If he pretended that the planet he was traversing wasn't his home world, it wasn't such a bad place, a little high on the radium charts and little sparse on vegetation that was safe for human consumption. The air was breathable compared to other rocks they had found in the universe. It wouldn't kill you, but he wouldn't recommend the place for their new colony. The problem though is this was his home world. These hills had once been his sanctuary from the pressures of school and demanding parents. Caprica had been a lush planet, one of the jewels of the twelve worlds almost rivalling Piscera and Virgon in its number of oceans, seas, lakes and forests. Now, Apollo judged it to be in its last ages before it became a dead world, devoid of habitation and perhaps even breathable atmosphere. No, it was easier to pretend he was somewhere else especially since most of the landmarks were gone. Evidence of a raging forest fire was all around him, and that didn't bode well for the objective of this hike.

When he was a young man beginning secondary school, he had decided that if he had to attend the Academy as his parents seemed to insist, he wouldn't be a warrior. He had wanted to be a protector, inspired by crime drama televid shows of the time. He knew his parents would make that face of disapproval if he had wanted to actually be an enforcer of the laws. Oh, they said they supported him no matter what he chose, but they all knew that's just what parents were supposed to say. He knew his father had strong opinions on the career trajectory of his eldest son, but Apollo had decided. He studied law books in his free time to prepare to defend the wrongfully accused and to fight for the weak.

Upon his announcement of his future profession, his father had nodded solemnly, and then had suggested a little excursion on his next visit at home. During those years leading up to the armistice, that's what they were, visits, as the war waged and diplomacy seemed to require more from his father than all out attacks. But his father had kept his word; he usually did unlike other parents Apollo knew. His father had taken both he and Zac on a hike up into these hills. Apollo had not been excited about the hike as he knew his father was using the trip to try to talk to Apollo about his educational choices, and probably lecture him about being a responsible role model. It had been a common theme around the dinner table and in his father's communications. Meanwhile Zac being several yahren's younger was free of such lectures, spending most of the hike singing Fabulon Four songs at the top of his lungs. To Apollo's annoyance his father had joined in singing about a yellow submarine over and over again, as if pretending this trip was just a normal hike.

Apollo dreaded each step as the sun began to dip in the sky. He had thought his father was just taking them camping and would use the solitude of a campfire to talk him out of his decision. That's what he thought until they came across a unique home embedded in the hillside. The owner of the place had been waiting for them, sandwiches prepared and cool fresh well water to drink.

Apollo had thought that would be the end of the excursion, a hike to meet a man his father knew, but as they enjoyed the sandwiches and the view the man discussed what he did for a living. The man's name was Peryton, and he designed weapons for the Colonial service. His home was the stuff of Apollo's dreams, dug into the hillside, a blend of functional and yet one with nature.

Peryton obviously made a good living with the profits he had earned from the Colonial Service, and Apollo began to wonder if this was a compromise his father was offering. A subtle way of giving his son permission to not go to the academy, but that perhaps he could still contribute to the war effort. It was surprising as his father was a stubborn man.

But his father had a different agenda in mind. He didn't just design weapons. Peryton waited until they were done eating before turning to Zac, a youngster entranced with space crafts and anything to do with flying, and asked if he would like to see some vipers. Of course, Zac had jumped at the chance and they followed the path down the hillside to what looked like just a slab of rock. Peryton had winked at Apollo as he pushed a remote he pulled from his pocket. The slab of rock turned out to be a door that slid up into the hillside to reveal a large hanger cut into the mountain with several vipers lined up inside. The hangar was surprisingly clean, the vipers gleaming, the floors spotless. It was like a museum as Peryton had an old Mark I viper and the predecessors to that model, an old stingray viper, one of the first capable to launch from a planet as well as from a battlestar and at least two prototypes to the Mark I, as well as two older models that predated the Sting Ray, vessels capable of being propelled from a ship in space, but not capable of launching from a planet. Peryton also had several of the current viper, the Mark II, some with different wings and armaments, but just variations on the Mark II design. Zac had raced around the ships like a kid who had eaten a whole natal day cake. Peryton had to shout at him to be careful, "Don't touch the guns, they're fully armed."

In the midst of the antiques was the craft that drew Apollo in and changed everything in his young life. There amongst the old was the newer vehicles his father's friend was working on, at least six of them in various stages of design and dismantling. There were some that were variations on the antiques, but then there was one that stood out. It was nothing like the others, a blend of raider and viper and something more. She was larger, and yet she looked sleeker than any others in the bay in her matte black to throw off scanners.

