fadim, in a strict theocracy.. "And the means of forcing the Council to step down would be these explosives and gas?" Solon asked. "Yes, Sire," Garth said, speaking for the first time. "Sire, they told us that the mere threat of using the bombs and the gas would be enough to do just that. But what I saw on the Adena, with the explosion and fire...," his voice trailed off. "Sire," Talia said. "Several of us were on the Adena damage-control and medical support details. Burned bodies and body parts, and several more victims who'd been exposed to the gas. If that stuff had been used, say, on the Rising Star..." "No need to go into detail," Adama said. He knew from experience what that nerve agent could do, as he'd seen several planets during his career that had been laced with the gas by the Cylons. Adama looked at Sire Solon and nodded. "So, what do you all know?" "Commander," Naeva said. "We can give you and Sire Solon names, meeting places, some caches, and the contents of our PDAs." She pulled hers from her pouch, and handed it to the Commander. "Everything we know. Before, it was all talk and no action. Great concepts, cloudy idealism, but no. Now, it's different. They've crossed the line, and we want no part of it. All of us are willing to renounce the Il Fadim, turn State's Evidence, and we want to resume our lives and go on with our duties. All we ask is that we receive full immunity from prosecution." Adama looked at Solon again. Even if Solon wouldn't go along, he, as President of the Council, had the power to grant a full pardon, and wipe anyone's record clean. "Sire?" Solon looked at those waiting. Though he generally didn't like making deals, on a case like this, he did know that if he wanted to get the big piscerions, the true ringleaders, he'd have to make such a deal. And as a scholar of the law, he also knew that these people had done nothing that was technically illegal. As long as it was talk, they were exercising their free speech rights. And once the line had been crossed from talk to action, these people wanted no part of it "You'll tell everything that you know, from the beginning." Solon saw their heads nod. "And if called to testify at a Tribunal, you will do so?" Again, heads nodded. "Very well." Then one of Solon's aides came in. "Sire, Technician Hummer is here. He's got something for you. He wouldn't say what it is." "You'll want to see this, Sire," Adama said. "He's already shown this material to me, and it's...disturbing." "Send him in," Solon said, nodding. Hummer came into the room and saluted.. He recognized several of the group from the Mess Hall, but didn't pay much attention. Then he came to Solon and Commander Adama. "Sire, Commander, here's the printouts from the PDAs of Laban, Pelonis, and Gallinos." He handed the material to Solon. "Thank you, Technician, for your work." "Sire," Hummer nodded. Then he saluted, turned and left the room, leaving Solon to review the printouts. "This isn't possible." "Sire, that was my first reaction. But he checked his work, repeatedly. There's no denying it." Adama said. "There is a definite trail." "Unfortunately, it's not enough to charge them, Commander," Solon said, shaking his head. "We need more." He turned to the group. "Did any of you meet with either Sire Elegabalus or Sire Galerius?" Heads shook no, and several said, "No, sir." But Domna, though, had heard both names. "Once, when I was meeting someone on the Rising Star, when I had a three-day furlon, those two names were mentioned as being in the movement, and they were mentioned as leading the Fleet after seizing power.." "I see..." Solon said, going over a printout again. "Did anyone that you talked with, on the Galactica or another ship, mention a kidnapping?" Again, heads shook no. Though several did mention that the others were hoping that Sherrock would be back in his proper place, leading the movement. "Very well. It's going to be a long day, so why don't you all be seated, and in a few Centons, we'll get started." "We'll be glad to, Sire," Naeva said, and heads nodded. "Sire, you'll be a busy man today," Adama said. "Now, I have to talk with Captain Byrne and probably Sergeant Wagner." "May I ask why, Commander?" Solon asked. What could two of the Earthers have that could be of help, he wondered to himself. "Sire, no one else in the Fleet has any kind of counter-terrorism experience or training. They do. We haven't had a real terrorist group in the Colonies for deca-yahrens, renegade religious sects notwithstanding." Adama paused, then went on. "And Captain Byrne and the Sergeant are the closest thing we have to experts in this field. There are Warriors, such as Major Croft and Lieutenant Castor, with experience in counter-piracy operations, but this is different." "Understood, Commander," Solon replied. "I'll keep you informed. This may become less of a legal matter and more of a Security one." "I realize that, Sire, and it may become that sooner or later." And Adama knew full well that it was coming. With that, Adama shook hands with Solon, then left for his cabin. He needed to have a private talk with Byrne-and Wagner, too, right away. Aboard Constellation, Byrne went into his ship's Life Center. On his way in, he encountered Dr. Rena, his ship's Chief Medical Officer (and his only one). "Doctor." "Captain," Rena replied. "I wasn't expecting you." "I just wanted to see how your two special guests are settling in," Byrne said. He wanted to know if there was still a potential security risk, for even having Sherrock aboard might cause a problem-not from Sherrock's friends, but any enemies. "So far, everything's fine," Rena said. "Marci even offered her services to any crew who, for whatever reason, needed someone to talk to. As for Sherrock, no problems that I can see. He's really quite harmless at the moment. We've discussed children's water-color folk art, flower beds, and so on." Hearing that, Byrne smiled. So far, no problems-and with luck, it'd stay that way. "Good. Tell Marci that if she needs anything that you can't provide, I'll see what I can do." "Of course, Captain," Rena said. "So far-" She was interrupted by a call from the Bridge. "Bridge to Captain Byrne." Byrne went over to a telecom. "Byrne here, go ahead." It was Alyssia, the duty communications officer. "Sir, there's a call for you from the Galactica. Commander Adama on the line. And he's also asking for Sergeant Wagner as well." "Very well. I'll take it in my cabin, and have her report there immediately." Chapter 7: In his cabin, Byrne waited for the connection to be made. What did the Commander want now? A status update on Sherrock? His thoughts were interrupted by the chime at his cabin door. "Enter." Sergeant Wagner came in, in her sports bra and shorts. This was the time in her work day that she usually spent in some physical training, sparring with one of her Security crew, or with Mr. Malik, getting back into top shape after her long sleep and her brush with illness.. Now, though, she was also teaching Jena some basic self-defense moves, and despite Laban now stewing in the Galactica's brig, both Byrne and Wagner felt that teaching Jena some self-defense techniques was still a good idea. Right now, though, she was sweaty and tired, and just wanted a shower and a cold drink. But that would have to wait. "Sir?" "Have a seat, Sergeant, and put a load off your mind," Byrne said. "The Commander wants to have a talk with both of us." "What? Excuse me, Sir, but what's up?" Byrne looked at his Master-at-Arms. "Your guess is as good as mine, Sergeant." Then the monitor came to life, with Adama's face showing. "Commander?" "Captain, Sergeant," Adama said. "I see the Sergeant's been keeping in shape?" "That, Sir, and teaching Jena some self-defense moves. After the Laban affair, we thought it might be a good idea." Wagner said. "A very commendable suggestion," Adama replied. "Now, the reason I want to speak with the both of you, is the simple fact that you two are the only two people in the Fleet with any kind of counter-terrorist experience." "What about those Otori renegades, Sir?" Wagner asked. "Point taken, Sergeant, and we're drawing up some anti-terrorist protocols, and thus your experience is needed. Yes, Croft and a few others have done some anti-piracy operations, but that's different." "Indeed it is, Commander. Pirates-whether waterborne, or in your case, spaceborne, are generally more interested in making money than in some kind of political or religious cause," Bryne pointed out. "Quite. Now, Captain, you told me earlier that 'the best way to stop a terrorist is to think like one.' Do either one of you have any ideas as to what may come next, now that Sherrock is secure, and we're making progress on these explosives?" Adama asked. "Commander, they could still try a kidnapping. In their place, I would. Just because Jena and the Sergeant are no longer targets, that doesn't rule out the tactic: they could try a member of the Council, or as much as I hate to think of it, children. Even your grandson. Right now, they want Sherrock out, and they don't care who's in the way or who suffers. Even a child would be a means to an end for them, Sir," Byrne told the Commander, and he could see Adama cringe. "That's possible, Captain?" Adama asked, dreading the idea of something happening to Boxey. "I can't rule it out, but yes, Sir, it's very possible," Byrne said. 'He'd be an easy target, and they won't even have to take him off Galactica." "I see." Adama said. He was now thinking of suggesting to Apollo that Boxey stay away from Instructional Period for a few days, maybe even bunking with Blue Squadron's pilots. It had happened before, and the squadron had practically adopted the young boy. "Sir, there's something else they might try," Wagner said, speaking for the first time. "What is it, Sergeant?" Adama asked. "Say whatever's on your mind." "Sir, on Earth, there have been terrorist groups that seized commercial airliners, and even once, an ocean liner." She was recalling the Achille Lauro hijack in 1985. "They usually try to gain the release of imprisoned comrades, demand publication of a manifesto, maybe get a ransom, that sort of thing." "They'd still be in the Fleet, though," Byrne pointed out. "Not only would they know it, but everyone in the Fleet would be on the lookout for them." "But what if they don't want to stay in the Fleet?" Wagner asked. "It's more like piracy, but these people obviously had some kind of plan, whatever it was, and it's now compromised. Not to mention that some of their key people are likely dead, and others are locked away." "Go on, Sergeant," Adama said. "Yes, Sir." she replied. "They spent a great deal of planning and effort into this, well, it's practically a coup, for want of a better term. You don't invest this much time and resources into something like this without having a backup plan, and having an escape plan if all goes bad." Adama digested that. It reminded him of what Sire Uri had in mind while at Brylon IV. "Continue," "Then, Sir, most likely, they take a ship, or two, maybe three, even. Not only do they demand release of their comrades, but they also want their own ship," she said. "How'd you get the idea for that?" Byrne asked. "That puts the old hijackings in the '70s and '80s in a different light." "Sir, my deputy, Mextan, told me. We've been talking about this since Laban's capture, and have been thinking about what we'd do in the bad guys' case." "What else would they want, Sergeant?" Asked the commander. "Mextan told me that these people had a plan-whatever it was-that is now compromised. If they can't impose whatever they want on the Fleet-they want a ship of their own so that they can take off, and live their lifestyle unmolested." Wagner said. "In the Fleet? They'd be the most-hated people around," Byrne pointed out. "Sirs, I know that, you know that, but they don't," Wagner said. "These people-and I do use that term loosely-are so blinded by their ideology, whether it's political or religious, that rational thinking is not on the agenda. Some of the European terrorist groups in the '70s and '80s-the Red Army Faction in Germany, Action Directe in France, or the Red Brigades in Italy all come to mind. The SLA in the U.S., as well. Trying to bring about the 'People's Revolution' when nobody-other than a few hundred sympathizers-was interested." "So does Al-Qaida," Bryne noted. Memories of 9-11 suddenly came back to him. "Commander, if these scum seize a ship, they could do anything-even use it for a suicide attack." Adama paused. He'd seen what Byrne had shown him of the 9-11 attacks in New York and Washington, D.C., and it would be worse in space. Images of ships rammed and blown to bits, even the Galactica, crossed his mind. "What else could they do?" "They could also seize a ship, and just plain take off on their own. The possibilities are numerous if that happens." Byrne said. "And it's quite possible there's some habitable planets in range of even some of the smaller ships, Sir." "I see, Captain. I'll inform Major Croft, and have him start preparing for several possible scenarios. If they do try something, we'll be ready." Adama said. "I hate to say this, but it may be possible that we'll need your advice and counsel in the future, until this is resolved." "Yes, Sir," both Byrne and Wagner said. "Whatever Sire Solon develops, I'll make sure you're kept informed. Do you have anything else to add?" Byrne looked at Wagner. She shook her head no. "No, Commander, not at this time." She paused,. "Sir, there's something else: this transporter you've got, from the Zykonians? We don't have the technology for it on Earth, so it never came to me earlier." "Yes, I see your point, Sergeant. I"ll have Security posted at every unit in the Fleet. That's officer thinking, Sergeant." Adama said. "Just doing my job, Commander," replied Wagner. "It's a potential weakness in any security setup. They've got to have it factored in. I would." "Very well, Captain, Sergeant.. Thanks to both of you." And with that, Adama broke the connection. Captain Byrne looked at his Master-at-Arms. "Ever think you'd use that counter-terrorism training?" Wagner shook her head. "Not since Desert Storm, Sir. Did a three-year tour from '84-87 at Ramstein Air Base, where the Red Army Faction was a threat. And there weren't any Iraqi-inspired terrorist attacks in Saudi when I was there." "That's true." Byrne recalled. "All right, Sergeant. Get yourself that shower, then go back and brainstorm with your Security people. Start thinking like the bad guys again, and give me a list of possible targets. If these scum are going to be stopped, before anyone else gets killed, we need to be there ahead of them. Remember: the good guys have to be right all the time. The bad guys only need to be right once." "Right away, Sir." Aboard the Galactica, Adama thought about what Byrne and Wagner had told him. A suicide attack? Up until then, only Cylons had done things like that, he knew all too well, but seizing a ship and using it as a weapon against fellow Humans? Fellow Colonials and survivors? It seemed inconceivable Things like that, he thought, had been relegated to the per-Unification past. And kidnapping Boxey? He called Apollo and Sheba and asked them to come to his quarters. A few centons later, they arrived. "Father," Apollo asked, wondering what was up. "What's going on?" Sheba, too, had a questioning look on her face. "Sit down, both of you, and when I'm finished, you're likely to need a stiff drink." Adama said. He then outlined what Byrne and Wagner had just told him. "Borays!" Sheba yelled. "Those gallmonging, dirty.." "Precisely my sentiments, Sheba," Adama said. "Only I wasn't as... descriptive when I was talking with Captain Byrne." "So what should be done, Father?" Apollo asked. "Blue Squadron actually has two bunkrooms, correct?" "That's right, Father," Apollo said. "One for the male pilots, and one for the females. The female room has more bunks than pilots, and they do connect....." his voice trailed off as he remembered. "Good. Sheba, tell Boxey he'll be staying there for a few days," Adama said. "Yes, Commander. He's always glad to be with his big brothers and sisters." Sheba pointed out. "I'll talk to his teachers, and get his homework for a secton or so." Apollo nodded. "What else did Captain Byrne say, Father?" "You won't like it," Adama said, and he filled them in on everything both Byrne and Wagner had told him. "Mother of Kobol..." Apollo said. "When's the last time someone even thought about things like this? Someone rational, I mean." "Pre-Unification days, I'd imagine," Sheba said, recalling an Academy history course. "Some of the Colonies had terrorist groups of their own in those days, and they were pretty vicious, if I recall my Colonial History professor.." "Precisely," said Adama. "Pass the word around to all of the pilots, verbally if possible. Watch for any strange activity that a Fleet ship makes. Note anything unusual. And talk to Orion; have his pilots be on the lookout for the same. I'll brief Baltar myself." Apollo nodded. "Yes, Father. I'll tell the squadron commanders." "Good. Apollo, Sheba, I hope these precautions are unnecessary, but it's better to be safe than sorry." And Adama saw his son and daughter-in-law nod agreement. Given Sheba's recent difficulties, it was good to see. On the Rising Star, the two renegade Councilmen, along with their aides and several key members of the movement, were discussing possible targets in Sire Galerius' suite. Galerius was running the meeting. "We can rule out the Rising Star: it's too large to control, and there's too many places for people to hide." Galerius said, addressed his fellow conspirators. "Even if we had everyone in the movement, it would be too difficult." Hahn, one of those among the faithful who was ex-military, agreed. "Sire, one other thing:it's too obvious a target. I'd suspect it at once, if I were in Adama's place." "Excellent point, Hahn." "I presume that also rules out the other large liners, correct?" Elegabalus asked. "It does, Sire," Hahn said. "They share the same attributes, or weaknesses, as the Rising Star: too many people to control, too many unsecured access points to vital systems that could be overridden and used against us, many places where someone who might try and fight back could hide, and so on. We need a ship that can be controlled with only two dozen or so of the faithful." One of the aides spoke up. "How about the Agro Ship or one of the tankers?" Arminius, another ex-military man, shook his head no. "They're also too obvious. Adama and his demons will have extra security on those ships. As appealing as it would be to have the Agro Ship, I'd advise against it, Sires." Both renegades nodded. Then Galerius spoke. "That also goes for the Celestra, the Recycling Ship, and the rest of the specialized ships; again, obvious targets, and their crews will be on the alert for anything unusual. You agree, Hahn?" "Completely, Sire. We need one of the freighters that's carrying passengers, or one of the smaller liners. Large enough for us to control effectively, and with enough passengers and crew aboard to provide enough bargaining chips. And, if necessary, some examples to be made of, should such a course of action be needed." "Yes, but that shouldn't be necessary," Elegabalus said. "What about the passengers and crew when we find a habitable world?" Sixtus asked, speaking for the first time. "Those who wish to join us, and live according to the tenets of the True Faith, will be welcomed. The others, let them follow the Fleet on this foolish quest to find a primitive and backwards Earth." Galerius said, seeing his fellow councilman nod. "They ought to be liquidated on arrival," said Mussert, a former merchant captain who'd been rejected by the military, after the Holocaust, and never forgiven Adama for that. The reason? A couple of his former crewmen had joined the military prior to the Holocaust, and they told Adama about his savage temper and near-tyrannical treatment of crew. He'd been rejected for service in the military for that reason, and he never forgave or forgot. "No! Absolutely not," Galerius said. "I will not have the faith stained by such a massacre. Had we succeeded in our original plan, those exiled from the Fleet could continue this quest. Let them do the same." "They can be useful in other ways," Mussert said ominously. "We will need workers." And his tone of voice made Galerius queasy. Then Sixtus spoke up, having just checked his PDA. "Sires, I have two pieces of bad news. And you're not going to like either one." "What is it, Sixtus?" Galerius hissed. It had been a long and trying day. "First, I've heard from our only source on the Machaeon: Sherrock has been moved. Where, he does not know," Sixtus said, reading from his PDA. "What? And when was this?" Elegabalus shouted. "Sometime early this afternoon. A Security detail from the Galactica took Sherrock, and his therapist-" "His programmer, you mean," Hahn said. More like snarled. "Enough," Galerius said. "Please go on, Sixtus." "Thank you, Sire." Sixtus went on. "Our source doesn't know where, but a rumor did say that the Earth woman led the detail." "That...bitch," Elegabalus said, almost explosively."That fracking, mong....., " He spewed a string of vile epithets, then caught hold of himself and calmed down. "Now, no thanks to Laban, Captain Byrne will be doubly vigilant for any attempt to retrieve Sherrock, and any such attempt is likely to meet with disaster. Damnation!" "Assuming he's actually on the Constellation," Mussert said. "Where else would he be if that whore was leading the detail?" Galerius asked. "Go on, Sixtus." "Yes, Sire. We've also lost touch with about two dozen or so of our people on Galactica herself. Now, if they've cracked the PDAs of the two who were found the day after Laban...." "They're identifying people and picking them up. More of our people we can expect to be compromised.," Elegabalus muttered. "Adama! He's getting ahead of us, but how?" "That's beside the point. Now, we've only got two or three left on the Galactica," Galerius said. "If that. All right. Sixtus, I have a job for you." The young aide nodded. "Sire?" "As an aide, you can find out how many are on each ship, correct? As well as the type of ship, no?" Sixtus nodded. "Of course, Sire. The clearance is far-ranging." "Good. Find some small liners or large freighters, and see which might fit our bill. Perhaps the Piz Goria, or the Tip Barge, might fit the bill. Can you do it tonight, and have a report tomorrow?" "Certainly, Sire. I will have a report for you by 1200 tomorrow. Is that satisfactory?" Galerius nodded. "It is, young one. Go, and do your work well." "Sire." Sixtus bowed and left the suite. "Now, it's been a long day. Let us rest tonight, and take up this challenge in the morning. It is a challenge, sent to us by the Lords, but we shall persevere," Galerius said, and he saw the rest nod. "Indeed we shall persevere," Elegabalus told the others. "We have been tested before, and we shall come through yet again." The others nodded and left. But Elegabalus remained behind. "And what of the Zohrloch slime?" "I"ll let Bevan go ahead. He's been anxious to try again since the first attempt to sabotage Sargamesh's Viper failed. Maybe his actions can divert Adama's attention from what's really happening. Maybe even focus on the Otori for a while," Galerius said. "I hate to have to throw him away, but we need time to finalize our plans, and frankly, there's no choice." He looked up at his fellow councilman with a half-smile.. "Sadly, there are casualties in war. Bevan will just have to go." "Poor thing," Elegabalus said, pouring both of them a drink. Chapter 8: Aboard the Galactica, Commander Adama knew he had to get in touch with Baltar and brief him, as distasteful as that might be, then in the morning, he'd have to inform some of the Council, such as Sires Pelias and Xaviar, and Siress Tinia. And, he knew, informing those on the Council that two of their fellow members were involved in High Treason and Conspiracy was not going to be an easy meeting. Still, at least Baltar wouldn't present any problems....hopefully. He called up on the Telecom, "Bridge, Commander Adama." "Omega here, Commander." "Get me Baltar, please, on the secure channel. And I'll take it in my quarters," Adama ordered. "Right away, Commander." While he waited, the irony of this wasn't lost on Adama. He was contacting the Traitor to all Mankind to inform him of conspiracy and treason on the Council, and to be on the lookout for the guilty parties. He shook his head, and within two Centons, the connection was made. "Good afternoon, Adama. What can I do for you?" Baltar said. "Good afternoon, Baltar. Right now, we may be facing a very serious problem-one that neither one of us has dealt with before." Adama then outlined what had been discovered so far, and the measures taken to counter it. And the traitor didn't seem surprised when Adama mentioned who was likely leading the plot. "Back in the Colonies, I knew Galerius was....eccentric, shall we say. A dandy and esthete, certainly. However, the term 'religious zealot' is one I would not have used to describe him," Baltar said, recalling past run-ins with the man several yahrens before the Holocaust. "So he's involved with that....sect, for want of a better word?" "Apparently so, Baltar. And Elegabalus?" Adama asked. The more information about their backgrounds that might give a motive, the better, he knew. Baltar shook his head. "Unfortunately, Adama, I never met him personally. But I do remember him being described about six yahrens ago as 'a scoundrel who could kill his own father and mother.' He was calling for his home colony to be ruled by a theocracy, if I recall correctly. It was even whispered in some circles that he wanted his colony to secede from the Colonial Union." Baltar paused, then remembered something else. "He also had a strong dislike of any non-Humans, to put it politely. Not just Cylons, but any and all non-Human races. Not to mention anyone Human not born in the Colonies themselves." "That, I do remember well. The part about killing his parents would not surprise me, though," Adama said, recalling Elegabalus' past. "He ran unopposed in the Council elections, as did Galerius, and so..." "I see. That is....unfortunate. Is there anything you need of my ship?" Baltar asked. Adama nodded. "As a matter of fact, yes. I'd like your sensor operators to watch the Fleet and notice any unusual ship movements, transmissions, anything out of the ordinary. The same would go for your pilots when departing and returning from patrol." "Of course, Adama. I'll inform both Moray and Orion, and we'll keep a strong watch. And if a ship does look like it's on a suicide run, even if it's not headed our way?" "You may fire, but to disable only for the moment. For now, firing to destroy is only a last resort. If, however, a target ship is in imminent danger, use your best judgment. I'll discuss this further with Colonel Tigh, and most likely Captain Byrne again as well. He and Sergeant Wagner are the only two real counter-terrorist experts we have, and they've been very helpful in this." Baltar nodded. "Understood, Adama. I'll inform Moray of that as well. Is there anything else?" "No, not at this time. I expect we'll have more in the coming Centars and days," replied Adama. "Yes, these things aren't dealt with in a single Centar, like a vid-show drama," Baltar said, trying not to laugh. "Thank you, Adama, for keeping me informed." "You're quite welcome, Baltar," Adama said. "Have a good evening, and please give my regards to Ayesha." He saw the traitor nod, then the connection was broken. Adama then notified Tigh and Croft to come to his quarters. After they arrived, he filled them in on what Byrne and Wagner had told him. And replaying the briefing with Baltar, and his having Boxey stay with Blue Squadron's pilots for a few days, something that the boy eagerly assented to. Tigh was dumbstruck when he heard. "Suicide runs?" He asked. Other than Cylons, this was virtually unheard of. "Yes, and I must admit, I was just as surprised as you are," Adama said. He looked at Croft, who was just as amazed. "Major, your thoughts?" "Commander, I thought this was all left back in the pre-Unification days. My Academy History course mentioned some very nasty terrorist attacks on Caprica, Sagitaria, and several other Colonies back then," recalled Croft. "Now, though....those Il Fadim have brought that back." "I'm afraid so. Now, Major, I want your Special Forces team to be on alert. Start training to retake a seized ship, or to do a hostage rescue if they do try a kidnapping," Adama ordered. "This might be a good time to do some more training with your new firearms." "Yes, Commander. We'll be ready for whatever develops." "Good, Major." Adama said. He turned to Tigh "Colonel, have all Bridge sensor operators watch for anything unusual amongst the Fleet. Any unusual movements, strange transmissions, anything out of the ordinary." "Yes, Commander," Tigh replied. "And coordinate with the scan crew aboard the BaseShip.I told Baltar this, so you'll know as well: If a ship has been seized, and appears to be on a suicide run towards another ship, fire to disable. Only if it's a last resort is firing to destruction authorized." Tigh nodded gravely. "Understood." Adama paused, then spoke softly, "Let's hope that won't be necessary, and that such an order is never given." Later that night, in Green Squadron's bunkroom, Bevan quietly got up. He was determined to see this through, and even if he didn't live to see the plan finished, at least he would have gotten rid of two of the Zohrloch sub-Humans in their midst. He slipped out of the bunkroom, and went down the corridors, passing Blue Squadron's area, where he could hear a child's voice amidst that squadron's pilots. Bevan remembered that Captain Apollo had a son, and that the boy often enjoyed being with that unit's pilots. Dismissing that thought from his mind, he passed one of the women's billets, then went down to Alpha Landing Bay, and slipped into a locker room used by Maintenance personnel. There, he found an entrance into a crawlspace used for maintenance of things like electronics, the ship's ventilation system, and so on. He changed from his battlesuit to coveralls used by Viper mechanics, and in a bag that he'd left behind, found what he was looking for. Bevan picked up the two small packages, and put them in a tool bag, then went down to the hangar. There, he walked over to where Red Squadron's Vipers were maintained, before the fighters were placed in their launch cradles. Having done this before, he knew which two Vipers to look for, and as fortune would have it, both ships were still sitting on their landing gear, instead of being in the launch-ready position. Smiling, Bevan went underneath the first Viper, as if he was working on the ship, and he went to work. Knowing Viper schematics backwards and forwards, Bevan found what he was looking for. He then took out the charge from his bag and spliced a wire from the charge into the fiber optic relay that controlled the turbos. Then he attached the charge to the main fuel tank, and once that was done, he closed up the maintenance panel. Once that ship was done, Bevan went over to his second target, and repeated the process. Once finished, he went back, changed back to his battlesuit, and returned to his Squadron's bunkroom. On the way, he found his squadron commander, Lieutenant Giles. "Sir?" "What's up, Bevan?" Giles asked. "You should be in your rack." "Couldn't sleep, Sir. Just trying to walk it off and see if I can't get sleepy," Bevan replied calmly. "I never was the read-a-book type." "I know the feeling," Giles replied. "Just like pre-mission jitters. When you get back to the bunkroom, just try not to wake anybody, okay?" He was headed off to his own cabin; as a squadron commander, he rated his own quarters, and had been glad to finally get a squadron command for that reason. At least I won't have to put up with Jolly's snoring anymore, he thought. "Yes, Sir." Unbeknownst to Bevan, a very bored maintenance petty officer working the night watch had been in Red Squadron's office in the landing bay, and had noticed his activities. The Petty Officer quickly checked the maintenance log, and noticed that both Vipers had passed their hundred-Centar checks only that afternoon. Curious, he went over to the first Viper, Lieutenant Sargamesh's, he knew, and began to check out the ship. Within a few Centons, he'd found what had been...installed in the Viper. He then went and checked Ensign Korl's as well, and found the same item. The young Petty Officer then called his CO, Captain Boomer, who immediately came down. Boomer took one look at what had been found and called Security, and for an EOD team. The EOD team took its time, and with assistance from Red Squadron's Maintenance Chief Petty Officer, removed both explosive devices and disarmed them. After they left, Boomer was talking with his CPO, Manchin. "We're lucky that petty officer was on duty, otherwise..." "Yes, Sir," Manchin said. "But whoever did it might be back. And he's going to have the surprise of his life when he sees those two Vipers launch-and nothing happens." "You've got that right," Boomer said. It had been a long day to begin with, and he wanted to go to bed and have some...intimate time with Athena before turning in. "Let's keep this quiet: only tell your counterparts in the other squadrons. Maybe, just maybe, we'll be able to nail whoever did this, when he sees that launch." Manchin nodded. "And Master Chief Varicia?" It was Varica's deck, after all, in both Alpha and Beta Bays. "Let him know as well. And he'll be watching everyone and everything with the eyes of a rapton, until whoever did this makes a mistake. And gets caught," Boomer said. "And they will. I'll inform the Commander." "Got it, Sir." Manchin said. Still, he was dreading talking to Varica: the man was very protective of his deck, and would probably want to kill whoever was responsible. "I'll tell Sargamesh and Korl, too," Boomer decided. "Not much else we can do until morning, while the Security guys do their thing . Carry on, Chief." "Yes, Sir." In his cabin, Adama was about ready to retire for the night, when Boomer called him from the landing bay, and Adama had Boomer come up to brief him personally. "You're sure about this?" Adama asked when Boomer had finished. "I am, Sir." Boomer replied. "Somebody put bombs in both Vipers; and both are usually assigned to Sargamesh and Korl. I've double-checked the numbers, just to be sure. Both of their ships were targeted." "There was an attempt at sabotage of Sargamesh's Viper when we discovered Captain Byrne," Adama reminded Boomer. "Is it possible that it's the same perpetrator?" "I don't know for sure, Commander," Boomer said. "Though I'd lay some serious money on it. But all I know about those kind of people was what I saw on that vid-show about crime-scene techs." "You and a lot of others," Adama said, remembering that show. For some reason, there were reruns of that show on IFB, and they were very popular. "But it's possible?" "Yes, Sir, it is," said Boomer. "He failed the first time, and then decided to go for something that would've worked-if not for a sharp-eyed maintenance petty officer who noticed someone working on the two Vipers when there shouldn't have been.." "Thank the Lords for that," Adama said. "Those charges could easily have gone off in the launch tubes Has Security told you anything?" "No, Sir, not yet." The Commander nodded. "It's early enough in the investigation that they won't. Not until morning, I'd say." "Yes, Sir," agreed Boomer. "Have you discussed this with Sargamesh and Korl?" Adama wanted to know. If these two found out who had tried to blow them up, that person's life was, given the Zohrloch mentality, in grave jeopardy. "Not yet. I wanted to talk with you first, Commander." Adama nodded. "Very well. Just remind them that if they do get involved in apprehending whoever the responsible party is, it's preferable that he be taken alive." Boomer understood that. "I'll tell them just that, Sir. And that it's kind of hard to interrogate a corpse." Chapter 9: The following morning, Lieutenant Castor came to Adama's quarters, just as the Commander was preparing to go to the Bridge. He had some new information on not only what had been uncovered by those who had turned on the Il Fadim, but the previous night's incident. "Commander, we've found the remaining caches of explosives on this ship. Several of those who've been talking knew where stuff was being hidden, and their information checked out. And a couple of other...conspirators have been taken into custody," Castor reported. "Good, Castor." Adama was visibly pleased at that. Now, he could consider the Galactica free from the threat of bombs, but was she secure? Not until this plot had been completely rooted out. "And the sabotage?" Castor nodded. "We've got fingerprints, Commander. Several good ones. The lab people should be getting a match any time now. It's not like we've got a huge database to check for a match." "Quite so," Adama thought aloud.. "And the explosive devices themselves?" "Well, Sir, they were made from the same material as the home-made bombs on the Adena, but the primary triggering charge was Solenite-based. That could only have come from the Galactica, and we're checking the ordnance stores to see where exactly the charge could've come from." Castor reported. "And there's quite a lot of people with the clearances and access to get into that area of the ship," Adama noted. "Yes, Sir." Castor said. "The detonator, though, was a nasty piece of work." "How so?" "Well, Sir, the detonator was wired to the Turbo controls, but had a twist: the first time the Turbo button was engaged-at launch, the charge was armed. Only when the Turbo was engaged a second time was the charge detonated. If it happens in space, out on deep probe, say, no witnesses, no evidence, nothing," the Security Officer said. "A perfect murder, in other words," Adama said. "And no actual threat to the Galactica at launch." "Yes, Sir," replied Castor. "A very neat, but nasty, piece of work, as I said." "Very well, Castor. Keep at it, and keep me informed once you have something new. I'll be on the Bridge." "Sir." In Red Squadron's ready room, Boomer was talking with Sargamesh and Korl. Both had been stunned to hear what had been found in their ships, but were now very determined to find whoever was responsible-and teach him a lesson, preferably a fatal one. "That dishonorable slimeworm! Whoever he is, I will thrash him to within centimetrons of his worthless life!" Sargameh roared. "And then I shall stomp him into the deck plates!" Boomer looked at him, and at Korl. Both were visibly angry, and for very good reason. While assassination of various individuals was not uncommon in the Eridese military, it was usually carried out on the orders of the State or Military Security apparatus. Since this was a part of the endless power struggle that was Eridese politics, someone as low in the command chain as Sargamesh or Korl would hardly come under such scrutiny. But this! To target someone in this fashion, in what was apparently a personal animus, without even a face-to-face defiance, without accusation or challenge, was deeply dishonorable....It filled him with fury! Korl snarled, "Rip the slimeworm's heart out!" "I know this is a hard thing to do, but take it easy! Both of you. We'll find whoever it is, and if you're around, both of you can help apprehend the perpetrator," Boomer told the pair. "It will be a pleasure, Captain," Sargamesh hissed, struggling to keep himself under control. "He will regret this." "Just remember this, Lieutenant, Ensign: the Commander wants him alive. It's kind of hard to interrogate a corpse. Try and keep that in mind," Boomer reminded the two. The two Zohrloch warriors nodded. While their tradition demanded the head of the guilty party-literally, they also knew to obey orders. The perpetrator might not be dead, but the pounding both silently promised to inflict would make whoever it was beg for death. "Yes, Sir," Sargamesh said, while Korl nodded. A pity, though, that they would not be able to handle the interrogation themselves: Something like this back on Eriadu would warrant the kind of "interaction" where the screaming gave out before the body did-if the subject failed to talk. "Good. All right, you two,go and fly your maintenance check flights. Not only have your crew chiefs double-checked your Vipers, but Master Chief Varica and myself have as well. And when you come back, we may know who did it," Boomer told them. "Yes, Sir!" And with that, the two got their flight helmets, then went down to the launch bay, where their ships sat in their launch cradles. After the preflight checks and routine, both Vipers launched normally. In Green Squadron's office next to the bay, Bevan watched, trying not to show any concern. So far, as far as he was concerned, things were going as he expected. He was also listening in on their com chatter, expecting that chatter to end in a burst of static as the charges went off. To his great surprise, though, nothing happened. They had hit their Turbos more than once, and the charges should have detonated. What had gone wrong? After a half-Centar, the two Vipers came in and landed. Bevan watched the two sub-Humans climb out of their ships, go over to Decon, and after that, have a talk with the LSO, then the Squadron Leader's debriefing. If you don't succeed, he knew, try again. Could the detonators have been faulty, or what? He'd check things out-when nearly everyone else was at lunch. Back in Red Squadron's office, the two were debriefing their flights with not only Boomer, but the Squadron's Maintenance Officer. No problems or issues had come up, and these two fighters would be back on the flight schedule that afternoon. Both Zohrloch had been about to leave when Lieutenant Castor came in. "Captain," he said, addressing Boomer. "I've got something for you." "Lay it on me, Castor," Boomer replied. "We've got an ID." Later that morning, as most of the pilots and deck crew headed off to lunch, only a skeleton crew remained on duty. Those unfortunates had their meals brought to them, whether they were pilots sitting Alert in their respective ready rooms, or maintenance crews who hadn't yet finished their work. While everyone was taking a few centons to eat, no one noticed a Warrior going to the two Red Squadron Vipers. Bevan glanced around and saw no one. Still, he was cautious as he approached the first Viper-Sargamesh's, he knew. Glancing around again, he saw some maintenance people headed to their break room to get something to eat, but no one nearby. He took out his scanner, and swept the Viper. What....? Scowling, he slipped the proper tools from his pockets and went to work on the access panel. When he got it open, he was shocked. The charge was gone, and everything appeared as if nothing had happened. Bevan knew that the other charge was likely gone as well, but he scanned it anyway. It read the same! Who had noticed? A mechanic doing a last-centon check? Well, he'd come back tonight and finish the job, he told himself, exercising all the intellectual acumen he was known for. And this time, he'd do it right. Just as he got up, Bevan heard someone coming. He turned and there was Captain Boomer and one of the Security/Special Forces men, Castor. They glared at him, then Castor took out something. It was very familiar, namely, one of the charges he'd placed. "Looking for this?" Castor said. "How?" Bevan turned and ran to one of the lifts. Where he was going to run, he wasn't sure, but there were plenty of places to hide on a battlestar. Later, he might be able to steal a Viper or stow away on a shuttle. He had almost reached the lift when he ran into someone's extended arm, and was slammed to the deck. Bevan looked up, and saw the two Zohrloch standing, or rather, looming, over him. Sargamesh glared at him. "Dishonorable slug!" The other one, Korl, roared. The two yanked Bevan to his feet. He tried pulling his laser, but a kick from Sargamesh sent the weapon flying, then the Zorhloch warrior slammed Bevan into the bulkhead. His breath exploded out of him. "Going somewhere?" Korl asked. Perhaps we are lost, eh?" replied Sargamesh. Bevan squirmed, and Sargamesh