Greetings From Space Family Robinson
By: Paul Robison
October 2004

A Battlestar Galactica/Lost In Space/Space Family Robinson Crossover
Battlestar Galactica is the property of Universal Studios & Glen A.
Larson Productions, (c) 1979.  
Lost In Space is the property of Irwin Allen, Space Productions and 20th
Century Fox Studios (c) 1965.
Space Family Robinson is the property of Gold Key Comics, (c) 1962.  

All are used without permission but with no intent or anticipation of
monetary gain.  This is solely for my amusement as well as the amusement
of whoever else may read it. 
SPOILERS: "Greetings from Earth" (Battlestar Galactica)
          "Baltar's Escape" (Battlestar Galactica)
          "Experiment In Terra" (Battlestar Galactica)
          "The Reluctant Stowaway" (Lost In Space, Season 1)

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

Prologue: 
From the Adama Journals:
     Morbus.
     Who or what was he?
     Obviously, one of the most enigmatic figures ever encountered by the
human survivors.  He was discovered amid the wreckage of a large
spacecraft on a lonely asteroid, and brought aboard the Battlestar
Galactica.  He claimed to be of a higher degree of being than we were and
demonstrated this through his powers of telekinesis, telepathy, and a
direct power over the will of others.  This last power, as I recall,
brought Baltar to the Council of Twelve to stand trial for High Treason. 
Some people also credit him with greatly increasing the output of our
Agro Ships.
     These feats greatly impressed the Council of Twelve and gained
Morbus a large popular following among the people of the fleet as well. 
His offer to lead the fleet to the legendary planet Earth excited one and
all.  Morbus was, in fact, on the verge of election to leadership of
humanity at the head of the Council when he mysteriously disappeared. 
Morbus was last seen on the asteroid on which he was first discovered in
a violent confrontation with Apollo, which is only sketchily recalled by
Sheba and Starbuck.  Another mystery is the connection (I personally
believe there is one) between Morbus and the appearance of the bright,
ultrafast spacecraft (?) that dogged the fleet during this period.  These
craft intercepted and held a number of warriors, although all were
eventually returned safely.  They too, seemed to have had their memories
of the recent past wiped clean.  Some credit these strange mystic lights
with the contemporaneous improvement in agro-yields.
     Perhaps most puzzling of all is the fact that the three witnesses to
the disappearance of Morbus, Apollo, Star-buck and Sheba, all returned
with a memory of explicit time/space coordinates that they claimed were
the those of the mythical planet Earth.  None of the three could explain
the source of these coordinates; in fact, they felt as though they were
blurting them out without conscious control, as though another were
speaking through them.
     I have ordered the fleet to proceed on course to these space/time
coordinates, as I believe them to be genuine.  We will be there in about
a yahren or two.  But what will we find?   Only time will provide the
answer to that question.

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

     While the Galactica led the rag-tag fleet through the stars, Apollo,
Blue Squadron's strike commander led his friends and subordinates, Lt.
Starbuck, Lt. Sheba, daughter of the legendary Commander Cain and late of
the unaccounted-for battlestar Pegasus, and the beautiful paranurse
Cassiopeia down a narrow passageway deep within the battlestar.  They
were wearing noise mufflers over their ears.  The deep throbbing of the
Galactica's giant engines obliterated the sound of their footsteps.
     Starbuck tapped Apollo on the shoulder and he turned.  "Is this your
idea of a fun evening?" he said.
     Apollo indicated that he couldn't hear what Starbuck was saying.  He
motioned for them to follow.  Cassiopeia pulled a slightly reluctant
Starbuck along as Apollo led them to a ladder that rose vertically into a
tube.  Apollo pointed up and Starbuck made an "after you" gesture. 
Apollo nodded and scaled the ladder with the two women, Starbuck bringing
up the rear.

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

     Inside the great celestial dome, the wheel on the hatch in the floor
spun and then stopped.  The hatch hinges opened and Apollo's head
appeared, then his body as he climbed up into the small, dimly lit
chamber.  A single chair, elevated a few feet off the deck, sat in the
center of the chamber.  Around it were a number of controls and a
scanner.  Attached to the top of the chair were telescopic instruments
that were obviously intended for use by whoever sat in it.  Apollo helped
the others up into the chamber, then closed the hatch and spun the wheel. 
The roar of the engines immediately was reduced to a muffled hum,
enabling Apollo and the others to finally remove their ear mufflers.
     "Where in heaven's name are we?" Sheba asked.
     Apollo climbed the short ladder into the chair and began to activate
the switches.  The panel before him began to glow as the lights came on
one by one.
     "This," Apollo said, "is as high as you can get on the
Galactica...directly over the main thrusters.  It's a great spot to get
away from everyone...to think."
     Starbuck slipped his arms around Cassiopeia from behind and kissed
her cheek.  "A cozy little place like this could be used for more than
just thinking," he whispered.  Realizing what he had in mind, Cassiopeia
weakly struggled to break his grip.
     "Starbuck!" she whispered back, coyly.
     Apollo finished turning on the switches on the console, then looked
down at the others, smiling like a kid with a new toy.
     "Everybody ready?" Apollo asked.
     "For what?" asked Sheba.
     "Watch this," said Apollo.
     He pressed a button.  Servo-motors whined as the metal shield around
the dome began to slide into the floor, like the petals of a flower
irising open.
     As the shield slid away, revealing all the stars around them,
Cassiopeia gasped and grabbed Starbuck.  Sheba automatically reached for
the base of the chair.
     As the shield slid completely into the tube, it left them all thrust
up into space.
     All of Apollo could clearly be seen outside the dome; the others
could only be seen from the knees up.  Apollo rode the chair like the
bowspirit of a sailing ship.
     "It's incredible!" Sheba gasped.
     "Frightening!" Cassiopeia interjected.
     "Relax, ladies.  We're perfectly safe.  The bubble's constructed of
transparent tylinium," Apollo said.
     Starbuck looked around.  "It's so different from a viper
cockpit...so open."
     Apollo stared out at the stars as they moved past.  "It's like
riding in the hand of God," he said.  "At least, that's the way I like to
think of it."  He turned to Sheba.  "Do you like it?"
     "Like it?  By the Lords of Kobol, Apollo, I love it!" she gushed.
     Apollo climbed down from the chair.  "Then give it a try."
     As Sheba climbed up into the seat, Cassiopeia asked, "What's this
bubble used for, besides scaring me?"
     Apollo laughed.  "It's called a celestial chamber.  The only one
left on the Galactica.  When the old girl was launched over five hundred
yahrens ago, there were a number of these domes.  Back then, the
navigators came up here to take star sightings, to sort-of double check
the navigation computer."
     He looked around.  "I doubt anyone's been here, except us, in a
hundred yahrens or more."
     Sheba peered through the celestial instrument mounted on the chair. 
"For something as old as you say, all the instruments seem to be in
working order."
     "Not all of them," Apollo said.  "I had to repair the ones that
didn't.  I like coming up here to shoot the stars the way my ancestors
did."
     "Sometimes, buddy, I get the feeling you'd have loved living in the
past," Starbuck said.  "Knocking around some planetary system in an
old-fashioned sub-light rocket, taking yahrens just to move from one
solar system to another."
     Apollo laughed.  "It may have been slow, but it was more of a
challenge.  Yeah, I think living back then might have been more fun."
     Sheba checked the equipment, turning on a scanner.
     "Uh, Apollo?  What exactly did you set this scanner for?"
     "Long range communication," Apollo said.  "But you won't get
anything on it.  Those gamma frequencies are outdated.  We don't use them
anymore."
     "Well, somebody's using it, dear," Sheba said.
     Concerned, Apollo clambered up the steps for a look.  "What?"
     Sheba pointed to the scanner.  "It's weak, but we're receiving a
signal."
     Apollo could see a very fuzzy, streaked picture on the screen. 
There was no color.  The sound was barely audible and static filled, yet
he could just barely make out some words:
"...is...beginning...day...Alpha... and...holding...
difficulty...loading...holding...TV...10...deep...planet...
planet...human...Robinson...resourcefulness...control...
holding...tracking...holding...concept...a ...vehicle...
atomic...quarters..."
     The picture kept breaking up, but occasionally stabilized enough to
give the impression of some type of saucer-shaped spacecraft perched atop
a spidery launch platform.
     "Holy felgercarb!" Starbuck gasped.  "What is that?"
     "We'll know in a micron," Apollo said.  "I'm recording the images
now and trying to get a directional fix."
     "We're losing it," Sheba said.
     But Apollo fought valiantly to hold the picture.  Despite his best
efforts, however, the picture broke up completely, leaving only the
raster.
     "Damn!" he cursed.  "It's gone!"
     "Any idea what it was?" Starbuck said.
     "It looked like a spacecraft going through its final pre-launch
sequences," Sheba said.  "But I've never seen anything like it."
     "I have," Apollo said, "in the mythological scans."  He turned to
Starbuck.  "On all twelve colonies there were tales about sightings of
spaceships not unlike the one we've just seen.  I think they were
called...'unidentified flying objects' or 'flying saucers.'"

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

     The pilot's quarters were dark, with all the warriors in sleep
period.  Apollo, Starbuck, Sheba and Cassiopeia entered and came down the
steps towards Boomer's bunk.  Apollo and Starbuck came around the left
side of the bunk and Sheba and Cassiopeia the right side.  Boomer, they
could see, was in the middle of a very pleasant dream.  He rolled over, a
smile on his face.  Apollo gently shook him.
     "Boomer," Apollo whispered, "wake up."
     Boomer, barely opening an eye, sleepily said, "What...huh..."
Suddenly, both his eyes flashed open.  "Oh no!" he whined.
     Disgusted, Boomer rolled over, away from Apollo and Starbuck. 
"Apollo...I was just about to..." And then he saw the girls, Cassiopeia
and Sheba.  "...Ah... what's goin' on?"
     "We need your help."
     "Too bad.  I need sleep."
     Starbuck interjected.  "Boomer, we need you because you're an ace at
long range communications."
     Boomer closed his eyes.  "Doctor Wilker's better.  Why don't you go
bother him?"  "We'd like nothing better," Sheba said, "except that he's
gone to the electronics ship."
     "Good for him."  Boomer was almost back to sleep; he was even
beginning to smile a little again.
     Apollo refused to give in.  "We picked up a transmission on a gamma
frequency."  "Good for you..." Suddenly, Boomer's eyes snapped open
again.  "On what?"
     "I said we picked up a transmission on a gamma frequency."
     Boomer sat up on the bunk, swinging his legs over the edge.  "No
way!  That frequency's ancient!"
     "That's what makes it so interesting," Starbuck said, "and weird!"
     "You've understated the matter as usual, Bucko," Boomer said.  "Did
anybody think to record it?"
     Apollo held up the thin plastic imaging reproduction wafer he'd
used.  "Right here."
     Boomer snatched the wafer out of Apollo's hand.  "Why didn't you say
so?"
     Boomer came around the bunk half-naked except for his shorts.
     "Ah, Boomer.  You going to the lab like that?" Cassiopeia chuckled.
     "Huh?" He looked at her, then down at his shorts.  "Oh, no!"  With
that, he rushed to the lockers for a fresh uniform as the others laughed. 


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

     In Dr. Wilker's lab, Boomer studied the same fuzzy picture Apollo
and his friends saw on the scanner in the celestial dome.  He
contemplated the superstructure of the vessel.
     "Any idea what it is?" asked Starbuck.
     "You are definitely looking at a spacecraft getting ready to
launch," Boomer said.  "But I don't know of what nationality.  It reminds
me of an early model Colonial spacecraft.  You know, the ones we flew
before the Colonial Fleet converted to tylium-based propulsion.
     "Can you enhance the signal?" Apollo said.
     Boomer shook his head.  "That's a bit out of my territory.  Maybe
Wilker can do it with the computer."
     Boomer removed the plastic card from the equipment and crossed
toward another console with a number of screens.  "Best I can do is try
to clear up the audio," he said.
     The others followed him as he inserted the card in the computer and
the video came up on a number of screens at once.  Boomer began to play
with the frequencies.  They heard it a little clearer than before, but
still mostly obliterated by static.
     Voice one: "In...minutes...journey."
     Voice two: "...now. ...Counting."
     Voice three: "Fellow...success... ... explosive... disaster...
exempt... dawn... humanity... Peace... mankind..."
     Voice two: Alpha...minus...counting."
     Boomer stopped the recording, fast-forwarded it and fine-tuned the
equipment some more, this time picking up a little more clarity.
     Voice one: "Astronauts... order... ...enter... freezing... for
launch... Will Robinson, Penny Robinson, enter tubes."
     Voice two: "Judy Robinson... tube."
     After that, the scanner went blank.
     Boomer straightened up and turned to the others.  "That's all,
folks."
     "Boomer," Sheba said.  "I'm not so much curious as I am a little
scared.  I mean, just where in the name of all that's holy is that coming
from?"
     Boomer took a deep breath and thought about it.  "It may be a
harmonic signal, a doubling or quadrupling of the original transmitting
frequency.  It's one of the reasons we don't use those old gamma
frequencies anymore.  Now, if it is a member of the harmonic family, its
point of origin could be relatively close by."
     "What if it's not?" Apollo said.
     "Then it's a primary frequency," Boomer continued his lecture. "But
primary frequencies can't cover long distances and maintain peak signal
quality for very long.  As weak as it is, I would guess it to be
intergalactic."
     "Integalactic!" Starbuck yelped.  "Then we've picked up something
that could have been transmitted a hundred yahrens ago.
     "Or a thousand," Boomer continued, "or ten thousand, or even a
hundred thousand.  There's just no way to tell how long that signal's
been traveling through space."
     Boomer replayed the recording and the others leaned forward to stare
at the scanner.
     Cassiopeia continued to look at the image with a sense of awe,
seeing through the static what appeared to be the image of a very young
dark-haired girl, maybe twelve yahrens old, clad from collar to feet in a
silver jumpsuit, entering what appeared to be a man-sized plastic tube. 
"You mean we could be looking at the past?" she said.
     "Quite possibly," Boomer replied.
     "I wonder whose?" Apollo said, looking some more at the fuzzy,
streaked picture.  Little did Apollo know that he would be finding that
out in only a yahren.

