THE LOST YEARS

by Soledad

INTERLUDE: THE LOST WARRIOR

Author's note:

For disclaimer, rating, etc. see Chapter 01.

Specifications for the Colonial Shuttle are from the Battlestar Galactica Technical Manual website.

Chapter 02 – Semiramis

In a last attack of the good, old-fashioned delusion of grandeur, New Caprica City had built for itself – with the extensive help of several Federation worlds, mostly human colonies – the biggest (and, as the locals liked to boast, the best) spaceport on New Caprica. Or anywhere else in the entire Kobol-sector, for that matter.

The fact that the planet didn't actually need such a monster facility, especially considering their access to Federation transporter technology, which made it possible to beam persons and cargo directly to their destination, had been of no consideration during the planning phase. Granted, not all Colonial vessels had been equipped with transporters yet, especially not the shuttlecrafts, so that a lot of the transporting was still being done by traditional methods. Still, Omega couldn't help but shake his head in less-than-tolerant amusement at the megalomania that had resulted in the construction of a spaceport fit to deal with twenty thousand travellers at a time. Which was approximately the entire population of New Caprica right now.

And those less-than-twenty-thousand weren't even all Capricans. Many other people whose planet was still being terraformed had chosen to live on New Caprica, until their world would become more habitable. Not everyone was as stubborn as many Librans and Virgons, who were working on the shaping of their planets with their very hands, dwelling on the sorted-out Cylon basestars in the meantime.

Yet not all the travellers hurrying on their way through the main concourse of the spaceport were of Colonial origins, either – or even human, for that matter. Omega, now fairly familiar with the many member races of the Federation, could easily pick out the slim, elegant Vulcan scientists with their elfin ears; the Boray-like but extremely efficient Tellarite construction workers, without whose skills New Caprica would still look like a refugee camp; the deceivingly fragile, bald-headed Deltan pilots and navigators who served on interstellar starliners in surprisingly great numbers; or Andorian technicians, who, with their twin antennae and their stiff vests looked like oversized, pale blue insects. There were other, more human-looking races, too, that could still easily be recognized as foreigners nevertheless. Body language always revealed a great deal.

For Omega, this was a familiar sight already, having visited Federation facilities many times. But Aggie, who'd never left the planet since their arrival, was staring at the colourful shuffle with eyes of the size of dinner plates. She'd seen holopics of the more... exotic Federation races, of course, but that was very different from seeing them with her own eyes. Oh, the stories she'd tell her siblings would last for at least a secton!

Omega let her stare in open-mouthed awe for a few sectons, then he gently nudged her to move.

"Come on, Aggie. We shouldn't have Siress Athena waiting. Besides, this is nothing compared with Semiramis, I promise."

"Semiramis is even bigger?" the girl asked in disbelief.

Omega nodded. "Twenty times bigger, with twenty times as many people aboard as here, I swear. Now, can we move on? The shuttleport is this way, and we really need to hurry up."

With considerable reluctance, the girl tore her eyes from the almost hypnotic shuffling and bustling of the crowd and followed him obediently. She'd been promised to see even bigger and busier places, after all.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Basically, the shuttleport was a huge landing area with a virtual roof: a forcefield that could be partially disabled above each landing pad. It opened just a small window, so that starting and landing required a really good pilot. Theoretically, both Athena and Omega were skilled enough to fly the maneuver – right now, though, there was no need for them to do it themselves. They were using one of the Galactica's shuttles that was about to return to the battlestar, after some thorough maintenance work. A little detour to the Federation Starbase was within acceptable limits. Besides, rank had its privileges.

The landing area was scattered with Starfleet-issue shuttlecrafts: small, sleek, pearly white short-range vehicles. Among them, the few remaining Colonial shuttles looked like dinosaurs, with their 20 metrons of length and their battered, iron-grey hulls. For that, however, they were capable of travelling in deep space for two sectons, as well as flying in the atmosphere of a planet, carrying as much as twenty passengers and six hundred kilograms (or fifty-four cubic metrons) of cargo. Unlike Starfleet-issue shuttles, they had no weapons, but a 4.5 centimetron thick, re-enforced armoured hull. They might be a little less well-maneuvreable than their Starfleet counterparts, but they were sturdy little vessels – and very reliable ones.

