Chapter 11: Rebuffed Requests

Lieutenant Draegor, New Hope's Third Watch Commander, looked over at the two young kids who'd found the scene. They were huddled together and the young woman was still shaking periodically. From what he could tell, they were lucky to be just shaking instead of scattered all over the ground like the still unidentified victim.

Draegor had four officers with large lights combing the area for body parts or clues as to what happened, and one more at guard with a Mark 4 plasma rifle. He'd seen in the log that a bovinoid-type creature had been reported in the area late last evening, but the bloody remains didn't look anything like the damage he suspected a bovinoid would be likely to inflict. He had to pull up an image of one of the beasts from the Timorala database (which was being expanded by scientists each day in case the Colonials were ever able to return to the system) to make sure that it had hoofs similar to those of bovines back in the Colonies. They appeared similar, but despite the searchers' best efforts, not a single hoofprint had been found. For a creature believed to weigh between 500 and 800 kilos, that struck Draegor as being very unusual.

"Hey, Lieutenant," called Officer Arax. "I think I may have something over here." The young man pointed to a thick patch of disturbed vegetation and the area adjacent to it, next to an unidentified body part. "See here, there's blood on these leaves, but if you press them down a bit," he said, demonstrating, "you can imagine that something stepped on it and broke some of the stems. And here, when pressed down a bit more..."

Draegor's eyes grew wide as the officer pushed it all the way to the ground and he saw what appeared to be roughly the image of a large bloody footprint, about 15 to 18 centimetrons wide by over 20 centimetrons long. "There's no way!" he exclaimed. "That's not a bovinoid."

"That's right, sir. I found a slightly better version over there but there's not as much blood so it's really difficult to see. I think we should warn people to be on the lookout for this thing. If it's the size of a shaggy bovinoid like those people reported last night-"

"Whoa! If? That's a big word. We don't know what we're dealing with, so we're not warning anybody about this until we have more information, until we know more about whatever this is, so we can warn them about the right thing. If we start spouting off about a giant creature that eats people, we'll start a panic. The little furlons on this world are doing a great deal of good for our people, so we have to know a whole lot more before we ruin that for everyone."

"But, sir, being eaten by a giant creature would ruin the furlon for people, too!"

Draegor, realizing the importance of the situation, gave the younger officer a stern look, avoiding the impulse to laugh. "Okay, when we're done here, you guys are going to start patrolling the edge of town being on the lookout for anything trying to get in. We'll get another landram out here so you'll have good spotlights. While you're doing that, I'm going back to headquarters to call Captain Rance and we'll make a decision on what to do, kicking it all the way up to Commander Adama or the Council of Twelve, if needed. For now, let's do our job and find this creature, or if we can't, let's prevent it from finding any more of us."

"Sir, but what if-"

"No more ifs, Officer Arax. That's an order."

'***

Apollo walked into the Blue Squadron operations room well before the start of First Shift to make sure he had everything covered. With Starbuck preparing for his leave over the past couple of cycles, Apollo had become increasingly aware of how much his friend and second-in-command did to help keep the squadron functioning as well as it did. He smiled at the thought since Starbuck would get to do it all when he and Sheba took their leave in a few cycles. Fortunately, with Sheba still temporarily assigned to Blue Squadron, she'd been able to help out as well.

As he approached his office, he was surprised to see Jolly sitting on a couch, slightly slumped sideways, asleep. He walked by quietly in order to avoid disturbing him any earlier than necessary; the crush of Warriors at First Shift would do that soon enough. However, when he reached the door to his office, he saw a hand written note that read, "Apollo, I need to talk with you. Jolly."

"Well, you asked for it, my friend," he said with a low voice, following with a much louder, "Hey Jolly! Wake up!"

The sleeping Warrior was instantly awake, though it took him a micron or two to get his bearings. "Oh, Apollo! Thanks." He got up, yawning, and came forward. "Can we talk? Privately?"

Apollo motioned for him to enter and have a seat. He asked about Alpha-Three Squad's status and was pleased with the good report. "Are you going to be willing to take Alpha-Four Squad when we start our next batch of Warrior trainees?"

Jolly paused for a moment before answering. "Captain, I've grown pretty close to this batch of kids over the past few sectars, and want only the best for them. But don't you think it might be better if our next group of trainees gets a different perspective? I think I could probably use some more flight time, too."

