The Cylons' Curse: Three Adventures In The Colonial Frontier
A Battlestar Galactica Fanfic by Paul H. Robison
June 26, 2005

Crossovers with Lost in Space, Bonanaza, Buck Rogers in the 25th Century
,TekWar
     Battlestar Galactica is the property of Glen A. Larson and Universal
Productions (c) 1978
     Lost in Space is the property of Irwin Allen, Space Productions and
20th Century Fox (c) 1965
     Bonanza is the property of NBC and Universal Television (c)1959
     Tek War is the property of the estate of William Shatner (c) 1990
     Buck Rogers in the 25th Century is the property of Robert C. Dille
and Universal Studios (c) 1979

All are used without permission, for my amusement and that of anyone else
reading the following, and without intent to make any money whatsoever.

Spoilers:
1. Battlestar Galactica # 10:  The Long Patrol by Glen A. Larson and Ron
Goulart.  Ballentine Books, N.Y., N.Y., 1985 

2. Battlestar Galactica Episode Stories by Eric Paddon
   The Long Patrol (Adaptation)
   Fire in Space (Adaptation)
   The Magnificent Warriors (Adaptation)

Prequel to:
"A Visitor From Hades"
"Rogue in Space"
"Greetings From Space Family Robinson"

Special Guest Stars:
1. Princess Alpha (Lost in Space Season 3:  "Princess of Space.")
2. Captain Kraspo (Lost in Space Season 3:  "Princess of Space.")
3. Fedor (Lost in Space Season 3: "Princess of Space")
4. Hoss Cartwright/Hoss (Bonanza T.V. Series)
5. Winger (William Shatner's Tek War Novel)
6. Warbride (William Shatner's Tek War Novel)
7. The Planet Arcadis/New Corinth (Buck Rogers in the 25th Century Season
2:  "The Satyr")
8: The Dorays (Author's note:  Borays (The Magnificent Warriors)+Dorians
(Buck Rogers in the 25th Century Season 2:  "The Dorian Secret") )

From The Adama Journals

     After three sectars of roaming through space since our departure
from the Colonies, we have reached an important crossroads in our quest
for Earth.  In only a matter of centars we will officially leave the home
quadrant of our galaxy that contain the full parameter of what was once
known as the Colonial Frontier.  The tight-circle where we developed our
civilization, and traded with so many other races, and of course, found
ourselves ultimately drawn into war with the Cylon Empire for survival.
     And now our continued existence demands that we leave this familiar
part of the galaxy forever and entering the largely unknown domain of the
Alpha Quadrant. 
     The innermost ring of what lies in this sector adjacent to the Home
Quadrant is known to us largely through old Colonial star navigational
charts, many of which are hundreds of yahrens out of date.  This is
followed by the vast unknown that we must be expected to search if our
quest for the Thirteenth Colony called Earth is to succeed.
     To search that vast unknown, and find the one pathway that will lead
us to Earth remains our most formidable obstacle, and one that will
require more faith in the mercy of the Lords than anything else we
conceivably face in this journey, along with of course the danger that
the trailing Cylon pursuit force poses to us.  But in most respects, our
ability to persevere in this search for the right path may in fact hold
the greater key to our survival than our ability to beat back any
challenge the pursuit force gives to us.
     Upon completion of this entry, I will leave for the Bridge so I
might be there when the centon of our entry into the Alpha Quadrant takes
place.  It is the kind of occasion that in my younger days would have
left me excited over the prospects of exploring the challenges of deep
space.  Today, as I consider the weight of my many yahrens, the losses I
have experienced these last few sectars, and the obstacles that still
face us if we are to survive, I can only see it as a reminder of how
difficult the struggle remains.  The only thing I can do is to not let
that sense of weariness I feel within me become apparent to anyone.  I
must be strong and project nothing but strength, or else the people will
lose their ability to have faith in what I have told them, that there is
a distant dream of a Thirteenth Colony awaiting us.

Chapter One: The New Star System

     Majestically, the Battlestar Galactica moved through the deep
blackness of starless space.  The gigantic, multi-level vehicle was the
greatest fighting ship in the Colonial Fleet, a world unto itself that
housed thousands.
     The person, who oversaw the destiny of those thousands, and of the
hundreds in the rest of the rag-tag fleet, was Commander Adama, a
broad-shouldered, gray-haired man.  When he entered the bridge and
mounted the steps to the upper level, he could feel a web of disagreeing
emotions inside him.  On the one hand, there was the sense of wonder over
crossing an important threshold by entering the Alpha Quadrant was
testament enough to how they'd been able to endure despite great odds in
the last three sectars.  On the other, the sadness at being reminded of
how with each passing day the regions of space that had been so
reassuringly familiar were more and more being left behind, probably
forever.
     He could see Apollo at the base of the railing, looking down at the
main viewing window, with Boxey alongside him, and the robot daggit
Muffit off to one side.  The little boy was already dressed for his sleep
period, but Adama knew that Apollo wanted his son to be here for this
special occasion.  Apollo was young enough to still feel the awe and
wonder over entering this new, more unknown region of space, and it also
tapped into that part of him that would have preferred to be just an
ordinary interplanetary starship sailor rather than a warrior if there
had never been a war with the Cylons.  To Apollo, it was the kind of
occasion that he wanted to share with his son.  And Adama knew it was the
kind of thing that he had not been able to share with Apollo or any of
his other children during their youth, and that Apollo was determined to
set a different example; something that Adama approved of wholeheartedly.
     He stood on the bridge of the battlestar and fixed his gaze on the
large observation window looking straight into the powerful darkness.
     Colonel Tigh became aware of  Adama's arrival and approached him. 
"Sensors indicate that we're nearly to the end of the asteroid dust
cloud, Commander," the executive officer said. "That will officially put
is in the Alpha Quadrant."
     Adama nodded.  "Any problems with the rest of the Fleet navigating
through it?"
     "None worth bringing to your attention, sir."
     "It's strange," said Adama as he turned away from the dark window,
moving over to the railing where Apollo and Boxey were.  "I feel nervous,
as uneasy as a cadet on his first orbit."
     His son peeked up, surprised, to some extent, to see him.  "Oh,
Father!  Yes, in a way, I guess you are."
     "Hi, Grandpa," Boxey said, looking somewhat non-pulsed.  "I don't
think I'm nervous.  But maybe that's because I sort of don't know what to
be nervous about."
     Apollo stepped away from the data panel he'd been studying.  He
laughed as he put his hands on his son's shoulders so he could crouch
beside him.  "This is what's happening, Boxey.  We're leaving the home
quadrant of the galaxy, where the Colonies and all the other planets and
star systems we're most familiar with are located.  There are five other
quadrants of the galaxy that have been barely explored before, and this
one, the Alpha Quadrant, is where Earth is located."
     "How do we know that?" the little boy's interest picked up slightly.
     "Grandpa found that out on Kobol, where it said Earth was located in
the Alpha Quadrant.  That's why we're headed this way through the
asteroid dust cloud that's marked as the gateway from our home quadrant
to this one.  When we get through it, this'll be practically a whole new
galaxy for Colonial space travelers."
     "A brand new place?"
     "For us, yes.  A galaxy nobody in our Fleet has ever seen before."
     "That's it, Commander," said Tigh, nodding at the wide view window,
"we're through."
     Stars were appearing in the silent blackness outside, a sparkle of
light here, another there, soon dozens, and then hundreds.  And then
there were thousands of stars glowing in space, surrounding the Galactica
and the fleet.
     Even Muffit's robot mind seemed impressed as the daggit let out a
bark.
     "Hush, Muffit," Boxey glanced at his pet.  "It's just a bunch of
stars."
     Adama let out a chuckle, "Apollo, maybe Boxey should take the helm
since he seems to be the only one on the Bridge with a sense of
perspective."
     "Can I?" the little boy suddenly showed more enthusiasm than he had
since his arrival on the bridge. "I mean, we're in a new sector and all."
     Apollo smiled thinly, and injected just the right smattering of
parental authority.  "No you cannot, young man.  You're centons into your
sleep period already, remember?"
     The boy glanced toward his grandfather.  "Shouldn't I maybe stay
up?"
     Assuming a relatively stern look, yet loving every micron of what he
was seeing, the commander told him, "Now you leave me out of this, hear? 
I command the Fleet, young fellow, but Apollo's your father."
     Shoulders slumping, Boxey said, "Okay, I'll go to bed and miss
everything."  He began a slow, forlorn exit from the bridge with his
daggit trailing him.  Apollo knew he didn't have to accompany him since
Boxey knew the way from his quarters to the bridge so well he could walk
it with his eyes closed.
     "Seems to me," said Apollo, watching him go, "that Zac and I used to
have similar debates with you when we were about that age, Dad."
     "You were usually the most dramatic," his father smiled as he patted
him on the shoulder.  "As I recall, you had quite a talent for stomping
your foot."
     "Boy, did I ever."  Apollo's posture then became more formal.  "So
now that we're in the Alpha Quadrant, what's next on the list of chores
for us?"
     "Taking sensor sweeps of what lies ahead of us as quickly as
possible," his father also resumed a formal tone.  "The inner ring has
planets that were once part of the furthest reaches of the Colonial
Frontier, but that was hundreds of yahrens ago.  Still, it leaves open
the possibility that the Cylons may have been interested enough to move
into these regions without our knowledge, and that's our chief concern at
this time.
     Colonel Tigh rejoined them.  "Initial sensor readings are negative,"
he reported.  "No indications of life forms within the first quadrant of
this new sector."
     "Hum," Adama mused.  "As soon as the rest of the fleet clears the
asteroid dust," Adama said, "focus all the sensors forward to increase
our scanning range.  And tell Dr. Wilker to make sure preparations are
finished on Recon Viper One for whenever we need it."
     "Yes sir," the executive officer nodded and moved off.
     "Do you really think it's a good idea to use Wilker's new
plaything?" Apollo asked.  "I'm still a bit uneasy about the risk factor. 
Especially if our first concern is Cylon penetration into this quadrant."
     "Understood, but from a practical standpoint, Apollo, the ability to
escape a Cylon ambush is theoretically greater in this Recon Viper."
     "You couldn't get me to volunteer for that flight," Apollo shook his
head.  "Wilker's a genius, I will admit.  He proved that by creating
Muffit for Boxey.  But---well---I'm just not ready to entrust my life to
one of his creations."
     The commander, followed by Apollo, walked over to a console manned
by the dark-haired Athena.  "I thought you might feel that way,
especially since you never were the type to be impressed easily by
technological advancements in Viper craft.  "So who did volunteer for the
mission?"
     "Lieutenant Starbuck," answered the captain, smiling faintly.
     Abruptly, Athena turned around in surprise, "Starbuck volunteered
for the Recon mission?"
     Apollo smiled at his sister.  "I don't think it was his sense of
duty.  There was a certain incentive attached to it."
     "What kind of incentive.
     "Ever since the Council gave permissions to the Scorpians to reopen
the Astro Lounge over on the Liare, Starbuck's been trying to raise
enough money to get into the place.  Father's offered a hundred cubit
flight bonus to the first pilot who flies our new Recon Viper."
     "Really," Athena settled back in her chair.
     "Don't criticize his volunteering," said the commander.  "Bonus or
not, the mission may be a long and, I might add, very dangerous one."
     "Far be it from me to suggest my old buddy's a mercenary," Apollo's
smile widened.
     Adama nodded at Athena.  "What's Starbuck's status right now?"
     Athena punched the display status for all pilots on the computer. 
Names of warriors scrolled up the console's display screen.  When
Starbuck's came up, the crawl ceased.
     Athena tapped the screen with her forefinger.  "He's Status Green,"
she said.  "Right now, he's on the Rising Star.  
     Nodding, Commander Adama said, "Let's hope we don't have to jump him
to Status Red until after he's had his dinner."  He moved on.
     Athena was shaking her head as though she were disgusted about
something.
     "Something bothering you, Athena?" Adama asked.
     "Yesterday, he asked if I was free for dinner tonight," she said. 
"I thought he meant a get-together in the Officer's Club, and I told him
I was already working this shift, and he then said that was okay, maybe
another time.  He didn't tell me he had something like the Rising Star in
mind."
     "I see," Adama said.  "As your commanding officer and father, I
hereby grant you the freedom to change your plans.  Colonel Tigh and I
can cover for you in the meantime."
     Athena haltingly broke into a smile.  "Thanks, Father."  She then
rose from her seat and left the bridge.
     Uneasily, Apollo came over to his father.  "Ummm...Father, I didn't
want to say anything of a sensitive nature, but...that may not have been
a good idea."
     "Why not?" the Commander frowned.
     "Well...In all probability, if Starbuck knew that Athena couldn't
make it, he wouldn't be inclined to go over to the Rising Star alone."
     "That's certainly news to me," said Adama.  "I had the feeling that
things had gotten bumpy between them, but who would Starbuck ask out on
such short notice."
     "I'm not sure, although I think I've got a pretty good guess who if
he did invite someone else," Apollo didn't think it was his place to
bring up the interest Starbuck had been taking in the former socilator
turned med-tech named Cassiopeia.
     Adama breathed in deeply.  "Well, if that's the case, I'm sure
Athena's capable of behaving like a mature adult.  And if Starbuck
doesn't want to create difficulties with her, he won't end up trying to
hurt her."
     "You're right," Apollo nodded.  "Whatever happens, I'm sure he'll
try to do what's socially proper."

********************

     The luxury ship Rising Star was, on this particular evening,
situated relatively close to the Galactica, meaning that it would be
among the first ships in the Fleet to clear the asteroid dust cloud and
take note of the sudden brilliance presented by a myriad of unknown stars
around them.
     Inside the Main Dining Hall, a crowd of people had congregated by
the large full-length porthole at the Hall's entry point to take in the
sight.  On everyone's face, the reaction of total awe seemed highly
contagious.
     A grayish-black haired man with wide comical eyes and a slim
moustache stood among the crowd and smiled.  His name was Zumdish, and
there was no one else aboard the luxury ship with a deeper sense of
history and appreciation for what the Rising Star meant and symbolized
than him.  As a young man of eighteen yahrens, he had enlisted in the
Colonial Merchant Service and had been assigned to the Rising Star as a
bar steward.  Now, more than forty yahrens later, with service aboard no
other ship, he was the Rising Star's Chief Steward and supervisor of the
entire staff of bartenders, waiters and stewards who worked in the three
entertainment sections aboard the ship. In this case, the Main Dining
Hall, the adjacent Astral Lounge, and the Empyreal Lounge, which was
located on the other side of the ship.  As Chief Steward, Zumdish
directly oversaw and managed all activities in the Main Dining Hall and
Astral Lounge, while the Assistant Chief Steward, Zerio, took care of
matters in the Empyreal Lounge.  He could always be expected to be
persistently on the move attending to arriving guests and seeing to it
that he was familiar with each of their names, and what it was they were
looking forward to most aboard the Rising Star.  His ability to combine
courteousness with an air of formal authority ultimately made him the
enduring symbol of the Rising Star's sense of grandeur and style.  And
those who got to know him, could always expect him to spend many centars
telling stories about his forty yahrens of service aboard the luxury
liner and the people he'd met and known from all walks of life, as well
as the stories about the Rising Star's heritage, stretching back more
than three hundred yahrens, that he had carefully learned as well.
     Tonight, as he watched and saw the onetime interstellar liner move
free of the asteroid dust cloud, would not be an exception.
     "Ach. Theesh remindsh me of the old daysh," he said in his famously
peculiar accent.
     "What do you know about the old days, Zum?"
     "Much, much, much, Lieutenant," Zumdish said.  "I've sherved aboard
the Rishing Shtar shince I wash jusht a lad.  Back then, we traveled to
the very end of the Colonial Frontier.  Thosh were wonderful, wonderful
timesh.  Before the war, that eesh."
     "Before the war?" Starbuck raised an eyebrow.  "Are you a thousand
yahrens old, Zumdish?"
     "Ach, forg-geev an ageeng man for heesh bad habeetsh.  For thosh of
ush who sherved on the Rishing Shtar back then, the war wash
more...deesh-tant to ush.  Not partee-cularly acteeve at that point,
wheech wash why the Rishing Shtar could travel much further out eento
shpace and put eento all kinds of deeshtant planetsh and shpacedromesh,
like my favorite, Quotara.  When the war shuddenly heated up again, that
put an end to the daysh of traveling such great deesh-tan-ches.  Thatsh
why to thosh of ush who sherve aboard the Rishing Shtar, 'pre-war' meansh
the happier daysh of exshitement, and deep spacsh travel."
     "I see," Starbuck realized that he couldn't dare show too much
interest in Zumdish's renowned gift for storytelling, or else he'd be
distracted from what he wanted to do this evening.  "Y'know, Zum, this
could be my last chance to have dinner on the Rising Star for awhile, the
big mission coming up and all that.  So, ah," he pulled Cassiopeia, who
was beaming, more tightly to him, "You wouldn't happen to have a private
dining room available would you?"
     Zumdish made a loud popping sound by puckering his lips into an "O"
and then slapping the flat of his hand against his lips.  "Very shorry,
very shorry, Lieutenant," he said.  "Private roomsh musht be resherved
shix or sheven meely-shen-tonsh een advansh.  Eet eesh not posh-ee-ble
ash we have a very high attendanch aboard sheep theesh eve-en-neeng."
     Starbuck deftly transferred a gold ingot that represented one
hundred cubits from his hand to that of Zumdish.  "You'd be doing a good
deed."
     Immediately, Zumdish made another popping noise as he discreetly
pocketed the cubit.  "Yesh!  Perhapsh een your casesh, one can alwaysh
shee to eet that arrangementsh are made for a warrior on heesh lasht
night before the big meesh-un.  Follow me, pleesh."
     Starbuck hesitated an instant before following the Chief Steward
down the corridor that led to the private rooms.  "Last night?" his left
eye narrowed.  "I don't think I like the way he said that."

********************

Chapter Two: Starbuck's Last Night

     "Starbuck," Cassiopeia said as they began to walk.  "What's this I
hear about a big mission?  What exactly is it?"
     He lowered his voice to a whisper.  "Nothing special, just a routine
recon jaunt, but don't tell him that."
     They reached the end of the corridor, where Zumdish had opened the
door that led to one of more than a dozen private rooms situated in the
passageway.
     "Thish weel do nishly, yesh?"
     Starbuck and Cassiopeia stepped in and took a look.  "Perfect," the
blonde warrior grinned.  "And if you could furnish a bottle of Virgon
ambrosa, that would make it even more perfect."
     "Virgon ambrosha, Lieutenant?" Zumdish lifted an eyebrow.  "We're
already een leemeeted shuppliesh ash eet eesh, and you're ashking for the
raresht veen-tage---"
     He stopped as Starbuck slipped him another hundred-cubit ingot.
     "I'll she what I can do," the Chief Steward said as he turned and
departed.
     No wonder he's served on the Rising Star all these yahrens, he
thought.  I'll bet he got his own quarters in Elite Class just by getting
all those extra bribes and tips.
     "Okay, Starbuck," Cassiopeia put her arms around him and kissed him.
'Whether we get Virgon ambrosa or not, I expect to have a good time just
the same."
     He grinned.  "Hey, you know me. I always know how to make the best
out of any situation."
     "It means a lot that you asked me out on this," she let go of him
and took a moment to look about the room.  "We med-techs don't get asked
out very often."
     Starbuck smiled thinly.  He didn't have the heart or the nerve to
mention that it was her previous profession that had intrigued her more
than her current one.  Although in the three sectars since she had given
up being a socilator to become a med-tech, he had gotten to see a lot
more substance to Cassiopeia as a woman than he'd ever expected to see.
     Even so, he was still at a point where he was not completely ready
to break all the pre-Holocaust ties he'd felt with Athena, and that was
why he'd taken a chance asking her out first, only to get told that she
was on duty for the night.  It had disappointed him that she wouldn't
have thought of a reason for getting out of bridge duty to take advantage
of their first date in a long time, and it made him wonder if he should
take that as a hint that his relationship with Athena was beyond
salvaging.
     But even now, as he came up to Cassiopeia again and put his hands on
her shoulders, he was not about to let his uncertainty over that stand in
the way of a good evening.
     "I don't think of you as a med-tech," his smile spread out into a
grin, "I just think of you as a very, very beautiful woman," he kissed
the back of her neck.
     "I'll do my best to live up to that image," she turned around and
kissed him again.  "And in order to do that, I'll have to take a centon
to freshen up a bit." 
     "Hey, do whatever you think is best," Starbuck kept grinning as he
pulled out a fumarello and poked it into his mouth.  "I'm sure the
results will be worth waiting for."
     As soon as the door whispered shut, he settled back in the couch and
lit the fumarello with a contented air.  I do believe this is going to be
a night to remember, he thought.

********************

     On the Galactica' s Bridge, Omega was attentively studying the
results of the forward sensor scans with such intensity on his face that
from the other side of the Bridge, Rigel stared at him with a bemused
expression.
     He's so damn wrapped up in his work, she thought with resignation. 
Even though she and Omega had dated several times in the past and she
knew that he was interested in her, she also knew that the Bridge Officer
often got trapped in his duties to the point where any prospects for a
social life tended to be crowded out.  It had been more than a couple of
sectans since he'd last asked her out and she wondered if a subtle hint
to him at some point was in order.
     Suddenly, Omega came forward in his chair and called out to Adama
and Tigh, which, at the same time, caused Rigel to whip her head back
toward her own computer terminal and get back to work.
     "Commander, Colonel, we've got long range scanner suggestions of
possible life forms!"
     Adama, who was still conversing with Apollo, came over from their
side of the Bridge, situated in front of the Bridge Officer, while Tigh,
who had previously been engaged in duties on the upper level, approached
from behind.
     "Position?" Adama asked.
     "Delta vector eight, heading eight, six, two." He looked up. 
"Request permission to concentrate all scans in this direction."
     "Permission granted," the Commander said and looked over at Rigel. 
"Rigel, correlate this area being scanned to the listing of planets in
all known Colonial star maps on file."
     "Yes sir.  I should have that in a centon," Rigel said as she went
to work.
     "What do you think?" Apollo asked. "Could the Cylons have penetrated
this area?"
     "It's impossible to know from this far out," his father shook his
head.  "It could be the Narn, Centauri or some other race we've never
heard of, and...well, there's even the possibility of human settlements
that were written off by the Colonies long ago.  We're not yet at the
stage where any humans we come across have no possible connections to
earlier Colonial settlements."  He looked up at the Executive Officer. 
"Colonel, what does Dr. Wilker have to say about the status of Recon
Viper One?"
     "He says it's ready for whenever it's needed."
     "Good," Adama nodded and turned back to his son.  "Get Starbuck back
here immediately.  His mission just moved up to tonight."

********************

     Starbuck had just taken another satisfied puff on his fumarello when
the door panel whispered open again.
     "Whoops!" he stammered as he got to his feet.
     Athena stepped across the threshold.  "Hi."  She came over to him. 
"I...managed to get off duty after all and I thought I'd surprise you."
     "Well...you sure did, Athena.  You sure did!  Starbuck's chuckled
sounded very boyish to his ears. He could feel his mind flashing back to
Carillon and the hole he'd dug for himself the last time Cassiopeia and
Athena had confronted each other, and the last thing he wanted was a
replay of that.
     "I thought I'd better tell you that you may be bumped up to Red
Status," the dark-haired young woman said while taking a few tentative
steps toward the table.
     "Red Status?" He put down his cigar.
     "You see, Starbuck, I just learned that you'd volunteered for the
recon probe," she said, eyes misting slightly.  "I mean, you'd asked me
to spend your last night with you and all."
     "Why does everybody keep saying that?"
     "Saying what?"
     "Never mind."
     "I guess I'm not putting this just right, Starbuck," continued
Athena.  "The thing is, I really don't want you to be alone.  You are
alone, aren't you?"
     "Oh, well ah..." he found himself desperately fishing for words and
then decided on a quick answer that he knew was a cop-out. 
"Alone...Why...of course I'm alone!" he managed to smile.
     The door sizzled open.  For an instant, Starbuck was afraid it was
Cassiopeia, but when he managed to look he could see it was Zumdish,
holding a tray containing two glasses and a bottle of ambrosa.
     "Lieutenant, I managed to---" the Chief Steward abruptly stopped as
he saw Athena, settled next to Starbuck, and then with the faintest trace
of amusement set the tray down.
     "Oh! Hi, Zum!" Starbuck bolted over to him. "Glad you're back
because ah...this dinky little private room was sufficient when I was
alone and sulking.  Now, though, I feel the need of something a mite
better.  Posher."
     "That may be mosht deefeecult, shir."
     "Difficult, but...ah...not impossible."  Starbuck passed him another
cubit.
     "Eet occursh to me, Lieutenant, that there eesh eendeed another room
available, one that more ideally shuits your preshent needsh."  He tapped
his temple with the hand that clutched Starbuck's latest contribution.
"Yet, my poor old brain ish haf-eeng trouble recalling where."
     "This may jog your memory," Starbuck provided yet another glittering
cubit.
     "Eet all comesh back to me now, yesh," said Zumdish with a positive
nod of his head.  "Right theesh way, shir and meesh."  He bowed and led
them from the room.
     "My, aren't you jittery tonight?" observed Athena as she took his
arm.  "Worried about the mission, Starbuck?"
     "No, no," he said quickly.  "No, it's actually the sight of you. 
Yes, you, the fairest creature on all the ships in the Fleet.  You set my
blood to racing."
     "Well, that's very flattering," she said smiling.  "Even though I
don't believe it at...careful!"
     He'd been glancing from left to right, alert, on the lookout for
Cassiopeia, and had tripped on a wrinkle in the plush carpeting. "Sorry,"
he said.  "Being with you, love, makes me a mite giddy, I guess."
     To his relief, Zumdish reached a room on the other side of the
corridor and motioned them in without anyone else appearing.
     "Here you are, shir," the Chief Steward continued to smile. 
"Remember, eef you need any-sheeng elsh, be sure to ashk for me
pershonally.  You can alwaysh count on me to handle all of your
problemsh."
     "I'm sure of that," Starbuck said with the faintest air of sarcasm
as he and Athena entered the room.
     "Oh.  Und letch not forget your ambrosha, shir.  Choish Virgon
vintage, ash you requeshted," Zumdish set the tray down.
     "Thank you," Starbuck wished he would go.  "That'll be all...for
now."
     "Shertainly, shir."  Zumdish had a twinkle in his goofy eyes as he
departed.
     Athena still had a quizzical look on her face.  "Were you expecting
company?"
     "Huh?  Who me?" Starbuck wondered if he was going to break out in a
nervous sweat.
     "I noticed you had two glasses ordered with that," she motioned at
the tray.
     "Talk about extrasensory perception," he chuckled, gesturing at the
little room.  "I was sitting in there brooding, contemplating the vast
panorama of this new galaxy, and reflecting on the meaning of life when I
got this very strong hunch that someone, someone lovely, was going to
join me.  That's when I ordered a second glass."
     "I see," she could still feel an air of suspicion inside her, but
wasn't willing to express it openly.  Not yet at least.
     "So, ah..." Starbuck said as he hastily poured a libation and handed
it to her, "how are things on the Bridge?"
     She took the glass and sipped the contents.  By far, the best she
had ever tasted and it managed to sooth her suspicious mind, at least for
now.
     "The same as they always are. Although tonight, everyone was kind of
edgy about getting through the asteroid dust cloud.  Good thing the
Rising Star's flying so close to the Galactica or else I would've had to
wait several centars for a shuttle to get through the cloud."
     Just my frakkin' luck, Starbuck thought.
     "Is shop talk the only thing you had in mind for tonight, Starbuck?"
her voice took on that suggestive edge that she knew in the past had
always been able to make an impression on him.
     "Oh, ah no.  No, not at all. It's just...you know, I was suddenly
thinking that now that I'm sharing this bottle with someone and not
drinking it myself, I've just got to have some fresh protein available to
go with it, or else you can't fully appreciate it.  Right?"
     "I guess," the suspicious feeling returned to her, and she was
beginning to think she'd made a mistake coming over.  "Since when are you
such a connoisseur?"
     "Hey, for an evening with you, I've got to be knowledgeable about
these things.  Now, give me a centon and I'll see about getting some
right away."
     "Why bother?  Just ask Mr. Zumdish."
     "Nope, can't waste time waiting for him and telling him and even
more time waiting for him to go back and get it.  This'll be much
quicker, believe me.  So sit tight and enjoy the ambrosa.  I'll be back
in a flash."
     He jaunted out into the passageway, leaving her confused and feeling
her suspicions mounting.
     I probably made a mistake coming here.  I'll bet anything if I were
out in the hallway, he's either meeting someone or making a telecom to
someone else he invited instead.
     Still, she lacked the nerve to go out there to see her suspicions
confirmed.  If only because she desperately wanted to cling to a ray of
hope that her suspicions were groundless.

********************

     "Dr. Wilker's arrived in Launch Bay Alpha to make the final recheck
on Recon Viper One and brief the pilot," Tigh said.
     "Good.  Tell him he'll probably have to wait just a bit to give
Lieutenant Starbuck time to return to the Galactica."  Adama returned his
attention to Omega's station.  "Anything more on those earlier life form
scans?"
     "We've just about got the position narrowed down to this system here
along the Delta vector heading," Omega said.  "Indications are of a
binary star system with multiple asteroid bodies, several of which may be
capable of sustaining human life.  Still not close enough to verify."
     Adama turned to Rigel, "Is the position correlated in the Star Map
database?"
     "Yes it is, sir," Rigel replied.  "Destructon star system.  Consists
of five asteroids, only one of which was marked and deemed suitable for
human life forms."
     "Any indications of past Colonial survey or settlement?"
     Rigel shook her head.  "I'm sorry, Commander.  No available
information in the database.  This may have been something only Central
Fleet Archives had details on."
     "All of which is no longer accessible to us," Adama sighed.  "Very
well, that's where Recon Viper One will begin its investigation.  I hope
Starbuck had time to finish his dinner."

********************
 
     Feeling slightly panicked, Starbuck made his way back to the private
room he had vacated centons before, and when he entered he saw Cassiopeia
settled on the couch with a concerned look.
     "Where've you been?  I was worried for a moment that you'd been put
on alert all of a sudden."
     "Sorry about that. Zumdish came back while you were still out and
said there was no way he could come up with any Virgon ambrosa, so I just
had to go out and raise a ruckus about that, but," he shrugged, "even my
powers of persuasion have their limits."  
     "Too bad," she said.  "I went to the trouble of having some fresh
protein delivered.  Without ambrosa though..."
     "Who says you gotta have ambrosa to take pleasure in the sweet taste
of protein?" Starbuck said as he settled next to her on the couch,
helping himself.  "I mean, what do those guys who write all that
felgercarb about what food goes with what drink really know, when you
think about it?  If it tastes good, it tastes good no matter what."  He
picked up a piece and sampled it.  "Mmmmm. Delicious.  See what I mean? 
Those culinary expertsare full of felgercarb."
     "One thing's for certain," she playfully ran her hand through his
hair.  "We don't need ambrosa to get the necessary effect for a pleasant
evening."
     He smiled.  "How nice of you to point that out."
     She was on the very of kissing him again, when suddenly a voxbox
announcement filled the room: "Lieutenant Starbuck.  Attention,
Lieutenant Starbuck.  Return to Battlestar Galactica at once.  Lieutenant
Starbuck, report to Launch Bay Alpha, immediately.  Priority Red!"
     "Oh frack!" said Cassiopeia sadly.  "Just when things were starting
to get interesting."
     Inside, Starbuck was feeling a wave of relief, as though he'd just
been spared from the hangman's noose.  "Yeah well...duty calls, love.  At
least this time it wasn't a malfunctioning steam blast that interrupted
us."
     "I guess not," she laughed. 
     Returning to the table, he bent and kissed her.  "Here," Starbuck
unfastened the insignia pin from the left side of his cape.  "Take this
and keep it close to you, as I head off into the great unknown on this
dangerous mission."
     She took it and smiled obliquely.  "I thought you said it was just a
routine patrol."
     "Routine patrols have been known to hold unexpected dangers." He got
to his feet.  "Now, you just finish the protein and help yourself to all
the things this ship's got to offer.  Until next time, dear Cassiopeia." 
He then blew her a kiss and left the room, leaving her alone to finger
the insignia pin with a contented air.
     Once he was out in the corridor,  Starbuck sprinted back to the
second private room.
     "Would you believe it?" he threw up his arms in disgust.  "I gotta
check on fresh protein so things can be perfect and then I have to get
that voxbox message."
     "I heard," Athena said. "I guess tonight just wasn't meant for us."
     "No, it sure wasn't," he smiled and came over to her.  "Still, there
can always be another time."
     "Can there?" her tone became serious.  "You and I...we've...not
exactly taken advantage of each other's company of late, Starbuck."
     For the first time, Starbuck's concerns over the hilarious situation
he'd been thrust into faded, as he realized she'd brought up a point he'd
been avoiding for some time.
     "No, I guess we haven't," he said.  "Things have...really been more
chaotic these last few sectars than either of us ever expected the might
be.  Of course, if you spent more time keeping up with the reserve flight
group, we'd be able to see each other more often, I'm sure."
     "I'm not cut out to keep up with viper flying, believe me.  Stepping
in when I was needed at Kobol was one thing, but...," she broke off. 
"Sorry, I'm keeping you from duty.  The Commander filled me in on what it
was about before I left."
     "Ahaaa!" Starbuck nodded.  "In that case, Athena, you know all the
risks it entails, so I'll tell you what."  He removed the remaining
insignia pin from his cape.  "Hang on to this for me while I'm gone, will
you?  A little thing to remember me by."
     She took it, and found herself touched by the gallant gesture. 
"Thanks, Starbuck."
     He gave her a hug and kissed her on the mouth, the first time he'd
done so in a long while.  A wave of memories of what they'd shared before
the Holocaust filled Starbuck's mind as he realized why it was still
difficult to think of admitting that the relationship with Athena wasn't
what it had once been and couldn't be recaptured.
     "Gotta go now," he released her.  "Duty calls, love."
     "I can go with you back to the Galactica."
     "Ah, ah!" he held up a hand and backed up toward the door.  "No,
don't move a muscle, you just got here so why don't you just finish the
ambrosa and help yourself to everything this ship's got to offer.
Besides," he took a breath and knew he'd regret this but he didn't want
to take any chances, "I want to remember you just as you are.  Framed
here in our little bower, a myriad of stars behind you."
     The way in which he uttered his endearing comments only made the
suspicious aura return to Athena's mind.  Still, she didn't want to say
anything she might regret later.  Not after the disastrous conversation
in the locker room just after the Destruction, which she knew had sent
their relationship on a downward spiral.
     He blew her a kiss and disappeared.  Once the door hissed shut,
Athena shook her head, not knowing whether to think the evening had been
a positive step in the right direction or a complete and utter disaster.
     One thing's for sure, she thought wryly, he could use a remedial
class in literature to come up with better romantic comments than that
exit line.

********************

     As soon as he was in the corridor, Starbuck headed in the direction
of the Main Dining Hall, which would ultimately lead him to the docking
area and the safety of the Galactica.  Before he reached the end of the
corridor, he noticed Zumdish holding a computer clipboard.  
     "Lieutenant," he said, "eef you now plan on deen-ner for both
roomsh, that weel necessh-ee-tate a shlight adjushtment."
     Starbuck let out a defeated sigh and pulled out his moneybag.
     "Tell you what, Zum," he emptied the remaining contents into his
hand, which amounted to four hundred more cubits.  "Where I'm going,
cubits aren't needed anyway.  I might as well just start with a clean
slate on my next pay cycle."
     He dropped them on the computer clipboard and the Chief Steward
smiled.
     "Thank you, shir.  Und might I add that I admire the lieutenant-sh
dare-ingk?"
     "Don't go overboard. It's not that kind of mission."
     "Not the meesh-un, shir," Zumdish said.  "I was referring to the two
young ladiesh.  Very pre-war of you.  Eet putsh me een mind of why thosh
daysh were sho schpeshal to all of ush who sherved aboard the Rishing
Shtar back then."
     Starbuck smiled crookedly.  "Someday, Zumdish, I'm going to want to
hear all the details of those pre-war stories you've got tucked away."
     He then walked away at a brisk pace, leaving Zumdish alone to pick
up the cubits from his clipboard and pocket them.  Just as he finished he
could hear the door to both private rooms open and he could see both
Athena and Cassiopeia emerge, with each of them staring at the insignia
pin they had been given, and not aware of the other's presence.
     Zumdish immediately made a hasty retreat in the other direction, not
wanting to see an example of the unpleasant side of what "pre-war"
behavior sometimes led to.  He could vividly recall many occasions in his
early days when a Rising Star passenger on a date with a young woman
suddenly had to contend with another girlfriend, or even a wife, showing
up unexpectedly.  And sometimes, the results had led to physical blows.
     As if on cue, both Cassiopeia and Athena looked up at the same
instant and found themselves looking right into each others eyes and then
seeing that both had each part of Starbuck's cape insignia pins.
     Cassiopeia was the one more taken aback at first, since she had not
developed the slightest suspicion that Starbuck had something like this
in mind.  But then, it almost struck her as funny and she found herself
trying not to laugh.
     Athena on the other hand was feeling a mixture of anger at both
Starbuck and herself.
     "I knew it!" she said aloud. "I knew he couldn't have been alone."
     "Hello, Athena," Cassiopeia smiled.  "Nice to see you again."
     "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," she glared at her.
     "Athena," the med-tech said gently.  "Come off it.  If we're just
now forced to admit to each other that we've become challengers for his
affection, there's no reason why we should hate each other or come to
blows about it."
     Athena felt herself calming down inside.  "You're right.  Nothing
personal, Cassiopeia, but it's...just...him.  I should know by now that
it's over between us, so why do I keep---" she trailed off and shook her
head, wondering why she'd been so na‹ve.
     "Aw, don't be too hard on yourself," Cassiopeia suddenly found
herself concerned about her, which struck her as ironic.  "The fact that
you're here tells me that he asked you out first, didn't he?  Because he
only asked me out a couple of centars ago, and that means that I
certainly haven't become the clear number one in his eyes...yet."
     Her words caused some of Athena's inner rage and awkwardness to
vanish.  "I guess so."  She then frowned.  "Why would you even bother
saying that to me, anyway?"
     "Because I like you, Athena.  And whatever happens I want us to come
out of this on decent terms, if not friends."
     She nodded and for the first time relaxed.  "You know, it's not as
if this is the first time I've seen him do this kind of juggling act. 
When...we first started going out with each other, he had another
girlfriend from awhile back that he wasn't ready to cut all ties with."
     "Oh?" Cassiopeia lifted an eyebrow in surprise.  "He never mentioned
anyone else he's gone out with before.  Who was she?"
     "Someone he knew on Caprica named Aurora.  She was killed the night
of the attack."  Athena paused, and a thoughtful air entered her voice. 
"Just out of curiosity, is there any protein in your room?"
     "Yes," she nodded.  "And I assume the ambrosa's in yours."
     Athena smiled.  "Then how about we finish them off while sharing all
the nasty things we can possibly say about him to each other."
     Cassiopeia returned it.  "You're on."

*******************

Chapter Three: Recon Viper One

     Starbuck's shuttle jaunt to the Galactica felt more relaxing to him
than a ride escaping from a Cylon prison might have felt to him.  The
whole evening had left a bitter taste in his mouth and made him want to
completely forget all about women and romance...for now at least.  The
reality was that he was reaching a point where he knew that sooner or
later he had to choose between one of the two women, hurting the other
one in the process.  The pre-Holocaust Starbuck wouldn't have let himself
feel too guilty about that, but not anymore.
     As soon as he arrived on the battlestar, he saw Apollo waiting for
him.
     "Glad you could make it," Apollo     said.  'You've got exactly five
centons to change clothes and get back down to the launch bay for
briefing.  You're to wear the stealth uniform for this mission."
     "Got it," Starbuck said obediently, determined to hurl himself into
every facet of the mission.
     Five centons later, Apollo was surprised to see that Starbuck had
followed orders and wasted no time.  He was wearing a gray and black
bodysuit with no markings or insignia, and a nondescript helmet that more
resembled a triad helmet than a pilot's.  Alongside his viper were
Apollo, Boomer and Dr. Wilker.
     "Wow!" Boomer said as he eyed Starbuck.  "You sure do look just
fetching," 
     Starbuck held out his arms at his sides and executed a slow turn. 
"I do wonders for any kind of uniform," he grinned.  "Maybe because of
this, the Colonial Warrior's uniform will get its first revamp in a
hundred yahrens.  We could strike more fear and terror with a darker
color scheme. Remember that comic book superhero that fought crime in
Caprica City dressed up in a bat costume?"
     "The only problem, Starbuck, is that you hardly ever look like a
warrior, so how could your wearing this have an impact on what the rest
of us wear?"  Boomer refused to let up.  It had been a while since he'd
had the chance to do some needling of his friend, and before a serious
mission was always the best time to engage in needling, if only to let
the warrior who was about to take the risky mission feel more relaxed.
     "Hmm, you got me on that one, Boomer.  Maybe it's my lack of a good
haircut in recent sectars that makes you think that.  Of course, the
reason why it's safter to just let it grow is because there isn't a
single haircutter in the Fleet I'd trust for a micron.  They'd probably
all want to give me an Academy cadet's buzz on a micron's notice."
     "Even though that helmet you've got there is more apt to damage such
an unkempt style like yours already is," Apollo grinned. "Did you enjoy
your meal?"
     Starbuck grimaced.  "Let's just say that I'm looking forward to a
few centons in space.  Alone.  Just me, a fast ship and, hopefully, a
fair and empty quadrant."
     "Well, you've certainly got the fast ship, ole buddy."  Apollo
motioned to the Electronics Scientist who'd been standing by with an
impatient aura, since he was anxious to go into one of his famous
lectures that were always guaranteed to be topheavy with the latest
scientific jargon.  "Dr. Wilker, kindly explain to the Lieutenant what
he's going to be handling."
     "Thank you very much, Captain."  Wilker stepped forward.  "This
experimental Recon Viper is the finest advancement my staff and I have
ever devised.  Thanks to the addition of extra engine space, the speed
capacity is twice that of the standard Starhound Class Viper that you've
flown your entire career."
     "Twice the speed, eh?" Starbuck took a step toward the craft, and
hoped that Wilker's lecture wasn't going to last too long.
     "Not only that, but this marks the formal unveiling of something
I've had in development for a long time:  the C.O.R.A. system."
     "C.O.R.A.?" Starbuck frowned.
     "My voice-activated computer system.  It is specially designed to
handle all aspects of flight, enabling you to go into extended sleep mode
for a long-range mission.  It can also respond to all your direct
commands and ensure that you're capable of outrunning anything the Cylons
or any other known hostile craft could conceivably throw at you."
     "Sounds fascinating, Doc, but we hotshot space jockeys don't need
all that electronic felgercarb."
     Wilker bristled considerably.  "I resent that, Lieutenant.  I think
you'll find that even for a hotshot space jockey, these advancements can
come in handy and, if push comes to shove, they can even save your life!"
     "Easy there, Doc.  I know you have the best interest of Mankind at
heart."  Starbuck mounted the steps and settled into the cockpit of his
viper.
     Apollo decided he needed to re-enter the conversation and keep
Wilker from having a blowout.  "Okay, Starbuck, once you're launched,
switch on your short-range marker beacon so we can track you.  Other than
that, no transmissions unless it's absolutely necessary, and even then
only in full-scrambled code, as we don't want the Cylons to track your
signal back."  He then lowered his voice to a dead serious tone.  "And
Starbuck, if you should make Cylon contact---"
     "I know," the brash warrior held up a hand. "Then this becomes a
one-way voyage, since we don't want them tracking me back to the Fleet."
     "Actually, Lieutenant, you don't know!" Wilker haughtily protested. 
"That's what the C.O.R.A. system does---it gives this Viper additional
speed and maneuvers so you can totally confuse any Cylon from figuring
out which direction you've gone off in once you elude them."
     "You don't say." Starbuck looked down at him.  "Well, maybe there is
something to be said for electronic felgercarb after all.  Did you say
twice as fast?"
     "I did," Wilker beamed as Apollo stepped from the Viper.  "It has a
second pulse generator in all three engines which gives you the
additional engine space and the additional speed.  You'll fall in love
with it."
     "Don't be too sure."  Starbuck frowned and took a micron to look at
the rear of the Viper craft.  "I don't see any modifications for that
kind of engine expansion.  Externally, I can't tell this bird from any
other Starhound Viper."
     "We didn't make any external modifications because we felt none were
necessary."
     "If I remember my physics correctly, that means you sacrificed
something in order to accommodate the additional weight," Starbuck said
as he strapped himself in place and prepared to close the cockpit canopy.
"What did you sacrifice?"
     "The laser generators," Wilker said casually.
     "Oh," Starbuck said as he hit the button and the canopy began to
lower.  It was halfway down when the implications of what the Electronics
Scientist had just said hit him like a Cylon bomb on a battlestar's hull.
     "Sure, that makes sense," he said to himself.  "Remove the laser
generators to cut down on the weight and---you're unarmed!"
     The canopy sealed shut before Starbuck could finish his protest.  He
could see Apollo and Boomer standing over there grinning at him, in what
he knew was their way of wishing him luck and a safe return.  The sight
of Wilker preening in delight over the fact that his new inventions were
being put to use, made Starbuck wish he could make a rude gesture at the
Electronics Scientist.
     Resigned to his fate, he powered up the switches and ten microns
later, the Viper craft roared down the launch tube and into the openness
of space.

********************

     Apollo and Boomer wasted no time walking away from Dr. Wilker, since
the Electronic Scientist's lecture had come off as jarring to the both of
them.
     "This mission makes no sense, if you ask my opinion," Boomer said. 
"I'm as awestruck by hi-tech progress as Wilker is, but this doesn't seem
like the best way to show it off, especially when it leaves him totally
unarmed."
     "I totally agree with you, Boomer," Apollo nodded as they reached
the turbo lift.  "Just sending two or three of us on a regular patrol
sweep ought to be enough.  I guess it's the whole sudden unknown
challenge of the Alpha Quadrant that makes the Commander a bit restless
and willing to try something different.
     "I suppose you're right," Boomer said as he tapped the button and
the lift ascended.  "I got to be honest, leaving the home quadrant for
the last time kind of drove it home that we're never going to see
anything familiar again, not in our lifetimes anyway."
     "I came to terms with that a long time ago," Apollo said.  "I'm glad
we finally got it over with, though.  I'll feel better once home becomes
a distant and fading memory."
     "Well, just because you're willing to forget the past doesn't mean I
am," Boomer said as the turbo-lift came to a halt.  "I still dream about
having a furlon back on Caprica, only each time I dream the images become
hazy and when I wake up I keep trying to force myself to remember what it
was like because I refuse to forget what it was like.  If our generation
isn't fated to find Earth, then we can't let our children and our
descendants forget about what the worlds we came from were like."
     "You've got a point there, buddy," Apollo said as they stepped into
the corridor, although he had no intention of following that advice when
it came to Boxey.  The last thing he wanted to do was remind Boxey too
much of the "good old days" that he'd experienced when he was young, and
risk opening up all kinds of inner trauma.  Especially if there were
still demons in his mind about the death of his mother that he had yet to
conquer.
     "How 'bout a round in the Club?" Boomer asked.
     "Think I'll take a rain check on that," Apollo said.  "I'd better
call it a day.  See you tomorrow."
     "Damn right," the dark-skinned warrior nodded as they went their
separate ways.

********************

Chapter Four: C.O.R.A. And Starbuck

     Starbuck was impressed.
     As soon as he'd set the viper on course he could immediately tell
the difference between it and the run-of-the-mill viper.  The handling
was far smoother, and it almost gave him the sensation of sliding across
a surface of ice with no bumps whatsoever as he continued to pick up
speed.
     "So far, so good," Starbuck said. "Okay, baby, let's see what you
can really do."
     The impetuous warrior hit his turbo thrusters to the maximum setting
and felt a sensation of speed he'd never experienced in his life before. 
And what made it all the more exhilarating was how smooth and easy it
felt.  For more than a centon, he allowed himself to enjoy the feel of
the Viper, taking it through a series of rolls, loops and banks in the
process.   
     "Whoooo-hahhhhhh!" he let out an excited whoop.  "Wilker, you are a
genius for making them fast.  But let's see if your little computer can
top that!"
     He then activated the computer control switch on the front of the
dash, clearly marked by the acronym C.O.R.A.
     Starbuck was then startled to hear a feminine voice fill the
cockpit."
     "Your wish is my command, sugar."
     Abruptly, he saw the control stick move itself to the left and
Starbuck felt himself thrown back as the viper went off at the same fast
speed he had managed a centon before.  Only this time, the viper was
going in a series of far more rapid maneuvers and rolls than he'd been
able to execute.
     "Holy---Frack, come on, stop!  You're gonna make me sick!  Back to
normal speed and heading now!"
     There was an almost sarcastic edge in the voice.  "Whatever you
wish, honey."
     Starbuck glared at the computer in annoyance. "Suppose you try
addressing me as Lieutenant Starbuck?  Or sir.  There's a certain
protocol to this sort of---"
     "Nertz!" replied the computer.  "Who are you trying to impress
Starbuck?  I've read through your record and, it seems to me, protocol
and dignity are things that you steer clear of.  "Two people traveling in
a small intimate vehicle shouldn't be so damn formal, anyway."
     '"You've got access to my personal records?  That's not standard
operating procedure."
     "And I'm not standard equipment," the feminine voice retorted.  "Now
stop being a bore and let me introduce myself.  My name's C.O.R.A.---"
     "I know that," he cut in with disgust.
     "Short for Computer/Oral Response Activated," it went on.  "I'm
programmed to respond instantly to all your needs.  I'm also to keep you
amused over the lengthy duration of our prolonged voyage."
     "Great!" Already Starbuck was wondering if Wilker had lost his
sanity to come up with something like this.  "Already you've been more
fun than a barrel of siminoids, trust me."
     A forlorn sigh emitted from the terminal.  "I would advise you to
cease your hostility, as it will not help our working relationship, which
is vital to our mission's success."
     "All right, all right, I apologize.  Go ahead."  Starbuck couldn't
believe he was having this kind of conversation with a computer.  The
only time he'd gone through something similar was when he'd been a
prisoner aboard Baltar's baseship and had an interesting talk with the
second-in-command, a more sophisticated Cylon designated Lucifer, who
possessed normal speech, unlike the common centurion.  But to hear a
normal voice coming from a computer terminal was more surreal to him than
hearing one from a moving robot.
     Starbuck's forward scanners switched on by themselves and he could
now see a detailed readout showing his viper proceeding in the direction
of a nearby star system.
     "We are on Delta vector eight, heading, eight, six, two for the
sector quadrant containing the binary star system in which five asteroids
are located, one of which is listed in Colonial Star Maps as Destructon
asteroid.  I've activated my sensors and am probing the area where the
Galactica's rather limited scanners detected lifeforms."
     "Ah!  Vanity, thy name is C.O.R.A."
     "Quiet please, I'm scanning."
     "Oh do forgive me," Starbuck said with amusement but inside, he was
feeling very uneasy.  The more he heard this female voice with its
sarcastic personality, the more he found himself wondering if the
original Cylon race of reptiles had started out with computers like this
when they began the process that led to the creation of the Cylon
robot... and the eventual downfall of their race.
     Some new scanning data appeared on the dashboard readout and
Starbuck could see two contacts.  "I'm picking up two unidentified
sublight vehicles. Bearing is Omega One, Delta eight heading away from
Destructon.  Shall we poke our nose into it further, Starbuck?"
     Starbuck hesitated for an instant and then nodded, "That's what
we're here for, C.O.R.A. But if these unidentified objects turn out to be
Cylons, I'm gonna feel downright silly about not having any weapons."
     "Why do we need weapons?  We've got enough speed to outrun anything
in the universe."
     "I'll believe that when it happens."
     C.O.R.A snorted.  "Nothing to worry about, love.  Just hang on and
I'll bring us close enough to a more definite identification."
     Abruptly, the viper accelerated to maximum speed, and again Starbuck
felt his unease increase, since he was no longer in actual control of the
craft.
     "Will slow to sublight speed in five microns to avoid detection by
either craft, and we can determine what they are."
     "Who they are," he impatiently corrected.
     "Sorry," there was little sense of being apologetic in C.O.R.A.'s
voice.  "Going sublight now.  Will have visual scan identification on
screen in five...four...three...two...one...now!"
     Abruptly, the viper slowed down and an instant later, Starbuck could
see both ships appear on his viewscreen.  One of them looked vaguely
familiar, as though it were an ancient version of a viper craft that he
had once seen in a museum or at an Armament Day parade on Caprica.  The
other had bulkier contours and was less familiar
     "They're ancient," he said aloud.
     "I'd estimate," said the computer, "that both the shuttle and the
pursuit ship date back to the Sixth Millennium at least.  Don't ask me
where in Hades they came from."
     "It isn't likely, though, that they're Cylons."
     "Unless the Cylons have had some budget cuts we don't know about,
no."
     "That shuttle's unarmed, and I don't much like the idea of an
unarmed craft being chased by a fighter."  Starbuck took a quick drag on
his fumarello.  "And it's going to futz up my report on the life forms
hereabouts if somebody kills some of 'em."
     "I have a plan, Bucky.  Suppose we--"
     "Don't," Starbuck warned, "Ever call me Bucky.  If it happens again,
I'm shutting you off! "
     "What then? Starsy?"
     "Lieutenant Starbuck, sir.  Try that."
     "All right, Lieutenant Starbuck, sir."  Again there was nothing
apologetic in the tone.  Had this programmed personality been designed
for 100% attitude and 0% humility? "I'm open to suggestions, if you've
got any."
     Starbuck kept his eyes glued to the screen and saw the ancient
version of a viper open fire on the shuttle.  Whoever the pilot was, his
aim was terrible, as the shots missed.  Clearly, the craft was not
equipped with an accurate attack computer.
     "You got a life form scan for either of them?"
     "Affirmative.  One human in each craft."
     "Human," Starbuck's eyes widened.  "Makes sense, I suppose.  This
was part of the Colonial Frontier a long time ago, so maybe it's had some
remnants that have survived all these hundreds of yahrens."  He paused. 
"How can we give some cover for that shuttle?"
     I was about to suggest a high-speed flyby, Lieutenant Starbuck,
sir," said the computer.  "We'll kick in our second booster within fifty
metrons and force the fighter off course.  Should also scare the poggies
out of him."
     Starbuck stared dubiously at the computer again.  C.O.R.A had just
uttered every clich‚ a hotshot pilot in a bad video-com entertainment
production might have said, and to hear it come from this soft-spoken but
sardonic female voice made it sound even more absurd.
     Wilker, you are a candidate for the loony bin, he thought.
     "Tell you what," said Starbuck, gripping the controls.  "Give me
complete control when I make the pass so I can be sure I avoid a
collision. Release controls."
     "But it's considerably more efficient if my control is maintained!"
     "Release 'em!" Starbuck raised his voice angrily. 
     C.O.R.A. sighed.  "Released, Lieutenant Starbuck, sir."
     Feeling grateful that he had control again, Starbuck grabbed the
control stick and took his viper in on a heading that would take him
straight over the top of the ancient fighter craft that dated back more
than one thousand yahrens in Colonial history.

