Battlestar Galactica-The Terran Gambit Virtual Season 4, Pegasus series By Eric Paddon July, 2019 Prologue "The prisoner will step forward." The short, middle-aged man warily did so. He wore the remnants of what had once been an elaborate uniform lined with numerous decorations but after six months in detention and his trial, much of it was threadbare now, and the decorations long since ripped away to signify the disgrace he had now sunk to. "And now," the voice that had spoken continued in that cool, contemptuous tone of voice it was noted for, "the prisoner will be afforded one final statement for the record." The man drew himself up to a posture of dignity. Trying to let those who were watching get some reminder of who he had been. "All I have done has been for the good of the Alliance," he said in a low tone of proud defiance. "I brought the Alliance to its greatest heights of power. What happened to us......is not my fault." "Wrong!" the voice angrily shouted. It's occupant was still hidden in the shadows behind the bright glare of spotlights that shined on the man who was now standing. "Your reckless action placed us in a position to be given our most humiliating defeat, and you alone bear responsibility for it." The man grew angry, "*You* knew!" he shouted at the source of the voice, "You knew what the real reason behind our humiliation was, yet you kept silent while you accumulated power for yourself!" A dry, contemptuous laugh came from behind the spotlights. "Oh come now. You know exactly why I was prevented from telling you about the real danger that existed. One of your lapdogs, who has already been disposed of, Group Commandant Kronstadt, was responsible for that. And who was responsible for Kronstadt's appointment to head the garrison at Lunar Seven?" "You could have stopped me from implementing the disarmament and the withdrawals!" the man shouted. "Kronstadt had you released before they went into effect! You could have said something then!" "Are you making a formal charge?" the hidden voice said coolly. "If so, produce your evidence." "I have none! But I know! I know you and how your mind works! You were willing to let the humiliation go through if it meant you could seize power for yourself! Power for yourself comes ahead of the Alliance in your mind!" A mocking chuckle went up. "I think we have heard enough. It is time now." The last thing the man saw was a uniformed arm emerging from behind the glare of the spotlight, raised high in the air, and then motioning itself down. From the right and the left a barrage of firepower then struck the man in all areas of his body. He staggered about for two steps and then, his life already over, he collapsed to the floor face down. With that, the former Supreme Commandant of the Eastern Alliance came to his inglorious end. A silence came over the room for the next minute and was broken by the sound of footsteps moving across the floor. Footsteps of the man who had kept himself hidden behind the spotlight so that the deposed Supreme Commandant could not see him when the end came. The uniformed man came up to the body of the dead leader and looked down at him with a smug, contemptuous, satisfied smile. "Your time is over," Commandant Leiter said, "Mine has now begun. And with it, the rebirth of the Alliance." Chapter One "The purpose of this strategy session," Cain said at the head of the conference table located in the Briefing Room of the Pegasus, "is to discuss the next objective in the itinerary of the Pegasus, which is the Terran System. This means that Agro-Techs Wallis and Kelli, as the only two who have prior knowledge of the system, will give us as full an accounting as they can, and will answer all questions put to them by myself and the senior levels of Command Staff. The record will note that for this meeting, Command Staff members consist of myself, Colonel Tolen as Executive Officer; Major Ham as Senior Bridge Officer; Captain Skyler as Commander of Silver Spar Squadron; Dr. Arnoff as Chief Electronics Scientist; and finally.......Professor Ila as Senior Policy Advisor." Cain then leaned back in his chair, "Wallis, Kelli......in your own words, explain what you know of this Terran System and what the Galactica experienced there." "Thank you Commander," the nervous agro-tech with the occasional stammer started, "The....experience of the Galactica at Terra took place some eight sectars after the separation from the Pegasus. By this point in time, the danger of Cylon pursuit had passed with the capture of Baltar-----," he stopped and then asked, "Do we need to explain the whole situation regarding Baltar?" "No, you don't, Wallis," Cain said, "We learned the basic details of that from Commander Lucifer's memory banks. Isn't that right, Dr. Arnoff?" "Yes," the Electronics Scientist nodded and consulted his notes, "Baltar was captured and imprisoned. And then, according to the mole the Cylons had for a time, he bartered his freedom by giving intelligence to Adama that allowed a lone baseship to be infiltrated and disabled so the Galactica could destroy it. Baltar was then marooned on a planet and rescued later by Commander Lucifer, which soon led to the events that took place after the Galactica left Brylon Station." "You two have nothing to contradict that?" Cain asked the two Galactica refugees. "No, Commander," Kelli shook her head. "Obviously, we know nothing of what happened after they left Brylon, but that summary of prior events is as we remembered them." "So we can move on from that," the Commander nodded, "Now let's get back to Terra then. You say this happened eight sectars after the separation from the Pegasus?" "Yes, Commander," Kelli decided she should take charge given her husband's awkward disposition. "I think instead of giving you a narrative of events as they unfolded from the beginning, we should summarize the basic nature of what exists at Terra. What it consists of is a human civilization that was in a state of war with each other. Two rival government factions, one called the Nationalists, the other called the Eastern Alliance." "The Nationalists were the more enlightened, democratic side, while the Alliance was ruthless and militaristic," Wallis felt comfortable now that Kelli had broken the ice in terms of setting the tone of the narrative, "More reminiscent of the Cylons in how they acted. They massacred an entire Nationalist settlement on a satellite planet called Paradeen." "We're talking then about a civilization that had space travel capacity and wasn't just confined to Terra itself?" Colonel Tolen asked. "Yes, Colonel," Kelli nodded. "Terra was the home world, but apparently there were colony satellite worlds that extended further out from the main Terran system. Apparently these satellite colonies had been set up to harvest and manufacture new resources for the home world, but after a while the populations of those who lived on these outer colonies were incapable of living on Terra itself due to the difference in atmospheres." "Terra's atmosphere was more like the Colonies in terms of a heavy atmosphere. The planets further out had thinner atmospheres," Wallis said. "How many satellite planets are we talking about?" this from Major Ham. "At least eight, I believe," Wallis said. "They mentioned a series of planets with the prefix Lunar, which apparently extended from Lunar One to Lunar Seven, with the higher number being the furthest point out. And then the most distant planet, located in a different star system entirely, was a planet called Paradeen." "So we're talking about a two faction set-up on Terra, and part of the competition involved who controls these outer colonies?" this from Cain. "That would be about it, sir," Kelli said. "What about their military capability?" Captain Skyler entered the discussion. "Not very large ships," Wallis said. "The Galactica captured one of the Alliance destroyers and had their crew detained for some time. The destroyer was capable of fitting inside the Galactica landing bay." "But they could have mass numbers of ships which collectively would make them a formidable fighting force," Silver Spar Leader was carefully taking notes. As Squadron Leader it would be his responsibility to lead the forty-one vipers of the Pegasus into any potential military engagement. "Most likely," Kelli acknowledged, "But as to the total number, we wouldn't know that." "That's understandable," Cain nodded. "We recognize your limitations in what you can know given that you were simply agro-workers and not warriors or part of Commander Adama's inner circle. Nonetheless, it's remarkable that you've both been as well-informed about these events as you have been." "Commander Adama believed it was essential for there to be as much openness in our society as was possible," the female agro-tech was increasingly showing that she was the more eloquent speaker of the two and more at ease in the presence of important people than her husband. Ila, who occupied the chair to Cain's immediate left, and directly across from Tolen, which revealed just how important her status was as a "senior policy advisor", had been silently taking notes of her own. Now, Commander Adama's wife set her stylus down and spoke for the first time. "Given the openness you speak of, you must have heard an explanation as to the nature of where the Terrans came from, and why the decision was made to not consider settlement in this civilization. Was it because of the war between the two factions?" "No, that wasn't it, Professor Ila," Wallis felt more comfortable talking to her than he did to any of the men, "By the time the Galactica left the quadrant, the war had been settled." "Settled?" Ila lifted an eyebrow. "How?" "Well, I don't think all of the details were revealed," Wallis went on, "What we were told was that the Nationalist side had suffered some extensive losses to the Alliance, and their President had out of desperation struck a treaty with the Alliance to end hostilities. But the Alliance, similar to what the Cylons did with us, were trying to maneuver the Nationalists into being vulnerable to a sneak attack." Several groans went up from the table at hearing this. Cain was shaking his head in amazement that another civilization had managed to duplicate entirely what had happened to the Colonies. "And what happened next?" Ila casually was biting the end of her stylus. A habit she'd long ago fallen into during her days of scholarly research and no matter how much reproach she got from others over it, she couldn't help it. She'd even quipped once to Adama that she could either bite on the end of a stylus or take up smoking cigarellos. Her husband then admitted that given a choice, he preferred she stick to biting the end of a stylus. "Well.....the Galactica was able to intervene somehow. They detected that the Alliance was going to launch a sneak attack but they arrived and stopped it in a way that.....forced the Alliance to accept terms ending their conflict that were favorable to the Nationalists. So the situation was stable when we left the area." "But the Alliance knew that the Galactica was responsible for the intervention, didn't they?" Cain asked. "In that context, all they would have had to do was bide their time and wait for the Galactica to depart." "I don't think that's how it happened, Commander," Kelli said. "The.....implication we were left with when the story was recapped on Inter Fleet Broadcasting was that the Alliance was led to believe that some secret weapon in the Nationalist arsenal was responsible." "Secret weapon?" Tolen frowned. "Well.....nothing out of the ordinary, Colonel. A normal use of the Galactica's firepower that made the Alliance think a Nationalist weapon destroyed their nuclear arsenal." "Nuclear arsenal?" this from Sklyer, "Like ballistic style missiles?" "Something like that," Wallis conceded. "That certainly indicates they couldn't have been further than the fifth millennium from a technology standpoint," Dr. Arnoff chimed in. Cain held up his hands to indicate silence, "All right, let's take a micron to synthesize all this. The Galactica intervened to stop the war between the Nationalists and the Eastern Alliance in a way that resulted in better terms for the Nationalists, the more enlightened side in the conflict. So after two yahrens since the Galactica left, what does that potentially indicate?" "Well, I'd say there are several possibilities," Tolen took the initiative, "First, things have stayed stable and there's no war going on any longer, which would be the best possible option." "Like the Zykonians and the Ziklagi," Ham said dryly. "Second, the truce the Galactica arranged to the benefit of the Nationalists has broken down and fighting has resumed," Tolen went on. "And then, we'd have to deal with the ramifications of which side is winning." "Gentlemen," Ila cut in, putting her stylus down, "Before we go further into that matter, I don't think I got an answer to the other question I initially had. Can I pursue that area first?" "Go ahead, Professor," Cain nodded with deference. "Thank you. Now Wallis, Kelli.......what connection did the Galactica determine existed between Terran civilization and the Thirteenth Tribe?" "Oh...well, I don't think any connection was ever made clear," Wallis glanced over at his wife, "Isn't that how it was presented?" "Yes, there was never anything specific mentioned," Kelli admitted. "What I remember from Commander Adama's statement was that there was a determination that Terra wasn't Earth, and therefore it would not be appropriate to settle there. That's why the Fleet moved on." "Was there any backlash over that decision?" Ila asked as she made another notation. The two Galactica refugees were looking at Commander Adama's wife with an air of unease. Ila noticed it right away and gave them a reassuring smile. "Please don't feel like you should spare my feelings just because I'm Adama's wife. Total candor and honesty about what you witnessed and experienced is what we need to hear from the both of you." "Thank you, Professor," Wallis was relieved, "There wasn't a widespread backlash against the decision. The.....Council of Twelve accepted it. But.....there was some individual resentment because at the time, it seemed like we'd successfully eluded Cylon pursuit, and from the standpoint of people like.....Kelli and me, just after our second child had been born, that there shouldn't have been any difference whether or not we settled on Terra or on Earth. And.....Terra at least at the time was something real and viable." "And before you ask, yes, that was when we started to entertain the thought of abandoning the Galactica at the next viable planet we put into, and of course that happened to be Brylon V," Kelli added. "I understand," Ila said with sympathy. "I understand why the journey to Earth can seem so daunting to many. It requires a lot of self-sacrifice." "But I have to admit, it is rather amazing that Adama abandoned the Terra system without establishing its actual connection to the Thirteenth Tribe," Cain noted. "It seems to me that's something we have to find out. Especially if there are any examples of Kobollian technology that can help augment what we took from the weather planet. Speaking of which, Dr. Arnoff, I think you have an update on that matter?" "Yes sir, I do," the scientist nodded. "Professor Ila's translation of the Kobollian formula for how their communication system works is not yet complete. But in the meantime, we have learned from our first study of Commander Lucifer's deep memory banks that the Cylons have achieved a breakthrough in instant long-range communications themselves that could operate on the same principle as Kobollian technology." "What kind of breakthrough?" Cain asked. "One that at the time of the post-Brylon battle with the Galactica enabled the Cylon baseships to communicate directly with Gomorrah," the scientist said, "And in turn, there was a direct communications link between Gomorrah and the Cylon home planet. Patching the two connections together it was theoretically possible for the task force to talk directly with the Imperious Leader." An amazed murmur went up from everyone else at the table. The most surprised look came from Ila. "Dr. Arnoff," she said, "You've just confirmed something that those of us in the Resistance movement only suspected. That some form of communications breakthrough had been accomplished to let the High Command talk directly to field commanders aboard baseships. But the command centurions we've spoken to who've defected or who secretly collaborate with us like Commander Vulpa have no firsthand experience with that system. Apparently the Imperious Leader isn't using it to talk with bases in close proximity to the home planet which would include the Colonies and also Arcta." "Couldn't there be a connection to this breakthrough with any of Dr. Ravashol's experiments?" Cain asked. "I'm not questioning his loyalty, but the Cylon High Command did have access to a lot of his material from what you've told me." Ila shook her head, "Dr. Ravashol's experiments in communications couldn't begin to account for that. He's worked on advanced short-range systems that help the various Resistance groups on the different Colonies contact each other without being detected by loyal Centurion units. Long-range systems are too risky for him to develop." "I wasn't talking about technology obtained after he started helping the Resistance," Cain said, "I was wondering if maybe the original Ravashol pulsar, which was tied into communications before the Cylons forced him to turn it into a weapon, could tie into that." The Academician was adamant, "Commander Vulpa said the High Command wasn't interested in the old purpose of the pulsar when he took over the garrison. Whatever they've done in communications could only post-date the destruction of the pulsar and wherever they got their technological breakthrough on it couldn't have come from Dr. Ravashol." "I'll trust your analysis of that, Professor," Cain raised a hand, not wanting to belabor the point any further. "Dr. Arnoff, do the Lucifer memory banks offer any suggestion of how the principle works?" "From what we've been able to analyze, Lucifer may not have understood how the principle worked. All he needed to do was activate the transmitter and receiver that was installed on his baseship. And that probably was installed without him being briefed on how the principle worked," the scientist said. "But one thing he did know was that in order to use the system, it required massive use of power. And that meant the longer the communication, the more power reserves were drained. So the system could only be used sparingly and not for indefinite conversation." "Interesting," Cain brought his hands together, "That means.....there's a transmitter already in place on Gomorrah, which is our ultimate objective. Maybe the Lucifer banks can shed some light on where its located so that when we finally arrive there......we'll know where it is and what we'll have to do." "Commander Cobre and his team I know can also give their technical advice on how such a system might be guarded," Arnoff added. "My God," Ila suddenly whispered as she looked down at her notes. "What?" Cain and all other eyes looked at her. "Well if I follow all of this......the baseship has a transmitter and receiver capable of talking to Gomorrah.....and this would be the same baseship that defected to the Fleet and is with them now. That means in theory, the Galactica already has the means to talk to Gomorrah whenever they want to!" A murmur went up throughout the room. "Yes," Cain nodded, "Yes, they do. And if the Cylon means of transmitting across great distances is something based on principles of Kobollian technology......then if we were able to develop our own transmitter with what we took from the weather planet.......we'd be able to contact the Galactica before we even reach Gomorrah! It wouldn't be necessary to seize the system they have!" "Commander, we're not even close to figuring out how the Kobollian transmitter works yet," Arnoff cautioned. "Well in that case you'd better get back to work on that, Doctor!" Cain rose, "I'd like to thank all of you for attending this strategy session. It's clear that in the short-term, we still need to travel to this Terran system to get some more answers about their connections to the Thirteenth Tribe and if they have more Kobollian technology at their disposal that we can potentially make use of. We'll have to decide how to best approach the system as we get closer. If it turns out that the war between the Nationalists and the Eastern Alliance has erupted again, then we'll need to exercise caution and try to avoid serious military engagements, just like we did with the Risiks." "Commander?" Wallis raised his hand. "Yes, Wallis?" "I think if you want to find a low-key backdoor way of figuring out what the current Terra situation is, it might be a good idea if we were to find the outer colony, Paradeen first. From what Kelli and I remember, the planet was devastated by the Alliance, but a handful of Nationalist people have resettled it because it was far removed from the war." "That's certainly something to consider," Cain nodded and turned to Silver Spar Leader, "Captain Skyler, you're to instruct the advance patrols to try and locate this planet Paradeen first and avoid venturing too close to the Terran system itself. The Zykonian files that were shared with us included the Galactica's star-mapping from the time of Gomorrah onward, so the planet names should be in those files. Make sure all pilots study them before they go out on their patrol sweeps." "Yes sir," Skyler rose. "Major Ham, Colonel Tolen, please return to the Bridge. Maintain current course and heading. Professor Ila.....I suggest you return to the translation work of the Kobollian formula on the transmitter we recovered, while Dr. Arnoff continues to study the Cylon angle of how they did it. Wallis, Kelli.....thank you again for bringing us a perspective on what the Galactica did. We'd be much worse off without that information." "Thank you, Commander," Kelli bowed with gratitude as everyone else rose. "Dismissed." Ila had finished gathering her notes and said little to Cain before leaving. She knew that the two of them were likely to have a more thorough talk about longer-term strategy but for now, that could wait. She was only interested in getting something to eat and then going back to work on translating the lengthy technical documents taken from the Weather Planet. "Professor Ila?" she heard a voice from behind her in the corridor and turned around to see Kelli. "Yes?" "I was.....wondering if we could have lunch in the wardroom?" "I was just on my way there," Ila said. "Will your husband join us?" "No, he has to get back to the agro-lab. Besides, I think it would be better if it were just the two of us." Ila smiled, "I'd be glad to. I don't get too much of a chance for woman to woman talk on this ship as it is." "Me neither!" the female agro-tech was relieved she'd said yes. "Bridge Officer Kylie is the only one I've really gotten to know." "Likewise," Ila admitted. "But she's so tied up on the Bridge manning the helm I don't get as much of a chance to talk with her as I'd like." "Same with me," Kelli admitted as they started to walk alongside each other, "And I wish it was more often because my children really like her. A lot more than the med-tech nurse assigned to look after them." "Nothing wrong there, I hope." "Oh no, nothing wrong, it's just......my children took more to Kylie when Cain made her look after them during the time at Brylon. The med-tech nurse, Ivey, her name is.....she just doesn't have Kylie's way with children." "I know it can't be easy for them, being the only two children on this ship," Ila admitted. "I think at some point, if it's clear that Kylie is really the best one to act as an aunt-like figure for them, Cain should make that part of her duties and cut back on the time she has to spend on the Bridge." "I just haven't felt like bringing that up with Cain," Kelli sighed. "It'd seem like so much of an imposition. Particularly if he really values Kylie's place on the Bridge." "Cain has to think of the morale of everyone aboard this ship," Ila said. "Especially the only two little ones. If I have a word with Kylie and find out she's open to the idea, then I'll be glad to raise the subject with Cain." Kelli seemed pleased, "Oh, thank you, Professor Ila! That would be a big help for Wallis and me." "It's my pleasure," she said disarmingly, "And you can drop the title while we have that lunch." Ten centons later they'd found a private table in the corner of the wardroom where the warriors and crew of the Pegasus ate. The tables were only half full with various personnel wandering in and out. Lunch for them both consisted of a thick broth filled with maize. "I've never tasted better maize," Ila said. "The crops that grew on that planet just had a.....perfect quality to them." "Yes," Kelli admitted. "And.....back when Walli and I were gathering all that maize the first time we were there for the Galactica, that.......kind of pushed us both over the edge." "And made you resent the whole idea behind looking for Earth?" The agro-tech set her utensil down, "That's really the reason I wanted to talk to you in private, Ila," she said. "I......don't want you to ever get the impression that Wallis and I felt your husband acted in any way unfairly or improperly when it came to how we were treated in the Fleet. Even when we came to resent our situation, we never thought less of him. We know just how much sacrifice and pain he's had to endure with the responsibility of leading so many people across the stars. He's.....even come close to losing his life more than once." "The Ziklagi assassination attempt at the truce talks he headed," Ila nodded, "I read about that in the Zykonian files." "There's even more than that he's gone through," Kelli said. "Not long after the Pegasus separated from the Fleet, there was a major Cylon attack where they packed fighters with solonite to make suicide hits at the Galactica. Adama was seriously injured when the Bridge took a hit and had to undergo a major heart operation before the fires were put out." "My God," Ila whispered. It was only the fact that she'd seen Adama's image recently on the data disc captured from the Risik ship, looking in perfect health, that she could restrain her reaction to this news. The agro-tech nodded, "And it wasn't just the ordeal he personally was going through, but while those fires were raging, he had to worry about loved ones being trapped in the Rejuvenation Center on the Galactica because of the fires. Fortunately they got out safely." "Loved ones?" her concern deepened, "Who?" Kelli took a breath, "Well.....Athena, your daughter. She was in there. And so was Boomer, who I know she later married when we were at Brylon. And so was......" she stopped. "Who?" Ila frowned. "My goodness," Kelli realized, "It just occurred to me...... I was about to mention...... Apollo's son was trapped in there too with Athena and Boomer, but.....you wouldn't know who I'm talking about." "Apollo has a son?" Ila was flashing back to the rapidity of events and revelations unfolding her first days aboard the Pegasus and again at Brylon Station. She had thought by this point, especially after the discovery of the data tape in the Risik ship that all the major things she could know about her family had been filled in. "Yes......his stepson that is, but, oh my goodness....." Kelli felt embarrassed. "No, no," Ila reached out and touched her arm. "Please, fill me in. I know Apollo is now married to Cain's daughter Sheba, but......did he have some other relationship before that?" "Well, yes, he did," Kelli had recovered herself. "He was briefly married to a woman named Serina." Ila's eyebrows went up, "The broadcast journalist on the BNC?" "I.....think that was her former job, yes, although Wallis and I weren't familiar with her because we're from Piscera. What happened was......after the Destruction, the first planet we stopped at was Carillon, and-----," "I know about what happened at Carillon," Ila interrupted, "The Cylons who've joined the Resistance told me about that. You don't need to recap that story." "Thank you, that would have been a bit complicated. Anyway.....it was during the events at Carillon that I think Apollo saved Serina's son from being killed, and that kind of helped bring them together. The two of them were later sealed, but.....just days after the marriage, Serina was killed." "How?" "Well, Serina had given up broadcasting to become a warrior. We had a shortage of pilots at the time and the Galactica needed them to make up for that. It was on Kobol, the mother planet where she was killed. Shot dead by a centurion." "My God," Ila leaned back in her chair, "That had to be when Adama went there to find clues to where the Thirteenth Tribe went." "Yes," the agro-tech nodded. Apollo's mother and Adama's wife shook her head, "To go through that kind of tragedy, to find a new wife and to lose her like that.......it's incredible Apollo held up under all that." "He did," Kelli nodded, "He......took on the burden of looking after Serina's son. Even though the child isn't his biologically, as far as everyone in the Fleet is concerned he is Apollo's son and Adama's grandson, and......by extension your grandson too." "What's his name?" Ila was anxious to know. On the day she hoped and prayed she would see her family again, she knew she wanted to see this child as well and tell him she loved him as much as any of the grandchildren she now had by blood from Apollo's marriage to Sheba as well as that of Athena and Boomer. "Boxey." "Report, Krebs?" Leiter was seated in the chair of the Supreme Commandant's office, which was located on the eighth floor of the Politburo Building in the Alliance capital city of Berchteshof. He purposefully kept his back to his aide, which created the air of impersonal distance that he felt appropriate to his position. "A message from President Maxwell of the Nationalists," he said. "He congratulates you on your appointment as Supreme Commandant, and wishes your predecessor the best in his retirement to private life." Leiter let out a mocking chuckle, "My adversary knows how the game is played. To indulge in all the nice, friendly lies so common to diplomacy. But he is no fool unlike his predecessor. He knows exactly what my assumption of power means, and he is I am sure plotting how he can counter that." The new Supreme Commandant turned around, "We must start small in our road back to greatness, Krebs. Being on the right side of history means we don't have to take the too quick path like my incompetent predecessor did. Maxwell undoubtedly thinks my rise to power will mean a quick rearmament and a quick strike. He's expecting the force of rapid gunfire. Instead, he's going to get death from slow acting poison. Where the symptoms can't be treated with what he thinks is his one remaining strategic advantage over us." "Where do we begin, Commandant?" Leiter smirked, "We begin by settling an old score on far away Paradeen. Where is Commander Suloff?" "He is currently supervising repair work on Destroyer Four. It will be completed this afternoon." "When he's done, tell him to report to me immediately for full briefing on what is to take place." "The Alliance acknowledges receipt of your message, Mr. President." Retired General Robert Maxwell, now President of the Terran Nationalist Government, didn't bother turning around as he looked out his office window at the capitol city of Lemuria outside. His arms were folded. He could see in the late afternoon sunshine the sights of so many people going about their normal routine in life. Seemingly content and happy that their lives had been untainted by war the last two years. All the while not knowing how fragile that sense of security really was. For them, the President thought sadly, their ignorance was truly bliss. "And they no doubt expressed their polite little courtesies in return, didn't they, Art?" Art Moore, the holdover chief of staff from the administration of Maxwell's predecessor, David Arends, nodded, "They did." "Of course we know that the Supreme Commandant's retirement is a permanent vacation in some unmarked grave. They know that we know that. And now it's a question of what do we do, now that we know that and they know that we know that," he let out an exasperated sigh, "God, if it were anyone but Leiter in charge now, it would be so much easier to do deal with." "Leiter's never been impulsive. He's no more likely to pull an overt violation of the treaty than his predecessor was." "Except there's just one thing, Art," Maxwell turned around to look at him. "Leiter was the only one in the whole Alliance who knew from the beginning what the real story behind the end of the war was. The Supreme Commandant and the Politburo and everyone else thought we sprang a big surprise on them when they launched their missiles. But Leiter always knew otherwise. He knew it was our friends from the stars who did it, because he'd been their prisoner at one point. And he knows they've left and gone for good, so that means he knows we're not dealing from as big a position of strength as his predecessor thought we were." "We still have a largely intact arsenal, and they don't," Moore pointed out. "That's what ultimately keeps them in line." "With Leiter it won't work for much longer," Maxwell shook his head, "He's the one person on their side who'd be bold enough to dare us to use them, and even though I'm not naive like my predecessor, even I know the risks that are inherent in doing that." The Nationalist President sat down in his chair and warily lowered his head, elbows on the table so both hands could rub at his forehead, "They've called these last two yahrens a Golden Age in the history of Terra, Art, but if we haven't entered a sunset yet on it, we're at bare minimum in late afternoon. Leiter's going to make some preliminary move somewhere that won't be enough to disrupt the truce right away, but it will be enough to tell us that it's not going to last indefinitely." "And what will we have to do, Mr. President?" Maxwell shook his head without looking up, "I just don't know, Art." The Chief of Staff looked down at the President with a half-amused air. He'd served Maxwell's predecessor, whose naive determination to avoid war at all costs had led to near disaster. Despite his personal loyalty to David Arends, Moore had long been skeptical of Arends' tactics, which had included cover-up and even imprisonment and detention of his rivals like General Maxwell. That skepticism was why after the crisis had been resolved favorably for the Nationalists, thanks to the miraculous outside intervention that had descended on Terra that day, Moore had broken ranks with Arends and privately called for his resignation and for new elections to take place. The President had done so, and in the ensuing election, General Robert Maxwell had won in a massive landslide, aided in part by a pledge to retain the counsel of men like Art Moore in the spirit of bipartisanship. After nearly two years of serving Maxwell, it struck Moore that while the new President didn't share his predecessor's naivete about the Alliance, fundamentally the two weren't dissimilar as leaders when it came to public style. Now that he was a political leader instead of a general, Maxwell had to be more sensitive to the areas of public opinion, and he was also aware of his place in history. His predecessor had wanted desperately to be the man who brought peace to Terra. And Maxwell, he knew, desperately wanted to be the man who could keep the peace for Terra. Will he be able to? His meeting with the President finally came to an end. It was time for him to keep an early dinner appointment with his son at one of Lemuria's finest restaurants. "You understand what it is you are to do, Commander Suloff?" Leiter looked across at the rigid, attentive form of the uniformed man standing before him. "Yes, Excellence," Commander Suloff, destroyer group squadron leader said in his stiff, obliging way, "I am to dispose of an old Class-3 destroyer we are obligated to destroy under Treaty with the Nationalists by loading it with surplus weaponry also scheduled for destruction and setting it loose so that it will detonate on the planet Paradeen." "Very good, Suloff," Leiter nodded. "And to detonate over these specific coordinates. You know these coordinates, since you have been there before, just as I have." "Of course." "Now, I'm not interested in, nor do I want to see, the whole planet destroyed. Just this one section of it. It'll make a statement.....without being something the Nationalists can respond to because they won't be able to prove it was anything but.....an unfortunate accident. And it will only result in the loss of a few lives, but......important ones from our standpoint, as you can no doubt appreciate." "It is a brilliant strategy, Excellence," Suloff kept his eye forward and above. The Supreme Commandant rose from his chair. "You realize of course that I may be forced to subject you and your crew to some......public display of discipline if diplomacy warrants it. But rest assured, if such matters are required, they will be rectified at a later date." "I trust you completely, Excellence," Suloff bowed, "All that I can do in the name of the Alliance and the Natural Order.....I am prepared to do." "That's good to know," Leiter smiled. "Good luck in your mission, Commander." Suloff sharply saluted, clicked his heels and then turned and departed, marching out of Leiter's office at a regimented pace. Phase One was the execution of the imbecile, the Supreme Commandant sat down, And now for Phase Two! The young man of twenty-five had been seated on a bench in the Capitoline Park for more than twenty minutes. The large area of greenery that sat between the Presidium Colonnade on the North, and the Holy See on the South, was considered the buffer zone between the two most important offices in all of Nationalist Terra, that of the President and the Supreme Pontiff. It always seemed like the most dangerous place for the young man to have these meetings, but he'd been told it was because they were too obvious that made it the most practical. Finally, the person he was waiting for arrived. It was the strikingly beautiful blonde woman named Tricia. Ordinarily, he enjoyed her company, but today he wished one of the male contacts had come instead. Whenever it was Tricia, he wanted to do more than just sit here on a bench in the Capitoline Park and pass along pieces of information as he'd been doing for the last year. But on this day, he wanted to fight that urge back because he was more self-conscious about the danger of being found out than at any time he could remember. Not that there was anything specific to make him feel that. It was only an inner hunch. But nonetheless one that he felt strongly about. "And how was your dinner?" Tricia asked without looking at him as she settled down next to him on the bench. She unobtrusively took out a handheld reading device and began to go over it. "In terms of information, limited but illuminating," he said, "My father didn't go into too many specifics, but he kept returning to one basic fact that I think is more important than anything else he could have said." "And that is?" He took a breath, "It is as you suspected. President Maxwell is not anxious to utilize the Nationalist nuclear advantage in a direct confrontation." Tricia smiled faintly as she kept her eyes on the reading device. "Even the most gung-ho of Nationalist soldiers is too frightened of pushing things to the edge. That is to be expected of those who lack the discipline of the Natural Order." "There isn't much else I can add," the young man said. "As I said, my father didn't go into too many specifics. It all revolved around the general question of leadership." "That's all right," her voice was soothing and almost seductive, "Even when your information is little, it is of immense help. I assure you that when the day comes for the Natural Order to assert itself once again.....you will be rewarded even more than you have been already." Her tone was unnerving. He wanted to get up and run from her but if he did that it would only attract attention and that would make him feel more insecure. "Of late, I wonder if he thinks its too dangerous to confide in me," he said, "Once things get worse, he may no longer say anything of importance to me, and.......I would become useless to you and the Alliance." "Don't worry, Ronald," Tricia said gently. "We will never lose our appreciation for you," she then paused and again her voice became seductive, "*I* certainly will never lose *my* appreciation for you." And then, without waiting for him to say anything else, she rose and walked away from the park bench, leaving the only son of the President's chief of staff alone, and feeling relieved that she was gone. God help me that it's come to this. But I can't get out. I have to stay committed. "Dad?" the attractive blonde woman idly waved her hand across the dinner table. "Hmmm?" Maxwell looked up and into his daughter's concerned expression, "Oh.....sorry, Brenda. I've....got a lot on my mind." "I'm sure you do," Brenda Watts had never seen her father look this weary. The early months of his Presidency, where he clearly had enjoyed the challenge of the office, were now a distant memory. "Leiter's coming to power.....it's that bad?" "I'm afraid it is,"the Nationalist President sighed, "We could be in for some pretty rough times. It may end up with a full resumption of the war." "It just doesn't seem fair," she shook her head. "After we finally got a miracle.....why couldn't it last?" "Maybe it was just too good to be true, Brenda," Maxwell absently picked at his dinner, "Maybe the way......Apollo worked everything out was too good to be true for our civilization. After all......we're not on the same level he was, and we never will be." "I can't believe that," Brenda was stubborn. "It just seemed so.....divinely directed that Apollo came here with his people to help us. Why would we be abandoned now?" "I don't know," Maxwell shook his head, "Maybe things aren't divinely directed in the universe. I can never say that publicly, but....." "Don't say it privately to me, Dad," his daughter said quietly. "I have to believe there's a purpose to things. Just as much as I have to believe in you." He looked her in the eye and smiled wryly, "And Charlie?" She sighed and smiled at his disarming quality, "Yes, him too, no matter how much he can be infuriating." "But no regrets about marrying him? Even though he's so far away commanding the garrison on Lunar One?" "None." "I'm glad," Maxwell took a sip from his water glass, "I'm glad you've known some happiness, Brenda. I just wish it could have lasted." "Maybe it will," the stubborn edge returned to her voice, "Maybe we'll get another miracle again." "You mean Apollo coming back?" "Or something similar," Brenda Watts said. Maxwell reached over and squeezed his daughter's hand, "Baby, I hope you're right." Chapter Two For Ila, it had been another long day at the work station in her quarters meticulously translating the scientific data on the Kobollian communications transmitter that had been taken from the Weather Planet. For the last several sectans little else had occupied her time because she knew how important it was to get an exact translation from the Kobollian text and then give Dr. Arnoff something more specific to consult. The only reason why progress was so slow was because Ila's knowledge of Kobollian was more on the level of a teenager and that meant complex scientific equations and formulas in the original text were much harder for her to grapple with. Of late, she'd taken to moving past the harder roadblocks by ignoring the random words giving her a great deal of trouble. Then she would forward the incomplete document to Dr. Arnoff who would at least see enough translated to make some scientific speculations on what the missing terms could possibly be. Then the scientist would pass his suggestions back to Ila and often that would be the necessary jumpstart to figure out the correct word by having some potential choices to deal with. A chronometer chime on her table told her it was time for repast. She rubbed at her eyes and wondered if after all this time of staring intently at a computer screen filled with Kobollian text and symbols if she'd need a retinal shot. She knew all too well in the world of scholarship that had been her life for twenty-five yahrens that Academicians often needed to get them because of all the blurred vision and nearsightedness that could develop from reading texts. Ila herself had needed one at least twice in her life. They get the job done but Lords they're a pain, she finished rubbing her eyes. At least they helped make spectacles obsolete hundreds of yahrens ago. Ila shut down her computer terminal and rose from her chair. Cain would be expecting her for dinner in his quarters where they could talk of strategy and also of personal things, whether it be reminiscences of the old days, or speculations about their loved ones on the Galactica. They always got together two or three times each sectan and for both of them, it was the ability to bond as old friends and now as family that permitted such openness between them. And each time, both came away knowing how empty their lives would be without the other to fill the voids of close friendship and family that had existed in their lives for so long. If it had been anyone but Cain, would I have found the courage to stay for the sake of the Resistance? Ila thought, not for the first time, as she decided to change into something more elegant for dinner. If I were facing life aboard a ship commanded by a total stranger, would I have cracked and seized the opportunity I still have with the shuttle to go find Adama? Every time she asked that question, she always made herself come back to the same answer because she knew that fundamentally, it was the only answer if she really believed in the doctrines she professed to believe in so much. Everything in life happens for a reason, and there is a Divinely ordered plan to things no one can comprehend. That's why you were parted from Adama in the Destruction, and that's why you were led to Cain. No other scenario was ever going to happen, because all of this is the will of the Lords. Stop pondering scenarios you were never going to have to face. Easy to say that, because the doctrines spelled that out so clearly to her. What wasn't easy was letting the heart know and feel completely what the brain knew to be true. She selected the most elegant dress she owned, which like her "Councillor robe" style garment that she generally favored for staff meetings, she'd purchased on Brylon Station thanks to the credit line generosity of the Zykonians and the skilled services of the tailor/designer at the Har-Coutour kiosk. This one was a duplicate of her favorite stola. The off-the-shoulder one she'd been wearing the night of the Destruction when her friend Zakiya had unexpectedly invited her to a reception at the Astral Needle to celebrate the Peace that never was. And which she'd been wearing for many days afterwards when she'd been trapped with Zakiya and others in the underground shelter and freed only after the Exodus had taken place. Over time, because it hadn't been designed for the wear and tear of everyday living, especially in the conditions she'd found herself thrust in, the stola had become ruined. She'd thought of how losing what had been her favorite gown, and the one Adama had liked best had been the final symbolic end to her old life, and how from that time forward, her life was now defined by how it was as a refugee in hiding and later on, as a member of the Resistance on Caprica. Because of the symbolism and the memories that went with it, that's why she'd taken advantage of a chance to duplicate the stola when the Brylon visit gave her one. She knew it made her look her most attractive, but she wasn't interested in whatever effect it had on anyone else. She wanted to wear it strictly to please herself. Besides, she knew that with Cain, she never had a thing to worry about as far as a wrong impression or an untoward advance was concerned. Their deep ties of friendship that went back so many yahrens with both Cain and Adama, and her with Bethany were more than enough to make the tiniest thought of that unseemly and something they were both immunized from. Knowing that they were now tied to each other as kin through the marriage of Apollo and Sheba wasn't necessary to permanently cement their relationship as 100% platonic, rooted in the need for friendship and camaraderie. That's another reason I suppose why the Lords made sure I'd be with Cain from now on, Ila thought as she slipped into her stola. So I know I'd feel secure in my heart that I'd never face any temptations.......like I already did on Caprica these last few yahrens. Oh Lords how difficult those centons were...... A brief flash of a face appeared in her mind. The face of the one who'd been the biggest temptation to her.......and she could also hear his voice, pleading with her not to take the shuttle to go after in search of Adama. "Ila......you can't throw the rest of your life away on a theory. The Resistance needs you here......and *I* need you here." She could remember praying to the Lords with all her strength as she heard his voice. Telling her to stay, but all the while she could tell he was pleading with her more for himself and not for the Resistance, since the Resistance leaders like Commander Deval were all in favor of her being the one to seek out the Galactica. Finally, she'd found the nerve to look him in the eye. "Antony.....what I'm doing is as much for the Resistance as it is for myself. I'm the only one who has the slightest chance of convincing Adama we need him and the Galactica to come back." And then......she'd made the other blunt point. "And even if I didn't go, it wouldn't make a difference. Adama is alive and he's my husband. I know in my heart he's been true to me as I've been to him.....and always will be." The handsome man named Antony she'd worked alongside with many times in the last two yahrens had never tried to tempt her or dissuade her again. But......when she returned one day to the Colonies with Cain and the Pegasus would he try to resume his pursuit of her? Would he then be arguing how her decision to ultimately not use the shuttle to rejoin the Galactica effectively freed her from any obligation to Adama? Let me not have to deal with that question, Ila thought as she finished adjusting her