Apollo laughed. "Jolly, I had a feeling you might say that. Actually, I've already pulled the records for our next potential 'victim', though I do expect you to teach some of your signature classes, of course. Now, you needed to speak with me about something?"

Jolly nodded. "Two things actually, but they're related. First, there's an issue with one of the Alpha-Three trainees."

"Who is it and what's going on?"

"Number Four, Jostine," replied Jolly, to which Apollo's eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah, I know, we've talked about her having the potential to be the best Warrior in the squad, and possibly in all of Class Three, but since the incident a couple of sectars ago, and more particularly in the past few sectons since she's been on the planet, she's been...well, I don't know how to say it other than just 'off.' She accomplishes her tasks, generally quite easily, but her heart's just not in it."

"Really? That's disappointing and surprising. Her latest SIM scores were outstanding. She hasn't done many, but her co-piloted takefoffs and landings have been great, and her name is on the list for the first group for full Viper combat training in a few sectons. What's happening?"

"I wasn't sure, but I finally got it out of her. She's having boy trouble, but it's not like it sounds. You remember that we found out that she was seeing Ensign Walrach?"

Apollo rubbed his forehead on that. "Of course, I had to get after that young man for crossing that line, not realizing they were already dating when she joined the program. Then, when we got another junior training officer up to speed, I relieved him from that duty, just before the trainees left for Beta. I feel bad about it but it was for the best."

Jolly nodded. "Since you relieved him, she's not been able to spend any time with him during a period when she probably still needed some support after such a close call. She has it in her head now that she'll never be able to spend any time with him if she continues in training. I checked the board to see if I could prove her wrong, if we might be able to switch his leave for this period so they could spend some time together, but it won't work-"

"Yes, he's on a long range patrol and won't be back until just before her leave's over," finished Apollo.

"Exactly. So she's on furlon dwelling on it now, and I'm worried that when we get ready to leave for the polar cap for cold weather training, I may have a resignation letter in my hand rather than my potentially top trainee."

"That's not good. It sounds like I need to speak with her-"

Jolly held up his hands as he shook his head. "No, no, I'm not sure that's a good idea. You see, Jostine's seeing a double standard at work. She and her boyfriend are separated and not being allowed to spend leave together. He's even been demoted rather than her being transferred to Beta Three or Gamma Three. Meanwhile, even though it's against the stated policy," Jolly said solemnly, "another, higher profile couple serves together in the same squadron, even if it's an extended temporary assignment, and it's already a known fact that these two are planning to go on furlon together in another few cycles. To make matters worse, the guy in this couple is the person who demoted her boyfriend for doing basically the same thing..."

'***

"No, you can't use our comm system," groused the rather heavyset black-shirted Sergeant at the desk, "to contact the Galactica or anyone else for that matter. We've got a serious problem right now-ahem-trying to keep law and order in this little village-and we're not providing unnecessary services to the boyfriend of a probable murderer."

With all the whispering between the officers over the past centar or so, Starbuck could tell something was going on, something beyond the murder investigation, but so far, this was the first real word he'd heard about it. Unfortunately, that word was really nothing. He breathed out, very slowly. It wouldn't take too much effort to make the overweight little toad spill the story and eat those last few words, but the other blackshirts, however distracted they were, might be a little much for him to handle, and it would most likely make the situation even worse for Cassie. Maintaining his calm, he replied rather sarcastically, "Well, thank you for your consideration. I'll definitely remember it. And when Cassiopeia is cleared, I'll expect you to apologize to her directly."

He turned back and saw that she was still in the connected tent with Reese and two other officers, so, rather than risk trying to reenter again, he looked back at the sergeant again and said, "If she comes out, please tell her I'll be back shortly."

The desk sergeant gave a curt nod of acknowledgement, though Starbuck suspected it was just so his words that had gone in one ear would be able to more easily escape out the other ear on the other side. He was extremely discouraged as he left the station.

Looking at his watch, he realized it would be almost the start of First Shift in the Fleet, even though it was still two or three centars to sunrise on the planet. Using the light from the three moons, he started for the space port at a run, but keeping a close lookout for the missing bovinoid as he did.

