Section 1.9 : Aftermath

 

 

17 Quintus 6490
Military Headquarters, Caprica City

"I'm going out to the Boeotian system as soon as we've done the report back to the Intelligence Committee. I take it that you got my message about them wanting to start on us tomorrow, as soon as the Inquiry's done?"

"Yes. Dad told me."

"Very protective, your father," murmured Felix.

Apollo's grin was faint. "Very."

"It wasn't exactly helping me yesterday. I couldn't get past him and I really needed to talk to you about the Committee. We need to prepare."

"The story's pretty straight."

"But the presentation matters. I've started working on it. I need your help."

"I'm here for the rest of the day." Apollo concentrated on the datapad in his hand. "How many?"

"Tally's confirmed at fourteen who show signs of invasive cranial surgery." Felix swung down from the lab stool to join Apollo at the little table in the centre of the room. "They've been isolated from the others."

Apollo tightened his grip on the datapad to stop his hands from shaking. "They can't have been trepanned like the ones in the pods. We'd hardly have missed that."

"No." Felix frowned. He touched the datapad in Apollo's hands. "You can see from this that they've been lobotomised," he said. "Probably the entire frontal cortex has been severed from the rest of the brain since they aren't doing anything in the way of showing emotional or intellectual responses. They're like automata, existing but not living."

"Was the frontal lobe severed or removed?"

"Soft tissue scans say removed. Sorry. Sloppy of me to suggest otherwise."

"Some variant experiment to hybridise the tissue? Maybe even some of the early attempts to extract human brain material to use?"

"We can hope that's all it is."

"It's just... it's just that all sounds so delicate compared to the crude way they were growing the IL-A tissue. Delicate operations that leave the skull intact. Doesn't make much sense."

"I know."

"Anomalous and inconsistent. I don't like inconsistencies. You can hide too much inside them."

"Yes. We'll know more when I get there. At the moment, the people are just corralled into an isolation unit. I'll be doing all the tests and examinations myself."

"Lucky you." Apollo shook his head. "I don't like this. I don't like it at all."

"Me neither." Felix shifted, uncomfortably. "Has the Management said what you'll be doing after today?"

"Providing I still have a career? I'll be going to the Galactica when the Intelligence Committee's finished with these preliminary reports. I'm not a scientist, Felix. This next stage is up to you. But it's still my project... our project. We'll work it long distance, as usual."

"I'll let you know what I find as soon as I can."

"Yeah."

For a centon they looked at each other.

Then Felix smiled, very slightly. "It's all going to hell, isn't it?"

Apollo nodded.





18 Quintus 6490
The Praesidium, Caprica City

The formal Board of Inquiry met in the Praesidium, the hugely ornate building in the very centre of Caprica City that housed the Council of the Twelve and all its administrators and officers. President Adar was chairing it himself. To intimidate us, Supreme Commander Jak had surmised with some scorn before going on ahead to take his seat and, hopefully, terrorise and bully a few of his fellow judges in return. As Apollo commented (quietly) to his father, Jak was unintimidated with good reason since the Supreme Commander would be sitting in judgement on the safe side of the table.

Adama left with the Supreme Commander after giving his son some last-centon exhortations about his manner and conduct for the day ahead, instructions that visibly amused Jak and which Apollo bore with remarkable filial patience. Given the shameful display of weakness that had had him clinging to his father for an entire night and much of the following day, Apollo didn't feel that he had much of a leg to stand on when it came to declaring independence and saying that he'd work out for himself the best tactics for getting through the Inquiry, thank you very much. His father's unstinting support had had the twin effect of giving Apollo the space to start to come to terms with what he'd found and done on Molecay and make him feel that he'd been reduced back to dependency status, back to adolescence or something. He was grateful and resentful in almost equal measure. He had enough grace, however, to keep the resentment to himself.

He travelled to the Council building with Felix. The other witnesses, as the summonses described them, would make their own way there. Felix settled back in the military car that Jak had allowed them to have, in order, the Supreme Commander had said, to impress upon everyone that he'd back his people against politicians any day of the secton. Apollo was dimly grateful, both for the transport and the support. It meant something, to have Jak on his side. He knew his godfather would do his best to ensure the Inquiry Board did not look at Apollo and see a scapegoat.

Felix seemed to be as relaxed about proceedings as the Supreme Commander. "You know, you're not normally the most talkative man I know but you're being unnaturally quiet, even for you. Don't let it bother you."

Apollo shrugged. "How can it not?"

"The whole Molecay mission not only had Intelligence Committee and Security Committee approval, the whole bloody Council agreed to it. The details of the job had the Supreme Commander's approval. You can't be held responsible for Cain being insane. Okay, it's not going to be pleasant but I seriously doubt that they'll tear your balls off. Why worry so much?" He added, dryly, "There's other things to worry about."

Another shrug.

"You just worry that people wearing more braid than you won't think that you're wonderful."

Apollo tried sneering, but Felix just laughed.

"C'mon, Apollo. Reality check here. Little as you want to accept it, you can't expect everyone in the universe to think you're the greatest thing since humanity left Kobol."

"The fewer who don't think that, the better," said Apollo. "I do not want to be known throughout all three services as the man who lost a battlestar."

"You aren't responsible for Cain running off."

"It was my mission."

"But it was his decision, based on the Lords alone know what reasoning. If any."

"Yeah. Well, I know that. I know that there was nothing in hell I could do to stop Cain leaving. I mean, it's not like I knew he was going to do it, did I? They can't expect me to have been able to do anything about it. I know that. I do know that." Apollo shifted uncomfortably. "I just don't want to talk about Molecay, much."

"You'll have to. They're going to be digging right into it and when this is over, we've still got the full Committee reports to finish. This is nowhere near over, my friend."

"I know."

Felix watched him for a centon or two, until Apollo raised his head and stared back. "Can you do it? They'll want to pull all the details out of your head, and I know it shook you."

Apollo hunched a shoulder, defensively. Even going over the stuff with Felix the previous day had been hard. "One of the good things about working with the Unit, you know, is that I like the problems we solve and, mostly, I like being right. I know I'm not stupid and I like it that I get the chance to show off a bit." He looked away, staring out at the buildings they were passing. "I'd give anything at all to have been wrong about this."

"All you did was analyse the material," said Felix. "You didn't create Molecay by finding out about it, by realising what the T18 data meant. You can't beat yourself up over that."

"No."

"Without that information, we could be very vulnerable. You were right about that. It had to be done."

"Yes. I know."

Felix grinned. "Don't see what you're worrying about, anyway. It was my bloody plan."

"Our plan. We were in it together."

"So loyal!" jeered Felix. "Determined to go down with me, huh?" He frowned. "Oh dear, that was inadvertent sexual imagery."