tightened his vise-like grip. Bevan gritted his teeth in pain. "You...sub-Human. Go to Hades!" Bevan screamed. "You first," Sargamesh said, kneeing Bevan in the stomach. That caused him to double over. As he tried to get up, he drew a concealed knife from his sleeve, and gave Korl a glancing scrape. The two Zorhloch smiled at Bevan, as if it say, "You just made a big mistake!" And both drew their own daggers. Korl managed to deflect Bevan's second strike with his own dagger, and that enabled Sargamesh to strike, putting his dagger into Bevan's left shoulder, and caused Bevan to scream at the top of his lungs. He tried to strike Sargamesh, who easily deflected his strike, and then grabbed Bevan's right hand and gave it a very big squeeze, and gave it a vicious twist. That forced Bevan to drop the knife, and Korl then kicked it away. "Had enough?" Sargamesh sneered at Bevan. "I'll send both of you to Hades!" Bevan shouted as he tried to kick Sargamesh. "You...vermin!" "You first, worm," Korl said, grabbing the leg and pushing it to force Bevan into the bulkhead again. As Bevan fell, both Zohrloch put their daggers onto Bevan's throat. "If they didn't want you alive," Sargamesh hissed, "we'd finish you right now." "Such an inconvenience, regulations," grinned Korl. "Don't you agree, Brother Sargamesh?" "You speak wisdom, Brother Korl," Sargamesh replied. "Indeed you do." Bevan tried using his good arm to push them away, only to get a hard smack in his sternum from Sargamesh's elbow. Almost as fast, the arm straightened, and the Zohrloch's hard fist slammed into Bevan's face. Blood splattered, and the crunch of a breaking nose brought a smile to both pilots. Just as Bevan slid to the deck, and screamed, both Boomer and Castor arrived, lasers pointed at the malefactor.. "That's enough, both of you!" Boomer yelled. "We'll take him from here." "As you wished, Captain," Sargamesh said. "He's alive. Though a few centons more, and he would be begging for death." Korl said nothing, but grabbed Bevan by the neck and pulled him to his feet. "How hard did you smack him?" Castor asked. Not for the first time would he have to take someone to Life Center before placing him in the Brig. "Hard enough for him to remember the experience," Sargamesh replied. "I believe this is yours now," he said, picking up Bevan's knife and handing it to Castor.. "Thanks," Castor said. He turned to Bevan. "Okay, you know the drill. You're under arrest. As such, you have the right to remain silent, and if you...." "Just shut the...Hades Hole up, and get me away from these....sub-Human snit-rods!" Bevan hissed through his pain, trying to cradle his wrecked hand. The pain was absolutely excruciating. "You head to the Life Center, too, Korl," Boomer said, seeing the blue stain on his uniform. "For this? It's...." "That's an order, Korl." "Sir." Chapter 10: Adama had been informed of the successful apprehending of Bevan, and that he was alive, though very much the worse for wear, after a run-in with a pair of Zorhloch warriors. Now, he was in the office portion of his cabin, meeting with Sires Pelias and Xaviar, along with Siress Tinia, and Siress Lydia, the Council Vice-President. Though Lydia was still not ready to fully resume her Council duties, Adama felt that as Vice-President, she had a right to know what was happening. As he briefed them on what had been found out so far, everyone was stunned. "Commander," Xaviar said, "this, this, is beyond comprehension. Of course, that religious sect has had some weird ideas to say the least. But this? A coup? And committing what can be called acts of terrorism? It's practically unheard of." "In our recent times? Yes, Sire," Adama said to his colleague. "But, if you'll remember your Academy history courses, there was quite a bit of terrorism in the Colonies prior to Unification. And the Il Fadim seem to be following the scripts of those groups." Pelias nodded. "Commander, we've had no experience in these matters, the recent events with the renegade Otori notwithstanding. And I assume any records or documents on counter-terrorism were left behind in the Colonies?" "That's correct, Sire Pelias," Adama noted. "Save for a few historical references. However, we do have two people among us with counter-terrorism training and experience." "Ah, yes. Captain Byrne and Sergeant Wagner," Pelias said. "And have they offered their advice?" "We'd be fools not to accept it," Siress Tinia reminded her colleagues. "I presume they have?" "They have indeed," Adama said. "And they've been very helpful. Though what they've told me can be...disturbing." Adama then filled in his colleagues on what Byrne and Wagner had told him. And the measures he'd taken based on their advice. "I'm....shocked, Commander," Lydia said, speaking for the first time. "Seizing a ship and using it as a suicide weapon? What would their motivation be?" Clearly, this was something no one had thought of-other than Cylons. "He explained this way: the terrorists who commit such acts on Earth-and his country has had to face such attacks on a number of occasions, feel that they're striking a blow against their enemies, while also becoming martyrs to their cause." Adama told his fellow Council members. "Very often, Byrne said, it imbues them with spiritual or religious virtue, to die in this fashion." Tinia nodded. "And this kidnapping plot?" "Not unheard of, Siress," Xaviar said. "Criminals have done it to demand release of fellow members of their gang in the past. Pirates, also, have used hostages as bargaining tools for similar reasons." "Fortunately," Adama said, "it has been stopped. And we have located all of the stocks of nerve agent they planned to use. However, until this situation is resolved, there may be other targets. Including members of the Council itself." Lydia turned pale. It had been bad enough to be abducted by the Ischt'k, and now this? It seemed to be too much. "Has Council Security been informed?" "Of course," Adama said. "All members will have some additional protection until this is taken care of." Heads nodded around the room. "Do we know who's behind these events?" Tinia asked. "Not enough for Sire Solon to file charges," Adama admitted. "However, what I'm going to tell you must not leave this room under any circumstances. Not without approval from me or Sire Solon." Pelias turned to his colleagues. All nodded. "Of course, Commander. This information stays here." "Good, Sire." Adama said. "Sire Elegabalus and Sire Galerius are implicated-thanks to decrypting the kidnapping suspect's PDA, in that case. And several members of the Il Fadim who've left the movement and are being debriefed by Sire Solon say that they heard that the two were going to impose some kind of Theocracy on the Fleet." Dead silence followed Adama's words. Then Lydia spoke. "My God, Commander....This, this is what Uri was planning at Brylon V, was it not?" "Yes, it's very similar, but Uri never had a chance to see his plan through. However, Uri was more interested in personal power than any kind of religious virtue. This plot, however, was in the process of being implemented. Until the explosion on the Adena." Adama remarked. "So, not enough evidence-yet-for Sire Solon to file charges, but the investigation is continuing?" Pelias asked. "Correct, Sire." Adama said. "And it should be pointed out that a number of those who have been taken into custody have been very cooperative. Others, such as Laban, who was planning the kidnapping, are defiant, openly proclaiming their involvement." "I see," Xaviar said. "And the investigation has to run its course." "Correct, Sire. However, there may be other developments, if Captain Byrne and Sergeant Wagner are correct. There may be a hostage situation, another kidnapping plot, anything-even the aforementioned suicide runs," Adama pointed out. Siress Tinia nodded. She looked at her three colleagues, and then turned to Adama. "Commander, whatever happens with this, I believe you can count on our support. If there is a situation, the last thing you and the military need is a bunch of council members getting in your way." She turned back to the other members. "Isn't that right?" The others nodded. Even Lydia, Adama noted, seemed genuinely sincere. A nice change. In Sire Galerius' suite aboard the Rising Star, Sixtus was briefing his master. He had worked during the night, gathering information on ships, crew rosters, numbers of passengers, and so on. And he'd narrowed down the list of ships to a dozen or so that the faithful might seize with minimal difficulty. And both Galerius and Elegabalus, along with the other key plotters, were listening intently. "As for the smaller liners, the Queen of Cancer and the Paz Gloria are both highly desirable candidates: only two hundred or so passengers and a hundred or less crew, and a minimal security staff." Sixtus reported. "Yes, Sixtus. But are there any ships on your list that have some of our people aboard already, as either crew or passengers?" Galerius asked. He turned to Hahn, who nodded. Having someone on the inside would help matters greatly. The young aide nodded. "Yes, Sire, there are two. One is the old liner Star of Piscera, which has several of us among the crew and passengers, and the freighter Delta, which has two, that we know of." Both renegade Councilmen nodded. The more who could work on the inside, the better. "And the number of passengers on the liner?" Galerius asked intently. "Two hundred and seventy-five, Sire, according to the most recent census," replied Sixtus. "Plus one hundred crew. However, there is a problem." "And that problem is?" Elegabalus wanted to know. "None of them are in any sort of position that could be of help. Not one is in the ship's security crew, or in Engineering. And it's certain that none are on the Bridge crew." Sixtus noted. Craiks, Elegabalus' aide, then came in. "Excuse me, but I have some new information that you may be interested in." "What is it?" Elegabalus asked, with a trace of irritation in his voice. Being interrupted was annoying, regardless of the reason. "Several more of our people have been picked up, all across the Fleet." The two councilmen scowled. Then Galerius shouted. "ADAMA! That, that, Demon from Hades!" "How did they find out?" Elegabalus demanded of his aide. "I would imagine that through people that have already been caught, they're going through PDAs. Or getting names and so on through interrogations," Craiks said. "You would imagine!? Of all the..." Galerius muttered. "Some are failing the test, no matter how hard they try." "There's more, Sire," Craiks had to say. "And that is?" "Bevan has been arrested. He attempted to blow up two of the Zohrloch sub-Humans in their Vipers, but failed. One has to assume they're going through his PDA and other material." Craiks added. Mussert spoke up. "It would seem our hand has been forced. We need a target, and soon, Sires." "Do you have any suggestions?" Galerius asked. "Does your aide's report mention some of the other freighters?" "It does," Sixtus said. "the Dagan, Vanir, and Rakotis all have crew and passenger numbers that we can control, and each has a crew compliment under fifty, with minimal security.." "It's going to have to be one of those, Sires," Mussert said. "I agree with Mussert," Hahn said. "At this rate, we won't have that many of us left to carry out the action, given how Adama's Security people are doing." "The Dagan is a good possibility," Mussert said. Something came to him, however."What about the Delta, though?" "Two of us are already aboard, as I reported earlier. None are crew, but they do know the ship." Sixtus reported. "Does she have a docking bay?" Asked the former merchant captain. "She does," the aide replied. "She's a virtual twin of the Gemini. Built in the same yard, if I recall correctly." The rest looked at him intently, as if silently bidding him to continue. "After we fled the Colonies, I was assigned to the Fleet Damage and Supply Survey. My group was tasked to the Delta. Her bridge and internal arrangements are similar to the Gemini, but she has an older power plant. And it's large enough for two shuttles and more. She was not designed for planetary landings, and all of her cargo handling was either via orbital station or barges sent up from planetside." Sixtus said. Arminus, who hadn't spoken much, nodded. "Based on that, I'd recommend the Delta, Sires." Both councilmen nodded. Then Elegabalus asked, "Crew and passengers?" "One hundred and seventy-five passengers, and thirty-two crew., normally," Sixtus reported. "But six families, totaling thirty-two people, will be headed over to one of the Agro Ships for recreation in the resort dome. And twenty more are scheduled to follow, before the rest come back. We'll have that many fewer to deal with." "When?" Elegabalus asked. "Tomorrow morning." "Very well," Galerius said. "Let's break for lunch, and after that, begin work on a plan to take the ship. In a few days, we will, the Lords of Kobol willing, be on a world that we, the Il Fadim, can call our own." "And the hostages?" Hahn asked. "I stand by what I said earlier," Galerius said. "Any who want to join us, and are willing to accept the True Faith, are welcome. As for the rest...." "Yes?" Replied Mussert. He was still hoping to use some as forced labor on their new world. And liquidate those who were not up to it. He had a talent for that. "They will be free to resume this foolish quest," Galerius decided. "I will not stand for a massacre, nor do I want to reintroduce the sin of slavery. It is not a point for further discussion." He pointed his finger at Mussert. "Do I make myself clear?" Mussert turned to Elegabalus, who was also glaring at Mussert. "You do, Sire." Aboard the Constellation, Sergeant Wagner and her Security people were busy with a working lunch of their own, talking about possible targets for a terrorist attack Lauren was finding that her counter-terrorist training was proving useful, while Mextan, who was the only one of her people who'd graduated from the Academy before the Holocaust, was recalling his pre-Unification Colonial History. But to Garris and Paulson, this was new ground. "All right," Wagner said, "I've told you how terrorists on Earth operated in my day, and what Captain Byrne has said about Al-Qaida and similar groups. Metxan, any of that familiar?" Her deputy nodded. "Yes, Ma'am, it is. Some of those groups were pretty vicious, like your Al-Qaida, if I remember right." "So what would you do, in their place?" Wagner asked. "Paulson, you first." "I'd go for a kidnapping: Simple, effective, and depending on how many of them are on Galactica, they can hide the victim on the ship." "A kidnapping first, though everyone's on the lookout for that?" "Yes, Ma'am. If these guys are thinking their ideology first, they won't care." Paulson said. "The more important the target, the stronger their bargaining position." "If that doesn't work, or is foiled, then what?" Wagner wanted to know. "I'd seize a ship, and try what your aircraft hijackers wanted: get my jailed colleagues out, and then go off with the seized ship for a habitable world." Paulson said. "Kidnapping, then piracy," Wagner said, taking notes. "All right, Garris." She looked at her rookie. "Your turn." Garris took a deep breath. This was something he hadn't been trained to expect. "If I want my friends out of the Prison Barge, I'd go for a hostage situation. Not seizing a ship, though. Take over someplace like the Astral Lounge on the Rising Star, and hold everyone there until I got what I wanted." "With shipboard security stepped up?" Paulson asked. "Like you said, if they're going by their ideology, they won't care." Garris said. "And a failed attack gets splashed all over IFB just as much as a successful one. Just like our media," Wagner observed. "It gives them a platform to spew their ideology. But if that fails?" "Then, Ma'am, I go for taking a ship. Use the passengers and crew as bargaining tools, and get my friends released. Then I take off for a habitable world." Heads nodded around the table. Wagner jotted down some notes, then turned to Mextan. "You're up. What's running through your mind?" "Ma'am, I'd go for a kidnapping. If they've got some of them still on Galactica, there's a highly vulnerable target, and I'm not referring to the Commander's grandson, but his other grandchildren." "Athena's twins?" Lauren asked. Not the first time that terrorists had gone for kids deliberately. Scum like that seemed drawn to the most vulnerable. What Captain Byrne had told her about the OKC Federal Building attack sprang to mind. "Yes, Ma'am." "I'll inform Commander Adama: suggest that he have some guards on the ship's child-care center. What else?" Garris asked, "Can we trust every guard on the Galactica, though?" They all looked at him. "I was thinking: all the planning that's been put into this. They've got to have a backup. We don't know that everyone on the Galactica's been identified. Maybe someone those who've given up don't know about is still out there. I'd keep a capstone or two in reserve, as Starbuck likes to say. And if we can think of this, so can they. All of the younger kids, including Athena's new babies? All in one spot?" "Holy...My God, you're right." Wagner realized. "I'll recommend to Adama that the kids be randomly dispersed if possible. Good thinking, Garris." She looked around the room. "Anything else?" "Assassination: the Commander, some senior officers, or one or two members of the Council. If they don't go for that, then a hostage gambit," Metxan said. "What kind?" She wanted to know. "Either one's possible: take over the Promenade or the Astral Lounge on the Rising Star-or one of the other big liners. Or, as Garris and Paulson said: seize a ship-preferably one they can control, and either take off right away, or use the passengers and crew as bargaining chips." "And get dropped off on a habitable planet in exchange for Sherrock and their jailed buddies." Wagner said, and it wasn't a question. "You got it, Ma'am." Wagner nodded. "All right. You guys pretty well covered it, with one exception: a suicide attack. Either a single suicide bomber, or taking a ship and using it as a weapon-not unlike on 9/11. I take it you've seen the video about that the Captain has?" And she saw her people nod their heads. "Anything else? They shook their heads no. "Good. Garris, Paulson, you're dismissed, and get back to work. Metxan, I want you here. You and I need to talk with the Captain." The first two got up and left, while Mextan stayed. "Ma'am?" He wanted to know. "Captain Byrne's going to want to hear another opinion on this." She reached for the telecom and called the Bridge. "Bridge, Security. Sergeant Wagner for the Captain." Chapter 11: Commander Adama sat at his chair in his office. He had just finished a conversation with Captain Byrne and Sergeant Wagner, and they had told him what might be coming next, if they were in the terrorists' position. Though a suicide attack-whether a lone suicide bomber on an assassination attempt or seizing a ship and using it as a weapon couldn't be ruled out, the main threat seemed to be either a new kidnapping plot, or a hostage situation. And when they mentioned that Athena's twins might be targets, he almost had a heart seizure. He'd neglected that possibility, and after the conversation had ended, called Athena and Boomer to his quarters. Adama was deciding what to tell them when the both of them arrived. "Enter!" "You asked to see us, Father?" Athena asked as she and Boomer came into the office. "Yes, Athena, and this is one time I wish I didn't have to." Adama said as the two took their seats. "I've had another conversation with Captain Byrne and Sergeant Wagner, and they've told me what the Il Fadim might try next. And one of the possibilities is a disturbing one." Boomer scowled. "What do you mean, Commander? They've already tried to kill two of the Zohrloch, and there was that kidnapping plot over on the Constellation." "Yes," Adama nodded. "But, if these people are blinded by their ideology, those setbacks mean nothing to them. They just have to try again. And a possible target is the child-care center on the Galactica." "Those fracking Borays!" Athena yelled. "Those dirty, despicable..." And Boomer took back for a centon. He'd never seen her like this before, but now that she was a mother, any threat to her babies would generate this kind of reaction. And she'd fight like a demon to protect her children, if it came to that. "Precisely my sentiments, Athena," Adama said. "Though I was much more....restrained when discussing this with the Captain and the Sergeant." "So what now?" Boomer asked. "I suggest you do what Apollo and Sheba have done with Boxey: he's staying with the female pilots in Blue Squadron, and he's glad to be with his big brothers and sisters there. Red Squadron has some female pilots, correct?" "Yes, Sir," Boomer replied. "Five, to be precise." "Very good.." Adama turned to Athena. "You and the twins stay with them until this is resolved. Continue with your Bridge duties, but the twins will be safe with their new big sisters." "Yes, Father," Athena said. Deep down, she was relieved. Those pilots were her friends, and they wouldn't let anything happen to the twins. Not if they could help it. "As for the child-care center, I'll notify Lieutenant Greenbean: Yellow Squadron's not flying this secton due to most of their ships due for major maintenance work. His Warriors can watch the child-care center, and otherwise augment Security." Both Boomer and Athena nodded. "For how long, Commander?" Boomer asked after a centon. "No way to tell for sure," Adama admitted. "Captain Byrne said the Il Fadim have the initiative, and can decide to strike at any time. The only thing that would prevent that is that we identify all of them, and round the whole lot up before they can do anything. But that's not likely." "Understood, Commander," Boomer said. "One more thing: have you been informed as to what to look out for when on patrol near the Fleet?" "Yes, Sir," Boomer replied. "Apollo's briefed all the squadron commanders. We'll have our eyes out." Adama nodded approval. "Good. I hope these precautions prove unnecessary, but as Sergeant Wagner said, 'better safe than sorry.'" That afternoon, the plotters were meeting again in Sire Galerius' suite. They were deciding on how best to take control of the Delta. Ideas were tossed back and forth, some given more credence than others, but ultimately rejected. One suggestion, to have a phony "Fleet Inspection" team, was scotched because the Captain of the Delta, a personal friend and Academy classmate of Colonel Tigh, would no doubt check with the Galactica, and refuse docking clearance if the response came back negative. Then Galerius came up with a suggestion. "Why not have both Elegabalus and myself come aboard as part of our Council duties? Since with our action we're renouncing our membership, once we've declared ourselves, no one will be suspicious of a par of shuttles with two members of the Council aboard." "Yes," smiled Elegabalus, "If we can get a couple of cameras from IFB, we could play it as a 'getting in touch' with the people bit for the news. Photo ops for the Council Members. Then once aboard..." He glared malignantly. Hahn, who like Armininus, was ex-military, nodded. "Why didn't any of us think of that? It's possible." He turned to Mussert. "What do you think?" Mussert nodded. "I agree. The weapons can be discretely tucked aboard the shutles. There's enough in our cache here on the Rising Star for two dozen or so. And I can lay my hands on a newsvid cam, close to what they use on IFB." "Excellent," Elegabalus nodded. "And those are the weapons we've acquired over time, correct?" "Yes, Sire." Mussert replied. "Not just our own, but some laser rifles and pistols we acquired at RB-33. There'll be enough." "Good," Galerius responded. "Now, once we reveal ourselves, we'll have to neutralize whatever security there is, then take the Bridge, Engineering, and the passenger areas. Apart from those crew needed to run the Bridge and Engineering, they'll be with the other hostages in the Common Room." "They'll be that much easier to guard," Hahn said. "And easier to...make examples of, should that become necessary." Mussert added. "Journocams should help with that, eh?" "Let us hope that course of action does not become necessary." Galerius said, silently wishing that Mussert wasn't needed. The man could be so...single-minded at times. "Adama and the Council will see reason-that all we want to is to abandon this foolish quest, and establish our own society on a habitable world." "We may have to show them we mean business." Mussert replied. With a smile, and both Arminius and Hahn nodded in agreement. "That shouldn't be necessary," Galerius said. "However, yes, it may come to that eventually." He looked at Elagabalus, who nodded. "Yes, Sire." Mussert said. "All right," Elegabalus said. "When?" Sixtus consulted his PDA. "Four days from now, right after worship period, is what I'd recommend. The first recreation party won't be back, and it's only a centar after the departure of the second. Sicne they will be using the same shuttle coming and going for both groups, we'll have no interference on that score." "Any objections?" Galerius asked, looking around the room. There were none. Elegabalus nodded. "It's settled, then. By the end of the secton, we will be building a new society, a pure and holy one based on the True Faith, on a new world. Even if it's only a hundred of us or so." "Indeed," Galerius added. "May the Lords of Kobol bless our efforts, and grant us the wisdom and energy to succeed." Chapter 12: The following afternoon, Adama stood at the viewport in his private quarters, staring out across the Fleet. Superficially, all seemed normal, with the ships in their assigned positions, like pieces on a game board. Baltar's base ship was, as always, to port and slightly aft of the Battlestar, her massive hull spinning slowly as it moved across the heavens. In fact, he'd just received a message from Starbuck, pulling one of his stints as "liaison officer" aboard the Cylon ship, coming back for a debriefing and a couple of days of R&R, before resuming his duties as Red Squadron's Exec. He actually looked forward to seeing the brash young Lieutenant again, and hearing about possibly insightful events aboard their "allied" vessel. Further back, the Century was preparing to move out for a tactical exercise with the Adelade, before going ahead on a long-range recon ahead of the Fleet. He turned away, and sat at his desk, unable to shake an oppressive feeling. Despite outward appearances, all was not right. It had been two days, and not a word of any kind about the Il Fadim and their coup plot, let alone whatever plot that they may have in store now that the coup had been apparently thwarted. Laban was still cooling his heels in the Brig, awaiting his Tribunal, while the interrogation and debriefing of those who wanted no part of the plot proceeded with as much dispatch as justice would entail. And Sherrock was still in protective custody, medicated as prescribed, and in his current state, the erstwhile cult leader was as dangerous as a knitting circle with tea. But until the situation was resolved, Adama wasn't taking any chances on the man being freed by his followers, once again to become a danger. Adama looked down at his desk, at a report from Wilker's lab, concerning the remains of the "late" and dismantled IL Cylon, Septimus. Technician Hummer had discovered, quite by chance, that the former Cylon commander's head had been partly activated during the "Base Ship auction," some time back, and had remained in passive sensor mode. Everything that was said or done, within the range of the construct's internal sensors, had been dutifully recorded and transmitted to a waiting party. Shut down before all of this was realized, neither the location of the receiver, nor who was responsible, could be determined at present. But had been transmitted had been duly recorded by the IL's memory banks. Several discussions regarding recent events, as well as examination of evidence, had been recorded and sent, but to whom? Deep down, Adama was certain that he knew, but couldn't make a move legally. More evidence was needed, whether for warrants to arrest, or for searches of either quarters or effects. He shook his head-the eternal balancing act between individual liberty and collective security. His communicator chimed. Beep. Starbuck's shuttle had landed. Shrugging his shoulders and unable to rest, Adama got up and headed to the ship's main gymnasion, leaving orders for Starbuck to meet him there, where he was certain to run into Apollo. Of late, his son had been spending more and more time there, working out and honing his Triad skills. Now that Starbuck was back, he suspected that a match, fit for IFB, was in the offing. Sure enough, Apollo was going through a strenuous calisthenics routine as he entered, toning up his already well-toned frame, and in the company of Sargamesh and his fellow exile, Korl. All were well into their second wind as Adama sat down. Starbuck came in a moment later, and Adama waved him to the seat next to his. "Commander?" Starbuck asked, surprised at seeing his CO there. AS he spoke, Sheba entered, followed a moment later by Cassie. Starbuck's attention wandered for a quick moment, smiling at his lady, briefly clasping her hand and whispering something into her ear that earned a charming giggle in return. She then disappeared into the change room with Sheba, smiling back at Starbuck, who then turned his attention to Adama. "Starbuck," Adama asked. "How are things aboard the Base Ship?" "Well... as good as can be expected, Commander," Starbuck replied. "Of course, with Cylons, one day is just like any other. Variety of any sort is a foreign concept to them, especially at 0200 Centars." "I see. And our Human companions?" "Same. Baltar seems like always, and Cla...Ayesha appears....content to be back with him." Starbuck watched Apollo for a bit, clearly preferring not to dwell on his father's former fiancee. "What's up, Commander? Pardon me for asking, Sir, but you didn't call me down her just so we could watch Apollo work out like some ancient warrior god." He was diverted for a moment as Cassie reappeared, smiling at that. She returned it, with a hint of things to come. "I didn't. But here, I felt, we were less likely to be monitored." Adama said. "Monitored, Commander? By whom?" Adama then related the story as he had it so far. Starbuck listened, unusually quiet for once, but clearly disturbed by Adama's revelations. Even angry. "It comes down to two things, Starbuck." "Go on, Sir," Starbuck replied, still upset at what he'd just been told. "Have you heard anything, no matter how slight or trivial, that might indicate Baltar's involvement in this affair?" "Trying to take over again?" Starbuck thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Not a thing, Commander. We talked a lot, mostly about the Warrior life, Academy days, things we've encountered since leaving home. A few games of Pyramid with Moray, even. He's no slouch, by the way. But no, Sir. Not a peep. Not even implied, which is more important." "That's good, Starbuck." Adama replied. "And the second thing, Commander?" Adama paused for a centon. "Your father, Starbuck." "My...is he involved in this?" Starbuck asked, clearly shaken and disturbed by the suggestion. "No. No. He's not involved in this!" Despite the protest, there was concern and doubt lurking in his eyes. "No, but....as someone who's in tune with the more, shall we say, colorful segments of our population, he hears things that the rest of us may not hear at all. I want you to see him, Starbuck, somewhere secure, and sound him out. What has he heard, if anything, that might give us more information? What can we legally use to preempt any move by these people? If there's any word going around, Chameleon is the best person who can find it." "I see, Commander, I understand." Starbuck watached Cassie for a centon or two, then nodded. "I'll be in touch, Sir. As soon as I can." "Thank you, Starbuck," Adama said, watching the young man leave. Turning back, he let his eyes drift from Apollo to the ladies. Oh, to be young and foolish once again. That evening, on the Constellation, Captain Byrne was hosting what he called a "movie night." Besides the movies and other audio/visual materials that those behind his mission had put aboard the Saint Brendan, each crew member had been allowed to choose their favorite movies and TV shows to take along, as part of their personal preference kits. Now, he had everything that his crew had left, and not only he, but Jena and Sergeant Wagner, had been making this a regular event. They invited their new friends to come and have dinner, but then enjoy some of Earth's movies, both good and bad. Tonight, he had invited Commander Adama and Siress Tinia, Apollo, Sheba, and Boxey, Sire Pelias, and Sargamesh to join him, his daughter, Sergeant Wagner, and Mr. Malik. When Commander Adama hosted these, things were semi-formal, but on the Constellation, things were more relaxed. It was a time to unwind, and one didn't get up in dress uniform to relax. Tonight, after what he called a Road Runner cartoon for Boxey, and an old travelogue about the Desert Southwest of the U.S., it was a double feature. The first movie was called Bullitt, and not only was it a favorite of Byrne's, but as it turned out, Sergeant Wagner was a big Steve McQueen fan, and she had this movie at the top of her list. Not only for the actor, but the "car chase" was considered the best ever in the movies, and she took a critical eye towards the driving. "You say he did his own driving?" Sire Pelias asked. "He did some of it, Sire," Wagner replied. "He was an accomplished race driver, and wanted to do it all, but the studio objected. So they hired a stunt driver for the more dangerous driving stunts." "They wanted to protect their asset-their prized star, in other words?" Siress Tinia asked. Wagner nodded. "That's about it, Siress. They didn't want anything to happen, such as their star performer getting hurt or killed in a driving stunt. A form of insurance." "Logical," Tinia replied. "But certainly less.....exhilarating, for the star, said Malik, and Sargamesh let out a hearty laugh. The next part of the double feature was an espionage and flying thriller, called Firefox. Captain Byrne enjoyed this one when he was a teenager, and after a brief explanation of just how closed the Soviet Union was at the time the movie was made, and how it treated dissidents, his Colonial guests were able to follow the movie. "Amazing," Apollo said afterwards. "Thought-guided and -controlled weapons systems? Even we hadn't thought of that. At least, as far as I know." "Believe it or not, Captain, Byrne said. "They were working on that when I left on my mission. Of course, it was all very secret, but there was just that small chance that it would work, and wind up in some advanced fighters that were in the design stage. Well, advanced by our standards. Compared to Vipers and Raiders, though, they were more like box kites." "Your Soviet Union reminds me of what the Eastern Alliance was," Adama remembered. A very oppressive government, where the individual was treated not as a person, a being with rights and dignity and value, but evaluated only on the basis of how useful they were to the state." "The Soviets were very harsh, cruel, and unforgiving, Byrne said, going into the details of the Cold War in some depth. "But a new Soviet leader came into office three yahrens after this movie was made, and he wanted to reform the system. He had to: their economy was tottering, and reforms were critical. So he pushed through what was called peristroika, or 'restructuring'. Just minor reforms, but instead, his reforms set in motion the end of the Soviet Union. That, and the military competition with the United States, brought about the downfall of the Soviet State." "Yes, your 'Cold War' is something we're familiar with, historically. There were similar standoffs in our pre-Unification past," Adama said, recalling his history. After the other guests had left, preparing to return to the Galactica, Byrne wanted a brief, private conversation with Adama. "Commander, is there anything new?" "No, not yet," Adama replied. "I'm as frustrated as you are." "Well, the waiting's just as hard. Knowing full well that there's people out there up to no good, and there's not a bloody thing you can do about it until they decide to go ahead and do it," Byrne commented. "I take it, Sir, that Croft's people are getting ready, ready for whatever happens?" The Commander nodded. "They are, Captain. His team's well prepared for whatever comes up." "Good, because, Commander, I have a feeling that his people and these scum are going to cross paths, and his team's the ones who are going to be walking out of this. The others, well.....they get carried out. Feet first." A very apt description, Captain," Adama replied. "I like your confidence." "Sir, in the counterterrorist business, you have to be," Byrne reminded him. Chapter 13: Almost two more full days had passed, and Adama was still tense. Though a few more members of the Il Fadim had been rounded up, and several more had emulated their now-former colleagues on the Galactica, and come forward with information, there still wasn't enough yet for Sire Solon to file charges against those both now knew to be the likely ringleaders: Sires Galerius and Elagabalus. Nothing that would be sure to stick, anyway. Still, he was hoping that further evidence would come to light, and that whatever the two renegades-it was easy to think of them as such-had in mind, would be stopped, and the whole bunch rounded up and placed in front of a Tribunal. But one thing still bothered him. He wen to his Telecom and called the Bridge. "Bridge, Commander Adama." "Yes, Commander?" Tigh replied. "Have Captain Boomer report to my quarters, and has Starbuck returned from the Rising Star, as yet?" "The R&R shuttle will be in the landing pattern within five centons, Commander," said Tigh. "Ill have Boomer report to you right away." "Excellent, Tigh. Have Starbuck meet me in the Officer's Club." "Commander?" The surprise in the XO's voice was obvious. "I'll explain later, Tigh. Just have him report to me in the Officer's Club." Adama said. "Yes, Sir," Tigh responded. He clicked off, and a few centons later, Boomer came to Adama's Quarters. "Commander?" "Boomer. The twins are with their big sisters, and doing fine?" Adama asked. "Yes, Commander. And the pilots are rediscovering what it was like to have a baby around. Even Sargamesh and Korl have taken to the twins, surprisingly. Zohrloch men don't strike me as the homey type. Anyway, they have assured me and Athena that nothing will happen to the twins as long as they're around. "Good. Having a pair of bodyguards like that is a blessing." Adama said. He raised his hands, and switched to hand sign battle language. Now, I know you've done it before, but I'd like you to sweep my quarters for any listening devices. Understood, Commander. I"ll get Hummer to help me out, Boomer said. If anything's here, we'll find it. Very well, replied Adama. I'll be seeing Starbuck. Let me guess; you've asked him to see if Chameleon's picked up anything. Anything unusual, Boomer said. That does you credit, Captain. If we had another warship or two available, right now, I'd be thinking you'd be in line to have one, Adama reminded his son-in-law. Sir, I'm busy enough as it is with Red Squadron, Boomer laughed. Ah, yes. So much easier when you're running a squadron instead of a ship, Adama said, remembering his days as a squadron commander. All right, let me know, if anything, you find. He switched back. "I'll be in the Officer's Club with Starbuck." "Yes, Sir." Adama left Boomer to his work, and went down to the Officer's Club. Everyone saluted as he entered, and he waved them to be all at ease. There, he found Starbuck sitting at a table, and he went right over to see him. Before they could talk, Freeman, the barkeep, came over. "Commander, is there anything I can get for you today?" "Not yet, Freeman, but thank you," Adama said. The barkeep went back to the bar, where two of Silver Spar's pilots were waiting. Adama then turned to Starbuck. "Starbuck, does your father have anything for us?" Starbuck paused, gathering his thoughts. "Not much, Commander, He's picked up a few things, but nothing we can use, legally. It's all rumor, either secondhand at best, or worse. What's the legal term? Hearsay?" "I was afraid of that, but yes, hearsay. And that's not admissible," Adama recalled. "Still, what did he hear?" "Something's going down, Commander," he began, leaning forward, and covering his mouth with a hand. No sense in making it easy for any lip readers. "He did see an ex-merchant captain, Mussert, I think he said, who was telling some folks in some of the lesser watering holes around the Fleet, that in a few days, they wouldn't be seeing him, or a number of others, in the Fleet ever again. He seemed pretty pleased about it, too." Adama raised an eyebrow, and signaled to Starbuck to continue. "He also mentioned a couple of black market dealers that said there's been upticks in weapons deals, stuff that got picked up at RB-33, mostly. Nothing heavy, but the deals are going down. Stuff that's not on any cargo manifest, by the way." "All of that was supposed to be declared, when we were there." "Well, it looks like somebody forgot to fill out their paperwork, Commander. Just like the chemicals needed to make the Piiglin. Again, Mussert's name got mentioned, along with somebody else. Hahn." "Hahn, you say?" Adama asked. He knew all about Mussert, and his tyrannical treatment of his old merchant crew. Treatment so bad, they had mutinied. Not to mention that Mussert had been turned down for the Military after the Holocaust for just that reason. Adama still wondered how the man had avoided prison. Hahn, though, he'd never heard of before. "Yes, Commander. All Chameleon knows for sure right now is that he's ex-Military," Starbuck told his CO. "What branch or grade, he doesn't know. He's sure, though, that something's going down in the next few days. He says he can feel it, like a Pyramid scam about to blow up. These guys are keeping their cards close to their chest, and they won't show their hand until they're good and ready." "He'll let us know, if he hears that something's imminent?" Starbuck nodded. "I asked him to do that, and he will. We exchange texts every other day or so, just to see how things are going." "Good," Adama decided. "All right, Starbuck. Thank you. Let me know when you hear anything more from him." "I sure will, Commander." Then Starbuck got up and headed off to Red Squadron's area. He'd heard from Boomer that Athena and the twins were bunking with the squadron's female pilots, and he wanted to see the twins for himself. All he asked was not to have diaper duty suddenly thrust upon him! Adama sat back in his chair and gathered his thoughts. Then he waved at the barkeep. "Freeman?" "Yes, Commander?" "A glass of that beer Captain Byrne is fond of, please." "Comm...Sir, that stuff is vile! Not a refined drink, for one of your stature." "Make it a double," sighed Adama. "Right away, Commander." Aboard the Rising Star, the conspirators were ind the middle of their preparations to seize the Delta, and, the Lords willing, establish their own colony of the Faithful. The two renegade councilmen and their chief plotters were going over the operation. Sire Galerius was running the meeting. "So, 1300 is the time to strike?" He asked, looking to Hahn. "Yes, Sire," Hahn replied, seeing Arminius and Mussert nod. "The shuttle taking the second recreation party to the Agro Ship will have left by that time, and the first party isn't due back until two centars later. That's our window." "Excellent, Now," Galerius indicated the holographic schematic of the Delta. "We'll have to seize Engineering and the Bridge simultaneously. Once we control those, and therefore life support, we can round up the remaining crew and passengers, and herd them into the Common Room," Galerius said, seeing the others nod. "They'll be that much easier to guard." "And the vid-crew from IFB?" Elegabalus asked. "They will be there, prior to our arrival," Galerius said. "Once we're in control of the ship, we'll use them to record our manifesto, and see if we can' t broadcast it all over the Fleet." "Sire," his aide, Sixtus, said. "There's a problem with that." "And that is?" Galerius asked, a menacing tone of voice creeping up. He didn't like....problems. "Well, Sire, once we've taken the ship, any transmissions, other than those on the standard ship-to-ship channels, will likely be jammed. If Adama's people still have the old anti-piracy protocols, they'll be following them precisely and to the letter." "He is right, Sire," Mussert said. "They'll do anything to keep us from transmitting on the standard ship-to-ship, between the Delta and the Galactica. And no doubt, they'll get the Base Ship to augment their own jammers." "Then we'll just broadcast an appeal over the emergency channel, calling on those who practice the Faith to join us, and to show their solidarity." "There are other ways to make them see reason," noted Mussert. They all looked at him. "We'll have hostages. Either we broadcast, or...." He shrugged, with a faint smile. Even Galerius felt the chill. "I doubt it will come to that," replied Elegabalus. "Adama is too full of compassion to risk so many lives merely on stubbornness." "We'll have fewer to worry about," Mussert added. "Plus it never hurts to make an example, sometimes." "A last resort only," said Galerius, at last. "After all, we want to show the people the True Path, Mussert. Not the way of blood and death." He looked around, eyes settling on Hahn. "Correct?" "Of course, Sire," Hahn said. "Now, there'll be two dozen of us, not counting yourself, Sire Elegabalus, and your aides, along with the two shuttle pilots. We'll all be armed, and taking the ship won't be a problem." "What if Adama tries something?" Arminius asked. He, too, like Hahn, was ex-military. "They do have a Special Forces Team aboard the Galactica. Led by Major Croft, from that Arcta mission. Don't doubt it for a centon. He's good." "Adama won't," Elegabalus said confidently. "Even if he wants to, the rest of the Council will make him see reason." "Are you sure?" Galerius asked. "Because the rest of the Council, with the exception of Lydia, has supported him since the elections." "I'm certain of it," Elegabalus replied. "When we explain the motives behind our actions, they will understand." "Sire, I've always trusted our judgment. But, in this case, you had better be correct. Because I have no desire to face Major Croft and his men," Hahn said. "The fate of those Otori renegades should be a lesson as to what they're capable of." Galerius put a hand on Hahn's shoulder. 