Battlestar Galactica: The Long Patrol
                         From The Adama Journals
                             By Eric Paddon
                             Epaddon@aol.com

     After three sectars of traveling through space since our flight 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 survival dictates leaving 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charts, many of which are hundreds of yahrens out of date.  And all alone
at the end of that ring lies the planet Gomorrah and the Delphian Empire,
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 still 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

     When Adama entered the bridge and mounted the steps to the upper
level he could feel a maze of conflicting emotions inside him.  On the
one hand, there was the sense of awe 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 forever.
     He could see Apollo at the foot of the railing, looking down at the
main viewing screen, with Boxey alongside him, and the robot daggit
Muffit off to one side.  The little boy was already dressed for his sleep
cycle, but Adama knew that Apollo wanted his son to be here for this
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 have been an explorer
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.
     Colonel Tigh noticed Adama's arrival and came up to him, "Sensors
indicate we're nearing the end of the asteroid dust cloud, Commander,"
the executive officer said, "That will officially put us in the Alpha
Quadrant."
     Adama nodded, "No problems with the rest of the Fleet negotiating
through it?"
     "None."
     The Commander moved over to the railing where Apollo and Boxey were.
     "You look as nervous as a cadet on his first orbit, Apollo," Adama
noted wryly.
     His son looked up, slightly surprised to see him.  "Oh, Father! 
Yes, in a way I guess I am."
     "Hi Grandpa," Boxey said, looking somewhat non-plussed, "I'm not
nervous.  I don't even know what to be nervous about."
     Apollo laughed as he put his hands on his son's shoulders so he
could crouch beside him.
     "We're leaving the home quadrant of the galaxy, Boxey, 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 seemed to pick up
slightly.
     "Your grandfather 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 will be practically
brand new territory for Colonial space travelers."  
     As soon as Apollo finished,   they could see the swirling darkness
on the viewing screen dissipate and be replaced by the sudden brightness
of millions of stars in their field of vision.  A low intake of breath
could be heard from almost all of those gathered on the bridge as a
sensation of awe passed through them.  With each of them wondering if one
of the points of light before them represented the final destination of
their journey.
     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 then he had
since his arrival on the bridge.
     Apollo smiled thinly, and injected the proper note of parental
authority, "No you cannot, young man.  You're centons into your sleep
period already, remember?"
     "Grandpa?" he looked up at Adama.
     "Now you keep me out of this, young man," Adama said disarmingly,
loving every micron of what he was seeing.  "I may be Commander of the
Fleet, but he's your father."
     "Thank you," Apollo kept smiling wryly and gave his son a brief hug,
"Was it worth it anyway?"
     "Sure," Boxey grinned, "But next time, I'll act more excited and
maybe you'll give me a few more centons."  He turned to his daggit, "Come
on, Muffit."
     The little boy then walked off 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.
     Apollo sighed and got to his feet, "Were Zac and I like that?"
     "Worse," his father smiled as he patted him on the shoulder, "It's
great that you make time for centons like that."
     "Whenever I can," his posture then became more formal.  "So now that
we're in the Alpha Quadrant, what's next on the itinerary for us?"
     "Taking scan 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
in to these regions without our knowledge, and that's what we have to be
most concerned with."
     "Commander," Tigh came over to them, "Initial sensor readings are
negative on signs of life in this sector."
     "Hmmm," Adama mused, "Well as soon as the rest of the Fleet has
cleared the asteroid dust, concentrate all sensors forward to increase
our 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.
     "You really think it's a good idea to use Wilker's new toy?" 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.  He proved that by creating Muffit for Boxey,
but I'm not ready to entrust my life to one of his creations."
     "I figured as much.  Besides, you were never the type to be
impressed easily by technological advancements in viper craft."  They
moved down to the next level and walked by Athena's station.  "So who did
volunteer for the mission."
     "Starbuck."
     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?"
     "A twenty-four centar gold pass on the Rising Star, giving him
access to the Main Dining Hall, which otherwise has a wait list more than
a yahren long if you're not part of the Elite Class, and all other
sections of the ship."
     "Really," Athena settled back in her chair.
     "Of course we shouldn't deprecate Starbuck's volunteering for what
could be a very dangerous mission," Adama said.
     "Oh no," Apollo's smile widened, "Not at all."
     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 Officers 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.  Already, he knew that ever since the
Holocaust, a major strain had developed in the once tight relationship
his daughter had with the brash warrior, and now he was seeing another
visible sign of it.  "What is Starbuck's status right now?"
     Athena punched in the display status for all pilots on the computer,
"He landed on the Rising Star twenty centons ago."
     "Well, assuming his status remains green for the rest of the night,
you are certainly free to change your plans, Athena."  her father said. 
"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, "Um....Father, I didn't
want to say anything of a sensitive nature, but.....that may not have
been a good idea."
     "Oh?"  the Commander frowned, "Why not?"
     "Well....I don't know, I sort of get the feeling that if Starbuck
knew that Athena couldn't make it, he'd probably not be inclined to go
over to the Rising Star alone."
     "Really?" this was news to Adama, "I had the feeling that things had
gotten rough between them, but who would Starbuck ask out on such short
notice?"
     "I'm not sure, although, I think I have 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 socialator
turned med-tech named Cassiopeia.
     Adama took a breath, "Well, if that is the case, I'm sure Athena's
capable of handling it 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 the right thing."


     The luxury ship Rising Star was on this particular evening situated
relatively close to the Galactica, which meant that it was 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 gathered by the
large full-length porthole at the Hall's entry point to take in the
sight.  On everyone's face the, reaction was the same of total awe.
     A tall, gray-haired man with a thick moustache stood among the crowd
and smiled.  His name was Zeibert, 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 then him.  As a young man of eighteen,
he had enlisted in the Colonial Merchant Service and 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, Zeibert directly oversaw and managed all activities in the Main
Dining Hall and Astral Lounge, while the Assistant Chief Steward, Lange,
took care of matters in the Empyreal Lounge.  He could always be expected
to be constantly 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 ship and the people he'd met and known from all walks of life, as
well as the stories about the Rising Star's past history, stretching back
more than three hundred yahrens, that he had carefully learned as well.
     Tonight, as he watched and saw the asteroid dust cloud lift, would
be no exception.
     "This reminds me of the old days," he said aloud.
     Starbuck, who had his arm around Cassiopeia, turned to look at him.
     "The old days?"
     "Why yes, Lieutenant," Zeibert said, "I've served aboard the Rising
Star since I was a boy.  In those days, we traveled to the very end of
the Colonial Frontier.  Those were wonderful times.  Before the war."
     "Before the war?" Starbuck lifted an eyebrow.  "I had no idea you
were a thousand yahrens old, Zeibert."
     "Ah, forgive me.  An old habit of mine.  For those of us who signed
on the Rising Star back then, the war was more.....distant to us.  Not
particularly active at that point, which was why the Rising Star could
travel much further out into space and put into all kinds of distant
planets and space ports.  When the war suddenly heated up again, that put
an end to the days of traveling such great distances.  That's why to
those of us who serve aboard the Rising Star, 'pre-war' means the happier
days of excitement, and deep space travel."
     "I see," Starbuck realized that he couldn't dare show too much
interest in Zeibert's renowned gift for storytelling, or else he'd be
distracted from what he wanted to do this evening.  "You know, Zeibert,
this could be my last chance to have dinner on the Rising Star for
awhile.  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?"
     Zeibert stared at him, "Ordinarily, Lieutenant, your Gold Pass would
entitle you to one, but due to the fact that we have a very high
attendance aboard ship this evening, that may not be possible."
     Starbuck quietly slipped him a gold ingot that represented one
hundred cubits.
     Immediately, the Chief Steward broke into a smile as he discreetly
pocketed it, "Well of course, perhaps in your case, one can always see to
it that arrangements are made for a warrior on his last night before the
big mission.  Follow me please."
     Starbuck hesitated an instant before following the Chief Steward
down the corridor that led to the private rooms, "I don't think I like
the way he said that."
     "Starbuck," Cassiopeia said as they began to walk, "What big mission
are you talking about?"
     He lowered his voice, "Actually, it's just a routine patrol, but
don't tell him that."
     They reached the end of the corridor, where Zeibert had opened the
door that led to one of more than a dozen private rooms situated in the
passageway.  "Will this do?"
     Starbuck and Cassiopeia stepped in and took one look.  "Perfect,"
the blonde warrior grinned.  "And if you could furnish a bottle of Virgon
ambrosia, that would make it even more perfect."
     "Virgon ambrosia, Lieutenant?" Zeibert lifted an eyebrow, "We're
already in limited supplies as it is, and you're asking for the rarest
vintage----"
     He stopped as Starbuck slipped him another hundred cubit ingot.
     "I'll see what I can do," the Chief Steward said as he turned and
departed.
     Now I know why he's served on the Rising Star all these yahrens, he
thought.  He probably got his own quarters in Elite Class just by getting
all these extra bribes and tips.
     "Okay, Starbuck," Cassiopeia put her arms around him and kissed him,
"Whether we get Virgon ambrosia 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."
     "Well 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, "It's not often that a
med-tech like me gets asked out."
     Starbuck smiled thinly.  He didn't have the heart or the nerve to
mention that it was her former occupation that had intrigued him more
than her current one.  Although in the three sectars since she had given
up being a socialator to become a med-tech, he had gotten to see a lot
more substance to Cassiopeia as a woman then he'd ever expected to have
seen.
     Even so, he was still at a point where he was not completely ready
to cut all the pre-Holocaust bonds 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 became a grin, "I
just think of you as a very, beautiful woman," he kissed the back of her
neck.
     "I'll try to live up to that image," she turned around and kissed
him again, "And I think in order to do that, I need to take a centon to
freshen up a bit."
     "All right, whatever you think best," Starbuck kept grinning as he
pulled out a fumarello cigar and stuck it in his mouth, "I'm sure the
results will be worth the wait for me."
     As soon as the door closed, Starbuck settled back in the couch and
lit the fumarello with a contented air.  This is going to be a night I'll
never forget.