********************

     The pilot of the rattletrap fighter sat hunched in his seat.  He was
a thickset man of sixty, dressed in trousers and a tunic, both of a
filthy off-white color. His sandy-dark hair was tied back with a twist of
crimson cord.  On one breast of his tunic was a starburst emblem.
     There was an oily, smoky smell in the battered cockpit.  The image
of the pursued shuttle showed fuzzy on the grime-smeared screen of the
dash scanner.
     "Aha!  I gotcha now, Burglar!  You're not gonna get away this time!"
the fighter pilot promised the blurred image of his prey.
     He reached again toward the triggering mechanism of his guns.
     "This'll fix...what in hellfire?"
     Something, a fighter ship maybe, had come whizzing across his stern. 
The ship, like nothing he'd ever seen before, had sent a dazzling
explosion of white searing from its engines.
     Dazzled, confused, the pilot tried a wobbling maneuver that was
intended to get him away from there.
     By the time he regained control of his fighter, there was no sign of
the shuttle he'd been chasing, and no trace of the new craft that had
come flashing out of nowhere at him.
     With a hand that was shaking slightly, he activated his talkmike. 
"This is Captain Kraspo," he said, anger and perplexity mixing in his
voice.  "I've lost contact with the suspect ship and am now returning to
Destructon."  
     "What in hellfire happened out there?" asked the voice on the other
end of the subspace radio.
     "I got buzzed by some joker in a souped-up rocket, just when I had
Burglar in my sights," Kraspo replied. "Probably working with her, I
figure."
     "Sounds like trouble to me," said the man on Destructon.
     "Sounds like?  It is trouble, trooper boy!  I want an all points
bulletin on these ships issued for all squad craft on the double!"

********************

     As soon as Starbuck's viper passed over, he could see the
disorienting effect he'd created on the pilot.  The fighter abruptly
swerved out of control and lost its sense of direction, while ahead, the
shuttle peeled off in the direction of the second asteroid.
     Starbuck pulled up on the stick and retreated to what he knew would
be a safe distance that would keep him out of scanning range of the
fighter, which he could now see had recovered its bearings and was headed
back in the direction of the larger Destructon asteroid.  Clearly, it had
lost track of the shuttle and had decided to abandon its pursuit.
     "Well," Starbuck smiled in satisfaction.  "Not bad, if I do say so."
     "You were fifty-two metrones away when you hit your booster."
     Immediately, the exasperation returned to Starbuck.  "It worked!"
     "It worked---but rather sloppily."
     The brash warrior rolled his eyes in disgust.  "Listen, C.O.R.A,
let's get something straight---"
     "Fighter is disengaging and returning to Proteus.  Shuttlecraft
sustained damage from one hit and is landing on second asteroid, dead
ahead."
     "I can see that!" Starbuck felt his anger increase.  "Do you have to
repeat everything for me?  I've got a brain, you know, so just let me
figure out how to handle this."
     Frak!  Patrolling with a piece of space scum like Quanto would be
preferable to this, he thought as he checked the scanner and saw the
shuttle set down on the unnamed second asteroid.
     "Follow that shuttle," he said finally.
     "May I please land us so I don't have to go through a bouncer?"
     Starbuck came within a fraction of exploding.  "No, you may not!
Just give me the damn vectors for a landing!"
     "Vectors displayed.  And please try not to jolt my chips when you
set us down."
     Lords of Kobol, if I don't get out of this ship for a few microns
and get away from this insufferable nag, I'm going to return to the
Galactica without my sanity!  Starbuck thought as he took the viper in on
a heading that would set him down near the enigma that was the damaged
shuttle.
 
********************

     On the Galactica's bridge, Adama decided it was time to check on the
early status of Recon Viper One before he turned in.  He made his way
over to Omega's station and looked down.
     "Preliminary indication, please."
     "Beacon indicates Lieutenant Starbuck has approached Destructon
system but---" the bridge officer's eyes narrowed, "he appears to be
landing."
     "On Destructon?" Adama frowned.
     "No," Omega shook his head.  "The second asteroid in the system."
     "Is it capable of sustaining human life?"
     Omega punched in several buttons to push the scanning features of
the Galactica to their maximum forward capacity.
     "Yes sir, it is."
     "Good.  He must have something worth investigating so he can't be in
any danger."  The Commander stretched his arms and went back to the upper
level where Tigh maintained his vigil.
     "I'm going to try and squeeze in my sleep period now, Colonel. 
Don't hesitate to disturb me if the situation justifies it."
     "Yes sir," Tigh nodded.  "We'll continue to monitor the situation."
     "Are all of the ships in the Fleet out of the asteroid dust cloud?"
     "Yes sir.  The last one got through centons ago."
     "Then start reactivating our rear scanning beams.  We can't let our
rear flank stay unmonitored."
     The Commander then turned and stretched his arms again as he left
the Bridge.

********************

Chapter Five: Starbuck and Princess Alpha

     Starbuck unhooked his safety gear and looked out through the cockpit
window.  "How'd you like the landing, C.O.R.A.?"
     "It was---passable," answered the computer.
     The asteroid was bleak, a blend of dark, pocked rock and gray
scruffy brush.  There was a gaping cave-mouth nearby, and a few
indications that, yahrens ago this asteroid had been mined. The downed
shuttle was just beyond the next rise.
     "Atmosphere outside acceptable," said C.O.R.A. "No respirator
required."
     He nodded.  "How many people aboard the shuttle?"
     "One.  Human female, twenty-two yahrens of age.  Unarmed."
     Patting his holster, the lieutenant said, "Guess I'll mosey on over
and introduce myself to the lady.  Seems the neighborly thing to do."
     "Watch yourself."
     "I'm touched by your concern."
     "I don't need you to fly off this hunk of rock, hon," said the
computer.  "But if I show up back at the Galactica with your lifeless
corpse, it'll be a black mark against me."
     "Fear not, sweet C.O.R.A, I fully intend to return in the same
pristine condition I'm in now." He opened the canopy.
     "Switching all systems, except marker beacon, to standby mode."
Starbuck stepped free of the Viper.  As his booted feet touched the rocky
ground, the canopy whispered shut behind him.
     He hunched his shoulders once.  It was chilly.  The sky was pitch
black; the stars so spectacular he stopped to take one look in awed
wonder at how such a sight seemed from outside a viper cockpit.  The
abandoned rock/pack-mining droid by the cave opening lay on its side,
brush tangled around its battered exterior.
     Starbuck was still several yards from the downed shuttle, laser gun
in hand, when he heard a metallic bonnnng! He approached cautiously.
     The ship really was a relic, its hull pitted and dented. Two booted
feet stuck out from beneath the shuttle.  The bonging came from there. 
An open tool chest sat near the protruding feet.
     "You here to gawk, guv'nuh? Or are you here to pitch in and help
me?" asked the owner of the feet in a voice that spoke Colonial Standard
but in an Aquarian accent.  What was this 'guv'nuh' business, anyway?  
     Starbuck took a step back.  "Help you," he managed to answer.
     "Jolly good.  Hand me that damn drill functional wrench, will you?" 
From beneath the ship slid a slender young woman of average height.  Her
trousers were splotched with white paint.  A patch of medium-tanned skin
showed through a hole in her tunic, and her jacked looked as though it
had barely escaped a fire.  She was pretty, though; with wide,
green-pupiled almond eyes and long beach-sand blonde hair. "Are you
through ogling me?"
     Starbuck considered her question.  "For now," he answered and passed
her the tool she'd requested.
  
********************

     The young woman wiped the heel of her hand across her perspiring
forehead, leaving behind a fresh gritty streak.  "That ought to do it. 
The damage done by my quick landing's all fixed up," she said, giving the
shuttle a kick and then tossing the electrowrench she'd been using to
Starbuck.  "Be a love and pack that up for me, will you?"
     "Who was that on your tail?" He set down the wrench in the tool
locker.
     She shrugged.  "Pirate.  He's from the Destructon system and let me
tell you there's some nasty mercenary buggers out there, some of them in
cahoots with slavers.  I don't know what the deuce made me cross this
asteroid system anyway."
     She held out a grease-stained right hand.  "Princess Alpha, at your
service."
     "Princess Alpha?  I don't---"
     "Princess is just my nickname, self-appointed title and whatnot. 
Just call me Alpha, if it makes you comfy.  What's your name?"
     "Starbuck."
     Alpha gave a left-shouldered shrug, then brushed her beach-sand
blonde hair back.  "Strange name you have there, guv'nuh," she observed. 
"Anyway, thanks for making that pirate bugger off."  She yanked the door
of her shuttle open and reached inside.
     Automatically, Starbuck whipped out his pistol.
     "Hold it!" he barked.
     "Relax, Starbuck," the young woman said, laughing.  "I assure you my
intentions toward you are quite honorable."
     Starbuck tightened his grip on his pistol, "I said hold it!"
     "Being vigilant are we? I don't blame you.  Care for a drink?"
     He lowered his pistol.  "Well, I suppose after our shared
ordeal...what in hellfire's that?"
     She'd produced a flask of amber liquor from her cabin.  Pulling the
cork out with her teeth, she took a swig.  "Ambrosa," she answered as she
wiped the flaskmouth with the tattered sleeve of her jacket.  "Don't they
have it where you hail from?"
     "Yep.  But it's sort of expensive and..." He accepted the bottle and
drank.  The taste was the most delicious he'd ever known in his life. 
He'd always read how the older ambrosa was, the more its flavor improved
and this surpassed anything he'd ever experienced.
     "By all that's holy!" he said as he took another swig. 
     "I've got a lot more where that came from, guv'nuh," Alpha said.
"And if you're willing to keep your mouth shut, I'd ah...be glad to share
my find with you."
     Starbuck took another sip.  "This stuff is amazing," he said.  "And
from the taste of it, more than a hundred yahrens old."
     "Five hundred, to be exact."
     Starbuck's eyes widened.  "Five hundred?  That's impossible.  There
hasn't been stuff like this around for ages."
     "You never did tell me where you hail from," the woman eyed him with
growing amusement.
     Starbuck ignored her statement.  "Where did you get this?  It can't
be real."
     "It's real."
     The warrior grinned.  "Oh, I get it!  Alpha, Princess of the
Bootleggers, right?"
     "Not exactly.  What you're drinking there is a bonus; part of my
payment for delivering my load of spare agro parts to the farmers on
Bris."
     "Bris?" Already he knew that Alpha couldn't be telling the truth,
since the Star Maps indicated no other settlement other than Destructon
in this region, certainly no other one capable of being shuttled to in
the woman's ancient ship.  "Can't say I've ever heard of it."
     "It's a very small and primitive settlement that's never seen the
likes of the beauty you're flying. I caught a glimpse of it up there, by
the way."
     "I'm sure they haven't." Starbuck finished the bottle.
     "You know, Starbuck, I think I have time to take a quick look at
your ship," the young woman said.
     "Well, it's...different, but..."
     Alpha laughed.  "Don't you trust me?"
     Starbuck thought for a micron.  Her tall-tale about the human
settlement didn't sit well with him, but, on the other hand, if she were
going to make a disagreeable move, she would surely have done so by now. 

     "Okay," he said.  "C'mon.  I'll give you a short tour."
     He noticed, as she walked beside him toward the viper, that he was
only slightly taller than she was, and the hair was the same color.
     When they passed the abandoned mine, Starbuck asked.  "Does this
particular asteroid have a name?"
     "If it does I wouldn't know it, Starbuck.  I'm merely passing
through."
     "How did you know where to land?"
     "Intuition.  You bloody well need it when you fly an old clunker
like mine," she explained.  "I've got emergency landing spots charted all
over my run," Alpha said.  "But I can't fill you in on the local history
of a damned one."
     They reached the Viper and Starbuck opened the door. "Welcome to my 
home away from home," he gestured at the interior with his hand.
     She moved up beside him, glancing inside.  "Damn, that's really
something," she said admiringly.  
     "Before you rush back to your shuttle," he said.  "I'd like to know
how much ambrosa you're hauling. It's got to be worth a fortune!" 
     Already Starbuck wondered if he'd stumbled on something that would
help him net a lifetime's worth of dinners and private rooms on the
Rising Star.  
     "Well," Alpha said, "more than you or I could haul out of here, but
this ship doesn't look like it was made for cargo, it looks more like if
was made for---" She looked back at Starbuck.  "Wait a centon.  You're
not a bloody pirate yourself, are you?  You're not going to kill me, are
you?"
     "Heyyy! Don't be frightened.  I'm a little leery of pirates myself. 
How many of those guys are there, that were chasing you?"
     She turned away and looked up at the stars. "It's a pretty rough
sector you know.  Plenty of asteroids around where they can hide and come
out and rob and maim you."  She topped and turned back to Starbuck.  "You
wouldn't be some advance scout for some kind of convoy, would you?"
     Starbuck chuckled.  "No, no, this would be a very bad place to bring
an unarmed ship, wouldn't it?"
     Starbuck threw the empty bottle down into the brush, wishing he
could look inside that shuttle.  In his mind's eye, he could see an
awesome number of piled cases containing dozens of bottles that an Elite
Class member would pay at least five thousand cubits for just one.
     "What kind of range do you think these pirates have?"
     With Starbuck's back turned to her, the woman abruptly picked up the
discarded bottle and brought it crashing down on the back of his head. 
In an instant, the warrior crashed to the ground, unconscious.
     The young blonde woman stepped back from Starbuck's sprawled,
unconscious body.  Hands on hips, she said, "Sorry about that, love,
since you don't seem like a bad sort.  But Kraspo is most likely still
hunting for me out there and I need something a hell of a lot faster than
my old shuttle."
     Bending, she grabbed him under the arms and dragged him across the
rocky ground until he was a safe distance from the ship.  She turned and
walked over to the ship.

********************

     Athena had spent nearly two centons conversing with Cassiopeia over
several glasses of ambrosa and three helpings of protein before they
finally agreed to return to the Galactica and part company.  The both of
them felt they'd exhausted the number of unflattering things they could
possibly say about Starbuck.  And ultimately, the both of them found
themselves parting with a mutual admiration and respect for each other,
despite the circumstances of the evening.
     Despite three glasses of ambrosa, Athena didn't feel the least bit
impaired, and she still felt too much pent-up vim and vigor inside her to
think of turning in.  She decided to go back to the Bridge and resume her
ship.  
     "Colonel Tigh," she said as she arrived, I'd like to monitor the
status of Recon Viper One."
     The executive officer nodded.  "I have no objections. Omega could
sure use the relief, though."
     Athena found the Bridge Officer grateful to finally give up his
vigil watching the silent screen.  Omega gave her a full briefing on
everything that had happened up to now, and then left the bridge to begin
his own sleep period.
     Ten centons passed as Athena kept her eye on the asteroid where the
viper's beacon continued to flash.  Then she noticed it move, indicating
that it had taken off.

********************

     Alpha climbed into the cockpit, placing the discarded helmet on her
head then settled in at the controls.
     Before sealing the canopy shut and saying a prayer to the Lords that
she had failed to honor for so much of her life, she took a farewell look
out at Starbuck.  "You'll be okay till we come back here for my cargo,"
she said.  "Right now, I have to concentrate on ditching that bloke
Kraspo."
     Hunching in the seat, she studied the controls.  Brow furrowed, she
drummed her grease-stained fingers on the dash.  "Sure, I can handle this
thing," Alpha decided after a moment or two.  
     She hit the launch control button.  In an instant, she could feel a
surge of power unlike any other she'd known in her life as the Recon
Viper took off from the asteroid and assumed an uneven heading.
     "Blimey!" she whispered.  "I say! I had absolutely no idea the
Colonies had become so advanced after all this time.  They must have a
bloomin' paradise back there by now."
     But she knew that if she didn't figure out how the rest of these
systems worked, her flight would be a short one, and with it, her life
would probably come to an end.
     She began to hit the various switches and knobs she could see,
hoping that one of them would give her clear instruction on how to
maneuver this craft.  Finally, her dainty hand swept over the switch
labeled C.O.R.A.
     "Finally decided to turn me back on, eh?"
     Alpha looked about the cockpit in stunned disbelief, and it took her
a half-centon to finally realize where the voice had come from.
     "Shall I scan for that fighter?"
     Immediately, Alpha began to relax as she realized she'd found the
key to what she was looking for.
     "Negative," she said.
     "Who the dickens are you?" a cold air abruptly entered C.O.R.A's
voice.
     "Can you fly this ship?"
     "Affirmative," the cold air persisted. "Who are you?"
     "All right then, control is yours," she said.  "Assume course to
asteroid mass one zero, seven, seven five on the far edge of this binary
system, bearing delta seven."
     "Computed," C.O.R.A. said.  "Where's Starbuck?"
     Alpha ignored her question.  "Prepare to transmit intergalactic
signal on narrow beam."
     "Affirmative," C.O.R.A persisted.  "What've you done with him, you
floozie?"
     "Just do as you're told," Alpha settle back and smiled.  "And thank
you very much."

********************

     Commander Adama moved through the bridge of the Galactica until he
stood beside Athena.  "What's the latest word on Lieutenant Starbuck?"
     "The short-range marker indicates Recon Viper One is climbing back
into---wait a centon!" She watched the beacon assume a new heading,
taking it in the direction of something that the Galactica's sensors had
not previously noticed.  "It's heading for a larger, denser group of
asteroids located on the back side of this binary star system."
     "Maintain tracking," the commander said to his daughter.  He may be
on to something."
     "Probably a redhead."
     "What was that?"
     "Thinking aloud, sorry.  Rigel," she called over, "does Stellar
Cartography have readings on that other group of asteroids?"
     "Negative," the young flight corporal answered.  "They're not on the
charts at all.  Destructon is the only one named."
     "I see. Thanks."  She shook her head slightly.  "I wonder what he
sees there?"
     Resting a hand on her shoulder, the commander leaned closer to the
screen.  Frowning at the information being displayed there, he said, "I
don't quite understand this."
     "Recon Viper One is transmitting, but..."
     "Yes."  Adama's eyes narrowed.  "It's a long range signal."
     "And it's not scrambled either," Athena added.  "It's...some kind of
code being sent on a narrow beam."
     Colonel Tigh came over, a look of horror coming over his face. 
"What's that fool doing?  He might as well be broadcasting a signal
direct to the Cylons!"
     "Perhaps," suggested a baffled Adama, "his short-pulse transmitter
has somehow been rendered inoperative."
     "It's possible," said Athena, stroking her cheek as she watched the
console screen.  "But then...why would he use an unknown code to send an
unscrambled message?"
     "I suggest," said Tigh, "that we check the Cylon codes."
     Nodding, Adama said, "We've got to check every possibility."
     "I think it's obvious what's happened, Commander," said the black
colonel. We have to assume that either a Cylon or Cylon sympathizer is
now in control of Recon Viper One."
     "It could be Starbuck," said Athena, "who's sending this message,
Colonel.  True, we don't know why he's using this particular code, but
maybe---"
     "If that isn't a message to the Cylons," said Tigh, "it's at least a
beacon that can lead them to this sector."
     Athena punched instructions into her machine.  A moment passed and
then her answer appeared.  "Whatever the code is, it doesn't match any
known Cylon patterns," she said. "With all due respect, Colonel, we
cannot assume any such thing!"
     "Just a centon," Adama held up a hand to signal for order.  "Whether
this matches something the Cylons use or not is irrelevant at this
point."
     "Exactly!" Tigh emphasized.  "That message is being beamed back into
the home quadrant, toward the Colonies.  Even if it's not a message to
them, it ultimately acts as a beacon for the Cylons to guide them here,
right to scanning range of the entire Fleet!  We have to stop that
transmission!"
     Athena said nothing, glancing up at her father.
     Commander Adama said, "Alert my son, immediately.  Him
and...Lieutenant Boomer.  They both know what they'll have to do."
     "Yessir!" Tigh said alertly as he moved off.

********************

     Apollo had returned to his quarters a centar earlier and found Boxey
sound asleep.  A book lay open on his chest, indicating that the little
tyke had been reading it before he'd fallen asleep.
     Gingerly, Apollo picked it up so as not to disturb his son, and he
frowned.  The book was an illustrated edition of The Facts of the All
Seeing Primal, an addendum to the Book of the Word that had never been
accepted as part of the Holy Writings by established theologians because
the earliest known copies were not considered old enough to be considered
authentic.  But the recent experience on Kobol had laid that controversy
to rest, as the ancient ruins had validated everything The Facts of the
All Seeing Primal had said about Kobol's last days and the journey of the
twelve tribes to the Colonies.
     Instead of going to bed himself, Apollo sat down in the chair across
from Boxey's bed and began to thumb through the volume, finding it
fascinating that his son would be reading a book about such a deep
subject.  Then he remembered that his father likely would have encouraged
Boxey to read it, in order to learn more about the origins of mankind,
and also have the principles of his people's faith reinforced in him.
     After flipping through the pages, he realized that this was an
adapted version of the Facts, written specifically for young children. 
Many colorful illustrations filled the volume, depicting scenes of life
on Kobol, the decay that led to the death of the mother planet, and the
plans to leave Kobol.
     Maps and space scenes also dotted the pages too.  It was definitely
an effective way of introducing a young mind to what might have otherwise
seemed like a dry piece of text.
     So fascinated was Apollo by the presentation that he found himself
reading it for a full half-centar before he fell asleep in his chair. 
And then, just a half-centar later, he heard the chime sounding, jolting
both him and Boxey awake, and causing Muffit to emit an electronic bark.
     When he opened the door, he saw a grim-faced Boomer standing in the
threshold.
     "Get yourself ready, buddy," his friend said grimly.  Something
serious just happened."


********************

     The two warriors went promptly down to the launch bay, where Apollo
and Boomer received a full briefing from Adama over the vid-com unit.  As
soon as it was over, they went to their vipers and prepared for
departure.
     "It's as bad as it can get," Apollo said.  "Because of that
long-range transmission, we have to seek out and destroy Recon Viper
One."
     "Shoot first and ask questions later?" Boomer could scarcely believe
he was being thrust into this situation.  "Aren't we going to at least
try to establish communications first?"
     "Negative," Apollo said firmly.  "If that recon viper kicks in those
pulse generators, it'll leave us chewing ion vapors in an instant and be
out of range.  If we get him lined up in our sights, we're only going to
have one chance to take him out."
     "Well, if those are the orders---" Boomer grunted.  "What if
Starbuck's still in the damn thing?"
     "He's not, Boomer.  It can't be him flying that viper; he wouldn't
pull such a foolish stunt."
     "All the more reason for taking that pilot alive," the dark skinned
warrior protested.  "He can lead us to Starbuck."
     "Boomer, that isn't our first concern!" Apollo raised his voice as
he sealed the canopy of his viper shut.  "Our first concern is cutting
off that transmission and making sure the Cylons don't have a beacon to
this sector of space where they'd be able to scan the Fleet.  Determining
Starbuck's fate is purely secondary right now."
     "Okay," Boomer closed his own canopy too. "But when we do achieve
that objective, do we at least try to find out whether he's alive or---"
     "Not now, Boomer!  We've got to get going and fast!  So let's end
this pointless conversation and get started."
     "Give me a break, Apollo!"
     "It is so ordered!"
     The fight was gone from Boomer's voice.  "Yessir!" he muttered.
     And then, both vipers launched.

********************

Chapter Six: The Long Arm Of The Law

     Far away, in a sector of space that was behind the asteroid dust
cloud already crossed by the Colonial Fleet, Lucifer passed through the
sliding glass doors that led to Baltar's throne room.  He decided that
prudence dictated putting no spin on the information he was about to
present, and to let the commander make his own judgment.
     At this point, the IL Cylon knew that such deference was the only
thing that Baltar expected of him.  Even though it had been nearly two
sectars since the Battle of Kobol, and Baltar had long since recovered
from his injuries sustained in the wreckage of the collapsed tomb of the
Ninth Lord, Lucifer had the sense that Baltar's anger had still not
completely faded over the incident.  If Lucifer wanted to avoid some
direct reprogramming to his circuits that would all be to ensure a
permanent fate for him as Baltar's obedient servant, with all hopes of
future ambition permanently removed, then the more deference he showed
the traitor the better.
     So be it, the IL had long ago decreed to himself with resignation. 
He at least had the luxury of knowing that as a Cylon, he could
theoretically outast Baltar come what may.
     "By your command," he said as he reached the base of the throne.
     It turned around slowly, all its servomechanisms softly purring, and
Baltar gazed down at him with the same demonic glare Lucifer had known
for the last two sectars.
     "Speak."
     "A curious development.  We have picked up a message aimed in our
direction that is being transmitted in some strange and totally unknown
code."
     "Totally unknown?" the traitor seemed unimpressed.  "You have
cross-checked this code through all the manuals, have you not?"
     "Indeed we have, Baltar, but the results continue to leave us
baffled.  It is not one of our codes, nor does it match any known code
used by the Colonial Fleet in the last several yahrens, for which we do
have full and complete records."
     "It is unlikely to offer us any clue to the Galactica's whereabouts,
then," Baltar said.  "Nevertheless, launch a probe group of fighters to
investigate.  No more than three, so we don't arouse suspicion."
     "By your command."  As was his custom of the last two sectars,
Lucifer didn't bother to challenge any of Baltar's orders.  The IL Cylon
turned and departed.


********************

     Starbuck made a racket.
     It was a rude racket, suggesting disappointment with his current
position in life.  He had just awakened to find himself sprawled, face
down, on the uncomfortable surface of a small-time asteroid in the middle
of nowhere.  And there was a sensation of excruciating pain throbbing in
his head.
     "Damn that female crasody!" he muttered as he pushed himself to a
sitting position.  His stomach started doing loops inside him.
     Lying beside him was a broken ambrosa bottle.
     After making another unhappy noise, Starbuck got to his feet.
     Slowly, he turned toward his viper.
     "Frack, felgercarb and shit!" he remarked.
     The ship was gone, C.O.R.A. with it.
     Starbuck looked up into the dark sky.  "Out of the kindness of my
heart I stop to aid a damsel in distress," he said in a moderately
self-pitying tone.  "I try to do a good deed and what does it get me?  A
lump on the ole noggin."  Very gingerly, he touched the spot where
Princess Alpha had slugged him.
     "You are dumb, Starbuck, completely dumb," he muttered, starting to
pace.  "You trusted a woman who says she's going to a human settlement
that doesn't exist. But you open up your ship, show her its luxurious
interior and then turn your stupid back on her."
     He kicked at the dirt, raising a cloud of dust.
     "Behaved like first orbit cadet.  A stranger offers me a drink and
before I know it I'm knocked out.  Guess I'm lucky she didn't swipe my
pants, too."
     The best thing to do, he decided, was to stop feeling sorry for
himself, and quit being mad at Alpha. None of that would get him
anywhere.
     "Hey, at least she was a knockout."
     It was thoughts like that that'd got him in trouble to begin with. 
If only Alpha had been a begrimed male spacemariner, he'd never have
turned his back.
     "Right now, hotshot," Starbuck reminded himself, "what we have to do
is get off this particular chunk of real estate."
     Still feeling woozy, he staggered over the rise to Alpha's shuttle. 
At least it was still there.
     "Maybe I can track that lady down and retrieve my Viper," he said as
he opened the door to the shuttle's smelly cabin.  "Yep, that's what I
gotta do, all right.  Because I sure as Hades don't want to go limping
back to the Galactica in this thing and tell 'em a girl barely out of her
teens stole a sophisticated warplane."
     The cabin wasn't much. It reeked of urnitroleum, tylium and old age. 
A clay flowerpot perched on the control panel, holding what might be an
adderanium.  A length of scarlet ribbon was tangled around the talkmike.
     The control panel itself seemed like a lost cause.  It was so out of
date and in need of maintenance that he found it amazing this ship had
been able to fly at all.
     "Flying this clunker is going to be like taking part in a historical
pageant on the early days of space flight," he said with exasperation. 
"Of all the times for me to wish I still had that blasted C.O.R.A."
     Starbuck lit a fumarello and settled into the pilot's seat.
     He activated the ignition thrusters, hoping they would catch, but
nothing happened.  It occurred to him that Alpha, who'd probably been
planning to steal his ship all along, had only pretended the shuttle was
fixed.
     "Frak!  She got me again!" he yelped, sighing out smoke.

********************

     Starbuck just about had the damage to the engines of the ancient
shuttle repaired.  He came sliding from underneath the crate to get a new
wrench.
     "I can still catch up with that...that...oh- oh!"
     A thick, weatherbeaten man in dirty white clothes was standing
beside the shuttle.  There was a silvery starburst emblazoned on the left
breast pocket of his jacket and a laser pistol in his right hand. 
"You're a new one," he said.
     "I am, yes.  A privateer actually, simply passing through your
galaxy."
     "Where's Burglar?"
     "Burglar?"
     "Where is she?"
     "Oh!  You must mean Princess Alpha, Mr..."
     "Captain," the weatherbeaten man corrected.  "Trooper Captain
Kraspo."
     "I'm Starbuck," he said pleasantly, with a friendly and cordial
smile.  "See, I set down here in my own ship to see what was wrong with
this shuttle and...well, what with one thing and another I ended up
stranded.  So I've been putting this crate back into---"
     Kraspo ignored Starbuck's story. "All right, so she's calling
herself by another name. She's still Burglar to me. So tell me where she
is---and I mean now!"
     Starbuck said.  "Didn't you hear me?  I said I didn't know."
     "Maybe when I haul your astrum back to Destructon you'll be in a
more loquacious mood."
     "Somehow I don't think so," said Starbuck.  "The lady in question's
got my ship.  I haven't, really, much of an idea where she's rocketed off
to.  You're the local law, huh?"
     "Are you pretending you don't know that?" Kraspo's laugh was cold
and thin.
     "For Sagan's sake, Kraspo, I'm only passing through."
     "Captain Kraspo."
     "Captain Kraspo.  The point is, I'm a stranger here myself," said
the lieutenant.
     "And I suppose you don't know what Burglar's tub is hauling?"
     "She told me it was farm implements," said Starbuck.
     "All right then, let's have a look at those 'farm implements.'"
Kraspo gestured at the shuttle's open cabin doorway with his gun hand.
     "Won't you take my word for it?"
     "No, I will not!  Now get on in there, Mr. Starbuck.  Fast."
     Shrugging he complied.  "Not all that cozy in here, is it?"
     "Open, very slowly and carefully, that door to the cargo chamber."
     "Okay."  Starbuck crossed to the metal door and tugged it open.
     Inside the hold were dozens of wooden crates; each of them marked
Agritools in airbrushed stenciled letters.
     "See?  Just like a said."
     "Bring one of those crates outside."
     Picking up a crate, Starbuck hefted it out into the open.  "Funny
how farm tools gurgle when you heft 'em," he observed, depositing the
crate on the ground.
     "Use that crowbar from the tool chest there," ordered Kraspo,
continuing to point with the gun barrel.  "Open the thing."
     "You know, I've seen farm tools before," said Starbuck, hesitating,
"and they're not that exciting."
     "Open it and quit stalling."
     "Okay, sure."  He used the metal bar to lift the lid off the wooden
box.  "Damn!"
     There were no tools inside.  Instead he saw eight full bottles of
ambrosa resting on straw.
     "Farm implements, eh?" Kraspo snarled.  "You've got a shuttle load
full of ambrosa that came from Destructon.  I saw that broken bottle back
over the ridge so don't try to tell me you didn't know that.  Bootlegging
and lying to a Trooper carry stiff penalties Know what they are?"
     "No, but I'll bet I'm gonna find out," answered Starbuck.  He
stooped and picked up the crate that didn't contain farm tools.  "I
suppose you'll want to take this along as evidence," he said, carrying it
closer to the lawman.
     "Leave it lay!" ordered Kraspo.  "I'm sending a crew back here to
pick up the whole damn cargo."
     "Can't collar me in without evidence.  Better take at least this one
along in your---"
     "Drop it!"
     "Very well, if you insist."  He appeared to stumble and when he
dropped the heavy crate, it landed on Kraspo's foot.
     "You stupid---"
     Dodging to one side, Starbuck then dived at him.  
     Kraspo's gun had swung wide at the moment the crate hit him.  Before
he could swing it back toward Starbuck, the warrior jabbed him hard in
the stomach with an elbow.  Then he grabbed Kraspo's gun wrist.
     "Hate to resist arrest," said Starbuck apologetically, "but you
leave me no other choice."
     Using Kraspo's arm as a lever, he flipped the man to the ground.
     Kraspo's breath came whooshing out on impact.
     Starbuck wrenched the laser gun from his grip and flung it to the
side.  Then he delivered two impressive jabs to Kraspo's chin.
     The thick lawman went slack, settled out on his back.
     After gathering up the gun, Starbuck dragged the unconscious man
over to the shuttle.  "Think I saw some rope in the cabin that'll do for
trussing you up for a spell," he said.  "Then, since borrowing seems so
popular in these parts, I'm going to take your fighter and go find the
dear young lady who started this whole frakkin' mess."

********************

Chapter Seven: C.O.R.A Is Recovered

     "Man, what a clunker," remarked Starbuck as he set a landing pattern
for the borrowed fighter.
     He'd been able to use the old-fashioned tracking gear in the
lawman's ship to get a fix on his missing Viper.  The craft had landed on
a lush green planetoid.
     "Boy, I can't wait to meet that thieving she-lupus again," he said,
lighting a fresh fumarello.  "Conks me on the dome, leaves me on a dinky
asteroid with her disabled shuttle, and leaves me holding a cargo of hot
ambrosa."
     He wondered where the stuff came from.  Aged ambrosa of that quality
wasn't easy to come by and here was this double-dealing lass rattling
around with a shipload of the stuff.
     He was coming in above fields of grain and high, nearly orange grass
that fluttered like pennants in a mild breeze.  And there, in a clearing
between the fields and a sprawling forest, sat his Viper.
     Stabuck took a satisfied drag on his fumarello.  "Gotcha now,
Princess Alpha!"
     Starbuck set the borrowed fighter down a hundred yards from his
recon ship.  He stayed in the cabin for a moment, narrowing his eyes and
scanning the area.
     A faint breeze rustled the high grass on his left.  To his right a
forest of tangle-branched trees rose high and silent.  Overhead three
pale green birds circled and drifted.
     "Let's have our showdown and get it over with."  He climbed free of
the fighter, gun drawn and stood facing the Viper.
     The cockpit door hung open.  There was no sign of anyone inside.
     Cautiously, Starbuck approached the ship.  The green birds high
above cawed and shrieked.  The whole area felt empty, deserted.
     "Where in Hades is she?"
     He stalked up to the cockpit, breath held, and looked inside.
     It was empty.
     "C.O.R.A.," he said to the computer, "what's up?"
     The computer responded.  "Starbuck?  Is it really you?"
     "The one and only."
     "It's sure a load off my mind.  I really thought that blonde hussy
had---"
     "Where is she?"
     "Are you okay, hon?  I've been worried silly, because I didn't know
if she'd done you in or simply abandoned you.  I've been sitting here
trying to figure out how to repair the Viper so I could go back and---"
     "Repair it?"
     "Now, don't lose your temper, hon.  There was a little, very minor,
damage when I forced the ship to come down here instead---"
     "Forced it?" He climbed into the cockpit.
     "I have to tell you," the computer said.  "It was a real uphill
battle.  Even though I'm only a computer I have to abide by the basic
rules of robotics.  Therefore I had to make a choice between serving her
and---"
     "You mean you sabotaged things after she hijacked this crate?"
     "I feel awful about it, since I'm not supposed to do things like
that."
     "Where was she trying to get to?"
     "To this planetoid, but about a hundred hectares to the south.  I
threw a spanner into that little plan.  My idea was to make the wench
think the ship was on the fritz to get her outside of it."
     "Where is she now?  Did you do something to her?"
     "Is that concern I sense?"
     "Just tell me where she is."
     "Heading for home on foot," answered C.O.R.A.  "It's her intention,
or so I gathered when she was ranting at me and the ship, to get some of
her cronies to come back and repair the Viper.  But don't bank on that. 
I doubt she'll make it home."
     Starbuck blew out smoke.  "Why not?"
     "This is apparently hostile country for her.  So it's nearly certain
she'll be killed by some rival faction or other...Sorry, I don't have all
the details, but it's really not that important.  One little group preys
on another; that's the way of the world," said C.O.R.A."
     "You let that kid walk off into the wilds alone?"
     "Starbuck, she's your enemy."
     He scowled.  "Yeah, that's half right," he admitted.  "But I can't
just let Princess Alpha get killed, even if she is an outlaw."
     "Princess Alpha?  You mean you've gone gaga over royalty?"
     "That's only an honorary title.  And underneath that hard,
grease-stained exterior, she's just a young woman who---"
     "---left you for dead and stole me, hon."
     "Aw, she didn't bop me that hard."
     "I can scarcely believe my ears."
     "You don't have ears."
     "Metaphorically speaking, I do.  As a warrior you should have
arrived here with nothing but revenge and retribution on your mind."
     "As a matter of fact, C.O.R.A, that's essentially what I was
thinking about," he said.  "But then...I just can't stand the idea of her
being out there in the wilds alone."
     "You can't be foolish enough to think you can go in after her."
     "If not me then who?  In a way, it's our fault she's in danger."
     "All right, suppose you do follow her?  Whatever it is that's
lurking in that wild wood to kill her will just end up killing you as
well."
     "I can take care of myself."
     "How'd you get here, by the way?"
     "Borrowed a Trooper's fighter.  That other ship we saw."
     "A Trooper?  You've already clashed with an official of the area?"
     "How long ago did she take off?"
     "Not long, moments.  She headed south."
     "Okay, wait here, C.O.R.A.  I won't be long."
     "Starbuck," she said as he headed for the doorway.  "There's
something else you ought to know."
     "More good news?"
     "She made a long-range call."
     "To where?  To who?"
     "To whom is the correct---"
     "Spare me the grammar lesson and tell me."
     "She was trying to contact the planet Aquaria."
     "But that's controlled by the Cylons.  She can't be one of their
agents."
     "I personally don' t think she, whatever else awful she is, is a
Cylon spy, no.  I have the impression she hasn't even heard about the
destruction of the Colonies," said Cora.  "The code she used, although I
haven't been able to break it, isn't one of the Cylons'."
     Scratching his blonde hair, Starbuck observed, "This is getting
goofier and goofier."
     "Let's forget it and get ourselves off this planetoid right now,"
suggested the computer.  "The Cylons may have used that signal to lead
some of their fighters right to us."
     "That's possible, but I have to find that girl."  He dropped from
the ship.  "See you soon."
     "You're being very foolish," called C.O.R.A.
     He moved away from the Viper.

********************

Chapter Eight: The Forest And The Trees

     The woodlands closed in on Starbuck.  The thick, twisted branches of
the tall trees interlaced high above his head, shutting off most of the
light.  The brush, in dozens of shades of green and orange, grew thick
and tangled on each side of the narrow trail he was following.  Far off,
almost lost in the dark, straight lines of trees, were faint animal
rustlings and the thin cries of strange birds.
     "Not an ideal spot for a furlon," the lieutenant said to himself.
     Maybe, as the efficient C.O.R.A had pointed out, this whole thing
was stupid.  Alpha, after all, seemed to be a pretty spacewise young
woman.  She could probably take care of herself, even in what was
supposed to be hostile country.
     "I wonder what makes it hostile," Starbuck reflected as he trekked
along the forest trail.  "Wild animals, wild men...what?"
     Starbuck continued through the shadowy silence for a while, and then
he saw a bulky shape looming up ahead.  Easing out his laser gun, he
slowed his pace.
     "Take it easy, Starbuck.  It's only jitters," he said a moment
later.
     It was a derelict zaptractor, slumped at the edge of the trail,
oxidized and taken over by knobby, large-leaved creepers.
     Just beyond the ancient tractor the woods ended and lexon after
lexon of fields stretched away.  Once this was farm land, a cultivated
area.  But that was a long time ago and the forest had been reclaiming
the land for quite a while.  The fields were overrun with tall grass and
wild flowers.  Saplings had begun to grow here and there.
     About a quarter-hectare to his right stood three low sprawling
buildings.  Starbuck decided to take a look at them.
     Weathered and peeling lettering on the front of the three deserted
buildings spelled out Merchant Acumen Agroservices Pty. Ltd./Plantation
4A
     "Business is definitely not booming," observed Starbuck as he
wandered from the office to the warehouse.
     Suddenly, he threw himself flat out on the grass, bringing up his
gun hand.
     There was someone sitting on a wooden chair near the open doorway of
the domed warehouse.
     After watching the figure for a micron, Strabuck realized it wasn't
moving at all and didn't seem to be aware of him.
     Cautiously he got to his feet and moved in closer.
     It was an old droid, in roughly humanoid shape, clad in the ragged
remains of a pair of coveralls.  Its gunmetal-gray skin was pitted and
stained.  One of the plastic eyes was cracked and hung limply from its
socket by a coil of multicolored wire. The arms hung like wet noodles at
its sides and the droid gave the impression it hadn't moved in yahrens.
     When Starbuck halted in front of the mechanism, its head gave a
creaky nod.  "G'day...g'day...g'day..." it croaked in a rusty voice and
then ceased to speak or move.
     "Same to you, guy," said Starbuck.  He walked on by and into the
warehouse.
     The high-celinged room was big and empty.  A scatter of small,
yellow birds was roosting on one of the rafters.
     Starbuck noticed something on the dusty floor a few yards away. 
"Hold it," he said, trotting over to it.
     He knelt and confirmed his initial impression.  It was the faded
jacked Alpha had been wearing.
     There were signs in the dust that some kind of struggle had taken
place on this spot.  Worse, he saw several small splotches of what
appeared to be human blood.

********************

     Apollo spoke into his helmet mike.  "Looks like this is the place,
Boomer," he said as his Viper circled low over the area on the planetoid
where Starbuck's recon ship had sat down.
     "That's Recon Viper One, as I live and breathe," said Boomer from
his ship.  "Who do you think that rundown fighter belongs to?"
     "An antique collector, probably," They'd followed the Viper beacon's
signal to the planetoid and now Apollo tried again to try to contact the
craft.  "Calling Recon Viper One.  Starbuck, are you aboard?"
     "I sure do wish he were, fella," answered a distraught feminine
voice.
     "This is Captain Apollo, from the Battlestar Galactica," he said. 
"Am I talking to C.O.R.A?"
     "You certainly are, Captain."
     "Where's Starbuck?"
     "It's a long story."
     "Is he alive?"
     "He was, and I sincerely hope he still is."
     "Is it safe to land?"
     "Oh, yes."
     "Who does that fighter belong to?"
     "Well, right now, to Starbuck more or less.  He stole it, you see,
in order to chase that dreadful outlaw girl who---"
     "We'll land," Apollo informed her.
     "Figures there'd be a woman involved in it somehow," commented
Boomer.  "That's Starbuck for you."
     "Sure sounds like him," said Apollo. "If I didn't know any better,
I'd swear the damn computer's got a crush on Starbuck."

********************

     Apollo sat in the cockpit of the recon ship.  Boomer leaned in
through the open canopy.  "Calm down, C.O.R.A," the captain was telling
the hysterical computer.
     "It's simply that I'm quite concerned about him."
     "Just fill us in," requested Apollo, "on what happened."
     "He's gone in search of her."
     "In search of who?"
     "In search of whom," corrected C.O.R.A  "That awful young woman who
calls herself Princess Alpha."
     "She's the one who borrowed this Viper?"
     "That's what I've been trying to tell you.  The hussy stole it,
after poor dear Bucky had tried to help her get off that asteroid."
     "Did you hear that, Apollo?  She called him Bucky!" Boomer laughed.
     "Where is Starbuck now?" Apollo asked.
     "Searching for her.  I made the mistake...when you're programmed for
honesty, it's impossible to tell a lie...I mentioned that she'd have to
travel across hazardous country on her way home."
     "What kind of hazards?"
     "Insufficient data, I'm afraid," answered C.O.R.A.  "Unless, of
course you want me to run some scans of the area."
     "No time for that," he said.  "Which way did Starbuck head when he
took off after this lady?"
     "South, you'll see the trail yonder," the computer replied.  "I told
him it wasn't worth the risk."
     "As if that could ever stop Starbuck," said Boomer.

********************

Chapter Nine:  The Pit

     Starbuck shook the decrepit droid again by its shoulders.  "What
happened to the girl?  What did you see?"
     The weathered mechanism that sat beside the warehouse door replied,
"G'day...g'day..."
     "C'mon," urged the impatient lieutenant.  "You're not completely
defunct.  You must've seen something."
     "G'day...mate...everything fair dinkum with you?...Yep...good crop
this season...G'day...mate...g'day..."
     Snorting, Starbuck let the robot fall back into its chair.  "Thanks,
you sodkicking rivet-head."
     "...g'day...g'day..."
     Starbuck stepped clear and began examining the weedy ground around
the entrance of the Merchant Acumen warehouse.  He saw bootprints from at
least two pairs of feet and, unfortunately, a few more sprinkles of fresh
blood.
     "Well that's certainly a trail I can follow," Starbuck said,
narrowing his eyes.  "I just hope I don't find her surprised corpse at
the end of it."
     Slowly and carefully, he began moving away from the vacant
warehouse.
     "...drop in anytime, you hear?...don't forget some meat for the
barbi..." rasped the droid.

********************

     The forest started closing in on Starbuck, again.  The smell of
stagnant water was growing in the air.  A thin mist came filtering down
to him from the treetops.
     Starbuck whistled for a moment, with his tongue placed against the
back of his teeth.
     The woodlands grew darker and colder.  The mist came twisting around
his ankles in frayed streamers.
     The signs were still easy to follow.  Two men had passed this way
recently, one of them carrying something.  Starbuck was pretty sure that
something was Princess Alpha.
     But was she alive...or dead? And how badly was she injured?
     Shaking his head, he said to himself, "I'm really getting silly as I
grow older.  What am I doing getting upset and anxious over a girl I
don't even know?"
     And it wasn't as though their brief encounter had been especially
friendly or cordial.  About the only redeeming feature about the girl who
called herself Princess Alpha was that she hadn't whacked him hard enough
to crack his skull.
     "I suppose it's because she's cute," he muttered.
     The mist swirled even thicker all about him.  Up ahead, a mournful
bird cried once.
     Starbuck was going to have a hard time of it when he returned to the
Galactica.  He'd have to draw upon all his skills in the arts of evasion
and propaganda to justify what he was doing now.
     He grinned.  "I wouldn't be living up to my reputation if I didn't
go off on---"
     "Somebody!  Anybody!"
     A woman's voice had called out from somewhere in the misty forest on
his right.
     "Don't let them hurt me!"
     "Alpha?" he yelled.
     No reply.
     Starbuck tugged his laser pistol free of its holster as he left the
trail.  The bluish mist tattered and broke apart as he pushed his way
through it.  He had a fair notion of where the cries had come from.
     "Please help me!"
     Starbuck couldn't see a damn thing in this thick mist.
     The voice that was crying for help sounded like Alpha and yet it
didn't.
     "But there can't be two girls in trouble in this same patch of
woods."
     He had to slow down, since he could no longer see more than a a few
miles ahead of him.
     Everything---from his footfalls to the sounds of the forest---was
muffled.
     "Help!"
     Aiming at the latest call, Starbuck quickened his pace.
     After just five paces, the ground opened up and swallowed him.

********************

     She was tall with piercing aquamarine eyes and collar-length downy
light-brown hair. She wore dark trousers, a black sleeveless tunic and a
thick gunbelt that sported two holsters.  The holsters were empty,
because the twin laser pistols were in her hands and pointing down at
Starbuck.
     He stood in the deep pit he'd fallen into.  He'd discovered, before
the appearance of the two-gun maiden, that he could not reach the rim
simply by jumping for it.
     "Forgive me for blunding into your animal snare, miss," he said up
at the girl.  "If you'll give me a hand getting out, I'll be happy to
help you replace all the branches, leaves and tigs back over the top. 
That way, a real beast that comes strolling by will never know what hit
him."
     "Do you enjoy hearing your own daggit drivel?"
     "Sure."
     "That's unfortunate, because I sure as Hades don't!"
     Starbuck scrutinized her.  "Why do I get the feeling you're not very
sympathetic to my plight?"
     "This frakkin' hole was meant for you, whorespawn!"
     "You did all this just for me? I'm touched."
     "We got some old droids who do it."
     "How'd you know I was coming?"
     "She said you might be."
     "Alpha?  You've got her?"
     The girl laughed.  It wasn't an especially heartwarming laugh. 
"Same like we got you," she told him and spit into the pit.
     He dodged, brushing against a black dirt wall and causing a fat
wriggling orange worm to come falling free.  "Are you going to keep me
down here?"
     "Nah.  Smarthate'll be coming to get you in a micron once I signal
him."
     "Smarthate?  He doesn't sound like a nice person."
     "Don't worry, you'll like him.  You're going to have lots of fun
with him," she promised.  "Just like Alpha is."
     Starbuck clenched his fists and kept himself from saying something
strong and angry to her.  "I can't wait until..."
     "Wait until what, whorespawn."
     "Until I meet Smarthate."
     Starbuck had been distracted by a silent figure that was sneaking up
behind the unsuspecting gun maiden.  A figure that was extending an odd
metal arm toward her from behind.

********************

Chapter Ten: Deep Into Hostile Territory

     The tall woman, despite Starbuck's best efforts to distract her,
finally sensed she was being stalked.  She started to turn around, guns
swinging up.
     But the metal arm gave off a sudden harsh humming and a thin beam of
purplish light shot out of the pointing forefinger.  
     "Damn you, Thor!' She said only that before she stiffened, tottered
backwards and dropped down into Starbuck's pit.
     He caught her, sort of.
     When he got up from the broken branches and dirt, the tough gal was
stretched out on the ground and both her guns were his.
     "Don't be frettin' none," said the snady-haired young man standing
at the rim of the pit.  "Gamma's nothin' but stunned."
     "I noticed," said Starbuck, eying the fellow and his coppery right
arm.  "By the way, are you friend or foe?"
     "Friend, natch."
     "That's good, because I'd hate to have to use these guns of hers."
     "Hades Hole, I realize you got no way of knowin if I'm trustworthy
or not.  But I am."  From inside his loose fitting crimson jacket he
produced a coil of rope.  "Name's Thor.  You?"
     "Starbuck."  He caught the end of the rope that Thor lowered to him. 
"Are you sure you can tug me outta here?"
     "I'm a lot stronger than I look, Starbuck.  And that's no load of
felgercarb."
     It was true.  Starbuck was soon up on the forest floor.  "Much
obliged," he said.
     "Listen now," said Thor as he reeled in his rope.  "I ain't exactly
bein' just altruistic in this here business.  Not that me and Smarthate's
bunch ain't natural born enemies and all.  Thing is, see, I couldn't help
overhearin' your conversation with Gamma."
     "Thank the Lords you did."
     Scratching at his long nose with a metal forefinger, Thor said,
"They got Alpha and you're aimin' to save her.  Ain't that about the
situation?"
     Starbuck glanced up at the fog-shrouded treetops.  "That just about
sums it up," he replied.
     "Wellsir now, Princess Alpha's sort of a special friend of mine," he
explained.  "I like her, she likes me.  Even though everybody else in her
enclave don't much cotton to me. I'm a loner, don't like livin' too close
to anybody.  And there's my arm, too."
     "Looks like an impressive piece of hi-tech to me."
     Grinning, Thor rubbed at the metal arm with the fingers of his
natural hand.  "Built the whole dang thing myself, designed it too.  It
can do all sorts of interestin' stuff," he said proudly.  "Made it outta
scraps of this metal and that metal.  I scrounged parts from all over the
planetoid.  You'd be surprised at all that was left behind when them
Merchant Acumen folks pulled up the stakes long time back."
     "Yeah, I've seen some of what they left," said Starbuck.  "How'd you
come to lose your real arm?"
     Thor shook his head.  "Never had but one," he answered.  "Born this
way.  You could call me a mutant, or like most do, a freak."
     Starbuck asked him, "Any idea where they're holding Alpha?"
     "A pretty darn good one, yep.  Would you care to join forces with me
and rescue her?"
     "Sounds like a good idea."
     "Partners, then."  Thor held out his metal hand.
     Starbuck shook it.  "Partners."

********************

     The fat one had a sharp pointed longshiv.  He sat in the sagging
sling chair, watching Alpha.  He was an immense young man in a suit of
ill-fitting work clothes.  The buttons and other fastenings strained
against his enormous girth.  "I like you," he repeated, rubbing at the
shiv's point with a fat thumb.  "Truly I do, Alpha."
     The young woman sat on the floor of this single-room shack, hands
tied behind her.  She said nothing.
     "I had to poke you some when we caught you," continued the fat young
man, his body jiggling.  "But I'm sure I didn't hurt you all that badly."
     She looked away from him, at the small cracked window in the wall. 
The mist pressed against it, seeping through the zigzag crack.  The odor
of the stagnant pond came in, too.
     "You have to understand," continued the fat young man, "that you and
I ain't on the same side.  This is our territory, so when you try to
cross it, we naturally have to stop you.  We have to hurt you, too, make
an example of you.  Otherwise, your people would think they can just---"
     "Muzzle it, Coingibber," said the other occupant of the shack.  He
was not tall, only about five metrons by four.  He had kinky auburn hair,
dark eyes and a very obvious diamond-shaped birthmark. He was watching at
the rooms other window.
     "Pleasant conversation relieves the bordom, Smarthate.  Makes the
centons pass much---"
     "I though I'd told you to muzzle it!"
     Coingibber nodded, chins wobbling.  "If you want my opinion, you're
worrying needlessly.  Gamma will certainly---"
     "Not another word!" Smarthate gestured impatiently with his laser
pistol.
     When Coingibber gave a resigned shrug, his oversized body quivered
in unison with his shoulders.
     Smarthate glanced at Alpha. "Tell me some more about this guy who's
following you."
     She said, "I know nothing useful to add, sir.  I'm not even sure he
is following me."
     Smarthate checked the window again.  "Gamma's taking too frakkin'
long.  She's got to have spotted the guy by now."
     "We don't know how far behind he is," reminded Coingibber.
     "My orders were to watch a while and then come back and report if
nobody showed."
     "Orders and Gamma don't mix."
     "Stop jawin'!" suggested Smarthate.
     The fat young man returned his attention to Alpha.  "As I was
saying, you and I could be friends," he said.  "All you have to do is
abandon that bunch you reside with and---"
     "Settle down!" said Smarthate.
     "I was only---"
     "I think I hear something." The kinky-haired Smarthate was close to
the window, listening and watching.  "Something, or somebody, is coming
this way."
     "It's probably just Gamma."
     "No. It's somebody heavier, noisier."
     "She's no lightfoot."
     Smarthate said, "I can...Frack!"
     "What?"  Curious, the immense Coingibber started to grunt up out of
his chair.
     "I saw somebody," said Smarthate, eyes narrowed, watching the misty
woodlands outside the shack.  "Coming through the swamp.  Looked
like...Hades...some sort of droid."
     "Couldn't be.  None of those old mechs work that well anymore."
     "It was big, one of those farmhand droids, you know, the ones with
the scythes for right hands."
     "Why would a thing like that, granted there's even one in working
order on the whole damn planetoid, be coming to call on us?"
     Smarthate nodded at the fat young man.  "Go find out.  It's out
there in the swamp, in the trees about there, four hundred maxims off."
     "You gotta be seeing things.  It's been known to happen in mist like
this."
     "Go find out what it's doing there," ordered Smarthate.  "Take the
laser rifle."
     Sighing loudly, Coingibber put his longshiv away in its scabbard. 
"Let's just wait until it does something."
     "I don't want to wait.  Get moving!"
     The shack's wooden floor creaked as Coingibber lumbered over to take
up the rifle that was leaning against the wall.  "Hope it ain't your
imagination."
     "Go see if it is."  He reached out, opened the door.  Mist started
flowing in.
     Sighing again, the fat young man ventured out into the fog.

