Chapter Two

"Report, Colonel," Adama ordered, slightly out of breath from racing to the Bridge from the Council meeting.

"Our patrol was attacked while scanning the planet, Sir. Lieutenant Starbuck reported sighting Dynamos just before we lost communications."

"Dynamos?" Adama asked as his executive officer nodded. "Telemetry?"

Tigh inclined his head towards Omega's monitor. "On screen."

His first sight of the blue and white planet. Adama caught his breath at its beauty, as well as the stunning similarities to Earth that he had seen in some of Commander Dayton's 'movies' and documentaries. A star system with nine planets and one sun. The third planet from their star. As was this. Not for the first time since they had entered that star system, he wondered, could it be? Are we there?

Then a blue ray of light shot past Viper Two, and Adama's pulse quickened as he watched the beam widen, systematically ensnaring and disabling the Vipers. The transmission abruptly died.

"Tigh?"

"We don't know, Sir." Tigh's mouth settled into a thin line before continuing. "It was as if they simply disappeared. Spectro-analysis didn't pick up any traces of an explosion though."

"Short-range beacons?"

"Nothing," Tigh conceded. "Probably disabled with the radion waves, Commander. Currently, the energy readings from the planet's orbit are off the scale. And there are similar, but even more intense radion waves that we've detected on the surface."

"Yet, there were no such readings before our patrol began to survey the planet?" Adama clarified.

"None, Sir. At least not since we've been within scanning range. I've sent a copy of the transmission to Dr. Wilker for his input."

"What kind of effect could these radion emissions have on our pilots, should they actually make it to the surface?"

"I'm afraid that's a question better suited for Dr. Salik." Tigh replied, but his dour mien suggesting they both knew the grim reality of that issue.

Adama nodded soberly. "Who was with Starbuck?" he asked, well aware that Apollo was supposed to be pulling this patrol. However, unexpectedly, the Strike Captain had ended up in the Life Station.

"Ensign Luana, Sir."

"Dear God . . ." Adama murmured, instantly wondering how the betrothed couple had managed to be assigned to the same patrol. An image of a certain lieutenant resistant to inconvenient, but conventional rules and regulations came to mind. "Have my son report to the Bridge."

"Yes, Sir."

Adama turned, then glanced at the image of the blue and white planet on the monitor once again as he quickly looked over preliminary geotechnical surveys. "Tigh." He paused as the atmospheric conditions and composition results crossed the screen. "Ask Commander Dayton to report to the Bridge as well."

xxxxxxxxxx

The clouds flew across the sky with a speed that he had never before seen, and the ridiculous notion of a celestial stampede came to mind, as the heavenly bodies seemed to surge against one another, urging the next onward. Then the sun broke through their cover, shining on him before dropping into the horizon with a suddenness that barely gave him time to register the incredible sunset, the sky alight with a brief, burnished orange glow. Complete darkness surrounded him all too quickly, and the sky filled with stars that were so bright that he swore he should be able to reach up and pluck them out of the air. With that in mind, he raised a hand tentatively, only to realize he was still in his cockpit . He had barely tapped the canopy with his fingers, when a glow of light drew his attention and he turned his head to see the sun rising majestically once again.

He blinked as he watched it over and over, an endless cycle that could only mean one thing. What the frack was in that last fumarello you smoked, Bucko?

As he lay slumped there, he became aware of the vegetation around him sprouting up around his ship. With far more effort than it should have taken, he lifted his head and sat forward, peering through the closed canopy as a colour reminiscent of lavendula gradually encroached upon him before the sun dropped below the horizon again. Yet another sunrise brought enough light to display an endless sea of huge purple flowers, more like the purple panthelons of Empyrean, and he was enclosed somewhere within it. He paused to watch one single blossom unfurl petal by delicate petal, before withering and dying before his eyes, all in the space of microns.

