The Game of Life
by Seanchaidh
October 5, 1998

	"The game of life is hard to play,
	I'm going to lose it anyway.
	The losing card I'll someday lay,
	So this is all I have to say..."
		-Theme from M*A*S*H, "Suicide is Painless"

Part 1 - The Planet Starbuck

	Starbuck hated being alone.  No, that didn't quite cover his
feelings.  He hated being alone on a planet with a voting populace of
one, with no feasible way of leaving.  That was about it.  For the first
time in his life, he was truly alone.
	Some people might think of his predicament as being the basis for a
religious experience, but he would have argued against them
wholeheartedly.  Religious meant being enlightened spiritually, or even
with knowledge.  That would never happen on this world.  Unless it meant,
as he began to suspect, that the exile would form visions or
hallucinations which could be interpreted as religious.  That was always
possible.
	When he first arrived, he'd been involved with the strangest
situation he'd even seen.  Imagine, a human rebuilding a Cylon so he
could just have some conversation.  He'd heard a joke that his friend
Jolly had once made, that his people were forced to look to God as an
equal in conversation; but the way Starbuck looked at it, that would be a
pretty one-sided conversation, no matter how interesting it might get. 
He still couldn't believe he'd done it, but even so, he missed Cy.  The
Cylon's conversation wasn't the caliber he would have had with, say,
Cassiopia or Boomer, but here, it was enough.  If anything, that was
enlightening.
	Then came the really strange part:  Cy's discovery of the pregnant
woman, Angela.  Although he had no hard facts, he had his suspicions of
who and what had sent her.  It occurred to him later, as an afterthought,
as he'd looked over to where he and Cy had built that small craft
bastardized from a Viper and a Raider.  It had carried Angela and her
infant son from the approaching Cylons, and as he looked at what was
left, he remembered her cryptic words.  She'd been an unusual one,
Angela, and her words were ringing bells in Starbuck's mind.  Oh, well. 
He'd find out if and when they came.
	The routine of Starbuck's life was simple.  Wake up.  Do nothing, or
maybe do some exploring.  He couldn't go very far, but upon his return,
eat a little more of what remained of his emergency rations.  Go back to
sleep.  It was dull, but eventually, Starbuck found that he didn't mind
it.
	The discovery that the desert-like world actually had seasons
stunned him.  Hot and dry days, and cold and dry nights gave way to cold
and wet days, and snowy and freezing nights.  A limited kind of
vegetation appeared around his homestead, and he was relieved to discover
that it was edible.
	Once he realized that no rescue was coming from the Galactica,
Starbuck forced himself to forget them.  It was the only way for him to
survive.  The less he thought of them, the better off he was.  Boomer,
Cassiopia and his daughter Derdre; Athena, Sheba and his nephew Josce...
they became phantoms to him.
	He only allowed himself to think of one individual, and only because
the person was already dead.  If it were true that spirits of loved ones
guided an individual after death, then Starbuck sincerely hoped that the
spirit of Apollo was with him.
	Yahrens ago, it had been too difficult for him to think of his
friend, who had been taken much too early.  He still painfully remembered
that day, and how it felt to hold Apollo's body in his arms as his life
slowly drained from him.  Before his death, Apollo made him promise not
to tell anyone back on the Galactica about his fate, and it was a promise
that Starbuck had tried his best to keep.  Because of that promise, he
felt that Apollo owed him.  All he asked in return was his help.
	Starbuck thought so much about his dead friend that images of Apollo
would appear in his dreams.  Often they began as memories, when the two
then-young warriors would go on any number of adventures.  Starbuck's
overactive imagination would take them to new dimensions.  Instead of
boring reality, the imagined pair would go off on new adventures that
never, ever failed to end in a chancery.  Starbuck would wake up
laughing, the echo of Apollo's wry comments in his ears.
	The day, however, his dreams took physical form made Starbuck wonder
about his sanity.  He was wakened by the loud sound of a shuttle, or at
least what sounded like a shuttle.  Rising quickly from his bed, he
grabbed his parka and holster to go outside.
	He couldn't see anything or anyone immediately outside his makeshift
cabin, but then again, there was the mass of rocks that shielded him from
the high winds that tended to develop at night.  Walking quickly, but
quietly, he went to the area where he'd buried the fallen Cylons in
mounds of rocks.  That was where he found them.
	Humans.  He could see that right away.  Two men and two women, all
of whom were wearing Colonial Warrior battle suits.  Two were exploring
the mounds, the third was on guard, and the fourth was circling the area.
	Delighted to see that they were warriors, but wary nonetheless, he
rested his hand on the butt of his laser as he made his approach.  The
closest warrior, a young man with dark hair that was a little too long
for regulations, had his back to him.
	Walking carefully, Starbuck approached him with the intent of
speaking to him.  Before he could make a sound or even take a step, the
warrior spun around to face him, his laser at ready in his left hand. 
They both froze; Starbuck because he didn't want to get shot by a
possible comrade, and the warrior because he seemed to have been reacting
on instinct, not actual input.
	They stared at each other for a few microns.  Starbuck took in the
very familiar young face, then the captain's pins on his collar.  He
widened his eyes in surprise as he took in the entire sight of the young
man.  The patch on his right shoulder wasn't of the Galactica, but of
another battlestar.  He wasn't surprised to see that it was one of the
Pegasus.
	He briefly wondered what the boy thought of him -- and the warrior
was definitely a boy, not much older than perhaps twenty-five yahrens. 
As for Starbuck, he didn't think he looked his forty-plus yahrens, thanks
to the tendency for the aging process in Colonial humans to be extended
several times, but for all he knew, the wear of the exile was making him
look twice his age.  Before he was marooned, his once blond hair had
darkened to a light brown, but the constant exposure to the planet's
harsh suns had bleached it completely, and his skin had suffered the same
abuse.  His face and arms, and any other patch of exposed skin, were
darkly tanned.  He no longer wore his flight jacket, finding it more
useful now as a pillow, but his uniform had seen better days.  Worn and
stained from dirt and sweat, it could have been mistaken for anything
else.  All that remained clearly was the Galactica's patch on his arm.
	The laser didn't waver, and Starbuck felt prompted to raise his
hands up to show that although he wore a holster, he was otherwise
unarmed.  The young man's eyes, a dark green that was flecked with brown
to make the color border on hazel, narrowed as he examined the man
standing in front of him.
	"Uh, hi, there," Starbuck finally said, his voice sounding strange
and unused to his ear.  The sudden sound brought the attention of the
other three warriors to them.  They dropped whatever they had been doing
to join their wing mate and their guest.  "If you don't mind, kid, I'd
appreciate it if you didn't shoot me.  It would be a shame for me to live
all these sectars alone on this planet, then die like that by accident. 
As you can see, I'm human."
	The captain's face changed expression several times, ranging
anywhere from shock to uncertainty, and then from doubt back to
uncertainty.  Seeing his hesitation, one of the other warriors spoke.
	"You're from the Galactica?"
	He smiled, glad to see that they recognized the checkered pattern of
his battlestar.  "Yeah.  At least, once upon a time."
	"How long has it been since you were stranded here?"
	He didn't like the officious tone in the woman's voice, reminding
him of someone who liked to think that they were important.
	"Would you mind telling me the yahren, then?"
	"It's 7366," she replied.  "Nearing the second last sectar."
	"Ah.  Well, I guess it's been a good ten sectars.  It's hard to keep
track when everything's the same every single day."  Although Starbuck
tried to look each warrior in the eye, his gaze continued to return to
the laser and the captain who held it.  "Kid, would you mind moving that
thing?  Please?"
	After a micron's hesitation, he finally put the laser away, then
hazarded to speak.  "What's your name, then?"
	He grinned.  "That's one thing I can tell you.  Flight Lieutenant
Starbuck, first class, at your service.  Look if you're from the Pegasus,
I'd like to see Commander Cain.  Okay?  He's going to want to know that
I'm here, and...  Is there a problem?"
	The captain had started laughing, softly at first, then, unable to
contain it, out loud.  His wing mates looked at him strangely, but he
shook his head and tried to collect himself.
	"You're still a lieutenant after all this time?" he said, a large
grin on his face.  "Kobol, how'd that happen?  I'd think that you would
have been made captain of Blue Squadron after all that.  Did it go to
Boomer?  Or Sheba?"
	Starbuck frowned at the captain.  Were the Pegasus warriors given
that much instruction about the Galactica in their courses?  Just in case
they overcame the fleet and needed to get their away around?  It made
some sense to Starbuck, but this young man certainly seemed to be more
familiar than he should with the structure back on the Galactica.
	"Uh...  I think I missed all your names during the introduction," he
said slowly, not taking his eyes off the captain.  The more he stared at
him, the more disturbed Starbuck felt.  He had the feeling he hated, when
he knew the answer but it wouldn't come to mind.  He had to know this boy
from somewhere, but it couldn't have been the Galactica, which meant
their first encounter was on the Pegasus.  But the more he thought about
the events that occurred around the Battle of Gamoray, the more he
realized that this young man would have been only a child when the battle
was fought.  He didn't recall hearing anything about children aboard the
battlestar, and that left him even more stumped.  Maybe the introduction
would give him some clues.
	"I'm Colonel Hagan," the second male said for the first time,
looking between his fellow pilot and the older man standing in front of
them.  "Silver Spar Flight Leader.  This is Captain Poinciana..."  The
woman who started the interrogation nodded "... and Lieutenant Bina..."
The second woman smiled shyly at the mention of her name "...and you've
already run into --"
	The male captain spoke in a hesitating voice this time.  "I guess
you wouldn't recognize me like this, Starbuck.  It's me.  Apollo."
	"I don't think so," he shot back, looking up and down at the
impostor even as he realized that he'd finally put his finger on the
nagging feeling -- rather, it had been placed there for him.  Now that he
thought about it, the resemblance between this boy and the friend whose
memory he cherished was eerie.  "Good try, though.  Apollo's been dead
for nearly ten yahrens, and you can't tell me anything that will convince
me of your words."
	A mirthless grin appeared on his face.  "I'm not denying your words. 
I'm just telling you the truth.  Go ahead.  Ask me anything at all."
	Undaunted by the challenge, and ignoring the reactions from the
other pilots, Starbuck shook his head.  "Fine.  When did we meet?"
	"We were both about fifteen yahrens old, and we were at the same
secondary school in Caprica City.  We were friends ever since, and after
we joined the military, I finally was transferred to the Galactica where
we became wing mates."
	For a few microns, Starbuck's mind was a blank.  He had no doubt
that he'd win, but as he tried to think of points to ask, he wondered
which ones were wise to ask.  A lot of their relationship, at least back
in the fleet, had become the stuff of legends that were passed in the
junior ranks of the pilots, and even among some of the civilians.  He
needed to use personal information, maybe even test to see what he knew
of what Apollo had known at the time of his death.
	"Everybody who saw Apollo and Serina with me would have thought that
the three of us got along just fine, but --"
	"You were jealous of her.  You told me so just before we launched on
our patrol and discovered the void holding Kobol.  You also swore me to
secrecy about that."
	"Right..."  Starbuck remembered seeing the laughter and appreciation
in Apollo's eyes during that incident.  Eyes that were remarkably the
same color as those he saw looking at him at that micron.  The topic of
secrecy reminded him of their last few centons together, and of the
promise he'd carried for the past nine yahrens.  "If you're really
Apollo, then would you care to tell me what in Hades that was all about
back on that planet?"
	The three warriors looked concerned at the hint of anger that
appeared in Starbuck's voice.  The man who claimed to be Apollo was
unaffected by the tone, but disturbed by the question.  He looked away,
past Starbuck toward the makeshift cabin.
	"I told you I'd see you later," he finally said, turning to look
back at him.  "I had no idea it would be like this, though.  At the time,
I was thinking about something a little more celestial, I suppose."
	Apollo's last words were a sentence that he'd uttered countless
times before during their friendship, but at that last micron, as his
body tensed and his spirit prepared to leave, it took on a whole
different meaning.  Starbuck remembered repeating the phrase as he found
himself holding a limp and lifeless body.
	"How in Hades...?" he trailed off in questioning tone.  Somehow, it
was truly Apollo standing in front of him.  How, and why, was something
he wondered if he would ever get the complete answers for.  "You were
dead, for Sagan's sake!  I buried you, and then I set the wreck on fire. 
You were as dead as you were with the incident with Count Iblis! 
How...?"
	"Is that your cabin over there?" Apollo asked, motioning to the
structure.  "If it is, why don't we go sit down and get out of this sun. 
Maybe that way we can explain things to each other, and see if we can
reach some kind of understanding.  Believe me, Starbuck, it's not
something you can easily believe......"

Part 2 - A new beginning

	It was like being in a sea of warmth, and its waves lulled me into
the depths of sleep.  For more time than I could keep track of, I drifted
in and out of sleep, a part of my brain aware that this was the first
time in most likely yahrens that my body felt so relaxed.  The closest
was the evening Sheba and I had shared not quite a secton before, but
this was even better than that -- but only slightly more.  Sheba
certainly had her charms.
	I smiled slightly, my eyes still closed.  Someone -- I suspected
Athena -- was taking care of Boxey for me, and when -- if? -- I finally
got out bed, I'd have to thank her.  Not having my son around meant that
I'd get all the sleep I deserved and my body wanted, providing an alert
wasn't called.
	I approached the edge of consciousness, but still wasn't quite
there.  After another centar or two, I realized that I'd had enough sleep
for the time being.  My eyes still closed, I started to sit up, expecting
to flip the blankets aside so I could slip out and get ready to go.  To
my astonishment, though, my body held a surprise for me.  I was so weak
and sluggish that it seemed like my limbs and muscles were refusing to
obey my brain's commands.  I sank back down to the bed, my head spinning
with the sudden movement.
	"What in Hades?" I said out loud, opening my eyes to the dark.  My
voice sounded strange in my ears, and my eyeballs were resisting any
sudden movements.  I felt like I'd been lying motionless for yahrens,
like some kind of mythological being held in stasis.  "What's wrong with
me?"
	As I stared up in the dark, wondering what the situation was, a
half-forgotten image forced its way into my memory.  I tensed as I
realized that all this shouldn't be happening...  In fact, I shouldn't
even be thinking that this shouldn't be happening!  Hadn't I died?
	The memory of lying on the cold ground, sprawled like a rag doll, my
legs trapped in the agonizing embrace of my Viper... it was all too vivid
to be a dream.  I could recall the agony in my legs, the throbbing in my
head, and the dull pain in my insides.  Most importantly, I remembered
Starbuck holding me in his arms, trying to comfort me as I lay dying.
	My last thought had been how the pain was going to end for good, but
a new thought occurred to me now.  Maybe I had just convinced myself that
I was dying, but had simply just lost consciousness?  Starbuck might have
succeeded in rescuing me from the wreck, and was able to bring me back to
the Galactica.
	But I knew the answer to that before the idea finished forming. 
Even with my limited medical knowledge, there was no doubt that the
injuries I suffered were too extensive for me to be relatively intact
right then and there.  I would still have the agonizing pain in my legs,
and I had no doubt that I would have been immobilized so Salik and
Cassiopia could make sure that the crushed bones were healing in some
semblance of their original form.
	And Father would have been there, watching over me like an avian.  I
knew from past experiences that he would insist on being at my side,
waiting for the micron when I would regain consciousness.  There was no
sign of him now.
	I shook my head, feeling the initial disorientation growing.  I
couldn't be on the Galactica, and I wasn't supposed to be alive.  So
where was I, and why was I still alive?
	"Where am I?" I muttered, looking blearily about me as I realized
that my voice was slurred, as though this were really only the second
time in my entire life I was speaking.  Very carefully, I propped my
elbows behind me so I could peer into the darkness.  As near as I could
tell, I was alone.
	The shadows weren't about to give me the answers I needed, so I
gingerly got out of my warm bed, and attempted to stand.  I swayed
dangerously on my feet for a few microns, and it felt like the blood was
rushing from my head down to my toes.  Gritting my teeth, I managed to
keep my balance, then tentatively, took my first few steps.
	As soon as I made the first real movement, the illumination in the
room increased dramatically.  I narrowed my eyes to allow them to adjust,
peering around the hand I'd quickly raised to shield them.  As it turned
out, I wasn't alone; I could see five other beds like the one I'd just
vacated, scattered around the perimeter of the room.  Walking carefully,
I ventured over to the first one, wanting to look in.
	At first, I thought that the bed had a reflective surface, but my
hand passed through it, shattering that thought.  That was the only way I
could explain the familiar face.  The facial shape, the lips, nose, and
dark hair; they made the face identical to mine.  He was me... or was I,
as a voice whispered in my mind, him?
	The body didn't appear to be ready to move the way I was, so I left
it.  Confused, I went over to the next two beds, only to be greeted by my
face again.  By this time, I was feeling very unnerved, and I felt myself
want to panic and run.  My pulse was quickening, and it was making me
feel dizzy.  In a fight or flight situation, I'd probably faint.
	I backed away from the beds, moving until I hit the empty fourth
wall with my back.  Something dug into my side, and I turned to find a
control panel.  Eagerly, I turned to it, wishing that I had the technical
knowledge Boomer and Starbuck possessed that might help me with this...
situation.  All I wanted was a way out.
	Looking at the console, I realized that it controlled an alcove of
some kind, whose seam I could barely make out in the metal wall.  I
prayed that it was a way to get out of this Hades' hole of madness, and I
sighed in relief when I heard a click, telling me that the alcove was
going to open.
	My scream of frustration echoed around the room when it finished
opening.  It wasn't an escape, but more a kind of storage closet for a
container.  It was big, about a metron taller than I was, and two times
as wide as me.  Inside was a yellow liquid, illuminated to a citrine
brilliance by the lights installed above it.  Inside, there was a dark
object suspended serenely in its depths.
	The clothes of a warrior were the first thing I recognized, and my
eyes sought out the familiar patch of the Galactica on the right upper
arm.  There was something odd about the entire body, and my gaze was
drawn down to the lower half of the warrior.  From mid-thigh and down,
despite the heavy black boots, the legs were visibly damaged, almost to
the point of being shattered.  The pants were bloody, and I stared at the
crooked limbs for a few microns, then gradually looked up, to where the
face was, framed by dark hair that was hovering in all directions.  It
was completely undisturbed by any movement from the liquid.
	It was me inside the container; or more precisely, it was the real
me.  The Apollo who had died in Starbuck's arms, trapped inside the Viper
that he had crashed.
	My stomach lurched as I felt myself wanting to panic again, this
time because of the feeling of utter helplessness I felt.  Someone had
claimed my body back on that planet, and somehow cloned it.  We were
Kobol knew where, and here I was, conscious and aware in the clone of my
own body.
	I staggered back, tripping over my own feet, and landed in a heap on
the floor.  Even in my sprawl, I couldn't take my eyes away from the
wall.  I brought myself into a little ball, curling up against a console,
staring up at my suspended body.  It was like looking into an aquarium,
which housed a macabre fish that hung perfectly still in the water. 
Idly, I wondered what it was, the yellow substance.  Its color didn't
affect the pallor of the skin, but it did bring out the dark bruise that
covered a good portion of the forehead, and surrounded a gash.
	I continued to stare at my former body, but somehow, I dozed off.  I
hadn't even realized it until I nearly jumped out of my skin when there
was a definite human touch on my arm.  I wondered hesitatingly if it were
one of the other clones awake at last, but I opened my eyes to see a
different face.  Even so, it was familiar, and I watched the man as he
looked at me in concern.
	"What are you doing there?" the man asked, his face kind.  He
reached out again, this time touching my forehead.  His fingers brushed
my hair away, a fatherly gesture that made my heart sink.  I was overcome
with a need for my own father, and I closed my eyes at the touch.  The
voice continued.  "No one told me that you, or any of the others, were
ready to wake up."
	He had the tone of someone who is speaking to a very young child,
not really expecting a response.  I reopened my eyes, studying his face
intently.  I knew him, that I had no doubt, but I was having difficulty
with that memory.  The long, dark and somber clothes; the craggy face and
graying hair...  His name was on the tip of my tongue, but refused to
come.
	"You must be cold on the floor," he continued, then glanced at the
bed I'd vacated who knew how long ago.  "Let me help you up, Quintap."
	I didn't respond to the name, but instead just looked at him.  The
man sighed as he put his arm around my shoulders, pressing firmly so he
could aid me in sitting up.  I felt my muscles protest, since they'd
grown stiff from the cool deck.  Carefully, he maneuvered me back to the
bed, setting me on the edge as he stepped back.
	"Now, let's check you out," he said, returning his attention to my
forehead.  I could barely feel his fingers on my skin, but when the look
of intense concentration came across his face, I suddenly gasped.
	"Doctor Ravishol?" I ventured, my voice soft.
	"Dear Kobol," the doctor gasped, snatching his hands away from me as
though he'd been burned.  "You're not...  I mean, Segundman told me that
they hadn't begun the memory transplants yet!"
	"The what?" I asked, trying to get comfortable on the edge of the
bed, but whatever Ravishol's touch had done, I felt a sudden wave of
weakness wash over my body.  I fell back toward the other side of the
bed, feeling the back of my head touching the wall.  Wide-eyed, I stared
at Ravishol, and pleaded, "Please, tell me, what in Hades is wrong with
me?"
	"Let me help you," Ravishol stammered, and he aided me in getting
into the bed.  He pulled the sheet over me up to my chest, then stared
down at me.  I could tell that he was avoiding the questions I'd been
asking, and was instead focusing on the mystery that my consciousness had
presented him.  "What is going on with you, Quintap?  We're going to have
to restart from the beginning with you, I'm afraid."
	"Quintap?"  The name sounded funny.  "That's not my name.  Don't you
remember?  My name is Apollo, not --"
	Ravishol shook his head, then pointed at the suspended body.  "That
was Captain Apollo, you are Quintap.  You are the fifth clone from that
experiment."
	I felt so frustrated that I barely suppressed the urge to burst out
into tears.  Why was I feeling so emotional?  Insistently, I shook my
head.  "No, I am Apollo.  I don't know what's going on, but I know who I
am.  I'm not somebody named Quintap."
	"I believe you think you are Apollo," the doctor said slowly, and I
nearly laughed out loud.  Since when was this biologist, physicist, and
Kobol knew what other science he had under his belt, practicing
psychology?  He must have seen the merriment in my eyes, because he
became even more somber.  "However, I cannot accept it just yet."
	"But my name isn't Quintap.  I'm Apollo.  Can't you at least call me
that?" I pleaded, really disliking the name, and even more, disliking the
way I was having to beg for something as simple as being called by my
given name.  "Besides, what are the other ones called?"
	"Unoap, Segundap, Tercerap, Quadap, and Siap," Ravishol said
matter-of-factly, and I did laugh this time.  The doctor's system of
classification was very logical, but equally strange-sounding.  I had yet
to meet anyone named Tenna or Ser Five-Nine.
	"So it won't make a difference if you call me Apollo or not," I
insisted, pressing my argument because I had the feeling that I was
making headway.  "I doubt that any of the others will be making the same
claim that I am."
	"Perhaps," the scientist admitted, then sighed.  "Go to sleep
then... Apollo.  We have a long process to go through tomorrow, and
you'll want to be rested."
	Ravishol's statement was an understatement.  I woke up centars later
to find my body awash with pain.  I struggled, trying to move and find a
way to escape, but my arms and leg, along with my head, were all
restrained.  My eyes opened to a haze of red, with shapes of darker red
moving about around me.  All I could hear was the sound of my own cries
in my throat.
	The torment disappeared after a few centons, and my body collapsed
into limpness; my heart slamming against my ribs, and my lungs feeling
like they could never draw enough air.  I realized that tears were
running down my cheeks as I became aware of the source of my pain -- a
regular and insistent throbbing in my right temple.
	"It's over," a slightly accented voice said, and I opened my eyes
again, this time to see everything normally.  Two more familiar faces
were looking down at me.  "How are you feeling?"
	All I could do was moan.  My body was still restrained, but I
doubted that I could move even if I were free.  I studied the petite
face, recognizing her as a member of the same series as Tenna.  The other
person, a man that would tower above me had I been standing, was
undoubtedly from the five series along with Ser Five-Nine.  I wondered
briefly if these were the same clones I had known briefly on Arcta.
	"The pain will subside in a few microns," the series five said, the
same gruff voice I remembered from Arcta.  He was right, and I felt the
pulsing pain go down significantly as I wondered if he knew how I felt
because of experience.  I studied his face, and discovered something on
the side of his head where mine was pulsating.  It was partially hidden
under his hair, but it caught the light easily.  It appeared to be an
implant of some kind, and when I glanced at the woman, I saw that she had
one as well.
	"How are you feeling?" the Tenna clone asked, her hand reaching out
to touch my shoulder.  All I could do was blink at her, and she looked up
at the man.  "Do you think we can undo him now?"
	"I don't think so," he said, looking down at me.  I was beginning to
feel dizzy, and I had to admit that I was relieved that I couldn't move. 
"Dr. Ravishol hasn't returned yet to give us other instructions."
	I knew that they weren't the same clones, since those used to call
Ravishol the "Father Creator."  I wondered what happened to them as I
heard footsteps coming into the room, and the same voice from yesterday
spoke loudly, "Is it finished?"
	"Yes," the small blond responded.  "It has completely been put in
place, and there are no adverse affects."
	"Excellent," the doctor muttered, and he came over to look at me. 
He brushed the hair from my forehead again, and this time peered intently
at my head.  The skin was tender, and I winced as he touched it, but when
he moved his fingers to my temple, I realized with a start that I
couldn't quite feel it.  "Everything is satisfactory.  Release him."
	The series Five moved, and I felt a slight pressure being removed
first from my arms, then my legs, and finally from my head.  I relaxed
slightly as I moved my head to the side to look about the room, and I
realized that I was still the only one of my... series to be conscious. 
Then my vision blurred as vertigo overtook me, and I shut my eyes tightly
as I waited for it to pass.
	"Doctor..." the Tenna clone warned as I took a few deep breaths.
	"Yes, yes, I see," Ravishol chided her.  I felt his hand on my
shoulder as he said seriously, "Just keep on breathing deeply, Apollo, it
won't take long for it to pass, don't worry."
	But I was worrying, and when I finally opened my eyes to see a room
that was perfectly in focus, I cautiously sat up.  When I realized that
the dizziness wasn't going to return, I dared to speak.  "What have you
done to me?"
	They exchanged looks, then Tenna tentatively reached out to grasp a
reflective surface, and she placed it in front of me.  My reflection
glared brightly back at me, and I could the tear-streaked face, the
wide-eyed expression, and the hint of something that wasn't fleshed
colored hiding underneath my hair.  With wide eyes, I pushed my bangs
back to completely expose my forehead, and was greeted by the sight of
something that looked like a small computerized implant of some kind.  It
fitted naturally into my temple, without jutting out and looking any more
strange than it already did.
	And whatever it was, it couldn't be removed.  I ran my fingers
around it, trying to find its edges, but it smoothed seamlessly to the
skin next to it.  It was in, and it was going to stay.
	"What is it?" I asked, holding the mirror up to take a good look at
it.  I noticed what appeared to be tiny buttons on its surface, and they
gave the implant a sort of engraved look.
	"You are an augmented clone," Ravishol began.  "That means that you
are human, but you are a human with implants that will aid you."
	"What design?" I continued.  "Your own?  And for what purpose?  And
more importantly, where did you find me?  And why me?"
	"One question at a time," he soothed, looking perturbed.  Both he
and the other two clones glanced at the doorway before he would continue. 
"Your body was brought to us by an advanced scout.  When you were
discovered, you had only been deceased for little more than a day, if
that.  I had requested some new samples to be brought in, and your
genetic structure fit in very nicely."
	"I'll bet it did!" I snapped.  "And what do you mean by an advanced
scout?"
	Ravishol sighed.  "Listen to me, Apollo, and listen to me carefully. 
After you and the Galactica's fleet left Arcta twelve yahrens ago, we
were left defenseless.  It was only by chance that the next group to make
contact with us weren't Cylon.  They were called the Shelborn, and they
are a race of humanoids who have used technology to augment themselves."
	"Augment?" I repeated.  "What does that mean?  They're cyborgs?"
	"Yes.  They hate the Cylons as much as we both do, and they are
determined to see them be destroyed."  Ravishol sighed again.  "They
allowed me to continue my experiments, and they especially wanted those
that dealt with biology and cloning.  I tried first on my original Theta
life forms, but I needed more, less predictable material.  So they
brought you to me."
	"So what does this augmenting do?"  I reached up to touch the
implant again, not able to get over how odd it felt.  I could remember
one time when I was a child, when I had hit my head against a table
corner.  The result had been a large bump, and my young fingers couldn't
stop touching it because it felt so different compared to the rest of my
head.  My mother told me that it would never heal if I kept on prodding
it, and finally I listened to her.
	This time, Ravishol smiled, and I knew that meant that he was very
proud about whatever had been done to me.  "It's quite amazing, really. 
Using the Shelborns' technology and adapting it with whatever we had back
at the Colonies, I can now make all your senses nearly twenty times
better than they were before.  Not only that, but you can process
information faster.  It'll be quite the asset in a fighter, I'm sure!"
	"Is that a fact?" I asked, a smile of my own coming onto my lips. 
"Then why is it taking me a long time to grasp all this?"
	"Because it hasn't finished installing itself in your brain," the
doctor replied.  "It takes generally two days to fully develop, and
barring any possible rejection from your body, it should be fully
functional within a secton.  In fact, you should begin to notice
differences today."
	"Fully... develop?"  Every time I asked a question, I was getting
something that made me feel even more worried than before.  "Ravishol,
you're making it sound like something that's alive."
	"But it is alive," he said.  "Not sentient, but it's like a vine
wrapping through a tree.  It makes itself at home, and does what we tell
it to do."
	"A vine in a tree eventually kills its host," I told him, and he
nodded, not saying anything.  "So, what is this implant going to do to
me, if you're going to compare it to the vine?"
	His smile faded slightly.  "It's programmed to prevent the Cylons
from taking prisoners.  If you're captured by them, it has a
self-destruct mechanism in it that causes a brain aneurysm.  It takes
around five centons to develop, but it's irreversible."
	I shivered at the thought of not being able to control what became
of me.  Of course, it wasn't like this was the first time something was
done to me that wasn't of my own accord.  I just seemed to have that kind
of luck.
	"So now that this... thing is in my head, and I'm here and at your
disposal, what next?  What's the purpose of this life?"  The question
sounded odd even to me.  There were people who went through their entire
lives, trying to discover what the meaning of their own life meant, and
here I was, having it given to me on the second day of my rebirth.
	Tenna's clone spoke up this time.  "What we all do.  Combat the
Cylons, and destroy as many of them as we can."
	"With fighters?"  She nodded at my question, so I continued.  "All
right, then, but whose?  Colonial or Cylon?"
	"Neither one," she replied.  "We use Shelborn crafts, and they're
more advanced than anything the Cylons have seen."
	"One of my series brothers is in charge of training," the series
five said.  "His name is Tetrad, and when you're ready, he'll begin to
familiarize you with our ships."
	"When will I be ready?"
	"With the way you're going," Ravishol told me, "very shortly."
	Very shortly turned out to be two days later.  It was also
incidentally the same day that the other five clones were allowed to gain
awareness.  When I woke that morning, I was immediately greeted by the
sight of multiple versions of myself standing and sitting.  It was quite
the sight to behold, and I couldn't get my mind around the concept that
these were not versions of me, but were different individuals who just so
happened to share the same genetic structure.  The concept that worked
best was that we were identical sextuplets, especially since that meant
that I was the oldest of them, something that definitely wasn't a foreign
concept to me.
	It was quickly obvious about what the augmentation implants were
used for.  Within mere centars of awaking, the clones had near perfect
Colonial Standard, though they lacked the slight accent that every
Colonial possessed in some form or another.  A few centars after that,
they knew almost everything that had taken me the first twenty-two
yahrens of my life to learn, and then some.  By the end of the day, they
were ready to begin the training I'd started.
	It was disconcerting to hear my voice being spoken around me, not to
mention seeing my face at every turn, but it soon became clear to me just
how different they were from me.  For a start, they lacked the maturity
I'd gained, and their personalities were markedly different from mine. 
While I was still the same reserved stick-in-the-mud that Starbuck loved
to challenge, these five clones were light yahrens apart, rather the way
twins are different.
	Unoap was loud and boisterous, while Segundap was aggressive. 
Tercerap loved giggling -- something I'd never done.  Quadap never
stopped talking, while Siap was always questioning.  It was enough to
drive me up a wall, but after a day or two of training, their
personalities settled down into something slightly less irritating.
	The one thing they never did was question the purpose of the
suspended body inside the container.  I wondered if they even noticed it,
or if it even caught their curiosity.  I was used to it by now, but it
served as a reminder of my current situation; a reminder punctuated by
the dreams I had of that day.  I kept on dreaming of Starbuck, Sheba, my
father, Boxey, and all those I'd left behind on the Galactica.  When I
woke in the middle of the night, I'd still have in my mind the images of
my last few centars as that crushed body that was now displayed like some
kind of a trophy.
	One evening in the middle of training, I was heading back to our
room, leaving the other five with the different clones who made up the
populace of what I could only surmise was a base of some kind.  I'd known
from the first day that this wasn't a ship, but I also knew it wasn't
Arcta -- everything was too new, and I was warm here.  Except for
Ravishol and the clone's children, most of us were clones, just like at
Arcta.  Unlike that icy world, and the few clones we'd gotten to know
there, this place was different, and I was beginning to get an uneasy
feeling about it.
	I think the reason was because I hadn't seen any sign of these
mysterious Shelborn, other than the implants that I and the other clones
carried about.  I wondered what they looked like, if they were more
similar to humans, or if they'd been so possessed by their technology
that they were like Cylons.  I looked for signs of them on our base, but
I didn't see anything to suggest their immediate presence.  To myself, I
imagined them to be larger than humans, with more implants than I had
body parts, with voices that weren't quite like ours, but not quite Cylon
either.
	I got my mental picture when I accidentally walked through a hallway
that I'd never been to before, and at the end of it had a room with very,
very large chairs -- too big even for a series five.  And no one knew, or
rather they wouldn't tell, what they were for.
	As I neared our room, I heard someone coming up behind me, and I
turned to see one of the series five.  Thinking that it was Tetrad, or
maybe Segundman -- the one who had been in the room when my implants were
put in -- I smiled in greeting.  Even if I were antisocial by nature in
this place, I could still be polite.  My smile faded as I realized that
this was a new one, but he was also vaguely familiar, in that he was
older than the other two, and had a more seasoned look about him.
	"Apollo, I must speak to you," he said, using my real name instead
of the Quintap tag that had been constantly used by the others.  "It is
I, Ser Five-Nine."
	I stared up at him in shock, recognizing him.  I'd been under the
impression that none of the original clones from Arcta had survived,
especially since I hadn't seen anyone in my eight days of life.  I
managed to stammer out, "Where?"
	"Just follow me."  We walked in silence to the same room that I'd
discovered, and once we were both perched in the chairs, he started
talking.  I was relieved when he didn't do the same marveling that
Ravishol had done when I first told him that I was who I remembered.  He
simply accepted it and moved on.  "There is a lot I must tell you."
	He started off by explaining the day the Shelborn arrived on Arcta. 
Life had gotten into a kind of routine when their fighters landed on the
same landing area where my team had left sectars before.  Apparently the
aliens had known all about Ravishol through captured Cylon intelligence,
and they felt that Ravishol could help them.
	What they needed were pilots and other warriors to help fight the
Cylons, and they agreed that since they were both enemies of the Cylons,
they were natural allies.  They formed an agreement, stating that the
Shelborn would protect Ravishol's community by moving them to a safer
planet, in exchange for clones.  Ravishol hadn't seen any problem in
that, and before long, they were on planet called Paka, the one we were
on now.
	History repeats itself, and the Cylon tyranny the clones had
vanquished with our help was only replaced by the Shelborn.  Clones began
disappearing, under the pretense that they were being trained to fight
the Cylons.  Tenna was among the first to go.  The new clones that were
being produced, along with the children who were born both on Arcta and
on Paka, were being given the first of the implants that were now
routine.  Ser Five-Nine had discovered accidentally that they included
tracking devices, when a group of children had disappeared into the
forest outside the base.  It was a search that might have taken his team
several days, but the Shelborn discovered them on the better side of two
centars.
	"We cannot escape the confines of the base, unless we are being
taken to fight," Ser Five-Nine explained.  "The implants are like a
double-edge sword.  They help those who bear them to become better
warriors, but they can spell their bearer's death should they be
captured.  I suspect that even if you succeed in escaping from here, the
implants would kill you even then.  They remain stable so long as you are
near Shelborn technology, for they give off sufficient amounts of energy
that keeps the implants in prime condition."
	"It sounds like a death trap," I said, shivering.  I glanced at the
chairs that surrounded us.  "Tell me, what do the Shelborn look like? 
They must be huge."
	"Larger than you or I," he confirmed.  "A full length taller than
you, with a body to match their height.  They are humanoid in appearance,
but much of their body is covered by their own implants."
	"And that's all we know about them?"  I was slightly disappointed,
but there was a look about Ser-Five Nine that told me not to ask any more
questions.
	"Apollo, that is all I can tell you for now.  Just know that you'll
learn more when you reach full pilot status."  He glanced at the chrono
he wore, then quickly jumped out of his seat.  "I must be going, or my
absence will be noted.  I will find you again."
	The next time turned out to be another few days later.  By that
time, we'd moved from the simulators to real ships, and they were unlike
anything I'd ever seen before.  They were nearly the same size as Cylon
Raiders, but they were much more advanced.  Holographic displays
surrounded the cockpit, and as I soon found out, we were to interface
directly to the ship.  The implants would allow us to do that, and we
could process through the data and incoming telemetry about sixty times
faster than an unaided pilot would by himself.
	I was assigned to a fighter with Siap, and I found that he was the
least annoying of them all.  Even now, there were times when I was
positive that I would strangle the other ones, and I continued to stay
away from them as much as possible -- I think that I'd rather be around
Starbuck at his worst.  Nevertheless, as our training reached its final
days, it wasn't very hard to see that Siap and I were the best wing
mates.
	There were only a few times when I saw Ser Five-Nine about the base,
but they were usually in passing, so we couldn't stop to speak.  When he
pulled me aside one morning, nearly a sectar into my new life, I was
relieved to see him.
	"I have news for you, Apollo," he began in his usual blunt fashion. 
"The Shelborn are coming."
	"Oh?"  Part of me was fascinated, the other half frightened.  I
ignored both parts as I continued with my questioning.  "What's the
occasion?  When are they arriving?"
	"Tomorrow morning," he said.  "They are coming to inspect Ravishol's
latest clones, namely your series.  Reports of you and your brothers'
progress has reached their superiors, and they are very impressed with
what they've heard."
	"Is that good or bad?"
	He shrugged.  "It all depends on how their war is going."
	Their war.  Not our war, but theirs.  The way Ser Five-Nine said
that disturbed me, like most other things here in the base.  I had a
fitful night's sleep, dreaming of strange shapes that loomed above me.
	The next morning, there was a lot of fussing going on, especially
when it came to us.  The ten series, along with Segundman, had brought in
new uniforms for us to wear; a long grey tunic that went to mid-thigh
with black pants.  I felt like I was looking in the mirror, seeing the
other five identical outfits on the identical bodies.  One thing was
different, though.  I had an extra accessory to my uniform, which
Segundman explained meant that I was the leader of our little squadron.
	The Shelborn were already in their room when we were called for our
presentation.  We filed in by culture number, with me being fifth in
line, and Ravishol greeted us, smiling proudly.  With a graceful sweep of
his hand, he motioned toward the aliens.
	And they certainly looked alien, or to be more precise, they looked
like humans would if they were crossed with Cylons.  The same height, or
maybe even a little taller than centurions, the Shelborn were more or
less covered by their technology.  If I had been fascinated by the way my
implant melded into my temple, then I was astounded by what I was seeing
before me.  Their bodies weren't bulky, but smooth and easy on the eye to
look at.  Even so, they just didn't seem... right.
	The only thing unobstructed on their bodies were their eyes, but I
assumed that even those were augmented somehow.  They were all different
shades of grey, and looking into the eyes of the Shelborn who I assumed
was the leader was like looking into a storm cloud.  It was there, but
you didn't know what was in it -- rain, hail, lightning, tornadoes...
	Formalities continued for the next few centons, then the six of us
were invited to sit in the chairs across from the guests.  There was an
obvious agenda going on, and I listened as attentively as I could, even
though the clones were beginning to act like six-yahren-olds, fidgeting
and muttering among themselves.  Poor Siap was all alone, since I sat
between him and the others like a wall.
	With the introductions, we weren't given names, but I was able to
ascertain the name of the leader, Klarc.  He was the tallest of them all,
and every few centons, he would turn his deep grey eyes to look at me, as
though searching for something.  I met the gaze evenly, matching the
intensity before he broke it off to return his attention to Ravishol.
	One piece of information was clear:  the Cylons had gained knowledge
of the base, and Klarc's people were certain that an attack was imminent. 
Under no circumstances were the Cylons to have more access to Ravishol's
work than they already gained on Arcta, so the entire station was going
to be moved to another planet.  We were going to leave in two days, which
was also when we'd begin our actual assignments in the fighters.
	They should have planned on having the evacuation the very next day,
because in the middle of the night before the departure, the Cylons
attacked.  I was jarred out of a dreamless sleep by the sound of klaxons
and shouts.  Segundman was rousing the others, who were groggily
responding.  As I quickly slipped into my uniform, I realized that this
would be their first alert.
	Ravishol ran in a few centons before the last two were ready.  His
eyes were wide as he looked up at his assistant.  He motioned to all the
equipment in the room.  "Quick, hurry!  Pack the most important parts
after you get them out of here!  The Cylons are on their way, and they're
due within the next twenty centons!  Hurry, for Sagan's sake!"
	The first four clones rushed past the two hurried men, but I stayed
behind.  I looked at the now familiar sight of my old body in the
container, then turned to Ravishol.  "What about that?"
	He looked at me blankly.  "What about what?"
	"My old body.  Are you just going to leave it here, or are we going
to take it with us?"  I wasn't sure which answer I'd be more content
with.  Putting it to rest was one thing that would make me feel a lot
better, if only because it was shutting the door on the first part of my
existence.  But on the other hand, if it was left behind, who would take
hold of it first?  I didn't want another round of Apollo clones running
amok in the universe.  Six of us were bad enough.
	The doctor pursed his lips together, looking up at the container. 
"We don't have enough time to get it into a separate container," he
decided.  "We'll leave it."
	And that was that.  Siap pushed me out of the room, and we hurried
down to the launch bays where the other clones were waiting in their
fighters.  We passed a group of Shelborn on the way, and I didn't have
time to look at them to see if they disproved of our late arrival.  I
could hear announcements being made over the speakers, but I ignored them
as we climbed into our fighter.
	Siap closed the hatch as I strapped myself into the pilot's seat,
and without a second thought, activated the link that would connect me to
the computers.  In a micron, everything took on extra depth, and I could
see everything around me, as though I had eyes everywhere and there was
no ship blocking my view.  The first few times, it had been so
disorienting that I hadn't been able to find my way around, but now, I
was used to it.
	The order came through to launch, and seeing that Siap was settled,
I hit the thruster button, and we were off with the others.  Within five
microns, we were out of the base and in space.  I heard the other ships
over the comline, sending messages back and forth as the convoy of ships
cleared Paka's atmosphere.
	"This is Telvus group," one of the pilots said, but I couldn't
recognize the voice and where it came from.  "Setting charges.  Paka base
will be destroyed in three microns.  Two, one, terminate."
	Even though it wasn't necessary, I set my holographic sensor display
back to Paka.  Almost instantly, there was a huge explosion, leaving an
immense crater and enough heat to start fires all around the former base. 
I shook my head, wondering just how desperate the Shelborn were not to
let the Cylons win the upper hand.
	Immensely, I thought, as Siap shouted for me to pay attention.  The
Cylon Raiders were descending on us, and without a second thought, I
brought our ship in to join the battle.

Part 3 - Memories of home and away

	The stars were twinkling as though they'd missed him.
	Starbuck smiled at the thought as he stood in the quarters he was
temporarily assigned to on the Battlestar Pegasus.  He'd already taken a
turbo-wash and everything else that would make him look the way he
remembered the last time he glanced at a mirror.  It was close, and it
would have to do.
	Private quarters were never something he'd warranted on the
Galactica while he'd been single.  Before he had moved in with Cassiopia
after their sealing, he was housed with the rest of the Blue Squadron
male pilots in the barracks on Beta Deck, and he longed for that.  Being
on the planet had been fine, since he knew where he was.  He dreaded the
next morning when he would wake up, knowing he was on a battlestar, but
the wrong battlestar.  Boomer, Jolly and all the others weren't here.
	But Apollo was.
	Starbuck grinned as he looked at the passing celestial lights.  Deep
down, he still was coming to the conclusion that what had occurred in the
past three centars wasn't real, despite all the evidence to the contrary. 
Still, it was a nice unreal reality.
	"What do you expect?" he sighed to himself.  "Having your friend
coming back from the dead isn't something that happens every other day. 
But I know it's him, just like I know I'm me."
	It was the same train of thought that had been plaguing him on the
shuttle, where the proof of the situation's reality had been sitting
directly across from him.  Apollo was sitting quietly in his seat, his
head tilted back in a manner that was all too familiar to Starbuck.  How
many times had he seen his friend do that, either on missions or on the
way to the Rising Star?  But this was different; much too different.  In
that position, Apollo's hair fell back from his forehead, exposing the
implant that he'd shown during his tale.  Starbuck couldn't help but look
at the obviously technological object embedded in his friend's temple,
and he shivered as he recalled its ulterior function.
	"I need a drink," he concluded.  The truth was that he wanted to
know everything that happened after Apollo's convoy had left Paka with
the Shelborn.  What occurred between then and now?  And how could his
friend survive if Apollo wasn't near any Shelborn technology?  To his
disappointment, the story had been interrupted by Poinciana, who had
stuck her head into the cabin, saying that they were leaving to head back
to the Pegasus.  Starbuck was invited to come, providing that he gathered
whatever he needed within the next ten centons.
	"Well, the real estate here isn't doing so well," he had joked as he
collected the few things that meant anything to him -- his old Viper
helmet and his laser.  There were others, like a rock or two he'd liked,
and perhaps some gardening utensils he'd fashioned out of a Raider's
hull, but nothing useful for his life as a fighter pilot.
	The ride back had been quiet until Starbuck saw something out of the
star field window.  He moved forward in his seat to get a better look at
what he realized now was a fleet.  Not the Galactican fleet, which he
knew had to be very far away by this time.  Instead, it was a different
one, and the ships appeared to be human, as well.  And there was the
Pegasus.
	It had been fourteen yahrens since Starbuck had last seen the
vagrant battlestar, and much had changed since then.  He could see the
numerous battle scars that lined her hull, and he marveled that she could
still be space worthy.  The battle at Gamoray with the three Cylon base
ships must have taken their toll on her, but knowing Cain, he pulled them
all through.
	The ship that shared the lead with the battlestar caught Starbuck's
attention.  She had as much damage as the Pegasus, but unlike her
companion, this ship was civilian.  The shuttle had to pass her first
before they could land on the Pegasus, and Starbuck caught the emblazoned
words "Star Kobol" on her hull.
	"May the Lords of Kobol continue to provide their surprises,"
Starbuck had whispered, using a quote he'd once heard.  It certainly fit
now.  The Kobol had been the presidential ship, the jewel of the Colonial
diplomatic fleet -- and long thought destroyed during the Annihilation. 
But here she was, just like Apollo, alive despite the odds.
	"Never thought you'd see her again, huh?" Apollo asked, sitting up
straight in his seat.  He was grinning at Starbuck's surprised
expression.  "I had that exact reaction when I learned that she was here,
and sometimes, I still swear that I'm dreaming when I see her."
	"I can relate," he replied.  "In more than one way.  In fact, I
think I'm going to have a heart attack before this day is over with all
these shocks!  But what's she doing here?  How'd she make it out the
ambush intact?  And what are those other ships?"
	Hagan, who had been sitting next to Apollo, spoke up to tell how the
attack on the three basestars at the tail-end of the battle had left the
Pegasus with extensive damage, just outside of the Galactica's scanning
range.  With a good third of her Vipers gone with the other battlestar,
the remainder of the pilots, in combination with repair crews, plundered
the defeated Cylon outer capitol for every piece of scrap metal they
could find.  After working constantly for close to six sectars, the
battlestar was space worthy again.
	Tentatively following the Galactica's path, they found no Cylon
activity around them.  What they found instead was a surprise from their
home galaxy.  A small flotilla, made up of ships in even worse shape than
the Pegasus, led by the Star Kobol.  It had once been the president's own
ship, and for the Armistice, Cain had learned, had been sent ahead of the
Colonial fleet to meet the Cylon envoy.
	There hadn't been one.  Instead, the Kobol, which would have had a
military escort in normal circumstances, encountered a small Cylon task
force at their rendezvous point several million hectars from the main
Colonial force at Cimtar.  Their transmissions blocked completely, the
diplomats and warriors hoped that an advanced patrol would warn the
others of the upcoming threat.  In the meantime, they had more important
things to think about:  their own lives.
	The attack left them disabled, and when they made it back to the
Colonies, they found the star system in ruin.  They learned from the
survivors that a lone battlestar had taken a sizable fleet away from the
Colonies in search of better place to confront the Cylons.  As they
prepared to confront the Cylons who were returning to finish up the
cleaning process of the Colonies, they managed to evacuate even more
humans in ships, an additional fifty from only eight of the Colonies. 
The Cylons had already been to Piscera, Canceria, Libra and Leo, and
they'd left no one behind.
	The commander of the smaller flotilla was a war-weary woman named
Helen, and Cain knew that she was relieved to find a fellow Colonial
alive and able to help her journey.  They wanted to find the Galactica
and her fleet, for many of the additional survivors had family there, and
the sooner they located the fleet, the better.
	And here the makeshift fleet was, slowly making their way across the
universe, and looking for signs that they were on the right path.  It
wasn't that difficult, especially when the tell-tale signs of battles
were regularly scattered like bread crumbs on a path.  It was only a
matter of time before they found something.  Or someone.
	"And that someone would be you," Hagan said, looking directly at
Starbuck.
	"I'm glad that being marooned helped someone," Starbuck said wryly. 
"Tell me, what else do you guys have in store for me?"
	The colonel laughed, while Apollo leaned back in his seat.  "It
depends on what will give you a shock, I suppose."
	Shaking his head, Starbuck now looked in the mirror one last time,
admiring the new uniform he'd been given.  It was such a change from the
old one!  Although the Pegasus uniforms had a slight difference with the
battle jackets from the Galactica due to the fourteen yahrens the two
battlestars had been separated, one thing remained constant from the last
time Starbuck had seen them.  They still had the little clover-like
ranking pins at the collar and the patch that marked it to be from the
Battlestar Pegasus.
	"Hello?" he heard a voice call as the door to his quarters opened. 
Starbuck whirled around to face Captain Poinciana, who stood in the
doorway with her arms crossed.  "There you are."
	"Here I am," he shot back.  "Haven't you heard of announcing your
presence before entering someone's domain?"
	She shrugged, and Starbuck knew that his initial impression of her
as someone who thought she was important was right.  He winced slightly
as he realized that the blonde captain was acting the exact same way
Sheba had when they first encountered her fourteen yahrens before.  "The
commander wants to see you in his quarters as soon as you're settled."
	Starbuck cast a look over at the two objects on his bed.  "Oh, I've
moved in, all right.  There was so much to bring up from the planet,
too."
	He was rewarded with a dirty look as Poinciana continued, "Then I'm
to show you there."
	"Where's Apollo?"
	The question surprised her.  "What?"
	"I said, where's Apollo?"  Starbuck found himself growing curious at
the new expression on her face.  It was something like concern and
dislike.  He decided that he'd have to find out more about it from his
friend later on.  "You know, my friend?  The dark-haired guy with the
thing in his head?  Apollo.  I'd like him to be there at the briefing."
	"I know who you're talking about!" she snapped, and Starbuck knew
that she wanted to add something else at the end of her sentence, perhaps
"smart astrum" or something close to it.  "But to answer your question,
Lieutenant, I think he's in the Life Center."
	Starbuck's eyebrows lifted up.  "The Life Center?  What in Hades
would he be doing there?"
	"What he usually does there," she answered, not helping at all. 
"Look, if you want him to come with you to see the commander, you'd
better get him.  So what are you waiting for?"
	Giving a large sigh, Starbuck shrugged.  "Nothing, I guess."
	His quarters weren't far from the Life Center, and he was there
within a few centons.  The area hadn't changed much, and still resembled
the Galactica's life station.  The room was moderately busy, with plenty
of medtechs walking around doing their duties.
	None of the lifepods were occupied, but one examining table was. 
Without looking, Starbuck knew that it had to be Apollo.  He was lying on
the surface, his eyes open but staring up at nothing.  There was a
scanner of some kind lying next to his head, and it was attached to the
implant in Apollo's temple by a cable.
	"Hey, buddy," Starbuck said when he approached him, but to his
surprise, he didn't receive a response.  The green eyes continued to look
up without blinking, and Starbuck shivered as he had a sudden flashback
to the planet where Apollo had died.  He decided to try talking to him
again.  "Apollo?  Buddy, it's me.  Come on, I know you can hear me..."
	"I'm afraid he can't, Lieutenant," a female voice said from behind
them.  Starbuck whirled in surprise to see a tall medtech watching him. 
"At least, he can't hear you right now."
	"Why not?"
	The medtech glanced down at the captain.  "Do you know about the
cybernetic implants in his brain, Lieutenant?"
	"He mentioned them to me, but I can't even begin to guess what this
is all for," he told her.  He frowned as he looked from Apollo to the
medtech.  "I assumed that the self-destruct part of it was disabled, but
by what I'm seeing here, I'm going to guess that it wasn't.  Am I right?"
	"Yes and no," she replied as she checked the scanner.  "When we
found Apollo three yahrens ago, we believed that the implant's
self-destruct mechanism had been permanently disabled.  That is, once
Apollo was able to tell us about it.  We didn't have any problems until
several sectars later when they somehow regenerated."
	"Ouch," Starbuck whispered, reaching out to take Apollo's hand,
finding it limp.  His friend didn't respond to the touch, and Starbuck
frowned.  "So, I guess you have to deactivate it again until it... grows
back?"
	"Basically that's the case.  Since the technology is partly
biological, we have to neutralize it so that it withdraws from the vital
parts of his brain."  The medtech typed something into the scanner, and
nodded at something that Starbuck couldn't see.  "All right, we're just
about done now.  The sedation is going to wear off in about a centon."
	"Sedation?  Why is he sedated?"  Despite the medtech's actions that
showed that this procedure was obviously routine, Starbuck still felt
unnerved by the entire situation.  Seeing Apollo's eyes open but not
blinking reminded Starbuck of the time he'd been on a trip from one
foster home to another along with another half dozen orphans.  The ride
had been long, and a boy who had a window seat had fallen asleep while
looking out the window.  His eyes had been wide open just like Apollo's
were doing, and he had received unmerciful teasing from the other boys. 
"Is it painful or something?"
	"We have to keep him on the edge of consciousness," she explained,
"so we know whether or not the implant's working the way it should.  It
has a kind of self-preservation method, if you will, to prevent it from
being tampered with.  It activates the pain centers.  The first time we
tried to remove them, Apollo came right out of the sedation, screaming in
agony."
	She shuddered slightly, telling Starbuck that the memory was too
fresh in her memory for comfort, and that she never wanted to relive it
again.  He was just glad that he hadn't been there -- seeing Apollo in
agony once was enough to last anyone's lifetime.
	"So how do you prevent that now?" he wondered.
	"Doctor Tomalea has him come in every secton to monitor its
progress, and we basically have a steady schedule going now."  The
medtech disconnected Apollo from the scanner, then smiled at Starbuck. 
"He'll be around in a few microns.  If his headache is really bad, let me
know and I'll give him something for it.  My name's Leonore, by the way."
	Nodding silently, Starbuck pulled up a chair to wait for Apollo to
do something.  It didn't take long, because a micron later, Apollo
blinked his eyes once, then shut them tightly.  The lieutenant bounced
back up so he could be next to his friend, and he watched as Apollo
carefully lifted one hand, opening and closing it as if he didn't expect
to find himself capable of using it.
	"Welcome back, buddy," Starbuck told him, grasping his hand and
holding it tightly.  "How do you feel?"
	"Awful," he whispered, his lips quirking up into a weak grin.  "And
that doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of how I feel.  You'd
think that three yahrens of this would make it easier for me..."
	"Are you going to be sick?"  Starbuck was worried, especially since
he didn't know what he was supposed to be doing.
	"I don't think so.  I hope not."  He closed his eyes again, not
convincing Starbuck whatsoever.  "It takes me a few centons to settle
down, so if you don't mind putting up with me for the time being?"
	"I don't mind.  The, uh, medtech told me to ask you how your
headache is?"
	"I've felt better, but I'll be fine."  Taking in a deep breath,
Apollo let it out slowly before asking more questions.  "So, have you run
into Cain yet?"
	"Not really.  Poinciana came into my quarters to tell me that he
wants to see me," Starbuck told him.  "When I told her that I wanted you
there with me, she sent me here to find you, and that's it so far.  As
soon as you're up to it, we'll head to his quarters."
	Apollo laughed, sounding a little stronger.  "Well, knowing Cain,
he's going to get annoyed that you aren't there yet.  Come on, help me up
and we'll head over there."
	"Are you sure?" he asked uncertainly as he grasped his friend's arms
to pull him into a sitting position.  "I mean, shouldn't you relax or
something?  I'm worried that you'll give yourself a heart attack or
something."
	"Sorry, buddy, but you're the one who's getting the heart attacks
today, remember?" Apollo grinned as he was helped off the table.  He
stood unsteadily for a few microns, gaining his balance, then nodded. 
"Okay, let's go."
	"But not too fast?"
	"If you insist," Apollo sighed, not objecting when Starbuck held
onto his arm to support him as they made their way out of the Life
Center.  They were only stopped once, when Leonore asked Apollo about how
he was feeling.  After a quick smile and a upbeat reply that she didn't
appear to believe, the two pilots were gone.
	Down the hallway from the Life Center, Starbuck waited until they
were safely out of reach before speaking again.  "You're getting to be
quite the charmer, old buddy.  Taking after me in your old age?"
	"Me?" Apollo laughed.  "Nah, I'm the same old me.  Remember, I could
never do anything around the girls when we were younger?  You're the one
who had to either bring them to me, or drag me along with you.  I
remember more than a few Academy dances where you had to lead me
everywhere."
	"No, you're better at it now.  I mean, back on the Galactica, you'd
fight your way out of the Life Center, and only a sedative courtesy of
Cassie could keep you in there.  Here, you just smiled and batted your
eyes at her, and she let you go."
	"Leonore's a very nice woman, Starbuck.  Are you accusing me of
flirting?" Apollo asked, turning toward Starbuck and staring agape.  "I
didn't think I could do that.  It was always your department."
	Starbuck shrugged, not taking his hand off his friend's arm.  "I can
name two women who, were they present, would both be on my side, claiming
that you can put on as good a performance as me when the time comes."
	At the hinted mention of Serina and Sheba, Apollo started to head
back on their original path.  There was no mistaking to Starbuck that
he'd said something wrong, and since he was in danger of losing his hand
due to Apollo's long steps, he hurried after him.
	"Apollo --"
	"Don't say it."  His voice was flat, in a tone that Starbuck
remembered all too well.  "You're going to say that you're sorry, that
you didn't mean anything by it, and I'm accepting your apology.  End of
subject."
	Starbuck stared at his friend as they walked.  "My God, Apollo,
you're lonely, aren't you?  I know that when I was on the planet because
I was all alone, but you?  You've had all these people around you, and
still you're lonely."
	"No, not lonely," Apollo said softly.  "Homesick.  I've made many
new acquaintances since waking up, Starbuck, and even some friends. 
Still, no matter how many I make, they'll never replace all of you on the
Galactica."
	"I have the feeling that you'll be seeing the rest of them again,"
Starbuck told him.  "Just consider me to be the first step to going
home."
	He heard Apollo laugh slightly.  "Do you promise that?"
	The lieutenant faltered at the mention of promises, which made him
think of the lie that he had lived for nine yahrens on the Galactica. 
"This one, Apollo, I think I can manage."
	"Apollo!" a childish voice shrieked, interrupting anything Apollo
could have said in reply.  They turned to see a blond little girl running
toward them, her arms outstretched.  When she reached the two warriors,
she latched her arms around Apollo's waist, giving him a tight hug that
nearly knocked the unsteady captain down.  "I've been looking all over
for you!  Where have you been, huh?"
	"Have you now?" Apollo smiled as he picked her up so they could both
face Starbuck, though the girl was more interested in Apollo than the new
arrival to the Pegasus.  "I've been busy for the last few centars,
sweetie."
	"Doing what?  What did you find on the planet?  Did you find Cylons? 
Lots of Cylons?"  Her blue eyes widened in excitement as she spoke. 
"I'll bet that you and Mommy blew them all away, right?  Huh, Apollo?"
	With a sheepish grin, Apollo shook his head.  "No, there weren't any
Cylons on the planet, Meve.  But we did find him, and I think he got to
the Cylons before we did.  This is Starbuck, and he's one of my closest
friends from the Galactica."
	Meve studied the new lieutenant's face intently, with an expression
that seemed too familiar to Starbuck.  He smiled at her, finding that her
expression was now bordering on shyness and uncertainly.
	"Starbuck?" she asked, looking back at Apollo.
	The lieutenant held his hand out to her.  "That would be my name. 
And you're... Meve?  Did I hear that correctly?"
	With a quick nod to show that he did hear correctly, the girl turned
her attention back to Apollo again.  "Did he know my sister on the
Galactica?"
	"Yes, he did.  They were very good friends."
	"Then why didn't you say so, silly?" Meve demanded, then reached out
with her own hand.  Slightly amused, Starbuck shook it gently.  "Hello,
Starbuck.  I'm Siress Meve Diamond Adoration Sunshine.  I'm glad to meet
you."
	"So am I, Siress."  Starbuck smiled, thinking about how much Meve
reminded him of his own daughter back on the Galactica, who looked to be
around the same age as Meve.  In all the excitement, he'd almost
forgotten about Derdre.
	"So!  Where are you two going?  Are you off to see my Daddy?" she
asked, full of questions again as she looked from Starbuck to Apollo. 
She frowned as she looked at the latter.  "And did you go to see Doctor
Tomalea like you were supposed to?"
	"The answer to both your questions is a great big 'yes,' Meve.  I
just came from the Life Center, and we're supposed to meet your father in
a few centons."  He set her down, giving off an exaggerated groan as he
did.  "You're getting too big for me to hold, Meve!  You're going to
break my back one of these days, my dear!"
	"And I wouldn't want to do that!" she exclaimed.  "Okay, have fun
being yelled at!  I'll see you in the mess hall for dinner, right?"
	"I wouldn't miss it for all the mushies in the fleet," Apollo
promised.  "Go do your homework in the meantime, okay?"
	She pouted at him, then waved and ran off.  Starbuck watched her go,
then looked at Apollo quizzically.  "There's a real ball of energy if
I've ever seen one before.  I doubt that even Derdre or Boxey ever had
that much."
	"That she is," Apollo sighed, fixating only on his son's name.  "And
I think she's worse than Boxey ever was at that age."
	"So, old buddy, old pal," Starbuck began, slinging one arm around
his friend's shoulders as they started walking.  "Would you care to
enlighten me on a few points?"
	"Oh?  Like what?"
	"Like, oh, for example, who is Meve?  I'm making a very large
educated guess that she's not yours."  Starbuck laughed at the surprised
expression on Apollo's face, which was the only answer he needed.  "I
didn't think so.  Besides, now that I think about it, she was probably
born before you were, right?"
	"You could say that," Apollo mused.  "She's seven, and I'm, well, my
age."
	"So, who are her parents, since you're obviously out of the
picture?"
	"You've met both of them.  Her mother is Captain Poinciana, the
woman who was with us on the mission.  The blonde captain?"
	"Yes, yes, I know her.  Oh, how unfortunate for Meve," Starbuck
shivered.  "I know that the air's going to be chilly between us for a
while!  I don't think she likes me very much."
	"Ah, don't worry about Poinciana.  It's just the way she generally
is to any male who doesn't outrank her.  She had some very choice things
to say to me when I joined the crew, trust me."  Apollo smiled slightly
at the memory.  "And if you think that the bickering I had going with
Sheba when she first came aboard the Galactica was bad, imagine me and
Poinciana!"
	"I think I'd rather not," Starbuck said wryly.
	"And another thing," he continued.  "Poinciana and Sheba used to be
best friends, so watch what you say."
	"Why am I not surprised to hear that?  So if she finds out that
Sheba and I were friends, will that put me in her good books?"
	"It did for me, more or less," Apollo confirmed.
	"That's something good to know.  So, that answers question number
one.  How about taking a round at number two?"  Starbuck leaned in closer
to Apollo.  "Who's her daddy?"
	"Cain."
	Starbuck stared at him, not daring to believe that what he said was
true.  "Cain?  As in the commander, Cain?  As in Sheba's father, Cain? 
That Cain?"
	"You mean that there's another Cain?" Apollo laughed, enjoying the
spectacle that his friend was putting on.
	"Oh, boy..."  Starbuck shook his head, not believing what he was
hearing.  "You know, Apollo, I wasn't kidding about that heart attack
earlier!"
	"I don't doubt that.  Come on, let's head over to Cain's quarters
before he calls an alert."  Apollo's voice was firm, then he added
nonchalantly, "But as we go, can you tell me about Boxey?  I can wait to
hear about my father and the... others until you tell Cain, but since he
doesn't know who Boxey is..."
	"I understand.  Well, he misses you, for one thing," Starbuck began,
sighing slightly.  "I tried to be there for him as much as I could, and
your father went out of his way to give him that extra guidance and
support that he would have gotten from you... had you survived the
patrol.  Sheba took care of him a lot, too."
	"How does he feel about me?" Apollo continued, ignoring Starbuck's
comment, especially the one about Sheba.  He was looking down at the deck
as they went.  "Does he hate me for leaving?  I remember how upset he was
when Serina died when he was six.  I don't think he'd be any more likely
to react differently just because he was eleven when I died."
	"He was interesting to watch in the sectons after you died.  He was
the last one to give up hope that you would return, long after everyone
else, and he was thankfully occupied with other things so he couldn't
dwell on the grief for too long.  For a brief period of time, though, he
was very angry at you, but then one day, he just sobbed and sobbed until
I thought he didn't have an ounce of moisture left in his body."
	Venturing a glance at his friend's down-turned face, Starbuck saw an
expression he'd hoped to never see again on Apollo's face.  He'd last
seen it when his friend had lost his wife to the Cylons, and the memory
of the anguish on Apollo's face was identical to what he was seeing now.
	"Apollo... I might be having the heart attack, but you're the one
who's going to be making himself sick with emotions," Starbuck said as
gently as he could.  "I'm sorry, but --"
	"Don't even go there," Apollo snapped, turning his head to look
directly at Starbuck.  "Look, I got what I deserved for wanting to die on
that planet and letting myself go.  I should have let you rescue me and
bring me back to the Galactica as an invalid.  Instead, I decided to die
to put myself out of the misery I was in.  Instead of my life falling
apart then, I've got it falling apart now."
	Blinking at the outburst, Starbuck looked at him strangely. 
"Apollo, are you saying that you think you were brought --"
	"We're here," came the gruff reply before he could finish his
sentence.  Apollo pressed the door chime, all the while keeping his back
to Starbuck.  Instead of getting a vocal reply to their call, the door
simply slid open to admit them.
	The commander's outer office was a little more decorated than
Starbuck remembered it, but it still looked like the semi-private domain
of Commander Cain.  The layout was the same as Adama's office, but the
lighting was more somber, with more pictures of ships and people.  In a
moment's glance, Starbuck recognized both of the commander's daughters. 
He shot a glance at Apollo, idly wondering if he would look at Sheba's
pictures, but he wasn't able to find out when Cain spoke.
	The commander hadn't changed much in fourteen yahrens, other than
his hair going from its last traces of blond to white.  His blue eyes
were sharp as he studied the new arrivals, and despite himself, Starbuck
felt himself getting nervous again, the way he'd been when they'd first
met.
	"Lieutenant Starbuck," Cain said warmly, surprising the lieutenant
slightly as they shook hands.  "It's a pleasure to see you again.  Now I
have my pair of intergalactic loiterers again.  When I return you to
Adama, I'll have to insist that he keep you two under close supervision."
	Glancing at Apollo again, Starbuck spotted a slight smile on his
friend's lips at the mention of his father.  Realizing that he missed the
Galactica's commander, as well, Starbuck turned his attention back to
Cain.  "I'm looking forward to that, sir."
	Nodding, Cain motioned to the two chairs that were in front of his
desk.  Starbuck quickly slid into the nearest chair, while Apollo sat
neatly in his, hands resting in his lap.  The micron the commander was
behind his desk, leaning back in his chair, he spoke again.
	"I realize that you've been on that planet for at the very least
several sectars, and that this has been a day full of surprises for you. 
I hope you don't mind, Lieutenant, if you could tell us everything you
can."  Cain glanced at the dark-haired captain on his right.  "Apollo's
been able to give us the coordinates that the Galactica is headed on. 
What were they, again?  Quadrant Alpha, nineteen million sectors by
Epsilon Vector 22 on a circular reckoning course of 0009?  So we know
we're headed in the same direction, but --"
	"It doesn't tell you the important things, like how everyone is in
the fleet?  How we were holding up against the Cylons before I was
marooned?"  Starbuck watched as Cain nodded.  "Sure, I can fill you in, I
guess."
	"How is Adama, that old modoker?" Cain asked.  "I imagine that his
hands are as full as they've always been?"
	"Maybe even more so," Starbuck agreed.  "In the past, oh, two
yahrens, the Cylons have really been keeping up with us, and we've been
under a lot of strain. Still, the Commander's always been there for us,
staying fast and firm even though he's been through a lot of his own."
	Cain looked over at Apollo, who hadn't said a word since the meeting
began.  "Yes, I imagine that he has.  And the Galactican fleet itself?"
	"The Cylon attacks have been more or less like attempts to draw our
fighters out for a round or two, but that's about it.  They've only made
it to the fleet maybe three times, if that.  Besides that, our ships have
only gone through the regular wear and tear they normally get from space
travel."
	"I see.  So statistically speaking, the Galactica's fleet is more or
less the same as it was fourteen yahrens ago?"
	"Boomer would be the one who could give you better data as flight
commander, but I guess you could say that.  Except for warrior personnel,
of course.  As you can see, we're a constantly changing group."
	"I know, I know," Cain replied.  "What about Cassiopia?  How is
she?"
	"My wife is doing very well, though I expect she thinks I'm dead at
the centon," Starbuck told him, and he heard Apollo laugh in delight at
the news of his sealing.  He accepted his friend's hug of congratulation
and Cain's smiles before he continued.  "And, we have a daughter.  Her
name is Derdre, and she's a yahren or so older than Meve."
	"Again, congratulations," Cain said, echoed by Apollo.  The
commander stood to fetch something from the cabinet behind his desk.  "I
believe this accounts for a toast.  Can I offer either of you a drink?"
	Apollo shook his head firmly, while Starbuck grinned.  "Just what I
could use, sir.  They didn't have any of this where I used to be."
	"I'd imagine so," Cain replied as he poured Starbuck's drink, then
his own.  Once they were both settled in their respective chairs, the
commander asked the question that Starbuck knew was coming.  "How is my
little girl, Lieutenant?"
	"Sheba's fine," Starbuck replied, thinking for a micron of Cain's
other daughter that he'd met only centons before.  Out of the corner of
his eye, he saw Apollo watching him carefully.  "I know that she'd love
to be here, sir."
	"Is she still a warrior?" Cain pressed.
	"No."  He wasn't surprised when both men looked equally stunned at
the revelation.  "She resigned her commission and took command of one of
the civilian ships about four yahrens ago."
	Apollo's eyes narrowed.  "Why would she do that?  She was one of the
best pilots on the Galactica!  Unless... it had to do with --"
	"No, it had very little to do with just you.  Sheba wanted something
else in life, or at least that's what she told me.  She also wanted more
for her son."  Starbuck smiled as he thought of his nephew.  "The ship
she commands, the Achilles, has a lot of children aboard, so Josce has
more playmates there than he would on the Galactica."
	"I have a grandson?" Cain repeated, his blue eyes widening in
delight.  "That's wonderful!  Who is she sealed with?"
	"Bojay, sir."  Starbuck didn't have to look at Apollo to know that
his friend was staring at him in disbelief.  "They were sealed several
yahrens after Josce was born."
	"Josce, eh?  I didn't know my Sheba was that much into poetry," the
commander said wryly.  "Wasn't Josce the man who wrote a series of poems
that made every woman on his colony cry uncontrollably?"
	"Rumor has it that's what happened," Starbuck confirmed.  "Not all
of his poetry was romantic, though."
	"'My heart weeps for thee, Lady of my soul,'" Apollo quoted softly. 
His eyes were closed, and he had a faraway look on his face.  "'It cries
and cannot rest.'"
	"Thank you for the recital, Captain," Cain said wryly, giving him an
amused look before turning his attention back to Starbuck.  "Tell me,
Lieutenant, why did Bojay and Sheba become sealed long after Josce's
birth?  Was he frightened off when Sheba became pregnant, though that's
not something I thought Bojay would do?  I always took him to be a
responsible kind of man."
	"Because... there's a slight problem," Starbuck began slowly,
knowing that this part of his news was going to be difficult.  Cain was
looking at him in anticipation, while Apollo looked as though he didn't
want to hear what was to come.  "Bojay isn't Josce's biological father."
	"He's not?"  Cain's forehead wrinkled with confusion.  "Then who is? 
Where is he, and why wasn't he there during Sheba's pregnancy?"
	There was only one way to say it, so Starbuck blurted it out.
	"Apollo's the father."
	"Apollo's what?"
	"I'm what?"
	After the three-sided outburst, there was only dead silence around
the desk.  Apollo was leaning back in his chair, his hand covering his
gaping mouth and the lower portion of his face in shock.  He looked as
though he might be grateful if a fissure in the deck suddenly appeared so
he could just slip into it to never be seen again.  Starbuck didn't blame
him; Cain's lingering stare was enough to make the most confident person
uneasy.  The commander had his icy blue gaze locked on the flustered
captain.
	"You're the father of my grandson, Apollo."  It wasn't so much a
statement as it was an accusation.  "Captain, I was under the impression
that you weren't involved with my daughter in any kind of way outside of
duty before you left the Galactica."
	This time, it was Starbuck's turn to stare gape-mouthed in shock as
he fixed his friend with a disbelieving look.  "You mean you haven't told
him about you and Sheba?"
	"It... never came up," he reply slowly, his face blushing furiously. 
"Uh, Commander, it's true.  Sheba and I were involved before my accident
nine yahrens ago."
	Cain snorted loudly.  "Involved my astrum!  You got her pregnant,
for Sagan's sake!  It sounds to me like you two were more than just...
involved.  Were you two sharing quarters?"
	"No!"  Starbuck couldn't recall ever seeing Apollo as embarrassed as
he was now, even when he was the target of teasing from Sheba, Athena, or
even Starbuck himself.  Not only was his face a flaming red, but his eyes
also seemed to be on the verge of tears.  "For your information,
Commander, I only spent the night once with Sheba -- two nights before I
died!  And if you must know, I was planning on proposing to her when I
returned from the patrol."
	"Well, it's a little late now, isn't it?" Cain snapped, not
appreciating the sight Apollo was exhibiting.  Starbuck felt like
reaching across the desk to wrap his hands around the commander's throat.
	Pushing his chair back violently, Apollo stood and glared down at
Cain.  "If you'll excuse me, Commander, you can continue your debriefing
of Lieutenant Starbuck by yourself.  I need to leave!"
	Watching his friend stalk out with worried eyes, Starbuck waited
until the door was closed before turning on the commander.  He didn't
care if he was stepping out of line.
	"Was that really necessary?" he demanded, irritated when Cain looked
to be nonplused.  "You're acting as though it takes only one to have sex
and get someone pregnant.  I don't know how much you remember of your
basic biology, but it takes two.  If Apollo was involved, then Sheba was,
too.  You should have seen them together, Cain.  I've never seen two
people so much in love.  I remember the day we lost Apollo.  Just before
he left on his patrol, he told me that he was going to ask her to be
sealed that evening."
	Cain's face was impassive.  "Lieutenant, I don't expect you to
understand my point of view just yet.  Maybe when your daughter gets old
enough, you'll see where I'm coming from."
	"Maybe, but there's one point of view you're not considering.  Sheba
was a wreck when Apollo didn't come back, and nothing anyone could say or
do would help her.  She came to me a sectar later, and I was so stunned
when I saw that she was calm.  That's when she told me that she was
pregnant, and I swear that I'm telling you exactly what she said to me. 
She said that it was the best that could have happened to her, because
she couldn't be self-absorbed with a baby on the way.  She believed that
it was Apollo's last gift to her," Starbuck finished with a smile.  "And
I happen to think so, too."
	"Perhaps," Cain replied, sounding anything but convinced.
	The rest of the debriefing was stifled after Apollo's departure, and
eventually, Cain let him leave.  There was the stipulation that he'd be
called back later to give additional information, but for the time being,
the commander was more than sated with the updates on his daughter's
life.
	With a heavy heart, Starbuck hurried in the direction he thought
Apollo would head, but after five centons, he was still empty-handed.  A
helpful crew member eventually told him that he had seen the dark-haired
captain heading for his private quarters, and with a few directions,
Starbuck headed over there.
	Once he was at the doorway, he put on his brave face and hit the
door chime.  Almost a centon later, he heard Apollo's voice, heavy with
emotion, through the speaker.  "Who is it?"
	"It's me, your friendly galactic lieutenant."
	"What do you want?"
	Starbuck tried not to roll his eyes.  "What do you think I want?  I
want in.  There's a few things we need to talk about."
	"We can talk about them later."
	"No, we're going to talk about them now."
	He waited a few centons, expecting Apollo to yell at him and tell
him to go to Hades.  Instead, the door finally slid open, and Starbuck
walked into the moderately lit room.  It was even more spartan than
Cain's, except for a few decorations.  They were odd objects, probably
momentoes from places the Pegasus had visited since Apollo came aboard,
but what Starbuck noticed the most was that there were no pictures
anywhere.
	Apollo was looking at him with an expectant expression, sitting at
his desk.  Starbuck could see that monitor was on, and his friend made no
effort to hide its contents from him as he approached.
	"So," he began, watching Apollo's face carefully.  "What do you
think?"
	Giving a huge sigh, he looked away from Starbuck as he spoke.  "I
want to know whose cruel joke this entire situation is.  I mean, I'm
brought back from the dead, escape both the Cylons and the Shelborn, and
survive this frakking implant.  Then I get picked up by the Pegasus, and
now we find you, with your news about Sheba.  What's it all for?  What's
the point of it all, if after all this time, and my heart being torn to
shreds worrying about her and hoping that she's all right, I can't have
her in the end?  Why?  Did I offend fate that much?"
	Glancing over Apollo's shoulder, Starbuck caught the image of Sheba. 
He guessed that the picture was at least eighteen yahrens old, because
the girl that Sheba was there had been long replaced by the woman she'd
become.  Still, looking at her image brought back memories of home, and
he realized just how much he missed the way things were on the Galactica.
	"If it's any consolation," he offered, keeping his voice as quiet as
possible, "you should know that he's been good to her since they were
sealed.  Josce's never gone without."
	"Yes, he has," Apollo replied softly.  "He's gone without me his
entire life."
	"But he knows about you, and what you stood for.  He's proud of who
you were, and he even looks like you."  Starbuck laughed.  "It gets
pretty unnerving sometimes, you know.  He throws temper tantrums the
exact same way you do."
	"I would have hoped that he would inherit some of my better
attributes," he replied, his voice wry.
	"He did, believe me."
	"Then tell me about him," Apollo requested, leaning back in his
chair.  "Tell me about him, and Sheba, Bojay, Boxey, my father, and how
this all worked out."
	"That's the only problem," Starbuck said somberly.  "It didn't."
Part 4 - The song of the broken heart

