GALACTICA 1984: THE RETURN OF CAIN
                          by
                     Eric J. Paddon

       Based On Characters Created By Glen A. Larson 

         This is a work of fan-fiction and is not
        intended to infringe on any copyright laws.

                      Chapter One

   As Adama went over the report that Troy had given him, his mood was
anything but upbeat.  Ordinarily, the return of his grandson to the
Galactica for periodic debriefing meant a happy occasion, but this time
was different.
   "You're absolutely sure then," he finally set the report down.
   Troy nodded, "Yes sir, the shuttle pilot was quite explicit.  There's
no doubt that Xavier is back somewhere in the Fleet."
   Adama grimly shook his head, "The man's brilliant.  All the time, he
hides out near the Alanzo farm where the children we sent are staying on
Earth, just waiting for a shuttle to arrive to take some of them back or
handle some kind of emergency.  Then he stows away, and after the
children are delivered to their ships, he knocks out the shuttle pilot
and takes it to wherever he ended up."
   "He played it right down to the last detail," Troy said, "The shuttle
was programmed to take off again, just two centons after he landed it. 
With shuttles going in and out everywhere in the Fleet, there's no way of
knowing what ship he got off on."
   "Thank the Lords your patrol found the shuttle drifting in space, or
the pilot would be dead."
   "I still blame myself, Commander," his grandson's voice failed to
conceal the shame he felt, "Dillon and I had traced Xavier to within ten
miles of the farm, and once we heard that the shuttle was coming, we
should have realized his plan and been waiting for him."
   "Don't blame yourself," Adama tried to sound reassuring, but knew that
it couldn't assuage Troy's feelings.  The inability to apprehend the
renegade councilman who dreamed of using time travel as a means of
creating an Earth Empire that could defeat the Cylons, had long been a
source of never-ending frustration to Troy.
   "Why do you suppose he came back to the Fleet?" the commander then
changed the subject.
   "I guess he figured that since there was no way of getting ahold of
one of our hidden vipers on Earth, then the safest thing to do was get
back to the Fleet first and try for another opportunity at time travel
from here.  Somehow, at some point, he'll try to get to the Galactica and
make another attempt."
   "Unfortunately, we don't have enough security to search every ship in
the Fleet," Adama said, "All we can do for now is increase the guard in
the launch bays and have more thorough inspections of every shuttle that
lands here."
   "I have a feeling he's already got a plan for that," Troy sounded
glum, "The way his mind works, I think it will be sooner rather than
later."
   The intercom chimed and Adama answered it, "Yes?"
   "Commander," Colonel Boomer's voice was trembling, "Commander
we've..." he stopped and sounded too exhilarated to continue.
   "Yes, Boomer?" Adama sounded slightly impatient.
   Boomer cleared his throat, "Commander, we've just received a message. 
A message on Fleet Comline Alpha frequency."
   Adama froze.  Troy frowned slightly, since he did not understand the
significance of what Boomer had said.
   "Colonel," the commander finally summoned the strength to speak,
slowly and deliberately, "Did this message come from the only person who
could have sent it?"
   "It did, sir," Boomer's jubilation took over, "I spoke to him
personally.  He requests landing clearance for his shuttle."
   "He has it!" Adama blurted with equal jubilation, "I'm on my way to
the landing bay."
   He shut off the intercom and quickly rose from his chair.
   "Grandfather," Troy was still frowning, "What's this all about?"
   Adama stopped halfway to the door and smiled at his grandson, "Troy,"
he said, "Fleet Comline Alpha is a frequency used between two
battlestars."
   Troy's mouth fell open as he suddenly realized what it all meant.
   "You mean it's---"
   "Yes," Adama nodded vigorously, "He's back from the dead again."


   Approximately two dozen warriors had gathered in the landing bay as
they watched the old and battered shuttle come to a stop.  Adama felt as
anxious as a young cadet as the door opened and he waited for the man
inside to emerge.
   When he did, there was no mistaking him.  After thirty yahrens, the
light brown hair had turned white, the eyes were lined and the combat
uniform hung from a slightly looser frame.  But the iron jaw, the
unmistakable walk and the ever-present swagger stick were all still
there.
   Adama came up to him and threw his arms around him in a fraternal
embrace.
   "You old madacca," Commander Cain smiled, "I knew you'd still be
alive."
   "And I, you," Adama returned it.
   The other warriors then erupted in applause as the commanders of the
Battlestars Galactica and Pegasus left the launch bay together.


   "There's so much to say after thirty yahrens," Cain sighed as he and
Adama shared a bottle of ambrosia in the Galactica commander's quarters,
"I scarcely know where to begin."
   "You can start by telling me what happened after you took out those
two basestars at Gomorrah."
   The man known as the Juggernaut chuckled, "Ah yes.  Well, there wasn't
much to that.  The instant I had their destruction confirmed, I
immediately went to emergency light speed.  I imagine I was light years
away before the explosions from those two ships died down."
   "It was my understanding that you were trying to go specifically for
Baltar's ship, but you left him untouched."
   "A last micron change of plans," Cain said, "It occurred to me as I
was headed in, that eliminating the two ships would leave Baltar as the
only combat ready basestar in the quadrant.  Knowing his penchant for
cowardice, that meant you and your Fleet would be safe for the
short-term.  At the same time, if I were to disappear quickly from the
scene, some new opportunities would be presented for myself."
   "So you went into hiding," Adama smiled slightly, since he knew his
old friend would immediately take issue with his choice of words.
   "Not hiding, Adama," Cain didn't disappoint him, "I went as far back
into Cylon space as I could.  I figured that the only way I could
guarantee long-term security for you and your people was to raise as much
havoc as I could with them, and keep those tinheads distracted."
   "With what?" Adama asked, "Most of your vipers were transferred to me
before the battle, and from what my son told me later, you used up all of
your missiles against the two basestars."
   "Oh I still had a sizable reserve contingent," Cain said, "And
replenishing my ammunition was no trouble.  There were quite a few
settlements and Cylon supply depots to give us all that we needed," he
set his glass down, "And after thirty yahrens, I've successfully
destroyed four additional Cylon basestars."
   "Congratulations," the Galactica commander's tone was complimentary,
"You haven't lost your touch.  Even if you did make one erroneous
assumption after leaving us."
   "Oh?" the Juggernaut raised an eyebrow, "Which wrong assumption was
that?"
   "You guessed wrong about Baltar.  Two days after you left, he launched
one final attack using solonite packed fighters.  We took two major hits
and barely survived.  I took some serious injuries myself in that
battle."
   Cain shook his head in amazement, "I never thought Baltar was capable
of something as low as that.  If I ever got my hands on him, then he'd
learn something new about what it means to subfer."
   Adama didn't respond to that.  He decided that now was probably not a
good time to tell Cain about what had happened to Baltar next, which had
seen the human traitor captured and imprisoned, but subsequently released
one yahren later on an isolated planet after giving Adama intelligence to
help destroy a lone basestar that had been encountered.  There had been
no indication in the thirty yahrens since that Baltar had ever been
rescued, but it wouldn't have surprised Adama if he'd learned that the
traitor was back among his Cylon friends.
   "It's clear you haven't lost your touch either," Cain continued, "The
fact that you've kept this Fleet together after all this time is
testimony of that."
   "We've been through a lot," Adama admitted, "But the Lords have given
us their protection."
   The Juggernaut then came over and sat down across from Adama, "Colonel
Boomer mentioned to me that you've in fact found Earth."
   "Yes," Adama nodded, "A little more than four yahrens ago."
   "Well how come you haven't settled?"
   He let out a sigh, "Earth...was not exactly what I'd been hoping for. 
In terms of our development, they're only at the fourth or fifth
millennia."
   Cain set his glass down and his expression suddenly became grave,
"That far back?"
   "Yes," Adama slightly lowered his head, "I don't know why Earth has
developed this slowly.  And I also don't know why they lost all their
connections to our civilization.  But we're in a situation where landing
on Earth would bring on a Cylon attack that would destroy all that's left
of human civilization."
   "How so?"
   "The Cylons have been tracking us for the last ten yahrens.  They
decided a long time ago not to launch a massive attack on us because they
want us to lead them to Earth.  That's why we've kept ourselves hidden
from Earth and have been travelling in a circuitous route through space."
   The Juggernaut put his hand to his chin to reflect for a moment, "That
would explain it, then."
   "Explain what?"
   "About two sectans ago, I came near a task force of four Cylon
basestars," he said, "There was no way they couldn't have missed me on
their scanners, but they did nothing.  They let me go right through their
lines, and make my way safely to you."
   "They're not anxious to fight...yet."
   "Evidently not," Cain nodded, "Have you been doing anything to make
conditions better on Earth?"
   "Right now, we're doing the maximum that's possible," Adama said, "We
have support teams on Earth working quietly with some select members of
their scientific community, giving them new technologies that will
accelerate the timetable on their technological development."
   "How long is all that going to take?"
   "Hard to say," Adama sighed, "The only thing I know for sure is that
we've reduced the timetable from thousands of yahrens to hundreds of
yahrens."
   "I see," Cain's voice trailed off.  Clearly, he wasn't impressed by
that information. "There's no way of accelerating the timetable?"
   "Not without causing enormous damage to Earth," Adama was firm, "The
state of affairs make a more direct appearance, even while keeping the
Cylons away, totally out-of-the-question."
   The Pegasus commander dimly nodded and lowered his head.
   "Adama," his voice was delicate, "I've put this next question off as
long as I possibly can, but...."
   As Cain tried to find the right words, Adama suddenly stiffened and
felt a sick tension come over him.  He knew exactly what Cain was going
to ask, and this was a question he'd hoped he'd never have to answer.
   Cain finally looked him in the eye, "Is my daughter still alive?"
   An uncomfortable expression cane over Adama's face.  He rose and
calmly went over to the porthole, keeping his arms folded and his back to
Cain.
   The Juggernaut bit his lip and could feel the dread rising inside him.
   "I'm sorry, Cain," Adama finally spoke, but kept his back to him,
"Sheba died a little more than fifteen yahrens ago."
   Cain lowered his head and tried to keep the emotions he was feeling
under control.  Adama turned around and saw that his friend was still
biting his lip and wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
   "How did it happen?" the Juggernaut barely got his question out.
   "The most terrible combat engagement we've faced in the last thirty
yahrens," Adama said, "We lost quite a few of our best pilots back then. 
For what it's worth, my son Apollo was lost during that time as well."
   "I'm sorry," he murmured and then let out a long sigh of regret, "I
suppose I should have expected all this as a possibility, but...."
   "I know," the Galactica commander came over and put his hand on his
friend's shoulder, "I know what it's like to outlive not just one, but
three children.  It's the worst feeling possible."      "Yeah," Cain's
voice was a faint whisper.  He then awkwardly cleared his throat and
looked up, "Tell me Adama, was she at least having a good life
before...it happened?"
   Adama's voice regained some firmness, "I made a special point of
making Sheba a part of my family when you disappeared, and believe me she
appreciated it."
   "I'm glad of that," Cain smiled weakly, "I knew I could trust you to
do that for her, Adama.  Thank you."
   "As a matter of fact," Adama went on, "She and my son Apollo became
quite drawn to each other.  They had..." he stopped and let out a sigh of
regret, "They had made plans to become sealed  just before he was
killed."
   A wry edge etched the corner of Cain's weak smile as he contemplated
that piece of information.
   "My daughter and your son?" he let out an equally weak chuckle,
"That's an interesting thought.  You and I, bound together by ties of
blood and the same grandchildren."
   Adama felt himself chuckle as well in spite of the sadness of the
idea, "Yes, it....would have been interesting."
   "From what I saw of him, Apollo was a good warrior and a good man,"
Cain said, "I'm sorry the sealing never took place."
   "I am, too," the Galactica commander admitted, "I'd come to think of
Sheba the same way I felt about my own daughter."
   Cain got to his feet and abruptly straightened himself, "Well I
suppose the only thing to do is move ahead," his voice regained some of
its old timbre, "Adama, if you don't mind I'd like to enjoy some more
hospitality aboard the Galactica for the next few centars, and when
that's done, your senior officers and mine can coordinate all of the
intelligence we've gathered."
   "Of course," Adama nodded, "Help yourself to whatever's on board,
precious little that it is."
   With a motion of his swagger stick, the Juggernaut turned and
departed.
   Once he was alone, Adama let out a sad sigh of shame and regret.
   "Forgive me, my old friend," he said, "Forgive me."


   The passenger ship Antares was a battered craft that had begun it's
life fifty yahrens ago as a luxury ship for interplanetary travel between
the inner and outer colonies of the twelve worlds.  When the Exodus of
humanity from the colonies had begun, more than thirty yahrens ago, the
Antares was pressed into service to become a passenger ship for more than
twice its normal accommodation.  Now, over 500 people lived in conditions
that were fair at best, but on most given days were substandard.
   Inside the ship's dining area, several people were gathered in
conversation.  Talking about mundane matters of the Triad matches aboard
the Rising Star, and the neverending complaints over the food
distribution problem.
   To one side next to the group, another man sat in bored silence.  His
clothes seemed slightly ill-fitting, but that was because he had hastily
stolen them from a storage locker in the shuttle he'd commandeered.
   No one at the table realized that the man next to them was in fact,
the most wanted fugitive in the Fleet.  The renegade member of the
Council of Twelve, Xavier.
   Xavier had enjoyed a distinguished military career for twenty yahrens,
emerging as one of the heroes of the tragic battle with the Cylons
fifteen yahrens earlier that had seen such legendary warriors as Jolly,
Bojay, Greenbean and then Apollo go to their deaths.  His military
success had catapulted him to a seat on the Council of Twelve, and he'd
been no less an energetic member there.
   The discovery of Earth though, had set Xavier down the path that led
to his current status of disgrace and fugitive.  Angry over Adama's
increased reliance on the advice of the boy mental genius Dr. Zee, and
frustrated by the fact that Earth needed hundreds of yahrens to develop
the technology needed to fight the Cylons, Xavier had taken matters into
his own hands.  Taking advantage of a new technique that would enable a
viper to travel backward in time, Xavier decided to journey into Earth's
past and introduce advanced technologies that would in his mind, change
history for the better and make Earth capable of defeating the Cylons.
   But Xavier, in his zeal to create an Empire had failed to recognize
the nature of the regime he had chosen to assist, that of Adolf Hitler's
Nazi Germany, nor had he recognized the potential danger that changing
history posed not just to the people of Earth, but to all those in the
Fleet.  The Galactica warriors Captain Troy and Lieutenant Dillon,
assisted by their friend on Earth, Jamie Hamilton, had gone back and been
able to thwart Xavier's plan, but in the four years since, Xavier had
managed to hide out on Earth and elude capture.
   The fact that the mental genius Dr. Zee had disappeared and that Adama
had reasserted his old position of firm authority, mattered little to
Xavier.  Turning himself in was not a viable option for him.  In
absentia, the Council of Twelve had voted to expel him from the body and
convict him on charges of high treason, so the instant he was captured
would mean a trip to the prison barge for the rest of his life.
   And so, Xavier hid on Earth trying to come up with new plans for
creating an Earth Empire.  But four years of successful eluding had also
brought four years of frustration as well.  And so, he had decided to
return to the Fleet and see if he could find a better way while in hiding
amongst his own people.
   For now, he was keeping as low a profile as he possibly could before
he began exploring potential options from within the Fleet.
   "...But I'm telling you, that liar Carmichael who runs the fracking
agro ship, told me personally that he'd see to it that some Piscean spice
leaves would be in our next shipment," one of the men at the table was
saying.
   "So he's a fracking liar who specializes in feeding you with
felgercarb everytime you ask him," another man absently picked at his
unappetizing meal, "You shouldn't keep raising our hopes then."
   Xavier rolled his eyes as he then shifted his gaze to the monitor
which carried the feed of the IFB.  A triad match on the Rising Star was
being broadcast at that particular moment.
   Just then, the image of the triad match was replaced by the IFB logo.
   "...Look, I like to think that not everyone of these bureaucrats is a
liar, so if one of them promises...", the first man was saying.
   "Quiet," Xavier spoke for the first time and held up a hand,
"Something's happened."
   The other men turned around and looked at the screen where the excited
face of the lead IFB anchor now appeared.
   "...And all throughout the Fleet, the word is spreading like a
sunburst with the news that the Battlestar Pegasus, thirty yahrens after
her disappearance at the battle of Gomorrah, has at last returned.  And
only centars ago, there was jubilation in the Galactica's landing bay as
a shuttle from the Pegasus arrived, carrying with it, the legendary
Commander Cain."
   The picture dissolved to a recorded scene of Cain getting off the
shuttle and embracing Adama.
   Excited murmurs erupted from the others gathered around the table. 
Xavier remained silent, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.
   "Right now, the question of what Commander Cain's return will mean for
the future of our people remains unknown.  At this time, he and Commander
Adama are in close consultation aboard the Galactica, and will no doubt
be conferring later with the Council of Twelve."
   "It's incredible," the man next to Xavier said, "Absolutely
incredible."
   But Xavier was oblivious to him and all the others at the table. 
Right now, some new ideas were going through his head.
   He had a feeling he'd just found a way out of the corner he'd
temporarily painted himself into.