Then it abruptly stopped, and time seemed to stand still.

xxxxxxxxxx

"This is an informal meeting. Please feel free to contribute any and all ideas." Adama reminded those who were gathered in his office, Colonel Tigh, Captain Apollo, Lieutenants Boomer and Sheba, Dr. Wilker, and Technician Hummer. In addition, three of the Earthmen, Commander Dayton, Lieutenant Colonel Baker and Dr. Ryan, were also present. "We have few facts and many questions, as I'm sure you're all aware from Colonel Tigh's briefing."
"Where do we start?" Ryan asked, his long, grey hair still tied back in a queue, and his clothing increasingly casual with each additional day he spent in 'retirement'.
Adama was struck by the extreme nonchalance of the man's attire. A flower-print shirt, short trousers, and sandals, the entire ensemble reportedly known on Earth in some quarters as 'beach bum' and in others, as 'granola'. In glaring contrast, next to him Dayton wore a suit of a strange cut, which was in actuality part of a reproduced U.S. Air Force uniform, cut to his specifications by a tailor on the Rising Star. Straight-legged trousers, long sleeved shirt that buttoned up the front, sleeves casually rolled up to below his elbows and neck opened up at the collar. Bit by bit, Dayton had declared, he was getting 'back to normal'.
"Can we safely get past the Dynamos and launch a rescue mission?" Apollo asked, looking to Wilker and Hummer. "Right now that's all that matters."
"We can't honestly answer that, Captain. These Dynamos responded differently than the ones we encountered at the pirate asteroid," Wilker replied.

"What did you find out from the Dynamos we retrieved from the pirate asteroid base?" Apollo asked, suddenly wondering why he had never laid eyes on that report.

"I'm embarrassed to say that we haven't figured out how to open them yet." Wilker replied with a frown. "And with something that potentially can release such immeasurable amounts of energy and be used as a weapon, I'm not about to crack them open like a nut." He shrugged, looking to Hummer.

"They're like nothing we've seen before. Even the concentrated composition analysis identifies some unknown substances. They're utterly alien to us, and still a mystery."

Wilker nodded, "It should be noted that the various wavelon spikes recorded at the pirate base do not correlate exactly with the new Dynamos."

"Yeah, those ones disabled our ships, these incinerated them!" Boomer inserted.

"We don't know that for sure, Boomer," Apollo objected, still looking battered from his 'game' with the Earthmen that morning.

"There's an interference from the energy wavelons on the surface that's acting to effectively disable our scanners when we focus them on the planet. We haven't been able to get an acceptable reading on life forms or the presence of the two missing Vipers since Starbuck and Luana went missing. All the same, I'm not giving up on them until there's some proof that they're dead"

"I wasn't suggesting that we do." Boomer let out a deep breath, his jaw set. "We have to find out what happened to them. If they're down there, and they need help . . ."

Sheba nodded beside him. "Don't forget the added possibility of radion sickness. Depending on how long they're exposed . . ." She shook her head, looking ill at the possibility.

"Yes. We understand that timing could be a factor," Tigh replied. "But first we have to be reasonably sure that the same thing—as far as the Dynamos go—isn't going to happen to the rescue party. Or any other ship that gets close to the planet."

Boomer nodded shortly, "Yes, sir."

Hummer raised a hand hesitantly. "I know this is going to sound far-fetched, but just as I have been focusing on the Dynamo as a weapon, Dr. Wilker has been focusing on it as a potential form of malleable energy."

"Malleable energy?" Dayton asked. "What the hell's that?"

xxxxxxxxxx

His eyes flickered open, and in a rush, it all came back to him. The mission, the sudden appearance of the Dynamos, the equally sudden attack, and the terrifying sensation of helplessly watching yourself being lasered out of existence. Starbuck bolted upright from where he had slumped down into his cockpit. One thought was foremost in his mind.

"Luana!"

