Battlestar Galactica: Living Legend by Eric J. Paddon Based on Battlestar Galactica created by Glen A. Larson This is a work of fan-fiction and is not intended to infringe on any copyright laws From The Adama Journals A half yahren has passed since the day of destruction that precipitated our flight across the stars in search of the Thirteenth Tribe of humanity on the planet Earth. And for the first time in our journey, the magnitude of how long this journey may be for ourselves and perhaps our descendants, has begun to weigh heavily on me. Throughout the early portion of this journey, we have passed planets and star systems that have long been familiar to us as names in Colonial star charts, if not as places we had actually frequented at one time in our lives. But each of them, whether the ice planet Arcta, the prison planet Proteus, or the agro-community of Serenity, at least was a place that knew of the Colonies and was still nominally part of Colonial culture. Descendants of travelers who'd set out from the Twelve worlds sometime before the dark period of the thousand yahren war with the Cylons began, and had gradually become forgotten over time. I sense now though, that the likelihood of encountering any other isolated human outpost descended from the Colonies in the future is apt to be quite remote. Within a matter of sectans, we will reach a point in space where there will be nothing in front of us that had previously been charted by Colonial astronomers. The stars will have no known names to us. And any lifeforms we encounter, are apt to be of an alien breed unknown to us. But tempered with that knowledge is that if we are to find any new signs of humanity by then, then surely those humans will represent the first definite link to Earth and the ultimate location of the Thirteenth Tribe. But enough of my optimistic speculations. For now, we are facing the danger of two crises that threaten to bring our journey to a sad, premature end. Not only do we still find ourselves continuing to dodge the Cylon task force that nearly did us in at Arcta, we now face the equally grave crisis of a looming fuel shortage for the 220 ships of our Fleet. This motley assortment of tankers, freighters, skybuses, and random luxury ships like the Rising Star have in the last six sectars traveled distances that none of them were ever designed for. And because of that, those ships that house the weary 70,000 survivors of our population face the problem every sectar of running completely out of fuel. A problem that does not affect the Galactica given the self-generating nature of our reactor engines, but one that is common to all of the other ships which badly need tylium supplies to keep going. Until now, we had always successfully managed to avoid this potential crisis by finding fuel supplies from isolated outposts and other planets known to us with natural tylium deposits, not to mention the extra reserves we managed to get from Carillon at the beginning of the journey. But now, with no known outposts in front of us, the question of where we find tylium or another fuel source next, has become our most pressing problem. Should a solution not be found soon, I will be forced to bring this entire Fleet to a dead stop. And doing that only enables the pursuing task force to have a greater chance of finding us, and finishing us off once and for all. We are fast reaching the point where perhaps our greatest need is something miraculous. Chapter One "Finishing scan of delta sector. Absolutely nothing." Apollo let out a faint sigh of disgust as he eased his viper out of automatic heading. "All right Starbuck, maybe gamma sector has something other than just an empty void of nothing. Let's proceed there before calling it quits." "I thought the word quit wasn't in your vocabulary," Starbuck joshed as he pulled his viper up alongside his friend's. Apollo didn't answer. He wasn't in the mood for any kind of kidding retort when the magnitude of what they needed to find on their patrol was staring him in the face ever since his father had told him about the deteriorating fuel situation in the Fleet. If they didn't find a planetary system soon where tylium was located, then the Fleet would be brought to an absolute standstill, with just the motion of space to guide the powerless crafts along at the pace of an insect. Leaving them wide open for attack the instant the Cylon pursuit force managed to locate them. Starbuck took immediate note of his friend's silence and turned his attention back to his scanner. The brash lieutenant wasn't about to let himself feel the same sense of pessimism Apollo felt. After what he'd been through on Atilla not too long ago, he was determined to keep an optimistic frame of mind for any situation. Then again, that was always his first instinct, because if he ever developed any kind of fatalistic or pessimistic view about anything, Starbuck always felt his mind would crack before his life ended. And that was something he had no intention of ever letting happen to him. "Hey Apollo," Starbuck's voice brightened as he looked at his scanner. "There's definite sign of a star system in gamma sector. Can only pick up about one planet and.....you know this is really interesting. Preliminary scan indicates definite signs of technology." "That's encouraging." Apollo noted. "Maybe-" Abruptly, the captain fell silent. "Apollo?" Starbuck cocked his head towards Apollo's viper. "Apollo what is it?" "Unknown contacts approaching, and fast!" his voice suddenly rose. "Where?" the lieutenant frowned. "There's nothing in front of us at all." "I'm on rear scan. They're behind us." The blonde lieutenant looked at his scanner and saw them. Two blips rapidly closing on them at what could only be maximum turbo speed. "Can you get an ID on them?" "Not yet." Apollo shook his head. "Maybe in another few microns." "How close are they?" Before he could answer, two massive red streaks abruptly shot through the area right between the two vipers. "What the frack?" "They're firing on us, whoever they are!" Apollo shouted. "It doesn't look good. Go to max turbos and take evasive action, fast! I'm going right." "I'll take left!" and then for no good reason other than it just seemed like something he needed to say, he added, "Good luck old buddy." Both vipers went into a roll pattern and activated their turbo thrusters. But Apollo already knew that they had been left at a disadvantage because of their slower speed beforehand, because the pursuing contacts, whoever they were, surely were able to track them and pinpoint exactly where they were going. Apollo felt the sweat break out on his forehead as he activated his distress beacon, and hoped that the signal wasn't being jammed. "Can you see them?" he heard Starbuck's voice through his helmet. An edge of panic had crept into the brash warrior's voice. "No," he shook his head. "And I don't dare take a micron to scan them for ID or else they'll have time for a clean shot." "Likewise," Starbuck grunted, feeling his optimistic veneer fading slightly. "Barely staying ahead of their firing range as it is." Another barrage of red streaks passed over each of their respective vipers. The force strong enough to cause both of their crafts to shake violently and cause some instrument panels to throw faint sparks.. "Well, whoever they are, they're damn good flyers, I can tell you that." Apollo grunted as he struggled to keep his hand steady on the turbo control. There was almost a sense of admiration in his tone. Never before in his entire career as a viper pilot had any Cylon fighter been able to drop on him from out of nowhere and put him into such a precarious position. Now, from out of nowhere someone else had emerged to make a mockery out of all his yahrens of careful training. "Apollo, I can't shake him!" Starbuck's voice rose. "He's practically up on my exhaust port!" "I'm in the same fix!" Apollo could scarcely believe what was happening. He was being outflown in every sense of the word, and that was a scenario he was simply not used to. "There's no way I can lose him!" It just seemed too incredible for Apollo to believe that the end was going to come so fast. In his mind, if he were ever fated to die in a combat flight situation it would only come at the climax of a long hard-fought battle. Not in something like this, where he'd barely had any time to realize what was happening to him. He wondered why another barrage of fire didn't come. By this point he had to be offering a clear target to his pursuer. So clear that in an instant he'd feel the jolt, and then experience the red flash of explosion for a millimicron before death would come. And then....perhaps have to tell the loved ones who'd already gone before like Serina, Zac and his mother that he'd simply screwed up and been outclassed by a superior pilot. But nothing happened. No more red streaks emerged. He glanced back at his scanner and frowned when he saw that the pursuing craft had slowed down from their maximum turbo speed and were now hanging back. "Starbuck?" he radioed in disbelief. "Do you see it?" "Yeah," Starbuck was exhaling in relief, but also at a loss for words. "I don't know why, but whatever the reason, I'm sure as heck grateful." "I'll try to scan them." Apollo pressed the buttons of his slightly damaged console and felt himself exhale again in relief. When the readout emerged, his mouth fell open in stunned disbelief. "Apollo....." he could hear the same sense of disbelief in Starbuck's voice. "My warbook says those are vipers!" "No wonder they came up on us so fast." Apollo managed to speak. "Is that one of the scout patrols from Red Group that went out after we left? I'll tell you if it is, I'm going to kill the miserable snitrod, whoever it is!" Starbuck suddenly grew angry. "It can't be Red Group." Apollo shook his head. "Their patrol area is light yahrens from here." "Well then who in Hades is flying vipers if they're not from the Galactica?" Before Apollo could respond they both heard a voice go through their helmets on the unicom frequency. A stern sounding, determined feminine voice. "Attention. Attention, this is Silver Spar Group Leader, commanding viper pilots dead ahead to slow to surrender. You're locked on kill." Apollo's face was a sea of confusion. "Apollo?" he heard Starbuck. "There's no Silver Spar Group on the Galactica. What in Hades is----" "I don't know," he shook his head in bewilderment. "It has to be a trick." he activated his unicom and took on the firmest sounding voice he was capable of mustering. "This is Captain Apollo. Strike Commander of the Battlestar Galactica. Who are you?" There was a brief silence, punctuated a few microns later by the feminine voice saying in a perplexed tone, "Bojay?" "I heard him." Another voice spoke. This one a youthful male voice, that had a strange familiarity to Apollo that he couldn't understand why. "It's a trick. They're all dead." "Bojay?" Starbuck's voice suddenly cut in on the unicom frequency. "Did you say Bojay? Bojay is that you?" A long micron passed and then the male voice suddenly spoke in bewilderment. "Starbuck? Lords of Kobol, is that you, Starbuck?" "Yeah!" the lieutenant's voice rose as he felt a sense of exhilaration he hadn't experienced since before the Holocaust. "Yeah, it's me! And Apollo too! Bojay, it's us! Apollo, you remember Bojay, he was in our squadron aboard the Galactica!" "Yeah, I remember." Apollo was in a daze. "And then he transferred to the Fifth Fleet before the battle of....." he suddenly trailed off. "Molocay." Starbuck finished. "Two yahrens ago. But Bojay, if you're not dead-----" "Then we are." Apollo couldn't begin to comprehend what was happening. Memories of a tall, light-haired warrior with a slight case of an ego complex were coming back to him. Bojay had been part of Blue Squadron for the better part of several yahrens, serving with Apollo, Starbuck and Boomer in the period before Apollo had been promoted to Strike Commander. Although Apollo didn't think there was anything inherently dislikable about Bojay, he always found him to be less outgoing and more distant that Starbuck, Boomer and the other pilots aboard the Galactica. It had come as no surprise to him when Bojay had put in a transfer request to the Fifth Fleet, because Bojay seemingly had an aura of not feeling completely comfortable with the rest of Blue Squadron. And he knew the feeling was mutual. While he could remember the rest of Blue Squadron giving him a send-off party in the Galactica's Officers Club, there had been a slightly strained quality to the proceedings. Deep down, none of the pilots felt they were going to miss Bojay too much. And now, that enigmatic warrior had re-emerged from out of nowhere without any rational explanation. "Bojay." Starbuck went on anxiously. "Tell us what happened. How did you survive?" The feminine voice abruptly cut in. "You will maintain silence until we land aboard the Battlestar Pegasus." her tone was cold and full of natural authority. "The Pegasus." Apollo whispered, his sense of deep shock increasing. "That's just not possible." Starbuck's exhilaration now gave way to shock as well. "Apollo," he could scarcely talk. "Do you know whose ship that was?" "Cain." the captain's mind was a blur. "The greatest military commander that ever lived. He was my idol!" More memories now raced in front of him. Watching news broadcasts on the BNC as a child, profiling the exploits of the man who had first achieved fame as a brash young fighter pilot. Even meeting him several times as a child, because his father was friends with the man, and being awed by the massive numbers of decorations and campaign ribbons on the man's uniform. Reading the accounts of the man's battle campaigns in the military history texts at the Academy and marveling at the strategic genius that had never been equaled by anyone else throughout the long thousand yahren history of the war. The sharp-tongued feminine voice cut through his memories again. "Your idol will order you blasted out of the sky if you don't shut off your transmitters. In case you clowns haven't noticed, you're right in the middle of a quadrant controlled by Cylons." Her words barely registered with Apollo. He could now look ahead and see coming into his field of vision a sight that sent a chill through his entire body. The familiar contours of a battlestar. But unlike the Galactica, this vessel was at least two hundred yahrens older and carried the scars of many battles more visibly than did her younger sister ship. The hull was dotted with the tell-tale signs of hasty repair jobs done to seal external hull breeches. There was no mistaking which ship it was. "My God." Apollo whispered. "It isn't a dream. And we're not dead. It is the Pegasus." "You just won't shut up, will you, Captain?" the female voice grew more testy. "Quit acting like you've seen an apparition and shut your transmitter off, now!" "Hey Sheba, take it easy." Bojay spoke up. "I'm not so sure that I haven't heard an apparition myself. Hey Bucko', do you still con unsuspecting pilots out of cubits at Pyramid like you used to?" Starbuck grinned. That was Bojay all right. His slight distance from the rest of the Blue Squadron pilots had made him the easiest victim of anyone Starbuck had ever conned into a Pyramid game, and that was something Bojay could never let himself forget. "I'll give you a chance to find out later, Bojay." Starbuck took his viper into an approach heading. "Maybe you'll finally get a chance to get even after all these yahrens." "I warn you, I've learned a few tricks myself since." Bojay grinned in reply. "Sheba, I'll lead them into Alpha Bay and take them to see Cain personally. You land in Beta Bay and file your report with Tolen." "Affirmative." The testy edge faded from the voice of the woman who'd been addressed as Sheba. "Switching back to Pegasus Core Command frequency now and assuming Beta Bay heading." At that instant, Apollo noticed that the viper that had been lined up behind him was now accelerating ahead for landing in the port bay. That meant that Sheba had been the one who'd come within a micron of blasting him right out of the stars. Whoever she was, she was without question the sharpest pilot he had ever seen in his life. Never before had anyone been able to completely outclass him in a combat situation until now. "Bojay," Starbuck's voice suddenly grew serious. "You....well you guys all know about what happened---- "Yeah Starbuck, we know all about what happened to the Colonies." His voice grew serious too. "But we didn't know until now that there were any survivors. You've got to fill us in on what's happened." "You first." "Let's save it until we're aboard." As soon as the three vipers had landed in the starboard landing bay, Bojay was the first to pop open his viper canopy and instantly waved his arms to catch the attention of five other pilots who were working on their vipers with the maintenance crews. "Hey guys!" He shouted. "Over here! Look what I brought back!" By the time Apollo and Starbuck had opened their canopies and warily lowered themselves to the tarmac, the other five pilots were standing in front of them with expressions of joy and amazement. "Captain Apollo!" a tall, dark-haired, olive skinned warrior came up and grabbed his hand. "It's Paris! We were in class together at the Academy!" "Yeah, Paris. I remember you." Apollo was still in a daze as he shook his hand. "It's good to see you again." And then the memory came back to him, that he couldn't stand Paris and had always disliked him. But he wasn't about to bring that fact up at a time such as this. "Starbuck, Apollo," Bojay motioned to the other four. "The rest of Silver Spar's elite group. Lieutenant Banker. Lieutenant Skyler. Lieutenant Angus and Sergeant Doyle." Each of them exchanged handshakes with each other. For the next several centons, only the small talk of happy exclamations mixed with some stories and quips from Starbuck and Bojay about past gambling experiences, passed between the six Pegasus warriors and the two Galactica warriors. For both groups of men, the shock of unexpected happy reunion had yet to wear off where they could summon the strength to ask the tough questions that would provide the important answers. The eight men were still engaged in their idle happy talk, when the door at the other end of the landing bay slid open and a tall brown-haired man dressed in the blue uniform of bridge personnel entered. Immediately, the Pegasus pilots snapped to attention. "Captain Apollo, Lieutenant Starbuck, this is Colonel Tolen. Executive Officer." Bojay motioned. "Colonel," Apollo bowed slightly. "Captain." Tolen smiled pleasantly. "I've received a full report from Lieutenant Sheba about what happened. Commander Cain's been alerted to your arrival and will see you both right away." "We're anxious to meet him." Apollo acknowledged. Tolen glanced over at the six pilots. "You can accompany us as far as the main corridor. I can imagine you haven't exhausted all the questions you want to ask our guests yet." "No sir!" Lieutenant Skyler spoke up. "We're all so shocked we haven't even started with the obvious ones. You're both from the Galactica, right?" "Correct." Apollo nodded as the group of nine began to walk across the tarmac to the door that would lead out of the landing bay and shook his head. "I'm still at a loss for words." "How do you think we feel?" Lieutenant Angus said with dry humor. "Two yahrens ago, we left Caprica to save Molocay and her satellites from Cylon attack. We haven't seen another human soul since." "What happened in the battle?" Starbuck spoke up. "A living hell." Bojay's voice grew serious as they all stepped through the door and out into the main corridor. "We unfortunately arrived after the Cylon attack began and a full taskforce of about five basestars was already on the scene turning Molocay and her satellites into rubble. Colonial Intelligence was unfortunately too slow getting word to us about what was happening at Molocay or we might have gotten there sooner and been in position to ambush them with a bigger taskforce." "And the rest of the Fifth Fleet?" Apollo asked. "The Battlestar Celestia under Commander Sandlin and all the support ships?" "All destroyed." Bojay said quietly. "We were simply outmatched by superior numbers none of us had anticipated." "But how did you survive?" A proud smile came over Bojay's face again as they resumed walking down the corridor. "Because all of a sudden just when our morale was at an all time low and it seemed like we'd come to the end of it, Cain made the most brilliant decoy move I have ever seen. We managed to get clear of Molocay and confused the taskforce completely about which direction we'd gone in." "I see." Starbuck was still amazed. "But you had to have gone away from the Colonies to be this far out." Bojay grinned. "That was another of Cain's touches." he gestured with his hands. "He knew the Cylons would be lined up all the way from Molocay to the Colonies waiting for us. So he just turned us out to deep space and we kept on going. We've been fighting ever since." "Fighting?" Apollo raised an eyebrow. "You mean running." The group of Pegasus pilots all let out dry chuckles. "You're forgetting who our skipper is," Skyler spoke with the same edge of pride. "He doesn't know the meaning of the word run." "We're on strikes round the clock against the Cylons in this quadrant." Paris chimed in. "With what?" Starbuck's brow knotted too. "How do you replenish your ammunition? And you need fuel for the vipers and.....come to think of it, you need fuel for the Pegasus too because you don't have the self-generating engines like the Galactica does." "We get it from the Cylons." Colonel Tolen said matter-of-factly as the group came to the turbo lift at the end of the corridor. The executive officer then turned back to the pilots. "If you officers will excuse our guests, Commander Cain will now see them in his quarters." "Sure." Bojay grinned. "We'll meet you later in the Officers Club and buy you both all the drinks you want." Tolen motioned Starbuck and Apollo on to the turbo lift and joined them an instant later. They went up one deck level and stepped out into the main corridor and walked a short distance down in silence until they reached the large door that was marked COMMANDER'S QUARTERS. Tolen pressed the chime and a micron later, the door slid open. Without saying anything, the executive officer motioned his arm for the two to enter. When Apollo and Starbuck stepped in, they saw a room kept in dark, subdued lighting. From what Apollo could see the general layout was similar to his father's own quarters and office aboard the Galactica, but with the furniture kept more in the center of the room than at the side like his father arranged it. At the back of the darkened room in front of the starlit porthole, Apollo and Starbuck could see the shadowy figure of a man. The stars only illuminated his outline and kept his face hidden from view. He was wearing what looked like the elaborate combat dress of a battlestar commander, with the gold braids on the shoulders of the tan warrior's uniform. It was the kind of flamboyant uniform that Apollo knew his father had always disdained and had never once worn in the twenty yahrens that he had been commander of the Galactica. The man's right hand held another sign of military flamboyance, the swagger stick. Again, something that Apollo knew that his father never would have been caught dead holding at any time. Finally, the man spoke. The voice of firmness, authority and swagger. "Get them something to drink, Tolen. They look pale." The executive officer nodded and left the room. Apollo could literally feel himself quaking in his boots as he kept his eyes on the man, who remained obscured by the dark shadows. "It's a great honor, sir." The black-haired captain finally managed to speak. "Very great honor, sir." Starbuck, who was shaking as well, was unable to do anything but repeat Apollo's words. "I can imagine it is." The man finally stepped forward, emerging from the shadows. And now Apollo and Starbuck could see the face they both knew so well. The wavy light brown hair that remained free of any sign of thinning or grayness despite the fact that he was in his sixth decade. The firm, iron jaw that made everyone understand why people called him the Juggernaut. "That's just a little attempt at humor," Commander Cain spoke in a faintly disarming tone. He looked at Apollo and Starbuck and then slowly shook his head with the same sense of awed fascination that had been present in the eyes of all the warriors Apollo and Starbuck had just spoken to. "Well, I had quite resigned myself that I would never see another human soul. Other than my own people on the Pegasus of course." Apollo suppressed the desire to swallow nervously. "From the Galactica sir." he kept his voice firm and dignified. "Under the flag of Commander Adama." He then skipped a fraction of a beat. "My father." Commander Cain's eyes widened slightly and a faint smile of joy creased his mouth. "Adama?" "Yes sir." Apollo said weakly and nodded. Cain drew up to within three inches of Apollo and looked him in the eye. "Yes, yes." he nodded and smiled. "I see it. Well how is he? How is that old madacca? You know he and I went to the Academy and flew in the same group on the Cerberus for a couple yahrens. Our exploits used to drive poor old Odysseus mad." "Yes sir, I know." Apollo nodded again, recalling all the stories about the young Cain and the young Adama's missions that his mother told him about. "He's doing well. Considering the heavy load he's carried since the destruction of our nation." "Yes, yes I can imagine." Cain's face grew slightly grave and he took several steps back. "I'm......afraid that our knowledge of what happened to the Colonies is quite sketchy beyond the general fact that all the planets were destroyed and subsequently occupied. The rest of the Fleet?" Apollo took a breath. "Only the Galactica survived, sir." He said. "Along with some 220 odd ships carrying what's left of our people. Approximately 70,000 survivors all told." "My God," Cain slowly shook his head. "And I thought we had it bad. Only 220 ships from all of the Colonies? 70,000 out of a population of....fifteen billion?" "Yes sir." Apollo found it painful to have to explain the details of the Destruction again at time when after six sectars, he had finally begun to consign the terrible event to the realm of the past in his own mind. "All possible survivors were gathered on short notice." Cain shook his head again and absently waved his swagger stick as he turned away and paced back to the area behind his desk, in front of the porthole. "Captain," he turned around. "Could you explain again, just how this sneak attack took place? I've.....been able to piece together from some Cylon communiques I intercepted that they made their attack under the cover of a phony peace settlement. Is that true?" "I'm afraid so, sir. They used Count Baltar of Piscera as their prime instrument to carry out their deception." "Baltar." Cain stiffened as soon as he heard the name. "You mean, they were able to do it because of treason in our own ranks?" "Yes sir." Apollo felt his stomach turning. The Juggernaut absently looked down at the floor and began to mutter half to himself, "I always knew there was something about Baltar." he then looked up at Apollo again. "What about your mother, Ila?" Starbuck uneasily glanced at Apollo and wondered if his friend was going to collapse into an emotional wreck. He could see that it was a struggle for Apollo to have to share these painful accounts to others after six sectars of trying to put it all behind. "My mother was not among the survivors." Apollo managed to keep his composure. A faint trace of sadness passed over Cain's face. "My condolences, Captain." He said. "Your mother was a fine woman. I owe a lot to her. A great deal in fact." His tone grew slightly wistful and then it abruptly passed as he straightened his bearing. "Captain, before we go any further....there's a matter of personal concern I might as well inform you of. There is a certain young lady I knew on Caprica that I'm anxious to find, and if it's at all possible I'd appreciate it if you could at some point find some way of informing me whether or not she's one of the survivors." "I'm sure that can be arranged." Apollo felt relieved that Cain had changed the subject. "Our Fleet Personnel Computer has the names of all survivors who were logged in." "Thank you. Well, I suppose it's a bit of a forlorn hope of mine that she could be among the survivors but then again," he chuckled slightly, "She always did know how to take care of herself." Starbuck found himself intrigued by Cain's sudden interest in wanting to track down the whereabouts of a 'certain young lady.' From what he remembered, Cain had been known to have quite a reputation as a ladies man in the early yahrens of his great career. That was before he had married Bethany, who later became Caprica's greatest stage actress. "What was her name?" the brash lieutenant asked with burning curiosity. Cain reached down and switched on the hologram image machine on his desk. "Her name," he said wistfully as he kept his eyes on the machine and watched an image take shape. "was Cassiopeia." Starbuck abruptly felt ever muscle in his body lock in frozen disbelief. For a fraction of a micron he tried to convince himself that the name was just a coincidence. But as soon as the holographic image took the shape of a distinct face that hope evaporated. There was no mistaking it. And then, the holographic image spoke in the voice that both Apollo and Starbuck knew well, as if to underscore the reality further. "I'll never forget you, you old war daggit." Cassiopeia's image spoke in that same sly, romantic tone that Starbuck had grown so accustomed to hearing over the last six sectars. "Hurry back." All Starbuck could ask himself was wondering how it could be possible, since Cassiopeia had been on Gemon, not Caprica at the time of the Holocaust. And even more, why hadn't she ever said a word to him about it after all this time? Cain wryly glanced over at the two warriors and took note of their stupefied expressions. "I can see she has the same effect on you that she had on me." "That's.....definitely a face you can never forget." Starbuck finally managed to speak. And as soon as the words were out, Apollo had to summon all the self-control he'd ever known to keep from doubling over in laughter. Even now, at a moment that had to be the most rude shock imaginable to Starbuck, coming on top of the previous shock of finding the Pegasus alive and well after two yahrens, Starbuck had managed to find room for some characteristic humor. He literally had no idea how his friend was able to do that with such ease. The door chime sounded, and both Apollo and Starbuck felt relieved to see that Tolen had returned with a bottle of ambrosia. "Thank you Tolen." Cain said. "Anything new to report?" "Major Ham says that some new communiques from Gomorrah have been intercepted. He's planning on having the code team try to see if they can make some more sense of them." "Keep them working on that. We have to know everything that's happening there more than ever." As soon as the executive officer had gone, Cain calmly unwrapped the bottle of ambrosia and opened it. "There isn't much left after all this time, but this marks one of those occasions where ambrosia is called for, no matter how scarce the supply." He pulled out three glasses and poured into each of them. "Commander," Apollo said as he picked up his glass and gingerly sipped. "Colonel Tolen mentioned Gomorrah. Is that the system we're in now?" "Yes." Cain took a larger sip from his own glass. "The very outer edge of known space as far as Colonial star charts are concerned." "Do you have some kind of arrangement with the Delphians?" Starbuck asked as he drank. "There aren't any Delphians left for me to have an arrangement with, Lieutenant." Cain said gravely. "The Cylons exterminated all of them." Apollo and Starbuck both put down their glasses. "Yes." Cain smiled grimly. "It's all gone. A civilization of fifty million that represented the finest achievements in art, literature, and intellectualism is gone forever." "Commander," Apollo said tactfully. "I think at this point it might be advisable to set course for the Galactica so she might be made aware of the situation. Our Fleet is....facing a grave crisis at this time with regard to fuel shortages." "Yes, I can imagine." Cain finished his drink and put the empty glass down. "And I'm certain that at this point the Galactica thinks you're both quite overdue. Well, you just give me her coordinates and I'll have us there in under a centar. In the meantime, I invite you both to enjoy the hospitality of the Pegasus until our rendezvous." "Thank you, sir." Apollo said as he realized for the first time that at this point, his father might very well think he was dead. "And I appreciate again your willingness to check out Cassiopeia for me, once you return." "It's no problem at all, sir." Starbuck said, still only half-recovered inside from the revelation. "Speaking of lovely ladies," Cain reached down for the hologram again. "You have met my daughter." Apollo dimly shook his head. "No sir, I don't believe I have." Cain switched the machine on, and in an instant the face of a very attractive young woman in her early twenties, with brown hair that flowed past her shoulders and rich brown eyes, appeared. She wore what seemed to be a tan warrior's uniform and was smiling brightly. "Happy Birthday, Father." Her voice had an almost angelic aura that matched her face. "I love you." Starbuck noticed right away that she was indeed quite an attractive woman. And then, he glanced sideways at Apollo and almost frowned. He could see an expression on Apollo's face that he could only recall seeing on one other occasion in all the yahrens that he'd known Apollo. That was the time he and Apollo had sat down and watched the BNC on a video com five yahrens ago and he'd noticed how captivated Apollo was by the stunningly attractive news anchor named Serina. As soon as Cain switched off the hologram, Apollo spoke in what almost sounded like a tone of captivated awe to Starbuck. "Sorry sir, but if I'd met that young lady, I'd know it." Cain chuckled and moved back toward the porthole. "You've met her all right." an edge of pride entered his voice. "She was the pilot who almost flew you right out of your britches." Apollo's eyes suddenly widened. He couldn't believe for one micron that the stern, female voice of the one called Lieutenant Sheba who had outflown him so expertly and been on the verge of blasting him to infinity, belonged to the beautiful woman that he had just seen speak so tenderly to her father. It seemed like an inconceivable juxtaposition of personality traits. "Like father, like daughter." Cain was still beaming with pride. "She inherited all of my skills as a warrior. Thankfully, she also inherited her mother's great beauty." Apollo nodded and faintly muttered, "Yes." Which prompted Starbuck to glance quizzically at his friend again. Right away, Starbuck knew that the funny look on Apollo's face could only mean at the very least that Apollo intended to meet Lieutenant Sheba very soon for a personal talk. Beyond that, he wasn't about to read anything else into it at this point. "Captain, there's just now the matter of the Galactica's co-ordinates." Apollo didn't respond at first. He was still glancing at the inactive hologram machine. "Captain?" Cain gently repeated. "Oh yes," Apollo shook himself back to reality. "Coordinates are Beta Sector eight, mark six-six-four-two." "Thank you." Cain reached down and activated the intercom. "Bridge, this is Cain." "Yes sir." a deep voice replied. "Major Ham, set immediate course for rendezvous with the Battlestar Galactica at coordinates Beta Sector eight, mark six-six-four-two. Do not make radio contact until I'm on the bridge and can do so personally." "Yes sir. Setting course immediately." Cain switched off the intercom and was beaming in exhilaration. "Well my friends," he said as he placed his hands on his desk. "Our troubles are over." "What do you mean, sir?" Apollo asked. "Tomorrow, we go on the offensive." The Juggernaut grinned. "After all the setbacks we've had to endure, we're going to finally show those gallmonging Cylons how to fight!" his voice rose with passionate intensity. Apollo and Starbuck both felt numb. So much had been happening that it was impossible for their minds to keep up with things any longer. "Yes, by the Lords of Kobol!" Cain suddenly slammed his swagger stick down on the table as his grin widened. "The Cylon Empire is about to fall!" Chapter Two As soon as Adama stepped out into the bridge from the corridor, he could sense right away that he'd be faced with more bad news. After twenty yahrens of commanding the Galactica he'd developed an instinctive knack for knowing what the morale of his crew was like without speaking to them or seeing their faces. Morale was something a commander could sense like a presence in the air. And from there it was only a matter of knowing whether the presence in the air left him at ease or filled with sick tension. On this day, there was no question it was the latter. "Commander," Colonel Tigh came up to him. "Lieutenant Jolly's been taking inventory of every tanker's reserve supply. He's ready with his report on Beta Channel." Adama merely nodded and went over to the console to activate the video-com. An instant later, the face of the corpulent warrior who had recently been promoted from Flight Sergeant, filled the screen. "I understand you've finished your survey, Jolly." "Yes Commander," Jolly's tone was matter of fact, but had the faint edge of gloom. "It's reached a critical phase now. All tanker supplies of tylium and solium are down to less than 10 percent capacity in their reserve tanks. There isn't enough left to make an even distribution to all the ships in the Fleet for one more fueling period." Adama winced. "What about the general fuel status of all ships in the Fleet right now?" "At least 30 percent of the ships in the Fleet report that they've dropped to bare minimal levels necessary to maintain basic life support functions, Commander. They've started to reach the point where they can't use any of their tylium or solium left to power their engines any longer. I'd say that unless the Fleet comes to dead stop soon, we're going to start seeing the first ships fall behind within a few centars because they'll have no choice but to stop anyway." "Thank you for your report, Jolly." The commander felt as if a large weight had just been dropped on his shoulders. He absently turned off the video-com and slowly made his way back across the bridge to rejoin Tigh, who was perched over Bridge Officer Omega's console and frowning. "Well that's just fine," Adama muttered with an uncharacteristic testy edge. "We come all this way across the stars and just run out of fuel." "It looks as though that might not be the worst of it, Commander." Tigh looked up from Omega's station. "A centon ago we began picking up Cylon transmissions." "Good Lord," Adama exclaimed. "Their taskforce has found us already?" "That isn't it." The executive officer shook his head. "What we're picking up isn't military. It's civilian. The transmissions are all of a civilian nature." "Civilian?" the commander frowned and looked down at Omega's console, where he could see the readouts on the screen. "How can that be? We've gone halfway across the galaxy from their home planet. How could they set up an outpost this far out that isn't military?" "I can't explain it." Tigh shrugged. "But you can see for yourself. Those transmissions mean that somewhere out there ahead of us in the next star system is a planet with a thriving Cylon city." Omega finally decided to speak up, even though he hated having to do so. "That could be why our recon patrol is overdue, Commander." Adama glanced at the bridge officer. "Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck?" "Yes sir." Omega nodded. "Red patrol returned from their sweep ten centons ago. There hasn't been anything from Blue Squadron since just after they took off." "I see." the commander refused to show any emotion. "How long before they would have exhausted their fuel?" Omega took an uneasy breath. "They reached the point where they would have been powered down after using main thrusters about five centons ago." Adama's eyes glanced toward the floor for a brief instant. Apart from that, his expression remained unchanging. "We could launch a shuttle probe." Tigh ventured. "Less conspicuous then a viper search." "No," Adama shook his head. "We've now reached a point where every drop of fuel in a shuttle could be needed to keep another ship's life support systems functioning." An uneasy silence passed between the three men for a centon. "Notify every ship in the Fleet to come to a dead stop for now, Omega." "Yes sir," the bridge officer said methodically as he prepared to carry out the order. As Tigh and Adama moved away from Omega's station, the executive officer decided to be blunt. "Adama," he said. "Bringing us to dead stop isn't going to solve anything. Since we're in close enough proximity to a Cylon city, then sooner or later we risk detection from one of their scout vessels or patrol ships. And then it's only a matter of time before the baseships in turn will know of our whereabouts." "What would you have me do, Colonel?" Adama didn't look at him. "The only other option is to evacuate the ships that are going to run out of fuel first. But as soon as they're overcrowded into the other ships, then their supplies will run out just as quickly. The only thing we've been left with right now is a choice of stalling tactics." he then turned away and looked at the floor again. "And the most terrible option that confronts us short of destruction by the Cylons is that the Galactica and the few ships that have self-generating engines will have to continue the journey alone." he almost shuddered. "God help me if it comes to something like that." He stopped by Athena's station on the opposite end of the bridge. His daughter was staring at her console with a perplexed expression. "Anything interesting, Athena?" "We're picking up something in gamma sector quadrant. Something very odd." "What is it?" Adama leaned over her shoulder. "Some sort of visual echo. The Galactica's image has to be reflecting off some ion field ahead. And yet.....there's no indication of any ion field reading." Adama's eyes widened as he saw on the screen a perfect, detailed image of a battlestar. It took him ten microns to finally speak. "If that's a visual echo then it's the cleanest transmission I've ever seen. Something has to have gone wrong with the scanner that's analyzing this quadrant." "You're right," Tigh nodded and turned back to Omega. "Have this scanner turret shut down for immediate maintenance. Notify Shadrach to get a team working on it as soon as possible." "Yes sir," the bridge officer reached down to begin carrying out the order, when he suddenly froze, put his hand to the earpiece on his headset and began to tremble. "Commander," his voice had dropped to a whisper. "There's a signal coming through on Fleet Com-line Alpha." Adama's eyebrows narrowed and his expression darkened. "Is every piece of equipment on this ship falling apart now? Omega, you know perfectly well it's impossible for us to receive any transmission on a scrambler frequency for communication between warships." "I know sir, but----" Suddenly, the darkened video-com screen in front of Adama and Tigh came to life. A burst of snowy static and then a clear picture. "Greetings Adama, you old war daggit." a genial voice suddenly filled the entire bridge of the Galactica. "Might have known I'd find you and your fleet sitting dead on your astrums." Adama and Tigh went numb as soon as they heard the voice. The commander slowly turned to face the video-com and saw the smiling face of a man he'd thought dead for two yahrens. "Cain!" he whispered, totally thunderstruck. "Of all that's holy----" "Ah, there's nothing holy about me, Adama," Cain continued to show that disarming smile. "Except maybe what I'm doing to those gallmonging Cylons." "It's a miracle, Cain." Adama was shaking, unable to think of anything else to say. "A blessed miracle." "I make my own miracles. But have it your way. I'll take my shuttle and be over in a few centons." "I'll have some vintage ambrosia waiting in my quarters." Adama finally broke into a grin as he realized it wasn't a dream. "I should think so." Cain smirked. "Looking forward to it." The screen went blank. Abruptly, all the bridge personnel who'd seen Cain and heard his words on their monitors too bolted up and let out excited whoops and cheers. It was a sound Adama or Tigh hadn't heard at anytime since the Holocaust. "How can it be, Adama?" the skeptical instinct in Tigh made it hard for him to comprehend what had happened. "Cain perished along with the Fifth Fleet two yahrens ago. It....I mean I know that's him, but....." Adama managed to catch his breath and dimly shook his head. "I know it's impossible Tigh. But that's the fabric of miracles. Seeing the impossible unfold in front of you." He found himself grasping his hand just to convince himself again that he wasn't asleep. "Let's not waste any time meeting him." Ten centons later, more than fifty people had crowded into Alpha Landing Bay to watch the shuttle from the Pegasus arrive. Within thirty microns after it had come to a stop, the door opened and the Juggernaut emerged to a thunderous ovation from all those present. There was a sense of awe on Adama's face as he saw his old friend come up to him. The memories of many yahrens past, when he'd first met Cain at the Academy were racing through his mind. Of the missions they'd shared aboard the Battlestar Cerberus for two yahrens before Cain transferred to the Pegasus. Of the many times both he and Ila had socialized with Cain and his wife Bethany during furlons on Caprica. "The Lords of Kobol bless you," Adama whispered as soon as Cain had come to within an inch of him. And then, the two shared a fraternal embrace. "You have no idea how I feel at this moment," Adama said as soon as he let go. "Me too, Adama. Me too." Cain smiled and gestured toward the shuttle. "By the way, I have another present for you. I'd have told you when I first made contact, but.....well, you know how I can't resist a good theatrical touch." He turned around. "Where are those space loiterers we picked up?" He raised his voice to a commanding bark. "Front and center, now!" On cue, both Apollo and Starbuck emerged from the shuttle. Adama felt a wave of relief surge through him. The disappearance of his son's patrol had begun gnawing at him ever since he'd made his way to the landing bay, but now he felt another reason inside for knowing why he was secure in his religious faith. Once again, the Lords had watched over his son at a critical time and led him safely home. He came up to Apollo, embracing his son warmly, and then reached over to shake Starbuck's hand. "I thought I'd seen the last of both of you." "You would have too," Cain noted. "Until my daughter intercepted them both. They were headed straight for Gomorrah." Adama raised an eyebrow. "We're that close to the Delphian Empire?" "The former Delphian Empire, sir." Starbuck spoke up. "Commander Cain was just explaining to us that about two yahrens ago, the Cylons came in and destroyed them completely. Gomorrah is now their outer capital." The news came as a rude shock to Adama after the two moments of joy he'd just experienced. The Galactica commander had long been aware of the rich history and tradition of the Delphian race. They were a non-humanoid species totally disinterested in space colonization or military power that had instead channeled all their resources into becoming an empire of culture and reason. Their home planet Gomorrah had become renown throughout the galaxy, as a center for the greatest achievements known in art, literature, music and philosophy even though it was so distant from the Twelve Colonies. Adama could even remember the times when Ila, whose life had been devoted to culture in her work as a drama and music instructor at the Caprican Fine Arts Institute, had told him how the one place in the universe that she wished she could see above all others was Gomorrah. So she could see firsthand total perfection in the things she admired most. Adama had always thought that Gomorrah's immense distance from the Cylon Empire as well as the Colonies would leave the Delphians immune from the dangers of the war. But now, he had learned that even across this vast distance of space, even they had not been ultimately safe from the evil might of the Cylons. "That was a society of fifty million beings." He finally managed to speak. "Not anymore," Cain was brutally blunt. "It's now a model of machine efficiency. A proving ground for what they want every planet in the universe to be like." The euphoria had now worn off for Adama. "Cain, I think we should continue this discussion in my quarters." "Of course," the Juggernaut nodded. "I plan on having about a couple dozen of my own warriors come over on the next shuttle so they can enjoy some hospitality here. If that's all right with you." "By all means. The Officers Club is open to all of your warriors regardless of rank." Five centons later, the two battlestar commanders were in Adama's office. Cain was recounting again the details of the Battle of Molocay. "I think that was the first battle of my life where even I was scared, Adama." Cain said as he relaxed in a chair and slowly sipped at the ambrosia Adama had provided. "When we lost the Celestia, I think all of us were ready to just give in. When you lose a sister battlestar you've fought alongside with for fifteen yahrens, ....well it's not what anyone would call good for morale. The decoy plan to just escape the region was all we had left. And it wasn't made easy by the fact that I had to gather all the survivors from the Celestia, and the ten support ships and overcrowd the Pegasus to a dangerous level before we got started." "And once you got away from them, you headed for Gomorrah and hoped to get some supplies from the Delphians." "It was the only place I thought the Cylons wouldn't have penetrated to," Cain finished his drink and set the glass down. "When we discovered the Cylons had already moved in and wiped the Delphians out, that was another rude shock for us. But we did have one thing going for us. Even though they'd subjugated the planet, they were only in the early stages of getting their base set up. I found that by making hit and run raids, I could keep the base from assuming a fully operational status. And whenever the Cylons would send in new cargo ships and tankers to replenish what was lost, it was a simple matter of intercepting them and finding instant replenishment for my ammunition and fuel supply." "Did you ever have any inkling of what was happening back in the Colonies, Cain?" Adama found himself recalling how Cain's disappearance had been a crippling blow to Colonial morale and had placed Colonial civilization into such a precarious state that it made the decision to accept an offer of peace all the more easy. "No," the Juggernaut shook his head. "I didn't know a thing until I intercepted some communiques a few sectars back and finally got a partial breakthrough in their code. When I realized what those messages meant, that they'd destroyed the Colonies in a sneak attack and occupied them now, it was.....well it was ghastly for all of us." "I'm certain of that." "The irony is that I did realize something strange was going on just after we settled ourselves in the Gomorrah quadrant, because no task force ever came in to finish me off. My original plan was to get all we could out of our hit and run raids from Gomorrah until a superior task force arrived and then high-tail it out of the region fast. From Gomorrah, I'd planned on staging some other quick raids on other Cylon outposts and as soon as I'd racked up all the carnage I could realistically inflict from a one-ship operation, then we'd finally try to get home." "But when no taskforce arrived, you decided to stay in the Gomorrah area and continue living off them." "It seemed like the most practical decision. If all of their baseships were still lined up back toward the Colonies, as I assumed they were, there wasn't a chance I could get back safely." he then glanced at the floor, "I may have made a terrible error in judgment about that." "I certainly can't attest for where the baseships were for the first yahren or so, but I can definitely say that all of them were back in the vicinity of Cylon when the whole Peace Conference business started about a yahren after your disappearance." Cain let out a deep sad sigh of regret, "If only I'd known," he kept looking at the floor. "I should have been there." Adama wanted to say something reassuring to Cain about how it probably wouldn't have made any difference. But deep inside, Adama knew that would be a lie. For a long time, he'd always asked himself if things would have been different if Commander Cain had been present. And now, he had to face the fact that idea was now something that had passed from the realm of a forlorn fantasy to something that could have been possible. "Adama," Cain kept looking at the floor. "What made us fall into that trap?" The Galactica commander shook his head. "A thousand yahrens of weariness just seemed to catch up with us all at once. We'd.....over time lost our will to keep fighting a cause just because it was noble and just. And so there were too many people anxious to grab a peace offering as an opportunity to get out of it at long last. And Adar embodied all of those hopes for a human civilization at peace and able to enter a new Golden Age." "Damn jackal." Cain muttered with contempt. "Sending us into disaster like he did." "Save your anger for Baltar." Adama said pointedly. "He was the one who caused our ruin." "How anyone could trust Baltar is beyond me." Cain shook his head. "A man who got thrown out of the Academy in a cheating scandal. A crooked politician. By God, I would have raised a riot with Adar about letting him arrange everything." Again, Adama didn't know if he could discourage Cain's thinking on that point. He had always known in his mind that Cain would have been far more vocal about his skepticism in a peace overture than Adama had been during that time. And perhaps if the two of them together had been able to combine their voices, it would have made a difference. "And the rest of the Fleet." Cain finally looked back at his friend. "Six of the finest ships and the finest commanders I ever knew wiped out in an instant. That just......makes the whole thing even more unfair." "For what it's worth, Commander Fairfax put up a good fight." Adama decided he needed to keep the record completely accurate. "The Columbia actually survived the battle, but her damage was too extensive. We had to scuttle her." "Damn," Cain shook his head again and muttered. "Is Fairfax still alive?" "I'm afraid not. We lost him a sectan later at Carillon. He actually died ramming his own viper against a baseship and that helped destroy it." For the first time since the conversation began, Cain smiled. "Now that's the mark of a true warrior. I hope you gave him a posthumous Star of Kobol." "I did." "He was a good man. Probably the only other voice of sanity on the Council in addition to you." he paused for a brief micron. "So there's no one else left among the survivors who has battlestar command experience?" "Only one," Adama knew right away what reaction this next revelation was going to bring from Cain. "Commander Kronus." The Juggernaut didn't disappoint Adama. His expression was completely dubious. "That's the ultimate cosmic joke." Cain finally spoke. "The good commanders like Fairfax die and the only one left is Kronus. He probably thinks he's alive because he followed regulations to the letter." "Cain," Adama injected an edge of authority into his voice for the first time. "I know all about why you feel that way about Kronus, but let's dispense with revisiting that subject. I'll do what I can to see to it that neither of you ever end up in the same room." "I'd appreciate that a lot." Cain leaned back in his chair and his expression then softened. "By the way, your son told me about Ila. My deepest condolences." "Thank you," Adama smiled thinly. He knew how much Cain was indebted to Ila. Cain's late wife Bethany had been a childhood friend of Ila's, and she'd been the one who'd introduced Cain to Bethany. "Tragic as that was, it was just one of those things I had to move on from." He didn't know if Apollo had also mentioned the death of his younger son Zac to Cain, but decided that he didn't feel like volunteering that information at this point. "Yes, I suppose that's how we all have to treat the past. Even me." Cain sighed. "What happened at the Colonies is done with, and we have to look at things as they are now. So, I suppose we can now dispense with the past and concern ourselves with where do we go from here." "Of course." Adama rose from his chair. "What's really disturbing about the Cylons controlling Gomorrah is that it means they wield power over the entire known universe at this point. This is the very edge of charted space." "But at the very least, this outer capital of theirs is not fully functional." Cain rose from his chair and began to pace in front of the porthole, his voice regaining it's edge of enthusiasm and swagger. "And now that you've arrived Adama, we can pool our resources quite effectively." "Indeed," Adama smiled and clasped his hands on the gold braids that lines both of Cain's shoulders. "You've given a tremendous lift to all our people." "And a deathblow to the Cylons." Cain boasted. "We're going to take them on, Adama. At long last, this is the turning point." Adama was slightly taken aback but figured it was just the Juggernaut being his usual boisterous self. He decided he could let him down easy in a friendly tone. "No, my old friend. The most we can hope to gain from the Cylons is some fuel. A military victory is totally out of the question." "What are you talking about, Adama?" Cain suddenly grew dubious again. "I've had them on their knees in this quadrant. With just one battlestar. With two. Ha!" He suddenly gestured with a wave of his hand. "I'll finish them! At least on Gomorrah." The friendliness disappeared from Adama's voice as he realized that this was going to be more difficult than he anticipated. "And then what?" "Then we'll have an unlimited supply of solium and tylium," Cain smiled. "And a base from which to strike back against the entire Empire itself!" "Cain," Adama was now alarmed to hear Cain thinking in these terms. "We can't secure that planet. Those baseships that haven't been bothering you since before and after the Holocaust have been after me en masse since we fled the Colonies. With Baltar himself personally commanding the task force. Even if by some miracle we could eliminate all of the Cylons on Gomorrah, not even the two of us together could hold it against an assault of at least three and probably more baseships." Cain had the look of a man who'd just taken an unexpected blow to the stomach. "Adama," he finally spoke. "What in Hades would you have us do then?" "All I'm interested in is getting enough fuel to escape this quadrant and keep this Fleet functioning." There was another uneasy silence before Cain spoke again. "What you're talking about is running." "Not running, Cain," Adama gently admonished. "Escaping. Escaping this pursuit so we can lead the Fleet to our ultimate destination." "And what ultimate destination is that?" "The planet Earth." The Galactica commander said firmly. "Where the Thirteenth Tribe of humanity journeyed to, seven thousand yahrens ago." Cain let out a mild guffaw, "Lords of Kobol, Adama is that what you've pinned the hopes of human civilization on? An ancient myth in the Book of the Word?" "It isn't a myth, Cain." Adama said. "I saw evidence of the Thirteenth Tribe on Kobol itself. We journeyed back to the mother planet and the evidence in the Tomb of the Ninth Lord confirmed its existence." "Do you know the coordinates?" "No," Adama admitted. "The Cylons unfortunately destroyed the Tomb in a sneak attack before I could find that information." "Then you could have this Fleet wandering uncharted space to the other end of the galaxy for eons!" Cain protested. "Adama, that's not survival, that's condemning generations of people to a life of endless wandering in captivity!" "It offers a better hope then taking on the Cylons in military engagements that we can't win." Adama gently retorted. "If we find Earth though, we can end up finding a civilization that had to have developed at the same rate that the Colonies did. The kind of civilization that could help us effectively defend ourselves, and perhaps some day go on the offensive. But until we find Earth, all we can do is escape the Cylons." "You're really serious," Cain still couldn't believe it. "What makes you think we couldn't take them on now? We can outfly them, we can outfight them----" Adama abruptly cut him off. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm protecting 220 civilian ships in this Fleet. Ships that were never intended for deep space flight, and which crawl along at a pace that is perfect for target practice." The frustration was clearly mounting inside Cain as he moved away from Adama, "There must be some way." "I wish there was," Adama said sincerely. "Because if you think I don't wish I could extract some revenge on the Cylons after what they did to the Colonies, you'd be mistaken." "I wouldn't doubt that for a micron." Cain conceded. "Then understand my position that for now, we need to concentrate on intercepting some Cylon tankers. And your knowledge of the Cylon supply line will be most invaluable in letting us do that." "Why bother with tankers?" Cain turned around and looked him in the eye. "Go straight for the fuel base on Gomorrah." At least he's come down from taking the planet to just raiding the depot, Adama thought. "That won't work either, Cain. For now, I'm dead in space because I can't leave any of those ships unprotected while we go off to secure the fuel base." "Hades hole, Adama!" Cain flailed his arms and began pacing again. "In that case, just give me a couple of your best squadrons while you provide defensive cover for the Fleet with your turrets, and then I can take the base myself! Then you'll have enough solium and tylium for those ships to last all the way to Earth even if it is at the other end of the galaxy!" "Right now Cain, I'll be satisfied with just enough fuel to get out of this quadrant and throw the pursuit force off guard." "Adama," Cain said pointedly. "You might not get another chance to get fuel from a source as rich as Gomorrah is. It's the biggest depot in this part of galaxy, and they keep adding to it every sectan with more shipments from outside! If you're interested in making this journey of yours a success, you've got to grab this opportunity! If not for the sake of Colonial pride, then for your people's sake then." Adama felt a heavy burden on his heart as he realized that the time had now come for him to effectively pull rank on his old friend. The seniority system of the Colonial Command structure meant that while Adama and Cain were of equal rank, Adama was senior by virtue of receiving his commission one semester ahead of Cain. And it wasn't a task he relished because Adama knew that the only reason why Fate had made him senior to Cain was because the Juggernaut had once been suspended from the Academy for two semesters, in effect delaying his commission and putting him junior to a number of men he should have rightfully been senior to. Including Adama. And what had to stick in Cain's craw even more was the fact that the man who was responsible for his suspension was none other than Commander Kronus. "Cain," he assumed a gentle friendly tone, since he had no intention of embarrassing his friend by browbeating him. "I've made my decision. Now you draw up the plans for capturing those tankers, and I know that whatever tactics you devise, I'll approve them. I know you're the best when it comes to that." The Juggernaut seemed deflated. "Well, if that's the way you want it, I suppose I have no choice." "My facilities aboard the Galactica are completely at your disposal. In fact, you can use the VIP quarters right next to mine to draw up your plans." "Thank you, I think I'll get started on that now." He then glanced down at the half empty bottle of ambrosia he and Adama had started. "Mind if I take this with me?" he picked it up. "Consider it a gift with my compliments," Adama smiled. "And the compliments of all the people in the Fleet." Cain finally smiled again. "I'll do what I can to repay their kindness." As soon as Cain was gone, Adama sat down in his chair and tried to contemplate what the future was going to be like with Cain's constant presence. Already, it was clear that putting himself back into a subordinate role after so many yahrens of having free rein as Commander of the Colonial Fifth Fleet wasn't going to be easy for the Juggernaut. Hopefully, that wasn't going to mean trouble for the long haul. Chapter Three As soon as Apollo and Starbuck had left the landing bay following their dramatic return, the black-haired captain decided it was finally time to broach the subject that had been on both of their minds since the end of their first conversation with Cain. "So what are you going to do?" he decided to try to keep his tone light. "Find a way to keep Cassiopeia in total isolation so she never finds out?" "Very funny," Starbuck managed an awkward grin but it was clear the whole matter had been gnawing at him all this time. "I'll find a way to let him down easy. I mean......you don't just dump on a hero." Apollo shook his head in bemusement as they stepped on to the turbo lift that would take them up to the deck where the non-pilots quarters were. "Yeah, you're assuming that Cassiopeia is going to right away just dismiss Cain as some distant memory from the past and not even bother to go see him once she finds out he's back." The turbo lift stopped and Apollo stepped out first. Starbuck hesitated slightly before he got out and followed him down the corridor. "Apollo----" he started. But at that instant, he found himself feeling more on the defensive for the first time. "Oh sorry, I forgot." Apollo held out his arms and grinned as he remained several steps ahead of Starbuck. "Once they experience the aura of Starbuck-----" "I never said that." Starbuck said as he came up alongside him and pointed his finger. "I mean, that's true of course, but I never said it." "Sure." Apollo kept grinning. "Look let's face it, Apollo," they came to the door outside Cassiopeia's quarters. "He is an older man." "What's this?" Apollo decided to stick the needle even further, knowing that Starbuck didn't resent it. "Practicing your excuses on me? Look, the big centon has arrived. If you like, I'll be glad to let you handle this yourself." "I think I'd appreciate that." "Okay," he said. "Just let me take Boxey off her hands and then I'll leave you two be." Starbuck opened the door and the two entered. Cassiopeia and Boxey were both on the floor with a game board between them. A non-computer game called Tactician that offered a basic version of two sides engaged in a simple game of ground combat, with each side trying to get to the other end of the board and capture the flag of the opponent. Behind Boxey, perched on the couch was his beloved daggit Muffit. "Hi!" Apollo said as he entered. "How goes the game?" "Thank the Lords, you're back." Cassiopeia looked up at the two warriors and smiled. "Do you know how many sweet chips and mushies I have to pay this little monster after all the games he's beaten me at?" Boxey looked up at his father and let out a mischievous grin that Apollo always found endearing. "That's the way to become a warrior, Boxey." Apollo smiled back. "Show no mercy in battle." "I'm about to win my sixth game now." The little boy said with pride. "Consider it won." Apollo said. "It's time you get back to brushing up on your studies for tomorrow." "Aw, can't I just finish this one?" "I surrender, Boxey, I surrender." Cassiopeia jokingly held up her arms and moved one of his game pieces to her end of the board, knocking over the one that represented her flag. "I'll gladly pay you one extra container of your favorite fruit juice." "Orange-berry!" Boxey exclaimed. "Done!" she got to her feet. "Look, we've had a great time together. If Athena's ever tied up with bridge duty again and you need me to look after him while you're away, don't hesitate to ask." "I won't." Apollo nodded and motioned to Starbuck. "I'll let you two get caught up on things for now." "Thanks." Starbuck nodded, trying not to let his queasiness show. Apollo took Boxey by the hand and left the room, with Muffit trailing the two. As soon as the door closed, Starbuck calmly exhaled and began pacing about the room. "Starbuck?" Cassiopeia frowned. "Is something wrong?" "Oh no. No." He absently waved. "You sure look tense." The med-tech came up and gently put her arms around him. "Does this make you feel better?" she kissed him lightly on the lips. "Um...." "Something is bothering you," she let go of him and seemed amazed. Again, Starbuck exhaled and began to pace again. "I've ah.....got some news for you. About an old friend of yours. Someone you may have been involved with or just ah...... liked. I don't know which. Anyway," he turned around and saw that she was frowning at him in total befuddlement. "He's been found. Alive." Cassiopeia came up to him, still perplexed. "Who?" "Look, I know it's over between the two of you," Starbuck began to speak at a more rapid pace, as though he thought that by talking fast, he could get it over with more quickly. "But after all, he is such a legend and we'll have to let him down easy. Now if you want to do it, fine, but I'll be glad to handle it for you if it's too awkward----" "Starbuck," Cassiopeia interrupted. "Will you quit talking like an Aquarian philosopher and start speaking common Colonial standard? Who are we talking about?" Starbuck almost felt sick but finally forced himself to say it. "Commander Cain." Her eyes widened in deep shock. And then, without saying a word, she abruptly turned and walked out, leaving Starbuck alone and wishing he could bang his head against the compartment walls. He finally collected his wits and left the room, walking down the short distance to Apollo's quarters, and not even bothering to sound the chime. "That was fast," Apollo said as he got up from the small bench where he'd been watching Boxey take out his assignment books for primary classes. "So how'd she take it?" "She ah....well, she wanted to be alone, so I ah......" he absently waved his hand. "Starbuck," Apollo's tone grew serious. "Are you in a little pain or something? You look like the cadet who just found out he's been given deep patrol duty for two straight sectans." "Do I?" Starbuck looked surprised. "What makes you think that?" "Hey, come on Starbuck, it's me. Apollo. Your conscience, as you like to call me whenever you're in trouble. We're supposed to talk about these kinds of things." "Yeah, but ah...." he avoided looking him in the eye, "Well, I guess I never did like to admit that I'd form attachments." "You never even like to admit it to yourself." Apollo's tone grew deathly serious. "That's something I've never understood about you in all the yahrens we've known each other." "Look," Starbuck took a breath, finding it a struggle to open up this much. He couldn't remember feeling this awkward since that disastrous conversation with Athena in the locker room just after the Holocaust. "You came from a large family. I didn't have that, growing up in a Caprica City orphanage. That's why I just......grew up keeping the number of people around me as large as I could." "I see," Apollo nodded. "So you couldn't be hurt by any particular one? Going out with several women at the same time in your life, like you did when it was Aurora and Athena?" "Look." Starbuck gritted his teeth. "I don't care if Cassiopeia feels something for Cain. I just ah...." he started to walk away from Apollo. "Well, I just don't understand the combination. I mean ah....well he's......" "Too old?" Apollo finished for him. "Starbuck, I think you'd better read the Book of the Word carefully again. Some of the elders of Kobol were married to some very young wives." Starbuck's eyes widened. "Wives? Come on Apollo, aren't we getting a little ahead of ourselves? I mean," he frowned, "She wouldn't marry him." He started to walk away, then turned back and was smiling awkwardly. "Anyway, who cares? What's it matter to me? She's in charge of her own life. Why should I care? I can always......" he started to walk away, "Well, there's always going to be something for me, right? So why should I care?" And then, the door closed, cutting off his rambling monologue. Apollo found himself almost laughing in spite of himself. "Poor Starbuck," he heard Boxey's voice from behind. "Oh well, he's still got Athena. And Mackin, and...." "Hey will you stop?" His father turned around and looked at his son incredulously. "And who said you could listen in? You're supposed to be reading your study books." Boxey flashed another mischievous grin at him which instantly caused any displeasure Apollo might have felt to evaporate. "Yeah, you're right." He knelt down and put his hands on his son's shoulders. "It does seem kind of funny. But Boxey, trust me. When you get older, you'll realize that this sort of thing really isn't so funny after all. It can end up making you feel pretty lousy when it doesn't go right." Boxey looked at him thoughtfully and then nodded. "Sorry." "It's okay," he hugged him. "Now I've got to go take care of something else right now. And when I get back in about a centar, I want you to be all washed up and ready for bed. Can you handle that yourself?" "Sure." He nodded. "Where are you going?" "I'm going to be talking to some of our new friends from the Pegasus," Apollo said. Left unspoken was the fact that there was only one person from among that group that he wanted to talk to. Cain had just emptied the last of the ambrosia he'd taken from Adama into a glass and was about to sit down to go over the preliminary sketch of his battle plan that he had been working on. The abrupt sound of the chime stopped him. "Enter." he looked over to the door. When it slid open, he was stunned to see standing there with a beaming smile, the woman whose hologram had sustained him for two yahrens now. The beautiful Gemonese socialator who had literally saved him from the black abyss of depression during the worst time of his life. "Cassie," he whispered. And then, he made his way over to her. For a long micron they looked into each other's eyes, as though neither of them knew what they should do next. Finally Cain put his hands on her bare shoulders and pulled him tightly to her. "I asked if they could check to see if you were among the survivors." he said, still in a state of disbelief that his prayer had been answered. "I never thought I'd know this quickly. Thank the Lords." Finally, he gave into his deeper instincts and kissed her twice. "I've missed you, so." Cassiopeia said when they had finished. And then, a brief flash of guilt went through her head as she remembered leaving Starbuck so abruptly. It caused her to loosen herself slightly from Cain. "But....I had to stop thinking about you too much." The Juggernaut nodded faintly in understanding. "I wouldn't have expected you to do otherwise. Especially with all those young warriors around here." "It hasn't been like that at all, Cain." she said. "I'm not a socialator anymore. I got out of that after the Holocaust because it really didn't seem like a......productive designation any longer." "What do you do?" Cassiopeia smiled weakly. "I went back to my first love. Medicine. I'm now senior med-tech." "Congratulations." Cain was impressed. "I always knew you had the aptitude for that kind of thing. I'm glad you think you're really doing something that productive." he paused. "But even if you're not a socialator any longer, I can't believe you don't have every pilot in the Fleet fighting over you." "There's only one man in my life right now. And he doesn't love easily." "Then you shouldn't be wasting time on him." Cassiopeia shook her head. "He's not a waste of time. He's just afraid of caring too much. He.....had a rough childhood, growing up in an orphanage." "No worse than yours, " Cain said, as he recalled the stories Cassiopeia had shared with him about growing up with her widowed father, an Aerian merchant, who made his trade in some of the seediest, crime-filled areas of Colonial society. "We all handle loneliness in our own ways," Cassiopeia said as she felt Cain gently nuzzle her hair. "My way was becoming a socialator and reaching out to others. Starbuck's was to shut everyone out." Cain let go of her and looked surprised. "You're talking about Starbuck? He's the one you're serious with?" "Yes. You met him already?" "I did." the Juggernaut then shook his head as he recalled showing Starbuck and Apollo the hologram of Cassiopeia, and how the blonde lieutenant had managed to conceal the fact that the woman Cain was searching for was someone he knew very well. "I asked him and Apollo to find out if you were alive, and he never said a word." "Would you have expected him to tell you, given the circumstances?" she pointed out. "I never told him about us, Cain. I didn't think it would be fair to him if I did." "I won't blame you for that." "He is a good warrior." "Is he?" a sardonic edge crept into Cain's voice. Cassiopeia sighed and kissed him quickly on the lips. "I wasn't comparing the two of you. I never have these last six sectars since I first met him. But Cain.....you're going to have to give me time to think about all this. I just can't.....have us pick up from where we left off." Cain skipped a beat. "We may not have that much time, Cassie." "I know," she glanced at the floor. "But Cain....I can't have it any other way." "I won't press you.....yet." She walked over to the porthole, not wanting to look at him when she asked her next question. "What about Sheba?" The edge of pride entered the Juggernaut's voice. "She's become one of the best warriors on the Pegasus. No, I might as well not qualify that. She's the best, as far as I'm concerned." "She's going to be very unhappy to find out that I've come back from the dead." Cassiopeia folded her arms. Cain sighed and came up to her, "Children don't understand the needs that a man can have at different times in his life. I mean, you came into mine right after Bethany died. I know it was....well, I know it was difficult for Sheba to understand, but......." Cassiopeia turned around and saw how awkward Cain's sentences had become now that he'd mentioned his wife's name. It had always been difficult for Cain to say Bethany's name in her presence, because deep down Cassiopeia knew that Cain still felt guilty and always would about not having been there when Bethany had died of a horrible illness that had left her in a state of delirium at the end. That had happened just two sectars before Cassiopeia had met a weeping, distraught Cain one night in a Caprica City bar, and taking comfort on him, had offered her services as a socialator to him. Only to see the relationship go beyond what a socialator was ordinarily supposed to provide and become a passionate love affair. ".....But for me, Cassie, well......you saved me. I.....would have taken a laser pistol and pulled the trigger at my forehead if you hadn't been there to......give me comfort and strength and.....love." The blonde med-tech and former socialator sighed. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe Sheba wanted to fill that role?" "How?" he raised an eyebrow. "She's my daughter." "That wasn't what I meant." she kept her tone patient. "I was talking about filling the role of giving comfort and strength. The things that a socialator does that are more important than.....well the physical part of it ultimately." Cain nodded. "I'm sorry, I see what you mean. But Cassie, I......I couldn't ask her to fill that role. I mean," he turned away from her, "Every time I looked at her, all I could see is Bethany's face. She's.....the very image of her. It just.....reminded me too much of what I'd lost, and what I'd wasted, all those yahrens of not being there for Bethany when she needed me." "I think Sheba got the impression that her mother's memory didn't mean anything to you anymore once I entered your life." The Juggernaut sighed. "That isn't true. And it never will be. I even made that clear to you from the beginning that was the reason why I'd never ask you to become sealed to me no matter how long we were together. And that's one thing I'm always going to feel strongly about. Bethany is the only woman I ever want to have been married to and she is always going to be the first love of my life until I die. But.....for some people a memory, no matter how meaningful and precious it is, just can't be enough. That's why I needed you Cassie." He put his hands on her cheeks and kissed her again. "And why after two lonely yahrens since Molocay I need you still." "You said you wouldn't press me yet." "So I did." Cain stepped back and took her hand. "But I didn't say I wouldn't spend that time making my case." She smiled in amazed wonder. "You're still the same." "Come with me," he wrapped his arm around her waist. "I want you to meet some of my warriors in the Officers Club that have come over from the Pegasus." As they left the room, Cassiopeia wondered if Cain had decided Sheba was going to find out about her resurrection in a public forum. If that was the case, then she had a feeling that things weren't going to look any better in the near future. When Apollo arrived in the Officers Club, he saw that more than twelve warriors from the Pegasus had arrived and at that moment, were happily exchanging stories with the Galactica warriors who had gathered. "So are you guys always in a state of round the clock action against the Cylons on Gomorrah?" he recognized the voice of Sergeant Barton of Red Squadron. "No, that would be overplaying our hand too much." Bojay said as he sipped from a tankard. "The way we do it, is we lay low for about a sectan or so, giving them just enough time to rebuild what they lost in the previous attack. And then, when it comes time for them to have the base rededicated, that's when we go in and turn it all into scrap metal again." Apollo's eyes locked on to the person who had just spoken. He recognized her instantly from the hologram and for an instant marveled at how even more beautiful she was in person. And how incredible it was for him to connect her with the sharp-tongued pilot who had nearly blown him to infinity. "What about you guys?" Bojay turned to Barton and Jolly, the two Galactica warriors nearest to him. "You've probably been raising all kinds of felgercarb with those tinheads yourself." "I wish," Jolly sighed. "There haven't been too many opportunities for that lately." Apollo decided that now was the time. "Mind if I join you?" He moved forward. "Sure," Bojay grinned. "Go right ahead." "It hasn't been too bad a track record," Apollo said as he sat down. "We did shoot down two Cylon patrol ships last sectan. And on what few occasions we have been thrust into combat situations over the last six sectars, we've more than held our own." Finally, his eyes locked on to Sheba's. "Apollo. Strike Captain Apollo." he said with a friendly air. "You must be Sheba. I understand you spent some time recently flying on my tail." Sheba smiled brightly at him, and Apollo was startled to find that it made his heart skip a beat. "Yes. To both questions." "My congratulations on your showing me that I need to brush up on my flying skills to keep from ever being ambushed like that again." "Hey, you and Starbuck both owe your lives to her," Bojay motioned to Sheba with his tankard. "Me, I was ready to open fire, but she managed to scan both your ships first and realized we'd been chasing a couple of lost humans all this time." "Still the impulsive one as always, right Bojay?" Jolly needled. But when the Pegasus warrior turned around and glared slightly at the Galactica warrior, it was clear that he didn't care for the remark. And in the process, gave both Apollo and Jolly a reminder of why Bojay hadn't fit in with the rest of them during his time aboard the Galactica. "So tell me." Sheba kept her eyes on Apollo. "How is it that you haven't taken advantage of more opportunities to raise trouble with the Cylons? Two patrol ships in a sectan doesn't amount to too much." "It all depends on circumstances." Apollo said, not taking his own eyes off hers. "When you're responsible for the lives of 70,000 people traveling on slow moving barges, the first priority always has to be keeping a low profile." Her smile faded slightly. "Sounds like we're going to be incompatible. For us, keeping a low profile means laying low during the interlude between attack periods." "All of us have to learn how to adjust," a pointed edge entered Apollo's voice. "Even Commander Cain may have to learn to alter his combat techniques." "Really." the smile hadn't completely faded from Sheba's face but it was clear that the warmth was all gone from it. "And who's going to tell him that?" "Well, being a student of your father's career, I think he'll come to that conclusion on his own." Apollo said, choosing his words carefully. "He's by far the most astute strategic analyst the Colonies ever produced, and I think when it comes to factoring in the situation as it exists now, the conclusion will be obvious to him." Her brown eyes narrowed, as though she were studying Apollo critically, trying to fully assess whether his remarks had been made in the spirit of admiration or criticism. Before she could say anything else, the door to the Club slid open and all the warriors standing at the entrance bolted to their feet. "At ease, at ease." Cain said nonchalantly as he waved his swagger stick. "No time for any formalities today. This is a time for all of us to get to acquainted. Glad to see so many of you are here." From his position in the center of the Club, Apollo could see Cassiopeia standing alongside Cain. And right away, he saw a dark cloud pass over Sheba's face as the woman she had consigned to the realm of a bad memory in her mind, had now re-entered her life. As Cain continued to mingle with the warriors at the front of the Club, Cassiopeia also fixed her gaze on Sheba, keeping her expression stoic and neutral. She knew any hint of a smile would have been taken the wrong way by Sheba and only make what she knew was already a bad situation even worse. Already, her mind was recalling the numerous occasions when Sheba had confronted her with words of anger and venom, demanding that she stay away from her father. And how she had always been determined not to match her venomous words, except for one occasion when the words and epithets from Sheba became so ugly, that she finally cracked from the strain and unleashed a tirade of her own in return that almost resulted in the two of them coming to physical blows. To this day, Cassiopeia considered it miraculous that hadn't happened. There was a part of her that understood why Sheba resented her presence. What she couldn't understand was why Sheba had to let her resentment turn to bitterness and hatred. For a half centon, Cassiopeia's neutral expression met the dark, bitter one of Sheba's. And then, as Cain began making his way forward to talk to some of the other warriors from the Galactica, she finally turned away and followed the Juggernaut. "In the spirit of insuring further harmony amongst our two ships," Cain went on. "It's my pleasure to announce that the next round of drinks is on me! And then, we'll all share a toast to our future victory over the Cylons!" Cheers went up from all the warriors in the room, Galactica and Pegasus alike. All except Sheba, who was now staring at the floor, her facial muscles visibly throbbing as though she was trying to keep herself from exploding in fury. And also Apollo, whose attention was on her completely. "Come my sweet Cassiopeia," Cain was beaming as he motioned toward the bar. "Let's share our first drink to celebrate the happy reunion." As soon as the Juggernaut had spoken his endearment to Cassiopeia, Sheba finally let out a long slow exhale and then without looking up said, "If you'll excuse me, I think I've had enough combat for now. Bojay, I'll meet you back on the Pegasus later." "Yeah." Bojay was taken aback by her change in attitude, since he had no idea what it was that was troubling her. As Sheba left the Officers Club, Apollo found himself impulsively rising from his seat and following her out. Even without any prior knowledge, he now understood completely what Cain's past relationship with Cassiopeia had to have meant for the Juggernaut's daughter. And given Cassiopeia's former occupation, he also knew what Sheba's impression of Cassiopeia as a person had to be. As far as he was concerned, someone who knew differently about Cassiopeia needed to talk to her right away. Sheba was probably the best natural pilot he'd ever met, and if she was going to brood about this situation, he already knew it could mean trouble one day in a combat situation. Cassiopeia shook her head with a slight air of disgust as Sheba walked past them without looking in their direction. "Nothing changes." "Everything changes." Cain said as he poured her drink, oblivious to his daughter's hasty departure. She looked him in the eye and shook her head. "Not people." "Sheba?" Apollo called out with concern as soon as he was in the corridor. The Pegasus warrior came to a stop and turned around. The bitter expression on her face was still there. "Can we talk?" He asked gently. "No," she exhaled in the manner of one who had just mentally counted to ten to avoid exploding with fury. "No, I really don't feel up to it. I'm.....sorry." She then turned her head away from him. "Sheba," Apollo felt his inner sense of concern for her deepening. "We all have to learn how to work together if we're going to survive." "Working with you won't be the problem." Sheba abruptly turned back to him and said coldly. "That has to go for everyone, Sheba." Apollo said. "Including the people you may not like. Believe me, there are people aboard the Galactica I can't stand personally, but I'm still willing to lay down my life for them just the same." "Good for you," she sounded unimpressed as she began to walk away. "But I'm sure you can't know everyone as well as you should in order to feel that way." "I do know the lady you're upset about." Sheba stopped and turned back to him again. "Do you." She said it more like a statement than a question. "I know who she is now." Apollo said. "What she may have been before doesn't matter any longer. Every one of us has been through a cleansing fire thanks to the Holocaust." "She's the kind of person who can never be cleansed, Captain." the coldness increased in Sheba's voice. Apollo felt a sense of exasperation creep in. "Sheba, just for your information, Cassiopeia is one of the strongest people I know of. She's now our best med-tech, and it's people like her that help piece the wounded who aren't lucky enough to get out of the way whenever we have to go through the agony of another Cylon attack. And I've seen firsthand how people like her have to work around the clock sometimes in order to do that. Those are the kinds of people who've helped make what's left of our civilization survive after the worst kind of horrors imaginable." "She's a med-tech now?" the coldness in Sheba's voice was briefly replaced with mild surprise. "Yes." Apollo said. "She's like everyone that's learned how to contribute in the face of hardship." "Okay Captain," the coldness came back halfway. "Consider me briefed as to Cassiopeia's newfound nobility in life as a med-tech." "What about convinced?" She shook her head and smiled coldly, "I don't convince easy. Human weakness is a given. It may lower its profile in the form of taking a more nobler profession than socialator, but it's still there. Especially in someone like her." "What about you? Do you have any weaknesses?" Apollo found himself amazed at how there seemed to be so many different facets to Sheba. A magnificent flyer. Totally professional in carrying out her duties, because only a professional would have had the sense to scan his viper and Starbuck's and cease firing on them once it indicated human lifeforms. A woman who obviously could be warm and tender as the hologram message to her father indicated. Yet at the same time, she could also be cold, bitter and unapproachable. A woman of many contradictions. Something he could never recall seeing in any other person he'd ever met. She looked him in the eye in silence for a half centon and then the cold smile returned to her face. "None that will ever come between us, Captain." Sheba began walking away from him, then stopped and turned around. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?" "No." he shook his head. "You lost your mother in the Holocaust, didn't you?" "Yeah." he already had an inkling of what was on her mind. "How would you feel if your father suddenly decided to start having a relationship with a woman young enough to be your sister less than two sectars after her death, and then removed every holopic, and every trace that she'd ever been alive from your presence?" Sheba made certain she'd phrased her question in the bluntest terms possible. It was a question Apollo knew he should have anticipated, but even so, it made him flinch that it had been put to him. His reaction did not go unnoticed. "I think you've already answered my question." she smiled in grim satisfaction. "And that says something about your own weaknesses, doesn't it?" Without saying anything else, she resumed her walk down the corridor, finally turning the corridor and disappearing from view. Apollo shook his head in amazement. Sheba had just hit the nail on the head as to why even now, as he found himself repelled by her coldness and her bitterness, he could also feel deep empathy with her. And still be in awe of the rest of what he'd already seen of her. He found the walk back to his quarters to be longer than it normally would have seemed to him. Chapter Four For several centons, Adama felt himself drawn to the porthole which now offered him a clear view of the Pegasus off in the distance. The very sight of the battlestar was enough to fill the Galactica commander with a sense of renewed strength that he hadn't felt since the Holocaust. Yet strangely enough, the sight of the sister battlestar was also enough to make Adama ponder other less joyous matters. He had already sensed from their initial meeting that Cain's instinct for seizing the offensive might lead to complications further down the road. Not to mention the fact that Cain would probably need considerable convincing on the merit of having the Fleet search for Earth when undoubtedly his first desire was to see the Cylons brought to their knees at long last. In the nearly forty yahrens that Adama had known Cain, he had always seen the Juggernaut as the kind of man he might have been had he been the type to give in to his base instincts. For Adama knew that like Cain, he dreamed of seeing the Cylon Empire destroyed. Like Cain, he wished to see the Cylons receive payback in full for the Destruction and the Holocaust. Doubly so in Adama's case, since the added dimension of avenging both a son and a wife lost in that Holocaust was part of the equation too. But the one thing that ultimately made Adama different from Cain was his sense of diplomacy and tact. The ability to step back and think for an extra centon and realize what impulsiveness could lead to if it wasn't tempered by a general sense of restraint and reason. Qualities that were essential whether the environment was a viper cockpit, the bridge of a battlestar, or the chambers of the Council. To Adama, the only reason why Cain had been able to get by without diplomacy and restraint all these yahrens was because the Juggernaut possessed more natural talent as a strategic and tactical thinker than any other warrior in the history of the Colonies. He was thus, the only man alive who could get by on base instincts because of that strategic and tactical wizardry. Adama could remember how their different approaches to battle had led to clashes when the two of them served together in Blue Squadron aboard the Battlestar Cerberus. After their third battle engagement together, both had gone to the venerable Commander Odysseus asking to be assigned to different squadrons, since neither felt they could ever harmonize their respective approaches to battle. But Odysseus had refused, sensing that the two of them could in the end make an effective team if they realized how their competing styles could ultimately complement each other. And so, Adama and Cain had continued to fly together in the Cerberus's Blue Squadron group with slight suspicion of each other for the next yahren and a half, ultimately vindicating Odysseus's instincts in a number of successful missions against the Cylons. Cain's subsequent transfer to a more senior flight position aboard the Battlestar Pegasus brought an end to the missions he and Adama had shared together, and ever since, Adama's relationship with Cain had been that of old friends who only saw each other socially at ceremonial functions or for short visits during the rare times when both were on furlon and their wives were able to arrange a reunion. It was enough to make Adama wonder if after more than thirty five yahrens of not working together in combat, could the two of them learn how to complement their styles as they had before, or would it be like the beginning, when they had nearly been at each other's throats? And would the fact that Adama was now, by virtue of the Seniority System, Cain's superior and the final arbiter prove to be an even greater complication than he might have originally envisioned? He would soon know the answer when Cain presented his battle plan for capturing the Cylon tankers, which by his chronometer would take place within a centar. When Cain arrived in the Great Hall that normally served as the meeting place for the Council of Twelve, Adama was mildly surprised to see only Colonel Tolen accompanying him. Normal procedure would have meant having the viper squadron commander present too, which accounted for Apollo's presence along with Colonel Tigh. "Adama, Colonel, Captain." Cain politely nodded to the three Galactica officers as he went up to the navigation map. "This shouldn't take more than a centon." "Shouldn't your squadron leader be here too, Commander?" Apollo asked "No need," Cain waved his swagger stick. "This sort of thing is routine for my daughter. She knows what to expect." For only an instant, Apollo wondered if that was really the reason why Sheba hadn't decided to return from the Pegasus, especially in light of his earlier conversation with her. He then put that thought aside and leaned forward in his chair to listen intently while the Juggernaut outlined his plan. Seeing Commander Cain in action, showing off his genius and plotting a battle was something he'd always wanted to see. "This is the path of the Cylon supply convoy line to Gomorrah," Cain pointed to the upper right corner of the board. "They follow a strict timetable for delivery of materials to the outer capital. Even previous strikes and intercepts by our forces haven't caused them to deviate from them. I suspect the reason for that is because the command infrastructure at Gommorah hasn't been anxious to inform their superiors of the trouble we've been causing them, and thus are determined to maintain a semblance of normality when it comes to their supply schedule." Adama found himself nodding. It was already clear to him that the pursuit force commanded by Baltar couldn't possibly be aware that Cain and the Pegasus still lived, or else they would not have forced the Galactica into a quadrant of space where they could conceivably regroup with stronger numbers in the next engagement. And if the pursuit force didn't know, then it wasn't likely the Cylon Imperious Leader knew either. "According to their timetable, the latest convoy to arrive at Gomorrah would take place at 1200 tomorrow. That means that by 2000 tonight, they would be right here." Cain tapped his stick against the corner of the board. "And I feel our best opportunity is to take them on in this spot." "Commander," Colonel Tigh frowned. "That seems a little too far to our rear for our vipers to handle." "Not if we use turbos all the way." Adama drew up to the board and stared at it intently. "Turbos all the way," he mused. "Why not wait for them to be in closer proximity to Gomorrah, when we could handle them without using full turbos?" "Because it's a move that they wouldn't expect. The further out they are, the safer they think they'll be, and that will give us an element of total surprise that their machine minds couldn't begin to deal with." "But surely they provide fighter escort for their convoy," Adama turned to face the Juggernaut, still skeptical. "Suppose our vipers ended up in protracted combat and had to use their reserves? They wouldn't have enough fuel to make it back." "I don't fight prolonged battles with Cylons," Cain was still boastfully half-smiling. "They're not that good and we are." Tigh felt his eyes rolling inside. If we're that good, then why were we the ones who had our civilization wiped out six sectars ago? To anyone who had witnessed the Holocaust firsthand, the familiar boasts about the superior skills of Colonial warriors possessed the most hollow ring imaginable. Especially from someone who hadn't witnessed the horror of the Holocaust firsthand. "Very well, Cain," Adama said, more from resignation than enthusiasm. "The attack will launch at 1930 to intercept them at 2000. A single squadron from each battlestar will take part." "Adama," Cain gently interrupted, still keeping a genial expression. "No offense intended to your men, but I'd prefer to use just my own squadron on this maneuver." Apollo felt himself bristle slightly as soon as the words came out of the Juggernaut's mouth. He quickly glanced at his father, who seemed to be mildly exasperated. "Commander," Adama managed to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "I think for the purpose of morale, it might be best if we started to integrate our squadrons. To build a sense of teamwork." He put a slight stress on the last word, wondering if it still had any meaning to the Juggernaut after all these yahrens of having total free rein, and hoping it could at least rekindle the memory of how Ensign Cain and Ensign Adama had worked so well together aboard the Cerberus. To Adama's surprise though, Cain didn't argue the point. "Very well, Adama," he said nonchalantly. "I'm sure my warriors will be glad to pass on their experience. Silver Spar group is standing by aboard the Pegasus and will rendezvous with Captain Apollo's group within a centon after we're away." He and Adama then shook hands and the Juggernaut turned to depart, with Colonel Tolen trailing. As soon as the Pegasus commander and executive officer were gone, Apollo shook his head in a mixture of amazement and slight irritation. There had been something about Cain's easy braggadocio that like Tigh, had left him with a slight distaste in his mouth. "Is there anything he doesn't do better than everyone else?" he rose from his chair and came up to his father. "Oh, that's just his way of talking, Apollo," Adama shook his head and smiled. "I've known him for forty yahrens, and he's never changed a bit when it comes to that. But that doesn't take away the fact that he's the best man who ever came out of the Academy. He's always known how to back up his words with what he actually does." Tigh was shaking his head too, "All these yahrens I've heard people talk about him as though he were some kind of.....well some kind of god. And his crew still seems to think the same way. Did you notice how Tolen didn't say a word the whole time? Just kept nodding his head and smiling every time Cain made one of his boasts, as though there wasn't a good reason at all to question anything he might say." "Tigh," Adama looked at his old friend with gentle reproach. "You must remember that he's kept his people alive in the heart of this Cylon sector for more than two yahrens. Don't be surprised that his men would do anything for him." The executive officer let out an exasperated sigh as he rose from his seat. "Rightfully so, sir." But there was a ring of insincerity in Tigh's words. To Tigh, it was amazing that no one on the Pegasus seemed to wonder if perhaps their commander had made a terrible miscalculation in not trying to get home before the Destruction, where he might have been able to do something that could have helped prevent that tragedy from taking place. Tigh certainly knew that was how he would have reacted if he'd learned about the Holocaust secondhand as all the members of the Pegasus's crew had. As soon as Tigh was gone, Apollo took a breath and said, "I hope you do know that all this adulation and.....well awe that everyone feels for him in no way detracts from how the men feel about you." "Oh Apollo," his father said disarmingly, "We're not in a popularity contest, we're in a life and death struggle for survival. We need heroes like Cain. Men and women that our people can look up to and draw strength from. We haven't had anyone like that in our midst since we lost Commander Fairfax." "They've always had you, and they feel the same way about you," there was an air of defensiveness in Apollo's tone. But inside, he had always felt that his father had never received enough in terms of adulation and respect from the people for insuring their own basic survival. Instead, he had seen firsthand in the six sectars since the Holocaust, the complaints from people on passenger freighters about food shortages. The attempts by opponents on the Council of Twelve to undercut Adama, especially by Sire Uri at Carillon. And that had always made Apollo feel angry inside, since he knew that for his father to do what he had in the face of such personal tragedy himself, after losing both Ila and Zac, had required the greatest show of strength in human history. "I hope I haven't disappointed them." Adama smiled reassuringly and patted his son on the shoulder. "Now you get Blue Squadron assembled and ready to launch. I don't want you to arrive at those Cylon tankers after the Pegasus's group has already planted the Colonial flag on them." he smiled warmly, "There is a matter of pride after all. The kind of competition among capital ships that I've missed a great deal." Apollo finally relaxed, and he smiled back. "Yes sir." "Son," Adama clapped his shoulders again and looked at him with parental pride. "Good luck. And the Lords be with you." As soon as his son was gone, Adama felt himself wandering back to the navigation board, his eyes focusing again on the quadrant in the upper corner where the battle would take place. Hoping it would go off with perfect efficiency and that all of the inner concerns he'd felt and kept hidden in the conversation with his son would be proved wrong. As soon as she had returned to the Pegasus, Sheba had promptly retreated to her own quarters, which she shared with the only other three female pilots aboard the battlestar, and spent several centars lying in her bunk staring at the ceiling with a tight-lipped expression. Cursing inwardly at whatever Deity there was for reopening the most miserable chapter in her life in the form of Cassiopeia. The one individual that she could honestly admit aroused hatred inside her as surely as the Cylons did. To her, Cassiopeia had been the equivalent of a Plague in her life and had only recently finally receded in her mind to the safety of a distant nightmare. Now, a whole host of unpleasant memories passed through Sheba's mind like a video-com entertainment broadcast unfolding. Beginning four yahrens ago, when she'd come home from the Academy on a semester break to spend some time with her mother, who as always was trying to cope with the extended absences of her husband, which sometimes could be as long as a yahren and a half. And Sheba knew that ever since she'd entered the Academy, life had been growing more difficult for Bethany. In the past, Bethany always had two outlets to take her mind off the long separations from Cain, in her acting career and in raising her daughter. Sheba's coming of age and entry into the Academy had taken one of those safety valves away, and it was also becoming clear that after twenty yahrens as the queen of the Caprican National Theater, Bethany's career had gone into decline. No more was she being offered challenging roles that could keep her mind occupied. She never explained why, but the rumor was that she had suddenly developed an inability to remember lines and thus was considered too much of a bad risk for the kind of demanding parts in Caprican drama that she'd always excelled in and won five major awards for. That meant that she was now reduced to spending most of her time at home, alone and feeling the weight of loneliness in her life like never before. Because of that, Sheba had wanted to spend all of her semester break with her mother, and not go off with any Academy classmates to the resort areas of Caprica. And when she'd arrived at the Aerodrome, she received her first inkling that something wasn't right when her mother forgot to come down to meet her skybus. When she'd then telecommed her, Sheba was greeted with surprise as though her mother had totally forgotten that her daughter was coming home for a full sectar. It only took one day at home for Sheba to realize that her mother's sudden forgetfulness was a serious problem. At a restaurant that evening, Sheba felt herself growing alarmed when an actor that Bethany had worked with in many plays over the yahrens came up to their table to say hello. And Bethany had stared at him with blank confusion, finally saying, "Do I know you?" There were other signs of trouble that night. Whenever Sheba tried talking to her, she found her mother more or less oblivious to her presence and often going into rambling, disjointed discourses about Cain. Always filled with the sense of lonely longing for her husband, who she hadn't seen for a yahren now, and had not seen for a cumulative total of twenty out of thirty yahrens of marriage. Expressing the forlorn hope that the Juggernaut would one day retire from his career and return home for good. When she could finally have him "all to myself" as she'd rambled on over and over again. Finally, after two days of seeing more forgetfulness and more idle rambling, Sheba managed to get her mother to see a doctor at the Caprican Medical Center. And Sheba could still see the look of horror on the doctor's face when he re-emerged from examining Bethany and told Sheba that he needed to talk to her in private. "It's Gamma Syndrome." He'd said to her. "And there's nothing we can do about it." Gamma Syndrome. A degenerative brain disease of the worst kind. It always began with memory lapses and forgetfulness and after a lengthy dormant phase mushroomed into something more hideous in the final stage, when forgetfulness and rambling conversation was replaced by constant fever, delirium and incoherency. And Sheba had found herself a witness to the very point in time when the disease entered its final and more aggressive phase. For the rest of her semester break, Sheba had sat beside Bethany's hospital bed and watched the disease consume her mother. Watching her slip into seemingly endless periods of fever and delirium, no longer recognizing her daughter or anyone else, and crying out one word only. "Cain!" Over and over again, Sheba had to watch the terrible sight of her mother, strapped to her bed, crying out longingly for her husband, all the time knowing that only the sight of him standing by her bedside holding her hand and speaking tenderly to his wife, might restore her to a brief period of lucidity again, and perhaps give her some inner peace in her last days. Sheba had prayed desperately that her father would return before the end came. But trying to get word to Commander Cain of what was happening to his wife was not an easy task, especially since the Juggernaut was off with the Fifth Fleet conducting a dangerous strategic survey of all Cylon outposts within a 50 light yahren radius of the Colonial frontier. Only when the Fifth Fleet finally arrived at a spaceport for liberty would Cain be able to receive the news through Colonial channels, and even if by a miracle he soon got word, would he able to get back in time? In the end, he had not. After twenty days of wild fever and delirium, and with no memory of anything other than her husband, Bethany finally died. Her last word, the same as it had been since she'd slipped into incoherency. "Cain!" Twelve centars after she died, an anguished Cain finally arrived in the hospital. And upon discovering that he'd been too late, had collapsed into uncontrollable sobs of grief. For Sheba, the next phase of the bad memories had begun. Trying to provide some comfort to her father during his period of mourning for his wife, and finding herself rebuffed during that time. Wanting desperately to use the occasion as a time for bringing herself and her father closer together and feeling frustrated that he wouldn't permit it. Instead, he'd quietly told her to just go back to the Academy and continue her studies and training. That what she needed to do was get on with her life and put her own interests first. Reluctantly, Sheba had gone back to the Academy and thrown herself into her training and classes with an intensity that reminded many instructors of the intensity her father had shown as a cadet so many yahrens earlier. In the effort to take her mind off the pain of her mother's death and her father's grief, Sheba had finally enabled herself to tap into the inherent skills she possessed as a warrior and saw her shoot overnight from the middle to the top of her class. When she returned home from the Academy on her next semester break, her father was still on a yahren's leave from active duty that the Colonial Service had granted him. She had hoped that after two sectars, Cain might be ready to allow some bonding to take place between them and they could at last move on from the ugly chapter of Bethany's death. Instead, she returned and was greeted by the rudest shock imaginable to her psyche. She saw her father completely recovered from his grief. His old confidence and swagger back in his bearing and his walk. And his arm wrapped about the waist of a stunningly attractive blonde socialator named Cassiopeia. "Cain's told me so much about you," Cassiopeia had said in a friendly tone as she stepped forward to shake hands with Sheba. "It's good to meet you." Sheba could only remember muttering a word or two as she'd dimly shook hands with Cassiopeia. She couldn't understand at all why her father would at this point have turned to a socialator for comfort. She had tried to offer comfort and support to him and been rebuffed two sectars before. If he had felt the need for a socialator, then it could only have been for one reason. Not the emotional comfort they supposedly could provide a person, but for the physical need above all. It only took one day for Sheba's shock and disbelief to turn into hatred of Cassiopeia. What ultimately did it for her was her discovery that every holopicture and reminder of her mother's life was now gone completely from the house. Even Bethany's acting awards had been taken down from the living room mantlepiece and carted off into storage. She also found her father unable to even mention Bethany's name at any time, or to respond to any of Sheba's attempts to talk about her. And the way in which Cain was so wrapped up with Cassiopeia only made Sheba wonder if her father was trying to blot out Bethany's memory for all time, and if part of Cassiopeia's socialator training had meant making Cain forget all about his late wife. At the dinner table that night, as a cheerful Cain tried to make light conversation, Cassiopeia found herself feeling uncomfortable with each passing centon as Sheba said nothing. Staring at her with the coldest expression possible the whole time. There had then been confrontations, ugly words exchanged. About the only thing Cassiopeia and Sheba had found themselves agreeing on was the need to have their confrontations out of Cain's view, so he wouldn't be subjected to the sight of seeing the two people he now loved most going at each other's throats. On an on it went for a whole sectan before a bitter, angry Sheba finally went back to the Academy where she could at least use her classes and training as an escape from what she regarded as absolute madness at home. She simply could not understand why her father had needed to seek refuge in the arms of a socialator. Sheba had never been among those who felt there were redeeming qualities to the profession, and that already meant that in her eyes Cassiopeia could never have a shred of good character in her at all. And that Cain's infatuation with her could only have been because Cassiopeia had taken advantage of his grief so she could become the lover of the most renowned warrior in the Colonies. Cain's return to active duty as commander of the Fifth Fleet coincided with Sheba's graduation from the Academy. Sensing that he'd grown apart from his daughter over the last yahren, Cain had asked Sheba if she was interested in being assigned to serve under him aboard the Pegasus. She had instantly accepted, thinking that she might at last be able to find a way of reestablishing a relationship with her father since Cassiopeia would be out of the picture for as long as the Pegasus was on duty. It turned out to be the best possible thing that could have happened to Sheba after the yahren of hell she felt she'd been through since her mother's death and the arrival of Cassiopeia. Her first two sectars of integrating herself into Silver Spar group went with ease, as she developed close friendships with the other pilots in the squadron and soon had all of them in awe of her natural talent as a flyer. And more important from her standpoint was that she was able to reestablish the close relationship with her father that had been lost during the past yahren. He still wasn't comfortable talking openly about her mother, but at the very least the return to active duty had seemingly chased all thoughts of Cassiopeia from his mind, leaving Sheba with the hope that when the Pegasus eventually returned to the Colonies, her father would finally break the relationship with Cassiopeia for good. The Battle of Molocay proved to be the occasion when Sheba first showed her true strength as a warrior. At a time when the rest of the Fifth Fleet suffered near total devastation against the superior numbers of five Cylon baseships, Sheba never showed any of the panic that a green warrior might have been expected to show in her first heavy combat mission. Instead, when Sheba suddenly saw Silver Spar's squadron commander killed in the battle, she had promptly taken command of the leaderless group of vipers and organized them together in a counterstrike against the lead