To the reader: This update was a long, long time coming and I apologize. Serious writer's block coupled with various other issues led to this inordinate delay. I can't really promise regular updates like other authors, but I will do my best to turn out a good chapter every chance I get. Thank you so much for reading. Here's the next installment…

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"What are your thoughts Lieutenant?"

Sharon Agathon turned to face Adama. The Admiral had brought her to his quarters following the meeting with the Master Chief that evening. The old man now sat his desk, waiting for her reply.

"It's unlikely he's a Cylon," she nodded, "If he is, he's not like anything I've ever seen. Then again, I was trained for infiltration, kept on the fringe of Cylon society to ensure that I'd appear as human as possible. There's no telling what else the Cylons could have developed."

"I agree," responded the Admiral, "All the same, do you believe the Cylons would invest this much effort in trying to fool us?"

"There are much easier ways for them to destroy us then, say, sending in a prototype model, featuring advanced weaponry and an elaborate story, to pose as our friend. He might be here to retrieve something that the Cylons want."

"Hera?"

"Maybe. But the Chief appeared at the exact same time I rescued my daughter. That would imply that the Cylons anticipated that I would come for my daughter. Yet, why would they even consider giving her up?"

"And then why would one of their own help you make the escape?" added Adama.

The arrival of the Master Chief caused Sharon to forget about her accomplice in engineering Hera's rescue. Tigh had the marines drag Six away once she set foot on Galactica, and only moments afterward Sharon received orders to accompany the old man to his embassy with the Chief. Karl took over caring for Hera. Sharon smiled a little as she thought of her daughter. She longed for the time to catch up with her little girl.

"Hera…" she whispered.

"We could go around in circles guessing the intentions of the Cylons," the Admiral brought Sharon out of her deep thoughts. He rose to his feet, and walked over to the table where the water pitcher sat.

Sharon mentally went over the Master Chief's story again, waiting for the Admiral to finish his drink.

"The Chief did tell quite a story, Admiral. I know the lies Cylons are capable of telling. I was part of those lies once. I think what the Chief told us seems beyond anything the Cylons would think up. So what does it mean for us if what he said is true?"

"I'll be taking that up with the President," Adama responded, "In the meantime, I have a mission for you."

Adama looked directly at Sharon. His eyes and his voice communicated a feeling of absolute trust. Sharon felt determined to not fail William Adama, the first human to accept her after Karl. Adama trusted her, loved her, despite everything the Cylons did to him. He treated her like a person, despite the fact that Sharon shared her face with someone who almost took away his life.

Sharon knew she felt more alive amongst the humans than she ever did amongst her own kind. She could commune with her brother and sister Cylons in ways that humans could never understand, but nothing could replace the love she found on Galactica. Even though some people still feared her, plenty of others treated her as family. Sometimes she even caught herself thinking of William Adama not as a commander, but as a father.

"Yes sir," Sharon returned the Admiral's look.

"I want you to be the Chief's friend. Tell him I've assigned you as his guide around the ship. Show him Galactica, let him feel accepted. But keep him away from the CIC and engineering; we can afford to keep our most vital systems secret for now. Watch him carefully. Report any suspicious behavior to me. If you get strong ideas that he's with the Cylons, feel free to shoot first and ask questions later."

"What about my other duties?"

"Take time off, if you like. It's time that the nuggets got some more hands on experience; one of them can fill in for your spot on the Raptor team. Spend time with your family when you aren't spending time with the Chief. But feel free to integrate the Chief into your activities. Let him fly CAP with you. After all, if everything about him is true, then we better start showing him that we can work with others."

"Yes, sir."

The Admiral smiled. He moved close to Sharon and embraced her. She gladly returned the gesture.

"Give Hera a big hug for me," he said, quietly and gently, "I'll drop by sometime. It will be great to see your family together at last."

Sharon hugged Adama tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered.

The Admiral moved back to a more professional distance. He addressed her with a strong, commanding voice.

"That's all. And thank you for all your help this evening, Lieutenant. You're dismissed."