He twisted his head sharply, spotting a Viper alongside his own, sitting in some kind of meadow covered in foliage. Within the other cockpit he could see Lu, her head slumped forward. Instantly, he tried to open the Unicom. Nothing. No response. His concern rising, he hit his canopy release, hearing a welcome click. The canopy jerked and he counted the microns impatiently as the hydraulic actuator kicked in. He pulled off his helmet, waiting for enough space to squeeze out of the fighter.

Then he was over the side, jumping to the surface, and racing to Lu's ship through thick vegetation. Or at least he would have been if the world hadn't pitched violently to the right all of a sudden. Like a drunken man, he tumbled to the ground, shaking his head and blinking his eyes, trying to fight the waves of dizziness and nausea. Apparently, that little merry-go-round ride from Hades Hole wasn't just a figment of his imagination . . . at least that's what his abrupt lack of equilibrium was telling him.
He took a slow, deep breath, steadying himself. He needed to get to Lu. Nothing else mattered. He crawled the rest of the way to the Viper, struggling through the masses of foliage, and then used the ship to pull himself upright. His vision still hazy, his fingers ran over the fighter until he found the panel he was looking for. He pulled it open, and activated the canopy release.
Handhold, foothold, a familiar path that he followed by rote. He was up and looking into the fighter long before the canopy cleared. "C'mon, c'mon," he muttered impatiently as it finally opened enough for him to lean inside. "Lu!"

"Ohhh!" she groaned, her head lolling back. "What . . . what happened?" Her voice was thick. After a micron, she looked up and recognized him. "Starbuck . . . what the Hades Hole happened. . .?"

"Easy, sweetheart," he murmured, leaning forward and removing her helmet with shaky hands. He swallowed down the lump of fear that had lodged in his throat, and looked her over carefully, still feeling his heart pounding like a tambour in his chest. Lords, too many times now he had had to wonder if he'd lost her. At times like this, he wished he'd never supported her dream of becoming a Colonial Warrior, let alone a Viper pilot. Yeah, better she was tucked away safely on the Malocchio brewing ale and curing fumarellos so he wouldn't have to worry about her. All this fretting over his ladylove was definitely bad for a guy's bio-pulse lines. But somehow he knew she probably wouldn't see it the same way . . .

"What. . ."

"You're okay," he told her, trying to sound reassuring, but dredging up a convincing smile for her was next to impossible.

Where's the game face, Bucko?

"That's funny, I don't feel . . . okay," she replied, plainly unconvinced.

"I know," he returned, pushing a tendril of hair out of her eyes, before adding, "We need to try and contact the Galactica." She raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question as he pulled on her helmet and tried to fire up the comm from the console.

"Galactica, this is Viper Three. Do you read?" He flicked the switch, but with no result. He flicked it again, his mouth tightening in a thin line as he began trying to boot up the systems. Any systems. "Galactica, this is Viper Three. Do you read? Frack!"

"No comm?" she murmured, running a hand over eyes that were refusing to focus quite right.

"No nothing. She's deader than Lord Sagan himself."

"What about yours?" Luana asked, glancing over towards his Viper.

"I didn't try to contact base . . . yet," he replied, pulling the helmet off.

"Oh."

"What?" he asked, recognizing the edge of defensiveness in his own voice. So maybe he normally would have tried to contact the Fleet first, but if it had been any number of his good friends unconscious in the other Viper he would have done the same thing. . . Wouldn't he?

"I just thought," Lu looked at him for a moment, then shook her head briefly, ". . . nothing."

"What?" Starbuck insisted.

"Well, that you would have tried it first. Contacted the Bridge and let them know that we were alive."

He blinked. "Well, I had this strange compulsion to make sure you were still alive first. So litigate me. Sire Solon's not busy right now, I hear." With that he slipped off the nose of her fighter and stormed towards his bird, shoving aside the thick stalks of dried grass.