'You're far too pessimistic, Hahn." He turned to the others, studiously avoiding Mussert. "Now, let us complete our preparations, and get a good night's rest. Because we'll be very busy for the next few days." While the plotters were busy, a shuttle docked with the Delta, and a single Warrior emerged. Ensign Hunley was serving her punishment detail, and her next assignment was to take a full supply inventory of the Delta. Craxus, the ship's Third Officer, was there, waiting for her. "Ensign." "Mr. Craxus," Hunley replied. "I'm the officer that you were told to expect, she said, shouldering her bag." "They told us someone was coming to take the supply inventory for the Fleet," he replied. "I'll let the Captain know you're here." "Good," she said. "Where can I bunk? Because I'll be here for most of the secton." "Follow me, then, I'll take you to your quarters," he said, leading her out of the bay. "Hope you don't mind sharing with two others." The story of my life, she thought, watching the shuttle taxi out of the bay, and leap into space. In Galactica's Security Office, Castor was going over what he had so far. Plenty of evidence-though from what Sire Solon had told him, not enough to get any warrants for the ringleaders. Though he was as frustrated as Commander Adama or Captain Byrne in not being able to arrest who was likely responsible, he was enough of a professional to know it was still a legal matter and not a security one. He sometimes wished the lines between the two were not so nicely defined. Then his CO, Croft, came in. "Major, I wasn't expecting you. Can I help you with anything?" "Just wanting to make sure everyone's got their gear handy. We can get the call any time, the Commander says." "Got everything close, Major," Castor said. "We're using the Earth weapons on this one?" "This might turn out like with the Otori," Croft replied. "So yeah, those suppressed weapons get their combat trial." "Too bad Lauren won't be along, but Sir, when she killed that suspect in that maintenance space, she showed not only those weapons work, but how deadly a shot she is," Castor said, pride coming into his voice "She's a natural." "I heard," his CO replied. "Salik said that any one of those three shots would've been fatal, and even if they got him to Life Center, he would've checked out anyway." I've got to get her to take some training time with us, he said to himself. Someone who's that good a shot.... Castor smiled. "Well, Sir, when this is over, I"m going to ask her out on a date. She deserves to have some kind of social life, and we do have a lot in common." "Still got that image of her from falling out of that stasis tube?" Croft asked with a grin. Hades, he'd have a crush on her if that had been his first sight of her. "Now that you mention it..." Castor replied. "She is a stunner, Major. Still, even if it doesn't go further than just dating, she can have some good nights to look forward to. I'd like that, in her case." "No doubt," Croft said. He was interrupted by a telecom buzzing. Castor took the call. "Security," Castor said. "What? Thanks, Hummer. I owe you one." He hung up. "Sir, can you call the Bridge? We need to stop the R&R Shuttle from leaving for the Rising Star." Croft grabbed the telecom. "What's up? He asked as Castor shouted for two of his men to come with him. "Tell the Commander we know who supplied Bevan with the explosives," he said as he and his men rushed out the door. In Beta Bay, the R&R Shuttle had been getting ready to board passengers, when the call came from the Bridge to hold up. The R&R party was understandably upset, and there was some grumbling about the ways of higher authority when Castor and his men arrived. It didn't take them long to find who they were looking for. Beck was chatting with an attractive female Petty Officer, and he was quite oblivious to the approach of the three Security men. All it took was Castor tapping him on the shoulder. "Ensign Beck?" "Yes? He said, not turning to see who was addressing him, his eyes focused on the young woman in front of him. "Can't you see I'm busy?" Castor came in and spun him around, flashing his ID. "Security, Ensign. We've got questions, and you've got answers." He looked at the woman, jerked his head sharply, and watched her slip aside. "What are you talking about?" Beck asked. "Your fingerprints on explosives used in attempted sabotage, for starters," Castor said. "You have a choice: either come quietly or we can make it rough." And all three security men were reaching for their lasers. Deep down, Beck knew his number was up. The plot would have to go on without him, he realized right then and there. And, as someone who knew how SF worked, he didn't think things would go the way the two councilmen thought they would., At least he wouldn't face Croft and his troopers at the end of all this. But he wouldn't say anything about it until he knew it was going down. "All right,then," he sighed. "I can explain everything." Castor and his men took Beck back to the Security Office, where he was put in a holding cell overnight. That night, Castor got him to admit to providing Bevan with the explosives used in the attempted sabotage, but denied knowing anything else. "You creeps always do," Castor said. And Beck made no reply. Chapter 14: The next morning, before he headed to the Bridge, Commander Adama was briefed by Castor about Beck's arrest. Though he'd confessed to providing Bevan with the explosives used in the attempted sabotage of the two Vipers, he held firm on other questioning during the night. "Sir," Castor said as he wrapped up, "he's protecting something or someone. Frankly, I think he's afraid of whomever it is. We may know more when his PDA gets cracked." Adama nodded. "And Hummer is working on that?" "Komma was doing that overnight, but what he can't find, Hummer will." Castor replied. "He usually does." "Good. Now, what's your feeling about this? Something inside you must be saying something's up." Adama raised an eyebrow, inviting Castor to continue. Castor took a deep breath. "Yes, Sir, something is up. I can...I can feel it, like that tension, before a mission. You know what that's like" Adama nodded, and motioned for him to continue. "I can't pin it down any more than that, but it's going to happen. Soon." "Thank you, Lieutenant. Please pass my thanks to your security crew, and let me know whatever you develop." "Sir." After arriving on the Bridge, and getting the usual status report from Tigh, Adama thought for a moment. If a ship was seized, having Vipers on alert to follow it, or if possible, prevent it from escaping the Fleet, might be a good idea. He explained his thought to Tigh, then he asked, "Colonel which of our fighter squadrons is not on the patrol rotation, besides Yellow, which is down for maintenance?" "That would be Silver Spar," Tigh said, after checking the schedule. "Very well. Inform Captain Bojay. Silver Spar's pilots are to be on alert, in their ready room, for the next twenty-four centars. Blue Squadron will relieve them tomorrow morning at 0800." Tigh nodded. "Yes, Sir." Aboard Constellation, Lauren had indulged in a rare privilege. Actually, two, to be precise. First, she had slept in. She had been hard at it the past few days, and Captain Byrne had told her the night before to take the day off. "If something happens, chances are, we'll both be involved somehow, so I want you well rested." So she had taken her CO's advice, and only gotten up when she felt like it. Second, one thing about having this cabin, apart from Jena being her cabin mate, was that not only did the cabin have a private head, but also a private shower (it had belonged to Krylon's equally late and unlamented first mate). Lauren was able to take her time in the shower, enjoying the hot water and the clouds of steam, since Constellation's water recycling system was the best in the Fleet, so water conservation wasn't a priority, unlike older ships such as the Century. In fact, the ship's water supply had been refreshed at the planet where she had been found, and was still reasonably "fresh." When she came out of the shower, Jena came into the cabin. She had gone to the Crew Mess for breakfast, and had brought some back for her roomie. "Jen!" Lauren said, hurriedly grabbing her towel and covering up. "You don't have anything to hide from me, roomie," Jen replied. "Besides," she pulled the cover off the plate she was holding. "I've got food." Lauren sighed, and came back into the cabin. She quickly got dressed, and put on her BDUs. Though Byrne had told her to take the day off, she felt that at least, she should be ready if something happened. Before hitting the chow, Lauren checked the chrono: it said 1045. "Haven't slept that late in a long time. Aliens excepted, of course." "You know me. When I don't have classes, I usually sleep this late," Jen said, scooting up to the table across from her. "Or at least since we were rescued from that planet. What do you want to do the rest of the day? 'Cause I don't have anything until tomorrow." Lauren tore into the food. "How about a 'girls day in'? A movie, gossip, whatever." "Sounds good. What's the movie?" "Top Gun," Lauren said. "Back in the '80s, I had this thing for Tom Cruise." Jena nodded. Her father had shown her the movie on the planet she'd grown up on. Several times, in fact. Besides, she said to herself, Cruise was cute. "You're on." On Galactica's Bridge, Adama handed a signed report back to Petty Officer Wu, and turned to his monitor. Before he could switch wavelons, a call came through for him. "Technician Hummer? Yes?" "Sir, the data that was scanned by Septimus' head? I've found where it was sent, Sir." "On my way." He turned to Tigh. "You have the Bridge, Colonel." Aboard the Rising Star, the conspirators were going over last-centon details. "The vid-crew from IFB will be on my shuttle, along with the aides, and Elegabalus' people will be on his." Sire Galerius said to the group. "Once we declare ourselves, you all know your assignments." Heads nodded. "And the Security crew on board?" Mussert asked menacingly. He was a bit too bloodthirsty for the councilmen's tastes, but he had his uses. For the moment. "If they surrender, they will not be harmed. I want this to take place with a minimum amount of force necessary," Galerius reminded his people. "We are a spiritual movement, not pirates or terrorists, after all." He looked at Elegabalus, who nodded approvingly. "Are you clear on that?" "Perfectly, Sire." Mussert replied. He was hoping there would be some resistance, so that he could satisfy his.....tendencies. Just as Galerius was hoping to be able to....dispose of him, once his usefulness had expired. Galerius then addressed his followers. "Now, one other thing. When we arrive at our new world, we will offer the passengers and crew the chance to join us, as long as they follow the tenets of the True Path. However, if they wish to resume this foolish quest, a quest that can only end in their extinction, they will be welcome to do so." He looked around at the faces in front of him, then continued. "We are not pirates, nor are we terrorists. We are acting in defense of our faith, and in accordance with the teachings of our Faith, the true and unadulterated teachings of the Lords of Kobol. Do you understand?" Heads nodded in the affirmative. "May the Lords of Kobol bless us and watch over us. With their help, we shall succeed!" Elagabalus exhorted the group. "May the Lords of Kobol bless us and watch over us. With their help, we shall succeed!" The group chanted back. "Are you sure, Technician?" Adama asked Hummer. They were in Wilker's lab. "Yes, Sir. I am," the tech replied. "I've checked this three times. The data stream goes to the Rising Star, and to a section, here." He pointed to a holographic schematic of the liner. "Nearest I can pin down, the receiver was somewhere in this section. Apart from some storage compartments, the only things here, as far as I know are a couple of offices. Councilar offices for Sixtus and Craiks, the aides to..." "Sires Galerius and Elegabalus, respectively," Adama finished for the tech. As far as Adama was concerned, that sealed matters. If the aides had this information, then the two renegades did as well. "Anything else?" "Yes, Sir," Hummer replied. "Beck's PDA. He's got a number of messages from both councilmen, and the printouts not only mention the sabotage of the Vipers, the failed coup plot, but also something else. Some other plot, but whatever it is, they would only discuss it in person." Adama paused for a centon. Now, he felt, they had enough evidence for warrants, and with luck, could get the whole lot rounded up before anything happened, and no one else got killed. "Get the printouts to Sire Solon, and secure the PDA. And secure Septimus' head as well-it's part of the chain of evidence now. I'll be on the Bridge. And Hummer?" "Yes, Commander?" "Good work," Adama said with barely concealed pride. The tech nodded. "Sir, one question, though. Are we in time to stop, well, whatever this is?" Adama looked at the chrono in the lab. It read 1155. "I'm wondering that myself." In his office, Sire Solon was going over the PDA printouts, as well as Hummer's other information. He nodded to himself. Now I've got you, he thought. Then he contacted Adama on the Bridge. "Yes, Sire Solon?" "Commander, I wanted to tell you first of all. We've got enough evidence, and not just for warrants, but enough to arrest both Sires Galerius and Elegabalus, along with several others." "What charges, Sire?" Adama wanted to know. He was hoping for High Treason, Conspiracy, and that was just the beginning. "High Treason, Conspiracy to commit the same, attempted kidnapping, attempted termination, sabotage, and the list is growing. We've got enough on them. Enough to convict." "How long until the warrants can be served?" Adama asked. If these renegades had something going down, the sooner they were stopped, the better. "At least a centar, Commander. More likely two. I need time to make sure this is done right," Solon replied. "Understood, Sire, but keep in mind that time is of the essence here," Adama said. "If they're up to something in the near term, it's vital that they be stopped before anyone else gets hurt or killed." "I do realize that, Commander. I'll have them ready as soon as possible." "Thank you, Sire," Adama said, and the connection was broken. And Solon went right to work. On the Bridge, Adama turned to Tigh. "Colonel, have Major Croft's team put on full alert and ready to deploy." "The time factor, Commander?" Tigh asked. "Two centars, minimum." "Right away, Commander." Adama looked at the Bridge chrono. It read 1240. "Two centars, Tigh. And maybe, just maybe, we can stop this before it gets started." Two shuttles flew out of the Rising Star's docking bay, and headed for the Delta. In his private shuttle, Sire Galerius was chatting with the crew from IFB. He maintained a straight face, stroking his beard, ever the "man of the people," making sure that the crew had no inkling of what was going to happen once they arrived aboard the Delta. After making the necessary small talk, he sat down next to Hahn. "Ready?" "Yes, Sire. My team secures Engineering, Arminius and his team secures the Common Room, and Mussert's people take the Bridge," Hahn replied. Then we round up as many crew and passengers as possible." "Excellent. And we shall succeed, my friend." Galerius looked at his loyal aide, Sixtus. "You did leave the manifesto and other materials for them to find in my office?" "Yes, Sire, as you instructed. They will understand us once they have read that," Sixtus replied. "Good," Galerius replied, confident of success."Any word on Sherrock?" "None, Sire." "I see." "Sire," Hahn said. "I sincerely hope you are right on this. With Beck not here, there's only two of us who are ex-Military in the entire group. Myself and Arminius." Seeing Galerius nod, he went on. "And I have no desire to have my last sight in this world be one of Croft's men pointing a laser at me." Galerius put his hand on Hahn's shoulder. "Hahn, you're far too pessimistic. Even if that apostate Adama wanted to unleash Croft and his trained killers, the other members of the Council will get in his way, and make him see reason. Thousands in the Fleet will see true reason, rest assured. And we will all be on our way to a new world." "Sire, even if we did, they'll follow us. Viper scanners can outrange this old heap's by several factors, and we wouldn't know they were out there, following us. And after we arrive at a new world, how long would it be until a rescue party arrives and kills every last one of us?" The councilman smiled. "Not to worry, my friend. Adama, for all his faults, is a man of his word, and once he's made the decision to let us go, he will stick to it. Even if it disgusts him to do so." "I pray indeed that you are right on this, Sire." Hahn glared at Galerius. "Because if you're not, we will surely face Croft's SF Team. And if they kill us all, I promise to hunt you through eternity." Before he could respond, Galerius' pilot came in over the PA. "One centon to landing." And so it begins, Galerius thought to himself. Chapter 15: The two Counsular shuttles flew into the Delta's landing bay and touched down, almost out of an Academy exercise. Vance, the Captain of the Delta and an old Academy classmate of Colonel Tigh's, was there to meet them. He watched as first, the IFB crew came out of the first shuttle, then the two councilmen and their aides, along with the rest of their party, came out. Though the vid-crew was a reminder of just how low his opinion was of IFB, he kept that to himself. Then the two councilmen, Galerius and Elegabalus, came up. "Sires, welcome aboard the Delta." "Thank you, Captain," Galerius responded, and Elegabalus echoed that. After introducing the rest of the party, there were handshakes all around, and then Vance conducted them to the Common Room. There, as he understood it, there would be some kind of speech, then a tour of the Delta, and a "meet and greet" with the passengers. As the party went through the ship, Vance pointed out how the passengers, none of them engineers but all willing to put their shoulders to the wheel, had pitched in and made the Delta much more...homey. But still, there was no escaping the fact that the Delta was still a freighter. Though conditions were much improved, and considerably so since fleeing the Colonies, things like there only being two showers available on the whole ship, were things people had to put up with. "All things considered, Sires," Vance said with a touch of pride, " things could be worse." Both councilmen nodded. "You've done a lot, as you said, Captain. And yes, things could be worse," Elegabalus said. "Yes, Sire. We could all be dead, back in the Colonies." "Obviously, Captain," Galerius said as he slipped his hand into this robe and touched his communicator. " But there's something else." "And that is?" Vance asked. "You've strayed from the True Path. You all have," Galerius said, never losing a smile, as he pulled out a laser pistol, and the rest of his party did the same. "This ship is now under the control of the Il Fadim! Do as you are told and you will not be harmed!" He waved the weapon for all to see, and his followers formed into their teams and raced for their assigned targets. Galerius leveled his laser at Vance, "Don't be so foolish, Captain," seeing the Captain turn as if to spring for the Bridge. Ruffio, the First Mate, was headed to the Head when he heard the shouting. He raced for the Bridge and yelled, "Send the anti-piracy alarm! NOW!" Arminius and his people secured the Common Room quickly, disarming the few guards and taking their weapons, and searching the few civilians for weapons as well. Hahn's men were almost as fast, quickly securing Engineering, and thus controlled the ship's life support. Mussert's team reached the Bridge hatch, but found it sealed. Only when Captain Vance was brought up at laser point, and used the telecom to order the hatch opened, did Mussert's men secure the Bridge. "Sire, the Bridge is secure," Mussert told Galerius. "Excellent, Mussert. Now, take some men, and sweep the ship. If you find any stragglers..." Galerius drew his forefinger across his throat. Mussert grinned. "Yes, Sire." Aboard the Base Ship, Auspex, the duty communications Centurion, was scanning the frequency bands when the computer detected a signal from the Delta. He isolated the signal, and when the computer identified it as a Colonial anti-piracy alarm, he called for Moray. Moray came in, took one look at the display, and hit the communicator. "Commander Baltar to the Control Center! Urgent!" Baltar and Ayesha had just finished lunch in their quarters when Moray's call came. He rushed into the Control Center. "Yes, Moray?" "By your command. We have detected a Colonial Anti-Piracy Alarm coming from the Delta." "Are you sure?" Baltar asked, seeing the display for himself. "Confirmed," Moray replied. "Commence focused jamming targeted at that ship. All frequencies except the ship-to-ship emergency channel." Baltar ordered, recalling instructions received from the Galactica two days earlier, reminding all ships of anti-piracy and anti-hijacking protocols. "By your command." "And Moray? Notify the Galactica at once!" On Galactica's Bridge, Adama was talking with Starbuck. The Lieutenant had just raced up from Red Squadron's ready area. "Commander, Chameleon just sent me a text. Whatever's going to happen, he's sure it's going to be today." "Does he know when?" "No, Commander, but he's been around enough times to know when something's going down. Like when a pyramid player's about to reveal his hand. Several people have disappeared from their usual haunts, a couple of ex-military personnel, and a council aide, even." Starbuck said. "I'm putting it together..." Then there was a shout from Rigel. "Commander! The Delta's sending the anti-hijacking alarm!" Adama slammed his fist on the bridge rail. "Two centars. Two centars too late," he muttered. Then he turned to Rigel. "Begin targeted jamming on that ship. All frequencies except the emergency channel." "Yes, Sir!" "Tigh, notify Sires Pelias, Tinia, and Xaviar. And Siress Lydia as well. Ask them to meet me in the Ward Room as soon as possible." "Right away, Commander." "Commander," Omega spoke up. "Message from the Base Ship. 'Anti-piracy signal received from the Delta. Anti-hijacking protocols implemented.'" Adama nodded. "Give Command Centurion Moray my thanks, and have them stand by for further orders." "Sir." Tigh came back over to Adama. "Commander, the council members will be here in twenty centons or so. None of them are on the Galactica at present." "Very well, Tigh." Adama paused for a centon. "Notify the Constellation. Inform them of what's happened, and request the presence of Captain Byrne and Sergeant Wagner aboard the Galactica." "Right away, Commander." On Constellation's Bridge, Dante, the Exec, turned to Byrne. "Sir, it's the Galactica calling." He fed the message to Byrne's station. "Well, it's started," Byrne said. "Mr. Dante, have the Armstrong prepped for immediate launch. I'll notify Sergeant Wagner myself." He got up to go, then turned to Dante. "You have the deck until I return. No telling when that's going to be." "Sir." Byrne then went to his cabin, and printed out some of his notes on counter-terrorist doctrine and procedures. Eschewing the smuggling compartment, he went next door, to the cabin his daughter shared with Sergeant Wagner. Inside the cabin, Top Gun's closing credits were rolling, and Cheap Trick's Mighty Wings was playing. "Well, what now?" Jena was asking. "Your turn," Lauren said as she went into the head. Then there was a Ping at the door. Jena got up to see who it was. "Pop! I thought you were on duty?" "Where's Lauren? Because something's come up, and they need both of us on Galactica. Now." Wagner came out of the head. She'd heard it all. "What's up, Sir?" "They've gone ahead and done it, Sergeant. Those Il Fadim nuts have seized a ship, the Delta, and taken hostages. Over a hundred," Byrne said. "Commander Adama wants both of us on Galactica now, if not sooner." Wagner nodded, and grabbed her web belt and holster, with the Mark-23 inside. "Sorry, Jen. At least we had a good breakfast and a good movie." Jen nodded. "Oh, well. Duty calls." "Something like that. I'll make it up to you." Byrne nodded approval. Having a day to themselves was something he knew the both of them needed. "Jen, no idea when we'll be back." "Don't worry. I won't wait dinner for you two. Just take care of those creeps. For good." Byrne and Wagner headed straight for the docking bay, and found Ensign Adele waiting for them at the Armstrong. And they had hardly strapped in when she got clearance to launch, and the shuttle flew out of the bay and set course for the battlestar. Aboard the Delta, Mussert and his men were searching the ship, and so far, had found no stragglers. The ex-merchant captain was in a foul mood, not having anyone to take out his anger and frustration on. So much so, that in his anger, he missed a storage compartment-and its lone occupant. Ensign Hunley watched from her hiding place. She'd heard the announcement over the PA system declaring the ship under the control of the Il Fadim, and her training as a Warrior had kicked in. She had one laser, and knew full well that trying anything was going to get her killed. So she watched the hijackers, counted faces, and noted six or seven going back and forth between the forepart of the ship and aft. Nodding, she ducked into a maintenance crawlspace, pulled out her PDA, and sent a message, hoping the intended recipient would get it-soon. On the Galactica, Adama headed straight to the Ward Room. He found Siress Lydia already there, as he knew that as Council VP, she had a right to know. Then Sires Pelias, Tinia, and Xaviar came in. "Commander," Xaviar said. "They've gone off and done it. Captain Byrne was right." "Yes, Sire, I'm afraid he was," Adama said. "Only two more centars, and Sire Solon would have had warrants ready to be served." "Unfortunate, but the process of the law has its own pace," Tinia remarked. "And often, it's not fast enough in these types of circumstances." "Which criminals often exploit," Pelias grumbled, arms crossed in front of him. "Exactly so," Adama agreed. "Now, where are..." Just then, both Captain Byrne and Sergeant Wagner came into the Ward Room. "Commander," Byrne said as both saluted. "Captain, Sergeant, thank you for coming," Adama said. "You know what we know, which isn't much. Now, we're going to be drawing on your training and experience in dealing with terrorists, so any suggestions might just as well be orders, given our own lack of experience in these matters." Byrne and Wagner looked at each other. Son of a Bitch, he mouthed to her, and she nodded. "Sir, we'll do the best we can." "Given what's at stake, that's all any of us can do," Adama said. Before he could continue, the viewscreen came to life, with Tigh's voice. "Commander, there's a transmission coming from the Delta. On the Emergency Channel." Adama looked around the room. The council members were seated, while Byrne and Wagner were glued to the screen. "Feed it here." The viewscreen then showed the Delta's bridge, with the two renegade councilmen. Adama stood there, arms folded in front of him, as Galerius spoke. "Adama. I see you have some of the Council there, and two of the Earthers there as well. Good." "What is the meaning of this?" Adama asked. "All that we ask-that is, Elegabalus, myself, and our followers, is this: if the Il Fadim cannot practice our faith in this Fleet, then we have to act in defense of it. We have been harassed and persecuted by you and the other infidels long enough." "And still, you plotted to seize power in a coup," Tinia pointed out. "We felt we had no choice. We have to act in order to defend the True Faith and the True Path. Now, since we're in control of the Delta, and have the lives of over a hundred people at our mercy, here are our demands. They are non-negotiable." Pelias spoke. "You speak of faith, and yet, you have gone off and committed Piracy, just like any other criminal thug." "Enough!" Galerius said. "You do not understand. We are not pirates, nor are we terrorists, nor traitors. We want those of the faithful that you have persecuted and abused, beginning with our leader, Sherrock, returned to us on the Delta. We demand navigational information about habitable worlds within range of the Fleet, so that we may establish our own settlement there, free from the persecution that you, and the other members of the Council allow and forment against us." "I see. And you will release the Delta and the hostages when?" Adama asked. "When we have established our settlement, and are satisfied that there is no pursuit, then we will release the ship and those aboard who wish to continue this foolish quest," Elegabalus said, speaking for the first time. You have eight centars, or we start killing hostages. One every centar, until our demands are met. And we will kill all of the hostages, should there be any kind of a rescue mission. We will be in touch, in four centars, to see if our just demands are being met." Then the screen went blank. "Well," Adama said after a centon or two of silence. "Those are demands that we cannot agree to." He looked at his fellow Council members, who nodded. "Captain, Sergeant, do you have any suggestions for a course of action?" "Sir, this is just like the aircraft hijackings that were a problem for many yahrens on Earth. Seizure of the aircraft, list of demands, safe passage to a destination of the terrorists' choosing, and so on," Byrne said, seeing Wagner nod. "So, Captain, how do we proceed?" Xaviar asked. Bryne took a deep breath. He had the rough outline of a plan in his head on the way over, but now it was time to flesh it out, putting meat on the bones, so to speak. "First, we'll need Major Croft over here, right away. Tigh, also, and get Baltar on the line as well." He saw the looks of some in the room at the mention of that name. "I know, he's about as popular around here as the proverbial nest of snakes, but we'll need him to make this work. And I'll need Technician Hummer, to handle things computer-wise." Adama nodded, and contacted the Bridge. Within centons, Tigh, Croft, and Hummer were there in the Ward Room, and Baltar was on the line from the Base Ship as well. After everyone had been brought up to speed, Byrne began. "All right. In three hou...centars, the terrorists will be back on the line to see if their demands are going to be met. I assume that what Major Croft needs most of all is intelligence: how many terrorists, how are they armed, where are they positioned, location of the hostages, and so on?" Seeing Croft nod, he went on. "And I know how to get it." "What do you mean, Captain?" Lydia asked. "Simple, Siress. And this is where you, Commander Baltar, come in." "I? How so?" Baltar asked. He was incredulous. Byrne turned to Adama. "Commander, when the terrorists come back on the line, I suggest that you tell them that before you can give them safe passage to a world, the nearby systems need to be checked out. Environmental data, alternate choices, that sort of thing." He turned to Tigh. "Colonel, are there any systems within patrol range of the Fleet?" "There are, Captain," Tigh replied, punching up a holographic display of the latest real-time scanner data from both the Galactica and the Base Ship. "Two, to be precise. One system, here at twenty-three degress port off our course, Z-minus four. And another, six degrees to starboard, Z-minus nine." He zoomed in. One system had eight planets, circling a yellow sun. The other had eight, orbiting a binary system. Range data scrolled by. "Good," Byrne said. "So, you'll need patrols to investigate those systems. And under current procedures, they are joint Colonial and Cylon, correct?" "Ah," Baltar said. "Added patrols to survey those systems. Which, I take it, will require the terrorists to extend their deadline." "I was just about to say that, Baltar,"Adama said, and he saw the traitor smile. "And that gives Major Croft the additional time he needs to draw up an assault plan." He saw the commando leader nod. "There's one other thing," Byrne noted. "You should ask them to show their good faith, and release a few hostages. It makes them feel confident, and in fact, it might just make them overconfident. If they seriously think they'll win this, it'll make these scum lower their guard, and that can have fatal consequences for them." "I see," Pelias said. "Lulling them into a false sense of security, in other words." "Correct, Sire. The more they let down their guard, the better the chances are for an assault to succeed," Byrne said. "And if they do release a few hostages, that gives the Major the intelligence needed to finalize an assault plan and have a brief rehearsal." "I need that, Commander," Croft said. "Going in blind is just asking for trouble." Adama nodded. "We'll get it for you, Major." "All we need, then, is time, and a few released hostages, and this can work," Byrne said. "Sergeant, any comments?" Wagner took a deep breath. "I need to point out two things. First, they are likely to release hostages that they can do without. Any small children, pregnant women, sick or elderly people. Those that they can show their mercy and try to gain credibility at the same time." She saw those in the room, and Baltar, nod. "Second, and this is very important. When Croft's men do storm that ship, don't bother with trying to take any of the terrorists alive." Lydia was shocked. She'd never heard of anything like this before. "Is that necessary, Sergeant?" "Siress, right now, the main concern is getting the hostages back safely. All it takes to turn this into a bloodbath is one terrorist throwing a grenade amongst the hostages, or turning on them with a laser set to automatic. Even blowing an airlock, as one final gesture of defiance. Hostage rescue is the most dangerous mission any special operations force can execute, and you can't take any chances with terrorists, ever. That means going all the way, and taking them all out. In plain language, Siress, that means killing every last one of them." "I agree with the Sergeant's assessment, Commander," Croft said. "Anyone with weapon in hand, or trying to go for one, dies. No exceptions." Heads nodded around the table. Adama had to admit, both Byrne and Wagner were right. He didn't like it, but there was no other choice. "Very well, we'll proceed as Captain Byrne has suggested. Is there anything else at present?" "Commander," Byrne said. "Croft's going to need a diversion so he can dock his assault shuttle. I have some ideas, but I'll need Hummer to run some sims." "I'll be glad to be of help, Sir," Hummer said. "Good. One other thing," Byrne said. "We'll be here a while, so you might as well have meals brought in." "Right, Captain," Adama admitted. "And all the java you can get. We'll be living on it." Chapter 16: In the Galactica's SF Training Area, Croft was briefing his troopers. He'd gone over what had happened on the Delta, what they were likely going to be called upon to do, and fielded questions. "All right, then. Sergeant Wagner won't be going with us, but she will be in and out, giving whatever advice she can, and helping with the big picture as well. But she has something to say to all of you. Sergeant?" Wagner stepped forward and looked over the troopers. She'd trained them as best she could, and now, her students were about to graduate. With combat being their final exam. Deja vu all over again! That thought crossed her mind as she began to speak. "You guys are trained on those weapons as best I can manage in the time we have. You've all done well, and consider this to be your final exam. Passing means those hostages are safe, you all come back alive, those terrorists meet their maker, with their corpses left drifting in this fleet's wake for all eternity. I don't need to remind you of the price of failure, not just to yourselves, but to a lot of innocent people, so don't make that an option." She looked over the troopers again. "Questions?" "Ma'am," Tellus, Castor's Security partner, raised his hand. "What about taking any of the terrorists alive?" "Don't," Wagner said. "I told this to the Commander and a few members of the Council. You can't take any chances with terrorists. They're fanatical, dedicated beyond reason to their cause, and more than willing to take as many of us with them as they can. The lives of the hostages depend on it, and since those lives mean nothing to them, don't even bother trying." She looked over the troopers again. "That means killing them all." Several troopers looked at Croft, who nodded. "All right, Sergeant. You're our terrorism expert here. If this was your operation, where would you have your people?" He called up a holo schematic of the Delta. Wagner looked at the display. She'd gone over it already, but another look might pick up something she missed. Then she pointed out likely targets. "The Bridge is obvious. I'd have a few men watching the Bridge crew. Second, Engineering. You can control all of the ship's systems from there, and can even override the Bridge on critical functions, such as life support. The docking bay is also obvious: it's a logical point of entry for any assault. Finally, the Common Room: it's where the rest of the hostages are likely to be, since that's where they can be easily guarded." Heads nodded. Croft looked at Castor, who said, "That's how I'd do it, Major." "Good. Any idea as to how many terrorists?" Croft asked. "Until we get a few hostages released, any numbers will be guesswork only," Wagner said. She thought for a moment. "Best guess will be between twenty and thirty." "All right, then. We'll plan for that number. Now, let's get our heads together and come up with an assault plan I can present to the Commander." Croft told everyone. "Sir," Kunis said, raising his hand, "I think Engineering ought to be our first target." Croft and Wagner looked at each other, then Croft pointed to the trooper. "Explain, if you would, Corporal." "Yes, Sir. All of the ship's systems can be controlled from there, and in some cases, can even overrride the Bridge. Take that first, and we can stop them from shutting down Life Support from the Bridge, for example." Croft nodded. "Good thinking, Corporal." He looked at Wagner. "What do you think, Sergeant?" "He's on to something, Major." Wagner paused, looking at the holographic schematic of the Delta. "There's one other target you need to hit before storming the Common Room. The Bridge." Croft and Castor looked at her as if she'd suddenly grown two heads. "How?" Castor asked. "Look here," Wagner pointed to the maintenance crawlspaces. "You can use these crawlspaces to get to the Bridge. You're going to need to hit the Common Room from every angle, and there's the hatch leading to the Bridge from there. Secure the Bridge after Engineering, and you can keep anyone from running to the Bridge and using the crew there as potential bargaining tools." Castor studied the crawlspaces. "Major, she's right. I'll lead a small team to secure the Bridge." "All right, Castor, that's yours," Croft said. "Select the eight best shots you can." On Constellation's bridge, Dante was going over things again. Shaking his head at something he thought had been left in their past, he was trying to keep a normal routine on the ship, despite having to stand a double watch: he'd not only stood in for Captain Byrne, but had begun his own regular watch as well. Then a vibrating came from his pants pocket. It was his PDA. Puzzled, he checked it, and got a big surprise. He sent a response, then got an answer back. He then went over to Alyssia, the duty communications officer. "Get me the Galactica; Comander Adama and Captain Byrne. At once." In the battlestar's Ward Room, Adama and Byrne were going over the Delta's schematics, as well as information for the two nearby systems. And something had occurred to Byrne. "Commander, with those two patrols getting ready to launch, there's something we might consider." "What is it, Captain?" Adama asked, and the council members were paying close attention. "I take it the frequency used for launch and recovery is not encrypted, unlike the tactical frequency?" "That's right, Captain. What are you getting at?" "Well, Commander, if our friends on the Delta are listening in, and we'd be fools to think they aren't, and they hear four voices that the IFB bunch keeps at the fore...." Pelias stood up. "I get it, Captain. Apollo, Sheba, Boomer, and Starbuck." "Exactly, Sire." Byrne said. "If they hear that those four are going off on the special patrols, they'll relax just a little. They may think that any raid or rescue attempt will involve those four, and if they hear their voices on the com, as they head out..." "One more reason for the terrorists not to expect an attack," Adama finished for Byrne. "Good thinking, Captain. I'll get them here right away." Before Adama could get to a telecom. Tigh came on the line from the Bridge. "Commander, there's a message for you and Captain Byrne. From the Constellation." "Very well, Colonel. Let's have it," Adama ordered. Dante's image came on the screen. "Commander, Captain. We may have a source on the Delta." Byrne came up. He looked at Adama, who nodded. "A source? What is it, Mr. Dante?" "Sir, Ensign Hunley's been serving her punishment detail, doing Fleet Inventory checks. She's on board the Delta, and has evaded capture. She has some information for us." "Does she, now? Mr. Dante, what's she got for us?" Byrne asked. "Sir, she's closer to Engineering than the Bridge, but she said there's about five or six terrorists in the former. Some movement back and forth, but that's about it. No real