Athena was already waiting for them, and as always, Omega was a little surprised to see her in civilian clothes. It was silly, he knew. After all, she'd left Service and went into politics as soon as New Caprica had been established. While her father – after some reluctance – had agreed to become the chairman of the Planetary Council, Athena had higher ambitions. Among her long-term plans, there was a seat in the Quorum, eventually, and she had every chance to win it, given enough time. For the time being, she seemed content with the position of a Special Emissary. She'd been delegated to deal with local Federation authorities – that meant the commander of the Starbase and the Federation ambassadors who lived there – and had even her own office and suite on the base.

The only thing she still didn't have was a personal shuttlecraft. She had been promised one, similar to the Antares, Colonel Tigh's ambassadorial vessel, but the small ship hadn't arrived yet. Deep Space Station Epsilon-7 was well beyond the usual trade routes. Athena had to wait until the next Starfleet cargo ship reached the Starbase.

Which, as she told Omega a bit sourly while they were boarding the Galactica shuttle, hadn't happened yet. That's why she depended on favours.

"What are you going to the Starbase for, then?" Omega asked, after having given Sergeant Giles, who was to pilot the shuttle, permission to initiate start sequence.

"I'm having an appointment with the Special Emissary of Alpha II," Athena replied. At Omega's blank look, she added helpfully. "Alpha III? Home of the famous Statutes of Alpha III? One of the first Earth colonies, modelled loosely after Plato's Republic? That Alpha III?"

"Oh," Omega said, finally having a clue. "The world the Gemoni stated had originally been populated by their ancestors who'd supposedly followed the Thirteenth Tribe?"

"A statement for which no proof has been found so far," Athena grinned, "nor is it likely that any would be found, ever. Which doesn't hinder the Otori sect harping about how the old Gemoni colony died out because of their carnal nature."

"Well, if nothing else, that legend secured New Gemini the special assistance of Alpha III," Omega said. "In hindsight, I'd say it was a clever move."

"I think the most recent political unrest on Alpha III have played a more important role in that," Jana Haines, always up-to-date in Federation politics, said. "There was quite an upheaval when Dr. Henry Justinian, a prominent member of the Planetary Senate, tried to initiate a change in the Statutes not so long ago, thus laying down the basics of a new caste system in their society."

"And people listened to that?" Omega asked incredulously. "In the twenty-third century?"

Jana shrugged. "Dr. Justinian is a big-name archaeologist and a fabulous rhetor. Alpha III's society allows political debates to be fought out publicly, on the agoras, and they often have a great effect on the elections and other votings. Dr. Justinian had a small, but very influential following – among them a certain Lang Caradon, they say, who's easily the richest man of the Federation. They could have caused a lot of trouble, as Dr. Justinian cleverly based his ideas on Plato's writings. Had he got through with his "reforms", it would have been very complicated to undo the damage afterwards."

"But he hasn't succeeded, has he?" Athena asked, more than a little worried. That was definitely not the influence she'd have wanted on New Gemini. The Otori, with their fanatic views, were bad enough to deal with.

"No," Jana smiled. "Fortunately, he's found his equal, or more than his equal, in arkhon Andronicus Palamas. My uncle, who happens to be a diplomat, had the pleasure to listen to their great debate – he says it was a most astonishing event of rhetoric. I can get you a transcript if you're interested; On Alpha III, all important debates appear in print on the following day. The bottom line is: not only has arkhon Palamas torn Dr. Justinian's suggestion to pieces – based strictly on Plato's writings, of course – but Dr. Justinian has also lost his seat in the Planetary Senate and was sent to some godforsaken asteroid to lead the diggings on one of the twenty-three completely identical outposts of the Great Ones."