********************

     Smarthate hunched his shoulders, shook his head from side to side. 
"What in Hades is going on?"
     Moving away from the window, he crossed over to Alpha.
     "I asked you a question," he said.  "What's happening out there? 
Why hasn't Coingibber come back?"
     "How should I bloody well know?"
     He squatted, scowling at her.  "First Gamma, now Coingibber," he
said.  "Are some of your people out there?"
     "No," said Alpha.  "You know damn well I'm hectares from my home
territory."
     "If you're here, then they could be too."
     "I'm here because the ship I was flying malfunctioned," she said. 
"You already made me tell you about that."
     Smarthate took hold of her jaw in his hand.  "Who is it, then?  This
guy that's trailing you?"
     "I don't know!"
     Holding her head immobile, he slapped her with the other hand. 
Three times, hard.  "What's going on out there?  Tell me!"
     "I don't know!"
     "I don't want to puncture you any more," Smarthate told her in a
low, calm voice.  "But I will if you don't---"
     He was interrupted by a rapping at the door.
     Jerking to his feet, Smarthate spun to face the door.
     The rapping was repeated, louder and firmer this time.
     Smarthate drew his laser gun.  "Who's there?"
     Whoever it was didn't respond.  The rapping sounded again.
     "That you, Coingibber?"
     More rapping.
     "Gamma?"
     Rap! Rap! Rap!
     "All right, you stinkin' daggit!"
     Smarthate fired straight at the door, his gun crackling and humming. 
The top half of the wooden door vanished.  Nothing showed in the gap
except for the misty swampland outside.
     Smarthate took three cautious steps closer to the doorway.
     A big metal-bodied droid rolled into view from beside the door. 
"G'day," he said, waving his scythe hand in greeting.
     "What do you want?  There's no crops around here you can harvest."
     "G'day."
     "Get your astrum away from here or---"
     A door-sized hunk of the rear wall suddenly disintegrated.  "Nothing
like a droid to create a diversion," said Thor, stepping through the
hole.
     "So you're the freak who---""
     Thor stunned him at that point, using the beam built into his
forefinger.
     Smarthate dropped to the floor like a bag of stones.
     Starbuck entered by way of the front door.  "I knew we'd meet
again," he said to Alpha as he hurried over to her.  Kneeling, he cut her
bonds.
     As best she could with numbed arms, she hugged him.  "Thanks," she
said.  "I'm sorry I beaned you."
     Thor nodded to himself.  "Ain't that the way it always goes," he
observed.  "I do most of the rough work and somebody else gets the
gratitude."

********************

Chapter Eleven: Kraspo Returns

     "This must have been quite a setup way back when," said Captain
Apollo.
     "Business seems to have taken a swan dive lately," commented Boomer.
     They were crossing vast, overgrown fields, heading toward four
decaying structures.
     "Any idea how long this has been deserted?" said Apollo.
     "Obviously a good long while," said the lieutenant.  "Being
connected with Starbuck takes you to some pretty interesting places."
     "And meet some interesting women."
     "Come to think of it, I'm slightly impatient to see this current
lady he's tangled up with.  What was her name, Alpha?"
     "According to the all-knowing C.O.R.A, yes."
     They slowed their pace as they neared the Merchant Acumen buildings.
     "Alpha," repeated Boomer.  "She sounds like one tough lady."
     "She'd have to be to get the best of Starbuck.  He usually...hey,
there's somebody in front of that warehouse."  Apollo drew his laser
pistol.
     "Only a droid," said Boomer.  "Doesn't seem to be running."
     "Let's approach with caution, all the same."
     The overalled mechanical man was slumped in his chair.  "G'day..."
He croaked when they were a few maxims from him.
     "It's just barely working," Boomer said.
     Apollo was at the entrance to the empty warehouse.  "Somebody's been
here." He entered.
     The black lieutenant followed.  "Over there," he said pointing. 
"Some kind of struggle. And look at all those footprints in the dust. 
Whatever happened here, it sure wasn't a friendly encounter."
     Crouching, Apollo touched at a dark spot on the wood flooring.  "Oh
Lords!  Blood!" he said.
     "Not much of it around, though."
     "Meaning somebody was hurt but not killed."
     "If Starbuck was here, he's moved on.  So---
     "All right, whoever's in there, throw down your weapons and come out
quick!" boomed a voice from outside.

********************

     "Aw, it wasn't so hard," Thor was explaining as they made their way
through the misty swampland.  "Just a matter of rigging one of them old
farm droids to do a few simple chores."
     "Thor's a wizard with gadgets," added Starbuck.  He was at the head
of the line, with Princess Alpha just behind him.  "He got that
mechanical fieldhand to walk and talk just great."
     "Then we used him to decoy Coingibber out of that there shack," said
Thor.  "After we had the fat boy safely stunned, then we went up and sent
the droid to knock on the shack door.  While poor old Smarthate was
givin' all his attention to that, I snuck 'round back.  After peeking
through the window to make sure where you was, I just up and dropped in,
usin' this finger here to cut me an entry."
     Alpha smiled back at him over her shoulder.  "I appreciate what you
did," she said.  "You too, Starbuck."
     The lieutenant added fumarello smoke to the swirling mist.  "I
happen to be what is called chivalrous," he told her.  "That means I am
obliged to help a damsel in distress."
     "But of course," reminded the beach sand-blonde haired young woman. 
"I wouldn't have been in most of this trouble if that nitwit computer  of
yours hadn't futzed the Viper and forced me to land such a damn long way
from my home territory."
     "My computer was just doing her duty," Starbuck said.  "You, dear
sweet Alpha, had hijacked my ship...which in some of the more civilized
corners of the universe might be construed as piracy...What's more, you
knocked me on the head and left me for dead."
     "I only borrowed your scatterbrained ship because mine was flooey,"
she said.  "You sure weren't anywhere near dead when I---"
     "It might be," cut in Thor, "a good idea if you explained why you
was so anxious to get away from that there asteroid, Alpha."
     "That's obvious," she said impatiently.  "Kraspo was on my tail."
     "I met him," said Starbuck.  "He's a Trooper, the law.  That makes
you, princess, the local outlaw."
     "Ain't exactly that cut and dried," said Thor.  "Them troopers say
they're the law, but...well, they run the prison colony on Destructon. 
And that ain't the most honest and upstanding place this side of Gemon."
     "Put simply, it's a turbo-flush," commented Alpha.
     "She grew up there," said Thor, "but was lucky enough to break out
and get over here."
     "That was when I was seventeen," she said. "For the past yahren or
so I've lived with a group of other escapees, south of here.  We farm, we
raise cattle."
     "Where does the ambrosa come in?"
     "There's a lot of that on Destructon," she replied.  "And there are
ways of picking up a cargo now and then.  Risky, but bloody well worth
the effort.  This time, though, Kraspo nearly caught me."
     "He nearly caught me too," said Starbuck.  "In fact, I borrowed his
fighter to come here."
     Alpha laughed.  "Welcome to the Royal Order of Outlaws."
     "Apparently, that's more honorable than being a Trooper in these
parts." He puffed on his fumarello.
     Thor said, "We want to go off on the trail that branches off this
one just ahead.  From what you told me, Starbuck, it's a shortcut to
where the fighter and your ship are."
     "Don't bother flying me back to my group," the girl said to
Starbuck.  "I can manage it on foot."
     "Uh-uh," he told her.  "Starbuck's law:  when you go out on a date
with a lady, always see her safely home."

********************

     Boomer had his eye to a crack in the warehouse wall.  "There's just
one man out there," he said quietly.  "The laser gun he's toting looks
ancient, but effective."
     "I'll give myself up to him," said Apollo.  "Give me a little time,
then distract him."  Boomer nodded.
     Apollo walked out the doorway, tossing out his pistol.  "Okay," he
called.  "I'm coming out."
     The man with the gun was some two hundred maxims away. 
Stern-looking and thickset, he wore dirty white clothes.  There was a
starburst emblem on his jacket.
     "Him too," he told Apollo.
     The captain feigned surprised, kept moving toward him.  "Who's
'him?'"
     "The dark-skinned one who went into that warehouse with you."
     Smiling, Apollo said, "I don't like to argue with a fellow who packs
a gun, but I went in there alone."
     "If he doesn't come out in another micron, you're a dead man!"
     Apollo was only a few feet away from the thickset lawman now.  "Who
exactly are you?" he asked him.
     "I'm a Colonial trooper," he answered.
     "Then we're on the same side of the law."  Apollo started lowering
his hands.
     "Keep 'em up!"
     "Sure, okay.  But the point is, we're probably looking for the same
man," continued Apollo.  "He's a middle-sized young fellow, with
straw-colored hair.  He smokes fumarellos and dotes on stealing other
people's means of transportation."
     The lawman studied Apollo's face.  "Yes, that sounds like my man,
all right," he said.  "But then, I never did lay my eyes on the little
bastard when I met him."
     "Thank the Lords you didn't." Apollo edged nearer.  "He's a
despicable felon, infamous for his---"
     "What in Hades?"
     Over by the warehouse, the lounging droid suddenly stood up, waving
his arms to and fro like a windmill gone mad.
     The stern-faced Trooper's attention was drawn to that.
     Apollo lunged and caught the trooper's arm.  He twisted the gun from
his grasp.  Then Apollo jabbed him twice in his midsection and once in
the jaws.  When the man hit the ground, he was unconscious.
     "Starbuck's corrupted me," remarked Apollo.  "Now I'm assaulting
peace officers."

********************

     Thor said, "We might as well be on the safe side, folks."
     They'd halted by a small forest pond.
     "We're getting mighty close to your ships," the young man said,
pointing toward the trees with his metal hand.  "Won't take me not time
at all to make sure there ain't no more of Smarthate's people, or anyone
else lurkin' round hereabouts.  And goin' alone I can move as quiet and
silent as the breeze."
     Snuffing out his fumarello on the mossy ground, Starbuck seated
himself on a hollow log.  "Good idea, Thor," he said.  "You go on and get
the lay of the land.  We'll wait here."
     Grinning, Thor moved away into the shadows between the high trees.
     "Scared, Starbuck?" inquired Alpha, leaning against the bole of a
broad tree.
     "Cautious, lover, merely cautious," he said.  "Since I first paid a
visit to your fair galaxy, I've been hit on the head, highjacked,
abandoned and dropped into a pit.  Experiences have a tendency to make
one wary."
     The young woman nodded, smiled a crooked smile.  "No doubt."
     After a moment, the lieutenant said, "What's your name?"
     "You know that already.  Princess Alpha."
     "No, I mean---your real name.  Why did Kraspo call you Burglar?"
     She answered, "Because...well officially that's my name, Burglar
112, but I  decided not to be known by that designation any longer.  I
decided to rename myself and I chose Alpha, after this quadrant.  I only
gave myself the title of princess strictly out of ego, not heritage."
     "Felgercarb," Starbuck snorted.  "I know you had another name before
you got sent there."
     "Not sent there; born there."
     "Huh?" he stood up.
     Alpha shook her head.  "Please, love, don't make me talk about it."
     "You've lived all your life on this Destructon?" Starbuck came
forward, puckering his brow.
     "There's no reason why you need to hear about my past," she told
him.  "Fate brought us together and fate will separate us again.  That''s
the way life is, not anything to get serious about."
     "For one so young you're awfully cynical," he observed.
     "I'm not young anymore," she said, glancing in the direction Thor
had gone.  "What about you, Starbuck.  Who are you?"
     "I...can't answer that."  He poked his boot toe into the mossy
ground.
     "You like to ask questions but not answer them, eh what?"
     "Actually...I'm a warrior."
     "Blimey!  A warrior from the Great Colonies?"
     "Yep." He pointed upward.  "I'm stationed on an enormous spaceship
called a battlestar," he answered.  "Right now I'm supposed to be
exploring your quaint galaxy here.  At risk of sounding full of myself,
Alpha, I've got to tell you that I'm usually damn good at my job.  Flying
a viper, exploring,fighting.  I do all that extremely well."  He
shrugged.  "But, to be perfectly honest, ever since I met you on that
halfwit asteroid, I've been fouling up."
     She smiled.  "I can see you're going to use me as an excuse when you
get back to your battlestar," she said.  "I met this vicious woman
outlay, sir, and she led me astray."
     "I've been leading myself astray," Starbuck said.  "When I heard you
might be in trouble, I had to come and save you."
     "Must be my good  looks."
     He eyed her.  "Could be," he said.  "If you put it all in
perspective---"
     "We got ourselves a peck of trouble folks," said Thor as he silently
returned to them.
     "What's wrong?" asked the lieutenant.
     Thor rubbed at his metal arm.  "That clearing yonder's sort of more
crowded than you said it was."
     "How so?"
     "Firstly, there's two more ships like yous.  They---"
     "---must be from the Galactica," Starbuck finished for him,
brightening.  "Could be Apollo, Boomer, Jolly or maybe even Greenbean."
     "Anybody else?" asked Alpha.
     "Another squad craft," answered Thor.
     Frowning, Starbuck said, "where are the people who go with all this
aircraft?"
     Thor shook his head.  "Didn't see hide nor hair of 'em," he said. 
"Didn't even go up close to none of them ships, mind you, but it sure
looks like there wasn't anybody around."
     "Seems likely that Apollo and Boomer are off looking for me,"
reflected Starbuck.  "And the occupants of the trooper ship are, too."
     "I would say that Kraspo's put out an all points bulletin---for me,"
said Alpha.
     "Okay," said Starbuck.  "You two wait for me here.  I'm going to the
clearing and see if I can talk to C.O.R.A.  She's my onboard computer. 
She ought to know where my buddies are.  I'll get together with them and
then swing back here for you."
     "Ain't worth the risk, sonny," said Thor.
     "Thanks for the vote of confidence."  He grinned.  "On the other
hand, this makes a great opportuntity for me to prove my courage to the
both of you."

********************

     Crouched amidst brush, Starbuck scanned the clearing.  
     Sure enough, there was an additional fighter and two more vipers.
     "Looks like Apollo and Boomer came hunting for me when I got myself
bushwhacked," he said to himself.
     As far as Starbuck was able to tell, there was nobody in the area
with the ships now.
     He remained where he was, watching and listening.  Soon he'd
approach his own viper.  It stood to reason Apollo or Boomer had talked
to his computer.  C.O.R.A. just might know where they are.
     The barrel of a laser pistol poked against his spine.  "Nice to see
you again," said Kraspo.

********************

Chapter Twelve: Destructon Prison

     Boomer narrowed his eyes.  "I don't like the look of this next
stretch of country," he said as they approached misty woodlands.
     "We're not tourists here, good buddy," said Apollo.  "Starbuck came
this way."
     "At least we know he's still on his own two feet."
     "The footprints suggest that, yep.  He's following somebody who's
carrying something fairly heavy," said the captain as they moved along
the trail.
     "The body of Starbuck's ladyfriend?"
     "Possibly."
     "You don't have to worry about that, gents.  He's alive and well." 
A lanky young man with a metal arm appeared out of the mist a few maxims
directly ahead of them.
     "Don't believe I know you, friend." Apollo's hand hovered over his
holster.
     "Name's Thor," he answered.  "Suppose you tell me your names.  I got
my own reasons for asking, see."
     "I'm Apollo and this is Boomer."
     "Good.  I was hoping you'd say that," Thor grinned.  "You're friends
of Starbuck?"
     "Yes, but how did you know that?"
     "Alpha," Thor called.  "It's okay, c'mon over."
     A slim beach sand-blonde haired woman joined them.
     "I hear you're the one who started all this mess," Boomer said.
     "Starbuck brought most of it upon himself," said Alpha.  "But we
don't the luxury of squabbling right now.  Kraspo's got the poor bloke."
     "Who's Kraspo?" said Apollo.
     "Here's the situation," said Thor.  "We was goin' back to where your
ships are, on account of Starbuck was aimin' to give Alpha a lift home. 
Except there was more ships than anticipated and he decided to go in
alone, check out the situation with C.O.R.A.  His computer, or whatever."
     Boomer said, "So what happened?"
     "Wellsir, we waited a spell for him," said Thor, "and he never came
back.  So I took me another look."
     Alpha said, "Thor got there just in time to see Kraspo hustle
Starbuck into his fighter ship and take off."
     "Had I got there just a mite sooner," said Thor sadly, "I could've
stunned Kraspo, kept him from carting Starbuck off like that."  He tapped
the metal finger he used for stunning.
     "Where is this man Kraspo likely to take him?" Apollo asked.
     "To Destructon," said Alpha.  "That's where the prison is."

********************
 
     Don't you think," Starbuck had suggested as the fighter lifted off,
"that you ought to wait for your backup?"
     "What backup?" asked Kraspo.
     "The fellows in the other fighter.  You did call for backup, didn't
you?"
     "Fedor can take care of himself," the thickset trooper said as he
worked the controls of the ship.  "He'll run Alpha to the ground and haul
her in."
     "Do you mind if I go back and wait?" said the lieutenant amiably.
     "Just shut up."
     The ship went climbing away from the surface of the asteroid.
     Starbuck inquired, "Can't I at least have a smoke?"
     "Only if you can do it with your hands manacled behind you like
that," said Kraspo.
     "I was kinda hoping you'd unshackle me."
     "Absolutely not!"
     Starbuck shifted into a slightly less uncomfortable position in the
seat he'd been dumped into.  "Why do you want Alpha?"
     "Same reason we want you," answered Kraspo.  "Smuggling.  In your
case, of course, there's also assault, theft and a whole nice stewpot of
other charges."
     "Sounds like a good time for me to explain who I really am."
     "I know who you are, laddie."
     "Nope.  You only think you do.  See, I come from a spacecraft
that's---"
     "I don't want to hear it!" bellowed Kraspo.
     "But if I explain the situation to you now, you can just realease
me.  That way, there's no need of a tribunal or opposer, or even a---"
Starbuck felll silent as Kraspo began to laugh.
     "A tribunal!" Kraspo said.  "The beggar thinks he's gonna get a
tribunal!"
     "You mean nobody gets a chance to state a defense around here? 
Starbuck protested. "I thought this was Colonial territory!"
     "There's Colonial law and then there's our law--- and that's all
that's good here, you damn bootlegger!" Kraspo snarled. "Don't say one
more word."

********************

     As the ship came through the atmosphere, Starbuck could see the
lights of what looked like a very old space port.  Several rows of
warehouses and storage facilities lined a dilapidated docking and landing
area.  Beyond, he could make out squarish structures that indicated a
small residential community, while behind that, towering above the entire
community was a large structure that Starbuck immediately recognized as
the prison facility.
     "Welcome to Destructon," said Kraspo as the fighter set down.
     "Not the jolliest spot I've ever seen," said Starbuck.
     In an instant, he realized what purpose Destructon Prison must have
served long ago when it had been an active part of the Colonial Frontier. 
The inmates performed labor in this distant outpost so far from the
Colonies, and the results of their labor would be transported to the
warehouses and docks for loading onto Colonial freighters serving all
Colonial outposts throughout the Frontier.
     Kraspo chuckled.  "You're now part of the colony, so deal with it or
it'll deal with you," he advised him, unbuckling from his seat.
     "Look, you really better take me to whoever's running this whole
show.  Because otherwise---"
     "Starbuck," said the trooper evenly, "you'll get along a lot better
here on Destructon if you quit bitching."
     "Believe it or not, my friends are going to come looking for me. 
All I'm trying to do is save you trouble."
     "Can you get your astrum out of that seat and walk on out of this
ship?" Kraspo opened the cabin door.
     "Sure."
     "Do it!"
     Starbuck obliged, following the lawman out of the fighter.
     Waiting outside was another trooper, holding a laser rifle.  "He the
bloke, Kraspo?"
     Starbuck noticed the other trooper's  accent was similar to Alpha's,
using the term 'bloke' for person.
     "Yeah, he's the wise astrum who stole my ship."
     "I see you got it back."
     "I always get back what's mine."
     Starbuck, hands chained behind his back, was looking around.  The
cases were stacked up everwhere.  "Those crates look awfully familiar,"
he remarked.
     "Like the ones you were smuggling, pal," said Kraspo.
     "All of these have ambrosa in them?" Starbuck was impressed.  "How
much is all that worth?"
     "Not a damn thing to you!" shouted Kraspo. "Now get moving! There's
a nice cell in that gray building over yonder with your name on it!"

********************

Chapter Thirteen: The Sinners

     They had marched Starbuck through the warehouse complex, past the
small dwellings and into the massive doorway that was the entrance to the
prison complex.
     "Look-" Starbuck started, and then his universe went black again as
he felt the butt of the pistol come down on his head.
     When he came to again, he found himself inside a dim, torch-lit
cell.  
     "Ohhhh," he moaned as he rubbed his head, "Twice in one day, it's
just not fair!" 
     He drew himself to a sitting position and found himself staring at
his cell. Two of the walls were of gray stone. The third was lined with a
maze of strange drawings as though whoever had once occupied it before
had been something of an artist.  What stood out most was something that
resembled a group of planets orbiting a yellow sun. Below the drawing
were the words Hapgood was here! 
     The fourth wall was steel bars and door.
     The furnishings were a lumpy cot and basic toilet facilities. 
Across the dimly lit corridor Starbuck could see three similar cells. 
Each was occupied.  
     Before he had a chance to study the weird drawings further, he heard
a booming voice from somewhere behind.
     "What's your name, guv'nuh!"
     Starbuck turned around and made his way to the bars of his cell. 
     Directly opposite him was a tall, powerfully built man with a
incredibly full beard. He was holding a bottle of ambrosa in one hand,
and as Starbuck's eyes wandered down the rest of the cells he could tell
that the motley crew of prisoners were all holding ambrosia bottles.
     Again, Starbuck noticed how the accent was just like Alpha's,
Aquarian with a smattering of curious colloquialisms.
     "Hi," Starbuck slowly waved his arm in acknowledgment, "Name's
Starbuck."
     The bearded man frowned in contemplation.  "Starbuck?  That's bloody
strange.  Never heard of that one before.  Ah well, let's have a toast
then to our new mate, Starbuck!"
     "Starbuck!" all the prisoners raised their bottles and said in
unison before taking a nip.  There was an almost open atmosphere of
solidarity among them, as though they were seemingly content with their
lot.
     Starbuck noticed that there was a bottle of ambrosia on the small
table next to his bed and he picked it up.  "They give you ambrosa?"
     "Oh yes," the man looked at his bottle, "But never the good stuff."
     "The good stuff..." Starbuck's eyes widened in surprise and then he
blinked as widening them only made his head hurt more.  
     "Take a belt, guv'nuh!" urged a strikingly dark-haired beautiful
woman in something that resembled a tattered socialator's costume who
occupied a cell across from him.  If he hadn't been feeling so
lightheaded from being hit twice on the head, and gnashing his teeth over
all that had happened to him, he would have taken the time to start a
conversation with her and lay on the patented Starbuck charm.
     He noticed the full bottle of ambrosa sitting on the stone floor
beside his cot.  "Sorry, not exactly in the mood for it."
     "I'd say this one's too good to drink with us," said the dark-haired
woman.
     "Oh, not at all, folks."  He picked up the bottle and pretended to
take a long swig.
     Nodding approvingly, the bearded man said, "Weclome to Destructon
prison.  I'm Assault 9, the lovely bird next door to you is Adulteress
14, and the shifty-eyed old blighter across from you is Forger 6.  And of
course all our children too.  About ten of us altogether and our
respective families.  That's just in this one block of course."
     Starbuck blinked again, as he realized for the first time that each
cell contained several children in addition to the adults.  This was
apparently what Alpha meant when she said she'd been born in here.  It
was far more than a simple prison, if children could be caged in here as
well.
     "So tell me, handsome," the woman called Adulteress spoke for the
first time.  Her voice was thick and slurry, clearly the result of many
bottles of ambrosa.  "What kind of offense is...Star-bucking?  It sounds
interesting."
     Starbuck frowned at her, not understanding her question. 
"It's...not an offense, it's just a name, my name," he said, somewhat
annoyed.  "See, folks, I'm not a criminal at all." 
     "They're one and the same, guv'nuh!" the small man called Forger
spoke up.  He was wearing an ancient pair of spectacles, which meant that
the colonies in this planetoids were further out of date than he'd first
thought. Occular cultures and implants had rendered eyeglasses and
spectacles obsolete in the Colonies more than five hundred yahrens
earlier.  "Your offense is your name for life!  It's the law, you know!"
     "Huh?" Starbuck's perplexed expression only increased.  "What are
you talking about?"
     Adulteress let out a chilling drunken  cackle, "I wonder if our
original sinners were just as daft and na‹ve as this ruddy bloke."
     "Original sinners?" said Starbuck. wondered if he'd wandered into a
nuthouse.
     "Tis our ancestors she refers to!" Assault boomed out in a cheery
tone.  "The ones who were first sentenced here."
     Things began to add up for Starbuck.  No wonder Alpha didn't want to
talk about this place.  "You mean to tell me all you folks are doing time
for crimes your ancestors committed?"
     "That's better than being an original sinner, like you," Forger shot
back in an almost patronizing tone.  "All we have to do is just outwardly
imitate what they did.  But you...you committed an actual offense!"
     "Yes, and it sounds soooo interesting!" Adulteress let out another
slurry chuckle, "Come on.  Tell us what Star-bucking is?"
     The blonde warrior looked at her with total incredulity.  The whole
situation struck him as completely insane.
     "I told you, it's not an offense.  It's the name is was born with!"
     "Aha!" Assault's eyes lit up, "I think he means the name he went by
before he committed his offense!  He's not used to the one he's going to
be known by from here on in."
     "I don't plan on getting used to any other name," Starbuck focused
his attention on Assault, who seemed to be more levelheaded than Forger,
Adulteress or any of the other adults.  "I'm just a...privateer from
another quadrant in the galaxy."
     "Are you now, my lad?" Assault crowded closer to the bars, his arms
stretching through them.  "You've been in the Home Quadrant then?  Pray
tell, have you any news of the war?"
     Starbuck eyed him cautiously, "War?"
     "Of course man! Between the Colonies and the Alliance!" Forger held
up his bottle with ultra-nationalistic fervor. "We supply ambrosia for
all the brave Colonial Warriors!"
     "You what?" The pieces of a fantastic puzzle began to fall into
place for the Galactica warrior.  Now he knew where Alpha had come by all
that ambrosa.
     "We may be prisoners, but we're as pat-riotic as any Col-o-nist,"
Adulteress said with a proud, haughty air.
     "The function of Destructon was originally to provide munitions and
ambrosa for the war effort," Assault said, "When the munitions ran out,
we just kept on making the only thing we could; ambrosa.  And we've been
making it for seven-hundred yahrens."
     "And we'll keep doing it for another seven-hundred!  Until they hang
the Imperious Leader by his hideous neck until dead!" Adulteress proudly
raised her bottle, "Death to the Cylons!"
     "Death to the Cylons!" the adult prisoners all said in unison.
     Starbuck shook his head in bewilderment as he decided he needed a
break from all this insanity he'd heard.  He went back to the other side
of his cell, where the strange paintings and drawings continued to
intrigue him.

********************

     Apollo paced the clearing.  "What I'm suggesting to you is the
simplest way of doing things," he said.
     "Go to Hades," said the trooper.
     His name was Fedor and he was the man Apollo had knocked out at the
abandoned warehouse.  Boomer and Thor had brought him back to the ships.
     Apollo halted in front of him.  "Look, friend, we're both more or
less on the same side," he said, the impatience creeping slowly into his
voice.
     "You can escort us to Kraspo on Destructon and we can arrange---"
     "You can say any damn thing," the trooper told them, "but you still
might be Cylon spies.  And I'll tell you something.  This buddy of yours,
this Starbuck chap, he tried to kill Kraspo---and stole his fighter.  You
two bastards worked me over.  Hades Hole, that's not my idea of being on
the same side."
     "Those were just misunderstandings," said Boomer.
     "To Hades with all of you."
     Alpha said, "Kraspo left you behind to find me and bring me in,
didn't he?"
     "Yes, and eventually I will."
     Nodding, the light-haired woman turned to Apollo.  "You can fly that
fighter of his, can't you?"
     "Sure."
     "Okay, then let's quit wasting time with this idiot," she said. 
"You'll fly it to Destructon with me as your passenger.  If you wear
Fedor's outfit, we can land safely at the prison and get inside before
they know what's up."
     "Kraspo won't be easily taken in by a stunt like that," said Fedor
scornfully.
     "It might work," said Apollo thoughtfully.
     "Sure," said Thor, "and Boomer and me can land nearby.  You take out
the guards, we'll coming scooting in.  Heck, the four of us can take over
the whole shebang.  Easy as pie."
     "They'll wipe you out," predicted the trooper.
     "We'll take that chance," said Apollo.

********************

     Cassiopeia wondered why she'd received a telecom from Athena in the
middle of the night asking her to come to the Bridge.  She knew that she
and her rival had a productive talk aboard the Rising Star and parted on
good terms, but she never would have expected something like this.
     "Athena?" she asked as she came over to her station.  "You wanted to
see me?"
     Athena rose and indicated that she wanted to say something
confidentially to her.  As soon as they were behind one of the support
pillars, she took a breath and spoke.
     "Starbuck is on a long-range patrol. We've been receiving
intermittent codes in a long-range transmission that we can't deciper. 
Because this violates the standing orders he was given, we can only
assume that he's no longer in command of his viper and that..." She
swallowed uneasily.  "...that he might in fact be dead."
     The news hit Cassiopeia like a bolt of lightning.  She closed her
eyes briefly and tried to show no other outward signs of emotion.
     Athena cleared her throat, trying not to choke up.  "We've sent out
a patrol to destroy his ship.  But...even if he's still alive, the
chances are not good that we can find him.  Anyway," she shook her head,
"I just thought you should know.  Especially...well, especially after we
had that little talk this evening."
     Without waiting for Cassiopeia to say anything, Athena straightened
herself and went back to her station.  Cassiopeia took a half-centon to
collect her wits before she followed her.
     Aren't I lucky? Cassiopeia thought.  I get over losing Cain, and
then I fall in love with another warrior who also disappears.
     "Athena," Cassiopeia said as she came up behind her chair. 
"Thanks."
     She nodded and went back to her monitoring of the Recon Viper One
transmissions.

********************

Chapter Fourteen: How to escape from Destructon

     Far away, three Cylon fighters emerged from the asteroid dust cloud
that the immigrant Fleet had long since passed through.  Because the
Cylon fighters had been expressly ordered to track the source of the
mysterious coded signal that Baltar's baseship had picked up, it never
occurred to the lead pilot of any of the three fighters to check for
readings of tylium fuel residues, which would have provided clear
indications that the fugitive fleet had recently been in this area.
     Instead, the Cylon scanners remained locked onto the trajectory
where the signal had first originated.  A trajectory that the lead pilot
calculated would take them to a binary star system containing one large
asteroid and a series of lesser ones in less than three centars.

********************

     Commander Adama sat in a comfortable chair in his quarters, a pile
of reports on his lap.  He leaned back in the chair, his eyes nearly
shut.
     "Colonel Tigh and Cassiopeia  request permission to enter," said a
talkbox overhead.
     "Granted."  Sitting up straight, Adama moved the stack of papers to
a nearby tabletop.
     The black colonel looked worried as he came into the room. 
"Commander, Cassiopeia thinks she knows what kind of  signal Recon Viper
One was sending."
     "Oh?"
     "When Athena cross-checked the code on the computer, I recognized
some of the encryption symbols," Cassiopeia began.  "It's an Aquarian
merchant code."
     "What?" Adama bolted forward in the chair.
     "My father was a merchant, and I used to transmit messages for him,"
Cassoipeia's words came out rapidly as the urgency of the situation
became clear to her."  "It was an Aquarian merchant code.  I'm sure of
it."
     "We're fools for not considering the possibility, sir," Tigh said. 
"If old settlements that were part of the Colonial Frontier still existed
after all these centurons, they would still know how to use those."
     "Have you found out what the message means?" Adama said.
     "Yes, I'm afraid we we have," Tigh replied.  "It's a request for the
coordinates back to Aquarius.  Apparently the pilot is a woman who
doesn't realize that Aquarius is in Cylons hands now.  She must have
stolen Starbuck's ship as a way of getting back to the home civilization
they've lost contact with.  Fortunately for her, destroying the ship is
no longer deemed necessary."
     "I see," said Adama.  He looked toward Cassiopeia and smiled. 
"Thank you for your help, Cassiopeia.  We're not any closer to figuring
out what happened to Starbuck, but...you may have helped give us a chance
of finding him."
     "I'm glad I could help, Commander," the med-tech said, and then she
finally decided to leave Adama's quarters.
     Of course it won't change anything when he gets back, Cassiopeia
found herself able to resume that edge of lighthearted thinking as she
reached the doorway that led out into the main corridor.  I'd like to
think of Athena and me as friendly rivals, but we are still rivals
ultimately. I wouldn't want it any other way.  Just so long as we'd stay
friendly.
     And if I don't end up winning, she's the only person I wouldn't mind
seeing win instead.  And if I end up winning, I hope, by all the Lords,
that there's someone else out there for her because she deserves it.

********************

     Adama grew serious agin.  "But that doesn't end our problems. 
Someone has responded to the message, yes?"
     "Unfortunately, the wrong someone," answered Tigh.  "Long-range rear
scan indicates three Cylon fighters just emerged from the asteroid dust
cloud behind us."
     "Positive identification on that?"
     "Yes sir, no question.  I increased rear sensors to get a clear
enough indication for the war manual to check them out."
     "Do they appear to be heading for the Galactica?
     "No.  The scanners indicate that their projected course is to the
area from which Starbuck's Recon Viper One sent the signals," said
Colonel Tigh.  "That's where Apollo and Boomer are, too."
     Adama stroked his chin.  "It's clear they couldn't decipher what the
message meant or else they would have sent out a lot more than just three
ships."  He rubbed his chin.  "It does present us with a dilemma, though. 
They're clearly focusing their scanners on the source of the transmssion,
or else they would have been able to pick up the Fleet on a wide
concentrated scan."
     "Eventually they will spot us."
     "We'll have to bring the fleet up to flank speed, move out of their
maximum scan range potential as soon as possible," decided the commander.
     Tigh's eyes narrowed as he realized what Adama meant.  "That means
putting Blue Squadron out of contact with us."
     "We have no choice," Adama said.  "Order a new course and have the
Fleet move at flank speed, to give us as much space possible from those
Cylons."
     The commander then looked the executive officer in the eye to let
him know that he was not about to let any personal considerations
influence his decision. "It is so ordered, Colonel."
     "Yes sir," said Tigh without much enthusiasm.

********************

     It took Alpha twenty centons to explain the history of the
Destructon colony and how it operated to this day, long after Destructon
had ceased to be an active part of the Colonial Frontier.
     "My ancestor Viciab was an Aquarian merchant, who was sentenced to
Destructon for stealing a cargo load of Negoxon and silk," she said.  "He
was the original sinner in my family.  But he taught the merchant codes
to his daughter, and it was passed down on by every subsequent generation
down to my mother who taught it to me.  It was always meant to me a
symbol of hope to the lucky one who could not only break free from the
troopers, but successfully return to the home world of our ancestors."
     "Can you describe in a little more detail how you escaped?" Apollo
was fascinated by the narrative.
     "Nothing to it, love," Alpha said.  "All you have to do is just walk
out of your cell under cover of darkness, and if you have enough
rudimentary flight skills, you can make it off Destructon to one of these
nearby smaller asteroids.  I live in a community of others like myself
who've done it."
     "Wait a centon," Boomer said disbelievingly.  "You just walked out
of your cell?"
     "Yes, Lieutenant," Alpha smiled mirthlessly.  "The locks on those
cells haven't worked in generations.  All the prisoners know that.  The
Troopers know that, and it would be too cumbersome a task to have them
fixed."
     "Then why do they stay there?"
     "Because of all those generations of thinking its okay for them to
stay in prison for the crimes of their ancestors has warped their minds
completely.  They actually believe they're still doing their patriotic
duty making ambrosa for the Colonial warriors and that they'd be guilty
of treason of they thought of themselves first."
     "Unbelievable," Boomer shook his head.  "And no one ever bothers to
wonder why no Colonial freighters ever come by to pick up the stocks?"
     "The Troopers told them the usual pickups continued to happen.  But
that they always happened during curfew when it was time for us to be
back in our cells."  He lowered his head.  "The funny thing is, I really
don't hate Kraspo and his minions.  They're as much victims as we are. 
They're the descendants of the original guards and their ancestors taught
them to believe that Colonial civlization hadn't forgotten hem, and that
it was important that they keep Destructon operational for the time when
the Colonies would make contact with us again.  They're not evil, they
just think they're doing their patriotic duty, like the prisoners think
they're doing theirs by not escaping."
     "Okay," Apollo nodded.  "But when you and the others got off
Destructon to this safe haven, why didn't you just head straight for the
Colonies?"
     "There are hundreds here, Captain, more than my shuttle can hold. 
Besides, it's not capable of going that far.  I had no idea where the
nearest operational outpost on the Colonial Frontier was after all these
centurons," Alpha said.  "That's why I had to stay in this area and hope
to find a ship I could commandeer that would serve my purpose.  And when
I unexpectedly crossed paths with Starbuck, I realized the Lords of Kobol
had finally answered my prayers.  I knew I'd be the only one to reach a
Colony, but it was still my best hope.
     "And I didn't mean any harm to your friend," Alpha continued. 
"I---I couldn't stand the thought of growing old and dying in that prison
like my parents and grandparents before me, that's why I did what I did."
     "I see," Apollo continued to nod, this time in full understanding. 
"Now that I know the full story, I won't condemn you.  If I were in your
position I might have done the same.  But now you realize of course that
it was all for nothing."
     "So you've explained," Alpha sighed.  "The Colonies all destroyed
now and under Cylon occupation.  And just within the last three sectars. 
It sounds like the cruelest joke of all."
     "But we can provide safe haven for you and everyone on Destructon in
the Fleet," Apollo said.  "That goes for the Troopers as well as the
prisoners...if the news of what's happened to the Colonies shocks them
back to their senses, because if there's no more Colonial civilization
for them to be part of, then their reason for maintaining Destructon no
longer applies.
     "That's true," Alpha succeeded.
     "All right then," Apollo nodded.  "Let's get on with the mission
objective, finish it as fast as we can."

********************

     "We've assumed port flank heading away from the binary system,
Commander," Tigh said.  "We're now completely out of the maximum possible
scanning range of those Cylon fighters."
     "Good," Adama said as he settled down in his chair on the Bridge's
upper level and reached for his mug to finish off his fourth cup of
nearcaf.  As soon as he tasted it, he winced as he realized it had gone
stone cold since he'd set it down.
     It won't be long before there's none of this left, he thought. 
There's no time to find the raw plant form for cultivation on the
agro-ship.  Sooner or later the supplies we have will be gone and humans
will one day never remember what this tasted like.
     The thought made him snigger as he set down the mug.  Ila, his late
wife, had been the most addicted nearcaf drinker of anyone he knew.  She
just couldn't get through the day without at least five to seven cups of
the steaming black liquid.  And not matter how much their family med-tech
warned her about the health hazards of too much nearcaf, her consumption
of it continued unabated, and he could remember plenty of times
throughout their marriage when she would get irritable if they'd run out
of nearcaf and she was unable to have any.
     I wonder how all the other compulsive nearcaf drinkers like she was
are coping now?"
     "Colonel," Adama scooted forward in his seat.  "Now that we're out
of scanning range of those fighters, have the Fleet return to a
straight-line formation at reduced speed.  That will put us in position
to move back into their range when it might be safer."
     "Yes sir."
     Adama picked up his empty mug and wondered if he should order
another mug.  Before he could make up his mind, he was surprised to see
Boxey wandering onto the upper level, and right over to his station.
     "Boxey!" Adama said with pleasant surprise.  "What brings you here? 
You still have another centar in your sleep cycle."
     "I couldn't get back to sleep after they woke Dad up and he had to
go," the little boy said.  "I never sleep well when he's away, so I read
more of the book you gave me."
     Adama then noticed that his grandson was holding the illustrated
volume of the The Facts of the All Seeing Primal.
     "I'm pleased that you find it so interesting, Boxey," Adama said as
he reached for his grandson so he could sit him down on his knee.  "What
was your favorite part?"
     "The part where it talks about Earth," Boxey said as he handed the
book to Adama.  "What it says about what Earth is like.  Is all that
really true?"
     "Of course it is, Boxey," Adama smiled and patted him on the
shoulder as he took the book with his other hand.  "If I didn't think
Earth was exactly like the All Seeing Primal describes it, I wouldn't be
trying to find it."
     "How will we know how to find it?"
     "Good question," Adama said as he opened the book and thumbed
through the pages, thanking the Lords that his fascination with ancient
history had led him to buy this children's volume many, many yahrens ago
and keep it in his personal library aboard the Galactica.  "Ah, here it
is.  On page twenty, the All Seeing Primal relates how the people of
Kobol first learned about what kind of system Earth lay in: 'Twas a
system of nine planets orbiting a bright yellow sun.  Earth, the third of
the nine, held more abundance than any other world ever beheld by the
eyes of man,'" he pointed at the pages. "Here it even describes what ther
other planets in the system are like and why the people of Kobol know
that only Earth was suitable for them to settle on."
     "Did they draw a map of it, like they do for other things?" Boxey
said.
     Adama smiled as he hugged his grandson and then placed the book back
in Boxey's hand.  "I know of no such map, unfortunately.  But, if you put
your mind to it, you could draw a map of your very own, just the way it's
described here.  And then when your father comes back from his mission,
you can present it to him as a gift."
     Boxey held the book with a thoughtful expression and then looked up
at him.  "He's gonna come back, isn't he?  And Starbuck and Boomer too?" 
     "Of course he is," Adama said gently.  "You know how good a warrior
he is.  Now, if you can't get back to sleep, why don't you get started on
that map so you can surprise your father with it at the next family
dinner?"
     Boxey climbed down from his grandfather's knee, a determined look on
his face now.
     "Thanks, Grandpa!  I'll do it!" he said.
     "Of course," Adama smiled as he watched his grandson hurry off.

********************

     Starbuck was glad that the paintings and drawings on the wall of his
cell were there to provide some needed distraction from what he regarded
as the insanity that existed on Destructon.  The less he conversed with
the prisoners, the better he felt.  After all, Apollo and Boomer were out
there somewhere, searching for him, so if he could just relax and wait
they'd eventually track him to the Destructon Prison.
     At first, Starbuck noticed how on the outer areas of the walls,
there were a number of drawings that looked like animals.  Animals that
didn't strike any immediate recognition in him, save for one that he knew
to be an equine.  As he moved toward the back wall area, furthest away
from the cell door, he noticed how the drawings took on a different
character.  Now he saw what looked like the vista of a town or city, but
the buildings were of a design he had never seen the likes of before.  To
one oside of the vista, he could see the scratchings of characters of
some kind but they spelled a word that made absolutely no sense to him. 
But next to the indecipherable words, he could see what looked like a
crude attempt at drawing a young woman and a small child.  Underneath the
woman and child were two more sets of meaningless characters, which made
Starbuck wonder if Hapgood, if that was who drew these people, had
written their names in a language that was totally unknown to him.
     On the other, his eyes narrowed at a strange rectangular motif.  In
the upper left side corner was a solid blue field dotted with several
rows of white specks.  The rest of the design consisted of thirteen
alternating stripes of red and white.
     A pennant of some kind, Starbuck thought.  But does it represent
Hapgood's home, or something else entirely?
     His eyes wandered to what took up most of the back wall.  This was
something he could comprehend more easily since it was clearly some kind
of map that depicted a solar system.  At the center of the wall was a
yellow sun of modest size.  Hapgood had taken a considerable amount of
care in sketching this series of planets and their orbital paths around
the sun.  He counted the number of planets depectied there and saw nine. 
The planets varied in size from a tiny red speck that was closest to the
sun, to a massive reddish-white one that was the fifth furtest out.  The
sixth planet was the second largest and had a set of rings circling its
equator, just like Virgon back in the colonies.
     It was the third planet that captured Starbuck's attention, causing
him to frown in concentration.  It was larger than the specks that were
the first and ninth planets, yet smaller than the giants that were the
fifth and sixth.  But it somehow managed to have more detail on it than
any of the other planets.  He could see a general blueness with what
seemed like brownish-green landmasses dotting the surface, as though
oceans and continents were being depicted.  He could also see a line
rising from the upper section of the planet, and it reminded Starbuck of
how one might draw a launch trajectory. 
     I guess this was Hapgood's way of telling these simpletons he came
from the third planet, Starbuck thought.  But it's unlike any star system
in the Colonial Frontier I can remember.
     He continued to study the map in fascination when he suddenly heard
a stern voice from outside his cell.
     "'Oi!  Bootleg-guh! Take your bloomin' ambrosa bottle an' don't give
me no fel-guh-cahb!"
     Starbuck turned around and a disgusted look came over him when he
saw a Trooper standing outside his cell.  Next to him was a stand of
ambrosa bottles that was being wheeled from cell to cell.
     "What part of 'my name's Starbuck' doesn't anybody around here
understand?" he said coldly.
     "Oh you can just fuh-get that was ever your name, guv'nuh.  From now
on you're gonna be known as Bootleg-guh 137." The guard tossed a marker
through the bars.  "Now put that around your neck, and remember the first
rule:  never argue with a Trooper."
     Starbuck got to his feet, "137, huh? I would've thought being an
original sinner being an original sinner entitled me to be number one." 
He picked up the marker with disdain and flung it asked.  "I don't need
to put myself into a drunken stupor if I don't want to."
     "Take your new bottle and drink!  Now!"
     "How about I bash it across your chops instead!" Starbuck started
angrily as he placed his hands on the metal bars of his cell door.
     The door swung open with a raspy squeak.
     "What in Hades?" he said as he stumbled into the corridor.
     A gasp went up from the other prisoners, who were all at the bars
watching in concern.
     "Get back inside," called Assault anxiously.  "Close your door,
guv'nuh!"
     "They don't like us to do that," said Adultress, frowning through
her bars at him.
     "Close that door!" the Trooper barked.  "That's an order!"
     Starbuck swung it open further and stepped outside.  "Make me!" he
eyed him with disdain.  "Since you're not carrying a laser, pistol, I
guess that makes your job tougher, doesn't it?"
     Abruptly, the Trooper turned around and made a hasty exit out of the
cell block.  As Starbuck stood out in the corridor, he could hear all of
the prisoners lining the bars, all of them saying, "Go back!  Get back
inside!  Get back inside!"
     Starbuck remained in the stone corridor.  "Now folks," he said,
glancing around at his fellow inmates, "you can't mean that none of these
cells are locked."
     "They haven't worked in generations," answered Assault, his eyes on
the floor.  "Central control mechanism bit the dust ages ago."
     Starbuck's eyes bulged.  "Let me get this straight in my poor old
battered brain," he said.  "Your cells aren't locked, not a one of 'em,
but you all stay here anyway.  Why, may I ask, do you do that?"
     "Because we can't," Assault shook his head.
     "Why the frack not?" Starbuck was on the verge of insanity,
wondering how much more of these absurd people he could take.
     "It's the way things are," added Forger.
     "Our fathers were prisoners," explained Adultress. "Our mothers were
prisoners. We're prisoners.  That's the way of the universe."
     "Felgercarb!" The Galactica warrior decided he'd been through enough
with them.  "Stop acting like nitwits.  We're all human beings.  And, in
case you haven't heard, we have certain rights.  The right to freedom is
one of 'em."
     "You're not old enough to understand because you're an original
sinner, Starbuck," Assault said gently.  "When you've been part of this
structure of life for generations as have we, it's easier to understand
why we just accept our fates."
     "Look," Starbuck came over to Assault's cell.  "If you want to spend
the rest of your lives in an ambrosa stupor, deluding yourselves with all
this felgercarb, that's fine.  But what about your children?  How can you
live with yourselves condemning them to a lifetime in these cells and
this stinking prison complex?"
     "They will grow up to be patriots like us!" Forger said indignantly. 
"Producing ambrosa for the Colonial Warriors as we have, and our fathers
before."
     "When was the last time any of you went down to the warehouses and
the loading docks?" Starbuck shouted angrily.  "All of the ambrosa you've
ever made is still aging down there!  There isn't a single Colonial
Warrior that's ever tasted a drop of what you've made!"
     A startled gasp went up from all the prisoners.  Starbuck's words
had the same effect on them as if he'd said he was one of the Lords of
Kobol.
     "What is this madness you spout?" Assault's eyes widened in
astonishment.
     "These penal asteroids got lost in the Colonial bureaucracy hundreds
of yahrens ago!  Since then, nobody's even been aware that Destructon was
ever part of the Colonial Frontier.  All we've got left are some old star
maps with a name and no information about what was still here."
     "That'll be enough out of you, Bootlegger." Kraspo had appeared in
the corridor.  He glared at Starbuck.  "Get back in your cell or you're a
dead man!"
     "No. It's going to take you and couple of your stooges to get me in
there again," Starbuck informed the Trooper Captain.  "Boy, you've got
some deal going going here.  Keep these poor folks slaving away for
nothing while you lord it over them."
     "There is a purpose to this," said Kraspo.  "Making ambrosa for our
fighting men is their duty, enforcing the law is ours.  My father was a
Trooper and his father was  a Trooper.
     "Yeah, sure," said Starbuck impatiently.
     "Kraspo!' Assault barked.  "He says that the Colonies forgot about
us hundreds of yahrens ago and that the ambrosa is all wasting away on
the docks!"
     Kraspo's head bolted toward him, surprised to have heard this, but
he kept his expression cold.  "He's a liar!"
     "Oh?" Starbuck refused to let up.  "Tell us the last time a Colonial
freighter docked here."
     "The business of the troopers is covered by security restrictions. 
I'm forbidden to---"
     "Have you ever seen a freighter, Kraspo?  Did your father?"
     "I warned you!" Kraspo ignored him and motioned the one Trooper with
the laser pistol to open fire.
     Starbuck bolted back into his cell to escape the laser blast and
then had to roll under his bed to dodge a secondary blast.
     "Will you people open up your ears and listen to me!" he shouted at
the top of his voice.  "For generations you've been wasting your damn
lives.  You haven't helped the Colonies!"
     Assault looked at the Trooper.  "Does he speak the truth?" 
     "He does not!" Kraspo assured him.  "He's just a dirty thieving
bootlegger trying to save his own hide!"
     "I'm a Colonial Warrior!" Starbuck got to his feet, "Lieutenant
Starbuck of the Battlestar Galactica!I But you don't have to take my word
for it.  All you have to do is walk out of that cell, Assault, and go
outside.  Look at the damn docking area and the spacedrome.  Then you
tell me if this whole mess isn't just a stupid boondoggle to keep Kraspo
and his Troopers in power."
     "Falsehoods!" Kraspo matched Starbuck's tone.  "And when the
Colonies make contact with us again, it'll be my pleasure to---"
     "Wait!" said Assault.
     "There's no need to pay any attention to this man," said the
Trooper.
     Ignoring him, Assault opened the door of his cell, his imposing form
towering over all of the Troopers like an ursine about to attack a
hornbuck.

********************

     Princess Alpha tapped her fingers on the side of her seat.  "You've
known Starbuck for a while, huh?"
     "I sure have."  Apollo, clad now in Trooper garb, was at the
controls of the fighter.  They were nearing Destructon.  "Can you give me
a landing pattern that'll set us now by the prison?"
     Nodding,she reached over, punched out one on the dash controls. 
"That should do it."
     "Much obliged."
     Alpha said, "I find myself having mixed feelings about him."
     "Starbuck?  You just have to get used to him.  It takes awhile, but
you will," Apollo told her.  "Starbuck just knows how to be one thing:
Starbuck."
     "I realize that now," she said.  "When I...um...laid him up and
stole his Viper, I thought that'd be the last I'd ever see of him."  She
shrugged.
     The dark asteroid grew larger and larger beyond the canopy of the
ship.
     "Starbuck, if you think about it, is like a bad habit.  He's hard to
give up."
     "Just like trying to get to Aquarius," Alpha said as they began to
descend.  "I have living relatives there."
     "When was the last time you were in touch with them?"
     "Never have been in touch," the beach sand-blonde girl replied. 
"But my mother told me about her people being there."
     "There's just one thing that bothers me," said Apollo.  "Did you use
one of those  codes to try to contact Aquarius while you were in the
Viper?"
     "Yes I---" Alpha stopped in mid sentence.  "Blimey!  The Cylons
control the planet now, right?  I--I didn't know. I'm sorry."
     "You couldn't have known, isolated as you are," said Apollo.  "But
if they picked up your transmission, they'll be sending somebody to see
who sent it.  That means we can almost certainly expect them to pay us a
little visit.  And Cylon visits are never friendly ones."
     "That's something to worry about," said Alpha.  "But let's free
Starbuck first."
     "I second that motion," agreed Apollo.

********************

     Boomer sniffed the air.  "The smell's familiar," he said, "but I
can't quite place it."
     "It's ambrosa," said Thor.  "From the distilleries yonder."
     They had landed on Destructon and were moving through a wooded area
toward the rear of the prison complex.
     "They make ambrosa here?"
     "Lords of Kobol yes.  It's the only industry they've got up here,
Boomer."
     "In our corner of the universe, ambrosa's pretty damn hard to come
by."
     "Not on Destructon," he said.  "They're up to the gills with the
damn stuff, which is why the princess and a few others run loads over to
the other asteroids and planetoids from time to time."
     The lieutenant asked, "Are the distilleries part of the prison?"
     "Right out back of it," he answered.  "You'll see the whole kit and
kaboodle in about...ooops!  Hold up."  Thor held his metal hand in front
of Boomer to halt his progress along the pathway.
     "What's wrong?"
     "Heard somethin' off that way and...oh...greetin's Fortress."
     A small, bearded old man stood, barely visible, in among the trees. 
He leaned on a knobby wooden staff.
     "Wellsir, if it ain't Thor himself," he said in a quavery voice. 
"You here to take a load?"
     "Nope, nope, just a friendly visit."
     "'Cause we been able to acquire another hundred cases."
     "I'll let the princess know."
     "Aw, she took her last load from Celestial Knife and his bunch,"
Fortress shook his head sadly, causing his long beard to flutter.  "Any
fool knows he waters down his ambrosa.  It ain't got the quality ours
has."
     Thor inquired.  "How ya doin'?"
     "Can't complain," answered Fortress.  "The terrible pain in my back
ain't lettin' up none, but I've learned to live with it.  The dizzy
spells are a mite better, though.  And the last time I fell over in a
swoon I landed on mossy ground and didn't break any bones."
     "Well, it's been right nice chattin' with you," Thor said, grinning. 
"We'll be moseyin' along now.  And if you hear a lot of loud noises in a
spell, don't you worry none."
     "I'm lucky to hear anything at all these days, way my hearin's
goin'."  He gave them a wave before disappearing among the trees.
     "That's one of the dangerous long term side effects of smugglin',"
said Thor as he and Boomer continued to make their way to the prison. 
"You get hooked on your own product."

********************

Chapter Fifteen: Thank God,  Free at Last!
     