total numbers so far, though. Second, she's picked up a few names: Vidkun, Mussert, and she's certain that a couple of them have a military bearing about them," Dante reported. "Their names?" Adama asked. "Arminus and Hahn, Sir." Dante said. Adama called up computer records for both. Their records made lamentable reading, but given their past, their involvement in something like this was certainly possible. Byrne looked at the records, and nodded. "Murderer's Row, Commander," and Adam simply nodded. "Stand by, Mr. Dante. Commander, she's our eyes and ears at the moment. Until we get some hostages released....." "Captain Byrne is right, Commander," Xaviar said. "We need information from her, not heroics." "Agreed." Adama said. "Dante, tell her we need just that. Information, not heroics. As Captain Byrne said, she's our eyes and ears at the moment." "Yes, Sir! I'll let her know, and I'll be in touch as soon as I have more for you." "Very well," Adama said, and the link was broken. He looked at the chrono. Just over a centar until the next transmission from the Delta. "Time to get the pilots in here," he said. Seeing Byrne nod, he had the four summoned to the Ward Room. In her hiding place on the Delta, Hunley felt her PDA vibrate. She checked it, and smiled. Now I can get to work, she thought, as she began to make her way forward. To the Common Room and the Bridge. A few centons later, the four Viper pilots came into the Ward Room. All were wondering why they had been called for specifically, and had, like nearly everyone else, not heard about the Delta. After they had been brought up to speed, both Adama and Byrne could tell that tempers were about to flare, like a solar storm. Apollo was level-headed, but the other three were clearly upset. "Those Il Fadim were always a crazy bunch, but this crazy?" Starbuck asked. "There's always a first time for everything, Lieutenant," Adama said. "Now, Apollo. You and Sheba will take one patrol, to the system at Z-minus nine. Boomer and Starbuck, you'll take the other one. Baltar's been notified, and your usual patrol partners will be flying with you." "Yes, Commander," Apollo said. "How much time do we have to complete this?" "Commander, may I?" Byrne asked. Seeing Adama nod approval, he told the four, "Take your time on this one, and let your Cylon counterparts know as well. The more time you take on this, the better our chances of successfully concluding this. Since there are planets to scan thoroughly, maybe even planetary landings, it should take longer. Or so I understand, anyway. In any event, hopefully, it should be over by the time you come back. And there's this: if these scum are listening in, and I'd bet any amount of money on Starbuck's next system that they are, and hear your voices over the com channel on departure, they'll relax their guard down some. So be chatty in your post-launch communications. They may think that any raid on them will involve you four, so if you're gone, they'll let down their guard. And pay for that later," Byrne finished by drawing his forefinger across his throat. "Any questions?" "When do we launch?" Sheba asked. "Right after this briefing," Adama replied. "Good luck, and as Captain Byrne said, it should be over by the time you return." After Sheba, Boomer, and Starbuck had left the room, Apollo held back for a moment. "Apollo," Adama asked, "Is she holding up?" "She's tough, Father. Just like her own father. She'll hang in there." "Good. I pray to the Lords that she does. Now, you'd best get going." "Yes, Commander." Ten centons later, the four Vipers launched, and after meeting up with their Cylon counterparts, peeled off for their target systems. On the Delta, the two renegade councilmen were on the Bridge, listening in on the com line. Though the ship's scanners were antiquated by Colonial standards, they were able to confirm the launch of four Vipers, and the four corresponding Raiders from the Base Ship. "You see, Elegabalus?" Galerius said, motioning to the tracks on the screen as the ships headed out. "Adama will give in. With those four going out, there's no chance of a rescue attempt." "And if they try to use the fighters to force us to surrender?" "And do what? Blow us up? That will certainly save the hostages, won't it?" Galerius said. "I pray that you are right," his colleague said. "Still..." "Beginning to have doubts, are we? This seizure was your idea, as I recall." "None before, none now, my friend," Elegabalus said, slapping his colleague on the shoulder as he turned away from the instruments. "But that leaves Croft and his band of killers that can be trouble." "The Council will force him to see reason, even if he is planning something. I know these people, as do you." Galerius reminded him. "With people like Pelias, Tinia, Xaviar, and even Lydia? We've lost far more Council votes than we've won, and at times, we were the only two in favor. Like with that brat of Byrne's! Not only did the Council not see reason, and permit her to take Colonial citizenship if she wanted, but they recognized her as a dual citizen! Not just Colonial, but in the Earth nation of her parents' birth! Then there was the motion to recognize the Earth military personnel as simply being on a temporary duty status, and receiving pay equal to their Colonial rank equivalent. All of the Council voted against us in both instances. And those are just two of the votes we lost!" Elegabalus grumbled. "I felt betrayed." "All of that is in the past, my friend," Galerius said, patting his colleague on the shoulder. He checked the scanners, seeing that the Vipers and Raiders were out of range, then he looked at the chrono. It was time enough. He turned to Mussert, who was leading the faithful watching the Bridge crew. "It's time enough. Contact the Galactica." "Yes, Sire." In the Ward Room, Adama and Byrne were checking the chrono, for about the eighth time, it seemed. "Not much longer, Commander," Byrne said, and Adama merely nodded. "Commander, Captain," Tigh's voice came over the viewscreen. "Incoming message from the Delta. I'm feeding it to you." The screen came to life, and with Galerius and Elegabalus in full view. "Well, Adama?" Galerius s aid. "Have you and those mindless ovines following you considered our demands?" Adama knew now that all his skills as a diplomat would be put to the test. "A formal Council session will be held this evening, to consider your demands. However, as you may have noted, I have dispatched a pair of patrols to investigate two planetary systems within range of the Fleet. They will survey any habitable worlds, and return with their information." "Excellent." "However..." Elegabalus got closer to the camera. "Yes, Adama?" "The target systems are at such a distance from the Fleet that the patrols will be gone for some time. The first patrol won't be back for eighteen centars, and the second one will be gone for twenty-four. The pilots will be in sleep mode, for part of the way." Adama said. "One moment, Adama," Galerius said, cutting in. "He's stalling," Elegabalus said. "I can feel it." "Twenty-four centars isn't unreasonable. If the target systems are that far away, we have no choice." "Very well," Elegabalus grumbled. "All right, Adama," Galerius said. "You have twenty-four centars, no more." "Thank you, Sire," Adama said, trying not to choke on the title. "Now, since I have shown some good faith, one can expect a similar gesture on your part. Perhaps, to show your good faith in this matter, a few hostages can be released?" Galerius looked at his colleague, who reluctantly nodded. "Very well. Five hostages will be released. One shuttle, with a single pilot. And that pilot and ship will be thoroughly searched. In one centar." "Of course, Sire," Adama said, and the Delta cut the connection. In the Ward Room, Adama and Byrne shook hands. "Five," Byrne said. "I would've been happy with just two." "And we have the deadline extended," Tinia noted. "Commander, you played that part well." "Thank you, Siress," Adama said. "Soon, the Lords willing, it will be in Major Croft's hands. One shuttle, with a single pilot. I'll inform Flight Operations." He went to the telecom and gave the order. While Adama was doing that, Byrne looked again at the schematics of the Delta. Something caught his eye, and Pelias noted his attention. "Captain?" "Sire, everyone, take a look at this." Byrne motioned to the Common Room. "Here, at the aft end of the Common Room, and forward, there's hatches that lead below, to this passage." He was silent for a moment. "This passageway leads to the docking bay....yes. If these two and a few of their followers think they're going to lose, they'll use this." "To get away?" Lydia asked. She'd been following things, but had had very little to say. "Why?" "Siress," Byrne said. "Terrorist leadership on Earth rarely goes out into the field and gets their hands both dirty and bloody. Osama bin Laden and his deputy, Ayman al-Zwahari rarely went out and risked their own hides. They usually let others die first. The Red Army Faction/Baader-Meinhof Gang in Germany, and the Red Brigades did in Italy, but they were the exceptions. These two strike me as the kind, who, when things go bad, are going to try and save their own worthless skins." "They wouldn't get very far, Captain," Adama pointed out. "Vipers could run them down easily." "True, Commander, but when the 'fight or flight' instinct takes hold, any kind of rational thinking goes out the turboflush," Byrne noted. "And I have an idea on what to do if they do run. Once Hummer finishes with those sims I've asked him to run, I'll be able to develop this further." In a maintenance crawlspace on the Delta, Hunley stopped, above the Common Room. She made a count of the terrorists, and of the hostages. She noted that five-a pregnant woman, two pre-teenage children, and two elderly men, were taken down, presumably to the docking bay. She then crawled towards the Bridge, where she noted that the Bridge crew were still at their stations, with six terrorists watching them, along with the two rogue councilmen. Taking her time, she managed to get back to her hiding place, where she composed a message on her PDA, then sent it. And sat back to wait. On the bridge of the Constellation, Dante felt his PDA vibrate. He took it, and found he had a message from Hunley. He read it, and smiled. "Alyssia," he said to the communications officer. "Get me the Galactica, right away." "Commander," Tigh reported from the Bridge. "Incoming from the Constellation." In the Ward Room, Adama, Byrne, and the council members waited. Then Dante's face appeared on the viewscreen. "Commander, Captain. I have some more information." Adama nodded. "What does Ensign Hunley have for us?" "She's managed to check out the Bridge and the Common Room, using some maintenance crawlspaces." "Stand by, Mr. Dante," Byrne said as he called up the schematic of the Delta. "All right, what does she say?" "Sir, she says there's five to seven watching the Bridge crew, which is normally six, and that's not counting the two Councilmen, who seem to go back and forth regularly. She also mentioned a name for the terrorist in charge of the Bridge: Mussert." "That...character," Xaviar noted. "I remember him all too well. His iron-fisted treatment of his merchant crew bordered on the inhumane, almost landing him in prison, and sparked a mutiny." "Indeed, Sire," Adama said, recalling the incident. "And he was rejected by the military after the Holocaust for just that reason." "Motive and opportunity," Byrne noted. "What else, Mr. Dante?" "Sir, there's about a dozen terrorists in and around the Common Room. Nearly all the hostages are there, apart from those on the Bridge or in Engineering. She wasn't able to get to the Docking Bay, but..." "Mr. Dante, we should be getting a few hostages released in just under a centar," Byrne said. "We'll debrief them, and hopefully, they'll enable us to fill in the blanks." He turned to Adama. "Commander, I suggest that she lay low for a while. If she has to move to avoid capture, fine, but no unnecessary risks in gathering information." "I agree completely," Adama said. "Dante, relay just that to Hunley. Continue to gather information, but try and keep a low profile. And no unnecessary risks." He looked at Byrne. "We'll have further instructions for her in a while. And see if she can use whatever she is carrying to send us some real-time streaming scans." "Yes, Sir," Dante replied. "And add one more thing from all of us: Good work." Dante nodded, "Commander," then the screen went blank. Then the telecom buzzed: it was Flight Ops. Sergeant Mackin was ready to depart in her shuttle. In her hiding place on the Delta, Hunley felt her PDA vibrate. She checked the incoming message from the Commander and grinned. And the 'Good work' from the Commander was a bonus. Chapter 17: Sergeant Mackin flew her shuttle towards the Delta. As she'd been briefed over the com by the Commander, she was alone, and had no recording devices, as the terrorists were likely to be paranoid about such things, though the shuttle's own cameras would still be on. And she was to do exactly as she was told to do. As she approached, her board lit up; they had her. She then contacted the Delta. "Delta Control, Galactica Shuttle 355. Request landing instructions." "Shuttle 355, this is Delta Control. You may dock. After docking, power down, leave your ship, and keep your hands visible. You and your ship will be searched." "Acknowledged, Delta Control." Mackin replied, and flew the shuttle into the Docking Bay. After docking, and powering down her engines, she left the shuttle, doing exactly as she had been told. She then watched as six men and two women, all armed either Colonial lasers or other lasers-probably from RB-33, she thought. Four of the men went to the shuttle, while the other two, and the women came to her. They glared at Mackin, then one of the women said, "Strip. You will be searched." Right here, on the fracking deck? Boray! She thought. Mackin shrugged her shoulders, hiding her outrage and vowing revenge, then she took her clothes off. The terrorists went through her clothes, none too gently, and she was herself given a through going-over. To Mackin, they seemed disappointed that there was nothing to be found, then one of the women said, "You can get dressed." As she did so, the four who'd been in the shuttle came out. "It's clean." Then one of those who'd searched her gear waved, and five people-a woman who was obviously pregnant, two young boys, and two elderly men, came into the bay. The woman who'd done all the talking told her. "They're yours. Power up and get out of here." Mackin waved the civilians into the shuttle, then she got in, fired up the engines, and flew out of the bay. Glad that was over, she called the Galactica. "Galactica, this is Shuttle 355. I've got five hostages, all of whom look uninjured, and request landing clearance." "You're cleared for Alpha Bay. Medtechs are standing by," Omega called from the Bridge. "Acknowledged, Galactica." Mackin flew the shuttle into a perfect landing. After she had taxied in, and shut down the engines, she escorted the freed hostages off the shuttle. And not unsurprisingly, Commander Adama and Captain Byrne were there. Adama asked, "Well, Sergeant, how did it go?" "About what I expected, Commander," she replied crisply. "Though being strip-searched was a surprise." "Didn't think about that before," Byrne nodded. "Sorry we didn't warn you. All right, then. How many terrorists in the bay?" Mackin nodded. "Eight. Six male, two female. All armed. Several of them had Colonial lasers, but a few had weapons I've never seen before." "Probably acquired from RB-33, no doubt," Adama said, recalling what Starbuck had told him, and Byrne nodded agreement. "Any sign of explosives in the bay?" Byrne asked. "No, Sir, none that I could see. But they didn't let me look around much. It was in and out." "Thanks, Sergeant," Byrne replied. He turned to Adama. "That answers that." "It certainly does, Captain," Adama agreed. He turned to the freed hostages, who had Cassie looking at them. "How are they, Cassie?" "All are fine, Commander, though we'll have to get the pregnant woman to Life Center for a checkup. She's a couple of sectons from being due." Cassie said. "We need talk to them, Cassie," Byrne said. "How soon?" "Give us a centar, Captain," she replied. "After that, they'll be all yours." She then took the releasees to Life Center. "Commander, we'll need Sergeant Wagner over here to talk to them. She's had training in dealing with crime victims in her law-enforcement job, and that will be useful," Byrne told Adama. "Agreed, and having a woman talk to them would make it less stressful on them," Adama said. He went over to a telecom and called the SF Training Area. "Commander Adama for Major Croft." "One moment, Sir," a voice responded. Then the commando leader came on the line. "Croft here, Sir." "Major, we've got five freed hostages. They're being examined in Life Center right now, as we speak. In a centar or so, they'll be available for debriefing. Have Sergeant Wagner report there in one centar." "Yes, Commander." "How's your assault plan coming along?" "Give us three or four centars, and I'll have it firmed up for you," Croft replied. "We're kind of busy right now." In the background, Adama could hear the now-familiar sound of gunfire. "Understood, Major. Keep me informed," Adama told his commando leader. "And let me know when your assault plan is ready." "Yes, Sir!" By now, Lauren had been aboard Galactica enough times that she knew her way around the warship, apart from the restricted areas, almost as much as Captain Byrne did. Even so, she was still intimidated by the vast size of the battlestar at times, and more than once, she had to ask a crew member for directions. This time, that wasn't a problem, and she easily found her way to Life Center. There, she found Commander Adama, Captain Byrne, and both Sires Pelias and Xavair, waiting. "Commander," she said, saluting. "Sergeant," Adama replied, returning her salute. "The freed hostages will be yours shortly. Captain Byrne tells me that you have had experience with situations such as this." "Yes, Sir, and thank you, Sir," Wagner replied. "We'll do this as a group. Since they were likely held together in the same place, there's no need to split them up and get separate stories. That'll take time, and time is something we do not have enough of in this instance." "Indeed, Sergeant," Xaviar said. Then Salik came out. "Commander, everyone. You can talk to the freed hostages." "How are they, Doctor?" Adama wanted to know. "The pregnant woman's not about to give birth, if that's what you're worried about," Salik replied. "They're all fine, given what they've just come from. No signs of violence or abuse, and they want to talk." "Good, Doctor," Adama said. "Sergeant Wagner will be handling the debriefing. She's done this kind of thing before." "Understood, Commander. If you'll all follow me." Salik then led the party into Life Center, then into a small ward, with ten beds. There, several medtechs were attending to the freed hostages. Wagner turned to the party. "Remember, they're still concerned for those they left behind, so they're naturally nervous. If you have questions of your own, please wait until I'm finished, and please, be respectful and polite." Heads noded, and Adama told her. "You're running this, Sergeant. We're just onlookers for now." Lauren nodded, then went over to Cassie and asked, "Ready?" "They're all yours, Sergeant," she replied. "The woman's name is Niobe, the two boys are Dani and Dari, and the two older men are Nieman and Heimer. She handed a pad to Wagner, with medical informaion and bios on all five. Lauren quickly studied the information: Niobe: Age twenty-four yahrens. Intern in a government office on Virgon prior to the Holocaust. No known surviving family. Now assigned to the Delta as a nursery attendant, cook, and part-time steward. No known criminal record. Baby's father unknown. Dari: Age: fourteen yahrens. Survivor of an agro community on Cancera. Parents believed killed in the Holocaust. Dani: Age: twelve yahrens. Younger brother of Dari. Nieman: Age: Eighty-four yahrens. Former Professor at the University of Aquaria. Retired Warrior with thirty yahrens of service. Heimer.: Age: Eighty-one yahrens. Retired Warrior turned merchant crewman turned agro manager. Twenty-sixh yahrens in uniform. "Thanks, Cassie," Wagner said, then she pulled up a chair. "Everyone, I'm Staff Sergeant Lauren Wagner-" "The Earth lady," Heimer said. "I saw you on IFB." And the others nodded. "Thank you. Nice to see I have some fans," and the ex-hostages laughed. "Now, I have some questions to ask, and when I'm finished, the others may have some of their own as well. When they're done, I'm going to need some personal accounts of what happened aboard your ship, from the beginning, so that we'll know for sure what's been going on since the takeover." She saw them nod, then said, "Why don't we start from the beginning. First with Niobe, then the two gentlemen, then the kids." All five had basically the same story: the terrorists showing up outside their compartments, shoving everyone to the Common Room at gunpoint, where they were all searched, and everyone was now either sitting or laying down. Now, there were a dozen or so terrorists watching the hostages, though some others were going in-and-out. And the two renegade councilmen were going back-and-forth between the Bridge and the Common Room. As far as they knew, no one had been killed, but several security men and other crew had been badly roughed up in the initial seizure. "And that's it, Sergeant," Dari said. "After they roughed some of us up, they just seemed to ignore us, pretty much." Wagner nodded. She'd been taking notes on an old-fashioned notepad, left over from the Saint Brendan. "All right, now. What's their demeanor? Are they confident, frightened, confused, what?" "I'd say pretty confident, though a few were frightened," Heimer said. "I lived through a few pirate raids in my day as a merchant crewman, and they were just the same." "Anything else on those lines?" Lauren asked. "One of them tried to convert us to their cult," Nieman said. "How we all had to repudiate Adama and the quest for Earth, and embrace the True Path, whatever that is. After a while, he got frustrated and shut up." Niobe chimed in. "I heard one of them saying that he didn't want his last sight in this world to be Croft sticking a laser in his face. And his partner nodded." Wagner let out a grin. "Hopefully, something along those lines can be arranged. We have a saying on Earth: 'The only good terrorist is a dead one.'" And the ex-hostages smiled at that. "Anyone recognize their weapons?" "Mostly Colonial," Dani said. "I used to read a military magazine back on Cancera. But some, I've never seen them before. They're not Cylon, for sure, but sleeker and more menacing." "Rifle or pistol?" "Both, Sergeant," the boy said. Hearing that, both Adama and Byrne nodded. That confirmed Mackin's observations, and indirectly, Hunley's as well. Wagner then turned to the two older men. "Any sign of explosives? Around the Common Room, say?" Nieman replied, "None that I could see," and the others nodded. "They didn't plant anything obvious." Wagner jotted that down. "Anyone holding something like a remote detonator, or having one visible on a belt?" "Nothing like that," Niobe said. "But two were in robes and high-top boots. Maybe in there, but I don't know." "Anything in their pockets that might look like a grenade?" Both men, and Niobe, nodded. "Several had bulges in their pockets. Couldn't tell what they were." And both men agreed. "Uh, one other thing," Wagner asked. "Did they have anyone helping them? Crew or passenger, it doesn't matter." "Yes," Niobe said. "Two crewmen. I don't know their names, but they had some kind of armband. They were showing them around, pointing out people, that sort of thing." "Inside help," Wagner observed, and behind her, the others nodded. "So that's how they were able to seize the ship so quickly. Anything else?" "Yes," Niobe said. "One of the councilmen, Galerius, I think, was disappointed that the preacher guy got no results. He told us about how we'd strayed from the Faith, the 'True Path', and if we wanted any kind of redemption, we should join them. Nobody did." "Other than the two turncoats already aboard," Wagner said. "That's right," Niobe said. "And someone came in from the Bridge. I didn't hear everything, but they were transmitting messages on the emergency channel, calling on other ships to join them." "How'd they react?" Lauren asked. "Again, they were upset. One of them said that one of the responses was, 'It'll be a cold day in Hades before we follow any of your ilk,' or something like that," Niobe said. "So they're upset no one's rallying to their cause," Wagner observed. "Something like that," Nieman said. "I heard the same thing." "All right," Lauren said. "Now, Cassie's going to bring you some pads. I need a written account from each of you, of what happened. From the beginning. And please, include every detail that you can remember, no matter how minor or trivial it may be." She looked at the former hostages. "It's vital. And I promise you, as soon as possible, we'll get you back to your ship. And back to your families and friends, while the terrorists get sent to where they belong." "To Hades, one hopes," Heimer said. "I was thinking more along the lines of dumping their bodies out with the rest of the garbage, but that's one and the same," Lauren said, and they all laughed. "Please, get those finished within a centar, and we can go from there. The ex-hostages all nodded, and shook hands with Lauren. "Thank you. All of you. You've been a big help." With that, she got up and went back to the others. "Any additional questions?" "I think that covers it, Sergeant," Adama said. "The messages to the other ships were a surprise, though." "Their morale's not going to be that high," Pelias observed. "Finding out their cause is a lonely one will not help after hearing that." "The leadership, certainly, but they may not tell the rank and file," Byrne noted. "At least no one's been killed so far," Xaviar commented. "And the Lords willing, it will stay that way, until Major Croft and his team pay them a visit, that is." "I like the way you talk,Sire." Wagner said. She turned to Adama and Byrne. "Sir, as soon as I get those written accounts, and go over them, I'll need to brief Major Croft. This fills in the blanks in his plan, and once he has that, and has another practice, he'll be ready to brief you. In three centars or so, I imagine." "Then don't waste any more time talking to us than is necessary, Sergeant," Adama nodded.. "Get the Major what he needs." "Yes, Sir." The rest of the party returned to the Ward Room, discussing what had been learned. When they arrived, Hummer was waiting for them. He had the recordings from the shuttle's cameras ready. After playing it back, Mackin's account was confirmed. Though Byrne chuckled about Starbuck not being around when Mackin's, well....assets were displayed, and seeing those would no doubt have brought some silly remarks from the Lieutenant. "It also verifies one other thing," Pelias observed. "No one's going in through the Docking Bay." "Croft won't," Byrne said. "It's way too obvious. He's sneaky, and will find another way in. Now, Hummer, did you finish those sims?" "Yes, Sir! They were a challenge, but I've got them all ready for you," the tech replied. "Good man," Byrne said. "Now, Commander, Sires, Croft's going to need a diversion so that he can get his people aboard. I think I have a way to get him one. It's risky, but.....how about a runaway ship, cutting in front of the Delta?" Adama's eyes lit up. "Exactly, Captain. It forces the Bridge crew and the terrorists watching them on what is in front of them, and diverts the attention of anyone watching the sensors." "Right you are, Commander," Byrne said. "And with the Delta's scanner blind spot dead aft, it provides the opportunity to sneak up, dock, and get the team aboard before anyone knows what's happening." "An excellent idea, Captain," Xaviar noted. "Are you sure you weren't a pirate in a previous life?" "No, Sire, though I do have some pirate blood from a very long time ago," Byrne said. "Over a cold beer, when this is over, I'll tell you his story." He turned to Hummer. "Now, let's see those sims. All we need now is a ship, and this can work." Chapter 18: After going over the witness statements, and getting a text from Captain Byrne, detailing not only Mackin's account, but Hunley's as well (though he didn't identify her by name, only saying that there was a source on the Delta who had evaded capture and was sending back information.) and mentioning an idea for a diversion, Sergeant Wagner went back to the SF Area. She checked on the freed hostages, and all seemed to be doing okay. Major Croft was waiting for her when she arrived. "Sergeant, what do you have for us?" She saluted, then said, "Major, get the guys together. It'll be a lot easier this way. And Captain Byrne has an idea for a diversion. He'll go over it at the final brief." Nodding, Croft told Castor to get the Team together. When everyone arrived, Wagner called up the Delta's schematics, and got right down to business. "All right. We have a source on the Delta who's managed to avoid capture. That source has knowledge of the terrorists' numbers, disposition, routine, as well as several identities. Second, I've debriefed the five hostages they did release, and their information, along with the shuttle pilot's, fills in the gaps." Seeing that she had the troopers' undivided attention, she went on. "First, the Bridge. There's between five to seven terrorists there,watching the Bridge Crew. Not counting the two renegade councilmen, who do go back-and-forth at times. The terrorist in charge is a man named Mussert." A holo image of the man's file came up for all to see. "I've heard of this guy before, Sergeant," Castor said. "A nasty brute, who barely avoided prison, and treated his merchant crew so badly they mutinied." "That's what Captain Byrne said. He's a sadist, but he does know what he's doing on that Bridge. He'll be the one most likely to pounce on anyone getting out of line, and make them suffer." "One sick Fraker," Dorado, one of Castor's team, said. "Yeah, and a double-tap to the head will cure him of that," Wagner replied. "Next, the Common Room. Apart from those in Engineering, all of the remaining hostages are there, with between ten and fourteen terrorists watching them. No sign of explosives, though several may have grenades. Or the charges may be out of sight, and in place. Two of them may, and I emphasize may, have remote detonators. And there's two crew who are involved: they're wearing armbands. I suggest treating them as terrorists when you do hit the Common Room." "Noted, Sergeant," Croft said. "What else?" "Next: Engineering. There's five to seven there, watching the staff there. There is movement back and forth between Engineering and the Common Room; either rotation or roving patrols." Wagner reported. "So when we're moving forward to hit the Common Room, we may run into some," Castor noted. "Correct, and that's where the sound suppressors come in. A double-tap or a three-round burst to the head solves their problems for good," Wagner said, and several troopers were nodding. "Excuse me," said Dorado. "Won't security be lax in Engineering? The crew, after all, has to have some degree of freedom to move around and do their jobs and keep the ship functioning." "Good point," Wagner replied. "We'll try and get that information from our asset." A hand shot up, Kuntz's. "What about the Docking Bay?" "Saving that for last," said Wagner. "The shuttle pilot mentioned eight. They're expecting an attack from the Docking Bay. They'll be surprised-assuming any of them live to remember it, that is." And she noted several troopers suppressing their laughter. "Good work, Sergeant," Croft said. "Any other questions?" He looked around, then a trooper raised his hand. "Yes?" "The schematics, Ma'am," the trooper said. "Some of our ships have had work done in flight since we left the Colonies. What if we come up on something not on the specs?" "Deal with that if and when you come to it. I've been told that the Delta had some work done while at Brylon Station, though these specs are up to date," Wagner said. "Good point," Croft said. "Anything else, Sergeant?" "Yes, Sir," Lauren replied. "I take it you have stun grenades, or what we call flash-bangs on Earth. You know, the ones that produce a loud bang and a blinding flash that will disorient someone for 30 sec....microns?" "That we do, Sergeant," Castor replied. "We have them for anti-hijacking and anti-piracy work." He threw her one. "Haven't had to use any in a while, though." "Major, I may need some. Captain Byrne says we may have our own part to play in this, and here's how." She pointed on the display to the passage one deck below the Common Room, the one leading to the Docking Bay. "If these two renegades and a few followers decide to run, they'll use this passageway to get to the Docking Bay and grab a shuttle." "I get it."Croft said. The 'flight or fight' instinct kicks in," "Yes, Sir. And if they do run, and Captain Byrne thinks they may do just that, he may chase them down with Constellation, and we'll need those grenades for our own boarding party." "Not a problem. And why just one case? I'll have half a dozen sent to your shuttle. We'd still have more than we may ever need or use." Croft said. "Thank you, Sir." Wagner replied. She looked at the chrono. "One and a half centars to the brief, Major. May I suggest a final run-through, before the briefing?" "I like the way you talk, Sergeant," said Croft. "All right; you heard the lady. Let's have another go at this." In the Ward Room, Adama and Byrne were waiting with Sires Pelias and Xaviar, when Siress Tinia came from a nap in VIP Quarters. "Commander, my office just got a call from Heller, over on the Broadcast Ship. An IFB crew is among the hostages on the Delta, and he's raising a big fuss about this. He's demanding to know what's being done to get this resolved." Of all the....Adama thought to himself. He went to a telecom. "Bridge, Commander Adama. Get me Heller on the Broadcast Ship, please." "Yes, Commander," Omega responded. His watch was almost over, and it would be time for Mercedes to take over for him. Within a centon, Heller's image appeared on the screen. "Commander?" "Heller," Adama said. "I take it you're concerned about events on the Delta?" "Yes, Commander, I am," Heller replied. "One of my crews is on that ship, and I'd like to know what's being done about this situation to get it resolved." Heller had been Serena's boss at BNC, Adama remembered, and at times, he wished that she had stayed at her old job, because Zara and Zed were amateurs by comparison. "Heller, rest assured that we're doing everything possible to get those hostages released, and not just your crew," Adama told him. "Needless speculation and rumor-mongering will not help, especially since the terrorists are likely monitoring IFB." "Commander-" "Heller, when we have settled this, you will be informed. Until then, just sit tight with the rest of us," Adama said. "Yes, Sir," Heller replied, none too happily, and the connection was broken. Hearing that, Byrne muttered to Pelias. "Isn't there a way to maroon Zara and Zed, and find a couple of honest news anchors?" "Anchors?" Pelias asked, and Byrne explained the term. "I've wondered that often, Captain. But 'honest' news presenters? I doubt you could find anyone in IFB who could qualify." "I, too, have wondered about that myself," Adama said. He'd overheard their conversation. "Captain, do you have a ship in mind for this diversion?" "Yes, Commander, I do. Adelade. Constellation's far too obvious. I"ll need Commander Allen over here, though. Something like this needs a face-to-face, not explained over the com," said Byrne. "Understood," Adama nodded. He went contacted the Bridge. "Omega, contact the Adelade. Request Commander Allen's presence aboard the Galactica. As soon as possible." "Yes, Commander. Right away." "Captain," Xaviar asked. "Could you explain this diversion further?" "Yes, Sire," Byrne said. "If you'll follow my hands." How many times had he debriefed a training flight with hand motions before? A lot, he knew. "My left hand is the Delta. Here, above and to the right, my right hand is Adelade. Now, the Adelade will give a phony distress call, and cut down in front of the Delta, forcing her to stop." "And that kind of maneuver forces the bridge crew, and the terrorists watching them, to focus on the near-collision, instead of Croft's assault shuttle, even though it's coming in from a blind spot," Pelias finished for Byrne. "Exactly, Sire," Byrne said. "They have to focus on the near-collision, and that gives Croft time to approach, dock, and get his troopers aboard before anyone knows what's happening." "And the actual assault on the terrorists follows after that?" Tinia asked. "That's the logical progression, Siress," Byrne replied. "We'll need to hear Croft's assault plan, but yes, the takedown of the terrorists follows shortly afterwards." On the Delta, Hunley had had to move to a new hiding place. Several of the terrorists had gotten too close for comfort, and overhearing one of them, laughing, describe what he would do to any straggler he caught made the decision an easy one. When she was settled in, she took out her PDA and sent a message. Then again, she sat back to wait. Dante was in the Captain's chair on Constellation. He'd decided to stay on duty as long as he could, until he got so tired that he'd have to turn things over to Lieutenant Agron, the ship's Second Officer, or he fell out of the chair. Right now, it was even money as to which would happen first. Then, a now-familiar buzz came from his pants pocket. He took out his PDA and read the message. He then turned to Ruis, who'd now relieved Alyssia. "Ruis, contact the Galactica. Commander Adama and Captain Byrne." "Right away, Sir." "Commander," Mercedes was calling from the Bridge, having relieved Omega, and Tigh had gone to get something to eat. "The shuttle from Adelade is on final, and there's a message for you and Captain Byrne from the Constellation." "Very well," Adama said. "Have Commander Allen report to the Ward Room, and feed that message here." "Sir." Dante's face came on the monitor, and from the looks of it, he was tired and haggard. "Commander, Captain, Hunley has some more information for us." "Excellent," Adama said as Byrne called up the schematic again. "Go ahead, Dante." "Sirs, she can't send any streaming scans. She tried from an area near Engineering, and got a 'No signal' result." "She's been captured?" "No, Sir. She can't send any video signals. Besides, Sir, if they had captured her, they'd call us up and gloat about it." "That's too bad about the data, Mr. Dante," Byrne said. "What else?" "The terrorists seem to be laid back in Engineering. They don't seem to be getting too much in the way of the staff there." "They've fallen for it, Commander," Byrne said. "There's a saying on Earth: 'Fat, dumb, and happy. Just as we thought." "Indeed," Adama commented. "It appears so, at least there. Is there anything else, Dante?" "Just her location. She's close to the Number Two Ventral Airlock. It's mainly used for EVA, or to dock with another ship, Sir." Byrne nodded. "Commander, if Croft hasn't yet decided on a point of entry, I think we've found one for him." "Quite." Adama said. "Dante, we need to know the status of that airlock. Is it guarded?" "I'll let her know, Sir, and get back to you ASAP." Byrne nodded. "Mr. Dante, you need some rest. Constellation will have its own part to play in this, and I need you in top shape. Turn the watch over to Mr. Agron, and report to your rack for a couple of centars, preferably three. It'll be that long, at least, before we'll all be busy." "Yes, Sir," Dante replied. "Dante, tell her to keep it up, but again, no heroics." Adama said. "Of course, Commander." "Very well," Adama replied, and the link was broken. He turned to Byrne. "You're almost as haggard as he is, Captain. You need some rest as well." "After Croft and Sergeant Wagner give their briefing, Commander," Byrne replied. "There's a few couches here, and I'll just nap on one for a while." Then Commander Allen came in. "Reporting as ordered, Commander," Allen said, saluting. "Commander Allen," Adama said, returning the salute. "How are things on the Adelade?" "So far, nothing out of the ordinary. We beat the Century two out of six times, and most of the rest were pretty close: could've gone either way." He handed a data disc of the mock engagements to Adama. "Sir, we've been following things, though," the Aussie said. "But what's up with having me over here?" "Ced," Byrne spoke up. "We've got a role for you to play in this. Hummer!" "Yes, Captain?" The tech replied. "Call up the final sim, the one with the Adelade, And show it on the main screen; I want everyone to see this." "Yes, Sir!" The tech nodded, and soon, the sim was running on the screen. And everyone in the Ward Room was playing close attention. "Ced, we need a diversion, and this is where you come in." Byrne said. The sim matched his hand maneuvers almost perfectly. "So that's what you need," Allen observed. "It'll be close, but not too close. They'll be seeing the hull plates, but not reading the serial numbers." "That's about it," Byrne noted. "They'll be busy with the near-collision, and not with their sensors." "So Croft's team can approach and board, and they won't know it's happening until it's way too late." "You've got it, Ced," said Byrne. "Commander," Adama said. "You'll be informed as to when. The exact time is up to Major Croft." "Then I'd better stay here until he's briefed you people. Unless he's done that already," Allen decided. "Not yet, but it's almost time," Byrne noted. Aboard the Delta, the two renegade councilmen were talking in the Captain's cabin. "I don't believe this," Elegabalus heatedly said to his colleague. "No one's joining us. Either they're not responding, or when they do respond, they're vitriolic in their hatred of us." "I'm just as disappointed as you are, my friend," Galerius said. "Still, the Council will force Adama to see reason. Since they won't overthrow him, and embrace the True Path, they will simply admit defeat and let us go." "I know they will," Elegabalus replied, pouring himself a drink as he did so. He didn't sound convinced, though. His PDA buzzed, and he checked the message. "Our source on the Macheaon." "Yes?" "She's denounced us and everything we've done. Her last message was that she'd see us at the Tribunal, and she'll be on Solon's witness list." He tossed the pad to his fellow conspirator. "One more who's failed the test," Galerius said, reading the message. "I fear, when the time comes, only those who've stayed true to the faith in all of this will want to come along with us." "Their choice,and a fatal one," Elegabalus reminded his colleague. "Infidels!" In Galactica's SF Area, Major Croft and Sergeant Wagner had watched the final rehearsal, and both were pleased. And Wagner, especially, was satisfied with the level of marksmanship that the troopers had demonstrated. She turned to Croft. "I think you guys are mission-ready, Major." "I think so, Sergeant," Croft said. "We know that ship: she's a fairly common older design, and have just about everything we need. All but a point of entry." "I take it a hull breach is out?" Croft nodded. "The ship's sensors would pick it up, even if they are a bit, well, cranky, according to the ship records." "That leaves an airlock," Wagner commented. She called up the schematics again. "Hopefully, our asset on the Delta can tell us if they're guarded." And if they aren't then that's a mistake these scum won't live to regret. "Are they wired? Alarm rigged, I mean?" "Once, yeah," Dorado chimed in. "But with all the spares we've had to do without..." "Okay, we'll try to get a message to our asset: Disable the alarm on the airlock as soon as possible," Croft said. He looked at the schematic again. He pointed to an aft Ventral airlock. Number two. "That one. It's closest to Engineering, and we need to secure that as quickly as possible. Castor!" "Major?" "We're going in via the aft ventral airlock. Tell the guys that's our entry point." "You got it, Major," Castor said, and he ran off to inform the team leaders. Wagner nodded, then looked at the chrono. "Major, it's time to brief the Commander." "Right you are," Croft said. He turned to Castor, who'd just came back. "The team's yours until we get back." "Major." Croft looked at Wagner. Too bad she can't come along, because with those weapons she demonstrated, we have a much better chance of pulling this off, he thought. But she's gotten us this far, and we'll make the teacher proud. "Let's go." Chapter 19: Commander Adama and Captain Byrne were waiting in the Ward Room for Croft and Sergeant Wagner to arrive. The three Council members were still there, and Adama had summoned both Sire Solon and Siress Lydia to be there as well. Commander Allen was also there, and Colonel Tigh had arrived after he had something to eat and a short nap. While waiting for Croft, Byrne had contacted the Constellation. Sure enough, Mr. Agron was standing the Bridge Watch, for Dante had gone to get some rack time. Byrne had relayed the requests for information about the Aft Ventral Airlock, and Dante had sent the data. Now, all they could do was sit back and wait. Then Major Croft and Sergeant Wagner arrived. "Major, Sergeant," Adama said. "I take it you have an assault plan finalized?" "We do, Commander, and if everyone's ready, the two of us can brief you." Croft said, looking at Wagner, who nodded. "All right, Major," Adama nodded, and he waved for everyone to be seated. "For both of you, the floor is yours." "Thank you, Commander," Croft said. "First of all, do we have a diversion?" "We do, Major," Byrne said. "Commander Allen, there, will create one with the Adelaide, forcing the terrorists on the bridge, as well as the bridge crew, to focus on a near-collision, and not on their sensors." Croft was relieved, but didn't show it. "Then, after that, our assault shuttle comes in, via the aft blind spot." A schematic of the Delta came up, and showed that area in question. "There's a small conical area, about sixty by sixty, that is effectively blind, thanks to the Delta's scanner emplacements. Our key under the flower pot as it were. We slip in, we dock, and get the team aboard before anyone knows what's happened.." He turned to Adama, "Sir, does our asset know what we need?" "That individual has been informed, Major, and that information should be available prior to your launch." Adama said. "Thank you, Sir." Croft said. "First, we get to Engineering and secure that area. It's one place where the terrorists won't be too focused on the hostages, because the crew there needs to do their jobs." "Good, Major," Byrne said. "Our asset verifies that. They're pretty laid back in that area of the ship." Nodding, Croft went on, "Then we use the maintenance crawlspaces to get a team to the Bridge. We take the Bridge swiftly and silently, using the suppressed weapons provided by Captain Byrne, and that Sergeant Wagner has trained us on." He glanced at Wagner, who nodded thanks. "Then, the rest of the team moves into position, so that we can hit the Common Room from as many sides as possible, and do so with the finesse of a tornadic storm." "And the Docking Bay?" Xaviar asked. "Sire, we don't have enough troopers to hit all four targets simultaneously. We'll save it for last, but we can hit them from two sides, using both the main passage and the secondary one, and they'll go down like the rest of them," Croft said. "Galerius and Elegabalus," Tinia said. "What if they try and make a run for it?" "If they do try and make a run for it, not much we can do about that," Croft admitted. "That leaves it to a ship to run them down." "If they do run in our direction, Constellation will bring them in.. She has a pretty strong tow beam, thanks to her previous owner," Byrne said. "We'll bring them in-dead or alive, their choice." "And if they run in the opposite direction, Vipers from Galactica and Raiders from the Base Ship will run them down. I'll inform Baltar of what we'll need in that eventuality," Adama said. He looked at his SF leader. "When do you plan to launch?" "Sir, in just over three centars. 