     On the Bridge, Omega was intently studying the results of the
forward sensor scans.  There was such an intensity on his face, that from
the other side of the Bridge it made Rigel stare at him with a bemused
expression.
     Totally 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 had
a habit of getting caught up in his duties to the point where
opportunities for a social life tended to get crowded out.  It had been
more than a couple sectans since he'd last asked her out, and she
wondered if a subtle hint to him at some point was in order.
     Abruptly, Omega came forward in his chair and called out to Adama
and Tigh, which simultaneously 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 indications of
possible life forms!"
     Adama, who was still talking with Apollo came over from their side
of the Bridge, situated in front of the Bridge Officer, while Tigh, who
had been busy on the upper level, approached from behind.
     "Where is the indication?"  Adama asked.
     "Delta vector eight, heading eight, six, two."  He looked up,
"Request permission to concentrate all scan activities to this heading."
     "Concentrations approved."  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, will have that in a centon," Rigel said as she went to
work.
     "What do you think?" Apollo asked, "Maybe the Cylons have penetrated
this area?"
     "We couldn't possibly know from this far out." his father shook his
head, "It could be other alien races, and....well there's even the
possibility of human settlements that were abandoned 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, has Dr. Wilker reported on 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
he heard the door slide open.  And then, he nearly had a heart attack
when he saw not Cassiopeia or Zeibert, but a beaming Athena.
     "Athena!" he stammered as he got to his feet.
     "Hi," she came over to him, "I....managed to get off duty after all
and thought I'd surprise you."
     "Well....you sure did, Athena.  You sure did!" already Starbuck
could feel his mind flashing back to Carillon and the hole he'd dug for
himself the last time Athena and Cassiopeia had confronted each other,
and the last thing he wanted was a replay of that.
     "I figured you shouldn't be....alone on your last night before the
big mission," she then cautiously glanced around the room, "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, "Not any
longer!" he managed to smile.
     The door slid open, and for an instant Starbuck was afraid it was
Cassiopeia, but when he managed to look he could see it was Zeibert,
holding a tray containing two glasses and a bottle of ambrosia.
     "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.
     "Ah, Zeibert!" Starbuck bolted over to him, "I'm glad you're back
because ah.....you wouldn't happen to have a room with a better view
would you?  There's ah.....a ah......sanitation ship just off our beam,
and you know what an eyesore those are.  Not what I'd call appetizing
scenery for a night like this."
     Athena frowned and looked out the porthole, "Sanitation ship? 
Where?"
     Starbuck could feel his heart pounding so fast from anxiety, he was
sure it would explode through his chest, "Oh well, it must have just
moved back.  Probably has a first orbit cadet at the controls.  Still,
just knowing it's there is bad enough."  He drew closer to Zeibert and
shoved him two more hundred cubit ingots.
     "Get me another room," he whispered in a pleading tone.
     "Yes sir, I quite understand."
     "Good," Starbuck patted him on the shoulder but then realized that
Zeibert wasn't moving.  The blonde warrior's disgust increased as he
dropped another hundred cubit bar in the Chief Steward's hand.
     "Follow me," Zeibert smiled knowingly and led them out.
     As soon as they were in the corridor, Starbuck looked down and hoped
that Cassiopeia wasn't on her way back.  To his relief, Zeibert reached a
room on the other side of the corridor and motioned them in without
anyone else appearing.
     "Here you are sir," the Chief Steward continued to smile, "Remember,
if you need anything else, be sure to ask for me personally.  You can
depend on me to handle all of your problems."
     "I'm sure of that," Starbuck said with the faintest air of sarcasm
as he and Athena entered the room.
     "Oh.  And your ambrosia, sir.  Choice Virgon vintage, as you
requested," Zeibert set the tray down.
     "Thank you," Starbuck wished he would go.  "That will be
all......for now."
     "Of course, sir," Zeibert had a twinkle in his eye 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.
     "You had two glasses ordered with that," she motioned at the tray.
     "Oh, well, I didn't want to feel so lonely, so ah......I just
figured it would be more appropriate."
     "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 glass 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 ease her suspicious mind for now.
     "The same as they always are.  Although tonight, everyone was kind
of on-edge what with getting through the asteroid dust cloud.  Good thing
the Rising Star's flying so close to the Galactica or else I would have
had to wait several centars for a shuttle to get through the cloud."
     Just my fracking 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 impact 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.  "I had no idea
you'd suddenly become a connoisseur."
     "Hey, for an evening with you, one has to be knowledgeable about
these things.  Now give me a centon and I'll see about getting some right
away."
     "Why bother?  Just ring for Zeibert."
     "Ah, and waste time waiting for him and telling him and waiting for
him to go back and get it?  Nah, this will be much quicker, believe me. 
Sit tight and enjoy the ambrosia.  I'll be back in a flash."
     He stepped out into the hallway, leaving her confused and feeling
the suspicious feeling only mounting.
     I probably did make a mistake coming here.  I'll bet anything if I
went 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 in the hallway 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 the launch bay 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 get back 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 location 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, "Location correlated in Star Map database?"
     "Yes sir," Rigel replied, "Proteus star system.  Consists of five
asteroids, only one of which was marked and deemed suitable for human
life forms."
     "What about 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.
     "There you are," she said with relief, "I was wondering where you'd
gone off to."
     "Oh.  Well, you see Zeibert came back while you were still out and
said there was no way he could come up with any Virgon ambrosia, so I
just had to go out and raise a ruckus about that, but...." he shrugged,
"My powers of persuasion go only so far."
     "Too bad," she said, "I went to the trouble of having some fresh
protein delivered.  Without ambrosia though......."
     "Oh who said you have to have ambrosia to enjoy the taste of
protein?" Starbuck said as he settled next to her on the couch and helped
himself.  "I mean what do those guys who write all that felgercarb about
what food goes with what drink really know, when you get down to it?  If
it tastes good, it tastes good anyway."  He picked up a piece and sampled
it, "Mmmm.  Delicious.  See what I mean?  Those connoisseur guys are full
of felgercarb."
     "Well, one thing's for certain," she playfully ran her hand through
his hair, "One doesn't need ambrosia to get the necessary effect for a
pleasant evening."
     He smiled, "So, I see."
     She was on the verge of kissing him again, when suddenly a unicom
announcement filled the room.  "Lieutenant Starbuck, report to Battlestar
Galactica, Alpha Launch Bay, immediately.  Lieutenant Starbuck, report to
Battlestar Galactica, Alpha Launch Bay, immediately.  Priority Red."
     "Oh frack," Cassiopeia whispered, "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 executioner's blade.  "Yeah well.....duty calls,
love.  At least this time, it wasn't a malfunctioning steam blast that
interrupted us."
     "I guess not," she laughed and kissed him one more time.
     "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 crookedly, "You said it was just a routine
patrol."
     "Hey, even routine patrols can be life threatening."  He got to his
feet, "Now you just finish the protein and help yourself to all the
things this ship has 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 go to
check on fresh protein so things can be perfect, and then I have to get
that unicom message."
     "I heard," Athena said, "I guess it just wasn't meant to be
tonight."
     "I guess not," 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 comical 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 then either of us ever expected they might
be.  Of course if you spent more time keeping up with the reserve flight
group, we might be able to see each other more often."
     "I don't think I'm cut out to keep up with viper flying.  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."
     "Ah," Starbuck nodded, "Well in that case Athena, you know all about
the risks it entails so tell you what," he removed the remaining insignia
pin from his cape, "Hang onto this for me while I'm gone, will you?  A
little thing to remember me by."
     She took it, and found herself touched, "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 was not
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 bother, you just got here, so why don't you just finish the
ambrosia and help yourself to all the things this ship has to offer. 
Besides," he took a breath and knew he'd hate himself for this but he
didn't want to take any chances, "I want to remember you just as you are. 
Beautiful against the stars."
     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 closed, Athena
shook her head, not knowing whether to think the evening had been a
positive step in the right direction or a total failure.
     One thing's for certain, she thought wryly, He could use a remedial
class in literature to come up with better romantic comments then that
exit line.