'***

It was about five centons before the First Shift briefing, and Apollo had just finished reviewing new assignments for the next few cycles. The constant long range patrols were starting to wear on Warriors and machines, but fortunately the planet-side leaves were helping keep spirits up. He was looking over another report and trying to keep his mind off of the issue that Jolly had planted there when Varcan knocked on the jamb of the open door and said, "Captain Apollo, Lieutenant Starbuck is on the comm for you from Beta. He says it's an emergency."

Apollo thanked him, and activated the unit on his desk. "Starbuck, is that you? Varcan said you have an emergency. How many more cubits do you need?" he said with a laugh.

The line crackled slightly as Starbuck's voice came through. "I wish! It's real, Apollo. There's been a murder here in New Hope and Reese and the blackshirts think Cassie had something to do with it."

"What? Have you tried to convince them that she's not at fault?"

"Yeah, but it's, well, kind of complicated."

"Reese is a hot-head sometime-well, most of the time-but he tries to be a good police officer. Surely he'd listen to reason. Is there any evidence you can use to convince them that she didn't?"

"Well, they had a run-in earlier in the day, and then another one at dinner, so they're not paying much attention to me since they think I'm covering for her. It probably wouldn't be so bad, but I did sort of threaten the victim at dinner, so I think they think-"

"Starbuck, wait. You threatened the victim? And then the victim turns up dead? Might anyone have seen you do this? Maybe someone trying to pin it on you?"

"I don't know of anyone who was there who might want to frame us, but, yeah, there were at least twenty or thirty people in that corner of the restaurant who probably saw what happened."

"That's not good," said Apollo, with growing concern in his voice. "Hold on-Varcan! Start the briefing with Sheba. I'll be out shortly. Please shut the door, thanks-Now Starbuck, I'm missing the briefing so give me the short version of what happened..."

A few centons later, Apollo did a long, slow sigh. "Starbuck, I hate to say it, buddy, but it sounds like you've got another fine mess on your hands."

"Yeah, but this time, it's not my fault! Cassie's either. But I do have an idea that might help..."

'***

Baltar was helping clean up the mess hall after breakfast, showing Officer Finlay his good side once again. Baltar had been carefully cultivating the relationship, and now knew more about Finlay's sealmate and their two foster children than he had ever dreamed might be possible. Both Finlay and his wife were still haunted by the loss of their three children during the Cylon attacks or during the Exodus; from the time of the initial attack, neither parent were ever able to locate any of the teenage children. They'd finally had to make the painful decision to board the ships escaping from their city with hopes that their children were on another shuttle rather than to stay behind to try to find children that might not be there and thereby face certain death. In the end, they'd chosen to go, but no sign of the kids was ever found; almost three yahrens later, they remained tormented over their decision. They'd taken the two orphans into their family to try to help the kids and other parents who might have faced making the same decision.

"Officer Finlay, it was nice working with you again today, as always," said Baltar with a smile. "How are your sealmate and your fosters doing today?"

"Thank you, Baltar. I appreciate the help. And the family is doing pretty well, thank you."

"That's excellent," said the prisoner. "You know, I've been thinking about your family's situation with the foster kids, and it made me recall a somewhat similar situation with another family, a young couple named Danatron and his sealmate Ofelia. It's only recently come to my attention that Danatron and his wife survived the Cylon attack and made it to the Fleet. I am led to believe that they are on the Ombirran Dawn, with the couple having taken in two or three foster children following the Cylons' dastardly attacks."

"There are so many orphan children from the attacks, it's good that people like your friends have stepped up to serve as foster parents," commented Finlay. "While the fosterlings won't have their natural families any more, each one that grows up in a foster family rather than a dormitory full of orphans will at least have some family to call their own as they grow up and eventually have children of their own. Though they'll never replace our lost children, we love our little fosters as our own, and may even go through the process of doing a full adoption someday..."

Baltar was nodding. "So true. Families are quite important. I was once friends with Danatron's late parents, and remember that young man as a child when visiting the family." Trying to keep the tale he was spinning as real as possible, he reached deep into his childhood memories and borrowed from one of his favorite outdoor activities. "I even gave Danatron a Y-shot for target shooting using small beads during one of those visits and remember showing him how to use it. As far as I know, he doesn't have anyone outside his immediate family. Hmmm, I wonder..."