baseship, inflicting heavy damage from three strafing runs before she managed to organize a safe retreat back to the Pegasus. As soon as the Pegasus had succeeded in escaping from the carnage as the sole survivor of the Fifth Fleet, her father wasted little time in giving Sheba a quick promotion to Lieutenant and the title of strike commander for Silver Spar Squadron. And none of her fellow flyers viewed the quick promotion as a sign of nepotism at all, since they had seen firsthand how much she'd earned it. Her father's decision to not try to get back to the Colonies after escaping Molocay almost made Sheba feel relieved, in contrast to so many other warriors who felt uneasy about the thought of not being able to let their loved ones back home know that they were still alive. It almost seemed to tell Sheba that her father's feelings for Cassiopeia had cooled to the point where he wasn't about to do all he could to return to her. And so, the two yahrens since the Pegasus had arrived in the Gomorrah quadrant and gone into their constant mode of hit and run operations against the Cylon outer capital in many ways had turned out to be an experience that Sheba continued to enjoy immensely. Not only did it continue to provide her with the combat experience she felt was essential to honing her skills as a pilot and a leader of other pilots, but it also enabled her to deepen the close ties she'd developed with her father since they'd left Caprica three yahrens before. When the news of the Colonies destruction was intercepted six sectars earlier, it had left everyone aboard the Pegasus badly shaken by the thought that none of them would ever see their homes again and that their families were now all dead. But at no time did any of them use that news as an occasion for questioning why they had not been home during that time. Instead they chose to agree with what both Sheba and Bojay had repeatedly emphasized in numerous conversations. Everyone on the Pegasus owed his or her survival to Commander Cain. It was asking too much to think that he alone could somehow have made the difference in preventing the total destruction of Colonial Civilization even if the Pegasus had been able to make it back, which was never a realistic possibility. Instead, they should view themselves as fortunate that thanks to the Juggernaut, they had been spared the horror of being there and probably losing their lives in the process. As it turned out, just about everyone ended up agreeing with those sentiments. If anyone wanted to express a different opinion, that person likely knew he or she would have to deal with an angry Sheba defending her father's honor in the strongest terms possible. The last three yahrens since leaving the Colonies had not been a time for Sheba to consider developing any personal relationships with anyone but her father. She had come to regard the other pilots in Silver Spar group as good friends, especially Bojay, but none of them ever interested her from a romantic standpoint. She was at a point in her life when she just didn't think it mattered yet when her duties as a warrior, and more importantly to her father came above anything else. And while she certainly knew that there were men in Silver Spar group who had secret crushes on her, she also knew that none of them would ever feel the nerve to make a play for her, especially since they had no desire to risk incurring the potential wrath of the Juggernaut for making an ill-considered advance on his daughter. As far as she was concerned, she welcomed the fact that her status as Cain's daughter had made her untouchable from that standpoint. At least for now. It was, all things considered, an idyllic world that Sheba had found herself in these last three yahrens. A world that seemingly had become more idyllic with the discovery of the Galactica and her Fleet, and the opportunity to combine forces for greater military action against the Cylons. But now, the sudden return of Cassiopeia had shattered that idyllic world in Sheba's mind. And to see her father's arm about the one-time socialator's waist again only confirmed that her father had still regarded her with more importance than Sheba had liked to believe. And if Cassiopeia was now to become a permanent presence in her life, could she ever hope to maintain what she'd built up with her father these last three yahrens? Inevitably the coldness and hostility would have to arise again since there was nothing that could ever convince Sheba that Cassiopeia was anything but the evil person she had always thought of her as. She didn't care what anyone else said about Cassiopeia, especially someone like Captain Apollo, who couldn't begin to understand the pain Cassiopeia had caused in her life. Now that her mind had reached the last chapter of the four yahren span of memories, Sheba now found herself thinking idly about Apollo and wondering just why the Galactica warrior had seemed so anxious to have a word with her in the club, and then take it upon himself to be so concerned about her state of mind regarding Cassiopeia. Why should any of that matter to him? An odd man, that Apollo, she sighed as she kept gazing at the ceiling. And yet......there was something else about him. Something she couldn't put her finger on, yet. The room was suddenly cast in a red glow as the alert klaxon sounded. In an instant she'd got up from her bunk, grabbed her flight jacket and helmet and sprinted into the corridor toward the turbo lift that would take her to the launch bay. As soon as she reached the lift, she saw that Bojay was already on, having boarded the lift one deck above. "Do you know what's going on?" Sheba asked as she carefully piled her shoulder length hair into a topknot so it could fit underneath her helmet. Prudence would have dictated keeping it cut short to avoid the nuisance of attending to it, but Sheba had long ago vowed never to do that. She could never forget as a child how horrified her mother had been when she'd seen herself in the mirror after getting her hair cut for a play, and then wore a wig for the next several months while waiting for it to grow back. Since Sheba had the same face as her mother's, she was convinced that she'd have the same reaction her mother had if she ever did the same thing. "Got a quick briefing on it from Tolen." Bojay said. "Another routine mission to capture Cylon tankers headed for Gomorrah on the supply convoy." "Shouldn't be a problem then," Sheba shrugged as she secured the fastener to the topknot in her hair. "Only this time we'll be working with the Galactica's Blue Squadron group." She glanced briefly at Bojay. "How do you rate them as pilots? I wouldn't call our encounter with them this morning a fair indicator." "They're good flyers," Bojay said. "I....may have not had the best relationship with those guys, but Apollo and Starbuck know how to get the job done." She nodded as the lift came to a stop and they stepped onto the tarmac. As Sheba walked toward her viper, she was suddenly startled to see her father walking toward the viper next to hers, with a flight helmet under his arm. "Father?" she frowned as she came up to Cain. The Juggernaut was already vaulting himself into the cockpit. "What's going on? Why are you going with us?" As soon as Cain had settled himself in, he smiled down at his daughter. "It's just a routine strike. Nothing to it for an old pro like me." "But why go?" Sheba was deeply concerned since this was the first time in the three yahrens she'd been aboard the Pegasus that her father had ever done anything like this. "We can't afford risking you." Cain snapped his helmet into place and smiled at her again. "Going up against Cylon pilots in a convoy mission isn't taking a risk, Sheba. Besides," his tone suddenly grew serious. "On this mission, you can't afford not to risk having me along for the ride." "What are you talking about?" Sheba still felt uneasy over the thought of her father flying a viper in combat when she knew he hadn't done it for yahrens. "I'll explain later." He said simply and then smiled again. "Better get to your viper, Lieutenant. I need you to be my wingmate on this trip." With that, the Juggernaut closed his canopy. As soon as it locked into place, a slightly dazed Sheba managed to walk over to her own viper and lift herself in. "Galactica Core Command, this is Major Ham, Pegasus Core Command." Omega heard the deep voice in his headset. "We have transferred internal control to Silver Spar Group. All members now launching for rendezvous point." "Thank you, Pegasus Core Command." Omega replied. "Blue Squadron strike wing is standing by. Transferring internal control now. Will launch one centon following Silver Spar." Tigh felt a faint smile come over his face as he moved away from Omega's station and came over to Adama. "It really does seem like the old days." He said. "I'd forgotten what it felt like to have the luxury of dividing the load between two battlestars." "It's more than a luxury," Adama said. "A blessing would be a better word." Tigh couldn't help but note how Adama always seemed to prefer using a religious metaphor for just about any situation. He was convinced the Commander's penchant for using such words had more to do with his desire to subtly prod Tigh in the direction away from Skepticism. "Perhaps our running out of fuel was Providential, then." Tigh decided to test Adama's reaction to hearing him use similar words. "If we were still going at top speed, we might have missed Cain altogether and stumbled into Gomorrah and set ourselves up for disaster." Adama lifted an eyebrow in surprise since this was the first time he could recall Tigh using a religious metaphor. "Yes," he nodded. "Yes things do have a way of occurring Providentially. In a manner baffling to the mortal mind." He paused briefly. "It's nice to hear you thinking that way about things." "I said, perhaps." Tigh smiled wryly. "I've only moved to the point where I'm now keeping more of an open mind about such things than I used to." "Commander, Blue Squadron is now launched and proceeding to rendezvous with Silver Spar Squadron." Athena called over. Adama matched Tigh's wry smile and wagged his finger gently before moving to the center of the bridge. As soon as Apollo saw the ten viper cluster of Silver Spar group dead ahead, he slowed his speed down so he and the rest of Blue Group could carefully integrate themselves with the Pegasus vipers. "Blue Squadron now in place." He radioed. "Affirmative Blue Leader." Sheba replied. "Silver Spar group now in formation, standing by on max turbos." Apollo listened carefully to her voice, wondering if there would be any sign of the inner turmoil he'd seen in their earlier meeting, or whether it would be completely cold and professional as it had been in the first encounter. To the Galactica pilot, it sounded as though there was just a hint of unease in her voice. "Course plotted to convoy target." Apollo flicked the switches that activated his forward scanner. "ETA, twenty centons at max turbo speed. Standing by to engage." "Engage max turbos on my command which will be in thirty microns." A new voice suddenly spoke. One that completely caught Apollo off-guard the instant he heard it. "Captain," he heard Boomer's befuddled voice. "Isn't that Cain?" "Commander Cain." The Juggernaut cut in with an edge of cold formality. "And don't speak unless spoken to. Lieutenant Boomer, isn't it?" "Yes sir!" An embarrassed Boomer exclaimed, and felt as though he'd turn red in spite of his complexion. "But how....?" "I always make it a point to know everyone's name in my command." Cain said nonchalantly. "Engage turbos in ten microns." "Standing by." Apollo said as he readied himself and realized that any unease in Sheba's voice undoubtedly had to do with her father's presence and not because of any brooding over her father and Cassiopeia. He couldn't blame her for that. If his father had suddenly decided to take part in a combat engagement, he knew that he would have been a nervous wreck. "Engage!" the Juggernaut barked. With that, the twenty vipers hit their turbos and sped across the black void of space as fast as they were capable of moving. For the next fifteen centons, nothing was said by any of the pilots. Apollo knew that the Galactica pilots were all probably too intimidated by Cain's presence to say anything, while the Pegasus pilots in all likelihood regarded the entire operation as too routine after doing the same thing for two yahrens. Finally, Cain broke the silence. "Three centons to intercept." Apollo looked down at his scanner and saw nothing on the sweep. "Commander, I'm not getting anything on my scanner. If we're only three centons to target----" "You won't find them on your scanner." Cain interrupted. Blue Leader's befuddlement increased "Then how....?" "I can feel them, Captain. I can feel them." Inside his own cockpit, Starbuck was shaking his head in amazement. The easiness with which Cain spoke, trusting his own instincts ahead of the computer, had the ring of truth to the blonde lieutenant. Instinctively, he switched on his attack computer. Another two centons passed and every other pilot in the formation, without waiting for the order, did likewise. Even though their scanner readings indicated that they shouldn't have to at this point. "Commander." Apollo reported. "Picking up an ion cloud in Epsilon two sector, dead ahead. Contact less than one centon." "That'll be where their convoy is hidden." The Juggernaut said with certainty. "They've come to expect these raids from us and try to use meteor showers, ion clouds or any other natural phenomena to give them some cover. Stand by Captain, this is where we split up." Starbuck and Boomer both cocked their helmets in the direction of Apollo's viper as they heard this latest unexpected twist. "Uh.... Commander," Apollo tried to keep his tone delicate. "I thought our instructions were to go in as a single unit." "My tactical judgment says otherwise, Captain. There are at least two dozen fighters ready to jump us at the first sign of trouble for them. They're only used to seeing one squadron take them on so let's let them think they're facing the same numbers again, and that way we can get the drop on them and they won't know what hit them when the second squadron moves in." "Commander-" "We're doing this my way, Captain." Cain's tone was final. "Blue Squadron will head in first. Silver Spar, stand by with me." Apollo knew it was pointless to argue, but even so his long admiration for Cain made him realize that perhaps it really wasn't his place to argue, especially since the Juggernaut was such an expert on Cylon tactics in this area. Without saying another word, he activated his turbo again and Blue group followed suit. "Apollo," he heard Boomer's voice over the scrambled channel that Silver Spar group wasn't patched in to. "This doesn't make any sense. What's the danger in having all of us drop on them at once?" "I have no idea." Apollo shook his head. "But I guess he knows what he's doing so let's give it a micron and see what happens. We should be penetrating the ion cloud right about....now." Apollo's viper entered the gaseous cloud first. All around him was the scene of an eerie swirling mist that instantly caused him to have a bad mental flashback to a time six sectars ago at the Cimtar moon, when he and Zac had stumbled on to the Cylon ambush. And in the process his younger brother had ultimately lost his life. The cloud cover then lifted for a brief instant and Apollo felt the mental flashback deepen. Now he could see the unmistakable contours of two Cylon tankers, both of them identical in class to the empty one he had also glimpsed in the upper atmosphere of Cimtar just before his eyes had then detected the hundreds of Cylon fighters lying in wait. He abruptly shook himself back to reality, and cursed at himself for letting his mind wander back to the unpleasant memories of the past. It was quite obvious that he wasn't letting himself follow the same advice he'd earlier tried to give Sheba and that would only mean trouble for himself and the mission. "Apollo!" Starbuck shouted. "There they are! Two dozen of them closing fast!" "Engage! And get clear of those tankers so they don't get hit by any stray fire!" The ten vipers of Blue Squadron instantly shot out of the ion cloud back into the black of normal space just as they saw the Cylon fighters emerge. Apollo promptly took out the lead one and then went into a roll pattern to avoid the return fire from the next fighter in the column. In the middle of Blue Group, Jolly chose to linger an extra micron before following the rest of the squadron into a roll pattern. The instant his shot missed he realized he'd made an inexcusable error in judgment, and had now set himself up to be pursued as the Cylon fighter shot overhead and took up a position from behind. "Look out Jolly, you've got one on your tail!" Boomer radioed. "I know," the fat warrior gritted his teeth. "Frack, I can't seem to lose him!" "We're too tied up to lend you a hand, Jolly! Roll, dodge, try anything!" Apollo didn't bother to hold back the tension from his voice as he helplessly glanced at his scanner. Jolly felt the shockwave of a near-miss rattle his viper, and cause short circuits on several of his instruments. For an instant, he found it ironic that his first flight as an officer was likely to be his last. But then, just as fatalism had begun to take hold of his thoughts, he looked back and saw a viper from his right streaking in. It opened fire and destroyed the Cylon fighter just as the Cylon pilot was preparing to fire on Jolly's viper for the kill. "Thank you, whoever that was." Jolly sighed with relief. "My pleasure, Lieutenant." Cain's voice came through and had the sound of a man who was grinning in satisfaction. "Silver Spar group now ready to show them what skilled flying is really all about." The sudden arrival of the Pegasus vipers instantly turned the tide of the battle. As Apollo saw one Cylon after another taken out, he had to shake his head in amazed admiration at how the Juggernaut's tactical instincts had been vindicated again. "Captain, on your left!" he heard Cain shout. Apollo turned and saw that one of the remaining Cylons was headed straight for his cockpit. For a fraction of a micron, he felt himself freeze up and then frantically reached for his control stick to execute a roll pattern. "Hang on, Apollo, I've got him!" Sheba said without any trace of the uneasiness Apollo had heard earlier. Instead, her voice had Cain's identical tone of one grinning in satisfaction. As soon as Apollo saw the red streaks destroy the fighter, he shook his head in awed amazement again. He had misjudged Sheba's ability to put personal worries aside in the face of battle completely. "About five to six of them are trying to flee." Boomer spoke up. "Blue Squadron fighters, pursue and destroy!" Cain ordered. Apollo immediately went to his turbo and took off in pursuit of the fleeing Cylons. The rest of Blue Squadron followed their leader. As soon as the ten Galactica vipers were out of immediate visual range, Cain gently moved his viper back into the ionized cloud where the Cylon convoy ships were located. Sheba immediately followed her father's craft in, not wanting to let him out of her sight for a micron. As soon as the two Pegasus vipers were inside the cloud, they saw the two tankers almost dead in space at this point. Sheba took a scan and saw that both were unmanned which meant it would only be a matter of taking the vessels under tractor beam tow for bringing them back to the Fleet. And just as she had done on so many other occasions in the past two yahrens, she marveled at how the Cylons had never thought of having their tankers armed with self-destruct mechanisms to prevent them from being captured. Sheba had begun to reach for the switch that would activate her tractor beam, when she suddenly noticed that her father's viper had not slackened in speed. Instead, it was still proceeding at attack speed. "Father?" she frowned and radioed. "What are you......?" The words stuck in her throat as she realized in a flash why her father had come along on the mission. And then, she watched as Cain's viper opened fire and destroyed the first Cylon tanker. Sheba felt conflicted emotions go through her as she saw her father close in on the second tanker, which was now on the verge of escaping the cover of the ion cloud. She knew right away that her father was acting contrary to orders, since the objective was supposed to capture the tankers and not destroy them. And that he had deliberately ordered Blue Squadron out of the area so he engage in this subterfuge all by himself. But at the same time, if her father felt it was necessary to do this, her sense of loyalty and devotion to him told her that it had to be for a good reason. She said nothing as she saw him open fire again and destroy the second tanker. The heavier fuel load in the second tanker produced a more violent explosion than the first one did, taking more than several microns to die down completely. Just as the last embers faded, Sheba looked to her right and saw the lead vipers of Blue Squadron returning, now that they had destroyed the Cylons that had attempted to flee. "Commander?" there was an edge of puzzlement in Apollo's tone. "Yes, Captain?" Cain was totally nonchalant. "Were you aiming at a fighter? I didn't know there were any left in the ion cloud." "It was clear as a Nubian sun to me, Captain. Sometimes one or two of them stay back with the convoy just in case they decide to not let us have their cargo once it's clear they're going to lose it." Sheba felt the corners of her mouth tighten. That had never once happened on any previous mission to capture Cylon tankers. It hurt her deeply to see that her father was somehow determined to lie about what had happened on this mission, which only compounded the fact that he had chosen to disregard the mission objective. She could only hope and pray that it was truly for a good reason, as her instincts told her it had to be. "I.....see." Apollo's tone didn't conceal the suspiciousness he felt. "Did they get a chance to do that with the tankers?" "It would seem that they did, Captain. There's no trace of them on my scanner." He let out a resigned sigh that Sheba instantly knew was for show, in order to perpetuate the deception further. "Looks as though we came up empty." An uneasy silence now filled the air, as both Starbuck and Boomer glanced at Apollo's cockpit and could see the dubious look on Blue Leader's face. "Let's regroup and head for home, Captain." Cain said. "It looks as though we'll be needing to come up with a new strategy." "Commander," Tigh looked visibly deflated as he approached Adama. "The fighter squadrons are returning. No tankers captured." "What?" Adama's eyebrows arched upward in disbelief. "How can that be?" "According to Commander Cain, the Cylons either destroyed them to prevent their being captured, or they were accidentally hit by incidental fire." There was heavy sarcasm in the executive officer's voice. "Cain never mentioned the former as a possibility, and I can't believe that a squadron he personally led would allow that to happen." Adama's disbelief deepened. "Well, either way, only one thing is now certain." Tigh sighed. "We can't stay here, and we can't move without fuel. That means we have no choice but to move against the Cylon fuel base if we're going to get underway before Baltar's task force inevitably stumbles on to us." Adama pursed his lips slightly as he tried to come to terms with the new information. For almost a half centon he stared down at the floor in deep contemplation. "Tell Cain that he's to land on the Galactica, and that I want to see him and the two squadron leaders in my quarters the micron they're aboard." The displeasure was evident in the commander's voice. "Yes sir," Tigh nodded as Adama left the bridge. As soon as Apollo stepped out of his viper, he instantly came over to Sheba. And then he noticed how she seemed to instinctively lower her head as though she wanted to avoid direct eye contact with him. "Didn't go as well as it should have, right?" there was the faintest edge of sarcasm in his voice as they started walking to the turbo lift. Sheba lifted her head but kept her gaze forward so that she still avoided his face. "I guess not." "Has that ever happened before on a previous mission, where you didn't come back with what you wanted to get?" Apollo knew right away what the answer to that question was, but wanted to see if it got her to reveal anything else. He was already convinced that the Juggernaut's daughter had seen something she wasn't anxious to talk about. And if his hunch was right, then he already knew that his longstanding admiration of Commander Cain would be lying in ruins. "No," Sheba said coolly and kept looking ahead. "But we're not infallible, Captain. There's always a first time for anything." "I always thought your father regarded himself as infallible." The sarcasm was still in his voice. Sheba stopped and finally looked at him with the coldest expression possible. "What's that supposed to mean, Captain?" "Nothing," Apollo shook his head. "Just a reminder about what your father always said about himself in every vid-com interview I saw him give when I was a kid." The Juggernaut's daughter said nothing more as they reached the corridor that led to Adama's quarters. When they entered, Cain was already there, having landed on the Galactica five centons earlier than the two squadron leaders. "Now that you're both here, we can begin." Adama said stoically as he remained seated in the chair behind his desk. "Commander Cain, please give me your summary of the battle and why the mission objective failed." The Pegasus commander took five centons to recap the events. Throughout his narrative, Apollo found himself alternately staring at both Cain and Sheba, noticing again how Sheba seemed like a woman torn between deeply conflicting emotions. It was quite clear to Apollo that Sheba idolized her father in the same way that he idolized his own. And because of that, if she knew that her father had done something that she regarded as wrong, it could only mean the worst kind of inner turmoil for her. Which was exactly how Apollo knew he would feel if he ever found himself in the same position. He had once told Adama that "my ideals rise and fall on your standards" and if he ever saw Adama acting contrary to those standards, he'd have the same look on his face that Sheba had right now. And that could only mean one thing with regard to what had happened to the Cylon tankers. "....I'm sorry, Adama," Cain had finished his recap. "But with all those ships fighting in the air, in and around those tankers, almost anything could have happened if it wasn't a case of the Cylons deliberately destroying them." He moved forward toward the desk. "All things considered, it might have been better if just my squadron had gone. After all, we do have more experience in hit and run tactics." Adama allowed Cain's words to sink in and then slowly exhaled. "Yes, I suppose it was a mistake mixing squadrons that never fought together before. Perhaps a period of training exercise was needed first before moving to that level." Apollo had finally reached the breaking point. One thing he wasn't going to stand for was the suggestion that his own squadron had been responsible for the mission's failure. "Commander, with all due respect, Blue Squadron was nowhere in the vicinity of those tankers when they blew up." He then glared at the Juggernaut. "We were operating under your orders to pursue the Cylons that had chosen to flee. If any incidental fire destroyed those tankers, it could only have come from within your squadron's ranks!" "You may be right, Captain." Cain nonchalantly shrugged. "If I did you an injustice, accept my apologies. You and your squadron handled yourselves as well as any warriors I've ever seen. It was an honor to have you along." He then motioned his swagger stick toward the captain. "And I wouldn't dream of attacking that Cylon base on Gomorrah without you." The last piece of the puzzle now fell into place for Apollo. "We're going up against the whole base?" He almost didn't phrase it as a question since the whole thing was now self-evident to him. Cain had deliberately destroyed the tankers so he could force Adama into approving a reckless attack on Gomorrah. He acts as though the Holocaust never happened, Apollo found himself thinking. It's as if he thinks he can still be the same old Cain when the situation is so different now. Inwardly, he was crushed to see that the Juggernaut hadn't been able to realize that different times called for a different approach to fighting the Cylons. Until this mission, Apollo had genuinely believed that Cain would have been able to realize that the days of seeking glory through daring engagements against the Cylons were gone forever. Or at the very least until the Fleet discovered Earth some day and perhaps found the means to fight back again. "I don't think we have any choice now," Cain answered Apollo's question and then glanced over at Adama. "Do we?" Adama's expression remained neutral. "Events seem to have left us with very few alternatives." Apollo glanced over at Sheba again. He was not surprised to see that her gaze was still focused on the tips of her boots. "Then it's settled." Cain said. "We should begin work on the battle plan immediately." Adama rose from his chair and didn't change his expression. "No. I'll give you my decision in the morning as to what our next option is." Cain was slightly taken aback. "Adama, we can't wait for a decision in the morning. We need to go over my battle plan today. Right now in fact." "In the morning." Adama's voice took on a harder edge. "Adama----" "Dismissed." Adama injected the edge of command to Cain's face as he had never done before. There was total incredulity in the Juggernaut's face. Not just at hearing Adama order him in the tone of voice he might have expected only a recruit to hear, but also by the fact that Adama had not readily seen what had long seemed obvious to Cain. "Very well," he said. "I'll stay on the Galactica until you make up your mind. If you need me, I'll be in the Officers Club." He then turned and left, with Sheba trailing him. As soon as they were gone, Apollo bolted over to Adama as though he'd been fired down a launch tube. "Father," he motioned his arm toward the door where Cain had just disappeared. "He-" But he found himself unable to get any further. "Yes?" his father's stare was piercing. "You have something to say?" Apollo shook his head. "No," he muttered. "Nothing, I----" "You don't need to say anything, Apollo." Adama's head turned away slightly. "I know what you're thinking. And that's why I need time to make this decision." His son nodded faintly and then ran out of the room. Apollo looked down the corridor and could see Cain and Sheba at the far end. "Sheba," he called out and dashed up to them. "I'd like to talk to you." There was a hard edge in Apollo's tone. Sheba looked uneasily at him. "I was just about to join my father at the club-" "That's all right," Cain said gently. "Cassiopeia and I will save you a place." The Juggernaut walked away, leaving a visibly agitated Sheba alone with an angry Apollo. "Look, I really don't feel that well, I don't think I----" Apollo abruptly grabbed her by the arm. "Not until I get a straight answer from you, Sheba. What happened to those tankers out there?" "You heard the report." She seemed to struggle to keep up a facade of one who wouldn't back down. "Cylon sabotage or incidental fire." "Oh right," Apollo said with disgust. "For your information Sheba, there wasn't a single Cylon on my scanner or anyone else's in that area after your father sent us off to take care of the others. That means the first explanation won't wash. And as for the second explanation, are you trying to tell me that someone as good as you and Bojay, and everyone else in Silver Spar Squadron are, blew the whole purpose of the mission by accident?" "Yes!" her nostrils flared. "That's exactly what I'm saying." Apollo allowed himself a grim smile of satisfaction. "In that case, I guess we have found a weakness or two, haven't we?" He then turned and walked away. It took Sheba almost a centon before she found the strength to move and resume walking to the Club. Knowing that her inner turmoil over what had just happened wasn't going to be lessened by the sight of her father and Cassiopeia sharing a table together. She then stopped in her tracks and headed back toward the launch bay. For now, the solitude of her quarters was the only thing she wanted. "Cain, do you really think she's going to come?" Cassiopeia asked as she saw Cain glance at his chronometer for the fifth time in the last ten centons. "I'm sure she will." The Juggernaut said confidently. "She-" but when he looked up at Cassiopeia he saw her slowly shaking his head. "Cain, it's worse than you ever realized." she said. "Sheba doesn't merely resent me, she hates me." "Oh come now." Cain mildly protested. "Sheba doesn't hate anyone. She----" "She hates me," Cassiopeia repeated. "And I think the sooner you realize that, the sooner you can also realize that the only way you're ever going to get her and me to share a table, is to have the kind of talk you should have had with her a long time ago." Cain's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?" The blonde med-tech sighed. "You need to tell her the things you told me yesterday. About why you could never reach out to her. That you still worship her mother's memory. The only way you're ever going to put her mind at ease about the past is to let her know that." "She knows how I feel about her mother." Cain suddenly lowered his head to avoid looking directly at her. "Does she? Have you ever once had a meaningful conversation with her about that, these last two yahrens?" Cain didn't look at her. "Cassie, I'd rather not talk about this." "You have to." Her tone grew pointed. "Because if you really want us to resume what we had, then you have to finally be honest with her. I won't let her go on thinking that I'm the reason why you took down every holopicture of Bethany in your house and put all her awards out of view, or that I tried to make you forget Bethany completely." The Juggernaut forced himself to look at her. "She really believes that?" "Yes." Cassiopeia nodded. "The subject came up more than once in some of the various ugly confrontations we had." "You never told me you had any confrontations with her." Cain was genuinely surprised. "I did that to protect you," Cassiopeia said. "I didn't want you to know that the only two people you loved were going at each other's throats, because I didn't want to put you in the position of having to choose between us or being subjected to any new anguish in your life. And it took me a long time to realize what a terrible mistake I made there. I should have forced the issue with you and made you have that heartfelt talk with Sheba back then. And that's why you have to have that talk with her now, if you expect me to eventually choose you over Starbuck." she paused briefly. "I won't accept a return to the old status quo, Cain. That much I can tell you." Left unspoken was the other thing she wanted Cain to eventually understand. That if she was to resume her relationship with the Juggernaut, she expected it to go beyond that of mere lovers. But that was a matter she had no intention of confronting Cain about until after he had finally squared things with Sheba. Cain lowered his head again and then absently downed his tankard. He put the empty container down and idly drummed his fingers on the table. "I'll talk to her after the fuel situation is resolved." He said finally. "I....need to concentrate on my battle plan right now. When that's past.....then I can finally clear the air with her and.....make things right between the two of you." "Why not tonight?" Cassiopeia protested. "Cassie, please." Cain still didn't look at her. "I've never done a good job mixing combat responsibilities with family responsibilities in my life. I'll do it, but not until things have settled down." The Juggernaut then took his empty tankard and went back to the bar for a refill. As soon as it was filled, Cain suddenly raised it and said loudly. "If I might have a centon of your time!" The conversation in the Officers Club came to a standstill as every person trained their eyes on Cain. "At this time, I'd like to declare a toast." Cain smiled broadly with that edge of confident swagger he was noted for. "To our victory today over the Cylons, and to greater victory tomorrow!" "Hail!" The warriors all raised their tankards and let out the customary cheer for such occasions. For so many of the Galactica warriors, it had been so long since they'd felt the urge to raise their tankards and cheer. Now, the sight of Cain leading them in a toast, made them all glad to seize the opportunity. Cassiopeia shook her head in amazement as she watched Cain in all his natural swagger as a warrior. There was little doubt but that the Juggernaut was the most compartmentalized individual she'd ever met. Totally at ease in the role of warrior and leader, and totally ill at ease when it came to expressing himself to the ones who were closest to him. With that realization, she reminded herself that Cain wasn't the only man in her life who possessed that compartmentalized nature. In many ways, Starbuck was the same. Like Cain, Starbuck was a maverick among warriors who preferred to trust his instincts when it came to battle. Like Cain, Starbuck was difficult when it came to opening up about the things that were closest to his heart. The only real difference between the two was that whereas Cain was driven to leave his mark on history as the best warrior of his generation, Starbuck lacked that motivation, and preferred to spend his spare time in idle leisures like gambling and carousing. No one would ever look at Starbuck and envision a future battlestar commander or a great leader of men. Eventually, I have to choose between them, she sighed. And at this point, it seems more like it comes down to a question of which one would be hurt the least if I rejected him. For now, Cassiopeia had no answer to that. Like Cain's decision to talk to Sheba, it was something that would have to wait for now. As the evening cycle began for the people of the Fleet, activity aboard the 220 ships trailing the Galactica had come to a standstill. Already, the fuel shortages had made it impossible for many ships to conduct normal operations in the day cycle. That meant that in the evening cycle, with most passengers and crew in sleep modes, the normal tasks of expending energy on constant scan of their rear flank would all but cease, so that every last drop of fuel could be saved to generate normal life-support functions. The five ships at the tail end of the convoy were among those that were already on the verge of running out of fuel, which meant they'd been forced to lie further back than they normally did. Ultimately, that meant that it was possible for any craft to their rear to scan their presence, and still not register on the scanners of the Galactica, far ahead at the front of the convoy. With the five ships unable to scan their wake, there was no one able to take note of the five Cylon scout patrol ships that had managed to detect their presence, without being detected in turn by the ships further ahead. Once the positions of the Fleet's rear convoy had been established, the five Cylon raiders turned around and headed back to the three baseships of the pursuit force that had sent them out. Chapter Five Apollo could already feel the edge of tension in the air as he took his seat at the table ordinarily used by the Council of Twelve in the Great Hall chamber. He knew that no matter what decision was arrived at, there was going to be a potentially unpleasant clash between his father and Commander Cain. If his father ended up approving a potentially dangerous strike against Gomorrah, he was bound to let Cain know in no uncertain terms how he was doing it reluctantly, and would no doubt attach a number of restrictive measures to it. And if his father did not approve the operation, as Apollo hoped would be the case, then the confrontation between the two commanders would be even worse. The door opened and Cain entered followed by Tolen, Bojay and Sheba. They took their seats at the other side of the table, with the Pegasus commander seated closest to the navigation map, where Adama was standing. There was an air of confidence in the Juggernaut's expression. From his standpoint, only one course of action was available to the Fleet, just as it had been the case even before the tanker mission. Finally, the Galactica commander calmly took a breath and began. "I have carefully reviewed all of the available information from the data tapes aboard the Pegasus and the Galactica." his tone was detached, but with the faint edge of command authority that he had long been noted for. "And it is clear to me that to attack the base at Gomorrah would necessitate the forfeiture of countless lives. Those are losses unacceptable to me even if we were successful in seizing fuel from the Cylon depot." Cain's face contorted in disbelief as he got to his feet. "Adama," the Juggernaut clearly struggled to keep his tone even. "We have no other choice. Your fleet is standing dead in space. It's only a matter of time before the task force arrives and attacks. And that means that if you don't have us take the initiative at Gomorrah, a lot more lives will be forfeited." Adama looked him in the eye. "There is however, another choice which will insure no loss of life." "And what choice is that?" "According to my data, the Pegasus is carrying a maximum fuel load." Adama said in firm, measured tones. "And that means that as an older, Atlantia class battlestar, the Pegasus has eighty full tanks of reserve solium and tylium to power her systems, far higher than what is carried on a battlestar with self-generating engines like the Galactica. I intend to divide part of that load amongst the Fleet." Cain's expression suddenly became that of someone who felt he had just heard a madman speak. "What?" Behind him, Tolen, Bojay and Sheba were also staring at Adama in stunned disbelief. "Only a sufficient amount to provide all ships at the lowest fuel levels with enough to manage for the next sectan, and give us time to escape this quadrant without loss of life." "And what happens after that in another sectan?" Cain began to feel his blood boiling inside as he stepped toward Adama. The Galactica commander calmly exhaled. "Hopefully by then, our scanners will have located a secondary fuel source before we run out of fuel again." "Hopefully." Cain repeated the word with a faint edge of caustic sarcasm. "Commander, with all due respect, we can not risk the lives of our people on luck or prayers that all of a sudden, another fuel source will suddenly turn up out of the blue." He pointed his swagger stick at the center of the navigation board. "All the fuel we need is right there at that base on Gomorrah. And we have two full battlestars to hit them with. That's firepower they haven't seen the likes of before, and would catch them completely by surprise." Adama clasped his hands behind his back. "And what do you suppose would happen if we left our Fleet of civilian ships unguarded while we went off to conquer a planet?" So far, Adama hadn't raised his voice or allowed himself to show any signs of displeasure toward Cain. The last thing he wanted to do was let this incident erupt into something totally unpleasant that could easily have a crippling effect on Fleet morale. However angry Adama was inside over what he knew Cain had done the previous day, he knew he needed the Juggernaut, and had to bend over backwards to give him every chance to agree to the strategy that needed to be implemented. Cain however, refused to back down. "Hades Hole, Adama, I'm not talking about securing the planet, I'm talking about raiding that depot, and we can be in and out of there before they know what's hit them." Adama began to feel his patience ebbing. "Cain, I don't think you fully appreciate the situation that we've been up against these last six sectars. We've been dogging Baltar's task force ever since we left our own star system. His ships strike without warning and could even be massing for attack right now at this very centon. Lord knows they've conceivably had enough time to perhaps pick up our trail since our fuel shortage has made it impossible for us to fully concentrate our rear scan." "Anything is possible," Cain conceded. "But I prefer to deal with the probable. And the probabilities are that with our combined strength, we can achieve our first clean victory since we lost the war." Apollo felt his jaw tighten as soon as Cain's words were out, since that only indicated to him how much the Juggernaut was out of touch with reality. Not being present to witness the Holocaust had clearly left Cain unable to face the fact that the war he had been fighting all his life, indeed the war that everyone had been fighting for so many yahrens, was over and done with. Battles could no longer be fought for principles of honor and glory because those principles, however noble they might have once been, had been rendered meaningless for all time by the Holocaust. Now, mere survival was all that counted, and matters of pride could no longer enter the equation. The same thoughts were going through Apollo's father. "Cain, I'm not interested in victories." He raised his tone slightly. "I'm interested in saving lives. What few of them are left now." Cain stared at him, still in a state of incredulity. "So that's your decision then." "It is." Adama's tone was final. He then turned to his executive officer. "Colonel Tigh, you will begin implementation of distributing the Pegasus's fuel to the ships throughout the Fleet." Adama had begun to move toward the door, when Cain's voice suddenly stopped him in his tracks. "Commander," the veins were throbbing in Cain's neck, indicating that he was doing all he could to keep from exploding in fury. "I will not allow that." The Juggernaut's sharp words of defiance instantly brought all movement in the room to a standstill. Now, an air of tension and unease filled the face of every man and woman present. On one side of the table, the three Pegasus representatives were also showing signs of trying not to explode. From the other side, Apollo could see Sheba tight-lipped and rapping her clenched fist against the table. Next to Apollo, Starbuck was too numb to lean over and whisper an observation in his friend's ear like he normally would have. Adama slowly turned around and glared at his old friend. The time had now come for him to exercise his authority to the fullest. "As Fleet Commander, and President of the Council of Twelve, I have given you my order, Commander." He said calmly. "You have no choice." Cain stepped toward him, matching Adama's glare. "I think I do. I think two yahrens of surviving the Cylons alone in this quadrant, without any help from you or the Colonies, has earned my people and my crew the right to decide their own destiny." Colonel Tigh was tapping his own clenched fist against the wall to keep his own anger under control. To hear Cain talk about what he had supposedly earned as a result of not being where he was needed most six sectars ago, only made him all the more angry inside. Adama had now reached the breaking point. It was time for him to drag out into the open the subject he had wanted to keep silent about. "In the same way that you decided the destiny of those two Cylon tankers?" his question had the air of a laser shot hitting its target in the middle. "Or did you put that to your crew for a vote before you chose to deliberately sabotage the mission objective?" Cain bristled slightly, while Sheba stopped rapping her fist against the desk. Adama's words had cut like a knife to her heart, since she knew inside that from a pure technical standpoint, Adama was correct. But at the same time, the sight of her father being subjected to a public dressing down when his motives had clearly been for the honorable reason of trying to get Adama to show some initiative, and take a risk that would guarantee greater security for the Fleet in the form of more fuel was difficult for her to take. The more she listened to Adama, the more she came away with the idea that the Fleet was being run by a passive commander who preferred to run from a challenge and leave everything up to the forlorn hope of Divine whim to insure survival. And to Sheba's way of thinking, just like that of her father, that was an irresponsible command philosophy. The Juggernaut slowly exhaled and straightened himself. "I did what I thought I had to do, to assure the survival of our people. How long do you suppose the fuel supply from those tankers would have lasted? Two sectans maybe? And then we'd just sit back on our astrums and wait for Divine intervention to lead us to a planet in uncharted space with tylium and solium deposits?" He shook his head. "Adama, if you really want this Fleet to survive for God knows how many yahrens, to find a planet you don't even know the location of, you have to be willing to take a risk that will make that possible! And that means seizing an opportunity that will give us enough fuel to sustain this Fleet indefinitely!" Adama stared at him in grim-faced silence. The corners of his lips tightened in anger. "We must take that base!" Cain flailed his arm in the direction of the navigation board. "We must take Gomorrah!" A deadly silence filled the room for several microns before Adama finally spoke. His tone low, his words firm and final. Determined to carry out the unpleasant task that he now realized had to be accomplished. "That is one opinion, Commander." He said. "It does not happen to be mine. And since you are clearly unwilling to carry out the lawful command of a superior, I therefore have no choice but to relieve you of any further responsibility of making decisions contrary to orders." Cain looked as if he'd been dealt a blow to the chin. "You're relieved of your command." Adama raised his voice to the tone he ordinarily reserved for a disobedient cadet. "Colonel Tigh, you will assume the bridge of the Pegasus and begin preparations for fuel dispersal." The Galactica commander said nothing more as he turned and walked out of the Great Hall with the angriest expression Apollo could ever remember. When Adama had left, no one was able to move. Finally, after a long centon, Cain shook himself out of his stupor and departed. To Starbuck, the atmosphere in the room had the aura of a deep tomb. They had all witnessed a spectacle that had produced varying degrees of shock, anger and humiliation in each individual present. Apollo felt himself simultaneously proud of how his father had held his ground, and at the same time embarrassed that he'd been forced to see a great warrior like Cain subjected to the humiliation of losing his command. The fact that Cain had invited all of the trouble from his standpoint in no way lessened Apollo's regret at seeing it come to that. He found himself staring at Sheba again. Commander Cain's daughter had drawn herself up from her seat. Her eyes burning with anger and fury. She paused only to give Apollo the coldest of glances and then left the room, with an equally angry Bojay following. Colonel Tolen was the last of the Pegasus contingent to rise from his seat. The Pegasus executive officer's usually genial expression was now replaced by a cold mask of anger. Tigh knew right away that all of it was directed at him, because he knew that Tolen could not have been happy to not only see his commander relieved, but also to see an outsider placed into a position that under normal circumstances should have been rightfully his. The one thing that was certain in Tigh's mind was that he wasn't even going to allow himself one brief instantaneous feeling of elation at finally achieving what had once been his greatest goal in life. To achieve the command of his own battlestar. It had come not as the result of reward for service well done, but because of the most distasteful circumstances possible. And Tolen's look was all he needed to know how much resentment he was going to be facing from the men and women he'd now be responsible for. Once the two executive officers had gone, Starbuck finally exhaled and broke the silence in the room. "Wow." He shook his head, unable to say anything else. "Somebody tell me I'm dreaming," Boomer said, still trembling. "I wish you were," Apollo sadly looked at the door where Cain and the Pegasus contingent had walked out. "What makes it so bad is that everything we'd hoped to get out of finding Cain alive and well is now out the window. And....I don't know, but if his crew is as loyal to him as I think they are, I don't see how we're ever going to be able to work together. This kind of poisoned atmosphere might be the thing that kills us all before the Cylons do." "You really think it's going to come to that, Apollo?" Starbuck asked. Apollo couldn't get Sheba's angry look out of his mind. Knowing all the while that he might have reacted the same way to events if he'd been in her position. "I hope not," he sighed. "By all the Lords, I hope not." Cain had gone halfway down the corridor, when he stopped and saw Adama standing in front of him. The Galactica commander's arms were folded, his angry expression now replaced by one of sadness. "Cain," he said gently. "Could you come with me to my quarters?" Cain glared at him with an air of bitterness. "Is that a request or an order?" "It is a request from an old friend," Adama said. "There will be no ranks between us during the conversation. You're free to speak your mind about anything." The Juggernaut slowly exhaled. "Very well then." He followed Adama down the corridor, where the Galactica commander led him inside to his quarters. Adama took his place behind his desk, while Cain sat down in the chair in front of him. He seemed to sag heavily in it, as though all the fire and energy had been robbed from him completely. "Cain," Adama said. "By all the Lords, I am sorry, but you left me with no choice." "Did I?" Cain glared at him. "Adama, what's happened to you? I know you and I have always had different views of battle tactics, but when we flew together on the Cerberus, you never shrunk before a challenge. Now, at a time when risks need to be taken in the name of long-term survival, you......" he trailed off unable to finish his thought. "Is that what you think I am, Cain?" Adama had vowed not to raise his voice during the conversation. From his standpoint, this would be the Juggernaut's one and only chance to let off some steam and he intended to let Cain have it. "You think I've all of a sudden become a coward?" Cain let out a mirthless chuckle. "If you like." "Cain, if I didn't have to worry about the problem of Baltar's task force, I'd have approved your battle plan in a micron." Adama put all the sincerity he could in his voice. "Do you think there isn't a part of me that wishes we could strike a lethal blow against the Cylons? Believe it or not, Cain, there is a part of me that still yearns to see some pride avenged at long last against those demons." "I hadn't noticed," Cain interjected acidly. "No, I suppose you haven't." His old friend leaned back in his chair. "But it's there, nonetheless. I've felt it tearing at my soul ever since the night I went back to the surface of Caprica, and walked through the ruins of my house and had to realize that I'd lost Ila forever, along with my youngest son, and that every hope and dream I'd carried in my heart for yahrens about making up for lost time to the people I loved most, had been taken from me by Cylon treachery." The anger and bitterness faded from Cain's face. Up to this point, he hadn't bothered to fully realize the personal anguish Adama had to have gone through in the Holocaust. An anguish that in the end, was even greater than the anguish he still carried in his heart over not being there when his own wife had died. "All right, Adama," he sighed and waved his hand. "All right, I apologize for calling you a coward. I----" he then visibly shuddered. "Adama, I can't let go of the old war. I.....I can't adjust to the idea that we can't take risks against them any longer. How can I let go of that when......." he took a breath. "When I wasn't there to see the horror of the Holocaust and do something about that? If anything, I need to make up for that, somehow." "Don't live with that burden, Cain," Adama said. "Whatever else you do, let go of it." The Juggernaut didn't look up. "Is there anything else you want to say?" Adama gently inquired. Cain looked up at him. "Is this decision of yours, permanent?" Adama sighed. "Truthfully, Cain, I don't know the answer to that yet. I need to have some guarantee that if I restore you to command, it will be with the understanding that you are willing to work within the infrastructure of the Colonial Command system." He paused. "As soon as the present crisis is over, and we have successfully escaped this quadrant, I will let you know exactly where you stand." Cain warily got up from his chair. He didn't bother saying anything else, as he left the room. To Adama, it was the first time that the Juggernaut seemed to show the full weight of his age. It took Adama nearly a centon before he bothered to contact the bridge and resume attending to the logistics of the fuel transfer. Sheba and Bojay were both waiting in the Officers Club, knowing that sooner or later Cain would arrive. They had done much conversing as they waited, and had now supplanted their anger with a fierce determination about what they would be doing next. When Cain entered the Club, Sheba noticed right away how spent her father seemed. The slowness of his walk and the stunned air of disbelief on his face immediately reminded her of how he'd seemed in the period following her mother's death. I'm not going to let an irresponsible commander send him over the edge again, she vowed to herself as she rose and went over to his table, with Bojay trailing. "Father?" Cain absently looked up as he took a sip from his tankard. "Oh....Sheba. Care to join me?" She sat down across from him, "Father, Bojay and I have been doing a lot of talking and....well we think there's little question that the rest of the crew would agree with us too." "About what?" he put down his tankard and frowned. "That all of us are prepared to follow you in whatever you decide to do." She summoned all of her inner strength to keep her voice firm. Her father smiled mirthlessly. "Thanks Sheba, but you heard the man. I don't decide anything anymore. It's over and done with." "Sir," Bojay said. "What we mean is....." The Juggernaut abruptly interrupted him. "I think I know what the both of you mean. And my advice is that the both of you forget it. Right now." "Father," Sheba grabbed his hand. "You can't let this happen. The people of this Fleet need a leader of action. Someone who can inspire them and give them hope in ways that are a lot more tangible than what Adama's offering." Cain gently patted his daughter's hand and then drew himself up "Sheba, what I did out there last night was a matter of bending the rules of combat tactics to achieve what I felt was a greater end. That kind of thing I might have an unfortunate penchant for, but not what you're talking about. Because there's only one word for that, and it's called mutiny." "Commander," Bojay started, but Cain cut him off again. "Now I might be the most stubborn, egocentric warrior in the history of the Colonies, but I'm also the best damned warrior in the history of the Colonies. And that means that I have enough sense of honor to realize that the last thing I should do