stola and stepped out into the corridor for the walk to Cain's quarters. At the very least......we're a long ways off from it becoming an issue again. "How goes the translation work?" Cain asked her later as they settled down for dinner. He'd complimented Ila on how lovely she looked and she reciprocated by noting how his uniform looked impeccable. And both of them knew they hadn't a thing to worry about it going further than that. "Tiring, but we're making good headway," Ila sipped from her chalice, which was filled with a Zykonian brand of mock ambrosia, reported to be lower in normal alcoholic content. Having gone without genuine ambrosia for so long, she found she didn't mind the taste in the least. "The earliest indications are that in order to properly use this kind of transmitter, it requires an extensive amount of power generation." "That ties in with Dr. Arnoff's theories about the Cylon breakthrough that he's picked up from the Lucifer memory banks," Cain noted. "Massive levels of power to transmit and receive. It makes you wonder if the Cylons found examples of Kobollian technology to set up what they have on Gomorrah." "It wouldn't surprise me if they found something on a planet somewhere and adapted it for their purposes, or......they could have gotten it right on Kobol itself. We know Adama visited the home world and the Cylons did follow him in there," she then looked downward, "That was where Apollo's first wife died." "You mentioned that to me a few sectans ago," Cain noted after he'd wiped his mouth, "Honestly, Ila, I had no idea Apollo had been married and was raising a son. It just never came up during that time I was there." "I'm not surprised, Cain. I know it was a hectic time. I like to think the Lords made it possible for me to know through Kelli, and that when the day comes when we make contact......I won't have to waste time dealing with unexpected surprises." "It seems like everything we've gone through since we got......transported out of charted space revealed all the major things about our loved ones and what they've done," Cain admitted. "Not to mention all the other things that will help us with the Resistance," Ila added. "Yes. And the fact that we still haven't been transported back to where we started by......the forces that were responsible for moving us, can only mean we're not through finding things in these places we never would have visited." "I think you're right," Ila nodded, "If we had exhausted everything there was beyond the Gomorrah quadrant, they would have probably done just that. So that means something of benefit to us will come from this......Terran system." Cain smiled, "I'm glad you put it so optimistically. That something *will* come to us and not *should* come to us." "I have to be," the professor said, "It keeps me going." The Juggernaut helped himself to more of his dinner before saying anything else. "Before you arrived, Ila," he said, "Optimism didn't define this ship. We......did our jobs. The crew did as they were told. They understood we were trying to prepare ourselves for a major battle in the future......but there was no optimism for the long-haul, because whether you accepted my vision, or were a grumbler......they knew in their minds the end result wasn't going to go well. It was just a matter of how much damage would we inflict on the Cylons as we went down trying. Your coming, Ila......you put optimism back in all of us that the future didn't have to be defined that way. We'll always be grateful to you for that." "I'm flattered," Ila put her hands under her chin and smiled, "But in all honesty, Cain.....all you had to do was get close enough to the Colonies and you would have eventually learned all about the Resistance and how much its grown." "But I probably wouldn't have acted on that information wisely," the Juggernaut smiled back. "As you've said......the Resistance is a team effort, and I would have been like the proverbial wild bovine in a kiosk that sells Gemonese glassware. Thanks to you......I'll be prepared when the time comes." As Ila took another sip of her near-ambrosia, Cain then added, "And......I know what kind of a personal sacrifice all this has been for you, Ila, and......I always want you to know that if there ever comes a time when you want to make use of the shuttle......I'd never stand in your way." Adama's wife kept her chalice up, seemingly taking a deeper swig of the contents so she could delay responding to Cain's comment. When she finally set her chalice down, she stalled another micron by carefully wiping the edge of her mouth. "I've said it before, Cain," she said simply as she avoided looking at him, "I'm glad the option is there in the unlikely event I think circumstances change dramatically.......but I honestly don't see that happening. And I accept that. It's the Lords' will. And that's what I have to follow." She then looked up at him, "At this point.....all I want is the chance to talk to them, just as I know you want that chance too." "I do," Cain said, feeling no limit of admiration for her courage. "And I know we'll make that happen, Ila. I.....have faith in you." Ila smiled crookedly, "Don't forget Dr. Arnoff. And we can't leave out our four Cylon friends who are doing their part as his full-time staff." Cain realized she'd thrown him an opportunity to change the subject from the deeply personal and he knew he had to respect her by grabbing it. "Yes, the good Doctor was a total one-man operation for two and a half yahrens before those four Cylons fell into our hands unexpectedly. I'm glad they've learned to fit in." "Those new voices of theirs really help," Ila returned to her meal. "It's too bad these weren't centurions who'd been actively serving at the time they defected. They might have had some insights into the principles the High Command developed with their communications breakthrough. But because they'd been dormant for twelve yahrens in that abandoned depot on.....what was the name of that planet?" "Delta Aquinas." "Right. Well anyway, their own memory banks unfortunately don't have anything that tie into a specific communications project because the High Command didn't start developing that until after they were shut down. What Dr. Arnoff hopes they can contribute is some greater insight into what we glean from the Lucifer memory banks regarding the project." "Didn't the initial report indicate Lucifer was unaware of how the project operated and just knew how to operate the transmitter/receiver on his baseship?" Cain finished off his own chalice of near-ambrosia. "The initial report, yes. But Dr. Arnoff thinks that if he keeps digging deeper into the data, he might find some hidden knowledge of the system. These second brain Cylons with their deep memory banks could *really* absorb and store a lot of information so they could choose to "forget" about it unless it was absolutely necessary. That's why after more than two sectars since we left Brylon Station, we've still barely scratched the surface of what his memory has to offer." Cain idly rolled his now empty chalice back and forth, "That's enough to make you wonder if we made a mistake letting the Zykonians keep Lucifer's body parts." Ila shrugged, "I don't think we had any choice diplomatically. We had to give them something specific to make sure we got all of the other things we wanted back from them. Don't forget that in addition to studying the Kobollian and Cylon transmission capabilities, Dr. Arnoff is also having his team of Cylon helpers try to get a handle on the Zykonian formulas for cloaking and teleportation." "Ah yes. If either of those can be made ready in some way before we eventually reach Gomorrah, that will be a big help to us," the commander smiled. "But my own preference is that we first crack the secret of how to use the transmitter and if we can do it without burning up our power generators in the process. That seems to be the big sticking point." "Yes," Ila nodded, "And don't forget one other thing. Even if we develop the means to transmit, we'd still have to hope that the Fleet's figured out the wisdom of keeping the transmitter/receiver on Lucifer's old baseship active." "You mean Baltar's current baseship," Cain gently corrected. "So I do," she sighed, "Are you used to that idea?" "I have to be," his tone grew wry, "After all, the President of the Council of Twelve has agreed to it. If he were to find I disapprove, the first thing he might do when we make contact is to tell me I'm relieved of my command." Adama's wife let out a hearty laugh, "*That* deserves a refill, Commander Cain." She poured some more of the near-ambrosia into their chalices. When she was finished she then said with a wry edge of her own, "I sincerely hope he wouldn't then tell me it was my wifely duty to assume command." "Ha!" Cain laughed and raised his chalice to hers and they clinked together. So much were they enjoying the conversation and the camaraderie of friendship and family ties between them, that when Cain heard the intercom chime, it was only with a great deal of resignation that he got up to answer it. "Yes, Tolen?" "Commander, we've just entered patrol range of the Paradeen system. We're launching four vipers to go out and scan ahead to see if its clear of any combat activity and what the current situation is on the planet." "Captain Skyler leading the patrol?" "Yes sir. As per your orders." "Thank you," he shut the intercom off and returned to the dining table to enjoy the rest of his dinner and conversation with Ila. "Well, that was quick of him," Major Ham dryly noted as Tolen rejoined him on the upper level of the Bridge in front of the navigation board. The Executive Officer smiled, "Whenever it's dinner with the Professor.....he doesn't like to be distracted too long." "Silver Spar Group away, Colonel," Kylie reported. "Thank you, Kylie," Tolen acknowledged and looked back at the navigation board. "They should probably on normal thrusters reach the system in about......four centars." "Four vipers is kind of bigger than usual for these patrols, what with the fuel ration standards," Ham said. "Yes, but it's different this time, Major," Tolen had his eye on the corner. "With the Ziklagi and the Risiks, Cain was anxious to avoid fighting. With this.....Eastern Alliance group, he's willing to take a bigger risk. Especially if there's any military presence in that sector. Four vipers would be a better demonstration of force than just one if that happens." "Silver Spar Leader to Silver Group," Skyler radioed. "Sound check." "Silver Two here," Lieutenant Angus said. "Silver Three here," this from Ensign Tegran. "Silver Four here," Sergeant Marshak chimed in. "All right, it's been awhile since we had this big a patrol group, so settle into four wing formation. And make sure you consult that crude sketch of an Alliance destroyer our Galactica refugee friends provided us, for the log book. It's the only frame of reference we've got for what one of these Eastern Alliance vessels look like." "If we see one, Captain, then do we try to make contact?" Angus asked. "Negative, Silver Two. We try to get a handle on what they're up to. If they're just going about and minding their own business, we stay clear. But if this war was supposedly settled on favorable terms to the good guys, then anything from the Alliance shouldn't be operating close to this outer colony called Paradeen." "But there's a risk they could be hostile," Marshak noted. "Which is why four of us makes better sense," Silver Spar Leader said. "Speaking as one with recent experience in this kind of matter, I wholeheartedly approve of having extra reinforcement at the ready!" Tegran said with a dry air. "Yeah, that's right, Tegran, you're the one who got to ride inside an alien ship!" Angus quipped, "Must have been thrilling!" "If these Alliance people want to abduct one of us, I demand on going to the back of the line!" Tegran increased the dry sarcasm. For the next several centars the banter among pilots continued though Skyler, as Squadron Leader participated the least. Operating from the forward position, he would be the first to notice anything out of the ordinary and it would be his responsibility to give commands quickly and efficiently. So he largely kept silent while the other three pilots talked about topics ranging from their increasingly positive views of the four Cylon defectors; to the quality of the maize harvested from the Weather Planet; to discussing the most recent off-duty Pyramid game among the pilots where the stakes involved some of the luxuries they'd picked up on Brylon Station. There was also discussion over the impact the presence of Ila had made on the Pegasus. "I'll tell you, the whole atmosphere of the ship really changed when she showed up," Tegran said. "But how much of that is just the news she brought about the situation back home we were unaware of?" Angus interjected. "I agree it starts with that," the ensign admitted. "But I got to work with her on the Weather Planet before those ugly Risiks took me for a ride. Her dedication is tremendous. And its great to see someone here that Cain regards on an equal footing." "That he does," Angus conceded. "And the amazing thing is no one even thinks something else is going on between them." "Oh, I've run across one or two who think it," Sergeant Marshak said. "They actually wanted to start a betting pool on how long it would take before it became obvious there was something going on. I told them to stow that felgercarb if they knew what was good for them." "Bravo, Sergeant," Skyler broke his silence with a dry interjection. "If I'd heard anything like that, I'd have put them on report." "And I would have wholeheartedly agreed with you, sir," Tegran said. "Likewise," Angus added. "We don't need any of that kind of felgercarb going around." "Now if it was a pool on who summons the nerve to ask Kylie out for a quiet stroll down the empty service access passageway......" Marshak went on. "I'd put a couple cubits in on that!" Angus quipped.. A beeping sound from Skyler's instrument panel got his attention, "All right group, can the chatter. I've got a contact showing ahead of us in Sygma section three.....on course trajectory toward Paradeen." "I've got it too, Captain," Angus was now all business. "The size.....could match an Alliance ship based on the description." "Cut in to minimal speed," the Squadron Leader ordered. "I don't want us to come up too fast on that. I want us to be able to hold back and take a scan so they're not fully aware of us." The four vipers slowed down with Skyler still in the lead. At the far end of his vision, Silver Spar Leader was beginning to make out the object. Tentatively, he hit his log book to cross check the handwritten sketch of an Alliance destroyer given by Wallis and Kelli. "Well.....that looks pretty close. Length is right. Contours are right. Chances of it being Alliance look good." "Captain," Tegran said, "My scan's not showing any signs of life aboard." "Mine neither," Marshak chimed in. "I make it unanimous, sir," Angus said. Skyler checked his readings and frowned. "Well now that's odd. The reports we had said that a ship like this requires about a half dozen to a dozen crew. Any signs of life that could be in suspended animation or stasis?" "None, sir," Angus was taking the initiative as deputy patrol leader. "That craft is empty of sentient life." "Then it's on some kind of automatic power or heading. It couldn't have been just abandoned and cut loose to drift, it's definitely moving under power," things were growing more mysterious for Skyler. "Let's move in a little closer." The four vipers picked up some speed again to draw closer to the space craft. It was fifteen meters long with a shape that reminded Skyler of a gloomy bird of prey. The round, circular tip suggesting a head, the narrow section behind a neck and then slowly growing wider and wider in the main body with short wings that suggested a capability to fly through a planetary atmosphere with little difficulty. "All right, let's assume position on each side of her. Tegran, stay with me to starboard, Angus you and Marshak to port. I want the most thorough scan possible of this craft and see if we can figure out any kind of anomaly in her because if this Eastern Alliance is as thorough and professional as their reputation indicates they are, I just can't imagine them leaving what has to be a top flight warship of theirs abandoned." "Power emissions seem.....normal," Angus reported. "Of course we don't have any frame of reference for what their normal power and speed levels would be. Engines are nuclear powered.....they don't appear to have turbo-speed or FTL capability." "Well that isn't too surprising," Skyler said. "The maps that show the relationship of Paradeen to the Terra System indicates that if this is the outermost settlement they reached, they definitely don't have true interstellar capability." "Current speed of this craft, Captain, would indicate it'll be over Paradeen in about thirty centons or so," this from Tegran. "That might indicate it was programmed to head there." "Programmed," Skyler mused. "But Paradeen isn't a planet the Alliance would be occupying, wouldn't it?" "That's not how I remember the briefing, sir," Marshak said. "The Alliance apparently did destroy a major settlement on Paradeen but didn't occupy the planet. Supposedly after the war ended on favorable terms for the other side, the Alliance wouldn't have moved back in here." "So that wouldn't indicate that this is some unmanned craft returning to a military base on Paradeen." Skyler shook his head, "Curiouser and curiouser." "What do we do, Captain?" Angus asked. Skyler allowed himself to ponder the question for just one micron. "We're out of communication range with the Pegasus, so.....for now let's follow this thing for a bit and see what it does." "What if it fires at us?" Tegran asked. "There's nobody in there to fire at us, Tegran," Marshak jumped in. "There's always automated defense systems," the ensign held his ground. "Fair point, fair point," Skyler cut in to prevent an argument from erupting. "Let's keep within visual and just a little bit back enough to take evasive action if we have to. Meantime, keep scanning the innards of it. Maybe something else will pop up that'll indicate what it's doing." "Affirmative that," Angus said, "Marshak, drop in behind me." "Aye, sir." For the next several centons silence took over as the four vipers maintained their positions and continued to take readings on the mysterious spacecraft. Not capable of being classified a derelict since there seemed to be some programmed intelligence dictating its path toward the approaching planet called Paradeen. "Captain?" Angus radioed. "Yeah, Angus." "I'm noticing something a little weird regarding its engine output. Temperature of its reactor is going up. It's a lot hotter than it was a few centons ago." Skyler looked at his readout, "Yeah.....Yeah that's not right. If that stays that way, that's liable to overload!" "And something else the scanner's picking up," Tegran added, "The armament in this thing indicates three missiles of nuclear ballistic variety......laced with chemical composition similar to.....pluton!" "Whoa, this thing is one lethal time bomb," the Squadron Leader was growing concerned. "If that thing has engines overheating to meltdown levels and three missiles, that has some serious destructive potential if it ends up in the planet's atmosphere." "If that's the case, Captain, then what do we do?" Marshak asked pointedly. "The Pegasus is still out of range." Skyler slowly exhaled. He was likely going to be forced to make the first critical command decision of his life, totally on his own initiative and judgment. "All right, here's what we do," he said finally. "Let's keep following it and monitor those readings......and if that sucker shows the slightest sign of going into a de-orbital re-entry......then we're going to do something about it. If it lets loose before it reaches the planet or even in high orbit, it can't cause any damage and we won't have to act." "Why not take care of it now before it reaches the planet?" Tegran asked, not wanting to sound negative even though he wasn't sure he liked what he'd just heard. "Because once we take action against that thing, we commit ourselves *and* the Pegasus to military action against the Alliance in general, and I want Cain to know that we waited to the last possible micron to realize that opening fire on this thing was necessary." And that, Ensign, he added to himself, is what being a Squadron Leader entails. Knowing when you have to practice diplomatic skills as well because you have the command responsibility. When no response came from Tegran, Angus jumped in, "Understood, Captain." Thank you, Angus, Skyler thought. He could understand Tegran's more impulsive nature given what the Ensign had gone through on the Weather Planet, but he was totally convinced that if he opened fire right away, Cain would read him the riot act. "All right, from this point on, no more idle chatter. Just give me any new readings of interest your scans pick up. Engine temperature, reactor stability, explosive firepower, trajectory heading.....and of course any sign of communications coming from there. This thing could be tracked by something that's outside our immediate scanning range." The four viper pilots went silent, as they kept one eye on the seemingly abandoned destroyer, the other on their instrument readouts. As Skyler glanced back and forth, his peripheral vision began to notice the looming mass that he knew was the planet Paradeen becoming larger. "Eight centons to orbital insertion," Angus broke the silence. "Reactor temperature still rising. Based on rate of acceleration......critical mass likely to be reached in......thirteen centons." "That has to mean it's set to go off over some specific target on the planet!" Tegran felt his anxiousness to take immediate action rising. "Tegran," Skyler said calmly, but with the authority befitting his position as Squadron Leader clear, "I want you to go ahead of us to the planet and scan the location where this thing will go off if it maintains its current heading and where it's likely to go into de-orbital burn." The ensign immediately knew that he was getting the instruction because Skyler was concerned he might demonstrate an itchy trigger finger. Knowing if he protested he'd lose anyway, he swallowed his irritation and managed to get out a, "Yes, sir!" before he went to his turbo and raced ahead of the other three vipers and the empty Alliance spacecraft. I'd never question his courage after what he went through, but he's got a ways to go before he can ever be in a command position. "What does it all mean, Captain?" Marshak asked. "If they want to take some target out on the planet, why do it this way?" "I'm beginning to form a theory about that, Marshak," the captain said, "As soon as I get word from Tegran, I'll find out if I'm right." "Five centons to orbital insertion," Angus reported. "Reactor overload.....ten centons." "Captain," Tegran radioed from his position further ahead, "Just conducted scan of the planet. Population is very minimal, maybe no more than a dozen life forms. Seems to be concentrated in one zone to the south of what could well be an abandoned city. And..... based on the trajectory of that craft, I would say that it's been programmed to go off right smack over this one population zone of the planet." "Well, well, well," Skyler said with an edge of satisfaction, "My theory is borne out. Tegran, get back here and assume position. We're going to bring this ship's mission to a premature end." "Returning to formation." It took another two centons for Tegran's viper to rejoin the formation. The planetary mass of Paradeen was now much closer and filled their field of vision. "All right, I'm going to take lead position and we're going to hit this thing from above with full power lasers and we're going to make sure it goes up before achieving orbital insertion," Skyler said. "When we're done, we take one orbital pass of the planet for full scan data, and then we head for home. Begin attack run......now!" The four vipers rolled out of their escort formation around the empty Alliance Destroyer and moved up with Skyler in lead position. Silver Spar Leader switched on his attack computer which now showed the destroyer. He saw it begin to blink. And then, he opened fire. Microns later, the other three in the group were doing likewise. As they pulled out of their attack formation firing and u-turned toward the planet, the Alliance Destroyer went up in a giant fireball that dissipated as quickly as it erupted. The night cycle had just begun on Paradeen. Not yet late enough for the tiny enclave of people that lived on the planet to go to sleep but late enough to shut down their work activities for the night. The evening sky was now filled with the stars lending a brilliant clarity for anyone who might choose to look up. At the back end of a small patch of well-attended farmland, two robot servants, one older than the other, were checking the monitoring systems. "Perfect working order, Vector!" the younger one said in his exuberant high pitched tone. "It better be, Hector," the older one said in his tone that wasn't quite as high. "Last time, you forgot to check the irrigation levels!" "But that wasn't my fault! Master Michael said that we had an unattended short circuit in the master system!" "And that *was* your fault! Oh, when will you ever finally show the promise I saw when I first built you??" Just as Vector was about to reach over to rap his metallic fist against the metallic head of Hector, the younger robot abruptly let out a startled gasp, "Oh my goodness, look!" Vector looked up. The clearness of the night sky revealed a blinding flash of light, that almost suggested a streak of heavy lightning. "Now what could that have been?" Vector said aloud. "We're not supposed to have any storms. Unless your infernal weather detectors are on the blink!" Just then a motorized cart drove up alongside the roadway path that ran parallel to the farmland. A silver suited man with brown hair promptly got off and came up to the two robot workers. "Did you see that?" "Yes, Master Michael, we did!" Vector said. "We have no idea what it could mean!" "Must have been an explosion of some kind," Michael looked up and could still traces of the explosion shooting across the sky like the last dying embers of flame. "But.....it would have to have been something big like a......satellite or maybe even a ship!" "My goodness," Hector said, "If that were true----," Before they could say anything else, something new in the night sky got their attention. Several visible streaks moving at rapid speed above them.......and low enough in the atmosphere to give off a whooshing sound. "What in the name of Terra.....?" Michael's mouth fell open as he saw what now looked to be four of them. And they were low enough in the atmosphere and distinct enough to get a general sense of the shape of them. While the speed gave Michael little time to make details out with clarity, the chord of recognition was immediate in the silver-suited man. "If I didn't know any better," he said as the four objects then abruptly went high up into the sky once again and rapidly faded out to tiny points of light, "I'd swear that those things reminded me of---," "Apollo and Starbuck!" Hector exclaimed. "Like their ships!" "Yes!" Vector chimed in. "I am reminded of them too!" Michael shook off his stunned surprise as he realized he needed to take some initiative. "Vector, I want you to take your hovermobile over to Josh Moreland's and let him know what we saw. Have him come back here if he can do it." "Yes, Master Michael! I'll see to it!" The older robot made his way over to his own vehicle that had taken him and Hector from the main house. "Do you think they've come back to visit us, Master Michael?" Hector asked as Vector's vehicle started up and drove off. "I don't know, Hector," Michael was looking up at the night sky but the four streaks were no longer visible. "But maybe we'll find out soon." "Did all of you get final telemetry scans of the inhabited area?" Skyler radioed as the four vipers pulled clear of Paradeen's atmosphere. "All safe and secure, Captain," Marshak said. "Likewise," Angus chimed. "All right. Let's head for home and be prepared to give Cain a pretty intense briefing on what happened. And let's hope that these Alliance goons don't figure things out too quickly." Much further away from Paradeen and the four vipers, Alliance Destroyer Nine under Commander Suloff's command was discreetly taking a course back to its base on Lunar One. Under the terms of the existing treaty between the Nationalists and the Alliance this was the only one of the Lunar colonies that the Alliance was allowed to maintain a base on since it was the closest in proximity to Terra and thus easier to monitor. "Commander Suloff?" "Yes, Sturber?" "Our tracking signal from Destroyer Three has gone out." Suloff made his way over to Sturber's station where he was monitoring telemetry. "Don't you mean you've confirmed detonation over Paradeen?" "I'm.....not sure, Commander," Sturber hesitated. "We were close to the programmed time for detonation based on our calculations, but......they seem to be off by as much as eight or nine minutes." Suloff frowned, "Does that make a difference?" "It may, Commander," Sturber uneasily turned around to face him. "Destruction over the intended coordinates may not have taken place. If so, then our mission would have failed!" An uneasy look came over the commander's face. He moved over to the navigation and helm station. "How long would it take us to reach Paradeen?" "A minimum of 36 hours, Commander!" Baskin, the navigator/helmsman protested. "We needed to keep our distance to make sure we could plausibly deny our presence in the vicinity!" "I am aware of that!" he raised his voice. "But I need confirmation! Turn us around and set course for Paradeen immediately!" "I felt it was necessary to take action, Commander," Skyler was giving his report on what happened in Cain's office. "Otherwise, that Alliance Destroyer would have detonated right above the one spot on Paradeen that's still inhabited according to our telemetry." "I agree with your course of action, Captain Skyler," Cain nodded. "It looks as if this was some type of covert action the Alliance was doing if they weren't going in with a fully manned ship." "And there clearly isn't some kind of security defense force set up on the planet. Probably because there are so few people down there." "Yeah, and I suppose if those crafts of theirs can't achieve true faster than light capability, then it would explain why the population still hasn't grown these last two yahrens," Cain said, "Thanks for your report, Skyler." "Sir," he saluted respectfully and departed leaving Cain alone with Tolen. The commander switched on the telemetry recording once again which showed in greater detail the scan that had been taken of the inhabited portion of the planet. "Looks like no more than two agro-communities situated south of the wrecked city, which still has trace indications of some kind of radon or pluton poisoning. Population.....no more than a dozen in that area." "Could well be the same people the Galactica are acquainted with," Tolen pointed out. "Very likely," Cain nodded. "That's probably a fortunate break for us. It simplifies our ability to connect with someone who can give us more of the story about the whole Terran situation." "Which would require sending someone who can fill the role of a.....diplomatic envoy, wouldn't it?" the emphasis in Tolen's voice made it obvious who he had in mind. Cain smiled and brought his hands together. "Lords of Kobol, I feel like I'm going to wear her into the ground with everything else she's done," he reached over for the intercom and then pulled his hand back, "No, let me give her a few centars sleep before I tell her and we're closer to Paradeen." "Who else accompanies her?" "Let the computer decide that," Cain said, "But keep Lieutenant Bryce out of it. I'm not too happy with how he conducted himself on the Weather Planet mission. This will have a more chastening effect on him if I keep him off this assignment then if I'd read him the riot act." "Yes sir," he started to head out and then stopped and turned back, "What about one of the centurions for this?" "We probably should send one," he mused, "If we have to bring the Nationalists up to speed on the nature of our fight with the Cylons, better we have a defector tag along to explain the current situation." "Commander Cobre?" "Yeah, if he wants to get a break from Dr. Arnoff's lab." He leaned back, "I want the shuttle away with viper escort to stand by in orbit to go at 0800 tomorrow." "Yes, sir." "We are twenty-four hours out from Paradeen, Commander," Baskin reported. Suloff kept pacing back and forth, filled with an air of anxious tension. He'd been unable to get any sleep. The new Supreme Commandant had placed so much faith in him to do a simple task. The first task in the Alliance's road back to greatness. If something had gone wrong......all he could do was envision himself ending up exactly like the last Supreme Commandant had. "Commander!" this from Sturber. "Something new coming in on telemetry! Definite communications signals.....not on the normal band." "Can you give me visual telemetry?" Suloff anxiously came up to him. "I think so, sir.......There!" The fuzzy image on their monitor revealed a sight none of them were prepared for. A ship larger and greater than anything their eyes had beheld in their lives. But it was a sight that Suloff recognized for he had once served under Commandant Leiter.....and he had in fact been aboard a ship just like that. "Impossible," Suloff whispered. "Simply impossible. How close is that to Paradeen?" "Much closer, Commander! They will be there far ahead of us at their present speed." "Helm, turn us about!" the commander barked. "We're proceeding back to Lunar One at top speed!" "But Commander!" Sturber protested. "We still lack confirmation of the success of our mission!" Suloff glared at him. "It should be obvious that our mission has failed, Sturber. But I have no intention of letting the Supreme Commandant place the blame on us! And he *won't* when he hears of this!" "Major Ham?" "Yes, Kylie?" the senior Bridge Officer came over to her station. "We had a brief contact in Zeta section four, but......it's gone now." "How long was it there?" he frowned. "Only a centon or so, and then it just reversed direction. Speed was sub-light." "Where would its course take them?" Kylie made some adjustments to her charts, "Best assumption it was from the direction of the Lunar colonies fanning out from Terra." She looked up at him, "It might have been the ship responsible for cutting loose that empty Destroyer our patrol had to destroy." "That would be a good guess, Kylie," Ham nodded. "Let's see if the Commander wants us to investigate further." Cain was already in bed when the call came down from the bridge with the report. After listening to Ham's explanation, he made his judgment quickly. "No, don't launch a patrol to follow them back. The only thing we could do is engage without provocation, and if we did that, we might screw up the existing diplomatic relationship between the Nationalists and the Alliance. If that's destined to collapse it's not going to be because we forced the issue." "They may have had enough time to take a scan of us, Commander." "Let them. Sooner or later, they're going to have to deal with our presence in the region. Besides, they'll have to figure out that we've already stopped what they were planning to do on Paradeen and that might give them pause over any other moves they're planning on closer to Terra." he paused, "But do this at least. Increase speed so we get to Paradeen sooner and that way we can just launch a shuttle tomorrow and dispense with the viper escort." "All right, sir." "Thanks for the report, Ham." Cain shut off the intercom and the light but he found that sleep didn't overtake him immediately. Instead, his mind was obsessed by the thought of how this whole Terra situation was going to resolve itself. For their people and his. Right now, no clear answers suggested themselves. Thank God I have you to send down there tomorrow, Ila, he thought. I know I wouldn't be able to handle the diplomatic responsibility. And then, feeling more relaxed, sleep finally came to the Juggernaut. Chapter Three The restful sleep enjoyed by the regular shift crew of the Pegasus was not shared on Paradeen by the human inhabitants that remained. For Michael, it had been particularly restless. Vector had returned from Josh Moreland's ranch to tell him that Moreland wasn't ready to talk about the matter until tomorrow. And then, when Michael had returned to the main house, he'd found himself caught up in another quarrel with Sarah. Just one of many they'd had in recent months that had long since taken the bloom off the time of happiness they'd felt in the first yahren together on Paradeen. He couldn't understand where it had gone wrong. Their shared experience of survival had seemingly bonded them to each other for life. The escape from Lunar Seven, followed by that unexpected but fortuitous detour that had taken them to a ship called the Battlestar Galactica, and then the arrival on Paradeen where the help of Apollo, Starbuck and Cassiopeia had allowed them to repel a would-be slaughter at the hands of the Alliance Destroyer commanded by Commandant Leiter. All of that had allowed the feelings they'd carried for each other inside, kept submerged by the quarreling they'd had because of their different backgrounds, to come out into the open. The first yahren afterwards had been as close to perfect as it could have been. The sense that the Alliance danger was gone forever, coupled with the news that had come through that a favorable truce for the Nationalists had been reached. Ten more families, in addition to the Morelands had come out of hiding and it seemed possible that Paradeen could begin the journey back to becoming a thriving outer colony of Terran civilization once again. And more importantly, he and Sarah had felt happy together. The two of them now married and their combined family of three children from their previous marriages. But then the supply freighter from Lunar Seven, now back in Nationalist hands after being ceded from the Alliance under treaty terms, had brought the first piece of bad news. The Nationalist government under the new administration of President Maxwell, did not think it practical to resume full-scale settlement of Paradeen, preferring to instead concentrate on the reclamation of lands ceded by the Alliance on Lunar Seven and Lunar Six. Supply ships would still continue to Paradeen three times annually, but in effect the Colony would have to fend for itself. Theoretically, with the Alliance threat removed, this would not present a great obstacle. The news had been a blow to Michael and Sarah, who had envisioned more families returning and a community on Paradeen flourishing. Instead, five of the remaining families that had been in hiding from the Alliance had decided to leave and take advantage of new settlement opportunities on Lunar Seven. Within six months, only the Morelands were left alongside of Michael and Sarah's farm. They had enough to prosper, but the increased sense of isolation chafed at Michael, who had started out as a techno-crat. He wanted to help in the reclamation of a planet and eventually the reclamation of the ruined capitol city to the north. If that option wasn't there any longer, then his instinct was to pull out as well and return to Lunar Seven. On that point, Sarah was adamantly opposed. She wanted no part of the planet they had worked on in slave labor for the Alliance and was concerned that returning in closer proximity to Terra carried with it, the danger of being reintroduced to the war one day. Michael saw the decision to abandon Paradeen as prudent retrenchment in a new universal order. Sarah saw it as a sign that war would come again and that they needed to stay far away from it. And so, their marriage had begun to deteriorate. Keeping up facades for the children and for keeping their land in order, but Michael knew it was getting worse. Soon, Sarah had begun comparing him unfavorably with the likes of Apollo again, and that too had stung. The incredible sights in the night sky last evening had only made things worse from Michael's standpoint. The likely odds of what he and Vector and Hector had seen pointed to some kind of threat to Paradeen destroyed by returning Colonial fighters. It didn't necessarily have to be a threat from the Alliance. It could easily have been the enemies of the Colonials, the so-called Cylons. Regardless it meant that Paradeen was once again vulnerable. And it also meant a possibility that......Apollo had returned. It wasn't that he had any thought that Apollo might return to drive a wedge between him and Sarah. Apollo had made it clear to him that he'd had no interest in Sarah, and that only Sarah's prejudice against Michael's former occupation of techno-crat had made her submerge her own feelings for Michael. But if Apollo was back.....Michael knew that it would make Sarah size him, and the state of their marriage in even more unfavorable terms. She might never be able to have Apollo for herself, but he could easily envision her going, "Why can't you be more like Apollo?" more than ever. A half hour before sunrise, he finally decided it was futile to try to sleep and he preferred to be out of bed before Sarah and the children were up. He got out of bed, dressed himself and promptly took his cart out to the relay station where Vector and Hector were back at work. "I have good news, Master Michael!" Vector said proudly. "All systems are running smoothly again!" "Thanks Vector, good job." Michael tried to keep from sounding down since it would only make the two robots more inquisitive than he wanted them to be. "You should go back to the house and start fixing breakfast for Sarah and the children. Take the cart. I'm going to go over to Josh Moreland's in the hovermobile and try and talk some sense into him." "In that case, you should take Hector with you! I will go back and fix breakfast." "This is my day to fix breakfast!" the younger robot protested. "I have a new recipe to try out!" "The last recipe you tried ended up on the ceiling and made us waste four hours cleaning the mess up!" Vector snapped. "Your cooking is more destructive than an Alliance Destroyer!" "And that's *your* fault for not giving me a better brain than your own!" "All right fellows, all right," he said gently. On most days the comic barbs the two robots hurled at each other could put a smile on Michael's face and also the children. Not so this time. "Why don't you both go back and let me handle Josh Moreland. That way Vector, you can supervise Hector's cooking and-----," He stopped when abruptly the sound of something above caught his attention as well as that of the two robots. "Oh my goodness!" Hector pointed. "Is that.....them?" "I think.....so," Michael was trying to remember what the shuttles inside the Galactica had looked like. The vehicle was coming in for a landing in the open grassland just beyond the point where the well-tended farmland region ended. "I should be prepared!" Vector pulled out the bulky laser gun at his side that he used to shoot at the occasional wild animal that could scavenge the crops. "Put it away, Vector," Michael said gently. "I have a feeling these are the good guys." "Do you suppose Apollo and Starbuck will be there?" Hector asked. I hope not, Michael said to himself. "I don't know, Hector. We'll find out soon." The vehicle that he was sure was a shuttle came to a stop and its engines shut down. A minute went by before the hatch opened and the first person emerged. And to Michael's surprise it wasn't Apollo or Starbuck or anyone dressed in the tan uniform that he remembered well. Instead, an early-middle aged but very attractive dark blonde woman with deep blue eyes dressed in elegant green and white robes emerged. And right behind her was......a gold-colored robot with a head unlike anything he'd seen. Only when they had emerged and taken their first steps did he finally see two men in the familiar uniforms, but he knew right away neither was Apollo or Starbuck. A younger blonde woman was the last to emerge. "Hello!" the older woman waved her arm in a friendly gesture, her voice pleasant. "Hello," Michael moved toward her and motioned the two robots to stay where they were. "Please forgive our intrusion this way," she said. "We.....tried to make contact on our communications band but there was no answer." "Well, I'm afraid our old airbase facility is inactive," Michael said. "It's only in operation when a supply ship puts in three times a year." "How many are you on the planet?" she asked as she looked about. "Just my family, which is my wife and our three children. Plus one other family several kilometers from here," he paused and then cautiously asked, "You're.....from the Galactica?" She looked relieved, "Not.....exactly. You know of Commander Adama?" "I never met him directly," Michael said. "But I was acquainted with his son, Captain Apollo." She broke into a smile, "I'm very glad to meet you, then!" she extended her hand. "My name is Ila. I'm Commander Adama's wife and Captain Apollo's mother." His eyes widened in amazement at this revelation. It instantly seemed to relax him as they shook hands. "I'm honored to meet you," he said, "My name is Michael. And these," he motioned behind him, "are Vector and Hector." The two robots moved forward and right away their attention was locked onto Commander Cobre, who stood in back of Ila. "My goodness!"Vector said. "A robot!" "The proper term is Cylon command centurion," Cobre said in the voice that had once been that of the IL Cylon Lucifer. "What classification do you call yourselves?" "I am a DX model farm worker. I am Vector! This is my.....imperfect son, Hector!" "Hello!" he waved. "I am Commander Cobre," he said with an air of bemusement. "You have actually developed the capacity for biological reproduction?" "Oh, no, no, no. Nothing that dramatic!" Vector said. "I built Hector myself, which technically makes him my son! Oh, but how it would have been nice to think of how it could have been the *other* way!" "And then maybe I'd have fewer of your faults!" Behind Cobre, Lieutenant Banker, Sergeant Harroun and the Galactica refugee, Kelli, were already fighting a losing effort to stifle their laughter. Ila and Michael were doing a better job but it was clear they were on the verge of joining in. "We seem to be hitting it off very well, Michael," Ila said. "Is there someplace we can go and.....talk?" "Yes, if you'll follow me into the hovermobile," Michael motioned. "Why don't you four accompany me and......Commander Cobre is it?" "Yes." "Well, maybe you can ride with Vector and Hector on the cart here." "Yes, I think I would find it *very* enlightening to spend more time with them," the Cylon said. "All right then, let's do it this way. Vector, Hector, I want you to give your.....fellow robot a tour of our facilities and that way Sarah can fix breakfast for our other guests." "Is that okay with you, Cobre?" Ila asked. "Yes, insomuch as I would have nothing else to do while you ingest your consumables." Cobre said. "It will be refreshing to converse with a more sophisticated model!" Vector motioned. "Perhaps you can teach me a thing or two about where I've gone wrong!" "Perhaps, I can," the bemused air remained as Cobre settled into the rear seat of the four person cart. Vector started it up and the vehicle moved off. Michael turned back to Ila, "Did he say he was a Cylon? Isn't that the race your people have been fighting against?" "We still are. But.....Commander Cobre is not a typical Cylon," Ila motioned to the others, "Michael, these are our shuttle pilots, Lieutenant Banker and Sergeant Harroun. And Kelli is an agro-worker who was originally on the Galactica." Michael shook hands with the others and when he came up to Kelli, a look of recognition came over her face. "I remember you! You were the one in that ship the Galactica intercepted." "Yes, I was," he was amazed. "Have we met?" "No, but I remember your face on our broadcast network and how you stunned one of our security guards. That caused a bit of an uproar at the time." "I hope all is forgiven on that," Michael said, "But.....I'm confused. You say.....you're not from the Galactica now?" he again looked at Ila, "Even though you're Apollo's mother and Adama's wife?" "That's a very complicated story, Michael," Ila said. "And that's why we're here now. Because we need to be brought up to date on how things stand with your people. And more importantly, the state of relations between the Nationalists and the Eastern Alliance." "Well let's get started then." They returned to the main house and saw that Sarah was up and had just finished breakfast for the three children. The eldest girl was Michael's, the younger boy and girl were Sarah's. But all of them had learned to think of each other as siblings even before Michael and Sarah had finally married each other. The introductions to each other had been filled with surprise and excitement. The children were fascinated to see two new warriors just like Apollo and Starbuck, each carrying a laser pistol just like they had. When Sarah was introduced to Ila and learned of her connection to Apollo and Adama, she was more taken aback than even Michael had. And then, she had mentioned how kind and compassionate Apollo had been during his time on Paradeen and how Ila had every right to be proud of him. That had been the one point where Michael could feel his inner irritation returning and he had to summon all his self-control to force it back down. The children were then sent out of the room because according to Sarah, their neighbor Aggie Moreland would be arriving to pick them up and take them to their house for school and instruction. Michael explained that Josh and Aggie Moreland were a middle-aged couple with their own farm nearby whose children had died in the Alliance raid. And that since their arrival on Paradeen two years ago, Mrs. Moreland, had become the teacher for the children. The adults then settled down to breakfast which consisted of grilled poulon meat and eggs. The fresh "home" quality of the meal was something all of the Colonials realized they hadn't truly enjoyed in a long time. Over the meal, Ila explained their situation and who they were......and why she wasn't with her family aboard the Galactica. "I do remember Apollo