	It was another long night with very little sleep.  It seemed that
they were coming more and more often now, ever since the day Starbuck was
shot down on his patrol.  It had been almost a secton ago, but Sheba knew
that it was still too fresh in Josce's mind.  Starbuck had been a part of
the boy's life since he was born, and to know he was gone was a concept
too foreign to the eight yahren old's mind.
	Sheba smoothed her son's dark hair down where it stuck out, watching
Josce as he finally drifted off to sleep.  He'd spent most of the evening
crying again, mourning the loss of his... well, whatever roles Starbuck
didn't fill in the boy's life, they were few.
	"Don't worry," she'd whispered at one point.  "Starbuck's all right. 
He's with your father now, and your daddy will make sure he's all right. 
I know that, and if I know that, you can know that, too."
	Those were the words she believed had made Josce feel at least a
little better.  Everything lately seemed so rushed, so unreal.  She had
the impression that the last nine yahrens had just been a very detailed
and elaborate dream.  Whenever she had a quiet moment, like she did now,
she was overcome by the impression that whatever would happen next would
be interrupted as she woke up, cradled in Apollo's arms as they slept on
the Rising Star.  Wasn't that where it had all started?
	Making sure that Josce was definitely asleep, Sheba kissed her son's
forehead before leaving his room.  Once she was in the living area, she
closed the door to the main bedroom so she didn't disturb Bojay with the
lights.  Sitting at her desk, she reached into one of her books to pull
out a folded and aged piece of paper.  Straightening it out, she read the
words that were carefully written out.
	Apollo hadn't the neatest writing she'd ever seen, but he'd written
as carefully as he could.  The words were of a poem that he had found by
their favorite poet, Josce of Virgon; a simple poem that summarized how
Apollo had been feeling at the time:

	"How can I speak of you,
	When poets better than I
	Have already written sonnets
	And ballads
	And love-sick melodies
	That better serve to tell
	Of the beauty and love
	That you possess?"

	The note had been Apollo's way of inviting her to spend an evening
on the Rising Star, to celebrate just being together.  Their separate
schedules had been so hectic that they'd been unable to do anything
lately other than give each other greetings as they hurried off to one
thing or another.
	It had been a wonderfully romantic evening, Sheba recalled, with
plenty of food and conversation.  The side of Apollo that she felt he
never let out enough -- the side that was gentle, caring and humorous,
even charming -- was out in full force, and he was determined that they
would enjoy their time together to the fullest.
	Sheba didn't remember whose idea it was to make love; she partly
suspected the ambrosa, but that was a moot point.  All that mattered was
the tenderness and love she'd received from Apollo, and the nagging
thought that they should have done this yahrens ago.  She'd never felt as
secure as she had with Apollo's arms about her, their bodies as close as
they could be to each other.
	It was a security that would be shattered only a few days later,
when Apollo failed to return from a patrol.  Sheba kept her hope despite
the diminishing morale of the crew as time kept on passing without the
captain's return.  She felt her life descending into a pit of despair,
and she mourned again for the lost opportunities.  They had been together
for four yahrens, with only one night of passion.
	It was a night of passion that left a legacy.  A few sectons after
Apollo's death, she was still grieving heavily for her lost love when she
was alarmed to discover that she was getting physically ill.  That
snapped her out of her depression, and she paid a visit to Cassiopia in
the Life Center.  To her astonishment, she discovered that she was more
than a sectar pregnant with Apollo's child.  Stunned and uncertain, she
left her friend knowing that she wasn't prepared for motherhood yet,
especially without the baby's father to help her.  She had no choice but
to go see Adama.
	The commander was taking the news of his son's death harder than
anyone else, and he didn't look very happy to see her.  She had no doubt
that she was reminding him greatly of Apollo, and that the memories were
undoubtedly hurting him.  Almost impatiently, he sat down behind his desk
to hear what she had to say.
	"Commander, I'd like to resign from active pilot duty," she began,
and right away she knew that wasn't what Adama was expecting to hear. 
The commander's dark brows rose until they nearly met the fringes of his
white hair.
	"What?"
	"I don't think I should be a Viper pilot anymore, no matter how much
I love this job.  Is there a position available where I wouldn't have to
fly?  Teaching at the Academy, or something along that line?"  She could
see that Adama wanted to know what the reason was, and she decided to say
it bluntly.  "Adama, I'm pregnant."
	The news stunned him, and he sat back in his chair.  His mouth moved
several times, but his voice didn't emerge until several attempts had
passed.  "Pregnant?  With...?"
	"Yes," she nodded.  "Apollo's the father."
	"Good lord," Adama whispered, his dark brown eyes tearing over
slightly.  He rose to take her hands in his, and he held them tightly as
he spoke.  He looked overwhelmed with both joy and grief at the same
time.  "This is wonderful news, Sheba, but I'm so sorry that it has to
happen now, with Apollo... disappearing as he has.  Did he know?"
	She shook her head, feeling regret building in her chest.  "No.  I
just found out myself a short time ago."
	"In that case, please, if there's anything I can do to help you and
my grandchild, let me know."
	"Then assign me to something outside of the squadrons," she said
firmly.  "I don't want just a maternity leave.  I don't think I have what
Apollo had when he was raising Boxey by himself while being flight
commander and going off on those missions.  I still want to help with the
journey to Earth, but just in a different capacity.  The point is,
Commander, that I want to be there for my child when I'm needed.  Surely
there has to be a position available that will offer me everything I'm
looking for."	
	Very slowly, Adama moved away from her back to his desk.  He glanced
through the papers and reports that lay scattered about his desk, then he
finally nodded.  "Would you be interested in helping with the Academy?"
	"I'll give it my best, Commander," she replied, smiling.  "Thank
you."
	"You're welcome.  I'll just inform the Colonel."
	It wasn't very hard to arrange. The squadrons had reorganized to
make up for the huge gap Apollo's absence created, and Boomer had been
named by Colonel Tigh as the new flight commander.  One more change
wouldn't really take much.
	The pilots who made up the squadrons were another story.  From the
newly commissioned ensigns to the seasoned veterans of Blue and Silver
Spar Squadron, everyone was dealing with the blow to the battlestar's
morale.  Apollo was not just a leader; he was a friend, a figure to look
up to, even a mediator between the squadrons and the Colonel and the
Commander.
	The newly promoted Captain Boomer tried to take Apollo's place, but
the space the late captain had left was just too large to fill right
away.  Boomer relied a lot on the other squadron commanders in the first
sectar of his new command, and before long, he had things running the way
Apollo used to.
	Things still weren't the same.  At any gathering, the warriors kept
an empty seat out of respect for Apollo's memory, and occasionally, when
rounds were bought for the squadron, a full mug was placed at the spot
where he would have sat.  Some might have found it morbid, but for his
friends, it was therapeutic and symbolic.
	Sheba's pregnancy was what she needed to get on with her life.  As
soon as word of her condition spread to her friends, she became a source
of almost constant attention.  Starbuck rarely left her side, sometimes
to the annoyance of Cassiopia, who otherwise understood his devotion.  He
was often joined by Athena.  The entire prospect of receiving a younger
sibling thrilled Boxey to no end, and he was with Sheba more often than
Starbuck.
	One person who spent a lot of time with Sheba, much to her surprise,
was Bojay.  Her friend from the Pegasus had been distant during the past
few yahrens, bordering more on being an acquaintance than the close
friendship they'd shared on the Pegasus.  She knew that her relationship
with Apollo had kept him distant, since the two captains hadn't got along
very well, and she wondered if that explained his sudden friendliness.
	Her teaching position at the Academy was a minor one to begin with,
mostly dealing with teaching the cadets the basics of procedures they'd
find while being warriors.  It wasn't overtly exciting, but it did give
her the flexibility she needed as she reached the end of her pregnancy.
	The contractions hit one afternoon while she was having the midday
meal with Boomer.  He rushed her to the Life Center where, a few centars
later with her friends surrounding her, she gave birth to a healthy baby
boy.  She named him Josce, after the poet that both she and Apollo had
admired.
	Holding her son in her arms and watching him as he yawned in his
sleep, Sheba wondered what Apollo's reaction would have been if he'd
lived to learn that she was expecting.  It would have been one aspect of
a wonderful situation.  Starbuck had told her that Apollo confided in him
about his plans to ask Sheba to be sealed to him.  Starbuck had even
accompanied her to the crafts ship to pick up the promissory gift that
the captain had planned on giving her, since Apollo had planned to pick
it up after his patrol.  It was a beautiful ring with a stone that
changed color depending on the light.  Seen from one angle, it could have
been described as a light blue, while another would turn it pink.
	Looking at the ring, she imagined what would have happened if Apollo
had survived to return home from the patrol.  She could easily picture
the ecstatic look that she knew would be on his face as he would hold his
dark-haired baby in his arms.
	From the first time Adama laid eyes on his grandson, Sheba knew that
he saw more than just Josce.  She'd seen pictures of Apollo from when he
was a child, and there was no mistaking which parent Josce inherited his
features from.  Starbuck knew it, too, and he even made a joke about it. 
If Josce started crying, there was usually no doubt about what he wanted,
and Starbuck would announce that he was exactly like his father in that
they could both order everyone around.  It made everyone laugh, and Sheba
wondered if, wherever he was, Apollo was laughing, too.
	Josce grew quickly during his first few sectars, and Boxey was with
him whenever possible.  It was rare to see one without the other.  The
older boy was fiercely protective of his baby brother, and tried to teach
him everything he knew.  Josce was regularly entertained with stories
about the adventures of his father, courtesy of Starbuck and Adama. 
Boxey did his fair share, too, and Sheba often liked hearing what the
teenager had to say about his father.
	"Boxey?" Josce had asked one night when he was three yahrens old,
his green eyes looking with admiration at his older brother.  To him,
Boxey was the fountain of knowledge and wisdom, while Starbuck and Adama
were simply bottomless wells of wonderful stories.  The two boys had been
in the living area of their quarters, with Boxey working on some
mathematical problems while Josce was drawing.  "Boxey, tell me
something?"
	Looking up from his work, something which he didn't mind doing, he
gave his brother a smile.  "Sure, Jos, what is it?"
	"Does everyone have an angle?" the boy asked.
	"Angle?" Boxey frowned, then laughed as he realized that Josce's
three yahren old vocabulary had gotten the word confused.  "Oh, you mean
an angel?"
	"Yup."  He smiled, waiting to hear what the answer was going to be. 
"So?  Granpa was talking about them, and I want to know if I have one."
	"Well," Boxey began, using the tone of voice that said that he was
being very serious.  It made Josce giggle as he scrambled up from the
floor to sit next to him.  "Yes, you have one, and I have one."
	"Oh!"  Josce's eyes grew wide in excitement.  Sheba knew that he was
loving this piece of information, and she smiled in her office as the
boys continued.  "Tell me, tell me!"
	"Our father told me this once, when my mom died when I was only a
little bit older than you.  He told me that she would always be with me,
and to me, that means that she's my angel.  And since Dad died, that
means that he's always with you, because I already have my angel."  He
smiled at the look of wonder on Josce's face.  "What do you think of
that?"
	"Thank you for telling me that!" he exclaimed, jumping up to reach
the table of flatpics that Sheba kept.  Reaching for a picture that he
knew was the man who was his father, Josce grabbed it to run into his
mother's office.  "Mommy, Mommy!  Look at my angel!"
	Sheba smiled at the memory of her son's small excited face.  That
had been her family -- her, Josce and Boxey.  Although Boxey was more
like an adult now, he still needed the guidance of an adult, and Sheba
found herself taking up the role.  She had taken Boxey as her own; raised
him as her own.  Outside of that, there was Athena and Adama; Starbuck
and Boomer and Cassiopia.
	And Bojay.  The overture for a return to their friendship during her
pregnancy hadn't faded, and if anything, he was being even more friendly. 
He offered to take her out to the Rising Star several times, offers which
she often accepted just to have a change of scene.  Starbuck and
Cassiopia didn't mind taking care of the two boys, even when their
daughter was born a yahren after Josce.  In fact, Boxey liked helping
with both children, making him the ultimate baby-sitter as far as
Starbuck was concerned.  He often joked that he and Cassie could have
time to themselves when they were taking care of them.
	At the end of each outing with Bojay, Sheba came back with
conflicting thoughts.  She had the feeling that there was more to Bojay's
propositions than just mere friendship.  She knew very well that their
falling out over Apollo was due to the fact that Bojay had romantic
feelings for her, and he couldn't bear to see her with another man,
especially his rival.  It wasn't hard to see that Bojay wasn't over that
just yet, and that was what bothered her.  He seemed to be making
advances, albeit subtly, and he was waiting for her to respond.
	She didn't want to, but a part of her was intrigued by the idea.  It
had been so long since she'd last spent any time with man who made her
feel special, something that Apollo had done wonderfully, and Bojay was
certainly doing it very well now.  She wanted to be more than a mother, a
friend, and an instructor.  She wanted to be Sheba, the woman.
	If anything, Bojay succeeded in waking up a restless feeling in her. 
She was certainly happy with what she'd been given -- two wonderful boys
and a stable career.  Still, she needed something else.  Romance?  That
might have been part of it, but the answer came to her a few sectars
before Josce celebrated his fourth natal day.  She needed something else
in life, something that she couldn't find doing what she was doing now. 
She wanted to do more, to have a more active role than just teaching.
	A search in the Core Command database showed her what she was
potentially looking for:  a command of her own.  The Achilles, an
Aquarian passenger ship, needed a new commanding officer, and Sheba fit
right into the described prerequisites.  As a plus, the ship had a high
number of children aboard, which would provide Josce with what he was
missing -- playmates his own age.
	Somehow, she wasn't surprised when Adama called her to his office
soon after she applied, nor was she shocked when he turned out to be
visibly upset about her actions.
	"You can't go," he informed her the micron after she had settled in
her seat.  "We need you here."
	She smiled slightly, trying to sound as reasonable as she could so
he would listen to her.  "Commander, you know very well that there are
more than enough people on the Galactica who can fill my position,
perhaps even better than I can."
	He came back immediately with a response.  "Perhaps, but none of
them have your experience in battle and with the command structure."
	"Maybe, maybe not.  The point is that I don't want to teach anymore. 
I need to do something new with my life," she told him.
	"If it's the Academy you're unhappy with, I'm certain that something
else could be found."  He glanced at his monitor.  "You might be
interested in a position on the bridge, or --"
	"Adama."  She used his name, not his rank, so she could get his
attention.  "No.  I don't want any of those.  I believe that everything I
want is on the Achilles.  It would be good for the boys to go there, too. 
Josce's never been in an atmosphere that wasn't geared for conflict,
while Boxey needs to be somewhere with more children his own age.  The
same with Josce.  And I'm worried that Boxey's just gearing up to go into
the Academy so he can become a warrior to avenge both Serina and Apollo's
deaths, and no matter how noble that might be, he should look into other
things, too.  There are some things that they just can't have here."
	Adama spoke slowly.  "They have their family here."
	"Yes, that's true."  Sheba knew deep down that Josce was probably
the main reason why Adama was in so much opposition to her proposition. 
With Josce being the living memory of Apollo, Adama wanted the boy around
as much as possible.  "But family isn't everything.  I'm sorry, but I
grew up in a very small family.  I was the only child, and neither of my
parents' side of the family had any cousins for me.  My grandparents
lived far away, so it was basically Mother and I, and Father, when and if
he returned home.  I know that Apollo never fully appreciated that, and
so I don't expect you to, either.  I just know that the boys won't suffer
without you around all the time.  It's not as though we'll be gone
forever."
	He wasn't convinced, and Sheba didn't expect him to be.  She was
slightly concerned at how she must sound.  It wasn't for a selfish reason
that she wanted to go to the Achilles, but more something she felt she
had to do.  She wondered how far she'd have to go to have her way,
especially since Adama seemed to be holding in his anger successfully at
that micron.
	"You're still a warrior under my command," Adama said slowly,
locking his gaze on Sheba's face.  "If you won't listen to me as the
grandfather of your son, then you might listen to me as your commander. 
I'm not giving you permission to go.  You will continue at the Academy!"
	Stunned at that revelation, Sheba blurted out, "For Sagan's sake,
Adama, you're worse that Apollo!  He had his stubborn moments, but you're
even worse than he ever was!"
	The slight against his son made Adama draw back as though burned. 
"I have given you an order, Lieutenant!"
	She stood to face him, her anger matching Adama's equally.  "Well,
Commander, if there's only one way to get what I want, then I'll do it. 
I'm resigning my commission."
	Her words stunned the both of them, but it seemed that Adama didn't
quite believe what he just heard.  His dark brown eyes held an expression
of disbelief.
	"Sheba..."
	"No, I'll go through with it," she snapped as she took off the
ranking pins from her collar.  She tossed them onto the surface of his
desk.  "I'll be in my quarters, getting our things ready for the trip to
the Achilles."
	She stormed out, not listening to anything Adama was going to say. 
Looking back, Sheba had to admit that it was extremely lucky that the
position on the passenger ship went to her, otherwise she'd had to go
back and take back what she'd said.  She was her father's daughter, and
Commander Cain never went back on what he said.
	She broached the subject of moving to her sons that evening.  Josce
didn't quite understand what was happening, but Boxey certainly did.  He
had mixed feelings about the entire situation.  The move would take him
away from his established family on the Galactica, but wherever Josce
went, he would follow.
	Starbuck wasn't as enthused, though.  As Josce's self-proclaimed
uncle, he didn't want to miss seeing either the boy or Boxey.  Athena
agreed, but Sheba managed to halfway convince them that they were invited
to come to the Achilles every secton to visit.
	With the unsettled feelings abounding, the notice finally came
through that the position on the Achilles was hers.  Sheba felt her
stomach drop down to her toes when she read the document, seeing that it
had been signed by Adama, but she didn't dare to go see him to thank him.
	Three days after the confrontation, Sheba and her sons were in a
shuttle headed toward the Achilles.  There'd been a little send-off for
them, attended by Starbuck, Boomer, Cassiopia, Derdre and Athena.  Bojay
and Brie, as the shuttle pilots, were there as well.  Both of the boys
were given lots of hugs, and Cassiopia gave Josce a departing present
that she convinced him not to open until he was on the shuttle.
	When the shuttle launched, and the bulk of the battlestar moved out
of range, Sheba felt a turmoil of emotions overtake her as she sat back
in her seat.  She was leaving behind her past, not just as a warrior, but
Apollo's memory, too.  Whenever she thought of him, it was invariably of
him on the Galactica -- unless, of course, she thought of their eventful
evening on the Rising Star.  It was like she was leaving a part of
herself and her life behind, ready to begin anew.
	Bojay, she noticed, was rather tense.  Although both he and Brie
were answering all the questions and observations that Boxey was
providing as he stood just directly behind their seats in the cockpit,
Bojay seemed to be upset.  Sheba watched his back for a few microns, then
glanced down at Josce.  The departing gift had been a stuffed daggit, and
Josce held it against him as he leaned on his mother's arm, about to
drift to sleep, leaving her to her troubled thoughts.
	The Achilles was a ship that was about a third the length of the
Galactica.  With a complement of eight hundred and fifty people,
including twenty crew members, she was situated toward the rear of the
fleet.  Since the ship hailed from Aquaria, it had the typical bulbous
style from that world.
	The first officer, Ludlow, greeted Sheba and her sons upon their
arrival.  A tall man with light brown hair that was beginning to have a
trace of grey, he smiled at the new arrivals, especially at sleepy-eyed
Josce.
	"Welcome to the Achilles," he greeted after introductions were made. 
His voice had a slight accent that was pleasant to listen to, and he
continued to smile even as he spoke.  "We'll wait for the crew to gather
your belongings, then we'll be off to your quarters?"
	Bojay emerged from the shuttle, carrying Sheba's flight bag along
with two other bags which he placed in front of the shuttle's hatchway. 
He glanced over at Sheba, then took a deep breath to make his way over to
her.  "Sheba, could I speak to you for a micron?"
	She glanced back at Ludlow, who was directing the crew with their
bags.  "Sure, I suppose.  Let me just tell Boxey to take Josce to our
quarters, then I'll be right back."
	Boxey was looking wide-eyed around the landing bay as he waited for
his mother to return from the shuttle.  He greeted Sheba with a big smile
as she came up to him.  "Neat ship!"
	"I'm glad you think so," she said, returning his smile.  "Look,
Boxey, take Josce to our quarters and put him down for his nap.  I should
be down within the centar, okay?  I have some things to look after
first."
	"Sure!" he replied, taking hold of his brother's hand while grasping
two of their bags in his other hand.  "Come on, Jos, let's go find our
quarters."
	"Don't wanna sleep," the four yahren old complained, but he followed
the older boy with little other comments.
	Sheba felt a hand on her shoulder as she watched them leave the bay,
and she turned to see Bojay looking directly at her.  Brie had already
gone back into the shuttle to let the two talk in private.
	"So, I guess I should start addressing you as Captain," Bojay began,
smiling down at her.  "I never did get to say 'congratulations' to you
yet, did I?"
	"No, but you just did."  Sheba glanced around the bay, then sighed. 
"Well, so far, I like what I'm seeing.  I have the feeling that things
will be good here."
	"Maybe, but you're leaving an awfully big hole back on the
Galactica."  He sighed as he looked at her.  "Sheba, I have just a few
questions to ask you.  Just a few, and I'd, uh, like to have as honest an
answer that you can give."
	Her attention attracted by his awkward wording, Sheba nodded. 
"Sure, Bojay, go ahead."
	"Did you leave the Galactica because of me?" he asked.
	She couldn't help but laugh.  "Bojay, what kind of question is that? 
No, I didn't leave because of you.  I had my reasons, but you weren't one
of them."
	"Good," he sighed.  "It was just sort of unsettling for me, because
I'd taken you out to the Star that one night, and then you were suddenly
planning on leaving for the Achilles.  So it sort of seemed to be that
way for me."
	"Bojay, you've been wonderfully sweet to me for the past four
yahrens," she told him, reaching out to hold his hands.  "I can't thank
you enough, for taking the time to bring me to the Rising Star and
getting me away every once in a while.  Thank you."
	"It was nothing," he replied, squeezing her hands back.  "Sheba,
there was something I wanted to ask you the last time, but I never really
had the guts to ask until now.  I guess that I --"
	"Bojay?"
	He straightened up, his hands still in her grip.  "Yes?"
	"Just say it?"
	"Yes, ma'am, Captain Sheba, ma'am," he joked, then became serious. 
"I have to tell you that I've been thinking about... you and me, and I
think that we'd be able to be a good pair.  Remember when we were wing
mates, how no one on the Pegasus could beat us?  Not even Poinciana and
Hagan?"
	"I remember."  Sheba laughed as she recalled their long-lost
friends.  "I think my father was ready to strangle us more than once over
some of the stunts we pulled, but I do think we were the pair he could
really rely upon."
	"Sheba?"  There was a tone that Sheba hadn't heard before in his
voice, and she paid very careful attention to it.  "What do you think
your father would think of you and me... together again?"
	"Together again?  As wing mates?  No way, Bojay.  No matter how much
I miss flying, I can't go back to that just yet.  If ever."  She sighed. 
"I can't leave Josce in the lurch like that.  And I'm not going back to
--"
	"Oh, no, not as wing mates."  Bojay swallowed nervously, then
dropped down to one knee.  "Sheba, I can't bear to live without you. 
Please, will you be sealed with me?"
	That was the last thing in the universe that Sheba was expecting. 
Her mouth fell open in shock as she looked down at the hopeful look of
her old friend; his face more hopeful than she'd ever seen it before. 
She didn't trust herself to speak for the next few centons, and finally
Bojay laughed as he stood up.
	"Yeah, I guess that was sort of a big bomb to drop.  Look, if you
need time to think about it, I understand.  You know where to find me." 
Kissing her hands, he let go of them.  "Gotta run back to the Galactica
before the commander thinks we've been hijacked.  How about if I meet you
later?"
	Numbly, she nodded to the last proposition, her mind still reeling
from Bojay's major question.  Before he took two steps, she managed to
ask, "Why now?"
	He turned.  "Why not now?"
	"Why haven't you asked before?  Why wait until this moment?"
	"Bad timing, I guess."  He sighed, then returned to her.  "Look,
Sheba, it hasn't been easy on any of us these last few yahrens.  I mean,
look at you.  You developed such an intense relationship with Apollo... 
I felt scared and threatened by him.  He had you, the woman I've always
admired and wished that she could love me the way you did with him.  Even
though it was short."
	"Are you saying that I'm haunted by Apollo's memory?" she asked,
still uncertain that she was really hearing what she was hearing.
	"Well, yeah, I guess."  He motioned to the exit that Boxey and Josce
had passed through centons before.  "There's all the evidence you need. 
You don't want Josce to grow up not knowing where he came from.  That's
why you, Starbuck, Athena and the Commander, all basically gave life to
Apollo for Josce."
	"I really had no choice, not that I didn't want Josce to know who
Apollo was," she said.  "Starbuck sort of made it a priority for me,
especially since he doesn't know who his own parents were.  He doesn't
want his friend's son to grow up the same way."
	"And it's quite the obstacle to go up against."  Bojay took a deep
breath.  "I can't fight a memory, and I won't disturb his memory for you. 
All I want to know is if you have feelings for me that might echo how I
feel for you."
	She was silent for a few microns, then nodded her head slightly. 
"I've always cared for you, Bojay.  You were my closest friend next to
Poinciana on the Pegasus, and we were there for each other when we lost
our ship after Gamoray.  Even when we were separated, when you went your
own way, I missed you."
	"I see."  He looked down into her eyes, his blue eyes very sincere. 
"Do you love me, Sheba?"
	"Well, I... don't know."  It was an honest answer.  "I guess I do, a
little?"
	"Then will you be sealed to me?"
	"I need to think about it, Bojay.  This is still sort of sudden, no
matter what."
	"I understand."  He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek,
then kissed her.  "You know where to find me when you decide."
	It certainly wasn't the kind of conversation she could forget
easily.  Even while she tried to familiarize herself with the Achilles
with the aid of both Ludlow and her other new assistant, Nicci, her
thoughts kept returning to Bojay and his proposal.
	You have been dwelling in the past for a long while, both with
Father and Apollo's memories, she mused during one of the few moments she
had to herself after both boys were in bed and she was sitting in the
comfortably-sized living area.  Maybe it is time for you to move on.  I
mean, it's not as though Bojay's a stranger that you have to get to know. 
He's sweet and helpful, not to mention cute.  Apollo's never coming back,
I think that's something that's not debatable.  Maybe this feeling of
restlessness that got me over here was caused by my feelings for Bojay. 
And I think I want to share my life with someone, and Bojay is nearly
everything I want in a man.
	She smiled to herself, feeling slightly giddy as she hugged herself. 
She ignored the thought that breezed through her mind. But he's not
Apollo.
	They were eventually sealed a sectar later, in a private ceremony in
one of the smaller lounges on the Rising Star that had been reserved only
for them.  Sheba hadn't had the nerve to ask Adama to seal them, so
instead they had an actual Minister of the Koboliana oversee the sealing. 
Most of their friends were in attendance, and Sheba was positive that
they were feeling as happy as she was as the Minister took the symbol of
the Lords of Kobol and wrapped her and Bojay's wrists together.  When he
proclaimed that they were sealed for "all of the eternities," she felt
the current chapter of her life close to begin a new one.
	Being sealed wasn't as wonderful as she originally surmised it to
be, though.  Bojay was often gone on the Galactica while on patrol, and
he was only home maybe one secton every sectar in total.  She found
herself worried that she'd lose him to the Cylons, the way she'd lost
Apollo, but she ignored the thought as she buried herself in the details
of her growing sons and her duty as the Achilles' captain.
	When Bojay was home, though, Sheba observed how he reacted with
Boxey and Josce.  There didn't seem to be any real problems, though there
was some tension between Boxey and his new step-father.  He remembered
the fights between Apollo and Bojay while the darker captain was alive,
and he remembered how they had occurred.  And why.  As it was, Boxey
avoided being home at the same time as Bojay, preferring to spend most of
his time with his new friends on the Achilles.  There was one boy who was
the same age as Boxey, and the two were almost inseparable.  Although he
had a tendency to be goofy, Dillon was still a good friend to Boxey.
	Josce and Bojay were another story.  At first, Sheba worried that
there would be problems, since Josce was almost identical to his
biological father, but the two got along very well.  The only thing was
that Josce never called him "dad" or "father."  He was only addressed as
"Bojay."  Sheba wondered if Boxey had a hand in that, though she was
never able to get a definite answer.
	Life continued in a steady routine, with Bojay making his regular
visits from the Galactica; and friends from the battlestar, especially
Starbuck with Derdre and Cassiopia in tow, often made their way over for
a day or two.  Everything was going well with the Achilles, and things
had actually improved since Sheba's arrival, which made both her and the
crew very happy.
	Boxey decided to drop a bomb of his own two yahrens later.  Sheba
had always hoped that he would consider something else besides being a
warrior, since she knew that those who joined the military for personal
matters of revenge often burned themselves out before very long.  Boxey
had too much going for him to end up like that.  Although he had
developed a serious streak in him that was entirely too reminiscent of
Apollo, the now seventeen yahren old had the highest marks in his class,
and Sheba knew from observation that he was the object of several intense
crushes from his female classmates.
	One evening at dinner, which had begun so very quietly, Boxey wasn't
eating with the usual vigor.  Sheba let it slide for a few centons, but
when she realized that it wasn't going to pass, she asked him what was on
his mind.  Josce didn't seem to be too interested, preferring on playing
with some of his legumes instead of paying attention to the conversation.
	"I've come to a decision," he told her, studying her face with his
dark brown eyes.  Now that he was fully grown, he had some of his
biological mother's features, namely her eyes.  "It wasn't easy, but I
did anyway."
	"What is it?" she asked encouragingly.
	"The deadline for applications to the Academy for next term is this
sectar," he began.  "Dillon and I are applying."
	That wasn't a surprise, and she told him that she wished the best
for him.  It was a little more difficult to say that she wanted him to
consider other options, too, but he seemed to accept her words with
little comment.  Boxey's next statement, though, caught her off guard.
	"You want to change your name?" she repeated in disbelief.  "Why? 
Boxey is a fine name, and more importantly, it's your name.  Your mother
gave it to you when you were born, it's yours.  Nothing is more important
than your name.  Just ask Starbuck."
	"I know, and it's Starbuck I was talking to.  Apparently he had a
different name that the Caprican social services gave him, something like
Misha.  When he was twelve, he changed his name to something he wanted." 
Boxey paused.  "He picked a name that he felt reflected who he was, not
something that was given to him haphazardly.  That's why he chose
Starbuck."
	"And Kobol only knows why he picked that one."  Sheba shook her
head.  "Boxey, that's a different story.  You were given your name out of
love.  Tell me, what would you change it to?"
	"Troy."
	"I see.  Troy, as in the man who almost single-handedly won the
first battle against the Cylons back when the Thousand Yahren War began?" 
She wasn't surprised this time.  Colonel Troy had been one of the many
historical figures Apollo had thought a lot of.  "Well, at least it's a
good choice."
	"I thought so, too," Boxey responded.
	"And are you sure this is what you want?" she asked, and he replied
with a solemn nod.  "Well, then I can't exactly force you not to, since
you're just about an adult.  You should be making your own choices, and
I'll help you wherever I can."
	The name change went through with no problems, and five sectars
later, both Dillon and the newly christened Troy were on their way to the
Galactica to begin their new lives as Colonial Warrior cadets.  Josce
wasn't too happy for his brother, though.  The nearly six yahren old felt
that his brother was leaving him, even though Troy promised that he would
come back as often as possible.  Josce wasn't convinced.
	Nothing eventful had happened again until just a secton before, with
Starbuck being shot down in the middle of a battle.  Troy had called to
give the bad news, and that had started Josce's inconsolable crying. 
Sheba wondered if she'd done the right thing the day before by planning
on them returning to the Galactica to be with the mourning Cassiopia and
Derdre.  What would Apollo have done, she wondered?
	Sheba sighed as she put the poem back in the book, and with it, her
memories.  Quickly checking her messages, she saw that nothing important
had come up, so she headed for bed.  She entered the bedroom quietly,
trying not to wake Bojay as she climbed into bed, but her husband
nevertheless woke up.
	"How's he doing?" Bojay murmured sleepily.
	"Josce will be fine," she told him, pulling the covers up as she
realized that she didn't sound very convincing.  "He just needs some
time.  It's a pretty jarring thing to happen."
	"Yeah."  He sighed as he rolled over to kiss her.  "Good night,
Sheba."
	"'Night."  She lay quietly, listening to Bojay's breathing as he
fell back asleep.  Even though she was tired, her mind was whirling too
much to let her drop off to sleep just yet.  The words of another poem by
Josce's namesake came to mind, and she mouthed the words into the dark
room.

	"Some people say, 'Love does not exist.'
	To them I give this reply:
	'Can you feel the stars at night?
	Or see the wind apart from trees?
	Love exists only when seen,
	In people such as you and me.'"

Part 5 - Blue Squadron blues

	Starbuck didn't think he could catch his breath again as the first
period ended, and he staggered off to the side of the Triad court, where
he just about collapsed next to Apollo.  Sliding down the wall, he landed
on floor with his legs sprawled out, feeling the coolness of the wall and
deck against his sweaty skin as a shockingly cool relief.
	With a chuckle, Apollo sat down next to him, leaning against the
wall as he shook his damp hair out of his eyes.  His helmet was lying on
the deck next to him.  "How was that for the beginning of a game?"
	"Game?" Starbuck wheezed, even though he was over-exaggerating --
but only slightly.  "I was under the impression that this was a practice! 
Frak, Apollo, that was only the first period!  I don't have the benefit
of having a body that's twenty yahrens younger than I'm supposed to be! 
So quit showing off."
	"Who said anything about showing off?" Apollo asked, looking across
the court where Hagan and a lieutenant named Barthel were resting for the
few centons between the periods.  "Besides, buddy, we're winning,
remember?"
	Letting out a groan as he looked at the scoreboard, Starbuck
shrugged.  "Sacrifice, that's what it is.  I don't think I'll survive
another ten centons of this.  Besides, I think the only reason we're
winning is you.  Kobol, I wish I had your energy levels!  Say, that
implant of yours, does it give you some kind of advantage?"
	"In Triad?"  Apollo shrugged as Starbuck nodded, and he brought his
hand up to touch it, a gesture Starbuck had seen him do several times. 
"Not that I know of.  It works better when I'm out on missions, mostly in
a fighter, though it's been an advantage a few times on ground missions."
	"That I noticed.  You can hear things that I can barely pick up." 
Starbuck turned his head slightly so he could see the implant.  "Tell me,
does it hurt?  I mean, does it hurt having it there like that?  Or do you
even notice it anymore?"
	Apollo frowned as he thought about the question, tossing his helmet
from hand to hand.  "It can hurt.  I mean, I get more headaches now than
I ever did before on the Galactica, especially if the situation is really
stressful.  And when I used to have to interface directly with the
Shelborn ships, I sometimes got really bad migraines from what I would
call information overload.  Now, I just get headaches."
	Starbuck nodded as he turned his attention to their opponents.  "I
don't envy you.  But tell me, what does everyone else think?  And don't
give me any felgercarb about you not caring what others think.  I know
you, buddy, and I know that the one thing that bothers you is when people
think bad things about you.  Admit it.  So?"
	Letting out a sigh, Apollo waiting a few microns before answering. 
"That's one thing I've missed about you, Starbuck, the way you could get
me to get my feet back on the ground."
	"I thought that was your job with me?" Starbuck joked.
	"It is, but I do it for different reasons that don't apply to me." 
Apollo closed his eyes and sighed.  "But to answer your questions, yes,
it's caused quite the stir among some of the other squadrons when I
arrived.  I'm a member of Silver Spar Squadron now, as you know, but some
of the other squadrons, like Bronze and Gold Spar, didn't think too much
of me.  Especially with my, uh, reputation, if you will, from Gamoray. 
I'm sort of known as an uptight, pompous snitrad."
	"I wonder where they got that description from?" Starbuck laughed.
	"It's not funny," Apollo shot back.  "You should hear what they were
saying about you!  But it was the way I came aboard, you see, that caused
the latest batch of problems.  I'd just escaped the Shelborn and the
Cylons, and that put me under suspicion for being a spy.  The implant
only made things worse.  I mean, what kind of a human would want to be
made to be like a Cylon?  Not any sane one, right?"
	"But they were put in your head without your consent.  You weren't
even conscious, Apollo.  How can they accuse you of something like that?"
	"People believe what they want to believe, I guess.  Silver Spar
doesn't think the same as the others, though, either because Cain has a
tighter rein on them, or they just know me better."  Apollo smiled
slightly, then shook his head.  "Ah, well, things could be worse.  If I'd
stayed with the Shelborn longer than I did, imagine how many implants I'd
have by now."
	"More than that one?"  Starbuck studied the implant one last time. 
"You know, it looks kind of neat, now that I get a look at it.  Sort of
like a really nifty tattoo."
	Apollo snorted very loudly.  "Zac wanted to get a tattoo once, when
he was fifteen.  Apparently the girl he was interested in at the time had
a thing for guys with tattoos.  I'd rarely seen my mother blow her stack
as much as she did that day.  Father walked in while it was going on,
with Mother yelling at Zac.  I don't think he knew where to look,
especially when Zac was yelling back at her."
	"I vaguely remember hearing about that.  Your mother was fit to be
tied, that was for sure.  Did he ever date her, by the way?"
	"What?"  Apollo gave Starbuck a sidelong look.  "Who?"
	"Zac.  Did he ever date that girl who he had the crush on, or did he
forever pine after her like a sick daggit?"
	"I think he got to go out with her once, and she was such a snitrad
that he never bothered with her again.  He found a girl that he dated for
nearly six sectars.  And that was a record for him."
	"Well, that was Zac."  Starbuck grinned.  "You would look quite
dashing with a tattoo."
	"Yeah, it's just what I need, too.  Still, Boxey would be impressed
with his old dad, wouldn't he?  What about Josce?"
	"Josce's impressed by almost anything, and Boxey, well, he's got
that jaded twenty yahren old view of life.  Remember when we were like
that?"  Starbuck shook his head.  "In our third yahren at the Academy,
and didn't we know it all?  You knew all the protocols, I knew all the
girls, and together, we were a team that no one could match.  Many tried,
none succeeded."
	"I wouldn't go so far as to say that.  It's more like no one was
stupid enough to try."  Apollo had a wistful expression on his face.  "We
were quite the pair, though.  Me, trying to prove that I wasn't using my
father's name to get my way through life.  And then they all thought that
you were using me to get whatever it was they thought you wanted."
	"But we proved them wrong, didn't we?"  Starbuck laughed again.  "No
one dared call me a street rodens again."
	"That would be true."
	"Hey!"  The Triad ball rolled across the court from Hagan's hands to
bump into Apollo's legs, interrupting the warriors' reminiscing.  "Are
you two just going to let us win the game by forfeiting it?  Come on!  Up
and at 'em, boys!"
	"The only way you'll win this game, Hagan," Apollo shot back
good-naturedly as he stood, then tossed the ball back at the colonel, "is
if you actually beat us.  Sir."
	"Then get your astrum out on the court and play, Captain."
	Apollo shook his head, then looked down at his friend.  "Come on,
Starbuck."
	He groaned as Apollo helped him up.  "Do we have to?"
	"Uh huh.  Think of this game as deciding the glory of which
battlestar is better.  The Galactica versus the Pegasus.  I've always
been outnumbered, and now I have you."  Apollo grinned, the sight of
which caused Starbuck to grin as well.  Hades, seeing Apollo in a mood
that wasn't serious was enough to warrant a tugging of the old facial
muscles.  "How's that for inspiration?"
	"It could use some work, old buddy, but..."  He shrugged, then
stretched.  He winced as a joint in his shoulder popped, but then he
laughed.  "I think I can get this old war daggit working for the
occasion."
	"One more thing."  Apollo's smile took on a mischievous edge.  "You
should know that Hagan's a real wagerer.  Not as, uh, good as you are,
but still a pretty devoted one when the time comes.  You should make out
a wager on this.  It'll give them more a competitive edge, and at the
same time, give us what we need.  Hagan can never concentrate right when
he knows that there's something resting on the game."
	"Apollo!" Starbuck gasped.  "Your father always used to make snide
remarks about how I was corrupting you!  Here am I, not even being around
you for nine yahrens, and you're worse than I ever was!"
	"I had to catch up sometime," came the laughing reply.  "Come on, go
for it.  I'll even let you use my pay for a secton -- but only this once. 
Because it's for the glory of the Galactica."
	"Well..."  Starbuck glanced at the two Pegasus officers, then at his
best friend.  "Okay, just this once.  for the glory of the Galactica. 
And you'd better pay up, too."
	"I promise."
	"All right."  Starbuck looked at the waiting warriors, then walked
toward them.  He used a casual tone as he spoke.  "Say, Hagan, how much
is the reputation of the Pegasus worth to you?  The glory of your
battlestar versus ours, and it would be decided over the results of this
game."
	Hagan glanced at Barthel, and Starbuck knew that he was intrigued
but concerned.  "Why?"
	"Triad is just a game, but I like to spice things up."  Starbuck
smiled.  "Why don't we make this something worth playing for?  The glory
of the Galactica versus the glory of the Pegasus.  The loser, or the
lesser battlestar, gets the honor of taking the superior battlestar and
her representative team to the Officer's Club where a round of the finest
ambrosa will be served, courtesy of the losers."
	One of Hagan's eyebrows began to raise up.  He seemed to be
suspecting some kind of set up, and he looked at Apollo with an accusing
glance.  "This your idea, Captain?  Revenge for those battlestar jokes?"
	"Me?  Never."  Apollo put on his best innocent expression, which
actually looked semi-genuine to Starbuck.  "I have no idea where you
might have come up with that idea, sir."
	"Well?"  Starbuck fixed the colonel with sly look.  "Are you in?"
	Hagan studied the score board.  His team, represented by blue, was
losing by five points.  They had two periods left.  That was certainly
enough time for them to catch up with the Galacticans.  "Very well,
Lieutenant.  You're on.  The finest ambrosa in the Officer's Club."
	They gathered in the middle of the court, and Starbuck grasped onto
Hagan and Barthel's forearms, while Apollo did the same.  Meeting his
friend's green-eyed gaze with a grin, Starbuck waited for the buzzer to
go off before he joined with the others in starting to move their circle
around, going faster and faster until they had a good speed going.
	The micron the ball was thrown out of the last goal that Apollo had
scored, the circle was broken with all four players going for the ball at
the same time.  The results were chaos, like they usually were.  Starbuck
landed on top of Barthel, who had been attempting to prevent Apollo from
reaching the ball.  Hagan had succeeded better than the Pegasus
lieutenant, because he had the captain pinned down nicely less than a
metron from the ball.
	"Get the ball!" Starbuck yelled.
	"I'm trying," Apollo groaned, but most of Hagan's weight was on his
torso, "but there's a little problem."
	"Oh."  Starbuck let go of Barthel just enough so he could still pin
him down while reaching out to knock Hagan off Apollo.  It was partially
successful, but Hagan pulled away from Starbuck, adding more weight to
pin Apollo down as Starbuck came down on him, too.  "This isn't working
out too well."
	"For the glory of the Galactica," Apollo replied, deciding to try a
new tactic and push Hagan away.  "I come up with the stupidest ideas
sometimes."
	"You're telling me!" Starbuck shot back, tumbling back with Hagan in
his arms.  He held onto the wiggling colonel while Apollo scrambled
forward to grab the ball.  "About frakking time!"
	The game started in earnest, with Starbuck trying to get out of
Barthel's blocks so he could catch the ball when Apollo threw it at the
opposite wall.  He finally got out of the lieutenant's shadow and leapt
for the ball, somehow managing to catch to toss it into the nearest goal.
	"Lucky throw," Barthel grinned.
	"See if you can get eight of those lucky throws, my boy," Starbuck
replied sweetly.  "We should add the clause to our bet, Hagan, that you
have to buy us as many drinks as we make goals."
	"Who said anything about you?" the colonel returned as they went to
start the process all over again.  "I admit, though, that you and Apollo
make a very good team.  This is the first time we've been threatened with
being beaten by Apollo.  He and his other partner weren't as good as you
two."
	"Just biding my time in anticipation for this, Hagan," was Apollo's
reply.  "And you haven't seen anything yet!"
	The game took on a more competitive edge after that declaration from
Apollo, and Starbuck found himself enjoying the battle against the two
Pegasus warriors.  The action was rougher, but it was also refreshing. 
It was also very close.  Before the second period was over, the Blue team
has scored seven more points, approaching upon but not surpassing the
Gold team's lead after they received three more.
	Toward the end of the period, they were still neck to neck. 
Starbuck was about to pass the ball to Apollo when he heard noise from
the spectators gallery above the court.  He turned to look up, and was
greeted by the sight of several female faces looking down at the four
sweaty men.  He was surprised at their appearance, and Barthel took the
opportunity to grab the ball from his hands.  The lieutenant ran across
the court, passed the ball to Hagan, who narrowly missed being
body-checked by Apollo before putting the ball directly into the goal.
	"Nice move, Starbuck," Apollo said, going to pat his friend on the
shoulder.  "Still distracted by a pretty face, huh?"
	"Hey, no fair.  I thought this was a private game."  Starbuck peered
up at the women, who were all dressed in warrior's uniforms except for
one.  He recognized Poinciana and Bina, but there were three new ones
that he hadn't met yet in his twenty-seven centars aboard the Pegasus.
	"I'll believe you where others wouldn't," Apollo muttered, then
waved.  "Hello, ladies!  Enjoying the show?"
	One woman with brown hair and bright blue eyes, made a face.  "If
you call parading your skinny bodies around the court a show, then you've
got another think coming, Apollo."
	"That's Captain Sheelah," Apollo whispered to Starbuck, "also known
as Poinciana's partner in crime.  Not as nasty as Poinciana, but still a
force to be dealt with."
	"Your words cut to the quick of my heart," Hagan returned to the
woman.  "Now, my dear Captain, if you want to come down here and play in
your Triad uniform, I'll call that a show."
	"Be glad that you're down there instead of up here, Colonel," she
returned with a cultured air.  "Otherwise, I might have been tempted to
push you down."
	"That'll be the day," he laughed.
	The other two women smiled as they observed the scene before them. 
One, a woman with dark skin and even darker hair, gave Starbuck a big
grin, while the woman next to her, with a pale, round face and dark
slanted eyes, looked on with interest.
	"Actually," the dark one said, giving Starbuck a once-over, "I think
I'll take him.  What's your name, stranger?"
	Feeling his face blush at the advance being made, Starbuck allowed
himself to smile as charmingly as possible.  "Starbuck is the name."
	"Hello, Starbuck," she responded.  "I'm Franca; and this is Kaguya. 
I've heard about you from Apollo."
	"You're making me quite the news item," Starbuck said quietly to his
friend, his voice wry.  He then spoke up so the women could hear him. 
"Pleased to meet you both!"
	"So, we've got a wager going here," Hagan continued after the
frivolities.  "Whoever loses buys a round for the winners.  I'd like to
take this opportunity to invite all of you to join us in the Officers'
Club after the game, so Apollo and Starbuck can buy us our drinks.  The
finest ambrosa that Gottfried has in his stash."
	"Oh, sounds a little rich for my blood," Sheelah laughed.  "But
we're in.  Aren't we, girls?"
	"Five and two makes seven," Bina spoke up.  "Seven servings.  Think
you can afford that, boys?"
	"Hey, the game's not over yet!" Apollo protested.
	"And we didn't finalize the rules yet," Starbuck added, seeing all
possibilities of a good bet going down the turboflush.  He jabbed Apollo
in the ribs while whispering, "If we lose, you pay for the girls.  I
don't have any cubits on me yet, and this is getting a little out of
hand.  Hagan does not seem to be losing his cool."
	"Then we're just going to have to try that much harder to win,"
Apollo replied.  He turned toward the colonel.  "Shall we finish, sir?"
	"Of course."  Hagan rubbed his hands together.  "Shall we?"
	"As long as it doesn't take too long," Poinciana told him.  "We have
a war quorum on the Star Kobol within the centar."
	Both Barthel and Apollo groaned, while Hagan nodded in agreement. 
"Just one more period then.  We'll save the drinks for after the
meeting."
	Starbuck cast an odd look at Apollo.  "What in Hades' is a war
quorum?"
	"It's a meeting that takes place every secton or so," Apollo said,
reaching up to readjust his helmet where the straps had loosened.  "Cain
meets with the leaders of this Council of Twelve, along with some key
warriors and other appointed officials, usually ship captains or their
representatives.  We meet in the big council chamber on the Kobol to
discuss what we're going to do next about the Cylons, usually by
analyzing telemetry and other data.  Takes about three centars, sometimes
more, sometimes less.  Usually nothing comes out of it except some
occasional heckling.  It does give the Council the opportunity to bug the
Hades out of Cain."
	"So this Council is just as annoying as the one back home?" Starbuck
asked.
	"Nope."  Apollo gave the straps one final tug.  "Just more
legitimately concerned.  I'll explain later, but let's just say that they
have their reasons."
	"Okay, let's get on with it, guys!" Kaguya announced.  "Move those
cute tushies of yours!"
	Starbuck was the one to groan this time.  "Great, not only are they
critiquing our game, but they're critiquing our bodies.  Lovely."
	"Squadron morale," Apollo told him.  "You'll never meet a more
honest squadron... well, in some areas.  I think sometimes that Sheba,
Brie, Dietra and Athena had a bit more restraint, though."
	"With you as squadron commander, they certainly did."  Starbuck
shook his head, then went off to the middle of the Triad court.  "Let's
get this over with."
	If the last two periods had been intense, then the third and final
period was excruciating.  Reacting to the cheers and yells of the women,
the four players were more intent than anything to win.  For every goal
one team scored, the other was quick to have another one.  Apollo and
Starbuck still held the lead by a very narrow point, but it wouldn't take
much to lose it.
	Starbuck glanced at the scoreboard, seeing that it had just over two
centons left.  If they could only get two more goals, while somehow
keeping Hagan and Barthel from scoring, they'd win the game.  The only
question was how.
	Hagan was trying to block Apollo, who had gained possession of the
ball.  The captain was trying to get around him, and Starbuck dodged
Barthel to get in range of the ball's path when Apollo finally threw it. 
Starbuck grabbed it, missing Barthel's body-check with less space than he
was comfortable with, and somehow managed to get the ball into the goal. 
He cheered as the point was added to their score, and he gave Apollo a
big victory hug.
	In the spectators' area, Bina and Kaguya were groaning loudly over
the Gold team's goal, sending down taunts that made Apollo laugh. 
Starbuck looked at him quizzically, then joined in, too, when Franca and
Sheelah started cheering louder than their wingmates.
	One centon.  They went back into the middle of the court, and
Starbuck looked right into Apollo's eyes.  They had the lead, and all
they needed to do was keep the others busy for the time that remained. 
Easy enough.  Starbuck gave him a wide grin that was full of mischief,
hoping that Apollo knew what he meant.  To his relief, Apollo gave the
briefest of nods.
	"Let's play," Starbuck grinned.
	They started going around in a circle, and the micron the ball shot
out of the goal, the two Galactican warriors let the Blue team go after
the ball, then blocked them as carefully as possible.  Every turn that
Barthel and Hagan made was blocked by their opponent.  The cheers from
the four women -- excluding Poinciana for whatever reason -- filled the
arena as the timer counted down to the last few microns.
	"No fair!" Barthel protested whenever Starbuck moved directly in
front of him.  Whatever glimpses he had of his team mate told him that
Hagan was being equally blocked by Apollo.
	"Ten microns!" the spectators shouted.  "Eight, seven, six...!"
	A new voice joined in the count, and Starbuck glanced up to see
Poinciana sitting forward in her seat, counting along with her friends.
	"Five!  Four, three, two, one!"
	The klaxon that ended the game blared through the arena, and
Starbuck threw himself at Apollo, wrapping his arms around his friend's
neck in sheer delight.  His voice was barely heard over the women.  "We
did it, Apollo!  We did it!"
	"That we did!" he laughed.
	Starbuck was dancing about, leading Apollo with him.  "We did it! 
We did it!"  He let go of Apollo to whirl about to look at their
opponents.  "Hagan, Barthel, great game.  Let's do it again, huh?  In the
meantime, I expect our drinks when we get back from this war quorum!"
	"Yeah, sure," Barthel responded as he left the arena.
	"The Galactica's glory is intact for the evening, Captain,
Lieutenant," Hagan responded somberly, but then he broke into a grin. 
"Congratulations.  Once we're back from the Kobol, we'll get you those
drinks."
	"And ours, too, don't forget!" Sheelah called from the gallery.
	"And yours, my dear!" he replied, then looked at the victors. 
"Okay, we'll be leaving for the quorum within the centar, and we'll
probably meet Cain there.  You'll be expected to make a report, Starbuck,
but Apollo will tell you what to do.  And don't be late for the shuttle!"
	With a final grin, the colonel followed Barthel's lead.  Starbuck
sighed as he watched Hagan leave, then turned to Apollo.  "Well, shall we
go?"
	"Yeah, that might be a good idea."  Apollo took his helmet off and
pushed his hair out of his eyes.  "You know what happens when Cain's not
happy, and being late does not make him happy."
	"I can believe that.  After you, old buddy."  Starbuck motioned to
the exit, then glanced up at the gallery.  The women were getting ready
to leave, but Poinciana was looking down at the court.  More
specifically, her gaze was directed right at Apollo, who glanced up
briefly, then hurried out of the arena.
	Suddenly more curious than a felino, Starbuck caught up to him, but
he didn't dare to ask anything until they were in their changing room. 
And even then, he waited until they were both out of the turbowash and
getting dressed.
	"What's the deal with Poinciana?" he finally asked, putting an
innocent note into his voice.  He didn't look directly at Apollo, but
instead watched him out of the corner of his eye.
	"Poinciana?" he repeated, pausing as he did up his boots.  "Why?"
	"Oh, it's just that she's sort of an odd ball."  Taking a deep
breath, he decided to be blunt.  "Or to be more precise, she seems to
have a thing for you.  Is there something going on that I should know
about?  I mean, I was under the impression that she was with Cain."
	"She used to be with Cain, you mean.  When Meve was four, they
stopped seeing each other romantically."  Apollo sighed loudly.  "Yeah, I
guess she has a thing for me."
	"And is it mutual?"  Starbuck almost hated to ask.
	The snort he heard coming from his friend told him practically all
he needed to know.  "What in Hades do you think all that was in my
quarters after Cain's little blowup, Starbuck?  Me just missing an old
friend?"
	"I had to ask," he said, ignoring the sarcasm.  He saw Apollo shrug
before he put his tunic on.  "So, what's this about me having to give a
presentation?"
	"Oh, that.  I had to make one of those, too.  You have to report to
the quorum about what you know about what's been happening in the fleet. 
Sort of like what you told Cain, maybe even more if you can recall it." 
Apollo finished fastening his own tunic and smoothed it down.  "It
doesn't have be anything more than five centons, maybe ten if there are a
lot of questions.  There just might be, though.  I'd last seen the fleet
seven yahrens before when I made my presentation, so there wasn't much
else I could tell them."
	"Then it shouldn't be hard."
	"It's not, providing they don't ask too many questions."  Apollo
smiled slightly.  "Oh, by the way, there'll be a surprise there.  Just to
warn you."
	"Oh?  What?" Starbuck asked suspiciously.  "I don't think I like
your surprises too much."
	"You'll see when we get to the quorum," came the reply.
	Once they were dressed, they met up with Hagan and Barthel to head
down to the launching bay, where the women were already gathered.  A
shuttle was waiting for them, with Colonel Tolen towering in the
hatchway.  It was the first time Starbuck had seen the tall colonel since
he'd come aboard, and he smiled in greeting.
	"Commander Cain is already on the Star Kobol," he announced,
sounding nonplused.  "He is awaiting your arrival before the quorum
begins."
	The shuttle ride didn't take very long, and Starbuck soon found
himself aboard the presidential liner.  Unlike the interior of the
Pegasus, which tended to be stark, utilitarian and low on amenities, the
Star Kobol was anything but a military ship.  It was lush and
comfortable, almost like a home away from home.
	The Pegasus delegation made its way through the wide and comfortably
lit corridors and Starbuck found himself looking around in interest.  The
walls were colored a welcoming grey, with an occasional picture or
painting hung on one of the wide expanse of bulkhead.  The art was
invariably a scene from someplace in the Twelve Worlds, and Starbuck
recognized some of the names as being the most famous artists from the
Colonies.
	One painting, a scene of a mid-autumn Caprican sunset set in his
portion of their home world, caught his interest, especially since he
recognized the Thorn Forest in the background.  Starbuck stopped to look
at it for a few microns, interrupted only when Apollo noticed his lagging
to join him.
	"Only the best can be found on this ship," he said, smiling wryly as
he admired the picture.  "Now you know where some of our tax cubits then,
huh?"
	"If only we'd known back then," Starbuck sighed.  "Oh, well.  So,
how much further to where this war quorum is supposed to be held?"
	"Not too far.  The Council room is in the heart of the ship, for
security reasons.  We'll be there shortly."
	He was right. Five centons later, after striding to meet up with the
rest of their party, they came upon a large auditorium where at least
fifty people had gathered.  Cain was already at the large council table
on the raised dais at the center of the room, and he was quickly joined
by Hagan and Tolen as they came to flank him.
	Aside from Cain and the colonels, there were several other people
sitting about the table.  Ten of them, not surprisingly, had the robes of
Councilors, while there was at least one other Colonial uniform.  The
other six wore civilian clothes, but with a particular style that hinted
at their occupation as ships' captains.
	Starbuck and Apollo joined Sheelah, Poinciana and the other Pegasus
warriors in one of the rows closest to the front, making themselves
comfortable while waiting for the quorum to begin.  Crossing his legs,
Starbuck eyed the group again, then leaned in to whisper in Apollo's ear,
"Say, which one is Helen?  The woman in the dress blues?"
	"Yeah, that's her.  The redhead who is fifth from the right," Apollo
replied in an equally hushed voice.  "She's sometimes fun to watch when
she goes after Cain when either or both of them are being thick-headed."
	"I'm looking forward to it."  Starbuck watched Helen for a few more
microns, but then his gaze was attracted to the woman sitting on the
commander's right.  The woman's hair was a light silver, and her face was
one that he knew he also shouldn't be seeing.  Still, after he blinked a
few times, he realized that it was indeed who he thought it was.  He
turned to Apollo again, seeing the same features mirrored on his friend's
face.
	"Uh, Apollo..." he began, glancing back at the woman, "I don't want
to sound like an astrum or a dimwit, but isn't that your mother at the
table next to Helen?"
	"Surprise!" Apollo grinned.  "I was wondering when you were going to
notice her."
	"Oh, sweet Kobol," Starbuck groaned, especially when Ila smiled
widely as she recognized them.  Apollo waved briefly, and her smile
widened as she mouthed Starbuck's name, to which Apollo nodded.  "I'm
glad that you saved this for today rather then add it to yesterday's list
of potential heart attacks, old buddy."
	"You think that you're having a heart attack?"  Apollo leaned back
in his seat.  "You should have seen me!  I'd always been under the
impression that she perished in the Holocaust, especially when we didn't
find her when we went back, and when she didn't turn up when the fleet
left."
	"For Sagan's sake, what is this fleet?  The last refuge for the
refuse of the universe?" Starbuck mused.  "We weren't wanted, so we were
all dumped here?"
	"Maybe, maybe not.  Now be quiet, the quorum's beginning."
	Helen stood at the podium in front of the table, waiting for the
murmurs in the auditorium to end before she spoke.  Her voice had a
pleasant timbre that echoed through the auditorium, and for the next five
centons, she summarized the events that had happened in the fleet since
the quorum last met.  There wasn't much except for the news of Starbuck's
arrival, which caught everyone's interest.  Feeling dramatic, Starbuck
waved at the curious faces like some visiting monarch.
	"That is all I can say at this centon," Helen summarized, looking
over in Starbuck's general location, an amused expression on her face. 
"However, if we hear from the lieutenant about what is the situation in
the fleet, I'm sure we'll have plenty to discuss.  Lieutenant Starbuck?"
	With a pat on the shoulder from Apollo that was supposed to be
encouraging, Starbuck slowly rose from his seat to join the commander at
the podium.  She smiled at him and shook his hand.
	"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant," she told him.
	"Likewise," he replied as Helen returned to her seat to leave him at
the podium.  He glanced back as she sat, catching Ila's gaze before he
turned back to look at the assembled audience.  "Well, uh, hello.  Like
the Commander said, my name is Lieutenant Starbuck, from the Battlestar
Galactica.  For the past several sectars, I've been stranded on a planet,
so I'm a little out-of-date with the current situation on the Galactica,
but what I do know, I'll tell."
	With short sentences, he summarized everything he had told Cain and
Apollo the day before, plus any additional details he'd forgotten.  When
he was finished a half centar later, there was a pause following his
words as he went back to his seat.
	"Well," Helen said.  "Thank you, Lieutenant."
	He nodded in acknowledgment as Ila rose from her seat, clearly about
to make a statement.  Starbuck had to admit that she made a fairly
impressive sight, one that could have made Adama look meek compared to
her.  "It is my opinion that we shall continue with our present course. 
The information Starbuck provided really does not affect us.  We know
that the Cylons are still active, and mainly concentrated on the
Galactica and her fleet.  We just have to watch for stragglers, and for
the Shelborn."
	Starbuck sat up straight in his seat as he heard the name of the
aliens who had used Ravishol to clone Apollo's body.  "What about the
Shelborn?"
	"The main Shelborn force was defeated three yahrens ago," Cain
explained.  "However, they're still around, determined to make life
miserable for the Cylons.  They'll attack anyone or anything if they
think it'll help them in their quest.  We've already endured many attacks
since then, and while they're not much to fight against, they're still a
nuisance."
	"A potentially threatening nuisance as well," Helen added. 
"Especially since they're determined not to let anything of theirs, or
from any other species, fall into the hands of the Cylons."
	At Helen's words, Starbuck stole a glance at Apollo, who didn't
appear to be perturbed at the statement, though Starbuck had a funny
feeling that he was more affected than he looked.  Instead, Apollo asked,
"Anything lately from the Heimdall?"
	"We haven't heard from any of them lately," Cain replied.  "Not
since our communique from several sectons ago.  We don't know where they
are, or what their situation is."
	Ila noticed the confusion on Starbuck's face, and quickly jumped in
with, "The Heimdall are our allies.  Or rather, they would be our allies
if they were in contact with us more.  They're an alien race who have
somehow evaded all contact with the Cylons, even though they're a
space-faring nation.  It's my impression that they're not even from this
area of space, and that they're just lurking and collecting information."
	"Oh, I see."  Starbuck nodded, and he sat through more debates from
the members of the quorum, waiting until they decided that they should
take a break for a half centar before continuing.
	Ila quickly left the table to meet them as soon as the break began,
hurrying over to her son and Starbuck to greet them.  She gave Apollo a
hug to begin with, then looked at Starbuck carefully before giving him
one as well.
	"Starbuck, it's wonderful to see you!" she exclaimed, holding his
face in her hands to examine him again.  "And you look wonderful for
being marooned on a planet."
	"Thanks, Siress," he laughed, automatically using her title as he
always had since he became friends with Apollo while they were teenagers.
	"Ila, Starbuck.  Call me Ila.  You don't have to be so formal around
me, and you know that perfectly well."  She smiled, then grabbed both of
their arms.  "I don't know about you two, but I'm a little hungry.  Why
don't we grab something to eat?"
	"Sounds good to me," Apollo said.
	"Yeah, I wouldn't mind something to eat."  Starbuck looked slyly at
mother and son.  "And I think I'm owed some stories.  I mean, how did you
make it here instead of the Galactica's fleet, Ila?  And Apollo, I'm
still waiting to hear about you."
	"Let Mother tell hers first.  Mine might take a little longer."
	"It's not much to tell, though," Ila protested as they left the
auditorium to head for the Kobol's dining lounge.  She sighed as she saw
the lineup that had already formed.  "Apollo, why don't you get us
something to eat, while we get a table and wait for you.  I'll explain
everything to him while you're gone.  Do you mind?"
	"Nope.  See you in a bit."
	Ila steered Starbuck toward an empty table near the back, settling
down across from the lieutenant with a sigh.  "Well, where do I start?"
	"Well, where were you that day, I guess."  Starbuck shrugged
slightly.  "I'd always had a funny feeling whenever I thought about what
the Commander said happened to you during the Annihilation.  He said that
you were at home, and I know that even Apollo was little skeptical was
that."
	"It's funny that he would have thought that," Ila said, shaking her
head.  "Why would I be home on the most important in our civilization's
history?  No, even though the attack was very early morning, I was
already out of the house.  I had to attend one of the early functions
that day, where the Caprica City council was going to go through the
final plans.   Oh, what a party there would have been if the Cylons
hadn't attacked!"
	"I can imagine," Starbuck grinned.
	"Anyway, the day before, I received a call from my old friend,
Zakiya, who I hadn't seen in well over a yahren or two.  Her entire
family was away from home, just like mine was, so we decided to get
together for old times' sake, which we did.  There was a cafe in downtown
Caprica City that we used to go to when we were students, and it was
still operating.  Benedict's kafe house, and they had the best kakao this
side of Gemon.  Heavenly!
	"We met there for a very early breakfast, and were in the middle of
reminiscing when the attack started.  We both survived because the
restaurant thankfully had a bomb shelter.  Somehow, I'm not sure how, we
heard about Adama's announcement, that a fleet was being assembled. 
There was no doubt that I had to get up there, to be with him.  That's
when the trouble started.
	"The first migration had two ships being loaded at Caprica City --
the Rising Star and another ship whose name escapes me.  That's the one
we went to first, but they wouldn't allow us aboard.  We were too old,
they said.  They weren't letting anyone over middle age aboard.  We
hurried over to the Rising Star, but by the time we reached it, there
wasn't any room.
	"And so we were stuck, knowing that the Cylons would eventually be
arriving to finish what they started.  It was only by a miracle that more
ships were found, though it was too late to join up with the Galactica
and her fleet.  We had to try, though.  That was when the Star Kobol
arrived, and we headed out after the fleet.  So that's more or less it."
	"Wow.  And you didn't ever have time to get a message off to the
Commander?  Just to say that you were alive?"  No sooner were the words
out of his mouth, he realized what they meant.  "Of course you wouldn't. 
That would have made him turn back to find you, or if he still left, he
would have been wracked with more guilt than he already was."
	She nodded.  "It broke my heart to see them leave -- I didn't even
know about my children.  I heard that Adama was accompanied by one of his
sons, but I didn't know if it was Zac or Apollo, and I didn't know about
Athena.  It was the worst time of my life, Starbuck."
	"I'm sorry, Ila, that you had to go through that," he said
sincerely.  "Does having Apollo with you now help at all?"
	"Well, yes, it does."  She smiled at she glanced over at her son
standing in line.  "Though I don't envy Adama for how he feels.  I
imagine that he was horribly upset when Apollo disappeared."
	"Upset is an understatement," Starbuck sighed.  "Tell me, has Apollo
ever told you about Boxey?"
	Ila smiled widely.  "Of course!  Tell me, how are they?  Boxey and
Athena?  And Adama, too?  I was so delighted to hear that Apollo had
adopted that little boy, though I suppose he isn't so little anymore?"
	"No, Boxey's rather tall now, and he's a cadet in the Galactica's
Academy.  He's twenty now."  Starbuck grinned.  "And your other grandson,
Josce, would have just turned nine."
	He laughed as Ila's blue eyes grew wide with surprise.  "Athena's
son?"
	"No, Apollo's.  He just didn't know about the pregnancy when he left
the Galactica.  The mother is Cain's daughter, Sheba."
	"Apollo's mentioned his relationship with Sheba to me, but it's
still hard for me to imagine they together."  Ila laughed as she
continued.  Her eyes had a sparkle in them that made Starbuck mirror the
grin that had appeared on her face.  "I never had the impression that
they would ever get along!  They met once when they were small, you see,
and they didn't get along at all.  I'm not surprised that they don't
remember it, but I certainly do.  Thank you, Starbuck, for the good laugh
and the news."
	"No problem.  Josce's a good kid, and in Boxey's eyes, he can do no
wrong."  Starbuck smiled as he remembered his nephew.  "And to Sheba,
he's the light of her life.  I don't think she could have survived
Apollo's death as easily as she did without Josce."
	"Starbuck?"  Ila lowered her voice as she leaned in closer to him. 
"I want an honest answer from you, and that means not hiding your true
opinion from me.  Do you believe that the Apollo we have with us is the
real Apollo?"
	"So you know about the Shelborn, and this body being that of a clone
and all that?" he asked.
	"Yes, Cain told me the basics, and Apollo told me everything else
once he was able to after waking up on the Pegasus when the warriors
recovered him."
	"Well..."  Starbuck paused, then finally nodded.  "Yes, it's him. 
Somehow, it's really him, despite all that's happened."
	"And how do you know?" she pressed.  "I know I'm playing the devil's
advocate here, but why don't you think he's isn't just a clone with
memory implants?  How do you know this is Apollo... reborn, shall we
say?"
	Starbuck had to pause again to collect his thoughts.  He looked over
at Apollo, who hadn't noticed the conversation going on at the table yet,
or all the looks being directed toward him.  "When Apollo died, I was the
only one who was there with him.  I tried to save him, but he wouldn't
let me.  I think he just wanted the pain to end.  Anyway, his last words
to me were, 'I'll see you later.'  When we met down on the planet, he
said them to me again, in response to a question I asked about that."
	"I see," Ila nodded, leaning back in her seat again.  "I think so,
too.  I know it's him.  When I first saw him, I went back into my old
habit of calling him 'Appy,' which I know he hates, but I can't help
myself sometimes.  It's a mother's privilege to tease her children, but
the micron I saw him lying there in the Life Center, I called him that. 
Even though Cain had warned me about the cloning and what I might find,
the micron he made that face and said, 'Mother, I haven't seen you for
over eleven yahrens, and the best thing you can think of saying is my
horrid nickname?', I knew it was him."
	"That's cute," Starbuck laughed, especially at Ila's imitation of
her son's voice and gestures.  "Ah, I'd forgotten about Appy.  I bet that
Sheba would have had a field day with that one.  Would have driven Apollo
nuts, too!"
	Ila grinned, then her smile faded again.  "But all that remains now
is trying to understand why he's back the way he is.  And how."
	"I have no idea why," Starbuck said, watching as Apollo reached the
head of the line and started collecting their food.  He knew that they'd
have to change the subject quickly, since Apollo would undoubtedly head
over in their direction as soon as he was finished.  "I think there some
things in this universe that just happen for a reason, but the reason
isn't always apparent."
	"Ah, my dear Starbuck, you sound exactly like Adama," Ila sighed,
but she was smiling again.  He'd always been able to get her to laugh
whenever he saw her.  "He would always try to come up with a reason for
something whenever it happened.  Sometimes it would be religious, other
times just scientific.  But there was always a reason."
	"Always a reason for what?" Apollo asked, surprising Starbuck with
his quick walk from the food line to their table.  Setting down the
different plates, Apollo shook his head slightly before sitting down next
to his mother.  "Well, here's the best of presidentially approved
rations."
	"Oh, lovely.  Mushies and protein."  Starbuck pulled his in front of
him, then sighed.  "So what's the reason for this sorry excuse for food?"
	"I wish I had an answer for that," Ila said wistfully.  "I do have
to say that I've had worse, though."
	"Sure you have, Mother," Apollo replied.  "I don't think anything
can be as bad as what the Shelborn consider to be food.  The Cylons
aren't much better, or maybe they're worse.  Either way, it's pretty
bad."
	"But not as bad as your father's cooking attempts?" she teased.
	"Let's just not go there," Apollo laughed, then wrinkled his nose in
disgust.  "But the Shelborn had these dried fruits that made these
rations taste like gourmet food."
	"Tell us about it, then, old buddy."  Starbuck smiled as he speared
a forkful of protein.  "And while you're at it, add it all the other
details about what happened after you left Paka."
	"Are you sure?  Do we have enough time before we have to head back
to the quorum?"  Apollo directed the last question more toward Ila than
to Starbuck.
	"Oh, don't worry about me, Apollo.  I've already heard the story.  I
don't think we'll be needing Starbuck again, so take all the time you
want out here."
	"Well, in that case..."  Apollo grinned as he pushed his plate away
slightly.  "I guess I'll give you the really detailed version of the
story.  If you want it, that is."
	Starbuck returned the grin.  "I wouldn't miss this for all the
mushies in the fleet."
	"You aren't missing much," Ila said, having taken a bite of a
mushie.  She made a face to go along with her comment.  "But don't let
that stop your story, Apollo."
	"Fine, fine.  Where did I leave off last, Starbuck?"
	"Just when you left Paka with the rest of the convoy," he replied,
anticipating what he was about to hear.
	"Right.  Well, life was boring for a while, but then it got
interesting again....."