     As soon as he was in the corridor, Starbuck headed in the direction
of the Main Dining Hall which would lead him to the docking area
ultimately, and for him the safety of the Galactica.  Before he reached
the end of the corridor, he noticed Zeibert holding a computer clipboard.
     "Lieutenant," he said, "If you now plan on dinner for both rooms,
that will necessitate a slight adjustment."
     Starbuck let out a defeated sigh and pulled out his money bag.
     "Tell you what Zeibert," 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 with my next pay cycle."
     He dropped them on the computer clipboard, and the Chief Steward
smiled.
     "Thank you, sir.  And may I just say that I do admire your daring."
     Starbuck shrugged, "Ah well, it's just another mission."
     "Oh no sir," Zeibert said, "I was referring to the two young ladies. 
Very pre-war of you.  It puts me in mind of why those days were so
special to all of us who served aboard the Rising Star back then."
     Starbuck smiled crookedly, "Someday Zeibert, 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 Zeibert alone to pick
up the cubits from his clipboard and pocket them.  Just as he finished,
he could hear the doors 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.
     Zeibert 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 other's 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 on.  If we have to now
admit to each other that we've become rivals 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.  It's
nothing against you, Cassiopeia, it's just.....him.  I should know by now
that he and I are probably through, so why do I keep......" she trailed
off and shook her head, wondering why she'd been so naive."
     "You shouldn't be that 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 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 anger and embarrassment to
disappear, "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 ambrosia'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 Two

     Starbuck's shuttle ride 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 bad 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 gravitate toward one of two women and end up hurting the
other.  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 made it," Apollo said, "You have 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 throw himself into
every aspect of the mission.
     Five centons later, Apollo was amazed to see that Starbuck had
followed orders and wasted no time.  He was wearing a gray and black
uniform with no markings or insignia, and a nondescript helmet that more
resembled a triad helmet then a pilot's.  Alongside his viper were
Apollo, Boomer and Dr. Wilker.
     "My, my," Boomer said as he eyed Starbuck, "Don't we look just
precious."
     "I do wonders for any kind of uniform." Starbuck grinned, "Maybe
because of this, the Colonial Warrior's uniform will get it's first
redesign in a hundred yahrens.  Strike more fear and terror with the
darker color scheme."
     "The only problem Starbuck is that you never 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 awhile 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, got me on that one Boomer.  Maybe it's my lack of a good
haircut in recent sectars that makes you think that.  Course the reason
why it's safer 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 cut on a micron's notice."
     "Even though that helmet there is more apt to damage such an unkempt
style like yours already is," Apollo grinned, "So how was your dinner?"
     Starbuck grimaced, "Let's just say that I'm now looking forward to a
few centars in space alone for a change.  Just give me a nice fast ship
and hopefully an empty quadrant."
     "Well this ship is fast, that's for sure," 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 patented lectures that were
always guaranteed to be overloaded with technical details.  "Dr. Wilker,
kindly explain to the Lieutenant what he's going to be handling."
     "Thank you Captain," Wilker stepped forward, "This experimental
Recon Viper is the finest advancement our scientists and engineers have
ever come up with.  Thanks to the addition of extra engine space, the
speed capacity is twice that of the standard Mark 5-B 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.
     "And not only that, but this marks the formal unveiling of something
I've had in development for a long time, and that's the CORA system."
     "CORA?"  Starbuck frowned.
     "It's a voice-activated computer system that can handle all aspects
of flight and enable 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 interesting, Doc, but us hotshot pilots really don't need
all that electronic felgercarb."
     Wilker bristled slightly, "Lieutenant, I think you'll find that even
for a hotshot pilot, these advancements can prove to be quite valuable,
and may in fact help save your life!"
     "Take it easy, Doc, I'm sure they're all done for the greater good
of mankind," Starbuck mounted the steps and settled into the cockpit of
his viper.
     Apollo decided he needed to step back in and keep Wilker from having
a meltdown.  "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 since we don't want the Cylons to track your signal
back."  He then dropped his voice to 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."
     "Not necessarily, Lieutenant!" Wilker protested, "That's where the
genius of the CORA system comes in.  Because of the additional speed and
maneuvers this Viper is capable of, you can totally confuse any Cylon
from figuring out which direction you've gone off in once you elude
them."
     "Really?" Starbuck looked down at him, "In that case, maybe there's
something to be said for electronic felgercarb after all.  Twice as fast,
you said?"
     "Yes," Wilker beamed as Apollo stepped back from the viper, "You
should love it with the second pulse generator in all engines which gives
you the additional engine space and the additional speed."
     Starbuck frowned and looked at the rear of the viper craft, "Wait a
micron, I don't see any modifications for that kind of engine expansion. 
Externally, this looks like any other Mark 5-B Viper."
     "We didn't need to make any external modifications,"
     "But how can you add that much weight without getting rid of
something?" Starbuck said as he strapped himself in place and prepared to
close the cockpit canopy.
     "Simple," Wilker said, "Removal of the laser generators."
     "Oh," Starbuck said as he hit the button and the canopy began to
lower.  It was halfway down when he suddenly realized the implications of
what the Electronics Scientist had just said.
     "Hey, wait a fracking micron, that means I'm unarmed!"
     The canopy sealed shut before Starbuck could finish his protest.  He
could see Apollo and Boomer standing 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 Electronics Scientist's lecture had come off as grating to the both
of them.
     "You ask me, I still think this mission makes no sense," Boomer
said, "I'm as fascinated by technological advancements as Wilker is, but
this doesn't seem like the best way to show them off, especially when it
leaves him totally unarmed."
     "Truth be known, I agree with you," 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 being in the Alpha Quadrant that makes the Commander a bit
skittish and want to try something different."
     "Maybe you're right," Boomer said as he hit the button and the lift
began to move up, "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.  At least not in our lifetimes."
     "I came to terms with that a long time ago," Apollo said, "Truth be
known, I'm glad we finally got it over with.  The more I can make home a
distant memory, the better I feel."
     "It's not easy to do it," Boomer said as the turbo-lift came to a
stop.  "I still dream about having a furlon back on Caprica, only each
time I dream the images become fuzzier, and when I wake up I keep trying
to force myself to remember what it was like because I don't want 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."
     "I guess not," Apollo said as they stepped into the corridor,
although he had no intention of following that advice with regard to
Boxey.  The last thing he wanted to do was remind Boxey too much of the
things that he'd experienced at such a young age, 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 hadn't fully conquered.
     "Want a drink in the Club?" Boomer asked.
     "I don't think so," Apollo said, "I'd better turn in.  See you
tomorrow."
     "Sure," the dark-skinned warrior nodded as they went their separate
ways. 


     As soon as Starbuck set the viper on course he could immediately
tell the difference between it and the conventional 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 brash 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,
doing a full roll maneuver 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 his
console, clearly marked by the acronym CORA.
     Starbuck was then startled to hear a feminine voice fill the
cockpit.
     "You asked for it."
     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 then he'd been
able to execute.
     "Holy----Frack, come on, stop!  You're going to make me sick!  Back
to normal speed and heading now!"
     There was an almost sarcastic edge in the voice, "Your wish is my
command, honey."
     Starbuck glared at the computer in annoyance, "The name is Starbuck. 
That's Lieutenant Starbuck."
     "Don't be a bore," the feminine voice sighed.  "My name's CORA-----"
     "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."
     "Oh great," already Starbuck was wondering if Wilker had lost his
sanity to come up with something like this, "Already you've been a barrel
of laughs, believe me."
     A forlorn sigh emitted from the terminal, "I do hope your hostility
will cease, as it will not help our working relationship, which is
essential to the success of the mission."
     "All right, all right, sorry.  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 chat with the second-in-command,
a more advanced Cylon named Lucifer, who unlike the usual centurion,
possessed normal speech.  But to hear a normal voice coming from a
computer terminal was more surreal to him then hearing one from a moving
robot.
     Starbuck's forward scanners switched on by themself and he could now
see a detailed readout showing his viper proceeding in the direction of a
nearby star system.
     "We are on vector 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
Proteus asteroid.  I've activated my sensors and am probing the area
where lifeforms were detected by the Galactica's rather limited
scanners."
     Starbuck raised an eyebrow, "Do I detect a note of jealousy?"
     "Quiet please, I'm scanning."
     "Excuse 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 destruction of their race.
     Some new scanning data appeared on the computer and Starbuck could
see two contacts.  "I have two unidentified sub-light vehicles bearing
Omega one, Delta eight heading away from Proteus.  Shall we investigate?"
     Starbuck hesitated for an instant and then nodded, "Yeah, proceed. 
Bring us close enough to make 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 being detected
by either craft, and we can determine what they are."
     "Who they are," he impatiently corrected.
     "Excuse me," there was little sense of being apologetic in CORA's
voice.  "Slowing now to sublight.  Will have visual scan identification
on screen in five, four, three, two, one and now."
     Abruptly, the viper slowed down and an instant later, Starbuck could
see both ships appear on his view screen.  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.
     "Positive identification of a sixth millennia Colonial fighter and
shuttlecraft.  Origin unknown but they're probably not Cylon.  Feel
better, honey?"
     "No, I never feel good when I seen an unarmed ship being chased by a
fighter," he paused, "And if you call me 'honey' again, I'm shutting you
off!"
     "Sorry, Starbuck." again there was nothing apologetic in the tone. 
It was as if this personality programmed was designed for 100 percent
attitude and zero percent humility.  "Your recommendation?"
     Starbuck kept his eye on the screen and saw the ancient version of a
viper open fire on the shuttle.  Whoever the pilot was, his aim was not
good, 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, "Well, I guess that makes sense. 
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?"
     "May I suggest a high-speed flyby, kicking in our second boost
within fifty metrones of the fighter.  Our backwash should knock him
silly and scare the pogees out of him."
     Starbuck stared dubiously at the computer again.  CORA had just
uttered every cliche a hotshot pilot in a bad video-com entertainment
production might have said, and to hear it come from this soft-spoken but
sarcastic female voice made it sound even sillier.
     Wilker, you are in need of a trip to the Nuthouse, he thought. 
     "Okay, but I want complete control when I make the pass so I can be
sure I avoid a collision.  Release controls," he said firmly.
     "The chances of avoiding a collision are far greater with my control
maintained."
     "Release controls!" Starbuck raised his voice angrily.  
     CORA let out another sigh, "Released."
     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. 
     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 Proteus 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,
didn't it?"
     "Rather sloppily."
     The brash warrior rolled his eyes in disgust, "Listen CORA, let's
get something straight-"
     "Fighter is disengaging and returning to Proteus.  Shuttlecraft has
been damaged from one hit, and is landing on second asteroid, dead
ahead."
     "I can see that!" Starbuck felt his anger increase.  "You don't have
to repeat everything for me, just let me figure out how to handle this."
     Frack, patrolling with a piece of bilge scum like Ortega would be
preferable to this, he thought as he checked the scanner and saw the
shuttle set down on the unnamed second asteroid.
     "Follow the shuttle," he finally said.
     "May I land us, or shall I have to go through a bouncer?"
     Starbuck came within a fraction of exploding, "Just give me the
coordinates!"
     "Displayed.  And please try not to jar 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 minus 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?"
     "Beacon indicates Lieutenant Starbuck has approached Proteus system,
but....." the bridge officer's eyes narrowed, "He appears to be landing."
     "On Proteus?"  Adama frowned.
     "No," Omega shook his head, "The second asteroid in the system."
     "Is that 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 found 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 vigil.
     "I'm going to try and squeeze in my sleep cycle now, Colonel.  Don't
hesitate to disturb me if the situation warrants it."
     "Yes sir," Tigh nodded.  "We'll keep monitoring the situation."
     "Are all of the ships in the Fleet out of the asteroid dust cloud?"
     "Yes sir, the last one got through ten centons ago."
     "Then start reactivating our rear scan beams.  We can't let our rear
flank stay unmonitored."
     The Commander then turned and stretched his arms again as he left
the Bridge.