right now is defy orders, pull out the Pegasus and leave this Fleet defenseless at the mercy of those gallmonging Cylons. Is that really what you think I should do right now?" "Yes," Sheba said firmly. "Because what you said at the briefing was correct. You can't let this Fleet survive on the forlorn hope that another fuel source can be found within a sectan. That means that it's Adama who's leaving them defenseless in the long term, not you." "Good people can make the case for either side," Cain calmly took another sip of his ale. "But the bottom line is that Adama has the final say on all matters." "And what gives him that right?" Sheba's nostrils flared. "An ancient thing called the Seniority System that gives preference to those who graduate from the Academy one semester earlier, even if they are inferior warriors? Why should that be the thing that ultimately determines our fate?" "He's also the President of the Council of Twelve." Cain reminded gently. "Which only further underscores why I can't question the decision. Besides," he looked down. "You shouldn't be so hard on Adama. He....well what he's been through these last six sectars makes what we've been through in the last two yahrens, pale by comparison." Sheba's expression tightened. She was unable to say anything else at this point. "Now you and Bojay go back to the Pegasus and get to work for your new commander." Cain sighed and went back to his drink. "I'll.....find out later what exactly my new duties entail. Right now, I'd.....rather be alone." "I guess that's it," Bojay sighed as he and Sheba walked down the corridor to the launch bay. "No it isn't." Sheba said with cold determination. "If he's not willing to do it himself, then we have to take the initiative ourselves. We need to make a statement and let Adama know that we're not going to stand for this." Bojay looked at her. "You think it would make a difference?" "Who knows? But I'll be damned if I don't try something. Something that will make the people realize that they've got the wrong man in charge." He nodded. "I agree. The way he is now, he....." he broke off. "Adama's left him without any sense of meaning or purpose any longer," Sheba went on angrily, voicing her words aloud more for her own benefit than Bojay's. "Already, he's halfway to becoming a burnt out shell, and that's exactly what he'll be if he has to keep serving under Adama. The only way we can save him is to make him realize how much he's needed, and to let the people see that clearly too." Bojay was impressed by the determination in her voice. It only reinforced his own belief that something needed to be done and fast. "We'd better not waste any time," he said as they reached the launch bay. "We've got a lot of talking to do with the rest of the crew." For the first time in a very long while, Baltar could feel a sense of exhilaration coarsing through his body. It was a sensation he had not felt since the days leading up to the Holocaust, when he had been convinced that his dream of ruling his own planet, Piscera, as an absolute monarch would become a reality thanks to his decision to betray humanity to the Cylons. The only difference though, he smugly reminded himself for perhaps the thousandth time in the last several days, was that this time there would be no double-cross by the Cylon Imperious Leader. He would receive exactly what was owed him for services rendered, and he would do it in a manner where the Leader and everyone else in the Cylon High Command would have no choice but to reward him. It had taken him many sectans to come to terms with the fact that the only way he could ensure his survival was to become genuinely committed to the Cylon cause and embrace it with a fervor as great as the previous Imperious Leader's had been. That had not been his desire when he had been so unexpectedly spared by the current Leader following his predecessor's death at Carillon, and given a baseship command. Originally, his goal had been to find a means of turning the tables on the Cylons and extract revenge for the double-cross he had been subjected to when Piscera, like the rest of the Colonies, had been destroyed. The only way he could achieve that however, was to get hold of Adama, and present him with an offer that could make the Galactica commander realize that only by joining forces, could the Cylon Empire receive payback for the Destruction, and be brought to its knees by the combined strength of the Galactica and Baltar's basestar. The opportunity for Baltar's plan had come at Kobol. And there, Baltar saw his dream of revenge against the Cylons shattered for eternity when Adama had coldly rejected him. All in the name of his desire to seek out an ancient myth called the Planet Earth. Adama's rejection had burned a hatred of the man in Baltar's heart like no other hatred he had felt in his lifetime. To Baltar, Adama had denied him his last opportunity to be a human being again, and had for all intents and purposes forced him into becoming a committed Cylon. A fate that had angered Baltar inside for many sectans, as he resumed the chase of the Galactica following his rescue from the collapsed ruins of the Ninth Lord of Kobol's tomb. For he knew that he still needed to confront the fact that if he were successful in destroying Adama and his Fleet, there was nothing to stop the current Imperious Leader from deciding that like before, Baltar would have outlived his usefulness to the Cylon Empire. And there would be no stopping his execution this time. Baltar knew that subconsciously, that fear of eventual execution by the Cylons was why he had discreetly allowed Adama to slip out of his grasp at Arcta, three sectars ago. He had forced them to move forward in the direction of the Ravashol laser pulsar based on that ice planet, all the while suspecting that somehow, Adama's sense of ingenuity would find a way to get past that obstacle. And then, in the chaos caused when both the pulsar and the Cylon garrison of Command Centurion Vulpa was destroyed, thanks to the commando team Adama had sent to the surface, Baltar had quietly dropped back out of scanner range. Giving Adama the time he had needed to elude pursuit for the time being, and in the process buying time for Baltar. For all the facades of resignation and disgust he had put up to Lucifer following the destruction of the pulsar, he had been relieved inside. He could at least ponder further how he could avert his execution if he was successful in destroying Adama. Once he had resolved that question in his mind, he could at last strike with his pursuit force of three baseships with a clear conscience. In the last sectan, that question had finally been resolved. As soon as he realized that the Galactica was being pushed in the direction of the Cylon outer capital Gomorrah, at the edge of charted space, Baltar knew he could find a way of preventing any punitive action from being taken against him following a successful campaign. All he needed to do was take advantage of Gomorrah's proximity, and use it as a place where the population of Cylon civilians would be in awe of him, and be united in their belief that Baltar's accomplishment in destroying the last vestige of Colonial civilization would entitle him to a place of permanent power in the Cylon High Command. And their public awe would be something the Imperious Leader wouldn't dare ignore. Executing Baltar would become a political risk for the Leader that he could never afford. Yes, he had thought to himself over and over again. It could work. And he would make it work, through sheer determination. All he needed was to finally locate the Galactica and the Fleet again, and it would all be over. The last battle would be fought, he would make his mark as the victor, and within a day, he would have every Cylon on Gomorrah bowing down before him, which would insure his long-term survival. When he saw Lucifer enter the command center and approach his command throne (which he had installed after the novelty of having a duplicate of the Imperious Leader's high perch in an isolated chamber, had worn off for him), he was convinced that the news would be good, and the first phase of his plan could be put into effect. "By your command," the IL Cylon bowed. "Speak." The traitor kept his tone level. "Our scouts have located the trailing vessels of the Colonial Fleet." A faint smile formed on the corners of Baltar's lips. "They turned back before discovery, I presume?" "As you ordered," Lucifer nodded. "The scout commander reports that the Fleet shows signs of being so far strung out, that it would have been impossible for his group to have been detected by the Galactica or any other ship toward the front of the convoy." "Which means only one thing." Baltar broke into a grin that always managed to unnerve the IL Cylon whenever he saw it. "Adama is fast losing control of his ability to maintain order in that Fleet. And how fitting that it should come just at the time when at long last, I've finally overtaken Adama with enough strength to blow him out of the stars!" Lucifer refrained from commenting that this was not the first time Baltar had been in such a position. He had identical strength at the time he had forced the Galactica in the direction of Arcta, but Baltar's bizarre decisions to use up almost all of his fighter strength in an effort to press the Galactica further forward, coupled with his dropping back after the destruction of the laser pulsar had made victory impossible. It had always struck the IL as unusual behavior for one who openly spoke of his desire for revenge against Adama, but he had not dared reveal his suspicions to the Imperious Leader. He knew that the Leader had been viewing him with a skeptical and suspicious eye ever since the fallout resulting from events at Kobol, and so he had no choice but to keep silent and continue as Baltar's ostensibly loyal subordinate. The IL merely responded to Baltar's boast with the neutral observation, "It should be quite a good battle." Baltar's malicious grin widened. "It will be no battle at all. A single battlestar is no match for three baseships. Oh no," he rose from his throne chair and began to strut with the air of an absolute monarch. "What we have here, my dear Lucifer, is known as a rout. A humiliation. A massacre. A one-sided affair that will make the destruction of the rest of the Colonial Fleet at Cimtar seem like a tough battle by comparison." "I assume then, that you do not desire any assistance from support fighters based on Gomorrah, our outer capital?" Baltar had his back to Lucifer as he placed his hands on his hips, his air of malicious exuberance swelling to more massive proportions. So confident was he of success, that he could now feel comfortable boasting of the future, and letting Lucifer know in no uncertain terms what he envisioned for himself after the final destruction of humanity. "The only thing I want from Gomorrah is a welcoming parade." his voice oozed with malevolent triumph. "A victory celebration. A tribute from the people of Gomorrah for the greatest military leader Cylon has ever produced." What pathetic felgercarb, Lucifer thought to himself with disgust. "I have decided that the city of Gomorrah will be my seat of power." Baltar wasn't through. "From it, I will decide how and where I will extend my dominion, from there to the vast untapped reaches of uncharted space." The incredible thing is that he probably actually believes that, Lucifer's amazement increased. If so, then Baltar had now become a textbook example of what the humans called a megalomaniac. Such tendencies had existed in the previous Imperious Leader when he had skillfully plotted the destruction of the Colonies, but that had all been in the name of achieving a vision of total Cylon order. With Baltar it was for one thing only, and that was his own personal gain. But then again, Lucifer admitted, even he himself had known a glimmer of those feelings, as he recalled his failed plan at Kobol that he had hoped would perhaps one day elevate him to the ranks of those who might be considered to succeed the Imperious Leader some day. The more that Cylons chose to copy facets of human behavior in their upper levels of robot technology, the more they were apt to inherit those distasteful human tendencies that had made the Cylons go to war with humanity in the first place. "Begging your pardon, Baltar," he kept his tone as level as he could, "But don't you think we should go through the formality of conquering the humans before ordering our victory celebration?" Baltar turned back to face his second-in-command. The malevolent swagger had been replaced on his visage with bemusement. "That has the note of sarcasm, Lucifer," he warned gently. "Watch yourself. You are, after all, not the only IL series Cylon who dreams of standing beside the greatest conqueror in all the universe on the victory platform at Gomorrah. Remember, friend Spektor, who is still aboard this ship, could just as easily fill the same role even if he is an older model." Lucifer wished at that instant that he could have offered an angry retort. The only thing that kept him from viewing the scrap pile as a better fate than having to stand next to Baltar on a victory platform at Gomorrah, was the knowledge that Baltar was looking for any opportunity to elevate Spektor to a position of importance. The former commander of the Atilla garrison had been staying aboard Baltar's baseship ever since he had abandoned the planet (under circumstances that Lucifer still found highly suspicious), taking every occasion to stroke Baltar's ego, knowing that sooner or later the human traitor would reciprocate by finding something far more important for Spektor than Atilla had ever been. "Forgive my impudence," he bowed meekly, feeling half-resigned to his fate inside. "Accepted." Baltar said. "About that launch order-" the IL rose. "Yes, yes let's get on with it." Baltar then stopped as he felt a new idea pop into his head. One that he knew would remove any trace of doubt about his future fate. "Wait, I have an even better idea!" Oh no, Lucifer felt his circuits threaten to overload. "I will personally lead the strike force!" "You?" Lucifer didn't bother concealing his dubiousness. "Go into battle?" "Yes, yes," Baltar was so consumed by the brilliance of the idea, that he didn't even bother reproaching Lucifer for his reaction. "Think of the impression on the city of Gomorrah when they learn that I personally led the final assault on the humans. How long has it been in the annals of Cylon history that any baseship commander was so willing to undertake such a bold task?" "To my recollection, it has never been done before." Lucifer conceded. Inside, he already realized what the method of Baltar's seeming madness was. By placing himself at the front of the battle, directing all events, Baltar was insuring that the people of Gomorrah would indeed honor him, and not stand for any directive from the Imperious Leader that Baltar had now outlived his usefulness. It was enough to make Lucifer realize that he could never let himself underestimate Baltar's potential for brilliant thinking. "Prepare a fighter with your two best pilots," Baltar said with triumph. "I will meet them in the launch bay in fifteen centons. We will launch shortly thereafter. And inform the commanders of the other two baseships to begin launch preparations as well." "By your command." Lucifer bowed and departed. As soon as the IL Cylon had gone, Baltar turned away and felt the air of malevolent triumph come over him again. He had finally, in his own warped manner, fought all the way back from the ashes of the Destruction and stood on the threshold of fulfilling every dream he'd ever possessed in his lifetime. The instant Colonel Tigh had arrived on the Pegasus, he already saw his sense of dread expectations being borne out. Even though his shuttle pilot had communicated with the bridge about his pending arrival, there was no one in the landing bay waiting to meet him. Instead, the viper crews were all going about their business as though they were oblivious to his presence. The new commander of the Pegasus was forced to summon all manner of self-restraint to keep from exploding as he was forced to make his way to the bridge himself. He could half understand why the crew of the Pegasus would resent his presence, especially since he was an outsider being thrust into the position of command. What he could not understand was why Cain seemed to inspire such slavish devotion from his crew. Granted, Cain had deservedly earned a reputation for greatness over the yahrens through his many successful campaigns, but the bottom line for Tigh was that Cain had failed the Colonial nation at the one time when a commander of his skill was needed most. For more than the first time since the Juggernaut's return, he had found himself wondering what Cain's presence would have meant at the Battle of Cimtar when the rest of the Colonial Fleet had been wiped out in an instant. Is it just a case of this crew not understanding the magnitude of how horrific the Holocaust was when they weren't there either? He absently thought as he rode the turbo lift up. If that were true, then how could this crew ever begin to understand what it had been like for the Galactica and all the survivors these last six sectars? It was laughable for any of them to think that two yahrens in the Gomorrah quadrant somehow represented a greater endurance challenge than what the Galactica had been through. As Tigh stepped off the turbo lift and walked down the short corridor that led to the bridge, he knew that if he was to have any success whatsoever aboard the Pegasus, he needed to keep all of his feelings bottled up. Revealing the slightest trace of them would only make a bad situation worse. He just had to slough off all the hidden insults, the resentments and the lack of respect that he knew was going to come his way and just do the job he'd been asked to do. He shook his head in irony once again at how none of this matched the dream he had always had for yahrens about what his first day of a battlestar command would be like. Even though he had been relatively content as Adama's executive officer for twenty yahrens, he could never avoid wondering what the experience would be like, knowing that it represented the pinnacle dream of any warrior. But then again, why should he have been surprised that this manner of cosmic joke would befall him when it came to the matter of command? Only eight sectars ago, in the period just before the Destruction, he knew that he was on the verge of receiving the Galactica. Adama had taken him aside and told him that as soon as the Peace Treaty with the Cylons was signed and the war officially over, he planned to retire from the Colonial Service and recommend Tigh to succeed him as the Galactica's commander. But that promise only turned out to be one of the infinite number of future plans and dreams left in ruins following the night the Cylons attacked. Ever since, Tigh had resigned himself to the fact that he would never know the experience of command in his lifetime. Adama's sheer force of will would in all likelihood enable him to outlive Tigh by decades at the very least, and even if he didn't, the executive officer was certain that by then, it would be too late for him anyway. The Galactica would almost surely pass to a warrior from the next generation like Apollo. As the doors slid open, Tigh wondered why this burden had to be dropped in his lap when he'd already accepted the idea that he'd never experience command as he'd envisioned it. The last thing he needed was a living reminder of why it could never be as he'd hoped. His arrival finally prompted the first sign of reaction from the crew, as he saw a medium-height bridge officer with dark skin like his own, rise to his feet and approach him. "Colonel Tigh," he said evenly without a trace of warmth or coldness, "Welcome aboard. I'm Major Ham, senior bridge officer." "Major," Tigh politely nodded, matching his tone. "Is Colonel Tolen here?" "Not at this time sir. The Colonel ...." the first awkward hesitation crept into Ham's voice. "The ah, Colonel is completing supervision of the transfer of fuel into the portable storage tanks for distribution." "Excellent," Tigh said as he moved toward the stairs that led to the upper level. "The sooner we expedite that process, the better. How soon until the shuttles from the Galactica arrive to begin the transfer procedure?" "Fifteen centons, sir." Ham said as he stopped at the foot of the stairs. He then cast an awkward glance at Tigh before moving back to his station on the middle level. As Tigh reached the upper deck, he could now look down on the entire bridge. Every crewman on duty was at his or her station, performing their duties with what would have seemed like supreme efficiency to any outside observer. But to Tigh, he could also sense a double meaning in their quiet actions. By staying at their consoles and immersing themselves in their duties, they could also keep their backs perpetually turned to him. Lords of Kobol, Tigh found himself saying to himself despite his innate skepticism, how much longer do I have to experience this? Down in the landing bay, the Pegasus's executive officer was standing grim faced in front of all the senior pilots of Silver Spar Squadron, each of whom had a look of ruthless determination. "I sympathize with your objective," Tolen said calmly. "But I really don't see how it's going to help Commander Cain, let alone the entire situation." "Colonel," Sheba stepped forward. "We've been left with no choice. When those shuttle teams from the Galactica arrive, we have to draw a line in the sand and let them know that none of us intend to be bullied by incompetent leadership." "What exactly do you expect them to do?" Tolen folded his arms. "Do you really think for a micron that they're going to let you people act as a barrier to getting those fuel tanks?" "Perhaps not, sir," Lieutenant Banker spoke up. "But at the very least if they have to go through a messy process to get it, then the impact will end up resonating with the people and they'll demand that Cain be placed in overall command." "I see," Tolen nodded faintly, his arms still folded. "You are all aware of course that I could decide to settle the matter right here and now by summoning Colonial Security and having you all placed in the brig before the shuttle teams arrive." "Are you prepared to do that, Colonel?" Bojay delicately inquired, knowing all the while what the answer was going to be. Each of the pilots knew that Tolen was anything but a take charge kind of person like Cain. His passive, reserved personality had been all Cain ever needed in an executive officer, and Tolen had long ago accepted that, never showing any desire to show any of the instincts that might be needed if he were ever called on to command himself. And all of the warriors present knew that the last thing Tolen wanted was the responsibility such a decision would entail. Tolen flushed slightly, knowing that Bojay had in effect called his bluff and had left him powerless to argue the matter further. The executive officer bit his lip and then spoke calmly. "I can not support your decision." He said. "Whatever happens to you, is your responsibility. And I want it understood that you have done this without any support or encouragement from me." "Don't worry, Colonel." Lieutenant Angus said. "We won't tell a soul that we ever talked to you about this. The responsibility is all ours." Tolen turned away and headed toward the turbo lift. He then stopped and turned back as though he wanted to say something else, but then seemed to think better of it and moved on. All of the warriors knew that he had wanted to say something on the order of how deep down, he believed in what they were doing. But Tolen's cautious nature couldn't let him do anything like that. He needed to protect his own interests for now. "Too bad," Lieutenant Paris said. "We could have used his help." "It was a longshot," Sheba exhaled, letting herself have an emotional breather before the big moment of confrontation came. "Tolen's......well, you know how he is." The rest of them nodded. Had any of them felt that Tolen possessed sound command instincts, they all knew that they could have pursued a less risky option of demanding that Tolen be placed in command of the Pegasus instead of an outsider from the Galactica. But all of them knew that ultimately, having Tolen in command of the Pegasus would only result in the same misguided policy of acquiescence to Adama that they'd get from Colonel Tigh. "Five centons before they arrive." Sheba checked her chronometer. "Let's get ready." "I'm glad you've arrived, Colonel," Tigh said calmly as he saw the executive officer step onto the upper level. "Major Ham says you've been expediting the fuel transfer process for the shuttles." "Yes sir," Tolen said quietly as he settled into his seat in front of his console. As soon as he placed his headset on, an incoming communication came through. "Captain Apollo of the Galactica shuttle, requesting permission to land aboard the Pegasus." "You're cleared to land, Captain." Tolen's tone remained quiet. He then looked up at Tigh. "The fueling shuttles are starting to come aboard." "Very well," Tigh said. "Inform them that the distribution operation will begin immediately. They have their checklist for which ships need the fuel supplies most." Tolen calmly took a breath, feeling that somehow he had to play what he felt was the only chance he had to avert the potential crisis he knew was looming in the landing bay. "Colonel," he said gently without turning around to face Tigh. "There's...... bad feeling festering aboard this ship. My recommendation is that it might be a good idea to delay implementing this order until things have settled down and......tempers had a chance to cool off." Tigh frowned as though he'd heard the words of someone who knew something he didn't. He decided not to press the executive officer about that for now, though. Not when speed was of the essence. "Commander Adama's orders are to have the Fleet underway within a centar's notice. We can't do that until the ships that need fuel most, get it now. That means there can be no delay, and the transfer will proceed immediately." The executive officer felt as though he were going to be sick. He could feel the sweaty heat breaking out on his forehead and he had to exhale twice to try and get the sick sensation to dissipate. "Very well, sir," he managed to keep his voice normal as he adjusted his headset and passed on the word to Apollo. "You guys ready?" Apollo turned to Boomer and Jolly as they prepared to step off the shuttle. "Yep," Boomer said with resignation. "We carry aboard all the porto-tanks we can manage and then proceed to the ships at the rear guard of the Fleet." "Be prepared for some dirty looks and snide remarks," Apollo cautioned. "Whatever happens, ignore them. The last thing any of us are going to do is rub salt into the wound by getting into a fight with them." "Don't worry, Apollo," Jolly said. "My mouth is sealed shut." "Now if only we can get you to do that during your meal cycles, Jolly," Boomer patted his friend's stomach and then stepped off the shuttle before the corpulent warrior could let out a comeback Apollo walked toward the end of the landing bay where he'd been told by Colonel Tolen that the portable fuel tanks had been moved out into position. He then stopped, when he saw the warriors of Silver Spar group, with Sheba and Bojay at the front of the line, standing in front of the compartment doorway. Behind them, stood Skyler, Angus, Banker and Paris. Oh no, Apollo felt a sense of dread go through his body. Don't tell me it's going to be worse than I thought it could be. He let none of that dread show, as he came to a stop in front of the Pegasus pilots. "Can we be of some help, Apollo?" Sheba's tone was amazingly nonchalant, but her bearing and posture was rigid and unyielding, with her hands clasped tightly behind her back. "Not unless you want to assist in the transfer of fuel." Apollo said. "Oh?" Bojay didn't conceal the sarcasm in his voice. "What transfer is that?" Apollo felt his patience evaporate in an instant, as he now remembered why he'd never thought highly of Bojay during the latter's tour aboard the Galactica. "Look," he said testily, "We have a job to do, so all of you stand aside and let us do it." But as soon as the words were out, the Pegasus warriors all took one step forward, blocking Apollo's path to the next compartment. "Just what in Hades do you think you're doing?" the black-haired captain waved his arms in exasperation. "We're fighting for our commander, Captain," Skyler said acidly. "Not to mention our lives, and the lives of everyone else in this Fleet being put at risk thanks to incompetent decision making." "Look," Apollo struggled to find some measure of diplomatic tact. "Commander Cain has accepted the order, so why don't you show the same good sense?" "Good sense, Captain?" Angus mockingly laughed. "What kind of good sense is it, when you decide that 70,000 lives have to rely on the forlorn hope that miracle of miracles, another planet is going to emerge in a sectan's time with all the fuel to solve all your problems? That isn't good sense when there's a depot the size of Gomorrah waiting to be picked clean, that's lunacy." Boomer found it miraculous that Apollo wasn't blowing sky high. He wanted to issue some retorts of his own, but for the moment he had to let Apollo stay in charge of the situation. "Look," Apollo tried again. "I know there's a lot of bad feeling going around, but you all have to understand-----" "Understand what?" Sheba coldly interrupted. "It's obvious that you're the one who doesn't understand the situation. Adama humiliated the greatest man that ever lived. A man that can think and fight circles around your father." Apollo calmly exhaled. Tempted as he was, the last thing he was going to do was put down Sheba for being blindly loyal to her own father, who she idolized in the same way that he idolized Adama. Even now, there was one small part of him that had to admire her for showing such loyalty to a loved one, and even he wasn't 100 percent sure that he would have reacted differently if he'd been in her position. "She's right, Apollo," Bojay interjected. "Why do you think I wanted to get off the Galactica in the first place? Because I knew that aboard this ship, I'd finally get to serve under a commander who wasn't afraid of taking risks. And it's because of Cain that all of us were saved two yahrens ago from certain death, so now it's our turn to help him!" Boomer had finally reached his own breaking point. "Oh, so Cain's a great risk taker is he?" He stepped forward and said angrily. "Then why in Hades wasn't he taking the risk of trying to get back to the Colonies before the Cylons decided to wipe out the rest of the Fleet and fifteen billion people on all the twelve worlds? Some risk taker! Living off the fat of the land in this quadrant for two yahrens while the rest of us had to watch the Colonies burn!" "That's enough, Boomer!" Apollo grabbed him by the arm, and pushed him back before any of the Pegasus warriors had a chance to move toward him and start throwing punches. "Enough!" "Apollo, it's time they get a taste of their own medicine----" Boomer was still seething. "Shut up!" Apollo shouted. "Do you hear me? Shut up!" He then forced himself to turn back to the Pegasus warriors. The muscles were all throbbing visibly in the faces and necks of each of them, now that they'd heard the one potential sore subject with all of them dragged out into the open. "I apologize for the Lieutenant's remarks," Apollo said, struggling to get his voice back to a level of diplomatic calm. "They were uncalled for. Believe me, no one wants to see Cain humiliated or disgraced." "It's a little too late for that now, isn't it, Captain?" Sheba snapped back. "I think Lieutenant Boomer has hit the nail on the head when it comes to what's been motivating the rest of you. All of you thinking that somehow, my father has to be held accountable for the fact that the Colonial Nation got their astrums kicked for all time six sectars ago." "That isn't it!" Apollo said, trying to put all the sincerity he could into his tone. "What happened was a simple matter of enforcing the normal rules of the Command structure. When Commander Cain chose to defy an order, that left Adama with no choice. For better or worse, there can only be one leader of our people." "That's right, Apollo." Skyler said. "And we've got the wrong one. Maybe Cain wasn't able to do the impossible of getting through six or seven basestars lined up between here and the Colonies, but at least he wasn't like Adama, sitting passively on the Council and not raising his voice in protest when Adar signed the damned treaty that caused the Destruction!" "Damn right," this from Angus, who fixed his gaze on Boomer, "Don't give any of us a lecture on which leader was a greater profile in courage when it came to trying to prevent the Destruction. I think Cain's record speaks for itself." "And it's a disgrace that a stupid arcane rule that says graduating from the Academy sooner means you're senior to those of equal rank, means the people can't have the kind of leadership they need." Bojay added. "That's why you're not taking this fuel we worked hard to get, and condemn this Fleet to certain death when it runs out again in a sectan and there's no new source to haul your astrums out of the fire." Apollo decided the time had come to stop being diplomatic. "I'm going to say this only once." he seethed. "Adama is the Fleet Commander, and the President of the Council, and he's determined that we don't send all our means of defense off to some Cylon capital while our Fleet sits here totally helpless!" he angrily pointed down at the ground to emphasize his point. "Now I happen to support that line of thinking----" "Naturally," Sheba coldly interrupted. "Blood is thick, isn't it, Apollo?" "For some, more so than others, Sheba." Apollo decided that he couldn't hold back any longer on that point, but then stopped himself from carrying the thought any further. "Now all of you, stand aside!" None of the Pegasus warriors moved. Finally, Apollo motioned to both Boomer and Jolly. The three Galactica warriors, all with expressions of anger and contempt, all pulled out their laser pistols, and trained them on the wall of Pegasus warriors. "Well now," Boomer found himself smirking, "What's it going to be? Do you let us pass, or do we decide to put you all to sleep for a few centars before we do our job?" The level of hatred in each of Silver Spar's members seemed to increase in their expressions. "So that's how the great and all-knowing Adama enforces his will, right Captain?" Skyler said mockingly. "Opening fire on fellow warriors, whose only crime was their desire to save the people of the Fleet from a bad leader and his self-righteous, arrogant underlings." "When it comes to talking about self-righteous, arrogant underlings, I've got one thing to say," Jolly spoke for the first time as he trained his pistol on the group. "Physician, heal thyself." For ten microns there was only silence, as two unyielding forces of will in opposition to each other refused to give. Finally, Sheba gave Apollo a faint, mocking smile. "Go ahead, Apollo," she said. "Open fire, and then when the news of this gets out, we'll see what the people think about how Commander Adama runs things. And when they find out that he wasn't willing to take a chance on solving their fuel problem for the next few yahrens, I don't think they're going to be breaking down the walls to thank him." Apollo's jaw locked as he tightened his grip on his laser. "What's the matter, Captain?" Bojay taunted. "Losing your nerve?" Boomer was about to issue another retort, when suddenly the landing bay was bathed in red and the sound of the alert klaxon wailed. "Great!" Apollo said with a mixture of satisfaction and disgust. "This is exactly what Adama was afraid of. We're under attack! Boomer, Jolly let's get back to the Galactica." As they started to move off, and the Pegasus warriors began to scatter as well, Sheba decided she had to get in the last word. "It doesn't change anything, Apollo! If we'd attacked Gomorrah the other day like we should have, we'd have been out of here before this attack!" Apollo shook his head in amazement as he stepped into the shuttle. Full of stubborn pride and determination right to the very end. Qualities that made her seemingly impossible to communicate with. Yet at the same time, those qualities were going to insure her own survival in the next battle, and he had to find himself hoping that every other pilot had the same kind of attitude if they were going to get through this. Once again, the never-ending contradictions of Lieutenant Sheba had managed to bring out both awed admiration and frustrated anger in Apollo. The shuttle door closed and the craft began its hasty departure from the Pegasus. As soon as Cain heard the klaxon sound throughout the Galactica, he wasted no time bolting from his lonely isolation in the VIP quarters where he'd been brooding for centars. When he reached the bridge, he was half out of breath from his sprint through the corridors. "What's happening?" he asked Adama with concern. Adama looked up from the scanner, his expression grim. "They're throwing the largest taskforce at us that I've seen since the destruction of the Colonies." "400 microns and closing." Omega called out. "Any exact figuring of what their strength is?" The Juggernaut looked down at the scanner where he saw a massive number of triangular blips moving from the left side, the ominous words CONDITION RED flashing in the middle of the screen. "Judging from the size of that phalanx of attack fighters," Adama looked back at the scanner. "They have as many as three baseships closing in on us." Cain looked Adama in the eye. "Adama, I stand properly humbled. You were right, I was wrong. The Fleet would have been defenseless if we'd gone to attack their base now." Adama took only a half micron to realize that the Juggernaut had allowed himself one little qualifier that an earlier attack on Gomorrah was another thing entirely from an attack launched today. He then let it quickly pass. "Cain, that doesn't matter any longer. Right now, I need your tactical wizardry to help us through this situation." he looked back at the scanner. "They didn't use more than three baseships worth of fighters when they destroyed the entire Colonial Combined Fleet, six sectars ago. Clearly they feel they have more than sufficient numbers to handle the job now." "Yes," Cain nodded, "But from what I've read of the battle, they had surprise on their side in every sense of the word. Dropping out of nowhere and catching the rest of the Fleet off guard like stuck animals in the mire. But I think this time Adama, we can use that element of surprise to our advantage." Adama looked up and instantly caught on. "Pull out the Pegasus." "Yes," Cain nodded. "It's on the far side of the Fleet so I don't think it's been detected yet on their scanners. And I can't imagine that they would have launched this attack if they realized that they'd be up against two battlestars for this engagement. I can bring her around and drop in on the attack force's rear flank so they won't realize what hit them." He paused. "If of course, you believe that I----" "You're restored to command, effective immediately." Adama didn't skip a beat. "How soon can you have her in position?" Cain had already begun to walk down the steps that led to the bridge exit. "Well, if you don't mind my burning up all that reserve fuel of mine, I can get the old girl up to light speed and then drop in about fifteen centons from now." Adama found himself half-smiling. "Do I have a choice?" The Juggernaut turned around and returned it. "No." "Just be there!" "I won't let you down!" He waved back with confidence and picked up his pace, as he passed through the companionway. As Cain left, Adama shook his head at the irony of how he'd enjoyed the last centon, plotting things out with Cain in total agreement just like they had so long ago aboard the Cerberus, at the same time that the Galactica would soon be in for the worst attack it had faced since the Destruction. "Enemy fighters, 300 microns and closing," Omega called out again. Adama moved over to the railing so he could look down at the bridge officers. "Omega, bring all batteries into fire ready position. Launch all squadrons immediately to intercept. Athena," he turned to his daughter, "Have all interior compartments sealed immediately, then notify Colonel Tigh aboard the Pegasus and tell him that Commander Cain is resuming command. He's to stay aboard her bridge though, until the battle is over." If any human had seen Baltar at that particular moment, their first instinct would have been to laugh at the sight of the traitor. He had chosen to wear a black flight uniform and a Cylon style helmet, believing that it would further underscore his devotion to the cause when he presented himself to the adulation he expected to see on Gomorrah once the battle was over, and also because he thought it made him cut a menacing and imposing figure. The helmet though, fit awkwardly, concealing his forehead and cheeks and producing an effect that most humans would have found comical. It had already seemed that way to Lucifer when the IL Cylon had chosen to see Baltar off in the launch bay. The instant Lucifer's eyes caught sight of Baltar in his helmet and flight uniform, his first instinct was to thank Fate that involuntary laughter was not a part of IL series programming. As Baltar sat in the command position of the lead Cylon raider of the attack phalanx, he could see the form of the Galactica drawing closer through the forward windows. And with it, the rising certainty that this day would at long last bring him everything he had ever hoped for in his life. "Arm weapons. Stand by to attack." The command pilot on the left side of the cockpit radioed to the rest of the fighters in the phalanx. Already, Baltar was smiling. "This is going to be a classic defeat," he said aloud, "Spoken of throughout the galaxy for the next thousand yahrens. The final end of Colonial civilization." The only reaction in the single-brain minds of the pilots was that Baltar's words neatly tapped into their instinctive desire to see humanity destroyed and the vision of Cylon order imposed. That was exactly what the traitor was hoping for, since if they were ultimately impressed by what he said, then so too would the population of Gomorrah. And all of them would in turn be willing to give their undivided loyalty and adulation to him for having made it all possible, whereas others had not been able to do so up to this point. "250 microns and closing." The co-pilot reported. "Blue and Red Squadrons launched, Commander. Heading to intercept attacking phalanx." Athena was keeping herself completely professional and unemotional for now. Inside though, Adama's daughter was cursing herself for not having kept up with her routine flight exercises for the last three sectars, which left her ineligible for reserve flight duty. She knew that she had risen to the occasion when pilots were needed at the Battle of Kobol and could easily have stayed on in Blue Squadron after all of the other pilots had recovered from that mysterious illness Boomer and Jolly had brought back. But once Blue Squadron's regular group was back at full strength, Athena had found herself intimidated in the presence of so many pilots that she knew had better skills than her, and so she had decided to go back to Bridge duty full-time. At least on the Bridge, the crew members tended to look up to her and she could be more of a leader and instructor than a follower, which she knew would be her lot as a full-time viper pilot. What she never liked to admit to herself though, was that another reason why she didn't want to stay attached to Blue Squadron was because she no longer found herself wanting to spend too much time around Starbuck in a working environment. In the last few sectars it had grown increasingly clear to Athena that Starbuck was gravitating more and more toward Cassiopeia, and that had made her begin to inwardly despise her onetime boyfriend for having put their relationship behind, once and for all. From Athena's standpoint, she hadn't been to blame for the break-up simply because she hadn't been ready to talk about commitment at the worst time of her life and Starbuck should have been patient and given her some time. Instead he had focused in on the next girl that crossed his path, in the form of Cassiopeia. Athena had heard Apollo mention subtly the previous night that Starbuck and Cassiopeia might no longer be an item since Cassiopeia, it seemed, had once had a relationship with Commander Cain and she might end up going back to him. But that news hadn't made Athena develop any new sudden hope that Starbuck would soon be hers again, as she had so desperately wanted it to be the case, once she'd put her initial grief for her mother and Zac behind her. Only if Starbuck came back and was willing to talk to her, and above all admit his own fault for what had happened, would she think a new relationship possible. She had no intention of making any first moves on the blonde lieutenant at any time in the near future. Now, as she watched the vipers launch on her monitor, she lightly banged her fist against the console in frustration, wishing that she could have been ready to go out and provide help during the battle. There's another reason for me to be mad at you, Starbuck, she thought bitterly. Thanks to you, you've got me wanting to avoid viper training exercises, so that means I can't pitch in when it counts. Thanks a lot. "Is Commander Cain's viper away?" Her father's voice brought her back to reality. "Yes sir," she nodded, her voice conveying nothing about what had just passed through her mind. "Colonel Tigh has been notified. The Commander should reach the Pegasus in two centons flight time." "Good," Adama nodded and moved over to Omega, "Range?" "200 microns and closing. First wave is clearly intended to hit the Galactica. No sign yet of any diverting attack groups aimed at the civilian ships." "That's actually good news for now," Adama put his hand to his chin. "That means they can't pick up the Pegasus before she moves out to make her surprise move. All damage and fire control teams standing by?" "Yes sir, Chief Jorda reports the Boraton Mist Control Center is ready." "Let's pray we don't need to use them too much." When Tigh received the communique from Athena over the com-line Alpha frequency, he almost felt a strange sense of relief come over him at learning that Commander Cain had been restored to command. Not only would it mean the end of what had fast become a nightmare experience for Tigh after barely one centar on the Pegasus's bridge, it also meant he didn't have to find himself thrust with the immediate burden of a combat command responsibility. The nasty looks and indifference he had received from every crew member aboard the Pegasus since his arrival had badly shaken his sense of confidence, and his old belief that in an emergency, he would be capable of rising to the occasion. What he needed to do was have the burden taken off his shoulders quickly so he could get that inner confidence back for when it would really be needed during some potential future emergency aboard the Galactica. As he saw the readout on the scanner though, he knew he had to contemplate the possibility that there might not ever be a future emergency aboard the Galactica if things didn't go right. "Colonel," Tolen looked up. "Incoming communique from Commander Cain." "Put it on," there was an edge of resignation in Tigh's voice. Tolen calmly took a breath and then deliberately flicked a switch that would let every member of the battlestar's bridge hear what was about to be said. "Colonel Tigh, this is Cain. I'm resuming command of the Pegasus." Abruptly, all other activity on the bridge came to a brief halt as every technician and crewman heard the words through their own headsets and intercoms. Tigh noticed it immediately and realized what the Pegasus executive officer had done. He had to hold back a good deal of anger inside as he made his reply. "Yes, I've been informed by Commander Adama." "Good." the Juggernaut replied. "Now here are your orders. Get that ship out of there now. Swing her around at 180 at full speed on new course one-one-oh. I'll rendezvous with you as soon as you're in position." Tigh frowned slightly. "Sir, what about the attack force?" "Just make sure all squadrons are at launch ready, but do not launch any fighters for now. You leave that to me once I'm back aboard." He paused. "That is the strategy Adama and I have agreed on, Colonel." "Very well," Tigh nodded. "Will await your arrival." "Be aboard in five centons." As soon as the transmission ended, more than a dozen members of the bridge crew let out loud whoops and cheers. Inside, Tigh felt like the member of a triad team that had just lost a match by the most lopsided margin imaginable. He couldn't ever recall a time in his life where he felt his own ego and pride as a warrior at this kind of a low. He finally managed to look at Tolen. The Pegasus executive officer, who he knew had set him up for this humiliation by having Cain's transmission played for all to hear, was grinning sheepishly. "Colonel," he said with an attempt at sincerity. "It's nothing personal against you as a warrior. It's just that----" "Oh I quite, understand, Colonel," Tigh put just a hint of acid into his tone. "After all, who can fight a living legend? Not me." he then paused for a half-micron. "And I guess, not you either, right?" There was a slight flinch from Tolen, that made Tigh feel just a little bit of satisfaction that he'd been able to score a minor victory of his own. At least he knew that he wouldn't end his career as an uninspiring yes-man, which was the only thing he could ever see happening to Tolen if this was an indicator of how Tolen normally was. "Well Colonel, you heard the Commander's orders," Tigh decided to take advantage of his last opportunity to give an order on the Pegasus's bridge. "Bring us around to new heading at maximum speed." "Yes sir," the professionalism was back in Tolen's voice as he carried out the order. Tigh then moved over to the railing and looked down, where he could see some of the crewmen still happily joshing with one another in response to the news. "I don't think Commander Cain wants to see you men anywhere but at your positions during Battle Stations, am I right?" He barked. Invoking the Juggernaut's name did the trick. In an instant, all of them were back in their chairs and all the idle conversation ceased with the abruptness of a light switch being turned off. As the red glow of the alert filled the bridge, and the battlestar picked up speed, Tigh moved back to the center of the upper level, and once again marveled at the devotion that Cain had inspired in his crew. Yes, he thought again. Who indeed can fight a living legend? "One hundred microns," the co-pilot intoned as the lead Cylon fighter drew nearer and nearer to the Galactica. Baltar now began to feel a sensation of giddiness developing inside him as the battlestar now filled his entire field of vision. "Goodbye Galactica," he said aloud, solely for his own benefit. "Goodbye at last, Adama, my dear old friend." And then, he silently expressed a thought he knew he couldn't ever allow himself to utter in the presence of any Cylon. You had your chance at Kobol, Adama. You could have gone with me and brought the Cylon Empire to it's knees and avenged the Colonies. And now, you will pay the ultimate price for your rejection. "Eighty microns." "Seventy microns and closing." Omega could feel his right hand clutching the side of his chair, the only visible sign of the inner tension he felt. "Red and Blue Squadrons report fighter level too thick for them to contain. Estimate at least fifteen to twenty ships will make it through the perimeter and have a clear run at the Galactica." "Positive shield, now." Adama said calmly as he stood by Omega's console. "All compartments sealed?" "All sealed. We're shut tight." "All batteries commence fire!" "This is Red Leader to Red Group," the voice of Captain Taggs, Red Squadron's leader intoned. "Estimate at least sixteen fighters got through our front line. All members of Red Group will pursue immediately and destroy." He paused. "Apollo, you and Blue Group keep watching our rear flank, okay?" "Copy, Red Leader. Standing by to head off the next attack waves. Will let you know how many from the next phalanx get through." Apollo acknowledged as he moved into lead formation of Blue Squadron, and wondered, not for the first time, about how his counterpart in Red Squadron was going to fare in the engagement. This was Taggs's first test as a squadron leader since his promotion to succeed the late Captain Killian, who had been killed in action at Arcta by the Ravashol pulsar. Apollo had at first wondered why his father had given the squadron to Taggs, since he felt that one of the veterans of his own group like Boomer had more than earned the right to be considered for promotion to squadron commander. In the end, it had come down more to a matter of squadron pride insisting that the post go to Taggs. Unlike Blue Squadron, which was made up entirely of pilots who had served aboard the Galactica since before the Holocaust, Red Squadron was chiefly comprised of pilots from the Battlestar Columbia, the only other battlestar that had been able to launch fighters during the Battle of Cimtar. Part of the reason why they had been able to easily adjust to a new life aboard the Galactica was because one of their own, Killian, had continued to lead them. His death at Arcta had so crippled their own sense of morale, that in the end, Adama felt it was imperative to let one of their own take charge of their ranks again. That was why Taggs, the senior most surviving Columbia officer left, had gotten the job, even though his flight record was nowhere near as distinguished as that of Boomer, or other potential candidates from Blue Squadron. Apollo had a few misgivings about Taggs's appointment, since his own sense of the man was that he was a good pilot who responded well when others gave orders to him, but whether he could demonstrate the extra skills required of a commander, was not clear enough to him. But he also understood that his father couldn't allow any creation of ill will between squadrons if he didn't appoint a Columbia pilot, and so he chose not to express his misgivings to Adama. He only hoped now that this battle wasn't going to leave him with any regrets over that. "Apollo," Starbuck radioed. "Phalanx two approaching. Contact in ten microns from now." "Four viper cluster groups, intercept along the perimeter moving from left to right." Apollo replied. "Let's head them off." Apollo, Starbuck, Boomer and Jolly peeled off into the first cluster to handle the far left side of the next phalanx. They were followed by the second cluster, consisting of Greenbean, Giles, Brie and Dietra which took care of the next group along the phalanx wall. After the first exchange of fire, which saw Blue Squadron take out seventeen Cylons with no losses, they saw the second attack wave break off and scatter. "Apollo, it looks like this wave's targets are the civilian ships." Starbuck noted grimly. "We've got to follow them and give them some protection." "Their third attack wave will be here in about five centons," Apollo gritted his teeth, wondering when the extra help from the Pegasus would arrive. Right now, he wanted to see the pilots of Silver Spar, especially those of Sheba and Bojay, flying alongside him more than ever. "If we don't get some more fighters in here by then, there'll be no one to head them off." He sighed. "But we've got to take that chance. Blue Squadron, pursue second wave and head for the Main Fleet." As he hit his turbo, he wondered how Red Group was handling with the fighters that were now descending on the Galactica. "This time, the Galactica hasn't a chance." Baltar said as he watched five Cylon fighters descend on the battlestar and open fire along the warship's top. All of them were able to get their shots in and escape being hit by the Galactica's laser turrets. Then, Baltar felt his own craft descend for a strafing run of its own. Like the previous five, they were able to score some damaging hits along the top third of the Galactica and avoid return fire. "One squadron of vipers now pursuing us." The command pilot reported. "Inform all pilots of this attack phalanx to ignore them and maintain fire on the Galactica," Baltar said, enjoying the opportunity to implement tactical maneuvers on the spur of the moment. "Tell them to concentrate on the Galactica's landing bays. Take them out now, and her warriors won't be able to refuel, reload or land." he paused. "And at any sign of pursuit, inform them to assume suicide mode." "By your command." "Captain, I'm tracking two heading for Alpha Bay. Potential suicide run!" Corporal Cree of Red Squadron warned. "I copy," Taggs took a breath as he increased power to his turbo. "I'll try to take care of them both. Cree, Barton, you watch out for any aimed at the bridge." "Captain, I think maybe we should follow you and deal with the known danger." Barton spoke up. "We shouldn't take any chances with fighters headed for the landing bay!" "I can handle them Sergeant!" Red Leader's voice grew cold. "Now you do as I say, and assume protective screen around the bridge!" "Yes sir," Barton sighed as he flew away and wished, not for the first time, that his old leader, Captain Killian, was still around. Killian had been a god to the pilots of Red Squadron. The one man whose force of will had been able to hold them together after the trauma of seeing their own battlestar destroyed at Cimtar, and maintain a sense of unity and pride amongst them. His abrupt death at Arcta had devastated them completely, and while Taggs had always been good at making the right speeches about how they needed to keep sticking together as veterans of the Columbia, and had matched Killian in terms of rhetorical inspiration, this was the first time Taggs was testing himself as a leader in battle and Barton now had to wonder if Taggs would ever really be more than just an echo of what Killian had meant to them. Taggs came up behind the two Cylons headed for the starboard landing bay. Of more immediate concern to him was the one approaching on a straight-on heading, since that had the potential to inflict the most crippling damage. He meticulously sized up the fighter on his attack computer, and with one shot managed to destroy it. As Taggs adjusted his viper to size up the second Cylon, he suddenly felt his blood chill when he realized that he'd made an awful miscalculation. The second fighter had been aimed at the landing bay on an angle, not offering the potential for as much damage as a straight on shot, but he had failed to realize that sizing it up from behind would not be as easy as sizing up the first one had. And he was fast running out of time. Red Leader made several frantic adjustments to his heading, but as he saw the Cylons fighter approaching the landing bay on a low angle toward the left corner, he realized he had blown it. He should have had Barton or Cree stay behind to help take it out, and failing that, he should have then gone for this Cylon first, since the straight-on craft would have still offered an easier target even if he had not taken care of it first. Not wanting to see what was now a foregone conclusion, Taggs pulled up and headed back to where the rest of Red Squadron was. When the Cylon fighter hit the Galactica's