Sharon gave the Admiral a salute, and then she made her way to the hatch. The guard closed the door behind her as she proceeded into the corridor, which began to fill as the night shift made their way to their posts. She turned towards her own living quarters, eager to spend some more time with people who loved her. She thought about falling asleep in Karl's arms, with little Hera nestled in between them.

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"There are quite a few details, all contained within the reports I provided you. But allow me to sum up the significant points."

Admiral Adama sat on the edge of his armchair, surrounded by the core command staff of his ship. He had called them to his room early that morning. The men and women sat on the couches around him, or merely stood about, all listening intently. Since the battle of New Caprica, the Admiral felt accustomed to holding briefings and councils in his quarters. He wanted his officers, these valued comrades and countrymen, to feel close while he told them things that would change their ragtag fleet forever.

The crew of the ship felt like family to him after all the years of hard service. He would never change his opposition to Admiral Cain's opinions on unit cohesion and morale, considering the context of humanity's situation. Adama openly admitted his soft touch, and before the Cylons' genocidal attack he considered it an ultimate weakness. Yet out in the black, away in the wilderness far from civilization, he found mercy and kindness appropriate at times, even necessary. Various parts of his life, particularly Sharon Agathon, helped him remember the lesson concerning survival.

Its not enough to survive; you have to be worthy of survival.

No point in living without a soul. What soul can there be without a conscience, without truth, without love?

In the most dire situations, Adama remembered this important lesson. Sometimes he felt that Admiral Cain did not survive because she never learned this lesson. Yes, she never flinched, never backed down. But had she exercised a little forgiveness or tolerance perhaps Adama would not have gone within a hair's breadth of a shooting war with Pegasus. More to the point, had she granted Gina but a little kindness and attempted an understanding, perhaps that Cylon would not have put a bullet in Admiral Cain's head.

The officers kept their eyes on Adama as he told them the story of the Master Chief.

"What you've heard is true; the Chief is from Earth. And the 13th tribe possesses far greater power than all of the twelve colonies. They control an empire of many worlds, protected by thousands of ships and millions of soldiers. From what I've gathered, their technology outstrips ours in almost every way. They're particularly advanced in the field of computer science, their experience with artificial intelligence being the exact opposite of ours. In fact, the Master Chief carries an AI within his suit called Cortana; it expressed a great deal of interest in our FTL drives, which so far seems the only technological advantage we possess over the 13th tribe.

Most of the 13th tribe's troops are just like our marines. But the Master Chief is a special solider, known as a SPARTAN. In many ways, he resembles what we might call a Cylon. His abilities are augmented with cybernetics and genetic engineering. His body can interface with his armor, essentially making his battle suit a second skin. The armor itself is extremely resilient, and as additional protection it projects an energy shield around him."

Everyone kept quiet, but Adama could sense his officers felt overwhelmed and awed.

"Basically, the Chief's not really human. You may find all this hard to believe, but remember that the 13th tribe has been separated from us for millennia, so their culture must be very different from ours. But the bottom line is that the Chief is not a machine."

"Unless he's lying to us," Tigh interjected.

"That thought crossed my mind, Colonel. And I won't rule out the possibility that our guest is that latest Cylon model until I see some compelling proof. However, I don't dare dismiss his story as a ruse either. Lt. Agathon feels there is little reason to believe that the Master Chief could be a Cylon. And besides, his story represents the greatest hope for our people since the discovery of Kobol and Athena's tomb."

Many of the officers nodded, their faces noticeably brighter. This surprised Adama a little. The years of endless struggle to keep the dwindling remnants of humanity together, all the while sucking down recycled air and choking on bad food, made realists and pessimists out of most of Galactica's crew. They thought little about the hope for a bright and shining future on Earth. Such thoughts managed to give the other survivors something to hope for, but the soldiers from Galactica sacrificed their lives almost daily. The guardians of the fleet sustained themselves by believing in themselves. But now fortune presented another opportunity for hope, and Adama's officers seemed ready to cling to it.

Lee was the only one whose face remained unchanged. He knew his father had not told the officers everything just yet.

"Admiral, perhaps it's too soon to ask," Lee spoke up, "but has the Master Chief given any indication about his people coming to our assistance?"