     As soon as Starbuck's viper came to a stop, CORA powered down the
internal systems.
     "Switching all systems except marker beacon to standby mode,"
     "Okay right," already Starbuck was popping open the canopy,
determined as he was to get away from CORA as quick as he could.  He
removed his helmet and made sure his laser pistol was attached to his
side as he climbed out and dropped to the rocky surface.  Around him, the
sky was so clear he could see the full magnitude of the stars in all
their splendor.  It was enough to make him stop and take one look in awed
wonder at how such a sight seemed from outside a viper cockpit.
     He then made his way over to the nearby shuttle, which he could see
stopped more than one hundred metrones.
     "Hello!" he called out, "You all right?"
     In the darkness, Starbuck could see no one.  His sense of caution
kicked in as he decided he needed to stay silent and listen for the
slightest sound that would indicate where the mysterious human pilot of
this shuttle was.
     As he reached the ramp of the shuttle, he then heard the noise he
was waiting for from somewhere behind him.  Immediately he spun around
and whipped out his pistol.
     "Drop it!" he barked.
     A young man of about thirty, wearing ragged clothes that seemed as
out of date as his ship, smiled uneasily as he held his arms up in the
air.  One of his hands clutched a metal pipe that he clearly had intended
to use against Starbuck.
     "I'm sorry lad, I'm sorry," he said hastily in a voice that spoke
Colonial Standard, but in a strange accent that seemed a mixture of both
Aerian and Aquarian to him.  "I thought you were the pirate that was
chasing me."
     "Pirate?"  Starbuck kept his pistol trained on him.
     "They're from the Proteus system and let me tell you there's some
nasty beggars there," his words came out in rapid-fire delivery, "I don't
know what made me cross this asteroid system anyway."
     Starbuck tightened his grip on his pistol, "I told you to drop the
pipe!"
     The man finally did so, "I don't blame you for being cautious.  I'm
just a shuttle pilot with a load of agro spare parts for the farmers on
Croaton."
     "Croaton?" already Starbuck knew that the man couldn't be telling
the truth, since the Star Maps indicated no named settlement other than
Proteus in this region.  Certainly no other one capable of being shuttled
to in the man's ancient ship.  "What's that?  What settlement?"
     "It's a very small and primitive settlement that's never seen the
likes of that beauty you're flying there, I can assure you," the man
continued to speak in his rapid-fire delivery that Starbuck found as
irritating as CORA's voice.  "Now you're not from this system, are you?"
     "I'll ask the questions, if you don't mind," Starbuck kept his
pistol trained on him.
     "Yeah, I know you will.  I just want to know where I stand.  Are you
a pirate too, or a marauder?  If you are, you can check my cargo, go
right ahead.  It's not worth much."
     "I think I will," Starbuck said as he headed for the hatchway, where
he could see numerous boxes piled up.  As he entered, he turned back to
the man and trained his pistol on him again.
     "Ah, ah," he said, "Keep your hands where they are, especially away
from that club you dropped."
     "Yes sir, yes sir."
     With his pistol still trained on the man, Starbuck pried open the
lid of one of the boxes and did a double take.
     "Agro parts for some farmers on....Croaton?" he said disbelievingly
as he picked up a bottle from inside the box.
     "Aye," the man nodded, "And that too."
     "This happens to be ambrosia," Starbuck said as he glanced at the
label, "And from the looks 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."
     "Depends on where you come from," the man eyed him with growing
amusement, "Where do you come from?"
     Starbuck ignored the question, "Come on, where did you get this?  It
can't be real."
     "It's real."
     The warrior grinned, "You're a bootlegger, right?"
     The man motioned, "Try it, and you'll see."
     Starbuck nodded, "I will," he pulled the cork out with his teeth and
took a swig.  The taste was the most delicious he'd ever known in his
life.  He'd always read how the older ambrosia was, the more it's 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, you know," the man's
voice was no longer rapid-fire, "And if you're willing to keep your mouth
shut, I'd ah....be glad to share my find with you."
     "This is worth a fortune!" already Starbuck wondered if he'd
stumbled on something that would help net him a lifetime's worth of
dinners and private rooms on The Rising Star.  "How much of this stuff is
there?"
     "Well ah....more than you or I could haul out of here," he glanced
back at Starbuck's viper in the distance, "But that ship of yours doesn't
look like it was made for cargo, it looks like it was made for," he
stopped and looked back at Starbuck, "Wait a centon.  You're not that
pirate are you?  You're not going to kill me, are you?"
     Immediately, Starbuck realized that if he wanted to take advantage
of this sudden windfall, he needed to show some good intentions.  He
placed his pistol back in his holster, "Well, I didn't mean to frighten
you.  I'm a little leery of pirates myself.  How many of those guys are
there, that were chasing you?"
     The man 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 attack and inspect you."  He stopped and turned back to
Starbuck, "You wouldn't be some advance scout for some convoy would you?"
     Starbuck chuckled, "No, no, this would be a very bad place to bring
an unarmed ship, wouldn't it?"
     "That it would," the man conceded.
     Starbuck took another swig from the bottle and looked back at the
shuttle, where the number of piled cases still awed him, especially at
the thought that they contained 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 those pirates have?"
     With Starbuck's back turned to him, the man abruptly picked up his
discarded pipe and brought it down on the back of Starbuck's head.  In an
instant, the warrior crashed to the ground, unconscious.
     "I'm sorry lad," he looked down at Starbuck's motionless form, "But
that beauty you're flying is the answer to all my dreams."
     He then turned away and headed off toward Starbuck's viper.


     Athena had spent nearly two centars conversing with Cassiopeia over
several glasses of ambrosia 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 ambrosia, Athena didn't feel the least bit
impaired, and she still felt too much stored energy inside her to think
of turning in.  She decided to go back to the Bridge and resume her
shift.
     "Colonel Tigh," she said as she arrived, "I'd like to monitor the
status of Recon Viper One."
     The executive officer nodded, "Okay, you can relieve Omega."
     Athena found the Bridge Officer grateful to finally give up his
vigil watching a 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 cycle.
     Ten centons went by, 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.
     "Colonel," she called over, "Recon Viper One is airborne again."
     "Good," Tigh said, "Maybe he found something significant and is
investigating further."


     The man nervously climbed into Starbuck's cockpit and saw to his
relief that the controls vaguely resembled what he'd seen in the past, so
that he would have no difficulty taking off.  Whether he could control
and fly the ship was another matter entirely.
     He placed the discarded helmet on his head, sealed the canopy shut,
and saying a prayer to the Lords that he had failed to honor for so much
of his life, he hit the launch control button.  In an instant, he could
feel a surge of power unlike any other he'd known in his life as the
viper took off from the asteroid and assumed an uneven heading.
     "Incredible," he whispered, "Have they made these kinds of
advancements in Colonial Civilization after all this time?  It must be a
Paradise back there by now."
     But he knew that if he didn't figure out how the rest of these
systems worked, his flight would be a short one, and with it, his life
would likely come to an end.
     He began to hit the various switches and knobs he could see, hoping
that one of them would give him more clear instructions on how to
maneuver this craft.  Finally, his hand passed over the switch labeled
CORA.
     "Finally decided to turn me back on?"
     The man looked about the cockpit in stunned disbelief, and it took
him a half centon to finally realize where the voice had come from.
     "Shall I scan for that fighter?"
     Immediately, the man began to relax as he realized he'd found the
key to what he was looking for.
     "Negative," he said.
     "Identify," a cold air abruptly entered CORA's voice.
     "Are you capable of flying this ship?"
     "Affirmative," the cold air persisted, "Identify."
     "All right then, control is yours," he said, "Assume course to
asteroid mass one zero, seven, seven five on far edge of binary system,
bearing delta seven."
     "Computed," CORA said, "Where's Lieutenant Starbuck?"
     The man ignored her question, "Prepare to transmit intergalactic
signal on narrow beam."
     "Affirmative," CORA persisted, "What happened to Starbuck?"
     "Just do as you're told," the man settled back and for the first
time in many yahrens smiled.  "And thank you very much."