                      Chapter Two

   "Will you be needing me for anything else, Doctor?" the young med-tech
asked with a slightly nervous edge.
   The Galactica's Chief Medical Officer let out a wistful sigh.  Why did
these med-techs always sound so intimidated?  Do I put more fear inside
them than I ever realized?
   "No Lycus, that will be all."
   The med-tech nodded and then bid a hasty retreat from the Life
Station, leaving the Chief Medical Officer to ponder the question even
further.
   Is it because I'm a woman, and they're not used to the idea of women
doctors, let alone seeing one in charge of the whole medical operation
for the entire Fleet?
   Salik warned her there'd be days like this, she thought as she brushed
back a lock of blonde hair that in the last few yahrens had started to
turn slightly grayish and silvery.  Medicine was one field of Colonial
Science where women had never fully advanced into positions of top
leadership before the Holocaust.  But ever since Salik had taken her
under his wing so long ago and made her a med-tech, he'd always been
convinced that she could make the transition from med-tech to physician,
and even take over the whole operation one day.
   That day had come twenty yahrens ago, when Salik died not as the
result of a Cylon attack, but of one obsessed madman's desire for
revenge.  Many yahrens earlier, when Salik had been Chief of the Canceran
Medical Institute, he had been forced to obtain a blood sample from a
dying woman patient in order to study the effects of an experimental
vaccine.  It had meant keeping her alive a sectan longer than her
disease-ridden body should have been allowed to linger, extending a
period of terrible pain and suffering.  The end result had been worth it
though, as Salik's last experiment on the woman had resulted in the
successful perfection of a new vaccine that ultimately eliminated the
disease from the colonies.  But the sight of that one woman's extended
suffering had been too much for her grieving husband's psyche.  And so,
many yahrens later, when fate had brought Salik and the man together
again aboard the Rising Star at a triad match, the revenge-minded husband
had slipped the Chief Medical Officer a poisonous injection that caused
Salik, like the man's wife, to linger in terrible pain for almost a
sectan before the merciful release of death finally came.
   And with that, as per Salik's last instructions, his favorite
med-tech, whom he had loved as if she were his own daughter, was thrust
into a new position of leadership for the people of the Fleet.  A strange
turnaround for a woman who only ten yahrens before, belonged to an
entirely different profession of socialator.
   At no time did the responsibilities of the job ever threaten to
overwhelm her.  Just as Salik had predicted long ago, she had adapted to
them with ease.  And within several yahrens of becoming Chief Medical
Officer, she found herself even more grateful for the magnitude of her
duties.  The man she had loved and hoped to become sealed to for so long,
had disappeared forever from her life, and her only fallback to cover her
grief was to plunge herself even further into her work.  In the immediate
yahrens after that tragedy, it had been the only thing that had kept her
sanity. 
   But she had long ago come to terms with her lover's disappearance and
probable death.  Just as she had also been forced to do for another man
she had once loved during the days of her earlier profession.
   The thought that any reminder of either of those two men would ever
come back into her life one day, was the furthest thing from her mind as
she idly consulted a chart listing the full inventory of medical supplies
in the Life Station.
   As a result, when she heard the low, gentle voice of one of those men,
her shock could not have been greater.
   "Hello Cassie."
   It took Cassiopeia more than ten microns before she dared to lift her
head.  Right away, she recognized the voice, but her stunned mind told
her that it simply could not be.
   When she forced herself to look up though, there was no mistaking the
sight of her onetime lover, Commander Cain.
   "Oh my God," she whispered as her mouth fell open.  Unlike the last
time she'd been reunited with him, two yahrens after Molocay, there was
more shock than elation, "Oh my God, Cain."
   "Sorry to surprise you," the Juggernaut made his way forward.  He had
already decided long ago, that running to her and embracing her would
have been too abrupt.  Too much time had elapsed for the both of them, "I
thought you would have heard by now.  It's been broadcast all over the
Fleet."
   Cassiopeia remained frozen in her position, "I...I don't watch the IFB
much, and things have been rather busy in here."
   Cain laughed and came to within a foot of the woman who had provided
so much care and comfort to him after the tragic death of his beloved
wife so long ago, "I imagine they are.  But I'm sure you've been doing a
damned good job, Cassie."
   "I've...done my best," she shook her head in amazement.  Long ago,
she'd always dreamed about what she might say if she ever saw Cain again. 
What was happening now didn't even come close to anything she had ever
dreamt.
   She finally sucked in her breath and seemed to regain control, "Good
Lords of Kobol, Cain, how...and why....?"
   "Why after thirty yahrens of chasing the Cylons on my own, did I
suddenly decide it was imperative for me to go looking for the Galactica
again?" the Juggernaut began to pace slightly in front of her, "I guess
it's because in the last yahren or two, I've become more aware of my own
mortality than I'd ever like to admit.  I just...sort of felt that if
there was some way I could be able to see people I love dearly again
before that final day of reckoning comes for me, then maybe I'd be able
to die at peace with myself."
   Cassiopeia suddenly felt her body tense.
   "The last few yahrens, I've laid half-awake quite a few nights,
wondering if you and Sheba were still alive and having a good life," Cain
went on, "I'm glad to see that at least you're still all right, and have
done well."
   She stared at him with an expression that was equally tense along with
the rest of her body, "You know about Sheba?"
   "Adama told me," he lowered his head and sighed, "I suppose it'll be
awhile before I can fully accept that, but at least it's good to know she
died doing her job."
   Cassiopeia's tense expression suddenly became a frown.
   "I taught her to be the best possible warrior," Cain went on, "But
even the best end up dying in the line of duty."
   Her expression of disbelief intensified.
   "Adama..." Cassiopeia chose her words carefully, "told you all that?"
   "Yes," now it was Cain's turn to frown slightly, "Why?"
   "Nothing," she shook her head, "Nothing, I...guess it's just not easy
for any of us to have to share things like that, when they happened so
long ago for us."
   "I suppose so," he admitted, "They tell me that Starbuck was lost in
battle too.  I'm sorry."
   "Thank you," the Chief Medical Officer smiled weakly.  The day Boomer
had told her that he'd had to leave his friend behind to crash on some
planet, and that unlike the earlier occasion at Atilla, there'd be no
returning to rescue him, had by far been the worst day of her entire
life.
   "Has there been anyone since Starbuck?" he asked the question with a
delicate edge.
   "No," she shook her head, "To be perfectly honest Cain, when the only
two men in my life have been you and Starbuck, that's a tough act for
anyone to follow."
   He returned her smile, "You were a tough act to follow too, Cassie."
   She then assumed a completely business-like tone, "Look, would you
like me to show you around or anything?"
   "Maybe later," he said, "I have to go back to the Pegasus and gather
some material for a Council meeting with Adama and everyone else in
another two centars.  I'm sure we can do a lot more catching up then."
   "Unless you plan on taking out another basestar before the meeting
begins," she took a step toward him and the two of them shared a very
brief kiss and embrace before he finally let go of her and departed.
   As soon as the door closed and Cassiopeia found herself alone again,
she suddenly bit her lip and felt her feelings of stunned shock,
amazement and elation give way to anger.
   "Damn you Adama," she said aloud under her breath, "How could you?"
   And then, the Chief Medical Officer suddenly walked out of the Life
Station at an angry pace, headed in the direction of the Commander's
quarters.
   

   "It's incredible," Dillon was still shaking his head in amazement as
he and Troy walked down the corridor that exited from the Officers Club,
"To think that I'm finally going to get a chance to see Cain himself. 
The man's always been just a name in history books to me."
   "It'll have to wait," his friend's voice was curt, "Cain's going to be
tied up with the Council for the rest of the day, and we'd be better off
getting back to our first priority, which is finding out where Xavier is
now."
   Dillon stopped and shook his head, "You don't seem quite as enthused
to focus on Cain, do you?"
   "So what if I don't?" Troy shot back.
   The memory of a conversation Troy had shared with him long ago, and
then sworn him to secrecy about suddenly came back to Dillon.  In an
instant, he understood why Troy was not anxious to dwell too much on the
subject.  To Troy, Cain's very existence was a haunting reminder of the
most painful subject in the life of the Commander's grandson.   A subject
so painful to Troy, that Dillon had refused to discuss it with their
friend on Earth (and now Dillon's occasional lover), Jamie Hamilton.
   "I'm sorry," Dillon said quietly and put a hand on Troy's shoulder,
"I....forgot."
   His friend smiled thinly, "If you forgot, then you have nothing to
apologize for.  It's probably me who should apologize.  After all, none
of it is Cain's fault.  It's just...him being there automatically forces
me to remember."
   Dillon then changed the subject, "Come on, let's see if there's anyone
with a brain in Council Security capable of helping us figure out how to
find Xavier."


   When Adama heard the chime to his door ring, he was startled to see an
angry Cassiopeia enter.  Although Cassiopeia had at one time been a part
of Adama's extended family, the yahrens since Starbuck's disappearance
had seen a distance grow between them to the point where their contact
was now very seldom.  For the most part, she conducted all of her
business in the chain-of-command with Colonel Boomer.
   There were times when Cassiopeia wondered if on one level, after many
yahrens, Adama had finally had a delayed reaction of resentment and anger
that she had been the one who had taken Starbuck's affection away from
Athena.  When Athena had been alive, it had been so much easier for Adama
to see things in better perspective as to why his daughter's relationship
with Starbuck had dissipated, but after Athena's death ten yahrens ago,
that had seemingly changed.  Perhaps it had just been the sadness that
the last of his children had died without ever having found anyone else
to love.  Or perhaps Adama thought that some inner devotion to Starbuck
had driven Athena to volunteer for a combat assignment that she knew she
had no chance of surviving.  Whatever the case, after Athena's death, the
relationship between Cassiopeia and the Commander had changed from it's
previous one of familial-like warmth to one of coolness and distance.
   None of that was on Cassiopeia's mind as she stood in front of Adama's
desk with a mixture of anger and bewilderment.
   "How could you?" she whispered, "How could you tell Cain what you did
about Sheba?"
   Adama looked at her with a stoic expression.  When he finally spoke,
he decided to be gentle.
   "What would you have preferred, Cassiopeia?" he said, "That I tell him
the truth?  A truth that I and Troy and anyone else unfortunate enough to
know, have tried to deny for the last sixteen yahrens?"
   "He has to know," the Chief Medical Officer held her ground, "Damn it
all, Adama, he has a right to know."
   "To know what?" Adama was still gentle, but was also holding his own
ground.
   Cassiopeia took an angry breath, "He has a right to know that however
tragic and ugly the whole story is, the fact remains that Sheba is not
dead."
   Adama then cast his glance down at the desk, avoiding all eye contact
with Cassiopeia.
   "In the cold technical sense, that's true," he said, "But the gentle
soul of the daughter he loved, and who I loved as if she were my own
daughter, and who Apollo loved even more, left us sixteen yahrens ago,
Cassiopeia.  For all intents and purposes, Sheba died then.  It's better
that Cain think she died in battle then have to know what really
happened."
   "Did it ever occur to you for one micron," the Chief Medical Officer
almost sounded contemptuous, "That maybe his reappearance could actually
lead to the miracle we always hoped for, and never thought could come?"
   Adama looked up at her again.
   "Cassiopeia," he said firmly, "I am sorry, but that is a miracle I
ceased to have any faith in a long time ago.  And as things stand as they
are, I can not afford to run the risk of what the truth could do to
Cain's psyche.  The morale of our people dictates that they be given the
Juggernaut in all his magnificent splendor.  If Cain were suddenly given
a trauma that affected his judgment elsewhere...." he then trailed off,
feeling that he'd succeeded in making his point.
   The Chief Medical Officer was still trembling in anger.  But it was
clear that she also knew that Adama wasn't going to change his mind no
matter what she said.
   "I guess that's it, then," she said reluctantly, "But if Cain really
plans on staying with the Fleet for good, you can't keep it a secret
forever, Adama."
   Adama glared at her, "I sincerely hope that isn't a threat that you'll
just tell him yourself."
   "Of course not," she snapped, "When the time comes, it has to come
from you, and I accept that.  I'll do as you say and keep my mouth shut
about it.  But that doesn't mean I have to like it, Adama."
   "Perhaps," he conceded as his voice also grew slightly angry, "But
remember this, Cassiopeia.  This is the first day in more than fifteen
yahrens, where this subject has come up even in passing.  I regard this
whole thing as even worse than the night Ila and Zac were taken from me
in the Holocaust, and quite frankly, the last thing I need is to hear you
tell me how insensitive I'm being about this!"
   Some of the anger faded from Cassiopeia's face.  She took a breath and
spoke in more measured tones.
   "Adama, I'm sorry.  Maybe I am thinking too much of Cain.  But I know
things about him a lot better than you or anyone else could understand,
and one thing I know is how much Sheba meant to him.  I can tell that the
one reason above all why he decided to come back was because he wanted
one last chance to see her again," she then paused briefly, "And I'd also
remind you that while it's easy for you to bury this incident forever, my
postion has forced me to be reminded of it on a constant basis."
   "I understand," his voice reverted to gentleness, "I sensed that too
when I spoke with him.  I am sorry that I had to lie to him, but for now,
there is simply no other way."
   "I wonder," Cassiopeia started heading for the door, "I really
wonder."
   And before the Commander could reply, she was gone.
   Adama let out a sigh of regret and opened one of the compartments of
his desk.  Inside, were several holopictures that he'd cherished for so
long, but which he could never keep in constant view because of the
sadness and pain they always evoked Anside him.
   There was the holopic of Zac on the day he had graduated from the
Academy.  The group picture of himself, Ila, Apollo, Athena and Zac from
the last family gathering prior to the Holocaust.  The picture of Apollo
and his first wife Serina, on the day they had become sealed for their
tragically brief marriage.
   And finally, a picture of Apollo and Sheba standing together on the
day they had come to tell him that after so many yahrens of a
relationship that had been on-again and off-again, they were finally
going to take the step that had always been difficult for them to make,
and committ to each other.
   That had only been less than a few sectans before the whole godawful
tragedy had happened.  A tragedy that as Adama had said to Cassiopeia, he
regarded as worse than any other tragedy that had befallen him.  In only
a sectan's time, he had lost both his son, and the gentle soul of his
would-be daughter.
   He finally put the picture back and closed the drawer, trying again
not to think about that whole incident that he'd buried for so long.  But
he knew that as much as he wanted to keep it that way, Cassiopeia's
warning was probably right.  He had now entered a phase where he would
probably not be able to stave off the inevitable forever.
  