"The great… what?" Omega frowned.

"A highly advanced race that's supposedly died out a few million years ago," Jana explained. "Not exactly a stellar assignment for a renowned archaeologist. And with that, the upheaval on Alpha III was settled. But I think the authorities were happy to dispatch a lot of people to help New Gemini and so give the population a new problem to work on."

"Palamas?" Athena repeated the name. "I'm supposed to meet someone with that name."

"You'd be dealing with the arkhon's daughter, Carolyn Palamas, most likely," Jana said. "Such assignments are usually given to junior diplomats, and Carolyn has just started a temporary career in diplomacy about a year ago. As a part-time job, more or less."

"Do you know her?" Omega asked. It never ceased to surprise him how well-informed his partner – well, his ex-partner now – always seemed in everything important that was going on in the Federation. Her family might not have power any longer, but hey sure as Hades had influence and contacts.

Jana laughed. "You know her, too," she said. "She was – well, I assume she still is – the A&A officer of the Enterprise. Unless she got herself a reassignment, but I doubt that. Nobody would leave the Enterprise for another ship, not voluntarily. I believe Carolyn only started dabbing in diplomacy to avoid any other long-term assignments and be available when the Enterprise launches again."

"Just like you," Omega said softly. Jana nodded.

"You can't imagine the grief my father has given me during the last two and half years," she said. "He wanted me to settle down in some boring lab, start some boring thesis only half a dozen people would ever read, perhaps win a price or an award nobody would care for anyway, and generally give up my career as a Starfleet officer."

Athena laughed. She still could remember vividly how much it had stung when her father had permanently assigned her to the bridge, successfully ending her promising career as a Viper pilot, once and forever.

"Not ready for that, are you?" she asked. Jana grinned back at her in complete understanding.

"I'll have enough time to age in dignity later," the astrophysicist replied. "I want to see the cosmic phenomena I might eventually write a thesis about first. Father is a very good scientist – well, more than just good, actually, it needs a certain degree of genius to win the Nobel and Zee-Magnees Prizes – but he's only ever seen things on holopics or through a telescope. I'm not like that. I'll probably never make a scientific breakthrough like my father, but at the very least I'll be able to say that I've been to places where no one has been before and seen things no one has seen before."

Her eyes were gleaming as she said that, and Omega understood how futile it would have been to expect that she might change her mind and stay with them on New Caprica. Even helping to rebuild the Caprican Flight Academy would have been too boring, too restraining for her. She was an adventurer at heart. Keeping her in one place would mean cutting her wings.

Aggie, who'd listened to them quietly all the time, seemed to understand this, too. She was a smart girl, after all, used to watch the adults around her with a critical eye.

"You're not coming back to us, are you?" she said. It wasn't a question, not really. Jana smiled at her.

"Sure I am," she said. "I'll visit you whenever I can."

Aggie didn't roll her eyes, not truly. That would have been disrespectful, and she was a polite kid. But it was a close thing.

"I mean, you're not coming to live with us again," she clarified. Jana shook her head.

"No, dear, I won't. It was lovely, as long as it lasted, but I need to go on with my life now."

Aggie nodded, not particularly upset by the answer.

"We all knew you'd go one day," she said simply. "But Pa's going to miss you." Not us, we won't, the unspoken part of the message hung very clearly between them in the air.

"He'll find someone else," Jana replied with a rueful smile. "Someone who's better suited for your family."

"He only needs to find someone for himself," Aggie said with a shrug. "We don't need anyone else. We're fine with Aurora, and she likes living with us. But one day she, too, will find someone, and even if they'll stay with us, Pa will be alone. It's not good to be alone. Not for him, nor for anyone else."

"I think this is not the right time or the right place to discuss my future love life," Omega intervened sternly. "We're about to leave our solar system. You should watch, Aggie, it's a beautiful sight."