mentioning there was another ship like the Galactica, but they'd separated a while back." "Yes," Ila nodded. "I wasn't aboard the Pegasus then. I only recently came to them from our original home planet." "The one that was destroyed by those.....Cylons?" Sarah found herself looking at Ila's face intently, trying to see some reminder of the woman's son. For the most part, she wasn't seeing a lot. Apollo clearly took after his father more. "Yes. I was trapped there when the Galactica left and my husband didn't know I was alive. I'm part of a Resistance movement that's taking place there and the Pegasus is returning to be part of that while the Galactica is continuing to Earth." "Earth," Michael mused as he took a sip from his glass of citrus juice, "There was a time when Apollo and Starbuck thought Terra might be the Earth they're looking for. They found out it wasn't." "How did they find that out?" Banker asked. "Well Hector, one of our two robots, took Starbuck to the Archives of our destroyed capitol city. Starbuck found a chart of Terra's system and he said later it didn't match what he already knew about the Earth system from.....I think it was some ancient writings of yours." "We call it the Testament of Arkada," Ila said. "Did you ever explain to Apollo and Starbuck just *how* Terra was settled in the first place." Michael set his glass down on the table. "There's nothing I could tell, Ila," he said. "Not me. Not Sarah. Not Vector or Hector or for that matter *anyone* in all of Terran civilization except maybe the Supreme Pontiff, who is the highest religious leader on Terra." "I don't understand," the blonde Academician frowned. "Are you telling me that no one in your civilization knows how everything began?" "It's supposedly written in what are called the 'Sacred Texts'," Sarah spoke. "According to tradition, a new Supreme Pontiff of Terra studies them when he comes to power and then puts them away again. For more than five hundred years only the Supreme Pontiff has had access to them. Supposedly.....the population of Terra isn't supposed to know what's in them until some kind of.....event prophesied long ago." "Where are these Sacred Texts?" Banker asked. The Lieutenant knew that Ila was in charge of the diplomatic mission, but he was still fascinated by this. "Somewhere on Terra, I presume. Since neither Sarah or I have been there and can never go there, we wouldn't know." "You've never been on Terra?" Ila frowned. Michael's gaze turned to Kelli. "You're the one from the Galactica, right? Don't you remember the reason why Sarah and I and our children had to be kept in pressure chambers on your ship?" "Yes, I do," the agro-tech said. "Our atmosphere was too heavy for you, much in the way Terra is. You're used only to thinner atmosphere like here on Paradeen." "And on Lunar Seven before that," Michael said. "That's one reason why we're not brought up to know too many specific things about Terra. Though since the war ended, we've....been more open to learning about it." "If we want to find out more about your civilization's origin, we'd have to go to Terra directly, then," Ila brought her hands together. "Which brings us to the matter of what's happened since the Galactica left regarding the truce between the Nationalists and the Eastern Alliance." "We only get information through our supply ship," Sarah said. "The last contact was over a month ago. We're not completely up to date." "Sarah, what's a month?" Sergeant Harroun spoke for the first time. "It's an ancient Gemonese term for sectar, Sergeant," Ila said. "I've noticed how all the time units you use come from one of our ancient dialects, so at the very least, we do know that your Sacred Texts have to confirm a common ancestry between your people and ours." "We never doubted that," Michael said. "I would have to assume that in some way we began with some offshoot of this.....Thirteenth Tribe I think that's been mentioned to us before." "But for all we know you could be the result of those who descended from settlers who came *from* Earth, rather than those who initially were going *to* Earth," Ila said. "Those are the kind of questions our people need to have answered." "Why didn't Apollo try to find out?" Sarah was puzzled. And once again, her mentioning his name made Michael grimace for just a brief instant. This time, Ila saw it and made a note to bring it up with him later. "I can't answer that," Apollo's mother said as she looked over at Kelli, "There was never a formal explanation on that point by Commander Adama?" "Nothing formal," the Galactica refugee said, "Just an announcement that they knew that Terra wasn't Earth and how that rendered any consideration of settlement by the Fleet on Terra a dead issue." "I suppose if we were able to communicate with the Galactica again we'd find out the reason, but for now we aren't able to do that," Ila turned back to Michael and Sarah, "That's why we're going to have to go to Terra and find out. But before we do that, we have to know what the state of the truce is. Obviously the fact that an Alliance destroyer was sent to try and destroy your community is not a good sign." "No it isn't," Michael nodded, "And if it was targeting our community specifically, that only confirms the meaning behind the shake-up in the Alliance leadership. According to the supply ship, there was an internal revolt within the Alliance military leadership. Their Supreme Commandant was forced out of power and likely executed. The new head of the Alliance is a military commander we're personally acquainted with named Leiter." "The one Apollo and Starbuck brought back as a prisoner from Paradeen," Kelli interjected. "Yes," Sarah nodded, "Why did you release him?" "Technically we didn't," Kelli said. "Leiter and his crew staged an escape, and it was decided to let them go because at the time the Galactica was trying to track them back to their military base to determine the overall strength of the Alliance." "Not very bright thinking, if you ask me," for the first time an edge of hostility entered Sarah's voice. "Leiter was a piece of rotten bilge scum who deserved to die for what he and his goons did to the population of this planet. Which included my father." "Sarah....." Michael glared at her, but his wife held her ground. "I'm sorry, Michael. And I'm sorry, Ila, I mean no disrespect to your husband, but Leiter committed an atrocity that he got off easy for, and ever since we heard that he was back with the Alliance and about to become the new Supreme Commandant......it hasn't sat well with me." "Sarah, I am not here to defend every decision my husband made, because I wasn't there to judge his actions," Ila said patiently. "Neither for that matter were you." "And my perspective was limited, but wasn't it more important that the war ended and a truce was achieved that was favorable?" Kelli interjected. "Maybe at first," Sarah conceded, "But with Leiter in charge now, that truce clearly isn't going to last. And that whole attempt to destroy us because we represent a stain on his egotistical pride as an Alliance Enforcer proves how it's only a matter of time before he breaks the truce and the war resumes. And when it does.....he's certainly going to send his destroyers back here again." "Well we certainly can't let that happen," Ila said. She knew that was making a diplomatic commitment that Cain hadn't explicitly committed her to doing, but she knew it had to be made. And if the Juggernaut chose to argue with her about it later.....she had no intention of backing down. "We have no intention of leaving the area without some assurance that things have remained stable." "Even though this isn't your fight?" Michael asked. "We're all brothers of man, Michael," Ila said pointedly. "I'm part of a cause to ensure that those in the Colonies will be free again and able to live in peace one day. My husband is leading others to Earth so that they might know peace among the Thirteenth Tribe. And certainly your people deserve nothing less. If there's anything we can do to help.....we will." "That's reassuring," he said, but Sarah seemed less than impressed. "But you have to move on, eventually, right?" Sarah said. "What guarantee for the long-term can you provide to make it last, so that we don't have to worry about the Alliance coming back? Or that *maybe* the Nationalist government can finally have the guts to believe that Paradeen can flourish again? Because even before Leiter seized power, the Nationalists decided that Paradeen was too distant to resettle and repopulate. That's why all the other families except for the Morelands and us decided to leave. We had to contract with a private corporation from Lunar Six just to get a supply ship to keep coming here three times a year." Ila wondered if there was any point trying to reason with Sarah. There was clearly a good deal of bitterness in her, and it was also clear from looking at Michael that their marriage was now going through a considerable strain. "I can't guarantee more than we're capable of doing, just as it was true of what my husband could guarantee," she finally answered. "We can help.....but you have to be the ones who can learn to make something of that after we're gone. I'm sorry to hear that events seem to be conspiring to undo the good that was left to your people by the Galactica, but.....perhaps that's why Providence has directed the Pegasus to return here. So we can attend to those matters that couldn't have been foreseen." The Academician then added, "Not to mention what your people can still help us with in terms of our journey." "About finding Earth?" Michael raised an eyebrow, "We can't do any more for you than we were able to do for the Galactica. And you already know about that." "There is the matter of those Sacred Texts you spoke of," Ila said. "We need to see them and learn the truth of how your people came to be on Terra. And more important, we need to find out if your people has any possible trace of the technology your original settlers might have possessed. *If* your settlement was part of the same common ancestry that our civilization originates from." "I can't imagine how we could have anything that's helpful to you from a technology standpoint," Michael said. "You just might," the Academician emphasized. "We won't be leaving this system until we know for certain." Just then, they heard the sound of the motor cart outside and the beeping sound of a horn. "Sounds like Hector and Vector have returned with your Cylon friend," Michael rose from his chair. "We'd better go meet them." Sarah, as if reflecting her sullen disposition, had stayed behind in the dining room while everyone else had gone out to greet the three returning robots. Hector and Vector were still in the front of the cart while Ila noticed that Commander Cobre's hands were clutching the side. "How was it?" Ila asked. "It was most illuminating," the command centurion turned to face them. "Not simply what Hector and Vector showed me of this complex and how it functions, but I also learned much about what they still have to learn about efficient vehicular operation." "I told you, I should have been driving!" Hector said to Vector. "My reflexes are sharper!" "I got us all back in one piece!" Vector retorted. "I have never damaged you or myself once in all the years I have driven motorized vehicles." "All right, all right," Michael held up his hands. "That's enough, you two." "But by far the most interesting thing Hector mentioned concerns the ruined city to the north. He was talking about how he and a warrior from the Galactica went looking for old records there one time, but that the search was limited because the air toxicity in the underground archives is harmful to humans." "Yes, Michael mentioned that to us," Ila said. "Is the air still toxic?" "We haven't checked the ruins in the last two years since the Nationalists sent word that Paradeen wasn't going to be reclaimed for mass settlement," Michael said. "The toxicity levels have likely declined since then, but.....they could still be dangerous." "What about auxiliary power for computer systems?" "Presumably still intact. The original purpose of the Alliance in laying waste to the city was to destroy the people and leave the infrastructure untouched for a later occupation." A thin smile came over Ila's face. "So it should be perfectly safe for three robots who don't have to worry about breathing to do some serious exploring, correct?" "Correct!" Vector spoke up. "We could spend hours and hours down there if we had to!" "Commander Cobre, would that be agreeable? And if you're able to access a computer database, could you record that data for us to analyze later?" "That would be *most* rewarding, Professor!" the command centurion said. "The more data to explore and digest, the more intellectually stimulating our work aboard the Pegasus is!" "Well in that case, I'd like you to go there and see what you can find. What we need are history books pertaining to the settlement of Terra, and specifically these so-called 'Sacred Texts' and anything else related to them." "That will be our priority," Cobre said with deference and then rapped his hand on the back of Vector's head, "I am prepared to endure your driving skills for the journey." "Not in this vehicle!" Vector said. "This is a short-distance cart for the ranch only! We'll have to use the hovermobile!" "Hmmm," the Cylon said as he swung his legs out, "I hope you have greater proficiency with that one!" "Let me!" Hector said indignantly, "It's my turn to drive now!" "Not on my life!" "I am beginning to understand why humans came to develop such a natural suspicion of robotic life!" Cobre said dryly as he followed the two robots to the nearby hovermobile. Michael was looking dubiously at Ila, "What makes you think the archives here would have anything related to the Sacred Texts?" "As long as we're here and there's an Archive, I have to try," Ila said. "Besides, if the purpose of the Texts was to keep them hidden, what better place to keep a copy than the most distant outpost of Terran civilization?" "I never thought of that," he admitted. "Still, it is a longshot." "Maybe. But at least we'll have tried. And even if the Texts themselves aren't in the Archives, there might be books or scholarly works that refer to them in specific terms that can provide some helpful clues for us," she paused, "I was originally a scholar of sorts, so I know how sometimes you can find a lot in forgotten repositories." She then turned to the other members of the party. "Banker, Harroun, you go back to the shuttle and notify Commander Cain what we're doing and that we'll need to stay here for a while. I also recommend talking to Dr. Arnoff." "And after that?" Banker asked. "Just stand by," she said simply. Banker nodded and then pointed at the cart the three robots had just vacated. "Can we use that? I think we're familiar with the basic principle." "Sure, go ahead," Michael shrugged. "But let me just show you a couple things." As Michael and the two warriors moved over to the cart, Ila quietly took Kelli aside so they could talk out of earshot. "I'm going to ask Michael to show me around so he and I can have a more private talk," the Professor said. "I want you to do the same with Sarah." "Sure," the Galactica refugee smiled wryly. "I guess among other things, we're also in the marriage counseling business?" "I guess so," Ila returned it. Once Banker and Harroun were riding away on the motor cart back toward the shuttle, the sergeant finally let out an exasperated sigh. "I feel like a piece of deadweight on this whole assignment." "Don't," Banker said quietly. "We're not diplomats, Harroun. That's the Professor's job. And she knows what she's doing. So far, she's playing this whole thing just right. If it means we have to play the role of glorified skybus drivers who say nothing......so be it. That's how it is sometimes when you're a warrior and not in a command position." Harroun looked at him with amusement, "And to think you used to be the biggest Grumbler on the Pegasus next to Lieutenant Paris." "I put my Grumbling days behind me after that mission I went with Colonel Tolen on," Banker said. "And everything that's happened since then, starting with the Professor's arrival, has vindicated all that. Don't you feel the same?" "Things are better, I don't deny that," Harroun admitted, "Still.....the way she's shot to the top in terms of influence and authority.....it's been a little too sudden. And just because of who she's married to." "She isn't just Commander Adama's wife and Cain's relative by marriage," Banker said, "She's spent three yahrens cutting her teeth in a situation worse than anything we've had to go through the last few yahrens. All we've done is largely putter about the galaxy rebuilding ourselves. She's taken part in serious fighting and she's also an expert in areas none of us are competent in and that includes Cain. As far as I'm concerned, I thank the Lords for her on all levels because she's done a lot for morale." "I guess so," Harroun knew he shouldn't argue the matter. "It's just that I'd like to.....do something more than this." As the cart came to a stop in front of the shuttle, Banker smiled thinly at him. "Our time will come for bigger work, Harroun. For now......let's show we're willing to handle the more mundane. Let's get that hookup to Cain ready." "Do you need some help?" Sarah, who was clearing away the breakfast table looked up in surprise as Kelli entered the room. "Oh.....well, yes, I guess so, since Vector and Hector have gone off with your Cylon friend. I don't ordinarily do housework." "That's nice to know," she came over and helped her carry the plates and utensils into the kitchen area. "Your children are going to be gone for awhile?" "Aggie Moreland usually teaches them until lunch and then they come home, unless they have lunch there." "What kind of people are the Morelands?" Kelli set several dirty plates down and could see what looked like an early version of a kitchen sonic scrub machine. "Oh, they're very kind. Like I said, they lost all their children in the Alliance raid. When we came into their lives, it......gave them a new sense of purpose." Sarah sighed and shook her head, "I feel like we're all running out of purpose, lately." "Because you don't think the peace will hold?" "Not with Leiter in charge," she began loading the dishes into the machine and then looked up at the ceiling with frustration, "Dear God, *why* can't there be any real peace? A real chance to just truly.....live again, and for children to grow up unafraid." "You're not alone in asking that," Kelli said. "My husband and I have done a lot of that." Sarah looked at her, "You're married?" "Yes. My husband Wallis is also an agro-tech. And we have two little children, four and two yahrens old," she paused, "We had a dream just like yours, Sarah, and we had to go through the pain of seeing it die." "How?" Kelli recounted how she and her husband had "jumped ship" from the Galactica at Brylon Station out of a frustration over their plight and the desire to find a place to live in again where they could enjoy the simple delights of farming land and raising their children in a natural, non-sterile environment. And how their experience on the planet Brylon had turned into a disaster due to the rigid demands and burdens placed on them by the ruling Zykonian race. "We had our hopes and dreams and saw them shattered," Kelli said, "If Commander Cain and the Pegasus hadn't arrived to rescue us from that situation.....it would have been horrible. My husband would have ended up in a labor camp for fifteen yahrens and the children and I....we would have been left to our own devices in a hostile city surrounded by aliens." Sarah's expression was cautious, "I'm glad the Pegasus showed up to rescue you and your family," she said, "But.....what sort of lesson am I supposed to take away from that?" "I don't know," Kelli admitted, "Maybe the fact that I envy your situation a good deal." The Terran smirked as she finished the loading and turned the machine on. "The difference is that you probably love your husband a good deal." "And you don't love yours?" "Let's go outside. I can show you our gardens," Sarah motioned her to follow her outside. Kelli noticed how it was an adroit way to avoid giving a direct answer right away. "We grow corn here," she pointed, "It's one of our staple crops." "Corn?" Kelli frowned, not familiar with the term, but when she saw it, she nodded, "Oh, yes. We call it maize." "That's a term we've used in the past, but it's more arcane," Sarah said. "I guess that's further proof of our ancestral tie." "It would seem so," Kelli nodded and took a closer look at the row of maize plants. "Looks a little weak in this area." "The soil isn't the best. That's a legacy of what the Alliance did." The agro-tech side of Kelli was coming to the forefront as she knelt down in front of the fenced in perimeter. "What do you rotate the corn with?" "Rotate?" Sarah frowned. "Yes. Crop rotation in the soil to strengthen it when the primary crop isn't in season. It's a basic principle of agro-science. Grow another crop in the same soil, harvest it, and then plant the primary one again." "Oh.....," Sarah looked embarrassed. "Yes. My father told me about that technique. But that's not how it was done on the farms I worked on, on Lunar Seven." "Really?" Kelli was surprised, "What kind of farms were these?" "Collective ones," she said with disgust, "The Alliance forced us to grow only specific crops that they deemed of primary importance. All to meet a government sanctioned quota." "That's a lot like what we had to deal with on Brylon," Kelli said. "We had to meet the government quota before we could keep and sell any of our own yield on the private market. It's a total astrum-backwards approach to agriculture." Sarah seemed to relax more and faintly smiled, "I......think I know what you mean if I understand the term 'astrum' correctly." she paused, "Can you explain more about how to effectively.....rotate?" "Sure," Kelli motioned and spent the next fifteen centons giving Sarah a basic introduction as to how it could be done with this section of land. The Terran farmer was clearly impressed and slowly, the sullen, withdrawn person Kelli had seen at the breakfast table had become more relaxed and open. All because Kelli could offer her the perspective of a woman her own age, and one who belonged to the same trade. While Sarah and Kelli had their talk about farming, Ila and Michael were walking on the opposite side of the ranch which was devoted to the animals and livestock. Ila could see a coop structure for the poulons, and a corral for the equines. "The kids love to ride them once in a while," Michael said, "But truthfully they're more difficult to maintain. I sometimes think the one drawback with this whole place is that we try to be too diverse. Farming, poulons, livestock......if it weren't for Vector and Hector keeping up the automatic systems that controls the irrigation and makes sure the animals are fed.....I think I'd lose my mind. But it has to be done to keep everything in balance." "I get the feeling that if it were up to you, you'd have left with the other families who abandoned this planet after the Nationalists decided they weren't going to resettle it." Michael sighed, "That's exactly what caused relations between me and Sarah to start going downhill. The Nationalists had taken Lunar Seven back under the treaty and.....I thought it would be better for Sarah and the children to go back and become part of a more viable community. But.....she wanted no part of that. Lunar Seven has too many painful memories for Sarah." "Like her first husband being killed there?" Ila guessed. "Yes," the Terran nodded. "And a lot more. This place.....even though her father died here in the Alliance raid, she regards as her sanctuary. And she doesn't want to lose it." Michael then awkwardly at Ila, "And I don't say this out of any disrespect, but.....your son's name tends to come up in the quarreling." "In what way?" Apollo's mother asked. "Well.....Sarah told you how Apollo was the one responsible for getting us put back on course after the Galactica intercepted our ship taking us from Lunar Seven to Paradeen. And because......she and I were fighting a lot before that, she....kind of developed a crush on him and wanted to find a way to get him to stay with us." Ila let out a chuckle that was also meant to remove Michael's awkwardness, "I think my son underestimates the power he has on women!" Michael seemed to relax, "Well.....anyway, Apollo wasn't being receptive or anything like that. But....Sarah got so obsessed with the thought that she actually sabotaged his.....viper I think you call it......along with Starbuck's, to keep them from leaving. It.....kind of brought matters to a head." "Sabotaged their vipers?" Ila's eyes widened. "Yes. They.....made a mistake leaving those canopies open and that allowed Sarah to just climb up on a ladder and smash the instrument panels." "I'm sorry, I know this is a side issue, but.....what happened to those wrecked vipers?" Ila knew that she had to get that point cleared up because from a big picture standpoint, it was something she and Cain had to know. "Oh, well.....after Apollo and Starbuck left, Vector and Hector helped Josh Moreland and me disassemble some of the laser power units. We adapted the components to our energizer modules that allows us to provide additional power to both our ranches on a constant basis. So....in a way, long term that actually helped us later on, but at the time it was.....not pleasant. Apollo really lost his temper over it." "I can imagine. So the vipers have been completely disassembled?" "Just about," Michael said. "The.....engine modules we turned over to the people who run the supply shuttle back to Lunar Six, and they said they'd turn them over to the Nationalist Central Authority on Terra, but.....I have no idea if they ever made any use of them." "Thanks for clearing that up," Ila said, "I had to make sure there wasn't something left of those vipers that could have fallen into Alliance hands." "I understand." "But getting back to what happened at the time. It was after that, that .....Sarah started to see you differently? Once she realized Apollo wasn't receptive?" "Well.....yes and no. It was really when Leiter and the Alliance showed up and tried to terrorize us into giving up the plans of the Nationalist operative who helped us escape from Lunar Seven, that......we kind of got our real feelings for each other out in the open. Or at least.....what I thought were our real feelings for each other. Looking back, I wonder if it was more the passion of the moment that drove us together and made us think we could love each other forever as husband and wife." "And you say Apollo's name keeps coming up in all your quarrels since then?" "It's sort of an unspoken thing," Michael said, "After two yahrens of marriage and the disappointments over the Nationalists not resettling, and my wanting us to go back to Lunar Seven.....she kind of made it clear that I wasn't in Apollo's class as a man worth spending the rest of her life with. A sort of 'why can't you be more like Apollo?' kind of attitude. So it's not your son specifically that's become the issue, it's just that Sarah uses the memory of him as an excuse to make unfavorable comparisons with me now that she thinks I've been letting her down." "And that's not right of her," Ila said. "Maybe if she found out more about what Apollo's done since he left, she might stop using him as an excuse to find shortcomings in you." "I recommend a grain crop to rotate," Kelli said, "If you apply the principle here and elsewhere on your land.....I think the results will be a lot more plentiful." "I'll tell Michael," Sarah then let out a mild sigh, "Hopefully he'll be willing." Kelli decided now was the time to zero in, "Do you love him, Sarah?" The Terran looked at her, "I thought I did," she said, "I thought I was learning how to love him after we were thrust together, but......things changed after a while and soon all the things that made me not like Michael started coming back to the surface. When he found out the planet wasn't going to be resettled......he wanted us to leave and go back to that hellhole we escaped from, Lunar Seven." "But isn't that planet back in Nationalist hands?" "That's not the point," Sarah said. "There are too many bad memories on that place and its even more likely to be exposed to the war when it resumes. *This* place is my home now. My father made certain we'd have a place of our own that could give us some peace. If Michael weren't such a technocrat at heart instead of a farmer, he'd recognize that." she shook her head, "If only he had more of Apollo in him. Apollo was......" she sighed, "There was something more instinctively caring about him. If he didn't have his own obligation with his son.....I still can't help but think that maybe......he might have come to see how great life could have been here." Kelli was surprised that Sarah had been this candid with her. But she realized it had come because she had bonded with her in terms of being a woman and a colleague. This wasn't the sort of thing she ever would have said in the presence of Apollo's mother. But with Kelli.....she'd felt more at ease. She knew she had to take advantage of that. "I should probably let you know something," Kelli said. "Apollo's married now." Sarah's expression wasn't one of shock, but her eyebrows did go up. "Is he?" "Yes," Kelli could hear the mild disappointment in her voice. "It wasn't too long before my husband and I left the Galactica. He married the daughter of Commander Cain of the Pegasus." "I......see," she took a breath and idly picked at one of the leaves off a husk of maize. "Well......I hope he's happy now." The way she spoke, Kelli knew that Sarah had never harbored any foolish expectation of Apollo coming back one day. It was clear that Apollo had represented an intangible idea and concept to the Terran woman as a way of making it easy to harshly judge what she saw as her husband's failings. And now....Sarah had been given a gentle lesson in how she could no longer use Apollo as an intangible idea for her own purposes. "I ah......think we should get back now," Sarah stood up and adjusted her silver suit. "And maybe we can talk some more about......crop rotation." Kelli smiled, "Of course." "If it doesn't come up in her talk with Kelli, I'm willing to just idly drop the fact my son is married now," Ila said as she and Michael kept walking. "Maybe the reality of that situation will get her to stop making unflattering comparisons between him and you." "I hope you're right," Michael sighed, "I.....do love her. It's just.....we've never had a real chance to feel totally secure. If the Nationalists had just come back here.....maybe things would have been different." "I'm sorry they didn't," Ila said, "But.....I guess your new President.....what was his name again?" "Maxwell. President Robert Maxwell." "Well, I can understand his strategic thinking. He may have felt that settling too soon after the truce might have spread the Nationalist resources too thin." "Oh, I do understand it," Michael said. "I was making that very point to Sarah when I was explaining why it was probably for the best that we forget about Paradeen. But it's too much an intellectual point that can't drown out the emotional argument in favor of staying." "I can relate to that kind of dilemma," Ila said quietly. "I've wrestled with that myself recently." "How did you resolve it?" Michael lifted an eyebrow. Commander Adama's wife didn't answer at first. If she told him that hers had been a case of resolving the dilemma in favor of the intellect, which was her duty to the Resistance, and not to the emotional argument in favor of reunion with her husband and family, it could undercut the argument for Michael showing more sensitivity to Sarah's feelings about staying on Paradeen. "The right answer varies from individual to individual," she finally answered. "The two of you need to compromise your differences, but......are you committed to her vision of what she wants? Or are you just tolerating it now?" "Maybe I have," he looked away from her, "But.....I want to believe in it. I want her to....know how much I want this place for ourselves and our children. If we can only live here without any more fear." "I give you my word," Ila said, "That's going to be one of our tasks. So there won't be anymore fear for people like you and Sarah." "That's about the size of it, Commander," Banker reported. "We're going to need to stay until we know for certain there aren't any clues in the old City Archives that can help us out. Commander Cobre's doing all the searching there because the air would be toxic for anyone human to handle it." "All right," Cain said, "I'm okay with an extended search, but it can't be for days on end. According to Dr. Laughlin, you're all liable to start feeling the effects of the thin atmosphere within a minimum of three cycles." "Well if need be, we could always just do a crew swap. The thin atmosphere makes no difference either to Cobre." "That isn't it," the Juggernaut said. "When you confer with the Professor again, remind her that in a matter of days, the Alliance could well be on to the fact that we've entered the quadrant. If this.....Leiter person has plans to renew hostilities, he might start accelerating them unless we get to Terra before he can put those plans into effect." "I'll let her know that, sir. Are you putting a firm deadline on how long we can stay?" Cain paused for a micron, "Not.....just yet. I want to hear a first report from Cobre by the end of today's cycle and then we'll take it from there as to whether you get an extra cycle or two. But no more than that. We have to get underway by then." "Yes, Commander. I'll let her know." "What is it Krebs?" "Destroyer Nine under Commander Suloff has just passed on a message through the Relay Station on Lunar One." Leiter's eyebrow arched up, "Suloff was supposed to maintain radio silence until he reached Lunar One." "Yes, Excellence, but he says a most urgent development has taken place. If he is correct......then our old adversary is back." His scowl deepened, "What are you babbling about?" "I am talking of the Galactica, Excellence," Krebs said gravely. "Suloff believes he has seen her operating in the vicinity of Paradeen." The Supreme Commandant rose from his chair, "This had better not be a joke, Krebs." "I assure you, Excellence, Commander Suloff would not joke of this. He was after all, part of our crew when we were....." he trailed off. "Imprisoned, Krebs. The word is imprisoned," the anger grew in Leiter's expression. "And long ago I vowed that if ever the Fates returned Adama and his monstrosity to our quadrant, there would come a time for revenge. It would seem that time is fast approaching. And how fortuitous it comes at a time when power is at last mine. We must now change our timetable and draw up new plans of action." "Excellence," his chief aide said. "What if the Galactica heads back out into deep space and doesn't return to the vicinity of Terra?" "That will not happen," Leiter said boldy. "They would not possibly return to this region just to check on those insignificant insects on Paradeen. They clearly have a larger purpose in mind, related to how they forced humiliation upon us. This time.....we will be prepared. And I will have my revenge on Adama at last as well as the destruction of the Nationalists." Chapter Four "We must go down approximately five levels to the Archives," Vector said as he led Hector and Cobre through the gutted ruins of Paradeen's Capitol City. "That is where the primary data bases are." "A remarkable set-up," the Cylon said as he looked about the vast rotunda of what had been the Capitol building. It had been constructed of tinted glass and contained numerous walkways and moving stairwells. The latter though had been rendered inoperable due to the damage and decay that had set up. "It's such a pity that something this.....noble was destroyed so.....senselessly." As soon as he had spoken the words, Cobre was aware of how uncharacteristic it was for him as a Cylon, or *any* Cylon for that matter to express such sentiments. Yet ever since he and his three subordinate centurions had been reactivated in the abandoned Delta Aquinas garrison after twelve yahrens of idleness, so much had seemed so different about the universe to Cobre from what he'd been programmed to believe. And by far, the one thing that stood out most in his mind was the utter sense of waste that came from the Cylon campaigns of slaughter and conquest......all for the benefit of a narrow group of advanced class Cylons who didn't have to perform any of what humans would call the "dirty work." The more he and his fellow centurions, Serpentine, Festus and "Lucy" (by this point the last of the group had decided it was simpler to answer to the nickname than to the name of the now deactivated IL Cylon Lucifer) had worked with the crew of the Pegasus, the more he had come to feel a sense of what he could only call gratitude that at last, for the first time, he was doing work not because it was commanded of him to do it in the hopes of making things easier for an elite class, but because the Pegasus crew actually saw him as the best one for the job. That he was being permitted to tap into his skills to analyze and process and provide genuine support and assistance. And with it, he had seen the humans for the most part overcome the instinctive prejudice they might have felt towards him as a Cylon Expressing.....gratitude for the fact that he and his fellow centurions were there to do productive assignments. That was enough to convince Cobre and the others that the argument in favor of revolution against the established Cylon order......which was clearly well underway back in the regions of space that contained the Colonies and the Cylon home world itself, was too powerful to ignore. Especially when the humans he was working with and the humans Professor Ila had been working with in the Colonies had made it clear that they welcomed the support of dissident Cylons and were more than willing to treat them as equals, and not act as substitute masters for the advanced class Cylons they had previously served. Now, in this assignment, he was for the first time seeing in Vector and Hector examples of another type of robot. Constructed originally by human hands but in the case of Vector, given the ability to be creative himself and create a next generation robot in his own image, of which Hector was the result. In the tour of the ranch facilities and now in this journey to the Capitol City, Cobre had seen both advantages and weaknesses in the two robots compared to Cylons such as himself. They lacked the through efficiency of a Cylon mind, which seemingly stemmed from their more human characteristics. That made them prone to many examples of human weakness in terms of their emotions. But at the same time, Cobre could appreciate the fact that Vector and Hector had a good working relationship with the humans they served and that they were treated not as slaves but almost as though they were part of the family unit itself. It was a reminder of how the sense of......appreciation the human mind could feel for a robot that he'd been seeing from the Pegasus crew was not an aberration. It was capable of extending it elsewhere. All this, the advanced classes and the Imperious Leaders have tried to destroy for a millennia......and to achieve.....what? A ruthless order of......mindless efficiency. Devoid of meaningful productivity except serving the pleasure of......those who do nothing except glorify their intellect while achieving nothing! "Yes, it is a pity it came to all this," Vector said in response to his last utterance as he led Cobre and Hector toward a stairwell. "But that is a testament to how ruthless the Alliance is! Oh, to think of what used to be here!" "There is perhaps one thing to be said about the Alliance," Cobre said, "When they choose to foment destruction, they at least carry out the tasks themselves, and do not hide behind programmed subordinates carrying out the directive." "I do not understand you, Cobre," Hector said. "Leaders make the decisions. And the soldiers who carry them out are basically programmed to obey!" "But they are still sentient beings who of their own free will choose to carry out the tasks for their leaders," the Cylon said as he turned the corner of the stairwell which now read LEVEL TWO. "What if.....the Alliance used soldiers like......yourselves to carry out these tasks?" Vector stopped, "Oh my goodness, what a horrible thought! We robots do not wish to be agents of destruction for the whims of others! Our only desire is to serve and be productive!" "And notwithstanding your......peculiarities, I am impressed by what you have achieved," he said, "Cylons such as myself......can learn a great deal from those like you." "I am flattered," Vector said as he resumed walking, leading them down several more flights until they reached the Fifth Level. Here, it was dark and human eyes would have found it impossible to see anything amidst the endless layers of debris and decay on the floor. Nor would it have been possible to breathe. But the three robots could move about with no such concerns. Together they walked down the corridor, and then Cobre abruptly stopped even as Vector and Hector continued to walk further down. "Forgive my impudence," the command centurion said as he pointed to a door on the left side of the hall, "But I do believe this is the place we are looking for." The two farm worker robots stopped and turned around. Vector lowered his head and gave the impression of squinting as they saw the word "CENTRAL ARCHIVES." "My goodness! My infra-red vision is on the blink! I should have seen that right away!" "It's because you're getting old!" Hector said. "Then why didn't you see it?" Vector retorted. "You're fifteen years younger than me!" As Cobre watched, he found himself regretting that he had not yet developed the human capacity to laugh. Fifteen centons later, the Cylon was seated at a battered and slightly rusty looking terminal, but one that was still connected to the auxiliary power system of the complex. Vector and Hector proved to be efficient at making sure it was hooked up, leaving Cobre to do the data base searching. The two humanoid robots were soon impressed by how rapid the Cylon was conducting the research, entering several dozen search variants in a matter of several centons. And then, using his own input terminal, Cobre was able to download the data into his own memory banks. "Quite remarkable!" Hector said. "How large is your memory bank capacity?" "As a first brain Cylon, it is unfortunately the most limited of our kind," Cobre said. "We can only store up to one-thousand terra-comps of data to tap into for future use." "One thousand terra......." Hector's eyes widened, "My goodness, that's likely the same as one million of our giga-bytes! And I only have ten thousand!" "And I was first built with the same," Vector was amazed, "Oh....if I only had *your* brain!" "What would you do with such a brain?" Cobre asked as he continued to input. "Humph," Vector pondered, "I certainly wouldn't let myself put it to waste! No whiling away the hours or anything like that! Hector on the other hand......" "I would let myself build the perfect companion for myself!" the younger robot declared. "And together we would start a third generation of even more efficient workers!" "I would offer this advice," the Cylon said, "Speaking as one machine to another. Do not confuse advanced models with greatness. Channeled improperly......it leads to dangerous ambition. All this I see now in those who were in theory, the advanced class of my kind." Cobre then stopped and looked at the screen as he saw a readout that finally looked to be promising. A series of files keyed into the terms SACRED TEXTS, along with ORIGINS OF TERRA. Files that clearly represented books, reports, studies. With titles such as, "Where are the Sacred Texts Now?" Or, "Pontiff Innocent and the Suppression of the Sacred Texts." "Wycliffe and the Sacred Texts." "Terra's Beginnings And The Sacred Texts-Cover Up?" And then, amidst these seemingly straightforward titles, he was intrigued to see one recurring phrase that came up in another set of files. BLACK KNIGHT. "What is the Black Knight?" "Pontiff Innocent and the Suppression of the Black Knight." "The Sacred Texts and the Black Knight." "I think I have found all there is on what my colleagues want," Cobre said as he inputted the data for download. "As soon as I am finished, we can return." "I am glad you have met with success!" Vector said. "Does the term 'Black Knight' have any significance that you know of?" "Black Knight......" the older robot pondered. And then, Hector tapped him on the head. "Father! I seem to recall that is a term officially banned in Terran circles!" "Oh yes. Yes! I remember. Since the days of Pontiff Innocent more than five hundred years ago, that is a term no one must ever speak!" he then put his hand up to his mouth, "Oh my goodness. I said the term. I am perhaps in danger of being deactivated for doing so!" "But Father, Cobre would never tell," the younger robot looked at the Cylon. "Would you?" "Hmmmm," the Cylon seemed to hesitate but then said with a disarming air, "No, I see no reason why I should." "Oh, you are *most* kind!" Vector bowed with gratitude. "But without mentioning it again, perhaps you can explain why such a term is banned in Terran circles?" "I doubt anyone knows any longer," Vector shrugged and then sighed, "Oh, if I only had *the* brain to know." "You already said that!" Hector chimed. "There is a certain rightness in my expressing that!" A chime sounded that told Cobre the download to his memory files was complete. He could not summon instant recall of all of this new data his brain now possessed, but he at least had the means to transfer it to the main computers on the Pegasus so it could be studied and analyzed later by him and his colleagues. He was ready to go now and have Vector and Hector take him back. Infuriating as the two robots could be in some respects, Cobre could truthfully admit to himself that he genuinely liked them......and envied them as well for knowing an existence of peace that no Cylon had ever truly experienced. This is what we Cylons must fight for in choosing the human side against the advanced classes. "Sarah?" Michael asked with an edge of hesitation as he came down the steps into the basement of the house. His wife was on her knees looking at an open storage bin situated. When she heard his voice, she slowly got to her feet and turned around. He could see a look of hesitation similar to his own. "Yes?" "Could we.....talk for a few minutes?" "Where did our guests go?" "Well......they've gone over to the Morelands to have lunch with them and also spend some time with the children. They'll be back in a couple hours." She smiled thinly, "I get the feeling that was on purpose. So you and I could be here all alone and.....talk." "Well.....I think we've both had a chance to learn some things, haven't we?" "Yes," Sarah nodded. "I.....know about Apollo being married now. Kelli told me. And I'm sure Ila told you the same thing." "She did," Michael admitted. "Then that's my cue to apologize to you for bringing his name up all the time," his wife sighed, "I've never been in love with him, Michael. He's.....been more like a character from an old story or video entertainment to me. Some seemingly ideal image of a perfect man I could latch onto when things.....started to go wrong. I'm sorry I did that, Michael." "Hey, I didn't make it easy for you," her husband came up to her, but they still kept a respectful distance. "I.....got a little too stubborn about why we should go back to Lunar Seven after everyone else but the Morelands left. I didn't......think carefully enough about why that place has too many painful memories for you even if it is back in Nationalist hands now." "And I....sort of understand why you thought it would be better for the children to be where there are more people," Sarah's arms were folded, her tone still careful and cautious. "Yes," he nodded, "But.....that doesn't have to be the final matter. As long as the supply ship from Lunar Six keeps coming, then when they're old enough, they can make their own decision on where to live. And.....maybe things will get better and the Nationalists will end up resettling the planet after all." "I hope so," Sarah took a breath, "Maybe.....the Pegasus coming here will help make that possible." "Maybe," he admitted. "For now.....this is our home and we have to make the best of it for ourselves and our children." They said nothing and didn't move for the next minute. Both of them had said what they needed to say, and expressed the need for a new spirit of compromise. But at the same time, neither was willing to open up emotionally at this point or make the first move. Finally, as if both had decided independently at the same instant to make the first move they reached out and came together in a long embrace and kiss. "You've really done an impressive job, Josh" Ila said as the middle-aged farmer finished showing her around his land. "We were reduced to very little after the Alliance destroyed the capitol," Josh Moreland said. "It took a year for the soil to start giving us good yields again. Our neighbors pitched in to help, but......except for Michael and Sarah, they're all gone now. They chose to go back to Lunar Seven." "Why did you stay?" Moreland stopped and looked at her, "Oh....once we saw they were staying, we felt.....kind of obligated to be there for them. My wife Aggie, she's real fond of the children. It.....eases the pain we felt after we lost ours in the Alliance raid." "I'm sorry," Ila said with empathy. "I....lost a son too. I know its not easy to go through something like that." "Not....Apollo?" he frowned. "No. My younger son. I.....didn't even know he was dead until recently." "I see," they resumed walking. "Well.....those children gave us a purpose in life again. I keep hoping that someday, the Nationalist government will reconsider abandoning this planet. It needs people again to thrive. The sounds of families living, and children playing and learning. But.....the President fears the truce can't last." Before Ila could respond to that, her portable com-line sounded. She detached it from the belt around her waist to answer it. "Yes?" "Professor, this is Banker. We just heard from Cobre. They're on their way back from the city." "That's good!" Ila said brightly. "Kelli and I will take the children