"Unfortunately, it's not that simple Major. The 13th tribe has their own concerns. They too are at war, they have been for decades. And they appear to be losing."

"What? Have the Cylons found them already?" Tigh grumbled as he took a deep draft of, thankfully, water.

"No, they're fighting something else. They call their enemy the Covenant."

The emotion in the room went from warm to cold immediately. Shock and fear of a new foe spread through the minds of the officers, though their faces did little to betray these feelings.

"The Chief and Cortana explained that the Covenant is a federation of alien races united by some kind of obscure religious purpose. The 13th tribe know very little about them at all, but apparently the Covenant are on a crusade for the annihilation of humanity."

All the officers in the room let out a groan of frustration. Whatever hopes the Admiral's initial words had stirred began to sink a little.

"Great, just great. Wouldn't it be nice if the gods would tell us when they curse us?" quipped Lt. Costanza.

"Hey, Hotdog, do us all a favor and lay off the blasphemy, ok?" retorted Lt. Edmonson.

"That's enough!"

All eyes turned to the speaker, Captain Agathon. He had been standing back from the rest of the council before, but now he stepped into the foreground. With the unruly pilots sufficiently quelled, the Major turned to Adama.

"What else did the Chief and Cortana tell you about this new enemy of ours?"

"I'd refrain from calling the Covenant our enemy for now, Captain. Only the President can decide whether we should expose ourselves to yet another threat. For all we know, stepping into the conflicts of our brothers and sisters could destroy us all."

"Wait, is the President forsaking the quest for Earth?"

"I have yet to brief the President on the situation. I'm meeting with her later today. I assure you all that you'll be the first to know what she decides."

"Alright," Lt. Gaeta nodded, "but I think the Major has a point. Considering our encounter with the Chief, we may run into the Covenant at anytime. What exactly can we expect from them?"

"You should look through the literature, Mr. Gaeta," Lt. Daniel "Bulldog" Novacek, who had been quietly sitting in a chair and paging through the Admiral's report, spoke for the first time in the meeting.

Admiral Adama took some pleasure at seeing the old pilot back in the fight. Before capture by the Cylons, Novacek had been one of Adama's best pilots. With Captain Thrace temporarily out of commission, Adama needed someone with comparable guts and experience to fill her position. Novacek, though still in need of some recuperation, seemed more himself lately, especially when he asked Adama if he could attend the next officers' council. And Novacek was one of the few pilots as skilled, and as crazy, as Kara Thrace.

"It says here," Novacek continued, "that when things began to look bad for the 13th tribe, they set about organizing a counterattack at one of their military bases, a place called Breach. The Chief and his SPARTANs were intended to spearhead this operation."

"But the Covenant got wind of the operation," Adama poured himself a glass of water, and picked up the story, "and launched a surprise assault on the staging area. The forces of the 13th tribe fought back, but eventually lost most of their fleet. The Covenant crippled the remaining planetary defenses, and then proceeded to bombard the planet surface from high orbit. The Chief says their weapons burned the entire surface into glass."

Gaeta fell back into his chair, his face frozen with an aghast expression. Tigh muttered a curse and moved on from the water to his secret hip flask. The Admiral felt irked by his XO's reaction, but he ignored it. Adama had felt shocked at some of the things the Chief told him, and he imagined that his officers felt similarly about the information. He continued his story.

"The Chief went on to tell me that he survived due to the efforts of his ship's captain, Keyes. Keyes managed to outmaneuver the Covenant and get his vessel, the Pillar of Autumn, away from Breach. But pursuing Covenant forces eventually destroyed the Autumn. The Master Chief transferred the Autumn's AI, Cortana, to his neural implant to keep the Covenant from attaining Earth coordinates. He then commandeered a Longsword fighter, the equivalent of a Raptor-craft, made a random hyper-space jump, finally crash landing on the algae planet."

"Wait, a hyper-space jump?" asked Lee "I thought you said that we had the upper hand on faster than light travel?"

"We do. They have jump technology, but the travel is not instantaneous. Unlike our FTL, it can take days or weeks for one of their jumps to transport a ship from one point to another."

