Battlestar Galactica
Reflections of the Soul
by Rae

In the Beginning...
     
     He felt like he had gone through too many painful rounds in a
fight that was not designed for him to win.  The pounding in his head
throbbed with even more intensity as he tried to make even the
slightest move to alleviate the discomfort he felt in the rest of his
body at that micron.  His numbed arms would not obey his mind's
commands and his legs seemed to him as if they were made of heavy lead. 
As he tried to swallow to alleviate the dryness in his throat, he could
sense the tinny taste his own blood there.  He wearily decided not to
try to move anymore because he was so drained of energy.
     As he rested there quietly, he could smell the smoky wood smell of
a burning fire intermingled with the smells of mold, dampness and
decay.  All clouded his senses as he slowly felt himself become more
aware of his surroundings.  He tried to open his eyes but felt that
they were weighted down somehow.  Sharp pain reverberated in his head
as he tried to command at least his eyes to open so he could find out
where he was.  Slowly his eyelids finally obeyed his mind's commands,
fluttering open and they began to focus on the dark and gloomy
surroundings.  He turned his head, ever so slowly as not to cause
himself anymore pain than was necessary to achieve his objective.  As
he licked his lips, they felt dry and cracked.  The crust of his own
blood dried upon them showed him that he had survived  something, but
what?
     The last thing he remembered was launching that patrol from the
Galactica.  A simple training mission with two new cadets, fresh from
the fleet academy.  Young, eager for adventure these two were.  They
reminded him so much of himself when he was their ages.  Something that
seemed like another lifetime ago.  So much had happened since then.  As
he looked into their bright, eager, excited expressions, he wondered if
they realized their own mortality at that micron.  That every time they
launched from the great battlestar, they risked never returning, dying
for a cause.  That cause was the survival of the human race.
     When he had first joined the Colonial Service by enrolling in the
Academy, all he had wanted to do was fly the most complex and advanced
fighting machine in the colonies.  The viper.  His father had taught
him how to fly since he was a young boy.  Lesson upon lesson with his
father when he was home on leave from his own duties in defense of the
colonies.  Then came his sister and then his younger brother.  They all
followed the footsteps of their father.  And his father before that. 
And his father before that on back through the generations.  All joined
to defend the colonies.  All joined to fight the cylons.  In the end,
he didn't know if it was a sense of patriotism, defense of his deeply
rooted personal beliefs, or something else altogether that made him
join.  But in the end, he had given up his own dreams.  His own
desires.  His own interests.  And they had been many. 
     When he was young, he had loved his music.  Still did even through
he had very little time now to enjoy it because of his position and
duties. He had taken private instruction in the keyboard for over 11
yahrens, up until he entered the academy.  Practiced diligently for
centars on end.  His mother had loved to listen to him play, something
he still did every once in a great while, for relaxation, or for his
own pleasure.  There were luckily still many keyboards within the fleet
and one was his own.  Hidden away in his quarters.  No one even knew it
was there.  It was one that he had found in the wreckage of what had
once been his home on Caprica.  His mother had given him his keyboard
on his 7th yahren birthday and it had been one of the things he had
been able to salvage during his final trip to Caprica, after returning
his grieving father to the safety of the last battlestar.
     But as he grew older, his dreams had changed and evolved.  No more
did he want to play music for the entertainment of others.  He turned
to playing it for his own enjoyment.  No, his dreams led him to an
interest in history and the past, where he sat and studied ancient
texts for centars and centars.  Immersing himself in the ancient
studies as did his father before him.  It intrigued him, the past. 
Their beginnings.  Everything they had endured and achieved.
     But that interest passed him by also.  As a teenager, he became
deeply intrigued in what was beyond the small portion of the universe
that was the twelve colonies of man.  Beyond his own insignificant
knowledge of the universe.  Beyond the point where dreamers and
explorers from the colonies had charted, explored and written about in
books.  Out there.  Somewhere beyond the stars that he could see at
night from his own back yard.  But there were no deep space exploration
probes set up.  All the resources of the colonies were diverted to
defending the twelve colonies.  Defending their homes and their
families.  So he joined the military and attended the academy.  He
served the colonies with honor and with pride.  He made a name for
himself amongst all the battlestars for his skill and his daring.  For
his seat of the pants flying.  His best friend Starbuck was the same
way.  Maybe that's why they made such a great team.
     Now there were no colonies, nothing to defend but 220 ships
containing what was left of their civilization.  Gone were the great
cities, the arts, the history, the immense amount of knowledge of a
great civilization.  Now they were on the run, trying to survive,
searching for a home, a future.  For a place to live their lives in
peace.  Searching for Earth.
     Now instead of the three yahrens of training that he, himself, had
received at an technologically advanced military academy, new recruits
had to settle for a yahren in a makeshift training center on one of the
ships in the fleet.  Gone were the knowledgeable instructors, the
finest in equipment and training facilities.  Now it was on-the-job
training for the young cadets.  And he did what he had to do, taught
them what they needed to know to survive.
     And this training mission was a part of that education.  The young
man that had stood before him in the launch bay of the battlestar had
looked a lot like his younger brother, Zac.  The same dark hair, the
same blue eyes.  The same lean build.  Apollo himself had been the only
one to take after their mother with green eyes.  His sister and his
younger brother both were blue eyed, like their father.  And Talmar
could have been mistaken for his younger brother.  So much like Zac. 
The impatience that had been there in his eyes.  The eagerness to fly
to glory.  Those desires had gotten Zac killed and in turn, shattered
Apollo's heart.
     Then Apollo looked at the young woman before him.  Corrine.  A
very lovely young girl - and a girl she definitely still was.  She did
not look old enough to be in a viper cockpit.  She looked like she
should still be in instructional period each cycle.  Tall and slender
as a reed in the wetlands of Libra, with long light brown hair and dark
eyes reminded him of Sheba, as did the determined look that was on her
face.  For all her youth, Corrine was at the top of her class.  One of
the brightest recruits to come through the fleet academy so far and
with so much potential.  Starbuck had told him that her skill in the
simulator was impressive.  And it wasn't easy to impress Starbuck.
     The three of them had launched.  A long range patrol to a distant
planetary system.  Chart it, search for possible provisions for the
fleet and return.  Simple.  Apollo felt the pain in his head increase a
little as he thought back to that time.  The awe that Talmar spoke of
while flying through space to the system.  The silence of Corrine and
her clipped answers, until Apollo told her to relax and not be so 'by
the book.'  Apollo felt a slight smile tug at his blood crusted lips as
he thought of how he had changed over the past yahrens that he would
say something like that. Starbuck would have been laughing in glee if
he had heard Apollo say that to Talmar and Corrine.  
     Apollo's thoughts drifted back to the patrol.  And the fact of
what they encountered in that system was nothing that Apollo had ever
expected. The scans of the system had shown primitive stages of
development.  No industrial development.  Nothing he could think of
explained the attack craft that suddenly and mysteriously appeared out
of nowhere.  One minute there were just 3 vipers in space.  Then
suddenly there were 8 ships of a design that Apollo had never seen
before, with weapons that were unbelievable.  And very deadly.
     Apollo had tried to save his cadets, he had fought and tried to
save them.  Talmar had gone first, his skills no match for the unknown
fighters. Corrine had shown why she was considered one of the best of
her class as her skill enabled her to last longer than her wingmate. 
Valiantly fighting to the end.  Apollo could hear her screams of pain
as her viper fell to the planet below them.  
     Apollo quickly realized that he was the only one left and that he
was badly outnumbered as the mysterious craft turned their attentions
to him.  He was next to die and he knew it.  Apollo had fleetingly
thought of his family and friends aboard the Galactica, wishing he
could tell them goodbye.  But it was too late.  He maneuvered and
actually damaged one of the craft before they finally caught up with
him.  He thought of his father and sister.  Of his son.  Of Starbuck
and Boomer.  All of his friends on the Galactica.  His final thoughts
were of Sheba and praying that she would find the strength to go on. 
The craft fired on him in succession and he felt the searing pain as
the craft's weapons hit their mark.  Pain so intense that he cried out
as his viper rolled out of control towards the planets surface. 
     Within microns, the surface of the planet rushed up to meet him
and he prayed to the Lords and to God for his survival as he fought for
it with everything that he had.  For his life.  Not willing to sit idly
by for those beings to take his life away from him as they did Talmar
and Corrine.  He wanted to go home.  He wanted to see his loved ones
again.  Apollo had tried to regain some control of the viper and its
crash landing as he vainly fought for his life.  He remembered the
craft hitting the ground violently. Somehow it had remained in some
semblance of tact, coming to a rest in a field, then he remembered
hearing voices, one he thought was familiar, then being lifted from his
fighter.  Apollo had passed out from the searing pain in his leg that
took over his entire body.  
     And now he was here.  Wherever here was.  Now he understood why
his arms and legs would not obey his commands.  He was sitting in a
large wooded chair, strapped to it, unable to move.  He could see the
wound that was on his leg and he knew that soon he would feel the pain
from that injury, just as soon as the shock wore off.  The blackened
skin that covered from his left thigh to his ankle, the brown of dried
blood and the redness of burned skin further into the wound, mingled
with the fresh red blood that still seeped slowly out of the burned
center.  His hands were red and blistered, but he wasn't sure if he was
feeling the pain from them.  He knew he must look a sight from what he
could see for himself of his condition.
     Apollo was surprised to notice that his boots were gone and
vaguely wondered why.  Then he noticed his flight jacket was also
missing as was his uniform tunic.  Red welts covered his chest and
arms.  He was puzzled as to where they came from.  How did he get them? 
What had happened to him?  He was positive that these injuries were not
from the crash, so where did they come from?
     Apollo heard a laugh slowly build to the point that it was ringing
out over the semi-stillness of the room.  Over the crackling of the
fire that burned before him.  Such a malicious, malevolent laugh. 
Apollo felt a chill run down his spine at the sound.  Such an evil
sound.  He tried to move again only to find that he did not have the
strength, ending up feeling as weak as a newborn feline.  Apollo felt a
flash of longing for the comfort of his father's arms about him.  The
comfort of his mother's embrace as she would kiss his childhood
injuries telling him that they were all better now, brushing away his
tears with her soft touch.  
     The high-pitched almost whiney voice broke his thoughts like a
balloon being over inflated.  Apollo felt defeat like he had never felt
before with the loss of those comforting thoughts.  Loneliness swept
over him and weighted him down.  
     "Well, Captain Apollo of the battlestar Galactica.  You grace my
humble castle with your presence.  A person from such a highly advance
race of people.  Your coming was foretold to me."
     Apollo struggled to raise his head as he looked around the room,
trying to get control of the nausea and the dizziness that threatened
to overwhelm him.  He could not find the source of the voice.
     "Who are you?"  Apollo shouted with all the strength he could
muster but his voice came out sounding weak and pathetic.  He wanted to
sound stronger than he felt.  To not give his captors  any indication
of how weak he was.  "Where are you?  And what do you want with me?" 
     "You're coming was foretold to me.  Promised even."  The voice
said sadistically, ignoring Apollo's questions.  "You are a prize
indeed.  You will be the key to my victory."
     "What do you mean?  The key to what victory?"  Apollo felt his
anger and frustration rise to the surface.  He tried to twist his head
to see where the voice was coming from but instantly regretted the
attempt as pain shot through him like a laser.  Bile rose in his throat
and threatened to choke him as he tried to overcome the nausea that
took hold and would not relent.  He swallowed that acidic bile and felt
the burning of his throat afterwards.  He fought for control, but felt
himself losing ground quickly.
     "I want your battlestar."
      Apollo suddenly sat straighter, even though his head and leg let
him know their displeasure with that movement.  Pain coursed through
his body, but it seemed diminished somewhat from his surprise.
     "What?!"  Apollo yelped in his surprise, his voice sounding
slightly stronger to his ears.  He wondered for an instant if he was
dealing with a person who was completely insane.  
     "It has been promised to me for quite a long time now and with
your arrival, I believe that my true destiny, the one that the great
one foretold will come to pass as promised.  He foretold your coming
and he told me with your arrival I would have the great battlestar
within the palm of my hand." 
     "Do... do you even know what a battlestar is?  And where it is?"
Apollo thought back to the scans of this planet.  It was so primitive.
There was no way he could know what a battlestar really was or where it
was for that matter.  But if this planet was so primitive, where did
those mysterious craft come from?  How could technology like that
exists here? 
     "It is a great craft."  The voice answered patiently as though it
was talking to a small child.  "A great vessel of war and conquest that 
flies amongst the stars in the heavens.  It has the ability to destroy
planets in its wake."  The tone changed to one of caustic sarcasm. 
"Oh, yes Captain Apollo.  I know what one is."
     Apollo tried to find some strength and found just a small reserve
as he replied determinedly, "You'll never get it.  Never get near it."
     A peal of mad laughter rang out, echoing throughout the chamber.
Apollo wished he could cover his ears because the echoing of the high
pitched laugh made his head hurt even more.  "Oh yes I will.  The great
one will get me there.  I will rule the great ship and its crew will
obey my commands."
     "Just who is this 'Great One' and what price is he asking of you
for all of this?"
     Another laugh, one that was deeper and different, broke through
the chamber and shivers ran up Apollo's spine.  He knew that laugh. 
But it couldn't be.  Dear God, it couldn't be!
     "Iblis."  Apollo whispered, dread filled his voice and his very
being.  That dread turned to pure horror as the vision in white
appeared before the imprisoned Apollo.  His smile seemed to grow even
wider as he looked upon the visage of Apollo.  
     "I told you that I would be seeing you again.  That I was not
finished with you yet you're surprised."  Iblis said overly graciously. 
The count's empty eyes looked over the blooded, beaten, injured form of
Apollo and his expression seemed to be one that was pleased at what he
saw before him.  .
     "I thought the Ship of Lights had taken care of you."  Apollo
clenched his teeth as he spoke, his voice full of hatred for the being
that stood before him.  He had not changed in the 2 yahrens since his
last appearance.  Still the same handsome face, still the pristine
white robes.  And Apollo hated this being more than any he had ever
encountered.  Not for just the dissension he caused within the fleet. 
Nor for the lies that he told.  Nor for the fact that Apollo died at
Iblis's hand.  No, Iblis crime against Apollo was more personal.  One
that was close to Apollo's heart.  It involved someone that Apollo
loved with all his heart.  It involved...
     "Sheba.  How is my lovely Sheba?"  Iblis smiled a smile that made
the Count look like a benevolent man who was asking about someone he
loved dearly.  
     Apollo felt a hated so intense build within him that he felt as
though it was a burning inside of him.  Apollo's green eyes flashed as
he glared at the hated man in white, ignoring all the pain that he felt
from his injuries.  
     "Sheba is no concern of yours, Iblis.  She hates you as much as I
do."  Apollo spat out with some false bravado.  He knew that Sheba
hated Iblis with every fiber of her being, but he secretly worried
about her own unconscious vulnerability to Iblis's will.  Apollo had
wondered that if they ever met the Prince of Darkness again, would
Iblis be able to reach past her defenses to be able to control her
again?  Apollo had secretly worried about that possibility since their
last encounter with the agent of evil. 
     "No matter, Apollo.  Even though you stole her love from my
rightful possession, Sheba will soon be mine.  She will come to me to
save you.  She will sacrifice her mortal soul to me to save you.  And
then she will be mine.  Forever."  Iblis leaned down and looked Apollo
squarely in his face. "You will never get her back.  Then in time, her
love will return to me.  I was the one she loved before you, and I will
be the object of her love again."
     "That's a lie.  The only reason she turned to you was that I never
voiced my true feelings to her.  You beguiled her at a time where she
was emotionally weak and vulnerable.  That's why she turned to you." 
Apollo looked Iblis straight in the eye, his voice carried a hard edge. 
"But that has all changed.  Sheba and I share a bond that you can never
sever."
     Iblis looked at Apollo intently for several centons, then rose.
"You asked Thane what price he was paying for my assistance.  The
price, my dear Apollo, is quite simple.  The price is that he deliver
Sheba to me unharmed."
     Apollo's jaw dropped as a look of shocked disbelief came across
his face.  He felt his heart almost stop and fall to his stomach.
     "You're totally mad." Apollo whispered breathlessly.  
     "No Apollo.  I am quite sane.  Starbuck will die.  So will Boomer.
Your sister is a beautiful young woman and will be a nice addition to
my dominion, but unfortunately she does not stir my being as Sheba
does.  In the end, Sheba will be mine and rule at my side."  Iblis
watched as Apollo's anger grew and he tried futilely to break his
bonds.  Iblis sighed in boredom.  "Adama, unfortunately, must die also
for he will never bend to my will."  With that Iblis turned and walked
away.
     "NO!  IBLIS!"  Apollo shouted angrily with a hint of desperation
in his voice.  "I will come for you, Iblis.  You will not win."
     "You will not be able to.  Thane will take care of that, my dear
captain.  When he gets done with you, you won't even be able to save
yourself.  And then you will be mine also.  Your soul will be in
servitude to me."  With that final statement, Iblis vanished into thin
air.
     Apollo stopped his struggles.  Breathing heavily, he heard a
scraping sound behind him and tried to turn his head to see what could
possibly be coming out of the darkened area of the room.  He watched as
a tall, thin haggard-looking man walked out of the shadows, wearing
white robes, like Iblis, only his was adorned with red and gold lions,
the ancient symbol of royalty on the colony Leo.  The man's thin face
held eyes that were red with hatred and rage and seemed to have a spark
of madness about them.  Apollo wondered momentarily who this man was,
then realized this man had to be Thane.  What could this man be
planning to do to him?  Apollo knew in an instant that he really didn't
want to find out.  
     Thane smiled maliciously as he stopped in front of Apollo, looking
down at the beaten, battered Captain like he was looking down at a
rodent that he planned to kill.  
     "You are mine now, Captain Apollo.  When I am through with you,
you will be begging for death, but it will not come.  You will feel
your bones break and hot metal poured on your sensitive flesh, burning
it away to the bone.  You will cry in agony, but there will be no
relief.  You will be a broken man, Captain when I am finished with you. 
You have my word on that." 
     Looking into those crazed eyes, Apollo felt a fear that he had
never known.  One he knew he must overcome if he wanted to survive.
     "You cannot do this, Thane."  Apollo tried to reason with the mad
man before him, so he kept his voice level and calm, even though he was
not feeling calm.
     "That's KING Thane to you!"  Thane screamed angrily, his lips
curling into a snarl as he glared at Apollo.  "I am King Thane, ruler
of Draconia and soon to be the ruler of the heavens and beyond."
     Thane curtly motioned to the large shape of a man standing
silently off to the side. Apollo watched as the man brought out a ladle
with a liquid dripping off of the small bowl shaped end., then silently
moved over to stand in front of Apollo.  Thane stealthily moved to the
other side of the fire, looking at Apollo with what could only be
describe as pure hatred. 
     "Now Captain.  You will tell me where your pathetic fleet is.  You
will tell me what I want to know. I want that battlestar and I will
have it. Now tell me the location of the fleet."
     Apollo looked at him steadily, his gaze showing none of the fear
that he felt inside.
     "Burn in hell."
     Thane smiled.  Not a comforting smile, but a smile of pure evil
pleasure.
     "Just what I was hoping you'd say."  Thane continued to smile as
he motioned for the guard to tilt the ladle ever so slightly.
     Apollo could do nothing as the hot searing metal hit the sensitive
skin of his wrist, but scream in intense agony.


And On the Seventh Day... 

     The sun shone brightly, filtering through the opening that served
as a window for the very modest home.  The crude makeshift curtains
fluttered in the gentle cooling breeze.  The still form of a man lay on
the straw and feather mattress on the wooden post bed, the rough
blanket drawn up over his sleeping body.  An insect flew in the opening
and gently buzzed around the sleeping man's head, finally landing on
the tip of his nose.  The insect sat there, fluttering its wings, then
moved over the sensitive skin.  Suddenly there was the slightest of
movement and the insect flew quickly from the danger it suddenly
sensed.  
     Its presence had roused the sleeping man, slowly awakening him to
the insistent pounding in his head.  He slowly raised an arm up to
scratch the tickle that he felt on the tip of his nose, then rested his
hand against the side of his head, wishing that the drum-like pounding
would end.  As he carefully touched the side of his head, his hand came
in contact with some type of coarse material wrapped around his head
like a crude bandage.  Carefully, his eyes still closed, he gently
explored the material and found that a dry crusted substance was on the
material on the right side of his head, close to his right temple.  He
sighed with relief mixed with some fatigue at the effort he just put
out as he laid his arm back to his side.  He at least knew what was
causing his headache and wondered vaguely what had happened to him. 
Another thought flitted across his mind as he also wondered exactly
where he was.
     The man continued to lay there vaguely aware of the straw of the
mattress prickling his skin, aware of the pain resounding in his head,
and aware of the fact that he had to open his eyes sometime.  But he
was content to just continue to lie there, drifting with the peace and
quiet surrounding him, the only noise that he could make out was that
of the birds singing a happy tune that he wished he could enjoy.  It
was difficult to open his eyes, they felt so heavy and weighted down so
he was content to just lay there for a while longer to give himself
time to regroup.  He felt so tired and he felt comforted by laying
there.  
     A short time later, the injured man turned his head carefully
towards the sound of the singing birds as he tried opening his eyes
again, blinking rapidly as his eyes rejected painfully the brightness
of the light.  He forced his eyes shut again then ever so carefully
opened them again, waiting for them to adjust to the brightness of
daylight as he looked out at the sunshine and the green grass with tall
trees that spread out before him from the window opening.  Part of him
noticed that the shutters were open wide and the sweet smelling breeze
of early summer was still gently moving the threadbare makeshift
curtains on the each side of the opening.  His head though continued to
throb with a little more force, and his eyes took a few more centons to
adjust to the brightness of the sunlight.
     The young man continued to lay there, his mind whirling as he
tried to comprehend what he was seeing around him, asking himself just
how he got here and wondering where he was.  The room was bare with the
exception of a chair and the makeshift bed that he was lying on, both
looked crudely hand crafted as if only to serve a purpose, not for
beauty or durability.  He felt the straw from the mattress prick his
sensitive skin as strands of it made its way through the rough
covering.  Slowly he raised his hand in the air to look at it and
stared as though he was discovering something new and fascinating, then
he took another look around the room.  His mind slowly starting to
digest what was actually before him.
     As he laid there, looking back at his hand, he realized that he
was not sure how he got here and that bothered him even more than
before.  He was not even sure where 'here' was, but he knew that
nothing seemed the least bit familiar to him, not even his own hand. 
Slowly the young man reached down and threw back the covers to find
that he was at least was not naked under the covers.  For a micron
there he wondered if he even had any clothes on because of how sharply
he felt the prickling of the straw in the mattress.  But he did have on
something -- a pair of pants made of a some rough dark material
reaching down to his ankles was the only thing he had on.  
     Slowly he felt some of his strength returning as he struggled to
sit in an upright position, his body stiff and sore, impatiently
waiting for the moments of dizziness to pass.  As he turned to sit on
the side of the bed, his bare feet rested on the coldness of a dirt
floor.  A little curious by that, he looked around the room again.  He
felt surprised that his feet rested on a dirt floor, like he was
expecting something else to be there.  As the coolness seeped into his
feet, he absently wondered where his boots were.  Then thought about
the rest of his clothes.
     The sound of a click interrupted his thoughts and made him turn
his attention to the door as it swung open to admit a tall, lean, but
muscular white-haired man, whose blue eyes surveyed him first with
surprise, then with unbridled curiosity. 
     "Well,"  The man's voice boomed out, open friendliness in his
tone.  "I'm glad to see that you have finally decided to join the land
of the living, my boy.  We were a might bit worried about you there. 
'Fraid you might not ever wake up.  You've been sleeping for quite a
while." 
     The young man looked at the older man, at first surprised by his
appearance, then felt some trepidation come over him.  This man was not
familiar to him.  Not in the least.  Although the long white hair
seemed to stir something in his mind, he could not think of the man's
name or if this was his home that the injured man was in.  
     "How long have I been here?" asked the younger man curiously in a
voice raspy from disuse.  He was feeling a lot of confusion at the
situation he found himself in.  Who was this man?  And why could he not
remember the man's name?  How did they meet?  
     "About 6 days."  The older man's reply broke though the mist that
was starting to cloud the younger man's mind.  "But there's no telling
how long you were wandering out there in them woods though.  When I
found you, you were half starved and very confused.  Had a nasty gash
on your head, along with lots of cuts, bumps and bruises.  Your leg was
burned and had a rather nasty gash in it, but I took care of that for
ya.  You're just lucky I found you when I did, lad."
     Feeling even more confused and disoriented, the man looked at the
white-haired man, as if he was hoping he could glean the answers to his
unspoken questions from this man's eyes.  Confusion was starting to
gave way to fear as the young man realized that during this whole time
the older man had yet to call him by name.  Then a shock went through
his body like a jolt of lightning.  HE did not even know his own name!!
     "Where am I?  And who are you?"
     The white-haired man chuckled gently to himself, seeing the
confusion clearly written on the youthful face.  "Well, lad, the name
is Brannigan and where you are at is my sister's place.  Lucky for you
we were so close when I found you."  Brannigan replied in a lower tone,
hoping to alleviate any of the confusion and possible fears that were
running though the young one's head.  
     Brannigan had been on his way to his younger sister's farm when he
had run across the young man sitting before him.  Clothes in tatters,
made of a material that he had never seen before in all of Draconia,
the old knight was more concerned about the blood that had crusted on
the lad's face, covering one closed, swollen eye and matted in the
lad's dark hair. As he had surveyed the boy further, he had discovered
a nasty injury to his leg,.  Charred and blistered around the gaping
burn, Brannigan had thought that the lad had survived a hideous torture
as some cruel bastard's hand.
     The loss of blood combined with the injuries he had sustained had
weakened the young lad to the point that he was not thinking
coherently. Stumbling to his feet, then collapsing back to the ground,
the young man had valiantly tried to make a stand against the unknown
Brannigan, but had lost his battle as quickly as he had tried to wage
it.  Unconscious on the ground, Brannigan had done what he could to
stem the flow of blood from the still seeping wound on his leg,
removing bits of material, charred and uncharred from the area. 
Infection had been Brannigan's chief concern.  The old knight had seen
many a battle injury, but nothing like the injuries that had been
inflicted on the lad.  He had sent a prayer of thanks to God above,
thankful that the lad was out cold so that he could not feel the pain
that Brannigan's ministrations were causing.  
     As the elder man had lifted the lad over his shoulders and then
laid him across his steed's back.  Brannigan has gasped out loud at the
wounds on the young man's back, wounds that looked like marks from a
beating.  The marks were scabbed over and many were pink and healing,
but they were still disturbing.  What had happened to this boy?  Had he
been a prisoner of war?  Subjected to some sort of punishment under the
strong arm rule of Thane?  That was when he noticed the lad's wrist
with the severe burns that showed some small signs of healing.  The old
knight shuttered as he looked closely at the developing scars and the
severity of the burns to this boy's wrists.  That was the final straw. 
He knew then that the lad had suffered greatly at the hand of Thane and
then had been left to die.  
     The old knight then looked up at the sky with the beginnings of
night and the stars twinkling through, praying to his God in heaven. 
'Who is this child, Lord?  Battered, bruised, beaten.  He has endured
much at someone's hands from the looks of him.  And I know who those
hands belonged to but why?  What could this boy had done to Thane?  Or
what information did Thane want from him?  Whatever it was, you have
now delivered him to me, to my care and I will do my best to make sure
that he lives to fight another day."
     Brannigan's reflections were interrupted by the sound of the lad's
voice.  He quickly shifted to the present.
     "Found me?  So you don't know what happened to me?" the dark
haired young man asked curiously.
     "No, but the clothes you were wearing were quite torn.  You might
have been in some sort of battle in Upper Draconia.  Or you could have
been a prisoner of war.  You be one of King Celdric's warriors?" 
Brannigan asked.
     The man sat quietly for a micron, then shook his head.  "I don't
know of any King Celdric."  He paused for a micron, seemingly
thoughtful, then continued, a mild note of panic creeping into his
voice.  "To tell you honestly, I don't even know who I am." 
     Brannigan looked at the dark-haired man in wonderment.  "Well,
lad, I'm not surprised.  You did have a nasty bump and gash on the head
along with your other injuries.  Your leg was quite nasty too, but I
took care of what I could for ya the best I could since I am not a
healer.  Just an old soldier that has doctored many a battlefield
injury."
     "So who did?"
     "My sister Meghan took care of you a lot better than I could have
since she's the healer in this part of Draconia.  You also had several
welts that looked like they were made by an old 'cat-o'-nine tails'
whip and some of those were quite infected.  But Meghan took care of
that for ya too." 
     The dark-haired man shook his head as he looked at Brannigan.  "I
don't wish to seem ungrateful for all that you and your sister has done
for me, but you don't know anything about me.  Why are you interested
in helping me?" the man asked, his expression one of loss and
confusion.
     "No, I'm sorry to say I don't know anything about you, but out
there somewhere is a family looking for you.  Parents who love you,
siblings who are searching for you.  I do the same for you that I hope
would be done for a child of mine in the same situation.  And about you
not knowing who you are, I wouldn't worry about it too much.  The bump
to the head probably caused some loss of memory.  It'll all come back
to you soon, I'm willing to bet."  
     Brannigan stroked his long white beard as he gazed into the
startling green eyes of the lad before him, then leaned forward
conspiratorially, chuckling lightly, "Then you'll remember the lovely
lady and her jealous husband who probably gave you those injuries. 
Then you'll wish that you hadn't remembered any of it at all."
     Brannigan laughed leisurely, making the young man smile at the
thought, hoping that the older man was right about his memory, and
maybe even the lady part.  Brannigan watched as the young man started
to smile, then laughed out loud.  Those eyes held Brannigan almost
spellbound.  Green eyes such as his were not common among the people of
this world.  Brannigan quickly brought his thoughts back to the present
situation, before he drifted off on some folly.  
     "My sister has gathered some clothes and boots that you can wear
since yours are no good any more and we are going to have to think up
something to call ya now won't we?  We can't just have you wandering
around and not have a name to call you by now can we?"  Brannigan
turned to walk out of the room.  "I'll do some thinking about a name
for you and if you can wait just a centon, I'll get those clothes so
you can get out of that bed and this room.  Then you can finally come
out and have a bite to eat, besides the sunshine and fresh air will
probably do wonders for you."
     The young man watched as Brannigan turned and left the small room,
closing the door smartly behind him.  He then got up from the bed,
wandering over to the window opening and staring out at the serene
scene before him. His mind was a total blank.  No name, no memories, no
nothing.  A small flicker of fear returned in him.  Who was he and
where was he?  Everything here looked so strange, yet so familiar at
the same time.  He felt that what he saw here was something he hadn't
seen for quite a long time, he was sure of that.  But there were so
many unanswered questions - who was he?  Did he have a home, family,
and friends, people who cared about him?  And why was all of this
strange and unfamiliar to him?  If he was not from here, then where was
he from?  The young man shook his head to clear his thoughts,
regretting that move as soon as he did it.  The pain returned in force
to his head.
     Brannigan returned a few centons later with some dark clothes
draped over his arm.  "Here ya go lad.  Think you can handle this by
yourself?"  The young man nodded that he could as he took the clothes
from the other man, laying them on the bed.  "Now I'll be right outside
the door here if you need me.  Come on out when your ready.  Meghan has
the table ready for noon meal and I set you a place at the table. 
There's enough food prepared to satisfy both of our stomachs."  With
that Brannigan turned and left the room again, this time though he
closed the door quietly behind him.
     The man looked at the clothes Brannigan had left for him.  All
black in color and made of a rough, scratchy material.  There was a
pair of black pants and a black shirt, and what looked to be a long
vest or tunic that was outlined in black and gold thread.  The boots
were black also, and everything looked like it would fit him.  But
these clothes were nothing like he had worn before.  He was not sure
what he wore before only that this was not anything like it.  He wished
he could remember, but nothing was coming to mind.
     Where was he from?  And who was he?  And why couldn't he remember?
He fervently wished that he could have those questions answered.  And
soon. 


In the darkness of space...

