Date: Sun, 26 Mar 1995 From: "Eugenia Horne" Subject: Starbuck and Apollo (aka fanfic) WARNING: First installment of another dreaded crossover follows. This is not meant to infringe upon the copyright of the original creators of the following characters: BSG characters (and surroundings)...............Glen Larson Hobart Floyt & Alacrity Fitzhugh (although this IS meant to be a spoof of the "Bombastic Herdmann "perfect hair and eye makeup" version)...................Brian Daley Celestina, Carilloc, the rest of Kirovia, and this version of the "Terran Commonwealth", etc................well, mine. No previous knowledge of Floyt, Fitzhugh, or Kirovia is needed to read this as it is from the "viewpoint" of "Our Heroes": Starbuck and Apollo. (But it sure helps on the "running jokes".) STARBUCK AND APOLLO AND HOBART FLOYT AND ALACRITY FITZHUGH CHALLENGE THE HOMICIDAL, SUICIDAL, MANIACAL CENTURIONS OF THE CYLON EMPIRE or NIGHT OF THE LIVING HEMI-DEMI-SEMI-CROSSOVER..... THE MASOCHISM TANGO (or YET ANOTHER BORING PATROL).... "I ache for the touch of your lips, dear, But much more for the touch of your whips, dear. You can raise welts like nobody else As we dance to the Masochism Tango..." Patrol was tedious, boring and uneventful as best; when Starbuck decided to sing, it was intolerable. Apollo drummed his fingers on the control panel as they flew in tandem amongst the eternal night sky of space. His hopes lifted as Starbuck stopped, but his hopes were summarily dashed as the Lieutenant started the next verse with renewed gusto. "What kind of relationship DOES he have with Cassiopeia," Apollo murmured. "You say something?" Starbuck cheerfully inquired. At least he had stopped singing. "Sure is quiet out here," Apollo frantically tried to think of some topic. "That's just the way I like it," Starbuck answered. "No Cylons, no engine trouble, no new inhabited planets...." "Uh, Starbuck...." "Don't tell me you've found something." "Just picked it up on my scanner. That fourth planet in this system. I'm picking up various types of emissions - radio, digital, lasercomm...." "It means trouble. I just know it," Starbuck muttered. "It isn't Cylon; is it?" "No, the language appears to be some form of inter-colonial standard." "Outpost? Nah, we left those quadrants long ago." "They're human," Apollo said excitedly as he caught a glimpse of the visual transmissions on his scanner. A rather attractive woman wearing a sparkling tiara and long white gown appeared to be presiding at some ceremony. "Hey, she's beautiful....." Starbuck breathed. "Starbuck?" Apollo said, while watching the woman cut a red and gold ribbon before a building. "What about Cassiopeia?" "I can fantasize, can't I? I wonder who - " Starbuck was cut off by a rather insistent transmission: "This is Administrator Genelle. You have violated Kirovian Airspace. In the name of Her Grace, Celestina, you are hereby under arrest. Do not make any evasive maneuvers. To do so would prompt immediately action on our part." "Wait, you don't understand!" Starbuck yelped. "It was an accident." He had correctly translated the Kirovian speech as: "You attempt to run and we will blow you out of the sky." And to make it all the more dire to Starbuck, it had been a woman's voice issuing the Kirovian ultimatum. "You will be given the proper opportunity to make your plea at the appropriate time," she answered Starbuck's entreaty with no trace of mercy in her voice. "I think we better do what she says," Apollo stated. "That would be an excellent idea on your part," Genelle replied. A contingent of fighters intercepted their course and escorted the Galactican Vipers to a landing strip. Apollo and Starbuck had had ample time to examine Kirovia as they made their way down. It was a small planet, rather on the cold side, with a small population concentrated along the equator. The buildings were low and predominately light in colour almost blending in with the snow covered mountains. At the landing facility, bright patches of scarlet and gold flashed in the sun and the native Kirovian fighters bore an emblem of a scarlet and gold double-headed bird. Several other ships were parked, some of which had the same bird and some of which bore an emblem depicting both hemispheres of a blue planet with the silhouettes of the continents in green. Underneath this emblem ran the script "Terra's Service". The Galactican pilots set their ships down, opened the cockpits, and climbed out to be faced by a squad wearing black uniforms trimmed with scarlet and gold. They looked official and very serious. They also greeted them with weapons at ready and promptly relieved Apollo and Starbuck of their firearms. "This way, gentlemen," a woman stepped forward. Apollo almost gaped. It was the same no-nonsense voice, but she was tiny and good-looking in an almost fragile way. Those about her gave her the unspoken deference of one firmly in command. Starbuck flashed her one of his famous grins. She scowled. Starbuck wilted. Apollo and Starbuck had no choice but to fall in step, surrounded by the uniformed guards. "By the Lords of Kobol, what is THAT?" Apollo whispered looking at a ship they were passing. It was black and molecularly bonded to the hull was the most incredible painting they had ever seen depicted the lady of justice holding aloft her scales in one hand and her flaming sword in the other. "The 'Justice Prevails'," Genelle said. "What?" Starbuck asked. If she was talking to them, he still had some chance. "The name of the ship is 'Justice Prevails'." "Whose ship is it?" Apollo asked, thinking that only an interstellar gigolo would be seen in that. Actually he wasn't far off. "Administrator Floyt's." "Must be some guy," Starbuck managed a smile. "Does he keep a harem by any chance?" "I take it you've never heard of Administrator Floyt? 'The Noble Terran Hero'?" "No, can't say as we have," Apollo replied, but both he and Starbuck noted the word "Terran". "Should we have?" Starbuck queried. They had reached the building's entrance and were duly escorted inside. A blond haired man wearing a burgundy suit and mantle greeted them with a small bow to Genelle. "Countess Genelle, these are the people you have informed me of?" "Yes, Andre, these are the gentlemen. Carilloc wants a full report." "No doubt that he does." Andre gave her a crooked smile. "Can't we talk to this Floyt?" Apollo asked. "I'm sorry, but he's busy at the moment," Andre said. "I believe he and Celestina are 'opening another supermarket'. Besides we have quite a bit of paperwork to complete as you have trespassed upon our airspace." Andre was polite but insistent. The Galactican pilots were escorted to a small room. Genelle left for parts unknown and most of the guards remained outside. Two remained with Andre as Apollo and Starbuck were ushered in. Andre took the seat behind the desk and motioned to the pilots to sit down on the remaining chairs, which they did a bit hesitantly. They were more accustomed to being shot at, thrown in jails, or otherwise similar hazards. They were unprepared for being politely diplomacized to death. PART 2 THE COUNCIL OF TWELVE... On the Rising Star, Siress Tinya sighed as she read the latest message from Adama displayed on her console: Revised regulations concerning the rationing of food, clothes and other "non- essential items". It was phrased in Adama's usual dictatorial style explaining that although a shortage of supplies would demand a tightening of individual rations for a while, he hoped that additional sources would be obtained from the planetary system the fleet was approaching. Tinya shook her head. Civilians in the fleet were already dissatisfied with the amount of rationing going on, and here Adama expected HER and the rest of the Council to inform and police the civilians in the fleet, while the warriors where exempt due to their "necessary" status. Didn't the civilians of the fleet feed, clothe, and entertain the warriors as it was? Was it unreasonable to assume that the agroships and manufacturing ships were at least as important in long-term survival? Despite Commander Adama's self-appointed role as the saviour and protector of the fleet, what would happen to the Galactica if they were suddenly without food and supplies? Siress Tinya paused in her ruminations, a slight smile on her lips. Yes, this was an idea that invited further consideration. BACK ON KIROVIA.... "Now, gentleman, let's start with something simple. What are your names." "I'm Captain Apollo of the Battlestar Galactica," Apollo said almost dutifully. "Hmmm," Andre frowned and turned to Starbuck. "And you are?" "Lieutenant Starbuck." "Same outfit?" Andre asked. "Why, yes." Starbuck answered cheerfully rather oblivious to the dreadful pun. "And just what is the "Battlestar Galactica"? It sounds rather military." "Well, yes, it is," Apollo confessed feeling very uncomfortable. "But we come in peace." "Oh, no doubt," Andre smiled. "Would you be part of a fleet by any chance?" "I suppose you could call it that," Starbuck scoffed. "How very interesting. And why would this fleet be anywhere near Kirovia?" "We're from the 12 colonies and we're headed to Earth." Apollo decided to omit the part about the Cylons for the moment. "Colonies?" Lord Andre nodded, noting that fact. "Would that be part of Terra's - excuse me - Earth's 'lost colonies' during the Imperial Civil War?" "Perhaps. It seems to fit into some of the legends." "It was quite awhile ago, almost a millennium ago, in fact. Kirovia was 'lost' for several centuries." "So this is a colony of Earth?" Starbuck leaned forward. "Kirovia is officially a 'protectorate' currently," Andre smiled. "Kirovia is in contact with Earth?" Apollo asked. He had glimpsed the light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak. "Well, of course, how else would we maintain economic, diplomatic, and cultural ties with Terra - or Earth - as you call it." "Could you tell us the coordinates?" Starbuck asked in his most persuasive tone. "No." Andre said, noting their disappointed expressions. "I'm not an astrogator." The Galactican pilots cheered back up somewhat. "If you will excuse me for a moment." Actually they didn't have much choice in the matter, but nodded politely as Andre got up and left the room. The guards remained. WITH ASPECT STERN AND GLOOMY STRIDE....(or CARILLOC SHOWS UP.....) After what seemed an eternity of silence, for the Galactican pilots did not want to converse before the Kirovian guards, Andre returned. He was accompanied by a tall grey man. Everything about him was grey: his uniform, his mantle, his hair, even his eyes. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," the grey man smiled. "I am Count Carilloc. My assistant informed me about your unexpected visit to Kirovia." He sat on the edge of the desk. Andre remained standing behind him. "We regret infringing upon your airspace without going through the proper protocols," Apollo said quickly. It was evident he had been silently rehearsing this sentence. To his surprise, Carilloc laughed. "Of course, you are," the Count commented enigmatically. Starbuck decided that everything about the man was enigmatic. "But since you are here, we must do something about it and at the moment we aren't sure whether to greet you as comrades or shoot you as enemies." "Comrades. Definitely, comrades," Starbuck gave him all of his infamous charm. "We would prefer that option," Carilloc answered. "It's so much simpler. Less paperwork as Master Fitzhugh would say." "We could just return to our ship and you can have no paperwork," Starbuck said lightly. "I'm sorry, but that is not an option." Carilloc leaned forward and lowered his voice. It rather gave Apollo chills up and down his spine. "You see, you know where Kirovia is, and - well - I can't just let you go until I ascertain your loyalties. It is very possible that you could lead an invading force to Kirovia and that we wouldn't want." Carilloc shook his head. "We wouldn't do that. We really don't want a confrontation," Apollo said. He prayed that he sounded earnest enough. "And neither do we," Carilloc smiled slyly. Starbuck wished he stopped doing that. It didn't look cheerful; it looked downright creepy, like a snake getting ready to strike. "So can we leave?" Starbuck repeated. "We'll see. Why don't you tell me more about the 'Battlestar Galactica'? For instance, why was it built? Why is it apparently sending patrols into Kirovian territory? Andre has already informed me that you wish to travel to Earth. Why would that be your destination?" "I have a question to ask you first," Apollo said. "Oh, and that is?" "Why should we tell you anything? We don't know who you are. Don't we have the same concerns as you? How do we know that Kirovia wouldn't blow the Galactica out of the sky?" There was a hideous pause of silence as Carilloc pondered the Captain's remarks. Starbuck could have sworn the man's grey eyes became darker. "My dear boy, it is not the same situation at all. You are on Kirovian territory. You trespassed on our airspace. You are a minor player in the scheme of things. I would not hesitate to throw you in the dungeon until I have just cause to feel that you are not a threat to Kirovian safety. I will tell you that whether or not you assist me, I will determine what this 'Galactica' is, where it is, and if necessary proceed to take steps to neutralize it." "Well, I think the Count has made a good point," Starbuck said, his apparent levity rather strained. "Several good points in fact." "My loyalties would restrict me from assisting you in any manner that would jeopardize out ship's safety," Apollo tried to stare down Carilloc. "Be that as it may," Carilloc murmured, sighing almost with an air of regret. "Andre, escort these gentlemen to the dungeon." NEXT TIME.... Will Siress Tinya deliver her ultimatum? Will Starbuck and Apollo ever get OUT of the dungeon? Will Carilloc torture "Our Heroes"? Will Alacrity make an appearance? ------------------------------ STARBUCK AND APOLLO AND HOBART FLOYT AND ALACRITY FITZHUGH (Where is HE?) CHALLENGE THE HOMICICAL, SUICIDAL, MANIACAL CENTURIONS OF THE CYLON EMPIRE (Where are THEY?)...Part 3 AS SOMEDAY IT MAY HAPPEN THAT A VICTIM MUST BE FOUND....) (or THE DUNGEON - RATS, RATS, RATS...) If Apollo and Starbuck were expecting the classic dungeon with damp stone, dripping ceilings, and lots of rats, they were sorely disappointed. They had been escorted by the same guards through a maze of underground tunnels, electronically locked doors, and surveillance equipment until they had reached a block of cells which were clean, tidy, and warm. They were duly locked into a cell next to the corner cell. Within the corner cell, rested a person face down on that cell's cot and with one hand loosely gripping a bottle. Starbuck decided it was a man, although it took him several moments of intense scrutiny to determine this fact, for the person's main feature from the back was an incredible mane of waist-length silver grey hair. Apollo and Starbuck were left alone. No one else was in sight, except for their next door neighbor who seemed in a drunken coma. He hadn't moved at all, except to breathe. "Great, the Galactica is about to be attacked by a maniac and there isn't any way for us to warn them," Starbuck muttered. "Who says he is a maniac?" "Did you see the look in his eyes? He's this far from raving lunacy." Starbuck held his forefinger and thumb a hair's breadth apart. "Come on, he looked a little creepy, but he doesn't look suicidal. He's just concerned with the planet's security. My father acts the same way some times." "Yeah, and he's really scary sometimes too." Apollo ignored Starbuck's reference to Adama. "Right, so what do we do now?" Apollo muttered, sitting on the cot. "Not much. I don't think that Carilloc fellow is going to be letting us out anytime soon." "So, who says we have to wait until he lets us out?" "Apollo, did you notice how many guards, locks, and other things are between us and the exit? No one is getting out of here until they are let out." Apollo wasn't listening to Starbuck's rant. He had this sort of far away gaze in his eyes. Starbuck got nervous. "Did you hear what Andre said about Earth and lost colonies?" "Yes, so. Maybe the 12 colonies were once part of this empire. What does that matter now?" "Wouldn't that obligate Earth in some way to help us against the Cylons?" "Do you think they would?" "Why not? This Commonwealth sounds big enough. They appear technologically advanced. At our level, perhaps even more." Apollo pondered the possibilities. He was thinking more clearly; most people did when away from Carilloc. "We could tell them that we are part of the Earth's colonies and we lost contact. It is possible." "How are you going to explain the Cylons? This Carilloc did not look happy even contemplating the possibility of someone threatening this place." "Well, whether he likes it or not, it's a possibility. Would he like to be warned by us or taken by surprise?" "He doesn't look like someone who could be taken by surprise." Starbuck gave a short laugh. "So what do you have in mind?" "Talk to Carilloc again. There can't be any harm in telling him about the colonies." Apollo mused. Before he could call for the guard, the guards came for him. "All right, let's go. Carilloc wants to speak to you again," the leader said, unlocking the door. "Really? We just wanted to have a chat with him." Apollo mustered his best smile. "This isn't a chat. Carilloc doesn't look happy with you two." the guard muttered escorting them out and down the hall. They never saw their neighboring inmate sit up and take a drink. "Amateurs," he smirked, amusement shining in his rather unusual large, gold eyes, as he opened a comlink with Count Carilloc. Apollo and Starbuck were led into a large office. Carilloc's office. He was seated behind a massive black desk which had monitors underneath the glass top. As they entered, he casually tapped a few controls bringing up some information. Before Starbuck's attention was entirely focussed on the Count, he noticed the painting behind Carilloc's desk. It was of the same women that he had glimpsed on the screen in the Viper. Again she was wearing a tiara in her dark hair, and a white dress with a red sash angled from her left shoulder to right hip. "Gentlemen, how nice to see you again," Carilloc said, although he didn't look one bit pleased. Starbuck decided he'd rather be dealing with Baltar. Baltar made mistakes, Baltar made faulty assumptions; Carilloc didn't look like he'd fall prey to such basic errors in logic. Carilloc was Baltar with a working, functional intelligence. Starbuck's knees felt weak. "We seem to have a little problem that you might be able to help us with." "Sure, we'd be glad to help," Starbuck blurted. Apollo gave him a glance of dire warning. "Ah, very good...perhaps you'd like to take a look at this," he waved casually to one of the monitors. Apollo and Starbuck dutifully examined the read out. The guards remained near the door. "As you can see, gentlemen, we have detected a rather wide variety of ships near Kirovia." Carilloc tapped the screen. Apollo and Starbuck guessed that the large ship leading a rather loosely, motley group of several hundred smaller ships was the Galactica and it's fleet. The ships were marked with symbols marking their positions and size. "We are making the assumption that this is the ship you hail from, correct?" Starbuck looked up to see Carilloc's grey eyes watching him with an unwavering gaze. Feeling his Captain next to him, Starbuck shifted his gaze to Apollo. So did Carilloc. Apollo took a deep breath. "Yes, it is," he nodded. "Quite a large fleet for an simply exploratory expedition, don't you think?" Carilloc smiled. "Yes, but we can explain. It's not what you think." Apollo said. "And what do I think?" Carilloc murmured. "That we're an invasion force obviously." Apollo sounded just a bit frustrated. "That thought did cross my mind." Carilloc's voice dropped to a smooth silky baritone. "And unless I am provided with an alternate explanation, that is the assumption that will have to govern my next actions." "Look, Carilloc, we aren't an invasion force. We're refugees." "Ah, that sounds quite reasonable. But now the question that presents itself is: Refugees from what?" Carilloc steepled his fingers, contemplating the possibilities. Starbuck again looked to Apollo, and was rather surprised to see his partner's forehead damp with sweat. Starbuck did have to admit, it was much, much easier to face a phalanx of Cylon fighters than this one mysterious grey man. Apollo remained silent, and the Count leaned forward again, tapping the screen. "If that question is too difficult for you, perhaps you might answer this one: What are these?" Starbuck's blood froze as he saw sumbols for three - no, four ships roughly the size of the Galactica and some distance behind the fleet. Basically, the Galactica and its fleet was trapped between what appeared to be 4 baseships and whatever forces Carilloc could muster. Apollo looked pale, very pale as he stared at the screen. Carilloc waited. NEXT TIME.... Will Starbuck or Apollo fess up? Will Carilloc launch an attack against the Galactica? Will Fitzhugh (for, indeed, that was Our Heroes' cellmate) have any more lines? Will Floyt "The Noble Terran Hero" make an appearance? ------------------------------ STARBUCK AND APOLLO AND HOBART FLOYT AND ALACRITY FITZHUGH (Finally here!!) CHALLENGE THE HOMICICAL, SUICIDAL, MANIACAL CENTURIONS OF THE CYLON EMPIRE (On their way?)