landing bay, his back was to the scene. "Turret batteries only scoring 20% hits on the incoming Cylons." Omega's tone had now taken an air of grimness. "And Red Squadron is having trouble with the rest of them. They're clearly flying with a lot more than their usual lack of general skill." "Definitely," Adama grimaced. He then felt a rumble go through his feet, the result of an explosion from somewhere else on the battlestar. When he looked back at one of the monitors on Omega's console, he knew right away where the explosion had occurred. "Fire in the bay." Omega's edge of grimness increased. "Damage report?" he quietly demanded. Omega pressed the earpiece tightly to listen to the report from the Galactica's fire control chief. "Jorda says it's out of control in Alpha bay. He's had to seal off the compartments adjacent to keep it from spreading. They'll need at least ten centons before they dare try to attack it. For now, they just have to keep the bay cut off." Adama moved back to his own console and activated the com-line Alpha channel. An instant later, he saw Tigh's face on the screen. "Is Commander Cain aboard, Colonel?" "His viper landed a centon ago, Commander." Tigh sounded more at peace with himself now that the burden of a command he never wanted was now off his shoulder. "He should be on the bridge any micron now." "Tell him we can use that help as soon as possible," Adama injected the faintest edge of urgency in his tone. "We've just lost our starboard bay for now, and the way the Cylons have fighting up to now, I don't want to have to handle another five or ten centons of this alone." "I'll let him know that," Tigh nodded fervently. "Just hang in there for now, Commander." The screen went dark and Adama quickly moved back over to Omega's station. After one more strafing run, Baltar's fighter had quickly retreated away from the pursuit of Red Squadron's vipers, and was now halfway between the first attack wave concentrated on the Galactica, and the second wave which was now focused on the civilian ships of the Fleet. "Third attack wave has arrived." The command pilot said. "Excellent," Baltar grinned. "Inform them that their responsibility is to lure the vipers protecting the civilian ships and the Galactica away from the Main Fleet. Force them to engage with full battle thrusters. That way they can't stay aloft too long and will soon start worrying about their fuel situation." "A word of caution," the command pilot noted. "We too are expending great amounts of fuel in the sustained attack. Within another fifteen centons, we will be below fifty percent capacity." "Yes, but so will they, and the difference is that by that time they won't have a place left to land, and we will," Baltar almost cackled in delight. "And then, they will lose their will, and their ability to protect the rest of the civilian ships will be gone completely." "Frack, here comes the third wave, headed straight for us!" Starbuck gritted his teeth as he tried to keep track of the situation on his scanner, while simultaneously keeping his eye on Cylon fighters headed for the civilian ships. "They mean to draw us away in sustained dogfights." Apollo said as he quickly destroyed one fighter bearing down on the passenger freighter Antares. "Don't let them do that. We're capable of fighting them at a two to one disadvantage, so let them pick the fight right here!" "That means putting these civilian ships at greater risk if they have to watch all this fighting going around them, Apollo!" Boomer warned. "I know, but if we let them lead us away, then that means the second wave has open target practice on these ships. Stay right here in this sector." "Apollo, do you think maybe some of us should detach and hook up with Red Group?" This from Jolly. "It doesn't look like the Galactica's faring too well." Apollo glanced over his shoulder, and in the distance he could already see the telltale signs of fires erupting from the battlestar, indicating serious damage. "Frack," Apollo gritted his teeth, wondering what in Hades was going on with Taggs and why Red Group wasn't doing as well as they should have been. It already seemed like his worst fear was being confirmed about Taggs's leadership skills. "Apollo?" Starbuck radioed. "Where in Hades is that help? We need those Pegasus fighters out here, and fast!" "I know," Apollo nodded. "We need them." Tigh gripped the railing as he felt the Pegasus come out of it's brief light speed jaunt, and then looked down just in time to see Cain enter the bridge and ascend the stairs two at a time to the upper level. "Commander," Tigh kept his tone deferential. "We're out of light speed now, assuming parallel course to the second and third Cylon phalanxes. No indication that they're aware of our presence yet." "They shouldn't be if we've stayed parallel." The Juggernaut had all the natural authority back in his tone as he moved over to Tolen's console. "The fighters concentrating on the Fleet will just think we're the Galactica, and the fighters attacking her won't have a high enough scan beam to notice us." he glanced back at Tigh, "How's the Galactica faring?" "She reports heavy damage to both her landing bays. Also, moderate damage to the bridge, but thankfully no direct hits there as of yet." He paused briefly, "Commander, I think we should----" "Yes, yes," Cain waved his swagger stick at Tigh, while keeping his attention on Tolen's console. "Now is the time indeed, Colonel. Tolen, bring us around sixty degrees." a faint smile then formed on the corners of his lips. "We're going in. Stand by to launch all fighters on my signal and stand by with all turret batteries." "Batteries armed and ready." Tolen said. As Tigh felt the battlestar move into a new attack position, he felt another wave of disgust go through him again as he saw the expression on Cain's face. The Juggernaut was now back in his natural environment, and clearly enjoying every micron of it. "Move us back in on the Galactica," Baltar felt his sense of inner delight rising further. "Tell phalanx one to engage in more attack passes at her, and have detachments from the other two phalanxes replenish her numbers." As the fighter moved back in the direction of the Galactica, Baltar could see the battlestar come into view again, and was just in time to see two fighters score hits again before the increasingly disoriented vipers of Red Squadron managed to dispose of them. But not before two more plumes of flame erupted from the side of the battlestar. "Burn Galactica," the traitor's sense of malevolent joy was now at the point where it could only go higher once the battlestar finally gave up the ghost and exploded. "You're finished, Adama! Finished! That dream of chasing across the stars for a mythical planet has come to this! And you have finally been beaten by a superior leader!" There was indifferent reaction to Baltar's boastful swagger from the two centurion pilots. It was simply not in their programming to feel any emotion one way or the other about whatever Baltar might say. All that mattered to them was hearing instructions that would enable them to carry out the task of destroying humanity, and performing their tasks efficiently. Suddenly, the flashing red eye of the command pilot discerned movement to his left. It caused him to turn his head in that direction. And then, his single eye saw something that his programming had been completely unprepared to anticipate. "Sir," he spoke aloud in that never-changing mechanical monotone that was typical of all centurions. But if the centurion had normal speech programmed into him like the IL Cylons and the Imperious Leader did, his words would have been tinged with surprise and incredulity. "If I may." "Not now," Baltar held up his arm and kept his eyes forward on the Galactica. "I don't want to miss one micron of the last Colonial battlestar's final death throes." "I really think you should take a look at the other battlestar." Baltar had a fraction of a second to wonder what kind of malfunction had just occurred in the command pilot to cause such a silly remark. "What are you babbling about----" he said as he turned his head to his left. And then, Baltar's jaw fell open in stunned disbelief as he felt his sensation of near ecstacy replaced by the same sensation he had known six sectars ago, when he had first realized that his own colony Piscera had been destroyed by the Cylons in a double-cross. Closing in fast on the fighter was the unmistakable form of a battlestar. And on the port landing bay pod, the name emblazoned for Baltar to see. PEGASUS. "It's impossible," was all he could whisper amidst his stunned shock. And underneath, he could feel himself screaming at Fate for why this was happening to him again, just as it had been six sectars ago, the last time he had felt on the verge of achieving the ultimate triumph in his life. "No, it is a battlestar." the command pilot offered the only response such a comment would have provoked to his mechanical, logically ordered mind. "Well don't just sit there!" Baltar suddenly shouted in panic. "Turn, you fool, turn! He's coming right for us!" The command pilot hastily maneuvered the raider into a banking motion. Baltar had time to see the red streaks of turret fire sail over the craft's top, missing it by less than two metrones before the fighter managed to get clear of the onrushing path of the Pegasus. Chapter Six The wait seemed like an eternity to Sheba, who had spent the last ten centons since the alert klaxon had sounded strapped inside her viper waiting for the launch order. But so far, that order had not come, and it only left her and the rest of Silver Spar's pilots increasingly restless. All of them still had bad tastes in their mouth from the near confrontation with the Galactica pilots, and were anxious to avenge their own ship's honor after what they felt had been one set of unfair humiliations after another since the previous day. "What are they waiting for?" she heard the voice of Lieutenant Banker over the squadron frequency. "Without us, this Fleet's dead." "Especially if they have to rely on clowns like Apollo for defense." Angus said with lingering bitterness. "All right, Angus, that's enough." Sheba suddenly cut in, not understanding at all why she felt the need to say something in defense of the Galactica captain. Maybe it was because she had to at least give him credit for having stopped Boomer from hurling any further epithets at her father, so perhaps she could at least do the same for him. "And I think that should go for all of us. If we want to make a statement against the Galactica pilots, let's do it with our flying." "One thing's for certain." This from Lieutenant Paris. "They won't be getting their hands on any of our reserve fuel after what's going to get used up in this battle." "One thing at a time, Paris." Sheba said, keeping all signs of her own restlessness out of her voice. Long ago, she'd learned from her father that the one trait that separated leaders from followers in a battle situation, was the ability to keep all emotions hidden, no matter how strong they felt inside. Followers could never do that, but leaders could. Finally, they heard Major Ham's voice from the bridge. "Silver Spar Squadron, you are cleared to launch!" Sheba smiled in satisfaction as she hit her turbo, which an instant later had sent her viper down the launch tube and into the starry, battle-lit darkness outside. "Blue Leader to Red Leader!" Apollo had finally lost his last shred of patience as he saw the new fires erupting from the Galactica. "What in Hades are you guys doing back there? They've had to have scored at least nine direct hits on her!" "Shut up!" Taggs's voice angrily snapped back. "We're trying to do our job, Apollo, now you just keep doing yours and keep them off the civilian ships!" "At the rate you're going Taggs, you're not going to leave us with a home base!" Apollo retorted, no longer caring about any niceties at this point. It was all too clear to him that Taggs had screwed up badly in his first major engagement as a squadron leader and the end result was more damage than the Galactica should have sustained under these circumstances. "Apollo!" he heard Starbuck's voice cut in. "The Pegasus has launched her fighters! Silver Spar now moving in to join up with our groups!" "Thank the Lords," Apollo said under his breath in gratitude. There was no doubt in his mind now, that the tide of the battle was about to turn. It only took Baltar two centons to see every last remaining hope and dream he'd carried collapse like a house of cards as the Pegasus vipers came on the scene and began inflicting heavy losses on the Cylon fighters from all three attack phalanxes. Soon, Baltar's ship was the only one left from those that had been engaged in strikes against the Galactica. "Sound the retreat!" the traitor barked. He was not about to take his chances under these more difficult circumstances, especially when the potential cost to his own life was now quite high. "All fighters are to return to their baseships immediately!" "But we have not finished off the Galactica." The command pilot pointed out. "We're half out of fuel and these new vipers are coming in fresh!" Baltar acidly shot back. "Now do as I say, before they blast us out of the stars!" he came within a fraction of slamming his fist against the command pilot's metallic shoulder. "Retreat. Squadron retreat." "Boomer, you've got another one on your tail!" Jolly radioed. "Can't shake him," the dark-skinned warrior gritted his teeth. "Jolly?" "You're out of my sector, I-----" "Don't worry, Lieutenant," Bojay's voice suddenly chimed in with a faint smug edge. "You're about to see the risk takers go to work." And then, an instant later the new arrival from Silver Spar Squadron had disposed of the fighter pursuing Boomer. "Thank you," Boomer said dryly, knowing right away what had to be going through Bojay's mind after the confrontation that had nearly taken place between them. "Anytime, Boomer." Bojay increased the smug edge. "Wouldn't want you to think we Pegasus flyers just like to stay safe and comfortable in our own backyard, would we?" "Cut the chatter, Bojay." Sheba chimed in sternly. "Just keep pursuing those tinheads and save the comebacks for later." Thank you, Sheba. Boomer said to himself. At the very least, she knew when it was time to put everything else aside. Not so with Bojay, who in battle was still demonstrating why he'd been something of an outsider during his earlier tour of duty aboard the Galactica. "Looks like they're retreating." Boomer said as he now consulted his scanner and saw all three phalanxes moving away from the two battlestars and the rest of the Fleet. "Do we pursue?" "Negative, Boomer," Apollo jumped back in as he pulled up his viper alongside Starbuck's and then Boomer's. "Our fuel situation is bad at this point. Blue and Red Squadrons need to land and soon." "We can't land on the Galactica, Apollo," Starbuck noted grimly as he pointed back at the burning battlestar behind him. "I don't even have to take a scan to tell that probably both landing bays are out for now." "Yeah," Blue Leader nodded and then uttered another silent epithet at Taggs. "Silver Spar Leader, can you inform Pegasus Core Command that we need to set down on the Pegasus for now?" "Affirmative, Blue Leader." Sheba responded with total professionalism. "Stand by and await instructions on beta channel frequency." "Thank you," Apollo said, and then added instinctively, "And thanks for the help." "All in a day's work, Captain." Her tone remained neutral. "It's what's expected of all of us ." She paused. "Like you said, we all have to be willing to put our lives on the line for everyone." How true, Apollo thought as he maneuvered his craft to a new heading. No matter how much Sheba and her fellow Pegasus flyers might infuriate him on a number of levels, they were the most professional group he'd ever seen in his life. In that respect, their blind devotion to Cain had paid it's greatest dividend. "Hey Apollo," Starbuck radioed. "What happens next? There's no way we can get fuel from the Pegasus now." "I know," Apollo sighed as he prepared to switch frequencies. "I think Cain's going to get his way now." Left unspoken, was Apollo's sudden realization that not only did he think Commander Cain was going to get his way concerning Gomorrah, he also believed that Commander Cain had to get his way. "Damage report, Jorda?" Adama inquired of the middle-aged gray haired man whose face filled the monitor in front of him. "Fires are all out, Commander." The Chief Fireman replied. "Shadrach's teams from Maintenance are starting to move in to take care of the clean-up and repair details. No compartment breeches to report, but the landing bays are really in bad shape. One wrecked fighter blocking Alpha Bay, and Beta Bay has some tarmac damage that makes viper landings impractical for at least five or six centars." "I see," Adama rubbed his eyes which had started to water as a result of the acrid smoke that still filled the bridge as a result of earlier short circuits and small fires. "Is it possible to still receive shuttles in Beta Bay?" "Just a micron," Jorda moved out of range briefly and then reappeared after a quick consultation. "Shadrach says shuttle launch and retrieval capacity is still good in Beta Bay. It would mean slowing down repair operations for viper landings though if you wanted to do it." "Thank you, that's all I needed to know. Inform Bridge Officer Omega of any further developments." As soon as Adama had switched off the console, his daughter was calling over to him. "Commander, message on com-line Alpha from Commander Cain." "Thank you, Athena." He nodded and activated the scrambled circuit. "Hello Adama," the Juggernaut said. "I hope my arrival was timely." "It was," Adama nodded. "Thanks for the assist, Cain. It didn't look any too good there for a while, but your timing was perfect in getting them to retreat quickly." "How's your damage look?" there was an edge of concern in Cain's voice. "Even on the monitor it looks like you've got something cooking on that bridge of yours." "Everything's under control," he said reassuringly. "But I'd like my fighters to land on the Pegasus for now. It'll take some time to repair both our landing bays." "It's already being done." Cain nodded and then injected a note of formal deference into his tone. "Commander, may I suggest we call a War Council meeting as quickly as possible? Those gallmonging Cylons are in a state of shock right now, but that won't last long." "Agreed," Adama nodded and consulted his chronometer. "We'll meet in twenty centons in my quarters. Beta Bay can still receive shuttles at this time so there's no problem on that end. And please have Colonel Tigh and my two squadron leaders accompany you." "No problem, Adama. I'll be there." As soon as Apollo was out of his viper, the first person he looked for was any pilot from Red Squadron. At the moment, he wanted some answers to some questions fast. "Barton," he spotted the young flight sergeant. "Come over here a centon." Barton came over to Apollo, his body still trembling from what seemed like anger. "Barton," he lowered his voice to a confidential tone. "Your group was handling the Galactica's defense. What in Hades went on out there?" The flight sergeant took a long slow, exhale, as though he were trying to keep from exploding. "I never thought I'd say this about a Columbia pilot, sir, but.....well to put it bluntly, Captain Taggs screwed up bad. We were never in the ideal formations to take out the incoming Cylons. At least five of those nine hits were preventable." "Thank you," Apollo nodded. "That's all I wanted to hear." The dark-haired captain then moved away and saw Sheba standing ten feet away from him. "Having problems in your own ranks, Captain?" she said with the slightest trace of frost. "Perhaps," he decided to be candid. "None of us are infallible, Sheba." "But some are less fallible than others, right?" He skipped a beat before answering. "Maybe so." She glanced over toward the compartment doorway where the confrontation had taken place but a centar ago. "Still think our fuel situation can only be solved with our reserve tanks?" "No." he shook his head. "Circumstances change, and that means we must act accordingly." he paused. "How strong is the Cylon base on Gomorrah in terms of fighter strength?" "One baseship's worth of fighters." she folded her arms. "I see," Apollo nodded. "And all this time, they've never sent them out against you?" "For a good reason, Captain. If they were to lose all those fighters in an even-strength engagement with us, the command infrastructure there would have to do some explaining to the Cylon High Command that I don't think they're anxious to do, yet." "Sheba," Apollo said gently. "You don't have to be so formal." She stared at him for a long micron in deep contemplation and then slowly nodded. "Very well, Apollo." she said and then took a breath. "For....what it's worth, I'd like to apologize for any slur I made against your father back there. It was.....a simple matter of passionate disagreement over battle tactics." "Accepted." he nodded, wondering how much of her change of heart was influenced by the fact that her father was now in command of the Pegasus again and was now apt to get his way when it came to Gomorrah. "We're....both proud of what our fathers have accomplished, and that's an admirable trait in any person." Sheba finally allowed herself a smile, and Apollo once again felt his heart skip a beat. "Of course." She then seemed to relax, "It's been a long, trying time for all of us, whether we're from the Galactica or the Pegasus. I suppose an early blow-up was inevitable, but.....maybe we can now learn how to move on from that, now that we really need to work together." "I want us to move on from that, Sheba," Apollo said. "You're one of the best natural pilots I've ever seen, and I know that people like you and your father can ultimately help make the difference for us in finally getting clear of this Cylon pursuit for the long-term." She seemed touched by his remark, finding it completely unexpected after all that had gone on before. "Thank you." the started walking alongside each other across the tarmac. Then, she glanced at him slightly and then asked awkwardly. "Have we ever met before?" "In the Club----" "No, I don't mean the Club." she shook her head. "I mean, did we ever meet when we were kids? I know your mother and my mother were old friends from primary school days, but I'm trying to remember if you ever came with her to my house, or if I ever went to your house." "I don't think so." Apollo shook his head. "I'm pretty sure I would have remembered that, once I found out you were Cain's daughter. I do remember meeting your mother coming to my house, but after I'd say hello to her, I usually went off to keep watch over my brother and sister while my mother chatted all afternoon with her." Sheba snapped her fingers. "Your brother! That's who I met. When I was about six, my father took me to a triad match in Caprica City and we met Adama and your brother that night at the Arena and had dinner together afterwards. His name was....Zac, wasn't it?" "Yeah," Apollo nodded, amazed at her sudden recall, and then trying to wonder why he wouldn't have been along on that occasion. Then he remembered. He'd spent two entire warm season breaks from school on retreat outings in the Caprican mountains, chiefly because he liked the opportunity to get away from home and both of his siblings. "And he's....." "He's dead." He shook his head and kept his tone even. "He was killed in the Holocaust." Her expression suddenly grew sympathetic. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...." "It's okay," Apollo said, as he realized that for the first time he was seeing the side of Sheba that he'd only glimpsed before in the hologram in Cain's quarters. "Just....another sad incident from the past that had to be put behind forever. That's all you can do when something like that happens." But you can't forget them, he then added to himself. You always have to let the memory live with you, without destroying you. Whether it's Zac or Mother or....... He suddenly came to a stop and shook his head slightly. "Apollo?" Sheba asked with concern. "What is it? Is something wrong?" Apollo managed to look at her and shook his head no, again. And inside, came the realization that he couldn't dare let himself develop his fascination with Sheba and her personality into anything further. Not if he was to keep honoring a promise he'd made to himself five sectars ago on the sands of Kobol. "It's nothing," he said nonchalantly. "I think it's just the details of the battle and what it is we have to do next, are starting to get to me." "I see." Just then, the turbo lift doors opened and Cain emerged, followed by Colonel Tigh. "Sheba, Apollo," the Juggernaut motioned his swagger stick. "Both of you get aboard my shuttle immediately. We have to go meet with Adama for a War Council meeting." "I think I'd like to have some of our other pilots, come along too, Commander." Apollo said, totally back to the present in every sense. "Well round them up quickly, Captain." Cain kept waving his stick. "Not a micron to spare, right now." "Yes sir," Apollo nodded and ran over to the other side of the tarmac where he saw Starbuck conversing with Bojay. As soon as everyone was in Adama's quarters, no time was wasted in getting to the heart of the matter. "As I think it's clear to you, Adama, the Pegasus no longer has the reserve fuel sufficient for getting the ships in the Fleet that need fuel most, underway again." Cain was saying. "That means our only option now is on Gomorrah." Adama sat in his chair, his finger touching his lips in contemplation. "How strong is the Cylon military force there." "One full baseship's worth of fighters," Apollo spoke up, glancing back at Sheba who nodded. "That's in addition to the three baseships of the attacking task force." "Commander," Tigh spoke up, feeling more relaxed now that he was back in a familiar environment. "We can't let them launch a united assault against us in a second attack. Three against two is barely break even-odds, but four against two means we'd never survive." "I see," Adama rose from his chair and came over to Cain. "Your recommendation, Commander?" The Juggernaut's swagger and enthusiasm was never more in evidence. "That now is the time to knock out that base on Gomorrah, and get the fuel we need in the process." "Go on the offensive," Adama's tone was the same dry skepticism he'd expressed a day earlier during the last confrontation. "When we're so badly outgunned?" "Yes," Cain motioned his stick. "It would take them by surprise." Apollo saw the skeptical look on his father's face and decided that he had to jump in. "I agree with Commander Cain, sir. I don't think the Cylons expect us to move against their outer capitol with three baseships stalking us." Adama reluctantly sighed. "Losing lives in exchange for that base goes against everything I believe in." "Commander, I'm afraid that right now we only have the options of either losing some lives in a raid against Gomorrah, or more lives by not taking action that will get us the fuel we need, not to mention keep us at even numbers for when the next Cylon attack hits us." Tigh spoke up, feeling only the tiniest bit of distaste that he was forced to take Cain's side over Adama's on this occasion. "So it would seem," the Galactica commander grunted. "Adama, we can take Gomorrah without losing lives." Cain was smiling. "Two battlestars can completely overwhelm them." "But your own intelligence indicates that their anti-assault batteries are practically foolproof," Adama noted. "And that's why all of your previous raids have been quick and not sustained actions." "That's true," Cain conceded. "But as you know, Cylons have no independent initiative. Their control circuits are always centralized. We can use that to our advantage by sending in a small team to neutralize the anti-assault batteries. Then our squadrons can sweep over the city totally unchallenged and shut down the place. Then we go in, and keep fighting until Gomorrah and the entire fuel depot is ours." Adama drew himself up to a full command position. "I must say this again, Cain. Our overall objective can not be taking the entire base and securing it for the long haul. The only thing we can get from Gomorrah is sufficient fuel for the entire Fleet to escape those basestars." "Of course," Cain lowered his head in deference and waved his stick to emphasize that. "But I do think we should at least try to go way beyond loading the minimum in fuel we need. Keep loading all possible tankers, and using all solium and tylium storage space on the Galactica as well right up to the last possible micron before we leave." Adama digested the Juggernaut's words for several microns and then slowly nodded. "All right, Cain. So we send in teams to load as much fuel from the depot as we can, and not stop with the minimum. But then, what happens when the task force sends its fighters back against us once they realize Gomorrah is under attack? Their first objective will be to go to their outer capital's defense and our fuel teams will be vulnerable targets sitting on the ground. How do we meet that contingency?" Cain took two steps forward, "After we secure the fuel base," his words seemed carefully measured. "I propose that we withdraw one battlestar to delay those incoming baseships." "A single battlestar? To fight off three baseships and all their fighters?" It seemed more and more unlikely to Adama that he would ever hear anything in this tactical plan that would make him feel confident in any sense. "Not fight off," Cain said gently. "Delay. I'll give them the impression that we're leaving Gomorrah and heading off into deep space. I'll lead them away, and you'll have more time to gather all the fuel you'll need for that Fleet to last a couple yahrens." "You seem to have decided that it's to be the Pegasus that withdraws and attacks those incoming baseships." Adama dryly observed. "The Galactica is still under repair," Cain said matter of factly. "And you'll need that extra time of clear skies over Gomorrah to finish your landing bay repairs and retrieve all your fighters from the Gomorrah assault. Besides," he shrugged, "You carried the load for the Fleet in the last battle. Now it's my ship's turn." Brilliantly argued and plotted, Apollo thought to himself. This was clearly the side of the Juggernaut that he'd admired deeply for so many yahrens. But in the wake of the tanker incident, even he had to wonder if Commander Cain had some other kind of ulterior motive in mind in deciding to take on the basestars himself. Adama then turned to face the others gathered in the room. "You pilots will report to flight operations immediately and await further instructions, which will come in the next five centons. Colonel Tigh, please return to the Bridge and get an update from Chief Jorda on our repair progress." Nothing more was said as Apollo, Starbuck, Bojay and Sheba rose from their chairs and left the room, followed by Tigh. The two battlestar commanders were now alone. "Cain," Adama said delicately. "Before I give final approval to this plan of yours-----" "What are you worried about, Adama?" Cain sighed with resignation. "A repetition of the tanker incident?" "That's precisely what I'm worried about." He stepped toward him, trying to find the right balance between sounding like a friend and a commander. "Cain, you and I have known each other for forty yahrens. There isn't any man who's a greater admirer of your strategic genius than I am. But your entire history since those long-ago days when we flew together, has been based on individual initiative instead of teamwork." The Juggernaut looked him in the eye. "Well, I can't lie to you, Adama. I still believe in the need to try and avenge our pride against the Cylons, and nothing would give me greater pleasure than to run the Colonial Flag up in front of the Great Hall colonnade on Gomorrah. I know you'd never agree with my thinking on this point, but taking Gomorrah could easily be the first step toward putting the Cylons back on the defensive at long last if we committed ourselves to that objective." "Cain," Adama said gravely. "What I said to you before, I now beg of you again. Let go of the past. Your absence from the Colonies isn't the reason why the Cylons were able to defeat us." "So you've said," Cain didn't look at him and then absently sipped from the chalice full of water on the table. And it was clear to Adama that his old friend remained unconvinced on that point. "Cain," he decided he had to try another tact. "Do you fully comprehend the liability of a military confrontation at a time when we also have to protect 220 unarmed civilian ships? This isn't like asking the support ships of the Fifth Fleet to stand by and hold their own." "Of course I comprehend it, Adama," his retort was phrased in mild, gentle tones. "And that's why I propose to use the Pegasus to divert those baseships away from you. That way, you and your squadrons can remain on the scene and insure that nothing happens to the Fleet in the meantime." Adama realized that he'd run out of objections at this point. It was only his own inner concern of the unexpected that had him feeling so uneasy, but at this point he knew that it wasn't enough to make him take any action. Not the least of which was the fact that he had no alternative plan of his own. It had to be exactly as Cain had outlined it. "I just don't want any more surprises." he said firmly. Cain rose from his chair and smiled thinly. "Then the mission is a go?" "I obviously don't have any other choice." "No," there was no boasting in the Juggernaut's voice as he finished the rest of the water in the chalice. "You don't. I'll be heading back to the Pegasus to set up operations there. And I think you should also get an assault team ready for operations on Gomorrah." Cain didn't wait for Adama to respond as he set the chalice down and left the room. The Galactica commander shook his head slightly in amazement as he went over to his desk to contact the flight operations center. "How are our casualties faring, Cassiopeia?" Dr. Salik inquired as he finished his inspection of the Life Station. "All intense trauma victims are now stabilized." The blonde med-tech said as she handed her micro-computer to the Chief Medical Officer. "Those who came in for minor injuries are all on their way out now. No deaths at all, thankfully." "Well that's good," Salik grunted as he consulted the readout. "You and the rest of the staff have done a fine job under fire. I couldn't have asked for better results." "Thank you, Doctor," Cassiopeia smiled, grateful that she'd been able to perform exactly according to the meticulous standards Salik had trained her in. Every compliment she received from him about her work was always enough to continually reinforce in her mind how glad she was that she had changed professions and been able to accomplish something truly meaningful for the people of the Fleet. "Take the next few centars off, Cassie," Salik said. "You and the rest of your detail have earned it. I'll notify you if you're needed for anything unexpected." "Of course." Cassiopeia nodded and then left the Life Station, hoping she still had a chance to take care of some personal business at last. She went through several corridors in the direction of the VIP quarters, and then saw Cain coming down the corridor from the other direction. "Cain!" she sprinted up to him. "Thank the Lords I caught you. I was afraid you'd gone back to the Pegasus by this point." "I'm on my way back there right now, Cassie." The Juggernaut said in a more quiet tone than she was used to hearing from him. "I see. Well.....I was hoping we could talk before you left." Cain smiled thinly. "I wish we could. But now is just not the time, Cassie." "I could go with you to the Pegasus. I'm off-duty now from the Life Station, so that wouldn't be a problem." "No," he interrupted gently. "No, believe me Cassie, it would be safer for you to just stay here." "Safer?" she frowned. "Why? What are you going to do?" "It's a mission. Don't worry, it's going to be all right." he then smiled. "Besides, you know how I always come back. We can....have that talk later." Cassiopeia wanted to say something in protest, but found that she couldn't find the words at that instant. "I love you," he said softly, and then without waiting to see her reaction, he turned and was gone. Leaving Cassiopeia alone and confused. She had never heard the Juggernaut utter those three words to her before during the yahren of their relationship. He'd always told her how grateful he was for her. How much he admired her. How much she meant to him. How glad he was that she had provided love for him. But never once did he use that more meaningful set of words, as though he felt it might have meant dishonoring his late wife if he had done so. Why now? Cassiopeia thought. Why now, would Cain feel the need to say that to her? Unless..... A feeling of dread horror swept through Cassiopeia, causing her to promptly turn and head toward the turbolift that would take her down to the flight operations center. After leaving Adama's quarters, Apollo and Starbuck had gone straight to the flight operations center where Boomer was already waiting. "Glad you're here, Boomer," Apollo said. "We're going to be needing you." "My shuttle landed here a couple centons ago, and I came down here right away." The dark-skinned warrior said. "What's up?" At that point, the intercom sounded. "Commander Adama, calling flight operations center." "This is Captain Apollo," Apollo said as he answered the intercom. "What are our instructions?" "Proceed immediately with Gomorrah assault operations. Gather a team and report immediately to Beta shuttle bay as soon as you have all necessary gear." "Affirmative. Already got a team in place. Apollo out." "Somehow, I get the feeling that history is repeating itself, and I've just found myself 'volunteering' again, like I did at the Nova Madagon." Boomer sighed. "Okay, what is it I've dragged myself into this time?" Starbuck grinned at his friend. "You get to visit your first planet since rescuing me from Attila." "Oh great," Boomer sighed as he reached for the door at the other side of the room where special assault gear was kept. "Just what I always wanted to do. Visit a Cylon capital. What a wonderful travelator you are, Apollo." "Just grab some camouflage gear and then we'll stop by Ordnance to get all the weapons pack charges we'll be needing." Boomer pulled out the appropriate equipment pack and slung it over his shoulder. "Care to tell me what the odds are of us coming out of this?" "You really want to know?" Apollo said as he took a pack from Boomer and then handed one to Starbuck. Boomer let out a mirthless chuckle. "That's what I thought. About as good as Starbuck winning an honest hand at Pyramid." "Hey come on, Boomer, if that's the way you want to look at it, you should be an optimist." the blonde lieutenant said. "I've known you too long, and played too many hands with you, Bucko." Boomer kept up his edge of gallows humor. "You don't have to come, Boomer." Apollo said. "I can easily find someone else." "No, no." the dark-skinned warrior held up a hand. "We're all in this together. And if you two want to go on the dangerous missions like this, then inevitably I have to tag along. That's always my fate in life. To go wherever you guys go." Apollo smiled and clapped his hand on Boomer's shoulder. Along with Starbuck, he was one warrior he could always feel confident trusting his life to. As he finished putting his own pack on, he then made a mental note that he'd neglected to have a talk with his father about Captain Taggs's incompetent performance in the recent battle. When all of this was over, he planned on letting his father know that Red Squadron deserved a better leader. Someone like Boomer, who'd earned the right to be a leader now. "All right," the captain said. "Let's head down to Ordnance." But before they reached the door, they were surprised to see it open and then see Sheba and Bojay enter. The two Pegasus warriors were each carrying a large number of explosive charge packs, in addition to several weapons packs. "I figured you'd be needing these, so we stopped by Ordnance and decided to save you some time." Sheba said as she handed two of the packs to Apollo. "Thanks," Apollo was mildly surprised. "In the meantime, you can grab a couple camouflage packs for Bojay and me." The three Galactica warriors froze in disbelief. "What for?" "We've been assigned to the Galactica ground force." Bojay said, the slight smug edge of his voice that had annoyed Boomer during the battle was still present. "By whose orders?" Apollo asked skeptically. "My father's," Sheba said firmly. "We are, after all, the only people currently aboard the Galactica who are familiar with the target area." "You mean you've been there on the ground?" for some reason, Apollo felt a twinge of uneasiness at the thought of Sheba going on this mission. Something he couldn't put his finger on since he already knew how good a warrior she was, but he knew he felt it just the same. "No," she admitted. "But we have flown over it many times. And since we'll be making freeflight jumps, it's probably a good idea for you to have people with you who know where you're going." she smiled thinly, "Unless you want to trust your fate to the computer?" "I got to admit, I kind of like the sound of that." Starbuck smiled back at her. Already, in the back of his mind, he was wondering if Sheba might be someone worth setting his sights on in case Cassiopeia ultimately chose Cain. "Welcome aboard." "Uh, just a centon." Apollo held up his hand. "No reflection on your ability, but ah, I'm just a little puzzled that your father would risk you on such a......" "One way mission?" she maintained her faint smile as she finished the sentence in more blunt terms than Apollo would have expressed. "Ah, ah, ah." Starbuck stepped forward and interjected in his most characteristic macho bravado. "Let's not put it that way, Sheba. I'm one kid who never goes on one way missions." Sheba looked at him with faint bemusement. "So sorry, Lieutenant. Just being a realist." "Realist?" Starbuck smirked and went over to the locker to retrieve two more camouflage packs. "Hey, if we were realists, we'd all be dead back in the Colonies and you guys would have never left Molocay alive." As Sheba took the pack from Starbuck, her smirk widened. "Nice way of putting things, Lieutenant. I'll keep that in mind." Maybe there's hope for me here, Starbuck thought. "Thanks. Okay, I guess all we need to do is get a med-tech and we can go." "We're not taking a med-tech." Sheba said as she put the pack over her shoulder. The three Galactica warriors frowned. "What?" Starbuck asked. "We're not going to have any time to stop for the wounded on this mission." Sheba said forcefully. "We're only going to have microns to get in and out of there as it is." "Okay," Starbuck smiled. "I get it. Well, that's my kind of mission. Short." Sheba returned it. "You really are an optimist at heart, aren't you, Lieutenant?" "Starbuck-" Apollo started, feeling another uneasy twinge come over him. "Just a micron," the brash warrior held up a hand and drew closer to Sheba. "Yeah, you could say that. Matter of fact, how about I put my optimism to the test by making a little side bet that we get back from all this safely?" "What's the side bet?" a suggestive, coy edge entered Sheba's voice. "Well, ah...." Starbuck smirked at Apollo and Boomer, who both understood right away what he had in mind. And Apollo also knew right away that he didn't like one bit of it. "Suppose we made it something......personal?" Sheba kept smiling coyly at him and then slowly shook her head. "Bad idea, Lieutenant. You wouldn't want me throwing the mission just to avoid the bet." She smiled back at Apollo and Boomer, who were already beginning to show signs of breaking up. "Meet you in Beta Bay." As soon as she and Bojay were gone, peals of laughter erupted from both Apollo and Boomer. And in Apollo's case, it was with the silent desire to applaud and say, thank you, Sheba! "At long last." Boomer said as he came over to the blonde warrior. "Someone in this universe is immune to the patented Starbuck charm." "Okay," Starbuck shrugged, trying to conceal the embarrassment at being topped. "So my success rate gets lowered into the 99% bracket." "And from what I hear about you and Cassiopeia, going down even further." Boomer tapped him on the shoulder. "Come on Bucko, let's get going. Dropping in to a Cylon capital will do wonders for helping you forget about your troubles." Sheba and Bojay were still waiting for the turbolift at the other end of the corridor when the three Galactica warriors arrived. They rode together down to Beta launch bay and walked across the tarmac toward the waiting shuttle when a concerned Cassiopeia emerged from the compartment door. "Starbuck!" she called out. "I've got to talk to you." The blonde warrior came to a stop and uneasily glanced at the rest of the team. "Uh...Cass, this isn't exactly a good time. We're about to launch an assault mission on Gomorrah." "I know, I missed you in flight ops and ran like mad to catch you before you left." She said as she grabbed his arm and led him in back of a support post. Even so, Sheba found herself staying close so she could listen in, since she instinctively realized that whatever Cassiopeia had to say had to concern her father. "Starbuck, where are they sending Cain?" At that moment, Starbuck felt more angry at Cassiopeia than at any other time since he'd met her. "I don't believe this. I'm about to drop in the middle of Gomorrah with a hundred thousand Cylons surrounding me, and you have the nerve after walking out on me the other day to ask me about Cain?" Cassiopeia knew Starbuck had a reason to be mad at her on that point, since she'd never bothered to make amends for walking out suddenly after he'd told her about Cain. "Look Starbuck, never mind that. All I'm trying to tell you is that I don't think Cain's coming back." "What?" Sheba came up to them. "What are you talking about?" "Starbuck, we've got to leave now!" Apollo called over, feeling an edge of impatience creeping in. "Yeah, in a micron." he waved his hand and gave the med-tech a cold stare. "Look, Cassiopeia, I don't know what you heard about Cain, but he's a survivor. He'll be back. Now if that's all that's worrying you, go talk to someone else, because you picked the wrong person with me on that score." "Starbuck!" she protested. "Will you stop and listen to me? If Cain was expecting to survive, he would have taken me aboard the Pegasus. But he just said that I'd be safer here on the Galactica." "What else did he say to you?" Sheba came up to Cassiopeia. "Look, this whole thing applies to everyone." Apollo came alongside Sheba. "The odds are against us, but we'll all get through. Now Starbuck, Sheba, let's both get going now!" "No wait," Sheba shook her head as a sick feeling came over her. "She's right. If he left her off the ship, he's got to have something crazy planned." Cassiopeia sighed in disgust as she noticed how Sheba's distaste for her was still obvious in her refusal to mention her name. "I've got to get back to the Pegasus right away." Sheba started moving in the opposite direction from the shuttle, but Apollo abruptly grabbed her arm. "Sorry, Lieutenant." he pointed emphatically at her. "You're with us. Your father's orders, remember?" Sheba swallowed uneasily. "My father doesn't even know that Bojay and I are still aboard the Galactica. This was all my idea." "Apollo," Cassiopeia stepped forward. "I can take her place. I'm off-duty from the Life Station." "Uh uh," Apollo shook his head. "You don't know where the target area is. Sheba does." "I know where it is, Apollo. You don't need Sheba for that reason." Bojay stepped forward with concern. In the yahren that he'd flown with Sheba, he'd come to think of her like a sister. "Okay," Apollo said. "But Sheba also knows how to set explosives and Cassiopeia doesn't, so that settles it! Now let's get going!" "Where's your med-tech, Apollo?" Cassiopeia gently inquired. "We haven't got one," and then realized exactly what she was going to say as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "You do now." The blonde med-tech stepped forward and walked across the tarmac toward the shuttle. "Oh great," Starbuck said under his breath and glanced skyward, "Lord, what did I do to deserve this?" "All right, all right!" Apollo held up his arm and decided it was time to reassert some authority. "Now everyone, move! I want us away in the next centon." "Hey Cass," Starbuck moved ahead of them and caught up with Cassiopeia, who was already ascending the ramp into the shuttle, "Just what do you think you're doing?" "Going on the mission, what else?" she turned around and retorted. "Dressed like that?" he pointed at her med-tech uniform. "You've got another freeflight camouflage pack stored on the shuttle, don't you?" she retorted. "It is standard equipment for them, so in that case I'll meet you inside." At the bottom of the ramp, Sheba felt her inner fury at Cassiopeia bubbling to the surface. "Damn it all, I am not going to ride the same shuttle with her!" she spat her words out. "Take it easy, Sheba. The mission's all that matters now." Bojay said gently as he went inside. "He's right," Apollo took her arm again and looked her in the eye. "She's one of us. Live with that, Sheba. It'll do you a lot of good." She took a breath, "All right, Apollo. Nothing but professionalism from here on in." She then went up the ramp and entered the shuttle, followed by Apollo, leaving only Starbuck and Boomer outside. "Well," Boomer said wryly. "We sure have one nice tight little team, don't we?" "Yeah," Starbuck matched his friend's tone. "With support troops like these, who needs Cylons?" They then entered the shuttle and the ramp door closed behind them. As they settled in, Apollo was already removing his black free-flight suit from the pack. "All right," Apollo said as soon as the shuttle was away. "Let's get to work. Sheba, Cassie, you'll have to get your gear on in the back." Sheba glared at him and was on the verge of issuing another retort but caught herself in time. She gave Cassiopeia a less than friendly look and said. "Very well. Let's get to it." The two of them rose and disappeared into the shuttle's adjacent compartment, saying nothing to each other. Finally, after nearly a centon's silence, as the two of them took out their black free-flight suits, Cassiopeia decided that events had now forced her to have the talk with Sheba that she wished Cain had done long ago. "Sheba," Cassiopeia said bluntly. "Before we go any further, I'd like to talk to you." "Go ahead." Sheba refused to look at her as she removed her flight jacket. "I may not be much for conversation." "I don't blame you for that," Cassiopeia decided she wouldn't put any blame for the bad blood between them on Sheba. "You and I never hit it off three yahrens ago, and I've always understood why. The whole thing was your father's fault." Sheba was halfway off with her flight uniform and glared at her. "Watch what you say," she said coldly. "It's bad enough you have to re-enter my life and his. Even worse that I have to spend the next few centars working with you. But if you think I'm going to have to listen to that kind of felgercarb----" "Try talking to your father about it sometime, and he'll tell you the same thing." Cassiopeia refused to be intimidated as she slipped off her med-tech uniform. "Oh, not that he and I came together. It's how he handled things with you after that." "Right," Sheba folded up her flight uniform and stuffed it into the camouflage pack. "But all he was doing was just making you happy, and making you feel so important in his life." "Sheba, I never asked him to take down your mother's holopictures and her awards and everything else." Cassiopeia said bluntly. "I thought it was sending the wrong message to you, but I couldn't get him to budge on that. He just felt that he couldn't look at any reminder of Bethany without having another breakdown." She paused. "In his way, he still worships her. Unfortunately, his way made it seem like that he was trying to forget her. And that was because he didn't have the kind of talk he should have had with you." "But he sure had plenty of those talks with you, didn't he?" Sheba retorted, deciding that low-key hostility was the most she would give her. "A socialator he had time for, but not me. There you were, dressed in your finest socialator's gown, ready and willing to offer him everything a socialator is trained to do, right? And boy, did you get more than you ever could have bargained for." Cassiopeia stuck her legs inside the skintight free-flight uniform. "Sheba, I'm not going to waste my time defending what I used to do for a living. What happened between me and Cain happened, and we developed something that we both felt was meaningful, and which still means something to the both of us. But he should have been more mindful of how you would have reacted to the whole thing. He should have kept your mother's pictures out and been willing to talk about her from time to time. And by God, he should have been willing to tell you that the reason why he had trouble opening up to you after she died was because you remind him so much of her." For the first time, the anger and hostility faded from Sheba's face. Replaced by a mask of total confusion as she heard something that had never once crossed her mind in the last three yahrens. "Yeah, you heard me right." Cassiopeia realized she'd finally made an impact on her. "And God knows he'll be mad at me when he finds out I did this, but he's been putting off the matter for too long now. You're entitled to the truth, Sheba. And now that I've given it to you, it's up to you to decide what to do with that." The med-tech then moved off and adjusted her black uniform so that it was tightly secure. For a long centon, Sheba stood there, her free-flight uniform only half on, deeply contemplating what she'd just heard. Finally, Sheba got to her feet, zipped up the back of her uniform and began securing her hair into a topknot so she could put her helmet on. "Cassiopeia." Cassiopeia turned around in surprise. It was the first time she could ever remember Sheba addressing her by name. "Ummm, Cassiopeia," it was clear she was struggling with her words, and it made Cassiopeia realize that there was yet another thing that Sheba had inherited from her father. A difficulty in opening up at the right moment. "I.....did he actually say all that to you?" "He did." She said. "And he should have told you the same things long ago." "All the time, when he didn't want to talk to me, I........" she trailed off and then awkwardly put a hand to her face, as though she wished she could glance in a mirror to see herself. "Yes," Cassiopeia nodded. "His exact words to me the other day, and I quote, were 'Every time I looked at her, all I could see is Bethany's face. She's the very image of her.'" she paused. "There's still a part of him that hasn't stopped grieving for her, and it's kept him from ever thinking about marrying me, or opening up to you, or being able to honor her memory with some dignity. And that's the cause of why you and I had our nasty confrontations. It wasn't your fault any more than it was mine. And I wish I'd made him confront this whole thing back then, because the one thing I desperately wanted was to be able to become your friend some day." Sheba put her hand to her chin and sat down, making the final adjustment to her free-flight uniform. Finally, she took a breath and forced herself to look at Cassiopeia. "If....what you say is true." she finally spoke. "Then....I'm glad you told me that. Really." "Of course." Cassiopeia wasn't about to expect her to suddenly apologize or throw her arms about her in friendship. At the very least, she'd gotten Sheba to listen to her, and it had made an impact. That was the most she could have hoped to accomplish. At the very least, it was all off her chest and all up to Sheba to do what she wanted to do with that information. Maybe I was wrong, the med-tech thought as she recalled her remark in the Officer's Club when she'd seen Sheba walk out after her arrival with Cain. Maybe people do change. "Five centons to target drop zone." they heard Apollo's voice over the intercom from the forward compartment. "Better get yourselves up here and into position." Cassiopeia piled her hair on top so she could get her helmet on. It gave her some trouble, and came undone again. She grimaced slightly and went to work on it again. "Here," Sheba handed her a fastener that she normally used to secure her own hair. "I've got an extra one. It should do the job for you." The blonde med-tech seemed pleasantly surprised. "Thank you," she said as she took it. And as she did, their eyes met each other and it almost seemed to Cassiopeia as though she could see a silent apology being telegraphed to her in Sheba's expression. "Okay," the Juggernaut's daughter suddenly straightened herself and her expression became professional again. "Let's get ready to do the job. You ever free-flighted before?" "Once." she admitted, "Not the most pleasant of experiences." "Well, if you just remember to pull at three microns, there's nothing to it," Sheba said as she opened the door to the forward compartment. As they entered, Cassiopeia felt that at long last, she'd finally made some progress. The only potential regret she might feel was knowing that settling matters with Sheba made the prospects of choosing Cain over Starbuck all the more attractive to her now. And yet, here she was right now, also wondering if Cain was going to be taken from her just at the point when she felt as though she really wanted him back again. Chapter Seven IL Series Cylon Luna, chief aide to the Cylon Imperious Leader, had noticed a distinct change in the Leader's temperament ever since their baseship had left the home planet two sectars ago to begin the long journey to the outer capital of Gomorrah. Before, it had seemed to Luna that the Cylon ruler had grown increasingly restless and ill-tempered waiting for news of the final destruction of the Battlestar Galactica and her Fleet of 220 ships, and so he had recommended that the Leader get away from the home planet for the time being, and make some personal inspections of the larger outer bases in the Cylon Empire, culminating with a visit to the outer capital of Gomorrah. So far, the survey of more than two dozen Cylon bases had been everything Luna had hoped for. Seeing the Cylon Empire's vision of total order being put into effect had restored the Leader's sense of pride and exhilaration over what he now exercised total dominion over. When such vast levels of territory had been conquered, how could one experience any great disillusionment over the fact that the final traces of human civilization had still not been eradicated? At the very least, the main goal of implementing Cylon order following the conquest of the Colonies was now active in full force. And at the very edge of charted space in the Cryllian star system, the planet Gomorrah represented the zenith of how far Cylon power had extended itself. Yes, Luna thought as he entered the command center of the Leader's baseship, this should be the final triumphant note of a glorious grand tour of the Empire. "Centurion," the IL said, "What is our present position?" "Assuming standard orbit on far side Gomorrah. Now entering low-powered descent for arrival at the capital aerodrome." "Excellent. Put me through to the garrison commander." "By your command." Luna went over to the communications terminal and waited