     Commander Adama of the last surviving colonial battlestar,
Galactica, stood in the almost tomb-like quiet of the celestial chamber
looking out at the stars ahead of him.  Out there somewhere in the
unending vastness of space was his son, but where?  Apollo was five
days overdue to return from a long range scouting mission with two
newly commissioned ensigns.  Nothing had been heard from them since
they left the fleet to explore a planetary system that had appeared on
long range scans over seven days ago.  Adama did not like any of the
implications that were becoming unavoidably clear now.  Something
terrible had happened to his son and his patrol.
     Adama sighed deeply and pressed a hand to his throbbing temples. 
He was having a hard enough time keeping most of the warrior contingent
from launching to go search for the missing pilots.  He had Starbuck,
Boomer and Sheba on an especially tight rein to keep them from
launching on a foolhardy search for Apollo.  Adama could still feel
their accusing eyes upon him, their words of frustration and anger
reverberated in his mind over and over again.  Heated, hurtful words
that they had repeated many times before for different reasons over the
yahrens, but this time Adama had given up fighting with the three of
them.  Trying to make them see his point of view. His reasoning behind
doing what he had to do for the good of the fleet.  
     Because his reasoning, his logic for his actions was not what they
wanted to hear.  They were hurt.  They were angry.  They wanted to go
after Apollo and bring him back home.  The three accused Adama of not
wanting to give any special treatment to Apollo because he was his son,
but they felt that sometimes Adama was harder on Apollo and Athena than
on anyone else under his command, more hesitant to help them when they
needed it, just because they had the distinction of being his children. 
And Adama knew that accusation was true.  He could see why Starbuck and
Boomer would not understand where Adama was coming from, but he
expected Sheba to understand. With her father being Commander Cain, she
had to have also been handed the same treatment that Adama gave to his
own two offspring under his command.
     But she had not.  Cain had not made the distinction between his
daughter and everyone else under his command.  Cain had been tougher on
her in some respects, but in others he had not.  Even though Sheba had
not been given any special treatment while she served on the Pegasus,
Cain still made the fact that she was his child a thought that was in
his mind when she went out on dangerous mission.  Sheba felt that Adama
was giving Apollo and Athena almost impossible expectations.  There
were times when Sheba felt that Adama refused to save his children just
because they were his children and he did not want to be accused of
doing more to spare his own offspring than he would for any other
person under his command.  
     But at that very micron, just as he had since the first centon
that he had been informed that Apollo's patrol was overdue, Adama had
been fighting his own overwhelming war within himself to take the
Galactica and search for Apollo and his patrol.  Adama's mind had
played out may scenarios over the past five days as to what happened to
his son's patrol.  Was he hurt?  Was he captured?  Was he dead?  Adama
shook his head to erase that last thought from his mind.  If Apollo was
dead, Adama would have felt it. He would know without a doubt.  Apollo
was his son, a part of him.  No, Apollo was hurt and a tugging at
Adama's heart was telling him that his son was in desperate need of his
father's presence.  His protection.  
     But for the past five days, Adama had instead chosen to go the
logical route.  Considering the needs of the fleet first.  But there
was a looming inescapable fact that still remained hanging in front of
Adama's face -- their dwindling resources.  He never knew where they
would be able to find another fuel source.  He never knew when they
were going to come across a planet that had food and water resources
available to replenish the fleet.  Cadets who had joined to protect the
fleet were at an all time low. Adama knew logically, that he could not
afford to lose three pilots, but especially one with Apollo's training,
skills and expertise.  But still with their very limited resources and
abilities, he was following the most logical course of action. 
     The one thing that Adama was doing was that the fleet was
continuing to follow the coordinates that Apollo's patrol took. 
Scanners had found evidence of the tylium residue trail from the vipers
that led to the star system ahead.  To Adama that was a good sign. 
They might have made it to the planetary system ahead and have a
fighting chance to survive, rather than the alternative - that they
were blown right out of the stars with no hope possible.  But the fleet
was still out of communication range of any of the planets ahead.
     Adama felt fear tighten around his heart like a fist.  This was
his worst nightmare as a father having his own children serve under
him, even though Apollo had always came back to him time and time
again, sometimes overcoming insurmountable odds.  But still this time,
Adama felt in his heart that something was desperately wrong.  He had
felt a coldness out there that he had only felt several other times
before in his life.  Evil was lurking out there and it was an evil that
Adama had encountered before. And now something had happened to his son
and his patrol.  Apollo needed him and Adama desired nothing more than
to find his son and protect him from whatever danger was out there. 
Something...
     Adama's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the hatch of the
dome opening.  Adama did not even have to look to know who it was.
Starbuck, Sheba and Boomer.  He had put them off for five days and now
it looked like they were not going to be put off any longer.  The
Galactica was now within viper range of the planets ahead of them. 
Adama heard the hatch shut with a clang and a whoosh.  He knew that the
three were standing behind him waiting, impatiently for him to
acknowledge their presence.  Well, they were not going to have to wait
very long at all.  
     "Yes, Starbuck?"  Adama finally said., his voice carrying an edge
of weariness mixed with resignation.  Adama knew that now the logical
choice had changed.  Now the logical choice of patience and waiting
were about to be replaced with the choice of action.
     The dark blonde lieutenant slowly walked over to Adama's side.  He
knew that Starbuck was going to push to search for Apollo, and Adama
also knew that the brash lieutenant was at the point of total
disobedience.  If Adama did not give in this time, then Adama knew
Starbuck would disobey any order that Adama gave.  He would steal a
viper and launch.  He would search for the man he considered his best
friend, besides his commanding officer and wingmate.  The closest thing
he had to a brother. 
     Memories trickled across the tired commander's mind.  When Apollo
and Starbuck were students at Caprica City Major, Adama had been leery
about the young boy that Apollo brought home with him one day.  Ila
seemed very taken with orphan child, so Adama kept his worries to
himself.  Several times, Adama received reports from the principal
administrator of the school regarding some infraction of the rules by
Apollo along with Starbuck.  Many times Adama had just chuckled about
the infractions because they had been things that all teenage boys did
at one time or the other.  Even Adama himself as a teenager had been
known to break the rules to have some fun or adventure.  There were
several times though when Adama had not been as tolerant.  But he had
come to find that Starbuck, the wise-cracking, street-wise orphan would
take the total blame for whatever to save his friend from any
punishment from his father.  That dedication had been something that
Adama had felt Starbuck was incapable of feeling.  He had been so sure
that when the chips were way down and trouble loomed that Starbuck
would run, leaving Apollo holding the bag.
     But that never happened and Adama had to admit that he had badly
misjudged the youth.  When those two were cadets at the Caprican
Academy, Adama had wondered time and time again what in the twelve
worlds drew his sometimes over-serious son to the lighthearted, card
playing young man. They were so different, with such different
backgrounds.  Apollo had always known the love and support of a large
family, of having siblings and being able to have the security of two
parents, even though one was away a lot. Starbuck was an orphan whose
birth date was even unknown.  No knowledge of his parents or relatives
existed.  The boy was sent from foster home to foster home, shuffled
from here to there.
     Starbuck lived by his wits and his luck, but over the yahrens
Adama found out, ever since they met, those two had been inseparable. 
Closer than brothers but as different as night and day.  Many people
had questioned the strange mix of those two, even Adama had at one
point.  But after all the countless missions that they had returned
from together which the odds were highly stacked against them
surviving, after everything they had ever went through together, Adama
did nothing to question the bond that held them together.  He just
thanked the lords for it every single day.
     "I want to search for Apollo,"  said Starbuck, a rare serious edge
to his voice.  "We're coming up on the planetary system that he and his
patrol went out to investigate.  We're close enough to know that there
are four planets in the system and that only one can support life. 
Scanners are picking up life signs from that planet and a viper beacon. 
It has to be Apollo and his patrol."
     The hope in Starbuck's voice made Adama turn to face him, so he
could study his eyes.  Apollo always told him that he knew what
Starbuck was really feeling by looking in his eyes.  That Starbuck
could only hide so much behind his facade of nonchalance.  Satisfied
with what he saw, Adama then turned to look at Boomer and Sheba
standing side by side quietly.  
     Sheba took steps to stand in front of Adama.  "Please, let us go
and search for him and his patrol," she said quietly.  Adama looked at
the young woman before him intently, then signed in resignation,
reaching out in the privacy of this chamber to hug Sheba close to him,
as if he was trying to draw strength from this young woman who loved
his son more than any other person, who Apollo loved just as much in
return.  These three people were part of his family.  Fate and Apollo
had brought them into his life and they were his sons and daughter as
much as Apollo and Athena were.  And Adama was past the point of
denying them any longer.
     Adama released Sheba, who tried to smile a weak smile.  Then the
aging commander placed his hands on Starbuck and Boomer's shoulders and
nodded his permission.
     "Go.  Find them.  Find Apollo and bring him and his patrol home."

**********

Back on the Planet of Draco...

     Brannigan looked up as his young foundling came cautiously out of
his young nephew's bedroom.  The tall, dark-haired young man closed the
door behind him, then walked over to the table.  His foundling moved
with a confidence the belied his years, but Brannigan fervently wished
could help him remember his past.  The strange brown clothes that he
was wearing when Brannigan found him were different than anything he
had ever seen in all of his years of traveling Draconia and its
surrounding lands.  He felt for the lad, totally alone and not knowing
who he was.  He was someone's son and the elder knight planned on
keeping his vow to his God.  He would do everything in his power to
help the lad survive.  
     The part about the young man that probably unnerved Brannigan the
most was his eyes - pure crystal green.  Eyes the like he could not
remember ever having seen before.  Most people of Draconia had blue
eyes or dark brown eyes.  Brannigan had felt a shiver go down his spine
when he had peered into those eyes.  There were legends across the
lands that talked about the green-eyed ones that were blessed by God
with special powers and abilities.  Brannigan wondered if the stories
were true since here standing before him was a strange young man with
green eyes.  Maybe he was the savior that would lead them to victory
against Thane?  
     Hope grew in Brannigan's heart that maybe that was so.  He had
prayed to his God so many times over the course of his life, but now
Brannigan was old and his body tired of the battle.  He knew that as a
knight, it was an honor to die in battle serving his King.  And his
king was not the usurper, Thane.  His king was good King Cedric, true
ruler of Draconia.  
     But now, in the twilight of his life, Brannigan grew wearier after
each encounter on the field of battle.  His sword seemed heavier
yesterday than it had a the day before.  His reactions and reflexes
were not as quick anymore.  It would take only one young challenger who
was quick and sure to defeat him on the battlefield.  A challenger who
wanted the glory for killing Sir Brannigan, Knight of the First Realm. 
In all his years of service, Brannigan had never given a thought to his
own safety, his own continued survival.  Only the protection of his
people.  Of his sister and her family.  And of his daughter.  His only
surviving child.  Maybe his Almighty had heard his prayers and this lad
with the green eyes was the help that he had prayed for so fervently. 
On his knees before the great altar. But unfortunately, his joy at the
sight of the lad turned swiftly to concern.
     What concerned Brannigan most was what he had seen in the depths
of those green eyes -- not power or wonder, but confusion and a
hopeless, lost look.  Blankness.  The lad didn't even know his own
name, but that really didn't surprise the warrior who had seen many
battle injuries over the course of his life.  The bump on the head and
the gash had been deep and serious.  The injuries to his back, his
wrists and his leg were just as serious.  In fact the one to his leg
was so severe, that Meghan could not stand the sight of it.  She had to
step outside for a while to compose herself before she felt strong
enough to be able to handle the sight of it.
     Brannigan watched and assisted his sister in her labors.  Mixing
herbs, plants and special waters that his sister had on hand, helping
her dress the wounds with special poultices.  His body's healing power
had surprised them both.  Even the leg that Meghan had thought would
have to be amputated in the end, was healing nicely.  But then there
had been the fact that the stranger was still unconscious.  Had not
stirred even during times when Brannigan thought he would at least moan
or move from the intense pain that he should feel even while
unconscious.  For all her knowledge and skill, Meghan had not been sure
if the stranger would awaken or if he would just silently waste away to
the waiting arms of death.  
     Brannigan had not been surprised when his gentle sister had chided
him about bringing a stranger into her home, especially now at a time
when any stranger in Draconia was looked with distrust, as a possible
servant of King Thane.  But Brannigan had a strong good feeling about
this young fella - he was not a servant of the evil tyrant that had
taken over their lands. He was barely out of his youthful years.  He
barely looked like he was old enough to be far from his parents home. 
Brannigan could tell from speaking with him in the bedroom that the lad
spoke with a well educated mind, which meant that he could be of noble
blood.  A noble would have a good education, his skin and hands would
be soft to the touch like the lad's were.  His were not the hands of a
laborer or even a warrior such as Brannigan himself.  Handling a heavy
blade roughened your hands and strengthened your arms.  He even
wondered if the young man could even handle a sword since he had not
found a weapon on him or at his side.
     Another point that had made Brannigan wonder about this lad and
his origins was the fact of how fast he had healed over the past five
days.  His wrists were nearly totally healed, but the skin was still
red and puckered with small remnants of scabbing left.  His back only
showed the fresh red healing scars of the beating he had endured, and
the leg had healed so well that now the lad was walking on it, limping
heavily, but still walking on it.  Meghan kept a bandage with a light
poultice wrapped around the wound, but he almost did not need that
anymore.  The old knight had never seen someone with such a ability to
heal so quickly.  It was astounding.
     Brannigan wanted to strongly believe that this young lad could be
sent from above to help him, maybe even to replace him in leading the
army of King Cedric.  Their numbers were diminishing as quickly as
their faith and hope in defeating Thane's rabble.  The people needed a
victory very badly to relight their perseverance and they needed the
leadership of someone with greater skills than his.  Especially since
Thane had the continued counsel of the man in white  Brannigan swore
that the enigmatic man was the devil in disguise, so he was fervently
hoping that his devotion to his God, his unerring faith and his prayers
were going to be answered.  They needed all the help they could get.
     "Come, sit down lad."  Brannigan said invitingly.  "My sister is
serving noon meal to her husband and children in the field.  It is
planting time so my brother-in-law toils from the time the sun rises
until it sets, but she left us a nice spread here."
     The dark-haired man moved over to the table and sat down across
from Brannigan,  He looked at the food on the table with wide eyes,
like he had never seen anything like it before.
     "Eat lad.  You need to regain your strength.  We will be leaving
soon and I have to have you strong enough to at least sit astride a
steed."  Brannigan said as he passed his new friend the bread that his
sister had just made that morning.  "Meghan, the dear that she is, will
pack supplies for us so that we can go on."
     "Go?  Where are we going?" asked the young man quietly as he took
the bread offered and placed some of the sliced meat upon it, grateful
that this man was willing to take him with him.  A stranger that he
knew nothing about.  A stranger that didn't even know himself.
     "The war is going badly for King Cedric.  Since Thane stole the
throne from him, the King has had to deal with the fear the people feel
for Thane.  They fear the torture that Thane will do to their families
if they are caught helping their true King.  But I am a Knight of the
First Realm, sworn to serve my true king with my life if need be.  So
we are heading to Upper Draconia to so that I may fight for my sire at
his side."
     The young man looked pointedly at Brannigan.  "But you don't even
know who I am.  You know nothing about me.  You don't even know if I
can fight or if I am even from this land."
     "You're not evil, lad.  I can see that with me own eyes for you're
a special one, that ya are.  An answer to my prayers and sent to us
from the Gods above to help us."  Brannigan said softly, with
conviction.  "If you canna handle a blade, then I will be your teacher. 
Pay it no mind that you can not remember who you are.  It should come
back to you in time.  You were badly injured, so this was something
that my sister and I expected.  As for a name, I have one for you that
you can use. Crisdean."
      "Crisdean." The young man replied.  "I like it."
      "So do I.  It was my son's name and a fine lad he was too."
     The newly christened Crisdean looked up curiously from his plate.
"Was?"
     Brannigan looked Crisdean in the eye.  Crisdean could see the deep
sorrow in the depths of his new friend's eyes .  "My boy is dead.  Has
been for a long time.  So is his mother, my wife Maggie.  Crisdean was
all of 11 years old.  Just a boy."  Brannigan hastily took another bite
of his food to hide his sorrow.
     "I'm sorry to hear that, Brannigan," replied Crisdean softly,
sincerity in his voice.  
     Brannigan took a ragged deep breath, trying to pull himself
together.  "It's all right, lad.  It was a very long time ago, but I do
still miss them."
     Brannigan finished his food then pushed his plate way, getting up
from the table and gathering his sword and its sheath.  "As soon as
you're finished with your meal, we'll see just how well you can sit a
steed.  Then we'll see how well you can handle a blade.  King Cedric
can use all the warriors he can get to regain his colony."  With that
Brannigan headed out the door.
     Crisdean looked up from his plate, staring at the retreating back
of Brannigan. With the slam of the front door, images flashed across
his mind with the speed of a wind storm.  Warrior.  Colony.  A fleeting
vivid image came to Crisdean's mind of fire, death and destruction. 
People running, screaming.  Voices crying, a forceful man showing
commands from a raised podium wearing a dark uniform, people running to
do the man's bidding, a dark blond man saying, "We're colonial warriors
aren't we?" and explosions all around him.  Fire, death, destruction.  
     The image of a large body of water came flashing through his mind
along with the image of an older blonde-haired woman looking up and
smiling happily.  Another image flashed of two people, a young woman
and a young man.  Both with dark hair, both dressed in clothes Crisdean
had never seen before.  They were laughing and smiling.  The images
faded as quickly as they came, leaving Crisdean in a cold sweat and
unreasonably frightened. What did it all mean?  Who were those people? 
What had happened to him? 
     Where in the name of heaven was he from?
     Suddenly, he didn't feel hungry anymore as he pushed his plate
back, sighing a deep sigh as he tried to make sense of what just
happened to him.  The images of death and destruction.  Of places that
looked nothing like where he was at, or rather did not look like what
he saw out the bedroom window earlier.  The man on the platform,
issuing order with others obeying his words.  The place looked so
unfamiliar to him.  Those images he saw in his mind created a fear in
him, but why?
     He could not remember his own name, or where he came from.  If he
had any family or a place to call home.  Maybe he had no home to go to
because it was destroyed.  Brannigan did mention that there was a war
going on.  A battle between 2 kings for the same colony.  Maybe that
explains what he saw in his mind.  Memories that he would rather
forget.  But Crisdean did know one thing from the images - he was a
warrior, just like Brannigan.  He fought to defend where ever he came
from.  With that knowledge, he would repay the kindness of his new
friend by helping him defend his home from its aggressors.
     Even if it cost him his life.

*******

And on the eighth day...

     Even as a cloud of worry and concern hung over the heart of the
great battlestar, the bridge of the Galactica was humming with
activity. Reports and readings were made and recorded, information was
passed to the appropriate people for further action.  Everything that
needed to be done was being done.  At her station to the right of the
command podium, Athena hunched over her console, listening for anything
that may come across any of her communication bands.  Any sign that her
brother and his patrol was out there somewhere -- alive.  Frustration,
coupled with intense worry clouded Athena's thoughts as she tried yet
another band, hoping beyond hope that she would hear the familiar sound
of her older brother's voice.  
     But there was nothing but static.  As she changed bands and
frequencies, she could hear the communications between ships within the
fleet, all normal, but that was not what she wanted to hear at all. 
Trying another band, she heard the communications between the patrols
that were out there, maintaining watch for any danger to the fleet of
defenseless ships that the Galactica had under her protection.  Athena
felt her frustration building to the point that she wanted to either
pond her fist against the console, or scream out her anger.  She hated
being cooped up here on the bridge.  She wanted to be out there with
the others -- searching.  She wanted to be a pilot, like her brother
and their friends.  She felt so useless sitting on the bridge,
monitoring communication frequencies, when she was a fully trained
warrior.  A viper pilot, like her brothers and their father and
grandfather before them.  
     Athena thought fleetingly of Zac and wished with all her heart
that her younger brother were here at the moment.  She knew that he
would be out there, searching for Apollo, not giving up until he found
something.  In as much as Athena and Zac had complained vigorously
about how overprotective Apollo was of them as they grew up on Caprica,
then when they all attended the Academy, and then again when all three
came to serve on the Galactica with their father, Athena knew that both
she and Zac were just as over protective, just as defensive of Apollo,
and that was where she felt she should be at this micron.  Out there
searching for Apollo.  Hoping and praying that he was still alive.  
     Hope.  Athena tried another frequency and listened intently as her
thoughts whirled around in her mind.  Hope.  That was something that
she felt had died in her when the colonies were destroyed.  Hope.  That
was something that Apollo had when Serina was alive and in his life. 
Hope that died with her as far as he was concerned.  Athena had watched
her brother sink into a depression the likes she had never seen before
from her older brother.  She had worried and fretted, crying sometimes
in the middle of the night for Apollo.  Not the cry of pity or
sympathy, but of worry and concern.  Out of the love that she felt for
him.  
     Then, a miracle happened.  At least it was a miracle to Athena.
Apollo's attitude changed, everything changed when they met up with the
Pegasus and Apollo met his match in the form of Sheba.  Slowly Athena
watched hope come back to her brother along with a renewed belief in
his faith, something that had taken a beating with the deaths of Zac,
their mother and then Serina.  Just as hers had.  Athena watched with
growing interest as Apollo started to slowly heal, showing again the
side of her brother that she had grown up with.  Sheba argued with
Apollo, fought with him, talked to him and laughed with him.  Slowly
the young woman had became his friend - someone he could trust. 
Someone who he could turn to.  Someone who he could fall in love with. 

     Even though she was happy for her brother's good fortune, the same
hope didn't return to Athena as it had to Apollo.  Unlike her older
brother, Athena had seen Zac die.  She had heard his cries as death
swooped down and took his life from him.  Athena had hoped and prayed
that his death had been instantaneous -- that he had not felt the
fire's searing pain on his tender flesh.  She had been denied a trip
down with her brother and father to their home on Caprica, because of
her father's decree.  It had taken Athena going to Apollo and begging
him to let her go with him down to the wreckage of their childhood
home.  Apollo's pained expression hand told Athena that he was
desperately trying to protect her from whatever was down there, but she
did not want that protection.  She wanted to find their mother.  She
wanted closure - to know if their mother was still alive or if she was
gone too.  
     Apollo had let her accompany him and what they had found brought
no more sense of closure to either of them than they had before the
trip down to the planet.  They had sifted through the ruins finding
their mother's personal possessions.  Loading the shuttle that Apollo
had brought with what they had wanted to salvage.  Mementos of their
respective childhood's.  Remembrances of Zac.  Athena had found the
holopics that her mother had carefully kept over the course of the
siblings lives -- unscathed.  Apollo's keyboard.  Athena's collection
of books.  Some clothes.  Some family heirlooms.  Some items of their
mother's  Athena had about cried when she had found their mother's
jewelry box containing her promise ring from their father.  Athena had
secretly packed their mother's sealing gown into the shuttle, wanting
to save it for her own sealing day, or for her or her brother's
children to have as a family heirloom. 
     Athena knew that all their lives would change because of the
destruction but she did not foresee how dramatically.  Where Apollo had
found love with Serina, Athena had lost her love, Starbuck.  Hope,
faith, and then her belief in love eternal.  All were in tatters with
Athena.  It had taken time, patience and her brother's anger to bring
Athena out of the world that she had secluded herself into.  Apollo
found love again with Sheba and with that event, Athena had opened her
own eyes and her heart again.  Over the past yahren, she had dated
several men, enjoyed relationships that were fun while they lasted. 
Athena finally admitted to herself that she was over her obsession with
Starbuck and hopeful that out there, somewhere there was a man that she
could love the rest of her life. 
     But now Athena wondered if her life was again about to be tossed
into turmoil just as it was coming full circle.  She could not see
herself without the company of Apollo.  She could not see herself as
the only surviving child of Adama.  She could not envision her brother
dead.  Not when he had everything going his way.  Not now when he was
so happy in his life.  Not now!!! 
     Athena reached up, roughly pushing her thick dark hair out of the
way as she glanced over at her father studying the star maps that scans
had given them of the planetary system ahead.  Four planets and one
sun.  Athena knew her father had studied for centons on end the long
range scans of the habitable planet from which they had been receiving
the viper homing beacon, as if Adama could glean from that report that
her brother was alive.  But it was the report itself had worried
Athena, even though she had not voiced her worries to her father.  She
did not want to be the one to take away the last shred of hope that he
had regarding Apollo.
     But to her, the report was not encouraging.  No signs of
industrial development, no signs of planetary defense systems.  No
communications.  The only note that had lifted Athena even slightly was
that the planet was inhabited.  Humans lived there.  Hopefully there
was a civilization down there that could help Apollo if he needed it. 
That could take care of him if he needed medical care.  At least until
they could get to him.  Down there, some where on that planet, was her
brother.  The beacon was all that she had to latch onto to give life to
the hope that she held so fragile in her heart.  Possibly he was
injured.  That was almost a given that Apollo was hurt.  Hopefully,
though he was still alive.
     Athena did not want to even envision any other scenario in her
mind. 
     Apollo was alive down there!  He had to be.  There was no other
way for this situation to turn out.  Her older brother, the one that
she depended on so much had to be alive.  Athena knew that if Apollo
was gone, a large part of their father would go with him.  Just as she
knew a large part of her would go with him too, as it had when Zac
died.  Athena knew that Adama and Apollo shared a special bond, even
though Athena also knew that Adama loved each of his children with all
of his heart.  She was over the feelings of jealousy that she use to
have when she first came to the Galactica after graduating from the
Academy.
     Memories flooded her again as she thought back to their childhood.
Athena and Apollo were only 2 yahrens apart in age, but their mother
had always called them the twins - for where ever you found one, the
other was not far behind.  As they grew older, there were times when
Apollo would try to escape from her so that he could do things with his
friends or by himself, but generally whatever trouble or mischief they
would get into, it was together.  Apollo knew things about Athena that
no one knew and she knew things about him that not even Starbuck, Sheba
or Boomer knew.  That was what siblings were - each other's best
friend.  They stood by each other, worried about each other, protected
each other.  Zac was 6 yahrens younger than Apollo and 4 yahrens
younger than herself and as Zac grew they had included him in their
adventures.  But the bond between Apollo and Zac and Athena and Zac was
very different than the one between her and Apollo.
     Athena's memories shifted again as she remembered how she and Zac
had both gone to the seashore and cried the day Apollo left for the
Academy. They felt that this change in their relationship with their
older brother was something that was insurmountable.  That nothing
would ever be the same with him again and they didn't want that to
happen.  For a secton, she and Zac would sneak into Apollo's room and
sleep there, feeling comforted by just being in his room, surrounded by
his familiar belongings.  When he had came home that first time on
leave, Athena and Zac had stuck by him, afraid of any changes that were
made to him by being at the academy.  But the changes that were there
did not affect their relationship.  
     He was still Apollo.  The brother she loved and sometimes hated,
especially when he was being overprotective of her, but there were many
times when she was overprotective of him.  After the holocaust, she
found herself very angry with him - angry about everything that
happened and everything that they lost.  Sadness started to overwhelm
her just as the memories were, as she choked back the tears sitting
there at her station. Zac was dead, their mother was dead.  Now Apollo
might be dead.  Death. That's all there was to life.  Just death.  And
it seemed to be striking her family with too much frequency.  She
wished it would just stop and that this depression that was coming over
her again would go away for good.  She gave a mirthless laugh.  What a
fantasy that would be - no more death, no more sadness, no more
depression.
     Athena pulled herself together.  Her brother would be ashamed of
her to see her acting like this.  She felt a twinge of shame herself at
her thoughts.  She should be thinking positive for Apollo _was_ alive. 
She knew that in her heart.  And she would find him.  
     These were the times that she wished she still flew with the
squadrons, that she had argued harder with her father and with Apollo
about her remaining a warrior.  If Apollo had been on her side, they
could have won over their father. But Apollo was admittedly more
against her warrior status than their father and she knew why.  He had
told her why.  It had taken her a while, and quite a bit of vintage
ambrosia to pry it out of him, but she finally found out the real
reason why.  He was scared to death of losing her - his sister. 
Frightened beyond explanation.  But now she was the one frightened. 
She was the one who wanted to scream in anger and frustration.  She was
the one who wanted to be with Starbuck, Sheba and Boomer as they went
after her brother.  It was her right.  
     Athena put on a stoic face as she turned at the sound of footsteps
on the bridge.  Starbuck, Sheba and Boomer solemnly walked over to
Adama, concern written on all three of their faces.  Athena carefully
got up from her console, walking over to mutely listen to their report.
     Adama gave the three a inquiring glance then turned his attention
back at the star chart.  
     "What did you find?"  Adama kept his voice unemotional, his eyes
on the star chart in front of him.  He wanted this report, but he did
not want to hear it just the same.  He had waited for it with emotions
that he could not explain, and fought every micron to keep under strict
control.  He wanted them to tell him that his son was alive and well. 
That he was now back on the Galactica under Cassiopeia's care just for
observation.  But he knew better.  He had been in the military too long
and seen too much happen in his lifetime to be that naive.  
     But the expressions of the three people standing before him
reached into his heart and started ripping it to shreds.  Apollo was
gone.  Their faces held no hope.  No glimmer of anything.  It was over 
Apollo was gone. His son - his first born and only remaining son - was
gone.  Control.  He had to maintain control.  He had to get a grip on
his emotions.  His crew was watching.  His bridge crew.  Tigh who had
served with him most of his career, was standing not that far away on
the command podium, his concern for both his friend as well as his
commander was clearly in his dark eyes. Then Adama caught sight of her
out of the corner of his eye -- Athena.  She was standing there
listening too.  Her face was not hiding her emotions.  Hers were there
for all to see if they wanted.  
     Control.  Adama sighed.  He had to maintain control.  He stared at
the star chart waiting for Starbuck to speak.  
     And finally Starbuck did.
     "Commander, we scanned the habitable planet and found it to be in
a very primitive stage of development - no technology of any kind.  We
did find Apollo's viper patrol.  I took a chance, landing on the planet
where his beacon was originating from and found Ensigns Talmar and
Corrine dead in what was left of their vipers."
     Adama drew in his breath and held it preparing for Starbuck's next
words.  "And Apollo?"
     "He was not in his viper, Commander."  Boomer said, taking over
the report, since he knew how tedious Starbuck's hold was on his
emotions.  This report was not helping at all.  Nor was it doing
anything for Boomer's own emotional state.  
     Adama expelled his breath, trying to now get his pounding heart
under control.  Hope.  There was hope...  
     "We know that he's hurt by the blood Starbuck found at the crash
site.  We surmise that after the crash, he left his viper to try to
find help.  Although honestly, we're not sure how much help he'll find
on that planet." Boomer looked steadily at Adama, but he felt himself
fidgeting as he stood there.  
     "You didn't go look for him?"  Adama turned to them surprised at
that point.  These were his son's friends.  They professed to love and
care about Apollo.  Sheba.  Sheba professed to love Apollo and she did
not go searching for him?  They left him there?  Adama tried to hold on
to his emotions.  He was over stressed by the situation.  He had not
slept well in days.  He was not himself and he wrestled to maintain
control, regretting his thoughts.  
     Sheba shook her head, her voice sounding strained to Adama's ears. 
"We decided to come back to the Galactica and get appropriate clothing
before we go back and search."
     "Why?"
     "The planet is pretty primitive, Commander.  It looks like the
feudal days of Leo colony over 4 millennia ago.  Equines as
transportation,  fields plowed by hand, warriors that fight with swords
instead of lasers.  We figured that we would get a med tech and go back
down, trying to be inconspicuous as we can." replied Boomer rationally. 

     Adama stood there quietly, thinking about the observations and
reasoning by the three pilots.  He knew that they were as anxious to
find Apollo as he was.  He knew in his heart that they were wanting to
proceed in a way that would bring little risk to them and inevitably to
Apollo.  There was no telling how badly injured his son was, where he
was or what dangers he faced on that world.  Adama had to fully agree
with his warrior's logic. 
     "Sounds reasonable.  Our appearance with our technology could
cause more problems than we need at this micron,"  Adama replied
thoughtfully, his hand stroking his chin as he stood there not feeling
as helpless as he did a few microns ago.  He looked over at Starbuck. 
"Have you requested what you need from Central Stores?"
     "Yes sir.  We're taking down a shuttle," replied Starbuck.  "A
nice, quiet entrance so not to stir up the natives."
     "And your med tech will be Cassiopeia, I would assume."
     For the first time since Apollo's disappearance, Adama noted a
hint of a smile on playing on Starbuck's lips.  
     "Won't leave home without her.  Although if we even tried to take
another med tech down there, she would probably be sitting in the
shuttle anyway after doing away with the other med tech.  No way would
she tolerate staying up here with Apollo hurt down there." replied
Starbuck, some seriousness coming back to his voice.
     "Father," Athena interrupted, four sets of eyes turned towards
her. "I request permission to go on the rescue mission."
     "Athena..."  Adama began.
     Athena interrupted her father, stepping forward, the pain she felt
clearly in her voice.  "We know that Apollo is down there and is hurt. 
We don't know what we are going to find.  I feel that I _have_ to go
down there and help search for him.  I need to go.  Its not like this
is a combat mission.  This is a search and rescue mission.  And I do
have the training needed."  Athena said, an unspoken plea in her voice
to her father.  She then looked at Starbuck, who thought for a micron,
then slowly nodded that it was okay with him.
     Adama looked at his daughter, then to Starbuck, who turned to
Adama, nodding to the Commander his consent. 
     "All right."  Adama replied reluctantly, since he had no
reasonable or  logical argument to voice against Athena's request.  In
his heart, he knew how she felt at that micron and wished with all of
his heart he could go with them.  "Starbuck is in command of this
mission."
     "Thank you." Athena smiled thankfully at her father, relief on her
face.  
     Adama turned back to Starbuck.  "I am slowing the fleet to give
you some time.  We will be out of shuttle range in a secton.  Hopefully
you will be back long before that."
     Starbuck nodded and gave his Commander his most confident
expression.  "All of us, sir."  Starbuck was rewarded by something that
looked like a smile from Adama.  The brash lieutenant then turned
smartly and left the bridge with Sheba, Athena and Boomer at his heels.

*********

A new life, a new journey...

     The sun was growing increasingly warmer as the two riders
continued on the dry dusty dirt road towards the town that Brannigan
had assured Crisdean was not too far in the distance now.  Dust rose
from the heaviness of the horse's hoofs which swirled through the air,
causing Crisdean to wish that they would reach the town soon so that he
could get a drink of something cold to relieve the dryness of his
mouth.  He looked at the scenery around him and reveled in the beauty
of it all.  The height of some of the trees was just astounding since
they seemed to Crisdean to go  on forever to the heavens.  The green
grass was inviting him to come and lay down in the cool sweetness of it
which he was sorely tempted to do.  It had been so long since he had
done anything like that...
     Crisdean looked shocked at that thought.  How long had it been
since he had enjoyed the simple pleasures of life?  Lying in the sweet
smelling grass.  Enjoying the bright light and warmth of the sun.  How
long had it been since he enjoyed the simple pleasure of swimming in a
lake or pond?  Even an ocean?  Crisdean felt a cold chill creep down
his spine at that silent question.  An ocean.  A sea.  For some reason,
he knew what that was.  He had been to one.  Lived by one.  But when? 
And for that matter, where?  He would have to remember to ask Brannigan
where there was an ocean around here.  Maybe that was a clue to his
identity.  One he should follow up on.  
     Crisdean glanced over at the elderly knight at his side.  He had
to admit that he was grateful for the companionship that Brannigan
provided and the security that he presented in a very insecure, let
alone uncertain time for him.  The older man gave him an identity until
he found his own and was kind enough to take Crisdean along with him on
his journey.  A total stranger but especially a person in his
circumstances, besides the condition he was in physically when he was
found.  He was not sure that he would have done the same for someone in
the same set of circumstances.  Life here seemed to be in turmoil and a
stranger, even a wounded one, a danger that one could ill afford. 
Crisdean himself still found it incredible that he had healed so
quickly from his extensive injuries, let alone the fact that he was
still alive.  Crisdean just wish he could remember something about who
he was.  Or what he was.  
     The flash of memory that he had back at Meghan's farm was
inconclusive.  Visions of places and things that he did not know. 
Faces that were as unfamiliar to him as they were familiar.  He could
not ignore the feelings that he felt as he tried to remember the faces
that he had seen in the flashes.  Feelings of trust.  Feelings of
loyalty.  Feelings of love.  But he also felt empty as he tried to
remember more.  Things like their names and where these people fit into
his life.  The fact that what he saw did not look anything like this
place he was in right now made Crisdean wonder if they were nothing
more that his imaginations fancy.  Something that was not a memory at
all, but his imagination playing tricks on him.
     All Crisdean wanted was to know who he was and where he was from,
but for some reason he felt a twinge of fear at the thought of finding
out his true identity.  Like it was a danger to him to know who he was. 
Crisdean pushed that thought aside as foolish as he shifted his
position in the saddle, finding that his body was protesting in ways
that were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.  It was like he
had not ridden in a long time, but at least they had found out that he
could ride.  That made the journey easier to proceed on.
     But the other thing that they found out was that a swordsman
Crisdean was definitely not!  He found the large weapon heavy and
clumsy as he tried to weld it around as Brannigan showed him to do.  A
couple of times the weight of the sword had pulled him off his feet
onto the ground and he just had to join in as Brannigan had laughed
heartily at his friend's attempts to use the instrument.  Then
Brannigan had taken it upon himself to begin to teach Crisdean the
basics of sword fighting in hopes of keeping him alive.
     The young man wondered how he had managed to live this long if he
could not even defend himself especially in such a seemingly hostile
land.  A land a war within itself.  He had posed the question to the
older man who had just shrugged then replied that possibly he was a
noble who had been protected by his own army of men during his life. 
But now Crisdean was on his own and had to learn to protect himself,
not wanting to depend on Brannigan for his protection and defense.  So
he had been listening as his friend imparted on him the vast years of
training and combat experience.  Brannigan had seemed quite pleased at
what a quick study Crisdean was.  Crisdean himself hoped that he did
not have to use his newly acquired skills anytime soon.  He did not
know if he was ready to meet an aggressor in combat since Crisdean
doubted his own meager defensive skills, besides the fact that he still
seemed to tire easily.  
     Since they left Meghan's home two days ago previous, they had
stopped often to rest since Brannigan knew without being told that
Crisdean was not up to his full strength yet.  He seemed to sense when
the young man was to the point of collapse, so the elder knight would
make up excuses for stopping.  Every time they rested, the older man
took the time to give the younger one another lesson in how to fight
with a blade.  Other times, Brannigan would impart to him stories of
the days before Thane took the colony away from King Cedric.  But the
times that Crisdean seemed to dread the most were the time of quiet,
just as he would try to lay down for a good nights rest when Crisdean
found himself trying to sort out the images that had flashed across his
mind while at Meghan's.  He still didn't know what to  make of it all. 
And that frightened him more than facing a challenger in battle.  
     But what had Crisdean was frightened of more than his memories
were the times when older man told him stories of the Enchanted One who
came from the stars, possessing powers that were deemed impossible to
even imagine.  The one that Brannigan angrily claimed had made it
possible for Thane to take over Draconia without a fight from the
people or the armies of King Cedric.  Once the evil one had shown the
people of Draconia his mighty powers, they had willing submitted to
Thane's will without so much as an angry word.  Brannigan had said that
the evil one had seemed like a god to the good people of Draconia and
it was that image of immense power that Brannigan feared held the
people in loyalty to Thane than to Cedric.  And never did the usurper
ever come amongst the people without the glowing one close at hand. 
Crisdean shuddered at the remembrance of the story.
     "Crisdean, lad.  Are you with me back there?"  Brannigan shouted
out jovially.  Crisdean wanly smiled at the back of the man who acted
more like Crisdean was his own son instead of just some nameless
stranger he found wandering in the woods, severely injured no less. 
"We are almost to Belgrande, lad!  We'll hopefully be meeting Shanea
here, that is if she has arrived as she promised." 
     Crisdean spurred his horse forward to catch up to Brannigan.  "Who
is Shanea?"  Crisdean asked curiously as he caught up to Brannigan and
reined his horse in to keep pace with Brannigan.  .
     "My daughter. I arranged several weeks ago to meet up with her
here in Belgrande, then from here, we'll head to Upper Draconia
together."
     Crisdean and Brannigan rode in companionable silence for several
minutes, then Crisdean asked the question that had bothered him for a
while.
     "Brannigan,"  Crisdean ventured tentatively,  "do you think that I
am really going to be of any help in the war against King Thane when I
cannot even use a sword?"
     "My boy, you have to have faith in yourself."  Brannigan replied
evenly, reassuringly.  "You are a good student.  You have caught on
fast and your speed and skills is growing, increasing."
     "But I'm not ready to meet a challenger on the field of battle." 
Crisdean said worriedly.  "I am more of a liability than an asset to
you.  I could get you or even someone else injured or killed."
     "You must have faith in yourself, son.  Faith is the key in all
things that we need or desire.  You build on that faith every day for
it is not something that will happen overnight."  Brannigan chuckled to
himself.  "Even the great city of Kobollia was not built in a day!"
     "Kobollia?"  Crisdean stopped his horse suddenly, looking at
Brannigan strangely.
     "Yes, a great fabled city in the west."  Brannigan reined his
horse and turned to look at Crisdean, curious about his reaction. 
Maybe it was just nothing, but the boy seemed a little pale.  Paler
than a few minutes ago.  The red tint to his cheeks had disappeared,
which bothered Brannigan.  Maybe he was pushing the lad a bit too fast. 
"Outside Draconia's borders.  It was a huge city that was far ahead of
its time.  It was destroyed by a great catastrophe many centuries ago."
     Without warning, another image crossed across Crisdean's mind at
light speed.  Structures made out of sand and rock, in the 4-sided
shaped of a pyramid.  A tomb of a long dead man laid before him while a
woman with long brown hair wearing strange clothing stared at the
remains contained within.  A man with a dark clothes and silvery white
hair was back, but his face was undistinguishable to Crisdean. But it
was a face that Crisdean knew very well.  He just could not make it
out.  Stark images of the woman as she laid dying in his arms with
fires burning all around them made his heart race faster.  Crisdean
became frightened at the images that flashed across his mind.  He felt
pain and grief at the death of the woman dressed in man's clothing.  A
silver metal object flashed from the older man's clothes.  A symbol
that the older man fervently believed in.  And so did Crisdean, just as
he believed deeply in the man that wore it.  Again, just as quickly as
they appeared, they were gone and Crisdean found himself sweating
profusely again..
     What did they all mean?  What was happening to him?  Crisdean knew
this time for sure, that these were his memories.  His past.  He was
the one holding the woman when she was hurt, he was the one who felt
pain in his heart for her.  Crisdean didn't understand any of it but he
also didn't want to tell Brannigan any of it because if it frightened
Crisdean, how would his friend react?