     When the rest of the prisoners had all reacted to Starbuck's
revelation about being a warrior, they all swung the doors of their cells
open, as if in unison.
     "We can settle this easily, Croad," Adultress said, her voice angry
even through her slurred tone.  "Just show us the loadin' docks."
     "No!"
     "You got something to hide?" Forger barked.
     "Yes!" Assault was now crowding his way between the unarmed guards
and Kraspo.  The one Trooper who was armed was findingit difficult to
keep his weapon trained, since theywere on the verge of being surrounded. 
"Show us, you piece of daggit dung!"
     For the first time in his life, an edge of panic entered Kraspo's
face. "All right, all right, we have full warehouses, yes!  But we
maintain them for the day when the Colonies will make contact with us
again, and we keep this facility functioning so they'll know we've been
doing our job all these hundreds of yahrens too!"
     In a flash, Starbuck abruptly understood that the Troopers, in their
own wretched way had been misleading themselves for just as long as they
misled the inmates.  Both groups of peopole tied to a firm belief that
they needed to keep doing what they'd always done in the name of loyalty
to the Colonial cause.
     "Kraspo," Starbuck said, "there isn't any point keeping this
facility going. The Colonies lost the war to the Cylons, and the last
survivors are now fleeing the Home Quadrant.  It's only a matter of time
before the Cylons find this spot and wipe you out completely."
     "What?" this time the startled gasp came from both prisoners and
Troopers alike.
     "The reason why I'm in this quadrant to begin with is because the
Battlestar Galactica is leading the surviving remnants of the Colonies to
a place of safety and we need to scout out what lies in front of us." 
Starbuck knew he had to give the absolute truth to make the maximum
impact.  "You're all at risk if you stay here on Destructon.  I can help
make it possible for you to reach safe haven aboard the Galactica.  We're
not what you'd call well off, but it's a chance for all of you to finally
have some meaning and purpose in your lives again!" he then paused.  "And
thanks to all that ambrosa on the docks, you can all be very rich people
in our society."
     The prisoners were all out of their cells now, and Starbuck could
tell from the looks on the faces of the guards that they didn't have the
appetite to resist.  The one armed guard had already dropped his weapon,
while Kraspo seemed defeated.
     "We shall all follow you, Starbuck!" Assault said.  "Let's get the
prisoners in the other cell blocks out and tell the other guards they
don't have to follow this space scum's orders any longer."  He
contemptuously shoved Kraspo aside.  The Trooper Captain collided with
Forger, who promptly showed his contempt for the man by yanking Kraspo's
helmet off and placing it atop his head.
     "All right then," Starbuck grinned, "let's get going!"
 
********************

     It only took a few centons for the prisoners in Starbuck's block to
have the rest of the prisoners in the complex freed.  By the time they
emerged, some eighty prisoners and their families had emerged, with
themore than three dozen guards mixing with them.  The guards, for the
most part, had a sense of relief and acceptance of the new situation,
with only Kraspo showing signs of disgruntlement. Nonetheless, all the
defiance in the Trooper Captain's spirit was truly history now.
     "Fresh air," Assault said with a beaming smile as he and Starbuck
led the crowd down toward the warehouses and docks. "All these yahrens,
moving from that stinking complex to the distilleries, we rarely got to
go outside."
     "That's one of the things freedom's about," Starbuck grinned. 
"Being able to breath fresh air whenever you want to."
     "So what do we do once we get to the docks?" Forger asked as he
adjusted Kraspo's helmet on his head.
     "We round up all the available shuttles we can find, and I take off
and find a way of signaling the Galactica," Starbuck said.  "Once we
establish contact, then they can send back shuttles for those of you who
can't fit aboard the ships here.  No matter what happens though, none of
you are going to be left behind."  He paused and then grinned.  "Of
course, we're also going to have to make sure we load as much of this
ambrosa as is humanly possibly for transport as well, since that's
paramount to our newly acquired wealth.  How much do you think is loaded
here?"
     Assault took a glance at an open warehouse where crates were stacked
all the way up to the ceiling.  "Guv'nuh, there be the fruits of ten
generations all piled up around here."
     "Perfect," Starbuck's grin widened.  "I can see it's gonna work out
just peachy for all of us."  All ready the brash warrior was trying to
calculate how many thousands of cubits he'd be able to collect from just
one sale of a case of ambrosa.  Perhaps enough to pay Zumdish off for
yahrens of favors aboard the Rising Star, he thought.
     At that moment, everyone's head looked up into the night sky.
     "Ho!" Assault suddenly shouted.  "There's a squad craft coming in
for a landing!"
     "Nothing to worry about, my friend," grinned Starbuck, patting his
laser gun.  "I'll act as a welcoming committee."
 
********************

     "Are you positive you can bring this off?"  Alpha asked as the
fighter lowered toward a landing next to the Destructon prison.
     "Impersonating a Trooper?  Sure," answered Apollo.
     "You don't look all that convincing in Fedor's uniform, love.  Just
thought I'd point that out."
     Apollo guffawed.  "No wonder Starbuck's taken a liking to you.  You
are a feisty one."
     "I don't think he likes me very much."
     "Trust me, he...Holy Frak!  What's going on down there?"
     Alpha leaned forward in her seat.  
     "The inmates," she said.  "They're rushing out of the damn bloody
pesthole."
     "And that's not usual?"
     "No, it's not."
     Apollo concentrated on landing.  Having accomplished that, he said,
"I think I know what's going on.  There's Starbuck."
     The lieutenant, gun in hand, was strolling over to their ship.
     Popping the canopy, Apollo dropped to the ground.  "You shouldn't
have gone to all this trouble for us, old boy," he said.  "A simple brass
band would've sufficed."
     "By all that's holy! Starbuck said.  "Fancy meeting you here...and
you."
     Very tentatively, Alpha climbed free of the ship.  She remained
close to it, watching Starbuck.
     He thrust his gun into his belt and then gave her a big hug.  "You
have no idea how good it is to see you again."
     "Let's not overdo it, now," she said, slowly pulling free of him. 
"There's no need to get so damn...but, well, I missed you too."
     "See?  Didn't I warn you that eventually you'd realize how charming
I am?"
     "Don't let me spoil this reunion," said Apollo.  "But I really think
we ought to think about departing."
     "Something wrong?" Starbuck asked him.
     "Cylons. It's possible we've got some out there gunning for us,"
said Apollo.

********************

Chapter Sixteen: Dogfight!

     "Well frack that all with a wooden stick, remarked Thor, "we didn't
get to have us no damn fun at all.  Looks like the fightin' is all over
and done with."
     "I, for one, am glad to see it," Boomer said as they walked over to
the others.
     "G'day, Starbuck," said Thor, saluting him lazily with his metal
hand.  "Are there maybe some Troopers still holed up inside the prison? 
Die-hards who won't give up without a pitched battle and lots of
violence?
     "They all gave up just before you guys arrived," the lieutenant
informed him.
     "Frack, felgercarb and shit!" Thor kicked at the high grass.
     Starbuck gave Boomer a gentle nudge.  "Have you feasted your eyes on
all these crates surrounding us?  Each and every one of them contains
bottles of aged ambrosa," he explained, smirking.  "Picture, if you will,
a situation in which you and I, Boomer, return in triumph to the
Galactica with a few cases of aged ambrosa tucked beneath our arms. I'm
like a god, y'know, beloved by all and sundry aboard the ship."
     "Can we please abstain from relating sleep-period fables," suggested
Apollo, "and concentrate on the problem at hand?"
     Booomer asked, "Worried about the Cylons?"
     The captain said, "And with good reason.  Signals were sent on a
narrow beam all the way back to Aquaria.  Since the Cylons control that
particular planet, it's only logical to assume they've picked them up by
now."
     "For Sagan's sake!" Boomer yelled.  "Who'd be dumb enough to do
that?"
     "That'd be me, love," Alpha told the black lieutenant.  "I didn't
know that Aquaria was no longer friendly."
     Starbuck gave her a reassuring pat on the backside. "No use weeping
over spilled ambrosa," he advised.  "What we've got to do now is figure
out a way to outfox the patrol the Cylons will almost certainly send.
     Apollo asked, "Any notions about how we do that?"
     Starbuck hauled out one of his evil-smelling fumarellos.  He lit it
up and took a drag.  "We'll need my new Recon Viper," he said. "And that
means returning to the delightful planetoid we just vacated.  And getting
the crate in flying shape again."
     "I don't know if there's going to be time for that," said Apollo.
     "Well, I'm a gambling man, so I'm willing to gamble that we do." 
Unexpectedly, Starbuck kissed Alpha on the cheek.  "Don't go away, my
love.  I'll return to you as soon as the skies are safe for humanity."
     "You don't owe me---"
     "Shush!" he said.  "Just follow my instructions and everything
should be A-okay."  Spinning on his heel, he started for the fighter. 
"Which of you space loiterers wants to give me a lift?"
     Boomer looked at Apollo.  "I've got a cubit in my pocket.  Want me
to flip it to see which one of us gets the honor?"
     "That's not necessary; I'll take him," volunteered Apollo.  "I think
I know what he's got in mind and...well, it just might work."

********************

     "Outstanding!" said Boomer.
     "Do you refer to the way I have, both deftly and swiftly, restored
Recon Viper One to flying shape?" Starbuck shut his tool kit and then
wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
     "No, to the way you managed to charm that woman," said the
lieutenant.  "When you and Alpha parted, there were tears in her eyes."
     "That's probably hayfever," Apollo was looking skyward.  "Somewhere
along the line, she developed an allergy to him."
     Wiping his palms on his backside, Starbuck said, "Our day-in,
day-out contact aboard the battlestar causes you gents to take me for
granted.  It's obvious you overlook my many dazzling attributes."
     "I hope speed is one of them," said Apollo.
     "It's one of them," Starbuck climbed into his cockpit.  "Say, didn't
I only meet the young lady a matter of a few---"
     "Are you still babbling about that terrible tramp?" asked his
computer.
     "Howdy-doo, C.O.R.A," Starbuck strapped himself into his seat. After
all that foolishness back on Destructon, hearing that infernal voice
again actually felt good. "Did you miss me?"
     "Not a bit."
     "Not even a little?"
     "Not even that much.  I made up my mind that if you're going to
throw yourself at every beautiful girl that comes down the pike, I'm not
going to sit here and fret."
     "But I always come back to you, my love."  Starbuck grinned out at
his two friends.  "I'll go aloft now, fellas.  You stand by to perform
your roles in our little surprise for the Cylons."
     Apollo leaned close to him.  "Remember one thing; they're armed and
you're not."
     "How could I forget that?"
     "Good luck," added Boomer.
     "Who needs it?  With my skill and C.O.R.A's micro-circuitry, it
ought to be a piece of cake."  He closed himself into the cockpit.
     Apollo and Boomer moved clear of Recon Viper One.  In a moment,
after a final grin and wave from Starbuck, the craft went roaring up from
the surface of the planetoid.
     "How many of those tinheads are gonna be keeping us company out
here?" said Boomer, watching the Viper climb into the sky. 
     "We'll soon find out," said Apollo.

********************

     C.O.R.A spotted them first.
     "Oh my!" she said.  "Here they come!"
     "Give me a visual."
     "On screen, hon."
     He noted three blips of greenish light against the dark screen. 
"Only three?"
     "Yes, and all armed to the teeth."
     Exhaling smoke, Starbuck said, "It's showtime, pet.  Let's see if we
can attract their attention."
     "You absolutely certain you want to try this, hon?"
     Starbuck grinned.  "It's too late for me to back out now."  He
punched out a course that would bring him close to the trio of
approaching Cylon fighters.
     "It's going to be three against one," reminded the computer as they
rushed toward the peril-fraught rendezvous.
     "Three against three when Apollo and Boomer join in."
     "But you don't have any lasers."
     "I've got a superior brain.  That should be armament enough," he
said.
     He could see the three formidable Cylon fighters looming ever larger
outside his cockpit window.
     "They'll fire in point-eight-five centons," the computer informed
him.
     "Okay, sweets, engage turbo-thrusters a micron before they start
shooting."
     "Right you are, Bucky!"
     "And don't call me Bucky!"
     The three Cylon ships had altered course and were heading right for
Starbuck.
     Their laser cannons started to fire, etching lines of intense
brightness across the darkness.  But they didn't come near hitting him. 
Recon Viper One had accelerated suddenly, swooping out of range.
     "Hey, that was beautiful!" exclaimed Starbuck as he banked the
Viper.
     "Yes, wasn't it," agreed C.O.R.A.  "I spoke too soon, hon.  Here
they come again.  Hold on!"
     The Cylons were diving, all three ships intent on catching up with
Starbuck.
     He executed a swift turn, accelerated again and once more eluded
their banks of laser guns.
     "What say we spring our trap now?"  He banked and headed back for
the planetoid.  "I bet our Cylon buddies'll like this next little
surprise."
     
********************

     "He's got 'em occupied," announced Apollo, checking his scanner
screen.  "Let's do it, Boomer!"
     Instants later, the captain's Viper blazed up from the planetoid's
surface.  Boomer brought up the rear.
     Both Vipers came up behind the trio of Cylon fighters that were
intent on Starbuck.  Apollo selected the Cylon ship on the far right.  He
began shortening the gap between them.
     "Surprise!" he said, firing his port and starboard cannons.
     The Cylon fighter glowed suddenly.  It seemed to hesistate for an
instant and then exploded.  The pieces rushed away from each other.
     The ship Boomer had gone after became aware of him before he got in
his first shot.  It broke formation, veering to the left.  Boomer
pursued.  The third Cylon fighter noticed him too.  Banking, it came
diving after him.  
     "Whoops!  That Cylon's gunnin' for Boomer," Starbuck said.
     "Poor thing."
     "Save the pity, C.O.R.A love," said the lieutenant as his mind made
a hurried set of calculations.  "Hike up the speed."  He swung the Viper
into an arc.  
     "What do you have in mind?"
     "I've got to make that Cylon idiot flinch and go off his course,"
explained Starbuck impatiently.  "So we're going to have to cut in
between him and Boomer."
     "That'll be like threading a needle."
     "Kick us up to maximum speed."
     "You'll black out from the pressure," C.O.R.A noted.
     "Yeah, but you won't, kiddo," Starbuck said, feeling totally
different about C.O.R.A now than he had before. "You're not human after
all."
     "I'm beginning to regret that," the feminine voice sighed.
     HHhhhhHhdddHmmm, maybe I should get Wilker to program this voice
into something a little more practical, Starbuck mused.
     "Initiate heading, now!"
     Apollo witnessed the whole show, but he didn't quite believe it. 
He'd been swinging his Viper around to give Boomer a hand.
     He saw that the second Cylon ship was closing in behind the
lieutenant. He spoke into his helmet mike to give a warning.
     But then something came wizzing across the darkness.  It sizzled
through the narrow gap between Boomer and his pursuer.
     The Cylon swerved to avoid what he had to believe was a certain
collision.  Starbuck's ship got through the gap unscathed.

********************

     "That maneuver of his worked!" Boomer said as he pulled up behind
the Cylon fighter he'd been tailing.  "These two'll be a cinch now."
     The image of the fighter blinked on his attack computer, indicating
that he was locked onto it.  Boomer thumbed the red button and turned the
Cylon fighter into jagged, scattering fragments.
     Even before the explosion had died down, Apollo sneaked up on the
remaining Cylon ship, which was still a bit wobbly from its near
encounter with Starbuck's lightning-fast Recon Viper One.
     Apollo fired his lasers and that took care of the last of the Cylon
fighters. 
     "You okay, Boomer?"
     "Mighty fine," answered the lieutenant.  "Thanks, one and all for
the assistance."
     "That was a handsome piece of flying, Starbuck."
     There was no answer.
     "Starbuck?  Come in, Starbuck!"
     C.O.R.A said, "Oh, the poor boy's out cold.

********************

     "I told you it would hurt you.  Now you're in a stupor, with your
poor dear brains all scrambled and goodness knows what else is wrong."
     The brash warrior had to blink several times before he felt his
sense of where he was start to return.
     "Ohhhh!" he moaned.  "That was even worse than the Academy
simulator!"
     "At least you can still mutter."
     He then glanced around and saw that he was flying through space with
no sign of any Cylons anywhere.
     "We did it!" he grinned.  
     "Of course we did."
     He rubbed at his cheekbones.  "So why are you so glum, dear?"
     "I thought you were dead or worse."
     "Only a blackout," he assured her.  "Is Boomer all right?"
     "Yes. Captain Apollo destroyed the Cylon fighter that was after
him," answered the computer.  "Lieutenant Boomer took care of the other
one."
     "Hey, that's swell," said Starbuck.  "Three out of three is one damn
fine score."
     "I think you'd better allow me to run a full physical checkup on
you," suggested C.O.R.A  "You can't tell what sort of dire and dreadful
injuries you may have sustained."
     "Don't bother.  I feel great," he said.  "Now, let's return to
Destructon."
     "Must we?"
     "Duty calls, love."
     "Duty?"  The computer produced a sniffing noise.  "It's that
dreadful outlaw woman."

********************

Chapter Seventeen: "We can't force anybody to come with us."

     Starbuck thumped himself on the chest.  "I guarantee it," he said to
Apollo.  "I'm in crackerjack shape."
     "Er...you're just a little bit glassy eyed, good buddy."
     They were in the Destructon prison docking area, near their
just-landed Vipers.
     "He always looks that way," Boomer pointed out.
     "I mean more so than usual."  Apollo put a hand on Starbuck's
shoulder.  "You may never know for a long while what that blackout did to
you."
     "Really, granny, I'm fine."  Starbuck took out a fumarello.  "Not
that I don't appreciate the concern, but I'm still healthy."
     Boomer said, "That was a nice stunt you pulled, scaring that Cylon
off my tail."
     "With my new Viper and my considerable flying skill, it's possible
to do some pretty fancy flying," said Starbuck modestly.
     "The Cylons may well send out more ships."  Apollo was watching the
freed prisoners who had scattered into small groups around the overgrown
spaceport.
     "Meaning nobody's safe here on Destructon?" asked Boomer.
     Starbuck ignited his fumarello.  "What'd you do, Apollo?  Invite all
these folks to go back with us to the Galactica?"
     Apollo nodded.  "If we use the shuttles and the enforcer ships we
can mount a pretty good caravan that'll---"
     "Wait a micron," Boomer said.  "Getting out of that stinkin' prison
is one thing, but leaving the planetoid altogether is something not all
of them may be willing to do."
     "Outside the prison isn't exactly charming either," said Starbuck.
     "Whatever's going to be done, it'll have to be done fast," said the
captain.  "We want to be back aboard the Galactica before any more Cylons
show up in this quadrant."
     "What you'd better do, Boomer suggested, "is gather one and all
together and make a speech."

********************

     After the speech, which was short and to the point, Starbuck when
searching for Alpha.
     He found her, sitting alone, at the edge of the field.  Perching on
a case beside her, he said.  "How come you didn't listen to Apollo's
speech?"
     "He and I already talked about that," the beach sand-blonde young
woman said.  "Bascially I'm a solitary person."
     "Just like your friend Thor.  Are you trying to say you don't want
to go?"
     Alpha shrugged.  "Thor and I are alike in some ways," she said. 
"The truth is...I simply don't think I'm ready for refugee life with your
fleet."
     "Well, it's not like we're going to herd you all into pens,"
Starbuck said.
     "I like the life I've established hereabouts.  Moving around from
asteroid to asteroid," she said.  "Nobdy criticizes me if I want to get
off by myself once in a while and I do enjoy doing that."
     He touched her hand.  "Then why did you try to contact Aquaria?" he
asked her.  "Why did you take my ship so you could travel there
eventually?"
     "Merely curious, love," Alpha said.  "And restless.  Goes with my
personal territory."
     "Look," he said, "if I'm what's worrying you, forget it.  I promise
I won't heap affection on you once you're settled on the Galactica.  I
won't even try to make you my best girlfriend."
     "I wouldn't expect that.  You've undoubtedly got all sorts of women
who swoon over you back at that fleet."
     "That isn't the point," he said.  "I like you, Alpha.  Hades, I've
proved that.  What I'm saying is, once you get to the Galactica, you
won't be Starbuck's little sidekick.  You can see as much or as little of
me as you want."
     "Very well.  I understand."
     "That sad little girl tone you're using tells me otherwise," he
said.  "What I'm really anxious about is that you get your astrum off of
Destructon.  There's a very strong possibility that more Cylons'll be
coming this way before long."
     She said.  "I heard the prisoners talking while you were away.  Many
of them want to stay here."
     "Here? On Destructon?  Why would any of them ever want to spend
another micron on this godforsaken rock!"
     "It's their home.  They believe they can grow enough crops to
survive."
     "The Cylons just might have something to say about that."
     "Everything in life's a gamble."
     "I suppose some people would prefer to be farmers and not relocate
to the Fleet," he conceded.  "But I don't think that applies to you."
     "True, but---"
     "I'm not finished," he said, holding up his hand.  "How about a
compromise?  Some of the ex-prisoners will want to come with us.  We're
going to need good pilots to fly the shuttles and fighters ships. You're
an excellent flyer."
     "There are others just as good."
     "But not as attractive.  Why don't you at least fly a load of
passengers to the Battlestar," he suggested.  "Take a look around, see if
you like things there.  If you don't, you'll be free to come back here."
     Alpha considered his suggestion.  "I do owe you a favor," she said,
"since I caused you a bit of trouble."
     "You don't owe me that, but if you want---"
     "Don't say another word.  I'll do it," she said.
     "Great."  He hugged her.

********************

     "This is tantamount to a mass suicide," said Boomer.
     "We can't force anyone to come with us," Apollo said.
     "Look at it this way," put in Starbuck.  "We may be able to take
care of whatever Cylons stick their noses into this part of the
universe."
     "Tangling with the Cylons isn't my idea of a good time," said the
lieutenant.
     "Agreed.  We have no way of knowing how many ships they'll send next
time."  Apollo moved closer to his Viper.
     About two dozen of the freed Destructon inmates wanted to come along
back to the Galactica.  Roughly twice that number had voted to remain.
     Three commandeered shuttles were loaded with passengers and, at
Starbuck's recommendation, crates of the surplus ambrosa.  Alpha, who was
going to be piloting the lead shuttle, supervised its loading.
     Starbuck, dragging deeply on his cigar, watched her while he and his
fellow warriors talked.
     "The folks who are staying deserve a chance to make a go of it,"
said Boomer. "But then, if the Cylons come---"
     "Starbuck may have a point," said Apollo.  "Maybe there is a way to
stop that from happening."
     "Temporarily, yes," said Boomer.  "We can only knock out so many of
their fighters."
     "How come you look like you lost your best friend, Boom-boom?" Thor,
grinning, had come over to them.
     Starbuck said, "Boomer always puddles up at farewells and
leavetakings."
     "The Lords of Kobol have a plan for everythin', at least that's what
the Good Book says," said Thor.  "Folks get together and they separate
and it all works out in the end.  Most times, anyhow."
     Starbuck asked him, "You sure you don't want to tag along?"
     "Yep, but thanks for repeatin' the invite," he said.  "I just wasn't
meant for livin' with a whole mess of folks, Starbuck."
     "You'd fit right in on the battlestar," Starbuck told him.  "With
that trick arm of yours, you'd make a pretty good handyman."
     "Nope,  I aim to stay around here."  He pointed skyward with his
metal thumb.  "Here and over to the planetoid where we first met up."
     Giving a resigned shrug, Starbuck said, "Okay.  Wish you'd come
though."
     Thor leaned closer to him.  "Do me one favor though," he said
quietly.  "Take care of the princess, see she does okay."
     "Will do," promised Starbuck.

********************

Chapter Eighteen: The News Is Good

     As Baltar sat in the throne chair, he could hear the gliding noise
of Lucifer approaching.  Almost immediately, he had an inkling of what
the IL Cylon was going to tell him.
     Lucifer himself wondered if this was going to be the time for Baltar
to finally do more than just glare at him with disdain.  It was all too
apparent that this occasion would force the traitor to make some serious
decisions, which he had seemingly avoided doing since his rescue from the
ruins of Kobol two sectars before.
     "By your command," the IL Cylon said in that outwardly deferential
tone that always made Baltar feel a twinge uneasy.
     The throne chair spun round. "Speak."
     "The three fighter ships that were sent to investigate the signals
being sent to Aquaria have ceased to communicated.  I conclude that they
have been destroyed."
     "Destroyed?" Baltar's eyebrows went up.  "How?"
     "Our command pilot reported before the patrol was destroyed that
they detected a planetoid with a small human population, and as they
moved in to destroy it, several Colonial vipers emerged.  That was the
last transmission and there has been nothing since.  We can only assume
that he and the rest of the ships were destroyed."
     "So it would seem," Baltar said. The human traitor sunk back in his
chair.  "Have our retaliation plan ready to be put into effect. It has to
be Adama's doing."
     "A mere several vipers hardly indicates that they came from the
Galactica," said Lucifer.  
     "I will be the judge of that, dear Lucifer."
     "What is your recommendation for us?"
     There was a pause as Baltar contemplated the situation.
     "Transmit an epistle regarding our plan, 'Operation Galactica" to
the Imperious Leader at once," he finally said.  "Meanwhile, dispatch
three more ships to the region."
     "By your command."
     Bowing deeply, the IL Cylon left the room.

********************

     Aboard the Galactica, Adama decided not to bother with another mug
of nearcaf.  After six mugs of the dark liquid, he'd found he'd lost his
taste for it.
     "Commander," Tigh came over to him.  "You've been on station here
the last eight centars.  I think you should resume sleep cycle
immediately."
     "That won't be easy after all I've consumed," Adama smiled
mirthlessly as he absently held up his empty java mug.  "Still...I
suppose you're right."
     "Commander!" Omega called over.  "We're picking up three ships
entering Delta Quadrant.  Scanning now for identification."
     Adama and Tigh didn't move from their position as they waited for
the Bridge Officer's report.
     "Commander, we have confirmation of Recon Viper One, and also of
Blue Squadron patrol!"  he put his hand to his earpiece.  "Captain Apollo
reports Recon Viper one and its pilot are in good shape, all Cylon
fighters destroyed and Destructon quadrant cleared."
     Adama nodded.  "The victory is ours, for the time being at least."
     "There's more," Omega said.  "I'm reading other ships with him."
     "Other ships?"
     Omega looked down at the scanner again, pressing the earpiece even
tighter to his head.  "It's a convoy of several shuttles bringing people
who've been rescued from the asteroid Destructon."
     "We can accommodate them, I'm sure."
     "Apollo also goes on to say that most of our visitors have been
residing in a prison complex on Destructon."
     "They're criminals?"
     There was a pause as Tigh and Omega conferred. After a micron, it
was Tigh who spoke up.
     "Apollo has given his personal assurance that they're not.  He'll
explain everything when he arrives, with some help from Lieutenant
Starbuck."
     "Yes, I imagine Starbuck will have quite a report to make."  Adama
glanced toward the window and the endless night outside.
     "I've alerted the launch bays."
     Commander Adama said, "The Cylons don't like being beaten."
     "Few warriors do."
     "They'll almost certainly send more ships out here."
     "We'll be ready for them."
     "See that we are," said the commander.

********************

     Athena sat alone at a table in the Main Dining Hall of the Rising
Star.  Her slim back was turned to the view windows and she seemed to be
concentrating on the forefinger she was tapping against the side of her
glass.
     "Mind if I join you?"
     "I guess not...oh, it's you."
     Cassiopeia took the chair opposite.  "Feeling downhearted?"
     "A little bit.  And you're not exactly helping to lighten my mood
any."
     The blonde smiled tentatively.  "I dropped over to suggest a truce,"
she said.
     Looking up, Athena said, "We're not at war."
     "I know."
     "In order to have a war, the two opposing parties have to be
contesting the ownership of some valuable piece of property."
     Cassiopeia said, "And you're implying that Starbuck isn't valuable
to feud over?"
     "Right," replied Athena.  "On top of which I'm not at all interested
in owning him---even for a short spell of time."
     "He is sort of a rat, isn't he?  Attempting to take us both to
dinner, pretending that each of us was---"
     "Starbuck wouldn't have tried that, dear, unless you'd forced
yourself on him."
     "Me?" Cassiopeia touched her breast.  "It was you, sweet, who horned
in on me!"
     "Look, are we talking war or are we talking truce?"
     "You're right," Cassiopeia relaxed in her chair.  "I think you've
adopted the right attitude.  He's not worth fighting over."
     "Not now, anyway."
     She sat up.  "What's so special about now?" she asked, frowning. 
"He's safely on his way home, isn't he?"
     "Sure.  But he's bringing several shuttles full of young women with
him."
     "He is?  How'd he manage that?"
     "They're escaped convicts or something," explained Athena.  "He
rescued them off an asteroid.  The details in Apollo's message were
sketchy."
     "Why do you blame Starbuck?  Maybe Boomer or your brother is
responsible for bringing them back."
     Athena tilted her head, eying the other young woman.  "Do you really
doubt that it's Starbuck who came up with the idea?"
     "Nope."
     "My point exactly."

********************

Chapter Nineteen: "I think we have another battle coming up"

     C.O.R.A said, "It's a real shame."
     "What is?" inquired Starbuck.
     "The way you're carrying on," she told him.
     "I was under the impression I was carrying on admirably."
     "As an example," said C.O.R.A, "let me mention the manner in which
you're behaving at this very moment."
     "Ah, I get your drift, girlfriend."
     He had cut the speed of his Recon Viper One and dropped back to see
how the shuttle that Princess Alpha was piloting fared at this moment.
     "Here you have a ship," said the computer, "free to dance among the
stars and you're dawdling back here like---"
     "We're escorting these ships back to the battlestar," he reminded
her.  "That means we keep an eye on them.  This isn't a race."
     "From what I've seen of that hussy, she can more than take care of
herself."
     "You're letting Alpha's front fool you," the lieutenant said. 
"Inside she's not so tough."
     "And my, isn't that a lovely name?  W on't that sound just marvelous
after you're married?  How do you do?  My name's Alpha Starbuck and---"
     "Whoa, there, C.O.R.A," he broke in.  "I don't intend to get hitched
to Alpha or anyone else.  Simply because I take an interest in a young
lady doesn't mean I want to marry her."
     "I know all about the kind of interest you take in young women, hon. 
I've scanned your dossier."
     "Then you should know what a nice cleancut fellow I am."  He took
out a fumarello and lit it.  "Women think of me as the protector of their
best interests."
     "Felgercarb!"
     "Wilker sure built some strange stuff into you," observed Starbuck. 
"I'm starting to think you're jealous."
     "Uh-oh!" exclaimed the computer.
     "What?"
     "I'm getting something on my scanners," C.O.R.A. replied.
     "Cylons?"
     "Afraid so, hon," she answered ruefully.  "Three more of them,
coming right this way."

********************

     Alpha had been trying to concentrate on piloting the shuttle, not
wanting to think about what things would be like aboard the battlestar
Galactica.  She was aware of Starbuck's viper out there keeping an eye on
her.
     She was really going to have to sort out her feelings.
     "...don't you?"
     Alpha realized that Assault, who was sitting in the seat beside her,
had asked her a question.  "What's that?"
     "I was saying we're doing the right thing," the bearded man
repeated.
     "I agree."
     "But I get the feeling that you haven't made up your mind."
     "I think I have."
     "How long have you known him?"
     "Starbuck?  Not very long at all."
     Assault scratched his beard.  "I suspected as much, but I got the
impression the two of you had grown pretty close."
     "It's been known to happen.  You meet somebody, you feel as though
you've been friends all along."
     "Tough for me to judge," he said.  "You know how it was in the
prison.  You grew up with the same people, the same Troopers, even. 
There wasn't much chance to meet anyone new."
     "You'll sure have a chance to meet new people on the Galactica,"
Alpha told him.  "Every kind of people."
     Nodding, Assault said, "You've always had more spunk than most of
us.  Leaving prison when you were just a kid, going out on your own."
     "At seventeen yahrens old I wasn't exactly a kid," Alpha said. 
"After my mother died, I knew that I had to get out and away."
     "Sounds like you're going to stay with the Galactica."
     "I am," she answered.  "Until the next time I get restless, at
least."
     He stared out the window for a moment.  "Aren't you the least bit
scared?"
     Alpha said, "A little uneasy, I'll admit.  I'm not exactly what
you'd call a proper lady and I don't want to be taken for some kind of
backwater bumpkin."
     Assault chuckled.  "That's one thing I'm sure you won't be taken
for," he assured her.
     "We'll see."
     "Oh, I know what's bothering you.  You reckon that when Starbuck
gets a look at you alongside the ladies of the Galactica, he'll decide
you're not sophisticated enough."
     "Something like that."
     Assault scratched his wiskers again.  "Of course, I haven't seen any
of those ladies myself but I think you'll measure up okay."
     "Thank you," she said.
     "It's going to be different, living on a gigantic spacecraft that's
always on the move."
     "Won't be as cramped as prison," she said.  "And eventually,
according to what Captain Apollo said, the Galactica will reach its
destination."
     "Earth," murmured Assault.  "What a bunch of daggit drivel."
     "I believe in it, same as their commander does."
     "Why in bloody Hades would you accept a fairy tale like that as
true?"
     "Mostly because the Mad Hatter believed in it so intensely.  My
mother said he was always carrying on about---"
     "Hold on to your hats kids," came Starbuck's voice out of the
talkbox on the control panel.  "Or better yet, man your defense guns."
     "What is it?" asked Alpha.
     "Reliable sources, namely my trusty computer C.O.R.A, inform me that
there are more Cylons on the way."
     "That sounds bad," said Alpha.
     "Things could be worse."
     "How?"
     After a micron he answered, "I can't think of any examples right
now.  So get your guns ready, keep a weather eye out and cross your
fingers.  Looks like we got another battle coming up."

********************

     Starbuck asked, "You see 'em yet, Apollo?"
     "Yep, here they come now," answered the captain.  "I count three
ships."
     "That's not so bad.  They could've sent half a dozen the next time
around."
     "I have a feeling that's what they'll try next."
     "I'm going to hang back here and watch out for the shuttles," said
Starbuck into his talkmike.
     "Those crates are armed," said Apollo, "but I don't think they're
any match for Cylon fighters."
     "We'll have to make do with what we've got."
     "Talk to you soon, chum.  Got to greet our visitors."
     Starbuck took a drag on his fumarello and squinted out his cockpit
window.
     Far ahead in the darkness of space he could just make out the two
Vipers going into action against the oncoming Cylon ships.
     He picked up his talkmike once again, and contacted Alpha.  "I've
got visual contact with our friends now," he told her.  "Three fighters,
like the ones we tangled with earlier."
     "Do you think Apollo and Boomer can hold them off?"
     "I'll bet on it, but...Holy Frack!  Apollo just took out one of
'em!"
     The exploding Cylon fighter made an enormous splash of red and
yellow across the blackness.
     "Be jolly good if they'd frag the other two," came Alpha's voice. 
"Because when we checked our laser guns, Starbuck, we've just now
discovered that we have only one of them functioning."
     "What?" Didn't anybody bother to look the guns over before we left?"
     "We took our leave, if you recall, in something of a hurry."
     "Yeah, I remember."
     "We've got Forger tinkering with the guns," she told him.  "He's
handy with gadgets."
     "Handy isn't good enough right now; he's got to be fast."
     "I can dodge pretty well," Alpha said.  "So maybe---"
     "Hold on!  A Cylon's gotten past Boomer and he's coming our way."
     "At you?"
     "I think," said Starbuck, "he's got you in mind, kid."

********************

     "Frack! Felgercarb and shit!" remarked Lieutenant Boomer.
     He executed a loop to get on the tail of the Cylon fighter that had
managed to outfox him.  It was now racing toward the first shuttle ship.
     "She's a tough lady," said Boomer, "but I don't think she can outfly
that Cylon.  Not in a clunky crate like that."
     He increased his speed, narrowing the distance between him and the
fighter.  Then Boomer became aware of Starbuck.
     Starbuck was diving straight at the Clyon.  He was racing across
space at nearly max speed.  There was no way he could avoid colliding
with the Cylon.
     "Starbuck," yelled Boomer into his helmet mike, "pull up you idiot!
You'll smash!"
     Starbuck was hunched in the pilot seat of Recon Viper One, fumarello
clenched in his teeth.  "Don't let me down, C.O.R.A. my love."
     "One of these days," she chided, "your daredevil ways are going to
be the death of you."
     "Got a hunch today ain't the day, love."
     "The odds in favor of our smashing right into this Cylon craft
and---"
     "In my wild youth we used to play a similar game in uniflyers," he
informed the computer as the rushed down toward the fighter that was
stalking Alpha. "We called the game Chicken."
     "A chidish male---"
     "Stand by C.O.R.A"
     If the Cylon didn't flinch and dodge out of Starbuck's path, there
was going to be an impressive collision.

********************

     "Bloody fool!" said Assault.  "He's done for."
     "Starbuck knows what he's doing," insisted Alpha as she strived to
maneuver the rattletrap shuttle away from the pursuing Cylon fighter.
     "What he's doing is committing suicide, said the bearded man.
     The Cylon gave in at the last instant, pulling up and flashing away
from the shuttle.
     Starbuck's viper whizzed across the path of the slow-moving shuttle.
     Lieutenant Boomer's viper came roaring over.
     Before the Cylon could complete its turn, Boomer's guns sliced
across the blackness.
     The lethal arrows of orange light dug into the belly of the Cylon
fighter.  The ship began vibrating, shiving and shuttering, and then it
blew up.
     Alpha sighed.  "He saved us!" she said.
     "Everybody intact aboard?" inquired Starbuck.
     "We are.  What about you?"
     "Fit as a fiddle and ready to rocket," he answered.
     "I didn't realize how suicidal you were, but thanks."
     "Don't start sounding like my beloved C.O.R.A," Starbuck warned. 
"It ain't suicide when you know exactly what you're doing.  And in case
our late Cylon chum hadn't buzzed off, I still could've swerved and tried
another trick or two."
     "I appreciate your interest," she said.
     "You may not have noticed," added Starbuck, "but Apollo took care of
the remaining Cylon while Boomer and I were playing games here. 
Therefore, kiddo, we ought to have a safe and sound journey home.

********************

Chapter Twenty:  Home Again

     "By your command."
     "Speak," Baltar said waving his hand.
     "Imperious Leader has received our message and is sending one of his
own  direct from the homeworld.  He wishes to speak to you directly."
     "Then I shall speak with him," he rose from his throne chair.  The
human traitor walked at a brisk pace into the next room, where the
communications array was.  With a calm, collected expression, he flicked
on one of the console switches.
     In an instant, Imperious Leader's face filled the screen.
     "By your command," Baltar bowed slightly and kept his tone
deferential.
     "We can dispense with formalities, Baltar," the Cylon ruler sounded
thoroughly displeased, "I want a full status report, now."
     Baltar sucked in his breath, "Three of our fighters were dispatched
to the Destructon quadrant to investigate a mysterious transmission
beamed at Aquaria.  When that patrol failed to return, We dispatched
three more.  We now presume that all six fighters have been destroyed."
     "And you are certain the Galactica's warriors are responsible for
it?" the Leader's question was pointed.  "What is the status of the
Galactica and her fleet?" the Leader resumed.
     "The sector our patrols were investigating have human settlements on
the planetoids, apparently a forgotten part of the Colonial Frontier. 
Where there are humans, there will no doubt be the Galactica.  I am
preparing to deal with her  as soon as you and I are through talking,"
Baltar spoke with renewed confidence. "We are ready to launch an assault
that will guarantee the Galactica's destruction."
     "You indicated as much in your message." Imperious Leader said with
a hint of skepticism. "I would like to hear of this plan."
     "I have spent the last two days, arming our squadrons for a special
mission," he said, "Our fighters are being packed with solonite, and will
be instructed to ram the Galactica.  The combination of that and the
solonite in the fighters will set-off a chain reaction of explosions that
will destroy the Galactica without the need for any sustained battle."
     There was a brief silence from the other end of the transmission.
     "Baltar," the Leader said, "You are aware that by loading your
fighters with solonite, you are all but insuring that they will be
totally powerless in direct engagements with the Galactica's vipers."
     "I'm aware of that," Baltar admitted, "That's why I'm loading as
many fighters as I can.  The greater volume will insure that some will
break-through the defense lines and be able to ram the Galactica."
     Imperious Leader was silent again.
     "After what has gone on in the last two sectans," Baltar resumed, "I
do not believe that a conventional assault will be sufficient, and," he
paused briefly, "As the only combat-ready basestar in this quadrant, I
don't believe it wise to engage the Galactica in a direct ship-to-ship
confrontation at this time."
     "Agreed," the Cylon ruler seemed to sigh in resignation, "Your plan
has my approval.  Carry it out. Inform me of how events develop when you
can."
     Baltar allowed himself a faint grin, "By your command."
     The human traitor again bowed slightly as the Cylon ruler's face
faded from the screen.
     With the transmission ended, Baltar turned to Lucifer, and grinned
more broadly.
     "Launch all fighters, Lucifer."
     It took Lucifer all his strength to reply, "By your command," as he
then turned and glided out of the room as fast as his circuits would
allow.

********************

     Starbuck said, "C.O.R.A, I want to thank you for a most interesting
jaunt."  He unfastened his safety gear.
     "I guess this is goodbye," said the computer in a disheartened
voice.
     "I'm sure we'll be flying together again someday," Starbuck glanced
out at the Galactica docking area.  The pit crew moved toward his
just-landed ship.
     "I...I'm going to miss you much."
     "I'll miss you too, love." Popping the canopy, he climbed out and
jumped to the ground.
     C.O.R.A made a sad, sighing sound.
     Starbuck stretched, scratched, dug out a fresh fumarello.
     "I'm amazed," said Apollo, walking to Starbuck's side.
     "By what?  The sheer artistry of my flying?"
     "Your incredible luck."
     "Luck?  Hades!  That was skill, pure skill."  The moved over to the
area where the shuttles would be docking.
     "I will admit you handled that new Viper damn well."
     "I sure did," agreed Starbuck, pausing to ignite his fumarello.
     "Think she'll fit in?"
     The first shuttle was docking now.
     "Princess Alpa?  Sure, she can handle just about anything life
tosses at her."
     "She's fond of you, you know."
     "What woman isn't?" Starbuck frowned and turned serious for a
moment.  "I know.  I feel responsible for her and...I like her too."
     "What's the catch, bud?"
     "I'm just not ready to limit myself to one woman."
     "I think she knows that, old buddy."
     Starbuck nodded.  "Well, let's go over and play reception
committee," he suggested.

********************

     Athena said, "Which one do you think it is?"
     Cassiopeia said, "Why limit ourselves to one?  It could be a whole
bunch."
     The two young women were standing at the edge of the group that was
watching the shuttles dock and unload their passengers.
     "That brown-haired girl there?" suggested Athena.
     "Nope."  Cassiopeia gave a negative shake of her head. "She's
too...um...ample."
     "You're right.  Starbuck prefers blondes."
     "Depends on the blonde, dear."
     "How about the redhead?"
     "Too skinny," decided Cassiopeia.  "Starbuck does sometimes show an
interest in underweight women, as you know, but---"
     "There he is, pushing his way up to the disembark doors of that
shuttle."
     "Yes, and he's getting rid of his fumarello."
     "That means," concluded Athena, "that he's getting ready to greet
someone special."
     "That big man with the beard?  That can't be right."
     "Well, they are shaking hands---very cordially."
     "I know Starbuck.  He didn't elbow his way up there just to pass out
a genial handshake."
     "You're right.  Look at him now," said Athena with a disapproving
edge to her voice.
     "He's giving a real bearhug to that filthy almond-eyed girl."
     "Good Kobol!  She can't be more than twenty yahrens---if she's that
old!"
     "Slightly taller than he is, too."
     "He always said he wanted a woman he could look up to. I never
thought he meant it literally."
     "Look at the way she's returning his embrace," pointed out
Cassiopeia. "She's clearly fond of him."
     "Do you think that what she's wearing is the latest fashion here in
the Alpha Quadrant?"
     "I hope not.  Those trousers of hers are only a few steps from being
rags."
     "I don't think much of her hair," observed Athena.  "Too long and
unkempt."
     "Color's pretty, though.  Sort of a sandy blonde."
     "Maybe that's not her real color.  She could be a dyed socialator."
Athena sighed, shaking her head.  "Do you think the new Viper has
possibly affected his brain?"
     "He was already showing lapses in taste before he took off," said
Cassiopeia.  "When he took you to dinner, I knew something was going on
wrong."
     "I'm not talking about his lapses in taste before he left," said
Athena.  "Even though his being seen with you indicates some kind of
extreme mental---"
     "Look, we better not quarrel.  What's obviously called for is a
united front."
     Athena nodded.  "You're absolutely right, Cass," she agreed.  "We
must unite against a common enemy."
     "Once we've taken care of her, then we can get back to our
own...oops!  Watch out, Starbuck seems to be bringing her right over here
to us!"
     "Ladies," said Starbuck, grinning as he guided Alpha up to the two
of them.  "I wan't you to meet a good friend of mine.  I'm sure you're
all going to get along just swell."
     "Of course we will," smiled Athena.
     "Oh, I can see we're going to become fast friends," smiled
Cassiopeia.

********************

     Alpha was sitting on the edge of the bunk, legs dangling.  Her left
eye was slightly narrowed and she was taking in the cabin she'd been
assigned to.  "Homier than a prison cell," she decided, "if not a lot
bigger."
     Standing, she explored the room.  She opened a door and observed,
"Jolly good plumbing facilities, too."
     Pausing, she studied her image in the mirror on the inside of the
door.
     She was going to have to shape up some.  She did look a little wild
and unkempt, compared to the women she'd seen so far on the Galactica.
     "First thing to do is wash up, then try on these new clothes they
gave me."
     Someone was tapping on the door of her quarters.
     "Come right in, love," she invited.
     "You have to activate the door, kiddo."
     "Dreadfully sorry, I forgot."  She scooted over to tap the right
botton.  "Now come in."
     Starbuck, decked out in a fresh warrior uniform, stood on the
threshold.  He clutched a bunch of crimson flowers in his right hand; in
his left was a smoldering fumarello.  "For you my love," he said, handing
in the bouquet and then coming into the room himself.
     "They're pretty," she said as she took the flowers.
     "Finest bio-synthetic blooms to be found aboard the entire
battlestar," he assured her.
     Smiling, Alpha placed them on a small table.  "Flowers always
brighten up a room," she said.  "Sit someplace, why don't you?"
     "Don't mind if I do."  He settled into one of the cabin's two
chairs.  "How do you like our flying juggernaut?"
     "It's...okay."
     "It takes time to get used to it."
     "You remember our agreement." She sat again on the edge of the bunk. 
"I'm only trying this out.  I can take off anytime."
     "But of course.  After all, it's a battlestar, not a prison."
     "I know, the plumbing's too good for that," she said.  "So just make
sure nobody junks that shuttle I flew in on.  I may want to use it again
someday."
     He grinned.  "This evening, or what passes for evening hereabouts,
we're going to have a sort of celebration in the Rejuvenation Center," he
informed her.  "To welcome all you pilgrims to the Fleet.  Music,
dancing, libations and good, clean family fun."
     Alpha shrugged.  "Sounds lovely, but...do you really want me to go?"
     "Why not?"
     She answered.  "Those two birds you introduced me to.  Athena and
Cassiopeia...I didn't miss the way they were inspecting me from head to
toe."
     "Jealousy, my pet, clean and easy."
     "No, they're both affectionate towards you."  She brushed at her
long beach sand-blonde hair.  "They were obviously wondering why in Hades
you were showing an interest in some wild savage from the astrum-end of
space."
     "I've seen a few savages in my days," Starbuck said.  "You aren't
one, Alpha."
     "There's another problem," the young woman said.  "When you told
them my full name, one of them could hardly keep from turning her nose up
at me and the other one just looked stunned."
     "Well, you should drop the princess line, not being royalty and
all," he pointed out.  "And naming yourself after the quadrant, well,
that's hardly original either."
     "I should have a proper name, I agree," she told him with
conviction.  "My mother never knew our family house.  That's one of the
reasons I was anxious to reach Aquaria, to find out who I really am."
     "You're not going to be able to do that, not with the Cylons in
control of the planet," he said.  "Tell you what...Why don't we just pick
a new name for you?  One you can use until you find out the true and
authentic one."
     "I suppose I could do that," Alpha said.  "Any suggestions?"
     "How about Caeljumbe?  It's ancient Pisconese for 'sky queen."
     "Caeljumbe?  Sounds like a name one of those cat beings on Ebem
might go by," she said, "and a nasty cat being at that."
     "It was only a suggestion."
     "Do you like the sound of Caeljumbe?"
     "Yep," he said.  "It's got a certain lilt."
     "I'll take it under consideration," she said finally.  "But I'm not
promising anything."
     "Feel free to pick one of your own," Starbuck stood up.  "Got to
take my leave.  But if you don't mind, I'll drop by this evening to
escort you to the festivities."
     "You don't have to."
     "I know I don't have to," he said.  "I want to."
     "Okay then, it's a date."  Crossing the room, she gave him a quick
but careful kiss on the cheek.  "Thanks again for everthing."

********************

     Apollo paced his father's quarters as he spoke.  "So that's the
story of Destructon and its prison," he concluded.
     "Incredible," said Colonel Tigh, who sat in a chair across from
Adama.  "Going on like that, generation after generation, cut off from
everything."
     "In a way," observed the commander, who sat with his chin resting on
steepled fingers, "their situation parallels ours."
     "But we have a mission and a purpose."
     "They thought they did, too," said Adama.
     "You're not suggesting we're as deluded as they are?"
     "Absolutely not." Commander Adama smiled.  "Only that I noted some
similarities.  At any rate, we shall do everything in our power to make
them welcome in our Fleet."
     Apollo sat down.  "There's also the problem of those who chose to
stay behind on Destructon."
     "Yes.  If the Cylons learn o fthem," said the colonel, "they're
doomed."
     Adama asked his son.  "Do they have anything in the way of
defenses?"
     "Some antiquated fighter ships, a few shuttles similar to the ones
you saw earlier.  The ships are armed with laser weapons, but not one is
a match for a Cylon fighter."
     "We better make sure the Cylons decidethis particarly quadrant isn't
worth the trouble."
     "Lessons like that," pointed out the colonel, "are difficult to
teach."
     "We'll find a way."
     Apollo asked, "You're expecting them to send more fighters out here,
aren't you?"
     "I am, yes."
     Tigh leaned forward in his chair.  "I anticipate a new Cylon attack,
too," he said.  "In light of that, do you think it's wise to hold the
welcoming party this evening?"
     Commander Adama said, "Yes, since it will make our new guests feel
at home and it will be good for the morale of our people."
     "If there's an attack---"
     "---we'll be ready," Adama assured him.

********************

Chapter Twenty-One: A Spoiled Celebration

     As the Battlestar Galactica and her fleet of 220 ships left the
Destructon Sector behind her, Colonel Tigh gave his report as Adama
entered the bridge.
     "All scanners reporting clear at this time." 
     "Good," the Galactica commander sat down.
     "All squadrons are now on Yellow Alert status," Tigh added, "But
Commander, there are a lot of pilots and other warriors who've went
through a lot a few days earlier.  I would strongly recommend that those
who've gone the longest without rest, be granted permission to attend the
welcoming party for our new travelers this evening."
     The commander nodded, "Probably a good idea, Colonel.  But just to
be on the safe side, do it for only the top five percent on the list."
     "Boomer will be glad to hear that," Tigh said, "He came up to me
after he landed, and reminded me that he'd been at the top for almost a
sectan."
     "He's a good warrior.  He deserves it." 

********************

     Starbuck took his fumarello from between his lips.  "Wow!" he
remarked.
     Smiling tentatively, Alpha asked him, "Do I look okay?"
     He nodded affirmatively, moving into her room from the corridor. 
"You did something to your hair."
     "I washed and cut it."
     Starbuck scrutinized her new hairstyle.  What it lacked in length it
made up for in volume as it expanded outward from her head.
     "This is called a bouffant," she continued, indicating her puffy do.
"I went through a lot of suffering to get this look, can-sized hair
rollers and all that rubbish.  My mother told me that many Colonial women
wore their hair this way back when our original sinners were first
sentenced to Destructon."
     "Looking at you makes me wish they still did."  Starbuck found
himself wondering how a "bouffant" would look on Athena or Cassiopeia. 
"You're using makeup."
     Her almond eyes were dramatic now, featuring mascara used heavily to
produce spiked lashes.  Her skin was pale, probably from a translucent
foundation.  Her lips were pale and glittering with no dark shades
showing.
     "Do you think it's too much? I devoted more centons to my face than
I'm sure most women care to devote today."
     "No, it's just right."  He held his fumarello at arm's length before
sniffing the air.  "Perfume, too?"
     "Some cerulean body spray  with beyrl accretions on the flask's
bottom. Supposed to smell like wild grapes, but I've never sniffed any
wild grapes that smelled this musky.  Not too strong, is it?"
     "It's very delicate, so don't worry."
     Taking a step back from him, she held her arms at her side.  "Now,
about these clothes, Starbuck? Just standard issue, but do they look okay
and fit right?"
     "Yep," he assured her, "yep, they fit.  Just fine."
     "Why are you looking at me in that dippy, sort of cockeyed way?"
     The lieutenant shook his head.  "You're...really...pretty?"
     "Hadn't you noticed that up till now?"
     "Oh, I noticed, all right...but you didn't look like this out on the
asteroids and planetoids, kid."
     "That's because I was wearing my work clothes," she explained. 
"But...Hades Hole...once I got a look at the competition around here, I
realized I better upgrade my image."
     "You've damn well succeeded, love."
     "I don't want you to feel responsible for me in any way," Alpha
said.  "But there are still people aboard this...battlestar...Athena and
Cass to name just two...who are going to think of me as your little
sidekick.  For a while, anyhow.  So I want to make sure you're not
embarrassed by me."
     "You can lay those feelings to rest, Alpha."
     "And I've decided I will be Caeljumbe," she said.  "For now at
least."
     Grinning, he offered her his arm.  "Caeljumbe," he invited, "allow
me to escort you to the celebration."

********************

     As he walked down the corridor from the launch bay, Apollo suddenly
noticed Athena and an enthusiastic Boxey, who was followed as always by
his beloved robot daggit Muffit coming in the other direction.
     "Hi Dad," Boxey smiled his widest grin at him. "Glad you're home."
     "Glad to be home," Apollo smiled back and ran his hand through his
son's hair, "Where are you three off to?"
     "The Rejuvenation Center," Athena said, "I've been granted leave to
attend the welcoming party. I'm going to spend that time taking on Boxey
at every game in sight."
     "The way he plays, you'll need all the luck you can get," her
brother said.
     "Can you come along Dad?" Boxey asked, "You can play the winner."
     His father shook his head, "I'm on Yellow Alert status, now, Boxey. 
I'm afraid I'll have to pass this time."  Apollo leaned down and patted
the robot daggit, "Look after them, will you Muffy?"
     The robot let out a friendly yelp and wagged its tail.
     "And another thing," he whispered slyly, "Don't bark if you sniff
out more mushies.  He eats too many of them as it is."
     "See you later," Athena resumed walking and waved at them.
     "See you," Apollo waved back as Boxey and Muffit followed them.