Starbuck shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his betrothed—an ensign, still wet behind the ears—was giving him grief over not following protocol to the letter, because he had let his concern for her get in the way. He could almost hear Apollo whispering in his ear from when Starbuck had formally requested—over a glass of Empyrean ale—that Luana and Lia be put under his supervision as cadets. I have some concerns, Starbuck. I'm worried that your relationship with Luana and Lia may influence your behaviour with them.

Influence his behaviour. Of course, when Starbuck had thrown it back in Apollo's face about Serina having been his wingman at one time, the captain had relented. And after all, Starbuck had been only a friend and mentor to both young women then—though every Colonial Warrior in the Fleet seemed to have trouble believing it. Even Cassiopeia had wondered, and as it turned out, she had good reason to.

Yeah, the lieutenant felt as if he'd been under the influence of the Empyreans for some time now. Ama, Luana, Lia, the Empyrean Quorum, and numerous other players had somehow managed to turn his once carefree and orderly lifestyle—at least that was the way he remembered it—into a mockery of its former existence. Of course, meeting astronuts from Earth and finding out that Chameleon was his father had added to the drama. No wonder he was now having anxiety attacks, and crawling on hands and knees across some strange planet, desperate to find out if his betrothed was dead or alive. All too frequently, he might add. Only to have her criticize him for it, he reminded himself.

He leaned over, picking up his discarded helmet from beneath the fighter, for a tempting instant just wanting to boot it into next secton instead. He pulled it on and scaled the Viper, jumping into the cockpit and going through the same procedures all over again.

"Viper Two to Galactica, come in." Nothing. "This is Viper Two, calling the Galactica. Do you read?" Total silence, not even the hint of static or hiss.

He closed his eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath and letting it out. Whether it was the Dynamos, the after effects, or the fact that they were now marooned, he felt like pounding the mong out of his console. Instead, he pulled off his helmet, throwing it roughly to the ground, and ran a hand back through his hair.

No communications, no transportation, the Dynamos still active and part of some weird network of weaponry, it wasn't looking good for a quick rescue. He looked around briefly to see a fertile landscape covered in large purple flowers mixed with long yellow grasses, an abundance of trees and an incredibly blue lake against the backdrop of a hillside and waterfall. It appeared they were in some kind of valley. Lu was standing by her fighter, also studying their surroundings. Her skills for surviving in the wilderness probably surpassed his after all those yahrens on Empyrean. Shelter, water, protection, food . . . they both had their survival kits, their weapons . . . he could probably rig something to signal the Galactica . . . or maybe he could first manually reboot the flight computer. . .at the very least get his emergency beacon working . . .

He jerked off the control panel and got to work.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Commander?" Wilker asked, gestured towards the monitor on his desk.

"Go ahead Doctor," Adama replied, rising.

"Thank you." Wilker replied, taking the Commander's place at his desk and inputting some data. He tapped the keys again, and a graphic was displayed. "Now, we used the elevated radion signature from our recorded data at the pirate asteroid field to pinpoint the locations of the Dynamos surrounding the planet using the Galactica's scanners."

"Does this planet have a name?" Ryan asked suddenly, glancing from Dayton to Adama and back again. He leaned forward, examining the image closely.

"Uh . . . no, Dr. Ryan." Wilker inserted for them, when the two Commanders deigned to respond. Dayton was looked at his friend suspiciously. "At least not one known to us. We've only just discovered it."

"Just seems awkward to keep referring to it as 'the planet'. Can't we call it something?" Ryan suggested, getting both a nod of approval and a grunt of agreement from Baker. "Planet 'P', or something? For the sake of expediency?"

"I don't think it's really all that important, that . . ." Wilker began.

"Planet 'P' actually looks a lot like Earth," Ryan added. "Did anyone else notice that?"

"Earth?" Apollo asked, his head snapping up.

"Yeah, Earth," Ryan replied. "Early Earth. Before coffee and the morning constitutional. Mark?"