Part 6 - Cry for freedom

	Bohunupas was a strange world.  Its land was red; its skies the
color of an early morning sunrise.  It was beautiful, but it was strange. 
We settled in the planet's central continent, on a large forested plain
with enough grassland to make a sizable landing strip.
	This was the third world we'd colonized since leaving Paka nearly
nine sectars before.  The last world, Brennus, had been overrun by Cylons
not even a sectar into our occupation.  Here, we were now heavily
defended not only by our own ships, but the Shelborn who kept a steady
stream of warships above the planet.
	There was no mistaking a war that was about to be lost; I'd already
seen it back in the Colonies in the yahrens before the Annihilation. 
This was a desperate battle that the Shelborn were determined to win
despite the odds, and no one seemed aware of it except for me, Ser
Five-Nine, and the Shelborn.
	Everyone else was content in living life as though nothing was
wrong.  That was fine for the time being.  The other members of my series
were fitting in nicely with the community, and it was interesting to
watch them interact with the others.  I still found the first four
annoying, which meant that Siap was the only one I spent much time with,
but I was learning to tolerate their antics.
	I was sometimes amazed at how they behaved.  It was like watching a
vid of someone like Starbuck occupying my body.  Unoap, Segundap and Siap
were true ladies-men, able to sweet talk almost any of the female
inhabitants into spending at least a little time together.  It was really
quite amazing that none of them ended up pregnant, since I had no doubts
about what those little whispered words led up to.
	I was assigned to the same billet as Siap, since we were still
wingmates, and at nights after curfew, I'd try to engage him in
conversation.  He was the only other one who gave much thought to life
beyond the Cylons, the Shelborn, and our day-to-day existence here on
Bohunupas.  He seemed to understand the reason for my sometimes withdrawn
behavior, unlike the others.
	It all stemmed from the day Siap has found me in the terrain
surrounding the base.  To get away from the others, I often took walks
when we weren't training or supposed to be sleeping, exploring what lay
beyond the base and the airstrip.  It was mostly trees and brush, but I
eventually came upon an outcropping of rocks that surrounded a spring. 
It became the spot I went to practically every day.
	There, it was quiet, and I could just sit and let my mind wander. 
One morning when I'd been in a particularly contemplative mood, I had
suddenly come under the impression that if I turned around very slowly,
I'd find a camp made of Galactican warriors.  My imagination whispered to
me that I'd been dreaming everything, and that if I returned to the camp
that was supposed to be there, I'd find Starbuck, Sheba, Boomer, Athena,
and the other members of Blue Squadron waiting there for me.  I wasn't
able to go back to the base until I was sure that the redness in my eyes
had disappeared, and my emotions settled to a much calmer state.
	I was homesick, no doubt about it.  The more time passed, the more I
longed for the way things were seven yahrens ago.  Often while in my
secret spot, I would close my eyes and think about what might have
happened if I hadn't died there on the planet with Starbuck.  Had it been
necessary?  The more I thought about it, I realized that I could have
hung on stubbornly while Starbuck radioed for help.  He could have freed
me in the time it took for them to arrive, maybe even tried to do
something about my injuries while we waited.  That way, we'd be back on
the Galactica, I'd be safe in the Life Center, surrounded by my loved
ones while trying my best to recover to what I was before the accident.
	I sighed as I thought about it, skipping a few stones across the
surface of the spring as I imagined what my life would have been like. 
It would have been a long recovery, one that I possibly never would have
finished for the rest of my life.  Comparing that possible reality with
what I had now, I wished that I had opted for the other one.
	There had to have been a reason for bringing me back to life.  I
knew that more than anything else.  There had been something that I
hadn't completed, some task left undone, and I had to complete it. 
Somehow.  My destiny depended on it like a mammal does air.
	For the time being, my destiny consisted of fighting the Cylons. 
The Cylons were making enormous advances on the Shelborn, and we were
feeling it.  The implants aided us in flying better than was humanly
possibly, but our opponents certainly weren't human.  Very slowly, the
casualty rate among our pilots began to rise.  With the first sectar, the
first of our series was killed during a mission, Quadap.  He and Tercerap
were ambushed, and their fighter had taken several major hits before
crashing.  Tercerap survived with minor injuries, while Quadap had died
before the ship impacted the surface.
	With Quadap's death, a sense of foreboding seemed to have descended
on the base.  The sense of gaiety that had existed before simply
vanished, and anytime we were all in the same room, it seemed oddly
quiet.  Quadap, the most talkative one of us, would have filled it with
jokes -- usually bad ones -- but now he was gone.  Even I missed him.
	Ser Five-Nine intercepted me one afternoon when I finished my day's
worth of training, about to head back to my spot.  We had been trying out
new strategies in the sims that required a higher level of use with the
implants, and I had the beginning of a headache.  I just wanted to be
alone, so when I felt Ser Five-Nine's hand on my arm, I groaned.
	"Forgive me for interrupting you," he said quickly, but he didn't
remove his hand.  "There's something you should know."
	Looking at him, I could see that he was bothered by whatever it was
he was going to say.  Reluctantly, I nodded just enough so that the
motion didn't jar my already sensitive head.  "Sure.  Why don't we go
outside?  I need some fresh air after that long training session.  Eight
centars, can you believe it?"
	I babbled on, much to my astonishment, as we left the base.  Ser
Five-Nine seemed to be amused with what I was doing, but he must have
realized as much as me that this certainly wasn't a normal reaction.  I
could sense that the topic of conversation was heavy, and it wasn't
something I really wanted to deal with at that centon.
	We eventually ended up at the spring, and as I took my favorite
spot, Ser Five-Nine examined the area.  I had the feeling that he still
wasn't used to environments that weren't full of snow and ice. 
Eventually, he settled down across from me.
	"Well?" I asked, crossing my legs to get as comfortable as I could. 
"What is it?"
	"There's going to be a mission," he began.  "I overheard the
Shelborn discussing it with Ravishol.  There is a Cylon base apparently
several light yahrens from here.  It would be a secton's journey.  They
want to destroy it in retaliation for Paka and Brennus."
	"Oh, lovely," I sighed.  "How soon?"
	"Within the next few days, perhaps by the end of the secton.  You'll
be noticing that more and more Shelborn will be arriving."
	"Just what I need."  I rubbed my forehead, wishing I could get rid
of my headache before it developed into the painful ones I had
experienced many times before.  "Thank you for telling me."
	Ser Five-Nine's estimate of new arrivals before the end of the
secton were right now.  Nearly eighty Shelborn were on the base, and I
knew that hundreds, even thousands, more were in ships above Bohunupas. 
They were all waiting.
	All the pilots on base, including my series, were put through
rigorous checks, and even our implants were checked and rechecked.  I
ended up with more headaches by the end of it, and sometimes I was
irritated to see that few of the clones got the pains that I did.
	My headaches grew worse as the atmosphere grew more tense.  Siap and
I, along with a few other teams, were summoned to meet with the Shelborn
representative who dealt with weapons and ships.  His name was Talwer,
and I immediately noticed that his body didn't have as much technology as
the others'.  He had pure white hair that gave him a wispy look, and if a
good breeze blew up, he'd be gone with the leaves, I was sure of it.
	He announced to us that we were selected to try the latest in
Shelborn flight technology, and we were to actually fly them into the
upcoming battle.  The way he told us about it, I had the impression that
they were simply more powerful than the old ones.  What he neglected to
tell us, and what I discovered the micron I was first connected to one,
was that the computer system was much more advanced and difficult to use.
	There was something about them that gave the impression that the
ship was fighting back.  If I were to move the ship at a certain speed,
angle and direction, the computer would analyze it with all the odds of
what might occur.  The computer was guessing the entire time what it
expected to find based on scanner readings, and it would feed it to me
through the implant.  Not only that, but if it felt that I wasn't doing
something right, it would correct me.
	Starbuck used to have a saying that I would scoff at, that "hot
pilots don't need any electronic felgercarb."  I used to argue that we
were aided by the technology to a certain point.  Although I did
sometimes prefer the way things used to be done before faster-than-light
travel and the new technologies that we used as pilots, I still couldn't
imagine myself going completely without them.  The result of being
spoiled by modern technology, I knew.  Still, I felt that all this was
going a little too far.
	I didn't have much choice.  My entire life for the remaining few
days on Bohunupas was spent training under the eyes of Talwer and a few
other Shelborn.  Ten, sometimes twelve centars were spent in the real
ships, trying to get used to the powerful computer system.  I spent too
much energy trying to fight it, and what an opponent it was.  It insisted
that I was wrong, while I was convinced that I was right.  It was a
wonder that one of us didn't end up with something shorted.  It was an
equal miracle that I didn't take something blunt to hit it with.
	"Why don't you just relax and let the computer help you?" Siap asked
me once, when I slumped in the control seat with my hands covering my
face.  Earlier that morning, we'd been told that another addition to the
cockpits were going to be added either that day or some time during the
next one.  I wasn't too thrilled with that, and the computer was
constantly second-guessing my moves.  I was ready to use every single
swear in my limited repertoire against everything.  "It's there to help
you."
	"Yeah," I snorted.  "It's there to help me go completely insane. 
There had to be a way to get through it so I can do what I need to do."
	He gave me a look that I knew would have been too familiar to
Starbuck.  "That's against regulations, and you know that, Quintap."
	"My name is Apollo, Siap," I corrected him automatically.  I didn't
bother with the others in the series, but it was important with Siap.  I
didn't want him to call me something that I might not respond to in an
emergency.  "Apollo."
	"Of course."  He went back to examining the control panel.  Copilots
had the luck -- or misfortune -- of not only being connected to their
computer, but to the piloting console, and ultimately to the pilot
himself or herself.  It helped when the pilots were of like minds, or at
least reacted similarly.  Better yet, actually liked each other.  At
least we fell under that category.
	I shook my head before disconnecting myself; I'd had enough for the
time being, although my stamina had certainly improved since the first
time I'd used the interface.  Siap didn't bother coming after me as I
left the ship.
	The new additions to our get-up came the next day, and they turned
out to be sensors that went on our hands.  They were supposed to help us
connect with the ship better, and to react with and manipulate the
holographic displays.  Siap had no objects that he donned his, but I was
more than a little reluctant as I put them first on my right hand, then
my left.  They were snug against my skin, and there was no way I could
not be aware of them.  One more example of how we were expected to turn
into the Shelborn.
	Finally, we had a war room meeting, and all the pilots were called
into what had become a briefing room for the Shelborn and Ravishol. 
Klarc was there, still as the leader of the Shelborn; and this time
Talwer joined him.  Together, they presented the plan for the battle.
	We were going to leave in two days, head directly for the base.  Our
fighters would be joined by more, these being pilots by actual Shelborn. 
We'd then split into several different squadrons -- with me being the
leader of one of them -- and take out the individual targets we were
assigned.  Collectively, we were going up against two basestars and a
base, with odds that were definitely not favoring us.
	It was a suicide mission.  Ravishol had put his life work into
creating all of us clones so we could perish in one strike.  The other
clones were upset about the situation, wondering if they should confront
Ravishol, or even leave.  I stayed out of the way, as uncertain as they
were about the future.
	The night before the mission, I spent a few centars at my spring,
just trying to figure things out one more time.  Now, more than ever, I
failed.  I let myself think of the Galactica and all the missions I'd
embarked upon then.  Many of them were certainly classified as suicide,
but back then, there was always something to return home to.  Boxey,
Sheba, my father and Athena.  Starbuck and Boomer, and my other friends. 
Here, all I would come back to was more dead-end missions.
	Ser Five-Nine said his good-byes to me, too.  He was staying behind
with a few of the older clones to be with Ravishol, who was upset that so
much of his work was going to be destroyed in one battle.  None of them
knew what would happen if this strike failed.  Maybe they didn't want to
think about it at all.
	Before long, we were in the air, and headed toward the site of the
mission.  I think it was the longest secton I ever experienced, since
none of the clones on the ship I was traveling aboard dared to talk. 
They were petrified about what was to come, and I didn't blame them. 
Even animals knew when they were about to go for slaughter.
	Just like the Shelborn had said, the basestars were there above the
base.  We were supposed to expect upward of one thousand Cylon Raiders to
emerge from those launching bays, and they'd meet our force of four
hundred a fair distance away.  The larger Shelborn ships would advance
and open fire on Cylon bases.
	Even the best planned plans don't work out, and this one certainly
didn't.  Before ten centons had passed, the Raiders had plowed through
two of our squadrons.  Apparently the so-called superior Shelborn
technology wasn't as superior as they thought it would be; perhaps their
rabid plans to keep their information from Cylon hands just wasn't
working anymore.
	Siap and I did our best to fight and remain alive.  It was
difficult, especially with those stupid new hand sensors, combined with
the new computers.  I was rapidly losing my stamina, and it wouldn't be
long before I needed to stop and rest.  But rest where?  The Cylons were
all over the place.
	Midway through the battle, Unoap and Segundap's ship exploded,
taking several Cylons with them.  Before we even had a chance to recover
from that, I spotted Tercerap's ship exploding several microns after the
first.  Like morbid fireworks, our ships were being destroyed as the
Cylons descended upon them like hungry locustons.
	We were finally hit toward the end of the battle.  The first blast
from the Cylon we couldn't evade shorted out a few systems, but we could
still fly.  Siap was madly trying to get the lasers to work and fire in
their direction, while I was trying to lose the Raider.  Our activity was
attracting more unwanted attention, and before long, we were completely
surrounded by Cylons.
	"Felgercarb!" Siap yelled as he fired at one Raider, only to have it
replaced by two more.  He didn't stop firing, but it didn't take long for
the lasers to start overheating.  "Apollo, is there anything we can do?"
	I glanced about me, the holographic display telling me that there
wasn't much left of the Shelborn fleet.  Only ten percent remained, and
most of those were in flames.  There was no way we'd be able to get
shelter in that direction, but it was entirely possible for us to find
another location.
	The planet.  It was compatible with humans, and there were plenty of
areas where we could set down.  Or crash-land, if necessary.  That
probably was what we were going to have to do, I realized, as we were hit
by yet another blast.  Most systems shorted out, but so far, our implants
were safe.
	"Keep on firing at them," I told him.  "We're going down to the
planet.  Clear a path for us while we go, but don't let them shoot us
from behind."
	The micron we moved, the Cylons seemed rather surprised, but they
recovered quickly to take after us.  They were determined not to see us
go, and they began to fire massive barrages of lasers at our bow.  Most
of them hit, and before long, the computer warned us that an overload was
in progress.
	With jerky motions, Siap began to disconnect himself from the
computer.  As he nearly ripped off the hand sensors, he looked at me with
panic in his eyes.  "Apollo, take them off!  Now!"
	"Just a centon!"  I was too intent on piloting the ship toward the
planet.  The display was telling that it had everything I could hope for
to help us lose our unwanted company.  With as much concentration as I
could muster, I waited until we were in the atmosphere before dropping
down toward the surface.
	"What in Hades are you doing?!" Siap yelled as the ship got caught
in some heavy gusts of wind while we started to travel through the large
clouds that were covering much of the surface.  "We'll kill ourselves!"
	"Not if I get my way," I said, and we finally emerged through the
bottom of the clouds.  There wasn't much light, but I could see enough to
know that not so far off in the distance was a mountain range.  "We're
going to have some fun, Siap!"
	He was glancing at the displays that still showed that we were in
for an overload, but something -- prayers, perhaps -- was preventing it
from happening at that centon.  I added another word of intercession,
hoping that it wouldn't go off until we lost our pursuit so we could deal
with it without any interruptions.
	The mountains were coming toward us at a startling speed, but the
four Cylon ships were sticking to our tail as though nothing could ever
shake them.  As soon as we reached the foothills, I brought our fighter
just so that we brushed over the tops by a few metrons.  I could feel
Siap's terror next to me, but I had to ignore it.  I did have some
empathy, though.  I would be ditching out of the nearest hatch myself if
someone were doing this to me.
	We dodged around the peaks when we reached them, ducking down into
the valleys in what had to be the oldest and most desperate method in the
handbook of piloting.  The Cylons were doing a good job keeping up with
us, though at least one of them was increasing the distance between us.
	We played rodentia and felinos for the next few centons, going
deeper and deeper into the mountains.  Even though I was concentrating
like I never had before with this system, I was sort of enjoying myself. 
Kobol knew, I'd probably never do this again.
	The largest mountain yet appeared in front of us, bigger than
anything I'd ever seen before in my life.  It loomed ahead of us, and I
could hear Siap's breath catching in his throat as we approached it.
	"Now or never," I said, as we flew directly toward it.  The Cylons
were still following us.  I started to count down the time before our
imminent collision, wondering if the Cylons were going to take the bait. 
It looked like they would.  When I got down to the last five microns, I
prepared to do our evasive maneuvers.  "Five!  Four!  Three!  Now!"
	With barely anytime to spare, I pulled the fighter into a tight
curve, barely missing the mountain's bulk.  The Cylons proved their
intergalactic reputation as dim-witted opponents as all four ships
crashed into the mountain, causing a huge explosion.
	"You did it, Apollo!" Siap shouted, looking completely ecstatic as I
pointed the ship toward the foothills.  The overload alarm that hadn't
turned off yet suddenly started blinking madly.  Siap jumped and looked
at me in horror.  "Take the implants off, quickly!"
	He reached forward to help me when the overload occurred.  A surge
of energy blasted through the pilot's section of the cockpit and up
through the connection into my body.  I screamed at the sudden burst of
agony that coursed through my entire body, then everything went dark in a
haze of unbelievable heat.
	I had no idea how long I was out; to tell the truth, I was utterly
surprised to find that I was still alive.  Painfully, I opened my eyes to
be greeted by the sight of Siap's worried face looking at me.
	"Thank Kobol," he sighed.  "I was worried about whether or not you'd
be coming out of it.  How are you feeling?"
	I groaned, not quite wanting to speak.  In fact, going unconscious
again was a rather enticing possibility.  My body was paining in ways I'd
never imagined it could do, but not as badly as my head.  It felt like
someone had taken a hot poker and slammed it directly through my head.
	"That bad?"  Siap stood and paced.  The thought entered my foggy
brain that he had no idea what he was doing, and none of the clones had
been taught first aid.  I felt even worse at the thought.  "Well, we
crashed."
	"Where?" I croaked, my throat dry.  "Siap, is there any water?"
	"Oh!"  He looked at me, startled then embarrassed.  "Yeah, there's a
spring just near us.  I'll go get some."
	After he left, I turned my head as far as I could to get a look at
where we were.  Siap had placed me in a cave, but what I was curious
about was where exactly we'd crashed.  He probably had to carry me here. 
Beyond the mouth of the cave was a fairly dense forest.  I briefly
wondered if he'd dropped me while going through.
	"Here you go."  There wasn't a cup, but he'd taken out some of the
extra lining of his shirt to use as a rag.  He placed it next to my
mouth, and after I had enough water, he smiled slightly.  "Okay, now your
other questions.  We crashed in the foothills, about fifteen centons from
here."
	"Any idea how the battle turned out?" I asked.  I was feeling a
little better, so I ventured to sit up.  Siap helped me into a sitting
position.  Now that my thirst was gone, I wondered if we could do
anything about my head.
	"I think the fleet was completely destroyed," he said.  "Even if
they weren't, no one would come for us.  From what I could guess, the
Cylon base is on the other side of the planet.  We're stuck, I guess."
	"Stuck..." I repeated, looking at the face that was identical to
mine.  My gaze went up to his implant, then I looked away as a sudden
thought came to me.  If we were stuck, and both our ship and the fleet
destroyed, what would become of us?  I remembered what Ser Five-Nine and
Ravishol had told me about the implants, how they would become unstable
after a certain period of time.  What were we going to do?  How much time
did we have left?  "Well, we'd better start trying to fix something for
ourselves."
	"Like what?  We're unarmed, we have no supplies.  We have absolutely
nothing."
	The clones weren't taught survival skills either.  I groaned again,
and I idly realized that I was probably scaring Siap with all these extra
moans.  Smiling slightly, I very carefully tried to get to my feet, and
eventually succeeded.  "I guess that food would be a start.  I wish we
had a scanner with us, though, that way we could tell what's edible or
not."
	"I suppose."
	And so we tried.  Food wasn't hard to find, as it turned out.  My
brain was still foggy, but Siap was sharp enough to realize that some of
the foods were very familiar.  The Shelborn had brought products for us
at all three of our bases that were identical to these.  That led me to
speculate that this world once belonged to the Shelborn, and that they'd
lost it to the Cylons a while before.
	Our first day passed quietly after we found our food.  We retreated
to the cave when a storm blew overhead, and all we could hear was the
crash of thunder and the pounding of the rain outside.  Siap had at least
found us a cave that both didn't have any non-human inhabitants, and it
was keeping us dry from the storm.
	The next morning, I could see that something was wrong with Siap. 
He had a drawn look about him that hadn't been there when I'd first woken
up the day before.  Proving that he was one of the family, he refused to
say what was wrong, but I know that something was happening.  By evening,
he eventually sat down heavily in the cave, his head in hands.
	"What's wrong?" I asked for what must have been the fifteenth time. 
My own head was still aching from the shock I'd taken; thankfully the
throbbing was going down slowly but surely.  I was more worried about
Siap, especially as Ser Five-Nine's words came back to haunt me.  "Do you
have a headache?"
	His nod was so slight that I barely noticed it.  "It's getting worse
by the centar."
	The implant's self-destruct mechanism was at work.  I knelt next to
him, uncertain of what I should say.  "You're going to be fine, Siap. 
Just rest."
	We had to get out of there.  Even though these aneurysms were
supposed to take only five centons, chances were that the shock I
received, and probably Siap to a lesser extent, were slowing things down. 
Who knew if mine would develop, and maybe if we could get some help for
Siap, he would survive.
	But where would we find that help?  The Cylons wouldn't be any help,
and our side was demolished in this star system.  There was nothing I
could do but stay at his side, hoping that he would last.
	He didn't.  His condition grew worse during the night, and by
mid-morning, he was losing all sensation in one side of his body.  I went
out to the spring to get some water, and by the time I returned, he had
slipped away.
	I was alone again, and as I sat in our cave, I didn't know what to
do.  I was stranded on a planet occupied by Cylons, most likely the only
sentient organic life form on the entire globe, and there was nothing to
do.
	Or was there?  There was the base, but how in Hades was I going to
get there?  What if there was an ocean between us?  Kobol help me if I
had to pass that through the heart of the mountain range where we outflew
the Raiders.  I'd probably freeze to death the first night, knowing what
treacherous weather could take place among the peaks.
	As twilight started to descend on us, I stood at the mouth of the
cave, looking out at the still forest.  There were no animals stirring at
that centon, almost as though a storm were about to descend on us again,
but the skies were clear.  The stars were especially bright on this
planet, and as I looked up, leaning against the rocks, I saw a meteor
shower begin.
	"That's an inspiring sight," I sighed, speaking to the only being I
knew who could hear me.  "How's that going to help me, though?  I'm stuck
on this rock.  If it weren't for you, putting me in this entire
situation, I wouldn't be here.  What's the point of all this, huh?"
	The answer came by way of the meteors starting to descend toward the
foothills, or more specifically, my part of the foothills.  They were
moving at a tremendous speed, growing larger and larger until they
suddenly stopped, hovering at the same height as the mountains.
	Ships.  Two medium-sized ships.  More specifically, two medium-sized
Shelborn ships.
	I watched as they landed not that far away, and I took off toward
them.  Rescue!  I never thought I would be happy to see those strange
beings who had such an effect on my life during these past sectars, but
here I was.
	And there they were.  Our fighter's crash had been in a clearing,
and the Shelborn had landed around it.  Six people emerged, none of them
clones from Bohunupas.  They gathered about our wreck, with two of them
entering inside only emerge a few microns later.
	I couldn't understand what they were saying, since they were using
their own language rather than Colonial Standard.  The lilting language,
as smooth and aesthetic as their augmented bodies, filtered through the
area, accompanied by the occasional hand gesture.
	The scene was jarred by all of them taking out their weapons, with
two of them firing on the fighter to incinerate it.  There wasn't even an
explosion or a fire.  The ship just disappeared.  The others were
searching around the wreck, looking for something.  One cried out in
triumph, pointing at the ground, then the group headed off into the
forest... in my direction.
	I felt my body break out into a cold sweat.  They knew that Siap and
I had survived the crash, and that we'd made it out without having our
implants go off, the way Siap's did earlier.  And that meant that they'd
be looking for me.
	Trying to walk as carefully as I could, I followed them back to the
cave.  Two Shelborn stood watch on the outside while the other two went
inside.  They brought back Siap's body nearly a centon later, and laid
him on the ground outside.  The smallest Shelborn -- though still taller
than me -- reached down to touch Siap's head, and to my horror, his hand
came back up with his implant in hand.  There was now a hole in Siap's
head, which was beginning to bleed slightly.  They then burned his body
the same way they had with the fighter.
	Feeling sick to my stomach, I turned away from the scene and went as
quickly as I could.  I had to get away from them.  They weren't here to
rescue any possible survivors.  They were finished with us, and they were
going to get rid of me as soon as they got hold of me.
	That was something I would not let them do.  I would prefer to live
as a wild man on a backwater planet than die a useless death like this. 
At least being marooned would give me the hope of someday getting off
this world.
	The trees in this area were very large, with trunks that were
metrons wide.  I found one that I could climb about ten centons after
leaving the cave's vicinity, as far as I dared in the dark.  With
unsteady hands, I grasped the branches as I climbed up into the canopy,
eventually finding a fork between two branches that would fit me.  Taking
a deep breath, I listened as carefully as I could.  The night life was
beginning to emerge, but other than the nocturnal fauna, I couldn't hear
anything else.
	I had a fitful night's sleep, dreaming of other times I'd been in
danger in my life.  The most disturbing one was dreaming about Count
Iblis, and how he'd almost taken Sheba away from me.  I dreamed that he
had succeeded in killing Starbuck instead of me, and that he was about to
take Sheba's life, too.  His handsomely smiling face was directly in
front of me, then the expression faded into nothing, but his eyes
remained.  Those two pools of evil that glinted out at me, then the color
in his entire face faded to a light grey, and his eyes, while still
retaining that look, turned into a very dark shade of grey.
	I gasped, bolting awake as the face continued to hang in front of me
in my mind's eye, staring at me.  Instead of that world where we'd first
encountered Iblis, the background was here, in this forest.
	Shivering, I listened for the Shelborn, and this time, I did hear
them.  They weren't the most quiet trackers, but at least they were
unwittingly giving me the information I needed to get the frak out of
there.  I climbed carefully out of the tree, wincing at my sore muscles. 
It was just past dawn, but I could still see enough to make my way to
where I was supposed to go.
	Crouching down and hiding in the underbrush, I made my way opposite
to where the Shelborn were.  Or I thought I was.  They were advancing
from a different angle, and I soon saw one standing a few dozen metrons
away from me, apparently unaware of my presence.  At least I hoped he
was.  Even with my one implant, I could sense things that were
approaching from metrons away.
	Moving backward, I was making good progress away from him when I
felt my foot connect with something on the ground that wasn't going to
move.  Trying not to cry out in surprise, I landed in a heap behind the
half-buried root with a thump.  I don't think I ever prayed as much as I
did when I froze, hoping that they didn't hear it.
	Someone up there really didn't like me that much that day.  No
sooner had my rear end connected with the ground did the Shelborn's head
whip around in my direction.  With a shout, he started running toward me. 
I scrambled up, and with a silent word of thanks that my ankle wasn't
injured -- maybe they liked me enough to give me a slight chance -- and
started running like mad away from him.
	Branches whipped by me, catching my hair and hitting my face,
especially when I deliberately ran through some of the denser parts of
the forest.  I wanted to lose the Shelborn, but one thing he definitely
wasn't was a Cylon.  He could run almost as fast as I could, and his
implants weren't slowing him down.  He also had the advantage of not
having been stunned the day before by a severe electrical shock and
spending the night accompanied by nightmares.
	I swore when I saw a second Shelborn coming toward me from the
right, so I veered off to the left.  Even though my body was screaming at
me, telling me that I was insane and stupid, I ignored it as I kept on
running.  My brain wasn't thinking as much as I was just reacting, using
instinct and what little advantage my enhanced senses could give me.
	Enhanced or not, I never sensed the hurtling object that collided
with my back.  I went down in a heap, landing hard on my front.  The
debris on the forest floor scratched my face as I lay still, then started
to move, trying to get up to run again.  The micron I budged, I felt my
arms being grasped and pulled behind my back in a very painful position. 
I gasped as my wrists were tied together, then I actually cried out as I
was jerked to my feet by two of my captors.
	"Very impressive," he said, using Colonial Standard as he looked me
over.  I must have been quite the sight to behold, but he didn't seem to
mind that.  "What is your designation?"
	I didn't want to speak, so I didn't.  Instead, I stared defiantly at
him.  One of the Shelborn that held onto me shook me hard.  "Speak,
clone."
	"Series Apollo, culture five," I finally replied.  Why not, I had
nothing to lose.  This was more or less like giving name, rank and serial
number.
	"Very well, series Apollo, culture five," he told me.  "You will
come with us.  You may walk if you wish, or if you proceed to struggle,
we will have to stun you.  It will not be pleasant."
	Having had enough things happen to my body for today, I nodded
slightly.  "I'll walk."
	The four of us started to make our way back to the ships.  I hadn't
realized that I'd made it that deep into the forest, but it was taking a
long time to return by foot.  We'd been walking for fifteen centons when
we heard the sound of lasers being fired directly ahead of us.  The
Shelborn spoke in their own language, but they used one word that was all
too familiar to me.
	Cylons.
	Two of the Shelborn ran ahead, leaving us to follow them.  We
approached the clearing to discover that the Cylons had decided to make
an appearance at the scene, and they had engaged the remaining Shelborn
with a battle.
	Once again, the Shelborn were losing.  There was already one dead on
the ground, and even though they had destroyed three centurions, that
meant that more than ten were left.  Things were not looking good.
	My sole captor pushed me down to the ground, ordering me to stay
where I was as he joined in the laser battle.  I just didn't feel like
listening to anyone other than myself that day -- and even then only
rarely to what I had to say -- so I struggled to my knees, and finally to
my feet.  I was getting out of there.
	Without even taking three steps, there were explosions around my
feet.  I whirled around to see that one of the Cylons had decided to take
aim at me, but before he could take the shot that would actually be on
target, he was destroyed by a Shelborn.  I decided to start running
again, but the Shelborn then fired at me.  I felt a burning sensation
first in my leg, then on my shoulder.  Darkness started invading my
vision from all angles as I fell down to my knees, then forward again
onto my face as I lost consciousness.
	I groaned as I woke up, this time on a metal deck, with my hands
still tied behind me.  Blinking a few times to clear my sight, I first
spotted a boot, which was connected to a leg, and the further up my eyes
traveled, the more I realized that it was a Shelborn who was still
unconscious.  He and I were the only beings in the room.
	It wasn't long before I heard footsteps.  They were heavy, very
unlike the light ones that were the trademark of the Shelborn.  My pulse
sped up as I realized that it was a Cylon.  As for our exact location, I
had no idea where we were.
	Two centurions entered, and one of them hauled me to my feet, while
the other gathered the Shelborn up to sling over his shoulder.  We were
brought to a large area, and I realized that we were still on the planet,
but only now, we were at the Cylon base.
	An I.L. series Cylon met our group in the area.  He seemed to study
me first, and I knew that I must have been a wonderful sight.  Those two
red eyes that moved back and forth then were turned to the Shelborn, who
was now returning to the world of consciousness.
	"What a wonderful find," the I.L. said.  "A Shelborn warrior, and a
human with augmented implants?  Very interesting.  I think our leaders
would be most pleased with this development.  Clean them up -- or at
least the human, then bring them back to me."
	We were dragged out again, and I was brought to some kind of
sanitary station -- or as close to a sanitary station as you could get on
a Cylon base.  My arms were released before I was left alone.  There was
a mirror there, and I wasn't sure that it was really me that I saw in the
mirror.  My face was dirty, smeared with blood in some places, and I had
two days' worth of stubble on my cheeks and chin.  Well, at least I could
get rid of the dirt, but I'd still look scruffy.  I washed my face and
tried to make my hair look semi-normal, but I still looked like someone
who'd been stuck in a forest for two days after a harrowing experience in
battle.
	The rest of my body was relatively intact.  Although I was covered
in bruises and some scratches, I wasn't injured from where the Shelborn
weapon had hit me, other than having two tender pink spots on my upper
right arm and left thigh.  I put my clothes back on, trying to smooth
them out as best as I could, then reluctantly returned to the Cylon.
	The I.L. was still waiting for us, and if he'd been human, I'm sure
he would have nodded.  The Shelborn was back, too, looking not that much
different other than he was more aware of what was going on.  He looked
frightened.
	"You Shelborn are such a very stubborn people," the I.L. chided.  "I
will have to begin with you, since you will probably terminate as soon as
you can, unless we can do something about those implants of yours.  As
for you, human."  He turned to face me, and I shivered as I waited for
what he would say.  "You can wait for a time, if I place you in a cold
cell.  My scanners show that you are out of danger for the time being, so
you will wait there until it is time for your interrogation."
	Interrogation and a cold cell; what a choice.  I fought with the
centurions that suddenly closed in around me, determined to get out of
there.  I didn't want to be interrogated.  I didn't want the cold cell,
but having been knocked unconscious twice in the same number of days, I
wasn't much of an opponent when I tried to struggle.  I was dragged out
of the room at the same micron the I.L. began on the Shelborn.
	I stared at the cold cell as I was brought in front of it.  Its
entrance was opaque, and I could feel the chill radiating from it from
where I was standing.  I was trembling, but I didn't know if it was from
fear, or the cold, or both.  Soon, it was definitely the cold as I was
placed inside it, my body and mind numbing down to nothing.
	I might have been there only for centars, or I might have been in
there for days.  There was no way to keep track of time, even if I had
been able to.  It was just a daze, where I wasn't even conscious of
anything.  I just drifted in an ocean of blissful nothing, until I was
jerked back to awareness as my body suddenly felt like it was burning.
	The sensation didn't last long, but what did last for an
indeterminable amount of time was the feeling an extreme disorientation. 
I barely remembered who I was, not to mention what had been happening for
the past several sectars of my life.  My body was also completely
unwilling to cooperate, and I had to be carried to the intended
destination.
	My first coherent thoughts told me that I was looking at an I.L. 
I'd seen one earlier, right?  As I was set down into a chair, then
secured to it, the Cylon seemed to stare right at me in a way that
penetrated to the core of my being.  I tried to shake off the fog the
cold cell had left behind in my head as I waited for it to speak.
	"I am afraid that we will have to study you for a few microns," the
I.L. said, almost apologetically as something was attached to my implant. 
I didn't have to energy to resist, and felt a coolness in my head as the
monitors in the wall started to flash with an analysis.
	As the scan continued, I looked about the room, and spotted the
Shelborn in a chair that was similar to mine.  He was sitting very still,
and judging by what had happened to Siap the day before, I could tell
that the self-destruct mechanisms in his implants had been delayed, but
they were still at work.  His grey eyes met my gaze, and he held it until
the Cylon broke it by stepping in between us.
	"Your implant is only working at twenty percent efficiency," the
I.L. announced.  "It appears that it was damaged somehow.  However, since
it is a variant of Cylon technology, we should be able to repair most of
the functions in time."
	My words were slurred slightly as I spoke.  "What... what do you
mean by a variant of Cylon technology?"
	I heard a weak shuffling from behind the Cylon, telling me that the
Shelborn was struggling against his restraints in an effort to get free. 
The I.L. ignored him as he continued.
	"It is very simple.  We, as Cylons, are always on the lookout for
potentially compatible species, either physically or ideologically. 
Although the Shelborn are humanoids, they were moving on the same
technological path that we had embarked upon several centuries before. 
They welcomed our aid in advancing the implant technology that they had
been experimenting in."
	"Only a few were," the Shelborn spoke, his voice little more than a
harsh whisper.  The I.L. moved so I could see him as he spoke.  "Your
people came, Spectre, and convinced our leaders to develop the implants
so that everyone on our planet could have them."
	"Perhaps so, but was the result not simply astounding?"  There was
note of wonder in the Cylon's voice.  "Within a yahren, the Shelborn
society was one to admire.  No crime, no conflict, very few illnesses,
and --"
	"No freedom," the Shelborn finished.  "Of course, we didn't realize
it until we were firmly in the grasp of the technology, and after we were
under your so-called 'care.'  We were an innocent race, taken under your
protection, and turned against the goodness in ourselves."
	"They were our children," Spectre continued.
	"They were our captors," the Shelborn spat.
	"We could have worked in cooperation and had the universe together." 
The Cylon paused, then turned to face me as he motioned to the
centurions.  "You humans believe that we designed our warriors after your
physical forms, only larger and stronger than you.  That is very
incorrect.  We designed them after the Shelborn, because although you
humans are very versatile, you are weak in the end."
	"But still in control of your own destiny," the Shelborn finished. 
"We finally became aware of our flight perhaps twenty yahrens ago.  At
first, it was only a group of individuals, but the knowledge spread to
other members of our society, eventually until we united as one and
started to fight the Cylons for our independence."
	"And so you started a battle that you were going to lose," I added.
	"Perhaps we aren't going to win in my lifetime, but we are making an
impact."  The Shelborn smiled, and his grey eyes took on a sparkle of
life that hadn't been there before.  "Why else would the Cylons be
putting so much emphasis on crushing us if we weren't a nuisance to
them?"
	Just like the Galactica's fleet had in the yahrens before I had
died.  I wondered what had become of them, how they were faring against
the Cylons.  Any thoughts of my former home were interrupted as Spectre
moved forward to check the scans attached to my implant.  I had a
headache building again, and that was the last thing I wanted while being
a Cylon captive.  I had enough to deal with the effects of the cold cell
without my implant getting in the way.
	"I will start the rejuvenation process with the implant, restoring
some of the sensory inputs," he said, as the output on the scanner screen
changed.  I couldn't tell what it meant, but then again, I didn't think I
wanted to know.  "You will remain here for the time being."
	With that final statement, Spectre left the two of us restrained in
the chairs, as the lighting in the room dimmed.  I waited for my eyes to
adjust to the lowered illumination, while at the same time groaning
silently.  I was getting hungry and I was definitely thirsty -- I
couldn't even remember the last time I'd eaten.  My stay in the cold cell
had distorted all sense of time for me.
	The Shelborn didn't speak to me, preferring instead to stare at me
intently.  His gaze was bothering me, and I tried to avoid that grey-eyed
stare by focusing instead on thoughts of escape.  If my implant was
damaged, then that meant that I didn't really have to worry about the
effects of it, right?  I wouldn't suffer the same fate as Siap, so why
would I want it to be repaired as the I.L. said it would be?
	The only question was how to escape.  I wasn't sure if this was the
base on the planet, or if it were one of the basestars that had been
present at the battle.  I was leaning toward the base theory, which meant
that I had to find way out of here.  I'd only been to three Cylon bases
before, including the ones on Gamoray, Arcta and a third on a planet
named Ogoun.  Each had almost identical layouts, with a main base with a
landing field on the outskirts.  Surely this base had to be the same.
	Knowing my luck, though, it probably wasn't.  I couldn't think of
any other alternative routes other than going straight to the field; I
wasn't in any shape to think of other means, anyway.  My headache was
increasing to the point where even thinking was difficult.  I closed my
eyes, and I lost all awareness.
	I heard a voice call to me, and in my subconscious, I dreamed that
it was Starbuck.  We were back on the planet where my Viper had crashed,
and he was looking for me.  Only this time, I was buried underneath the
rubble my Viper had created.  Starbuck called and searched, but he
couldn't hear my cry.  I had tears running down my cheeks in hopelessness
as I heard him swear, then leave.  I couldn't stand it any longer as I
heard his ship launch in the distance; I yelled in complete frustration.
	I must have yelled out loud, because I was jarred back to reality by
the Shelborn's voice.  He was staring at me again, this time in anger. 
"You stupid clone.  Be quiet, for Leshem's sake!  Do you want to draw
more attention to us than we're already going to get?"
	"I'm sorry," I mumbled.  "Uh, who is Leshem?"
	"Our commander, or as the Cylons would call him, a traitor.  He is
the one who overthrew Dormen, the puppet the Cylons appointed as our last
leader."  The Shelborn sighed.  "Leshem is the one in whose name we
fight.  The Cylons executed him more than fifteen yahrens ago, when we
started our war."
	"Oh."  I waited for a few microns, then decided to make some more
conversation.  My head wasn't hurting anymore, so I assumed that
implant's rejuvenation had ceased for the time being.  "What's your
name?"
	He stared at me for a few microns, then carefully said, "Chamiel. 
Before I was captured trying to apprehend you, I was Klarc's chief
commander."
	"I'm Apollo," I returned, and I had to smile when I saw the confused
expression on the Shelborn's face.  "Yes, I know that I'm Quintap, or
series Apollo, culture five; but I... identify more with Apollo than the
other names."
	"Very well, Apollo.  Do you realize what will become of us now?"  He
grimaced as I nodded.  It was no secret, but he decided to elaborate
anyway.  "We will be interrogated until we reveal everything we know
about the remaining defenses of our fleet and forces, and most likely
destroy Bohunupas, as well."
	"I don't know that much about anything," I told him.  "Klarc seemed
to have a way of filtering information to us through Ravishol that didn't
offer much enlightenment."
	"But I know too much," he sighed, and it was a sentiment that I
could very easily identify with.  When I used to be flight commander on
the Galactica, I'd have the occasional nightmare where I had been
captured by the Cylons to be faced with interrogation.  I would wake up
and lie awake for centars, wondering what I would do if that occurred. 
It would only take one slip from me to completely destroy everything my
father had worked for in bringing the fleet toward the safety he hoped
was at Earth.  At least now, the Cylons wouldn't know that I was the same
Apollo who had been aboard the Galactica, and undoubtedly mentioned in
various interrogations and intelligence reports.
	"We could always escape," I offered.  Well, that was all and well,
but how?  I tested my restraints, finding that I couldn't budge my arms
or legs from the chair.  "Providing we find a way out, though.  Getting a
ship would be easy.  It's getting out here that's hard."
	"Impossible," Chamiel replied.  "We can't escape, no matter how hard
we try.  I just pray that our implants completely terminate us before the
Cylons get a chance to begin their interrogations.  I never believed that
the Cylons would be able to figure out our technology that easily."
	"They have their ways of discovering things, either legitimately
finding it, or stealing it or getting it from a traitor."  I glanced over
at Chamiel.  "Maybe there's a traitor among your associates?"
	"Then may Leshem torment them for the eternities when they die," the
Shelborn sighed.  "And I'll join in for fun."
	Silence fell between us again, and lasted for the next two or three
centars.  Spectre finally came back into the room, this time with three
centurions.  By that time, Chamiel had begun to completely succumb to his
implants.  Two of them went to undo Chamiel's restraints to carry the
comatose Shelborn out of the room, which left me with the I.L. and his
escort.  Spectre was watching me carefully as my eyes followed Chamiel's
exit.
	"Tell me," he said, moving in front of me to block the doorway. 
"Are you for the Shelborn cause, or are you just an unwitting player in
this game they're playing with us?"
	"I support them in that I believe they should have their freedom,
along with every other race you've either tried to enslave or eliminate
over the millennia," I said truthfully.  "Otherwise, I was brought into
this without my consent."
	I had the feeling that if the I.L. had been human, he would have
nodded.  "I suspected as much.  Now, I must decide what to do with you. 
Unlike my contemporaries, especially our front-line commander, Baltar, I
will not terminate you.  I also cannot interrogate you, since my scans of
your implant tells me that you are not programmed with relevant
information, as such, you would not be given any such intelligence.  In
that area, you are useless."
	"But in which areas would I not be useless?" I asked.
	Spectre actually paused at that, and his voice held a
semi-apologetic tone that I was sure how to take.  "We have many colonies
-- prison worlds -- that could always use more workers.  It would be a
shame to waste your talents as a valuable fighter pilot, since it is
quite obvious that your implant is for that purpose.  You also survived
the battle when virtually no one else from your fleet did, and that
speaks volumes.  However, the Cylons long ago gave up the practice of
having organic life forms as pilots, since it was impractical."
	A prison colony.  Well, that wouldn't be that bad, I hoped.  At
least I wouldn't be tortured.  The preparations for the journey were to
begin immediately, and it was decided that I would be put into suspended
animation.  The ship didn't carry enough life support systems for the
duration of the journey, and the suspension would be more practical. 
Still strapped to the chair, I was injected with drugs that slowed down
my vital functions to the point where totally I lost awareness.
	I slowly came back to consciousness from a dreamless state, feeling
like I had when first waking up on Paka -- weak with no energy.  When I
managed to open my eyes, I discovered that I was still enclosed in the
life support chamber.  I'm not claustrophobic by nature, but it wasn't
hard to get that feeling as I tried to find a way out.  I pushed against
the door, finding that it wouldn't give.  I tried to push harder, but my
stamina wouldn't allow it.  I stopped to rest, breathing heavily as I
studied the transparent surface.
	Inspiration struck.  If I couldn't get through the door, then I'd
have to go through the door.  I took off my shirt, wincing at the chill
in the tube, and wrapped the material around my fist.  Taking a deep
breath, I punched the transparent surface of the container.
	Even with the fabric wrapped around my hand, the impact and the
subsequent shattering of the door sent agony up my arm, especially when
one jagged end sliced through the cloth and tore into my skin.  It missed
everything major, but I was still bleeding.  I cursed loudly as I reached
out with my uninjured hand to open the door.
	My first glance around the room told me that I wasn't on a Raider,
but some kind of transport ship.  There were other suspension chambers on
the walls, but they were empty.  Well, at least I was the only one being
transported, but what I wanted to know what had brought me out of
suspension early.  I knew it was early, because there weren't any Cylons
around to take me out properly -- whatever properly was supposed to be. 
It might have been a glitch in a system, or something else.   Either way,
it was an opportunity for me to try to escape.
	I relished the thought, and after checking my hand, which had more
or less stopped bleeding, I donned my shirt.  It wasn't as bloody as it
might have been, and I'd certainly seen worse, both on myself and on
others.  I carefully made my way out of the area, wondering what I would
find.
	It was cold out in the corridor, colder than the interior of the
suspended animation chamber -- but not as frigid as the cold cell.  Not
yet, anyway.  I shivered as I continued walking, having no idea about
where I was going.  Finally, I ended up at the front of ship, where the
cockpit was located.
	Something was wrong.  The door was jammed halfway open, and there
was smoke seeping out.  I slipped through the door, to discover chaos. 
The Cylons were lying in their seats, deactivated among the smoking
wreckage of consoles.  Looking out the cockpit, I saw a snow-covered
landscape stretch out in front of the ship.
	Landscape?  We must have been attacked and the ship subsequently
crashed.  Where were we, though?  In the middle of nowhere?  And what was
I supposed to do now?  Should I just stay in the shuttle, or go out and
try to find shelter?
	I decided to try to find shelter in the outdoors.  Maybe we were
close to civilization?  I help hopeful at that thought, and immediately
began searching for the exit hatch.  I didn't find it, but instead
discovered a breach in the hull large enough for me to go through.  I
found myself standing outside with snow up to my shins, and a cold wind
blowing across the barren landscape.
	There was nothing to be seen except for snow, rocks, and more snow.
	I heard a screaming sound from above, and when I looked up, I
spotted a trio of Raiders headed down to our smoking wreck.  I stared at
them in shock, then started running from the ship.  It didn't feel too
good, but it was keeping me warm.  I didn't dare look back to see if I
was being followed.
	But I was definitely being followed.  One Raider was following my
trail, and it was coming behind me.  Lasers fired around me, scoring and
vaporizing the snow around me.  The snow was getting deeper, and the
further I went, the terrain was getting more and more treacherous.
	I had to stop at one point.  The ground was forming ruts, and on my
right, a steep slope had appeared.  As I tried to catch my breath, the
Raider made another pass.  This time, the lasers went off a few metrons
from me, causing the ground to shake, and off I went, falling down into
the ravine.
	To put it lightly, the results of my fall hurt.  A lot.  I was
stunned for several centons, lying still long enough for the Cylon to fly
overhead, apparently satisfied that I appeared to be dead and no longer a
threat -- not that I was one to begin with.  I also lay still long enough
for the cold to begin to creep even more into my body.  By this point, my
fingers were numb, and the cold had seeped through my boots.  I would get
hypothermia, and even frostbite, if I didn't move.
	I wished I hadn't, because as soon as I tried to sit up, pain
blossomed up from my left leg.  I groaned as I leaned back to rest my
elbows in the snow.  I must have struck something while I was falling
down the slope.  What in Hades was I supposed to do now?
	Grimacing, I made it up to a sitting position, then looked about me
at the surrounding terrain.  At the base of the hill, there were little
depressions in the ground, and if I could only get over there, I might be
sheltered from the elements for the time being.  Taking a deep breath, I
did a hobble-crawl over the few metrons of snow, finally collapsing at
the base of the hill in agony.  As I rested, I felt the world beginning
to go dark again, and I didn't resist it as I fell into unconsciousness.
	I swear that I was dreaming when I opened my eyes centars later.  My
body was stiff, and I couldn't feel anything.  There was a sound around
me, like voices coming in and out of focus, but I couldn't catch any of
the words.  Everything was out of focus, but as I strained, the blurs
converged into faces.  The features weren't distinct, but I suddenly
wished that they were Sheba, Starbuck, Boomer, and my other friends from
the Galactica.  They could have been.  There was a blond, a brunette and
one even had dark skin like Boomer.  But it was all a dream... wasn't it?
	One of the faces leaned closer, and I could see that he was speaking
to me.  His lips moved to enunciate the words carefully, but I still
couldn't make them out.  Finally, he said one thing that I could make
out.
	Battlestar.
	I repeated it, and the face nodded.  He repeated it one more time,
and this time, I heard the name that followed the battlestar.  Pegasus. 
I nodded to show that I understood, then he asked one more thing.  I
could make out what he said, and it was, "What's your name?  Who are
you?"
	I smiled to myself, then with a voice that had more strength than I
actually possessed, I said, "My name is Apollo...  Captain Apollo of the
Battlestar Galactica."
	And then I fell unconscious again.