Apollo was stunned by the design. He knew looking at that vessel he had to touch her, to sit in her and one day, find the stars. As Apollo approached the craft, Peryton had followed and began to describe the vessel. His voice took on a different quality as recited her characteristics. It was as if he became the wise old story teller, weaving a tale. "We lose many pilots not to the cylons, but to the problems in space flight. A viper can only hold so much fuel, only so much air. When damaged, or separated from a flight group, a pilot is alone and his supplies are limited. But this craft can help supply some of what is needed. She has solar collectors that can convert starlight into power, filters that can reprocess air and pull in any hint of dust to convert to its basic elements to pull what is useful for a man, and discard the rest. In this baby, a man could explore the stars with no need to land. Food is all that a man would need as she can even make water with the right elements. With a starhound, a man could truly hunt for new worlds. That's why I named her that. We would hunt out places free of cylon influence and recolonize the universe, like we did in the legends of the book of the word."

Apollo swore the ship was alive and responded to his touch. She called to him like a siren. Zac of course interrupted the song in Apollo's head, asking a million questions about all the craft in the hangar, but Peryton had patiently answered each and every one. Apollo had only one question that burned in his brain, could he have a ride in her? There was room for two. But Apollo didn't dare ask for fear of being impolite and embarrassing his father. He was surprised when it was his father that asked what was most on Apollo's mind, "Peryton, could you give my sons a demonstration?"

For safety precaution, these ships were experimental after all, the boys had to suit up in full spacewalk gear, helmets and all. That somehow lent an air of adventure to the proceedings and should have been Apollo's first clue his father had set this all up as Peryton just happened to have suits available and in the right size. Apollo donned his helmet feeling for all the world like Ezekiel who searched the stars for the lost colony. He climbed into the Starhound, his father helping him with the safety harness. Adama had winked at him much like Peryton, clapped hard on his helmet and told him to have a good time.

He'd been on a spaceship before, shuttling between worlds on vacations and school trips, but this was something different. He felt his ears pop as they left the atmosphere of Caprica. He had changed his mind on his chosen career before they'd even reached the full darkness of space. The stars called to him with a song even more powerful than the ship. He had to become a viper pilot.

His father had conned him, and perhaps that was why he still took some law classes at the academy. "All that reading just to annoy the old man," Starbuck would say to him each time he caught Apollo preparing for his legal exams, "Give me a helmet and a viper, that's all the studying I need to do." It worked every time, as Apollo would put away the law books, and eventually turned away from that line of study to devote his time and attention on being a pilot.

Apollo had sat in each of the vehicles in the hangar while Peryton was giving Zac his ride in the stars. The variations in controls weren't all that different, neither were the seats themselves, and from that first encounter he learned some of the basics of flight. Altitude, pitch, roll, yaw, the concepts were all the same from vessel to vessel. It was late in the evening when his father suggested they should probably bid farewell. Peryton had walked them back to his home through an underground passageway. Zac was still asking question after question about the man's career and his vipers, but Apollo learned even more from observing the hidden hallway. Peryton had crate after crate of food and survival supplies. The man had seemed to have already decided how the war with the cylons would end.

They had camped not far from Peryton's home, and spent the night around a campfire and looking at the stars. His father talked about what it was like up there, the beauty and the tragedy of the cylon conflict. He did not sugar coat what it was like to be battling the cylons, but he became almost poetic as he talked of his yahrens as a pilot. But it was what would be beyond the war that he hoped would change their civilization, the promise of space beyond the stars they knew. "So many possibilities," his father had said as Adama's eyes met his.

Looking back on that day now as he hiked the same hills he had with his father and brother, hoping that without many of the landmarks he was still headed in the right direction, it had changed the course of many of Apollo's ideas about the future. Peryton was a brilliant man. His designs and vessels were the core of the Colonial military strategy. Yet Peryton had seen what the future held and had prepared for it. Perhaps that was why even as the Colonies and his own father prepared for peace as the day of the armistice approached, Apollo had harbored so many doubts.

That passageway full of survival supplies was also why Apollo thought of all people who would survive the destruction, it would be Peryton. He was sure Peryton had not made it to the fleet. If he had, his father would have found him and put him to work making new vipers. While Apollo wasn't sure if he would find the man himself, Peryton had the means to leave the planet in an armed vessel, but he could only take one. Apollo was sure the rest would be there, at least one and one was all they needed.