home and we'll rendezvous there. Hopefully this will mean we can leave soon if he found what we need." She shut off the com-line and looked at the middle-aged farmer with all the kindness she was capable of summoning. "Josh," Ila said, "We may not meet again, but.....it's my hope that before my people leave this region of space, we'll be able to restore some optimism to your life.....and to all Terrans." "God be with you and your people," he felt moved inside. "Thank you, Ila." When they gathered back at Michael and Sarah's home, the information Ila heard from Cobre was enough to confirm that their time on Paradeen had reached an end. Almost immediately they began the process of closing down their operations and saying their final goodbyes to Michael, Sarah and the children. As well as Vector and Hector who were most sorry to see their time working with another type of robot coming to an end.. "I can't thank you enough for your help and your hospitality," Ila said as she stood outside the shuttle. Everyone else had gone "Hey, we can't begin to thank you for arriving here in the nick of time to save us!" Michael said. "It's the least we could do." "Not to mention clearing up other.....loose ends in our lives," Sarah added. Ila nodded in understanding. "I'm glad for that too." "Is there any chance you'll ever see Apollo again?" she asked. Apollo's mother hesitated slightly, "I'm.....hoping that one day we'll be able to communicate. If we're successful, I'll certainly let him know you're doing well." "And we wish him and Starbuck and everyone else on the Galactica our love and prayers," Sarah said. "We'll never forget them.....or you." "Nor will we!" Vector chimed, "Commander Cobre has given us more intellectual stimulation than we've ever given each other!" "Yes," Hector admitted, "We see more clearly now thanks to this experience. How even our own limitations can be......strengths." "And we will learn from that, right Hector?" the older robot put his arm around the younger one. "Right, Vector!" the younger did likewise. "Looks like your coming has mended two families," Michael laughed. "Godspeed on Terra." "The blessings of the Lords be with you," Ila respectfully bowed before entering the shuttle. Michael, Sarah, Vector and Hector all watched as the shuttle started up and slowly moved forward before it picked up momentum and lifted into the sky. They kept their eyes on it until it finally disappeared from view. And only then, did the reality set in that they would never see them or anyone else from the Colonial realm again. Finally, Michael broke the silence. "Time for us to go home." Sarah looked back at her husband and smiled. "To *our* home." Several centars later, the Pegasus had disengaged from orbit about Paradeen and Ila was having a full debriefing with Cain and Tolen. "That's not good news that this.....Leiter person is now in charge of the whole Eastern Alliance," Cain said. "He's clearly a fanatic. And on top of that, he would already know that the Nationalist victory was due entirely to the Galactica's intervention." "And which the majority of the Terran population is ignorant of," Ila said. "That's why when we approach Terra, I think we should do it quietly. Hold the Pegasus back from entering Terra orbit while a shuttle goes in to approach the Nationalist government and President Maxwell." "But wouldn't it make more sense to go in openly?" Tolen was skeptical. "If Leiter knows what the power of a battlestar is capable of, then once we make our presence directly known, that would neutralize any move he could make." "I have to admit, I tend to agree with Colonel Tolen," Cain said. "It'd be simpler to cut to the chase now that we know it's no longer a question of trying to conceal our broader existence from the Alliance leadership. We have to act quickly to head any move of his off, especially if he now has reason to believe a ship just like one he's gone up against before has returned." "I don't presume to be a military strategist," Ila said, "But I don't think that whatever Leiter might plan on that front can be done right away. These ships of theirs if I'm not mistaken don't even go at faster than light speed." "Which doesn't make them any less lethal," Tolen said. "I'm not denying that," Ila kept her tone deferential since she knew she was running the risk of trodding into areas that were outside her natural expertise. Even though she'd gained experience in personal combat and subterfuge missions as a Resistance member in the last three yahrens it still didn't put her in the same category of those who'd been trained as warriors. "What I'm concerned with is if a too-sudden appearance on our part might cause a panic in the Terran population and lead to a fear that unless we stay in the Terra system for good the Nationalists can never feel truly safe." Cain's eyes narrowed, "You mean....because most of the Nationalists don't know it was the Galactica that bailed them out, rather than their own brilliance." "Exactly. At some point, the Nationalists do have to know what the truth is, but we need to ease our way in. And this way we can take care of the other matters we need to talk to the Nationalist leadership about before settling the problem of Leiter and the Alliance." "These so-called 'Sacred Texts,'" Tolen noted. "Yes. I'm convinced we'll learn the Kobollian connection to Terra's settlement if we can get access to them, and I don't think that's going to be easy if we approach them boldly on a war scare footing. If we approach the leadership that already knows of the Galactica like President Maxwell, then we can get those tasks done quickly and move on to the military issues." Cain brought his fingertips together to contemplate. "All right," he said finally, "But this time Ila, I go with you like at Brylon Station. I want to be in a position to talk military matters with their President at the very first meeting while you handle the historical questions on these Sacred Texts and also this.....'Black Knight' that seems to be a taboo subject in their society." "Yes, I think that could very well be the name for whatever provides the direct link to Kobollian settlement of Terra and their development," the Academician nodded. "Then if you're up to it, I suggest you get back to your reading, Professor," Cain smiled thinly. "Thanks for your report." Ila returned the smile as she rose and bowed respectfully before departing, leaving Cain alone with his Executive Officer. "Should we set course for Terra?" Tolen asked. "Yes," Cain nodded, "Not.....at full speed though. I want to give Ila some time to go over those monographs. Plus, this way we might be able to tell if the Alliance is doing any kind of mass-gathering of their forces that we should. If we can reach the system in no more than two to three cycles, that should be sufficient." "But when we reach the Terra system, what do we do?" "We keep a respectful distance so we can send out a shuttle with Ila and me. Viper escort will be necessary only until we make contact with the Nationalist authority. As soon as I mention the name of Apollo, that should convince them who we are and they won't act hostile." "I still don't like it, Commander," Tolen said. "If the Pegasus goes in boldly, then there's no question of anything going wrong in terms of receiving you and Ila as emissaries. But if you're just going in by yourselves, then even with a viper escort, there's still the potential for things to go wrong." "Yes, I'm concerned about that too, Tolen," Cain admitted, "But Ila's point about how the population would react can't be ignored. Short-term, it would work for us, but long-term it could end up backfiring. One thing we can't do is let the Nationalist population think we have to stay permanently because they'd think our presence is the only way of insuring their war with the Alliance doesn't flare up again." "Granted," the Executive Officer acknowledged, "Still....." "It's not the idea of being left in command, is it, Tolen?" the Juggernaut half-smiled at him. "I know this wouldn't be like when Ila and I went over to Brylon Station." "That does concern me, sir. But *not* because I'm afraid of the responsibility." The smile widened a fraction, "I didn't think so, Tolen. And I do trust you to act wisely in my absence if you have to," he turned his chair away from him, "Set course for Terra." "Sit down, Canaris," Leiter said. "This is a matter of the highest urgency." The director of Intelligence for the Alliance tried not to show any trace of uneasiness as he sat down across from the Supreme Commandant. He was one of the few members of the previous Supreme Commandant's inner circle who had escaped execution in Leiter's rise to power, but he was smart enough to know that he would always be watched with suspicion. "As you know, I decided you were not to blame for the intelligence failure that led to the debacle of our defeat two years ago," Leiter's tone was pleasant. "As I saw it, you could not be held responsible given that you were denied access to the most vital piece of information that could have prevented that. The information that I had, but which Group Commandant Kronstadt prevented me from reporting because he foolishly chose not to believe me and instead had me and my men wrongly imprisoned." "I appreciate your generous act of mercy, Supreme Commandant," Canaris bowed his head slightly. "But my mercy can disappear quickly," the pleasantness abruptly changed to sternness. "In order to insure your continued receipt of mercy from me, Canaris, I expect your organization to make no mistakes. Especially now that things are about to change dramatically." "What do you wish?" he kept his tone even. "It's my understanding you have been making considerable use of the son of President Maxwell's closest advisor." "Yes," Canaris said. "Ronald Moore, whose father Art Moore was chief of staff to President Arends and was retained by President Maxwell to appease the political opposition." "I thought so," Leiter nodded, "How were you able to recruit him?" "His weakness for the fair sex," Canaris shifted his legs since he was feeling more relaxed. "One of our top operatives, Tricia Halper has made him her special project." "And has his information been reliable?" "Completely. He has learned to make his father open up in ways that are considered normal family conversation. Mr. Moore naturally doesn't reveal everything that is classified, but in the presence of his son, he is considerably looser than he would be with anyone else." Leiter brought his hands together. "Events may be moving in a direction where his assistance becomes imperative. I want you to instruct this operative who plies her trade on him, Miss.....Halper is it?" "Yes." "Tell her that we need to know from him if President Maxwell will be receiving some very important emissaries in the near future. And if so, he *must* find out where they will meet. Otherwise......he is no longer of any use to us." Canaris's eyebrows arched slightly, "Supreme Commandant, I......" "Do not question my order, Canaris," Leiter said coldly. "This is what I want, and this is what you are to find out. If no such meeting is going to take place, then fine. But if one is....I expect you to get him to tell us where it is, or he is to be killed. If he can't provide us with information when it is *really* needed, then there's no point utilizing him any further." Trying not to show any reluctance, the intelligence chief nodded. "Will there be anything else, Supreme Commandant?" "No," Leiter dismissively waved his hand, "That will be all." As soon as Canaris was gone, the Supreme Commandant was summoning the next person he wanted to see, namely Group Commandant Kontarsky, head of the Alliance Army for Terra operations. His next instructions would be as blunt and unyielding as those he had just given Canaris. "I want you to have your best commando operatives made ready for the most important mission of their lives." Chapter Five "We'll be within the outer edge of Terra's system in another centar, Commander," Major Ham reported as Cain entered the bridge and made his way to the upper deck. "Bring all engines to stop for now," Cain said. "Kylie, come join us up here." "Yes sir," the helm officer inputted the order to bring the battlestar to a virtual stop and got up from her station to join the commander and the senior bridge officer on the upper deck in front of the navigation board. "All right, Kylie," Cain said. "Summarize this system in full." Standing rigidly at attention, as she always did in Cain's presence, the brunette woman looked up at the board. "Three planets, of which Terra is the first one. Terra has two satellite moons with atmospheres which correspond to Lunar One and Lunar Two on the Paradeen charts. Planet two, which is called Jove, consists of three satellite moons that are inhabited, Lunar Three, Four and Five, while the outermost planet, Chronus, is where Lunar Six and Lunar Seven are located." "And the current orbital paths of Jove and Chronus?" Cain was always impressed by her thoroughness. It was that efficiency that made Cain see her as indispensable among Bridge personnel and why he'd reluctantly turned down Ila's request that Kylie be given the task of looking after the children of Wallis and Kelli during their work periods. He understood that there was a bond that existed between Kylie and the children because of that period when he'd been forced to make her a spur of the moment family member in order to avoid any unpleasantness with the Zykonians, but he couldn't let sentiment dictate the choices of assignments now. He needed Kylie on the Bridge and no place else. "Current orbital paths of both planets are parallel, though Jove's moves at a faster rate. The parallel positions will last for the next sectar, roughly." "So it's possible then to approach Terra by staying entirely clear of *all* of the satellite colonies from Lunar One to Lunar Seven?" "Yes, sir," Kylie nodded. "All we have to do is follow a trajectory to Terra from this heading," she pointed to the lower left side of the board. "Input course to that heading immediately, Kylie." "Yes sir," she nodded and returned to her station to carry out the order. "Thoughts, Major?" Cain turned to the Senior Bridge Officer. "Shouldn't we have a patrol move ahead of us to make sure these outposts aren't patrolling along this heading?" "I'm still debating that," Cain said. "I would like to keep all vipers in reserve at this point. And what I don't want to see happen is a situation where if one viper runs into an Alliance ship, a skirmish breaks out. But if an Alliance ship sees us barreling through, they're not likely to make a move on us." "But you'd lose the surprise element." "Well the Alliance probably already knows of our existence at this point. It's the general population of Terra I'm trying to keep shielded for the time being." "Sending one viper out ahead of us just to make sure we'd have a clear path along this heading would still be more prudent," Ham said. "A course heading way out of the orbital paths of all the satellite colonies is the sort of place the Alliance might want to practice war games or some other military exercise where their forces could be concentrated." Cain looked at the major and smiled, "That's two votes I've heard for sending an advance scout, although the Colonel offered some other compelling reasons. I'll consider yours the tipping vote on the subject, Major. Thank you for your input." "Yes sir," Ham politely bowed. He was flattered that Cain had sought his input on this matter since it wasn't something the Juggernaut ordinarily did with him. But over the last two sectars, ever since the arrival of Ila, he'd seen how different Cain had become. Whereas before, Cain would just push ahead with what he wanted to do and expect only total deference in response, now someone like himself or Tolen could speak openly and be treated with respect whether Cain followed the advice or not. "Get one viper launched, but it has to be someone with a sergeant rank. He's to do a general scan ahead and then make a beeline back to us," Cain said, "I'll be in Dr. Arnoff's lab. Resume space normal speed toward Terra in the meantime." Ronald sat on the bench in the Capitoline Park waiting . Tricia's cryptic phone call the previous night telling him to wait for her to come by the next day where she'd leave something for him, had left him with that mixture of euphoric anticipation and panic that his meetings with the stunning blonde woman always left him with. He knew how dangerous his situation was and how it was like walking a tightrope above a canyon, but the exhilaration always won out over common sense with Ronald. Leading him to take the risk again and again to the point where he knew he doubted he could walk away from it all even if he wanted to. That was how much Tricia meant to him. He saw her approach the bench. Dressed more conservatively than usual in a brown coat that covered her entire body from neck to knees, but which often meant that underneath the coat she likely wasn't wearing much. She said nothing as she sat next to him and from the right pocket of her coat pulled out a thin card that he knew immediately was a pass-card for a hotel room. "Room 1203," she whispered while looking straight ahead the whole while. "In twenty minutes." And then she got up and walked away, leaving the nervous young man alone. When he picked up the pass-card, he felt it slip out of his fingers and fall to the ground, and he realized that was because his palms had been sweating the whole time. Twenty minutes later, he was opening the door to room 1203 of Tower East in the Sky Plaza Hotel, one of Lemuria's finest. As soon as the door had closed behind him he right away saw her standing before him with her coat off and proving his instinct regarding how little she'd been wearing underneath. A wicked seductive smile was her only communication as she came toward him. Twenty minutes after that, he lay next to her in a state of exhaustion. The usual result of how much energy was always expended by them both. Producing fulfillment for him that he knew he was never going to get from any other woman in his life. Which was why he couldn't bear the thought of giving up his life of betraying his father and his nation for the Alliance. A clear conscience seemed to matter less to Ronald than the thought of going the rest of his life without the fulfillment of carnal pleasures that Tricia had given him as the reward for betraying his father and his nation. "Now then," the Alliance spy purred softly as she ran her finger over his chest, "It's time for your instruction period." Despite his glazed, submissive expression, he took in every word she had to say to him. And then, he frowned with the air of a child who had just heard the teacher give a lesson he didn't understand. "I don't understand," he said, genuinely confused, "What is it I'm supposed to listen for?" "I will clarify this only once," the affection disappeared from her voice as she rolled herself so she was on top of him and totally pinned down. "The Alliance expects your father and President Maxwell to be contacted by some......important people at some point. Your job is to notify us when it happens and where any meeting will take place." "But.....with who? And how could I possibly get my father to talk about something like *that*?" "Be the loyal, understanding son he thinks you are," Tricia said. "Make him feel.....comfortable revealing things to you just as he's done in the past. That's surely not difficult for you, is it, Ronald?" "I----," but he could go no further as he felt the force of her knee against his chest. "I'm counting on you, Ronald," she said softly but with an underlying edge of menace. "If you disappointed me......it would be very bad for you. Make me proud of you, Ronald." All he could do was submissively nod. "Good afternoon, Commander," Dr. Arnoff said as he saw the Juggernaut enter. "You're just in time to see our latest testing of Zykonian teleportation technology." He pointed to a lab table where a waste receptacle had been placed in the center. Positioned some ten feet above the table from a specially constructed ceiling mount was a circular device with a laser tipped nozzle at the center. "I hadn't realized you were about to run a test, Doctor, but naturally I'm interested," Cain said. "Up to now, we've only used it on small items like a stylus," the Electronics Scientist went over to a console on the far side. "Now we're attempting something larger. Centurion Festus is standing by on Delta Deck." Arnoff pressed a switch and a humming sound emanated from the ceiling mount. Cain looked up expecting to see a beam of light or something similar, but all he saw was a tiny blue burst from the nozzle......and then the waste receptacle disappeared abruptly. The scientist then picked up his com-line, "Festus, this is Dr. Arnoff. Has it appeared?" There was no immediate response. "Festus?" Arnoff repeated with concern. "A most unforeseen complication, Doctor," the human sounding voice of the Cylon filled the room. "The object began to materialize right where I was standing. The effect was like that of being struck violently and it caused me to fall down." "Is the object whole?" "It is whole," the Cylon reported. "The object did not fuse with me, as we were concerned might happen in case an object should materialize within another object occupying the same space. I would seem to have unintentionally proved that is not a danger factor." "That is good to know," Arnoff was relieved. "Report back to the Lab." "By your command." Arnoff switched off the com-line and looked back at Cain who was staring with bemusement at him. "Dr. Arnoff," he said, "I sincerely hope that was an *unintentional* result and that you weren't putting Festus at risk." "There was no intent on my part to have it materialize in the exact same spot Festus was standing," Arnoff said. "But I freely admit the reason he is the one conducting the receiving tests is because of the risk factor to humans if transport of a solid object were to materialize in the same spot a human was occupying. Eventually I would have performed a transport test to confirm this theory, but......the Lords seem to have done us a favor by giving us this outcome that answers the question." "So does this mean you'll soon be ready to try this on a human being?" Arnoff shook his head, "We still need to run a lot more tests, but......the result of this test puts us a lot closer to that than I expected us to be." "You're doing good, Doctor," Cain gave an affirmative wave of his swagger stick, "The Professor is in the next room?" "Yes, she and Commander Cobre have been analyzing the Paradeen data." Cain entered the adjoining computer work room. Ila was seated in front of one monitor while the command centurion stood by one on the opposite side of the room. When she became aware of Cain's presence, she looked up at him with a bright smile. "I hope that's a sign you've found a big breakthrough," Cain said. "I wish," Ila sighed, "The problem with a scholarly monograph is that when it's talking about a text you don't have access to and more importantly that the *author* doesn't have access to, you're mostly ending up with a lot of speculation and second-hand material. These particular monographs that were in the Paradeen Archives were clearly written long after the so-called 'Sacred Texts' were suppressed by the Holy Authority of Terra, their so-called Supreme Pontiff approximately......five hundred yahrens ago." "There aren't any second-hand recopying of the Texts?" "No," she shook her head, "Most of this is really about the contemporary politics of the time when Supreme Pontiff Innocent issued his edicts. It seemed to happen at a time when Terran society was about the rough equivalent of.....oh, probably the third to early fourth millennia if you want to compare it to the state of where the Colonies were." Cain's eyebrows knotted, "That would mean we're talking about a time period that would be very primitive." "And that tells us one thing. If the settlement was Kobollian, then clearly these settlers did the same thing the settlers of the Colonies did, and that was to largely destroy Kobollian technology and start anew." "How can you be sure?" Ila motioned over to Cobre who stepped forward to speak. "General history works of Terra that talk of its ancient civilizations more than several millennia ago, reveal a society that did not possess basic levels of technology," the command centurion said. "If the advanced technology of Kobol did exist in its early days, it was clearly limited or surely Terra would have evolved to a point parallel to or ahead of Colonial civilization." "But it may not have been forgotten up to the time the texts were suppressed," Ila said. "If I were to form some theories at this point, the best one I can come up with is that the suppression of the Sacred Texts from all but the Supreme Pontiffs correlates to when the knowledge of Kobol itself became suppressed in Terran civilization. And that would explain why when the Galactica discovered Terran civilization, the inhabitants had no conception of their origins and their common ancestral tie with Colonial civilization." "Then does that make the prospects of Kobollian technology existing somewhere even in Terra, poor?" Cain asked. Ila looked back at her monitor and sighed, "I'd say yes.....but for this curious thing called the 'Black Knight.' Apparently, in the period leading up to the suppression of the Sacred Texts, the term was used quite commonly. Surviving texts that these monograph authors refer to, indicate that it seemed to describe some kind of......Oracle that not only religious leaders drew from, but early secular leaders of Terra as well." "An Oracle," Cain was perplexed. "Of what kind?" The blonde Academician threw up her hands, "All these monograph authors do is speculate. Apparently the banning of that term and making it a heretical offense to even utter it was also tied to a total suppression of all contemporaneous documents about the Black Knight and whatever advice it dispensed. We're literally talking about a total erasure from history of anything tangible to indicate it ever existed......but for the memories of some scholars and some indirect references that these monograph authors drew from." Cain folded his arms, "You think this 'Black Knight' could refer to something Kobollian that they were utilizing?" "I think there has to be a connection," Ila said. "Let's assume the religious leaders always knew about the planet's origins. Let's assume that this Oracle was.....some kind of Kobollian technology from the mother world that allowed them to shape Terran society......and then for whatever reason......they decided it was too dangerous to keep relying on it. It's only a theory based on an incomplete study, but it's certainly a theory I can present to the Terran leadership and hope it gets us some results." "So you think you've gone as far as you can with this material in advance of leaving for Terra." "I think so," she said, "Barring the discovery of anything unexpected in the next few centars." "In that case, get some rest. As soon as our advance scout assures us our course heading to Terra is clear and once we're in close shuttling range, we're leaving." She rose and stretched her arms, "I thank you for your thoughtfulness." "The human need for something wasteful as sleep," Cobre sighed, "Think of how much more you could have accomplished as a race if you had all the extra time you spend sleeping." "At least we get the benefit of pleasant dreams, Cobre," Ila chuckled. "In fact, a colleague of yours from the command centurion class, Commander Vulpa, once told me that he envied our creative capacity to dream. It was something that would have made his deactivation period less.....intolerable." "Hmmm, yes, I would have to agree with my colleague there, considering that I spent twelve yahrens in deactivation and recall only emptiness," Cobre conceded. "But for now, we appreciate your ability to keep working around the clock, Cobre," Cain said with appreciation. "You may notify us in case something else of interest turns up." "Of course," Cobre bowed politely. Once Cain and Ila had left the lab and were out in the corridor she turned to him and asked, "You should probably get some rest too." "I intend to," he said, "This is going to be a lot more important than Brylon Station was." "Then I hope you have some relaxing dreams until then," Ila sighed, "I....had an unusual one last night." "Oh?" Cain lifted an eyebrow. "What kind?" "Nothing bad. It was pleasant in a way but.....it was unusual," she said, "I.....thought I saw.....Adama talking with Sheba and Apollo and the funny thing is......Apollo looked different. He'd.....grown a beard and looked more like an ancient Kobollian warrior. But I still knew it was him, just the same." Cain let out a chuckle, "Beards aren't regulation, last I checked. Of course dreams can sometimes make you see people in ways they don't ordinarily look. They can sometimes seem surreal and disjointed from reality." "Maybe," Ila shrugged, "But.....the setting was very normal and realistic. Adama was Adama. And.....Sheba looks exactly like Bethany, doesn't she? Except for the eyes?" "Yes," the mirth in Cain faded. "You.....wouldn't have known that instinctively, though." "I suppose not, but.....that's how she looked. And the setting was right. So.....I had a sense that I was witnessing something of them talking, and it was all kind of low and hard to make out, but......before I woke up I got the distinct impression......." she trailed off. "What?" Cain was frowning now. Ila sighed, "It sounds silly, but.....I got the impression they were talking about me." The frown disappeared and they resumed walking, "Well......that's not too surprising." "No, no," she shook her head, "I mean....they were talking about.....knowing that I might be alive. I even heard one of them mention my being inside a shuttle and being found by the Pegasus." He stopped again, but tried to look unfazed, "Well....you and I, we.....both want to talk to them again to let them know we're alive. A little....self-projection I suppose." "That's what I'd normally think," Ila said, "If it weren't for seeing Apollo looking so different. I don't understand why I'd see him that way, unless that's really how he looks now." Cain decided he needed to break the mood, "I'll tell you what," he smiled, "Let's make a wager on whether Apollo's grown a beard or not and on the day we make contact with them, we'll know who won." His in-law laughed, "What are the stakes?" "That I'll need to think about," he admitted. "How about if he has, then you have to grow one too?" she couldn't resist asking. "Ha! Good Lords of Kobol, not a chance!" Cain laughed. They parted when they reached her quarters, her mood lightened by their talk. Cain told her that he'd ring her telecom as soon as it was time for them to leave the Pegasus for Terra. I wonder, she thought as she lay down to catch some rest. Is it possible that.....Adama and Apollo and Sheba are being prepared somehow to know the truth? So that when it finally happens, it won't be such a shock? And then, she had fallen asleep. Leaving those questions unanswered for now. Chapter Six As the closest satellite colony to Terra, Lunar One's importance to both the Nationalists and Eastern Alliance had long been recognized throughout the many centuries of conflict. On numerous occasions it had changed hands as a result of fighting and truces, but of late it had taken on significance for being evenly divided between the two warring factions following the truce that had been agreed to, two years before. The Nationalist base operated on the side that perpetually faced Terra while the Alliance occupied the "dark side" of Lunar One (a misnomer since Lunar One always received equal amounts of sunlight in the course of a day). Commanding the Nationalist garrison on Lunar One was considered to be one of the highest responsibilities in the Nationalist armed services. It meant staying on top of Alliance military activities outside Terra to insure they were honoring Treaty obligations, and watching for the slightest sign of deviation from it. The slightest misstep could very well result in the truce disappearing in an instant. General Charles Watts, the garrison commander, understood all too well the responsibility he carried. And because he also happened to be the son-in-law of President Robert Maxwell, he also knew how subject he was to greater scrutiny. There were still many, including supporters of Maxwell, who saw his appointment as the cheapest form of nepotism. That meant he had to prove his doubters wrong by proving himself in ways that went way beyond what would have been deemed acceptable for any other man. In order to succeed, he'd been warned that he'd need to rein in his penchant for the unorthodox. He had never been a by-the-book type officer in the Nationalist Special Forces, and as a commander he wasn't about to change his ways. That was why he encouraged his platoon leaders to do their field exercises as close as they dared to the boarders that separated Nationalist from Alliance territory. And why scout patrol flyers were always told to begin their de-orbital burns over the "dark side" of Lunar One and allow them to get photographic surveys of alliance bases that under treaty, they were not allowed to get by orbiting satellites. He knew that carried a risk that a scout patrol might get shot down, in what the Alliance would simply refer to as an "unfortunate accident". So that meant drilling his scout flyers into making sure they knew how to do the de-orbit mission precisely to avoid getting shot down. The book would have told him to tell the flyers to never do a de-orbit burn over the dark side. But as far as Watts was concerned, the book could go to Hell. Especially when he had as much firsthand experience as to how brutal and ruthless the Alliance was. Grateful as he was for the favorable truce that had been in place the last two years, he also knew how fragile it really was. It required looking for every extra inch possible to find out what the Alliance was up to. That also included monitoring communications traffic to see what the Alliance was saying among themselves. The garrison on Lunar One boasted one of the most sophisticated and extensive communications divisions manned by over two hundred operators on a round the clock basis so that nothing that was sent over Alliance channels was missed. From the most innocuous messages sent in the clear to the sensitive coded and scrambled transmissions they were all picked up, recorded and analyzed on both Lunar One and by the Nationalist Intelligence Agency (NIA) on Terra. He had reached the part of the day where he left his office to make a routine inspection of the communications center. Five shifts of forty each over the course of a single work day without let-up. Disciplined and trained to listen for anything. Watts knew and understood how tedious the work could be which was why he'd insisted on having the division work in five shorter shifts of forty rather than four shifts of fifty. Giving these men enough down time to unwind would keep them on their toes. Not that Lunar One had a lot to offer in terms of entertainment, he had to admit. He'd seen to it that the base had added more amenities to make the environment of Lunar One less dull, but he also knew that it could never be a true substitute for living on Terra. That was why his wife Brenda, President Maxwell's daughter, didn't live permanently with him at the base and frequently spent stretches of several weeks to two months at home on Terra. It wasn't because of any real strain in their marriage, but more of what Watts saw as a way of preventing strain from developing. Life on Lunar outposts had never been the best for service marriages, and with so much importance riding on the success of Lunar One as a command listening post, the last thing Watts wanted or needed was a strain in his marriage caused by Brenda's lack of access to Terra and her father, who had his greater strain to deal with as President. Rotating back and forth every two months had proved to be the ideal solution. Brenda might have distrusted him in the old days before their marriage, but that was then. There was no question now of Charlie Watts' devotion to his wife that he could easily handle the periodic separations. "Sir?" a technician at one of the stations suddenly put his hand to his earpiece and looked up as Watts passed by. "Sir, I'm getting a very unusual transmission on sublight frequency." The general stopped and came over to his terminal, "Is this scrambled or in the clear?" "It's in the clear, sir, and......it's not an Alliance transmission or one of ours!" "How can that be?" Watts frowned, "Put it on speaker." "......-tention. To any representative of the Nationalist Government of Terra, please acknowledge our signal immediately. Repeat, please acknowledge our signal immediately, this is a matter of high importance." "Where is this coming from?" Watts couldn't believe he was hearing a message like this. The only ships that operated in this region were military ones, and even if it was a civilian prospecting or supply ship headed for the Outer Colonies, it wouldn't be delivering a message like that. "It's coming from a heading vector eight-three-four toward Terra. Based on its current trajectory it would be out of range of Lunar One." "But it's close enough for their transmissions to be heard by us, and presumably the Alliance base too," Watts found this news confusing and alarming. "Should we answer them, sir?" the technician inquired. Watts clenched his fist. Standard procedure would have meant calling Flight Operations and ordering the immediate scrambling of a scout patrol vessel. But so much time would be wasted getting one of them into position, especially if the source of this transmission was on a vector heading that would take them well clear of Lunar One but put them on course for Terra. And if he could hear this, chances were the Alliance listening post was hearing this too. "Give it to me," Watts picked up the small microphone transmitter, "Attention, unknown craft, this is Lunar One base operations. Identify yourself." There was a pause and the male voice answered, "Lunar One, identify yourself please." He wants me to identify what side I'm on. Should I come to the point or make him sweat? "Unknown craft, I think you owe us an explanation first." "I'm not going to waste time talking to you when I don't know who I'm dealing with," the male voice snapped. "I can always proceed to Terra and hope I hear a more cooperative voice." "You proceed to Terra without clearance and proper identification, you do so at your own risk," Watts decided he wasn't going to be so easily accommodating. "Why do you want to speak only to a Nationalist representative?" "Are you asking because you're with the Alliance?" the male voice retorted. "Maybe I am and maybe I'm not," the general found himself enjoying this. Whoever this person was, he certainly had attitude. "Whatever I'd tell you, you'd just have to take my word for it, wouldn't you? Just like I'd have to take your word for whoever you say you are." "Then I guess this is a standoff," there was an edge in the voice that made Watts guess that whoever was speaking was smirking. "I'm going to assume though that whether you're trying to be helpful or tricking me, the only answer you could give me is that you're on the Nationalist side." "I guess you've figured that right," Watts couldn't help but smirk in return. "You're speaking incidentally to General Charles Watts, commander of the Nationalist garrison on Lunar One." There was a pause that lasted twenty seconds and then suddenly the voice said, "General Watts......are you acquainted with a couple on Paradeen named Michael and Sarah?" The general froze as he heard this news. There were very few people who would have made that kind of connection to him. And most of them could only have come from one location. There was only one way he could prove that. "Unknown craft," he said calmly. "Before I answer that, please identify the meaning of the name Apollo." There was another pause followed by the man's voice, "Captain Apollo of the Battlestar Galactica......who happens to be my son-in-law." Oh my God, Watts thought to himself. They've come back! "Unknown craft," he kept his voice calm. "I am convinced of your identity. I recommend you maintain radio silence for the time being until you are contacted again." "Affirmative." And with that, Watts put the microphone down and turned to the technician. "Priority One message to Central Flight Operations on Terra and tell them to get me hooked up to the President on secure circuit immediately. I'll take it in my office." "Yes, sir!" "Well, that seemed to go well," Ila observed as Cain continued to fly the shuttle on course toward Terra. "We caught a lucky break," the Juggernaut admitted, "The fact that it was that Watts person you said helped Michael and Sarah." "Yes," Ila nodded, "They told me that Watts was the operative who helped them escape from Lunar Seven originally, and apparently later he played some role in connection with what happened when the truce was reached, though they weren't sure about the details there." "Well he clearly knows who Apollo is, and that helps," Cain sighed, "I know that was taking a big risk broadcasting in the clear, because the Alliance likely heard the same thing and could have played a trick on us. Of course if they had, then we would have recognized one of their ships immediately and our escort would have had a surprise for them." "You had to take the risk," Ila said and then smiled, "Besides, after seeing you play things so conservatively to avoid fighting the Risiks and the Ziklagis, it's nice to see you go back to your usual self." "Ha!" he laughed. "All right, let's stay on course. And we keep the viper escort with us until we know we're being brought in for a safe landing in Nationalist territory." On the dark side of Lunar One, in an Eastern Alliance military base and in a communications center not unlike the one in the Nationalist garrison, a uniformed technician also wearing a headset was listening in and frowning at the conversation he had just heard. Wasting little time, he put his headset down and informed the duty officer that he needed to speak to the Group Commandant immediately. By the time Watts reached his office, his aide was telling him that the President was on the line via the secure hook-up from Terra. Lunar One, as the closest colony to Terra was the only one where such instant communication was possible and Watts thanked God it was so. "Charlie, this better be good," his father-in-law's voice came through clear. "Mr. President," he said with total seriousness. "I think our old friends the Colonials have returned." The brief pause meant that the Nationalist President had been caught off-guard by that. "You're sure of that?" "There are two unknown craft headed for Terra right now and too fast for us to intercept. We picked up a transmission and they were requesting to speak to Nationalist authority. One of them flying knows who Captain Apollo is and he specifically mentioned the Galactica." There was still some hesitation. "Leiter knows about them too, Charlie. It could easily be a trap from their end." "I don't think so, Mr. President. I think it's on the level. He even said he's Apollo's father-in-law. Someone trying to pull a hoax wouldn't use that kind of connection, he'd say something like his father, or his brother." "Yeah, that's a good point," the President conceded. "At any rate, it's something that'll have to be handled on your end. I've told Central Flight Operations that they're coming in but you'll need to have them coordinate matters from here on in." "All right, I'll get on that. Thanks for the heads-up, Charlie. You're doing a good job." "Thank you, Mr. President." Make sure you say that to Brenda, he thought as he hung up. Arthur Moore warily entered his downtown Lemuria apartment which was located within walking distance of the Presidium. The death of his wife, six years earlier, had made him give up the spacious home in the suburban community of Oceana that they'd raised their only child in because it had too many memories he couldn't escape. And because that came at a time when he had just begun serving President Arends as chief of staff, he'd found that being surrounded by memories of his absent wife were a hindrance. Arends expected him to be blunt with his advice and to show ruthlessness when necessary. A chief of staff in perpetual mourning wasn't going to be able to do that. Not that the bastard ever listened much to me anyway, he thought. I was more of a sounding board for him to vent his goals and dreams of making a deal with the Alliance no matter how much of our pride and honor we gave away in the process. Maxwell at least is more of a genuine listener. He then noticed that the lights were already on inside his apartment, which could only mean one thing since just one other person had a key. "Ronald?" he called cautiously. His son entered from the foyer from the kitchen area. The face that thankfully had more of his mother than of him. "Hi, Dad," Ronald said. "Sorry I didn't give you a heads-up I'd be here." "That's all right, it's always good to see you," Moore knew this had to mean something because his son seldom came by to his apartment. Their meetings were almost always over restaurant lunches and dinners. Even so, he'd always made sure Ronald had a key to his apartment. His way of trying to let his son know the door was always open to him. "What brings you here?" Moore sat down in his comfortable chair. "I'm sorry to impose, Dad, but......I need to stay here for a bit." "What's wrong?" his father lifted an eyebrow. "Nothing serious," he looked him in the eye, "I just decided I'd had it living in East Lemuria. It's too out of the way for me and I'd rather be closer to my office than take the air-tran into downtown each day." "I see," his father said. "How is work? I know being a solicitor with his own office instead of working for a firm has its risks." "The work's the same. It's just a matter of convenience." He spoke the lie with total conviction. The truth was that as a private solicitor, Ronald had very few actual clients. His primary source of income came from his work as a spy on behalf of the Alliance. Arthur Moore took a breath, "Ronald.....you know that if you ever need any recommendations from me with any soliciting firm in Lemuria or even anywhere else in the Federal States, I'm happy to give it. I know how much you want to make it on your own without any help from me, but......" "I appreciate that, Dad," he put all the sincerity he could into his voice, "I'm not ready to close the door on what I'm doing, but.....if I ever change my mind about that, I wouldn't hesitate to ask for your help." "Does it leave you much time for anything else?" his concern grew. "For friends and.....relationships?" "I do what I can," he said simply. But he injected an underlying tone that indicated he wasn't going to be more open about that. To his relief, his father decided not to press. "Well.....any way, I'm glad to have you here as long as you need to be. In fact......I'm really glad you've come by for now, Ronald, because......things are getting a lot more rough and it's making me a lot more......uneasy." "In what ways?" he asked in a way that was meant to show familial concern. "Well......you know I can't be too specific, but......there is a lot of concern that the Alliance is going to act somewhere, somehow, and none of us seem to have a handle on how they can do it. We know their military position isn't as strong as it was before the treaty, but with Leiter running things now, we know an aggressive move is coming. But how is he going to do it? Politically? Psychologically? Sudden military action and daring us to respond? No one can agree on anything it seems like." He shook his head sadly, "You know how much I wanted to see this whole thing work, and for people like you and everyone else your age to not have to grow up in a world full of war, and anxiety and terror, but......I just can't help but think we're sliding back towards that." "What can you do?" his son asked. "What can I do?" Arthur Moore sighed. "All I can do is keep giving advice and being a sounding board until this President tells me my services are no longer needed. Unless I decide I've had enough and it's time for me to quit." He then looked thoughtfully at Ronald. "Maybe your coming here is a sign that it is time for me to quit, Ronald. Maybe I've just been at this game too long and it's time for me to think more of.....spending time with you and with good friends." "Come on Dad," he said disarmingly, "You love this whole game too much. If you couldn't be part of the political scene, you'd be totally lost." "Would I?" "I think so," he said, trying not to show any tension. If his father decided to leave government service then his value to the Alliance would be over. And that would also mean his life might well be over. His phone on the end table rang and he reached over to answer it, "Yes?" "Art, I need you back here immediately. In fact, whatever you have planned is off because we'll be going to the Retreat." "Mr. President, I don't think this is the time for you, or me for that matter, to be taking a vacation----," "This isn't a vacation, Art," Maxwell cut in coldly. "It's going to be a top level conference. I can't tell you with who until you get over here, but get packed because we could be there a while. Have yourself ready in fifteen minutes, because I'm sending a staff car over to your building to pick you up." "I understand, Mr. President," the chief of staff said with resignation. Throughout the exchange, Ronald hadn't taken his eyes off his father. Inside, an inner instinct was telling him that this was it. The matter that his entire future was resting on had just come up. "I'm sorry, Ronald," Arthur Moore said as he hung up. "I'll be leaving soon." "The Retreat?" he took a stab in the dark, since the reference to a vacation likely meant the place President Maxwell was known to spend his 'getaway' time at. "Yes, the Retreat," his father sighed. "For whatever reason, I don't know. He says it could be awhile." He then looked thoughtfully at this son, "I'm almost tempted to tell him that I'm resigning now. I'd really prefer to just.....spend some more time with you. We....haven't done enough of that these last few years, Ronald." "This is hardly the time to think about that, Dad," Ronald said. "No, I guess not," he shrugged. "I suppose I should pack. You're.....free to stay here while I'm gone of