Chapter One: Spaceship snare

     He was asleep when the discovery was first made.
     He was slouching in the cockpit of his small, sleek, long-range
viper ship.  A dead cigar dangled from between two fingers of his right
hand and there was a flurry of ashes dusting the toe of one of his boots. 
Beyond the window of the cockpit stretched the endless dark silence of
space.
     All at once a tiny red bulb of light began to blink urgently on the
control panel and a nasty buzzing noise filled the tiny cockpit.
     Lieutenant Starbuck straightened up, blinking.  "Okay, okay," he
mumbled at the dash panel.  "Calm down."  He stuck the cigar between his
even teeth and scowled at the timedial.  "Hey, you weren't supposed to
wake me up for another centon yet.  I'm still on a sleep period." 
     "Starbuck?"
     The familiar voice of the Galactica's strike commander and
Starbuck's best friend came piping out of one of the speaker grids.
     Brushing back his straw-blond hair, Starbuck inquired, "Do I have
you to thank for being dragged out of a well-deserved snooze by the seat
of my astrum, Apollo?"
     "To that, I would plead guilty, old friend," replied Apollo.
     "Aww.  Did you miss my pithy conversation?"
     "Listen, shake the felgercarb out of your brain and act like you're
awake, okay?"
     "I'm fresh as a daisy," Starbuck assured him as he relit his stogie. 
"Proceed."
     "I'm roughly fifty sectares ahead of you and---"
     "Gee, looks like you'll beat me to the finish line and win the gold
trophy."
     "Will you please get serious?  Some-thing weird is starting to show
up on my scanners."
     Frowning, Starbuck said, "Oh boy.  In other words, you and I are not
alone out here."
     "No, we're not.  I think I'm tracking a ship of some kind."
     "Not a Cylon craft?" Starbuck stiffened in his seat and stared out
the cockpit window.  "We haven't run into one of those gallmonging
snitrods in one hell of a long time."
     "Nope.  This isn't a Cylon craft, good buddy.  Far as I can
tell...well, I'm getting a better look at it as we're talking and...Holy
Frak!"
     Starbuck's left eye narrowed.  "Sounds like something you've never
run up against before," he said.  "What have you got on it?"
     "Round, saucer shaped, atomic motors, three decks and... omigod! 
I'm reading six life forms aboard!
     "Humans?"
     "Yes, Starbuck, they're humans...but their biorythms don't match
Colonial norms!"  Apollo said.  "Can you catch up with me?  Quick."
     "If not quicker," said Starbuck.

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

     The Galactica moved majestically through space, an immense yet
slim-lined multi-level vehicle.  The greatest fighting ship of the
Colonial Fleet, the huge battlestar was a self-contained world housing
thou-sands.  And the fate of those thousands, their ultimate destiny, was
in the hands of the ship's commander.
     Commander Adama was thinking of exactly that as he sat in his
quarters aboard the Galactica, one powerful arm resting on his metallic
desk.  "What was that you just said?" he said turning toward the man
sitting in one of the visitor's chairs.
     "Forgive me, Commander.  I was merely remarking that your mind
seemed to be elsewhere," said Colonel Tigh, smiling thinly.  His right
hand fidgeted, as if he was anxious to jot something down that he didn't
want to forget later in the day.
     "Unfortunately, it was somewhere else."  The grey-haired man rose up
and walked to the room's large oval view window.  "Somewhere out there is
an answer."
     "Many answers."  Tigh cleared his throat.  "'But the problem, as I
see it, is---"
     "The only problem you ought to be worrying about, Colonel, is your
impatience."
     "Impatience?  That's not a problem, it's an asset."  He leaned
forward in his chair, fingers rubbing together.  "If you've read any of
my recent reports on---"
     "I've read, and savored, them."
     "Then you know there is considerable concern, not only here aboard
the Galactica, but on the other ships as well that---"
     "By the good graces of the Lords of Kobol, the Galactica continues
to lead her flock, Colonel," cut in the deep-voiced commander.  He gazed
out at the vast dark emptiness they were traveling through.
     "Yes sir," said Tigh.  "But where is she leading them to?"
     "Toward the co-ordinates given us by those great white lights that
vanished as inexplicably as they appeared."
     "We never did find out what they were, or where they came from, as I
recall."
     "There are theories," Adama said.  "Personally, I'm inclined to go
along with those who feel the lights were starships, craft from Earth,
that transmitted the coordinates into the minds of Apollo, Sheba, and
Starbuck.  That gives us hope, since it seems to indicate that on Earth
there is a highly developed technology and that if we can reach there---"
     "I hate to rain on your parade, Commander," Tigh said, "but that
view has very little factual support in its favor.  Morbus'
followers---and he still has many admirers in the fleet---maintain that
this knowledge was his final gift to humankind."
     Adama frowned.  "Gift?  Tigh be reasonable.  He was a malevolent
presence on this ship.  A being devoid of compassion or love, Morbus was
a corruptor in every sense of the word.  Why would that treacherous demon
bestow such a offering to us?"
     "Realizing the mistrust you and your family had for him, Morbus
decided to withdraw rather than provoke grave dissention, leaving us the
guide to Earth he had promised them," Tigh said.  "At least that's what
his admirers believe."
     "And what do you think, Tigh?" Adama asked.
     "I think that the same shock that caused amnesia in the three
warriors also produced a joint wish-fulfilling hallucination in them."
Tigh began to feel some disillusionment.  "Microns ago, you just said,
'if we can reach Earth.  I'm sorry but it sounds like a mighty big 'if'
to me."
     "Yes.  And that is why I have our long-range scouts on patrol." 
Adama faced his restless visitor.  "Watching for some sings that
might---"
     "I have," said Colonel Tigh, standing, "considerable respect for
your son, Captain Apollo.  I know he's out there, piloting one of the
scouting vipers and doing the best he can."  He paused to cough into his
hand.  "Unfortunately, Lieutenant Starbuck is out there too, and you know
what a hothead he is."
     "This 'hothead,' as you call him,' has pulled us out of quite a few
rough places," said the commander as he strode back to his desk. 
"Admittedly he has a tendency to be flippant at inappropriate times. 
He's too fond of gambling and taking risks, yet I still have a good deal
of faith in him."
     Tigh glanced at a wall timedial.  "I'm afraid I have an appointment
elsewhere.  If you'll excuse me, Commander?"
     "Of course.  Get on with whatever you have to do."
     Stopping at the doorway, Tigh said, "The rest of what I wanted to
discuss with you, Commander Adama, I can put in a memo."
     "I'm sure you can," said Adama, a faint smile touching his face.

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

     Starbuck saw it too.
     "I'll be damned," he said.
     "I've got the strangest feeling I've seen this ship before,"
remarked Apollo.
     Their two viper ships were flying in tandem.
     Moving through space toward them was the ship Apollo had first
sighted.  It was like a blunt "flying saucer" with a bubble containing a
flashing light situated in the center of its upper hull.  There was a
large viewport at its bow, a little porthole on the starboard side of its
curved middle hull and the unmistakable outline of the ship's airlock
next to it.  There was a circular disk on the belly that glittered on and
off and Apollo guessed that it was part of the ship's propulsion system.
      Starbuck's forehead wrinkled.  "I'd be happy to tell you who they
are, but they're not responding to my hails."  He rested his unlit cigar
on the panel and punched some buttons.  After a few seconds he nodded. 
"My scanners confirmed what yours indicated," he said after checking the
read-out.  "This thing, basically, is a sublight vehicle, nuclear
powered.  And, let's not forget, there are supposed to be humans aboard."
     "But we don't know exactly what kind of humans."
     "Greetings from Earth," Starbuck muttered.
     "Uh, you wanna run that by me again, ole buddy," Apollo said.
     "Greetings from Earth," Starbuck repeated.  "That's where these
people are from."
     "I wouldn't bet too heavily on that just yet."
     "My gut confirms it," Starbuck told him impatiently.  "We've come
millions of microns, searching for a contact like this.  And here it is."
     "Maybe," said Captain Apollo.
     "Stay where you are, " Starbuck suddenly kicked in his turbos and
went shooting away from the side of the other viper.
     He went zooming toward the strange and unfamiliar silver-gray
spacecraft.  Slowing again, he commenced flying a series of slow, expert
loops around the ship.
     He scrutinized the ship's underbelly and came close enough to the
main viewport to get a good look inside the ship's upper level.  Yes,
there was a helm and seats in front of it, but those seats were
unoccupied.
     "Back off," advised the voice of Apollo.  "You might jar their
chips."
     "I'm not going to unsettle them any," promised Starbuck.  "Don't
fret.  You keep forgetting how personable I am.  Remember when we met
those paranurses from the---"
     "Okay, let's say you're right, and this ship does hail from Earth. 
Hasn't the possibility that the crew has never encountered anyone from
beyond their home planet until now occurred to you?" said Apollo.  "If
that's the case, then they just might be inclined to attack any hotshot
viper pilot, no matter how personable he is, who comes buzzing too
close!"
     "C'mon, use that brilliant diminutive brain of yours," urged
Starbuck as he flew an even lazier circle around the larger ship. 
"Nobody inside this weird crate is going to do anything to me."
     "It's not a derelict, Starbuck.  This thing's moving under its own
power, slowly, I'll admit, and we know that there are people aboard;
people, mind you, not corpses."
     Starbuck was frowning over another scanner readout.  "Speaking of
power, old chum, my scanners don't indicate the presence of either
Corrilax, Solium or Lazon."
     "That means they must be using some other form of explosive
material."
     "Which is another good indication they're from someplace different,
someplace like Earth."
     "Possibly, good buddy, but---"
     "Oh, wait a minute!" Starbuck was now flying a course parallel to
that of the mystery ship.  "There's one thing we've been overlooking."
     "What?"
     "We haven't determined exactly what this vessel's function is, or,
for that matter, what it's doing out here."
     "People go into space for various reasons, Starbuck.  They're not
all sinister."
     "I mean, look at that thing.  It has no markings to indicate point
of origin.  It's like they don't want anyone to know where they come
from.  I've got this terrible feeling they're running from an oppressive
enemy, just like we are."
     "Yep, that could well be," acknowledged Apollo. "Possibly we ought
to just leave them to continue running.  No need to---"
     "No way!  These are, I'm damn near certain, Earth people," said
Starbuck.  "After all our searching and hunting, we are on the brink of
making first contact."
     "And how do you propose we make this first contact?"
     "Simple.  Take the ship home and talk to them."
     Apollo said.  "That might mean exceeding our---"
     "It doesn't.  Dammit, we're on a scouting mission and we've made a
discovery," said Starbuck, sticking the dead cigar back between his
teeth.  "If I was given to fancy lingo, I'd dub this discovery both
monumental and stupendous.  Even nifty."
     "So?"
     "So right now I'm going to drop a parasite control box onto the side
of this baby here," announced Starbuck as he began easing his craft
closer to the larger spacecraft.  "I noticed there's a trio of landing
legs underbelly so I'll be using the control box to activate them so we
can set her down on the docking bay on the Galactica after we finish
guiding her there.  Then we can find out exactly who these people are and
what makes this barge tick.  Okay?"
     After a few seconds, Apollo replied: "I don't think the commander's
going to like that but...sure, okay."

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

Chapter Two: Oh Rapture, Oh Joy

     Commander Adama came striding into the control center, the bridge,
rather, of the Galactica.  He halted, scanning the vast room and noting
that several crewmen and crewwomen were not at their regular posts. 
Instead they were either clustered at the vast view window or around the
communication screen that was linked with Captain Apollo's returning
viper.
     "These people are not attending to their regular duties, Tigh,"
Adama said tersely.  "I demand an explanation, at once!"
     Tigh was standing near the entryway, gazing out at the starfield
beyond their ship.  "It's my fault, Commander.  I took it upon myself to
allow a certain laxity," he replied as he faced the wide-shouldered,
grey-haired Adama.
     Adama said, "Isn't this the sort of behavior you usually dictate
memos about?  Crew neglecting assigned duties, confusion rampant on the
bridge."
     "In normal times, I do take a stand against that, sir.  But these
are not normal times," the colonel said rubbing his hands together. 
"Captain Apollo has communicated the very gratifying news that he and
Lieutenant Starbuck have discovered an Earth ship and are escorting it
back here to us."  
     "Whether or not that ship is from Earth remains to be seen," Adama
scolded.
     "Yes sir.  But I'm certain the vehicle will prove to be outward
bound from the planet Earth," said Tigh.  "Naturally, everyone is
extremely elated and they're anxious for a glimpse of the craft and---"
     "Noted, Colonel."  Nodding, Adama raised his voice.  "Attention on
deck!" he barked.  Every man and woman on the bridge snapped to attention
at the sound of the commander's voice.  "Ladies and gentlemen, I fully
appreciate the uniqueness of what may be happening.  However, you are all
hereby ordered to return to your stations.  This may or may not be our
long-awaited contact with an Earth vessel.  Whatever it is, we must
proceed with maximum efficiency and caution."
     Murmuring, reluctant as children leaving a carnival early, the
crewmembers drifted back to their assigned posts on the Galactica bridge.
     "Thank you," Adama said to them.  "Now, I think I'd better get on
the Unicom and address everyone, since I have a hunch the excitement is
going to be spread throughout the fleet."
     "Unfortunately, it has already," confirmed Tigh, following the
commander to the nearest Unicom pickup.
     "I'd like you to take charge of seeing to it that the designated
area of the landing bay is cleared of all unauthorized personnel.  I've
already alerted Doctor Salik and his medical team to be standing by with
full decontamination crew and equipment."  Adama reached for the Unicom
switch.