Dayton's eyes narrowed as he nodded slowly. "It does." He paused as he felt their gazes upon him. Better get used to it, Dayton, especially if Ama gets her way. "Can you sharpen up the image of that landmass, Dr. Wilker?" Wilker adjusted the image of the planet, stripping away the cloud cover, and flattening it to something that the Earthman recognized as a Mercator Projection. He studied it a few moments. "There's a theory that in an earlier geological epoch, the seven continents that now make up most of Earth's current landmass, made up one vast supercontinent, much like this one." He traced the basic outline of the landmass with one finger. "Scientists called it Pangaea. Over the years, tectonic plates—internally rigid crustal blocks of the lithosphere which move horizontally across the earth's surface relative to one another—were responsible for the gradual movement, collision and division of continents, as some of you would have seen in our Journey to Earth presentation."

"You mean that planet could be . . . Earth?" Sheba asked hesitantly.

"Not unless she's a relative baby in this space-time continuum," Ryan replied with a shake of the head before second-guessing himself and pausing to look at his friends in question.

"Isn't that possible?" Boomer asked. "After all, you said that when you went through the wormhole, that time as well as distance could have been distorted." He tried to wrap his mind around the fact that they hadn't detected any life known as Human on initial scans. So how could the Thirteenth Tribe have landed there and made the impact that had been illustrated so clearly by Dayton and his crew? It didn't make any sense. He could see the other Colonials were thinking along the same wavelength. At least they looked just as confused as he felt.

"What do you think, Dayton? Are we there yet?" Ryan asked with a grin.

"Don't make me pull this Battlestar over, Ryan." Dayton retorted, before looking to Boomer. "Hey, that whole wormhole theory is just that. A theory. Mostly discussed by men who had imbibed heavily in Asteroid Whiskey, and had only a few tenuous threads of data to build upon," Dayton reminded them. "For lack of a better explanation, we settled on the wormhole." After all, how many science fiction writers had used the same formula over the years? No explanation for the plotline? Then blame it on God, the Devil, or a wormhole. Worked for TV, anyway.

"I think there's more to it than that," Hummer nodded back towards the Scientist.

"Oh, right." Ryan murmured, realizing he had taken them off topic.

"Yes, what were you saying, Dr. Wilker?" Dayton asked.

"Well, we managed to chart the position of the Dynamos in relation to the planet . . ." he was unable to ignore Ryan's expectant glance, " . . . Planet 'P'. Now the area of 'P' is approximately 510,900,000 square kilometrons." He paused as Ryan and Baker began to snicker. Dayton stared hard at them for a moment and they contained themselves in short order. "For every 12,772,500 square kilometrons is one Dynamo in a parking orbit above the planet. The altitude is almost exactly equal to the planet's circumference, and equidistant from the others, blanketing the entire planet's surface. Obviously, this range far exceeds anything that we saw while interacting with those at the pirate asteroid."

"Interacting? He has an uncanny ability for making it sound exceedingly polite." Boomer said aside to Apollo.

"Therefore, I'm theorizing that these Dynamos are meant to be more than just sentinels for this planet," Wilker elucidated. "That the energy beams that they emit are actually meant to affect the planet's physical structure—its crust, oceans, even its atmosphere—in a formative process."

"Wait a minute. Are you suggesting that this planet is being . . ." Dayton paused as he looked at the other, "terraformed?"

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that term." Dayton briefly explained, and Wilker nodded. "Yes. What I'm suggesting is a process of planetary engineering, Commander Dayton. And the Dynamos are the guardians as well as the expeditors of the process."
"Uh, Doc, a guy's got to ask . . ." Ryan shifted from one foot to the other. "Who set this whole process in motion?"

"Exactly." Adama echoed the thought. "Who's technologically capable of such an undertaking? And the fact that the planet's atmosphere is so ideal for Human life . . ." He exchanged looks with his son.