course." "Of course." Fifteen minutes later, his father had one suitcase ready and then as if on cue, the door chime to his apartment had sounded indicating that the security officers had arrived. Ronald bade his father goodbye and promised to see him when he returned. As soon as the door had closed, Ronald waited fifteen seconds before picking up the phone to dial Room 1203 of Tower East in the Sky Plaza Hotel. "Attention Colonial ships. This is General LeMahieu of Central Flight Operations for the Nationalist Government of Terra. Our satellite now confirms your approach and recommends you lock onto coordinates of our signal for your eventual landing on Terra." "Stand by, Central Flight Operations," Cain made an adjustment and looked at the signal's heading, which he then cross-checked with the maps of Terra that came from the Paradeen archives. He smiled in satisfaction and then radioed back, "I have your signal and we are locked. We estimate landing at your coordinates in......thirty centons from now." There was a brief pause and then the voice of General LeMahieu replied quizzically, "Exactly what is a centon?" Cain was taken off-guard by the question. As he tried to think of a response, Ila leaned over and said, "They use the ancient Gemonese term. Minutes." "Oh," he nodded and keyed in, "Ah, thirty......minutes?" "I copy," the General sounded relieved. "We'll provide safe escort for the both of you." "Just one of us, General," Cain said, "Our escort will be returning to our home base. We look forward to meeting you." "Affirmative." Cain then switched frequencies, "Captain Skyler, this is Cain. Return to the Pegasus immediately. Inform Colonel Tolen that all is proceeding normally." "Affirmative, Commander." From the back of the shuttle, Lieutenant Bryce, who was accompanying them as security escort, uneasily rose, "Um, Commander, I-----?" "You have to something to ask, Lieutenant?" Cain didn't turn around. "It better not be about matters that don't fall in your jurisdiction." The security officer immediately resumed his seat, "Sorry, I forgot what I was going to say." "No problem," Cain allowed himself a smile which Ila also joined in. They both knew the lieutenant wanted to ask about the viper escort being dismissed, but Ila had known from the outset that Cain had a sound reason for doing so once friendly contact was established. It made no sense for a viper to waste time and fuel on a needless circling patrol given that discussions could last for some time. And we do have a lot to talk about, the Academician thought. "Sir, an important dispatch has come from Lemuria!" General Canaris, the Alliance Intelligence Chief looked at the message his aide had just handed him. It was from Tricia Halper with important news that she had just learned from the young man who had been her primary target for some time. Maxwell has summoned Moore for urgent meeting at his official Retreat. He looked at it for more than a minute and found himself thinking about more than just the message's basic information. "General?" his aide still stood at attention. Canaris didn't look up at him as he kept looking at the dispatch. "You can go." "Yes, sir!" he heard the heels click and the sounds of his footsteps retreating leaving the intelligence chief alone with his thoughts. I give this to that preening egotist we now have for a Supreme Commandant and he then tells Group Commandant Kontarsky exactly where to send his commandos. And then......the whole damned infernal war starts all over again. And for what? Even though Canaris had been a loyal soldier and officer in the Alliance all his life, he always found the obsession with the doctrines and concepts of the "Natural Order" to be ludicrous. As far as Canaris was concerned the only principal behind his military career was patriotic duty to his nation, which by accident of birth and geography happened to be the Eastern Alliance. He wanted his side to succeed but as far as he was concerned all the talk about winning for the sake of the Natural Order was nothing but hot air propaganda. And he'd seen too many people die over the years for the sake of a stupid idea rather than basic patriotism. But basic patriotism was why he still did what he was told to do. First as a capable field commander, and then for the last ten years, director of intelligence. Never expressing doubts about the folly of what he felt his superiors were doing, but never enthusiastically cheering them either. That indifference he knew had saved his life and kept Leiter from sweeping him out with all the other members of the previous Supreme Commandant's inner circle. Now that he'd had some time to see Leiter though, Canaris was worried. There was something.....different about the new Supreme Commandant that put him in a category no other Supreme Commandant belonged in. Compared to the others Canaris had served under, Leiter was far more cold-blooded. Far more fanatical about the whole Natural Order claptrap but with a blood-chilling coldness that was more effective than over the top fanaticism which the last Supreme Commandant had been more prone towards. And above all, Canaris could tell that eventually Leiter would demand the same cold-blooded, fanatical devotion of all of his subordinates. Leiter could applaud Canaris's indifference to the last Supreme Commandant but it wouldn't be tolerated in service to him. Sooner or later, he would expect Canaris to start showing more enthusiasm or else.....his fate would be the same as the last Supreme Commandant. Of that much, Canaris was becoming certain. And yet.....what could he do about it? Not much. To voice any opposition or misgivings about Leiter to anyone, even old friends he had trusted for years, was far too dangerous. They too knew the risks, and many of them were liable to turn informant against him and tell Leiter that his intelligence chief was less than devoted to the principles of the Natural Order. For now, he would attempt a holding action. Obey orders dutifully but with no enthusiasm, just like he always did......and wait for the moment when the new Supreme Commandant dropped his first hint that he wasn't being sufficiently enthusiastic. As he reached for the phone to relay the information to Leiter, he hoped and prayed that the moment wouldn't come in the course of this conversation. Since he had no idea just how he *would* react if the Supreme Commandant were to drop the hint about his attitude. The Chief of Staff settled into the staff car and immediately noticed the President seated in the back. "Thanks, Art," Maxwell said with gratitude. "This is going to be very important." As the car moved out, Moore noticed right away that it wasn't headed for the main highway that led to Maxwell's mountain retreat situated by Lake Cascade, two hours north of the city. "I thought we were going to the Retreat," he said. "We are," Maxwell said. "But first we have to stop at Central Flight Operations and pick up some.....Very Important People." "Who?" Moore frowned. The President let out a smile. "It looks like we're about to renew some old acquaintances with the very people who can help us the most." "You are certain, then," Leiter said as he heard Canaris's report. "Tricia Halper is," the Intelligence Chief stressed. "But you place great faith in her reliability, do you not, General?" the Supreme Commandant added that edge of an intimidating smirk to remind Canaris that the final responsibility rested with him. "She has been one of our best operatives. And Ronald Moore has obliged her with everything she demands of him. If his father is joining President Maxwell at his so-called Retreat, you can be certain that's where he's going." "And that clearly wasn't on Maxwell's itinerary before today, wasn't it?" "No," Canaris admitted, "It wasn't. Something sudden clearly has come up. But.....I do caution you, Supreme Commandant. If it turns out it is not connected with a meeting you see happening in the near future, then do not blame our sources." "I suppose I shouldn't blame.....your sources," Leiter injected that smirking edge again. "Thank you for your report, General." He hung up and immediately summoned Krebs to tell him that he wanted Group Commandant Kontarsky in his office immediately. Canaris put the phone down and leaned back in his chair. Leiter's tone had left him more ill-at-ease than at any other time in his career. Leiter hadn't dropped the first hint to him regarding his enthusiasm, but the Supreme Commandant had made it clear that he was under the microscope and that if anything should go awry, it was all too likely that he, and not his operatives like Tricia Halper would be the one held responsible. I don't think I can go on this way, the Intelligence Chief thought. But exactly what are my options? He had no answer. Chapter Seven There was some apprehension in Cain as he pressed the button that would open the hatch of the shuttle. He understood full well just how important the stakes were in this diplomatic mission and that it represented something bigger than what he'd gone through two sectars ago with the Zykonians at Brylon Station. Back then, the mission objectives had been much simpler, revolving around deal-making for needed supplies. This time, the stakes involved much more. For the Pegasus' future, but also the future of Terra itself. Thank God I have Ila here to help. The hatch opened and Cain saw standing on the tarmac, over twenty uniformed personnel lined up and in front of them, three men in what looked more like civilian clothing compared to the other men. He motioned to Ila and the two security men, Lieutenant Bryce and Sergeant Culhane to come forward and line up behind him. Once Cain stepped out of the shuttle, the man at the center of the row, brown-haired and looking to be middle-aged stepped forward. "As President of the Nationalist Government of Terra, I bid you welcome," Maxwell said. "Mr. President," Cain respectfully bowed, recognizing his name from the earlier briefings he'd received. "I'm Commander Cain of the Battlestar Pegasus." "The Pegasus?" Maxwell frowned. "I thought your ship's name was the Galactica." Cain let out a chuckle, "Well.....that's a complicated story. You see.....we're not from the ship that assisted your people the last time. We're simply......well acquainted with them." "But you do know Captain Apollo!" "Yes," Cain nodded, "My son-in-law, as I said. And this," he motioned to Ila, "Is his mother. Professor Ila." This seemed to relax the President. "Then.....you've come back to help us." "That is what we hope to do," Ila said, knowing instinctively that the Terrans needed reassurance on this point. "And we hope that in the process, your people will be able to help us a great deal." Maxwell nodded, "Well.....in that case, I look forward to some.....productive discussions with you." he then motioned to the other two men alongside him. "This is my chief of staff, Mr. Arthur Moore. And my adviser for military affairs, General Martin Stone." Polite bows were exchanged as Cain then introduced Bryce and Culhane to complete matters. Then, Cain stepped forward so that he was face to face with the Nationalist President. "Mr. President," he said, "There are quite a few things we'll be discussing. But for now, in the interests of not alarming your people, I trust that there'll be no public announcement of our arrival for sometime?" "None whatsoever," Maxwell said. "Our.....people for the most part are not aware of the role your people played in......defusing matters two yahrens ago." "So I've been told," Cain said, "But the man who now heads the Eastern Alliance does know of us, and that's why these discussions can't be too prolonged. The sooner we can come to an understanding of the key issues, the better it will be." "I'm prepared to take your party to a secluded place for discussions," the President said. "I have a vacation retreat home located well-outside our capital city, Lemuria. It can provide essential seclusion......and safety." "That's deeply appreciated," Cain said. "Since this would require leaving our shuttle here at your facility, I would like one of my guards, Sergeant Culhane, to remain behind to guard against any mishaps that might take place as a result of your personnel not being familiar with its components." "I understand and agree to that, Commander," Maxwell nodded. "The Sergeant will have full VIP hospitality on the base until you and the rest of your party return. You and Professor....Ila?" "Yes," she nodded. "You and Professor Ila may accompany me in my private vehicle for the journey. It will take about two hours to reach my retreat, but.....that might give us sufficient time to break the ice on these matters." "That's agreeable to me," Cain said. "Lead the way." The Terrans led the group of Colonials to a row of ground vehicles. The second one in the column, which was longer and silver in color in contrast to the more nondescript black of the one vehicle in front of it and the two in back, was the one Maxwell motioned them towards. With Lieutenant Bryce taking a seat in one of the trailing vehicles, Cain and Ila settled themselves inside the silver one, with Maxwell, Moore and Stone joining them. The interior of the vehicle was spacious with two seats at the back facing forward flanked on either side by two longer cushioned benches. The forward section where the driver was, was completely partitioned off. To one side, Cain noticed several bottles and glasses which indicated the presence of a bar. As they relaxed in their seats, Ila leaned over and whispered to him how the interior reminded her of President Adar's private shuttle, with the only difference being that this was a ground transport vehicle only. When the limousine started and began to move, it gave Cain a minor jolt as he realized it had been yahrens since he'd ever felt the sensation of being inside a vehicle that moved as slow as this one did. If it had been up to me, I'd have landed the shuttle next to where they're taking us, but I guess that would have been bad diplomacy. After declining offers of a drink, the final preliminary pleasantries were discarded and at long last the serious conversation could begin. "Your arrival comes at a very fortuitous time," Maxwell said from his position on the left side of the limousine facing back. Stone and Moore occupied the bench across from him. "The.....settlement that Captain Apollo and his friends helped to bring about two years ago is in a tenuous state at this time." "Yes, we've seen evidence of that," Cain knew he had to be more pro-active at the beginning before he allowed Ila to take greater charge of any negotiating. "As a matter of fact, we were recently at Paradeen and saw evidence of an Alliance attempt to destroy the two remaining families that still live there." The President's eyebrows went up in total surprise, "They did *what*?" Cain took a moment to recap what had happened. As he related it, General Stone was letting out a dismal grunt and shaking his head in disgust. "Going to all that trouble just to kill ten people on a planet we didn't even resettle," the General said, "I thought I knew Leiter pretty well but that shows how cracked he really is." "And with him running the Alliance now it doesn't bode well for the future," Maxwell noted. "Is there anything you can do to help?" "I think it's a difficult question as to what can we realistically do to help and insure that things become stable for your people and all of Terra," Cain said. "Is there anything that could be done short of having my ship and my fighters launch a pre-emptive attack on Alliance installations and facilities?" "I don't want to ask that of you," Maxwell said gravely, "Because I think it's obvious that's not what you want to do." "It isn't," Cain acknowledged, "So where does that leave us? Obviously the same option that Apollo and our sister ship the Galactica utilized isn't available to us." "Where is the Galactica?" Moore interjected for the first time, "And why is it that you're here and they're not?" "A very complicated story, Mr......" "Moore. And I don't mean to sound as though I want us to needlessly waste time, but I think we should get an understanding of how you came to be here before we arrive at the President's Retreat, which won't be for another two hours." Before Cain could have even a micron to show any sign of irritation, Ila immediately leaned forward and smiled brightly, "I quite understand, Mr. Moore. Some necessary context for how and why it is we happened to be here is important if our discussions are to be productive." Took only three centons for her to keep me on the straight and narrow, Cain thought as he settled back and prepared to join in as Ila explained their situation. As the convoy made it's way along the highways toward President Maxwell's Lake Cascade retreat, a small craft was at that moment preparing to set itself down in an open field one kilometer off the main highway that led to Lake Cascade. The craft was an air maintenance shuttle that was built to ferry heavy equipment across the continents of Terra. Such vehicles were common in both Nationalist and Alliance circles, though the Nationalist ones came in numerous varieties as they were built by private industrial firms. By contrast, the ones the Alliance used were all identical, built according to regimented specifications in state-controlled factories. It was because the Nationalists were accustomed to such uniformity of design in Alliance maintenance vehicles that when a shuttle appeared briefly on the radar screens of the air command posts in Lemuria and north of the city, no one gave it much thought once visual identification was made. Once the shuttle dropped to a lower altitude and off the radar screens it was merely assumed it was headed in to perform its scheduled delivery. This particular shuttle, though it outwardly resembled a D-1241 model built by the Con Amalgamated firm based in the Nationalist city of Tyre, was in fact an elaborate decoy. An Alliance shuttle built to resemble a Nationalist shuttle that could perform much needed missions of subterfuge and sabotage in the Nationalist hemisphere of operations on Terra. Most of the time, it was used for low-key operations that never would attract attention, such as ferrying spies in and out of Nationalist territory. Other times it might send in several soldiers to perform survey missions to study potential Nationalist weaknesses in the event of a military assault or invasions. But on this day, the decoy shuttle was performing its most dangerous mission ever. Inside was a team of eighteen Alliance commandos, the best in the entire service, all prepared for an armed assault on the convoy that would soon be approaching Robert Maxwell's Lake Cascade retreat. Under the authority of Group Commandant Kontarsky, the team had been training for this kind of mission for months since Leiter's accession to power as Supreme Commandant. Leiter had told Kontarsky that one option he was considering was some type of ambush or abduction of Robert Maxwell and his inner circle and so it would be necessary to train his men for potential operations near the Lake Cascade Retreat. There was no other place the Nationalist leader visited that offered any potential vulnerability that could be exploited. And so when Leiter, after receiving his report from Canaris, had then notified Kontarsky that the time had come to put a command operation into effect near Lake Cascade, the team was ready. Only one modification had been made which the Supreme Commandant had insisted be followed to the letter under penalty of death. And Colonel Neumann, the field commander of the operation, was determined to carry that part out and make sure his men didn't even think of deviating from it. With Neumann in the lead, the eighteen commandos marched out of the shuttle and into the dense thicket of evergreen trees that separated the field from the main highway. It was this element that had led this spot along the highway to be chosen long ago as the perfect place for an ambush if one were ever conducted. With the evergreen trees bordering the highway, it was literally the one point on the road to Robert Maxwell's retreat where a commando team could conceal itself and lie in wait for an extended period. They knew from intelligence and public media broadcasts what Robert Maxwell's official staff limousine looked like. So they knew when it would be time to move. All they had to do was.....wait. Ila had finished explaining the general history of the Pegasus' relationship to the Galactica and the different quests both battlestars were taking. The three Terrans were finding it hard to keep up with the magnitude of her revelations and frequently stopped her to interject with questions, and in each instance she obliged them. Cain, who only made an occasional comment on something that he had more direct knowledge of than Ila, marveled at her ability to not show any irritation or annoyance. It was the mark of a consummate diplomat in action. "You understand now why we're here and not the Galactica," Ila said. "They won't be visiting this region in space again because their quest lies ahead of them, whereas we're making our way back through space toward our home planets." "Yes......we understand," Maxwell said. "And your presence here......is not tied to following up on what Apollo did for us when he was here?" "Indirectly it is," Ila said. "We had some understanding that the war between your side and the Eastern Alliance had been halted because of what Apollo did for your people. And that circumstances were requiring you to keep most of the details secret." "We had to," General Stone said. "The only reason the Alliance agreed to our terms was because they thought it was a weapon of ours that brought down their first-strike missile capability. Without that bluff element.....it would have been different." "But their new Supreme Commandant, Leiter, knows otherwise," the President said. "That's why we know that anything he's doing is aimed at trying to provoke new hostilities when he thinks the time is right." "That does present a problem," Cain decided that he had to start interjecting his own thoughts since they touched on military matters. "And I must be up-front with you about one thing, Mr. President. We certainly want to do what we can to help, but our presence in the Terran system can not and will not be permanent. Eventually, we do have to resume our journey to our ultimate destination." "I understand that, Commander," Maxwell kept his tone diplomatic, though inside he found this news deflating. From his standpoint, he couldn't envision any scenario other than a permanent return of the Colonials that could keep things stable. Not as long as the Alliance had an unshakable belief in the inevitable doctrine of history as they saw it, that their Natural Order was destined to rule completely. "The one luxury we have is that we're not overly pressed for time," Ila added. "We can afford to stay as long as we can to discuss this matter......as well as others that are of interest to us and where we need your help." "You need our help?" Moore asked. "Yes," the blonde Academician nodded. "There are matters concerning......the origins of Terra that could have a great bearing on our own quest." Her comment was met with a surprised silence at first. And then, it was Maxwell who spoke up. "You're asking about......how life began on Terra?" he was halting in a way that was like someone navigating a mine field. "Yes," Ila said. "And other things regarding Terra's early history that from what we've gathered, seems to be something of a taboo subject among your people." "Leave me out of this," General Stone said hastily as he motioned his arms and seemed to drive himself back deeper into his seat. "I'm a soldier, not a pontiff." "Uh, yes," Maxwell's unease only increased, "Professor Ila.....Commander Cain, you're....talking about matters that only our Supreme Pontiff could address." "Then it might be necessary for you to arrange a meeting between him and us," Ila said with respect, but firmness. "These are matters of great importance to us, Mr. President. And we cannot leave Terra without learning the answers. Such as what your so-called 'Sacred Texts' have to say about the subject." "And also what the term 'Black Knight' means," Cain added. As soon as the words were out of the Juggernaut's mouth, the three Terrans all visibly stiffened. Expressions of unease on all their faces. "I can see this is not an easy subject to bring up," Cain said, "But it can't be avoided. We need to know the truth about Terra's beginnings so we can correlate that information with what we ourselves as a society know about *our* beginnings. Our ability to fight our enemy and reclaim our home worlds may very well depend in part on what we learn about your planet's beginnings." "I......understand your position, Commander," Maxwell said, "It's just that.....these are matters that don't fall under my leadership or anyone else in the secular leadership of Terra. All religious matters rest exclusively with the Supreme Pontiff. That's how it's been for more than two millennia at least if not longer." "Does the Supreme Pontiff's authority extend to the Alliance?" Ila asked. Stone let out a mirthless guffaw, "Hardly. The Alliance philosophy of the Natural Order has no place for religion of any kind. To them, the State is the religion." "Part of the reason why the Alliance came to be with their philosophy was because of their hatred of the traditional religious order of Terra," Maxwell said. "They saw it as an impediment to an efficient society with its emphasis on moral values and basic concepts of right and wrong. And certainly the concept of an Almighty Creator of the Universe doesn't sit well with Alliance philosophy that man can create a regimented order all by himself." "That doesn't surprise me," Cain said, "But.....in your society, you're taught not to study your sacred texts for yourself and interpret them? It's all just left in the hands of the religious hierarchy?" "The Supreme Pontiff and the Holy Council produce their commentaries on how we are to conduct ourselves in accordance with what has been Divinely revealed in the Sacred Texts," Maxwell said. "The texts themselves are not accessible to the lay people of Terra." "Because of the language barrier?" Ila was guessing on this point but she decided to take a chance. The President's eyebrows went up in surprise, "It's a dead language to ordinary Terrans, yes. But how could you have known?" "Because that language is very likely our own ancestral tongue," Ila said. "It's a dead language among the masses of our society too, but.....there are lay scholars who do know how to read it. Like myself." "In short, Mr. President, whatever barriers exist to your people, do not exist with us," Cain decided he needed to delicately apply some pressure. "We can not be denied access to these materials. And that also applies to whatever information is available on the so-called 'Black Knight.'" Again, the uneasiness increased and finally, the chief of staff felt the need to speak up. "Commander Cain, I think it would be far more conducive to productive discussions if you refrain from uttering those two words again." "Even if I don't say it again in your presence, it won't make the issue go away," Cain kept his tone level. "I need an assurance that we'll be given access to what there is about it, in addition to your Sacred Texts." The Juggernaut then leaned forward, "Our ability to help you with regard to your struggle with the Alliance is contingent upon these matters, Mr. President." Maxwell smirked at him, "You don't leave much room for bargaining, do you, Commander?" "Only on essential points, Mr. President," Cain kept all antagonism out of his voice. "And these are essential points." "I can't make these promises," Maxwell said, "Only the Supreme Pontiff can." "Then I suggest we get in touch with him," Cain said. "Can it be arranged?" Maxwell looked over at his chief of staff, indicating that he wanted Moore to answer this point. "The Supreme Pontiff seldom ventures beyond the confines of the Holy See in Lemuria our capitol," Moore said. "We do not interfere with religious authority to guide the people, and they do not interfere in matters of secular leadership. The Supreme Pontiff generally appears in public only at ceremonial functions." "We're not asking for a public meeting," Ila said. "All of this can be handled privately, without the broader population knowing the reasons......unless that became necessary." There was no immediate response, so Ila pressed on. "If it's simpler for us to see him in this Holy See, then you might as well take us there instead of to your retreat," Ila said. "The sooner we can get the preliminaries of this matter settled, the better. We don't need to actually study these texts today or get the information on the......other matter today, but we do need an understanding that access will be provided to us in the very near-term. Once we have that, then we can get down to the matters of importance to you which is how we can assist you in the matter of the Alliance." Maxwell glanced over at Stone whose expression was that of someone who didn't want to say anything on a matter he felt unqualified to discuss. Then at Moore whose body language indicated that it was best to be accommodating on a difficult and touchy subject. "When we reach the Retreat, I will phone the Supreme Pontiff personally and explain the situation, and how the very survival of Terra could depend on it," the President said, "Would that be acceptable?" "It would," Ila said it before Cain could even think of raising an objection. "Let him know that Commander Cain and I would pledge total discretion." "I certainly will do that," Maxwell said. "And I will give you my full backing that it's essential you have access. Much as I dislike the idea of putting pressure on our spiritual leader......I think I can make the case that this is ultimately more of a secular matter." "I understand your dilemma," Ila said, "Our society is deeply devoted to religious tradition and we too would be uncomfortable with any thought of dishonoring it. Perhaps you could also let your Supreme Pontiff know that we might be able to offer proof of a common faith that extends far across the universe." "I will let him know," Maxwell's tone was respectful. "And I give you my word, we will reach an accommodation that will make it possible for you to learn what you need to know." "We are grateful to you for that, Mr. President," Ila nodded with respect. "We may consider this matter one we've reached tentative agreement on, then?" Moore spoke up. "Which means that when we arrive at the Retreat we can begin discussing the potential areas of military assistance you can offer us regarding the Alliance?" "After the call has been placed to the Supreme Pontiff, yes," Cain said. "I think for now, this vehicle is not the place to discuss matters of military strategy." Before any of the Terrans could say anything there was a sudden jolt as the vehicle came to an abrupt stop. Both Cain and Ila felt themselves sliding off their seats and had to stop themselves from rolling forward. The Chief of Staff felt a sharp pain go through his neck as his head whipped violently forward while the President and General Stone managed to brace themselves. "What the hell happened?" Maxwell looked forward toward the partition that separated the back area of the vehicle from the driver section. And then, they heard a series of popping noises which Stone and Maxwell, both military veterans of many campaigns recognized as automatic fire. "Get down!" the President barked. "We've been ambushed!" "I don't believe this," Cain muttered as he instinctively found himself reaching for where a laser pistol would be affixed to his waist......only to get a reminder that he hadn't armed himself. Diplomacy had dictated that it would be a needless gesture since he was meeting with supposed friends. While everyone else inside the vehicle had sprawled themselves down on the floor, General Stone was cautiously peering through the tinted windows on the right side. "Stoney, what do you see?" Maxwell asked urgently. "There's at least.....a dozen, maybe more, commandos out there, fully armed. Good God, one of them's up by the front......" Suddenly, they heard a muffled barrage of firepower while Stone collapsed back to the floor, "Shit, he got the driver!" "Don't you have any security of your own?" Cain was more angry than frightened. "Of course we do, but God Almighty this isn't the sort of thing we ever expected!" Maxwell angrily retorted through clenched teeth. "Cain, don't argue," Ila said nervously as memories of the night of the Holocaust and the sudden panic inside the Astral Needle came back to her. "What in Hades else can I do?" the Juggernaut spluttered with rage. "Just hang tight," Ila said firmly. "This isn't the time." Stone peered through the window again, "Eighteen of them. They've.....clearly overpowered everyone or else.....forced them into submission. One of them's headed----," Before he could finish there was a hard rap on the door and a stern voice, "Open up, Mr. President! Now!" "Mr. President," Moore was slowly recovering his bearings even as the pain shot through every part of his body from the whiplash, "None of us are armed. Unless we get a miracle from our men in the rear processional-----," "Wait!" Cain said, "We have one security guard of our own who's armed. I'll see if he's still secure!" He pulled out his com-line, "Bryce? Bryce, are you okay?" There was a crackle which indicated the line was active but no response. "Bryce?" Cain's voice rose, "Bryce!" "Um......is this the.....commander?" an unfamiliar voice suddenly came over the line. "That's one of my men, Sergeant Youngblood!" Stone blurted. "Yes, yes, this is Commander Cain. What happened to Lieutenant Bryce?" "Um.....sir, your man when the trouble started, opened the door and got off a couple bursts at the attackers but then he took a slug in the chest. We've.....got him back inside but unless he gets medical treatment, he's not going to make it." "Frack," Cain whispered. "Commander, let me talk to my man," Stone motioned. "Give it to him, Cain," Ila said urgently. With reluctance, Cain did so. "Sergeant, this is General Stone. Any other casualties on your end?" "Just our guest, but.....it looks like they took down a few others forward and also took out your driver. We can't get out of here, sir. We're completely hemmed in" The loud pounding on the door increased, "Open the door, now!" "Cain," Ila said with resignation, "We have no choice." "I don't believe in surrender!" the Juggernaut's fury increased. "And I don't believe in suicide," Adama's wife retorted. "I seriously doubt they mean to kill us. My guess is that we're meant for abduction, not execution." "I'd like to remind you both that the final decision is *mine*!" Maxwell retorted acidly, trying to come to terms with what had happened. "Of course, Mr. President," Ila said quickly before Cain could say anything else. "What is your decision?" The Nationalist President looked over at Moore who was grim-faced. "Mr. President, retaliation is going to have to wait. I agree that it can't be something as simple as mass execution of us. That couldn't possibly be Leiter's style and God knows this whole thing has his fingerprints on it." "I agree, sir," Stone said. "Leiter has some other game in mind. We have to play it his way for now." "So we must," Maxwell sighed with bitter resignation. He then looked at Cain and Ila, "God is my witness, I am so sorry." "Mr. President, we don't blame you," Ila again took the initiative, knowing that Cain's preference would have been to say something nasty. "This only proves how much we intend to help you as far as the Alliance is concerned.....after this matter has been resolved." If we're still alive, Cain bitterly thought. But he also knew from a practical standpoint that Ila was right. There weren't any other options short of suicide and that was a far more dishonorable course of action. Especially in this context when there wasn't a higher purpose involved. "Open the door, Stoney," Maxwell said. Warily, the General did so. They saw the black suited form of Neumann standing in front of them with his weapon drawn. "All right," Maxwell looked the commando leader in the eye, "What do you want?" "Actually, Mr. President, I have no use for you," Neumann said and then looked about the interior, "Nor you, General Stone. Nor you, Mr. Moore. We are quite prepared to leave the three of you be." His eyes then fell on Cain and Ila, "It is only......your guests that are of interest to the Alliance. They will accompany us." "You might as well take the rest of us," Maxwell said contemptuously, "If your madman of a Supreme Commandant has to resort to this kind of barbarism that results in people of mine getting killed, then he can at least give me the courtesy of explaining his actions to my face." "Your people are but mere incidentals in the game of survival our two sides have fought for centuries, Mr. President," Neumann kept his pistol trained on him. "The Supreme Commandant has decreed that these people who come from a place he is familiar with, be taken to him. I am merely carrying out his orders. You and your aides have no role to play in what follows. They will come with us. You will stay." Cain, his expression angry leaned forward something, "May I say something? Seeing as I'm the one who interests your so-called leader." Neumann looked at him, "You may." "A security officer of mine was wounded in the insult. I demand he be taken to receive immediate medical treatment." "You're in no position to demand anything." "Then pull that trigger and tell your Supreme Commandant your mission ended in failure," the Juggernaut looked him in the eye. "You will save the life of my crewman......or I become totally mute from this moment on." "And that goes for me, too!" Ila then added with equal contempt which took Cain slightly by surprise. If it had been up to him, he would have insisted Ila not be taken hostage. But it was already clear that Ila wasn't going to permit that. If he was going to be a hostage, then it was clear Ila was going to insist she be there too. Neumann realized there was no point taking a stance on this matter. "Very well," the commando leader nodded. He then motioned to his deputy and instructed him to get the wounded man in question. "I'm assuming you have a medic in your team," Cain said coldly. "Or are you all considered too expendable to make one necessary?" "We have one in our ship," Neumann said. "Your man will be attended to." "I hope so, for your leader's sake," Cain held his tone. "We are honoring your request," the commando leader motioned his weapon, "The two of you, get out and accompany my men back to our ship." Slowly, Cain and Ila forced themselves up from their seats and stepped out of the vehicle. An angry Maxwell was determined to get in a final word. "You can tell the Supreme Commandant that he's only going to guarantee a reprisal of our choosing when we decide to do it!" Neumann looked coolly at the Nationalist President and gave him a disdainful smirk. "We will see about that, Mr. President. We have had our setbacks these last two years, but the triumph of the Natural Order needs no timetable. The inevitability of history guarantees it. Meanwhile, I suggest you allow us to peacefully withdraw with our guests. Any hostile pursuit will only result in their termination. Which I am certain you do not wish to have on your conscience." And before Maxwell could say anything else, the commando leader coolly slammed the vehicle door shut. Cain and Ila were forced to march through the pine trees bordering the main road which led to the open field where the commando's shuttle was parked. It wasn't until the wounded, unconscious form of Lieutenant Bryce was moved in first that Cain finally boarded the vessel. Ignoring all the commands Neumann was uttering to them, he and Ila walked to the back where they saw one crewman, not wearing the black suit uniform of the commando team attending to the wounded warrior. "You're the med-tech?" Cain glared at him. The crewman frowned at him, not familiar with the term. "I'm Medic First Class Kohl, if that's what you mean." "Show some aggressiveness in your work, Medic," Cain said harshly. "I suggest you two come forward and be seated!" Neumann barked. Cain wheeled around and glared at him, "Up your astrum. You've gotten all the cooperation you're going to get from us until we arrive at wherever you're taking us. I'm staying back here and making sure that my man is properly treated. And so is my friend." "Perhaps if you value your friend's safety, you will be less.....defiant." Neumann snapped his fingers and a commando suddenly moved in towards Ila. Her eyes widened at this threatening move that was clearly aimed to intimidate Cain but she made not a sound. And then, as the commando came within an inch of her, towering above her by a good several inches.......Adama's wife abruptly grabbed his forearm and gave it a sharp twist that caused him to let out a startled yelp of pain. "Lay a finger on me and I'll break it," the blonde Academician whispered with a savageness that startled everyone and even Cain since this was a side of Ila he'd never seen before. "Don't think I can't now that I've got hold of your most vulnerable spot." The commando jerked his head over towards Neumann who was looking on in amazement. "Commander," he whispered as he felt the pain in his arm increase, "Please.....I." "All right," Neumann said with resignation. "You two may stay in the back. It is of no consequence. All that matters is that you are with us as our Supreme Commandant has requested." He motioned the pilot to start the engines and soon the bogus Nationalist cargo transport was off the ground and headed for its journey back to the other side of Terra. An angry, subdued silence filled the inside of the Presidential vehicle as it now headed back towards Lemuria and the Capitol. In all the years that Stone had known Maxwell he had never seen such explosive fury lining the President's face, showing a man that wanted to take action but for now was totally uncertain as to how it could be done. Finally, the President broke the silence. "Someone talked." Moore, still rubbing the soreness in his neck looked over, "What?" "Someone talked and mentioned I was headed to the Retreat for an important reason beyond a mere vacation. That's the only way they could have had that team in place on such short notice. Knowing Leiter, he's probably had that team in a state of constant readiness that once they had a target, they could be deployed within less than an hour." He angrily looked at Moore and then Stone, "That means our security sprung a leak of epic proportions, and so help me when I find out who was responsible I'll have his head stuck on a pike in front of the Presidium Building. This is an absolute disgrace." "What does it all mean?" Stone mused aloud. "Why bother going through with something like this?" "I'm already forming a theory about that, but I'll let it wait until I talk to Leiter personally as soon as we're back in Lemuria," Maxwell said. "He didn't want me there as a hostage, but he'll take my call via the Hot Line. I won't let him refuse it." "Their one remaining crewman is back at Central Flight Operations," Stone pointed out. "We have to let him know so he can notify the Pegasus about what's happened. They have to find out before Leiter and the Alliance contact them, which we know they'll do." The President grimly nodded and hit the intercom switch to the front of the vehicle. "Change of plans. Take us to Central Flight Operations first." He settled back in his chair. "I have to tell their man personally about it. Hell, if he'll let me, I'll talk directly to their ship and explain it. This whole thing is our fault because somewhere on our end, we have someone who either has a pair of loose lips or even worse, is probably a goddamned traitor. And I'm not going to rest until the son-of-a-bitch is rooted out." On the other side of the vehicle, Moore suddenly felt the sensation of pain disappear from his neck. Replaced instead by a sick, sense of inner horror that had just come over him. Oh my God, the chief of staff thought. Please tell me I'm just being paranoid. Please tell me that it couldn't possibly be so. But until he looked his son in the eye and asked him point blank, he knew there was no way he could dismiss his concerns. Chapter Eight "We're in position between the orbital path of Lunar One and Terra," Kylie reported. "Out of range of Lunar One itself?" Tolen asked. "Yes, sir," the attractive female Bridge Officer nodded. "Lunar One's current orbit is opposite our position. They won't be able to scan our presence yet." "Good. I'd prefer we stay in the shadows for now," the Executive Officer moved about, casting an eye on the viewing screen which showed Terra. Cain and Ila had left several centars ago and according to the now detached viper escort, had made contact with the Nationalist authorities. Everything was now out of their hands for now until they heard otherwise. "Colonel Tolen?" The Executive Officer looked down and saw Dr. Arnoff mounting the steps to the upper level. "Hello, Doctor," Tolen said, "You have some news?" "Yes, it's about our teleportation experiments. I think we're ready to try it out for the first time on a human being." "You're sure of that?" "Well, I've run the tests three times now using Centurion Festus, by transporting him from the Electronics lab to the Launch Bay and then increasing the distance so he was transported the whole length of the ship. If we had a planet to experiment with for transport, I'd say we had the power capacity to teleport him all the way down from planetary orbit." "That is good news," Tolen noted. "But.....as far as testing it on a human goes, I don't think I'm the one who should approve authorization for that. You should take that up with the Commander when he returns." "I suppose so," Arnoff sighed. "It's just that.....with all the momentum we've had with this the last few cycles, I hate to lose it at this point. The sooner we can finally test it on a human being, the more we can move ahead with other projects we've been working on." "I understand, Dr. Arnoff. We're all anxious to see more progress in these areas, but I can't help the timing. It'll have to wait," he paused, "Have you found anyone willing to volunteer for this project?" "Well.....I admit that's the other half of the battle. It should be perfectly safe though. Nothing went wrong when Festus was transported." "Festus is still a machine," Tolen pointed out. "The risk factor of damage to him is much less than when it comes to reassembling a human being or any other biological life form." "True, but the Zykonians have been using this base technology for yahrens now, and with humans too. Wallis said he used their teleportation system a half dozen times while he was living on Brylon V." "Then it's a question of whether you've done a thorough job of duplicating what the Zykonians have been able to master," Tolen then smiled thinly, "Do you think you're that much of a miracle worker, Doctor?" "All of us in this line of work need an ego complex, Colonel," the Electronics Scientist returned it. "Colonel?" Bridge Officer Altair, who handled communications, called over. "Yes, Altair?" Tolen descended the steps and made his way over to his station. "Message coming from the shuttle's communication system. They're still on the planet, but it sounds......urgent." "The Commander?" "It's not the Commander, sir, it's.....Sergeant Culhane. The junior member of the Security detail." Feeling an uneasy sensation inside him, the Executive Officer donned a headset. "Sergeant Culhane, this is Colonel Tolen. What's your situation?" "Colonel, something terrible's happened. The Commander and the Professor, they....." he broke off, trying to catch his breath. "Yes?" Tolen sharply demanded. "Sir.....they've been kidnaped by the Eastern Alliance." His eyes widened in horror. "Good Lords of Kobol, how?" "Sir.....I'm going to put the Nationalist President, Mr. Maxwell on the line. He'll explain how it happened." As Tolen waited for the new voice, he then angrily waved his arms about the Bridge to indicate silence. And then, he motioned to Altair that this conversation be put on the open speaker so everyone could hear it. "Hello, this is Robert Maxwell, President of the Nationalist Government of Terra. Am I speaking to Commander Cain's deputy?" "This is Colonel Tolen, Executive Officer of the Battlestar Pegasus. Mr. President, please explain what happened and where are Commander Cain and Professor Ila now?" "Colonel, I am deeply sorry for what has happened. Somehow, there was a leak in our security that alerted the Alliance to the fact that I was having your emissaries taken to my vacation retreat for private discussions. A commando team was in place and ambushed us. They forced Commander Cain and Professor Ila to leave with them as hostages at gunpoint. The third member of your team, Lieutenant.....Bryce I believe it is, was wounded in the exchange. Because we had no adequate medical facilities available nearby that could guarantee his survival, Commander Cain insisted he be taken as well by the Alliance to receive more immediate medical treatment for his wounds." Tolen let out an angry exhale. He wanted to berate the President endlessly for allowing this to happen, but he knew that from a command standpoint it was a waste of valuable time to do so. Recriminations would have to wait. "Mr. President, where were they taken?" "I can only assume, Colonel, that they are being taken to the Alliance capital city of Berchteshof which is on the other side of the planet from our territory. I am certain that the Alliance leader, Supreme Commandant Leiter wants to talk to them directly and will likely want to be able to contact you at some point if there are any demands he wishes to present." Tolen turned and motioned to Kiley to start programming the map data on Terra that they had obtained from the materials on Paradeen. The bridge officer nodded and started going to work on that. "Mr. President, do you have any way of contacting the Alliance directly?" "Yes, Colonel, I do, but I have to return to my office in our capital city first to do that. I can then relay what I learn from there to Sergeant Culhane who can then keep you informed of all the information that we can gather." The Executive Officer let out a disgusted sigh, "Mr. President, I will give you time to gather what information you can and relay that back to us. But after I've obtained that information, I must inform you that all decisions regarding what we intend to do to