Aggie, knowing that she'd overstepped her boundaries a bit, shut up obediently and watched as they passed New Caprica Station – one of the sorted-out Cylon basestars that served as the main defence weapon for their system. It wasn't a very spectacular view, she found: a grey, metallic double-disc, generously lined with mean-looking weapons. Definitely not something she'd be interested in, but she didn't want Pa to be angry with her.

In a Virgon family, she'd have had the right to help selecting a new wife for the head of the family – either as the eldest daughter still at home or as a junior wife in her new family. She understood that Capricans had different customs and that she had to adjust to those customs, now, that she lived in a Caprican family. In fact, she was relieved that she wouldn't have to marry for quite a few years yet; that she could learn and enjoy her life instead. Still, it irked her when Pa dismissed her like the younger children.

Back home, she'd be seen as an adult. In a Caprican family, she was still a child. She understood that this was the price of freedom – a freedom she'd never have at home. She'd accepted it. But that didn't mean she had to like it, right?

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

As a young flag officer, Omega had served on various ships, including the Sanguine Expectation and the Hesperian Dream, and visited many worlds, in- and outside Colonial territory. He'd seen true wonders of architecture (one of his secret pleasures he seldom shared with anyone), from the pyramidal sky-scrapers to the delicate crystalline cities of Gomoray. But even he had to admit that barely any of them could come close to the amazingness that was Deep Space Station Epsilon-7.

Federation databases said that Epsilon-7 (called simply Starbase 7, most of the time, for shortness' sake, and in homage of the time when it still had been a Starfleet outpost) was the biggest, most elaborate space stations ever built within Federation territory. From afar, it looked like a five-pointed star, with a terraced, cylindrical tower in the middle, and a mushroom-shaped section on top. The points of the star radiated from a discus-like centerpiece that surrounded the middle of the central tower, and ended in small towers that looked like miniature spacedocks, each of which could have several ships of various size docked at it at the same time. The terraces above the centerpiece were hydroponic gardens that bore a striking resemblance to the Colonial agroships; the ones below housed industrial factories and surrounded the main reactor core, which, for its part, tapered down to a massive communications tower with powerful antennae.

Basically, it was a self-supporting city, floating in deep space, housing half a million inhabitants, one quarter of which were humans, the rest hailed from every possible member world of the Federation – or outside it. The locals called their city Semiramis, because of the wondrous terraced gardens and were fiercely proud of it… for which they had every right, Omega judged. Based on a technology developed by the architects of Ardana, who were famous of their floating cities back on their homeworld, Semiramis was a shining jewel indeed.

The miniature towers at the end of the five extremities were diplomatic areas, housing the embassies of Vulcan, Andor, the Alpha Centauri Concordium of Planets, Tellar and 114 Delta V. Other Federation worlds had just smaller consulates that were situated in the VIP area of the habitat tower, but due to Semiramis' strategic position at the verge of unknown space – and now as the transit station to the New Colonies – every Federation world of some importance wanted to have a representative here.

Originally, Semiramis had been a Terran foundation, but slowly, bit by bit, members of many other species had moved there, and in the end it became an independent colony, with full Federation membership. As such, it had its own armed forces, its own industry, its own trade agreements with various Federation worlds, and now with the New Colonies as well. The terraces, the centerpiece and the five extensions had been added to the central tower in a span of twenty years, with the terraces being the latest additions. They had only been built some six years earlier.

Nominally, the colony was still a Starfleet outpost – which was the reason why it was occasionally still called Starbase 7 – but the Fleet's presence was practically restricted to the persons of the military governor, one Commodore Hunter, her executive officer, Lt. Cmdr. Anderson, and an unknown number of specialists who operated the impressive defence grid of the station. Omega didn't know how many those troops served there, but it must have been quite a number. They needed to work in four shifts around the clock, after all, and the station was huge.