0430." "Very well, Major," Adama nodded. "Are there any questions?" He saw Sire Solon nodding. "Yes, Sire Solon?" "Commander," Solon acknowledged Adama with a polite nod. "Major, how do you plan on taking them alive? I would like it very much if they stood Tribunal for their crimes." Hearing that, Byrne tried to suppress a scowl. He'd gone over this before with Adama and the other Council members. And he saw that Adama and Pelias were trying to do the same. "Sire," Croft said, "I'll let Sergeant Wagner handle that. She's impressed upon my team the need for dealing with the terrorists in a decisive and final manner." He motioned to her. "Sergeant, you have the floor." "Thank you, Sir." Wagner said. She looked around, then at Sire Solon. "Sire, this came up in an earlier discussion, shortly after the terrorists made their demands. She looked around and saw those who had been there nod. "Sire, you're not dealing with ordinary criminals. Coming from a law-enforcement background on Earth, from a country that grants even the lowest of the low their day in court, I would much rather have these scum hauled into court and face judgment for their actions, but when you're dealing with terrorists, things are different. We're dealing with people who are fanatical beyond belief or reason, for whom the cause means everything-and they're totally dedicated to it. And the lives of the hostages mean nothing to them. Because to them, in their eyes, the more bodies they leave behind them, the more proof to them their cause is true." Solon nodded. "Please continue, Sergeant." "Yes, Sire. This is the most dangerous mission that any special operations force can execute. All it takes for this to turn into a bloodbath is one terrorist throwing a grenade among the hostages, taking a laser on automatic and turning it on them, even blowing an airlock in a final gesture of defiance." Wagner paused, then went on. "The only way that all of the hostages-and the rescue team-come back alive from this is to kill every last one of the terrorists. No exceptions." "Basically, Sire," Croft jumped in. "Anyone with a weapon in hand-or trying to go for one, dies. No questions asked." Adama looked at Solon. "Do you understand, Sire?" "Perfectly, Commander," Solon replied, though a bit glumly. He looked at both Croft and Wagner."My apologies if I misunderstood. And I agree: the lives of the hostages come first." And both nodded. Tigh asked, "What about any who try to run for it?" "Again, their choice," Byrne noted. "They could try and ram a pursuing ship, and if they do, that ship that's targeted-or others, may very well open fire. If these slime get blown out of the sky, no great loss if it happens." "Let's hope to God that never happens," Allen said. "If they're using hostages as human shields, some innocents could die with the slime." Heads nodded around the table. "In any event, Sire, you'll be busy in any case with the others who are connected to this," Adama pointed out. "Indeed I will, Commander," Solon replied. "Those indictments are already drawn up, and waiting to be served." "Any other comments or questions?" Adam asked. He looked around the room and saw none. But then Byrne raised his hand, "Yes, Captain?" "I'd like to point out again that our asset on the Delta has been notified of what the Major needs for that airlock. The situation being what it is, though, we may not get that information in time. But if we do, Major, you'll be the first to know." "Thank you, Sir," Croft said. He'd been wondering about that himself. "Anything else? Adama asked. There were no more questions or comments. "All right, Major, it's in your hands now. Good luck, and may the Lords be with you and your men." "Thank you, Commander." Though Croft wasn't a religious man, he did think having some divine help would be a good idea. "We may need them." Aboard the Delta, Hunley had gotten her latest text, and she knew the answer to one question right away: the airlock wasn't guarded. Obviously, the terrorists couldn't be everywhere, and had apparently decided that a roving patrol was the best way to check up on the area. She managed to slip down to the airlock-one deck down from her hiding place, and looked around. No sign of the bad guys, she saw, and managed to open the airlock and get inside. From her classes on ship's systems during her training, she knew what to look for and where. Sure enough, the inspection cover on the airlock alarm was missing, and the box itself had been stripped for parts, leaving only a pair of exposed wires. The airlock itself seemed in good condition, though. Hunley smiled, then made her way back to her hiding place. Then she sent what she hoped would be her final message, then sat down to wait for the good guys to show up. On the Constellation, Dante was asleep in his quarters. He had been dead tired, and had wanted to keep going, but Captain Byrne was right: he needed some rest. After sending the most recent message to Hunley, he'd turned in for a nap. Then his PDA rang, and rang loud (he was a notoriously heavy sleeper), and he woke up, and checked the PDA. He then got up-he'd only taken his boots off, and went to his telecom. "Bridge, this is Dante." "Ruis here, Sir." "Send this to Commander Adama and Captain Byrne on Galactica: 'Asset reports airlock unguarded. Alarm missing.' Get that off at once." "Yes, Sir!" "Very well, wake me at 0430." "Sir." In Galactica's Ward Room, Byrne had laid out on a couch, and to his surprise, Adama had done so as well-though that had been common in his early days as a Battlestar commander, it had been yahrens since he'd done it. In fact, almost everyone had found someplace to lay down or sit back in a chair and take a nap. Then a telecom close to where he'd been napping buzzed. Hummer, though, took the call, as he was the only one there still awake. "Ward Room. What? I'll tell him right away. Thank you." Hummer then went and gently woke his CO. "Commander?" Adama opened his eyes, "Wha...Lords of K...Oh, yes. Technician, what is it?" "Sir, we just got a message from the Constellation. The asset reports that the airlock is unguarded and that the alarm is missing." Hummer said. "Missing?" "That's what the message said, Sir," Hummer replied. "Thank you, Hummer." Adama said. He looked at the chrono. 0220. He knew he needed some more sleep, but had to let Croft know. He went to the telecom and called the SF Area. "Major Croft, please." "One centon, Commander," one of the troopers answered. "He's asleep at the moment." Just like I was, Adama thought. "Very well." "Commander?" Croft's voice came over the line. "We've heard from our asset. The airlock in question is unguarded. And the alarm system is missing." "Thank you sir," he said, his voice filled with relief. "We'll get aboard that ship and nobody will know-until it's too late. Sir, is there anything else?" "Not at this time, Major." Adama said. "We need some more rest, Commander. I'll let you know when we're ready to deploy." "You, me, and a lot of others, Major." Adama said, hanging up. He saw that except for Hummer, everyone else was asleep. He told Hummer to wake everyone at 0400, and then went back to sleep. In Baltar's quarters on the BaseShip, Ayesha woke up. She checked the chrono next to the bed, and saw that it was 0245, and Baltar wasn't in bed. She knew all about the situation on the Delta, and that the BaseShip was on alert in case the terrorists tried anything with the ship, or tried to escape. She put on a robe over her nightclothes, and went to the Command Center. There, she found Baltar sound asleep in the command chair, with the Centurions on duty, going about their duties with their usual efficiency, apparently oblivious to his current state. Ayesha walked up to Baltar and he suddenly awoke. "Ayesha?" She frowned at him and shook her head. "Baltar. I know you need some rest. But not here. Come to bed and get some sleep. When do they need you again?" Baltar had been kept up to date by Adama of all developments, and the assault scheduled to begin at 0445. "By 0430, My dear." Moray came into the Command Center. "By your command, Lady Ayesha." "Moray," Ayesha said. "Please wake Commander Baltar at 0415. Until then, we're going to bed, and are not to be disturbed." "By your command, My Lady." It was 0330 when Croft woke. This time, he knew, he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. When this is done, he decided, he'd take a duty day off, and just plain sleep. And he knew that his troopers would probably do the same. He got up, and saw Wagner asleep on his office couch. He'd been napping in his office chair, and had offered the couch to her. She had accepted, and hadn't even taken her combat boots off. And she was sound asleep. He was careful not to wake her, and slipped out of the office to check on his men. They were all fast asleep. No pre-mission jitters or anything like that. They'd been up late, and all had found their racks. Soon, it'd be 0400 and time to get prepped, but he knew from past experience that rest time was what his guys needed. And for sure, he vowed, those terrorists would have the surprise of a lifetime-assuming any of them lived to remember it. "Commander," the voice quietly said. "Lords..what...Oh, it's you, Tigh," Adama said. "What is it?" "It's 0400, Commander. Technician Hummer left a wake-up call for you, I believe." Nodding, Adama got up. He hit the head, then decided to head to his quarters for a quick shave before coming back, and he saw some hands from messing bringing breakfast into the Ward Room: pastries, juice, java, and some fruit. "I take it this was your doing, Colonel?" "None of us will have time for a proper meal, so I took the liberty," Tigh said. "Thank you, Colonel," Adama nodded as he gently woke up Sire Pelias, who came with a start, and very shortly, everyone was awake. Byrne decided to go to a nearby VIP cabin to change into a clean uniform and shave, while the council members went to VIP quarters to freshen up. By 0415, everyone was back in the Ward Room, partaking of breakfast, and waiting to hear from Croft. The communicator chimed, then Moray's voice came over it. "My Lady, it is 0415." "Thank you, Moray," Ayesha said. She nudged her husband. "Baltar, it's time." Like those in Galactica's Ward Room, Baltar had gone to sleep fully dressed. "Uh, ah, yes. It's almost time for the commando strike, " the traitor said as he got up. He, too, had a quick shave and breakfast, before heading into the Command Center. "Ship's status, Moray?" "By your command. The ship remains at full alert. No unusual activity detected from the Delta, either unusual transmissions, nor any sign of an escape shuttle." "Very well, Moray. Have a Raider flight on standby, just in case there is an escape shuttle." Baltar ordered. "By your command." In the SF Area on Galactica, Croft had woken up Sergeant Wagner, and both had strode into the trooper bay, and shouted his men awake. They all woke with a start, and after shaking out the sleep from their eyes, they hit the head, ate quickly, then got their gear together. Croft went back and forth, checking each trooper, and giving a few words of encouragement. Then Wagner did so, and she saw that most of the team had either an MP-5 or an HK-416; only those few who hadn't yet qualified had laser rifles, while everyone had either the SiG-Sauer 226 or the Mark-23. And all had sound suppressors at the ready for those, as did those with the MP-5s. Though Croft wasn't the type to give a pep talk, she asked him if she could say a few words, and he agreed. "All right: I've taken you guys as far as I can go, and it's all up to you. There's a hundred-plus innocent lives depending on each and every one of you. Women, children, babies, the old, and we all know the price of failure. Don't even think about that: just think about doing what needs to be done. Keep in mind that this is NOT a fair fight. 'Fair' in this case means you bring all of your people back, and the hostages are safe. Frak the others." A couple of troopers laughed at that, and others smiled. Too bad she can't come along, Croft said to himself, because she's got the attitude. Then she went on. "Remember, the lives of the hostages come first. Don't give a terrorist a chance on going for a detonator or a weapon, even if he's wounded. Make sure the dead ones are dead, and if a wounded terrorist goes for a weapon? Finish him off." She looked at the Chrono: 0420. "All right, it's time to kick some and take some. It's up to you guys now." "That it is, Sergeant," Croft said. "Let's go, people! We've got a shuttle to catch." Before he left, Croft went to a telecom and called the Ward Room, telling them his team was now headed to Alpha Bay. He threw up a silent prayer as he went to join them. After taking Croft's call, Adama, Byrne, and the others decided to see his team off. Before doing so, Byrne wanted to contact Mr. Dante,and Adama informed the Bridge. Within moments, Dante's face appeared on the monitor. "Sirs?" Byrne looked at Adama. "Anything more from Hunley?" "No, Sir. I imagine she's holed up somewhere, waiting for it to be over." "Send her one final message: it's a password to ID herself to Croft's troopers. "She says, 'Flash', they respond with 'Thunder.'" "Flash and Thunder. Consider it done, Sirs." Dante replied. "And Dante?" Adama asked. "Yes, Commander?" "Tell her, 'Well Done.' I'll want to speak with her when this is over." "Yes, Sir!" Dante replied, with a hint of a smile. Byrne looked at Adama, who nodded. "Dante, have Wagner's boys up and ready. And Mr. Malik as well. We've got to get ready for our own part in this." "Right away, Sir." "Okay, Mr. Dante. We'll be there shortly." "Sir." Adama nodded approval, then said, "I think we should all be in Alpha Bay right now, don't you think?" Alpha Landing Bay was unusually active for the night shift. The deck hands noticed that Byrne's shuttle was still there, and his pilot had suddenly arrived to do her preflight. Then the SF Team's Mark X Combat Shuttle was being made flight-ready, and was towed into position in the Bay. Finally, they watched as Commander Adama, Captain Byrne, and four members of the Council arrived just before the SF Team-all of whom looked very menacing, and were all heavily armed. Croft led his men into the Bay, and as they approached their shuttle, he saw that the Commander and those in the Ward Room had come to see them off. "Commander?" "I thought it might be a good idea to see you off, Major." Adama said, putting out his hand.. "An old tradition, when I was young. Good Luck, and again, may the Lords be with you and your men." "Thank you, Commander," Croft said, shaking Adama's hand. "We may need them." "Major," Byrne said. "Here's how to ID our asset. That person will say 'Flash.' You respond with 'Thunder.'" "Got it, Captain," Croft said. "And you should've heard the Sergeant's pep talk. Too bad she can't come along for the ride." "I know, Major," Wagner responded. " But I've taken you guys this far. You can reach the finish line on your own." "Doesn't change the way I feel-and a lot of troopers feel the same, Sergeant. Thanks again, and see you when it's over." Croft said as he put out his hand, and she shook it, mimicking the odd Colonial handshake. "Good luck, Major," Xaviar said, and the others nodded. "Thank you," Croft replied, following his men into the shuttle. "Time for us to go, Sergeant," Byrne said. He turned to Adama. "All you people can do now is wait, Commander. We've got our own part to play in this." "Indeed, Captain," Adama said. "Thank you, for your advice, and all of your assistance." "Just doing our jobs, Commander," Wagner said. "Still, thanks again," Adama said as he shook their hands, then both headed for the Armstrong. When they got aboard, they found the stun grenades Croft had left for Wagner, and Ensign Adele already getting the engines fired up. "Get strapped in, Sir, Sergeant. Pre-flight at one-hundred, sir. This express leaves in one centon." First the Mark X, then the Armstrong, flew out of the Bay and on their separate courses. "Commander," Pelias said. "Now comes the hard part." "Yes, Sire," Adama said as he turned to return to the Ward Room. "The waiting. No matter what or where, it's the hardest part." Aboard the Delta, Hunley felt her PDA vibrate. One final message. She read it, smiling, and knew that it wouldn't be much longer. And then those terrorists get the surprise of their lives. She checked her sidearm one last time, and smiled again. Chapter 20: Aboard Constellation, Captain Byrne was holding a meeting in his cabin. Dante, Sergeant Wagner, her Security men, and Mr. Malik were all there. After he'd checked on Jena, and found her sound asleep in her cabin, he got down to business. "All right: we'll be involved if these scum try to run. If they come our way, we'll run them down and bring them in. Given the late Krylon's chosen trade, this ship has a powerful tow beam, and can reel that shuttle in." "Indeed," Malik said. "And if these, these scum do show their true cowardly selves by running, they will be sadly mistaken in thinking they could run." "True," Byrne said. "Now, if we do bring them in, we'll need a boarding party. Sergeant, you and your people will lead it. I'll talk with Katana Squadron's CO and get several of his people to back you up." "We'll be ready, Captain," Wagner said. "Same rule as Croft's men: anyone with weapon in hand, or trying to go for one, dies. Councilmen or not." "No problems with that, Sergeant," Byrne said. "Don't take any chances." "Captain, if I may?" Malik asked. "Yes, Mr. Malik?" "I wish to volunteer for the boarding party. Given what these two have done-and ordered done, I would like to help give them the fate they richly deserve." Byrne looked at Wagner, who nodded, recalling Zohrloch sensibilities."Remember, though, just like with Laban, she's in command." Malik nodded. "All right: if we do run these guys down, we'll fire warning shots, and those will be from a turret. Sergeant, since your GQ station is a gun, you'll have the opportunity." "My pleasure, Sir," Wagner said with an evil-looking grin. "Fire to disable, if they ignore the warning shot, then we'll bring them in," Byrne said, and she nodded. "Any other questions?" He looked around and saw none. "All right, assume your stations." Commander Allen paced the bridge of the Adelade. The night bridge crew noticed their Captain was checking the chrono every centon, so it appeared, and he was obviously edgy. Not to mention that the usual helmsman had been temporarily relieved, and the day-watch man took his place, and he was the best helmsman aboard ship. Something was up, and only the Captain, the Exec,and almost certainly the helmsman knew Then the helmsman noticed a blinking light on his control panel. "Captain, it's time." Allen looked at the chrono. It read 0445. "Right, Mate." He looked around the bridge. "Croft's people are about to dock with the Delta and take down the terrorists. It's our job to give them that chance." Allen paused, and saw his bridge crew finally understanding what was up. And they were grinning or smiling. "Right, Helm. Take us in." On the Delta, Mussert was trying to stay awake, dozing as he listened, again and again, to one of his "prophet" Sherk's sermons (or tirades.) His men had been watching the Bridge Crew ever since the ship had been seized, and though several of the crew had black eyes or bruises on various parts of their bodies, he knew enough not to go any further. He'd given them a taste of what his old merchant crew had experienced, and that was enough to secure cooperation, though his men were watching the crew nervously. And on his advice, the two Councilmen had allowed the stewards to bring java and food to the Bridge, and he needed the java to stay awake. He had finished a cup less than half a centar ago, when the terrorist watching the sensor operator slapped him on the arm. "...never...Uhhh...what? What is it?" "Sir, what's this?" Mussert went over and saw it. A ship, which one he didn't know due to the wretchedly outdated scanners, was coming out of Fleet Formation, and headed their way. If the Delta kept on course, there would be a collision. "Holy frack!!! ALL STOP!" he shouted. "What's going on, Mussert?" Galerius asked. He'd heard the shouting from the Captain's Cabin, and had raced to the Bridge. "There's a ship on a potential collision course with us. Nothing yet on the emergency channel. If we keep going, we'll be in the middle of a fireball." Mussert replied. "They're slowing, Sir!" Allen's scanner officer reported. "Very well. Steady as she goes, Helm," Allen ordered. "Steady as she goes, Aye," the helmsman replied. Allen nodded, then turned to the navigator. "Point of closest approach?" "CA in one centon, Captain," the duty navigator replied. She went on. "We'll be one ship length away from her at that point." "Just hope they stop in time," the gunnery officer snapped. "Delta is nearly stopped," reported the scanner officer. "Very well," Allen said. "Start venting some plasma, and send our 'distress call.'" On the Delta's bridge, Elagabalus had just arrived. And he got there just in time for everyone there to see a ship-which one they couldn't tell, cut very close to their bow, venting some drive plasma from the engines. Then it dove out of sight. "Whatever ship that was, they've got some problems," Mussert observed. "An electrical fire could easily cause loss of helm, and affect the engine controls. Overpressurization in the plasma conduits would be my bet, from that,' he gestured towards the screen. "Could it be that?" Galerius asked. "It could be anything," Mussert snapped, irritated that this upper-class.....snob was questioning his abilities as a ship handler. "Make that for sure. He's sending a distress call to the Galactica. They've blown a plasma conduit in one of the drive tubes." He shook his head. "Resume Fleet speed." Castor was at the controls of the assault shuttle. "They've stopped, Major!" "Let's go in," Croft replied. "Team One, you're up first!" The shuttle slipped in, staying in the scanner blind spot aft as long as possible, before slipping beneath the Delta, and extending its boarding tube. Within a centon, the shuttle had soft docked, and the tube had a hard seal. "Hard seal, Major," Tellus reported from the tube. "Team One, let's go!" Croft said, unslinging his silenced MP-5 and heading into the tube. One of the troopers, cross-trained as an electronics tech, swiftly bypassed the external lock, and the airlock hatch opened. Croft and two troopers covered the tech as he opened the inner hatch, and they climbed out of the airlock, and covered the approach. "Clear." The rest of the team quickly boarded the ship, and Croft gave them their target assignments. "Team One: with me. Team Two, crawlspaces to get into position to the Common Room on the Port side. Team Three, minus Castor's special unit, same thing to Starboard. Four, Engineering. Get there now. Once Engineering's secured, we'll move out. Questions?" There were none. Croft nodded to Four's leader. "Move." From her hiding place, Hunley heard Croft giving his orders. She carefully opened the entrance to the crawlspace, and one of the troopers noticed the hatch opening. He raised his weapon, while calmly calling, "Major." Hunley dropped out of the hatch, seeing the troopers, and careful to keep her hands visible, gave the code. "Flash." "Thunder," Croft replied, lowering his weapon. "You must be our asset." "Ensign Hunley, Major," she replied, saluting crisply. "That Hunley?" Croft asked, and he saw her nod. "Whatever it was you did, I'd say you more than made up for it." Just as I did on Arcta, he thought. "I hope so, sir," she replied. She noticed his men with non-standard weapons, and asked, "Where'd you get those? They look like something out of a history book." "The Earth woman," Croft smiled. "These are sound-suppressed slugthrowers, and they'll kill you just as easily as a laser." He looked at her. "Stay with me,and don't pull your sidearm until I tell you." In Engineering, Hahn and his men had let the engineering staff do their jobs without any fuss. All they did was make sure no one tried to sabotage the controls or the systems themselves, but by and large, they left the staff alone. At this centar, three of his own men were asleep, and he and three others were watching the crew, and not paying attention to the approach to the engineering spaces. Even the excitement of a few centons earlier had worn off, and those who had been asleep were had gone back to sleep. That would prove a fatal mistake. Team Four's leader was able to see what was going on as his men approached the engineering control room and the adjacent open area. He had chosen to have an MP-5, as did his immediate element, though everyone had the SiG-Sauer pistols. Three of the terrorists were asleep, it seemed, and four others were casually overseeing the crew. He motioned to his men with hand signals, and they slipped into the open area. The three who were sleeping never had a chance: all three were shot twice in the head before they had a chance to wake up. The team leader looked up, and saw that no one had noticed. Then he and three troopers slipped into the engine control room. Hahn looked over a status board, then turned to the exit. He then saw something he had fully expected to see: one of Croft's troopers, pointing a weapon at him, though he couldn't recognize what kind. His last thought was, I knew this was a bad idea, and I'll hunt Galerius through eternity- The team leader tapped Hahn twice in the head, and the three troopers rushed into the control room, killing the remaining three terrorists before they had a chance to either raise their own weapons, or sound the alarm. After checking the bodies to make sure they were indeed dead, the team leader called Croft. "Engineering secure." His men reassured the hostages, and checked them over for injuries. All were okay. Minor injuries only. Then he thought for the first time, as the bodies of the dead terrorists were drug into a storage locker for the moment: Those suppressors really do work. That beer Wagner likes? I'm buying her all she can drink. Croft heard it over his communicator. "Acknowledged, Four. Stand by." He nodded to the others, and the teams began making their way to their targets. Only then did he make a transmission. "Croft to Galactica." "Galactica here. Go ahead, Major." It was Mercedes from the Bridge. "Engineering secure. Continuing mission. When you hear from us next, the ship should be secured. Croft out." He nodded to his own Team One. "Let's go. Ensign, stay close to me. Four, leave four troopers in Engineering, and move forward as briefed.." In Galactica's Ward Room, Adama and the Council members were finishing off the food, or trying to. Everyone was nervous,barely picking at their food, though plenty of java and juice had been drunk. Then the call came. "Bridge to Commander Adama." Adama went to the telecom. "Adama here. Go ahead., Mercedes." "Sir, message from Major Croft. "Engineering secure. Continuing mission." Behind him, Adama could hear audible sighs of relief. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Pass that to Captain Byrne on the Constellation." "Right away, Sir." "Captain Byrne? Sir, message from the Galactica," Ruis said. "Feeding it to your station." Byrne checked one of his screens. And a grim smile came over him. He turned to Dante. "It's started." Castor and several of his men had gone ahead, and were using the crawlspaces to get to the Bridge. Both he and Croft knew that it wouldn't be as fast, but they would get there. It took twenty centons to reach the Bridge area, and he noticed that he had exactly the same number of men as there were terrorists on the bridge: six. For this part of the mission, they were all using the Mark-23 copies with suppressors, and Castor knew full well what the weapon could do, for he'd seen Lauren shoot a suspect with hers, and the man had been easily dropped. Using hand signals, he directed his men to get into position, and since they had to take the Bridge silently, they wouldn't be using the stun grenades. It took another fifteen centons to get everyone in position and ready, but it was soon time. His own access to the Bridge came via, of all places, a hatchway from an access junction full of pipes from a head that was for the Bridge Crew's use. No one would think of coming out of that to attack the bridge, he knew, and both he and Tellus were waiting to slip in when a terrorist came off the Bridge and into the head. While it may have been a shame to kill a man there, at least Castor waited until the man finished his business before double-tapping him in the head. Then he and Tellus slipped in. "One centon.," Castor gestured with a finger. "Got it." The chrono counted down. "Five, four, three," as Castor brought up his Mark-23. "Now." The door to the head opened, and several maintenance hatches opened as Castor and his men rushed into the Bridge. Mussert had been keeping an eye on the Captain's console when the door opened. Scanners clear now. Ship back on course. No damage from their near-miss with the Adelaide. There was a noise, and he turned to see what was happening. "What the frak....?" His last sight was Castor pointing a strange weapon at him, a flash of light, then everything went black. Before things turned red..... All five remaining terrorists were shot down before any of them had a chance to do anything. All had been shot twice in the head. Moving quickly, Castor and his men told the hostages to keep quiet, and checked them for any serious injuries. Finding none, they took out the half-empty magazines and reloaded fresh ones, just as Wagner had taught them to do. Only when that was finished did he call Croft, and sent a single message. "Bridge Secured." "Got it," Croft said into his headset-he'd plugged in a tactical headset into his communicator. "Get ready for the next phase." "Copy." Croft's Team One was now moving into position to storm the Common Room from the port corridor. So far, so good. No roving patrols encountered. The men from Team Four, moving forward in the starboard corridor, hadn't encountered anyone either. "So far, so good, Major," Hunley whispered. "So far," he agreed. "Oh, frak!" Croft brought up his weapon as a terrorist came out of a compartment, turning to face them, and Croft and two troopers each shot the man down. The terrorist went down without a sound, and Team One cautiously went forward. Hunley looked into the compartment, which turned out to be an improvised galley. The man had just wanted something to drink, it seemed, from the spilled java cup next to him. Oh, well... Then the calls came over the communicator. "Two in position." "Three ready." "Four, in position." "Castor, ready." Then Croft: "One ready, stand by." In the Common Room, Galerius and Elagabalus looked around. The hostages were asleep for the most part, along with most of the faithful who were guarding them. They had made the rounds, but their aides, along with several others, were down in the Docking Bay. "Let's go and speak with the others, Elagabalus," Galerius said. "They've been patient, and may have thought we've forgotten them." "Of course. And our aides may have something new for us. For their access to the database hasn't been cut off yet." Elagabalus remarked. "A sign that that weakling Adama will be letting us go." "A hopeful one," Galerius agreed. "Arminus, watch things here until we return." "Yes, Sire." From the corridor, Croft watched the two Councilmen use the deck hatch to get down to the passage that led to the Docking Bay. "Frak! The Councilmen have flown." "Major?" Hunley whispered. "That hatch leads to a corridor that goes to the Docking Bay. They'll get to their shuttle once they hear the flash-bangs go off." "Didn't know about that," Hunley admitted. "Not blaming you, Ensign. That can't be helped,." Croft said. "Draw your weapon." He then motioned to his team, then said into his headset. "One centon to go." "Two copies." "Three, ready." "Four copies." "Castor, ready." He handed a flash-bang to Hunley. "You get the honors." She nodded, and activated the grenade. "Ready." "Now," he said into his headset, bringing his MP-5 up. Arminius was walking around the Common Room, checking the guards who were awake, and so far, nothing was amiss. Given his own military background, that made him suspicious, and he headed towards the port corridor. Maybe I should wake a couple of the men up, and have them rove around, he thought. Then he noticed someone, who he wasn't sure, then a small round object rolled towards him. He knew right away what it was, and wondered aloud,"How?" Then the world exploded in a flash and a loud bang. "GO!" Croft yelled into the headset, and charged forward. As he did so, he saw his men coming out of the hatches, throwing the stun grenades, and bringing their weapons to bear. He saw a man who had been approaching him stagger as Hunley's grenade exploded, and he put a pair of bursts into his chest and head. "STAY DOWN! STAY DOWN!" His troopers were shouting as they blew into the Common Room. Several of the terrorists who'd been asleep tried to get up, only to be cut down as they reached for their weapons, while those who'd been on guard were just as surprised to see the grenades appear out of nowhere, and they were just as quickly eliminated. Two of Team Two's troopers riddled one terrorist who was trying to get to the hatch, and both turncoat crewmen also tried to get to the hatch, but neither one made it, for Castor shot one, and Dorado killed the other. The room was quickly filled with the troopers, and screaming hostages. "COLONIAL SPECIAL FORCES!" Croft's men yelled. "STAY DOWN!" One trooper saw a wounded terrorist try and reach for something, and put a three-round burst into his head. Sure enough, the dead man had been trying to reach for a detonator, and the trooper went over and safed it. Kunis was checking another body when a grenade rolled out. "GET BACK!" he yelled, and jumped onto the grenade, smothering it with his body. It went off, and though his body armor absorbed most of the blast, it wasn't enough. He stopped moving, and made no sound. Two of Team Three's troopers were wounded, and another went over to the terrorist body, and kicked it to get a reaction. He got one, and riddled the man's chest. "ARE WE CLEAR?" Croft yelled. "Two, clear." "Three's clear. "Four, clear." "Castor, clear." "Right. Common Room secured." Croft said. "One, you're with me, forward end of the Docking Bay. Four, aft end. Three, see to the hostages, and check them over. Two, sweep the rest of the ship. Kill any stragglers." In the Docking Bay, the two councilmen and the terrorists there had heard everything. "How did they get aboard?" Galerius asked. "That's not important! We have to get out of here!"Elagabalus was yelling. Sixtus, Galerius' aide, said calmly. "Sire, he's right. Croft's killers will be here any centon," while Craiks nodded agreement. "Let's go, then." Galerius said. "My shuttle, now!" And the two councilmen, their aides, both pilots,and the terrorists who'd been in the bay, all scrambled into his shuttle. "Where to, Sire?" his pilot asked. "There should be a system within one-way range of a shuttle," Galerius said. "Get clear of the Fleet, then find us one." He turned to those who'd followed him into the shuttle. "Anyone disagree?" No one did. "Get us out of here." On the BaseShip, the duty Centurion watching the scanners saw it. "One shuttle launching from the Delta." Baltar stood up and got out of the Command Chair. "Course?" "Unknown at present." He turned to Moray. "Alert pilots to their ships." "By your command." "Shuttle is moving away from us," the Centurion reported. "Hold that, Moray. They're moving in the opposite direction." "Captain," Constellation's scanner officer said. "One Shuttle from the Delta. Headed our way." "So they're running," Byrne observed. "Just like the cowards they are." He nodded to Malik. "Release Wagner's turret to local control." "Yes, Captain." "Helm, pursuit course. Let's bring them in." On the Delta, Croft was waiting. Team One and Team Four had hit the Docking Bay, only to find no one there, and one of the shuttles launching into space. Then he got the report from Team Two. Ship clear, no stragglers. "Croft to Galactica for Commander Adama." "Commander," Mercedes said over the com. "Message from Major Croft for you, Sir." "Feed it to the Ward Room," Adama ordered. "Go ahead, Major." "Sir, the Delta is secured. One shuttle did escape." Croft reported. "Casualties?" "One trooper killed, at least one other wounded, and we're checking the hostages. We need some extra medical personnel over here ASAP, and an EOD team, just to be safe. I don't have the equipment to sweep the ship for any explosives." Croft said. "On the way, Major," Adama said. "I'm sorry for the lost trooper. Who was it?" "Kunis, sir. He took a grenade, for the hostages, and for us. Believe me, it could've been worse, Commander. I'm still busy here." "Understood, Major. You can report later. Galactica out." Behind Adama, there were smiles all around. And the Council members were coming to shake Adama's hand. "Well done, Commander." Xaviar said, beaming. "Indeed, but the credit goes not just to Croft and his men, but to Captain Byrne and Sergeant Wagner. Without their advice and assistance, the Lords know where this might have led." Siress Tinia nodded. "Quite so, Commander. They should be recognized in some way." "We can discuss that later, Siress," Adama said. "It's not over yet. One shuttle did escape." Chapter 21: "There's a system within range, Sire," Galerius' pilot said, taking the shuttle away from the Fleet.. "Once we're completely clear of the Fleet, we can head that way." "Very well," Galerius said. "Just get us clear of the Fleet." "Just hope it's one of those Adama sent a patrol to," Elegabalus grumbled. "We may not get there," the pilot said calmly. "What are you babbling about?" Galerius asked angrily. "There's a ship following us, Sire. I think it's the Constellation." "Approaching firing range, Captain," Malik reported. "Very well, Gunnery," Byrne said. "Ruis, ship-to-ship." He plugged in a headset. Ruis nodded, worked her controls, then said, "You're on, Captain." Byrne spoke into the headset. "Attention shuttle. This is the Constellation. Power down, heave to, and prepare to be boarded. Or I will open fire. Repeat: Heave to, or I will fire." On the shuttle, Byrne's voice came over the speaker. "Byrne...." Galerius said, and Elagabalus uttered some choice invective. "Trust Adama to send the Earth defiler after...Get us out of here!" Galerius wailed at the pilot, who firewalled the engines.. "They're still running, Captain," Malik said, with a half-smile. "Target in range." "Their choice," Byrne noted. "We did warn them. As the Sergeant likes to say, 'they never listen.' Alright, Sergeant, stand by." "Ready," Wagner replied from her turret. "Solution light is on." The shuttle kept going, and the big ship was still closing. "Shuttle, heave to or I will fire," Byrne's voice said over the shuttle speakers. "This is your final warning." "No response, Sir," Ruis reported. "Like I said, their choice." Byrne said. "Sergeant: Bracket them. Two shots: one ahead, the other behind. Fire when ready." "Roger," Wagner said. "On target.....and firing!" Twin bolts flashed ahead of the shuttle, and again flashed astern. The shuttle rocked. "They've got us," Elegabalus' pilot, who was in the copilot's seat, said. "We're bracketed." "Shoot back!" Galerius wailed. "With what, Sire? These shuttles are unarmed," his own pilot replied. "Closing to tow range, Captain," Dante reported. "I see it," Byrne observed. "Sergeant, fire a disabling shot on my mark." "Standing by." "They're on us!" Galerius' pilot yelled. "And we can't outrun them." "Evasive, try and get away!" Galerius wailed. "Evas...we're like a garbage scow against a warship," his pilot replied. "You were told...." Elegabalus said, reaching towards the pilot. "To Hades with told! I'm not dying for you, Sire," the pilot said, turning on them with a snarl. "You can take your chances with them. "He turned to Elagabalus' pilot, who nodded agreement.. "Shut down the engines." A moment later, the vessel shook, as