Part 7 - The state of monotony

	After the initial shock of Starbuck's arrival and the associated
surprises wore down, life on the Pegasus and her fleet settled into a
routine.  Starbuck still didn't feel at home on the ship, despite the
fact that Apollo was there to make the transition easier for him.  Even
if his best friend was with him, it was very unnerving for Starbuck to
see the Pegasus symbols all over the ship, and even on his uniform and
Viper helmet.
	"I wonder if Sheba ever had this much trouble adjusting?" he
wondered one evening when he and Apollo were in the Officers' Club,
having an ambrosa like they used to in the days before they were
separated.  Referring to Apollo as being killed just didn't sound right.
	"I think she did," Apollo answered, stretching in his chair like a
felino getting ready for a nap.  "It took her nearly a sectar before
she'd wear a Galactican Viper helmet."
	"My sectar's up now.  Maybe I'll get used to it any day now?" 
Taking a sip of his drink, Starbuck waited a few microns before making
his next statement.  "So, are you used to being referred to as a member
of Silver Spar Squadron?"
	"Not really."
	"And I'll bet that you're really not used to not being the squadron
leader."  Starbuck smiled slightly, shaking his head.  "I know that I'm
not.  I still keep on expecting you to give me orders while out on
patrol, but then I hear Hagan giving the commands.  It just doesn't seem
right..."
	"Well, I get the occasional patrol where I'm in charge, but I don't
really mind not being in command," came the reply, then a laugh.  Apollo
knew very well that Starbuck didn't believe him, and the lieutenant's
expression showed his skepticism.  "No, I'm serious.  I've got more time
for other things, like, well, stuff."
	"Oh, sure.  Apollo, you used to go nuts on the Galactica when you
didn't have anything to do.  I swear, if we brought you on furlon, you'd
be itching to get back to that frakking desk of yours where there was a
hoard of reports waiting."  Starbuck gave him a sympathetic look.  "I
knew how stressful it was for you, and that's why I always took a few
more extra days than necessary to get my stuff in."
	"And you were so kind, too," he retorted.  "And I had to return the
favor in kind by giving you more work to do."
	"And I really appreciated that."  Starbuck sighed.  "But I still
don't believe you, old buddy."
	"Fine, don't believe the truth."  Apollo gave him a sly grin. 
"Besides, I could always say that I'm too young now for command."
	"Oh, that's so funny, it's hurting my side with laughter," Starbuck
shot back, demonstrating what he meant.  He studied his friend's face,
noticing how he did look younger -- much younger -- than he should be. 
Instead of the forty yahrens that Starbuck was -- and they were about the
same age, too -- he didn't look a day older than perhaps twenty-three or
twenty-four.  "Then again, maybe you should grow up."
	Apollo laughed, then glanced at his chronometer.  "Well, only
eighteen more centars until we go for round three of the defense of the
battlestar's honor.  Are you up to it?"
	"Not again..." Starbuck groaned.  The Triad match between them and
the combined team of Barthel and Hagan had been replayed again two
sectons after the original.  That time, the honor had gone to the
Pegasus, and just the other day after a patrol, Hagan had approached
Starbuck to discuss a time when they could play again.  "We've created a
monster, Apollo.  I'm sort of glad we never did this back on the
Galactica with Bojay."
	There was a look about Apollo that showed that he really wouldn't
have minded having that opportunity.  "Maybe.  Anyway, we have to come up
with a new strategy.  The last time, I think we lost because we
underestimated how they were going to get the ball."
	"Uh huh.  Sure, buddy.  How was I supposed to know that they were
going to play dirty?"
	"It wasn't dirty, Starbuck.  It was just well planned, and we
weren't expecting it.  They must have practiced it several times and,"
Apollo held up his mug and inclined it in Starbuck's direction, "we
should be practicing, too.  At least once or twice a secton.  Maybe more,
if we can fit it in."
	"Oh, Lords of Kobol," Starbuck moaned.  "I still haven't recovered
from the last game.  My side was bruised for a secton."
	"Yeah, well, I was limping for the better part of two days.  And
that's not a good thing to have when you're visiting your mother."  A wry
smile came onto Apollo's lips.  "I remember one time when I was little,
there was a fight at my primary school, and I accidentally got involved. 
I think I had a split lip that time.  Mother was ready to go down there
to do battle, and when she saw my ankle this time, I think she was ready
to do it again.  Imagine my mother going up against Hagan?"
	"Oh, I can, old buddy.  I can."  Starbuck had to laugh as he
recalled the last war quorum they had attended, when the Council had done
their semi-regular questioning of Cain about how the voyage to the fleet
was doing, especially with the help -- or what little help -- Starbuck
had given them.  Ila had backed Commander Helen one hundred percent, even
going so far as to yelling at the Pegasus' commander in one heated moment
about how irresponsible he was being.  "But I think I find seeing her
going after Cain much more amusing."
	"Yeah, I do, too," Apollo said, smiling slightly.
	They heard two pairs of footsteps coming from across the room, one
running while the other was simply walking normally.  Both warriors
looked over to see Meve heading for their table at top speed, followed at
a distance by Poinciana.  The look on the woman's face was that of
someone who wished they could be anywhere but there at that centon.
	"Guess what?" Meve asked them as she climbed into the empty seat
next to Apollo.  The girl's face was beaming with excitement.  "You'll
never guess what happened!  It's so neat!"
	Apollo laughed.  "Well, if I'm never going to guess, then you'll
have to tell me."
	"Mommy just told me that the Heimdall have made contact!"  The girl
arranged herself in the chair so that she was kneeling on the cushion,
with her elbows leaning on the table.  "They're coming in the morning!"
	"Really?"  Apollo directed his look at Poinciana.  "When did they
call?"
	"They contacted Cain about two centars ago," she replied.  "They're
over in the next star system, and they're going to rendezvous with us
within ten centars.  Apparently they've got some new information for us."
	"New information?" Starbuck repeated.  "So that means there's going
to be a war quorum tomorrow?"
	"Not quite," Poinciana told him.  She was still standing and was
making Starbuck feel nervous.  "Cain gets the first go with the Heimdall,
and then when the information is received and looked over, it's taken to
the war quorum."
	"Ah, I see... I think."  He gave her a straight look.  "Are you
coming or going?  It's not a great sin to sit down once in a while to
enjoy yourself."
	He didn't notice the odd expression Apollo was giving him, but what
he did notice was the smile on Poinciana's face as she slipped into the
last empty chair.  When she wasn't being so uptight and let herself be
human, she was actually pretty.  It was a shame she didn't do it more
often.
	Watching her for a few microns, he noticed that she bore a slight
resemblance to Cassiopia.  It wasn't strong, other than both women having
blue eyes and blond hair, since Cassiopia had a more cherubic quality to
her, while Poinciana's face was longer and more angular.  He had to
wonder what had attracted Cain to the captain?  And in the same thought,
Cain to Cassiopia?  He knew from talking to Sheba that she had inherited
her looks from her mother, Bethany, meaning that she had the same brown
eyes and hair.  Maybe by choosing women who looked anything but like
Bethany, Cain was trying to fill the void she left with something new;
something he hadn't found yet.
	Meve was looking at him, her blue eyes wide and questioning.  Apollo
and Poinciana were talking about some squadron matters, which left
Starbuck to talk with the girl.  She really had several of her father's
features, but while they looked strong on Cain, they just had enough
roundness and softness on the seven yahren old's face to make her look
bucolic.
	"You've never seen a Heimdall?" she asked, and when Starbuck shook
his head, she grinned.  "They look so silly!"
	Both Poinciana and Apollo interrupted their conversation to look
over at her.  "Meve!"
	"They do so look silly!" she insisted.
	"Yes, but it's not polite to call other people silly," her mother
told her.
	"And maybe to them," Apollo added, "you look even sillier.  Remember
that."
	"Ah, just think of her as a biased anthropologist," Starbuck said,
grinning at the girl.  "She's just telling me about them.  Besides, I
learned from Boxey, Josce and Derdre that kids have the best way of
describing things, especially in ways adults would never consider."
	"Is he always like that?" Poinciana asked Apollo, who was shaking
his head.
	"Yeah, I'm afraid so.  Sometimes I wonder who's more the kid." 
Apollo smiled at his friend.  "But you have a point, though, buddy. 
Okay, Meve, tell us about the Heimdall."
	"They have funny ships, and I got to see inside of them," she said,
leaning forward onto her elbows.  "Lots of junk inside."
	"They're space traders," Poinciana quickly added.
	"They're about your guys' height, and they wear really funny
clothes.  Long, and lots of bright colors that don't match."  She cast a
look at her mother.  "If I wore something like that, Mommy wouldn't let
me go out.  She'd tell me to go back and put the right shirt on."
	It was Apollo's turn to comment on Meve's observations.  "The colors
have something to do with their stations.  The more it clashes, the
higher up they are."
	"And," Poinciana added, "they're color blind.  They don't see
colors, they see patterns.  Each pattern is a different color, so what
they see is just different types of patterns in the cloth.  It must be
fascinating to see."
	"But what about their hair?" Meve persisted.  "Why does it stick out
like that?"
	Starbuck raised an eyebrow.  "Stick out like what?"
	"Like..."  Meve jumped out of her chair to stand behind Apollo. 
Reaching up, she grabbed two handfuls of Apollo's dark hair and held them
at seemingly impossible angles that gravity would have otherwise brought
back down if it weren't for her tiny fists.  "Sort of like this."
	"Ah."  Starbuck admired Apollo's new look as Meve continued to hold
his hair until she was satisfied that the lieutenant knew exactly what
she meant.  She finally let go, and Apollo's hair returned to a mussed
version of its former form.  "Well, I guess that they're really advanced
in hair styling products, then?"
	"That's putting it lightly."  Apollo ran a hand through his hair,
but only succeeded in mussing it a little more.  "Imagine what we could
do with that technology if we got hold of it.  We could use it as some
kind of really special glue."
	"Oh, I have an even better purpose for it," Starbuck grinned. 
"Remember Sire Cocidius?  And that poor excuse of a hairpiece he used to
wear?"
	"Vaguely, yeah," Apollo nodded.
	"And remember how it would always slip in the middle of Council
meetings?"
	He was rewarded with a snort, which made both Poinciana and Meve
look at Apollo strangely.  "I remember him now!  He was in a middle of a
speech, using these really impassioned gestures, and suddenly his hair
piece fell down his forehead to the bridge of his nose!  I don't think
I've ever seen the Council get so silent at once, and my father didn't
know where to look!"
	Grinning at Apollo's reaction, Starbuck continued.  "Now, if we
could get the secret to these Heimdall's hair styling stuff, we could
patent it and making a killing back at the fleet.  I can see Cocidius
buying a ton of it!"
	"Ah, yes," Apollo grinned.
	"Fruit juice!" Meve interrupted, looking at Poinciana.  "Can I have
some fruit juice?"
	"Sure, honey," her mother replied.
	"Good!  Apollo, want to come with me?"  She motioned to the bar that
was across the room, then peered into the mug that was in front of him. 
"Besides, your drink is empty.  Maybe you want some more?"
	"No, I've had enough for today."  Apollo glanced over the other
adults.  "Do either of you want something?  A refill, Starbuck?  Or one
for you, Poinciana?"
	"I'm fine here," Starbuck told him.
	"No, thank you, Apollo," Poinciana smiled.
	"Come on!" Meve said impatiently, grabbing Apollo's hand to take him
away from the table.  Starbuck watched them walk off, then turned his
attention to Poinciana.
	Since his initial arrival, Starbuck had been trying to get a few
centons just with her so he could get to know her, but that always proved
to be impossible, especially since he was always in her company whenever
they were with others.  Maybe now he could get the answers to some of his
questions.
	"Well," he said, deciding to begin with a common thing between them. 
"Kids never slow down, do they?"
	Poinciana laughed as she settled back into her seat, her gaze on the
departing duo.  Starbuck wondered if she had her eyes set more on her
daughter, or on Apollo.  He smiled in anticipation of what he hoped would
come.
	"No, they don't," came the reply.  She brushed a few strands of her
blond hair off her forehead, then looked at Starbuck in interest.  Gone
was the look of disdain that she'd possessed when he'd first boarded the
ship, but she still had a sense of guarded detachment about her.  "Apollo
mentioned to me the other day that you have a daughter.  Isn't your wife
Cassiopia, Cain's old lover from before the battle at Molocay?"
	"Yes," Starbuck nodded, mentally adding that Cassie was also
Poinciana's predecessor.  His thoughts then turned to his daughter, and
the nagging pain that accompanied any though of her.  "And yes, again, I
have a daughter.  Her name is Derdre, and she's just a little older than
Meve, but close enough."
	"Do you have any pictures of her?"
	"No," he said regretfully.  Frak, why hadn't he carried any pictures
of her with him the day of the battle?  He usually carried one of
Cassiopia and Derdre with him for luck, but that day it had been in his
other jacket.  In the rush to get to his patrol on time, knowing that
Captain Boomer only tolerated so much tardiness, he'd forgotten to take
them with him.  It would be a long time before he saw either of them
again, he knew.  Cassiopia's image was easy to call up in his mind's eye,
but Derdre, having only just turned eight a sectar or two before he was
marooned, would be changing almost everyday.  Even so, he knew that she
had her mother's looks, and one day, she would be even more beautiful
than Cassiopia... providing she didn't get herself killed before she
reached adulthood.  Her personality, sometimes to the exasperation of her
mother, was all Starbuck's, including some of his less than stellar
aspects.
	"You must miss her."  Poinciana was still watching him carefully, a
sympathetic look on her face.  "I know that I would be missing Meve
terribly if I were separated from her.  Going on patrol is bad enough,
especially when they're deep probes."
	"I used to ask Apollo about that, how he could just go on missions
and leave Boxey behind.  Uh, you know about Boxey, right?"  He hated to
ask, but with the way Apollo hadn't mentioned Sheba to anyone left him no
choice but to double-check what people knew.  To his relief, she nodded. 
"Okay, good.  Well, he would say that he just had a very good reason to
make sure that he returned safely.  So now, I guess I have a good reason,
too, for wanting to go back to the Galactica."
	"Of course.  Tell me, how long have you known Apollo?" the captain
asked, and Starbuck tried not to grin.  He wasn't even going to have to
actively steer her in the direction of the questions he wanted answered. 
Perfect.  "I know it's been for a while, because you're obviously close
to him.  I haven't seen Apollo being this light-hearted for this long,
ever.  He usually has his moments of happiness, then he just sinks back
into a sense of self-pity.  Or a depression, even."
	"We've known each other since we were fifteen, so that would make it
nearly twenty-nine yahrens ago that we met."  Starbuck shook his head and
laughed.  "Wow, that's a long time.  We were two confused teenagers put
together by a lucky draw during one science class, and not only did we
get a high mark on our project, but we became friends.  I just seemed to
be able to figure him out, and he could do the same thing with me."
	"And you've been together ever since?"  Poinciana's eyes were wide
with interest.
	"Almost.  We went through the Academy together, but we were assigned
to different ships after graduation.  We tried to spend our furlons
together.  I was on the Galactica, while he first went on a deep probe
mission that I knew thrilled him to no end; then he was on the Poseidon
before it was destroyed, and finally back with me on the Galactica. 
Then, there's been the last nine yahrens..."
	"When you were still on the Galactica, and he was having his
adventures."  Her eyes shifted back to the bar, this time where Apollo
and Meve had settled on the stools and were discussing something there. 
The way Apollo reacted with the child reminded Starbuck of Boxey, and
then of Josce and his own Derdre.  He had to look away, feeling suddenly
melancholy.
	"Yeah, that's basically it.  He died, and I had to go back to the
Galactica and pretend that it had never happened.  I had to play the part
that Apollo was only missing and presumed dead, just to give hope to
everyone else.  The hope..."  Starbuck shook his head.  "It didn't last
long.  After a secton or two, with a no-show from Apollo, everyone just
accepted that he wasn't coming back.  Then the fun with Sheba started."
	Poinciana looked at him carefully after the mention of her friend. 
"What about Sheba?"
	"She has a nine yahren old son named Josce," he said, watching her
face for a reaction.  So far, she was just interested.  "The father is
Apollo, you see, and so she --"
	"You're kidding me!" she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand
as she stole another glance at Apollo.  "Sheba couldn't stand him when
they first met!  I remember her telling me just before the mission to
Gamoray that she didn't know if she wanted to push him out the airlock or
use him for target practice.  I know that they were friends after our
ships separated, but Apollo fathering her child?  That's a little much!"
	Interesting reaction, he noted.  "Stranger things have happened."
	"Yeah, sure, but..."  She crossed her arms across her chest.  "He
never mentioned her to me in that way before.  I always had the
impression that they were friends, but never like that.  I wonder why he
didn't tell me?"
	"Apparently he didn't tell anyone, not even Cain."
	"He didn't tell the Commander about his own grandson?"  Poinciana
shook her head, a look on her face that said that she didn't want to
believe what she was being told.  "That's not like Apollo at all!  He's
so..."
	"Honest?"  Starbuck smiled when she nodded.  "Yeah, apt description,
but he didn't know about Josce.  I have my suspicions about why he never
mentioned his involvement with Sheba, which is probably because he didn't
want to cause any more conflict with Cain than he needed to.  Apollo
already made quite the impression at Gamoray, wouldn't you say?"
	"I suppose..."  She sighed.  "Well, thanks, Starbuck, for telling me
all that."
	Sensing that she was about to leave the table, he quickly blurted
out, "Poinciana, I have a question to ask you."
	One of her blond eyebrows raised slightly as she paused, waiting to
hear what he had to say.  "Uh, sure, Starbuck."
	"Are you attracted to Apollo?"
	She didn't answer for a few microns, but the red color that crept
into her face to shine like a ripe tomate told him everything he needed
to know.
	"Is it that obvious?" she asked, keeping her voice lowered.  She was
deliberately keeping her face turned away from the bar, since due to her
pale complexion, it was extremely noticeable from metrons away.  "Frak."
	"I'm sorry to embarrass you," he apologized, smiling slightly. 
"It's just that... well, I've been noticing things, mostly actions that
you've been trying to give him."
	"Well, you're more perceptive than Apollo is, then," she said, a
slightly bitter tone in her voice.
	"Oh, he's noticed, but the problem with Apollo is that he's...
well..."  Starbuck sat back, trying to find the right words to get
Poinciana to understand.  "Let me put it this way.  Apollo has his own
way with dealing with women.  He's very loyal, almost to a fault, and he
doesn't easily go from one to the next.  He never dated much, either as a
teenager or in the Academy; and he had a crush for the longest time on
one woman.  I think that's what made Apollo's marriage to her so tragic."
	"Oh?"  She seemed to be skeptical, and Starbuck had the feeling that
Apollo hadn't told her all the details.  She probably just knew that
Apollo had been sealed, because of the fact that she knew about Boxey.
	"Oh, indeed.  Her name was Serina, and she was one of the anchors on
the Caprican network.  Pretty famous lady, and Apollo was smitten from
the first micron he saw her."  Starbuck grinned.  "We were at his
parents' house, watching the vid, when she came on.  I think it was her
first story, but she had talent.  I commented on that, and, well, Apollo
didn't answer me.  His eyes were just getting wider and wider until I
thought that his eyes would pop right out of his head.  It was quite the
thing to see, let me tell you!
	"He met her after the Holocaust, and she fell in love with him
quickly.  I don't think Apollo could have been any happier.  As for me, I
got a little bit jealous, because Apollo didn't want to do most of the
things we used to do, and he knew that I was, too.  But then, she was
killed, very shortly after they were sealed.  I knew it would take Apollo
a long time before he could get over her, and it took the better part of
a yahren.  Thanks to Sheba, though, he finally got out of the doldrums."
	It was Poinciana's eyes that widened in surprise this time.  "Sheba? 
Is this when they first started seeing each other?"
	"Yes and no.  You see, Sheba quickly realized that she had a thing
for Apollo, but there was no way in Hades he was going to admit that he
knew it.  And he liked her, too, in more ways than he liked, say,
Cassiopia.  A friend, but more.  Finally, she got him to see reason, and
I would love to tell you how, but I don't know.  Neither would breath a
word to me about what happened."
	"Knowing Sheba, she probably forced him to see what he was doing. 
She has a really blunt way about her sometimes," Poinciana laughed,
though there was something behind her laugh that Starbuck wasn't sure he
could identify.  "Just like her father, too."
	"Exactly.  So, while Apollo and Serina went through the stages of
their relationship like a ship on fire, his relationship with Sheba was
slow, sometimes too slow.  There were at least one or two times when they
had arguments about it, and things would speed up slightly, only to go
back down to the old pace.  And then, he finally decided to move their
relationship to the next step by beginning to make arrangements to
propose to her, and that's when Josce was conceived...  And then Apollo
died."
	By the end of his narrative, Starbuck knew that he had her complete
attention.  Poinciana was nodding slightly, a look of understanding on
her face.  "I think I see, now."
	"Yeah, he's a complicated guy."
	"So do you think he's still interested in Sheba?  It's been nine
yahrens since he left, and has she gone on with her life?"  She paused. 
"If we ever meet back up with the fleet, will she feel the same way for
Apollo that he does with her?"
	"Well... yes.  I know that Apollo's feelings haven't changed for
her, and as for Sheba..."  He shook his head.  "I'm afraid that she's
been sealed to Bojay."
	This time, Poinciana laughed loudly.  "Good for him!  He always had
a thing for her, and it was Sheba this time who never noticed.  But then
again, he never dared to display his affection for her in front of Cain. 
You see, Cain's got the reputation of being hard on any potential suitors
that might be interested in Sheba, and with Meve, it'll undoubtedly be
the same story."
	"How did you get involved with Cain, anyway?" he asked.  "I mean, it
does seem rather odd to me.  No offense, though.  It would be like Adama
getting involved with one of Athena's friends, or Ila making a pass at
me."
	"Well, that's another long story," she smiled.  "But let me put it
this way.  Cain had a lover after the Battle of Gamoray, and she was
killed about a yahren after we met up with the Star Kobol and her fleet. 
He was pretty upset after that, but one evening several sectars after
Nandy died, he called me in to discuss squadron matters.  The atmosphere
was different that time, and by the time I left, well, we had more than a
captain-commander relationship."
	"I see.  It just happened?"
	"Yeah, and then Meve came along," she told him, and her tone turned
bitter.  "Things were pretty good until she was four, and then, well,
that was it.  We just ended our relationship and went back to the way
things were, more or less."
	"More or less?" he repeated, somehow doubting that.  He'd seen the
two of them together on several occasions, and they seemed to be more
friendly when they weren't acting as commander and captain.  They were
very friendly, even friendlier than Starbuck had been with Athena in the
yahrens after they broke up.
	"Yes.  And just after we ended our relationship, that's when Apollo
came aboard."  She sighed, looking over him again.  "I couldn't stand him
at first, because I remembered what an astrum he was back at Gamoray.  I
think I made his life miserable for the first few sectons, especially
when he was put in Silver Spar Squadron by Cain.  But one evening, I was
walking with Meve on the way back from the Rejuvenation Center, and we
ran into him.  I don't know where he was coming from, but he really got
along well with Meve.  She insisted that she spend time with him, and he
didn't seem to mind."
	"And that's how you fell in love with him?"  Starbuck had to smile. 
He partly suspected that Boxey, like Meve, had something to do with how
Apollo and Serina had gotten together.  Having Apollo with a huge crush
on her was one thing, but getting her to reciprocate was another.  He
knew how much his friend loved children, so the way Apollo had paid so
much attention to the problems of a grieving six yahren old boy had been
the magical item in that relationship.  Now it had struck again, only
this time, he knew that Apollo wasn't going to respond to Poinciana's
advances.  That much was clear.
	Even so, Starbuck had to wonder for a few microns what Apollo would
do if they never met back up with the Galactica and her fleet?  Or if
they did, what if Sheba died before then, or she wasn't ready to leave
Bojay yet?  Or any other number of possibilities that Starbuck didn't
really want to think about for the time being.  Was he ready for another
round of the depression that Apollo had gone through after Serina had
died?  And would he even come out of this one?
	"Yes, that's about it."  She shook her head, then glanced at her
timepiece.  Sighing, she pushed back her chair.  "Ah, well, it's time to
get Meve to bed.  She's going to want to see the Heimdall, I know, and
chances are they're coming early in the morning."
	"Okay, see you at the meeting, I guess."  He watched her leave to
collect her daughter, and he was amused to see the way she acted toward
Apollo.  She wasn't overtly enthusiastic, but she did seem to be ignoring
him other than a few brief words.  What a strange combination, he
thought.
	Once they left the lounge, Apollo made his way back to the table. 
"What did you talk about?"
	"Oh, nothing too important," he grinned.  "Just trying to see what
Sheba once saw in her.  Sheba has good taste in company, but I'm not so
sure about that one..."
	Apollo shrugged, then changed the topic.  "Well, if the Heimdall are
coming, then we'd better get some sleep.  Things get interesting while
they're around, you know.  The last time, they brought some kind of
animal that broke loose and got itself lost somewhere in the landing bay. 
Hagan wasn't too pleased about that."
	"True."  Starbuck suddenly laughed as he realized the significance
of the aliens' visit.  "Apollo, do you know what this means?"
	His friend shook his head.  "What?"
	"We don't have to play Triad!"
	Apollo laughed loudly.  "Point taken!"
	They didn't stay much longer in the Officers' Club, deciding instead
to retire to their individual quarters to get some rest.  Starbuck didn't
sleep extremely well, finding that his dreams were full of images of
Sheba, Apollo, Josce, and a hovering image of Poinciana and Bojay
threatening to keep the three apart.
	He was more than relieved a few centars later when his door chime
went off.  He recognized Sheelah, who was looking all too cheerful for
four hundred centars.  She smiled at him sweetly.
	"Hagan wants you in the commander's quarters in ten centons," she
told him.  "The Heimdall are here."
	"They're early, huh?"
	"Lieutenant," she told him, using a semi-serious tone, "the first
thing you'll learn about these people is that there is no such thing as
too early or too late.  These people just arrive."
	"Oh, I see," he said, noticing the way she dealt with him as a
subordinate.  There was none of the rudeness that Poinciana had
displayed, and she actually seemed to be nicer than her friend and wing
mate.  He actually liked her as a person, while he doubted that he would
ever figure out Poinciana.  "I'll be there as soon as I'm dressed."
	He hurried back into his bed chamber to quickly don a clean uniform,
then freshened himself up so he'd look somewhat normal.  Within five
centons, he met up with Hagan, Apollo, and Sheelah outside the entrance
to Cain's quarters.  The colonel had an amused expression on his face,
and Starbuck almost immediately noticed the smile that was mirrored on
Apollo's face.
	"They're in there, huh?" the lieutenant asked, glancing at the
closed doorway.
	"They arrived half a centar ago," Hagan replied.  "They have a full
delegation, and they're having the initial conversations with Commanders
Cain and Helen, and with Councilor Ila, too."
	"And what does a full delegation entail?" Starbuck wanted to know.
	"Usually they just send their own normal envoy of a mid-level
negotiator, but that's putting it more diplomatically than the situation
really is."  The Colonel sighed slightly, then shook his head.  "It's
more of a business relationship."
	"What?  A business relationship?"  Starbuck raised an eyebrow. 
These Heimdall were getting more and more interesting by the micron. 
After Meve's animated description from the previous evening, he really
wanted to meet them now.  "Let me guess, they trade things with us?"
	"That's more or less it," Sheelah confirmed.  "We get information
about any number of subjects, mostly star charts, alien races and the
activity of the Cylons and Shelborn."
	"And in exchange, we give them various things that they need, mostly
more information," Hagan finished.
	"Ah.  Well, when do we get to go in?"
	The Colonel reached to the panel to open the door.  "Right away."
	The first thing that Starbuck was aware of was a smell, something
that tickled his nostrils, but not enough to make him sneeze.  The smell
definitely wasn't natural, but something that reminded him of stuffy
ships with highly perfumed goods.  And the smell led directly to the
group that was gathering in front of Cain's desk.
	There were five of them there, of varying heights, but none any
taller than Starbuck.  True to Meve's description, their clothes clashed,
and their hair truly sprang out in all possible directions.  They had
very round heads with large eyes that varied between shades of blue and
green.  Their clothes, despite the sometimes unbelievable combinations,
looked comfortable, and they were tailored in a style reminiscent of
early Colonial fashions.
	Remembering the comment that the one who clashed the most was
undoubtedly the leader, Starbuck immediately picked the Heimdall out.  He
appeared to be male, and was among the shorter members of the group, only
coming up to Starbuck's shoulder.  He turned when the warriors entered,
and a wide smile crossed his orange-tinted face.
	"Ah, your warriors these be?" he asked, turning to look at Cain,
then at the tallest Heimdall in his group.  "Know these ones, you do?
	Apollo was standing next to Starbuck, and decided to provide
commentary.  "The leader is a new guy, I don't know who he is, but the
one he's talking to is Ejan.  He's the normal representative."
	"Any idea why they're all here?"
	"No idea.  Must be for some kind of new negotiation or something?"
Apollo whispered.
	"Yes, they be the warriors," Ejan replied, then smiled at the new
arrivals.  "Hi there, Hagan, Sheelah, and Apollo.  Sorry to not see
Poinciana."
	"She'll be along later," Hagan told him.
	"Happy to hear."  The Heimdall looked at Starbuck, then extended his
hand.  "But you I don't know, much afraid.  My name is Ejan."
	Starbuck smiled as he reached out to accept the handshake, and to
his surprise, he realized that the alien had an extra finger.  It curled
under the bottom of Starbuck's hand during the shake.  "Starbuck. 
Lieutenant Starbuck.  I'm new, you could say."
	"Ah, good to meet you."  Ejan pointed to the rest of his delegation. 
"This is the leader, and my superior, Reprie.  Also with us is Nuelic,
Melich, Ory and Quescaj.  Aides they are."
	A few greetings were exchanged while Starbuck looked behind the
aliens to see Ila and Helen.  The two women were sitting on the couches
behind the envoy, with uncertain expressions on their faces.  That
immediately put Starbuck on edge, and as he glanced at Apollo, he saw
that his friend had noticed it, too.  Their arrival had interrupted
something.
	Cain was looking very worried as he sat behind his desk, and he
motioned for everyone to sit down.  "Reprie, why don't you start with
what you were going to tell us when the warriors entered?"
	The leader nodded as his people took some of the seats that were
arranged around the room.  Starbuck sat heavily in one of the chairs by
the wall, while Apollo preferred to do his old habit of leaning against
the bulkhead with his arms crossed.
	"Very well."  Reprie paused as he made sure that all those assembled
were comfortable.  "Interesting information have we.  In contact not long
ago with group called Culsu for our trade.  Told us they did what we
assume was myth, but group called Vata said same thing later.
	"Said they heard of race of aliens that appeared.  Come and go, they
do, never speaking.  Vata call them 'Strangers.'  'Cymorth' is Culsu name
for them."
	"What does Cymorth mean?" Sheelah asked.
	"It means 'the new ones,' and they are new," Enaj told them.  "And
we heard they like sometimes to raid planets and ships.  Other than that,
nothing else is known."
	"But they're in our section of space?" Apollo prompted, and he was
replied by a nod.  "Are they a threat to us?"
	"Know not, I'm afraid," the Heimdall said apologetically.
	"So we have a group of beings," Ila said, rising from her seat to
pace slightly in front of her seat.  Her long robes swirled around her
legs as she walked.  "We don't know whether they're here to make
mischief, or to stake a claim, or just to go through peacefully while
exploring.  Haven't your people been able to locate them?"
	Reprie shook his head.  "Find them, our ships cannot.  Only hear
stories that frighten us much.  Hope there is that you find more,
Commander Cain, and we tell our clients who are many about them.  Much
tension, Commander, in this part of universe because of news being
spread."
	Starbuck listened as a few theories were put on the table by
Reprie's staff, namely by the one named Ory.  He looked like a numerator
to Starbuck, by the neat way his clothes were arranged despite their
uncoordinated colors.  His arguments were just as imaginative as an
numerator's, in that he thought of the least probable and yet highly
detailed account of what the new species might be up to.
	"Then there's only one thing we can do," Cain decided after the
unhelpful discussion, looking at Hagan, then at the assembled captains
and lieutenant.  "We're going to have to keep a careful eye out for them. 
Watch the scans carefully, investigate any anomaly, everything and
anything.  I want to know more about these... what did you call them? 
Cymorth?"
	Enaj nodded.  "Commander, yes."
	"Thank you.  Cymorth...  I'll have to remember that.  Now, I want
that to be a priority.  We need to know more before we can plan any kind
of way to deal with them.  They might be friendly, for all we know."
	An idea came to Starbuck, and he leaned forward to attract the
others' attention.  "I have a question, and it just slightly has to do
with these Cymorth.  If the Heimdall have so many ships scattered about,
couldn't they get in contact with the Galactica and her fleet?  That way,
we could get information across, and maybe they know something about the
aliens?"
	Almost immediately, Cain shot down his idea.  "They could, but --"
	"Galactica?" Reprie repeated.  "That is what?"
	Enaj looked at him.  "Ship like this, ahead of here with big fleet. 
Going in same direction, and Cylons pursue it."
	The Heimdall leader cringed at the mention of the humans' enemy. 
"No!  Never near go a group that Cylons want.  Bad luck!  Business go bad
if that happen.  Cylons come after us next if perceived by them that help
them we do."
	"Then why do you come here?" Starbuck asked, not understanding
completely what was going on.  "Aren't we marked for destruction as much
as the Galactica, or even the Shelborn?"
	"Shelborn we deal not with!" one of the other Heimdall spoke up
brusquely.  "Scavenge ship after crash and battles, yes, but trade with
them never!"
	"My apologies," the lieutenant returned, "but what about us?"
	"We're not a clear target," Helen spoke up, leaning back in her
seat.  The Star Kobol's commander still didn't look comfortable with the
lack of information.  "I'm not even convinced that the Cylon Imperious
Leader knows about us.  Their concentration is purely on the Galactica. 
We, well, we just come across the odd patrol or base, but nothing too
significant.  We haven't had a major Cylon raid in yahrens.  Just the odd
scramble."
	"So you're saying that the reason we never really encountered any
new aliens species other than whoever we would encounter on a planet was
because the Cylons were after us, and the space-faring ones knew it?" 
Starbuck saw the commanders nod, and he looked up to see Apollo looking
thoughtful.
	"Yeah, that basically summarizes it."
	"Ah.  That makes sense."  He nodded, then quieted down as he saw
that Cain was about to speak again.
	"Perhaps we should start immediately," he decided.  "Hagan, I want
you to make sure that the Vipers' scanners are updated and adjusted so
that they don't miss anything.  I want to work with the Heimdall, as
well, in updating the war books.  If we meet them, I want to be able to
recognize them."
	"Yes, sir," Hagan said, then he glanced across the room at Apollo. 
"Captain, I'd like your help in this matter."
	The dark-haired captain nodded, then Cain continued to speak. 
"Sheelah, I want you to brief the squadrons, and for now, maybe we should
hold off the war quorum until we know more.  I don't want to scare
everyone in the fleet with news of a potential threat just yet.  Since it
might still turn out that they aren't a threat to begin with.  Reprie,
I'd like to continue speaking to you on some matters, but Enaj is free to
go with Hagan and Apollo."
	"Much thanks, Commander," the tall Heimdall said as he moved over
the entrance, and he was joined by the two warriors.  Apollo flashed a
smile at both Starbuck and his mother before he left.
	"As for the rest of us, stay calm.  I don't want any panic
starting."  Cain glanced especially at his fellow Councilors, then gave a
final nod.  "That's it.  We'll meet later."
	As the commander stayed to speak with the Heimdall leader, Starbuck
followed Sheelah out of the room.  With Apollo gone on assignment for the
next few centars, he was going to have to find his own way to amuse
himself before his scheduled patrol that afternoon.  Maybe now would be a
good time to go back to bed and try to get some restful sleep.
	"Have you eaten yet this morning?"  Ila's soft voice surprised
Starbuck as the siress fell into step next to him.  "The suddenness of
the meeting caught me off guard, and I wasn't able to get anything before
I left the Star Kobol.  How about if we go get some breakfast?"
	Starbuck smiled at her.  When he and Apollo first met, he had felt
rather jealous when he met his friend's family.  It was a concept that he
never remembered, and one that he longed for.  A full set of parents,
siblings, and a stable home full of love.  He tried not to show his
jealousy, especially in front of Apollo, who he knew would have argued
that he didn't actually have that -- Adama's frequent absences sometimes
gave the impression that he was a guest rather than an actual inhabitant
of the house.
	Ila, he knew, had suspected that he felt that way, and she often
went out of her way to make time with the orphaned boy.  Some days, when
her other children were out, she would take Starbuck for dinner, or for
some other special treat to give him some of the attention she knew he
had lacked over the yahrens.  Looking back, Starbuck remembered how much
he had looked forward to those outings, and he smiled as he did.
	"Sounds like an idea to me."
	Together, they headed for the cafeteria, and before long, they were
sitting across from each other.  The food wasn't much better than what
they had eaten on the Star Kobol, but neither complained until they had
both taken the edge off their hunger.
	"You know, Starbuck," Ila said, sitting back in her seat, "it's days
like this where I wish I had some Danu melon for breakfast.  I used to
love eating that, and I tried to get it every once in a while. 
Remember?"
	He nodded, recalling how every once in a while at his friend's
house, the juicy treat would be served along with the flatcakes that
Adama sometimes made.  "Those meals were wonderful."
	"And now all we get are these."  She held up one of the rations,
twirling it around on her utensil.  "It's boring, it's mundane.  I don't
envy little Meve growing up with just these.  There's a few mushies, I
know, but otherwise, it's the same old thing again and again.  I hope
that the situation isn't the same on the Galactica."
	"No, we actually had agroships there, so there was variety."  He
smiled sadly in remembrance.  "They even had Danu plants, but I never saw
the Commander eat one, even when he had the opportunity on the Rising
Star.  I guess it reminds him too much of you, and he won't allow himself
to even enjoy it once."
	"And that's where Apollo gets it from, you know," Ila said.  "He and
his father would always react to things the same, even though Adama can
control his reactions better than Apollo.  Ah, my poor boy.  He sometimes
used to get teased a lot when he was little because of the wonderful
reactions he'd give.  So they both mope around the same way."
	"That's funny.  I've heard the Commander say on several occasions
that Apollo inherited his temperament from you."  Starbuck's eyebrow then
raised a bit in curiosity.  "He's bemoaned his troubles to you?"
	"I'm his mother, that's what we mothers do.  We listen to our
children's woes, do our best to make them feel better and more confident,
and send them away with their emotional skinned knees all better."  Ila
smiled slightly.  "He's told me all about Serina and his sealing to her;
and about his ruined plans with Sheba.  Oh, and we've discussed
Poinciana."
	Both of his eyebrows were making a trip to go hide underneath his
bangs.  "Poinciana?  Apollo doesn't like her.  Why would he --"
	"No, he doesn't like her.  She's infatuated with him, and that's the
problem."  Ila sighed, then glanced around the mess hall to make sure
that neither captains being mentioned were present.  "I've been watching
her, and there's more to that woman that meets the eye.  I don't like
her."
	"Oh?"
	"There's something about her that I don't like.  She's just... an
odd one, and she's got something up her sleeve.  I don't want Apollo
involved at all, not that I think he'd get involved with Poinciana, but
he certainly is with little Meve."
	"He's quite taken with the little ball of energy, isn't he?"
Starbuck laughed, then smiled sadly.  "I really wish he could have been
there during Josce's early yahrens -- and you, too, Ila.  He was such a
well behaved little boy."
	"If he's anything close to the way Apollo was as a child, I wouldn't
be surprised," she replied, but when she continued, her voice had a
serious tone again.  "But with Poinciana, the problem lies with Cain. 
She hasn't forgiven Cain yet for ending their relationship.  They got so
close that I suspect that Cain suddenly pushed back to get more space. 
I'd say that they would have been sealed within the yahren if he hadn't
done that.  I just don't think he was ready for that kind of commitment
yet.  For him, the only woman he can possibly think of as his wife was
and also shall remain Bethany."
	Starbuck nodded.  "Or possibly Cassie, if Molecay hadn't occurred."
	"Very true from what I heard.  Now, I'm not saying that Cain doesn't
love her, it's just that he doesn't have the same feelings for her that
he did for Bethany, even though both have given him a daughter."
	By this point, Ila was becoming rather agitated, something Starbuck
had seen her do many times before.  He knew that she worried a lot about
her children's well-being, and even Starbuck's own; this occasion would
be no different.  Even if Apollo was supposed to be over forty, Ila's
worries hadn't diminished at all.
	"So how does Apollo fit into all this?" Starbuck wanted to know.  At
the first mention of Ila's suspicion, the hairs at the back of his neck
prickled slightly.  He knew from experience that he should take Ila's
suspicions about people and situations seriously.  Apollo's mother had an
uncanny knack of being pretty accurate about people.
	"I don't know just yet," she admitted, sighing as she brought her
hand up to touch her hair.  "It could be that I'm wrong about all this,
since most of it is just my observations and my interpretations of how
things are.  But then again, I may be right. Maybe Poinciana is going to
make a move on Apollo, and that will make everything worse.  You know
what they say about a woman scorned, Starbuck.  We may be in for a lot
more trouble with her when Apollo turns her down, especially since he's
at the end of his patience with her.  Knowing Apollo, he's not going to
be very considerate of her fragile ego when he turns her down.  Poinciana
isn't the kind of woman who takes rejection well -- I know that from when
Cain ended their relationship.  I just hope that she doesn't use that
sweet little Meve against Apollo, considering how attached he is to her. 
And Meve to him."
	"Ouch.  I don't think I'd want to be around when that occurs, though
I suspect that I'd be hearing all about it later."  Starbuck sighed. 
"First Serina, and now Sheba.  What makes it worse is that he could get
over Serina, because she's dead; but Sheba's alive.  He still has a
chance."
	"Does he?"  Ila looked skeptical yet slightly hopeful.  "Apollo told
me that you said that she's sealed to someone named... Bojay?  Yes,
Bojay, now.  What does that say for any possible reunion?"
	He gave a wry grin.  "I wouldn't hold my breath on that being a
lasting marriage.  They were having some problems when I was marooned,
and I'd imagine that things would get only worse with time."
	"For Apollo's sake, because otherwise I wouldn't be saying this, I
hope that it's over by the time we meet up with the fleet."  Ila took a
deep breath, then smiled.  "Welcome to the Pegasus fleet, Starbuck, also
known as the home of intrigue and drama. Apollo's situation is only the
beginning, and we can't forget about his implant and the fun that
presents, combined with the various aliens and now these new Cymorth... 
All these together make life very interesting."
	Starbuck laughed.  "When do things heat up?"
	"But my dear Starbuck," she smiled back at him, "things already
are."