...Part 4 OH, THE PHILOSOPHERS MAY SING OF THE DUTIES OF THE KING.... (Or WHILE STARBUCK AND APOLLO LANGUISH, OTHER THINGS ARE HAPPENING ELSEWHERE...) "I hereby declare lunch officially served," Celestina said, tapping her glass with her fork even though it was a private lunch with only three people present. "Aren't you carrying this a bit too far?" Floyt asked. He was a short, auburn haired, bearded man and naturally he was wearing his sky blue Terran Administrator's uniform. "Have to keep in practice, dear." "Are you practicing 'thank you' kisses?" Fitzhugh asked hopefully with the most innocent expression in his large gold eyes. Fitzhugh had naturally left the dungeon for lunch. "Of course," Celestina giggled and kissed Floyt on the cheek. He blushed. Fitzhugh moaned dramatically in mock disappointment. He knew going in that he hadn't stood a chance getting the beautiful Czarina to grant his wish. Celestina looked around suddenly, her blue eyes wide. "Something's missing," she whispered. "What? Is it the lack of emergency alarms going off?" Fitzhugh asked. "No, no, don't you notice it?" She turned to Floyt. "Well, do I get a hint?" Floyt looked around trying to determine if anything from the drawing room was gone. It looked as it always did with its red and gold furnishings. "Carilloc. He's gone. I haven't seen him all morning." "Good Heavens, he must be dead." Floyt's green eyes glittered with irony. Carilloc was an omnipresent personality within the Kirovian Palace. "Nah, he's downstairs interrogating two guys," Fitzhugh said, happily munching on fried potatoes. "He is? Why isn't he letting Andre do the questioning?" Celestina wondered. Something was seriously wrong if Carilloc was giving it his personal attention. "Who is he interrogating?" Floyt asked, almost in "Noble Terran Hero" mode. "Some guys from some refugee fleet. They say they are from some lost colonies." Fitzhugh continued with his lunch. "Aren't you going to eat?" "There shouldn't be any more lost colonies. Kirovia was one of the last to be recontacted," Floyt said. "And that was several hundred years ago." "Could they be Alliance spies?" Celestina asked. "Nah, too sloppy...." Fitzhugh took a sip from his glass. "This wine is really good. You really ought to have some before we get sent off on some mission again." At that moment the intercomm chimed. "For whom the intercomm rings?" Fitzhugh muttered. As if on cue, Carilloc's voice came through it. "Your Grace, if I may have a moment of your time? And if Administrator Floyt is there, I would greatly appreciate speaking with him as well." "Come in, Carilloc," Celestina released the door's lock. "We very well know you know Hobart is here." A moment later, the Count entered, his long grey mantle sweeping over the scarlet carpet. He gave Celestina a slight bow. "Your Grace, we have apprehended two men who have violated Kirovian airspace. They claim to be from a fleet with the flagship referred to as the 'Battlestar Galactica'. They claim to be fleeing from a force known as the 'Cylon Alliance'." "Does this mean I should start warming up the 'Justice Prevails'," Fitzhugh grumped. He had almost made it through lunch. "Seems we gotta go save the universe again." "Oh, no, Master Fitzhugh, this is much more serious. Kirovia is possibly at stake here." Carilloc gave Fitzhugh a crooked smile and turned to Floyt "We may need the Commonwealth's assistance." "I'll go start the paperwork," Floyt sighed and stood up. "Do the emergency one requesting the Terran Navy yesterday," Fitzhugh urged, jumping up. "Maybe they'll get here before our funerals." "I think it would be wise to contact this 'Battlestar'," Carilloc continued, rather ignoring Fitzhugh. "What are we going to do with the two gentleman in the dungeon?" Celestina also stood. "We could leave them there for the duration until after I've spoken to their Commander," Carilloc mused. "You're going with us?" Floyt and Fitzhugh yelped. "Kirovian interests are in play here. I think it would be appropriate." "Oh, he just wants to have some fun," Celestina teased. "Well, if he's going, I'm staying," Fitzhugh declared sitting back down. "Oh, no, you aren't," Floyt said. "I don't trust you alone with Celestina for one second." "Master Fitzhugh, I instructed Andre to return our two guests to their cell in a leisurely manner. I believe that would give you another 2 minutes," Carilloc added, glancing at this chronometer. Fitzhugh jumped up, took a few steps towards the door, hesitated, and then made a quick sweep back to the table snatching up the bottle of wine before exiting with, "Didn't get to finish my lunch." "Fitzhugh!" Floyt yelped. "It's my cover....." BACK TO THE DUNGEON..... "I thought you were trained against torture," Apollo snapped at his cellmate. "Hey, he would have found out sooner or later. Besides what choice did we have?" Starbuck countered, pacing the floor. "You could have been more dignified about it," Apollo groused. "Now, we're stuck here while the Galactica is about to be attacked and we can't do a thing about it." "Well, hey, it was one of my 'bad' days where my instinct for survival took precedence over niceties," Starbuck said sitting on the cot. He was rather waiting for his friend's inevitable sermon, but it never came. Starbuck looked over to Apollo. Apollo was peering through the bars at their neighbor, who apparently hadn't moved. "What do you suppose he knows?" Apollo murmured. NEXT TIME.... Will Apollo and Starbuck actually speak to Fitzhugh? Will Floyt, Fitzhugh and Carilloc make a visit to the Galactica? Will the Galactica be attacked and if so, who will attack? Will Commander Adama notice that Apollo and Starbuck are missing? ------------------------------ STARBUCK AND APOLLO AND HOBART FLOYT AND ALACRITY FITZHUGH (together?) CHALLENGE THE HOMICICAL, SUICIDAL, MANIACAL CENTURIONS OF THE CYLON EMPIRE (slow, aren't they?)...Part 5 RETURNING TO OUR HEROES IN THE DUNGEON... "What do you suppose he knows?" Apollo murmured, looking at the occupant of the next cell, who still hadn't moved as far as he could determine. "You'll be lucky if he isn't dead," Starbuck answered, but got up and walked over to Apollo's side. "What do you suppose he's in here for?" "Isn't it obvious? The poor guy probably had a few too many drinks, passed out, and Carilloc decided he didn't fit in with the decor." "Why didn't they just put him to bed?" "Because it's too dangerous; I know too many of the regular occupants," Fitzhugh muttered underneath all that hair. "What?" Apollo and Starbuck yarped together. Their neighbor sat up with an amazing ripple of silver grey hair. The Galactican pilots stared, momentarily stunned by his large gold eyes. "Carilloc's not going to let me have a bed in the Palace. What would the Kirovian Enquirer say? Besides these bars are just to keep my adoring lady friends out," he gave them a slight comradely leer. "What do you know about this Carilloc?" Apollo asked all business. "Do I look suicidal?" Fitzhugh took a drink from his bottle. "No," Apollo admitted. Starbuck was silent. Starbuck wasn't quite decided on whether he liked Fitzhugh or hated him. "So, why are you guys here?" Fitzhugh asked, even though he knew the answer. "We didn't meet with Carilloc's approval," Starbuck finally spoke, rather guardly. "That's not difficult to do," Fitzhugh laughed. "He's rather high strung when it comes to little things like the Czarina, security, Kirovian politics - " "Wait. Did you say Czarina?" Apollo asked. "Carilloc is not in charge?" "That's debatable. Of course there's a Czarina. Would Carilloc devote so much of HIS time to 'supermarket openings'?" "Can we talk to her?" Starbuck asked, hopefully. "Won't do you any good," Fitzhugh replied. "She's been fending me off for years." "What's a 'year'?" Apollo asked, while Starbuck looked severely disappointed. "A long time," Fitzhugh answered, standing. Not only was he thin, he was tall. "Here, have a drink." He slipped the bottle between the transparent bars to Starbuck. The pilot looked at it suspiciously for a moment, then shrugged and took a swig. "Wow, what is this?" he gasped. It was phenomenonally better than the ambrosia he had been drinking for the last several yahrens. Of course the ambrosia he had been drinking had been cobbled together from whatever materials and processes that the fleet could scrounge and patch together. "Riesling," Fitzhugh whispered conspiratorially. "I snatched it from the Czarina's table." Starbuck and Apollo thought he was using a turn of phrase; they were wrong. "This is good. Try some." Starbuck offered the bottle to Apollo, but only after taking another swallow. "This isn't a party..." Apollo growled, refusing the bottle. Starbuck happily kept it. "Is there any way to meet this Czarina?" "'This Czarina'? You make her sound like she's a tyrant or something," Fitzhugh giggled. "She is in charge, isn't she?" Apollo pursued the subject. "Theoretically she is. Carilloc is her primary advisor. IF you did speak to her, she would most likely ask Carilloc for his recommendations." Fitzhugh's tone was similar to an instructor explaining to a small child. "Basically we're stuck until Carilloc makes up his mind," Apollo dropped onto the cot. Being trapped helpless to do anything was worse than battling hoards of raiders, at least then he could do something. "Carilloc's made up his mind. He doesn't dither long. Not his style at all. Are you going to give me my bottle back?" Fitzhugh held out his hand. "Oh, sorry," Starbuck murmured taking one last drink. "It's been yahrens since I've had anything really decent." "What's a 'yahren'?" Fitzhugh asked. "A long time," Starbuck replied. "So we're stuck here. Might as well do what we can do in the meantime: Wait and pray for someone to come get us." "Hey, Fitzhugh," one of the guards called as he came down the stairs. "Your partner's decided on a change of plans." "He has?" Fitzhugh asked. "What brought this about?" "He said something about how he could trust Celestina." "Mice!" Fitzhugh muttered, once again missing the proper Terran exclamation of "rats". "So that means I can stay, right?" "Yes, you can stay. However, Carilloc wants the little blonde guy to come with him." "Me?" Starbuck yelped. "Why?" "As Carilloc's safety measure." The guard had been followed by several others, and was now unlocking the Galacticans' cell. "What does that mean?" Starbuck looked rather frantically around. He wasn't sure he wanted to be with Carilloc alone. "It means he wants you on board so your friends don't blow him out of the sky," Fitzhugh said, taking another drink. "Oh, great, another 'proof of good intentions'. Why is it always me?" Starbuck moaned, as the guards waved him out of the cell. "Just lucky I guess," Apollo murmured. "Well, don't go anywhere," Starbuck said with as much levity as he could muster. "Hey, can I have a last drink?" He asked Fitzhugh. "Sure, take the whole bottle." Fitzhugh swung open his cell door and handed the bottle to Starbuck. "It wasn't locked?" Apollo gasped, as the guards relocked HIS cell door with a firm clack of finality. "Why should it be?" Fitzhugh looked innocent. "I didn't do anything to make Carilloc mad." And with that Apollo was left in the dungeon alone. NEXT TIME... Will Apollo remain in the dungeon? Will Commander Adama be upset by this? Will Carilloc get the whole story out of Adama? Will the Czarina Celestina get involved in this? ------------------------------ STARBUCK AND APOLLO (separated) AND HOBART FLOYT AND ALACRITY FITZHUGH (separated) CHALLENGE THE HOMICICAL, SUICIDAL, MANIACAL CENTURIONS OF THE CYLON EMPIRE (linked by transduction)...Part 6 FOR DUTY, DUTY MUST BE DONE..... Thus Starbuck was hustled directly on board the 'Justice Prevails'. As he was escorted up the gangplank, he noticed that the woman painted on the side of the ship bore a striking resemblance to the woman he kept glimpsing in portraits and scanners. "Who is this lady?" he asked Carilloc as he was waved to a chair. The ship was actually fairly small with the control room opened to the main passenger's compartment. "That is Her Grace, the Czarina Celestina." Carilloc answered quite calmly. "Now, Lieutenant, I am prepared to trust you to sit quietly while we make our trip to the 'Galactica'." "Oh, sure, no problem," Starbuck smiled. "In all fairness, I should mention that the internal defenses of this ship are trained upon you and I will have no hesitation to use them if necessary." "Why do I not doubt this one bit?" Starbuck murmured mostly to himself. "Because I am a man of honour. I would not go back on my word." Carilloc gave him one of those sly smiles. "Now, Hobart, remember to be extra careful," a lovely soprano voice came from the entrance of the ship. "Fitzhugh won't be there to protect your rear." "It's him protecting your rear that has me worried," a soft baritone answered her. Starbuck caught a glimmer of a smirk from