It was that certainty and a debt he owed Starbuck that had driven Apollo to head for that mountain sanctuary in the pre-dawn darkness. When Starbuck and Rene had returned, his friend had fallen into a deep slumber, a rest his body seemed to desperately need as it tried to fight off whatever bacteria had crawled into him. Rene had fallen asleep as well only to awaken a centaur or two later, retching up what looked like blood and then began coughing and having problems breathing. Max cleared up the fear that she was bleeding internally, informing them that their last meal's contents had been in a red sauce. As for her breathing, Apollo had retrieved the breathers Starbuck had thought to pack. He had considered their inclusion as pointless. It was Caprica and Rene had declared the atmosphere still breathable. But Jake thought breathers had proven to be the difference between life and death for Starbuck's new wife. As Apollo watched Rene gasp for air, he knew that Starbuck might be next as he slept far too soundly through the crisis. Apollo had not forgotten that it was his friend who had sacrificed himself in the void around Kobol so that he and Serina would remain safe. It was Apollo's turn to make the same gesture. He needed to get Starbuck one of those vipers as a wedding gift, and he needed to do it soon.

He had wanted to go alone to leave Max to help Jake keep Rene and Starbuck alive and Avery from threatening them too much, but Boomer had insisted he take Max with him. Two were safer than one, Boomer had reasoned, and he was on the mend. Starbuck was just tired and generally slept through any distractions, and Jake was capable of keeping them safe if Starbuck wasn't. Apollo was worried that Max would slow him down. Apollo had run marathons while in the academy, he could run these hills if needed. Max had insisted he was just as fit and he'd kept up for most of the journey, only flagging near the end.

It had taken most of the day, mostly due to the fact that Apollo was working off a sketchy memory and a landscape that had drastically changed. Gone were the forests, in their stead were charred remains. The Rats had spoken of fires in the hills that flushed out those who might have taken refuge there. Apollo hadn't fully grasped what that might have entailed. It was obvious now that the Cylons had scorched most of Caprica and with something more lethal than just fire. In the three yahrens, there appeared to be no sign of regrowth.

Apollo was about to concede that he may have misjudged the distance of the location when he crested a ridge he knew to be Dodona's rise. It afforded him a view into the foothills of the Delphi Mountains, a ridge he knew he, Zac and his father had crested that day shortly before coming to Peryton's home. Apollo had decided that if there was no sign of the home once he reached the top of the rise, he would send Max back while he would venture into Caprica city and find a raider. He would not go back empty handed.

At the top of the ridge, Apollo dug out the oculars and began to scan the horizon. Max pulled his out as well and Apollo divided up the terrain.

"You scan to the right, start from the top to the bottom. Look for anything that doesn't look like it should be there."

"That doesn't give me much to go on, plus we're losing the light," Max said as he began the search.

Apollo had found it interesting that when around those he felt most comfortable, such as Boomer and Starbuck, Max was a wealth of clever phrases and idioms, but on the hike, he had been uncharacteristically short and quiet. Apollo had hoped that this mission would help to bridge some of the distance between those from the Zakar and Galactica. They still had a long way to go.

"This light might be just what we need. It will help us to see anything glinting in the sun that might be man-made. Look for any cracks or fissures in the rock and then follow them." Apollo surveyed his area and noticed that the fire had burned even hotter here, etching scorch marks into the very stones of the hills. He went over the hillside to the left twice before sweeping the area in front of them. Max was right, they had only a few more centons of daylight to work with and then he'd have to fold on this gamble and work on another option.

"Whoa, I think I got something," Max whistled appreciatively. "A spot that's a little too smooth, third notch in that ridge, follow it down to that huge scorch mark. That looks like metal, am I right?"

Apollo focused his sights on the area Max pointed out. The ground bore marks of an explosion and sure enough, the debris in the heart of it was metallic.

"Move to the right, a little up and to the right. It's like a cave, only there's glass at the opening. I think I found it. Wait…Did you see that? Holy frozen frack on a frigate. Did I just see a spark?"