"I'm trying not to think about it," Apollo assured him.

"Good. Because even if they throw book at us and we end up as cellmates, I'm warning you now that I'm not up for a change in my sexuality just to keep you sweet for the next twenty yahrens. Even if you do look good in dress uniform."

Apollo choked, and laughed for the first time in days. From the smug expression on Felix's face, that was precisely what his companion had intended. The transport drew up at the Praesidium.

"Although you'd look better if you had your medals on straight," said Felix. "There's probably a regulation somewhere about putting them on squint. Disrespect for the honours granted you by an adoring public, or something."

"Most of mine come in the post." Apollo followed Felix out of the transport. "Shield isn't big on ceremony."

"Just as well, given the rudimentary nature of your social graces," said Felix as he and Apollo started up the immense and imposing flight of steps that led up to the columned portico that soared skywards above them. "At least they're letting us in by the front door. I'd have really worried if we'd been sent around to the Tradesman's Entrance."

It was a little more of an effort to keep up the dark humour with every step Apollo climbed. "Although that's more our natural level, you mean?"

"Mine, anyway. My daddy's not a rich Council member."

"Be grateful that mine is. At least he's on our side."

"On yours, anyway. I'm content to slipstream in behind." Felix sighed. "And no, that was not another double entendre."

"If you say so," said Apollo, and grinned.

The columned portico enclosed a wide marble pavement. Handy for making speeches from, observed Felix, following Apollo across it to where the bronze doors, several times a man's height, were thrown back to allow them entrance – allow them entrance once they'd got past security, anyway, and security at the Praesidium was tight. They had it amply demonstrated to them how much of a privilege it was for hoi polloi to enter the building's august portals, even when they were the sons of rich Council members and came summonsed by the President of the Council of Twelve himself. They were stared at suspiciously when they stated their business. They had their summonses subjected to intense visual and UV scrutiny and had to prove conclusively that they were the people named on the papers through biometric analysis. They had to empty their pockets and account for every item in them. They were searched and made to parade through more than one scanner area to ensure they weren't secreting anything dangerous about their persons. And then they were allowed in – with an escort who positively hulked and who was evidently built by the same construction company that built battlestars.

"We are a democracy, aren't we?" demanded Felix, annoyed, ignoring the guard coming along behind them. "I mean, we do pay taxes for the upkeep of this place? The least they could do is bloody well let us in when we're invited."

"It's always like this."

"Enough to make me a bloody anarchist. What's with you? You'd normally be the one complaining."

"I was thinking how useless it all is, really." Apollo glanced over his shoulder to the scanner area and the beefy Council Security officers who manned it. "If I'd been right about everything, if I still am right about everything, not even those scanners would show it."

Felix, too, stared back at the security controls, and scowled. "I'll have to work harder on some new scanners," he muttered.

"You do that. Be sure to send me one."

"That reminds me! You were one short when you gave me back the scanners I was able to modify."

"Was I?" said Apollo. "I must have mislaid it."

Felix snorted and followed Apollo and their escort into the designated waiting room. It was almost like reliving the moment they'd walked into Jak's waiting room three sectons earlier, with the addition of Sergeant Haydn. The other captains, all in full dress uniform this time, were already there, all of them looking tense and strung out. Apollo nodded greetings at them all and went to sit beside Van Trion.

"All right?"

"I've been better. You?"

He nodded. "Like you, I've been better. I've not been sleeping much."

"Nor me." She gave him a tight smile. "I don't like dreaming."

"No."

"I asked you once, when you came aboard the Dhow, how you coped with both jobs. How do you do it?"

Apollo sighed and shook his head. "Just barely."




"This is a formal Board of Inquiry," said the President, "constituted under the provisions of the Military Judicial Inquiries Act of 5837 as amended by Part II and accompanying legal Schedules of the Military Inquiry (Deposition) Regulations of 6003. In accordance with those Regulations, the proceedings and deliberations of this Inquiry will be recorded and encrypted, Griffin Beta Six and higher security access only. This Board is convened to enquire into the disappearance of the Battlestar Pegasus and her entire crew on 39 Quintus of this yahren whilst in military action at the former Sagittarian Colony of Molecay in the Firenze Quadrant. All proceedings and deliberations of the Inquiry are covered by the Official Secrets Act, and every one of you giving evidence here today will sign declarations that you understand and accept the Act's provisions as they apply to proceedings here, to you and to your future conduct. You are bound by those provisions in their entirety. Breach them, and you will endure the full penalty of the Law."

He paused and looked around the silent courtroom, and tapped his ceremonial gavel against the table where he sat.

"This Board of Inquiry is now in session."




The Inquiry was chaired by the President of the Council of the Twelve, Adar of Libra. He was another old Adaman family friend, although Apollo didn't remember seeing much of him over the last decade or so, when Adar's political career had culminated in the Presidency. It might mean nothing in the end if the Inquiry Board was determined to find a scapegoat for Cain's insanity, but that it was chaired by one of his father's allies was enough to make Apollo feel hopeful.

Adar was flanked by two members of the Council of Twelve: Jethric of Piscea and Lady Beatrice of Sagittaria. Apollo didn't know either of them on a personal level. Supreme Commander Jak sat at one end of the table, quiet and rather forbidding, General Martens at the other, beside Jethric. All of them, including the President, were also members of the Council's Intelligence Committee. All of them knew what Molecay had been about.

It wasn't a big room, but there was space enough for all of the witnesses, sitting in a little gaggle in the central section, just behind the lonely chair where each would be interrogated. There was space enough, too, for observers. Four other members of the Council of the Twelve, including Apollo's father, sat off to one side. They weren't formal Inquiry members and wouldn't take any part in the proceedings. But the three Councillors sitting with Adama were, with the members of the Inquiry Board, the whole of the Intelligence Committee.

Apollo wasn't surprised to see them. He'd expected that they'd turn up to protect themselves, to gauge the political consequences of their decision to send the mission to Molecay. Except for his father, of course. He wasn't a member of the IC, although like every Councillor he saw the Committee's reports, and he didn't have any personal political capital tied up in the Molecay job, per se. He only had personal political capital tied up in Apollo. Apollo could only be grateful that Adama was willing to spend it. Once he would not have been certain that his father would think him worth the effort. He thought he knew better, now.