********************

     The Galactica's Rejuvenation Center was located deep in the interior
of the warship.  Designed to provide a different form of leisure activity
than the Officer's Club did, it boasted more than twelve different types
of computer and table games.  Not only was it popular with all the
children and civilians aboard the Galactica, many off-duty warriors could
often be found here, using the games as a means of improving reflex
action and hand coordination.
     Lt. Jolly was among the first to notice Alpha as she made her
appearance there.  Smoothing his moustache, he came ambling across the
Center to Starbuck.  "Great to see you back safe and sound, Starbuck," he
said, his eyes on the new and improved version of Alpha as he extended
his hand to the lieutenant.
     Starbuck shook hands.  "Like you to meet a friend of mine.  Al...
Caeljumbe, this is the one and only Lt. Jolly.  Jolly, Caeljumbe."
     Jolly, much to Starbuck's surprise, clicked his boothed heels,
bowed, took Alpha's right hand and planted a kiss on it.  "Charmed," he
said.
     "So am I, Lieutenant," she said, smiling.  "I've heard a great deal
about you since I arrived."
     "You have?"
     Starbuck said, "Mostly dire warnings, I imagine."
     "Some of the girls dropped in to say hello," explained Alpha. 
"Naturally, they got around to mentioning their favorite men aboard the
Galactica."
     Chuckling, Lieutenant Jolly asked, "And I was one of 'em, right?"
     "Your name just about headed the list."
     "Fancy that," said Jolly, chuckling further.
     "It's hard to believe, isn't it?" Starbuck glanced around the
lounge.
     He was less than pleased to notice that several other  young
warriors had detached themselves from their groups to come heading this
way.
     "If we should get separated, Caeljumbe," he said, "you have but to
let out a yell and I'll come to the rescue."
     Jolly told her, "Why, you're in no danger here."
     Four more warriors converged on them.

********************

     "Well Boxey, you did it to me again," Athena said with only the
faintest trace of exasperation as the little boy's shot across the table
landed in the empty pocket at her end.
     Boxey came over to her end of the table and perched himself on the
side, "Yeah, isn't this fun, Athena?"
     "That's a pretty easy thing to say when you're winning, Boxey," a
voice from the other end of the room by the doorway said.
     Athena looked up in surprise and saw Boomer come up to them, "What
are you doing here, Boomer?  Apollo said that Blue Squadron was now on
Yellow Alert."
     The warrior's tone was relaxed, as he knelt alongside of where Boxey
was seated, "Well, even Blue Squadron pilots get time off once in a
while.  Once I reminded Colonel Tigh that I'd been at the top of the list
for a sectan, that finally got things in motion."
     "Now that's the mark of someone who's really been out in space too
long," Athena smirked, "Throwing your weight around with the executive
officer."
     "Hey, it paid off, didn't it?  Now all I have to do for the next
twenty-four centars is relax and bid welcome to the newcomers from
Destructon."
     "Want to play compartment billyarks with me?" Boxey asked him, "I'm
pretty good."
     "Oh?" he looked at the little boy quizzically, then shot a glance at
Athena who shook her head in indication of the futility she'd been going
through.
     "You're on," Boomer said as Muffit crawled on top of the table from
the other side and came over to where the three were congregated.
     "You'll be sorry, Boomer," a well-built warrior wearing the insignia
of a Colonial security guard smiled and shook a finger of warning as he
headed for the door to leave.
     "Come on Kulanda," Boomer replied good-naturedly to the man he had
recently been partnered with in the new Triad league that had been
organized.  "A Colonial Security guard is never much of a challenge for a
boy of six."
     "At least we do better than a Council Security goon would, "Sergeant
Kulanda grinned as he stepped out.
     "He's got a point," Boomer admitted, "A boy of three could handle a
guy like Reese in half a micron."
     "Agreed," Athena nodded.
     "Still want to play?" Boxey asked.
     Absolutely," Boomer nodded, "And if you beat me, I got a surprise
for you."
     "Mushies," there was no surprise in Boxey's voice as the robot
settled next to him.
     "How's a guy supposed to keep a secret around here?" Boomer lifted
an eyebrow in amazement.
     "I just trained him to sniff out mushies," he looked down at his pet
with pride.
     "Is there nothing he can't do?" the warrior said as he got to his
feet, "Okay, set them up and let's see if you can live up to your past
glories."
     Just then, the relaxed atmosphere of the Rejuvenation Center was
shattered by the sound of the Red-Alert klaxon.  The warning light above
the compartment door cast its eerie glow throughout the room.
     "Oh boy," Boomer's shoulders sagged in disappointment, "So much for
the stabilized situation."

********************

     Starbuck hurried toward the exit. Alpha caught him by the arm. 
"What in bloody Hades is it this time?"
     "A Cylon raid would be my guess."
     She lowered her head.  "I was afraid of that," she said. "It's my
fault for being stupid enough to try to contact my original sinner's home
planet."
     "Hey, we've been having trouble with the Cylons for quite a spell
now," he said.  "Long before you came along."
     "Yes, but you know what I mean."
     "We'll have a nice long talk soon as I get back from the wars," he
promised.
     She tightened his grip on his arm.  "Can't I do something?"
     "Stick here and keep all our new arrivals from panicking," he
suggested.  "A Cylon raid on their first day here can't make 'em feel any
too chipper."
     "You got it."  She kissed him on the cheek.  "Hurry back."
     "Such is my intention."  He left her, left the big Rejuvenation
Center.
     Lieutenant Jolly fell in beside him and they moved along a corridor
together.  "What's the story?"
     "Cylons are probably attacking us and---"
     "No, I mean with you and Caeljumbe," said the moustached lieutenant
impatiently.  "I noticed that leavetaking just now.  She likes you."
     "Sure, that's why she spent the evening allowing oafs like you to
flop all over her."
     "Aw, it's not who they chichat with at the party that's important,"
Jolly told him, "it's who they go home with.  Or is that whom?"
     "Either way it's felgercarb."
     "If I get back from this mission," said Jolly, "I intend to try to
cut you off.  Just thought I'd be fair and warn you."
     "If you get back?" Starbuck shook his head.  "Quit talking like
that, Jolly, or we're all dead."

********************

Chapter Twenty-Two: Secure The Battlestar!

     Commander Adama entered the Galactica bridge.  "Report."
     The wail of warning alarms and the slamming of metal doors echoed
all around.
     When the commander reached a scanner screen, Colonel Tigh said,
"They appear to be mounting a major attack."
     Adama, brows knit, watched the blips of light moving ominously
across the screen.  "One thousand Cylon fighters," he observed.
     "And they're coming right for us," said Tigh.  "Not heading for
Destructon or the other asteroids out there."
     "They may not know there's any human life on the asteroids," the
commander said.  "If we stop them, it's possible they'll never find out."
     "The Cylons certainly know we're here."
     "That was, quite probably, inevitable."
     "And we have that young woman who tried to contact Aquaria to thank
for this mess," said the colonel as he watched the screen.  "They tell me
she's aboard Galactica now."
     "Yes.  I met her when our new guests arrived.  "Is Blue Squadron
ready to launch?"
     "A few microns yet," said Tigh.  "Many of the warrior pilots are
still at the party, so it's taking them longer to man their ships."
     "I'm still glad we had the celebration."
     "I wasn't implying any criticism, Commander, simply stating facts."
     Adama nodded.  "The young lady, Princess Alpha she calls herself,
piloted one of the shuttles," he said.  "I don't believe she deliberately
tried to contact the Cylons."
     "You're taking her on face value?"
     "No," said the commander.  "Both Starbuck and my son vouch for her. 
And that counts for something."
     "Didn't this same young woman try to murder Starbuck?"
     "Not according to the lieutenant's report," said Adama.  "There was
simply a misunderstanding during which Lieutenant Starbuck happened to
get hit, quite accidentally, on the head."
     "I haven't met the young woman," said Colonel Tigh.  "I'm assuming,
however, that she's attractive."
     "Very much so," said Adama.  "But I've never found, Colonel, that a
pretty woman is any less trustworthy than a plain one."
     "I don't imagine Lieutenant Starbuck has either."
     The Red Alert klaxon wailed with even greater intensity, and some of
the bridge personnel who were attached to reserve squadrons got to their
feet and dashed off the bridge.
     "No telling what we could be in for. Colonel Tigh, prepare the
Galactica for heavy attack."
     The executive officer nodded and moved off to another part of the
bridge.
     Adama then turned to Omega.  "Secure all compartments."
     The bridge officer flicked several switches.  One by one, all the
doors to each room and compartment aboard the great battlestar began to
slide shut.

********************
     The tempo of activity in the launch bays picked up as the remaining
pilots arrived and got into their ships.  Within microns, all those who
had arrived were away.
     The darkly attractive Jenny, who was the lead supervisor for the
ground-crew attached to Blue Squadron frowned as the last vipers took
off.  During all that time, she hadn't seen anything of Boomer.
     As she saw the compartment doors slide shut, she knew that no matter
where he was, the pilot she regarded as one of the best aboard the
Galactica was going to miss the battle.
     She hoped his absence wouldn't be as costly as she feared it might
be.

********************
     
     Starbuck shot a quick glance over to where Recon Viper One was
sitting, then climbed into his regular Viper.  "Gonna miss you,
C.O.R.A.," he said.  "But I'm gonna need my guns this time out."
     He strapped himself in, shut the cockpit and began checking out his
instruments.
     "Gonna miss that extra speed too."

********************

     "Will you have to go?" there was an obvious air of disappointment in
Boxey's voice as he looked up at a tense Boomer.
     "Technically, I don't have to," Boomer said as the sound of the
first Red Alert continued to wail throughout the Rejuvenation Center, 
"Still, I think I'd better put off my fun for another time."
     Just then, the sound of the alert became a constant staccato
blaring, and slowly, Boomer saw the compartment door start to
automatically slide shut.
     "Boomer," Alpha said.  "What does that mean?"
     "Means they're expecting a major attack force! They'll need me!" he
blurted as he dashed toward the door and tried to reach it before it
closed.  The other people in the room trailed him with great concern.
     Too late, the door closed just an instant before Boomer's
outstretched hand could stop it.
     The dark-skinned warrior sucked in his breath and turned around to
face the crowd that had gathered behind him.
     "Okay everybody," he said calmly and motioned his hands downward,
"Just go back to what you were doing.  The party's not over until this
attack is."
     Slowly, he made his way back to the other end of the room where
Athena and Boxey had remained.
     "Why did they close the doors?" the little boy asked without too
much concern.
     "That's precisely what I'd like to know, Athena," Alpha said with a
hard edge in her voice.
     His aunt placed a protective hand on Boxey's shoulder and glanced
back and forth between him and Alpha,  "Well, so that if one part of the
Galactica gets hit, it won't affect the rest of the ship."
     "That prevents the oxygen from escaping if the hull is pierced,"
Boomer said and then uneasily looked about the room.
     "I have a feeling this isn't the first time something like this has
happened to you guys," said Alpha.  "Can this flying castle stand up to
anything like that?"
     "I hope so," said Boomer. 

********************

Chapter Twenty-Three: Kamikaze attack!

     "Okay," Apollo sucked in his breath as he led Blue Squadron,
"Contact will be right now."
     The massive number of Cylon fighters then appeared.  They came in
closely packed columns that stretched to more than six fighters wide in
each row.
     Blue Squadron then went to maximum turbos to begin the
counterattack.   
     Immediately, Apollo opened fire and picked off the first three in
the echelon.
     He tensed as he expected the blue streaks of return fire to come,
and kept his hand on his control stick, preparing for the roll maneuver
he'd have to go into once the Cylon ships opened fire.
     But nothing happened.
     Apollo frowned and lined up two more shots.  With still no return
fire, they both hit their targets with no difficulty.
     Behind him, Greenbean lined up behind a formation of three ships,
and had them all destroyed in less than a five-micron span.
     He too, was greeted with no return fire.  "This sure is easy," he
spoke up.
     "A little too easy," Starbuck radioed back, "They're not fighting
back.  What the frack are they up to?"
     "I have no idea," Apollo was baffled, "They aren't even moving at
their top speed.  I guess we should take advantage of it though."

********************

     Aboard the lead Cylon fighter, there was no concern at all from the
command pilot as virtually all of the ships to his left and right were
destroyed with no return shots.
     "Follow the programmed coordinates," he said to the other two
pilots, "Ignore the Colonial vipers."
     "By your command," the first one responded.
     It mattered not to the command pilot's robot mind that he had been
programmed for a mission where he would deliberately destroy himself. 
     To him, the overriding part of his programming, the destruction of
humanity, was all that counted, and if he should destroy himself while
doing so, that was of no consequence.  Other Cylons would be ready to
take his place long after he was gone. His craft, and another alongside
it, plowed ahead and managed to get by the first line of viper defense.

********************

     "There's still too many of them," the female Colonial warrior named
Brie looked at her screen and saw even more fighters emerge, "Where's
that help?"
     "Right behind you," a familiar voice that she recognized as Jolly
came through her helmet.
     "Glad you made it out of the Rejuvenation Center in time, Jolly,"
Starbuck replied, "Right now, take your pick.  Base level one of the
Academy simulator was more difficult than this."
     Jolly opened fire and like the others, was able to pick off three
ships in less than five microns.

********************

     "Commander," Tigh came up to Adama, "All squadrons are engaged, but
there's something weird going on out there.  We're outnumbered, but
blowing them out of the skies.  They don't seem to be fighting back."
     The commander raised an eyebrow in puzzlement.
     "Cylon fighters are notorious for their bad marksmanship," he said,
"But for them not to open fire at all doesn't make sense, unless..." he
trailed off.
     "Unless what?" the executive officer asked, "Suicide runs?"
     "Yes, it could very well be.  Omega!" he barked, "Bring all laser
turrets to full power!"

********************

     Apollo and Starbuck had pursued the lead echelon of fighters, which
now numbered four.  Together, they took care of the second and fourth
fighters from that group, but the first and third were able to roar past
them and get by their line of fire.
     "Galactica, this is Blue Leader," Apollo radioed with more than a
note of concern, "Two from the first wave have broken through."
     "Our laser turrets will take care of them," he heard his father's
calm voice reply.
     But before Apollo decided to turn back and face the next wave, his
nagging concern caused him to scan the two Cylon ships.
     The reading suddenly caused his blood to run cold.
     "Father, no wonder those ships act like they don't even see
us---they don't want us!  They're packed with solonite!" he blurted,
"That's what they're up to!  It's a suicide mission.  They're trying to
destroy the Galactica!"
     Apollo then hit his turbo and began a frantic effort to catch up
with the two fighters before they reached the Galactica.
     In the distance, he could see them draw closer to the battlestar,
and it seemed more than likely that he wasn't going to get them in time.

********************

     "Jolly?  Greenbean?" Starbuck called, "Three got past me; they're on
a direct heading toward the heart of the Fleet. You two are closest to
them.  Can you get them before they're on top of the us?"
     "Won't be easy," the fat sergeant muttered with concern.  "I think
they dumped most of their fuel when they realized they were on a one-way
mission.  It's making it hard to keep up with them!"
     "Jolly, my scanner shows them headed for the Agroship and the two
agro support ships!" this from Greenbean, "I'm going to afterburners now
and see if I can overtake them," he then paused and added, "Wouldn't want
to see you left with nothing to eat."
     "I'll pretend I didn't hear that, Greenbean!" Jolly snapped, "I'll
follow you on afterburners myself."

********************

     Jolly was feeling an edge of frustration as he and Greenbean
struggled to catch up to the three Cylon fighters that were now bearing
down fast on the giant Agroship, which served as the chief source of the
Fleet's food supply.  The Agroship was flanked on either side by a
support ship, which conducted special experimental harvesting operation
and also stored excess seed and other essentials needed for growing crops
in space.
     Come on, he thought as the fighters started to come back into his
range.  Not much longer!
     He saw the fighters on the flanks peel off, with each of them headed
for one of the support ships.  Jolly kept him aim concentrated on the
lead one, which was still bearing down on the main Agroship, which from
the sergeant's standpoint, was the more important one to deal with.
     "Jolly!" Greenbean was no longer in the mood for making morbid
jokes, "They're firing on the support ships!  No way can I get to the one
on the starboard side in time!"
     "Just do what you can with the port one!"  Jolly saw the lead one
opening fire on the main Agroship.  A blast went off from the mid-section
and he knew right away the ship had suffered widespread damage.  He knew
now that he had at most just a few microns or else there would be no way
of saving the Agroship from destruction.
     As Jolly finally saw the fighter come on his attack computer he was
briefly blinded by a massive explosion to his right.  He didn't need to
hear Greenbean's report that the starboard support ship was now gone.
     The lead fighter got off one more shot on the Agroship before Jolly
finally saw it blink on the center of his attack computer.  He pressed
the fire button rapidly and at last, the fighter was destroyed.
     "Jolly!" Greenbean shouted, "Get that one off the starboard flank
before he can head back on the main ship!"
     Jolly looked to his left and saw that Greenbean still wasn't in
close enough range to take care of the fighter that was now scoring hit
after hit on the portside support ship.  It was fast becoming clear to
Jolly that this ship, like it's identical sister, was doomed.
     It was time to make a tactical decision.
     "Greenbean, hook up with me.  We need to make sure that nothing else
hits that big bird."
     Reluctantly, the blonde ensign disengaged from his pursuit of the
fighter attacking the remaining supply ship and rendezvoused back with
Jolly.  Now that they were together, they assumed a protective screen
above the Agroship and each one could now train their sights on the two
remaining fighters from a more advantageous position.
     An instant after the last of the two fighters was finally destroyed,
Jolly and Greenbean saw the remaining support ship finally give up its
fight to live.
     Both of them knew this part of the battle was over, but that it had
clearly come at a great cost.

********************

     Adama felt his body tense when he heard his son's last message.  A
normal suicide run was one thing, but a fighter packed with solonite
carried implications that were far more ominous.
     "Positive shield, now," he still kept his voice under control.
     "Commander," Tigh's voice was subdued as he listened in on his
headset for the full report on what had happened. "Incoming damage
report, sir."
     "What happened?" Adama tensed up even more.
     The executive officer took a breath.  "You aren't going to like it. 
As if things aren't bad enough already, our two agro support ships have
been destroyed."
     The commander let out a disgusted groan, "And the main Agroship?"
     "It survived, but sustained heavy damage," Tigh listened in,
"Captain Donaloeu is waiting for a full report from Chief Operations
Officer, Jotridus.  Probably won't have it for another centon or two."
     Adama made his way back to the navigation and board and shook his
head in disgust.  "If our ability to feed the people of this Fleet is
suddenly put at risk, then our ability to travel through space suddenly
becomes meaningless."
     "Adama--" Tigh started then stopped as he heard new information come
over his headset. "Report coming in from Captain Donaloeu now.  The
airlock for Agro Dome #1 was lost.  That's...the main dome for the
Fleet's basic crops."
     "Well, that's repairable," Adama grunted, "Inform Captain Donaloeu
that Master-Tech Shaddrack and his  maintenance team will be over as soon
as we can stand down from Red Alert."

********************

     The two Cylon fighters broke off from their single arc and assumed
different headings.
     The first one went into a delicate banking maneuver and now aimed
itself squarely at the Galactica's bridge.
     "One micron to impact coordinates," the first pilot intoned.
     The command pilot's robotic mind almost felt a sense of what the
human mind would call a deep sense of satisfaction.

********************

     "Good Kobol, the bastard's going for the bridge!" the panic rose in
Apollo's voice as both he and Brie made one last attempt to take the
first one out.
     The two of them both opened fire with all the rapidity they could
muster.
     "Got him locked in my sight," Blue Leader clenched his teeth as the
fighter began to flash on his target computer.
     The Cylon craft was almost on top of the bridge as Apollo hit the
fire button as hard as he could.

********************

     The Cylon fighter was only twenty feet from crashing into the hull
of the battlestar when Apollo's shot finally got the craft.
     In getting it, Apollo had prevented the fighter from using its
lethal cargo of solonite to cause an unholy chain reaction that would
have destroyed everyone and everything aboard the bridge.
     But because the Cylon fighter exploded so close to the ship, it
still produced a powerful shock wave that slammed full force against the
bridge.
     In an instant, the shield protecting the bridge crumbled, and the
shockwave bounced through the entire area.
     All about, people were thrown from their positions, some sent
crashing into the machinery, others hurled clear across the room like rag
dolls.
     Towards the center, Tigh was tossed off the upper center of the
bridge and hurled under the console on the next level.  Amazingly, the
only injury the executive officer sustained was a bruise to his right
hand.
     Omega was thrown backward as sparks erupted from his console and the
entire bridge system shorted out.
     Not far from where Tigh had been standing, Adama had grabbed on to
the railing separating the upper level from the lower one and came
through the first blast unhurt.
     But then came the secondary blast.
     It roared with an intensity greater than thunder. In an instant,
portions of the ceiling bulkhead began to cave in.
     Before anyone had time to react, a large section of the bulkhead
suddenly crashed down on to the center of the bridge.  Right where Adama
had tried to hastily shield himself.

********************

     Apollo saw the explosion just above the bridge, and could see the
secondary explosions erupt as a result of the shock wave.
     Right away, he felt a sick sensation in his heart and knew the
situation was very bad.
     "Galactica bridge, this is Apollo," he signaled with a great deal of
tension, "Come in."
     There was no response.
     "Galactica bridge, this is Apollo," his voice rose in pitch,
"Answer!"
     Still nothing.
     Frustrated, Apollo banged his hand against the console and looked
about, "Brie, where'd that other Cylon go?"
     "It took another track, there's no way we can get to it," a note of
alarm had entered her voice, "Starbuck, can you get it before it reaches
the Galactica?"
     "I've got it in pursuit," Starbuck replied.  The sense of ease he'd
felt earlier when the ships didn't fire back was gone now.  Inside, he
felt more tense than he'd ever felt in any previous combat engagement.
     He fired at the lumbering Cylon craft and---missed!  The target
remained in front of him, but it was hovering too high on his attack
computer, making a clean shot impossible.
     Just ahead, loomed the imposing spectacle of the Galactica's port
landing bay.
     Starbuck's heart was pounding so fast, he almost felt it would
explode right through his uniform.
     "Boomer," he whispered under his breath, "Where are you when I need
you?"
     He fired again, this time more in desperation.  As he had already
known it would, the shot missed.  The Cylon fighter was still too high on
the attack computer.
     "Galactica bridge," he radioed, "He's headed for the port landing
bay.  I can't get him in time."
     "Try anything, Starbuck!" Apollo shouted back, "Don't let him get
there."
     "Nothing...I can do to stop him!" for the first time in his life,
there was a sense of regret and defeat in Starbuck's voice. "Frack,
flegercarb and shit!"
     The three pilots could only watch in mute horror as the Cylon
fighter streaked toward the landing bay as if on an ordinary landing
approach.

********************

     "Five microns to impact," the lead Cylon pilot intoned with that
same sense of satisfaction that his counterpart in the first fighter had
felt.
     The fighter entered the landing bay on a perfectly straight arc. 
     And then, as soon as the craft was completely inside, the pilot's
last act was to hit his thruster on an upward heading, straight into the
landing bay's ceiling.
     The explosion from the fighter's impact with the landing bay was
potent, in and of itself, but it was the type of impact that the
Galactica had long been used to.  For hundreds of yahrens, she had taken
suicide hits to her landing bay, and had always been able to weather them
with minimal short-term damage.
     But as the solonite tanks inside the fighter ruptured, they produced
their deadly chain reaction, and set off a second explosion, the likes of
which the great battlestar had not known in more than five hundred
yahrens of service.
     An enormous fire erupted down the entire length of the landing bay
and rapidly spread into zones that were ordinarily safe from conventional
attack.
     The Main Energizer that supplied power for the entire ship was
located two compartments in back of the landing bay.  Though shielded
from the roar of the fire, the shock wave shattered the room from
beginning to end and reduced the shimmering piece of equipment to a
smoldering ruin.
     The Boraton Mist Control Center, which served as the main base of
operations and distribution for the Galactica's fire team, was also done
in by the same explosion.  The four firefighters stationed there to
monitor all firefighting activity, as well as control pressure of the
boraton to all the hoses throughout the ship, all died in a barrage of
fire before having a chance to realize what had happened.
     To one side, the main wall of the fire was carried by another
detonation, which sent the firestorm on two separate curves, widing
through a series of vents and corridors deep into the battlestar's
interior.
     Directly in the path of the explosive power, was the Rejuvenation
Center.

********************

Chapter Twenty-Four: Trapped!

     Alpha had been sitting at a small table in the now quiet
Rejuvenation Center.  Her arm rested on the slick tabletop, close to her
untouched glass of ambrosa.
     Across from her, nervously drumming his stubby fingers on the table,
sat Assault.  "Blimey, what a welcome," he remarked.
     She noticed that Boomer, Athena and Boxey had remained seated at the
back end of the game table, each of them feeling somewhat too
apprehensive to resume playing.
     "It's called realilty," the young woman said, smiling faintly. 
"Might as well learn to deal with it right now."
     "I know," said the bearded man.  "Trouble is, I really would hate to
get killed on my first day of freedom."
     "Boomer told me," she said, "this battlestar is built to withstand a
lot.  They've been through plenty of attacks and survived every damn
one."
     "So far."  Assault glanced around the room.
     The former prisoners, side-by-side with the off-duty warriors, were
seated at various gaming tables, hunched and silent for the most part.
     "Think of it this way," Alpha said.  "You're still better off than
you were on Destructon."
     "The difference is I didn't have any Cylons to worry about."
     "That didn't mean they couldn't have attacked at any time and wiped
out everybody on the asteroid."
     "Fortunately, I lived most of my life in blissful ignorance of that
possibility."  Assault scratched his beard.
     "And you don't have Kraspo to annoy you anymore."
     "Funny about him," said Assault.  "Deciding to stay on Destructon
and throw his lot in with the others."
     "He's stubborn as Hades," she said.  A trait like that ought to come
in handy for a farmer."
     "I keep wondering if---"
     There was an enormous boom.  They all felt the room shake and
vibrate for several seconds when the diminishing shock wave of the bridge
explosions came their way.

********************

     "That sounded pretty serious," a note of alarm entered Athena's
voice, while her nephew somewhat impulsively threw his arms around her.
     "Yeah," Boomer felt only a raging tide of frustration at not being
able to take part in the battle.
     And then, without warning, the power of the landing bay explosions
hit them.
     The ones closer to the vents took the worst of the explosions. Some
suffered instantaneous burns from the flash fire that momentarily belched
through the openings.  Others were tossed into the air and felt their
bodies slammed against pieces of game equipment.
     Boomer grabbed both Athena and Boxey and instantly shielded them on
the other side of the game table.  Their bodies were pelted by a large
amount of light debris before the explosion ended as abruptly as it had
began.
     "You okay?" he quickly glanced down at the two of them.
     Athena dimly nodded.
     As Boomer scrambled to his feet, a thick acrid smoke filled the
room.
     "I thought we were too far inside for a laser hit," Athena was in a
state of near-shock.
     "We are," the warrior gave his first quick look around, "That was
something else."
     And then, one final small explosion came from the back end of the
Rejuvenation Center.
     "Frack Almighty!" Boomer stumbled forward as he tried to begin a
hasty evaluation of the situation.

********************

     From outside, Apollo, Starbuck and Brie had the best view of what
the lone hit had done to the great battlestar.  The first explosion in
the landing bay had been bad enough to watch, but nothing had prepared
them for the horrible sight of the second massive explosion caused by the
solonite-laden assassin.
     "Oh my God! What have those monsters done?" Starbuck whispered in
horror at the sight.  He hadn't seen a battlestar look so bad since he'd
witnessed the destruction of the Atlantia during the Holocaust.
     An anguished Apollo again hit his radio, "Apollo calling Commander
Adama, come in!"
     There was still no response.
     "Come in!" he was almost pleading.
     "Hey Apollo," Jolly's voice cut in, "The three of you get back here
and help us.  We've still got about three dozen more Cylon fighters
headed this way."
     Apollo barely comprehended him, "I've got to find out what's
happened there.  Galactica bridge, this is Apollo!"
     "Apollo, Jolly's right," Starbuck retorted, "There isn't time to
find out.  We've got to make sure no more of those incoming Cylons get
through.  One more hit, and the Galactica's gone forever."
     When there was no response, an exasperated Starbuck finally signaled
the third viper in the area, "You coming with me, Brie?"
     She could barely take her eyes off the horrible sight of the
Galactica, but she immediately nodded, "You bet, Starbuck."
     They went to their turbos and pulled away from the burning
battlestar.
     A moment later, a reluctant Apollo hit his turbo and went back to
join the main battle.

********************

Chapter Twenty-Five: To save a battlestar

     The bridge was a disaster area, with two more consoles erupting in a
shower of sparks.  It took a while before anyone who'd been relatively
unhurt by the explosions felt safe enough to move about.  Those who did
not sustain any physical injury at all wandered around the bridge in
shock.
     Tigh pushed aside some debris and made his way back to the center of
the bridge.  He froze in horror when he saw the prone form of Adama,
unmoving on the floor, a column of debris lying on top of him.
     With anguish, he reached the commander and opened his eyes. They
were clearly dilated.
     The executive officer looked up and saw that a concerned Omega had
also arrived on the upper level and was also bent over Adama's
unconscious form.
     "Get Dr. Salik up here, fast!" Tigh ordered.  The bridge officer
nodded and quickly moved away.
     "The Lords help us," he whispered as he took Adama's weak pulse,
"The Lords help us all."
     He then let go of Adama's hand and tried to shake himself out of his
stunned stupor.  The responsibilities now rested with him. He was now
Acting Commander, and he had to start performing forcefully right now.
     "I want a team over here right now  to cut away this bulkhead!" he
barked at several other technicians who'd gotten to their feet.
     "It'll take some time to locate the right tools, Colonel," one of
them gently protested.
     "I don't care, just do it!" he raised his voice to a shout.
     Tigh then felt his body deflate considerably.  Raising a ruckus
didn't make him feel any easier or more secure.
     Calmly, he went back to where Adama lay and again felt his weak
pulse.  Determined not to leave his commander's side for the moment.

********************

     By the time the vipers of Starbuck, Brie and Apollo had rejoined the
main battle group, they saw that the columns of Cylon fighters were
rapidly dwindling.
     "Probably about two dozen of 'em left," Apollo struggled to get some
of his warrior's professionalism back, "Don't let a single one survive."
     "There still hasn't been one that's returned fire," Greenbean could
scarcely believe it, "It looks as though all of them are packed with
solonite."
     "And more than a hundred all told," Brie said.
     "Gotta be Baltar.  He's the only one I know who's mean enough to
come up with something like that," there was a distinctly bitter edge in
Starbuck's voice as he took aim and got two more fighters.
     As the number of fighters became fewer and fewer, it suddenly became
more difficult to lock on to the remaining ones.
     "Eight more left," Jolly reported, "Shouldn't be much longer."
     Yeah, but now they're not packed together anymore.  This is where it
got tricky with the other two," Brie responded to her fellow warrior.
     "All squadrons pull back," Apollo barked, "Make sure there's a wall
between here and the Galactica that those remaining fighters couldn't
possibly get past."

********************

     Tigh found himself unable to leave Adama's side as some semblance of
order tried to return to the shattered bridge.  He'd always regarded
Adama as a great tower of strength, and found it impossible to reconcile
that image with the man who lay sprawled across the floor.
     Suddenly, he noticed Adama stir, ever so slightly.
     "Adama?" he leaned forward.
     The commander's eyes opened only a crack, "Tigh," his voice was a
thick and nearly inaudible whisper.
     "I'm here Adama," his long-time friend tried to sound reassuring.
     "Casualties?" the commander barely croaked the word out.
     The executive officer shook his head, "I don't know."
     "How--bad--so--far?" the next words came out with even more
difficulty.
     "Very," Tigh let out a deflated sigh, "Apollo was right.  Those
Cylon fighters were packed with solonite."
     "New...low...even for...them."
     "We put out all the fires here on the bridge with boraton mist,"
Tigh said, "But as for the rest of the ship, I just can't tell yet."
     "Colonel Tigh!" Omega blurted from the other side of the bridge,
"Deep scan has been knocked out.  Internal communications too."
     Tigh lowered his head and softly repeated the news for Adama, "We've
lost deep scan."
     Omega made his way around the center to where Tigh was, "We've
set-up an emergency radio system.  Right now, we can talk to our pilots,
but that's it."
     "How many enemy ships are left out there?"
     "Less than ten, according to Apollo.  Right now, he thinks his
squadron can keep them from getting through."
     "He'd better be right," the executive officer grunted.  He then took
a breath and slowly raised his voice to a level of authority, "See what
you can do about internal communications.  And get those scanners
operational as soon as possible."
     "I don't think you heard me, Colonel," Omega protested, "The
scanners are gone, completely destroyed."
     "Let...Vipers...be our eyes," Adama managed to speak.
     Tigh nodded.  He was letting himself be rattled more than he could
allow, since he knew he should have thought of that first.
     "Inform the pilots," he said to Omega, "As soon as they finish off
the rest of those Cylons, keep at least two squadrons flying."
     "Yes sir," the bridge officer nodded and left.
     Tigh looked down at Adama's limp form and thought for a moment of
the cruel ironies.  All his life, he'd dreamed of having his own chance
at commanding a battlestar, and for the first time, the opportunity was
being presented to him, but under a distasteful circumstance.
     He was forced to take charge with the Galactica battered as she'd
never been battered before, and on the verge of self-destructing
altogether.
     If by some miracle he came through this, he vowed that he'd never
daydream about command responsibilities again.

********************

     "Down to seven left," Jolly said as he took care of another Cylon
fighter.
     "Correction, Jolly: five left," Starbuck chimed as two more fell
victim to his lasers.
     "Make sure there's at least one other viper with you," Apollo spoke
up, "Single ship-to-ship combat won't be enough of a guarantee."
     Starbuck seemed to notice a double-edge to his friend's words, and
speculated that the last remark was directed squarely at him.
     He decided to hold his tongue as he and Greenbean linked up and
chased down two more of the remaining ships.
     One-by-one, with almost agonizing slowness, the remaining fighters
were blasted away.
     All except one final fighter.
     "It's in your sector, Jolly," Apollo barked, "Get it."
     "Affirmative," the fat warrior hit his turbo and sized the target
up.
     But then, before he could thumb the fire button, the enemy fighter
suddenly went into an abrupt banking maneuver and veered itself directly
at Jolly's viper.
     The collision warning sounded in Jolly's cockpit and he had no
choice but to hit his own turbo and go into an evasive roll.
     The Cylon fighter safely flew past.
     "Frack, he pulled some fancy maneuver on me, he's gotten through!"
Jolly shouted.
     "Somebody pick it up!" Apollo also shouted, with just a note of
terror entering his voice.
     "I'm on him," Brie could barely keep the terror she felt herself
submerged as she hit her turbo.
     The fighter came within her field of vision, streaking toward the
Galactica.
     "He's going for the starboard landing bay," she clenched her teeth.
     "This is it, Brie," Apollo's voice was at its most grave, "If he
gets through, the Galactica's done for."
     "Will you shut the frack up and let me concentrate?" she angrily
shouted back.
     Apollo was taken aback by her insubordination, but dutifully fell
silent.
     A hush came over the other pilots as they watched Brie's viper
pursue the last Cylon fighter.
     Closer, they drew toward the undamaged starboard landing bay.

********************

     "Forty microns to impact," the lead Cylon pilot intoned.
     And once again, a sense of programmed satisfaction that his mission
was going to be accomplished began to take hold. 

********************

     Brie's eyes were locked on to her attack computer.  As had been the
case with Starbuck's pursuit of the other fighter, the Cylon craft
hovered just a little too high.
     "Come on," she whispered, "Come on."
     As the landing bay loomed closer, she decided that it had come down
to one last tactic.  Adjust her nose a fraction of a degree up.  It had
to be an infinitesimal adjustment, because overcompensating too much
would put the fighter too low for her line of fire.
     She applied her finger to the control stick with all the
delicateness of a surgeon performing an operation.
     After what seemed like an eternity, the image of the Cylon fighter
on her attack computer dropped down ever so slightly.
     And then, the image blinked, indicating that the target was locked.

********************

     "Thirty microns to impact," the lead pilot again intoned.
     In front of him, the first Cylon pilot placed his robotic hand on
the control stick, preparing for the micron when he'd take the craft on
its abrupt upward trajectory once it was inside the landing bay.

********************

     In an instant, Brie pressed the fire button and held her breath.
     Twenty five microns short of the landing bay, the laser shots
blasted the Cylon fighter to infinity.  The shock wave of the explosion
dissipated harmlessly, and caused no further damage to the battlestar.
     As Brie slowly exhaled, her helmet was filled with the sound of all
the other pilots exhaling as well.
     "Way to go Brie!" Greenbean said with more than a hint of pride.
     "Thanks," she tried not to sound drained.
     Starbuck still couldn't take his eye off the burning landing bay. 
In the face of Brie's last-second success at destroying the third
fighter, he couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't taken all the risks he
could have to prevent the other fighter from escaping his pursuit.
     He thought back to that time when he had been captured by Baltar and
brought aboard the traitor's basestar as a prisoner.  The first words he
had spoken to Baltar had been filled with anger.  A desire to give his
life for just one shot at the traitor.
     As he saw the eerie orange glow of fire in the landing bay
strengthen, that desire raged through him again.
     "Okay," Apollo took charge again, "That takes care of the Cylons. 
But we're not out of the woods yet.  Blue and Red Squadrons, prepare to
land in the starboard bay.  All other squadrons stay on watch in case
more of them come back."
     As Apollo drew his ship toward the burning battlestar, he could only
wonder what kind of horrors had already taken place, and whether or not
the damage that had already been inflicted on the ship would finish the
job for the Cylons.

********************

Chapter Twenty-Six: Serious Damage Control

     The man in charge of the Galactica's fire and damage-control team
was a middle-aged, gray-haired man named Bennann.  A seasoned expert with
over thirty yahrens of service aboard several different battlestars, it
was his job to be ready with a team of firefighters after every combat
engagement, and do all he could to get the Galactica back to working
condition as rapidly as possible.
     Bennann had seen a lot in his thirty yahrens, but as he got his team
in place two compartments from the port landing bay, nothing prepared him
for the intensity of the conflagration that now thundered throughout the
corridor.
     He had already discovered to his horror that the worst possible
contingency for his men had come into play.  The Boraton Mist Control
Center, located in one of the adjacent compartments to the port landing
bay had been totally destroyed by the blast, and with it, his Chief
Deputy Firefighter and three others who'd been stationed there.  And he
knew that if he had not left the center to check on the damage from the
hit to the bridge, he would have been killed too.
     With his main base for firefighting activities rendered inoperable,
he was now dependant on less reliable secondary storage units from
elsewhere in the compartment.
     "Push the boraton pressure to the max!" he shouted at Hardall, the
firefighter at the pump station controlling the hoses.
     Hardall shook his head, "Sorry sir, but with the Control Center
destroyed, we're unable to get any more pressure than what we're getting
now."
     One of the lead firefighters who'd been spraying his hose all over
the forward end of the compartment to seemingly no avail, suddenly backed
away.
     "I don't like the looks of this," he lifted his helmet and said to
Bennann, "Right now, I don't think we have any hope of getting it under
control."
     "We'll have to figure a way out," the Chief Firefighter retorted
with no sympathy, "If we don't, this thing'll expand into the entire area
and take out the rest of the energizers and all the solonite tanks.  When
that happens, we're all dead.  So the sooner you stop complaining and get
back to that hose, the better."
     With nothing else to say, the lead firefighter shrugged in dejection
and went back to his hose.
     As Bennann continued to keep track of the too-slow progress, another
firefighter came up to him and tugged his shoulder.
     "Sir," he said, "Colonel Tigh needs an update on the situation."
     "Tell him he'll get one in a few centons," Bennann said above the
roar of the flames.  "I'll try to get to the bridge a little later."
     He looked back at the forward end and suddenly heard one of the lead
firefighter shout, "Watch it, get down!"
     Bennann and the rest of the firefighers instinctively ducked and a
brief sheet of flame passed over their heads.
     As the Chief Firefighter cautiously got back to his feet, he idly
wondered if the ship would already be gone before he could keep his
appointment.

********************
 
     In the Rejuvenation Center, Alpha said in a commanding voice, 
"Let's everybody calm down."
     "We're all going to die," wailed someone in the smoky room.
     "You will if you don't shut up," she warned him.  "I'll see to it
myself.  Where's Lieutenant Boomer?"

********************

     A light cloud of noxious smoke continued to fill the room as Boomer
worked his way to the main entrance.  Around him, some of the more
seriously injured were moaning in pain.
     He picked up the telecom that tied-in to the internal communications
network throughout the ship.  He heard only silence.  He punched some of
the buttons on the wall unit, but there was still nothing.  The continued
silence meant that the unit was damaged beyond all repair.
     At the other end of the room, Athena helped attend to an injured
Destructon prisoner who'd been hit by a flying piece of debris.  Blood
trickled from a wound above his eye.
     Instantly, Boxey volunteered to help and applied a small strip of
cloth that he'd torn from the game table, to the wound.
     "Hold it tighter, until the bleeding stops," his aunt gently
motioned.
     Athena then got to her feet and took a look around the room.  Except
for the game table at her end, which had been more solidly  constructed
than any other in the room, all the other tables had been upended and
tossed about.  There wasn't much about the room recognizable from the
cheerful center of recreation and entertainment It had been only moments
before.

********************

     "Forger?" Alpha asked.  "Were in Hades are you?"
     "Haven't seen the bloke," volunteered Adultress.
     "He was here," said Alpha with certainty.  "Forger!  Get your
ancient astrum in gear!"
     "Have you no respect for the dying, child?" croaked a feeble voice.
     Alpha pointed.  "There he is, ducked under that table.  Assault,
drag him over here."
     "Air," gasped the little man.  "Smoke. Choking me.  I'm expiring for
lack of air."
     "Relax and you'll use up less of what we've got left," she advised
as Assault escorted him to her.
     "Just let me make my peace with the Lords of Kobol and pass away
quietly."

********************

     Outside the Rejuvenation Center, the fire had already quickly spread
throughout the corridor.  The walls on almost all sides were smothered in
flames.
     At the far end, where the flames were not as thick, one of the other
compartment doors slowly opened and seven warriors who'd taken refuge in
a storage area for spare uniforms when the attack had began stumbling
out.  Six of them immediately headed for the turbo-lift ten feet away
that would get them off the fire deck, but the seventh, an imposing,
muscular member of the Colonial Security unit named Sergeant Kulanda, who
had earlier left the Rejuvenation Center after losing two games to Boxey,
frantically motioned them to stop.
     "There are people trapped in the Rejuvenation Center!" he shouted,
"We've got to get that door open there, and let them out before it's too
late!"
     "Kulanda, have you lost your fracking mind?" Sergeant Breel, another
member of the Security unit shouted back, "There isn't time for that. 
We've got to get off this deck!"
     "Don't you understand, I'd just come out of there!" Kulanda
retorted, "Boomer's in there, and so are the Commander's daughter and
grandson! To say nothing of the Destructon people!"
     "You can't make it!"
     "I'm gonna try!  Hold the lift as long as you can!"
     Breel watched in horror as Kulanda stumbled down the smoke and flame
filled corridor.  The other warriors frantically tugged at him and
motioned him to shut the lift doors, but he turned around and barked,
"I'm giving him twenty microns to wise up, turn around and come back!"
     Sure enough, twenty microns later, Kulanda was stumbling back toward
the lift.  His uniform was blackened in several spots, and scorch and
burn marks lined his face.
     "It's no use," he said in dejection, "I can't get to them."
     Breel dragged his fellow guard in and closed the turbo-lift doors
shut.

********************

     "Galactica bridge this is Blue Leader," Apollo's voice was more
subdued than it had been for a while, "Port landing bay is destroyed. 
Blue and Red Squadrons will land in the starboard bay.  The other
squadrons will stay out and keep watch."
     "Affirmative, Apollo," Tigh said, "We'll keep two squadrons out on a
rotating basis.  You're cleared to land."
     "Colonel," Apollo hesitated slightly before asking his next
question, "What can you tell me about my father?"
     The executive officer was stoic, "Dr. Salik took him to the Life
Station a few centons ago.  You'll get better information from him."
     Apollo skipped a beat before continuing, "How's the situation
inside?"
     "It's still too vague," he said, "I should get a full report from
Bennann in a little bit.  But it doesn't look good, Apollo."
     "I figured as much.  As soon as I'm aboard, I'll do what I can to
help."
     "We'll need it," there was no flippancy in Tigh's voice as he shut
his headset off.
     Just then, Omega came up to the executive officer carrying a hastily
drawn-up clipboard.
     "Colonel," he said, "Here's the report from Bennann.  Main Energizer
number one destroyed.  Number two now operating at maximum capacity. 
Boraton Mist Control Center destroyed."
     Tigh noticeably winced, "You mean they have to use nothing but the
secondary units to tap into the main boraton storage tanks?"
     "I'm afraid so," Omega nodded and continued, "The fire's out of
control in Alpha Deck, Beta and Gamma sections.  All personnel have been
evacuated from the fire areas, except for those in the Rejuvenation
Center.  It's been cut-off."
     "How many in there?" Tigh asked.
     "About twenty," Omega's expression became more grave before he went
on, "Some of our new arrivals along with Boomer, Athena, and the
commander's grandson."
     The executive officer was clearly stunned by this news.  For a
moment, he was unable to say anything in response.
     "Okay Omega," he finally said, "Keep me posted."
     As Tigh made his way over to another console and saw the indication
that Apollo's viper was aboard, the thought of having to talk to him
again suddenly made him feel very sick.

********************

     After giving up on the telecom for the last time, Boomer slowly made
his way back to the other end of the room where Athena and Boxey were
still comforting the prisoner with the wounded eye.
     "What did they say, Boomer?" Alpha asked.  "What in bloomin' Hades
happened?"
     "'Fraid we're not gonna find out for a long time, lady," Boomer
shook his head, "Telecom's dead and gone."
     "And that's not all," Athena said grimly, "The first aid supplies
have been destroyed too."
     "Great," Boomer rolled his eyes, "What else could possibly happen?"
     Just then, the sound of Muffit barking caught everybody's attention.
     "Good Kobol," Assault cried, "something like that, maybe?"
     The daggit was in front of the main door, and an even thicker smoke
was starting to creep underneath into the room.
     "I had to ask," Boomer shook his head in disbelief, "Athena, break
out the life masks."
     She shook her head and flipped him a battered and totally useless
mask, "I checked them too.  They were also destroyed with the first aid
supplies."
     Boomer fingered it for a brief instant and then tossed it aside in
disgust.
     "Felgercarb," he whispered, "There's got to be something we can do."
     But at the moment, no ideas were coming to him.
     He cast another glance at the door.  The smoke coming in was getting
more and more thick, and he knew that he had very little time to think of
something.

********************

     "Look out!"  Bennann shouted again over the roar of the flames,
"It's going to flare again.  Get down!"
     Once again, Bennann, Hardall and the two firefighters up front, were
forced to duck in order to escape being consumed by another belch of
flame.
     Hardall, the firefighter at the pump station shook his head, "There
might as well be a fracking timetable for those flare-ups.  We're not
making any headway at all."
     "You're right," the Chief Firefighter conceded, "Get another unit
ready to fall back on the next station.  I'm not sure how much longer we
can keep manning this one."
     Bennann took another look at the blaze.  For a brief instant, his
mind went back thirty yahrens to his days at the Colonial Academy when
he'd first learned his trade, and how his aged instructor had kept him up
for nights on end with intricate descriptions of how a fire could break
out aboard a warship.  Nothing that wise old instructor had taught him
was of any use to the situation that now confronted him.  The paradox of
it all made him feel like laughing. 
     "I've got to send Tigh another report," he said, "I'll be back here
as soon as I can."
     "The fire may beat you to it," Stone said.
     As he walked away, Jorda finally let out that mirthless chuckle he'd
been suppressing.

********************

     Cautiously, Boomer ran his hand over the main door.
     "Forget about going out through here," he said to Athena, "Even if
the fire wasn't as bad as I know it is out there, the automatic lock's in
place and there's no point trying to open it."
     "So what do we do?" she asked.
     Boomer drew himself up and spoke to the crowd of twenty, "Okay,
listen up.  Everyone over to the other side of the compartment.  Move."
     Athena calmly took hold of another injured prisoner and guided him
over to the other side.  The other non-injured followed her lead and did
the same.
     As soon as everyone had moved over, Boomer began a critical
examination of the rear door that led to the Rejuvenation Center's main
storage compartment.
     "Dammit to Hades!" he grunted, "The impact must have twisted the
bulkhead just enough to jam the door."
     Athena uneasily looked behind her as the smoke continued to seep in,
"What are the chances of the other door holding?"
     Boomer shook his head, "About as much as the Cylons throwing me a
birthday party."
     "So what do we do then?"
     "You don't do anything, Athena," Alpha chimed in. 
     "Huh?"
     Alpha turned to Forger.  "How many drinks tonight?"
     Forger didn't meet her eyes.  "Oh, a few, child."
     "Hands.  Hold 'em out."
     Reluctantly, Forger obliged.  His gnarled hands fluttered like
insects in the wind.  "Well, maybe a half dozen.  Now I think of it.
     "You're still the best gadget man we've got," she said.  "So we'll
go with you, Forger."  She jerked a thumb at the bulkhead.  "This damn
door is jammed."
     "So the brave lieutenant said, milady."
     "You're going to open it so we can get into the storage compartment
and close it behind us."
     "Good idea," Boomer said.  "There should be some more lifemasks in
there."
     "Oh, that's a mighty tough task," protested Forger, shivering. 
"Especially for a man on the brink of death."
     "You'll go over the brink, with a push from me, if you don't quit
stalling."  She grabbed him by the neck, hustled him to the bulkhead. 
"Take a look, study it, and then figure out how it can be opened."
     "If it can," Athena said.
     "Any door can be opened, Miss Athena."  Forger straightened up,
rubbed his fingertips together.  "All it takes is...um...time."

********************

Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Family Medical Drama

     One-by-one, the vipers from Blue and Red Squadrons landed in the
undamaged starboard landing bay.  When they all emerged from their
cockpits, few of them were in much of a mood for talking to each other.
     As Brie slowly walked toward the turbo-lift, Starbuck caught up to
her.
     "Brie," he said, "I didn't get a chance to say it out there, but
thanks again for saving our lives.  That was one great piece of precision
flying."
     "Just did what I had to do," she said.
     "Yeah," there was a slightly dejected note in Starbuck's voice, "If
I had a little more of your discipline, maybe I would have gotten that
other one."
     "It's not your fault," Brie instantly sounded reassuring as they
walked toward the turbo-lift, "Wouldn't Boomer normally have been flying
alongside you?"
     "He was at the celebration, probably wound up stuck in the Officers
Club or the Rejuvenation Center," Starbuck said, "But that's still no
excuse for me."
     "Forget it," she said quickly, "The sooner we get focused on saving
this ship, the better."
     The normally brash lieutenant allowed himself a smile, "You're
right." As the turbo-lift doors opened, Starbuck smiled and patted her on
the shoulder in a sign of fraternal respect for a fellow warrior.
     "Glad to have you on my team."

********************

     Apollo had gone straight to the Life Station after landing his
viper.  When he reached the center, he found a scene that could only be
described as chaotic.  There were well over two dozen people being
treated for varying degrees of burns, while another group that had been
injured by blast debris had been placed in life pods.
     He saw Cassiopeia treating one of the burn victims and went up to
her.
     "Where is he?" he demanded in a low tone.
     The blonde med-tech uneasily pointed to the other end of the room,
where Dr. Salik was hunched over another life pod.  In it, Apollo could
see his father, lying with several tubes attached to his body.
     He carefully made his way through all the din of activity over to
Salik, who was talking reassuringly to Adama.
     "The...Galactica?" the commander's voice was still a thick, croaking
whisper.
     "Took some casualties and some damage," the middle-aged doctor spoke
casually, "But nothing that can't be repaired, including you.  Now in the
meantime, you get some rest."
     Salik then rose and promptly led Apollo away from Adama's life pod.
     "Tigh said you were coming, so I'll give it to you straight," the
doctor's voice was less reassuring than it had been when he'd been
speaking to Adama, "A piece of the ceiling bulkhead fell on top of him,
and some shrapnel went right into his abdomen."
     "How is he now?"
     "The life pod has him stabilized, but he's very weak.  As soon as
this whole situation is over, I'm going to have to operate because
there's a piece of shrapnel lodged between the right atrium of his heart
and the right lung wall.  It's very bad."
     "Then operate on him now," Apollo said as if it were the most
obvious thing in the world, but Salik drew himself up to a posture of
gentle reproachment.
     "Now you listen to me, son," the doctor's voice was low, but
pointed, "There's no way I'm going to open up his or anyone else's chest
under these conditions."
     "Why the frack not?" Apollo softly retorted.
     "The fire has already ruined one energizer," Salik held his ground,
"And if the other one goes, as well it may, all of the equipment in the
operating room will lose power."
     The commander's son lowered his head slightly as he realized the
implications of what Salik was saying.
     "Would you want me poking around your father's heart with a
knife-cutter at a time like that?"
     "Of course not," Apollo nodded, "You're right."
     "I promise you though, as soon as I get word that Energizer two is
safe from any danger, I'll go in right away."
     "Can I at least talk to him?" there was an almost pleading edge to
Apollo's question.
     "All right," Salik said, "But keep it short."
     The doctor moved off to another end of the room, while Apollo slowly
made his way over to the life pod where the stricken Adama lay.
     Never before had he been forced to face up to his father's
mortality.  All his life, his father had seemed head and shoulders above
any other man to him, a supherhuman,unshakable and indestructible.  Since
Adama had never suffered injuries as serious as this, Apollo's childhood
had been spared all the traumas that other children of warriors had
endured whenever their fathers or mothers were injured or killed in
battle.
     With apprehension, he reached Adama's life pod and looked down at
him.  His father could only move his dilated eyes to indicate his
awareness that his son was there.
     "Apollo," the voice was still that awful sounding rasp.
     "It's my fault your in here," his son whispered and choked back the
emotion in his voice, "I tried to get him sooner, but he was too far
ahead of us.  If I'd scanned them all for solonite in their tanks when
the battle started, I'm sure I could have gotten him sooner."
     "Not...your fault," a reassuring note came through Adama's raspy
whisper, "You...all did your best.  If anybody put me here...it's
Baltar."
     "Can I do anything for you?" again, it was a struggle to get the
words out.
     "You're...doing it right now," his father's eyes again glanced in
his direction, "Just...by being here."
     Apollo wished he could reach inside and squeeze his hand, but knew
he couldn't because of the pod's sterile chamber.
     Just then, Cassiopeia came up to him and also looked inside the pod.
     "I...want to see...Athena..and Boxey again...meet..Princess Alpha,"
Adama went on.
     "I'm sorry," Cassiopeia said gently to them both, "The doctor says
no more visitors."
     "Okay," Apollo nodded, "I'll talk to you later, Father."
     The med-tech gently guided him away from the pod.
     "You know something," a mirthless smile briefly crossed Apollo's
face, "I can remember growing up, how my mother always used to tell me
every time he had to go off on a mission, that I had to be prepared for
something like this to happen.  But he always came back without any
trouble, and I never had to give it a micron's thought.  I guess, that's
what makes the whole sight of him there so hard to take."
     "The Lords have always watched over him, Apollo," Cassiopeia spoke
with a soothing aura, "They're not through with him yet."
     "Yeah," Apollo sighed and nodded, "I hope so."
     "I'll stay with him."
     "Okay," he drew himself up, "I'll be on the bridge."
     As Apollo neared the door that left the Life Station, he passed
another warrior who had serious burns on his face and a singed uniform.
     "Captain," Sergeant Kulanda called over, "I'm sorry.  I tried to get
them out of there."
     Apollo came to a halt in the doorway and looked at him, "What are
you talking about?"
     "In the Rejuvenation Center," Kulanda took a breath, "Your sister
and son were still in there, along with Boomer.  I tried to get down the
corridor and force it open, but the whole area was cut-off by the fire. 
I'm sorry," he lowered his head, "I just couldn't get through it."
     Apollo looked as if he'd taken a hard kick in the crotch.  To learn
this information on top of everything else was almost too much to handle.
     He dashed out of the Life Station, and stopped in the corridor,
closing his eyes in anguish and leaning his head back against the wall.
     The cruel irony of what he'd been thinking a moment earlier about
how he'd suffered no childhood traumas over terrible things happening to
his father suddenly seemed even more cruel.  Now it seemed as though his
entire adulthood was to be spent making up for all that.  Zac.  His
mother.  Serina.  And now, the prospect of losing the only family he had
left.
     He felt like screaming every single profane epithet he could think
of.
     It took a long, moment of agonized contemplation before he could
find the strength to resume walking to the bridge.