Everything else was done by the inhabitant themselves. And since they'd come from almost every single world of the Federation, sooner or later one could find the right expert for just everything. In fact, the New Colonies couldn't have asked for a better neighbourhood. Semiramis offered education, experts, industry, and considerable financial and military support. In other worlds – civilization.

Something that the Colonies bitterly needed after the destruction of their own.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Giles docked the shuttle at the central docking area, right below the mushroom-shaped top piece of the station, and prepared to return to the Galactica at once.

"Do you want me to fetch you in the next secton, sir?" he asked Omega before departing. Omega shook his head.

"No, we'll return with the regular shuttle," he said. "I need to take Aggie home before I return to duty. My furlong is over in ten days. Altair is in command of the bridge until then; he needs practice, so I won't be looking over his shoulder if I don't have to."

"Yes, sir," Giles replied with a smart salute and left.

Omega, Athena, Aggie and Jana left the shuttle bay and went to the lounge to study the interactive station map that was integrated into the wall there.

"All right," Omega said, having found the education centre after a short dialogue with the computer. "It seems we need to go down two levels and then to Section Delta. Which is two sections away, in this direction…"

Jana touched his arm gently. "We'd better part here," she said. "I have to go back to Operations, to check in for the crew transporter and to get my orders. No need to avoid the inevitable any longer." She hugged Aggie briefly and kissed Omega one last time. "Take care. I'll call you when I've got aboard the Enterprise."

"I certainly hope so," Omega replied with mock dignity. "I expect regular and detailed reports about your adventures."

"I'll see what I can do," Jana laughed, albeit a bit uncomfortably. "I hope you won't find them too boring… I tend to add all those scientific details to my reports. Well… I'll be better going no. There's no use to… to prolong this unnecessarily."

She made an awkward gesture of farewell and hurried away. Despite being prepared for this, Omega felt a sudden wave of sadness. While they hadn't truly been in love, they'd had a good time together, and he knew it would be hard to get used to being alone again.

Athena laid a comforting hand upon his forearm, but she knew better than ask. Not about his feelings anyway. They'd been friends and colleagues long enough for her to know how futile an effort that would be.

"Where are you going to stay?" she asked instead.

Omega shrugged. "I'm sure they have rooms here that we can book for the few nights."

"Nonsense," Athena said. "I've got an entire diplomatic suite, with several bedrooms and a perfectly good food synthesizer, not to mention personnel, all for myself. You can stay with me; it will be more fun that way."

"Well," Omega hesitated a bit, but then he decided that it would be better for Aggie indeed than in some rent room with the Lords only knew what kind of neighbours. "Thank you, Athena."

"Don't mention it," Athena smiled. "Now, how long, do you think, your debriefing with the commodore will take?"

"I have no idea," Omega admitted. "I might have to wait for her a while – I couldn't make an appointment in advance as I didn't know how long Aggie would need for her tests."

"I see," Athena said. "What if I fetched Aggie after her tests? We can make a stroll on the shopping mall afterwards, have something to eat, perhaps go to a play or a concert. A girl of her age deserves a little fun every time and again… and it will give you enough time to take care of border patrol business with the commodore."

Omega looked at Aggie an askance. "Would you like that?"

The girl nodded eagerly, a huge grin practically splitting her face from ear to ear.

"Good, then it's settled," Athena produced one of those new, Starfleet-issue wrist communicators that looked more like a bracelet than like a comm device and closed it around Aggie's wrist. "Contact me when you're don," looking at Omega, she added. "You're welcome to join us any time you want, you know."

"I'll skip the shopping tour, I think," Omega shuddered demonstratively. "As far as for the rest – it depends on how long the debriefing will last. A play or a concert would be nice, in fact. Just like in old times."

"Like in old times," Athena agreed softly, her blue eyes darkening with memories. Due to the age difference between them, they had hardly ever met in their childhood. But they'd belonged to the same circles, to Caprica's aristocracy, and so they'd gone through the same classical education. Going to the theatre or to concerts had been an integral part of their youth, and they both missed those simple pleasures.

