BY YOUR COMMAND - Static ARCHIVE

Prologue

 

He so much wanted to take off the gloves and touch the pale skin with bare
fingertips. Feel the smoothness and warmth of the face.
To run his fingers over those closed eyelids and feel the velvet softness of
the long eyelashes resting on the cheeks.
How he wanted to bend over and let his tongue sweep over those closed eyes.
Over those tanned cheeks.
To mark his territory. To impurify!

 

The soft, quiet sound of tranquil breathing. The sweet undisturbed tune of
unconsciousness.
The maker felt his heart racing in the darkness and solitude of the room,
watching the other man sleeping.
How he desired to penetrate the infuriating integrity of unawareness.

 

Smoothly, slowly. Running his gloved hand along the right arm of the
sleeper. Along the bare skin, so pale and fragile. How he hated those
gloves.
How he wished he could caress the skin with his lips and then slowly sink
his teeth into the flesh. To taste, to own.
To leave his teethmarks on the arm, watch them turning supple red as the
blood underneath the skin slowly found its way to the surface wounds.
But it was not yet time.

The man moved in his sleep. He made a little sound, barely audible. A sigh.
In the darkness, the maker could so well see those eyelids twitching as the
man was travelling through dreams.

So softly, the maker ran his gloved hand along the cheek of the sleeper,
moving upwards to the eyelids and the forehead, finally letting his hand
find its way inside the mop of tousled dark hair sprawled on the pillow. So
soft.
The maker bent down a little and sniffed the hair. Immediately a shock of
unbearable excitement shot through him. Almost uncontrollable. The blood in
his veins surged forward, throbbed.
Screamed…
The maker had to close his eyes and concentrate in regaining control over
himself.
It was not yet time.

The dark-haired man moved again. He tossed the blanket aside and mumbled
something in his sleep. Then he moved again.
The maker smiled melancholically in the darkness. This was the sign to
leave.

He bent a little forward until his face was almost touching the face of the
sleeper.
Feeling the warmness of the soft, tranquil breathing on his face, being so
close he could so easily have kissed those unaware lips, the maker stared at
the man. Stared so intensely he could almost see into the man's dreams.
"Soon, my special one." The maker felt his penis getting erect. "Soon…"

So softly, so quietly, the maker moved to the door and disappeared from the
room like he had never been there.
Surrounded by silence and solitude, bathing in the mere light of a faraway
moon,
Apollo opened his eyes.

Perhaps it was a dream or a sound. Most likely it was nothing that had
awaken him.

Sleepily Apollo eyed around the moonlit room.
Starbuck had not returned from duty yet and Apollo wasn't expecting him
until the early centars of the morning.
Beautiful, unique Starbuck.
With a smile on his face, Apollo slowly drifted back to sleep…

* * *

Chapter 1

Caiari Moonfall. Day 2.

The Scorpio Sigma lounge was packed. One could hardly make his way to the
bar.

Daniel let his eyes sweep over the lounge, enjoying the sight of so many
influential people gathered together in one place. All of them looking
extravagant, even pompous. All of them strolling around the lounge, chatting
to each other for a passing moment, superficially, meaninglessly.
Tonight, the Scorpio Sigma was the place that had the power to change one's
whole life. Make the dreams happen.
Daniel knew he would one day become famous. He had always known that the
magic would happen. He had been born to make a difference.
His mother had told him that.

So far, Daniel had only made it to doing striptease shows on the Rising
Star, but hell, that was only the beginning. Daniel had no intention to let
his own hopes down. One day someone important would unavoidably notice his
special talents and hard-to-ignore presence.

A man pushed past Daniel, making him almost spill his drink.
Someone with an expensive Garcini suit and extremely well-trimmed, greying
hair.
Daniel's eyes followed the guy.

"Harry Clifford! You son of a daggit!"

Daniel turned.
The man in the Garcini suit turned.

"You never cease to amaze me Cliff!" A man with a balding forehead and a
huge pretentious smile was fighting his way through the crowd.
"Where do you always find these lads?! 'Otherside' will definitely be the
hottest new musical act in ages!!"
"Darren Chiswick." The man in the Garcini suit created a warm smile on his
face and opened his arms to give the approaching IFB marketing manager a
friendly business hug.
"I'm so glad you could make it Darren. Such a stylish tie you are wearing."

Darren Chiswick patted Harry Clifford's shoulder during the friendly hug.

"I wouldn't have missed this for the world Cliff." Darren grinned. "The
catering is such a success, the mushies are delicious, the ambrosa is as old
as it can get… Yeah, definitely a successful little get-together you have
organized here!"
"I'm glad you approve Darren…" Harry Clifford's smile was like syrup. "…But
you will have to excuse me for I was just on my way backstage to make sure
the band is still in one piece and ready for the evening's performance…"
"Sure Cliff!" Darren Chiswick smiled. "But don't forget I'm planning to beat
you in golf next secton you daggit…"

"D. Chiswick!!" A widely grinning Comptel financial assistant Mike Torrance
appeared there beside the two men. "Darren, you devil. Still a gatecrasher…"
"Mikey, Mikey!" Darren Chiswick beamed. "You should know by now that
everyone is just dying to invite me to their parties… I've always been DA
MAN when it comes to being an entertaining guest…"
"Careful with that self esteem Darry!"
"Nice to see you here too Mike." Harry Clifford smiled. "I hope you'll enjoy
yourself… Now, please excuse me, I have to…"

Harry Clifford was already on his way across the crowded hall, walking
smoothly and with self-confidence.
Daniel watched him going.
Mike Torrance's large front teeth made him look like a horse.
"Darren, you devil. What were you talking with H. Clifford? And don't tell
me it was nothing. That man sure has his finger on the golden pulse of
business!"
"You bet Mikey!" Darren Chiswick grinned. "Our Cliff sure is a fracking
goldmine!"
"And a heck of a fellow too!" Mike Torrance put his arm around Darren's
shoulder and started to lead him towards the crowded bars.
"Come on D! Let's get ourselves something to drink, shall we! My throat is
starting to feel like sandpaper…"

Daniel didn't take his eyes off the man in the Garcini suit walking towards
the backstage door.
Harry Clifford. Daniel smiled…
Future.

* * *

Yeah, so, err… in addition to being Daniel's future, a fracking goldmine and
a heck of a fellow, Harris Clifford was an IFB producer and he damn well
looked like one too.
A fairly handsome man in his early fourties. A bit of grey highlighting the
well-trimmed hair, creating an impression of distinguished elegance.
Brown eyes. Thick, but nicely formed eyebrows. Tall, lean figure that was
well maintained by a daily dose of gym visiting.
Such impeccable taste when it came to clothes and appearance.
Harry Clifford was the most eligible bachelor on the Comptel ship.

* * *

Clifford opened the stage door and descended the few steps leading down to
the corridor of the artist dressing rooms.
He pulled open a red door, the first one on the left, and stepped inside a
smoky room.

"Hi ya mate!" A shockingly blond, bleached mop of hair turned and the face
hidden somewhere underneath grinned at Clifford.
"How's it going with the outside world…"

"Pretty well Nicael." Harry Clifford smiled dryly. "Most of the important
people we want to influence are showing up… but I do think that we would a
better impression promoting the band's new album if the band was actually
taking part in the promoting…"

"Don't worry Cliffy." Dimstar, the band's singer and frontman was adding
eye-liner. He glanced at Harry Clifford through the mirror.
"We'll be there in just couple of centons. Why don't you just relax and find
your way to the grog tables."

Harry Clifford eyed the dirty-blonde, messy-haired lad coldly.
He didn't like the way Dimstar acted and he sure as hell didn't like the way
the boy looked. Especially tonight, as the lad was wearing such ghastly
silver-coloured platform shoes, ridiculous flared trousers with silver
buttons, a tight, shiny shirt á la 5th millenium, and to top it all, a pair
of idiotic old-fashioned sunglasses the size of IFB receivers were hanging
on a chain around his neck.
Jesus!
"Fine. We'll be waiting for you. Don't forget to turn up." Harry Clifford
eyed his proteges once more and then walked out of the dressing room, softly
closing the door behind him.
Dimstar stared after him.

"How about getting a new producer." He murmured. "Cliffy is just about as
exciting as an aerian hay bale!"
"Hold on here!" Nicael, the band bass player, ran his fingers through his
bleached hair, trying to make the fringe to stay at the back. It fell right
back on the forehead.
"Harry Clifford's the best producer there is. Just because he's a wry
fracker doesn't give us a reason to get rid of him. Not if we want to
succeed with this album…"
"Uhhh, I dunno…" Dimstar was already concentrating on other matters such as
examining the eye-liner artwork. "Whadda ya think… Should I have chosen the
light blue instead of this sparkling grey…"
"Hell no!" Nicael grimaced. "Pale blue makes a person look like a retarded
owl! Always go with darker colours my friend! By the way, perhaps we should
cancel the gig on the prison barge. I'm not too thrilled about…"
"No way!" The band drummer, Oscar paused fiddling with his drumsticks.
"That's the gig that'll bring us the most publicity! Playing in front of a
bunch of criminals… Hell, we're going to be the legend of the fleet!!"
"Oz, you're forgetting that 'Parbon Skyline' already played on the barge two
sectons ago! Not to mention a couple of other bands before that!" Dimstar
grinned. Such a catchy grin too.
"Yeah, but 'Parbon Skyline' and the others only played in the cantina. They
don't let the worst mass murderers in the cantina…"
Nicael sighed dramatically. "Oh Oscar! Sometimes I wonder if there are any
braincells left under that mat of brown curly hair. The cantina is exactly
the same place where we'll be playin'…"
"Yeah, but that's Harry Clifford's doings!" Dimstar smirked. "Without that
hay bale we could have gotten a better deal! I say we get rid of that
bugger…"
"Hey dimwits! Take a moment to consider the facts here…" A stout girl with
short brown hair threw the Taurus Digest she had been reading back on the
glass table and stretched with a yawn. "If we get rid of Harry Clifford
there will be no prison barge cantina gigs left to argue about. Clifford's
the only producer who has ever managed to get shows organized on the barge…"
"Charley the always sensible." Dimstar smiled. "Okay lads… and ladies… End
of subject. Let's make an entrance and blow the minds of people who matter.
Yo, Jamey! Toss me the earrings will you!"
A lad with dark, short hair and a misleadingly silent manner lifted his
eyes. "You look better without the earrings Dimmy. Don't spoil the
entirety."
"Hey Dim! Are we going to play the six-song set like we discussed? I think
we should start with 'Farside'…"
"We'll start with 'Violet'. Dimstar finished applying the make-up and
admired the results in front of the mirror, smiling satisfied.
He rufled with his hair so it would look even messier that it already did,
then pouted his lips and posed for himself. "We'll do the slower-four-beat
version."
"Oh well, you're the boss… And I guess the slower-four-beat is better than
doing the swingy thingy…"
"Hey guys…" oscar smirked. "Why don't we do a slow bossanova verson with a
swinging bridge! That'd be cool!…"
"Frack off Oz!"
The band drummer bent down just in time to avoid a flying harmonica swirling
across the room.

* * *

Okay folks. So what is this 'Otherside' then.

'Otherside' is the most controversial underground act in the fleet at the
moment.
Their music, that is considered to be psychedelic explorations to
existentialism and to the darker meaning of creating art, has brought them
both enemies and fanatical followers, yes, but most of all fame.

Their wild gigs and contentious quotes in interviews have been the talk of
the Comptel ship for at least a sectar now.
And then of course, there is Harry Clifford.
How could a band possibly go wrong with a producer of that quality.

Harry Clifford is the one who has managed to organize 'Otherside' gigs on
all the best locations on the fleet's ships: The Taura-Arena, the Velvet
Lounge of the Rising Star, the Scorpio Hall, where Nicael got carried away
and trashed his bass, only to realize a centar later that there was no way
he could afford to buy a new one.
Thank god for Harry Clifford and his connection with the Comptel Slidger Ltd
the band didn't have to cancel the whole tour.

The Aerian Assembly Hall gig was magic, the Aquarian Angst & Elegance was so
and so.
The Virgon Spiral was totally shite since Nicael decided to trash his new
bass only to piss off Harry Clifford.
And then…Then there was the Piscean Party Pit where Oscar decided to do his
famous solium-man imitation, but this time without the sock!
The security staff went crazy and the concert was cancelled right after the
first song.
Oscar ended up spending the sleep cycle in a pisceanian jail for indecent
exposure.

Harry Clifford is also the one that has always succeeded in getting the band
to doing interviews in such meaningful shows as 'The Dig Issue with Derek D'
and 'Give me a Break'.

And then of course, Harry Clifford is the one to be thanked for 'Otherside'
finally getting a record deal with the IFB FCC, which is exactly what
tonight's party on the Scorpion was all about. The release of 'Twirls of
Distance', the debut album with an image of orange-green swirl of petals on
the cover.
Dimstar would have wanted to to change the psychedelic petal-swirl into an
image of purple circles symbolizing the eternal search of the mind, but the
Comptel Print Co was out of purple.

The president of the IFB FCC had named 'Otherside' as the next Beatles (Yes,
unfortunately those guys are still famous all over the universe) while the
broadcaster and the executive producer of the IFB late night show 'Give me
your little finger' declaired the boys as being the new Marilyn Manson (Yep!
Those guys are pretty famous too) and destroying the souls of teenagers of
the fleet.

So far, 'Otherside' themselves have expressed no opinion on their dabatable
success.
The band simply claims to be ready to take the future as it comes.
Most preferable sex, dekar and psychedelic pop.

Okay, back to the dressing room.

* * *

"Oi! Pass me the ambrosa bottle Nic!" Oscar extended his hand towards the
bleached mop of hair. "I'm in need of something refleshing before stepping
into the lion's mouth."
"You mean BARRELLS of something refreshing…" Nicael smirked and took a sip
from the bottle before handing it over to Oscar. "This is already the fourth
bottle that your hand is reaching out for! Careful there Oz or you'll end up
snoozing off behind the drum kit…"

"Right guys!" The widely smiling Dimstar who was still scrutinizing himself
in the mirror, stroke another pose, put on his sunglasses and blew a kiss to
himself, then turning to face the others with a beaming grin..
"Okay fellas! It's finally time for the world to witness the birth of a
legend!…"

* * *

"Galactica shuttle requesting permission to land on the Scorpion…"

"I'm getting too old for this." Boomer was sitting on the window seat,
eyeing the approaching lights of the Scorpion landing bay.
"The place is going to be overcrowded with freaks and crazed teenagers from
hell. Even thinking about it makes me start reaching for my walking stick…"

Apollo, who was sitting next to the aisle, turned to give Boomer a grin.

"Calm down buddy. It's only an album release party, not a rock concert.
There'll be no teenagers to pester you, I promise! Just IFB folk, music
press, invited guests, a couple of gatecrashers, a few refreshing games of
pyramid and us, thanks to me being the commander's son and Starbuck taking
shameless advantage of that…"
"Yeah well, it still sounds like something I could easily spend my evening
without. This is not exactly something I had in mind when you guys called
and insisted for a hang-out…"
"Hey now buddy. A party is always a party." Starbuck glanced at Boomer and
grinned. "A game of pyramid is always a game of pyramid. No matter where the
stuff takes place…"
"Hmmm…"
"Believe me Boomer." Starbuck poked his friend with his elbow. "You'll gonna
have to time of life tonight. Just trust me…"
They had left Starbuck's and Apollo's quarters approximately twenty centons
ago, planning on spending a fun night out since today had been Boomer's last
working day on the Rising Star.
Yes. To Starbuck's utter relief, Boomer had finally come to a decision to
quit the stripping and re-join the military.

Starbuck and Apollo did go to see Boomer perform a couple of times, but
every visit only ended up in unpleasant feeling of awkwardness.
Boomer always felt awkward showing his family jewels to Starbuck who in fact
is the only person Boomer really wanted to show those jewels to, and
Starbuck always felt awkward seeing them.
Apollo just felt awkward.

So… as far as Starbuck was concerned, tonight was the celebration of Boomer
finally having come to his senses, and the fact that there just happened to
be an album release party on the Scorpion was only a nice extra trimming to
it all.
As Starbuck said: A party is always a party, no matter where it takes place.

* * *

45 centons ago, when they had still been in Starbuck's and Apollo's quarters
getting ready to leave, Apollo struggling with his dress uniform medallion
in front of the living room mirror and Boomer lying on the couch sipping his
grog from the only clean cup in the room, Starbuck had emerged from the
bedroom, making Boomer almost choke on his beweridge.

"Oh no. Please don't tell me you're going to wear THAT!!" Boomer had gasped
for air.

"What's wrong with it?" Starbuck had grinned and turned to admire his
reflection in the living room mirror. "It looks just fine to me!"

Horrified Boomer had stared at the glittering platform shoes, flared
trousers, and the tight, orange shirt that had left none of Starbuck's chest
muscles to imagination.

Apollo had forgotten he had been holding the dress medallion and it had
dropped to floor.

"Starbuck, you're not going to leave the quarters in that clown-costume!"
"Of course I am." Starbuck grin had turned, if possible, even wider. "It's
an album release party for sagan's sake. Everyone is going to be wearing
this kind of stuff."
"Great!" Boomer had sighed, deeply, agonized. "That's just what I wanted to
hear. Now I'm really looking forward to all this!"
"You guys think I should wear my hair on a ponytail." Starbuck had turned to
study his profile in the mirror, holding his hair at the back. "Or perhaps I
should cut my hair…"
"Starbuck, all people will be too busy getting over the shock of seeing you
in that outfit! I don't think anyone notices your hair…"
"I'm definitely in need of another grog." Shaking his head with disbelief,
Boomer had arisen from the couch and started towards the kitchen.
"Good idea Boomer." Apollo's partly frowning, partly amused voice had
lingered after him. "Bring me one too… In fact, bring me a double!"

* * *

Now, sitting in the shuttle on their way the Scorpion, Boomer was relieved
as frack that in the end Starbuck had finally come to his senses and decided
to change his outfit.

"…Or they wouldn't have let us board this shuttle!" Boomer's eyes were still
on the approaching landing bay lights.
"I shouldn't have listened to you guys." Starbuck frowned. "Look at this
worn-out dress uniform. Could there possibly be anything less imaginative
than this!"
Apollo tried to hide his smile.
"Look at it this way Starbuck. At least now you won't have to worry about
being chased by the fashion police."
"Very funny. Your choice of expression just kills me…"
"Bucke up Bucky..." Boomer murmured. "…Or you'll be chased by the fleet
security police."
"You guys shouldn't be allowed to drink grog…"

The shuttle was now only 25 metrons from the Scorpion landing bay.
The captain was apparently one of the newly graduated ones since the vehicle
started descending with a noticeable vibration and had difficulty keeping
the delta balance.

Starbuck poked Boomer and grinned. "I have a feeling this is going to be my
lucky night."

Boomer sighed. "I vaguely remember hearing that line somewhere before…"
"Hold on a centon Starbuck…" Apollo gave a surprised glance at the blond
warrior. "I thought you wanted to go to this party because of the band…"
"Whatever gave you that idea?" Star grinned. "Oh no, not in the least. The
band is just a nice little trimming to something far more important."
"What?" Apollo raised one eyebrow. "Boomer having re-joined the military?"
"Gambling." Starbuck's twinkling eyes lingered on Apollo and Boomer.
"Tonight, my dear friends, I am going to get rich…"

The shuttle landed with an unpleasant bump. Starbuck was sure his butt was
going to ache for sectons after this.

A stream of un-smiling passengers with metallic passes attached to their
tunic fronts, lined out of the shuttle and made their way towards the bay
elevators.

All of them were wearing official colonial garments, mostly IFB capes and
green tunics.
Starbuck would never admit it to Apollo or Boomer but he was in fact
thanking the sagans for not happening to be wearing the flares and the
silver platforms.

It took them about fifteen centons to reach the sigma level.
The lounge where the party was held was right opposite the elevator
corridor.

Apollo, Boomer and Starbuck had hardly entered the lounge as a waiter was
already there, holding a tray of ambrosa glasses, serving the guests with a
pleasant smile on his face.

"Thank you Jeeves…" Starbuck grinned as he took a glass from the tray. "Now,
this is what I call service…"
"Thank you sir. May I wish you a pleasant evening."
"Yes, you may." Boomer smirked after the waiter who was already on his way
to vanish into the crowd.

"Why don't we take a little stroll around and see who's here." Starbuck
suggested, his eyes already searching for the pyramic tables.
"Perhaps we will even run into the band and we can get their autographs on
our chests… Hey! Watch it buddy!!"
"I'm very sorry." The man who had bumped into Starbuck turned with a genuin
apologetic smile.
"I hope I didn't make you spill your drink…"
"No you didn't mate." Starbuck grinned. "It seems my drink is still alive
and well in the glass…"
Starbuck paused. Where the hell had he seen this man before?? Those green
eyes and the blond, curly hair.
He turned to Apollo. "I could swear I know that guy from someplace…"

Apollo glanced up. "I think that was Astral. You remember. Lomas' friend.
The guy he used to refer to as 'his angel'…"
"Yes, os course!" Starbuck's eyes lingered back to Astral inching his way
through the crowd. "No wonder he calls him angel. That guy sure does look
like one. You think he's had any contact with Lomas…"
"No, I don't think so." Apollo mumbled thoughfully. "Not after what happen
in the hearing…"
"I should've known I'd find you guys here…"
Interrupted, Starbuck and the others turned.
A short-haired, lieutenant-uniformed bloke was fighting his way towards
them, holding a parbon juice glass in his hand above his head.
"Barton! The fleet celebrity!" Starbuck grinned. "How does it feel to be the
hero who shot the man-slaughtering monster from Caydra…"
"Cut it out Starbuck." Barton grinned. "So, what are you guys up to… OUCH!"
"Excuuuse me mates… Sooorrryy…" A striking mop of white hair, white skin and
loose clothing was trying to cram his anorectic figure past Barton and
Starbuck, who immediately recognized Nicael of 'Otherside' from having
browsed through an occational copy of 'Zound' when having spent uneventful
duty centars in the launching bay.
'Zound', of course, was the weekly music magazine poublished by who else,
the IFB.

Starbuck casually watched the white-haired celebrity for a micron and then
turned back to Apollo, Boomer and Barton.
"So… err… How about those pyramid games!?"
Nobody was listening to Starbuck.
"I wonder if there has been any improvement in Lomas' condition." Apollo was
still eyeing the far-away Astral, lost in his thoughts. "It's such a shame
what Baltar did to his son…"
"Incest." Boomer mouthed, not really meaning to say anything aloud. "No
wonder Lomas is tormented. I'm glad he's getting help on the Sagittarian…"
"What? You guys haven't heard!" Barton glanced at Apollo and Boomer quite
surprised "Lomas was released from the Sagittarian two days ago."
"WHAT!" Starbuck almost dropped his glass of ambrosa. "Jesus Christ! Don't
tell me those monkeys someone might refer to as sagittarian doctors have let
that dangerous lunatic go free!"
"Yeah, they have." Barton nodded. "Apparently there wasn't much more that
could've had been done for Lomas. And I think they needed the room for a new
patient…"
"Why, oh why didn't those idiots move Lomas onto the Prison Barge!?!…"
Starbuck raised his disbelieving eyes towards the ceiling.
"Perhaps they didn't think it was necessary." Barton raised one eyebrow at
Starbuck's reaction. "Why ask me anyway for sagan's sake! How would I know!
Go and ask the man himself! He's right here in the Sigma lounge somewhere as
we speak…"
"By the lords of Kobol!" Starbuck frowned and covered his eyes with his
hand. "Please tell me this is all just a bad dream…"

* * *

No Starbuck… I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen but… Yep! Lieutenant Barton is
telling the truth.
Lomas is once again a free man.

After spending two sectars on the Sagittarian, Lomas was once again released
and, instead of being so predictably re-placed on the Piscean, the fleet
accomodation committee chose to move Lomas to the delta sector of the
Scorpion, where he has been for the past two days now.

Not much to tell about the time Lomas spent on the Sagittarian. Boring
stuff.

Two sectars of psy-medical sessions, cranial nerve simulation, brainwave
calibration, experimental alterwave hypnosis, psychobabling with the doctor
with thick eyeglasses… All that useless felgercarb.
Two sectars of vulnerability, aimlessness, emptiness…

Oh please. Now you're all shedding tears I see…
Here, have a fumarello. It's not that bad. You all know Lomas has always
been a survivor.

Anyway.
Nobody really knows what happened with the silent one.

For all the time on the Sagittarian, Lomas has not spoken one word about
Vega. Not one word.
Perhaps there is nothing to tell. Maybe Vega was just another meaningless
milestone in the long line of disappointing people. Who knows…
Who cares.

* * *

Apollo put his hand in Starbuck's shoulder.
"Hey, don't take it so hard buddy." Apollo gave a supporting smile.
"Perhaps, in some way, somehow, Lomas really has changed! Perhaps he has
finally come to find peace inside his mind…"
"Sure, and daggits have wings." Starbuck rolled his eyes. "Oh well. Let's
find the gambling decks! I'm in need of an enriching pyramid game after all
these good news!"
Daniel had had three drinks. That was quite enough for one night. Not many
people had such will-power.
Daniel knew how easily people could be destroyed by fame, and only because
of their weakness.
So easily could one be enticed to the alluring world of being famous. The
world of false beliefs of being everlasting, undestroyable. Untouchable.
So few were ready for that kind of power.
Fame was for the ones with the strenght to handle it. The ones like Daniel.

The lights turned dimmer. Daniel's glanced at the stage.
Yes, he was right. The roadies were finishing up. The band was apparently
about to start their set soon.
Daniel didn't care about music. He wasn't here to pay homage to 'Otherside.
Oh no.
He was here to make an impression on the people who mattered… Like Harry
Clifford.

Daniel had really invested a lot on this evening. It had taken him three
centars to get ready.

First he had taken a long, hot turbobath. Letting the scent of windflowers
absorb into his skin, enjoying the warmth relaxing his muscles and
thoughts.
It was important to feel relaxed. It gave an impression of self-confidence.
Such an important feature in the world of fame. Without self-confidence you
only remained a shadow.
Daniel knew he would never remain a shadow.

Trying out different outfits was the best part in getting ready for making
an appearance.
This time Daniel had ended up on a simple grey shirt, a pair of well-fitted
black trousers and a black jacket that complemented his lean body.
The shoes were important. One should never underestimate the importance of
foot gear.
They were the ones to reflect the real appearance of a person.

Hair was not to be underestimated either. A simple, stylish cut was always
the best choice for any man with the desire to be noticed by the right
people.
Daniel had had brushed his light-brown hair in front of the mirror for ages
until it really shone. Then he had added a touch of hairspray to keep the
completeness unfaulty a little longer.
Just a touch though. Too much hairspray made one look cheap.

Wearing make-up was optional. Yes, it could be a completeness to the desired
image, but it could also so easily distroy all credibility. One should be
very careful with make-up.
Daniel knew he didn't need any. He would make the perfect impression anyway.

Daniel licked his lips to make them shine in the dim lights and took his
pose to suggest he was concentrating on enjoying the performance of the
band.
A good pose was always 'a must'. The right person could cast an accidental
look anywhere, any micron. One should never underestimate the power of first
impressions.

"Excuse me but where are the turbowashrooms?…"

Daniel turned. He had never seen such pale eyes before.
"It's right next to the main entrance." Daniel gave a controlled, practised
smile. You never knew who could be the right person. "You can't miss it."
"Thanks." Lomas' tranquil waterpond eyes lingered on Daniel perhaps a micron
too long before he walked away.
Daniel stared after him.

A man with importance, Daniel was sure of it. Such uncommon manouvres could
not be possessed by just anyone.
That was a man his mother would have been proud of.

Daniel smiled.

* * *

The commander of the Scorpion, sire Akhael, had no intention of spending his
whole evening in the Sigma lounge.
Strolling around IFB folk, exposing his hearing to some felgercarb that
couldn't even be called music. This was just a goddamn waste of time.
Oh, but he had a mission, he had to attend this party.
Besides, he was a commander. He had duties.

Akhael's grey eyes lingered indifferently on faces of the crowd but then he
spotted a beautiful, wavy-haired man walking past.
A beautiful man with an aura. A man that would definitely be needed by the
circle of Orion.
They would have to get him.
Yes. Perhaps soon after the awakening…

The beautiful man halted. Suddenly his face turned pale and such a shocked
look appeared into those waterpond eyes.
Lomas had noticed his angel.

Frack! Frack! Frack! Astral turned his eyes away from Lomas as quickly as he
possibly could but it was already too late. Lomas' presence had captured
him.
All those sectars that Astral thought had made him stronger and indifferent.
Two sectars, less than a micron apart.

Lomas didn't even feel himself move. So suddenly the angel was so close, the
face of beauty so near, yet millions of hectares away.
There they were, two men, standing face to face in a middle of the crowd
that wasn't even there.
Together. Alone.

"I…I didn't know you were…" Astral was completely lost for words. All he
could do was to drown in Lomas' eyes. Why for sagan's sake did that man have
such an affect on him. The guy was a monster, a murderer. Dangerous.

Lomas took Astral's hands, so afraid to continue. So scared that the angel
would fly away.

"Why did you never come to see me on the Sagittarian, Astral?" Lomas' eyes
were immensely sad. "Not a night has gone by that I haven't thought about
you… longed to see you…"

"I didn't… I don't…" Astral had no idea what to say. His eyes were lingering
somewhere between Lomas' chin and his right ear, so hard trying to avoid
those pale ponds of water.
So afraid of the look in them.

"Don't be frightened of me my beautiful." Lomas voice was so gentle it made
Astral shiver.
"What you see in my eyes is what I am. A tormented man. No sagan, no devil."