The President was not, Apollo thought, physically impressive, but he had a presence for all that. All the authority of the Twelve Colonies was vested in him and he was a consummate politician, he knew how to play that. Mostly, Apollo concluded, it was his voice. It was deep and rich, for such a small man; and it was with relish that Adar rolled out all that impressive rhetoric, those significant, laden legal phrases dropping like polished stones into the quiet courtroom. The President utilised this best weapon of his even on the most mundane sentences. He listed the witnesses in the order he intended to call them and gave a strong hint that if they were hoping to find out more about Molecay they were in the wrong Inquiry - "Strategy Unit Personnel will remain for the entire Inquiry, please. As for the rest of you, when I am satisfied with your testimony, you will leave the Inquiry room and, after you have been taken to the security office and signed your Declarations, you will return to the waiting room to await our verdict and our directions as to your future conduct." - and called the first witness. All in a voice like rich honey. No wonder the man was a politician. It was either that or become some charlatan of an actor. Although there was not, frankly, a great deal of difference between the two.

With the exception of Felix, who would go first, the Board intended to question the witnesses in reverse order of their understanding and knowledge of what was going on inside the Cylon base on Molecay. Apollo would be last. He'd known that, he'd known that all along, but he slumped back in his uncomfortable hard chair anyway, wishing for the first time in his life that he'd done as his father had wanted and gone to the Academy. He'd be safely in Fleet somewhere now if he had, a million parsecs away from the Strategy Unit and all the crummy jobs the Unit gave him. He'd like that. He'd really like that. Hell, he'd even go quietly and happily to the Galactica, that's how much he'd like that.

Felix was a precise and scientific witness, allowing the eminence of neither the Board of Inquiry as an institution nor the people who comprised it to concern him. He took the Inquiry through the plan that he and Apollo had put together for getting the prisoners off the base. He had been allowed to bring some schematics and scanner holopics with him, the better to explain the topography of the Molecay system and show where every ship should have been and at what stage. He probably enjoyed that. Felix always liked visual aids. He was principally examined on his assessments of the risks, and the countermeasures he and Apollo had put into place.

When pressed by Councillor Jethric, he had to admit to a failure to anticipate that a battlestar commander would abandon the plan and the rest of the rescue mission. "Next time, sir, I'll be sure to factor in the possibility."

Jethric's mouth narrowed right down. "You seem remarkably certain that you'll be allowed a next time, Captain."

"Experience, sir. The Strategy Unit's part in this war may be unsung, but we'd have lost long ago without the Unit's work."

"And yet with you, we may not have lost the battle but we have lost a battlestar. Hardly a inexpensive, inconsequential piece of equipment to lose, Captain. Careless, don't you agree?"

"The debrief reports, sir, suggest that Commander Cain left of his own volition." Felix was polite but unmoved. "I don't really think that we were responsible for losing him."

Jethric's thin mouth curved into something that, in a poor light, may have been mistaken for a smile. "I think you'll find that that's for this Inquiry to decide, Captain. No further questions."

Felix slid back into his seat beside Apollo. "He doesn't like us," he remarked, sotto voce, as the next witness was called up, her identity verified and her oath of truth-and-nothing-but was taken. "I can tell."

"Really?" marvelled Apollo. "How'd you guess?"

"The evidence, dear boy. Evidence never lies."

Transport Captain Mione next, a resentful and angry witness. No, she had no idea what Molecay was really about, although—with a glare at Apollo—she suspected it was more than she'd been told since Commander Cain had obviously been given more information than anyone else. She was there to drive one of the transports bringing back the human prisoners who they'd gone to rescue, and that was all she knew. The journey in had been uneventful, if nervous; everything going according to plan. Yes, they'd taken up position behind the second planet, exactly where and when they were supposed to, and there they waited until Captain Apollo called in the transports. That's when it all changed, and Captain Illych had told her and Captain Willem to join him in orbit over Molecay. There was no sign of the Pegasus, sir. No, she didn't know what had happened. The second planet had hidden Molecay and the Pegasus from her scanners, and the Pegasus was using a different comm frequency. She was not privy to any of the discussions other than those directly concerning her ship, and orders had been relayed by Captain Illych. Her shuttles had brought back fifty-seven human prisoners. They'd been no trouble - drugged or something, she thought. The journey back was uneventful. The rescued prisoners had been safely delivered to a planet in the Boeotian system, the whole operation routine once they'd crossed back, unmolested, into their own space. That's all she knew, sir.

Transport Captain Willem, a calm and rather disinterested witness. His story was almost identical to Mione's, but related with less emotion. He accepted, as Mione evidently did not, that their role was to provide unquestioning support. He'd done so, and kept his head well below the parapet after that. Yes, they'd got to the Molecay system without incident. The plan had changed, just as Captain Mione said, sir. The Pegasus was gone, and they'd had to improvise to ensure that the rescued prisoners embarked safely. He'd taken off seventy five prisoners – his ship was slightly bigger than Captain Mione's and could carry more. He agreed that the rescued prisoners were docile and easy to handle. They hadn't seemed to grasp what was going on around them. No, he had had no contact with the Pegasus, sir. Their contact had been with Captain Illych.

Captain Illych, a bereaved and mourning witness. He was quietly outraged, quietly hurt. He didn't attempt to hide his sense of betrayal, the shocked realisation that the Commander he had idolised and had been almost unbearably proud to serve with, had taken the Pegasus off-station and disappeared. Apollo wasn't entirely sure whether Illych's pain was for the loss of Cain and the Pegasus or for being left behind, for being somehow unworthy of Cain's trust. He suspected that the members of the Inquiry board were similarly uncertain. Illych recounted his side of the story: the briefing meeting and Cain's excitement about the job, the quiet shuttle journey out to rendezvous with Fifth Flotilla, the final briefing, Molecay itself and the sudden request from Apollo asking him to help locate the Pegasus, failure, Apollo taking command, ordering him to take Pegasus's place, the destruction of the base, Apollo's arrival on the Hertford with an armed escort of Shield Warriors and three body bags... No, Illych had not been told who was in the bags. He had provided a compartment for the Shield Warriors and extra refrigeration units for the body bags and that was the last he saw of either warriors or corpses until they got back to Caprica. They hadn't even appeared during the brief detour into the Boeotian system to deliver the two transport ships. Shield Captain... Acting Shield Major Apollo, he should say, had not spoken to him about Molecay or the contents of the body bags.

"Did you ask?" asked Martens.

Illych shrugged. "Yes, of course, Ma'am. I was curious and those things were on my ship. I got told that it didn't concern me. I didn't like it, but I didn't see any point in pushing. He wasn't going to tell me." He turned his head to glance at Apollo, sitting behind him. "He was in command. I accepted that."

Yes, he'd recorded the sensor sweeps, on Apollo's orders. Yes, he could confirm that these were the sensor records in question; that was his seal and Shield Captain Apollo's on the sensor tapes. He and Shield Captain Apollo had witnessed the seals being broken during the debrief session. He would vouch for it that no-one had tampered with them in the interim. That was the sensor record as he remembered it. There's the Pegasus's ion trail, centre left, leading out of the Molecay system towards the main Cylon base in that quadrant. What did he think had taken the Pegasus off-station?