"We'll contact you," Athena promised; then she gave Aggie a brief but firm hug. "Good luck, kid! Show them what you have!"

"I will," the girl promised. "I'll make Pa proud."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

After Omega and his daughter had gone their way, Athena caught the station's shuttle – an overhead railway with connected cars – and travelled to the Centaurian embassy, where she had her appointment with Carolyn Palamas. She'd visited that part of the station before, as the Centaurians willingly housed any diplomatic conferences for allied worlds that didn't have the right type of rooms for that sort of thing. They were a funny and generous people, who liked music and copious amounts of very exotic food. Athena enjoyed visiting them every time.

As usual, she was welcomed by one of the numerous attachés: this time a slender, very dark-skinned, elderly man, with the usual bald head and deep red eyes of the indigenous people of Alpha Centauri VII. The man wore the customary widely-cut, brightly coloured gown that counted as very fashionable among his people and delicate golden bracelets on his upper arms. At first Athena found Centaurian fashion a bit strange, but she'd grown so used to it meanwhile that she barely noticed the flashy clothes.

"Emissary!" the old man said with a graceful bow. "Welcome again. Miss Palamas has just arrived and is waiting in one of the lesser conference rooms. May we offer refreshments?"

"Just some fruit juice, thank you," Athena said politely. Only once had she been careless enough to accept the extremely spicy Centaurian snacks. Her taste buds had needed days to recover.

The old man gave her a look that was positively mischievous.

"Learning through experience, aren't we?" he asked with twinkling eyes.

"It was a short but painful lesson," Athena replied with dignity, but she could barely hold her laughter back.

"Those are the best and most lasting ones," the old man assured her, then he opened a door on the left. "This way, please."

Smiling at the old man's antics, Athena followed him down a short corridor that led them to one of the "lesser conference rooms" as her guide had promised. For a lesser room it was a fairly big chamber, furnished only with a long, low table surrounded by beautifully carved, wooden benches. As a rule, Centaurians weren't big at furniture. Among themselves, they usually preferred low divans or just pillows strewn all over the floor. But, being a generous people, they made some allowances for their visitors' sake.

Athena had been introduced to Lt. Palamas at the grand reception, more than two yahrens earlier, when the Galactica had met the Enterprise for the first time. She could still vaguely remember a pretty, blue-eyed blonde, wearing the meanwhile outdated, ultra-short blue tunic of a female science officer.

That vague memory hadn't prepared her for the vision of a pale gold-haired goddess, wrapped in an artfully arranged, shimmering turquoise piece of silk, which was waiting for her in the conference room. The dark blue meandering pattern that seamed the iridescent fabric gave the unusual garment a dynamic line that wound from the woman's shoulder down to the floor. Her pearly white upper body was left all but free, save from a strategically placed fold of the silk that covered her bosom in a vertical curve, falling forward over her right shoulder again. By the best effort, Athena couldn't see what kept the gravity-defying piece in place, unless, of course, it was glued to the skin of its wearer. One long, wavy flaxen tress was pulled free from the beehive hairdo and fell over the woman's bare left shoulder.

It was the single most artistic dress Athena had ever seen, and also the most provocative and daring, although the noble ladies of Caprica and some other colonies hadn't exactly been shy in that department. She owned the one or other rather… revealing dress herself, but none of them would have been able to wear a garment like this with such independent self-confidence, not even Cassiopeia in her prime. She suspected that not many women from the various worlds of the Federation would be able to pull that trick, either. Apparently, being an aristocrat from Alpha III was something special.

Carolyn Palamas rose from the bench to great her, raising her hand in a somewhat arcane gesture that must have been custom on her homeworld.

"Siress Athena," she said with a friendly smile. "How good to see you again! Haven't we met on the great reception of Commander Adama aboard the Rising Star? You came in the company of Mr. Spock, if I remember correctly."

"Indeed," Athena nodded, "but unless I'm mistaken, you were following a… different dress code back then."