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

     Lieutenant Jolly had his broad back turned to the nearest view
window of the rec lounge.  Hunched slightly, a look of admiration on his
plump face, he was gazing a-cross the small table at his date.  "No, I
think you've got a lovely name, Zixi.  Sure, there's a lilt to it and---"
     "You really and truly think so?" inquired the pretty auburn-haired
Zixi.  "Because so many people are prone to---"
     "I know what it's like to have a name jerks kid about," he said.  "I
mean a tag like Jolly is open to attack from all sorts of annoying
angles, you know.  'Not living up to your name today, huh?' or 'Hi Jolly,
you don't look much like your name,' or 'When's your next family reunion,
so we can get our Jollys?' and so on."
     The paranurse's pretty freckled nose wrinkled very slightly.  "With
my name it isn't so much puns and lays on words, Jolly, as it is
just...Well, for one thing it's sort of hard to pronounce right."
     "Zixi?  That's not tough at all.  Hades' bells, I could write a song
around your name with no trouble."
     "Excuse me, but you're not pronouncing it exactly right either."
     He straightened up, smote his broad chest with a fist.  "Then how do
I pronounce it?"
     "The X has more of a Z sound."
     "Aha!" said Lieutenant Jolly, nodding sagely.  "A magamna by any
other name would smell as sweet, as they say."
     "Magamna?  What's that?"
     "It's a kind of flower that grows wild over several planets I've
visited in my day.  The name stinks but the flower itself smells pretty
good," the hefty lieutenant explained.  "Hence, the saying.  It means
that it isn't what your name is, but what you are inside that counts."
     "I agree," admitted Zixi.  "But sometimes I wish my name was Verda
or Fenestra or even---"
     "Say, why don't you tell me more about yourself?" suggested Jolly. 
"Ever since I met you at the billyarks table the other night shift I've
been wondering about you."
     "Let's see," said Zixi, tapping the rim of her ambrosa tankard. 
"I'm an only child.  Both my mother and father have funny names too. 
It's a long family tradition."
     "All right then, let's forget about names," put in Jolly.  "Or maybe
I can make up a nickname for you and then---"
     "People of the fleet, your attention please."  Commander Adama's
voice came booming out of the overhead Unicom speakers.
     "Hey, that's the commander," muttered Jolly, looking away from the
young woman and up at a speaker grid.  "Must be pretty important."
     "Rumors are spreading faster than fact about the discovery of a
manned vehicle to be brought aboard the Galactica," continued the
commander.  "I must ask you all to be patient and cautious in your
optimism.  The incoming vessel will have to be placed in quarantine
before we can allow anyone near it for fear of jeopardizing not only our
own lives but also the lives of whoever may be traveling aboard this
spacecraft.  Bulletins of every phase of our operation will be
transmitted to you as soon as reliable facts become available.  I ask you
to bear with us and be patient.  Thank you."
     Jolly rocked back in his chair as the commander's words faded away. 
"Hey, that's darn exciting," he said, tugging at his mustache.
     An excited murmur of talk was filling the lounge.  The other patrons
began to discuss Commander Adama's message.
     Zixi said, "It may mean we'll be able to settle on Earth."
     "It sure might."  Jolly popped up to his feet.  Then he bent and
took the young woman's hand.  "I remain deeply devoted to you, Zixi...
Did I pronounce it okay that time around?"
     "Pretty near."
     "Good.  Anyway, I want to scoot to the docking area right fast," he
informed her.  "We'll rendezvous again as soon as this crisis passes."
Bowing, he deposited a smacking kiss on her hand and then went trotting
out.

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

Chapter Three: Decontamination
     
     Starbuck, chewing hard on the end of his latest cigar, went hurrying
along the metal-walled corridor.  "I'd like to see them try," he was
saying.
     Apollo, lagging a few paces behind, said, "You know damn well they
won't let us anywhere near the thing until it's safely decontaminated."
     "We found that ship!" said Starbuck.  He halted before a turbolift
door and gave the down button an angry push.  "We hauled it back here to
the Galactica, at great personal risk of life and limb!  Hellfire,
Apollo, it's our baby.  Sort of, you know, like an orphan we found out in
a storm or a stray dog we took in out of the cold."
     "Stop it!  You're bringing tears to my eyes," laughed Apollo.
     The turbolift door whooshed open and the anxious Lieutenant Starbuck
dived in.  "I'd dearly love to see you get exuberant about something. 
Here we've made a fantastic find and you---"
     "People can be pleased and not flap their arms and shoot steam out
of their ears."
     "But that's what life is all about.  Flapping your arms, jumping up
and down,  letting the all the world know you're having the time of your
life," said the lieutenant as the turbolift cage dropped them swiftly
toward the docking area where the ship they found had been taken. 
"That's how you know you're alive."
     "I know dozens of other ways of telling."
     The doors swished open and they saw a long corridor crowded with
people.  At its end two impassive security guards stood blocking the
entrance to the landing bay.
     Spotting Apollo and Starbuck, Lieutenant Jolly pushed his way back
to them.  "Hey fellas, what gives?"
     Starbuck asked his, "Are those security nitwits yonder keeping
everyone out?"
     "Yep, 'fraid so," complained the hefty lieutenant.  "I came hustling
down here from the lounge, leaving behind an absolutely striking young
woman with hair the color of a solar flare."
     "Spare me the details of your sordid love life, Jolly."  Starbuck,
using elbow and shoulder, pushed into the curious crowd.
     Following in his wake, Captain Apollo cautioned, "Don't go punching
anybody in the snoot, good buddy.  Because I won't come visiting you in
the brig."
     "Hooey!" observed Starbuck, his cigar tilting at a warlike angle. 
"All I'm after is fair play.  It's an established rule of galactic
salvage that a lost ship rightly belongs to the discoverer---in this case
me!"
     "This isn't a derelict cargo ship, Bucko!"
     "Stop right there, Starbuck," advised the larger of the two burly
guards.
     "Hi, Reese."  Hands on his hips, Starbuck scowled at the young man. 
"Look, try to comprehend what I am about to impart to you.  Utilize every
single cell of that pea-size brain of yours. That's my baby in there and
I intend to see her!"
     "No admittance."
     "Maybe you didn't hear me, Reese.  I'm the guy who found that
frakkin' crate," Starbuck informed him. "I've got a right to visit...Quit
poking me, Apollo."
     Someone had tapped the feisty lieutenant on the shoulder.
     "Now, as I was saying..." Starbuck had noticed that the guard had
stiffened to attention and he decided he'd better look back over his
shoulder.  "Oh...How do you do, Commander?"
     "Fine, Lieutenant Starbuck," replied Commander Adama, who'd made his
way to the door.  "Allow me to personally congratulate you two for the
excellent job you've done."
     Grinning, Starbuck snapped his fingers.  "All in a day's work, sir,"
he said modestly.  "Now, will you explain to these overzealous guardians
here that I have a perfect right to---"
     "I'm afraid none of us can get a closer look until Doctor Salik says
it's safe," the commander said.
     "Not even you?"
     Adama shook his head.  "Not even me."
     "So what do we do?"
     "We wait."

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

     Captain Apollo fell asleep in a sofa in the pilot's quarters and
dreamed that he was back in the celestial dome, looking at the mysterious
visual signal Sheba had accidentally locked onto.  The details on the
little telescreen were as before, yet, somehow, clearer, free of the
static.
     There was a massive control room in his dream, complete with rows of
instrument banks, and computers.  The walls were lined with giant TV
screens that provided the occupants with spectacular views of stars and
nebulae.  It was a beehive of activity, this control room.  Men in white
smocks were hovering over their instruments, making final checks and
computers were tabulating, all in final preparation for the big launch.
     Suddenly, the scene switched from "mission control," if that's what
it was, to the interior of the spacecraft, where the crew, all of them
dressed in their silver flight suits, was shaking hands and saying their
goodbyes to a man in a smart white military uniform.  Yet, this was no
ordinary crew, it was a family of five members together with the man who
would take charge of their spaceship's controls in case anything went
wrong.
     There were six man-sized vertical tubes on the left-hand side of the
ship's flight deck.  All six crewmembers stepped into them and closed
their eyes.  The tubes closed, and then Apollo could see a strange
yellow-white glow surrounding their bodies.  They were being put into
suspended animation.  The universe all around them would age, yet they
would age but a micron in the time of Man.
     Lift off!  Their spacecraft---the same shape and size as the one he
and Starbuck had brought into the Galactica's landing bay---glowed white
as its great atomic motors came to life, thrusting it upward, off its
launch gantries, into the endless night of space, beyond the infinite!
     Their spacecraft---the same shape and size---No!  By the Lords of
Kobol---the same one!  The same one!  That's where he'd seen that ship
before!
     Captain Apollo's eyes snapped open.  He rushed to the codebox that
was set into  the wall of the pilot's quarters and immediately contacted
his father.
     "Adama here.  Apollo?"
     "Father, the ship that Starbuck and I recovered out in space.  I
think I know her."

**********************************************
  
     "This is incredible," said Apollo, in Adama's quarters, during the
Galactica's  "night."
     Both father and son were looking at a close-up view of the strange
interstellar vehicle on one of the wall monitors.  For such a small ship,
it seemed so imposing, the darkened main observation windows at its bow
filling the screen like the eye of some great cyclopean beast.  Beyond
camera range, technicians, some with hand-held scanners, some with
shoulder-mounted scanners, floated above the ship on repulsorlift
platforms, checking it over for any signs of bombs or other contraband. 
Below them, there were other technicians, Doctor Salik included, in
decontamination suits, hosing the ship down with a concentrated
antiseptic agent to kill any foreign microbes that may have accumulated
on her hull.  "I wouldn't have thought it possible, meeting this very
ship in the trackless void of space," he continued.
     "I would say that it's more than a chance meeting, Apollo," said
Adama, rubbing his eyes. "Now, are you certain this is the same vehicle
you saw in that signal you picked up over a yahren ago?"
     "Oh, I'm positive it's same ship," Apollo said.  "I've never
forgotten the look on Starbuck's face when we first saw it."
     Suddenly, the image of the ship on the monitor was replaced by
Doctor Salik's face.  "Commander Adama?"
     "Is the ship safe for us to approach, Doctor?"
     "As safe as it will ever be for now," Salik said.
     "What in Hades are we waiting for?" Apollo exclaimed, just barely
able to contain his excitement.

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

     A temporary wall of tough see-through plastic stood between them and
the spacecraft.  Somehow, the vehicle, resting now on its tripod landing
legs, looked much smaller sitting in the vast landing bay.
     Doctor Salik took off the headpiece of his decontamination suit and
then nodded back at the ship.  "There were some microbes that had us
worried, but I'm certain we've killed all of them," he said.
     "Any sign of bombs or other weapons?" Starbuck asked.
     "No," Salik said.  "At least, Wilker's defusing team couldn't find
one.  It's just what it appears to be---a sublight transport ship.
     His two associates, Cassiopeia and Doctor Wilker, were standing
nearby.
     "Now, about where this craft came from?" Adama said.  
     Stroking his chin, Salik leaned against a metal guardrail.  "It's
possible, based on fairly unsophisticated early tests, that this ship
that you two warriors have brought to us is, indeed, from Earth."
     "Yeeeowwww!" Starbuck bounced on his heels in dubious delight.
     "You seem awfully jumpy, Starbuck.  Perhaps you would like me to
prescribe a mild anti-depressant?" said Salik.  "They do wonders for your
nerves."
     "Nerves?  Hellfire! I'm the only one around here with any feelings." 
Starbuck pointed a thumb at the ship.  "Everybody ought to be as excited
as I am, Doc, because right inside that crate yonder may be the answers
to all our questions."
     "Maybe," said Doctor Wilker, moving nearer to them.
     "You just now said it came from Earth," said Starbuck, impatient.
     "Actually, that was my colleague who alluded to the possibility of
an Earth origin for that ship," corrected Wilker.  "Let me, before we
proceed further, remind you that he is a medical man, and I'm a
scientist.  Our points of view won't match up."
     "Holy Frak!" said Starbuck, waving his cigar in the air and gazing
up at the fretwork high above.  "The last thing we need right now is a
whole darn lecture in Dumbbell Science 1A, Doc."
     Lieutenant," said the commander, "it might be better if you would
allow me to make the necessary statements and inquiries."
     Starbuck took a deep breath.  "Okay, sorry."
     "Now," the commander continued.  "So there will be no
misunderstanding, what exactly will we find on this ship?"
     Cassiopeia smoothed her tunic and then sat on a stray metal drum.
"We have confirmed the life signs within the ship.  There are six
separate human entities, all alive."
     "Six humans," said Adama, "and all of them alive?"
     "Yes, exactly," said Salik.
     Adama faced Salik, flanked by Apollo and Starbuck.  "Has anyone
tried to tell those inside that we are here now?"
     "Yes," Wilker said.  "But there was no response."
     "I believe," Salik said, "that there is a simple explanation for
that, and my associates concur."
     "I don't," put in Doctor Wilker.
     "You think," Adama guessed, "that these people inside, whoever they
are, must be in some sort of suspended animation?"
     "Yes, we do."
     "That's not so much an explanation," added Doctor Wilker, "as it is
a theory."
     "We've established that none of the people inside are responding to
the present situation at all," said Cassiopeia.  "Their life signs are
all even and there have been no increases in heart rate or respiration to
indicate fright, anger, or even simple awareness that their flight has
been interrupted."
     "Has any attempt been made," asked Commander Adama, "to enter the
craft?"
     "I wanted your direct order first before attempting that," said
Doctor Salik.
     "Gentlemen, there is no need for further discussion," wailed Wilker. 
"Let's just go in and get it over with."
     "Doctor Wilker," Adama said thoughtfully, "one centon of your time
please." 
     He took the overly excited scientist aside and spoke to him
privately.
     "Could we be upsetting a critical balance by violating the seals and
entering the ship?"
     "Excuse, me gentlemen, sorry for eavesdropping, but I believe I can
answer that," Salik said.  "We penetrated the hull with a probe and we
took samplings of the gases in the atmosphere."
     "And?"
     "Almost zero atmosphere."
     "Zero?" Adama was aghast.
     "There were traces of oxygen and carbon dioxide, but nothing that
could sustain life as we know it."
     "Yet six life forms live on this ship," Cassiopeia said, "even if
barely."
     "What happens," Adama asked, "if we do what Wilker proposes and
enter the ship?  Wouldn't we be killing those inside if they're used
to... zero atmosphere?"
     "Commander," said Salik, "nothing short of a Cylon could survive in
that ship."
     "My thoughts exactly," said Wilker.  "Unless, of course, these six
passengers are being cared for in a separate and isolated life support
system within...which seems unlikely to me."
     "Well, then."  Adama locked his hands together, and bowed his head
in prayer to the Lords of Kobol for a few microns.  "This is the moment
we've all been waiting for.  After you, Doctor Salik."