the beam took hold. "They have us." "They're shutting down their engines," the sensor officer reported. "Now, Mr. Dante. Hit them with the tow beam, and bring them in," Byrne ordered. "Sergeant, assemble your boarding party. You too, Mr. Malik." The Zohrloch warrior let out one of his evil-looking grins, then headed for the landing bay, while inside her turret, Wagner tore off her headset, and raced for the Security Office. Her people were there, and Metxan had her trusty HK-416 waiting. He tossed it to her, and she led her people to the Docking Bay. "Stunners?" she asked. "Right here, Ma'am," Paulson said. "How many do you want?" Wagner thought for a moment. "There's probably a dozen in that shuttle. One for each. And a couple extra, just in case." Nodding, Paulson tore open the case. "Ready, Ma'am." Katana Squadron's CO came into the bay, with a half-dozen of his Warriors, and said, "Sergeant, Captain Byrne said for us to back you up. He told me you're in charge, so how do you want this to go down?" "Follow us in," Wagner said. "And anyone with weapon in hand or going for one dies. No questions asked." Malik arrived, with his laser, but Wagner had a surprise for him. She turned to Metxan. "Got that special weapon I taught him to use?" Her deputy grinned. "Yes, Ma'am," and he took the SCAR-17 that she had taught Malik to shoot. He tossed it to Malik, who took it and shouldered his laser. Just as he did so, the shuttle came in via the tow beam, and settled onto the deck. Lauren went over to the LSO's booth, and he nodded to her. "Sergeant, how do you want to do this?" "Do you have a spare headset?" He tossed her one, and after she put it on and plugged it in, she said, "Put me on." He nodded, flipped a switch, and said, "You're on, Sergeant." "Shuttle, this is Constellation Master-at-Arms. Open your hatches, and come out with your hands up. Step away from the shuttle, then kneel down on the deck and lie prone. Do as you're told, and nobody else gets hurt today." She paused. "I can tell you that all of your followers on the Delta are more than likely dead. If you're smart, do what you're told, and you won't join them. You have one centon to surrender." "Are we giving up? Sixtus asked. "Not to that infidel.... whore," Galerius growled. "No defiler of the Path can talk like that with impunity!" Elegabalus nodded. "They have to come get us first." The LSO watched the chrono. "They're not very smart, Sergeant." "They never listen," Wagner said. "Their choice. Thanks anyway." She left the booth and went over to her team, and the attached Warriors. "All right: Blow the hatch, then toss in the stunners. Then we go in. Like I said, anyone with a weapon in hand or going for one...take 'em out.. I don't care it's one of the Councilmen, or rank and file. Understood?" Heads nodded. "Okay: Mr. Malik, behind me. Mextan, you and the boys follow, then the guys from Katana. Set a breaching charge on that hatch, and let's go." Flight Sergeant Enyo, one of the Katana men, and if they were on Earth, she'd think he had some Japanese or Korean blood in him, stepped forward. "I'll set it, Ma'am." "Good man," Wagner nodded. "Do it." Enyo went to the hatch and set the charge for thirty microns, then he scooted out of range. Thirty microns later, the charge blew a nice hole in the hatch, and the team rushed to the hatch. "Stunners," Wagner ordered. Both Mextans and Gallonis began throwing in the stun grenades, and they heard them going off. Just after the last grenade went off, Lauren yelled. "NOW!" The team rushed into the shuttle, with Lauren and Malik up front, and the regular Security men behind. She saw that most everyone was holding their hands over their eyes, still recovering from the grenades, but she saw one man-who she didn't know, reach for a laser. But she didn't give him the chance, for she walked two three-round bursts into his abdomen and up into his chest. The shots stitched a path of red across the form, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. To her left, Malik saw the same thing, and another man, who was just now shaking off the effects of the grenades, reach for his holster. Malik didn't hesitate, and shot the man twice in the chest with the Mark-17, killing him almost instantly. Mextan and the rest of the men had their laser rifles, and they found everyone they encountered still stunned by the grenades. None tried to go for a weapon, and when they saw Mextan and the others pointing their lasers at them, they meekly raised their hands. The Warriors from Katana followed right behind, and none of those they encountered were willing or able to put up a fight, for they, too, were still incapacitated by the grenades' flash-bang effects. By the time those three recovered, each had a Warrior standing over him, with a laser in his or her face. And they, too, gave up. Wagner and Malik went to the shuttle cockpit area, and found those there just now recovering from the grenades' effect. She recognized the councilmen, as did Malik, and both raised their weapons. Galerius' mind and senses were spinning, and he was wondering what had happened, for his eyes still had a lot of spots, and there was still a ringing in his ears. He managed at last to focus his eyes ahead, and saw two of those he hated the most: the Earth whore, and one of the Zohrloch sub-Humans. And both were pointing weapons in his direction. Elagabalus, too, was just recovering from the grenades, and he, too, saw two of those he despised the most. Of all the.... Just at that moment, his aide, Craiks, tried going for a laser on the deck plate in front of him. Wagner didn't hesitate, and she put a three-round burst into his head, which exploded like a melon. Then she turned back and covered both councilmen with the 416, and yelled, "Anyone else want to be a martyr?" The two councilmen, the pilots, and Sixtus all put up their hands. But that didn't end their defiance. "You whore!" Galerius shouted. "Everything we've done to save the Human Race is lost because of you! "Yeah, and you missed out on Thanksgiving leftovers, too. Like I care." She surveyed the living and the dead. "I imagine every terrorist leader on Earth-or in the Colonies, for that matter, said something similar when they met their maker," Wagner said dryly. "I can kill all of you, right now, say you were going for weapons, and everyone on my Team would back me up. Isn't that right, Mr. Malik?" "Indeed it is, Sergeant. It was a near thing, with all these desperate gunmen." Someone chuckled. "It would save Sire Solon a great deal of work, would it not?" "Mextan?" "Well, Ma'am, I was busy with the other prisoners, and didn't have a clear view. Sorry. So if you say it happened...." Metxan said, covering the Councilmen with his own weapon, and shrugging. "To avoid dying, I suggest, strongly, that all of you do what I said over the com. Now, Sire......," she hissed, letting the title fade away. Both councilmen admitted defeat, in the midst of their burning rage, and led their followers out of the shuttle, with Lauren, Malik, Mextan and his men, and Katana's Warriors covering them. She was the last to leave the shuttle, giving a thumbs-up to the LSO, who contacted the Bridge. But as a last act of defiance, Galerius stared in Wagner's direction, snarling. "You fracking wh...". He never saw Malik's fist coming, before crumpling to the deck. "One thing to keep in mind, Sire." Lauren said, grinning, as Galerius looked up at her. "Never make a Zhorloch mad." "Sir, the LSO reports the shuttle is secured." Ruis said to Byrne. "Very well," Byrne replied. "Notify the Galactica, and request a shuttle with Security to transfer these....people to Galactica's Brig. I just had the ship fumigated, and we don't need any more vermin aboard." "With pleasure, sir," Ruis replied. Byrne nodded, then turned to his Exec. "Mr. Dante, you have the deck. I'll be in the Landing Bay." "Sir." In Galactica's Ward Room, Adama and the Council members were still waiting on news of the shuttle. They had discussed what might happen next, with what Pelias called "The Tribunal of the Centuron" likely to follow. Then the Telecom buzzed. "Bridge to Commander Adama." It was Tigh's voice. "Go ahead, Tigh," Adama replied. "Commander, message from the Constellation: "Shuttle secured. Both councilmen in custody with several other terrorists. Request a shuttle to transfer prisoners to Galactica Brig." Again, there were sighs of relief. "Very well, Colonel. See to it immediately," Adama replied. "And that ends that," Siress Tinia said. "That incident is closed," Adama remarked. "At least the military part. Now it's up to Sire Solon." Chapter 22: Captain Byrne headed to the Landing Bay on Constellation. Before doing so, he checked on Jena, who had slept through the whole thing, and was just now getting up. He filled her in on what had happened, and asked her if she had any questions. She had only one: "There's going to be a trial, and after they're convicted, they get shoved out an airlock, right?" "One can only hope, Jen," her father responded as he headed for the lift. Bryne was actually hoping for that, though it was likely that he, Jena, and Wagner would have to testify. He hadn't had to testify at a court-martial in a long time, and Wagner, though she had to testify on a number of occasions in her capacity as a Deputy Sheriff, had never been at anything of this magnitude. Still, the thought of those two scum, and their remaining followers, tasting hard vacuum appealed greatly to him. Especially since it was almost certain that those two councilmen had ordered the kidnapping attempt on his daughter. He looked at his hand...it was shaking. He commanded himself to be still. Nothing set off the inner mixture of anger and fear than the idea of a threat to Jena. He took a deep breath, and steadied himself...never let one's crew see the weak moment. Just then the door opened, and he stepped out into the Bay. At once, Mr. Diley, the DC Officer, came up to him. "Yes, Mr. Diley?" "Sir, what about the smuggling compartment, the one Laban was using?" "That's on hold until after his Tribunal," Byrne reminded Diley. "It's still technically part of a crime scene. Keep it sealed until it's released." "Yes, Sir. And the others we found?" "They were empty, correct?" Byrne asked. "Yes, Sir." "All right, use them for storage. But make sure they're plainly marked as such. Understood?" "Perfectly, Sir," Diley said. Then Byrne went across the Bay. Though there was normal activity further aft, what was happening by the Council shuttle was anything but. He could see that there was a hole in the port side hatch, and that the shuttle's occupants were all lying prone on the deck, face down. And Sergeant Wagner, Mr. Malik, and her Security men, along with the Warriors from Katana, keeping them under close guard, with both Wagner and Malik waving their rifles around whenever someone looked up. Then Lieutenant Lars, the LSO and a former member of Red Squadron now into an LSO tour, came up to him, saluting. "Captain." "Mr. Lars," Byrne said as he returned the salute. "Anything since the shuttle was secured?" "No, Sir, other than one of the Councilmen glaring at Sergeant Wagner after she got off the shuttle. If looks were like knives, Sir..." Lars said, seeing Byrne nod. "Anyway, Mr. Malik's fist sort of...intersected his nose, and he went down. They've been pretty docile since." Both men chuckled. "Good, because these vermin won't be polluting this ship any longer than is necessary," Byrne said. "Let me know when that shuttle's due to arrive." "Sir." Byrne walked over to where the prisoners were lying facedown on the deck. He recognized the councilmen by their robes, though he had met both of them before, albeit under better circumstances, and motioned to Sergeant Wagner. "Sergeant, that was a nice piece of work. Well done." "Thank you, Sir," she replied, with more than a touch of pride in her voice. "Casualties?" "None on our team, but three of theirs will leave that shuttle in body bags," Wagner reported. "When they leave this ship, I'll need another stiff drink or two, because I killed two of them. Mr. Malik got another." "It never gets easy, Sergeant," Byrne observed. "Not even from a cockpit. Any other problems?" "No, Sir," Wagner responded. "We've imaged the ship completely on the inside, and we're waiting on Dr. Rena to come and take the bodies off." "How come she hasn't been here yet?" Byrne wanted to know. "Sir, she's busy with a civilian woman who was two wee....sectons early in her due date. The lady went into labor, probably due to all the stress, and, well, Sir, you know how long that can be." "Of course; she's busy with the business of delivering someone into the world, and those who've left it can wait their turn," Byrne observed. "Oh,well, they're not going anywhere." "No, Sir," she admitted. "They've assumed ambient temperature, and won't be going anywhere soon." "Good," Byrne said. "Now, let's go see our two Councilmen." Both walked over to where the two Councilmen lay on the deck, side-by-side. Galerius looked up, as the Captain called his name, and saw Byrne and Wagner, the latter with her assault rifle pointed in his direction, standing above him. "What do you... infidels want?" "Just wanted to see how you feel now that your grand schemes are now totally ruined, and your movement has been completely discredited and disgraced," Byrne said, though careful not to gloat. "It'll be a long time coming before anyone in this Fleet ever reads the bilge your movement put out." "That may be a while, sir," she said to Byrne, smiling out of one side of her mouth. "I hear there's a toilet paper shortage." "You defilers!" Elagabalus shouted, veins in his neck bulging. "We were going to save the Human Race! What remains of our people, led astray by that...demon Adama and his sycophants! Get it back to the True Faith and the True Path..." Wagner dropped down onto one knee, and pointed her HK-416 in his face. "I'd be careful with that term if I were you, Sire...." She glared at him, and kept the weapon pointed right between his eyes. "I told this to Laban, and I'll tell it to you: The alien scum who took me used that last phrase to describe my world, my country, and its people. If you say that phrase around me again, I'll blow both of your kneecaps out. And that's not a threat. It's a promise." She got up. "And there's scarcely anyone in this Fleet that wouldn't take a bullet for Commander Adama, after the way he saved them from the Cylons. So keep your bile about the Commander inside your big mouth!" "It's not too late to get rid of 'em, Ma'am," Metxan pointed out. "A rifle off of safety, and...... "There is that," Malik said. "I imagine the Master Chief won't be happy seeing his nice flight deck all covered in blood, though." Though a deck chief in his own service wouldn't have any such concerns. He'd go along, and actually take it as a matter of pride that such....traitors were disposed of on his deck. The LSO came up to Byrne. "Sir, Galactica shuttle incoming. Five centons out." "Thank you, Mr. Lars," Byrne said. "These vermin won't be polluting the ship much longer." He glared again at the two Councilmen. "Right now, I'm speaking as a parent, not as a Naval Officer. After what you two wanted Laban to do to my daughter, I made a promise to see whoever was responsible dead. When it's time to put the two of you in that airlock, I'll be there, and my face is one of the last things you will ever see." He got into both of their faces. "When your stupidity got her involved in this, it became personal to me. Right now, I am tempted to kill both of you right here, on this deck." He paused for a moment. "But...But, I'm enough of a professional to let the law take its course. And when it is time to shove you out the airlock, I'll be there. I'm not threatening it. I promise it," Byrne hissed. Then the Bay's PA system barked. "Shuttle incoming." The shuttle came in, and touched down. The hatch opened, and Sergeant Fabius, one of Castor's duty partners, came over. He wasn't SF qualified, though he'd been hoping to take the selection course. "Captain," he said, saluting. "I see you have some garbage to take over to Galactica." "That we do, Sergeant," Byrne said. "The sooner we get them off this ship, the better. The air filters may give out any micron. Hope you brought enough cuffs." "That we did, Captain," Fabius said. He waved to his shuttle, and his men came off. "If you'll excuse me, Sir." Byrne nodded, and Fabius directed his men to their business. Within centons, all of the surviving terrorists were cuffed, formally placed under arrest, and hustled aboard the shuttle. "All done, Sir," Fabius said when it was finished. "Good. Have you heard anything about Croft's people?" Byrne asked. He nodded. "Yes, Sir. All of the hostages are safe, two troopers were wounded. Kuntz and Dorado. But Corporal Kunis didn't make it. They say he threw himself on a grenade. Right before it could take out some hostages." "There went a brave man," Byrne commented. He looked at Wagner, who had her head bowed. "Sergeant?" "I helped train him, Sir," she said, wiping a tear away. "He knew the risks, though." "Indeed," Byrne said. "As do we all. We'll drink a toast to him later." He turned to Fabius. "Anything else, Sergeant?" "No, Sir. Commander Adama will be in touch later." "All right, and thank you," Byrne nodded. "Safe trip back with these....slime. And don't forget to get the inside of the ship scrubbed and disinfected. Soon." "They won't be making trouble, I promise you that, Sir." He nodded to Wagner. "Sergeant." She nodded, and Fabius went back into the shuttle. It fired up its engines, and sailed out of the bay, off to Galactica. "Well, Sir, that takes care of that," Malik said. "Still, a brave warrior was lost, saving the helpless." "Yeah," Byrne said. "Doesn't make it easier, though," Then a thought occurred to him. Though each bottle was worth its weight in gold, he had enough Langulin to use up a few. If there was a time to crack open a bottle or two, this was it. "All right, those on the shuttle takedown, get cleaned up, and meet me in the crew lounge. I'm breaking out two or three bottles of that Langulin in my stash. We'll drink to a successful takedown, and to the memory of a brave man who died so that others may live. Be there in thirty centons." And there was a chorus of "Yes, Sir!" Adama and the rest watched the shuttle return from Constellation on the Ward Room's monitor. Even from the scan, they could tell that the prisoners were glaring at the pilots and deck hands with unconcealed hostility, and that the expression was being returned. Then Tigh came on the line. "Commander, Red Squadron patrol returning, Sir. Boomer and Starbuck." "Very well, Tigh. Have them report to the Ward Room after Decon, and have the Cylon pilots follow the usual debriefing procedures." "Yes, Sir." A few centons later, Boomer and Starbuck came into the Ward Room, and they found the atmosphere quite different than it had been when they left. And they could tell that things had improved considerably. "Commander," Boomer reported. "Captain," Adama replied. "The incident, at least the takedown of the terrorists, is closed. Major Croft's men stormed the Delta, and killed most of the terrorists. Some tried to escape in a shuttle, but Constellation ran them down. Those are in custody." Both Warriors breathed a huge sigh of relief. Though they tried not to show it. Then Flight Leader Hadries came on the line from the Base Ship. "By your command," "All right, then," Adama said. "What did you find?" "Well, sir, be glad that incident was resolved. Because there's no habitable world in that system." Boomer said. Adama turned to the monitor, and saw the Centurion nod in agreement. "No habitable world?" Pelias asked. "No, Sire," Boomer said. He plugged in his scanner disc, and replayed the data. The planet may have been habitable at some point, but was now a runaway greenhouse. "Temperatures off the charts for a planet; CO2 atmosphere laced with various acids, and pressure that would squash anyone like an insecton." "Our data concurs," the Cylon said. "No life forms could exist on that world." "Any of the other worlds there have usable resources?" Adama asked. "No, Sir, and we checked them out pretty thoroughly. We took our time, like Captain Byrne said. Nothing. Not even Tylium." "Confirmed," the Cylon said. "Nothing usable for anyone." "I see," the Commander said. "So, another useless system, among many?" "That's about it, Commander," Boomer said, seeing Hadries nod in the affirmative. "All right, well done, all of you. I think we're finished." Adama said. "Thanks, all of you." The Cylon said: "By your command," and signed off. Boomer and Starbuck turned to leave, when Adama asked. "Captain, a word, please." Boomer motioned Starbuck to go on ahead. "Commander?" "Even though this incident is closed, we still haven't gone through all of their data," Adama said. "Until we know for sure that all of them are accounted for..." "I understand, Commander," Boomer replied. "I'll tell Athena to keep the twins with their new big sisters, and she'll stay with them for a few more days. Just to make sure." "A sensible precaution," Adama agreed with his son-in-law. "Hopefully, by that time, we'll have all of them accounted for. Again, thank you, Captain." Boomer nodded. "Sir," then he went to join Starbuck. "Be glad, Commander," Tinia said. "Imagine trying to explain to Galerius that one of the systems was uninhabitable." "He would've accused us of lying, Tinia," Xaviar said. "Given the man's character, and what he has done." "I believe you're right, Sire," agreed Adama. Then the telecom buzzed again. Croft's shuttle was returning, and would land in Alpha Bay. "I think we should be there, don't you agree?" "Indeed, Commander," Pelias said. "We saw them off, now to welcome them back after a job well done." "Though not all of them are returning," Xaviar said. Croft's shuttle flew into Alpha Bay, and from the cockpit, he could tell there was a welcoming committee waiting. After the shuttle maneuvered to a landing, Croft taxied her to her berth, powered her down, then looked out the window, and saw the Commander, several members of the Council, and a number of Warriors and deck hands gathered. When he popped the hatch, there was a great deal of cheering and applause. Then the Commander came up to him, and put out his hand "Major, well done." "Thank you, Sir. We couldn't have done it without the weapons Sergeant Wagner demonstrated for us, and without one other person." He turned back to the Shuttle. "Ensign Hunley, front and center!" Hunley came out, and when she saw Adama and the Council members there, she came to strict attention and saluted. "Commander!" "At ease, Ensign." Adama said. "Your information was vital to Major Croft's success, and you did your job well." "Commander, whatever she did in the past, she more than made up for it. Without her intelligence, this operation might have had a far different ending," Croft pointed out. "Quite so, Major," Adama said. "And we shall have to take that up at the appropriate time." He turned to the Council members, who were nodding. "One moment, Major, Ensign." "Commander," Tinia said. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" "Yes, though I imagine Sire Solon won't like it," Adama thought aloud. "Do the rest of you agree?" And he saw all of them, including Lydia, nod. "Very well." The rest of the troopers had gotten off the shuttle, but weren't going anywhere yet. They were watching the Major and Ensign Hunley, then moved out of the way, as the wounded were off-loaded, then the covered body of Kunis. Then Adama approached the pair. "Ensign, as Council President, I have the power to commute sentences, and issue a full pardon to anyone. The law is not black and white, as the Major knows." Adama saw Croft nod, then he went on. "Ensign Hunley, for services rendered during the Delta Incident, your record is hereby expunged, and you will receive a full pardon, and the opportunity to resume your career with a fresh start. Formal presentation will be made at the next Council session, where this incident will be discussed." He put out his hand to her, and she shook it. "Well done, Ensign. Get cleaned up, and report with the Major to the Ward Room for debriefing in one Centar." She nodded vigorously. "Yes, Sir!" And as she left the Bay, everyone was clapping and cheering. "Major, well done to you and your men." Adama said. "Your casualties?" "Two wounded, Commander, though they're walking wounded. And Corporal Kunis, sir. He died saving who knows how many hostages from that grenade." Croft said. "Do you plan to recommend him for a decoration, though it will be posthumous?" Adama wanted to know. "Yes, Sir. Something like this deserves a Gold Cluster." Adama saw the Council members nod. "All right, Major. Put it in writing, and I'll approve it. Did he have any next of kin in the Fleet?" "I don't know, Sir, but I can find out," Croft replied. He knew what was coming next. "If he doesn't have anyone, would you, as his Commanding Officer, accept it on his behalf?" Croft stood a little straighter on hearing that. "Yes, Sir!" "Again, well done, Major." Adama said. "Get cleaned up yourself, and report to the Ward Room in a Centar. Captain Byrne and Sergeant Wagner, Commander Allen, and Baltar will join us via the com line. "Yes, Sir!" As Adama and the Council members got ready to head back for the debriefing, Tigh called from the Bridge. Apollo's patrol was returning. "He's a couple of centars early," Adama remarked. "I wonder...." "Perhaps the system they found was just as useless as the first patrol's?" Tinia asked. Adama was just as curious. "Let's find out, shall we?" Apollo and Sheba came into the Ward Room after Adama and the rest. Orion was already on the line from the BaseShip, and they had something to report. "Commander," Apollo said. "Apollo, Sheba," Adama said, shaking their hands. "Orion," he nodded, and saw the Cylon Strike Leader nod in return. It was almost eerie, the way almost all of the renegade Cylons had picked up such Human mannerisms. He shook off the thought..."The terrorists on the Delta have been taken down, and several who tried to run are in custody, thanks to Captain Byrne and the Constellation, and this part of the incident is closed. All the hostages are safe." Like Boomer and Starbuck, both let out sighs of relief, but this time, Apollo and Sheba showed it. "Good news, Commander." "Yes," Adama agreed. "Now, what did you discover?" "Sir, we found a habitable world, but it depends on your definition of habitability," Apollo said, playing his scan disc. "How so?" Adama asked. He watched as his son called up the holodata. The graphic of a solar system filled the space over the table, and Apollo gestured to his wife. "Commander, the system consists of six planets, orbiting a binary, consisting of two main sequence stars." The scan zoomed in. "Two are within the habitable zone, but the inner one is small, and lacks a substantial atmosphere. The third world out from the binary is the one in question, and is just inside the habitable zone, here." She swept across the virtual space, to the planet in question. "About the size of Virgon, it has an oxygen atmosphere, two moons, and a substantial magnetic field." She zoomed in further, showing the planet's surface variations in land and water. Parts were thickly swathed in clouds, others were bare to the glaring sun. One continent was crossed with several active volcanoes. "Commander, much of the planet's three main continents are desert and semi-desert, here, and here. A lesser continent, here in the southern hemisphere, is mostly jungle, and there are some islands there that might fit one's definition of a tropical paradise, but that's not much compared to the rest of the world," Sheba remarked. "Our data verifies this assessment, Commander," Orion said over the com. "Extremes of temperature, harsh terrain for the most part, and dangerous indigenous life forms, such as very large lizard-type creatures, for example, in some of the deserts. This world is not suitable for a large settlement." "No sign of any past civilization?" Tinia asked. "No, Siress, and we looked for any such signs: old ships or satellites, other orbiting space debris, ruins on the planet, things like that. Nothing, at least in the time we had," Apollo reported, and Orion nodded affirmatively. "Did you land?" Asked Xaviar. "Yes, Sire, we did. The plant life is fit for Human consumption, for the most part," Sheba said, "though we only had our basic field test kits. We brought some samples back, for Doctor Wilker to run more thorough tests. Also, the animal life in some areas looks like it could consume Humans, not the other way around." "Like Ki?" Adama wanted to know. "No, Sir, not like Ki," Apollo replied. "But some of those giant lizards look like they could take a man down if they wanted to. Easily. We kept our distance, though." "Good," Adama said. "Other resources?" "Yes, Commander," Orion said. "Our scans show that this same world in the system has Tylium deposits. Not extensive, but accessible, nonetheless." "And some of the larger asteroids have mineral deposits we can sure use, Commander," Sheba pointed out. "We could top up our supplies." Adama nodded. "I'll consider it." He looked at the trio. "Well done, all of you. Pass that on to your pilots, Strike Leader Orion, and good work." The Centurion nodded, "By your command," and signed off. "Apollo, Sheba, a moment, please," Adama said as the two were preparing to leave. "Father?" Apollo asked. "I told this to Boomer about the twins. We may not have gotten all of the Il Fadim, since we haven't finished processing all of the encrypted data from their devices. It may be a good idea to keep Boxey with Blue Squadron for a few more days." Adama told the both of them. "That may be a good idea, Commander," Sheba said. "There's always a chance of missing someone." "Agreed," Adama said. "How's he doing otherwise?" "Boxey couldn't be happier," Apollo told his father. "He's always glad to be with his big brothers and sisters. He's practically turned the bunk room into a miniature Academy." "I'll get his homework for a few more days, Commander," Sheba decided. "Until we know we've gotten all of these....borays." "Good, Sheba," Adama told his daughter-in law. He looked at both of them, and said, "Go, then. Get cleaned up, and spend some quality time with him. No doubt he's been anxious to have you come back." His son and daughter-in-law smiled. "Yes, Commander," and then they left the Ward Room. "Commander, after the debriefing, the hard part begins," Pelias commented. "The 'hard part', Sire?" Adama asked. "The Tribunal," Pelias said. "One does wish, in a perverse way, that Captain Byrne had blown the shuttle out of the sky." "Why?" Lydia asked. "It's quite simple, Lydia," Xaviar said. "It would have saved Sire Solon a lot of work." "Oh." Lydia now understood what he meant. "And, it gives these barge lice a chance to spout their screed to anyone with a IFB link," said Pelias. "A platform provided by us." "Indeed," Adama said. "But, the law is the law, and we must give even them the benefit of it. Now, the process of the law takes its course." Chapter 22: Over the next secton, preparations for the Tribunal were seemingly at light speed. Much to Galerius' displeasure, he'd been informed that a number of those taken into custody before the seizure of the Delta were planning to turn state's evidence, and testify against him, along with most of those who had left the movement after the explosion on the Adena, increasing the witness list against him and the other plotters considerably. Not to mention that with all of the other evidence-including the material from both his and Elagabalus' offices, and he knew that the odds of him and many of the faithful were long indeed. When he was brought before Sire Solon, for the formal indictments against him and the others, he angrily said, "More bilge from Adama and his sycophants. I trusted you, Sire, to defend the people against him, and you did not." "If that is the way you see it," Solon replied. He didn't want to play this tiresome game any longer than necessary-and this wasn't the first time in his career that he'd had defendants try to use the system to act as a platform for whatever agenda-political or religious-they had. "Then I shall refuse a Protector, and act as my own counsel. And I shall defend the other faithful." "That is your right, Sire," Solon told him. "However, you will need a legal adviser. I will appoint Sire Memnon to act in that capacity." "If you must," Galerius angrily growled. He who acts as his own Protector has a fool for a client, Solon thought, looking at the other, but said nothing as Galerius and the rest of his followers were led away. While the legal process was working its course, Adama decided to divert the Fleet into the system that Apollo and Sheba's patrol had surveyed The small, airless second planet was not visited, apart from a few planetlogists who wanted to visit a type of world that had been largely unknown in their home quadrant; large enough for an atmosphere, but holding none. The third planet, though habitable-or semi-habitable, to use another phrase, which had the Tylium deposits,was the target of the miners, while other mining teams were sent to some of the larger asteroids. All of their immediate needs would then be taken care of, Adama was pleased to find out. "Captain, you were in JAG?" Wagner asked Captain Byrne at dinner one night. He was thinking of her more and more as Jena's big sister, and she could've been a daughter back home-the one he never had. And the Captain often had a dinner night with her, Jena, Mr. Malik, and Mr. Dante. "Yeah," Byrne said, "After my flying days, but before NASA called. Never went to law school, but it was more like a branch officer exchange." "Is it anything like that show?" Jena asked. While marooned on that planet, JAG had been one of her favorites. One of the other crew had the series in his packet, and so.... "Hardly," Byrne said. "Take away the intelligence agency stuff, and stopping terrorist plots, but yeah, the day-to-day, they got that right." "But office humdrum doesn't make an exciting presentation," Malik observed. "True," Byrne said. "Even if the Navy did cooperate with the production company. And more than a few cases were based on real events." He looked at all of them. "One thing you all should know: Laban's case has been combined with all the others. He was part of a larger conspiracy, so one big case is the result." "And let me guess: we've all been subpoenaed," Wagner commented, crunching on something. It was not a question. "Right you are: They'll take him first," Byrne told everyone. "We go in two days. Opening arguments start tomorrow, 0900, and we're on the day after that. And that's not all: Galerius is leading the defense, if you can believe that. They have a legal advisor, someone called Sire Memnon, but he's defending the whole bunch, himself." "That's just great, Sir," said Wagner, drolly. "In his twisted mind, everything's backwards. He'll try to put us on trial." "Don't count on that," Byrne said. "Solon's prosecuting the case, and the judges won't let Galerius get very far with any....antics." She shook her head. "Lovely." "Sir," Malik asked. "Do you regret not blowing them out of the stars?" "I'm beginning to. Definitely." Byrne glanced upwards. "Forgive me, Raymond Burr, wherever you are!" The next day, the Tribunal opened, and as Sire Pelias predicted, there was extensive coverage on IFB, and SRO in the Tribunal chamber. Byrne remembered some famous trials that had been on CNN, and he'd been glad that he'd been deployed when CNN had run the O.J. Simpson criminal trial-now that had been a media circus, or the pretrial proceedings of Jaycee Dugard's kidnappers-before they had plead guilty. The first day was pretty straightforward, with the formal charges being read publicly, and each of the defendants rising to enter their plea, followed by both sides presenting their opening statements. As this was a treason case, under Colonial Law, no bail was permitted.As expected, Galerius had been openly defiant, stating that all of the defendants were being tried not only for their beliefs, but also for actions that had been taken to defend their faith, even comparing it to the Thousand Yahren War, itself. Solon, though, painted the defendants as cloaking their own desire for power-personal, political, military, and yes, religious, in the guise of faith. Of simple "freedom of worship". "Their twisted interpretation of religious writing led them down the path of Treason Against the State, and their ultimate desire to impose a lifestyle on the inhabitants of this Fleet, a lifestyle that no one, apart from the defendants themselves, wanted. At the point of enslavement. Or a gun." Galerius, forgetting that he was in a Tribunal and not a Council debate, interrupted Solon: "We would not be in this defile," countered Galerius, "this blind trek across the endless void, had we stayed upon the True Path. Our defeat is our punishment for turning our steps away from the Way of Truth!" "Yes!" screamed one of the other defendants, rising up from their seats. They pointed a finger at Adama: "And this demon, the scion of evil, and his minions would keep us in..." "Silence! Boomed Solon. "Any further outbursts, and I shall have the defense gallery emptied!" Adama thundered. The defendants returned to their seats, and were quiet-for the moment. The arguments took the entire day, and the next day came Laban's portion of the Tribunal. In the witness room, Byrne and Wagner waited, in their services' respective dress blues, while Jena was in her best civilian outfit. Paulson and Metxan were there also, as was Mr. Malik, all in their dress uniforms, though in deference to courtroom etiquette, as well as inflamed passions, he forewent wearing the traditional sta di'ich, or ceremonial dagger, normally on the belt. "Just answer Solon's questions, and parry Galerius' own, and you'll all be fine." Byrne said. "If you say so, Captain," Paulson said. He'd done this before in his pre-Holocaust job as a homicide detective. "Been a while since I've had to testify at a Tribunal." "Join the club," Wagner said. "It's been forty year...yahrens since I've had to do this." Jena went first, and found the inside of a courtroom an intimidating place. But, she gathered up her pluck, and straightforwardly and succinctly answered Solon's questions about the initial break-in to her cabin, and how things followed from that. When he was finished, Galerius knew that he'd have to ask something, even for formality's sake, and he looked at Laban. "Were you ever dressed...provocatively aboard ship?" he asked. "No, Sire." "Did you ever try to, in any fashion, ...provoke Petty Officer Laban?" "OJBECTION!" Solon raised. "Irrelevant." "Sustained." Galerius hung his head. Clearly, the "blame the victim" tactic was out-just as Sire Memnon had repeatdly said to him. He simply nodded. "No further questions from this witness." Jena was allowed to step down, and on her way out of the courtroom, she glared at all of the defendants-the two councilmen and Laban especially, with unconcealed contempt. Then it was Wagner's turn. For many, though her recent IFB interview had had a lot of viewers, this was the first time many in the Fleet had seen her in her Air Force dress blues. She had despised the skirt that had been part of the AF women's dress uniform, and was glad to have trousers, because if these religious nuts saw her in that short skirt, they'd go ballistic here and now, seeing that, doubtless screaming invectives about her being a harlot, the slut of Hades Hole, demon's whore, corrupter of youth, and so on. After being sworn in, she sat, decided these folks seriously needed some new ergonomic chairs, and Solon got to the point. "And after discovering the break-in, you believed that he would return?" "Yes, Sire. I did." "And he did?" "Correct. And after what could best be called a... short brawl, he was taken into custody." "Was he armed?" Solon wanted to know. "He had two knives, and after one was kicked away in the fight, he attempted to go for another one. "What did you do then?" Lauren looked right at Laban. "I drew my own weapon, and told him if he made one wrong move with the knife, I'd blow his brains out., or words to that effect." "He then gave up?" "He did, Sire." Solon then asked about the imagery of the cabin, and of the smuggling compartment Laban had found and used. "He had it as an improvised dungeon," Wagner said as Solon referred to the imagery of the compartment, which was on display as a holographic image. "And his motive?" "My men checked his PDA." She glared at Laban. "He had it unencrypted, and he wanted to kidnap me, Jena, or both. To exchange." "Exchange? For whom? Solon asked, motioning to the defense gallery. "For the leader of the Il Fadim, Mr. Sherrock," Wagner said, and a gasp came up from the public gallery. "Thank you, Sergeant." Solon then motioned to Galerius. "Your witness." Galerius knew that with her, and when Captain Byrne testified after her, there wasn't much he could do. So he asked the only question he reasonably could. "Were you trying to entrap Petty Officer Laban?" Wagner shook her head, and replied, "No. Entrapment means you're trying to set someone up to take the fall. We were waiting for whoever had broken into the cabin to return, if they did so. He didn't find what he was looking for the first time, and several of us had an idea he'd be back. His choice was to come back, and he did so." Memnon whispered in his ear, and reluctantly, Galerius nodded. He knew that legally, the case against Laban was open and shut. But he still asked her a similar question to the one he'd asked Jena. "Did you, by your dress or behavior, in any way provoke Petty Officer Laban?" Before she could answer, Solon shouted again, "OBJECTION!" "Sustained. The witness will not answer the question." Galerius was defeated, and he knew it. "Nothing further." The rest of the case was straightforward. Byrne, Malik, Paulson, and Metxan all testified, and though Galerius tried to joust with Byrne, Solon's objections, and the judges' own slapping down of Galerius, cut him off. For Byrne, it was almost like Old Home Week. It was, in a way, as if no time at all had passed, and he was back in uniform, at JAG, in a hot case before the Admiral. In a way, he loved it, despite the closeness to him, personally. When the day's testimony ended, and Adama got up to leave, Laban got up from where he'd been sitting with Galerius and Memnon, and tried to lunge at Adama. The Commander was caught off guard,for Laban was surprisingly quick and lithe in his movements. Adama was knocked to the floor, and Laban was trying to strangle him, spewing invectives and hate at the Commander. But in an even faster move, Malik had sailed in, grabbed Laban by the collar, and hurled him off. In a move almost too quick to see, he had Laban on the floor, one huge hand around his throat, and the other, fist raised and ready to deliver a death blow. "Hold!" came a voice. Adama's, as he was helped from the floor. Again, with surprising quickness, Malik was on his feet, the prisoner dropped, at attention and sharply saluting Adama. "Sir!" he said. "Get him out of here," rasped Adama, as Laban was grabbed, and led away. Adama looked up at the Zohrloch. "I...owe you my life, Mister Malik." "Doing my duty to my Commander, sir," replied the other, still stiff at attention. "At ease, Mister Malik," said Adama. "Sir." As they filed out, Tigh noticed the IFB crew, and asked, "Did you get that?" "We did, Colonel," the cameraman answered. "We sure did." Chapter 23: After a day's recess to allow Adama to recover from Laban's attack, the proceedings resumed. Technician Hummer was the next witness, and he explained how the PDAs had provided valuable information, even if much of it had been encrypted. And he also went into detail about how he was able to traced messages back to their original source. But he also had a surprise. "I noticed that the head of the dismantled IL Cylon, Septimus, had somehow been activated, and had been recording everything that had gone on in the lab, including the processing of the PDAs and other evidence. I deactivated the head, and I tried to see if the head had been transmitting the information somewhere. It had." "And where did you trace the data link?" Solon asked. "To two Council offices on the Rising Star," Hummer said. He pointed at the dock. "Sixtus, Sire Galerius' aide, was one." "And the other?" "Craiks, the aide to Sire Elegabalus." The late and unlamented aide, Hummer said to himself. "And after this incident was closed, you were given their pads to analyze, correct?" Solon asked Hummer. "Yes, Sire." "And what did you find on them?" Solon asked, turning his head to face the dock. "The recordings from the head were stored on both of them," Hummer said. Solon nodded. "Can you play the recordings?" "Yes, Sire," and Hummer did. Conversations between Adama and Hummer, Hummer and the other techs, even Dr. Wilker, were played. Status updates, processing of evidence, all were there. "I ask that these recordings be submitted as exhibits and admitted into evidence." "So ordered," Adama said. "And you also examined the PDAs? "Yes, Sire, I did." Solon then asked. "And where it was necessary, you decrypted the PDAs?" "Yes, Sire. I was able to decode them and print them out." Solon picked up the printouts. "These are the printouts, correct?" "Yes, Sire, they are." Solon then read from the printouts. Not only did they mention the plot to kidnap Captain Byrne's daughter, Sergeant Wagner, or both, but also Laban's spying, the exchanges about the coup plot and the explosives lab, Bevan's attempted assassination of Lieutenant Sargamesh and Ensign Korl, and the Delta seizure. He then faced the court. "Everything is here, their plans, from the short term to the long term, along with how they attempted to carry them out." Solon then asked that they be admitted into evidence, and after getting that, he then motioned to Galerius. "Your witness." Galerius knew that fencing with a tech like Hummer was a waste of time. He wasn't nearly as saavy with computers or other devices, for which the guy was almost legend, and simply acknowledged his work and the results. But he did have one question for the record. "Technician, how often do you check your work?" "Sire, something like this? I do it at least three times, sometimes more. If it all checks out, as it did in these instances, then I'm ready to forward it." Hummer replied. "I see," Galerius said, looking back at the defense table. Sire Memnon was stoic, but Elagabalus had his head in his hands, as if he was sobbing. "Nothing further." "You may step down," and Hummer did so. As he left, Galerius was back at the table. And Memnon had something for him. "Expecting an old fogey like myself, or you, for that matter, to challenge one of these young people about computers is a waste of time, for they forget more about computers than any of us will ever know." Galerius acknowledged with a nod. "True, Sire." More witnesses came up, from Ensign Navia testifying about how Elagbalus had promised a religious utopia after taking power, and that the gas and the explosives were explained as a threat, until what had transpired aboard the Adena happened. Garth, Tarnia, and Zek, all told of the aftermath of the Adena explosion and fire, seeing the charred bodies and body parts, or those who'd been overcome by the gas. It went on to Beck, who had cut a deal, and testified about providing the explosives to Bevan, for the attempt to blow up Sargamesh's and Korl's Vipers. Then Vance, Niobe, and several others from the Delta, telling what had happened aboard during the seizure and the hostage situation. It took another two days, but Solon finally rested his case. "The Opposition rests." Before the Defense began it's "case", Sire Galerius asked for a one-day continuance, so that the Protection could assemble and prepare. It was granted, and the proceedings were set to reconvene in 48 centars. On the Constellation, Byrne had been watching the proceedings via IFB. Though Zara and Zed's commentary reinforced his loathing of the two, he'd been taking his own notes. At dinner, after Solon rested his case, he, Jena, Wagner, Dante, and Malik were talking, in his cabin, about things so far. "They really don't have much of a defense, don't they, Pop?" Jena asked. She had seen enough JAG, Perry Mason, or Boston Legal episodes on video to know when a case was pretty hopeless. Byrne nodded. "That's pretty much it, though usually, , real life is a lot different from TV shows, though your mother did like Boston Legal-it was in her packet, after all." He paused for a moment, smiling. "But there's lawyers on Earth who'd know they have a thankless job-defending the indefensible, and if Galerius lets Sire Memnon call him as a witness-he's the second chair, pretty much." "And he's pretty much defending himself into a guilty verdict. Hell, a country lawyer in Great Falls with a new shingle wouldn't take this case," Wagner said. "Unless the court appointed him to do it." But she did know of a couple who'd be drooling at the chance for something like this-even if it was just for the inevitable book deal afterward. "A Mob lawyer with a suitcase full of cash under his nose would hesitate to take this," said Byrne, chuckling. "So,what will the not-so-good Sire try?" Dante wondered. "He's tried the 'blame-the-victim' tactic, and that didn't work so well, and he knew not to fence with Hummer about the PDAs, the pads, even the recordings from that Cylon's head." "What about some form of religious justification, perhaps?" Malik offered, thoughtfully. "They know it is not a question of 'who', as Sergeant Wagner put it once, but 'why'." Byrne looked at him for a centon, then grinned."You've got it, Mr. "Malik." He looked at everyone around the table. "Think about it: their odds of any kind of acquittal are slim and none, to put it bluntly, so what have they got to lose?" "I get it," Dante said. "Use their defense as a means to get the message out." "Lovely," Wanger noted sourly. "And IFB puts the the message out for them. Free of charge, so they can spread their crap all over." "For any who have not yet been rounded up,"Malik finished for her. They looked at him. "Code words, for those who evaded the net. Perhaps waiting, to commit some as-yet unknown act of terror." "Lord, I hope not," Byrne said. "That's all we need." "Or," Dante pointed out, "to spread their message to anyone willing to listen. 