secure the release of both Commander Cain and Professor Ila will be decided entirely by ourselves and by whatever means we feel are necessary." "Colonel Tolen," Maxwell said, "I understand your need to do what you feel you must. I can only caution you though that whatever decision you choose to make does carry with it ramifications for the lives of everyone on Terra, as well as those who live on our satellite worlds." "Point noted, Mr. President," Tolen said flatly. "In the meantime, I suggest you get started on that effort to contact the Alliance. Please put Sergeant Culhane back on the line." "Of course. And Colonel.....on behalf of my people, again my apologies." Tolen didn't acknowledge the final remark. Once the security guard was back on, he gave Culhane instructions to stay where he was and act as the relay for messages that would come from the Nationalist capital. He was also given instructions to observe military operations and report anything out of the ordinary whenever it happened. When the connection was ended, he wasted little time springing into action. "Kylie, set new course that will put us in direct orbit above Terra, and specifically I want us positioned right above their capital city." "Coordinates programmed, sir." "Altair, keep all channels open. It's possible that the Alliance might try to contact us directly to give us their demands. The instant you hear something, put it in the open so we can all hear it." "Yes, sir." "Major Ham, put us on Yellow Alert. All viper pilots are to stand by to launch on a micron's notice. It's possible that Alliance scout vessels might try to engage us." "Yes, sir." As the battlestar picked up speed to take it in towards Terra, Tolen realized that in all the yahrens he'd been the Executive Officer of the Pegasus, this was the first time he'd ever had to truly take command of the ship in a meaningful way. He hoped and prayed that in the near-term, it would be the last. When Leiter was told that Group Commandant Kontarsky was on the line, he kept his attitude cautious. He had seen too many instances in recent years how even well-trained Alliance operatives could end up failing. "Yes?" "I have good news, Excellence," Kontarsky said. "The mission was a success. Commander Neumann's team reports the two lead emissaries are in their custody and will be landing in less than thirty minutes." A smug smile of satisfaction formed across Leiter's face, "Well done, Kontarsky. Well done. Your team will receive commendations as soon as they can be arranged." "They report that they have an additional member of their team, who was wounded in the assault. Their Commander insisted he be brought for medical treatment or he would not cooperate." "Hmmm," Leiter thought. At this point, he was still prepared to believe that this might be Adama himself, if in fact the ship that had returned to this sector of space was indeed the Galactica. If the Commander of this ship was one of the hostages, then it meant he had Adama himself. Which would be the most satisfying outcome of the whole affair possible. "Excellence?" Kontarsky gently pressed. "Oh, sorry. Well, when they arrive, make sure the wounded prisoner is taken to the Hospital Center. But.....treat his case with low priority." There was a pause on the other end, "Low priority, Excellence?" "Of course," the Supreme Commandant said, "We can never be accused of denying treatment, can we?" "No, of course. It will be done." "And have the two lead emissaries brought to the Main Hall upon arrival." "Yes, Excellence." As soon as he'd put the phone down, he heard the knock which indicated Krebs wanted to see him. "Come in, Krebs." His aide marched in and came to stop, giving his heels an appropriate click. "A message from Commander Suloff on Destroyer Nine. He is en route from Lunar One to our home base and he reports that the Galactica is approaching Terra itself!" Leiter's eyes narrowed. "That's a little sooner than I would have hoped for, but it clearly can make no difference so long as we have her commander and more hostages." "He wants to know if he should engage?" "Certainly not!" Leiter said, "I don't want our ships to engage her. The whole point of what we're doing Krebs, is to keep them from engaging us. Tell Suloff to avoid contact. We're going to force them to sweat this out." "Yes, Excellence." As Krebs turned to depart, the line buzzed again. Leiter found himself smiling mirthlessly at how much activity he was being forced to juggle. But he had to admit he relished all of it. For the first time since assuming leadership, the Supreme Commandant had a distinct sense of finally being in control of the course of events. "Yes?" "President Maxwell wishes to speak to you on the Hot Line immediately, Supreme Commandant." Leiter leaned back in his chair. Part of him wanted to make the Nationalist President sweat some more by saying nothing. But he also had to guard against the possibility that Maxwell would use silence on his part as an excuse to launch some pre-emptive military action of his own. It was best he take the call. "Put him on." As soon as the click sounded which indicated the connection was secure, Leiter put all the fake cheeriness into his voice he was capable of, "And good evening, Mr. President! I am sure I know why you've chosen to make contact." "Don't be funny with me, Leiter," Maxwell angrily snapped. Leiter leaned forward in his chair and quickly turned off the false pleasantness, "You will address me by my title, Mr. President." "Titles are for people who have respectability," Maxwell spat, "You have none, Leiter." "If you want this connection to continue, you will oblige me.....Mr. Maxwell," he then added with dry contempt. Knowing he had no choice, Maxwell let out an exasperated sigh, "Very well......Supreme Commandant. I assume you have an explanation for your little act of dishonor that took place on Nationalist territory several hours ago?" "Dishonor?" Leiter mocked, "That's funny coming from a man who specialized in similar actions on many an Alliance outpost during his military career. You have just given me a wonderful insight into how the entire Nationalist philosophy is rooted in pure hypocrisy. You profess to be so sanctimoniously moral and superior in your sense of so-called ethics, yet you don't hesitate to employ the same tactics when it comes to waging war that we do. You can call what happened many things, Mr. President, but if it's 'dishonorable' than so too is every other military endeavor that defines your career." Maxwell didn't answer for nearly fifteen seconds. "Just what are you trying to get from taking those two hostages?" "Nothing that concerns you or the Nationalist regime, for that matter," Leiter said. "I regard this matter as private and personal business between the Alliance and the Nation these people represent. What I wish to discuss with them has nothing to do with our conflict, past or present." "Bullshit," the President didn't mince words. "We know the reason you kidnaped them." "Do we?" he smirked, "Does that mean you have something to confess to not just me, but to your people as well? The *real* story behind how the so-called 'truce' of two years ago came about?" Leiter didn't wait for a response as he pressed on, "What would it do to the morale of your people, Mr. President, if they found out that all this time you've *never* had some ultimate weapon capable of keeping us at bay? Would it lead to a.....collapse of confidence in your leadership, as surely as what befell your predecessor President Arends? And would it lead to the end of this......golden age your people have deluded themselves into enjoying? That's something you can't possibly afford to see happen. Which is why.....you won't concern yourself with what happens to my new......guests. You have far too much to lose if you chose to make a public issue of what happened on your territory. Or if you chose to senselessly initiate hostilities between us once again." There was still no response from the other end, but Leiter could hear the heavy, angry breathing of the Nationalist President. "Mr. President?" "If you have terms to give regarding them, you might as well let me know them," he said finally, trying not to show any sign of the inner defeat he was feeling. "You can't contact their ship on normal communications bands. Only the shuttle they came in can do that. If you want a message relayed......give it to me." "Thank you for your courtesy, Mr. President," Leiter smugly mocked. "For now, we will rely on our own channels of communication. Should they prove inadequate......I will give your kind offer all due consideration." "One way or another, this matter will be discussed again, *Commandant*," Maxwell spat the title out. "Good day." The click indicated that the President had broken the connection to keep Leiter from having the last word. The Supreme Commandant felt nothing but total triumph as he held the dead receiver in his hand. A seething Maxwell put the Hot Line extension down. "He wouldn't say a word about what he wants out of them. Just that it's "private business" as he calls it, and that he'll be trying to contact their ship himself." "What options does that leave us?" Moore asked, a padded collar now around his neck due to the whiplash he'd suffered. The President reached for a water glass and downed it. He wiped his mouth and tried to collect himself. "Stoney," he looked over at his military aide. "I'm making you our liaison to that.....Colonel Tolen I think his name is. Get back to Central Flight Operations and keep yourself alongside that.....Sergeant Culhane at all times so you can use their communication link. I'll stay in touch if we learn anything new from our end that you can pass along." "Yes, Mr. President," he rose and then stopped in the doorway and looked back uneasily at his friend of many years. "Bob......should we put our forces on High Alert?" "We may have to, Stoney," Maxwell sighed. "But......I'm going to wait until I get some sense of how their people decide to handle this. They have a lot more at stake as far as the short-term is concerned." Stone nodded and departed, leaving the President and Chief of Staff alone. "Is there anything I can do, Mr. President?" "Yes, Art," Maxwell brought his hands together. "Get word to the Holy See that if the Supreme Pontiff can talk with me at his earliest convenience.......I'd appreciate it immensely." The Chief of Staff frowned. "I don't understand." "For the first time, Art, I feel totally backed against a wall," Maxwell was trembling. "I know the real reason why Leiter took them hostage." "Do you?" "Yes," the President said, "Knowing him......his demands are going to be that the Pegasus leave and refuse to interfere with Terran matters again. He knows he can't beat them militarily, but.....a threat to kill their two most important leaders if they don't stay out and refuse to help us.......that's exactly what I think his game is. Once Leiter knows he never has to worry about outside interference again......then as far as he's concerned, the way is clear for him to get back to the more important goal of breaking the truce and resuming the war......on his terms." He looked up at Moore, "And when he does that, Art, it's back to a constant war footing for us, unless I find the guts to actually *use* that nuclear advantage we still have. I may have no choice but to launch that pre-emptive strike on all the major cities of the Alliance just to cut off the heads of their leadership once and for all. But it would mean I have to become a mass murderer in the process. And Leiter's counting on the fact that I don't have that in me." He lowered his head, "Dear God, take this burden out of my hands. Please set things right again." Once before, Moore had seen a President reduced to this state when President Arends had been forced to confront the reality of the Alliance deception. Back then, he'd felt contempt for the foolish naivete of the President. This time though, there was only pity for what Maxwell was going through......and a shared sense of burden that would only be resolved when he confronted his son and asked him a question he knew he had to ask. "I'll go through the proper channels with the Holy See, Mr. President," he said. "When I'm through with that......can you do without me for a few hours?" Maxwell looked up at him, "Where are you going?" "Just home," he said. "I won't be long. If something comes up, I'll get back here immediately. My deputy can handle things until then." "Go ahead, Art," the President absently waved his hand. "We could all use a little time to ourselves. It's all out of our hands now." "Thank you, Mr. President." When Cain and Ila stepped off the shuttle and got their first view of the Alliance capital city of Berchteshof, both were struck the aura of cold, impersonal sterility it exuded. Unlike the cities of the Colonies which were known for their beautiful works of personalized architecture, the buildings of Berchteshof were little more than drab, boxlike or rectangular shaped structures in equally drab shades of gray or black. To Ila, with her background in the arts, they reminded her of a life-sized version of a child's toy city made from building blocks. Architectural style reflects individual creativity and genius, she thought. And clearly in this society, there is no room for that kind of creativity. It all has to be so.....regimented. "This way!" Neumann motioned toward another ground transport vehicle that lay on the other side of the tarmac. Cain glared at the lead commando, "And just where are you taking Lieutenant Bryce?" "To the base hospital," Neumann said. "He will be well cared for." The two Colonials turned and saw the medic, Kohl, accompanied by one commando, carrying Bryce out on what was little more than a wooden slab. The medic, whose demeanor had been the closest to that of a normal human being of all the Alliance operatives in the ship, stopped briefly and looked Cain in the eye. "The bleeding is stopped. All that's needed is for the slug to be removed from him and he'll be fine." "He'd better be fine, Mr. Kohl," Cain said coldly. "Don't let me down." As Bryce was carried off, Neumann then motioned Cain and Ila to get into the vehicle. The both of them did so. When they got in, they noticed they were kept alone in the back and the front section, much like Maxwell's elaborate vehicle, was walled off to keep them from seeing the driver. "Well, that gives us a few centons privacy," Cain said with disgust. "Any thoughts?" "Not really," Ila looked out the window, "Except don't give into them." "I don't intend to for myself," the Juggernaut looked at her, "But whatever it takes to get them to let you go right away along with Bryce......that's what I want to see." "Cain, don't," she shook her head. "You and I are in this together. Bryce should be freed once they've taken the slug out of him, but I'm not going until we're both going." He grabbed her hand with concern. The first time he'd ever done that. "Ila," he said with deep concern, "Don't martyr yourself. The Pegasus can't afford to lose you. Without you, there's no way of integrating us into the Resistance. And if something happens to you before we make contact with Adama......it would haunt me for the rest of Eternity. I can't let that happen. I know I had no choice when they grabbed us because they were determined to take us both, but.......now that this has moved forward, I have to make sure they let you go before this gets any worse." "Cain," she said simply. "If you only knew all the near-death experiences I've gone through in the Resistance the last two yahrens, you'd see that this is nothing new for me." "Ila, I'm not slighting your ability. Kobol knows you know how to take care of yourself," he then shook his head, "Did you get some kind of training to do what you did to that commando?" "More like a refresher course," Ila said. "Being the mother of three warriors, I ended up taking some self-defense classes in my spare time. It let me give Athena some early instruction when she needed it. With the Resistance, I just learned to take that old training to a new level." "For what reason?" Cain found he needed the distraction as the vehicle moved off. "It's totally useless against a Cylon." "True," she nodded, "But it comes in handy when you're dealing with looters and scavengers on Caprica who just want to hog every last little item for their private underground fiefdoms. We've had to deal with our share of them." "I see," he shook his head again, "But Ila.....I have to insist that if I can get you released before this gets any worse.....you'll follow my order on that point." "That would be a direct order from you as Commander?" the faintest edge of a smirk lined her face. The Juggernaut found it forming on his lip too. "Yes, Ila, it would be. And please....if it comes to that......don't treat my orders the way I treated Adama's orders." "Well.....that might depend on how much I feel a need to.....even things out," she kept her tone light. God, she's amazing, Cain thought with admiration. The Resistance experience made her much more than she was before the Destruction. The vehicle came to a stop after several centons of motion. Ila could tell they were inside an underground garage of some type. Two uniformed men came up and opened the door. "This way to the elevator," Krebs motioned. "The Supreme Commandant will see you now." "I suppose it's too late to cancel my appointment and come back when it's more convenient?" Cain said dryly as he stepped out with Ila behind him. There was no answer as Krebs waved his arm once again, indicating that they move out. "We're in orbit, Colonel," Kylie said. "Directly above the Alliance capital city." "Any signs of defensive weaponry?" "Several orbiting satellites trained towards the planet surface, clearly intended for primitive photographic scanning surveys. One Alliance destroyer is positioned about halfway between Lunar One orbit and Terra, but is making no aggressive move on us." "Should we launch interceptors?" Major Ham inquired. Tolen shook his head, "No. Not so long as they maintain their position. Only if we start seeing a collective group of Alliance ships and then we'll have to take note of them." "Sir, I've tied in Alliance communication lines to our own network. If they send anything we'll be able to receive it and they'll be able to receive us," Altair said. "Should we contact them?" "No, not yet," Tolen said. "I want to know what their demands are, and then we act." "Sir, if I may." "Go ahead, Ham." "I don't think we should be sitting around waiting for them to make the first move. We have to start preparing for some kind of contingency." Tolen looked at the Senior Bridge Officer, "I'll all ears, Major. Tell me what the advantages are of launching a pre-emptive strike on them, when that means they'd then have an excuse to just execute the Commander and the Professor right on the spot?" "I'm not suggesting that, sir!" Ham protested. "Then give me some suggestions that have some practical merit, *Major*," Tolen put more command posture into his voice than he'd ever done in his life. Hearing none and seeing the frustrated look on Ham's face, Tolen then calmly exhaled. "Look, I understand. I'm frustrated too. But we have to play this as coolly as we can until we get more information because Maxwell was right. This can end up affecting the lives of everyone else on Terra as well." "Yes, sir." "Commander, a message from Sergeant Culhane," Altair said. "He has a General Stone standing by. He's going to serve as liaison of the Nationalist government for the duration of the crisis." "Put him through on my private circuit, Altair," Tolen keyed in his headset. "General Stone, this is Colonel Tolen. Do you have any news?" "I'm afraid not, Colonel," Stone said as he then recounted the details of Maxwell's talk with Leiter. "Okay. I don't think we'll be needing you to do any relaying, because we'll be able to talk to them if they open their circuits," Tolen said as soon as the general was done. "But I have to ask you this. If Leiter's having a private meeting with the Commander and the Professor, then where in your judgment is it likely to be taking place?" "Well, assuming Leiter is going to treat them more as detained guests rather than prisoners, then the most logical place he'd meet with them would be in the Great Hall of the Alliance Politburo building in Berchteshof." "Have you ever been there, General?" "Yes, I have, when the truce was signed two years ago with the previous Supreme Commandant," Stone said. "It's about the only setting in the entire Alliance that has any semblance of ostentation or grandeur. For formal ceremonies and reviews only. But it is the kind of place where Leiter might want to impress upon your people what the Alliance allegedly is all about. That's assuming he hasn't put them in a detention facility." "Which you don't think is likely." "Not right away, Colonel. Of course if they get overly combative and uncooperative with him, he might change his mind about that and show them what else the Alliance is capable of doing." "Okay, General, could you stand by for just a few centons? I'll check back with you." "I'm happy to stand by, Colonel if you'd just tell me what a centon is." "It's ah......never mind, just stand by for a little bit." Tolen switched the channel on his headset to the unicom for the battlestar, "Dr. Arnoff, report to the Bridge." He then went over to Kylie's station. "Do those Paradeen charts have anything in detail about the Alliance capital itself?" "I'll check, sir," Kylie said as she inputted a new program on Berchteshof. Abruptly, the overhead satellite image of the city was replaced with a detailed street map showing all the buildings. "Here it is, sir!" "Okay," Tolen said, "Now I want you to pinpoint the exact coordinates of the so-called 'Politburo' building." Kylie inputted some more data into her computer and soon a three-dimensional picture of the building filled the screen and alongside it, the exact coordinates of the building on the planet. "Adjust scan to concentrate on that structure. I want every last bit of information we can get about it." "That'll take a centon," "No problem." He moved away back towards Ham who had a quizzical expression. "Yes, Ham, an idea is occurring to me. But it's going to depend on some variables I don't know the answer to......yet." Cain found the so-called elevator much slower than a traditional turbo-lift but it seemed to do the job efficiently. When the doors opened and he and Ila stepped out, they saw before them a vast room of uncharacteristic formality and grandeur. An elaborate tapestry hung at the far end that Cain guessed was likely the Alliance emblem. Below it was a raised platform that reminded him of where a jurist might sit during a Tribunal session, while on either side were two rows of raised benches that suggested a kind of spectator's gallery. Closer to them was an area that was more reminiscent of a private lounge with two sofa benches and a small table in between. Two oversized chairs sat at ninety-degree angles on each side of the sofa benches so they faced inward. Cain noticed there was also a side door just behind the bench closest to the wall. "Sit down," Krebs motioned. "Do you desire a drink?" "Nothing that comes from a bottle we haven't seen you already take a sip from," Cain said caustically as he and Ila sat down on the cushioned sofa facing the wall. Seconds later, the door opened and Leiter, in full dress uniform and his hat on, entered the room. He was flanked by Kontarsky and Canaris whom he motioned to sit down in the two chairs. At the back end of the room, Cain could see another side door open and six armed guards enter with weapons at the ready. As Leiter took his seat on the sofa opposite from Cain and Ila, the Juggernaut saw a confused look come over the Supreme Commandant's face. "You are not Commander Adama," he said simply. "No," Cain said, having an inclination of why Leiter would say that but not willing to volunteer that information yet. "I'm disappointed," Leiter said. "For discussions with the head of the Nationalist Government, I scarcely expected him to send an underling." "For your information, I am not an underling," Cain leaned forward and didn't hide the disdain in his voice. "Your intelligence operates under the mistaken belief that my ship is the Galactica. I am Commander Cain of the Battlestar Pegasus." Leiter's eyes narrowed. A vague recollection of the name of the ship from idle talk among the inmates aboard the Galactica Prison Barge was coming back to him. Enough to make him realize that he had been acting under a totally erroneous set of assumptions ever since the first report of the battlestar had come in from Commander Suloff. "If I am mistaken as to the identity of your ship, I doubt very much I am mistaken as to your purpose for entering Terran space," the Supreme Commandant glared. "You came to provide assistance to the Nationalists." "Perhaps," Cain remained hunched forward, "Commander Adama's experience with you scarcely gives us reason to believe that we should do otherwise." Leiter let out a malevolent chuckle, "Then you know exactly why you and your.....companion are here." Ila abruptly leaned forward just as Cain had and with the same coldness of tone said, "Just for the record, Supreme Commandant, I am Commander Adama's wife." Cain tried not to wince. He had hoped Ila would keep that fact concealed because it was clear that once Leiter knew that, he wasn't even going to think of giving her an early release. But he knew if he'd ordered her not to reveal that information she would have defied him on that point. That was why he'd hoped her sense of diplomatic tact would keep her from doing it voluntarily, but it was clear that Ila's sense of pride in being Adama's wife wasn't going to allow her to conceal that from anyone. Least of all, Leiter. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the Supreme Commandant's left eyebrow arched upward in mild surprise. "That is very interesting," he said, "You are Adama's wife......and yet you are not aboard his ship." "For reasons that were not of my choosing," she said. "My husband is not aware that I survived the Destruction of our home civilization. An event I am certain you learned about." "Oh yes. Yes, I learned all about how your civilization was destroyed by a race of.....machines. An event that revealed that for all your incredible developments in the field of technology, your race is built upon the same decadent style of Nationalist philosophy that assures its eventual doom." "Our doom is not as ordained as you think it is, Supreme Commandant," Cain refused to be impressed. "Whether it is or not, that is your concern, not mine," Leiter said, "And thereupon is the crux of how your release can be assured." "I've been wondering when you'd finally get around to the matter of terms," Cain looked him in the eye, "Let's hear them." "They are quite simple," Leiter said. "Withdraw from Terran space and pledge no further interference in Terran matters. Our war is not your war, and is none of your business. You and your fellow Colonials aboard the......Pegasus clearly have more important things to deal with then a war that you can not affect the outcome of." Cain leaned back, amazed to hear that the terms were by every stretch of the imagination, so minimal. There was no demand for Colonial technology or anything else he might have expected. Instead, it was a simple demand to get lost. If that's all he wants......then he's operating from a greater position of weakness than maybe even he realizes. "That's basically it?" the Juggernaut brought his hands together. "You're just telling us to get lost?" "An inelegant way of putting it, but one that gets to the heart of the matter." "No demand for technology that you would need in your struggle?" "You are not a fool, Commander Cain," Leiter glared at him, "You would never under any circumstance allow such technology to be handed over to the Alliance, even at the cost of your own life. And do not think I would be a fool as to demand and expect to receive it." "No," Cain acknowledged, "I think it's clear you're not a fool, Commandant Leiter. Fools don't rise to the top of leadership once they set out to become leaders." "They're only fools for wanting to become leaders? Is that what you were about to say?" Leiter smirked. "That depends on what they want to be leaders of, Commandant," Cain returned it. Ila, who'd been wishing she could get some words in of her own, felt compelled to sit back and cede the conversation to Cain. Unlike their previous forays into diplomacy, this was one instance where Cain clearly had the superior skills since he had a better instinct for a man such as Leiter. Leiter let out a guffaw. "You have a rapier like wit, Commander! Already I find you so refreshingly different from Commander Adama," he then looked at Ila, "With all due respect, dear lady, your husband came off as something of a bore by contrast." Ila felt herself seething inside as it took all her self-control to hold her tongue. This was Cain's moment to control the dialogue and she knew she had to respect that. Cain wasn't going to let it pass, "You apologize to Professor Ila for that remark *now* Commandant, or this conversation is over." "Oh really now, Commander," Leiter scoffed, "With so much at stake, a petty little insult is going to make the difference? I'm sure you have your share to direct at me, as does the dear lady. It is of no consequence. It still leaves us right where we began, with the two of you as my hostages and the two of you forced to consider my simple, basic demand. Total withdrawal of your ship from the Terran star system, and total non-interference with Terran matters. Is that such a heavy price to pay? I would imagine it's in fact the policy that's defined your actions in whatever other star systems you've traveled. You surely can't afford to find yourself taking sides in *every* little conflict you happen to stumble across, do you?" "That-," Cain angrily started then stopped. "What were you about to say, Commander? That is not your concern? Or something close to that? All that does is prove my point! You are wasting your time by bothering with us. Remove yourself.....and we can all return to a state of normalcy." The Juggernaut leaned forward and put all the menace he could into his voice, "Apologize for that remark about Commander Adama, *now*, Leiter!" The Supreme Commandant stared back at him. To one side, Canaris was looking increasingly uneasy. He slowly motioned to get Leiter's attention. "Don't bother getting my attention, Canaris," Leiter could see him in his peripheral vision but kept his focus straight ahead. "I have nothing to say to either of these people on that point. Especially when it's not really in his hands anyway." Canaris gritted his teeth but managed to force his words out, "Supreme Commandant......I only wish to inform you that we should probably attempt contact with their ship now. Since as you say.....they are the ones who must decide whether to accept these terms.....and not the Commander." "Yes, I suppose so," Leiter nodded as he rose. "I will inform you of what your underlings have to say about this matter.......Commander." He then bowed with stiff politeness at Ila, who was still glaring at him with burning hatred in her eyes. And then, the three Alliance chieftains all departed, leaving them alone with the armed guards at the far end of the room, and Krebs and the two who'd escorted them standing behind them by the elevator. "Gallmonging piece of scum," Ila spat the words out under her breath. "Yes, he is," Cain nodded, "But.....I think he's also desperate without truly realizing it. He knows if the Pegasus stays, it's basically game over as far as the war is concerned. And he needs to prevent that." "And he thinks Tolen will cave in?" "He probably does once he tries to paint a grave picture of the situation about how our lives are at risk. Of course," he lowered his tone to make sure Krebs and the guards nearby couldn't hear him, "Assuming Tolen does give in to get our freedom, I wouldn't consider myself bound by the terms." "Colonel," Altair said. "There's a message coming from the surface directed to us." "I want it in the open, Altair," the Executive Officer said. "Attention, Colonial Battlestar. Attention, Colonial Battlestar. His Excellence, Supreme Commandant Leiter of the Eastern Alliance demands to speak to the acting commander immediately." Tolen wasted no time, "This is Colonel Tolen, Executive Officer of the Battlestar Pegasus. We demand the immediate release of Commander Cain, Professor Ila and Lieutenant Bryce." A brief pause and then a new voice came through, "This is Supreme Commandant Leiter. The release of the hostages is contingent upon your pledge to withdraw your ship permanently from Terran space and to interfere no more with the internal affairs of Terra. Failure to do so will result in their immediate execution. An outcome that I think you are *most* anxious to avoid." A low, angry murmur went up from everyone on the Bridge which forced Tolen to impatiently motion from silence. He realized full well the terrible dilemma this posed. The idea of capitulating to a fanatic was shameful. And yet, Cain and Ila represented the two most important people to the Pegasus. It was inconceivable for Tolen, or anyone else for that matter, to envision a world without them. In every sense of the term, they were truly indispensable. Play this calmly, he thought. "Commandant Leiter, this is Colonel Tolen," he finally answered. "It is my understanding that Lieutenant Bryce was wounded in your assault and you are giving him medical treatment. As soon as his condition is stabilized, I want him released to Nationalist custody immediately before any further discussion takes place." "My dear Colonel, you are in no position to make demands or attach conditions when *I* hold your people hostage!" Leiter retorted, "The sooner you realize that, the better." "And may I remind you, *Commandant*," he put a great deal of sarcasm on the title, "That the Pegasus is currently in orbit above your capital city and has the capacity to destroy it and other targets in Alliance territory at any time we choose?" "I am well aware of the capability of your ship, Colonel," Leiter was nonplused. "But I seriously doubt you have any desire to be the instrument of your Commander's death......or that of Commander Adama's wife. Unless of course you are a very ambitious man in search of personal power and glory." The Executive Officer's eyes narrowed and he choked back the desire to issue a nasty retort of his own. "We can dispense with your empty threats," Leiter went on, "So much as one viper craft buzzing the city......or one bomb dropped on an Alliance target......and that is all I would need to justify the execution of the hostages. No matter what you did afterwards......victory would still be ours. Just as it must inevitably be." Tolen slowly recovered himself and put the command bearing back in his voice. "Insomuch as you only mentioned the Commander and the Professor in your last comment, that would mean Lieutenant Bryce is of no value to you. You have no cause to continue holding him." "Perhaps I do, perhaps I don't, Colonel," Leiter had the tone of one who felt he had the upper hand. "It is admittedly strange for you to waste so much of this discussion time on the least important of the hostages." "The lives of each and every one of our crew matter equally to us," Tolen said forcefully, "And if Lieutenant Bryce doesn't matter that much to you, then what is the point of keeping him a hostage?" Leiter let out a laugh, "You have me there, Colonel. I admittedly was forced into taking him because your Commander was so convinced the Nationalists couldn't provide him with immediate medical treatment. I will look into his condition and if he has improved sufficiently, it may be possible to have him released. I offer no guarantee." "There will be no further discussion of your terms until there is more information about Lieutenant Bryce's status." "We will resume discussions later," the Supreme Commandant said with finality. A crackle of static then erupted through the Bridge which caused several technicians to take their headsets off. "Connection broken, sir," Altair reported. "Get General Stone back on secure line." "Yes, sir. Stand by." As Tolen adjusted his headset he turned around and saw the Electronics Scientist impatiently tapping his foot. "Oh, Dr. Arnoff, thanks for coming back. There's something very important I've got to know about the teleportation system." "I haven't got anything to add beyond what I've told you earlier." "But you said if we had a planet to experiment with, we're capable of transporting someone down to it with what we've got." Arnoff was taken aback, "Well.....yes. Yes, we are *capable* of it with our existing power levels. But we have to be in precise orbit above our position. Selecting a random location and not being in----," "Doctor, that's not important. The bottom line is *can* we do it?" "Yes." "Hang on," Tolen walked away from him and cued his headset. "General Stone?" "I'm here, Colonel." "General, we've heard from the Alliance. Their demand is that we withdraw completely from Terran space and pledge non-interference in all Terran matters." Stone paused as he took that in. "Is that something you're willing to do?" "I can't speak for our long-term policy, General, but I can tell you that we're certainly not going to make that kind of decision at gunpoint. We don't make deals of that kind even if the price theoretically isn't that great from our standpoint. Though I realize of course it has greater ramifications for your people." "Colonel," Stone interrupted, "I don't have authorization to speak for President Maxwell. But I don't think he'd want the deaths of two people as important as Commander Cain and Professor Ila are to you on his conscience. Maybe I can suggest he make a personal appeal to Leiter for their release as a prelude to new discussions between my government and his." "General," Tolen cut in, "I'm going to assume you're well acquainted with Commandant Leiter. Is he the kind of man who'd be receptive to that kind of overture?" Stone let out a defeated sigh, "No. No, he isn't. He's......quite mad in fact." "That confirms my belief. General, I'll let you relay this information to your President, but before I let you go, I have to ask you some questions about this......Politburo Building where you think the Commander and the Professor are being held." "I'm only making an assumption, Colonel," Stone cautioned. "It's logical to assume Leiter wants to make a grand impression first. How long he'd keep that up, I couldn't say." "Regardless, it's the only lead I have to go on to potentially try something. Now you were mentioning a Great Hall inside the Politburo building. How far up is that?" "How far up?" Stone wasn't at all sure where this was going but knew he should answer, "Well.....it's on the sixth floor as I recall. The open space actually takes up two floor levels." "And no other part of the building has a similar feature?" Tolen had moved over to Kylie's station and was looking at the readout on the Politburo building scan he had requested. "No, Colonel. Every other part of the building is.....quite standardized." "That's what I thought," Tolen felt a glimmer of hope developing for the first time. "Can it be accessed by a.....turbo lift?" "Well......if you're talking about an elevator, yes, there is an elevator that goes from an underground garage that opens out into the Great Hall. President Maxwell and I rode this elevator up to it when we signed the truce treaty two years ago." Tolen motioned Kylie to make more inputs into the scan data of the building. Now, a more extensive diagram emerged showing a tubular shaft running up through the building and going through the level that indicated the Great Hall." "All right, now if you were in the Great Hall as a guest, would you be situated near where this turbo lift, or elevator as you call it, opens out in the room, or would you be at the opposite end?" "You'd be at the opposite end if a formal ceremony was taking place," Stone said, "But if it's an informal discussion in a formal setting, there is a sort of......lounge area near the elevator entrance where the previous Supreme Commandant first received us." "Thank you, General. That's very helpful. We'll get back to you soon, and if you have news to pass on from your President, I'll receive it." Tolen shut off his headset and then went back over to Dr. Arnoff. "Doctor, I want you to begin preparations to use that teleportation device to send someone down to the planet. Kylie will give you the coordinates." "For what purpose?" The Electronics Scientist was baffled. "We're going to stage a little ambush of our own." Chapter Nine "That's the sum total of it, Mr. President," Stone said. Maxwell clenched the phone tightly as he took in the remarks. "It's exactly what I thought Leiter would demand. If he knows they're out of our quadrant of space, he never has to worry about any phantom "surprises" disrupting Alliance military plans again like what happened two years ago." "There is one thing," Stone tried not to sound overly optimistic, "Colonel Tolen may have some kind of plan of his own. At the very least he's going to try to stall for some time to see if he can put it into effect." "Then all we can do is keep sitting back and wait this out," Maxwell sank back in his chair. "All right, Stoney, thanks for the update." As soon as he put the phone down, the Deputy Chief of Staff entered the room, "Mr. President, we just heard back from the Holy See. The Supreme Pontiff is on the other side of the continent doing one of his mercy missions for the poor incognito. He won't be back until tomorrow but will see you then." "That almost seems appropriate, given what's been happening" Maxwell sighed. "I guess God has more important things to deal with than my problems." The deputy chief of staff shifted uneasily. "Um.....your daughter is waiting outside too." That caused the President to come upright, seemingly jolted out of his misery. "Oh. Let her come in." A moment later, Brenda Watts was hurrying in, full of concern. "Daddy, what's happened?" "Too much, Baby. Too much," he sighed as he rose to hug her. "Everything is falling apart and I have no idea what I can do." She sat down across from his desk, "Can you tell me?" "I shouldn't, but I will," he then gave a telescoped account of events that took several minutes. "Is it really that bad?" Brenda asked when he was done. "I mean.....is war going to break out if these people are killed?" "Brenda, it's probably going to be war one way or the other. If the Pegasus agrees to stay out, then Leiter becomes emboldened and we're back to the way it used to be, only this time the public's really going to have no appetite for standing up to the Alliance from now on." "But why?" "Because we didn't learn our lesson two years ago when it was staring us in the face," her father idly poured himself a drink. "Apollo, Starbuck and the Galactica gave us a miracle and it ended up being too good to be true. Instead of learning our lesson about eternal vigilance against evil, we got smug and complacent and basked in the glory of our wonderful treaty that gave us so much materially, and the public believed they'd never have to think about war again. Especially because our victory carried with it, the lie that we were responsible for what happened and not visitors from beyond the stars like Apollo and Starbuck. If the previous Supreme Commandant had actually known about the Galactica's existence, he never would have accepted the peace terms he agreed to." Maxwell let out a sigh, "I could have told the public there was a reason why we needed to keep military spending levels high. That we couldn't rely on a lopsided nuclear advantage and a miracle "shield" we never had, to protect ourselves from a resurgence of the Alliance. But I was afraid to tell them the truth. The people of Terra wanted a Golden Age of Peace and Prosperity and once they got it, they never wanted to see it end or sullied with higher defense budgets than seemed necessary. That meant lower defense budgets. Economizing on existing military programs. That's why I couldn't do something as simple as resettle Paradeen. It was going to take up too much of our 'Peace Dividend'. It was going to make the people of Terra think we had to do more than just keep our nuclear advantage and they didn't want to do that. If I tried telling them the truth......I know it would have meant losing the next election and seeing someone just like Arends back in power, which is the last thing we ever need." "You're not that cynical, Dad," Brenda was stunned to see him talk this way, "You had other reasons." "Yeah, yeah, I did," he conceded. "At the top of the list was my naive belief that even if the old Supreme Commandant got deposed, he'd be replaced by someone who still believed that what happened two years ago was our doing and not the work of outsiders. But I should have known better. I should have realized the kind of ticking time bomb Leiter was, because damn it, I....