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

Chapter Four: Into The Unknown

     Doctor Salik was the first one to ascend the gangway into the dimly
lit lower deck of the mystery ship.  "Sufficient air from the landing bay
has seeped in here," he announced.  "The rest of you can come on up."
     "I protest!" Wiker cried.  "We cannot allow anyone to interfere with
our study of this vessel, not even viper pilots!"
     "Listen, Doc," said Starbuck, putting his hand on the scientist's
arm, "this flying skillet is just as important to all of us as it is to
you!"
     "Doctor," said Commander Adama evenly, "these men are here at my
invitation.  If you have a problem with that, then I'm the one you should
be speaking to."
     "Very well." After making a mock bow, Wilker ascended the gangway
into the ship.
     "Ladies first," Starbuck said to Cassiopeia.  
     As soon as she entered, he followed.
     They entered what seemed to be more like a living room than a
control room.  The galley was across from them and next to that there was
a laboratory, equipped with burners, test tubes and the like. 
Acceleration couches were situated clockwise around the lower level. 
Wilker and Salik busied themselves looking over the ship's spectacular
but functional staterooms, obviously designed and built for the benefit
of whoever the pilots were.
     In the front of the lower deck, Starbuck was looking over what he
recognized as some kind of communications console, an apparatus rich with
flashing lights, switches, and buttons.  "Nice layout," he said.  "Wonder
who could be out here for anyone to talk to."
     Apollo started for the metal door that was located in the far corner
of the room curious to see where it led.  He'd started to look for a way
to open it when suddenly he noticed the words DANGER: RADIOACTIVE
inscribed on it.  Apparently, this was the housing for the ship's atomic
motors.  "May-be next time," he muttered.
     Adama suddenly became concerned at the apparent lack of habitation. 
"Apollo, when we're through here, I'm going to order our scanning
equipment checked for possible malfunctions.  It doesn't look to me as if
anyone's used this craft for so much as even a test flight."
     "There are people here, father," Apollo pleaded. "We couldn't
have---"
     "Say!" Starbuck interrupted suddenly.  "Has anyone seen Cassiopeia? 
She was here a micron ago, but I don't see her anywhere now."
     "I'm right here, Starbuck."
     He heard a soft hum behind him and looked over his shoulder.  The
circular bars of what he'd thought, at first glance, to be an animal
cage, opened and Cassiopeia stepped out.  Wilker and the other men soon
realized this was the ship's elevator platform, connecting the two levels
of the ship like a dumbwaiter.
     "You went off by yourself on a strange ship without checking with me
first, Cassiopeia," Salik said angrily. "I have relieved nurses from duty
for even less."
     "It's just as well I did wander off, Doctor."  She looked at Adama. 
"We were right, commander, there are humans aboard, a family of six. I've
just found them."
     Adama felt a wave of excitement overcome him.  "Where are they?"
     "This elevator disk will take us to the top deck, commander.  That's
why we didn't see them, at first," Cassiopeia explained.  "We've only
entered the living quarters."
     Apollo spied a series of metal rectangles affixed to the wall next
to the elevator cage.  It was a ladder.
     "Apparently, this ladder provides access to the top deck as well,"
Apollo said.  "Starbuck, you climb up this thing with me."
     Adama, Wilker, Salik and Cassiopeia stepped onto the elevator disk
and went up, while Starbuck and Apollo climbed the ladder.
     The lights were even dimmer on the top deck level than they were on
the lower level.  The first thing the group saw through the gloom was the
air lock, located on the room's left side.  Unfortunately, they almost
found themselves covering their ears against the whines, pops, beeps, and
whistles that signified the functioning of the computers and flashing
equipment lining the upper deck of the saucer.
     Starbuck crossed over to where the circumference of the ship merged
into its bow, where the pilot and co-pilot sat facing the flight control
consoles, which came complete with working radar and whatever passed for
deep-scan on this ship and a trio of huge four-foot high portholes that
afforded him a view of the surrounding launch bay.  He guessed those
portholes were made from transparent aluminum, just like a Viper's
canopy, because such a huge area was an easy target for stray meteorites,
which would blow out even the strongest of glass windows, and therefore
dooming the ship.  "Never seen anything like this before," he remarked,
as he looked out the huge slanted portholes.
     Dr. Wilker noted a circular console in the center of the ship, with
a small saucer model propped up on a stand encased within with a huge
transparent bubble. He guessed that it was a navigation system, which
would tell the crew if the ship was tilting or diving or whatever.  To
the rear were the cabin pressure controls.
     "Everything seems to be functioning," Cassiopeia observed.
     "Doc," said Starbuck to Wilker, as he stepped away from the
astrogator, "your boys ought to be able to figure all these gadgets out."
     "Yes, in time I'm sure we will."  Hands behind his back, he was
scanning the wall with the operating systems.
     The commander, as he looked around, noted the storage bay in the
rear, wondering at first what was stored there, but then dismissing it as
irrelevant.  There, on the left side of the chamber, the objects of the
group's main interest came into view.
     "It's incredible!" Adama cried breathlessly.
     "By the grace of God!  Salik said, fighting back tears for the
sleeping travelers.
     "Oh my Lord!" said Starbuck.
     "Bless their hearts... Look at them!" Salik said with breathless
wonder.
     Built into the floor of the spacecraft were six suspended animation
chambers and rows of highly technical cryogenic equipment.  The chambers
were fogged up, probably due to condensation from the intense cold
within, but each held the unmistakable outlines of human beings, all
sleeping on their feet, like a horse would.
     Salik stepped up to the first of the tubes, wiped away the
condensation and frost particles from the front and looked inside.  The
face of a young man, with thick black hair, a high forehead, and closed
sunken eyes, looked back at him.  "Doctor, are they alive?" the commander
asked as he stepped up beside the doctor.
     "This chap certainly is," Salik answered, easing a pencil-sized
instrument out of his pocket and touching it, gently, to the tube.  "Yes,
all his vital signs register.  But he's functioning at a very low level,
in sort of trance state."  "Making this a good way to conserve fuel, if
they need to," said Apollo.
     "He looks to be a young man, I would say twenty-seven, maybe
twenty-eight yahrens," said Adama, studying the sleeping face on the
other side of the plastic wall of the freezing tube.
     "About that, yes."
     Cassiopeia walked over to the fifth freezing tube, toward the rear
of the chamber, and wiped away the condensation from that one.  Curious,
she looked in at the sleeping figure inside.  It was a young girl; her
mouth almost seemed to be curled into a little smile.  Like the figure in
the first free-zing tube her eyes were closed.  Cassiopeia couldn't help
but admire the girl's long dark brown hair, how it rested on her brow. 
It was tied into a ponytail at the back of her head, leaving the sides
practically bare, revealing her delicate ear lobes.
     "Omigod!" Cassiopeia cried out when the realization of who she was
looking at hit her.  "I think---No, I'm sure!  She's the one I saw in
that strange video Apollo picked up that time we were in the celestial
chamber!"
     Apollo walked over to where Cassiopeia stood, and peered through the
hole she'd made in the condensation.
     "I don't believe it!" Apollo said, unable to contain his
astonishment.  "She can't be more than twelve yahrens old."
     Wilker had wiped away the condensation of the final freezing tube
with a stout cloth.  The young silver-clad boy sleeping in-side of this
one seemed like the epitome of the boy next door, possessing the
red-headed, freckled-faced appearance of a typical Colonial boy.
     "This lad is even younger, almost Boxey's age," he said.
     Unfortunately, the wonder of the moment was wasted on Starbuck.  The
minute he'd wiped away the condensation on the fourth freezing tube, he
felt like he'd just fallen in love with the woman sleeping with-in.  She
was an attractive young willowy blonde, slim and shapely, her hair
covering her brow like a second forehead.  "Hello, Gorgeous," he said. 
"When you wake up, you'll have to fight off all the men on this ship with
a stick," he said.
     Starbuck managed to take his attention off the blonde, and toward
the second and third freezing tubes.  A black-haired man, middle aged,
occupied freezing tube number two, and a woman, middle-aged as well, with
auburn-hair, occupied freezing tube number three.  Doctor Salik was still
scanning the figure in the first freezing tube.  "They look like husband
and wife," said Star-buck.  "Not a very romantic trip for 'em, though. 
Propped up in these plastic prisons.  They should've asked their
travelator for first-class accommodations instead of this---deep freeze."
     "Hush up, good buddy," advised Apollo.
     "Yes, please do," seconded Wilker, who was studying a series of
circular wall fixtures, like camera lenses, lining the wall behind the
freezing tubes, strategically placed behind the backs of each of the
sleeping travelers.  There were a few flexible pipes snaking out of the
metal wall, yet the setup seemed devoid of the usual pipes and wires that
one would expect to be attached to a cryogenic sleeping chamber.  In
fact, the freezing tubes didn't seem to be attached to anything except
the ceiling.
     "Obviously, their metabolism has been lowered to its minimum for
sustaining life.  This support system is set to maintain that life for as
long as need be."
     Folding his arms, Apollo relaxed against the astrogator.  "How long
have they been like this?"
     Salik answered him.  "Your guess is as good as mine, Captain."
     Still surveying the sleeping blonde woman, Starbuck said, "We have
to talk with them, communicate somehow.  How do we wake 'em up?"
     "Very carefully," answered Salik.  "That's the trouble with cryonic
suspension: if you don't handle the subject's awakening just right he'll
die.  And we don't have the slightest idea how this equipment functions."
     "You let me worry about that," advised Wilker. 
     "We've found humans," said Star-buck.  "Quite probably from Earth. 
How soon before we can revive them and have them talk to us?"
     "You can be sure our curiosity is as great, if not greater, than
yours, Lieutenant," said Doctor Salik.  "The revival of these half-dozen
wayfarers will be accomplished as quickly as it can be done without
endangering their lives."
     "I'd be inclined to select one of them and start making tests at
once," said Doctor Wilker.  "Since Cassiopeia seems to know the girl in
the fifth freezing tube, I think we should start with her."
     "You mean...use her as a human testing drone?" said Commander Adama
slowly and carefully.
     "And if you mistakenly short out her freezing tube and kill her?"
Apollo became angry.  "Too bad, huh? You'll just move on to the next
one...that little boy in the last tube, for instance, right?"
     "Don't worry, Apollo.  I won't tolerate anything like that," Adama
said  "Doctors, I hope you understand the significance of these people. 
Who they are, where they come from, and where they were going when we
intercepted them, may be crucial to our survival, so I want absolutely no
chances taken with their lives."
     "Commander, we will not be slipshod in our efforts," Wilker pleaded.
     "Just so we understand one another."  Adama turned to Salik. 
"Before any attempt is made to open a single one of these tubes, you'll
run every test possible.  And then, Doctor, I want you to confer directly
with me before taking any further step."
     "Certainly, Commander.  I was intending to proceed in that manner
any-way."
     "Might I make a suggestion?" said Wilker.  "Now that the sightseeing
is over, I'd like you to leave us alone to our work."  He nodded in the
direction of Starbuck.
     Deciding not to thumb his nose, Starbuck said,  "They're all yours,
Doc.  For now."
     But Wilker still had his unspoken doubts.  They might already have
killed them---simply by bringing them aboard the Galactica!