Part 8 - The principles of necessity

	Soon after the meeting with Enaj and the other Heimdall, Cain drove
home the point that we were to discover everything we could about the
mysterious Cymorth.  Nearly every debriefing after patrols would begin
with the same question:  "Well?  Did you find anything?"
	Sometimes, there was more emphasis, but invariably, it was Cymorth
this, Cymorth that, or as an exasperated Cain once asked, "Who the frak
are these Cymorth?"
	We hadn't learned much since the Heimdall envoy had told us about
the mysterious race, other than pieces and snatches of rumors every once
in a while.  We no idea if they were really the aggressors that the
Heimdall had painted them to be, or if they were some neutral force that
joined the continuing conflict between the Shelborn and the Cylons
accidentally.  I favored the latter explanation, since I didn't want to
think of any other kind of malevolent force out there in the cosmos.
	The only useful piece of data was what their ships looked like. 
They looked unlike anything I'd ever seen before, and Enaj agreed.  The
ships were alien, but very familiar to the senses.  The structure didn't
seem strange, as though it was meant to create the impression of deja vu
-- but not quite -- in the mind of the viewer.
	It wasn't long before our patrols began to detect the new arrivals. 
Silver Spar Squadron had the advance patrols that Cain hoped would detect
the Cymorth, and there were three wings within the squadron.  Hagan had
one, Poinciana the second, and I took the third.  My two wing men were
Barthel and Starbuck, and we had the luck of seeing the Cymorth first.
	We were out on deep probe, and Starbuck had the watch.  Barthel and
I were taking the rest period, and I'd just dozed off only to be
reawakened by Starbuck's voice, loud and frightened in my ears.
	"Apollo!" he practically screamed, jarring me back to my senses.  I
blinked my eyes a few times to clear my vision while in the meantime,
Starbuck's hysterics continued.  "Apollo, wake up!  For Kobol's sake,
wake up!"
	"I'm awake, Starbuck," I told him calmly, succeeding in getting the
majority of the cobwebs out of my brain.  "What is it?"
	"Look at your scanner!  No, don't even bother with that.  Look
directly out your cockpit!" he ordered.  "Twenty degrees to the left."
	"All right."  I followed his instructions, and just as I heard
Barthel's sharp intake of breath, I spotted what had caused Starbuck's
reaction.  There were several things I could have said to describe my
reaction, but all that escaped my lips was a whispered, "Incredible..."
	All I could see against the background of a spattering of stars was
a huge vehicle.  Its dimensions rivaled that of a battlestar, but the
construction was different.  It was a pale black in color, with several
sets of lights all over its surface, reminding me of cityscapes after
dark.  It moved slowly over an empty moon, and behind it, I could barely
spot something behind it.  My scanner informed me that they were more
ships of similar design, but none as big as the first.  They were like a
swarm, moving hastily about in a haphazard pattern that held no
significance that I could identify.
	I was held in rapture by the sight of them.  I heard both Starbuck
and Barthel ask several times what we were going to do, and it took me
several centons to respond.  Finally, I said, "We should hold our
position."
	"We are holding position," Starbuck snapped back.  "Come on, Apollo,
I don't like this at all!  They're just sitting there!"
	"I wonder what they're waiting for?" Barthel wondered.
	I shushed them, watching and hoping that our ships' scanners were
recording everything.  The alien fleet finally moved away from us,
leaving the star system at a phenomenal speed, and soon we were alone
again.
	Cain was thrilled at our discovery, but he soon got on my case when
he discovered that I hadn't tried to make contact.  He was still sore
about learning that Sheba and I once had a relationship, and that
irritation usually fueled any other displeasure he had about me.
	"Well?" he asked after he heard my negative response to the
question.  "What's your excuse, Captain?"
	Both Barthel and Starbuck didn't want to attract Cain's attention to
them by saying anything for my defense, for fear that he'd chew them
down, too.  That left me under the commander's intense scrutiny, and I
didn't dare back down from this.  Cain did have a point, though.  Why
hadn't I tried to make contact?
	"They pretty well had us surprised," I said, but I could see that my
explanation wasn't pleasing Cain at all.  "And then they were out of
there before we could do anything.  We were lucky to get the scanner
readings that we received."
	To my surprise, he seemed to buy the excuse, and he returned to his
desk.  I remained where I was, feeling shocked and unsteady at the sudden
retreat.
	"Well, at least we've found them," he finally said after looking at
his monitor again.  The record of the ships were there, and he'd watched
them several times during our report.
	"Or they found us," Starbuck spoke up, and Cain shot a hard look his
way.  "Sir.  Well, you have to admit that we still don't know their
motives."
	"Very true, but it's a start, Lieutenant."  He turned his gaze over
in my direction again.  "We know they're around, and next time, Captain,
let's try to be on our toes?"
	I left his quarters after the debriefing, and almost rudely brushed
off Starbuck's well-meaning questions.  I just wanted to be alone for a
few centars, and eventually, he got the hint.  I know it must have hurt
his feelings, but when I was in one of my "moods," as Mother called
termed them, I wanted to be away from everyone.  I would have to
apologize to him later, though.
	One thing I didn't like about the Pegasus was that there was no
celestial dome to retreat to like there had been on the Galactica; all
the ones here had long been destroyed.  My quarters didn't provide the
solitude I wanted; in fact, I usually avoided them for all purposes other
than sleeping.  They were too big, for one thing, and they looked to be
the size a sealed couple would use.  I didn't even want to contemplate on
those thoughts just yet.
	My new "refuge," if one could call it that, was the launching bay. 
After nineteen hundred centars, the bay was put on stand-by, meaning that
nothing would be happening until the next day when Silver Spar began its
share of the patrols again -- unless an alert was called.  It was quiet
after twenty-one hundred, when the crews finished their repairs and left
the bay in the solitude that I often retreated to.
	I'd used the bay once aboard the Galactica, when the celestial dome
had been occupied Starbuck and Cassiopia.  Feeling a little put-off
because my dome was being used, I went down to the bay with the rationale
that I had to check over my Viper.  The duskiness suited my mood.  That
time, I think, I'd been upset with Sheba.  We'd had one of our fights,
and they were pretty intense when they got going.  We never did much more
than yell at each other, but before we could make up, I was called to
report to my father's office.  I couldn't remember what the topic was
about, probably a squadron issue, but when it was over, my mood hadn't
improved since the argument.
	Then, just like now, I went down to the bay and looked over my
Viper.  Nothing was wrong that time, so I just sat underneath my Viper,
sitting with my back straight, and let my mind go blank.  It was the
easiest way of meditating I knew, and sometimes it did wonders in calming
me down.  Instead of blankness, though, the fight with Sheba replayed in
my mind that time.  I wasn't sure where she was, and I didn't really want
to face looking all over the ship for her.
	I didn't need to.  Dimly, through my thoughts, I heard light
footsteps, then a pair of arms wrapped themselves about my shoulders. 
Her voice, soft in my ear, asked, "Is there enough room under here for
two?"
	I nodded, and she gave me a hug before sitting directly in front of
me.  Grasping my hands in hers, she waited a few centons while studying
my face before speaking.  I wasn't about to be the first person to speak,
so I just waited for her to take the initiative.
	"How did the meeting with your father go?" she asked, and I shrugged
slightly.  "Come on, Apollo, say something.  You're still mad at me,
aren't you?"
	If it had been Starbuck, I would have said something rude in reply,
but with Sheba, I didn't really want to say anything.  The argument
hadn't been about a new topic.  Although Sheba and I had been seeing each
other for three yahrens at the time, I was still reluctant to let
anything go faster than a steady crawling pace, as Sheba referred to it. 
The relationship with Serina had gone much too quickly, and a part of me
suggested that maybe if things had been slowed down to a normal pace, the
tragedy of her death on Kobol could have been averted.
	"I guess I still am," I admitted.
	"But can't you see where I'm coming from?" she pressed, and I
avoided her gaze by looking at the deck.  There were times when I
purposefully looked away from the person I was talking to, because more
often than not, I was afraid that they'd look into my eyes and see what I
was thinking about.  Sheba, Starbuck and Athena were very good at doing
that, and so was Father.  "Apollo, you're avoiding me.  Tell me why.  Go
ahead, say it.  I won't get mad this time."
	I stifled a laugh.  Sheba not get mad?  That was something I had to
see for myself.  Her temper was just as bad as mine, and I knew there
were bets going around with the other pilots about who would end up in
the Life Center first.  Last I heard, the person they believed would end
up there was me.
	"I suppose I can," I finally said, "but I'm sorry, Sheba.  I can't
go any faster than this.  If I speed up at all, I...  It's bad luck."
	One of her eyebrows raised slightly.  "Since when have you believed
in luck?"
	"Starbuck finally rubbed off on me," I said absently.  Her grip
tightened on my hands, but rather than being intense, it was more
encouraging.  I looked up at her and met her gaze.  Her large brown eyes
were worried, not angry, and I felt my own anger disappear as I realized
how much I loved her.  It was so different from how I once felt for
Serina; it was strange but I was secure with it.  "Sheba, I don't want to
lose you."
	"And you think that going quickly in the relationship will put me in
danger?" she asked, but instead of sounding amused like I feared she
would, she seemed to understand.
	"It put Serina in danger.  The only reason she went with me and
Father into the tomb on Kobol was because she and I were just sealed. 
She didn't want to leave me."  I shook my head.  It was the first time
I'd mentioned Serina to anyone in a long time.  Although the memory of my
wife was growing more distant every passing sectar even after all this
time, there were times when I felt I couldn't part with it.  It was like
I'd be losing a part of myself if I did.  And then there was the
comparison between this relationship and the one I once had.  If there
was anything that seemed to be similar to it, I avoided that thought
immediately as though it were a hex.  "But she did in the end.  If she
had been with Athena and the other pilots, maybe she'd be still alive."
	"Apollo..."  The way she said my name drew the three syllables out. 
She usually did that when she wanted my full attention.  "Apollo, that
was then.  This is now.  Do you think that moving at a... slightly faster
pace will really make that much of a difference?"
	I shrugged, then threw out the challenge.  "If you're not happy with
the pace, why stick around with me?"
	"Because I love you, Apollo, or are you that much of a daggit's
astrum to not realize that?" she teased.  "I've had my chance to leave
before, but I haven't.  Right?"
	"Right."  I had to smile at that.  Even though we had our
differences that caused arguments that could do more damage than a Cylon
strike, we were still together.
	"And you've had your own opportunities to leave, too," she
continued, "but you haven't."
	"And I won't, either."  Looking back, that line hurt the most,
especially seeing that at the time, we only had a yahren together before
my ship would crash.
	"Good."  She watched me carefully.  "Now, Apollo, could we just try
to go a little faster?  Nothing too drastic, but more than we are right
now.  What do you think?"
	Reluctantly, I nodded, but at the same time, I really liked the
idea.  Starbuck and Cassiopia had a relationship that I secretly envied,
but even so, I was too scared to pursue my own.  Maybe this time, I could
achieve that goal.  "Why don't we give it a try?"
	Her response was to throw her arms around my neck and to plant a
large kiss on my lips.  "That's exactly what I want to hear!"
	She giggled, then planted her hands on my shoulders so she could
push me backward.  I found myself lying on the deck on my back, with
Sheba positioning herself so she was sitting on my chest.  The grin on
her face was almost predatory as she pinned my arms up around my head.
	"Hey," I protested as her grin grew.  When Sheba felt like teasing,
she knew how to tease.  "What if someone comes in and sees us here? 
They'll get strange ideas."
	"Let them," she said, not moving from her perch.  "Besides, we'll
hear them coming, anyway."
	"But it won't look good if they see the flight captain like this," I
continued, but I could see the twinkle in her brown eyes.  It was the
twinkle that told me that playing to her pity wasn't going to work at
all.  "Come on, Sheba...  Hey!"
	While I had been speaking, she had taken to tickling the side of my
neck, knowing full well that I was very ticklish in places.  I squirmed
underneath her, but any attempt to get her off me were unsuccessful as
she continued her onslaught.
	"What did you say?" she asked, beginning to tickle harder.  She was
tickling my arms through the fabric of my uniform, and I was laughing too
hard to really be able to fend her off by that time.  It wasn't fair!  I
used to get backed into corners and tickled unmercifully by both Zac and
Athena when we were children, and age had made me only more sensitive to
it.
	"Sheba!" I gasped, feeling my eyes tearing.
	She continued for what felt like an eternity, and finally, she
relented.  Before I could catch my breath, she was kissing me again, and
this time, I could reciprocate.  I held her close to me until a few
centons later, when I finally said, "I love you, Sheba."
	"And I love you, Apollo," she replied, leaning her head against my
shoulder.  "You're so much fun to tease, you know?"
	"It's only because I let you," I joked, "and we can't forget that
you're certifiable, too."
	Sitting in the Pegasus' launching bay underneath my Viper, I could
still feel Sheba's remembered touch on my body.  She used to love bugging
me sometimes, and more often than not, I'd let her.  It was one part of
her that I loved, since it was a uniquely Sheba quality.  Serina had
always been calmer, and her teasing was generally gentler and much more
subtle.
	Sheba.  I missed her dreadfully at times.  Starbuck's news about her
hadn't helped at all, not that I had expected to hear joyful news.  What
was I expecting?  To hear that she was still there on the Galactica,
living her life in single bliss because the very thought of living
without me was unbearable?  Oh, sure, in a perfect universe.
	But Bojay?  I shuddered at the thought.  Once upon a time, we had
been friends, when I first came aboard the Galactica.  He was part of
Starbuck's group of friends in Blue Squadron, and I just naturally hung
around him with no questions.  After a battle where both Bojay and I were
promoted to captain, he was transferred to the Fifth Fleet, never to be
seen again until we ran into the Pegasus at Gamoray.  So much for the
perfect universe -- that was when the problems started.
	Starbuck and Boomer were the ones to first catch on that Bojay was
playing up to something, but I was clueless.  I was too busy with keeping
the squadrons in line, raising my then-seven yahren old son, and just
generally trying to keep my life together.  I was still suffering from
depression after Serina's death, but the new light of my life, Sheba, was
making me really appreciate life again.
	Bojay believed that he had more of a claim to Sheba than I did;
after all, he had known her far longer than I did, and he had a crush on
her for most of their friendship.  Being around Cain had made him fearful
of ever approaching Sheba with his interest, but once they were on the
Galactica, he finally felt safe to make his move.  Instead, he found me
in the way.
	Things began to get heated between us, though I didn't know why at
the time.  I suspected that it had to do with the fact that we were the
two captains, and he was still bitter that I was his superior.  Starbuck
pushed my face into the situation when he grew tired of hearing Bojay's
jabs about me, and once he realized that I wasn't going to see the
situation on my own.
	The realization had hurt me, because I had considered Bojay to be a
friend.  Then one day, Bojay just stopped everything he was doing to
antagonize me, much to my surprise.  I finally discovered that Boomer --
quiet Boomer! -- had taken him aside to "discuss" things.
	Nevertheless, Bojay had won.  He was sealed to Sheba, and I was
here, alone and the loser.  It gave me second thoughts about returning to
the Galactica and her fleet, that was for sure.  If Sheba was really
happy, I didn't want to give her second thoughts, or to ruin what
happiness she had.
	But then again, would that really make a difference if they didn't
believe that I was really me?
	The same old nagging thought about who I was now always returned to
me to make me stop and fret.  Not worry -- fret.  Almost nail-chewing
nervousness that wrenched my insides with apprehension.  I considered it
to almost be a miracle that Cain, Mother and Starbuck all believed that I
was Apollo.  It didn't take any convincing at all with Mother, because
she already knew, and my response to my hated nickname was all the
confirmation she needed.  Cain had taken more time in making a decision
about my identity -- he had my explanation about the cloning, a positive
genetic match, and the fact that I could tell him everything that
happened at Gamoray, including the arguments we had.
	Starbuck had taken longer to convince then either Mother or Cain,
but now he was more loyal than he ever was.  Still, I remembered standing
there on the planet, and seeing the doubting look on his face when I
first introduced myself.  I knew that I looked different that I did
before.  Hades, there were still times when I looked in the mirror and
had a double-take.  I looked the way I did yahrens before, not the way
Starbuck did now.  I looked younger than Athena; Boxey and I, if we ever
met up again, would look more like brothers than father and son.
	And I would look more like Josce's older brother than his father. 
Oh, Lords of Kobol, why did life have to be so confusing?  It was a
thought that had often surfaced, more a plea for understanding than
anything else.  If I only knew why I had returned from the dead, brought
back to life in this cloned body instead of staying dead like I had
before, maybe then I would be more confident in returning to the
Galactica.
	I suppose that I could be called a reincarnated person, having full
access to memories from the previous life in this one, but in a clone? 
It just seemed to be too... convenient.  The first time I had died,
according to both Starbuck and Sheba, my life had been returned to me
because dying hadn't been my idea; Iblis had made the choice for me when
I was more or less murdered on that strange red planet.  I didn't
remember anything after confronting Iblis except for a few hazy details,
and I relied on what the other two said had occurred.
	But this time?  It wasn't the same.  I had made the choice to die,
if only to end the agony I was in.  So what was so important that I had
to return to life to complete?  I had no idea now, because before, with
the Shelborn, I had just assumed that it was to fight the Cylons for
them.
	Okay, so I was reincarnated for a purpose that I didn't understand. 
I hoped I would when whatever it was occurred, but until then, I would
remain in the dark and just deal with life.  Well, that would be a fun
story to return to the Galactica with, but there was a bit of a problem.
	The religion I was raised with, the Kobolian faith, didn't exactly
believe in reincarnation.  There were plenty in the Colonies that did --
even some on Caprica, including Jolly's Keltoi tradition, but not the
Koboliana.  Once upon a time, sometime after the exodus from Kobol, the
belief had existed, but some leader somewhere had changed the doctrine to
his own personal belief.  I knew that from researching my faith's history
during the free time that I now had since I wasn't a flight leader.  So
Father would have a problem with my return, and possibly several others.
	Athena wouldn't have a problem with the concept of reincarnation,
since she had more or less abandoned her faith in any kind of
spirituality after the Destruction of the Colonies, something many others
had done.  For me, losing our very civilization had strengthened my
faith, even though I didn't really rely on the strength offered in my
darkest centars after Zac and Serina were killed.  Mother's death -- or
assumed death, rather -- was easier for me to accept, especially since
Serina and Zac still had their lives to live.
	There would be a controversy about my return, that would be a given,
though I'm sure Father would have to admit that miracles do occur.  The
bigger problem made the reincarnation issue seem trivial.  How to
convince them I was me.  Going by Starbuck's reluctant acceptance,
because beside being the only person to actually know my original fate,
he also knew me better than anyone else, save Sheba, Athena and Father. 
If it had taken my childhood friend a while to accept, then how long
would it take the others to come to terms with the truth?
	I'd toyed with the concept of lying, that I was still the same old
me.  Well, the same old me, just looking younger and with an implant in
my brain.  There were ways to explain those.  Maybe I could fib that I
was overtaken by some kind of age reducing space phenomenon, then seized
by the Shelborn who then proceeded to put the implant in.  That would
work, sure, until they pulled out the med scanner and did a complete
exam.  Then they'd see that I wasn't the old Apollo.  I didn't have the
scars, and I didn't have the faded and healed remnants of broken bones. 
I had new scars, like the one on my left forearm from breaking the
surface of the suspended animation tube.  I had new healed injuries, like
the broken leg suffered by tumbling down the ravine while running from
the Cylon Raiders.
	I shook my head, feeling hopeless.  It was times like these that
made me feel just absolutely worthless, as if I had no future.  Fitting
into the Pegasus was easier here, because although I had the reputation
from Gamoray and the occasional suspicion in regards to my implant, I was
now one of them.  This was Apollo for them; I was their wing mate, and in
the case of a few of my fellow Silver Spar pilots, I was their friend.
	And the man that Poinciana was in love with.
	Now this was another Triad game.  In some of my lighter moods, I'd
get a mental image of myself running away from Poinciana, screaming like
a child frightened by a scary vid.  She was a lovely woman; smart and
loyal. But I'm not in love with her at all.
	I don't even know when I first became aware of how uncomfortable I
was around her.  I suppose that at first, I was just being very friendly
to her.  After all, she had been Sheba's best friend, and I could recount
many a story Sheba had told me about her.  And, as the saying goes, any
friend of Sheba's is a friend of mine.  I hadn't mentioned anything about
my relationship with Sheba to her, mostly because it was too painful for
me to think about, and I didn't want it to get in the way of anything. 
Especially if word got up to Cain, who already had his reasons to be
terse with me, even though the commander was treating me sort of like a
member of his family, the way my father had with Sheba after Gamoray. 
And if my love for Sheba wasn't mentioned, then I didn't mention Serina,
either.  After meeting Meve, I would talk about Boxey with Poinciana, but
nothing more than the fact that he was my son.  I never even really said
that he wasn't my biological son.
	I think it was Meve who might have set the situation off to where it
was today.  Being the eldest of three had given me a love for children,
especially with my siblings being at least six yahrens younger than me. 
And Meve, as a four yahren old, was simply adorable, and I was just taken
with her.  Not only that, but once I found out that she was Sheba's
half-sister, it felt like I had a real connection to her now.  We took to
each other very quickly, and Meve insisted that she spend time with me,
especially since she had the child's intuition that I wasn't happy.
	My role with her was like Starbuck's with Boxey.  I looked after her
when Poinciana was on patrol, or when she was busy with her duties.  And
like I did with Starbuck, Poinciana appreciated what I was doing.
	But then it started.  Something was happening, and one day I
suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable with her.  I couldn't explain it
at all, especially since nothing seemed to be different with Poinciana. 
She was the same sometimes abrasive woman who otherwise was nice, but
other than that?  No, nothing different.
	I think Mother noticed my perplexed expression during one of our
visits.  I had just had a close encounter with Poinciana, and I still
didn't know where the strange feelings were coming from.  Mother had been
discussing some issue brought up in the latest Council meeting while we
were eating lunch, and I was listening with half an ear as I pondered
what was going on with Poinciana.  Eventually, I became aware of silence
about me, and I looked up from my plate to see Mother's blue eyes
examining me.
	"Were you listening to what I was saying?" she asked, and I felt my
face flush as I shook my head.  She waited a few microns, then with the
patient tone I remembered all too well from my childhood, she spoke
again.  "Well?  What's on your mind, then?"
	I could tell Mother almost everything, and I think I had.  I told
her about Serina, and our sealing before her death; the details of trying
live without her.  About Zac's death and the guilt I felt then, which in
all truth returned occasionally to haunt me.  My relationship with Boxey,
and how I loved him as though he were my own.  My fights with Father, and
my attempts to let Athena live her own life especially after her
relationship ended with Starbuck.  But most of all, I told her about
Sheba; about the attraction I developed almost immediately after meeting
her at Gamoray, and how I refused to acknowledge it until she made me
realize how destructive my behavior was.  And then, how much I loved her,
how hard it was to open up to her, and how close we came to being sealed. 
And, most importantly, how much I missed her.
	So I told her about the strange feeling I had with Poinciana, and
how it had just suddenly appeared out of nowhere.  She nodded as I spoke,
and when I finished, she gave me a semi-knowing look.  To my surprise,
she asked me if I was attracted to Poinciana.
	"No!" I exclaimed, feeling like I was all of twelve yahrens.
	"Well, Apollo," she said seriously, "it's clear to me that she
certainly is attracted toward you.  I don't know.  Maybe you've been
giving her mixed messages with being so involved with Meve?  Isn't that
what happened with you and Serina?  You helped with Boxey and got him the
daggit?"
	"I have not been giving her mixed messages!" I protested.  "I
haven't been doing anything!  I've just been me!  Plain old boring me!"
	"Well, obviously she thinks you aren't boring," she replied, which
made my face flare even more.  She smiled in amusement.  "Appy, don't
react like that.  I don't think you're boring, and neither did any of
your friends.  And I suspect that both Serina and Sheba didn't think you
were boring, either."
	"Okay, then I'm not boring.  And don't call me Appy."
	My solution to the problem was easy enough:  ignore her.  If I
didn't pay her any attention other than I would normally, and even then
less than I did before, she would even just leave me alone.  Easy enough,
and I held great hope in that method.
	Three yahrens later, I was still hoping that she would get the idea. 
But whenever I saw Mother, she'd just shake her head to tell me that
obviously it wasn't working.  And if Starbuck had seen it almost right
away, then it really wasn't working.  Even so, I just didn't want to talk
to her about that.
	Still sitting straight underneath the Viper, I finally leaned
forward, putting my face in my hands.  Life was too complicated.  I
wanted the days back when I knew what I was doing in life, where I was
going.  I didn't have any more games to play with Sheba over my feelings,
but the games abounded with Poinciana.
	My quiet sanctuary was shattered as the lighting in the bay
brightened from the dusk to the red lights of an alert.  The klaxon
blared loudly as I crawled from beneath the ship, then hushed suddenly as
the intercom activated.  Tolen's voice echoed through the bay.  "Red
alert status.  All senior officers to the war room.  Repeat, we are
maintaining red alert status.  All senior officers and pilots report to
the war room immediately."
	I was there within ten centons to find that the meeting had already
started.  Judging by the various expressions on the faces of those
gathered, it wasn't good news.  Cain glared at me as he paused in his
speech, while I quickly slipped into the empty seat next to Starbuck. 
When he was satisfied that no more interruptions were going to occur, he
started again.
	"For the benefit of those who are late, I'll begin again."  Another
glare was shot in my direction, and I felt like sinking down to the
floor.  I was spared from actually having to do that when he continued. 
"We just received a message from Enaj and Reprie.  The Cymorth have made
an appearance, this time for more than the few centons that we recorded
earlier today.  They attacked a base that one of the Heimdall's clients
established about two star systems away from this one."
	So that was the purpose of the fleet we'd spotted!  I quickly asked,
"When did that occur?  And do we know the circumstances around the
attack?"
	His look told me that if I'd been there earlier, he would have
already given me all the details I needed.  Still, he continued.  "It
occurred apparently just a centar or two before your patrol picked the
Cymorth formation up on your scanners, Captain.  As for the
circumstances, Reprie couldn't be clear on it.  He wasn't sure whether
their allies, I believe they were the Hecubba, fired first on the
Cymorth, or if it was the opposite thing that happened."
	Hagan was sitting across the conference table from me, and he looked
very worried.  As for me, I was sort of stunned, but not very surprised. 
"So they're definitely hostile."
	"Not definitely," Sheelah cut in.  "There's still the possibility
that there was a misunderstanding."
	"If it was a misunderstanding, Captain," Cain pointed out, "then it
was a misunderstanding that more or less wiped out the Hecubba.  That's
why we don't have a complete picture -- those who were in charge are now
dead, according to Reprie."
	"What are we going to do?" Starbuck asked.  "That's the only
question that I think we can really ask now.  We're obviously not going
to get an answer right away about the attack on the Hecubba colony,
right?  So it's a moot point."
	"That's right," Poinciana said.  "If they're guilty of causing the
attack, we'll be ready to take them on.  If they weren't, and it was
indeed a misunderstanding, then that's fine."
	"That's exactly what we're going to do," Cain said, nodding at his
ex-lover.  I couldn't help but notice the pleased expression on
Poinciana's face at the agreement.  Maybe there was hope for my situation
after all.
	Meetings are short with Cain, and we were out of there almost
immediately after the commander's pronouncement.  I followed Starbuck out
of the war room, and by this time, I was ready to get some sleep. 
Chances were that we'd have a busy schedule of patrols starting in the
morning and I needed to be rested.
	"Apollo?  Apollo, wait up!"
	Oh, no.  It was her.  I continued walking as though I didn't hear
her, but Poinciana finally caught up to us and grabbed hold of my arm. 
Ignoring the surprised look on my friend's face, I turned to look at her.
	"Yes?"
	"I need to talk to you for a few centons," she began, then looked at
Starbuck.  "Alone."
	I began to protest politely, saying that I was too tired to talk to
her, but Starbuck interrupted anything that I could say.  "I'd better
head back to my quarters, but I'll see you for our patrol tomorrow.  Hey,
how about breakfast?"
	"Yes," I said, wanting to glare at him for leaving me dangling like
this.  Felgercarb!  "Breakfast would be fine."
	I watched him leave after he said his goodnights, and as I wondered
how I could convince the cook in the mess hall to put something
interesting on his tray, Poinciana cleared her throat.  I looked down at
her, feeling that familiar discomfort coming back to me.  I waited for
her to say something first.
	"It's about Meve," she began, and I let myself relax suddenly.  "I'm
going to be gone on an extended long range patrol in two days with
Sheelah and Bina, so I was wondering if you could keep your eye on her
while I'm gone."
	Ah, easy enough.  "Sure, no problem."
	Then there was an awkward pause, one of those moments where I wasn't
sure what was going to happen.  The image of me running away flashed
through my mind again, this time with actual animated foes chasing after
me.  I resisted the smile that was trying to tug at the corners of my
lips as I waited.
	"You know, Apollo," she said slowly, "you've always been so good to
me, especially with Meve.  I just feel that I've been taking your help
for granted, and that you'll just automatically be there when I need
someone to keep an eye on her."
	It was something I'd done often enough with my own friends with
Boxey, and I understood what she meant.  "I don't mind at all, Poinciana. 
She's a great kid, and I love spending time with her."
	"But you're always there, and often I barely give a thanks."  Her
blue eyes looked up at me with an expression that made me freeze.  "I
want to repay you.  Why don't we go over to the Harjuna and I can buy you
dinner?  And we can talk."
	My eyes widened slightly.  The Harjuna was a civilian ship that had
one of the best restaurants where I've ever had the pleasure of eating. 
Mother took me there the secton after I was discharged from the Life
Center when I first arrived, and I was just dying for an opportunity to
go back.  But this wasn't the opportunity that I was looking for.
	"No, thank you," I said politely, smiling slightly.  "You don't have
to do that, Poinciana.  I don't need any thanking.  Spending time with
Meve is all the thanks that I need."
	Something flashed in her eyes, but it was gone in a micron.  "Okay,
then.  Why don't we just go over as friends?"
	I shook my head.  "I'm busy in the next few days."
	Her eyes narrowed, and I knew that I'd crossed a line of some kind. 
She stared at me for a few microns, then very carefully, she said,
"You're holding out for her, aren't you?"
	I looked at her.  "Excuse me?"
	"For Sheba."  I didn't like the way she said her friend's name, and
I stood quietly, waiting for her to continue.  "Apollo, she thinks you're
dead, for Sagan's sake!"
	"I know," I said.  "And so did Starbuck, and so does the rest of my
family and friends.  But when we return to the fleet, they'll see that
I'm not."
	Oh, if only it were that simple, but at the time, it was really what
I hoped would happen.  There was silence between us, then she shook her
head.  "You actually believe that?"
	"What?"
	"That she'll take you back that easily?" she snorted.  She drew
herself up so she was at her full height, where the top of her head was
about the same level as my nose.  "Apollo, she's sealed to Bojay!  You
remember what that means?  There's that one phrase about all the
eternities?  She married him after you died!  She probably doesn't love
you anymore!"
	I stared at her in shock, unable to say anything.  Her eyes were the
color of a winter sky as she continued.  "Oh, I know you're the romantic,
Apollo!  You held onto Serina's memory for yahrens, letting that
interfere with the life you could have had with Sheba, and probably
making her sick to death with your yearning.  And now you're doing it
with her!  But she's moved on!  So why don't you?"
	I felt cold as I heard all of my fears about Sheba vocalized by
Poinciana.  She was nearly livid with me, with her face turning redder as
her voice raised in volume.  I was grateful that no one had come into the
corridor to interrupt us, but even so, her voice was probably being
carried to all corners of the battlestar.  I felt my face, already red,
begin to darken with more embarrassment.
	"Are you finished?" I asked.
	She glared at me, and I returned it equally.  "Aren't you going to
say anything for yourself?"
	"Yeah.  Good night!"  I turned on my heel and strode away from her
as fast as I could without running.  As soon as I knew that I'd left her
behind, I checked over my shoulder to see if she was following.  I just
about collapsed against the bulkhead in relief when I realized that she
wasn't.
	I made my way over to my quarters, but I soon had a better idea. 
Starbuck's quarters were on the way to mine, so I stopped off there.  I
rang the door chime three times, then knocked loudly on the door until
Starbuck answered it.  By his appearance that included mussed hair and a
semi-wrinkled uniform, I knew that he'd just collapsed onto his bed and
fallen immediately asleep.
	"Yeah, buddy?" he asked foggily, rubbing his eyes as he waited for
me to speak.  I just stared at him the way I used to when I was his
commanding officer.  When I didn't answer, he blinked.  "Apollo?  What's
wrong?  Do you want to come in?"
	"Starbuck.  Never, ever discuss my private life with anyone,
especially Poinciana.  Especially Poinciana."  I used a cold tone, and
Starbuck stared at me blankly.  "If you do, I will make sure that you
will never, ever live to go home.  Do you understand me clearly?"
	He nodded, his blue eyes wide.  "Uh, yeah, Apollo.  Why?  What
happened with Poinciana?"
	I didn't answer him.  I was in a foul humor, and I didn't trust
myself to stand around long enough to speak to him.  Kobol knew, we both
might end up being on report, because I knew that if provoked, I would
punch even my best friend in the universe.  I left without another word.
	And in a foul mood I remained for the next few days, and it
alleviated only while I was with Meve.  The poor girl didn't really
understand why I was being so quiet, but she did her best to make me
laugh.  She was also in a curious mood, and she asked very tentatively if
she could hear a story about her sister.  For Meve, I didn't mind at all.
	We spent a lot of time with each other, since Poinciana was being
sent on more and more deep probes.  The Cymorth were stepping up their
appearances, and Cain sent Poinciana's wing in on several fact-finding
missions.  My wing was being held in reserve after Hagan's.
	Starbuck approached me two days after I had confronted him.  I'd
been purposefully avoiding him, and he knew it.  He cornered me in the
mess hall when I was eating breakfast alone and parked himself directly
across from me.
	"I'm sorry," he said.
	I barely looked at him.  "You should be."
	"No, I mean it.  I really didn't realize that I'd be offending you." 
He glanced down at his kafe, then sighed.  "Look, I was just trying to
figure Poinciana out, and I guess I got a little too enthusiastic in our
discussion.  Now that I think about it, I ended up doing most of the
talking, because she gave these really short answers.  Come on, Apollo,
it's not like I did it on purpose or anything."
	"You never do anything on purpose," I told him, using my fork to
push the food around on my plate.  "And that's because you never think. 
You never have."
	He shrugged, then a slight grin played on his face as he leaned
forward.  "You know, buddy, I should have taken up your offer of being my
conscience.  But now I've got you to rein me in again."
	I smiled slightly.  "I suppose."
	"There we go, you're smiling again.  Friends?"
	"I suppose," I repeated, then finally held out my hand to him, which
he shook vigorously.  "Friends."
	If only all disagreements could be ended as easily as that.  I had
yet to talk to Poinciana about anything other than Meve or duty; and I
really wasn't looking forward to when that conversation would occur.  In
fact, I didn't even let anything drift off into that direction.
	But if anything, the argument with Poinciana had made me realize
that I was indeed living in the past; and I had been for most of my adult
life.  First with Zac, then with Serina, and now with Sheba.  There was
always the possibility that I would never see Sheba again, or if I did,
maybe she really didn't love me anymore, despite having raised my son. 
Either way, I had no reason or excuse beyond pure hope to keep on living
the way I was.  If I was going to remain single, then I'd remain single
without any longing.  Sheba was her own woman, and if she wanted me back,
then I would go.  If she didn't, well, I would still respect her wishes,
no matter how much it might hurt me.
	A secton after Poinciana confronted me, I was once again watching
over Meve while her mother was out in her Viper.  She was due to return
at twenty-two hundred, long after Meve was put to bed, so I just let her
sleep in my bed while I stayed in the living area.  I hadn't been feeling
well all evening, with a headache looming on the horizon.  I was due for
my regular appointment with Doctor Tomalea in a few days, and I was now
considering an early visit.
	After a centar of abortive attempts at reading, I glanced at the
chrono to see that it was past twenty-two, going on past twenty-three. 
Where was Poinciana?  My head was really beginning to hurt, and I didn't
feel like waiting up for her to return.  Grabbing a spare blanket, I
arranged the cushions on the sofa to make a comfortable pillow, then lay
down.  It didn't take long for me to drift into a dreamless sleep.
	I was shaken awake what felt like a short time later.  My headache
was still there, and being jarred didn't help it at all.  Warily, I
opened my eyes to see Starbuck's worried face directly in front of me. 
He sighed in what appeared to be relief when he saw that I was awake.
	"What's going on?" I asked, hearing more people in my quarters. 
Tomalea was hovering over Starbuck's shoulder, and behind her was Cain. 
Oh, just what I needed.  "Where's Meve?"
	"You scared the pogees out of us!" Starbuck proclaimed, much to my
confusion.  "Poinciana arrived late to pick up Meve, and when she rang
your door chime, you didn't answer.  After a few more tries, she panicked
and called me, Tomalea and Cain."
	"We've been trying to wake you for the past five centons," Tomalea
added.  It appeared that Poinciana's call had pulled the doctor out of
her bed, since she was clad in a robe.  "Are you all right?  Did you take
anything or drink anything?  Starbuck did mention that you've been very
emotional for the last few days, and so..."
	Her voice trailed off as she waited for a response from me. 
Wonderful, now they were thinking that I had done something deliberately
to myself.  I groggily sat up, rubbing my face with my hands.
	"I've just got a headache, that's all.  I was just trying to sleep
it off."  I looked up.  "Is Meve all right?"
	Cain nodded.  "Poinciana took her back to their quarters, but she's
a little upset.  I'll tell her that you're all right."
	"Thanks."  I jumped as I felt something hiss against my neck, and I
looked at Tomalea curiously.  "What's that for?"
	"You can't complete your mission in that condition," Starbuck said,
drawing the sheet away from my body.  "Come on, up you go."
	"Mission?  What mission?" I asked as Starbuck helped me up. 
Whatever Tomalea had given me was mercifully working quickly, and I was
feeling better already.  "What time is it?"
	"Two hundred centars," Cain said.  There was something about the way
he was quietly standing there that told me that something serious had
come up.  "Poinciana's patrol was late because they came across
something.  They found a drifting Shelborn ship, in the middle of the
region of space with the most recent Cymorth activity."
	"Shelborn?  Let me guess, I'm needed because I'm the only one
familiar with that type of ship?"  I wasn't surprised, but it really
wasn't what I wanted to do in the middle of the night.
	"Exactly," the commander nodded.
	"Hagan's waiting with a team down in the bay," Starbuck explained as
we moved out of my quarters into the hallway.  "He didn't want to go in
until you were there."
	"I'm honored," I muttered.
	In the three yahrens since I had last been a pilot for the Shelborn,
I hadn't seen them other than during the occasional raid they made. 
Whenever those occurred, I didn't dare do anything that would make my
origins known, because I knew what would happen.  I remembered how on the
planet where Siap and I had crashed every trace of our presence was
removed, and even how the implant was removed from Siap before his body
was incinerated.  To me, there was no doubt about what would happen if
the Shelborn ever got their hands on me again, and it wouldn't be
something I could return from.  I would be dead, no doubt about it.
	The Shelborn ship was sitting in the landing bay, cornered off from
main area.  The ship was recognizable as the same type of five-level
freighter that had brought me to the final Shelborn battle, and even from
the entrance of the bay, I could see the carbon scoring on the hull that
spoke of a space battle.
	"It's been confirmed that there are no life signs," Hagan called as
our group approached him.  The colonel was standing not that very far
away from the ship, and Bina was with him.  "But the atmosphere's
breathable as far as we can tell."
	"What about power?" I asked.  "Are the ship's systems up and
running, or are we going to have to do major repairs?"
	"Some systems are running," Sheelah reported, coming up to us from
another direction.  In her hand, she held a scanner that was still doing
readouts.  "Most of the main computers are down, along with their
defenses.  Life support, however, is still working perfectly."
	Cain nodded.  "Very well.  Go in, but be careful.  I want reports
every ten centons; earlier if you discover something.  Understood?"
	We all nodded, and Hagan began issuing orders.  "I'm going down with
Sheelah to the engine room to see if we can restore some of the systems. 
Starbuck, take Bina to go looking around the main decks of the ship to
see if you can see what happened.  And Apollo?"
	I nodded.  "The bridge is mine?"
	"Exactly.  Take the data containers and Barthel with you."
	"And get everything you can from the computers," Cain added, giving
me a serious look.  "And if you see any information about the Cymorth..."
	"I'll make that a priority, sir," I promised as I picked up the
large storage units that I would download all the information into.  With
one in each hand, I looked over at the colonel.  "Shall we go in?"
	He nodded, then we headed over to the decon chamber attached to the
ship.  Very carefully, we entered into the dusky hallway.  I could hear
Starbuck groan.  "Nobody bothered to check for the lights, huh?"
	A few hand lamps were pulled out, and areas of the corridor were
flooded with bright lights.  We were at a junction in the corridor, and I
knew from experience that there was a lift down the other side of the
hallway.
	"Where to?" Hagan asked me.
	"I think the engine room is somewhere at the bottom of the ship, but
the bridge is two decks up."  I glanced at the bulkhead for a micron,
then looked at Starbuck.  "If you want, you can start here."
	"At the very beginning," he nodded.
	"It's a very good place to start," Hagan agreed.
	"Only because it's closer to the exit," Starbuck joked, but I shot
him a hard look at the morbid joke.  That was just what we needed to hear
in a ghost ship.  "Sorry."
	"Where's the lift?" Sheelah asked, and I inclined my head in the
proper direction.  We separated from Starbuck and quickly made our way
down the corridor, and miraculously, the lift was working.  We first
dropped Hagan and Sheelah at the bottom where the engine room was
located, and then we were headed up for the bridge.
	Almost immediately, lights began activating, and I squinted at the
sudden brightness.  The lights were accompanied by Starbuck's voice over
the comunits attached to our belts.
	"Well," he said a little sardonically.  "I'm glad I wasn't here for
the fun.  It looks like they were attacked, boarded, then forced off the
ship.  I'm in the crew area, or the Shelborn version of it, anyway. 
There's a lot of carbon scoring in here, but there's no sign of any
bodies."
	"Are you sure?" Hagan asked.
	"More or less.  Bodies aren't really something you can miss, even in
the dark.  We still don't have full lighting here, by the way."  Starbuck
paused, and I recalled that my friend still hadn't seen any of this
species of aliens yet.  "Funny looking stuff here, though.  There aren't
any beds."
	I put one of the units down so I could activate my comlink.  "They
sleep standing up, Starbuck."
	"Comfortable.  I -- huh?"  There was something in the background,
then he spoke again.  "Just a centon, Bina's found something.  What is
it?  There's a dark mark against the wall on the ground.  It's big,
whatever it is.  Bina, pull out the scanner and check it out."
	By that time, we were at the bridge.  Most of the lights were on,
and Barthel informed Hagan of our situation.  He inquired about the
computers, and I approached them to take a look.  They all appeared to be
on-line, which Barthel relayed, but I had a second look at them. 
Something was wrong.  These weren't the same kind of computers I had used
three yahrens before.  The links were there to connect into, dangling at
each station, but the computers themselves were different.
	"Oh, frak," I muttered, looking over at Barthel.  "The Shelborn have
upgraded!"
	"Will that cause much of a problem?" he wanted to know.
	"Not yet.  These storage units can work with any system, as long as
it has a common starting point.  Since it's familiar with Cylon
technology, which the Shelborn base theirs on, we shouldn't have much
problems."  I brought the first unit over to the navigation computer and
connected that to the link.  A display came onto the station's monitor,
and I ordered it to download everything from the last three sectars.  
	"That's good, I guess," he said, not moving from the entrance until
he squinted and peered at the deck.  "What the frak is that?"
	"What's what?" I asked from where I was connecting the second unit
to the combined science and communications station.
	He pointed wordlessly, and I looked in the direction his finger was
pointing at.  There was a trail of blood leading from the furthest back
station, streaking out near Barthel's current location where it suddenly
stopped to end in a blackened area.  It was smeared in a few places,
telling us that others had walked in the blood while it was drying.
	"We've got a positive id on the black substance," Starbuck's voice
spoke up.  "It's organic, and Bina says that it used to be a Shelborn."
	"We've got the same story here," Barthel spoke.
	"Apollo, see if you can find out who attacked the ship," Hagan said. 
"Make an effort in learning that, but don't detract from the other
searches."
	"I'll see what I can do," I replied, not feeling very confident. 
The best station to access that would be the captain's chair, and I
stared at that.  This wasn't going to turn out too well.  The display was
small, and there weren't that many controls.  It was more or less a
holographic station, meaning that I'd have to be connected to the
computer, and I had no idea what that would mean to me.
	"Well?" Barthel asked.
	"Uh, go back and get more storage units," I told him.  "I'll be fine
here."
	He nodded, then went into the lift.  I waited until the lift had
left the deck before turning back to the station.  Barthel would be gone
for about ten centons, meaning that I would be alone for that long.  If
something went wrong with the connection, I would be helpless.  I brushed
aside any thoughts about calling for Starbuck's assistance, knowing that
he was busy trying to do his share of solving the mystery of the missing
Shelborn.  I'd be fine, if I didn't stay connected for too long.
	Taking a deep breath, I sat in the too-familiar chair, feeling it
grip my body.  The connection lay next to my right hand, and with the
greatest reluctance, I reached out to grasp it in my fingers.  I stared
at the plug, remembering the others times I had been connected to a
Shelborn craft; how much it had hurt at times when I strained myself.
	But now, like then, I had no choice.  I had caught the hint that it
was the Cymorth who had attacked this ship, and this was very likely the
only way Cain, Mother and the war quorum would get the answers they
needed to find out about these mysterious Cymorth.  Even if I just found
one clue about them, it would be more than a few sectars' worth of deep
probes could accomplish.
	Without a second thought, I connected myself to the computer.  A
shudder ran through my body as parts of my brain that hadn't been touched
in three yahrens suddenly began receiving data.  I was out of shape,
there was no doubt about that, and there was still no telling what kind
of interaction the computer would have with my older implant.
	Around me, the holographic display came to life, and it took me
several microns to get adjusted to the disorientating environment before
I could properly see what was being shown.  I was in the main system, and
before long, I filtered through the stuff I didn't need before I came
upon the logs and the scanner banks.  Information started pouring through
the connection, and I tried to stay caught up to it.  A lot of it slipped
by, but I tried to absorb it, anyway.
	I was saved a great bother by being almost immediately greeted by
the name "Cymorth" being frequently mentioned in recent entries.  Bits of
information came through, mostly reports of mysterious sightings by some
raiders in several systems from here.  Nothing more than reports of a
great ship that slipped by without any problems while the Shelborn ship
tried to catch up.
	One file caught my eye, and I opened it.  It was a vid display, and
when it was activated, I saw the familiar sight of the massive Cymorth
ship with its escort of smaller craft.  But instead of fleeing like they
did with my patrol, this group was advancing at an enormous speed on the
Shelborn ship.
	My headache was beginning to make a comeback after only a few
centons of being connected, but I tried to ignore it as the vid
continued.  A number of the smaller ships were leaving their fleet to
approach the Shelborn ship.  I felt the pilot's alarm as my own, knowing
that he or she would try to get out of the aliens' way and disappear
before they were caught.
	The Cymorth ships were too fast for the Shelborn.  In a blink of the
eye, they were surrounding it in an unbreakable pattern that was
unavoidable.  Two fired on the ship, while a third held back to watch. 
The defenses were almost immediately taken out, then third ship moved
around to their victim's outer hatch, where they began to penetrate the
ship.  They were invading.
	I watched in horror as the vid switched scene from the exterior to
the interior.  The lights were already fading, but the Cymorth didn't
seem to be affected by the lack of light.  They stormed in, their weapons
firing.  They were humanoid like the Shelborn and the Heimdall, but they
were definitely alien.  Even if their faces were obscured in the dusk, I
felt frightened by them.  It was as though they purposefully emanated
that from themselves.
	With a conscious effort, I bypassed all the computer systems and
made the connection for the vid to begin downloading into the data unit. 
I had no idea how much time had elapsed, but I knew that there was a
problem with the connection.  Although it was fine other than the
returning headache, the display was now beginning to blur slightly in
places.  Eventually, I would have to stop, or else I'd suffer for the
mistake.
	But in the meantime, I continued.  A new vid was a collection of
information on the invaders, mostly statistics on the apparent eight
beings who boarded the ship and either killed or captured the twenty-five
Shelborn aboard.  Cain was going to be so happy to see this information,
I knew.  Almost in a frenzied state, I began searching for more
information in the database.
	Vaguely, I heard the door to the lift open, and two pairs of
footsteps came into the bridge.  Barthel and who else?  I couldn't afford
to look at him, even to speak to him.  I had to finish this, even though
my eyes were on fire and my head was going to explode.  The information
was beginning to come fast and furious now, and though most of it didn't
really have any importance, I still had to keep watch for anything
important.
	"Apollo!"  Starbuck's angry voice cut into my thoughts, and I knew
that he was looking at me.  Only my left side was visible to him, so he
couldn't see the implant and where I was connected.  "Apollo, what in
Hades' in going on?  Hagan and I have been trying to contact you for the
last fifteen centons!  You have to stop doing that, because --  What's
wrong with your nose?"
	I'd felt something warm slowly building in my nose, tickling my
nostrils, but I'd managed to ignore it.  Now, with part of my
concentration jarred by Starbuck's arrival, I reached up with my right
hand to touch the skin between the base of my nose and my upper lip.  It
was damp to the touch, and when I looked at my fingers, I could see
blood.  That was a bad sign...  I wouldn't last very much longer, and I
had to get as much information as I could.
	But there was so much more to go through!
	Starbuck was getting impatient with me, not that he was patient to
begin with.  He waited for a few microns after the discovery of the blood
for an answer, but as I turned my attention back to computers again, he
reached forward and touched my shoulder.  His grip was strong, intended
to bring my focus to him.
	"Please, Apollo, please talk to me.  You're scaring me, buddy!"  He
shook my shoulder, then noticed the active station I was at, then the two
operating data units.  "You've got the information downloading.  That's
great, but what about you?  What's happening with you?"
	By that time, sweat was beginning to form on my face, especially
when I began to feel slight stabs of pain in my head over the ache that
was steadily building.  No, I had to keep focusing.
	The Cymorth vid had finished downloading, and I directed more and
more data into the unit.  The important information had to go in there,
once I found it.  I needed plans, schematics, intelligence on what the
Pegasus might encounter in the space ahead of us, and that was exactly
what the Shelborn would have in store here.  Gritting my teeth, I
directed everything that looked important into the computer.
	I heard Starbuck move around me until he was on the right side.  He
gasped as he saw that I was connected to the computers, along with my
strained appearance.  I must have been quite the sight, because his voice
took on a desperate tone.
	"Apollo, what are you doing?  Are you trying to get yourself
killed?"  He reached forward and grasped my arm, holding it tightly,
trying to break my concentration so I would look at him.  "For Sagan's
sake, answer me!"
	Barthel joined in, his voice having a timbre of fear in it. 
"Starbuck, the computers are too advanced for his implant.  I think he's
having an overload."
	"Dear Kobol," he whispered, his grip tightening.  "Apollo..."
	It was difficult for me to speak with so much of my attention
diverted on the display, along with the increasing pain in my head. 
"Starbuck...  I found what we need...  I have information on the
Cymorth...  I saw them!"
	"You look like felger, Apollo!  What's that implant doing to you?"
he demanded.
	"I'm... fine," I lied.  "I can handle it...  I'm just out of...
practice."
	"Oh, sure.  You think I looked bad playing Triad again?  You look
worse!  Your face is pale, you've got a nose bleed, and you're acting
like a man possessed.  Disconnect yourself, for Kobol's sake!"
	I had to ignore him as I noticed something that dealt with humans. 
Beside the odd mention of the Pegasus and her fleet that held little
consequence, I discovered something that made me sit forward.
	"What?" Starbuck asked, watching my reaction.
	"Coordinates alpha-nine-seven, vector eighty-nine," I said quickly
as I fed it into the computer again.  "There's a colony of humans there,
and they've been attacked by Cylons.  The Shelborn are -- Oh my God!"
	I brought my hands up to my head as the implant finally gave up its
struggle to adapt to the upgraded Shelborn computers.  The holographic
display shattered into bits of light before fading into nothing, while my
head felt like it would explode.  There was pain all over, and my vision
started fading in and out.  I heard a click that told me that Starbuck
had all but yanked the connection away from my implant, leaving me
sitting in the chair stiff as a rod before I crumpled.
	I felt Starbuck's arms catch me as I fell, and he lowered me to the
deck.  I still had my hands on my head, trying to squish it back to its
normal size.  I was positive that it had ballooned out to gargantuan
dimensions.  It was the only way to describe the pain I was in.
	"Apollo!" Starbuck shouted, his voice loud in my ear.  "Are you all
right?  Answer me!"
	"Help me, Starbuck," I moaned, feeling my grasp on the world
slipping.  "Get me... to the Life Center.  Please..."
	Barthel, who had otherwise been watching the proceedings in shock,
had his communicator out by then.  He all but shouted into it.  "Doctor
Tomalea, this is Lieutenant Barthel.  We need a full medical team in the
landing bay now!  Captain Apollo's been injured, and it's his implant."
	"We don't know where you are," the doctor's voice came back.  "Is it
just the implant that's the problem?"
	"Yes, ma'am!"
	"Can you bring him out yourselves?"
	Starbuck nodded from where he was holding me to him.  "I can."
	"Then we'll meet you there."
	I gasped as a stronger pain went through my head, and I knew it
wouldn't be long before I completely blacked out.  Even though it hurt
like Hades, there was one thing I needed to do before surrendering myself
to the comforting blackness, and that had to do with Starbuck.  I had to
show him that I was all right, despite all appearances.
	"Okay, buddy, we've got to get you out of here," Starbuck told me,
sliding his arms under my shoulders and knees, then he lifted me with a
soft grunt.  He held me tightly as he adjusted my weight in his arms. 
"Just hang on, okay?  I'm not going to let you go."
	I peered through the haze that surrounded us, my hands still
pressing against the sides of my head.  "I'm not... going... anywhere
yet...  Just make sure... they go... look at the... colony... right?"
	"I'll make sure they do just that," he promised, sounding like he
was close to tears as we entered the lift.  Oh, frak, that was the last
thing I needed.  The last time he'd held me in his arms, I was dying, and
despite any wishes to the contrary, I wasn't about to die here.  I hoped
not, anyway.  "Apollo, just hang on."
	"I'll see you later..." I told him, "after I wake up...  And make
sure that... my head... gets back... to its... normal size... buddy..."
	The joke was funny to me, anyway, and with a short laugh that was
more of a stifled moan that didn't quite make it as a new wave of pain
hit me, I closed my eyes.  The blackness enveloped my consciousness
immediately after that.

Part 9 - Fumbling

	Cain's quarters were quiet as the commander ran through the Cymorth
vid for the umpteenth time, and that was just during the time they had
gathered for the meeting.  Starbuck knew the events that were portrayed
on the recording as well as anything.  He could tell exactly what the
aliens had done when they invaded the Shelborn ship, and even in what
sequence.  It was a set of events that every high ranking officer on the
Pegasus had committed to memory.
	He had to admit that it was a good thing that the vid was digitized,
and not on an actual tape.  With the way Cain ran through it over and
over and over again, while pausing in places for centons, any tape would
have worn out within the first day Cain got his hands on it.  And after
two sectons, there would have been nothing left.
	There wasn't much that could be done to improve the poor quality of
the recording.  The poor lighting on the ship, along with some static
inserted by the Shelborn computer, had made it very difficult to tell
much about the Cymorth themselves, other than their actions.  The
computechs had been up at all centars, trying to clear up the images.
	Cain had also ordered that several copies be made, so others could
see them.  A copy had been sent to the fleet's biologists and
anthropologists, to see if they could ascertain anything else from the
vid.  So far, no reports had been handed in.  The members of the war
quorum had one each, as well, and Starbuck didn't want to count how many
copies there actually were in the fleet.
	But so far, the vid and all the other information collected from the
Shelborn ship were worth the price they had paid.  Still, Starbuck
wondered if the price still wasn't too high.  Although Apollo was out of
danger, and there appeared to be no permanent damage from the overload
his implant had gone through, he was still unconscious after two sectons. 
Starbuck still couldn't shake the image of Apollo collapsing on the
Shelborn bridge, the computer connected to his implant, while his nose
was bleeding.  It was the blood that Starbuck couldn't get out of his
mind; he wondered how much blood a person could actually lose through
their nose, since it seemed to keep on running out of his nostrils for
countless centons after his collapse.
	Sighing, Starbuck watched as the Shelborn on the vid began to scream
as the Cymorth fired on them.  The beings were collected together to be
herded off the ship, their destination unknown.  A few were incinerated
by the Cymorth weapons, while one of the bridge officers was pierced by
some kind of instrument, nearly bleeding to death while he was dragged
across the deck and finally incinerated.
	The vid stopped as the screen froze on a frame.  It was the best
image of a Cymorth face, with the humanoid features barely visible in the
bad light.  A nose, mouth, and at least two eyes.  The computechs had
succeeded in clearing up the vid to show this, but that was it.  Any
further attempts blurred the images.  Nevertheless, there was a sense of
familiarity with the invaders, and Starbuck didn't like it at all.
	"Commander," Hagan said wearily as he, Starbuck, Sheelah and Bina
all stood at attention in Cain's office.  Poinciana was off running an
errand for the commander, which probably involved harassing one of the
scientists for their results; Apollo, of course, was in the Life Center
with Ila.  "Commander?  What's the purpose of this meeting?  Has some new
information come through?"
	Not taking his eyes off the monitor, Cain waited before giving his
reply.  "What expression do you think that Cymorth has on his face?"
	Sheelah cleared her throat.  "Sir, that might not be a good thing to
speculate on.  An emotion that we might perceive to be happiness may be
anger; amusement could be fright."
	"I know, Captain, but we need to try to understand these Cymorth." 
He unfroze the vid to let it continue with more violence, then paused it
on another Cymorth.  "But what about him?  Or her?  Or it, or whatever in
Hades that alien might be.  Are they under orders?  Are they doing this
of their own free will?"
	"They're aggressive," Bina replied, her voice slightly timid.  She
shrugged her shoulders slightly.  "That much is obvious, sir."
	"But for every action, there's a reason, Lieutenant."  Cain sighed. 
"By watching it again and again and again, we might be able to pick up
some clue; some hint of why this occurred.  Did the Shelborn start it, or
did the Cymorth invade them for no reason?  We need a motive for their
behavior."
	"Have we heard anything from the Heimdall?" Starbuck asked, agreeing
with the Commander.  "Do they know about what Apollo discovered?  Maybe
they have some new information about the other Cymorth attacks.  Or
something, anything, that could help.  Maybe if we put our heads
together..."
	"I sent a message to Enaj not that very long ago, the second or
third time this secton alone."  Cain turned the vid off, and the normal
display of the Pegasus' functions reappeared.  Leaning back in his chair,
he sighed loudly.  "I've either received no response, or a message from
Enaj telling me that he'll get back to us."
	"That's strange," Sheelah frowned, casting a glance at Hagan. 
"Usually they're very willing to meet with us right away, especially when
we're in direct communications range with us."
	"They're probably in as much of an uproar as we are," Hagan
suggested.  "The Cymorth seemed to have them pretty scared when we last
met with Enaj and Reprie.  They had a full envoy, instead of the usual
one-man party, remember?"
	"No, this is unusual," Bina said.  "I mean, most of us here, except
for Starbuck and the Commander, have worked with Enaj personally.  He's
never been this distant."
	"So something is up," Sheelah summarized.
	"Well, I'll try them again," Cain replied, his voice showing that he
doubted that they would get a response.  "In the meantime, we should call
another war quorum in the next few days."
	Starbuck watched as the other three pilots rolled their eyes.  They
all knew that without full and complete information, the quorum was
completely unable to make any decisions until they learned more.  All
they did was sit for fifteen centons as Cain announced to the assembled
members that nothing had been learned, the data was still being analyzed,
and all precautions against Cymorth contact were being taken.
	"Of course," Hagan said wryly.  After the last meeting, the colonel
had muttered that the only reason the quorum was called was to assuage
the fears of the fleet's populace.  Despite all precautions, word had
leaked out about the Cymorth and their possible role as an aggressor
against the fleet.  All the quorum did was to confirm their fears.
	Cain shot him a hard look, then sighed.  "Yes, I admit that I'm
worried, too.  It's not a good sign when your only allies are beginning
to act very suspiciously.  Well, that's all for now.  Poinciana should be
speaking to the scientists as we speak, so hopefully she'll be bringing
back some good news."
	"That's all, sir?" Sheelah asked, and the Commander nodded.  "Very
well.  I suggest that we meet back later this afternoon."
	"Agreed.  I'll meet you all here at fifteen hundred.  Dismissed." 
Cain turned his attention from his subordinates to the reports sitting on
his desk, listening to them depart.  He sensed that not all of them had
left, and he looked up to see Starbuck staring directly at him.  He
sighed.  "Yes, Lieutenant?"
	"I was just wondering, sir, about what you planned to do with the
coordinates Apollo obtained."  Starbuck paused as he studied Cain's face. 
He wasn't exactly sure what he expected the Commander to do, even if he
remembered what they were.  The Cymorth issue had absorbed so much of his
energy that he had little for anything else, be it the other functions of
running a battlestar, or even as his duties as Meve's father.  "The
coordinates for the human colony?"
	"Ah, yes.  Well, Lieutenant, if you'll notice, we'll be going
slightly off course if we head in that direction.  We're heading toward
vector ninety-five, not eighty-nine."  It was the same argument Cain had
used earlier, the first time that Starbuck had brought up the issue, but
then, he hadn't the nerve to pursue it further.  Apollo's collapse had
taken a lot out of him.
	"Sir, I suggest that we go in that direction.  Apollo was pretty
adamant about us going there, and he did say that the inhabitants were
human."  He paused before making his point.  "Besides, they may very well
be from the fleet."
	Cain's expression was skeptical.  "Oh?"
	"Besides picking up Apollo and myself from the respective planets we
crashed upon, how many other humans have you encountered after Gamoray?"
	"Besides some pests that called themselves the Eastern Alliance?" 
Cain shook his head.  "Only you two."
	"That's what I thought.  Now, all of the sudden, fourteen yahrens
after Gamoray, we pick up hints of a human world.  It may be slightly off
course, but it is in the same general direction we're heading in." 
Starbuck paused before he made his final point.  "They have to be from
the Galactica's fleet."
	"I suppose," he reluctantly said.  "All right, we'll swing over
there.  Maybe that's closer to the Galactica's real heading than what
we're taking."
	"Thank you, sir."  Starbuck sighed.  "I'm sure you won't regret
that."
	"I'm sure I will in the end," Cain replied, a sardonic grin on his
face.  "After all, I'll most likely end up adding onto my collection of
intergalactic space loiters.  Starbuck?"
	Surprised at the use of his name rather than his rank, Starbuck had
just turned to leave the room, but now he faced the older man again. 
"Yes, sir?"
	"I assume you're headed down to the Life Center, correct?"
	It didn't take a psychic to know what Starbuck planned to do after
leaving the commander's quarters.  "Yes."
	"I thought as much.  Ila's been holding vigil over Apollo since the
micron she arrived after his collapse.  Now, I know I'd be in there, too,
if it were Sheba who were in a coma, but I also know that someone would
be in there trying to drag me out of there so I could get some rest."  He
paused, searching Starbuck's face.  His voice took on an earnest tone. 
"Get Tomalea to get her to leave, but only after you first try to
negotiate.  And tell Tomalea that I'll make sure that she gets some food
into her, and also some rest."
	Starbuck raised an eyebrow slightly.  "Of course, sir."
	"Don't give me that expression, Starbuck.  Adama was my closest
friend on the Cerberus, and I owe it to him to make sure his wife is well
enough so they can have a beautiful reunion.  That, and I feel
responsible for the condition Apollo's in now.  If I hadn't pushed him
with being certain to find information about the Cymorth, he wouldn't
have connected himself to the computers."
	"I don't think that would have made much of a difference, sir,"
Starbuck replied.  "He knew how much you need any bit of information
about the Cymorth, and he did what he felt was necessary."
	"I suppose."  Cain sighed, then smiled.  "I'll see you later."
	Nodding, Starbuck hurried out of the quarters, only to run into
Sheelah.  The captain had been waiting outside of Cain's quarters, and
the micron Starbuck stepped out, she greeted him with a smile.
	"Hey, Starbuck," she said in a friendly tone.  "Mind if I come with
you to the Life Center?"
	"Uh, no, I guess not."  He glanced at her as they began walking. 
There was nothing about the brown-haired captain that hinted at her
reason for accompanying him.  He chided himself for thinking that.  After
Poinciana and her unrequited attraction toward Apollo, Starbuck found
himself looking at women with a more critical eye.  "Mind if I ask why?"
	"Just to check in on Apollo," she replied.  "I miss not having him
around to tease.  Besides, Poinciana's been morose since his little
accident, if you could call it that.  I wanted to see how he's doing."
	"Ah."  He nodded.  No harm with that, though he was tempted to wish
that Apollo would remain in his coma for another few sectons, if only to
keep Poinciana unsteady.  "So you know about her attraction?"
	"Attraction, obsession, whatever."  Sheelah shook her head.  "She's
been reeling since Cain, Starbuck.  Besides, I'm her best friend and her
wingmate.  Is there anything you would keep secret from Apollo?  Nothing,
right?"
	He nodded.  "Yeah, you have a point there."
	"Besides, if there was a romance, I doubt it would last.  Poinciana
needs someone more..."  She paused, thinking about how to form her
comment.  Starbuck found himself growing curious about what she was going
to say.  "She needs someone who is more, shall we say, outgoing.  I've
seen the lighter side to Apollo, but even so, he's just too serious.  In
fact, he's not even Poinciana's type."
	"And Cain is more her type?"
	"Yeah, basically.  So it was a big shock to me when she told me that
she was in love with Apollo."  She adopted a rueful expression.  "I feel
sorry for the guy, myself, since I know she's rather insistent when she
wants something.  Besides, he's probably so turned off that he won't look
at another woman unless she's Sheba."
	"Oh?  You like him, too?"
	"What's there not to like?  He's a woman's dream, Starbuck. 
Handsome, intelligent, loyal, a good sense of humor...  I think half the
women on this battlestar have their eye on him."  Sheelah laughed,
grinning.  "In fact, if anything, Poinciana's scared them all off.  So
maybe he should be thankful."
	"Maybe, maybe not."
	The doors to the Life Center were just ahead, and the two warriors
stopped their conversation as they approached the entrance.  Apollo was
in a room separate from the main area of the Life Center, and they headed
in that direction.  Seeing Doctor Tomalea in her office along the way,
Starbuck paused long enough to relay the message from Cain about Ila.  A
relieved smile crossed the doctor's tired features.
	"Thank Kobol," she replied.  "The Siress has been here for the last
twenty centars, but she's rebuffed any attempts to get her to leave.  Now
that I have Cain's permission, well...  If I don't see her leave within
fifteen centons, I'm going in there."
	"Yes, ma'am!" Starbuck saluted, hearing Sheelah giggle beside him. 
Without another word, they entered the room.
	Ila looked up as soon as the door opened to admit them, and she
smiled in greeting.  She was back in her usual spot, directly next to
Apollo's lifepod, holding onto her son's hand as she waited for him to
regain consciousness.
	"Hello, Starbuck, Sheelah," she greeted, then looked down at Apollo. 
There was really nothing to show that he'd gone through the overload --
no injuries, nothing.  The only hint that something was wrong was the
scanners that were attached to Apollo's body, especially on his head. 
His brainscan was visible on a nearby monitor, shown with a complicated
display, while a second monitor was doing an on-going diagnosis on the
implant.
	"How is he?" Sheelah asked, looking down at Apollo.  He was so
still, but he looked so much better now than he did when he first arrived
in the Life Center.  For several days after the accident, Apollo had
looked like Hades, with dark circles that looked as though his eyes were
about to sink into his skull; and pale skin that made both the circles
and his dark hair even darker.  Now, he looked more like he was sleeping;
a indeterminable repose that no one could rouse him from.
	"About the same."  Ila sighed, stroking Apollo's hand absently as
she spoke.  "Tomalea said today that there isn't any actual damage to his
brain; just that the overload caused his entire brain to swell, which
caused the nose bleed and the coma."
	"But it's going down?" Starbuck pressed, placing himself at Apollo's
side, opposite from Ila.  On impulse, he reached out to grasp his
friend's other hand, and he tried not to grimace at the feel of Apollo's
limp fingers.  It was just too much like holding the dead body back on
the planet where Apollo died.
	"Yes, thank Kobol."  Ila sighed as she looked at her son's quiet
face.  "And once it's down, he should be fine."
	"What about the implant?" Sheelah asked, standing at the foot of
Apollo's bed.  She leaned against the wall as she spoke.  "Is it still
functioning?"
	Ila's blue eyes flickered over to the second display, at the
information that continuously scrolled down.  She wished she could
understand what it meant.  "I think it is, but I have no idea what it
means, whether it's just barely functioning, or if it's trying to recover
just like he is.  Or even if that's a good thing or not.  I wish I
knew..."
	With that, her voice faded into silence as she resumed her watch
over her son's still body, making both Sheelah and Starbuck rather
uncomfortable.  That, and he had a question to ask.  "Why don't they just
remove the implant?  I mean, he goes to the Life Center ever secton to
get the tendrils or whatever they are out of the vital parts of his
brain.  Why don't they just kill the whole thing and let him be in
peace?"
	Letting out a slight breath, Ila sighed.  "We can't do that.  When
they first tried to remove the implant, they tried to remove the entire
thing.  First, they learned that they had to keep him sedated; but
then...  After they removed the tendrils, they tried to take the entire
implant out."
	Watching as she paused, Starbuck found himself wondering what
exactly had transpired.  When Ila looked reluctant to continue, he felt
that he had to push her that way.  "They tried to take the entire implant
out, and...?"
	"It nearly killed him," Sheelah spoke for Ila.  "According to
Tomalea, his life signs dropped almost down to nothing, and the micron
they stopped what they were doing, the readings jumped back up to normal. 
The frakking thing is alive, Starbuck, and it won't completely let go."
	"Alive?"  Starbuck raised an eyebrow.  "I know that it's partially
biological, but alive?  You make it sound like it's sentient."
	"I think it is, and I don't care what they say.  Technology that's
hard to remove is one thing, but something that fights like mad to stay
inside its host?  That's a parasite; it's alive.  And..."  Sheelah
sighed.  "It's a good thing it's not in my head.  I'd probably go insane
after the first sectar."
	Nodding slightly, Starbuck looked again at his friend's face, then
at Ila.  Before silence could descend on the room again, his attention
was attracted by Sheelah's meaningful look as she inclined her head
toward Ila, then raised her eyebrows in emphasis.
	He nodded to show that he understood, then moved around Apollo's bed
so he could stand next to Ila.  She glanced up at him, and he could see
how tired she was.  "Yes, Starbuck?"
	"Why don't you let me watch over him for a while?" he urged gently,
offering his hand to help her up.  For the moment, she just looked at him
with an expression that he recalled seeing many times on Apollo's face. 
"You need to get some sleep, or else you're going to be in here right
next to Apollo."
	"I'm fine," she replied, and Starbuck had to force himself to keep
from laughing.  Like mother, like son...  At least he had experience
dealing with Apollo, so he'd be ready for any resistance she might give
him.
	"Siress...  Ila," he said, bending down to speak to her quietly. 
"I'd better warn you...  Tomalea and her two medtechs, Kaguya and
Leonore, are ready to come in here and ambush you if I don't deliver you
out the doorway.  And Cain's on their side, too, so I'd be careful."
	"Starbuck, you're forgetting who my husband is," she said wryly. 
"If I can handle Adama, I can handle anything Cain or Tomalea can throw
my way.  If the children were sick while he was home on furlon, he would
stay up with them all night.  I had to drag him off to bed so he wouldn't
be sick, himself."
	"The Commander is one thing, but Cain and the whole team of
medtechs?"  Starbuck shook his head.  "I don't know...  I'd rather see a
full flight of Cylons than face that.  Plus, Apollo's not going to be too
happy with you if he hears that you worried yourself sick."
	Giving Starbuck a tolerant smile, Ila didn't budge.  Knowing Apollo,
Starbuck knew exactly what to expect.  His friend would fight and scream
until he was overpowered, and Starbuck had no doubt that he would have to
expect the same thing from Ila.
	But just like her children, Ila was full of surprises.  With a great
sigh, she leaned back against her chair.  "Starbuck, you're sweet, and
thanks for your concern."
	He gave her a charming smile.  "And...?"
	"And for the warning."  She cast a glance at the door.  "Cain's that
insistent, huh?"
	"So's the posse he has gathered."
	She nodded, then yawned.  "Well, I am tired.  If I don't want to be
confined to quarters, I guess I'd better go get some rest, for the time
being."
	With a smile of relief, because he was more than positive that the
scene with the doctor and two medtechs would indeed be acted out,
Starbuck helped her out of her chair.  He watched as Ila leaned forward
to kiss Apollo's forehead, then whispered so only those close to them
could hear, "I'll be back soon, love.  Sleep well."
	She straightened, then fixed them with a stern glance.  "Now, I'll
be back in about eight centars.  In the meantime, if Meve comes by, she's
more than welcome to stay, but if Poinciana comes by, only let her stay
for a few centons.  I don't want her presence disturbing Apollo's
well-being."
	Sheelah gave her a gentle smile.  "Don't worry, I'll keep her
occupied."
	With a sharp nod, Ila left the room, and Starbuck took the seat she
vacated.  He watched as Sheelah studied the unconscious warrior for a few
microns, then she looked up at Starbuck.
	"Well, you've got this shift, hmm?" she smiled.  "I'll take up the
Poinciana end of things when she gets back from her mission.  In the
meantime, see if you can talk him into waking up, okay?  And if I have
to, I'll make it a direct order."
	He grinned.  "I'd take you up on that offer, but Apollo's heard
almost everything I can say.  If he were coming out of the coma, he'd
fall back into it with boredom."
	"I don't believe you," she told him, smiling slightly.  "I think you
can knit a good yarn if you want to."
	"Well, my daughter and Apollo's sons would agree with you, but
generally after you're past the age of ten, they don't hold the same
appeal."  Starbuck's grin grew a little mysterious as he studied Sheelah
for a micron, wondering why Apollo had originally described her as being
Poinciana's partner in crime.  Unless, as he partly suspected, Sheelah
was the one who put things back together after her friend was through
with it.  "Even so, I'll do my best."
	"That's all I ask," she replied.  "Call me if you need anything."
	"I will."
	"Good."  With a smile at Starbuck, she looked at Apollo again.  She
reached out and brushed the hair off his forehead, then directed him with
a semi-stern tone, "As for you, kid, snap out of it.  I miss hearing your
laugh."
	After a pause that would have allowed Apollo to nod in response had
he been awake, Sheelah waved goodnight to Starbuck then left, leaving the
two warriors to themselves.  With a sigh, Starbuck leaned back in his
chair, then watched his friend's still face for a few microns.
	"Well," he finally said.  "Here we are again.  You've really got to
stop this game of being unconscious, it's rather unbecoming.  That, and
you never get anything done.  On the other hand, I can stop worrying
about you when you're lying still in one place, because it means that I
don't have to go chasing after you all over the cosmos like we used to
back on the Galactica.  Those were the days, weren't they?"
	He let the silence be his reply as he continued.  This time, he
decided to take a different angle in his talking.  "Sheelah wants me to
tell you a story, you know.  To keep you occupied, I suppose, and maybe
even entice you to wake up.  You know, that just might work.  If I tell
you a story, but stop before I get to the conclusion, maybe you'll be
hooked enough on the story to wake up and get me to finish.
	"But maybe this'll get your attention.  You remember how much Boxey
loved to hear stories, whether they were mine, yours, or even Adama's. 
Josce is the same way; he loves to hear a good story, and your adventures
were always a favorite topic of his, you know.  I would tell him a story,
and every once in a while, if I got a detail wrong or anything like that,
he would jump in with the right thing.  Or he would just interrupt so he
could tell the story in his own words."
	He stopped, thinking of the dark-haired, green-eyed boy who, when he
grew up, would look more or less like the dark-haired, green-eyed man who
was lying in front of him.  Like he knew Sheba had many times before, he
wondered how well Josce and Apollo would get along.  He knew that parents
often had major disagreements with children who were too much like them;
that had been one of the problems between Apollo and Adama.  The two
often argued, occasionally heatedly though that had been more the case
when Apollo was a teenager.  In many ways, the two men were very much
alike, even if the only thing they shared physically was a dark coloring.
	"Josce is so much like you, Apollo, it's almost scary," he said
softly.  "The looks, aspects of his personality, almost everything. 
Sometimes, buddy, it's like you never left; more like you just came back
in miniature."
	He had to laugh at the thought. Josce really didn't have the same
conditions Apollo did while growing up -- namely being the eldest son of
a very powerful family, which meant having large expectations that were
extremely difficult for a young boy to live up to.  Josce had none of
that, but while Apollo became serious out of necessity, Josce seemed to
have it naturally.  Other than that, they were both intensely curious
individuals, who usually stopped at nothing to satisfy any questions they
might have.
	They also had the uncanny knack when they knew that someone was
hiding something from them.  Starbuck had been used to it with Apollo,
but with Josce, it was always a surprise.  Starbuck had come to pay a
visit to the Achilles with Cassie and Derdre for Josce's eighth natal
day, with two presents.  One he had in his hands, the other was hidden in
the bag Cassiopia was carrying.
	Josce had opened the present right away, and to his delight, he
pulled out a storybook, which Starbuck knew he would read a dozen times
before the secton was over.  But all during dinner, Josce had fixed
Starbuck with a knowing look, and finally he had asked, "Well?"
	"Well, what?" Starbuck shot back playfully, but the look Josce gave
him was one hundred percent Apollo.
	"I know you've got another present," he replied, surprising even
Sheba.  "May I have it now, please?"
	"He's a smart kid, Apollo," Starbuck told his unconscious friend. 
"You'll be proud of him.  But guess what his favorite story is?  You'll
never guess, not in a million yahrens!"
	He pictured the cross look Apollo would have shot his way.  "Yeah,
if you can't guess, why do I tell you to guess?  I know, I know.  The
first time we attacked a Cylon basestar, about a yahren after the
Colonies were destroyed.  Do you remember that?  And can you believe that
even now, we still don't have a name for it?  Some people call it the
First Victory, but most of us just refer to it as the first basestar. 
That's his favorite story, and I can't tell you the number of times I've
told it to him.  And not just from me.  Sheba's told it to him, too.  And
Josce's favorite part is when she confronted you in the Raider.  Funny,
eh?  I know that if I were a kid his age, I'd be screaming in disgust,
but not Josce.
	"But that's his favorite story.  You need to have one of your own,
because Boxey had his favorite, and so does Derdre."  He smiled slightly. 
"And I think I know just the one."
	With a deep breath, he told Apollo about his son's birth, adding as
many details as he could.  As he did, he was transported himself to that
day, with the excitement and the tears that abounded around the
battlestar.
	Boxey had rushed into a card game that was going on in the Blue
Squadron billet, dragging Starbuck out in the middle of the best hand
yet.  When told that Sheba had gone into labor, Starbuck had muttered,
"Well, we know at least that the baby belongs to Apollo.  No sense of
timing at all!"
	His joking continued through the next few centars of labor, but even
so, when Josce was finally born, everyone in the room was tired from the
emotions that were continuously building up.  Emotions both of expecting
the baby's birth, and of more mourning.  It was like a circle of sorts. 
Apollo had died, and now his son was born.
	Adama had pulled Starbuck aside during one break during
contractions.  Leaving the birthing room, the Commander looked haggard. 
With a sigh, he studied Starbuck intently, and he finally ask, "What's
that around Sheba's neck?"
	"Her neck?"  Starbuck glanced back in through the doorway, where
Boomer and Athena were attending to Sheba.  At the base of her neck, on a
delicate chain, was the promissory ring Apollo would have given her. 
Starbuck smiled slightly as he responded to Adama's question.  "That? 
Oh, I guess it's Sheba's new good luck charm.  Apollo was going to give
her that ring when he proposed to her, but... well, we both know he never
had the opportunity."
	Adama nodded slightly, and there was a wistful expression on his
face.  "Yes, yes, I know...  Thank you, Starbuck."
	A few centars after that, Josce was born.  The baby's piercing cry
started microns after emerging into the world, almost demanding that
attention be paid to him, and Starbuck had to laugh.  "You might as well
just call him 'Captain,' Sheba.  He's got the voice for command!  Just
like his dad, too, always ordering us to do what he wants."
	That made everyone laugh, though for Sheba, her eyes were full of
tears.  They threatened to spill over her cheeks as she rested while
Cassiopia and Salik did the usual tests that were done when a baby was
born.  Finally, Josce was placed into Sheba's shaking arms, and the baby
briefly opened his eyes to get another glimpse of the world.  Starbuck
had been shocked into silence.  Most babies, he knew, were born with
either blue or brown eyes, but Josce's eyes were already green.
	"Just like you," Starbuck told Apollo now, then decided to make more
of his jokes.  "Apollo, you could at least smile at the story, huh? 
You're making me feel like I've lost my touch."
	He leaned back in his chair, then just sat quietly, listening to the
near-silence of the room.  He must have dozed off a few centons later,
because he was jarred awake when Kaguya opened the room to the door.
	"Starbuck," she called, watching him carefully with her dark slanted
eyes.  "Cain wants you in his quarters now, okay?  Something's come up,
and he needs your presence.  Don't worry, I'll make sure that someone
keeps their eye on Apollo while you and the Siress are out."
	He nodded his thanks, then cast one last look at Apollo.  His friend
hadn't moved a centimetron during Starbuck's doze, and he shot him a
quick farewell before hurrying out of the Life Center.
	A group had already gathered in Cain's quarters by the time Starbuck
arrived.  Poinciana was back from her mission, and by the way she was
standing near Cain's desk, almost at the commander's side, he guessed
that the blond captain had something to announce, and it was important. 
Ila, Sheelah, Helen and Hagan were there, too, and none of them had happy
expressions on their faces.  At least Ila looked somewhat rested.
	Cain nodded for Poinciana to speak once the door closed behind
Starbuck, and she did in a loud voice.  "Well, I spoke to the computechs. 
Along with the vid with the Cymorth, they also received some extra intel
from the data Apollo managed to obtain while he was connected.  They
thoroughly went through it to see if we missed something.  And we did."
	"Is that a fact?" Hagan asked.  "And what exactly did we miss?"
	"They discovered that in one piece of data we thought was
insignificant, there's part of a transmission.  It's not a vid, and it's
not even from a voice communication.  It's in text, but coded.  Luckily,
the code is a variant of a Cylon code used about eighty yahrens ago, so
it was pretty easy to decode."
	"Dare I ask what was in it?" Starbuck asked.
	"It appears the Shelborn are on the way to forming a treaty of some
kind with the Cymorth," Poinciana said slowly, "and they've partially
succeeded."
	"But that doesn't make any sense!" Sheelah protested.  "I mean,
we've all seen the vids, and we saw the ship with the blood and the ashes
of those Shelborn.  They were attacked and invaded by the Cymorth."
	"From what the computechs obtained then handed to the
anthropologists and such, we can gather this much about the Cymorth. 
They have their own factions, almost in the way we have the Pegasus and
the Galactica.  It would be like us making a peace treaty with the
Cylons, then having our new allies having a run-in with a Galactican
patrol.  The Cylons would be sure to be destroyed."
	"So basically, the intel shows that the Shelborn contacted one group
of Cymorth," Cain summarized, "but ended up with being attacked by one of
their rivals by mistake?"
	"More or less."  Poinciana glanced at her ex-lover, seeing him nod
in understanding.  Starbuck had to suppress his reaction, pressing his
closed fist to his lips in amusement.  He glanced around him to see if
anyone else had noticed, but everyone else's attention was fixed on more
serious topics.
	"Our situation isn't getting any better," the commander sighed,
looking over in Helen and Ila's direction.  "We've heard from Enaj,
finally.  And the news there isn't much brighter.  The information about
the Cymorth has them running scared, and there are rumors that their
outlying ships being attacked.  Once again, there hasn't been anything to
confirm or deny them."
	"Oh, lovely," Starbuck groaned.
	"Exactly," Cain agreed.
	"Well, this is all and well," Ila spoke up.  She looked a little
better than she had in Apollo's chamber earlier, but her features were
still tired.  Starbuck felt sorry for her, knowing that she wouldn't be
getting much more sleep in the next few days with the current situation
being the way it was.  "But the question our people will want to know is
why the Cymorth have been making all these attacks?  Do they have a valid
motive, other than just testing their weapons to make sure they're
functioning properly?"
	"You mean other than the usual declaration of conquering and
plundering?" Hagan asked wryly.
	"Not necessarily.  Maybe they're xenophobic, like the Cylons are
reputed to be.  Destroy a new threat even if they don't know whether the
new so-called threat is actually friendly or hostile?" Ila tossed her
theory out.
	"Shoot first, ask questions later?" Sheelah added.  "It makes sense
to me."
	"Yes, it's possibility, but we just don't know enough," Cain told
them.  He sighed and stood to pace in front of his desk slightly.  "We
don't know anything else, and we might not hear anything else for a very
long time.  Enaj said that we shouldn't be surprised if we don't hear
from them in a very long time, since they have to get their own situation
straightened out before they can go back to their business deals."
	"We'll find out more."  Ila's voice held a tone that showed that she
was positive about what she was talking about.  "There's more to this
situation than meets the eye."
	"Well, if anything," Hagan said, "maybe this will have an up side
for us.  Maybe the Shelborn will get the Cymorth to wipe out the Cylons
in this sector, and then we'll have no problems in that area."
	"We can only hope," Cain sighed again.  "If fact, I --"
	"Commander Cain," Tolen's voice said from over the comline. 
"Commander, we've picked up a signal from the direction of the colony
we're headed toward.  It's weak, but the message is pretty clear.  Shall
we pipe it down there?"
	Cain nodded, heading to his terminal.  "Go ahead, Tolen.  We're
listening."
	Through the speakers, a faint hiss came through, accompanied by the
occasional pop.  Through it, a woman's voice could be heard, sounding
calm despite the fact that her voice was fading in and out.
	"Attention, this is the Colonial colony Whitby calling any ship in
communication range.  We have been attacked by Cylons and by another
unidentified race, and we are in need of assistance.  Please reply.  This
message will be put on automatic transmission on this communication band. 
Please, by the Lords of Kobol, answer us."
	The message began to repeat, and Cain turned the volume down to look
at the assembled personnel.
	"Well," he said.  "It looks like it was worth going in that
direction after all.  The fleet did pass by this area, and...  Ila? 
Starbuck?  What's wrong?"
	During the playing of the transmission, both Starbuck and Ila's
faces had grown pale, and they were exchanging surprised looks.  Starbuck
moved to speak, but it was Ila's voice that was heard.
	"The voice of the woman on the transmission," she began, her blue
eyes wide.  "That sounded exactly like my daughter, Athena."