********************

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Out Of The Rejuvenation Center, Into The Storage
Compartment

     No sooner had Bennann returned from sending his latest update to
Tigh that he found the situation in the compartment that had been
uneasily status quo for too long now, was taking a serious turn for the
worse.
     "We can't hold it here any more!" the lead fireman shouted as he
struggled to keep aiming his hose at the demonic blaze.
     Bennann banged his thick-gloved hand against the hot wall of the
corridor in aggravation.  The amount of boraton they'd been pouring on
the conflagration, theoretically should have put out a fire twice the
size of the one they were confronting.  But as this fire was proving, all
the theories they'd operated under for yahrens were fast becoming
irrelevant.
     Finally, he forced himself to put aside his professional pride and
admit the obvious.
     "Hardall!" Bennann called over to the firefighter manning the pump,
"Is that team at the other station in place?"
     "They're ready," Hardall replied.
     "All right then," he motioned to the lead firefighter. "Pull back
slowly.  We'll see what we can do from there.  I'm going to have to get
topside, and see if Tigh's got any new ideas on what we can do."

********************

     Tigh felt only a slight trace of relief that Apollo had already been
told about the situation in the Rejuvenation Center, so at least he'd
been spared the distasteful task of telling him about it.  But as he was
fast discovering, having to explain that there was not much that could be
done about it, was no less distasteful either.
     "Are you sure there's nothing you can do?" Apollo asked for what
seemed like the tenth time to the executive officer.
     "I'm sorry, Apollo, we couldn't get to them," he said, "Even if we'd
been able to, it still wouldn't have been any good.  All the doors
surrounding the Rejuvenation Center are jammed." 
     "But there must be a way to find out if they're still alive," Apollo
protested.
     "We can't," Tigh said as he stepped out of the way of a crewman who
was removing a portion of the collapsed ceiling bulkhead, "Internal
communications have been restored on this side of the fire.  Everything
on the port side, is still out."
     The executive officer started to move away, but Apollo gently
grabbed him by the shoulder.
     "Colonel," he said, "If they're alive, how long could they last?"
     Tigh sucked in his breath, "I don't know.  The fire is rapidly
consuming oxygen in that area.  Once it's gone, they'll have to use their
lifemasks.  And those would theoretically give them an extra centar, if
in fact they have them all.  But as the way things stand, Apollo, the
ship may have even less time than they do."
     Just then, they noticed the exhausted Bennann, his fire uniform
covered with space-black scorch marks entering the bridge.
     "Come on, let's see how things are now," the executive officer said
as he and Apollo made his way over to him.

********************

     Boomer reached back and caught hold of a chair.  Sliding it over, he
straddled it and continued watching Forger at work.
     Using the small tool kit he carried with him, the old man removed a
metal panel from the door.  The wires were now exposed, and he carefully
calculated the intricate areas that connected them to the gear mechanism. 
There could be no room for error on this.  He knew very well that one
wrong application could short out the motor to the door's gear mechanism
and leave it permanently frozen in the closed position.
     As he kept working, he refused to look behind at the thickening
cloud of smoke coming under the door.  The last thing he needed was any
sense of panic to distract him.
     At the other side of the dim, smoky room, a middle aged woman began
sobbing, short gasping sobs.  "Time's running out...we'll all die.
     "That doesn't help," Boomer said in her direction.  "Don't give up
until..."
     "Boomer, she's right," Athena tapped him on the shoulder, "I think
we've already lost some time."
     "Maybe," Boomer said.  "Hopefully, no more than a few microns."
     "Might not sound like much to you," said Athena, "but, if you'll
take a look in that direction, it seems to be enough to scare the poggies
outta Boxey."
     Princess Alpha had been saying something to the now-frightened
Boxey, trying to cheer him up and get him to quiet down.  Then, with no
trace at all of the time in between, she was on her knees in the
Rejuvenation Center floor, choking, as if both her lungs were congested.
     "Boomer! Help!" cried out Boxey between coughs of his own.
     Boomer and Assault put their powerful arms around her, dragging her
close the bulkhead where Forger continued to work feverishly.  
     "C'mon, sweetheart," the black lieutenant urged, "don't give in."
     When she inhaled, her chest hurt.  "Don't look so down, love," she
told him.  "I'm a long way from expiring."
     "Aha!" Forger muttered to himself.  The old man sized up the wires
and decided that everything was in place.  He wiping the sweat from his
wrinkled brow and turned to face the crowd.  "We're all set, fellers," he
said. 
     "When this door opens, if it opens, we get Boxey and the injured in
first and then the rest of you," called out Boomer.  "But make it fast,
because I don't know how long Forger can keep it open."
     "Boomer," Athena motioned her head toward the main door, "It's
getting worse."
     The old man sucked in his breath and took hold of the wires,
carefully joining them together.  And then, a shower of sparks forced
Forger to let go.
     "Damn!" he whispered.  Forger secretly feared making a wrong move 
and shorting out the gear mechanism; for all he knew, he may have done
exactly that. He tried applying them again, but as he feared, nothing
happened.
     For a long second, he stood there, trying to think of what he could
do.
     "Lords forgive me, I should've seen that before." He pulled out his
screwdriver again, "I may have just used the wrong wave bond for that
connection.  If I change that," he made a small adjustment to the
circuitry, "That should hopefully do it."
     "And if it doesn't?" Athena asked with a note of fear entering her
voice.
     He looked her in the eye,  "Then the bloody motor's already shorted
out, and I'll never be able to open it."
     "Hurry," Alpha croaked in her smoke-filled voice as she turned away
and looked back at the rising smoke cloud, "Hurry."
     Carefully, Forger once again brought the two main wires together.
     Another shower of sparks erupted.  But this time, the crackling
sound was followed by the reassuring whoosh of the compartment door
sliding open.
     "All right he's got it open! Hurry up!" Boomer barked as the old
prisoner continued holding the wires together.
     The others got to their feet and with some helping the wounded
people, began to file in.
     "Move!" it was the loudest command he'd ever given.
     Athena quickly pushed Boxey and his robot pet through the doorway,
Assault following them.
     Alpha still stayed by Boomer's side.
     "Let's go, Alpha!" he ordered her, "Get moving!"
     "What about Forger?" she asked with concern, "The door will shut as
soon as he lets go of those wires, won't it?"
     "I'm old," Forger said. "I've lived out my life. Just get going!"
     Boomer reluctantly nodded and, his arm around Alpha, went through,
leaving Forger alone in the room.
     Forger's aged hands almost slipped, causing the door to partially
shut and go back open.  He looked back and saw the cloud increasing.
     "Come on, Forger," Boomer motioned, "Get in, now."
     "I--I can't."
     Boomer sucked in his breath and sized up the opening.  He had to
time pulling the old prisoner in just right.  If he wasn't quick enough,
the door would close on both of them, leaving them trapped in the room.
     Slowly, he began a mental countdown from three.
     Just as he grabbed hold of Forger's arm, the main door suddenly
exploded against the onslaught of the raging inferno outside.
     Incredibly enough, the force of the blast speeded their momentum
forward, and they tumbled through to the floor of the storage compartment
just as the door slammed shut.
     "Thank God," Athena let out a sigh of relief.
     "Twasn't necessary," Forger breathed, "But...thanks anyway, Boomer."
     Boomer slowly got to his feet, and felt something sticky in his hip
pocket.
     "Well Boxey," he said sheepishly as he came over to the little boy
and pulled the object out, "It looks like I, ah, mashed your mushy."
     "It's okay," Boxey managed to weakly smile as he impulsively threw
his arms around Boomer in relief, "Dad said I'd had too much anyway."
     Boomer let out a chuckle as he tossed the ruined candy aside and
reciprocated the light hug.
     At the other end of the compartment, Athena quickly checked one of
the storage bins.  Her shoulders sagged in disappointment when she saw
what was inside.
     "Boomer," she called over to him.
     Boomer gave Boxey a pat on the head and made his way over to Athena. 
Her expression was grave.
     "The telecom's dead in this compartment too," she said, "And there
are only five lifemasks."
     "Frack!" he gritted his teeth, "Okay we'll save them for later and
take turns with them."
     Princess Alpha started to ask, "Have you..."
     She went away again.
     But this time she didn't come back.

********************

     "Maybe we should try the next compartment, now."
     Boomer nodded, "Good idea," he went over to the door on the other
side and checked the circuits.  Then, he carefully placed his hand on the
door.
     "Ow!" Boomer felt a powerful heat that made him pull his hand away.
     "Are you okay?" Boxey came up and asked with concern.
     "Oh boy," Boomer looked about the cramped confines of the room as he
massaged his hand to ease the pain, "Now I know what it's like to get
stranded in the bottom of the Piscean Grand Canyon.  The fire's hemmed us
in on all sides."
     "We're trapped then," Athena bit her lip, looking at the comatose
Alpha lying prone on the chamber floor.
     "There's got to be another way," he said defiantly, "There has to
be."
     "Boomer?" Boxey's voice quivered slightly.
     He looked down at him and saw that the little boy was trembling.
     "Hey," he knelt beside him and squeezed his hand, "Don't worry,
Boxey.  It'll be okay."
     "Am I gonna see my Dad again? Is Alpha gonna be all right?"
     Boomer noticed a tear forming in his eye, and he gently wiped it
away.
     "Course you will, Boxey," he said gently, "Right now, I'll bet you
he's doing all that he can to make sure that he sees you again.  And when
we're outta here, Dr. Salik's gonna make Alpha all better." 
     He then smiled reassuringly, "Now right now, you can make your
father proud by going back there and helping those people like the good
warrior you are.  Okay?"
     Boxey dimly nodded and slowly made his way back to the other end of
the room with Muffit trailing him.
     "Thanks," Athena said, "I should have done that myself, but I don't
think I would have known what to say."
     Boomer said nothing as he slowly got back to his feet.
     She let out a sigh and leaned her head against the wall, "I'm just
not cut-out to be his surrogate mother, Boomer.  I just can't...relate to
him the way a full-time parent should."
     "Nobody expects you to," Boomer said gently.
     "I know," Athena said, "But the way things stand, I don't have much
of a choice.  I don't think Apollo's ever going to let himself get sealed
again."
     He raised an eyebrow, "You really think so?"
     "I know so," her tone was gently emphatic, "He literally worships
Serina's memory.  If you want my honest opinion, Boomer, I think he has
some kind of secret death-wish."
     "What makes you think that?"
     "Boomer," she said, "Have you ever noticed that since Serina died,
Apollo has volunteered for every single dangerous mission that a warrior
could go on?"
     Boomer stopped to think for a moment.
     "Okay," he admitted, "But he's usually had me and Starbuck tagging
along with him.  I can assure you, I don't have any kind of death wish,
and neither does Starbuck."
     "There's a difference," Athena said, "If you had a six yahren old
son, who'd already lost a parent, wouldn't you be just a little more
cautious about picking assignments that asked for a lot more than just
flying your viper and destroying Cylon fighters?"
     Boomer slowly nodded, "I probably would."
     "And another thing," she added, "With you and Starbuck, it's more a
case of 'follow-the-leader.'  You both think of Apollo the way you'd
think of your own kinsman, and its usually obvious that you're only
following him because you want to be there in case something were to
happen to him."
     "I admit that," Boomer said, "But I still don't think that means
it's any different with Apollo."
     "Tell me something Boomer," Athena said, "Have you ever known Apollo
to make any gruesome jokes during one of those missions?"
     "No," he sighed, "Starbuck and I are usually the bad comedians when
it comes to that.  It's the only way to cover-up how..." he trailed off
and frowned as a thought suddenly popped in his head.
     "How scared to death you really feel?" Athena finished the sentence
for him, "But not Apollo.  With him, it's practically a fatalistic
approach to the whole thing."
     "Yeah," Boomer absently rubbed his chin, "Now that I think about it,
you may have something there."
     "I'm sure of it."
     "If you think so, then it's time for you and he to have a
heart-to-heart chat."
     "It wouldn't make any difference," she sighed, "He'd never listen to
me.  He'd probably indignantly deny it, and say I was just being
overprotective."
     "So who can talk to him?" Boomer asked, "Me? Starbuck? The
Commander? Maybe Alpha, if she recovers."
     "No," she shook his head, "I don't think he'll realize it ever,
unless another woman falls in love with him someday and forces him to
confront it."
     Boomer was silent, as he began to idly look about the compartment
again.  At the other end, Boxey had resumed playing with Muffit and
Assault was tending to Alpha.
     "For Boxey's sake, I hope Apollo finds that woman someday and
listens to her," Athena went on, "Until then, I don't think that boy is
going to have anything resembling stability."
     Something caught Boomer's attention in the corner of his eye.  He
turned his head and saw that it was the ventilation duct in the side of
the wall.
     He then looked back at Boxey and Muffit and his eyes seemed to light
up.
     "Boomer?" Athena frowned.
     "Athena," he said calmly, "I think there may be a way out of the
Piscean Grand Canyon after all."

********************

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Plans & Attempts

     "Okay, Bennann," Tigh said as he and Apollo came up to the Chief
Firefighter, "Where do we stand now?"
     Bennann exhaled slightly and wiped his forehead with the back of his
hand, "Is there a computer running that can give me the blueprints for
the ship?"
     "I think so," the executive officer nodded, "Over here."
     The three of them went over to the relatively undamaged side of the
bridge that had gotten all of its consoles back to a semblance of order. 
Apollo sat down at the terminal and punched several buttons so that a
detailed overview of the Galactica now appeared on the monitor.
     "Here's the situation," Bennann  said as he moved his finger over
the image, "From the port landing bay, and the section beyond, the fire
divides, advancing here through Beta section, towards Energizer Two, and
here through Gamma section."
     "Toward the solium storage tanks," Tigh was grim-faced.
     "There's no getting around it," Bennann was blunt, "If it reaches
them, we go up like a supernova."
     "And pretty much the same thing if it gets to the Energizer first,"
the executive officer said.
     "The only difference would be the size of the explosion," the Chief
Fireman nodded, "If it was just one or the other, I might still have
enough men to barely contain the fire, even with the Boraton Mist Control
Center gone.  But because the fire's headed in both directions, I've had
to divide up the teams equally, and they're just not enough.  All they've
been able to do is slow up the progress in both sections, but they can't
hold them back indefinitely."
     "You can't transfer them all to one section at a time?" Tigh asked.
     "No, I cannot," Bennann said. "Because the section that isn't being
treated would accelerate and we'd go up even sooner than predicted."
     Apollo's eyes suddenly lit up as he continued looking at the
blueprints.
     "Colonel, come look at this," his voice took on a slightly
exhilarated tone, "This duct system interconnects the Rejuvenation Center
with some other areas of the ship, including right here on the bridge!"
he rose from his seat and went back to where the bridge duct was
locating.
     "Out of the question, Captain," Bennann said as he and Tigh came up
to him.  "These ducts are too small for a person to get through."
     The executive officer hunched over Apollo, eyeing the duct himself,
"An adult, yes.  But what about a small boy?"
     "No," Apollo shook his head as he continued to look inside the
shaft, "Boomer's not so irresponsible that he'd  take a chance like that
with Boxey's life."
     He then looked back as another idea popped into his head, "On the
other hand, he could send Muffy."
     Tigh slowly shook his head, "That's not an option either, I'm
afraid."
     "Why isn't it?" Apollo demanded.
     "Here's why," Tigh motioned him back to the computer, while an
increasingly impatient Bennann followed them both.
     The executive officer sat down and flicked several switches that
brought up more detailed blueprints on the screen.
     "That duct system leads in eight or nine different directions,
ending in more than thirty compartments, only one of which is here on the
bridge," Tigh's voice was final, "The chances of a daggit, even one built
by a genius like Wilker, coming out here are less than remote."
     Apollo held his ground. "Obvious solution: send men to the other
compartments and have them wait until Muffy shows up."
     Bennann decided to stop being patient, "And where do you suggest
these men come from, Captain?" he asked sharply, "In case you didn't hear
a word I was saying a centon ago, I barely have enough men to slow-up the
progress of both fires."
     "And I need every man on the bridge to try and get this ship back to
some semblance of working order," Tigh added pointedly, "The Life Station
is overloaded, the pilots must stay on alert in case the baseship that
sent out those fighters decides to come our way, and you're telling me I
should send thirty men to go wait for a daggit that might not even be
trying to get to here?"  He shook his head, "I'm sorry, Apollo.  Even if
I thought there was a chance, I still couldn't do it."
     Apollo knew that Tigh was right, but he was now desperate to keep-up
his fight, "But they could still be alive, you can't just leave them
there!"
     "Apollo," the executive officer put a hand on his shoulder, "If the
fire reaches either Energizer Two or the solium tanks, the Galactica is
doomed.  All our resources must go to preventing that."
     "And as things stand, there's not a damn thing we can do to stop
it," Bennann added, "The oxygen in each compartment is drawing the fire
deeper and deeper into the ship like metal to a magnet.  With these two
curves they're wandering in, the only way we could stop it is by
drenching the whole thing straight away with boraton."
     "Would such a thing be possible?" Tigh asked.
     "Yes, but right now, we can only tap into our boraton from these
secondary pump stations that can't do the job, because they can only be
used in limited areas.  Now if we had enough high pressure, we could
theoretically tap into enough to put it out in all areas but the landing
bay.  However, we still wouldn't be able to do anything in the landing
bay itself because it's totally unapproachable to us."
     "If you were able to compensate for the high pressure and put it out
everywhere but the landing bay, would that be enough to at least save the
Galactica?"
     "No sir," Bennann shook his head, "It must be smothered in each and
every  area because one fire feeds the other.  Leaving the landing bay
unaffected would, in my opinion, be tantamount to just another stalling
tactic."
     Apollo, who'd been listening intently to what the Chief Firefighter
was saying, suddenly held up his hand.
     "Wait! I have an idea," he said, "We could replace the turbo-lasers
in three or four of our vipers with mega-pressure pumps from the damaged
energizer, fill them with boraton, and connect them to the firing
mechanism."
     "Just like a strafing run," Tigh nodded with interest.
     "Exactly," the enthusiasm returned to Apollo's voice, "With four of
us making continuous runs, we could inundate that bay with boraton."
     "Is there anything to what he says?" Tigh looked at the Chief
Firefighter.
     "He may be on to something, I'll give him that."  Bennann rubbed his
chin.  "I never thought one of the mega-pressure pumps to boost the
pressure in the internal hose system that feeds to all of the pump
stations. Yes, that would take care of the fire in the other zones,
but..." he trailed off.
     "But what?" Apollo demanded.
     "Your plan hinges on using mega-pressure pumps from Energizer One,
and right now, I'm not even sure they're still undamaged.  The unit is in
the compartment to one side of where our front-line has been set up, and
we haven't confirmed whether it was just destroyed by the blast, or
whether the fire's already taken that whole compartment out.  If that's
the case, then the mega-pressure pumps will have been ruined or unusable
due to unsatisfactory condition."
     "Then get to that compartment and retrieve them on the double," Tigh
said pointedly, "Those pumps are the only chance we have at surviving."
     "We'd only need five men to get in there to carry them out in one
trip," Apollo said, "Can you get that area clear for just five centons,
or even a little less than that?"
     Bennann sucked in his breath, "It would mean diverting one unit
that's handling the fire arc headed for Energizer Two, but yes, I could
temporarily get that one area clear.  But you'd still need a small
explosive charge to get the door open."
     "We'll get one," Apollo said, "Have a couple fire suits sent to the
Officers Quarters, and we'll be down there in ten centons."
     "My men are capable of carrying out this task, Captain," the Chief
Fireman responded firmly, "With all due respect, this falls under our
training, not yours."
     "But they're not trained to set and place the charge, Bennann, I
am," Apollo stood firm.
     "Captain, there are quite a few men on this ship from Maintenance
with more training in setting explosive charges than you and the pilots
are," Bennann wasn't giving an inch either.
     "And where do you suggest those men come from?" Apollo deftly threw
back the Chief Firefighters earlier retort, "It'd take at least ten more
centons that we don't have just trying to track them down."
     "Gentleman," Tigh coldly cut in, "That will be quite enough. 
Bennann, I'm sorry but I'm afraid I must agree with Apollo.  As long as
he's here and ready, you'll save a lot more time getting this whole thing
in motion."
     The Chief Firefighter knew when it was time to quit arguing, "Okay,
okay, come with me, Captain.  We'll stop by Ordnance and get the charge,
and one of my men will lend you his suit."

********************

     Starbuck and Brie had decided to check the activity on the bridge
when they ran into both Apollo and Jorda, who were leaving.
     "What's up, bud?" Starbuck asked his friend.
     "Follow us, and I'll fill you both in," Apollo said.
     A few centons later, as they stopped by the Ordnance section to
pick-up the explosive charge that would be needed, Apollo had finished
explaining the situation to them.  Not just the plan at hand, but the
situation in the Rejuvenation Center as well.
     "Apollo," Starbuck placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, "You know
how good a man Boomer is.  If anything, you know he'll be doing all he
can to keep Athena, Boxey and our new arrivals safe."
     "I know," Apollo simply nodded and then changed the tenor of his
voice to one that was pure business, "The two of you report to the launch
bay and get your vipers and Bojay's ready.  As soon as we get the pumps
retrieved, I'll join you and we can get started on the strafing runs."
     Brie looked at him in bewilderment, "Are you up to getting the pumps
and doing the strafing runs?"
     "As up as I'll ever be," Apollo looked her in the eye, as he opened
the door to the Ordnance section and then turned back to the Chief
Firefighter, "Bennann, go ahead and get that fire suit ready."
     He nodded, "I'll have a full team waiting in the compartment outside
our front-line to help you.  Firefighter Hardall will give you further
instructions."
     Bennann disappeared down the corridor, while Apollo entered the
Ordnance room.

********************

     As Apollo reached the compartment adjacent to where the fire-zone
began, four other firefighters were already waiting for him.
     "Which one of you is Firefighter Hardall?" Apollo asked.
     "That's me," Hardall stepped forward, "And Firefighters Dion,
Arones, and Fabamant.  I know we'd all like to say how much of an honor
it is to be working with a warrior like you, Captain, but the sooner we
dispense with pleasantries, the better."
     Apollo nodded, "Where's my fire suit?"
     "Right here, captain," Hardall tossed the silver garment and hood at
him, "It should provide enough protection if the room's already gone."
     Quickly, Apollo removed his flight jacket and slipped into the thick
coverall, "We'll use the lowest level charge with a thirty micron delay
on the door," he said as he tightened the straps, "As soon as it's clear,
we go in and try to recover all five pumps."
     "We've got tools in case we need to cut them away from the main
Energizer unit," Hardall said, "With any luck we won't be needing them. 
It'll be a lot better if we're still able to unhook them from their
couplings."
     "What might happen if you have to cut them loose?" Apollo took the
hood and prepared to put it on.
     "Anything," Hardall was blunt, "We could break the seals, we could
puncture the skin on them by accident, we could end up touching a live
wire that might be tangled up in them.  I don't have to tell you how
dangerous this is going to be Captain, especially since we'll be racing
against time.  The sooner we can get the auxiliary hoses we've brought in
for this back to their normal station in Gamma Section, the better."
     "Once we get the pumps, are they that hard to carry?" the young
voice of Firefighter Dion asked.
     "No, they're a bit bulky, but one man can carry them, Dion," Hardall
answered, "If there is a danger, it could come from the extra boraton."
     Apollo frowned, "What do you mean?"
     "We're going to be saturating that zone with so much boraton that
the floor is going to have some wretchedly wet and terrible traction. 
Our boots aren't designed for running in zones like that, so you'll have
to take your steps very carefully.  And keep in mind that when we exit
the compartment and make our way back, there'll still be two boraton
hoses spraying in our faces the whole time.  Like I said, it's a race
against time, but we can't do any actual racing on our feet."
     "I understand,"  Apollo slipped his hood on and adjusted the strap,
"Okay, let's do it."
     Hardall cautiously opened the compartment door.  As soon it was open
a crack, Apollo instantly felt the rush of heat from the other side even
under his insulated garment.
     Once the door was open, Apollo had his first look at the fire. Even
in this section where it had not fully spread, it was worse than anything
he'd ever seen in more than ten yahrens of service aboard the Galactica.
     Two additional teams of four firefighters had moved in on the scene
with extra hoses, waiting for Hardall to give the signal to begin
concentrating their aim on the area by the compartment door that led to
the damaged Energizer.  At the moment, the fire had lapped ahead at a
relatively restrained pace.  It was only a short distance further back
from the compartment door though, that the intensity of the fire switched
from a moderate level, to that of a massive wall of flame.
     As soon as Bennann saw the five men enter from the next compartment,
he gestured his arm and gave the signal to start the additional hoses.
     Eight additional jets of boraton mist joined the four that had
already been going.  The level was so massive, that for a brief instant,
Apollo couldn't even see the door just twenty maxims away.
     Bennann kept his arm in the air as an indicator for the hoses to
keep going.  It stayed that way for well over a centon.
     Finally, the Chief Firefighter lowered his arm and shouted, "Okay,
auxiliary units only, cease!"
     The additional boraton jets stopped, and Apollo could see clearly
again.  For the first time, the fire around the area of the door was out.
     "All right, Captain, move!" Bennann shouted.
     Apollo took a breath and made his way through the two streaks of
boraton still operating.
     He briefly forgot Hardall's warning and almost lost his traction on
the wet floor, which nearly caused the charge to slip out of his hand. 
Quickly, he managed to regroup himself and took more careful steps before
he finally reached the door.
     As Apollo placed it, he threw a momentary look down toward the next
compartment, where the fire was seething more ferociously, and, little by
little, creeping its way back toward him, now that the auxiliary units
had been shut off.
     He tapped the button and started dashing back to where he'd come
from.  Once again, the traction caused him to stumble, but this time,
Apollo prepared himself by going into a tumble motion.  Across the wet
surface, he managed to literally roll his way back to the feet of the two
firefighters at the main hoses.
     "Everybody, drag back down the corridor!" he shouted as he hurriedly
got to his feet. 
     On cue, the firefighters all fell back an additional thirty maxims
from the door so they'd be safe from the explosion.
     Apollo looked back and felt the stress and strain rising as the fire
seemed to draw closer to the door.  If it reached it before the charge
went off, the combination could be lethal.
     He cast an impatient glance at his chronometer.  Never before had
thirty microns seemed to last so long.
     Finally, the puff of smoke erupted as the charge blew, and the
compartment door came off its track.  At the same time, the fire at the
other end drew to within ten maxims of the now-open door.
     "Move back in," Bennann motioned to the lead firefighter who
reassumed their original position.
     "Recovery team, get moving!" Apollo barked to Hardall, Dion and the
other two firefighters.
     The five of them made their way carefully through the two jets of
boraton, and entered the blasted opening.
     The instant they were in, Bennann motioned the auxiliary teams back
in to keep the area contained.

********************

     "What are you thinking, Boomer?" Athena asked as he continued
staring at the vent.
     "That duct system leads to the bridge," he said, "And at least
thirty other compartments well outside the fire areas."
     "They're too small for us."
     "Yeah," Boomer nodded, "But not for a daggit."
     He went over to the other end of the room where Boxey was applying
another bandage to one of the wounded.  The robot daggit was right beside
him.
     "Boxey," Boomer said gently, "You've been doing a great job helping
these people.  But I think right now, it's time we let Muffy try and do
something that will help all of us."
     "He can do anything," the little boy looked up and smiled with
pride, "What do you want him to do?"
     "You see that?" Boomer pointed to the duct, "If we let Muffy go
crawling through to there, he'll reach one of the other areas where
there'll be people who can send more lifemasks for us, and help get us
out of here a lot sooner."
     "Will it be dangerous?"
     "Not for him, it won't be," Boomer said casually, "He's not a real
daggit, after all."
     Boxey nodded, "If it means I can see my Dad and my grandfather
again, then let him do it."
     And get help for Alpha in the process, I hope. Athena thought,
looking over at the unconscious woman who didn't seem to be breathing.
     "Okay," Boomer said with a great deal of relief that he'd been able
to convince him so easily, "Muffy come here."
     "Go on, Muffy," Boxey gave his pet a gentle nudge, "Do what Boomer
says."
     The robot let out a bark and made its way over.  Boomer carefully
took it and gingerly placed it in the vent opening.
     With one hand still on the daggit, he placed a hurriedly scrawled
letter inside one of its metallic collars.
     "All right then, Muffy," he gave it another push, "Go bring some
help back to us.  Make your owner proud of you."
     With another mechanical bark, Muffit moved slowly down the duct
passageway.  Boomer and Athena kept their eyes fixed on it until the
daggit turned a corner and disappeared from view.
     "Okay," Boomer sighed and settled back against the wall, "Now comes
the tough part.  Waiting to see if he gets to someone."
     Athena nodded and then frowned as she took a cautious sniff of the
air.
     "Boomer," she said, "It might be a good idea to start using the
masks we already have."
     Boomer took a breath.  There was a thinner quality to the air, and
the rank stench that had filled the Rejuvenation Center was now evident
inside the Storage Compartment.
     "I think you're right," he got to his feet and reached for the five
lifemasks from the storage bin.

********************

     Apollo was the first one inside the Energizer Room.  To his relief,
he saw that it had only been hit by the shock wave of the explosion and
that the fire had so far avoided the room.
     When Hardall entered, he took a look at the remains of the Energizer
unit and let out a low whistle.  The tall, sleek piece of equipment had
literally been blasted into pieces.  Scorch marks blackened what had been
the top of the machinery.  There was virtually nothing about it that was
recognizable.
     "My, my, my," the firefighter said in disbelief, "What a fracking
mess."
     Apollo looked about, trying to find the mega-pressure pumps that
ordinarily connected to the main unit and fed into various locations in
the wall, from which power was supplied to the ship.
     "No good, Captain," Hardall said matter-of-factly, "We'll have to
clear some of this debris away.  All right men, let's get to work!" he
barked at Dion, Arones, and Fabamant.
     Together, the five men started pulling away the fallen debris
surrounding the main unit.  Apollo was gritting his teeth and grunting
the loudest of them as he struggled with the debris.  He finally had to
stop and rest, even as the other four continued to lug the fallen
fragments.
     "Not your usual line of work, is it, Captain?" Hardall said above
the effort he was still putting into it.
     Apollo looked up at him from his sitting position on the floor where
he was catching his breath, "Not by a daggit's tooth, Hardall."
     "Sir," Fabamant blurted, "I think I see them!"
     "Keep goin!" Hardall said as they continued pulling more debris
away, "Keep going! Yeah! Paydirt!"
     Apollo got to his feet, "Do we have all five of them?"
     "Yep. All five," Fireman Arones said, "And, thank the Lords, they're
all still attached to their main couplings."
     "Terrific," Hardall said, "Just unscrew them and they'll be ready to
go.  We just saved ourselves some more time."
     Apollo came back to them and went to work with the rest of them on
detaching the bulky pumps from the devastated remains of the Energizer
unit.  Some of them had blackish marks on them. but it was clear that
none of them had been punctured.
     As he finished unscrewing his pump, Hardall looked about and was
still taken aback by the level of the damage throughout the room, "Tell
me something, Captain.  How come one of our vipers never gets to do this
kind of thing to a basestar?"
     Apollo looked up and smiled wryly at Hardall as he finished
unscrewing another. 
     "I was thinking of damage, not destruction, Captain," Hardall
returned it as he picked up one of the pumps, "Just once, I'd like to
envision a squadron of Cylons trying to do this kind of work."
     "That'd be a fine-lookin' sight," Dion chimed in as he took another
one.  "All of 'em melting like ice cream in the sun before they could put
the fire out."
     Just then, they heard a loud crash come from above their heads.  The
five of them looked up to the upper walkway of the Energizer room and saw
that the compartment door on the walkway had blown open.  Immediately,
the fire lapped on to the walkway from the room beyond.
     "That's from the compartment next to the landing bay," Hardall
gritted his teeth, "Looks as though we made it in here just in time. 
Another five centons, and these pumps would have been gone altogether."
     Arones and Fabamant then finished with the other pumps, and with
that, Apollo and the four firemen made their way back toward the open
door.
     Hardall stuck his head out first and gestured his arm as a signal to
Bennann to have the auxiliary pumps quit.  Immediately, the level of the
boraton spray slackened to the level of just the two main hoses.
     The five men slowly made their way out into the corridor.  Apollo
briefly craned his neck backward.  The huge curtain of fire at the other
end was inching forward again, now that the intensity of the boraton had
been lessened.
     Suddenly, in spite of his measured steps, Dion slipped on the wet
floor and lost his footing.  He crashed to the surface and the pump he
was carrying, clattered off to one side.
     "Kill the rest of that boraton!" Apollo shouted, "Kill it now!"
     "She's about ready to flare again!" Bennann shouted back, "We can't
afford to kill it or else it'll take all of you out!"
     Apollo looked back at the young firefighter on the floor who was
clutching his leg in pain.  With frustration, he trudged his way forward
through the boraton spray and finally, after almost two centons, made it
back to where Bennann and the others were stationed. Hardall, Fabamant
and Arones followed.
     "I'm going back for him," Apollo said as he looked back at the
writhing form of Dion.
     "No, let me handle it," Hardall pushed him aside, "This is part of
our job, Captain, not yours.  You get those pumps into the next
compartment and get them to the launch bay."
     Before Apollo could protest, Hardall was struggling with the bad
traction to make his way back to the injured Dion.
     Reluctantly, Apollo turned away from the scene and with several
others, started clearing the four recovered pumps into the next
compartment.
     Once they were safely in, Apollo came back out and saw that Hardall
had reached Dion and was slowly carrying him back.  The pump he'd dropped
still lay on the floor.
     Bennann had been concentrating on the scene at the far end of the
compartment, and without any warning shouted, "Get down, it's going to
re-intensify!"
     And then, he, Apollo and the two firemen with the hoses ducked as a
curtain of fire from the far end of the compartment belched forward and
shot over their heads for a brief instant.
     When it was finally safe to get up, the Chief Firefighter's eyes
widened in sick horror.
     "Oh frack," he whispered, "Frack, felgercarb and shit."
     Apollo looked and suddenly felt sick.  Because of Dion's injured
leg, Hardall had been unable to get down.  The curtain of fire had
crashed directly into both men with full force, and not even their
insulated suits could do anything to protect them.
     "I'm sorry," Apollo said to him with stunned regret, as he tried to
connect that terrible sight with the two men he had met only centons ago
and had already come to admire and respect, "I'm so sorry."
     "Never mind," Bennann's voice suddenly became totally unemotional,
"Never mind.  All part of this whole rotten job.  They're not the first
ones to die today and they won't be the last."
     The Chief Firefighter turned around to face him, "You'll have to
leave one of those pumps with me and make due with just three for the
vipers."
     "Okay," Apollo nodded and struggled to get that terrible sight out
of his mind, "Keep in contact with the bridge.  They'll notify you when
we make the strafing runs."
     "Captain," Bennann took his hand and shook it, "Good luck."
     Once Apollo was back in the next compartment and out of the
fire-zone, the look on his face was all that Arones and Fabamant needed
to know.
     Fabamant was stoic, and chose not to say anything about it,
"Captain, I've notified Maintenance.  Two men are on their way to help
carry these down to the launch bay.  We'd do it ourselves, but it's
important for us to get back to our job."
     Apollo nodded as he started to take off his fire suit.  As Arones
and Fabamant went by him to go back to the fire, he patted them both on
the back and shook their hands.
     "It's been an honor working with you," he said, "You're a fine group
of men."
     "And you, Captain," Arones acknowledged with a slight bow, "The
Lords be with you."
     When the compartment door had shut, leaving Apollo alone for the
moment, he had to summon all his strength to keep from breaking down into
tears.  Never before, had he seen anyone die as horribly as he'd seen
Hardall and Dion.  Seeing a viper destroyed in combat, or a warrior being
shot by a Cylon laser pistol had never conveyed the terror of sudden
death as vividly as the scene he had just witnessed.
     And what made him all the more frightened inside, was that such a
horrible scene could easily be repeated in the Rejuvenation Center if
things didn't change soon.

********************

Chapter Thirty: The Strafing Run

     As Starbuck slowly backed his viper into a position for refitting, a
subdued Apollo entered the launch bay carrying one of the pumps, followed
by two crewmen carrying the others.
     "Apollo," Starbuck looked down with concern from his cockpit, "What
happened down there?"
     "I don't want to talk about it," he said in a low tone as he set
down the pump he was carrying, "Jenny!"
     The ground-crew CWO came up to him.
     "Get these pumps put into my viper, Starbuck's and Brie's.  It's
only going to be the three of us," he paused to catch his breath, "Is the
boraton ready?"
     "All in place and ready to be pumped," she said.
     "Get on it now.  Try to have us ready to go in five centons."
     "You got it," Jenny turned to the other members of her ground-crew,
"Okay, people, let's get a move on!  Load these things in fast."
     Immediately, the ground-crew members came over, picked up the pumps
and carried them over to the respective vipers.
     Apollo took a breath, "Now, I'll be launching first and leading you
and Brie in," he then walked over to where his viper had been moved into
position.
     Brie and Starbuck nodded as they hitched up their helmet and took a
step toward their vipers.

********************

     "Boraton flight standing by, Colonel," Omega reported.
     "Okay," Tigh said and adjusted his headset, "Bennann?"
     "I'm at the main station for the internal hose system, Colonel," the
Chief Firefighter said, "We just finished attaching the mega-pressure
pump.  Once we turn the system on, then we'll be able to flood all the
boraton we need from all of our pump stations throughout the fire zones."
     "Hold up and wait for my signal, Bennann," Tigh then switched
frequencies.  "Apollo, you may launch when ready."
     "We'll be away in a micron, Colonel," Apollo said as he closed his
cockpit canopy.
     Starbuck looked over at Apollo's grim expression and decided to
inject a note of reassurance, "Apollo," he said gently, "Don't worry
about Boxey and Athena.  They're going to be okay.  So will the
Destructon prisoners."
     Brie impulsively decided to do the same, "They'll probably be
waiting when we get back."
     "If this works," Apollo sighed.  For a brief instant, a horrible
image of what he had seen happen to Hardall and Dion also conceivably
happening to Athena and Boxey went through his mind, and he quickly
pushed it out as fast as it had entered, along with the continued anxiety
he felt over his father's condition.
     "Remember, this boraton is heavy, so we're overloaded," his voice
switched to a tone of authority, "When you pull up after your run, watch
it, because the increased g-factor could slam you right against the
hull."
     "No problem, pal," Starbuck flashed a characteristic smirk, "I have
no intention of doing my best imitation of a Cylon fighter today."
     Seconds later, the three of them had hit their turbo buttons and
were away.

********************

     In the Life Station, the scene was less chaotic than it had been in
the immediate wake of the explosions.  Most of the patients with minor
burns had already been released, leaving only those in the life pods who
still required major attention.
     Cassiopeia was finishing with the burned warrior who had told Apollo
about Athena and Boxey.
     "I'm sorry," Kulanda muttered, "I shouldn't have been the one to
tell him."
     "It's okay," Cassiopeia said gently as she applied a frost
rejuvinator for the third time to the warrior's eye, "He had to know.  I
just hope the Commander didn't overhear it.
     "I wouldn't have mentioned it if I'd known he was in here, too," the
warrior went on, "I was--"
     "The sooner you learn to forget it, the better," an almost parental
note entered her voice, "You risked your life to try and get to them, and
now it's up to the others to do something about it."
     "I hope they get to them," he said.
     "They will," she said, "Okay, Sergeant, you can go now."
     Kulanda warily got to his feet and left the room.
     Cassiopeia sighed and went back to the other end of the Life
Station, where Salik was overlooking all of the life pods.  Directly in
his line of vision was Adama's.
     "Any change?" she asked.
     "For the worse," the middle-aged surgeon had his hand on his chin in
deep contemplation, "I'm now being pushed into the kind of dilemma no
doctor ever likes to get put in."
     "How?" she looked over at Adama with concern.
     "I said I wouldn't operate as long as the Energizer remains
endangered," he said, "But that pod isn't keeping his life signs stable
any longer.  And so, I have a choice of two options, both of which can
kill him.  Leave him in the pod and let the metal near his heart do it,
or operate now and run the risk of the equipment going out."
     Cassiopeia looked back at Salik, "Have you ever had that kind of
dilemma before?"
     "Too often," Salik sighed, "Much too often.  From the day I first
opened a medical practice on Cancera, forty yahrens ago."
     The med-tech again looked inside Adama's pod.  For now, the
Commander appeared to be in a resting state.
     "Crowded conditions, equipment failures," Salik went on with a trace
of grim irony, "These are the kinds of problems I had to cope with in
those early days, when my practice was in a run-down building in the
poorest region of Cancera, and I had to single-handedly provide care for
over two hundred people.  And then, I spent the next thirty yahrens,
making myself into a successful surgeon who moved on to work in the
finest medical facilities in all the Colonies, where problems like this
were a dim and distant memory.  In all the yahrens I worked at the
Canceran Medical Institute, we never once had to worry about Energizers
failing, and equipment going out, or too many patients to handle.  We
always had this smug assurance inside ourselves that we'd developed to a
level of technological perfection and efficiency.  That while there might
be unknown diseases to give us trouble, as far as treatable medical
emergencies went, there was nothing that couldn't be done without any
complications."
     Cassiopeia slowly made her way over to where Salik stood.
     "And now, thanks to the Holocaust, I find myself working on the
Galactica, and my career has come full circle.  I'm right back to working
in conditions and facing problems that I'd spent a whole lifetime trying
to overcome and get myself out of.  I've had to learn the hard way about
all the wrong lessons of my career." 
     The blonde med-tech gently put her hand on his shoulder in support. 
She'd never been able to tell the middle-aged doctor before how much she
had come to love him as a mentor, teacher and father-figure.  At a time
when she'd been struggling to cope with the Holocaust and knew that her
then-profession of socialator was one that she could not continue with,
Salik had reached out to her and asked if she'd be interested in becoming
a medical technician.  Because of that act of compassion, Cassiopeia had
been able to have a sense of purpose restored to her life, and a feeling
that she was doing more to help people than in all the time she'd
provided comfort as a socialator.
     Working with Salik up-close, and seeing how his compassion and
dedication extended to all levels of his work, had also inspired
Cassiopeia to consider moving on to even greater responsibilities within
the medical profession.  That Salik could in fact, train her to become a
doctor as well, and that one day, she would be doing his work, too.
     "Whatever decision you have to make, I'm sure will be the right
one," she said, "Your judgment had always been better than anyone else I
know."
     The middle-aged surgeon said nothing, but his faint smile indicated
his gratitude.
     "Dr. Salik," one of the other med-techs at the other end of the room
called over to him, "I require your assisstance with this burn victim."
     Salik nodded and turned to Cassiopeia, "Monitor the Commander's pod
readings, and let me know if they drop again.  That might make the
difference in my decision."

********************

     "Apollo," Tigh radioed, "The mega-pressure pump is in place on our
end.  You can commence the boraton run."
     Apollo took the lead position of the three vipers.
     "I'll make the first pass Starbuck, then you and Brie.  We'll have
to make it good."
     "I'm right behind you," his friend said.
     And then, they hit their turbos and went into a roll pattern that
would take them on a heading back to the burning battlestar.

********************

     "They're starting their run, Bennann," Tigh switched frequencies on
his headset.
     "Okay, Colonel," the Chief Firefighter acknowledged and then made
his way over to the giant console that controlled the ship's internal
hose system.  He gave a silent thanksgiving prayer to the Lords that the
builders of the Galactica had been wise enough not to position it in the
same location as the destroyed Boraton Mist Control Center.  If that had
happened, what they were now attempting would have been physically
impossible.
     No, he corrected himself.  It wouldn't have meant just that, it
would have mean that they'd already be dead, since there would have then
been no power for the hoses.
     "The vipers are beginning their run," he barked, "Start the
mega-pressure pump!"
     Firefighter Doega activated a switch on the console that started the
pump's power.  Then, one at a time, he cranked the valves controlling
each of the pump stations throughout the fire zones.  The level of
boraton pressure in each hose would now be increased to the levels they
needed to get to.
     Bennann could instantly see the pressure pump's effect on the hoses
just in front of him.  Almost immediately, they had thickened and
hardened to twice the size they'd been throughout the entire firefight.
     But now they were the size they should have been right from the
outset.  At long last, the level of boraton that they needed to contain
and smother the fire would be flowing throughout the ship.
     The Chief Firefighter could feel the tension rising inside him as he
banged his thick gloves together.

********************

     The creepy, orange radiance of the landing bay fire loomed larger in
Apollo's field of vision as he brought his viper closer.  There was a
heavy feeling not just in his viper from the unwieldy load of boraton,
but in the bottom of his stomach as well.
     Too much had happened to him this day.  Far more than he felt his
nerves could take.  And yet, it was because of that, that he knew that
whatever had to be done to save the Galactica was something he had to
take part in.  It was the only way to get all those sick and troubling
thoughts out of his mind.
     "Here we go," Apollo took a breath as he hit his turbo and went into
a strafing run.
     "Easy," Apollo muttered through the tension and discomfort he felt,
as his nose came to within sixty feet of the burning landing bay
entrance, "Easy."
     His attack computer had been reprogrammed to show the landing bay
entrance as his target.  When he saw it blink, he let out a shout at the
top of his voice, "NOW!"
     Apollo hit his fire button.  Instead of the normal red streaks of
laser fire, a white cloud of boraton erupted from the front and streaked
right through the burning entrance.
     As soon as it was away, Apollo pulled up.  He then felt an intense
pressure that he hadn't experienced since the worst days of Academy
training, when a slightly sadistic instructor would increase the g-factor
stress in the flyer simulator to extremely dangerous levels.
     Once he'd leveled off, he shook his dazed sensation off and looked
back at the Galactica.  The orange radiance of the landing bay fire
dimmed slightly, went out for only a brief instant, but then quickly
returned to its earlier intensity.
     The first shot, as he'd expected, was not enough to do the job.
     "Watch it Starbuck," he exhaled as he saw his friend's viper draw
closer, "The g-factors are worse than I thought."
     "How worse?"
     "Just think of old Kreneon at the Academy."
     "Oh, that bad," Starbuck rolled his eyes briefly, "Thanks for the
warning."
     The brash lieutenant hit his turbo and started his run.
     As he drew closer to the landing bay, the memory of the Cylon
fighter eluding his pursuit toward this same spot filled Starbuck's mind. 
To his way of thinking, he had played it as carefully as he could then,
and the end result was the conflagration that now loomed before him.
     As far as he was concerned now, Starbuck had no intention of playing
this run carefully.  It was time to make up for what he regarded as a
costly, terrible mistake he had made.
     He adjusted his nose down a degree and increased his speed.
     Apollo's eyes widened in disbelief as he saw Starbuck's viper plunge
slightly downward.
     "Starbuck, your angle's too steep," a note of alarm crept into his
voice.
     "The way I see it Apollo, I've got to get even closer than you did,
to do any good."
     "Don't take any unnecessary risks."
     "The last time I played it safe, the Cylon fighter got through!" for
the first time, Starbuck let his emotions surface as he drew closer.
     "Pull up!" Apollo shouted, "Break off your run!"
     "No way!," Starbuck gritted his teeth as the target flashed.  Just
forty feet from the opening, he hit the fire button and then went into a
far steeper climb than Apollo had been forced to go into.
     The stress was indeed, far worse than he'd remembered from the
Academy training days.  But thanks to that earlier experience when he'd
been flying the C.O.R.A viper, and had instructed her to go into an even
steeper dive and pull-up that had caused him to black out, his mind was
more than prepared to handle this one.
     Once he was back to an even flying level, he let out a sigh of
relief that the run was over.
     "I thought you weren't going to make it," Apollo radioed.
     "Yeah, well," Starbuck allowed himself a nervous chuckle, "I knew
what I was doing.  And what I had to do."
     He looked back at the landing bay.  Again, the brilliance of the
fire softened briefly and then went out for a brief instant.  And like
before, came back just as quickly.
     "Frack," he sighed.  But there was none of the dejection he'd felt
earlier.  At least this time, he knew he'd given it his best possible
shot.
     "Brie, you're up," Apollo radioed the third viper in the group.
     "Starting my run, now," she said calmly, and without any trace of
emotion.  She'd been silent throughout the previous two runs and been
focusing every part of her mind on the task that was at hand for her. 
     "This one has to do it, Brie," Apollo said pointedly.
     She took a deep breath.  
     "Make it good, just like the last time," he added with a note of
encouragement. 
     "I will," she allowed herself to whisper as she drew closer. 
     Closer and closer, her viper came toward the burning landing bay. 
She decided on an approach that would put her fifty feet from the
entrance when she fired.
     Behind her, Apollo and Starbuck could only watch with a rising level
of tension.
     The target computer blinked.  She bit her lip and pressed the fire
button.
     The white cloud of boraton hit its target on cue as she safely
pulled up with no difficulty.  Once she had leveled off, she craned her
head to see the results of the last attempt.
     Again, the orange radiance dimmed briefly.  Again, the radiance went
out.
     But this time, it stayed out.
     The three viper pilots said nothing for a moment, each of them not
wanting to react prematurely.  They continued to wait with the nervous
sensation that the glow would come back.
     But still, the only thing they could see in the landing bay was
darkness.
     Finally, Starbuck felt safe enough to break the tension, "We got
it," he said with careful exhilaration, "By all the Lords, we got it."
     "We got the landing bay," Apollo responded in a deliberate effort to
keep the level of enthusiasm down, "It's up to Bennann and the guys
inside to put the rest of the fire out.  If the mega-pressure pump
doesn't work there, this whole thing will have been for nothing."
     "What do we do in the meantime?" Brie asked.
     "For now, we stay out here and wait for the final confirmation that
the fire is out."

********************

     "It's working sir," a note of cautious optimism was in Firefighter
Doega's voice, as the thicker hoses sprayed massive levels of boraton
throughout the corridors of both fire zones.
     Bennann refused to be impressed, "We'll need at least five centons
of this before we'll have the tide turned.  I'm not letting out any
cheers until this thing is out, completely."
     The Chief Firefighter adjusted his headset and spoke into it, "Beta
Zone, report!"
     "Firefighter Mustaiapo, sir.  Starting to contain it along the
approach to Energizer Two."
     "Good, keep it up," he switched frequencies, "Gamma Zone, report!"
     "Firefighter Disaeutenys, sir.  She's still hot along the walls near
the solium tanks but the momentum's stopped.  We should have it turned
around in a few microns."
     "Good, keep it up," Bennann repeated and then changed to the bridge
frequency, "Colonel, we're starting to turn it around down here.  Another
five centons, and we might be out of danger."
     "Excellent," like the Chief Firefighter, the Executive Officer was
keeping all undue optimism out of his voice, "Your men are doing a great
job, Bennann."
     For the first time, a note of pride entered Bennann's voice, "Yes,
Colonel, they are.  They're Galactica's best."

********************

     "Colonel, how's it coming in there?" Apollo radioed.
     "It's going to take a little more time, Apollo," Tigh replied. 
"About another five centons, and it might be over by then."
     "We'll wait here and keep our eye on the landing bay."
     "Do that."
     Apollo hesitated briefly before asking his next question, "Colonel,
has there been any sign of Muffy?"
     "No, Apollo," Tigh said matter-of-factly, "I'm sorry to inform you;
there's been no change there.  But if the fire gets put out, I'll send a
team down there right away to get them out.  Trust me." 

********************

     Slowly, Bennann began to feel a creeping tide of optimism enter him
as the pressure pump continued to do its job.
     "Beta Zone?" he signaled.
     "Coming along even better sir," Mustaiapo answered, "We're moving in
on the worst part of the fire, here.  We get by this one area, and we'll
have the whole zone contained."
     "Very good, Mustaiapo, you're all---"
     The Chief Firefighter stopped as he was suddenly distracted by a
sound coming from the control console where the pump had been attached
to.
     "Doega, what's happening?" he dashed up to the console.
     "I think something's wrong with the seal, sir," Doega said, "It
could be that the pump was too weakened by the original explosion to
handle this load."
     "It's got to take the strain!" Bennann raised his voice in alarm as
all the optimism he'd been feeling rapidly receded, "Just three more
centons!"
     But no sooner had the Chief Firefighter finished his impassioned
plea, when the bolt connecting the pressure pump to the console suddenly
exploded in a puff of smoke.
     In an instant, the massively thick fire hoses deflated into flat
strips and their flow of boraton suddenly trickled to a stop.
     "No!" Bennann said through clenched teeth, "Damn it, no!"
     "Sir!" Mustaiapo 's voice shouted through his headset in terror,
"Our boraton's gone out!"
     "The pump's blown out, Mustaiapo, we'll get the regular pumps back
in a micron, hang on!" he gestured wildly at Doega who was frantically
pulling the pump off.
     "Oh my God, it's flaring out again!"
     A hideous scream then filled Bennann's headset.  Loud enough for
even Doega to hear.
     There was nothing but stunned horror on both their faces for a long
micron.
     Then, the Chief Firefighter let all the emotion he'd held back since
he'd seen Hardell and Dion burned to death, finally explode.  With
uncontrollable rage, he grabbed the useless pump from Doega, hurled it to
the floor and kicked it with all the fury he could summon.
     "Fracking piece of useless felgercarb!" he roared, and then turned
back to Doega, "Get those regular pumps going, now!  I want new teams in
place in Beta section on the double!" the intensity of his voice did not
let up.
     As Doega and two other firefighters frantically went to work on the
console, Bennann hurriedly readjusted his headset, "Gamma Zone, report!"
     There was no response.
     " Disaeutenys?" Bennann was almost begging for his subordinate to
respond. " Disaeutenys?"
     Still nothing.
     Bennann lowered his head.  He was too spent to let out his feelings
of rage and frustration again.
     "Put a new team in place in Gamma Zone," he returned to his usual
posture of authority, "Stay with it as long as possible."
     "We've got the regular pumps reconnected," Doega said as he hastily
cranked the valves on the console again.
     Slowly, the hoses that had gone limp inflated back to the
low-pressure level they'd been at before.  A level that they already knew
was too ineffective to contain the fire.
     "Sir," another firefighter dashed up to Bennann, "It's gone out of
control in both sections again.  And we're now looking at a lateral wall
of flame moving instead of a gradual pace forward."
     The Chief Firefighter rubbed the back of his neck, "Both sections
are to take up front-line positions at the main doors to the Energizer
room and the solium tanks.  Work it out from there as best as they can."
     "Yes sir," the firefighter left.
     The Chief Firefighter warily readjusted his headset, "Colonel, I'm
sorry.  The pump's main seal blew out and the fire's out of control
again.  We're falling back with the regular pumps."
     It was a moment before Tigh was able to reply.
     "I see," the executive officer sighed, "Bennann, your men did the
best possible job I've ever asked them to do.  Keep me posted."
     "Yes sir."
     The Chief Firefighter then walked up to the ruined pump that he had
kicked across the floor.  For the first time since he'd been a child, he
felt like crying.
     "Couldn't last another three fracking centons, could you?" he said
under his breath.
     He then gave it another savage kick and went back to his job.

