Felix Gaeta took a long drag on a cigarette and savored being alive. His wireless crackled slightly as he pushed the "talk" button. "Well, Admiral, it seems that crazy-ass plan of yours worked."

There came a derisive snort from the other end of the scrambled channel. "Who'd have thought?" Admiral Adama didn't seem much worse for wear after surviving Felix's 'mutiny.'

"Do you think anyone on the crew suspects what really happened?"

"I don't see how. The Galactica is a big ship. We held a few funerals, put some more pictures on the wall, but nobody seems to realize that no one they know was actually killed. Narcho and Racetrack helped us quietly get the 'casualties' cleaned up and back into the civilian fleet."

"It's good to hear it. Just out of idle curiosity, where did you get that many exploding catsup packets?"

"They can do wonderful things with algae these days. Fake blood by the gallon is only the beginning."

"Speaking of which, how's Private Jaffey? If I hadn't known for a fact that those Marines were shooting blanks, I would have sworn they killed him."

"He's fine—enjoying his new assignment. We'll miss him in the CIC, but nobody knows him down in Medical, and Doc Cottle's taken him under his wing. The kid wants to be a doctor."

"Lords know we need plenty of those. What about Chief Laird? I don't think Zarek was faking."

"He has a bad concussion, but he'll recover. He asked me to thank you; I hear that was a fine bit of acting you did to convince Zarek he was dead."

"It was good acting on all sides. It helped that Racetrack and the others were in on our sordid little scheme."

"It was good thinking on your part. Good thinking, too, on getting those re-enactors to play the 'civilian mutineers.'"

Felix took a puff on his cigarette. "It made tactical sense. When you told me what you wanted out of this little performance, I knew we'd never be able to pull it off in-house—no way that many Galactica crewmen could keep a secret. The fleet hasn't needed actors in a long time, and the troupe was more than willing to lend their skills."

"Well, be sure to thank them for me. This little farce has been more successful than I ever could have hoped."

"The President's back at work, then?"

"Working and taking her diloxin. I think she's determined to live just to spite everyone."

"And she has no idea it was all staged?"

"Not a clue."

"That's good." Gaeta paused, "Though, if I may say so, sir, it's a shame that it took something this dramatic to snap her out of her haze."

Adama hesitated. Heaviness entered his voice. "She hasn't been right since Earth, and the fleet is paying the price. I hated having to scare her like that, but it's better that she be forced to pull it together now on our terms than be shocked awake by a real crisis. Zarek was a ticking bomb waiting to go off, and there were plenty on Galactica that would consider an actual mutiny to be a viable alternative."

"You shouldn't have problems with that now."

"I should hope not. You make for a pretty powerful cautionary tale."

"Glad to be of service. I wouldn't worry about the Cylons either—believe me, they were scared shitless by the good Madame President. No offense, sir, but you have frakkin' scary taste in women."

Adama's low chuckle rolled through the wireless. "I take that as the highest compliment, Mr. Gaeta. We're pretty damn lucky she didn't nuke anything."

"Lucky? How about 'gods-touched'? When she got on the wireless, I was more than ready to make peace with my makers." The two laughed quietly for a moment—not the bitter, sarcastic snicker that had haunted them so many times since Earth. No, this was the pure laughter of comrades after a successful mission, ecstatic at just being alive. Felix sobered first. "How's Apollo doing?"

"I don't think he's ever letting me out of his sight again. He doesn't suspect anything, though, and that's a very good thing."

"You didn't tell him? He was in the firefight!"

"He never realized he was shooting blanks; Starbuck kept him pretty close, and Galactica's Cylons are very accomplished liars. It's better this way; he wouldn't understand."

"He could have compromised our entire plan."

"I know." Adama paused. "I'm glad, though, that he made it to Galactica."

Felix's face grew solemn. He drew another drag from the cigarette to steady himself. "The Quorum?"

"Yes, they're really dead."

"I'm sorry, sir. I thought I had Zarek under control, but he snuck a few of his own loyalists onto Colonial One. And, they weren't shooting blanks. I take full responsibility for their deaths."

"Don't beat yourself up, Mr. Gaeta. We knew this was a risky plan. Just think how many innocents would have died if Zarek had been able to spark a real mutiny on this ship."

"I still feel responsible."

"Zarek is responsible. And he paid the price. You did the best you could, and the Fleet appreciates your service."

Felix sighed and puffed at the cigarette. He tried to force some levity into his voice. "Well, they should. Do you realize I spent three frakkin' hours floating in space in that pressurized coffin before Racetrack's Raptor picked me up?"

"True, but with that lovely explosion of catsup on your chest, at least you didn't go hungry."

"You're very funny, you know that Admiral? People forget that about you, but you're frakkin' hilarious when you want to be. And a good actor, too. You even convinced me for a while there. 'You'll die with nothing' . . . seriously, sir, you should go professional."

The Old Man chuckled some more. "Well, we had to make it look good, didn't we, Lieutenant?"

"Indeed we did." Felix took one last pull on his smoke and crushed the butt into a fine ceramic ashtray. "Well Admiral, you've gotten the President to be President again, regained the loyalty of the crew, disposed of that nutcase Zarek, and scared the silica shit out of our new tentative allies. What do you want to do now?"

Adama laughed. "A vacation would be nice, but I have a feeling it's not in the cards. Tyrol found some significant structural damage when he was mucking around in the engine room. I've asked him to see about repairs and upgrades."

"Please, nothing that grows."

"We'll do our best, Lieutenant. How are your accommodations aboard the Rising Star?"

Felix glanced around the luxurious suite of rooms and permitted himself a small smile. "Well, it's nice to be on a ship with an elevator. And the food's not bad. Did you know they can make filet mignon out of algae?"

"I'm beginning to think I ended up on the wrong side of this mutiny."

"There's algae lobster. Algae caviar. Algae ice cream."

"Shut up, Mr. Gaeta."

Felix just grinned. After a moment, his face stilled. "We can't keep this charade up forever, can we, sir?"

Admiral Adam sighed. "It's unlikely. Sooner or later, the crew will realize you're still alive and I'll have to come clean. But for now, rest, rejuvenate, and enjoy being 'dead.'"

Felix leaned back and propped his stump on a very comfortable velvet ottoman. "I'll try, sir. 'Death' does have its perks."