Battlestar Galactica (RDM) names, characters and all related indicia are the property of Ron D. Moore, Universal Studios and Sky One. All rights reserved.

Forbidden Planet indicia are the property of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Incorporated.

The author (me) does not profit from the above. Only the indicia not in either of the shows/films are my property and requires permission for use by other people.

Enjoy.

Starbuck woke up. She looked around to see that she was still falling into the gas giant's maelstrom. Grateful to the Leoben-likeness for being there at her mother's death, she continued to drop into the planet and chase the Cylon Heavy Raider image. She could see that the planet's hard deck, the cloud boundary where her Viper would be crushed, was coming up.

Lightning roiled in the clouds around her. She remembered how she had repeatedly fled death. She remembered how she sought death in chasing Scar down. The difference here was that she sought death because of her despair over the belief that Sam Anders was dead back on Caprica. This time, she was ready to embrace death because she saw a new beginning in it.

She remembered the not-Leoben saying, "See, there's nothing terrible about death when you finally face it. It's beautiful. You're free now, to become who you really are."

She was ready to take the next step into the space between life and death as the not-Leoben put it. This was what her mother had been preparing her for through all the abuse arising from her tough love. This was what had been with Kara ever since that mandala came to her. The mandala was the supernova that pointed the way to Earth. It was also the image of this planet's maelstrom. The image of her death.

The circle was closing.

The Heavy Raider appeared briefly in the dark roiling clouds and the flashes of lightning before vanishing into the clouds in front of her. Apollo was still chasing Starbuck. She finally called calmly out to him, "Lee, I'll see you on the other side."

She could hear him telling her to wave off, to pull up away from the hard deck. Eyes wet with the peace she had never felt before, she whispered to Lee, "Just let me go."

White light filled her cockpit. Starbuck smiled peacefully and closed her eyes as she basked in the warm welcoming white light. Once more, she was the little girl named Kara Thrace.

Her Viper was being thrown about even more violently as it reached the point of no return. The hull groaned and cracked as the gas giant's atmospheric pressure began to crush her ship. Kara didn't care. She was ready.

Her Viper finally exploded.

o0o

Kara floated above the burning remnants of the explosion. She could see Apollo's Viper swerving to avoid the hard deck and turning back to the Galactica. Kara felt like smiling with love. It wasn't time for Lee to make the step even though he must love her enough to follow her in the crossing over. She had a sense of overwhelming love and peace. The light that filled her cockpit was still shining on her. It seemed to have no source. As she went into the light, it seemed that she saw five shining figures covered in bright white hooded robes. An unfelt breeze ruffled the hoods and robes.

The five figures stared at her in silence. The bright white glow of their hooded robes obscured their faces. Kara thought that they were the judges of the Underworld and the Lords of Kobol. Three would be the judges while two of them would be the witnesses who are the Lords that each person is dedicated to. So two of the figures must be Aphrodite and Artemis, Kara's patron gods, and they would testify for or against her.

All this has happened before and all this will happen again.

She was ready.

Then Kara felt herself being tugged away from the five Lords. She didn't want to go. The wonder and warmth of the five was awe-inspiring. As she went away from the shining white-robed figures, the light faded and Kara seemed to pass out.

Kara Thrace woke up. She looked around to see where she was now. The gas giant's maelstrom was gone. Instead, she was on the floor of a small metallic room with circles of white light set in regular intervals on the walls and ceiling. A glowing red strip was on one wall, facing the opposite wall which clearly contained a large door or hatch. A point of greater red glow tracked slowly down the strip back and forth. She looked down at herself. She was wearing her spacesuit which was heavily singed now. Leoben was kneeling at her side.

o0o

"So you're here too," chuckled Kara.

"All this has happened before and it will happen again," intoned Leoben, leering at her.

Kara realized that the feeling of intense love and peace was now diminished. She didn't feel dead. She also realized that this Leoben was not the guide in her vision but an actual Cylon. "Is this…the afterlife?"