     Athena continued to watch the beacon assume a new heading, taking it
in the direction of something that the Galactica's scanners had not
previously noted.  A larger, denser group of asteroids located on the
back side of the binary star system.
     "Rigel," she called over, "Do Star Maps have readings on that other
group of asteroids?"
     "Negative," the young flight corporal answered, "They're not on the
charts at all.  Proteus is the only one named."
     "I see.  Thanks." she shook her head slightly, "I wonder what he
sees there?"
     Abruptly, she noticed something new in her earpiece, which was set
to monitor any emergency short-range scrambled signal that might come
from the Recon Viper.  But instead, she heard something completely
different.
     "What in Hades?" she muttered in disbelief and called over to the
executive officer, "Colonel!"
     Tigh came over.  "Yes?"
     "Something odd.  Recon Viper One is transmitting, but....it's a long
range signal."
     "Long range?" Tigh's eyes narrowed, "Are you sure?"
     "Positive.  And it's not scrambled either.  It's.....some kind of
code being sent on a narrow beam."
     A look of horror came over the executive officer's face, "What's
that fool doing?  He might as well be broadcasting a signal direct to the
Cylons!"
     "I don't know," Athena was baffled, "Maybe his short-range
transmitter is out, and....well that doesn't make sense either, because
why would he use an unknown code?"
     "An unknown code?  You are sure of that?"
     "So far, yes," Athena flicked a switch and began to cross-check what
she was hearing in the data base.  "I'm not seeing anything that
matches."
     Tigh rubbed his mouth, "Athena, start checking the Cylon code.  I'm
going to notify the Commander."


     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 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 but 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 outlast Baltar no matter what.
     "By your command," he said as he reached the base of the throne.
     Slowly it turned around, and Baltar gazed down at him with the same
piercing 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 gone
through all 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 military in the last several yahrens, for which we
do have full and complete records."
     "Not likely to offer us any clue to the Galactica then," Baltar
said, "Nevertheless, launch a probe group of fighters to investigate.  No
more than three."
     "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.

                         Chapter Three

     Adama wasted little time getting dressed and arriving on the bridge
as soon as he received Tigh's message.  Now, he stood hunched over
Athena's station with the executive officer, as they continued to look at
the perplexing data.
     "I think it's obvious what's happened, Commander," Tigh said, "We
must assume that a Cylon has either captured or killed Lieutenant
Starbuck, and is now in control of Recon Viper One."
     "But this code doesn't match any known Cylon ones!" Athena
protested, "With all due respect, Colonel, we can not 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, doesn't seem relevant 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!  The transmission has to be
stopped."
     Adama grimly nodded, "Alert my son, immediately.  Him
and.....Lieutenant Boomer.  They both know what they'll have to do."
     "Yes sir," Tigh said alertly as he moved off.


     Apollo had returned to his quarters a centar earlier and found Boxey
fast asleep.  A book lay open on his chest, indicating that the little
boy 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 Testament of Arkada,
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 Testament of Arkada had
said about Kobol's last days and the journey of the twelve tribes to the
Colonies.
     Instead of going to bed, Apollo sat down in the chair across from
Boxey's bed and began to thumb through it, 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 Colonial religion reinforced in him.
     After flipping through the pages, he realized that this was an
adapted version of the Testament, 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 bark.
     When he opened the door, he saw a grim-faced Boomer standing there.
     "Get yourself ready, buddy," his friend said grimly, "Something
serious has happened."


     The two warriors promptly went 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 could get," Apollo said, "Because of that
long-range transmission, we have to seek out and destroy Recon Viper
One."
     "With no questions asked?" Boomer could scarcely believe he was
being thrust in this situation.  "Shouldn't we at least try to establish
communications first?"
     "Negative," Apollo said firmly, "If that recon viper kicks in those
pulse generators, it'll leave us eating ion vapors in an instant and be
out of range.  If we get him lined up in our sights, it may be our only
chance to take him out."
     "I guess so," Boomer grunted, "Apollo, what about Starbuck-"
     "He's probably dead, Boomer.  He's certainly not flying that viper
since he wouldn't be fool enough to pull this stunt."
     "But what if he's not dead?" the dark-skinned warrior protested. 
"If that's the case, then whoever that pilot is, would know where he is!"
     "Boomer, that isn't our first concern!" Apollo raised his voice as
he sealed the canopy of his viper shut, "Our first concern is getting
that transmission shut off and making sure that the Cylons don't have a
beacon to this sector of space where they'd be able to scan the Fleet. 
Finding out what happened to Starbuck 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 what happened-----"
     "We'll discuss that later, Boomer, right now we've got to get going
and fast!  So let's end this pointless conversation and get started. 
That's an order!"
     The fight was gone from Boomer's voice as he powered up his systems,
"Yes sir," he muttered.
     And then, both vipers launched.


     The first thing Starbuck was aware of when he came to was the
sensation of excruciating pain throbbing in his head.  The second thing
he was aware of, was that he had foolishly let his guard down because of
his sudden fascination over a crate of vintage ambrosia, and he knew that
wasn't going to sit well when he made his final report on what had
happened.
     As he rolled over and cast a glance to his rear, the third thing he
became aware of was that his viper was gone.  The shuttle pilot, whoever
he was, had commandeered it and left Starbuck alone on the asteroid with
the ancient shuttle and a valuable cargo that was for all intents and
purposes worthless to the Galactica warrior.
     "Frack; felgercarb and shit!" he shouted, deciding that the
strongest epithet was called for on this occasion.  Once he'd vented his
anger, he now realized though that he needed to take action as fast as he
could, or else his slim chances of seeing the Galactica would be reduced
to non-existent.  And that meant making use of the shuttle.
     Still feeling woozy, he staggered into the shuttle and settled in
the pilot's seat.  Before him lay an instrument panel so out of date and
in need of maintenance, that he found it amazing it had been able to fly
at all.  
     "It's like trying to fly a museum," he said with exasperation.  "Of
all the times for me to wish I still had that blasted CORA."
     He activated the ignition thrusters, hoping they would catch.  At
first nothing happened.
     "Come on you piece of ancient felgercarb, ignite!" Starbuck shouted
as he hit the switch again.
     Finally, the shuttle seemingly wheezed to life and began to move. 
After the extraordinary smoothness of the recon viper, the sluggish
handling of this craft was a stark contrast, and one he wasn't sure he'd
be able to make the necessary adjustments to.
     "Okay," he clenched his teeth as the shuttle continued to rise,
"Okay, now keep going and break out of fracking orbit.  Yes!"
     No sooner did he feel a sense of relief over escaping the
gravitational pull of the asteroid, then he suddenly saw red streaks
passing over him.
     The fighter craft that had been chasing the shuttle before was back.
     "Oh frack!" Starbuck cursed, as he looked for the communications
channel.  His only hope of avoiding destruction was to let the pilot of
the fighter know that his intended target was no longer flying the
shuttle.
     The shuttle rocked slightly as the force of one laser shot again
narrowly missed the craft.  It was close enough for Starbuck to realize
that the next shot might mean absolute destruction.  He finally spotted
the communications receiver and set it to what he hoped was the unicom
frequency.
     "Thought you could get away from me, did you Robber?  Well now
you're about to find out the hard way," he could hear a gruff voice
coming through.  "Goodbye Robber."
     "Wait!"  Starbuck shouted, "Hold your fire!  I'm not Robber!  You're
making a mistake.  I'm not the one you were firing on before!"
     There was no response, and Starbuck anxiously held his breath.
     Finally, the gruff voice spoke again, "All right then.  If you're
telling the truth, you follow me in to Proteus, and don't even think of
running or else you're dead.  You got that?"
     "I got it, I got it!" Starbuck said with relief.  "Just let me talk
to you on the ground and I'll explain everything."
     "Oh that you will, my friend," the voice was dripping with
hostility.  "There'll be a nice armed group of men waiting for you."
     Great, Starbuck thought as he tucked himself in behind the fighter,
From one mess into another.  Gold passes aren't enough compensation for
these kinds of missions.
     As the two ships 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
similar to a prison facility.
     In an instant, he realized what purpose Proteus had served long ago
when it had been an active part of the Colonial Frontier.  A penal
colony.  The prisoners 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.
     But what kind of things were produced here?  Starbuck wondered.  And
how has this outpost been able to keep going after the Colonies forgot
about it so long ago?
     He brought his shuttle to a stop behind the fighter.  He could see
the canopy pop open and a balding middle-aged man with a full beard
emerge.  The man motioned with his arm and the next thing Starbuck
noticed was a group of armed men in identical gray uniforms with pistols
at the ready.
     Warily, Starbuck rose from the cockpit and opened the shuttle door. 
When he stepped outside, he had his hands in the air.
     "Okay fellows," he said disarmingly, "No need for a hostile
reception."
     "You've got a lot of explaining to do," the fighter pilot stepped
forward, indicating that he was the commander of this group.  "And you'll
do all your explaining to me, Commander Croad."
     "Oh nice to meet you," Starbuck said pleasantly, as he realized
where the man named Robber had come up with the phony name of Croaton for
the non-existent agro colony he said he had been going to.  "Name's
Starbuck.  Privateer.  There's ah.....been a little misunderstanding. 
You see, the guy you were looking for, he and I had an altercation."
     "Were you the one piloting the ship that disrupted me before, when I
had Robber in my sights?" Croad inquired coldly.
     Starbuck noticed that Croad's accent was similar to Robber's, with
'my' pronounced like it was 'me.'    "Well....." he hesitated slightly.
     "If you were, then that means you're in cahoots with Robber, and you
haven't had any altercation."
     "Look," Starbuck said patiently, "I never met Robber before.  I'm
just a privateer passing through this system, and I saw what I thought
was an unarmed ship being attacked, and then when I checked on him, he
knocked me out and left me this shuttle and his worthless cargo of agro
parts!"
     Croad motioned to two of the guards to enter the shuttle.  One of
them looked down at the open crate of ambrosia and nodded at the
commander, "It's all here, sir.  Every unaccounted for crate."
     "Worthless cargo of agro parts, eh?" Croad snarled.  "You've got a
shuttle load full of ambrosia that came from here, and you already knew
that since the crate is opened.  Now why'd you lie if you're not in
cahoots with Robber trying to help him escape, and then smuggle out this
bounty for yourself?"
     Starbuck cursed himself again, wondering why he'd told that fib
about the agro parts.  Was he still hoping to find one way of keeping the
valuable stash and making something out of it if he could get back to the
Galactica?
     You are dumb, Starbuck, he said to himself.  Completely dumb.
     "Ah, tell you what," he grinned sheepishly, trying to put all the
Starbuck charm into his voice.  "Maybe we can make a deal."
     "No deal....Bootlegger!" Croad pointed his pistol at him, "Now get
moving!  You're now part of the Proteus Colony."
     Warily, Starbuck began to move, with the guards keeping their
pistols pointed at his back.