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

Chapter Five: School Days

     Excitement had spread to every part of the Galactica, even to the
school bay of the huge battlestar, where a slightly distracted young
woman was trying to conduct a class in Applied Science.  She stood, not
quite patiently, at the head of the domed room and watched the two-dozen
children in her charge.  They were whispering and chattering among
themselves.
     "Kids," said Athena, clapping her hands, "let's settle down again
and see if we can't get some work done before instructional period ends. 
Okay?"
     A silence, momentary at best, settled over the children and they all
gazed up at the shapely, chestnut-haired young woman.
     "By now, I'm sure that most of you are aware that something special
has happened."
     "People from Earth!" spoke out a brown-haired boy at a desk near the
front of the room.  "Starbuck and my dad found people from Earth."
     "Boxey, when desiring to address the class, use your question
indicator.  Please?"
     "I'm sorry Athena," said the child.  "But that's what they found,
sure enough."
     "You're excused," she said.  "That seems the likely conclusion,
although Doctor Salik and his staff aren't absolutely certain yet.  Now,
I'm sure that all of you realize that what happens throughout this day is
liable to affect each of us for the rest of our lives.  We're all a
trifle nervous."
     Boxey flipped the toggle on his desktop, causing a red blip of light
to flicker.  
     "Yes," Athena said.  "Boxey?"
     "If there are people inside, why don't they come out and say hello
to us?" the child asked.
     "We can't allow it right now," Athena answered, "because their craft
has to be decontaminated.  Now, who knows what that means?"
     Boxey's light went on again.  "It means we have to kill any bugs
that might be on their ship."
     "Very good," Athena praised.  "Now we are talking about those that
are too small for us to see, aren't we?  You all remember when we found
ourselves thrown together on this fleet for the first time?  Well, some
of us had troubles, didn't we?"
     Another little light flashed, this time, at the desk of a small
blonde girl.
     "Yes, Beroca?"
     "My parents got sick from eating the food."
     "Yes," Athena said, faintly disgusted at the casual way the child
was talking about her parent's illness; she might as well have been
talking about eating a mushie.  "Now, we aren't saying that there was
anything wrong with these liquids, but that they contained bacterial
strains, which some of our people from the outer colonies had to get used
to. Their bodies had to do what?  Class?"
     "Adjust," they all answered as one.
     "Very good," Athena said.  "I'm glad you all remembered. Now, if
you'll all look at your monitors, you can read today's key phrase for
today's lesson."
     Every child in the classroom directed his or her attention to the
computer monitor situated on the right side of each desk.  As Athena
promised, the cursor danced across the screen, printing out the vital
phrase.  They all read it aloud.
     " 'The Human life form can adapt to any varied environment and
improve.'"
     "The key thing in remembering adapting is... time," she explained. 
"It takes time for our bodies to adjust."
     The light on the desk of the little girl called Beroca went on
again.  "My mommy says there are kids inside the ship that Lieutenant
Starbuck brought back."
     "Well, yes there are---" 
     "Beroca, it was my dad, Apollo, who found the ship and brought it
here," put in Boxey.  "I mean, Starbuck brought it along, but it was---"
     "Boxey, your light.  Remember?"
     "But she hadn't ought to say that it was Starbuck that found them,"
in a vain attempt to justify his rudeness.
     "Yes, we understand.  It was Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck,
while on a scouting patrol, who found this mysterious ship and brought it
back to us," said Athena.  "Now, did you have another question, Taelon?"
     The little girl made a face at the nearby Boxey.  "Every time I try
to ask something he yells at me."
     "Boxey didn't mean to interrupt you, Beroca.  And he's sorry."
     "Yeah, sure," said Boxey.  "I'm sorry, but my dad did find it
first."
     "That will do, Boxey."
     "Excuse me," the boy said.
     "Beroca?"
     "I wanted to know if there are really kids in that ship?"
     "There are children inside the ship.  Three children, in fact."
     Another light flashed.
     "Yes, Jondalu?"
     "What do they look like?"
     The teacher smiled.  "They're kids, just like you, only from another
world.  And you'll be able to see and talk to them, once we're able to
bring them out of suspended animation.  Do you know what that means? 
Boxey?"
     His light had been flashing, in forced observance of classroom
protocol.  "It means they're sort of taking a long nap.  Only in deep
freeze."
     Jondalu's light blinked.  "Why are they asleep?  Wouldn't you want
to stay awake on a trip, so you could see everything?"
     Athena said, "Try to understand, Jondalu.  Not everyone is as
advanced as we are in space travel.  When your spaceship can't travel
immense distances at the speed of light, you have to be put to sleep.  In
fact, you have to be put in a state where your body is slowed down, so
you don't age much."
     "Otherwise," said Boxey, "Everybody'd get to their destination and
be old.  A bunch of old people wouldn't do much good on a rough trip."
     "Boxey, there are many benefits that come with age.  One of which is
patience and tolerance."
     "I flashed my light that time," he told her.
     Jondalu asked, "Where are they going to?"
     "We don't know that yet."
     Beroca said, "Maybe they'll never get there now.  On account of we
stopped them.  Was that right to do?"
     Athena rubbed her palm with the fingers of her other hand.  "We
think it was, since these people may be able to tell us things that are
important to us."
     "They're gonna feel funny," said the little girl.  "Waking up and
they aren't where they thought they were."
     "Maybe they won't wake up," said Boxey.
     Athena gave him a frowning look.  "What do you mean by that, Boxey?"
     "Well, Doctor Wilker may make a mistake and they'll all die before
he can get them out of their freezing tubes."
     "Freezing tubes?" asked a lanky boy near the rear of the room.
     "Boxey said they have to freeze ya if your ship's too slow," Beroca
said.
     "Actually, that was a figure of speech," said the young woman.  "As
I understand it, the function of the vertically situated plastic tubes
each member of the family is sleeping in is, partially, to lower the body
temperature and metabolism of each occupant to slow the aging process
down."  She could tell by the blank looks on the faces of the kids that
she wasn't quite getting through to them.
     "Let me put this another way," Athena continued.  "Suspension is the
technique of slowing life functions down to a minimum through exposure to
intense cold.  In our world, it's been a common medical technique ever
since the Great Scientific Renaissance on Caprica centuries ago.  In the
early days of sub-light space travel it was used to keep a ship's
passengers alive on their yahren long voyages with minimal consumption of
food and oxygen.  Today, it's used mostly in cases where the necessary
antidote is temporarily unavailable or where elaborate diagnostic tests
must be completed before the commencement of treatment."
     "When are they gonna wake up?" another child wanted to know.
     "As soon as it can be safely done," answered Athena.
     "Sooner if Doc Wilker screws up the works," said Boxey.
     "Young man, it really isn't polite to be so critical of the doctor."
     "He's an arrogant nitwit," said Boxey.  "I know, because I heard my
father say so.  And Lieutenant Starbuck agreed.  He said Wilker was a
cold fish, too, Starbuck did.  I'm not exactly sure what that means."
     "In the future, young man, I suggest you pay no attention to most of
what Lieutenant Starbuck says," the teacher admonished.
     Beroca's light flashed again.  "What do you think the Earth people
will have to tell us?"
     Athena answered.  "I really am not sure."

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

     She found him in a long blank-walled corridor.  "Apollo," called
Athena.
     The captain had been strolling purposefully along a few yards ahead
of her.  He halted, turned around and smiled.  "Ah, my favorite
schoolmarm and sister."
     But she returned a frown instead of a smile.  "We have to talk,
brother."
     "Is it about Boxey?" He rested one palm flat against the metal wall. 
"Last report I had from him, he was doing okay in everything except
Stellar Geography.
     "Yes, it's about Boxey---and you!"
     "I really didn't help him with that last math paper, no matter what
he says."
     "It's about the Earth people."
     "Possible Earth people," he corrected.
     "The children are quite excited about what's happening," she went
on, "and naturally we've been discussing the whole thing in class."
     "Why pick on Boxey and me?  Every-body aboard the Galactica is
excited.  This is a big event."
     Athena said.  "That's why I don't want your negative attitude
upsetting the kids."
     "Negative?  Starbuck and I are the ones who spotted the ship and
brought it home.  Maybe I don't jump up and down and wave a cigar like
Starbuck does, but I assure you, Athena, I'm just as upbeat as he is."
     "I can understand your talking freely in front of Boxey, although I
might not raise a child of mine that way," she said.  "You've got to
remember, though, he's not old enough or sophisticated enough to know
when you two are joking.  And sometimes you voice opinions in front of
him that should be kept to yourselves."
     "You sound like you're accusing me of telling him dirty stories."
     "He was repeating in class some nasty remarks you and Starbuck made
about Doctor Wilker.  About the man who built Muffit for him, for Sagan's
sake."
     Apollo gave a short laugh.  "Come on, Athena," he said.  "I'm not
going to pretend that I think Wilker isn't a cold-blooded officious son
of a daggit."
     "And you're entitled your opinion, Apollo.  But those opinions have
to stay out of my classroom," she said.  "The morale of those kids can be
undermined if they start thinking the people, the adults, are fools and
incompetents."
     "Starbuck and I were criticizing one man," he told her.  "I'm sorry
if Boxey heard us.  But Athena, you're not doing any of the children any
good if you try to give them the idea that adults are all perfect and
it's only kids who screw up."
     "What they learn will be decided be me, not you."
     "Hold it right there, sis," said Apollo, putting his hand on her
slim shoulder.  "Everybody is running at a high pitch, today.  So let's
call a truce, Athena.  Okay?"
     She turned away from him for a few seconds, studying the rivets in
the wall.  "Okay, but...well, don't make Boxey cynical before his time."
     "I'll try not to," said Apollo.
     Athena faced him, taking a deep breath.  'What do you really
think'll happen?" she asked.  "Will that family be able to tell us
something?"
     "I sure hope so," Apollo answered.

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

Chapter Six: Controversy

     Doctor Salik was studying what he perceived to be one of the
strangest looking instruments he'd ever seen.  It rested in a small
alcove on the right side of the ship's main flight deck, a hodgepodge of
exposed gears supporting an orange sphere studded with flashing lights. 
The entire apparatus rested on a circular pedestal at the alcove's
bottom.  The poor doctor couldn't even begin to guess what this clumsy
looking device did.  "It's hopeless," he wailed.  "Nothing on the
Galactica seems to correlate with their symbols or systems."
     Wilker stood to Salik's right, studying another device set into the
vehicle's walls; a computer, but one that utilized the old reel-to-reel
tape method of data storage.  "Why do you say that?  They're human,"
Wilker said.  "Their ship flies, draws energy."
     Salik looked at his colleague.  "Humans, yes, but humans who speak a
different language from ours.  How can we really fathom the meaning of
any words or numbers we see on these instrument panels?" He paused,
looking up at a series of knobs, lights and dials set into a slanted
juncture of the wall.  There was the image of a bird of prey engraved
just above two buttons. "Take that symbol, for instance," Salik
continued, "what do you suppose it is?"
     Wilker looked at it.  "One of their gods, no doubt." He sighed, a
twinge of the same frustration Salik was feeling washing over him. "I
hate to say it, but we're not going to figure all this out without taking
some chances."

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

     Lieutenant Boomer was slouched slightly in his chair; chin resting
on his fist, and staring out of one of the lounge's view windows.  He
turned away from contemplating the vastness of space when Apollo joined
him at his table.  "Hail the conquering hero," he quipped.
     "Save that for someone who really feels like a conquering hero,
which I don't," said Apollo.
     Sheba, who was sitting next to Boomer, frowned.  "You look like you
just lost your first love."
     Apollo shook his head.  "I've just overheard some of the technicians
talking.  They're not making any progress in there."
     "Give them some time," Athena urged.
     Apollo became apprehensive.  "They may not have any time, Athena. 
And that's causing me to have second thoughts about what we did out
there."
     "You sound like you think there's some sort of...choice to be made
here," Boomer said.
     "Now that you mention it, Boomer, there is," said Apollo.
     "What are you talking about?" Sheba was astonished.  "You found a
ship drifting in space, with living beings inside.  Now Apollo, you know
we're doing everything we can for them.  We're not Cylons here, you
know."
     "If we fool with their life support systems, then, as far as I'm
concerned, we're just as bad as the Cylons," Apollo said.  "Maybe we just
ought to leave them alone.  Three of them are just children, you know,
and the idea of tinkering with kids makes me sick to my stomach."
     Boomer said.  "Leave them alone?  Is that what we're supposed to do
to the first humans we've encountered who are clearly from another
civilization?"
     "Have you forgotten about Crodan, Sectar, Equellus, Antilla, and the
Proteus Prison Asteroid?" Athena said. "Those planets had human
populations too."
     "I can tell you right now this family didn't come from any of those
places, Athena," said Boomer, leaning toward his friend.  "Everybody
we've encountered up to now, every colony or outpost, have been  drifters
or pioneers from one of our own planets.  Terms, dress, technology, all
familiar to us."
     "True," Athena admitted.
     "So what are you saying, Boomer?" Sheba said.
     "That even if a few of the humans we've run across, say, like in
that hick town back on Sectar, Serinity, were descendants of the lost
thirteenth tribe, they were probably just stragglers left behind,"
continued Boomer, his voice intense.  "Now, right here on this ship of
ours, for the first time, we've actually found human life forms that are
from a technologically advanced civilization.  That's what the whole
point of the voyage has been."
     "He's right, you know," said Star-buck, strolling up and taking the
third chair at the table.  "That's why we've risked our lives staying on
this tin can rather than stopping at one of the planets we've passed that
could've supported life."
     Apollo made his right hand into a fist and rested it on a tabletop. 
"It is not the reason why we've never stopped; we've never stopped
because never been strong enough to stop anyplace else.  We've been a
fugitive people, on the run from a murderous alien empire for the crime
of simply being human."
     "Er, uh, not for some time," Starbuck pointed out.  "Can you
remember the last time we saw a Cylon?  It's been sectons, right?"
     "Your point?"
     "I say we've just been dealt a terrific hand and we have to play it
out.  We're going to win, too.  So...why don't we just lighten it up a
little bit?"
     "Starbuck, you're a nifty viper pilot and the best fighting man in
the fleet," said Apollo, "but you see everything in absolutes: We win or
we lose; we find Earth or we don't; a girl says yes or she says no.  Good
buddy, the quality of civilization is determined by the values placed
between these extremes."
     Starbuck took a slow sip of his drink.  "Would you mind repeating
that last part for me?  It sounds profound enough for me to copy it down
and have it embroidered on a pillow or something.  'The quality of...'
How'd the rest go?"
     Sheba said, "Apollo, maybe you're being a little too hard on
Starbuck.
     Shaking his head, Apollo said, "Now I know how you feel, Athena;
trying to drum some knowledge into a bunch of restless kids."
     "Wait now," said Starbuck, grinning, looking over at Apollo's
beautiful sister.  "Athena, you know I'd listen to you.  In fact, just
about any pretty lady has a heck of a good chance of reaching me with her
message."
     After a few seconds, Boomer said, "You were about to make some other
point, Apollo.  Before the hotshot here came traipsing in."
     "Traipsing?  I resent that, Boomer."
     "I've just been thinking about those six wayfarers," said Apollo. 
"Especially the three children, but all of them really.  I don't know,
when we were out there and we saw that ship of theirs I was elated.  Here
it was, a chance to get more input about Earth.  So we brought them
here."
     "Which," said Starbuck, "was absolutely the smart thing to do, old
chum."
     "Maybe."
     "Maybe?"
     "It's been occurring to me, especially when I see Salik and Wiker
and a whole army of doctors and technicians swarming all over the craft
like maggazons on a side of rotten beef, that the best thing to do would
be to let them go on their way unmolested."
     "You mean like taking out the hook and tossing the fish back into
the stream after landing it?" asked Boomer.
     "These six aren't war booty," said Apollo.  "They're people and
we've interfered with them.  We may very well keep them from ever
fulfilling their mission."
     Starbuck made an exasperated noise and popped a fresh cigar between
his teeth.  "Now, Boomer, you see what it's like working with this guy,"
he said.  "He never turns that brain of his off, it's working round the
clock.  Going back over what we've done, trying to find a way to worry
about some dinky trivial thing."
     "I still say you guys did the right thing," said Boomer.  "I'd have
done exactly the same thing if I'd spotted that ship while on scout
patrol."
     "Bojay and I would've hauled it in, too," Sheba pointed out.
     "Just because someone else would've done the same thing does not
make it right," said Apollo.
     "You really want to let these people go, old chum?" Starbuck studied
his friend's face.  "Push 'em out of the docking bay and let 'em get on
with their trip?"
     "For their sake, yes."
     "But we still don't know what that vessel does or where it's taking
them," said Starbuck, lighting his cigar with an angry flick of his
igniter.  "If we toss them out into space that crate may just turn into a
derelict.  I mean it could be it long ago forgot where they were supposed
to be going.  Maybe somewhere along the line the line the memory banks
got erased or something."
     "From everything I've just seen of it," Apollo began, "our visitor
in that launch bay isn't so much a ship as it is a big spacegoing
computer, with the pilot, helm and main astrogation console seeming to be
after-thoughts.  Now, if we don't tamper too much with the operating
systems, it's more than capable of delivering its passengers to the right
destination."
     "You're daft," said Starbuck.  "You see a red-headed, freckled-faced
little boy in silver jammies sleeping on his feet in a big plastic tube
and you get mushy.  These six people are important to us.  We have to
find out what it is they know."
     "But knowledge demands a price," said Apollo.  "Should those people
be the ones to pay it?"
     At the next table a chubby young man in the uniform of a security
guard leaned back and turned toward them.  "If anyone's interested in my
vote," he said in his nasal voice, "I'm with Starbuck.  I say let's go in
there and open those damn tubes quick.  We have to start interrogating
those people, because the lives of every damn one of us depend on what
they know."
     Starbuck scanned the plump youth.  "Reese, get out of our
conversation before I ram this mug down your throat!"
     "Listen, Starbuck, I wasn't suggesting that we do anything that
would hurt those kids."
     "That's as far as you can go," warned Starbuck, pushing back his
hair and raising a cautionary hand.
     "Geeze, whose side are you on?"
     "I'm on my own side, buster.  And I don't need some nitwit security
officer to fight my philosophical battles."
     "All right," said Reese.  "Suit your-self.  But I'm not the only one
who feels like this.  Now sooner or later the fleet's gonna stop letting
those old boys tinker around in there and demand that we open those
freezing tubes.  And if they're human, they breathe air, just like you
and I do...fresh air."  The roughhewn security officer stood up from his
barstool.  "And speaking of fresh air, I think I'm gonna go get me some." 
He looked at Apollo and Starbuck, the contempt written lucidly all over
his face, and remarked, "It's always a little stuffy around you two." 
Then he went stomping off.
     Apollo jumped up, ready to come at the security man with murder in
his eyes.  "Now wait a damn minute, officer---"
     "Apollo," said Starbuck, putting a restraining hand on the captain's
arm and keeping him storming away from their table, "save your violence
for the triad courts, okay?"
     Boomer watched the security man's departure.  "The point of the
lounge is to let off a little tension, not to fight.  That's what we're
here for."
     Starbuck added, "Besides, aren't you getting a little confused?  I'm
supposed to be the hotheaded impulsive one."
     "What happened to that winning personality I've been hearing about
so much, Apollo?"  Sheba asked.  "Did you leave it in your viper?"
     "I should've punched all his gallmonging teeth out!  And Starbuck,
yes, I'm confused, but I still find it hard to offer even one life in
sacrifice...not even to save thousands."  Apollo rose up.  "I'm going to
see how the doctors are coming."
     "Think I'll tag along," offered Starbuck.
     "They don't need a crowd down there," said Apollo.  "I'll fill you
in as soon as I know anything new."
     Nodding, Starbuck picked up his tankard.  "I'm not willing to risk
those kids' lives either, especially that young blonde that seems to be
the oldest among those three kids.  I kinda like her."
     "I noticed."  Apollo left the table.