Astral didn't want to hear this.

"Don't be afraid to look into my eyes Astral." Lomas was now merely
whispering. "There lies no insincerity in them. No fire of hatred. And if
you look into my heart you will see pain, yes, but honesty too.
In my soul, see the ashes of darkness, the torn petals of disappointment but
do not close your eyes from seeing the first rays of the new rising sun of
my hope…" Lomas squeezed Astral's hands a little harder.
"Look into the humaneness and the faultless of being a man. Can you see the
perfection and purity of my love for you."

Astral couldn't answer. There were no words existing in the universe. All
meaning was in silence.
Lomas let go of Astral's hands and touched Astral's lips so softly, so
frightened, then finally finding enough courage to pull the angel so close
to him and give his eternal love in a kiss.

Sire Akhael didn't turn his eyes away…
Dimstar's feet were beginning to ache. Wearing the platforms wasn't exactly
a picnic but if achieving the desired image meant a little extra suffering…
to hell with it. Looking good was always worth pain.
Well… Yeah well, Dimstar still felt like he had been strolling around the
packed Sigma lounge for thousands of yahrens, casting overly pleasant smiles
at the guests and exchanging the occasional polite sentence with IFB
reporters, the last one being the infuriating Gregory Dickinson from Comptel
co.

Dimstar glanced at the preparations taking place on stage. The roadies were
finishing testing the cords. Apparently it was starting to be show-time in a
couple of centons. Time to get to the stage and start the set.

Dimstar eyed around the Sigma lounge trying to spot Nic and the others. He
couldn't see shit from behind the sunglasses…

The maker was leaning against the bar, looking at Dimstar with a little
smile on his face.
How ridiculous the lad looked. Platforms, flares, sunglasses… Oh for sagan's
sake. That outfit made even the triad costumes look like haute couture.

The maker took a sip from his glass. He was still too excited about the
little work of art he had performed in one of the backrooms before the party
in the Sigma lounge had begun.
Shit, he had to calm down or he might give his real persona away. People
were not always quite as stupid as they appeared to be.
The maker smiled.
Yes, definitely not stupid but usually damn blind.

How many of those people saw him every day, performing his usual duties, saw
him taking part in the fleet's so-called normal social life…

They were all so blinded by his surface of calmness. His presence of
stability.
How they all looked at him every day without seeing a thing.

The maker took another sip. He noticed three familiar faces approaching.
Time to become what they all saw…

* * *

"Damn, it's hot in here!" Starbuck panted. "If I had known that there would
be no gambling decks on the Scorpion I would've stayed in the quarters
watching the Inter Fleet Broadcasting instead of cramming myself in this can
of sardines!"
"It's just as crowded on the Rising Star…" Apollo smiled. "…And I haven't
noticed that that would have kept you away from the pyramid decks there!"
"But that's just it!" Starbuck smirked. "There are gambling decks on the
Star. That makes a HUGE difference!"
"You're incurable Starbuck." Apollo raised one eyebrow. "You'll be lurching
to the Star with your walking stick when you're ninety and betting your last
retirement cubits …"
"I'd rather believe that we'll have found our way to the Earth by then…"
Starbuck grinned.
"…Or some other place if my father is to decide… Ooops! I'm so sorry!"
Apollo turned to give one of his most charming apologetic smiles at the
person whom he had bumped into by accident. "It's so crowded here one can
hardly breathe without…"

The face that he saw made Apollo forget how to speak.

"Don't worry about it." The man's voice was so low and soft it was almost
unaudible, and before Apollo had even had time to recover from seeing this
inhumanly beautiful face, the night-time eyes and the black hair that had
framed the most mysterious pale features had disappeared into the tumult of
people.
Apollo could no longer spot the man no matter how hard he tried.
"By heaven's Starbuck! Did you see that?! Did you…"
"What?" Starbuck turned. "See what?"
Apollo kept opening his mouth like a fish on dry land but no noise came out.
"What??" Starbuck's eyes were on Apollo who was still staring into the crowd
of people, completely lost for words.
"What's the matter with you Apollo!?" Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "Someone
stole you wallet or something…"
Apollo succeeded in creating something that he thought was a smile on his
face. To Boomer it looked more like a grimace. "What's the matter with you?"
"Err… Nothing." Apollo mumbled. "I just… I saw something…"
"Well by the looks of it, it must have been a ghost…" Boomer stared at
Apollo.
Starbuck did too.
"It was nothing." Apollo smiled, now a lot less insanely. "I just saw
someone I thought I knew. That's all…"

Bullshit, but how could you tell the your loved one that you had just seen
the face the you hadn't even been cabable of dreaming about yet the same
face that your heart has yearned to see since childhood.
How would you describe the eyes that were so dark they have seemed to be
holding the secrets of your unspoken wishes in them.

Would you know the words to explain to the one in your heart that you had
just met someone you would never, ever forget. Someone, who has always been
with you.
A person whose silhouette would be tattooed into your eyes for as long as
you would continue living.
From that micron on, Apollo knew that the face of midnight would forever
haunt him.
For it always has.

"It was nothing." Apollo smiled. "Nothing at all."
"Sure…" Boomer was still eyeing Apollo incredulously. "Nothing at all,
huh... "
Apollo didn't even hear Boomer mumbles.
He didn't hear the band start playing the sweet melody of 'Violet', nor did
he feel Starbuck taking his hand and kissing it softly.
Apollo didn't see Boomer trying to look away with sadness in his eyes.
He didn't even realize the lights in the Sigma lounge suddenly going out.

"What the frack!…"

Total darkness. Stunned buzz of voices from all around the unseen kept
growing louder and louder. People started pushing and shoving each other,
stepping on each others' toes which caused an avalance of curses.

"Apollo? Is this yours?" Starbuck squeezed the hand that he was holding on
to.
"Who else's could it be?" Apollo half amused, half piqued murmur came from
the darkness beside Starbuck.
"What happened?" Boomer's very surprised voice from beside Apollo. "Did the
Scorpion hit something?"
"The cylons attacked! We're under attack!!" A hysterical male voice from a
bit further away. "We're being attacked!"
"Calm down you idiot!" A heck of a lot more calm voice from somewhere a
little closer.
"Ladies and gentlemen…" A pleasant voice from the loudspeakers. Apparently
one of the party organizers had found his way to the stage and was now
speaking into the microphone. "I think we only have a little power cut
here…"
"If we have a power cut then how in the hell does your microphone work!" A
sarcastic female voice next to Boomer.

The lights came on.

Everyone was staring at each other, pale-faced and not having the faintest
idea what had just happened… Well, except the lights having gone out…
Harry Clifford was indeed on stage, holding a micronphone in his hand,
trying ot come up with a logical explanation to it all.
Dimstar was sitting on the edge of the stage, his eyes lingering over the
crowd. To Starbuck he looked nothing like the pictures in the 'Zound'.
"I can't believe he's wearing those sunglasses…" Apollo mumbled.

Someone screamed.
A penetrating shriek that froze the blood in Boomer's veins.

The thing lying on the floor near the backstage door had no face…

* * *

Chapter 2

"Not one but TWO dead bodies!" prison barge head criminal investigator Peter
Kohn found it very hard to believe. "Are we talking about a DOUBLE killing
here…"

It was two centars after the incident and the PVU still had no plausible
argument nor any kind of evidence leading to how the murders in the sigma
lounge had taken place.

"We have to start with presuming that one person killed both of the
victims." Assistant officer Samuel Dexter spoke. "It would be a little too
co-incidental that two killers just happened to strike at the same party at
the same time…"
"Has the FFC unit reported to have found any fingerprints on the bodies?"
Peter Kohn cut in.
"None whatsoever." Dexter glanced at the older investigator. "Both of the
bodies were as clean as sanitated particle accelerators…"

The two men turned as the office door opened and doctor Wilker stepped in.

"Good evening-cycle sirs." Wilker smiled warmly. "Presumably there is no
need to waste time so I will get to the right to the point..."
Please do." Chief investigator Peter Kohn nodded.

Doctor Wilker took a moment before he began detailing his view on the
autopsy results.

"The methods used in these killings are totally different from each other.
If we take a look at the younger one of the victims, the unknown one…"
Wilker handed a picture to investigator Kohn.
"… We immediately notice that the face of the victim has been removed.
Completely peeled away…"

"Jesus!" Investigator Dexter grimaced over Kohn's shoulder.

"…But in the case of commander Akhael…"
Wilker handed Kohn the other picture.
" … We are looking at a victim that has unquestionably died from poisoning."
"What about those stabbing wounds on the commander's neck, arms and chest?…"
"They have apparently been done after the victim had died." Wilker replied.
"The thing I can't figure out is the meaning of those stabbing wounds. I
mean, they seemed to be in a particular scheme." Wilker looked up. "…But
then of course I could be wrong."
"No, there really seems to be a pattern in that stabbing…" Peter Kohn looked
at doctor Wilker. "But for sagan's sake… Who in the names of the lords would
have had time to kill both men, peel the face off the other and then do a
series of stabbing on the other on. Hell, the lights were gone only about
five centons…"
"This doesn't make any sense." Investigator Dexter nodded.
"There must have been more killers than one…" Peter Kohn glanced at his
assistant. "What about the blackout? Any idea how the blackout was set off?"
"The main switch in the dynamo at the end of the corridor where the stage
dressing rooms was evidently been tampered with. The segma-wire is ragged
and…"
Peter Kohn's eyes lingered on the younger investigator.
"The wire was damaged? How in the hell were the lights managed to be turned
back on if the wire is broken?! Using higher physics…"
"No no no. The segma isn't completely broken, it's still very much
operational. But there are clear marks revealing that someone has pulled the
wire out of its socket and then put it back in again…"

There was a knock on the door.

"Excuse me Peter…" The head of the secretary of prison barge criminal
investigattion sector peeked in. "…but there is someone on the telecom for
you. He didn't tell me his name…"
"Thank you Connie." Kohn mumbled and walked to the telecom on his table.
Kohn picked up the receiver, listened for a couple of centons without saying
a word and then placed the receiver back down again.
He looked at the others in the room.

"I think that is all for now doctor Wilker." Kohn smiled, surprising the
frack out of everyone. "We all appreciate the help you have been giving us
and undoubtedly we'll be in touch with you later… Dex, will you accompany
the doctor to the door…"
Samuel Dexter eyed Peter Kohn. "What was that telecom call about?…"
"Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow." Kohn's false smile lingered on his
assistant. "Why don't you too take the rest of the night off and go back to
your quarters for a good night's sleep. I think we can all use some sleep,
don't you…"
"But…" Dexter stared at the chief investigator, puzzled. "We were supposed
to…"
"There's nothing more we can do tonight, Dex." Kohn continued smiling. "Go
now and enjoy yourself for a change…"
Dexter thought for a micron. He sensed there was something wrong, something
strange going on, but… Hell, it wasn't every night that a criminal
investigator could take some off.

"You're right Peter." Dexter grinned. "Let's get out of here!"
"Err… Why don't I finish up here." Dexter mumbled without looking at Dex.
"You go ahead… There's a shuttle leaving in five centons."
"All right Peter. As you say…" Samuel Dexter grabbed his uniform jacket and
started towards the door. "See you tomorrow Pete…"
"Nighty night." Investigator Kohn was already deep in thinkingland so he
barely noticed Dexter leaving. "Turn off the lights as you go…"
"Sure Pete!"
Soon the PVU-office was bathing in soft darkness.
The voice on the other end of the telecom-line kept lingering in the
silence.

Investigator Kohn didn't like to be threatened.

"You don't need to know anything Peter." The voice had had a strangely
hollow echo, like it hadn't been a human voice at all but a flow of digital
beta waves distorted with a gamma sequencer. The kind that was used to
purify the background in IFB news broadcasts.

"Leave it, Peter. You don't want to know who we are."
We… So there were more people involved in this than only one psychopath…

"Look in the mirror Peter. Do you like what you see? Do you like the colour
of your eyes…"
Alone in the dark, investigator Kohn could so well bring back to mind the
smoothness in the hollow voice in the telecom. The weird pleasantness.
"Do not try to see the truth Peter or your eyes will be gouged out."
The call had ended.
Now there was only silence.
Silence was good. It gave Peter Kohn more room to move around in his
thoughts.

The Scorpio Sigma. The very moment before the lights had gone out.
Investigator Kohn tried to re-live the moment using what the party-attending
people had stated at the PVU interrigations.
He was so hard trying to find something in the painted words that would
slightly open the curtain of the complete picture. The false picture.

Why two victims. Why had the killer, or killers chosen those exact two men.
An unknown civilian man with a piscean insignia. The commander of the
Scorpion, sire Akhael. Two men that seemed to have nothing in common.

Something wasn't right. During the alleged time of murder, the victims had
been too silent.
One would suspect a person to be screaming his lungs out when being harmed,
but no one in that party had heard anything. Not even a sigh of pain.
Nothing.

How in the hell had the killer managed to wipe all the blood off his hands
before the lights had came back on… Perhaps…
Yes. What if the killer hadn't been there any more at the time the first
body was discovered. It wasn't too dark to see one's way out through the
stage doors. Eyes got used to seeing in darkness in mere microns…
And then again, what if there had been two killers… This did not make sense.

What about the strange telecom call…
Why would someone take such a stupid risk by calling the criminal
investigation sector to make a threat. Everyone knows the call could have
been traced… Peter Kohn's eyes widened in the darkness.
The call had been traced! Everything taking place on the prison barge was
digitally stored into the memory of "Atticus", the central computer.

That was the last thing to enter investigator Kohn's mind before the axe
came down.

* * *

"Uh oh!"
"What?" Apollo turned to glance at Starbuck. "What??"
"You got the key Appy?"
"No. You said…"
"I don't have it." Starbuck gave an apologetic smile.
"WHAT?" Apollo stared at Starbuck. The blond man's face was slowly turning
into a smirk.
"Only kidding!" Starbuck grinned and pulled the key out of his pocket.
Apollo gave him a glare.
"What a night" Starbuck sighed as he pushed the key into the lock and
turned. "But fear not my darling. I have already solved the terrifying
murder mystery."
"Oh?"
"Indeed!" The grinning Starbuck glanced at Apollo as he pulled the door
open. "I know who the killer is."
"Is that right, Sherlock." Apollo was trying to hide his little smile as he
followed Starbuck into the quarters.
"Easy." Starbuck smirked. "It was our friend Lomas all over again. The guy
obviously decided to let his juices flow… err, what did he use to call them
again… rivers…"
Apollo took off his dress cape and placed his dress cape on the back of a
chair.
"No, I don't think that's very likely Starbuck. Not even Lomas would be that
crazy to jeopardize his freedom so soon after being released from…"
"…The fleet madship." Starbuck completed Apollo's sentence and headed
towards the turbowashroom. "I think he is. Besides…"
"Why don't we talk about this tomorrow Starbuck. I'm really kinda tired and
as you said, it's been a felgercarbish night…" Apollo pretended to yawn and
covered his mouth with the back on his hand.
His eyes lingered to the dark space outside the window.
The mesmerizing face of the beautiful stranger was staring back at Apollo.
The stranger with the eyes of midnight.

Starbuck was whistling in the turbowash. Apollo didn't hear it. He wanted to
drift in the darkness, fall closer and closer to the dream from his
childhood.

* * *

The corridors on the opal part of the Scorpion were narrower, much narrower
than on the other parts of the ship, and the lighting was different too.
Instead of a row of ugly and all-revealing fluorescent lamps that decorated
most of the corridors of the Scorpion, the lightbulbs on the ceilings of the
opal corridors were dark blue, creating a shimmer that the Scorpios liked to
call dark light.

The metal door at the end of the last corridor had no carvings on it, nor
did it make any sound as it slid open and revealed a dark chamber.
It was forbidden to look around but Damon always did.

They were all veiled in black capes. All faces were hidden.
Sixteen men, no-one speaking. All personalities hidden.

One of the faceless shadows stepped out from the circle of orion. It was his
turn.

Damon's eyes followed the lean figure walking softly to the middle of the
chamber and knealing down beside a naked body.
The chant of the thousand moons became a little louder, a little faster.

The figure raised his hands and slowly brought down the hood that had been
covering his personality.
For a passing centon Damon could see a pair of immense, dark eyes. Almost
black.
Such white skin. Such frightening beauty. Night-black hair, shimmering in
the candle light.
Damon was holding his breath.

Enticed, he watched as the man bowed down and kissed the face of the dead
person before him.
Frozen face, but probably still warm against the lips. Damon could almost
feel the warmth in his imagination.

The dark-eyed man took the silvery dagger of offering from a small podium
next to the body.
The podium was surrounded by eleven blue candles.
The man lifted his hood up, and once again he become just a faceless shadow.
Now Aeon could have been any of the sixteen men in the chamber of Orion.
Damon still did not escape the pale beauty he had just witnessed for a
passing moment.

The doors of the chamber slid open and an old man with grey hair and a blue
commander's cape walked in.
Damon almost choked on his saliva.

Except for Damon, the other fifteen men in the circle of orion keeping their
veiled eyes strictly downcast as the old man walked to the podium next to
which the dark-eyed man was knealing.

Horrified, Damon stared at the man who had just walked in
He was the man whose body was lying on the floor beside the podium.

* * *

"I can't believe this! I just… I can't believe this!!"
Assistant officer Samuel Dexter was pacing around the PVU office.
"Damn you Peter! You never should've asked me to leave… I never should've…"
Dexter lifted his eyes as the door of the office opened and yet another man
in a criminal investigator's uniform stepped in. "And who are you…?"
"Jesus Christ! What is that thing…"
"Sir, may I advice you to keep at least two metrons away from the marked
area until I have finished examining the body…"
"No worries doctor Wilker. I'm not really looking forward to getting
acquinted with that thing anyway." The blond man in his mid thirties, who
had just stepped into the office eyed the remains of Peter Kohn's head on
the floor.
"Thank sagan I didn't have time to eat supper…"
"Assisting chief investigator Terence Stanton I presume…" Samuel Dexter
started approaching the man with his hand extended. "I'm Sam Dexter, Peter
Kohn's assistant. Thanks for coming at such short notice…"
"Yeah well, goes with the job…" Investigator Stanton gave one of most
charming grins and shook Samuel Dexter's hand. "Please, call me Terry."
"Thanks for coming at such short notice… Terry." Samuel Dexter smiled. "As
you must have been informed, you are taking over Peter Kohn's latest murder
case…"
"…The Scorpion double killing." Stanton ended the sentence. "Yes I'm very
aware of the situation. I studied some of the files on my way here. I'm also
taking over the investigation concerning the death of Peter Kohn." Stanton's
eyes studied Sam Dexter. "Have you found the possible murder weapon?"
"Yes." Dexter replied. "No fingerprints on the axe, nor on Pete's body. No
fleet insignias carved onto the axe's handle…"
"How in the hell did someone get past the prison barge guards and the
surveillance system, succeed in killing an investigating officer in his damn
office without ayone noticing and then being able to disappear again without
a trace!! Is this what you monkeys call maximum security…"
The six uniformed men in the PVU office immediately decided not to like
Terry Stanton.
"Have you idiots even tried to betaordinate the surveillance tapes?"
Samuel Dexter hesitated. "Ummm. The one that was used for recording after
eleven has been stolen…"
Terence Stanton kept his disbelieving glare on Dexter for a while, then he
took his time slowly walking around Kohn's body, eyeing it.
"Okay, so what about the telecom call that came into Kohn's office sometime
between ten and eleven? I presume the calls on this ship are traceable…"
"We have nothing on that call." Junior PVU officer Pixton coughed. "Atticus
has been provided with false data."
"Atticus?" Stanton looked up at the young, freckle-faced man.
"That's the prison barge central computer, sir." Pixton stammered. "Someone
has managed to distort the original information and replace it with
unreadable codes…"
"Is that so…" Terence Stanton's face suddenly turned to a dark smile.
"Gentlemen, it looks like we have something here after all…"
Samuel Dexter stared at Stanton. "We do?"
Terence Stanton raised one eyebrow. He didn't bother to answer.
Samuel Dexter watched Stanton walking to the desk and taking a pack of
fumarellos from one of the drawers.
"Errr… There's…errr.. one more thing…" Samuel Dexter swallowed, not wanting
to continue.
"The body of commander Akhael has… errr… "
"What?" Stanton lit the fumarello and looked up. "Has what?"
"Err… Disappeared…"

* * *

Damon closed his eyes and opened them again. Nothing changed. The old man
whose body was lying next to the podium was still very much alive in the
room. Damon almost burst out laughing, he was so sure he had gone crazy.

Commander Akhael knealt down beside his own body and took the dagger from
the dark-eyed man who was holding it on the palm of his hand.
Damon stared dazed as commander Akhael sank the dagger into the chest of the
body.
His own chest for frack's sake!!! Damon couln't believe this! And such
strange words the old man was whispering. They didn't make any sense.
Damon swallowed.
Strange language that was calling the awakers of orion. Words that were
praising the power of the ancient ones.
Uncomprehendible yet clear words that frightened the shit out of Damon.

* * *

"WHAT?!!" Stanton blasted. "What the bloody felgercarb…"
"The body of…" Dexter stuttered.
"Yeah, I heard that you idiot!" Stanton frowned. "When?"
"Umm… I think…"
"Oh for chrissakes!" Stanton threw his arms in the air. "Stop thinking and
tell me when was the
disappearance of the body noticed!"
"When the nightshift med-technicians arrived, I think it was sometime around
eleven…"
"So the disappearance was discovered after Kohn's body was found?"
"Actually… "
"Was Kohn aware of this disappearance?"
"No…" Dexter was now avoiding Stanton's stare. "In fact, the med-technicians
found Pete's body
after…"
"So those two incidents are most probably connected." Stanton sighed. "Or
then again, perhaps not…"
"Sir?"
"Never take anything for granted Sam." Stanton was puffing his fumarello,
not looking at Dexter. "That is something I've come to learn the hard way."
Everyone's wary eyes were on Stanton who was now strolling around the room,
seemingly having forgotten about the fumarello in his hand.
After a couple of centons, Stanton suddenly turned.

"Gentlemen…" Stanton smiled. "Let's call it a night, shall we... "
"What?"
"You heard me Sam."
Without saying anything more, Terence Stanton walked out of the room.

* * *

Commander Akhael raised his eyes and let his gaze sweep over the sixteen men
in the dark chamber.
Damon shuddered violently.
The eyes of commander Akhael were completely white.

Damon wanted to scream. He wanted to get the frack out of there but like in
a nightmare, the whiteness from those eyes started streaming out of the
sockets and cascading all around the room.
Whiteness, that somehow made it impossible to move.
Damon was sure he was having a terrible nightmare but his eyes were not
closed.

Slowly, so slowly, the whiteness formed into a forest full of pale shadows.
The kind that appear only on the most colourless, forlorn days.

Someone was approaching Damon from behind the leafless trees. Someone with a
face of a ghost.
Damon saw the face of the unknown side of himself. He screamed.

The ghost moved closer to Damon and took his hand in the moonlightless
dream.
Moving without sound, he led Damon deeper and deeper into unconscious
awareness.
And Damon saw red.
Red.
Nothing else. Not for a long time.

Then gradually violet. A touch of restlessness, but not yet anxiety.
Slow streams of violet. Diffusing into the red like smoke into air. Slowly,
slowly disappearing. Turning the red darker. Blueish red, like coldness.
Can you hear the secrets from the unknown side, Damon." The ghost spoke.
"Listen…"

Quiet breeze. Vast moments, passing eternities of nocturnal whispers.
Evanescent aeons of unsettled tranquility.
Waves. Ripples. The lakes of what has been are speaking. Telling the history
of what is yet to come.

White snowflakes are falling.
Slowly. Everlastingly.
Momentarily.

Winter-time.
Night-time.
On the planet that brings the dead to life.
Damon's eyes popped open.
Frantically he looked around in the dark chamber of orion.

The eleven candles surrounding the podium of offering had extinguished.
The body of commander Akhael lay on the floor in a pool of blood, covered
with eleven stabbing wounds.

The old man with the eyes of whiteness was gone.

* * *

The prison barge cantina was closed for the night but Terry Stanton had had
the key to let himself in.
For a while he had eyed around the silent, dark hall and then walked to the
nearby table to sit down.

Solitude was a good place to start if one wanted to look for answers.
To look for answers you need to start with the questions.
You need to go through the facts…

Terence Stanton closed his eyes to concentrate.

Two bodies. One found near the stage doors in the sigma lounge right after
the blackout, the other in one of the backrooms about half a centar later
when the party had already been cancelled and the investigation team was
searching the place.

Neither of the victims had made any sound. Either they had both been killed
in the backrooms and the faceless one then dragged into the lounge for a
reason, or…
What if the victims had not been killed during the blackout at all.

Two completely different killing methods.
One victim lacking his face. Obvious cause of death were the stab wounds
scattered around the the chest and and the area very near the carotic
artery.
Stab marks on the other victim too, noticeable in a formation, but the cause
of death was without any doubt organic poison.
Okay. Either the killer was an extraordinarily sly son of a daggit or there
were two killers.

Terence Stanton sighed. He forced himself to concentrate in the flow of his
thoughts.
How he craved for a cup of coffee but there wasn't much of that stuff lying
around on the prison barge at 01 centars at night.

What about the aftermath…

An unknown caller.
An unexpected violent death of the investigating officer and one of the
body's disappearing from the autopsy room. Why?
Data deleted from the main computer…
Now if there were two killers, which one would be the one to feel
threatened…

Interrupted and annoyed, Terence Stanton looked up as he heard the door of
the cantina being opened.

* * *

"The gig was shite!" Dimstar took off his sunglasses and eyed his bandmates
challengingly.
"Not only did the damn lights go out and someone was murdered right under
our damn noses, but Oscar screwed up with the damn bridge to the damn
C-section of 'Violet' and Nicael kept forgetting the damn words to the damn
backing vocals and broke a damn string during 'Farside' so we had to play
the rest of the damn songs without the damn bass.
"Calm down Dim." Nicael grinned.
"Calm down, calm down…" Dimstar panted. "Would you want to calm down if one
of the dimwit roadies had screwed up with connecting the damn cord leading
from your damn guitar to the damn amplifiers and caused them to blow up in
the middle of your favourite damn song after which you have to end the damn
concert half way…"
"'Starway' isn't my favourite song." Nicael smirked. "Besides. We would've
had to end the concert half way anyway since the PVU came to investigate the
murder…"

The Delta lounge of the Scorpion was almost empty. Dimstar and the other
members of 'Otherside' were sitting at a corner table, sipping their grogs,
trying to put off going back to their quarters since none of the band
members were tired.

"But whatever you guys say about the gig…" Nicael was still smirking. "At
least my purple velvet jacket with the glittery collar was pretty far out!"

Jamey's eyes lingered on the jacket that Nicael was wearing. "I don't know…
It's got sanitation ship written all over it…"
"Cut it out you dork."
"You two dorks cut it out!" Charley tossed a napkin at Nicael.
"Well I'm off to get another grog…" Oscar pushed the chair away from the
table and stood up. "…And a currant croissant. Anyone else want one?"
No." Dimstar's eyes casually followed Oscar walking towards the bar, then
noticing a young man with curly dark hair and a face pale as snow stumbling
in to the lounge and falling onto the nearest seat by the entrance.

Damon noticed some guy with idiotic clothes eyeing him.
In normal situations Damon would've been self-conscious and ill-at-ease for
being observed but this time he was much too shaken to care.

Damon buried his face into his hands and tried to forget about all this shit
he had gotten himself into.
Trying to forget the horrible white eyes of the man that should've been dead
for sagan's sake.

their way to the table near the windows.

"It's somehow different than others." Jolly was saying. "I haven't seen a
planet quite like that anywhere else. It's… too colourless."
"I dunno..." Giles mumbled and took a chair. "To me it looked just like any
other unknown place in the middle of nowhere. I'm kinda getting used to
these weird planets…"
Jolly grinned. "Sounds to me like you are going to volunteer for tomorrow's
patrol to that weird white planet…"
Giles rased one eyebrow. "Oh? And since when exactly have I started to
appear like the volunteering type…"
"Since tonight." Jolly smirked. He let his gaze linger casually around the
lounge to perhaps spot a familiar face.
Damon was slouching a bit further away, looking ill. Jolly felt a sting of
concern noticing the lad. He was just about to mention something about it to
Giles when he noticed someone's eyes on him.
"Jesus!" Jolly poked Giles. "Look at the clothes on that guy…"

Dimstar's eyes had paused on the two pilots who were grinning at each other.
A stubby one and a sexy one.
Horrible uniforms! Thank sagan Dimstar had once upon a time kept his head
and never followed his grandfather's last wish to join the military.

The stubby one noticed Dimmy's gaze.
Bored with the world, Dimstar looked away.

* * *

"There are no markings of the planet in the map…" Tigh glanced up at Adama.
"As far as this piece of paper is concerned, the place does not exist!"

Adama was staring at the white planet on the beta side of the Galactica.
The command bridge was quiet and deserted since it was sleep cycle for most
officers. Night-time duty-shift seldom required more than five or six
operatives present and tonight was no exception.

"The map is obviously wrong." Adama mumbled to the stars outside. "Not
everything in space is documented with detail. Perhaps this part of the
Galaxy is more or less unknown to long-distance travellers…"
"Perhaps we should ask Omega to run a scanner check on the planet for
organic inhabitation before sending patrols down there…"
"Omega is off-duty tonight." Adama turned to look at Tigh. "We'll run the
scanner check tomorrow."
A grin spread on Adama's face as he took Tigh's hand.
"Come now, my dear. My bra is killing me…"

* * *

It was 02 centars night-time and the Audra deck of the Scorpion was
deserted.
Aeon didn't pay any attention to the two men standing face to face in the
shadows near the corridor leading to the launching bay.
So lost in his own world of thoughts, Aeon walked past Astral and Lomas,
heading towards the elevators.
Astral couldn't believe how unnaturally beautiful the man was.