   As Cain boarded the shuttle that would take him back for h is bried
trip to the Pegasus, he found his executive officer, Colonel Skyler
already aboard.
   "Well Skyler," the Juggernaut said as he settled into the seat next to
him, "How did you find the Galactica?"
   The executive officer smiled thinly, "It was...enlightening, sir."
   "'Enlightening?'" Cain smirked, "Skyler, that's the understatement of
the millennia."
   Skyler took a breath, "Sorry Commander, but I'm not feeling too upbeat
at the moment.  The first thing I did was check the personnel computer to
see if Bojay was still alive."
   The smirk faded from Cain's face at the mention of the warrior who
along with Sheba, had been the leader of Silver Spar Squadron.  Battle
injuries at Gomorrah had forced Bojay to be evacuated to the Galactica
before the Pegasus had gone off to engage the two basestars.
   The departure of Bojay and Sheba had elevated Skyler, then a nervous
young lieutenant who'd never envisioned himself as a leader, into the new
position of Silver Spar flight leader.  For a time, Cain had wondered if
Skyler would ever overcome his insecurity about his own worthiness to be
a leader, but it didn't take long for Skyler to prove his mettle again
and again over the next fifteen yahrens.
   After the sudden death of Cain's longtime executive officer, Colonel
Tolen, Skyler's record made the Juggernaut's decision to elevate him to
the number two position of authority, a relatively simple one.
   "Sixteen yahrens ago?" Cain sighed.
   "That was all it said," Skyler grimly nodded, "In cold type on a
computer monitor it said, 'Bojay, Captain.  Killed in action, 7363 in
Cylon engagement.'  Frack, that just seemed too damned impersonal.  Bojay
deserved better than that."
   The Juggernaut also nodded, "That must have been one terrible battle,
for someone like Bojay to get it.  It must have been the same one that
Sheba was involved in."
   "It was," Skyler admitted, "There was even less information about her
in the computer."
   Cain closed his eyes and fought off the inner pain he felt.
   "Well Skyler," he finally shook it off and clasped his hand on his
executive officer's shoulder, "As bad as it is to finally learn all that,
we just have to move on and deal with the way things are now.  Did you
get any more information about Earth?"
   "Colonel Boomer provided me with some data tapes that we can go over
before the Council meeting."
   "Good," Cain said, "That's something I need to get a handle on.  From
what Adama says, that planet is a couple hundred yahrens away from being
able to defend herself.  But there has to be something they're
overlooking.  Maybe we can figure it out and speed up the timetable.  I
can't believe that after all these yahrens, things have to suddenly come
to this kind of a standstill."
   Indeed, Cain thought to himself further as the shuttle took off for
its short journey back to the Pegasus.  It now seemed as if he'd come
back to a situation where the only thing Adama would  allow him to do was
sit still and do nothing.
   With his daughter gone forever, that was not a prospect he was looking
forward to in the least.  And by the Lords of Kobol, he was going to
devote all his energies to giving the rest of his life some sense of
purpose.

                   Chapter Three

   The micron Xavier had finished watching the IFB broadcast in the
Antares mess hall, he wasted his little time in getting to work on his
new idea.  Speed was of the essence if he was to make any headway.
   He slowly made his way down toward the shuttle docking bay area, where
supplies from the rest of the fleet were ferried to the Antares on a
routine basis every centar.
   A lone Council Security guard stood watch in the doorway leading to
the docking bay.  He'd already known that security postings aboard the
Antares were very light, and that their only function was to check
credentials and authorization passes.  Indeed, that had been precisely
why he'd made for the Antares after commandeering the shuttle he'd stowed
away on, on Earth.  There had never been any crime problems aboard the
passenger ship, and he'd known it would be the safest place for him to
remain in hiding for however long he chose.
   Now, just centars after he'd found his way aboard, he would  have to
leave that safe haven.  But if any of the dreams he'd harbored for the
last four yahrens were to have any chance of becoming a reality, then now
was the time to act.
   He hid himself in a compartment doorway down the hall from where the
guard kept his lonely vigil and checked his chronometer.  In less than
ten centons, a one-man shuttle from the Celestra would be arriving with
the latest cargo of maintenance parts.  That was when he'd have to make
his move.
   Xavier summoned all the skills that had made him the best warrior of
his day to the forefront as he sized up the lone security guard.  Typical
Council Security, he smirked.  He should be no problem at all.
   He stepped out into the corridor and nonchalantly made his way up to
the guard.
   "Can I help you?" there wasn't a hint of suspicion in the guard's
voice.
   "Yes, there've been some complaints over the food supplies, and I'm
taking the next shuttle to the agro ship to do something about that."
   "The next shuttle's one-way to the Celestra," the guard said, "You'll
have to wait until the Canaris comes by in a centar for the regular run."
   "Oh I see.  Well in that case, as long as I'm here, I might as well
save some time and let you approve my travel ducat."
   "No problem, just give it to me."
   Xavier reached into the folds of his tunic, and then with the sharp
swiftness that had been part of his warrior training, his hand abruptly
caught the guard on the chin in a powerful blow.
   Immediately, the guard collapsed to the floor unconscious.
   The renegade picked him up and calmly dragged him back to the empty
compartment he'd been hiding in and shoved the unconscious guard into the
storage closet.  Xavier removed the guard's laser pistol and weapons
pack, and then locked the door from the outside.  He strapped the weapons
pack around his waist and calmly waited for the shuttle to arrive.
   Phase two was now about to begin.
   He stood poised with the laser pistol at the ready, as he saw the
computer panel on the wall indicate that the approaching shuttle was
attaching itself to the docking ring of the Antares.
   It took a centon for the red lights on the panel to turn green and
indicate that pressurization was now complete.
   He did a slow mental countdown from five.  When he reached zero, the
door slid open and the lone shuttle pilot emerged.
   Xavier didn't give him a second to react as he fired his pistol and
the pilot collapsed to the floor, unconscious from the stun effect.
   The renegade calmly dragged him through the docking ring and into the
shuttle.  No sense leaving him out in the corridor in full view for now. 
By the time the pilot came too, he intended to be off the shuttle.  
   Once Xavier settled himself into the pilot's seat, he closed the hatch
and let out a smile of satisfaction.
   Phase two was now complete.
   And then he started the engines, and the shuttle pulled away from the
Antares, headed to some place other than the Celestra.


   "Okay," Troy said as Dillon and Council Security Chief Reese went over
a chart listing each of the 185 ships in the Fleet by name and function,
"We don't know where Xavier is now, so the obvious question is, which
ship would he be most likely to go to?"
   Reese shrugged, "The Rising Star perhaps?"
   Troy looked at the middle-aged Security Chief and tried not to groan
in disgust.  Every one of those stories his father had always told him
about the lack of imagination in Council Security had turned out to true
in every sense.
   "I don't think so, Reese," Dillon said gently, concealing his own lack
of respect, "The last place Xavier would go to is a place where there are
people bound to recognize him."
   "Exactly," Troy nodded, "It has to be a ship where the average person
doesn't know a Council member by sight.  Where you can lose yourself in
the crowd."
   Reese glared slightly at him, "You have a better idea then?"
   The captain looked down at the list of ships and made some notations.
   "Maybe one of the large passenger freighters," he finally said, "They
have upwards of a thousand crammed aboard, and we only have about ten to
twenty guards assigned for each one.  If he doesn't mind living in
conditions one step removed from the prison barge, then that could be a
good enough hiding place."
   Dillon nodded, "That's what I was thinking.  Any chance of increasing
the guards in each of the freighter?"
   Reese looked at him in amazement, "You've got to be kidding
Lieutenant.  You know that our first priority is security for the work
ships in the Fleet.  Transferring them to the passenger ships means
weakening security in more sensitive areas."
   "I'm afraid he's right," Troy admitted, "If our hunch was wrong and it
was something sensitive like the agro-ship or the Celestra, we'd really
be asking for trouble." 
   "So what do we do then, if you think you should play on your hunch
about the passenger ships?" the Security Chief folded his arms and kept a
note of frost in his voice.
   Troy decided not to match it, "I think we should make the rounds with
the captains of the passenger freighters as well as the guards stationed
there, and do some preliminary investigating."
   "Very well," Reese nodded, "I can prepare a memo for all the security
units on these ships and that way they'll have some explicit instructions
on what to look for."
   "We'll pass that along to each of them," Troy said and turned to his
friend, "Dillon, get a shuttle ready in Alpha Bay and we can get
started."
   "Where to first?" the blonde lieutenant asked.
   Troy looked down at the list, "Let's start with the biggest one in the
Fleet.  The Antares."


   Aboard the Pegasus, Cain had returned to his quarters to go over the
data on Earth that had been given to him.
   Before he got started though, he absently switched on the hologram
device on his table.
   "Happy Birthday Father," the thirty yahren old image of Sheba smiled
radiantly at him, "I love you."
   He shut it off and let out a sad sigh of regret.
   "I'm sorry baby," he whispered softly, "I'm sorry I wasn't there."
   Just like he hadn't been there when his wife Bethany had died thirty
five yahrens ago.  Always, the pursuit of battle and the glory of
fighting against the Cylons had come first in his life, ahead of all
obligations to the people he'd dearly loved.  And now, the same wretched
feelings of guilt he'd felt after the death of Bethany, were filling his
heart and soul again.
   It was hard for him to believe that any combat assignment, no matter
how brutal Adama had said it was, could have taken his daughter away. 
Though she had inherited all of her mother's physical characteristics,
inside Sheba was the living embodiment of what he'd been as a warrior. 
He'd trained her to hone her inherent skills and become the best young
viper pilot he'd ever seen.
   But somehow, those skills hadn't been enough to save her from whatever
had happened in that battle.
   The Juggernaut finally shook himself out of his depressed stupor and
switched on the Earth data tapes.
   When he was finished a centar later though, Cain now found that there
was something else for him to be depressed about.


   After getting his shuttle clear of the Antares, Xavier calmly put his
communications beacon into a temporary shutdown mode, and then guided his
craft on a slow heading past the large clusters of ships that comprised
the remainder of the fleet.  Playing things just right meant not rushing. 
He had to get to his destination without attracting too much attention.
   He switched on his scanner and analyzed the targets.  After isolating
the location of the Galactica, he was then able to adjust his sweep to
look for the Pegasus.
   A loud ping sounded as he locked on to it.  The aged battlestar had
assumed position on the far side of the fleet, not far from the Celestra.
   Upon seeing that indication, Xavier frowned slightly.  Since the
shuttle he had commandeered was from the Celestra, passing in close
proximity to the maintenance ship could present a problem
   He decided that he would just have to take that chance and he slowly
assumed a heading that would take him in that direction.


   As Troy and Dillon flew their shuttle on an approach to the Antares,
their was a large measure of uncharacteristic silence between the two
friends.
   Dillon cast a quick glance at Troy and could see the slightly heavy
expression in the eyes.  It was clear that his friend had been brooding
heavily about the unspoken subject surrounding Apollo and Sheba ever
since he'd learned of Cain's return.
   For the first time in many yahrens, Dillon was reminded of how painful
and traumatic that experience had been for Troy.  He could still recall
that day sixteen yahrens ago, when the two of them were still
cadets-in-training.  The news of the death of both Apollo and Sheba had
been broadcast to the Fleet in the wake of the terrible Cylon engagement,
and Dillon had stopped by his friend's bunk to offer some moral support.
   He hadn't been prepared for what Troy had told him about what had
really happened.  And even then, Apollo's son had refused to go into any
in-depth details.  The only thing he'd demanded of Dillon was a pledge to
never mention what he'd told him to anyone.
   The efficient manner in which Troy had approached his duties as a
warrior in the yahrens since had left Dillon convinced that his friend
wasn't overly haunted by the trauma.  But Troy's generally aloof social
behavior with his fellow warriors made Dillon wonder occasionally if it
had left a lingering stamp that could never fade completely.
   And now that Cain had returned, it was more clear to Dillon that it
never could.
   "Antares, this is Captain Troy," his friend broke the silence as he
hit the radio, "Request immediate clearance for docking."
   "You're cleared, Captain," a pleasant male voice responded, "And could
you do us a favor when you arrive and check for the security guard in
that zone?"
   Troy instantly frowned, "Something gone wrong?"
   "Right now, we're not sure.  The guard we have stationed there to
approve all travel ducats and process arrivals isn't answering his
com-link.  We sent another guard down there ten centons ago and he hasn't
been able to find him."
   The two warriors looked at each other with suspicious expressions.
   "Uh....affirmative, Antares.  We'll pitch in as soon as we're aboard."
   As soon as Troy shut off the communicator, Dillon immediately spoke
up, "What do you make of that?"
   "I'm not sure yet," Troy admitted, "But I have a funny feeling we've
stumbled into something that's more than just a mere coincidence."


   Aboard the maintenance ship Celestra, the Captain, an attractive
middle-aged female named Aurora, was making her periodic inspections
aboard the bridge.
   "Delta shuttle, do you copy?"  she heard the increasingly impatient
voice of the communications officer repeat for the third time, which
caused her to go over to his console.
   "Something wrong?"
   The communications officer looked up and shook his head in
frustration, "Delta shuttle made a routine run to the Antares a little
while ago for delivery of some parts.  It's coming within approach range
of us now, and it isn't answering any of our calls or making any requests
to land."
   "Who's flying that shuttle?" she asked.
   The communications officer checked his log, "Flight Sergeant Silva."
   "Stay with it," Aurora said, "If he doesn't acknowledge in the next
three centons, he's going to be put on report for a sectan."
   The communications officer nodded and resumed his transmission..
   Really strange, Aurora thought.  Sergeant Silva was one of the more
efficient crewmen aboard the Celestra.  Come to think of it, she recalled
that Silva was the type of man who enjoyed his duties so much that he
wouldn't have considered the old days aboard the Celestra, when Chaka was
running the ship like a slavemaster and had driven Aurora to take part in
a mutiny, to be too strenuous.
   "Captain," the bewildered tone in the communications officer
increased, "Take a look at this.  He just flew right past us."
   Aurora hunched over the scanner and frowned, "Where's he heading?"
   The communications officer looked at the readout, "He's on an approach
heading for the Pegasus."
   "Notify the Pegasus and tell them to detain that shuttle if it lands
there," a note of frost entered the Captain's voice, "And put me through
to the Antares, so I can find out what went on back there."