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

     The man in the dark clothes  This was the second time he had
appeared to Crisdean.  Who was he?  And where was he?  Nothing in the
images made sense to him.  Nothing that he was remembering looked
anything like Draconia, or rather what he had seen of Draconia.  And
the man...Crisdean felt that this person was important to him -- that
he even loved the man, respected him greatly.  This man was very
important to him, but who was he?  Where was he?  Was he looking for
him?  Did he have the answers that Crisdean needed so desperately?
     Brannigan looked at his young charge, even more concerned than he
was a few minutes ago.  Suddenly it seemed like Crisdean was lost -
lost in his own thoughts.  In his own mind.  And Brannigan was not at
all sure he liked what he saw on the lad's face.  Fear, pain, a
tortured look.  His eyes wild, then sad.  The rigid stance that
Crisdean took on as he struggled with whatever was happening to him. 
Just as suddenly as it started, it seemed to Brannigan that whatever
was happening to the lad was ending.  His shoulders visibly sagged and
a weary looked came across his features.  Perspiration that was not
from the heat of the sun appeared on the lad's face.  Brannigan knew
that he had to get his young charge to town so that he could rest. 
Maybe they would stay the evening after all.  
     Wordlessly Brannigan turned his horse in the direction of
Belgrande.  He listened for the sound of Crisdean's horse following him
and was rewarded a few moments later by the sound of the horse's hoofs
on the hardened dirt road.  Crisdean looked up and focused on the small
town that they were coming up to.  It looked small and quiet.  The
people were out and about doing what they had to do.  As they entered
the outer limits of the town, Crisdean could hear the voices of people
talking, the screaming and yelling of children at play.  The noises of
people working.  Pounding, clanging, screeching, slamming.  All noises
that indicated life and living.  
     Crisdean urged his horse to a trot as he came wordlessly up behind
Brannigan, staying close to his friend  till they reached the town
tavern.  Brannigan stopped in front of the old looking wooden
structure, dismounting his horse as Crisdean did the same.  The quiet
stranger brushed his longish dark hair out of his eyes as he looked up
at the tavern's name - The Lyon's Pub.  Nothing about it seemed
familiar to him, but as he looked at the drawing of the lion, something
started going off in his mind.  He had seen that drawing before. 
Somewhere.  
     Crisdean stood there in still silence, staring intently at the
lion drawing.  Where had he seen that before?  Suddenly it flashed
before him.  A flag waving in the breeze on a tall building.  An
important building.  Someplace he had been before.  Suddenly he saw the
flag again, held this time by a young child dressed in strange clothes. 
The white haired man of Crisdean's other visions was there again, only
this time he wore a cape that matched the dark attire.  Silver material
lined the cape, and the man was standing there looking respectfully at
the flag, which was one of many.  Crisdean looked away from the sign
and just stood there, trying to make sense of all that he was seeing.  
     "This is where we are to meet my daughter, lad."  Brannigan said
quietly as he tied up his horse to the rail outside the pub.  He had
noticed the lad staring at the sign, but said nothing.  Maybe the boy
was remembering his past.  For Crisdean's own sake, Brannigan hoped
that was true. and opened the door to the pub, with Crisdean not far
behind, abet slowly.
     Brannigan stopped at the entrance as he searched the patrons for
the person that he sought.  Upon finding her in the back corner of the
room, he touched Crisdean's arm lightly and said, "Well, she's early
for a change."  Brannigan glanced at Crisdean and inclined his head in
the direction of his quarry.  "There she be, son," he said softly as
the older man led the way over to where an attractive dark-haired woman
sat quietly, toying with the glass that she held.  As the young woman
looked up, her face lit in a smiled and she rose from the table to hug
Brannigan.
     "Father!" she greeted him happily.  "I was beginning to get
worried."
     "No need, child.  Besides the fact that you're actually a bit
early.  Not something that I ever expect out of you.""  Brannigan said,
smiling affectionately at his only daughter.  "Child, I picked up a
companion for our journey on the way here to meet you."  Brannigan
watched as concern clouded his only daughter's eyes, but he understood
fully her attitude.  Cautiously Shanea looked past her father to the
dark haired young man that stood behind him.  As her father stood back,
Shanea's eyes swept over the stranger, taking in every detail that she
could.  Trust was not something that came easily to her, as well as
much of the populace of Draconia.  
     Shanea could see that the young man before her was very handsome
and the fact that that thought came to her mind first was disconcerting
to her.  She knew from experience that you could not judge a person on
looks alone.  But she felt an attraction to him that she had not felt
in a very long time.  Not since the betrayal of another.  The one who
put Shanea on her guard.  As she pushed back those feelings, she noted
that the young man seemed to be recovering from injuries.  Just where
he got those injuries interested her more than she could voice right at
that moment.  Had he gotten them from soldiers of Thane?  Or from
bandits who patrolled the roads for unsuspecting strangers? 
     Shanea looked at her father and saw that he was bothered by her
suspicion of his young friend.  She could see in his expressive eyes
that her father really liked the young man in front of her.  That he
had extended a hand of friendship to this person.  But Shanea was not
sure if she could trust her father's judgement at this point.  She had
been concerned about the older man since the last battle in Lower
Pacato.  He had seemed to be reflecting more on the past than usual,
talking about her mother and her little brother, Crisdean.  Subjects
that he had avoided since their deaths, but now he was speaking of
them.  Why?  
     Shanea could see something in the young man that may have lowered
the older man's defenses.  Her suspicions were confirmed with her
father's next words.
     "Shanea, this is my young friend, Crisdean.  Crisdean, this
beautiful creature is my daughter Shanea."
     "Hello Crisdean." Shanea replied guardedly, her blue eyes taking
in everything she could.  That confirmed what she was thinking.  Yes,
she could see the resemblance between this man and her younger brother,
if he had had the chance to grow up and become the man that was his
destiny.  But wasn't it just so strange that this man resembled her
brother and just happened to have the same name?  Shanea did not like
the feeling that she was experiencing in the pit of her stomach.  Then
she noticed something else that annoyed her -- the fact that for some
reason, this Crisdean was staring at her, seemingly dumbfounded.  What
had her father gotten himself mixed up with?  
     "Hello." Crisdean replied quietly, finding himself staring at the
vision in front of him.  Why did she look so familiar?  He couldn't put
his finger on it.  It was like he had met her before, but her name
wasn't Shanea.  Crisdean could not shake a cold feeling that came over
him.  Like a warning of some kind.  Crisdean closed his eyes and tried
to erase these troubling thoughts from his mind.  He did not even know
these people.  What was wrong with him?
     "So Crisdean," asked Shanea, as she sat back down at the wooden
table.  Brannigan sat down beside her and Crisdean slowly walked over
to the other side, sitting down.  "Where are you from?  And how did you
meet my father?" 
     Before Crisdean had a chance to answer, Brannigan interrupted. 
"Ah Shanea, can I have a word with ya privately, child?"
     Shanea looked at her father with irritation that he was stopping
her from finding out what she wanted to know, but nodded as she rose
and followed him.  They stood in the far corner of the pub out of ear
shot of the young stranger.  Brannigan spoke softly. 
     "Ah, daughter, there is a rather _long_ story behind Crisdean's
appearance."
     Shanea looked at her father enquiringly.  "And that story is?"
     Brannigan looked a bit sheepish, knowing how his daughter felt
about strangers and trusting them.  He knew that she was going to be
upset with him, and she had a right to be, he guessed. 
     "Well, daughter, I found the lad wandering in the woods over 9
days ago.  He was pretty badly injured and it took everything your Aunt
Meghan knew to save his life.  He woke with no idea where he's from,
not idea even as to what his name is."
     Shanea looked at her father rebukefully as she turned and looked
back at the stranger.  
     "Father, you of all people know better than to trust a stranger!!! 
At one time, there would have not been a second thought about helping
someone who was in need.  But Father, with Thane and the Enchanted One
out there with their bag of tricks, you have taken an unnecessary
risk."  
     "Daughter, he was in serious need of help.  He would have died out
there alone if I had not found him."  Brannigan looked imploringly at
his only daughter.  "Would you have me ignore him and let him die out
there?  Alone?"
     Shanea looked at her father, then sighed and shook her head.  She
knew him too well.  "So you gave this man an identity."  
     "Yes."  Brannigan said, letting go of the breath that he did not
realize he had been holding.  "Now I have a favor to ask of you, child. 
I want you to watch over him.  Help guide him.  He's like a babe in the
woods.  Alone and frightened even though he tries not to show it."
     "You don't seem too concerned with any possibilities that he may
be a minion of Thane, father,"  queried Shanea as she spoke quietly to
her father.
     "I usually go with my instinct, daughter.  This lad is not a
minion of Thane.  He is not the least bit evil, as Thane is.  In fact,
I believe he has a great destiny."  Brannigan stared intently at his
daughter, his only surviving child.  "He is someone's son, someone's
brother, someone's friend.  He had a life before he came to be with us. 
Someone has tortured him terribly for he has bad scars on his wrists
and on other places of his body.  I don't claim to know what his
destiny is, but my instinct tells me that he is worthy of my
protection."
     Shanea sighed, grudgingly understanding her father's reasoning. 
It was sound.  "Well, father, I learned a long time ago to go with your
instinct.  It's usually right." replied Shanea.  She turned, her eyes
looking over the man that her father named Crisdean, carefully.  She
was usually a person who took everything with suspicion, but as she
looked over the man more intently as he sat there staring at the drink
in front of him, she kind of sensed an innocence about him.  He seemed
perfectly normal, quiet, curious as he started to look around the pub
like he had never seen one before.  He was... different though, and
Shanea also was more than a little concerned about her father's seeming
attachment to the man.  He had given this stranger, this unknown person
her brother's name.  Shanea looked at Crisdean closely. 
     He could almost be Crisdean as an adult.  What he would have
looked like now if he was alive.  The same thick dark hair, the same
features that she would have expected her Crisdean to have.  But those
eyes.  Eyes that were not like hers or her brother's at all.  The eyes
that were the green of spring grass.  A voice played in her mind.  A
memory of an old fairy tale that her father had told her countless
times as a child.  About the chosen ones.  About the defenders that
would arise from their enchanted slumber and come to Draconia's aid at
the time of her greatest need.  Shanea pushed that story out of her
head.  It was nothing but a tale for children.  There was no way that
it could be true.  You made your own destiny.  Fought your own battles
for what you believed in.  
     Hope threatened to come into her heart, something that she had not
felt in many years.  Hope.  It came alight as a small flicker of a
flame.  Hope -- that maybe, just maybe there might just happen to be a
miracle out there that would save them.  End the fighting and the
dying.  Shanea did not try to stop that small little flame from coming
into being but she also did not give into the spell that it threatened
to weave around her.  
     As she stared at the stranger, who sparked this flame of hope and
made her feel things that she did not want to feel, she made a solemn
promise to herself.  She would still keep her guard up just in case her
father was wrong about this man.  And she also promised herself that if
he proved himself to be a liar, a deceiver, that she would strike him
dead herself.  

*********

In search of the lost...

     Starbuck watched in uncharacteristic silence as the shuttle rose
from the planet's surface to return to the fleet.  That's where they
all should be was back at the fleet, preparing to attend a performance
of a play that they had ducats for tonight.  It was an aquarian tragedy
about a young couple who were deeply in love but whose families were at
war with one another, so they could never realize that love.  Starbuck
had always thought that the play was too emotional, too overly romantic
but Apollo told his friend that he wasn't seeing all of the parts of
that play that made it a classic.  So Starbuck had grudgingly agreed to
attend with Cassie, Sheba and Apollo, not wanting to be left out of the
evening.  Apollo had not said anything in retort to Starbuck's
agreement to attend a play that he did not want to go to, he had just
kept his own counsel.  Although Starbuck himself knew that if they had
not been with Sheba and Cassie, that Apollo would have said something. 
Now with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as Starbuck looked
at the Apollo's wrecked viper that he would willingly attend however
many performances of that play that Apollo wanted to go to without
complaint if they could just have him back. 
     Cassie walked over to the man that she loved and said quietly,
"Starbuck."
     Starbuck looked at the viper a centon longer as if he was
committing it to memory, then sighed, turning to look at Boomer, Sheba,
and Athena who were all looking a bit subdued.
     "Let's survey this wreckage some more.  See if we can glean from
it clues as to what happened here.  What caused this mess, and maybe to
which direction Apollo went from here."
     The five walked over to the wreckage that was furthest from the
other vipers.  Cassie slowly climbed up and cautiously opened the
canopy on one of the vipers.  This was the one part of the job that she
did not care to do.  Dealing with the dead.  Cassie knew what would
assail her nose and eyes as soon as she opened up the cover.  The
bodies that remained in these craft had been there for quite a while,
as much as five days or more.
     Cassie leaned back as the over heated stagnate air escaped the now
open cockpit, along with the smell of decaying flesh.  She looked at
the body contained within, or rather what was left of it that she could
identify.  Her stomach turned as she looked at the rotting flesh that
remained on the skeletal structure of the young pilot's face.  What a
horrible way to die - alone and left to the environment of the planet. 
No proper burial.  
     Cassie's eyes started to water as she looked at the open vacant
eyes of the young man contained in the cockpit.  Still strapped in his
seat, his mouth hung open and the look of fear that still remained
frozen in time on what was left of his face.  His hand still gripped
the joystick.  In her mind's eye, she had replaced the visage of the
young man in front of her with any number of her pilot friends.
Greenbean.  Giles.  Brie.  Then her mind got closer to her heart. 
Boomer.  Sheba.  The man that they were all here for - Apollo.  Cassie
closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears as the last person, the
person nearest and dearest to her heart came to mind.  Starbuck. 
     A quiet cough behind her brought her quickly back to the present
and to the job at hand.  Cassie was fully aware that the others were
waiting expectantly behind her and worked to quickly compose herself
before they caught on to her moment of weakness.  She was a
professional and she could and would do the job that she needed to do.
     "This is Talmar."  Cassie stated in a semi-dull tone to Starbuck
as she ran the medical scanner over the remains of the young cadet. 
Cassie looked at the readings, then to Starbuck, a puzzled expression
on her face.  "Whatever happened, he was dead before he even hit the
ground.  There is evidence of life support shut down and severe trauma
to the body."
     "Look at the damage to the vipers,"  pointed out Boomer quietly. 
"Someone or something shot this patrol down."
     Athena shook her head, trying to figure out what the evidence here
pointed to, which was impossible looking at the planet's culture and
stage of technological development.
     "But who?  Our scans show that none of these planets has the
technology for interstellar flight." said Athena.  "You said yourself
that this place was like the Leo colony four millennia ago."
     Cassie got down from Talmar's viper and said quietly.  "Maybe the
cylons have finally found us again."
     Starbuck remained thoughtfully silent as Cassie walked over to the
other viper and checked the remains of Ensign Corrine.  "I'd say she
died on impact with the planet, but she has injuries consistent with
severe electrical shock."  Cassie looked at Starbuck.  "These two died
a horrible painful death."
     "If these two have those kinds of injuries, what does that say for
Apollo?" asked Sheba, the intense worry she felt was in her voice.  She
knew that she put into words the thoughts of the others, and also knew
that those vocalized thoughts were something that they did not want to
cope with right now.
     Starbuck shook his head, pushing away the thoughts that Sheba's
words invoked.  "Apollo's a hell of a pilot.  Whatever got to these two
may not have got to him.  He at least walked away from this."  Starbuck
looked around the open area and the wreckage.
     "But how far did he get?" asked Boomer, his voice skeptical.  "And
in what condition?"
     "Hopefully to that farm that we spotted to the south.  The remains
of the trail away from his viper leads in that direction.  Hopefully he
found some friendly natives who could help him." said Starbuck, his
voice still carrying a serious edge even though he was trying to
lighten the mood.  Hope tried to resurge itself through him.  Apollo
had to be alive.  He just had to be.  Starbuck wasn't accepting
anything less.
     Sheba walked over to Starbuck, knowing that he was more worried
than he was saying about Apollo.  "Starbuck," she said quietly,  "We'll
find him.  We have to find him."
     Starbuck looked over at the woman that he knew loved his best
friend, besides the fact that she was also Starbuck's friend, and not
even bothering to hide his deep seeded worry over Apollo's fate from
her.  She already knew it was there so why hide it.  The flame of hope
that he tried to fan to life a micron ago was extinguished in his mind.
     "This was suppose to be a simple long range recon patrol, Sheba. 
A simple training mission.  What in hades happened?" 
     "Well, when we find Apollo, we'll find out."
     As the small group started in the direction of the trail that was
left for them, Starbuck prayed fervently that she was right.

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

How do I love thee?

     Sheba looked hopefully at the small earthen house with its thatch
roof and the other crude out buildings that seemed to comprise the
small primitive farm as the group walked across the open grassy field
towards it.  She hoped in her heart that Apollo was there and maybe
this nightmare would end for her.  This situation she was facing was
one that they had both had dreaded happening but had grudgingly learned
to deal with since they started their relationship several yahrens ago. 
One of them hurt and the other one searching, not knowing the fate of
the other.
     As they approached the light brown house, Sheba let her thoughts
drift to the night before Apollo left on the fateful training mission,
laying there with him in the privacy of his quarters, in the quiet of
the darkness and in the security of his arms.  How safe she felt there,
how secure, how deeply loved by him.  They had talked about many things
that night -- a future that they had often dreamed of, finding Earth or
a compatible planet to settle on, a home that they would have, children
- although they could not agree on how many.  Apollo kept changing his
mind as Boxy grew older and dear dad was getting a hearty taste of
pre-adolescent rebellion.
     The two of them reveled in every day that they had together, never
knowing when one of them was not going to come back from a mission or a
battle.  Never knowing when fate was finally going to show her hand,
the day one of them would not be so fortunate as to return.  But for
some reason unknown to Sheba, that night had been particularly special
as they had held each other close.  She had been having a funny feeling
about this recon patrol since Apollo had told her about it earlier that
day.  Sheba did not know or understand why she felt as she did, but
there was something about the system they had entered and the planets
that were ahead of them that had her on edge.  A chill crept through
her that she did not comprehend, but she was not going to question it. 
Instead, Sheba had asked Apollo to let her accompany him.  Apollo must
have seen the worry that she had tried to conceal in her eyes, for he
had just smiled, kissed her tenderly and told her reassuringly that it
was just a training recon, nothing to worry about.  But she had.
     From the time they both got up and dressed until he launched with
the two new ensigns, she had not let him out of her sight.  They had
kept the professional military demeanor that they had to put forth
while they were out in public, on duty, but she had taken a chance as
the time for the launch approached, pulling him into a secluded corner
of the launch area to kiss him goodbye, begging him to hurry back,
trying to hold the nagging fear she had about this simple recon at bay. 
She remembered his reply, "With you waiting here for me, I'll hurry as
fast as I can." And then he left her.
     Left her... Sheba looked at the house as they reached it.  A plain
simple earthen structure.  Very crude but in Sheba's mind it looked
very welcoming.  Another thought crossed Sheba's mind as she wondered
about if Apollo came here injured, what kind of medical care could he
get, not just at this home but anywhere on this planet?  This place was
not as advanced as the colonies, as the life center on the Galactica. 
And how badly was Apollo hurt?  Sheba did not want to remember the
injuries that the two unfortunate ensigns had suffered.  The
possibility of the extent along with the severity of the injuries that
Apollo might have suffered would have broken down her carefully
maintained emotional defenses, then she would be no help to Apollo at
all.  
     Sheba silently prayed again to the Lords as she stood back a bit
from the others as they stood in front of the little house.  Sheba at
that micron wanted to sit down and cry out her frustration, her worry
but she knew that would not accomplish anything.  Her father had always
taught her in the face of adversity or overwhelming odds, you had to
take decisive action.  That's what they were doing at that centon. 
Taking action.  Searching for Apollo.  They only had so much time
before the fleet would be out of range, but they *would* find him. 
Alive and they would take him back to the Galactica where Cassie and
Salik would help him get well.  All Sheba had at that centon was that
fleeting hope.
     Sheba wiped her nervous sweaty hands on her tunic, then pushed her
hair back out of her face as she waited impatiently for someone to
answer Starbuck's knock on the weathered wooden door.  It opened very
cautiously.  Sheba stood there, stock still, the words that she wanted
to utter stuck in her throat as the door stayed that way, not opening
any farther.  She wanted to fling that door open, grab whoever was
behind it and get the answers that she needed.  Maybe Apollo was here,
in that house, in need of their attention.  In need of Cassie's skills.

     Sheba watched, her emotions on a tight emotional rein as Starbuck
tried to see who or what was behind that door.  Sheba wondered why they
were not opening it any farther.  What were they afraid of?  It's not
like they were presenting any threat to whoever was on the other side
of that door.
     "Hello there.  Can we talk to you?"  Starbuck said cautiously.  
     "We just want to ask you some questions, if we may?"  Cassie said
quietly, reassuringly.  
     Sheba bit her bottom lip nervously as she waited what seemed like
an eternity for the door to open farther.  It did so, but slowly,
cautiously.  A plainly attired woman in a long brown colored dress
appeared in the doorway, her eyes taking in teach of them.  She looked
fearful at first but then cautiously ventured out to meet them.  Maybe
seeing the three women made her feel more secure, Sheba thought. 
     "Can I help you?"  she asked, as she pushed back the stray
tendrils of her straight brown hair which had strands of gray
intermingled, away from her face.
     "Yes, we're looking for someone.  A friend of ours.  He might be
injured.  Tall, dark hair, green eyes," said Starbuck at his most
charming.  The woman stepped closer to them, her gaze curious, yet
still suspicious as she looked at Starbuck.
     "You say he's a friend of yours?" she said cautiously.
     Sheba tried to contain herself as Athena answered the woman. 
Apollo had been here or this woman knew of him!  
     "He's my older brother.  His name is Apollo." said Athena,
stepping forward.  "We're worried about him.  He was suppose to meet us
several days ago, but he never arrived.  Have you seen him?  He's a
little taller than I am, his hair is the same color as mine?" 
     The woman stepped up to look at Athena closely, then satisfied
with what she saw there, nodded.  "Yes, I've seen him.  He was here."
     As quickly as they all smiled and felt relief at that news, they
came down to reality again with her word 'was'.  Sheba held her breath
unconsciously as she waited for more information. 
     "He was here?" asked Athena.  "Can you tell us where he went?"
     "With my brother Brannigan."  replied the woman, who looked
steadily at Athena.  Her cautious look was replaced with one of
interest in the strangers that stood before her.  "But you should know, 
your brother ain't well."
     With her heart feeling as though it had stopped, Athena fought the
urge to grab the woman's arms and shake her, a feeling that she
unknowingly shared with the woman that loved her brother.  "What do you
mean he's not well?  What's wrong with him?"
     "My brother found him wandering out in the woods, badly hurt.  He
had a large bump and a cut on his head that I thought would never stop
bleedin'.  His leg was badly injured and he had other cuts and bruises
all over his body.  He laid here sleeping for almost 7 days.  When he
woke, he didna know who he was or where he was."
     "He has amnesia?" asked Cassie, as she came over to stand beside
Athena and the woman.
     "I don't know what ya call it, but he knew nothing.  My brother,
though took a liking to him so he took him with him to the wars." 
     "Wars!" Sheba said, her mind reeling as she stepped forward and
reached out for Athena's hand, clasping it tightly.  Her heart started
pounding at such a rate that Sheba thought it would leap out of her
chest.  "What wars?"
     The woman laughed mirthlessly, "What wars?  Are you daft, woman. 
The wars that are going on in Upper Draconia between the good King
Cedric and the tyrant King Thane.  My brother is a Knight of the First
Realm, sworn in allegiance to King Cedric, so that's where Brannigan
took the lad.  Gave him the name of Crisdean, which fit him.  Why,
Brannigan even started teaching him how to handle a blade, so he'd have
a fightin' chance to survive up there in the battlefield."
     Sheba felt sick to her stomach at what this woman had told them. 
Some misguided nut had taken Apollo to fight in a war with a primitive
weapon such as a sword.  My god, this could not be happening.  
     "When did they leave?" Starbuck asked anxiously, his pale face
showed his reaction to the news that the woman imparted on them.
     "Why, a couple of days ago, but you'll never catch up with them on
foot.  They are on horseback, so they're probably already at Belgrande
by now.  My brother is suppose to meet up with his daughter there."
     "Do you have any... horses that we can borrow?  It's very
important that we catch up to them.  To our friend." asked Boomer. 
     The woman looked at them, then seeing something that reassured her
about them somehow, she nodded.  "I might have 3 that you can borrow,"
she replied as she turned her attention to the two women who were
standing side by side, gazing at Athena intently, then turning her
attention to Sheba, whom the strange woman stepped up closer to,
staring at her intently for several centons.  "I see no ring on your
finger, but I see plenty in your eyes.  He belongs to you?"  Sheba just
mutely nodded, unsure of this woman.  All she wanted to do was find
Apollo and get off this planet.  If answering this woman's questions
would help her attain that goal, then so be it.  
     "Then ya better hurry."  The woman replied succinctly.  "If my
brother gets him to the battlefield, he'll not be alive long.  Men are
dying quickly up there and I hear even their blades are not protecting
them."  The woman quickly turned and led them to a fenced area where
Sheba counted about 6 equines.  The woman opened the gate and caught
three of them, one at a time, tying them to the fence as she went off
to catch another.  As she led the animals out or the corral, she
continued.  "Be warned.  Thane has mighty powerful allies on his side. 
It is said that they kill men with a bright light that burns their
bodies to a blackened crisp."
     Sheba looked at the woman curiously.  Allies that kill men with
bright light and burn bodies to a blackened crisp.  That almost sounded
like a laser.  That meant that someone was interfering in this planet's
inner struggles and giving someone an advantage.  But why?
     "How far is Belgrande from here?" asked Boomer as he mounted one
of the equines.  Starbuck followed suit with Cassie climbing up behind
him.  Sheba took the third mount and Athena climbed on behind her.
     "About a two day journey from here.  You might be able to make it
by the morning if you ride hard all night.  Follow this road and it
will lead you there.  Brannigan was not suppose to meet Shanea until
late this afternoon, so he might decided to stay in town tonight. 
God's speed be with you."
     "We promise to be back and return your horses to you." said
Boomer.  "Thank you for everything that you did for our friend." 
     "I just hope you find him before he dies on the battlefield in
Upper Draconia."
     With that warning, the five spurred their horses forward, feeling
more desperate in their race to find Apollo.

*********

Song of the Night...

     The night was warm and the creatures of the night sang their quiet
songs against the backdrop of the darkness.  The only disturbance of
the darkness besides the very soft glow of starlight was the dim light
in one upper corner of the large wooded structure.  Shanea looked up at
that light curiously, wondering what her father could possibly be
thinking about at this late hour.  Hopefully his mind was not filled
with questions about the dark stranger in their midst.  Shanea let out
of soft sigh and pushed her long dark hair out of her eyes as she sat
silently in the chair on the slightly sloping porch of the inn they had
decided stay the night at.  She was worried about her father's present
state of mind, even more so now since he showed up with the dark
stranger that he named 'Crisdean.'  Shanea couldn't figure out what had
possessed him to take under his wing a man that he knew nothing about. 
Who could easily be one of Thane's allies.
     In the back of her mind though, was a nagging thought about the
young stranger.  She had watched him all evening for any sign, any
signal that he was really a minion of Thane, but she had seen nothing. 
And as she spoke to him, conversing with him on several subjects, she
slowly began to appreciate her father's logic regarding this stranger. 
Crisdean was a soft spoken man with a well educated mind.  Only
high-borns were given more than a basic education and he had every
indication of being a high-born.  Presently, with Thane on the throne
and in complete control of the vast lands of Draconia, it was as
dangerous to be a high-born as it was to be a Knight in service to King
Cedric.  
     Thane had murdered many of the great high-born families when he
had came into power.  His fear of their influence with the commoners,
their wealth and their educated minds made them a danger to him and his
rule, so Thane put forth a decree that all high-born families were to
be killed with their lands and wealth confiscated.  Fortunately, though
the word of the decree had reached the outer regions of Draconia with
many families quickly heading into hiding.  Unfortunately, it had been
too late for many of the high-borns that had lived closer to Dracis
Castle, where Thane ruled from.  A dark foreboding place that Shanea
had the misfortune of having visited in the not so distant past and not
of her own accord.
     The nagging though continued from earlier when Shanea first met
the lost young man.  Maybe Crisdean was a member of one of those
high-born families who had gone into hiding or maybe a member of one of
the unfortunates murdered.  Maybe he was on the run  and had been
caught.  Maybe he had mistakenly ran into some of Thane's murdering
army so they tried to carry out Thane's decree, but fortunately for
him, he had survived.  There was no mistaking the fact that the young
man was in need of their assistance, in need of their friendship.  It
was quite evident to her that her father could see that too, by the way
Brannigan fussed over him like he was a small child in need of a
father's guidance.
     Resignedly, Shanea wasn't totally surprised by her father's
reaction to the young man.  She remembered her childhood under the
guidance of this warm and giving man, who was unlike the father's of
most of her friends.  Shanea remembered when she was growing up, how
she could talk to her father about any subject and he would answer her
question, guide her decisions, help her to analyze situations and
people.  He believed that both his children should be educated, not
just his son which was tradition.  Women were considered by a majority
in Draconia to exists only to be a service to their husband, to bear
children and maintain the home.  But Bannigan had other ideas for his
daughter and told her many times that education was the key to the vast
storehouse of knowledge that existed in the lands.  That she should
never settle for being treated as a second class citizen, or as though
she was just a piece of property.  
     Her father had come under fire by others of their small region for
permitting his daughter to learn how to read and write.  To give her
the access to the same education as his son was receiving.  It was
unheard of, but her father had never really been one to stand on
tradition or dictates of society.  She had been taught to ride and
fight as though she was a son, and Shanea was glad that her father had
permitted her to learn how to defend herself.  It had came in handy on
more than one occasion since the overthrow of King Cedric.  She had
also learned early in life that her father was a gentle soul and could
not turn away an injured person or animal.  How he had became a knight
was a question she had asked him often because he never fit into her
idea of a fighter or a violent man.  Brannigan would do everything in
his power to avoid a fight in a pub or on the street.  But he would
raise his sword in a heartbeat in defense of his king.  He had raised
his sword many times over the years to the King's defense.
     And she had never seen her father defeated by an enemy until over
eight years ago, when Thane, a rebel leader of little consequence from
the colony of Kastra, suddenly burst through the doors of Divina
Castle, the home of King Cedric and proceeded to pronounce himself King
of Draconia and all its divisions.  The usurper would have soundly been
thrown in the castle's dungeon for such an action except for the
presence of the other man that stood at Thane's side.  The man clad in
white robes, with his handsome face and charming smile, and the fire
that sprang from his fingers destroying the King's army, and bringing
down the fortified walls of the castle around them.
     With that action, change in the peaceful kingdom had happened
swiftly.  Their family home, which had been built by a long dead
ancestor who had dreams of continued family habitation was gone now. 
Her mother and younger brother dead.  Draconia was a bloodied and
beaten land that none of their allies would assist because of Thane's
man in white.  Now Shanea spent her life traveling from place to place,
trying to rally support for the deposed king, but instead of being able
to drum up support for King Cedric from his people, she came across a
population that were cowering in fear of Thane.  More precisely, their
true fear was for the man at his side.  The man that could end their
lives with a wave of his hand.  
     In fact, Shanea often wondered why the man in white did not just
wave his hand and quell the rebellion.  Kill them all in one sweep,
then Thane would have nothing standing in his way of total and complete
power.  Thane had announced just three days ago that he was going to
rule all of the colonies on their small world.  With the death and
destruction followed those two were ever they went, in combination with
Thane's announcement, there seemed to be nothing anyone could do to
stop them from carrying out their plan.
     But Shanea, for all her lack of hope and optimism, held on tightly
to the words of her father, who had promised her that very soon the
time would come when the evil ones would be defeated.  They just had to
be patient.  Sometimes her father would get that far away look in his
eyes, then start speaking about things she didn't understand at all and
she wished with all her heart that she did understand.  She wanted to
understand.  She had always told herself that her father was more than
met the eye and she felt that soon he would prove that to her. 
     Shanea heard a faint noise off to the side of the building.  As
she arose, her hand grasping the blade that she always carried at her
side, she stood silently in a darkened corner of the porch, watching as
a lone figure move slowly towards the field beside the inn.  The
moonlight showed a figure dressed in dark clothing as he came to a tree
a short distance from the building, sitting down underneath it.  Shanea
watched curiously as the figure sat there looking up that the stars
that glittered in the night sky.  There were very few travelers staying
at the inn this night so she had a good idea who it was under that
tree.
     Shanea quietly stepped off the porch and walked over to where
Crisdean sat in silence under the leafy expanse of the tree.  She took
note of his expression and for a moment, she felt sympathy for the man
sitting there, looking so lost, staring at the stars longingly.  She
wondered what he was thinking about.  Was he remembering his past or
worrying about his future?  Shanea didn't know how she would react if
she was in the same situation as he was, but she hoped that if the
powers that be ever let something like this happen to her in her
future, that someone like her father would find and take care of her.
     Shanea sat down beside Crisdean, who never even looked her way to
acknowledge her presence there with him.  He just remained as he was
before, staring at the stars in the night sky.
     "Couldn't sleep?"  she asked softly, not wanting to disturb the
peaceful silence that surrounded them.  She sat looking him in the
darkness.
     Crisdean sighed as he turned to her, smiling slightly.  "Yeah.  I
guess I just needed to come out here for some fresh air and to look at
the stars for a while."
     "How do you feel?"
     Crisdean sighed again before he answered.  "Confused, and maybe a
little frustrated.  I wish I could remember who I was and where I'm
from, but there's just nothing there.  Its like a big blank."
     "It will come back to you in time, Crisdean."  Shanea tried to
sound reassuring, but wondered about his memory loss herself.  "You
just have to not really think about it.  If you try to force your
memory, maybe it will just keep avoiding you.  Concentrate on your
lessons.  My father is a wonderful teacher and you have made a great
deal of progress." 
     Crisdean smiled and nodded his head in agreement.  "Your father is
a wonderful  teacher and has been kind to me.  Not many people would
have helped a stranger."
     Shanea turned and looked at the stars.  "Once upon a time here in
Draconia, many people would have gone out of their way to assist a
stranger.  This colony was a very friendly and happy place to live.  A
very beautiful place.  There use to be festivals to celebrate spring,
summer, the harvest, the arrival of winter.  People use to come from
all over to join in.  Life was good here."
     Crisdean looked at Shanea.  "Then Thane came?"
     She nodded.  "Then Thane came.  It was so sudden.  There was just
no warning.  I remember that day as if it was yesterday.  I was at the
royal castle with my father for a party.  Many of the colonies young
people were there.  I remember standing by the doorway with my friend
Lena when Thane came into the castle.  He had that man with him, that
man in white.  I remember my father's face when he saw the man in
white.  He had such a strange look.  Then Thane announced he was the
new ruler of Draconia.  The people laughed, but in an instant, the
laughter was gone.  Death and destruction happened in the matter of a
heartbeat.  My friend who had been standing at my side died that day. 
No one stood a chance against that man."
     "I'm sorry, Shanea."
     Shanea wiped the tear that was falling away.  "My mother and
brother died several days later.  Thane took away our home and our
lands.  So we have been fighting ever since.  Its been ten long years."
     "No one has been able to defeat Thane?"
     "That man is always there."
     "Does he have a name?"
     Shanea turned to look Crisdean in the eyes, her expression hard
and cold.  "I call him the devil."
     Crisdean felt a cold chill go down his spine.  Why did she pick
that reference?
     "Just when we think he's gone and we can turn to attack Thane, he
reappears."  Shanea shook her head.  "It's like he knows what we plan
to do."  She shook her head.  "I don't understand it."
     Shanea looked at Crisdean, her expression softening.  She smiled
at him.
     "I'm sorry.  I shouldn't burden you with my problems.  You seem to
have enough of your own at this moment."
     "It's all right."  Crisdean said quickly, placing a reassuring
hand on her arm.
     Shanea looked at him, feeling almost drawn to him at that moment. 
She quickly shook off that feeling and began to rise.
     "I'm sorry that I intruded on your solitude."  Shanea felt his
hand tighten on her arm as he stopped her from leaving.
     "Please, stay.  It's nice to have someone to talk to."  Crisdean
looked at her.  "Or even to just sit with."
     Shanea gazed in Crisdean's eyes for a moment then sat back down on
the grass beside him.
     "Okay.  I'll stay."
     Crisdean smiled a seemingly content smile, then turned his
attention back to the stars.