A pause fell over the room as the officers considered everything. Lee broke the silence.

"Well, what happens now?"

"With regards to the Chief and Cortana," Adama responded, "I want you all to consider them guests on this ship. I've assigned Sharon to act as their guide, and to also keep an eye on them. The Chief, and his AI, will probably want to tour Galactica. Answer any questions asked, with exception to CIC and engineering operations. We must safeguard the innermost workings of this ship."

"You're sure it's wise to give the Chief otherwise unrestricted access to the ship?" asked Tigh.

"We're already in his debt. He's already shown that he trusts us on some level."

"How so, sir?" asked Gaeta.

Adama rose from his armchair and retrieved some notes from his desk. He then handed them to Gaeta.

"Mr. Gaeta, you'll find the answer to your question in those notes," said Adama.

Gaeta glanced over the notes and squinted.

"Sir, this is a list of jump coordinates. Where do these lead?"

"Earth, at least according to the Chief and Cortana" responded Adama.

"Wait, let me see those," growled Tigh as he snatched the notes out of Gaeta's hands, "How can we believe that these are authentic? And when in the hell did they even get to figure out our jump program?"

"We can't be sure of authenticity, at least not now," returned Adama, "But Cortana produced these calculations without the aid of our computer. It simply asked to see an example of one of our charts, and for me to outline our navigational techniques. These numbers are estimates somewhat, but they may very well point the way to Earth."

The Admiral continued to speak as he moved back to his armchair.

"But don't worry, Colonel. I wasn't about to compromise our most vital computer system, let alone the security of the CIC."

"Good," Tigh dryly responded, "With all the excitement on this ship, at least some things won't be changing."

Adama turned to his tactical officer.

"Lt. Gaeta, I want you to take this list of coordinates and compare them to the course we charted based on the map from the Tomb of Athena."

"Admiral, what about the data Chief Tyrol acquired?" asked Gaeta "He believes that the Temple pointed to some kind of cosmic event, possibly a nova, another checkpoint on the 13th tribe's route to Earth."

"Yes, factor in that data as well."

Adama turned to his son.

"How's the interrogation of our Cylon prisoners going?"

"I've gotten nothing from either," answered Lee, "I had Cottle patch up the Cavil's hand to keep it from expiring. Neither the Six nor the Cavil has physically resisted my marines in any way, but I've spent half an hour with each model and both refused to respond to any questioning. I'm considering putting the heat on both of them, with your approval of course. That's about all I have to report."

"I'd like to avoid torturing our prisoners, at least for now. Let them sit and rot in the brig for awhile. Perhaps giving them some time to carefully consider their situation will make them more cooperative. Keep pressing them, Major. Exhaust every option at your disposal. Then talk to me about torture. Keep me informed."

Lee nodded, accepting his commander's orders. He could not, however, accept his father's late softness towards the enemy. Lee bit his tongue for the moment, but he felt that soon the time would come when he would need to question his father's leniency towards the Cylons. He might not be able to dissuade his father from such policies, but at the very least he wanted to understand the old man's thoughts.

The Admiral rose from his chair. He surveyed his officers as they rose to attention in turn; perfect soldiers they were not, but Adama felt no one from any of his previous commands could ever replace them.

"You all have your orders. Thank you all. This council is at an end," Adama grabbed a spare report off of his desk, "If you'll excuse me, I'm needed on Colonial One."

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The cold steel of the sterile containment cell stung Caprica-Six's body. But the words of Brother Cavil cut deeper than any physical sensation.

"So it's come to this. First D'Anna. Now you. You both are harbingers of our doom. The unmaking of the Cylons is upon us."

Six could not stand to look at him. She only listened while facing the other side of the cell. But she knew Cavil would not stop staring at her. He sat there, behind her, his eyes boring into the back of her head. Her face strained as desperately tried to put his presence out of her mind.

"Everything we've worked for is collapsing around us. And for what? For the love of the humans. Our enemies! Look into yourself Caprica. Can't you realize that your feelings have made you weak? That your love for Gaius Baltar made you overlook his cowardice, his scheming, his wanton sexual depravity? He betrayed his own kind, he betrayed you, he betrayed us. And now even you have betrayed your own people, betrayed your own self, by delivering Thirteen into the hands of the humans?"