Shiny, black hair falling softly on the shoulders, glimmering in the faint
light of the deck.
The night-time darkness creating such frightful contrast against his pure,
white skin.

Those immense brown eyes were not eyes at all. They were mysterious gates
into beauty that could only be known from the other side.
It was so hard to look into those eyes without believing in fairy tales.

"He's mesmerizingly beautiful isn't he…" Astral tried not to stare.
"Yes." Lomas was lost in those green eyes of the man he loved more than
life. "So very beautiful, but nothingness compaired to what you are my
angel."
Astral's heart skipped a beat.

Lomas took Astral's hands and kissed them both, still staring into the green
eyes.

"Thank you for sharing this moment with me. " Lomas said softly, sincerely.
"Thank you for not having turned away from me tonight for you could have
destroyed me…"
"Lomas, please…" Astral swallowed. "You're making me uncomfortable…"
"I'm pleading for you not to fly away from me now, my love." Lomas' voice
was quiet. "I know you are not ready to fully let me into your life, but…"
Lomas closed his eyes.
"Without you I am nothing. Please, I'm begging you give me a chance to show
you that I can be what you want me to be for I truly have changed…"
"Lomas…"
"All I'm asking from you Angel…" Lomas looked into the green eyes again.
"…That you let me spend time with you. That is all I ask…"

Astral smiled, shyly. Embarrassed. So much wanting to run away from this
situation, so frightened of Lomas but still so unable to move.

"Just a cup of coffee tomorrow morning on the Piscean… in the cantina…"
Lomas' eyes had turned desperate. "Please, my love…"
"All right." Astral swallowed."A cup of coffee in the cantina, but…"
Lomas took a hold of Astral's chin, forcing the man to drift away into the
pale pond of water. Making him shiver.
Frightening the felrgercarbs out of him.
Fracking hell, why couldn't he just turn away from this man and go on living
his uneventful, unintimidating life. Astral was furious with himself.
He didn't believe for a micron that Lomas could've changed. People just
don't change like that. Especially people like Lomas…
Lomas lips met Astral's.
Astral closed his eyes. He was lost.

* * *

Solitude arose from the chair as Aeon stepped into the darkness of his
quarters and closed the door behind him.

Without switching on the lights, Aeon walked over to the window and remained
standing there, his back turned to the darkness in the room, dim starlight
creating a shimmer on the inhumanly beautiful face.
Lonely face.

For centons did Aeon just remain standing there, striped by shadows.
Then he turned.

He walked over to the bed, pulled off the covers and blankly looked at the
promise of nightmares that lay there awaiting.
Aeon was afraid of those dark dreams. He hated the chaos he saw hidden in
them.
He feared the truth about existence those dreams were created to reveal.
Death was only a word. Just a word.

* * *

Chapter 3

Astral was ecstatic.
He was horrified.

Walking down the deserted corridor to his pisceanian quarters, Astral kept
grinning to himself like an idiot. He didn't know whether to obey his fear
and run like hell away from Lomas, or to just give into this sweet, sweet,
painful tumult of emotions that was making his heart burst.

They had parted soon after the kiss. Lomas so much yearning to not let
Astral go, Astral fighting the urge to follow Lomas to the end of the world.

"I have to go, Lomas." Astral had whispered with a choked voice when their
lips had parted but had still remained lingering so close, still caught in
the hurting moment of magical splendor.

Forcing out those words had demanded so much more willpower than Astral
could ever have imagined. It would have been so easy to surrender. To give
in to the excruciating longing in the heart.

"Damn you Lomas!" Astral was cursing half out loud while walking down the
hallway, his heart singing with joy. Singing such beautiful melody that it
made Astral want to scream so he wouldn't hear it.
"Damn you!…"

Five lamps were broken in the next corridor.
Obscurity intensified.
Astral was digging into his pockets to find the key.
A pale face appeared from the shadows.

"Ali…"

"Shit!" Astral jumped at least five metrics in the air. "For sagan's sake
Damon! You frightened the pogees out of me!! What the felgercarb are you
doing sneaking in the corridors at this centar…"
Damon walked closer so Astral could see him in the light. The fear in
Damon's brown eyes made him shudder.
"Shit! Damon, what's wrong…"
I've been waiting for you Ali…" Damon's words were hardly audible.
"Waiting for me…?" Astral stared at the younger man, his heart still bumping
because of the scare Damon had given him. "What's the matter honey?…"

Damon tried to come up with meaningful words.
There were none.

"Something happened to me, Ali…" Damon's terrified eyes lingered on the
walls of the dark hallway, not meeting Astral's. "Something that freaks the
shit out of me."

Astral took a hesitant step closer, then reached out to pull his friend into
a comforting embrace. The other man turned away and stepped back.
"Honey?" Astral's eyes were on Damon, now worried as hell.

Damon walked a little futher away and remained standing there in the
shadows, his back turned to Astral. Centons passed until he spoke again.

"You're my friend Ali. My best friend…"
Damon smiled to the darkness.
"Ever since they moved me from the Celestra to the Piscean, from the first
moment we met" Damon paused. He turned.
"…You have been like a brother to me, Ali. That is why I'm reaching out for
you now…"
"What is it honey?" It frightened the felgercarbs out of Astral to see Damon
like this. "You know you can tell me anything…"
Damon smiled but the smile was more like a grimace.
"I'm guilty, Ali. Guilty of participating in Akhael's death."

"What?!" Astral's widened eyes stared at Damon.
The events that had taken place on the Scorpion earlier flashed past his
eyes like a nightmare.
The terrifying faceless body…
Astral swallowed.
"What for heavens sake are you saying, Damon."

* * *

Lomas was perfectly happy right where he was. Lying alone on the narrow bunk
in his tiny scorpion quarters.
Still centars before the morning cycle was to arise. Still an eternity to go
until tomorrow night when he would be able to see the face of the angel
again.

Though Lomas missed Astral so terribly that every micron apart seemed like
torture, at this very moment he somehow had everything his sould would ever
yearn for.

There, in front of his eyes, in the bleak light that surrounded him, in the
remains of his heart…
There was belief.
There was Astral.

Lomas did not want to drift to sleep yet. He didn't want to miss a micron of
this newly-found agonizing rapture in his being.
He fought to keep his eyes open to be able to watch as beauty was cascading
into the room, turning the gloomy place whiter…
Lomas flinched.
The white had Cree's face…

* * *

"It wasn't a murder, Ali. I'm no murderer." Damon's sad eyes did not falter
from Astral's as he spoke. "Neither of us are…"
"Us? What the…" Astral had difficulty remembering how to breathe. "Oh Damon.
What for heaven's sake have you gotten yourself into…"
Damon smiled again. A forlorn smile.
"I better start from the beginning, don't I…"

* * *

"Starbuck." Apollo turned his head a little so he could look at the lump
next ot him that was Starbuck under the covers. "Hey Bucky…"

"Hmmpff…" The lump moved, just a little. Then nothing.

"STARBUCK!"

"Frack Apollo! I'm trying to sleep here!"

Apollo reached out and turned on the bedside lamp. The vague shadows that
had reigned the walls of the starlit room vanished in the sudden golden
light.
An annoyed, shaggy head appeared from under the blanket. "For sagan's sake
Apollo, have you happened to glance at your timepiece…"
"Starbuck, I just had the strangest dream…"
"WHAT!" The shaggy head frowned. "Don't tell me THAT is the reason why you
wake me up in the middle of…"
Apollo turned to look at Starbuck. "When I was a kid, I found something in
my father's library…"
Starbuck gave Apollo a glare that he could hopefully remember for the rest
of his life.
"It's quarter past 04 centars sleep cycle, for frack's sake! This is no time
to discuss literature!!…"
"Shut up Starbuck. It was sort of a legend…"
"Let me guess. The memoirs of the oldest lord of Kobol." Starbuck rolled his
eyes. "Okay. Why don't we get some sleep now and you can tell me his
shoe-size tomorrow."
"Starbuck. I'm serious."
"Yeah, well. So am I…" Starbuck eyed his obviously insane lover.
"The legend Starbuck, it told a story of a planet with a special ability…"
Apollo's eyes were lingering in the room as he was trying to remember what
had been in the book. "It told the same exact story that I just had a dream
about."
"So?" Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "That's merely basic psychology. The
story happened to affect you strongly when you were a kid and now for some,
possibly meaningless reason, your unconsciousness decided to bring it up in
a dream…"
"Starbuck…"
"I know what I'm talking about Appy." Starbuck grinned. "I, too, was once
very strongly affected by a book. It was called 50 000 ways to become
shamelessly rich. Whoever wrote that book was a goddamn liar…"
"Starbuck!" Apollo fought not to laugh. "I mean it! I'm serious! The white
planet that came into the view of the Galactica tonight…"
There was a knock on the door.

Starbuck and Apollo looked at each other, stunned.
No man in his right mind would come to knock on their door at this time of
sleep cycle. Unless…

"It must be something important." Apollo hurriedly climbed out of the bed
and searched for his robe. "We might be approached by a cylon squadron or
worse… "
Apollo glanced at Starbuck sitting wide-eyed and butt naked on the bed.
"Put something on Bucky..." Apollo grinned as he was already hurrying
towards the door.
"…in case it's someone under-aged…"
Grabbing the handle, Apollo pulled open the door.

In the corridor outside stood a young boy with a grin on his face.
A young boy that looked exactly like Zak.

* * *

"Please tell me what's burdening you mind Damon." Astral urged, worried.
"You know you can tell me anything…"

Damon took a deep sigh. He was silent for a moment, recalling in his mind
how it all had started.
Recalling, how Aurora had told him about a secret cult that nobody was
supposed to know about.
A community of believers that were rumoured to have had visions about the
things above all human knowledge…

"And how the hell do you know about this stuff." Damon had eyed Aurora with
one eyebrow raised. "You just said that it's a secret cult…"
Aurora had eyed Damon impatiently. "Oh Deedee. Does it really matter how I
found about about it. Isn't it more important that I know…"
"I thougth we shared everything Aurora." Damon had said. "Especially after
the taking of the Celestra felgercarb…"
"We do! That's why I'm telling you about this cult Deedee." Aurora had
sighed. "Haven't you been complaining the felgercarbs out of me for being so
bored with your life and needing something to return the excitement…"
Damon had eyed Aurora. "Tell me about this cult."

And so Damon had learned about the hidden planet of Orion.
Found out about the breath of awakers, the unknown power to bring one back
from the dead.
Of course Damon hadn't believed shit but it had sounded intriguing enough so
he had asked Aurora to make a contact with her… source.

The next night a man dressed in white had come to pay a visit to Damon's
quarters.
Not really knowing what the funny question were for, Damon had played along
with the game and before he had even realized, Damon had become one of the
sixteen men. One of the chosen ones to lead the fleet to awakening…

Astral's eyes were on Damon. "Awakening?…"

"That's the word they use for bringing someone back from the death." Damon
smiled. "Which, of course, I considered to be total bullshit until…"
Damon sighed.
"Whatever I thought about the cult in the beginning, Ali…" Damon smiled
sarcastically. "I couldn't have been more wrong."
"Wrong?" Astral realized he was holding his breath.
"The white planet of Orion exists, Ali. Tonight, a little before the party
on the Scorpion was to start, the fleet entered a system called Du'yraan. We
were told from the very beginning that this would be the moment to commit
the final offering…"
"Offering…" Astral's eyes were wide.
"Stop repeating every word I end my sentences with, Damn it!" Damon got
irritated, then fought to calm down.
"According to the holy writings, to sacrifice himself in the final offering
was be the duty of the cult leader. It was promised that he would be
returned by the awakers…"
"Do you really believe in that felgercarb?" Astral was now beginning to find
this cult thing a little ridiculous. "You can't wake up from death."
Damon smiled. "Yes. That's what I thought…"
He turned to look at Astral again.
"…But I was wrong. One can come back from the other side. The place without
colours…"

* * *

"Hello Lomas." Cree beamed. "Long time no see…"

Terrified, utterly despaired, Lomas stared at the illusion of the boy that
was standing there before him.
Yes, it was no doubt an illusion for Cree was dead. Forever disappeared
behind moonsilver.
This was only the sickness in Lomas' head. The monster…
Leave me alone." Lomas whispered to the ghost of his mind.

Cree stared at Lomas, hurt. "I would've thought you'd be thrilled to see me
after all this time…"

Lomas closed his eyes to get rid of the nightmare of not having been cured
after all. "Please, sagan. Please free me…"

"Oh Lomas." Cree seemed to be on the verge of tears. "You're hurting me. Why
are you behaving like this?"
The boy started hesitantly closer to Lomas.
"…The way you acted when I died… I would have thought you'd be glad to see
me returning…"
Cree halted.
He let his eyes linger on the floor for a centon as if gathering courage,
then looked up at Lomas, the expression on his face puppy-like.
"You're still the only thing that matters to me Lomas. If I had a choice I
would die for you all over again. And even though I couldn't return as a
whole. Not the way I used to be…
Cree smiled a little apologetically.
"…it doesn't change the way I feel… Nothing ever could."

Lomas wasn't able to speak. He wasn't able to open his eyes.

"You see, when I returned…the entity of me that did return…" Cree's sad,
strangely colourless eyes were on Lomas. "…That was the empty side of me.
I'm alive without a soul. You could never love me the way I am now…"
Suddenly Cree smiled. A warm smile.
"But it doesn't really matter Lomas. It doesn't matter because soon you will
be just like me too…
We'll once again be so alike…"
Cree's face reflected the love in his heart."
"…Together, forever without a soul. Surrounded by the chaos inside…"

* * *

Astral remained silent, waiting for Damon to continue.

"Akhael, our leader knew it was time. He knew his duty was to commit suicide
so he planned to gather us all to one place where we would not be noticed…"
"The party." Astral eyed the boy.
"Yes, the party." Damon smiled. "Where else could one be so unnoticeable
than in a crowd."

Both men were quiet for a centon, eyeing the floor, lost in their thoughts.
Then Damon looked up.

"Commander Akhael, our leader, took poison to be able to pass the event
horizon of life as we know it, but he needed us to complete the offering…
Damon paused. His eyes were unflinchingly on Astral. Wary eyes.
"You must believe me that I didn't know where this would lead, Ali. I only
did it to experience something intriguing…"
"I believe you Damon." Astral replied softly.
"Because…"Damon's face reflected pain now. "If I had known what was to
follow, I would never have voluntarily consented to bring on something like
this…"

"Please tell me what happened, honey." Astral wanted to walk over to Damon
and take his hands but he didn't. Somehow, Damon seemed so distant, so cold…

"To complete the preparation for the awakening, all of us belonging to the
circle of Orion were to leave a mark of offering onto our leader's chest and
that's what we did…"
Damon lifted his eyes. He wanted Astral to see the reflection of truth in
them.
"But we did not kill Akhael. Each one of us just stabbed him after he had
swallowed the poison of ora'an. The stabbing of offering was demanded in the
holy writings and by Akhael himself."
"What about…" Astral's eyes were on Damon.
"The sixteen men in the circle of Orion…" Damon continued, ignoring Astral's
attempts to cut in. "We are faceless to each other. During our gatherings,
our souls are clustered but our identities are always hidden behind masks,
veils. We have never been allowed to look at each other." Damon remembered
very well that he had always disobeyed that command yet he left that
unmentioned.
"As you must realize Ali… we couldn't have shown up to the party wearing our
capes of orion, it would've caused attention, so in order to remain faceless
in the offering, we needed darkness. That is why we organized the lights
going out."
"Err, excuse me my ignorance but… how in the names of sagans did you manage
to perform the stabbing ritual in complete darkness…"
Damon smiled. "First of all, we weren't in the main lounge. The stabbing was
performed in one of the backrooms…
Hold on a centon…"
…"And eyes get used to darkness in microns so we could easily see the
shadows of each other and the body of our leader." Damon finished.
"But…"
"That is all Ali. I swear."
"Damn it Damon. Why was the body found in the lounge, near the stage."Astral
walked closer to the younger man, yearning to hear the answer. "Why for
sagan's sake was his face peeled off! Was that part of some ritual too?…"

"Anyone order a cheese sandwich?" The young boy grinned.
"Zak!" Apollo felt his legs failing him. He had to grab a hold on the door
so he wouldn't collapse to the floor. "My god…"
"You don't need to call me god when we're alone together, bro." Zak's
colourless eyes twinkled. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"
"…You're…But you're…" Apollo stared at the beautiful face of his brother
whom he had missed so desperately.
"Dead?" Zak raised one eyebrow. "Do I look dead to you, Appy?…"

The room turned upside down and all outlines vanished into bright spots
dancing in impenetrable darkness.
Apollo's grab on the door slipped and he fell to the floor, unconscious…

* * *

Damon's eyes lingered on Astral. "That wasn't commander Akhael. I have
absolutely no idea what happened to that poor bloke. And to be honest that
jars my chips, but…"
"Great!" Astral frowned, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. "Are you
suggesting that there might be more crazy cults than yours."
"I don't know, Ali, and to be honest, I don't even give a damn. Please shut
up and let me finish my story. I only told you all this so you could
understand what happened to me..."
"Shit, Damon. Who was the other body?!?"
"Shut up for sagan's sake!" Damon through his hands in the air. "Listen to
me, damn it!"

Astral wanted to say so much more but he remained quiet.

The legend about being able to return from death…" Damon smiled darkly.
"It's no felgercarb. Tonight I saw commander Akhael returning with my own
eyes."
Astral opened his mouth but there was nothing he really could think of to
say.
"But…" Damon continued smiling. "…although it was Akhael, it somehow wasn't.
There was nothing human in that creature I saw."
Astral was completely lost for words. He knew Damon wouldn't lie about
anything but this was a little too much to believe in…
"Tonight, my dear Ali…" Damon sneered darkly, sarcastically. "Tonight, I
have created a monster.
Damon burst out laughing like a lunatic.

* * *

"APOLLO!!" Starbuck saw how Apollo collapsed in the doorway. Like a lupus he
dived to the side of his lover, his heart beating like crazy.
"APOLLO! ANSWER ME DAMN IT!! WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU ALL RIGHT??!!"
"Shut up Starbuck." Apollo narrowed his eyes. It hurt to look around in such
bright light.
"What happened?"
"You tell me!" Starbuck was trembling. "Suddenly you just… fell!"

Apollo pressed his hands on his temples. His head was aching like hell. "I…"
Apollo looked up at Starbuck, furrowing his brow. "What?…"
What do you mean what?" Starbuck was eyeing Apollo concerned as frack. "Who
was that at the door?"
"What?" Apollo stared at Starbuck.
"The knock, the door, remember!" Starbuck furrowed his brow. "You went and
opened the door to someone… Who was it? And stop saying what for sagan's
sake…"
Puzzled, Apollo turned his head to look at the empty corridor outside.
"I have no idea what you're waffling on about buddy!" Apollo turned back to
Starbuck. "Are you sure you weren't the one to hit your head instead of me…"
"That's it! I'm taking you to doctor Wilker!…"
"Calm down Starbuck." Apollo frowned. "My head is just hurting a little but
I'm okay! Stop being so frantic about little things…"
Starbuck couldn't take his concerned eyes off Apollo.
Daniel was disappointed as frack. Some loser with a distorted way of finding
amusement to himself had completely ruined all of Daniel's perfect chances
of becoming famous tonight.

Why for frack's sake hadn't the daggit done his killing elsewhere. Now all
Daniel's perfect preparations had turned out to be useless. The clothes, the
poses, the facial expressions…Damn it! Daniel had been so sure…

He had noticed how a couple of important looking blokes had started eyeing
him a little intrigued during the evening.
Damn it! If the investigating officers hadn't come to cancel the party
half-way, there might had been a bloody good chance that one of those blokes
would have offered Daniel a deal of a lifetime!
Now everything was spoiled!
Fracking hell!

Daniel slipped on his green, worn-out nightgown and walked to the couch
beside which his slippers were.
He didn't see the person slouching behind the kitchenette door, watching
him.

Daniel walked to the light switch and soon the quarters bathed in pale white
light that was coming from the planet nearby.
Daniel's rooms were on the beta side of the ship so he had an excellent view
on the white thing.
Not that he was that interested in new places or space travel, but one thing
Daniel had to admit and that was the fact that the strange light coming from
the planet sure created an elegant atmosphere in the room.
If only he had become famous tonight…

Surrounded by paleness, Daniel walked to the bed.
The maker's eyes followed him.

He had noticed Daniel already at the party. A kinda good-looking,
self-confident bloke with an annoying habit of touching his hair every five
centons.
The maker never knew what it was in those people that set it off in him, but
this boy was definitely a one to have it.
The maker knew from the start he would have to follow the boy and take him.
Later, when the fleet would be sleeping…
The hand of thrill had squeezed his throat…

The maker had been kind of amused as the lights in the sigma lounge had gone
out as if it had been caused by fate to give him an unexceptional chance to
fetch his artwork from one of the backrooms and bring it to the lounge for
all eyes to see and admire.

It had been so easy to see in the darkness.
The maker had softly ran to the stage door and slipped into the backstage
area. The possibility of the lights suddenly coming on and he getting caught
red-handed dragging the dead, faceless boy had given the maker such thrill
it had been almost unbearable.

The blackout had, of course, turned out to last long enough and oh, how the
maker treasured the moment when all those blind eyes had seen the
masterpiece.

That very moment had also increased the maker's throbbing desire to take
Apollo. Finally and with utter capitulation.
The maker's eyes had lingered to Apollo and Starbuck who were staring
horrified at the body in front of the stage. Oh sagan. the maker could
almost feel the scent of that dark-haired warrior, feel the taste of the
flesh, the taste of blood…
He had forced his feverish eyes away from Apollo and searched the lounge,
desperately for a target to replace Apollo, to ease his extreme desire.
The maker had spotted Daniel again. Yes, the man with the annoying habit of
touching his hair was to be one.
Someone had to be or he would burst…
The maker didn't feel even slightly uncomfortable being crammed behind the
kitchenette door, watching Daniel pulling of the covers and climbing into
bed.

Such pleasure it gave him to stare as the young man slowly drifted to sleep
and listen how his breathing became more and more placid.
Oooo, it was too enticing to be there, surrounded by that quiet breathing.
The maker almost felt reluctancy as the time came to crawl out of the hiding
place and approach the sleeping man.

Without making any sound, the maker moved to the side of the bed.
The pale light from the planet made Daniel's light-brown hair almost
completely colourless.
The boy's face was colourless too. It looked sickly grey and the lips were
blue. Funny how things always change with the lights…

Slowly, the maker put on his gloves, his eyes still lingering on the
colourless, unaware face.
He took the surgical knife from his pocket and smiled as its blade reflected
the light of white.
Beautiful.

The maker took a piece of tape. Gently, carefully he placed it over the
sleeping man's mouth.
Daniel jolted awake and his eyes popped open...

* * *

Chapter 4

Starbuck was the first one to open his eyes.
Immediately he turned to look at the seemingly still sleeping man beside
him.

How beautiful and vulnerable Apollo looked. Starbuck loved him so much his
little heart was about to burst.
How it had frightened the felgercarbs out of him to see Apollo collapsing to
the floot like that. Starbuck would rather die than see something horrible
happening to Apollo.

Damn how much Starbuck wanted to be sealed to this beautiful person that
meant more to him than life ever could.

Sure, they had constantly talked about finally getting sealed, always making
plans, giving each other promises…
And it was always Apollo's newly-ordered, unadventurous trainee duties as
3rd insigniated bridge commander (daddy Adama was obviously planning for
little Appy to take over when the time would come) that forced them to
postpone the scheduled dates and break the promises.

Break Starbuck's heart all over and over again.

Apollo gave a little sigh and opened his eyes.
His still sleepy gaze lingered to Starbuck.
"What are you doing up? You never wake up this early!"

Starbuck smiled warmly. "It's not so early any more Appy. It's quarter past
10.00 centars."
"Really?" Apollo raised one eyebrow. "Why didn't you wake me up?…"
Starbuck reached out to caress Apollo's cheek softly. "I liked watching you
sleep…You don't even realize how beautiful you look…"
Apollo smiled a little and then his gaze lingered away from Starbuck to the
vague stripes of shadows slightly moving on the ceiling.
Starbuck was still keeping his eyes on Apollo. "Baby, what's wrong?…"

Apollo didn't speak for a while. Starbuck's finger was tenderly following
the outlines of Apollo's lips. "Is your head still hurting?…"
"No, it's the legend I told you about last night." Apollo spoke absently.
"The book…"
"Oh no…" Starbuck frowned. "Please don't tell me we are going to have that
same conversation all over again…"
Apollo turned his head and looked at Starbuck. "There was a picture in that
book…"
"Uh huh." Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "Many books tend to have pictures…
When I finish my first novel I'll put my own face on the cover…"
Apollo didn't smile, he probably didn't even hear Starbuck's words. "That
man in the old picture… The face…"
Apollo paused. His eyes lingered to the space outside.
"I saw that man yesterday. I saw him on the Scorpion."

* * *

"Good morning Sam." Terence Stanton entered the PVU office where the
assisting investigator Samuel Dexter already was, going through the matured
penalty tickets for shuttle double parking, just to have something to do to
get the last night's events out of his mind.
"Morning Terry." Dexter hardly glanced away from the papers in front of him.
"How are you this morning?"
"Never been better, my friend." Terence Stanton grinned oddly, staring at
the assistant who was sitting behind the desk. "Shouldn't you be having
something more important to do…"
Samuel Dexter looked up. The weird grin on Stanton's face made him feel
extremely uncomfortable. "So, err… Did you come to any conclusion last
night?…"
"The whole mystery is solved, my dear Dexter." Stanton's grin widened. "Now
we can go and enjoy a couple of doughnuts in the cantina for I have cracked
everything."
"What?" Dexter's jaw dropped. He stared at Stanton. "It can't be…"
"Be what, Dex?" Stanton raised one eyebrow. "You don't believe me?"
Dexter couldn't stop thinking that Stanton looked unnaturally pale. "Sure I
believe you but, err… How…?"
Stanton eyed Dexter amused. "Let's just say that I had some help from a
visitor."
"Oh…" Samuel Dexter stared at the other man like he had gone crazy. "So,
err… mind telling me what you have discovered then…"
Stanton grinned. "Why?"
"Err…" Dexter's jaw dropped.
"So. How about those doughnuts buddy?..." Stanton's now malevolent eyes were
still on Samuel. "I heard there are freshly baked tulipian buds in the barge
cantina. I wouldn't mind a little taste of…"
Dexter's mind was working overtime but no rational thoughts came out.
"Terry, umm… What about Peter Kohn… Who… What was the conclusion you were…"
"Stop stuttering Sammy boy." Stanton snorted. "It's infuriating."
"Who killed Peter Kohn, Terry?!?" Dexter realized he had never disliked any
man more that Terence Stanton at this very moment. "How did those murders on
the Scorpion take place…?
"It doesn't matter, Sam. You don't need to know. It makes no difference."
Stanton's smile lingered on the other man for a long, long time. "It doesn't
make any difference…"
"What's wrong with you Terry?" Dexter wasn't even pretending to be not
dumbfounded any more.
"Nothing Sammy." Terry Stanton's mind lingered back to the events having
taken place last night. "Nothing at all…"
* *
Infuriated, Terence Stanton looked up as he heard the door of the cantina
opening. Goddamn it, he hated to be interrupted in the middle of his
thinking process. Whoever this intruder was, he was going to feel it in his
skin to have barged in like that.
Stanton narrowed his eyes to make sense of the shadowy figure that had
walked in, but that didn't do much god. It was too dark. Stanton couldn't
see shit.

"Hello?" Stanton asked, startling himelf with his own voice. He hadn't even
realized how quiet it had been until now.
One gets used to quietude so easily it ceases to be noiselessness until
someone or something makes a sound.

"What do you mean it doesn't matter!" Samuel Dexter was freaking out. "Jesus
Christ Stanton! We are talking about some violent murders here! Are you out
of your sagan forsaken mind!!!"
"Calm down Sammy boy." Stanton was smiling. "That kind of behaviour is bad
for your blood pressure…"

"This has better be damn good!" Terence Stanton kept his displeased eyes on
the approaching dark figure. "If that's you Dexter, I'm gonna put you on
report…"

An old man appeared from the shadows.
"Good evening Investigator Stanton." Commander Akhael smiled pleasantly.
"Did I disturb something important? I apologize…"

Stanton opened his mouth, then clicked it shut again.

"I presume introductions are not a necessity." Akhael grinned as he took a
chair and sat down next to Stanton. "I'm here to help you with your
investigation."

Terence Stanton couldn't stop staring. Goddamn it, he had fallen asleep
after all and was now having what was called an anxiety dream.

"I was the one who made that prank call to investigator Kohn." Akhael
confessed with a smile. "You see, I came back from the other side a bit too
early and then I really couldn't go anywhere since there were still people
in the next room to the morgue. So I made a threatening call to one of the
investigators just to pass time. Yes, that prank call was made only because
of boredom."
This was the worst anxiety dream Stanton had had so far. Perhaps he should
take a vacation and spend a secton on the Rising Star or something…

"Later, when I thought all people had finally left, I sneaked out of the
morgue planning to get away from the barge, you see, I was expected to
attend a little ceremony from which I was already a little late so I creeped
to the corridor and then realized there was still one of the thick-headed
investigators left.
Of course, I couldn't take any risks that I might be spotted prematurely and
be prevented from getting to the ceremony…"
Akhael gave a conspirator's wink to the utterly stunned Stanton.
"You see, I have a few desciples who were very much expecting me to drop by.
So, I went in the PVU office and killed investigator Peter Kohn, you know,
just in case…"

Okay buddy. You're already having this anxiety dream so why not play along.
Stanton cleared his throat.