It was Leoben's turn to laugh. He held up a small metallic device with control buttons. It appeared to be two rods intertwined at right angles through their middle. All of the resulting arms were equal lengthwise except for one arm which was longer than the others. "We could thank God for your resurrection. But really, we should thank God for Cylon technology. A simple application to the chest over the heart is all it takes, my dear."

It was then that she glimpsed a spacesuit tossed into a corner behind Leoben. "Frak…," Kara breathed. She realized that this Leoben was really a Cylon, not the Leoben-alike of her visions. She so wanted to go past the five figures into the Underworld and know peace forever. This must be what the not-Leoben meant by discovering the space between life and death. And if she's a prisoner of the Cylons, she'd never be able to achieve her destiny. Socrata Thrace, her mother, had prepared her for that. Dying helped her realize that. Angered by the robbery of her afterlife and of her destiny, Kara seized the device. Leoben was caught off guard. He was expecting her to still be weak from the revival. With the resurrection device's long arm, Kara stabbed Leoben in the heart.

Gasping in pain and surprise, Leoben turned his eyes toward one of the glowing red strips in the walls. "Jump," he said.

Kara realized that it was a command. If this was the heavy raider she had seen in the gas giant, perhaps it had a similar self-awareness that Cylon raiders had. Leoben likely wanted the heavy raider to jump as close to a Resurrection Ship as possible for his own survival. Though Kara embraced death, she still harbored hostility toward Cylons. If she didn't do anything, she'd be among those Cylons. And once she was, Colonials would die because of her. Her destiny would be sidetracked.

She yanked the device out of Leoben, causing him to gasp in pain as he was dying.

"Kara…," he managed to gasp out.

Kara turned to face the red glowing strip, ignoring Leoben. They reminded her of the Cylon Centurion's eye. Perhaps through the red tracking eye, she could affect the heavy raider.

She stabbed the red strip with the device. When it didn't seem to do anything except darkening a small part of the strip, she frantically pressed all of the buttons on the device. Immediately, electrical discharges arced from the device through the red strip. Ah, this must be how Leoben resuscitated her.

At that moment, the heavy raider was making its calculations for an FTL jump to the nearest Cylon presence. This was disrupted by Kara's action. She felt the familiar feeling of reality being momentarily turned inside-out as the ship jumped beyond its Red Line in an unintended direction.

Elsewhere

"I must have a new dress."

"Again?"

"Oh, Robby, I packed so little! There was so little time when…when—" The beautiful young blonde woman's eyes swam at the memory of a beloved father dying and their beloved world vanishing in a bright white flash. She was about to cry.

The robot said, "Miss, it has been nine days since we went out of Altair 4. Surely, you understood the length of this journey? I have monitored it to be 369 days before we reach Earth."

Altaira was now closer to crying. Sniffing, she reminded herself that Robby was a robot. He was programmed with all the needed information about the human condition, including emotions and trauma, but in the end he was just a robot. "Please, Robby?"

The gyroscopic spheres made their orbit in Robby's transparent head as he seemed to study her for a while. "Very well, Miss. I shall randomly select a dress from my memory bank. It will be ready for you in the morning."

"Thank you, Robby." With that, Altaira hugged the robot and went into the cabin that was once the captain's but was loaned to her for modesty's sake for the duration of the voyage.

"See that, Skipper?"

Commander John J. Adams knew that the bosun Randall, and acting Executive Officer, was referring to the interaction between Alta and Robby. "Yes. For nineteen years, she knew only her father and her animal friends on Altair 4. Now all that's gone. She only has us." As he watched the robot amble over to helms station, he amended, "And Robby, of course."

"Yes, sir. Can't imagine that myself. Still, we lost four men back there."

"We still have friends and colleagues in the crew."

"Yes, sir."

Adams felt the loss of these men keenly. Doc Ostrow and Jerry Farman were the closest to what he'd gladly call friends. He thought out loud, "She'll be stuck with us for over a year on this ship. Alta had an entire world to herself and now…." He turned to Randall and ordered, "Accelerate to 20c."

"Sir!" Randall was shocked. "That'll burn out the drive after 10 light years! You're worried about spending a whole 'nother year? We'd be stranded in space forever!"

"Not if we punch out a course to 61 Cygni."