Apollo swept his sights to the right to see a smooth area of stone, with what appeared to be a border of rocks, arranged to look natural, but a little too well arranged for it to be an accident of nature. The setting sun bounced off the glass for just a moment, letting him barely make out the outline of the windows in the home dug into the hillside, but just for a micron. He bumped up the magnification and could see the outlines of the cave. Sure enough, there was a small spark near the top of the opening. He zoomed in even closer and saw the silver and black lines draped over the cave, thin, hard to see if you weren't looking in exactly the right spot, virtually invisible if you didn't already know it was there. He followed the wires, but they seemed to loop into a circle, surrounding the whole of the home.

Apollo nodded in admiration as he zoomed in even closer with the oculars. "He's put up a net." He explained to Max the concept of the electric net, that if you could create a field of electrical energy, you could in essence disable any Centurion or Raider. "Easy to do if you have the power and don't care about frying anything else that comes near. The man designed space craft. It would make sense he would understand electricity. But where are the solar panels?"

"Look below," Max replied, "He's got them well dispersed and hiding behind the boulders. I bet you could spot them from the air, but then again, if he's got something to coat them to block the glare, maybe not. That charred debris isn't a good sign. So how do we knock on his door without being fried ourselves?"

"Well, we do just that, knock. I doubt Cylons are that polite. Besides, I'm willing to bet he's watching us already. If he's not home, we find his power source and take it out. But the fact that net is on, is a good sign he's there."

It did not take them long to climb down the ridge, and before the sun had completely set, they were climbing up the hill to the house. Apollo easily found the slab of rock that hid the hangar and considered attempting to force open that entrance, but as he searched for the mechanisms that would open the door, a bright light came on, illuminating he and Max in a circle of whiteness. Both men drew their lasers in case they were under attack.

A voice called down, "Saw you a kilometron away. You aren't that bright, are you? You can't come in. I told you that last time."

Apollo slowly lowered his weapon and called back to the man, "Sir? Are you Peryton?"

It was a long moment before a guarded voice answered, "What if I am?"

Apollo felt awkward in the spotlight. He felt like a poor actor on an empty stage. Would the man remember a random day almost twenty yahrens ago? "Sir, we have come a long way and…"

"And you have a longer way to go back from whence you came, so turn around and keep on walking. You are not welcome here, I told you that before. You have ten microns before I open fire. I'd have done it already, but frankly, I'm tired of cleaning up the carrion."

Apollo had not considered that perhaps Avery and his men had been just as unpleasant to any other survivors they had dealings with. He thought it had just been a grudge Avery had for Colonial Warriors. Was Peryton bluffing, or had he indeed killed intruders? What kind of desperation did it take for a man like him to start killing people or, at the very least, threatening to do so?

"Peryton, sir, I was here before, but many yahrens ago. You knew my father. Commander Adama. Well he was a Colonel back then. He brought me and my brother, Zac, to meet you and you…"

A long moment of silence passed before laughter rang out echoing amongst the hills, "I gave you the ride of your life, didn't I? Apollo? Is that you? How could that be so?" There was a lull as he mulled things over, and when he spoke again, he sounded more suspicious. "By the Lords of Kobol, what are you doing back here? A little bit lost, son?"

Apollo holstered his weapon, relieved that this might go as planned. "Well sir, I was hoping to get another ride of my life."

"Since when do phantoms need a ride? You're dead. The fleet is dead. So, unless I've started seeing ghosts…"

"I am no ghost," Apollo called out, conscious of his voice echoing in the darkness. The whole planet is a ghost, he thought to himself before he continued, "I know it is hard to believe, but the Galactica survived. We fled the colonies and my father is searching for the lost colony of Earth."

"Huh…Earth you say? So, you're pappy is just as religious as he used to be. Believed in all kinds of wacky things he read in that Book, but that doesn't make you who you say you are or explain why you are here."

Apollo tried to shield his eyes, to get a look at the man, but the light was simply too bright. "I would be happy to tell you my story, but I'm not sure it should be shouted to the hills for the Cylons to overhear."

There was at least a centon of silence and Apollo tried to think of what he could say to convince the man of his identity, but it had been just one afternoon many yahrens ago. The hike he took from the cavern to here had been a gamble, the kind that Starbuck could turn to his advantage. Apollo hadn't counted on being turned away, and now after having found his objective, he wasn't going to be easily deterred. He was about to speak up when Peryton's voice called out, "Come on up, let me make sure you are who I think you are, then I'll see about letting you in. I have a thousand questions for you, the first being where are my vipers?"