Silence, then a slow uncertain response to the Supreme Commander's question: "I don't know, sir. I don't know. I can't believe – I mean, the Commander had to have seen something that needed him to act, something my isometrics and scanner arrays just didn't pick up on. We know that there was activity at the nearest Cylon base…" Illych paused, shook his head. "He had to have seen some threat, something that made him take off to deal with it and there was some comms problem that stopped him from telling the rest of us what was going on." Illych avoided the Supreme Commander's cynical gaze. "I can't think of anything else. There was no data to go on."

"And so," said Jethric smoothly, "you followed Shield Captain Apollo's orders?"

Yes. Illych had had no qualms in following Shield Captain Apollo's orders in the absence of Commander Cain; the Shield Captain—and, he presumed, the Commander—had been the only ones fully in the picture.

"Orders to abandon the Pegasus, I understand."

Illych's shoulders stiffened. "I was concerned, as anyone would be, at having to leave the Pegasus, but I was in full agreement with Shield Captain Apollo's assessment that we had a mission to finish, a job to do. Without knowing what had taken the Commander away, we couldn't wait for the Pegasus to return, not when we knew that there was activity at the nearby Cylon base with every possibility that a basestar was heading our way. Without the Pegasus's viper squadrons and her firepower, we were very vulnerable. The two transport ships were only lightly armed."

"How very pragmatic of you," said Jethric, and sat back.

No further questions. Illych, still stiff and offended, got out of the inquisitor's chair.

The President paused proceedings and thanked Illych and the two Transport captains gravely before dismissing them to the care of the head of Council Security who would oversee their signatures to the declarations of secrecy. Apollo eased tense shoulders while the Inquiry relaxed for a centon or two as the three were escorted out, almost wishing that he'd gone to the Academy and bombed out of there into the safe confines of the Transport Directorate. At that moment, tootling about the star systems ferrying something safe and inanimate here and there had a very strong attraction. Felix caught his eye and grinned slightly. Apollo grimaced back, turning his head to glance at his father. Adama was watching quietly, his attention apparently on the Inquiry Board rather than his son.

"We'll take a few centons recess," said the President, when the door closed again. "I believe that I have dismissed those who have no knowledge at all of what was found on Molecay? Good. I see no need to widen the circle of those who do know what was happening there."

Councillor Jethric glanced at Apollo, Van Trion and Haydn. "It's a pity it was extended at all."

"Inevitable, I think," said Beatrice. "It's unlikely that Shield Captain Apollo could have carried out the ground mission without some assistance."

Adama smiled slightly, catching Apollo's gaze.

"Five centons," said the President, ignoring the byplay.

He disappeared through a door at the back of the room, taking the Supreme Commander with him. Beatrice turned away and opened the file in front of her, taking out one of the papers. She read it with quiet ostentation while the group of Councillors started a lively, if low-toned, discussion. A set of discussions, really, only some of which overlapped. Apollo watched them, fascinated. There, in the margins, was where the shifting alliances were forged and broken, Adama had said once to Apollo, the shadows where political deals were done and undone, where backs were scratched – or stabbed with all the delicacy of a stiletto between the shoulder-blades. Adama was uncomfortable with it all, Apollo knew. His father really didn't make a very good politician. It explained why he preferred Council meetings over the Gold-link.

"I wasn't expecting you back, Adama," said Jethric.

Adama had been talking quietly to the Leonid Councillor. He broke off the conversation to regard Jethric thoughtfully. "No? That rather surprises me."

"Then let me rephrase that," said Jethric. "I'm not surprised, exactly. I was merely unaware that you were scheduled to be back on Caprica."

"I reschedule my diary on a regular basis, actually. I'll ensure my yeoman keeps your office informed of the changes, if you'd find that helpful."

General Martens smiled, and the Leonid beside Adama looked quickly away. Felix dug Apollo in the ribs and snorted softly, as capable as ever of extracting amusement from the most unpromising circumstances. Apollo rubbed at the rib.

"That's very kind of you, Adama. I must say that your family feeling does you great credit."

"Thank you," said Adama. He smiled when Apollo looked at him. Apollo managed to grin back and Jethric shut up.

The President was back within the five centon deadline. Apart from a cursory glance from Councillor Jethric to Adama, he acted as if the recess hadn't happened. He called them all to order, and invited Sergeant Haydn to take the chair.

The Sergeant was a terse and reserved witness. His evidence was clipped and precise, reminding Apollo of the man's efficiency during the short battle in the base. He sat ramrod straight in the chair, reciting his account in the remote way that sergeants have always dealt with enquiries from senior officers: giving them exactly what they asked for and no more. He agreed that Shield Captain Apollo... no, sorry, acting Shield Major Apollo had briefed them all on the ship – "We were told that we were going after some prisoners, Ma'am," he said to Martens. "That's all." – and explained that he'd been assigned as the Major's nursemaid, to watch his back. He recounted the ground raid in a dispassionate tone, faltering only briefly when he described going into the building with Apollo and what they'd found there.

"Did Captain Apollo explain what was going on?" asked Beatrice.

Haydn shook his head. "No, Ma'am. It wasn't my place to ask, and there was too much happening. There wasn't time. There was a live Cylon in there."

He told of the shooting of the IL Cylon, and Van Trion's arrival. He'd been sent outside after that, sir, to oversee the screening of the prisoners. No, Ma'am, he wasn't certain what they were being screened for. The hand-held scanners the Major had given him before the raid had been pre-set and the Major collected them all back afterwards. The prisoners had all come up clean, anyway, and he'd supervised their embarkation in the Transport shuttles. That was it.

He returned Jethric's stare with indifference when he answered the Councillor's final question. "No, sir. I don't to this day know what the Cylons were doing with those bodies, and I don't care to know. I asked the Captain—my captain, I mean—and she told me not to concern myself about it. She said that only the frea.. I mean, only the Strategy Unit people like Captain Apollo knew what was going on and we were both better off out of it." He paused, considered, and nodded. "I thought about that. She was right then. She still is right."

Van Trion was on the other side of Felix. Leaning forward slightly, all Apollo could see of her without overtly turning his head to look, was one of her ears beneath the fall of blonde hair. The tip of her ear was red. Felix's shoulders were shaking. Apollo sighed and turned his attention away from Van Trion and the other (easily amused) freak from the Strategy Unit, watching as Haydn, too, was thanked and sent on his way.

