Chapter 2

Battlestar Galactica, Port Hangar Deck

Apollo drummed his fingers impatiently on the control column while he waited for the elevator to cycle. The red lights of the shaft reflected off his helmet, basking the cockpit panel in an intermittent muted red glow. The avioncs had been shut down along with the engines, and not a single light on the dashboard glowed.

He knew that somewhere Kara Thrace was going through the same process, as if she'd never exploded in a ball of fire.

And what the hell was the Spanish Inquisition? And how did she know where Earth was, just like that? There were too many questions and not enough answers. Apollo was sure that when Admiral Adama found out he'd have a heart attack. Apollo chuckled a little at the thought of that, or how Thrace would be chewed out for playing with the Old Man's nerves like that. It would be just like Starbuck to play a practical joke.

And sadly that theory was the best he could come up with.

The tug latched on to his nose gear and started forward, withdrawing the Viper from the lift shaft. The airlock doors parted to allow the fighter through, then closed to lower the next one.

The cockpit seals burst and the pressure equalized. Apollo opened the seal on his helmet and took it off as he leapt from his craft, the same one he'd flown since arriving on the ship years ago.

And sure enough, there she was. The ground crew erupted in applause as she hopped down from the ladder, her helmet under her arm.

"Back from the dead and babbling incoherent nonsense..." Apollo shook his head. "Some things never change, do they?"

Starbuck punched his arm. "Incoherent nonsense?"

"Spanish inquisition? Showing us to Earth? Or what about blowing up in a spectacular fireball?"

"Don't get jealous just because I've been to Earth and you haven't! Besides, they had some good TV shows..."

"How the frak is that possible?"

The conversation was interrupted by a shout from the other end of the deck. "Adama! Over here!" It was Karl Agathon, appointed CAG after Apollo resigned.

"You weren't authorized to fly that plane!" Agathon barked. He was silenced when he saw Starbuck. "Kara?"

"It's gonna be okay." said Starbuck. "I've been to Earth. And I'm gonna take us there."

Agathon joined the crowd in a dumbfounded silence.

Battlestar Agrippa, Commanding Officer's Quarters

"The Cylon homeworld?" Adama exclaimed. "How the frak did you pull that off?"

Greer sighed. "I almost wish you hadn't asked. As you can probably tell, we lost a few ships doing it. The Cylons first caught us deep in their territory about a month ago. It took us that long to sneak around the rear of their territory. We lost two of our ships there, the Agamemnon and the Lydia. The Hannibal was critically wounded, and we abandoned her. We're down to what you see here." He took another sip of his coffee. "We hid in the Ionian Nebula and sent the Adriatic out alone. We figured she's a fast strike ship, powerful enough to hold her own and fast enough to avoid trouble. That last gambit worked. The Cylon territory is huge."

Greer was interrupted by the door rolling apart. An officer walked in with a dispatch under his arm. He handed it to Greer. "Casualty and damage report, sir."

Greer opened it, waving the ensign away. "Not bad. We took 'em completely by surprise. Valkyrie's good, as is Agrippa. But... The Spifire's CIC was hit, and we lost the entire bridge crew."

Adama blanched. "Spitfire? Wasn't that McCafferty's ship?"

Greer put the dispatch on the table. "Not any more. MIA. Probably KIA." He slammed the table with his hand. "Shit! Now I need a new commander!"

"What about Johannson?"

"He was replaced by Colonel Alex Greane." said Greer. "You missed a few catastrophes while you were away."

"Do you..."

"I don't have anyone else, at least no one with the experience McCafferty did!" Greer took another sip, and placed his cup down. "Everyone in this battlegroup is the best at what they do. No more, no less." He sighed. "You know, it's really strange how we work."

Adama didn't know what to say. "What do you mean?"

"Death. How we react to it. Billions of people in the Colonies, and sure it's a hammer blow thinking about your family and friends, but you're strangely calm and accepting. And then you see this..." He motioned to the dispatch. "We understand death on a small scale. But anything large and it's just too big to get your head around."

"Ain't that the truth," said Adama. "But sometimes you gotta roll the hard six, and live with it."