     
     It had not been an easy time for Apollo or Boomer, as they continued
to track Recon Viper One on their scanners, and assumed a heading that
would take them to it.  For both of them, they knew that once they
fulfilled their mission objective, they would have to face the prospect
that the man who was best friend to both of them, was gone forever.  But
for now, they also knew that they had to maintain their professional
instincts to take care of a potentially greater danger to the Fleet.
     "Still got him tracked," Boomer said, "Whoever's flying this has to
be stupid to have kept the marker beacon active."
     "Agreed," Apollo nodded, "He's headed for the asteroid on the back
end of the binary system, one zero, seven, seven five, bearing delta
seven."
     "Looks as if he wants to land there," Boomer noted, "That means he
might not be thinking of using the full speed he's got if he gets trapped
down there."
     "So much the better for us."  Apollo took a breath.  "Okay Boomer,
let's go to max turbo and get the drop on him."
     "And then?" Boomer knew it was pointless asking, but he just wanted
to see if Apollo could answer the question with the same unfeeling
professionalism he'd been outwardly displaying all this time.
     As he expected, Apollo was true to form.  "We carry out the mission,
Boomer.  That's all there is to it."
     "Okay," Boomer said, "But after that, why not head back to the
asteroid Starbuck landed on?  If that's where Recon Viper One got
commandeered, then it's a likely bet he's still there."
     "Boomer, we'll take that into consideration only after we're done
with our primary mission objective.  Now stay focused on nothing else
right now!" Apollo was putting all the command emphasis he possibly could
into his voice.
     "Yes sir," Boomer acknowledged with resignation.


     They had marched Starbuck through the warehouse complex, past the
small dwellings and into the massive doorway that he realized was the
entrance to the prison complex.
     "Wait a centon!" Starbuck protested.  "Don't I get any chance to
state a defense?  This is Colonial territory, isn't it?"
     "Our law is all that's good here, Bootlegger!" Croad snarled and
shoved his pistol in Starbuck's back.  "Don't say one more word."
     "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.  The cot he lay on was decayed and offered no comfort at all.
     "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
the wall of his cell.  It 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.
     Before he had a chance to study it further, he heard a booming voice
from somewhere behind.
     "Got a new one here, don't we?  What's your name, lad?"
     Starbuck turned around and made his way to the bars of his cell. 
Directly across from him, he could see a strikingly dark-haired beautiful
woman in something that resembled a tattered socialator's costume.  If he
hadn't been feeling so woozy from being hit twice on the head, and angry
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.
     The source of the voice came from further down the cell block.  A
tall, powerfully built man with a beard even fuller than Croad's.  Again,
Starbuck noticed how the accent was just like Robber's and Croad's, with
the curious mix of Aerian and Aquarian dialects.  The man was holding a
bottle of ambrosia 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.
     "Hi," Starbuck slowly waved his arm in acknowledgment, "Name's
Starbuck."
     "Starbuck?"  the bearded one frowned in contemplation.  "That's
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 swig.  There was an almost friendly air of
camaraderie 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 ambrosia?"
     "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.  "This is a penal
colony, right?"
     "Oh yes indeed, you're right about that.  Proteus prison.  I'm
Assault 9, and across from you is Adulteress 58, and next to you is
Forger 7.  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.  That meant
this 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 ambrosia.  "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."
     "Ah, but they're one and the same boy!" the small man called Forger
spoke up.  He was wearing an ancient pair of spectacles, which said much
about how far out of date this colony was.  Eyeglasses and spectacles had
become obsolete in Colonial civilization more than five hundred yahrens
before.  "Your offense is your name for life!  That's one of the rules
here!"
     "Huh?" Starbuck's perplexed expression only increased.  "What are
you talking about?"
     Adulteress let out a tipsy sounding laugh, "You hear this one?  You
suppose our original sinners were just as ignorant as he is?"
     "Original sinners?" Starbuck wondered if he'd wandered into another
Nuthouse.
     "Why yes, boy, yes!" Assault boomed out in a cheery tone.  "Our
ancestors.  The ones who were first sentenced here."
     Things began to add up for Starbuck, "You mean you're all in prison
because of crimes committed by your ancestors?"
     "Well at least we're not an original sinner, like you," Forger shot
back in an almost patronizing tone.  "All we have to do is just
superficially emulate 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 just a name!"
     "Ah!" 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."
     "Oh you are, are you?" Assault crowded closer to the bars, his arms
stretching through them.  "You've been in the Home Quadrant then?  You
have news of the war?"
     Starbuck eyed him cautiously, "The war?"
     "Of course man, the war between the Colonies and the Cylon Empire!" 
Forger held up his bottle with pride, "We supply ambrosia for the
Colonial Warriors!"
     "You what?" the Galactica warrior wondered how much crazier things
could get.
     "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 Proteus was originally to provide munitions and
ambrosia for the war effort," Assault said, "When the munitions ran out,
we just kept on making the only thing we could, the ambrosia.  We've been
making it for eight-hundred yahrens."
     "And we'll keep doing it for another eight-hundred!  Until the war
is finally won!"  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.


     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 decipher. 
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, "And 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.
     "We've ah...." 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 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.
     Just my luck, Cassiopeia thought.  I get over losing Cain, and then
I fall in love with a 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.
     "Commander," she called over to Adama, "More transmissions from
Recon Viper One.  Same code, same beam heading."
     Behind her, Cassiopeia was staring at the computer readout and
blinking, as though she didn't believe what she just saw.
     "Rigel," Adama called over to the flight corporal, who had taken
over the rest of Omega's duties since the Bridge Officer had left for
sleep cycle, "What's Captain Apollo's status?"
     "He and Lieutenant Boomer will make contact with Recon Viper One in
less than two centons."
     "Well it should all be over soon."
     "Commander-" Cassiopeia said haltingly, not sure whether she should
speak up.
     "We get that signal stopped, and then the worst danger is over." 
Adama went on without hearing her.
     "Commander, wait!" Cassiopeia spoke up as she now saw symbols that
were all too familiar to her.  "I know what that code is.  It's an Aerian
merchant code!"
     "What?" Adama bolted forward in his seat.
     "My father was a merchant, and I used to transmit messages for him,"
Cassiopeia's words came out rapidly as the urgency of the situation
became clear to her, "That is an Aerian merchant code.  I'm sure of it."
     "A merchant code," Tigh said in disbelief, as though he were mad at
himself for not having considered the possibility.  "Of course.  If old
settlements that were part of the Colonial Frontier still existed after
all these centuries, they would still know how to use those."
     "Athena, get out the manual, fast!" Adama said, "Find out what that
message is saying!"
     "Cross-checking," Athena rapidly hit the keyboard and summoned up
some new files with all the speed she could manage.  A half-centon went
by before the results came up.
     "Commander, I've got it!  The message is a request for the
coordinates back to the Colonies!"
     "That explains it!"  Adama came up from his seat, "The pilot must be
a human who doesn't realize the Colonies are in Cylon hands now.  He must
have stolen Starbuck's ship as a way of getting back to the home
civilization they've lost contact with!"
     "Then is destroying the ship necessary?" Athena whipped her head
toward him.
     Adama took a half micron to contemplate that and then turned to
Rigel, who was monitoring the status of the two vipers.
     "Rigel, get word to them immediately!  The destruct order is
countermanded!"
     "Yes sir!" Rigel said, and activated the communications channel,
"Blue Squadron disengage!  Destruct order is canceled!  I repeat,
destruct order is canceled!"
     Now, an anxious silence came over the Bridge as they wondered if the
order had been given in time.