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

Chapter Seven: Anything That Can Go Wrong Will

     An unexpected sizzle of yellowish sparks came sputtering out of the
wall and showered down on the floor behind the plastic freezing tube that
held the sleeping red-headed boy.  A constant staccato beeping, as of an
alarm, followed the misadventure.
     "Frak!" exclaimed Doctor Wilker.
     "I thought I'd told you to be careful!" admonished Doctor Salik
bitterly.  He was over at the right side of the circular chamber, poring
over the dials and gauges set into the wall near the air lock.
     Wilker withdrew the hand-held probing tool he'd been using to test
the panels of flashing lights and wiring array in the life support area. 
"I seem to have blown out a fuse," he said puzzled.  "Which is odd, since
this whole setup looks simple and easy to understand.  What are the
instruments doing?"
     "There was a temporary drop on every indicator here; power, gases
and everything.  I'd say you struck the central nerve of the whole life
support system," Salik said to his colleague.
     "Well, at least we're getting closer."
     "Closer?  You might have shorted out their whole ship," said Salik
angrily.  "You're as good as murdering that whole family if you keep
going on like this.  You refuse to admit the obvious: We don't know what
we're doing!"
     "I'm being as careful and thorough as I can under the
circumstances," said Wilker.  "I really do believe, doctor, that we don't
have time to move at the tiptoe pace you'd like me to."
     "We have all the time we need."
     "Do we?  Already, Sire Geller has been trying to get in here to talk
to these people," said Wilker.  "I am not about to cross the Council of
Twelve or jeopardize my career."
     "It's these people's lives you ought to be worrying about," said
Apollo as he stepped out of the elevator cage and crossed over to the
freezing tubes. "What happened?"
     "We don't need your interference just now, Captain," said Wilker.
     "It look's to me like you do.  What's going on here?"
     "We've found that the gas being used in the system is stored in a
liquid form and is regenerated and recycled in some way that has to do
with these circuits," said Wilker impatiently.  "Now, if you'll just
toddle off, maybe we can learn even more."
     "Dr. Salik, you don't look quite so optimistic," Apollo said to
Wilker's associate.
     "I would prefer to work at a much slower rate, to make more tests."
     "Didn't I just get through saying that we simply don't have the
time, Salik?" Wilker said.
     "I heard you mentioning Geller," said Apollo.  "But he has no
authority over this operation."
     "He thinks he does.  It isn't wise to cross the Council, Captain."
     Turning his back on the scientist, Apollo addressed Salik.  "Are
things going wrong?"
     "Yes, there are problems, but they're nothing we can't handle,"
insisted Wilker.
     Salik shook his head.  "Don't lie to him, Wilker.  Apollo, the truth
is...the system's slowly losing power."
     "I demand an explanation at once!" roared Apollo.
     "Well, for one thing, as we probe the circuits in here, we
occasionally short out lines, thereby draining off energy."
     "I'll have your hide for that, Doctor Wilker!" Apollo said.
     "Nothing critical, Captain," said Wilker.  "We can solve the
technology of this system in time."
     "And exactly how much time do we have, Doctor?" Apollo asked.
     "How far is it to Earth?" Salik said with intense alarm.  "Or how
far have they come? Or how much farther was this system intended to
support their frail lives?"
     "I want you to discontinue your work at once," said Apollo
decisively.
     Wilker blinked.  "Captain, I'm afraid you don't have the authority
to---"
     "I'm not asking you---I'm ordering you out of this ship."  He caught
hold of the scientist's arm.  "Doctor Salik, I'll permit you to stay here
and monitor the situation on the condition that you will apprise me of
any change."
     "Very well," said Salik, rubbing his hand along his side
thoughtfully.
     "You and I, Wilker, will go talk to my father," said Apollo.
     "Oh, don't you worry," said Wilker with a frosty smile.  "I wouldn't
miss a chance to talk to the Commander for any-thing.  You are in a lot
of trouble, son."

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

     Commander Adama was frowning at the image on the communication
screen.  "I think I've already made myself perfectly clear," he said
evenly.  "You can tell the Council, Sire Geller, that until I am
absolutely persuaded that---"
     "Then you're refusing me entry to this captured ship?"
     "The vehicle was not captured.  Merely brought into the docking back
for study."
     "Whatever you want to call the blasted thing," said the impatient
buritician, "we of the Council reserve the right to make an inspection."
     "I can't allow that.  Not at this time."
     "If not now, then when?"
     "You'll be informed, Geller," said Adama.  He flicked off the
screen.
     Leaving his chair, the commander made a slow circuit of his
quarters.
     A speaker just over the doorway cut intruded on his thoughts by
announcing: "Captain Apollo and Doctor Wilker to see you, sir."
     "Send them in."
     The door hissed open and his son came striding in, followed by the
sardonically smiling scientist.
     "Apollo!" Adama's back stiffened upon first sight of Doctor Wilker. 
"What do you think you're doing?"
     "Good question.  Who better to answer it than this hotheaded
offspring of yours?" Wilker said.
     "Sit down," Adama invited, settling into a chair.  "I sincerely hope
you have a good explanation for this, Apollo."
     "I ordered the scientific team to quit working on the ship," his son
explained, ignoring the chair he'd nodded at.
     "How do you justify that?"
     "They're running a risk of shutting off the whole cryogenic sleep
system," explained Apollo, pacing.  "Doctor Salik apparently has the
patience to do the job right, but Doctor Wilker is rushing things."
     "I only rush things when I'm forced to."
     "He's caused some damage already," accused Apollo, pointing at the
scientist.  "There's a possibility that, if he's allowed to keep
tinkering, he'll abort the whole business and kill every damned one of
those people."
     "I don't appreciate you calling my work, 'tinkering,' Captain." 
Carefully, Wilker lowered himself to a stuffed chair.
     Adama glanced at him.  "Was there some danger?"
     "Oh, not at all, not at all."
     "But, you have had some sort of accident?"
     "I admit to accidentally blowing a fuse," said Wilker.  "And, yes,
it did cause the power to diminish.  Nothing serious, as far as I know."
     "If that cryogenic sleep system fails, they die," said Apollo. 
"That's sure as hell-fire serious."
     Adama stroked his chin.  "You took a good deal upon yourself,
Apollo.  That took a certain amount of courage to do what you did," he
said, with a trace of approval in his voice.
     "I didn't think there was time for a vote."
     "All I needed was a little more time!" Wilker protested. 
"Unfortunately, I didn't get around to mentioning this to your impetuous
cub here, but we found an operations manual in that craft."
     "I'd like to see that manual as soon as possible," said Adama."
     "I can't do that.  It's built into the instrumentation of the ship's
upper level and functions as an integral part of it.  So far, I've
determined that the atmosphere of the planet these people came from is
approximately one-fifth the atmosphere of, say, Caprica.  What's more,
I've learned that this ship is called the Jupiter 2, five of those
people, with the exception of whoever he is in the first freezing tube
are called Robinsons, their flight was, and probably still is, being
controlled from someplace called Alpha Control, which is located on their
home planet, Terra."
     "Wait a centon," said Adama.  "Did you say Terra?"
     "Yes sir," replied Wilker.
     "Terra," Adama repeated.  "Terra in Gemonese means 'Earth.'"
     "That doesn't mean that the 'Terra' that these Robinsons came from
is the Earth we're looking for," Apollo pointed out.  "And it hardly
makes any difference to me.  What you both seem to be avoiding is the
fact that we've illegally seized a foreign craft and interrupted its
perfectly legitimate course between two unknown points!"
     "Illegally seized?" Adama asked.
     "What else do you call it when you take a ship out of flight and
then tamper with its functions until its resources begin to dwindle?"
     "Forgive me son, I had no idea."  Adama turned to Wilker.  "Are they
dwindling?" 
     "Well, there has been a slight power loss, but that's to be
expected," said Wilker.
     "We don't know what we're doing!" Apollo cried.
     "Apollo, mind your manners," Adama admonished.  "Doctor Wilker isn't
the villain here.  He's trying to help."
     "Look, I know that," Apollo said.  "But we still can't put the lives
of those six people in his hands or anybody else's in this fleet!"
     The commander studied his son for a few silent microns.  "I'm not
sure what your point is, Apollo," he said finally.
     "My point is, we made a terrible mistake," he said.  "Starbuck and
me, you and those science boys and the Council of Twelve.  We're all
wrong!"
     "That's not what you were saying earlier."
     "That's because I was buoyed by the discovery," answered Apollo,
"acting like a kid at Yuletime.  Now, after thinking, after seeing those
people asleep and trusting in those plastic tubes...well, we're wrong. 
Doctor Wilker and Doctor Salik shouldn't be allowed to go on."
     Steepling his fingers over his broad chest, Commander Adama asked,
"What do you suggest?"
     Apollo spread his hands wide.  "That we let them go."
     "Let them go?"
     "Yes, let them go.  As in---put the Jupiter 2 back on its original
course."
     The commander left his chair.  "In doing that, Apollo, we'd lose any
chance of communicating with the Robinsons."
     "Even if they stay here, there's a good chance they'll die before we
can talk to them, anyway," his son said.  "Three children, two men and a
woman."
     "You're allowing, if I may intrude in a family squabble," said
Doctor Wilker, "sentiment to outweigh logic.  Terra and Earth are one in
the same, right?  Then that makes what these six may have to impart to us
of considerable importance."
     "Felgercarb!   Now what, pray tell, could that ten-yahren-old boy
and his twelve-yahren old sister do or say that could save us all?" said
Apollo.
     "It wouldn't surprise me they turn out to be some kind of child
prodigies," said Wilker, dismissing Apollo's argument with an annoyed
wave of his hand.  "I think it's worth every risk we take."
     "Commander," said the speaker over the entrance, "Sire Geller from
the Council of Twelve insists on seeing you.  At once."
     Adama nodded at his son.  "Don't get into a fight with him," he
cautioned.  "Very well, let him in."
     The door whispered open and the councilman entered.  His chins were
fluttering and his Council robes flapped out behind him as he stomped in. 
"Adama!" he bellowed.
     "Calm yourself, sire," Adama urged.
     "According to Doctor Salik," Apollo said, ignoring Adama's earlier
warning, "those people, three adults and three children, may expire
before this time cycle is over."
     "Which is all the more reason to break the seals on those chambers
and try to revive them," Geller said to Apollo.  
     "Please, Geller," Adama soothed, "one more opinion is the last thing
we need at this time.  I, myself, had assumed our conversation was at an
end."
     "You assumed wrong, Commander.  As I recall, it was you who
disconnected our line, leaving me no choice but to come here in person."
     "Do others share your opinion, or do you stand alone Gellar?" said
Adama.
     "I most assuredly do not!" said Geller, every pound of him looking
unhappy.  "Representatives and dignitaries are coming aboard the
Galactica from every ship.  All of them, each and every one of them mind
you, interested in the same thing---the secrets to be wrested from the
voyagers who repose at this very minute in---in---.
     "The ship is called the Jupiter 2," Wilker supplied.
     "This sounds like a campaign speech," said Apollo under his breath.
     "... Therefore, Commander, I have been sent by the Council itself,
the awesome body which is responsible for the efficient running of the
vast---"
     "You have yet to tell me what the problem is," said Adama.
     "We're all furious with your inaction!" Geller said.
     "Furious?  At my inaction?" Adama's face turned white with rage.
     "While we're reluctant to take matters out of your competent hands,"
Gellar said, "we can't sit around idle while you do nothing.  I won't
even bother to protest the rude treatment I and several other very
important officials have suffered by not being allowed so much as even
one glimpse at the most significant find we've ever made."
     "And what right do I have to pass sentence on those three children?"
Adama said.
     "Quite right Adama," Geller said, using a different tone of voice
from when he'd first stormed into the commander's quarters.  "No, no, no. 
I agree.  Our people judge you far too harshly.  In fact, the Council
would like to take the burden of being solely responsible for this
situation off your capable shoulders.  Why don't we simply take a vote on
it?"
     "They haven't already decided?" said Adama.
     His brows furrowed, Adama turned to his son, "Apollo, you will be
responsible for the security of the Jupiter 2," he said.  "Very well,
Geller.  Why don't we call the Council into session at once?"
     "Whatever you wish, Adama," Geller said mockingly as he left the
commander's quarters.
     "'Whatever you wish, Adama,'" the commander repeated in a mocking
parody of the pompous buritician.