Part 10 - Trial for truth

	The ruined remains of the Whitby colony were already an all too
familiar site for Athena now as she made her way across the terrain that
had once held a blossoming town.  Only a short time ago, children had
played on those streets, while their parents went about to do the daily
duties associated with establishing a new civilization.  Whitby was a
world to replace the twelve worlds they'd lost nearly fifteen yahrens
before; a home for the nearly eight hundred individuals who believed that
the Galactica's fleet was no longer the place to be.
	And after all their hard work, and their dreams nearly realized, the
Cylons had arrived to destroy it all again.
	Before the colonization, there had been movements within the fleet
from the outset of the voyage to Earth who wanted to settle down.  More
importantly, they wanted to forget Commander Adama's dream about their
goal of Earth.  Some felt that the mythological world was just that -- a
myth.  Others felt that it wasn't realistic to spend yahrens, even
centuries, in space, while they could be spending their energy on trying
to defend themselves from the Cylons at a new home in the meantime.
	The flame of hope that at least some would be allowed to leave the
fleet had many moments where the very embers looked like they were going
to burn out.  But even after those bleak moments, the inevitable
happened.  The Council had granted permission for a group of volunteers
to found a new colony on a planet that for all purposes was identical to
Caprica.  The world was named Whitby, after the original champion of the
colonizing cause; and to help protect it from any hostile attack, they
were to be defended by a force of twenty-five Vipers and their pilots.
	Most of the warriors were junior officers, mostly corporals,
sergeants and ensigns, though there was the exception of three
lieutenants.  The decision for the newly sealed couple of Giles and Brie
to settle was a surprise for the Galactica, but no one knew how to take
it when Athena applied to leave along with them.
	The Commander's daughter had grown disillusioned with her father's
vision for humanity's future.  In the first few yahrens after the
Holocaust, she had supported Adama whole-heartedly, believing in her
father's dream.  Although she didn't have a religious outlook on life,
she had to admit that his faith was inspiring, and so she did everything
she could to help in the journey.  She even sacrificed her own dream of
being a Viper pilot so she could serve on the battlestar's bridge.
	She began to lose faith five yahrens into the voyage when her older
brother, Apollo, disappeared while on patrol, and for all intents and
purposes, was written off as dead.  As children, they'd been very close,
and although as adults they had their own separate ways, they still
shared a closeness that no one else could really rival.  Losing Apollo to
the quest for Earth had been heartbreaking, and she hadn't handled it
very well.  She had become more introverted, comforting herself by
keeping away from others.
	Boomer had brought her out of her depression, simply by being there. 
If she needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there.  If she just needed to
talk, he would listen.  Although he was suffering in his own way by
having Apollo's old responsibilities of the squadrons thrust on his
shoulders, Boomer still had the time to be with Athena, and it was
something she greatly appreciated.
	In the yahrens following Apollo's loss, Athena still had confidence
in her father, but it was shaky.  Deep down, she knew that it wouldn't
take much for her to lose all her faith.  It eventually happened nine
yahrens later.
	The Massacre of Haserre was the historical name for the battle,
named as such because navigators had realized that their current location
was in the same direction as the Caprican constellation of Haserre.  The
celestial image of an angry man with his fist in the air was very
fitting, because two people that Athena cared greatly about were lost in
the battle.
	At the time, her circle of friends were mostly female, and they
included Cassiopia, Dietra, Brie, and another warrior named Ivette. 
Athena occasionally saw Sheba either when she went to visit her and Josce
on the Achilles, or when Sheba made one of her rare visits to the
Galactica.
	The battle had begun when Boomer and Starbuck's patrol was
intercepted by the first wave of a Cylon attack force.  Starbuck's Viper
was hit by the Raiders and forced to crash-land, while Boomer returned to
warn the Galactica.  In the main battle, over thirty percent of the
Galactica's fighters were destroyed, and along with them, Ivette.
	As hard as it was to lose one of her closest friends, it was
Starbuck's fate, not Ivette's, that completely swayed Athena.  Although
she wasn't as close as she might have been to her ex-boyfriend, she still
cared for him as a friend.  Knowing that he was marooned on a planet, and
very possibly still alive, made Adama's decision to leave him behind
almost impossible to understand.  She had been there on the bridge when
Boomer came aboard, wanting permission to go back and get him.  She had
felt like crying when her father refused, saying that it hurt him as much
as it hurt Boomer.  Starbuck had been like a son to him, and just like
how it had hurt when Apollo died, Starbuck's loss would affect him the
same way.
	Boomer had felt extremely guilty at leaving him behind, and nothing
Athena would do or say could help.  After a sectar, though, his grief had
lessened, and one day he announced to her that they were going over to
the Rising Star for dinner.  There, after a meal of her favorite foods,
he proposed to her.  He had used a line that had rung warning bells
within her mind, saying that since the future was so uncertain, he wanted
as much happiness with her in whatever amount of time they had left.
	She accepted, and they had a sealing ceremony very shortly afterward
that made Apollo's wedding to Serina seem subdued.  Everyone had been
there, including the couple's friends, and Athena's nephews Troy and
Josce.  The eight yahren old had held the seal for his grandfather.  In
his good navy-colored clothes, Josce looked like a miniature version of
Apollo, especially when he smiled.
	Almost immediately, Athena became pregnant, and during those nine
sectars, the colonization movement sprung back to life.  After Haserre,
more warriors had joined the effort, and Athena was one of them.  Spurred
by a definite anti-Earth attitude, advertisements and bulletins appeared
on the IFB.  Paid by well-placed members of the fleet, the adverts
demanded that things in the fleet begin to change.  They no longer wanted
to find Earth, but look rather for a new home so their children wouldn't
spend their entire lives in space on a possibly endless journey.
	It was an advert by a group named Terra Firma that gained Athena's
support.  The image of a home on a real world, not a box of metal in
space, caught her attention, especially as her pregnancy progressed. 
Terra Firma's answer to the anti-Earth sentiment was very logical.  They
would colonize a new world, and they would gain that right through
diplomacy and negotiations, unlike the many other groups who promoted
radicalism and even potential violence to get their goal.
	She thought about the questions and doubts that had been plaguing
her.  What if her father was wrong?  He was only human -- he might very
well be mistaken.  He claimed to have found information about the
Thirteenth Tribe in the tomb on Kobol.  What if he had read the
hieroglyphics wrong?  Or he had the wrong translation?  What if her
child's grandchildren were still in space, populating the Galactica to
fight against the Cylons, decades later?
	She didn't voice her thoughts to Boomer, though.  He was devoted to
the journey, because while the deaths of Apollo and Starbuck had
disillusioned Athena, they had made Boomer all the more determined. 
Occasionally, he would speak about his hopes for what lay on Earth, and
how he wanted Athena to be there with their child.
	But she didn't.  She didn't even want to think about Earth, that
myth, anymore.  Soon, she wouldn't have to.  Word was going around that
the would-be colonists were very shortly going to be granted their wish: 
the Council was deliberating the matter very carefully.
	During the ongoing debates, their child was born.  A beautiful baby
girl, with light brown skin, silky brown hair and wide brown eyes; her
parents named her Eilan.  When Athena first saw her daughter, she knew
that she was on the right path with supporting Terra Firma.
	When Eilan was a secton old, the results from the Council were
released.  The edict stated that the next best inhabitable planet would
be colonized by a reasonable amount of people so they could have a viable
population to survive.
	Athena applied the micron the word came in, and as she did, she
decided that she needed to go speak to her father about the situation. 
Adama had gone through so much in the yahrens since the Colonies were
destroyed that an explanation about her motivations would be more than
fair.
	What she found in his quarters was a quiet man who looked at his
daughter and only surviving child with dark brown eyes full of confusion
and hurt.  Gone was the vibrant man full of enthusiasm and vigor for the
tasks at hand.  Well, not completely gone, but he would often take a
while to emerge.  In his place was a man that Athena sometimes didn't
recognize, who merely stood and watched as life passed him by.  The Adama
she remembered, the caring father and the dedicated commander, appeared
only occasionally.
	One more reason for me to leave, she thought as she stood in front
of the man she wasn't quite sure she recognized, waiting for him to
speak.  After a silence that lasted for several centons, he finally
spoke.
	"Your mother," he began, speaking slowly, "always told me that you
were the child the most like me.  You were stubborn but intelligent, and
you always accessed the situation as though you were making a command
decision.  So tell me, my daughter, why you've made this decision to
leave the fleet."
	The fleet.  He meant him.  She shook her head, trying to come up
with an answer from the depths of her swirling emotions.  "I came to the
realization, Father, that we've been misguided for the past ten yahrens. 
Yes, we need to find a new home where we can base our new defense against
the Cylons, but to jeopardize what's left of our people, our
civilization?  No, I can't stand for that."
	He nodded slowly, taking in her explanation.  So far, he looked
calm.  Athena wondered for a micron how much it would take to get the
same reaction out of him that he gave Sheba.  She remembered her friend's
description of Adama's reaction when Sheba had decided to leave the
Galactica for the Achilles, and how angry Adama had been.  When would
that spark appear this time?
	"You honestly believe that?" he asked, his dark eyes searching her
face.  "Please, Athena, be honest.  Do you feel that I've been leading
the fleet in the wrong direction?"
	Suddenly uncertain about what she should say, Athena chewed on her
lower lip as she avoided her father's dark gaze.  For a few microns, she
was tempted to retract her decision to leave, and she had to remind
herself of what she was doing.
	"Maybe Earth exists, maybe it doesn't."  Athena watched his face for
a reaction as she spoke.  "You're so convinced that Earth exists, Father,
that you're not even taking into consideration that there might not be a
future for us out there.  What will be your plan, Father, if we're
destined to find nothing?  Or if Earth does exist, but it can't or won't
help us.  What then?"
	"The Lords of Kobol will guide us," he said calmly.  "They will
continue to guide us like they have in the past.  The Guardians of the
universe, those who helped us in the past, they will continue to keep
their eye on us.  They gave us the coordinates to Earth, after all."
	Athena shook her head, not convinced.  "I don't know if I believe in
those so-called Guardians."
	Her father fixed her with a stern look that reminded her of the
debates they used to have when she was a teenager; debates that would go
on for centars before, during and after dinner.  She remembered how Zac,
Apollo and Ila would quietly leave the table, allowing the duo to
continue their argument.  It never got to be anything very loud, but they
could get intense.
	"Then what do you believe those coordinates were that Apollo,
Starbuck and Sheba gave us?" he asked.  "Quadrant Alpha, nineteen million
sectors by Epsilon Vector 22 on a circular reckoning course of 0009. 
Where did they receive that information?  Remember the expressions of
their faces?"
	She shrugged.  "I remember, and I also remember how that happened
immediately after the disappearance of Count Iblis.  I seem to recall him
suggesting that maybe Earth existed, and maybe it didn't.  In fact, he
did a lot of suggesting during his visit.  Both Sheba and Apollo were
acting strangely during that entire time, and they also disappeared along
with Starbuck for all those centars.  They claimed that they confronted
Iblis, but what if they were... I don't know.  Brainwashed to recite
those so-called coordinates?"
	"And what about those mysterious lights that we observed, the ones
that Baltar, too, claimed to have seen on his basestar?"  Adama shook his
head.  "No, the Guardians exist, and whether or not they are angels, or
an advanced race, I believe that those coordinates they provided through
our warriors will lead us to where we need to go."
	"We've been in space for nearly fifteen yahrens, and there's no sign
of whether we're a few sectars, yahrens or decades to this destination,"
she pointed out.  "I had hope once, but now?  I'm sorry.  I have no
desire to remain on this quest, Father.  I want to move Eilan and myself
to Whitby, with your blessing or without."
	He stiffened, and Athena knew that he was getting upset.  Yahrens
before, she would have stopped before he lost his temper, but now, seeing
him react like this was a sign that he was at least alive somehow.
	"What about Boomer?" he pressed, his voice taking on the passion she
remembered.  "And me?  I've already lost your brothers to the Cylons, and
your mother.  I get to see Boxey, but I barely get to see Josce at all. 
And now you want to leave forever?  And take my granddaughter with you?"
	"Yes!" she snapped.  "And if Boomer wants to leave with me, he can
make the choice to remain with us."
	Adama motioned to the room around them, and with his gesture, she
knew he meant the fleet and its quest.  "All this, Athena.  All of this,
it was for you.  My children, my people.  Were we to remain in the
Colonies and face extinction there?  Or on one of the other planets that
we encountered?  Or what?  Was I just to stand by and watch the last
survivors of our race perish at the hands of the Cylons?"
	"Of course not, but you also said that there would be another place,
another time.  You could have meant anything by that."  Athena
straightened as she continued.  "Earth?  Why Earth?  Why not Paradeen,
Terra, or any other world we passed.  We had to flee because we were
weak, but now?  We're stronger now.  We know more about the Cylons, and
their methods and attacks.  They're barely around anymore, Father.  We
can settle, rebuild and rearm.  Find a planet rich in metals and build as
many new fighters as we can.  We can build defenses, and maybe one day go
on the offensive rather than the defensive."
	He smiled indulgently.  "And if that can never happen?"
	"That's what Whitby is all about!" she shot back.  "We've at least
got the guts to try instead of just running more and more!  How many
people have to die before you realize that we have no future?  You've
already lost Apollo and Starbuck, but who else?  All of Blue Squadron,
including Troy?  Half the fleet?  All of the fleet?  And the Galactica,
too?"
	"And you expect that a colony with a defense of twenty-five Vipers
is going to fare better than a fleet with five squadrons?"
	"Well, at least we're trying something than following a mindless
dream," she said, and with that, she knew that she had gone too far.
	"Then you can try your little experiment," he said, his voice even,
but his eyes were showing the anger he was feeling.  "Go."
	Knowing that there was nothing else to say, Athena quickly left her
father's quarters for the last time.  She wasn't surprised that their
final parting was heated, but she wished that she had left under happier
terms.  Once the door was closed, she pressed her palm to the door, as
though she could send her love for Adama through the doorway before she
left.
	The encounter with her father left Athena feeling drained, and she
preoccupied herself in the two days before the full colonization of
Whitby by preparing to take everything she and Eilan would need on the
planet.  Boomer was there as little as possible, and when she did see
him, they didn't talk.  The truth was that she didn't know what to say to
him; and the same appeared to be true for him.
	Sheba called the same day as the confrontation with Adama, asking if
she could come to the Achilles that evening.  Athena agreed, but she knew
that she didn't have to arrange for anyone to watch over Eilan.  She knew
that Boomer would be spending the evening with his daughter. 
	Sheba greeted her with a hug when Athena arrived on the Achilles,
and the two women headed for the captain's private chambers.  Athena
smiled widely when they met Josce in the front room.  The boy had grown
since the last time Athena had seen her nephew, and he just about reached
Sheba's shoulders.  Tall and slender, just like his father had been at
the age of ten yahrens.
	The three had a relatively quiet dinner, with Josce asking most of
the questions.  He wanted to know how his older brother was doing -- like
most of his family, he called Troy by his childhood name.  He was also
very curious about what Whitby entailed, and a million other questions. 
Athena answered as much as she could, then Sheba sent her overtly
inquisitive son to his room to do his homework.
	They settled in the living area over tea, and discussed a few
things.  It wasn't long before the conversation started to get deeper,
especially since they both knew that this would be the last time they
would see each other.  Athena found that she had the nerve to ask
something she had never asked her friend before.
	"Tell me," she began, knowing that it was safe to ask the question,
since Sheba's husband was away on the Galactica with the rest of Silver
Spar squadron.  If Bojay had been with them for the evening, she never
would dare to ask Sheba the question.  "Sheba, I need to know something. 
How hard was it for you to leave Apollo's memory behind?"
	Sheba had been wearing a smile, but now it faded slightly as she
glanced first at the closed door to Josce's room; then she returned her
attention to Athena.  She sighed slightly before she spoke.  "In some
ways, I have.  In others, I can't.  I see Apollo in Josce -- we all do. 
I remember our time together, the love we shared.  The arguments and
tender moments, everything.  But Apollo is gone and in the past.  I'm
here in the present, and I have to go on."
	There was a pause as Athena nodded, then she became aware of Sheba's
intense gaze.  She met Sheba's brown eyes, and she gave a sigh of her
own.  "I sense a 'but' in there somewhere."
	"You guessed that much?  I must be predictable, because Josce always
knows when there's a 'but' coming," she replied, a wry tone in her voice. 
"All right.  But it would be a different story if I had been sealed to
Apollo, then left him to come here to the Achilles with both Josce and
Boxey.  Not that I actually would have done that, but what if
circumstances made me do it?  If that were the case, then I think it
would be even more difficult.  Or more likely, downright impossible!"
	"If you loved Apollo and wouldn't be able to do that, what about
now?  You're here, while Bojay is on the Galactica most of the time. 
What's the difference between those two situations?"  She gave a
meaningful look of her own to the woman who, had fate played a different
hand, would have been her sister in law.  "Speaking of Bojay, how are you
two getting along?  Last we spoke, you two were having some rather major
difficulties."
	Sheba shrugged, taking the time to refill her tea before speaking. 
"I think we've put aside some of our differences to try for a new go at
things."
	"I see..."  Athena trailed off, wondering.  Sheba had frequently
complained that Bojay was sometimes inconsiderate about many things, and
included on that list was Sheba's career, the routine that his arrival on
the Achilles disrupted; and to a certain point -- as Troy often pointed
out -- Apollo's memory.  Along with those points, Sheba felt that he
wasn't even trying to be a good father.  Troy, Athena knew, didn't
approve of Josce and Bojay spending any time together; and there wasn't
even a semblance of a relationship between Bojay and Troy.  "But tell me,
Sheba, do you still love him?"
	"Do I still love Apollo?" she asked.  When Athena nodded, she leaned
back in her seat.  There was a smile on her lips that reminded Athena of
days long past when her friend and her brother had been seeing each
other.  The smile made Sheba look younger, but then it started to slowly
disappear as she replied to Athena's question.  "Of course.  Apollo
occupies a very dear part of my heart, and I cherish the memories I have
of him.  But I had to go on, and that meant that I had to let go of his
memory to continue."
	"I know, I know..."  Athena sighed again.  Her hand was fiddling
with her cup on the table that separated her chair from Sheba's sofa; she
became aware of the nervous movement and calmly placed her hands in her
lap.
	"Hey."  Sheba leaned across the table and fixed her friend with a
sympathetic look.  "If you feel that you're doing the right thing, and if
Boomer doesn't agree and decides to stay with the fleet, then you have to
live with that choice."
	"Even if it's the hardest thing I've ever done?"  Athena finally
found herself voicing her thoughts, instead of just alluding to them.
	"You're not the first person this has happened to," Sheba told her. 
"It's happened again and again throughout history, and it's never easy. 
I had a great uncle who was apparently called to the Koboliana, and more
specifically, to one of the sects that practiced celibacy for all of
their life.  The call was so strong that he couldn't refuse.  But even
so, he had to leave behind a woman he was strongly in love with, and she
was in love with him."
	"But he had to do what he had to do?"
	Sheba nodded.  "Exactly.  And just like my great uncle had to do
what he needed to do, you'll do what you have to do."
	After that bit of conversation, topics turned to less intense
subjects until Athena looked at her chrono and realized that she had to
get back to the Galactica.  After giving her nephew one last hug, Athena
embraced Sheba.
	"Before you go," Sheba told her, headed for her office, "I've got
something to give you!  Hang on..."
	She reemerged a few microns later with an envelope in hand, and she
handed it to her friend with a secret smile.
	"What is it?" Athena asked, curious about its contents.
	"It won't be a surprise if I tell," she smiled in return.  "Don't
open it until later, okay?"
	Athena kept that promise, keeping the envelope sealed during the
journey back to the Galactica, and placed it among the objects she would
bring with her to Whitby.  After checking in on Eilan, who was sleeping
soundly, she headed for the sleeping chambers.  She found Boomer sitting
up in bed, reading from the bedside monitor.  He looked up as she
entered.
	"Hello," he greeted, a slight smile on his face.
	"Hi," she replied, and silence reigned for the next few microns as
she slipped into her nightgown.  She slipped into bed next to him, and
instead of turning off the light like she normally did when arriving
after Boomer, she just sat and waited.
	"So how are Sheba and Josce?" he asked, not looking at her.
	"They're fine.  Josce's really grown in the last few sectars, and
running the Achilles is really keeping Sheba busy.  They seem to be fine
while Bojay's away on patrol."
	"That's good."  He paused, then continued.  "Are you looking forward
to Whitby?"
	She glanced over at him, seeing that he was looking across the room
at the opposite wall.  She examined his face, seeing the familiar dark
features that she had always taken for granted; features that she thought
that she would always take for granted.  "Yes, I suppose I am."
	"Athena, I know why you want to go.  I know about the new start, the
dream of establishing a new home, but what about me?  You're taking my
daughter away from me."  He finally turned to face her, his brown eyes
full of turbulent emotions.  "Why?"
	"Boomer..."  She smiled sadly.  "It's not as if you're not
invited...  I guess I never said anything before because I knew that you
would say no.  Your dream isn't mine, and vice versa and all that."
	"And why shouldn't I be the one to keep Eilan?" he demanded.  "I
have as much right to her as you do."
	"But you know very well that a battlestar is no place to raise a
child," she argued, looking at him intently.  "I want my girl to be able
to feel sun on her face, to feel ground beneath her feet.  I want her to
hear birds singing, and all the other things that we took for granted on
the Colonies but don't have here.  I want her to live naturally."
	"I wish as much as you do that we could have these things here, but
we can't.  The Cylons took them away, and we won't get them back until we
can find a new home that's safe from the Cylons.  Earth just might be
what we're looking for -- for the both of us."
	"Even if we're old when we arrive, and Eilan's grandchildren are
having their own grandchildren?" Athena asked, sighing as she knew that
she was in for another round of the same debate that she had with her
father.
	"But what if we aren't old when we arrive?" he asked.
	"Boomer, I don't want to argue that point with you!" she said
emphatically.  "It's all hearsay until it actually happens, anyway."
	He nodded slowly.  "I suppose, but Athena... don't you love me? 
Does our sealing mean anything to you?  Was it all a farce?  Something to
amuse you?"
	Staring at him with wide eyes, Athena wasn't sure what she was
supposed to say.  "Of course I love you!  But... I can't stay here
anymore.  Not since we lost Starbuck and Ivette.  It was hard enough
after Apollo died, but Starbuck was the last straw.  What if you're next? 
What if I lose you that way?"
	"You're losing me anyway if you go to Whitby," he said gruffly.
	Very tentatively, she reached out to touch his arm.  "Not
necessarily.  You can come with us?  We could always use more warriors,
I'm sure."
	"And you know I can't.  As a warrior, I gave my oath to Adama.  By
serving him as my commander, I support his journey for Earth," he
explained.  "But... there's a catch there."
	"Oh?"  Athena raised an eyebrow, wondering what he meant.
	"We've been treating this like a formal separation.  What about a
temporary one?"  He sat up and turned completely toward her, his dark
eyes bright with enthusiasm.  Athena had to smile at seeing her husband
like this.  Boomer was known as being a pragmatist, but she knew that
deep down, he could be a very optimist person.  "My loyalty is only good
up until Earth, then I'll be finished there.  I can't explain it, Athena,
but I know that we'll find Earth before we grow old and gray.  When we
do, I'll come back for you and Eilan."
	"But will you be able to?  It might be yahrens..."  Athena trailed
off, seeing the optimism still in Boomer's eyes.  "It's a crazy idea."
	"But it could work, and you're from the family who usually has the
crazy ideas," he teased slightly, then he sobered.  "I swear it, Athena. 
I'll come back for you.  I love you, Athena, and if this is the way
things will have to be, then that's the way they'll have to be."
	"I love you, too," she whispered, and Boomer pulled her to him. 
They kissed for a few microns, then they relaxed in each other's arms. 
Leaning her head against Boomer's chest, she sighed.  "But it's a good
plan, I suppose."
	"I knew you'd agree," he grinned, resting his cheek against her
hair.  Finally, he sighed.  "Come on, tomorrow's going to be a long day. 
You need to be rested for it."
	Reluctantly, Athena sat up to turn the light panels off.  She
settled back into the bed, feeling Boomer's arms going around her again. 
She quickly fell asleep in his comforting embrace.
	The next day was busier than she expected.  After waking rather
early, she left Boomer sleeping in the bed as she started collecting the
last of her possessions.  The scheduled departure for Whitby was at
fifteen hundred, so she had well over eight centars before she and Eilan
had to meet their shuttle heading down to the planet.
	The centars went quickly; and it was a somber reception in the
launching bay as the shuttles loaded everything the Galactican colonists
would need.  Giles and Brie were there, along with their collection of
belongings; to Athena's surprise, Jolly was ready to leave, too.  A large
number of Keltoi Colonials were destined for Whitby, and Jolly had
elected to join them.  Athena had to wonder, though, if Boomer had
privately taken him aside to ask him if he would watch over Eilan and
her.
	Adama was a noticeable absence.
	The farewells were a blur in Athena's memory, and the blessings and
tears all ran together.  Boomer, she noticed, was keeping his distance
for most of the time; he finally approached as they were getting ready to
board their shuttle.  His eyes were bright, and he took Eilan from
Athena, holding his little daughter tightly to him.
	"Be good to your Mommy," he told her.  "I love you, and I'll see you
soon."
	He handed Eilan to Jolly, who brought the baby inside the shuttle. 
With a long sigh, he turned to face Athena.  Neither said anything, then
Boomer reached for his wife.  They exchanged a long hug, then they
finally separated.  Without looking back, Athena left him.
	On the ride down to the planet, Athena pushed all thoughts of what
she was leaving behind.  She convinced herself that to continue, she had
to do the same as Sheba -- leave it all behind.
	The excitement of colonizing a new world made it easier that she
suspected.  Whitby was almost identical to Caprica; the gravity and
atmosphere were at the same levels.  The scenery was slightly different
from what had surrounded Caprica City, with more sparse vegetation, and
the temperature was somewhat cooler.
	The establishment was being set up on a relatively flat plain.  Main
residential buildings were erected the day before, and other buildings
were going to join the few lonely structures within the next ninety
centars.  Most of the inhabitants helped with the construction, and
Athena did as much as she could along with looking after her daughter.
	Life quickly fell into a regular rhythm during the first few days,
and as more and more of the village came into being, Whitby began to feel
like home.  The colonists took pride in their accomplishment, and before
long, there was a real sense of community.
	Despite their strengthening security, there was still the edgy
thought among the warriors who colonized the world that there was always
the chance that the Cylons would attack.  If that was the case, then
there had to be an emergency plan to fall back on in the case of an
emergency.  There were a number of caves not that far from the town, and
plans were made to deal with that possibility.
	Even so, it was a possibility that many tried to forget, even though
safeguards were taken for it.  The Galactica had left twenty-five Vipers
behind, and their pilots doubled their time as farmers and builders. 
There was also a long range scanner that would give them at least a few
centons' notice if any Cylons came into scanning range.
	After the first sectar, there was no sign of any hostiles coming
into range of Whitby.  The ruling Council for the colonists -- mostly
composed of the main leaders of the colonizing movement from the fleet,
and one or two warriors, including Jolly -- still kept the escape routes
clear, but there were doubts about whether they'd ever be needed.
	Athena and Eilan lived in a small apartment that led to the main
street.  It had less room than the quarters they shared with Boomer on
the Galactica, and Athena knew that as Eilan grew, the two rooms would
get smaller and smaller.  Hopefully, by then, the permanent dwellings
would be finished.
	One evening after putting Eilan down for the night, Athena wandered
in the main room, stretching as she moved.  Finally, she sank down in
front of her makeshift desk and stared down at the surface.  Twisting a
strand of her dark hair around with her fingers, she examined the few
piles of papers and envelopes that she had to go through.  Her position
with the colony was as a member of the new bureaucracy.
	Imagine that, she thought to herself as she reached out with her
other hand to thumb the stacks absently.  Rather than being a warrior
like her father, she'd become a bureautician that followed her mother's
line of work as a politician.
	Her thumb paused at the bottom of the stack, where an envelope was
weighed down by the papers on top of it.  With a frown, Athena pulled it
out, and she smiled as she realized that it was the farewell gift that
Sheba had given to her.  Remembering that she hadn't opened it yet, she
pulled open the seal and pulled out its contents.
	To her delight, it was a very recent portrait of Sheba and Josce. 
Sitting back to admire it, Athena placed the flatpic on the desk so it
would stand up while facing her.  Her friend was sitting on a chair, with
Josce standing at her shoulder.  Sheba was smiling, while Josce had a
large grin on his face.
	With a smile of her own, Athena placed the picture with the family
flatpics that she'd brought with her.  Carefully, she arranged the
flatpics so that Sheba and Josce's picture was right next to that of
Apollo.  It was one of her favorite pictures of her brother, taken a few
sectars before he died.  Athena had to laugh, though, because it was one
of the few poses where Apollo actually grinned, rather than just smiled. 
It made the resemblance between Apollo and his son even more uncanny than
usual.
	After three sectars, the initial blueprints for Whitby were almost
complete.  As Athena walked around the main street, she was amused to
realize that the town borrowed heavily from early dwelling designs from
the very early days in the Colonies.  Many of the buildings had square
fronts with porches.  At the center of the town was a square that served
as a park, and the colony's children played there when they weren't in
instructional period.  On nice afternoons, Athena would take Eilan to
play there.
	Despite the almost utopian atmosphere, life started to give the aura
of being too good to be true.  Whenever Athena met with Giles, Brie and
Jolly for meals or anything else, they would all feel uneasy.  They would
exchange looks, wondering if anyone else felt that way.
	"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Brie muttered during one
outing in the main park.  The sound of children playing in the background
was only putting the nervous blond more on edge.  She sat next to her
husband as she twisted a long strand of hair in her fingers, looking
about her.  Giles didn't look much more confident as his wife spoke
again.  "We're sitting targets here, and it's not like the Cylons to let
a group of humans go by unnoticed.  That means that it's only a matter of
time before they arrive."
	Giles nodded, and with sigh, put his arm around his wife's
shoulders.  Across the table from them, Athena and Jolly watched them
with concern.  A few days before, Brie had confided in Athena, telling
her that she had just discovered that she was pregnant; they now had two
things to worry about.
	"They might not come," Athena said, a hopeful note of optimism in
her voice that she didn't necessarily feel.  "It could mean that they
haven't discovered us yet."
	"But when they do, Athena, it's game over," Giles told her, sighing.
	All during the conversation, Jolly didn't say much, but when it was
over, he pulled Athena aside.  She waited for Giles to leave with Brie,
but even when they left, the portly warrior didn't say much.  All he
would say was, "Meet me tonight in my apartment.  I have something to
show you."
	A centar or two before sunset, Athena was on his doorstep, wondering
what was going on.  Back on the Galactica, Jolly had been known for being
easy-going most of time, and when he wasn't, it was usually in the middle
of an intense battle.  She remembered hearing Apollo talking once about
the different pilots in Blue Squadron, and her brother only had praise
for Jolly.  "He's got a good talent for watching our backs, and if he
thinks something is wrong, he'll tell you.  I can't tell you how many
times he's suspected that something was going to go wrong, and his hunch
or whatever it was turned out to be right.  Sometimes, it's almost
uncanny."
	As she remembered Apollo's words, she began to get a funny feeling
that amplified when Jolly finally answered the door.  His round face was
pale, and he hurriedly ushered Athena inside.  After offering her some
tea, which she accepted, they settled in his office area.
	Sipping slowly on her tea, finding it much too warm to drink all at
once, Athena waited for him to say something.  She watched as he stared
at his desktop, especially at a bag that sat on top.  After a few
microns, he finally sighed.
	"I feel silly talking about this, but it's just too strange.  I have
to tell someone."  He fixed her with an intense look.  "Apollo used to
listen to what I had to say, and I hope that you're the same type as your
brother."
	"Well..." she shrugged.  "I've been told that Apollo and I did have
some things in common."
	"Very true."  He motioned to the bag with one hand.  "Do you know
what runes are?"
	She lifted one eyebrow slightly.  "I know that they're usually from
ancient alphabets, and they're used for divining.  Father didn't think
too much about them, because the Kobolian faith believes that the future
is something that you really shouldn't know about.  There's a few other
factors in there, too, but basically, I know what they are."
	"Well, there are several kinds of runes, but in my faith, they're
used regularly.  Here, take a look."  He offered her the bag, which she
took and opened.  Inside were little pieces of what at first appeared to
be plasticon, but as she examined them, she realized that they were
square pieces of wood with letters carved into them.  "You can use them
for meditation, too."
	"They're lovely," she told him, listening to the light noises they
made as they fell against each other.  "But what do the runes have to do
with what you wanted to tell me?"
	"I never thought much about runes until one time when I was a
teenager," he explained, leaning back in his chair.  "My cousin was
really into them, and she'd get me to use them occasionally.  Anyway,
finally, she taught me then, and we'd do a few readings for fun.  Nothing
really came of it, until once I pulled a reading that something would
befall one of our neighbors.  A few centars hadn't even passed when the
man who lived next door fell down from his roof and nearly killed
himself.  I was so scared that I never touched them again."
	"Until now?"
	"Yes."  Jolly gave another sigh.  "I've been seeing a woman from the
Keltoi part of the community.  Edain is her name, and she got me into
them again.  I was originally just going to use them for meditation, but
then on a hunch, I decided to see what would happen if I tried divining
again."
	"And?"  Athena wasn't sure if she really wanted to know, but at the
question, she saw Jolly close his eyes.  When it took him a few microns
to reply, she prompted him.  "Jolly, are you going to be all right?"
	"Oh, I'm fine for now," he told her as he reached out to take the
rune bag back.  "It's just that I picked the rune, Tri.  That isn't bad
by itself, but when you pick one of them backward, that means that the
meaning of the rune is reversed.  So if the rune means good luck, picking
it backward means that it's bad luck.  Sort of basic, you know."
	"So what does a backward Tri mean?" Athena asked, watching as Jolly
fished through the bag until he found the tile he was looking for.  The
rune in question was a figure that looked like a flag at half-mast.
	"Usually when Tri is reversed, it means that there's bad news coming
from afar.  We're supposed to act carefully.  Now, with runes, you can
pick up to three tiles in succession if you want clarification, and each
tile I picked said the same message."  Jolly put the rune back into the
bag and tossed it between his hands absent-mindedly.  "But I tried the
same reading a few centars later, with the same question in mind, about
our colony's future.  I picked the exact same three runes, Athena, and it
happened again and again."
	"Is that unusual?" she wondered.
	"Let's just say that those are odds that Starbuck would have jumped
at.  It's never happened before to anyone else I've known, and it looks
like someone is trying to tell us something," he said, shaking his head.
	"And how much do you believe in this, Jolly?" Athena asked.  "I
mean, is it really going to happen, or is it... something else?"
	"Maybe, maybe not," he admitted, "but even so, just be prepared. 
Get whatever you need, keep it by the doorway, even if you never use it. 
I'm going to tell Giles and Brie to do the same.  That, and we're having
a Council meeting tomorrow morning.  I'll see if I can get them to run
through the emergency plans, just so we can practice the evacuation of
the city."
	But to Jolly's uttermost disappointment, the Council declined such a
maneuver.  The Cylons hadn't been seen in three sectars, and as such,
they had the feeling that if they hadn't attacked so far, it would bode
well for the future.  Even so, Athena followed her friend's advice and
packed a bag or two of things she could grab in the event of a Cylon
attack.  On second thought, she added the pictures of her family, just in
case.
	Whitby was in an area that received heavy rain during the beginning
of the autumn season, and one evening as Athena looked out from her
window to the horizon, she could see the moisture laden clouds gathering
in the distance.  By morning, thunder greeted the colonists as the first
drops of rain descended from above.
	Eilan was having her morning nap as Athena went downstairs to the
main street, going to fetch some food for that evening's meal while her
daughter slept.  She pulled her coat close to her body against her body
as she went, but before she could reach the sheltered market, she was
almost tackled by a body much larger than hers.
	"Athena!"  It was Milos, a scanner tech from the Galactica who had
occasionally served on the bridge.  He pushed his damp brown hair from
his forehead as he stared down at her.  "Get ready!  They're coming!"
	She was already cold from the wind and the rain, but the chill that
permeated to her bones was from fear, not the elements.  "The Cylons?"
	"In ten to fifteen centons!" he confirmed.  "I'm headed over to the
emergency comline!  Get going to the shelters!"
	More faster than she ever had before, Athena raced back up to her
apartment, where she grabbed Eilan and their bags, then hurried back
down.  By that time, a klaxon had started ringing, and people stopped
where they were, wondering what in Hades that noise was.
	"To the shelters!" Athena shouted at them, but they didn't move
until they heard Milos' voice echo her statement over the speakers that
were distributed around the village.
	Eilan had started screaming at all the jarring and the noise going
on, but Athena didn't have time to comfort her.  She just held onto her
daughter's straining body as she tried to help direct the direction of
traffic.  The educational complex was only two buildings away, and the
children were running out into the mud with their coats only halfway done
up.
	In the distance, Athena heard the sounds of Viper engines revving
up, and before long, she heard their thrusters fire as they launched from
the nearby field.  She couldn't watch them as they went up into the
atmosphere, because the children were watching with fascination as the
fighters disappeared into the cloud cover.
	"Come on," she told them, and many of the small faces quickly
adopted guilty expressions as they turned their attention back to the
instructions their instructor had given them.  The caves were another
dozen metrons from their current position, and if Milos had been right
with his estimate, that meant that they had less than ten centons before
the Cylons arrived.  Assuming, of course, that the Vipers were unable to
fend them off first.
	Dull flashes appeared in the clouds, and at first, Athena thought it
was lightning.  The sound that emerged several microns after the flashes
wasn't from thunder, but more the sound of an explosion.  The battle had
started above the planet, and Athena exchanged glances with the other
adults, then they all hurried in reaching the caves.
	Shrill sounds came from above, beginning to drown out the sound of
the battle.  Athena didn't need to look up to know that at least a few
Cylon ships had evaded the Vipers, and as the group actually ran through
the mud to the caves, they heard lasers being fired, then the sound of
explosions.
	Whitby had been equipped with several manned anti-aircraft lasers,
and those began firing as the first of Whitby's inhabitants arrived at
the caves.  There, they stood shivering with the cold, wet and fright,
waiting for the disaster to finish.  That, and praying that it would
finish quickly.  At the whispered mutters, Athena was surprised to find
herself adding her own word of intercession.
	Athena held Eilan tightly to her as she stood near the entrance of
the cave that she and about twenty or thirty others were occupying.  The
cloud layer was thinning at last, and she could see both the destruction
of their buildings, and of the battle far above them.  The Vipers had
split into two groups, with the majority of the human fighters staying in
orbit to fight the largest group of Cylons.  A few Vipers had finally
followed the Raiders to the surface, trying to stop the Cylons before
they did anymore damage than they already had.
	Several of the children were crying, and they were now huddled up,
trying to stay warm.  Athena turned to watch them for a few microns,
especially as the adults went to the back of the main chamber where some
supplies had been kept.  Blankets were soon distributed to cover the
small shivering bodies, and Athena found one being placed around her
shoulders.  Thankfully, she wrapped it about herself and Eilan.
	Midway through the battle, something new happened.  The Vipers
suddenly scattered, and Athena craned her neck to look up as something
descended in the middle of the attack.  Faintly, she could make out a
soft hum over the sound of rain, and she watched as it descended down in
the midst of the circling Cylons, lower and lower into the melee until it
was hovering a few kilometrons above the burning ruin that used to
Whitby.
	It was unlike any ship Athena had ever seen, and she had seen many
during her short career as a warrior.  The ship was larger than any of
the fighters that were in orbit, perhaps two times larger than a Colonial
shuttle.  She stared at the odd shape, with the multitudes of lights and
the pale black color of the hull.
	"What in Hades is that?" a woman asked, coming up next to Athena to
watch.
	"I wish I knew..." Athena whispered, waiting to see what would
happen next.  Both the Cylons and the Vipers were almost hovering in
their positions, ceasing their hostilities long enough to try to figure
out what the situation was.  "I really wish I knew."
	After nearly a centon of waiting, one of the Raiders moved up and
started firing on the ship.  Athena held her breath as the ship seemed to
stop all function, then immediately started emitting bursts of what
appeared to be lasers first at the offending Cylon, then at the rest of
the squadron.  The Vipers, encouraged by the turn of events, moved to aid
the alien ship with its duties, but they never expected what would happen
next.
	Not even five microns after the first Cylon ship exploded from
Colonial lasers, the new ship began including the Vipers in their
targeting.  Athena and most of those gathered in the caves cried out in
horror as Viper after Viper disappeared in a bright cloud of fire.  A few
fortunate pilots made it down to the surface, escaping from their
cockpits microns before a bolt of light struck their ship.
	The alien ship continued firing until there were no ships other than
its own in the air, then it slowly began to retreat upward.  Finally,
when it was only a dot in the sky, it retreated back into space where it
came, leaving the humans to search through the rubble of their new home.
	It wasn't a pretty site.  Almost immediately, it became apparent
that several hundred colonists didn't make it to the caves, many of them
perished in their homes as they tried to rescue valuables or family
heirlooms.  Others were struck down as they tried to run to the shelter
of the caves.  Of the eight hundred colonists, Athena estimated that only
three hundred survived, and another hundred of the survivors were in
various stages of injuries.
	Athena nearly collapsed with relief when she spotted Brie, Giles and
Jolly among the survivors.  Brie hadn't gone up in the battle because of
her pregnancy, and she had been a few caves away from Athena.  Giles had
been forced to set his Viper down long before the strange ship arrived,
while Jolly was one of the lucky few who were able to escape when the
massacre occurred.  Of the other pilots, only five remained.
	The survivors made their base in the caves, since there was no way
they could live in what used to be the town.  One cave was set aside as a
med center, but it was quickly made obvious that there weren't enough
medical supplies.
	They didn't have much of anything.  They had shelter, but no defense
or supplies.  They wouldn't starve, but they had little technology left. 
Milos was found among the lesser wounded, and he reported that all that
remained of the equipment left by the Galactica was a small
communications set powered by a solar energizer.
	"It's not much," he explained.  "The best we can do is maybe use up
the best of its power and point it out there into the stars."
	The warriors gave him a strange look, and Jolly asked, "Do you want
to bring the Cylons back?  Or those aliens who just blew us out of the
skies for no reason?"
	Milos shook his head.  "We can always hope for the Pegasus."
	Athena exchanged looks with her friends, knowing that the bridge
officer had a point.  Even so, she had to voice her opinion.  "We don't
know if the Pegasus made it out of the Battle of Gamoray intact.  We have
no idea if she's still alive, or if Cain finally got his glorious battle
while taking out those three basestars."
	"Cain is a man who makes his own miracles," he retorted, then leaned
back on the ground to gather his strength.  The Cylons' laser had hit one
of Whitby's main energizer, and with the ensuing explosion, Milos had
been caught and thrown several metrons.  "What's to say he's still not
out there, headed in our direction?"
	"And then what?" Giles asked.  "After the attack, I've been
listening to the various comments being made by other survivors, and many
are regretting their decision to remain.  Only a few are willing to
remain and eke out a living here."
	"So what does Cain have to do with anything?" Athena asked, even
though she knew very well what the answer would be.
	"And if Cain comes, maybe he'll take those of us who want to leave
with him," Brie finished for her husband.
	"If the Cylons don't find us first," Jolly added.  "They're probably
going to head back in this direction, wondering why their attack phalanx
never reported back."
	"Then let's hope that we get help before they do," Milos said, then
fixed Athena with an intense look.  "You were a communications officer,
Athena.  You'll know how to use the comunit, even if it's an older model. 
I'd do it, but the medtech told me I'm not supposed to move."
	Reluctantly, Athena left Milos' side to where the supplies were
kept.  Jolly came with her, and he brought the communicator out and set
it on the damp grass.  With a sigh, Athena examined it, seeing that the
readouts said that the energizer was at full power, and she set the
controls to emit the most powerful signal it could.
	"Do you think that'll be enough?" Jolly asked as he watched her
work.
	"It should," she mused, "but it'll only be a one-time signal.  Maybe
what would work even better would be to put it at three-quarters of its
full power, then use the rest to repeat it on the same channel like a
beacon.  It'll be weak in that there'll always be a limited amount of
power in the energizer so it can function properly, but it should still
be strong enough to be picked up a communications scanner."
	"That sounds like a plan," he agreed.
	"I thought so, too," she smiled, then entered in a few commands into
the unit, then leaned forward to speak into the unit.  "Attention, this
is the Colonial colony Whitby calling any ship in communication range. 
We have been attacked by Cylons and by another unidentified race, and we
are in need of assistance.  Please reply.  This message will be put on
automatic transmission on this communication band.  Please, by the Lords
of Kobol, answer us."
	As soon as she finished her statement, she punched in the code for
the repetition to begin.  Once complete, she sat back on her heels and
waited for it to implement.
	"It's working," she finally said as Jolly helped her stand up.  "Now
we just have to wait."
	Very few people were able to sleep that night, but Athena wasn't one
of them.  Eilan was sleeping soundly in a makeshift cradle inside the
cave, but Athena sat at the entrance.  A few metrons away, there was a
fire burning with several adults gathered around, talking about the
immediate future for Whitby.  She could see Jolly among them, and from
what she could tell, he was the only surviving member of the original
council.
	Athena's thoughts weren't on Whitby and the immediate future;
rather, she was struck by a phrase of her own that she had used in the
communique.  "Please, by the Lords of Kobol," she'd said.  A common
enough phrase, it was used both religiously, and in secular matters as a
type of oath.  It was also a phrase that she consciously never used, so
why did she use it now?
	Her mind traveled back to when she had realized that she didn't
believe in any kind of supreme being.  Her world had been destroyed, her
mother and brother killed, her other brother beginning to withdraw before
her very eyes, her father was about to be overwhelmed by responsibility,
and her own love life had died with the Holocaust.  What kind of
benevolent being would stand back and watch while all that injustice
could take place?
	She knew that Adama had been disappointed with her, though Apollo
never seemed to notice.  Her brother's own faith life, she knew, was
almost as tumultuous as her own, but that was about all she knew.  For
both of them to have a deeply religious father like Adama, it amused
Athena sometimes at how she and Apollo weren't like him in that area.
	But what did the phrase mean?  When the attack began, Athena
remembered saying a prayer, but that had been almost without a second
thought.  The more she thought about it, the stranger she found it, but
she couldn't think of why she had.
	"One day," her father had once said, and his words were coming back
loudly in Athena's mind, "you will find yourself with the need to turn to
someone greater than you.  When you do, you'll know what to do, even if
you don't want to admit it."
	Athena sighed as she watched the distant fire.  If that were the
case, maybe she was now admitting that she need to believe in a supreme
being, someone who would take pity and help them out of this disaster. 
But being the person she was, Athena wasn't quite ready to settle for
that.  She had always been daring, often challenging her parents while
she was a teenager in every matter that came up.  It was written in the
Book of the Word that one wasn't to challenge God, but Athena didn't
care.  She looked up at the stars that were shining brightly that night,
and spoke only so she and whatever great being there might be would only
hear.
	"Well, if you do exist, prove it.  Get us out of this, but give me a
sign that I'll be able to recognize.  If it comes, I'll give you a second
chance."
	Soon after her challenge, she fell asleep, only to be awakened a few
centars later as dawn broke across the sky.  There was shouting in the
distance, from the other side of town.  She assumed that the survivors
were going through the rubble, searching again for more survivors in
vain, but as the shouts continued, she knew that something was up.
	Rising stiffly from the ground, she made sure that Eilan was looked
after before she hurried off in that direction.  The burnt-out buildings
passed by quickly as she made her way, and to her surprise, she located
the source of activity at the comunit.  A group of six men and woman had
gathered around the comunit, where Jolly was examining the scanner's
output very carefully.
	"What is it?" she asked, and in the time it took for Jolly to
answer, she noticed that everyone looked tired and grungy.  She probably
didn't look much better.
	"I don't know," he finally said, sighing loudly.  "Well, not
exactly, anyway.  Something is coming through on the same channel that
our signal is broadcasting on."
	"What?"  She moved to Jolly's side so she could see the scanner
screen.  Studying the display for a few microns, she shook her head. 
"It's definitely a signal, but whatever it is, that's not quite
Colonial."
	One of the men sighed.  "Then it's not from the Galactica or another
battlestar?"
	"I don't think so," she agreed.
	"Can you tell what's being transmitted?" Jolly wondered.
	"Probably, though it might not sound too good on this unit," she
told them as she adjusted the controls so the output would match the
incoming signal.  After a few microns, she sat back on her heels.  "Cross
your fingers, because on the count of three..."
	Quickly reciting the numbers, Athena pressed a button, and the sound
of static filled the air.  She kept her hand on the comunit, ready to
adjust it, but she was saved from doing so when a male voice came over
the comline.
	"Greetings, Whitby, your signal was not broadcasted in vain.  We are
the Shelborn, and we will be at your world in a matter of your centons. 
We are mutual enemies of the Cylons, and as such, we are natural allies. 
We can aid you through this difficult period, if you wish.  Captain
Tarmin of the Shelborn, out."
	The assembled humans exchanged wary looks, then Jolly voiced their
collective concern.  "How did he know what a centon was?  And that was
Colonial Standard he was using, right?  The comunit wasn't using the
languatron that I could see."
	"This type of comunit doesn't even have a languatron," Athena told
him, shrugging.  "As for the other two questions, I guess we'll find out
when they arrive."
	A centar later, a ship appeared in the sky.  To the colonists'
relief, it wasn't of the same design as the ship that lay waste to the
Cylons and the Vipers.  Instead, it was chunkier, and had a more
utilitarian design that the futuristic one from a few days earlier.
	Athena, Jolly, and three civilians met the Shelborn as they
descended from their ship; the humans' first reaction when seeing the
aliens was an odd mix of fascination and apprehension.  Taller than any
of the humans, the Shelborn weren't covered by clothes, but by close
fitting technology that gave them an uneasy aura.  It was like looking at
a Cylon mixed with a human, and it took the humans several microns before
they could stop staring.
	The Shelborn at the front of the group was the individual who Athena
assumed sent out the greeting over the comline.  There really was no
insignia on his body that would easily identify him from the others as
being important.  Instead, he exuded an aura of authority about him that
very few other people Athena had met could project.
	"I am Tarmin," he announced, confirming Athena's thoughts.  His grey
eyes examined the humans as he spoke.  "I much apologize for not being
able to save your colony earlier, but we didn't know that you were being
attacked until long after the Cylons had departed."
	"How do you know about the Cylons?" Jolly asked him, crossing his
arms.  Athena had the feeling that the portly sergeant wasn't about to
believe the new arrivals, no matter what they offered to say.
	"We understand that you have many questions and doubts," Tarmin said
slowly, a benign smile on his face.  It was clearly meant to put the
humans at ease, but after everything that had happened in the past two
days, Athena knew that their worries and suspicions wouldn't be easily
assuaged.  "We can answer any question you put toward us, though we
cannot promise that you'll like everything you hear.  Nor do we expect to
believe everything.  We all have our suspicions."
	Athena saw Jolly giving her a strange look out of the corner of her
eye.  She didn't know what Jolly might think about the Shelborn, but she
knew that she was going to reserve her final judgment until she felt she
had enough information.
	"Well," said one of the civilians, a man named Varian, began.  He
had been there when the signal had come in over the comline, and he chose
to voice some of the concerns spoken then.  "Tell us, how are you able to
speak Colonial Standard?  And how do you know about the Cylons?"
	"We learned your language and about the Cylons at the same time,"
Tarmin explained.  "We encountered a colony from your star system; more
precisely, a man named Ravishol."
	"Arcta," Athena breathed, remembering the mission that Starbuck,
Apollo and Boomer had been sent on, along with a group of criminals, to
destroy the Cylon weapon that Ravishol had created.  "Of course!  How is
the doctor?"
	"I haven't personally met Ravishol, but I understand that he is
well.  Now, are we going to remain standing here on the tarmac for the
rest of the afternoon, or are we going to go sit somewhere to discuss how
my people can help yours?"
	Jolly, Varian and the other two civilians shrugged slightly, and
Athena realized that she was being delegated the position of leadership. 
Why her?  Was it because it was her voice that had been on the distress
signal, or was it because they all knew that she was Adama's daughter,
and it was the commander they had turned to in previous times of trouble?
	"I suppose we could return to the caves," she said slowly.  "But
before we go, we haven't been formally introduced.  I'm Athena, and this
is Jolly, Varian, Sten, and Maia."
	Tarmin nodded, and after he introduced his group, all of whom had
names that slipped through Athena's memory, the two groups headed back to
the caves.  On the way there, Athena took up the narrative of the attack,
and more specifically about the strange ship that had laid waste to the
fighters.  She watched the lead Shelborn as she did, but the only
reaction he gave was a nod.
	"Yes, we've heard of them," he replied.  "We don't know much about
them, but they seem to dislike conflict more than anything else.  If your
ships were fighting against the Cylons, who almost everyone know to be
major aggressors, then they were just caught in the crossfire
accidentally."
	"Caught in the crossfire?" Jolly snorted.  "Tell that to the pilots
who lost their lives, and who would have otherwise survived if those...
well, whatever in Hades they are, hadn't interfered!"
	"Accidents happen," the Shelborn said gruffly.  "Tell me, how many
of your people survived the Cylon strike?"
	"Not even half," Maia replied from the back of the group.  "Most of
the bodies were destroyed with our town, and the rest are buried in an
area beyond the caves."
	"And these caves are now your homes?"  Tarmin looked at the area far
ahead of them, then at the burned shells of buildings as they passed
them.  "Have you no other means of creating dwellings?  Or were they all
destroyed in the attack?"
	"That's precisely it," Athena said.
	With a short nod, the groups fell into silence.  As they approached
the caves, the colonists stared at the new arrivals.  The adults were a
little more discreet than the children, who stopped in their play to
watch the Shelborn pass by; their parents paused enough to take a look
before returning to their work.
	Tarmin examined the scene, at the dirty faced children and the weary
adults.  His face was impassive, and his grey eyes were taking in every
detail.  As soon as Athena showed him to the cave that was used as a
meeting place, he turned to her and said, "We may be able to assist you."
	"Oh?  How?"  She winced at the blas‚ way her words came out, but she
didn't want to sound too excited.  She could tell that Jolly was having a
problem with the entire situation, since he had been frowning since
hearing the comment about the warriors' fates.
	"It might take a sectar or so," he said slowly, "but my people
should be able to give you the building supplies, or the technology you
may be lacking, to help you reestablish.  In exchange, you can help us
with our fight against the Cylons.  Nothing too much, we can see you need
all your resources, including people, but perhaps in time."
	Athena cleared her throat nervously.  "Well, we appreciate your
offer, Tarmin, but we need to put it past the rest of our people.  If you
and your party wait here, we'll go put the matter to a vote."
	"Of course."
	Leaving Sten behind to act in the dual role of guard and host, the
other four humans soon gathered as many of the adults together to discuss
Tarmin's offer.  To Athena's disappointment, and to Jolly's downright
disapproval, there wasn't much of a debate of any shape or form.  The
determination to eke out a living on this world still burned fiercely in
many colonists, and they were willing to accept help when it was offered. 
After all, if they were able to give the Shelborn help in fighting the
Cylons, then it would be as an independent world.
	Jolly presented the case that they didn't know anything about the
Shelborn, and he pressured them into considering that they held an
ulterior motive for wanting to help the humans.  His concerns were played
down by Varian, much to the warrior's disgust.  It was decided that
should the Shelborn make any kind of move that was deemed inappropriate
-- and the word "if" was used very strongly -- then the humans were to
reject the offer of help.
	Unhappily, Athena returned to Tarmin to give the verdict, which the
Shelborn received with good cheer.  His group soon returned to their
ship, where arrangements were apparently being made for more Shelborn
craft to arrive with what the humans needed.
	In the next three sectons, Whitby was rebuilt at a phenomenal rate. 
The Shelborn brought in their own architectural team, who suggested that
the colonists continue to use the caves as a home, and to development
them into actual dwellings.  Athena had to admit that the results were
promising to be spectacular -- they were large, spacious, and efficient
in their use of energy.  The Shelborn had introduced some of their own
technology, which included a type of energizer that was shielded from
being picked up on any scanners, and required much less power than the
very best energizers manufactured in the Colonies.
	Jolly, Giles and Brie were getting very unsettled, Athena noticed;
they were waiting for something to happen.  They had informed her of
their concern one evening, especially when Jolly had discovered
something.
	"Did you know that the comunit isn't working anymore?" he asked.
	"I haven't checked it lately," she admitted.  Eilan had begun to
teeth, leaving Athena with very little time to check on the
communications unit.  Now that Jolly mentioned it, she began to feel the
concern that her friends were showing.  "Why, what happened?"
	"I thought the energizer had died," he explained, "especially since
it's an older model, and we had it working continuously.  I didn't bother
to turn it off once the Shelborn arrived, because who knows?  Maybe the
Pegasus is out there.  But now?  The piece of felgercarb won't work, and
it's not the energizer.  I think someone played around with it, and most
likely, it was deliberate."
	"You think that it was sabotage?" Athena asked.  "By whom?"
	"Looks like it, but I don't know who, just yet.  Maybe it was one of
ours, maybe it was the Shelborn.  I've got reasons to suspect both." 
Jolly shook his head, then sighed.  "Something strange is going on, and I
hope we don't find out that we've bitten off more than we can chew when
the Cylon hits the fan."
	The only problem was that there was no indication of when, or even
if, the proverbial Cylon would hit the fan.  The Shelborn, now numbering
somewhere in the thirties, were extremely helpful, never demanding that
the humans do anything.  If anything, they were trying to get the humans
to be as grateful as possible, but there was nothing that could be done
to make them feel otherwise.
	Every night, Athena had repeated the same challenge she had uttered
the night of the attack, but as time progressed, it grew more pointed and
detailed.  If there was a supreme being, she wanted a specific kind of
help, one that she would be able to recognize and trust.  As such, she
didn't believe that the Shelborn were what she had in mind.
	Nearly a sectar after the destruction of Whitby, Athena was out
taking Eilan for a walk.  The fresh air seemed to help with her
daughter's cranky disposition, and Athena used the time she carried her
daughter around to think.  In the sectars since the colony was
established, a walking trail had been created around the limits of the
town.  As Athena walked around the now familiar path, she wondered about
just what they were going to do with the Shelborn.
	Eilan whimpered slightly, bringing Athena out of her thoughts as she
was halfway around the trail.  There was a high-pitched sound in the air,
prompting her to believe that the Cylons were returning.  She panicked,
realizing that they were clear targets for an attack, and the caves were
too far away.  Before she could madly dash for safety, she suddenly
realized that the sound wasn't from Raiders, but from a shuttle.
	A Colonial shuttle!
	Looking up, Athena spotted the familiar shape descending toward the
tarmac on the other side of the ruins, and was about to land in the
perimeter of the Shelborn ships.  With a cry for joy, she started
hurrying as best she could toward it, all the while trying not to jostle
Eilan too much.
	Jolly had gathered with the other warriors and a few civilians on
the landing strip by the time Athena arrived, and she noticed that the
Shelborn were uneasily staying where they were.  Their faces didn't
appear to be worried, but instead, it was in their body language and the
way they stood very still.
	Instead of seeing the familiar code for the Galactica on the side of
the shuttle, Athena was greeted by the sight of a Pegasus identification
as the craft settled to the ground.  Grinning as she realized that she
would have to congratulate Milos on his lucky guess about the Pegasus'
true fate, Athena waited for the shuttle's hatch to open so she could
greet the warriors.
	She almost dropped Eilan when the warriors finally emerged, and she
had to grasp her daughter tightly to her as she heard Jolly and Giles'
laughs.  She didn't think that there was much to laugh about as she
stared at the hatch, her expression changing quickly to shock.
	"Hi, guys," Starbuck greeted, his familiar grin on his face as he
surveyed the faces that ranged between amazement and disbelief.  "Did you
miss me?"