Palamas laughed quietly. "Don't let it bother you; this is just a tool. A very useful one, if I may add. It renders most male diplomats to confused heaps of hormones."

"And makes female ones mad with jealousy, which is just as useful for you to keep the upper hand," Athena added. Palamas laughed again.

"That is true. The only ones you should never try this trick with are Vulcans and Deltans."

"Why Deltans?" Athena asked. "Vulcans, I can understand. They are all cold fish and therefore completely immune against female viles. But Deltans…"

"… are so much better in this particular game that you'd never stand a chance against them," Palamas explained. "Not even Vulcans can withstand Deltan pheromones; not without conscious efforts. We humans would be utterly helpless. It's better not to start a battle that's doomed to be lost from the beginning."

She gestured towards the bench. "Have a seat, please. There's no need for formalities between us. We've both served as military officers; that allows us to be honest… when there are no witnesses, that is."

Athena found the other woman's bluntness refreshing, after having walked on eggshells around other Federation diplomats – not to mention the councillors of the Quorum – for the last two yahrens. She told so. Palamas shrugged; her garment, defying every single law of physics, remained firmly in place nonetheless. That alone must have required days of training, Athena mused.

"I can deal with the diplomats in their tiny sandboxes," Palamas said dismissively. "But since we are trying to actually get something done here, I thought we could – how do your pilots say it? – we could cut the felgercarb and go right down to business."

The vernacular of dirty-mouthed pilots coming from such an exquisite vision was so… ambivalent that Athena had to laugh, whether she wanted or not.

"I'm all for saving time," she assured her host. "And since you were the one who asked for this meeting, I assume there is a specific problem you wanted to discuss with me."

Palamas nodded, her expression growing very serious all of a sudden.

"My government has completed the first phase of our support programme considering New Gemini," she explained. "We've done the basic work; from now on, the Deltans are taking over the details. That has freed a lot of potential on our side, which we'd be willing to use on other worlds of the New Colonies."

"Do you need help with choosing he right candidate?" Athena asked in surprise.

"In a sense, yes," Palamas admitted. "Our architects have visited several of the New Colonies, but I need some… Insider information before we make our choice. I hoped that you could be of assistance, as you're representing the entire sector, not any particular world."

"Well, I certainly can give it a try," Athena said, a bit doubtfully. "Which ones are the candidates?"

"None of the planets still being terraformed," Palamas replied. "We are much better at the next phase, when actual cities are being built. So, the choice would be between Scorpia, Piscera, Taura and Aquarius." She spared herself the addition New before each name; it was obvious anyway.

"You haven't even considered New-Caprica?" Athena asked, a bit stung.

Palamas shook her head. "No, you're already getting enough help from Earth and Ardana. The Federation isn't interested in creating a… an imbalance of power and wealth between your worlds. That could only lead to civil unrest, and that would be unfortunate, for both you and us."

Athena had to admit that this was very true. The inner competition between the individual tribes and their respective homeworlds had never completely ceased till the Destruction, and now that the not always voluntary bonds had been loosened a bit, the danger that it might break loose again was all too real. There had been complaints from the smaller tribes that had got the less habitable worlds already, and things could get worse any time.

"Is that the reason why you haven't considered New Leonis either?" she asked.

"Partly," Palamas admitted. "The other reason was the person of the Leonid councillor."

"Sire Uri?" Athena pulled a face. "Yeah, we were all a bit shocked that the Leonids have re-elected him. But you must understand that – next to the late President Adar – he used to be one of the great architects of the Renaissance Days. As the governor of Caprica, he created a series of public works projects, revitalizing the planet's infrastructure. He also contributed to the Colonies' leading art institutions. Now, in these days of peace and rebirth, people remember these achievements, and hope that he'd be able to repeat that performance, I guess."

"He has done a lot of ground work on New Leonis," Palamas agreed, "and he seems to find the most useful allies, all the time. I still have my doubts about his true motivations, though."