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

Chapter Eight: See The Robinson's!  Only 25 Cubits!

     Doctor Salik ducked his head slightly as he stepped out of the
Jupiter 2.  He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead.  "Going to
be some time, yet," he said.
     Starbuck had been crouching near the ship's third landing leg. 
Taking his cigar out of his mouth, he stood and said, "You may not have
as much time as you thought, Doc."
     Salik noticed the growing cluster of people on the other side of the
see-through restraining wall.  "I'd like it if all these gawkers were
herded elsewhere."
     "Some of them are Council members," said Apollo.  "And the security
force is afraid to prod them."
     "Anything new in there?" Starbuck asked the doctor.
     "Nothing encouraging," he said.  "I'm going up to talk to the
commander.  You'll see to it that no one gets inside."
     "You can count on us, Doc," promised Starbuck.
     "That 'no one' includes you fellows," Salik walked up to the doorway
in the wall and signaled to a security guard.
     A husky young man activated the door release and the door hissed
open.  "You don't have to worry about anyone getting in there, Doctor
Salik," he said.  "We'll contain the crowd until the orders arrive."
     "I wasn't informed about any orders."
     "The Council is voting right now to terminate their cryogenic sleep
systems and let those folks... Robinsons, aren't they...out of their
tubes."
     "You can't let them do that!" He shook his head angrily.  "Apollo,
Starbuck, see to it that that doesn't happen!"
     "Not to worry, Doc.  Nobody'll get by us," Starbuck assured him. 
"You go on up and tell the commander what's going on."
     Nodding absently, the doctor pushed his way through the growing
crowd in the corridor.
     Before the closing the door, the guard, Reese, said, "You always did
seem to have a goofy idea of how things work, Starbuck."
     Starbuck rubbed his right fist.  "I know how things work, Reese."
     "The point being, we're in charge here," Reese informed him.  "I'd
hate to have to tangle with you over---"
     "Wait a minute!  This is a military bay," said Apollo.  "You and
your men only have jurisdiction over civilians aboard the Galactica."
     Reese shrugged.  "We'll see."  He shut the door.
     "Halfwit!" commented Starbuck, rubbing at his fist again.  "Seems to
me the Council out to be voting on how to get smarter guys into security
ranks."
     "Save your anger," advised Apollo.  "We're probably going to have to
hold off more important gents than him.

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

     The black-haired young man was the first to awaken.
     His sunken and slightly droopy eyes popped open, revealing their
hazel-brown irises.
     A humming started up in his freezing tube and then a light came on
in the ceiling of the tube and burned, first pale green, then an intense
red.  A scarlet glow bathed the awakening man, followed next by a second
humming.  Very gradually, the door of the freezing tube swung open.
     The young man, taking in a careful breath, looked first around the
ship, then out of the main viewing window at the ship's bow.  "We---We
made it," he muttered in a dry, weak voice.  "We're safe."
     Gradually, awareness returned to his face.  He began flexing the
gloved fingers of his right hand.
     He took another breath and then stepped out of the freezing tube. 
His legs shook and wobbled as he tried to walk on them.  He put out both
arms, forming his body into a T-shape, and walked as if on a balance
beam, toward the right side of the Jupiter 2's flight deck.  He ran his
tongue over his lips several times and shook his head slowly from side to
side.
     "Atmosphere in---the Jupiter---somehow doesn't feel quite right."
     Swaying slightly, he made his way to the little porthole on the
right hemisphere of the circular ship and looked out.  He frowned, mouth
opening, and then pulled his head back.
     He shook his head and began to inspect the other plastic freezing
tubes.  He looked in on the children first.  "All okay," he said after a
few minutes.
     From a slash pocket in his one-piece silver flight suit, he took a
small plastic key.
     He walked over to the main helm and cockpit, knelt by the first
slanted control panel, inserted the key in a little hole in the right
hand corner and turned it.
     An uneven humming seemed to come from the freezing tube of the
middle-aged man and woman. Sparks appeared on the seams, followed by
little wisps of smoke.  Then the doors of their tubes swung open.
     "John, Maureen," he breathed.  "Wake up! For God's sake, wake up!"
     The auburn haired woman's eyelids fluttered before her husband's
did.  She opened her eyes and looked at him with no sign of recognition."
     "Who--?"
     "It's only me.  Major Don West, your pilot."
     The man called John awakened next.  "What's up, Don?  Have we
arrived at Alpha Centauri yet?"
     "That's just it," said Major West.  "I haven't the faintest idea
where we are.  Someone's kidnapped us."
     Maureen Robinson glanced around at the remaining freezing tubes. 
"Will?  Penny? Judy?"
     "They're fine," Don answered.  "But I'll be damned if I'm gonna
revive them.  Not the way things look out there."
     "I'm afraid my wife and I don't follow you," John Robinson said as
he stepped out of his freezing tube.  "No one's supposed to be awake
until we've landed.  If this isn't Alpha Centauri, then where is it?"
     "If I knew that, John, I wouldn't have roused you and Maureen out of
your freezing tubes," he told the older black-haired man.  "We're in
either a Terran moonbase or space station, but I didn't know there were
any this far away from home.
     Maureen became concerned.  "You don't suppose we've been recaptured
by---?"
     "It's possible," he replied.  "On the other hand, it's more likely
we're in a Nationalist installation...but those fighter craft they're
housing seem a little too advanced, even for our side."
     "Then who are we dealing with?" John said.
     "All I can tell you is that they're humans, at least the ones I got
a glimpse of when I looked out the observation window."
     "Then are they the ones that revived you?" Maureen asked.
     He shook his dark head.  "The Jupiter 2 may have assumed we'd ended
the journey," he said.  "My being awakened might just be the result of a
malfunction of some kind."
     "It's no malfunction, Major," John said, coming from behind his
freezing tube.  "Somebody was puttering around in here.  Whoever it was,
he blew out the main fuse in the circuitry of the cryogenic sleep matrix. 
It's a good thing our ship can automatically repair any damaged systems,
otherwise we'd all be dead by now."
     Maureen began to walk away from her freezing tube, to come up beside
her husband.
     "Then we'll have to find out who it was," she said.
     "We're going to have to confront whoever diverted us and tell them
right out that they can't do it!" John bellowed.
     "Whoa, John!" Major West said, smiling at him.  "I know that look. 
You'd better get control of your temper."
     "It's not a temper," he said.  "I simply don't let anyone push us
around.  These people who captured us, no matter who they may be or who
they think they are, have no right whatsoever to do this.  Don, I want
you to march right out and tell them what---"
     "Aren't you forgetting my function on this ship?" Don said.  "I'm
supposed to stay here and watch the ship, protect the kids."
     "All right then, I'll scout around a bit," John Robinson said. 
"Find out what I can."
     "Not without me you're not," Maureen said.  "I'm can handle myself
as well as you can."
     "I know, I know," the Robinson patriarch responded.  "But I'm not
comfortable with---"
     "There's no debate about it!" Maureen became cross.  "I'm going out
there with you---end of story!"
     After a few seconds, Don said, "Like the President told us when we
left Terra, 'Go in peace.'  And watch your temper too.  Don't let them
hurt Maureen."
     "You know I won't," promised John Robinson.

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

     It was chilly in the large domed meeting chamber of the Council of
Twelve and in the brief silences between verbal exchanges the faint
metallic chattering of the air circulation systems could be heard.
     Sire Geller, a look of satisfaction on his plump face, was saying,
"Very well.  It has been decided.  Since the support systems are failing
anyway, we will, therefore, remove these humans from the ship known as
Jupiter 2 as quickly and expediently as possible."
     Commander Adama said, "I won't be party to that.  You just heard
Doctor Salik tell you it might well kill them."
     "We'll be as careful and prudent as possible," Geller assured him,
rubbing at one of his chins.  "We'll begin with the oldest member among
our space family.  He would undoubtedly have the least trouble adjusting
to his unfamiliar surroundings."
     "Gentlemen, you still don't understand," said Salik, rising up out
of his chair.
     "We understand very well and have cast our votes accordingly,"
Geller reminded him.
     Doctor Salik shook his head from side to side.  "I will not be
responsible for six deaths."
     "But you're not responsible, we are," said the fat buritician.  "The
responsibility is ours, you are merely carrying out the will of the
Council."
     "No, I can't."
     "Doctor, let me remind you that you have been ordered to do this."
     Salik took a step back from the vast table.  "Let me remind you,
Sire, that you'll have to find another doctor."  He pivoted on his heel
and went walking out of the room.
     When the startled murmuring faded, Geller turned to Adama. 
"Commander, go talk some sense into that man.  Please."
     Slowly, the commander rose up.  "Oh, I intend to, yes," he said.
     "Excellent.  I trust you'll remind him of his duties?"
     "Not quite.  I plan to tell him that I'm quite proud of him," said
Adama, smiling to himself.  "Somehow, lately, I've been seeing few and
fewer men standing up for the things they believe in."
     "You can't go condoning insubordination," said Geller, puffing, "not
with the morale of the fleet hanging in the balance."
     "I suggest you gentlemen reconsider your vote," said the commander
as he walked toward an exitway.  "I'd hate to see this lead to conflict
among us."
     "Ah, but it won't come to that," said Geller, with a bit less than
complete conviction.
     "Don't be too sure, sire," said Adama.

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

Chapter Nine: Emergence

     Starbuck and Apollo stood with their back to the open entryway of
the Earth ship.
     "That smirk on Wilker's face scares me," said Starbuck, chomping
down on his cigar.
     The scientist, flanked by two security guards, was hurrying up to
the Earth ship.
     "Gentlemen, I regret to inform you," said Doctor Wilker, smiling
smugly, "that you've lost.  The Council has voted and the space family is
to be revived at once."
     "You can't be serious," said Starbuck.  "The whole damn Council as
dimwitted as you are?  Couldn't be."
     One of the security men said, "Step aside, please."
     "The vote is official, I assure you," said Wilker.  Turning, he
gestured toward the Earth ship.  "Since I can't get any co-operation from
the people aboard the Galactica, I've summoned two very efficient, and
obedient, Med Techs from another ship of the fleet."
     Bowing his head, Starbuck rubbed his hands together.  "What do you
say, Apollo?" he inquired.  "Think we can persuade these gents to keep
out?"
     Apollo gave a negative shake of his head.  "It's no use," he said. 
"We can't go against the Council."
     "Oh, no?" Starbuck said.  "I've done it before and, chum, I'm more
than ready to..."
     "Put your weapons away!" Wilker said, looking beyond Starbuck, his
face whiter than a G2-class star.  "We mean you no harm!"
     Starbuck laughed himself silly.  "Check it out, Apollo!  I haven't
even drawn my laser yet and already ole Wilker's jumpin' out of his
skin."
     Nudging him, Apollo said quietly, "I think he's talking about the
man and woman standing behind you, Starbuck."
     Starbuck turned to see what Apollo was talking about.  Sure enough,
there was a man and woman standing behind him.  The man was tall, 6
metrons, at least.  His hazel eyes were set within a strong face topped
by dark brown hair.  Every woman in the fleet would have been swooning
over him, had he only been a Colonial.  The woman beside him was
5-metrons tall, with blue eyes, and had auburn hair.  To Apollo's
observant eyes, this woman could have passed for Sheba's mother because
the resemblance was so strong.  
Unfortunately, both of them had strange-looking black pistols leveled at
the Colonial party.
     "I don't what you people have in mind," the black-haired man said,
"but I think it only fair to say that if you try anything cute, my wife
and I will shoot you all dead right now!"
     Despite the man's chilling threat, Starbuck continued to laugh. 
"Well, I'll be a daggit on a sunspot!  Looks like they didn't need
Wilker's help to wake up."
     "These two didn't, anyway," said Apollo.  He took a step toward the
dark-haired man, holding his hand out in greeting.  "Welcome to the
Galactica.  I'm Captain Apollo and this is Lieutenant Starbuck."
     Ignoring the greeting, the dark-haired man snarled, "You put that
hand down be-fore I burn it off!"
     The auburn-haired woman studied Apollo for a split instant, and then
lowered her pistol.
     "John," she said.  "Maybe we should..."
     "Don't bother me!" he scolded.  "I know what I'm doing!"  To Apollo,
his pistol still leveled at him: "All right, you've told me your names,
so I guess I'll tell you ours.  I'm John Robinson, commander of the space
ship Jupiter 2.  Beside me is my wife.  My whole family and our pilot are
in there."  He indicated the Earth ship with his thumb.  "If you try to
harm us..."
     "Listen up, guy," said Starbuck.  "We aren't out to hurt you or your
family.  In fact, we've been risking our astrums to see that nobody did
you any harm."
     Doctor Wilker was scanning the middle-aged man and his apparent
wife.  "Please hear me out," he said in a different tone of voice than
the one he'd been previously using.  "I'm a scientist, Wilker is my name,
and I merely want to come aboard and help you.  You and your family."
     Reese, the security guard who'd been bothering Apollo and Starbuck
back in the lounge, said,  "Sorry, doc, we can't baby those two anymore."
He pushed by the doctor and started for the Jupiter 2.  "Everyone raise
weapons!" he ordered his men.
     The gun in John Robinson's hand buzzed like an angry hornet.  A beam
of yellow light came knifing out of its barrel to hit the charging
Reese's broad chest.
     Reese made a sudden whimpering sound.  His hands started to clutch
his chest, but then his fingers went slack.  He collapsed to the floor
like a sack of dirty laundry.
     "Impressive," said Starbuck, glancing from the fallen man to the
gun.
     Wilker dropped to Reese's side and took hold of his wrist, checking
for a pulse.  "He's alive," he said.  "It looks like our friend 'John'
was bluffing.  His weapon can't kill, only stun."
     "Yes, it can kill," barked John Robinson.  "I only set it to stun so
that if I had to shoot, you all would understand that I mean business." 
He took one step away from his wife, who was still standing close to the
ship.  "I would prefer not to kill anybody."
     "So would we," said Starbuck.  "Live and let live, that's our
motto."
     Apollo said.  "I can see why you're uneasy.  We ought to just talk
and see if we can't come to some sort of understanding."
     The woman called Maureen Robinson suddenly stepped forward, in
Apollo's direction.  "Yes, we will talk," she said.  "But first, I want
to know why we've been brought here."  She and John were taking rapid,
short breaths and their faces were getting paler as they stood there.
     "Well, we didn't mean any harm," began Apollo, taking a step closer. 
"See, you and I...all of us really are brothers."
     "No, that couldn't be."  John gestured at the docking bay and the
people in it.  "None of this is familiar to us.  There's not a one of you
dressed in any style we know."
     "Brothers," said Apollo, "who were separated, we think, quite awhile
ago. We've been searching for--"
     "What is this place?"  Maureen said.  "It doesn't seem to be one of
our abandoned moonbases."
     "It's not a moonbase, it's a ship," said Apollo.  "We call it a
battlestar and it's named Galactica."
     John Robinson looked straight up.  "I don't buy it, friend! 
They...cannot...make... ...spaceships...this big..."
     John and Maureen's hands fluttered.  John reached out to try to
catch hold of something.
     Instead, the couple dropped to the floor like flies, their heads
smacking the metal and they both lay still.
     "Frak!" exclaimed Starbuck.  "Is he dead or what?"
     "Don't touch them!"
     It was Doctor Salik, who had just arrived on the scene and
Cassiopeia was with him.
     "I don't need you, Salik," Wilker assured his colleague.  "I'm
perfectly capable of handling this."
     Ignoring him, Salik crouched beside the man and woman.  "They're
having severe respiratory problems."
     "It's the atmospheric density," said Cassiopeia.
     "Good thinking, nurse," said Doctor Salik.  "Apollo, you and
Starbuck rush these two to the decomp chambers.  Cassie, they'll need
about one fifth of our own atmosphere to thrive."
     "Hadn't you better come along?" asked Apollo as he and the
lieutenant carefully picked up John and Maureen.