So, err…"What's the face thing for then?" Stanton asked calmly, hoping to
wake up before the dream would go even crazier. "Did you peel off the face
of one of the victims and how in felgercarb did you do it?… I mean, you died
about the same time didn't you…"
"I know nothing about that." Akhael smirked. "You're the investigator here.
It's your job to find out..."
Stanton stared at the ghostly white eyes of commander Akhael. They didn't
look like eyes. They looked like white holes of nothingness.
"…But in the meantime…" Akhael smirked. "Why don't we make ourselves a
little more comfortable…"
Paralyzed, Stanton watched as those eyeless white holes came closer and
closer…
* *
"Are we going to stand here all day or what." Stanton raised one brow.
"Those doughnuts won't be staying fresh forever you know…"
Samuel Dexter stared at the morbidly white, grinning face of Terence
Stanton.
God he hated that man.
And he was frightened as frack of him too.
For the first time in his life, Dexter wished he wasn't a colonial policeman
so he could shoot the bastard of a daggit.

* * *

"Oh Apollo!" Starbuck frowned. "You just saw someone that looked like the
bloke in the picture. Not THE bloke in the picture! Jeeez, I'm beginning to
worry about you. You might have hit your head harder last night than I
thought. Perhaps we should pay a little visit to the sick bay..."

"Ummmm…" Apollo was lost in thoughts. He wasn't listening to a word.

"Who was that person at the door anyway?!" Starbuck continued, then poking
Apollo with his hand to wake the man up from his obvious daydreams.
"Hey!"
"What?" Apollo realized Starbuck was speaking. He looked up. "What are you
talking about?"
Starbuck stared at Apollo. "What, don't tell me you still don't remember
going to answer the door…"
"What door?"
Starbuck was beginning to get seriously worried. They were definitely going
to have a little chat with doctor Wilker this afternoon.
Apollo didn't even seemed to realize there was something to worry about. He
stretched with a yawn, then remembered something.
"Hey, by the way, weren't you planning to go to the race tracks with Boomer
this morning?" Apollo gave Starbuck a teasing smile. "You better start
getting dressed for success Bucky. Today might be the long, long awaited day
that turns you into a millionaire…"
"What race tracks." Starbuck eyed Apollo puzzled for a moment. Then it came
to him.
"Oh frack!" Starbuck cursed out loud and shot out of the bed. "I forgot!"
He frantically eyed around the bedroom.
"Where's my sagan forsaken uniform! The damn betting stalls will close in a
centar! I should've met Boomer in the shuttle launching bay five centons
ago! Where's my damn communicator…"
"I'm beginning to thinks it's you who we should be worried about Starbuck."
Apollo was grinning as he wathced Starbuck hassling around the room.
"If one of us is suffering from what might be the first symptoms of an early
dementia and memory loss, it is you darling…"
"That's something we're going to have a little talk about later this
afternoon…" Starbuck dropped down his boxers and grabbed the uniform from
the back of a chair. "…this memory loss thing. I mean it when I say I'm
worried about you Apollo…"
"Stop being worried you turd and get ready. I'm sure Boomer is already
eyeing the timepiece…"
"Shit!" Starbuck rushed to the turbowashroom to start shaving.
Apollo kept smiling to himself. How he loved that wonderful man. They would
be together forever and ever…

With a stretch and a yawn, Apollo too pushed the blanket aside and
reluctantly crawled out of the warmness of the bed.
He needed to pay a little visit to the library ship.
Apollo hoped that the book about the legend of Orion would still be there…

* * *

Hmmm. Where should he put it… Let's see…
Some of the best places on the walls were already taken but there were a
couple of brilliant spots left for the most intriguing ones. The maker felt
a shiver of excitement thinking about them.

So. How about that corner next to the mirror…
Naah. Daniel hadn't been good-looking enough to earn a place next to the
mirror. That spot was deserved for Apollo. Yes, definitely.

Most of the faces on the walls were artificial ones, but so brilliantly
manufactured from alphafied tri-decteron rubber that it was almost
impossible to tell the fakes from the real ones.

In time, the maker would replace all the manufactured ones with originals,
but that was a long-term plan. The killing of so many people had to be made
with patience, no matter how unbearable the wait would be.
The maker had no intention of getting caught. He was much too forbearing for
that shit.

So, there they all were. Looking down from the walls, smiling at the maker
without seeing him.

Cassiopeia's eyes were the wrong shade of colour. Adama's face looked just a
little too carefree for the maker's liking. He had seen Adama too many times
to know that was not the commander's most usual facial expression.

Starbuck looked exactly like he always did but Apollo… Sagan the maker could
hardly wait to get the original face. Nothing manufactured could ever come
even close to resembling the magnificemce of the real thing.

The face of the poor lad that had met his destiny on the Scorpion last night
was hanging over the fireplace. Yes, the real face.
Although not being the first of the collection, the face was definitely the
beginning of the new era.
Oh yes, the maker had relished his nice little habit even back on Caprica,
way before the cylons had come and destroyed everything.
It had been way easier down there on Caprica. Way easier!
Now living in space, on ships of the fleet, the amount of people was a heck
of a lot smaller and if someone disappeared in the middle of space it would
not be the most common thing to happen.
The disappearance would undoubtedly be very much, and very immediately,
noticed.

"Alright Danny boy. Where shall we place you…" The maker's eyes lingered on
the walls, then Remained for a centon on the spot beside Boomer.
Yes. Yes. That would be the perfect choice. Two former strippers hanging
next to each other…"
The maker grinned.
"Yeah… maybe those two'll have something to chat about…"

Surrounded by his own laughter the maker started towards the dark
lieuetenant's face.

* * *

No answer. Astral knocked again.
Damn it, the way Damon had behaved last night, Astral was now worried sick
about him.

The lad's nightmarish revelation had sounded like felgercarb, yet there was
something…
And the insane laughter.
Shocked, not knowing what to do, Astral had left the insanely laughing Damon
standing alone in the corridor and made his way back to his quarters, hoping
to forget about everything for even a little moment.

He hadn't of course.

For sagan's sake. First Lomas and now this! How much more could a man take
in one night.
Exhausted, so overwhelmed, Astral had fallen on the bed and closed his eyes.
Not for a micron did he fall asleep during the night.
Would you have?

* * *

Astral knocked once more.
Where the frack could Damon possibly be at this centar. There were no
gatherings of prayer, no readings of the palm… even lunch-time wouldn't be
due for at least two centars.

Altral's concerned eyes lingered around the the corridor and paused on a
poster near the cleaning closet doors.
It portrayed a cat sleeping. A bowl of milk was placed next to her, a toy of
somekind was beside the bowl and a human hand was reaching out to apparently
cuddle the cat.
Underneath the picture there was a text in plain black and green, which
read: 'Let the higher meaning take care of your life. Let the prayer enter
your heart'.
Shheeeesh, this ship was ludicrous. Astral had to get off the Piscean as
soon as possible!

"Damon!?" Astral's mind returned to the boy. He knocked and shouted one last
time through the door. It was useless. There was no answer.
Perhaps Damon wasn't home after all. Astral shrugged.
He turned and started down the corridor.

Behind that metallic door, inside the shadowy, tiny room, there was Damon.
Slowly swaying.
Hanging from the ceiling with a robe around his neck.

* * *

"I'm beginning to regret coming here." Boomer's nose was running for it was
uncomfortably cold in the race tracks areas on the livestock ship.
They had arrived there just in time for morning's last capricorn race.
"It's bloody freezing in this place!"
"Then buckle up you jacket buddy." Starbuck was counting the cubits on his
palm. "Shit. I only have seven. Can you lend me a couple of cubits Boomer."
Starbuck gave his friend a charming, persuasive grin. "I'll pay you back
when I'm rich. I promise…"
"Keep on dreaming Bucky." Boomer pulled his jacket tighter around him. "So,
which is the lucky capricorn you are going to bet on?"
Starbuck's eyes lingered on the list of the participants for the 11.20
centars' departure.
"I don't know…" He glanced at Boomer with a grin. "How does 'My
Grandmother's Lucky Sock' sound to you…"
"Like something that should have been taken to the sausage factory ship a
long time ago."
Starbuck raised one eyebrow.
"Oooh, I sense a vibration of a challenge in the air. How about us making a
bet buddy. Lucky Sock against the capricorn you choose…"
"It's a deal." Boomer grinned and leaned closer to take a look at the list
Starbuck was holding in his hands. "Okay. I'm gonna put two cubits on 'JR
Ewing'. I feel that capricorn might have some potential…"
"You've gotta be kidding me." Starbuck's eyes lingered to the capricorn
stables and his eyes met this old and grey, one-horned horse placed in one
the stalls nearby.
Starbuck's horrified eyes lingered back to Boomer.
"Are you crazy! That nag can hardly eat his oats nowadays, not to mention
run in a race. Why don't you bet on something more safer like 'Beaumont's
vendetta'. That baby won the Caprican championships last yahren…"
"I like the look in JR Ewing's eyes." Boomer smiled. "I think he can be a
winner if he wants to…"
"Oh well. They're your cubits, not mine." Starbuck sighed, but with a
twinkle in his eyes. He took Boomer by the arm, not noticing how this
innocent, friendly touch made a shiver shoot through the other man.
"Come on buddy." Starbuck was beaming. "Let's find the betting stalls. I
have a feeling this is going to be my lucky day…"
"Oh for sagan's sake Starbuck." Boomer rolled his eyes. "If you had received
a cubit every time you've said that forsaken sentence, you would've been a
billionaire ten yahrens ago…"
"Where would I be without your delightful wit, Boomie." Starbuck smiled and
put his arm around his friend's shoulders.
"Probably in a lot of trouble." Boomer frowned.

Neither of the men noticed as they passed a dark figure of a person, leaning
against one of the betting stalls with his hands in his pockets, carefully
watching Starbuck.

* * *

"Just a centon!" A very annoyed Harry Clifford struggled to keep the towel
around his waist as he was heading to the door. "I'm coming damn it…"

Who the hell would it be at this centar to drag him out of the shower. Harry
Clifford knew he had no scheduled meetings planned, nor had he any such
close acquaintances that would come knocking on his door on the few mornings
he had off from the comptel ship.

In fact, Harry Clifford didn't have any such acquaintances that would come
knocking on his door. Period.
All his relationships were half professional and always obeying certain
ethics. Harry Clifford wasn't the kind of guy you would go to the cantina to
grab couple of grogs with.
Not unless you had something you wanted to accomplish, needed Clifford's
connections to be able to do it but not wanting to appear too
straightforward in asking for a favour.
That was when you took your buddy Cliffy for a pint or two and talk about
your newborn nephew if you had one.

Another knock. Jeeez, such impatience. "I'm coming damn it…"
Harry Clifford placed his hand on the handle and opened the door to one of
his worst nightmares.

"Morning mate!" Dimstar was grinning widely. "Taking a shower I see. Hope I
didn't interrupt you too badly…"
"Okay Dimbo, what is it? I presume this is not a social visit…"
"Harry, Harry…" Dimstar smirked. "You should think more highly of yourself.
What makes you think I'm not here because of your charming personality…"
Clifford's face turned darker.
"But, I guess you're right this time Cliffy." Dimstar winked. "I am here for
a proper reason."
"Which is?…" Harry Clifford raised one brow.
"Well, we sorta went drinking last night and…"
"Get to the goddamn point Dimstar!"
"We need a new bass guitar, Cliffy." Dimstar smiled. "Nicael accidentally
sat on his Slidger last night when we got back to our quarters. It kinda
broke…"
"What!?" Harry Clifford's face turned red.
"So, err, we kinda thought that you with all your Comptel connections, you
know…"

The door slammed to Dimstar's face.

On the other side, Harry Clifford slowly let his back lean against the door
and closed his eyes for a couple of centons to regain his calmness.
What a goddamn bunch of idiots. The next time Harry was to end up in a
situation where he would have to take on a new bunch of proteges, he would
damn well make sure there were brain cells included in the bargain too…

There was a knock on the door.

"Go away Dimstar!" Clifford didn't open his eyes. "We'll discuss the bass
situation later, just…"
Jesus!

The knocking continued.

"For sagan's sake…" The enraged Harry Clifford grabbed the the door and
pulled it open, ready to kick Dimstar's ass for being a nuisance.
The person standing in the hallway was not Dimstar.
Repulsed, struck with horror and disbelief, Harry Clifford stared at the
thing in front of him.

"Such a pleasure to finally meet you mister Clifford." Daniel knew he was
giving his most charming vibes. He had practised these things in front of a
mirror a thousand times when he had still been alive. "I'm going to be your
next product mister…"
Daniel paused to wipe some blood away from his hand before reaching out for
a friendly handshake.
"Mister Clifford. I'm going to give you the honour of making me a star…"

Harry Clifford had never seen a living faceless man before.
Not even in his darkest nightmares.

* * *

The first thing Apollo saw when entering the bridge was the always dutiful
Omega placing his uniform jacket on the back of his chair and then sitting
down in front of the main control computers, starting to go ahead with the
daily routine such as data distortion checks.

From the corner of his eye Omega noticed Apollo and turned to look at him
pleasantly.
"Good morning captain. Another exciting day on the bridge…"

Omega grinned. He, as well as every other man on the Galactica who had any
clue of what kind of a person Apollo was really was, knew that the captain
would rather have continued being the captain of the blue squadron and going
on patrols with his warrior friends than doing all this commander training
felgercarb.
Apollo had no intention of becoming the next commander. Hell no! All he
would have to do now was to make his father aware of that and knowing Adama,
even fighting the cylons would be a piece of mushies.

"I was just about to go and get a hot cup coffee from the officers' club…"
Omega smiled. "Can I get you something?…"
Omega the always obliging.
"No, thanks." Apollo smiled warmly. "I'm fine. In fact…. this is only going
to be a short visit. I'm on my way to the library ship and came here just to
pick up the code card."
Apollo glanced at the green data on the computer screen.
"Are those the compiled readings from the planet we have encountered?"
Omega nodded. "I haven't had time to go through them yet but looking at the
data now, there seem to be no hindrances in sending patrols down there…"
"Great."
"Captain…err, commander…"
"Yes?" Apollo turned to find the newly-recruited co-ordinating assistant
Ville standing there with a cute smile on his boyish face.
"Captain. I'm having trouble establishing connection with the launching bay
technical crew."
"Have you tried the gamma frequency?" Omega asked from behind Apollo before
Apollo had a chance to say anything.
"Um, That's sort of the problem… You see, I don't seem to be able to change
the frequency at all. There's something jamming the tuning pretty heavily…"
"Have you run the delta check on the B.I.T. scanner to see if you can find
out what it is? It usually gives pretty acurate answers… I remember when I
was your age and operating as the co-ordinating assistant on the Oidipus…"
"Weren't you supposed to have gone to fetch coffee." Apollo glanced at
Omega, amused.
Omega pretended not to notice.
"I tried to start the delta check." Ville shrugged. "The only thing I got
was the comp-farknell turning green…"
"Captain…" Ensign and trainee-alpha-sigmatizer Anna rushed to Apollo.
"Not now!"
but sir…I can't get accurate dat-vibrations…"
"Omega." Apollo grinned. "I'll leave you in charge of all the problematics…
In fact. I'll leave you in charge of the whole bridge. I know that you of
all people can handle it…"
"Apollo! You can't! I'm not qualified to…"

Apollo was already on his way towards the doors.

* * *

Ortega's hairstyle was a little different. After his death he kinda got used
to not combing his hair at all and so it kept sticking upwards and sideways,
pointing all over the place in fact.
Ortega liked it. The hairstyle made him look like Sid Vicious (yay! Yet
another space-famous earthling).
Now watching Starbuck, Ortega noticed that the man hadn't changed his ways
at all while he had been gone. It amused Ortega to watch how Starbuck's eyes
always started to gleam as his mind lingered to all the cubits that just
mght be there within reach…

Annoying, irritating Starbuck. Always expecting to win.
If even once had Ortega had the chance to kick Starbuck's arse during a game
of triad, but no. That daggit had always been too fast and too damn good a
player.

Ortega had almost wished that it really would have Starbuck to be the one to
have murdered him on the Rising Star instead of the other bloke, so the
daggit would finally have gotten what he deserved. A life-sentence on the
prison barge.

Now leaning against one of the betting stalls, Ortega watched Starbuck and
Boomer walking towards one of the ticket stalls in the beta sector. Ortega
couldn't help noticing that Starbuck had his arm around Boomer. Did those
two perhaps have something going…

How close to Ortega those two were.
All they would have to do was to turn their heads, just a little, and they
would notice him.
Ortega smiled.
Perhaps he should really do it. Walk over to Starbuck and make his presence
known.
Frack, it felt tingling thinking about it… Perhaps he should…
No.
The master, their leader of Orion had instructed… no… had ordered them to
lay low.
They were all strictly told to keep their presence unknown until the final
gathering and Ortega didn't really want to contradict Akhael's request.
Time for playing with Starbuck would come later.
Oh, but it still felt so fracking tingling…
Ortega forced his white eyes away and started towards the swarming crowd by
the race tracks.
Damn it felt good to be back!

* * *

The phi-sector of the library ship was quiet. In addition to Apollo who was
strolling around the bookshelves looking for section d, there were only a
handful of others.
Apparently the sector for equivocal history and inexplicable legends was not
the most popular area of scientific liturate.

d…de…di…dis… Damn it. Where was that book. Apollo was absolutely sure the
book had survived the distruction.
The library ship had been hovering four hectares above Caprica for inventory
reasons when the cylons had attacked and therefore it had remained unharmed.

… dit…dof…doo…There! Finally! 'Doors from the unknown' compiled by P.F.
Williard.
Apollo grabbed the book from the shelf and eyed its cover for a centon. A
déjà vu from childhood washed over him… Lying on the bed under the covers
with a flashlight after Adama and Ila had told little Appy to go to bed…
Turning the pages that were telling the strangest story… Turning over the
leaf to page seventy five… And it was always there... The portrait of the
so-called chosen one, Apollo remebered it so well now. It was the picture of
the most mesmerizing face Apollo had ever seen…

Apollo hardly looked where he was going as he made his way to the table
nearest to the bookshelves.
Feverishly he started flicking through pages until…
Apollo's heart almost stopped as he saw it.

Slowly Apollo let the book descend to the table…

* * *

Cree wasn't there now.

At first Lomas had been afraid to open his eyes in the morning. Afraid to
see that all this hoping, all this…yearning, had been pointless. That he
still wasn't cured.
He would never be.

At night, having finally drifted to sleep trying to escape the dark rivers
of his mind, Lomas had travelled through nigtmares until this moment he had
finally woke up into this empty room.
A room that had now turned into a prison. Lomas had had to get out of the
quarters or he would suffocate in this desperation.
He had to get to a place where he could forget about all this darkness and
pain.
Lomas had to get to Astral.

Not wanting to waste any more time than had already been wasted, Lomas had
grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair and left the quarters without
even checking his appearance in the mirror.
He had run down the corridors to the launching bay. For the first time ever,
Lomas had paid no attention to any person passing him. A cylon could have
walked past him in the hallway and Lomas' wouldn't have noticed.

The fifteen centons' wait for the next shuttle to be ready to board
passengers had been almost physical suffering.
Lomas had held so hard onto the memory of Astral's face. The face of the
angel. Lomas' missed him so much.
He needed Astral so much.

The shuttle had landed and Lomas had rushed from the bay, ran up the stairs,
ran down the corridors, ran like mad, until…
Someone was with Astral. A boy with dark curly hair, a stupid haircut and an
unfitting pisceanian uniform.
They were standing together in the corridor, ignoring the people pushing
past them.
Lomas' heart shuddered…

Damon turned and saw a tall man with wavy hair staring at them. A flash of
hard-to-control fury flashed in Damon's white eyes.

Astral's heart took a leap of seventeen hectares when he saw Lomas so
accidentally in the corridor.
People were still swarming around him, some going to prepair themselves for
a centar of prayer, others strolling towards a cantina, a turbowashroom, a
lounge, a launching bay or just strolling along. Astral didn't see any of
them.

"Lo… Lomas." Astral stuttered, blushing. "What are you doing here on the
Piscean? I was just on my way to… What are you doing here??"

Lomas didn't answer. There wasn't anything he could say.

Two men, one with waterponds and a heart so many times broken, the other
with green diamonds and a shy, hopeful smile were alone in the universe,
caught in a fleeing moment in time that to them would last forever and ever.

Lomas knew now that Cree wasn't there. Nothing dark was.
Only strong, sincere love.

* * *

The first rows of page one were unreadable. Apollo cursed out loud.
Apparently some indifferent imbecil had knocked over a cup of coffee or
something while reading the book. Hopefully that person ended up having been
shoved out of the airlock!

Actually…Apollo realized something.
Now holding this book in his hands, there was no need for him to read it.
All those vivid images created by childhood imagination were already there,
alive and intense. Surrounding Apollo in this stuffy library section,
reminding him of the dark legend of Orion…
~~@~~
The planet Kobol was the beginning for the human existence. The planet where
the first lords were told to have been created.
No.
Another kind of existence was first.
An existence that later came to be known as death.
The planet Kobol was only an end of a journey. An escapade from the slavery
of everlasting.

In the days of chaos, the rebels were plenty and their number kept
increasing, but so far they had all remained nameless. The awakers could not
tell them from the consenting ones.

Orion was the largest and richest trading post in the the Daa'r galaxy.
Most of the black silver that was mined in the volts of the secret mines of
midland, ended up in the hands of Kahikian dealers .
Human slaves were forced to serve the lord of Sikh, the leader of the
Kahikians.
Lord Sikh was the one that had named himself sagan. The highest one.

This all took place so long ago it's uncomprehendible to the human brain.
Not millions of milleniums ago, not billions of undescribable time elements
has passed since then.
It all happened much earlier than that.
The domain of the five white planets of Du'yraan, set in the galaxy of
Daa'r, have been eternally, for eternity is only a sequence in what has
always existed.

In the domain of Du'yraan, humans had always been the slaves.
Always, until one day when X-552 chose not to be brought back from the other
side.

"Sounds like bad science fiction, doesn't it…" Aeon's smile was melancholy
as he took a chair and sat down at the table opposite Apollo.
Apollo could only stare.

"I knew you would eventually come to think of this book." Aeon spoke so
softly it turned Apollo's flesh into goosebumps.
"But I must admit it took you a little longer than I had expected…"

Apollo couldn't turn his eyes away. He just couldn't. Nothing he could
possibly think of could ever do justice to this beautiful being.
This… beautiful being from the book…

"I followed you here captain, because I have a little story to tell." Aeon
smiled sadly. "It is the same little story as you are now holding in your
hands but I can tell it to you so much better for I have been born with the
knowledge of it… What is in that book is my destiny…"

"Uhhhmm…" Apollo was by now starting to feel like an idiot for staring but
he still couldn't look away. Besides, this stunning man sitting opposite
from Apollo was making no sense. What was in the book was only a legend, a
fairy tale.
Or was it…
Aeon's gaze was lingering on Apollo too, making him a little uncomfortable.

"There is so much about the legend of Orion you do not need to know
captain." Aeon continued. "And there are so many things I am not going to
tell you…"

"Uhmmh…" If he could have, Apollo would've stood up and gone to bang his
head against the library ship wall for not being able to act normally in the
presence of this man. What the hell was wrong with him!!

"But I will tell you the final part of the story. The part in the book. The
part where the rebels escape from Orion and how it takes them a couple of
yahrens to travel through star systems with merciless mercenaries on their
tales. Hich-hiking into the occasional uncomfortable cargo vessel trying to
find a hiding place and hoping to end up on a suitable planet to establish
their lives on, then finally running into the planet kobol…"
Aeon saw the look on Apollo's face. He grinned.
"Yes I know what you're thinking. It seems like this 'fleeing from the this
and that tyranny' felgercarb has been going on way before the thirteenth
tribe stuff and now us. But as we all know, fate sometimes seems to have a
distorted sense of humour… And isn't there a saying that history keeps
repeating itself…"

It took a lot of effort but Apollo finally succeeded in smiling. Why for
fracks sake was he so paralyzed in the company of this person.

"… And so the fleeing continues." Aeon smiled. "After a while, the word
about mercenaries approaching found its way to planet Kobol. The humans had
just enough time to once again escape, this time to end up on the thirteen
colonies, the whereabouts of one of which is still unknown."
"Umpf…"
"Yes, Earth." Aeon grinned. "Anyway… After planet Kobol was left behind, the
mercenaries lost track of the humans for milleniums but, they never gave up
the search. Yes, they are still out there, looking for us, relentlessly…"
Aeon paused. His dark eyes were on Apollo
"We are actually lucky that the cylons found us first and not the
mercenaries. If it had been the other way round, we wouldn't have been able
to escape like we now have…"
"But, there were humans who escaped from planet Kobol…" Apollo peeped. "…And
from Orion itself…"
"…Yes, but, you see, the mercenaries always learn from their mistakes. They
always learn. And there is a possibility they all live forever…"

Aeon fell silent for a while, gazing at the book Apollo was holding, lost in
his thoughts.
Then, after many centons, he finally looked up.

"The escapade from Orion is only an end of a story. A minor factor in the
complex of which I came here to talk to you about. A minor detail in a
continous nightmare that you need to be aware of in order to understand how
badly the fleet needs to escape the sphere of this white planet that we have
encountered."
Aeon paused, his serious eyes were on Apollo.
"The planet before us is Orion, the white beginning of eternal existence. A
kingdom where human souls have always been used for slavery that cannot be
stopped from being…"

"Really." The look on Apollo's face made Aeon smile, though vaguely.

"Yes, I know I'm not making any sense by telling you all this and then
adding that life itself as we know it, as far as I know it, started from
death. In the system of Du'yraan death was first. Death is life but in
another level. On another side… And the awakers were first too. The legends
discribes how they were born from death. The awakers were the ones to be the
first known living souls in the universe of as we see it. And they are the
ones that some of us humans consider as sagans. They are our gods…" Aeon
paused to smile darkly. "Ones that originate from pure chaos that the world
of death is."

"Uh huh." Apollo stared at.the crazy man opposite him.

"I do not know what is the beginning of death or is humans and how they
ended up in the system Du'yraan."
Aeon paused, then continued.
"Perhaps they have always been there, created by some higher beings who
might originate from death. Or perhaps the humans came from someplace else,
from another level, another side… Formed from a substance unknown, developed
from a physical and chemical reaction…That is all unknown to me, and not
relevant to my story in any way."

Apollo raised one eyebrow.

"The relevant factor is that the existence of humans was, is, and forever
will be, different from the one of the awakers. The human bodies, their
souls are not created to last in one level eternally. The humans are to die,
to transcend into chaos… perhaps continue from there to someplace else… Or
simply stop existing completely."
"Really?"
"However, the awakers of Orion did not let the humans to retire their
natural way of existing when the time came. The humans were brought back
from what we call death."
Apollo watched Aeon's eyes lingering around the library.
"And a fact is that when a being is unnaturally forced back from another way
of existing, distinctives, features of that other existence always follow
along. The being is not the same one as he had been before transcending. The
being is now a chaos of the so-called first level and the one that he has
been brought back from…"

Apollo could have just as well been listening to the undiciphered language
of caydramen.
He had lost track of Aeon's story a long, LONG time ago…

"And, like I said, the awakers did not let the humans, their slaves, die.
Therefore, for an unspeakably long time, the humans were completely unaware
of their true way of being.

And so it all remained, until one day X-552 realized that the humans do not
have to be slaves, or even brought back from the other side…"
Aeon grinned.
"…And then we get to the part where the rebellian groups started forming and
escapade was beginning to be being planned…"

"The part in the book…" Apollo took a wild guess.

"Exactly." Aeon smiled. "The human slaves escaped and the awakers sent
mercenaries after them, yes, but what I did not mention to you when I first
started telling this story was that the awakers didn't have to take the
chase too seriously for they knew that the humans would eventually return to
them… You see, the legend of Orion had it, that a chosen one would one day
be born and lead the descendants of the escaped ones back to the domain of
Du'yraan to be once again enslaved. And that is what has now happened for I
am the chosen one. The picture in that book is of me, created millions of
milleniums ago, billions of undescribable time elements before I was born…

Aeon could have just as well been telling Apollo that daggits had wings, but
still… The picture…
Apollo noticed that the man's dark eyes were now on him. Very serious dark
eyes.

"It's important that you believe what I'm telling you captain, because we
are running out of time. You have to lead the fleet away from the system
Du'yraan as quickly as you possibly can. The awakers are already aware that
we have arrived.

"Oh?"

"As it was envisioned in the prophecy, the leader of the newly-formed
orion-cult community, in this case commander Akhael, was to commit
ritualistic suicide at the time of D'ra. The moment of human outlaws
entering the sphere of Orion.

That suicide was to be completed by of the other members of the circle to
ensure that Akhael would be received to the side of chaos by the awakers
and be the first one to be brought back to gather us all together as one.
Yes, to kill us all so we could be re-formed to fulfill our destiny as
slaves."