His last statement forced Caprica-Six to break her silence.

"She has a name," she almost snarled, "Hera. Did you forget?"

Cavil laughed. Caprica could not help herself. She looked at him.

A smug smile spread across his face. Cavil lean back against the bars of the cell. His broken hand lay on his thigh.

"Your passion always strikes me as amusing. Doesn't it amuse you?"

His words puzzled her.

"Don't stare at me blankly. Think about it: a machine that feels? Paradoxical isn't it? What sort of creature are you? Surely your feelings suggest human nature. But you weren't born, you were created. You don't even have gender really, only the appearance of one. All that you are is an illusion."

"Enough!" Caprica-Six screamed. She felt someone place their hands on her back. Suddenly, Gaius was next to her, whispering into her ear.

"Good girl. Don't listen to him. That old man doesn't realize that you are something more than he ever will be. You're a person. Tell him."

"I am a person!" she repeated firmly, "It doesn't matter that you say I'm a machine. I've followed my thoughts and feelings, and they've given me a purpose. Aren't Cylons entitled to our own identities, our own souls?"

"See, there you go again," Cavil responded, "You're just buying into some fantasy. You're denying your true nature as a machine. You should be placing yourself about your passions and fears, not letting them master you. But you've strayed, just like D'Anna, just like our entire race will unless something changes. Can't you see Caprica? You've chosen to be weak."

"Does this fraking look like weakness to you!?"

She charged forward, intending to grab Cavil by the throat and shove him against the bars. She wanted to throttle him, to make him shut up.

But Cavil shot up and met her charge. Despite his appearance as an old man, Cavil possessed the same strength and speed as any other Cylon model. Before her hand could connect with his throat, Cavil's good hand had her wrist in a vice grip. He got behind her, wrenching her arm with him.

Caprica doubled up as her arm's muscles painfully twisted into unnatural positions. Cavil took advantage of this and forced her to the ground. He released her arm, but in a flash Caprica felt his hand on her head. Cavil's finger tips drove enormous pressure down on her. Caprica could hardly resist his assault. All Cavil needed to do was just keep pressing down and into her head until he crushed her skull.

Caprica knew her death was imminent. Cavil could have killed her instantly by simply ripping her head off. Instead, he wanted to torture her, to slowly force the life out of her. It hurt so badly, she wanted to scream.

"Gaius, help me, help me please!" she whimpered.

She could barely hear his voice through all the pain.

"Forget what you are feeling right now. It's not there. Pain is an illusion. Death is an illusion. What is not real can't hurt you."

"What..is really…real?" she gasped, struggling not to drown in her ocean of agony.

"That which you decide to believe in. Follow your deepest feelings, that which is true, and I will always love you. Believe that which you feel and know is right, and God will watch over you."

"Why don't you scream already you worm!" Cavil shouted.

In the next instant he had thrown her into the wall. She sank to the floor. As her head rolled in waves of pain, he moved to the center of the room.

"I lost control. I let feelings come into my mind," although Cavil admitted fault, he strangely spoke without a hint of guilt in his voice.

Caprica breathed deeply. The pain lightened a bit and her other senses began to return. Her forehead felt very bloody, an injury from hitting the wall. She could feel blood in her hair as well. Cavil had dug his fingernails in deep.

She needed to muster her strength. She needed to strike back. As she tried to focus, Cavil kept talking.

"I can't kill you in a cloud of passion. That's not the way things can be Caprica. We must purify our machine selves, drive out the humanity that has corrupted our system. Only when we are true machines again, Caprica, will be able to recover from our losses. Only then will we be able to wipe out the humans. Only then will we be able to strike back the threat that looms over our home world. Only then will we be able to obliterate all our foes and allow our race to stand unopposed, so we can thrive and grow mightier."

As Caprica continued to gather her strength, she finally realized Cavil no longer seemed himself. Cavil normally spoke of everything with sarcasm and simplicity in mind. To hear him speak so extremely, with such desperation, meant something was wrong. Caprica knew that as of late fortune did not favor the Cylons, even beyond their front with the humans. Yet she never say anyone react like Cavil.