   As soon as Troy and Dillon had docked their shuttle inside the
Antares' docking ring, they were immediately greeted by the sight of an
anxious security guard who had just arrived on the scene.
   "They told us you've lost a security guard," Troy said as he came up
to the young, black-shirted guard.
   "Uh....yes sir.  I was supposed to relieve Sergeant Jakes ten centons
ago, but he's just disappeared.  Won't answer his comlink."
   "How many men do you have searching for him?" Dillon asked.
   The guard nervously smiled, "Just me, sir.  We really don't have much
of a security force aboard here, but then again the Antares does have a
virtually non-existent crime rate."
   Troy found it amusing that this young guard was the first member of
Council Security he could ever recall being so polite and deferential to
a warrior.
   "Well tell me Corporal, ah..."
   "Galen, sir."
   "Tell me Galen, did you try the compartments adjacent to here?"
   "I gave them a look, but they're all empty."
   "Including the storage closets and other small rooms?"
   Corporal Galen flushed slightly in embarrassment, "Uh...no sir, that
thought didn't occur to me."
   Troy tried not to sigh.  Whether they were pompous like Reese or
nervous like this kid, they all had the same lack of imagination.
   "Let's have a look," Troy led Dillon and Galen into the first
compartment adjacent to the docking area.
   Two centons later, the storage closet was opened and for some reason,
Troy was not surprised to see the unconscious form of Sergeant Jakes
tumble out onto the floor.


   Ten centons later, the two warriors were conferring on the bridge of
the Antares with the passenger freighter's captain, a bearded veteran of
the Colonial Merchant Service named Jacklin, who's career aboard the
Antares went all the way back to her glory days as a luxury cruiser prior
to the Holocaust, when he'd signed on as a bar steward.
   "Our doctor says it will be a centar before the sergeant regains
consciousness, but I can't for the life of me understand who could have
done this.  Crime has been virtually non-existent aboard the Antares for
more than ten yahrens."
   "There is a possibility Captain, that whoever did this to the
Sergeant, is a wanted renegade," Troy said, "In particular, the one we
suspect is Councilman Xavier."
   Jacklin's eyebrows went up, "Xavier?  Impossible.  How could he have
gotten aboard this ship in the first place?"
   "How many shuttles docked here yesterday, Captain?" Troy asked.
   The freighter captain shrugged, "Difficult to say.  Yesterday we had a
high volume of deliveries from the agro-ship, the Celestra, the livestock
ship, and at least several others."
   "Could we see the log manifest for yesterday?" Dillon asked, "That's
the only way we can tell for sure that he had the opportunity to get
aboard."
   "That shouldn't be a problem," Jacklin went over to a console and
punched several buttons, "There it is."
   The two warriors hunched over the readout, "The shuttle Xavier
commandeered from Earth was found by our patrol at 1610 yesterday," Troy
said, "Allowing for where we found it, he couldn't have gotten aboard
later than 1400 or 1500 if he came here."
   "Look at this," Dillon pointed, "Shuttle from Rising Star arrived at
1425 yesterday, and then left again at 1427.  That would account for the
two centon programmed delay he built into the shuttle for it to take off
again." 
   "Langham," Captain Jacklin called over to the communications officer,
"Do you remember that shuttle yesterday at 1425 from the Rising Star?"
   The communications officer turned and nodded, "Yes sir, I do.  We had
the shuttle from the livestock ship right behind due at 1435, and I had
to keep telling the pilot to make it quick and get out fast."
   "Did he say how many passengers he had aboard?" Troy asked.
   Langham shrugged, "Not that I recall."
   "Who was stationed in the docking zone yesterday?" he turned back to
the Captain.
   Corporal Galen awkwardly stepped forward, "Uh...I was sir.  I remember
only one person getting off.  He had a legitimate ID for access to be
here."
   "For the Antares?"
   "They all look alike sir, it had the usual green backing and all
that."
   "And so do the ID's for all the other passenger freighters, Corporal,"
Jacklin's voice grew slightly grave, "It might not have been an Antares
pass."
   "But where could he have gotten one, if he wasn't legit?"
   "Not too difficult there," Troy said, "Probably came from the pilot he
knocked out."
   Jacklin turned back to the two warriors, "Captain, Lieutenant, I'd
advise you not to jump the gun too much.  The only thing we have reason
to suspect is that someone may or may not have illegally gained access to
the Antares, and that someone who might not necessarily be the same
person, has left the Antares for reasons unknown."
   "And current whereabouts unknown," Dillon grunted in disgust.
   "Let's check with the Rising Star," Troy offered, "They'd know if a
shuttle left them at about 1400 with one passenger for here."
   Five centons later, Jacklin had finished talking with the luxury ship
and grimly nodded, "Their manifest says that the only shuttle that left
between 1200 and 1600 yesterday for us was the Canaris."
   "That's it then," Troy said with disappointment, "He was here.  And
where he's gone off to now, God only knows."
   "Sir," Langham spoke up, "There's a message for you from the Celestra. 
Captain Aurora."
   The Antares captain raised an eyebrow, "Very well, Langham, put her on
scan."
   The still pleasantly attractive face of the Celestra's captain filled
the screen, although there was an annoyed expression on it.
   "Captain Jacklin," Aurora said, "Could you tell me just what went on
aboard your ship that's causing one of my shuttle pilots to suddenly take
leave of his senses?"
   Jacklin frowned, "I'm afraid I don't understand."
   "We sent a shuttle over to you for routine delivery of parts thirty
centons ago.  That same shuttle just went past us without communicating
or requesting landing clearance, but has instead gone joyriding over to
the Pegasus."
   Troy suddenly bolted forward, "Celestra, this is Captain Troy from the
Galactica.  It's important you get word to the Pegasus to have that
shuttle detained as soon as its aboard."
   "It's already been done," Aurora replied, "Can you tell me what's
going on?"
   "We have reason to believe there's a fugitive aboard that shuttle. 
Please notify the Pegasus that Lieutenant Dillon and I are on our way
over to take custody of him."
   The Celestra captain's face softened in understanding, "I'll...see to
that immediately Captain Troy."
   "Come on," Troy motioned to Dillon as the two Galactica warriors left
the bridge of the Antares as fast as they could.
   As they made their way back the docking ring, Dillon managed to ask,
"Why would he have gone for the Pegasus?  To steal a viper?"
   "No," his friend shook his head, "I have a feeling he's got something
else in mind.  Something a lot worse than just stealing a viper for
another time travel run."
   Dillon stopped in his tracks just as they entered the ring, "You
think...?"
   "I do."


   As Xavier guided the shuttle on a final approach to the Pegasus, he
anxiously sucked in his breath and decided that the time had come to
switch his communications beacon back on.
   "Unidentified shuttle, this is the Pegasus," a stern sounding voice
suddenly filled the cockpit, "You do not have clearance or authorization
to land.  Identify yourself now."
   Xavier decided that now was the time to respond, "Pegasus core
command, this is Councilman Xavier.  I don't know whether or not
Commander Adama has had the opportunity to tell you who I am, but it is a
matter of life and death that I be given the opportunity to meet
personally with Commander Cain.  The future of our people depends on my
being able to speak with him."
   There was a brief pause of dubious silence before the Pegasus bridge
officer responded.
   "Uh...shuttle, we're going to give you clearance to land in Alpha Bay. 
I will....relay your request to the Commander."
   "I'm not getting off until I have an answer to my request, Pegasus,"
Xavier sharply retorted, "You may not realize this, Pegasus, but I happen
to be the most wanted political prisoner in the Fleet.  I am willing to
surrender myself to Commander Cain's custody with the stipulation that I
be held aboard the Pegasus, and that I be given a personal audience with
him."
   "Look...uh...Councilman whatever, I can't promise anything.  Just give
me a few centons."
   "Make it quick," the renegade snapped, "Because I have the pilot of
this shuttle as my prisoner, and if my request is not honored, I intend
to do something very rash."
   As Xavier brought the shuttle into the landing bay, he had to admit to
himself that it had come down to one last desperate gamble.  But four
yahrens of hiding on Earth, unable to do anything, had tired him, and he
was now prepared to stake his freedom on a chance that Commander Cain
would react exactly as he hoped.


   A depressed Cain was still going through the last of the Earth data
tapes when he heard the chime sound, "Yes, Skyler?"
   "Sir, something unusual's come up.  We have an unidentified shuttle
that just landed here.  The pilot says he's a political prisoner who's
willing to surrender to our custody only on the condition that he speak
to you, personally."
   The Juggernaut frowned, "Are you serious?"
   "Yes sir," Skyler said, "He has one hostage and is prepared to kill
him unless you agree to speak to him."
   "Do we have guards in the landing bay?" a note of urgency entered his
voice.
   "As a matter of fact sir, a micron after he signalled us, we got word
from a passenger freighter that there was a fugitive piloting that
shuttle.  The guards have already been sent there, but with the shuttle
locked up, we'd have to mount an assault that would have no guarantee of
getting the hostage out alive."
   "Great," Cain let out an exasperated snort, "And he says he'll
surrender only if I talk to him?"
   "Yes sir."
   "Does he say who he is?"
   "He did say he was a Councilman, and that it concerned the survival of
the entire Fleet."
   Cain was silent for a moment and absently drummed his fingers on his
desk.  Then he decided that after what he'd just gone through, he'd be
willing to listen to anything.
   "Okay," Cain said, "I'll do it.  Tell him I accept and have him
brought to my quarters under guard."
   "He says he won't be satisfied unless he sees you in the landing bay,
personally."
   The Juggernaut let out another exasperated grunt and threw up his
hands, "All right, I'm on my way.  And check with the Galactica to see if
they know who this joker is."


   "Do you really think Cain would listen to Xavier?" Dillon asked as
Troy piloted the shuttle on a course for the Pegasus.
   "Think back to all you know about Cain," Troy responded, "A
blood-and-guts warrior of action, who now finds himself in a situation
where the Fleet has to stand still for a minimum of a hundred yahrens
before we can ever fight back against the Cylons again in a meaningful
way."
   An uneasy look came over the blonde lieutenant's face, "Oh boy, I
think I get the idea."
   "Pegasus core control, this is Galactica shuttle requesting landing
clearance immediately."
   "Affirmative, Galactica shuttle, but please divert to heading for Beta
Bay.  We just had to close down Alpha Bay for now."
   "Sounds as though he's already there," Dillon grunted, "Let's hope we
can get to Cain before he does."

   
   As soon as Xavier brought his shuttle to a stop in the landing bay, he
made his way to the cockpit window where he could see a half dozen
Colonial security guards taking up position.  Unlike the Council Security
goons, the military guards were people he knew he couldn't dare mess
with.
   He then dragged the still-unconscious form of the Celestra pilot up to
the front so that he was in full view of the guards outside, and then
Xavier pointed his pistol at the pilot's temple in determination.
   Five centons passed before he finally saw the imposing figure of Cain
stroll into the landing bay.
   "Perfect," he let out a grin and then opened the door to the shuttle. 
Still holding the guard, he finally emerged.
   "All right, 'Councilman Xavier'," Cain said coldly as soon as Xavier
came into view, "I've been informed by the Galactica that you're wanted
on charges of high treason, so I don't think you can have anything
worthwhile for me to hear."
   The renegade councilman pointed his pistol at the temple of the pilot,
"Commander, you explicitly gave me your word, and unless you honor it, I
will kill this man.  You will then shoot me dead of course, but that is
an end I prefer to spending the rest of my life aboard the prison barge
without a chance to state my case.  Adama and the Council have made me a
traitor and outcast against my will, when my only desire was to see to it
that Earth's technology be advanced to a rate where she could fight back
against the Cylons tomorrow."
   The Juggernaut froze.  This was something he hadn't expected.  And on
the heels of what he'd just read about Earth, he suddenly felt his
suspicion and depression briefly evaporate.
   "Very well, Councilman," the Juggernaut said evenly, "Release him, and
you may speak with me in my quarters."
   "Thank you Commander," Xavier let go of the unconscious pilot, "In
addition to your military genius, I have always known you to be a man of
honor."
   "Yes," Cain nodded as he motioned to the guards, "It would seem that
you and I have a lot to talk about, Councilman."
   As the Pegasus guards took hold of him, the lift doors at the other
end opened, and an alarmed Troy and Dillon dashed across the tarmac to
where they were all gathered.
   "Commander Cain," Troy was out of breath, "Commander Cain, you have to
listen to me."
   Cain stared at him, "Oh yes, you're Adama's grandson, aren't you? 
Recognized you from the holopicture.  What brings you here, Captain?"
   Troy shot a glance at Xavier who was smiling in satisfaction,
"Commander, this man is a wanted fugitive who has already been sentenced
to life imprisonment aboard the prison barge for treason.  Since you have
him in custody, Fleet procedure dictates that he be turned over
immediately and sent back to the prison barge."
   "I'm aware of that, Captain," Cain said firmly, "But I have already
given my word that Councilman Xavier will remain in custody here on the
Pegasus for now."
   "Commander sir, with all due respect, you do not have the authority to
do that.  He's already been convicted by a Council tribunal, and he must
be turned over to civil authority now."
   "The last time I checked Captain, warriors don't represent civil
authority," the Juggernaut mildly retorted, "I will be glad to listen to
a proper protest from Council authority after I have spoken to the
prisoner, and if they ask me to turn him over, I will certainly consider
that."
   "Sir---" Troy protested.
   "What's the matter, Captain Troy?" Xavier suddenly took on a taunting
edge, "Are you afraid of what might happen if Commander Cain learns the
truth from me?  The truth that your grandfather and all those other
imbecilic daggits on the Council have blinded themself to for yahrens
now?"
   Cain suddenly turned on him with a cold look, "I wouldn't gloat if I
were you, Councilman," he said, "I only promised to listen to you. 
Nothing more.  If it turns out that I'm not impressed by what you have to
say, I won't hesitate to turn you over."
   "Sir, I must insist that you turn him over now!" Troy repeated with
emphasis.
   "This is my ship, Captain," Cain was equally cold with the Galactica
warrior, "And I won't allow you to demonstrate any further
insubordination to a superior if you want stay aboard.  If you're willing
to accept that, then you and the lieutenant may wait at my convenience
until I have finished talking with the prisoner."
   Before Troy could respond, Dillon grabbed him by the arm.
   "Don't push it," his friend said, "Let's just wait and see what
happens."
   Reluctantly, Troy nodded.
   As Cain motioned the guards to lead Xavier out, the renegade shot
another smirk at the two warriors who'd doggedly pursued him for more
than four yahrens.
   "Don't let him get to you," Dillon tried to sound reassuring, "You
don't really think he could get Cain on his side, do you?"
   Troy's expression was grim, "If he manages to do it," he said and then
decided to borrow a metaphor he'd learned on Earth, "Then we're all going
to be in a lot of deep shit."