********************

     Apollo, Starbuck and Brie remained in a holding pattern, keeping
their eyes focused on the battlestar.
     Suddenly, after more than three centons of darkness, the orange
radiance suddenly returned to the landing bay.
     "Frack," Starbuck's shoulders sagged, "We didn't get it."
     Apollo lowered his head and let out an agonized sigh.  All that
work.  All that struggle to get to the pumps, which had killed two brave
firefighters.  All for nothing.
     And his family, as well as the Galactica, remained in serious
danger.
     "Boraton flight," Tigh's voice sounded deflated, "I'm sorry.  The
pump was too strained from the explosion to handle the boraton pressure. 
You're cleared to land now."
     None of the pilots could say anything in response as they guided
their ships into the starboard landing bay.

********************

     "Colonel," Omega came up to the executive officer, "We're getting
some messages from the other ships in the Fleet."
     "Oh Lord!" Tigh shook his head, "We've been so concerned with trying
to save the Galactica, we've all but forgotten the rest of the Fleet. 
What are they asking?"
     Omega uneasily hesitated, "Well sir, they, ah...they all say they
need instructions on what they're supposed to do, in case..." the bridge
officer was unable to finish.
     Tigh nodded in acknowledgment, "I understand.  Omega, get me Admiral
Zhark aboard the Celestra."
     "Yes sir," he turned and walked away.

********************

     "Beta Section team, are you in place?"  Bennann had managed to get
himself back to an unemotional tone.
     "Yes sir, Firefighter Ephas--oh God," his voice suddenly took on a
disgusted edge.
     Bennann knew right away that they'd stumbled across the remains of
the team they'd been sent in to replace.
     "Look, I'm afraid you can't concern yourself with that," he said,
"What's the situation around the Energizer?"
     "Well sir," Ephas struggled to recover his tone, "we've only got it
clear for about a hundred feet around.  The chief problem now, is that
the flare-ups are becoming more regular.  And when they happen, they
bounce right off the Energizer compartment door, and they're liable to
start causing short-outs and power drops even before it reaches the
compartment."
     "Okay, there's nothing you can do about the flare-ups when they
happen, but keep it concentrated high and maybe they'll get a little less
frequent."
     "There's another thing sir," Ephas added, "The ceiling and the
corridor bulkheads are getting weakened by the flare-ups too.  They could
all cave in at any time now."
     "You just have to keep aiming it high," the Chief Firefighter didn't
change the level of his voice, "Ephas, your group is the last line of
defense in Beta Section.  You're going to have to stay with it right to
the end."
     "Yes sir, I understand, we---"
     "Ephas?" Bennann tensed, "You still there?"
     Suddenly, the lights above his head flickered and dimmed for a brief
instant, and then came back on.
     "Ephas?"
     "Yes sir," the firefighter's voice was out-of-breath, "Sorry, there
was another flare-up.  Went right against the compartment door."
     "Yeah, we noticed," Bennann looked up at the overhead lights with
concern, "Keep aiming your hoses high."
     As he switched the frequency off, the Chief Firefighter realized
that time was beginning to slowly run out.

********************

     The lights had also dimmed in the Life Station, where Salik had been
hunched over the life pod of another patient.  The pulsating regular tone
of the equipment that ran the chambers, abruptly slowed to an irritating
and muffled sound.
     Concerned, Salik made his way back to the monitoring station where
Cassiopeia was sitting, just as the lights returned to full intensity,
and the pulse of the equipment resumed its normal tone.
     "Well?" the doctor asked.
     The med-tech nodded, "That power drop just made his life signs even
worse."
     Salik looked at Adama's pod, "Damn!" he said with finality, "I don't
have any choice. I'm afraid I'm going to have to operate now.  More
power-drops like that are just going to kill him anyway."
     "I think that's a good idea," Cassiopeia got to her feet.
     "Notify Tigh," he said, "I'll be in Hypersonic Scrub."

********************

     Boomer took as delicate a breath as he could from the lifemask that
Assault had just passed over to him.  The ugly, thick smoke cloud had
begun to creep under the storage compartment door just as it had done in
the Rejuvenation Center.  Only this time, the twenty people could do
nothing else but stare at the cloud's development.
     After two more breaths, Boomer handed it to Boxey.
     "Okay Boxey," he said in a low tone, "Your turn now."
     "Don't worry," the little boy was outwardly smiling, but Boomer
could clearly see the fear in the child's eyes, "Muffit isn't going to
let us down."
     "I know he won't, Boxey," Boomer ran his hand through the little
boy's hair, "I know he won't."
     "Boomer," Athena ran her hand across her forehead, "I'm really
starting to feel funny, just like Alpha must've before she keeled over."
     "Everybody, try not to talk," Boomer raised his voice for the first
time in a while, "It's the only way we can stretch the current oxygen
level in here."
     No sooner had he spoken, when another prisoner, this one a heavyset
man  at the back of the room suddenly collapsed to the floor in a faint.
     Boomer and Athena made their way back to him then dragged him over
until he was lying next to Alpha.  He quickly took the unconscious
prisoner's pulse.
     "Very bad," he whispered as one of the other five masks was handed
to him and he placed it over the unconscious man's face,  "Very bad."
     "We all are," Athena whispered back, "Boomer, how much longer do you
think we have?"
     "Probably less than twenty or thirty centons," he cast a glance back
at the vent, "Damned daggit, why don't you show up?"

********************

     "I've got Admiral Zhark on Alpha Channel, sir," Omega said.
     "Thank you," Tigh flicked a switch.  The face of Admiral Zhark, the
retired supreme commander of the Colonial Fleet who had been pressed back
into active service as commanding officer of the Fleet's largest
maintenance ship, the Celestra, now filled the screen.
     "Colonel Tigh," he spoke in that stuffy, and characteristically
unfriendly tone.  Zhark was the polar opposite of Adama, notorious for
sorely lacking the gentle, compassionate characteristics associated with
the Galactica's commander.
     "Yes, Admiral," Tigh said, trying not to show any of the sense of
discomfort that Zhark always managed to instill in him, "I don't think I
need to tell you, how serious the situation is aboard the Galactica."
     "What can you tell me of Adama's condition?" he asked with a trace
of concern.  The Galactica commander had served under Zhark many yahrens
ago as the admiral's adjutant.
     "It's serious, but that isn't important right now," Tigh said, "As
Acting Fleet Commander, it's my responsibility to tell you, as the most
experienced warrior in the Fleet, what steps you'll have to take in the
event the Galactica is destroyed."
     The stern admiral nodded, "Go ahead."
     "Overall command will fall to you," Tigh's tone was firm, "Your
first priority is to get underway at top speed and escape this quadrant
of space.  Dr. Wilker is presently aboard the Auxiliary Electronics Ship,
and will be able to provide you with all data as to how maximum speed can
be achieved for all the ships.  At all possible costs, it is imperative
that you keep the Fleet together, and maintain the same levels of food
and fuel distribution.  Fortunately, all fuel tankers are, at this time,
loaded to maximum capacity so there will be no danger of any shortages
erupting on that front."
     "That's all well and good," Zhark's voice remained gruff, "But how
do I keep this Fleet together if I'm discovered by another Cylon task
force and have absolutely nothing with which to fight back?"
     "I'm coming to that," it was a struggle for Tigh to hide the
feelings of dislike Zhark evoked in him, "If it becomes clear that you're
being stalked by a baseship, or any other type of Cylon force that can
not be eluded, than the survival of human civilization dictates that you
disperse the Fleet in as wide a column as possible. From there on in," he
paused briefly, "Each ship will be on its own."
     There was no response from Kronus.
     "Are my instructions quite clear, Admiral Zhark?" Tigh took his tone
to the highest level of firm authority that he was able to muster.
     "Quite clear," his face had still not changed expression, "I shall
do so, if indeed the situation comes to that."
     "Thank you," he said, "This will be our last message until the
present situation is ended."
     "Colonel," for the first time, the inflection in Zhark's voice
changed slightly.
     "Yes, Admiral?"
     The usually stern and tight-fisted admiral let out a sigh that
telegraphed the true emotions he was feeling, "The Lords Of Kobol watch
over you, and be with you."
     Tigh nodded in understanding as he flicked the switch that ended the
transmission.
     "Colonel," Omega came up to him again, "Dr. Salik says he's going to
operate on the commander now."
     The executive officer gave him a pensive stare.
     "Omega," he said, "Watch over the bridge for a few centons.  I'll be
back soon."
     "Yes sir."
     Slowly, Tigh headed for the bridge exit for the first time since
before the battle.
     With seemingly nothing else to do at the moment, there was a fierce
determination within Tigh to go see Adama before the operation.
     Especially when it was tinged with the realization that no matter
what happened to the Galactica, he might not ever have another chance to
see or talk to him again.

********************

Chapter Thirty-One: Adama's Plan

     Tigh slowly walked into the Life Station.  Inside, he was a churning
mass of apprehension.  Outwardly, he was determined to keep it completely
hidden from Adama.  More than anything else, Tigh wanted his friend to
know that he was acting exactly as he was expected to in this critical
situation.
     He saw Adama's pod at the back end of the room and with a firmness
in his walk, came over and knelt next to him.
     "Adama?" he asked as gently as he could.
     The half-dilated eyes opened, and the Commander barely tilted his
head a fraction of an inch, "Tigh?" the voice was still the same awful
rasp he had heard on the bridge.
     "I understand they're going to fix you up," the executive officer
injected a tiny positive inflection into his voice.
     "How...bad is it, Tigh?"
     "You'll come through just fine," he smiled faintly at his long-time
friend, "Just fine."
     "Not me," the commander rasped, "The ship?"
     Tigh hesitated slightly.
     "I...know about the fire."
     The executive officer gave up trying to show any false bravado. 
Honesty was one of the qualities Adama had always admired in Tigh, and he
decided it would be more shameful to abandon that now.
     "It's bad," Tigh's voice became grave, "Very bad.  It's headed for
both the Energizer and the solium tanks. We...thought we had it solved,
but the plan failed.  We can't put the fire out."
     Adama said nothing.
     "I'm sorry, Adama," Tigh's shoulders sagged slightly and he looked
down at the floor, "I've done all I possibly can to try and save her, but
I'm afraid I've failed.  I'm sorry, I let you down."
     "Tigh."
     The executive officer found himself unable to look at him.
     "Look...at me, Tigh," a harder edge entered Adama's barely audible
rasp, and Tigh finally forced himself to look at him again.
     "It's a...terrible situation.  But...there's still a way."
     The executive officer frowned and leaned closer to him.
     "A...drastic way...If all else has failed...let the vacuum of
space...smother it."
     "You mean blow the hull?" Tigh asked.
     "Yes," Adama motioned his head a fraction of an inch, "Explosive
charges on the hull...Blow hole...Deprive the fire of oxygen."
     "Adama," Tigh said patiently, "Doing that carries an enormous risk
that could destroy us anyway."
     "How?"
     "Using explosives on the hull runs the risk of further weakening the
structural integrity of this ship in too many areas."
     "Not if...precise," even in this sorry condition, Adama's mind was
still able to explain things with precision, "Keep charges and explosion
in limited area of fire...Only way."
     Tigh found it impossible to debate the point and nodded, "You're
right.  We've no other options left us.  It's got to be done," he then
looked down at him again, "But there may be a lot of people trapped in
the fire zones.  Blowing the hull could kill them all."
     Adama looked him in the eye, "Do...you...really believe Boxey...and
Athena are still alive?"
     Tigh didn't change his expression, "You know?"
     The commander's eyes closed, "I...overheard a great deal...when I
was supposed to be resting...Poor warrior who'd...tried to rescue them
when it started...told Apollo."
     "Sergeant Kulanda."
     "Make sure...he's put down for decoration."
     "I will," Tigh nodded, "Adama, right now we're not sure about them. 
But Apollo thinks that they might try to send Muffit through one of the
ducts.  If he gets through, we'll send them back some oxygen masks."
     "That daggit's...remarkable," a wry edge entered the raspy tone,
"Should...be able...to do it."
     "I hope so," Tigh said, "I hope so."
     Cassiopeia then came over to them and placed a hand on the back end
of the life pod.
     "It's time, Colonel," she said.
     As Cassiopeia and another med-tech started to pull the pod away to
the operating theater, the executive officer looked at Adama one last
time.
     "I'll get to work on the plan now, Adama," he said with a sense of
firmness that was more genuine than when he'd entered the room, "The best
people will be on it."

********************

     As the executive officer left the Life Station, he immediately saw
Apollo, Starbuck and Brie approaching.  He instantly held up a hand and
stopped them.
     "The commander's already being operated on," Tigh said, "You can't
see him."
     "I must," Apollo said calmly.
     "No you mustn't," Tigh raised his tone, "Because right now, I need
the three of you for the last chance we have at putting this fire out. 
Follow me to the bridge."
     Nothing further needed to be said, as the three warriors immediately
turned around and followed Tigh in the other direction.

********************

     "Here's how it'll work," Tigh said as the four of them hunched over
the computer monitor that displayed the Galactica's blueprints,  "Two
warriors in vacuum suits leave the ship through the emergency hatch
number fourteen, located here," he pointed to a spot along the hull that
was across from the port landing bay wing.
     "Uh, did you say two warriors, sir?" Starbuck asked as he wondered
what sort of thing he was going to get into this time.
     "Yes, two warriors, Lieutenant," Tigh was blunt, "Bennann has
already lost nearly a dozen men, and all the Maintenance people who
aren't dealing with things in here have been sent in to back him up.  And
since you warriors have as much EVA training as they do..."
     "I think I get the picture, Colonel," Starbuck said with
resignation.
     Tigh nodded and went back to the blueprints.
     "At a series of points on top of the hull running from hatch
fourteen to hatch nineteen, and across to the top of the landing bay,
explosive charges will be set.  These will blow holes that will end up
exposing both sections of Alpha Deck, as well as the landing bay, to the
vacuum and put out the fire."
     The three warriors stared at the diagram intently.
     "Colonel," Apollo said, "If people are in a compartment where the
fire hasn't penetrated so far, they'd be safe from the explosions,
wouldn't they?"
     "No, because there is a danger factor from the potential loss of
pressure," Tigh was blunt, "If the explosion causes their compartment
door to collapse, then they'd be exposed to the same vacuum putting out
the fire zone.  Lifemasks would be useless for them.  I'm afraid it's a
risk we're just going to have to take."
     "I understand," Apollo nodded, "How many charges will be needed?"
     "Twelve high level ones.  And they have to be placed exactly right."
     "Starbuck?" Apollo glanced wryly at his friend who shrugged.
     "I know I'm a fool," he sighed, "But I'm ready to give it a try."
     "Very well," Tigh said, "Brie, get your viper ready.  You'll be
monitoring Starbuck and Apollo's progress as they work their way along
the hull."
     "Yes, Colonel," Brie nodded.
     Just then, Omega came up with another report, "Colonel, the
temperature reading in the Energizer room just entered the danger mark. 
The same with the solium tanks."
     "Time's running out," Tigh said to the three warriors, "Get going."
     As the three of them moved out, Apollo cast a quick and forlorn
glance at the duct.  Then, he suddenly stopped and let out an
exclamation, "Of course, mushies!"
     "Huh?" Starbuck frowned, "How can you think about mushies at a time
like this?"
     "Colonel," Apollo turned back to Tigh, "Trust me on this.  Boxey
trained Muffy to sniff out mushies.  Put a plate of them under this duct,
and it'll lead him straight to here like a beacon."
     Tigh looked at him with a dubious expression.
     "I'm serious, Colonel, do it!"
     "Okay," the executive officer slowly nodded, "Consider it done.  Now
in the meantime, you get your astrum down to hatch fourteen, now!"
     "Yes sir!" Apollo's tone was brighter than it had been in a long
while as he turned and left the bridge with Starbuck and Sheba trailing.
     "Omega," Tigh said with perfect seriousness, although he almost
found it difficult to keep a straight face, "Have some...mushies sent up
here, immediately."
     The bridge officer didn't even try to keep a straight face as he
nodded and went off to carry out the order.

********************

Chapter Thirty-One: Climax Of The crisis

     "We've reached the final fall-back positions, Colonel," there was a
note of exhaustion in Bennann's voice for the first time all day, "From
this point on, my men can only stand where they are until the fire
overtakes them."
     "That won't be necessary, Bennann," Tigh said over headset, "In
another fifteen centons, you're to pull all your teams out."
     There was a brief pause, as the Chief Firefighter wondered if his
headset was now being affected by the heat.
     "Could you repeat that, Colonel?"
     "You heard me," the executive officer was firm, "In fifteen centons,
you're to get all your men off Alpha Deck.  We're setting charges to the
hull outside, and hoping to put out the fire by exposing the areas to the
vacuum.  Your fire suits aren't strong enough to handle the pressure
loss, so you'll have to be out of there before we blow those charges."
     "Yes, it's pretty obvious that's the only option you've got left,"
Bennann admitted. "Colonel, when will the charges be blown?"
     "Right now, the best estimate is about twenty to twenty five
centons."
     "Well if that's the case Colonel, you'll have to give us more than
fifteen until we evacuate," the Chief Firefighter protested, "Leaving
this fire unattended for ten centons or even five is going to cause this
ship to go up before you have the charges ready."
     "You need a safety factor Jorda, or else there's no way you'll get
off that deck alive before the charges blow."
     "Well in the interest of survival Colonel, that safety factor is
going to be lowered.  I'll start removing those who aren't manning the
boraton, but the hoses in our final lines of defense are staying until
the last possible micron."
     "Bennann," Tigh said patiently, "I'll cut as much slack as I
possibly can, but the micron I give the final order to go, I expect you
to obey it."
     "And if I don't follow it and the gamble doesn't pay off, what's my
punishment going to be, Colonel?" Bennann sarcastically retorted, "No
honor guard for my funeral?"
     Tigh slowly shook his head in exasperation, and decided that the
Chief Firefighter had been through too much to merit a harsh response.
     "Bennann," he said calmly, "Just don't take any unnecessary risks. 
Keep this channel open at all times."
     "Yes sir," Bennann sighed, "Standing by."
     As soon as Tigh ended the conversation he turned around and saw a
sheepish Omega holding a tray with more than twelve large pieces of the
popular sweet-smelling blue candy.
     "The mushies sir," he said as he handed it to Tigh, "As requested."
     Tigh rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief as he took the
tray and gently set it down on the inside of the duct.
     "Omega," he said, "In the midst of all this destruction, why do I
suddenly feel like a character in the middle of an Aquarian situation
comedy?"

********************

     In the operating section of the Life Station, Adama's pod had been
moved into position.  Cassiopeia had already gone through the Hypersonic
Scrub procedure and donned her mask and gown, and now stood over Adama as
she waited for Salik.
     "We'll be applying the anesthesia in a few microns, Commander."
     Adama didn't open his eyes, "Salik...is good.  I'm not... afraid."
     "Of course," Cassiopeia smiled behind her mask, "When you wake up,
you'll be fine, the Galactica will be fine, Boxey and Athena will be
waiting to talk to you, and you'll meet Princess Alpha."
     "The...hand of the Lord...is with us," he whispered, "He's...
protected us...all this time.  He won't...forsake us now...Not when our
journey...isn't finished."
     Cassiopeia then lowered the anesthetic mask over Adama's nose and
mouth.  Adama's labored words then ceased as he drifted out into
unconsciousness.
     Salik then entered the room in full surgical garb.
     "All right," he said in the same professional tone he adopted before
every operation he'd ever performed, "Let's get started."

********************

     The heat inside the storage compartment grew ever more oppressive,
as Boomer finally discarded his flight jacket.  Four of the twenty people
had now succumbed to the increasingly unbearable conditions and slipped
into unconsciousness, and Boomer knew that without additional oxygen, it
would only be a matter of time before their unconscious sleep would slip
another level into death.
     He almost wondered if he should envy them.  At least they wouldn't
have to be awake and feel the increased terror within, as the oxygen
continued to dissipate and the danger of suffocation became more real. 
     Or if that didn't come first, they didn't have to be terrified by
the sight of the smoke coming through the door and wondering when the
power of the fire on the other side would explode through the door and
burn them to death in a terrible wall of flame.
     He looked back at the duct.  Muffit had been gone almost a centar
now.  He had to admit that it seemed more likely now that the gamble he'd
tried had failed.  They were still stranded at the bottom of the Piscean
Grand Canyon and hadn't been able to climb an inch.
     I should tear that fracking Wilker's head off, he thought.  He's the
one who built that damned daggit, couldn't he at least have designed it
to do something better than learn how to sniff out a mushy?
     Boomer abruptly shook his head and took a breath.  He realized that
his mind was starting to drift off as he grew more starved for oxygen. 
He couldn't afford to let that happen.  Not yet.
     He looked over at Athena.  The commander's daughter had placed a
protective arm around Boxey, who was now clinging to his aunt with a
sense of increased fear.
     The little boy had been through a lot in his short life.  He had
faced the prospect of sudden violent death not once, but three times: 
     ---On Caprica, when, during the Holocaust, the Cylon fighters
leveling Caprica City had streaked over his head, and his mother Serina
had dragged him out of the way before one of the downtown structures had
toppled and collapsed in the Plaza  where the worthless sign PEACE had
been spelled out.
     ---On Carillon, where the little boy's love for his daggit had led
him to wander off deep into the reaches of the planet where the Cylon
patrols were waiting to spring their trap on the people who had gathered
there.
     ---On Equis, when his inquisitive sense of adventure led him to stow
away on the shuttlecraft taking the team of warriors to that planet for
their dangerous mission of destroying the deadly Cylon supergun.
     But as he looked at Boxey and saw how the little boy's arms were
tightly wrapped around Athena, Boomer had the feeling that in spite of
all those hellish, past experiences, this was the first time that Boxey
truly felt afraid.
     Then again, he thought further,I've  been through even more hellish
experiences as a warrior.  And while I've long-known what it felt like to
be afraid, I can't help but think that when compared to the prospect of
being blasted out of the sky by a Cylon fighter, or shot in the chest by
a centurion, this is by far, a more frightening way to die.
     He settled down between Athena and the still-comatose Alpha and let
out a sigh.
     "You know," he said aloud, "I almost feel insulted.  I took my
warrior's oath and said I'd be willing to die for the Colonial nation,
but the storage closet of the Rejuvenation Center wasn't quite what I had
in mind."
     Athena let out a grim chuckle as she continued to stroke Boxey's
head.  Once again, Boomer had demonstrated that he certainly didn't have
any kind of deathwish inside him.
     Not at all like Apollo, she thought.
     She looked down at Boxey and another troubling thought went through
her:  If we fail to make it, will the subconscious desire for death that
I'm convinced lurks somewhere inside my brother, suddenly become more
manifest?
     As if she were already accepting the inevitable about their fate,
she suddenly found herself praying more for Apollo than for themselves.

********************

     Apollo and Starbuck entered the airlock that led to hatch number
fourteen.  With the swiftness instilled in them by their warrior
training, they had their bulky vacuum suits on in less than two centons.
     Before putting the clear helmets on, Apollo opened the box they had
picked up in the Ordinance section.  Inside were twelve, hand-shapes
high-level explosive charges.
     "We each take six," he said, "Attach three on each side of your
suit."
     Starbuck pulled one out and attached it to the velcro backing on the
upper left side of his suit, "Boy, this sure gives new meaning to
carrying a lot of firepower on you."
     Apollo rolled his eyes and adjusted his headset.
     "Colonel Tigh, this is Apollo.  We should be away in another centon. 
Tell Brie to launch and wait for us."
     "Affirmative."
     "Any sign of Muffit?" he added.
     Tigh sighed, hating to give the answer he now had to make, "No
Apollo.  And I have to be blunt with you.  In another fifteen centons,
I'm having all the ducts leading from the fire areas sealed off.  If the
explosions work, we have to keep the vacuum from getting into the other
areas of the ship."
     Apollo lowered his head in dejection.  Once again, the sickening
image of Hardall and Dion flashed through his head, and with it the
increased anxiety he felt about Athena and Boxey.
     "I understand," he said calmly, "Will report again as soon as we're
on the hull."
     He cast a glance at Starbuck, who had finished attaching the rest of
the charges to his suit and was looking at him with concern.
     "Come on buddy," Starbuck said gently.  "Keep a stiff upper lip."
     Apollo smiled reassuringly as his professional instincts returned to
him, and he lowered his helmet on to his head.

********************

     "You're cleared to launch, Brie," Tigh radioed, "Assume position at
contact range of eight microns from hull.  Stay in holding pattern until
further notice."
     There was no response as Brie hit the launch button and her viper
roared off.
     Tigh calmly adjusted his headset as he heard the static from her
viper launch crackle through his ears.  He then frowned and tugged at it
again.  It almost sounded as if the static was lingering longer than it
should have.
     But then, Tigh's frown deepened when he realized that the lingering
sound wasn't coming from his headset but was coming from behind him.
     "Colonel, look!" Omega blurted.
     The executive officer turned around and did a double-take when he
saw the sight of an orange robot daggit in the duct, bumping into the
tray of mushies and sending it to the floor with a loud crash.
     "I don't believe it," he said as he and the bridge officer dashed up
to the duct and took Muffit out, "It actually worked."
     "There's a message on him," Omega took the rolled-up piece of paper
out of Muffit's collar and handed it to Tigh.
     "'Twenty people cut off in storage compartment three, adjacent to
Rejuvenation Center,'" Tigh read aloud, "'Eight injured. Princess Alpha
overcome by smoke, but probably still alive.  Only five lifemasks.  Air
becoming unbreathable.  Athena and Boxey safe at present.  Need
additional lifemasks and instructions-Boomer.'"
     The executive officer looked at Omega with an increased sense of
urgency, "Put forty lifemasks in a bag, and get some string to tie on to
his tail."
     Omega nodded and ran off to the storage locker on the other side of
the bridge.
     Tigh incredulously shook his head as he patted Muffit's head and
then picked up one of the mushies that had fallen out of the tray.
     "Saved by a mushy," he said under his breath, "I am living in an
Aquarian situation comedy."

********************

     "Beta Zone report."
     "She's getting closer sir," Ephas replied, "Won't be much longer and
another flare-up's going to blow the Energizer door off."
     "Stand by," Jorda switched frequencies, "Gamma Zone, report."
     "The flare-ups have been quiet over here, sir," this from Fabamant.
"I think we've slowed the momentum again but the bulkhead wall has really
taken a bad beating."
     Bennann stopped to think as his mind went over the blueprints of the
Galactica he'd been studying earlier.
     Suddenly, he snapped his fingers in spite of his thick gloves, "
Fabamant, listen up.  There's an auxiliary turbo-lift on the other side
of the solium tanks.  As soon as I get word from Tigh that half of the
explosives are in place, I want you to put all your effort into getting
that wall down, and part of the ceiling.  Get it to block the corridor
and act as a temporary fire wall.  As soon as you've done that, leave
your hose valves in the on position and get over to that lift and get off
this deck as fast as you can."
     "Sir, that wall wouldn't last more than five centons as a barrier."
     "That's long enough," Bennann said, "I don't want the fire in that
zone to accelerate once I have to pull your group out of there.  Just
stand by for now."
     The lights above the Chief Bennann suddenly dimmed again, and stayed
out for two long microns before coming on again.
     "Beta Zone?" he urgently signaled.
     "We're okay, sir," Ephas nervously exhaled, "It didn't blow the door
open, but the next one just might."
     "I'm on my way over," Bennann said and then turned to Doega and the
other firefighter still stationed at the hose control system.
     "Okay, that's it men.  Nothing more to do here.  We're going to
pitch in and help Ephas' team right up to the last possible micron."

********************

     "Vitalizing knife-cutter, please," Salik extended his gloved hand.
     Cassiopeia handed him the instrument that would enable him to make
the precise incision in Adama's chest that would open only the amount of
the heart that needed to be exposed.
     Another one of the miracles of modern medicine that he had spoken of
with pride to Apollo, long ago in the day.  As a medical student, Salik
had always been horrified by the accounts in his textbooks of how
operations, especially those on the heart and the brain, had been
conducted in the fourth and fifth millennias.  In those days, the tools
were all non-electronic, and little more than crudely forged pieces of
metal with handles made of cheap plastic.  Sterility of equipment was an
unknown concept, and viral infections following an operation were a
frequent side-effect of even the most successful ones.
     He'd often met his share of people who expressed a yearning to live
in the simpler times of the past, at times he even sensed it in Apollo,
but Salik was never impressed by any of their argument.  As far as he was
concerned, if the Lord had fated him to be a part of the medical
profession, then the first debt of thanks he owed to the Lord was that
he'd also been fated to be a man of the seventh millennium.
     As he turned the vitalizing knife-cutter on and held it above
Adama's body, the lights suddenly dimmed and went out.  The pulsing tone
of the equipment again slowed down to that annoying muffle.
     Salik and Cassiopeia were both silent as their eyes darted about the
room.  They were both too tense to say anything.
     Then, after two microns, the lights came back on and the equipment
again returned to its normal tone.
     Cassiopeia calmly looked him in the eye, "If that happens again
while you're probing the heart wall..." she trailed off.
     "I know," Salik nodded, "There'll be no way of getting it out,
closing him up, or keeping the anesthesia flow going."
     The med-tech had long ago learned not to intimidated by Salik's
occasionally graphic descriptions.  It was all a part of the learning
process for her.  If she wanted to advance to an even greater position in
medicine, she had to learn to feel no emotions over something like that
at all.  Not even when the subject was about someone as dear to her as
Commander Adama.
     Slowly, Salik lowered the instrument to within an inch of Adama's
chest and activated the incisor beam.

********************

     Omega sprinted back to Tigh, carrying the bag filled with lifemasks. 
The executive officer had just finished scribbling another note, and had
attached it to Muffit's metallic collar.
     "I hope he gets back there in time," Tigh gritted his teeth as he
and Omega tied the strings on the bag to the daggit's tail, "Ten more
centons, and I'm shutting off the ducts."
     Once he was certain that the bag was firmly attached, he knelt down
in front of the robot.
     "Muffit," he said as firmly as he'd spoken with Admiral Zhark, "Go
back to Boxey.  Boxey.  Go back quickly to Boxey.  Now."
     The daggit let out a yelp and almost instinctively jumped back into
the duct.  Tigh and Omega kept their eye on Muffit until it was gone from
view.
     He then moved back to the main computer console and switched on his
headset again.
     "Apollo?"
     "We're suited up, Colonel," Apollo answered, "We're depressurizing
the airlock and should open the hatch in another centon."
     "I have good news," Tigh said, "Muffit finally showed up.  We just
sent him back with forty lifemasks."
     A relieved sigh suddenly filled Tigh's headset.
     "See, I told you!" Starbuck chimed in, and the executive officer
could picture him grinning and giving his friend a nudge, "There was
nothing to worry about after all."
     "We've finally done all we can for them, Apollo," Tigh added, "From
here on in, their survival is all in your hands."
     As he switched the frequency off, Omega looked up at the executive
officer with a small amount of concern.
     "Sir," the bridge officer asked, "Do you think that was a good idea? 
That last remark?"
     "With anyone else, no," Tigh responded, "But Apollo's different. 
Knowing he's in control of the fates somehow makes him a model of
precision."

********************

     Slowly, Brie brought her viper into position just above the section
of the hull where Apollo and Starbuck would soon emerge.  She felt much
more emotionally tense than she had been during either the battle or the
strafing run.  In both of those instances, she had been able to bury her
inner emotions by concentrating on the tasks that were at hand.  But this
time,  her only task was to watch and wait, and as a result, she felt
those emotions much more difficult to contain.
     "I'm now in position, Colonel," she radioed.
     "Affirmative," Tigh replied, "Apollo and Starbuck have opened the
hatch.  They should be emerging any micron now."
     She looked down at hatch number fourteen, located some four  hundred
feet across from the port landing bay wing.  A large number of hatches
and handrails dotted the battlestar's exterior.  They had been designed
to allow easy access for external maintenance crews whenever the
Galactica had returned home to the massive space repair station on
Caprica for refitting and repair.
     Slowly, the hatch door slid open and a figure wearing a bulky vacuum
suit, glided weightlessly out, followed immediately by another.
     "I've sighted them now, I won't take my eyes off them for even a
micron," Brie then strained her eyes forward and frowned, "Colonel,
they're not using any tethers."
     "Apollo?  Starbuck?" the executive officer radioed back with
concern. "I specifically ordered you two to be securely tethered to the
ship.  Explain."
     "Yes, Colonel," Apollo answered, "We already decided that the
weightlessness is going to slow us down too much as it is.  Using the
tethers would delay us even longer."
     Brie felt her mouth go slightly dry and swallowed.  By not using
their tethers, the two warriors ran the risk of flying off the surface of
the Galactica right out into space.
     "Plan understood and approved," Tigh said, "You and Starbuck get
started now.  The temperature areas in both the Energizer room and the
solium tanks are a micron away from jumping into the critical zones."
     "We'll go as fast as we can, Colonel," Apollo said as he took hold
of the handrail on the top of hatch fourteen and motioned to his friend,
"Okay, Starbuck, let's get moving.  The first charges go about ten feet
in front of the hatch, right there."
     "I'm right with you," Starbuck's nervous breathing was much more
evident as he carefully maneuvered himself down to the next handrail.
With his left hand on the rail, he gently removed the charge on the upper
right side of his suit with his other hand.
     He could feel the powerful force of weightlessness trying to throw
him off the great battlestar, and it was a struggle to completely block
that sensation from his mind and proceed.
     Slowly, he placed the first charge down and flicked the power
switch.  It was now active.
     He glanced over at Apollo, who was twenty feet across from him and
had placed his first charge down as well.
     Above, Brie's mounting tension and concern finally cracked through,
"Don't get careless," she said, "You could lose your grip just once and
you'll be floating through space for eternity."
     "Yeah, thanks for the timely word of warning, Brie," Starbuck
replied with a tinge of sarcasm as the nervous sensation shot through him
again.
     Brie let out an inaudible sigh as she locked her viper control into
neutral.  Concerned as she might have been about Starbuck, the brash
lieutenant's hunch was entirely correct.
     Slowly, one handrail at a time, the two warriors glided their way
over to the next position, twenty feet down toward the landing bay wing.

********************

     Bennann had reached Beta Zone, where Ephas' team continued
struggling to hold off the increased charge of the flames.  It was
reaching the point where even inside his well-insulated suit, the Chief
Firefighter could feel his skin start to blister slightly.
     "Pour more hose on!" he motioned Doega and the other new arrivals
from the hose control station.
     Two new jets of boraton were added to the mix, but the fire had now
reached the point where it didn't even seem to hold up the inferno's
progress.
     "Colonel, are they at the halfway point yet?" he radioed, "I have to
know before I make a move in Gamma Zone." 
     "Not yet," Tigh replied, "I'll signal you when they are.  In the
meantime, I'm having all the ducts leading from the fire zones shut off. 
Make sure all your men have lifemasks on, now."
     "Yes sir, we've already done that," the Chief Firefighter switched
frequencies, "Fabamant?"
     "Getting worse sir," the alarm was increasing in his voice, "We'd
like to get that bulkhead wall down, now."
     "Not yet!" Bennann fired back, "Not until I tell you!  You start on
that thing too soon, and you're as good as signing this ship's death
warrant!"
     His angry words immediately left their mark on Fabamant.  When the
fireman replied, his tone was much more resigned, "Yes sir. We--frack,
another flare-up!"
     Bennann tensed himself and waited for Fabamant to speak again.
     "We're okay sir," Fabamant spoke after a delay, "But I think you now
understand why we're anxious to get started."
     "I know," the Chief Firefighter admitted and sucked in his breath as
the fire grew closer toward him, "I know.  Standby."

********************

     "Colonel," Omega pointed to the temperature monitors for both the
Energizer and solium rooms.
     Tigh grimly shook his head as he saw the needle for the solium room
jump in to the critical red zone.  Once it moved further into that color
zone, that would be the end of things.
     "Apollo's moving on to his third position," Brie's voice filled his
headset, "Starbuck's just finishing the second."
     "Apollo?" the executive officer tried not to sound impatient, "How
much longer?"
     "Just another fifteen centons, Colonel."
     "Right now, I don't think you have it," he responded, "The solium
tanks just went into the critical zone."
     "Boy, we're sure surrounded by some real confidence-boosters, aren't
we?" Starbuck let out another chuckle over his nervous breaths. 
"Colonel, if time does run out, then could we just explode the charges
already in place?" 
     "Negative Starbuck" Tigh shook his head vigorously, "If we don't
blow them in exactly the calculated pattern, the hull will not be opened
sufficiently to smother the fire.  It has to be all twelve of them, and
it has to be in time.  Now notify me as soon as you're at the halfway
point."
     The executive officer then moved over to the duct where Muffit had
disappeared on his journey back with the lifemasks.  He then took a
breath and came back to Omega's console.
     "One more centon, and I'm closing the ducts," he said, "That daggit
had better be back there now."

********************

     Boomer felt increasingly dizzy as he loosened the collar of his
tunic in response to the heat.  It was getting more and more unbearable.
     He was almost prepared to accept the idea that the end of the line
had come for him.  If that was the case, he supposed he could look back
on his life with no regrets.  He'd enjoyed himself.  He'd excelled at the
profession he'd chosen.  There wasn't much to regret.
     No, he thought.  There was one regret.  With the end fast
approaching, he could now openly chide himself for never having had the
strength to ask the beautiful female pilot Dietra out for a quiet dinner
on the Rising Star.
     He knew he was drifting off into that lightheaded condition that was
said to be the first step toward death.  But if it numbed him to what
would come afterwards, perhaps that was a blessing.  Yes, he could feel
it increasing.  He was even starting to hear funny noises.  Almost
like...a daggit?
     "Muffy!" Boxey suddenly bolted up from Athena's side.
     The boy's exclamation shook Boomer back into the realm of
comprehension.  His mouth dropped open when he saw the robot daggit climb
out of the vent and into the storage compartment, a large bag trailing
from his tail.
     "Thank God," Athena whispered, "Thank God."
     As Boxey hugged his pet, Boomer and several of the non-injured
prisoners removed the bag and spilled its precious contents of lifemasks
out on to the floor.  He immediately grabbed one and strapped it over his
mouth and nose.
     The cool, crisp sensation of the fresh oxygen was the most rapturous
thing he'd felt in his entire life as it suddenly blew all of the
lightheadedness and dizziness out.  In a micron, Boomer had regained all
of his critical faculties.
     "Get them passed around!" he barked as he placed one on Boxey and
handed two to Athena, who put one over Alpha's mouth and nose.  "Looks as
though they gave us two each."
     He placed his hands on Muffit, looking for some kind of note.  Below
the robot's neck, he found it jammed into one of the collars.
     Before he got it opened, the door to the vent from which Muffit had
only just emerged from, suddenly slammed shut with a loud thud.
     Boomer looked down at the daggit and shook his head, "Muffy, your
timing is impeccable as usual."
     "Boomer, what's going on?" Athena came up to him with her mask now
firmly in place.
     "Sealing the vents, they must be planning something drastic," he
then opened the paper.
     "Everyone, listen!" Athena raised her voice.
     With everyone now wearing their lifemasks, a hush came over the
room.
     "'Fire out of control and threatening both Energizer and solium
tanks,'" Boomer read aloud, "'Hull is being blasted open to smother fire
in all sections.  Rescue teams will be sent in as soon as compartment
corridors next to you are repressurized-Tigh.'"
     A low murmur went up from the crowd.
     "Okay, brace yourselves everyone," Boomer said, "We just have to sit
tight, and wait.  If the doors on either side of us don't stand-up to the
explosions, then that's it.  If we come through though, then we'll just
sit tight and wait.  They gave us an extra mask each, so it could be up
to two centars before they're here.  In the meantime, get yourselves
ready."
     Boomer moved back to the other end of the room and settled down next
to Athena.
     "Blowing charges on the hull," he sighed, "How much are you  willing
to bet that Starbuck and Apollo are not out there doing that as we
speak?"
     The commander's daughter smiled and shook her head, "The same amount
I was willing to bet that the Cylons would give you a birthday party."
     He smiled back at her, "Looks as though you did learn something from
dating Starbuck after all."
     " 'Even amidst the darkest and most tumultuous of storms lie shining
jewels of wisdom,'" Athena recited with mock solemnity.
     For the first time since before the attack, Boomer felt comfortable
to laugh heartily. "Athena, remind me to tell you someday how much I've
hated Aquarian proverbs since the day I was first told to read them in
primary school."
     Just then, Boxey came back over to them, a look of pure pride on his
face as Muffit trailed him.
     "See that, Boomer?" he settled between the two of them, and his
voice brightened for the first time in a long while, "I told you Muffy
would come through."
     "He sure did, Boxey," the warrior smiled as he patted the daggit's
head.
     Well, Boomer thought to himself, looks as though I'll now be seeing
Wilker to shake his hand rather than tear off his head.

********************

     "Suction compress," Salik said with calm precision as he studied the
right atrium of Adama's heart.  The small piece of shrapnel, a broken
rivet from the bridge ceiling, was now plainly in view.
     Cassiopeia handed him the device and the surgeon delicately lowered
to within a fraction of an inch above the piece of metal.   He then
activated the switch, and with the gentle current flowing through the
instrument, the metallic fragment suddenly lifted itself very slowly from
Adama.
     Without brushing further against the right atrium, just as
theinstrument was designed to prevent it from doing, the fragment locked
tightly in place to the instrument's clamp.
     Slowly, Salik pulled the clamp from out of the open heart are.
     When it was finally away, Salik seemed to exhale behind his mask.
     "Okay," he sounded more relieved, "Apply massage, and then prepare
to close him up."
     Behind her mask, Cassiopeia allowed herself a faint smile.  Once
again, Salik was demonstrating why she admired him so much.  She looked
down at Adama and slowly felt a sense of relief come over her.  The worst
of the operation was now over.
     But then again, the med-tech thought further as she handed Salik the
device that would massage Adama's heart back to a normal rhythm, there
was still the danger that after all this work, Fate could still play a
cruel trick on them all if the ship itself didn't pull through.

********************

     It was getting more and more unbearable for Fabamant's team as they
continued to fight the blaze in Gamma Section, and anxiously awaited the
signal to start getting the bulkhead down.
     Finally, Fabamant heard the words from Bennann go through his
headset, "Okay, they're at the halfway point!  Get that bulkhead down,
now!"
     "Thank you, sir!" Fabamant allowed himself a smile of relief, as he
turned to Arones, "Okay, let's get on it!"
     The two of them now aimed their boraton hoses at the top of the
ceiling and along the walls instead of at the blaze just fifteen feet
away.  From behind, Firefighter Lightilles had abandoned his position at
the pump station and had trudged his way through the mist where he
started pulling at the loosened sections.
     "Watch your footing!" Fabamant warned, as the memory of Dion flashed
through his mind.
     Finally, after another two centons of effort, the ceiling and walls
of the corridor bulkhead groaned in agony as the stress of the fire and
boraton pressure finally took their toll on them.  Lightilles carefully
started to back away, as the noise of the metal groan increased.
     The ceiling and walls then collapsed in directly in front of the
fire, forming a barrier against the blaze.  Abruptly, the intensity of
the heat against Fabamant's skin slackened just a bit.  But it was clear
that the debris would only hold the blaze back for a few centons at best,
before its massive power would then roar through and continue its deadly
journey toward the solium tanks.
     As Lightilles drew closer to them, another piece of ceiling debris
suddenly fell and landed on his back, knocking the firefighter to the
floor.
     "Frack!" Fabamant dropped his still active hose and agonizingly made
his way forward.  Lightilles was clearly unconscious from the blow.
     "Give me a hand with him!" he shouted at Arones.
     Even before he had spoken, the other veteran of the pump retrieval
mission had dropped his hose and made his way forward.  Amidst the flood
of boraton that now swirled around their ankles against the barrier, it
was a slow struggle to get the unconscious Lightilles to his feet, so
they could start dragging him out.
     "Fabamant?" Bennann's voice shouted through the headset, "Fabamant,
report!"
     The firefighter barely got hold of his headset to make the
adjustment as he continued to help Arones drag Lightilles forward, "It's
in place, sir. We're evacuating now!"
     A jet of flame roared against the barrier on the other side. 
Already, the temporary barrier had begun to lose its effectiveness as a
trickle of flame made it through the openings and grazed against
Fabamant's insulated suit.
     "Come on!" he shouted, "Move it!"
     As the doors to the solium tank room loomed closer, he wondered if
Fate was going to play the same cruel joke on him that it had done for
Hardall and Dion.
     Finally, like reaching the light at the end of the tunnel, they made
their way past the boraton flow.  Arones activated the door to the solium
room and the two firemen dragged their injured comrade inside.
     Fabamant cast a glance at the large solium tanks around them, each
one filled with its lethal contents that would turn the Galactica into a
supernova as soon as the fire outside reached the interior of this room. 
The sight of them towering around him, and the realization of what they
could do was almost enough to unnerve him completely.
     "Get the lift open," he gestured to Arones, "I'll manage him."
     Arones nodded and dashed over to the other side of the room.
Fabamant threw off the hood of his fire suit, as well as Lightilles' and
began to slowly carry the unconscious firefighter's body across.
     Ahead, Arones had reached the turbo-lift door and was standing
inside, a look of frantic tension on his face.
     It was not going to be a swift journey across.
     He heard a crashing sound from behind and his heart skipped a beat. 
The barrier was clearly weakening further.

********************

     "We're clearing out of Gamma Zone, Colonel.  We'll stick it out in
Beta Zone a bit longer."
     "Okay, Bennann," Tigh's heart was starting to pound faster as he
kept his eye on the temperature monitors.  The solium room had leveled
off after entering the critical zone, but the Energizer room level was
creeping further and further into the red.
     "Finishing level four," Brie's voice had gone up a degree of
anxiety, "Now moving toward the landing bay wing and level five."
     "Apollo?" the executive officer radioed.
     "It'll be five more centons, Colonel."
     Tigh kept staring at the temperature gauges, "If I had a choice, I'd
say no.  But I don't have a choice, so keep at it."
     Slowly, Apollo and Starbuck made their way down the side of the
battlestar toward the top of the landing bay wing.  Here, the external
damage caused the by Cylon fighter's impact was much more obvious. 
Several regions of the surface were already scarred by the force of the
initial explosions.
     "These last two zones are spaced relatively close," Apollo said as
Starbuck pulled alongside him.  The twenty-maxim gap between them when
they had set the earlier charges had now narrowed to only two, "Won't be
much longer."
     As Starbuck continued to make his way down the handrails, he grabbed
one that had been weakened from the original explosion.  The blackened
piece of metal instantly snapped off in his hand like a twig.
     "Apollo!" Starbuck shouted as the weightlessness started carrying
him away from the battlestar.
     Apollo looked up in horror.  He frantically pushed himself to the
next handrail and extended his other hand as far as nature would permit.
     He grabbed hold of Starbuck's foot and slowly pulled him back down
to the intact handrail below.
     Watching from above, Brie had felt her heart leap into her throat. 
As she saw Starbuck safely pulled back, she smiled and let out a more
pronounced sigh of relief.
     "Somehow, thank you doesn't seem like enough," Starbuck said, too
numb to make a joke.
     "Don't mention it," for the first time, the sound of Apollo's
nervous breath was audible, "We still have a lot of work to do."

********************

     Cassiopeia handed the micro sealer to Salik.  One final procedure,
and the operation would be over, and Adama's recovery all but assured.
     Slowly, the incision in Adama's chest was closed under the beam of
the micro sealer.  Again, Salik felt a debt of thanks to seventh
millennia equipment.  To think that there had actually been a time when
incisions had to be closed with stitches made from thread and string,
leaving ugly scars along the opening!  But with micro sealers, there was
never a trace of the operation left behind.  Not even an operation of
this magnitude.
     Finally, Salik shut off the instrument and pulled off his mask.
     "That's it," he sighed, "We've done it.  Get him back out into the
main room."
     Cassiopeia took hold of Adama's table and started pushing it out of
the area.  As she reached the end, the lights suddenly dimmed again. 
This time, they stayed out a full five microns before coming back on.
     Now that the operation was over, her sense of professional inner
calm evaporated.  For the first time since she'd been captured by the
Ovions on Carillon, a creeping sense of terror started to come over her.

********************

     "Get the turbo-lift ready,"Bennann motioned to Doega as he stared
down the corridor at the fast approaching wall of fire.
     Doega set down his hose and went over to the turbo-lift door just
ten feet further down from the Energizer door entrance.
     "Here comes another flare-up!" Ephas shouted and ducked.
     Bennann and the three other firefighters followed.
     This time, the jet of flame crashed into the Energizer door and
succeeded in blowing the compartment door clean out of its frame,
exposing the sleek piece of equipment to the path of the next flare.
     Above, the lights went out for five microns before coming back on.
     "That's it," the Chief Firefighter said through clenched teeth, "One
more flare, and it's the end of us all."
     "Sir!" Doega shouted as he stepped into the open lift, "Let's pull
out now!"
     "Not yet!" Bennann shouted back and shook his head vigorously, "Not
yet!"
     And then, the Chief Firefighter picked up Doega's discarded hose and
started working on the blaze himself.

********************

     "Move fast, Apollo," Tigh continued to feel his heart pound as he
saw the gauge for the Energizer continue to creep forward.  The solium
gauge had also started to inch forward again, "An extra micron could make
the difference."
     "We're setting the last ones now, Colonel," the tension was now
rising in his voice too.
     As Starbuck placed his last one on the top of the landing bay, he
then started to make his way back up the side in the direction of hatch
number twenty, which would serve as their re-entry point into the ship.
     "Apollo?" he called over.
     "My last two have magnetic bases, Starbuck," his friend replied,
"I'll pull myself across with them.  There's another handrail back to
hatch twenty on the other side."
     "Frack," his friend muttered under his breath.  His friend hadn't
told him that he'd saved the last two, more difficult charges for himself
to place.
     "Don't worry about me," Apollo went on, "I'll see you inside."
     But even though Starbuck managed to awkwardly wave back in
acknowledgment, inside he was deeply worried.  The way the explosives had
been divided up, Apollo had taken a far greater risk than he should have
allowed.
     Are you subconsciously trying to get yourself killed, buddy? he said
to himself.

********************

     "Come on," Arones gritted his teeth as he held the turbo-lift door
open and waited for Fabamant to finish his slow journey carrying the
unconscious Lightilles the rest of the way.
     From behind, they heard another violent crash.  Arones didn't need
more than a micron to realize that the fire barrier had collapsed.
     Five feet away, an exhausted and panting Fabamant set Lightilles
down on his feet and literally shoved the unconscious firefighter into
the door, where he collapsed on to the turbo-lift floor.
     Arones grabbed Fabamant by the hand and pulled him in.  He then
frantically pressed the buttons that would send the lift up three decks
to safety.
     As the doors slammed shut, the last thing Fabamant and Arones could
see in the solium room was the sight of the compartment door collapsing
on the other end.

********************

     "Colonel," Omega pointed to the gauges, "I think our time just ran
out."
     Tigh felt his breath quicken, "Bennann, evacuate all your remaining
men!  Now!" he shouted into his headset.

********************

     "All right, get out!  All of you into the turbo-lift!" Bennann
shouted over the roar.
     Ephas and the other two firefighters dropped their hoses and made
their way over to the lift where Doega waited.
     But the Chief Firefighter did not move from his position.  With his
hood off, and his teeth gritted with determination, he continued aiming
his boraton hose at the approaching inferno.
     "Sir!" Doega shouted, "Get in the lift!"
     "I'm keeping a stream on her!" Bennann didn't look back, "It's the
only way to keep that last flare from happening.  Never mind me, just go
now!"
     Doega looked at Ephas and the other two.  The three of them nodded
at him and motioned him out.
     "Sir!" Doega stepped out and took a step back towards Bennann, "We
are not leaving this deck without you, and you can't make us go!  We've
done all we can, now come with us!"
     Bennann angrily looked back at him as he kept his hose going, "I'm
giving you an order Doega!  Get off this deck now!"
     "Hades Hole, sir!" he shouted, "We're not going without you!"
     Just then, there was a groaning sound, as the ceiling and wall five
maxims ahead of them, abruptly caved in on the corridor.
     The approaching wall of fire had been temporarily stopped.
     Bennann's eyes widened in disbelief at the turn-of-events.
     "Sir!" Danta shouted again.
     This time, no prompting was needed.  The Chief Firefighter threw
down his hose and the two of them sprinted into the turbo-lift.
     Ephas set the lift to go three decks up as the doors slammed shut.
     The two fire areas were now devoid of all life except for the twenty
people trapped in the storage compartment.

********************

     With agonizing listlessness, Apollo used the metal bases of the two
charges to crawl over to the last spot on the landing bay where they
needed to be placed.
     He came to a stop and sized up the handrail thirty feet away that
would guide him back to hatch twenty.  He would have to time a leap for
it, and hope that he could grab hold of it before the force of
weightlessness carried him away from the battlestar.
     Apollo took a breath and let go of the charges.
     "I've got the last charges in position, Colonel!" he shouted as he
felt himself moving rapidly toward the handrail.
     He reached out to it.  His gloves grazed the top of it...and failed
to grab hold.
     From the handrail opposite him, Starbuck watched in horror as Apollo
suddenly began to tumble end over end above the hull of the battlestar.
     "Apollo!" he shouted in alarm. "Apollo!  Oh, God!"
     "No! Starbuck, don't try to help me, just  get inside," Apollo
roared back as he moved further away from the hull, "Those explosions are
going to go off any micron now.  There's nothing you can do!"
     "Wanna bet?" Starbuck retorted as he stood on top of the handrail
and suddenly vaulted himself forward in Apollo's direction.

********************

     Stunned by the exchange he had just heard, Tigh nonetheless wasted
no time.
     The executive officer took a breath and pressed the button
controlling the charges from the bridge.

********************

     All twelve of the charges went off at the same time.  Abruptly, an
explosion erupted along the surface of the battlestar that to Brie almost
rivaled the ones she had witnessed earlier in the day in intensity.
     Both turbo-lifts had just opened three decks up when the charges
went off.  The fire teams inside promptly spilled to the floor of the
corridor as they felt the rumble of the blast shake the deck plates
beneath their feet.
     Inside the storage compartment, Boomer could hear the blast and then
there was a whooshing rush from outside both doors as they heard the
sound of the pressure escaping.
     "Brace yourselves!" he shouted as he backed against the wall and
threw his arm around both Athena and Boxey in protective support, "Don't
anyone move a muscle!"  
     He looked at the door that led back to the Rejuvenation Center and
instantly noticed that the ominous smoke cloud that had been creeping
underneath for a long time, had stopped.
     "It's working!" Athena raised her voice cautiously, "The fire's
going out!"
     "Let's pray the doors don't either!"
     Overhead, Brie saw the blast column of the explosion dissipate, and
then focused her eyes on the landing bay entrance.
     The creepy orange radiance once again dimmed.  And then, it abruptly
went out.  But this time, it would not start up again. 
     The massive wall of fire that had taken the lives of more than a
dozen firemen and endangered the lives of a thousand crewmembers with a
terror that not even the mightiest Cylon basestar had before instilled,
died in the blink of an eye.

********************

     The force of the explosions were not felt at all on the bridge. 
Instead, Omega and Tigh both kept their eyes locked on the temperature
gauges for both the Energizer and the Solium.
     The needles that had been deep into the red zones abruptly descended
into the green zones.
     An exhilarated rush went through Tigh, "That did it!" he exclaimed,
"That did it!"
     A loud cheer mixed with a great deal of relief suddenly went up from
the rest of the bridge personnel, as though a bubble had finally burst.
     Omega burst into applause as he let out a loud, joyous laugh.
     But even as the realization that the massive fire was now just
another chapter in the ship's history, there was still one immediate area
of concern for the executive officer.
     "Apollo?" he blurted into his headset, "Starbuck?  Do either of you
copy?"
     There was no response.
     "Apollo?  Starbuck?" he repeated.