********

     The little village of Belgrande seemed to be as peaceful as any
place that you would have found in the outer reaches of Gemini.  Small
homes and businesses, rustic and primitive looking complete with straw
thatch roofs made up the small haven.  The inhabitants of this world
milled around, some conversing with each other to catch up on life's
happenings, others busy loading wagons with necessary supplies.  The
sounds of children at play filled the air as their mothers stood close
by, conversing with each other in quiet tones, with worried expressions
on their faces.  Men stood around in groups seeming as though they were
discussing life, farming, livestock, or possibly the present situation
with the war.  A war that the people from the Galactica knew nothing
about, except that it was happening and that was where Apollo was
headed, not realizing what he was getting into.  
     Sheba, her heart pounding rapidly with fear and worry, looked
around longingly for the familiar face as the five companions made
their way into the small village.  The five had ridden their equines
hard all during night to reach this place, barely speaking a word to
each other, all silently hoping and praying that they would find Apollo
here somewhere in this village.  Alive and well.  All of them were
tired, near the point of exhaustion as were their mounts, but each one
of them knew that for every centon that passed, that they were slowly
running out of time to find Apollo.  The fleet was still traveling
forward, even though at a much slower pace, but still they were moving
and Sheba knew that Adama could not and would not bring them to a full
stop, not even for his own son.  He was buying them as much time as he
could by slowing the fleet down, hoping with a father's heart that they
would find his son.  Sheba did not plan on leaving this place without
Apollo.
     "What are we going to do, Starbuck, when we find him?"  asked
Sheba softly, breaking the silence that had hung between them for
metrons.  Starbuck looked over at her, his blue eyes showing his own
worry and concern, and his own tiredness, but it was mixed with the
determination to find his best friend. That alone made Sheba feel a
small bit of guilt in voicing her concerns, but they had to face them
now.  Her mind had played over and over again what the woman at the
farmhouse had told them about Apollo and about his condition.  It could
not be avoided any longer.  
     Sheba pushed forward.  "We can't exactly run up to him and take
him out of this place!  If what that woman said was accurate, he has
absolutely _no_ idea who he is, let alone who we are.  There is no
telling how he might react to us."
     Starbuck sighed and his shoulders seemed to sag a little as he
nodded at Sheba's point.  "I know, Sheba, but let's just face one
problem at a time.  Let's see if he is even still here in this village,
let alone finding Apollo if this man he's with has already moved on and
taken Apollo with him."  Starbuck looked out at the small village and
remembered small towns and villages like this back on Caprica when he
was a boy.  You just didn't start asking questions in a place like this
without causing a stir with the locals.  "Even though this place is
small, we can't just go and start asking questions.  We are strangers
here.  You saw and heard from that woman about how these people are
reacting to strangers, possibly with good reason from what she was
telling us.  Let's just find him, if he's still here.  How we approach
him when we find him will be another problem."
     Cassie spoke softly from her seat behind Starbuck.  "We're going
to have to approach him slowly and carefully when we do find him,
Starbuck.  Amnesia is a tricky thing.  Anyone or anything could trigger
the memories to return to his mind and that is what is dangerous.  The
memories could come in a flood that could overwhelm Apollo, doing more
harm than good or they could come in little bits and pieces leaving him
more confused than before since he will be unable to make any sense out
of them.  Comparing this place he's in right now, the fact of how
primitive it is and the memories that he will have of a totally
different type of society?  A technological one with space travel,
vipers and battlestars?  Besides all of the modern conveniences? 
Apollo will probably think that he has lost his mind."  
     Cassie felt her own exhaustion start to take hold as she rested
her forehead for a moment against Starbuck's back, deriving some sort
of comfort from just his presence, then she sighed.  Her own doubts and
concerns for her friend had taken their toll on her own mind.  She
fervently wished that this was all some strange dream, one that she
would wake up from to find herself on the Galactica in her quarters
with Starbuck beside her.  That somewhere else on the Galactica, Apollo
was fine and ensconced away in some private place, spending time alone
with Sheba.  
     But Cassie knew that this was not some dream, no matter how much
she desired it to be and that she had to face the situation no matter
how difficult it was for her personally.  That she had to handle Apollo
in whatever condition he was in.  She was a fully trained med-tech and
now a physician in training.  Top of her class.  Salik's hope and
pride.  So far from her past life.  So far from her past profession.  A
socialator.  Now an ex-socialator.  
     Cassie's mind drifted for a micron as she remembered being on that
ship after the destruction, running to get on while trying to hide her
attire which showed her designation as a socialator for all to see. 
Her arm broken, the scorn of the others who occupied the area she was
in evident on their faces.  She was in such pain that she did not care
as much about the looks as she would have normally.  She had been told
while she was in training that she would get use to people staring at
her.  That she would get use to the scorn and the ridicule.  That being
a socialator was an honorable profession.  
     On Gemoni, yes, but even there you still had the religious
zealots.  The Otori sect.  The Mascari sect.  The Menonori.  And they
were also on that ship, escaping the destruction of the colonies.  On
that ship where there were the injured, the wounded, where there were
others in greater need than she.  Her father had always told Cassie
that she had such a gentle soul.  A loving heart just like her mother. 
If her circumstances had been different, if life had dealt her a
different hand, if she had been given another choice of profession,
what would have she became?  On that ship, when Apollo had almost
desperately asked if anyone could translate what the elderly woman was
saying to him, Cassie could not stay silent.  She had to speak up, even
though she knew what would be said about her by those people that
surrounded her.  People that did not know her, did not even know her
name, but knew of her designation by the clothes that she wore.  She
had to help the young captain understand the elderly couple.  So she
had came forward, and yes, the looks of disdain, hatred and scorn had
followed as soon as she had spoken her words.  
     Cassie felt tears gather in her eyes as she remembered Apollo
along with Starbuck and Boomer that fateful night.  Pulled from the
scornful presence of those who hated her just for her profession by the
dark haired man and his friends.  Treated as though she was a part of
the human race, not some garbage to be discarded and stepped on.  Now,
several yahrens later, Cassie loved the happy-go-lucky Starbuck with
all her heart, but there was a special place for Apollo.  Even though
there were times that she wanted to smack him up the side of his head
for getting Starbuck mixed up in his crazy ideas, Cassie still had to
admit that she loved Apollo.  He was the brother that she had wished
for when she was a child.  Cassie had thought many times how lucky
Athena was to have the men that she had in her life - her father,
Apollo, Boomer.  Even Starbuck. 
     That was something that she had learned to accept long ago that
there was a bond between Starbuck and Athena.  One that Cassie fully
understood and that was the reason why she had worded so hard in the
past several yahrens on becoming a friend to Athena, instead of a hated
rival, but she had had to wait patiently for Athena was not receptive
to her advances of camaraderie, let alone friendship.  Apollo had
advised Cassie to be patient for in the end Athena would come around
and she had.  Cassie would never be able to call the young woman one of
her closest friends, but she was able to call Athena a friend and that
was important to her.  
     Cassie just wished..  Cassie quickly pushed those intruding
thoughts away.  She had always been an optimist and she was not going
to let any pessimistic feelings enter into her thoughts now.  Cassie
looked over at Sheba who was gazing at her with concerned brown eyes. 
Cassie's heart went out to her friend for she knew how Cassie herself
would feel if it was Starbuck out there.  In as much as Cassie wished
that she could soften what she had to say next, she knew that there was
no way to do that and still be honest with her assessment of the
possibilities of Apollo's condition. 
     "If it was possible for me to get Apollo back to the Galactica and
treat him there, I would feel a whole lot better, but at this moment
that is not really an option.  Besides the fact that treating him for
his injuries and amnesia would be dependant on a lot of factors that we
could possibly encounter when we find him." Sheba's expression did not
change, but she turned her gaze away from her friend.  Starbuck in
turn, did not look like he liked the tone that Cassie's voice held. 
"There is a very strong chance that taking him out of this environment
and placing him back on the Galactica could also do more harm then
good," 
     "After waking up here in such a primitive society, being thrown
into a highly technological one would scare him to death,"  added
Boomer, his voice as grim as his expression.  "Or worse."
     "It might throw him into such a shock that he could quite possibly
never recover his memory,"  replied Cassie.
     "Well, you're the medical specialist here, Cass.  We'll do what
you say when it comes to Apollo's well being, but first, let's just
find him.  Maybe, with any luck, seeing all of us will help him
remember who we are and who he is."  Starbuck tried to maintain some
optimism in his tone, but he could not bring himself to feel very
optimistic.  Starbuck reined his equine to a stop as he looked over the
milling people for a familiar face.  Frustration was coming over him as
he did not see who he wanted to see.  Then a gnawing sense of worry
came over him.  What if they had missed them?  What if this man
Brannigan had already taken Apollo to a battlefield where he was sure
to die?  
     Starbuck did not doubt his friend's courage, but more so the
weapons that they had to do battle with here on this world.  Primitive
weapons.  Besides the fact that there were allies to this Thane up
there on that battlefield that were killing men with bright lights that
blackened their bodies which did not sound good at all.  Sounded like a
laser to him, but he was not sure.  Was it possible that there were
some unknown forces sitting out there with advance technologies that
were interfering in the destiny of this planet and its people?  Or were
these 'allies' part of a society who felt that they could play God with
a less technologically developed race of people?  Killing these people
with no regard to the fact that they were so primitive?  
     Starbuck spun around towards Athena as she gasped, "Starbuck,
look!"
     Starbuck turned back and looked in the direction that Athena was
pointing in.  There coming out of a building were three individuals. 
Starbuck squinted his eyes against the bright light of the sun as he
tried to make out what, and for that matter, who he was seeing.  He
watched as an older man came out of the building and onto the wooden
porch on the front of the structure followed by a very attractive woman
along with a slightly taller, younger man who walked with a slight
limp.  Slowly the three made their way into the sunlight as they
stepped onto the earthen street that ran in front of the building. 
Starbuck felt his heart beat a bit faster in anticipation as he felt he
recognized the dark hair of the second man.  Dressed in dark clothes
made of a crude cloth, the man looked thinner than Starbuck remembered,
but the walk, the hair, the bearing.  Could it be Apollo?  The second
man was not even looking in their direction for he seemed to be
listening to the woman who was walking beside him.
     Starbuck felt someone grip his arm and saw that Boomer with Athena
sitting behind him had moved their mount up to stand beside him. 
Athena had reached out and gripped Starbuck's arm as she watched the
people in front of her, her blue eyes wide as she looked at the
familiar form of her brother.  
     "Starbuck, it's Apollo."  Athena whispered as she continued to
watch the three people walking across the dirt street.  Starbuck turned
his head back to the trio, watching as the second man finally turned
his head so that Starbuck could fully see his face.  He did not doubt
Athena, but he wanted to be sure for his own peace of mind.  It was
Apollo! 
     "Thank God." said Sheba quietly as she took deep breaths to steady
herself as she looked at Apollo.  He was alive.  He was very much
alive.  She said a quiet prayer of thanks for that.
     "So now we have found him.  That was pretty easy, almost too easy. 
What's our next move?" asked Boomer.  "We just can't walk up to him and
say 'Hey Apollo, we're here to take you home.' and hope that he'll come
with us  willingly."
     "That must be Brannigan and his daughter with Apollo."  Starbuck
said thoughtfully.  "They all seem pretty chummy."
     "They're all he's known for the present, Starbuck.  He's going to
trust them more than anyone else at this micron."  Cassie explained
patiently.
     "So what's our next move?"  Boomer repeated almost impatiently,
looking at Starbuck, whose gaze was on Apollo.
     "Next move?  Are you crazy?  We take him home." Cried Athena, as
she suddenly pushed herself away from Boomer, jumping to the ground and
starting over to her brother.
     Starbuck threw his right leg over the equine's withers and
dismounted quickly off the equine's back jumping to the ground,
reaching out and catching Athena by the arm in mid-stride, spinning her
around to look at him.  "No!  Now you heard what Cass said.  Any shock
to his system."
     "Starbuck, he's my brother, for god's sake.  He'll remember me."
     "Will he, Athena?  Take a good look at him.  Take a good long
look, Athena, and remember what the woman told us back at the farm. 
Remember!"  Starbuck looked at Athena intently, his blue eyes locked on
hers.  Athena's anger and defiance showed clearly on her features, but
faded as she remembered what the woman told them back at the farm.  How
Apollo remembered nothing of who he was or where he was from.  About
the extent of his injuries.  Her expression softened as she turned and
looked over at the three people who had stopped to talk to someone in
the street.  She looked at his physical appearance.  How thin he
looked.  
     "He's my best friend, the closest person I have to being a
brother, Athena, and I will not let you, or Sheba or Boomer go against
Cassie's medical opinion and endanger his mental or physical wellbeing. 
Do you understand me, Athena.?"  Athena turned her head to look back at
Starbuck's angry expression.  This was probably the most serious Athena
had ever seen Starbuck in her life.  No jokes, no laughter, just deadly
seriousness, tinged with anger.  And he was right.  Athena backed down
and looked up at Cassie.
     "What do we do?" she asked submissively.
     "Athena, I want him back just as much as you or anyone else does,
but we have to do it slowly.  I have no idea how seriously he was
injured.  If what that woman told us is accurate, he has no memory of
anything.  Not his name, his family, his friends.  Nothing.  So we are
going to have to take it very slowly."
     "What do you have in mind?" asked Sheba.
     "Well, we can try something.  I'm just not sure how it is going to
work since my experience with memory loss has been usually short term
memory loss."  Cassie sighed.  "I wish Salik was here with all his
experience and training."
     "But he's not, Cassie.  You are and we will try whatever you feel
will help Apollo."  Starbuck turned his attention to Cassie who was
still sitting on the back of the equine.  
     "But what if I'm wrong, Starbuck?  What if I do something that
does more harm than good to Apollo?  I'm not a doctor.  I'm just
entering my first yahren of training."
     "Cassie, you are the medical professional here.  You are the one
with the medical training, we have none.  What do you suggest?" 
Boomer's calm voice broke though Cassie's doubts.  
     Cassie looked over at Apollo, then took a deep breath.  "All
right.  Starbuck, you and Athena need to get Apollo's attention.  The
two of you are in Apollo's earliest memories.  Maybe if he sees you,
maybe he might start remembering small pieces of the past.  The past
with us in it," said Cassie.  "But remember, do not say a world to him,
do not call him by name, do not upset him by saying anything that may
frighten him.  He's probably scared enough as it is.  Just walk like
you're just passing them on the street."
     Both Athena and Starbuck nodded their agreement to Cassie's
suggestion.  Starbuck looked at Athena, gripping her by the arm as they
slowly started walking in the direction of Apollo.  
     "I hope this works."  Athena whispered to Starbuck.
     "So do I, Athena.  So do I."  Starbuck whispered back as he tried
not to be too obvious as he watched Apollo with his companions.  "One
thing though, if he does not actually remember us, we might get some
sort of reaction out of him."
     Athena nodded her agreement as she and Starbuck continued to move
towards Apollo.  Athena held her breath as slowly Apollo turned his
head in their direction.  At first, the look in his eyes was of total
blankness, no recognition of them on his face at all.  Then, as quick
as a laser blast, Athena watched in horror as her brother just melted
to the ground in a dead faint. 
     "I hope that was not the reaction that you wanted, Starbuck!" 
Athena said stridently as she moved towards her brother's prone form.  
     "Not exactly."  Starbuck muttered as he followed in her wake.  
     From their vantage point a short distance away, Sheba, Cassie and
Boomer all watched in trepidation, and then disbelief as Apollo fell
unconscious to the ground.
     "Oh my god." whispered Cassie as she quickly dismounted, running
across the open area to where Apollo laid.
     Brannigan quickly fell to his knees and reached down to grab
Crisdean's shoulder.
     "Crisdean!  Crisdean!" the white-haired man said urgently, gently
shaking him.  "My boy, what's wrong?"
     Shanea knelt at Crisdean's head as she reached down to touch his
cheek, concern written clearly on her features.  She was surprised at
how cold his skin was, especially in the heat of the day.  What had
happened to him?  What had caused him to faint here on the street?  One
minute he was talking to her as if he didn't have a care in the world
and the next he's unconscious on the ground.  Shanea started to grow
even more concerned as she remembered what her father had told her
about the extent of Crisdean's injuries.  Maybe he was hurt more than
they knew?
     "Father, what's happened to him?" she asked quietly, trying to
mask much of the concern in her voice so that she would not worry her
father any more than he already was.
     "I don't know.  One minute he's standing beside me, the next he's
on the ground."  Brannigan replied, his voice carried a slight edge of
helplessness to it.
     Athena and Starbuck stood quietly behind Shanea, unsure what they
should do next.  They did not want to appear as if they knew Apollo,
but they also did not want to get too far from him now that they had
found him.  Especially now, considering his reaction to seeing them. 
Cassie reached them before Boomer and Sheba did, also unsure of what
she should do, but she knew that she had to make sure that Apollo was
all right.  She was a medical professional, not some ancient medicine
woman or other quack so called 'physician' of the past.  But she was
also unsure of what the reaction of the two people that were with
Apollo would be if she tried to help him.  
     With a check on her nervousness, she carefully knelt beside
Apollo, reaching out to feel the cold clamminess of his skin.  Cassie
knew from his pallor which was stark white what had happened to him. 
It was what she wanted to avoid most - shock.  She felt the young
woman's intense gaze upon her as Cassie looked up at Starbuck and
Athena, who were standing waiting for an answer.  Sheba and Boomer were
there beside them, questions on their faces.  
     Brannigan looked angrily across the still body of Crisdean to the
blonde stranger that knelt beside the young man that he had come to
care for.  Who the devil was this stranger?  
     "Who are you, woman?"  Brannigan demanded as his body tensed.  He
had never seen this woman before and he was finding that he was on edge
not just from what was happening to Crisdean, but more from just her
presence.  "What are you doing to him?"  Brannigan watched the blond
woman's movements carefully.  She seemed to make the same movements as
his sister when she was caring for someone who came to her for healer
services.  His eyes narrowed slightly as he questioned,  "Are you a
healer?"
     Cassie looked at the older man and calmly nodded her agreement. 
"Yes.  Yes, I am."  She then turned her attention back to Apollo,
hoping that her reply appeased him for the micron and she didn't have
to answer any more questions.  
     Brannigan looked at her intently for a micron then back to the
still form of Crisdean who laid unmoving on the ground, his tension
alleviated itself slightly by her admission that she was a healer, but
there was still something about her, but he was willing to put that
aside if she could help Crisdean.  
     "Can you help Crisdean?"  Brannigan asked cautiously.  
     "I'm not sure,"  was Cassie's quiet reply as she tried to keep her
voice level.  She was trying to appear as though she had never before
seen the man that was lying on the ground.  She was hoping she was
succeeding.  "Has he been ill recently?"
     "He was gravely injured a while back.  I thought he was all well
and able to travel, but now this."
     Shanea looked over, her blue eyes narrowing suspiciously as she
glanced at the blond stranger, then looked back down to Crisdean's pale
face.  She was not sure about this woman, but something about her
bothered Shanea.  The woman was a stranger, but that wasn't what
bothered Shanea most.  Maybe it was the way she was acting towards
Crisdean.  
     Shanea watched with veiled eyes the blond woman's sure movements
as she gently brushed away Crisdean's dark hair from his face, almost
in a familiar gesture as she checked his head for injuries.  Shanea did
not like her actions, not at all.  The dark haired woman reached down
and gently ran her own fingers through Crisdean's hair, hoping that the
possessive gesture would cause the blond woman to back away from him,
but to Shanea's chagrin, she did not.  In fact, there was no tell tail
reaction on the blond woman's face at all.  
     Cassie gently touched Apollo's cheek well aware of the dark haired
woman's intense gaze upon her.  Cassie was unsure what to think about
the woman's attitude towards her, but Cassie knew that she had to put
the other woman's actions out of her mind and concentrate on getting
Apollo somewhere away from the prying eyes of the gathering crowd so
that she could bring out her medical scanner and check him over.  Plus
they had to get rid of this man and his daughter for they could be more
of a hindrance than a help.
     "We have to get him someplace quiet where I can examine and treat
him."  Cassie said cautiously.  She could see the suspicion on the
woman's face and did not want to fan the flames of that suspicion any
more than necessary.  Cassie turned her attention to the older man, who
looked at her worriedly.  Cassie could see that the worry and concern
that was there was genuine.  She was at least thankful that Apollo had
been lucky enough to meet up with this man.  A person who cared. 
     "Brannigan, bring him over to the stable.  The back stall has
clean straw in it and it's quiet."  An grizzled elderly man said
quietly over Brannigan's shoulder.
     "My gratitude to you, Daniel."  Brannigan replied thankfully as he
reached down, carefully lifting Crisdean's limp form into his arms,
then turning to carry the unconscious man over to the stable.  Shanea
followed closely behind her father, but she turned suddenly and looked
back at the strange blonde woman and her companions as they started to
follow her and her father.  There was just _something_ about these
strangers, the companions of the blonde woman, that bothered Shanea
even more than the strange woman.  Something about them that made
Shanea's blood run cold.
      As she turned back around to follow her father, Shanea couldn't
explain her suspicions, at least not yet, but she was not going to drop
her guard with these strangers for a moment.  Last night, in the quiet
of the darkness, she had formed a tenuous bond of friendship with the
dark-haired young man that her father had named Crisdean.  He had
quietly broken through her notions and her suspicions as to his
motives, his intentions regarding her father, and also herself.  Shanea
had come to honestly believe that Crisdean really had no memory of his
past.  No memory of his family, of his home, or what he was doing out
there in the middle of the field that her father had found him
wandering in.  
     Those injuries along with their severity still concerned her, but
there was one other thing that she could not dismiss as easily as she
could everything else that was happening.  Someone, some unknown person
or persons had injured Crisdean extensively, and left him to die out
there in that field alone.  It was just by the grace of the Gods that
her father had happened upon him there or the young stranger would
surely be dead by now.  The questions that Shanea had been avoiding for
a while started across her mind again, questions that needed answers. 
And something else -- that feeling was returning.  The one that she had
felt when she initially had seen Crisdean with her father.  The one
that said that something was terribly wrong and if they were not
careful, whatever was behind all of this that had been happening as of
late was going to catch them when they least expected it.  It could be
the destruction of them all.  
     Was it possible that these strangers were behind what had happened
to Crisdean?  They seemed familiar with him, concerned about him, so
maybe they were not directly responsible for what happened to him. 
Shanea had seen the worry in the blond woman's eyes as she treated
Crisdean.  A healer worries about her patient, but what Shanea had seen
in the blond woman's face was different.  The same with the four other
strangers.  They all had the look full of concern for the young man
laying on the ground.  Shanea could not fully explain any of it, but
she planned to watch all five of these people very carefully.  She
would not make the same mistake that she made a short time ago with
someone else who she had ignored her intuition about and in the end,
got hurt more than she could ever say.  No, she would _never_ make that
same mistake twice. 
     A short distance behind the older man and the younger woman, Lt.
Starbuck followed silently, fighting the strong urge to rip Apollo out
of the elderly man's arms and rush him back to the Galactica with all
its advanced technology.  They did not belong here and neither did
Apollo.  He belonged back on the Galactica, commanding the squadrons,
arguing with Starbuck about his latest actions.  Being his usual
stubborn self with Starbuck at his side to keep him from falling into a
state of total seriousness.  Starbuck shook his head in perceivably as
they entered the large wooden structure ahead of them.  The smell of
fresh straw assailed the blond man's senses, along with the smells of
equines and leather, old wood and the smells of corn, oats, and other
grains used to feed these animals.  
     It had happened *so* fast.  One micron, Starbuck was looking into
green eyes that held no recognition of either Athena or himself.  A
totally blank stare was all that Starbuck could see, and then in a
flash, Apollo was flat out on the ground.  What in the name of all that
was holy had happened?  For that matter, what had happened to Apollo on
this planet?  The questions still nagged him about the wreckage in that
field and the deaths of those two young pilots.  There was no tangible
reason that those two young pilots should have died.  There was no
logical explanation, at least none that Starbuck could find.
     Starbuck glanced around the structure, refreshed by the coolness
of the air in the building of this size.  It was definitely not a small
structure, but it was a primitively built one.  Wood being held
together with small metal spikes.  Wooden fences separated the animals
that were contained within the buildings cool confines.  No hint of
technology that would enable these people to shoot down three vipers,
right out of the stars.  The mystery was growing to proportions that
just didn't only bother Starbuck, but in a way angered him.  Angered
him to the point that he could not figure out what exactly was going on
here.  
     Maybe his first assumptions were correct and there was another
more advance race 'visiting' this planet.  Maybe that is why these
people did not like strangers in their midst.  Maybe that's why they
were suspicious of any one that they did not know.  Starbuck wished he
could ask these people questions, gleaning from their answers at least
some possible answers to his own questions.  Starbuck watched silently
as Brannigan laid Crisdean down on the fresh straw in the back of the
stable, then backed up to let Cassie tend to him.
     "If you both would please wait outside while I check your friend
over."  Cassie requested quietly as she looked down at Apollo, noticing
the fading discolored bump that was evident on his temple and the cut
that was healing on his forehead.
     The dark-haired woman spoke, her tone angry.  "What about them?"
pointing to Boomer, Sheba, Starbuck and Athena. 
     "They are with me and I may need their help with your friend."
Cassie replied patiently but firmly.  "I'll let you know what I find." 
Cassie wished fervently that they would just go so she could bring out
her medical scanner.  She needed the advanced colonial technology to
make sure of Apollo's condition.
     Brannigan nodded at his daughter continued to stare at the blond
woman.  He reached out and put a comforting hand on his daughter's
shoulder.  "Let the healer treat him, Shanea."  Brannigan said to his
daughter, trying to sound comforting.  Then he turned to Cassie and his
tone changed to a hard cold one.  "But hear me healer, treat him well
or you will face my wrath.  Do you understand?"
     Cassie stared in the man's cool eyes and nodded.  "I understand." 
Cassie replied as she then watched Brannigan and his daughter leave the
building.  Cassie reached in her backpack and brought out her medical
scanner as she turned her attention back to Apollo.  She turned on the
device, then ran it over the length of Apollo's body, checking over the
information that flashed on the screen at the top of the instrument,
then she sighed.
     "Cassie, what's wrong with him?" asked Sheba, panic coming into
her voice as she leaned against the top rail of the fence, trying to
see what the scanner was reading.  Athena too looked over the railing
and down at Cassie expectantly.
     "Damn.  Right now, shock.  Seeing Starbuck and Athena sent him
into shock.  Damn.  He has a severe  temporal concussion, probably the
result of his injuries from the crash.  Right now his blood pressure is
low but his heart rate is so high its frightening."  Cassie reached in
her bag, removing a hypo along with the necessary medication, then a
few moments later injected the medication into Apollo.  Cassie then
scanned Apollo again, and slowly breathed a sigh of relief.  "Okay,
that's better.  He should be coming around any time."  She quickly put
her instruments away so that Apollo didn't see them, just in case he
still didn't know who they were when he regained consciousness.  
     Slowly, Crisdean opened his eyes, trying to figure out where he
was a that micron.  The last thing he remembered was walking into the
bright sunlight, teasing Shanea so that she would smile for him.  Then
the next thing he remembered was nothing.  It was blank.  He blinked
his eyes several time, trying to adjust to the dimness of where ever he
was.  He felt the familiar prickling of the straw, and his senses were
assailed by the smells of horses, leather, and grains, plus the strong
smell of bailed straw.  
     Crisdean heard voices and turned his head to look over at the
woman sitting at his side and the figures of two men and two women
standing on the other side of the weathered wooden fence.  He had seen
these faces before!  They were looking down at him, several of them
were smiling happily down at him.  
     "He's awake!"  one of the men said, grinning slightly.  
     The golden haired woman beside him smiled and said gently, "Hello
there.  How do you feel?"
     But Crisdean didn't answer her question.  He had several of his
own for these people.  
     "Who are you?"  he asked pointedly.  "What am I doing here? 
Where's Brannigan and Shanea?"
     The expressions on the faces before him would have been comical in
their absurdity if the situation had been different, but for Crisdean,
their expressions were what only could be described as 'struck dumb' by
his questions.  Why would they, people that were nothing more than
strangers to him, be in such a state by his questions?  What was going
on here?  What was happening to him?  And most of all, where was
Brannigan and Shanea? 
     Cassie pushed back her see-sawing emotions by taking charge of the
situation, forcing herself to be calm, cool and collected in the face
of Apollo's apparent confusion.  The others just mutely stood there,
staring in disbelief, even though they knew from the woman at the farm
that Apollo had no memory of them, of the Colonies, of his home and
family.  It seemed that they held out hope that what the woman had told
them was a mistake - just not so.  But now the truth was undeniable.
     "Ah, they are both waiting outside.  I'm a healer and my name is
Cassie."  Cassie said to Apollo soothingly.  She had to keep him calm,
but her racing thoughts were clouding her own emotions at that moment
as she looked in those clear green eyes, feeling her heart sink.  Not
one spark of recognition of any kind was in there.  Blankness stared
back at her.  They were nothing more than strangers to him.  
     Crisdean sat up slowly in the straw that he was laying in, his
eyes locked with the clear blue eyes of the healer, then he turned
away, looking instead at the 4 people staring at him from the other
side of the fence.  He felt a cold chill go up his back as he looked at
them, strangers, who for some odd reason seemed almost... familiar to
him.  Crisdean pushed those malingering thoughts to the back of his
mind, as he fought off the sudden wave of dizziness that threatened to
put him back on the straw bedding.  He closed his eyes for a moment,
then slowly opened them when he felt that he could sit without falling
over.
     "What's wrong with me?"  Crisdean asked pointedly to the blond
woman who had introduced herself as 'Cassie.'
     Cassie watched cautiously with a trained eye as Apollo closed his
eyes for a few microns then opened them, looking straight at her.  She
tried her best to smile at him comfortingly, but she knew that the
attempt was weak.  "Nothing that some rest won't cure.  You're not
fully recovered from your injuries so you need to take it easy.  Do you
feel any dizziness?" 
     Crisdean looked at her hesitantly then replied quietly, "Yes."
     That was what Cassie had suspected.  "Well, that's to be expected
from a head injury.  You're not fully healed yet and that's the reason
you collapsed on the street out there."
     "But I can't lay around.  I have to be ready to leave when
Brannigan is ready."  Crisdean said urgently, not wanting anything to
stop him from leaving with his friend, the only one he had besides his
budding friendship with Shanea.  He was not going to be left behind! 
"Brannigan wants to get up to Upper Draconia as soon as possible." 
Crisdean started to move to get up off the straw but his movements were
unsteady and clumsy as he almost fell back onto the straw.  Cassie
reached out and put her hands on his shoulders to steady him and stop
him in his attempts to get up.
     "Well, you're going to have to slow down or this will happen
again," replied Cassie, with a little urgency as she remembered what
the woman back at the farm had told them about the battle that
Brannigan was heading for in Upper Draconia.  The situation was not
going well with Apollo.  He seemed almost frightened to be left behind
by his new found friend, but in his present state, there was the very
foreseeable chance that Apollo would end up dying if he were to go
there to that battleground, either from the injuries he sustained when
he crashed here, or on the battlefield trying to defend himself.
       Crisdean looked at her intently, determination crossing his
features.  "I can take care of myself, healer."
     "Healer," Shanea's voice broke the conversation as she strode into
the barn, her mind set that she was going to find out what was going on
with Crisdean, but her determination turned to happiness as she spotted
Crisdean sitting upright on the straw.  She smiled brightly. 
"Crisdean, you're awake finally.  Father will be so relieved."  Shanea
walked into the stall and reached out her hand to help Crisdean up off
the straw and onto his feet.  As he wavered a little, Shanea held onto
his arm to steady him.  When she saw that he was standing on his own,
she turned her attention to the blond healer.  "Well, healer, you have
been a god send for Crisdean.  I wish to thank you on behalf of my
father and myself for your help."
     "Well he's not completely healed yet.  He still needs to take it
easy for a while or this will happen again."  Cassie cautioned as she
rose from the straw, not sure what to do or say to stop this woman from
taking Apollo out of here and basically away from them.  They had to
get him to the Galactica where Salik could look at the man, tell them
what he could do to help Apollo recover.  She was not the one to
continue to advise Starbuck on Apollo's medical condition.  He needed a
doctor, not a med tech who was in her first yahren of medical training.
     Shanea nodded "Understood.  We'll take our time on our journey, so
you needn't worry, healer."  Shanea turned her attention back to
Crisdean who still seemed a little unstable on his feet to her.  "Come,
brother."  She said as she reached out and placed a supportive arm
about his waist.  Shanea didn't know who these strangers were, but she
didn't like the way they were eyeing Crisdean.  Her father was
strangely attached to this man, and so was she, if the truth were known
and because of that, Shanea would make sure that Crisdean was not hurt
by these people.  Just maybe these were the people who were the cause
of Crisdean's condition.  She planned to watch them very carefully.
     "Father is waiting." she said as she led Crisdean away.
     Athena suppressed the urge to yell in protest as the woman called
Apollo 'brother'.  He was *her* brother and his name was Apollo, not
Crisdean as she called him, but Apollo didn't even recognize her, his
own sister.  Athena felt Sheba grasp her hand and squeeze it
reassuringly.  Athena knew that this was just as hard for Sheba as it
was for her, but there had to be some way to reach him.
     "He's my brother, Sheba, not hers and that Brannigan is not his
father."  Athena looked at Sheba, the hurt evident on her face.  "What
has happened to him to make him forget all of us?  Me, you, Starbuck,
Boomer, Cassie, Boxey, even Father?  What in the name of heaven has
happened to my brother?"
     Sheba stood there silently for a micron, unsure of what to say or
do to reassure her friend, then she just silently shook her head and
hugged Athena reassuringly.  "I don't know, Athena, but we will get him
back away from these people and when we do, we will do everything we
can to help him recover.  No matter how long it takes."
     A horrible through crossed Athena's mind as she stepped back out
of Sheba's arms and looked at her friend, hurt and worry evident on her
lovely features.  "What if he never recovers, Sheba?  What if he never
remembers any of us?  What are we going to do then?"
     Sheba wasn't sure that she wanted to even face that possibility,
even though it had cloistered itself in the back reaches of her mind. 
"Then we will be thankful that we have him back, no matter what." 
Athena slowly nodded her agreement and walked with Sheba back over to
where Starbuck, Boomer and Cassie stood looking out the open barn doors
to where Brannigan greeted his young friend happily.
     Starbuck looked thoughtfully at the scene before him, then turned
and shook his head at Boomer.
     "What in Hades' hole has happened to him?"
     "I'd like to know that myself.  Its like he's cracked under some
extreme pressure."
     "Boomer, did you notice the marks on his wrists?"  Starbuck said
quietly.  "Like burns of some kind?"
     Boomer thought for a moment then nodded.  "Yeah.  They almost
looked like.....torture marks."
     "But from where and who?  These people look like they're from the
feudal days.  Equines, swords, healers.  Those burns looked like they
were from some kind of hot metal, but that's not possible.  In the nine
days since Apollo left the Galactica, they've completely healed and
scarred?"
     Boomer shook his head thoughtfully at the possibility.  "I admit
it is pretty far-fetched, but the fact remains that they are healed. 
Do you think whoever was able to bring down that patrol got their hands
on Apollo and tortured him?  Then decided to heal his wounds?  Ones
that *they* inflicted?"
     Starbuck ran his hand through his hair in frustration, looking at
the ground as if it might just open up and give him the answers that he
needed, then back to Boomer. "Look at the state he's in!  Where is his
laser?  Look at how Talmar and Corrine died.  Something's not right
here!"
     Boomer nodded as he looked at the concerned face of Starbuck.  "I
agree with everything that you're saying Starbuck, but just what IS
happening here?  What happened to Apollo and who did it to him?  This
place doesn't even have the capabilities, the technological know-how to
bring down three vipers out of the stars, so how was it done?"
     "That's something I'd like to know, and the answers Boomer, are
locked away in Apollo's mind."  Starbuck sighed.  "There's one thing
though, if the experience was horrible enough to lock Apollo's mind
away from us, then I will not force him to relive it just to get
answers."
     Boomer nodded his agreement as the two men looked back towards
their friend.
     "We have to find some answers here!"  Cassie broke the tense
silence angrily as she topped in front to Starbuck, her blue eyes
flashing.  "Something traumatic has happened to Apollo."
     "What do you mean, Cass?"  Starbuck looked at his girlfriend,
confused.  What was she going to tell home that he did not already know
from what he had seen with his own eyes?  Starbuck saw Athena and Sheba
move in closer as Cassie continued.
     "I've just been going over the medical scan I took of him earlier
and *something* has happened to him.  Athena, since I don't have access
to your brother's medical records, can you tell me how many broken
bones has Apollo ever had in his life?" 
     "Lets me think..." Athena looked thoughtful for a micron before
she continued.  "He broke his wrist playing triad at the academy." 
     Starbuck and Boomer nodded their agreement since they both
remembered that incident..
     "I remember that."  Starbuck said.  "He got slammed into the wall
by a player from the Scorpian Academy."
     Athena nodded. "He fell out of a tree in our yard when he was
about 5, maybe 6 yahrens old and broke his left arm."
     "Lower or upper?"
     Athena looked confused for a micron, unsure of why that detail was
important to Cassie, but she tried to remember.  "I'm not sure.  Lower,
I think.  He was thrown from an equine at our grandparent's farm when
he was about 12 yahrens and broke his collarbone."  Athena thought for
another micron, then she remembered another time.  "Oh and when Caprica
City was attacked when he was 7, he may have broken something, but I'm
not sure.  I'm not sure of all his injuries as a warrior."
     "All those injuries were treated in a life station, where they
used a state-of-the-art bone knitting machine?"
     "Yes.  Why Cassie?"  Athena was puzzled.
     "Because this scan says that Apollo now has some crudely mended
breaks in his bones, but its like they were mended using a very early
version of a bone knitting device."  Cassie looked at the puzzled group
and explained further.  "With our technology back on the Galactica, a
bone can be repaired with no real visible evidence of a break, in fact
the bone is even stronger than before.  This scan clearly shows that
Apollo has several breaks in his right arm, at least five broken ribs
and a fractured cheekbone.  Plus evidence of some sort of severe
electrical shock to his body, just like Talmar and Corrine.  Burns in
several places, with a pretty serious one on his left leg that's
healing but it shouldn't be with the technology, or rather lack of it
that is available here besides the temporal concussion and amnesia. 
There is absolutely no way that Apollo should be sitting upright, out
of bed, walking and talking, but he is.  Now I want to know what the
hell happened to him and how is it that he's healed to the point that
he has?"
     Starbuck gave Boomer a resigned look. "Looks like we have no
choice now but to find out what happened to Apollo, and when we do,
we'll know what happened to those two ensigns too." said Starbuck,
shaking his head, not sure that what they were about to do was in
Apollo's best interest.  "We have to remain with Apollo somehow."
     "But how?" asked Sheba.  "He's heading off with that man and his
daughter to some war that Apollo has no business being involved in. 
Especially in his condition."
     Starbuck got that look on his face that Boomer knew well.  "Well
then, we are going to volunteer to fight a war."  Starbuck said
hurriedly as he ran after Brannigan.
     "Oh lord" muttered Boomer heavenward as he turned to follow his
friend, with the women on his heels. 
     "Brannigan!" shouted Starbuck as he walked over to the older man
who was helping Apollo sit down on a bench by the corral.  The older
man turned around to look at him, the older man's expression was less
than welcoming.  "I understand you're headed to the battlefields of
Upper Draconia."
     "And how do you know that?" inquired Brannigan, raising his
eyebrow questioningly.
     "Oh, a little bird told me.  Listen, we believe in King..."
Starbuck for the life of him, couldn't remember the guy's name.
     "Cedric!"  Boomer whispered tersely in his friend's ear.
     "Cedric and were heading to join the battle," said Starbuck
charmingly.  "Do you mind if we travel with you?"
     "Oh good job there, Hot Shot!"  Sheba said sarcastically under her
breath, but Starbuck heard her, but never took his eyes of Brannigan
who was looking at them, not quite believing Starbuck's song and dance.
     Brannigan looked at them, not quite sure what to make of the
strangers.  "I see no swords to defend yourselves with.  No armament of
any kind." 
     "We have....specialized skills, you might say." 
     "You do, do you?"
     "Yes.  Can we travel with you?" asked Starbuck, companionably.
     Brannigan stroked his beard and looked at his daughter dubious
about the strangers' intentions.  He had to admit though that more
warriors were needed in the battle, no matter what their skill level,
or rather lack of it and even though he was a bit curious as to their
motives, he could see no reason to deny them.  He would just be a
little more alert with these folks along for the trip.  "I see no
reason why not, besides I'm in your debt for helping Crisdean, but I'll
tell you this - we'll be going at a slower pace to be sure of
Crisdean's continued improved health." 
     "That is no problem.  When are you leaving?"
     "As soon as we can get Crisdean on a steed."
     "That's fine.  Our horses are right here."  Starbuck turned and
headed towards their equines.
     If Starbuck had been turned around, he'd have wondered what was
happening because the aging man seemed to emit a pale white glow and
the dubious expression on Brannigan's face changed to a knowing and
pleased look at the five Galactica members, as he nodded slightly.  He
quietly turned to Shanea and said, "Why don't you get the horses.  I'll
settle up with ole Daniel."  
     Shanea cast a suspicious look at the five strangers then slowly
nodded, turning to go retrieve the horses as her father requested. 
Brannigan turned his attention to Crisdean, who was sitting on a bench
by the corral.  Brannigan took in the sudden pale pallor to his face
and looked at him concerned.  He hoped that Crisdean was strong enough
to do what needed to be done.
     Brannigan leaned down and whispered, "Boy, just sit right here and
we'll be right back."  Crisdean just barely nodded, grateful to be
sitting for the ground was beginning to spin at a really strange angle. 
Brannigan patted him on the shoulder, then left to find the stable
master.
     Crisdean sat motionlessly, trying desperately to keep himself
upright and not fall to the ground.  His head was beginning to throb,
the ground was spinning, his stomach was nauseated and nothing he did
stopped any of it.  Crisdean sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his
head back against the rail, sweat beading profusely on his face.  He
had to keep himself together...  He had no other choice for he was not
going to be left behind.  Brannigan and Shanea were all he had and all
he knew.
     Starbuck watched cautiously as he leaned against the top rail of
the corral, concern etched on his face as he watched Apollo's pallor
fade to stark white, beads of sweat covering his face.
     "Cassie."  Starbuck called out quietly.
     Cassie rested her hand on Starbuck's shoulder as she came to stand
by his side.  "There's nothing I can do.  He needs to be back on the
Galactica."
     "Well that isn't going to happen anytime soon.  Not if those two
have anything to say about it," replied Boomer stridently.
     "Well we have to do something.  We can't just let him suffer like
this." whispered Sheba fervently.  "We outnumber them 5 to 2."
     "The medication seems to be loosing its effectiveness too quickly. 
I just don't understand what has happened to him."  Cassie stood
watching Apollo.  She muttered under her breath, "Maybe if Adama was
here..."
     Athena heard what Cassie muttered, and disagreed.  "Cassie, what
good would having Father here do for Apollo?  You saw his reaction to
just seeing Starbuck and I.  No telling what would happen to him if he
saw Father."
     "She's right." said Sheba, levelly
     "I know." frustration crept into Cassie's voice.  "I guess I'm
grasping for any ideas.  Anything that would help him."
     Crisdean sat still, eyes closed, fighting the insistent throbbing
in his head now more than his nausea.  Then, in a flash, it happened
again.  He was running... running away from something that he could not
see, could not fight... and there was pain.  Intense pain... He had to
get away from them.  And the laugh... that maniacal laugh...  He felt
like that laugh was coming from all around him, everywhere... he could
not escape the sound no matter what he tried or where he turned.  Then
a voice, a soothing reassuring voice, one that made him feel comforted,
protected broke through the pain.
     'I'm here for you, son.  I am always here for you.  Never forget
that.'
     The images changed and there was a woman -- he knew that she was
beautiful even though he could not see her face, lying close to him. 
'I love you.  I will always love you.  Now and forever.'
     The images were suddenly rushing by in flashes - craft that flew
in the sky into the darkness amongst the stars, fighting going on out
there... many ships... many, many ships amongst the stars....
running..... but from what.... and that voice that cut right through
the sound of laughter...  'Where is the fleet, Captain?  I will destroy
the fleet. You know it's only a matter of time.  Don't let your death
be in vain.  Tell me!'
     Crisdean felt the intense burning on his wrist and the pain... Oh
God the pain, he couldn't stand it, whimpered just so softly.  He
wanted to scream with the horrible pain that he felt.  He couldn't
escape it no matter how hard he tried.  The fiery red liquids, the
smell of smoke and fire and the burning smell of his own flesh.  The
pain seared through his body, mind and soul with the precision of a
sharp metal blade.  He couldn't stand it anymore.  He had to get away. 
Where was the soothing voice, where was it??? 
     Crisdean was unaware of the five individuals intense scrutiny.
     "Cassie..."  Starbuck's voice drifted off as he watched his
friend, his best friend struggling with his own personal hell. 
Starbuck wanted to rush to his side, in his tormented dreams and fight
the demons that were torturing Apollo, but he couldn't. 
     "Flashbacks?"  Cassie said unsure.  "Remembering the past?  More
than likely what happened to him."
     "Apollo... " Sheba murmured quietly as she watched Apollo fight
demons that no one could see but him.  She wanted to enfold him in her
arms, protect him from what was there tormenting him, causing this
reaction in him.  
     And in his hell, Crisdean wanted to run, wanted to hide.  The
driving urge to hide was almost overwhelming every other thought. 
Anywhere... A dark corner so he could curl up like a child.  He hurt so
much and the pain was getting worse.  He heard the crunch of his bones
breaking as the pain heightened.  He didn't know if he could stand
anymore, but he was not going to tell them what they wanted to know. 
The people he loved the most would die if he told.  He had to keep them
safe.  So he suffered, beginning to wish for death, wishing he had died
like the others instead of like this.  
     The screams of the others dying echoed through his mind....
mingling with his silent screams of pain.... he would not give his
captors the satisfaction of knowing the extent of his pain... A boy's
happy laughter rang through his mind and the sound of barking.... A
woman's soft sultry laugh.... a man's jovial voice saying 'I have a
system that just can't loose'....  A happy voice of a young woman...'I
love you, big brother!'.... Crisdean.... Crisdean..... "Crisdean!"
     Crisdean woke with a startled cry and looked wide-eyed at the face
of Brannigan.  The older man looked at him, worry evident in his deep
blue eyes.  Crisdean looked over and saw Shanea sitting at his side, a
protective hand held his. 
     "Crisdean!  Are you alright, son?"
     Crisdean looked around wide-eyed at his surroundings, seeing
nothing frightening in the scene before him, only simplicity and
serenity.  He looked up at the five strangers who were watching him
intently, then back to Brannigan and Shanea, releasing a breath that he
didn't realize he was holding.
     "Yeah." Crisdean finally replied shaken.  "Yeah, I'm fine. 
Just... just tired."
     Brannigan did not look reassured, but didn't push the issue.  He
just wanted to get Crisdean out of town.  Something was happening with
him, Brannigan knew it.  The time was drawing near... "If your sure,
lad."
     Crisdean rose shakily to his feet with Brannigan and Shanea's
help.
     "Yeah...I'm sure."  Crisdean succeeded in standing straighter and
pulled himself together to walk across to his horse.  It was a front he
hoped no one saw through.  
     Starbuck's face looked hateful.  "If I ever find out who did this
to him, they will pay dearly."
     "Amen to that." said Boomer, his features set in a cold mask of
anger and determination.
     "You have to beat me to them." replied Sheba, her voice cold and
hard, a single tear escaping down her cheek unheeded.
     "This is the rare time that I actually think I could kill
someone." said Cassie quietly. 
     Athena' s face was a cold mask.  "I know I could."
     "Let's stay with him.  I think Apollo's going to need us more than
ever very soon," said Starbuck.