Carilloc. Was it possible? "Hobart! You know better." At that moment, the pair entered the ship. Sure enough, it was the lady Starbuck kept glimpsing, accompanied by a short man. He was barely as tall as the Czarina. In fact, it was a close call as to who was taller. The man was wearing a sky blue uniform and the Czarina was wearing the outfit Starbuck was becoming familiar seeing: white gown, red sash and tiara in her dark hair. "Administrator Floyt, Your Grace, this is Lieutenant Starbuck," Carilloc said, giving the Czarina a slight nod of deference. "Hello, Lieutenant," the Czarina smiled, her blue eyes sparkling. "Please don't do anything that would cause Carilloc to do something drastic, and I would appreciate it if Hobart comes back in one piece." "Well, I would hate to do anything that would cause such a lovely lady grief," Starbuck gave her one of his most ingratiating grins. To his surprise, the Czarina looked up at the ceiling. "I don't believe it. I thought there was only ONE Fitzhugh." She turned to Floyt. "Now, hurry back." She kissed him. "I'll be waiting." "I know you will," Floyt murmured and returned her kiss. With a last parting look, she left the ship. "Okay, down to business." He took his seat. When the tarmac had been cleared and control had granted him permission to lift off, the 'Justice Prevails' started it's journey to the 'Galactica'." WHEN ALL NIGHT LONG.... (or WHAT'S HAPPENING ON THE GALACTICA?...) Omega stifled a yawn. It was nominally the "midnight shift". Other than one of the patrols being overdue, it had been pretty quiet on the bridge for centars. The patrol, of course, had been Apollo's and Starbuck's. Omega didn't see the point in sending them on patrols any more. It was as if they were jinxed. The number of Vipers they managed to damage and maim OUTSIDE of combat was incredible. Starbuck had probably met a woman. They could put Starbuck in the farthest reaches of space and he would still find a woman in a manner that was somehow uncanny. Below Omega, Athena muffled a giggle. Probably watching the never-ending adventures on the "The Valorous and the Vain". Apparently, the writers had decided to feature an endless parody on some of the fleet's more well known pilots. Even now, a blond, brash pilot was getting his comeuppance on the show as the entire female cast spurned him. "This is the 'Justice Prevails' requesting permission to board....This is the "Justice Prevails' requesting permission to board." Omega snapped to attention as the message came through. The transmission had come through the wideband channel indicating that it wasn't one of the fleet's ships. He proceeded to lock onto their frequency and adjusted the scanner. Soon he had the picture of a man's face. Carilloc was doing the calling. "What is the purpose of your request, 'Justice Prevails'?" "To discuss the unwarranted intrusion of one of your patrols and to return one of your pilots." Carilloc's voice was silky smooth even through the light static. "Don't forget the basestars!" Omega heard Starbuck's voice. "Lieutenant, there never were any 'basestars'," Carilloc gave what appeared to be a sigh. "What?!" Starbuck yelped. "But you said...." "It was a diplomatic bluff. You were being uncooperative. I had to persuade you otherwise." "You could have asked..." "I did. And your friend was a total prig," Carilloc almost snapped. Starbuck shut up. Omega nearly laughed despite the situation. This guy had described Apollo in one sentence almost perfectly. Carilloc turned back to the screen. "I am requesting permission to board your vessel under the code of diplomatic immunity." "If you will wait just a moment, while I contact those with the proper authority," Omega said calmly. "Of course," Carilloc answered just as calmly. He had finally found someone he could properly discuss the matter with. NEXT TIME... Will Adama be happy to see Carilloc and Floyt? Will Starbuck be happy to be "home"? Will Apollo be let out of the dungeon? Will Siress Tinya make her demands? ------------------------------ STARBUCK (returned?) AND APOLLO (imprisoned) AND HOBART FLOYT (investigating) AND ALACRITY FITZHUGH (imbibing?) CHALLENGE THE HOMICICAL, SUICIDAL, MANIACAL CENTURIONS OF THE CYLON EMPIRE (nothing but a diplomatic bluff?)...Part 7 POOR WANDERINGS ONES, THOUGH THOU HAS SURELY STRAYED... (or THE GALACTICA'S LANDING BAY...) Omega had dutifully informed Tigh and Adama of their visitors' request to board the Galactica, which naturally had been granted and now the little group was on its way to the landing bay. The visitors' ship had been a tight squeeze, but as it was little bigger than a large shuttle they had managed. "They did mention something about a 'Terran Commonwealth'," Omega said, briefing Adama en route. "'Terran'?" Adama echoed, the word having caught his attention. "That is the organization Administration Floyt claimed to be an agent of," Omega confirmed. "Commander, they could have gotten this information from Lieutenant Starbuck." As always Colonel Tigh was taking the cautious route. He was also aware of Adama's obsession with finding Earth. "Possibly," Adama said. "But the other gentleman - "Count Carilloc," Omega said seamlessly. " - did not claim to be Terran. And he does appear to be in charge." * * * "I thought you said you were a man of your word," Starbuck complained to Carilloc as they walked down the gangplank of the 'Justice Prevails'. Floyt was following just behind and watching this interaction with some amusement. "I am," Carilloc said quietly, coming to a halt at the end of the gangplank. "But what about those basestars? Didn't you just make them up?" Starbuck thought he had Carilloc. Floyt knew better. "My dear Lieutenant, I didn't say anything about any basestars. You told me about them." "But they were on the scanner readout! You specifically pointed them out." "I pointed out 4 symbols. You obviously decided that they were basestars. And you also decided that they were not a pleasant thing to see." Starbuck fell silent; he looked rather frustrated. It was perhaps fortunate that Adama, Tigh and Omega entered the landing bay at this time. A contingent of warriors was standing by quietly, but at ready. Adama wasn't trusting Council Security, Starbuck noted. Adama paused momentarily as he caught sight of the 'Justice Prevails'. It just did that to people. He recovered his composure quickly and led the way to the visitors. Not knowing what salutation to begin with, he started with the obvious: "I am Commander Adama; this is Colonel Tigh." Omega as always was left out, that person who was indispensable but seldom recognized. "It is a pleasure to meet you," Carilloc answered, well versed in the ways of diplomacy. He gave a small bow of greeting. "I am Count Carilloc of the Terran Protectorate of Kirovia and this is Administrator Floyt of the Terran Commonwealth. I believe you already know Lieutenant Starbuck?" "Yes, I do," Adama conceded with a glance at Starbuck which told Carilloc volumes. It was the same slightly exasperated look that Floyt quite frequently used with Fitzhugh. There was a pause as Starbuck looked at Carilloc. "Am I free to go?" Starbuck asked. "I am not restraining you," Carilloc answered. "I think that determination would perhaps be better made by your Commander." "You can go, Lieutenant. But I will be wanting to speak to you later," Adama ordered. He would be wanting a full report. Starbuck started to go, a bit relieved and then paused. "What about Apollo?" he called over his shoulder. "Yes, where is the Captain?" Adama put a touch of menace into his deep voice. "Oh, that is one of the things that I've come to discuss," Carilloc brushed it off lightly. "He's just been detained for a bit." Carilloc smiled. "I think we should discuss this in quieter surroundings," Adama said. They started off for his office (after making a quick stop at the decon station at Tigh's insistence) Carilloc's sharp eyes noting the condition of the ship he was in. It had a lot of obvious wear-and-tear that even regular maintenance couldn't hide. THE DEAD OF THE GHOST'S HIGH NOON... (or YOU JUST CAN'T KEEP A GOOD VILLAIN DOWN...) "What is the current status of the basestar?" a human voice asked Lucifer. "Fully operational," Lucifer answered. "Good. Have you scanned the planet below?" Having projected the Galactica's present course, it was rather obvious that Adama was heading towards this planet therefore he had some purpose in mind. "Yes, your eminence, it is quite overrun with humans." Lucifer said this as if referring to insects. "As I expected," Baltar said with a rather smug tone. "And I expect that Adama has made contact with this planet." "If you are referring to the ship that was tracked going from the planet to the Galactica, then, yes, Adama has made contact." "Good, very good." Baltar chuckled and rubbed his hands together. Lucifer waited for the inevitable phrase. Baltar didn't disappoint him. "I have a plan. A cunning plan." OH, TIS A REGULAR ROYAL THING I WEEN... (or BACK IN THE DUNGEON...) "Captain? Captain?" a beautiful soprano voice woke Apollo. He looked up to see a startling lovely woman leaning over him. For a brief moment, he thought it was Serina, but then full consciousness came to him. "Yes?" He sat up. Other than the omnipresent guards outside his cell, which currently had the door swung open, two women were standing within it. One of them was Genelle, looking as if she would like an excuse to nail him to the floor, and the other with long black hair and blue eyes and dressed in a casual black silk ensemble, he hadn't met before. "Captain, we have a small problem which we think you can help us with," she said. "I could do that much better if I were out of this cell." "I'm aware of that, Captain." Irritation flashed in her blue eyes. "So, what's the problem?" "Apparently, one of your 'basestars' has flanked your fleet and is approaching Kirovia." "What can I do about it?" Apollo said, rather annoyed that these women expected that a lone pilot could do anything. "Well, Captain, since you have experience dealing with these Cylons, we want you to come with us." "You are going to take on a basestar?" Apollo stood up. The lady didn't flinch. "They haven't left me with any other alternative." "We could call the Galactica and get help." "Captain, there isn't time. Your ship is still quite a distance away. I'd really rather not see Kirovia in ruins," the lady sighed, starting for the door. Genelle motioned for Apollo to follow. "Just who are you?" Apollo yelped, not sure he wanted any part of taking on a basestar with two women he knew nothing about. The lady laughed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm so used to everyone knowing who I am. My name is Celestina." And with that, she led them out of the dungeon with regal grace. NEXT TIME... Will Apollo save the planet? Will Count Baltar succeed with his "cunning plan"? Will Adama be happy to see Baltar? Will Fitzhugh return? ------------------------------ STARBUCK (on board) AND APOLLO (on a suicide mission) AND HOBART FLOYT (onlooking?) AND ALACRITY FITZHUGH (on something?) CHALLENGE THE HOMICICAL, SUICIDAL, MANIACAL CENTURIONS OF THE CYLON EMPIRE (and Baltar)...Part 8 (ongoing...) WHEN THE NIGHT WIND HOWLS...