********************

     Brie had been stunned when she'd heard the exchange between Apollo
and Starbuck, and had then watched in horror as she saw them both
suddenly start rising like helium balloons into the sky before the
explosion caused her to lose sight of them.
     So great was her concern, that she didn't even feel much
exhilaration when she saw that the fire aboard the battlestar had gone
out.
     "Brie?" she heard Tigh's voice.
     "I," her voice broke slightly, "I can't see them anywhere, Colonel."
     "Good Lord," Tigh whispered, "The explosion must have killed them."
     "I don't buy it," she spoke defiantly. "Colonel, you can put me down
for insubordination, but I won't give up.  I'm going to stay out here
until I find them."
     Brie took her viper out of its holding position, switched on her
scanners and activated her turbos.

********************

     Three decks above the fire zones, the teams of firefighters slowly
got back to their feet.
     Doega immediately noticed that Bennann seemed too weak to get up.
     "Are you okay, sir?" he asked as he took him by the hand and pulled
the Chief Firefighter to a standing position.
     "I'm fine," Bennann's voice was reduced to a mere whisper. 
Instantly, Doega was amazed at how in a manner of minutes,Bennann had
been transformed from the grim and determined martyr he had tried to
become, to a seemingly spent and exhausted shell of his old decisive
self.
     "Sir," Doega took him by the arm as a concerned Ephas also stepped
in, "I think its safe to say that your job is done now.  I don't think
Colonel Tigh or anyone else is going to object if you go back to your
quarters and get some rest."
     Bennann calmly pushed them both aside.
     "There are still twenty people trapped down there in a storage
compartment," he said calmly, "I'm going to the bridge to get
instructions from Tigh on how we can help get them out."
     He then slowly trudged off to the turbo-lift at the other end of the
corridor.
     Behind him, Doega and Ephas both shook their heads in amazed
admiration and almost felt the urge to start clapping.

********************

     As the whooshing sound from outside the doors came to an end, Boomer
finally decided it was safe to get to his feet.  He made his way over and
carefully placed his hand on the door that had earlier caused him to
withdraw it in pain because of the intense heat.
     This time, the door felt intensely cold to the touch.
     "It's a total vacuum out there now," he said as he took another
breath through his mask and then faced the crowd.
     "Okay," he said, "The immediate danger is over.  The fire's out, and
we know they're going to try and send teams in here to get us out.  Now
obviously, it's going to take some time or they wouldn't have sent us the
extra masks.  For those of you who are injured, I know it's asking a lot
of you to have to wait some more.  But this time, I think we can all feel
a little secure that the worst danger has past, and that help will be on
the way real soon."
     He made his way back to Athena, Boxey and the comatose Alpha and
slowly collapsed to the floor.
     "Another damn waiting phase," Athena sighed from under her mask,
"This actually makes me yearn for the old Caprica-Sagitara shuttle
service."
     "Oh boy," Boomer rolled his eyes as memories flooded back, "Did I
ever have some long nights at the Caprica City Spacedrome waiting for
that."
     "Remember those little snack carts they used to wheel through the
terminal?" Athena reminisced, "They had the worst tasting protein chunks
I ever had in my life."
     "Don't remind me, Athena," he grunted, "Because you're reminding me
that there's no food in this room, and I haven't had a bite since before
the attack."
     "Why do you think I said this whole thing makes me yearn for that?"
she smiled back at him.  
     Boxey started tugging at Boomer's tunic.
     "Yes, Boxey?"
     "Muffy's ready to go for more help," he said eagerly.
     "He can't Boxey," Boomer smiled and patted the little boy's head,
"The ducts he went through have been sealed off from the bridge.  I think
Muffy's done enough heroic deeds for one day."
     "Will he get a medal?" he asked as the robot let out another
energetic yelp.
     Boomer reached over and stroked the daggit's somewhat rough
synthetic fur, "He sure will," he said, "He sure will."
     The only thing he wondered though, was how many other people would
be getting medals too?
     An even more chilling thought to wonder, was how many of them would
be posthumous?

********************

     As Tigh continued to maintain his perch over Omega's console, he
found himself slowly rubbing his fingers to work off some of the new
tension he was now feeling.
     The bridge officer's ears suddenly perked up as another message came
in on his headset.
     "Colonel," he turned to the executive officer, "Message from the
Life Station.  Commander Adama is out of danger."
     Tigh allowed himself to smile for only a brief instant.
     "God help me," he said, "if the first thing I have to tell him is
that his son is dead."

********************

     Brie's eyes kept darting back and forth from her scanners to her
surrounding field-of-vision.  Inside, she only allowed herself to be
angry instead of concerned.  It was the only way she could keep herself
from becoming an emotional wreck.
     Slowly, she exhaled to let off some steam. 
     And then, something caught her attention in the corner of her eye.
Something that seemed too large to be a distant star, but also too small
to be an approaching ship.
     Brie drew her viper in closer, straining her eyes to get a better
look.
     Just then, she heard a crackling static go through her helmet.
     "She---can see---now."
     "Apollo?" her hopes cautiously went up, "Starbuck?  If that's you,
you're garbled.  Please repeat."
     As she drew closer and the form became more distinct, she recognized
them both.  They were holding on to each other with both hands.
     "Brie, we copy you," Apollo's voice broke into relief, "Sorry we
couldn't answer at first.  The explosion made it difficult to readjust
our headsets."
     Brie broke into a smile of relief and joy, "Colonel Tigh!" for the
first time, her voice was jubilant, "I see them both.  They're alive and
well."
     "Thank God," Tigh finally let all the remaining tension escape from
him, "Thank God.  Apollo, can you hear me?"
     "Yes, Colonel," Apollo said as he peered at the awkwardly grinning
visage of his friend, "I'm safe.  Thanks to Starbuck."
     "We'll have a shuttle out to pick you up in a little bit."
     "My father?" he asked with an anxious edge.
     "He's doing fine," Tigh said with a renewed sense of confidence,
"And according to our computer reading, the storage compartment doors
withstood the explosion.  It'll only be a matter of time before we get to
them."
     "Thank you, sir," Apollo sighed, "Thank you."
     "Brie, stand by and keep them company until the shuttle gets there."
     "With pleasure," Brie grinned, "With pleasure."
     As the viper assumed a holding position fifty feet away from them,
Apollo looked Starbuck in the eye, "Thanks again, Starbuck."
     "Yeah well," Starbuck sheepishly chuckled and cast an idle look at
the openness of space that surrounded them, "I guess I just can't stand
the thought of you going anywhere without me."

********************

Chapter Thirty-Two: One Last Job To be Done 

     A sense of calm after the storm filled the bridge now that the
danger of the fire was over.  But with the focus now shifting to that of
getting the great battlestar back to full working order, the intensity
level of the crewmen had failed to slacken in the least.
     "Colonel," there was a relaxed edge to Omega's voice for the first
time since before the attack, "Maintenance says they've been able to
cannibalize some spare parts that should get deep-scan operational again
in about ten centons."
     "Good," Tigh nodded, "The sooner we get those patrols back here, the
better."
     "We should also have the rest of internal communications back in
just a little bit."
     He looked down at the bridge officer, "Then we should be able to
talk to Boomer on the telecom and start coordinating the rescue
activities.  Let me know when that's fixed, and tell Maintenance to get a
man up here to tell me what they're going to be doing on that."
     "Shaddrack's already on his way," Omega said, "and the shuttle
carrying is Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck now returning."
     "Have them report to the Life Station as soon as they land."

********************

     Cassiopeia and Salik both stood over Adama's life pod in the main
room of the Life Station with an air of anxiousness inside them.  The
tubes had been removed from the commander's body, and his expression now
seemed to be that of a man who was merely in the gentle throes of a
peaceful sleep.
     They heard the door hiss open and saw Apollo and Starbuck enter,
both still wearing their EVA suits.
     "How is he?" Apollo asked as he came up to them.
     Salik smiled, "He should be coming round any micron now, as soon as
the rest of the anesthetic wears off."
     Cassiopeia let out a sigh of relief when she saw Starbuck and the
two of them immediately hugged each other.  It was the first time they'd
had a chance to see each other since before the battle.
     They released each other and went back to Adama's life pod.  The
commander's eyes had started to slightly twitch.
     And then, after another micron, they came open.  For the first time
in a long while, Adama was able to tilt his head upward.
     "Apollo?" the voice was still a whisper, but the raspy tone was gone
now.
     "I'm here, Father," his son smiled and reached inside to squeeze his
hand, "The plan worked.  The ship is safe from danger."
     "What about Boxey and Athena?"
     "They're alive and safe for now," Apollo said, "But it'll take a
little more time to get them out of the compartment."
     "Good," Adama rested his head against the pillow, "I want to see
them both, so much."
     "You will," Apollo tightened his grip on his father's hand, "It
won't be long now.  In the meantime, you rest some more."
     "Okay," Adama replied and reciprocated the squeeze.  For the first
time, Apollo could sense some of his father's strength coming back.  "I
told you, I'd make it through alive, didn't I? At least," he took a
breath, "I think I did."
     And then, his eyes closed and the Galactica commander was fast
asleep.
     "If the current progress stays this way, he'll be released in two to
three days.  A sectan at the most," Salik said.
     "Will he be up to duty, do you think?" Apollo asked.
     "I think so," the middle-aged doctor nodded, "But I would hope for
his sake, that there be no more attacks like this one."
     "I'm sure that goes for all of us, Doc," Starbuck said.
     "I suppose so," Salik smiled.
     "If I'm needed for anything, I'll be on the bridge," Apollo turned
toward the door, "Starbuck?"
     His friend shook his head and cast a glance at Cassiopeia, "Not just
yet, buddy.  Go ahead without me."
     Apollo nodded and departed.
     "Doctor?" Cassiopeia inquired of Salik, "Will you be needing for the
next five centons?"
     The doctor nodded in understanding, "I think a short break is in
order for you, Cassiopeia."
     The two of them moved off to an empty end of the room, where they
hugged each other again.
     "Thank God, you're safe," the emotions Cassiopeia had held back all
this time were now slowly coming out.
     "Cassie," he smiled as he gently stroked her hair, "You know you
can't get rid of me that easily."
     "It's been a horrible day," the med-tech trembled for the first
time, "Just horrible."
     "But we're all still alive," Starbuck kept smiling, "That's all that
counts."
     "There's going to be a problem getting Athena and Boxey out, isn't
there?"
     Starbuck's smile faded and he let go of her.
     "It's...not an easy procedure, from what little I know about it," he
absently looked off in the other direction.
     She instantly noticed the change in his voice.
     "Starbuck," she asked gently, "You do still care a lot about Athena,
don't you? You haven't forsaken her for..."
     He turned around and looked her in the eye with the most serious
expression she'd ever seen on his face.
     "Of course I care about Athena," Starbuck said quietly. "And you. 
And Alpha."
     Cassiopeia nodded in understanding. "Of course. I'm sorry for
doubting you."
     "But that still doesn't mean I don't know where my future concerns
lie," he gently put his hands on her shoulders, "Because I've been sure
about that for a long time, Cassie."
     A tiny smile etched the corners of Cassiopeia's lips.
     "So have I, Starbuck," she said. 
     He pulled her close to him and they shared a brief, gentle kiss on
the lips.
     Just then, the corridor door opened, and they could see the
exhausted and thoroughly scarred Fabamant and Arones, pulling the
still-unconscious Lightillesinto the Life Station.
     "I have to go back to work, Starbuck," she said, "We'll talk later."
     "Sure," he nodded, feeling grateful that they'd at last had a
clearing of the air on some difficult subjects.

********************

     When Apollo reached the bridge, he saw that Shaddrack, the Master
Tech of the Galactica's Maintenance and Repair team had already arrived,
along with an emotionally spent Bennann.  The two of them had gathered
with Tigh by the computer that displayed the battlestar's blueprints.
     The executive officer looked up and motioned Apollo over.  Right
away, Apollo felt slightly uneasy when he saw the grim expression on
Tigh's face.
     "I'm glad you're here, Apollo," Tigh said, "Maybe you can help us
get a plan hammered out."
     "What's wrong?" Apollo asked with concern.
     "Nothing at the moment, Captain," Shaddrack said, "It's just that
we're in a bit of a quandry as to how we should approach this thing."
     "What kind of...quandary?"
     "Take a look," the executive officer pointed at the screen, "They're
located here, in Storage Compartment #3, surrounded by the Rejuvenation
Center on one side, and a corridor that leads twenty-five feet to an
auxiliary turbo lift on the other.  Ideally, the quickest way out would
be through there."
     "But?" Apollo waited for the other shoe to drop.
     "The problem is the hull breach you helped create in that particular
zone. It's larger and wider than any of the others," Shaddrack said,
"Attacking it there, would take more than a centar, perhaps closer to
two, before we could have it done safely, and then get the area
repressurized."
     "Which cuts too fine a safety margin with their remaining oxygen
supply," Tigh noted.
     "The other area, requires sealing off a more narrow, but ultimately
longer breach," the Master Tech pointed, "Because the other way out would
mean going back through the Rejuvenation Center and down a corridor of
nearly a hundred feet to the main turbo-lift."
     "And extra time for repressurization of both the corridor, and the
Rejuvenation Center," Tigh said, "Either way, we're up against time more
than we would have preferred."
     "Then get more lifemasks to them," Apollo said as he started to feel
the tension return to his body.
     "Impossible," Tigh was emphatic, "The vents have to stay shut.  The
forty masks I sent to them are the best we can do.  I'm sorry, Apollo. 
I'm afraid this has turned into another race against time."
     Apollo closed his eyes and slowly shook his head, as he tried to
fight back the sick feeling in his stomach.
     He then collected himself and said as calmly as he could, "What
about diverting more men to this?  The more hands you have working on it,
the quicker they can get the job done."
     "Captain, I only have eight men who are qualified to operate a
photosealer module,"  Shaddrack said patiently, "In the interests of
saving these people, I'm having all of them assigned to this operation,
and they will all be sent to the one area where the breach will be worked
on.  That, plus one man to handle the repressurization unit, and another
to repair the door, is all I can spare.  My other teams are at this
micron, trying to get the bridge shield replaced and the port landing bay
cleaned up.  I'm sorry but I can't take them off those jobs."
     "Then let me help on this," Apollo said instinctively, "I've still
got the EVA suit on, so I can hook up with them right away."
     Tigh suddenly rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling in
exasperation.
     "Captain," Shaddrack was slowly losing his patience, "One thing am
not going to do, is send inexpert men into areas where they can't do any
good.  Never at any time in your life have your hands touched a
photosealer module, so you wouldn't know the first thing about what's
involved in a job like this.  Neither does any other warrior for that
matter."
     "Just let me go along," there was almost a pleading tone in his
voice, "You have to let me help on this."
     Bennann, who had been silent the entire time, suddenly placed his
hand on Apollo's shoulder and turned him around so that he was looking
the Chief Firefighter right in the eye.
     "Captain," he said slowly and deliberately, "Listen to this, and
listen good.  My job for today is finished, and so... is... yours."
     For a long moment, there was silence, as Apollo looked at Bennann's
hauntingly grim and determined expression.
     The strong tone of the Chief Firefighter's words, coupled with the
look on his face, and the fact that he and Apollo had shared a terrible
experience together in witnessing the deaths of Hardall and Dion, finally
left an impact on Apollo that no one else could have been able to make.
     "Okay," Apollo said quietly and held up his hands in resignation,
"Okay, you win."
     Tigh promptly let out a sigh of relief.
     "If it's okay with you Colonel, I would like to stay here on the
bridge and monitor the situation."
     "That's the least I can do, Apollo," the executive officer said,
"Internal communications should be restored in a centon, so we should be
able to talk to them."
     "Well since we are dealing with a race against time, Shaddrack,"
Apollo turned back to the Master Tech, "May I at least suggest that you
make your decision on which way to approach them, now?"
     Shaddrack nodded and studied the blueprint one more time.
     Finally, the Maintenance Chief took a breath, "I'm going to take a
chance on the short way out.  I'll head down to hatch thirteen and join
the group I've already got standing by."
     "Stay in touch with us," Tigh said.
     "We will," Shaddrack said, "Oh, and Captain Apollo?"
     "Yes?"
     We'll get them all out, safe," there was reassurance in his voice,
"You have my word."
     "The Lords be with you," Apollo shook his hand before the
Maintenance Chief turned and departed. 
     Bennann put his hand on Apollo's shoulder and slowly guided him to
the other side of the bridge.
     "Thank you, Bennann," Apollo sighed, "I guess I was on the verge of
doing something really stupid.  I probably wouldn't have listened to
anyone else."
     "Yeah, well, we've both been through a lot today," there was little
emotion in the Chief Firefighter's voice, "Probably enough to last a
lifetime."
     Apollo turned to him, "How many men did you lose?"
     "Twelve, all told," Bennann was looking off into the distance, "Four
in the Boraton Mist Control Center, two teams of three each after the
mega-pressure pump fracked out on us, and... of course you already knew
about Firefighters Hardall and Dion."
     "I'm never going to forget that for the rest of my life," Apollo
shuddered, "All the yahrens I've been a warrior, I've never seen anyone
die like that."
     "War is a lot more sanitary, isn't it Captain?" Bennann on to the
railing, "Just the blink of an eye, and a viper is blown out of the
stars.  Or if you're shot by a laser pistol, it doesn't really do too
much visible external damage to the body."
     "I know," Apollo said, and then added pointedly, "Not that that
makes it any less painful, Bennann.  That's how my wife was killed."
     "I know all about that, Apollo," for the first time, the Chief
Firefighter had addressed him by name, "I've been down that road myself."
     Apollo frowned slightly, "Have you?"
     Bennann nodded, "My son and daughter were killed during the
Holocaust."
     "I'm sorry," a wave of sympathy suddenly filled him, "Were they
pilots?"
     Bennann smiled crookedly and shook his head, "No, Apollo.  They
grew-up and became firefighters, just like their father was.  And it just
so happened that Fate destined them to be assigned to the fire team
aboard the Atlantia."
     Apollo settled down in the chair just three feet from where he was
perched on the railing.
     "Do you know what always made me bitter the most?" Bennann went on,
"It was the whole suddenness of the thing.  The way the Atlantia just
went up like that," he snapped his fingers, "I mean, I could always
picture the two of them springing into action when the attack began,
determined to put a lifetime of learning at my feet, and four yahrens at
the Academy to do the job they'd been waiting their whole lives to do. 
And before they ever could have had a chance to get started on their
work, the Atlantia was gone."
     The Chief Firefighter stopped to take a breath, "I'd always accepted
the possibility that they could die in their line of work, just like I
always had to accept it for myself.  But going that quickly, without even
a chance to show that you'd at least died doing the best you could," he
shook his head, "That was too much for me to handle for a long time.  I
still don't think I've ever really come to terms with it."
     Apollo continued to listen with both enthrallment and a deep sense
of compassion.  He realized that he and Bennann had a lot more in common
than the experience of working together today.  Just as the suddenness of
the Chief Firefighter's sons death had been difficult to accept, so too
had it been for Apollo in trying to cope with the loss of first Zac, then
his mother, and then Serina.
     Especially Serina.
     "Apollo," Tigh suddenly called over to him, "Internal communications
are now back.  We're going to try and contact them now."
     Apollo rose from his chair, and patted Bennann on the shoulder
     "I appreciate what you've had to say," he said, "You might as well
go back to your quarters and get some well-deserved rest."
     The Chief Firefighter rose and smiled thinly.
     "Not a chance," he shook his head, "I have a vested interest in
knowing the final outcome of all this."
     Apollo returned the smile and they went back over to Tigh's station.

********************

     Before the explosions, the mood inside the storage compartment had
been one of a sense of creeping terror.  Now, as the twenty people all
breathed through the first of their two individual lifemasks, the mood
had slowly turned into one of boredom for the non-injured, and a
frustrating sense of impatience for the injured.
     "I should have at least remembered to bring a deck of cards in
here," Boomer mused as he continued to lie against the wall next to
Athena and Boxey, "I could have started a quick pyramid game and at least
come out of here with some extra cubits.  Then the day wouldn't have been
such a total loss after all."
     "I've seen you play, Boomer," Athena shook her head, "It would have
been more of a loss for you."
     "You've never seen me play against someone other than Starbuck," he
replied, "And the difference is that this game would be honest."
     Before Athena could come up with a quip in response to that, there
was suddenly a loud piercing beep that caused everyone in the room to
jump slightly.
     Boomer got to his feet and saw that the telecom unit on the wall was
now flashing a red light.
     "Well, it looks as though the telecom's fixed," he picked it up,
"Hello?"
     "Boomer?" Tigh's voice filled the earpiece.
     "Hello, Colonel Tigh," Boomer said with relief, "Do I owe you an
apology for demanding that time off this morning."
     "Accepted," Tigh chuckled, "Are you all okay?"
     "Not everybody, I'm afraid," he said.  "There's eight people
injured, and Princess Alpha is unconscious."
     "How serious is her condition?"
     "I'm not a doctor..."
     "Is she dead?"
     "No, Colonel.  She's still breathing.  My guess is that she passed
out from the smoke."
     "Okay.  I'll have the rescue team leave to get to you right now. 
They'll be coming through the corridor on the other side of you.  As soon
as it's repressurized, you'll go that way to the auxiliary turbo-lift and
take it down to Delta Deck.  We'll keep this line open and report on
their progress to you."
     "Okay, Colonel, I know we'll feel a lot better knowing what's going
on," Boomer said as he motioned the now-anxious and enthusiastic crowd to
be silent, "What exactly happened to us, anyway?"
     "It seems like such a long time ago, Boomer," the executive officer
sighed, "Two Cylon fighters packed with solonite rammed us.  We took a
lot of damage up here on the bridge too."
     "Is everyone else okay?"
     "Everyone's fine.  In the meantime, I'll let you talk to Apollo."
     There was a muffle on the other end, as Tigh handed over his
headset.
     "Boomer?"
     "Apollo," Boomer smiled and motioned to an exhilarated Boxey and
Athena, "Good to hear your voice again."
     "Not half as much as it's good to hear yours."
     "Well I might as well let you talk to a couple people you're more
anxious to hear," he handed the telecom to Athena.
     "Apollo?" her voice was trembling.
     "Athena," her brother sighed in relief, "Thank God."
     "Is everything stable up there?"
     "It's getting there," he said, "About the only bad thing that could
happen now would be that basestar suddenly showing up, but it doesn't
look as if that's going to happen."
     "Can I talk to Father?" Athena pressed the telecom tighter against
her ear.
     "I'm afraid not," Apollo said as quickly as he could, "He took some
bad injuries."
     "How bad?" she cut in with alarm.
     "He had to undergo surgery, but fortunately the operation was a
success," he said with as much hasty reassurance as he could, "I just
talked to him in the Life Station.  Dr. Salik's prognosis is good."
     His sister paused for a brief instant.
     "You are being candid with me, aren't you?"
     "Athena," Apollo said pointedly, "There isn't a single person on
this ship who hasn't been candid about anything since this whole thing
started."
     "I'm sure of that," she nodded and relaxed, "I'll put Boxey on."
     She then handed the telecom to Boxey, who was already reaching his
hands up in anticipation from the instant Boomer had mentioned his
father's name.
     "Dad?" Boxey asked with his usual level of enthusiasm.
     "Boxey," Apollo sighed in delight at the sound of his son's voice,
"You don't know how much I've worried about you."
     "You didn't have to," he almost seemed to chide him, "Muffy and me
just did what Boomer told us to do."
     "That's being a good little warrior," there was obvious pride in
Apollo's tone, "I heard all about what Muffy did."
     "Boomer says he'll get a medal."
     "He sure will," Apollo smiled, "And you're going to get one, too."
     "Are you be coming to get us, Dad?"
     "No, I'm afraid I can't be there when they open the door up, Boxey,"
he said gently, "But I'll be waiting on Delta Deck when you all take the
turbo-lift down.  I'm really looking forward to seeing you and Muffy
again."
     "I've missed you, Dad," for the first time, Boxey's voice seemed to
break just a little bit.
     "I've missed you, too," his father replied tenderly, "But we'll see
each other soon.  Now you put Boomer back on, and I'll talk to you later. 
I love you, son."
     "I love you, Dad," the little boy then handed the telecom back to
Boomer.
     "I can't thank you enough for bringing them through this, Boomer,"
Apollo said with genuine emotion, "I owe you a lot."
     "I'm glad to know I made up for missing the battle," Boomer remained
casual, "How soon until we can expect that help?"
     "At least a centar, Boomer," he said, "I'll stay on the line and
report the progress."
     "Do that.  And in the meantime, start filling me in on everything
else I've missed."
     "You don't know how lucky you are to have missed it," Apollo sighed
as he started from the beginning.

********************

     Shaddrack had arrived in the airlock to hatch number thirteen, where
a team of ten other Maintenance workers were already waiting with their
EVA suits and helmets on.  Eight of them held hefty, cumbersome
photosealer modules that were specially designed for sealing breaches in
the battlestar's hull.  Another was standing by with the portable
repressurization unit, while the tenth had several low level charges
attached to his suit in case the door needed to be blown.
     Unlike Apollo and Starbuck, the heavy equipment they were carrying
meant they would be forced to use their tether lines.
     "Which one is it going to be, sir?" crewman Gousy, the most
experienced photosealer module laser operator asked.
     "The bigger one above the auxiliary turbo," the Master-Tech locked
his helmet into place.
     Gousy immediately groaned, "That's going to take every one of these
modules."
     "We don't have a choice," Shaddrack activated the switch that
started the depressurization procedure inside the airlock, and then
turned to the two crewman with the other items of equipment, "Sipp,
Terum, listen carefully.  Since your job's going to be done on the
inside, you two will go first and get yourself in.  Stand-by outside the
door to the storage compartment until we signal you that the hull's been
sealed and is ready for repressurizing."
     "What about our tether lines, sir?" Sipp, the crewman with the
repressurization unit asked.
     "Cut 'em loose the micron you're inside," Shaddrack answered. 
"You'll be leaving through the turbo-lift with all of them once the
area's repressured."
     A loud pop indicated that the depressurization was finished. 
Shaddrack then hit the switch that opened the external hatch.  As the
starry blackness came into view over their heads, each of the crewmen
started to slowly rise up and out of the great battlestar.
     The bulky repressurization unit now felt as light as a feather in
Sipp's hands as he went into the lead position and moved down toward the
large circular opening in the hull.
     His partner Terum shook his head in amazement as all of the hull
breeches along the side of the ship filled their line of vision.
     "Take a look at that," he said, "Did you ever see anything uglier in
your whole life?"
     "Remind me to compliment Apollo and Starbuck on the nice mess they
made out here," Terum nodded as they drew closer.
     Since Sipp was unable to hold on to the handrails because of the
repressurization unit, Terum had to pull at his foot to drag him down
toward the opening.  After several centons of slow effort, they finally
disappeared from the view of Shadrrack and the other members of the team
who would be staying outside the hull.
     "Let me know when your tether lines are cut, and you're securely
in," the Master Tech radioed.
     "Affirmative," Sipp replied as he looked around and saw the darkened
and scorched corridor come into view.  There was a slightly ominous
quality to the burnt-out surroundings, where  only some blinking
auxiliary lights along the corridor, and the stars shining through the
opening above, reduced the level of blackness.
     Sipp pulled at his tether line to lower himself to the floor.  As
soon as his feet touched the bottom, he immediately  grabbed hold of
Terum's leg, pulling him down to the floor as well.  Once they'd moved
further down the corridor and away from the line of sight of the major
breach, they both detached their tether lines from their suits.  The
broken straps promptly soared back up and outside the ship.
     "We're secure inside and detached, sir," Terum radioed as he kept
his hands on the unit, so as to keep it close to the floor.
     "Okay," Shaddrack said, "Give a tap on the compartment door to let
them know you're there.  We'll get started out here."

********************

     "Boy, that's a sight I wish I could have seen," Boomer chuckled into
the telecom as Apollo continued recounting the events of all that had
happened, "You and Starbuck, hand-in-hand, floating off into the starry
void."
     Just then, he was distracted by the sound of a thump from outside
the door to the corridor.
     "Just I micron, Apollo," Boomer said, "I think they've shown up."
     "You won't be able to talk to them, Boomer," Apollo said, "Just give
them one tap back.  They'll be standing by out there."
     Boomer handed the telecom to Athena and made his way to the door
where he gave the cold surface a firm rap in response.  From the other
side, there was another brief series of taps which Boomer recognized as
the standard Colonial code signal of acknowledgment.
     "Okay," Boomer said as he took the telecom back, "They're ready,
they know we're ready, now how about those guys out there getting ready,
so we can get the frack out of here?"
     "The photosealer modules should be starting now."

********************

     "Activate modules now!" Shaddrack signaled.
     Gousy and the seven other workers hit the switches of their modules. 
Instantly, beams of laser light emerged that would instantly bond the
subatomic particles surrounding the hole, compressing them into a metal,
thereby creating a surrogate skin that would seal the hull breaches.
     But because the lenses projecting the beams were only an three
mili-metrons wide, sealing a hole more than ten maxims in diameter could
only be a time-consuming process that would take the effort of all of the
available modules.
     Another tense period of waiting had begun. 

********************

     Starbuck had changed back into his regular uniform, and had gone
back to the bridge to check on the situation.  
     When he arrived he saw Apollo seated at the console, while Tigh and
Bennann stood off to one side behind him.
     "How's it going?" Starbuck asked, as he came over.
     "They're starting on the hull breach above the corridor," Apollo
said, "The other men in the team are inside but they can't do anything
until that hole is sealed completely."
     "How long will that take?" 
     Apollo looked over at the executive officer, who shrugged.  "At the
rate they're going, at least a centar," Tigh said, "The beams are already
at full intensity, so they can't go any faster."
     "You should compose a memorandum for Wilker," Starbuck settled next
to his friend, "Start building a better, faster photosealer module."
     "Just be glad these kinds exist," Apollo said, "Twenty yahrens ago,
it still took a sectan to do this kind of job, welding scrap metal plates
together for a temporary fix until you made it to the nearest space dock
in the colonies."
     "I always thought you were the guy who hated technological
innovation," Starbuck gave him a nudge.
     "I just placed a moratorium on that for today," he removed his
headset and handed it to his friend, "Here, talk to Boomer."
     As Starbuck slipped it on and began talking to his friend, Apollo
warily got up to move about and stretch his legs.    

********************

     The sense of boredom and restlessness that had affected both those
in the storage compartment and on the bridge had now spread to the two
crewmen waiting outside the storage compartment.  The weightless
sensation was somewhat less pronounced inside the Galactica than it had
been outside, but even so, Terum had to keep his hands firmly clamped on
the repressurization unit to keep it from drifting away.
     "Lords of Kobol, I am bored," Terum finally said aloud.
     "You're ain't the only one," Sipp lifted his arm to check the
illuminated chronometer strapped to his wrist, "Thirty centons, we've
been in here."
     Sipp then looked above to the hole that was being slowly sealed
shut.  At this point it was now one-half the size it had been when they
had entered through it.
     He caught sight of Gousy leaning over the edge and waving down to
him.  He absently waved back and then made an impatient motion to keep
moving.
     "Let's try to kill some time," Terum said, "I heard a pretty funny
story the other day in the turbo wash."
     "Go ahead," Sipp said dryly, "But just remember that Shaddrack is
still listening in on everything we say.  Isn't that right, sir?" he
looked up and added.
     "Correct Sipp," the Master Tech''s voice piped through their
helmets, "How does that story go, Terum?"
     The younger crewman blushed in embarrassment, "Ah, I just
remembered, sir, it's not so funny after all."
     Shaddrack let out a minute chuckle, "Hang tight men.  We're halfway
there."
     The two crewmen then went back to their impatient, bored silence.  A
silence that for the next ten centons was punctuated only by their
breathing.
     But then another sound, a strange one entirely, suddenly became
evident to the two of them.
     "What's that?" Terum frowned.
     "I don't know but it sounds like it's coming from inside here," Sipp
turned around, "Towards that turbo lift."
     They cautiously made their way forward, when all of a sudden, the
grinding noise became a roar and the walls and ceiling in front of the
turbo lift doors suddenly buckled in front of them.
     "Terum?  Sipp?" Shaddrack shouted, "What's going on in there?"
     The two technicians looked at the scene in stunned shock.
     "Terum?  Sipp?" the Master Tech shouted again, "Respond!"
     The more experienced Sipp decided to answer first.
     "Sir," there was a heavy air of dejection in his voice, "The
bulkhead ceiling and wall in front of the turbo-lift just caved in.  I
think it must have been a delayed reaction to the force of the
explosion."
     The silence on the other end indicated Shaddrack's stunned reaction.
     "And I'm afraid sir, that there is no way that anyone could gain
access to that turbo-lift," Sipp went on, "This avenue of exit is now
officially a dead-end." 
     
 ********************
 
     Once the information was relayed to the bridge, the level of shock
was even greater.
     "Can't you use the charges you've got to clear away the debris?"
Tigh demanded.
     "Negative," Shaddrack replied over an intercom link that made his
words audible to everyone on the bridge, "It'd take one medium-level
charge which he doesn't have or both of the low-level ones.  And if you
do that, there's nothing left to blow away the storage compartment door."
     "Frack!" Apollo slammed his fist against the console table. His
inner feelings could no longer be contained this time, "Shaddrack,
they've just switched to their second masks, we've only got a centar
left!"
     "I'm aware of their situation, Captain," the Master Tech retorted,
"But right now, there's not much we can do in the next centar."
     "That's unacceptable, Shaddrack," Tigh's displeasure was all too
clear, "You've got to come up with something now.  Now what about
switching to the other possible avenue of escape we considered?"
     "Colonel, we barely have enough time to seal that area up, but
you're forgetting something.  We wouldn't have a team inside to
repressurize that area."
     "What are you talking about?" Apollo jumped back in and demanded,
"Just get Sipp and Terum over to the other zone!"
     "We can't get them to there," Shaddrack retorted sharply, "The hole
we were already sealing is now too small for them to get out of.  That
means we don't have anyone with a repressurization unit, or an explosive
charge for the door to get into that secondary area in the Rejuvenation
Center!"
     "Can't you send two more men out to join you?" Apollo refused to let
any possible stone go unturned.
     "No, because we wouldn't be able to start sealing until they were
both inside, and by the time they'd get here, we'd never have the breach
sealed in time."
     Grave expressions came over all of the people on the bridge.
     Tigh finally drew himself up to his firmest posture of the day,
"Then there's only one solution, Shaddrack" he said, "Start sealing the
secondary zone.  Tarum and Sipp will have to find a way to the
Rejuvenation Center from the inside."
     "They're on the other side of it, Colonel!" Shaddrack protested,
"There's no way they could get there without exposing the people trapped
to vacuum caused by two breaches."
     "Let us worry about that, Shaddrack," Tigh said, "In the meantime,
take care of the one you can handle."
     "Yes sir," he sighed in exasperation, "Starting immediately."
     Tigh then switched on the computer displaying the Galactica
blueprints.  Apollo, Starbuck, and Bennan all came over and looked at it
intently.  Too intently for them to say anything aloud.  All of them were
trying to form solutions for getting the two crewman out of what seemed
like an incomprehensible maze.
     The Chief Firefighter was the first to notice something.
     "Colonel, I think there is a way," Bennann said, "The corridor the
two crewmen are on leads back the other way to another compartment door
two hundred feet away.  That compartment is a throughway to the main
corridor of Alpha Deck where the Rejuvenation Center is."
     "I see it, Bennann," Tigh said, "But they'd have to blow two doors
to get there.  Not only would they be co-mingling the two hull breach
areas, they'd use up both their charges and have nothing for the storage
compartment door."
     "But if they were able to safely open just one of those doors sir,
and close it behind them, then both dangers would be eliminated."
     "Bennann," Tigh said, "Most of the doors in that area were jammed
when the Cylon fighter rammed us."
     "Most of them, but not all," once again, a note of cautious
exhilaration came back to Apollo's voice, "Sergeant Kulanda, the guard
who tried to rescue them earlier.  He'd been trapped in the storage
compartment down the main corridor from the Rejuvenation Center.  If his
door could open, so could one of these."
     "Then you're asking us to stake all their lives on a hope and a
desperate gamble," Tigh said pointedly, "That works when you're playing
pyramid, but it's inadvisable to use that when people's lives are at
stake."
     "We don't have any other option, Colonel," Apollo retorted.
     Before Tigh could answer, Bennann jumped back in, "He's right, sir. 
That's the only access route they can take to be in a position to save
them."
     The executive officer then cast a glance at Omega.
     "Omega," he called over to the bridge officer, "Do we have computer
control for the individual compartment doors back?"
     "No sir," Omega shook his head, "That's going to take more than a
day to get back on-line.  We haven't been giving that priority on the
repair list."
     Tigh slowly exhaled and drew himself up, "It would seem then, that
the situation that confronted us when we had to put out the fire has
reached us again.  Very well, we'll do it.  Apollo, notify Boomer and
bring him up-to-date.  I'll relay all of this to Shaddrack, since he's
the only one in touch with Sipp and Terum."
     And with the stunned shock now past, the air of nervous tension had
returned to the bridge again.

********************

     Boomer was more than ten centons into the use of his second oxygen
mask, and was beginning to feel his impatience starting to be replaced
just slightly with the sense of concern and danger that had filled him
and everyone else in the room before the fire had been put out.
     When is this going to end? he found himself raging in silence.
     The concern had also reentered Athena's voice, "Boomer, why have
they stopped talking to us?" 
     "I wish I knew," he said as he looked at the telecom in his hand
that had been silent for the last several centons, "But whatever it is,
it can't be good."
     "Boomer? You there" Apollo's voice then came through.
     "About time I heard from you guys again," he said as he put it back
to his ear, "What's happening out there?"
     "Boomer," Apollo said gently, "Hook this up so everyone in the room
can hear me.  I think I can explain it a lot better than you're going to
be able to."
     "Okay," he nodded and went over to the wall unit and made the
adjustment.
     Several centons later, the edge of terror had returned to the entire
room again.

********************

     Since the cave-in, Sipp and Terum had stayed in position, waiting
with seething frustration for what their next set of instructions was
going to be.
     "Isn't this fracking lovely," the younger, more hot-tempered Terum
was trying mightily to keep himself under control, "Standing in a
corridor filled with vacuum, totally cut-off and nothing to do, while
twenty people just ten feet away from us suffocate."
     "Calm down," Sipp said gently, "Save your rage only for if this
thing fails completely and it's all over."
     "You mean it's not over already?" Terum bitterly retorted.
     "No. Not yet," Shaddrack's voice suddenly came through, "They've
just come up with a back-up plan to get the two of you into the secondary
zone which we're working on sealing, right now."
     "We're listening," Cygnus said with anxious anticipation.
     "Make your way back down the corridor, and look for the compartment
door that leads to the throughway between that corridor and the main
corridor.  And take the repressurization unit with you."
     "Affirmative," Sipp switched on his beacon light so that it shined
down the length of the dark and blackened corridor.
     Through the weightless environment of the vacuum, the two of them
literally hopped their way forward as far as their individual steps could
take them.
     A centon later, Sipp shined his light on a compartment door located
on the side.  Despite the scorch marks, the words, "THROUGHWAY TO MAIN
CORRIDOR," were still legible.
     "Okay sir," Sipp reported, "We've reached the door."
     "Good," the Master Tech kept the tension he felt submerged, "Now to
try to open it manually from the control panel."
     Sipp shined his light on the intact panel.  He carefully made
several adjustments and finally pressed the appropriate buttons.
     But nothing happened.
     Sipp said nothing and made a quick readjustment.
     Still nothing.
     "Sir, the door is jammed," he finally spoke, "We'll have to use one
charge to blow it."
     "All right," Shaddrack's voice seemed to sag, "Do it.  But I have to
tell you this, right now.  If the other door leading to the main corridor
is also jammed, then that's it.  The whole triad game is over.  Blowing
both doors means we'd have to seal both breach areas in order to get them
out safely and we simply don't have enough time to do that."
     "We understand sir," Sipp nodded and calmly removed one of the
low-level charges attached to his EVA suit.
     He then motioned to Terum to back away with the unit, and then the
two of them bid a hasty retreat in the zero-g environment down the
corridor as they waited for the charge to blow.

********************

     "The first door was jammed," Tigh said quietly, "They already had to
blow it open.  We should know about the second door any micron now."
     A hush came over the other three people gathered there.  Apollo was
biting his lip in nervous frustration.
     "If the other door is jammed, Colonel," Starbuck struggled to find
one last possible ray of hope, "Then couldn't they get through the way
Boomer got everyone in to the Storage Compartment?  Hot-wire the door
somehow?"
     "Theoretically they could do it," Apollo said glumly, "But it took
Forger fifteen centons to do it, and he wasn't operating in total
darkness with only a small flashlight, while wearing a space suit in
zero-g.  By the time they could get through that way, there'd be no one
left to save."
     No one said anything for a long minute.  All over the bridge, the
silence had become deafening.
     The executive officer finally broke it, "It's come down to the last
desperate play," he said quietly, "And where it leads to, only God
knows."
     Apollo calmly adjusted the telecom, "Boomer," he said, "Stand-by.
We'll know in another micron."

********************

     Inside the compartment, the level of fear and tension was at the
highest level it had been all day.  The terror was so great, that no one
dared say a word.
     Boxey had wrapped himself around his aunt's waist as tightly as he
could.  There were no tears or any crying from the little boy, but Athena
could literally feel his body shaking against hers.
     Alpha coughed a little bit, writhing as if returning to
consciousness, but she stopped moving and returned to her comatose state.
     Boomer reached out to Athena and gently squeezed her hand in a show
of support.
     And then, as if on impulse, Athena suddenly leaned forward, lifted
her mask up for a brief instant, and kissed Boomer on the cheek.
     "For good fortune?" he smiled at her.
     "For good fortune," she whispered and smiled back.

********************

     Slowly, Sipp made his way through the gaping hole of the door they
had blasted open.  The throughway stretched more than thirty feet across
to the critical compartment door on the other side that led to the main
corridor.
     The door seemed to exude a menacing aura as the two crewmen drew
closer to it.  And indeed, it was clear to both Sipp and Terum that the
door was menacing.  For it alone, held the key as to whether twenty
people would live or die.
     Sipp took a breath and let out a silent prayer of anguish to the God
he'd always worshipped as to why this terrible responsibility of being
the first one to know was falling on him.  Then he realized that he was
being selfish for focusing on that.  His prayer could only be one that
the door would open.
     Again, he shined his light on the intact control panel.  Again, he
made several adjustments.  Again, he finally pressed the buttons that
would reveal the terrible secret so many were waiting to know.
     Again, nothing happened.
     Behind him, Terum's nervous breathing grew more and more heavy.  The
young crewman almost felt on the verge of hyperventilating.
     But Sipp knew he still had one more gambit to play with on the
control panel.  And without saying anything, he once again made another
adjustment.  And once again, he pressed the appropriate buttons.
     A rumbling sound suddenly emitted, and was then accompanied by the
sight of the compartment door sliding open.
     Sipp's calm exterior suddenly exploded into intense jubilation,
"It's workin'!" he shouted, "The beautiful thing just opened!"

********************

     "They did it!" Shadrach's words that had been relayed to him, echoed
through the bridge.
     A sudden cheer went up, but Apollo promptly held up his hand, and
the sight of that was enough to cause the cheer to stop before it was
finished.
     "It won't mean felgercarb if they can't close it," he quietly
pointed out, "I'm not telling them a thing until we know that."
     Like an on/off switch, the tension that had briefly gone,
immediately came back.
     "Shaddrack," Tigh calmly radioed, "Let's wait until the door is
closed before we get excited."
     You're right sir," the Master Tech sounded embarrassed, "Sorry."
     "How's your job coming along?"
     "Better than I expected," Shaddrack said, "We should have made the
plan of attack from here right at the outset."
     Apollo visibly flinched when he heard that remark, while Starbuck
shook his head in disbelief.
     "If that door doesn't close," Starbuck said under his breath with
contempt, "Then that last remark of his is going to be his epitaph."

********************

     Sipp went through the doorway out into the main corridor.
     "All right," he motioned at Terum, "Get that thing through here."
     With the repressurization unit securely in his right hand, the young
crewman made his way down through the passageway and came through the
opening into the corridor alongside Sipp.
     His senior colleague then went back to the control panel on the
other side.
     And then, Sipp let out a triumphant whoop characteristic of
Sagitaran natives as the compartment door slid shut.

********************

     When the word came through from Shaddrack, another loud cheer went
up on the bridge.  And this time, the cheer was allowed to sustain
itself.  Tigh pumped his fist into the air in excitement. 
     But Apollo didn't bother to join in the merriment.  He simply smiled
then carefully repeated the glorious words into his headset, "The
compartment door is shut!"
     Behind him, he felt Bennann's hand patting his shoulder.  He turned
around and saw the Chief Firefighter smiling in triumph at him.
     "The worst is over," Bennann said, "I'm glad I stuck around to see
them make it safely."
     Apollo got to his feet and looked at him with a great deal of
admiration, respect and empathy.
     "Bennann," he extended his hand, "I want to thank you for
everything.  It was an honor to work with you, and all of your brave men. 
And I'll never forget the help you just gave us."
     "It was an honor to work with you, Captain," Bennann took it, "For
the first time, I think I finally know why the Lord in his wisdom decided
that I was going to live through this."
     And then the Chief Firefighter slowly turned away and quietly left
the bridge.

********************

     Inside the storage compartment, there was also a wild cheer of
exhilaration for the first time.  Boomer and Athena hugged each other and
then Boxey.  Even Muffit joined in the merriment by jumping on to the
three of them.
     Even though the last phase in their confinement had not yet arrived,
there was now a sense that at long last, things were finally, truly over.

********************

     From there, events seemed to move much more swiftly.  After another
wait of ten centons, the team outside the hull led by Gousy finished
sealing the lengthy and narrow breach running along the hull above the
main corridor.
     Shaddrack then gave the signal, and Terum activated the
repressurization unit.  Within another three centons, pressure had been
restored to the main corridor.  There was still no flow of oxygen to the
area, but it was now safe for people with masks to go through the area
without pressure suits.
     Terum and Sipp made their way through the burned-out ruins of the
Rejuvenation Center over to the storage compartment door.  A firm
pounding from Terum gave the signal to all the people inside that it was
time to prepare for the explosive charge that would blow the door open
and free them.
     Microns later, the door that had served as their bulwark of safety
had been blown open.
     One at a time, they all emerged, still wearing their lifemasks.  The
injured, Alpha among them, were carried out first, followed by the rest. 
Boomer was the last to emerge.
     As they filed out, he cast a glance at the gutted game equipment
strewn about the ruined room.  At one end, he could see the table Boxey
and Athena had been playing at when he'd first entered the room in what
seemed like an eternity ago, but had in fact only been a little more than
four centars.
     "Well Boxey," he leaned down to the little boy, "Looks like it's
gonna be a while before we finally have that game of compartment
billyarks I'd promised you."
     They stepped out into the corridor where Terum had activated the
turbo-lift at the other end.  When the doors were opened, the eight
injured people were loaded in for the first trip down to Delta Deck.
     It took another centon for the lift to come back up.  When it opened
again, the rest of the group, including Boomer, Athena, Boxey and a
barking Muffit got on board.  When the doors closed, they finally,
gratefully removed their masks and were able to breathe normally again.
     The first thing they saw when the door opened three decks down was
the outstretched arms of Apollo happily waiting to greet them.
     He embraced his sister first, and then took his son in his arms,
kissing him with all the fatherly kindheartedness he felt able to summon.
     He then set Boxey down and looked at Boomer, who stood in the lift
doorway with a thoroughly stoic expression.
     "Boomer," for the first time there were tears in Apollo's eyes as he
reached out and shook his friend's hand, "You pulled them all through. 
Thank you."
     "Yeah well," Boomer remained stoic as he warmly reciprocated the
handshake, "I had a lot of help from a lot of good people."
     "We all pulled each other through, Apollo," Athena said, "All of us
who saved this ship.  There are a lot of people who deserve some high
honors."
     "I know," Apollo smiled, "Boomer, Bennann, so many others," he then
paused slightly to reflect, "Especially a couple of firemen named Hardall
and Dion."
     "Not to mention you and Starbuck," his sister added.
     "And Muffy!" Boxey suddenly chimed in.
     The three of them laughed as they looked down and saw Boxey proudly
petting his beloved daggit.
     "You're so right, Boxey," Apollo picked his son up again, "Now in
the meantime, what's say we all go up to the Life Station and say hello
to your grandfather, who I know is very anxious to see all of you?"
     And with that, the four of them set off down the corridor for the
turbo-lift that would take them there.

********************

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Calm After The Storm

     For well over several centars, Baltar had nervously paced back and
forth in front of his throne chair, awaiting news of what had become for
him, desperation rather than his usual self-centered swagger and
confidence controlling all of his actions.
     Finally, the doors to the command center opened and Lucifer glided
into the room.
     "Well?" Baltar's annoyance was so great that he didn't bother to
wait for that wearying 'By your command.'
     "Our special assault patrol reports that there were two direct hits
on the Galactica," the IL Cylon said, "One to the bridge and one to the
landing bay."
     "Has she been destroyed?" the impatience in the human traitor's
voice only grew.
     Lucifer paused for that brief instant that always succeeded in
unnerving Baltar.
     "Not exactly..." the IL Cylon started.
     "Will you come to the point?!" Baltar raged.
     "The rest of our fighters were destroyed before the Galactica's
destruction could be confirmed."
     Baltar slump down into his throne, "We have no fighters left in our
arsenal now?"
     "Such a result was to be expected when you chose to have all of them
loaded with solonite," Lucifer's tone was matter-of-fact, "If it turns
out that the Galactica has survived, then a new assault will be
impossible for the foreseeable future."
     Just then, a centurion came up to them, "By your command."
     "Speak," Baltar waved his hand in irritation.
     "Our long-range communications monitors have picked up the
inter-fleet messages of the Colonial ships.  They indicate that the
Galactica has survived and is underway again."
     Baltar dug his fingers into the side of his throne chair.
     "Do you have any new ideas, Baltar?" Lucifer allowed only a hint of
sarcasm to enter his voice.
     "Later," he waved his hand, "Leave me for now."
     "Shall I contact the Imperious Leader on the homeworld to apprize
him of the situation?"
     "I said leave me for now, Lucifer," Baltar raised his voice.
     The IL Cylon felt that he'd attained enough inner satisfaction from
seeing Baltar in this position, "By your command," he bowed and departed.

********************

     Starbuck's fumarello was dead.
     He let it stay that way.
     "That's not a good news face you're wearing," Starbuck said when he
caught up with Apollo in the Life Station.
     "Well, old buddy..."
     Starbuck grabbed his friend's arm.  "Don't hold anything back," he
said.  "Boomer said Alpha was unconscious," he said.  "Is she here in the
Life Station?"
     Apollo gave a slow nod. "She's undergoing treatment right now."
     "But..." Starbuck clenched his fists, getting himself under control. 
"But she's going to make it, right?"
     "Last I heard the docs were optimistic."
     "Fine," said Starbuck.  "I'm going to see her now."
     Salik's staff may not let you into---"
     "Oh, yeah, they'll let me," Starbuck assured him.  "Because the mood
I'm in, I don't think anybody's going to risk trying to stop me."

********************

     Whitness all around her.
     Alpha took a deep breath and air filled her lungs.
     "I'm alive, right?" she said to nobody in particular.
     "That you are, very much so," said Cassiopeia, who was standing
beside the lifepod she found herself in.
     She poked at herself through the white coverlet.  "My clothes!  I
say!  What's happened to my bloomin' clothes!"
     "Standard procedure," Cassiopeia explained.
     "But...I looked so damn nice in those ruddy things."
     "You'll be getting them back."
     "How soon?"
     "We don't expect you to be here too long."
     "What happened to me in the Rejuvenation Center?"
     "Nothing we couldn't take care of.  Smoke inhalation. Dr. Salik and
Dr. Paye cleared your lungs."
     "What about Forger?"
     "The fellow who opened the door?"
     "Good, he did it then?"
     "Yes, and everyone got into the storage room just before the fire
blew the door off."
     Alpha nodded to herself, pleased.  "That's good news," she said. 
"But I'm unhappy about passing out.  I hope the word on that doesn't get
around."
     The med-tech smiled.  "Sorry, but it already has," she informed her. 
"Just about everyone knows about how you got the fellow to open the door,
and helped Boomer and Athena to keep the others calm."
     "Sure, I'm sharing the limelight with those two."
     "I hope so," Cassiopeia said.  "Oh, and I'm now going to violate the
rules."
     "How?" she eyed the blonde med-tech.
     "I'm going to allow you a visitor.  For a short while anyway," he
said.  "Then I want you to rest.  We've got a few more tests to run later
on."
     "Is this visitor who I think it is?"
     "Exactly," said Cassiopeia.  "Who else but Starbuck could walk his
way in here at a time like this?"  Crossing to a white door, she opened
it.  "Come in, Lieutenant. And try to control your usual exuberance." 
She left the room.
     Starbuck made a very subdued entrance and came over to the bedside.
     "Hi," he said.
     "Hi," she said.

********************

     Starbuck studied himself in his bathroom mirror.  "No wonder I'm the
idol of millions," he remarked.  "Adored throughout the universe."
     "Spare me," requested Apollo, who was slouched in a comfortable
chair.
     "I merely state the truth."
     "Oh, I wasn't aware that any of what you've been babbling was the
truth."
     "You have to make an effort to keep up with the latest news."  The
lieutenant gave his blonde hair a final touch with the brush.
     "Well, even though it's painful to listen to this," said Apollo,
"I'm glad to see you're no longer sunk in gloom."
     "Nope, I'm bubbling over with good feelings."  He smoothed a sleeve,
patted a crease in his trousers.  "After all, we've saved the Galactica
and spooked the Cylons out of this neck of the universe."
     "For now, anyway."
     "And that means the colony on Destructon is going to have a chance
to prosper."
     "True."
     "And repairs and refurbishments on the Galactica are under way even
as we speak," he said.  "Everything is going to be shipshape once more."
     "My father is back on duty and Alpha was released from the Life
Station."
     "That too," said Starbuck.  "But let's remember to call her
Caeljumbe."
     "Caeljumbe," Apollo watched him in silence for a moment.  "We're
dining on the Rising Star tonight, at the Commander's reserved table. And
it's on you."
     "We are.  Hense all this duding up of myself.
     "Didn't think you could afford that."
     "Interesting that you should say that.  Recently, I was able to
borrow just sufficient funds to finance an evening of---"
     "Did you take some kind of commission on that Ambrosa that Assault
and the others brought here with them from Destructon?"
     Shaking his head, Starbuck pressed a hand to his chest.  "I didn't
take part in any of the negotiations betwixt Assault and our
quartermasters," he said.  "Of course, if I hadn't pointed out to Assault
that their Ambrosa was so gallmonging valuable, they might've left it
piled up on the Destructon docks.  Right?"
     "So you did collect something?"
     Starbuck spread his hands wide.  "I was given, chum, what is known
as an honorarium."
     "That's one name for it."
     "A polite one, at that."
     Apollo strectched up out of the chair, shaking his head and
grinning.  "Well, here's hoping nobody chokes on dinner this evening."
     "Don't worry.  Everybody's gonna get through the whole darn meal. 
I'll see to that."

********************

     As Adama sat at the head of his own reserved table in the Risi