     
     Apollo and Boomer came out of their maximum speed above the desolate
landscape of an asteroid, and could now see the clear form of Recon Viper
One up ahead.
     "Activate attack computers," Apollo said, his voice not revealing
the sick tension he felt inside.  He had vowed to keep up the most
professional facade all throughout the mission, but when he returned to
the Galactica and had to confront the reality of Starbuck being dead, he
knew he'd have an emotional breakdown.  The important thing was to not
have it.....yet.
     "Attack computer activated," Boomer said, the emotion in his voice
was reduced to a trickle but it was still there.  "I have him in sight. 
Should be locked on in five, four, three, two------"
     Abruptly, the sound of Rigel's voice filled both their cockpits. 
"Blue Squadron disengage!  Destruct order is canceled!  I repeat,
destruct order is canceled!"
     "Pull up!  Pull up!"  Apollo shouted.
     Boomer's finger was above the fire button, ready to press down on
it.  He quickly pulled his hand away and then with the other hand pulled
back on the control stick.  Behind him, Apollo did the same until they
both returned to a standard orbit above the asteroid.
     "Galactica, we acknowledge countermanding of destruct order.  What
are your current instructions?"
     A micron later they heard Adama's voice, "Apollo, we read Recon
Viper One as landing on the asteroid.  Go down and investigate, using
extreme caution.  The pilot of that craft is clearly a human who was
trying to find instructions on how to get back to the Colonies.  Confront
him and you might be able to find out what happened to Starbuck."
     "I copy," Apollo felt a sense of partial relief returning to him. 
"Indications are that he's shut off his transmitter for now."
     "Good, good, so much the better.  Notify me as soon as you learn
anything."
     "Blue Leader out."  Apollo switched frequencies, "Okay Boomer, let's
head in and find out who this thief is."
     "I'm anxious to find out too."


     "You're very lucky, honey," CORA's sarcastic voice filled the Recon
Viper One cockpit.  "The pursuing Colonial vipers pulled up at the last
micron just as they were preparing to fire on you.  Why didn't you listen
to me and let me leave them behind standing?"
     The man called Robber stared dubiously at the terminal.  "I told you
to shut up and just fly to the programmed coordinates I gave you!" he
said angrily.
     "Even though it nearly got you killed," CORA sighed, "My, you humans
are so stubborn, but at least Starbuck had some more agreeable qualities. 
We're headed in for landing in five, four, three, two, one and
touchdown."
     The viper came to a stop on the asteroid surface.  Robber threw off
his helmet and popped open the canopy.
     "Oh and by the way honey, those two vipers are now headed back in
for precision landing right next to us.  They'll be on the ground in two
centons."
     "Shut up!" Robber said in frustration one last time, as he dropped
to the ground and ran as far away from the viper as he could.

     Aboard the Galactica, there was a general air of relief throughout
the bridge.  Adama made his way over to Athena's station, where
Cassiopeia remained standing.
     "Thank you for your help, Cassiopeia," Adama smiled, "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.
     As soon as Adama had gone, Athena let out a relaxed sigh of relief.
     "Well, you just saved some poor Aerian's life, and maybe Starbuck's
too." the commander's daughter said.
     "Let's hope so," Cassiopeia smiled thinly.
     "Of course it won't change anything when he gets back," Athena found
herself able to resume that edge of lighthearted jabbing they'd done in
their conversation on the Rising Star.  "I'd like to think of us as
friendly rivals, Cassiopeia, but we are still rivals ultimately."
     "Athena, I wouldn't want it any other way.  Just so long as we stay
friendly."
     Athena reached out her hand, "Warrior's pledge of honor,"
     The two of them shared a friendly handshake, and then Cassiopeia
finally decided to leave the Bridge.  When she reached the doorway that
led out to the main corridor, the blonde med-tech turned around and
looked back at Athena, who had returned to her work.
     Athena, if I don't end up winning, you're the only person I wouldn't
mind seeing win instead, she thought.  And if I end up winning, I hope by
all the Lords, that there's someone else out there for you because you
deserve it.

                    Chapter Four
     
     As soon as Apollo and Boomer were on the ground, the first thing
they noticed was that their vipers, as well as that of Recon Viper One,
were parked in close proximity to what seemed like an abandoned town
square.  Four decaying structures lined each side of a dirt road,
suggesting that even at its prime, it had never reached a state of true
development.
     Almost like Equellas, Apollo thought for the briefest instant, as
the memory of his own experience that had left him lost for a brief time
came back to him.  That was an experience he had chosen to keep buried
inside him forever, never so much as revealing a single detail about what
he'd gone through to anyone.  He had never wanted to be in the position
of admitting to anyone, especially his family, that he had felt a strong
temptation to stay behind on Equellas forever.
     He pushed the thought back into his subconscious as he pulled out
his micro-scanner and held his laser pistol in the other hand.
     "Okay, activating micro-scan," he waited for readout, "Got him.  The
snitrod is in that building over there," he motioned his laser pistol
toward the largest structure on the left side of the street.  "And he's
hiding in back of the archway, waiting to get a shot off at us."
     "Let's take him out," Boomer cocked his pistol with determination.
     Apollo grabbed the dark-skinned warrior's arm, "You've been hanging
around Starbuck so much, that you've forgotten how to take orders.  We
don't take him out, yet.  We try to nab him alive so we can find out what
happened to Starbuck."
     Boomer smiled crookedly at him, "If I'm starting to act like
Starbuck a lot, then that means I have to let you be my conscience.  But
how do we nab him alive, when he's clearly going to open fire as soon as
he sees us?"
     "Good question," Apollo checked his micro-scanner, and then frowned,
"Wait a centon, something else just popped up on here."  The captain
studied it intently for several microns and then nodded.
     "What?"  Boomer asked, "What do you see?"
     "I think I figured out how to get him to surrender," Apollo said,
"Boomer, I want you to backtrack your way around to the other side of
those buildings on the left side of the street.  Then enter the back end
of the second building from where he's lying in wait.  Can you see it?"
     Boomer glanced over Apollo's shoulder and studied the layout
intently.  "Yeah, I see it, but what do you expect me to do-----"
     Apollo pointed the micro-scan in Boomer's face without saying
anything.  The lieutenant looked at it and nodded.  "I see what you mean. 
As soon as I'm there, I'll signal you."
     Boomer stealthily retreated some fifty metrones and then made a hard
left turn that would take him to the backside of the buildings lining the
town square.  Apollo glanced back at the micro-scanner so he could follow
the warrior's progress.  After thirty microns, he decided to make his
first move.
     "All right, Mister!" Apollo shouted, "We know you're there, so come
out with your hands up!"
     There was no response at first, and then suddenly Apollo saw two
laser streaks emit from the archway.  He ducked and easily eluded them. 
It had clearly been a shot of defiance, and not the result of careful
aiming.
     "Mister, I'm warning you.  You're going to come out now, with your
hands up, whether you like it or not!"
     Another defiant shot came from behind the archway.  Apollo checked
his micro-scan again and saw that in another five microns it would be
over.
     "Apollo!" he heard Boomer's distant voice shout, "I've got my pistol
trained on a woman and child in the back!"
     "No!" Robber suddenly emerged from the archway and threw the laser
pistol he'd stolen from Starbuck to the ground.  "No, please!  Do
whatever you want with me, but leave my wife and child alone!"
     "Only if you put your hands up now!" Apollo snarled, determined to
show no sympathy at this point, especially if Starbuck was already dead. 

     "They're up, they're up!" Robber extended his hands in the air, his
words coming out in that rapid-fire delivery, "Just please don't hurt my
wife and child!"
     "That depends on the answer to a certain question I've got for you,"
Apollo trained his laser pistol right at Robber's face, the pent-up
emotion he'd felt over Starbuck was now releasing itself in pure anger. 
"What happened to Starbuck?"
     "Starbuck?"  Robber frowned and then he realized what he meant,
"That's your friend, right?  The one that ship belongs to?  Well I didn't
kill him, believe me, I didn't!  And I'll be happy to take you back to
where he probably is!"
     "That's better!" Apollo came up to him and grabbed Robber by the
arm, "Boomer, you don't have to train your pistol on them anymore!"
     "Okay.  But I never had it trained on them, actually."
     Robber darted his head toward Apollo, "You tricked me."
     "Naturally," Apollo smiled with satisfaction, "You really didn't
think we'd stoop to killing, did you?"
     "I don't know," Robber said, "But I guess I've forgotten all about
what Colonial warriors are supposed to be like.  You....are Colonial
warriors, aren't you?"
     "We are.  And so is Starbuck."
     "I see," Robber felt chastened as Apollo motioned him inside. "I
guess there's much I need to learn from you, just as you need to learn
some things from me."
     "We'll go over that inside," the fury was gone from Apollo's voice
as they reached the back room.  Boomer was already there, while in
another corner, Apollo could see a blonde woman of twenty-five, holding a
girl of eight close to her.  Like Robber, their clothes were tattered and
reflected a long out-of-date style.
     "This is my wife Jana, and my daughter Tania," Robber motioned, "My
name is....well officially my name is Robber 12, but I don't want to be
known by that name any longer.  I want to be called by my ancestor's
name, Joab, the original sinner."
     "Original sinner?" Boomer came forward, frowning.  "What are you
talking about?"
     "Hold it," Apollo raised his hand, "Before we hear about your past,
Robber, or Joab, or whatever, I want to know where you left Starbuck."
     "I left him on the asteroid he set his ship down on.  But there's no
way he'd still be there, if he was a smart beggar, which I'm sure he is,
even if he did drop his guard and let me knock him out."
     "Explain," Apollo was still not ready to be friendly.
     "He had access to my shuttle craft.  I'm sure the first thing he
would have done was take off, but that would probably mean he fell into
the hands of the Enforcers on Proteus, and is their prisoner now."
     "Okay," Apollo said, his tone neutral, "So that means he isn't
wounded, or in danger of being killed."
     "No sir, I don't see how that could be," Robber said hastily.  "I'll
do all I can to help you get him back, but there's no need to do it right
away.  Not until you know what you'd be up against."
     Apollo finally felt secure putting his laser pistol back in his
holster.
     "All right," the captain said, "We're listening."