                    Chapter Four

   "I'm going to give you exactly half a centar to explain yourself,
Councilman Xavier," Cain said as he seated himself behind his desk, "The
only reason I'm indulging you is because of what you say you were
convicted for."
   Even though Xavier's hands remained shackled, he still smiled, "Yes, I
had a feeling it would strike a nerve with you, Commander.  I take it
that since your miraculous arrival here, you have had a chance to learn
about our present situation with Earth?"
   "I have," the Juggernaut nodded, "To be honest, this is exactly the
scenario I'd long feared when Adama first told me about his quest for
Earth thirty yahrens ago.  A primitive civilization incapable of
defending itself from Cylon attack."
   "And has Adama told you about his master scheme for improving the
situation on Earth?"
   "He has."
   "A slow, torturous process that will pay no dividends for a minimum of
a hundred, perhaps two hundred yahrens," Xavier's voice was pointed, "And
as you are undoubtedly aware, a Cylon task force is lying not too far
beyond our scanner range watching and waiting for us to lead them to
Earth.  That means, we have to keep this Fleet moving in a random pattern
in space for centuries and hope that we can keep Earth a secret.  All the
while, our people must continue to live like animals in these rusted
derelicts with nothing to hope for but the forlorn possibility that their
grandchildren will be the first people to eventually settle on Earth. 
Would you not agree that this is an abominable scenario?"
   Cain didn't respond at first.
   "Well Commander?" the renegade continued to prod.
   "I...won't dispute that," he finally said.
   "I didn't think so," Xavier said with a faint air of relish, "I didn't
think that you would find a policy that translates to perpetual inaction
against our enemy to be satisfactory in the least."
   "But I don't think you're naive enough to believe that the Fleet
should simply settle on Earth right now," Cain's voice regained an edge,
"Not with the Cylons monitoring us."
   "Certainly not."
   "Am I to take it," the Juggernaut probed delicately, "That you
received a conviction of treason for proposing something more...drastic?"
   "Not merely propose," Xavier said, "I tried to implement it." 
   "Without authorization or approval from Adama."
   "That didn't stop you thirty yahrens ago at Gomorrah, didn't it?" he
smiled wryly.
   "No," Cain returned it only halfway, but already the renegade's
attitude was impressing him a great deal.  He almost saw something of
himself in Xavier, "What did you try to implement?"
   "Something that would bring Earth's technology up to our level in a
micron," Xavier said with an air of solemnity, "Going back into Earth's
past and introducing technologies hundreds of yahrens before they were
developed.  Giving them electronics, atomic power, spaceflight
capability, and things they don't even have now.  As a result of our
efforts, the Earth of today would become a powerful entity capable not
only of withstanding Cylon attack, but even helping us go on the
offensive for the first time since the Holocaust!"
   Cain's expression suddenly became dubious.
   "Councilman Xavier," he said, "Were you convicted of treason or
insanity?"
   "Commander Adama will confirm that time travel in Earth's past is
within our capability."
   "How?" the Juggernaut was unconvinced.
   "That's...not easy to explain.  The capability was developed by
someone who mercifully is no longer among us," Xavier had too much
contempt for the memory of Dr. Zee to mention his name, "It simply
involves using a single viper to travel in excess of....oh felgercarb,
even I can't explain it for it to make sense, but all it takes is flying
close to Earth on a particular arc and you can succeed in ending up at
any point in Earth's past that you desire."
   Cain's expression remained dubious.
   "Let me get this straight," he finally said, "This Fleet has learned
how to travel through time, and the only thing that occurs to you is the
prospect of changing Earth history?"
   Xavier finally realized what Cain was getting at and he vigorously
shook his head, "Commander, one thing about the procedure I do understand
is that you can only go back into the  past of the planet you happen to
be in proximity to.  If you wanted to change the history of what happened
to the Colonies, you'd have to go all the way back to Caprica in order to
do that."
   "I see," Cain nodded, "Thank you for clarifying that.  So you made
such an attempt to change Earth's past?"
   "I did."
   "Why did Adama and the Council oppose you?"
   He let out a grim chuckle, "At the time, Adama was under the spell of
that...individual who is gone now.  According to Adama, travelling
through time involves too many 'dangerous risks,'" he placed a heavy
amount of sarcasm on the last two words, "He thinks that any slight
change in the past has the potential for creating an Earth worse than
what exists now.  I believe the inane term he used is the 'Snowball
Effect.'"
   "Wait a centon," Cain rubbed his chain, "I remember that term from my
days at the Academy.  We had a military history instructor who always
liked to point to the little things here and there that conceivably
affected the outcome of a famous battle.  Like the time the human
settlement at Arkana was destroyed because the operator in charge of
monitoring their deep scan had been drunk that night.  He said you could
have created an entirely different future if you'd gone back into the
past and done some little thing that would have kept him from getting
drunk that night.  Just like rolling a snowball from the top of a
mountain.  By the time it reaches the bottom, it's escalated into
something massive."
   Xavier felt a trifle uneasy to see Cain so familiar with the concept. 
That did not seem like a good sign.
   "He also pointed out to us, that the same principle can be applied to
achieve results worse than what happened.  If say it was a Colonial
victory that you changed into a defeat because you went back and made the
deep-scan operator drunk," Cain continued, "So I'm afraid Adama had every
right to be concerned...in theory."
   The renegade tensed, "Perhaps, but surely given the situation as it
now exists, the least we could do is try and achieve a favorable
outcome!"
   "I'm not dismissing your idea out of hand, Councilman," Cain said
gently, "As a matter of fact, I find it quite interesting."
   "Then you agree with me!" he broke into a somewhat awkward smile.
   "To a point," Cain lightly rapped his swagger stick against the desk,
"You would not have been convicted of the highest crime against the state
unless you had done something particularly odious when you made your
unsuccessful attempt to change Earth's past."
   Xavier seemed to deflate.  In his heart, he knew that he could never
defend his decision to help Nazi Germany even to Cain.  In four yahrens
on Earth he'd had the chance to realize he'd made a terrible
miscalculation in the choice of which regime to give assistance to.
   "I...made a mistake in my approach," he said, "I chose to assist a
barbaric regime.  I...conceivably could have created an Earth run by a
dictatorship worse than the Cylons are."
   "You admit that," Cain's voice was neutral.
   "I do," he admitted.
   The Juggernaut looked at him thoughtfully for a long minute.
   "One viper you said," he finally spoke.
   "Yes."
   Cain then hit the chime and the two guards who'd escorted Xavier
entered.
   "Remove his shackles," the Commander ordered.
   As soon as the renegade's hands were free, Cain then moved a pen and
paper across the desk.
   "I want you to write down the procedure to the letter," his tone was
soft, but the command edge was the hardest Xavier had ever heard.
   Xavier nodded and spent the next several centons scribbling furiously
on the paper.
   When he was through, Cain calmly picked it up.
   "This is how it's done?" he asked gently.
   "Yes," Xavier nodded vigorously.
   "You give me your word on that?" the tone remained gentle.
   "I do."
   "Very well," the Juggernaut calmly leaned back in his chair, "Guards,
turn him over to Captain Troy for proper dispensation."
   The renegade was shocked, "What?!" he blurted. 

   "I find your idea intriguing," Cain kept his voice soft as the guards
grabbed Xavier by the arms and instantly reattached the shackles, "But
frankly Councilman, the more I talk to you, the more I find that there is
very little I like about you on a personal level."
   "No!" Xavier shouted as the guards started to move him out, "You can't
do this, Cain!  You need me!  You need me more than you realize!"
   But by this point, Cain had turned his back to him, and then the door
closed, cutting off the rest of the renegade's protests.


   On another side of the Fleet, a small, lumbering, nondescript looking
craft stood alone.  That was typical because no other ship in the Fleet
ever liked to get close to it for any reason.
   It's official designation was Hospital Ship #2.  Unofficially, it was
known by another, less flattering title.  The Nuthouse.
   On this ship, the people who were officially designated as mentally
incompetent were taken to spend the rest of their hollow, lonely lives. 
Barring any unforeseen miracles that they might one day wake up and find
themselves cured.
   But that was never true for those taken aboard the so-called
"Nuthouse."  Those who had good chances of recovering from mental illness
went to the main Hospital Ship, where the rate of patient recovery was
greater than 80 percent.  Only those regarded as beyond all possible hope
were taken here, where they were cursed to be largely forgotten and
ignored by the rest of the Fleet.
   What a terrible, evil place, Cassiopeia thought to herself as the
shuttle from the Galactica came to a stop and she got off.  There were
times when she felt as if those who lived aboard the prison barge had it
better than the poor souls condemned to live here.
   And that was more true as she came here today.  It had been almost two
yahrens since she'd made her last visit to this place.  Long ago, she'd
felt a moral obligation to come here as often as her duties would permit
it, but over time it had become too painful for her.  Now, she merely
satisfied herself by reading the periodic reports sent to her by the
hospital staff.
   Today was different though.  After today, she knew she had to come
back here again and confront a painful legacy of the past.
   When the chief officer of the ship's medical staff, Dr. Edom, saw her
enter, he promptly rose in surprise.
   "Dr. Cassiopeia," he said, "This is quite unexpected."
   "I know, Dr. Edom," Cassiopeia said as she reciprocated his handshake,
"I'm sorry I came without notifying you in advance, but I had a reason."
   "I see," he nodded sadly.  He'd been aboard the ship for ten yahrens
and knew right away why she was here, "Decided it was time to see Rayena
again?"
   "Yes," the Chief Medical Officer nodded, "After a yahren, I felt it
was time again."
   Edom let out a sigh and then led her on that long, sad walk down the
dark corridors to the various cell rooms.  As they passed some of them,
Cassiopeia could hear the moans and grunts of some of the poor souls
who's sanity had been gone for yahrens.
   "I wish I could tell you that there was just one tiny little change,"
he said, "But I'm afraid it's just the same, like it's always been since
the day I got here."
   "I know," Cassiopeia's tone grew quiet, "I know."
   "She was a close friend of yours?" Edom came to a stop in front of one
of the doors.
   "Very," she said simply, "I knew Rayena long before the Holocaust."
   "Didn't she have any other family?" he began punching the buttons on
the keyboard next to the door.
   "The two people she loved the most, died before....it happened,"
Cassiopeia sighed.
   "Then you must know a lot more about Rayena than her personnel record
indicates," Edom finished with the keyboard, "All it says is her age,
that she was born on Caprica, and that she had some kind of breakdown
sixteen yahrens ago."
   "I'll check the file myself and correct it when I can," her tone grew
curt as the door slid open.  Cassiopeia then turned back to Edom and said
firmly, "Give me five centons alone, Edom."
   "With any patient but Rayena, I'd say no," Edom said, "But in her
case, there's never any cause for worry."
   And then, the door slid shut and Cassiopeia was left alone in the room
with its permanent occupant.
   The dimly lit, windowless room exuded nothing but the gloom and
depression one would expect of a place like this.  The walls, floor, and
ceiling were all cushioned with a soft padding.
   To one side toward the back, a small bed was bolted to the floor.  In
it, the woman known in the medical records as Rayena was kept totally
immobilized by several straps.
   Why do they have to do that?  Cassiopeia thought as she made her way
back.  In her condition, she'd never be a threat.
   She then stood over the bedside and looked down.
   She saw a woman the same age as her.  Her light brown hair had been
kept cut short the last time Cassiopeia had been here, but they had now
let it grow back to the shoulder length it had once been.  She wore a
simple, white garment that covered her from the neck to the feet. 
Several tubes were attached to her arm, pumping in the nutrition that
could only be administered intravenously, while another tube acted as a
urine collector.
   The face was the same as it had always been for sixteen yahrens. 
Brown eyes glazed over and vacant.  Her lips tightly drawn in unending
silence.  Her expression, one of perpetual, frozen fear and horror.
   For sixteen yahrens she had not said a word.  Not since the day it had
all happened.  An event so tragic and painful that the facts had been
covered up by Adama.  And part of that cover-up had included admitting
her to this place in absolute secrecy under the manufactured identity of
Rayena.  In the end, only five people, Adama, Cassiopeia, Starbuck,
Boomer and later Troy (she did not know about Troy's revelation to
Dillon), knew the truth about who Rayena really was.
   As Cassiopeia looked down at the woman known officially as Rayena, she
let out a said sigh.  She knew that "Rayena" had a secret locked inside
her mind that would explain the whole reason for how and why the tragedy
had happened.  Only something terrible and hideous could have caused her
to act as she had done, and which had then plunged her into a dark abyss
she had still not come out of, and in all likelihood, never would for the
as long as her physical body continued to function.
   Cassiopeia carefully reached down and ran her hand through the woman's
hair.  It produced no reaction at all.  On rare occasions, "Rayena" was
known to impulsively jerk her muscles and emit some kind of guttural
frightened noise whenever someone tried to touch her.  Apart from that,
there had never been any other kind of movement from her.
   A conscious coma, Cassiopeia thought.  That was how a horrified
Starbuck had once described it to her, just days before he had been lost. 
A frozen comatose condition in which the victim was always awake and
conscious.  It almost seemed like a fate far worse than death.
   Sixteen yahrens had passed, and nothing had changed.
hn As she continued to look, Cassiopeia suddenly felt her mind pondering
a new question.  A question about her own role in this affair.
   Had she really done all she could have to try and bring "Rayena" out
of her terrible condition?  Had she developed too much of a blind spot
when Adama had said the story needed to be covered up?  Could she have
devoted more time to studying the all-but-lost techniques of psychiatric
medicine and tried to find a way that would have brought "Rayena" out of
the abyss?
   The longer she looked into her friend's vacant eyes, the more she
wondered if she'd let her down after all these yahrens.
   Dear God, she thought, if the truth ever came out, could she ever look
Cain in the eye and say with all sincerity that she'd done her best but
there was nothing that could be done?
   She suddenly found that question more troubling than anything else
she'd been thinking since her arrival.
   Finally, the Chief Medical Officer decided it was time to leave. 
   "Goodbye Sheba," Cassiopeia whispered softly as she then turned away
and left the room.

                   Chapter Five

   There was only a sensation of stunned amazement and disbelief inside
Xavier as the two Pegasus guards led him down the corridor toward the
turbo-lift that would lead to the landing bay, and then, a trip aboard
the shuttle with Troy and Dillon to the Prison Barge.
   He had staked his dream of greatness on a desperate gamble and had
lost.  While he'd assumed right that Cain was interested in the idea of
time travel, he'd failed to consider that the Juggernaut would not find
him useful toward carrying out another effort.
   And now, his miscalculation would lead to the outcome he'd vowed long
ago would never befall him.  He was on his way to a stinking jail cell in
the Prison Barge, where he'd spend the rest of his life among the useless
miscreants of Colonial Society.
   This could not be, he shook his head as he continued to feel the tug
of the guards against his arms.  He was one of the greatest warriors of
the last fifteen yahrens.  A respected member of the Council who's only
crime as he saw it, had been a dream to make Earth a great power capable
of destroying the hated Cylon Empire.
   And now that jackal Cain was going to appropriate that dream of his
for himself.
   A hatred for the Juggernaut filled Xavier, more powerful in rage than
the hatred he had felt in the past for Adama, Troy, Dillon or even Dr.
Zee.  At least he could have a certain respect for them while
simultaneously hating them.  Not so with Cain, who had used him and now
betrayed him.
   He would make him pay for that.
   As the turbo-lift doors drew closer, he channelled his feeling of hate
into all the inner strength he felt capable of mustering.
   And then, Xavier suddenly slammed his body full force against the
guards, knocking them both against the corridor walls.  He dashed over to
the first one lying stunned on the floor and delivered a savage kick
right into his face, knocking him unconscious.
   The renegade spun round and saw the second guard on the opposite side
getting to his feet and reaching for his laser pistol.  Instantly, Xavier
charged him and delivered a kick to the mid-section that slammed the
guard back against the wall and caused him to drop his laser pistol.
   Seconds later, Xavier had delivered another savage kick to the face
that like the first one, left the second guard bleeding and unconscious.
   Grunting in a mixture of satisfaction and determined anger, Xavier
knelt down over the unconscious second guard and with only slight
difficulty removed the device that unlock the shackles.
   After two moments of effort, he finally had them off.
   The renegade knelt down and picked up the two laser pistols.  He had
not yet gotten to his feet when he saw another warrior coming down the
corridor.
   "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" the warrior shouted as he made
a gesture to his pistol.
   Without batting an eye, Xavier shot him right in the chest.  The
warrior collapsed to the floor and made no movement.
   The renegade paused to look at the setting.  It was in the kill mode.
   Well, that was truly the end of the line for him now, he thought
grimly.  He'd now killed a warrior.  There'd be no way of ever drumming
up sympathy among the people now.  And it was all Cain's fault.
   Perhaps if he tried to flee back to Earth, he could have a chance of
living the rest of his life in hiding, but he no longer had the stomach
or taste for that.  The desire for revenge against Cain was all that
mattered now.
   As he got to his feet and entered the turbo-lift, he decided that
there was only one way of achieving that goal, and he knew he had to act
quickly.