********

     The journey's progress was slow and not so steady as the aging
knight and his daughter led the way through the dense wooded path
northward towards the lands where the battle raged for control of
Draconia.  Starbuck still couldn't believe they were here and they were
heading towards a battle fought with such primitive weapons.  Looking
at the gleaming piece of metal that hung at Brannigan's side, Starbuck
felt a shutter go though his body at the thought of dying by such a
weapon.  Such a painful way to die.  Starbuck tried not to let his
thoughts drift in that direction, but it was hard to stop them
considering what they were heading into and Starbuck had yet to come up
with a plan to stop these two from taking Apollo up there to most
certainly meet his death.  Every idea the imaginative lieutenant had
come up with he had quickly discarded since nothing he came up with fit
the situation they were in.  There had to be a way to stop this
madness.
     Maybe Apollo's deteriorating condition would be the thing that
ended this stupidity.  Starbuck had watched his best friend very
carefully for any changes in Apollo's condition, and what he saw
worried him more than he could express to the others.  With every
passing centon, Apollo seemed to retreat further and further into
himself, refusing now to answer Brannigan when the older man would talk
to him.  Eventually, the knight seemed to accept the lack of response
and just continued talking even though no one was really sure if Apollo
was even able to hear the white-haired man.  Undaunted, but still very
protective of his young friend, the knight stayed close to Apollo's
side while his daughter stayed close on the other, her eyes watchful,
her stance ready for anything.  
     Now there was a woman that Starbuck was not sure he even
understood, even though he couldn't help but admire her other
attributes.  The blond-haired man was unsure what to make of Shanea and
her attachment to his friend.  The woman stuck pretty close to Apollo's
side, not leaving it for an instant, protectively guarding him, and
intermittently talking quietly to him, seemingly accepting his lack of
response as her father did, but unlike her father, the worry that
Shanea felt was clearly reflected on her features.  At one point,
Shanea reached out and took the dangling reins from Apollo's almost
limp hands, leading Apollo's equine as they made their way northward.  
     Those thoughts along with memories that were almost bittersweet of
times gone by played through Starbuck's mind as he rode in silence with
the others, no one saying anything, each seemingly lost in their own
thoughts.  Starbuck was pretty positive that each was afraid to voice
each person's own view on what was happening and how it should be
handled.  The thoughts that occupied Starbuck's mind were memories of
his and Apollo's teenage yahrens together, memories of their days at
the Academy, memories of their careers.  Their lives were so
intertwined that Starbuck could not see his life without Apollo in it. 
Who would he talk to?  Who would he confide in if Apollo never
recovered?  Who would be there for him?  Who would stand by him and
believe in him when no one else would? Apollo was always the strong
one, the sensible one, and the cautious one.  The one Starbuck depended
on to get him out of the wild, almost suicidal plans that Starbuck came
up with, just as Apollo depended on him to do the same when it was
Apollo's crazy plan.  They always seemed to make it, no matter what. 
At one time, Boomer commented that it was because they had each other,
two people who knew each other so well that they did not even have to
speak for they worked like one person.  Starbuck knew that Cassie and
Sheba agreed there.  Both women had commented one time or another about
the fact that the two men came as a package deal -- if you got one, you
got the other.  Starbuck silently agreed with the women, but he would
never admit it openly.
     Starbuck did agree with the comment that was made about them being
born under a lucky star.  He agreed with that statement from his
standpoint, but he was not so sure if it applied to Apollo.  If
something could happen, something could go wrong on a mission or in
life itself, it usually involved Apollo.  Starbuck always joked that
Apollo was not born lucky, that any luck he had rubbed off on him from
Starbuck, who just happened to be blessed with an overabundance of
luck.  Starbuck also commented on more than one occasion that it was
too bad that his rapier wit and charismatic charm did not rub off on
his friend.  At first Apollo's reply usually sounded like he was
choking on something, but he would then come back at his friend. 
Apollo would often retort that Starbuck lived a charmed life because he
was always there to get Starbuck out of the situations he got himself
into.  Then he would go on about how there was no such thing as the
'famous Starbuck Luck' and he would not even comment on the charm and
wit part of it.
     As for himself, Starbuck always said openly that he was born with
everything he needed to survive in this life - charm, wit, style, good
looks and an over-abundance of luck.  That luck had served him well
over the yahrens.  It had helped him survive the massacre at Umbra,
helped him live and deal with life in the Caprican social service
system during his childhood, and it brought the person who became his
best friend into his life, and with that his life changed in ways
Starbuck never, ever expected.
     From the very beginnings of their friendship, the orphan that no
one wanted or cared for was enveloped into a strong family atmosphere
with one of the most prominent families on Caprica, a fact that
Starbuck did not know at first.  Starbuck spent the first yahren of his
friendship with Apollo not knowing how well connected, how high-born
his friend was and he never knew that Apollo's father was THE Commander
Adama.  Starbuck had thought that Apollo's father was dead since he
never saw him, never heard too much about the man, but all that changed
the day that Starbuck woke up in his friend's bedroom to a flurry of
activity downstairs.  Starbuck could hear it even through the closed
door of Apollo's bedroom.  Apollo woke, wiping the sleep out of his
eyes, complaining about how noisy his younger siblings were, but then
the complaining changed to an expression of shock and disbelief when
they both heard Zac's voice yelling, 'Dad's home!' at the top of his
lungs.
     Starbuck found out that the man that he thought was dead was very
much alive and well.  Apollo had jumped out of bed like his pants were
on fire, combing his dark hair with his fingers, trying to find clothes
to wear.  Starbuck had never seen his friend so out of sorts and had
wondered why Apollo had never talked about his father, but he had found
out the answer to that question very quickly the moment he walked down
the stairs behind Apollo and saw the tall formidable-looking man with
dark hair that was very generously mixed with gray standing in the
entry hall.  Starbuck's jaw almost hit the steps with a thud.  Even
Starbuck knew who that man was on sight, not needing any introduction
at all.  
     Apollo's father was *the* Commander Adama,  a legend on Caprica, a
member of the Council of Twelve and the Commander of the pride of the
Colonies, the battlestar Galactica.  At first Starbuck had been
shocked, but quickly recovered his composure, trying to be as
respectful as he could be, but that still did not seem to be enough,
for the Commander looked at him with those eyes that seemed to see
right through a person, as if he was trying to see to his very soul. 
Starbuck had actually known fear at that point in his young life.  Here
was someone who he could not charm, could not sway to see things his
way, no matter how he acted.
     Starbuck felt a smile play at his lips at the memory of his first
meeting with the Commander.  It was not one of the best moments in his
life, but it was very memorable.  The Commander was not very receptive
towards Starbuck, especially when he found out Starbuck's background
and got a dose of Starbuck in action, but slowly the young boy made his
way into the Commander's heart.  It was not an easy time, but both boy
and man learned a great deal about the true character of the other over
the yahrens.  The Commander helped Starbuck through some rough times at
the Academy, standing right there beside Starbuck just as he always
stood beside Apollo, supporting him, believing in him even when the
evidence pointed against him.
     Although Starbuck could remember one evening had proved to be more
hurtful to Starbuck than any in his life.  It was a social event for
all the senior cadets as they entered the final phase of their training
and were preparing to graduate.  Starbuck had been nervous because the
top brass of the Caprician military was going to be there along with
other prominent people, both political and socially prominent.  The
Commander and Siress Ila had been there dressed in their finest.  The
Siress had done her usual last centon check, making sure that both
Apollo and Starbuck were presentable, and whispered to them that she
was blessed with two such handsome young men.  The Commander told them
his usual fatherly advice --  to put their best foot forward, then
looked at them sternly as he told them to stay out of trouble, to which
both he and Apollo had put on their best 'innocent' looks.  As usual
the Commander just sighed and shook his head in exasperation with the
two boys.  
     Starbuck had been so confident that night that he was going to wow
these people.  He had worked very hard to be in the top three percent
of his class and he felt he had finally overcome the stigma that went
along with being an orphan, not knowing whom his family was or where he
came from.  Both the Commander and the Siress had offered many times to
help Starbuck find his family, but he had not accepted, finally
admitting to them what he could not even admit to Apollo - that he was
afraid of what he would find out, and that it was better, in a way, to
not know.  Both adults had agreed to his wishes, but kept the offer
open if he ever changed his mind.  Right then, at that time, Starbuck
was happy and content with the life he had and the family that cared
for him.  
     But even the love and support of that family had not prepared him
for the attitudes of the people at that party that night.  People, who
thought they were better than he was, who rebuffed his polite attempts
at conversation.  Starbuck had been trying to ignore what had been
happening to him that night, since he had been dancing happily with a
young girl, but later that same young girl's father, a high-ranking
officer, had angrily told Starbuck to stay away from his daughter.  How
dare he think that he could ever think himself worthy and acceptable to
be considered a suitor for his daughter?  The more the Colonel spoke,
the more Starbuck wished he could just disappear into the floor as
people turned and stared at him.  He just wanted to dance with the
young girl, but even that was wrong for him.  
     The next thing Starbuck knew, the Commander was there, his hand on
Starbuck's shoulder, his eyes angry as he looked straight at the
Colonel, who seemed to almost shrink when he saw Adama and saw the
Commander's hand on Starbuck's shoulder.  The look of disbelief on the
Colonel's face when Adama had called him, 'son,' but Starbuck had been
too hurt to enjoy the Colonel's public embarrassment.  He had quickly
excused himself and slipped away, eluding Siress Ila who tried calling
out to him, avoiding Apollo who had called out to his friend to stop
him.  Starbuck did not get to enjoy Adama dressing down the Colonel,
using that cold tone that could not mask the anger that the Commander
felt.  Starbuck had found a private place down by the sea shore, away
from those people where no one could stare at him, make him feel
unworthy or unwanted and where he could be left alone to deal with his
own self-doubts  about himself, which were his own personal demons.
     Rather he *thought* he was alone.  The Commander had found him,
wallowing in his own self-pity, an errant tear falling down his cheek,
something that Starbuck never allowed himself to shed in all his life. 
Tears -- the visible signs of hurt feelings and emotional pain.  The
Commander had said nothing, but quietly sat down beside Starbuck and
remained there until Starbuck decided to start talking.  The young
cadet that Starbuck had been poured his heart out to his friend's
father, showing a side of Starbuck that only Apollo and his mother had
seen at that point.  That night on the beach and the conversation that
ensued was the moment that cemented the relationship between Adama and
Starbuck.  In reflection though, Starbuck sort of wished he could have
heard what the Commander had said that night to that Colonel, to see
what the other guest had witnessed, because Starbuck was pretty sure
some officer's attitudes had changed towards him.  He kinda wished he
knew why, but was also kind of content to not ask about it, to just
accept it.
     One thing he did know was from that night on that the Commander
came to trust Starbuck as much as he trusted his own son, and that was
a secret source of pride for Starbuck for there was not too many people
who blindly trusted Starbuck like that.  Something else that was not
general public knowledge was the truth of how Starbuck felt about the
Commander, for the truth was that Starbuck cared - no, loved the
austere man as if he was his own father and Starbuck knew without a
doubt that the Commander loved him like another son.
     Right at that micron, Starbuck was determined that he was not
going to let the man he loved as if he was his own father down, just as
he was not going to let Apollo down.  Starbuck knew that the Commander
trusted him and was depending on Starbuck to make sure that everything
was kept under control down here, that the mission to find Apollo and
find out what happened to his patrol was handled with care.  Starbuck
had made a promise to himself that everything would go smoothly, just
as if Apollo was in command, but unfortunately even Starbuck was unsure
at this point how Apollo would have reacted to what was happening right
now or what decisions Apollo would have made if he was faced with this
situation.  There was too much that was not known, too many questions
left unanswered, and too many possible answers to those questions that
seemed totally out of touch with the planet and culture that was before
him.
     Where had the scars came from that were on Apollo's wrists?  What
unspeakable trauma had happened to his friend to make Apollo be in the
condition that he was in?  What had happened up there above the planet? 
Who had been able to bring down three vipers out of the stars?  Who or
what was responsible for the deaths of two promising young ensigns? 
Starbuck couldn't shake his suspicions about Brannigan and Shanea
either.  It bothered him the way that they stayed close to Apollo, how
protective of him they were even though he was a virtual stranger to
them.  Why?  What were their motives for their actions?  Were they
responsible in some way for what happened to Apollo?  Was this all an
act to gain Apollo's trust so that they could finish the job that
someone had started by torturing Apollo to the point that he had no
memory?
     The cold feeling that Starbuck felt in his soul and the growing
mistrust he held for the two people ahead of him did not alleviate, but
grew even more as they kept on traveling northward.  What was their
rush to get to this battle?  Did they want to die or was it a trap for
Apollo?  All Starbuck wanted to do at that micron was get off the
equine so the stiff and sore muscles in his legs and butt would quit
crying out in pain.  It had been quite a few yahrens since he had
ridden an equine for any extended length of time and Starbuck was being
told that by his body in a message that came in loud and clear.  The
long ride to Belgrande and the journey that they were on now was not
helping his abused astrum at all.
     Starbuck let out an audible sigh of relief when Brannigan
announced that they were finally stopping for the night as twilight
signaled the end of the day.  A slight chill tinged the air as they
tied up the equines for the night and worked quickly to set up camp. 
Starbuck felt very stiff and sore but he knew that if he showed signs
of discomfort that Brannigan might become suspicious of him,
considering that equines seemed to be the only mode of transportation
here.  All Starbuck needed was for Brannigan to start questioning them
about their motives for accompanying them.  Starbuck knew that Shanea
would become suspicious enough to confront them about things that
Starbuck didn't want to deal with right at that moment.  He just wanted
to find a way to get Apollo away from these people, off this planet and
back to the Galactica before something else went wrong, but Starbuck
also wanted answers as to what happened to Apollo and what killed two
young pilots.
     Starbuck nodded to Boomer as he, Sheba and Athena left camp to
gather firewood.  Each stole a glance over to Apollo who was being
helped off his equine by Shanea before they left the clearing.  As they
disappeared amongst the trees, Starbuck walked over to sit down beside
Cassie, who seemed to be watching carefully as Shanea slowly helped
Apollo over to sit and rest against the fallen tree that laid on the
hard ground.  Cassie threw some more sticks and twigs into the small
fire that Brannigan had quickly started, while the older man brought
his daughter a blanket, which she draped around the Apollo's shoulders,
then gently leaned over to whisper something in his ear.  Starbuck
would have gladly given a sectons pay to know what she said to him, but
for his part, Apollo continued to remain silent, his eyes almost
seeming glassy and vacant.  Starbuck felt a chill go down his spine
that had nothing to do with the coolness of the night air. 
     A short time later, Boomer returned to the campsite with Sheba and
Athena trailing not too far behind.  They had gathered more than enough
firewood to keep the fire going throughout the night, but each had
gathered a little more just in case.  Hopefully, if Starbuck had his
way the five of them along with Apollo would not be leaving this
campsite to go fight in the battle that was supposedly happening in
some place called Upper Draconia. That instead they would be returning
back to the Galactica, to get medical attention for Apollo that could
not be found here.  Boomer knelt down, tossing some of the larger
pieces of wood that they found onto the small fire and worked on
building the small fire into a larger one, carefully glancing across
the fire at Apollo, trying to figure out what had happened to his
friend to make him react in this way.  It was so disconcerting.  Boomer
wanted to know what kind of trauma could have happened here, on such a
backward planet to cause one of the mentally strongest men he knew to
become almost a shell of himself, but the dark skinned man knew that no
answers were quickly forthcoming.  If only Apollo could tell them what
happened...  
     Frustration ate at Boomer's mind as he wished for the answers to
leap out at them, wished that Apollo would look at them with some sort
of recognition in his eyes, but time seemed to drag on and the only
thing that came from Apollo was silence.  Boomer wiped his hands on his
pants as he got up, then turned to walkover and sit down beside Athena,
who sat silently on a rock near the fire.  Boomer looked over at his
friend's sister, noting her mournful expression that seemed to mar her
pretty face.  He reached over and grasped her hand in his, trying to be
reassuring, but when Athena turned her head to look over at him with
her blue eyes misty and full of worry, Boomer had to fight the urge to
take her in his arms to comfort her.  So he squeezed her hand as she
rested her head against his shoulder with a sigh.  
     Boomer knew that he had been selfish thinking only of his feelings
regarding this situation with Apollo but now he looked at it in a new
light.  If this situation was hard for him to accept, how was it for
Athena?  Or for Sheba, for that matter?  Apollo would be appalled that
he caused his sister and the woman that he loved any concern.  He never
wanted either one of them to worry, but he knew that they did anyway. 
This situation just added on to that worry that was always there, under
the surface.
     Boomer knew that Athena had always been very close to  her older
brother, that as children and teenagers they had been each other's best
friends.  Now with Zac gone, there was only the two of them left, and
Boomer knew that Athena's biggest fear was being left the only
surviving child.  She had voiced that fear to him many times over the
yahrens, and right now that prospect loomed right in front of her with
Apollo's deteriorating condition. Boomer also knew that it hurt Athena
very much that her own brother did not recognize her at all.  That just
the sight of her did not jog Apollo's memory into returning and Boomer
could understand her feelings, and justify them for her.  He knew how
he would feel if his sisters or brother were in a similar situation and
just his presence did not jog that memory.  Boomer also knew as Athena
did the fact that since Apollo did not recognize any of them, that his
head injury could be quire serious, even life  threatening.
     Boomer became even more concerned when the smells of dinner
cooking over an open fire didn't even merit a response from his friend. 
Boomer watched closely as Apollo refused to eat anything that Shanea
tried to feed him, just continuing to sit there curled up against the
large fallen tree, the blanket wrapped tightly around him as he
continued to stare wide-eyed into the flames of the fire.  There had to
be something they could do.  Maybe it was time to call the  Commander. 
Maybe it was time to try another course of action, because nothing was
working and anything that they might be able to try would be met with
resistance from Brannigan and Shanea, that Boomer was positive of.  He
needed to talk to Starbuck and see if he could find out his thoughts.
     Sheba noted what was happening to Apollo with more worry that she
could express at that micron.  The blank stare, the vacant look in his
usually expressive green eyes as he watched the fire intently.  There
was nothing in his face that showed that he even knew what was
happening around him.  Her thoughts flashed back to their last night
together before the recon, Apollo and her alone, arms around each
other, lying facing each other in his bed.  How passionately those eyes
had looked at her that evening, how expressive they were.  Sheba felt
that Apollo's eyes were the windows to his soul.  She could tell what
he was feeling, even sometimes what he was thinking, just by looking in
those eyes.
     She had told him softly, 'I love you.  I will always love you. 
Now and forever.'  She remembered his soft reply, 'and I love you,
Sheba.  I will always love you.  Now and forever.'  Sheba would give
anything she had right now for that stubborn and willful nature of
Apollo's to spring back right now, arguing with her, his eyes snapping
in anger, as it had first been when they met.  She would even pick a
fight right now to hear him raise his voice at her and show her his
fighting sprit.  Maybe Cassie was right. Maybe if Adama was here...
     Sheba watched as Boomer got up and walked over to where Starbuck
was sitting with Cassie,  Boomer tapped Starbuck's shoulder, motioning
him to follow Boomer with a nod of his head.  Curious, Sheba got up and
made her way over to where Starbuck and Boomer were standing, away from
the fire and the listening ears of Brannigan and Shanea.  Boomer's face
was set, his voice low but insistent as he pushed at Starbuck to do
what they all knew was the only avenue left to them at this point. 
Nothing was getting any better; nothing they were doing was helping
Apollo.
     "You have to tell the Commander about Apollo.  There is no way out
of it.  We've avoided contacting the Commander as long as we can,
Starbuck," pointed out Boomer.  "There is no other alternative.  He has
to be told!"
     "He'd be down here as fast as a shuttle could carry him, no matter
what the danger possibly could be to himself." argued Starbuck.  "There
is still too much that we don't know.  We still don't know what
happened to Apollo!  Maybe everything that's has happened here to him
is part of a trap of some kind to get to the Commander!  To get to the
fleet!  No!"  Starbuck shook his head firmly; his tone one he hoped
would quell any more arguments from Boomer.  "Bringing the Commander
here would be risking his life with so much still unknown about what
happened to Apollo and his patrol.  I'm not willing to take the risk!"
     "Not willing to take the risk?!?  Starbuck, the Commander has to
be told!  He's Apollo's father!  How would you feel if it was your son
in the condition Apollo is in and no one told you?  That his
well-meaning friends kept you in the dark?"  Boomer said pointedly, his
voice becoming strident.  "I know exactly what you would do.  You would
be yelling at the top of your lungs, ready to rip their heads off. 
Have you even considered the possibility that maybe right now Apollo
needs his father more than the fleet needs its Commander?" 
     Boomer stood staring at Starbuck, frustration clearly written on
his dark features.  He quickly turned, taking a few steps away from
Starbuck as he ran his hand over his short hair as he tried to get
control of himself.  Boomer knew that he had to get through Starbuck's
thick head because he could see what was happening.  Starbuck was
trying to be Apollo on this mission, trying to see things the way
Apollo would and handle the situation the way Apollo would, but none of
that was working.  
     Boomer turned back, to stand beside Starbuck knowing he had to
make Starbuck see reason, knowing all too well just how much Starbuck
wanted to help Apollo, since he felt exactly the same way.  But they
were racing against time, and the worse part was they were losing the
battle, not making any positive progress.  Apollo was slipping further
and further away from them.
     "Starbuck, has it even crossed your mind that maybe," Boomer said
softly  "Just maybe Apollo needs his father more than he needs us?" 
     Starbuck just stood there, staring for several microns at the
ground, slowly he turned his head to look at his friend, realizing what
Boomer was saying was probably the answer they had been searching for. 
The way to get through to Apollo, to help him remember and to help him
come back to them.  Starbuck averted his eyes away from Boomer's,
closing his eyes as his mind slowly accepted what he was saying.
     "Dear God, Boomer."  Starbuck whispered, realizing in his heart
that Boomer was right, and feeling some measure of defeat and loss. 
Starbuck had always been there for Apollo since the day they met.  No
matter what the obstacle, no matter what it cost each man individually,
they had always been there for the other, with eventually Boomer and
later, Sheba thrown in as added insurance.  Now Starbuck felt sheer
helplessness in his ability to help his best friend, the person who was
as close to him as a brother.
     Starbuck barely moved his head in a nod of agreement as he said in
a subdued voice, "We'll have to leave on the beacon for the Commander
to know where to land."  He sighed and looked Boomer.  "You're right. 
We haven't been able to help him at all.  As a matter of fact, we've
failed him.  If anything, our being here has just made his condition
worse." 
     "We have not *failed* Apollo, Starbuck so quit talking like that!" 
Cassie said, not liking the defeatist tone that Starbuck was taking on. 
She walked over and placed her hand on Starbuck's arm.  "Starbuck, take
a good look at him.  No, he's not getting any better and yes, he was
better in town before we left than now, but that does not mean that our
presence here has done this to him.  For all we know, this would have
happened anyway.  Isn't it better that we were here, than leaving him
at the mercy of people who don't know him, who don't know who he is,
who don't love and care about him the way we do?"
     Starbuck took a deep breath, then looked at Cassie fighting the
tears that were welling up in his eyes.  "I know what your saying,
Cass, but tell me this.  How do I tell a man who.... who is like my own
father that I can not help my best friend?" 
     "If you want, Starbuck, I'll tell him."  Athena said quietly, her
voice catching as she stopped, then continued.  "I'll tell him about
Apollo." 
     "Either way, Starbuck he has to be told.  He has to know what is
happening to Apollo."  Sheba whispered.  "If the Commander doesn't
come, whose to say what will happen to Apollo.  He's going down hill
rapidly and we don't know why.  Maybe his presence will somehow help
Apollo fight whatever is going on with him."
     Starbuck nodded his agreement; he only hoped that he was doing the
right thing.  "I'll do it.  I'll inform the Commander"  Starbuck looked
over towards the figures of Brannigan and Shanea, who were both
hovering over Apollo.  Starbuck watched as Shanea brushed Apollo's
sweat soaked hair aside as she spoke gently to him.  "We have to get
rid of Brannigan and his daughter when Adama arrives."
     Boomer nodded as he looked over at the older man and young woman. 
"It's getting late.  Hopefully they'll be going to bed soon."
     "I have some sedatives that I can give them that will keep them
knocked out for as long as we need."  Cassie glanced at the two people,
not wanting to do anything to them, but she knew that they would just
be in the way.  They were protective of Apollo, but part of her
wondered why?  What was the reason that these two people seemed so
protective towards someone?  The sound of Boomer's voice broke through
and brought his errant thoughts to a raging halt.
     "Starbuck, when you inform the Commander, tell him everything. 
Leave nothing out."
     Starbuck slowly nodded, then slipped away quietly into the woods.