'We may be doomed, but please, carry on with our work.' " Byrne nodded. "Exactly, Mr. Dante. But they'll be disappointed: not so much as a single protest ever since they were caught." "Well, it'll be interesting, whatever happens. Because it starts up for them, day after tomorrow," Wagner said. Chapter 24: The Tribunal opened with the Protection's case, precisely at 0900, and Sire Galerius knew, even if Sire Memnon hadn't been telling him repeatedly, that his odds of winning were very, very long. There was enough evidence presented so far, without the Opposition even presenting its rebuttal case, which it would, no doubt be enough to convict all of them a dozen times over. If this was to be his last stand and the hope, however faint it might be, that the Faithful might continue on, it had to be maintained. "Is the Protection ready?" Adama asked. Galerius nodded. "We are, and I call as my first witness Petty Officer Laban." Laban was then escorted into the courtroom-though after the attack on Adama he'd been watching the Tribunal from a secure video hookup in the Life Station's Security Office. And for this appearance, he was in full restraints. After being sworn in, under Galerius' questioning, he got to the point. "Sherok is the leader of the Faith in this Fleet. The True Faith. He is being medicated against his will, and any action, however repulsive it may be to to others, to those who follow the Faith, is justified to free him." "And the purpose of freeing him?" Galerius asked. "So that he could provide the necessary spiritual and moral guidance to those who follow The Path of True Enlightenment." Galerius nodded. He knew that Solon would tear him to pieces, but he'd made his point-even if hardly anyone was listening. "Your witness, Sire." Solon got up and composed himself. "Petty Officer Laban, your choice of targets, the daughter of Captain Byrne, of the Constellation, and Staff Sergeant Wagner, what was your reasoning?" Laban glared at the IFB camera. Though the brat and the bitch weren't in the witness gallery, they had to be watching via IFB. "Both are infidels. They defile us with their presence with their, with their shameless, outish ways, and their whorish behavior." "That is it?" Solon asked. "No! They pollute us, by maintaining their own ways, and not assimilating into our society." "The fact that neither one comes from the Twelve Colonies, and has never had even the slightest exposure to Colonial cultural norms, justifies your actions against them? Two people-one of whom is a teenage girl-who have done nothing to you, and yet you planned to hold them against their will." Solon pointed out. "Is that correct?" "Yes! Neither one is either willing, or able, to come to set their feet upon the True Path, and embrace the True Faith, that of the Il Fadim," Laban said, nearly shouting. "Despite the Colonial Charter of Governance guaranteeing their rights, even if neither one is Colonial by birth, and maintaining their loyalty to their home planet?" "Man's Law is different from the laws laid down by the Lords themselves, which they were directed to by God, in the ancient ages of Kobol," Laban said, calming down. Solon glared at him. "And that justifies kidnapping?" "Any action, in defense of the faith, and those who practice it, is justifiable under those circumstances.," Laban said proudly. "And I would gladly do it again, if that is what it takes to free the annointed leader of the movement." Though Galerius smiled at that, Sire Memnon was not happy. But he could only advise, and he maintained his composure. "Any action?" "Yes." "I see. May I direct the Tribunal's attention to The Book of The Word, specifically, the Analects of Han. Eighth Oration. What do we find? 'Cursed is he that stealeth another. Anathemas upon the one who carries off the child.' " He was quiet for a moment, and they all could see that Laban was about to explode. Galerius didn't look so happy, either. Solon turned to the tribunal members. "Nothing further." On the Constellation, Wagner was watching the IFB link from the Security Office. She'd finished her morning rounds of the ship, and had hardly any paperwork, she was glad to see. Mextan was with her, watching, and when Laban had said he'd do it again, she spat out some java she'd just drunk. "Did you hear him say that?" "Yes, Ma'am," Metxan said, nodding. "He just showed he's a fanatic, and has no remorse at all. That sort thinks it makes them look strong. The only thing he's sorry about is that he was caught." "Yeah. Makes me wish I had shot him anyway," Lauren said, shaking her head. "Kind of late for that now." "No arguing that, Ma'am," Metxan said as the Telecom buzzed. He picked it up."Security Office. Yes, Sir, she's right here." He handed the Telecom to her. "Captain Byrne for you, Ma'am." "Yes, Sir?" "Sergeant, are you watching this?" Byrne asked. He'd been just as surprised as she was. "Yes, Sir. This guy's got balls, granted, but he just put the noose around his own neck, as we'd say in Great Falls." Wagner said. "In Virginia we'd be asking "Regular or Extra Crispy," for the Chair," Byrne commented. "Want to bet that the others will be just as unrepentant?" "Sir, that's a given," she replied. "They'll be just like him, at least." Byrne looked at the monitor. The reaction from Zara and Zed was just like his own, for once. "Not arguing that, Sergeant." "You may call your next witness," Adama motioned to Galerius. "Thank you, and I call as my next witness Lieutenant Bevan." Bevan rose from the dock, and went to the witness box. After being sworn in, Galerius got to the point. "You admit to having attempted the....assassination, for want of a better term, of the two Zohrloch pilots in Red Squadron? Lieutenants Sargamesh, and Korl? Sargamesh once,, and both of them on a second occasion?" "Yes, and I am only ashamed to say that I failed," Bevan said, with angry pride, and a gasp came from the crowd. Were all of them going to be like this? Galerius nodded, trying not to show that he was sympathetic, though he knew little good that would do. "Would you explain your reasoning?" "Yes, Sire." He looked at Solon, and the witnesses' gallery. Several of the Zohrloch slime were there, watching the proceedings with visible interest. "We have been....polluted, for some time; not just in this Fleet, since being forced off our own natural homeworlds, but even back in the Colonies, by having aliens live among us, as well as those who are not truly Human." "Would you define that for the record?" Galerius asked. Maybe, just maybe, others would read this, and understand. "One who is truly Human is one who is either born in the Twelve Worlds, or is a direct descendant of the original colonists from the mother world of Kobol. Only those, those who share our origins, and our blood are pure. And those who are truly Human can embrace the True Faith, and follow the road of the True Path." Bevan said, a touch of pride coming into his voice. "Such is not given to..." he looked at the pilots in question, "outsiders." "So, then, to restore... purity to the Fleet, you embarked on this course of action?" Galerius asked. "Yes, Sire, I did. And my only regret is that I failed. Failed my race." A buzz came up from the witness gallery, and Adama banged the gavel. "Order in the Court!" Galerius nodded. "No further questions." He motioned to Solon. "Sire, your witness." Solon rose, and composed his thoughts. "Bevan, you would describe yourself as 'anti-alien'?" "No, Sire, I would not. Aliens have their place: only, not in this Fleet. The Fleet is for our people. They pollute our people and our ways, not just with their presence, but their ideas. Especially the young, as well as...many of our women." "And your definition of....'pollution?'" Solon asked, trying to keep his pyramid face. "Their culture, which is totally different from ours, whether it is the Zohrloch sub-Humans, the primitives from Ki, the Earthers-along with the slut married to the other Earth Captain, even those from the Proteus Prison. Not to mention those Cylon....renegades," Bevan said, matter of factly. He might just was well been talking about the weather. "We risk losing our purity, both of blood, but of purpose." "Despite the fact that the Charter of Governance protects all cultures within the Coloniies, whether Human or resident alien?" "When the Law of Man conflicts with the Law of God, then God's laws are supreme, just as they were ages ago, on Kobol," Bevan said proudly. "Even though Humans and aliens coexisted peacefully back in the Colonies?" Solon asked. "And such....deviations from the law of God in part led to our defeat." Solon looked at him with a bemused expression on his face. He turned to the camera. "Oh? And we all thought the Cylon Imperious Leader had a large hand in that," careful not to annoy a particular someone who was likely watching. And the buzz in the witness gallery resumed again, with some open laughter. Which quickly became quiet when Adama used his gavel again. Bevan's expression turned red, but he held his composure. "Among others, Sire." "And you wished to, and I am quoting here from Opposition exhibit two, the Manifesto left in his office by Sire Galerius, 'purify' the Fleet of all aliens and non-Colonial Humans?" Solon asked. "Yes!" Bevan said. "And I am not ashamed of that." Solon turned to Galerius, and mouthed the words "I have all of you now." And he saw Galerius put his left hand to his head and bow. "Nothing further of this...witness." The last word dripped a quiet scorn In Blue Squadron's Bunk Room, Apollo, Sheba, Jolly, Dietra, and Brie were watching the proceedings on IFB. . Their squadron was not on the patrol rotation that day, and the pilots had time to kick back and relax. Though Boxey was still back in the women's bunkroom, doing his homework, Apollo and Sheba had explained things to him as best they could. And he seemed to understand. For now, anyway. Brie had just come in with some of the boy's work to give to Sheba when Bevan was testifying. And she dropped everything when she heard Bevan's remarks. "Can you believe that? That maggot-infested boray!" "I'll say this for him," Sheba said, "If he's trying to get himself and the rest of them convicted, he's pretty much done that." Apollo nodded. "Captain Byrne told me a few days ago about some of the terrorist trials on Earth. A lot of times, the defendants try to use the court as a platform for spreading their ideology." "Anybody dumb enough to listen?" Jolly asked. Apollo smiled. "No. He said that in his country, the courts that handle terrorism cases don't allow any kind of cameras or audio in the courtroom. The same goes for nearly all the other countries on Earth." "So the only people who hear that pile of daggit drivel are those in the courtroom? Dietra asked, still watching the monitor. "That's what he said. It's kind of hard to spread your message when only a couple dozen or so people in the public gallery can hear your message," commented Apollo. "So they want to get convicted, Skipper? Jolly asked. "Are they crazy?" "Looks that way," Sheba agreed. Apollo said one other thing, "Captain Byrne said that some terrorists actually believe that getting convicted justifies their actions. And that others will flock to their banner." Sheba looked at him as if he were crazy. They both shook their heads. Sheba shook her head again. "Lords of Kobol, if I was a Protector, I wouldn't take this case for all the cubits on Caprica." "Same here," Apollo said. "I did it for my father and for Starbuck. But this case? Forget it!" After a recess for lunch, the Tribunal resumed at precisely 1300. "Sire, your next witness, please," Adama said to Galerius. "Thank you, Mr. President," Galerius said to Adama. "I now call Sire Elagabalus to the stand." Elagabalus gladly went to the stand, and after being sworn in, was eager to get going. "Sire, the plan,outlined in earlier testimony,to bring about order and purity to the Fleet? Would you please explain that to the Tribunal?" Galerius asked his co-defendant. "Certainly, Sire." Elagabalus said, trying to hide his eagerness. "The plan was to force the current governance of the Fleet to step down, and bring about a New Order. Then the Cylon....renegades would have been destroyed in a sneak attack, the ranks of the military cleansed of those who would rebel against the New Order, the population would be...purified of all asocial, immoral, and non-Human elements, and a new Colony, founded on a new world, with everyone living under the True Faith. As it was, long ago, on Kobol." "Fraking Boray," muttered Starbuck, who was sitting in the public gallery with Cassie on one side, and Chameleon on the other. He had no doubt where his nearest and dearest would have fallen under this so-called "New Order of Virtue." "I see..." Galerius noted. "And the purpose of the explosive devices and the nerve agent?" "Only the threat of a ghastly death inflicted on certain...vessels, would force the Council to take us seriously, then to resign en masse. " The witness paused. "It was meant only to be a threat, held in reserve as it were, but it could have been implemented." "Was there any actual intention to use the gas and explosives?" Galerius asked. "If necessary, but it was hoped that it wouldn't be resorted to." Galerius nodded, recalling the planning both of them had done. "And once the plan had been...compromised, to put it plainly, an alternative was needed, correct?" "Yes, and the plan was to gain the freedom of those who have been persecuted and harassed in this Fleet, and to found a Colony where the True Faith could be practiced openly and without fear. Where we could build, as it were, a New Kobol." "And was there any intention to actually harm anyone unless it was absolutely necessary?" Galerius asked. "No. No one was killed when the Delta was commandeered," was Elagabalus' response. "It was not our intention to kill anyone." "Thank you," Galerius nodded. "Your witness." Solon got up, and composed his line of questioning. "Sire, you state that the explosives and the nerve agent were intended as a threat, nothing more, correct?" "That is correct, Sire." Elagabalus said. "I call your attention to Opposition Exhibit six, the report from Doctor Wilker's lab: how do you explain item four? The remote detonators?" "Detonating them was meant to be as a last resort, Sire, nothing more," Elagablus said, his voice getting shaky. "A last resort?" "Yes." Solon nodded. "And your plan was to 'purify' the Fleet, correct?" "Yes, Sire, it was." Elagabalus admitted with some pride. "Define the nature and extent of this intended 'purification', if you would." "Those who would not, or could not, live under the tenets of the Faith, the New Order, would be exiled from the Fleet. If they wished to continue this quest for a backwards and primitive Earth, they would be allowed to do so." Elagabalus said. "Then I also draw your attention to Opposition Exhibit Seven, Sire," Solon said, producing a document. "It was found on your own computer, in your office." He thrust the hard copy at Elagabalus. "What is this?" "You don't recognize it?" Solon asked angrily. "It is a death list." He turned around, and held it up for all to see. "And a number of those in this very room are on it." "I know nothing about this," Elagabalus protested. "Oh? It states that the following are to be liquidated: several members of the Council, over a score of senior military officers, first and foremost among them, Commander Adama! And, also others who may pose a threat to the New Order. I shall not read the rest of list aloud, as it has already been entered into evidence, but many other prominent personages are listed," Solon thundered. "And look at the bottom: there are two signatures." He shoved the papers under Elegabalus's nose, and spoke angrily. "Look! Look at the one on the right. Is that your signature?" Elegabalus looked up, and glared hatefully at the Opposer, his expression one of contemptuous defiance, but his tone level. "If it is there, then it must be mine." "So it is, then," Solon said. "You speak of faith, and yet you committed an act of Piracy." "We did not commit piracy. We are not common thugs, nor are we low-down, brutish pirates," Elagabalus protested. "All we did was take action to defend and protect our Faith." "And yet, I call the Tribunal's attention to the Book of the Word again," Solon said. "Ka-Wab, a Chancellor to the Sixth Lord, stated that, and I quote, 'Piracy is a crime against all of Mankind, and pirates are the enemies of all Mankind, whether on the sea or in the void of space.' By that definition, by the very words of the Book you claim to cherish, you are an enemy of all," Solon pointed out. "When your faith is under threat, and is treated with contempt and persecuted, any action to preserve and defend it is necessary." "Being considered a fringe movement is more akin to ridicule, not sanctioned persecution," Solon countered. "None of your people were persecuted. Many of you held high and responsible positions. Positions of trust." Elagabalus glared at Solon. "Persecution is in the eye of the beholder. " "And yet, you intended to persecute those who disagreed with you in the theocracy that you planned to impose on this Fleet and its people? A harsh, regimented lifestyle, that no one else in the Fleet wanted or desired! " Solon thundered. "Again, any action, no matter how repulsive it may be to those not of the Faith, is justifiable in order to preserve, promote, and defend it," Elagabalus replied. "Including implicating the innocent? By your own words, here," and he once more raised the sheaf of hard copy, "you planned to divert attention, if needed, to members of the Otori Sect. A sect already under suspicion, for recent events that need not be recounted here. But enough so that, if your plan failed, certain remaining Otori could be blamed, to divert suspicion, giving you more time to bring your new plans to fruition!" He waited a beat. "IS THAT NOT CORRECT?" boomed the Sire. Slowly, Elegabalus looked up at him, and smiled malignantly. Solon turned to Galerius, who was now sweating profusely. He seemed to realize, finally, that his cause was truly lost, at least as far as the Tribunal was concerned. "No further questions from this....witness," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. Adama looked at Galerius. "Sire, do you have any additional witnesses?" "Mr. President, I do have one additional witness, but I require some time to prepare. The Protection requests a recess until 0900 tomorrow." Galerius said, recomposing himself. "Very well. We are in recess until 0900 tomorrow," Adama said, banging the gavel. On Constellation, Byrne had been watching with Wagner and Jena in his cabin. "Now what?" Byrne asked. "One more witness!?" "Pop?" Jena asked. "One more witness..." Byrne said. "Now I know who. Galerius is going to take the stand. And I'll bet that Sire Memnon is going to do the questioning." "What good is testifying going to do for him, Sir?" Wagner asked. "You saw it: when Elegabalus was being cross-examined, Galerius wasn't just sweating. There was a shot or two of him, and he had his hands in his head, like he was crying." "Not much, Sergeant," Byrne admitted. "If I was their advisor, I'd strongly advise against taking the stand. Of failing that, fall on my sword and let things fall where they may." Lauren watched as the IFB image changed from the courtroom to the IFB studio, where Zara and Zed were picking up their commentary. Like the Captain, she had developed a loathing for the duo. Tom Brokaw they're not, she thought. "Well, Sir, we'll know tomorrow morning." The next morning, the Tribunal resumed at precisely 0900 Centars.. Adama gaveled the proceedings open, then asked Galerius, "Is the Protection ready to proceed?" "We are, Mr. President. However, for reasons that will soon become obvious, Sire Memnon will assume the responsibility of Acting Protector for this day's testimony." Galerius announced to the court. In the Opposer's chair, Solon knew right away what was going to happen. Galerius himself would testify. And Adama realized it as well. "Very well. Sire Memnon, you may proceed." Adama told the protection. "Thank you, Mr. President," Memnon said, rising slowly. Though elderly, he retained a laser-sharp mind, and was a virtual walking encyclopedia of the law. So much so, that he was dictating all he knew into a recorder, so that when he passed on, his knowledge would remain. "I call Sire Galerius to the stand." Galerius eagerly went to take the stand. After being sworn in, Memnon got to it. The previous afternoon and evening, Galerius had told Memnon what he wanted to do, and the advisor, though he strongly counseled against Galerius taking the stand, went ahead with the man's wishes. If he wants to impale himself, let him, Memnon's reasoning went. But at least he'll do so under the eye of the law. "Sire, before the Fall of the Colonies, you were known in some circles as a...dandy, a free-wheeler who loved life, and you were assumed to have no serious religious convictions, is that correct?" "Yes, that would be so," Galerius replied. "And after fleeing the Colonies?" Memnon asked. "I began to rediscover my religious foundations, though it was a slow process. However, after our various..encounters with other races, various crises, I began to develop those further." "I see," Memnon nodded. "And why?" "One began to feel that, as a race, we had lost our way from what the Lords of Kobol intended. And the level of decadence we had in the Colonies, prior to the Fall, as well as things we have encountered since, moved me in that direction," said Galerius. "Now, if you will tell the court, how did you discover the Il Fadim?" "Through my friend and fellow councilor, Sire Elegabalus, who, through a late friend, Squire Selonius, as many here know, died of natural causes during our stay at Brylon Station, introduced me to Sherrock and his preaching," Galerius said. "Though this may....disturb some, what turned your convictions from thought to some kind of action?" "A number of things, Sire," Galerius remembered. "First, the Boron-Din incident, Ki, and our various encounters with the Ziklagi. Then, discovery of the Earthers, and....other events." "Other...events? Would that mean Baltar's defection along with his crew?" Memnon asked. "OJBECTION!" Solon said, rising from the Opposer's Table. "Counsel is leading the witness." "Sustained," Adama said. It was a token protest, since the outcome was a certainty. Still, the legal niceties had to be observed. "I will rephrase the question, Mr. President," Memnon said. "What was the 'other event?' "Baltar's defection, and that of his entire crew, was that 'event.' you describe." Memnon nodded. Not my preferred way with a client, but his choice. "What was your...tipping point, so to speak?" "The Zohrloch and the Earthers. Both, in their own way, have maintained their links to their respective societies, and have refused to totally assimilate into ours," Galerius replied, glaring at those in question, and at the IFB camera. "The Zohrloch and the Earth woman, Wagner, especially." "How so?" "Their way of life, and the Earth woman's....tomboy attitude. Totally uncalled for in a woman, even one who is in a military service," said Galerius. "A similar description would describe Captain Byrne's still," he sniffed loudly, "...uncivilized daughter." Watching that from his station on Constellation's Bridge, Byrne was ready to smash his fist through Galerius' face, only the monitor, and several miles of space, were in the way. "That snobbish, no good, foppish, slime-bucket...." And some choice U.S. Navy invectives followed. "Sir?" Dante asked. "Maybe I should have let Wagner and her boys finish them off on the deck, Mr. Dante. Too late for that now." In the Security Office. Sergeant Wagner and Mextan were watching. She said nothing, but Mextan watched as she reflexively grasped her Mark-23 pistol and released it. Several times. "Ma'am?" "I'll say this: when they put him in the airlock, I plan to be there," she growled. "Don't blame you at all, Ma'am. Just please, don't shoot the monitor." "And so, you and your...associates, felt that only through strong action could our people return to our Kobolian heritage?" "Yes, Sire," Galerius said. "And I have no regrets at all." "I see." Memnon said. He motioned to Solon, "Your witness," before sitting down. Solon rose, then gathered his thoughts. "Sire, in your manifesto, you mention three Council votes that, for all intents and purposes, set you on the path you chose. For the record, what were those?" "They were the vote that granted Colonial Citizenship to the Zohrloch sub-Humans, the vote that recognized Captain Byrne's brat as a dual national, and the vote that recognized the Earth military personnel as being on a 'temporary attached duty' status with the Colonial Forces, and receiving pay equal to their Colonial rank equivalent. All utterly unprecedented in our history." "Three common-sense votes," Solon said. "And you were against all three, correct?" "Yes. I was in the minority for all three votes." Solon scanned the record. "The losing side in ten-to-two votes, in all three cases. There have been council members on losing sides of such lopsided votes before in our history, and yet, none of them embarked on a path of Treason." "Treason is against the State. We acted to preserve our Faith, and thus the State, in the name of God. When God's Laws and those of Man conflict, then God's Law is supreme. In all matters." Galerius said smugly. Solon looked at him quietly. Then he asked, "In all matters?" "Yes." Solon picked up a printout from his desk. It was the death list. "I refer you to Opposition Exhibit Seven, Sire. The death list, which has already been entered into evidence. Names, Sire, of those singled out for 'liquidation.'" Solon's voice rose. "Sire, tell me where in the Book of the Word where it gives sanction to the liquidation of, as you call it, "Enemies of the Faith and State." Galerius said nothing. "You can't tell me, because there is no such passage." Solon glared at him. "And yet, for a man of faith, you signed this list." He shoved it in Galerius' face, his voice rising.. "Is that not your signature, next to that of Sire Elegabalus?" Galerius pushed the paper away. And Solon put it back in his face. "And beneath the signature, there is one other word in your writing. It reads: 'Approved.' Does it not?" Confronted with the truth, Galerius could only nod. "Answer the question, Sire. Is that your writing?" Solon yelled. "Yes," Galerius replied weakly. "Again, for a man who professes to be of faith, you went out and committed an act of Piracy, despite the teachings in the Book of the Word. And in so doing, violated your oath as a Member of the Council to uphold the Colonial Charter of Governance! Which, as pointed out previously, makes you an enemy of all." "We did not commit piracy. All that we did was to take action to defend our Faith. When your faith is humiliated and persecuted, one has to act." Galerius said, his pride coming back. "Persecution?" Solon asked. "Even before the Fall of the Colonies, your movement was considered to be at the fringe. Even so, membership in it was not a criminal offense." "As Elegabalus said, 'persecution is in the eye of the beholder.'" "So, to you, plotting a coup, itself an act of Treason, and the purges to follow, and the imposition of a harsh lifestyle that no one, other than yourselves, wanted, is 'defending the faith?'" "Yes! And I would do so again, if the opportunity presented itself." Galerius said angrily, glaring at the Opposer. Then he stopped. Solon had trapped him, and he knew it. The Opposer grinned. For the first time, it seemed. He mouthed the words. "You are finished," then he told the Tribunal. "Nothing further from this....witness." After he stepped down, Galerius resumed the duty of Protector, but he was clearly crestfallen. "Sire, do you have anything further?" Adama asked. For the first time since the start, Galerius was humbled. "No, Mr. President, the Protection has no further witnesses. And so, the Protection rests its case." Adama nodded, then turned to Solon. "Sire Solon, do you wish to begin your rebuttal? "Mr. President, the Opposition needs time to finalize our rebuttal. A continuance until 0900 tomorrow is requested." "The motion is granted, and this Tribunal stands in recess until 0900 Centars tomorrow." Byrne went down to the Security Office on Constellation. Jen was already there, and Mr. Malik had come with him. "Well, Sergeant, that was a surprise." "Yes, Sir!" Wagner said. "Solon's good. He laid a trap, and Galerius fell right into it." "That he did," Byrne said. "Just like Perry Mason. He'd put some U.S. Attorneys to shame back home. Or the guys in JAG." "Now what?" Jen asked her father. "The rebuttal, though they really don't need one," Byrne said. "Maybe Solon has a surprise or two, but what, I have no idea." Malik nodded. "Perhaps a religious figure, to point out how irreligious the defendants were in actuality?" "Anything's possible," Byrne said, shrugging his shoulders. "Either way, he's finished. And the whole bunch with him." In Wilker's lab that afternoon, Solon was talking with Wilker and Hummer. "You can't be serious." "Yes, Sire, we are." Wilker said. "We'll need a hoverchair, but this can work." "You do realize that this has really never been done before?" Solon asked. "No legal precedent, at all." "Sire, there's a first time for everything. Even in a courtroom," Hummer said with some pride. After all, he'd managed to do what some other techs-and even Wilker himself, had thought was impossible. "All right," Solon decided. "You'll be ready tomorrow morning?" "That we will, Sire," Hummer said. "That we will." Chapter 25: The next morning, precisely at 0900, Adama gaveled the Tribunal back into session. "Sire Solon, is the Opposition ready with its rebuttal at this time?" "Mr. President, we are." He looked around the courtroom, and at the IFB cameras. " And I call as my first witness, the IL Series Cylon, Commander Septimus, to the stand." There was a huge murmur in the public gallery. And Galerius stood up, indignant. "Mr. President! I Protest!" He spluttered. "This, this is unprecedented!" "May I call the Tribunal's attention to the data before you. In six separate occasions in our history, since the start of the Thousand-Yahren War, captured Cylon data has been ruled admissible in Colonial Military Tribunals. Even data from a captured Cylon operative was once presented before a Tribunal. I refer to The Colonies v. Konshu, 1399, The Colonies v. Gyges, et.al, 1567, the..." "I.I..." Galerius rose, utterly furious. "Overruled," said Adama. "You may call your witness, Sire Solon." "Mr. President," Solon said, and then he motioned to an aide. Two other aides ushered in a hoverchair, and in it, sat Septimus, IL-Series Cylon and former BaseShip commander. The aides positioned the hoverchair close to the witness stand, and then left the room. "Commander Septimus, that is your name, correct?" Solon asked. "Yes, that is my name," the IL replied, in the voice of a cultured academician. If he were human, he would be sitting by a fireplace, with a glass of brandy in one hand and a book in the other, lecturing on history or literature. "And you have been informed as to the current status of the Fleet, as well as that of your own?" "Yes, and yes, to both," the IL said. "And that though you are in a status that if you were a biological being, would fall under the title of 'Prisoner of War', you are here without any coercion at all?" Solon asked. "Correct, Sire." "And you have also been informed as to the purpose of your being here?" "That is correct, also, Sire. Though I beg the Tribunal's forgiveness, for I am not completely intact," Septimus responded. "How so?" Master Chief Varica, a member of the Tribunal, asked. The IL pulled back his robe with his one arm. His torso was there, but his other arm,and both legs were still on Hummer's workbench. "I regret my....current state. It is undignified. Hence the hoverchair." "I see," said Varica. "Now, Commander Septimus," Solon went on. "You do retain all of your memories in your data banks, correct?" The IL nodded. "That is correct, Sire. From the moment I was initalized, until now." "Do you recall an attempt at initalization some time ago?" Solon asked. "Yes, something to to with a BaseShip, I believe. However, the exact reason remains unknown to me." "What do you recall next?" "Some thirty-one days, six centars, and four centons ago, some of my systems were partially reactivated." Solon nodded. "What systems, exactly?" "Power, and passive sensors. I was not able to speak in that mode," replied the IL. "Were any other systems activated?" "Yes, my internal data transmitter was also activated, Sire. Everything I saw or heard was transmitted elsewhere." Solon nodded. "Even though you are....incomplete?" "Yes. My cranial unit contains an independent, auxiliary power source, which can be activated in emergencies. This enabled my systems to function, even in a low-activity, passive mode." "I see." Solon turned to the dock. "Do you know where you transmitted to?" "No, Sire," Septimus replied, and Adama noted the smug look on Galerius. What a difference twenty-four centars makes in him, Adama thought. "But I continued to transmit until a few days ago, when my state was discovered by one of your technicians." "And the nature of the data transmitted?" Solon asked. "Much of the data remains obscure to me, though something about an alien ship and translations of documents found was a common feature. However, the matter before the Tribunal was a frequent one." "Could you explain further?" "Yes," the IL said. "Commander Adama and several others were discussing the very matter of this Tribunal; an attempted terroristic overthrow of the Fleet leadership, by parties hostile to him, and their assumption of rule." "I see,"Solon nodded. "Thank you." He turned to Galerius. "Your witness." Galerius stood up, with the same smugness on his face that he'd had on the Tribunal's opening day. "You say you remember all of this?" "That is so," the IL replied. "And yet, you do not know where your data was transmitted." "True," the IL admitted. "My transmitter was in an unfamiliar low-gain pattern. But I do know who it was that reactivated my sensors." "You do?" Galerius asked, and to everyone else present, it seemed as if the traitorous Sire remembered something. "Yes," Septimus replied. "And if you will allow me..." In an eyeblink, a beam of light shot from a port on Septimus' head. It formed into a holographic image, of Wilker's lab, and the sound of a voice. "....and here we go, my silent Cylon. This should do the trick. Yes..." The image flipped, and there was a face. A Human one. "Craiks? Are we receiving? Good." Septimus' head was then set back into position, and the human face was clearly visible. "It was you, Sire Galerius." the IL said, matter of factly. The smugness disappeared from Galerius' face in an instant. To be replaced by the same downcast one from the previous day. "Nothing further." "You may step down," Adama said. "Commander," Septimus said, and the two aides came back and removed the hoverchair. "Sire Solon, do you have additional witnesses?" Adama asked. "Yes, Commander, just one. I would recall Technician Hummer to the stand." Hummer came back into the courtroom, and was reminded that he was still under oath. Then Solon got to the point. "Technician, you were told that it was impossible to reactivate Septimus, correct?" "Yes, Sire, Dr. Wilker told me. But on my own time, I worked on it, or, uh, him, anyway. I like a challenge, especially when someone tells me that something's impossible," the tech said. "And you, sometimes, prove them wrong?" "Yes, Sire. Not all the time, but enough." "I see," Solon said. "And though Septimus was unable to determine where his data was sent, you were able to do so. Is your earlier testimony correct? " "Yes, Sire. I was able to trace the data stream to the Rising Star." Hummer said. Solon then called up the ship's schematics. "Can you show the Tribunal where on the Rising Star?" "Yes," the tech replied. "Here, where there are council offices. Two particular offices, in fact." "And which two offices were they, specifically?" Solon asked, turning his head to the dock. "The offices of Sixtus, Sire Galerius' aide, and Craiks, the aide to Sire Elegabalus." "And you stand by your earlier testimony on this?" "I do, Sire." "Thank you, Technician." Solon turned to Galerius. "Your witness, Sire." Galerius stood. "The Protection has no questions of this witness." "You may step down, Technician." During the recess for lunch, Adama contacted Baltar via the com line in his quarters. "Baltar, were you as surprised as I was?" "To be honest, Adama, I thought I'd have a heart seizure when I saw that IL. I know you have some capable scientists and technicians, but their skill is still a shock at times." Baltar said. "Quite so," Adama admitted. "Even to me at times. I will see to it that Septimus is deactivated once again. He may be useful later on, even if only as a source of information on the inner workings of the Empire. Information that you may not have been aware of." "Understandable," Baltar said. "I have explained that to Moray, and he agrees, that this was a temporary matter, for the Tribunal. There will be no...issues on this end." "Excellent, Baltar." Adama asked. "Has Moray been following the Tribunal?" "He has, Adama , and he is most interested. We, that is, Ayesha and myself, have explained how the Tribunal works, and even though it is obvious that the defendants are guilty, they deserve to have their day in court." "Even so, Baltar," Adama admitted. "Even so." After the recess for lunch, the Tribunal resumed, with Sire Solon ready to present his closing argument: "Mr. President, Members of the Tribunal, People of the Fleet.....The Opposition has shown, beyond any reasonable doubt, that the defendants, led by Sires Galerius and Elegabalus, were involved in an ongoing conspiracy to commit High Treason, Kidnapping, Piracy, Termination, Attempted Termination, Attempted Kidnapping, and the list goes on. Contrary to what the Protection has maintained, membership in the Il Fadim was not a criminal offense, and never has been, nor was there any sanctioned persecution of their movement! To them, being considered a fringe movement, one subject to derision and ridicule, is on a par with State-sanctioned persecution, as was practiced in some of the Colonies in our pre-Unification past. And yet, the defendants decided to carry out acts of kidnapping and terrorism, as a prelude to a coup, and the total overthrow the State, followed by the liquidation of its duly constituted officers and magistrates!. And, in its place, impose a quasi-religious theocracy on the people; a harsh, regimented lifestyle that no one, other than the defendants themselves, desired! "Sire Galerius and the other defendants talk of faith. And yet, where in the Book of the Word does it call for committing kidnapping? Or the liquidation of political or religious enemies, real or imagined? There are no such passages. And by the very book they claim to be defending, they are enemies of all, for having committed an act of Piracy! The defendants were using the trappings of faith to mask their real goal of total power: military, political, social, and yes, religious, Strip away the talk of faith and the devotion to the customs and mores of our ancestors, and that is all one finds. And one also finds a total lack of remorse for their actions! As they freely admit, their only regret is that they were caught. "The Opposition submits to the members of this Tribunal that all of the accused are manifestly guilty as charged, and out of their own mouths!. And though I have my doubts about the death penalty, I also submit that for those accused of the most serious charges, High Treason, Terrorism, and Piracy, that they be receive the ultimate punishment: Death. The State has concluded its summation." Solon glared at the defendants, and returned to the Opposition table. Adama nodded, then asked Galerius, "Sire, do you have a closing argument ready?" "Mr. President, I came prepared to give one. The Protection is ready to present." "Very well, Sire." Adama said. "You may proceed." "Mr. President, and Members of the Tribunal," Galerius began, then he turned to the IFB Camera. If this was his last stand before facing the airlock, he wanted to be as dignified as possible. "Those who stand accused here in the dock face the most serious charges that the State can bring against an individual, and some of us, if convicted, face the most serious punishment that the State can inflict." Aboard the Baseship, Baltar watched with interest. Ayesha was next to him. "When was the death penalty reinstated?" He asked, curious. "Not long after you were marooned, I believe," Ayesha replied. "Though it hasn't been carried out yet. I think one or two convicted of Termination could have been sentenced to death, but I don't know if that was their sentence." She looked at him. "I wasn't paying that much attention at the time, you know." Galerius went on: "All that those of us who stand accused here are guilty of is defending our religious faith. Yes, to those who do not practice the Il Fadim's tenets, our goals and our actions may seem reprehensible. Even backwards. But, my fellow Colonists, we did not seek to overthrow the State. We sought to save it. And in so doing, save our people, and return them to the tenets laid down by our forefathers on the mother world of Kobol, ages and ages ago, before the Great Exodus." "To the State, and indeed, to many of you, a religious lifestyle may seem a bygone relic, something found in the history texts, or in fringe communal groups. Others among you may feel that a religious state means,'outlawing everything fun.' But, those of us who stand here, feel with our being that it is the only hope for our people's survival! It saddens me greatly that our appeals have fallen on deaf ears, and for that, I have only myself to blame. And yet, even now, we believe it. Even now. Those of us who stand here may be doomed. But, the movement, even if it has only a handful of the faithful, will survive. "While it is a certainty that we shall be convicted, and not just in the eyes of the Tribunal, but in the court of Public Opinion, I submit to the Tribunal that we had no intention of harming anyone. I remind you that in the initial seizure of the Delta, no one was killed. And it was our intention to release the ship and its occupants if our demands had been met. Yes, I violated my oath as a member of the Council to uphold the Colonial Charter of Governance, as did my colleague, Sire Elegabalus. And those among us who are in the military violated their military oath. Yet, one's religious calling supersedes such oaths required by the Laws of Man, And if defending one's faith and one's race is High Treason, then we stand guilty as charged. But I ask you: do as the Lords intended, and not as the Law intends. Thank you." "Thank you, Sire," Adama said. He turned to Solon. "Does the Opposition have a rebuttal statement?" Solon rose. "No, Mr. President. The Opposition feels that it has made its case abundantly clear. We have no need for one." "So noted," Adama said. "The Tribunal's members will adjourn to deliberate. I remind you that a two-thirds majority is needed to convict, and that to impose a sentence of death, the vote must be a unanimous one." The members nodded. "We stand in recess until the deliberations are concluded." In Constellation's Crew Lounge, Byrne, Jena, Wagner, Malik, and Mextan were watching. "Even for someone who knows he's lost, he did better than I thought he would," Byrne said. "How long to deliberate?" Wagner asked. "In a big case like this?" Byrne replied. "Who knows?" He looked around. "Several days, at least. Just like our system, there's no time limit for the jury or board." Mextan nodded. He checked the ship's copy of the Colonial Military Justice Manual. "Let's see....here we are. 