(or ON BOARD THE RISING STAR....) A group met within a darkened room. It was rather mandatory for conspiracies even if the group meeting was the Council of 12. "Would someone please turn a light on?" Siress Tinya snapped. Sometimes the Council really annoyed her with their odd habits. "All right," Sire Domra muttered, switching on the illumination. "That's better," Tinya acknowledged from her place at the head of the table. "Now, you all know why we are here." "No, we don't," Someone chirped from the back. "We are here because Commander Adama has made contact with an inhabited planet, and, as usual, neglected to even inform us, the elected leaders of the fleet." "Adama doesn't trust us, you know," Domra spoke up. "Can't say as I really blame him though after that incident with the Nomen." "Mistakes happen." Tinya regained control of the assemblage. "Adama is not blameless either. The endless quest for Earth may be the biggest mistake of all." "So what are you proposing?" "Adama is at this moment speaking with representatives of the latest human civilization that we have encountered. I propose that we apply for immigration status with these people." "It would get us out of these death-traps," another person in the back snarled. "So how are we going to get Adama to even listen to us?" Domra asked. "I have an idea," Siress Tinya smiled. FOR I AM THE TRUE EMBODIMENT OF THE LAW... (or BACK ON THE BATTLESTAR...) "Now, about my pilot, Captain Apollo...." Adama started out pleasantly, after offering his guests some ambrosia. For the moment Floyt and Tigh remained silent observers in Adama's office as they watched Carilloc and Adama size each other up verbally. "Yes, the brash young man," Carilloc smiled, using a more diplomatic phrasing. "I believe he entered Kirovian airspace without so much as a polite request." "It was inadvertent, I'm sure." "I'm sure it was. But the fact remains he and his comrade, apparently flying a surveillance mission in what appears to be military craft quite heavily armed, violated our airspace." "Purely defensive armament," Adama said. "Of course," Carilloc purred. "And then we discovered that they belong to an entire fleet. Oh, granted it is rather -er- loosely organized, but it is still quite a fleet." "Are you suggesting that we are an invading force?" Adama asked rather startled to find himself on the defensive. "I'm suggesting nothing of the kind. I am merely noting that this fleet appears to have the capabilities to do so." Carilloc locked gazes with Adama in a silent showdown. Adama was the first to blink. "I can assure you that we are not an invading force. We are refugees seeking asylum with Earth." Adama said trying to keep his composure. (To Floyt's surprise he could hear Fitzhugh's voice echoing mentally "Yeah, We'll grant you asylum. Lock you all in the looney bin." Fitzhugh was definitely affecting his thinking.) "Yes, I believe your pilots mentioned this fact. And I believe the Administrator can more adequately answer your questions about Terra or 'Earth' as you seem to call it." Tigh had been watching closely. He could tell the Commander was getting ready to just shoot Carilloc and be done with it. Adama had never met anyone so cagey, so sly, so insinuating, so shrewd, so - so infuriating while being so polite about it all. "Commander, we understand your eagerness to reach Terra," Floyt said, "but it would violate protocols." "And what are the proper protocols?" Adama asked. There was a tiny quaver in his voice. He had a feeling that he didn't want to hear what was to come. He was right. "Well, there is the paperwork applying for refugee status within the Commonwealth, of course. In addition, a special addendum must be attached explaining why this refugee group is so large. And then there are the procedures that would allow clearance to Terra itself, but that would only be applicable to a small party for conferee purposes. Also, I suppose you would need to submit an application for citizenship - " "But don't you have any procedures that would allow ships in distress a dispensation?" Adama interrupted, smiling rather rigidly. He had come all this way only to be stopped by bureaucracy. Something one didn't just blast their way through. (Fitzhugh was virtually the only person capable of cutting through the red tape successfully, but Adama didn't know that and Floyt wasn't about to tell him.) "Of course, we have procedures, but your ships are still in good condition...somewhat..." Floyt looked around. They'd last another few years, but after that.... "We are in dire need of certain supplies," Adama said. Tigh almost gaped. The Commander was as close to begging as he had ever seen. "Oh, but that can be settled quite easily without going to Terra," Floyt said happily. "Kirovia is close to a major trading route. It wouldn't be difficult to purchase supplies near here." "Yes, on Isuzu there is a major outpost," Carilloc confirmed rather gleefully. "Gentlemen, I appreciate your help," Adama said between gritted teeth. He smacked the intercomm, nearly breaking it, and summoned Athena. "Lieutenant Athena will escort you to the Officer's Club where you can relax for a moment, while I discuss this with my officers." Tigh could have sworn he heard Carilloc chuckling as he left the Commander's office. As soon as they were gone, Adama rested his forehead on his desk. Tigh distinctly heard him muttering over and over: "Lords, I'd rather deal with the Council of 12....." Unbeknownst to him, he was soon to get his desire. GO YE HEROES, GO TO GLORY, THOUGH YE DIE IN COMBAT GORY... (or BACK ON KIROVIA....) "What did you do to them?" Apollo asked, looking at three charred and semi-melted heaps of metal that had once been Cylon Centurions. On the way to the tarmac, it had been explained to him that the Cylons apparently had also sent a patrol and when they didn't cooperate, the Kirovians had "frozen" the ship's controls with a narrowly beamed stasis field and brought it down in an operation that was very expensive and very energy consuming. "Oh, Master Fitzhugh took care of them when they didn't cooperate," Celestina said. Fitzhugh just grinned. "With WHAT?" Apollo still gaped at the former Centurions. "With this." Fitzhugh pulled out his sidearm: big, black, and formidable. "The Admiral's Avenger. I carry it for luck." "Enough chit chat; time to go," Genelle said, opening the Raider's hatch. "Yes, let's get moving," Celestina started to climb in. Apollo grabbed her elbow and restrained her. "Wait, I know my way around in this type of thing, but do you?" Apollo said, not wanting to be responsible for another woman's death. "Captain, I assure you I am quite capable," Celestina replied. "Can I be sure of that?" "Well, she could give you a quick demonstration of her sharpshooting ability right between your eyes or any other body part you care to designate," Fitzhugh said lightly. Apollo looked a bit shaken. "Do you want to help or not?" Celestina asked. "We could just leave you here." "No, no, I'll go," Apollo conceded, deciding that if they were going to be foolhardy enough to attempt this he might as well give them a few more centars of their currently expected lifespans. "Good, Fitzhugh can pilot this thing...." "I've flown one of these before," Apollo said a bit miffed in finding that all he was going to be allowed was a supporting role in this effort. "Wonderful, you can give me a few pointers," Fitzhugh said, bouncing into the cockpit and occupying the main pilot's chair. NEXT TIME... Will the Council deliver it's ultimatum to Adama? Will Count Baltar deliver his ultimatum to Adama? Will Carilloc deliver HIS ultimatum to Adama? Will Adama survive all the ultimatums (or ultimata)? ------------------------------ STARBUCK (playing) AND APOLLO (sneaking) AND HOBART FLOYT (watching) AND ALACRITY FITZHUGH (skulking) CHALLENGE THE HOMICICAL, SUICIDAL, MANIACAL CENTURIONS OF THE CYLON EMPIRE...Part 9 NOTHING VENTURED, NOTHING GAINED... (or IN THE OFFICER'S CLUB...) Starbuck had retired to the Officer's Club in order to engage in a relaxing hand of pyramid. (He had been through decon naturally; he didn't want to repeat that nasty episode.) He was soon joined by Boomer, Jolly, and the rest of his wingmates who had heard something of the gossip running through the ranks. "Hey, Starbuck, where's Apollo?" Boomer asked as casually as possible taking up his cards. If he wanted to talk to Starbuck, he had to play. That was the rules. "Oh, he's been detained for a bit." "Come on, Starbuck, let's have it," Jolly whispered, also looking at his cards. "We know some guy from Earth is on this ship." "And how do you know that?" Starbuck puffed on his cigar and examined his cards. "The Commander's got THAT gleam in his eye that he ALWAYS gets when someone new mentions Earth," Boomer said. "Wouldn't worry about him," Starbuck muttered, flipping a few cubits into the center of the table. "It's that other guy...." Jolly and Boomer exchanged a frantic look. They hated it when Starbuck did this. Despite Boomer's rotten hand, he matched Starbuck's cubits. Jolly followed suit. Starbuck's smile widened. "Count Carilloc from the nearby planet. Can spook the living daylights out of anyone. I'm sure the Commander's having a wonderful time dealing with him. Hope he has a better time than Apollo..." Starbuck upped the stakes. Boomer and Jolly sighed and did what they had to do. "So where's Apollo?" Boomer insisted. "Oh, down on Kirovia rotting in the dungeon." Starbuck grinned, displaying his cards. Boomer and Jolly groaned, as did the onlookers; Starbuck had nearly a complete pyramid while they had virtually nothing. "Care for another hand?" Fortunately, Boomer and Jolly were saved when Athena, escorting Carilloc and Floyt, entered the room. "Why, hello, Lieutenant," Carilloc said slyly. "It's nice to see you again." "Yeah, hello, Count," Starbuck answered. "Negotiations over so soon? Have we surrendered to you yet?" No, because I haven't demanded your surrender," Carilloc smiled. "Starbuck, the Commander wants to see you," Athena told him. Starbuck was all too glad for an excuse to leave. There was an awkward pause as the group sat down at a table. "Well, what do you do for amusement here?" Floyt finally asked Athena. "Not much," Athena answered. "Wait around for the next crisis." "Sounds much like life anywhere," Carilloc said. "Especially Administrator Floyt's life." "Then you should be quite at home here. The Council's been quiet for too long. I expect they'll do something soon." IN ENTERPRISE OF MARTIAL KIND... (or MEANWHILE BACK ON THE BASESTAR...) "Your exaltedness, the planet's population is concentrated mainly along the equator and primarily in three areas," Lucifer said, as smarmy as ever. "Excellent," Baltar rubbed his hands together. His black eyes gleamed with a sort of feral excitement. "That is ideal. Only a limited number of targets. Even your Centurions should be able to deal with that." It was clear he didn't hold the Cylons' offensive tactics in high regard. "What is our next move, your magnificence," Lucifer asked. He knew it was going to an eventual failure. A creative one, no doubt, but a failure at any rate. Sometimes he thought the Empire merely kept Baltar around as an example of what NOT to do. "Lock on target the three populated areas of the planet - what was its name - "Kirovia, your slendiferousness." "Kirovia." Baltar nodded and then grinned, waving one hand nonchalantly. "And then contact my old friend, Adama." Unbeknownst to him at that moment a Raider silently slipped into the landing bay behind another returning patrol. Inside the Raider, a whispered conversation was going on. "Told you I could land it," Fitzhugh said. "You almost ran into the back wall!" Apollo hissed