*********

Never Question the Depth of a Father's Love...

     Adama sat anxiously in the silence of his quarters impatiently
waiting for communication from the planet that  the Galactica itself
had passed almost a day ago.  Nearly 3 days had passed since he had
heard any communication from Starbuck and his team.  What in the name
of all that was holy was happening down there?  Why had no one
contacted him?  Starbuck knew better!  He knew colonial regulations by
writ and by wrote even though he mostly chose to ignore them when he
saw fit.  For once Adama wished desperately that Starbuck would follow
regulations, even if it was just the one about contact with the
Galactica at regular intervals.  Unless... *something* or *someone* was
keeping Starbuck from contacting the fleet!  That could be a
possibility!  A very *strong* possibility.
     No, the Commander thought to himself.  No, every scan of the
planet has shown it to be very primitive.  No forms of communication,
no mechanized forms of transportation.  No industrial development of
any kind.  So what could have happened?  More to the point, what WAS
happening down there?  Adama got up from behind his desk, shoving his
chair back with such force that it crashed into the wall behind him. 
The sound of the cushioned chair banging against the hardness of the
metal wall made Adama almost jump at the sound.
     He stopped and took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. 
He was letting his emotions play out too much in his mind and
ultimately in his actions.  Carefully, he walked around the desk and
walked over to stand in front of the oval shaped viewport, gazing out
at the glittering sea of stars as they passed by.  Usually the view
always seemed to bring about some sense of calm in the battle weary
commander, but right at that micron, it seemed to not be doing a single
thing to calm him, in fact, it seemed to help raise the anxiety that he
was feeling to an even higher level.
     There was more than his worry for his son coming into play with
his feelings of edginess and agitation.  Something was bothering him
more than he could explain, even to his own self.  Yes, he was
definitely worried about his son, what parent in their right mind would
not be at this point, but there was just something more coming into
play with his feelings.  Something that Adama could not put his finger
on, but it was out there, in the very edge of his conscious.  Something
out there almost teasing him, tormenting him.
     He had not felt this way in a long time.  This feelings of
restlessness, anxiety laced with a growing frustration that he could
not keep under control.  He found himself jumping down the throats of
his bridge crew earlier today.  He found himself snapping at young
Rigel for absolutely nothing that she had done, blaming her for the
emptiness of the sensor's readings.  When he realized what he had just
done, he quickly wondered how many times over the past 11 days he had
done that to these people who did his bidding without question.  Whose
loyalty to him and this battlestar were beyond reproach.
     Rigel had glanced at him with wide fearful eyes, then she quickly
turned her head away from him, her shoulders hunched over her console,
her head looking downward, but he had seen the tears forming there and
felt immediate remorse.  Catching his breath, Adama's eyes had quickly
scanned the bridge, noticing that none of his crew were smiling or
relaxed.  They looked tense and edgy, like they were waiting for
something to happen.  Adama then looked over to the stoic face of his
right hand - Colonel Tigh, who just looked at Adama, his dark face
showing nothing, but his dark eyes telling all.  Adama could see the
reproach, the caution and the concern that was there.  Slowly the
white-haired commander let out the breath that he did not realize he
had been holding then walked down the stairs from the command podium to
place his hand on the slender shoulder of the young sergeant.  He felt
remorse when the young woman almost flinched at his touch.  
     Adama had tried to never be a harsh or demanding Commander, as
were many of his counterparts.  He did not believe in browbeating those
under his command.  Yes, he did expect their respect and their loyalty,
but he never believed in being overbearing towards anyone.  He thought
he was a fair and just person.  Compassionate.  A Commander who
listened to his crew, who they could turn to when they needed him to
listen to them.  His father had told him to never expect more out of
those in his command than he would demand of himself.  His father had
been a commander for many yahrens and had earned the respect of every
person that had served under him.  At his funeral, Adama had been
overwhelmed by the number of people who had came to pay their respects
to his father, many repeating to Adama his father's words of wisdom
that he had imparted over the yahrens.  Adama himself had tried to live
by his father's number one steadfast rule for all the yahrens he had
been in his many positions of command and never asked more of anyone
than he ever asked of himself.  Sometimes he asked more from himself
than he asked of others.  
     To find his bridge crew almost in fear of him caused him more
heartbreak than he cared to deal with.  In a quiet voice he had
apologized to the soft spoken Rigel, who had slowly turned her head to
look up at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.  She was just a
young girl, about the same age as Athena.  Adama reached out and had
touched her head with a paternal touch, as he would have done to
Athena, and then excused her so that she could pull herself together. 
He then slowly returned to the command podium, and in a clear, but
apologetic voice apologized for his attitude and actions to his bridge
crew.  He then turned command over to Tigh, who had just nodded as
Adama had left the bridge and headed for his quarters to deal with his
emotions.
     Why was he feeling the way he was?  What was bothering him so? 
Why was nothing alleviating his tension?  Adama turned away from the
star field and looked over at the pictures that lined the shelves
behind his desk.  Holopictures that meant a great deal to him. 
Holopictures of his children when they were small, when they were
teenagers, when they were adults.  Holopictures of his extended family
- of  Starbuck and Cassie, Boomer, Sheba.  Holopictures of his
grandson, Boxey.  Then his eyes rested on one of the holopics that he
cherished -- one of his beloved Ila.
     He looked at the earliest, one of her taken when they had first
started dating back when he was a young Lieutenant, on his first leave
with his wingmate, a very young Lieutenant Tigh.  Her beautiful glowing
face that the photographer caught was when Ila was looking at Adama,
who kept asking her to smile, to give him something to take with him
back to the Ricon.  She had been so fresh, so beautiful, so open and
honest.  He had been captivated by her sense of humor, her ability to
get through to him when no one and nothing else could.  Her dark blond
hair had fluttered around her as she had sat there on the edge of the
fountain in the park that day.  That had been the day that Adama
realized that this buoyant young woman was very different from any
other woman he had ever been with.  She had been so intelligent, so
easy to talk to, and didn't delve into the simple mindless prattle that
other young women did.  He could actually talk to her and she would
answer him, listen to him without getting bored.
     The next holopic that his gaze rested upon was taken on their
sealing day, Ila dressed in a beautiful sealing gown of ivory caprican
silk, her hair free of any restriction as it hung to her waist.  He
wondered many times during their marriage if Ila truly realized what
she was getting into the day that she committed herself to him.  The
long separations because of his duty to the military, the loneliness,
the endless letters and holodiscs that they would exchange, the nights
of sleeping all alone with only a blanket and pillow to hold and keep
her warm.  Then the children came, the symbols of their love.  First
Apollo, then Athena and finally Zac.  Then, if you really got to the
heart of it all, came Starbuck.
     Adama smiled indulgently as he looked at the holopic of one of
Ila's natal-day celebrations.  The photographer had worked to get all
of three siblings in one place so that he could take the perfect
holopic of Ila with their grown children, but the photographer had been
a bit shocked when Ila raised her hand and proclaimed that the picture
was definitely not complete.  She had then motioned for Starbuck to
join them.  Not accepting his refusal, she finally had to get up and
drag him over by the hand.  After she got him in place, she finally sat
back down and told the photographer to take the picture now since all
her children were finally in it.  Adama had just smiled, knowing full
well his wife's feelings for the orphan that had fallen into their
family one day.  He dared anyone to defy Ila when she felt strongly
about something or *someone* and Starbuck was definitely someone she
felt very strongly about.  
     Starbuck had not taken Ila's death very well at all.  He
remembered all too well the shock, the paleness of his face, the tears
welling up in the young man's blue eyes.  He had backed away from
Adama, then quickly excused himself, not wanting anyone to see him
grieve for the woman who had been the only mother the young man had
ever known.  Three blows in one day - the total destruction of their
home worlds, the death of Zac and then the death of Ila.  Adama had
worried about Apollo Athena and Starbuck as they had all three went in
different directions to deal with their losses. 
     Adama sighed as he averted his gaze from his wall of memories and
looked to the floor.  He knew something was wrong, so desperately
wrong.  Adama knew in his heart that Apollo was not dead, something
there told him that his son was alive, so that was not the reason for
the non-communication from the rescue team.  What was it?  What could
be happening down there that would stop them from following
regulations?  Why was Adama feeling so uneasy about everything?  What
was causing this?  
     Adama looked up and started walking over to his desk, his eyes
resting on the cut crystal decanter full of the dark amber colored
ambrosia.  Adama wanted desperately to take a drink from the bottle
that sat on the edge of his desk, but he knew he would need a clear
mind for when Starbuck did finally contact the fleet.  Suddenly a loud
beep broke the silence of the room as Adama moved quickly around the
desk.  The view screen lit up and Tigh's somber dark face filled the
small screen. 
     "Commander, we're receiving incoming communication from the
planet.  It's Starbuck."
     Adama sat down behind the desk as he replied tersely,  "Patch it
through, Tigh."  Within a few microns, Starbuck's face filled the
screen, replacing Tigh's.  "Go ahead Starbuck."  Adama took in
Starbuck's expression and was not sure he liked what he saw there.
     "Commander, we found Apollo."
     Adama felt his heart sink low at the tone of Starbuck's voice. 
"And?"  Adama prompted when Starbuck didn't continue right away.
     Starbuck averted his eyes from the viewscreen, then looked back at
the Commander, sighing.  "Commander, I wish I knew what was wrong..."
     Adama felt his discomfort and agitation reach the screaming point, 
"Starbuck..." Adama just about shouted at the young man.  This was no
time for Starbuck to play coy with him.  
     Starbuck sighed again, then just started blurting out everything
in a rush.  "Apollo's hurt.  He has amnesia.  He doesn't remember any
of us, the Galactica, the fleet, nothing.  He's with this man named
Brannigan and  his daughter.  We tracked them to a small village down
here."  Starbuck stopped and Adama could hear him take a deep breath
before he continued.  "We're concerned... hell, we're way past
'concerned.'  We're just plain outright worried about Apollo.  When he
saw Athena and I, he just stared at us blankly and passed out on the
ground in a flash."
     Adama tried to slow down his racing heart as he sat back in his
chair, trying to take in what Starbuck was telling him, then he asked
as calmly as he could,  "What does Cassie say about Apollo's
condition?"
     "She's just as worried as the rest of us, maybe more from her
standpoint as his doctor.  At first she treated him for shock, which we
assumed was from his seeing us, but when Cassie went back over the
medical scan that she took of him discreetly, she found evidence of
broken bones that had been crudely healed by a bone knitter and
evidence of severe trauma of some kind.  Boomer and I saw scarring from
burns on his wrists."  Starbuck stopped and took a calming breath as he
tried to continue.  "It's like he's been tortured somehow."
     "Tortured?"  Adama's voice incredulous.  "But by who and why?"
     Starbuck shook his head.  "I have no idea of the wherefores and
the whys, all I see is the result and that's not too good.  Apollo
seems like he is fighting memories, possibly of that torture and
Commander, he not winning.  He's slipping away from us fast.  Right now
he is sitting, staring at a campfire with no expression of any kind on
his face.  Just staring straight into the flames, wrapped in a blanket,
sweating profusely.  Not eating, not moving, not speaking.  Acting
absolutely terrified of something -- memories, dreams, we don't know
what." 
     "Commander..." Starbuck's voice broke.  "I honestly don't know
what to do.  I know I should be reporting this better than I am, but if
you just saw Apollo....  He needs you, sir.  More than he needs me,
Athena, Sheba, Cassie or Boomer.  More than he needs anyone else. 
Nothing we're doing is helping him and he's just slipping away from
us."
     Adama made a decision that took no time at all.  He made his
decision with the heart of a father, not the mind of a Commander.  His
son needed him and he was going to go to him and do whatever he needed
to do for his child.  There was something evil out there, he could feel
it.  That was what was causing his unease.  That's what was causing his
edginess.
     "Starbuck, get back there and do what you can for Apollo."  Adama
took in the expression on Starubck's face and spoke reassuringly to him
with his paternal voice.  "Son, I'm on my way.  I'll be there as soon
as I can."
     Starbuck nodded.  "We'll be waiting.  I'm setting a beacon out
very close to our camp so that you can find us."  And with that the
screen went dark.
     Adama stood, his face grim.  He had made enough sacrifices for the
colonies and the fleet.  He had put duty and the protection of his
people before his own family more times than he could count.  Now it
was his family's turn to come first.  Something was out there. 
Something had done unspeakable things to his son and now it was time
for Adama to enter into this unseen equation.  
     Adama hit the comm. Button to the bridge.  Tigh's face once again
filled the small screen.
     "Yes Commander."
     "Tigh, meet me in my quarters immediately."
     Tigh nodded as he said rigidly, "Yes sir."

*********

Evil Lurks in the Shadows...

     The mist that had hung low all during the night to the coolness of
the ground was starting to dissipate as the morning sun began to rise
in the sky, chasing away the darkness of night and warming the night
air to an almost comfortable level.  Two figures lying on the ground
slept on, unaware of the rising of the sun, their bodies curled beneath
the warmth of the blankets.  Boomer carefully moved from his position
on the rock by the still burning fire, watching for any sign of
movement from those two figures, but even more concerned about the
motionless figure that still sat staring into the flames of the fire
that Boomer had maintained throughout the night.  He was tired from the
lack of sleep, but that didn't really bother him since he had had many
sleepless nights before and he would have many more in the future.  No,
Boomer was more concerned about the condition of the dark haired man
sitting almost lifelessly by the fire, intently staring into the
flames. The man that he called one of his closest friends.  
     Still not a single indication of even the slightest movement from
Apollo.  It was chilling to see a person who had been joking and
laughing with just days earlier, sitting there like he was, almost as
though he was in a comatose state.  Boomer wished he could get inside
the mind of his friend; find out what exactly happened to him and to
the two young cadets that he was in charge of.  Boomer knew that Apollo
would have done everything in his power to save those two people, so
whatever happened must have been quick and been a complete surprise. 
Someone or something had done so much psychological damage to Apollo
that it may be even beyond the Galactica's medical technology to
repair, but Boomer had still a small flicker of hope.  Apollo had
overcome substantial odds before, maybe it could be done again.  
     Sighing quietly, Boomer glanced over at the dark-haired young
woman who sat quietly on the ground across the fire from Apollo, her
blue eyes watching her brother, the worry she felt evident in those
expressive eyes as well as a glimmer of impatience.  Boomer knew that
the impatience he saw was for the most part due to her waiting for her
father to arrive, which even Boomer hoped would be soon.  Earlier in
the night, Boomer had conjolled Athena into getting some rest, but that
'rest' period did not last very long.  She had been up now for almost
two centars, just sitting there,  sometimes speaking quietly to her
brother across the fire, looking for some reaction, any reaction to
come from him, but so far there had been nothing. 
     Boomer wasn't quite sure what to do next about Athena, but he did
know that she would eventually make herself ill worrying endlessly
about her brother.  Boomer picked up a couple of more pieces of wood,
along with the stick he was using to stoke the fire and walked over to
sit down beside Athena.  For a few moments while Boomer put one of the
logs onto the fire, Athena just continued to sit there silently,
seemingly oblivious to his presence, but just a few centons later, he
heard her take a deep breath and quietly speak.
     "This can't be happening, Boomer."  Athena continued to look over
at Apollo, just sitting there, not moving, and not seeming to even
blink.  "This just can't be happening."
     "Unfortunately Athena, it is, in as much as we would like not to
be in this situation.  We have done everything that we possibly could
for Apollo, short of drawing weapons on these people and kidnapping him
back to the Galactica."
     Athena looked over at her friend, her voice emphatic.  "Maybe
that's what we should have done.  Forced the situation and just taken
Apollo back to the Galactica!"
     "What would that have accomplished, Athena?"  Boomer interrupted
her.  "How much more damage would it have done, maybe not physically,
but mentally to Apollo?  Are you even now willing to risk anymore
damage to him than has already been done?"
     Athena opened her mouth like she was going say something, then
changed her mind and remained silent.  A few centons later, she spoke
again.  "Just who in hades did this to him, Boomer and why?  What if it
was this man and his daughter?  What if they are the ones who did this
to Apollo and now here we are traipsing through the woods with them,
heading to a place that we know nothing about or have any idea what is
waiting for us there."
     "Hold on a micron, Athena.  I know where your heading with this. 
If Brannigan and Shanea were the ones responsible for Apollo's
condition, then why in heaven's name are they helping him?"  Boomer
interrupted her, having an idea where she was heading with this line of
thought.  He had already toyed with that very thought himself and
ultimately discarded after weighing out all the possibilities.  "Think
for a micron.  Why are they so protective of him?  According to his
sister back at the farmhouse, Brannigan found Apollo, nursed him back
to health, and has taken good care of him.  If Brannigan was the one
that caused the scarring on Apollo's wrists, or the amnesia that he is
suffering from, why would he have done that?"
     "Who knows?  Who knows what motivates people into doing things? 
Maybe he knew that people would come searching for Apollo, so now he's
doing all of this to throw us off track."
     "Then answer this question -- how did Bannigan bring down three
vipers out of the stars?  Take a long hard look at this place, Athena. 
They have nothing that would show that they had any technology of any
kind.  Just look at the how primitive the homes they live in are
constructed, the way that they dress, their modes of transportation
which is equines and wagons."
     "Then tell me how do you explain it all?  Face it Boomer,
something about this planet is not right.  Somehow, something attacked
that patrol and killed two people!  That same someone or something
injured Apollo and has put him in a state of mind that nothing we do
seems to bring him out of.  Now if we eliminate the two obvious
suspects, who do we have left as suspects in all of this?  I'll tell
you.  NO ONE!"
     "Athena..." Boomer tried to sooth her in a low calm voice, but
Athena just shook her head, not feeling one bit calmer about everything
that she was seeing. 
     "No, Boomer, there is no one else that we know of.  We have no
other suspects.  All we have are unknowns and that is more frightening
right now than anything else at this micron because that means that it
could be ANYONE!  This person could strike again and do more damage to
Apollo with us standing right here.  Cause him more pain than he has
already endured."
     "Athena, we are here and on our guard.  No one is going to be able
to get close to Apollo unless he or she or it can get through us.  And
from what we have seen here, I know that we are more than a match for
anything these people can throw at us."
     "Unless..." Athena's voice drifted off as a thought struck her. 
"Boomer, what if these people have a technology that is so advanced
that everything we see here is nothing but a cover?  A deception so
that anyone who scans this planet finds it in a pre-technological
state?  They wouldn't be considered a threat, at least to any race that
has the ability to travel through space for the image anyone sees is a
simple planet full of simple-living people."
     Boomer shook his head.  "Sounds a little far fetched to me Athena,
but then we have encountered other beings in our travels that have
defied explanation."
     "It makes perfect sense, Boomer.  What other explanation do we
have except possibly another theory that is equally as far-fetched? 
Nothing here makes any sense.  Nothing!"  Athena turned to Boomer,
anger flashed in her eyes for an instant.  "But I'll tell you this
Boomer, they are not deceiving me.  Look at Talmar and Corrine and how
they died.  Look at Apollo and the condition he's in.  Look at the
condition of the vipers that we found back at that clearing.  Look at
everything that has happened.  I know my brother and his abilities just
as well as you and Starbuck do.
     "Somewhere on this planet is hidden the technology that was able
to bring down three vipers that were moving *above* the atmosphere. 
Somewhere hidden here are people with the ability to surprise a pilot
as seasoned as my brother is and I want to know who is responsible. 
Where are they hiding?  Beneath the surface of this planet?  Are they
just lying and waiting for us to make the next move?  Or are they
waiting to make a surprise strike against the Galactica and the fleet?" 

     Boomer looked over at Athena, his concern for her jumping a couple
of notches.  This line of almost fantasy-like theories and reasoning
that boarded on 'illogical' was not like her at all.  Athena thought
situations out, logically dissected every detail and reached a
reasonable and sound conclusion.  That was why she had risen so rapidly
to the rank of Lieutenant and attained her important position on the
bridge, because of that reasoning ability.  Now she was speaking in a
way that bothered Boomer, worried him because of the course her
thoughts were on, and the fact that she was his friend -- a very good
friend.  Boomer just wasn't sure what to do next or even really what to
say, but he had to say something to her.  Make her see reason and
regain control of her emotions.  None of them would do Apollo any good
if any of the five of them got tangled up in those emotions that they
were all feeling.  
     "Athena, listen to yourself for a micron.  Listen to what you are
saying.  I don't believe that Brannigan or his daughter have anything
to do with what happened to Apollo or any part of what happened to
Talmar and Corrine.  I can't see this place being a cover or a
deception put here just to fool and confuse, or even be a trap for
passing ships.  There has to be something else at work here.  I'm not
sure what, but the answer is out there and we have to find it."
     Athena looked back to Apollo, then returned her gaze to Boomer's
concerned face.  "Will we find it before my brother becomes the way he
is now for the rest of his life?  Or even possibly dies?"
     "Athena..."  Boomer said, reaching out and touching her arm,
trying to give some comfort to his friend, who was obviously distraught
and hurting.  
     Athena bit her bottom lip gently as she then tried to
halfheartedly smile as she looked back at her brother, her expression
reflective.  "You know Boomer, people have always thought that Apollo
was the strong one of the three of us.  The one who would not run from
a challenge, but meet it head on."  Athena's gaze softened, became
filled with sadness.  Boomer waited and watched quietly as a tear
escaped from her eye and rolled unheeded down her cheek.  He was
surprised when he felt an almost intense desire to brush that tear away
from her cheek, but her soft voice stopped him from doing that action.
"But they were wrong." 
     "Why do you say that, Athena?"  Boomer questioned, his voice
dropping a couple of notches to match the volume of hers.  
     Athena smiled as she turned to look at Boomer, one hand came up to
brush her long dark hair away from her face.  
     "Apollo was the one always bringing home some lost or injured
daggit, feline, bird -- anything that needed some care or attention. 
He was always so sensitive and took a lot of things that people said or
did to heart."  Athena sighed.  "Then he grew older and learned how to
hide that sensitivity because people thought it was such a terrible
weakness in a man, but look at our father and it's plain to see where
he gets that from.  But one day, out of the blue, Apollo started hiding
a lot of what he considered weaknesses - his sense of humor, his
teasing nature, his gentleness, his caring, his ability to *feel.*  I
even remember the day that it happened."
     "He had been somewhere, I don't even know where and he ran into
the house, crying as though he had just lost something or someone that
the loved.  I had never seen Apollo so heartbroken and that alone
frightened me, but what frightened me even more was the changes that
started that day.  How he started hiding his feelings, his personality. 
He became withdrawn, quiet.  I never found out what had happened to
him, though.  For once, he shut me out which was something he never
did."  Athena looked down at her hands, then continued on.  "He always
told me everything.  We were each other's best friends.  He has never
talked about that day or what happened, but he became so silent, so
withdrawn.  He started giving up his dreams.  Walking away from them,
just to please our father.  To be what Father expected him to be."
     Athena looked back up at Boomer.  "Apollo never even wanted to
ever join the military.  That was Father's dream for him."  She paused
for a micron, and then continued.  "Have you ever heard Apollo play the
keyboard, Boomer?
     Boomer thought for a micron, then nodded.  "Several times, but not
recently.  I think it's been probably a couple of yahrens since I last
heard him play, which now that I think of it, was the time he played
for my mother.  She use to love to hear Apollo play and he never turned
down a request from her.  She always told me that with his talent and
ability, Apollo should have been a professional musician, not a
warrior." 
     "Well, in truth he wanted to be one, but Father pushed him to
attend the Academy and accept his commission in the Colonial Service. 
None of it was ever Apollo's wish or dream."  Athena looked back over
to her brother who had not moved a muscle from what she could see, and
then she glanced over to the lone figure standing by the path that led
northward.  Starbuck was standing there by the place where he had came
out of the woods last night after contacting Adama, looking at his
chronometer on his wrist, then glancing back to the woods, his
impatience showing clearly for all to see on his face.  "He's waiting
for Father."
     Boomer sort of thought that was rather a redundant statement
coming from Athena, but he just dismissed it, attributing her thinking
to the situation with her brother.  Maybe she was just making
conversation.
     "I hope Father can get through to Apollo.  Break through this wall
he has around him and fight whatever it is that is doing this to him." 
Athena's voice changed as she felt something come over her, a feeling
that she could not put her finger on, but she felt as though all her
worries and cares were suddenly taken away from her.  She felt like she
was drifting... like she wasn't even in her own mind or body anymore.
     Boomer was startled a bit by that statement especially coming out
of Athena, just as he was concerned about the change in her tone of
voice, which had taken on a quality that he could not miss.  It almost
sounded as though it had came out of a child - that high pitched, airy
tone.  What had come over her?  "What do you mean, fight whatever it is
that is doing this to Apollo?  Fight what, Athena?"
     Athena just sat there, and then stated quietly, "The evil that has
done this to my brother."
     Boomer felt a sinking feeling go down to the pit of his stomach. 
What the hell was Athena talking about?  Boomer reached out and turned
Athena's face to look at him.  "Athena, are you all right?  What
'evil?'"
     Athena's blue eyes met Boomer's dark brown ones.  "You'll see and
know more very soon.  Everything is coming about as it should.'
     "What?"
     Athena turned her head, moving it out of Boomer's grasp and just
looked over at her brother, her expression almost as blank as her
sibling's.
     Boomer sat there just staring at her, his expression one of
disbelief.  What was happening here?

     Starbuck gazed over nervously towards the still darkened woods as
first light broke over the horizon.  The wee centars of the morning had
arrived and soon hopefully so would the Commander. Starbuck looked at
his chronometer for the umpteenth time since he had returned from
communicating with the Galactica, but now it seemed as thought time was
working against them.  Apollo had not spoken, moved nor made any type
of sound during the night.  He had not closed his eyes to rest, just
continued throughout the night to stare into the flames of the fire as
though they were his lifelines to some alternate reality.  Boomer had
made sure that the fire continued to burn bright through the night and
now with dawn breaking, the fire was still burning but not as brightly. 

     Starbuck had not been able to rest himself all night long, but he
felt as though that something constructive was going to be done with
the arrival of the Commander. The worried man had felt as though a
great weight had been lifted from his shoulders after talking to the
Commander, feeling more confident than he had since leaving the
Galactica.  Hopefully with Adama's arrival, Apollo would begin to
respond to them, possibly telling them what happened to him, eventually
shedding some light on the deaths of Talmar and Corrine.  Starbuck
sighed, then slowly started to pace as he waited albeit impatiently,
but at least it was something to help him deal with the disturbing 
uneasy feelings he had been dealing with for the past couple of
centars.  He couldn't put his finger on the reason why he felt as he
did, but that feeling was there and was growing as the arrival time for
the Commander loomed near.  
     As he paced, Starbuck glanced over at the figures of Boomer and
Athena, sitting by the fire, and he became a bit puzzled.  Earlier,
when he had looked over at the two of them, they had been talking
quietly amongst themselves as they watched over Apollo.  Now, though,
Boomer had that expression on his face that Starbuck never liked seeing
for it meant that something was bothering his friend, and that usually
meant trouble with a capital 'T."  But it was when Starbuck took in
Athena's expression that his feelings of unease grew by leaps and
bounds.  She had almost the same expression on her face that her
brother did, only where Apollo's showed a look that bordered on terror,
Athena's expression was almost carefree, euphoric.  As though she
didn't have a care in the world.
     Starbuck quickly looked over to where Sheba and Cassie sat talking
to each other as Cassie reloaded her hypo, just in case they needed to
use it on Apollo when his father arrived.  Both women seemed to be just
fine, nothing different about them, nothing like what he just saw with
Athena.  God, he wanted off this planet and back to the safety of the
fleet.  Something *evil* was at work here on this almost
idyllic-looking world and Starbuck was feeling his sense of unease grow
by the centon.  He was not mentally prepared for the direction this
mission had taken so he was very undecided on what to do now or how to
even handle this mission.
     Starbuck ran his hand through his dark blonde hair as he looked
down at the ground and began his pacing anew.  He was nothing like
Apollo.  He was not ready for the stress and responsibility of command
nor was Starbuck sure that he ever would be.  Responsibility and
everything that went with it was something that Starbuck avoided like a
dreaded illness and here he was, trying to shoulder the weight of
helping his friend and failing miserably.  Starbuck looked over at
Athena and Boomer again, his attention drawn to Athena's face.  The
lines of worry that had marred her features since they arrived here on
this world were gone.  What had happened to her?  Starbuck was not sure
that he even wanted to know, but he knew that he would have to find out
and deal with it.
     This mission was going straight to the daggits real fast and
Starbuck felt this feeling of helplessness come over him at that
thought.  Why had he accepted the responsibility of command on this
mission?  Why had he not just handed that responsibility over to
Boomer?  Boomer was more level headed, more like Apollo than Starbuck
was.  Both men could handle responsibly like it was the jacket to their
uniform; it was there so they wore it.  Why were they friends with him,
someone just so totally opposite of them?  Apollo and Boomer are the
ones who should be best friends, not Starbuck and Apollo.  They were
alike where Starbuck was not.  
     Starbuck tried to shake the feelings that were threatening of
overwhelm him.  Unfortunately, he was losing because he hated dealing
with the emotions that he was feeling right now.  And this nagging
feeling that was slowly coming over him.  The feeling of cold...of
almost evil...and why was he so sure that he had felt this feeling
before at some other time in his life??
     Where in hades was the Commander?  

     Several centons later, Adama came out of the woods into the small
clearing as the morning sun rose higher in the sky lighting up this
planet and chasing away the final fringes of darkness.  He had landed
on the planet a short time ago and hurried to the  coordinates where
Starbuck had told him the camp was, just as he had seen it on his
scanner in the viper.  Adama had left his sleek fighter craft
surrounded by the dense woods using the planet's natural environment to
camouflage the viper from the planet's inhabitants.  He kept replaying
Starbuck's words regarding Apollo and his condition over and over again
in his mind.
     The Commander heard those words very clearly as he was preparing
to leave the Galactica.  Those words and the tone of Starbuck voice
along with the young man's facial expression had been the reason that
he had totally ignored Tigh's protests when his executive officer heard
that Adama was going to the surface and why.  Adama had listened fully
to Tigh's arguments against what Adama was planning and the reasoning
behind his arguments as the Commander changed into the necessary
garments from central stores so that he could blend in with the local
culture.  In the end though Adama had brushed all of Tigh's arguments
aside as he walked to the launch bay where a viper was waiting for him,
leaving Tigh sputtering in the launch bay.  Adama was not waiting for a
shuttle to get him to his son - the viper was the fastest way.  He
interrupted Tigh's arguments, quickly detailed his orders to his
trusted executive officer, then launched for the planet.  His son
needed him and he was not going to waste time arguing with Tigh.
     The first thing he saw when he entered the clearing was the relief
clearly written on Starbuck's face as the young man spun around to look
at the new arrival. 
     "Commander!"  Sheba cried as Adama's eyes sought out her familiar
form.  Sheba hurried over to greet him, the worry that was clearly
expressed in her dark brown eyes made Adama's heart drop to the pit of
his stomach.  Adama stood there as Sheba stepped into his arms that he
wrapped around her, holding firmly and reassuringly the young woman he
loved as a daughter and whom he knew Apollo loved more than life
itself.  She raised her head from his shoulder as she said quietly, "He
hasn't moved other than to put more wood on the fire, hasn't slept,
hasn't made a sound.  We've all tried talking to him, but with no
success."
     Adama reached up and gently rested his hand against Sheba's soft
cheek, a paternal look of reassurance crossed his face.  
     "Let's see what I can do."  Adama replied as he released her,
turning his attention to the still form of his son.  Adama could not
see his son's face, but could see Apollo's dark hair, wet with sweat,
his shoulders hunched under the blanket that was wrapped around him
that he hugged close.  He then turned to Starbuck and said firmly,
"Where's the others that were with you?"
     "Cassie made sure that they overslept this morning," replied
Starbuck.
     "Cassie,"  Adama looked at the young blonde med tech, "has there
been any change in Apollo since I talked to Starbuck last night?"
     Cassie shook her head slowly from side to side as she looked at
her commanding officer.  "None. He seems to be slipping further and
further away from us with every centon that passes.  He has not ate or
slept.  I do have a sedative ready to use on Apollo, just in case we
need it."
     "All lasers are set on stun in case Cassie can't get close enough
to administer the sedative."  Starbuck informed his Commander.  "He has
a sword unsheathed by his side.  I don't know how well Apollo can use
it, but I'll bet it's well enough to hurt us if necessary."
     Adama nodded as he carefully approached his son, not knowing what
reaction would manifest itself at Adama's presence.  As he walked
around the log to stand in front of his oldest child, taking in
everything he could about his son and his condition, Adama felt shock
and horror at what he saw.  Nothing Starbuck had told him, nothing he
could have ever imagined prepared him for the look on Apollo's face or
for the condition that his son was in.  The blankness of the stare, the
almost fearful expression that was there on his son's handsome
features, the circles under his eyes, the profuse beads of sweat on his
face, to the point that Apollo's dark hair was soaked with it.
     "Apollo."  Adama said softly, as he knelt down beside his
first-born child, using the tone of voice that he had used many times
over the yahrens, especially when Apollo had been a little boy, when he
had been hurt and in need of comfort.  "Apollo, do you hear me?" 
     "Apollo..."

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

Was it all just a dream...