Van Trion was a quiet witness. The President assured her that the Inquiry was aware that she had a greater knowledge than any of the other captains of what was found on Molecay. It would be touched upon only in so far as necessary, and the President reminded her, strongly, of the requirements of the Official Secrets Act. She turned in her chair to give Apollo a look that left him under no illusion about what she thought about that extra warning or what she thought of him.

But she was fair. She covered the whole of the initial briefing, her account tallying with everything they had heard from the other witnesses, and moved on to describe everything that happened from Apollo's appearance on the Dhow's flight deck in his borrowed Viper.

She agreed that Apollo had briefed her about what was waiting for them on Molecay. "To some extent."

"Not the detail?" asked Beatrice.

"No, Ma'am. He told me only what I needed to know: that it was an experimental station and that the Cylons may be using the human prisoners in their experiments. When we got there—"

Apollo listened to her carefully as she briefly outlined what they'd found in the factory. She wasn't permitted to go into very much detail, but she made clear that it was evident that it was a manufacturing plant, creating IL series Cylons.

"And was that Shield Captain Apollo's conclusion or your own?" asked Jethric, voice like silk.

"Captain Apollo had more prior knowledge than I had of what the Molecay base may entail, obviously," said Van. "But I don't think he knew for certain what we'd find. I managed to work most of it out for myself. It seemed pretty conclusive from what we could see for ourselves." When Jethric inclined his head gracefully, she went on: "We dismissed my sergeant to ensure that knowledge of what was going on was limited, and explored the place together, sir. Everything pointed to it being a factory, churning out IL Cylons."

"And the humans? Are you certain of their role in the production process?"

"We'll come to that a little later, I think," interrupted President Adar, mildly. "Another line of questioning, if you please, Jethric."

The councillor bowed his head slightly. "Of course. What, Shield Captain Van Trion, do you think of Shield Captain Apollo's decision not to bring back all of those poor people in the factory?"

Jak stirred, turning his head to give the Councillor a considering glance. Apollo, straightening up in his chair, could see, out of the corner of his eye, Adama straightening in his. His father's face was expressionless.

"They were dead," said Van. "We couldn't bring them back."

"And that, too, was Shield Captain Apollo's decision? You trusted his judgement?"

"He had a better idea than me of what was going on."

"And was content to leave behind almost eighty people."

"They were dead, sir."

"Yet you brought two back, I believe, along with the IL Cylon."

"To help the Strategy Unit determine their role in the production process, I assume, sir."

"And you have no comment on the Shield Captain's decision to bring back the Cylon, rather than a human?"

"No, sir."

"Even though the Shield Captain's decision meant one more human was left behind to die?"

"They were already dead. There were eighty of them, Councillor. We couldn't bring back eighty dead people."

"And so you blew them up," murmured Jethric. He glanced at Adama. "Or rather, Shield Captain Apollo did."

Van just nodded. "They were dead," she repeated. "There was nothing else to be done."

She glanced at Apollo when it was all over, a look of pity and comprehension. She nodded to him as she passed on her way out, indicating her support as far as she could in the circumstances. Apollo nodded back, took a deep breath, and straightened up, looking the Board members in the eye. He was beckoned forward. The chair seemed to be parsecs away. His knees were shaking by the time he got to it and he sat down rather hard, breathing a little too heavily.

"And now we come to you," said the President. "You are, after all, the reason we're here. We'll take my lecture on secrecy as read, shall we? Your security rating is as high as anyone's here." He glanced up to smile at Apollo, a smile that made Apollo sit a little lower in the chair, hunching his shoulders. "Although we'll administer the usual oaths – "

Apollo straightened up and at the President's nod, slowly put his right hand over his heart and taking as his witness a God in Whom he had only a residue of his childhood faith, he affirmed that he would tell only the truth and nothing but the truth.

The President started off. "Have you anything to add to the accounts we've already had of the initial briefing session?"

Apollo swallowed, trying to get some moisture into his throat, remembering his father's instructions. After a micron's consideration, he said, "It all accords with my memory, sir, except for one thing. Captain Illych mentioned the short conversation he and I had with Commander Cain over lunch. He reported the Commander's reactions—"

"He said that the Commander was excited at the prospect of taking the action to the enemy."

"Yes sir. There was a little more. The Commander was agitated about what he seemed to see as inaction... at what he perceived as an unwillingness to risk direct engagement with the enemy. He didn't say so in terms, but that's what he meant."

"What terms did he use, then?" asked Jethric, sounding... what? Indifferent? Dismissive? Definitely hostile.

"He was a little scathing about the political reluctance to prosecute the war to its fullest, envious about Shield's role in proactive missions, sir. He was very excited by the prospect of this job. It's something I picked up on later."

"As we will, too," said the President. "To keep in sequence - did you remark on Commander Cain's unusual reactions?"

"It wasn't that it was really that unusual, sir. The Commander's an old family friend and I'm pretty familiar with him. What he said wasn't unusual. I was just struck with the intensity and energy with which he said it. Even for him, it was vehement. I put it down to his recent bereavement."

"The bereavement that left him with no ties back here in the Colonies," observed Lady Beatrice.

Apollo glanced at her, appreciatively. "Yes, Ma'am." He added, "I thought the emotion, the intensity, was due to that and forgot about it. There were other, more pressing and important things to worry about, and there didn't really seem to be anything in it. Except with the benefit of hindsight, of course."

"Hindsight that is distorting your interpretation of your recollection now?" asked Jethric in the silky voice that Apollo was beginning to hate.

"I don't believe so, sir," he said, keeping his tone as flat as he could.

Jethric stared down his nose—it was certainly long enough, thought Apollo, unkindly—and turned away when Apollo stared back.

"Did his mood continue?" asked the President.

"No, sir. The private briefing he got when the other captains were dismissed, was pretty sobering." Apollo glanced at the President for a hint about how much he should say.

"Not yet, Captain. We'll come back to the content of the briefing later. We're all familiar with the papers you put to the Intelligence Committee and the Council earlier this yahren. Just run through the journey out to the Pegasus and what happened up until the point you for the Dhow. Any other little nuggets that may demonstrate Commander Cain's psychological... er... position will be useful, if you have evidence for it."

And then they picked over his memory like ravens feasting on a particularly juicy corpse. Every single thing he could remember was pulled out, shaken up and dissected: Cain's uncharacteristic quiet distraction on the shuttle out, the increasing excitement when they reached the Pegasus, the uncomfortable (for Apollo) atmosphere on the battlestar, his increasing unease at the veneration in which Cain was held by his crew.

"I take it that you're too familiar with commanders to hold them in the same respect," said Jethric, in the same tone that had annoyed Apollo previously with its faint air of scorn. Snide, that was it. The man was snide. And it was with the same snide expression that he was now looking at Adama.