*we* knew that he'd been a prisoner briefly aboard the Galactica. He knew exactly that our military advantage that got us such favorable treaty terms wasn't as great as it seemed. And if he ended up in power, that would change everything. He'd start going back to how Alliance leaders used to operate, knowing that deep down, even with a nuclear advantage, we really don't have the stomach to fight. Hell, according to these people from the......Pegasus, Leiter tried to explode an abandoned Destroyer loaded with nuclear bombs over Paradeen just last week and if their fighters hadn't intercepted it, he'd have gotten away with it!" The President gulped down half of his drink and shook his head, "I boxed us in. I basically telegraphed a message to Leiter that all we had to really counter a resurgence of the Alliance was a nuclear advantage that deep down I don't have the guts to utilize because I don't have the guts for that kind of pre-emptive action." "Why should you?" his daughter protested. "Don't you remember what Apollo said? The thing that makes us different from the Alliance is the fact that we stand for something better." "Yes, that's exactly my point!" Maxwell raised his voice in frustration. "We *know* it's not in our nature to think of something like that. That should have made me tamp down the enthusiasm we got carried away with. But I failed to sacrifice my poll ratings for telling them the truth, and now that Leiter's running the show, the chickens are coming home to roost. Leiter knows we're not going to ever use our nuclear advantage in a sneak attack so that means we have to go back to vigilance. And I won't be able to sell the public on it this time. They've gotten too used to the Golden Age, they'll do anything they can to hold onto it, even if it means letting the Alliance get all the way back to what it was and going back to leadership as bad as Arends was." He turned his chair so he was looking out the window at the sight of prosperous Lemuria and all its magnificent skyscrapers. "Yesterday, I thought we'd been given a new miracle. The return of the Colonials. They could do something to set things right again and give us some new hope. But now.....I've underestimated Leiter again, and three innocent people are being held hostage who have no reason of self-interest to be involved in our quarrel with the Alliance, and all they have to do is just go on their merry way and tend to their own affairs. Which leaves us exposed like we've never been before." "Is it really going to come to that?" "If the Colonials agree and withdraw, it's bad for us. If they refuse and attack or if Leiter finds some other pretext for killing the hostages, it probably gives Leiter an excuse to make some hostile move on us *and* the Colonials that will be devastating. Either way.....it's bad. It's not what I wanted." he leaned back in his chair and sighed, "I need a miracle and I don't think I believe in them anymore. I can't even get the Supreme Pontiff to see me today because he's not available." He turned around to finally face his daughter. His expression lost. "There isn't anything you can do, Brenda. You.....might as well try catching a shuttle to Lunar One and spend some time with Charlie, because if things really hit the fan, he's probably not going to have any time to be with you." Brenda knew she couldn't say anything that would improve his attitude. She let out a sad, reluctant sigh. "I'll probably do that," she said quietly. "But.....don't ever think I'm not proud of you, Dad. And I'll keep praying for you." "Thanks, Baby," he turned around again, which was his signal that she needed to go now. "Right now, that does mean a lot." As one heart-to-heart talk between parent and child ended in the Presidium Building, another was still ongoing within walking distance of it. "I want the truth, Ronald," Arthur Moore had grabbed his son by the wrist and was staring coldly into his eyes. "I want to know if you talked to anyone after I left last night." His son tried to shake himself free but his father's grip was too powerful. It always had been down through the years from the first time he'd applied the strap to him as a child. "Answer me!" the Chief of Staff raised his voice. Ronald slowly shook his head, "You've got a lot of nerve asking something like that." "Do I?" he didn't back down. "The President leaving for the Retreat was never publicly announced. Only General Stone and myself were told before his vehicle picked us up. The driver and the security teams didn't even know that was the final destination until over an hour later after we were at Central Flight Operations. In order for that commando team to have been in place by Lake Cascade when they were, they would have needed a heads-up *much* earlier. And that means you were the only one who could have told someone that something important was happening there." His son said nothing. "I can have the security tapes of this building checked to see if you went somewhere after I left, and I can also get the phone company to check every call that went out from this place. And believe me, Ronald, I intend to check!" "You'd really think that of me," he shook his head, "You'd really think I could do what you're saying." "Maybe I should take a closer look at your bank account!" he raised his voice, "Maybe I should do some investigating and find out if you've *really* had enough work as a private solicitor to make an honest living! What will I find then?" "I don't need to listen to this," an edge of defiance entered the young man's voice. "Go ahead and kick me out. I don't care anymore. If you say we're through, then okay. I've pretty much been used to not having a father all my life." "And don't give me some sanctimonious bullshit about how my being a bad parent drove you to whatever it is you've done!" Moore refused to be moved, "I know I haven't been the best, but I honestly thought our meetings for lunch was a way of healing all that. Instead, you used me. Used me to get little bits and pieces of insights probably no Alliance Intelligence analyst ever could have gotten on his or her own. I may have never given you classified details of secret meetings, but now I can see why a maniac like Leiter can do the things he does without having to worry about a pre-emptive nuclear strike. I've basically been telling his best mole that the President has no stomach for it!" "Let go of me," his voice was a whisper. "Only when the National Police have you in detention on charges of treason," his father hissed. "And I'm not going to plead for mercy for you if so much as one of those hostages die, Ronald. You can be certain of that!" Suddenly driven by panic, Ronald felt a surge of adrenaline through his body that allowed him to shake free from his father's grip. He bolted toward the door but his father managed to position himself in front of him. "You're not going anywhere!" His son, driven only by a survivor's instinct at this point, blindly thrust his arm and drove it with intense force right into the neck collar his father had been wearing. Even with the collar, the force of the blow was strong enough to penetrate through the layers and aggravate the effect of his earlier injury. The Chief of Staff then staggered away from the door which gave his panicked son just enough time to open the door and dash out. The effect of the blow was too much for Arthur Moore to overcome as he staggered several more steps before collapsing unconscious by the sofa. It was just seconds after he collapsed that his phone began to ring. "His subordinate is a man filled with many insecurities," Leiter said with a haughty air as they exited the elevator that had taken them from his office two floors down to the Great Hall level. "This situation is his first real test of command and he is desperately trying to act like he is not in over his head." "Supreme Commandant," Canaris said patiently, "What about the wounded hostage?" "I already saw to that," Leiter gave him no notice. "We will wait for a report on his condition." The Intelligence Chief was on the verge of reaching out to touch Leiter's shoulder to get him to stop, but he held back at the last instant, knowing what kind of reaction that would provoke. "But Commandant, we should at least get an update on his condition!" "If you want to waste time doing that, Canaris, call the Hospital and you can report his condition later. For now it is of no consequence to me. I'm more interested in seeing how stubborn this......Commander Cain is." "Shall we remove them to the Detention Center, Excellence?" Kontarsky asked. "Not yet," Leiter shook his head. "For now, we shall continue to mix tough talk with hospitality. However," a smirk formed on his face, "What Commander Adama's wife says and does during this next phase will determine whether or not she will be visiting the Detention Center." Canaris stopped walking as he felt a wave of disgust go through him. Not bothering to keep up with him, he turned and began to go in the opposite direction. After going another ten feet, Leiter abruptly stopped and looked back at the Intelligence Chief was a suspicious air, "Where are you going, Canaris?" "I am heeding your suggestion, Commandant," Canaris said evenly. "I will contact the hospital and request an update on the prisoner's condition." "Very well," Leiter glared, "But be quick about it. I want you back in the Great Hall in less than ten minutes." The Intelligence Chief stiffly bowed and gave his heels a proper click, "Of course, Commandant." Leiter watched him retreat back toward the elevator. The suspicious air in him increasing. "Excellence?" "When this whole affair is over, Kontarsky, I'm going to give his service file a thorough examination." "After the device is used, how much time must elapse before it can be activated again?" Dr. Arnoff let out a sigh, "The unit itself could be used again in as little as two centons, but----" "But?" Tolen pushed. "The unit can be ready soon enough, it's the risk of a power surge overload from using it again too soon. It could knock out power to the whole Lab or cause other feedback overloads and even worse it might have a serious impact on whoever is using it second." "We're going to have to take that risk, Doctor. I need a minimum of two people to use it if this is going to have any chance of success. Sending just one isn't likely going to be enough." "But you don't have any guarantee that the Commander and the Professor are there!" "I haven't got anything else to go on, Doctor!" Tolen retorted. "I'm going to make this attempt if it means a chance at getting them freed without resorting to a military attack on the city." "You're forgetting something else, Colonel," the Electronics Scientist said. "Using this device means a one-way trip. There's no way I can use it to get someone back." "Don't you think I know that?" the Executive Officer snapped. "If I thought you *had* the capability to get someone back up at random, I'd be telling you to use it to transport every last person who's on that floor! At any rate, the details of the plan are not your concern, Doctor. Just get back to your lab and get that machine ready to send someone to these coordinates that should correspond to the underground garage position next to the turbo lift unit of that building." He gave the coordinates to Arnoff who nodded and quickly left the Bridge. "Kylie," Tolen turned back to the Bridge Officer, "Run this through CAP immediately. I want the two most qualified people we have in areas of firearms training, intelligence subterfuge and martial arts combat and have them report to the Electronics Lab. Viper Pilots are to be excluded. I can't spare any of them for this mission." "Yes, sir," she switched to a new program. "Colonel, I don't get what your plan is," Ham was totally confused. "We're going to improvise a disruption, Major," Tolen said. "I know it carries risks, but.....the only other alternatives are an all-out attack which we need to avoid, or outright capitulation to his demand, which we can't do." "Is it really much of a demand, Colonel?" Ham asked. "We told the Zykonians their war with the Ziklagi was none of our business, and we went out of our way to make sure we didn't tangle with the Risiks. Is this war any different just because they're human and not alien?" "Cain is the only one who can make that decision, Major," Tolen retorted. "If he orders me to honor that demand, then fine. But if Leiter is still pressing me to make the decision, then that means Cain's blown him off on the subject. So that whole question of yours is a non-starter as far as any decision *I* make is concerned. Is that understood?" "Yes, sir, it is," the senior Bridge Officer nodded. "I only wanted the matter put openly on the record." "Noted. Now let's get back to putting this whole thing together. Kylie, what does the CAP readout say?" The female helmsman was staring dubiously at the screen. "Kylie?" "Um.....CAP recommendation is.......Sergeant McCalla and......." she then turned around and looked him in the eye, "Me." This took both Tolen and Ham by surprise. "You?" the Executive Officer asked. "Um.....I did score first in martial arts instruction when I went through Recruit Basic Training. I think that's what CAP is being influenced by," she then added, "And.....there was that one time I had to be part of a landing party at the Serenity Colony two yahrens ago." "Oh yes," Tolen suddenly recalled the event, which had been one of the more unusual ones during the two and a half yahren interlude between their leaving the Galactica and Ila's arrival. But then his frown deepened, "But with your skills in Recruit Training, how did you end up a Bridge Officer?" She took a breath, "Because my Drill Instructor refused to approve any women in his group from being assigned to Colonial Security. And since I have no flying skills that left me with fewer assignment options." "All right, all right. But clearly you have maintained your efficiency ratings in your spare time, or else CAP wouldn't have picked you. That also applies to firing range practice." "Yes, sir, I have," Kylie acknowledged. "It's just.....I didn't think my ratings equaled or exceeded anyone else's." "I guess you've been selling yourself short," Tolen picked up the unicom, "Sergeant McCalla, report to the Electronics Lab, immediately." He then turned back to Ham, "If any new messages come from Leiter or from Stone, tie them into the Lab immediately so I can talk to them." "Yes, sir." "Kylie, let's go. You'll need to stop by your quarters first and change from that Bridge uniform to combat dress." Somewhat in a daze, the young woman rose from her station and followed him out. "What do you mean the prisoner was placed on low priority for treatment?" Canaris was taken aback by the report the doctor had just given him. "That was the order we received from Group Commandant Kontarsky." "The situation is changed. Move him up to *High* Priority, immediately!" "But.....General Canaris, I would need to receive that order from the Group Commandant." "The Group Commandant is busy with the Supreme Commandant interrogating the other hostages," Canaris snapped. "And right now, the situation requires that his case be made high priority. If he dies then our leverage with the other hostages decreases. Do it now, and don't ask anymore questions!" "Yes, General." An angry Canaris tried not to slam the phone down. He didn't need any further convincing that the Supreme Commandant was a sadistic madman. Only a sadist would have given an order to treat the case as low priority and run the risk of a convenient death that would then be chalked up to a mere unfortunate set of circumstances beyond anyone's control. What else can I do at this point? he thought grimly as he made his way back toward the Great Hall. "Well, Commander," Leiter said as he entered the Great Hall once again and resumed his seat on the couch opposite from Cain and Ila, "Perhaps this interlude has made you see things more.....clearly now?" Cain folded his arms and glared at him, "I'm still waiting for an apology for that remark about Commander Adama." Leiter let out a mocking laugh, "It's so amusing how such trifles are obsessed over by the decadent. I shall balance my remark by conceding that as a Commander, Adama is a formidable and brilliant individual. Certainly more brilliant than *any* leader the Nationalists have ever produced. After all, *he* is the reason why the Nationalists were able to inflict a humiliation upon the Alliance two years ago. Without him.....the Nationalist cause would have been crushed underfoot long ago." He then shifted his gaze over to Ila, whose cold, hate-filled expression hadn't changed. "You should be offended, Dear Lady, by how the Nationalists refuse to give credit where credit is due. They lull their decadent population into believing they are the masters of their Fate, when they needed outside help to survive. But deep down, they know their only hope is to force your people into taking all the risks for them. Is that truly worth it, when the only thing that ultimately results is such total ingratitude from a worthless population as the Nationalists are?" "Don't refer to me as 'Dear Lady', again," she wished she could spit in his face. Leiter's mocking air only increased as he leaned back in the sofa. "You really should learn to improve your conversational skills......Professor Ila. I would have no choice but to remove you to less.....pleasant accommodations if it became clear you were serving no purpose here." "Over my dead body," Cain hissed and came forward ever so slightly in his chair. "I can believe that," Leiter was nonplused, "Perhaps I can also believe it that the current separation between Commander Adama and his wife indicates something.....else?" Finally, Ila had had enough. "You know something, Mr. Leiter," she purposefully refused to use any title with him, "You remind me of the primary school student who instead of spending his time attending to his studies, got his jollies beating up little girls on the playground. Because that's all you are. A third-rate playground bully." He laughed, "Well at the very least, *Professor*, you've guaranteed your continued presence here because you're now showing a capacity to be amusing. Though when it comes to the final decision," he looked over at Cain, "The dominant one of the species I'm sure will be the one making it." "I want an update on Lieutenant Bryce's condition," Cain wasn't going to engage in any give and take. At this point, he intended to keep his remarks terse.....and to the point. "I don't have anything to report." "But I do, Commandant." Leiter's head whipped around as did Kontarsky's as they saw Canaris enter through the side door behind the lounge area. "I have just spoken with the Hospital Center at our airbase," the Intelligence Chief sat down in the chair to Leiter's right which was nearer to Ila. "The wounded prisoner is at the *high* priority of treatment and there will be further news on his condition within the hour." A dark cloud came over Leiter's face as well as a slight frown on Kontarsky's. But both quickly recovered themselves as the Supreme Commandant smiled with insincere courtesy at Cain. "There. You see, Commander? You have nothing to be concerned about regarding your wounded crewman." "I suppose I don't," Cain said quietly, taking stock of what he had just witnessed. It was clear he'd seen the first sign of division in the ranks of Alliance leadership. A sign that if he was right suddenly made Leiter seem much less formidable, and only confirmed what he'd been feeling in his gut earlier. That for all his bravado and madman behavior, there was an underlying desperation at the core of Leiter's actions. Without a guarantee of non-interference by the Pegasus, all his plans for Alliance greatness could never come to pass. "When can we discuss his release?" "After we receive news that he is recovered," Leiter said. "Surely it is folly to discuss those particulars when their work is not finished?" "If you have faith in the efficiency of Alliance doctors, then surely it is practical to move ahead and have the necessary plan already in place?" Leiter's eyes narrowed as if he realized that a tactical point had been made that he couldn't dismiss. Though inside he was still seething at what he was convinced was a clear case of insubordination by Canaris. "What sort of 'plan' are you suggesting, Commander?" "An unarmed shuttle from my ship will land at your airbase and await the arrival of Lieutenant Bryce," Cain said. "No personnel from inside the shuttle will leave it at any time. Once your men load him aboard, he will be transported back to the Pegasus. And then the ongoing situation will be considerably.....simplified." For the first time, both Cain and Ila could tell that Leiter was off-stride just a bit. Denied of his ability to easily boast. It was something Cain knew he had to keep the advantage with for as long as he could. If Tolen is planning something, guaranteeing the presence of a shuttle on the ground could end up helping that. The Supreme Commandant glanced over at Kontarsky who could only offer him a shrug at this point, which meant he had no counter-offer to suggest. He refused to look over at Canaris. "Very well," there was no mistaking the reluctance, "But this is my last concession to you regarding preliminaries, Commander. Once your Lieutenant is removed from the planet, we will finally return to the issue at hand concerning your fate......and the Professor's." "May I inform the Pegasus of this?" for the first time, Cain's voice came close to that of politeness. "We will inform them," Leiter said coldly. "You and the Professor will remain here." "Then how can I be sure that you will have actually relayed this to the Pegasus?" Cain gently retorted. Leiter smirked, "You'll have to take my word for it, Commander. And as I said, there will be no further concessions on this point." The three Alliance men rose but Leiter abruptly put his hand up in front of Canaris. "No need for you to accompany us, General," the Supreme Commandant said, "Group Commandant Kontarsky and I will attend to the matter. You may continue to entertain our.....guests." Canaris knew it was too dangerous to protest. He obediently resumed his seat. And then, both Leiter and Kontarsky exited through the side door. "I was wrong," Leiter said as soon as he and Kontarsky were alone in the corridor that would take them to the auxiliary elevator and from there to Leiter's office. "It isn't Canaris's service record that will have to be checked when this is over. He'll need to be scheduled for immediate execution." "But Canaris has been a devoted patriot for more than a generation, Excellence!" "To what, Kontarsky?" Leiter turned on him, "To his country, yes. To the Natural Order? That, I seriously doubt. His patriotism is merely the accident of geographical birth location." "But even so, Excellence, we could ill afford to dispose of him without having an efficient successor lined up." "That we will attend to in due course. But as of now, his fate is sealed." The military commander knew he shouldn't argue, even though he found this unsettling. Even though he had enthusiastically cheered the purges that had included the execution of the previous Supreme Commandant, this was different. "Do you plan on relaying the message?" he finally asked. "Of course," the smugness returned to Leiter's voice. "I will tell them they can send a shuttle down to wait. The only difference is that once they arrive, we'll immediately launch an assault on it and add several more hostages to our ranks." When the door to Room 1203 of Tower East in the Sky Plaza Hotel on Lemuria opened, Tricia Halper was not pleased to see the trembling form of her occasional lover standing there. "You're not supposed to contact me this way," she said coldly as he entered the room. "I have to talk to you," there was panic in his voice. "My father....he knows about me." Her displeasure increased, "How?" "He just.....reasoned it out! I couldn't do anything about it." "You're obviously not a good bluffer." "It's hard to be when a man like him looks you in the eye and *knows*," Ronald collapsed into a chair near the bed and put his hand to his forehead, "I.....had to knock him out to get away. I don't.....even know if he's still alive or not!" Tricia took in that piece of information, "So......no one else knows what he suspects?" "No," he whispered as he rubbed his temples. "I.....don't think so." "And what do you want me to do?" He looked up at her voluptuous form, which had been an excellent source of temptation to him the last two years. "Get me out of Nationalist Territory. I'm useless to the Alliance as a source now." "Hmmm," she purred thoughtfully, "That's something we can consider......later." "Later?" A seductive edge formed at the corner of her mouth as she slipped off the strap of her red negligee that she was wearing. "Later," the Alliance spy said simply as it fell to her feet. "Much later." "Krebs, is it?" Canaris called over to Leiter's aide, who had remained in front of the main elevator, flanked by Neumann and one of the other commandos from the raid. "Yes," he stepped forward. "I think our......guests could use some refreshment," the Intelligence Chief said. "Have something brought in." Krebs looked suspiciously at the two Colonials. This time, Cain seemed more deferential since it was Canaris who had made the offer. "I could use one," the Juggernaut said, "Something.....not too strong." "See to it," Canaris said. That brought a nod from Krebs and he went out the same door Leiter and Kontarsky had exited. The Intelligence Chief leaned closer to the two Colonials, "I would get shot for saying this openly, but.......I regret very much what has happened." "I can tell," Cain kept his voice low. "You're.....not like him." "And I am certain there are many others not like him in our ranks," Canaris said, "It is unfortunately......hard to know who does and does not fall into that category." "What can you do?" Ila asked, her voice also low. "Very little," Canaris said, "But.....I did see to it that your wounded man was moved from low priority at the Hospital Central to high priority. It might make a difference for him." "I appreciate that," Cain said, "Why tell us this?" "Only to let you know that regardless of whatever might happen.......do not think we are all formed from the same mold. Some of us.....truly would welcome an end to......war." The sound of the door opening and Krebs returning with a tray of drinks made them all lean back again and end the quick, quiet conversation they'd just shared. "A lot of risk is involved with this operation," Tolen said as he pointed to a large screen blowup showing the Politburo building. "But it's a risk that has to be taken before anything more drastic has to be contemplated that could involve potentially greater losses of life. I hope that's clear to both of you, Sergeant McCalla, and you, Officer Kylie. And that's the reason I felt it necessary to rely on the CAP assessment of who is best qualified for this operation and not a random, subjective one." "Colonel, I understand," McCalla said quietly, even though he'd felt his heart jump a bit when he heard that he would be the first human to go through Dr. Arnoff's teleportation device. "Good," Tolen pointed to the bottom of the image, "The coordinates tie in to the transport garage facility located in the building's basement level. You are to then go to the only turbo-lift to the sixth, that is the *sixth* level where the Great Hall is located and where our best estimate is that the Commander and the Professor have been detained." "And if they're not there?" "You have two options if that's the case," Tolen said, "One is to bid a hasty retreat back the way you came, which I would recommend *if* the room is heavily guarded. On the other hand, if the room is lightly guarded or empty......then other options present themself." "I understand, sir," McCalla nodded. "We take out a guard and try to ascertain precisely where the Commander and the Professor are." "Exactly. But on the other hand, if we're right, and they are there and near to the turbo lift, then your objective is even more clear. You take out the guards in near proximity and more importantly, you get your spare lasers that you're going to be taking with you, and get them in the hands of Cain and Ila as fast as you can. The Commander's record in personal combat speaks for itself, but the Professor apparently has some skills too from her work in the Resistance. If you can get a weapon into her hands, then it becomes four superior armed people able to.....change the balance." "You mean take Leiter hostage?" Kylie asked, still coming to terms with the fact that she was about to do something she hadn't been able to contemplate since her Recruit training days nearly six yahrens ago. Even the one mission on Serenity that had forced her to use her old martial arts training had represented something different. Freeing herself from the unwanted attention of a lustful Boray. "That's one option," Tolen said flatly. "If you think it's necessary......then do it." The chime from the Bridge sounded and Tolen went over to answer it, "Yes?" "Commandant Leiter again. He has a new message for you, sir," Ham reported. "Put him through," Tolen pressed the switch to make sure everyone else in the room would hear it. "This is Supreme Commandant Leiter. Are you there......Colonel?" "Yes, I am," Tolen kept his voice even. "Do you have some news?" "Only this. After discussing the matter with your Commander, you may send in an unarmed shuttle to retrieve your wounded crewman after he is released from Hospital Central. Your men will *not* be allowed to deplane the shuttle. They are to wait on the runway at our Central Airbase until your man is brought to them. The shuttle will then be allowed to peacefully depart," he then paused and added coldly, "And you may *not* provide any armed escort. If there is so much as one other ship launched into orbit......I will be forced to conclude you are engaging in a double-cross." "Thank you, Commandant," Tolen wasn't going to engage in any verbal combat after hearing this, "We will observe those terms. A shuttle will be launched.......shortly. I am to assume that the greater topic is still at an......impasse?" "We will discuss that matter again after your man is removed according to these terms." the finality was clear in Leiter's voice, "Signing off." Tolen switched off the intercom and suddenly a smile came over his face. "The Lords of Kobol are so far with us," he said, "The matter of how you get off the planet has just been taken care of. If things get that dire, you have a shuttle to aim for. You'll obviously have your active com-lines to check in with them as you will with us." "That does increase things in our favor," McCalla admitted. Tolen picked up the unicom, "Attention. Lieutenant Banker, Lieutenant Angus, Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Tegran report to Alpha Bay for imminent shuttle launch. Check in with Core Command for final instructions before launching." The Executive Officer looked back at the two warriors. "All right. We're getting down to the wire before we go ahead with this. Any final questions?" "I have one!" Dr. Arnoff said from the back of the room, where he was making the final touches on the teleportation device. "I still think it would be better to send one of the centurions! They've been tested on this." "We're not conducting scientific experiments, Doctor!" Tolen snapped, "We're talking about the lives of Commander Cain and Professor Ila. In this scenario, I need human beings on the ground who have greater speed and mobility. With all due respect to our new Cylon friends, their mobility is still somewhat restricted and that's not likely to be the best thing to utilize in an operation like this. Why do you think I asked for people with martial arts training?" "I'm just giving a reminder that we never even tested this for human use on closed quarter transport," Arnoff said. "The first planetary experiments were to start from the bottom up." Kylie had finally hit her breaking point, "Dr. Arnoff, I think it would be more helpful if you'd keep your pessimism to yourself!" "Likewise," McCalla said. "Just let us get this over with." The reactions of the two who'd be going on the mission had a sobering effect on the Electronics Chief. "My apologies," he said quietly. "I.....will do my best." "Sergeant, since you're in tactical command of this, you'll go first. When you arrive.....just key in your com-line without saying anything. Kylie will then follow when recharging is complete. The reason the garage was picked rather than the Great Hall itself was to find a theoretically empty area that would give enough time for two people to be sent in. If we'd teleported directly to the Great Hall, we could only have sent one." "I understand, sir," McCalla rose from his seat. "I'm ready." The blonde sergeant made his way to the spot directly under the overhead nozzle. He stood at attention with his com-line in his hand. Two laser guns were on each side of his weapons belt along with two detonators. "Planetary coordinates are inputted in relation to our orbital position," Arnoff's voice became professional and monotonic. "There should be a......tingling sensation. The firsthand accounts of Agro-Tech Wallis from his experiences on Brylon say there might be some lightheadedness initially upon re-materialization, but it will pass quickly. Will activate in ten microns. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three, Two. One. MARK!" And then, Dr. Arnoff pressed several switches and a blueish beam emerged from overhead. The others in the room saw the lights dim slightly as well as some of the adjoining computer terminals owing to the massive power drain that was now taking place in this part of the ship. The light enveloped the Colonial Security Guard completely and cast a sparking glow over the outline of his body........and then he was gone. An uneasy silence filled the air for the next few microns. When Tolen broke it, his voice was low and hesitant. "How long should it take?" "Down to a planet?" Arnoff shrugged. "Allowing for a multiplication factor of fifty from the maximum length I've tested it.......I'd give it......two centons." The scientist idly pressed several switches and a whirring sound indicated that the device was recharging itself for future use. Underneath the noise, Kylie found herself staring at the device and felt her breathing growing heavier to the point where she wondered if she might start to hyperventilate. Why me? And then......after what seemed an eternity, the beeping sound of an active com-line filled the room. Abruptly, Tolen, Kylie and Arnoff all let out long slow exhales of relief. "Lords be praised," the Executive Officer said softly. "Okay, Kylie. Godspeed." "Thank you, sir," the inner terror she'd been feeling had passed now that there was proof that the Zykonian teleportation device actually worked. If anything it was giving her a renewed sense of appreciation for the fact that she was needed for such an important task. Especially one that meant trying to save the life of Cain. A leader she idolized and was proud to serve under. With extra weapons in place and her com-line in her hand she took her place under the device and waited with calm serenity. Two centons later, she found herself standing in a darkened underground room where all kinds of ancient transport vehicles were lined up in individual spaces. "Kylie!" she heard McCalla whisper, "Over here!" Feeling just a faint trace of lightheadedness, Kylie saw him crouched by a vehicle that was parked nearest to what looked like the door leading to the turbo-lift. She made her way over to him as quickly as possible, stumbling slightly but then catching her bearings. "You okay?" the blonde sergeant asked. "Yeah," the female bridge officer rubbed her head. "A little lightheaded, but.....I think it'll pass." "It will. Praise the Lords, that Arnoff is a genius. The thing really works." "At the very least, it proves he knows how to read a Zykonian blueprint well," she said. "Do we move in now?" "Not yet," McCalla shook his head. "I'm going to push the button for that turbo-lift and then get back here. It's possible someone could be coming down in it so we don't move in until that door opens and we see it's empty. Then we go in." "Suggestion," Kylie felt the memories of war game exercises in Recruit Training coming back to her, "If we have to take anyone out when they come out of there, we should also grab their weapons and maybe even.....take their clothes. That way, once we step off the turbo lift on level six, we won't have to necessarily go in with guns blazing." "Noted and considered," McCalla said. "We'll see if that option is available when the door opens." In a low crouch, he hurried across the darkened area and pressed the up arrow button on the side of the elevator door. Then, he hurried back to where Kylie was waiting. Thirty microns passed. Once they heard the sound of a vehicle engine that caused them both to flinch, but they realized it was far away and wouldn't pass near them. Another thirty microns. "I think it's stopping at other levels on its way down," he said. "No way will it be empty when it gets here." Slowly, Kylie detached her main laser pistol on the right side of her belt and held it at the ready. When the door opened, they saw three Alliance soldiers in gray uniforms and helmets emerge. They immediately opened fire and the three collapsed to the ground unconscious. The two warriors scrambled across and got inside the elevator. Immediately, they saw on the control panel interior, a button marked, "Automatic Stop." "We can hold our position for a centon or two," McCalla said as he pressed it. Now the door was closed but the elevator would stay where it was. "Let's implement your suggestion, Kylie." "Shuttle is away," Ham reported as Tolen returned to the Bridge. The Executive Officer put his headset back on, "Alpha Shuttle, this is Tolen. When you're on the ground, I want two of you waiting in the landram. You might end up facing an armed assault from a group of people who don't plan on keeping their word, and you also might have to provide protective cover for our assault team. Regardless, just have that landram ready in case it's needed." "Acknowledge that, Core Command," Banker replied, "We'll be ready." Tolen went over to Altair's station. "Com-lines still active?" "Still active, sir." "Put me through to General Stone." The communications officer pressed several buttons, "General Stone standing by." "General, this is Tolen. We're sending in our own operatives to end this stand-off. If the Alliance initiates any hostile move against your people as a result of this......I give you my pledge we will not stand by idly." The Nationalist General sounded uneasy, "How soon will you know if it works or not?" "Give it a matter of.......minutes." "Ah, I see you're learning to sample some of the finer things of Alliance culture," Leiter noted as he and Kontarsky re-entered the room and saw Cain and Ila sipping from glasses. "The quality of the hospitality took a distinct turn for the better," Cain said as he put his glass down. The drink had the quality of ambrosia, but not quite to the level he would have considered good. Leiter and Kontarsky resumed their places in the lounge area. "At any rate, now that we have taken care of that matter regarding your crewman......we can return to the immediate subject. The wisdom of your permanent withdrawal from Terran space and Terran affairs." Cain looked at him, "And just how, Commandant, is that supposed to be "wise" from my standpoint?" "You save your resources for the battles that are more important," he said. "Your fight against that race of machines for instance." "That's certainly more important in the grander scheme of things," Cain said, "But.....this war that goes on is not without interest to us. Especially when it concerns issues of who.....controls things that are of importance to our struggle." Leiter frowned, "What are you talking about?" "Advanced technology that your people, Nationalist and Alliance alike have both forgotten about," Cain said. "Technology that goes back to the very beginning of time when Terra was first settled." The Alliance leader was clearly taken aback by this revelation. "You.....know of such technology?" "Of course," Cain said, "Why do you think the Pegasus came to Terra in the first place? It wasn't your war with the Nationalists that was our first concern. It was locating that technology that does exist and which we intend to find." Leiter found his facade wavering, "You.....can lead us to such technology?" "No," Cain shook his head, "I would *never* lead *you* to such technology, Commandant. Because it's obvious to me what you would do if you had such technology at your disposal." Immediately, the stiff-lipped edge returned to the Supreme Commandant. "You *will* lead us to it, Commander! You and the Dear Lady have no choice in the matter!" McCalla and Kylie had both exchanged their uniform jackets for the gray outer tunics of the Alliance soldiers they'd stunned and also donned the helmets with the upper face shields. To Kylie's relief, one the soldiers was of smaller build so that his outer tunic and helmet wasn't that oversized on her. Even so, she kept the helmet tilted back just a bit. "Okay," McCalla said as he readjusted his weapons belt. "Your belt secure?" "Secure," Kylie said. "Going up," the Sergeant calmly released the automatic stop button and pressed the indicator for the sixth floor. "What do you mean, he's unconscious? What the hell happened to him?" Maxwell gripped the phone so tight that he felt like he was going to crush it. "We don't know, Mr. President. We're getting Mr. Moore to a hospital as fast as we can. I don't think it's life threatening but he needs immediate treatment." Before the President could say anything else, the deputy chief of staff was cutting in, "General Stone on the other line, sir. Urgent!" "Damn it!" the President hissed. "Put him on!" "Bob, they're going in! I don't know how, but the situation's going to change in a few minutes!" Suddenly, all the anguish and fury disappeared from Maxwell. As though the news that it was all out of his hands now and depended on the actions of others had put him in a state of calm like that of being the eye in the middle of a turbulent hurricane. "Okay, Stoney," he said, "Cross your fingers.....and pray." The elevator passed each of the first five floors without stopping. When it reached the sixth floor, the two Colonials both assumed rigid postures as they waited for the door to open. McCalla on the left, Kylie on the right. When it opened, they both saw the vastness of the room before them and their minds in the space of less than five microns were able to process several things. The first, was that three men stood just five feet in front of them in an orderly row, two in black-suited commando type uniforms, while the third was an older man in a gray uniform. The second, was that at the far end of the room, another half dozen uniformed men with firearms were in position. And the third, courtesy of Kylie's vantage point and her peripheral vision, was the sight of the lounge area to the right where she could see three men in what could only be high ranking uniforms while on the sofa across from them, were the unmistakable forms of Cain and Ila. Even with just their backs visible to them, there was no mistaking them. Sergeant McCalla, who like Kylie had been first in his martial arts class in Recruit Basic Training, took the first step out and promptly delivered an expert blow square in the back of the black-suited man on the left. He collapsed to the floor unconscious. Kylie then grabbed the wrist of the older man on the right and with a burst of inner strength she recalled from training, was able to drag him inside the elevator and slam him against the wall. A stunned Krebs barely had time to look up and see the face of an attractive woman pulling off her stolen Alliance helmet and slamming it against his forehead, which knocked him out cold. That only left Neumann among the three near the elevator. The commando leader had by now darted around and come face-to-face with McCalla and the two quickly locked arms. As McCalla and Neumann struggled, Kylie darted out and quickly detached one of her two detonators. At the back end of the Great Hall, the six armed Alliance guards had begun reaching for their firearms and running toward the front. But the vastness of the distance they had to cover meant they had only gone a quarter of the way when the detonator Kylie had hurled at them landed at their fleet and exploded. Before the explosion had taken place, Leiter was up on his feet and had detached his own sidearm. But the shockwave caused it to fall out of his hand and clatter on the table, right in front of Ila. Immediately, she was diving for it but Leiter managed to push her aside which caused her to fall off the sofa to the floor, where she now found herself under the table. Cain, in the meantime, had spun round when the commotion had broken out and had then gotten to his feet. His first instinct had been to find some way of protecting Ila, but the explosion from the detonator had also knocked him off his feet to the floor. Before he could get up, the Juggernaut then found himself looking up into a pistol angrily being held by Kontarsky. A wave of anger and adrenaline filled the Juggernaut as he slammed his fists directly into the Alliance Commander's groin area, which caused him to stagger backward and tumble over his chair. "Commander!" Kylie shouted as she detached the second pistol she was carrying and tossed it over to him. The Juggernaut grabbed it and immediately turned his attention behind him, looking for Ila. To his horror, he saw that Leiter had grabbed her and now held his own firearm at her throat. "Drop it, Commander, or this dear lady dies! That goes for all of you!" But before Cain could react to that, Ila suddenly slammed her free right wrist directly into the spot of his neck where his windpipe lay. The force of the blow caused him to gasp and stagger back. That gave Ila the time she needed to break free from his grasp and she then proceeded to violently wrench his right arm backward with such furious force that it let out a snapping sound that startled both Cain and Kylie. The Supreme Commandant let out a howl of pain as Ila shoved him back down into the sofa and then retrieved the firearm he'd dropped. Breathing with fury, the blonde Academician turned Resistance fighter pressed it squarely against Leiter's bruised windpipe. "Don't *ever* call me 'Dear Lady' again!" she said with more hate than she'd ever uttered in her entire life. Cain turned his attention back to where he saw McCalla still struggling with Neumann. When the Sergeant managed to shove him backward, leaving him exposed, Cain promptly fired at the commando leader and sent him into unconsciousness. "Good work, Kylie," Cain patted her on the shoulder as he made his way over to help McCalla to his feet. As soon as he'd helped him up, the three Pegasus personnel then saw that Canaris, the last of the Alliance personnel, was now pointing his firearm at them. And then, Canaris hunched himself over the back of the sofa, where Ila still had Leiter's firearm pointed at his throat. "Professor," Canaris said gently, "Lower your weapon." "General," Cain trained his laser pistol at him, "I think you're the one who should lower your weapon." Canaris looked at him, his tone gentle. "No, Commander. You'll see what I mean. Just tell the Professor to lower her weapon. I won't harm her. Or you for that matter." Ila was still seething with hate as she kept the weapon jammed against Leiter's windpipe. The Supreme Commandant was still moaning with pain from his wrenched and broken right arm. "Professor, please," Canaris's voice was even more gentle. "Move away from him." A glimmer of understanding was beginning to form in Cain's head. Slowly, he lowered his pistol. "Ila," Cain said gently, "Do as he says." The Academician forced herself to look at Cain and the two warriors who stood next to him. She shook her head vigorously at first, but then, slowly she rose from the sofa and with a slight stagger in her step, made her way back toward the three of them. Immediately, Kylie reached out and steadied her. Leiter then looked up and saw that Canaris's weapon was pointed at him. "Supreme Commandant Leiter," Canaris said simply, "I declare you guilty of treason against the state and other crimes against the people of our nation. The sentence is death." And then.......without blinking an eye, the Intelligence Chief opened fire right into the middle of Leiter's forehead. The Supreme Commandant went limp and collapsed to the floor. Canaris then looked over at the four Colonials, "I think it was far better for me to be the instrument of his punishment than you, Professor Ila. This way......you need not ever have a troubled conscience about killing in cold blood." Ila, who could feel the beginnings of a delayed reaction to all that she'd gone through, managed to fight it back down so she could slowly nod her head. "And now, Commander Cain, if a shuttle from your ship is still arriving at the Airbase, I will see to it that all of you are escorted there, and that your wounded crewman will be released as well. In the event that madman ordered an ambush on your shuttle......I will make sure that doesn't happen. As of now, this incident is over." Canaris paused and then added forcefully, "And perhaps at last......so is the war." From the other side of the room, Kontarsky was slowly getting to his feet. A look of shock and horror on his face. "Canaris....." he forced the words out, "Canaris.....how....." "Kontarsky," he said, "I'm about to give you a choice. Either pledge your loyalty to me and promise to do what you can to end this senseless madness we've gone through with the Nationalists for too long now, or else......end up like him. The choice is yours." "I....." he looked down at Leiter's lifeless form. "It's......treason." "Not against our nation, Kontarsky," Canaris said, "Only against an infernal piece of claptrap called the Natural Order, which has stunted our growth and our productive potential for generations while we regimented our nation into a soulless order devoid of anything meaningful and fought an endless set of destructive wars against our brother humans the Nationalists for absolutely *nothing* that was meaningful. A competition among nations for power and influence is one thing. A war for the sake of an evil, meaningless principle......that's insanity. It's time we recognize that true patriotism means learning to finally say no to all that. To end this mindless conflict and let something....new come to this planet and this star system at long last." "I......," the Army Commander then slowly nodded, "I.....will follow you." "Excellent," Canaris smiled and looked back at the Colonials, "You see, Commander, I think underneath, many loyal soldiers of the Alliance are more Patriots to their nation than they are slaves to a philosophy. Many.....I think will welcome the chance for a true new beginning." "We'll do what we can to help make that so, General," Cain said simply. "We wouldn't think of doing anything less." "Let's go then," Canaris motioned with the air of a friend. "There is much to do. And you will want to contact your ship." "Oh my goodness," Kylie said, "The com-lines!" She quickly detached hers and handed it to Cain. The Juggernaut let out an exhausted sigh and switched it on. "Tolen?" he spoke into it, "Tolen, do you copy?" "Yes, Commander!" over the line the anxious whoop that had gone up on the Bridge was dying down. "We read you fine!" "Situation secure," Cain said simply. "I repeat......situation secure. I'll let Kylie fill in the details." He handed her the com-line and then made his way over to Ila, who was still shaking. "It's over, Ila," he said gently. "You did yourself proud." She slowly nodded and managed to force a smile. "From now on," Ila whispered, "Whenever you let me go to the surface of a planet for any reason.......You let me go armed." "Request granted," he smiled and put his arm around her as they slowly followed the new Alliance leader out. At the Central Air Base, an Army unit was readying itself to move into position for an assault on the Colonial shuttle as soon as it landed. The Colonel in charge of the operation was in contact with the control tower by radio-phone, hearing the progress on how soon it would arrive and his team could spring into action. "In approximately five minutes," was the last report. But then, abruptly, through his phone came a new voice.....with new instructions. "Stand down! Stand down, immediately! You are *not* to launch any assault on that shuttle when it lands! The situation is over. I repeat, *over*!" As soon as he heard that, the Colonel felt a strange sense of......relief. "They did it!" Stone's voice was exuberant. "They not only did it, but Leiter's dead! Canaris has taken over!" Maxwell's mouth was open in slack-jawed shock. Even more than he'd been two years ago when the sudden turn of events courtesy of Apollo and the Galactica had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. This time, he was totally at a loss for words. "Stoney," he finally managed to speak, "You're released from there, now. Get back here and.....help me get started on what comes next." "Yes, sir, Mr. President!" Stone sounded like a happy child at a birthday celebration. "I'll be there!" No sooner had Maxwell hung up when another message came through from the Deputy Chief of Staff. "Sir, I just talked with the hospital," he said. "Art Moore will be okay. He'll just need a few days to recover." "Thanks for telling me that," the President was grateful. "That's really good to know." Slowly, Maxwell turned around and looked out at the city. The city teeming with the activity of people who he knew were tired of war and fighting. Wanting only to know peace and the simple joy of living. From far off, he could hear the sound of the chimes of the Main Cathedral of the Holy See. I said I didn't believe in miracles anymore. Thank God I was wrong. He picked up the phone and dialed his daughter's number. Ready to tell her that it was all over. In Room 1203 of Tower East in the Sky Plaza Hotel it was also over. As a fully dressed Tricia Halper coolly placed the hypodermic needle she'd used twenty minutes ago back into her travel bag and zipped it shut. She would leave the hotel now, a full twelve hours before she was due to check out, she would already be long gone from Nationalist territory. With total indifference, she left the room without looking back at the naked and dead body of the young man she had used and taken advantage of to betray his country......until he had finally outlived his usefulness to her. Chapter Ten A week passed. A week that would in the annals of Terran history be remembered as the dawn of the New Beginning. As the new Alliance Leadership of General Canaris (who had permanently abolished the title of Supreme Commandant) had begun new high-level talks with the Nationalist Leadership of President Maxwell to recommit themselves to the principles of the treaty that had been worked out two years earlier. Talks that would be mediated by Commander Cain and Professor Ila to assure a fully equitable and just outcome for both sides that would allow the peace to be truly enduring. The final result saw the agreement to destroy all remaining nuclear weapons that existed. As well as a permanent and total repudiation of the doctrines of the "Natural Order" by the Alliance for all time. Food cultivated and grown in the Lunar colonies would be sold freely by private firms to all people regardless of their geographic location at reasonable market rates. And Maxwell also announced plans for joint resettlement of the outermost colony of Paradeen, and with it, the rehabilitation of its destroyed capital city. As Canaris had predicted, the majority of Alliance soldiers felt more a sense of relief because at heart, their commitment to the Alliance had been based on appeals to geographic patriotism and not philosophy. Being told that at last, they could pursue