back. "How was I to know these things have lousy brakes?" Fitzhugh retorted. "Captain, I believe you'll need this," Celestina said handing him back his sidearm. "Hopefully we won't have to rely on that toy," Fitzhugh smirked. "It'll work, okay? It's worked before." Apollo peered out the window, waiting for the Centurions to leave the landing bay. "All right, they're gone. Let's go." "To the central computer. Just as you informed us," Genelle reminded him. "I have no intention of going to the barracks." Apollo opened the hatch and the quartet started off towards their destination, crawling under Raiders and sneaking behind anything that would give them cover. WHEN TO EVADE DESTRUCTION'S HAND... (or BACK IN ADAMA'S OFFICE...) "They did mention some lost colonies," Starbuck answered the Commander. "It wasn't clear if they were referring to our colonies or other colonies though." "But clearly Earth - or Terra - is the dominate planet?" "Yes, I'd say so." "This might be it," Adama murmured with that weird gleam in his eyes. "This might really be it...." Before he could get any farther, the comlink signalled "Commander, I have an incoming call from the Council on line," Omega's voice came through. "Just what I need," Adama murmured. "Put it through." A moment later, Siress Tinya's image appeared on the screen. "Commander, I'm afraid I have something that must be discussed." "Siress Tinya, I'm rather busy at the moment. Could it wait." Adama tried to be polite. "No, I'm afraid not, Commander. It has come to our attention that you are currently negotiating with representatives from the planet near here. By an oversight, the Council was not informed of this fact." Her tone made it clear that she didn't consider it an oversight. "We haven't had time to contact the Council, Siress," Adama sighed. The only thing worse than dealing with the Council was dealing with Baltar and his latest cunning plan. "We are trying to determine if these people could pose a threat to the fleet. They are currently detaining Captain Apollo. "That is no excuse, Commander. - " "Commander!" Omega's voice cut in. "We are receiving a transmission from a basestar located on the far side of Kirovia. Baltar wishes to speak to you immediately." Adama couldn't believe it (and neither could Starbuck who was witnessing this). If there was another worse than dealing with the Council or Baltar, it was dealing with both at the same time. "Siress Tinya, you must excuse me - " "And be fooled by your little trick? No. You've played that card enough as it is. We're tired of being manipulated with the eternal threat of the enemy." "Siress Tinya, I must attend to this now," Adama roared in his deepest tone. "Very well, Commander. But until you permit us to speak with these representatives, the Galactica will NOT be supplied by any other ship in the fleet." Siress Tinya snapped and cut the connection. Starbuck said nothing. Tinya had just effectively cut off the external food supply, and the manufacturing facilities that produced things like fuel, vipers, and clothing. The Galactica designed for long missions would hold up for a while, but it could get mighty uncomfortable. Adama growled, but switched to the other line. "Adama, my old friend...." "Listen, Baltar, just cut the nonsense and tell me what you want this time," Adama snapped. "Temper, temper," Baltar said in his sing-song voice. "But if you insist on deleting the pleasantries of civilized life: This basestar has locked onto several targets with the planet you have made contact with. If you do not accede to my request of merely surrending the Galactica to me within the next centar, I will give the order to open fire." "Why should I care what you do?" "Because I know you Adama. You may not care what happens to yourself, but I doubt if even you would willingly accept the responsibility and the guilt for allowing another colony to be destroyed while you play your diplomatic games." NEXT TIME... Will there be a next time for Adama? Will the Council further complicate things? Will Baltar open fire upon Kirovia? Will Carilloc be upset by this? ------------------------------ STARBUCK AND APOLLO AND HOBART FLOYT AND ALACRITY FITZHUGH (tonight competing for the title of "Mr. Saviour of the Universe") CHALLENGE THE HOMICICAL, SUICIDAL, MANIACAL CENTURIONS OF THE CYLON EMPIRE...Part 10 GO TO GLORY AND THE GRAVE... (or BACK AT THE OFFICER'S LOUNGE...) Athena had just been having a wonderful conversation with Administrator Floyt and Count Carilloc, when the klaxon sounded. She jumped up ready to dash to bridge, but Carilloc restrained her. The pilots ran out of the room. "What's happening?" he said, outwardly composed. "I don't know, but I imagine it means shooting. Excuse me." Carilloc released her, but after exchanging glances with Floyt, both men followed her to the bridge. When they arrived, Adama looked irate and ready to take it out on anyone. "What are these men doing on the bridge?" the Commander snapped, glaring at Carilloc. Starbuck was standing next to the Commander. "Ascertaining the extent of damage about to be done to Kirovia," Carilloc stated in a controlled voice. Adama paused, rather startled. Omega jumped into the breach. "Commander, the basestar is drawing closer to the planet." "We have to do something," Floyt said. "Yes, but what can we do without Baltar frying the planet below?" Starbuck was temporarily bereft without Apollo's latest mad scheme. "Is there something you wish to tell me, Commander?" Carilloc's asked, crossing his arms. "I think Starbuck has pretty much summed up the situation. You are now being threatened by a hostile force, but it's not us." "Oh, you were just kind enough to lead them here then?" "We didn't know Baltar was following." Adama said. "Do you just want me to surrender to him?" This had definitely been a long day. "No," Floyt stepped forward. His green eyes glittering with determination. Despite the situation, Carilloc smiled. The "Noble Terran Hero" had returned. "Tell me how I can get on that ship." "You're insane!" Starbuck yelped. "No, I'm not. But if I don't disable that ship before it can initiate an attack, it's likely that Kirovia will be seriously damaged." "There is that Raider in the landing bay," Starbuck murmured. Floyt cocked his head. "Raider? What is that?" "One of their ships that we captured a while back." "Starbuck, you've flown it before," Adama said. "We were lucky that time. Surely, they've come up with better defenses since then." "You might be lucky again," Carilloc said. "Administrator Floyt is willing to take that chance." "That's easy for you to say," Starbuck scoffed. "If you don't assist me, I will go alone. It's better to attempt it, then to be a coward," Floyt said. He took a step towards the door, then paused and looked back. "At the very least escort me to the landing bay, wherever it is." TRIPPING HITHER, TRIPPING THITHER, NOBODY KNOWS WHY OR WHITHER... (or ON THE BASESTAR...) "Your eminence, we seem to have a problem," Lucifer informed Baltar. "And that is?" Baltar sighed from his perch. "We appear to have been invaded." "What? AGAIN?" he left his seat, and walked over to the consoles. "Where? And by whom?" He ordered the Centurion at the controls. The controls were merely an affectation for Baltar's sake. Lucifer routed the command directly through the induction net that he was tied into. Baltar had never realized that he had never been in real control. Regardless of this, an image came up on the monitor. "Ah, Gawds," Baltar moaned, casting a glance to the ceiling. "Not that idiot Apollo...It would have to be Adama's son..." He fell silent pondering something. "Adama's son? Why not? Contact the Galactica," he snapped. "But why?" Lucifer protested. "Surely the Commander knows Apollo's here." "Well, now, so do I." A moment later communications were established. Adama looked quite harried. At the edge of the monitor's image, Baltar saw a man dressed in grey watching Adama. Baltar dismissed him as a simple onlooker. "Commander," Baltar said with false gaiety. "Have you considered what I've said." "Yes," Adama snapped. "Why don't you leave innocent people out of this?" "As you did on Caprica?" Adama looked a bit uncomfortable at the innuendo. "What's past is past. The people on the planet have done nothing to you." "Adama, I'm sure your realize that your son is on this basestar - " Baltar paused, surprised to see Adama take a quick breath. Apparently Adama hadn't known. Apollo must be acting on his own. "I can promise you, he won't get out this time." With that Baltar nodded to Lucifer to cut the communications link. The image of Adama was replace with the normal visual Cylon machine codes. "Your eminence, how can you promise anything when you don't have Apollo in your control?" "Because I will have him and his friends locked up soon," he muttered. Apollo had been in the company of two women and another man that Baltar hadn't recognized. No doubt they were heading towards the central core. Baltar remembered that plan. And now he mentally counter-planned to block it. He issued orders summoning a squad of Centurions. The rest he placed on stand-by in the landing bays, ready to launch at a moment's notice. During this shuffling, none of the centurions noticed a lone Raider land. A few moments later, two figures exited the craft. "Apparently, your luck is holding," Floyt whispered. "I'll decide that when we get out of here," Starbuck mumbled, leading the way to the central core. WITH CAT LIKE TREAD [STOMP!]... (or IN ANOTHER PART OF THE BASESTAR...) "So, where are these robots?" Celestina asked. They had gone quite a ways and hadn't met anything. They were still creeping as silently as possible, staying close to walls and in shadows. "I don't know," Apollo shook his head. "I know where they are," Fitzhugh muttered. "Where?" Apollo asked, peering around a corner. "All in a group waiting to jump us." "Then just avoid the group," Genelle said. "I'll try, okay?" Apollo said. "We'd appreciate it," Celestina smiled. A muffled clang sounded from an intersection behind them. The group stopped and listened intently. "I think someone's behind us." "Well, let's jump THEM," Fitzhugh said, looking around for a place to hide. "What's this?" He asked as Apollo motioning to an alcove. "I don't know. Some sort of maintenance station?" Apollo looked stressed. "Looks adequate; let's hide," Genelle said. "Be a tight squeeze," Celestina murmured. "Oh, I don't mind," Fitzhugh said. "Can I stand next to you?" "Just get in and shut up," Apollo hissed. He thought he heard footsteps approaching. They didn't sound like Centurions though. After what seemed like a long time, the sound of soft footsteps became obvious. Apparently someone was following them. He had no idea how his compatriots would handle taking the offensive, so he prepared to take the lead. The footsteps paused, resumed, paused, and resumed again, coming closer. Finally, he determined an optimum distance based on the sounds and jumped out, weapon ready. Fitzhugh followed him, letting out a blood-curdling scream. NEXT TIME... Will Apollo fry whoever he has just ambushed? Will Baltar succeed with his plan this time? Will Starbuck and Floyt find their way to the cental core? Will Adama crack under the stress of it all? ------------------------------ STARBUCK AND APOLLO AND HOBART FLOYT AND ALACRITY FITZHUGH (tonight competing for the title of "Mr. Saviour of the Universe") CHALLENGE THE HOMICICAL, SUICIDAL, MANIACAL CENTURIONS