Apollo looked, too, and permitted himself a smile. "I respect them, sir, but I grew up with way too many of them around for me to genuflect every time I see one."

Adama rolled his eyes and smiled back.

"Then you are a remarkably privileged young man," sniped the Councillor.

"I know it, sir."

And then his recollection of the approaches made to him on the Pegasus went through the same dissective process. Apollo was honest about his own obtuseness. "Everything they said could be interpreted solely as interest in Shield. The other services don't see a lot of us and – well, they tend to have a bit of a romanticised view of what we do. When I thought about it later, I realised that those conversations could just as easily have been attempts to sound me out about my willingness to join them. I didn't see it at the time."

"This is astonishing! This is Commander Cain that we're talking about. Cain! Are you seriously suggesting that this was a deliberate act of desertion by one of our most respected warriors?"

"I don't know, sir."

"You don't know? You throw out accusations like this and you don't know?"

"I haven't made any accusations."

"Then what the Hades are you suggesting?"

"I don't know what reason Commander Cain took the Pegasus off-station, sir and I'm not presuming to guess."

"Yes, you are! That's exactly what you're doing, impugning one of Colonies' greatest warriors!"

"Sir, all I am suggesting is that the actions of more than one of the Commander's officers may be construed as an approach to me, sir. That's all I've said."

"Pure speculation," snapped Jethric.

"Yes, sir, of course it is. I don't think I implied otherwise. I don't know if that's what they were trying to do or if it was nothing more than the usual curiosity about how Shield works. It's only significant in light of what happened at Molecay."

"We don't know what happened at Molecay, Shield Captain, other than you lost us a battlestar!"

Apollo stared, his face burning.

"Rather pre-judging the outcome, Councillor," said Jak, mildly enough.

Jethric huffed impatiently. "I'm aware of your partiality and blind spots, Supreme Commander."

Jak smiled. "Such mutual understanding is very rewarding."

"Gentlemen," said the President, very quietly. As soon as the Inquiry Board had recovered its equanimity, he turned to Apollo. "You had no such hints from Commander Cain himself?"

"No, sir."

"You're very certain."

"I am, sir. I've considered it a great deal since Molecay, going over every conversation I had with the Commander. While I'm still uncertain about the approaches from his officers, I'm very sure he did not attempt to recruit me personally."

"That must be a blow to the ego," said Jethric. "And it blows a hole the size of the Pegasus in this farrago of nonsense."

Apollo let his mouth tighten and relax again, all the stress relief he could allow himself in the circumstances. "As you said, sir, we're speculating."

"I don't appreciate speculation about the probity and reputation about our greatest commander, Shield Captain, no matter how old a family friend he may be."

Apollo let his mouth tighten up again. He didn't know what to say. A childish, 'But my Dad's better and he'd never, ever, do what Cain did' wasn't going to help matters much. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Adama, looking for a clue. His father looked sombre.

Lady Beatrice cut in, smoothly, "The Shield Captain's views on Commander Cain's behaviour seem pretty germane to me, Jethric."

"His 'views' are insulting!"

"A little less than complete veneration, I'll grant you."

"He's my father's friend," said Apollo. "I have no reason to insult him."

"Except to cover up the extent of your culpability on Molecay, perhaps?"

It was hard to get the words out, given how hard his mouth was set. He had to force himself to unclench his fingers from the fists they were curling into, to relax shoulder muscles so tense that his neck was beginning to ache. He glanced at his father. Adama shook his head, quickly.

"I know exactly what I'm responsible for on Molecay," said Apollo, and for an instant he lost sight of the Board, and saw fireflies and wide blue eyes that held no life behind them.

Beatrice struck in again, before Jethric could be snide about it being the Board's job to decide the level of his responsibility and culpability, not for him. But that was one thing no-one other than he could decide. No-one.

Beatrice looked up from her papers. "Shield Captain, please tell me about the final briefing session on Pegasus and then can you cut to the point at which you spoke to Cain when you were in the base on Molecay."

Apollo nodded, grateful for the respite from Jethric's hostility. "There was nothing unusual in the briefing, not that I noticed. The Commander was pretty businesslike, really."

"Not as excited as you'd noticed previously?"

"It was more focused. He was looking forward to it."

"You weren't."

"No, Ma'am. I was more apprehensive than anticipatory. We went over the plan again, I said my goodbyes and went to the Dhow. I wasn't expecting to see him until it was all over. I would be rejoining them then. We'd planned on bringing the… the material back on the Pegasus."

"We'll come back to the factory on Molecay in a moment or two," said Martens, who seemed to be doing some sort of double act with Beatrice. "But I want to know what you told Commander Cain, once you were on the surface."

"I called him as soon as we'd secured the base and I'd had time to look at the facility. I told him it was Code Chimera."

"Personally?"

"Yes, Ma'am. He answered the call personally and he acknowledged. I mean, he knew what it meant. He said he'd tell me when they were in geo-stationary orbit, and that's the last I heard from him." Apollo paused, glanced at his father, and thought the hell with it. He was going to say it. "It wasn't like it was so very complicated, what the Pegasus needed to do. Clear the skies, provide me with a Viper escort to get the prisoners and the samples out, get everything home in one piece. He chose not to do that."

He caught a glimpse of his father's grimace and the rapid, warning headshake.

"Are you suggesting that Commander Cain resented playing escort?" asked Martens, mildly, but there was a warning in her usually cool eyes as well.

"He just wasn't there, Ma'am. My escort home turned out to be neither mine nor an escort. He wasn't there." Apollo saw the second parental grimace, and got himself back on track. "Whatever the reason, whatever took him away."

She nodded and let it go. With a promise (a threat?) that they'd come back to the factory and its contents and dissect Apollo's actions there later—"Reprehensible though they may be," snorted Jethric, audibly—Jak took over then. He focused on the destruction of Molecay before going over the same ground he'd taken with Illych, so that Apollo confirmed the ion trace on the scanners, and even finished up with the same question. What did the Shield Captain think had happened to make the Commander take the Pegasus off-station?

"I don't know," said Apollo. "You can see from the tapes that there wasn't anything that the Hertford's scanners could pick up. Of course, Illych's scanner and isometrics arrays aren't as powerful as a battlestar's, but the Hertford should have been able to detect anything within the system, or the adjacent systems, that posed an immediate threat. If Cain saw it, we should have seen it, or it was just too far away to be a real danger and should have been ignored. There wasn't anything that we could see. Whatever took Cain away just wasn't visible. As for where he was right then, when we were searching for him." Apollo brooded for a centon. In hyperspace, half-way to the next base over, probably, taking his war to the enemy. But he shrugged without voicing it, mindful of Adama's (very sound) advice. "I don't know, sir," he said, tired.

"And your reasons for not searching and waiting longer?"