   For well over ten centons after the screaming Xavier had been dragged
out of his quarters, Cain found himself looking at the sheet of paper
detailing the procedure on what needed to be done for a time travel
experiment.
   It was a dangerous risk, he conceded to himself.  Something that
almost seemed too dangerous by even his standards.  The potential for
great success was there, but as his old Academy instructor would have
reminded him, it also carried the potential for an even greater tragedy.
   By all the Lords of Kobol, he thought with anguish, has my whole life
and career finally come down to this?
   The practical side of Cain that had made him a brilliant strategic
thinker told him that this idea was too dangerous to consider.  That it
deserved to be discarded for all eternity.
   But the impulsive side of the Juggernaut, that had always made him
eager for action and initiative, was screaming something else at him.
   And the terrible thing about it, was that Cain couldn't come up with a
good reason that would keep his impulsive streak in check.  The only
thing that could do that, was to find something else to devote himself
to.  But with no one left in the Fleet for him to care about, and with no
more battles against the Cylons to fight, it seemed clear that there was
nothing that could get him to hold this terrible desire in check.
   He set the paper down and then took out the holopictures of his wife
and daughter.  The two of them looked so much alike that there was once a
time when a waiter in a Caprica City restaurant had mistaken them for
twin sisters.
   They were the only two people who had ever meant something to him
beyond the world of military strategy and combat.  And they were both
long gone now.
   He'd already come to the conclusion long ago, that it was too late to
renew his relationship with Cassiopeia.  He had expected to find her
sealed after all these yahrens, but it still seemed clear to him that her
heart still belonged to Starbuck.  The feelings she'd once had for him,
like his for her, had to be jettisoned long ago in the interests of
moving on with life.
   Cain let out a sigh and put the holopictures away.  As much as he
didn't want to admit it, it now seemed as though he really didn't have
much of a choice. 
   He'd have to do it.
   As the chime sounded, he was nonchalant in responding, "Yes?"
   "Commander, this is Captain Troy.  Are you finished with Xavier?"
   Cain frowned, "Security should have turned him over to you by now,
Captain."
   There was a mixture of surprise and confusion on the other end.
   "Um...Commander Cain, that's good to know that you decided to turn him
over, but...no one from Security's shown up here."
   "That's not possible, they left ten centons---" he abruptly broke off,
"Oh Lord."
   "Sir?" Troy pressed.
   Cain didn't respond.  He instantly activated the unicom speaker that
overrode all of ship's communications.
   "This is Cain.  All decks are under Security Alert.  I repeat, all
decks are under Security Alert and are to search for an escaped
prisoner."
   And then, the Juggernaut left his quarters at a brisk pace for the
bridge.


   After being cut-off by Cain, Troy had turned back to Dillon with a
perplexed expression, "Did I hear him right?"
   "Yeah," the blonde lieutenant nodded, "And to borrow a phrase from
Jamie, we may have just gone from the frying pan into the fire."
   At that point, Cain's announcement suddenly filled the landing bay.
   "Lords of Kobol, we're right again," Troy shook his head in disbelief,
"Come on.  Let's get to the bridge."


   After appropriating a tan warrior's uniform from a storage locker,
Xavier had allowed himself to relax briefly as he resumed his journey
further into the interior of the Pegasus, determined to carry out what he
felt forced in to doing.
   The renegade quietly mounted an auxiliary ladder that would take him
one deck down to Beta Deck, where he had to make his next visit.  The
Ordnance Section, where all the weapons and explosives were kept.
   Xavier sounded the chime, and as soon as the door opened, he brought
the butt of his pistol squarely against the chin of the boyish-looking
warrior who opened the door.
   "Hey!" the Ordnance Officer seated at the other side of the room
suddenly bolted up from his desk.  But before he could get his pistol
out, a blast from Xavier's gun caught him in the chest and he collapsed
to the floor.
   "Lucky for you I remembered to reset it to stun," Xavier smiled thinly
as he went over to the Ordnance storage compartment and began removing a
number of explosive charge packs.
   As soon as he had all that he could carry, Xavier hurriedly left the
Ordnance room.   Just as he stepped into the corridor, he heard Cain's
voice sounding the alarm throughout the ship.
   Knowing that speed was now of the essence, he began sprinting toward
the auxiliary ladder leading up to Alpha Deck.


   Colonel Skyler instantly snapped to attention when he saw an angry
Cain enter the bridge.
   "Status?" the Juggernaut sourly inquired.
   "The two guards were found badly injured and unconscious.  They're
being treated in the Life Station.  We also found a warrior shot dead. 
Looks as if he just stumbled into the corridor just as the prisoner was
escaping."
   "Damn," Cain gritted his teeth, "That tells us how much of a lunatic
he really is.  All personnel are to have themselves armed at the ready."
   Troy and Dillon arrived just in time to hear the end of the exchange
between Cain and the executive officer.
   "We could have told you right from the outset what kind of a man
Xavier is, Commander," Troy said with the only barest hint of an
I-told-you-so aura in his voice, "Twice before, he's tried to kill us."
   "I had already come to that conclusion after talking with him,
Captain," Cain kept his tone even, "Since your grandfather had not seen
fit to tell me about this renegade, prudence dictated that I find out
more about him."
   "It's important to keep the Launch and Landing Bays sealed off and
armed tight, sir," Dillon spoke up to try and defuse the tension, "You
can't let him have the faintest chance of getting off this ship."
   "Already taken care of," Cain motioned to Skyler, "How many men in
place?"
   "Twelve guards armed in each section."
   "Good," the Juggernaut nodded, "He can't get off this ship.  Now it's
just a matter of smoking him out.  He won't be able to hide forever."
   "Sir, I don't think hiding is what he has in mind," Troy stepped
forward, "Unless he isn't apprehended soon, this battlestar could be in
grave danger."
   "There's very little one man can do to a ship like this, Captain,"
Skyler retorted, "Not after what we've been through the last thirty
yahrens."
   "Commander!" Bridge Officer Jett suddenly called out, "Security
reports Ordnance storage compartments broken into.  At least six high
level charges have been taken."
   "You were saying, Colonel?" Troy gave the executive officer a bitterly
sarcastic look, "If he's got high-level charges and he gets into any one
of three sensitive areas..."
   Cain moved over to Jett's console and picked up the unicom, "This is
Cain.  All security units, assume positions around solium tanks
compartment, main and auxiliary energizer room compartments, and reactor
engines compartment."
   He put the device down and came over to the two Galactica warriors,
"Those are the only three areas where internal explosions could rip this
ship apart.  If we get those areas secure, he can't do a thing with those
charges."
   "Except kill some people and cause some heavy damage," Troy pointed
out.
   As Jett continued to listen through his headset, a pained expression
suddenly came over the Bridge Officer's face and he slowly turned around
to face the Juggernaut.
   "Commander," his tone was grave, "We're too late.  He's in the solium
room.  Two guards spotted him, and he shot both of them unconscious. 
Captain Angus reports that he's sealed himself inside and shorted out the
compartment door control mechanism."
   Expressions of sick horror came over Skyler, Troy and Dillon.
   "Can you override from here?" Cain urgently demanded.
   "Negative, sir."
   The Juggernaut suddenly exploded in rage and slammed his stick against
the railing, "Frack Almighty what kind of a ship am I running here that
let's this happen?"
   "Don't blame your men, sir," Dillon said, "I think this kind of
emergency doesn't qualify as standard, especially when you're dealing
with someone like Xavier."
   "Point taken," Cain calmed slightly, "Jett, put me through to him."
   Jett warily nodded and flicked the switch, "Channel open."
   "Councilman Xavier, this is Cain," the Commander's tone was even and
firm, but his facial expression revealed the tension he felt to everyone
on the bridge, "You cannot succeed in escaping from us.  Surrender
immediately."
   A long, sarcastic laugh of triumph filled the Pegasus bridge, "You
must be joking Commander.  You're in no position to make me do anything. 
I am totally secure in this room, and I have with me six high level
charges that when detonated against these lovely, full solium tanks, will
do in a micron what seven hundred yahrens of combat against the Cylons
haven't been able to do to this great ship."
   "Now you listen to me, you gallmonging lunatic," Cain suddenly stopped
being placid, "If you think you can get away with this stunt, you're
really mistaken."     
   "No Commander," Xavier's voice taunted, "I'm afraid you're the one who
made the mistake when you decided to toss me back to the outstretched
arms of Captain Troy and Lieutenant Dillon.  After all that I have given
of my life to serving the Colonial nation, I refuse to spend the rest of
my yahrens as a prisoner mixed with the worthless scum who should have
been left to die yahrens ago.  And because of that Commander, I have no
qualms whatsoever about destroying your ship.  Unless you, Adama and the
Council agree to my immediate demands."
   "It'll be a cold day in Hades before I ever deal with you," the
Juggernaut spat.
   "Commander," Troy's voice grew urgent, "Don't antagonize him now. 
Find out what he wants."
   "You talk to him," Cain looked at him coldly, "I won't."
   "Commander, this is not the time for pride to dictate our response!"
Troy raised his voice, "This ship is moored so close to the Fleet that if
he sets those charges off, he'll not only kill us, but he'll conceivably
take out a dozen other ships too.  That's more than two thousand lives at
stake!"     
   Cain slowly let out an exasperated sigh and finally nodded.
   "All right Xavier," he said calmly as he resumed the conversation with
the renegade, "What is it you want?"
   "Total amnesty," the Councilman's voice was firm, "A full pardon of
all offenses which the Council unjustly convicted me for.  Also, a pledge
of amnesty for the unfortunate death of the warrior I shot in the
corridor."
   "Is that it?" Cain tried to keep the disdain in his voice to a faint
level.
   "No," the way Xavier talked indicated to everyone who could hear him
that the renegade was smiling with contemptuous triumph, "I also think,
my dear Cain, it might be wise if you agree to publicize the full details
of the conversation you and I had in your chambers not long ago."
   Cain abruptly stiffened, and it didn't go unnoticed by Troy and
Dillon.
   "How much time are you giving us?" the Juggernaut finally responded in
a considerably softer tone.
   "Two centars," Xavier said flatly, "Not a micron more.  And don't even
think of blowing the compartment door with charges to try and rush me. 
My eyes are staying locked on it, and the instant I see something like
that happen, I push the button that sets off the charges."
   "Understood," Cain exhaled, "I will be contacting Adama and the
Council immediately."
   "Sound thinking, Commander.  I await our next conversation with much
anticipation."
   A clicking sound indicated that the channel had been shut off.
   "Frack, felgercarb and shit," Cain swatted his stick against the
railing again, "He thinks he can get away with it, but he won't."
   "Shall I notify the Galactica, sir?" Skyler found it difficult to
maintain his normal level of efficiency.
   Cain slowly shook his head, "Negative," he said, "There will be no
deal."
   "Now wait just a micron!" Troy suddenly came up so that he was only
inches from the Pegasus commander, "You have to notify Commander Adama
and the Council and let him know about this!"
   "I said there will be no deal, Captain!" the Juggernaut shouted back,
"I am not going to go down as the first battlestar commander who ever
submitted to gutless blackmail from a lunatic!  We're going to stall that
gallmonging daggit for a centar, and then we take him out."
   "And risk the lives of everyone on this ship, and other innocent
people in the Fleet?" Troy refused to be intimidated by the Living
Legend.
   "I will not be endangering any innocent lives, Captain," Cain gritted
his teeth and motioned to Skyler, "Have the helm put some distance
between us and the rest of the Fleet, immediately."
   "Yes sir," Skyler nodded and went over to the helm console on the
lower level of the bridge.
   "And what about all of the people on board this ship, Commander?" Troy
retorted, "Are you willing to play with their lives just for the sake of
your professional pride?"
   "My men already went through three yahrens of risks greater than this
when I first met you thirty yahrens ago, Captain, and you were just a
little boy trailing your father with your pet daggit," Cain said with
contempt, "And in thirty yahrens since, they've learned a lot more about
facing down some tough risks, and this is no different from any of
those."
   For a moment, Troy was taken aback by the reference to his childhood
and Dillon briefly feared that his friend would punch the Juggernaut in
the nose.
   Fortunately, Troy regained his self-control and then posed a question
that he knew would let him regain the initiative.
   "Why is he anxious about publicizing the conversation you had with
him?" he asked pointedly, "Is that the reason why you're not even
contacting the Galactica about this?"
   Cain smiled thinly and shook his head, "There's nothing I have to say
about it.  I listened to his grievances, and came to the conclusion that
your assessment of him as a dangerous traitor was correct."
   "Did you do a lot of talking about time travel, Commander?" Dillon
cautiously moved forward and entered the discussion, "Was that the nature
of the conversation?"
   "The subject came up, but it's hardly a relevant one at this time,"
Cain remained cool, "Seeing as how you've had a vested interest in Xavier
for some time now, would you be interested in assisting me on the plan I
have for subduing him?"
   "Sir, I must insist on notifying the Galactica about this situation. 
I'm certainly not in favor of giving in to Xavier's demands, but they
have to be told about this so a more effective plan can be formulated."
   "As I said to you earlier, Captain, this is my ship," the Juggernaut
said, "And this falls under the category of a local crisis to be handled
only by local authority.  Now you and the Lieutenant have the option of
assisting me, or resuming your wait in the Landing Bay until the present
situation is ended.  Which shall it be?"
   Troy looked about at the bridge crew of the Pegasus in frustration. 
Their cold glances were aimed squarely at him, and that told him that
there was no point in appealing to them.  More than thirty yahrens of
service with Cain had cemented their loyalty and reverent feeling to the
Juggernaut for eternity.
   "Very well, Commander," he said with defeated resignation, "What is
your plan?"
   Cain suddenly smiled and patted him on the back, "That's more like it,
Captain.  I'll show you just how it will work."
   As he guided Troy and Dillon over to the computer terminals on the
upper level of the bridge, the Galactica warriors almost felt as though
they'd become prisoners themselves.



   "Commander," Colonel Boomer said as Adama entered the Galactica's
bridge, "I'm glad you're here because it seems like something strange is
going on with the Pegasus."
   "What do you mean?" the Galactica Commander frowned.
   "Take a look," the executive officer motioned to the computer dcanner,
"She's suddenly moved out of her convoy position and is putting some
distance between herself and the rest of the Fleet.  And about a centar
ago, they sent us a message out-of-the-blue asking for some general
information about who Xavier is."
   "Troy and Dillon must have passed the Security alert information on to
them," Adama said, "Probably nothing important there.  But has she
explained why she's moving out of position?"
   "That's just it, sir," Boomer said, "They've suddenly shut themselves
up like a Canceran clam.  They sent out a terse message saying their
Landing Bays were closed for now, and every ship that's tried to raise
them since is either not getting through, or is getting a quick runaround
of 'stand-by for now.'"
   Adama lifted an eyebrow as he tried to ponder that information,
"You're right that does sound odd.  Especially since Cain is due here for
the Council meeting in less than a centar.  Try raising them on com-line
Alpha."
   "I tried it a centon ago, sir," Boomer said, "Cain's shut that
frequency off on his end."
   The Galactica commander fell silent and then slowly went over to the
other end of the bridge's upper deck.
   "I'm going to have to continue with preparations for the Council
meeting, Boomer," he said, "Let me know when he makes contact again."
   And with that, the Commander left the bridge, trying to summon all the
optimistic logical explanations he could think of to explain this latest
set of events.