Apollo had never heard anything this ridiculous in his life. "Erm…We have to
lauch squadrons to protect our fleet. We need to destroy this planet Orion…"

"No no no no no!" Aeon frowned. "Haven't you been listening to anything I've
said. The awakers are eternal. Death is only another level of existence.
Anyone who dies in the sphere of Du'yraan will return as newly formed. You
need to get the fleet away from this place! Now!"
"But…"
"Once you have taken the ships away to safety, you can destroy the re-formed
ones. Without the power of awakers they will not return and that power is
only powerful in the Du'yraan system…"
"Err…"
"The aim of the awakers is to re-form as many people as possible and that is
where commander Akhael comes in. He is to act as their tool. To kill…"
"This is crazy!" Apollo blasted. "This is… This is…"
"…The truth." Aeon smiled sadly. "Unfortunately this is all happening. There
is so much more to the universe and existence that you could possibly ever
imagine. Even my knowledge is merely a granule of stardust even though I was
born as the chosen one…"
"Okay." Apollo rolled his eyes. "Erm… How were you thinking that I should do
the destroying of the err…awaken ones…"
"That is where I come in." Aeon's smile became a little warmer. Apollo liked
that smile.
"As I told you I had a destiny to fulfill by bringing you to Du'yraan and,
oh yes, indeed I was one of the villains in this story… But hey! Who's to
say that I should be playing along with that felgercarb once all the
predestined is fulfilled. No one! And to be honest. I never liked my part as
the villain in the first place…"
Apollo grinned. This was unbelievable.
"So, I was thinking…"
Aeon reached over the table and took Apollo hand. Apollo flinched heavily.
"…Captain. In 23 centars there will be a gathering of the thousand moons in
the chamber of Orion and every one of the newly awakened ones will be taking
part in that gathering, including me. So…"
"…So?" Apollo stared at Aeon, waiting. The man's touch burned Apollo's hand
like solium fire but he didn't pull his hand away.
"…23 centars will be quite enough for you to lead the fleet away from
Du'yraan and once the ceremony begins, all you need to do is blow up the
Scorpion. The dead ones will not return…"

Apollo stared into those dark eyes for a long, long time.

* * *

Chapter 5

The shuttle from the library ship would be landing on the Galactica in five
centons. Apollo could already feel the descending starting.
He pushed the red button on his communicator and dialed Starbuck's code.

"Apollo! I haven't won anything yet!" Starbuck frowned into his communicator
as soon as he heard what Apollo wanted him to do. "I can't leave now! The
afternoon's first races are about to start and I've just bet my last cubits,
I can't…"
"Starbuck, get your butt onto the bridge! That's an order!"
"Apollo!!…"
"…"
"Captain! Whatever this is, can't it wait for another half a centar…"
"No Starbuck. When I say now, I mean now." Apollo switched off the
communicator.

"Frack!" Starbuck frowned.
"What?" Boomer glanced at the blond pilot. "Trouble?"
"It's Apollo." Starbuck put the communicator back into his jacket pocket.
He hated wearing those things on his wrist along with the timepiece and
tried to avoid wearing it as often as possible.
Apollo was always lecturing Starbuck how easily the thing could fall out of
his pocket and Starbuck could end up in a felgercarbish situation of not
being able to contact anyone in case of emergency.
"He wants us on the bridge. Now…"
"An attack?" Boomer raised one eyebrow.
"He didn't say." Starbuck's disappointed gaze lingered on the people and
capricorn –swarming race tracks, already pining after the cubits he was now
going to lose because he couldn't stay there to get rich.
"But if this was about an attack I think we'd heard the claxon or
something…"
"Did Apollo say he wanted me on the bridge as well?" Boomer eyed Starbuck.
"No… Not in so many words…" Starbuck murmured, then looked at Boomer and
smirked. "But if you think I'm going to leave you here alone to get rich
while I'm being forced to take care of duty, you're dreaming buddy!"

Still not noticing Ortega as passing him, Starbuck and Boomer headed towards
the main exit of the race tracks area.
Having obviously made a habit of it, Starbuck once again put his friendly
arm around Boomer, making the other man uncomfortable.
"Oh Boomer!" Starbuck sighed as they walked. "Why, oh why did we ever decide
to join the military!"
Boomer glanced at Starbuck with a raised eyebrow. "Mmmm… Probably because
knew you would have made a lousy stripper…"
"Lousy? Me?" Starbuck grinned. "Naaah, you gotta be talking about someone
else…"
They both laughed.

* * *

"Astral…" Lomas hesitated.
They were walking down the corridor leading to the Starfish deck and a
popular piscanian breakfast canteen.
"I didn't interrupt anything… I mean, you were with that boy…"

Astral smiled. His heart was thumping because Lomas was holding onto his
hand as they walked.
"Of course you didn't! That was Damon, a friend of mine. Originally from the
Celestra, a sectar or so ago moved to live on the Piscean. Damon's in my
prayer interpretations group."

Lomas fell quiet for a while. The sound of their steps echoed from the
corridor walls.
"That guy didn't look exactly happy when I ran into you…"
"Oh. I don't think it had anything to do with you Lomas." Astral squeezed
Lomas' hand. God he felt happy simply to be with this man. Happy and
desperately confused.
"It's just that Damon's been going through something pretty heavy and… well,
I think he just upset about what he thought happened to him last night and
he probably wanted to talk to me about it…"
"What happened to him?" Lomas glanced at Astral. He didn't give a shit about
Damon's problems, he just wanted to appear sympathetic, for Astral's sake.
"I don't really know." Astral mumbled. "When I ran into him yesterday he was
a nervous wreck…" Astral looked up at Lomas, smiling warmly. "I had just
been to looking for him in his quarters and then we just ran into each other
in the hallway. Just a couple of microns before you arrived."
Lomas could have stared Astral forever. In his eyes the beauty of this
perfect angel outshone everything else in the universe.
"I'm so glad I did… I missed you so terribly! I had to see you!"
Astral blushed. "I missed you too."
Lomas' heart could've burst with happiness.

Smiling, the two men walked down the rest of the hallway and entered the
plainly decorated Herring lounge of the Starfish deck . There was even now a
little line in front of the canteen doors although breakfast-time had ended
centars ago.

Still holding onto Astral's hand, Lomas led the angel to the menu placed
near to the canteen entrance.
No one payed any attention to a dark, curly-haired lad joining the end of
the line.
Damon didn't take his white eyes off Astral for a micron.

* * *

"Where's Ville? We need him to operate the delta sequencer…"
"Shouldn't you be discussing these changes with the council captain? Or at
least with commander Adama…"
"I can't get the balancer working. It's giving me 1,662 degree false
readings…"
"Try it with alpha omega…"
"Or with G509Fdsd…"
"Apollo, shouldn't you wait for Adama?…"
"What's going on here?…"
Apollo turned to see Tigh entering the bridge priority area. "I'm leading
the fleet away from system Du'yraan, colonel."
"System what?"
"The star system we are in right now. Umm, I'm sorry I don't have time to
explain…"
The doors of the main entrance slid open and Starbuck and Boomer stepped in.
"Apollo, what's going on?…"
"Where the frack is Ville?? I can't define the data on the delta
sequencer!!…"
"Starbuck!" Apollo turned and smiled. "I need to talk to you in private…"
Omega span around in his chair. "Apollo, I've now inserted the 5,16 degrees
angle into the CVF files. The Galactica should be starting to incline in
seven microns…"
Great! Thanks Omega…" Apollo walked over to Starbuck and took him by the
arm. "Come on Bucky. Let's get out of here…"

* * *

Harry Clifford was whistling while walking down the corridor to the IFB
financial department.
He had never felt better in his whole life.
And he had a plan.

After he had…errr… taken care of the on-duty cash keeper, he would take a
little commission from the safe and… Hell, he earned the commission! After
putting up with nuisances like Dimstar he sure as frack did!

Dimstar! That clown! And the other clowns! Harry Clifford frowned.
Perhaps, after fetching his deserved little commission, he should indeed pay
a little visit to dimwit and the other dimwits on the Scorpion.
Yes… A smile started spreading on Cliffords face, then it froze.
No!
Harry Clifford frowned again realizing that if he now went and killed those
clowns, they would return to live forever in the circle of Orion and he
would have to bear those jokes of artists for an eternity to come.
Harry Clifford did not want that! Hell no!
Damn it.
Oh well…
Picking up with the whistling again Harry Clifford took a couple of Fred
Astaire-esque (indeed) steps and threw his make-believe silk hat to an edge
of a…well, something, like in old movies.

"Smells like teen spirit." Daniel smiled from the shadows, startling the
fracks out of Harry Clifford.

"Danny boy! I didn't know you were here." Clifford grinned at the faceless
man who had just killed him a little while ago. "Following me about are you
now…"
"Just making sure you don't forget about making me a star." Daniel stepped
into the light and started walking closer to Clifford.
"Aren't we just the greatest team…"
"We sure are." Clifford winked. "Especially after I've robbed the financial
department's safe…"

* * *

Ouch, it hurt to move the head.
Ville tried to see something in the darkness. God what a sickening smell.
Just like dead rats or something…
What the frack has happened?? The last thing Ville remembered was leaving
the bridge and rushing down the corridor towards the officers' club to get
Omega a cup of coffee… Then… Something had hit him from behind…

Ville pressed his fingers to his temples. Damn that throbbing pain. It made
it hard to think straight.
How long had he been unconscious. Yes, that is what he must have been
because Ville had no idea how he had come to be in this dark place… And what
the hell was that music?! Ville lifted his head and listened.

It must have come from a room next to this place… An annoying, weird melody.
Somewhat familiar… Sounded a bit like the Pinky Dinkies. Ville hated all
that 4th millenium kinda stuff. Peace and love… parbon flowers in your hair…
Hey, hang on a centon! What's that… A vague streak of light. Must've come
from under a door…
Ignoring the throbbing pain in his head, Ville started crawling towards that
light… And he was fracking right. There was a door!
Running his hand over the smooth metallic surface Ville tried to come across
the knob or something.

The door was suddenly opened from the other side, startling the fegercarbs
out of Ville!
He narrowed his eyes trying to make sense of the person now standing in the
doorway but he couldn't see shit because of the light coming from the room
behind.

"Welcome back to the world of the concious." The dark blur smiled. "You were
out of it for quite a while. Perhaps I should have hit you a little less
hard…"

"Where the frack am I?" Ville glared at the blur. "And what am I doing
here?"
The maker laughed. "Always those same damn boring questions. Why is it
always so important to know where you people are? What does it matter? Why
don't you want to know what's going to happen?! If I was you, I'd be a
little more concerned about the future than the present…"
Asshole, Ville thought to himself. "All right. What's going to happen to
me?…"
The maker grinned. "Nothing… Yet." Boy, this little Ville had more guts than
one would've thought by just looking at him. The maker was very pleased to
have made this particular choice.
Of course little Ville wasn't quite Apollo but…
"Right now I have to go and leave you here alone for a little while, but
don't worry. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Where are you going?" Ville was still trying to make sense of the damn blur
in the doorway.
"I'll be back." The maker smiled. "Why don't you just try and make yourself
comfortable in the meantime. Oh, and take care of your face now! You
wouldn't want to to look mediocre in my special little collection now would
you…"
"What the hell…?"
The door closed in front of Ville's face, leaving him once again alone in
the darkness.

* * *

"Apollo. You've gotta be kidding..."

They were alone in one of the bridge offices, Apollo standing by the window
facing Starbuck, Starbuck leaning against the door, staring at Apollo with
disbelief.

"You're telling me that a man whose picture was put in a book a frack of a
long time before he was even born came to you and told you that we have to
leave this place now or we can never die… Come on!…"
"That is exactly what this man told me." Apollo tried to keep the expression
on his face serious. "I know what you're thinking Starbuck. Trust me, I
found it a little hard to believe myself at first but…"
"A little hard… Apollo, for sagan's sake!!"
"…But I think this man, this Aeon, is telling the truth…I can't explain it
but…"
"Aeon. So you're on first name terms already…"
"Starbuck!!"
"All right, all right, you're the captain, you're the love of my life, of
course I believe you… But erm, you must admit that this all sounds like
something an IFB soap opera script writer might make up…" Starbuck grinned.
"…A soon to be unemployed IFB script writer.
Apollo smiled.
"Okay, so what do you want me to do." Starbuck's eyes were on Apollo. "I
don't think you asked me here to fly this little battlestar…"
"Starbuck." Apollo hesitated. "When we exit the Du'yraan system I need a
couple of reliable people to come with me and blow up the phi sector of the
Scorpion, and since you're the person I trust the most in the universe…"
"Hey hey hey! Wait a centon here! I'm a viper pilot, not an unabomber!"
"I know Starbuck." Apollo smiled, now a little darkly. "And believe me I
wouldn't ask you to do this if there was any other way, but…"
"What do you mean there isn't another way? Why couldn't Barton for example
take care of it. He's the fleet hero'n all, shooting the caydraman…"
"We cannot talk to anyone about Du'yraan or our plans to destroy the
Scorpion. Those so-called awaken ones are everywhere. They are numerous and
continuously multiplying, we cannot take the risk that one of them will find
out about what we are prepairing for. Therefore I cannot approach anyone
else with this matter than you Starbuck. You and Boomer. You are the only
people I truly trust."
"You trust your father for sagan's sake! Why in heavens haven't you spoken
to Adama about this…"
"Because I need people I can trust who can perform. Yes, I love my father
very much but I don't quite see him sneaking around the Scorpion presetting
laser blasters…"
Starbuck grinned but there was visible concern in his eyes.
Apollo sighed.
"I don't think you realize much I wish I didn't have to ask you Starbuck."
Apollo's voice became quieter, sad. "I mean… If something ever happened to
you…"
"Nothing's gonna happen to me." Starbuck walked over to Apollo and placed
his hands on the man's shoulders, gazing deep into Apollo's blue eyes.
"This is what we'll do…" Starbuck grinned. "When this felgercarb is over we
will finally get sealed and live happily ever after. No more putting off the
date, no more excuses, Okay?"
"I promise." Apollo replied so softly. "No more delaying…"
Starbuck pulled Apollo into an embrace and closed his eyes.
"I love you Apollo." He whispered. "I love you more than life."
"I love you too Starbuck." Apollo smiled beautifully. "Soon we'll be the
happiest sealed couple in the universe."
Starbuck grinned. "Yes. And soon you can start bringing me breakfast in bed
every morning-cycle like a good husband should."
"Dream on buddy!" Apollo snorted. "You'll be too busy washing my tunics…"
Both men grinned, happy.
Such perfection being in love.
"…Although I have to be honest with you Apollo," Starbuck mumbled with his
eyes closed. "I'm not in the least bit interested in this
not-being-able-to-die story line. You know, the awakers, the ones waking up
and all that bombing felgercarb. I think it's a damn shame the writer
couldn't have come up with something a little more imaginative and
adventurous…"
"Don't think about it Starbuck." Apollo smiled. "And after all… We do get
paid for this."

"WHAT? HEY WAIT A CENTON!" God peeks through a gap in the clouds. "Who's
tampering with my creations. No one is supposed to say such things!! This is
REAL LIFE damn it!
The next time I hear someone say such felgercarb, he's fired!"
"Your creations?" Starbuck raises one eyebrow. "I thought we were Glen A.
Larson's creations!"
"Yeah, we are… kinda." Apollo smiles. "God created the creations in Glen A.
Larson's head."
"But what if God is Glen A. Larson?!" Starbuck's eyes are wide. "What if…"

"I'M NOT GLEN A. LARSON! HE'S A SAGAN FORSAKEN FRAUD! NO ONE CREATED
ANYTHING EXCEPT ME! AND WHAT I CREATED IS REAL LIFE SO STOP SAYING THIS IS
ALL FANTASY OR I'LL COME DOWN THERE AND KICK YOUR BUTTS!…"

Sheeeshh! Calm down God! Calm down!!
Okay, back to the story…

Ummm, Apollo… I hate to interrupt this beautiful moment of love but there's
something that doesn't really add up..."
"What?" Apollo disengaged from the embrace and looked up at Starbuck.
"First of all. How can you be so sure the Scorpion will follow the
Galactica? As you told me the awaken ones are just dying to land on the
Orion if excuse me my chose of words…"
Both men laughed.
"…So why would they follow us away from the planet instead of towards it…"
"That's easy." Apollo smiled. "As you know the ships in the fleet have
automatic navigation system that is connected to the control center of the
Galactica. In normal circumstances, most of the ships' captains are just
sort of loitering on the bridge, letting the computers take care of
everything so using this auto-nav, we can so easily direct the Scorpion from
the Galactica.
Our only concern is to keep the captain away from interfering with the auto
system, and that won't be too hard since the captain of the Scorpion will
verifiably be very much alive in the normal way when we start to proceed
with our plan."
"What do you mean verifiably? How can you tell?…"
"We'll place one of the Galactican bridge officers on the Scorpion to do
nothing but make sure the navigation is on auto pilot.
"Okay." Starbuck smiled. "Sounds good. So, how do you say we go back to the
hugging…"

* * *

"NO NO NO NO NO!" Dimstar through his hands in the air. "It's after the
fourth bar when you come in! The fourth bar! Not the goddamn third!! And you
start with a three-quarter stroke and then slide into the 4/4 beat!!! Got
it?! How many times do I have to tell you this!…"

They still had fifteen centons out of two centars comptel studio time left.
'Otherside' had been asked to record two b-sides for their fourthcoming
single but so far they hadn't even finished recording the first.

"If you ask me this song sucks!" Jamey was leaning against the loudspeaker
placed behind him. "Who would want to listen to a 4/4 bar contemporary jazz
with a continous descending scale and a thunderous bass… As far as I'm
concerned, this new stuff is a disastrous…"
"Nobody asked your opinion Jamey…"
"You never ask my opinion Dim! I'm getting a little pissed off about your
attitude!…"
"Cool it guys…"
"If you don't like my attitude then what the hell are you still doing in my
band!…"
"YOUR BAND, My ass! The last time I checked 'Otherside' was registered as
OUR band…"
"Jamey…"
"Felgercarb! I'm the only goddamn person who brings any real artistic value
into this shit!…"
"Artistic value?" Jamey laughed. "The only thing you're cabable of doing is
dressing up like a clown!!"
"Oh, so you're jealous of my original appearance and adventurous sense of
style! I should've known…"
"Both of you guys dress up as clowns…" Charley frowned.
"…And when was the last time you contributed any meaningless musical value
Jamey, HUH? I don't recall you composing any of the songs on our new
album!!…"
"That's because you felt so goddamn insecure you didn't allow anyone else's
investments to be put on the album for you knew that compaired to them, your
little songs would stand out as felgercarb!!…
"YOU LITTLE PRICK…" Dimstar flew over to Jamey, grabbed a hold of his throat
and starting to strangle him.
"CUT IT OUT, YOU JERKS!" Nicael ran over to the two guys and tried to pull
Dimstar away from Jamey.
"Ehrmm… Excuse me…"
"YOU FRACKING PIECE OF FELGERCARB!…"
"Hello! I'm sorry for interrupting…"
"WHAT?" Dimstar's eyes were flashing with rage as he turned to look at the
man standing in the studio doorway.
"Umm… My name is Harold Depp and ummm…"
"Spit it out Harry boy! Can't you see we're a little busy here…"
"…I'm representing Roger Walton of the Pinky Dinkies and I'm here to give
you a summons to court…"
"Are you out of your mind, man??" Dimstar glared at the guy in the doorway.
"What is this felgercarb?"
"No felgercarb sir. The Pinky Dinkies have are charging you for plagiarism…"

* * *

A waitor with red hair and lots of freckles led Lomas and Astral to their
table, held the chair for Astral and then handed the men their menus.

"I must apologize but we are out of mushies and derrata sauce…" The waiter
confessed. "…but if you want something refreshing but spicy, let me
recommend jhanba-buds. We had an extra fresh delivery this morning, straight
from the agroship…"
"I'll have a cup of coffee without milk, please." Lomas handed the menu back
to the waiter. "And a packet of artificial sweeteners…"
"Yes sir." The waiter smiled pleasantly, then his eyes lingered on Astral.
"And you sir?"
Astral didn't believe he could swallow a bite. "A tulipian salad and a glass
of fresh parbon juice."
Thank you sir." The waiter nodded and disappeared with the menus. Lomas took
Astral's hands gazing into the man's green eyes.

"I thought we'd never get inside this canteen." Lomas grinned. "We must had
stood in that queue for centars, or at least it felt like it…"
"Yes." Astral smiled, not being able to look straight into Lomas' eyes. "It
sure took a long while…"
"But my love, there is no place that I would have rather wanted to be than
in that queue with you." Lomas meant what he said.
Somehow Astral knew it and it made him even more nervous… and ecstatic.
"I think we need to talk Lomas." Astral pulled his hands away from Lomas'
hold although he didn't really want to. "I feel this is all happening too
quickly. I don't feel comfortable…"
Lomas felt a little jolt of fear in his heart.
"I'm sorry Astral, I don't want to pressure you into anything. It's just
that… I feel so happy when I am with you! I feel like I have finally come to
the place which I have always dreamed about but never really believed would
actually exist…"
Astral felt shivers running down his spine. "But… I don't really know you
Lomas. I don't know you at all!"
"You will get to know me Astral." Lomas smiled so heartmeltingly. "Please
give me a chance to show you that I am worthy of you… That I am not the
insane crook that everyone thinks I am. With you my love, there is nothing
bad in me…"

Damon would've puked if he had been alive.

He was sitting a couple of tables away from the happy couple and pretending
to sip his hot grog, reading the Piscean Dispatch & Courier, listening to
every word Lomas and Astral exchanged.
For felgercarb's sake what syrup the wavy-haired man was letting out of his
mouth. Even that smoothy-boy Starbuck had never sank that low...

"All I ask is to be near you…" Lomas was still gazing into Astral's eyes.
"All I want is that you exist…"
Astral couldn't take it any more. He threw his napking onto the table and
struggled to his feet. Lomas shot after him and took a hold of his arm to
make Astral turn.
"Please! Please give us both a chance for the happiness we have so far only
dreamed about!!"

Hiding behind his Dispatch & Courier, Damon rolled his white eyes.
Oh for Kobol's sake…

Astral felt he couldn't breathe. Felt that Lomas was suffocating him but he
was too powerless to fight his arm free, too weak to walk away…
Lomas pulled him closer, pulled him into an embrace and Astral was too weak
to resist.
He closed his eyes and surrendered to Lomas' kiss.

From behind his Dispatch & Courier, Damon let out a sigh of utter
capitulation.

The waiter with red hair was standing beside the table that was reserved for
Lomas and Astral. He decided not to open the parbon juice bottle but instead
take it back to the kitchen.
By looking at those two men the parbon juice would have left untouched.
And he was right.
After disengaging from the kiss, still looking dazed, Lomas took Astral's
hand and led him away from the canteen…

* * *

Adama was the first one to notice Apollo and Starbuck coming out of the
bridge offices.
Omega had informed Adama about Apollo's requests to lead the fleet away from
current location.
"What is going on here Apollo?" Adama narrowed his eyes. "Why have you
ordered the Galactica to proceed to direction sega without first having
consulted me or any of the council members…"
"Father. I'm doing as I see best for the fleet and its safety…"
"I have never questioned your motives Apollo because I've always relied on
your abilities as a squadron captain and leader but…" Adama glanced at the
large radar, "…I don't see any reason for this sudden change of journey
plans. The planet that is now behind us seems in no way hostile, nor have
there been any apparent reasons why patrols shouldn't have been sent down
there…"
"All I'm asking you to do is trust me father." Apollo's very determined eyes
were on Adama. "Trust me. I know what I'm doing…"
"Famous last words."
"SHHHH!!" Ensign Anna's intructor gave her a warning glance.
Adama's suspicious stare was on his son for a long time. All other people on
the bridge were quiet, waiting, their eyes on the two men.
After many many centons of silence, Adama finally smiled. He placed his hand
on Apollo shoulder.
"Son, I give you complete authority on the bridge. I trust you will lead us
all to safety."
"I will not let you down father." Apollo put his hand on top of Adama's. "I
promise you…"
The two men, father and son, smiled at each other in complete unison.
"Why do I feel like I'm watching Bonanza…"
"Shut up Starbuck! Shut up!"

* * *

The damn door didn't give in an inch, no matter how hard Ville tried to
struggle with it.
Nor did it really improve the situation that it was dark as hell in that
room. The streak of light coming from under the door wasn't much help.

Think Ville, think! What did they teach you in the Young Computer Genius'
handbook: Never panic. Everything has a solution.

Who's panicking!

Okay. The door was metallic and by the feel of it, the metal was stretoxic,
so kicking in the daggit wouldn't be much of a choice.

No windows in the room. Not even one facing the space. Obviously there would
be no escaping through windows then. Not that it would've had been possible
anyway. There were no G-suits in sight…

Shit! The air ventilation system! Well of course! Those pipes were circling
all over the Galactica and Ville wouldn't even have to crawl more than two
metrons. The next room would be just fine. From there he could sneak out to
the corridor and storm onto the bridge to report a kidnapping.

But hey… What if this wasn't the Galactica. Ville had been unconscious so
the kidnapper could've taken him anywhere in the fleet.
Think, Ville. Think.
Duh! There was nothing to think about. Whatever ship this was, there would
still be a ventilation system very much alike the one on the Galactica. It
would be a piece of mushies finding a public area and after that, no matter
where Ville was, he would without any doubt get help getting back to the
Galactica.
"Okay, so what's there to wait for!" Ville grinned to himself. "Get your
butt in the ventilation pipes!"

Thank heavens Ville was a technical genius and had studied all kinds of ship
scale models so he had a pretty good idea where the vent-hole would be, even
though he couldn't see anything in the room.
The ventholes were always above the doorway for safety reasons.

Why? No one knows. That's the way it just has always been with the colonial
ships.

Another thing that was indeed typical on the ships of the fleet was the size
of those ventilation pipes, but hey, Ville had no cause for concern. For
once was being small actually a definate advantage.
Ville would have no difficulty crawling along in that confined space. And
after all, it wouldn't be much more than two metrons… Only to the next room…

Ville tried to eye around in the darkness. He would need something to stand
on though to be able to reach the venthole and remove the grating.
It was no use. He couldn't see felgercarb.
Damn. Why was this always so damn hard in science fiction adventure novels!
Now what?
To Ville's utter surprise the door was suddenly opened and the blur of a man
was back to standing in the doorway.
"And how are we doing?" The maker grinned. "Getting tired of being alone,
are we?

Sagan how irritating that sounded in Ville's ears.
That voice…
Ville narrowed his eyes to make sense of who the blur was. There was
something… something very familiar about the figure but still he couldn't
quite put his finger on it…

"Why am I here? And what the hell am I doing here!?" Ville put his hands on
his hips to appear more determined.
"Still pondering about those same meaningless questions are we…" The maker
smirked. "Oh dear. Such a waste of time. Didn't I just…"
The maker's eyes buldged out of their sockets as Ville hit him in the
stomach using all his strength.
The man bent over, cursing out loud.
Ville wasn't planning to stay around to hear it.

He flew past the maker into the brightly lit room and tried feverishly to
spot the door out.
He didn't.
Instead, he spotted something else that made him stop and gasp for air…

"Like them?" A grinning voice lingered from behind.
"You should since very soon you will be one of them.

Horrified Ville stared at the faces on the walls.
Familiar faces. Plastic faces. Real faces. Rotting faces…

Fighting to remain conscious and sane surrounded by this awful sight, Ville
didn't even realize the maker taking a dive towards him and striking him in
the back with a butcher knife.

* * *

Chapter 6

Caiari Moonfall. Day 4.
Evening.
It was time!

Japhet Vincente eyed around the chamber to check that everything looked just
great.
It had been his job to make sure that the candles were placed in the right
angles and the altar of offering had been cleaned from all the blood that
the previous gathering had caused.

Everything was perfect. Sire Akhael would be very very pleased.

Japhet Vincente pulled up his hood and walked to the door. There he stopped
once more to take one last look around.
Just perfect. Japhet Vincente smiled.
Then he finally opened the door and stepped out.

Japhet Vincente was one of the original sixteen men of the circle.
One of those sixteen desciples of sire Akhael, devoting their fates into the
hands of Aeon, the chosen one.
And, although Japhet Vincente had had his doubts, all the shit had indeed
paid off as envisioned. It was finally time for the final gathering. Time to
be officially re-born and become officially everlasting.

Japhet Vincente wouldn't wait to get to see the awakers.
The old writings of Ora'an described them as beyond fire and ice, above
light and darkness, in the heart of all that you do not see.
Japhet Vincente had no idea what that felgercarb meant but if the awakers
were half as pretty as that Aeon fella, they sure would be pretty indeed…

Yo, this is God. Stop calling that bloke Japhet Vincente. It's irritating
the felgercarbs out of me!
Sorry God. Sorry.

Right!… So… Vinnie was rushing down the corridor. He still had a couple of
things to do before the gathering was to start.
One of those was to iron sire Akhael white cape and the other was to make
sure the catering would go smoothly.

You're surprised? You didn't know that dead people enjoy good food as much
as so-called live ones? Oh, of course they do, and because this would be the
last meal for them before landing on Orion and starting a new way of living,
Akhael had wanted to serve his deciples the best on the ship.
Yes, Akhael had followers amonst the staff in the kitchen of the Scorpion,
and those followers had been more than happy to obliged to steal the mushies
and the caviar.
They were even prepaired to take care of the staff if needed.

So. Japhet Vincente (A GLARE FROM GOD) sorry, Vinnie exited the Opal sector
and hurriedly made his way the lounge of the new rising sun.

Someone rushed past him, almost knocking him over but Vinnie was too
occupied in taking care of things that he barely noticed…

"I'm gonna kick that Roger Walton's ass!…" Dimstar was storming one or two
metrons ahead of Nicael and Oscar, heading towards the half moon sector
where the residents of the Scorpion were accomodated.
"No one, and I mean no one accuses me of plagiarism!!!…"
"Calm down Dimmy!" Nicael was shouting from behind. "You're not going to
accomplish anything when you're in that kind of state of mind…WAIT!…"
"Get the frack out of my way!" Dimstar pushed his way past a loving couple,
all cuddly cuddly and so completely lost in their own marshmellowy world
that they were totally oblivious to what was going on around them.
People like that pissed Dimstar off big time. Especially when he was in a
bad mood and having just been accused of plagiarism… FRACK THE WORLD!…

Lomas gave the pushy by-passer a glare.
An absent-minded one since he was much too happy to be really bothered about
it but it still was a glare.
Then he turned to take a loving look at the beautiful angel beside him.