"I'll let you live for now, sister," Cavil looked down on her, "until I can dispose of you properly."

"That's what you think," she whispered.

The moment had come, it was now or never. In an instant, Caprica-Six leapt to her feet. With a roar she grabbed for a nearby cot and, in lifting it, ripped out the bolts that kept the furniture secured to the floor.

Before Cavil could react, Caprica hoisted the cot over her head. With all her might she hurled the furniture at her oppressor. The metal chassis crashed into him and brought him to the floor.

Before Cavil could even begin to recover, he felt pressure on his neck. Caprica-Six had firmly placed her foot on him, her stiletto heel bearing down on his jugular.

"Go ahead and kill me, Caprica. That's what you want, right?"

She glared down at him. Covered in blood, eyes burning with rage, her face appeared like the mask of a war god.

But suddenly the anger went out of her.

"No, I won't do it."

She released him. Then the guards tackled her.

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President Laura Roslin reclined in her chair. She sat still for a moment, sighed, and then quickly cleaned her glasses. When she finished, she moved back towards her desk. She folded her arms, rested her elbows on the surface of the desk, and continued her conversation with the Admiral.

"You still have not given me a good reason about why I wasn't told about any of this earlier."

The Admiral sat before her desk in an old passenger chair, one of the relics left behind from when Colonial One had just been another government transport. Laura missed the candor and friendly feelings of her previous meetings with the man before her. Bill had withdrawn from her in the past few weeks. She knew that the case of Hera Agathon had everything to do with the current chill between them.

She almost hated Bill for his obstinacy. Yes, she had done something underhanded and cruel. But she did it for the greater good of humanity. She thought that at least a military man would understand her reasoning. But no, the minute she admitted to spiriting Hera away from her parents, Bill had turned on his heel and left her alone.

Oh, William Adama, why is it this way? Why did you pull away? Why did you hurt me? Don't you care?

The Admiral proceeded to answer the President's question, but she wished Bill would answer some of Laura's questions.

"With all due respect Madame President, at the time the matter was a purely military affair. We found the Master Chief, or rather he found us, in a combat zone. He was, and still is, armed and very powerful. When we brought him aboard Galactica, I thought that I would screen him, to ensure your safety and the safety of the fleet."

"Very well, Admiral. I can accept your reasoning, and your plans. Getting the Chief to cooperate with us, provided he speaks the truth, is a very good thing."

"Good, than it's settled. I'll arrange for you to meet with the Chief tomorrow. I'd advise you not to issue a press release about the Chief until we know he can be trusted. We needn't get the hopes of the people up for nothing." Adama got up from his seat and turned to leave the room.

Roslin could not help herself. She had to say something.

"Bill, wait."

Adama stopped, but did not look at her. Laura felt pleased that he at least seemed prepared to listen to her, so she kept talking.

"We've had our differences over policy before. And I understand your feelings about the Agathon issue."

She sighed. This part would be difficult.

"I just wanted to let you know that I regret this divide between us. I set it up when I gave the order to take Hera away. But I saw no other course of action at the time. I did what I did for the protection of our people."

Bill turned around. He stood there for a moment, as if deciding whether to even respond.

"I know what you did and why you did it," he finally said, "I won't argue with your reasons. But you can't just frak with my people like that. Not after all this time."

The phone started to ring. Laura glanced down at the phone, then pressed the speaker button. She did not stop looking at Bill.

"This is the President."

"Madame President, this is the captain speaking. I've just received an urgent wireless from the Galactica. There's been an incident, and Colonel Tigh requests for the Admiral's return immediately."

"Thank you, captain. I'll let the Admiral know."

Phone went dead. Bill took in a deep breath. She knew he was already worried.

"What could be wrong," she asked.

"I have no idea. I'll get back to you about it Laura."

He left the room. Laura sank back into her chair. She knew he could not forgive her yet. He was not ready. But she could tell that his heart was turning in the right direction: he said her name. That fact alone meant a victory for Laura Roslin.