Major Lee Adama took a deep breath, his hands clasped tightly upon his rifle, attempting to put aside the feelings that distracted him. He tried to bring his focus to the canyon valley in front of him.

In the first place, Lee was aware of the thin line of armed men and women around him. Hidden amongst the brush, the people bridged the canyon valley. Everyone bore a weapon trained down the valley, yet Lee knew far too many of his companions bore weapons for the first time of their lives. He could only trust that the leadership and direction of the man just a few feet to his right, Anders, the heroic resistance fighter and acting second-in-command, would grant some resolve to the civilians-turned-warriors comprising the bulk of the force. Never one to pray, Lee simply pleaded in his mind. Don't break, don't break, stand firm, please don't break.

Other things bothered him: the hot sun, the dust, the dry rocky soil. Dirt and sweat covered his body. Lee knew he stank, felt the grime hardening on his skin. Of course a soldier should expect this sort of situation, but Lee could not remember the last time he endured the grit of ground warfare. He recalled that when in his viper, he felt that nothing ever oppressed him. The air group gave Lee the callsign Apollo for a reason. Like the god, Lee's shots flew straight and true, and he soared through space and sky with effortless grace. But now cast out of the heavens, down onto the arid Algae planet, the god-among-Viper-pilots found himself feeling decisively less than mortal. Lee felt like a worm.

The anxiety of the situation, and the harsh conditions, contributed to the feelings of helplessness. But thinking about Kara made Lee feel the most helpless. Please, again he pleaded to nothing in particular, don't let Kara be dead. Please let her be ok. Oh please, let Dee get to Kara in time.

Lee understood the irony of sending his wife to save his accomplice in adultery. But Dee had been the only one available, the only one not deployed to the vital line of defense. And Kara was too important to Lee, not to mention her husband Anders, to risk sacrificing. So Lee ordered Dee to risk her life and get to Kara by sneaking around the enemy.

The enemy, thought Lee, look to the enemy, to the coming battle. A few more deep breaths and Major Lee Adama regained his composure.

The enemy, an unknown number of Cylon Centurions, was somewhere down the valley, advancing up towards the prize: the Temple. Before the Cylons managed to jam all wireless contact with the planet surface, the Admiral ordered Chief Tyrol to decipher the purpose of the Temple and its contents as quickly as possible. And the Admiral ordered Lee, his own son, to defend Tyrol. As long as possible.

Lee looked to his right and found Anders peering down the valley through binoculars. The attention that the man displayed granted Lee some relief. Anders clearly had put aside any thought of making a mad dash into enemy territory to find his wife. All the more reason Lee could feel less guilty about sending Dee for the rescue.

"Sam, what do you see?" Lee whispered.

"Nothing," replied the guerrilla just as quietly, "For a bunch of fraking chromejobs, they're impossible to see from this position. Taking a look from higher ground might solve our problem."

"They're too close for you too move; they'll likely be upon us in minutes. Can't tell someone else to do it, I'm the only one with a wireless out here. Gotta stay in contact with the Chief."

Anders snorted with a hint of contempt. His behavior did not surprise Lee. Anders used to give orders, now he needed to take them. A difficult adjustment for anyone, but a particularly uncomfortable one for Anders. After all, his new commander had made him a cuckold.

"So what?" Anders whispered again, this time irritated, "We just sit here and wait till the toasters are forcing their guns down our throats?"

"They can't take us by surprise. Dee let us know they are coming. Before she left for her mission she did say the toasters were within two miles of our position. They're not far, we're ready."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever Lee. Just hope that your wife can get back my wife. Otherwise, if the toasters don't hurt you, I certainly will."

Lee clenched his teeth and swallowed his anger, no more time left for arguing. Surely there had been enough arguing exchanged today. Both Anders and Dee had confronted him over the relationship with Kara. In his mind, Lee agreed that they had the right to feel angry.