"Are you sure you want to do this Astral? Lomas asked softly. "You do know
that I don't want anything else than your complete happiness…I don't want to
push you into anything…

The shuttle from the Piscean had just landed on the Scorpion.
They hadn't talked much during the ten centon flight and even now Astral was
mostly silent as he let Lomas lead him by the hand along the corridors and
through lounges towards Lomas' quarters.

They both had known it the moment they had surrendered to that kiss in the
canteen.
There was no need to talk.

Astral had not wanted to stay on the Piscean and Lomas sensed it.
Without having said much he had taken Astral's hand and started leading the
way to the launching bay.
Lomas had held Astral so tenderly during the shuttle flight, never wanting
to let go. Never.

"I love you angel." Lomas squeezed Astral's hand as they walked. "I would be
so completely fulfilled just by staying at your side… Please tell me if this
is making you uncomfortable…"

Astral gave Lomas a diffident, but still such a warm smile it burned Lomas'
heart.
"I want to be with you Lomas." Astral said softly. "I have no choice…"

* * *

Aaaarrgghhh! Damon wouldn't be able handle this much longer.

He had followed Ali and this wavy-haired syrupy fella from the Piscean to
the Scorpion and was now spying them as they were walking down the
corridors.
Yes, Damon intended to get Astral.

During the shuttle flight when he had been sitting at the back, keeping his
eye on those two love birds, he had had difficulty not letting out a scream
of agony.
In any other circumstances Damon considered himself quite a romantic fella
but THIS!…
Shheeeessh!
One had to draw the line somewhere!!

Damon glanced at his timepiece to make sure he still had time before the
gathering was to start.
He didn't.
Frack. He had had no idea time had passed so quickly. He wouldn't have more
less than half a centar to drop by his quarters and change into the white
outfit before making his social debut in front of all those new buddies.
He would have to hurry!

Frustrated Damon turned and started rushing back to wards the lounge of the
new rising sun.

He could already spot a couple of awaken ones going that way, grinning and
chatting. Seemingly excited about all this.
Damon raised one eyebrow.
Nice outfits!
He couldn't wait to change into the one of his own.

Daniel was wearing black velvet although it had been particularly mentioned
in the telekinetic invitation that one should be dressed in white.

Duh! Daniel hated white. White made one look fat!

Besides, why should he look like all the other awaken ones. He was a
soon-to-be star!
Stars didn't let others to tell them what to do or wear. Especially stars
with Harry Clifford as the manager. Daniel turned to look at the man beside
him.

"You think you could get us seats in the front row Harry?"
"No Daniel." Harry Clifford didn't pay much notice to the bloke he was with.
Oh, but thank sagan the guy had chosen to wear a mask to hide his
facelessness.

Although they were all a little different now than before being reborn,
Harry Clifford wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea of having to feast on
the bloody mess that used to be Danny's face.
Clifford had earlier spotted a couple of other faceless geezers in the crowd
and they sure didn't look too elegant.

Still half a centar before they would all be let into the chamber.
Harry Clifford eyed around the lounge to spot a bar or something. He
wouldn't have minded an icy grog with a lemon.

Someone who looked like a detective poked Harry Clifford by accident.
Clifford turned to give a guy a disapproving glare but investigator Terry
Stanton didn't even notice.
He was staring at two guys who were quarrelling about having come to the
gathering too early.
A grin had appeared on Stanton's face. He had recongnized one of those
faces.

"Well I'll be damned!" Stanton's smile was wider than the Caprica canyon.
"Look Sammy, isn't that Ortega talking with that dumb-looking mechanic!"

Samuel Dexter pretended not to hear what Stanton was saying.
Stanton kept babbling excitedly.

"Yeah…I used to bust that guy a couple of times for cheating customers
before his murder… Oh you remember how he occasionally used to work on the
livestock ship, taking in bets for capricorn races…Can you believe it, we
had sex a few times in his cell. What a lousy lay that guy was… Sammy???"
Stanton turned to give a surprised glance to the man he was with.
"Daggit steel your tongue or what?"

Samuel Dexter gave Terence Stanton a distinguished little glare and then
continued to stare forward. He was pouting.

Investigator Dexter hadn't said a word since prison barge and he was never
going to talk to Terry Stanton again! How dared he turned Dex into an awaken
one without asking his permission! Shit! Samuel Dexter hated to be this…
this… dead living thing!

"I'm not talking to you Terry." Dexter pouted his lips even more.

"Hey…" Stanton noticed another familiar figure in a badly bleached criminal
investigator's uniform strolling by.
"Shit! Wasn't that Peter Kohn! Oh man, I hope he isn't going to decide to
take over the criminal investigation now that he's back…"
"What criminal investigation?" Dexter murmured darkly. "We all know by now
what happened. There is no need for an investigation any more."
"I thought you weren't speaking to me." Stanton smirked.
"I'm not!"

Half a centar had almost passed and the lounge of the new rising sun was
beginning to be pretty full of awaken ones.
Most of the them were shamelessly white-eyed although there were some, who
were wearing sunglasses and hooded capes to hide their true way of being.

Cree wouldn't have guessed that there would be this many people taking part
in the gathering. Commander Akhael and his deciples must have been pretty
busy these 48 centars.

A fact was, that people were usually so attached to one another that in most
cases, a newly born awaken one rushed immediately after his awakening to
kill a person dearest to him to make him an awaken one too, and so on and so
on…

Indeed Cree notice that most of the awaken ones were standing in their own
little groups.
Not many were strolling around, making new aquaintances.

Cree's mind lingered to Lomas.

How so very much had he wanted to turn Lomas into an awaken one too, but
Cree hadn't had a moment's chance of getting Lomas alone with him.

Felgercarb, you all say but hey, Cree respects Lomas way too much to have
killed him in his sleep last night.
That's why he hadn't tampered with Lomas right after they had met.

Cree had just sat there beside the bed with his heart full of love, watching
Lomas sleeping. Reminiscing the prescious times they once had together as
master and apprentice.

How Cree still adored Lomas from the bottom of his heart.
No way in frack did he regret that he had thrown himself in front of Lomas
to save him from Baltar's bullets. Cree had gladly died for Lomas.

Now they were once again having the chance to be together.
This time, etenally.
Cree just had to get Lomas alone with him for even a little micron.

Last night, listening to Lomas' quiet breathing, Cree had kept on rocking
back and forth in an ugly wicker chair beside the bed, until the early
centars of morning cycle had risen.

At 7.00 Cree had slipped out of Lomas' quarters to fetch himself something
to eat and by the time he had gotten back, Lomas had already left the
quarters and Cree hadn't had a chance to be alone with him since. That damn
Astral was always hanging about!

Oh, but Cree knew he would still get Lomas.
Perhaps right after the final gathering, definitely before landing on the
white planet. Yes he would!
He would have to hurry though. There wouldn't more than a centar or two
before the landing and the surrendering to the awakers was to take place.
After that everything would be too late. Cree knew very well that the ones
to die after the surrendering would be taken to mines of midland, never to
be seen again.
Cree would definitely have to hurry!

* * *

"Fifteen centons and we will be leaving the sphere of system Du'yraan."
Omega's eyes were on the readings that were flashing on the computer screen.
There was a freshly-fetched, steaming cup of coffee and a tulipian bud on
the table next to him. "I'm switching on the alpha scanner in case we might
run into an astralon field or a heliumtrioxide storm."
"Please do that Omega." Adama's eyes were gazing at the fading whiteness
outside the large window. Tigh's hand was on the old commander's shoulder.
Both men were wearing black lace lingerie under their bridge officers'
uniform.
"This is captain Apollo." The bridge loudspeaker announced. "I'll be landing
to the Scorpion in fiftyseven micr…"
There was a little static in the receiver, then a silence of a micron or
two.
Launch controller Rigel leaned forward to adjust the beta frequency.
"…ission to use MFC frequency during the mission to avoid leaking of
classified information…."
"Permission granted." Adama replied to the bridge communicator microphone.
Rigel looked up at him. She realized something serious was taking place on
the Scorpion. Rigel knew very well that the MFC frequency was only to be
used in case of an inter-fleet conflict situation.
"Commander, what is going on?"
"I do not know, Rigel." Adama furrowed his brow, looking suddenly very old
and grave. "This time, I really do not know…"
"I'm sure whatever it is, Apollo will be fine." Tigh said softly, his hand
still holding on to Adama's shoulder.
He was wearing pink nail polish…

* * *

"My dear participants!…"
Commander Akhael appeared at the top of the stairway that was leading down
to the lounge of the new rising sun.
There were two hooded men on Akhael's tail and a HUGE, welcoming grin on his
face.
"How nice to see you all here so plentiful and nicely dressed…"

Akhael's gaze swept over the crowd of white, then lingered on Daniel in his
black velvet suit.
For a micron there was something dangerous in Akhael's white eyes. Then it
disappeared.

"Ladies, Gentlemen! All you newly-awaken ones! May I please ask you to
proceed to the Opal sector! We have a very nice evening ahead of us in the
chamber of Orion!"

The crowd of dead living people in white outfits started elbowing each other
as they all tried to proceed towards the corridor leading to the Opal sector
at the same time.

"Stop stepping on my toes you idiot!!"
"Sorry! It's kinda hard to notice…"
"Stop pushing!!!"
"If you ask me, this whole gathering together before the final gathering is
a little badly organized, I mean, why couldn't we all have gone straight to
the chamber. This rising star lounge is obviously a little too small for us
all, not to mention this damn corridor…"
"I don't think sire Akhael really thought it all though and believed us to
be so numerous… I'm sure I didn't think this would all turn out to be such a
success…"
"But wasn't the meaning of this all to re-form as many of us before landing
on the white planet as possible…"
"Yeah, the rest of them go to a mine somewhere. We are the priviliged ones."
"What are we going to be assigned for on the Orion anyway? No one has really
told us what our true meaning is…"
"Oh, I think we were summoned here only to inhabit a deserted planet."
"What if the awakers just want to conquer. Perhaps it's in their blood. They
want subservients."
"Okay, considering that is true…What do you think they are going to make us
do?"
"Probably nothing… Perhaps to serve them drinks or something…"

Akhael was standing on the top of the stairway, watching those ignorant,
shiny happy people pushing their way to the corridor.
Awaken ones. Re-born to so anxiously to fill their ancient destinies…
Akhael smiled.
…As slaves.

Akhael didn't notice that someone had stayed behind from the others and was
now gazing at him from the shadows.
Someone, who had once loved him like a father.

Slowly Aeon turned his sad eyes away.
It was time to get down to the seldom used landing bay G-section to meet
Apollo.

* * *

"11 centons…" Omega's eyes on the readings on the computer screen. "A three
to five per cent possibility of strong heliumtrioxide streams within the
outer edge of system Du'yraan. Thirty five to fourty per cent possibility of
negative gamma encapsulation…"
"I'm ready to switch to F-streamers, sir…"
"Hold it! The segmentation is not yet completely synchronized. I need seven
microns…"
"You got it sir. Just give me a sign when you're ready…"

* * *

Starbuck couldn't believe his eyes when he saw man that was waiting for them
by the G-section elevators.
He poked at Boomer who was staring at Aeon with his mouth wide open.

"Frack! I never thought people like that existed!" Boomer panted. "That guy
looks like a sagan or something…"
"Oh, I see people like that ever day…" Starbuck replied casually, his eyes
eyes twinkling. He just couldn't resist teasing Boomer whenever he had the
chance.
"Oh really!" Boomer turned to give Starbuck a glare. "And where, may I
ask…In your dreams…?"
"In the mirror!" Starbuck smirked and avoided just in time as Boomer tried
to slap his butt with the handle of his laser gun.
"Careful with those toys Boomie…They kill!"

"Apollo." Aeon smiled beautifully as the three men approached. The
expression on Apollo's face was mesmerized.
Starbuck and Boomer tried not to stare, but they did anyway.

"The gathering is about to start." Aeon's dark eyes lingered on the three
men. "We have approximately six centons and thirty seven microns to get to
the opal sector. After that you only have a centar to set the explosives. At
10.00 there will be a scheduled break for fumarello smoking and going to the
turboflush and after that the participants will retire to a reserved lounge
in the half moon sector to enjoy late dinner…"
Aeon paused. His eyes lingered to Apollo.
"…And as you surely are aware of, it will be impossible to destroy the half
moon sector without blowing up the whole Scorpion…"
"A centar will be quite enough." Apollo croaked, unintentionally still
gazing at Aeon but he just couldn't help it. "The four of us will easily
cover the opal sector in…"
"Apollo, I'm not going to be setting the explosives with you." Aeon said
softly. "I need to be in that chamber when the gathering starts."
Apollo stared at Aeon, slowly realizing what the man was saying.
"No!…"
"I have a part to fulfill. I'm the chosen one. I have to be there…"
Aeon." Apollo took a hold of the man by his shoulders. "You can't be in the
chamber when the explosives go off…I won't let you…"
Aeon's dark eyes were sad. "I have to."
Apollo's limp hands dropped to his sides. "No…"
Starbuck's alert eyes were lingering between Apollo and Aeon. He tried not
to acknowledge the sudden fear in his heart.
"I'm ready to die, Apollo…" Aeon smiled a little, a sad smile. "…For I have
no choice."

Apollo fell silent, not being able to take his pained eyes off Aeon's
beautiful face.
Apollo knew. He knew too well.
If Aeon wasn't to show up in the chamber, the awaken ones would not proceed
with the gathering.
There had to be a way…
"In how many centons will the fleet exit the du'yraan system?" Aeon
continued, trying to ignore the look in Apollo's eyes.
Starbuck was staring at Apollo.
"Nine centons and 16 microns." Apollo replied with so much darkness in his
heart. "If we want to make it, we will have to proceed now…"
"Take care of yourself Apollo." Aeon whispered. "I do not regret telling you
about my destiny. I do not regret that I will have to die."

Apollo wanted to reach out and touch Aeon. Pull him into an embrace. Hold
him tightly, apologize…
He didn't.

One last smile and Aeon turned to leave.

Three men with heroic hearts watched in silence as Aeon walked away from the
bay area.
Apollo was the first one to turn away…

* * *

They were alone together in Lomas' room, lost in their very own starlit
universe.
Astral kept his eyes closed. He was trembling.

Trembling as he felt how Lomas was gently taking off his cape, then removing
the pisceanian insignias…Stroking the back of his neck, the locks of his
hair…
Astral didn't want to be there!
He would never want to be anywhere else for as long as he lived!

Lomas' gentle hands moved downwards to caress Astral's back.
How those soft lips were gently tasting the saltiness of the skin on his
neck, on his chin…

Lomas sighed as Astral's trembling hands found their way into Lomas' hair,
his body leaning closer to Lomas'…

"My, my! What a damn shame I don't happen to have my IFB video camera…"

Astral screamed like hell when he noticed the old man and his two
companions!
Lomas jumped fifty metrons in the air, more startled by Astral's scream than
the weird man with colourless eyes having appeared next to the window.

"What the…" Lomas' jaw had dropped. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY
ROOM!?!!!"
"The door was open." Akhael grinned. "I knocked but you seemed a little
occupied…"
"GET THE FRACK OUT OF HERE BEFORE I CALL THE GUARDS!!!!"
"No need to shout!" Akhael mumbled. "I might be old but I'm not deaf…"

Lomas eyes flashed furiously.

He leaped towards the man but Astral caught a hold of his sleeve in time.
"Calm down Lomas… I think he might have knocked… I think I heard it…"
"What do you want?" Lomas glared at the old man, enraged
"You." Akhael grinned. "I want you."
"What??" Lomas was sure he had heard wrong.
"You see…" Akhael raised one eyebrow. "The first time I saw you I knew. You
have such a strong aura around you. I can even see it right now… It would be
a damn shame if you were sent to the mines by the awakers. I could make you
a special one…"
"What is all this felgercarb!?" Lomas almost burst out laughing.
"Yes, I could make special. And you know what…"
Akhael smirked.
"I think I will!"

Two hooded men attacked Lomas and Astral, one of them was holding a stun
gun.
"Astral run!!" Lomas screamed and threw himself against the stubbier man.
The tall one grabbed Lomas from behind and locked his wrists in a hurting
hold, smoothly avoiding Lomas' furious kicks.

Astral didn't know what the frack to do! He hadn't been attacked like this
before… or rather… he hadn't been standing beside his lover being attacked
like this before!
Confused, frightened, Astral glanced at Akhael who seemed to be completely
enticed by Lomas struggling with the two hooded men.
A little excited grin was lingering on the old man's white face. Astral
suddenly realized that no one was paying any attention to him!

Astral had no idea what the long iron stick resting against the wall was but
he grabbed it, and with a graceful fling the stick landed on the tall man's
head.
The man let out a piercing shriek and grabbed his head with his hands.

This sudden, unexpected attack against his tall buddy distracted the stubby
man's attention for a fraction of a micron but that was a fraction too long.
Lomas struggled free like a wild animal and ran to Astral who was still
recovering from the violent heroic deed he had just done.

Akhael let out a frustrated screed and dived towards Lomas. Something white
had started to come out of his eyes like liquid.
Astral screamed.
"Come on!! Lomas yelled and grabbed Astral by the arm.

Together they dashed towards the door that was still open.
Astral glanced down and noticed that the white felgercarb was starting to
gather on the floor like a pool of blood.
He turned and gasped as he saw how the stuff pouring out of Akhael's eyes
was reaching towards them like it was alive.
"Lomas! For sagan's sake…For sagan's sake…"
"No time for enjoying the scenery damn it!" Lomas grip on Astral's arm
tightened, making him wince.
"Come on!!!" Lomas too glanced back and he saw it. "Oh my god! RUN! IT'S
COMING AFTER US!! THE WHITE IS COMING AFTER US"

Astral was sure his legs were going to fail him but relentlessly Lomas was
holding onto his arm, forcing him forward.
Down the corridor they flew, towards the stairway.
There was no time to wait for the elevators…

They both felt it. Something was approaching with terrible speed. A coldness
far worse than icy wind or water under the surface of a freezed lake.
"We'll make it!" Lomas kept panting. "Only a couple of more metrons! Come
on…"
"I can't!!…" The cold was making it harder to move. Astral almost didn't
feel his legs now. He stumbled but Lomas relentlessly held onto his arm, not
letting him fall, pulling him forward…

"NOBODY ACCUSES ME OF PLAGIARISM, DAMN IT!!"

"What?" Lomas turned his head to glance at Astral eyes wide.
"I didn't say anything!" Astral stared back. There was no one else in the
corridor.

"NOBODY ACCUSES…"
"You said that already Dim…"
"Yeah, you've said it like a thousand times already Dim!…"
"AND I'M GOING TO KEEP ON SAYING IT UNTIL THAT ROGER WALTON… *THUMP*
"What the…!!"
"For sagan's sake…"

Something with a determined facial expression flew from behind a corner and
before Lomas even realized what had happened, he found himself sitting on
the floor, staring at the most ridiculous pair of platform shoes and a
hairstyle that could've been mistaken for a drowned boray.

The person under the stupid hair was rubbing his chin with a frown.

"It's gonna leave a mark." Dimstar cursed out loud. "Hell, it's gonna leave
a mark. How can I go on tour with a bruise on my chin…" His eyes lingered on
Lomas. "And who are you?"
"What?" Lomas stared at the drowned rat.
"Dimmy, let's go to the Rising Star and forget about all this plagiarism
felgercarb, okay?"
"Lomas, are you all right?…"
The white!! Lomas eyed around wildly, ready to dash to his feet. There was
no sign of it. The corridor bathed in normal, boring fluorescent light like
most of the other corridors in most of the other ships. There was no trace
of the white. No icy coldness.
… "Astral?"
"I'm here." A startled croak came from somewhere near Lomas. "Are you
alright?…"
"I'm fine…What happened to the white!!?"
"It's gone." Astral's voice still trembled a little. "It just… vanished."
"Are you all nuts?" Dimstar frowned. "There's a bruise on my chin and a
stain on my shirt and all you people can do is talk felgercarb!…"
"Come on Dim." Nicael walked to Dimstar and put his arm around his shoulder,
trying to suppress a smirk. "Let's take a shuttle to the Star and get
grogged…"
"Do you guys have any idea where the launching bay is?" Oscar mumbled.
"Do you guys have any idea where we are right now…" Nicael's eyes lingered
in the corridor.
"In fact… Which direction did we come from? All these cross corridors look
the same to me!"
Lomas looked up at the three mop-heads.
"You've got to be kidding!"
"Why would be kidding?" Oscar's eyes lingered to the wavy-haired man. Hmmm,
not bad looking for a non-artistic bloke. Oscar breathed in to make his
chest muscles look bigger.
"Hi! My name's Oz! Are you from around here?…"
Lomas was speechless.
"Someone's coming." Astral grabbed Lomas' arm. "I hear footsteps…"
"Great! Now we can ask directions…"
"Shhhhhhh!"
"Lomas, what if it is the white-eyed man… Or the white itself…"
"What are you crackpots talking about? Why isn't anyone concerned about my
bruised chin…"
"It's coming…"
"SHHHH!"
…

"What?" A head of a very surprised looking man in his early thirties peeked
from the stairs.
"Nothing." Astral smiled feeling relieved and stupid at the same time.
"Actually… Can you show us the way to the launching bay." Nicael gave this
charming stranger a charming grin. "We're a little lost…"
"Hi! My name's Oz! Are you from around here?…"
"Shut up Oscar!"
"The launching bay?" The man eyed the bunch of obviously crazy men. "Yeah
well, the elevators will take you directly to the main entrance of bay… You
kinda can't miss it."
"Umm…" Nicael smiled. "Where are the elevators…"

"Come on Astral." Lomas whispered and took the angel's hand. "Let's get away
from these morons…"
Together, hand in hand, Lomas and Astral started towards the stairway. None
of the other men seemed to notice them leaving.

"What's your name dude?" Oscar's eyes sparkled. Not bad! Nice hair. And long
too! Must be a sign of some sort of creative spirit. "You live around here
or…"
"Oh, I'm Roger Walton." The man smiled a little warily. "My friends call me
Pinky. Nice to have met you all, now, please excuse me I was just on my way
to…"
"AAAAARARRRRRRGGGHHGHH!!!" Dimstar let out a blood-freezing howl and took a
dive towards the man, grabbing him by the throat.
All people within sixty hectares must have either choked on their drinks or
jumped ten metrons in the air, including Lomas and Astral.

"NOBODY ACCUSES ME OF PLAGIARISM…NOBODY ACCUSES ME…"

"CALM DOWN DIMBO!!" Nicael jumped on Dimstar's back, trying to make him stop
strangling the poor Roger Walton.
"Get the frack away from me whoever you are!" Walton croaked.
"Dream on buddy!!" Dimstar mumbled through his clenched teeth. "Nobody
accuses me of…"
"Let him go Dim! The guy can't breathe! You're gonna kill him…"
"LET GO OF THAT MAN OR I'LL SHOOT YOUR DICK OFF!"

"Huh?" Oscar turned. Who the hell was that!
Lomas and Astral turned.
Nicael, who was still hanging onto Dimstar turned. Dimstar, who was still
strangling Roger Walton turned.
Poor Roger walton didn't turn. Dimstar was still having too strong a hold of
his neck. He couldn't move his head.

"All right…" security officer Storke was pointing his laser gun at Dimstar.
"Which one of you gentlemen is going to tell me what's going on here."

Astral paled as he realized what was the colour of the corporal's eyes…

* * *

"First one set!" Starbuck glanced up at Apollo and Boomer. "Nineteen to go…"
"All right guys, it's time to split up." Apollo's eyes lingered on
Starbuck's back. "Remember, we have to be in the launching bay at exactly 50
centons. That'll give us a few centons to launch our vipers and get the
frack away from the Scorpion."
"What about the civilians that are…"
"The normal people of the Scorpion are being evacuated as we speak." Apollo
glanced at Boomer. "…And as planned, we are not blowing up the whole
Scorpion. Just the opal sector. The colonials that are located in other
parts of the ship are quite safe. The emergency shields will come down
automatically…"
"All right! Let's get down to business then!" Starbuck grinned. "The quicker
we deal with this felgercarb, the sooner we can put it behind us! Come on.
Let's go!…"
"Lieutenant…" Apollo hesitated. "…Starbuck…"
"Yep captain?" Starbuck halted and looked back. Apollo walked to him.
"Be careful." He whispered, softly touching Starbuck's cheek with his hand.
"No foolish and unnecessary heroic deeds, okay buddy!…"
"No more than usual." Starbuck's grin was wide. "Besides… Have I ever done
something unthinkable and unnecessary risky before…"

Boomer looked away as the two men kissed.

* * *

Stormy applause and whistling started the micron commander Akhael entered
the chamber of Orion.
With a huge, radient smile of a wonderful host on his face, Akhael walked to
the podium that was placed at the back of the chamber and turned towards the
applauding audience.

Akhael lifted his arms and the applauding calmed down a little.
Daniel couldn't take his eyes off the huge emeralds that were sown onto the
hem of the commander's white cape. Hell, Daniel should be the one to wear
such things! He was the soon to be star of the fleet and not that Akhael
dude who was, and would always remain, only a plain commander.
"Ladies and Gentlemen…" Akhael beamed. "Dearest awaken ones! I apologize for
being a little late but you will all understand when I tell you that there
was some unfinished business that I just had to take care off…"
Aplause and whistling.
"…Unfortunately that unfinished business remained exacly that: Unfinished
business…"
Little laughter from the audience.
"…But that will be taken care of sooner or later… NOW my dear awaken ones…
NOW is the time to raise your eyes towards the ceiling of this chamber and
come together in the spirit of the awakening! Let's us enter the power of
all entirety! Let our minds cluster to summon the everlasting gods!…"

Eyes were raised to the ceiling. Breaths were being held.

"Let your souls free, my friends! FREE YOUR NEWBORN SOULS! COME TOGETHER!
COME TOGETHER IN ETERNAL IMMACULACY…"
"What?…"
BLAM!!! A fountain of perfect whiteness gushed from the eyes of those
hundreds of people and started cascading over the chamber of Orion like a
snowfall.
"Pretty." Zak grinned and poked the person next to him. "Kinda reminds of
the winters of my youth…"
"And now my immaculate clustered one…"
"Who's he talking about??"
"Shut up Dick! Shut up! He's referring to our unified souls…"
"… May I ask you to turn your gaze towards the entrance…"
All eyes turned.

"… Ladies and gentlemen…" Akhael grinned. "We have guests!! Yes! Please
welcome: The last of the prescious ones!…

Everyone in the chamber kept their anxious eyes on the doors as they started
to open with a squeak.
Surrounded by a cloud of hazy smoke, Lomas, Astral and the Dimstar posse
stepped into the room, followed by the heavily armed and widely grinning
security officer Pimsy Storke.

"Hi-de-ho commander!" Officer Storke lifted his hand to a traditional
scorpion military greeting with the middle finger pointing up and the others
crossed together to symbolize the 'all for one and for all' -concept.
"The mission is accomplished sir! I bring you the one with the aura and his
little mates!"
"Good work Storky!" Akhael rubbed his hands together and gave the officer an
extremely pleased grin. "Come, my friends! Don't remain there standing by
the doorway! Come a little closer, you prescious ones!… Come!…"
"Yes sir! Officer Storke grinned and started pushing Lomas and the others
towards to the podium where the commander was standing.
Akhael watched them approaching.

"Hey guys!" Dimstar poked Nicael, gave Oscar a wide grin and pointed at the
podium towards which they were walking. "They have a stage in this place.
It's kinda small but big enough for us to give these guys a concert they'll
never forget. I bet that's why we were brought here in the first place! They
want a show!"
"Great Dim." Nicael raised one eyebrow. "And how were you thinking we
supposedly gave them a concert. We don't have our instruments!"
"Well… we can all sing a cappella ad nauseam." Dimstar winked. "Like those
legendary Earth-fellas The Backstreet boys in every damn happening they
attend. I've always wanted to kick the blond one's ass…"
"Sounds good Dimmy. I mean the singing." Oscar grinned. "There's just one
little thing…"
"What?" Dimstar turned to glance at Oscar. Officer Storked shoved him
coldly.
"I can't sing." Oscar smirked.
"So?…"
"Shut up and walk!" Nicael hissed from behind them, feeling officer Storke's
laser gun being pressed against his back. "I don't think they brought us
here for a gig…"
"Take care of yourself Boomer." Apollo put his hand on the darker man's
shoulder. "I'm expecting to see you back at the lauching bay and that is an
order lieutenant…"
"Yes sir!" Boomer grinned. "Keep the viper engines warm for me…"
"…And no stripping on duty, lieutenant." Starbuck's eyes twinkled. He
reached out and pulled Boomer into a hug. "Just remember to keep your mind
on the bombing…"
"I'll try my best." Boomer smirked. "No promises though…"

With a little smile lingering on his face, Apollo watched Starbuck and
Boomer disappearing down the north-gamma and the phi-beta corridors.
Then he turned and entered the south-west hallway of the opal sector.