     The world that Apollo existed in at that micron was a cold and
dark place where fear and terror abounded everywhere.  All he wanted
was hide from the outside world.  To not have to feel the pain anymore. 
To run from the taunts and the threats.  His heart raced along with his
pulse because he was not sure what would happen next to him.  The pain
that he had endured was more than anyone could stand.  But where could
he run to?  Where could he hide so that Iblis wouldn't be able to find
him?  Wait!  Iblis wanted Apollo!  That's what he would do.  No... he
was NOT Apollo.  Who was Apollo?  He was Crisdean.  That was it!  He
was Crisdean, the son of Brannigan, brother to Shanea.
     That was it.  Suddenly Apollo/Crisdean felt safe and secure,
protected and loved.  Brannigan... no, his *father* would be there for
him, would protect him from the pain.
     "Apollo..."  
     The voice came from a distance and was so very, very faint.  It
was almost just a whisper.  Crisdean put his hands to his ears to shut
out the voice and curled his body into a ball.  No, he wasn't
listening.  It was not his father's voice.  He didn't know who it was,
but it wasn't his father.  His father loved him, protected him.  Was
there for him no matter what.  His father and his sister...
     He could see them.  His father, his hair no longer dark, his face
no longer showed the vigor of youth for now his hair was white and his
face was lined, both of which showed that the yahrens were creeping up
upon him.  No longer was he that young idealistic warrior that Crisdean
remembered from his childhood. Crisdean remembered running down the
path to greet his father when he would come home for leave...  NO! It
was for a visit.  His father served the King.  That was it.  He served
the King, so he had to stay at the castle of the monarch, but he would
come home often.  Crisdean felt a warmth steal over that he had not
felt since he was a small child.  Warmth of love and protection, of
safety.  Everything was going to be fine for his father would take care
of it.  His father always took care of him and his sister.  Yes, that
was how it was.  He could see Athena...  
     NOOOOOOOO!!!!!  Crisdean felt the pain go through his body like a
shock of lightning as his mind screamed.  Pain!!!  Such severe pain!! 
No!!  Not Athena... Shanea.  That was his sister's name, Shanea. 
Crisdean covered his eyes to try to block out the images that flashed
before his eyes.  No his sister long curly dark hair and her blue eyes,
but the images that swam before Crisdean was of two women who looked
surprisingly alike.  He tried separating them and they just kept
merging together. 
     "Apollo..."
     "Crisdean..."
     "Apollo..."
     "Crisdean..."
     The melodic voices merged and separated, then merged again.  No,
he was Crisdean!!  He was *not* Apollo!!!  The image changed and he saw
a beautiful young woman with blue eyes and lustrous dark hair.  A
female version of himself except for his own green eyes.  He was the
only one who had the green eyes.  Neither Athena or Zac did... 
     Crisdean doubled over as he saw the image of Athena clearly with
Zac at her side.  Not Shanea.  Both of them were looking at him
indulgently, but their natural impatience showed in their expressions. 
No one could ever mistake the three of them for anything than what they
were - siblings.  He was the oldest, the one who had to play 'bib'
brother and protect his younger sister and brother.  No!  Where was
Shanea.  
     "Apollo, are you going to go with us or not?"  Athena asked as she
folded her arms across her chest, looking at him with a stern
expression that meant she wanted a straight answer.
     "Why do I have to go with the two of you?  You are both adults
now, no matter what Father or Mother think.  You don't need me to
chaperone the two of you."  Crisdean could hear himself say, but he
looked so different, sitting on an unfamiliar chair in an unfamiliar
room.  Where was he?
     The images faded as he heard the name again.  The name that he did
not want to claim.
     "Apollo..."
     That voice.  That voice.  The voice that takes command and give
reassurance.  The voice that told him that he would not leave him, that
he was always there for his son.  His child.  He was here for him, just
as he promised.  The voice that made him feel safe, loved and secure.
     'He'll come!  You can be sure of it!' The malevolent voice was
back, screaming loudly, the tone almost piercing.  Crisdean felt the
fear that had disappeared return full force.  'He'll come for his son,
mark my words, and then you can have your precious fleet and Adama. 
I'll get the battlestar to rule my planet from and to conquer others.
You have no need for it and you promised!  It was part of our bargain!'
     No, he was Crisdean, no...  He felt as though his mind was
twisting and turning.  The pain was beginning to return and his ears
were ringing from the high-pitched voice.  Faint but indelible images
ran across his mind.  Home.  A blonde woman smiling at him from the
doorway of a large house, which was nothing like he had seen here on
Draconia.  People running, answering a loud klaxon.  A blonde haired
man smiling at him with a dark skinned man standing beside him.  And
the white haired man... but not the familiar figure of Brannigan, with
his sword at his side.  This man, dressed in dark clothes stood tall,
regally on a platform.  Crisdean looked around his surroundings that
were only in his mind, in his memories. 
     "Apollo..."  a voice called
     "No."  Crisdean whimpered.  
     "There's my baby boy!"  The blonde woman was back, her arms
outstretched, ready to take him in them, enfold him in the warmth of
her embrace.  Her familiar perfume filled his senses.  "I love you,
Apollo."
     "Apollo..."
     "I love you, Apollo..."
     "No, my name is Crisdean!"  He covered his ears, hoping to block
out the sound of the name that he didn't want to claim.  That he didn't
want to be.  "Apollo..."
     "I love you Apollo." Another female voice, softer and different
from the other one broke though his mind.  
     "Help me."  Crisdean cried.  "Help me."
     "I love you.  I will be here for you."  She said quietly. 
Crisdean strained to see the image of the woman whose voice was so
soothing, but he saw only a blurred image, nothing clear.  
     Suddenly he was on a dance floor facing a woman dressed in a
beautiful flowing dress, her reddish brown hair fell over her
shoulders, her eyes sparkled as she smiled at him.  He felt his
breathing stop and his heart race as he looked into her face, a face
that he loved more than he could express.  
     "Are you jealous?"  she asked, innocently with a slightly pleased
smile on her face. 
     He felt everything change then.  He felt anger wash over him, but
why he felt that anger he didn't know why.  And that anger was not
directed at the woman in front of him, but at his own self, for feeling
as he did for her.  Why could he not tell her?  Why did her words cause
such a reaction in him?  Yes, he was jealous - terribly jealous and he
needed to admit that before she made the mistake of her life with HIM. 
Crisdean looked over at the table across the floor and saw the image
that he both hated and feared for HE was trying to take Crisdean's
whole world away from him.  He was trying to take his soul and his
reason for living when there had been a time that he had not wanted to
live.  Not wanted to continue on...
     "Apollo..." The woman looked at him strangely, but her image faded
and was replaced by the darkness that he was trapped in now.  
     The voice that he heard next chilled him to his very soul, for he
had heard this voice before.  The hatred he felt, the anger that he
felt just microns before returned, but behind the anger was fear which
was threatening to wash over him with a vengeance. ''He'll be the
downfall of his father!  Adama will do anything for his son, but what
he will find is just a shell of a son!  The beautiful Sheba, my
princess, will be totally and completely mine!  I will have her soul as
my own and completely finish off Apollo, for he will watch her turn
from him to another!  He can only stand by and watch it all happen,
completely powerless to save her.  Starbuck will have to die for he
will not follow me willingly, but the others will fall into my hands
eagerly like overly ripe fruit falling from the tree into waiting
hands."
     'NO!' Crisdean's mind screamed desperately.  'IBLIS!  IBLIS!'
     A flood of memories threatened to overwhelm Apollo as the
realization of who was at work here hit him full force.  The pain in
his head rose to an excruciating level. 
     "My name is Apollo!"  He gripped the sides of his head as he tried
to stand, screaming for anyone to hear, but one in particular.  "My
name is APOLLO!!!  You can't have them, Iblis!!!
     The laughter rang out, mocking him as he fought the pain. 'They
will be mine Apollo and you're the one to bring them to me.  It is your
entire fault and *you* are the cause of the pain that they will suffer
and endure.  Their souls will be mine.  All mine and you are powerless. 
You pathetic mortal!!!  How dare you challenge ME!!!'  The voice
shouted, resounding over and over again in his head. 'This is YOUR
fault,  Apollo.  All your fault.  Your fault that they are mine... your
fault...  You caused this.  All your fault...
     "Apollo..."  The reassuring voice returned.
     "Father..."  Apollo whispered as he slowly became aware of his
surroundings and continued to stare at the flames and feel the pain in
his mind. 
     "What did he say?"  Asked Athena, her mind slowly becoming aware
of the present, and hope rising in her voice. 
     Adama too looked hopeful.  "Apollo...I'm here, son.  I'm right
here.  Talk to me." 
     Apollo slowly looked up at his father, recognition for an instant
flashed in his eyes, even a little bit of happiness, then suddenly, it
was all gone and the mindless terror that had gripped him for so long
took over again.
     "NO!! RUN!!  You...have...to...get...away!" Apollo jumped up
screaming at the top of his lungs, grabbing the hilt of the sword with
his free hand as he jumped up.  He had to get them out of here!!  "HE*
was coming!!  *HE* would kill all that Apollo loved most!!  "GET AWAY! 
He's coming!"
     Adama, shock numbing his mind, fell back away from Apollo onto the
hard ground, for a brief instant, afraid of his own son.  He felt Sheba
and Starbuck grab his arms to help him quickly to his feet away from
the possible danger that Apollo and his madness created, but Adama was
frantic as he felt his feet come back under him so he could stand. 
What was happening to his son?  Apollo looked wild, terrified,
frightened. Almost mad, the sun's rays that made it through the trees
reflected off the shiny blade of the sword that was in Apollo's hand.
     "APOLLO!"  Adama shouted, wanting to get through to his son. 
Desperation and fear gripped his heart as he watched Apollo spin around
in circles, wide-eyed as he looked all around him, searching for some
thing or some one, but what or who?  "Apollo, listen to me!!!  Who is
coming?  Who do we have to get away from?"
     "Apollo!"  Starbuck shouted, pointing his laser unsteadily at his
best friend, fearful.  Starbuck did not want to shoot Apollo unless it
was the only way.  Starbuck quickly glanced down for the third time,
triple checking that the setting was definitely on light stun.  What in
the name of all that was holy was happening to Apollo?  The fear that
Starbuck saw there ion Apollo's features was something that he had
never seen in all the yahrens that the two men had been friends. 
     Apollo turned his attention to Starbuck, his green eyes wild,
almost insane.  Starbuck had to be made to understand!  He had to
listen, to be made to understand what he was facing.  The danger. 
"Starbuck, you have to get out of here.  Iblis is going to kill you and
I can't STOP him!!!"
     "IBLIS!!"  Starbuck yelped.  
     "You have to leave.  It's all my fault and I'm so sorry, Starbuck. 
I didn't want this to happen, but I can't stop it.  This is all...
my... FAULT!!!"  Apollo pleaded, as he looked around the clearing
frantically for any indication that Iblis was anywhere near.  "He's
going to take over the fleet.  I tried.  I really, really tried.  He
came at us.  No warning.  Ships the like I've never seen before were
suddenly there.  They killed Talmar and Corrine.  There was nothing I
could do it was so fast" Apollo got close to Starbuck and whispered,
"Then they had me.  I tried to outrun them, but they had me.  The
pain...."  Apollo tore his gaze from Starbuck's and looked down at his
scarred wrists, seeing the glow of the hot metal that had been applied
there.  He whimpered as Adama drew a quick breath as he saw the extent
of the scarring on Apollo's wrist. 
     Suddenly they could all hear laughter - sick, demented laughter. 
It came from all around them.  The sound of Apollo's painful cries made
them turn their attention back to him and they watched helplessly as
Apollo grabbed his head with both hands, the sword still firmly in his
grip.  "The pain.!!!  Make it stop!!!"
     "Apollo, listen to me, son.  Put down the weapon that you have in
your hands.  I will help you.  Dear God, Apollo, put down the sword and
let me help you!"  Adama pleaded with Apollo, not wanting to rush
Apollo in case it spooked him.
     "Commander!"  Starbuck shouted, fearful for both Adama and Apollo. 
Iblis, he should have known that son of a devil was involved in this. 
That was the only explanation because of the total insanity of the
situation.  Starbuck had to push his thoughts of the evil man from his
mind, since his first priority was subduing Apollo, making sure that he
didn't hurt anyone.  He was acting crazy and there was no way of
telling what his friend would do in the state he was in.  Fear and
terror were in total control.  "Don't get too close to him!"
     Apollo turned, his eyes looked imploringly at his father, the pain
still written clearly on his face.  Feeling the need of a child to have
his father's arms around him again and let him protect him, Apollo sank
slowly to his knees, his hands gripping the sides of his head, the
sword drooping dangerously in his grasp.  Apollo was tired of fighting,
so very tired.
     "Father, make it stop."  Apollo said pleadingly, his voice
sounding like a small child's.  Adama felt the need to hold and comfort
his son, and it didn't matter to him that his little baby boy was now a
full grown adult.  His son needed comfort and his father's protection
since he was unable to protect himself.  Especially from an evil that
was as powerful as Iblis.  
     "Oh, God."  Starbuck said as he started towards Apollo from one
side, as Adama started towards his son from the front.  Cassie looked
quickly for a clear spot to inject the tranquilizer into as she slowly
moved herself into position.  She knew that Apollo needed their help
more than anything else at that micron.  He was totally out of control
and Cassie was sure that just one slight movement would make Apollo
slip over the edge.  She had to get this tranquilizer into his system
then they would take it from there.
     In an instant, Apollo watched amazed as the image of his father
change, swimming in front of him, changing...  moving... forming into a
very hated image.  Iblis!  It wasn't his father in front of him.  It
was Iblis.  He had fooled him!!
     "No, Iblis,"  Apollo's voice ground out as he slowly lowered his
hands, his grip firming up on the hilt of the weapon.  "You're not
going to fool me again!  I see you!"  Apollo swiftly sprang to his feet
with the gleaming sword in his hand.  The laugh maniacally filled the
air again and Adama, falling back in his shock and surprise, watched in
absolute horror as his son raised the sword in his hand to strike him
dead.
     With the suddenness of a nova, Athena felt as though the universe
finally came into sharp, clear focus and with that realization, she
almost wished that she were living some crazy nightmare that she would
wake up from in just centons, but she knew better.  Her blue eyes wide,
her mouth agape, she watched her own brother as he slowly lifted the
shiny metal sword to use it to strike down his intended victim, their
own father.  Athena felt the scream that she wanted to let out catch in
her throat, almost chocking her.  She knew she had to react quickly or
Apollo was going to kill their father.  Trying to convince herself that
this was all really happening, Athena reached over to her backpack to
pull out her laser. 
     "Apollo!"  Athena screamed as she pulled her laser out of her
pack, and turned, firing at the barren ground between her father and
her brother.  Athena saw Sheba and Boomer follow suit out of the corner
of her eyes, but a sudden movement made her look as Starbuck ran the
few steps that separated him from his commander, pushing the stunned
man out of harm's way as the laser fire hit the ground with a loud
crack.  
     Starbuck looked back from his position on the hard ground as
Apollo fell back away from his father and Starbuck, away from the
blasts that landed in front of him.  Starbuck was not sure what was
going to happen next, but he knew that he was going to have to be
prepared for the worse case scenario.  The fact that Iblis was involved
caused a fire that burned into Starbuck's soul and memory.  That being
was one that Starbuck would  never, ever forget for as long as he
lived.  He had caused Starbuck more pain and heartache than anyone or
anything else in Starbuck's life and Starbuck was not going to stand
for it happening again. As Starbuck rose to his feet, Starbuck's mind
replayed Apollo's words over and over.  Starbuck had no reason to doubt
Apollo's words about what happened to him, about the fact that Iblis
was behind everything that had happened.  Starbuck watched as Apollo
slowly turned his body back towards them, his face unreadable, as he
seemed as though he was trying to recover from the sound and light of
the laser blast.
     A scraping sound made Starbuck look down at the man who was slowly
raising himself off the hard ground.  Starbuck reached out a hand to
help the man to his feet as the Commander brushed the dirt off his
hands.  Standing a bit unsteadily on his own feet, Adama watched
Apollo's actions with uncertainty, still not believing what had just
happened to him.  As he watched Apollo struggle, Adama made a moved to
go to his son to help him, but Starbuck put a restraining hand on
Adama's arm.  Adama looked over at the man who was as close to him as
one of his own children, the mask of indifference that he usually wore
while he was on duty on the bridge disappeared and the concern, shock
and disbelief that he felt at what just happened showed itself clearly
on his features.
     "Starbuck, Apollo was going to...'"  Adama's voice sounded
incredulous.
     "He didn't see you, Commander.  What he saw was Iblis' image where
you stood," replied Starbuck.  "and that's who he was getting ready to
strike at."
     Both men turned their attention back to Apollo as he tried to pull
himself together, the madness still reflected in his eyes, the pain in
his head rising painfully as Apollo looked over at Starbuck and the
laughing visage of Iblis that melded right before his eyes back to the
familiar form of his father.  The realization that the image of Iblis
was just another of the evil man's tricks struck Apollo like the blast
of a laser, as did the realization of what he had almost one - he had
almost killed his father.  His father!  A man he loved and respected
more than anyone else!
     "Father?"  Apollo felt his voice catch in his throat as he looked
over at his father standing at his best friend's side.  The emotional
pain that Apollo's actions caused clearly there in the older man's
eyes, as the guilt of what Apollo had nearly done overwhelmed his
tortured soul.  "Oh my god, *what have I done?*"  The rawness of the
shock and horror in Apollo's soft voice sent chills up and down the
spines of everyone present. 
     Apollo averted his gaze from his father to the ground, his eyes
wide and filling with unshed tears.  Hurt, remorse, self recrimination,
disbelief of what he had nearly done played with across his mind as he
looked down at the shiny, cold piece of metal that he held weakly in
his hands, the point lightly scraping the dirt.  Apollo fell to his
knees before his father and Starbuck, his attention still on the shiny
blade that caught the rays of the sunlight that filtered through the
trees, but captured none of its warmth.  Apollo felt as though he was
so very cold, that even the warming rays of the sun would not be able
to melt the icy coldness that overtook him, almost numbing his body. 
Apollo felt no warmth, no happiness, nothing.  The love that he felt
for his father, his friends, his younger sister was gone, non-existent
and he felt vacant, empty, devoid of all emotions - almost as though he
had died.
     Cautiously, Adama took a small step towards his oldest, his voice
soft, gentle, but the pleading note in it was unmistakable.  "Apollo,
just put down the sword and let us help you."  Apollo did not respond
to Adama's voice.  Not a blink, not even a small nod of his head. 
Apollo continued to stare at the weapon in his hands, remained kneeling
on the ground.  "Apollo, can you hear me?  Put down the weapon, Apollo
so we can help you.  Apollo, please."
     Apollo heard the haunting sound of a soft laugh in his mind as he
continued to kneel there on the ground, feeling nothing, hearing
nothing else, but that laugh.  Where it was coming from he did not
know, but it was just so, soft.  He couldn't even tell if it was the
laugh of a man or a woman.  He tried to ignore it, push it out of his
mind, but it wanted to be heard.  The volume rose slowly in his head
the more he ignored it till he couldn't ignore it any more.  The
laughter was mocking, hateful, and almost had a 'pleased' note to it. 
With the laughter, Apollo felt the throb of a headache start to make
itself known in his head.  Apollo felt his arm twitch along with a
slow, almost burning sensation on his wrists.  As it seemed to burn
more and more, hotter and hotter, Apollo heard a voice break into his
thoughts, or rather his lack of thoughts.  It was a voice he knew, or
at least thought he knew.  A voice that sounded soft, comforting, but
seemed to hold a note in it that he was not sure he recognized.  
     With a swiftness that was almost instantaneous, Apollo found
himself standing in the bright sunlight, feeling the warmth of the
sun's rays warm his skin as he closed his eyes to the brightness of the
sun.  The heavy clothes he had just had on were gone, replaced by a
lightweight clothing that permitted the warm breeze to pass through and
touch his skin.  He could taste the unmistakable taste of salt in the
air, as he heard the crash of waves hitting the shore.  Apollo opened
his eyes and looked out upon the scene before him. The warmth of the
wet sand pushed up between his toes as he looked down at his bare feet,
then at the white pants and tunic that he wore now.  
     Apollo heard the cry of seabirds as he looked up into the clear
blue sky to watch the white birds soar above his head.  He lifted a
hand to shield his eyes against the unaccustomed brightness of the sun
as he continued to look at the birds, their wings outstretched, gliding
on the currents up there in the sky.  A shrilly cry made him look back
towards  the crystal blue waters of the sea as several creature that
looked like a caprices bottlenose dolphin leapt from the sea.  Apollo
smiled at the antics of the lively creatures.  They had been a favorite
of his during his childhood, when he and his mother would walk along
the beach near their home.  Apollo wanted to get closer to see them
clearly.  He walked further down the wet sands, into the warmth of the
seawater, his eyes never leaving the playful antics of the creatures
before him.  They made him feel something - happiness, maybe, but at
least he was feeling something.  
     Apollo walked a little further out into the sea, the water
reaching almost to his knees.  He felt the urge to dive into the warm
water, to glide through it and revel in its warmth.  Feel the serenity
and the peace that he felt as a boy growing up in Caprica -- the
carefree days of childhood when he had no worries, no cares, no
responsibilities.  Where he could do what he wanted, go where he
wanted, swim with the dolphins till his heart's content.  He didn't
have to make reports, deal with the duties of a flight commander aboard
a battlestar.  Apollo winced, then reached up and touched his temple as
he felt a sharp pain there that did not go away.  
     Images flashed through his mind of meetings with his pilots. 
Meeting with his father, the Commander regarding staffing problems,
flight reports and other problems.  Reports and more reports along with
other paperwork that he had to do.  It took up so much of his time. 
Cadet training reports from the Fleet Academy, looking over service
reports from other divisions, assigning experienced pilots to train
with cadets, then reading *their* reports concerning their prospects. 
Would they pass the grade.  Like himself, like Starbuck, like Sheba...
like Talmar and Corrine.
     The pain increased to an excruciating level in his head, but the
sharper pain was in his heart and soul.  Two people were dead because
he was not prepared!!  He let his guard down!!  He was too relaxed and
let his guard down.  Apollo did not expect anything like they ran into. 
Nothing could have prepared them for the alien craft they encountered
nor the skills of the alien pilots, which was a hell of a sight better
than two green cadets.  Apollo cried out from the pain stabbing though
his head, his hands gripping the sides of his head because it felt like
it was going to explode.  Apollo tried to look out and capture the
serenity he had felt just moments before watching the dolphins, but he
couldn't find it.  What he did find was the memory of his father,
smiling at him warmly.  His father.  Father.  Oh God!! He had tried to
kill his father!  He, Apollo, just tried to kill his father!
     The guilt and remorse of his actions weighed on Apollo's
conscious.  Suddenly, without warning the voices started again in his
head, more recriminating than ever before.
     "Your fault."
     "All your fault!"
     "You tried to kill your own father!
     "A person you professed to love!"
     "Your own father!"
     "Your father has always loved you - done everything for you!"
     "And this is how you repay him!"
     "Is this how you treat people you profess to love?"
     "Are you going to next try to kill Starbuck?  How about
Cassiopeia?"
     "Or Boomer?  Or your sister, Athena?"
     "How about Sheba?"
     "You're the cause of all of this!"
     "This is all your fault, Apollo!"
     Over and over again they shouted at him and he had no where to
run, no where to hide.  They had found his hiding place and destroyed
it, now he was out in the open, where the voices could find him.  Where
they could condemn him.  Everything was his fault and no one else's!! 
The deaths of Talmar and Corrine.  They died because of him -- Because
Iblis wanted him, only him.  Apollo.  Not the others.  Plus he tried to
kill his own father - the man that he loved and admired most of all. 
The voices were right - what if he tried to kill Starbuck, or Boomer or
Cassie?  What about Athena, his sister?  Or Sheba, the woman he loved. 
But... if he left, if he got away... 
     Starbuck was slowly, cautiously getting closer to his best friend,
close enough to bring him down.  Starbuck's heart was racing as the
thought crossed his mind of what if he missed?  What if Apollo got away
from him?  What would happen to Apollo then?  What would happen to
them?  Apollo was so unstable right now that he was just as much a
danger to himself as he was to them.  Thankfully they did not have to
deal with the added problems of Brannigan and Shanea for they were
sleeping like babies, thanks to one of Cassie's little miracle drugs. 
Apollo himself had been quiet and still for so long, Starbuck sort of
wondered what had happened to him.  One micron he was kneeling there,
pain and confusion on his face, in his voice and the next he was almost
as quiet and serine as a pilgrim of the Kobollian sect.
     Starbuck was hoping that Apollo would remain that way for a few
microns longer, but it was evident the very next micron that he was not
going to get his wish.  Starbuck was just about able to grab Apollo so
Cassie could swiftly move forward to inject him, when suddenly with the
sword in one hand, Apollo sprang to his feet looking straight into
Starbuck's blue eyes, saying desperately,  "I have to save you from
Iblis...and from me!"  With that parting comment, Apollo ran swiftly
into the dense woods faster than anyone could have thought possible in
a mindless, frantic run.
     "APOLLO!"  Adama shouted as he took off after his son, fear
gripping his heart like it was being held in a vise grip.  He had to
stop him!  Apollo didn't know what he was doing!  He had been injured
and was not fully recovered!  Adama had to save his son!.
     "Frack!" shouted Starbuck angrily as he took off after Apollo with
Boomer and Sheba close behind on his heels.  Athena and Cassie brought
up the rear. 
     "Apollo!" screamed Sheba.  "Stop!  Stop!"  Sheba ran for all she
was worth.  She never realized how fast Apollo was, but she had to keep
up with him.  There was no telling what could happen to him out here. 
If Iblis was out here waiting for just this moment, just this
opportunity to finish the job that he didn't complete last time. 
Mindless of the branches and twigs that tore at her arms, legs and
face, Sheba sprinted past Boomer and Starbuck, catching sight of the
sun reflecting off the sword in Apollo's hand as she tried to catch up
with him.  
     Starbuck and Boomer raced to keep up with Apollo, but they lost
sight of him in the increasingly dense woods.  Stumbling over rocks and
fallen branches as they went, they would catch a glimpse of the sun
reflecting off the metal sword in their friend's hand, but trying to
dodge all the obstacles slowed them down too much.  Soon, there was
nothing more to see.  Apollo had been swallowed up in the green sensity
of the forest.  
     "APOLLO!" screamed Starbuck, his voice frantic.  Breathing
heavily, Starbuck looked around in all directions for something,
anything to indicate the direction Apollo ran in.  Boomer was beside
Starbuck, bent over with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch
his breath.  
     "Anything?"  Boomer asked, in between breaths.
     Starbuck shook his head.  "No, nothing."  Starbuck replied,
frustrated.  "FRACK!!  If Iblis is behind all of this..." 
     "You doubt what Apollo said?"
     "No, no I don't.  The fact that Iblis is behind this explains
everything.  The mysterious craft that got the better of three pilots,
the fact that this planet is so primitive in its technology, but was
able to shoot down three vipers.  Everything!  Damn, Boomer, what if he
runs into Iblis?"  That bastard will destroy Apollo in the state he's
in."
     "Then we're going to have to search even harder to find him and
run interference with Iblis."  Boomer replied, straightening up as he
caught his breath.
     Adama caught up to them a few centons later with Cassie and Athena
at right behind him.  Adama looked around the dense green forest,
straining his eyes to try to see beyond the dark brown of the tree
trunks and the forest.  To maybe catch a glimpse of his son.  Seeing
nothing he tersely asked Starbuck and Boomer,  "Where did he go?"
     "I don't know.  We lost him,"  replied Boomer.
     "Where's Sheba?" asked Cassie, looking around for her friend, but
not seeing her anywhere.  
     "She got ahead of us."  Boomer replied. "When we lost sight of
Apollo, we also lost sight of Sheba."  Starbuck replied, still trying
to see something out there that would provide a clue to what direction
they both went.  But the what Starbuck heard next chilled him and all
that were with him to their very souls.  
     "It's of no consequence." A smooth voice said malevolently.  "I
can find them easily enough." 
     "Iblis!"  Starbuck almost shouted as he turned to face the being
he had hated and despised for so long.  
     Adama swiftly spun to face the being that tried to take over the
fleet almost two yahrens ago.  Iblis.  "You are here."  Adama spat out
coldly.  The Commander squared his shoulders and strode angrily,
forcefully to stand in front of the white clad being.  "What have you
done to my son?"
     "You should not be so concerned about Apollo, Adama.  You should
all should be more concerned about yourselves."
     "Where is my son, Iblis?  What have you done to him?" 
     Iblis laughed as he replied almost boastingly,  "Thane did such a
wonderful job on Apollo, don't you think?  Oh, you can rest assured
that he never broke or turned against you.  No matter how many bones
Thane broke or how much pain was inflicted on him with fire and liquid
metal, he remained silent about the fleet, about the Galactica.  About
all of you.  He never even cried out in pain, not a whimper, until the
hot metal was poured over his bare wrists, but he paid a high price for
that silence.  Your son buried everything into the deepest recesses of
his mind.  He brought on his own amnesia.  He hid his thoughts from me
behind a wall that surprisingly I could not surmount, but in return for
his silence, my minions drove him to the brink of madness with guilt
and remorse.  The final trigger was when he saw you, Starbuck and you,
Athena in the village.  I knew that you would not leave without
searching for him.  So predictable, and I did not have to do anything
but sit back and let Thane do his worst to Apollo.  And don't expect
any intervention from the Great Powers, for I have done this by all of
the rules that they bind me by.  They can not even interfere with my
plans now"  Iblis smiled that condescending smile of his as he watched
Boomer and Starbuck stand, the hate for Iblis in their eyes and the
lasers in their hands pointed directly at him.
     "Go ahead," he urged.  "Shoot me.  You can't hurt me and you know
that, don't you?  You should remember Starbuck what happened last time
that you fired your useless weapon at me." 
     Boomer fired at the image as Starbuck lowered his weapon, fully
remembering the visage that he saw of Iblis as the laser's light passed
through him.  Again, just as before, the true image of Iblis' ugliness
came to light just for an instant, then faded back once again to the
image they all knew.  Starbuck shuttered, while the others just stood
there, shocked by what they had just witnessed.
     "You've confronted me before, Starbuck, back on that planet, but
the Great Powers saved you that time.  Apollo sacrificed his at day to
save Sheba, but the Great Powers interfered again, restoring his life
to him.  I am not so foolish as to try to physically harm him myself,
but my minions did the job even surpassing my own expectations.  This
time, Apollo will beg for death after he watches all of you suffer very
painful deaths or, "Iblis turned and looked at Cassie and Athena,
"become part of my realm.  And no matter how she fights it, Sheba will
be mine in the end.  She will willingly give her soul to me to save
Apollo, but after she joins me, I will terminate Apollo's life, or
maybe I will just continue to let him suffer for all eternity."
     "You must not have learned very much from your last encounter with
us, Iblis.  I will never serve you or become part of your realm." 
Athena spat at him, trying to keep control of her emotions, but not
doing so successfully.  She had to help Apollo, but she was not sure
just how she was going to do it.
     "Then you will die."  Iblis smiled confidently but his voice was
so deadly calm, totally unemotional, then after a moment, he chuckled,
slightly shaking his head.  "Athena, least you forget I can read your
thoughts as easily as you read a book?  Do you think that you, a slip
of a mortal girl can save your brother? You need to understand and
accept that he is gone.  His mind is totally and irrevocably gone. 
Even if you were somehow able to defeat me, Apollo is beyond saving. 
His mind has now slipped over into the abyss of madness.  He will never
be the same person again and he will never be the brother that you knew
before."
     "You lie."  Athena calmly replied, the hate she felt for Iblis
full audible in her voice.  "Apollo has the strength still in him to
fight you, Iblis.  He will defeat you and he will be as he was.  I
don't believe your lies."
     Silently, Adama watched his daughter calmly challenge the evil
embodied, a laser that was useless against this being in her hand at
her side.  At that moment, he felt a sense of pride in his daughter,
for she was standing up to a being that could destroy her with just a
thought, and she was doing it with amazing conviction in her belief in
her older brother.  Adama felt his heart twist a bit more for he did
not know how much more he could take.  Apollo was out there somewhere,
battling a war within himself with guilt and remorse, his mind
bordering on the brink of total madness, and now his only daughter
stood before him defiantly challenging Iblis.  Adama had always been
prepared to give his own life for the lives of his beloved wife or for
any of his children.  If necessary, he would willing step in-between
Iblis and Athena to save his daughter from certain death, but Adama was
a bit surprised when he looked at Iblis' expression and saw a measure
of wonder on his face.
     "You are a strong one, girl.  Just a mere slip of a girl, but you
are strong."  Then in an instant, the wonder of his expression was
gone, his face showed anger and his voice became hard and cold.  "But
then your brother was strong too and look at him now.  Look at how he
runs and hides from me, afraid to face me because he knows that he can
not defeat me.  I am stronger and more powerful in mind and spirit than
he will ever be.  I will destroy him.  No, I will not make the same
mistake twice and kill him, but I will make him suffer at my hand, my
will.  He will watch everything he loves and cherishes die painfully
before his very eyes.  You, young woman, can be driven to madness just
like he has been.  I could even kill you if that is my desire."
     "You can kill the body, Iblis, but not the human spirit.  You have
not even begun to touch Apollo's spirit or his soul."  Athena said
almost coldly, firmly standing her ground.  She knew at this moment
that she was in the mental battle of her young life.  Athena had
listened to her brother after the first encounter with Iblis.  She had
listened to him as he had told her of his suspicions of the man, how he
had gone to the planet with their father's blessing to find out the
truth about the fleet's so-called Savior.  Apollo told her that it was
there in that ship that had crashed on the planet's surface.  The
occupants had made sure that everyone who saw through Iblis deception
about the physical danger of the wreck, the so-called dangerous raydion
levels, would know the truth of the charming man's true calling. 
Apollo called him Mephistopheles, Diabolis, the Prince of Darkness. 
Athena just called him the Devil, for that is what she felt he was. 
The total embodiment of evil.  Athena was not surrendering to this man
or being, whatever he truly was.  She felt in her heart that Apollo
could be saved, that he needed her, and Athena has always believed in
her brother, with every part of her being.  "That part angers you,
doesn't it, Count?"
     Athena walked slowly around the man clad in white, keeping out of
his physical reach.  She watched him for any reaction to her words. 
And she was not disappointed.  
     "I'm not sure if I know what you mean, Athena?"  The count
continued smiling, but Athena could see his eyes harden, that showed
that he was losing that calm that he showed to one and all.
     "It angers you that you have not been able to even come close to
possessing Apollo's soul.  That's what you want from each of us.  We
have to give ourselves *freely* to your care.  In other words, we have
to surrender to your will.  We have to agree to follow you, to obey
you, to believe in you, but I don't believe in you, Count.  I didn't
believe you when you appeared to us the first time, and I certainly
don't believe you now."
     "I can easily take your life from you, girl.  Don't you understand
that?"
     "But that would defeat your purpose.  You need our souls.  You
need us to lay down willingly to follow you.  You want... no, you
*need* Apollo to freely give you his soul.  I honestly don't believe
that you want to kill him.  No, his soul, his giving of his mortal soul
to you freely would give you too much satisfaction.  But it isn't going
to happen, not now, not ever, not for any reason. He won't give it to
you to save me, our father, his friends, anyone, because he knows what
will happen.  He knows the worth of his soul.  I know my brother,
Iblis.  I believe in him.  You have not defeated him."
     "You have more belief in him than he does in himself."  
     "You've only gotten in the first punch and that was by using the
element of surprise against him.  He was not expecting you, but he will
get back up.  Apollo has so many people who love and care about him and
that's another thing, Iblis.  You can't kill love."
     "Love can die like anything else."  Iblis snarled as his face
hardened.  Athena watched that change in his demeanor and a revelation
struck her.  
     "Love."  Athena said, quietly, almost to herself.  "Love.  That's
it, that's the key.  *That's* what you desire most.  That's what drives
you.  Love.  You want *us* to love you, adore you, worship you at your
feet and give you everything we have ever been or will ever will be,
but that is also the key to your downfall, Count."  Athena looked him
straight in the eyes.  "Love.  Our love for each other.  It is strong
and it is powerful and all of the powers that you possess are not
stronger than that love.  Your so-called miraculous powers are
absolutely nothing compared to the single emotion called love.  You can
kill our human bodies, and we will cease to exist here on this plain of
existence, but that does not mean that the love that we have for each
other is dead because it's not.  It is just out of your grasp... for
eternity."
     Iblis became livid at her words.  "You insolent girl,"  he ground
out as Athena continued to look at him defiantly.
     Adama felt like he was watching a vid that was moving in too slow
of motion as Iblis drew back his hand in a move that would strike down
Athena, punishment for her defiance of him.  All the Commander's mind
could do was scream *NO!* over and over again for the words would not
leave his mouth.  They had all stood there in silence just watching the
scene play itself out with Athena and Iblis.  Adama knew that now as he
watch Iblis draw back his hand that he had to move, he had to save his
daughter from the inevitable, but in Adama's heart he knew he could not
nor would not reach her in time.  If he just happened to succeed in
saving Athena from that death blow, then another attempt would be made,
and more than likely, the blow would hit true.  
     Adama was aware of Starbuck, Boomer and Cassie watching with a
mixture of mute fascination and indescribable horror at the scene
before them.  Starbuck knew what was going to happen next and would be
damned if he would lose another person that he cared about to Iblis. 
He quickly started to move towards Athena so he could protect her from
the impending strike of Iblis.  It was happening all over again, just
as it did with Apollo in what seemed now as being such a short time
ago, but Starbuck knew as he saw Iblis hand come down and the bright
almost blinding ball of light and energy was released from his hand,
that Starbuck would be too late.  A mournful cry wrenched itself from
Starbuck as he tried vainly to cover so much ground in so little time. 