"This science is so beyond anything that we're capable of . . ." Wilker shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I really have no idea. A great deal of this is beyond even the theoretical level, Commander."

"Where does all this leave Starbuck and Luana?" Apollo reminded them.

"There's more, Captain." Wilker admitted, punching the keys once again. "Shortly after the Lieutenant and Ensign's disappearance there was a massive surge in the energy wavelons from the Dynamos and the planet. Again, this is going to sound improbable at best," He glanced at Hummer who nodded in agreement. "The rotation of the planet in its orbital path increased substantially. It only lasted a short time, but in that relative period, days instead of centons would have elapsed on the surface. Since then, in comparison, the readings have dissipated until they have become virtually undetectable."
"Yet they're still interfering with our scanners." Apollo pointed out.

"Wait a minute, are you suggesting that Starbuck and Luana's presence somehow kicked that whole planetary engineering process into high gear?" Dayton asked. The blank stares told him that gears were not exactly common here. "Uh . . . up to a higher level of activity, Doctor Wilker."

"For a brief moment on a geological time scale. It's possible. Again, so much of this is conjecture right now." Wilker replied.

"The thing is," interjected Hummer, "a planet speeding up to this rate of rotation so quickly, then slowing down again, should have ripped the planet apart. That it didn't is quite flatly impossible."

"Yet it happened," said Sheba.

Baker sniffed. "Sounds like a Monty Python movie. Adam and Eve arrive separately by his and hers spaceships in the Garden of Eden."

"Eden?" Adama asked, his eyebrows rising.

"It's the place on Earth where the first man and woman lived after they were created by God," Dayton elaborated.

"According to the Bible," Ryan added, pointedly.

"The Book of Genesis," Dayton nodded. "Part of an ancient text known as 'The Old Testament'."

"Eden was also the name of the largest city on Kobol," Adama added. "The seat of the Lords, in fact."

"Fact?" Ryan asked, eyebrow raised.

"Fact," replied Adama. "I can show you the vid scans from our time on Kobol later."

"Interesting," Dayton nodded.

"So, Dr. Wilker, you're saying that we aren't currently detecting any further radion emissions from the Dynamos?" Apollo asked, getting back to the topic at hand. "Essentially, they're dormant?"

"That's correct. From all the data we currently have, they have shut down."

"Well, one thing we did learn the last time around, is that after they discharge their energy, they are essentially at their most vulnerable. We can blow them to Hades Hole with one shot, Commander," Sheba suggested. "Clear a path, and go in looking for Starbuck and Lu."

"The problem being that they may very well be critical to the ongoing evolution of this planet," Adama replied thoughtfully."And, as I believe Dr. Wilker has indicated, their range seems vastly increased over the last time we encountered them.

"However, they didn't attack until Starbuck and Luana picked them up on their scanners at relatively close range, Father, according to the flight data logs," Apollo returned. Briefly, he pondered using one of the smaller and lighter Wraith ships they had confiscated at the pirate asteroid. It would be more difficult to detect by scanner, however, the downfall was it was still a single-manned craft. Good for reconnaissance, but not much use for a rescue.

"I wonder . . ." Wilker mused. "Did the Dynamos attack?"

"What else would you call it?" Apollo asked.

"A planet genetically engineered and perfectly suitable for Human life, but curiously no Humans are present. Almost as if populating the planet was a final step." Wilker proposed.

"As if the entire planet, indeed the whole project, were some sort of gargantuan computer program?" asked Ryan.

"It is beginning to look like that," replied Wilker.

"I wonder if we should look for Slartibartfast's signature somewhere in Norway," Dayton muttered to Baker. The other man just rolled his eyes, and said nothing.

"And suddenly a man and a woman show up at what could be perceived as just the right time in geological development, assuming the acceleration in evolution for that brief period concluded some kind of preset objective," Adama added.