Finlay looked at Baltar as they finished the last of the cleanup and said, "Well, we're done, Baltar. Time to head to back to your cell."

Baltar was concerned. The officer had dropped the subject so abruptly when the cleanup was done, but the former Council member didn't feel he could bring the topic back up without raising suspicions. As they neared the cell, he was debating what to do when Finlay paused for a moment and then asked, "Baltar, have you considered contacting your friend? With families being as important as they are and his family situation the way it is, perhaps he'd like to hear from you?"

"Ohhhh, I don't know," replied Baltar with hesitation. "I guess maybe I could send him a note to see if he'd like to visit with me sometime. We could speak of his parents, and I could maybe tell him stories of when his father was his age, and perhaps he could tell 'Uncle' Baltar about his family."

Finlay was nodding, seemingly in agreement with the idea, but Baltar continued, "The only problem with this plan is that I have no way to get a message to Danatron. I suppose I could write a brief note of invitation, but I'd need someone to deliver it for me. Might that be something that you could do, to help facilitate our familial meeting, Officer Finlay?"

The blackshirt thought for a moment and then responded with a nod, "I think that might be okay. You write the note, and I'll see about getting it delivered for you."

It was all Baltar could do to keep from smirking as he replied, "You are much too kind, Officer Finlay, much too kind."

'***

As soon as the Blue Squadron briefing was over, Apollo told Varcan that he was going to the Bridge for a meeting and would be back shortly.

The bridge was a bustle of activity as always, with Tigh and Omega right in the middle of it. Apollo didn't see his father, so he guessed he was in his office or the war room just off the Bridge. He decided to stop by to see him when he was done, but first, he had to speak with the colonel.

"Apollo! What's going on?" asked Tigh when Apollo asked to speak with him. "You're not coming to beg for new Viper parts are you? The guys on the Forge Ship are telling us that they've started testing on the first batch of critical parts produced from the ores from this system and that they're hoping to have them certified soon. In fact, I was about to contact you about a meeting about it later this morning."

"Thanks, Colonel, but parts are a bit far down on my worry list this morning," replied Apollo. "Can we speak in private?"

Tigh's expression showed a level of concern equal to what Apollo was feeling, and it grew worse when Apollo filled him in on the story. Apollo concluded, "With the situation the way it is on the ground and with Reese and Starbuck never getting along all the well in the first place, we're wondering if you might be able to get Lieutenant Urdea assigned to the case. He's a very respected detective in Fleet Security, and with his Warrior background, we're sure that he'd be fair and would look at the evidence and establish the facts rather than using his position to fight with Starbuck...or worse."

"Sure, let's call Rance." Stepping to one of the vid stations, the Colonel had the operator put in a call to the Fleet Security Captain.

A few moments later, Rance's image came on the vid screen. "Colonel Tigh, what can I do for you?"

Tigh gave Rance the basics of the story, and then made his request. When he was done, Captain Rance shook his head on the viewscreen. "Sorry, Colonel, but we can't do that. Lieutenant Urdea is on assignment in the middle of the case we discussed almost two sectars ago. He's been undercover for several sectons now, and pulling him out to do this would jeporadize that case and could be dangerous for him, too. If you recall the details, I think you'll agree that the case is a lot more important than a murder in the middle of a love triangle on the planet. Therefore, Sir, I have to deny your request. There's just too much at stake for the relative payoff."

Apollo, off to the side and out of view from the vid camera, made a face showing his frustration, but Tigh was nodding to the vid while holding up a hand to Apollo out of view. "Captain, I thought this might be the case, but wanted to ask, just to be sure. Perhaps there's another option..."

'***

With Baltar back in his cell, Finlay signed out of the cellblock area and made his way back to the Prison Barge's main security office. Finding an available station, he signed in and then composed a brief message. "Subject has broken the ice with request to deliver a message to individual on O.D. Permission to accept message and forward to requested destination?"

Approximately thirty centons passed as Finlay waited, catching up on some paperwork. Finally, a response arrived. Opening it he read, "Permission to accept message is granted. Permission to forward message is DENIED; by no means are you to forward it to the requested party. Find out everything about the intended recipient; dig deep. Once you have the message and that info, contact me and we will determine how to proceed..."

'***