"You and me and my father and a lot of other people," Athena nodded. "The simple folk, however, thinks in simple terms. Sire Uri gives them what they desperately need, and they are willing to forget his less than… glorious deeds during our flight for that."

"In a way, it's understandable," Palamas said thoughtfully, "but he really doesn't need our support to defend his own interest. Now, what can you tell me about Sire Anton? I understand he and your father used to be friends."

"Used to be is the key word here," Athena said. "They were more allies than friends anyway. To be perfectly honest, it was my mother who dabbed in politics, and she kept the contact with Sire Anton alive all the time. That came handy for my father when Anton became President, but he always said that while Anton is a very intelligent and determined man, he's too much of a politician to be completely trusted."

"Could that be the reason why he didn't get re-elected as President?" Palamas asked.

Athena thought about that for a micron, then she shook her head.

"No, I don't believe so," she said. "I rather think people wanted someone new, someone… someone younger for this new beginning. A fresh start, if you want to see it that way. President Darius is not only a poet and brings thus the hope of a new Renaissance; he's also the son of one of our greatest war heroes: the late Commander Devon, leader of the Fourth Fleet, who'd been against any negotiations with the Cylons till the bitter end. Just like my father."

"So, this is a bit of basking in reflected glory, isn't it?" Palamas asked.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Athena replied with a shrug. "Basically, Darius is a good man – even though perhaps a little naïve. That could be dangerous later; I'm sure some of the old Quorum will try to influence him from the background. It all depends on how he chooses his advisors, I guess."

"He's from Aquarius, isn't he?" at Athena's nod, Palamas continued thoughtfully. "If we chose New Aquarius as our next project, we could also offer the President political advisors. I'm sure he'd find them… useful."

"You should be careful with him," Athena warned. "He might be naïve, but he's certainly no fool, and he's a very stubborn man. He won't allow anyone to manipulate him… and he might prove shrewd enough to realize when he's being manipulated."

"We're not planning to do anything like that," Palamas replied calmly. "But politics are a way of art, just like poetry – art that one needs to learn. I'll try to make President Darius see the advantages of that."

"If you visit him in that gown, he'll most certainly see the light," Athena laughed.

"Like I said: it's a very useful tool," Palamas replied with a grin. "But actually, I've studied the history of Aquarius a bit, and I think our people would get along with the Aquarians well enough."

"They're a fairly mixed society, and thus more open for new ideas," Athena agreed. "They were the ones to take in the few hundred survivors from the Delphian Empire, after all, and they even managed to co-exist with them without serious problems. Which, considering the peculiarities of Delphian culture, is not a small feat."

"Delphians… aren't they the green-skinned lizards with those metallic-looking feathers on their heads?" Palamas asked. Athena nodded.

"They are. They used to be great artists and architects before the Cylons wiped out their Empire, but trust me: they're not the easiest people to live with."

"I'll take your word for that," Palamas grinned again. "Very well then, I'll suggest my government to choose New Aquarius for our next campaign. Afterwards, we can always move on to Piscera or Taura."

"Not Scorpia, though?" Athena asked with a sly wink.

"Somehow," Palamas replied dryly, "I imagine that Sire Anton will be more than capable of getting enough support for their planet without our help. Plus, this will spare me the necessity to deal with his right-hand woman, that Captain Sheba – which is definitely a bonus."

"Oh, yes," Athena shuddered involuntarily. "You have no idea what a bonus it is. If I imagine that my brother barely escaped from getting Sealed with her, I could still get indigestion."

"Well, we can't have that, now can we?" Palamas smiled and rose from the bench. "I know something that would help you to more pleasant thoughts. Have you ever been in a Centaurian bath? A real one, as thy have it back on their homeworld?"

"No, but…"

"No buts! Whoever needs to contact you, can reach you there. You look like someone in need to be thoroughly pampered, and a Centaurian bathhouse is the perfect place for that."

TBC