The comment worried Apollo. If Peryton had lost his vessels, then Apollo would have to go with plan B, and take another hike into the city. He quickly decided he and Max would at least ask to stay the night, get some rest and strike out in the morning. It was an easy climb up to the path that led to the patio of the home that was dug into the hillside like a bowl set on its side. As they got closer, the electricity flowing through the wires that surrounded the bowl hummed and the hair rose on Apollo's head.

"Not too close or I'll turn up the juice and fry you like bug. Place your weapons slowly on the ground and kick them towards me," Peryton called out, waiting for them to do as they were told before he stepped into view. He had aged considerably since Apollo had last met him. The thinning white hair on his head and the face that was etched deeply from too much exposure to the sun and wind made Apollo realize that this time he had Starbuck's luck on his side. The man could easily have died in the last twenty yahrens, and the home sold, or the vipers could have been donated to museums prior to the Destruction.

Peryton aimed a rather menacing weapon in their direction. "Alright, you've seen me, and I've seen you. Now you give me some details so I know it's really you. What did you want to be before I took you on that ride?"

Apollo quickly assessed his situation. He did not see where the power source was for the electric net, but he could see junctures where if he was able to disrupt the flow he could shut it down and get inside. But that could take considerable time and was more life threatening a gamble than even Starbuck would take. His best odds lay in convincing the man to let them in. They didn't really have time to play twenty questions, but they also didn't have the time for either of them to die on this expedition.

"I had told my father I wanted to be a Protector. He brought me here to change my mind, and it worked." Apollo raised his hands innocuously and took a step forward so Peryton could have a better view of him. Apollo had changed since he was twelve, but if anything, he looked more like his father at that age.

"Okay, and what ship did I take you up in?"

"The newest starhound. You called it a Borzoi."

"Okay, okay, and how many did I have?"

Apollo closed his eyes seeing clearly in his mind the hangar and all she contained, "You only had one of the Borzoi, but had fourteen vipers in all, six of which were variations of the Mark II viper, four that predated the Mark I and three of the Mark I, one for each upgrade."

"Good memory, kid. Possibly better than mine at this point. Now tell me something to let me know you are Adama's kid and not someone with just a good encyclopedia on you."

Apollo searched his memory for something, anything he could use that this man might know about his father. He was at a loss as he didn't even know how his father had met Peryton or why his father would know a man who designed weapons. Apollo had met Peryton once, and while the meeting may have changed Apollo's life, his memory was of the stars and of the vessels, not of the man.

"Sir, I don't know how to convince you of who I am. I can only tell you that I have come a long way and I desperately need a viper. We came here to rescue survivors but underestimated the situation and now, we are in need of the rescue. My father still commands the Galactica, but I don't know how I can prove that to you, not from here."

He watched the man nod, then begin to shake his head. "So, some of the fleet did survive, how?"

"I was on patrol the day of the destruction and we found the attack force. We had an early warning."

"And what did Adama do about that early warning? Alert the fleet, the Colonies? Then what?" The tone wasn't accusing, more curious.

"Yes, he warned the fleet and then…" Apollo hesitated at the memory of himself standing on the bridge listening to the pleas for help from his younger brother whom he had to leave behind, and then watching Zac's death on the monitors. He had wanted his father to bark out commands calling for vengeance, but instead his father had called for their retreat. It had saved them all, but at that moment, it was not what Apollo would have done if he had been in command. He suspected the other Commanders also called out to engage and attack, but the Galactica had left the battle, slinking away. It left Apollo and many others feeling like cowards. He couldn't change that moment, and now in hindsight, would not want to even if he had the ability. His father had saved what was left of the human race. He'd had the foresight to think beyond the battle, and Apollo took in the breath to answer the man. "My father retreated from the battle as it appeared the Colonies were lost. We sent out word, collected those we could and have left this star system to save humanity."

Peryton's voice was subdued and low when he spoke, "So he took my advice. Makes him brighter than all those idiots who thought they were so fracking smart with nothing but clouds for brains." The man's voice rose. "Alright, so sing the song that ball of energy you called a brother sang that day. Over and over, I might add. And so I just did, as a matter of fact."

"It was Yellow Submarine by the Fabulon Four."

"Maybe, but that's not what I said. I told you to sing it."

"Sing it?"

"Yes, sing it."

"Why?"

"Because it amuses me and these days there is really so little that does."