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

     Maureen looked up at her caregiver, struggling to get a few words
out before he was about to close the lid on the decomp chamber.  Her face
was pale and tinged with blue.  "What...what have you done with...my
husband?"
     "We're taking care of him now.  There's nothing to worry about,"
Doctor Salik assured her as he leaned in closer.  "I'm only here to help
you, so don't be afraid of me."
     "Who...who are you?"
     "My name is Salik.  I'm a doctor.  A medical doctor."
     "I... my name is...Maureen...Maureen Robinson," she said gasping in
air.  "I don't... I don't understand...why...why am I...why was John...
having trouble breathing..."
     "You're simply not used to the same sort of atmosphere that we are,
Maureen."  He resumed lowering the hood of the de-comp chamber on Maureen
Robinson, but was stopped when she put resistance on it with her hand.
     "Will...Penny... Judy...You...mustn't hurt them..."
     "We won't.  Which one of you was revived first?"
     Maureen shook her head.  "Our pilot, Don West.  The ship is
programmed to awaken the pilot automatically, in case of trouble."
     "He woke up first and then woke you and your husband up?"
     "That's---that's right.  He'll---be worried when we're overdue---I'm
sure."
     "Will he be coming out of the ship to look for you?"
     "No," Maureen gasped.  "His orders are to stay with the ship no
matter what.  He only woke John and me up so that...so that we
could...find out where we were...why the ship wasn't moving anymore."
     "Now, about Will, Penny and Judy; when will they come out of
suspension?"
     "The ship...is programmed...to awaken them...when we reach our
destination..."
     "Where's that?"
     "Alpha...Alpha Centauri...P-Planet...Four...But...this...this
isn't...Alpha Centauri...is it?"
     "No, it isn't," Salik said, closing down the hood of the decomp
chamber over Maureen's body.

********************************************
     
Chapter Ten: Mission Neither Approved Nor Disapproved

     In the center of a vast whiteness sat two grey respirator units. 
They bore an eerie resemblance to coffins and held the man and the woman
who called themselves John and Maureen Robinson.  
     Doctor Salik was leaning over the one that was aiding the
middle-aged redheaded woman.  "They both seem to be doing fine," he said.
     Starbuck took a thoughtful chew on his dead cigar.  "You call that
fine?  They're flat on their backs and out cold."
     "I should, falling back on an old medical cliche, have said they
were doing as well as could be expected, said the doctor as he made a
delicate adjustment on one of the dials of Maureen's breathing tank.
     Apollo said, "What do you mean by that, Doctor?"
     Putting his hands in his uniform's pockets and gazing up at the
rimmed ceiling of this wing of the Life Station, Salik replied, "Exactly
what I said: they're doing fine---as long as they stay in these
respirators."
     "Which doesn't make for a very fun-filled lifestyle, if you think
about it," said Starbuck.
     "It's better than being dead," answered the physician.
     "But not much better," said Starbuck.  "Oh, guys.  This is my fault. 
I never should've---"
     "There's no time for faults now, young man," Salik admonished.  "If
I may please outline the problem once more..."
     "Proceed," said Apollo.
     "Thank you," Salik began, facing the nervous captain and the nervous
lieutenant.  "It's the pressure of our environment here on the Galactica. 
It was literally starting to crush them.  Our air pressure is
substantially stronger than what they are accustomed to."
     "But they're human, like us, so they ought to have been in an
environment very much like this," said Captain Apollo.
     "We're adaptable," said Doctor Salik.  "It may be that over many
millennia their environment, the air they breathe, grew thinner.  Very
gradually, so that the majority of them could adapt to it easily."
     "The reverse could also be true," offered Apollo.  "Our environment
grew heavier."
     Salik nodded.  "It's irrelevant," he said.  "The bottom line is that
they're simply not able to function in our world here."
     "And they can never come out of those tanks?" said Starbuck.
     "You saw what happened to John Robinson," said Salik.
     Starbuck eyed Apollo.  "We are, old chum, going to have to do
something about this," he said firmly.

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

     Commander Adama stood at the view window in his quarters.  His
forehead was furrowed.  "We came very close to finding other humans," he
said.  "Perhaps the home planet of the Thirteenth Tribe itself."
     Clearing his throat, Colonel Tigh said, "I see no good reason why we
can't sustain them, in hopes that they'll regain enough strength to
communicate with us."
     Apollo and Starbuck were sitting, uneasy, in twin chairs across the
room.  Apollo said, "We can't do that, colonel."
     Tigh scowled.  "We have to, Captain," he said.  "The lives of every
man, woman and child in this fleet may well depend on the answers.  We
must know if Earth can support us, if she is technically advanced enough
to help us ward off our enemies and if she can protect herself if a Cylon
invasion were to occur."
     "I can appreciate what you're saying," chimed in Apollo.  "The thing
is, Colonel, the life of the Robinson family isn't ours to do with as we
please.  No matter how important we may think these people may be to our
own future."
     "As one warrior to another," said the colonel, "you must surely
understand that in some situations the lives of the few must be risked
for the good or the many."
     "But not this time!" insisted Apollo.
     Adama watched his son for a few silent microns.  "You and Starbuck
are the ones who brought these space wanderers to us, Apollo," he
reminded."
     "That was Starbuck's mistake," Apollo told him, looking at the
suddenly downcast lieutenant.  "He shouldn't have done it."
     "This is ridiculous!" said Tigh.  "While the lives of our people
hang in the balance, we're sitting around like a bunch of guilty children
and bewailing the obvious."
     "Just a milicenton, Tigh," said the commander.  "Apollo, what are
you getting at?"
     "Starbuck had no right to interrupt their journey," his son
answered.  "And, since I failed to act in my capacity as his commanding
officer to stop him, that makes me as guilty as he is.  Therefore, it our
responsibility to get the Jupiter 2 back on its way."
     Adama crossed to a large armchair and seated himself.  "Suppose
their operating systems are no longer capable of carrying them safely to
their destination?"
     "The operating systems can be put back in first class order," said
Apollo.  "That's not a problem."
     "Suppose," suggested Colonel Tigh, "we turn the Jupiter 2 loose, as
you propose, and a Cylon patrol intercepts it?  We'd be sending the
Robinsons to their deaths."
     "Somehow, I don't think that's gonna happen, Colonel," said
Starbuck.  "It's been sectons and we haven't seen or heard so much as
even one Cylon."
     "And I'll take a team of volunteers with their ship to protect it on
its voyage," said Apollo.
     Steepling his fingers, Adama rested his strong chin on them. 
"You've been doing quite a bit of thinking about this?"
     "Yes," said Apollo.  "Some of what I think...no, make that what I
feel."  He nodded at the colonel.  "This isn't based on logic, entirely,
nor on sound military thinking and planning."  He leaned back in his
chair, took a slow deep breath.  "I feel that the Robinsons are being
beckoned to some specific destination.  And there, maybe, we can also
find some of the answers we need."
     The commander lowered his hands, rested his palms on his knees. 
"Our life systems seem incompatible."
     "No, it's not exactly that," said Apollo.  "I've kicked some of
these notions around with Doctor Salik and he agrees.  You see these
people, our reluctant guests, can't accept the weight of our
pressurization.  But we, on the other hand, have experienced short terms
in environments with far less pressure than our own.  Where they're
going, I believe we can survive."
     "And if you're wrong?" asked Colonel Tigh.
     "That's a risk we'll have to take," answered Apollo.  "Weren't you
just talking about the few taking a chance for the many?"
     "Being pigheaded and foolish wasn't exactly what I meant."
     "If anybody's pigheaded hereabouts," put in Lieutenant Starbuck,
"meaning no offense, sir, it's not the captain here."
     "Oh, really?" Tigh glowered at Starbuck.  "Lose that cocky attitude
of yours right now or I'll put you on report!"
     "Gentlemen," said Adama quietly.  "I'd like to think we're above
squabbling at important times like this."  He crossed to a communications
screen in the wall and punched out a number.
     The screen popped to life and then Doctor Salik appeared.  "Yes,
Commander?" He glanced back over his shoulder, as though anxious to get
back to what he'd been doing.
     "Doctor, have you and my son been conspiring?"  Adama said.
     Salik shrugged.  "I simply expressed my opinions to Apollo," he
replied.  "Opinions backed up, I might add, with a shipload of facts."
     "Then let me make sure I understand you.  The only chance the
Robinsons have of surviving is to be allowed to continue on with their
journey?"
     "They can survive here on Galactica if we keep them permanently
imprisoned in depressurized canisters."
     "With no guarantee that we'd ever be able to communicate with them?"
     "I'm afraid that's right," answered the doctor.  "I can't rule out
the possibility that eventually we might be able to work out some means
of communication, however."
     "I see, thank you."  Adama killed the image on the screen.
     "Well?" said his son as he watched him return to his chair.
     "You have just one obstacle, Apollo," Adama replied.  "The Jupiter 2
cannot leave without the Council's approval."
     "There isn't time for a political debate," said Starbuck.  "Those
buriticians'll kick this around for eons and still not get to an answer." 

     "Suppose we suggest that this is a military problem, pure and
simple," said Apollo, sitting up and grinning.
     "I don't quite see how this falls under military jurisdiction," said
Adama.
     "John Robinson, the first human to emerge from the ship, gunned down
a security guard, didn't he?"
     "Right!" said Starbuck.  "Therefore we'd be justified in taking
decisive action to remove further threats of violence against us."
     "The guard was only stunned," said Colonel Tigh.
     "The wisest course," Apollo began, "would be for Starbuck and
me...that is, if you volunteer for this, good buddy?"
     Giving him a mock salute, Starbuck answered, "At your service."
     "For Starbuck and me to remove the possibility of any further danger
to the fleet," continued Apollo.  "That we do so by placing the hostile
craft back on its original course."
     "The Council just might have a problem with that," said Tigh.
     "Not if we can assure them that the Jupiter 2 is still under our
control," said Apollo.  "Because we'll be escorting it to its
destination."
     "This is absolutely unacceptable!" cried the colonel.  "For Sagan's
sake, Apollo, you're talking about flim-flamming the Council!"
     Suddenly, the communication screen buzzed.
     Adama activated it and found Sire Geller's chubby face glaring at
him from the screen.
     "The Council is considerably upset," began Geller, "and the fleet is
deeply concerned."
     "Why is that?" asked the commander.
     "We hear news that this space family of yours has come back to life
and attempted to kill several security guards."
     "Then that news has reached you in a somewhat exaggerated form,"
Adama said to him.
     "Exaggerated or not, you can't deny that there was shooting?"
     "No, I cannot," said Adama.  "In fact, sire, I can tell you that
even now we are dealing with this situation."
     Geller's chins waggled.  "I would expect you to," he said.  "Up to
now, you know, we haven't been very pleased with the way you've handled
things.  We expect a full report as soon as possible."  The screen went
blank.
     Chuckling, Adama said, "Usually, I hang up on him."
     "They want answers as soon as possible," said Apollo, rising and
moving to his father's side.  "My plan won't work unless we get moving
right now, before the Council takes any further action."
     The Commander moved again to the view window.  "I can't say yes," he
said slowly, "and, yet, I can't say no either."
     "Good," said Colonel Tigh bouncing once in his chair.  "Am I to
assume that the mission is scrubbed?"
     "On the other hand, I've said nothing about scrubbing the mission,"
Adama said.  "Do we understand each other?"
     Apollo nodded and caught Starbuck's arm.  "We sure do, father," he
said.  "Let's move!"
     "Righto!" Starbuck popped up and follow