for the picture to emerge of Commander Keldor, the IL in charge of operations for the outer capital. "Commander Keldor, this is Luna." he spoke as soon as the face emerged. "I assume you have completed preparations for our arrival at the colonnade this evening?" "Um.....yes." there was a faint air of uneasiness in the commander's voice. "Yes, we have prepared an elaborate reception that is most worthy of honoring our great leader." There it was again, Luna thought. That strange air of uneasiness in Keldor's voice, every time he'd exchanged messages with him. It had been there from the very first communique Luna and Keldor had made several sectans back when he'd first sent a long-term message informing the commander of the Cylon ruler's impending visit. Such news should have been greeted with total pride and exuberance. But just from the way Keldor sounded, it almost seemed to Luna as though he were wishing that the Imperious Leader never arrived on Gomorrah. Luna hadn't bothered to share his twinge of uneasiness with the Leader. He knew right away that it would only bring questions of whether or not he had proof that something was wrong, and he certainly had none of that. And he couldn't think of a reason why there should be something wrong. "We should be arriving at the aerodrome in exactly fifteen centons, and then at the colonnade in one centar. On behalf of the Leader, I can say that we are looking forward immeasurably to the hospitality of Gomorrah, as well as seeing the success you have brought in transforming the planet into a model of Cylon order and efficiency." "We are looking forward to it as well, Luna." Keldor said with gratitude. "For the Leader to make such an auspicious journey all the way from Cylon, honors us deeply." As Luna ended the transmission and prepared to go to the throne room so he could inform the Leader of the impending arrival on Gomorrah, he tried once again to channel the energy of his second brain into determining what could possibly be troubling Commander Keldor at this point. As soon as he had returned to his baseship, Baltar hadn't even bothered to meet with Lucifer. He was still in too much of a state of shock over the sudden appearance of a second battlestar, and how all of his plans and hopes that he'd carefully nurtured over the last sectar had now been laid waste again. Instead, he'd gone back to the isolated throne room that he'd abandoned and left vacant a sectar ago, finding the high perch of the throne to be a welcome escape on this occasion. Two centars passed before he heard the sound of Lucifer enter the room. He didn't even bother waiting for the IL to utter that increasingly tiresome "By your command" as he rotated the throne chair around. "I assume you have new intelligence reports to give me?" he inquired sourly. For only an instant, Lucifer felt a sense of enjoyment at seeing Baltar metaphorically knocked off the perch he'd been on but a few centars earlier. "The squadron leaders of the last engagement, as well as the commanders of the two supporting baseships have all been in consultation with us." "And?" he waved his hand impatiently. "We are dealing with the Battlestar Pegasus, as you are undoubtedly aware. Presumed destroyed two yahrens ago at the Battle of Molocay, although the reports of her destruction were apparently based on less concrete data than was believed at the time." "Yes, I know that!" Baltar activated the switch that would lower the throne down to ground level, as he now found the height too dizzying and confining for him. "And my congratulations to Cylon intelligence for having missed that critical detail two yahrens ago." He shook his head in amazement. "The great Commander Cain himself. Alive and well after all this time." When the throne chair reached ground level, he stepped out. "So what is the latest recommendation as a result of your intelligence gathering?" "It is the recommendation of the two commanders, as well as myself, Baltar, that a second strike take place in conjunction with fighters based on Gomorrah." "In other words, ask them for help." Baltar's sour tone persisted. "Somehow, I find the idea of a minor base commander taking credit for destroying the Galactica, slightly annoying." "We did not do quite so well in battle this day." Lucifer gently reminded, deciding that he didn't need to tweak Baltar with any sarcasm to enhance his own inner enjoyment. "We were taken by surprise," the traitor began to pace about the room, and then turned back to face him. "Thanks to your so-called 'intelligence reports'!" "I would note however, that in this instance, the fault for lack of good intelligence would rest entirely with the command structure on Gomorrah, since we must assume that they were aware of the Pegasus's existence prior to today, and failed to notify us." For the first time, the sour expression faded from Baltar's face. "Quite true. At the very least, that would prevent the base commander from taking any of the ultimate credit in the final outcome." He then drew closer to the IL Cylon. "How many squadrons are based on Gomorrah?" "The equivalent of one baseship." The aura of confidence and hope now returned to the traitor's visage, "So in other words, we would have the firepower of four baseships at our disposal, and thus negate the element of the Pegasus entirely?" "That would be correct, Baltar," Lucifer felt a twinge of regret that he had just managed to restore Baltar's ego and confidence, but even he knew that he could scarcely be more concerned with seeing Baltar look bad than seeing the final destruction of humanity take place. "Then prepare for a new attack!" Baltar pointed. "Contact Gomorrah and tell them to have their squadrons ready within the next centar." "By your command, Baltar." On the Galactica's bridge, there was an air of somber quiet, as everyone realized that they were facing their most serious battle test since they'd fled the Colonies. And how they performed, would undoubtedly determine if they'd still be alive by this time tomorrow. "Commander." Tigh said quietly. "It's time we move in on Gomorrah. The Pegasus is standing by and waiting." Adama nodded and went over to Athena. "Instruct all tanker ships to prepare for maximum speed for Gomorrah. They're to rendezvous with us in standard orbit in exactly fifty centons from now." He consulted his chronometer. "If all goes well, we should have the depot secured and the base destroyed by then." "What about the rest of the Fleet, Father?" she asked with some trepidation. Adama sighed. "Tell the captains of all non-tanker ships that they're to hold their position for now, and wait. The Galactica and the Pegasus are temporarily withdrawing in order to solve the fuel situation." He took another breath. "Lord help us all that it's come to this." But when Adama moved over to the railing to give his next command, his order was firm and unhesitating. "Bring us to new heading for Gomorrah. Full speed!" "Full speed!" Omega repeated. As the battlestar picked up speed, Adama made his way back to Tigh. "What's the word on our assault team?" "They should be reaching the drop zone right now." "Right into the heart of a Cylon capital." Adama put his hands behind his back and warily shook his head again. "How did we ever become so desperate?" "Who knows?" the executive officer shrugged. "Maybe we just needed to find out again that we're still capable of rising to the occasion when survival is at stake." He turned and looked out the view screen and saw the stars race by as the Galactica now reached battle speed. "I have to admit though. It does feel kind of nice to do something other than running for a change." "Granted," Adama conceded. "But we can't let it come to this again. I don't know if this Fleet can stand up to any sustained challenges like this." "I thought men of faith like you were eternal optimists, Adama." Tigh smiled wryly, hoping it would break some of the tension. When Adama turned and smiled back, he realized it had. "Even men of faith are put to the test, and go through trying times that test that faith, Tigh." He reflected. "Somehow, true faith needs experiences like that. Blind faith just isn't enough." Adama then checked his chronometer again. "Phase one is about to begin." Sheba took her place next to Bojay as the six members of the team now waited for the red light to go on that would signal it was time for them to make their drop. Each person's expression was now deadpan and totally businesslike. Even Starbuck and Boomer found themselves too tense to crack a morbid joke as they might have ordinarily done on a mission of this magnitude. Apollo glanced toward the cockpit, where he could see the lights of Gomorrah through the window. It was a scene that almost put him in mind of flying over Caprica City at night. Clearly, there was major activity taking place on the surface tonight. I wonder what Cylons actually do on planets they have all to themselves? He wondered. It was always so difficult for Apollo to comprehend how Cylons spent their time once the battles were over and they had conquered territory. Even machines had to get bored after awhile, he felt. "Have their anti-assault scanners spotted us?" He called up to the attractive Sergeant Mackin, who was piloting the shuttle. "Not a peep from them, Captain," she shook her head and kept her eyes forward. "We should be at a low enough altitude to evade detection for the next few centons." Suddenly, a warning blip sounded. "Frack!" Mackin suddenly exclaimed. "What is it?" Starbuck called over with concern. "I got to unload you guys quick and high-tail it out of here." she said. "Because my scanner now shows a baseship coming in and headed for the Aerodrome." "Baseship?" Boomer blurted in disbelief. "Where did that come from?" "I have no idea. But she's on a descent track, clearly coming in for full landing." "It can't be from the task force." Starbuck was at a loss for words. "They haven't had time to send one of them this far over." "And even if it were, it's clearly not going into an attack position if it's about to land." Apollo rubbed his chin. "I think I know what it might be." Sheba said. "It might be----" Before she could finish her thought, the red-light went on. "We'll talk about that on the ground. We're at our drop point now." Apollo got to his feet. "Mackin, notify the Galactica about the baseship as soon as you're clear. Tell them the viper teams should drop some extra volleys on it to make sure it can't get airborne after they move in." "Will do." the shuttle pilot then turned around and flashed a thumbs-up sign. "Good luck, you guys." "We're going to need it." Starbuck managed to say, as he returned it. And then, he made another note that if Sheba was a total washout, and Cassiopeia was now in Cain's corner, Mackin at least still offered possibilities. He'd gone out with her once before and had found her to be good company. "Sheba, Bojay, we'll home in on you." Apollo said. "You two have the best chance of spotting the base." "We won't let you down." Sheba smiled reassuringly. Bojay was shaking his head. "If anyone ever told me that I'd be jumping out of a ship into the middle of the Cylon Empire on a covert mission, I'd tell them I had a better chance of inhaling plant vapors for the rest of my life." His remark broke the tension, and even Boomer found himself smiling at him. He had never recalled Bojay being that loose during his tour aboard the Galactica. Maybe this experience can finally change him too, he thought. The six members of the assault team moved into the individual chambers that lined the shuttle and would drop them into their freefall. Once they were in, Apollo pressed the button that caused a green light to flash on Mackin's console in the cockpit. She promptly flicked the switch, and with that, the assault team was on it's way to the surface of Gomorrah below. Even though Commander Keldor possessed one of the most prestigious honors in the entire Cylon Empire as commander of operations for Gomorrah, the IL Cylon was right now wishing he were a mere drone centurion instead. Were that the case, he would not be feeling the sensations of unease and worry pulsing through all his circuitry. And until the Imperious Leader had finished his inspection and left the quadrant without incident, those sensations were going to remain constant. The likelihood of an incident happening though, was all too probable to him. For more than a yahren and a half, he and his staff had seen their base suffer from raid after raid by Colonial vipers, and had also seen so many of their supply tankers and convoys intercepted and destroyed. And from the outset, Keldor had never bothered to inform the previous Imperious Leader or the current one, about the difficulty. For to acknowledge the problem of viper raids and convoy intercepts, would mean admitting a failure in his ability to keep the Gomorrah quadrant secure and make the outer capital a perfect example of Cylon order. And if his record of service ever showed such a failure, then he knew that his chances of ever being promoted to an even higher position would become non-existent. He had tried to contain the problem with his own forces, and sometimes the long periods between raids had convinced him that the danger was past. But then, like the return of a bad dream for humans, the vipers would return again. And all the while, they would inflict just enough damage to keep him from mounting a full-scale pursuit to find out where the vipers were coming from. Imperious Leader's message two sectars ago that he planned on visiting the outer capital had sent him into a state of shock. The last thing he needed to have was the Cylon ruler arrive on Gomorrah while the problem of the viper raids remained unsolved. Especially since he had earlier decided the matter could be kept secret forever. But he knew that if he tried to dissuade the Leader from coming, that too would raise troubling questions. So the only option was to hope that the Leader's visit would take place during one of the lull periods. No sooner did he finish his communique with Luna aboard Imperious Leader's baseship, then did another message arrive, which would shatter all of Keldor's hopes that the next few days would be a lull period. "Commander Keldor?" he heard the voice of an IL Cylon that resembled his own. "This is Lucifer, chief aide to Commander Baltar." "Hello Lucifer. It is an honor to communicate with you. I've heard much about you." "I thank you. I am afraid though, that a social call is not the purpose of this transmission. Our task force is in immediate need of assistance from all of your fighters." The base commander hesitated for a brief instant. "For what reason?" "They are needed for battle operations against the surviving remnants of Colonial civilization, which are at this very centon, traversing within the periphery of your quadrant." "The Battlestar Galactica?" he asked with surprise. "You have located her and her Fleet?" "Yes." "But why is assistance needed? If memory serves me correctly, your task force is comprised of three fully operational baseships. Surely that is enough for your needs." "Unfortunately, a disquieting development has taken place." the cordial edge faded from Lucifer's voice. "It would seem that the Galactica is not alone." "Not alone?" Across the stars, Lucifer was wondering if Keldor was trying to bluff his way out by pretending ignorance. If so, he wasn't believing it for an instant. It was all too clear that Keldor had to have had some inkling about the existence of the Pegasus after all this time. "No," Lucifer shook his bulbous head. "The Galactica has been joined by the Battlestar Pegasus." Keldor felt himself go into a state of near shock, when he heard his fellow IL's revelation. The thought that the viper raids had been coming from a surviving battlestar was something that had never once crossed his mind. And if that were the case, he now realized that the penalty for his silence would undoubtedly be the highest if something happened. "That is most disquieting." He finally replied. "But I am afraid that I can not accommodate your request at this time, Lucifer. We are presently engaged in ceremonial operations on behalf of the Imperious Leader, who is visiting the base." It was now Lucifer's turn to be surprised. "The Imperious Leader has come all the way out from Cylon?" "Yes. His baseship will be landing at the aerodrome within centons. And because of that, we will not be able to engage in normal flight operations at all for at least several centars." "Hmmm. Yes, that would present a problem, if the aerodrome must accommodate the baseship's arrival. Nonetheless----" "I am sorry Lucifer, but I cannot." Keldor said emphatically. "But why should it matter? It is still three to two. You still possess the sufficient strength to handle the crisis." "Theoretically," Lucifer conceded. "Still----" "I am afraid this transmission must cease. The Leader has landed and I must be at the colonnade for the ceremony in five centons. Please keep us informed of what happens during the battle, as I am certain the Leader would be overjoyed to receive news of the Galactica's final destruction during his visit." And then, Keldor abruptly shut the console off before Lucifer could say anything else. Were Keldor human, he might have felt the sensation of being sick as he turned away and prepared to depart for the colonnade. I've really dug myself in a proverbial hole, he thought. But if I had to spare my fighters now, the Leader would ask too many questions. Better that Baltar handle it with his numbers. That way, the Leader will hear only good news of the destruction and he won't ever have to know about what's gone on before. The only thing he took temporary solace in, was the news that an engagement was about to take place. At the very least, that meant that the likelihood of something happening here on Gomorrah right now, while the Leader was present, was now quite remote. All of the vipers that had been giving him trouble in the raids, were undoubtedly aboard the Pegasus now preparing themselves for a battle in the quadrant periphery. As soon as he stepped out of the Command Center into the cool night, he saw his command centurion Cobre approach. "I have heard from the aerodrome, Commander." He said in the lower tone drone of command centurions. "His Eminence, the Imperious Leader has landed and is on his way to the colonnade." "Then let us waste no time, Cobre," Keldor's tone was perfectly normal. "This is, after all, quite an auspicious occasion. How often is it that the Imperious Leader journeys so far out from Cylon?" Cassiopeia felt the briefest sensation of terror go through her body during the initial freefall from the shuttle. It finally passed, and she then trained her eyes on Bojay and Sheba who with their arms extended to control their direction, were moving into the position that would place them directly above the Command Center by the time they opened their float chute. She glanced over to her right and could see Starbuck falling alongside her, his arms also extended like the Pegasus warriors so he could follow their track. Then, she saw him hold up three fingers to indicate it was time for her to count backward and then open her chute. When she finished, she felt her arm shaking slightly as she pulled. And then, the wave of total relief as it opened and her descent slowed. Just microns later, the other members of the team activated theirs. The five warriors all had maneuvered themselves into position so that they would reach the ground ahead of the med-tech, as standard free-flight procedure dictated. The possibility of an armed centurion on the ground shooting up at them during descent meant that an armed warrior always had to be in lead position with non-combat personnel always at the rear of the formation. Sheba detached her laser pistol from her freeflight suit and held it at the ready as the Command Center loomed closer and closer beneath her. It was already clear to her that she was going to need to use it. She could see the unmistakable forms of three centurions patrolling in front of the building entrance. She glanced to her left and motioned her head at Bojay. Her fellow Pegasus warrior nodded back and detached his own pistol. Fifty feet above the ground, they opened fire. The first two centurions collapsed before they had a chance to look up. Only the third one had time to respond and raise his weapon to a firing position, but a shot from Apollo disposed of him before the centurion could fire. In less than ten microns, each member of the team hit the ground and detached their harnesses. "Okay, we'd better get moving." Apollo said. "Apollo, we're right next to their munitions bunkers," Bojay said as he removed his helmet. "If we moved in on them first, it might provide a good diversion before we move in on the command center." The captain hesitated slightly. "Is there time to do that?" "I think he's right, Apollo." Boomer said. "They're packed so close together, it shouldn't take much to blow all of them sky high. Then, they'll have to send all their detachments there and in the meantime the rest of us slip in and handle the command center." "And if I'm right about who's on that baseship, they'll really have to leave the command center unguarded if trouble starts brewing somewhere else." Sheba said as she also removed her helmet and dropped it to the ground, feeling glad that the tight headgear was off. Standing next to her, Cassiopeia promptly did the same. "Who do you mean?" "Who else would be on a baseship detached from the task force?" she smirked. "Only the top Cylon himself." The sudden dawning came over the rest of them. "How do you like that," Starbuck mused sadly. "So near to shooting his ugly head off, and yet so far, because we haven't got time to add assassination to our mission objective." "Quite true, Starbuck. Let's not waste another micron! Let's go!" Apollo barked as he and the rest of the team began to sprint toward the storage facility. As Keldor settled into his position at the head of the colonnade, he could see the vast throng of Cylons from all classes. Centurions. Command centurions. IL's. And even the shorter civilian class Cylon robots, who performed the task of running planets that had moved beyond the normal phase of military subjugation. All of them waiting to see the arrival of the one unique Cylon in the entire Empire, who alone among Cylons possessed the gift of a third computer brain as befitting his stature as their leader. First, the procession of the Leader's honor guard entered the colonnade, to the strains of a discordant fanfare. Then, came Luna, who came to a stop halfway up the procession line, while the honor guard took its place at the front. "To the citizens of Gomorrah," he spoke solemnly. "We present to you, our esteemed and noble ruler of the mightiest empire in the universe, His Eminence, the 27th Imperious Leader." And then, the sounds of the Cylon national anthem, which to a human ear would have sounded like the most unmelodic sound ever composed, filled the colonnade. Each Cylon head was now trained on the procession line, as the Cylon ruler entered and made his way up to the head of the line. Keldor bowed solemnly to him, and then stepped back to the front row of spectators, while the Leader sat down in a ceremonial chair, flanked on both sides by the members of his honor guard. "My fellow Cylons," he began in that powerful voice that had always been the voice for each Imperious Leader. It represented one of the greatest symbols of continuity in the Cylon Empire since the dawn of the machine Cylon race a thousand yahrens before. It had been the voice originally of the most revered figure among reptilian Cylons. The one who had made the technological breakthrough possible that had enabled the standard machine race of Cylons to be developed. And in the process, ensure the total downfall and destruction of the original race of living Cylons. "It is indeed a great honor for me to be present in this, the city and the planet that was once renowned throughout the universe as a center of cultural perfection. But which now, under our dominion, serves as a true center of cultural perfection. The perfection of Cylon culture and Cylon order." Each of the Cylons gathered began to nod their heads vigorously. In effect, the Cylon equivalent of thunderous applause. For the first time, Keldor began to feel more at ease. "Three high level charges along the periphery bunkers should do the trick," Apollo said as the group came to a stop at the base of the massive storage facilities for ammunition, which towered a good fifty feet above them, and were lined up in rows of five, extending ten rows deep in all. "I don't think so, Apollo," Bojay said. "We ought to set one other charge right smack in the middle. That can produce a more crippling blow." "That's true, Bojay, but it's also likely that there are still centurions patrolling the interior zones, and I'd rather we not risk showing our faces to them at this point. If one sees us before we see them, that's just enough time for them to put them on alert too soon." "Apollo-" Bojay started, feeling the tide of frustration from the earlier confrontation aboard the Pegasus start to return. But then, he stopped and just nodded. "Okay, I'll handle the far left periphery." He then dashed off. "Boomer, you and Starbuck handle the middle zone. Sheba and I will take the right periphery. As soon as you have your charges set, get back here fast. I want us to make our move on the command center just as they go off." Boomer and Starbuck both nodded and disappeared inside the first row of bunkers. Apollo and Sheba turned back toward the right flank, and then motioned Cassiopeia to follow. "Stay close, Cassie. And if you feel up to it----" Apollo tossed his laser pistol to her. "Watch our flank while we set the charges." The med-tech took the laser pistol and held it with the mark of a professional. "It'll be my pleasure, Apollo." As soon as Bojay reached the left edge of the periphery, he ducked in and promptly bypassed the first row of bunkers, which was where he should have placed the high level charge had he been following Apollo's orders. Instead, he penetrated further into the vast rows of bunker compartments, until he had reached the approximate center row of the entire line. Sorry Apollo, he said to himself as he knelt down by the base of one of the bunkers. But it has to be done this way for the whole thing to work. As he pulled out the high level charge and began applying it to the base, the memories of his three yahren tour aboard the Galactica came back to him in vivid detail. How Apollo had always annoyed him slightly with what Bojay felt was an air of self-righteousness. How Starbuck could on the one hand be great to be around, but then would leave Bojay infuriated with the brash warrior for making him the latest victim of his con games in gambling, or one of the practical jokes that Starbuck was known for pulling on fellow warriors. The sensitive streak in Bojay that made him uncomfortable with any bunk-room teasing or warrior practical jokes, was probably the ultimate reason why Bojay felt a sense of distance from his fellow warriors and why he was ultimately anxious to transfer to another battlestar. One part of him had realized that he needed to be less sensitive and more relaxed, but he'd also decided that as a matter of pride, he didn't want to do it on the Galactica and change just for the sake of impressing warriors he didn't feel close to, and had decided he didn't want to be close to. If anything, starting with a clean slate with a new group of warriors aboard another battlestar would give him a better outlet for changing. It turned out to be a wise move from his standpoint, because once he arrived on the Pegasus he made a careful effort to fit in with the veterans, and the end result had led to a different, more relaxed environment than the Galactica had ever been. He set the charge and activated the three centon delayed timer. Now, there was just one more charge to set nearby, and he'd be finished. "I've finished placing my charges," Sheba kept her tone low as she moved over to where Apollo was still working on placing one more charge. "Okay," he didn't turn around. "You go round everyone else up and get back to the main square in front of these bunkers where Cassiopeia is. I'll be there in another couple centons." "You're going to be leaving yourself unarmed since you gave Cassiopeia your laser pistol." an edge of concern crept into her voice. "It's nothing," he waved his hand as he kept working on the charge. "Just go round them up." After the most instantaneous hesitation, Sheba finally turned around and moved off to her left. Trying to keep herself at a controlled sprint so the sound of her footsteps weren't too loud, she passed the middle zone and noticed that Starbuck and Boomer were still working on the last of their charges. She decided to bypass them for the moment and head to the far left edge of the periphery where Bojay had gone. Reaching the spot parallel to the center and right zones where the charges had been set up, she already saw no sign of activity. Guess he's already made his way back, she thought as she then turned around and made her way back to the middle zone. When she arrived, Boomer was already on his feet, indicating that he was finished, while Starbuck remained hunched over one of the bunkers. Before Sheba could say anything, the blonde lieutenant finally rose. "That's it." He said without a trace of his customary humor as he got up and came over to them. "Where are the others?" "They're over this way." Sheba motioned as she led the two warriors back to where the bunkers ended and the main square began, that led across to the Command Center. Cassiopeia was still keeping a cautious eye as she held Apollo's laser pistol. When the three warriors arrived, they were just in time to see Apollo emerge from the far right periphery. "Where's Bojay?" Apollo Sheba asked. "I didn't see him at the periphery where you sent him. I thought he was already back here with you." "Oh frack." Apollo slapped his hand against his forehead. "He must have gone deeper into the bunker zone like he wanted to. Get out your miniscans and try to locate him." Sheba quickly unclipped the device from the side of her freeflight suit and began to train it to the left, towards the interior of the vast number of bunkers. "Got him! He's gone about five levels further in." "That crazy fool." Apollo muttered. "Readjust scan for Cylon presence." "Apollo!" Starbuck blurted. "There's one guard at least one level across from him." Before they could say anything else, they abruptly heard the sound of laser fire echoing through the towering bunker complexes. Apollo promptly dashed down to the left in the direction of where the shots came from. Sheba quickly followed him, and then after a slight hesitation, so did Cassiopeia. "Starbuck," Boomer said uneasily. "We can't wait for them if they don't get back here in the next two centons, because that's when all of these bunkers are going to blow sky-high." "Yeah," Starbuck gritted his teeth, "And we can't run the risk that the guard's already alerted the entire base to our presence. We've got to knock out those anti-assault batteries now." "Just the two of us?" "It's going to have to be. Come on Boomer, let's go." The two of them sprinted across the main square to the Command Center structure. Bojay had just finished attaching the last charge when he'd heard the sound of the centurion calling, "Halt!" With his laser pistol still in his holster, he'd had no time to react before the centurion fired one shot, that caught him squarely in the leg. The Pegasus warrior collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony from the pain that shot through his leg. Yet somehow, he managed to get his laser detached, and rolled to one side to evade the next shot from the Cylon. Finally, from his stomach he managed to point his weapon at the guard and get off one shot that struck the Cylon in the center of the face. It proved to be as equally an effective shot as a normal one aimed at the breastplate. "Bojay!" he could hear Sheba's alarmed voice and the sound of three sets of footsteps sprinting toward him. He rolled over to a sitting position, and clutching in agony at his leg, looked up at the approaching forms of Apollo, Sheba and Cassiopeia. "Get out of here!" he moaned. "Forget me, you can't get me out of here in time!" "Not a chance," Apollo said as he got to him first and then he and Sheba propped him up against one of the other bunkers. "Cassie, see what you can do for him." "All right. Just hold him still." The med-tech had already detached her kit from her freeflight suit and was already applying a makeshift tourniquet about the gaping wound in Bojay's leg. Blood oozed from the wound and was spreading rapidly underneath his freeflight suit. "Done. It's all I can do to just stop the bleeding." "Can't you give him anything for the pain?" Sheba asked with concern as she held up Bojay's head, his agonized expression sending a chill through her that she had come that close to losing someone she regarded like a brother. "If I do, he won't be able to walk." Cassiopeia said matter-of-factly. "And he has to if we're going to get out of here, right Apollo?" "Right," the captain took a quick check of his chronometer and then grabbed hold of Bojay's left shoulder.. "We've got exactly ninety microns to get to the other side of the main square or else we're going to get hit by all the flying debris when these things go off. Come on, let's get him up." The three of them managed to get Bojay to his feet and with Sheba and Apollo holding him by the shoulders they made their way out of the bunkers, wondering if they could get to safety before it was too late. As soon as Starbuck and Boomer forced their way inside the Command Center, they were both taken aback by the emptiness of the facility. There was not a single Cylon to be seen in any of the first five corridors they penetrated. "Where is everybody?" Starbuck whispered incredulously. "I never thought security would be this lax." "Remember what Sheba said about who that baseship belonged to?" Boomer pointed out. "If it's him, then I think Cylon discipline would require every Cylon on the planet to be where he is now." "Makes sense," Starbuck nodded. "Thank the Lords for Cylon discipline and honor." "Come on," Boomer motioned, "One more corridor and we'll be right next to the computer control banks for the batteries." Apollo could feel his heart pounding through his uniform as he and Sheba continued to assist the hobbling Bojay across the main square. Ahead of them, Cassiopeia had reached the other side and crouched herself behind the partition separating the Command Center from the main square. "Over here!" she motioned with the laser pistol Apollo had given her earlier. "We can take cover from the blast when those bunkers go!" Finally, after twenty agonizingly long microns, Apollo and Sheba reached the partition and helped Bojay to a sitting position. The simple act of bending his leg to get to a sitting position, caused him to let out another sharp grunt of pain. As Cassiopeia bent down to examine Bojay's wounds, Apollo looked at his chronometer and was just in time to see the time reach zero micron. "With this secure outpost, deep in the heart of the Cryllian star system, at the edge of charted space as we have known it, our supremacy as the masters of the universe as we have always defined it is secure. But for us, it can only remain a new beginning, and not a culmination. For ahead of us, lies that which will feel our terror as we continue to advance our superior might to the limits of infinity!" The heads of every Cylon went up and down again to express approval. To one side, Luna felt an air of self-congratulation that the Leader had chosen to heed his advice about what the speech needed to be about. On the other side, Keldor was feeling his lulled sense of ease increasing even more. Then, before the Leader could go on, the colonnade rumbled slightly as the sound of a nearby, and obviously powerful explosion filled the air. The shock wave caused several of the colonnade pillars to shake for a micron while small pieces of concrete were jarred loose. Before it had died down, Keldor felt his entire circuitry freeze up as he felt the sensations of horror and dread fill his two brains like never before. So great was his shock that he didn't even bother to stop himself from holding back the words forming in his speech center. "Uh oh." Imperious Leader abruptly rose from his seat and fixed his attention on the base commander. "What pray tell was that?" the Cylon ruler's words were cold, and filled with an equal mixture of surprise and displeasure. Hearing no response, he then inquired with greater coldness. "Commander Keldor, I asked you a question!" Finally, the base commander forced himself to look up at his ruler. Knowing full well that his fate was now sealed. "I......I do not know, Your Eminence." He managed to force his words out. "Then find out now!" Imperious Leader snapped. "Or I'll have you and your entire staff scavenged for spare parts within the centar!" "Yes, Your Eminence. Immediately, Your Eminence." Keldor bowed hastily and then motioned to Command Centurion Cobre. The two then left the Colonnade and headed in the direction of the Command Center. Inside the Command Center, Starbuck and Boomer could hear the explosions taking place outside. Only a faint satisfied grin on Starbuck's face indicated his reaction, and as soon as Boomer saw it, he then returned it, though his grin was noticeably weaker. "I hope they didn't caught up in any of that." The dark skinned warrior said with faint concern. "They didn't," Starbuck shook his head. "Failure is never an option with Apollo, Boomer. You know that as well as I do." His remark helped his friend relax slightly. "Yeah, you're right about that. Okay, looks as though we've reached the end of the corridor and all we've got to do now is carefully make our way in." After the force of the initial explosions from the bunkers died down, Apollo poked his head above the partition and saw that the falling debris had landed a safe distance away. "Okay," he got to his feet. "It's safe to proceed. We need to catch up with Starbuck and Boomer now. Sheba, help me get Bojay up." But as soon as the two warriors tried to lift him up to his feet, the Pegasus warrior let out his most agonized cry of pain yet. "No! Oh frack no, I can't go anymore, let me stay down." "Cassiopeia?" Apollo looked at the med-tech, who shook her head grimly when she saw more blood streaming from Bojay's wound. "He's right, Apollo. The sealed pressure on the artery is enormous and trying to run could cause the whole thing to rupture and then we run the risk of him bleeding to death." "Then I'll stay with him." Sheba said defiantly, her expression of concern for Bojay all too obvious. "I can keep him protected in case any patrols wander by here." Cassiopeia then grabbed Sheba by the arm and looked at her with determination. "No, Sheba. You're needed with Apollo. Let me stay with him. I know how to treat his wounds better anyway." "She's right," Apollo said emphatically. "We haven't much time before the Fleet arrives and launches her attack. Still feel up to handling that laser?" "I am," the med-tech nodded and held it up with determination. "You just worry about the Galactica," she then turned back to Sheba, "And the Pegasus." An expression of silent understanding passed between the two women at that instant. An understanding that for the both of them, should they make it out of this ordeal, theirs would be a changed relationship from what it had been only a centar earlier. Finally, Sheba rose and then followed Apollo up the stairway that led to the open door Starbuck and Boomer had earlier forced open. Chapter Eight As the two battlestars continued their approach toward Gomorrah, Adama could feel the greatest sense of apprehension he'd ever known in his life. Already, he'd had to confront the tortured feelings of wondering if the civilian ships of the Fleet left behind during this engagement might soon be subjected to a rain of fire that would consume them all in microns. Then, the apprehensions over whether the commando raid would successfully perform its mission and assure an easy victory at Gomorrah. Now, the latest news he had received from Sergeant Mackin aboard the returning commando shuttle had only increased that apprehension. "Get me Commander Cain!" he'd barked the instant he'd heard Mackin's report. It only took another micron before the Juggernaut's confident face filled the screen. "Yes, Adama?" "Cain, I've just heard an alarming report from the shuttle that brought in our commando team. A baseship has landed on Gomorrah." To Adama's surprise, Cain did not seem shocked or particularly amazed by the report. "Obviously not part of the taskforce, and if it's on the ground it's totally useless to them from a defense operations standpoint." "That isn't the point, Cain," Adama said with a faint testy edge. "If it's not part of the taskforce, then where did it come from and did you know it was going to be there?" "I knew one was scheduled to arrive sometime within the next sectar," Cain said. "We'd only broken part of their code and it referred to an impending visit by the Imperious Leader at some point to inspect the garrison. We hadn't deciphered it enough to fix the date though." "Why did you withhold this information from me?" Adama demanded. "I deemed it insufficient and immaterial to the immediate issue at hand, Adama." Cain didn't bat an eye. "The purpose of our raid is to get what we want from Gomorrah before we leave the quadrant forever. If it seemed to me that the Leader's visit wasn't to be until some later date, then it had no business factoring into the decision making at all." Adama was on the verge of asking another harsh question, but stopped himself just in time when he remembered that even if his hunch was right, this wasn't the time to argue with the Juggernaut about it. If there were to be any repercussions arising from this development, it could only take place after the battle was over. But even then, the flush of success would probably keep Adama from taking any necessary disciplinary action against the Juggernaut. "We will discuss this another time." Adama said. "As far as our current battle plan goes, I want your squadrons to increase their assault on the aerodrome so there's no question of that baseship being unable to get off the ground once this starts." "No problem, Adama. Just so long as some of my boys get their licks in on the depot area. Cain out." The Galactica commander shook his head in disbelief as he made his way over to Tigh, who had heard everything and had the same expression. "Tigh," Adama said, "For the first time I think I know why he was entertaining delusions of securing the entire planet. If he thought that could be done before an arrival of the Imperious Leader for an inspection visit, then once the Leader arrived he'd be walking into an armed assassination and thus, the Cylon Empire could theoretically be thrown into chaos." "And therefore turn the tide of the war in Cain's mind." Tigh sighed. "Adama, I sometimes think the man must be humanity's most insane genius. It's just the kind of irresponsible thinking you could expect from him, and yet....." "And yet, how can anyone argue if the Imperious Leader just happens to be part of the collateral damage we end up inflicting in this campaign?" Adama finished the thought. "Commander," Omega called over. "Approaching to outer level of Gomorrah system. We can now take scanning results for the next centon before we reach the area where they can begin scanning us in return." "Concentrate full scan now." Adama said as he and Tigh came over to Omega's station. The commander and executive officer stared intently at the readout and then both of them felt an edge of slight relief as they saw a readout that they knew right away indicated good news. "Clear indications of seismic disturbances caused by explosions on the surface." Tigh noted. "Looks as though the assault team's made it so far." "No indication yet though whether they've taken care of the anti-assault batteries," Adama cautioned. "Those indications look more like they sabotaged a fuel bunker or an ammunition depot." "Do we launch now and take advantage of whatever it is they've done now?" "No," the commander shook his head. "We wait until we're certain that they've destroyed their anti-assault batteries. If we don't get confirmation of that from our scans of the planet, then we should know in the next five centons when we're inside their own scanning range. If everything's quiet on their end at that point, then we launch." An agitated Keldor entered the Command Center where he saw his entire staff busily at work. "I want some answers now!" the base commander demanded. A deputy command centurion came to attention. "Patrols along the ammunition bunkers do not answer. Evidently destroyed by saboteur fire." "That's all too evident, isn't it?" Keldor retorted. "Now I want some more definite answers than that. Have you found these saboteurs and killed them?" "Negative." "Then why aren't you devoting all your energies to that?" "Situation still critical with bunker fires. Maintenance support teams must extinguish the fires to prevent spreading to the Command Center." "The longer those saboteurs aren't apprehended, you're putting the Command Center at greater risk than the fires are. Now send every centurion out immediately and find them!" Before the deputy command centurion could carry out the order, another centurion abruptly spoke up. "Long range scanner picking up signs of intrusion in our quadrant." "What intrusion?" Keldor snapped with increased agitation. "The task force under the command of Baltar is nearby. Don't waste time with that." "It is not the task force." The agitation was suddenly replaced by the Cylon equivalent of a chill sweeping through the IL's sensors. "Scan for identification." his tone was suddenly quiet as he realized immediately what it meant. The Colonial battlestars were now approaching the planet. "Standby all ground anti-assault batteries and alert the aerodrome to launch all available interceptors." One level above the Command Center, on a platform overlooking the complex, Boomer and Starbuck were both crouched on the floor to stay out of sight of the Cylons below, but still able to hear everything that was being said. "You hear that?" Starbuck whispered. "We've got to move now before that order gets carried out." "Agreed." Boomer whispered back as he then activated a quick charge that would go off in fifteen microns. He quickly got to his feet and tossed it over the ledge where it clattered to the floor. "What was that?" Keldor responded to the sound. "Intruder alert!" the deputy command centurion intoned as his robotic eye suddenly caught sight of Boomer trying to get back down. He unleashed his laser and got off one shot that missed. Then, both Starbuck and Boomer shot up and unleashed return fire that took care of the deputy command centurion and another three centurions. As soon as Starbuck finished with his round, he detached another quick charge and hurled it over the side. Then, the two warriors bid a hasty retreat back down the corridor. Below them, Commander Keldor's eyes had focused on the two quick charges lying a few feet away from him. He knew right away what they meant and he knew that if he moved quickly, he still had a chance to get out of the Command Center before they went off. But the IL already knew that would only be delaying the inevitable. There was no question that the Imperious Leader had already determined his fate. Instead, he stood where he was......and waited calmly for the end. "I hope those two charges were enough," Starbuck said as he and Boomer sprinted back down the corridor, away from the Command Center. After they had gone halfway, they abruptly stopped when they saw Apollo and Sheba approaching. "Did you find the Command Center?" Apollo asked urgently. "We found it all right." Boomer said. "Where?" Before either warrior could reply, the sound of a loud, fiery explosion erupted from down the corridor causing the floor beneath them to shake violently. As soon as it died down, Starbuck sheepishly grinned and pointed behind him. "There." "Well done," Apollo said with relief and checked his chronometer. "The Galactica and Pegasus should be in range any micron now, so let's get to the rendezvous point and hope that shuttle's waiting for us." "Lead the way, buddy." Boomer said as the four warriors sprinted for the exit. "We're within scanning range, Commander," Omega reported. "No sign of defensive activity on Gomorrah." "Adama," Tigh said, "We can't delay launching even if they do know we've arrived. We have to take advantage of the fact that they don't have any ships off the ground yet." Adama slowly nodded. "Agreed. Launch all squadrons immediately. Athena, notify the Pegasus and tell Commander Cain to have his squadrons join up with ours. Priority to be given to the aerodrome and the quadrant surrounding the fuel depot. Stand by all ground assault teams for immediate action on the surface once we've secured the area." Aboard the Pegasus, Cain had felt himself pacing back and forth for the last three centons waiting for the order to arrive from the Galactica that the assault was to begin. If it had been up to him, he would have already had his squadrons away, but at this point he had already decided he wasn't about to arouse any further suspicion in Adama. He would wait until Adama gave the order. To break some of the inner tension, he decided to get in a quick word with his daughter, who would at this moment be standing by waiting to lead Silver Spar group in. "Cain to Silver Spar leader," he said as he flicked the switch on his personal console. "Just wishing you some last centon luck that it'll be a good strike." There was an awkward silence on the other end and then a male voice replied uneasily, "Uh....thank you Commander." The Juggernaut frowned. "Identify yourself." "Uh....this is Lieutenant Skyler, sir." "Where's Sheba?" a wave of concern shot through Cain. "Uh....she and Bojay never returned from the Galactica. I.....well, I assumed you already knew that, but for now I'm the acting strike leader." "I.....see," Cain bit his lip, wondering what in the world had happened. "Well, anyway, the Lords be with you all, Skyler. Do us all proud." "Thank you sir. We will." Cain shut off the intercom and shook his head as though he were in a daze. Then, he suddenly realized that if Sheba and Bojay hadn't returned from the Galactica, then they could only have stayed aboard for one reason. To take part in the commando raid on Gomorrah. He calmly took a breath and made sure there wasn't a hint of emotion on his face as he made his way over to Tolen's console. "Commander," the executive officer looked up. "We've just received word from the Galactica that she's launching her fighters. She wants us to proceed immediately." In an instant, the air of exhilaration had returned to the Juggernaut's face. "At last. Good, good!" he grinned and pumped his fist into the air. "Launch all fighters immediately!" In the colonnade, Imperious Leader had remained seated in his special throne chair waiting for Commander Keldor to return with some news. But after five centons, the sound of explosions had increased and there was still no word. "Your Eminence," Luna came up to him with an air of uneasiness. "It might be wise for you to return to the command ship immediately." "Not until I get some information from the commander of this infernal operation!" the Leader snapped. "If he's allowed saboteurs to infiltrate this base, he's to be executed right on the spot!" "Agreed, but----" Before the IL Cylon could finish the sentence, a loud alarm siren filled the colonnade. "What is happening now?" the Leader got to his feet. Just then, command centurion Cobre emerged, moving at a quick pace to where the Cylon ruler stood. "By your command. We are under viper attack. Commander Keldor has been killed as the result of sabotage to the Command Center." Imperious Leader stared at him with what would have been a dubious expression if his face were capable of shifting. Then, without saying a word, he calmly motioned to the two centurions from his honor guard standing alongside him. The two centurions promptly opened fire on Cobre, and the gold plated centurion collapsed to the ground. "We must return immediately to the command ship!" the Leader commanded to his aide. And then, he turned to the rest of the Cylon crowd that had gathered. "The rest of you get back to your posts immediately and take up defensive positions against this attack!" The Cylons, centurions, IL's and civilian class, all began to scatter about in clusters of a dozen each. The honor guard promptly moved alongside Imperious Leader as the Cylon ruler moved out at a brisk pace with his aide trailing. Bojay let out another sharp moan of agony as Cassiopeia and Sheba both settled him to the ground in a sitting position once again. The commando team had now reached the rendezvous point in the landing zone five hundred metrones in back of the now burning Command Center and two hundred metrones from the Fuel Depot. "We're in luck," Apollo said with relief. "It seems like the entire guard for the depot was already out of the area for the ceremony. That means we've got the perimeter of it secured without having to fire a shot." "That's my kind of battle." Boomer said. "Short and painless." "Just a question now of waiting for the ground assault units to arrive here after the vipers are through and then the shuttle picks us up." "I hope they don't take forever," Starbuck gritted his teeth as he checked his chronometer. "The sooner I say goodbye to this planet, the happier I'll be." "Just keep standing guard and watch out for any new Cylon patrols." Apollo warned. He then glanced skyward and could see the unmistakable sights of vipers flying through the night sky, their red bursts of laser fire streaking downward as they engaged in strafing run after strafing run over the city. "Well, I guess the boys up there are finding out that we're not so indispensable after all," Boomer noted as he watched two vipers come in on a downward angle, opening fire directly at the heart of the city, several kilometers away. "They seem to be doing just fine without us." "'The boys' up there, Lieutenant?" Sheba turned around from where she'd been ministering to Bojay's wounds and said dryly. "Does that mean the world of viper pilots is an exclusive male domain on your ship?" Boomer blinked slightly in disbelief, while Apollo could feel a smile of admiration coming over him. "Uh....no," the dark-skinned warrior said. "No, it's just ah.......well figure of speech." "And all the time, I thought the battle of Kobol eliminated that kind of figure of speech from your vocabulary, Boomer." Cassiopeia couldn't help but chime in even as she bent down to reseal the wound on Bojay's leg that had already come undone after the long, difficult walk from the command center. Already, she was fast learning why a dangerous situation like this often called for some dark humor to release the tension. "How's Bojay doing?" Apollo came over to them and glanced down. The Pegasus warrior was now too filled with pain to even try to speak. "If Bojay isn't hooked up to a Life Station unit in the next centar, he could lose his leg altogether," the med-tech was blunt. "And the danger from infection to the rest of the body could make things a lot worse." "Okay, don't worry. It shouldn't be that long." Apollo leaned forward and patted Bojay's shoulder. "I'm going to see to it you get yourself a Bronze Cluster for this, Bojay. You were right to go for the dead center of the ammo depot. It seems to have left them more staggered on the ground." Bojay, his eyes shut and his face still twisted in pain, managed to nod his head to indicate his understanding. As the dark-haired captain got to his feet, he glanced skyward and could see more of the vipers coming in for strafing runs. Right now, he realized that Captain Taggs of Red Squadron would be leading all the Galactica flyers at this point. He could only hope that Red Leader's performance was far better than it had been in the last battle. He still wished he'd had a chance to talk to his father about that matter, but events had escalated too fast for him to deal with that situation in an orderly manner. He then became aware of Sheba standing next to him. And to his amazement, he felt the briefest sensation of a tingle going through his body. "Something bothering you, Apollo?" "No," he shook his head and shook the sensation off. "No, just....thinking about the mission and the battle." "I owe you an apology, Apollo." Sheba said. "What you said to me about Cassiopeia......well, you were right." He seemed mildly surprised. "I'm.....glad to hear that." "This certainly does count as one of those cleansing experiences you talked about." Sheba leaned back against the railing surrounding the landing zone and looked up at the vipers that were still continuing their strafing runs. "I just hope we can get off this planet in time before it's too late for Bojay." the edge of concern returned to her voice. "Don't worry," Apollo said reassuringly. "The way things look, I think the assault troops should be on their way any micron now." "Adama, our fighters report no opposition from the ground. The area around the fuel depot is now completely devastated and that means any Cylons around the depot would be cut off from reinforcements on the other side." Tigh came over to them, an edge of exhilaration in his voice for the first time. "What about the baseship on the ground?" "Captain Taggs says that the baseship was knocked off its mooring tether by combined assault, and will be unable to get airborne capacity until the Cylons find time to repair the tether and use gravitator hydraulics to get the baseship off the surface." "In short, she's been rendered totally inoperable." Adama said with relief and allowed the same faint edge of exhilaration to enter his voice. "It's time we put phase two into effect. Launch all ground assault units immediately and instruct all tanker support ships to move into position. We're going in and raiding that fuel depot for as long as we possibly can. Inform the Pegasus to move ahead of us and provide screening support for the tankers while we attend to recovery of our vipers. As soon as they're aboard, have them rearmed immediately. Those Cylon baseships are going to be throwing everything they have at us." Aboard the command baseship, Baltar had done nothing but brood in the silent solitude of his main throne room, keeping the chair at ground level instead of on the high perch, as he waited for his deputy to return with new information. The earlier rationalization of how he would be able to salvage the triumph he'd dreamed endlessly of for sectans had now faded, and it had now reached a point where only results would restore his earlier sense of confidence. As soon as Lucifer entered the chamber, he promptly addressed the IL Cylon. "Are our ships ready to launch the final assault against the Galactica and Pegasus?" "There is a problem," Lucifer said as he came to a stop three feet from the traitor. "I don't want to hear about any problems." Baltar snapped, "We have them where we want them. Now launch!" "But they aren't where we want them." "What do you mean, 'they aren't where we want them'?" the traitor almost felt the urge to reach out and rip the IL's head out from the socket. "They are at this centon, over Gomorrah." "What?!" Baltar was thunderstruck. "Blowing the pogees out of it, if reports coming in are accurate." Lucifer added, deciding that a metaphor he'd learned from Starbuck during the Galactica