"I had a job to do, sir. I needed to get those people back, I definitely needed to get those samples back, and the longer we sat there, the more vulnerable we were. We were sitting ducks. One destroyer and one Shield ship wouldn't be enough to hold them off. They'd roll right over us."

"But surely that was what Cain had left to prevent?" sniped Jethric.

Tired as he was, Apollo wasn't falling into that trap. "I have no idea why he left, sir. Only Commander Cain knows that."

"And with such reduced defensive firepower, it must have been a nervous journey back," commented the President.

"Very nervous, sir," said Apollo, with complete and unmistakable sincerity.

And finally the ravens had finished feasting on the corpse. Ravens were big birds, heavy birds, and powerful. They had to flap heavily to get off the ground but they did it, wheeling away, tired of the monotony of the thin flesh on dried bones. Apollo said so to Felix, quietly, when he and Felix were finally sent out of the room – no need for either of them to sign a Declaration given their security ratings, said the President with a geniality that made Apollo's skin crawl with apprehension - and the Board members were left to argue amongst themselves until they came to a decision on how much blame to pin onto him.

"You always need carrion eaters," said Felix, following him into the room where the others were waiting, more or less patiently, according to their natures. "They're a necessary part of the eco-system."

"Not when it's my eyes they're pecking out," said Apollo. "Not then."




Only a couple of centars, that's all it had been. Just over. Adama tilted his wrist to glance again at the chronometer, faintly surprised. It had felt a lot longer. It never did when he was on what Apollo had called the safe side of the table - time flew, then, while you asked your questions and sifted the evidence and made your judgement – but it had crawled slowly and painfully while he watched Councillor Jethric try to crucify his son.

"He did all right," said Benton, the Leonid Councillor beside him. "It's a pity he let Jethric needle him, but I suppose it can be hard to deflect that. Jeth's an old hand at the game and I'd expect him to score a few hits. Your son's not used to fighting that sort of war."

"Apollo knows that it's mostly aimed at me." Adama watched the Board's discussions. They were talking quietly, and he couldn't make out more than a word or two. "I'd warned him." He turned to smile at Benton, adding, "He despises politics."

"And he despises politicians. So did Cain, of course." Benton chuckled. "I can just imagine what he really said about what was it Apollo called it? The political unwillingness to prosecute war to the fullest?"

"Something like that."

"Yes. I can imagine that, and so can they."

Adar turned and caught Adama's gaze, and nodded. "We may as well make this a general discussion," he said and brought the Board across to fill some of the empty spaces around Adama and the others. When the little game of musical chairs was done, he resumed, "I don't think there's any doubt at all but that Cain left of his own volition. There was no debris, nothing but the ion trail out of the system. Pegasus wasn't destroyed, she was taken away. Adama, just how accurate is your son's impression of the Pegasus likely to be?"

"Apollo's usually less good at reading people than he is at understanding more abstract principles," said Adama, choosing his words carefully. "But he's no fool. I've no doubt that the atmosphere was one he wouldn't be comfortable with and he's analysed it carefully in the light of Molecay. We'll likely never know if those conversations he told us about were as ambiguous as he now thinks, but the very fact that the Pegasus isn't here is suggestive."

Martens nodded. "And the Shield Captain was the only person on the Pegasus who truly understood what it's like to operate behind enemy lines. That experience would be invaluable if Cain really has decided to take the war to the enemy." She smiled at Adama. "I really do want him back in a yahren, you know. He's Shield, through and through."

Adama merely smiled a response. He thoroughly understood - and appreciated – the implicit compliment, but he'd be doing his damndest over the coming yahren to persuade Apollo to transfer out of the backwater that was the Shield regiment. Apollo would never achieve his full potential trapped there. Adama wasn't prepared to allow that to happen, not without a fight.

"Oh, let's cut this short," said Jethric. "We all know that Cain took off, for whatever reason. We all know that." He grinned tightly at Adama. "And we all know that there wasn't very much the Shield Captain could have done to stop it. The point is that Cain's… initiative, shall we say?... Cain's initiative is putting my cousin and his mission at risk. Negotiations were delicate enough before we had a rogue battlestar roaming behind enemy lines out of our control. We have no way of getting Cain back and that's what's concerning me. He could jeopardise Baltar's entire mission and what we hope will flow from it."

Adama's mouth tightened to hold back the words. He disliked almost every Piscean he'd ever met. They were money-grubbing, opportunistic chancers, every single one of them. In his more measured moments, Adama could admit that his views were a trifle coloured by an Academy experience when for the first time he'd come across someone whose methods weren't exactly models of probity and who just happened to be Piscean, but the fact remained that they were the very last people to whom he'd have trusted the fate of the Colonies. It wasn't bias, of course, but experience that had brought him to that conclusion. He'd been outvoted on the particular issue of Count Baltar's mission, although he'd made his opposition clear—almost certainly the source of Jethric's hostility to Apollo. The man was certainly petty enough.

"Count Baltar strikes me as a resourceful man," he said, when he had called upon all the calm he could muster and thinking, grimly, that he was far gone in the political mire when he could make an inoffensive word so laden with offensive meaning.

"And Cain a remarkably self-absorbed one," snapped Jethric. "I didn't want this mission to go ahead in the first place, you all know that. I always thought it had the potential to endanger my cousin's work."

"We can only pray that it won't," said the President. "But this isn't the place to discuss that." He rubbed at his eyes. "Indeed, we've done very little else but discuss that for several days now. What we have to decide here, now, is how we'll deal, publicly, with the loss of the Pegasus. The news can't be concealed for ever. I don't think that the public will be able to stomach Cain's... unauthorised action, shall we say? NBor can we even begin to contemplate telling them what Molecay truly was. Not unless we want complete panic with all the unfortunate political consequences that panic usually brings in its wake."

"What, then? A modified tale?"

"Yes, Jeth. A modified tale. The story will be as follows. The Pegasus led a rescue mission to Molecay when we became aware of prisoners there. With his usual courage and tenacity, Commander Cain ensured the success of the rescue and went to deal with a threat to the mission – unspecified, but I'm sure the media office people can polish this up – and contact with the Pegasus was lost in the ensuing battle. The other ships, taking advantage of the confusion, slipped away and got the prisoners home. The people can remain blissfully secure that their hero remains just that, the press will most likely concentrate on Cain and we can gloss over the prisoners. If the question's ever raised, they're in quarantine. We can play that element out until the interest dies down, and it's yesterday's story. If we're lucky."

Lucky? Adama smiled. There would be very little luck in the way that Adar manipulated the media coverage, and a great deal of sharp political and social awareness. The man would pull this off. Damage containment was the name of today's game, and Adar was a master at managing a crisis down until it was little more than a gnat's bite of an irritation.