     As Iblis laughed gleefully at his handiwork, as the bolt of
Athena's death covered the distance between demon and young woman, a
ray of extremely bright light broke through, blinding the demon and his
victims alike.  Athena gasped as a gleaming sword appeared suddenly
between Athena and the powerful bolt, the ring that resounded around
them of the energy ball hit the metal of the sword nearly deafened t
hem, but the feudal  weapon defected the destructive force into the air
above them where it exploded.  All eyes watched stunned as the sword,
which just wavered there, suspended by an unknown force.  It acted as
though it was on vigilant guard of the young woman, ready to do battle
with the Prince of Darkness if he tried to strike her down again. 
     Adama turned his attention to the man clothed in white and got the
surprise of his life.  Iblis was just standing there with a look of
total horror and disbelief on his face.  He looked at the sword with an
expression that was one that was a mixture of both anger and... fear.
     "NO!"  The Prince of Darkness bellowed to the air around and
above.  "No!!  It is not possible!!  You are dead!! GONE!!!"
     A calm, rock solid voice shattered the silence that remained after
Iblis' outburst.  "Now, now Diabolis.  You know full well that you
cannot kill me."
     Starbuck, Boomer and Cassie watched their mouths agape, their eyes
wide as a figure clothed all in white, wearing a golden crest in the
shape of a lion on his chest stepped out of the woods and into the
light, his identity still unknown, but their heartfelt gratitude was
with this man.  Their hearts suddenly stopped as they stared at the
newcomer, unsure if what they was seeing was really the truth or
another illusion for the man that stood before them was a man that the
three of them already knew.  
     Brannigan...or was it?  
     The three watched in mute fascination, but their expressions spoke
volumes as their eyes shifted from the stranger, to the sword that
floated in the air, keeping its protective stance between the mortal
Athena and immortal Iblis.  Adama, totally confused and equally in awe
of what was happening before him, tried vainly to keep his mind clear
and alert because of the gravity of the situation before him.  The
possibilities of what could and what would happen next was thrown to
the four winds with the entrance of the newcomer and his amazing
weapon.  Adama fought with his intense curiosity -- all the questions
that flashed through his mind, like who was this man?  The weapon that
was suspended in mid air, the weapon that save his daughter from
certain death from her confrontation with Iblis.... it was utterly
amazing.  An overworked word but an apt one at that micron, since
nothing he was seeing seemed REAL to him.  It felt almost like he was
watching a vid of some type.  A surreal feeling  -- nothing seemed real
and yet.... it was.
     Adama glanced over at Boomer and Cassie, somewhat puzzled as to
their reaction to the newcomer, the expressions on their faces made
Adama believe that the two of them possibly KNEW the stranger, but then
also their expressions seemed to show...confusion, disbelief, even awe
of what was happening right before their eyes.  Adama was unsure of
what to think about the man himself, but looking again at their
expressions, he was almost afraid to wonder about the stranger.  Both
of their individual reactions of shock, disbelief and amazement
combined with the added element of Iblis' own reaction of anger,
disbelief and then hatred towards the newcomer was confusing to say the
least.  
     Adama then looked over at Starbuck, who seemed to not be sure of
what exactly was happening before him.  Not sure if he wanted to even
know or understand what has happening.  The Commander placed a hand on
Starbuck's arm, his aged face showing clearly his questions to the
young man.  The aged commander looking for some answers from a person
he knew would not mix words if the situation truly warranted it. 
Starbuck turned and looked at his Commander, his own reaction almost
mirrored that of his friends.  
     "Commander, that's Brannigan, the man I told you about." Starbuck
whispered, almost reverently, but for what reason Adama didn't know. 
Starbuck continued after a centons pause.  "He was the man who was
taking care of Apollo when we found him."
     Adama turned his attention back to the newcomer, seeing him in a
new light with Starbuck's revelation, feeling gratitude towards the man
for taking care of his first born, possibly saving Apollo's life.  But
even his feelings of gratitude towards the man did not alleviate
Adama's apprehension about everything that was happening here.  The
unexpected appearance of Iblis, the strange abilities of the stranger
with his magnificent weapon, the stranger saving Athena's life,
Apollo's medical condition and the fact that he had taken off, driven
by some...guilt of some kind.  
     Adama had dealt with the evil Count Iblis before and was not
particularly looking forward to a repeat encounter, for with Iblis, the
battle was not of power, but of the strength of words, his ability to
persuade the people of the fleet to follow his leadership with his
actions and deeds that benefited them.  Unfortunately that benefit was
also the tie that trapped them into being indebted to the Count.  The
seemingly benevolent man was found to have an ultimate goal for himself
- he didn't just want to loyalty and devotion of the people of the
fleet, he wanted to possess their very souls.  Adama inwardly shivered
at the thought of this...creature possessing his soul or the soul of
one of someone Adama loved.  
     Adama tried to block out the memories of that time when the Count
encountered the fleet.  Over 220 ships full of people who were
desperately looking for something to believe in.  For someone to be
their divine savior.  Food was in short supply, severe rationing was in
effect and that alone did not make Adama too many friends within the
confines of the civilian ships.  The crew on the Galactica was loyal to
their Commander, but Adama had found at that time that even the loyalty
that was expected from a crew person to their commander was wearing
thin and was in short supply.  Then came the man in white, with his
innocent air, his smooth words and confident voice.  Coming aboard on a
ruse, and causing dissension throughout the fleet with his promises of
salvation and a better life if they would follow him.  Blindly. 
Willingly.  The promise that persuaded the Council to give him their
loyalty was the fulfillment of three tests --  one of those being the
capture of Baltar, the greatest traitor in the history of mankind, in
Adama's personal opinion.  Unbelievably Baltar arrived on the
Galactica, under the universal sign of truce, talking about a great
evil, a great enemy that would destroy not just the Galactica and its
fleet, but even the Cylon Empire.  His words sounded almost coated with
madness at that time, but Adama learned in a very short time just how
much truth there was in Baltar's words.  Unlike the council, the people
were more easily swayed with Iblis' promises of a plentiful supply of
food, protection from the Cylons, and the promise of finding them a new
home on which to live.  
     In as many times as Adama tried to push those memories from his
mind, as he stood there mutely watching the interaction between the
Count and the stranger, he found the memories of that time almost
overwhelming him.  Adama was unsure that there was anything that he
could do to stop the smiling man from taking control, the council had
already made Iblis President of the Council.  He was not even sure just
what Iblis was, let alone who he was, but it was the all powerful
Count's fear of the spheres of bright light that had flown at great
speed past the Galactica and throughout the fleet that had been the
clincher for Adama.  The proof that he needed to know that there was
something or someone out there that the Count had angered, that he was
hiding from, and that was out there searching for him to punish him for
breaking their laws, whatever they were.  
     Now here they were, almost in the same situation all over again,
only this time, it was not the spheres of light that bothered, even
angered the Count.  No, it was his evident adverse reaction to the
presence of the man that Starbuck called Brannigan.  Was Brannigan from
the Ship of Lights?  Was he one of the great powers?  Or was he just an
man, not exactly mortal, but one who was able to hold his own against
Iblis.  Adama looked over at Brannigan who just stood there, his eyes
never leaving Iblis', his body stance showed that he was prepared for
whatever Iblis would throw at him, even though Brannigan looked totally
relaxed, with not a care in the world.  He along with Cassie, Athena,
Boomer and Starbuck watched mutely as the man they knew as Brannigan
stepped into the fight.  His tone confidant, his walk assured, dressed
in white and looking ethereal.  Adama watched in amazement as the sword
continued to float between Iblis and his intended victim, Athena.  As a
father, Adama prayed silently that the seemingly frail piece of forged
metal was able to protect his daughter from certain death at Iblis'
hand.  
     The look that crossed Iblis normally benevolent expression was
almost that of hatred as he looked to the being that was his sworn
mortal enemy.
     "This is not your affair, Knight!"
     "Ahhhh, but it is, Diabolis.  Any time that you interfere in the
actions of the mortal world, any time that you threaten an innocent who
has defied you and not given themselves to you freely, it becomes my
'affair,' as you put it."  The Knight stepped forward several paces,
then continued.  "You've lost, Diabolis.  You have lost here, with
these people.  You have lost with this young woman here."  The Knight
waved his hand in Athena's direction.  "Try to strike her down again,
and you will watch as my blade strikes down your power another time."
     "You were destroyed years ago!  This can not be!"  Iblis shouted,
his anger and disbelief showing in his words.
     Brannigan shook his head.  "You know that I'm immortal, just as
you are.  My sword and I have fought for good on every planet in every
dimension since the beginning of time and the fight against you and
your evil minions is a fight that I will never give up.  My orders come
from one higher and holier than you will ever be, so you will have to
fight me to get to them and that is something that you do not want to
do."
     Iblis stood there, seeming to mull over the words of the Knight,
then his expression changed again.  The benevolent smile played at his
lips.  "All right, Knight.  You can have them, for I have still have at
my fingertips two that will give me greater pleasure and more
satisfaction than these five will."
     The Knight stood a little straighter, his face became stern as he
became aware of just who Iblis spoke of.  "You cannot have Apollo and
Sheba, Diabolis."
     "But I can get to them in the wink of an eye where you can not." 
Iblis stated smugly, then as suddenly as he appeared, he disappeared.
     "So you would like to think."  The Knight muttered to the still
air.
     Adama watched in wonder as Brannigan raised his hand and the sword
left its position in front of Athena, returning to his grasp. 
Brannigan gazed at the weapon, his expression one that could be
described as 'pleased,' then he sheathed the sword at his side as he
walked over towards the group.  As the knight stopped in front of
Athena, he smiled an almost fatherly smile as he placed his gentle hand
on her shoulder.
     "Well done, little one.  Even though you were no real match for
Iblis, well not yet anyway, your words had the ring of truth, something
he cannot stand to hear.  Iblis has much to be concerned about when it
comes to you and your brother together.  Between the two of you and
your descendants, you will continue to be a great thorn in his side for
a long time to come."  Brannigan chuckled as a smile slowly came to
Athena's face as she looked at this strange man.
     Adama walked over to Brannigan and asked with something bordering
on awe and wonderment,  "Who are you?"
     Brannigan smiled as he spoke in a paternal tone.  "Adama, I have
been known by many different names by many different races on many
different planets over the span of time, but if your curiosity must be
appeased then look to the Book of the Word.  Look to the passage where
it is talks about the beginning of the great battle between the Lords
of Kobol and the evil ones bent on death and destruction.  In the
passages, a story is told of a great knight, sent from the divine power
of God above to help the lords in their fight for good to prevail."
     The Knight watched as Adama's face clearly showed his recognition
of the passage and the individual Brannigan alluded to. "YOU are the
Knight of the Great Light?"  Adama almost whispered in reverence as he
felt his knees buckle as Adama felt a great urge to kneel before the
most revered man.
     "Guilty.  I was known as that then, and by many other names since
then.  In my existence here on this planet, I am Brannigan, the last of
the Knights of the First Realm.  My sword and my skills are committed
to the service of good King Cedric of the colony of Draconia."
     "You saved my son." Adama simply stated.
     Brannigan nodded.  "I tried to anyway.  In my existence as
Brannigan, I knew that Apollo was someone that was in need of my
protection, and his mental state was...well, lets just say that he was
so very close to the edge then, so physically and mentally depleted. 
Unfortunately, I had my boundaries as to what I could do to intervene
at that time.  I gave Apollo the peace that he craved and sorely needed
at that time.  The unerring support of a father figure when his could
not be there for him.  You and your presence was the key that unlocked
the emotions that he had suppressed through his intense willpower
behind a mental wall to save them.  Iblis almost won this time with
Apollo.  At this time, he is not ready to take Iblis on, face to face,
but in time he will grow in wisdom and power.  Then he will be a force
to be reckoned with.  One that Iblis will not want to confront or deal
with."
     Adama nodded his understanding of the Knight's meaning.  "Where is
Apollo now?  And where is Sheba?"
     "Sheba is a surprisingly determined young woman and her love for
Apollo is an amazing force in itself as is his for her.  Their bond
together is very strong.  Right now her physical presence is all that
stands between Apollo's defeat and Iblis supremacy.  She will need to
gather her courage, overcome her own fear of Iblis and be there as a
protector for Apollo.  If she can do this, she will be able to hold off
Iblis for a while, at least long enough for us to get there and be the
reinforcements.  Sheba does not know it yet, but her presence will be
the anchor to sanity that Apollo holds on to desperately.  But to save
Apollo from the dark abyss, he is going to need all of you - he will
need your love for him, your internal strength and..." The Knight
placed his hand on the hilt of the sword, "My sword at his side.  Guilt
and remorse weigh heavily on his mind and heart.  He does not know that
the fleet is no longer in danger and that you still live without threat
of death.  And, if things were not bad enough, Iblis is on his way."
     "Then what are we waiting for?"  asked Starbuck, feeling a bit of
his old bravado returning to him.  

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

     Sheba was saying a prayer of thanksgiving to the powers above,
then began to pray again, this time that she had the strength to do
what was needed next, whatever that may be.  She had caught up to
Apollo at a great canyon and she was trying desperately to talk to him,
but he just continued to stare blindly at the bottom of the deep
crevice.  So far there was no response of any kind from Apollo, not
even an acknowledgement of her presence, but she knew that he knew she
was here with him.
      The sky was darkening ominously and Sheba felt a chill go up her
spine, one that she had felt many times in her career as a warrior. 
Now she wished for the confidence that she usually felt in the cockpit
of her viper to be with her now.  She was in the fight of her life, for
the soul of the man that meant everything to her.  If she lost this
battle, she would lose Apollo, and she would lose a part of herself
with him.
     The winds were picking up, dust and debris from the ground was
swirling around.  Sheba winced as a piece of dirt landed in her eye,
but she did not dare to reach up to rub her eye.  She was afraid that
even that small distraction could cost her.  If Apollo ventured too
close to the edge of that crevice, that would be the end of him and she
knew that her heart would follow him over if that happened.  As a bolt
of lightning streaked across the sky, Sheba decided to try to speak to
Apollo again.  They had two yahrens of friendship, trust, and love
between them.  She was going to need all that and maybe more to pull
him back to her.
     "Apollo," Sheba said as calmly as she could.  "Look at me."
     No response.  Apollo continued to stare at the canyon floor below. 
Sheba felt a distinctive chill come over her and she wrapped her arms
around herself for just a micron, trying to ward off that chill.
     "LOOK AT ME!" she shouted.  For a moment, Apollo seemed to not
hear her, but then slowly he turned to look at her.  Sheba smiled a
small reassuring smile at him as she held out her hand to him and said
gently,  "Come to me, Apollo.  Come away from the ledge and come to
me."  Apollo hesitated for a micron, then rewarded her with several
steps away from the land's edge, but not close enough to take her hand,
not yet, but it was a beginning.  Sheba smiled fully at him, happy that
she got a small response out of him.  At least it was a sign to her
that she was getting through to him.
     "Yes, Apollo.  Come to me.  Move over here way for the ledge.  I
love you, Apollo.  I *love* you.  Do you understand that?"
     Apollo stood quietly, still not looking at Sheba, then she thought
she heard his voice softly make its way to her ears.
     "Iblis wants you and I don't know how to stop him this time." 
Apollo whispered mournfully, as he looked at the canyon.  Sheba's mind
worked frantically to try to figure out a way to get through to Apollo,
to break through the damage to his confidence that Iblis had done.
     "Iblis cannot take what is not freely given to him.  I would
rather die than go with him.  I do not want him, desire him or love
him.  All I want is you and the future that we have together.  Do you
understand me?"
     Apollo slowly turned his head and looked at her intently for a
short moment, then nodded slightly.  "I nearly lost you to him the last
time.  He still wants you."
     Sheba sighed.  "But this time there is a difference, Apollo.  I
know him for what he truly is."  As Sheba took in his pale, drawn
features, her heart and mind were in turmoil -- how was she going to
reach him and make him understand her.  He had been through so much. 
More than any other person she knew would be able to handle.  Sheba
never thought that she would see the day when Apollo would falter.  He
was just to willful, too stubborn to give up without a fight.
     "Do you love me, Apollo?"  Sheba asked quietly.
     "Yes."  Apollo spoke without hesitation, his voice sounding
stronger, forceful. "More than you could ever know."
     Sheba's heart lifted and she smiled at him,  "Then how can Iblis
come between two people who love each other as we do?  I trust you.  I
trust you with my life, my heart and my soul.  I trust you to protect
me as I promise to protect you.  I trust you to stand by me no matter
what.  Am I giving all that to the wrong man?"
     Apollo stood there quietly for several microns, looking Sheba in
the eyes, feeling a deep calm come over him.  He felt like the drowning
man being given a life preserver to hang on to in a vast sea, and Sheba
was his life raft.  "No, you're not giving all that to the wrong man."
     Sheba walked slowly, cautiously over to him.  "You are a colonial
warrior.  One of the best we have.  You have bravely risked your life
to save others day after day.  You are dedicated to saving what is left
of our people.  And in addition of giving all that, you still give your
love to your father, Athena, and Boxey, to Starbuck, Boomer, and
Cassie, to all of your friends, and to me, freely.  Unconditionally. 
Without reserve or remorse.  You stand by us no matter what we do,
right or wrong and support our decision, even if you don't agree with
them.  You are not a saint or a god, Apollo.  You are not without
faults or infallible.  You are just a man and right now, that man needs
to accept that he does not need to protect us.  That he is the one in
need of our protection and our support.  You have to let us protect
you."
     "But I am your downfall.  All of you will die and it's all my
fault."
     "It is not your fault, Apollo!"  Sheba stressed to him, anger and
frustration starting to creep into her tone.  "If we die at the hand of
Iblis, then its because we will not give him our souls.  And if we die,
then we die together, but Apollo, our love, yours and mine, the love of
our family and friends will never die.  My father disappeared without a
trace over two yahrens ago.  He could be dead for all I know and I
still feel his love for me every day.  My mother died over nine yahrens
ago and I still feel her love.  You feel the same from your mother,
from your brother, and even from Serina.  Love doesn't die."
     Sheba took a chance and reached over to hug him close to her. 
Apollo remained stiff for a micron then slowly relaxed, wrapping his
arms around her, hugging her tightly to him, as he resting his head on
her shoulder.  Sheba felt tears gather in her eyes as she held on to
him.
     "Our love is so strong, even though there are days when we
question its strength.  I know we don't take the time to tell each
other every day how we feel, we know.  You and I made a promise to
never take our feelings for each other for granted again."
     "We are going back to the Galactica and we will help you get well. 
As long as it takes, we are all here for you and we will continue to
love you, no matter what you may think. You have done nothing to feel
guilty for.  Nothing that has happened here is your fault.  Nothing. 
Do you hear me?"
     "How touching.  How so very sweet.  Empty hollow promises of two
people who say they love each other, but how far are they willing to go
to prove it."
     Sheba felt that chill go up her spine again.  She hugged Apollo
tightly once more and whispered, "It's going to be okay," then turned
to face the man that she nearly lost her soul to two yahrens before. 
This time, he was not going to win, Sheba resolved.  Fighting her own
guilt from their last encounter and stiffening her resolve to defeat
him this time, Sheba turned to face the devil himself.  She noticed
that the sky was darker, more ominous, and the lightening seemed much
brighter.  The wind was getting stronger as she stood firm against its
force.  She was not going to give into her fear.  The last encounter
with Iblis, Apollo was the strong one, this time she had to be.
     "What do you want, Iblis?" Sheba said, firmly, clearly disgusted
with the presence of this self-serving serpent.  In the back of her
mind, Sheba could hear Cain's voice telling her over and over 'To
outwit the enemy, do the unexpected.  What he is least likely to figure
that you would do.  That gives you the element of surprise.  That,
Sheba, will give you the edge.'  Sheba drew more confidence from those
words and stood straighter.
     "Sheba, my princess.  My love."  Iblis said, sweetly.
     "I am not your love, Iblis.  What do you want?"  Sheba said,
critically.
     "I love you, Sheba.  I desire you."
     Apollo raised his head and looked fearful.  "No." he said softly.
     Iblis smooth tones became even smoother as he saw Apollo's fear. 
"I want you to rule along side of me.  My minions will worship you, do
your bidding.  Anything that you would want would be yours.  The most
beautiful of attire, the finest of jewels, servants to bow to your
every whim.  We could go anywhere in the universe and beyond.  Whatever
is your hearts desire, I will give that to you."
     "I have all that I want, Iblis."
     "You have set your sights too low.  Look up.  See how beautiful
you look in the finest of silks."  Iblis held out his hand and Sheba
found herself in a gown of the most beautiful pale lavender silk that
she had ever seen.  Soft and silky against her skin, fitting her like a
glove, she felt almost decadent in it.  She turned and saw Apollo's
face as he gazed at her in that gown.  There was a pain in his eyes
that she could not ignore.
     "I don't want it, Iblis," Sheba said as she stepped over to the
nearest tree.  "Give me back my clothes."
     Iblis looked at her in disgust.  "This is what you want?  The
clothes of a colonial warrior?"  Sheba looked down again.  Her brown
flight uniform had returned.  "When you deserve this?" and in an
instant the lovely lavender gown was back.
     "What I want and what you want are two completely different things
Iblis.  I have everything that I want."
     "Look at him, Sheba," Iblis spat out.  "I have destroyed him,
broken his spirit.  He does not deserve your love.  Apollo cannot love
anyone, unless of course the person is dead.  Look how devoted he is to
the memory of Serina."  Iblis paused, letting his words sink in,
knowing that this fact was a sore point with Sheba.  A part of her own
insecurity about Apollo and his feelings for her.
     "Apollo still loves her, Sheba, not you.  He has lied to you.  He
still wishes to die to be with her."
     Apollo looked up at Iblis, anger showing on his face.  For the
first time, Sheba felt a surge of hope as she saw the fire come back
into his eyes.  The anger.
     "But I, in turn, love only you, Sheba," said Iblis, "I have loved
you since we met.  And I do not live for a memory.  I give my love and
devotion to you only."
     Apollo felt his anger grow at this pompous apparition as Iblis
professed to love the woman that Apollo loved.  The gall that he had to
use Serina and her memory against Sheba.  It took Apollo a lot of time
to assure Sheba in the course of their relationship, where his love for
Serina stood and where Sheba stood.  He remembered Sheba's insecurity
about Serina in the beginning of their relationship.  Apollo had
thought that battle was over, but now Iblis wanted to use Sheba's
insecurities about Serina to turn her against him.  'Well,' Apollo
resolved, 'it was not going to work.'  Apollo opened his mouth to
speak, but Sheba spoke before he could utter a word, the anger in her
eyes told him all he needed to know.
     "You don't love me Iblis.  You love no one but yourself," replied
Sheba, the sound of disgust in her voice.  "You don't even have any
idea what love is.  To you it's just a word.  You DEMAND love, you
don't give it.  You DEMAND that we give you our very souls.  You need
to learn something, Iblis.
     Love is not demanded, or commanded or ordered up like you would
order food in a cafe.  It does not come with attachments, like I will
love you *if*...  That is not how it goes.  If you don't get what you
want, you don't go around killing people just because you were denied."
     "And how dare you use Serina's memory against me.  She died very
tragically, like so many other people who died in defense of their
people and yes, Apollo mourned her.  Because he loved her and no matter
what you say I know in my heart that Apollo loves me.  And do you know
how I know?"  Sheba looked at Apollo and said, "Love is what it was
when Apollo stepped in front of me and gave his life for me.  He proved
his love by sacrificing himself for me, even though our feelings were
in their early stages.  A strong, binding love is what Apollo and I
have for each other now.  It has taken time, and work, for it to be
what it is now."
     Iblis stared intently at Sheba, "I love you, Sheba.  I want you."
     Sheba looked at Iblis, hatred in her voice.  "Well, I don't want
you.  What I want is the life I have now as it is.  Oh, and one more
thing, Count,"  Sheba said sarcastically, "Would you give me back my
clothes.  If I have to die, I might as well die in my own clothes."
     Apollo watched Sheba, grinning at her effrontery of the evil
count.  Iblis looked annoyed as he waved his hand, giving her back the
plain outfit that she had worn to the planet.
     "You wish death today."
     Sheba saw out of the corner of her eye Adama, Starbuck, Boomer
arrive at the ledge.  She was very surprised to see Brannigan a few
steps behind them, looking very different that he did earlier.  She
then saw Athena and Cassie arrive a few microns behind them, but even
their arrival did nothing to alleviate her heightened emotions. 
Nothing to calm her fears that she was trying to hide from the Count.
     "I don't want to die today, but if it has to be, today is as good
as any."  Sheba glanced over at Apollo and saw fear spring into his
eyes for her.
     "You dare mock me?" Iblis shouted angrily.  The essence of evil
glowed brightly with anger.  A bright flash of lightning struck the
tree behind Sheba and Apollo and they both fell to the ground with
sparks flying over them.
     "No!"  Adama shouted.  "Iblis!"
     "Stop!"  shouted Boomer.
     "Apollo!  Sheba!"  Starbuck shouted to them and started running
towards them.  The gale force of the wind knocked him to the ground,
forcing the air from Starbuck's lungs.  As he got back on his feet, he
shouted as loud as he could into the wind, "Leave them alone, Iblis!"
     The ground began to rumble beneath their feet and Adama watched as
the cliff that Apollo and Sheba laid on began to crack away from the
rest.  The tree that had been struck by the lightning microns before
suddenly fell into the canyon below.  The ebbing ledge of the canyon
crumbled closer to Apollo and Sheba's feet and the fissure in front of
them opened wider, with the unstable piece of ground that they were on
dropping down a few feet.  Rain started pelting down from the dark sky
above and made the ground even more dangerous.  Starbuck and Boomer ran
past Iblis and, falling to the ground, grabbed Apollo and Sheba's hands
to try to bring them off the crumbling, shifting chunk of earth before
it plummeted to the canyon floor.
     Suddenly Adama, Cassie and Athena was there, grabbing them with
rain slicked hands.  Then as suddenly as a crack of thunder, they all
heard a booming voice cry...
     "BE GONE!"
     Miraculously, the rain stopped, the lightening ceased, the winds
died, the earth stopped its trembling, and blessedly the sun came out,
strong and bright.  None of the Galactica members questioned what
happened, they just took advantage of the reprieve and pulled Apollo
and Sheba over to stable ground.  As soon as they did, the ledge let
loose its tenuous hold and fell to the canyon floor.  They all fell
together on the rain soaked ground, hanging on to each other for all
they were worth, each sending a silent thank-you to the heavens above.
     From where he stood, Iblis watched them with undisguised disgust
and anger.  He turned and faced his chief nemesis, loathing in his
eyes.
     "How dare you interfere with me!"  Iblis shouted, rage in every
word.
     "That is the sole purpose for my existence, Diabolis.  You know
that," replied the Knight calmly, evenly.
     The Galactica members got to their feet and stood watching the
exchange between the Knight and the Prince of Darkness.  The two
eternal enemies stared at each other for several centons, then Iblis
spoke.
     "You cannot protect them forever."
     "They now have the ability to protect themselves."  The Knight
replied confidently.
     "Mere mortals against me?"  The Prince of all that was Evil
replied incredulously.
     "Mere mortals that you fear, Diabolis.  Mere mortals that are
destined for great and wonderful things. Mere mortals that defy you and
all minions combined.  You tried to break Apollo, yet there he still
stands.  Madness?  I see none there in his eyes now.  You failed. 
Sheba stood strong and defied you, willing to meet death than to submit
to you, even mocked you and she still stands - alive and well.  You
failed twice.  Adama still stands, although your energies this time
were directed to the son.  Three failures.  Starbuck, Boomer,
Cassiopeia and Athena, all stand and live, so now you have failed seven
times."  The Knight shook his head mockingly at the Prince of Darkness. 
"Tisk Tisk.  That must be a new record."
     "I HAVE NOT FAILED!!!"  Iblis screamed his fury and glowed with
killing energy, whirling to face the Galactica members.
     The Knight knew instantly what was about to happen and shouted to
Apollo.  "Apollo, draw the sword!"
     Apollo did not hesitate and pulled the sword out of the sheath on
his back placing it in front of him as Iblis let lose with a burst of
energy at the Galacticans.  The sword seemed to take on a life of its
own at it caught the destructive energy charge and then sent it
harmlessly in the air where it disappeared.  Apollo stood there,
shocked and staring in disbelief at the sword.  He looked at his family
and friends, whose expression all were about the same as his.  He then
turned to face the Knight, the man he knew as his friend Brannigan, who
was smiling at him, pleased.
     "Good job, lad.  Good job."
     Iblis stared in horror at the sword in Apollo's hand and then spun
to face the Knight.  "YOU!  You gave him a holy sword!"
     "I gave him Excaliber.  You know that sword's history, Diabolis."
     "You retrieved it."
     "Yes.  Its time has come again.  It will serve its new master well
just as it has served its other masters in the past," replied the
Knight proudly.  "Be aware, Diabolis, Apollo is its new master as well
as his blood descendants."
     "He is mortal!  He cannot possess the sword!"
     "If you remember, so were the others who were entrusted with its
care."
     "I am not done yet Knight."  Iblis growled angrily at the Knight.
     The Knight sighed, tired of Iblis.  "You are done though this day,
Diabolis.  Be gone with you."
     "You know there will be another time."
     "Yes, 'and another place and we'll meet again.'  Its really time
for a change, Iblis. That saying is getting old after all of these
millennia," replied the Knight wearily.
     Iblis looked at the Knight in dismay, and said nothing more, but
disappeared.  The Knight smiled, walking over to stand in front of
Apollo and said to him quietly.
     "You have a very powerful weapon in your arsenal now, Apollo. 
This sword has traveled the Universe fighting for justice, truth and
goodness throughout the millennia.  The last person to use it was a
great king, who in a moment of weakness, not only lost his great and
wonderful kingdom, but his life.  I was there and I could do nothing to
stop it.  So the sword was given to a mystical being for safekeeping,
till it was needed again.  It now is in your care.  Iblis fears this
sword as well he should."
     Apollo looked at the Knight in wonderment.  "I...  I have no idea
how to use it."
     "That will come to you as you grow and find your own gifts and
power.  With your technology, the uses for Excaliber are just slightly
limited. But remember only the pure of heart can possess this sword. 
It is not a myth, or a legend, but a requirement for its use.  The
great powers dictated the requirements when the sword was cast."  The
Knight smiled broadly and placed a reassuring hand on Apollo's
shoulder.  "I know that you will use it well.  But now you need to
return to your fleet and heal, Apollo.  Give yourself the time to
heal."
     "The two people that died at Iblis hand..."
     "It was their destiny.  You could not stop it even though you
tried your best.  What you remember of their deaths will fade into
memory.  Let it.  Don't dwell on it for Iblis will use it against you."
     Apollo looked at him hesitantly, then asked quietly.  "Did I go
mad, Brannigan?  Am I still..."
     "No, lad.  Not the true definition of madness.  Your mind escaped
the physical duress that you were under by creating a new world
mentally for you.  When you saw your loved ones, the ones you trusted
to protect you from what you could not protect yourself from, the walls
began to crumble and the memories returned like a rushing river.  The
trust that you have in them is strong and binding.  When you saw your
father, you felt that you had failed him somehow and not lived up to
the expectations that you believed he had for you.  You never failed
your father, or your friends.  Thane and Iblis instilled a strong sense
of failure in you during your captivity.  You succeeded in much."
     "But be warned - Diabolis, rather Iblis, is not gone.  He will
return someday.  Until that day, any one of his minions will come
across your path, so heed this warning, do not take their threats
lightly, for they are very powerful and formidable.  To win, you will
need to remain together, keep the depth of the love and the trust that
you have for each other strong.  And you, Apollo, will need to fully
heal.  It will be slow and it will take time, but you have a lot of
support to help you.  Don't turn away from them, foolishly thinking you
can handle everything yourself."
     The Knight looked to Starbuck and Boomer.  "The horses have been
returned to my dear sister and your thanks have been conveyed.  Also a
shuttle is on its way from the Galactica and will be here to take you
home shortly."  The Knight turned and started walking away from the
canyon.
     Apollo stood watching the Knight walk away when he felt someone
touch his arm.  He turned and looked into Athena's concerned blue eyes. 
He draped his arm around his sister's shoulders and said softly, "What
are you doing off the bridge?"
     Athena smiled back at him.  "Someone had to save your rear, so I
figured I was the best choice for the job."
     Apollo genuinely smiled at her, actually feeling happy for the
first time in what seemed to be a long time.  "And why is that?"
     "I've been doing the job for so long and I do it so well."
     "Yeah, right." teased Apollo, as he put his other arm around
Sheba, who placed her other arm around Starbuck, who had his arm around
Cassie.  Boomer wrapped his arm around Athena and they all started
walking behind Adama and the Knight back to the landing site.
     "I can do more than just sit on the bridge, Apollo."  Athena
replied, half-heartedly arguing with her brother.  She was glad to see
the light come back into his eyes.  She was right, he was not broken or
even mad.  Athena was going to make sure that he took the time to
recover, no matter how much she had to bully him.  "I can do a lot
more."
     "Hey Starbuck," Apollo called out to his friend, "Athena says that
she's the best person for covering my rear.  I thought that was you."
     "This time buddy, I needed a lot of help.  Had to call out the
reserves."  Starbuck joked.
     Adama put his hand on the Knight's arm, stopping him at the edge
of the woods.  "I wish to thank you for everything you did for my son
and for protecting my daughter."
     The Knight smiled.  "All in the job description of a Knight, but
you're welcome."  The Knight then sighed as he looked around the green
of the forest.  "This has been a nice life while I was here.  The only
thing I'll regret is that I won't be able to physically be there as
Brannigan when Thane is defeated and Cedric returns to his throne.  But
Shanea will be."
     "Your daughter?"
     The Knight nodded.  "When the time comes, she will evolve into
what I am now.  She has a great destiny in service to the Creator.  I
just wish I could have had more time with her."
     The Knight turned and watched the six young warriors walked away
from him in a line with their arms about each other, the friendship and
love they shared shining brightest at that moment.  Adama also turned
and smiled at the sight.
     The Knight sighed.  When he spoke, Adama thought that his tone
sounded almost wistful.
     "The name that I gave Apollo was my own son's name.  My Crisdean
died at the hands of evil when he was just a lad, but it feels just
like it was yesterday.  The sword was suppose to be his, to fight evil
at my side.  You're a lucky man, Adama.  You have the devout love of
two children that God blessed you with and the love of four others. 
You're a very lucky man.  Thank Him for your blessings every day."
     Adama looked at the Knight and then back to his children, all of
his children.  "I already do."

THE END