"That's just it, Bill. I'm sick of living with it. Ever since that first battle I think of the ships I've lost, and the men I should have saved. I try to imagine what happened to them, what I've condemned them to. An eternity of nothingness? What are they going through right now?"

"You learn to live with it. Death just becomes another chance to live. We've been given a chance. We are alive when many aren't. So let's use this opportunity and survive."

"I hope you're not hoping to attack the Homeworld, are you?"

Adama shook his head. "No. I'm in favour of giving them a good sock every once in a while, but I'm not suicidal."

"What was that song we heard on the Valkyrie?" Greer asked. "The Piconese one?"

"The laughing Cylon and his dog?" Adama asked. Greer burst out in laughter.

"No, no. The other one."

"The Minstrel Boy?" Adama tried.

Greer snapped his fingers. "That one!"

"The minstrel boy to the war is gone," Adama started. "In the ranks of death you will find him,"

"His father's sword he hath girded on. And his wild harp slung behind him"

"Land of Song!" cried the warrior bard, "Tho' all the world betrays thee, One sword, at least, thy right shall guard, One faithful harp shall praise thee!"

"That brings back some memories," said Adama quietly, after a moment of silence.

"Yep. You never could sing," said Greer. "Where do we go from here?"

"We lick our wounds and recover. After that, we find Earth."

Greer shook his head. "I'll have to take your word on that. But I can't think of anywhere better to go, so I'll follow you."

"You still need a commander?" Adama asked. "I think I have just the man for you."

"Really?" said Greer. "Any command experience?"

"He was in command of the Pegasus for over a year."

Greer almost dropped his drink. "Pegasus? She survived? Where did she go?"

"She was destroyed in orbit of a planet we called New Caprica. Her crew is now onboard Galactica. I can transfer some of them over to Agrippa if you want. I'm some of them would kill to return to a Mercury-class warship."

"I'll think about it. What about Helena?"

"Admiral Cain?"

Greer nodded. "Yeah. I met her a while back. Bit harsh, but once you get to her good side she's a good person."

"She didn't make it." Adama sighed. "She was shot by a Cylon."

"One of the humanoids, right? We ran into a few of those. Scared the pants off 'em, too. They weren't expecting us." Greer scratched his forehead. "Anyway, even if Pegasus isn't around we can handle anything substantial that gets in our way. How did she survive?"

"Her computers were offline for an upgrade. She made a blind jump into space when the Cylons hit Scorpion."

"We'd already completed that upgrade." said Greer. "Agrippa was next in line after Mercury, thanks to some maneuvering by Corman." Greer lenaed closer. "So who's the guy you have in mind?"

"Admiral, there's a call on the line for Admiral Adama. It's from the Galactica XO."

"I'll get it," said Adama. He got to his feet and crossed the room to the phone. "Adama. Go."

"Admiral, we've found our next clue to Earth. And sir... It's Starbuck."

Battlestar Galactica, Port Flight Pod

"Kara!" Adama called as the hatch to the Raptor opened. Thrace stepped nimbly around it and embraced Adama.

"It's going to be alright!" said Thrace. "I've been to Earth!"

"And you know where it is?" Adama said.

"Of course. I've come back to show us there."

Adama hugged her again. "We thought you were dead."

"I still don't know what happened, but I found myself in my Viper, completely disabled, floating in orbit of a blue-green planet. It looked like Kobol, apart from-"

"Kara," Adama said. "Can't we talk about this somewhere else?"

"Oh, yeah, right." Thrace jumped off the wing of the Raptor. She turned to see another man get up from his seat on the Raptor. He was athletic, but early middle-aged. "Who's that?"

"That is Admiral Joseph Greer, of the battlestar Agrippa."

"He's in charge of the battlegroup we found?"

"Yeah," said Adama. "Let's go, the sooner we get to Earth the better."

"It's great there," Kara said. "There are humans everywhere. They have cities like on Caprica, at least the country I was in did."

"Which country were you in?"

"Canada. I crashed in what they call Nunavut. Everything after that... It's a long story."