   "Xavier's made one fatal mistake by locking himself in the solium
room," Cain said as he pointed to the Pegasus blueprints, "And that's the
one we're going to exploit."
   "How?" Dillon frowned as he and a downcast Troy hunched over the
computer.
   "Over the last thirty yahrens, we've made some significant alterations
to this ship from the normal battlestar layout," Cain ran his hand over
one section, "One of them, was removing four empty storage compartment
facilities here, directly under the bridge, as well as six others aft and
below, and replacing them with wider duct vent lines big enough to
accomodate a man."
   "Enabling the duct lines to double as an auxiliary escape tube leading
to and from the bridge," Troy noted, "Ingenious sir, but why did you
decide you needed to make such an alteration?"
   "To provide an alternate route of access to a compartment on Alpha
Deck cut off by a fire zone," Cain said, "Thank the Lords we've never had
to put it into effect for that purpose, but it seems as though it can
serve a purpose here."
   "I see," Troy nodded, "Xavier, not knowing that a man can reach the
solium room through the ducts, would theoretically be caught off guard."
   "Now you know why I wasn't anxious to cut a quick deal, Captain."
   Do I really? Troy silently thought to himself.
   "If Xavier is holding a detonator sir, we'd be taking a big risk even
going through there," Dillon pointed out.
   "All you have to do is position yourself in front of the duct opening
and take him out with one shot," Cain said firmly, "One clean shot is all
we need."
   "And one clean shot could even cause him to squeeze the detonator as
he collapses to the floor," Troy said skeptically, "There are too many
potential dangers involved."
   "Do you have a better suggestion, Captain?" Cain retorted.
   "Yes, I do," he looked him in the eye, "Notify the Galactica and try
to carry negotiations to a point where we get him out of the room. 
There'll be time to nab him later."
   "You've had four yahrens to apprehend him, and you only had a chance
at him because he decided to come out in the open," Cain retorted gently,
"The time to rid the Fleet of this menace is now.  And that's what we're
going to do."
   Troy slowly exhaled, "Very well Commander, if that decision 
is final, then I am at this point voluteering to go in that duct myself."
   "Likewise," Dillon chimed in, "Not that we don't trust your men, sir,
but given the sentiment over the death of one of your warriors, one of
them might forget to leave their pistol setting on stun."
   "That's agreeable to me," Cain nodded, "If you're willing to do it,
you might as well get started now."
   He then motioned to the wide duct opening at the other end of the
bridge.
   "A straight shot right to his hiding place," Cain said, "Nail that
gallmonging slime's ass to the wall."
   As Troy and Dillon started moving toward it, the captain turned around
and said with a crooked, mirthless smile, "Well Commander, if we don't, I
think you'll have exactly one millimicron to realize that we failed
before the explosion overtakes you."
   

   Xavier calmly placed the last of his six high-level charges on the
solium tanks, and then flicked the switch on the detonator cartridge. 
The green light came on, indicating that it was active.
   All the renegade had to do now was press one button, and the oldest
surviving battelestar of the Colonial Fleet would go up with the power of
a supernova.
   He had reached the point where he no longer had any consideration for
the moral consequences of his actions.  The more he thought about it, the
more he realized that his lingering concern for moral rightness had been
the key to his downfall.  If he hadn't shown such pathetic remorse over
the barbarousness of the Nazi regime, then Cain might very well have
treated him differently.  If he'd just emphasized that he'd been trying
to help an Earth regime that offered ordered stability and discipline,
that might have impressed the Juggernaut.  Given Cain's ignorance of
Earth history, he'd surely have been able to make that argument stick for
a long enough time.
   But no, he'd thought that if he'd admitted his fault in one area, Cain
would at least respect come away with more understanding for him. 
Instead, it just gave Cain the excuse to double-cross him.  And that was
something he'd never forgive.
   Which was why he'd demanded that Cain be forced to reveal that he was
thinking of going ahead with the time travel scheme in spite of turning
him over.  At least the Juggernaut wouldn't be given the satisfaction of
stealing the dream of an Earth Empire for himself.
   He began to calmly pace across the area twenty feet from the
compartment door entrance, holding the detonator tight in his right hand
and keeping his eyes on the door.  The slightest sound indicating an
attempt to open the door would lead him to press it, and end things right
there.
   He absently fondled the detonator and found himself smiling.  The
sheer feeling of total power it conveyed to him was exhilarating.  To
know that he controlled the fates of a thousand people in the palm of his
hand offered at the very least, a taste of the kind of power he had hoped
to achieve for himself.
   Knowing that, made him feel more sure that he was prepared to die with
a clear conscience.

 
   With Troy in the lead position, the two Galactican warriors both found
themselves crawling on their stomachs inside the  escape duct that would
lead them to the solium room.
   "Somebody tell me I'm dreaming," Dillon said, "This is not how I
planned on taking my first tour of the Pegasus."
   "Keep quiet," Troy whispered as he held his pistol in front of him,
"If we talk, we could tip him off.  We've got to take it real slow and
gentle."
   It took them almost ten centons to crawl more than one hundred and
fifty feet across, before the duct suddenly snaked around and into a
downward drop.
   "Whoa," Troy whispered as he came to a stop, "I need to reorient
myself.  I'd forgotten that the tanks being one deck below bridge level
would mean a vertical drop."
   The captain squinted ahead and noticed that there were rungs for
climbing on the vertical section.  He then peered down and caught a
glimpse in the distance of the round opening that led straight into the
solium room.
   "Say a prayer, buddy," Troy grabbed the first rung, "We're going to
need all the Divine protection we can get."
   The two warriors slowly climbed down the rungs, watching the light
from the solium room grow brighter and brighter as the opening loomed
closer.
   Ten feet from the opening, Troy stopped and held up a hand motioning
Dillon to stop as well.  They stood there frozen and could hear the sound
of footsteps.
   And then, the two of them caught a glimpse of Xavier passing beneath
them, holding the detonator in his right hand.  Five seconds later, he
passed beneath them again, as he resumed his pacing in the other
direction across the compartment room.
   Don't let him look up, Troy silently prayed.  Please dear God, don't
let him look up when he comes by again.
   It was clear that there was no way of getting off a clear shot at the
renegade.  That would only work if Xavier came to a stop beneath them,
and even then, their position inside the duct was too awkward to
guarantee success.
   It had come down to one move.  One move that had to pay off.
   Troy could hear the footsteps again as Xavier began another round of
pacing across the room.  In seconds, he would pass beneath him again. 
This had to be timed just right.  As the steps grew louder, Troy started
a mental countdown.
   Five.  Four.  Three.  Two.  One.
   As Xavier came by beneath the duct again, Troy suddenly jumped off the
rungs and landed directly on top of the renegade's head, causing them to
crash hard to the floor.
   Troy had an instant to see that the detonator, as he'd hoped, had been
jarred loose from Xavier's hand, clattering across the floor.  By then,
the renegade had overcome his initial shock and suddenly threw his arms
around Troy's neck in a choking gesture.
   The Galactica warrior felt the air being cut off, and felt himself on
the verge of gagging.  It took a burst of inner strength to deliver a
pounding blow to Xavier's chest that got the renegade to relax his grip
from his neck.  But during the struggle, Troy lost hold of his laser
pistol, and it too, clattered off to one side.
   Alertly, Dillon dropped to the floor behind the struggle with his
pistol at the ready.
   "Get the detonator!" Troy screamed as he continued to struggle with
Xavier on the floor, "Get it!" 
   "No!" Xavier screamed in anguish that he'd been thwarted again, "No!"
he tried to work his way loose from Troy's grasp and then managed to slam
the captain's head against one of the nearby solium tanks, causing Troy
to black out.
   Freed, the renegade got to his feet.  He saw Dillon leaning down to
pick up the detonator and suddenly charged him like a wild animal,
crashing full force into the blonde lieutenant.
   Dillon was hurled against the compartment door, and a blow to the arm
from Xavier then caused him to drop his own laser pistol.  When he saw
the renegade turn and make another move for the detonator, he managed to
reach out and grab Xavier by the leg, dragging him down before he could
get hold of the device.
   Dillon had to hold on to him with all his strength, knowing that if he
let go, that would be the end of it.  But with the sting from Xavier's
blow to the right arm seconds before, he knew he couldn't hang on
indefinitely.
   "Troy!" he shouted, "Troy!"
   The brief unconsciousness wore off, and a groggy Troy opened his eyes
in horror to see his friend clutching at Xavier's leg, while the renegade
was struggling to get the device that lay only three feet beyond his
extended reach.
   An intense fury filled Troy, as he spotted his laser pistol, grabbed
it, and fired right at Xavier's head.
   The renegade instantly went limp, and Dillon heaved a sigh of relief
as he let go and deflated against the door.
   Troy wearily got to his feet, picked up the detonator, and gingerly
turned the activation switch off.  The red light went on, indicating that
it was on safe.
   "Thank God," Dillon said aloud, "Thank God."
   "All over," Troy sighed as he pocketed the detonator, "It's all over."
   He then took a look at his laser pistol and did a wide-eyed double
take.
   "Holy Frack," he said.
   "What?" Dillon got to his feet.
   Troy shook his head with incredulity, "When this thing fell away from
me during the struggle, the stun mode was switched off."
   Dillon's eyes also widened and he took a slow, long look at the limp,
motionless form of Xavier.
   "Well," he slowly shook his head, "Not the way I would have preferred
it, but to borrow another phrase of Jamie's, it served the son-of-a-bitch
right."


   "Everything's secure, Commander," Troy reported several minutes later
over the intercom, "The plan worked like a charm."
   "Excellent," the Juggernaut smiled, "I knew you'd come through,
Captain.  You upheld your family honor beautifully."
   "Thank you, sir," Troy carefully hid the disdain from his voice.
   "What about Xavier?"
   "Killed in the struggle."
   "Well, I know you wanted him alive, but a lunatic like that deserved
to die," Cain said, "We'll blow open the door to get you out and then
dispose of him."
   "Sir, what sort of report am I to give to Commander Adama?"
   "The simple truth," Cain said, "I'll be notifying him personally in a
few centons and explain what happened.  In the meantime, you and
Lieutenant Dillon can return to the Galactica, and when I meet with the
Council later, I'll see to it that you both get put down for decoration."
   As Cain moved away from the bridge intercom, he realized that in spite
of Xavier's death, Troy and Dillon already had enough suspicions about
what he and the renegade had discussed.
   That meant if he was to go ahead with the terrible decision of time
travel that he'd already decided on earlier, he was going to have to beat
them to it and raise the matter directly with Adama.
   If he was lucky, maybe Adama would agree to go along with him.
   And if he was luckier, Adama might find a reason to talk him out of
it.

                  Chapter Five

   As the Council of Twelve gathered and waited for Adama to begin the
meeting, the Galactica commander felt a large measure of relief that
there would be no controversies this time with any of the hotheads like
Sire Darcy or Sire Kort over Earth policy.  This time, all of them were
united in exhilaration over the return of Cain, and were anxious to meet
with and hear from the Juggernaut.
   Adama was still waiting for word of Cain's arrival, so the various
Council members passed the time with idle chatter amongst themselves.  At
his end of the table though, his old friend Sire Tigh was much more
cautious.
   "I've been doing a lot of wondering, Adama," the former executive
officer said, "Do you really think Cain has changed much in the last
thirty yahrens?"
   His old friend shrugged, "I'm still not sure, just yet."
   "You think he can finally work within our system after thirty yahrens
of being his boss?" there was a good deal of caution in Tigh's voice,
"For some reason, I keep thinking back to the way I remember him during
that whole flap over Gomorrah, and I keep wondering if he's going to
start causing the same trouble again."
   "I wouldn't be sure of that, Tigh," Adama gently reproached, "After
all, it's not as though there's any other rash option he could take.  The
added factor of Earth, means taking on the Cylons is totally out of the
question, and I think he knows that this time."
   "Perhaps," Tigh admitted, "But I still can't help but think that this
Council meeting is going to see him drop some kind of bombshell."
   Adama decided not to pursue the matter.  In light of Tigh's
skepticism, he didn't want to start dwelling on the strange silence that
had come over the Pegasus and see his own feelings of unease reignited.
   The intercom from the bridge suddenly chimed, and Adama answered it,
"Yes?"
   "Sir, we've finally got a message from Commander Cain," Boomer said,
"He requests a postponement of the Council meeting for at least two
centars."
   Adama frowned, "Did he say why?"
   "He says he'd like to have another private talk with you first, sir."
   The commander and the former executive officer both exchanged puzzled
glances.  Some of the other Council members listening in began to frown
as well.
   "When can I expect him?" Adama chose his next words carefully.
   "Uh...well sir, he says he wants to talk privately via scan, not in
person."
   "Boomer," he finally spoke, "Tell him that this is highly irregular. 
It would be much more convenient for all of us if he were here
personally, if he has anything he wants to discuss first."
   "He says he can't do it any other way, Commander."
   Adama turned to Tigh, who like him, also had a suspicious look on his
face.
   Even so, the former executive officer decided to keep his impulsive
thoughts in check, "Adama, maybe you'd better do it.  No sense in getting
things off on the wrong foot with him if it turns out to be nothing
much."
   After a moment's reflection, the commander nodded.
   "Very well, Boomer," Adama said with equal parts gentleness and
firmness, "Tell him I will await his message in my quarters."
   As the commander got to his feet, he looked back at Tigh, "Old friend,
let's both hope something terrible hasn't started."   