Part 11 - The dead-end road

	The signal from Whitby for the next few days faded in and out,
acting as an intergalactic navbuoy as the Pegasus made its way to the
besieged colony.  Excitement was rising as the battlestar's scanners
finally picked up the star system in question, and in the few centars
before their arrival, Silver Spar Squadron went through their final
preparations to go down to the surface.
	In the few days between first picking up the signal and now with
their impending arrival, Starbuck had held mixed thoughts about what
little information they knew about the colony.  It was colonized by
people from the Twelve Worlds, that much they knew by the familiar terms,
and by Athena's voice.  At least, by the voice they believed to be hers.
	The Athena aspect was the part of the situation that bothered
Starbuck the most.  What was she doing there, on the planet?  Had she
been on a mission of some kind, and the shuttle crashed?  The Galactica
might not have been able to retrieve her, just like it was in Starbuck's
own case.  But she had said that Whitby was a colony, and the term
implied that this was a deliberate and permanent venture.  If so, why
would Adama let his last surviving child go like that?  He knew there was
much more to the story than they could currently even contemplate.
	If the situation was bothering Starbuck, then it was making Ila feel
ten times worse.  By now, Starbuck knew that Ila was beginning to be
worried sick.  It was three sectons now since Apollo's accident on the
Shelborn ship, and he still had yet to emerge from his coma, despite all
the medical exams that stated that he was physically fine.  Now, Ila had
to worry about the upcoming reunion with Athena, and the issue that would
bring up.
	Starbuck decided to visit her in the centar before the mission prep
began,  and he found her in her now customary place at her vigil over
Apollo's lifepod.  She looked up when he entered, and by the look in her
blue eyes, Starbuck knew that she knew exactly what was going on.
	"How long until our arrival?" she asked, giving him a slight smile
before returning her gaze to Apollo's face.
	"Just under two centars," he told her.  "We can't tell much yet from
the long-range scanners just yet, but it looks like the Cylons were last
in the area about a sectar ago."
	"What about the Shelborn?" she asked, a deliberate tone in her
voice.  As she spoke, she looked at the implant in Apollo's temple. 
Though there wasn't much of a fear of what condition Apollo's implant
might be in, since Doctor Tomalea had more or less ascertained that it
was functioning at a minimal level.  Instead, the question at hand was
about what the Shelborn would do if Apollo came into their possession
again, or if the fate of Ravishol and the clones that had brought Apollo
into the universe again would be repeated with the colonists at Whitby. 
There had been the understanding since Apollo had found the clue about
the colony's existence that the Shelborn had made themselves welcome at
Whitby.  What that meant, they weren't exactly sure just at the moment.
	"There's definite signs of Shelborn activity, but they don't seem to
be nothing us just yet.  Their energy signatures are definitely more
recent, just as we would expect."
	"In Athena's communique, she said that they were attacked by the
Cylons and another group of aliens."  Ila finally turned away from her
son to look at Starbuck.  "She meant the Cymorth, didn't she?"
	"Well, we don't know that," he started, but she cut him off.
	"Doesn't it make sense?" she asked, her blue eyes narrowed slightly. 
"The Cylons attacked the planet, then the Cymorth attacked them.  If
Poinciana's information was correct that she got from the computechs,
then the Shelborn are definitely allied with the Cymorth.  Attack a
group, then use that new and sensitive weakness to get what you want. 
The Shelborn want allies in their quest against the Cylons.  I don't know
how they managed that with the Cymorth, but the case with Ravishol was
because they were afraid of the Cylons coming back."
	"There's a point there, but..."  Starbuck shook his head.  "Frak,
you're probably right."
	Ila cast him a half-smile.  "And I probably am.  Sometimes, I hate
being right.  Now get going and bring my girl back to me safely."
	With a quick nod, Starbuck left the room, but not before saying a
quick word to Apollo.  He was really missing his friend's company now
that they had been reunited, and he was really looking forward to the
micron when Apollo finally woke up.
	The mission prep took only a few centons, and Hagan made their
purpose clear.  They were to secure the colony, help the wounded if any
remained, and to deal with the Shelborn.  The Colonel made it clear that
he would be the main officer in charge of that part of the mission, while
Starbuck was put in charge of dealing with the colonists.  The Viper
escort would be flown by Bina and Sheelah.
	Due to the uncertainty of how the Shelborn would react when the
Pegasus' shuttle arrived, the trip down to the surface took longer than
usual as the Vipers scouted ahead.  It was a tense half centar, but
Starbuck found that he was able to take his mind away from the tedious
passing of the centons as he reminisced about Athena and their history
together.
	Well, the truth be told, it wasn't his idea to start the
reminiscing.  Ever curious about matters dealing with Apollo's past,
Poinciana was the one who started the memories.  With a pointed
expression on her face, she leaned forward across the aisle to face
Starbuck.
	"So Apollo has a sister?" was the question in particular.  Starbuck
froze as he heard her voice, watching her as he wondered what exactly he
was supposed to say.  He remember all too well the night Apollo had come
to his quarters, furiously angry at him for telling Poinciana about Sheba
and Serina.
	Answering the question might be a start, and Starbuck nodded. 
"Yeah, Athena is her name.  She's seven yahrens younger than him, and she
served on the Galactica as a bridge officer."
	"I see," she replied, musing through the information.  "I wonder
what she's doing here?"
	"I wish I know," he told her, as silently, he went through all the
yahrens he had known Athena.  He remembered meeting his new friend's
younger siblings for the first time.  They had an assignment due for
their science class, and Apollo invited Starbuck over so they could work. 
The secondary school let out a centar before the primary school, and
while the two boys were busy planning their display, a loud ruckus came
from the main floor of the house.  Starbuck had looked at Apollo in
alarm, but his friend only smiled and explained in one simple statement. 
"It's just my little brother and sister."
	Astonished that only two bodies could make that much noise, Starbuck
followed him down to the kitchen where the culprits could be found.  When
he first saw the two dark heads, his first thoughts were that they must
be twins, but as Apollo introduced them, he learned that Zac and Athena
were just very close in age.  He later discovered that they were fourteen
sectars apart.
	Athena, he remembered, had been very shy as an eight yahren old, but
she nevertheless warmed up quickly to the new arrival.  They would tease
each other throughout the ensuing yahrens, but nothing developed beyond
that until the day she arrived on the Galactica as a fresh, new
lieutenant.  Apollo had known the other pilots on the battlestar a little
too well, and knew that Athena would be a target for unwanted male
company that she wouldn't know how to deal with.  Whether the definition
of unwanted was Apollo's or Athena's; and whether or not Athena really
knew how to deal with the opposite sex, Apollo enlisted Starbuck and
Boomer's help.
	Looking back, Starbuck wondered about what had gone through Apollo's
mind when he made the request, because it was a near recipe for disaster. 
Almost overnight, it seemed, Athena and Starbuck became an item, which
had nearly driven Apollo insane.  Unable to support one because he cared
too much for the other, he had only been able to withdraw and let the
inevitable happen -- the end of the relationship.  Although they had been
a nice couple, they were too much alike:  opinionated, sensitive,
energetic...  The list went on and on.
	In the beginning, Athena had blamed Cassiopia for the breakup,
because she had appeared on the scene just when they went their separate
ways, but Starbuck remembered all too well the little conversation in the
women's barracks when Starbuck had come to make amends for an argument
they'd had earlier.  They were both stressed, and both grieving for lost
friends, family -- Zac had been like a little brother to Starbuck, and
most importantly, lost dreams.  With the Colonies gone, their hopes were
gone, or so they thought.  Starbuck had believed that maybe, if the two
of them became engaged, their problems could work out.  The Holocaust
meant that they had a new beginning in everything, including
relationships.
	But Athena had refused, and though their relationship dragged on for
sectons afterward, they finally went their separate ways.  Or something
close to that, which was a lot more messy than it sounded.  While
Starbuck had been able to begin a new relationship with Cassiopia, Athena
stayed where she was, almost festering in depression.  It had taken a
long while for her to get out of it, and to Starbuck, that had seemed to
be when Apollo had died.
	"We're going down to the atmosphere!" Hagan called, interrupting
Starbuck's thoughts as he spoke loudly.  The colonel was sitting directly
behind the cockpit, thus having an avian's eye view of what was
happening.  "There's no sign of Shelborn movement in the airspace, so the
Vipers are going to stay in orbit, on the lookout for any Cymorth or
Shelborn ships that might be nearby.  Hey, Starbuck, are you ready for
your role?"
	"Yeah!" he replied, trying to grin confidentially.  He felt more and
more nervous with each passing centon, and he wondered if it had to do
with the fact that he was going to see his friends' infamous Shelborn. 
Of course, he'd heard all about them from Apollo, but seeing was another
thing again from hearing.
	"Good.  We have another five centons or so, and..."  Hagan's voice
trailed off as he turned in his seat so he could see the cockpit better. 
"Franca!  What the frak is that?"
	The pilot frowned, then shook her head.  "Sorry, sir, but I've never
seen anything like it before."
	The warriors in the back of shuttle looked at each other uneasily,
while Barthel called, "What is it?  What are you looking at?"
	Hagan stared for another few microns, then reported back to the
others.  "Well, for one thing, the colony is there, or what used to be a
colony.  It was razed to the ground by the Cylons, and I can see the
wrecks of several Vipers littered around the perimeter.  The tarmac is on
the outside of the ruins, and there are about forty Shelborn ships there,
but that's not it..."
	"Then what is the thing?" Poinciana demanded, exchanging concerned
looks with Starbuck.
	"It's what the Shelborn have appeared to build," the colonel
continued at last.  "There are caves a few dozen metrons from the town,
and if what I'm seeing is correct, they're building the new city inside
the caves!  I think we're in more trouble that we thought, because if
they're putting this much effort into something, the Shelborn really want
something in return."
	"Felgercarb," Starbuck muttered, wondering how much trouble Athena
and her people were in.
	The last few centons went by quickly, and before long, the shuttle
was nestled on the outside of the tarmac.  Starbuck stood, straightening
his tunic as he heard Franca's report that there were several humans
gathering outside.
	He took a deep breath, but felt Hagan's hand grasp his arm before he
could open the hatch.  "Don't go yet, and listen to what I have to say. 
We don't know how much control the Shelborn have over these people.  Be
ready to draw your weapons at a micron's notice, even shorter. 
Understood?"
	"Right."  Starbuck nodded, meeting Hagan's brown eyes.  "Anything
else?"
	"One more thing."  Hagan looked directly at Starbuck, then at the
other warriors sitting around them.  "Don't mention Apollo's name in
front of the Shelborn, and the same thing for anything to do with him.  I
understand that his sister is on Whitby, Starbuck, so if you tell her
about Apollo, make sure it's away from them.  We don't want them to get
any ideas."
	"I won't," he promised, feeling awkward at the order.
	"Good," the colonel nodded, then gave Starbuck a slap on the arm. 
"Well, what are you waiting for?  Go on!"
	The shuttle's hatch opened, and as he stepped out into the sunshine,
Starbuck took a micron to look around at the surrounding area.  The air
was fresh, with a lot of moisture and the smell of greenery surrounding
them.  Even so, there was a faint trace of smoke left in the air.  He
wrinkled his nose daintily, then realized that he was the focus of
several pairs of eyes.
	He grinned at the stunned expressions.  The shock quickly wore off
Jolly and Giles' faces to be replaced with ecstatic grins of their own. 
Behind them, Athena wasn't affected by their laughter.  Holding tightly
to the dark-skinned baby she held in her arms, she was staring at
Starbuck in shock.
	Knowing that he wouldn't have another chance to make a bad joke like
this, his grin widened as he spoke.  "Hi, guys.  Did you miss me?"
	Unable to stand still while a phantom of their long lost friend
stood directly in front of them, Jolly and Giles rushed up to him
nonetheless, discovering that he was quite real.  Starbuck felt himself
being held tightly, and he nearly had the breath knocked out of his as
both of his friends pounding his back in sheer delight.
	"You daggit, you!" Giles sputtered, unable to make a complete
sentence as he pulled back from the three-way embrace to look at
Starbuck, then grabbed him again.
	"I'm glad to see you, too," Starbuck laughed.  Behind Giles, Jolly
had pulled away for good, standing there like a proud uncle as he
surveyed the two.  "Actually, in more ways than one."
	"We all thought you were dead, back on that planet," Jolly told him,
then shook his head in disbelief.  "We should never have doubted.  I'm
sorry we couldn't go back, but --"
	"Ah, never mind," he said, waving away his comments, knowing that
this was what he expected to hear them say about his so-called demise. 
During the first few sectars of being marooned, Starbuck had gone through
those very thoughts himself.  He knew why they hadn't come, because of
the commander's policy, but still, for Sagan's sake!  He was Starbuck, a
lieutenant first class!  That meant more than a comment that basically
meant, "Oops, sorry," on his service record.
	Finally, he went up to Athena, who was still standing there in
shock.  The child was moving restlessly in her arms, but Athena didn't
seem to notice as she stared at Starbuck in shock.  When he approached
her, she blinked her eyes a few times, then smiled very hesitantly.
	"Hello, Starbuck," she said slowly, adjusting the baby to rest on
her hip.  There was a slight tone of wonder in her voice, which made him
feel amused.  "Found a new home?"
	He grinned at her, "You could say that, Athena.  And likewise, I'm
sure."  The baby twisted her head to look at Starbuck, with an expression
that was familiar to him.  He's seen it several times on Boomer's face,
and Starbuck met her brown-eyed gaze in amazement.  "Hi, there, kiddo. 
What's up?"
	She reached out her arms to him, to Starbuck's amazement, and Athena
laughed as she handed the baby to him.  She sighed.  "Like father, like
daughter.  Her name is Eilan."
	"That's a lovely name," he said, watching as Eilan settled in his
arms and stopped her earlier fussing.  He looked around for any signs of
the child's father, but couldn't see his friend anywhere.  "So, I take it
Boomer is her father?  I don't see him here.  Was he injured earlier?"
	Athena's smile faded.  "He's not on Whitby."
	Something about her expression told him not to pursue the subject
here, so he turned to see the rest of the Pegasus warriors standing in
the hatch, looking at him expectantly.  He shifted Eilan onto his hip so
he could free one arm.  "Guys, these are my new shipmates.  Colonel
Hagan, Captain Poinciana, Lieutenants Franca and Barthel..."
	Poinciana was scrutinizing the assembled inhabitants of Whitby, and
her blue eyes had suddenly focused on Athena.  Her face showed a brief
display of recognition, then quickly faded as Starbuck introduced the
three ex-Galactican warriors.
	"So," Starbuck finished, smiling slightly, "that's that."
	"All the Shelborn are over there?" Hagan asked, taking command of
the situation as he stepped in front of Starbuck to talk to the three. 
He motioned to the other side of the tarmac where several tall shapes
could be seen.
	"Not all of them," Jolly told him.  "Most are working in the caves."
	"How much help have you accepted from them?" he pressed.
	"We personally haven't, but the civilians in the population are
welcoming them with almost open arms," Jolly said, exchanging a glance
with Athena and Giles.  "Personally, most of us present right now don't
trust them.  The others, well...  They're still in shock over the attack,
and they accepted the help.  It's the only way I can explain it."
	"You're actually considering accepting their offer?" Poinciana
interrupted, completely incredulous and impervious to Hagan's sharp look. 
Her blue eyes were wide as she looked first at the group from Whitby,
then at Starbuck in shock.  "Are you insane?"
	"Hey," Giles said, his voice defensive.  "They haven't even named
their price, whatever it is."
	"And when they do, are you going to accept it?" she demanded.  "And
if you don't like it, what are you going to do then?  Refuse it, and risk
their wrath at their gift of assistance not being repaid?"
	"You seem to know a lot about the Shelborn," Jolly commented, his
voice slightly suspicious as he looked at Starbuck.  "Have you
encountered them before?  I take it you have..."
	"Me?  Not personally, but, uh," Starbuck cleared his throat
slightly, "we have some crewmembers with a little too much experience
with the Shelborn.  Others have had more casual meetings."
	Athena frowned slightly.  "And what's the impression that the
crewmembers have had with the Shelborn?  Good?  Bad?  Mildly unpleasant?"
	There was a slightly indelicate snort from Poinciana, but Starbuck
continued speaking without paying heed to her.  "It wasn't the most
pleasant of experiences, and he hasn't been the same since."
	He watched their reactions for a microns, while wincing inwardly
about his oblique references to Apollo.  There was silence as they
considered the information, while in the distance, the Shelborn appeared
to be getting restless.  Hagan cleared his throat.  "If you'll excuse me,
I'll speak to the Shelborn.  Barthel and Franca, come with me.  Starbuck,
Poinciana, stay with our hosts."
	"What's he doing?" Giles wondered as the three warriors headed in
the aliens' direction.  "Going to talk about the weather?"
	"I haven't the foggiest," Starbuck admitted.  "This is all so new to
me, all the different alien groups that the Pegasus has encountered over
the yahrens, that I can barely catch up."
	"He's probably trying to reason with them so your people don't end
up like other groups who didn't know better," Poinciana said hotly,
giving a glare to both Jolly and Giles.  "You should see what they did to
her brother!"
	Athena's face paled visibly.  "Whose brother?"
	The captain regarded her with a neutral look for a few microns. 
"Yours, of course!"
	"I don't know what you're talking about.  Both of my brothers are
dead, and have been for..."  She trailed off, turned to look at Starbuck,
who still had Eilan in his arms.  Starbuck, who had come back from the
dead.  "Aren't they dead?"
	"Well, to start out with," he began, shifting the baby into a more
comfortable position, "Zac is definitely dead, but...  Uh, Athena, I
guess it's good news in a way, but, um...  Well, Apollo's alive."
	This time, Athena literally staggered back a few steps, her balance
unsteady as she tried to accept what Starbuck was telling her.  She
blinked a few times, realizing that her mouth had fallen agape in shock. 
In a bare whisper, she managed, "Oh, my God..."
	The humorous look on Jolly's face was mirrored on Giles, as they
each shook their heads in amazement.  Jolly actually laughed as he said,
"Of course, why didn't we guess?  Where's there one, there's the other. 
It's the way it's always been."
	Giles echoed that sentiment, while Athena continued to stare at
Starbuck in pure shock.  After a centon, she slowly shook her head, then
said in a very quiet voice, "Then where is he?  Why didn't he come down
with you guys?"
	Seeing that Poinciana was going to open her mouth to make another
comment that would throw things off, Starbuck quickly spoke.  "Giles, why
don't you take the captain here to see what the situation is in the rest
of the colony?  I'll stay here and talk to Jolly and Athena."
	With a slight nod, Giles led Poinciana away as Starbuck motioned to
his two friends to enter with him into the shuttle.  As soon as they were
safely inside, he sighed loudly.  "Well, do you want the long story, or
the summarized version?"
	The two exchanged glanced.  "Maybe the highlights would be best,"
Jolly said, seeing that Athena was still stunned from the news that
Apollo still lived, knowing that it went against everything she had
accepted to be true.
	With a grin as he looked down at Eilan, who had taken to playing
with one of his buckles, he took a deep breath.  "It's going to sound
strange, I know, but I give you my word that it's true.  If I have to
swear on everything I believe in, know that this is the truth."
	Trying not to be too hurried as he spoke, he summarized everything
that Apollo had told him about the past six yahrens, and then the more
recent events.  The reactions were mixed, he noted, as he looked from
face to face.  At least Eilan seemed to be taking things well, since she
was more intent on trying to fit the buckle into her mouth; her mother
and Jolly were different stories.  Athena was sitting back in her seat,
looking as though she didn't want to believe what she was hearing,
especially when Starbuck mentioned that Ila was alive as well.  Jolly, on
the other hand, was listening as his eyes grew wider and wider.
	"So that's why he's not down here," Starbuck finally said.  "He's in
the Life Center, still out cold from the overload he had.  Your mother's
with him.  And that's why Poinciana is so upset, because it's the
Shelborn who put the implant in his head in the first place."
	"But they, uh, didn't expect one of the clones to turn out to be
really Apollo," Jolly pointed out, then shook his head.  "If it weren't
for the fact you gave your word, I'd say that this is the most
hair-brained, far-fetched and improbable story I've ever had the pleasure
of listening to.  It even beats the old tales my uncle would tell me as a
kid."
	"Well," Starbuck grinned weakly as he tried to keep the buckle out
of Eilan's reach, "you're both taking it a little better than I did."
	"There's only one question I have," Athena said, and she looked
Starbuck directly in the eyes.  "Where did they get Apollo's body from? 
And when you said that you were positive that it wasn't Apollo at first,
how did you know?  You seemed pretty sure in a way that I'm not sure I
would be."
	Starbuck felt his face pale slightly.  Should he tell them the
truth, or should just gloss over what had happened?  Looking from
Athena's concerned face to Jolly's curious one, he decided to glance over
the truth.  There would be a time for it, preferably when Apollo was
awake to defend him.  He knew he wasn't up to the opposition he knew he'd
get if they found out that he had hidden the truth from them for all
those yahrens, even if it wasn't his idea to begin with.
	"It's just one of things that you know," he shrugged.  "And he knew
some things about our relationship that no one else knew about.  Oh, and
not to mention having the same kind of moods like our Apollo used to
always be in."
	Neither looked overtly convinced, and Starbuck tried not to sigh too
noticeably.  They'd have to see for themselves when Apollo finally woke
up from his coma to interact with the others.  Jolly's half-hearted
comment of, "Well, we'll see," summarized exactly how he expected them to
be.
	Even so, he wasn't surprised when Athena asked, "When can I see him? 
And Mother, too.  I wouldn't mind getting Eilan off this planet, if
something does go wrong with the Shelborn, which is the impression I'm
getting right now."
	"I don't know," he said truthfully.  "We'll talk to Hagan when we
get the chance, and he'll decide.  In the meantime, though, keep your
guard up."
	"We do know, though I wish we did before."  Jolly shook his head
before speaking again.  "Starbuck, you should have been here during the
attack.  We weren't the only ones under attack, because when the Cylons
were fighting with us, a new ship came into the atmosphere.  I have the
impression that it was firing mainly at the Cylons, now that I've had the
opportunity to review the events in my head, but they also hit most of
our Vipers.  It was the strangest ship, too, unlike anything I've seen
before in my life!"
	Remembering all the speculation about whether or not the Shelborn
and the Cymorth were indeed allied, and in what way, Starbuck tried to
get as many details as possible.  He listed out as many characteristics
of Cymorth crafts as he could, and every words and descriptors, Jolly
would nod.
	"Ouch," was all Starbuck could say when he finished.
	"Do you recognize them?" Athena asked.
	"In a way, but first, how long between the attack and the Shelborn's
arrival?"  He had a feeling that he knew the answer already, and that it
would solve a large piece of the puzzle.  "How many centars, or days?"
	"We sent out the signal a few centars after the battle," she
replied, "and the next morning, we heard from the Shelborn  So it was the
next day, and not even twenty-four centars, either."
	Starbuck sighed, shaking his head.  "Then it has to be true. 
Felgercarb!"  He noticed the strange looks both Jolly and Athena were
giving him, and smiled shakily.  "Don't worry, it's a long story.  Just
be glad we're here now."
	"So what do we do now?" Jolly asked, glancing at the shuttle hatch. 
"Think we'd better check to see what the Colonel is up to?"
	"Yeah, I guess."  Holding Eilan carefully in his arms, Starbuck
stood and grinned down at the baby.  "You know, she's big for her age.  I
think Derdre was half her size at this age, but I remember Josce getting
pretty big as a baby."
	Athena smiled.  "Yes, I remember Boomer making more than a few
comments about that, but then again, from all the baby pictures I've seen
of Apollo, he grew pretty quickly, too.  And speaking of which," her
expression sobered slightly as she spoke, "when can I see him?"
	"As soon as I can get you up to the ship," he told her, then glanced
at Jolly.  "You, too, buddy.  Cain's going to want to hear all about
this, I'm sure, and Hagan will agree with me.  Oh, and by the way, just
trust me and don't mention anything about Apollo in front of the
Shelborn.  Okay?"
	"Poinciana sort of did," Jolly pointed out, frowning.
	"Yeah, and if Poinciana jumped off a cliff," he shot back, feeling
irritated but intrigued by the notion he was suggestion, "would you do
that, too?"
	"Uh, no," he replied, a strange note in his voice.  Starbuck sighed
as he indicated the exit hatch.  In a micron, they were back in the
sunshine, and they headed immediately for Hagan's position.
	The tall shapes that were gathered around Hagan, Barthel and Franca
were indistinct to Starbuck while he and his friends approached them. 
His eyes widened as soon as he could see every aspect about them.  He
recognized the intricate technological design that he saw nearly everyday
on Apollo's implant, but seeing it on almost every part of the aliens'
bodies was downright unnerving.  It had to be uncomfortable to go around
looking like that!  If it weren't for the implants and what might be
called armor that shielded and covered every centimetron of their bodies,
they would be naked, even though their so-called decorations left little
enough to the imagination.
	To Starbuck, however, he was mildly repulsed by what he saw in front
of him.  Even though Apollo had told him in his tales that the Shelborn
were intent on defeating the Cylons, they certainly were doing it by
playing the same game that their cybernetic "mentors" had started.  If it
weren't for the few patches of skin that were uncovered, they could have
been Cylon, for all Starbuck knew and cared.
	He found himself to be the focus of several pairs of grey eyes as he
ended up next to Hagan's.  The colonel's face was slightly flushed,
meaning that he was getting frustrated.  He flashed Starbuck an
exasperated look as he turned to the lieutenant to pull him aside.
	"Excuse me for a micron," Hagan said to the Shelborn who appeared to
be in charge, then dragged Starbuck by the arm until they were a few
metrons away.  "Starbuck, I want you to take Jolly and Athena up to the
Pegasus.  Send Jolly to Cain and Helen, and while you're at it, tell Cain
that I want three shuttles down here as soon as possible to evacuate the
colonists who wish to leave.  I also want armed warriors to supervise the
evacuation.  These Shelborn, their leader's named is Tarmin, seem pretty
convinced that the humans that live on this planet are their allies, and
can't be moved.  We might have trouble, if I don't get the situation
under control."
	"Wouldn't you be upset if you put hard effort into something, and
didn't get anything in return?" Starbuck shot back, then sighed.  "I
don't like them, even if I didn't already know all that about them."
	"I'm not surprised," he said wryly.  "Dismissed, Lieutenant.  I'll
keep the other warriors with me, by the way."
	Nodding, Starbuck left with Athena and Jolly, telling them of
Hagan's orders.  Before they could head back to the shuttle, Athena
glanced back at the caves.  "Just a centon, there's something I want to
get.  Keep Eilan with you on the shuttle, I'll be right back."
	Before Starbuck could say anything, she ran off toward the caves. 
Both men watched after her with worried expressions, then headed back to
the shuttle.  Handing the baby to Jolly, Starbuck started running through
the pre-launch routines when he heard Athena, out of breath, return to
the shuttle with a bag clutched in her hands.
	Sooner than Starbuck would have expected, they were on the Pegasus,
and he noticed that both Athena and Jolly were nervous as they set foot
on the battlestar's deck.  Deciding that he'd take the guests first to
Cain's office to drop Jolly off, then to the Life Center to meet up with
Ila, Starbuck escorted them to the nearest lift.
	Cain was very formal when he admitted the three warriors into his
office, where he and Helen had gathered.  Starbuck had to laugh at
Jolly's surprise when the Commander remembered his name, even after
fourteen yahrens.  He smiled warmly at Athena, though Starbuck could see
the worry in his eyes as he greeted Athena.  Even so, Athena didn't seem
to notice, and they all had to smile when he commented that he was adding
onto his collection of intergalactic loiterers, even if they were
colonists.
	Leaving Jolly behind as soon as Hagan's request was relayed,
Starbuck noticed that Athena was now hurrying to the Life Center. 
Holding her daughter tightly in her arms, she strode quickly down the
corridors, making it to the area in less than six centons.
	Ila was being kept company by Meve, who was sitting on her lap; and
the two were talking as they watched over Apollo.  Both looked up when
Starbuck entered with Eilan and Athena, and while Meve looked curious at
the new arrivals, Ila stared at the sight of her daughter.  After a few
microns of silence, the siress lifted Meve off her lap so she could go to
her daughter.
	Starbuck found himself with Eilan in his arms again as the mother
and daughter embraced, and Starbuck smiled at their happiness.  There was
little enough of it lately in their lives that any hint of it was
welcomed.
	Watching from her new perch at Apollo's bedside, Meve watched their
reunion silently.  Finally, she looked up at Starbuck, a quizzical look
on her face.  "Who's that?"
	He moved to avoid the two, who were crying as they held tightly onto
each other, then sat in Ila's vacant chair.  "That's Apollo's sister,
Meve.  And this is Athena's daughter, Eilan."
	The little girl smiled at the baby, reaching out to hold one of
Eilan's pudgy hands.  Eilan returned the smile, which made Meve laugh. 
"She's so cute!  Can I keep her?"
	"Uh, you'd better ask her mother that," Starbuck grinned, especially
as Ila and Athena separated from their reunion.  Athena had a smile on
her face as she regarded the small child who was watching Eilan with
wonder.  "What do you say, Athena?"
	"It's a lot of work," Athena told her, smiling gently.  "Babies can
be very messy, you know, and they sleep a lot so you can't play with them
as much as you might with someone your own age."
	"I don't have any playmates my own age," Meve replied, glancing up
from Eilan.  "As my mommy said, I have to make do with what we have here. 
So you're Apollo's sister, then?"
	"I am," Athena replied.  She was distracted for a few microns as she
studied her brother's face.  Her own face grew solemn as she reached out
to brush the side of his cheek with her fingers, as though reassuring
herself that he was indeed real.  She had to smile, though, when Ila
moved back to her chair to pick up her granddaughter from Starbuck's lap. 
Eilan laughed at the funny faces that Ila made for her, which finally
made Athena laugh, too.  "Father always used to make those same faces
whenever he was with Eilan, and Josce, too.  He said that they both
laughed the way Apollo, Zac and I did when we were babies."
	"You three were very cheerful babies," Ila replied, holding Eilan
close to her.  One of her fingers was being grasped tightly with both of
Eilan's tiny hands, and the baby was concentrating intensely on her new
toy.  "Except there were times when Apollo would get so excited when he
laughed that he'd start to burp.  You, Athena, were more of a squealer. 
In fact, I remember one time..."
	"I don't think we need to hear about this," came the embarrassed
reply, as Athena's face blushed.  "Father would tell the same stories to
Boomer and Sheba, and he used to love telling them.  Again and again, and
again..."
	"How is your father?" Starbuck asked, smiling as he remembered some
of what Athena was remembering.  He recalled one story that had them in
hysterics, about how a then-six yahren old Apollo had been playing with
his baby brother, and when Zac had been held up, he had thrown up all
over Apollo's front.  The older boy had been so disgusted that he had
refused to touch the "bag of vomit" for days afterward.
	"He's all right," Athena replied after a few centons, not really
wanting to get into that particular topic of conversation just yet.  She
noticed Starbuck giving her an odd look, and she quickly added, "The
fleet's been keeping him busy, of course, and so has the Council."
	"But, of course," Starbuck said wryly.  "How are they these days
without me or Apollo around to mess up their affairs?  I hope that Boomer
and the other guys are satisfactorily taking our place?"
	A faint smile played on her lips as she looked back down at Apollo,
her forehead creasing into a frown as she noticed the implant.  Moving
her hand to his forehead, she brushed his hair away from his temple so
she could see it better.  "That implant...  It's Shelborn, isn't it?  I
know it's Shelborn, but seeing it up close...  The pattern's the same, I
can see that, but it's still a shock!"
	"I know," Ila replied, moving Eilan to one arm so she could rest her
free hand on her daughter's arm.  "It hasn't been the easiest three
yahrens, with the implant, but he's been able to live with it."
	"So why is it we weren't supposed to mention Apollo at all around
the Shelborn?"  Her blue eyes looked first at Starbuck, then at Ila.  She
waited a few centons, then continued.  "And if this implant caused the
coma that Apollo is in, why don't we try to get the Shelborn to help
him?"
	"Because they'd hurt him," Meve said matter-of-factly, surprising
Athena.  She had almost forgotten that the little girl was there.  "The
Shelborn lost him, and when they get him back, they're going to put him
away so they don't lose him again."
	"I beg your pardon?"  Athena put her hands on her hips, waiting for
someone to reply.  "Why would the Shelborn hurt Apollo?  He hasn't done
anything to them, has he?  Mother?  Starbuck?"
	Ila sighed loudly.  "It's a long story, my dear."
	"So?  I'm up for a long story.  I think I'd better be told
everything I can do if I'm to help the colony deal with the Shelborn. 
Why is Apollo so special to them?"
	"So..."  Starbuck shrugged.  "Well, basically what we have here, at
least what I understand it to be, is that the Shelborn consider Apollo to
be their property.  Since he's a clone, something that they had under
their control from the very beginning...  I know it's confusing, but
basically, think of him as a slave who escaped from his master.  It's the
best analogy I can think of.  If Apollo is found, he'll be taken back;
and whether they'll use him again as a pilot, or just downright kill him
to permanently get rid of the entire Apollo series of clones, I don't
know.  Neither does he."
	"I see."  Athena trailed off, looking down at Apollo's peaceful face
again.  "This is the most outlandish and improbable situation I've ever
heard of in my entire life."
	"You're telling us?" Starbuck grinned.
	"So when is he supposed to wake up?"
	"Hopefully very soon," Ila said, crossing her arms as she watched
Athena carefully.  "It's been nearly three sectons since he went into the
coma, so if the Lords of Kobol are smiling down at us, they'll let him
come back."
	"What's that?" Meve interrupted, pointing at the bag that Athena had
brought up with her from the planet.  She tugged lightly on Athena's
sleeve to get her attention.  "Over there in the bag?  What's in there?"
	"Oh, some baby supplies for Eilan," Athena said, fetching the bag as
she smiled at the girl's curiosity.  "I also brought some pictures up."
	"Pictures?" Starbuck asked, his eyes widening.  "Athena, you have
pictures of Josce with you?"
	"Yes..."  She laughed at the joy on Starbuck and her mother's faces,
knowing that this was good news for them.  "Well, now, I know why you're
really happy to see me!  But yes, I've got pictures of Josce, Sheba,
Father, Troy...  even Cassie and Derdre."
	"You have a picture of my sister!" Meve exclaimed, catching Athena's
surprise.  "May I see?"
	Athena shot a glance at Starbuck.  "Her sister?  Do I want to know?"
	"Don't look at me!" Starbuck grinned.  "I haven't been here long
enough, and Apollo's too... well, he wasn't here at the moment in the
question, either.  No, she's Sheba's half-sister, Meve."
	"Really?"  Athena's eyes grew wide as she stared at the girl. 
"Sheba will be thrilled, I'm sure.  All right, would you like to see
Sheba's picture?"
	The girl nodded as Athena pulled out the new flatpic that she had
been given as a going-away present from Sheba, and all around her, she
became aware of the intense gazes of her mother, Meve and Starbuck.  The
picture was passed around after Meve finished with it, and as soon as Ila
looked at it, she shook her head.
	"Sweet Kobol," she said, a faint smile on her lips.  "He's the image
of his father at that age, isn't he?  Though it looks like he's got
Sheba's nose and skin tones."
	"Really?"  Starbuck frowned as he took the picture from her.  "I
never noticed that, though I'd probably say it's more the case now that
he's getting older."
	Athena looked over at her brother's still form lying in the lifepod,
then asked the question that had suddenly occurred to her.  "Does Apollo
know about Josce?  And about Sheba?"
	"Definitely," Starbuck nodded, his eyes still on his nephew's face. 
"I told him all about Josce, and as much about Sheba as I could.  Tell
me," he lifted his gaze to meet her eyes, "is she still sealed to...?"
	Even though Apollo was laying unconscious in front of him, Starbuck
found that he couldn't utter Bojay's name in front of him.  It just
wasn't right, he knew, but still, he had to know, and his heart sank as
Athena slowly shook her head.
	"Their marriage hasn't been the greatest one, as you know," she
began, "but the last time I saw Sheba, she told me that they were trying
to work out their differences."
	"Felgercarb," Starbuck groaned, handing Sheba and Josce's picture
over to Meve, who grabbed it eagerly to look at it again.  "I was hoping
for some good news in that area.  It's had Apollo upset, I know, and I
don't blame him.  He and Bojay didn't exactly get along wonderfully.  I
guess he hoped that she had found someone... better?"
	"I don't know," Athena sighed, not noticing Starbuck's visible wince
at his mention of Bojay's name.  She looked down at her bag, then pulled
out another picture to hand to him.  "I almost forgot to give this to
you.  Here."
	Taking the flatpic that was offered to him, Starbuck's blue eyes
widened as he was greeted by the sight of Cassiopia with an impishly
grinning Derdre.  His breath caught in his throat as he felt the longing
that he'd been trying to ignore rush to the surface.  He thanked her
huskily as he tried to blink away the tears that were beginning to gather
in his eyes.
	They remained at Apollo's side for the next five centons, each one
beginning to sink down into their own thoughts.  Starbuck finally
interrupted, bringing himself out of his memories of Cassiopia and Derdre
to suggest that Athena might want to find some quarters for herself and
Eilan.  She agreed, especially when the baby yawned in her grandmother's
arms.
	Before she left, Athena put the picture of Sheba and Josce on the
table on the lifepod's right, within easy reach if Apollo chose to look
at it.  Next to it, she placed a smaller one of Troy.  With a sad smile
at her unconscious brother, she left Eilan with Ila so she could leave
with Starbuck.
	For the next few days, everything developed slowly with Whitby's
so-called evacuation.  Hagan, still in the midst of negotiations with the
Shelborn, believed that he was getting somewhere, but his words held as
much promise as Tomalea's diagnosis that Apollo was ready to wake up. 
They were expectant, but as each centar and day went by, their hopes were
becoming strained.  Even so, of the three hundred survivors on Whitby,
only fifty chose to vacate their home, leaving the others behind with the
Shelborn.
	Most of the new arrivals, including Athena, Jolly, Giles and Brie,
were transferred either up to the Pegasus, or to one of the lesser filled
civilian ships.  Some, like Jolly who decided to billet with Silver Spar
squadron, were easy to accommodate, while others were more difficult to
board.  Even so, they were comfortably billeted soon enough.
	Outside of helping some of the others with leaving Whitby, which was
being highly supervised by both the Colonial Warriors and by suspicious
Shelborn; Athena also spent a good many evenings in the Life Center with
her brother.  She found that Starbuck spent a lot of time with her, while
Ila took the time to spend time with her newly acquired granddaughter in
Athena's new quarters.  The vigil they held over Apollo was generally
quiet, though Athena sometimes had the inclination to discuss life back
on the Galactica with Starbuck.  The one topic that neither touched was
why Athena had left Adama and Boomer for Whitby.
	On the fourth night, Starbuck was halfway asleep in the second chair
that had been brought in, feeling his eyelids growing heavier every
centon that passed.  The conversation had been light that evening,
culminating in a brief statement that Starbuck had made about his concern
for Apollo -- both for his health, and how he would deal with the new
information Athena had brought with her about Sheba.  Nothing really had
been concluded, and Starbuck mused idly about it.  Across the room,
Athena appeared to be immersed in her own thoughts, and he finally closed
his eyes, letting sleep come at last.
	Soft murmurs interrupted his dreamless doze what felt like centons
later, and he ignored them as though it were the buzz of insects flying
near his head.  As long as they didn't get too close, or too loud, he
wouldn't mind.  But the more he listened, the more he realized that he
was hearing voices.  More specifically, Athena, and a voice he hadn't
heard in over three sectons.
	"Apollo!" he exclaimed, bolting upright in his seat to be greeted by
a pair of amused green eyes looking up at him.  Apollo smiled slightly,
still lying in the lifepod, but he was awake.  "It's about time you
decided to join us!"
	"Funny you should mention that," he returned, his voice sounding
weak to Starbuck's ears.  "Athena said the same thing when I woke up."
	"How long has he been awake?" Starbuck asked, looking across at
Athena, who was holding one of Apollo's hands tightly in hers.
	"Only a centon or two," she replied, smiling at her brother in
obvious relief.  She quickly glanced at the door.  "Do you think I should
go get the doctor?"
	"Of course, unless you want me to get her," Starbuck offered, but
before the words were past his lips, Athena had already risen from her
seat to head for the exit.  "Or you can go, if you insist."
	The micron she was gone, Starbuck turned his attention back down to
his friend, feeling ecstatic that Apollo was finally conscious.  Apollo,
on the other hand, tried to sit up, but his body refused to obey him
precisely.  With a painful sigh, he sank back down into the lifepod.
	"Stiff?" Starbuck asked wryly.
	"Oh, yeah.  Physical therapy is going to be fun."  Apollo shook his
head slightly in amusement, then settled back, trying to get comfortable. 
"How long have I been unconscious?  I'm guessing that it's been a while,
hmm?"
	"Over three sectons," Starbuck replied.  "How are you feeling?"
	"Stiff, tired, and otherwise feeling like felgercarb."  Apollo gave
a mirthless grin as he reached up to touch his implant.  "There's a
bright side, though.  At least my head doesn't hurt right now."
	"That's a bonus," his friend agreed, then frowned slightly.  There
wasn't something quite right about Apollo at the moment, and it took
Starbuck a moment to realize that his reactions weren't right.  Why
wasn't he surprised at Athena's presence?  "It must have been nice to see
Athena again, huh?  It's going to be difficult, though, to say who's the
youngest now.  People are going to ask about her little brother now."
	"No matter how young I look," Apollo said defensively, "she's still
my baby sister.  Still, I'm not surprised to see her, and I don't really
know why.  I had some odd dreams while I was unconscious...  Dreams about
the Galactica, and some other ships in the fleet.  It was so strange,
because it wasn't the Galactica I remember, as though it had changed.  I
didn't recognize a lot of faces, and it was like I was there, but not
there.  And you weren't there, nor was Athena, and I finally saw Sheba
near the end.  She was coming aboard the Galactica for some kind of
business, but she was wearing a uniform that I didn't recognize..."
	Starbuck stared at him for a few microns, trying to grasp what his
friend was saying, or at least trying to say.  It wasn't a fact that
Starbuck was overtly proud of, but he'd had many times in his career as a
Colonial Warrior when he had been knocked unconscious, and he never
remembered dreaming as being part of the experience.  Not that there was
much of an experience to remember.
	"Well," Starbuck began, watching Apollo's face very carefully, "what
else do you remember?"
	"I wanted to find Boxey, thinking that maybe he could explain
something to me, but I couldn't find him.  I did always run into someone
who was taller than me, with dark hair.  But never Boxey, and it was so
strange..." Apollo sighed, closing his eyes.  He laughed.  "And there was
somebody else in your bunk in the Blue Squadron billets.  I know that you
must have moved out of there after you were sealed to Cassie, but why
would I know that in a dream?  It was some little ensign.  Come to think
of it, he was probably the only person who actually saw me the entire
time."
	Starbuck felt his eyes widen until he thought his eyeballs were
going to pop out into his lap; all the while, he listened as Apollo
continued his tale that had to do with something about malfunctioning
klaxons and a battle alert.  When he finished, Starbuck decided that it
was time to backtrack a little bit.
	"Uh, Apollo," he said, reaching out to grasp the two pictures near
the head of the lifepod.  Apollo's eyes opened in time to watch the
movement, frowning as he obviously wondered what was going on.  "Describe
the man you saw when you wanted to see Boxey?"
	Apollo nodded, telling him about the tall, dark-haired yet somehow
familiar man.  Every few microns, Starbuck would ask about a detail,
which Apollo would supply.  When he was finished, he had a perfect verbal
description of Troy.  Shakily, he handed the picture to his friend.
	"Is this is the man you saw?"
	Reaching out with his left hand, Apollo grasped the bottom of the
flatpic unsteadily as he peered at the image.  His face grew deathly pale
as he stared.  "Holy frak, Starbuck, that's him!  How did you get a
picture of him, and who is...  Starbuck."  His voice was shaking slightly
as he asked a question that was more of a statement, since he already
knew.  "This is Boxey, isn't it?"
	"Yup.  Or Troy, as he calls himself these days," Starbuck told him,
even though he knew that he'd already told Apollo about the story when
Boxey changed his name.  It didn't really make a difference, because both
Starbuck and Apollo still referred to him as Boxey.
	"Sweet Kobol," he whispered, looking up at the ceiling.  "Holy frak. 
What in Hades' did I see?"
	"Well, quit swearing for one thing."  Starbuck grinned slightly,
knowing that Apollo usually swore only when he couldn't think of anything
better to say.  "There has to be a good reason for it.  But close your
eyes again.  I have a surprise for you that Athena brought with her."
	"Oh?"  Apollo grinned as he obeyed Starbuck, waiting until he was
told he could open them.  Moving quickly, Starbuck held the second
picture directly in front of him so he could clearly see them.  When he
gave the word, Apollo opened his eyes, then they widened further as he
took in the sight of Sheba and Josce.  "Starbuck...  I... don't know what
to say.  That's Josce?  And Sheba, she looks just like she did in my
dream, except she's wearing civvies here."
	"I've been informed that Josce has some of Sheba's features now,"
Starbuck said, watching as Apollo stared at the picture, reaching out
with his other hand to touch the images gently.  "But you can see that he
takes after you more than her."
	"I wish I could be with them," he sighed, and Starbuck felt a lump
growing in his throat as he saw tears building in Apollo's eyes.  "I'll
have to thank Athena.  She thanked me earlier for giving Cain the
information to find Whitby, but this...  It's the greatest gift I can
imagine, next to having you, Athena and Mother back."
	"And one day," Starbuck promised, "you'll have Josce and Sheba, too. 
And Boxey and your father.  You just have to patient."
	"Yeah, well, being patient is the only thing I can be," Apollo
sighed, using the corner of his pajama collar to wipe his tears away. 
"And how come you're the one lecturing me on being patient?  I remember a
few times when your famous impatience got in the way, good buddy."
	"Now, where's Athena with Tomalea?"  Starbuck grinned as he looked
toward the doorway, relieved that at least some of Apollo's obvious
sadness at seeing his sons and Sheba had given him had gone away.  "I'd
think she'd want to see her prized patient awake and at least trying to
kick.  Besides, my ego can only take a certain amount of pummeling."
	"Starbuck?"  Apollo's voice held a pleading tone that immediately
caught his attention.  "When she comes in, don't tell Tomalea about what
I just told you, please?  About the dreams?  Or to Mother or Athena. 
It'll be just between you and I, at least until I figure out what it's
all about, okay?"
	Before Starbuck could have a chance to answer, Tomalea entered
almost at full speed as she rushed to the lifepod, with Athena following
behind.  The doctor smiled slightly when she saw Apollo, and immediately
pulled out a scanner.
	"Welcome back," she greeted, beginning to scan him as she spoke.  "I
was beginning to really worry about you, if you didn't pull out of that
coma."
	"I needed a change of scene," Apollo replied, watching the scanner
as it was moved up and down his body.  Starbuck had taken the pictures
from his hands to return to their original spot.  "There's only so much
you can see or do while you're unconscious."
	"True," she agreed, then called up a display on her scanner.  "Well,
it says you're fine, though you should rest for another day or two.  And
you'll have to begin to strengthen your body after these past three
sectons of not moving."
	"I know the drill," Apollo sighed.  "We've been through something
like this before when I first came aboard, remember?"
	"Yes, and I remember having to sedate you when you refused to stay
in bed."  The doctor grimaced slightly.  "I hope we're not in for a
second round of that, Captain."
	"Probably not," he agreed.  "So what now?"
	"You are going to sleep."  Tomalea used clipped tones as she put the
scanner away.  "We'll discuss the rest in the morning, or whenever you
wake up.  Understood?"
	"But I'm not tired," Apollo protested.  "Besides, Athena just got
here, and I haven't seen her in ten yahrens!"
	Tomalea rolled her eyes.  "I knew I'd get that argument, so I came
prepared."  Before Apollo could say anything, she pulled out a sedative
from her pocket and injected into his bloodstream before he could react. 
"You have one centon to say good night before you fall asleep."
	"Felger..." he groaned, then smiled slightly at his friend and
sister as the doctor left.  "I guess I'll see you in a few centars, then. 
Tell Mother I'm all right, and I'll see her in the morning."
	"No problem," Athena said, reaching out to brush the hair from his
forehead.  "I'll be around for your breakfast, whenever that might come
around.  Sleep well."
	"Thank you," he told her.  "Athena?  Thanks for the pictures. 
Starbuck was showing them to me."
	She smiled at him, then turned to leave.  Starbuck waved goodnight
to Apollo, but before he could follow Athena out of the room, he felt
Apollo reaching out to grab his hand.  Waiting until Athena was out of
the room, Starbuck spoke down to him.  "Yeah, buddy?"
	"Thanks to you, too," he smiled, then yawned.  "Remind me to
complain to Tomalea in the morning.  I don't think I'll remember to do
that, since I'll forget once I'm asleep."
	"I'll remind you," Starbuck promised.  "Okay, your centon's almost
up.  Go to sleep."
	"I can tell it's almost up."  Apollo started to blink sleepily,
trying to fight off the sedative to give himself a few extra microns. 
"I'm going to sleep, don't worry."
	"Then go to sleep!"  Starbuck grinned, watching as Apollo muttered
incoherently, rolling onto his right side.  "Please don't say that I have
to sing you a lullaby?"
	He wasn't given a reply, and when he checked, Apollo was already
fast asleep, facing toward the pictures as though the images of his
missing family were watching over him.  Shaking his head, Starbuck
quietly left the room.
	He wasn't able to visit Apollo again until the afternoon of the next
day, due to a last centon meeting called by Cain late in the morning. 
The commander wasn't looking too impressed as he looked at the assembled
warriors, and Starbuck wasn't surprised when he didn't see Hagan or Ila
present.  Jolly was a welcomed addition, too, and by the looks of things,
he had already been introduced to the other warriors.
	Like most meetings of late, the atmosphere was tense, but there was
something else about it that made Starbuck uneasy as he took his
accustomed seat on the couch on Cain's right.  Judging by the somewhat
somber expressions of Cain and Helen's faces, he knew to expect whatever
disturbing news that might be thrown his way in the next few centons.
	"Colonel Hagan just sent up his latest report," the commander began
once Starbuck was settled.  "The situation isn't good.  He's working with
Lieutenants Giles, Barthel and Bina, and several other Pegasus warriors,
in trying to evacuate as many people from Whitby as possible. 
Unfortunately, beyond the original fifty that have almost completed the
transfer up to the fleet, no one else is accepting our aide.  The rest
refuse our help, preferring the assistance the Shelborn are offering
them."
	Jolly shook his head slightly, telling Starbuck that his friend had
tried to help Hagan's team convince the others about the Shelborn,
especially after Athena had spoken to him about what she had seen with
Apollo.  Even that testimony had failed to sway anyone, and it was
immensely frustrating not only for Jolly, but the rest of the warriors as
well.
	"In a few yahrens," Sheelah spoke up, looking as dejected at not
being able to help the colonists as the others, "they're going to wish
that they listened to us.  I know that if we continue to be dogged by the
Shelborn, we'll end up seeing these humans in the fighters, too.  We'll
be killing our own."
	"I hope it doesn't come to that," Helen sighed, pushing a few
strands of red hair that had fallen out of her normally neat hair. 
Starbuck had the impression that the two commanders had spent most of the
morning, even the night, talking about their current situation.  "It's
bad enough knowing that if the Shelborn hadn't lost the last battle where
Apollo escaped, they still would have used Ravishol's clones."
	"And the news gets more interesting from there," Cain continued, and
Helen, knowing what he was going to say, looking bothered at this turn in
the briefing.  "Thanks to Lieutenant Jolly, we've been able to positively
identify the mystery ship that attacked the colony as being Cymorth. 
This more or less confirms the information that we uncovered, stating
that an alliance between the Cymorth and the Shelborn has been reached."
	Helen broke in to continue.  "What we suspect is that the Shelborn
are allowed to scavenge worlds or outposts that the Cymorth have
attacked; as such, they're able to gather supplies or collect further
allies like those on Whitby, or like Ravishol."
	"But we don't know what's in it for the Cymorth, do we?" Poinciana
asked.  To Starbuck, this had to be the closest she'd sat next to Cain
since he first arrived, with barely a metron between them.  "Why are they
attacked these planets?  That hasn't been answered yet."
	There was an expression about the commanders that made Starbuck
doubt that they ever would.  Jolly, however, spoke up.  "Well, if it's
any help at all, the Cymorth started attacking the Cylons first over
Whitby.  Our Vipers were fired upon after we started firing.  Maybe if
these Shelborn hate the Cylons so much, they convinced the Cymorth to
attack them at all costs?  And whatever happens will happen.  If a few
people get in the way, that's too bad?"
	"Perhaps," Cain nodded, a slightly hesitant note in his voice. 
"Even so, I tried to contact Enaj and the Heimdall again, to see if we
could get any information.  This time, we got a message, telling us that
they'd send us an updated communique as soon as possible.  I suspect that
it's due to arrive very shortly, which is one reason I called this
meeting right now.  Tolen is supposed to call us when the signal
arrives."
	Nervously, the gathered warriors looked over at the comunit, almost
expecting to see the tall colonel's solemn face appear at any centon. 
When it didn't, Starbuck felt the room almost breath an audible sigh,
until Tolen's face did actually appear.
	"The signal just appeared."  Starbuck could never understand how an
officer could look so impassive at everything that occurred.  Tolen
wasn't an overtly emotional man, that much was obvious, and Starbuck
could swear that every time he saw him, the colonel's expression was the
same.  "We're transferring it down to you immediately."
	"Thank you, Colonel," Cain reported, looking mildly pleased that for
once, the Heimdall were doing something they were actually supposed to
do.  He got out of his seat, placing himself in easy visible range of the
monitors, waiting for a new image to appear.
	What they saw surprised them.  Starbuck knew from his one encounter
with the Heimdall that they were a relatively laid-back people, but
seeing Enaj in front of them, looking harried and exhausted, was
something no one expected.
	"Commander, all is bad," he began.  "When last spoke we did, Cymorth
attacked some of our outlying bases, and our allies attacked still.  The
worst has happened.  A third of our fleets are gone, and orders Reprie
received commands us back to home planet.  We must go now."
	Cain's jaw dropped.  "You're going, just like that?"
	The Heimdall's expression was grieved.  "Yes, though I believe
scouts should remain to keep contact with allies, including your fleet. 
It remains questionable.  If we regroup and defenses built, we will
return.  This is unprecedented in our culture, for each group of Heimdall
be independent most of the time.  Not now."
	The atmosphere in the office was growing still in shock as Enaj's
words sank in.  Helen gave Cain a worried expression that he caught out
of the corner of his eye, and he nodded slightly to acknowledge her.
	"We understand, Enaj."
	"A few question I have before I break off communications," Enaj
continued, looking more serious as he went along.  "Apollo, he is doing
well?  He awake now?"
	"He came out of his coma during the night, and all reports from the
Life Center tell us that he's doing fine.  Thank you for asking," Cain
told him.  "Why do you ask?"
	"I have been worried.  Also, he may help you in understanding
Cymorth and Heimdall.  Seek his advice, perhaps the answer is one he
knows?"  Enaj's eyes darted off-screen, and a faint murmur was heard that
was faintly picked up on the speakers.  The Heimdall sighed, then turned
his attention back to the humans.  "My ship departs, about to leave
range.  In the many and most sacred names of our Gods, the Heimdall send
you blessings.  May you be safe, and may you find your people."
	"Thank you, we are deeply honored," Cain said, bowing his head
slightly.  "And in name of the Lords of Kobol, we wish that our God keep
watch over you."
	"Until we meet again."  Enaj gave them a salute, then his signal
faded from the monitors.
	With a deep sigh, Cain turned to look at the assembled warriors. 
Although he was trying to keep an objective outlook on the new
developments that had just revealed themselves, Starbuck was sure that he
could see the briefest hint of uncertainty, even fear, in the commander's
blue eyes.
	"Well."  He moved slowly back to his desk, each measured step
showing that he was deep in thought.  "That wasn't quite what I was
expecting."
	A few hesitant smiles appeared around the room, then Helen spoke. 
"I suggest that we call a war quorum immediately, for this afternoon, if
possible.  We're alone out here now, and our strategies need to reflect
that."
	"Agreed," Cain said, sinking into his chair.  "We'll meet at fifteen
hundred, on the Star Kobol.  I want the squadron commanders there, along
with Ila, and Apollo, if he's capable.  Dismissed."
	Knowing that they didn't have anything else to discuss, the warriors
filed out, with Starbuck being the last one out.  Before the door closed,
he felt an urge to turn around to look into the office in the microns
before the door slid shut, and when he did, he caught a glimpse of Cain
leaning forward with his elbows on his desktop.  He ran his hands tiredly
through his white hair, then rested his face against his palms.
	Cain had the weight of the fleet on his shoulders, and for the first
time, the great and infamous Juggernaut didn't know what to do.  And
Starbuck didn't envy his position one bit.

Part 12 - The belief of dreams

	While the rest of the Pegasus was dealing with the new arrivals of
Athena and the rest of the Whitby colonists who had chosen to leave their
world, I was still in the Life Center, going through test after test
after test.  Tomalea seemed to be determined to check and recheck to see
if I was all right, and even when the results proved that I was fine, she
wasn't convinced.
	So secluded was I in the Life Center -- not that I was actually
secluded, but it certainly felt that way -- that I didn't actually
realize that there had been other Galactica warriors on Whitby other than
Athena.  Although I had been invited to the war quorum, Tomalea had shot
the idea down immediately, especially when we discovered that I tired
much too quickly to even consider any kind of excitement.
	Starbuck came back with news about the meeting a centar after the
quorum ended.  Nothing really concrete had been formulated, but they
decided to leave Whitby once all the ex-colonists had boarded the fleet,
which would be the next day.  The news that the Heimdall had left had
shaken the quorum down to the core, and no other plan had been drawn up
except to keep our eyes open for anything that might happen.
	There was a tension aboard the battlestar, but it didn't touch the
everyday lives of those who lived aboard her.  What reigned in my life
was total concentration on getting myself back into shape, so I could get
out of the Life Center.  I'd forgotten how much I detested being cooped
up in that area, both here on the Pegasus and back on the Galactica.
	Two days after we left Whitby, I was finally told that I could leave
the next morning, and that I was going to be fine.  I was so excited that
I couldn't sleep well, and I ended up dozing fitfully for most of the
sleep period.  I hated nights like these, and my irritation probably only
made the condition worse.  Nevertheless, I woke with a start toward the
end of the night, realizing without looking that I wasn't alone.
	Opening one eye, I looked down to see who was there, thinking it was
a medtech checking in on me.  Instead of Kaguya, Leonore, or any other
medtech, I was greeted by more familiar faces.  Starbuck was the first
one that I noticed, and I gave him a glare for entering without asking
permission.  Then I remembered that this was Starbuck, and that he
wouldn't listen anyway.  When I turned my attention to the other side of
the lifepod, I was startled to see two very familiar faces who were
looking just as startled to see me.
	Recognizing Jolly and Giles, I realized that they had been on Whitby
with Athena, and I shot a panicked look at Starbuck.  What the frak was
he thinking?  I didn't want to deal with going through the routine of
trying to convince them that I was me, and Starbuck had to know that it
wasn't exactly my favorite activity in the universe.  To my surprise, he
flashed me a very serene smile, making him look rather like an angel with
his halo looking somewhat crooked.
	"Don't worry, buddy," he said, grinning slightly.
	"They know?" I finally asked, daring to look directly at them.  They
were both smiling gently at me, obviously trying to put me at ease. 
Starbuck must have warned them like he had warned Athena, that this
wasn't exactly the most comfortable issue with me.  "You both know?"
	"Yup," Giles replied, while Jolly nodded.  "It's a great story, and
I'd otherwise be accusing someone of telling a good yarn if it weren't
Starbuck who told us."
	"You mean he hasn't before?" Jolly asked, raising an eyebrow at
Giles' comment, and I had to grin.  "I seem to remember quite a few being
told back on the Galactica..."
	Starbuck shot him a look.  "Uh, we're not here to start bashing
people's reputations, guys.  Especially mine!"
	I had to laugh at that, sitting up in the lifepod so I could see
them better.  I found myself bringing up the sheet around my body, almost
protectively even though I was already wearing the regular Life Center
issued pajamas.  I just wished that I could do something about the
implant that was undoubtedly visible to my friends.  Trying not to look
too deliberate, I pretended to brush my hair with my fingers, while
really I was trying to bring my bangs down to cover it.
	"You guys look well," I said, trying to bring their attention away
from what I was doing.  Starbuck, I knew, was watching me carefully.  At
least I was using a real topic of conversation.  Neither Jolly or Giles
had changed much from the way I remembered them, other than maybe Jolly
losing a bit of weight, and Giles' hair turning a little grey.
	"Ah, Apollo," Jolly grinned, telling me that there was a joking jibe
coming my way.  "If only we could look as good as you!"
	My face reddened slightly, but I did have to laugh.  When I did, the
others joined in.  I knew that being around those I'd known back on the
Galactica would mean that I'd end up being the butt of several jokes, not
that it was anything extraordinary, even here on the Pegasus.  Kobol knew
that Hagan had told one or two at my expense before.  It was just that
the topic would turn from old issues like my trademark shyness and
tendency to stick to the regulations, toward new issues like my youthful
appearance, among others.
	"Oh, hey," Starbuck said, gaining our attention as he grinned
widely.  "Now that there's six of us from the Galactica, do you know what
we're going to have to do?"
	"No, what?" Jolly asked, though by the look on Starbuck's face, I
knew exactly what he had in mind.
	"No."  I used a tone of finality, then held out my finger in
warning.  "No way, Starbuck, not now.  Wait another secton or two.  Maybe
even a sectar, but not now!  I'm not up to it!"
	The new arrivals looked confused, and I quickly summarized for them
the so-called tradition of challenging Hagan and Barthel for the honor of
the battlestars.  When I finished, I shot a glare in Starbuck's
direction.  "And if I remember correctly, you weren't exactly looking
forward to the rematch.  Or am I just imagining things?"
	"Well..." he grinned, "you have to admit we've got a good cheering
section that would just psych out anything the Pegasus warriors could do. 
Right?  Athena, Brie, Giles and Jolly?
	"Brie?" I repeated.  "Brie's here, too?"
	Giles gave me a grin.  "We're sealed, Apollo, and we're expecting
our first child in a few sectars."
	"Congratulations!" I told him, reaching out to shake his head. 
Inside, I felt a twinge of jealousy, seeing that yet another one of my
friends -- first Starbuck, now Giles -- had found someone to spend the
rest of their lives with.  Well, at least that was Giles' case, because
Starbuck's life had been as sabotaged as mine when he was taken away from
Cassiopia by being marooned.
	Starbuck wasn't thinking on the same wavelength as me, and he turned
enthusiastically to our friends.  "Hey, Jolly, you've got your p'iob,
right?  Play that thing again, and we'll have a repeat of the game Boomer
and Apollo played against Council Security all those yahrens ago."
	I sighed loudly.  "Okay, what's he been drinking tonight?"
	"Fruit juice," Giles told me, and I knew that he was telling the
truth.
	"Fruit juice?"  I raised an eyebrow at Starbuck.  "Well, aren't we
the sophisticated one?"  Seeing his indignant look, then the mock punch
that was aimed in my direction, I laughed at him.  "Hey, don't hit the
injured man!"
	"I was saving the ambrosa for more important events," he said,
sounding miffed.  "Like you getting out of here, for example."
	"Then maybe I should stay in the Life Center for another few days,"
I said wryly, then laughed again as I was given a stern look from
Starbuck.  "Okay, okay.  Well, I'm supposed to be out of here in the
morning, but I don't know what my schedule is going to be like.  Have
either of you been given an assignment?"
	Jolly nodded, and I could see that both he and Giles had huge grins
on their faces.  "Oh, yes, definitely.  Tolen gave them to us this
morning.  Silver Spar Squadron, Wing Three, with Captain Apollo as our
commander!  Of the wing, of course."
	"Of course," I replied, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.  Why would
I be the commander here?  After all, it was Hagan in command of the
squadron, not me.  Hades, there were at least two other captains besides
myself, so why would it go to me?  The bitter thoughts threatened to
overwhelm me, and I pushed them away as I forced a grin.  "That's great! 
So it's the four of us?  What about Barthel?  He was in our wing before."
	"He was given the choice of whether he wanted to transfer to another
wing, like Hagan's or Poinciana's, or to stay with us," Starbuck told me,
chuckling as he spoke.  "He's a brave boy.  He chose to stay with us."
	"Very brave," Jolly echoed.  "We'll have a few bad habits to break
him out of, I'm sure."
	"You don't know the half of it," Starbuck grinned.  "These Pegasus
warriors are incorrigible.  You should see what they've done to Apollo
over the last few yahrens..."
	He ducked as I threatened to throw the pillow at him, laughing all
along.
	Soon after that, they decided to leave me to sleep again, claiming
that we'd meet again tomorrow afternoon.  Starbuck took my tiny
collection of pictures, offering to deposit them safely in my chambers
for me.  After they left, I dozed for the rest of the sleep period,
waking up again when the real medtechs entered my corner of the Life
Center.  Leonore came over to check on me, and I managed to convince her
to discharge me then and there.
	One small victory for the Captain.  I was out of there by six
hundred centars versus the usual definition of morning as nine hundred.
	I hadn't even taken two steps out of the Life Center when I ran
straight into Cain.  If I had been walking any faster, I would have
bounced right back to where I started in the doorway.  Cain, in the
meantime, literally had to regain his balance.  Neither one of us said
much more than a brief apology until he started laughing.
	"This is just my luck," he said, catching me completely by surprise. 
Not sure how to take this development, I smiled slightly, waiting to find
out what was so amusing.  "I go looking for you and end up nearly
knocking you down.  You're out earlier than Tomalea estimated."
	I shrugged.  "I was taking up space, and she did say the morning. 
What's three centars?"
	"True enough," he agreed.  "You'll have to tell me your strategy,
though.  Whenever I'm in the Life Center, it's usually for the entire
length of the stay.  Whatever you've done might come in handy.  Tell me,
have you eaten yet this morning?"
	That question really caught me by surprise.  "Uh, no, sir.  I was
going to go grab something from the mess hall before I headed to my
quarters.  I'm sure that there's a lot I have to catch up on from the
past three sectons."
	"Oh, there is," he agreed, motioning ahead of us so we could begin
walking.  "But it can wait.  I'm glad to hear you haven't eaten yet,
because I haven't yet, either.  I wouldn't mind having some company."
	Not knowing what to say, I just following his lead.  He really must
have had something very important to talk to me about, because although
Cain was a very social commander, he rarely made an appearance in the
mess hall.  Then again, he wasn't your normal kind of commander, either.
	As we went, I found my thoughts wandering as I stared at the back of
the commander's white head.  I wondered what the situation would be right
now if I had the opportunity to become engaged to Sheba, and we were
actually sealed before I left the Galactica.  How would the current
situation with Cain be like; instead of having him as my commander, if he
were my father-in-law?  Would he be harder than he already was on me? 
More than likely, and I was briefly thankful that I didn't have the
chance to really find out -- but only for the briefest micron.  It was
already difficult being around Cain without having anything else in the
way.
	But once I thought about that, I started thinking about Sheba, and
everything related to her.  The detailed dreams I'd experienced while in
the coma were still unsettling.  Why had I dreamed about a Galactica that
I didn't recognize?  More details had surfaced since the first time I had
told Starbuck about them, and thanks to my friend, I had names to go
along with the faces, both old and new.  Were those weary faces I saw
really my father's and Boomer's?  And the younger ones, already
experienced at such a young age.  Boxey, or Troy as he was now called. 
His friends Dillon and Kip.
	And Sheba.  I remembered first seeing her in the dream, when she had
first stepped off the shuttle to stride purposefully to the nearest lift. 
Her hair was darker and shorter, reaching her shoulders instead of the
middle of her back.  The sharp expression on her face had worried me, but
when she smiled in greeting to Boomer, I knew it was my Sheba.  Even so,
she was the Sheba from Athena's pictures, not the Sheba I had held in my
arms so long ago.
	It soon became apparent that Cain's mind was on Sheba, as well, but
in an angle that combined all of my thoughts.  I wasn't sure exactly what
was on the commander's mind as he kept looking at me out of the corner of
his eye as we walked.  He didn't actually say anything until we had
arrived in the mess hall, with our food trays in hand and heading for one
of the many empty tables.
	"I'm sorry if I was harsh the first time I heard that you and Sheba
were a couple," he began, confirming my suspicions.  He waved away my
murmured comment as he continued.  "It did catch me off guard, especially
learning that you fathered my grandson.  But I've had time to contemplate
what this all means, and how things might have been under different
circumstances.  I do believe that you would have made a good pair.  You
must have understood a lot of what she has gone through, being the
daughter of an old war daggit like me."
	I smiled at his comment.  "Well, yes, I guess I did have that
particular piece of insight.  She had it with me, too."
	"Forgive me if I'm prying," he began, and I looked up at him
sharply.  This meek attitude was unlike him before the Battle of Gamoray,
and even during the time I'd known him since coming aboard three yahrens
before.  "Would you mind telling me a bit about your relationship with
her?  I know my baby wasn't too happy during a long period of her life,
especially after Bethany, her mother, died while Sheba was in her teen
yahrens.  The way Starbuck described your relationship, it sounds like
you made her very happy.  I guess I just need to hear about her.  Maybe
it'll help the both of us.
	He looked at me directly in the eye, and I was surprised to find
that I wanted to tell him.  At least a bit, anyway.  If anything, this
was the man who cared as much for Sheba as I did, albeit in a different
way.  Even so, I felt awkward, never having spoken to anyone other than
my extremely close friends about my relationship with Sheba.  My father
never really pried, unless he knew something was wrong; otherwise,
whatever conversation there was, it had been always initiated by me.
	Looking into Cain's eyes, I started to talk.  Instead of telling him
the personal details, I just talked about her.  What had drawn us
together, aspects of Sheba's personality both as a friend and as a
warrior, her career after leaving the Pegasus; and finally, our
relationship.  When I told him about how much Boxey had loved being
around Sheba, I could see the genuine surprise in his eyes, and I had to
smile.
	That was my Sheba; always full of surprises.
	During our discussion, I studied the man who sat in front of me. 
There had always been a wall between Cain and me, almost from the
beginning.  The first encounter between my childhood idol and myself back
at Gamoray had been a delightful surprise for me, although slightly
embarrassing since he had picked Starbuck and me since we were more less
lost.  But seeing that face from the vids and the history texts was
almost surreal.  It was miracle, I had thought at the time, that coherent
words could come out of my mouth when we first spoke.
	But then came the issue of the Cylons, and Father's conflicting
opinion with Cain's.  That had more or less started things off on the
very wrong foot, and going downhill, at that.  Cain had changed in my
eyes, falling off the pedestal that I'd always put him upon, and came
down to the ground with the rest of us warriors.  Being one of us, he had
faults, and more than ever, I saw them in glaring color.
	The faults that I could see immediately were his egocentric nature,
and his need to have his way.  There was no middle ground in Cain's book,
and when Father disagreed with him to plan a new strategy in dealing with
the Cylons, Cain deliberately sabotaged the proceedings.  And blamed my
squadron, and, through them, me.
	Even though he was a real modoker, which he freely admitted, he
still had his good side.  Even though he showed a touch disrespect to my
father because he was leading a fleet of civilian ships instead of a
proper military force, he still saved us in the end by taking on three
basestars, even if Baltar's had escaped in the end.
	In the ensuing five yahrens, Cain was a very real shadow, because
Sheba kept his memory with her.  She would often speak to me of her hopes
that he was still alive out there in the universe, and I would listen
patiently, wishing that I could have that same wish.  And have a reason
to believe, but Serina and Zac were both dead; I really had no reason to
hope for Mother's survival.
	Did I believe that I'd see the infamous Juggernaut again? 
Undoubtedly.
	Four yahrens ago, when waking up in the Pegasus' Life Center after
being rescued from the winter world, Cain's was the second face I was
greeted with.  There was still a tension between us, especially after
what had occurred at Gamoray, but it had lessened.  Taking on the second
wave of refugees from the Colonies had done Cain some good over the
yahrens, making him fully appreciative of Father's burdens.
	When Sheba had first come aboard the Galactica after the battle,
Father had gathered with Starbuck and me at her bedside.  After telling
her what had just transpired, Father told her that she was welcome aboard
our battlestar, and that she should consider herself a part of our
family.  Cain hadn't really done the same with me, or at least not
outright.  Although he had said nothing, he did seem to regard me
differently than he had during our first encounter.  If anything, he was
treating me like a wayward son, who he was reluctantly accepting.  That,
and he was keeping his eye on me so he could tell Father that he had done
his best to take care of Mother and myself in exchange for what Father
had done for Sheba.
	Smiling at the thought, I listened to Cain as he started to speak
about the current situation in the fleet.  Most of it I had already heard
directly from Starbuck three or four days before, but I still paid
attention, hoping that he would have some new details for me.  I wasn't
disappointed when he stopped and cleared his throat as he pushed his tray
aside.  He studied my face for a micron before speaking.
	"Apollo," he began, "in our last discussion with Enaj, he suggested
that you might be able to help in discovering what the situation with the
Shelborn and the Cymorth might be.  Does anything I've told you ring a
bell, or does it make any sense?  Can you think of anything that might
help us in what our current situation is?"
	I shrugged.  "Well, it's entirely possible that they're trying to
form an alliance with the Cymorth for protection.  The Cylons have beaten
them twice, at least.  Once they did it covertly, when they moved in to
'help' their planet; and the second time was very visible in the last
major battle.  The Shelborn are weak, and they can use all the help they
can get.  That's why they've gone to every other weak group they've
located, trying to help them as much as possible so they can both team up
against the Cylons."
	"And?" Cain asked, sounding interested in my opinion.
	"And so they've figured out that they can't go to someone who's
weaker than they.  They need to team up with a group who are more
powerful than they, but sympathetic to their needs and cause."  I smiled
slightly.  "And what better to help you with an aggressor than allying
with another aggressor?"
	The commander nodded a few times.  "I see.  Yes, that makes sense. 
But there's always the danger that the alliance will fail."
	"Yeah, but if their leaders are feeling as desperate as I think they
are," I pointed out, leaning back in my chair, "they're not really going
to care, are they?  They just want what they feel they deserve, no matter
how just it might be.  There are no consequences for them."
	"Unfortunately," Cain sighed.  "You know, something just occurred to
me.  We haven't touched the Shelborn ship other than for general purposes
during the three sectons you've been unconscious.  There's an untold
wealth of information in those computers that we haven't accessed yet,
and from what we've seen, it looks like the different ships exchange
information on a fairly regular basis.  Who knows what might be there?"
	I literally recoiled from the thought, remembering and reliving all
too well the pain I'd experienced on the bridge of the alien craft. 
"There's no way in Hades I'm going back to reattach myself to that ship
again!  Sir."
	He smiled gently at my alarm.  "No, I didn't mean by trying to kill
yourself again, Apollo.  No, what you might be able to do is work
together with the computechs.  They can study your implant, and together,
you might be able to get a connection together that you can use just the
way your, uh, holographic displays work with the implant."
	"That's an idea," I said slowly, intrigued by the idea.  "It'll be
my assignment for the next few sectons?"
	"Yes, and more."  Cain's smile grew wider.  "As well, I'm shifting
the patrol rotations.  Poinciana's wing should be replaced because
they've been doing the brunt of the deep probes.  I'm moving Hagan's wing
into the primary position, with your wing as backup.  In time, you'll
take Hagan's place, and Poinciana will be your backup."
	I was genuinely surprised at the news, and I wasn't afraid to show
it.  "You mean I'm being put back onto active flying status as of right
now?"
	"Why not?" he returned.  "You're physically all right, if a little
out of shape, but you'll improve upon that.  I discussed it with Tomalea
last night, and she believes that the middle of the secton would be a
good time to begin."
	"Oh.  Well, thank you, sir."  I looked at him wide-eyed.  "I
appreciate that, sir."
	"No problem," Cain replied.  His eyes were full of amusement as he
spoke.  "I know what it's like being off-duty while your wingmates are
out busting their astrums working.  You get stir crazy, and you probably
will end up worse if you don't get out there than if you did."
	I nodded, and he glanced at the chrono.  Seeing that we'd been at
our table for over thirty centons, he pushed his chair back to leave. 
Telling me that there was a briefing for my wing later that day, and that
the computechs would expect me as soon as possible, he left me alone at
the table.
	Feeling more optimistic than I had in a long while, I officially
went back on duty the following day.  Backing up Hagan's wing meant that
we had a deep probe every second day, taking every third patrol, and in
the meantime, I spent a fair bit of time in the Pegasus' labs.  The chief
scientist, Stasny, could have been Doctor Wilker's twin if it weren't for
the fact that Wilker was tall and slender while Stasny was stocky with
dark features.
	For nearly five days for three centars each, I lay hooked up to some
of Stasny's equipment, watching the ceiling and listening to the
machinery's sounds as it gently probed the workings of my implant.  By
the end, not only did I know every boring micrometron of the lab's
ceiling, but Stasny and his techs had a nearly complete picture of how my
implant functioned.  They dismissed me so they could play like children
with their computers, telling me that I could come back in a few days to
test their accomplishment.
	When I wasn't occupied with patrols, reports or the lab, I spent my
free time with my friends and family.  Now that I was awake, Meve
demanded that she spend almost every waking centon when neither of us
were busy together.  To make that possible, I timed my visits with
Athena, Mother and baby Eilan when Meve was with me.  That way, Meve
could play with Eilan, leaving me to talk to the others.
	It was still slightly unreal to see Athena, just like it was to
report to the flight deck to see Giles and Jolly.  I kept on expecting to
be wakened up to find that it was a dream, but as the days went by,
everything started to feel right.  It was just so strange to go so many
yahrens without seeing them only to have them back again.
	While Mother checked in on Meve and Eilan, Athena and I would
discuss things together.  She admitted that she wasn't sure what she
wanted to do at the moment.  She didn't have an urge to be in the
military anymore, but she wasn't entirely decided on what she would do. 
Mother had told her that she could always take a position on either the
Council or the war quorum, and it certainly was something that she was
considering.
	I tried to be as helpful as possible, but the one thing that was
never brought up was why Athena had left the Galactica and Father in the
first place.  I knew the politics of Whitby, and of their decision to
reject Father's search for Earth.  But what about Athena?  How did she
fit into that?  Even though the answer was staring at me in the face, I
didn't want to think that my sister would betray my father by leaving him
when what he needed most was his family to support him.  Kobol knew that
if I had returned to the Galactica from that patrol, I would still be
completely behind his quest.
	Stasny called me to the landing bay where the Shelborn ship was
stored almost a secton after I had been dismissed from his lab.  Starbuck
came with me as I went to meet him.  The doctor and his techs were
gathered on the ship's bridge, and as we entered it, I couldn't help but
shudder slightly while I looked around.  The blood Barthel had found was
gone now, but the memory of it and my accident was still enough to chill
me.
	"Our masterpiece," Stasny announced, holding out a small rectangular
computer to me.  As I took it to examine it, he continued.  "Basing it on
the functions of your implant, Captain, this computer attaches itself to
the cable coming from the ship's computers, and does the same thing as
your implant in creating the equivalent of the holographic control panel
you're used to.  Instead of being in front of you, it activates a program
in this computer that allows you to work just as efficiently."
	Sitting down in the captain's chair, I took the loose end from the
computer and hooked it to the console.  I could feel Starbuck watching
over my shoulder as we waited for something to appear on the screen. 
Soon enough, a program that was vaguely similar to the display that I was
used to working with.  I walked the program through a few steps,
accessing some of the ship's data banks.  When I saw some of the
information I recognized from my disastrous connection, I immediately
backed out of that area.
	"Well, it works," I said, looking up from the computer.  "How do I
download the information I find?  Are there any data containers?"
	One of Stasny's assistants nodded.  "We're having two brought up to
you right away."
	"That is, of course," the doctor interjected, "if you want to work
on the project right now."
	I smiled slightly, knowing that Starbuck had the beginning of an
indignant expression on his face, even though he was standing behind me. 
My friend wanted to introduce me to the newest kind of card game that the
pilots from Silver and Bronze Spar Squadrons had developed.  Now that he
had some cubits, he was going to use them, all the while keeping mine as
backup.
	"I can stay here for a while," I said, hearing Starbuck groan
slightly.  I wanted to chide him, telling him that he shouldn't be
surprised.  I'd never liked card games that much, so why should I change
now?  "Starbuck, you can go ahead, and I'll meet you later.  Maybe for
dinner?"
	He sighed.  "Yeah, sure, go ahead and play with your toy."
	And it was almost like a toy.  All the advantages of using the
implant, just without actually using it and having all the associated
dangers.  I stayed on the ship longer than expected, staying past the
time for dinner.  Sheelah came into the cabin centars later, bringing
food for me, and I used that opportunity to get her to take one of the
full data containers to the compulabs for processing.
	For the next few days, I spent most of my waking centars in the
Shelborn ship, accessing every system and opening every available file. 
Every few days, my wing was sent off on a patrol, and then I'd return to
go back to work on my project.
	At one point, I was so busy that all I did was sleep in my quarters. 
Looking in the mirror one morning while doing my customary attempt at
covering the implant with my bangs, I realized that I hadn't shaved in
two days.  Feeling the annoying roughness of the stubble, I stared at my
reflection for a few centons, then decided to try something.  I'd always
been clean-shaven, but something in me wanted to try for a new look.  I
remembered a time when Zac, as a teenager, had actually grown a mustache
in an attempt to make himself look older.  It almost worked, but the
centon Father arrived home on furlon, he ordered Zac to get rid of it,
claiming that it made him look like a Piscerian crime lord.
	Deciding against the mustache idea, I also rejected the idea of a
full beard.  What eventually got my attention was growing a goatee, and
with a slight smile, I started to let it grow out even more.  I wondered
what the reactions would be from my friends and family when they finally
saw it.
	Starbuck was the first to notice the new change, though at first, he
didn't say anything.  We were having breakfast a few days later, one of
the rare mornings when we weren't on patrol, or I wasn't working with the
computer.  The micron I sat down across from him, Starbuck stopped eating
as he stared at me.  I knew he was, and I tried not to give him a
reaction, even though I knew it wasn't working.
	"Who are you and what did you do to Apollo?" he finally demanded,
and that was when I burst out laughing.  He waited until I was finished,
then continued.  "No, I'm serious, Apollo!  You look like an underage
teenager trying to get into an adult venue."
	I made a face, knowing that he did have a point.  It was strange
seeing the two of us together, because even though I was the same age as
Starbuck, I looked twenty yahrens younger.  Even so, I couldn't resist a
bit of teasing.  "And how would you know...?"
	"Buddy," he began, giving me a smile befitting of the most patient
of the patient, "what do you think I did all those nights when you were
studying while we were teenagers?  But I didn't need the goatee.  I did,
however, see many who tried -- and failed."
	"Thanks for the encouragement," I said, rolling my eyes.  "But do
you like it?"
	He shrugged.  "It's different.  It'll take some getting used to."
	That was the general consensus, it appeared, among those I met. 
Mother looked amused when she saw me, and Athena didn't quite know what
to say.  Cain actually did a double-take, and most of the pilots in
Silver Spar who were my friends made comments that were similar to
Starbuck's.  But like most things in our lives, they got used to it and
life went on.
	The days were almost blurring into one another, and before we
realized what was happening, the Colonial New Yahren was almost upon us. 
By that time, a sectar had almost gone by since we'd left Whitby.  The
holiday season was supposed to be full of cheer, but little of it was
found on the Pegasus.  An almost forced gaiety loomed aboard the ship,
which barely masked the grim determination that seemed to have settled
over everyone now that the future with the Shelborn and the Cymorth was
so uncertain.
	7367 was going to be a dark yahren.
	Little changed in the ensuing sectons, and even my sojourns through
the Shelborn computer were coming up with little information.  In the
time since Enaj had bade farewell to Cain, not only had our allies
disappeared from sight, but so did our potential opponents.  The scanners
were empty, and Hagan's reports when coming back from patrol were all
negative.
	Despite himself, the commander was getting optimistic, hoping that
we were out of the woods in regard to the Cymorth.  His hopes buoyed our
spirits, just in time for Starbuck's self-proclaimed favorite
celebration:  my natal day.  This one was a rather important occasion, he
claimed.  It wasn't every day that his best friend turned one hundred and
ten yahrens.
	I lifted my eyebrows when he proclaimed that during one of our
patrols.  Starbuck's voice was rather confident as he gave his
announcement, and I could hear Jolly, Giles and Barthel chuckling in the
background.
	"How did you reach that particular digit?" I asked, not sure if I
really wanted to know.  I glanced down at the empty scanner, finding that
nothing had changed in the last five centons, not that it actually ever
gave more than the occasional flicker to show a new star system that we
were passing, or some celestial object that silently entered our
scanners' range.
	"It's rather easy," he began, and I knew I was in for an abstract
statement.  "You're turning the same age as me, forty-four.  Right? 
Wrong, in a way.  You were dead for six yahrens, so that makes you
thirty-eight.  But not quite.  You look like you're twenty-four, but even
so, you've only been alive for four yahrens in this body.  See the
problem here?"
	I tried not to groan.  "So I'm timeless."
	"Wrong again, buddy."  He sounded like a teacher patiently
explaining a difficult concept to a student; I could just hear his grin
over the comline.  "I decided to save myself by totaling all your
supposed ages, and I came up with the beautifully rounded number of one
hundred and ten.  Now I just have to find one hundred and ten candles for
your natal cake."
	Even if he didn't find the exact number of candles, it still looked
like that amount when I was presented with the cake on the day in
question.  Starbuck, the ever-thoughtful, had arranged a party in my
honor, even though I really didn't want one.  But Starbuck, along with
Hagan and the other pilots, had insisted, and so I was dragged into the
Officer's Club after having dinner with Mother and Athena.
	Ever the unwitting victim, I found myself sitting in front of the
blazing cake, with a tankard of the drink affectionately termed 'vatn,'
Gottfried the barman's special cache that he'd been experimenting with. 
It was like drinking Tylium residue, and after only one mug of the stuff,
I was already tipsy.  Most of Silver Spar was in much worse shape, even
though they knew how much alcohol actually resided in the drink.
	It was like my natal day was just an excuse for a celebration after
the disappointing New Yahren season.  The vatn and the loud music were
helping with their release of tension.  Most of my squadron mates
gathered around me as Giles led them through a roughly translated version
of a traditional natal day song, with my name inserted in it for the
occasion.