"I'm sure," said Adama.

They made their way to the wardroom, where President Laura Roslin waited with Vice-President Thomas Zarek. Roslin stood and introduced herself to Greer. "Welcome Admiral. It's so good to have you here with us."

"I wish it were under better circumstances, but thank you anyway."

"Starbuck, if you would," said Adama.

"I crashed on the northern part of a secondary continent. It looks sort of like this..." she sketched a drawing on a napkin, showing the two continents, and where she crashed. "As you can see the world is much more like Picon and Caprica, having a varied climate and large bodies of water. I can see why they picked this planet. Anyway, unlike our planets theirs is divided up into 'countries', most of which get along but some of whom... don't.

"I landed in what they call Canada, and was picked up along with my ship. They seem to consider it advanced, but not that far ahead. The guy I talked to was confident they could have their own Vipers in a few years. I told them to wait until they'd seen the mk.VII." Starbuck laughed, but stopped when she saw the result of her joke. She quickly continued.

"I met with their leader, Prime Minister Caldwell, and an ambassador for the United States. I learned that the leader of the U.S. (that's their contraction for it) is President Gerard. They call him a 'Democrat', whatever that means, but that's the state of North America. They didn't talk to much about the country called Mexico, but then again I never asked.

"It is on North America that I believe we should colonize. The continet of Europe is very populous, and several hundred thousand people would wreak havoc on the economy. We should aim for the United States, Australia, and Canada. These countries have the best capacity for supporting our population."

The room was silent for a second. Then Zarek spoke. "One question. Where is it?"

"What?"

"Earth. Where is it?"

Starbuck looked around. "Uhh... I ran these through the nav computer. I took several star fixes while in orbit, and plugged them in. Here are the jump coordinates. Four jumps."

"Then that's it," said Adama. "Earth is finally within our grasp. Kara, give these coordinates to lieutenant Gaeta, and have him jump immediately."

"Aye, sir." said Starbuck, leaving the room at a run.

"Madam President," said Adama. "Our quest is at an end."

"Thank the gods," said Roslin, short of breath.

"What's wrong?" Greer asked.

Roslin looked a bit pale, then said "The sacred scrolls say that the leader will not live to see the promised land. I think something terrible is going to happen between here and there."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," said Adama. "Joe, let's go find your commander."

"Lead the way," said Greer as they left the wardroom, leaving behind a shaken commander-in-chief.

Battlestar Galactica, Port Flight Pod

"Lee!" Tyrol shouted. "The Admiral wants you."

"Now what?" Apollo muttered to himself. He was officially a civilian, but was helping do odd jobs around the hangar deck like he used to do as CAG. He was probably catching hell for taking his personal Viper out in a combat situation. Helo had in fact thanked him for assisting, but Adama might have other ideas.

"Yes, Admiral?" he said as Adama and another man walked up.

"Lee, this is Admiral Greer of the battlestar Agrippa. At his request I've decided to give you a chance to redeem yourself. You may rejoin the Fleet, on one condition."

"What's that?" Apollo asked, intrigued.

"You are required to take command of the strikestar Spitfire with the rank of Commander. I suggest you accept."

"But my resignation..." Apollo protested.

"I said I wouldn't have you serving under me. But Admiral Greer isn't me. And you're needed."

Apollo didn't need to think twice. "I'll do it."

Adama tossed him something. He caught it in his hands, and examined it. It was a pair of wings, but not his old ones. These were outstretched, marking seniority.

"Congratulations Commander Adama." said Greer. "Time to put your pins back on. Our shuttle departs in twenty minutes."

"I'm just going to get my things," said Apollo. He climbed the gantry two rungs at a time.

"One more thing, Bill," said Greer. "I just thought, since this is your old battlefleet, that I'd do something in return for the help you've given me."

"What's that?" Adama asked.

"The Valkyrie, Bill. She's yours, if you want her again."

I'd just like to thank everyone for all the comments and encouragement. I'm sorry it took so long, but it's summative time at school. I've got work coming out of my ears. I've got something next week, so hang tight. Any suggestions on where the story should go would be appreciated.