OF THE CYLON EMPIRE...Part 10 WITH CAT LIKE TREAD [Continued]... "Don't shoot!" Floyt yarped, hitting the deck, covering his head. Starbuck paused, stunned by the sight of Fitzhugh, Apollo, and two women aiming weapons at him. "Oh, it's you. Knew it all the time," Fitzhugh said lightly, reholstering the Admiral's Avenger. Apollo and Starbuck both let out a sigh of relief. Celestina went over to Floyt. "Hobart? Are you all right?" She knelt by his side. "Fine, fine. Fitzhugh's not going to shoot, is he?" He got to his feet and they joined the group. "'fraid I was going to shoot you?" Fitzhugh grinned. "No, I was afraid you were going to shoot something else and leave me with ringing ears for a week," Floyt retorted. "Sneaking around a basestar with 3 other people? What's gotten into you?" Starbuck whispered in Apollo's ear. "They insisted." Apollo left it at that. "Let's get going," he announced and the group reformed, Starbuck and Apollo in the lead, Celestina and Genelle in the middle, and Floyt and Fitzhugh covering the rear. WHEN YOU'RE LYING AWAKE WITH A DREADFUL HEADACHE... (or MEANWHILE WHAT'S UP WITH THE COUNCIL...) "Siress Tinya, what are you doing here?" Tigh moaned, as she stepping onto the bridge. "As Commander Adama has not seen fit to even return out communiques, I have come personally to speak to him," she said in a regal voice. "We are kind of busy at the moment," Tigh said. "The Galactica is always busy. We're tired of excuses." Tinya brushed off Tigh and walked over to Adama, who was leaning over the communications screen next to Omega. He looked very unhappy, and when he looked up and saw her he looked even more unhappy. "Siress Tinya, I really don't have time to argue right now." "That's quite all right as I'm prepared to wait until you do have time, seeing as the civilians of this fleet have very little else to do except kowtow to the military." "Siress, we're in the midst of an imminent crisis here." "I'd say you are," Tinya said almost pleasantly. "No, I mean a real crisis," Adama said, deciding it would be easier to just tell her the situation. "Baltar is currently threatening to destroy the planet below unless we surrender." Tinya didn't blink. "Well, what are you doing about it?" "We've sent a small force to attempt to disarm the basestar." "And if that fails?" "Vipers have already been launched and are en route to intercept the basestar." "That's quite satisfactory," Tinya nodded. "And while they are en route, we have time to discuss our little problem." Carilloc, who had been watching this whole exchange, smiled to himself. IN SILENCE DREAD OUR CAUTIOUS WAY WE FEEL... (or BACK AT THE BASESTAR...) The rest of trip to the central core was uneventful. In fact, taking the central core was uneventful; no one was there. It set everyone's nerves on edge. Fitzhugh, of course, joined the ladies examining a computer console. Celestina and Genelle were busy trying to access the military capabilities of the ship. In an adjoining room, Floyt was surveying the equipment and holding a discussion with Starbuck and Apollo on its purpose. "Induction net? What's that?" Floyt asked. "It's a communication net between all these Centurions on the basestar," Starbuck explained. "What happens when they leave the basestar?" "Uh - well - uh, they appear to have some independent programming for some things, but they pretty much carry out the last order they've received." Starbuck shrugged. "What you're telling me is: If I can reprogram them from here, they'll do whatever I've commanded?" "Yeah." Starbuck nodded, as Floyt leaned over the console and removed the cover. "Oh, there's one other thing; if you break the continuous communications link with any other basestars, someone will show up to investigate." "Great, now you're adding restrictions..." Floyt muttered. "Just hurry up," Apollo said. "It's too quiet, something's up." "Maybe Baltar's just slow today." "This is Baltar's basestar? Why did it have to be his?" Apollo moaned. "Isn't it always?" "Is that bad?" Floyt murmured, running his wrist-computer over the circuits. "Hopefully, we won't find out," Apollo said. THY DOOM IS NIGH...(or BALTAR ARRIVES...) "Shoot first, brag later," Baltar murmured over and over to himself like a mantra. He was sick and tired of these Galacticans just walking in and running around like they owned the place. So he had let them in unhindered - just like most traps. Now he was about to spring it. "Shoot first, brag later." They never listened anyway, so it really didn't matter if he delivered his triumphal address to an arrogant warrior or to a corpse. "Shoot first, brag later." He readied his firearm as he approached the central core. "Shoot first, brag later," he burst into the room with his Centurions close behind. "Who in Hades are YOU?!" he shrieked, seeing Celestina. He had expected Apollo who wasn't in sight. "Hello," she smiled sweetly. "Are you the owner of this ship? They didn't tell me there were any people on board." "Ergh...ur...yargh." Baltar did what most men did when meeting a pretty woman for the first time; he was speechless. "We didn't mean to intrude," Celestina continued, batting her eyelashes a bit. "Of course not," Baltar finally managed to choke out a few coherent words. It had been a long time since he had even seen a woman. He had definitely been on this basestar too long. "But you see there was this fleet - " "The Galactica," Baltar moaned. "Yes, you've heard of them?" "I didn't realize Adama was down to sending women and - and - " He faltered when he saw Fitzhugh. He didn't know how to describe Fitzhugh. "Sidekicks," Fitzhugh said. "Oh, we're not from the Galactica." "You're not? Where are you from?" Baltar said, curious despite himself. "Kirovia. The planet your ship is currently orbiting." Genelle also batted her lashes. "We were just visiting," Fitzhugh said innocently. "We'll leave now." "I'm sorry but you can't. Adama has surely just sent several squadrons over and will be attacking shortly." "Oh, dear, Adama can't do that," Celestina murmured. "Why not?" "Because we are on this ship. We might get hurt." "That is a stunningly original observation on your part," Baltar muttered sarcastically. "Thank you," Celestina said with a coy smile. Baltar seriously wondered if this woman had any brains. "Now, my dear, would you kindly tell me where Captain Apollo is?" Baltar still had his sidearm at ready, and his Centurions stood behind him ready to shoot on command. "Captain Apollo?" Celestina looked baffled. "I'm not sure. Do you know?" she asked Fitzhugh. "Apollo? Is he that uptight fellow with the command complex?" Fitzhugh looked just as puzzled. "Command complex?" Baltar was lost. "Yeah, 'Mr. I-have-to-be-in-charge'." "That does sound like him," Baltar mused. "Where is he?" "Don't know." Fitzhugh shrugged, silver hair rippling. "That's a pity." "Why?" Celestina and Genelle asked, eyes wide. "Because I'll just have to dispose of you. I don't have time to watch my back while hunting him down." "We'll be good!" Fitzhugh pleaded, dropping to his knees and crawling forward. "What is your problem?" Baltar took a step backwards. He couldn't retreat much farther due to the Centurions. "I don't want to die! Please, don't shoot me!" Fitzhugh wailed, Celestina and Genelle remained motionless watching him. Fitzhugh had crawled up to Baltar's feet and clutched at his ankles. Stunned Baltar tried to shake free. "Let go of me!" he yipped. "Please, please, don't kill me!" Fitzhugh wailed, resting his forehead on the floor. His silver and grey mane covered his back, shoulders, and reached down to his waist. It was virtually impossible to tell even where Fitzhugh's elbows and hands were. "You're insane! Release me, you idiot!" "Okay," Fitzhugh was up in a flash, Admiral's Avenger suddenly an inch from Baltar's nose. With laser pistols, Celestina and Genelle took out the half-dozen Centurions in an amazing display of precision shooting. Baltar froze, disgusted. "Should have just shot, instead of chattering," Fitzhugh smiled, while relieving Baltar of his weapon. "What is going on out here?" Apollo and Starbuck entering from the adjoining communications room. They paused when they saw the carnage. "Oh, is this the Apollo you were asking about?" Fitzhugh said, sitting Baltar down in a chair. Baltar merely glared at the warriors. "Fitzhugh, we still don't know why he was on this ship," Celestina said. "He was going to kill you," Apollo snapped. "No, I don't know that yet. We were just having a nice chat." "Look, lady, you don't know him. We do. And he would have gotten around to killing you sooner of later." "Captain, why should I take your word for it? I don't know you either. And if he was going to kill me, he would have already done it," Celestina said. Baltar couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But we're the good guys." Starbuck said. "Well, of course, you are," Fitzhugh retorted. "No one ever says they are the bad guys." NEXT TIME... Will the "good guys" deactivate the rest of the Centurions? Will Adama attack the basestar? Will Fitzhugh ever get to shoot something? Will Count Baltar ever learn? ------------------------------ STARBUCK AND APOLLO AND HOBART FLOYT AND ALACRITY FITZHUGH (in the exciting finale....) CHALLENGE THE HOMICICAL, SUICIDAL, MANIACAL CENTURIONS OF THE CYLON EMPIRE...Part 12 WHEN TO EVADE DESTRUCTION'S HAND... (or BACK TO THE GALACTICA...) "Siress Tinya, if you will excuse me our Vipers have just about reached the basestar," Adama nearly snarled, but managed to sound halfway polite. "If you will permit me, I think I may be of some help," Carilloc stepped forward smoothly. Adama was all too glad to be rid of Tinya. "Assuming Kirovia is unharmed by the end of the day," he cast a glance at Adama. "Omega, what is the position of our Vipers," Adama glanced at the monitor. "Almost within firing range, Commander." "No word from Starbuck or Apollo?" "None, sir." Omega said in that impersonal tone Adama knew so well. "Maintain a close watch on all communications coming from the basestar. Tell me if anything unusual comes through," Adama ordered. "It would hard to 'waggle' a basestar's wings." WHEN TOLD THAT THEY WOULD ALL BE SHOT... (or BACK TO THE BASESTAR...) "Okay, I've done it," Floyt entered the room. "Done what?" Baltar asked, despite his situation. "I've rigged up a loop. Communications are effectively halted but not broken," Floyt explained. "The -er- robots aren't going anywhere." "Oh, Hobart, I knew you could do it!" Celestina kissed him. "Gentlemen, we have a problem," Genelle said in an icy voice. "What now?" Apollo said. "It appears your Galactica has sent a force against this ship." "I knew it was too good to be true!" Fitzhugh yelped. "We save the day and we're going to be killed anyway!" "Well, just call the Galactica and tell them to break off the attack," Starbuck said reasonably. "Uh, do you mean using ship-to-ship communications?" Floyt asked. "What else?" Starbuck shrugged. "Uh," Floyt paused, "I used some of those circuits to rig our loop...." "We're going to die!" Fitzhugh moaned. Baltar laughed; he couldn't help himself. "What's left?" Celestina said, examining what console she had. Floyt joined her. "I think this is the communications network from this ship to its fighters," Floyt murmured. "The Galactica's fighters are almost in range," Genelle said, looking at the scanner readout. "Floyt, can't you patch that into the ship-to-ship communications?" Fitzhugh suggested. "It won't