warrior's imprisonment aboard the baseship before the Battle of Kobol seemed appropriate. The traitor's bewilderment was then replaced by an ironic grin. "The fact that Gomorrah is being attacked is perfect!" "Baltar----" Lucifer started. "Don't you see, it means the Colonial Fleet is completely unprotected!" Baltar plowed on, his grin widening. "Launch a killer force at once." The IL Cylon stood motionless. "Didn't you hear me? I said destroy the Fleet!" "There is something else you should know, Baltar." Lucifer felt an almost malicious edge of satisfaction inside him as he knew he was going to thoroughly enjoy the change that was about to take place on Baltar's face. "The reports we've been receiving from Gomorrah, are coming from Chief Administrator Luna." Baltar stared at him in blank incomprehension for a micron, and then slowly, his face dropped in stunned disbelief, just as Lucifer had hoped, as he realized what that meant. "Chief Administrator Luna," he whispered. "But he's the..." he stopped, unable to go further. "Yes," Lucifer nodded. "The Imperious Leader's chief aide. It seems that this evening, a special envoy mission headed by His Eminence arrived at Gomorrah to conduct an inspection tour. The Leader was in the very middle of his speech when the attack began." Baltar slowly rose from his chair. "Where is Imperious Leader now?" "According to Chief Administrator Luna, he was evacuated safely to his command ship at the aerodrome, but due to the bombings, has been left in a most uncomfortable situation for now. His command ship is unable to leave the surface." Baltar found himself staring at the ground, trying to cope with the enormity of another shock to the system. First the sudden arrival of the Pegasus. And now, the immediate presence of the one person in the entire Cylon Empire who could decide his fate, subjected to an indignation that would not be forgotten easily. "The Chief Administrator did not say anything specific," Lucifer went on, still enjoying every micron of the occasion. "But I think it would be safe to assume that His Eminence's reaction to the news that the base on which he is standing, is being destroyed by two ships that you had within your grasp only this morning could not possibly be favorable in the least." "This is unbelievable," Baltar was still too shaken to think of a retort. "Prudence would therefore dictate that we rush immediately to our Leader's defense." "Yes, yes!" the traitor nodded vigorously. "Send everything we have to destroy those two battlestars. And let not a single ship return until that's accomplished!" "By your command." Lucifer bowed, feeling content with himself for the first time in many sectans as he turned and departed. The sights and sounds of the explosions continued to fill the sky so much that at first Apollo didn't hear the sound of the shuttle coming in on a descent approach toward the rendezvous position. Only when he saw Starbuck wave his arms skyward and saw relieved expressions come over Sheba and Cassiopeia, did he finally look up and see the craft just fifty metrones away, extending its ground brakes and coming to a stop. The hatch opened and fifteen armed Colonial Security Guards from the ground assault team emerged with their weapons at the ready. "Sheba, Cassie, take Bojay and get him aboard!" Apollo motioned. The two of them lifted Bojay to his feet and slowly dragged him across the compound toward the waiting hatch. They had to stop briefly to avoid colliding with several more Security Guards who continued to emerge from the shuttle with their weapons drawn. A muscularly built sergeant came up to where Apollo, Boomer and Starbuck were standing and promptly saluted. "At ease, Castor," Apollo said. "How many of you?" "Twenty-five in this shuttle, and we should have another two hundred on the ground in the next ten microns." "Okay, great. Take up positions around the depot perimeter and keep your eyes peeled. We managed to neutralize all of them inside the perimeter but they should be able to regroup with some reinforcements within the next centar or two. It might be a good idea to keep the fire going as a natural barrier to buy us some more time but make sure it doesn't get out of control and threaten the depot itself." "We can keep the zone clear until tomorrow morning if we have to." the Guard said. "So long as the tankers have cover, we can have this depot empty by then." "I know you can do it, Castor. Boomer, you and Starbuck will stand by here to monitor the situation for the next couple centars----" "Wait a centon," Starbuck held up a hand. "Sorry, Apollo but you think I'm going to stay down here and miss all the fun? We've got to be ready to regroup for when Baltar's task force heads back this way." "That goes for me too," Boomer said defiantly and turned to Castor. "You Security guys are too good to need us watching over you, Castor." he patted the guard on the shoulder. "Knock em' dead." The security guard grinned and moved off to join the rest of the assault team. Apollo was shaking his head dubiously. "You know, I can put the both of you on report for that stunt you just pulled." "Aw, c'mon Apollo," Starbuck said sheepishly. "Let us volunteer for dangerous work for a change instead of you drafting us." The blonde lieutenant's remark made Apollo give in and chuckle. "All right, 'volunteers', move out!" The three of them dashed across into the shuttle. As soon as they were inside, the hatch closed and the shuttle's engines had started. Within microns, they were off the surface and climbing into the upper atmosphere of Gomorrah. Apollo was leaning back against the compartment wall with a sense of relief that the assault mission was over. It had not gone as smoothly as he had hoped it would, thanks to Bojay's injury, but it had been a total success in terms of mission objective. Even so, Apollo didn't feel the sense of euphoria he might have ordinarily felt, as had been the case at Arcta several sectars ago when they had destroyed the Ravashol Pulsar. And the reason was that he knew this particular mission wouldn't have been necessary had it not been for Commander Cain's actions the previous day. He glanced over at Sheba again, who was still attending to Bojay with Cassiopeia. And once again, he wondered if it was going to be possible for the Galactica and the Pegasus to co-exist over the long haul. "Pegasus Core Command, this is Alpha Strike Team Shuttle requesting immediate landing clearance in Beta Bay." Sergeant Mackin spoke up from her position in the cockpit. Apollo abruptly snapped to. "Wait a centon, Mackin. Why are we headed for the Pegasus?" The shuttle pilot ignored him at first as she listened to the reply over her headset. "Thank you Core Command, I'm now assuming approach heading for arrival in three centons." "Mackin?" Apollo got out of his chair and moved toward her. "Answer me, why are we headed for the Pegasus?" Mackin turned around for only a brief instant. "Orders, Captain." she then went back to the controls. "Whose orders?" "Mine, Apollo," Cassiopeia rose. "Yours?" Apollo stared dubiously at her. "Under what authority?" "It's a medical emergency, Apollo. Bojay needs to be hooked up to a Life Station unit fast and the Pegasus is the closest battlestar. As soon as Mackin told us they were closest when we got aboard, I told her to head straight for there. Under all medical statutes, that's the only decision we can make." Apollo stared at both Cassiopeia and Sheba with slight skepticism, as was Starbuck and Boomer. "Mackin, is that true?" he cautiously asked the shuttle pilot, without turning around. "Yes, Captain it is. The Galactica asked the Pegasus to provide screening for the tankers as they move in. The Galactica would mean another five centons flight time." "Okay, thanks. Carry on." "Captain, I don't think I like the implication that I made my decision based on anything other than a genuine medical emergency." an air of frost came over the med-tech's voice. "I never implied that, and if I did, I apologize." Apollo held up his hand reassuringly. "I just----" he then saw the expression on Sheba's face, which was also noticeably cold. "Forget it. Just....carry on." He then went back to the other side of the compartment and sat next to Boomer, who seemed slightly ashamed for having shared the captain's inner skepticism. "Sheba, you can give Bojay another painkiller." Cassiopeia said quietly and then went over to the other side where Starbuck was. "Hey, ah Cass.....look, I know that it's Bojay you're thinking of first. We all know that." he said gently, still feeling slightly awkward over the harsh words they'd exchanged before the mission. "I'm glad," Cassiopeia said and then she awkwardly glanced at the floor. "But....I have to tell you this, Starbuck. I....haven't.....well, decided yet about.....well, you know." Starbuck sighed and gently put his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, I know that too. I mean," he managed to grin, "Everyone's entitled to a little confusion in their lives. I mean.....well, I practically thrive on it." She managed to smile back and they leaned forward to share a quick kiss on the lips. Cassiopeia then went back over to rejoin Sheba, leaving Starbuck wondering if that was the last time he'd ever get to kiss Cassiopeia that way. He'd meant what he'd said though. He'd undoubtedly been putting Cassiopeia through the same kind of experience for sectans when he was still trying to juggle a fading relationship with Athena and the new one with Cassiopeia. And before that, it had been juggling Aurora and Athena. The last thing he could do was let himself feel bitter that he was now on the receiving end of that kind of situation for the first time. What Starbuck didn't know though, was whether he could hold back any feelings of bitterness if he ended up being on the losing end of the equation. Especially when Cassiopeia had brought out feelings and emotions within him that no other woman had been able to do before. "Is he resting now?" Cassiopeia asked as she resumed her place by Bojay's side. "Yes, he's asleep." Sheba nodded, her expression slightly quizzical over the scene between Cassiopeia and Starbuck that she'd witnessed. "Will he be okay?" "If he's hooked up to that unit in thirty centons, then his chances should be good." The med-tech leaned down to take another pulse reading. "Cassiopeia," Sheba asked uneasily, "I don't mean to pry, but.....are you and Starbuck....." she trailed off. Cassiopeia smiled as she continued to take readings. "Yes, we have been something of an item for awhile now. Your father's return has kind of......complicated that, and it's not an easy question for me to resolve." Sheba shook her head in amazement as she finally realized why Starbuck had been so anxious to make his sly proposition before the mission. "Have you had this kind of problem, Sheba?" Cassiopeia decided to see if it was safe to make conversation with her now, after the clearing of the air they had gone through earlier. "No," she shook her head. "No, I......well I haven't had time for anything like that." "It's not an enviable position to be in, I can tell you that." "Well, if you ever need to----" she broke off and then Cassiopeia looked up at her. "I mean, well.....if you ever need to just talk to someone about that, I'm....well, I'm willing to listen." Sheba paused and then her tone grew more firm. "As a friend, that is." Cassiopeia felt a sense of relief come over her. If there needed to be any sign that what they'd experienced together on Gomorrah would endure beyond that, she'd now been given one. "Thanks, Sheba. I appreciate that." From the front, Mackin spoke up. "Okay everyone, strap yourselves in. We'll be landing in half a centon." "We've begun recovery operations, Adama," Cain said with beaming confidence. "The first tanker is now loaded to top capacity and the second should start taking on her load in a few centons." "No sign of any ground based ships harassing operations?" Adama kept his tone cautious. "None whatsoever." Cain shook his head and then paused, "Adama, I think it wise if at this time, the Galactica move in to relieve us. We after all, are going to have to withdraw soon for our battle action against Baltar's task force." "Yes, I understand. I need to have my own solium storage tanks topped off anyway so I might as well see to that too." The Galactica commander then paused. "Cain, I do hope our understanding is quite clear." "Quite clear, Adama," Cain disarmingly waved his swagger stick. "As soon as you've closed down operations on Gomorrah I'll be rejoining you and the rest of the Fleet and then we'll have what we need to put the Cylons behind us for sectans at least." "Very well. You can begin withdrawing from Gomorrah orbit, Cain." "Affirmative. Cain out." As soon as the Juggernaut had switched off the monitor com-line, he took a breath and calmly went to the command deck of the bridge on the upper level. For a long centon, he stood in front of the navigation board, staring at the screen with intense concentration. "Sir," Tolen approached him. "Long range scanners are picking up an unbelievable number of enemy craft headed our way." Cain turned away from the board and looked Tolen in the eye. "Prepare coordinates to intercept, Colonel." "And then we lead them off?" The Juggernaut shook his head. "I mean intercept and go through them, Colonel." Tolen was slightly taken aback, not sure if he'd heard right. "Through them, sir?" "Yes," Cain pointed his swagger stick at the board. "Straight through their fighters, and through their lead baseships, right to Baltar's own at the back end of the task force where that cowardly snitrod is no doubt keeping himself all safe and secure." The executive officer felt a sick sensation go through his stomach. Already, Cain was at it again, preparing to undertake a new, reckless gambit that ran contrary to the orders that had been issued by the Fleet Commander. And this time, the odds seemed as potentially dangerous as they had been two yahrens before at Molocay. For a brief instant, Tolen felt a protest forming on his tongue. And then, it quickly passed as it always had whenever he had felt a gut instinct that maybe Cain wasn't suggesting a wise course of action. What made it worse for Tolen was that he knew all too well that it only made him seem to be exactly the kind of obedient yes-man that everyone in the Fleet viewed him as. Why can't I ever find my voice to speak up? He asked himself. Why does Cain instill such fear and awe in me? It's always been that way for yahrens. Ever since I first joined this ship as a pilot. Sadly, Tolen knew that if he wasn't going to challenge Cain then he couldn't waste time pondering the reasons why. Instead, he dutifully bowed and headed for the steps that would take him down to the lower level of the bridge. Only to find himself face to face with Apollo, who had finished mounting them and was staring placidly at him. The executive officer had just enough time to see what was on the captain's mind and quickly moved past him and down the steps. As Cain saw Apollo approach him, the Juggernaut's expression grew tight-lipped, as though he wasn't anticipating having to explain himself to Adama's son just yet. Especially since the previous day's events had already indicated that Apollo wasn't apt to support this sudden change in plans. "You heard everything, Captain?" he asked in a neutral tone. "I did," Apollo nodded. "If you're correct about Baltar being at the rear end of the task force, then as soon as he realizes that you're after his hide, he'll immediately recall all his fighters from Gomorrah." "I know something about Baltar," Cain said. "And believe me, if he's in charge of that task force, he's at the rear end of it where he can't risk putting his neck in the line of fire." "Yes, I'd agree with that assessment," Apollo conceded, keeping his tone deferential, but in a very guarded way. "It is a good plan......if it works." He purposefully paused in between the phrases of his last sentence. The old, disarming air of the Juggernaut promptly returned to Cain. "My plans always work, Captain. Incidentally, what brings you aboard the Pegasus?" "Well sir, yours was the closest battlestar I could return to with the wounded." "Ah yes." Cain felt the air of tension he'd felt before return to him. "Captain, did my daughter and Bojay accompany you on that mission?" "Yes sir, they did." Apollo wasn't surprised that Cain had deduced that, since he would have had to have become aware of the absence of his two strike leaders during the viper raids on Gomorrah. "Bojay took a wound to the leg. Your daughter and Cassiopeia are both fine." "Cassiopeia went with you too?" Cain's brow knotted. "Yes. She handled herself well though, and if she hadn't accompanied us it might have been worse for Bojay." He paused. "Sheba hadn't told you ahead of time, I take it." "No," he shook his head. "Like father, like daughter." Apollo knew that he was probably committing a breach in protocol with that remark, but he decided to say it anyway, knowing that Cain would probably just nod in agreement. Cain did exactly that and then straightened himself. "Well anyway, your mission was a big success. They weren't able to get one ship off the ground and we didn't lose anybody." He paused. "How is Bojay?" Apollo decided that the time had come to stop being deferential. "Well sir, that depends on this plan of yours." he took a breath and pressed on. "I thought the idea was to divert Baltar's forces, not attack them head on." "Strategy, Captain. Strategy," Cain nonchalantly waved his swagger stick and moved away from Apollo to the other side of the command level. "And as for Bojay, he'll be shuttled to the Fleet just as soon as we're passed Baltar's taskforce." "Don't you mean if we get by Baltar's taskforce?" Apollo's voice rose angrily as he followed Cain. "We're going to be outgunned three to one." Cain ignored him and looked down at Tolen, who was hunched over his monitor. "Status report, Colonel?" "We have to increase to attack speed now if we're going to intercept Baltar's ships before they reach Gomorrah, Commander." "Thank you. Go to attack speed in three centons." He turned back to Apollo, "If you're leaving for the Galactica, Captain, this is your last chance. I wouldn't waste another micron." Cain started to walk away from him, and again Apollo moved after him. "Sir!" he protested. "Since the Galactica only has one landing bay back at full operational status, half of my squadron is still aboard the Pegasus, and I'm not about to leave myself when I have them to consider." "That's quite admirable of you, Captain." "Sir, I just hope you realize how many brave young warriors, who've already had to overexert themselves in two battles this past cycle, might not be able to survive another head on clash with the Cylons." "I'm willing to put it to them on a voluntary basis. Whoever wishes to leave the Pegasus is free to do so immediately, Captain." Apollo didn't know if he felt more angry or helpless at this point. "Sir, my men are no different from yours. They think of you as some kind of legend as much as your own warriors do, and that's going to influence them heavily!" Cain half-smiled and shrugged. "Well, they can all take heart in the fact that I do know how to win a battle." He then turned away from Apollo again. At that instant, Apollo hit the breaking point as it all became clear to him as to why Cain was proceeding with this dangerous assault, aimed squarely at the one man responsible for the destruction of the Colonies. "What kind of battle are we talking about?" Apollo's voice rose, the hostility taking more control of his tone. "Is this a battle where you're thinking more about your warriors or about yourself? Your place in history?" Cain didn't answer, but Apollo saw the Juggernaut visibly flinch and realized that he'd struck a raw nerve. He decided to press on. "Are you thinking about the Legend of Commander Cain and how that legend was tarnished because you weren't there at the one micron when the Colonies needed you most?" his voice dropped to a whisper, but the anger and intensity was still the same. "And this is your chance to make up for that, by going after Baltar?" Cain finally turned around and glared at him, the muscles throbbing visibly in his jaw. "You're out of line, Captain." His tone was cold and forceful, but remarkably restrained. He then turned away from him again and looked down at Tolen, "Battle speed now!" he barked. Apollo felt the momentum of the battlestar pick up beneath his feet. He made his way over to Cain, feeling satisfied that he'd made his point. Now, he felt it was time to make another point. "Commander," his tone was now matter-of-fact. "I ought to remind you that your daughter will be out there with us, and that her sentiments are going to be quite clear if this is put to her on a voluntary basis." The captain turned and left the upper level, leaving Cain alone. From a distance, he seemed totally implacable as he stood rigidly from his command position overlooking the bridge, the very picture of the Juggernaut in action as he calmly directed his battle plan with the methodical precision that had earned him so much fame and glory the last forty yahrens. If anyone had been close enough though, they would have seen the Juggernaut digging his nails into the railing and biting his lower lip so as not to lose the image he needed to project more than ever. Chapter Nine As soon as Apollo left the bridge, he saw Boomer and Starbuck waiting outside in the corridor. "So what's our game plan now?" Boomer inquired. Apollo let out a faint exhale of exasperation. "Oh boy," Starbuck said as they headed for the turbolift. "I get the feeling that Cain's not sticking to the battle plan.....again." "It's true," Apollo said. The blonde lieutenant seemed incredulous, "Then that means we're taking three baseships, head on?" Boomer was shaking his head in disbelief, "That man must be crazy." "A little," Apollo said dryly as they stepped onto the lift. "But that's what gives him the overall advantage from his standpoint. The unexpected." As the lift made it's way down to the launch bay, Boomer was still shaking his head angrily. "Doesn't that guy realize that the last thing the Fleet needs to see is to have a second functional battlestar taken away when we need that element of security more than ever?" "And Cain's answer to that would be, what good is a second battlestar to protect the Fleet if it's not willing to shoulder the burden of trying to get the pursuit force off our backs by taking them head on?" Apollo found it amazing that he was instinctively playing the devil's advocate, but he'd studied Cain's tactics for so many yahrens to know exactly how the Juggernaut might respond to a comment like that. Boomer looked his friend in the eye, "Is that what you really think he's doing this for, Apollo?" "What I think about why he's doing it doesn't matter," Apollo said, deciding that he didn't have the stomach to express his feelings about Cain's desire to avenge his lost honor to anyone else, now that he'd done it to the Juggernaut's face. "The bottom line is that half of Blue Squadron and most of Red Squadron is going to have to pitch in." "And if we get ourselves shot up, we leave the Galactica with not much of a viper force." Boomer added sourly. "Ah, ah." Starbuck held up a hand as the turbolift came to a stop and they stepped off. "After what we just went through on Gomorrah, Boomer, the last thing I want to hear is a bleak forecast." They started walking toward their vipers and Apollo stopped when he saw Red Leader standing by his craft. "Just a centon, I need to talk to Taggs." "Okay." As Apollo drew close, he saw that Taggs was in a heated discussion with the launch CWO. "Now listen, you thick-headed snitrod, I'm just making a simple request to give my laser generators another recharging, so why----" "But Captain----" the CWO protested. "What's going on?" "Oh, glad you're here Apollo," Red Leader looked up at him. "Would you mind telling this clown that if I'm to lead Red Group in another strike, I need to have a fully recharged set of laser generators?" Apollo looked at the CWO. "Is this true? Does his ship need recharging?" "Sir, I've been trying to tell Captain Taggs here that his generator capacity readout shows 90% and that's not low enough to warrant recharging when we've got about three dozen other vipers below 60% that need the service first. They're taking up all our regeneration operations right now." "Well get one of them off and brought over here, now!" Taggs angrily raised his voice. Apollo abruptly jumped in. "Carry on, Sergeant. I'll try to explain matters to the captain a little more clearly." As soon as the CWO had gone, Taggs gave Apollo an angry look, "What the frack are you doing not sticking up for me?" "Sticking up for you?" Apollo glared back at him. "Just where in Hades do you get off demanding preferential treatment when your ship doesn't warrant it right now?" "I'm the leader of Red Squadron," Taggs held his ground. "That means I lead them in, and that means I need a fully charged set of lasers to handle going up against the first attack wave." "That doesn't mean you leave the vipers in your rear flank with dangerously low levels in the same engagement!" Apollo snapped. "Now listen Taggs, don't let your title go to your head. You lead your unit in, and then you work as a team and you don't try to handle the big jobs of ship-to-ship combat all by yourself. If you haven't learned that after all this time, you're not making the case for you to stay in charge of the squadron!" Taggs stiffened slightly. "And just what does that mean?" "You figure that out," Apollo said coldly. "Now you just do your job in this battle and stop throwing your weight around in matters where you have no business doing it. You may be the head of Red Squadron, but you're part of a team and you have to think of the whole unit first!" Red Leader was glaring at Blue Leader with total contempt. Then, with his jaw trembling he turned away and hoisted himself into his viper. Apollo shook his head in disgust and wished at that centon that he had the authority to relieve Taggs of his squadron command. But that order could only come from Adama and it was clear he didn't have the time to deal with the matter of Taggs's competence to command right now. But one thing was certain. As soon as the battle was over, he planned to have a long talk with his father about it. That of course, assumed that the results of this battle would still give him that opportunity, he thought grimly as he moved over to his own viper. On the bridge, Cain continued to stand rigidly at the rail, still projecting the aura of invincibility that the crew expected of him. But all the while, still digging his nails inside the railing and feeling a rising sense of inner anxiety that he couldn't recall feeling since the blackest time of his life three yahrens ago. He abruptly moved away from the railing and went down to the lower level where Tolen and Major Ham were staring intently at the scanner. "Time to intercept, Colonel?" Cain quietly inquired. The executive officer and the senior bridge officer both turned around, surprised to see him standing there. "About eight centons to attack range, Commander." "Thank you," Cain said curtly. "I need to attend to something important. I'll be back on the Bridge in five centons." Then, without saying a word he turned and left leaving both Tolen and Ham even more surprised and perplexed. In the Pegasus Life Station, Cassiopeia stood by Bojay's unit monitoring the instruments. After fifteen centons, the critical reading on his wounded leg had now become stable. She then administered another injection that would flush his system of the side-effects that the painkillers she'd given him earlier on Gomorrah were causing. In an instant, Bojay had gone from a groggy, half-sleep condition to total alertness. "Bojay?" the med-tech asked gently. "How do you feel now?" The warrior took a breath. "The leg just throbs like Hades, but I feel great now." He looked at her and smiled. "Thanks for getting me back alive, Cassiopeia. You're.....quite a lady. I'm glad you were there to volunteer for the mission." She returned his smile and nodded, "So am I." Cassiopeia's tone then grew matter of fact. "You'll need to let that leg stay immobile for at least a full cycle while the anti-toxins clear out all laser residue from the artery. In about forty eight centars you should be cleared for flight duty if there aren't any more complications." "Thanks," he rested his head against the pillow. "I'll be glad to shoot a whole squadron up for you." Sheba cautiously came up to the Life Unit and looked down with relief. "Bojay?" "Hey," he grinned. "Well, I guess we really closed them good down there." "We did." she nodded and returned the smile, still feeling a considerable amount of inner emotion over how she'd come close to losing her closest friend among all the warriors on the Pegasus. "We really spoiled the Imperious Leader's party." "Too bad we couldn't find time to take a shot at him." Bojay said wistfully. "I'd have gladly taken a wound in the other leg too if I could have done that." "You just be glad you're back and ready to fight again, soon," she reached down and patted him on the shoulder. "Just rest now." "Won't be easy," he sighed and then looked up at her again. "Did I hear Apollo right? Is he going to have me decorated even though I didn't follow his order?" "You heard right," Sheba nodded, "You earned it Bojay. Thanks to you, the mission was a bigger success than we could have imagined." Bojay sighed and then an air of regret seemed to come over his face. "You know," he absently looked at the ceiling. "It's too bad we didn't get off on the right foot with Apollo and the rest of the Galactica warriors. They're.....well they're really good guys at heart. I....didn't fit in well when I used to fly with them, but......that wasn't their fault." "I know what you mean." She kept patting his shoulder. "But we'll be getting along fine with them now. Don't worry about that." Sheba took a breath. "I've got another Cylon party to ruin now." "I wish I could go with you." he said forlornly. "I promise to tell you all about it when I get back," she smiled with sisterly reassurance and then started to move away toward the compartment door. Only to freeze when she saw her father enter. "Sheba----" Cain started, his voice filled with concern. "I'm sorry, Father," her voice was almost trembling as she remembered Cassiopeia's words from before the mission. "I have to go now and join the rest of Silver Spar group. We'll.....talk later." She walked out, leaving Cain feeling slightly staggered. "Cain." Cassiopeia said gently. "It's okay between us now." "What?" He turned around to face her. "Between Sheba and me." she said. "We.....had a long talk about things while we were on the mission." "Oh." Cain's mind was racing faster than he could comprehend. "Well I'm....glad to hear that Cassie, I------" "Cain, I also told her what you told me the other day." Cassiopeia decided she had to level with him. "And I think it's time you say the same thing to her face when you get the chance." The Juggernaut bit his lip awkwardly and in that instant, Cassiopeia thought he looked like the vulnerable, lost man she had met three yahrens ago during his time of grief. Clearly, there was a good deal of emotional turmoil going inside Cain, and it could only mean one thing to Cassiopeia. Her instincts about what Cain had planned for the upcoming battle were correct and the Juggernaut now feared the prospect of that happening with so many loose ends in his own life remaining. Without saying anything, Cain left the Life Station and sprinted after his daughter. "Sheba," there was a distinct air of urgency in his voice. "Sheba wait!" Reluctantly, Sheba stopped and turned around. "Father, I haven't got time. We're launching any micron now and with Bojay wounded, that means I have to lead Silver Spar. Three to one odds, but then, you already know that." Cain could hear an almost faint edge of bitterness in her voice. As soon as Sheba had realized that the battle plan would be a direct attack, she could only remember Cassiopeia's words before the mission about how she felt Cain wasn't planning on coming back, and how they had seemingly been borne out. "Sheba," he took a breath. "I want you to take Bojay and shuttle him back to the Galactica." His daughter stiffened as she felt her worst fears confirmed even more. Her father was planning on something potentially suicidal and was trying to find a way of sparing her. "I'm sorry, Father," she drew herself up to the most firm posture she could manage. "What you plan for Silver Spar, you plan for me. I'm the senior flight leader on the Pegasus and that means my place is with them." The Red Alert klaxon sounded and the corridor was bathed in the glow of the red light. Inside, Cain winced at how his concern for Sheba's safety had made him lose track of the time. Sheba felt her sense of bravado weaken now that the alert had sounded. She decided that she needed to say something to her father now, or she might find herself living with eternal regret for not having spoken at this moment. "Father," her voice was gentle, "There's something I want to say to you. About Cassiopeia. She and I, we........had a clearing of the air. And even if we hadn't, I saw her risk her life to save Bojay's, and that might have been enough to tell me that.....well, maybe I don't know as much about people as I think I do." She paused. "It doesn't bother me anymore if she means something to you. It never should have." Cain almost felt his eyes tearing up, "Sheba," his voice was a near whisper. "I'm sorry for what happened three yahrens ago. I never meant to........that is.......I....." all the things he wanted to say were sticking in his throat. Even now, at a time when he wanted to be open and direct with Sheba, it was still hard for him to look her in the eye and mention her mother and how he'd felt about her, and how he'd never meant to show any disrespect to Bethany's memory. Sheba managed to smile weakly with reassurance. "It's okay," she said, "It's okay, I know what you mean. You don't need to say anything more about it." Cain impulsively reached out his arms and hugged his daughter. "I love you, baby," he managed to regain some of the strength in his voice. "And I want to see you again. So you be careful." Sheba choked back the emotion in her voice and nodded. "You too, Commander." She gave her father one last kiss and embrace. Then, she headed off down the corridor to the launch bay. For several microns, Cain watched his daughter walk away and felt a wave of memories and emotions going through him. It took all of his inner strength to finally push them aside as he realized that his absence from the Bridge had to be causing considerable anxiety with Tolen and Ham. He finally turned away and began to sprint back to the Bridge, summoning the firm, implacable image of the Juggernaut with each step he took. As soon as Tolen saw Cain emerge through the compartment door and quickly assume his position on the upper level, the executive officer let out both a sigh of relief and a silent prayer to the Lords. The Juggernaut's absence from the Bridge had gone on longer than he'd expected it to, and had left him feeling slightly unnerved as the readouts on the scanner grew more and more ominous. "Status?" the Juggernaut said as he folded his hands behind his back and stared out the main viewing screen. "Cylon attack force numbers are equivalent to full complement of fighters from two baseships and one half of a third baseship." "That clears up how many losses we were able to inflict in the first battle." Cain tightened his grip on the swagger stick behind his back "Range?" "One hundred microns and closing." Tolen looked up at Cain. "Sir, do we launch now?" "Give it another twenty microns," the air of determination was evident in Cain's voice. "Lull them into thinking we're defenseless just a bit longer and then surprise them with our entire defense force coming out at them. That should throw them off their stride just a bit." No more words passed between the commander and executive officer for the next centon. Only the sounds of frenetic activity from the rest of the bridge personnel as they rechecked their systems and made sure all was at the ready aboard the great battlestar for its first major engagement in two yahrens. "Eighty microns and closing!" Tolen called out. "Launch all fighters!" The Juggernaut barked. Starbuck could feel the edge of impatience building inside him as he waited for the launch order to come through his helmet. When he finally heard it, he pressed his finger down on the button so hard he wondered for an instant if he was going to push it right out of the control stick. As soon as he emerged from the launch tube, he wasted little time hooking up with Blue Squadron's fighters. "Blue Leader to Silver Spar and Red Leaders," Apollo radioed. "Scanner shows high volume of Cylons concentrated together. Recommend we all stay packed together in a single formation and just let loose at them. The Pegasus needs a clear path down the middle to be able to proceed." "We'll never stay coordinated that way, Apollo!" Taggs's voice angrily chimed in. "You've got to let each of us hit them from different angles and stay focused on an individual plan of attack. Keep us packed together in one formation and we could end up hitting each other by accident!" "Coordination isn't what's important right now, Taggs!" Apollo snapped back. "If we take too much time with tight, fancy maneuvers on the flanks then a lot more of those fighters are going to break through and cause more damage to the Pegasus which is the last thing any of us want, and if we pick them off at the flanks there'll be a massive wall in the middle they can't get by! Don't you agree, Sheba?" There was only an instantaneous delay before Sheba spoke up. "I do. The safety of the Pegasus means we should stay bunched together and take out as much of the first wave as we possibly can." Starbuck felt himself shaking his head at how the battle was now coming down to this. By far, it was more dangerous for a large number of vipers to stay close together to meet a larger group of enemy fighters head on, as opposed to having the squadrons peel off and attack the enemy from different flanks. The risks caused by high volumes of laser fire among so many ships packed so close together were far greater than the risks he was ordinarily used to in combat engagements. Nonetheless, the objective of the mission required keeping the Pegasus protected, and there was little doubt that while the risk factor was greater for the vipers by staying close together, it would be far greater for the Pegasus if the flank attack strategy were employed. Tactically, Apollo's recommendation was correct. What had him steamed was the thought that the delay in launching that had aggravated him for several centons had perhaps forced this more dangerous tactical maneuver for himself. "Shit." he said under his breath and clenched his teeth. "You say something, Starbuck?" Apollo's voice sharply filled his helmet, and in an instant Starbuck was blushing red with embarrassment as he remembered his com frequency was in the on position. "Uh...nothing, Apollo. I just said this is it." "Oh," Apollo said, not believing him. "Just stay loose, Starbuck. Forty microns to contact." "Apollo, I still think you're wrong!" Taggs had the sound of someone who wasn't about to yield an inch. "Let my squadron peel off and hit them at their rear flank!" "Negative!" Apollo raised his voice. "The debate is over, Taggs. Just follow orders and do your fracking job!" Starbuck, Boomer and the rest of the Galactica pilots could feel the coldness generated by Red Leader's lack of response. It had them wondering if their greatest casualties would come not from the Cylons but from dissension in their own ranks. Which struck Boomer as ironic since it would be dissension in the Galactica's ranks, and not dissension between the Galactica and Pegasus pilots that would be the cause of it. "Twenty microns to contact." Lieutenant Banker calmly spoke up from his position with the rest of Silver Spar Group. In the lead Cylon fighter of the attack force, the lead pilot felt the same trace of unease in his circuitry that he had felt in the attack on the Galactica when he had turned his head to the left and seen the Pegasus closing in on them. "They are heading directly for us." He decided to voice his concern as he had done to Baltar before. "Flanking maneuvers not evident." "They will probably execute their maneuver at the last possible micron." The commander said from the seat behind the pilot. "Prepare to intercept the first viper that does so." The hostile exchange between Taggs and Apollo had left the rest of Red Group's pilots feeling more unnerved than any of their compatriots from Blue and Silver Spar group might have felt. For Barton, it was enough to leave him with no doubt whatsoever that Columbia veteran or not, Taggs was totally unqualified to be a Squadron leader. The need to have someone from his old battlestar commanding them no longer had any meaning to him, now that it was clear that no one from the Columbia's ranks could ever replace the late Captain Killian, and he knew the rest of Red Group had to feel the same way. By far, a seasoned veteran from the Galactica like Boomer or Starbuck would be a better squadron leader than Taggs ever could. "Fifteen microns and closing," he heard Taggs's sullen voice come through on what Barton realized was the squadron circuit only, and not the open com-line that could be heard by the other squadrons. "Barton, Bunker, stand by to go to turbos and join me on their starboard flank." The flight sergeant almost froze. "Uh....Captain," the voice of Sergeant Bunker uneasily sounded through Barton's helmet, "Blue Leader said....." "Who in Hades do you think knows better, a pampered hack from the Galactica or someone you've flown with for five yahrens?" Taggs exploded. "Apollo is wrong, period. If he doesn't realize that he's leading us all to mass suicide, then we've got to stop this nutty maneuver from happening. Now on my signal, you go to your turbos and let's give those tinheads something that's more difficult for them to handle!" "Sir, our orders are to...." Barton decided to speak up, but only on the squadron circuit. "I'm your squadron commander and I'm giving you both an order now!" Taggs raised his voice. "You've got three microns to obey me or else you're guaranteeing that your astrum gets fried by Cylon fire." The hesitation from Bunker already told Barton that the sergeant was too intimidated by Taggs to challenge him, and was probably one of the few left who could still be swayed by the Columbia factor. "No!" Barton shouted back. "Absolutely not! Sir, you have lost your mind completely!" "You're on report, Barton!" Taggs shouted. "I'll have you up on insubordination if you don't follow me now! And that goes for you too, Bunker!" Abruptly, Red Leader activated his turbos and peeled off from the main cluster of vipers. After a half-micron delay, Barton saw to his horror that Sergeant Bunker was doing so too. "What in Hades is going on?" Barton could hear Apollo's voice as he frantically readjusted the frequency. "Taggs, get your astrum back into formation now!" "Sir, Captain Taggs has gone nuts!" Barton radioed. "I'll try to get the two of them back. Don't bother with us!" "I won't." Apollo seethed. "Now all of you, get this straight. You are to stay in tight formation with the rest of us now! Is that understood?" A loud chorus of "Yes sirs!" suddenly erupted from the overwhelming majority of fighters from all three squadrons. "Ten microns and closing!" Sheba felt the intensity in her voice pick up. "Fighters beginning to peel off into flanking maneuvers." "Destroy them." Barton had begun his pursuit of Taggs and Bunker, who were moving off to the starboard flank of the incoming attack force, preparing to hit them from the side. "Bunker!" Barton shouted at his fellow enlisted man, deciding that Taggs was beyond all hope of reasoning with. "Don't go with him. Captain Taggs has gone totally mad! You're only throwing your life away if you follow him!" He wondered if Bunker was on the verge of replying something. Whether to say he knew Barton was right, but felt duty bound to follow his leader, or to tell him that he agreed with Taggs completely. But whatever the reply might have been, Barton never got a chance to hear it. The flight sergeant watched in horror as he abruptly saw twelve Cylon fighters peel off from the starboard flank and bear down on the two vipers of Taggs and Bunker. The intense wall of blue fire that rained down on them destroyed them both before either had a chance to open fire in return. Barton choked back the sick nausea in his stomach as he hurriedly turned his viper around to rejoin the main formation. "Frack!" Apollo slammed his hand against the back of the cockpit as he saw the results of what had happened on his scanner. And for the thousandth time, he cursed himself for not having broached the subject of Taggs' fitness to command with his father. There was stunned disbelief from both the Galactica and Pegasus fighters. Not once had any of them ever seen a case of a viper pilot totally flipping out in a combat situation. It was something they had read about in their Academy training days in case study examples in a textbook, but all of them had long been convinced that the disciplinary process of training and seasoning could keep that from actually happening. That a pilot prone to that kind of behavior would be weeded out long before he ever had a chance to crack. "Apollo," Boomer said. "Those twelve fighters that broke off from the flank are going to have a clear path right to the Pegasus. Should we detach some fighters to take care of them?" "That could hinder our ability to shoot a clean path down the middle of the main attack force for the Pegasus to pass through." Apollo said. "My recommendation is no. Sheba?" Sheba felt slightly surprised that Apollo was suddenly deferring to her on this point. But in an instant she understood why he was doing so, and felt a brief sense of gratitude at how considerate he was being at a critical micron like this. "No," the Juggernaut's daughter finally spoke. "No, we proceed with our tactical plan. Concentrate on clearing a path down the center. If we do that quick enough, those twelve that just broke off won't have time to lay a finger on the Pegasus." "Contact range now!" Lieutenant Skyler spoke up. "Engage!" Apollo barked. "Squadrons now engaged, Commander," Tolen said. "But twelve fighters from the starboard flank have broken off and will be on us in thirty microns." "Positive shield," Cain said as he began to tap his swagger stick against the railing. "Seal all compartments." "Shall we prepare all batteries to commence fire on these incoming fighters off the flank?" "Negative," Cain turned around and shook his head. "Maintain full speed and ignore them. The battery crews can take a shot at them if they get in range, but we're not slowing down for any precision firing." Starbuck couldn't recall a time in the last seven yahrens when he'd seen such thick laser fire in a combat situation. The large walls of red streaking from the vipers and the returning streaks of blue from the Cylons filled his vision so much it almost succeeded in hiding the blackness of space in his field of vision. He saw another explosion to his right and realized that the Cylon fire had just taken out one viper. Amidst the thickness, he couldn't tell right away who's it had been. Feeling his sense of determination increase he again pressed his finger on the fire button as hard as he could and held it down. The steady stream of laser fire succeeded in taking out four approaching Cylons. "Starbuck?" he heard Boomer's voice. "How are you doing? There's so many of them, you can't miss." "I know," Starbuck uneasily sighed, "But I just lost....who was that on my right?" "Corporal Breeds," Boomer said, feeling empathy. "Yeah, I know what you mean, but we seem to be holding the advantage." "Laser fire's so thick you could walk on it." "Attention all fighters," Apollo spoke up. "We've just about shot through the center of the first wave. Let's fall back and see what we can do with the ones headed for the Pegasus from the flanks." He then paused briefly. "Boomer, you're now the acting commander of Red Group. Hook up with the rest of them and assume lead position." The dark skinned warrior stiffened slightly, not having anticipated that at all. "Yes sir," he quickly shook it off and then moved off to join the now leaderless group of Galactica fighters. "The first attack wave's now on top of us, sir!" Tolen felt his uneasiness rising. "Do we have a clear path to go through the flanks and proceed to the task force?" "Affirmative," the executive officer admitted, almost wishing it weren't true. "Maintain full battle speed and proceed!" The first blast of an explosion then rumbled through the bridge. "Commander," Major Ham spoke up from his position on the lower level. "Battery crews can't track these Cylons as long as we maintain battle speed. We can't repel their fire." "Damage control teams stand by for immediate operations in both landing bays." Cain said calmly. "The first sign of damage there, I want them to take care of it and have it clear before the next fighter takes a shot." As Ham donned his headset to give the orders to the damage control team, several more direct hits suddenly rocked the Pegasus and caused the major to fall out of his chair. He quickly got back to his feet and already noticed the signs of smoke from fires elsewhere in the battlestar seeping through one of the ventilation ducts. Through it all, the Juggernaut remained locked in the same position on the upper level. Baltar's sense of uneasiness over the day's events had now led him to abandon his throne room for the main operations center, where he could stay completely on top of the situation. He sat down in the smaller version of his throne chair that he had installed on the far side of the room and calmly waited for news of the next engagement to come through. When he saw Lucifer walk over from the other side of the command center, where he had been in consultation with the command centurion at the main communications bank, he quietly dug his fingers in the sides of his chair, wondering what the news would be. "A report from our task force," the IL said, "The Pegasus has been sent out to intercept them." "Destroy her," Baltar said flatly. "It should take no time at all with the Galactica still engaged at Gomorrah. Then have them proceed." "By your command." Once again, the lead pilot was feeling that sense of unease as he saw something that his carefully programmed mind had not been prepared to expect. "The Pegasus is not stopping to engage us." he spoke up. "Impossible." the commander said. "That is why she is here. All fighters maintain pursuit and destroy her." "By your command." Again, Major Ham felt the force of another explosion nearly knock him out of his chair. He quickly pressed his ear to his headset then threw it down and dashed up to the upper level where Cain remained. "Sir," he said, "Beta Bay is now inoperable. A few more centons of this and we won't have Alpha Bay functional either." "Report noted, Major," Cain didn't look at him. "Carry on." The dark-skinned major found it incredible that Cain seemed so calm and implacable in the face of the worst beating the battlestar had ever taken in what seemed like many yahrens. Not even the Battle of Molocay had subjected the Pegasus to the kind of punishment she was now enduring. The sheer power the Juggernaut exuded just by standing there without a trace of emotion was enough to make Ham quietly return to his station on the lower level. At that micron, the three squadrons of vipers had now fallen back on the Pegasus and as soon as Apollo saw the damage to the battlestar, he winced. "She's on fire," he said, "Those fighters off the flanks have given her a real pounding." "I hope that little snitrod Taggs is rotting in Hades," Sheba spoke up with considerable bitterness in her voice. It was all too clear that more Cylons had been able to inflict damage on the battlestar because of Red Leader's cracking. "Take it easy, Sheba," Apollo cautioned. "She's not done for yet." "Fighter on your left, Sheba," Lieutenant Skyler chimed in. "I see him," she exhaled. "Just give me a micron." Sheba maneuvered herself into position and slowly took a breath as she sized up the fighter. She then pressed the trigger. She was startled to see that her shot had missed. She had taken it completely for granted that she had the target lined up and that there was no way she could have missed. Now, too late, she realized that her bitterness over what had happened to the Pegasus as a result of the Taggs cracking had thrown her precision off. The Cylon abruptly did a gradual reverse thrust that put it squarely behind her, right in the line of fire. "Sheba!" Skyler warned. "Behind you!" "I know," she felt an edge of panic, "Need assistance fast!" "Stand by, Sheba." Apollo felt his heart pounding with concern as he hit his turbo so as to put him on a parallel intercept course with the Cylon fighter. But before Apollo could arrive, the Cylon had managed to open fire first. A lesser experienced pilot would not have been able to react quick enough to move his viper out of the direct line of fire and prevent total destruction from taking place. But Sheba's carefully honed instincts about how long it took the laser streaks to travel enabled her to make the maneuver upward that would put her main engine and fuel tanks out of the line of direct fire. It was not however quick enough to avoid being hit elsewhere. And so, the blue streaks of laser fire struck the underside of her craft toward the front, causing the force of the blast to travel upward right into the cockpit where she sat. Sheba felt a searing blast of pain spread across her body from the force of the explosion. Sparks flew from almost every instrument panel in the cockpit, causing burns on her hands. For an instant, she let go of the control stick and felt her viper nearly spiral out of control. It took every last bit of effort to get hold of the stick and then engage the automatic control heading. "Sheba?" Apollo's voice crackled with deep concern as he hurriedly destroyed the pursuing Cylon fighter and pulled up alongside her. "Sheba, are you all right?" She took a breath to try and speak and then felt an incredible pain in her lungs. "I-" it was a struggle to get any words out. "I.....no, I don't think so. I, oh God I think I-----" "Take it easy, take it easy," Apollo said reassuringly. "Automatic control in place?" "Yes," she whispered, convinced that her lung had collapsed from the force of the blast impacting on her. "But......I'm....pretty badly shot up...." "It's okay, it's okay," his words took on a soothing quality. "I'm gonna move in front of you now. Beta Bay looks like it's out, but Alpha Bay's okay so we'll head in there." "Thanks Apollo," Sheba felt slightly relieved. "I'll follow, I----" and then winced as the pain inside her chest increased. "Don't say anything more, just follow me in. Starbuck, you take charge of Blue Squadron. Lieutenant, ah....Skyler? You're now in charge of Silver Spar." As Starbuck watched Apollo lead Sheba's crippled viper in, he took another look at the fires raging across the Pegasus and then shook his head grimly. "I just hope the Pegasus is still around when you get there." "Well?" Baltar had now left his throne chair and gone over to the communications terminal on the other side of the command center. "Another report," Lucifer said. "The Pegasus has been destroyed and our forces are on their way to Gomorrah?" He inquired coldly, making it clear that was the only report he wanted to hear at this point. Lucifer paused again, knowing that he'd enjoy the effect as soon as he uttered the words, "Not exactly." "What's happened?" the traitor's expression darkened. "The Pegasus did not stop to engage our fighters." "Did not engage?" Baltar seemed caught off-guard again. "But that----" he then stopped and looked up at the ceiling in contemplation. Then his expression took on that of someone who had just seen the light. "Ah, of course. Commander Cain has not lost his touch. He is acting as a decoy. He intends to lead our fighters off, make them pursue and burn off fuel while Gomorrah remains under attack and her resources pillaged." "A very clever plan," Lucifer conceded. "And one most worthy of Commander Cain's tactical instincts." "Yes, I am familiar with his reputation." Baltar nodded. "And because of that, I can see right through it." for the first time since before the first attack on the Galactica, the smug expression returned to the traitor's face. "Break off the attack. Continue our fighters on toward Gomorrah. We'll finish off the Galactica and then return for the Pegasus, after we have saved our Imperious Leader." "I am certain he will be most pleased by your selfless concern for his well-being," Lucifer made certain there was the barest hint of sarcasm in his voice, knowing that Baltar probably wouldn't be able to detect it. The IL then went to the other side of the communications console and motioned to the command centurion. "Put me through on direct tie-in to our attack force." "By your command." Lucifer then spoke firmly into the microphone on the console. "By order of the Imperious Leader, through his commander, Baltar. You are to disengage at once and move with all dispatch to Gomorrah to save His Eminence from immediate danger." "By your command," the voice of the squadron commander filled the room. "Disengaging from Pegasus and proceeding to Gomorrah." When Lucifer had finished, he turned around and saw to his distaste that the smug grin on Baltar's expression had widened. He only hoped at this point that once this was all over, the Imperious Leader had enough anger left in him to mete out sufficient punishment to Baltar for failing to prevent the initial attack on Gomorrah. "Those Cylons from the flanks are regrouping into a second wave, Starbuck," Boomer said. "This isn't going to be easy." "I know," Starbuck gritted his teeth. "Skyler, Boomer, we might as well go back to a concentrated formation again and punch another hole down their middle." "Affirmative," Skyler said. "Silver Spar, hook up with Red and Blue in concentrated formation immediately!" "Red Leader to Red Group," Boomer didn't let himself reflect at how odd it seemed to use that title. "Regroup to concentrated formation." "Yes sir!" there was a mixture of both frustration and relief in Barton's voice. Just as the remaining vipers assumed formation though, they were astonished to see the sight of all remaining Cylon fighters suddenly peel away from them, and head not in the direction of the Pegasus, but off into space, toward the distant sun where Gomorrah lay. "What the?" Skyler's mouth fell open. "I see it, but I don't understand it," Boomer was equally amazed. Inside his viper, Starbuck suddenly began to laugh. "He was right. By all the Lords he was right again." "Say again?" Boomer frowned. "Cain," Starbuck kept chuckling. "He wanted them to think he was a decoy, and now they're headed for Gomorrah." Boomer suddenly nodded. "Right, I see what you mean. But Starbuck that means that the Galactica and our recovery teams are now at risk!" "They won't be for long." Starbuck said. "Cain's going to keep proceeding for the basestars, and then when Baltar realizes Cain isn't a decoy after all, the fighters will get recalled and the Galactica's safe, and by then it'll be too late for the fighters to help protect the baseships." Every helmet in Silver Spar group suddenly perked up as