careers outside of the military and have the opportunity to work for themselves without needless levels of state interference seemed to signal a new beginning for their lives. Where individual creativity, and not regimented conformity could be the norm. Cathedrals in Alliance territory were reopened, and the millions who had been forced to practice their faith in secret could at last do so openly once again. For the first time in hundreds of years, a Supreme Pontiff visited Alliance territory and performed his blessings upon the faithful. Through it all, the crew of the Pegasus found themselves enjoying some unexpected liberty of their own on Terra. Enjoying the hospitality of the people and the sights and pleasures of its cities and countryside. And most importantly, for the first time, the crew of the Pegasus could experience what it was like to see human beings truly discover the meaning of war's end......and peace. "Ila?" The Academician was resting in her room but immediately pressed the switch near her bed to open the door. Kylie immediately entered. "I....hope I'm not bothering you?" she was dressed in a civilian outfit she'd bought on Terra. Brightly colored and patterned, much like the dress she'd given to Ila just after Ila's initial arrival aboard the Pegasus and which the Academician was wearing now. "Not at all," Ila smiled. "Come on in. I could use a little......girl talk as it were." She eyed her friend's new dress, "Did you get that to compensate for giving this one away to me?" "Not by design," Kylie chuckled. "It's just that when I saw it in a shop on Lemuria, I had to get it. I always liked the basic style. It's nice to see the Terrans thought of it at a time when they're still at least a thousand yahrens behind the Colonies!" "Glad you were able to get some time down there. Lords know you and Sergeant McCalla earned it!" "No shopping excursions for you?" Kylie sat down in the chair at Ila's work station but had it swivelled around so it was facing the bed. "None for me," Ila shook her head, "I've seen my share of Terran cities this past sectan with all the treaty negotiations. And tomorrow......Cain and I have a meeting with their Supreme Pontiff, and we'll finally get some answers about the things we came to Terra to find out about. Namely, their connection to Kobol and the Thirteenth Tribe, and the matter of ancient technologies they might still possess." "You think they'll be forthcoming about all that?" "They will," Ila said. "After all that's happened.....they owe it to us." "Yes, I guess they do," Kylie admitted and then chose her next words carefully, "Are you.....over what happened last sectan?" The blonde Academician let out a light chuckle and looked up at the ceiling, "Am I over it?" she repeated her words, "I guess.....you could say I am. With everything else I've gone through the last three yahrens......that isn't the worse thing I've ever gone through." "I guess not," the Bridge Officer nodded. "I sometimes forget that......you experienced something none of us on the Pegasus ever did, and that was going through the Destruction itself." "Yes. But I've never gone through a full-scale military battle like you did at Molocay and then later with those two baseships when you parted company with the Galactica. So it's not as if we're too far apart. We've both earned our battle decorations along the way." "We certainly have." Ila looked over at the attractive brunette, "What about you, Kylie? Does that experience make you think you.....missed your true calling just because you had a sexist for a Drill Instructor who wouldn't let you join Colonial Security?" "Ha!" she chuckled and slowly shook her head, "To be perfectly honest, Ila, no. Yes, I got dealt a bum hand by that lousy old porcine, but......I really prefer the Bridge. And being responsible for the helm and plotting and scanning.....it's about the most significant job there is on the Bridge if you're not Major Ham." "That's true," Ila said and then decided to gently probe something she'd been suspecting for quite some time ever since she'd met Kylie and gotten to know her better in talks like this. "Is there......another advantage to Bridge duty for you?" A knowing smile formed on the edge of Kylie's mouth. "I know why you asked that question," the Bridge Officer said. "Does it show?" "Not overtly," Ila said. "It's just.....a feeling you give off that I can tell. Maybe because I'm a woman who knows what that's like. And there's also the fact that you had a lot of natural incentive to succeed at something you got thrust into because......Cain's life was at stake." An innocent blush formed on her cheeks as she looked down at the floor. "I plead guilty to hero worship of Cain," she said. "It's why I wanted to be assigned to the Pegasus. And it's why I decided not to spend sectars protesting my D.I.'s decision on blocking me from Colonial Security because if I had.....I would have missed being assigned to the Pegasus before she left for Molocay. But.....if you're asking me if I have feelings of unrequited love for him.......I'm going to have to say no. But only because I'm smart enough to know how foolish that would be. Because one thing these last five yahrens have taught us ever since Molocay is that none of us on the Pegasus have time for things like that. And especially not since we left the Galactica and got reduced to just fifteen women on board in addition to me." "But if the situation changed," Ila gently pressed, "Would you let your feelings change?" Kylie looked at her again, the blush now gone. "How do you define a changed situation?" "Well.....if we do succeed in making it back to the Colonies and winning this.....that will mean things have changed." "I suppose," Kylie admitted. "But that's still a ways off, isn't it?" "Perhaps," Ila conceded, "But it is something to consider......eventually." "It would also be contingent on the idea that if such feelings were to develop, they'd have a chance of being reciprocated." her eyes then narrowed, "You're not suggesting that he......" "No, I'm not," Ila interrupted. "Believe me, Cain seems to be at a point where he doesn't think about things like that any longer. He had a wife he was devoted to, and after she died, there was another woman that he still has strong feelings about but who in all likelihood now belongs to someone aboard the Galactica. I think the fact that he now has me as a sister figure in his life, and someone who's from his generation to be open with in a platonic fashion, he knows he doesn't need to go looking for that other kind of companionship. Not now at least." "That's what I thought," Kylie said. "And.....that's why I know I'm better off keeping my own feelings for him in their proper place.....and distance." "And that's commendable of you," Ila said, "But.....I'd be remiss in not telling you that Cain really thinks of you as indispensable to the Bridge. That's the reason why he keeps turning down those requests that you be allowed to look after Wallis and Kelli's children when they're on duty." "My goodness, he *is* jealous," the Bridge Officer sighed. "I feel bad about that, because I really like those kids. But.....duty is duty. I'm certainly not going to give up the Bridge to become a Med-Tech anymore than I'd give it up to become part of Colonial Security. I have a clearly defined role and a purpose in my life. I have to follow it where the Lords lead me until I know they say otherwise." "So do we all," Ila said, thinking now of herself and her situation that had led her to choose the path that had denied her of the possibility of physical reunion with her husband. "So do we all." "Sit down, Tolen," Cain motioned to the Executive Officer as he looked across his desk. "I....wanted to talk to you about your final report on the decision making process that took place last sectan." "Yes sir, I hope you found the report thorough." "Oh, it was," Cain acknowledged. "And.....I have to admit, I'm impressed by how you chose to take some initiative when you felt it was called for. Although.....it has to be acknowledged that there was a lot of risk." "I know sir," Tolen said. "The risk factor was great. But command decisions always entail their elements of risk." "That's true," Cain nodded. "You.....felt it was necessary to risk the lives of two people on a device that according to Dr. Arnoff, was at least a sectar away from experimenting with human beings." "Sir, whenever the first test with a human took place, the same kind of risk would still have existed," the Executive Officer knew he was being tested in this debriefing and he wasn't going to waver. "Had this option not been available, the only other course of action would have been a military strike on the Alliance capital, which would have been a disaster. Your life, Professor Ila's and Lieutenant Bryce's would have been forfeited, and General Canaris never would have found his opportunity to seize power. In addition, the Alliance would have been permanently emboldened against us, and against the Nationalists." "I think you are correct in every detail, Tolen," Cain said. "My next question is......if the teleportation device had malfunctioned, and Sergeant McCalla died in the attempt.......what would you have done next?" A faint smile formed at the edge of Tolen's mouth. "I never had to find out, sir." Cain slowly returned it. "Congratulations, Tolen. That's the answer a good commander *always* gives." "Everything is set for tomorrow, Mr. President," Arthur Moore said with quiet dignity. "The Holy See will receive them and be at their disposal for as long as they feel necessary." "Thanks, Art," Maxwell felt sad admiration for his Chief of Staff, seeing him back on the job now after his release from the hospital. "It's.....good to have you back." "It's good to be back, Mr. President," he bowed respectfully. "This his been a momentous week in our lives." "Art," the President said awkwardly, "I'm.....truly sorry." "For what, Mr. President?" there was no emotion in his voice. "I'm the one who should apologize to you. That's why I told you yesterday that if you wanted my resignation for betraying your trust----," "You didn't betray my trust, Art," Maxwell said. "I'm glad to hear you say that, Mr. President," the Chief of Staff. "I.....learned a great deal. Particularly the fact that someone I thought I knew, was already dead to me long before they found his body in a hotel room." "Art," Maxwell felt embarrassed to see this, but he knew he had to mention it. "Just for what it's worth......Canaris told me that he's willing to turn over Tricia Halper to us on a murder charge. The order to kill Ronald was entirely from Leiter's direction. Canaris is sorry he couldn't have stopped it, but-----," "Don't, Mr. President," Moore said firmly, "It would only complicate things needlessly at a time when our two sides need a.....clean slate. That means no recriminations about things that both our sides did during what was wartime. Ronald's death was the result of wartime actions that are best forgotten. Especially now that the whole system of government he sold himself out to is no more." And then, for the first time, some emotion entered his voice. "Please, Mr. President. Let it drop. Let it be......forgotten." The President could only nod his head in agreement. "The new reports......General." Canaris took the folder from Kontarsky and looked at it. "92% of the Alliance Army has signed the declaration formally renouncing the teachings of the Natural Order," he handed the folder back to him, "The other 8% is to be separated immediately from the Service with forfeiture of benefits." "That is all?" the Army Chief raised an eyebrow. "Of course," the new Alliance leader said, "What did you expect, Kontarsky? Show trials? Torture techniques until they recanted? Let the riff-raff that still believes in that garbage spout it off to their heart's content as civilians. I just want them out of the Alliance Army. Forever. That's what the New Order of things, represents." "Of course," he nodded and prepared to depart. "Kontarsky?" Canaris called after him and he stopped and turned around. "Do you regret your decision?" The Army Chief slowly shook his head and gave him a weak smile. "No, General. I don't. I'm.....becoming used to the New Order and it's.......refreshingly different." The Alliance Leader faintly smiled. Far away on Paradeen, the news of what had happened on Terra had finally been delivered by the supply ship from Lunar Seven. And that evening, over a sumptuous meal prepared by Vector and Hector, the mood was the most celebratory that anyone could ever recall. "A toast," Michael raised his chalice, "To peace......to future colonization......and to the people of the Battlestar Pegasus......for finishing the work the people of the Battlestar Galactica started." From around the table. From Sarah. Their children. The Morelands and their farmhands, various echoes of "Hear, hear" and "Amen" went up. "Oh what I wouldn't give to know the pleasure of what it means to imbibe," Vector sighed. "But Father," Hector said, "Don't we imbibe when we undergo lubrication?" "Hmm, yes in a manner of speaking," the older robot rose. "Perhaps then, Hector, you will join me in a celebratory......lubrication!" "I will drink to *that*!" he rose and the two departed arm in arm, and leaving all of the humans in the room laughing in good spirits......for the present and the future. Chapter Eleven Cain was struck by the grandeur and spectacle of the Holy See with its majestic spires that suggested an attempt to touch the realm of Heaven itself. He was not by nature a devout man, though he had in more recent times tempered his old benign Skepticism with a greater respect for the traditions as espoused in the Book of the Word and the slow realization that Higher Powers were showing signs of their existence that he couldn't deny. He could only think back to that experience when the Pegasus had been hurled across the reaches of charted space into the unknown regions they had been making their way back from. How for a very brief period, he'd had a vision of being someplace beyond description. And seeing the form of his dear, late wife Bethany reaching out to him to give him some advice and counsel that had been sorely needed at that moment. Advice that had been vindicated in those early days in the unknown reaches of space. But even so, Cain still couldn't forget how awkward it had always been for him to set foot inside a house of worship on Caprica. The majesty of the Pyramid temple structures that defined Colonial religion were imposing in their own right, and they had a way of making Cain feel intimidated because they offered a reminder that if Higher Powers existed, they knew everything about his life down to the minutest detail. And that had always been something that in those days at least could unnerve him. That was why even now, despite his newer attitude about matters of faith, his old attitudes about how intimidating religious structures such as this could be, still remained. Ila by contrast, as a woman who shared her husband's deep sense of faith, felt the sense of being moved by how the human devotion to the belief that something higher than himself existed lay at the heart of why structures such as this, whether on Terra, or in the Colonies, or on Kobol had been built. Mankind, wherever he'd settled, had maintained in one form or another his sense of humility before the Almighty. Will Adama find that on Earth too? The representatives of the Supreme Pontiff, clad in their bright red garments, escorted them through the Main Cathedral with its splendid works of art and iconography. At the back end, there was music being performed on something that superficially resembled a spinet in terms of its keyboard apparatus and pedals......but when attached to a massive set of pipes produced a sound unlike anything else Ila could remember in all her yahrens of teaching music. Finally, they were led to the private apartment of the Supreme Pontiff. In contrast to the red garments of his representatives, his were white. For a brief instant, Ila was struck by how this simple, "informal" garb of the Supreme Pontiff had a superficial resemblance to what she'd seen her son Zac wearing, when he'd appeared in a vision to her during that same experience when Cain was convinced he'd seen his wife Bethany. It was enough to further convince Ila that she would be dealing with a man of the highest integrity. "Welcome," he motioned to them with a humble air. "I am Supreme Pontiff Alexander. It is an honor to be in your presence." The two Colonials both bowed respectfully. "We are honored that you should receive us, us," Ila said. "I am Professor Ila, and this is Commander Cain." "Yes, I have read so much of you this past week. If you are in any way confused over how I should be addressed, I am in your presence, forfeiting my right to Holy titles. You may call me by my chosen name, Alexander." "Your humility is admirable for one who acts for Terrans as the Emissary of the Almighty," Ila said. "It is something.....reminiscent of what we have seen in our own traditions among the greatest of our religious teachers." "And your traditions I am sure, have much in common with ours," Alexander produced a leather bound book that seemed to be over a thousand years old. "Can you read the cover of this?" Ila looked down and immediately recognized Kobollian symbols. She took a breath and hoped that her imperfect recollection of them wouldn't disappear now. "Sacred Texts of the People of Terra." "Yes," the Supreme Pontiff nodded, "Exactly. You do represent the linkage to our past that we have waited so long to meet again one day. This is very momentous." "I am glad of that, Alexander," Ila said, "I only regret that my husband and son failed to recognize the potential significance of this when their ship, the Galactica was at Terra, two of your years ago." "Do not trouble yourself with regret, Ila," Alexander said gently. "Perhaps it was the Almighty's will that the time wasn't right then and that it was more important for you and Commander Cain to be the first instruments of contact. His will is often hard to grasp......but His ability to bring forth the greater good, inevitably reveals itself. What you have done for Terra in this past week.....is the ultimate proof of that." He motioned them to two plush chairs across from him, "Make yourselves comfortable, my friends. And with my knowledge of the Sacred Texts and all things that are unknown to the population of Terra today......I will answer all of your questions." The two of them settled themselves across from him. Ila carefully took a breath. "Alexander," she began, "What does the term 'Black Knight' refer to?" The cheerful, benevolent disposition on the Supreme Pontiff's visage faded. Not becoming hostile, but more one of studious seriousness. "You begin by coming to the very heart of the matter as it pertains to the development of Terran culture," he said. "I had expected you to begin with the initial settlement." "The initial settlement was by inhabitants who came from a planet called Kobol, was it not?" Ila asked. "Just as it was so of our original twelve home worlds." "Yes," Alexander said. "Yes, you speak truth, Ila. The first to land on Terra, as recorded in Chapter 1 of the Sacred Texts, were those who came from the realm of Kobol. And who found themselves cast adrift by their brethren of the 13th group. But who by the grace and mercy of the Almighty, were led to this realm that they named Terra." "The term Black Knight is not associated with this settlement," for the first time Cain spoke. Trying to conceal his sense of inner intimidation. "No," Alexander shook his head, "That deals with a much later event. One that.....was too troubling to explain clearly to later generations of Terrans. That is why one of my predecessors, Supreme Pontiff Innocent, chose to suppress the knowledge of the Black Knight, and to even make the utterance of those words an act of heresy itself. He did so in the hope that the people would forget its true meaning. And so it has been down to this day." "And this happened not long after access to the Sacred Texts themselves were closed to all but the Supreme Pontiffs?" Ila took charge again. "Yes. Again, a decision made not with evil intentions. More from a concern that as we became so far removed from the original events, critical things would be misunderstood and in misunderstanding them......confidence in what the Sacred Texts represent in their basic truths about the presence of the Almighty in our lives would be shattered." "And all subsequent Supreme Pontiffs have concurred with this reasoning and never considered reversing the edict?" Cain asked. "Reversing an edict is not a decision we undertake often, Cain," Alexander said. "As we have been lifted up to this position as the Emissary of the Almighty.....we think in ourselves that to question the judgment of a predecessor in such a serious matter......might in some way be a condemnation of that judgment and with it, a condemnation of one who had been divinely chosen. That is not an easy decision for anyone who comes to hold this office." "I am sure it isn't," Ila said. "In no way would either of us presume to question the judgments of any of your predecessors, Alexander. But.....you do allow for circumstances to change, as they have with our arrival, and our knowledge of your race's origins." "Oh yes. All this, I do understand. And it will perhaps lead to a reassessment in light of.....changed circumstances. This after all has been a significant week for changed circumstances!" "Then.....in your own words, could you explain what happened after the settlement that led to this.....Black Knight, and what it meant and why it was suppressed?" The cheerful smile returned to his face. "I will do so." It was over four hours later when Cain and Ila, with expressions of subdued awe and wonder lining their faces, emerged from the entrance to the Holy See where the Nationalist staff vehicle of President Maxwell awaited them. Ila carried under her right arm a satchel containing several data discs which she clutched tightly to her as though they were holy relics. Which as far as she and Cain were concerned.....they were. They stepped into the wide interior of the vehicle where both Maxwell and Stone were waiting. The two of them immediately saw the expressions on the faces of the two Colonials. "You......found out what you needed to know?" the President tentatively asked. Ila looked over and with a smile that made her seem radiant, said, "Oh yes, Mr. President. We learned.....*everything* we wanted to know." "And......is there anything else related to that, that needs to be done?" Cain slowly leaned forward, "Mr. President......are you at all familiar with a place called.....Mount Moriah?" "Of course we are," Maxwell said. "It's an abandoned military base that up to a hundred years ago was the designated location for where the Nationalist leadership would retreat to in case of a full-scale nuclear war with the Eastern Alliance." "Are you aware that there is a sealed bunker in its lowest level that was first sealed at the time Supreme Pontiff Innocent suppressed the term "Black Knight" from being uttered again?" Maxwell's eyes narrowed, "No." "With your permission, Mr. President, I would like to have a team from the Pegasus excavate the bunker and analyze what's there," Cain said. "We've received a special dispensation from Supreme Pontiff Alexander to take whatever we believe is essential in the fulfillment of our mission objectives." "You've got it." That evening, Cain and Ila were back aboard the Pegasus in the Flight Operations Briefing Room. Prepared to give a presentation that would explain......much. "What Professor Ila and I learned today clears up the mystery of how Terra came to be, and what it's connection to the Thirteenth Tribe is. It also answers the question as to whether or not Kobollian technology lies in wait somewhere for us to utilize in our journey homeward.....and in our efforts to facilitate communications with the Galactica." He motioned his swagger stick, "I turn this over now to Professor Ila." Ila rose and switched on the viewing screen. "We have heard the tale of the Thirteenth Tribe, setting out from Kobol across a vastly greater stretch of the galaxy than did the other twelve tribes in search of a planet that according to data, was more bountiful and prosperous than *any* other planet they had known of. That is why they were willing to travel such a great distance to find it. "But what exactly, was it that allowed the Thirteenth Tribe to know just how prosperous Earth was? What made it possible for them, far away on the home planet to be able to make that judgment about Earth, and that this was the planet they should seek out?" "Our apocryphal texts like the Testament of Arkada, speak of satellite probes that the Kobollians used to make their judgments. Apparently many were launched, but we must only concern ourselves with two of them. The one which mapped our home star system containing the twelve worlds, and the other, which discovered Earth. The specific details of the probe that found the Colonies are lost to the ages, but that is not so with the probe that first charted the existence of Earth." She pressed the button that brought up the next image on the screen. It showed a small cylindrical object with dimensions of no more than twenty square feet. The object was dark in color. "The Kobollian probe that discovered Earth's existence is called the Black Knight. From this.....the Thirteenth Tribe learned about Earth.....and set out to find her after the ecological catastrophes rendered Kobol a dead world." Ila moved back in front of them. "We have long had reason to believe that in the course of the Thirteenth Tribe's journey to Earth, there were divisions and disruptions along the way. Events that resulted in some of them dropping out and settling on other worlds. The earliest known example is the Serenity Colony, where some settlers dropped off and over time devolved into a primitive aboriginal band that only numbered some fifty to a hundred when several thousand yahrens later, a wave of new settlers who came from the Colonies inhabited the place. Those of you who were part of the visit to Serenity Colony, may recall how the shield of the town constable, contains writing on it that according to their Chief Administrator, Sire Bogan, was written by their "first settlers." The writing, which I am grateful you kept a visual record of for me to consult, as I was not among you during the Serenity visit, is clearly Kobollian and could only have come from settlers who were originally part of the Thirteenth Tribe's journey." She changed the image again which now showed a planetary chart. "The second confirmed location of a planet settled by Thirteenth Tribe stragglers, is one we bypassed recently during our journey from the Weather Planet to the Terran system and is known as the planet Ki. Our account of this comes from Agro-techs Wallis and Kelli, who were aboard the Galactica at the time they encountered this planet, and what was left of its civilization. I don't want to spend an inordinate amount of time on the story of Ki, but I would refer you to their excellent write-up about how a planet that managed to reach the equivalent of the Fifth Millennium, destroyed themselves in the kind of holocaust we thankfully averted on Terra, and how they slipped back into a primeval type existence. They also talk of how two inhabitants of that now primitive community, Pili and her mate, Kudur-Mabug, came to be in the Fleet and managed to integrate themselves to a large extent into Colonial society." On to the next image, which showed Terra. "The destroyed condition of Ki and its hostile environment precluded any realistic hope of learning more about the original settlement of the world, as well as any hope of finding samples of Kobollian technology. But from the Sacred Texts of Terra, we now know that the factions that settled both Terra and Ki were originally from the *same* breakaway group that left the Thirteenth Tribe. And apparently the cause of the dispute centered on what was to become of Kobollian technology *after* settlement took place on Earth. The Thirteenth Tribe had sworn themselves to the same sacred oath that the other Twelve Tribes did when they settled the Colonies, that upon settlement, all technology was to be destroyed and the people would start anew from nothing but the natural elements of the planet. The splinter faction though, was violently opposed to this. And that was why they commandeered two support ships from the convoy and left, carrying with them numerous samples of Kobollian technology, which yes, I can confirm for you, included long-range transmission and reception capabilities." A murmur went up from the group, filled with enthusiasm and excitement. "Somewhere along the way," Ila went on, "This single faction was separated. It may have been the result of some space cataclysm or it may even have been the result of another factional dispute. The Sacred Texts are not clear. It only talks of the "second separation" and how this other group was never seen or heard from again. They never knew that this group settled on Ki......and eventually met their destruction in the fiery ordeal that the Terrans have now averted. "Terra's initial settlement was.......turbulent. Because now the faction that had broken away from the Thirteenth Tribe over the issue of Kobollian technology, itself became splintered over the same issue. Some of the new Terrans now believed the Thirteenth Tribe had been right and that their rough journey that had seen them lose contact with those who later founded Ki was a form of Divine punishment for their disobedience to a sacred oath. The other faction believed just as strongly that it would be mass suicide not to utilize the ancient technology to help establish Terran society. "The conflict lasted......an unspecified number of yahrens, and the faction that was opposed to the maintenance of Kobollian technology, prevailed. When the conflict ended, they took the same sacred oath that the Thirteen tribes took, that Kobollian technology was to be destroyed forever. That Terran society would be built from the ground-up through the individual initiative of native Terrans." Ila paused and looked out at the assembled, all of them enraptured by her every word. Cain couldn't help but think though that it wasn't just the subject matter that left the audience captivated. It was also Ila's clear, concise method of teaching that made everything easy to follow. Ila could give a reading of names from an old telecom directory and make it sound compelling. "But Terra did not follow that path when developing their society. In fact.....they broke the sacred oath and made use of Kobollian technology to establish themselves. And here....is where the story of the Black Knight satellite returns." A new image appeared showing a mountain rise. "This is Mount Moriah, located in the southernmost region of present-day Nationalist territory. It was in this general area, that the early Kobollians settled themselves on Terra. And this mountain according to the Sacred Texts, took on significance when an early religious leader of the Terrans named Enoch, proclaimed that he had "walked with God" and was chosen by the Almighty to reveal His will for the people through an Oracle located deep within the mountain." Ila turned to face them again. "For over three-thousand yahrens, Terran society took shape and developed its principles of technology, economics, philosophy, political theory, language and even the practice of adopting a family surname, all because of the wisdom brought forth by the Divine Oracle located within Mount Moriah. As the religious order of Terra developed, the head of the faith, the Supreme Pontiff was tasked to issue proclamations on how Terra was to model itself in accordance with the Revelations of the Divine Oracle. And from these proclamations was Terra inspired to create the society that formed the basis for what still exists today." Already the audience knew where this was going, but even so they didn't interrupt her or interject remarks of their own. They continued to listen with anxious, edge of their seat anticipation. "The so-called Divine Oracle......was in reality the Black Knight satellite. Forgotten completely by the Thirteenth Tribe itself, but remaining active all this time from its orbital position around Earth. Transmitting data back to the Terrans through a relay and receiving station in the depths of Mount Moriah that was built with the last remaining examples of Kobollian technology that had not been destroyed, in total defiance of the original sacred oath. The Divine Oracle was something that by the letter of established doctrines....represented a Divine heresy." A new image showed an ancient looking image of a man in formal religious robes, similar in style to the formal robes that had hung in Supreme Pontiff Alexander's apartment, but more elaborate. "Over five hundred yahrens ago, Supreme Pontiff Innocent realized that the truth of what the Divine Oracle was, constituted technical heresy. And if that was the case, then it meant that Enoch, the man who claimed to have walked with God and provided the Terrans with the first foundations of their religious traditions as related in the Sacred Texts......could conceivably be seen as a heretic or false prophet by some. What made this even more of a danger to the established religious order at this time was that Terran scholars were beginning to ask questions regarding the meaning of the term "Black Knight". Apparently, those who had seen the relay and receiving station in Mount Moriah at one time or another had written their impressions in forgotten journals and that some scholars had begun to discover for themselves. These converging events, in Supreme Pontiff Innocent's mind, were considered dangerous. If but one part of the Sacred Texts could be called into question, and if the Divine Oracle could be exposed as an example of heretical disobedience......Terran society might question the very existence of the Almighty Himself." Now, a series of ancient parchments filled the screen. "So Supreme Pontiff Innocent declared that henceforth, the Sacred Texts were closed to outside scholarship and the public, and from that point on could only be viewed directly and interpreted by the Supreme Pontiff and the religious hierarchy of Terra. In addition, the term "Black Knight" itself was declared heretical and to even utter the words carried with it the potential for condemnation by the Holy Authority. But for the most part, subsequent generations only enforced the proviso against would-be scholars who wanted to re-examine the question. And ultimately, after several centuries, the whole matter had become forgotten by Terran society. As had the relay and receiving station deep within Mount Moriah which had been ordered sealed forever by Supreme Pontiff Innocent." Once again, the image of the Black Knight satellite filled the screen. "Now the next question is this. What kind of data was the Black Knight transmitting to Terra all this time? The answer is......it was giving Terra a firsthand view of what the Thirteenth Tribe was doing on Earth after they settled the planet." The murmur went up again and Ila fell silent until it had died down. "More than anything else, this explains why Terra, unlike the Colonies, and unlike even Ki for that matter, totally lost its knowledge of its Kobollian heritage. Unless you became a Supreme Pontiff or one of his closest advisors in the ecclesiastical order......you never had a chance of learning the true story. From this point on, Terran religion was rooted entirely in the intermediary commentaries about the Sacred Texts given out by the Supreme Pontiffs, which eliminated completely the references to the original settlement, and instead concentrated solely on the moral and spiritual lessons for how Terrans were to live their lives and to understand the presence of the Almighty in their lives. "Terran society, as we have seen it, effectively represents at its core, a duplicate not of a Kobollian influenced world, but a duplicate of Earth up to a point......and then acquiring its more distinct Terran stamp in the last five hundred yahrens. What that confirms to us, is that when the Galactica finds Earth, it will find a society where like Terra, the open influence of Kobol will be virtually non-existent. This is information that was already hinted at in the captured data discs from the Risik spacecraft, where Commander Adama talks of the rescued prisoners from Earth. "Before turning this back to Commander Cain, I'd like to point out that the current Supreme Pontiff, Alexander, recognizes that the Terran usage of the Black Knight, did not represent a true case of Divine Heresy. The motives of Enoch were likely well-intentioned in letting this gift of knowledge be made available to the Terrans, but in a way that safeguarded their sense of devotion to the sacred oath they had taken. Alexander even believes, as did many of his predecessors who had to uphold Innocent's edict, that perhaps Enoch himself was a true messenger from God whose task was to simply "prepare the way" for the Terrans in establishing themselves. "Alexander also intends to lift the prohibition on direct study of the Sacred Texts. The fall of the Eastern Alliance's 'Natural Order' doctrine has made him and other religious leaders cognizant of how the Eastern Alliance nations consist of many who openly broke from traditional Terran teachings and created the concept of the "Natural Order" as a supposedly superior philosophy. If Terra is to prevent a doctrine similar to the "Natural Order" from emerging again, then the religious authority recognizes that they must be open and candid about things and trust the people to recognize that whatever debates parts of the Sacred Texts might give arise to, the core doctrines of what they teach, represent the only true hope for Terra's future. "I think all us, as fellow humans of the Terrans, bound by ties of common ancestry, and a not dissimilar religious tradition as we know it in the Book of the Word, would concur with that. And with that, I now turn things over to Commander Cain." Cain didn't have to lead the audience in applause as Ila took her place in the front row once again. But he made sure to join in and motioned her to rise in acknowledgment one more time before he moved the discussion into the next area. "Thank you, Professor Ila, for your compelling and fascinating account of what the Black Knight and the Mount Moriah station meant to Terra's past. Now.....we look to how it will serve our future. With the permission of the Nationalist Government, and the special dispensation approval of Supreme Pontiff Alexander, a team from the Pegasus will go to Mount Moriah tomorrow to excavate the sealed bunker and analyze how it functioned, and more importantly remove all examples of Kobollian transmission and receiver technology that still exist. It is our hope, that these additional examples, in conjunction with what we retrieved at the Weather Planet, and in conjunction with what we know of the Cylon capability for long-range transmission and receiving......that the date of our ability to at last communicate once again with the Galactica, will be much sooner than we could ever have anticipated. "Upon completion of this mission at Mount Moriah, the Pegasus will leave Terran space for the last time and begin our journey that will eventually lead us back to the Cylon outer capital of Gomorrah. I have pledged to you that Gomorrah will mark the day when the Pegasus at last becomes an active, fighting part of the Resistance movement against the Cylon Empire, and that nothing less than the total capture of Gomorrah will be sufficient. "But before we can undertake that task, we *must* have the means to contact the Galactica in place. And we *must* make that first transmission to them before we go into battle. I am literally prepared to delay our arrival at Gomorrah for however long it is necessary, until we have achieved that breakthrough and made that first contact. "Tomorrow then, may events bring us one step closer to that." And then, a nod of the head and a simple, "Dismissed," and the meeting was over. But not before there was once again, another round of applause for Cain and Ila, and a refusal on the part of anyone to leave until they had made their exit out the side door. From the back of the room, Tolen found himself applauding.....and contemplating just how close things had come to total disaster only a sectan ago. If things had gone wrong, and we'd lost them.......this ship would never have recovered from it. Never. Without them and the way they work together to finally give us hope.......we'd be totally lost. But things hadn't gone wrong. They had worked out completely for both Cain and Ila. And for Terra as a whole. Perhaps that's a true sign of being Divinely favored. Epilogue Cain remained on the Bridge throughout the departure from Terran orbit. Taking the time to have a final exchange with President Maxwell and General Stone, who wished him well. Even General Canaris relayed his best wishes in a final message from the Alliance capital. And when they passed the orbit of Lunar One, the outpost that held both Nationalist and Alliance forces, the battlestar was given a surprise in the form of an aerial salute......performed by both Nationalist and Alliance ship alike. And then, he'd told Tolen and Ham he was going to his quarters. As he left, he'd stopped briefly by Kylie's station to thank the Bridge Officer once again for the outstanding work she'd done on the rescue mission, and that he'd be officially noting both her and Sergeant McCalla for commendation. But he'd also added that he hoped she wouldn't be feeling the urge to undertake similar missions in the future, given her importance on the Bridge. She'd just smiled and said that no, she was quite happy and honored to be right where she was. Which made Cain feel good inside as he finally left the Bridge for the walk to his quarters. Once he was there, he collapsed into his desk chair and after rubbing his temples vigorously, he picked up his recorder to make a journal entry. "And so today....we leave the Planet Terra and the Terra system. We do so with much added knowledge to our records about Terra's history, about the Thirteenth Tribe and the journey to Earth......and more importantly, new examples of Kobollian transmission and receiving technology from the relay station on Mount Moriah which we completed removal operations of yesterday. The Mount Moriah facility also included ancient data tapes that indicate the *totality* of all that they received from the Black Knight satellite over a span of thousands of yahrens has been preserved, and we thus have the potential to know *every* facet of Earth history up to the time when the relay station was deactivated and sealed. It is my hope.....that when contact can finally be made with Adama and the Galactica, that we'll be able to provide this material to him, and give him information that perhaps not even the Earth natives who are among his ranks now are fully aware of when it comes to their planet's history. "Dr. Arnoff has been given explicit orders to devote his full attention to the matter of getting a working transmission hook-up in place utilizing the Mount Moriah components, the weather planet components, and cross-checking their respective blueprints with those in the Lucifer memory banks about the Cylon transmission set-up. With the success of the rescue mission confirming that development of the teleportation system is much further along than we could have anticipated, it gives us the luxury to concentrate exclusively on this one area that is now of the utmost importance. I will not go into battle at Gomorrah until I know that we have succeeded in this communication breakthrough and made the first contact. "Of course.....getting an effective transmission hook-up in place, with all its complexities, and with all its inherent risks that it might entail to our power levels, is ultimately only half the battle. The other half.....is contingent on the Galactica's ability to receive our transmissions. We know that the capability exists in the form of the Cylon transmission set-up that was in Baltar's baseship. But does that set-up still exist? Could it have fallen victim to a renovation of sorts after Baltar's defection and the beginning of this 'Detente' that defines the Fleet relationship now? Or does it lie dormant and abandoned because it no longer seemingly serves a viable purpose? The baseship used it for communications with Gomorrah, and what reason do they have to think that it would ever be needed or useful again? "If only.....there was a way to make them understand what needs to be done. If those receivers they have aboard that baseship were turned on, they would *know* if a message from us is coming. But.....at this point I can only hope.....and pray that some kind of Divinely inspired insight will make them realize what has to be done. "In the past I might have been skeptical of the idea that such an insight was a viable thing to hang one's hopes on. But.....I have seen too much, ever since Ila's arrival among us, to ever again so easily dismiss that thinking as naive. More than ever, I think it is possible that perhaps.....some moment of insight and inspiration will come that will make this needed contact take place. How it will come about, if it hasn't already.....I am prepared to leave in the hands of those who are clearly of greater power than I. "But for now.....even without the final breakthrough on successful communications, there is still much to take pride in regarding this experience at Terra. We have done our part to help ensure that at long last, Terra can claim to be the first human civilization to know the meaning of something that humans all across the universe have searched seemingly in vain for. The simple joy of peace. Genuine peace. In that respect, there is so much to envy the Terrans for their good fortune. The Lords willing.....may the work that still lies before us when we return to the Colonies, bring us closer to the day when we will at last know the same thing the Terrans feel now." He shut off the recorder and then, the Juggernaut idly switched on the holotape so he could once again see that eternally frozen in time image and sound of his daughter. "Happy Birthday, Father. I love you." Soon, Baby, he thought. Real soon. Ila had remained in her quarters at her work terminal during the departure from Terra, but she'd cued in the main Bridge screen to her monitor so she could watch the planet recede from view. The magnitude of what she'd experienced on Terra the past sectan made her feel grateful that this human world had been spared the ultimate terror, and that she could claim some of the credit for that. But now, it was time to return to her work. Before Terra, she'd had to translate the Kobollian instructions on how the transmitter on the weather planet worked. Now she had yet another set of Kobollian instructions courtesy of the Mount Moriah facility and it required translation as well to see if the principles had remained unchanged, or if some new variants had emerged. Once the work was translated, the results would be passed on to Commander Cobre and the team of centurions who could use their faster processing units to correlate the Kobollian computations with those that existed in the Cylon transmission formula and if the respective parts from the weather planet and Mount Moriah could be compatibly adapted. And then, it would be up to Dr. Arnoff to get a working model in place that could not only work but be reliable since the goal was to have the transmission capability remain permanent. She took the stylus she'd been impulsively chewing the end of, out of her mouth and stopped to think of how last night, for the second time, she'd had a dream that seemed more like a vision. The first time, it had been Adama, Apollo and Sheba. Last night it had been seeing Athena and her husband, Boomer. She'd only had a vague memory of seeing Boomer once or twice at an "open house" aboard the Galactica prior to the Destruction, but in the dream, he seemed vivid as if it wasn't her abstract memory forming a picture of him. He could see them, each holding a baby in their arms. This had struck Ila as odd because while she'd known from the Zykonian report that Athena had been pregnant at the time she'd been at Brylon Station, this vision indicated something that hadn't been in the report. That she'd given birth to......twins. That hadn't been all. The dream had changed to then show another scene aboard the Galactica. Now she could see Apollo and Sheba again. He still had that beard she'd noticed in the first dream which did give him that quality of an ancient Kobollian that she found impressive. But Sheba, she noticed......was clearly pregnant. And it looked as if she was now fairly well-advanced into pregnancy. Perhaps a sectar or so away from delivery. She couldn't hear anything distinct, but she did see the door open and the arrival of a little boy of about nine or ten years old with brown hair and a clearly precocious spirit. Trailing behind him was something that at first she thought was a daggit, but.....it wasn't a daggit, it was a robot made to look like a daggit. He came up to Apollo and wrapped his arms around him, and Apollo then happily lifted him into the air before setting him down. And then, the little boy came over to Sheba and there was a hug and kiss too. Ila knew she'd never seen this child before in her life and yet.....right away, thanks to her conversation with Kelli, she knew who he was. Boxey. His name is Boxey. Apollo's adopted son from that short marriage to Serina, which means......that's my grandson. And then, she'd awaken from the dream, convinced it had been more than that. And that had filled her with a newfound determination to throw herself into this translation project for the near-term even if it took up all of her time for days on end. Now, as she worked on the material, remembering to send each finished section to the Electronics Lab computer so Cobre could then process things, her gaze occasionally shifted across to the table next to her bed. Where she'd managed to create a photographic image of Adama by printing out a still frame from the captured Risik data disc. And each time, she found herself smiling with increased optimism. Soon, my love. Soon. ************************************************************** Fleeing from the Cylon tyranny.......the last Battlestar Galactica leads a rag-tag fugitive fleet on a lonely quest. A shining planet called..... Earth.