Apollo was on his way to save Aeon…

* * *

Chapter 7

"Two centons and seven point five microns to exiting system Du'yraan, sir."
"Okay. Bring the thrusters to effiency delta-omega."
"Done sir!"
"Control C to position 5,3."
"Negative gamma encapsulation percentage increasing disturbingly! It's
affecting the scanner combing…"
"The heliumtrioxide streams getting stronger!! I can't keep the balance of
the alpha ailerons!!"
"One centon and 50 microns to exiting point."
"I can't hold the balance!!…"
"Scanner showing unidentified moving objects seventy hectares west!"
"Those can be caused by the gamma encap! Check the FDF-radar…"
"What is this vibration?" Adama left Tigh's side and walked to Omega. "I can
feel it getting stronger…"
90 microns to exiting point…"
"We have trouble commander." Omega turned his head to look up at Adama, who
was now standing behind him. "We have to turn back! The heliumtrioxide storm
is gaining strength the further we get from Orion. There's a possibility
that it can tear the Galactica and the other ships apart within four
hectares' distance!!…"
"Well, bring down the shield."
"The shield will be no help, commander." Omegas expression was worried as he
eyed the readings on his computer screen. "The streams are far too strong!"
"40 microns to exiting point…"
"We have to turn back!"
"Establish connection with Apollo! We have to inform him of the situation!"
"20 microns…"
"SIR, I CAN'T HOLD THE DAMN AILERON BALANCE!!!"
"19 microns…"
"There's no way we're gonna make it, sir. We HAVE to turn back!"
Omega stared at the computer screen…

* * *

"Starbuck, what are you doing in my sector?" Boomer raised one eyebrow.
"Don't tell me you got lost!"
Starbuck grinned. "Nope. I was just the usual heroic me and finished setting
the explosives quicker than you."
"You obviously had less explosives to set. Oh well, you might as well give
me hand with this now that you're here."
It's real strange though…" Starbuck's eyes were lingering on Boomer's bent
back while the guy was finishing setting the timer.
"What is?"
"Have you noticed that all the corridors are completely deserted. I've never
been in a situation on any ship where I haven't run into at least one or two
people no matter what the time was…"
"What's so strange about that?" Boomer straightened his back and rubbed it.
"All the abnormal people have gathered together in one place while all the
normal ones are being evacuated. Doesn't sound so strange to me…"
"It's just that…" Starbuck's face was thoughtful. "It all seems too easy. I
have a bad feeling about this…"
"It's just a bad feeling Starbuck. I've had a couple of those."
"Yeah but…" starbuck grinned. "…have I ever been wrong about anything
before…"

The Scorpion fell into a sudden inclination and Starbuck banged against the
wall.
Boomer managed just in time to grab a hold of a sprinkler overhang and kept
his balance.
"What the frack was that?"
"I don't know… It kinda felt like a little air hole…"
"There is no air in space Boomer."
"Well, whatever it is, it looks like it's going to continue. The vibration
is getting worse. We better finish our job as soon as there's a possibility
to finish it…"
"I think I'm getting space sick." Starbuck rolled his eyes. "Why oh why did
I ever decided to join the space force…"
"Cut the felgercarb Starbuck and help me with the two last explosives."
Boomer was already stroding off towards the next spot, taking support from
the wall to keep his balance.
"We have to get this finished! Come on…"

* * *

"…10 microns to exiting point." Assistant navigation controller Mitch
glanced at Omega. "Shall I keep the 24 angle direction?…"
Omega didn't answer. The vibration had turned to a continuous shudder. Two
ailerons had already been torn off by the streams and a third one was
already out of control.
"A connection with captain Apollo cannot be established sir…"
"7 microns…"
Omega lifted his eyes and looked out of the largest window. Violet,
fast-moving swirls could be seen with plain eyes.
"Keep the 24 angle direction Mitch. We are going to take the fleet out of
the sphere of Orion as planned..."

* * *

Apollo was beginning to think he was lost although he knew for sure he
wasn't.
The corridors on the Scorpion opal sector were meandering like rabbit holes
and they all looked alike. An interior decorators nightmare.

The continuous shudder was a bit of a bitch but Apollo had no time to worry
about that now.
Besides, he knew it must have been caused merely by a phi-particle storm or
something alike.
Yes, they had had to go through stuff like this in the academy.
Difficult-flying simulation courses.

Apollo, of course, had passed all those courses with grade alphas, but to
Starbuck, the instructor had been forced to give a couple of deltas.
Not because of Starbuck being a lousy pilot, no no, quite the opposite. It
was just the way Starbuck never obeyed the commands that annoyed the
felgercarbs out of instructor Helton.

Apollo had no time to worry about the storm. He had to save Aeon.

Yes, Apollo knew very well that he would risk the whole operation by putting
off the setting of his detonators until he had managed to get Aeon out of
the chamber and away from the opal sector.
Bloody stupid, hell yes, but Apollo couldn't help himself. Neither could he
give any intelligible reason for why he was doing this. He just… He had to!
He couldn't let Aeon die.

An unexpectedly violent shudder destabilized the ship, making Apollo lose
his balance and tearing off a poorly fastened fluorescent lamp from the
ceiling.
It fell and missed Apollo only by couple of millimetrons.

"Going somewhere captain?"

Apollo's heart leaped to his throat. He lifted his eyes and found himself
looking straight at the puffy face of Sire Uri with white eyes.

"Oh my god!" This was the last thing Apollo had expected to happen.

"You verbal expressions just continue to delight me." Uri grinned. "No
wonder you turned out to be a military man instead of a poet."
"How in the names of sagans did you get out of the prison barge???" Apollo
stuttered, then suddenly paused, realizing that it had to do something with
the legend of the Orion. "Oh, of course…"
"Yes." Uri smiled. "I have friends in high places."
"And one of them was kind enough to kill you and bring you back to life."
Apollo smiled sarcastically. "Oh, the advantages of being a loved man…"
Uri laughed.
"So, what are you doing here Uri." Apollo eyed the man disgustedly.
"Shouldn't you be with the rest of your friends…"
"I was just on my way there." Uri smirked. "I needed to use the turboflush
first so I'm a little late from the gathering… But, hey. Why don't you join
us captain. Be a party animal for a change…
"No thanks." Apollo smiled coldly. "I'm trying to quit."
"But I insist!" Uri laughed. "In fact, I won't take no for an answer…"

Apollo didn't even feel needle.
Suddenly he was just flying through darkness, the world remaining further
and further behind…

* * *

Lomas was to be next. Akhael had wanted to safe the best for last.

With coldness in his heart, Lomas had watched how the ridiculously dressed
Dimstar and his two pals were butchered.
Someone might have called this mindless brutality 'ritual murders' but to
Lomas it only looked like sickness of the human mind and it made him
abysmally sad for he had been the same way.

With the deadly cold still crawling inside, Lomas had witnessed Dimstar and
the others returning.
And he was to be next.

Akhael did not want to re-join Astral and Lomas after death, so he had
decided to not kill the blond bloke and thereafter Astral had been
completely ignored.

Astral was shoved amongst the audience of the awaken ones, where had crawled
to the wall and was now leaning against it, his body still limp and shaking
from having seen the murders of those three lads.

Astral couldn't bare to see these monsters hurting Lomas.
This sight of that beautiful man, bound and helpless on the podium and the
old commander with his white eyes disgracing him. Tearing his tunic off and
running those long fingernails… hell, claws… along the chest, leaving
bleeding cuts on the pale skin…
Astral buried his face in his palms.

"A pretty boy you are." Akhael was smiling, walking around Lomas. "We'll
make a heck of a good team."
Lomas didn't condescend to answer. He just kept his eyes staring into the
faceless crowd in the dark, candlelit chamber, hoping to see Astral.
How undescribably releaved he had been when the old devil had announced that
the angel would be left unharmed.
Oh yes. Lomas would so willingly suffer desperately for a million milleniums
and die a thousand deaths than let someone hurt Astral.

"You'll thank me later." Akhael continued. "Oh, you'll see. Believe me when
I tell you that those mines are a bitch…"
Lomas wasn't listening a word.
He didn't let himself react as he felt the old commander's hand moving up to
stroke his hair.

"…We'll be much comfortable in the personal service of the awakers. Living
in our own little place, you and me… Exploring the pleasures of eternal
life…"

Cree had forgotten to breathe.
He stared at the two men on the podium with his face turned ashen.

"…And what pleasures indeed!" Akhael's voice had turned a little huskier.
"Just the two of us… Oh, and possibly my cousin!." Akhael laughed.
Lomas' face remained expressionless.

Astral fought to keep his eyes downcast so he wouldn't have to see the
terrible despair that had crept into Lomas' eyes.
He didn't see Damon staring at him from amongst the crowd.
Damon didn't see doctor Salik eyeing him from the other side of the chamber.

"I'm sure I know that lad from somewhere." Salik pondered. "You don't forget
a hair like that…"
"Oh, that's just one of Starbuck's ex-lovers' ex-lovers." Cassiopeia
snorted. "You remember Aurora. The one with the big hair and a stupid plan
to take the Celestra…"
"Oh, of course." Salik remembered. "Aurora… Funny that I don't see her
around here. One would think she would've been the first one to be killed by
Damon. Those two having been lovers and all…"
"Obviously not…"Cassie didn't care. "By the way doc. Thanks for killing me.
This sure beats being in a coma."
"Oh, don't mention it." Salik waved his hand negligently. "My pleasure. I've
always been one to endorse euthanasia, and who else would I rather have put
out of her misery than you my dear Cassiopeia."
"Nice choice of wording doc…" Cassiopeia smiled. "…But thanks. I appreciate
it."
"Yeah…" Salik grinned. "I would've killed Athena too but I couldn't figure
out a way to sneak onto the prison barge without being noticed."
"…Which was probably a good thing since your wife and two sons came back…"
Cassie smiled.
"This is all fracking confusing!" The well-dressed person next to Salik
frowned. "Can someone please explain to me how this all works! I thought
that the only people that returned were the ones killed in the sphere of
Orion…"
"No, no, no." Salik gave the person pleasant grin. "The previously died ones
can also come back."
"But…" The person in a Garcini suit next to Salik furrowed his brow. "Aren't
we going to have a hell of an overpopulation problem if all the people that
died in the destruction of the colonies came back to us now…"
Salik smiled. "Don't worry mister…"
"Clifford. Harry Clifford."
"…Mister Clifford. The ones that have not died in the system Du'yraan can
only come back if they are being thought about… longed for."
"Really?" Harry Clifford raised one brow.
"Yep." Salik nodded. "You have to want someone to return in order for him to
do so."
"Funny…" Cassiopeia suddenly thought of something. "I haven't seen Serina
returning… Nor Ila, or… even Bojay!"
"That just comes to show us that Apollo has moved on with his life. And so
has Adama… And Sheba too."
"Yeah." Cassiopeia replied bitterly. "Who would want the plain old Serina
back if one has Starbuck…"
"Forget Starbuck Cassie." Salik took a hold of Cassiopeia by the arm and
squeezed. "He's not worthy of you."
"Yeah, right! And daggits have wings…"
"But, ummm…" Harry Clifford was not yet quite satisfied with the answers he
had gotten. "Iif one has to want someone to return in order for that person
to be able to come back…"
"My head is beginning to ache." Cassie rolled her eyes. "Can't we talk about
something else."
"…Then why do those people who were killed incedentally or just because they
were annoying as hell…"
Harry Clifford's eyes lingered to Dimstar who was seemingly having the time
of his newly-formed life, tottering around in his platforms, introducing
himself to everyone who was willing to listen. Sagan that bloke irritated
the fracks out of him.
"Why do those people return?"
"Because they were killed in the sphere of Orion, right under the nose of
the awakers." Salik grinned. "Now, can we please change this subject."

"Oh my gawd…" Cassiopeia's jaw dropped. "Pinch me, someone. I'm dreaming…"

Salik and Harry Clifford paused chattering and turned to follow Cassie's
stare.
And so did everyone else in the chamber obviously, since the room became
dead silent.

Aeon was walking towards the podium of offering.

Having dropped the cape of unidentity and now being exposed to enchanted
eyes, Aeon moved softly without looking at anything, his eyes meeting no
one's.

He walked to Akhael and kneeled down before him, bowing his head to receive
permission to conclude what had began so many uncountable time units ago.

In that position they remained, Akhael and the beautiful man, for centons,
until Aeon lifted his face and his eyes met the commander's.
"I'm ready." Aeon spoke.

"Yeah, so am I." Terence Stanton hissed. "With a guy like that… Sheeeesh…"
"Shut up Terry." Samuel Dexter was still pouting although he had quite
forgotten about it by now.
Daniel, who had gotten lost from Harry Clifford didn't say anything. Just
watched how Aeon arose from before Akhael and walked the man lying on the
podium.

For a while ago Daniel could've sworn it was the same perfect man that had
asked directions to the turbowashroom in the sigma lounge party the other
day, but now looking at the fella, lying there like an old rug, barely
conscious but still humanly alive, chest covered with cuts and scratches and
the breathing being seeminly hard, the man could in no way be the same
imposing creature who Daniel had even considered being one of the important
ones.

Duh! Of course this wasn't the same guy. Daniel never forgot a face. Err…
Especially now that he didn't have a one of his own. But no worries! Daniel
had just decided to find himself a new face. A gorgeous one. The mask was
too damn sweaty for practical porpouses. Things should never be sweaty when
one is about to become a star…

Lomas narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of the blur that knelt beside
him and started to mumble uncomprehendible gibberish.

Jeeez, how badly his head was hurting. Lomas would've given his eternal soul
for a painkiller and a big glass of fresh, cold water.

"Where's Astral…? Where…" Lomas tried to lift his head.
"You'll feel better if you don't try to speak." Aeon said quietly, his mind
lingering feverishly on Apollo. What were they doing right now!? In how many
centons would it all be over!?
Would it all be over??

Aeon's face was so beautifully serene, that if one would've have seen a
glimpse of what was actually going on behind all that calmness, one would've
shit!
Aeon was in shambles!

No, Aeon wasn't afraid to die. (I mean: To die for good. A comment from
god.) It was just the damn wait. The knowing that something should be
happening soon but not knowing exactly when or is it actually ever going to.
The very thing that Alfred Hitchcock might have called suspense.

Music started. Such a beautiful melody it hurt.
At first no one understood where the sound was coming from. Everyone kept
looking at each other, puzzled, trying to spot the person humming.
Then they all realized it was Aeon. First humming, then starting to form
words.
Holding a silver-plated dagger and one of the black candles in his hands,
singing the most haunting melody anyone could ever remember hearing.

"This sucks!" Dimstar frowned. "That's a completely wrong key for a lament.
The guy should've chosen the D-minor scale…"

* * *

Uri put the syringe back to his pocket and eyed the unconscious Apollo.

Such a great thing that he always happened to carry a packet of dekar in his
pocket. You never knew when the perfect moment came to use it. And this, if
any, was one.

Why, you ask. Why did sire Uri, who has no meaningful part in this plot,
stun the poor Apollo and was now bending over to take a strong hold of
Apollo by under his arms to drag him to the chamber of Orion to be killed
and re-born? Oh, it's nothing special. Uri's just the kind of person who
likes to do things by the feel of it.

Just like the inspiration to help Baltar rape Adama when they were all
younger, MUCH younger… or the desire to do so again yahrens later, when
Baltar had captured the old commander, was holding him prisoner on the cylon
base ship and had invited Uri for a nice, intimate dinner… Damn it. Uri
could still so well remember the bitter feeling of disappointment when he
had realized that Adama had managed to escape just before the big moment.

"You should keep away from the mushies, boy." Uri panted.
It wasn't exactly a piece of primaries pulling Apollo's limp body along the
floor of the corridor. Perhaps he should just leave Apollo here and forget
about holding him hostage and demanding a special kind of ransom from Adama.

Yes, this brilliant idea had just now entered Uri's head. Demanding Adama to
give him sexual favours in order to get his prescious son back.
And then, after having had enough of playing with Adama's toys, Uri would
kill the old goat and they would live happily ever after as awaken ones.

Something whacked the Scorpion out of its balance and threw sire Uri against
the metal wall causing him to hit his head, lose consciousness and fall to
the floor beside Apollo.

Fire, caused by the explosions set off by Starbuck and Boomer, broke out in
the north-gamma area, starting to devour its way quickly towards the
south-west hallway, the flames crawling hungrily closer and closer to where
Apollo and Uri where lying…

* * *

What the hell was THAT?!" Commander Akhael quickly tried to take support
from the wall but missed and unintentionally stagedived from the podium,
falling flat on some of his faithful followers.
Terence Stonton dislocated his his shoulder when trying to hold on to
something protruding, when the ship took the dive.
The candles placed all around the chamber fell and set fire to everything
that happened to be stumbling nearby, the chamber of Orion soon becoming a
scene of panic and desaster.

Screams of desparation and extreme agony were soon resounding all around,
reaching nightmarish peaks, the smell of burning flesh filling the air as
hundreds of human torches lit the chamber of death in lights of horror.

One of the statues on the walls got torn off and crashed on Cassiopeia,
penetrating her chest.
Doctor Salik let out a terrified yell and tried to pull the statue out.
Someone's laser gun malfunctioned and shot Salik in the forehead.
With blood gushing out of his head, he fell to the floor.
"Oh god, I have to get out of here…" Damon was desperately trying to escape
towards the door, but stumbled on two burned bodies he didn't recognize and
fell over.

The fire caught up with him, setting his curly hair in flames and so did
Damon burn to death atop Zak and little faceless Ville, who had managed to
make it to the gathering although the maker had killed him kinda late…"

* * *

"Let's get the frack out of here!" Boomer had already reached the door at
the end of the corridor, holding it open to Starbuck who was running like
hell towards him.

Flames were reaching from behind, filling the corridor with thick smoke,
making it hard to see ahead.

"The 4/13 bit eplosions are due in just couple of microns!" Boomer was
frantic. "We have to get out of the opal sector before the Chamber blows up
or we'll never be able to get out!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Starbuck panted. "Calm down. It's not like the
ship's on fire or something…"
"Somehow I don't find that very amusing." Boomer murmured. "And stop wasting
time and energy on talking felgercarb. We have to get out of this place!"

Starbuck reached the doorway and both men rushed to the next corridor, the
door behind them closing with a bang, and hopefully making it harder for the
flames to move to the direction where the launching bays were.

Two other explosives shuddered the ship, making Boomer and Starbuck stumble,
but determinedly they staggered along.

"This sure is not my idea of a nice, harmless adventure." Starbuck mumbled
while running. "I would rather be fighting the cylons than a bunch of dead
people…"
"Let's just hope that we are outside the sphere of Orion." Boomer grabbed
Starbuck by the arm and tried to get him to run faster. "Otherwise this
little adventure has been worth felgercarb!"
"I trust in Omega's skills." Starbuck was out of breath but managed a grin.
"That daggit has directed the Galactica away from trouble more times than I
can count!"
"Oh, that can't be very many then…"
"Shut up Boomer and run!…"

* * *

"We're out of the Du'yraan system!" Assistant Navigation controller Mitch
yelled. "I'm trying to hold these exact co-ordinates! If we move any more
forward the ships are going to be history. Our only chance is to try to
remain stabilized in this position…"

"IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" Second-in-charge assisting controller Micky Moonshine
screamed. "THE STREAMS ARE TEARING OFF THE REMAINING AILERONS. WE HAVE TO
TURN BACK OR WE'RE GONNA LOSE ALL NAVIGATION CONTROL!"
Calm down officer." Omega gave Micky Moonshine a glare. "I'm not deaf."

Omega turned in his chair to face Adama, who was trying to hold his balance
standing behind him.
Tigh had already rushed to the bridge turbowashroom to be space sick.

"Commander?…"
"I trust in your power of deduction Omega." Adama replied. "I'm sure your
decision will be what's best for the situation."

Omega stared at Adama, hesitating, but only for a couple of microns. Then he
turned back to speak to the personnel communicator microphone.
"We will try to keep out of system Du'yraan until we hear from captain
Apollo. We have to fight for Apollo's sake. Just hang on there Mitch… Micky…
We'll make it!"
"Sure we will…" Micky Moonshine mumbled to his computer screen, raising one
eyebrow.

"I'm getting strange codes from the Scorpion, sir." F-trained data observer
Dixon stated. "It looks like part of the ship is being blown apart!!…"
"Might be heliumtrioxide distortions." Omega mumbled absently, trying to
concentrate on keeping the Galactica in one piece. "Like the unidentified
moving objects in the scanner earlier…"
"THERE GOES THE FIFTH ONE!" Micky Moonshine shot to his feet. "WE HAVE TWO
AILERONS LEFT! THIS IS OUR LAST GODDAMN CHANCE…"
"Stop screaming and keep your concentration on the ones left…"
"OH HEAVENS! WE LOST CONTROL OF THE LASER GENERATORS! THE D-CDT IS
DISABLED!! THE HELIUMTRIOXIDE JUST DESTROYED OUR DEFENDING SYSTEM!"
"Frack!" Adama cursed. "Okay. Let's all calm down. The only thing we have to
worry about right now is trying to keep away from the Du'yraan sphere. There
is nothing threatening us at the moment so we can all take a deep breath and
get the laser generators fixed when we get out of this damn storm."
"Commander. I'm receiving radar warnings…"
"As I said, those might be distortions. Don't pay too much attention to
them…"
"But…"
"Oh shit!" Micky Moonshine just happened to glance out of the window and
froze. "Shit!"
"What?"
"We are being approached by a cylon fighter squadron, sir!!…"

* * *

The explosions were getting worse. Aeon knew there wouldn't be more than a
couple of centons left to fight. The fire had already blocked most of the
ways to the door and the screams had become more and more despairing,
hopeless.

"Are you all right? Hey!…"

Lomas realized the blur was still beside him, slapping his cheeks trying to
force him to think straight.
Lomas couldn't tell if it was the same blur as previously or not. Probably
it was.

God it was hard to breathe in of all that smoke and smell of death. The
smoke burned the eyes too, making it hard to keep them open.
Lomas tried to lift his head. The smoke made him cough.

"Who are you?… What's…"

"Can you walk?" Aeon had already taken a hold of Lomas by under his
shoulders, trying to help him up. It was useless. Aeon wasn't strong enough.
He frowned.

"Come on!" Aeon panted. "You need to help me! You need to get out of here!"

"What's going on?" Lomas tried to look around to spot Astral somewhere.
"where is…"
"No time to explain." Aeon wiped his forehead. It was getting hellishly hot
in that chamber. "You need to get off the Scorpion or you are going to die…"
"Where's Astral?… Where?…"
"Your friend is waiting by the door. I tried to help him escape but the damn
fool refused to leave without you…"
"Astral?!" Lomas' heart rejoiced. Now he had every reason to obey this
strange blur and fight his way out of this chaos.
He clenched his teeth together and forced himself up, assisted by the blur,
and together they started towards the flames.
"Here, take this!" Aeon handed Lomas a piece of cloth. "Put this on your
face! Come…"
Akhael's cape was on fire. His hair was on fire and his face looked like
charred pork.
Still he was able to move. Still he kept fighting his way towards the
doorway, cursing out load, pushing every person who happened to be nearby
out of his way.

Akhael saw Lomas slipping away from his reach, surviving flames, becoming
more and more obscured by the clouds of smoke.

Unacceptable!

Akhael couldn't give in. He didn't hesitate when the fire cought his arms
and legs, broke into his lungs and made them explode.

Akhael fell to the floor and his screams started slowly fading as the
remains of his body continued to burn to the embers.

Lomas and Aeon kept fighting their way to the door. Lomas could already see
a figure of someone standing there, waiting…
Astral. Lomas' heart sang.

Other, more violent explosions contined to shudder the ship. The walls of
the chamber of Orion started falling apart, pieces of metal crashing on the
floor.

Someone with his head on fire, stumbled right in front of Lomas, shrieking
like an animal being slaughtered.
Lomas only just avoided the hungry clutches of that fire by taking a dodge
sidewards.

No time for a breather. Mercilessly Aeon forced Lomas to keep stumbling
forward.
The way from the podium to the door couldn't have been more than a few
metrons but it felt like hectares.
Lomas was feeling all strength from his legs disappearing but he had to get
to the door.

Aeon was cluthing to Lomas' arm as they forced their way through the inferno
of death.

Someone was approaching through the smoke. Something, who was slowly forming
into a young, pretty face.
It wasn't Astral. It was another face that Lomas remembered so well.
His heart broke.

Lomas halted and tore his arm away from Aeon's grip.
Forlorn, he stared at the dirty, soot-covered face of Cree, then let his sad
eyes linger on the boy's torn clothes and the blood on his arm.

This Cree looked different than the former visions, but Lomas knew it was
still only the sickness of his mind.
Cree wasn't here, he was in Lomas' heart and therefore brought to life by
the dark rivers of his insanity.

So hard, so desperately had Lomas tried to become free. Fought to escape the
world of fear and hatred.
How filled with joy had he been at those rainbow moments when the dark
seemed to stand aside and gave way to hope.
Lomas knew now that the dark would never leave.

Lomas turned his despaired eyes away. The cold inside his hear made him
shiver regardless of the oppressive, sweltering heat.
The flames all around had become more furious, silencing screams, distroying
everything that was left of the chamber.
Aeon knew Lomas and the others would have to get out now or they would be
dead in microns. Lomas didn't give a damn.
Indifferently Lomas watched how Aeon's mouth was forming words and how the
look on the beautiful man's face suggested that he was screaming furiously,
obviously trying to drum some sense into Lomas' thick skull.
Lomas didn't hear a thing.

Cree, or rather, the sickness in Lomas' head seemed to be panicking too.
Babbling something red-faced and staring at Lomas. At this very moment Lomas
hated himself more than he had ever done before.
He turned and dived towards the flames.

* * *

The fire hadn't made its way to the launching bay yet.
The entrance door banged open and Starbuck rush in, Boomer right on his
tail, both men instantly eyeing around the bay trying to spot Apollo.

"He's not here yet." Starbuck's heart missed a beat. "If he's not here in
two centons I'm going back to look for him!"

"Calm down, Starbuck." Boomer was worried too but he didn't want to make
Starbuck even more frantic by showing it.
"I'm sure he'll be here any micron."
"He'd better be!!" Starbuck's face had turned pale as snow but he tried to
act calm. Yeah, of course Apollo would return. Apollo was a hero.

Boomer's eyes lingered on the vipers. Shit."
"What?"
Boomer smiled darkly. "If I were you I'd be a hell of a lot more worried
about something else than Apollo…"
Starbuck's head turned. "What?? What??"
"It's a friggin' storm out there!" Boomer's eyes turned away from the vipers
and met Starbuck's. "Hell, we'll be lucky if we survive even two centons
after launch in those little vipers!"
"Frack." Starbuck realized that too and was now staring at Boomer with
furrowed eyebrows.
"We are fracking prisoners in a sinking ship!…"
"I never thought I'd have to admit this to you, Starbuck…" Boomer sighed.
"But this time, it sure looks like you're right buddy."

* * *

"LOMAS! NOOOO!!" Someone grabbed a strong hold of Lomas' tunic sleeve just
before he was devoured by the fire.
Someone with frightened white eyes and sandy hair covered in soot.

Trembling from the horrible scare Lomas had given him, Cree pulled Lomas
into a tight embrace, mumbling panicked babble into his ear and not letting
go now matter how much Lomas tried to fight back.

"Lomas, please!!…" Cree croaked. "Don't do this! Please, we have to get out
of this place…"
"You are not here!" Lomas kept struggling back. He was getting so weary of
all the nightmares. "You are not here Cree! It's me! I'm a monster…"
"No you are not!" Cree fought back tears and pressed Lomas tighter against
his body.
"I'll never be free from the darkness…." Lomas felt such immense despair. "I
can never change… I can… never be worth being loved…"
"Please don't say such stupid things." Cree felt his heart shattering. "I
love you Lomas. I always have! Why are you behaving like this?!…"
"I'm a monster." Lomas cried. "And I'll always be… "
Cree was helpless.
"I'll be forever tormented with the things I lost…" Lomas sobbed. "Haunted…"
"You haven't lost me Lomas!" Cree wanted to scream. "I'm right here and soon
we can become alike and be together forever!!"
"Cree is dead! He's dead!!! He's gone!!!…"
"No! I'm not dead!" Cree cried, then realized that he was. "Err… yes I am,
kind of, but…It doesn't matter…"
"Lomas." Someone said. "Remember the things you have seen tonight. Believe
in the words you have heard from the lips of the people who have returned
from death…"

Lomas lifted his despaired eyes and saw a man who was no longer reminding a
blur but a person of exquisite beauty.
Lomas had seen this man so many times before. And now he remembered…

"Cree?" Lomas turned back to gaze at the pale-faced, wide-eyed boy before
him. "Are you… Is it… Am I really free?…"
"I'm here. I'm with you." Cree smiled. "Yes, I am alive. In a different way,
yes, but I'm still alive…"
"What happened to your eyes??" Lomas stared at Cree as if he still couldn't
quite understand. "It's a long story." Cree grinned relieved. "It all began
many uncountable time units ago in a distant galaxy called Du'yraan…"
"Oh, for sagan's sake!" Aeon frowned. "Save that story for later will you!
If this had been any other story than this one, we would all be burned to
death by now. This is our last fracking chance of getting out of this
chamber!"
"No, I have to find Astral!" Lomas's eyes started lingering around
feverishly. He couldn't see shit because of the smoke."I'm not leaving
without the angel!"
"God, you're stubborn." Aeon rolled his eyes frustrated. "we have no time…"

Cree had fallen silent for a micron. He was so hard fighting against the
will of his heart.
Fighting against himself…
"I know where Astral is." Cree finally spoke. "I could take you to him…"
"He's alive?!" Lomas turned with his eyes suddenly shining like two stars.
"Where is he?…. We have to hurry!! Please show me where he is!…"

Yes, Cree's love towards Lomas had won.
Cree took Lomas' arm and led him to the half-conscious man lying on the
floor about five metrons away.
Had there not been for Cree, Astral would never have been noticed. He was
completely hidden by a veil of smoke, half buried under the remains of
Ortega, the clutches of the fire viciously reaching for him.