"Ah, I see. Maybe they weren't attacked, but instead they were recognized as being the primary species Planet 'P' was designed for," Dayton added. "So the computer, or whatever it is that runs the place, decided it was time to start populating the place."

"So what does all that mean?" Baker asked.

"That they could be still be alive," Tigh replied.

"And possibly breeding like bunnies," Dayton grinned.

Abruptly, the entry chime sounded.

"Enter!" Adama called out.

The door slid open to reveal Ensign Lia, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Commander, I'm sorry to interrupt," she looked around at the assembled group as she held a card in her hand that appeared quite formal in nature. "I know this isn't exactly proper procedure, Sir."

"Come in, Ensign," Adama encouraged her.

"This will be quick, Commander. I have a message from Council. She . . . they insisted I bring it to your attention right away," Lia continued, crossing the short space between them.

Adama raised his eyebrows, having a fairly good idea just who had done the insisting in this instance. "Thank you, Ensign Lia." He undid the antique-looking wax seal, and unfolded the card, that resembled an archaic letter of introduction or announcement. Within was a short note in neat, bold script that declared, They're alive. It was signed formally, Ama, daughter of Arion and Annica of the Empyrean Imperial House, Empyrean Necromancer, and Member of the Council of the Twelve. He slowly refolded the note. "I see."

"Sir?" Lia asked.

"That will be all, Ensign," Adama dismissed her, keeping his tone neutral.

She looked disappointed, and glanced for a moment at Apollo before adding, "Yes, sir." Then she turned smartly on her heel and left.

"Father?" Apollo asked, eyes going from the Commander, to the note, and then back to his father.

"A message from Ama, insisting they're alive." Adama replied, his mouth grim.

"How seriously do we take such a message?" Dayton asked. He'd heard rumours from Ryan and Baker about the Necromancer's reputed talents. It was said the woman could see both the future, and into the very hearts and souls of others. Good or evil. And since meeting a real angel named John right there on the Galactica, he was willing to believe almost anything. Almost.

"She has a fairly impressive track record," Adama admitted reluctantly as he thought back over the sectars since he had met Ama. Not only had she lifted a curse that had probably saved Starbuck's life, she had also seen to it that a second rescue party was sent to Alrin, somehow knowing that Apollo, Starbuck and Lia were in trouble, as well as insisting that Starbuck wasn't dead when they had assumed him so, mistaking the charred remains of Ensign Szabo for the lieutenant's after being caught by pirates sectars later. Added to that, the woman had an intelligence, warmth, and a personal code of ethics, that made her rise above his usual opinion of self-professed soothsayers and witches. And Bureauticians. Besides, he liked her. "We need a plan to get past those Dynamos. However, keeping in mind that I'm basing this decision on Ama's powers of prediction, I want this to be on a strictly volunteer basis. I want no misunderstanding that this could be a tactical mistake."

"What about using Baltar's Cylons and their fighter?" asked Sheba. "With no life forms to detect, maybe it could slip past the Dynamos."

"I don't think we have the kind of time it would take to get them functioning properly." Boomer inserted. "Stacking a few boxes in the science lab is one thing, but flying a Raider . . ."

"And they could never give medical aid, if needed," Dayton countered. "And if Starbuck or Luana are hurt, they're going to need a med tech. Maybe more than one, along with whatever rescue and survival equipment is deemed necessary. After all, if we're wrong, and those Dynamos do attack, even if we manage to sneak past their defences on the way down, we might have to sit tight a few days."

"It's sneaking past their defences that has me worried," Apollo added. He looked around the room, and as he expected, each warrior was nodding in agreement. Wilker looked less concerned, then again, he likely wouldn't be going.

"Commander Adama," Dayton stepped forward. "I have an idea about how we can reduce the risk that the Dynamos would be able to recognize our rescue shuttle. Perhaps it would give us some more time."

"I'm listening, Commander Dayton." Adama replied with interest.

"We use the Endeavour, Sir."