work," Baltar drawled. "Why not?" Starbuck asked. "They're machines. They don't need voice capability." "What's that mean?" Floyt asked. "It means you can't talk over it." "So, what can you do with it," Apollo snapped. "Why should I tell you?" Baltar glared at Apollo. "Because I would appreciate it," Celestina said sweetly. Baltar shrugged. "Send an assorted amount of tones corresponding to machine commands over it." "Tones?" Celestina mused. Floyt had patched his wrist computer into the circuitry and an oddly musical ripple of sounds was heard. SING A MERRY MADRIGAL... (or BACK ON THE GALACTICA...) "Commander, no activity sighted from the basestar," Boomer's voice came over the comm-link. Adama paused. It could have meant that Starbuck and Floyt had been successful or it could have meant that the Cylons just hadn't launched their fighters yet. "No word from Starbuck or Apollo?" Adama glanced over to Omega. "No, sir. I've received nothing." Adama remained silent. Carilloc and Tinya came up beside him, watching the scanners, and waiting for the next move. "I don't have a choice," Adama sighed. "Boomer, commence attack runs." Amidst the cacophony of muted sound coming from the scanners, something caught Carilloc's attention. He suddenly looked towards Omega's station. "Belay the attack!" Carilloc ordered. "What?" Adama roared. Carilloc had already gone over to Omega. "Can you turn that up?" He said. "Turn what up?" Omega looked slightly baffled. He glanced over at Adama, who looked ready to toss Carilloc out the airlock. "Whatever is making those notes." "It's only the usual Cylon attack codes." "No, I don't think so," Carilloc said. Omega again looked at Adama. The Commander nodded. Omega fiddled with the controls, amplifying the Cylon codes. It was a short sequence of notes repeated over and over sounding oddly like a melody instead of the more common nonsense. "Stop the attack," Carilloc declared in a absolutely authoritative tone. "Why?" Adama said, annoyed that someone was usurping his command. "Because I don't think you're enemies would be playing the Kirovian Anthem." "Boomer!" Adama barked. "Call off the attack. Starbuck appears to have been successful." "Yes, sir," Boomer sounded relieved. "Hmmm," Carilloc mused, "I didn't know Floyt knew the Kirovian Anthem..." WHY WHO IS THIS WHOSE EVIL EYES... (or BACK ON THE BASESTAR...) "Come on, Carilloc," Celestina murmured. "Surely you recognize this." It had been her idea to send over what had to be the most recognizable tune on Kirovia, especially to those who heard it at least three times a day. The group on the basestar watched the scanner indicating the approaching Vipers. "What if Carilloc isn't in a position to hear it?" Apollo asked. "He'll hear it," Fitzhugh smirked. "It's impossible to do anything without Carilloc knowing about it. It would be so unlike him NOT to be where the decisions are being made." There was a tense moment, and then they saw the scanner indicate that the Vipers were retreating. "We're going to live!" Fitzhugh fell to his hands and knees to kiss Celestina's feet. "Is this normal for this guy?" Baltar asked, watching Fitzhugh groveling at her feet. "Yes, Standard Sidekick Distraction Number 12," Floyt answered. "Once again Carilloc proves he's omniscient," Genelle muttered. "Well, let's get out of here," Apollo said. "We've done what we've needed to do..." "I'm afraid you're a bit premature in that regard," a silky smooth voice came from the door. Lucifer stood there. He wasn't controlled by the induction net, and neither were the two Centurions behind him which he had transferred over to his direct control. Baltar laughed. He was so busy enjoying the warriors' look of shock and surprise, that he didn't notice Fitzhugh slowly drawing his gun behind the cover of the console. "I've had enough for today!" Fitzhugh barked, popping up with Admiral's Avenger and firing. Floyt, Celestina, and Genelle had barely enough time to hit the deck. The others were temporarily blinded and deafened by the single shot. "By the Lords of Kobol, what was that?" Starbuck gasped. His vision barely clearing. Lucifer, the Centurions and most of the wall were gone. "I need a drink," Fitzhugh muttered, putting away his sidearm. "I can handle only so many life and death situations in one day." "He's got a portable fighter's laser!" Apollo moaned. His ears were still ringing. "Let's go pick up Carilloc and go home," Celestina said. "Hey, wait," Fitzhugh said, coming over to her. "Haven't you forgotten something?" "What is that?" Floyt asked, but he knew what it was. "My 'thank you' kiss," Fitzhugh smiled. "Of course, how could I have forgotten?" Celestina stood on her tiptoes and kissed Fitzhugh's cheek. "These people are nuts," Apollo whispered to Starbuck. "Hey, you didn't see what happened on the Galactica. I wouldn't be surprise if your father turned the fleet around." Starbuck shook his head trying to clear up his hearing. "We should get back then," Apollo said starting for the door. "Aren't you overlooking something?" Genelle asked the warriors, who paused. "What is it now?" Starbuck sighed. "Your friend over there," Genelle waved at hand in Baltar's direction. He was still trying to recover from Fitzhugh's weapon's astonishing light and sound display. "What are you going to do about him?" "We could just leave him," Starbuck said to Apollo. "Alone?" Celestina asked. "Isn't that a bit cruel?" "I tried to tell you before he doesn't deserve our help," Apollo walked up to her, trying to get her to back down by sheer unspoken intimidation. "Yes, I know you have," Celestina replied. All those who knew her could recognize the impending tones of regal wrath surfacing. Baltar looked on intrigued. The lady did have a brain. "But you haven't told us why." "Because he betrayed the colonies," Apollo snapped. "What other reason do you need." "I need to see the evidence. Trial records, perhaps?" "We don't have any trial records, except the Council's decision," Apollo said. "But we know what the situation was." "That's interesting," Celestina mused. "And you expect me to simply take your word for it. I do believe you were the ones who originally violated Kirovian airspace, which is another matter that has yet to be resolved. But I don't think it's going to be resolved here, so bring your friend and let's go join Carilloc." "Why not?" Starbuck said. She had said it in such a manner that it left very little room for argument. "I could use a drink." "So could I," Fitzhugh chirped up. "Floyt, can we stop and pick up something?" SO GIVE THREE CHEERS, AND ONE CHEER MORE... (or BACK ON THE GALACTICA...) Apollo, Starbuck, and Genelle reached the Galactica before the others, as they did indeed take a quick sidetrip to Kirovia. Cassiopeia was waiting for them at the decon station after they had gone through that necessary item. She took one look at Genelle and shook her head. "Starbuck, how do you manage to do it?" Cassie said. "Do what?" Starbuck looked mystified. "Find a woman in a Cylon basestar?" "Oh, it's not what you think it is. Honest." He gave her his best smile. "Believe me," Genelle said. "He reminds me too much of Fitzhugh to even contemplate getting involved." "Me? Like that silver-haired looney?" Starbuck looked appalled by the thought. "Now that you mention it. I do see a definite similarity," Apollo said, much happier to be in familiar surroundings. "Should I even ask who this Fitzhugh is?" Cassie smiled. "Uh, you're better off not knowing," Starbuck kissed her. "All right, I'll take your word for it. The Commander wants to see you." "Why doesn't this surprise me?" Starbuck muttered. "Come on, let's get it over with," Apollo started towards the bridge with the rest following. While Adama's two favourite warriors were filling him, Siress Tinya and Carilloc in on their latest exploits, Floyt, Fitzhugh, and Celestina made their appearance. Celestina had changed into her more diplomatic garb, that of her long white gown and sparkling tiara in her upswept hair. Fitzhugh carried more good Kirovian wine in anticipation of the usual diplomatic negotiations. The company around the conference table rearranged themselves after the usual pleasantries. Celestina naturally sat between Carilloc and Floyt, while Fitzhugh tried to sit as far back in the corner as possible. Genelle naturally sat on Carilloc's other side. "Your Grace, I heard it was you who sent the anthem," Carilloc said. "Yes, I figured that would get your attention." "But you had no idea that I was in a position to hear it." "I know better than that. If something important is going on, you'll be watching." "Just trying to assist," Carilloc gave her a slight nod. "I appreciated it." Celestina smiled. "Now, what have you been discussing?" "A request for supplies, Terran diplomatic recognition, temporary visas, applications for citizenship, clearance for travel, and other related items." "Hmm, sounds like lots of paperwork, doesn't it, Hobart?" "Yes, the sooner it's started the better. It may take years to properly go through all the channels." Floyt agreed. "'Years'? What are those?" Adama asked. "A long time," Fitzhugh and Starbuck both piped up from their corners. They exchanged a grin. "How soon can we expect supplies?" Tinya asked. "Siress, almost immediately, if I am able to persuade those who need a bit of encouragement in granting your request," Carilloc gave her his enigmatic smile. "We could invoke an emergency subsistence clause," Floyt agreed. Siress Tinya looked pleased. She had previously discussed this with Carilloc, and had primarily brought up the matter to irk Adama and it was working as she planned. Adama looked very annoyed. "And about the other items?" Adama asked a little too restrained. "Can't you encourage the proper people?' "As I've told you, Commander," Carilloc smiled, "those items are of a different priority. They are not of immediate concerns - " "Don't you have any compassion?" Apollo yelped unable to keep silent any longer. "Are you going to trap us here?" "No, Captain. You're free to go back from where you came," Carilloc said calmly. "Excuse my son. We have been on a long journey and it is frustrating to being brought up short by regulations and paperwork." "There are reasons for the paperwork, Commander," Floyt said. "It wouldn't do to let just anyone through. The Commonwealth does have a responsibility to protect its own citizens." "We understand that, but isn't there anyway to simplify the process?" Adama looked very tired. "I supposed we could establish a liaison for this purpose," Celestina murmured, glancing at Floyt. Carilloc raised an eyebrow, clearly Celestina has something in mind. "Yes, someone could be specially assigned to act as a facilitator between the Galactica and the Commonwealth," Floyt said. "I think that would help matters some." "If that's our best alternative, I suppose we will have to accept it," Adama sighed. "Oh, good, we should have a drink to celebrate our agreement," Celestina smiled. "Fitzhugh, would you do the honours?" "I never thought you'd ask," Fitzhugh began distributing filled glasses. While the Galacticans were occupied, Carilloc leaned over to Celestina. "You Grace, I suspect you obviously have someone in mind to act as the liaison. May I ask whom?" he whispered. "Oh, I think our latest political asylum case would be ideal for the job. He's quite familiar with the situation already," she murmured with a sly smile. "We met him on the basestar; his name is Count Baltar." THE END