     Far away, three Cylon fighters emerged from the asteroid dust cloud
that the Colonial Fleet had long since passed through.  Because the Cylon
fighters had been specifically 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 ion fuel traces, which would have provided clear indications
that the Colonial 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.


     The early morning shift had now taken over on the Galactica's
bridge, which meant Omega had returned from his sleep cycle to replace
Athena.  The Bridge Officer had been settled in at his console for only
two centons when he noticed something on the rear-scan monitor.
     "Commander!" he called.
     Adama set his mug of java down and descended the steps.  Tigh had
walked over from the other side and arrived at the same instant.
     "What is it?" the commander leaned over Omega's shoulder.
     "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."
     "What's their course heading?"
     Omega tightened the scan concentration on the three blips.  "They
don't appear to be following us.  They seem to be headed in the direction
of where Blue Squadron forced Recon Viper One down."
     "Then that means the Cylons heard that long-range transmission and
sent out a patrol to investigate," the executive officer noted.
     "Yes," Adama nodded, "But it's clear they couldn't decipher what it
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 transmission, or
else they would have been able to pick up the Fleet on a wide
concentrated scan.  That means we have to move out of their maximum scan
range potential as soon as possible."
     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 as he looked back at the monitor,
"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, "Do it, Colonel."
     Tigh nodded, "Yes sir."


      It took Robber twenty centons to explain the history of the Proteus
colony and how it operated to this day, long after Proteus had ceased to
be an active part of the Colonial Frontier.
     "My ancestor Joab, was an Aerian merchant, who was sentenced to
Proteus for stealing a cargo load of valcron and silk."  Robber was
saying, "He was the original sinner in my family.  But he taught the
merchant codes to his son, and it was passed on by every subsequent
generation down to my father who taught it to me.  It was always meant to
be a symbol of hope to the one who finally was able to break free from
the Enforcers, and return to the home world of our ancestors."
     "How did you escape?" Apollo was fascinated by the narrative.
     "It's not as difficult as you think, Captain," Robber 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 Proteus to
one of these nearby smaller asteroids.  That's how I got Jana and Tania
off first."
     "Wait a centon," Boomer said disbelievingly.  "You just walk out of
your cell?"
     "Yes, Lieutenant," Robber smiled mirthlessly, "The locks on those
cells haven't worked in generations.  All the prisoners know that.  The
Enforcers know that, and it would be too cumbersome a task to have them
fixed."
     "Then why do they stay there?"
     "Because 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 ambrosia for the Colonial warriors and that they'd be guilty
of treason if they thought of themselves first."
     "That's unreal," Boomer shook his head, "They never bothered to ask
why no Colonial freighters ever came by to pick up the stocks?"
     "The Enforcers told them the regular pick-ups 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 Croad 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 civilization hadn't forgotten them,
and that it was important they keep Proteus 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 got your wife and daughter off
Proteus to this safe haven, why didn't you just head straight for the
Colonies?"
     "Because my ship wasn't capable of going that far, and I had no idea
where the nearest operational outpost on the Colonial Frontier was after
all these centuries."  Robber 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 your friend
Starbuck, I realized the Lords of Kobol had finally answered a prayer of
mine.  I knew I'd have to make adjustments to it to fit the three of us
into it, but it was my best hope."
     "And he didn't mean no harm to your friend!" Robber's wife Jana
spoke up for the first time, "He did it for Tania, he did!  That was all. 
We couldn't stand the thought of raising her in that prison like we were,
and our parents and grandparents before us."
     "I see," Apollo continued to nod, this time in 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," Robber 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 for everyone on Proteus
in the Fleet."  Apollo said, "That goes for the Enforcers 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 Proteus no
longer applies."
     "That's true," Robber conceded.  "In that case Captain, I'm willing
to lead you and the lieutenant back to Proteus and do what I can to not
just rescue your friend, but to rescue all of the people there."
     "All right then," Apollo nodded and turned to Jana and Tania, "The
two of you will be safe here until we finish the mission objective.  No
matter what happens, we'll get word back to the Galactica and send a
shuttle here to pick you up.  Can you sit tight until then?"
     "Certainly, Captain," Jana nodded, "We've waited this long, a few
more centars makes no difference to us.  Just so long as we're free
again."
     "You will be," Apollo said firmly, "You have my solemn word as a
Colonial warrior."


     "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 own chair on the upper
level and reached for his mug to finish off his fourth cup of java.  As
soon as he tasted it he winced as he realized it had gone cold since he'd
set it down.
     It won't be long before there's none of this left, he thought.  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 chuckle as he set the mug down.  Ila had been
the most addicted java drinker of anyone he ever knew.  Her day was never
complete without at least five to seven cups or mugs of the steaming dark
liquid.  And no matter how much she might have considered too much java
bad for her health, she continued to drink it just the same, and he could
remember plenty of times throughout their marriage when she would get
irritable if they'd run out of java and she was unable to have any.
     I wonder how all the other compulsive java drinkers like she was are
coping now?
     "Colonel," Adama came forward in his seat.  "Now that we're out of
scanning range of those fighters, have the Fleet return to a
straight-line heading 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 I know 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 Testament of Arkada.
     "Well, I'm glad to see you find it so interesting, Boxey," Adama
said as he reached for his grandson so he could sit him down on his knee.
"What part do you like the most?"
     "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 how Arkada describes it, I wouldn't be trying to
find it."
     "How will we know how to find it?"
     "Well let's see," 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 so many yahrens ago and
keep it in his library aboard the Galactica.  "Ah, here it is.  On page
twenty, Arkada talks about how the people of Kobol first learned about
what kind of system Earth lay in.  In a system of nine planets orbiting a
bright yellow sun.  And Earth, a shining blue plant that held more
abundance than any other planet ever scanned by man, is the third planet
in that system." he pointed at the pages, "Here it even describes what
the other planets in the system are like and why the people of Kobol knew
that only Earth was suitable for them to settle on."
     "I wish they'd drawn a map of it, like they do for the other
things," Boxey said.
     Adama smiled as he hugged his grandson and then placed the book back
in Boxey's hand, "Maybe if you put your mind together, you could draw a
map yourself, just the way it's described here.  And then when your
father comes back from his mission, you can give it to him as a gift."
     Boxey held the book with a thoughtful expression and then looked up
at him, "He is coming 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.
     "I'll do that," he said, "Thanks Grandpa."
     "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 Proteus.  The less he conversed with the
prisoners, the better he felt.
     At first, Starbuck noticed how on the outer areas of the walls,
there were a number of drawings of what 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 side 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 the person who had drawn 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 design.  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.
     Some kind of emblem, Starbuck thought.  But of what?
     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, not too large in size.  A considerable amount of care had
gone into sketching a series of planets and their orbital paths around
the sun.  He counted the number of planets depicted and saw nine.  The
planets varied in size from a tiny red speck that was the closest to the
sun, to a massive reddish-white one that was fifth furthest.  The sixth
planet was second largest and had a strange set of rings circling its
equator.
     Starbuck's eyes then narrowed on the third planet.  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 third planet is where the artist came from, Starbuck
thought.  But that doesn't look like 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.
     "Take your new bottle of ambrosia, Bootlegger."
     Starbuck turned around and a disgusted look came over him when he
saw an Enforcer standing outside his cell.  Next to him was a rack of
ambrosia bottles that was being wheeled from cell to cell.
     "My name's Starbuck," he said coldly.
     "From now on your name is Bootlegger 137," the guard tossed a marker
through the bars, "Put that around your neck, and remember the first
rule.  Never argue with an Enforcer."
     Starbuck got to his feet, "137, huh?  I would have thought being an
original sinner entitled me to be number one."  He picked up the marker
with disdain and flung it aside.  "I don't need to put myself in a
drunken stupor if I don't want to."
     "You'll take your new bottle and drink!"
     "You can take the new bottle and stick it up----" Starbuck started
angrily as he placed his hands on the door, and then stopped in stunned
surprise when he saw it swing open.
     A gasp went up from the other prisoners, who were all at the bars
watching in concern.
     "Go back!" the small man called Forger waved his hand, "Go back in
your cell!"
     "Close that door!" the Enforcer barked, "That's an order!"
     Starbuck swung it open further and stepped outside, "Then g