"So Cain's heroic reputation is left intact." said Beatrice, frowning.

"Our people need heroes," said Benton, quietly.

"And so we manufacture them?" The Cancerian Councillor, Lloyd, frowned as deeply as Beatrice. "Pity the society that needs to have its heroes manufactured for it."

"No," said Adama, knowing this story would infuriate Apollo, not least because of the implication that he sneaked away while the Pegasus fought bravely, but also knowing that it would, in media terms, work. "Pity the society that needs them at all."

Jethric snorted. "And I suppose your golden boy gets away without so much as a reprimand?" he said to Jak.

"On what basis would we be reprimanding him?"

"How about losing us a battlestar and putting the peace process in jeopardy?"

"I'll put a notation on his file, if you like," said Jak.

Jethric grunted.

"And on mine, and Martens' and yours and the President's. We all agreed to this."

"Yes, we did," said the President. "We did." He rubbed at his forehead. "A battlestar. We lost an entire battlestar. Sometimes the magnitude of that is overwhelming. What a disaster! I'd question whether the price was worth the intelligence Shield Captain Apollo brought back, whether it's a price we can afford to pay."

"I don't know," said Jak. "I just know that we couldn't afford not to know what he found there. The implications of that are equally overwhelming."

The President nodded. "Yes. Well, then, a notation on his file that says the mission was not exactly a complete success since it cost us a battlestar. A grey mark, Supreme Commander, if not exactly a black one." He looked at Jethric and Adama. "And that's final, gentlemen. You'll neither of you get anything better." He waited, nodded again at their silent acquiescence. "Good. Let's get this charade over with, have some lunch and then start on the real work with a preliminary meeting of the Intelligence Committee. You won't be staying around for that, I assume, Adama?"

Adama could take a hint. He agreed, quietly, that he'd take himself off as soon as proceedings were over and watched as the Board returned to the table, and the witnesses were all called in to be told the outcome and ordered to get the story straight or the Board would know the reason why, no excuses and no exceptions.

Watching, he realised why Apollo so rarely played Pyramid. The boy had no game face. No game face at all. There wasn't a politician there who wouldn't have worked out that Apollo despised them every bit as much as Cain had. He reflected on that, his eyes on Apollo's face, feeling a kind of loving exasperation at Apollo's inability to dissemble. No, there was no doubt that Apollo despised them as much as Cain had.

If not more.




"Oh, that went well!"

"As well as we could expect. It was a reasonable outcome -"

"Reasonable? Reasonable! I'm accused of running away while Cain-the-Glorious nobly gives up his life to protect us and you think that's reasonable?"

"Calm down, Apollo. You've not been accused of anything."

"No? It sure as hell feels like it!"

Adama took a deep, silent breath. The loving exasperation he'd felt a few centons earlier was fast losing its adjective. "Be reasonable. This is a good outcome."

"They think I'm a coward," Apollo hissed at him.

"Of course they don't! Don't be stupid."

"And a little less drama queen would be good," remarked the Supreme Commander, from behind them.

Apollo spun around to face Jak. "Did you know—sir?"

Jak's expression darkened. "Did I know what?"

"That he would do something like this? You said I was to go out on the Pegasus. No playing on the Dhow, you said. Did you know?"

"Apollo!"

"I am not answerable to you, Shield Captain."

Adama caught hold of Apollo's arm. "You listen to me. This is not about you! There are bigger stakes at risk than your wounded pride, and you'll grin and bear this, because there's nothing else to be done—"

"It's a lie!"

"It's necessary. Think about it, for God's sake. You're supposed to be the smart one, remember? We can't announce the loss of the Pegasus in any other way and not spark off a panic. It's necessary."

Apollo scowled, a dull flush on the high cheekbones he'd inherited from Ila. "There was a time you would never say that matters more than the truth!"

"There was a time when I thought everything was black and white too, but I grew up. It's time you did. Now, you will apologise to the Supreme Commander and then you can go and join Captain Felix and in a couple of centons I'll take the pair of you to lunch and you can get yourself sorted out, because if you're this emotional and naïve when the Committee starts on you this afternoon they'll tear you apart, and by God, you'll deserve that they do." He gave his wide-eyed son a little shake. "Do you understand?"

Apollo nodded, the flush deepening. He glanced at the Supreme Commander. "Sorry, sir," he said, stiffly.

Jak nodded, eyes icy.

"Go and join Felix. I'll be over shortly."

They watched him go. He looked rather stunned.

"He's pretty rattled by all of this," said Jak, thoughtfully.

"Yes."

"I'll admit to being impressed by the various techniques you're using to get him out of it."

Adama smiled. Jak had already been snidely amused by the supportive father act. "Being married to Ila for thirty yahrens, some of it has to rub off on me. She's more subtle, though. I don't have her delicacy of touch."

"She wouldn't get angry with him, I take it," said Jak, and the amusement was back.

"No. It's not her style," said Adama, thinking of the Kobolian Library, so many yahrens ago and knowing Ila wouldn't have been angry then, either. "Just mine. You're right that it's hitting him hard, what he found down there, but that doesn't excuse his rudeness."

"He reminds me of a certain officer who served on my ship, many yahrens ago."

"I was never that naïve!" Adama met the amused blue eyes, and smiled, reluctantly. "Oh."

"Indeed. Oh. You grew out of it and he will, too. Although he seems to have no political sense at all."

"He has it," said Adama. "He just chooses not to use it. He needed to be reminded about the real world, that's all."

"Then I should think the next yahren will be invigorating for both of you." Jak turned to watch Apollo and Felix. "He's right, you know. I did think that something was up with Cain."

Adama hitched up an eyebrow. "What?"

"I don't know. I just felt uneasy, as uneasy as Apollo felt, and just as unable to work out why." Jak glanced at him. "You didn't see Cain after Bethany died?"

"Not since last Graduation Day."

"Well, you knew him best. Maybe you'd have been able to put your finger on it."

"Maybe." Adama forced a faint smile as Jethric passed them.

"Dear me," said the Councillor. "A little familial dissent?"

Angry as he and Apollo had been, they'd both kept their voices low. Jethric couldn't have heard what they were saying, but Adama supposed that the general aggressive stance couldn't be mistaken.

"Not at all," he said, mildly, and made the smile widen. His Council colleague laughed and passed on. Adama glared at the Piscean's back for a micron before returning his attention to Jak. "Tell me again why you wanted me on the Council?"

"I needed one honest man in politics," said Jak promptly.

Adama glanced over to Apollo. His son's angry gaze met his. "I don't think Apollo believes any more that I qualify."

"And what do you think?"

Adama shook his head. "I don't know."