The whole situation didn't seem fair as Lee turned it over in his mind. Kara and he would frak, then she would fly away in a raptor while he would stay behind, forced to deal with the mounting tensions with Anders and Dee. But the circumstances did not anger Lee so much. They lead to frustrations, but he dealt with them. He would do anything for Kara, and he knew it. Lee laughed to himself. Frak fair, Lee thought, Fair would have meant that from the start Kara and I would be…"

The rattling din of machine gun fire cut his thought short. Again, Lee brought all his senses back to the valley before him. He could vaguely see the glint of metal through the thicketed brush; hear the whiz of bullets around him. The Centurions advanced, their suppressive fire forcing Lee and his force to stay down. A quick glance up and down the line allowed Lee to note the number of fallen so far.

Not too bad, thought Lee, If they can't do much more than this, we can hold this position for awhile. Hell, if they don't bring up any mortars, we could hold this position until nightfall.

Anders clenched a remote switch in his fist. A line of explosions erupted across the valley floor before them, accompanied by the scream of metal bodies tearing to shreds. The Centurion fire slackened as the machines attempted to recover their cohesion. Opportunity presented itself.

"Return fire!" shouted Lee.

The line of defenders released a storm of bullets upon the wild growth before them. Lee heard a few more metal bodies clang into the dirt, twisted shells never to rise again.

Gods damn you for shooting down Kara, you fraking toasters, Lee's blood pumped a battle rage through his body.

"Frakin' bastards wandered into a shooting gallery this time Lee!" yelled Anders.

Anders' welcome roar paled in comparison to the unwelcome boom of the ordnance that suddenly rained down upon Lee's force. Lee could hear screams as the shells struck men and women. He glanced about, trying to discern the origin of the attack.

The canyon ridges. The Heavy Raiders must have dropped mortar crews up there. They used the advance of the chromejobs to force us into giving away our position. We can't even retreat now, they have us pinned. Frak, should have covered those heights even with the shortage of manpower. Frak.

It did not matter that Lee anticipated the Cylon's mortar attack during deployment, what mattered was that his force simply could not have hoped to defend both the canyon passage and the high ground considering the lack of numerical strength. If he had put all his men up on the high ground, one or two of the Centurions would have likely survived well enough to make for the Temple and easily butcher Tyrol's lightly armed team. So Lee had deployed everyone to the valley, hoping that the Cylons would somehow forget the heights, hoping to gain time for Tyrol by sacrificing the high ground. Now he was sacrificing lives too. Lee could hear Anders growling. Whether the man suffered from a wound or frustration, Lee could only guess.

As he clung to the dirt beneath the dry brush, Lee contemplated calling Tyrol, to demand that the Chief send some of his people to dislodge the mortar crews. Something had to be done before the Centurions in the valley reformed their assault. Once that happened, the Cylons could just rush Lee's force and cut them down in a melee.

Lords of Kobol, don't let me die today. Not today. Lee finally began praying. Don't let me die and leave Kara. Kara, my…

The unmistakable report of a sniper rifle echoed across the valley. Once, twice, and then the mortars fell silent. Someone had destroyed the Cylon mortar crews.

The relief that Lee felt quickly subsided as another noise came into his hearing. He heard the rapid, rhythmic clank of metal.

Lee glanced to his right and saw a livid Anders yanking back the trigger of his machine gun.

"Lee, the Cylons!"

A hulking metal Centurion leaped over the bank of earth that separated Lee from Anders. Lee saw the war machine turn to face him. Time seemed to slow. Lee could not breathe, could not bring his gun around. As he gazed into the blazing red eye of the machine, the Centurion drew back its left arm. Lee prepared himself for the rake of the claws that would surely eviscerate him.

The strike did not come. The Centurion suddenly buckled as a shining blade pierced its torso. Then, like a rag doll tossed aside by a child, the machine rose up and flew to the side, out of Lee's vision.

Something new stepped forward to take the place of the Cylon. Lee gasped at the sight. He looked upon what he guessed could only be a full suit of body armor. The form resembled that of a man, save the fact that it towered over even the tallest men Lee could remember. He saw no face, only a reflective visor embedded in a dull, metallic green helmet. In one hand, the immense figure clutched the shining blade that only a moment ago impaled the Centurion. Lee observed the other hand rising up; clasping what looked like a grenade.

What kind of warrior…?

The warrior looked passed Lee, out towards the enemy. In a deep graveled voice that betrayed no emotion, only masculinity, the warrior spoke a command.

"Cover me."

The warrior heaved his grenade. Then, with blade in hand, he charged past Lee to meet the advancing foe.