'Tribunal deliberations may last for a minimum of a centar, but have lasted for a secton on average. Extraordinary cases have had deliberation times for three sectons, with the longest on record at five." "Good Lord!" Jena said. "That long?" "It shouldn't be that long," her father replied. "It's pretty much an open-and-shut case." "The real problem's the death penalty," Metxan said. "Apart from a couple of hired killers, back before we found you, Captain, this is the first time we've had to face it since the Council reinstated capital punishment a yahren or so ago." "So," Malik said. "It is a question of who among the defendants will be executed, then?" "That's about it, Sir," Metxan replied. "Those who survived the Delta seizure are more than likely to face it, I think." "Laban?" Jena asked. "He was charged with Terrorism and Treason, besides the other charges, " Byrne reminded her. "He's eligible, no doubt about it." "Good," Wagner said, and she saw Jen nod. "Even if he isn't executed, someone's going to stick a homemade knife in his neck when word gets around the Prison Barge that a teenage girl was one of his intended victims. In our system, an inmate who preys upon kids is fair game for the others." "An appropriate fate for him, even if not imposed by the State," Malik commented. "What of the councilmen?" "They'll taste hard vacuum, even money bet," Byrne said. "And good riddance." Three days passed, and life in the Fleet was at a standstill. While routine Fleet business went on, with the patrol schedules being maintained, and the mining teams still busy on several asteroids as well as the third planet itself, everyone was wondering when the verdicts would come down. Byrne was reminded of CNN's coverage of several high-profile trials, and the "Verdict Watch" that often followed. He had even explained the media circus that resulted from the O.J. Simpson trials, both criminal and civil. Moray, on the Base Ship, was curious, asking Baltar how long the members could take to decide, and Baltar had to explain that not all the defendants were facing the same charges, and not all were death penalty eligible. The members had to take their time, he explained. On the fourth day, though, right after lunch, the Tribunal members signaled they had verdicts on all of the defendants. It wasn't until 1400, though, that the Tribunal was called back into session. "Members of the Tribunal, do you have verdicts?" "We do, Mr. President," the Overseer, the Century's captain, said. "Please hand the verdict forms to the Bailiff." He did so, and the Bailiff gave the forms to Adama. He, as President of the Tribunal, would read the verdicts. To Byrne, it was similar to what he'd seen on old footage of the Nuremberg Trials of the Nazis in 1946-8: there, the judges had read the verdicts. "Each defendant will rise as his or her name is called, and will hear the verdict and the sentence." Adama said. "There will be no outbursts from either the dock or the public gallery. Is that understood?" He began with Galerius. Guilty on all counts. The sentence on the charges of High Treason, Piracy, and Terrorism were each Death. The other charges all brought a life sentence. For Elegabalus, it was the same. Conviction on all counts. And multiple death sentences. And with Laban: though he'd been caught prior to the Delta seizure, the Treason conviction was enough. And it went on, with all of those who'd survived the Delta Incident being condemned to death. For the rest, the average sentence was twenty yahrens, though several had been convicted on multiple counts and thus received virtual life sentences, if the terms were served consecutively. After the sentences were read, Adama said. "Formal sentencing will be one secton from now. Until then, this Tribunal is in recess." Chapter 26: The day after the verdicts were rendered, Adama was in his office on Galactica, going over ship's business. Even with the Tribunal, there were officer's fitness reports to examine,disciplinary reports to review, both supply and duty rosters to check, and an enlisted promotion board was due to be convened to recommend enlisted crew members for promotion. But the issue of the Il Fadim continued to nag him. Not because they had been convicted, for that was the normal course of justice, but what to do with those who had not been sentenced to death. The Prison Barge was nearly full, and for sure, he did not want to have to convert another ship to that role, with the inevitable fallout, which Lydia would be certain to try and exploit. There must be some alternative. And there was the matter of special elections, for Galerius' and Elegabalus' constituencies to elect their replacements to the Council. Then his door chimed. "Enter." Sires Pelias, Xaviar, and Siress Tinia came in. "Commander," Pelias said. "Sire," Adama said, rising.. "What brings the three of you here?" Pelias nodded. "Commander, I think we have a solution to our problem with the prison population. We can't convert another ship to that of a Prison Barge, for political reasons, and we also can't stuff the ship to overflowing for logistical and humane ones." "Quite so, Sire," Adama said. "Do the three of you have a solution?" "Yes, Commander, we do," Tinia said. "We haven't discussed this with anyone else. Yet. Not Sire Solon, nor Lydia. Though we'll have to bring her and the other Council members in to make it legal." "Certainly, Siress," Adama agreed, gesturing for them to be seated. "So what is it that you propose?" "Commander," Xaviar said. "What we propose is that we maroon those on the Prison Barge who have been sentenced to death, life imprisonment, or sentences that amount to virtual life." "The 'worst of the worst', so to speak, Commander," Pelias added. "Tinia?" Adama asked. She was one of his strongest allies on the Council. "I agree, Commander. There was a feature about this on IFB during the Tribunal. People were wondering why we're expending resources on criminals who are not likely to ever be released, and yet we have them locked away in small cells on the Prison Barge." "I see..." Adama noted. "I actually agree with some of what you're saying. And yes, I do not want to be remembered for having executed two renegade members of the Council itself." "There is something else, Commander," Pelias said. "We can offer the other inmates, say, those serving sentences of greater than ten yahrens, if they wish to go along with the others. If someone thinks that an a chance to start over from scratch on an alien world, is a viable alternative than the Prison Barge, they may very well go along." "Like I did with Baltar," Adama noted. Xaviar nodded, but then spoke up. "And those just convicted? People will say that if we maroon them, they'll be getting what they wanted in the first place. Like what some of the Otori wanted, a while back." "Not necessarily, Xavair," Tinia said. "They'll be outnumbered by the criminal element, one might say considerably, and you may even expect both groups to come to blows after we've left. As Commander Allen said once, 'Let God sort them out.' In any case, they'll be out of our hair for good, and that is something everyone can agree on." "One other thing, Siress," Adama said. "It also prevents those Il Fadim who've been sentenced to death from becoming martyrs to any who have not been caught, or those who would have remained on the Prison Barge, and potentially cause trouble down the line. A mutiny, or other...unpleasantness in their memory, for example." "Quite so, Commander," Tinia agreed. "The next regular Council Session is in two days. We can have this proposal more fully developed, and a proper motion ready to present." "Remember, two new interim members will have to be appointed. I'd hate for their first vote to be on such a serious issue as this," Adama pointed out. "Even with ten members, we still have enough present to conduct business. Eight is the minimum number specified in the Charter of Governance." Pelias said. "The two new members, whoever they are, need not be appointed until after this issue is fully-and finally-resolved." "Very well," Adama decided. "Brief Siress Lydia first, then Sire Solon." He looked at his fellow Council members. "You have my support for this proposal." "Thank you, Commander," Pelias said. The next day, Adama invited Siress Lydia and Chief Opposer Solon to meet him in his quarters. Sire Pelias had informed him that both had been briefed, and though there had been concerns raised, both appeared to support the idea. "Sire, Siress, thank you for coming," "Commander," Lydia said. "I believe I know the reason for this meeting." "As do I," Solon added. "The meeting with Pelias, Xaviar, and Tinia was....interesting, to say the least." Adama motioned for them to sit. "Then let's discuss this further." He motioned to Lydia. "As Council Vice-President, you need to be informed. I take it their briefing was sufficient?" Lydia thought for a moment. An overcrowded Prison Barge, she had to admit, suited her purposes, but she had been surprised that the three had thought of the idea, and not Adama. Or had they? Were they his stooges, and he had come up with the plan? "Yes, it was. Though I was taken aback by this proposal. It's similar to what you did with Baltar, correct?" "It is, Siress," Adama admitted, knowing full well that she knew that, and trusting her even less. "Though I made that decision on my own, as President of the Council, as it pertained to a military matter, and Baltar was a serving convict.. However, in this case, it would be preferable that this matter be voted on by the Council." He motioned to Solon. "Sire, your thoughts?" Solon thought for a centon. "Commander, I do have some concerns. Mainly due to the fact that it appears as if the guilty are escaping punishment." "Sire, think of it as an alternative sentence. And since that it is very likely that the world that these people are placed on is the same one from which we're mining Tylium, right now, it's not exactly a paradise." Adama noted. "A harsh climate, volcanoes, rough and in some cases, inhospitable terrain, and dangerous local fauna would make the Prison Barge seem like a luxury hotel by comparison. But nothing that Humans could not survive, even back in our home quadrant." "Hmm...not exactly Proteus Prison, but still," Solon said. "And how would they be equipped?" "The bare minimum, Sire," Adama said, looking at Lydia as well. "Some rations to get them by while they learn to hunt, some seed for planting crops, and some field shelters. And certainly, no communications equipment, and no energy weapons." "If they wish to hunt, they will have to make their own weapons, then?" Lydia asked. This was like a cheap novel come to life. "Correct. And all of them, whether criminals or Il Fadim, will no longer be of any concern to us." Adama said. "We will wash our hands of them, and that will be that." "An interesting way to look at it, Commander," Lydia said. She realized that she'd been outflanked on this issue, and with a nearly-empty Prison Barge as a result, that was one less issue she could use against Adama, if the opportunity ever came. Damn! "I am concerned, though, Commander," Solon said. "It will appear as if the Il Fadim are getting what they want." "Not necessarily, Sire," Adama said. "Their records will not be expunged, only their sentences are being commuted to marooning. And, as I indicated earlier, they will be outnumbered by the criminal element, and it would be....interesting to see how hardened criminals and religious zealots get along-that is, if they ever do." He leaned forward. "There is one other point I wish to make, Sire." "Yes, Commander?" Solon asked. He was listening intently. "It prevents those of the Il Fadim who've received death sentences from becoming martyrs. Especially to any who have not been revealed, and certainly to those who had not been given death sentences," Adama pointed out. "Something that one must keep in mind, if we do not want future acts of terrorism from these people." "A very understandable concern, Commander," Solon noted. "Yes, though it is....unusual, I am willing to agree to this proposal." "Excellent, Sire," Adama said. "Siress?" "I will not oppose any motion, Commander." Lydia said, nodding. "The best solution that we could come up with, all in all." Yes, he thought this up. What is he up to? "Thanks to both of you," Adama said, shaking their hands. Both rose to leave. "Sire, one moment, please. There is something you need to be informed about. Privately." "Of course, Commander," Solon said. Lydia then took her leave. After she had left, Solon nodded. "Yes, Commander?" "It concerns Ensign Hunley. Her intelligence from the Delta was key to the success of Major Croft's assault. At the upcoming Council session, I intend to pardon her, and expunge her record." Adama said. "Commander...." Solon said. "Sire, there are a hundred-plus people who are still alive, thanks to her. The law is not black and white, as you do know," Adama said. "If Major Croft redeemed himself on Arcta, then she has done the same here." Solon didn't like it, but he realized that Adama had a point. And he couldn't argue with success, either. Hunley's actions had saved lives."I understand, Commander. I would rather that her sentence be commuted to time already served, but..." He paused. "I have no objections." Adama and Solon shook hands. "I am pleased to hear that, Sire. The appropriate paperwork will be readied, and I will forward it to your office, forthwith." "Commander." The next day came the first Council session since the verdicts had come down. Adama gaveled the meeting to order, and then said, "My fellow council members, we open our first meeting since the Tribunal verdicts, and the conviction of two of our own, the former members Galerius and Elegabalus. The first item of business is the appointment of two new members to fill their seats, until special elections can be held. To Galerius' seat, I have appointed Squire Clement, and to fill Elegabalus' seat, Squire Shanbour. Both have accepted the appointments to fill the vacancies, and both have indicated that they wish to assume their seats at the next meeting, for these appointments came too close to this session for them to be fully prepared to assume their new responsibilities as members of the Council." Heads nodded around the table. And everyone there understood that suddenly being appointed to a vacant seat previously held by a now-convicted traitor might bring...difficulties. Even so, the motion carried. Then the next item came, as Pelias raised his hand. "Sire Pelias?" "Mr. President, I have a motion to bring before the Council, which is co-sponsored by Sire Xaviar, Siress Tinia, and myself." "You are recognized to state your proposal, Sire," Adama nodded. "Thank you, Mr. President," Pelias said. "My fellow members, the recent events with the Il Fadim have brought to light a problem that has been a...concern, ever since we fled the Colonies. The Prison Barge is nearly full to capacity, and among the inmates are a number of criminals who are serving sentences tantamount to virtual life, along with others who are serving actual life sentences. With the recent Tribunal's guilty verdicts, their numbers would be joined by the convicted members of the Il Fadim, and the ship would be filled to overflowing. We cannot convert a second ship to serve in this role, nor can we overcrowd the Prison Barge, for humane reasons, as well as supply issues. Another solution must be found, and we, that is, the three of us who have signed this motion, believe we have one." "And that would be?" Siress Eudoxia, one of those Adama originally appointed after the Holocaust, asked. "We maroon those sentenced to death, life imprisonment, or terms tantamount to virtual life." Pelias said. "And the others?" Lydia asked. "We would solicit the other inmates-that is, those serving sentences of ten yahrens or greater, to volunteer," Xaviar said. "In one fell swoop, the 'worst of the worst' are no longer a concern to us, and it prevents the possibility that those Il Fadim who are sentenced to death become martyrs to the others, whether in prison or still free. And also preventing any....unpleasantness as a result. A mutiny on the Prison Barge, escapes, plots in their name, even a repeat of the Delta Incident." Lydia nodded. With that, she knew that her former lover, Sire Antipas, would qualify. Would he take it, though? "And how would they be equipped?" Adama asked, though he knew already. But the question had to be asked for the record. "The basics, Mr. President," Tinia said. "Basic shelter, some rations and seed, basic tools and medikits, but no communications equipment, and certainly no energy weapons." More discussion followed, with some back-and-forth, but the measure was never in any doubt, before it was time to vote. "I suggest that we put the proposal put forward by Sire Pelias to a vote," Adama said. "Those in favor?" Ten hands rose. "Those against?" There were none. "Given that ten members present have voted in favor, and none against, the motion is adopted." Lydia sighed to herself. One more issue that she could have used against Adama had been pulled from under her. Was it like this for Uri, Domra, Montrose, and Antipas? What kind of a game is he playing? "To further business," Adama continued. "As many of you remember, Hunley, a member of the military, was caught up in the unpleasantness of the renegade Otori, and was convicted of her involvement in the affair."He paused as the relevant data on the incident was dumped onto their stations, then went on. "As part of her sentence, along with demotion and forfeiture, she was on a punishment detail, conducting Fleet Resupply checks, and was on the Delta when that ship was seized. She managed to avoid capture, and was able to send back vital information that enabled our Special Forces Team to assault the ship, free the hostages, and eliminate the majority of the terrorists." The members nodded. Even those who had not been part of what had been the "Crisis Group", had been briefed on the incident. Adama then went on. "Without her information, who knows how many lives might have been lost? In any event, she has more than made up for her past misdeeds. While this does not require a formal vote, I wish to make the formal presentation here. I would have preferred a ceremony in the Grand Hall, but, like many of our Warriors, she views herself as a 'quiet professional.'" He nodded to the public gallery, and Hunley stepped forward. Captain Byrne and Sergeant Wagner were there, along with Major Croft, and they had a feeling as to what was coming. And all three also viewed themselves as "quiet professionals." Just doing their jobs. "Ensign Hunley. For services rendered during the Delta Incident, you are the recipient of a full and complete pardon, and your service record is hereby expunged. A restoration of your rank, all pay and allowances forfeited are hereby restored, and you are now able to resume your career with a fresh start." Adama read from the paper. She stepped forward, and Adama presented her with the formal document. She would now be eligible for promotion based on time in grade as soon as she was eligible, and though she'd have to take some refresher training, would be back on flight status. "Thank you, Commander," Hunley replied. "I only did my duty." "There are over a hundred people, as well as Major Croft's team, who feel differently," Adama said. "They are alive because of you. It is we, who should be thanking you, for a job well done." "Sir." She saluted crisply, and Adama returned it. As she left, turning with parade-ground sharpness, the council members, along with those in the gallery, applauded. "The next item is a presentation of our people's highest military award, the Gold Cluster. Again," Adama said, "A ceremony in the Grand Hall would have been preferable for many of us here, but, as with Ensign Hunley, those involved consider themselves also 'quiet professionals.' Corporal Kunis, of our Special Forces Unit, was a member of the assault team that stormed the Delta. During the assault, he threw himself on a live grenade, saving numerous hostages, as well as several of his fellow teammates, but giving his life in the process." "Corporal Kunis had no next of kin in the Fleet. Accordingly, his Commanding Officer, Major Croft, will accept the award on behalf of Corporal Kunis. Major, will you step forward?" Adama said. Croft came into the council chamber, and was presented with the award. It would hang in the Team's Lounge in the SF Area, not only as a reminder of a fallen comrade, but of the sacrifice that a member of the SF Team was expected to make if necessary. After Croft left, there was one final item. "One final item before we adjourn. Prior to the Delta Incident, we had no formal counter-terrorist experience, training, or doctrine," Adama reminded the Council. "Apart from brief descriptions of terrorist events in our history texts, any documents relating to such experience were left behind in the Colonies. Fortunately, we have among us, two people who, by their own experience and training, provided us with the necessary expertise and equipment to enable the Delta Incident to be resolved in a satisfactory manner. I would ask that Captain Kevin Byrne, United States Navy, and Staff Sergeant Lauren Wagner, United States Air Force, please step forward." Byrne and Wagner, both in dress uniform, came forward. "It is with great pleasure that I present to both of you, the Colonial Fleet Commendation Award," Adama said. "It is given to those whose efforts have enabled successful operations to be conducted, yet do not actually go into the field, or, whose valor in combat is worthy, but not worth a higher award." He then presented the award to each, which also had the corresponding ribbon, just as on Earth. (Unknown to either one, Pelias had asked Jena to find out if their country allowed foreign awards to be worn, and her father, not knowing the reason, had said 'yes,') "Captain, Sergeant, your work enabled the Delta Incident to be brought to a successful conclusion. And though you may feel that the two of you were simply doing your jobs, I feel differently, and other members of the Council do as well." Both Byrne and Wagner came to attention, and Adama pinned the medals on both of them. After they saluted, Adama asked the Council to express its thanks, and a round of applause was the result. There being no further business, Adama asked if there were any other matters that a member wished to bring up. There being none, the meeting was adjourned. Chapter 27: The day of formal sentencing had come, and the Tribunal chamber was packed, as usual. Across the Fleet, eyes, organic and otherwise, were glued to the closest monitor. Before the formal sentences were pronounced, each of those convicted would be given the opportunity to give a statement, before receiving their punishment. The defendants were all present, of course, and IFB was broadcasting the proceedings. Precisely at 0900, Adama gaveled the Tribunal to order, and asked, "Is the Opposition ready?" "We are, Mr. President," Solon said. "And is the Protection ready?" "The Protection is ready, Mr. President," Sire Galerius said resignedly. Adama nodded. "Very well. Do you have a statement to read, Sire? Either on behalf of all the defendants, or on your own behalf?" "Mr. President," Galerius said, "I defer to the Opposition at present. But yes, I do have some remarks to give prior to sentencing." "Sire Solon?" Solon rose. "Mr. President, Members of the Tribunal, Fellow Colonists," he began. "We are here to formally pronounce sentence upon those who stand convicted of the worst acts of Treason to take place since our flight from the Colonies, and, also, of Terrorism: a term that we had thought had been consigned to the past, and yet, which reared its ugly head with this incident. I submit to you, Mr. President, those convicted all be given sentences that will ensure not only will those convicted never endanger society again, but that no one, at least in either our lifetimes, or our children's or grandchildren's ever consider such a dangerous course of action." "Thank you, Sire." Adama nodded. "Sire Galerius?" "Mr. President, and members of the Tribunal," Galerius began. He turned and faced not only the public gallery, but the IFB Camera,, ever the media hound, "and those watching. Those of us here all stand convicted of the most serious crimes against the State, and some of us, indeed, face the most severe punishment the State can inflict upon an individual." On the Base Ship, Ayesha was watching, and she was certain Baltar was flinching. "Yes, we stand convicted of High Treason, Terrorism, Piracy, Conspiracy, and a host of other offenses, all of them serious enough in their own right. And yet, we embarked on the course that we did in order to save our people, not destroy them, and return them to the glory that was once theirs on the Mother World of Kobol, ages ago. Yes, most, if not all, off you may have viewed our goals with revulsion. And shown contempt for one who would impose his will on everyone else, but I submit that it was for our own good! A return to the tenets laid down by our forefathers, and a lifestyle that they themselves practiced, is what our people need in this difficult time." He turned to Adama. "Mr. President, if death is the punishment so inflicted upon certain of my co-defendants, followers of Sherrock, as well as myself, that is your decision. But God alone can judge us or our actions," Galerius said, sitting down. "Sire," Adama said. "So noted for the record. Sire Galerius, will you please rise?" Galerius knew what was coming. If he was going to the airlock, he wanted to be dignified, and show these....ovines how a man devoted to the Faith met his end. "Sire Galerius, the Tribunal has sentenced you to death for High Treason, Piracy, and Terrorism," Adama began. "I hereby sentence you to death." Galerius stood tall. "However. However, an alternative sentence has been voted upon by the Council. Your death sentence is formally commuted. To marooning on the planet below." A hush fell in the chamber. Galerius was clearly caught off guard by the development, as were his co-defendants. "Do you have anything to say?" Adama asked. "Mr. President.....No, I accept the punishment." Galerius said. Adama nodded, "Sire Elegabalus." The ex-councilman rose. "Sire Elegabalus, the Tribunal has sentenced you to death for High Treason, Piracy, and Terrorism. I hereby sentence you to death, sentence to be commuted to marooning." And so it went on, with Laban, Bevan, Sixtus, and the others. When it was all done, Adama finished, "This Tribunal is formally adjourned." The following day, the other inmates, those on the Prison Barge who were affected by the "Marooning Ordnance," were informed. Those serving sentences greater than ten yahrens were given the chance to volunteer, even though for all, their records were not being cleared. Most were glad to get out of the Prison Barge, and take their chances on an alien planet. Some were downright eager. Old scores had developed among the inmates, and some were looking for a chance to settle those. One, convicted of a pair of brutal pre-Holocaust Terminations, said, "I'll do it. They marooned Baltar, and look where he wound up!" Later that afternoon, Adama received the list of all who were being marooned, and it totaled about 70% of those on the Prison Barge, not including the Il Fadim. To his surprise, an old council adversary, one who he had considered a threat, was on it. He was eligible to volunteer, though. Antipas. On the face of it, it shouldn't have been a surprise, but given that he was serving a twenty-yahren sentence, the chance to get off the Prison Barge and take his chances on a harsh alien world no doubt appealed to the young Sire. Not to mention a chance to get what had eluded him before: political power. "Assuming they even decide to form a government," Adama remarked to Sire Solon when Solon gave him the list. Two days later, the mining operations were completed, and the mining engineers began closing down and sterilizing the mine sites. The Fleet's mineral stores were topped up, with the foundry ship having enough to fill its needs for quite some time, while the Tylium that had been found ensured their fuel bunkers were all topped up. Before departure, those who were being marooned were shuttled down to the surface, in an area where game was plentiful, with several nearby lakes and rivers, enough land for farming-assuming anyone was in the mood, though the lizard-type creatures were a potential danger. Not to mention other nasty local fauna, and even some plants, if touched, secreted a sap that produced some nasty blisters. By and large, though, the world could support the settlement, if the "settlers" put their backs into it. "Kinda like Australia was, when it got going," Allen remarked to his wife. Both were watching from the Bridge of the Adelade. "When they dumped my ancestors off at Botany Bay, all we had was hard scrabble and no promises. But if they have the backs fer it..." "Perhaps something better might develop here," Kalysha said. Byrne and Wagner were aboard Galactica, watching as the Il Fadim prisoners were being loaded into a shuttle for their final trip in Alpha Bay. Adama, Pelias, Sire Solon, Croft, and a number of others were there as well. As Galerius was being led to the shuttle, Byrne wanted a word. "Sire." "What do you want, Captain?" Galerius hissed. "Upset that you won't see me shoved into an airlock?" "A little, but I'm satisfied knowing that you won't be bothering anyone else ever again. I may not see you floating away from this ship, but I'll sleep well, knowing that you-and that sick bastard Laban-won't threaten anybody ever again." Byrne said. "Infidel defiler," Galerius said, trying to summon up some bravado. "You are.." "Still spouting that garbage?" Byrne said. "Keep it up, Sire, and someone's going to stick a spear through that big mouth of yours before you know what hit you." "What?" "You sent Laban after my daughter. Word's gotten around, so I hear, about both of you. And a few of the other cons were drooling at the thought of getting their hands on both of you-and Elegabalus, too," Byrne told the ex-councilman with an evil grin. "Nobody, and I mean nobody, puts a hand on my daughter, you cockroach.." "They wouldn't dare. We are-" "Save that for them," Byrne advised, jerking his head in the direction of some of the other cons. "But they won't care. Religious zealots against hardened criminals-murderers, robbers, pirates, perverts, and so on? Oh, they'll take care of the sex offenders among them before the secton's out. Then they'll come for you. I may not see it, but I'll be glad knowing your days are numbered." "What are you saying?" Galerius asked, turning pale. "Your preaching won't work. One final piece of advice: learn how to make a spear, Sire. Learn fast. You'll need it." Byrne said. Then he turned and walked back to Adama. While Byrne was talking to Galerius, Wagner saw Laban off. He sneered at her, even in shackles. "Infidel whore!" "If I were you, I'd knock off the holier-than-thou drivel," Wagner told him. "Where you're going, the cons won't care how zealous you are with that Il Fadim nonsense." "What do you mean?" Laban asked. Fear seemed to finally seeping into his voice. "Simple: word's gotten around about you, I hear." Wagner said. She glanced at some of the other cons. And they were glaring at Laban. She leaned close, voice lowered. "And when they found out one of your intended victims was a teenage girl, well....there's several of them who'd like to have a word with you about that. One's a former wrestler, I heard. Strangled several people to get here. And he's strong enough to probably break you in half." "They wouldn't dare." Press, the onetime hired killer for Sire Uri and Sire Antipas, looked back at Laban. Unkindly. As if breaking Laban in two was something to look forward to. "All of your zealotry isn't going to help if someone sticks a homemade knife or spear into that skull of yours," Wagner told him. "If I were you, I'd learn how to make one for myself. Fast. They've put you in along with your own sex offenders, and you're all the lowest of the low, if you get the idea." He glared at her. And the hate was still in his eyes, she could see. "One of the faithful?" He surveyed the cons, recognizing some. Thieves, murderers, cutthroats, each and every one. "They are apostates, just as Adama and his lackeys are." " As far as they're concerned, you're a 'dead man walking', tough guy" Wagner smiled grimly. "And your time's almost up. Even if they don't get you, one of those lizard-type creatures will. Keep that in mind." For the first time, she saw fear come into his eyes. The thought of his becoming a meal to a ravenous beast had never occurred to him. "You mean..." "Whether it's some con sticking a homemade spear in your chest when you're not careful,, or some lizard tearing you in half, you're just as dead. And good riddance," Wagner said as the guard came to push Laban into the shuttle. Across the bay, one other meeting was taking place. Lydia was there also, seeing Antipas off. "Any regrets?" "My only regret, you ambitious bitch, was getting into bed with you in the first place." her former colleague growled. "Self-absorbed pile of mong!" "If it's any consolation, I feel the same way, now." Lydia shot back. "And you're Vice-President," Antipas sneered. "I have some friends, now, and on the new world, I do plan on gaining the power that eluded me." "Assuming the convicts decide to form a government," she observed. "Whoever's left standing, that is." "We've talked about it. Even murderers need to find a way to survive." "I can see it now," she laughed. "The high and mighty Sire Antipas, ruler and savior of a bunch of murderous convicts and religious zealots. Write in the future, and let us know how the Fourteenth Colony's doing. If any of you are still alive." A guard came. "Get on the shuttle....Sire." With that, Antipas turned, and without a further word, walked to the craft. He glared at Adama and Pelias, then got into the shuttle. "All I can say, Commander, is 'good riddance" to bad rubbish," Pelias commented, as a supply pallet was loaded aboard a shuttle. The 'colonists' would only have the basics: tools for farming and building, seed for crops, easily erectable military huts for shelter, rations for a while to get started, even cages with a few breeding pairs of small animals. There would be, though, no weapons, and no communications gear of any sort. "If anyone picks up a signal," Adama had told Galerius, "you could be located and wiped out. You'll live as our forefathers did at first settlement. You'll have every chance they did." "I wonder, Commander, if it is too merciful," Siress Tinia ventured. "Perhaps, Tinia, perhaps. Still, we would have likely had to come to this juncture sooner or later. At least the world is.....somewhat habitable." Adama said. "Indeed," Pelias said. "Commander Allen commented that this world is our 'Australia', if you recall." Adama nodded. He recalled what Allen had told him about Australia's origins as a 'dumping ground', for British convicts. Political malcontents, petty criminals, murderers and cutthroats. An apt analogy. "Perhaps, just perhaps, they will build their own civilization in time. And even if the Cylons ever do come this way, they'll be so primitive that any base ship will pass them by." Byrne overheard that. "Or they'll be used for target practice." Adama nodded. "Your feelings about them are...understandable, Captain." He paused. "Still, in a most...unusual way, it is one more human outpost, and hopefully, in time, the more...stable of them will build a permanent settlement, which will grow into a civilization." The shuttles launched, one by one, and after several centars, returned to the Galactica. Castor had led the Security detail down to the planet, and he reported back to Adama on the Bridge. "No problems, Commander. Just the chance to get some fresh air, and starting over, they were glad to get off. A lot of 'em even helped unload the gear, Sir." "How did they all get along?" Adama asked. "No hostility-yet," Castor replied. "But once the shuttles were out of sight, who knows?" Adama nodded. "Thank you for your report, Lieutenant." "Sir." "Commander," Tigh reported. "Our final patrol returns in a centar. Once they land, our business here is completed." Adama nodded. At the appointed time, the patrol returned. "It's time, Commander." "Very well, Tigh. Signal the Fleet: Break orbit, and set course for Earth." "Commander." With that, the Colonial Fleet resumed the course that would, some day, lead it to Earth. Fleeing the Cylon tyranny, the last battlestar, Galactica, leads a rag-tag fugitive fleet on a lonely quest: A shining planet, known as Earth. Epilogue: Alone. Quiet. Unregarded. Once more, the planet, nameless, where now a small Human settlement had been placed, returned to its former obscurity. Circling around its sun, as it had since the beginning. Below, the dregs of Colonial Society, grudgingly, but slowly, set to the business of survival, oblivious to what was happening above. In orbit, a Zykonian Exploratory Cruiser sat. The cruiser began mapping the planet, and noted the small camp on the surface. And the Zykonians were curious. Though they were well outside their own sphere of influence, their own exploratory program was going out where they could, finding areas not under Ziklagi, Malaabian, or anyone else's control-actual or claimed. This particular sector was one such area. And the Zykonian commander, who had been briefed to possibly encounter the Colonial Fleet while on his voyage, had arrived undetected just as the Fleet had left orbit. Now, why had the Colonials left a settlement here? On this world, of all places? By the gods, his own people wouldn't have considered this world for a colony. Since he had no orders concerning this possibility, he decided to stay a while. And sent a message back to his home base, requesting further orders. A secton later in Colonial time usage, he received a reply from home base. The system and its new inhabitants was to be left alone. Though a satellite would be left in orbit to monitor the world, and relay information back, no further action was to be taken. There would be time enough later on to make contact, if the Zykonian Command felt it necessary. Until then, the system would be under quarantine. The cruiser commander looked at his orders, deployed a monitoring satellite, then left the system, to investigate several more star systems on his circuit of the sector.