   Ten centons later, Adama was seated at his desk, anxiously awaiting
for the chime to sound.  Past experience should have told him that Cain's
return would inevitably bring its share of troubles, but he'd hoped it
wouldn't have had to come up again so soon.
   Finally, he heard the chime sound and he switched on the monitor
screen on his table.  In an instant, it was filled by the subdued face of
the Juggernaut, who appeared to seated at his own desk in his own
quarters.
   "Hello Adama," Cain's voice was cordial and polite, "Thank you for
agreeing to this.  I didn't think it would be appropriate for now to talk
in front of the whole Council."
   "Because you feared a controversy, Commander?" Adama decided to be
cautious.
   "Adama," the Juggernaut didn't let himself be fazed by the edge of
authority that had entered his friend's voice, "Please don't be
antagonistic.  I just need you to hear me out."
   Adama sighed and settled back in his chair, "I'm sorry, Cain.  Go
ahead."
   "Adama, I have some good new to tell you first, and I think your
grandson and Lieutenant Dillon should be arriving soon with fuller
details.  But your old colleague Xavier decided to come out of hiding and
pay me a visit."
   Instantly, the Galactica commander bolted up, "What?"
   "Yes," Cain nodded, "He evidently thought he could get me to join his
side and use me as leverage to win his freedom back.  But after listening
to him, and hearing how he was fool enough to give support to an Earth
regime even he admitted was barbaric, I knew that simple ethics dictated
that I turn him over."
   Adama was in a state of shock and amazement, "So you tuned him over?"
   Cain chuckled, "Well...I ordered that, but then Xavier had other
ideas."
   "What do you mean?"
   The Juggernaut then spent the next five centons explaining what had
happened aboard the Pegasus.
   "Good Lord," Adama's stunned shock deepened, "He came that close to
destroying you and you never notified me?"
   "I had the situation under control, Adama," Cain said nonchalantly,
"There was no need to alarm you."
   "Even though you put my grandson's life at risk?" a note of anger
crept into the Galactica commander's voice.
   "Yes, well I'm sorry about that.  But you should be proud of him,
Adama.  He handled himself beautifully."
   "I am proud of him," Adama decided that it was best not to come down
harshly on Cain since things had worked out for the best, "And I suppose
in the long-run I have to thank you for helping rid us of the man who's
been our biggest problem since we discovered Earth."
   "I'm glad of that," Cain seemed to be choosing his words very
carefully, "And I hope that my doing that, will convince you that my only
intent is to do what's right for our people."
   There was something in the tone of the Juggernaut's voice that caused
Adama's unease to reignite, "What do you mean, Cain?"
   "Adama," Cain sighed, "Before this whole Xavier business happened, I
spent two centars going over all the scan data on Earth history.  And I
have come to the conclusion that no matter how odious a person Xavier
was, and no matter how much he deserved the treason conviction you gave
him, his basic aim is nonetheless the one we have to pursue."
   Adama felt as if he'd taken a blow to the stomach.  His worst fear had
already come true.
   "Xavier's approach was reckless, impulsive and wrong," Cain continued,
"But Adama, with your help, and with the right amount of preparation, we
can pull it off.  We can make the Snowball Effect work to our advantage. 
And then, when all is said and done we'll finally be able to blast the
whole Cylon Empire into infinity."
   Adama was silent for a moment before responding.  When he finally
spoke, he decided it was best to be gentle.
   "Cain," he said, "I understand why you find the idea so attractive.  I
acknowledge your good intentions.  But Cain, please, in the name of
everything that is holy, drop the idea.  The risk of our inadvertently
causing an accident that could lead to the very outcome Xavier would have
created, is simply too great."
   "Adama," the Juggernaut was equally gentle, "Your pessimism is
understandable, but misplaced.  You and I are men who have been trained
to formulate and plot strategies down to the last detail. We're not
simple-minded fools like Xavier.  Together, we can do it."
   "How?" Adama retorted, "Cain, I've spent the last four yahrens
studying Earth history and there isn't any leader in her history that I'd
be willing to entrust technology like ours to.  Not even the good and
benevolent leaders.  The temptation to use those weapons in the name of
creating a despotism would be too great."
   "Not if we find a way to keep them in line."
   "And the only way we could do that is to act as despots ourselves,"
the Galactica commander shot back, "All we would be inviting is bloodshed
between them and us."
   "Adama," Cain said gently, "Give me some time, and I can formulate a
plan that would work.  And together, with your additional knowledge of
Earth history, we can leave no stone unturned and guarantee success.  The
Snowball Effect is a dangerous enemy to deal with, but it has a fifty
percent chance of leading to a better outcome, and I say that with minds
like yours and mine, we are the ones who can beat the Snowball Effect." 
   "And if I refuse your offer, then what?" the Galactica commander
raised his voice, "Can I then expect a repeat performance of your regard
for orders at Gomorrah?"
   Cain skipped a beat before responding, and for a brief flash, Adama
could see an almost desperate look come over his face.
   "Don't put me into that position, Adama," he said, "Because if you'd
only listen to reason, you'd see that this time, I'm right and you're
wrong."
   Adama sadly shook his head, "Cain, as much as I wish that it could be
done, there are too many ethical factors at work.  Whether we like to
admit it or not, even a more favorable outcome means that in some small
way, we will end up affecting the lives of some Earth inhabitants for the
worst.  There will be some innocent people who will die, or who will
never have been born as the result of any action we take in the past, and
that's an ethical dilemma that I for one wish no part of."
   "Where would we have been militarily if there hadn't been some people
willing to die for a good cause, Adama?" Cain retorted.
   "If it were our own people we were talking about, then I might see
your point better," Adama said, "But when it comes to the people of
Earth, that's another matter entirely.  Cain, the simple fact of history
is that Earth is not yet ready to confront us as their lost brothers of
Kobol.  Right now, there's almost nothing of our civilization that can be
found in Earth archeology, let alone society, and we are dealing with a
population that has to be given no more than a gentle push in the right
direction from us."
   "Adama, that is not acceptable to me," the Juggernaut's voice grew
cold for the first time, "Right now, there are four Cylon basestars
waiting outside scanner range for something to happen.  If we didn't have
them on our heels, then I could see your position better.  But in your
desire for caution, you've forgotten one thing."
   "Have I?" Adama refused to be intimidated.
   "You're forgetting that for the last thirty yahrens, the Cylons have
been swallowing up the entire known universe in our wake.  You know what
they did to the Delphians, and I can attest that there are other races
that have been exterminated as a result of their conquest.  And all of
this done in a thirty yahren span.  What sort of menace will we be
leaving our grandchildren to deal with in a hundred yahrens if we keep
letting them do that?  Hades Hole, Adama, in a hundred yahrens we might
have Earth to the level she should be at now, but by then, we'll just be
another hundred yahrens, perhaps more from what the Cylons are by then."
   A powerful point, Adama silently conceded.  But the technologies left
to the Galactica by Dr. Zee had long since negated that concern.
   "Cain, you're wrong about that, and if you'd read the data tapes
carefully about what we ourselves are developing as a result of new
breakthroughs, not just in the time travel capability, you'd already know
that."
   The Juggernaut was silent, and Adama again saw that brief flash of
uneasiness come over Cain's face.  He realized that he'd made his point,
and decided to play a mild hunch he was forming.
   "Cain, I'm getting the distinct impression that you're grasping for an
excuse to go ahead with what you know is a dangerously foolhardy
endeavor."
   "So what if I am?" Cain's voice was uncharacteristically quiet, "So
what if I am?  Adama, the way things stand now, I have nothing else left
in my life to care about except for making one last attempt to turn the
tide in this war.  I can't have my career end like this."
   "You are free to leave the Fleet and go back to what you've been doing
for the last thirty yahrens," Adama said pointedly, "If you feel that
dying in a blaze of glory must be your destiny, I won't stop you from
doing that."
   Cain suddenly smiled and let out a chuckle.
   "Adama, I think you're bright enough to know that if I even tried it,
I'd invite a mutiny from my own crew.  One of the reasons why I came back
was for their sakes too, and they'd lynch me if I did an about-face on
that."
   "But would your crew agree to an unauthorized scheme for time travel?"
the Galactica commander gently retorted.
   Cain skipped a beat, "They are prepared to."
   "I see," Adama settled back in his chair with a neutral expression,
"Then I may interpret what you have just said as a threat to go ahead
with such a scheme, if it is not approved by the Council?"
   "If you want to characterize it as such," Cain was firm.
   "How would you even know what to do?"
   "Councilman Xavier was most cooperative in telling me the procedure,
Adama," Cain said, "That was before he realized I planned on turning him
over to you."
   And which no doubt caused him to try and destroy the Pegasus, Adama
silently mused.
   "I think the steps he outlined shouldn't be difficult for any of us,"
Cain continued, "Once we've decided the place where this will work best,
then I'll do it.  At this point in my life, there's nothing else left for
me to care about other than trying to win this war."
   "You still have Cassiopeia to think of," Adama pointed out, trying
desperately to think of another plan of attack.
   The Juggernaut slowly shook his head, "Adama, as much as I care for
her well-being, too much time's elapsed for us to have any kind of
meaningful relationship.  We both had to learn to let go of our feelings
for each other a long time ago.  The way things are now, I'd only be
competing against the ghost of Starbuck, and that's something I prefer
not to do."
   Adama slowly felt his heart begin to sink.  It was now becoming clear
to him that if he were to think of something that would get Cain's mind
off this dangerous scheme, he might very well have to do something that
could conceivably defuse a crisis situation...only at great emotional
cost to both Cain and himself.
   Especially himself.
   "Cain," he started then abruptly stopped.
   "Yes?" the Juggernaut frowned as he saw Adama's expression.
   Slowly, Adama cleared his throat, "Cain....if you will give me one
centar to consult with the Council, and then let me notify you again,
will you at least give me your solemn oath on the Book of the Word that
you will do nothing before hand?"
   Cain continued to frown and looked Adama directly in the eye over the
video screen.
   "Very well," he said, "So long as you give me your word that you will
not relieve me of command or send over a boarding party."
   "I do," Adama nodded fervently, "I think this can be worked out, Cain. 
I'll contact you in one centar."
   As soon as the Galactica commander flicked off the switch that entered
his conversation with Cain, he immediately flicked another one.
   "Dr. Cassiopeia, please report to my quarters for priority meeting."


   Fifteen centons later, a stunned Cassiopeia had arrived, along with
Troy and Dillon, who had come by to report on the Xavier incident.
   "Essentially it's a threat to use the time travel method himself, no
matter what the Council decides," Adama said grimly.
   "I figured as much," Troy said with disgust, "No wonder he was anxious
to act so boldly against Xavier.  If Dillon and I hadn't caught on to
that, he probably never would have contacted you, and just done it in the
dead of night."
   "If he plans on going ahead with it Commander, we're prepared to try
and stop him," Dillon said.
   "No," Adama shook his head, "We can't let it come to that.  Cain has
to be stopped from thinking he has to make such an attempt."
   "I'm beginning to get an idea of what you mean," Cassiopeia spoke up,
"You think maybe you should finally tell him the truth about Sheba?"
   "Why would that stop him from going ahead with a time travel scheme?"
Dillon frowned.
   "Because I really don't think Cain's heart is in it," Adama absently
rubbed his chin, "Cain's brilliant enough to know what the risks are to
history, and I think he's only going ahead with this because as far as
he's concerned he's got nothing else to lose as far as his own life
goes."
   "So telling him about Sheba would give him reason to pull back?" a
slightly bitter Troy sounded unconvinced, "Grandfather, with all due
respect, telling him that his daughter's been locked away in the Nuthouse
for sixteen yahrens could push him over the edge completely.  He'd
probably high-tail it into Earth's past the micron he finds out."
   "You're wrong Troy," Cassiopeia gently chided, "I know Cain.  If we
could tell him in a way that would make him think that there's a chance
to cure Sheba, he'd drop everything to rush to her and help."
   "But there is no chance of that ever happening, Cassiopeia," Adama
sadly pointed out, "And if it became obvious to him after a while that we
lied to him about that, God only knows what he might do next.  That's why
it's not as simple a decision as it might seem."
   "There's too much risk, Grandfather," Troy said, "You have to publicly
expose Cain now, if he plans on doing something rash.  I'll be glad to
get Blue Squadron ready and we can have the Pegasus secured so no ship
could get off and think of making a time travel run."
   "Wait a micron," Dillon protested, as he felt taken aback by what his
friend was saying, "Wait a micron, having our vipers threaten to open
fire on the Pegasus strikes me as a bit rash.  And suppose Cain decides
to take the whole battlestar on a run into the past?  Are we then
supposed to launch a missile on her to prevent that from happening?"
   "My God, would you listen to yourselves?" Cassiopeia suddenly threw up
her arms in disgust, "This is already getting out-of-control, Adama.  The
choice is obvious.  Tell Cain the truth.  Give him something more
tangible to believe in, and that's the possibility of helping his
daughter recover.  He'd gladly spend the rest of his life helping her if
it were possible, and would never give another thought to time travel as
his only reason for living."
   "If only there was a hope," Adama sighed, "That's what's holding me
back."
   "And there's no hope," Troy was emphatic, "No hope.  The whole story
has to stay buried because it could only make things worse."
   The Chief Medical Officer suddenly glared at Troy with contempt, "For
who, Boxey?" she put considerable emphasis on Troy's old name that he had
long-ago come to despise, "For Cain, or for you and the Commander?"
   Dillon found himself swallowing uneasily as he saw Adama come upright
in his chair, glowering with anger, while his grandson seemed ready to
explode.
   "I've always found it incredible that a man of your faith, of your
great vision gave up on Sheba so easily," Cassiopeia refused to let-up as
she looked Adama in the eye, "Tell me something Adama, did you give up
because you're afraid of what might happen if she ever did recover?"
   "What's that supposed to mean?" Adama's voice was calm, but the anger
was unmistakable, "Sheba was family to me.  She was going to be my
daughter-in-law."
   "Yes," Cassiopeia nodded, "She was.  She loved Apollo, and this
tragedy happened when she and Apollo went off on that mission, that he
never came back from.  She is the only person who knows exactly what
happened to Apollo, and the knowledge of what that is could very well be
the thing that drove her into insanity."
   Dillon's eyes bulged in astonishment.
   "Troy," he said, "You never told me that they'd been on that mission
together.  You just said that her breakdown was a reaction to your
father's disappearance."
   Cassiopeia looked at the blonde lieutenant with dark amusement, "In
that case Dillon, you know a lot less than you ever realized."
   The Chief Medical Officer then looked back at Adama and Troy who'd
remained silent, "I think the two of you are afraid of ever learning the
truth about what really happened to Apollo.  I don't care how cruel that
sounds, but if you've both been willing to let Sheba suffer the way she
has for sixteen yahrens just so you can be shielded from the horror of
what she was probably exposed to, then you're not going to get any
sympathy from me."
   Adama seemed intimidated by her remarks, and said nothing.
   His grandson was still holding his ground though, "You're the Chief
Medical Officer, Cassiopeia," he said, "Any hope of curing Sheba was your
department's responsibility, not mine and certainly not the Commander's."
   She vigorously shook her head and kept her attention on Adama, "I
could have put a greater deal of effort into it, if I'd pushed you on it. 
But given the nature of your orders covering the whole affair up, I
really wasn't left with much choice.  Devoting too much attention to her
case would have meant publicizing the incident at some point, because I
would have needed at least a dozen people assisting me, and there never
would have been a way of keeping things secret if it came to that.  Admit
it Adama.  You covered this whole thing up, declared Sheba dead and made
me lock her away with the name of a former socialator colleague of mine
just to keep your mind at ease about what happened to Apollo."
  "You're going way out of line, Doctor," Troy said with anger and
contempt.  But before he could continue, his grandfather suddenly held up
a hand.
   "No Troy, let it drop.  She's right."
   Troy was stunned and fell silent.  At the other side of the room,
Dillon's bewildered amazement only increased.
   The commander let out a sad sigh of regret, "I've never consciously
admitted this to anyone, but it's true.  I have been afraid of learning
what happened to Apollo, especially since..." he awkwardly trailed off
for a moment, "Especially since he was the one of my three children I was
closest to.  Just thinking of him as killed in action on a dangerous
mission at a time when we lost so many other brave warriors was the only
way I thought I could cope with things at the time.  I needed to bury it
so much that I never even told Dr. Zee about Sheba."
   "And he probably could have come up with a way of curing her, if you
had let him devote some time to her," Dillon suddenly spoke up.
   "Yes," Adama faintly nodded.
   "Your sanity and Troy's at Sheba's expense, and Cain's," Cassiopeia
only partially mellowed her tone, "You weren't thinking of his well-being
when you lied to him.  You knew that his first instinct would be to drop
every other responsibility he has and spend the rest of his life trying
to cure her, just as you know that's going to be his first instinct when
you tell him now.  Once he knows, he's going to forget all about
time-travel."
   Adama silently looked up, first at Troy, who's expression had grown
pensive and contemplative, and then at Cassiopeia and Dillon.
   The Galactica commander then cleared his throat and pressed the
intercom, "Boomer, put me through to Commander Cain on direct scan now."
   Cassiopeia found herself letting out a sigh of relief.  She knew that
the conversation that was about to begin would not be pleasant, and she
knew it was going to be emotionally rough.  But she had a strange feeling
inside that at long last, there was soon going to be some kind of light
at the end of the tunnel that had been endlessly dark for sixteen
yahrens.

[To Be Continued In "Galactica 1984: Remembrance Of Things Past"]