	"Mon cher Apollo,
	C'est a ton tour,
	De te laisser parler d'amour.

	My dear Apollo,
	It is your turn,
	So you can start to talk of love."

	Needless to say, Poinciana took that as an invitation for more
flirting.  I wasn't sure how many tankards of vatn made it past her lips,
but after only a centar or two, she was at the level of intoxication
where the person thought they were incredibly sexy.  And she let everyone
know, especially me.
	There was dancing going on at the other side of the room, but as
more warriors danced, the improvised dance floor grew until it was
reaching our location at the bar.  I wasn't drinking anymore by then, but
Jolly and Starbuck were at a lovely level of intoxication.  Giles was
somewhere between their level and mine.
	We were just chatting about different things, and Jolly and Starbuck
were making a plethora of stupid remarks.  At one point, they were having
a competition to see who could have the best chants.  Jolly, in my
opinion, won when he came up with, "Bucky, Bucky, he's so plucky.  Stole
the medtech, now we're frakked!  Go, Bucky!"
	The indignant look on Starbuck's face lasted for a few microns, then
his expression sobered until he looked like he hadn't even been drinking
at all.  His blue eyes had grown to be twice their normal size, and they
were focused at a point behind my left shoulder.  Realizing that this had
to be quite the sight, I turned around to see it.
	My jaw hit the ground.  Poinciana was dancing with Barthel, and the
lieutenant didn't know where to look as he was suddenly kissed very
passionately by her.  They turned around slowly as they did, and
Poinciana was looking right at me.  There was an invitation in her eyes;
a look telling me that she would prefer much more to be kissing me.
	I was saved by Franca and Sheelah, who appeared from the other side
of the room.  They disengaged Poinciana from the poor lieutenant, and
escorted her quietly from the room.  She didn't fight them, amazingly
enough, and she stumbled after them out of the Officer's Club.
	Casting an eye at my more than slightly inebriated friends, I
decided that it was time to perhaps do the same with them.  Jolly at the
moment was having a rather devout conversation with his empty tankard,
not even noticing the spectacle that Poinciana had presented.  Instead, I
could hear him mutter, "I curse you, my empty glass; and I curse the hand
that half filled you!"
	Giles ignored Jolly's behavior, instead focusing on me.  "Hey,
Apollo, mind filling me on something?  What was that all about?  I mean,
she was looking right at you while she was...  Starbuck?  What's wrong
with you?"
	"Don't ask," was the reply, as Starbuck pressed his face into his
right hand.  "Just... don't ask.  I don't think I'm going to forget that
for a long time.  It'll give me nightmares."
	"It's a long story," I finally said, like Starbuck trying to block
the image from my mind.  If she'd tried to incite some kind of interest
at her looseness, or her obvious attempts that trying to draw me out, it
wasn't going to work.  "It's just that Poinciana, well, she has a thing
for me.  It isn't mutual, and she doesn't understand that."
	"Ah."  Giles nodded in understanding.  "Have you tried talking to
her?"
	I grimaced for a few microns, but was saved from answering when
Jolly's eyes began to get more unfocused than they already were.  The
portly lieutenant groaned.  "Did anybody get the marker beacon from the
shuttle that hit me?  Vatn?  It must have come from Hades, that's the
worst drink I've ever had.  The worst..."
	He slumped down in front of him, and the three of us who were still
conscious looked at each other in alarm.  Giles was the one who finally
ventured to speak.  "Well, I guess that means the evening's over?"
	"I'd be inclined to agree," I answered, looking at Starbuck, who
wasn't looking too well, either.  At this point, though, I wasn't sure if
it was the vatn or Poinciana.  "Come on, we'd better get you guys to your
billets.  Starbuck, please say that you can walk?"
	"Oh, sure I can," he smiled, getting off his stool to waver slightly
on his feet.  "See?"
	"Lovely," I told him, then glanced at Giles.  "If we keep Steady
Bucky near the wall, he can support himself that way.  The two of us
together can probably support Jolly by ourselves, right?"
	"I hope!" came the reply as the shorter lieutenant tried to lift
Jolly up by supporting him under the arms.  I moved on Jolly's other
side, putting an arm around his waist.  "Okay, let's go."
	Our exit wasn't noticed, and we were able to get our charges into
their individual bunks with little problems.  When we were finally free,
Giles said good night so he could go leave to return to his and Brie's
quarters.  I watched him leave, then sighed heavily as I headed back to
my quarters.
	The last thing I wanted to do that night was to spend it by myself,
but there was no one else who could keep me company.  My friends were
asleep, along with Athena, and Mother had left for the Star Kobol centars
before.  Feeling a wash of sadness coming over me, I walked quickly,
occupying myself by paying attention to the sound of my boots on the
deck.
	"Is there something interesting down there that I should be aware
of?" a voice asked, full of amusement, and I looked up to see Sheelah
standing in front of me.  She regarded me with a smile as she waited for
me to reply.  "So your charges are safely in bed?  Poinciana's tucked in,
and Meve's with Cain for the evening."
	"My guys are in bed," I answered, still feeling glum.  I sighed as I
shrugged.  "And I guess I should be, too.  After all, I've just turned
one hundred and ten yahrens.  That means I should be getting my beauty
sleep, right?"
	Her smile widened.  "But of course.  The party's still going on in
the Officer's Club, mostly because they haven't noticed that the guest of
honor has already left.  But I was wondering if you wanted to get some
tea or maybe kafe?  I was headed for the mess hall to get some, and
you're very welcome to join me."
	"I have a better idea."  I was suddenly feeling better at the
prospect of being able to spend some time with someone instead of being
alone.  "I have some tea in my quarters that my mother left there.  Why
don't we go there?  You haven't seen the pictures of my sons yet, have
you?"
	She shook her head, and I grinned.  I was growing more and more
attached to the images of both Boxey and Josce, that I was proud to show
almost anyone who passed by.  To see Boxey in his warrior's uniform made
me incredibly proud; and just to be able to look at Josce and know that
he was my child was an almost indescribable joy for me.  I had even sat
down with Cain once for a few centars as we examined the picture of Sheba
and Josce together.
	We headed to my quarters, and while I busied about getting some tea
ready, Sheelah examined the pictures.  After a few centons, I joined her
in the living area, sitting across from her.  She immediately started
sipping on her tea, while I put mine aside to let it cool off
significantly.
	"So Boxey's the older one?" she asked between sips, and I nodded as
she examined his picture for a few more microns.  She smiled slightly as
she put it down, then reached out for Sheba and Josce's flatpic. 
"Sheba's changed a lot, just from the picture.  She's a lot more mature,
that's for sure."
	I smiled faintly, barely able to see the images that she was
holding.  I was able to make out Sheba's picture better than Josce's, and
I still couldn't get over how close Sheba looked now to the dream image I
had of her.  What was interesting was that it wasn't the way I personally
would have pictured her.  Sheba always had long hair, so to see her with
her hair just touching her shoulders was definitely not part of my mental
image.  Then again, if Sheba saw me with my goatee, I know that she'd be
equally shocked.
	"But I guess that's what comes with being a mother," she sighed, and
there was a tone about her voice that I couldn't help but catch.  Sheelah
and I weren't close friends, in the way that my relationship with
Cassiopia used to be.  That relationship was based more on the
understanding that we were the more reserved partners of two people who
tended to get rather flamboyant.  That point, along with the fact that I
was Starbuck's best friend and Cassiopia's was Sheba's, made it easy for
us to have a rapport.
	Sheelah was different.  If anything, she seemed to sometimes look
down at me as a younger brother, in the way I used to with Zac and
Athena.  It was an almost protective manner, which was started when
Poinciana started to make her moves on me, and Sheelah, probably used to
how her best friend could react, started to try to rein her in.  It
worked about as well as some of my attempts to keep Starbuck in check
when it came to chanceries, but all in all, I appreciated the attempts
she made.  Even so, we'd never really sat down to have a discussion in
the four yahrens I'd been aboard the Pegasus.
	"You definitely do change when you're responsible for another life
that isn't capable of taking care of itself," I agreed, remembering my
first sectars as Boxey's father.  They hadn't gone as well as they might,
mostly because I had the double pressures of added responsibilities with
my job as Blue Leader and the flight commander; and I was still grieving
Serina's death.  But even in the darkest moments, I had at least the one
joyous moment of returning to my quarters to find Boxey eagerly waiting
to greet me.  "You also really learn how to live from your mistakes, more
so than ever before."
	There was a wry smile on her lips as she listened to my words.  "My
mistake was to keep on making mistakes."
	"What do you mean?" I asked, finally venturing to take a sip of my
drink.  It wasn't real tea, in the sense of the hot beverage with
caffeine that had been grown in the Colonies.  Here, it was a more herbal
variety, but it made do.
	Her smile was still there, but when she breathed, her breath caught
in her throat like a sob.  I watched her, waiting for her to do
something.  Sheelah finally set her cup down on the table, along with the
pictures, then ran her hands through her hair.  She glanced at me, then
laughed self-consciously.  "That vatn must have been especially strong. 
I'm getting all blubbery here."
	I smiled at her.  "You're not the only one.  I was feeling a little
morose earlier, myself."
	"Apollo, you're always morose," she laughed.
	"So then tonight's not unusual for me," I shot back, but it is for
you.  Do you want to talk about it?"
	She seemed to waver on that point, as though she wasn't sure what
exactly to say.  I wondered if I'd have to coax her out anymore than I
already had when she finally said, "Well, I suppose that you'd partially
understand what I've gone through, more than Poinciana ever will.  But,"
her blue eyes suddenly narrowed at me, "this goes no further than here."
	"No further than the doorway," I promised.
	She nodded at my words, then took a deep breath.  "Well, I have a
twenty-three yahren old daughter.  She's just a little older than Boxey,
I think.  That is, of course, if she survived the Holocaust."
	Silence fell between us, and Sheelah looked away.  I wasn't sure
exactly what to say just yet, but I could understand how she felt. 
Mother, however, would relate completely, especially after the
Destruction of the Colonies, when the only thing she knew was that either
Zac or I had survived the attack, along with Father.  I remembered seeing
the relieved expression on Mother's face when I had told her that Athena
was still alive, then the grief over the news of Zac's death.  She had
tears in her eyes as she told me that she shouldn't be surprised, because
if every other family in the Colonies had lost some, most or all of their
members, then by what right should ours still be intact?
	The silence with Sheelah continued for another few centons, and I
felt inclined to speak again.  Just as I cleared my throat, I heard her
speak.  Relieved, I listened again.
	"I was nineteen," she began.  "Second yahren at the Aquarian
Academy, and I knew it all.  I had a long line of boyfriends during that
yahren, but then I ended up in trouble by getting pregnant.  It was pure
Hades.  You remember what Academy schedules were like, with no time for
anything other than studying and drills while sessions were in."
	"I remember all too well," I replied.  Not that I had much of a
social life before the Academy, but once I became a cadet, I had little
time for anything other than the times Starbuck would literally drag me
from my studies.  In return, I would always drag Starbuck back to the
subjects we were studying, and he somehow pulled off excellent marks.
	"Now imagine that schedule while being pregnant," she continued,
then almost seemed to look at me for a second time.  "Well, not that you
could get pregnant, but even so.  But imagine having Boxey as an infant,
and you would be the only one responsible for his welfare.  And you
thought he was a handful between the ages of six and eleven?"
	I nodded sympathetically.  "I can see your point.  It would have
been impossible for you to do."
	"Exactly.  I couldn't slack off from my studies, or else I'd be
kicked out of the Academy, which would ruin most of my dreams for my
life.  My parents, unfortunately, weren't the kind of people who'd want
another child around."  She paused in her narrative, and spent the
silence by running her fingertip on the rim of her cup.  For a few
rounds, she went clockwise, then the other way for a few other turns. 
Finally, she looked back up at me.  "Abortion was out of the question for
me, just from my upbringing, so the only avenue open to me was adoption. 
I, at least, had the luck of being due during the summer furlon, so I
gave birth to a little girl.  I named her Sabra, then gave her up to
another family."
	A smile appeared on her lips for the first time, and I watched her
for a few microns.  The emotion behind the smile appeared to be
bitterness, even longing, and I felt like I had to say something that
would make her smile.  "Why the name Sabra?"
	"I always loved that name.  It was the name of a friend's cousin
from when I was a child, and it stayed with me all those yahrens.  It was
just one of those special names," she continued, reaching out to pick up
Sheba and Josce's flatpic, "just like the name Josce was for you and
Sheba."
	"Yes, well, the poet Josce certainly had a way with words."  Lines
of half forgotten poetry came to mind, and with many of the phrases,
memories of my life with Sheba.  I smiled slightly at the thoughts,
thinking that no matter how hard I tried to continue, I was still brought
back to her.  Even so, it wasn't like the way it was with Serina's
memory, though I still had to think of why that was the case.  Even so, I
pushed away my thoughts of Sheba as I continued speaking to Sheelah. 
"And that was the only time you saw her?"
	It was a stupid question, but while I felt like an equinus' astrum
at asking it, Sheelah didn't seem to mind.  Instead, she reached into her
jacket pocket to produce a small flatpic, which she handed to me with the
same pride that Starbuck had on his face when he had shown me Derdre's
picture.  But while I had feigned horror at seeing the image of the
round-faced, curly blond-haired girl with her father's eyes; I had to
smile at the picture of the pink-faced infant with the lightest tuffs of
blond hair on her head.
	"She's beautiful," I said truthfully, "just like her mother."
	Her face blushed slightly at my comment, but she continued as though
it hadn't happened.  "According to what I was told, Sabra would have the
option of contacting me when she turned sixteen yahrens.  Unfortunately,
when she was seven, the Battle of Molecay occurred, and we were lost. 
And now, there's the Holocaust, and I don't know if she survived to make
it to your fleet."
	"Everyone at the Galactican fleet is registered with Core Command's
computer system," I told her, neglecting to add the word "hopefully." 
There had been several incidents while I had been in the fleet involving
false identities, and individuals who would have been called stowaways
under different circumstances.  The incident involving Charibdis and the
termination of Flight Sergeant Ortega had only been the tip of the
illegal iceberg.  "Why didn't you check while the Pegasus was at the
fleet?"
	"Because I was too frightened," she replied, looking self-conscious. 
"By the time I gathered my wits to go check, we were already separated. 
Then we ran into the Star Kobol and her fleet, and I immediately checked
those records.  Nothing showed up, of course, so I'm no better than I was
before."
	"I'm sorry to hear that."  I handed back Sabra's picture to her. 
"It's not easy, losing people you love, no matter what the circumstances. 
Kobol knows that I've had to learn that lesson over and over again in my
life."
	She smiled slightly as she put her daughter's picture away, then
reached up to brush her hair off her forehead.  She avoided my gaze for a
few centons, but when she looked up, I noticed that there were tears in
her eyes.  Feeling sorry for her, I got up from my chair to sit next to
her, and put my arm around her shoulders.
	She sighed as she leaned against me, and I closed my eyes for a few
microns, thinking about my own losses.  Frak, I had to get over them, but
no matter how hard I tried, they always came back.  Zac and Serina were
more in the background, but still there.  Sheba, Father, Boxey, and now
Josce; they were the ones concentrated in my thoughts.  Rather, they were
still in my thoughts, no matter what.  It was frustrating, trying to go
on with other things, while these images continued in my mind.  I had
Starbuck, Mother, Athena, Meve and Eilan; why couldn't I be happy with
just them?
	Sheelah brought me out of my thoughts a few microns later when she
twisted position in my grasp so she could look up at me.  Her blue eyes
twinkling, she reached up to run her hand in my hair, then brought my
head down so it was more at her level.  Before I could pull back, she
brushed her lips against mine.
	"It's still your natal day, Apollo," she said.  There was a tone
about her voice that made my pulse begin to pound, and I became aware of
a tingling feeling.  The vatn, it had to be.  "If Poinciana's not your
taste, and Sheba's not here, could I give you a gift?  Both for your
natal day, and for being here for me?"
	I stared at her, speechless.  I had absolutely no idea what I
supposed to say.  Undoubtedly, there was only thing her gift could be,
and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.  Kobol knew, she was an
attractive woman, and tonight with the vatn that we'd both had probably a
little too much of, she seemed even more so.  The way her head was tilted
made her hair tumble about her face in an inviting manner, and the smile
that played on her lips was enchanting.
	Seeing that I wasn't about to make a move, and that I was frozen to
my seat, she pressed herself closer to me.  Her smile widened as she
watched me for a reaction.  "Come on, now, Apollo.  You can't be that
slow, can you?"  Numbly, I shook my head, and she nodded.  "Maybe this
will help you make up your mind..."
	She kissed me again, this time more deeply and passionately.  Almost
in a daze, I lifted my arms so I could encircle her a little better than
before.  Closing my eyes, I tried to enjoy it, but I felt so guilty in
kissing her.  I pictured Sheba, watching us with a strange expression on
her face; almost judging me.
	I finally couldn't stand it.  I jumped up from the couch, backing
away from Sheelah until I reached the kitchen unit.  I heard her
protests, then questions as I paced in the area for more than two
centons.
	"Apollo!" she finally shouted.  "What the frak was that all about!"
	"I'm sorry, I can't.  I just can't.  I'm not ready, and..."  I
trailed off, not able to think of something else to say other than just
reiterating what I was saying before.  "I'm sorry, Sheelah.  Thank you
for trying, though."
	A wry thought went through my head about another time when there
might be more vatn to consume that would make things more possible, but
at the moment, I didn't find it too funny.  I shook my head, shrugging
slightly.  Sheelah stared at me for a few more microns.  "You can't what,
Apollo?"
	"I can't anything!  Just...  I don't want to hurt you.  You're a
friend, and this wouldn't be right," I tried to explain, but I could see
that Sheelah wasn't exactly convinced.  Her eyes moved from me down to
the flatpics that were still laying on the table.
	"Because of her."  It was a statement, not a question, and the
pronoun in question belonged to Sheba.
	I spread my hands in front of me, in a semi-helpless gesture.  "Yes,
I suppose it's because of her."
	She shook her head.  "It must be a blessing and a curse, Apollo.  A
blessing for a woman to have someone as loyal as you in love with her,
but a curse for you when you're separated from her."
	With a sad smile, she rose from the couch, and left my quarters
quietly.  She looked back at me once before she left, then the door shut
behind her.  I remained where I was for a few microns, then moved back
into the living area.  I gathered our cups in one hand, while reaching
out to gather my family's flatpics in the other.  Seeing their smiling
faces again, I quickly put them back in their original position.
	"I miss you all," I said softly to them, then turned away to leave
my quarters.  Even though the alcohol in the vatn had left me feeling
slightly sleepy, I wasn't in the mood to sleep.  Instead of wandering the
Pegasus' hallways, I headed immediately for the landing bay where the
Shelborn ship was.  I just wanted to drown my thoughts with information,
and push my emotions away for a while just to get some mental peace.
	The ship was on standby, with a single tech keeping watch over the
computers while he went through some information on the small computer he
held in front of him.  He looked up as I entered, waiting to see what I
was going to do.
	"I'm just going to go through the computers some more," I told him,
answering his unspoken question.  He nodded, then looked down again as I
passed him, immediately reabsorbed by his work.  I shrugged as I passed
him, and quickly seated myself in the captain's chair.
	By this time, there really wasn't much left in the recent archives
for me to find, and we weren't sure how much relevance the rest of the
information might be.  On one occasion, I'd started to go through it, but
not by much.  Now, however, was the perfect time to continue what I'd
started.
	Bureaucracies exist in almost every civilization, and the Shelborn
were no different.  Reports intended for superior officers were in this
backlog, and I waded through them, reading some while skipping others. 
None of them held anything of interest, and I finally put them away.
	I set the computer to go on a search for anything of potential
interest, then sat back in the chair to wait for something to come up. 
Still feeling the after-effects of the vatn, I rubbed my face with the
palms of my hands, trying to feel relatively normal.  It wasn't working. 
I felt like dozing off, and I actually did fall asleep, leaning forward
with my hands still on my face.
	A loud beeping woke me up a few centons later, and I looked, eyes
still bleary, at the small computer,  which was flashing a message rather
insistently.  Turning the sound down, I called up the newest information
that had been located.  Glancing through it, I realized that the jumbled
collection of digits were coordinates, and I recognized several familiar
ones.
	With a little more prodding, the coordinates were revealed to be
locations of Shelborn bases, but the list itself was outdated by several
sectars, even a yahren.  Some, according to the readout, were still
occupied, while others had been abandoned for yahrens.  I recognized the
coordinates for Paka and the other worlds I'd been stationed while with
the Shelborn; others I'd seen occasionally in briefings, but there were
many more that I'd never seen before.  Some were even in our area of
space, far from Paka and the others.
	"Hey!" I called to the tech.  It took a few centons, but he finally
looked over in my direction.  By the expression on his face, I knew it
was a reluctant reaction.  "Can you double-check our current position and
our heading?  If you don't have it here, call up to the bridge for the
correct numbers."
	He seemed to grumble under his breath, probably complaining about
lazy warriors, but he nonetheless had an answer for me a few centons
later.  "Omega-three-eight's the current location, and we're headed in
the usual heading.  Same one as the Galactica.  Why?"
	"I think we have a surprise in store," I replied, leaning back in my
chair as I examined the information before me.  The heading was a little
off, but there appeared to be several bases in our current general area. 
Two had been abandoned after the Shelborn defeat at the hands of the
Cylons, one forcefully while the other was completely voluntary.  One was
even older, while the last two had been occupied up until a few sectars
ago.
	"What kind of a surprise?" the tech asked.
	"I don't know just yet," I said truthfully, as I copied down the
coordinates so I could give them to Cain.  "But I think we're going to be
doing a lot of sight-seeing in the near future."

Part 13 - Anam cara

	Almost the very micron that Apollo provided Cain with the
coordinates for the three Shelborn bases, the commander immediately
became enthused with the latest possibility of collecting information
about their foes.  The Pegasus was immediately set on course for the
first world, and in the meantime, the war quorum sent a small delegation
to reside on the battlestar.  The purpose for sending the committee was
so that Cain wouldn't have to shuttle over to the Star Kobol to discuss
upcoming strategies when new information was coming in almost every
centar.
	In the meantime, Starbuck spent most of his free time outside of
patrols with his friends, but of late, he found that Apollo was oddly
silent.  A few days after Apollo's natal day, the ex-Galactican warriors
had gathered in the mess hall for a meal; nothing in particular was being
discussed for very long.  Starbuck had noticed that Apollo, who was
seated almost at the corner of the table, wasn't even participating in
the conversation.  He seemed more intent on listening, while eating bits
of his meal.
	No one else seemed to notice, including Athena.  Apollo had always
had odd habits when in company, when his naturally shy nature would
sometimes overwhelm him and he would simply retreat into silence.  But
this, Starbuck noted, was different.  It was like he was distracted by
something, and he was determined to find out what that was.
	After the others had left, Starbuck walked Apollo back to his
quarters.  The gathering had broken up a few centons before when Apollo
had made his excuses, saying that he had a headache that was bothering
him.  Not sure whether or not to believe him, Starbuck volunteered to go
with him, if only to make sure he was all right.
	"So, buddy," he began, glancing at his dark-haired friend as they
walked.  "What's on your mind?"
	"Nothing," was the answer, and the micron that Starbuck rolled his
eyes at the noncommittal answer, Apollo quickly continued.  "I mean,
nothing just yet.  I'm just sort of looking forward to what we're going
to find on the bases."
	"Ah, you just can't keep away from those Shelborn," he teased in
reply, but the words meant more than just that.  It seemed that
everywhere they turned these days, there was a Shelborn.  And where there
was a Shelborn, the Cylons or the Cymorth were due to arrive.  "What do
you hope we'll find there, buddy?  The ship that we salvaged hasn't given
us enough of the information we need to give us a clue what the Cymorth
are about."
	"True," Apollo admitted.  "But I don't know what we'll find. 
Something, I hope.  I don't like being in the dark about things, and I'm
beginning to get frustrated with the entire situation with the Shelborn
and the Cymorth."
	"If you want my opinion," Starbuck continued, using the tone of
voice that said that even if the listener didn't want his opinion, he was
going to give it anyway, "all these encounters with the Shelborn seem to
do is get you in trouble one way or another!"
	Apollo gave him an exasperated look.  "Starbuck, that was only once. 
I'm not about to reconnect myself to any other computer in the near
future."
	"I said 'one way or another,' buddy," he pointed out.  "That ship in
the bay is just one way.  I mean, we're walking on thin ice every time we
run into a Shelborn, and even though that was only once for me, it was
quite the memorable experience!"
	"I'm sure it was," Apollo replied wryly.  He'd heard from Starbuck
already about what had occurred on the surface of Whitby, and how
Poinciana had disobeyed Hagan's orders about not mentioning Apollo's
presence in the fleet.  Starbuck wasn't sure, but he could have sworn
that Apollo's face had paled slightly at the news.
	"Trust me on that.  So we have those incidents, but what's to come? 
Let's say we go down to the bases, and we find out that they haven't been
upgraded like that ship.  So they're compatible with your implant."  He
stopped to fix Apollo with a serious look.  "Are you going to connect to
them?"
	Apollo shook his head.  "No, I won't.  Come on, Starbuck, you sound
like a worried parent terrified that their child is going to do something
stupid."
	"Maybe I do," Starbuck admitted, "but I survived so many things that
Derdre put Cassie and I through that I know when trouble is going to
happen.  I mean, Derdre would always put herself into these dangerous
situations, and usually end up hurting herself.  And your father, as I
recall, was always fond of telling stories about you as a toddler.  There
was one where you used to pull things down on yourself, and even while
you were trying to do that, your mother would tell you not to.  Of
course, being your lovable self that hasn't really changed over the
yahrens, you wouldn't listen until you actually hurt yourself.  Do you
get my drift, buddy?"
	"I think so," Apollo answered, nodding slightly.  "I don't plan on
doing that, and if I have to, I can even promise you that I won't."
	Feeling slightly satisfied, Starbuck nodded.  "No, you don't have to
promise.  Your word will do just fine.  But tell me, buddy, what should
we expect to find on these bases?"
	"Lots of equipment for maintenance, for one thing," came the reply
as the two resumed walking.  "They have to keep their ships and their
bodies in good condition, and it takes a lot of their working centars
doing just that.  Scanners and such, maybe a stockpile of weapons for
battle.  Containers of fuel, too.  They don't have barracks, as you
probably guessed from seeing the Shelborn ship, but other than that, it's
a typical base."
	"Sounds like fun," Starbuck said.  "Hey, did you hear the name of
the first planet?  The tactical display officers decided to be real smart
astrums this time 'round.  It's called Dweebo."
	"Lovely," Apollo muttered.
	The fleet reached Dweebo two days later.  Under normal
circumstances, the planet would have been within the range of its sun
that would have turned it into a semi-habitable world.  Scanners
suggested large deserts, with some pockets of jungles in the more
northern areas of the globe.  But that was under normal circumstances:
the first scans of the planet showed that nothing could live very long on
Dweebo, and most of the world was held in the frigid grasp that hailed
the beginning of an ice age.  A crater large enough for a battlestar to
hide in could be seen suggesting a meteor, or something of that
magnitude, had collided with the planet.
	There was no sign of a base, and the one place where it could have
been would have been somewhere inside the crater.  Cain believed that the
base -- buildings, tarmac, ships, everything -- had been near the center
of the crater.  Or, more precisely, near the center before it had been a
crater.
	Starbuck had been horrified at the information that he was seeing
before him.  If the assumption that he was getting from Cain and the
other commanding officers was correct, then the Cylons had literally
rammed a baseship into the planet and directly onto the base.  Apollo had
shaken his head at the news, muttering something under his breath that
Starbuck couldn't quite catch.  He believed it was a curse.
	Even so, the reaction among the warriors was the same.  Why had the
Cylons been so desperate to actually collide their ship with a planet? 
Had they lost control, or was that the only way for them to defeat their
foe?  Apollo argued that the Shelborn had never been that strong, but
even he had to admit that he didn't know what their strength had been in
the yahrens before.  The scanners had shown that the collision had
occurred several yahrens ago, long before Ravishol's clone program using
Apollo's body had even been started.
	As would be expected, nothing of any significance remained on
Dweebo, and so Cain moved the fleet onward, toward the next set of
coordinates.  Not too far away from Dweebo's star system was the planet
Yasen, a world held under Cylon occupation.  Apollo estimated that this
base had been lost at about the same time period as the big Shelborn
defeat at the hands of their enemies four yahrens before.  The original
buildings for the base still existed, housing Cylons rather than their
original occupants.
	The base itself was a minor one, but with just enough Raiders to
make any venture onto the surface foolhardy. During Cain's briefing about
Yasen, Starbuck tried to keep his facial expression extremely neutral as
the Commander announced that they weren't going to try to risk a mission
down to the surface.  In fact, they weren't going to even move any closer
to the world in question.
	It was quite the thing to see Cain trying to keep his personal
conflict under control.  It was evident to almost everyone in the room
that the commander would have preferred to engage the Cylons outright,
based on the strategies he used to employ in the two yahrens over
Gamoray.  But on the more realistic side, that was a very foolhardy
venture, especially since any provocation they gave the Cylons would
undoubtedly tip off the rest of the Empire as to the Pegasus'
whereabouts.  With the Cymorth and Shelborn already a problem, more Cylon
attention was the last thing they needed, especially when there was the
very real danger that the Pegasus could be destroyed in such a venture.
	The quorum then decided to move on to the last set of coordinates,
and hope that they could find a base where they could gather
intelligence.  Melusina turned out to be such a world.  With a very humid
atmosphere, and its surface composed of more than ninety-five percent
water, the surface was extremely hostile to Cylon circuitry.  The
Shelborn, it seemed, had no problems with the elements, and as such,
Melusina was the perfect place to establish a base.  The name the TD
officers had chosen was in honor of an ancient legend about a selkie, a
creature that was said to be half-human, and half-aquatic.
	Silver Spar squadron was sent down to investigate, and the mission
included six Vipers for escort, just in case they were attacked en route,
along with a shuttle.  Starbuck and Apollo were the pilots of the
shuttle, bringing with them more warriors and any equipment they might
need to investigate the base.  Located at the back were dozens of data
storage containers, though Starbuck was wondering how many of those
they'd need in reality.
	There was a mist in the air around the base, coating the warriors'
hair and clothes with slight traces of moisture.  The temperature was
chilly, but otherwise wasn't that bad.  Nevertheless, Starbuck was happy
when they entered the base, even though he had the slight chill of deja
vu as they did.  Like the Shelborn ship several sectars ago, the base was
dark, and Hagan split their group into three teams, based on the
squadron's wings.
	Starbuck found himself with Barthel, Jolly, Giles and Apollo, as
they wandered down the east wing of the base.  Hagan had elected to send
his team up to the control room, taking the small computer that Apollo
had worked on with him.  Whether or not Apollo resented not being able to
go, Starbuck wasn't exactly sure yet.  In the meantime, though, he was
more intent on completing the mission.
	Giles had the scanner out, leading the way as the others followed
with hand lamps in one hand, and their lasers in the other.  Apollo was
especially on alert, turning at every noise that their team didn't make. 
By the way the dark shadows played on the borders of their lights,
Starbuck found it easy to imagine things, particularly unpleasant things,
lurking about to scare hapless warriors.  He just hoped that there
weren't any unpleasant things.
	"I'm not picking up any life signs," Giles reported, his voice
little more than a whisper.  "Other than our warriors, that is.  There
aren't any alternate sources of heat anywhere near the base that would
suggest life, either."
	"Giles?" Apollo asked, slightly louder than the lieutenant so his
voice could carry over the metrons between them.
	"Yeah, skipper?"
	"Why are you whispering?"  This time, Apollo spoke at his normal
volume, and the sudden loudness made the other three jump where they were
standing.  Apollo glared at them when their lights moved up a few
centimetrons, then back down again.  "For Sagan's sake, you three!  Grow
up!  The base is abandoned, we're not going to be accosted by demons."
	Starbuck made a face, all the while raising an eyebrow and biting
back a comment about being lectured on having to grow up from a man who
barely looked like he was out of boyhood himself.  But he knew if he said
it, Apollo was in the mood to jump down his throat.  He just wished that
Apollo would quit being so touchy, but another part of him wished for
something to occur that would prove Apollo wrong.
	Tentatively raising his voice, Giles spoke as he wandered a few
steps forward.  "Something's coming onto the scanner, Captain.  About
fifteen to twenty metrons ahead of us, down that corridor and up the
next.  Not a life sign, though, but a minor energy output."
	"Any idea of what?" Apollo asked as they began heading in that
direction.
	"No idea yet."
	Apollo nodded that he understood, moving up to walk next to Giles so
he could keep an eye on the scanner.  After a few centons, the short
lieutenant stopped where he was, then pointed off to the left.
	"We're here?" Starbuck asked.
	"Yup."
	"Any idea what it is yet?"  He directed the next question at Apollo,
who was studying the panels on the doorway intently.  "Have you see
anything like it before?"
	"No, I'm afraid not," Apollo replied, shaking his head.  "I wasn't
allowed in the more classified areas of the old bases, simply because I
was a pilot.  Some of the other clones were allowed, if only because they
worked in those areas.  But judging by the script, I'm thinking that it
has something to do with communications, maybe."
	Jolly reached out to try the door, and found that it was jammed. 
"Well, we're not getting in there anytime too soon."
	"Is it jammed out of misuse, or for a reason?" Apollo wondered, then
glanced at Giles.  "What do you think, Giles?  Think we can get through
it?"
	"You're the captain, but I'd say that we can burn through it.  It's
not too thick, and no," he turned his head to glance at Jolly, "you
cannot ram through it.  You'll end up hurting yourself."
	"I didn't say anything!" Jolly protested.
	"You didn't have to, I know what you were thinking," Giles insisted.
	Apollo hushed them as he studied the door for a microns, then raised
his laser to aim it at the closed entranceway.  "Well, there's only one
way I can see to get through."
	"Of course."  Giles put the scanner away, then pulled out his own
laser.  By this time, Starbuck, Jolly and Barthel had joined Apollo, and
Giles matched their stance.  He sighed, looking over at the captain. 
"All right, whenever you're ready?"
	"Make sure your laser is fine-tuned to a thin beam," Apollo
instructed, all the while doing the same thing to his own laser, "and put
it on continuous fire.  It'll overheat our lasers after only a few
microns, but if we alternate, we shouldn't have any problems.  I'll go
first."
	Without waiting for anyone to acknowledge him, Apollo fired his
laser at the door, trying as steadily as he could to make a straight line
down the length of the metallic surface.  He used his right hand to
steady the left, making sure that the laser wavered only slightly; and
his brows furrowed together as he concentrated.  After thirty microns,
there was a gash ten centimetrons long.  With a loud sigh, he stopped
firing.
	"Well, what do you think?  That's about how much we can do per
turn."  He glanced at his laser's readout.  "It'll take about ten to
twelve centons for it to cool down, so whenever you guys are ready, go
ahead."
	Starbuck peered at the hole the captain's laser had made.  "Looks
pretty good.  When we get an outline we can actually step through, then
you can have your fun, Jolly, and kick the door in.  Fair?"
	Jolly rolled his eyes as Starbuck fired.  After a few rounds at the
door, the five warriors were finally able to get the outline completed,
and at Starbuck's invitation, Jolly kicked out the inner part of the
doorway.  He flashed a grin at his friends over their new doorway, while
he grandly let Apollo enter first.
	"It's a communications center," he announced after shining his hand
lamp around the room.  "Definitely a communications center.  Oddly
enough, it's still functioning, even though the main power is off-line."
	"Maybe we should do something about that?" Starbuck mused, as he
pulled out his communicator.  "Hey, Colonel, who's headed down for the
main energizer?  We need lights down here."
	"We're working on that problem at the moment," Hagan's voice came
back.  "Why?  What have you found?"
	"I think we're at the communications center, or so Apollo believes." 
He glanced over to where the captain was already seating himself at a
console, with Jolly, Barthel and Giles hovering around him.  "Apollo's
checking it out now, so we'll report in once we find something.  I'm
putting on my tracking beacon so you can find us, in case there's an
emergency."
	"Right, good thinking," the colonel agreed.  "Be careful.  Hagan,
out."
	Putting the communicator away, Starbuck remembered to activate the
beacon on his belt before turning back to the others.  Somehow, Apollo
had gotten the computer working, and things were flashing across the
screen too quickly for Starbuck to read.  Even though there was a cable
next to console, he was relieved to see that Apollo seemed to be ignoring
it.
	"I'll be..." Jolly was muttering.  "Their transmitter is still
working!"
	"Yeah, but ask this question first.  How long has this base been
abandoned?" Giles asked, glancing about the room.  "I don't see too much
dust lying about, do you?  But then again, I don't see any footprints in
it, either."
	"A couple of sectars, at least," Apollo replied, not looking up from
the screen.  "More like something between four sectars and half a yahren. 
The last message they responded to was sent out just over six sectars
ago."
	"Ah," Barthel nodded.  "So why did they abandon it?"
	"Look how close we are to the other base the Cylons took over,"
Starbuck told him, pulling an extra chair from a nearby station to sit
in.  "I'd say that we have the question already solved."
	"Maybe," Apollo replied.
	The four lieutenants just looked at him, then Giles ventured to
echo, "Maybe?"
	"I don't like the sound of that," Starbuck muttered.  "What is it,
buddy?"
	"I don't know for sure," the captain admitted, "but they've got two
different kinds of signals coming in.  Two different languages, I mean. 
I recognize the Shelborn script, but there's another one.  If I'm right,
I think it might be Cymorth."
	"What?!" Starbuck gasped, as he and the others all peered over
Apollo's shoulders.  Displayed on the screen was a long line of odd
symbols that Starbuck had never seen before.  He frowned as he tried to
find some kind of recognizable pattern, but failed.  "Well, well, well... 
They're still getting these?"
	"Once every few centars," Apollo answered after checking the message
log.  "I wonder if this means that the base isn't really abandoned, but
just empty in the meantime?  They might be coming back here."
	The lights turned on at that centon, making all five of the warriors
wince at the sudden brightness.  Starbuck found that he had to blink
several times before the bright spots in front of his eyes would begin to
disappear.  Next to him, he saw Apollo, Giles, Barthel and Jolly doing
similar things to clear this vision.
	"Frak, they could've at least given us a warning," Jolly muttered,
rubbing his eyes.  He glanced down at the others.  "You guys okay?"
	"Fine," Giles and Barthel both replied, while Apollo just nodded,
keeping his eyes closed until he was sure he would be all right.
	With a few more experimental blinks, Starbuck looked about the room,
seeing it illuminated properly for the first time.  There was dust from
their footsteps floating lightly in the air, semi-visible in the bright
lights, and he could feel his nose beginning to prepare for a sneeze. 
The room had a very utilitarian feel to it, and it gave the impression
that if one wasn't there to work, they weren't welcome.
	Some tapping noises from the console brought his attention back down
to Apollo, who had finally opened his eyes to continue his search through
the communications archive.  He had a look of concentration on his face,
and he frowned slightly as he read the information on the monitor. 
"Interesting..."
	The lieutenants exchanged glances, then Jolly dared to ask, "Do we
want to know?"
	"The transmitter is set to a very local range, meaning that they
receive only a tiny percentage of the signals the other Shelborn bases
and the Cymorth put out," Apollo explained, ignoring the jibe.  He leaned
back in his chair, thinking out loud.  "I wonder...  I think if I saw a
map, I could go find the main transmitter to adjust it to receive more
signals.  That way, if we find the main communications bands that they
use, the Pegasus can monitor them!"
	"Sounds like an idea," Starbuck nodded.
	Inspired by his brainstorm, Apollo leaned forward again to search
through the main computer's databanks.  After a few microns, he grinned
as he pulled up a diagram of the base, then they proceeded to figure out
where they were in relation to the map.  After a few centons, they
located the position of the transmitters.
	"All the way up there?" Barthel said, seeing that the transmitter
was at least one hundred metrons away from their current location,
through a maze of underground tunnels that looked confusing to anyone who
looked at it.
	Except Apollo.  The captain studied the map, and nodded after a few
microns' worth of examination.  "Okay, I know exactly where to go.  You
guys don't have to come with me.  I'll keep my communicator on, though,
so you can contact me if there's a problem.  In the meantime, I'd suggest
that one of you go back to the shuttle to get a data storage container,
and download as many of these messages as you can."
	"I'll go," Jolly volunteered.
	"Okay.  Now, I'm off to find that transmitter."  Apollo pushed his
chair back so he could stand, then smiled at the others.  "I'll see you
guys in a bit.  Call me if there's a problem."
	Starbuck watched as Apollo left the room, then turned to the others. 
"Well, you heard him.  We can start to download all that, and the sooner
we're done, the sooner we can go back to the Pegasus.  I'll tell Hagan."
	Hagan, and then Cain, had been relatively interested in Apollo's
proposal, though Hagan definitely sounded like he would have preferred it
if the captain had consulted him first before running off.  Even so, in
the next half centar, everything went smoothly as several dozen messages
were put into the storage units.  Starbuck supervised everything that
went on, and even checked in with Apollo in the tunnels.  The trip to the
transmitter was taking longer than he expected, but soon enough, he had
arrived.  At the moment, he was still working with it.
	"Landing teams," Colonel Tolen's voice came through their
communicators, surprising all of them.  Giles and Jolly, who were
lounging about in some of the chairs, automatically sat up; while Barthel
and Starbuck looked up from their work.  "Prepare for emergency
evacuation, once the word is given.  Repeat, prepare for emergency
evacuation."
	"Holy frak," Starbuck swore, pulling his communicator off his belt. 
"Pegasus, this is Lieutenant Starbuck.  What's the situation?  We're
still in the middle of downloading, and Captain Apollo is still working
on the transmitter."
	When Cain's voice answered his question, he knew that something was
definitely wrong.  "Lieutenant, a small fleet of unknown spacecraft have
just entered into our scanning range.  We don't have any identification
just yet, but they're not answering our hails, and they're headed
directly for Melusina.  We're on standby up here, just in case there's a
situation."
	Barthel caught Starbuck's attention.  "I think we can patch through
the base's scanners to see what's going on."
	"Do it," Starbuck nodded sharply.  "Commander, we're on standby, but
Apollo's still not back yet."
	"Then get him back.  It looks like they're probably headed for the
planet, and directly for you.  If there's an attack, we won't have that
much time for any sort of --"
	Over the comline, the voice of a bridge officer was audible. 
"Commander, they're still headed toward us, and their weapons look like
they're ready to fire.  We're opening communications to them right now."
	"Acknowledged."  Cain's voice was filled with tension.  "Put them
through."
	The monitor in front of Starbuck flickered on to reveal the upper
atmosphere of the planet, where the Pegasus was visible.  The fleet was
somewhere behind Melusina, but that was the last thing on Starbuck's mind
as he caught sight of the ships that were coming into view.  He didn't
expect to recognize them, and as such, he wasn't surprised when they were
unfamiliar.
	"Apollo says he's just about done," Giles reported in a hushed
voice, then his eyes widened.  "What the frak kind of ship are those?"
	Starbuck shook his head, watching as the sleek ships came into view. 
They weren't especially large, perhaps a sixth the size of a battlestar,
but their red coloring and the very visible weaponry on the hull made
them a very formidable sight.  And they were headed directly for them.
	An alien language came over the speakers, sounding garbled and
rushed to Starbuck's ears.  There was also a harsh tone to them, and he
glanced worriedly at the image of the Pegasus, praying that their
languatrons would be able to get a clear translation in time.
	"This is Commander Cain, of the Colonial Battlestar Pegasus," Cain
began, sounding calm to his credit.  Even so, Starbuck wished that it was
Adama with all his diplomatic training that was speaking.  "We come in
peace, but please do not approach the planet with your weapons ready to
fire.  Repeat, do not --"
	The harsh voice spoke again, drowning Cain out as on the monitor,
the ships continued their advance.  This time, there was one word that
they could understand, and it sent shivers down Starbuck's spine.
	Shelborn.
	"Oh, frak!" he swore.  "Commander, they think we're Shelborn!"
	"What?"  Cain stopped, then froze. "No, not us.  Down there on the
planet, there's only one person who could be mistaken for a Shelborn."
	Starbuck's jaw nearly dropped down to his lap.  "Apollo?"
	"I'm afraid so, but in the meantime, get him up to where you are. 
We may have to gamble for a few centons.  But whatever you do, get him to
you!  You have no more than five centons before they reach the
atmosphere!  I'll try to stall them by launching the Vipers, but..."
	Starbuck nodded, grabbing Giles' communicator.  "Apollo, did you
hear that?"
	"No, what?" came the reply, which made Starbuck nearly furious.
	"Get your astrum up here, now!  We've got a very big problem, and we
need you here now.  Run up here!  We've got five centons before they
attack."  Trying to imagine Apollo's reaction, he added, "Buddy, they
think you're a Shelborn."
	Over the comline, there was the sound of running feet, and Apollo
said with a hurried breath, "I'm on my way!"
	Thanking the Lords silently that Apollo was a fast runner, Starbuck
turned his attention back to the monitors, which showed that the ships
hadn't slowed down at all.  The five centon estimate that Cain had given
them was going to be a close call.
	"We have a few words translated now," a bridge officer was heard to
say, and Starbuck breathed a sigh of relief.  "They're sworn to eliminate
the Shelborn from the universe, and there's no way one Shelborn will
escape them."
	"What are they called?" Cain asked.
	"The Ellegua, I think," the officer replied.
	"And how do you say 'no' in their language?"
	"We believe it's 'drez,' sir."
	Cain gave a short sigh.  "You don't know anything for sure, do you?"
	"No, sir, not for sure."
	The ships were nearly face-to-face with the battlestar, and
Starbuck's mouth grew dry as he watched two ships break off from the main
fleet.  Smaller than the others, they flew around the battlestar toward
the planet, while the others halted in front of the Pegasus.
	"Very well.  Ellegua ships, this is Commander Cain again.  There are
no Shelborn on the planet.  I repeat, no Shelborn on the planet."  He
paused, then continued.  "Drez Shelborn!"
	The voice came through again, in a heated reply, but Starbuck was
beyond waiting to hear the translation.  Feeling incredibly antsy, he
strode to the door to step into the corridor.  He peered into the depths,
praying that he'd see Apollo rounding the corner at any centon.  No luck,
his friend failed to appear.
	"Come on," he urged, wishing that he had gone down to the
transmitter rather than Apollo, but that was a moot point now.  "Where
are you?"
	"Sweet Kobol and holy frak!" Barthel was swearing.  "Frak, felger
and shit!  They're headed right for us at full speed!  They're in the
atmosphere!"
	Jolly told the younger man to be quiet, while Starbuck remained
where he was.  For the first time, Starbuck heard both Giles and Jolly
begin to murmur things in their native languages, more than likely
prayers.  Starbuck held his breath, wondering where Apollo was.
	A sudden tremor ran through the base, and Starbuck felt like
screaming his frustration as he realized that the Ellegua were firing on
them.  More specifically in the areas that Apollo was running through.
	"I'll be back!" he shouted to the others as he took off down the
hallway, in the direction he hoped was the one Apollo had taken.  He
ignored the protests and cautions that were being shouted at him, instead
more intent on finding where Apollo was located.
	He ran blindly for several centons, stumbling occasionally whenever
another blast was fired on the base.  Having no idea where he was going,
he only had instinct and the deduction that the concussions would be
stronger the closer he got to Apollo.  He was also in danger of losing
his orientation, especially when the metal passages gave way to tunnels
that bore into the dirt and rock.
	Finally, his patience won out, and he saw a figure coming toward
him.  Just about to yell at Apollo, the stronger blast yet rocked them,
and part of the tunnel collapsed.  Starbuck felt himself being pushed to
the floor by mounds of dirt and rock, and for the most terrifying centon
of his life, thought that he was going to be buried alive.  Cautiously,
he opened one eye when the dirt settled, and found that he was only
partially covered in earth.  Sitting up, he first pulled himself out from
the debris, then brushed himself off.  Satisfied that he was uninjured,
he examined his surroundings.
	The roof had only partially collapsed, showing that they weren't
that far underground.  They.  Him and Apollo.  Starbuck felt his eyes
widen as he realized that he couldn't see Apollo.  Feeling panic, he
turned to the large expanse of dirt that lay in front of him.
	"Buddy?" he called, not sure if he should walk forward to find him. 
"Apollo, can you hear me?"
	There was only silence for the briefest of microns, then he heard
the sound of dirt being moved.  Moving carefully, Starbuck followed it
until he caught sight of a stunned Apollo almost completely blanketed
with earth.  Taking careful steps, Starbuck moved to his side.
	"You okay?" he asked.
	Apollo groaned, moving his head to look up at Starbuck.  His face
was smeared with dirt and grime, almost the same colour as his hair and
goatee.  "Just bruised, I think."
	"Well, come on, they're not going to satisfied until they see that
you're..." Starbuck trailed off, not sure what exactly the Ellegua were
using to know that Apollo was here, but instead reached out to brush the
dirt and hair from his friend's forehead.  "Well, until they see that
your implant is off-line.  Meaning you're dead."
	Swallowing hard, he nodded as he used Starbuck's support to stand
up, then shook his head in disbelief.  They felt the earth shake again,
and Apollo looked at Starbuck in alarm.  "I don't believe this is
happening!"
	"Neither do I, buddy," Starbuck muttered as he pushed his friend
forward, and they ran as best they could back to the communications room.
	Giles looked up at them in relief when they entered.  "The
languatron's working now, and Cain can communicate with them.  But
they're still not satisfied.  There's a standoff right now, more or less,
but there's still a few potshots being made by the ships down here.  The
commander's trying to get them to wait until we can show them Apollo."
	The sound of Cain's voice, along with the rough one from earlier,
could be heard at a lower volume.  They at least sounded like they were
trying to negotiate something.  Apollo unsteadily made his way to the
console panel, while Jolly used the comline.  "Commander, we've got him!"
	"About time!" Cain snapped, sounded like he was wanting to use an
epithet or two in the phrase.  "Sit him down in front of the scanner, and
I'll get to you in a micron."
	"Yes, sir," Jolly answered, pulling out a chair for Apollo to sit
in.  With a wan smile, the captain sank down into it, looking like he'd
rather be anywhere else but there.  Jolly noticed Apollo's dirty
appearance, then Starbuck's, then raised an eyebrow.  "Do I want to know
what happened?"
	"You don't want to know," Starbuck added, as he started to dust his
jacket off.  After only a few swipes, though, he gave up when his fingers
became as dirty as the jacket.  Instead, he shrugged out of jacket to
just sit in his tunic.  "Other than those aliens trying to blow us to
Hades and back."
	"We were caught in a cave-in," Apollo replied, his voice quiet. 
"The tunnel collapsed where we were passing through."
	"Are you guys all right?" Giles asked, looking from one to the other
in concern.
	"We're fine, I think," Starbuck answered, while Apollo simply
nodded.
	"Captain Apollo," Tolen's voice said, coming through the speakers. 
Apollo straightened in his seat, as he waited for the instructions to
continue.  "Turn the scanner on, and look into it.  Cain's orders are for
you to show your implant, and hopefully, they'll see that you aren't a
Shelborn."
	"Obviously they've never seen one, if they think I'm a Shelborn with
my coloring and my height," Apollo muttered, activating the monitor.  Not
looking too happy, he reached out to push all of his bangs away from his
forehead, and turned the right side of his face toward the scanner.  "I'm
a pretty short Shelborn if that were the case..."
	"See?  He is not a Shelborn," Cain's voice said, clearly still
trying to convince the Ellegua of the truth.
	"Then what is he?" the gruff voice replied a few microns later. 
"One of your warriors, who was captured by the Shelborn?  They tried to
make him one of them?"
	Apollo tried not to wince at the words, but Cain cut in before he
could say anything.  "Something like that, yes.  That's all, Apollo. 
Thank you."
	"Yes, thank you," the Ellegua leader replied, and Apollo flashed a
slight smile before he got up from the scanner.  As the captain left, the
alien continued.  "Very well, we will withdraw our ships.  It appears
that our people have something in common, and it will be a great service
to both ourselves and to your people if we established an alliance."
	The relief in Cain's voice was almost palpable.  "Thank you.  We can
meet later to discuss terms."
	After the close call on the surface of Melusina, the leaders of the
two fleets met on the Pegasus to discuss their individual situations, and
the Shelborn.  The Ellegua, a race that was a curious mix between avians
and humanoids, had black feather-like hair and piercing black eyes.  They
had been at odds with the Shelborn for yahrens, culminating in a battle
that had wiped out an Elleguan satellite world, but had also succeeded in
evicting the Shelborn from that quarter of the star system.  There was
still the fear, however, of the Shelborn's eventual return, hence the
vigilant watch over Melusina.
	The Elleguan leader, Sheetswa, was most interested in meeting
Apollo, than anything else.  When the human captain and the rest of his
wing were finally introduced, Sheetswa examined him for a few microns,
then said via the languatron, "I know that our ability to scan your
implant frightened you."
	The ghost of a smile appeared on Apollo's lips, but it faded almost
immediately as he met the alien's gaze.  "I've had a lot of scares since
meeting up with the Shelborn, sir.  This one did catch me by surprise,
though."
	Sheetswa nodded slowly, watching Apollo carefully.  "I can
understand that.  If you wish, we can deactivate the energy output of
your implant so it is not visible to either our scanners or that of any
other anti-Shelborn race."
	Startled by the offer, Starbuck looked from Apollo to the alien,
trying to read their expressions.  The alien's was naturally difficult to
ascertain, but Apollo's was equally even.  In fact, it was rather
guarded.
	"What exactly would that involve?" Starbuck finally asked when he
realized that Apollo wasn't quite ready to answer.  "And what's the risk
to his well-being?"
	"Very minor," Sheetswa replied, looking directly at Starbuck for the
first time.  "We would simply alter it so its energy signature cannot be
detected.  It will take all of a twenty centons, at the most."
	Apollo nodded, digesting the facts he was just given, then glanced
over at Cain.  The commander's face was impassive at the moment, but by
the look in his eyes, Apollo knew that he had something to say in the
matter.  "Commander?"
	"I don't want to pressure you into something potentially dangerous,"
he began, studying Apollo's face intently, "but I have my ship and the
fleet to consider.  If the Ellegua had been five times more powerful than
they are, and if they hadn't paused to listen to my arguments, I would
have lost a good portion of the warriors on the surface.  So if it's
possible for these people to scan you from great distances, then I think
it's in our best interest to look seriously into this.  Otherwise..."
	"Right," Apollo sighed, not looking too happy at the way things were
ending up.  "I was just going to ask what my other options might be, but
I don't think I want to know.  All right, when can we do this?"
	One of Sheetswa's aides, a woman named Shaleesa, was assigned to
assist Doctor Tomalea in altering the implant.  Even with her alien
features, Starbuck noticed a strange expression about her as she prepared
for the procedure with Tomalea; an expression that bordered between
suspicion and fascination.  Starbuck tried to figure it out as he waited
in the operation room with Apollo, but he wasn't coming to any
conclusions.  The captain, on the other hand, hadn't noticed.  He was
sitting on the table, and Starbuck swore that he was trying not to look
nervous.
	"She says that she's done this hundreds of times with those of her
people who have these implants put into them," Starbuck was telling him,
not sure if he was trying to make Apollo feel better, or himself, or the
both of them.  For a few centons, Starbuck had gotten to speak to
Shaleesa privately before their arrival at the Life Center, and that was
when he had begun to notice her curious attitude.
	"That's good."  Apollo was staring across the room at the wall, a
distant expression on his face.
	With a frown, Starbuck examined his friend's face for what had to be
the hundreth time.  The recent shocks of the Ellegua attack and the
revelation about his implant had shocked him, but the only sign that
something was bothering him was that he had refused to let Athena
accompany him to the Life Center, preferring instead Starbuck's sole
company.  Starbuck also knew that Ila was on her way from the Star Kobol,
and she would be present by the time the procedure was finished.
	"Apollo, are you going to be okay?" he asked.
	He blinked in surprise, then smiled slightly.  "Things are just
happening way too fast at the moment, buddy."
	"I know.  Trust me, I know."  Starbuck glanced at the entrance to
the room, wondering when Tomalea and their guest would enter.  "Ah, well,
it'll be over soon, and I'll be here the entire time to keep an eye on
things."
	"Thanks, I appreciate that," Apollo told him, as he lay down on the
bed.  "I'm getting sick of this implant.  There are days when I just want
to rip it out and throw it away so I never have to deal with it again. 
Other times, it's like it's a part of who I am now, and I don't mind it. 
Unfortunately, I'm not in one of the latter moods at the moment."
	Smiling sympathetically, Starbuck waited with him for the few
centons before Shaleesa and Tomalea's entrance.  When they did arrive,
Starbuck remarked again that there wasn't a visible difference between
the two Elleguan genders, other than a slight color variation which made
Shaleesa's feathers have a blue tinge to the black.
	With that same expression, Shaleesa took command of the situation,
standing on one side of Apollo with Tomalea, while Starbuck remained on
the other.  They prepared for the procedure in silence, then she finally
turned her attention to the dark-haired man who lay before her.
	"It will be slightly painful," she warned as she gently turned his
head so his face was facing Starbuck, and she had a direct view of his
temple.  "However, that should soon pass."
	Starbuck looked at her with a worried expression.  "Aren't you going
to use a painkiller, or an anesthetic on him?"
	"I'll be fine, Starbuck," Apollo told him, but the look in his green
eyes showed that he was frightened at the announcement.  Almost
automatically, Starbuck reached out to hold his friend's hand, and
immediately felt Apollo squeeze it tightly.
	It wasn't quite the experience that Starbuck had expected,
especially when to both his and Tomalea's shocked eyes, Shaleesa opened
Apollo's implant.  For a few microns, he had been in pain, squeezing his
eyes shut, and Starbuck felt his hand being held in an almost agonizing
grip for about five microns.  After that, Apollo relaxed.
	There was intense concentration among the two women as Shaleesa
showed the human doctor where the problem area was, and after a few
gentle probings into the implant, they were finished.  Tomalea insisted
that Apollo remain in the Life Center for observation, while Starbuck was
to escort Shaleesa to the launching bay so she could return to her
people.
	Starbuck wasn't surprised when the trip started in silence, and he
wasn't about to talk to her.  As such, he was astonished when she
ventured to speak to him.  "You're very close to him, I've noticed.  Odd,
I think."
	He cast her a strange look.  "Odd?"
	"Yes.  While we have several thousand people in our civilization who
were given implants by the Shelborn, they're not accepted in our general
populace," she told him.  "It's rather sad, actually.  Even if they have
as many of the implants removed as they possibly could, it doesn't
necessarily work.  So to see you and he being so close, it's different."
	"Ah, well...  Apollo and I go way back."  Starbuck smiled slightly
as he spoke.  "One of our friends comes from a different culture than us,
and he's described us as anam cara.  I finally asked him what it means,
and he explained that it means 'soul friend.'  Very close friends, I
guess."
	She smiled.  "If your culture is able to accept those who would be
stigmatized in ours, then I congratulate you.  I've seen too many lives
ruined after the Shelborn were defeated, while we tried to get our lives
back to normal.  But nothing is ever the same after something like that. 
Even an anam cara, as you put it, would have been hard pressed to
remain."
	Digesting that information, Starbuck dropped the alien woman off in
the landing bay where a shuttle remained for her, then watched as the
ship launched.  The micron Shaleesa was gone, he returned to the Life
Center to check on how Apollo was doing.  Ila was already there, watching
over her sleeping son.  Seeing the two of them together, Starbuck
hesitated in the doorway.  He'd always been reluctant to intrude on
family moments, even if it was just a quiet one.
	Trying to go unnoticed, Starbuck turned away from doorway before the
siress could notice him, then quickly left the Life Center.  With a sigh,
he wondered what he would do now.  He wasn't tired, nor was he in the
mood for company.  Grudgingly, he made his way to one of the Pegasus's
observation lounges.
	The dark room was the perfect complement to the sense of fatigue
that seemed to threaten to rob his body of any iota of energy.  He walked
to the view ports, where he could have a clear view of the stars and the
two fleets, and sank down into a chair.  Grateful that he didn't have to
support himself by standing, he curled up into a comfortable position.
	But in a way, it wasn't comfortable.  Derdre, he remembered, would
often drag him to any place that had a few of the stars, be it a lounge
like this one, or the celestial dome.  Her real favorite was the
agroship, where she would lie in the pseudo-world, looking up at the
stars.  She was the true daughter of an adventurer, Cassiopia had once
said, smiling warmly at her husband on one of the many times they had
brought back an exhausted Derdre from an outing.  They would lay her in
her bed, then stand by to watch her, knowing that this would be one of
the few times they'd see Derdre stand still for more than five microns.
	With a slight smile, Starbuck thought about his little daughter, the
pride of his life that he never thought possible in the yahrens before. 
Growing up, he'd wanted only one thing, and that was a family.  As much
as he appreciated Apollo's attempts to bring him into his large family,
it still wasn't the same.  Apollo shared a connection with his parents,
siblings, and extended family; which was a bond of blood.  Starbuck had
no family; no parents or siblings that he knew about.  No one had ever
claimed him as their own, outside of Apollo's family.
	But then, when he found out that Cassiopia was expecting almost
eight yahrens ago, he'd been ecstatic.  He still smiled at the joy that
had swept over him, and then, of course, he winced as he remembered the
bump on the head he received when he had gone on a rampage of
celebration.  There, for the first time, there was someone else who
shared his blood.  His darling little daughter, with her mother's face
and her father's eyes.
	And he missed her more than anything.  That's what made sitting
there at the observation port so uncomfortable.  He was missing the feel
of Derdre's warm body snuggled against his as they looked out at the
stars together.
	Trying to push away the sadness, he turned his attention to the
Elleguan fleet, and then the Pegasus fleet. The ships were just floating
in space, and he stared at them, wondering what kinds of life the people
there had.  Did the people in his fleet know about the Cymorth and the
Shelborn?  And what experiences did the Elleguans have that made them
dislike and distrust those unfortunate enough to have the implants
similar to Apollo's?
	The answers obviously weren't going to come, and Starbuck leaned
back in his chair.  He noticed movement off to the right side of the
fleet, and he turned his eyes in that direction to follow it.  He
expected to see a patrol returning to the battlestar, or perhaps a
shuttle going between the different ships.  What he finally saw made him
cold.
	Cymorth ships.  Like dark predators, they entered into range of the
human and alien fleet, Starbuck wondered what the frak was going on up on
the bridge - why wasn't the alarm klaxon blaring by now?  He would have
gone to warn them himself, but he remained rooted to his spot, watching
the ships.
	The new arrivals seemed to pause for a micron, as though searching
the fleet to see what the situation was.  After ten microns of not
moving, they suddenly burst into action again.  With a blur of activity,
they shot forward and started firing their weapons.  Starbuck stared
gape-mouthed as he watched the destruction, barely aware that the klaxon
had finally gone off.
	Only the Elleguan ships were being attacked, and Starbuck thought he
saw - or hoped that he was seeing - multiple escape pods.  He couldn't be
sure, because that area of space was rapidly filling up with debris.
	"Dear sweet Kobol," he whispered, using it as a prayer rather than a
curse.
	The annihilation ended barely a centon later, and the Cymorth ships
moved off in what could have been a victory move.  One of the larger
vessels in the attack flotilla, moved forward, this time to the human
fleet.  Starbuck froze as it approached the Pegasus, reaching a point
where the ships were just about nose to nose.
	There was a tense few microns, and Starbuck briefly wondered why his
life wasn't flashing in front of his eyes like he expected it would. 
After all, wasn't he going to die?
	A sudden movement from the ship made Starbuck close his eyes,
expecting to be issued to the next realm as the alien ship fired on the
Pegasus, but when he realized that he was still in the land of the
living, he cautiously opened his eyes again.  The Cymorth fleet was gone,
and the only sign that something had happened was the floating remains of
the gutted Elleguan fleet.
	A show of force.  That's what it had to be.  The Cymorth, by both
destroying the humans' new allies and by having the standoff, was showing
who held more power.
	Starbuck's stomach lurched painfully, and he rose to his feet.  It
was clear to him how difficult life was going to be in the next few
sectars, at least until they outran both the Shelborn and Cymorth.  The
Cylons they could handle, but the Cymorth were something that Starbuck
prayed he'd never have to see again.
	With a heavy heart, he left the observation deck to head down his
Viper, so he could join the search for any survivors of the massacre.  He
prayed that they would find at least a few.
	There were none.

To Be Continued.......