soon as they heard Starbuck's words. For all of them, it was the first time that they had realized what it was their commander had planned to do ultimately. Inside his cockpit, Skyler quietly switched his frequency so that only the members of Silver Spar group could hear him. "Did you hear that?" "I did," Banker nodded. "Lords of Kobol, that means----" "It means that all of us have to get together as soon as we're aboard," Skyler said. "I think we all need to make a pretty serious decision of our own." Chapter Ten Throughout the entire recovery operation, Adama had not allowed himself to feel a micron's relaxation. There were still too many unknown factors in this dangerous battle plan that could still end in the destruction of the Pegasus, the Galactica and the entire Fleet. Only when he had the fuel aboard and distributed, the Pegasus reunited, and the Gomorrah sector put safely behind him would he finally allow himself to relax. And then, he knew he'd have to have another long talk with Cain concerning the Juggernaut's failure to notify him about the Imperious Leader's presence on Gomorrah. "Status?" Adama asked Tigh for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last centar to the executive officer. "We've loaded five tankers worth of solium and tylium to maximum capacity." Tigh said. "All that's left now are several auxiliary shuttles to load solium for our own storage tanks." "How much more time do they need?" "No more than thirty centons." "Have they had any trouble with the ground units?" "None. The depot explosion created as solid a firewall barrier as you could have asked for. Just to be sure it kept going, they managed to explode one more bunker. And our fighters have kept the air bases out of commission for the next sectan at a minimum." "Recall the remaining vipers. We already let enough go off with the Pegasus as it is and I want to have the ones we have left refueled so they can provide some protection for the Fleet." He looked at Tigh again. "How long do you suppose five full tankers and our own tanks topped should last the Fleet?" Tigh shrugged. "Given the consumption levels we were operating under before the shortages began, I'd say we've bought ourselves maybe as much as a whole yahren provided we use it wisely." "The more time we have the better," Adama grunted and then looked out the viewing screen, "Once we put this quadrant of space behind us, there's nothing left in the known universe to us. No more planets and stars with names we've charted before. This is the part of our journey we're it's really all in the hands of the Lords to guide us to places that will help us continue the path to Earth." Before the executive officer could reply, Athena spoke up, "Commander, you'd better have a look at this." Adama and Tigh descended the steps to the lower level and glanced down at her console. "Large formation of incoming ships from delta sector," Athena said. "Unmistakably Cylon." The commander let out an exasperated sigh. "Cain's plan didn't work. He was supposed to lead those fighters away and now they'll soon be on top of us." "And our loaded tankers are ripe targets." Tigh put in grimly. "They won't be able to move quickly." "I know," he clenched his fist and banged it against the railing. "Damn. To come this far, and now it's on the verge of being all for nothing." He then straightened himself. "Tell the assault teams to close down all operations immediately and get off the surface now. Also, our own fighters left providing air cover are going to have to stay airborne to provide escort for them and the tankers. There isn't enough time to refuel any of them yet." "All Cylon fighters have moved out towards Gomorrah, Commander," Tolen said. "Our fighters are now landing in Alpha Bay." "Damage report?" Cain inquired of Ham. "Beta bay inoperable. Not too much additional damage actually. Small hull breech in gamma section being attended to." "Casualties?" "The Life Station reports about ten dead. Perhaps as many as fifty wounded." The Juggernaut said nothing for a long centon before he finally turned and left the bridge. He walked at a quick pace before he arrived at the Life Station. One look at the full load of life pods, and the med-techs attending to the injured was enough to drive home the reality of the personal cost of this campaign. He noticed Cassiopeia standing by one of the life pods that he realized contained Bojay. He immediately made his way over. "How is he?" She looked up at him, her expression and voice flat. "He'll live. But the battle didn't exactly do much to speed his recovery." She paused. "So tell me, Cain. Are you winning?" The cold flatness of her tone made Cain stiffen. "You make it sound like this is my own personal war." "Isn't it?" Cassiopeia retorted. "If it isn't, then tell me what it's all about. I've been trying to figure it out for the last centar with all the explosions going around me while I try to help your staff keep these wounded alive, and all I come up with is the same answer." she paused. "And I think I know you well enough to realize that there can't be another answer, right?" Cain absently looked at the floor. "Cassie," he said, "If you only knew the burden I've had to live with since I realized the Colonies were destroyed." "All of us have had to live with that burden, Cain," Cassiopeia said. "Your problem is you think it cuts deeper with you. But it doesn't Cain. You have to let go of it. Just like....." she paused, "Well....just like you've had to let go of other things you haven't let yourself let go of." "I know," he said quietly and kept looking at the floor, "But Cassie....this is something I have to do, or I can't conquer that demon in my mind." Just then, a stretcher was wheeled into the Life Station. And Cain then looked down in horror and saw Sheba lying on it. "Sheba-" he was stunned, not having expected this at all. "Baby, what happened?" Sheba struggled to take a breath, not wanting to let the pain in her chest keep her from speaking to her father or showing a brave facade. "I'm sorry, Father," she smiled weakly. "I missed." Cassiopeia quickly bent over her and ran a med-scanner over her. Her expression darkened. "Sheba, don't say another word." then to another med-tech, "Get her in chamber four immediately! I need to treat a collapsed lung and possible internal bleeding." As soon as Cassiopeia and another med-tech quickly wheeled the stretcher away, Cain angrily turned to Apollo and Starbuck, who had moved the stretcher into the Life Station. "What happened?" He angrily demanded. "How was she hurt?" Apollo felt conflicting emotions at that instant. Sympathy for Cain over having to see his only child wounded bad. But also still feeling the sense of anger left over from their confrontation on the bridge when he'd zeroed in on the real reason why Cain had undertaken this reckless endeavor. He decided to keep his tone neutral. "Like she said, sir. She missed, and the Cylon didn't." "I'm sure she'll be okay, Commander." Starbuck said. "What's the situation with the Pegasus? Is the fire under control?" At that instant, Cain's slightly slouched posture went erect and he had the full bearing of the Juggernaut once again. The pained expression was now gone from his face, and his voice strong and clear. To Apollo, it was though a power switch had just been activated. "She'll be ready to do the job, Lieutenant." He then turned away and began to walk out. "Uh...sir?" Starbuck called after him, "What job is that?" "Whatever it is she has to do." Cain didn't look back as he walked out with the fullness of his swagger. Starbuck shook his head in disbelief. "I almost thought seeing Sheba would make him change his mind." He said aloud, "But I guess he's really going to do what I think he's going to do." "Yes," Apollo wasn't surprised. "And you know what's worse? We're starting to think just like him." Just then, Cassiopeia re-emerged and came up to them. "I've got her stabilized," she said. "She'll be fine. A collapsed lung but thankfully no internal bleeding. With the right treatment she'll probably be okay in two days." She then paused, "But is she going to have that chance?" Right away, both Apollo and Starbuck knew that she'd figured things out as well. "Cassiopeia," He said, "You'd better make plans to evacuate all your wounded to shuttles right away. You've probably got no more than a half centar at best." "I'll see to it immediately," She nodded, "What about the both of you?" "I guess we've got to find out what Cain wants of the rest of us." Apollo said. "Starbuck, come with me. I think we need to have one more talk with him." Starbuck nodded and started to follow Apollo out. But Cassiopeia touched him on the shoulder, so she could say one last thing to him. "Starbuck," she said, "I think you should know that I've.....made my decision." The blonde warrior looked her in the eye and then smiled disarmingly, "You can tell me about it when it's over, Cass." He said, "Catch you later." As soon as he was gone, the med-tech let out a sigh, "I hope so." she whispered and then went back to her duties. Cain was halfway back to the bridge when he noticed that all of the pilots from Silver Spar group were standing at the end of the corridor. "Sir," Skyler stepped forward. "If it isn't too much, we'd like to have a word with you." "Go right ahead, Skyler." the Juggernaut said. "Sir, all of us I think understand what it is you have planned for the Pegasus. And we want you to know that we've all agreed to see this battle through with you." Cain smiled thinly. "I appreciate that, Skyler. But none of you can do much good with your vipers in this kind of engagement. You'd only get yourselves caught in the crossfire." "We understand that, sir," Banker spoke up. "That being the case, we'll just ride this out with everyone else on the bridge, or chip in down in Damage Control if we have to." "I'm having all the wounded and other non-essential personnel evacuated to the Fleet," Cain said gently. "They're going to need fighter escort." "The Galactica's pilots can handle that load, Commander." This from Paris. "Our place is here." Cain realized there was little point arguing with the men of Silver Spar. All of them, to a man, was determined to not desert the man they felt they owed their lives to. And nothing he could say or do would make them change their minds about it. "It's an honor to have brave men like you in my command, gentlemen," Cain said. "I hope there'll never be a time when you think I've let you down." Each of the warriors proudly saluted their commander. The Juggernaut acknowledged it with a half smile and a wave of his swagger stick. "Dismissed," he said quietly. "See what you can do to assist in the evacuation." As soon as the Pegasus pilots had dispersed, Cain felt the need to brush a tear from his eye as he resumed his walk to the bridge of the Pegasus. Knowing there was one other matter he needed to deal with. "Commander," Omega said, "All our vipers are in protective screen around the tankers, but they're reporting that their fuel levels are so low that they can probably only do it for about another fifty centons." "We may not need them to provide escort that long." Adama said as he made his way back to the navigation board. "Colonel, what's the status of the Pegasus?" "The telemetry coming through is confusing, sir," the executive officer said, "According to the information we have, the Pegasus is on a direct course toward the Cylon baseships." "Toward them," Adama almost clenched his teeth, "Not back to us, which he should have done the instant those Cylon fighters made their way for Gomorrah." "He must have resumed course towards them when he was unsuccessful in leading their fighters away." Adama was glaring at the navigation board. "If he ever intended to lead them away." "But that was the plan." "No," the Galactica commander shook his head, "That was our plan. It was never his." He turned and made his way back to Athena's console. "Athena, get me Commander Cain on Comline Alpha immediately. Hopefully he hasn't moved too far out of range to make scrambled communications worthless by this point." Athena activated the communicator and an instant later the Juggernaut's face filled the screen. "Hello Adama," behind the courtesy in Cain's voice, Adama noticed that for the first time, the Juggernaut seemed spent. "I've been expecting your communique." "Cain," Adama's tone was stern, "What is your present course?" There was no bravado in Cain's response. "You wouldn't be asking me that if you didn't already know." "Yes," Adama nodded, feeling the awful sensation that he was about to lose the badly needed resource of a second battlestar for good. "And I want you to reverse course immediately. You're steering directly into the Cylon baseships. You'll kill every man and woman aboard the Pegasus." "It's all been arranged, Adama," Cain's tone seemed to grow more quiet. "All nonessential personnel, plus the wounded, are being transferred to the Fleet. They should arrive at the same time you get back from Gomorrah." "That won't help you or your crew!" "Well if my plan works, those Cylon fighters that are headed toward you will soon turn back. Hopefully by the time they get here, there won't be a baseship for them to land on. In the meantime, you can get those fuel loads you recovered distributed to the Fleet and get your astrums out of the Gomorrah quadrant long before the fighters on Gomorrah, or on the Imperious Leader's flagship, can mount any kind of pursuit. And since the Imperious Leader doesn't carry a full attack complement anyway, he couldn't be a significant threat to you even if he does manage to get himself back on your trail. You'll be able to outrun them with no difficulties over the long haul." "Cain," Adama almost felt as though he were pleading with Cain. Wanting desperately to find a way that would make the Juggernaut realize the folly of throwing his life away in this engagement, which was all it seemingly came down to. Because for all the conflicts and controversy that had developed between them, Adama still felt stronger with Cain than without him. "Cain, listen to me. You can achieve the same thing if you veer away from those baseships at the last possible micron. Don't attempt to take them on, it's just not worth it!" "No, Adama, I have to do it." Cain sounded as though he were pleading in return. "Because if I don't, then those fighters will be able to land, refuel and go after you and your Fleet again. You said it yourself, you've been dogging Baltar's task force since you fled the Colonies and this has to stop if you're ever going to have any real hope of finding the haven you want to find for your people." His voice seemed to rise, "No, trust me Adama, I'll get rid of those baseships somehow." "Cain," Adama felt he needed to play his last desperate card. One that he knew could not be implemented, but could at least have the effect of making Cain see things in a different light. "You realize I can relieve you of your command again." There was a brief pause from the other end, and to Adama it seemed as though there had never been a more sad, pleading expression on the Juggernaut's face in all the yahrens that Adama had known him. "Adama, please," Cain kept his tone even, but there was no mistaking the emotion he felt. "Don't make my last battle an act of mutiny. Let me....." He took a breath, "Let me do the job I should have been there to do six sectars ago when the Colonies needed me. Let me give what's left of the Colonial nation some long term security that it needs to survive. Please," now there was no mistaking the desperate pleading in Cain's voice, "Adama please send me in with your blessing." The Juggernaut's words cut through the hearts of every one on the Bridge who could hear him. Adama glanced to his right and could see it on Tigh, Athena and at the next console, from Omega. And he could feel it himself. There was no way he could let Cain feel a sense of dishonor at a time such as this. In Cain's mind, this was his only opportunity to make up for the greatest shame in his life. And for all the reassurances he had tried to give Cain, Adama knew that he too had felt the same way about what might have been, had Cain been there six sectars ago. This was a burden that Cain could never have lifted from his heart until he made a statement that would make a real impact in the future of the Fleet's survival. "My prayers go with you, Cain," Adama finally spoke, "And all who serve you." Cain smiled in understanding. "Thank you, Adama," he said. "I won't say goodbye. Perhaps.....the Lords will grant me one more miracle in my life." And then, his image faded from the screen. Adama found himself choking back a sob in his throat as he held onto the arm of an empty chair to steady himself. "A very curious development has occurred, Baltar." Lucifer said as he made his way over from the main banks of the Control Center. "It seems that the Pegasus did not bother to head back to rejoin the Galactica when our fighters moved off toward Gomorrah." "What?" the traitor's face contorted. "Has she then turned tail and disappeared off into deep space?" "She has not." Now, the exasperation Baltar had been feeling all day long boiled over. "Then if the Pegasus did not head back towards the Galactica and she did not head off towards the stars, then where is she?" his voice rose to an angry shout on the last three words. "Towards us, Baltar." The IL's answer was totally matter-of-fact and nonchalant. "Towards us?" Now the anger was replaced by confusion once again. "But that's absurd! He's allowing us to destroy the Galactica and the Fleet. Why would Commander Cain let that happen, unless-----" he suddenly broke off as another realization dawned on him. "Of course," he whispered, more to himself than to Lucifer as he turned around and started to pace in the other direction. "Commander Cain, the greatest legend in all the annals of Colonial military history. The man who wasn't there six sectars ago when the Destruction took place. He doesn't care about the Fleet or the Galactica, he wants to make up for that. That means he----" He abruptly came to a stop. "Yes, Baltar?" Lucifer again inquired in a totally indifferent tone. The traitor turned around and now looked both angry and panicked. "He wants me! He wants to make up for his failure to save the Colonies by getting me!" Seething, he came up to Lucifer and motioned his arm, "Lucifer, recall all our fighters at once!" "With all due respect, Baltar," Lucifer seemed unfazed, but inside practically reveled in this display of Baltar's true nature. "We have as yet received no indication that His Eminence, the Imperious Leader, is completely out of danger from the assault the Galactica has inflicted on Gomorrah. Do you think he would take kindly to the news that even with the firepower of three baseships to just the one of the Pegasus, you saw yourself as being in greater danger?" "The Leader is perfectly safe in his bunker or wherever they've taken him!" Baltar spat. "If he were in real danger, then Cain would have headed back there and made certain they would have killed him! Now do as I say, and recall those fighters now!" Lucifer was convinced that carrying out the order would all but insure Baltar's death sentence once the Cylon ruler learned of these events. And so, there was no further hesitation as he bowed obediently, uttered the familiar "By your command" and turned away to carry out the order. "Commander," Tigh reported. "The incoming Cylon attack force has suddenly turned around and is headed back the other way." "Cain was right," Adama sighed. "Baltar's more interested in saving his own skin than he is the Imperious Leader's. That means we can recover our remaining vipers and get them refueled before they resume their escort mission for the tankers back to the rest of the Fleet." "ETA to rendezvous with the Fleet in about one centar at this rate. The tankers will need about another centar at their reduced speed." "The more reason to have fully fueled vipers escorting them. Start recovery operations immediately." "Yes sir," Tigh nodded and gave the order to Omega. When he was done, he rejoined Adama on the upper level. The Galactica commander looked as though his mind were a thousand light yahrens away. Which in fact they were at that micron. A flood of memories were flashing before his eyes at that instant. Of a brash young cadet with the greatest instinct for tactical battle planning that he'd met and befriended at the Academy. Of a proud, egotistical ensign he'd flown with on the Cerberus, who had resisted working with Adama at first because of their competing views of tactics, but then embraced him once they'd done several missions together with great success. Of the young war hero, already a legend at the rank of lieutenant, acting so nervous and awkward the night Adama and his wife Ila introduced Cain to Ila's childhood friend Bethany, whom Cain was instantly smitten with and would marry just sectans later, but not before he'd first made a fool of himself by spilling a full glass of brandy all over his future wife on the night they met. Of a fellow battlestar commander, leaving Adama in awe with each new account of his unbroken string of triumphs. Of the despair he'd felt two yahrens ago, when the news had come through of Cain being lost at Molocay. Of the jubilation of just a few days ago, yet seemed now like yahrens ago, when his friend had miraculously come back from the dead. Of the sadness and desperation he'd seen in Cain's face just centons ago, as though his friend knew that the last chapter of his life had now been written. Or had it? Somehow, even now, Adama couldn't bring himself to say that all was hopeless for Cain. He'd seen his friend pull himself out of impossible situations all the way back to their days together on the Cerberus. It wasn't realistic, but it wasn't beyond comprehension to think that somehow, the Lords might indeed be able to provide Cain with the instinct for survival yet again. "Let it be so," he whispered to himself. "Let it be so." In the Pegasus launch bay, Apollo and Starbuck already could see the stretchers moving in with the wounded, as each one was loaded aboard a shuttle. They could also see a steady stream of Pegasus crewmen, most with the insignia of Staff Services and Colonial Security moving aboard too, all of them coming from the "nonessential ranks" of personnel. "Apollo," Starbuck said, "Did you notice there's no one from Silver Spar down here, ready to fly escort with us?" "I noticed. Looks like they're all going to stay right here." The captain then shook his head in amazement. "I think I really underestimated how deep their loyalty to Cain is." Before Starbuck could add to that, they saw Cain emerge from the turbolift. The Juggernaut stepped across the tarmac and came up to the two Galactica warriors. "How are things proceeding, Captain?" Apollo noticed how most of the swagger still seemed to be in Cain's walk, yet it also seemed as though he could tell it was all a facade at this point. "We should be ready to launch in about ten centons, Commander." He said evenly. "Excellent," Cain smiled and made a characteristic sweep of his swagger stick. "Good luck to both of you. You're both fine warriors." "Well sir, between Blue and Red Squadrons, we know we'll be able to get your people to safety." "I know you will," Cain continued to smile and waved his stick again. "That's why I'm trusting both of you." "Uh.....Commander," Starbuck spoke up, feeling slightly awkward. "I ah...." "Yes, Starbuck?" "Well sir, there are those of us who......don't have a lot of attachments. At least I don't. I'd........like to see this one through with you to the end." The Juggernaut's expression didn't change, while Apollo was wondering if his friend had suddenly cracked just like Taggs had. This didn't sound like Starbuck at all. "I appreciate your offer, Starbuck." He patted him on the shoulder. "But it isn't necessary. I think you've pretty much gathered that all the rest of Silver Spar's pilots are doing just that, and there's no point in you or anyone from the Galactica doing likewise. Especially when you're needed to provide escort for these shuttles in case they run into the returning Cylon fighters. Besides," he paused and then looked the lieutenant in the eye. "You do have some attachments of your own to think about. Don't forget that." Starbuck felt himself stiffen as he realized what Cain meant. And he also realized that he didn't need to hear Cassiopeia tell him what her decision was. The answer was already clear. "I won't, sir," Starbuck managed to reply. "Good," Cain patted him on the shoulder again. "Now you just give Apollo all the help he needs, and everything will be fine." "But sir," Starbuck felt the need to go on. "You're.....not planning on using Silver Spar's fighters against the baseships." "No," he shook his head. "Tactically speaking, they'd be of no use in this kind of engagement. When you've got all your guns firing at a baseship and they're firing back at you, and then you have missiles potentially flying at them as well, your vipers have a greater chance of getting burned in the crossfire than they do of getting in any shots of their own. Better to just hold them back for safekeeping. This is going to be a contest between their weaponry and ours." For the first time in a long while, Apollo felt the old admiration he'd carried inside for yahrens about Cain, coming back. To hear Cain talk of keeping his vipers in reserve for "safekeeping" could only mean that the Juggernaut still had every intention of surviving this battle somehow. And that kind of optimism in the face of all odds that dictated against it, was in large part the reason why his career had been such a success down through the yahrens. "Sir," Apollo said with total sincerity, "On behalf of the Galactica and everyone in the Fleet, good luck to you." Cain's only response was another smile, a final motioning of his swagger stick, and then he turned and was gone. As soon as they were alone, Apollo turned back and gave Starbuck a quizzical look. "Why did you offer to stay with him, Starbuck?" He asked. "That isn't like you at all." The usually brash warrior looked as though he'd been completely intimidated. "I don't know," he sighed, "I guess....I think I was trying to make some kind of statement to him, about how I was......" he then stopped and shook his head again. "Nothing. Just forget it, Apollo." His friend nodded in understanding. It had nothing to do with Starbuck suddenly flipping out, or being serious about putting his life on the line. It had everything to do with the on-going triangle involving Starbuck, Cain and Cassiopeia. And now, Cain had all but admitted to Starbuck that it had been settled in the lieutenant's favor. "Apollo," Starbuck was still focused on where Cain had disappeared from view. "Why do I just have the feeling that we'll never see him again?" "I don't know Starbuck," the childhood awe he'd held for Cain now seemed fully restored. "Because believe it or not, I don't have that feeling." Starbuck looked at him, slightly surprised. "And I can't explain why, because there isn't any military way he can survive." Apollo went on. "But then again, that's been the whole story of his career, hasn't it?" "I guess so," Starbuck sighed. "Come on," Apollo motioned. "Let's get to our ships." After leaving Apollo and Starbuck, Cain had gone to the other side of the launch bay, where he could see more of the stretchers from the Life Station being unloaded for transport to the shuttles. He was determined to wait for one in particular. Finally, he saw the one that held Sheba emerge. He instantly came over to his daughter's side and looked down at her with the greatest air of paternal love he could summon. "You take care of yourself, baby," he said softly as he reached down and gently stroked her hair. "Father please," Sheba was totally pleading, "Don't make me go. I don't want to leave-" "You must go, sweetheart" he said simply as he kept stroking her hair. "You'll be okay. Just always remember how much I love you." He squeezed her hand tightly one last time then turned to the med-techs accompanying the stretcher. "Get her aboard quickly and prepare to launch." Cain then abruptly turned away from the stretcher as it was wheeled off, not wanting to see Sheba trying to rise up and hold out her arm to him, pleading still to stay behind. It would have been too much for his system to take and he knew he would have broken down if he'd kept his eyes on her any longer. He almost didn't feel Cassiopeia putting her hand on his shoulder. "Cain," already her voice was cracking and it finally made the Juggernaut turn to face her. "You're a very special man. A hard man, but a very special man. I'll-" she choked back a sob in her throat. "I'll never forget you." Cain was past the point of being able to say anything more to her. All he could do was respond as she leaned in and they shared a kiss on the lips that was all too brief. And then, the med-tech regained her composure, smiled one last time and departed. When Cain finally managed to turn around and watch her disappear inside one of the shuttles, it was with the feeling that one chapter of his life was now closed. For five centons, the Juggernaut lingered in the launch bay, watching the final preparations as each of the shuttles moved into position. While simultaneously in another section, the viper pilots were all strapped in and ready. Only when the shuttles began to launch did he finally feel the strength to go back to the Bridge. When he arrived, he saw Tolen rise from his chair. "All ships launched sir and are on course back to the Main Fleet. They've been given a vector that should keep them out of the scanning range of the returning Cylon fighters." "Excellent," Cain began to feel his full vigor return. "Are we staying ahead of them on track to the baseships?" "Affirmative," Tolen nodded and punched up several new readouts on the navigation board. The telltale shapes of three Cylon basestars were now visible at the extreme edge. "Range to baseships, 3000 microns and closing. ETA to fighter return, not until at least five centons after we make initial contact with the baseships." "Good," Cain nodded and then stopped to look thoughtfully at his executive officer. "Tolen, you've.....been doing an excellent job. I......should have told you that you were under no compulsion to stay aboard if you chose to leave." The executive officer smiled thinly and shook his head. "Sir, I've been privileged to serve you for fourteen yahrens on this ship. I never would have considered that for a micron." "Thank you, Tolen," Cain smiled back. "Now let's keep our very important appointment with a man named Baltar." "Yes sir!" Tolen's smile broke into a grin. Baltar had now retreated back to the solitude of his main throne room again. His mood had now settled into that of a black depression. Wondering why it was that Fate was always conspiring against him at every possible turn of his life. The Destruction, when he'd seen the results of the previous Imperious Leader's double-cross with his own colony destroyed; Charybdis, his most faithful lieutenant abandoning him at his greatest centar of need. On Kobol, when Adama had rejected his offer that would have guaranteed revenge against the Cylons for their treachery. And now, this. When it had finally been in his grasp after so much careful thinking, it had been snatched from him again. When he heard the doors slide open, he didn't bother to turn his throne chair around to face Lucifer. "How long before our fighters can return to defend us?" His tone matched his depressed mood. "I am afraid the Pegasus will reach us first." Baltar finally swung his chair around to look directly at the IL. "Then drop back. Let the other two baseships intercept the Pegasus. And make preparations to go to emergency light speed if we must." "Baltar, I am not sure that the commanders will appreciate that." "That isn't a request, Lucifer," the traitor's voice grew cold. "It is an order. And since by order of the Imperious Leader, I am the commander of this taskforce, they will obey it!" His words ended with a hiss. You won't be commander much longer, Lucifer thought dryly. But knowing he wasn't at risk, he merely bowed and once again uttered the familiar phrase he hated so much before leaving. "Two baseships coming into range, the third has fallen back behind them." Tolen said. "That will be Baltar's ship." Cain anxiously tapped his stick against the railing. "Plot a course between those two forward ships." He then moved over to the other side of the upper level and looked down, "Major Ham, activate all electronic defenses, and initiate on-line sequencing for all missile banks. We'll use every last one at our disposal if we have to." "Yes sir." the dark-skinned major also had a satisfied grin on his visage. There was largely silence among the Galactica's pilots as they escorted the shuttles back on a heading toward the main Fleet. Too much had happened that day for all of them, and the sense of unease and uncertainty they all felt over the possible fate of the Pegasus was still too much for them. Finally, Starbuck decided to break the silence. "Apollo?" The captain frowned as he realized that the signal was coming through only on his own individual frequency, meaning no one else could hear it. "Yeah, Starbuck?" "Apollo, I just checked the scanner and they were right. Our vector's going to take us well out of the path of the returning Cylon fighters." "That's good, Starbuck. That was the whole idea, so the Cylons can't stumble on the 220 unarmed ships and have open target practice on them." "I know, but don't you see, Apollo? That means these shuttles, and the Fleet for that matter, don't really need our protection." "What are you getting at, Starbuck?" Apollo asked, thinking he already knew the answer. "I mean what's one more viper, or two?" He paused. "If you get my meaning." Apollo let out a mirthless chuckle, "Yeah, Starbuck, I do. But what you're talking about is violating orders." "Whose?" "Cain's." "Apollo, how can we be accused of violating the orders of someone who isn't following orders himself?" Apollo then chuckled with some mirth, "Somehow, that makes sense to me. But Starbuck, do you really think we can do much for him? He's not even sending his own vipers out against the baseships." "Come on, Apollo," Starbuck chided. "You and I know what it's like to go up against a baseship with just our own vipers, with one determined battlestar commander leading us in, remember?" Apollo sighed as the memory of Carillon, and the sacrifice of Commander Fairfax leading the two of them in on the dangerous run that had led to a baseship's destruction, came back to him. "Okay, buddy," he said. "I guess this is where Purple and Orange Squadrons finally get their turn, right?" "Thought you'd see it that way." Starbuck grinned. "I do," Apollo switched his frequency to the one for all squadrons. "Boomer?" "Yo." the acting leader of Red Group acknowledged. "Boomer, you're in command of the whole unit." Apollo said. "Starbuck and I want to check out our rear flank." There was a brief pause, "How far to our rear?" "Boomer, don't ask too many questions." "That's what I thought," he almost groaned and then cocked his head toward Apollo's viper. "If you want one more unwilling volunteer again....." "No, Boomer. Not this time. Just keep leading them in." "Okay," he said reluctantly. "Good luck." And then, Starbuck and Apollo activated their turbos and left the formation of vipers, headed back in the direction of the Pegasus. "Commander?" Ham was frowning. "Two vipers approaching from our rear at attack speed. Indications are that they're on intercept course for the lead baseships." Cain turned away from Tolen's station in perplexed amazement. "Well who are they? Where----" then he stopped as he realized he didn't need to ponder the identity of two viper pilots coming back to join the battle. "Put me through to them, immediately!" "Tied in to unicom, sir." "Commander, ETA to baseships now four hundred microns and closing!" Tolen warned. "Stand by all laser batteries!" the Juggernaut barked and then picked up the headset on his console. "Captain Apollo? Is that you?" "Affirmative, sir." Apollo replied. "On behalf of Purple and Orange Squadron, we're here to lend you a hand." Cain smiled at what he knew was a joke for phantom squadrons but still kept his voice firm. "Apollo, there's little good you and Starbuck can do against them. In just another few microns both of them and us are going to have all guns blazing." "This is different sir." Apollo interrupted. "A whole squadron is a ripe target in the crossfire, yes. But the two of us sir, we're insignificant. The baseships are going to be focused on you, and they won't be watching for two vipers aiming at their forward missile banks." He paused. "Like you said, Cylons don't have the independent initiative to notice something like that." Cain found himself grinning at this kind of maneuver that was straight out of his own handbook. "Well put, Captain. But don't stay in there longer than you have to." "We won't sir. Signing off, and good luck again." "Two hundred microns and closing!" Tolen called out. "Battle stations!" Cain barked. "Positive shield, and seal all compartments!" "Their range to the Pegasus is now 150 microns, Apollo," Starbuck radioed on the scrambled circuit. "Okay," Apollo said. "Let's get between them first. Even if they spot us, they can't open fire with their attack gun batteries without hitting each other. They have to keep their fire concentrated forward at the Pegasus. When we get between them, we peel off and take out the forward missile batteries on both of them." "Sounds good. I've got dibs on the one on the left." "Copy that. I'll take care of the other one." The two vipers continued to streak forward toward the massive bulks of the two baseships just ahead of them. "Brilliant, just brilliant!" Cain was still in a state of enthusiasm as he could see the vipers streak ahead of the Pegasus toward the two baseships on his monitor. "They're going to clear a path for us to get between the two ships." "Third baseship continues to drop back." Ham reported. "Potentially plans to go to lightspeed." "He can't." Cain shook his head. "He still needs to recover his remaining fighters when they get back, so he has to stay in the area." "Fifty microns and closing Commander, they've commenced fire with their main batteries!" Tolen's voice rose. "Commence fire on all laser batteries now!" Just as Cain finished the order, the first barrage of laser fire crashed into the battlestar. Apollo and Starbuck both reached the point in between the two baseships the instant they had begun opening fire on the Pegasus. "Whoa, that was close!" Starbuck heaved a sigh of relief. "Another half micron and I think I'd have still been in the crossfire." "We're secure now from their own laser fire," Apollo said as he felt the sweat break out on his forehead. "But we can't stay here long, because we can easily get hit by the Pegasus' guns if we're not careful. Peel off and aim for forward missile banks now!" The two of them then broke away, with Starbuck taking the baseship on the left flank, Apollo on the right. As soon as Apollo found himself in the open space between the upper and lower overhangs of the baseship's cylindrical shape, he couldn't help but feel awed by the sight. Never before had he been this close to a baseship to see the kind of workmanship that went into their construction. He certainly could not feel anything but respect for how the Cylons built their weaponry. "It's almost nice in here, knowing they can't open fire on us." He said aloud. "I wonder what the inside of one of those things looks like?" "Believe me, Apollo, you're better off not knowing." Starbuck chimed back as he set his sights on the missile launchers at the front section of the cylinder. "Take it from one who has seen the inside of them." "Sorry," Apollo chuckled. "Just a crazy thought of mine." He then set up his attack computer so it was trained on the open conical shapes that concealed the tubes where the baseship's most powerful weaponry would emerge from, in the event they were launched. As soon as it blinked, he opened fire. The lasers impacted on the conical shapes and instantly deformed their shape beyond recognition, rendering the tubes totally useless. "Got 'em!" Apollo shouted with exhilaration. "Executing reverse thrust and getting clear!" "Direct hit!" Starbuck matched his exhilaration. "And I'm putting my foot to that turbo and getting clear too!" "Let's stand by at a safe distance and keep our eye on what happens!" More shots from the two baseships struck the Pegasus. She managed to keep returning fire through it all, but it was clear that the two to one advantage in laser fire from the Cylons had resulted in more damage to the battlestar. Then, the laser barrage from the two baseships abruptly stopped. "Sir, scanners show the forward missile batteries of the two baseships have been incapacitated." Tolen's voice rose. "They're now rotating to get into position to use their rear missile batteries." "That's why they've had to stop firing their guns at us!" Cain grinned and looked down at Ham. "Status of all missile batteries?" The major looked up. "All missile banks are on-line and standing by." "This is it!" The Juggernaut motioned defiantly. "Stand by for point blank fire of port missiles on the port flank baseship, and starboard missiles on the starboard flank! Even her shields won't be able to help them then." "Standing by." Ham's voice was also rising. "Contact to point blank range in thirty microns, twenty-nine, twenty-eight......." As the countdown progressed, Cain absently took one glance at the navigation board that indicated where Baltar's baseship was in relation to the other two baseships. It was continuing to drift further and further back. Already, the germ of a new idea was forming in his mind. "Twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen......." "They've rotated completely now and are commencing fire with rear guns and indications are that their rear missile launchers are on-line!" Tolen cut in. "Too late for that, now." Cain said, as his mind continued to race. "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, MARK!" "Fire all missiles!" "Starbuck, let's get out of here! The Pegasus is launching her missiles!" Apollo warned as he maneuvered his viper further back so that all three warships were in his field of vision. "Right with you!" Starbuck felt his hair standing on edge inside his helmet as he looked back out of the corner of his eye and saw the fiery plumes emerge from the front section of the battlestar. The two vipers continued to move away. Every few microns, both Apollo and Starbuck continued to glance back over their shoulders to see if they could figure out what was happening. And then, Apollo felt his eyes tear up at the sight of a gigantic flash of light that totally obliterated the blackness of space in his field of vision. Starbuck managed to turn around and saw the force of the initial explosion die down slightly. He could tell right away that the first baseship on the left was no longer where it had been. Then he was forced to turn his head away when there was another powerful explosion that also seemingly illuminated the entire quadrant. Apollo knelt his head down to shield his eyes and wipe at them. He had a fraction of a micron in his rapid blinking to glance at his scanner and see the shape of the second baseship suddenly disappear. But then, the pain in his eyes forced him to close them again and he could almost see the flash of another explosion even with his eyes shut. The captain managed to lift his head and look behind him. "Did you see that?" Starbuck sounded dazed as he kept his head averted. "I can't see anything but spots." Apollo found it impossible to distinguish anything amidst the scene of one minor explosion after another and he turned away again. "I've never seen a flash like that." "Can you see the Pegasus?" Apollo managed to look back. The explosions were dying down and he could now see the blackness of space reemerge. But nothing else. "No," he shook his head. "There's too much smoke and debris. What does your scanner say?" "I can barely see my scanner in front of me!" Starbuck said as he blinked again to get his eyes to clear up. "He's not on the scanner. I don't even see Baltar's ship on the scanner. What do we do now?" The sound of loud blips on Apollo's scanner sent a jolt through the captain. He managed to look down and was able to make out the large block letters that said CONDITION ALERT. "Here comes their entire attack force!" Apollo shouted. "We have no choice. We go home as fast as we can! They're almost out of fuel now so they can't pursue us back." "I'm with you, buddy," Starbuck nodded fervently. As he prepared to activate his main turbos, he glanced back one last time at the scene of the dying embers, and pounded his fist in frustration that there was no definite answer to be had for now. All was quiet inside the command center as Baltar calmly marched into the room, having decided that too much time had elapsed since the last update. "Status report?" Baltar's voice was flat and terse. "I regret to report that our two sister ships have been destroyed," Lucifer said. "And the Pegasus?" "There is no sign of her on our scanners." For the first time, the traitor seemed to relax. "Then at least she has been destroyed too." Lucifer hesitated slightly, "Presumably." "Not presumably," Baltar's voice grew cold, "If the Pegasus survived, she'd be on top of us by now. Commander Cain was after me specifically. And he is a man who never deviates from a set plan." The IL Cylon refrained from commenting. It would have been all too easy to note that had Baltar not ordered his own baseship to drop so far back, they would have been able to confirm one way or the other if the Pegasus had been destroyed. But in the few centons since Baltar had moved the command ship back, they had managed to fall completely out of scanner range of her two sister ships and the Pegasus. Technically speaking, it was only clear that the Pegasus had disappeared. "By your command," the sound of the command centurion broke the silence. "Our returning fighters from Gomorrah report they are very low on fuel and need to land immediately." "Begin recovery operations." Baltar rose from his throne chair. "And prepare them for a new strike on the Galactica?" Lucifer inquired. Baltar came to a stop next to his second-in-command. "No," he shook his head. "Not yet. I am through engaging in conventional strikes in which one time after another, incompetent pilots demonstrate their constant inability to finish off the job! No, Lucifer, our next move requires something totally different. Something that will guarantee the Galactica's destruction once and for all!" He paused. "I want a feasibility analysis on what would happen if all of our fighters were loaded with solonite and engaged in a direct assault aimed at the most vulnerable areas of the Galactica. And I want that analysis complete within the next centar!" Baltar prepared to leave the room at the same brisk pace he had entered it. But Lucifer was not about to let him go just yet. "Baltar," he called after him. "The Imperious Leader is surely in need of a status update by now." The traitor stopped in mid-stride and gave his second-in-command a contemptuous smirk. "There will be no communications with Gomorrah unless the Imperious Leader himself initiates them, Lucifer. In the meantime, we will not make contact until our new plan of attack is in place, and not before!" And then, before the IL could say anything else in reply, Baltar had gone back to his throne room. Epilogue Twelve centars had past. Twelve long centars for Adama and everyone else now gathered in the Galactica's Life Station, waiting to see when Sheba would finally come around after being under sedation ever since her arrival on the Galactica. Somehow, each one of them, Adama, Apollo, Starbuck and Cassiopeia felt an obligation to be there so they could make what they had to say to her as gentle as possible. "Another centon," Cassiopeia said. "It's wearing off now." "How are her chances for recovery?" Apollo asked. An edge of concern in his voice that had been almost constant since his return to the Galactica. Indeed, Cassiopeia had noticed with amazement how Apollo had seemingly gone out of his way to make one stop after another in the Life Station for updates on her condition. "Like I've told you, Apollo, one hundred percent perfect. Her lung's been reinflated and after another twenty-four centars rest she should be released." "Good," Apollo said thankfully. Adama quietly made his way over to the side of the room and carefully activated one of the communications vidcoms. "Colonel, anything new to report?" he quietly inquired. "Fuel distribution to all ships in the Fleet continuing," the executive officer replied. "We should be able to get underway at full speed in another few centars." "Good. Any sign of Cylon patrols from that last baseship?" "None." Adama paused. "Any further word on......." he trailed off. "No sir." Tigh said quietly. "Still directing unibeam signal on com-line alpha frequency." "Thank you." He switched off the vidcom and went back over to Sheba's lifepod. He looked down and noticed that Commander Cain's daughter had finally come to. She seemed totally spent. "Not too long," Cassiopeia said. "She needs to build back her strength." "Hello Sheba," Adama smiled down at her. Slowly, with some difficulty, Sheba lifted her head so she could look up at him. "Hello," she whispered. There was a slight forlorn edge in her voice, but thankfully Adama and everyone else could tell that she didn't seem to sound as depressed as they might have feared. "Any word?" she asked the first question that she needed to ask. "No," Adama shook his head gently but kept smiling. "But that's nothing to be concerned about. Your father wouldn't dare break radio silence if he were too far away to contact us on Com-Line Alpha, and risk giving away his position by using an unscrambled long-range frequency." Sheba bit her lip and then managed to nod her head and smile weakly in return. "Thank you for trying." She glanced up at the ceiling. "What are the odds he survived though? Three baseships worth of fighters returning by then? Baltar's baseship still out there? And did he----" she uneasily swallowed. "Did he even make it past the other two?" Apollo suddenly took a step closer to her so that he stood next to his father, right above Sheba. "What were the odds when we all thought you were lost two yahrens ago?" his voice was instinctively soothing and gentle. "You know how much of a survivor your father is, Sheba. You can't think any less of his ability now, can you?" he smiled. His remark seemed to make some impact on her and she managed to smile and nod her head again. "You know," Starbuck said brightly. "As far as I'm concerned, he just headed out into deep space like he did the last time. Those Cylons couldn't have followed him with empty fuel cells. They'd gone a long way already, and Baltar probably had to stop and pick all of them up, so he couldn't have had time to follow him either." "He's right, you know." Adama nodded. "Your father did something very brave that's crippled the Cylons ability to harass us for now, the way they have these last six sectars. And I somehow suspect that right now, he wants to make some trouble for them in their own backyard that'll make it more difficult for them to keep up a meaningful pursuit of us." Sheba settled her head back in her pillow and again stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. It almost seemed as if some of the black clouds of depression had dissipated from her somewhat. For the first time, Adama was aware of how much Sheba was the image of her mother, who had been such a close friend of Ila's. The memory of that friendship, as well as the friendship he had shared for so many yahrens with Cain, now made what Adama had to say next an obligation that he knew he had to carry out. "Sheba," Adama said gently. "I know how difficult a time this is for you, and how it will mean adjusting to a new life with us. I want you to always know, that until your father makes contact with us again, I want you to consider yourself a part of our family." He then reached down and squeezed her hand. Sheba looked up at each of them, and this time her smile wasn't as weak as it had been. "I already do." And she then squeezed Adama's hand tightly in return. Continuum As Baltar sat in the throne chair located inside the command center of his basestar, he could hear the gliding noise of Lucifer approaching. Almost immediately, he had an inkling of what the IL Cylon was going to tell him. "By your command," the IL Cylon said in that outwardly deferential tone that always made Baltar feel a twinge uneasy. "Speak," he waved his hand. "We have a message from Gomorrah. Imperious Leader wishes to speak to you directly." The human traitor sunk back in his chair. As he'd feared, the message he'd been dreading for two days now, was finally coming. "Is our new plan ready to be put into effect?" he asked. "It is," Lucifer admitted. "Then I shall speak with him," he rose from his throne chair, "Once he is appraised of the new plan, that should settle all matters with him." The IL Cylon resisted the urge to issue a mild retort. As far as he was concerned, it would take a lot more than a new battle plan to get Baltar off-the-hook after all that had happened two days ago at the Battle of Gomorrah. What was supposed to be a "rout" and a "massacre" of all that remained of humanity, had instead turned into an unmitigated disaster for the Cylons, with two basestars destroyed and serious damage inflicted on the outer capital of Gomorrah. Where the Imperious Leader himself had been present to dedicate the new garrison. And now, two days later, Baltar would be hearing from the Cylon ruler for the first time since the battle. The human traitor walked at a brisk pace into the next room, where the communications set-up was. With a calm, collected expression, he flicked on one of the console switches. In an instant, Imperious Leader's face filled the screen. "Your Eminence," Baltar bowed slightly and kept his tone deferential, "We are glad to know that you are still safe." "We can dispense with formalities, Baltar," the Cylon ruler sounded thoroughly displeased, "I want a full status report, now." Baltar sucked in his breath, "Our two sister basestars have been destroyed. But so too, has the Battlestar Pegasus." "Are you certain of that?" the Leader's question was pointed, "Did you confirm her destruction, or did she just 'disappear' as she did at Molocay, two yahrens ago?" "Well sir, I admit that we have no floating space debris to confirm that, but it is my firm belief that there is no possibility she could have escaped without being detected by us." "Somehow, your 'firm beliefs' have given me less cause for assurance than before," there was an acidic edge in the Leader's retort that managed to send a brief chill up Baltar's spine. He found himself unable to respond, but then Imperious Leader resumed in a decidedly less harsh tone. "No matter though," he said, "Right now, you are not the one I have more anger with, Baltar. The entire command infrastructure of Gomorrah, from Commander Keldor on down, lied to both my predecessor and me for two yahrens, and never told us that the Battlestar Pegasus was still alive and well and causing all the trouble here. They have all been forced to pay the appropriate consequences for their incompetence and their treachery." "Yes, and I would also remind you, that any failures caused in the recent battle were also due to the fact that Gomorrah never told me about the Pegasus either," Baltar interjected. "No need to defend yourself, Baltar," Imperious Leader now sounded totally reassuring, "I am not planning any disciplinary action against you at the present time." Instantly, the human traitor felt his body relax as a wave of intense relief filled him. Behind him, a sensation of stunned disbelief went through every circuit in Lucifer's body. "What is the status of the Galactica and her fleet?" the Leader resumed. "She shall be dealt with as soon as you and I are through talking," Baltar spoke with renewed confidence, "She has not been as quick to elude our monitoring of her since leaving the Gomorrah quadrant. As a result, we are ready to launch a new assault that will guarantee the Galactica's destruction." "How?" Imperious Leader asked with a hint of skepticism. "I have spent the last two days, arming our squadrons for a special mission," he said, "Our fighters are being packed with solonite, and will be instructed to ram the Galactica. The combination of that and the solonite in the fighters will set-off a chain reaction of explosions that will destroy the Galactica without the need for any sustained battle." There was a brief silence from the other end of the transmission. "Baltar," the Leader said, "You are aware that by loading your fighters with solonite, you are all but insuring that they will be totally impotent in direct engagements with the Galactica's vipers." "I'm aware of that," Baltar admitted, "That's why I'm loading as many fighters as I can. The greater volume will insure that some will break-through the defense lines and be able to ram the Galactica." Imperious Leader was silent again. "We have reached the stage where an admittedly desperate measure is now called for," Baltar resumed, "After what has gone on in the last two days, I do not believe that a conventional assault will be sufficient, and," he paused briefly, "As the last combat-ready basestar in this quadrant, I don't believe it wise to engage the Galactica in a direct ship-to-ship confrontation at this time." "Agreed," the Cylon ruler seemed to sigh in resignation, "Your plan has my approval. Carry it out." Baltar allowed himself a faint grin, "Thank you, Your Eminence." "Inform me of how events develop when you can." "I shall. Oh, and there is one other thing." "Yes?" "Since you have conducted a justified purge of the administrative leadership on Gomorrah, I believe you will be needing to appoint a new base commander." "Do you have any recommendations?" "I do," Baltar said, "There is an IL Cylon aboard my ship who served with distinction as commander of a small garrison on the planet Atilla. He's been in need of a new assignment since climate conditions forced him to abandon the garrison." "Is he reliable?" the Leader asked. "He is. His name is Spektor." "Hmmm, I shall give his name strong consideration. Thank you Baltar." "Until later, Your Eminence," the human traitor again bowed slightly as the Cylon ruler's face faded from the screen. With the transmission ended, Baltar turned to Lucifer, and grinned more broadly. "You see, Lucifer?" he said with that aura of smugness that had not been there for days, "The Leader is most understanding when it comes to realizing where the larger blame lies." The IL Cylon did not reply. He found it absolutely incredible that Imperious Leader had let Baltar off so easy. And to learn that incompetent Spektor would very possibly be heading up the new garrison as well? He knew perfectly well that the only reason why Baltar had recommended Spektor was because of the way the older IL Cylon had stroked the traitor's vanity with effusive compliments of praise during his last dispatches from Atilla. All of which, Lucifer was convinced, had been an elaborate smokescreen to cover-up Spektor's own incompetence, although he'd never been able to prove that. "Launch all fighters, Lucifer." It took Lucifer all his strength to reply, "By your command," as he then turned and glided out of the room as fast as his circuits would allow. [Continued In "Battlestar Galactica: Fire In Space"]