Aeon and Cree helped Lomas to get Astral up and supporting each other, the
four men FINALLY started towards the doorway.

* * *

"Shit! This can't be happening! This just can't…"
"Believe it, it's happening." Omega was getting very tired of Micky
Moonshine's babbling. From now on he would do his best to try to avoid
sharing a duty-shift with this officer again…ever.
"Please be quiet, I'm trying to think…"

A bright crash of light passed the Galactica, making it shudder violently.
For a little while the space all around looked unreal.
Observer Dixon's face turned pale as snow.

"They're firing at us! Oh my god, they are firing at us…"
"Yes. We noticed." Micky Moonshine snorted. "Your observing skills are just
stunning observer Dixon."
Another laser explosion shuddered the Galactica. This time, it missed the
ship by less than half a metron.
"Oh sagan I see seven more squadrons approaching…." Dixon croaked. "…and
we're defenseless for heaven's sake!"
"Mitch…" Omega turned to eye the assistant controller. "Is there any
possibility we can move towards 54 point 7 angle and go swiftly enough to
have a chance in avoiding the lasers?"
"Hell no, sir!" Mitch replied, rolling his eyes. "The storm makes it
completely impossible to do any kind of evasive movements. If we try, the
streams will tear the rest of the Galactica to pieces.
Besides, we can't really do graceful curlicues with just two ailerons!"
Yet another laser explosion lit up the the space around the ship. All men on
the bridge heard the defeaning rattle when the laser shot hit something.

"Okay! There has to be a way! What about taking the risk and move on forward
to angle 54 point 7…"
"Sir! I can just about hold the ship in the position we're in right now.
There is no way to direct the Galact…"
A laser explosion, but this time a little further away. The storm streams
were gaining strength. The Galactica was beginning to shudder
uncontrollably.

"Are you saying there is absolutely no other way than turn back." Omega's
very serious eyes were on Mitch, who met the stare single-mindedly.
"Sir, we can either be torn apart by the storm, get shot by those cylons, or
turn back to get away from the streams and take a chance in trying to
escape."
"Can't we launch vipers…?" Adama cut in. "The Silver Spar squadron is on
duty as we speak and standing-by in case of a serious situation alteration.
We can easily get those vipers into action in less than ten centons…"
"Commander. If we lauch vipers into a heliumtrioxide storm that could easily
destroy a ship as big as the Galactica. What do you think will happen if…"
"Adama." Omega looked straight into the commander's eyes. "We have to make
the dicision now."
All men fell silent.
Although they had no clue why Apollo had demanded the fleet to be led away
from Du'yraan, everyone present realized that the request had not been given
light-heartedly.
Apollo had had a good reason for his actions and whatever they were to do
now would either support or destroy those actions.

Actually. Whatever they would decide to do would turn out to be desastrous
to Apollo's plans.
There was only one way the people of the fleet would survive alive.

Omega took a deep sigh and then turned to look at the assisting navigation
controller.

"Mitch, bring the thrusters to position reverse and pull down equalizers C
and G."
"Sir?"
Omega gave Mitch a vague smile. A resigned one.
"Prepair for a full U-turn, officer. We are returning to the sphere of
Orion…"

* * *

"Where the frack is Apollo??" Starbuck was by now fallen completely frantic.
He was pacing back and fourth around the vipers so furiously that Boomer was
beginning to doubt he would leave a track the size of capricorn canyon.
"I'm sure he will be here in just a couple of microns. Stop worrying! Apollo
always survives everything. He's the fleet hero. Calm down!
"Am I the only one who remembers that there was one situation where Apollo
got shot by count Iblis and died!!…"
"Yeah, but he was taken to the ship of lights and brought back to life. As I
said, he survives everything."
"Shit! I just came to think of something!" Starbuck suddenly stopped pacing.
"All these crazies on the Scorpion…Aeon's story about death being chaos and
all… How come Apollo's way of being didn't change although was brought back
from death on the ship of lights?!?"
"I think it's merely because we weren't in the sphere of Orion back then.
Apollo wasn't brought back by any awakers but a completely different bunch
of beings. Good ones…"
"Yeah, that must be it. But I'm telling you Boomer…" Starbuck once again
continued pacing.
"If Apollo isn't back in 30 centons I'm going in search of him! I don't give
a damn about the fire!…"
Apollo opened his eyes and tried to remember where he was. There was an
almost impenetrable cloud of black smoke all around, making it even
impossible to breath.

Coughing furiously Apollo shielded his nose and mouth with his hand and sat
up. His head immediately gave a piercing warning that perhaps he shouldn't
have done so.

Apollo narrowed his eyes and tried to look around. The smoke was burning his
eyes, making them water.
He noticed that he wasn't alone in this damn place.
Sire Uri was about half a metron away, coughing and cursing out load. He
noticed Apollo and gave him an extremely unpleasant grin.
What a good thing Apollo couldn't really see it in all that smoke.

"Well, hello there!" Uri grinned. "I didn't quite expect you to be up so
soon but, what the heck, welcome to the world of the conscious captain…"
"What the hell happened?"
"Oh, nothing much…"
Uri paused as he concentrated on climbing to his knees, taking support of
the wall as trying to stand up.
"…I just gave you a bit of something to make you less annoying and
considered trading you for a fun weekend with your father…"

The older man managed to get on his feet.

"…But then the ship somehow blew up and my delicious plans backfired… Can I
give you a hand with that?"

Sire Uri surprised the fracks out of Apollo for actually reaching out and
helping him up.

"… But it's never too late to try again, is it." Uri smiled. "Here. Lean
against the wall while I look for the syringe. God it's smoky in here isn't
it, but no worries. I'll try to do this as quickly as I can so we can get
out of this damn placeaaAAAAAARRRRGGHH…"
Uri's eyes buldged out of their sockets and his mouth popped open as his
face was slowly turning bright red.
Apollo had kicked sire Uri in the groin!

Not remaining there to watch the results of his heroic stunt, Apollo started
down the corridor like a lupus, hoping that he chosen to the right
direction.
Uri's whimper was following him, little by little becoming weaker until
Apollo couldn't hear it any more.
Uri had remained far behind.

Apollo could hardly see a thing in this smoke and had to hold the collar of
his jacket over his mouth and nose to be able to breathe.
The smoke was getting thicker and the flames were only a heartbeat away from
grabbing Apollo.
With a starving enthusiasm those flames were licking the walls and the
ceiling, the stream of fire continuing to slide after Apollo like a huge
snake, ready to devour him.

Apollo kept on fighting his way towards the chamber of Orion to save Aeon.

* * *

Chapter 8

Another laser shot shuddered the Galactica.
Omega wiped sweat off his forehead as he concentrated on the readings on the
control computer screen and continued giving orders to Mitch and Micky
Moonshine.

Omega couldn't allow himself to get worried about the lasers or he would
lose focus on the data. One cock-up and the streams would push the Galactica
into a plunge and tear off the remaining two ailerons.

"Sir, the cylons ships are reaching us!" Dixon's voice arose. "They are also
shooting the Aerian and the Piscean!"
"Any serious damage?"
"Not yet sir. But the sanitation ship just reported to have one shot on its
tail-shield. It's having difficulty following the Galactica, even with the
auto-navigation on…"
"Sir! The heliumtrioxide streams are decreasing!. The HG-indicator shows
that the X-quadrant level is now closer to 88,1."
"Good! Keep the direction unchanged. We'll reach level 70 in just few
microns. Prepair to use navigator F on V-level. That'll ease the alpha
particle resistance when we start doing evasive movements to avoid lasers…"
"Done, sir."
"We are now 4 hectares inside Du'yraan…" Omega span around in his chair to
inform Adama. Then he turned to glance at the assistant navigator beside
him.
"…I better inform captain Apollo about our situation. Mitch, try if you can
establish connection. Uni-coms should be working now that the streams are
fading…"
"Indeed they are sir." Mitch reported. "I just had confirmation from the
sanitation ship that they are receiving us loud and clear."
"Excuse me sir, but…" Observer Dixon stared at the radar screen puzzled.
"The cylon squadrons seem to be receding…
"That can't be! Switch on the delta-accuracy. We must be having radar
failures…"
"I'm telling you sir!" Dixon's eyes were wide. "Those squadrons are backing
off! Look out of the window!…"

* * *

Apollo realized he was lost.
He couldn't see felgercarb in the smoke and if he remembered the plan
drawing of the Scorpion correctly, there should've been a corridor turning
to the left ages ago, but there hadn't.

The shuddering of the ship had gotten weaker, almost unnoticeable now.
Apollo was speculateing that whatever storm had kept them in its clutches
for a while, had now been bypassed.
Apollo hoped that the sphere of Du'yraan had been left behind too.

Voices. And they were getting closer.

Apollo stopped to listen, ready to take a u-turn like a laser beam and rush
back to where he had come from (which would be a little harder to done than
said since the fire had already blocked out the way back) if something
unwanted appeared.
Oh sagan how hard Apollo hoped that one of those voices belonged to Aeon.

The voices were becoming louder.

A hopeful grin popped on Apollo's face. There was indeed something familiar
in one of those voices … Although…
The hopeful grin died.
Familiar, yes, but it didn't belong to Aeon. There was something disturbing
in it… something… Lomas-esque!
And right then Apollo saw him and frowned.
Lomas' too familiar figure stumbled out of the burning inferno, three other
men on his tail, all coughing and black-faced.

The captain inside Apollo take over.
Dutifully he rushed to Lomas to help him and the others to get out of the
burning chamber, but then….
Sudden unexplainable joy seized Apollo's heart when he realized that one of
the men was Aeon.

Not being able to stop himself in time, Apollo reached out and pulled Aeon
into a hug, whispering words of relief somewhere into the man's neck.
Apollo closed his eyes and wanted to believe that this hug would last
forever and ever and ever…
It didn't.
His communicator beeped.

So desperately not wanting to let go of Aeon but having to, Apollo pressed
the tiny, red button on his wrist-com and answered with his ID-code.
He listened for a moment, the expression on his face turning darker and
darker by the micron. Then he ended the connection by pressing the tiny red
button again.
Apollo looked up.

"We have to get away from the Scorpion." Apollo was trying not to look at
Aeon for he was now embarrassed about the hug.
"The plan backfired. I was just informed by bridge operations co-ordinator
Omega that the fleet has been forced to turn back Du'yraan to escape the
heliumtrioxide streams and unexpected cylon squadrons, which means we're in
deep trouble. The awaken ones that died in the fire and the explosions are
about to wake up again..."

It sounded so ridiculous Apollo would've laughed if the expression on Aeon's
face had been less serious.

"You're right. We have to leave." Aeon spoke. "I believe there are shuttles
available in the launching bay…"
"We did use most of them for evacuating the non-awaken ones…" Apollo
realized. "…but I'm sure we can find one or two."
"Let's get going then!" Lomas was urging, eyeing the fire in the chamber of
Orion over his shoulder. "Or we'll be roasted!"

Apollo looked around and noticed a fire exit right where they were standing.
Miraculously it led straight to the launching bay sector G where Starbuck
had all this time been working on the trail soon to be as large as the
Caprican Canyon.

"APOLLO!" Starbuck let out a shriek that was undoubtedly heard all the way
back on planet Kobol. "Where in the felgercarb have you been!?!!"
"I got caught in traffic." Apollo grinned as Starbuck took a dive into his
arms and embraced the poor man so tightly that he was hardly able to
breathe.
"Calm down Starbuck. I'm okay!"
"Where were you? We waited and waited…"
"I ran into our old friend sire Uri." Apollo's tone turned sarcastic. "He
sort of wanted me to be a part of his big plan…"
"What??" Starbuck raised one brow making Apollo grin amused.
"I'll tell it all to you later." He gently disengaged from Starbuck's
embrace. "Right now we have to get back to the Galactica."
"Good idea!" Boomer's voice lingered from beside to the vipers. "The storm
seems to have calmed down a little. This is a good moment to leave,
except…erm… we have a bit of a problem…"
"What?" Apollo turned to look at Boomer.
"There are no shuttles. The only means of transportation is these three
vipers or the Scorpion itself…"
"Frack. You're right!" Apollo's smile faded.
Starbuck's smile faded too, but for different reasons. He noticed that Lomas
was there behind the three other men.
What the hell was Lomas always doing in places where he didn't belong.

"Why don't we contact Omega now that the connections are working again…"
Starbuck suggested to Apollo and Boomer, trying to forget Lomas' presence.
"…and ask for a shuttle. I'm sure Giles or Jolly have nothing better to do
than to…"
"The fire will destroy the Scorpion before Giles or Jolly get here." Boomer
cut in. "Plus, we have one more problem…"
"Another?" Starbuck frowned. "Sounds to me like we already have a billion of
them."
"The fleet has turned back." Boomer continued. "The awaken ones will be
coming after us in now time. And there'll be hundreds of them…"
"Yes. I know." Apollo smiled darkly. "Omega contacted me…"
"Err…may I say something…" Aeon coughed. "That is not completely the case…"
"What do you mean?" Apollo turned to look at Aeon, still feeling a bit
embarrassed about the hug.
Aeon met his eyes, then his gaze lingered to Boomer.

"Yes, you're right lieutenant." Aeon spoke softly. "Some of those awaken
ones have returned, that's true, but most of those people died during that
centar while the Scorpion was outside Du'yraan."
Aeon paused.
"As you can probably remember, one can come back only if he has died in the
sphere of Orion or is being yearned for, and since most of those geezers
died outside Du'yraan, there ain't many of them left to want the rest of
them to return. Most of the awaken ones didn't even know each other."
"This is making my head hurt." Starbuck mumbled with a frown. "How I miss
those uncomplicated days when the only thing we had to worry about was
fleeing from the cylons or finding Earth."
Nobody paid attention to Starbuck's comment.
"What about them who are still alive and well, and want to get to planet
Orion as soon as possible. Aren't they going to try to…"
"Well, that's easy." Aeon grinned. "Let them! You don't need the Scorpion.
You will have 219 ships left"
"You forgot one important detail." Boomer raised one eyebrow. "We have no
shuttles. If the awaken ones take the Scorpion down to planet Orion, we will
have to go with them!"
"Oh shit, you're right." Starbuck realized that too. "If we can't get off
the Scorpion now, we'll
either die in the fire before the ship hits the ground or we'll be delivered
to the hands of the awakers who will then kill us and send us to some mines…
I'll say we have quite a pain in our butts here!"
"Damn!" Boomer frowned. "What are we going to do…"
"Why don't we just cram ourselves into these vipers." Starbuck eyed the
others. "Apollo, you can sit on my lap… Boomer can take Aeon… My dear
brother Lomas here used to be a corporal so he can fly a viper. I'm sure
Lomas would be more than happy to chaffeur Astral… And Cree then, well… our
friend Cree is already dead. He can survive a couple of flames. Why don't we
just take a chance with the vipers?…"
"…Oh Starbuck." Apollo let out a sigh. "Simply because the moment we launch
the vipers, they would break in half…"
"What then?…"
"I say we try to put out the fire as much as we can and fight our way to the
cockpit of the Scorpion…" Boomer eyed the other men. "…fly this damn thing
as close to the Galactica as we possibly can and then wait for the shuttle
to come and pick us up…"
There was an annoying beep.
"It's my communicator." Apollo cut in. The others fell silent and watched
the expression's on Apollo's face while he talked into the com.
After a couple of centons Apollo disconnected the call and looked at the
others.
"We have a little problem…"
"Well that's a surprise, isn't it!" Starbuck raised one brow.
"Shut up Starbuck and listen." Apollo tossed his hand. "I was just informed
by Omega that the Galactica and some other ships are in need of repairing.
The laser generators of the battlestar are destroyed. Most of the ailerons
are torn off and then there are some other minor damages caused by cylons.
Adama has ordered the ships of the fleet to descend to a level approximately
30 metrics above ground level. So it looks like we are just going to have to
follow Boomer's plan, take our chances with the fire and navigate the
Scorpion as close to the Galactica as we can.
The blue launching team is already prepairing for sending us a shuttle…"
"Great! What about the damn cylons?" Starbuck furrowed his brows. "Those
little devils are of course following us down here as we speak, and if we
stop the fleet, they will have unmoving targets in their hands…"
Apollo looked at Starbuck thoughtfully. "That's what's funny…"
"Funny?" Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "That's not quite the phrase I'd use
myself…"
"Okay. Strange is a better word since the cylons stopped following the
fleet. Their squadrons receded soon after the Galactica had turned back to
Du'yraan…"
"What?" Starbuck couldn't believe his ears.
"That's the information I got from Omega." Apollo replied, also stunned.
"But that doesn't take away all our problems. The cylons have remained
within metrics from the Du'yraan border, on standby to attack as soon as we
return..."
"But… for sagan's sake…" The expression on Starbuck's face was dumbfounded.
"I can't for the life of me understand why those cylons didn't follow us
here!? Usually those little devils are persistent as frack!!…"
"Neither can I Starbuck." Apollo replied truthfully. "…But right now we have
more important things in our hands. We have to survive this fire!"
"Why don't we start by switching on the sprinklers." Lomas suggested, eyeing
around the bay trying to find a sprinkler switch.
Everybody's eyes turned to Lomas.
"Shit. You're right." Starbuck realized, surprised as frack that Lomas had
actually made himself useful for once. "…If we find one of the main switches
we can get as many of them working as possible without too much trouble…"
"The sprinkler main switch is usually in the ship's control center." Boomer
remembered from the spacetraveller's guide to spacetravel. "…But there's
always one of the support systems placed somewhere in the launching and
landing bays…"
"Let's find it then!" Apollo was already on his way. Starbuck went after
him.
"It still doesn't fit in my head that the cylons gave up the chase so
easily. It doesn't make any sense…"
"Don't think about it Starbuck." Apollo grinned. "The universe is full of
unexplainable things…"
"Yeah…" Starbuck smiled. "But the truth is out there…"

* * *

"…4 point 69 hectares inside Du'yraan." Mitch's concentration was completely
on the data. "Cylons still retreating, radar showing rapidly growing
distance between the Galactica and the enemy squadrons. No longer visual
contact…"
"I never thought I'd actually see this day." Adama's face was definitely
stunned. "Those cylons must be growing soft."
"I'd give anything to be able to be a fly on the wall in Baltar's base ship
right now." Omega murmured with a grin, not realizing that God actually
heard his mumbles and decided to fulfill his wishes for a fraction oof a
moment…

* * *

Baltar was furiously pacing around in the throne room of his cylon base
ship.
A monotonic report from one of the cylon centurions in charge was flooding
from the Com-tex.
"You rusting pieces of felgercarb!!" Baltar cut in red-faced. "Get your
metallic butts after the Galactica or I'll come down there and kick dents in
them…"
"No Baltar." The voice of the centurion refused. "Our religion forbids any
living cylon to enter the system Du'yraan. That has been the way through
milleniums."
"You fools!" Baltar screamed into the microphone. The two cylon guards
standing in the throne room doorway pretended not to watch.
"Can't you see that the key word is LIVING damn it!! Those damn rules were
made up AGES ago! They were made for what cylons USED to be!! Not for you,
you damn idiots! You are machines for sagan's sake! MACHINES! So stop
talking felgercarb and get your UN-LIVING butts on the Galactica's tail
before I get angry!!…"
"No Baltar. Our religion forbids any cylon to enter the system Du'yraan..."
"For chrissakes!!…" Baltar fatalistically through his hands in the air.
"Aren't there any metallic braincells left in your metallic heads!!…"
"Our religion forbids…"
"All right! All right! I got the point!" Baltar rolled his eyes. "Stop
repeating that damn sentence for sagan's sake. It's driving me crazy!…"
Baltar walked back to his throne chair and remained standing beside it for a
couple of microns, thinking. Then he turned to speak to the mirophone again.
"Okay you idiot. You can congratulate yourself that it just happens to be
one of my better days, otherwise I would've turned you into ventilation
pipes!"
"By your command."
"Cut the crap and order the squadrons to continue patrolling by the Du'yraan
border. Sooner or later the Galactica has to return, and when it does, you
will destroy it to the last screw, you hear me!!…"
"By your command."

* * *

Omega stared at his hands and legs for a moment, completely ashtonished. His
eyes lingered around the command bridge as if he had just woken up a dream.
Then he looked up at Adama.
"I could've sworn…"
"What?" Adama's attention turned to Omega.
Omega didn't answer for a while. Then he shook his head with astonishment
and made up his mind.
"Nothing." He smiled. "I'm just in need of a rest, that's all. It's been
quite a duty shift."
"For all of us." Adama nodded. "But it's not quite over yet…"

* * *

The chamber of Orion looked like it had just witnessed a holocaust.
Burnt bodies lay everywhere, most of them destroyed beyond recognition.
Live ones were few. Some of them were wiping soot off there clothes, some
still lying on the ground trying to come to terms with being burned, having
died and come back to life once again.

Dimstar was one of the very few unharmed ones who never got burned or died
in the fire in the first place.
Frowning because his favourite flared trousers were a goddamn mess, Dimstar
sat up and looked around to spot anyone who would be alive.
He did. A very familiar mop of bleached hair was tottering nearby, the
Nicael underneath trying to walk with his sprained ankle.
Nicael noticed Dimstar. "Hey! Mate! Give us a hand, will ya…"
"Where's Oscar?" Dimstar kept his eyes still lingering around the chamber.
"I can't see him…"
"I think he's dead." Nicael said absently, being a hell of a lot more
concerned about himself.
"No I'm not!" An annoyed reply came somewhere from underneath Dimstar. "Get
the frack away from me so I can breathe!…"
"Oh, sorry mate." Dimstar realized he was sitting on Oscar's chest and
quickly climbed to his feet. "Alright then matey? Nothing broken?"
"I've lost my left hand!" Oscar frowned. "How can I play drums without my
left hand!!"
"With your right one." Dimstar grinned. "Hey, you need a hand to get up from
the floor…"
"Very funny." Oscar gave Dimmy a glare. "You should've chosen to make a
career as a comedian instead of a musician."
"Never ruled that possibility out in the first place." Dimstar smirked but
the smirk soon died as water burst out from the sprinklers on the ceiling.
"Shit! I hate it when my hair gets wet!" Dimstar frowned. "We better get out
of this place…"
"Good idea." Nicael grinned. "Where shall we go? There are sprinklers
everywhere."
"Let's rush to the launching bay." Dimstar was desperatly trying to cover
his hair with his hands. "From there we can probably hitch a ride to
someplace drier…"
"All right! Let's get going then…"
"Approaching level beta. Bringing the equalizers to position seven…"Mitch's
eyes didn't move from the computer screen, not for even a fraction of a
micron. "Switching control C to position 3,1…
"Reducing power of the thrusters to effiency delta sigma…" micky Moonshine
informed.
"Good. Now hold it for a while until I can turn up the alphawave
decelerator…" Omega reached for one of the eight switches in the right hand
corner of the control board and brought it down to level 3. "Okay. Check the
angular velocity…"
"It's H point alpha, sir. Reaching target position in four centons…"

Adama wasn't listening to the operations felgercarb going on around him. His
eyes were on the white planet that had once again become closer and closer
until it's shape couldn't be told by looking out of the window.
White, smooth surface, nothing else. It looked like the most uninviting
place Adama had ever come across in his time of being a battlestar
commander.
Yet it was the most intriguing…

Adama was by now very aware of what was going on.
As soon as the connections between communicators had been re-established
after the heliumtrioxide storm, Apollo had explained to Adama shortly, but
extensively enough, about what had been going on.

Having seen all kinds of stuff in his time, Adama hadn't found the story too
hard to swallow and was now keeping an open mind to anything Apollo might
come up with as a solution.
Adama had no doubt Apollo would make a fine commander one day.

Omega turned his head to take a glance at Adama, whose eyes were still on
the whiteness outside the window.
"Target position reached, commander." Omega informed. "The Galactica is 30
metrics above ground level and the fleet has assembled into official
formation."
"Good." Adama smiled without looking at the co-ordinator. "Now, why don't
you go and fetch yourself a nice cup of coffee while I'm trying to make up
my mind…"
"About what?" Omega's eyes were on the old commander.
"Whether to send patrols down to that planet, or not…"
"You can't be serious!" Tigh, who had returned from the turboflush a little
while ago and was now feeling a heck of a lot better, turned to eye Adama
with disbelief.
"You can't send patrols into that place. Not after what Apollo has told us…"
"Don't you see, Tigh…" Adama smiled vaguely at the planet outside. "That
planet could be the answer to everything we have ever wanted to know about
the universe and the human race…"

Adama turned. His eyes were shining in a way that disturbed Tigh.

"What if those awakers really are sagans, Tigh. What if…"
He couldn't continue.
Turning back to gaze at the white planet, Adama had already made up his
mind…

* * *

"You look like a drowned rat, Boomer." Starbuck couldn't help himself from
laughing. "You all do!"
"Well how about that." Boomer wasn't finding this situation very funny. The
water from the sprinklers had made them all soaking wet, causing their
clothes to stick onto their skin.

There were puddles the size of oceans on the lauching bay floor, making it
dangerously slippery.

"Starbuck, let's get on our way to the control center." Apollo, who had no
time to worry about being wet was already stroding off towards the main
exit. "Once we're there, we can direct the Scorpion as close to the
Galactica as we can. The shuttle…"
"Hang on a centon." Starbuck just realized something. "There is no need to
take the Scorpion anywhere. The fire is being extinguished by the
sprinklers. We now have more than plenty of time to wait for the shuttle to
come here and rescue us."
"You have a point." Apollo halted and turned. "But what about the awaken
ones that'll come after us?"
"Those geezers want to land on the Orion, right?" Starbuck grinned. "Why
don't we just take them there…"
"…Because if they find us, they'll kill us first."
"Why would they want to kill you?" Cree spoke for the first time. "I'm one
of the awaken ones and I have no desire to do so. So why would they?"
"All of them are not like you." Boomer found this situation of having a
conversation with a living dead person quite uncomfortable. "There's sire
Uri for example who…"
"Cut it out! Stop it! Please!" Starbuck couldn't take it any longer. Please,
let's not think about anything. You…" Starbuck nodded towards Aeon, Lomas,
Astral and Cree. "You guys stay here and find a place to hide while Apollo,
Boomer and I get our butts to the control center and take this damn ship
down to Orion as fast as we can.
Once we've landed there, the awaken ones will have better things to do than
chase us around, and since the Galactica will soon be, or already is only
about 30 metrics above ground level, they can send a shuttle down there on
the planet to wait for Lomas and all you others and take you back to the
battlestar.
Boomer, Apollo and me, we'll fly back to the Galactica in our vipers as soon
as the Scorpion has landed."
"But…What about the so-called awakers." Boomer came to think about
something. "Shouldn't we be a little worried about them. I mean… like Aeon
has told us earlier, if the awakers already are aware of our whereabouts,
won't they be able to somehow kill us and…"
No." Aeon replied. "The awakers cannot use any psychokinetic powers to do
any killing, they're not that powerful. Their strange powers are only
limited to bringing the object back to life."
"For heaven's sake!" Starbuck would've given his eternal soul for a glass of
ambrosa. "Can't we please stop talking about this!"
"…The legend holds a deal." Aeon continued. "The people who are killed by
other people before being delivered to the awakers are supposed to have
better eternal life than the ones that are killed by the awakers themselves.
That's the reason why commander Akhael committed suicide once I had
fulfilled my destiny as the chosen one and brought the fleet to the sphere
of Orion…"
"You daggit." Starbuck frowned, half jokingly, half annoyed. "So this is all
your fault…"
Boomer gave Starbuck a warning glare.
"But…" Apollo stared at Aeon. "When we talked on the library ship, you said
that the fleet wouldn't have been able to escape the awakers, right? So
what's wrong with this picture now?…"
"I said that the fleet wouldn't have been able to escape the mercenaries…"
Aeon explained. "…That us humans were lucky that the cylons came first
because the cylons are more stupid…"
"no, no, no, no, no…" Apollo frowned. "That was not what I was talking
about."
"What then?" Aeon raised one eyebrow.
"You told me that if our ships land on planet Orion, we wouldn't be able to
leave again!"
"Oh, that." Aeon understood. "Yes. I was telling you the truth."
"I'm getting bloody confused here." Starbuck murmured.
"Then…HOW?" Apollo shrugged. "If the awakers are not all-powerful, why for
sagan's sake couldn't we have been able to take off from the planet…"
"Simple." Aeon smiled. "If the legend had been fulfilled the way it
should've been…
"Yes?"
Then we wouldn't have interrupted, the Scorpion would never have left the
system Du'yraan unexpectedly, all the awaken ones would still be alive and
returned to their home ships after the fathering to take control of them.
The awaken ones would have forced all ships down to Orion and then destroyed
each and every one of them. Us, the still normally alive ones wouldn't have
had any means of escaping. The awakers would've gotten us all in the end…"
"How do we know you were never killed?" Lomas suddenly asked, causing Boomer
to take another look at Aeon. A scrutinizing look.
"I'm very much alive in the normal way." Aeon replied calmly. "It is the way
of the legend."
"But…"
"STOP! Just… STOP!!" Starbuck started rubbing his temples with his fingers.
He couldn't take this any more.
"Can't we please just take this damn ship to Orion, get rid of the awaken
ones that are still left, prepair the damages of the ships of the fleet as
quickly as possible, get the frack away from this damn place, shoot all the
cylons that might be waiting for us outside system Du'yraan, continue our
journey to Earth or someplace else and forget that this thing ever
happened!…"

Apollo laughed. "You're right Starbuck. We've wasted enough time already.
Let's get to control center."
"You have any idea where it is?" Boomer glanced at Apollo.
"It's on the bridge." Apollo grinned. "Where else would it be. Now let's get
going…"

* * *