Suddenly nervous, the bosun inquired, "The colony at Carillon?"

"I think it would do Alta a lot of good to practice her social skills before going to Earth. It'll keep things interesting."

"Umm." Randall shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "You sure 'bout that, Skipper? Carillon is a negro-ethnic colony."

Adams frowned. He knew about that, of course. The last global war was two centuries ago, though the ethnic strife that had its high point in the Second World War's Negro and Jewish Holocausts rippled beyond the Third World War. He idly wondered what humanity would be like without Jake Featherston, the last Confederate president and the author of the Negro Holocaust.

"Yes, I'm sure of that, bosun." Actually, Adams wasn't entirely sure. Still, Alta was innocent, even naïve if he could call her that in spite of all her education at Altair 4. Perhaps he could still protect her innocence while at Carillon.

When the bosun relayed the captain's order to the current helmsman, Robby said, "At that speed, Lieutenant, we will cover the 9.8 light years to the 61 Cygni star system in 178 days and 20 hours."

"Well!" commented James Dirocco, the ship's cook. "A bootlegger, an astrogator, a maid, a cook, and a math whiz all in one! If Earth could make more robots like it, we'd all be out of a job!"

Robby turned to look at Dirocco, gyroscopic spheres orbiting inside its head. Lights flashed in its 'mouth' as it said dryly, "Perhaps, sir, you will still assist me with oil-jobs."

Adams stifled a laugh at that. Meanwhile, Randall picked up the mike at the helms station and announced, "Attention. Bosun to crew. We will make a course change in three minutes. Stow away all breakable gear immediately. In two minutes, all hands square away to decelerate and accelerate. That is all."

"I'm setting the D.C. and A.C. fixes, Skipper," informed Randall helpfully.

Robby ambled up to Adams. "Sir, I have monitored myself to be capable of enduring the conditions of deceleration and acceleration outside the D.C. stations. I can man the helms station for the duration that you are in suspension."

Some of the crewmen who were in earshot turned to look at their captain. They knew that allowing Robby to take over meant putting all of their lives under control of a robot, something that they weren't entirely comfortable with.

The commander shared some of that sentiment. However, Robby has proven its loyalty to its human masters even if Alta likely took precedence over everyone else in the robot's view. Since Altaira would have to be in the D.C. stations with the rest of the crew to avoid injury or worse during the drop and jump through the light barrier, Robby would have to take as good care of everyone as if all were Alta. "All right. Take it away."

A few of the crewmen's lips pressed in thin lines, showing their silent disagreement. But they would acquiesce because Adams was their commander. Robby took its seat at the helms station. Soon, its scanning loops set to spinning at the 'temples' as it linked himself into the ship's computer system.

Altaira came out of her cabin. Adams raised an eyebrow. She had changed into that long white gown with emerald necklaces. "John, do we have to be in…there?" Her eyes went over to the D.C. stations with distaste.

Smiling gently and understandingly, Adams pointed out softly, "If you don't fancy possibly dying, yes."

She gazed up at the commander with trusting eyes. "All right. If only we could have something better than this."

"All hands, D.C. stations, on the double," announced Randall into the mike.

The crew scrambled into the D.C. area from all over the ship, including the upper deck. Alta held Adams' hand for a while before stepping up to one of the round platforms beside his. She took a quick deep breath as the green glow of the suspension force field covered her and the crewmen on the platforms. The light within the ship went through its spectrum as the cruiser decelerated with Robby at its helm.

Finally, the light shift ceased. Robby's scanning loops spun a little faster as it swiveled its head. It then focused on the occupied D.C. stations. The obscuring green glow of the suspension force fields faded away. The crew and Alta went through the motions of reorienting themselves through their dizziness. Some held onto a wall or crewmate for balance, some covered their eyes and others rubbed their temples or nose bridge.

The captain was the first to speak. "All right, Robby, what's the speed now?"

"We are at .14 of light speed."

That was an unpleasant surprise. "Robby, we're supposed to accelerate back to hyperspeed once we changed course."

Nonplussed, Robby responded, "I have monitored the presence of another vessel in radar-scanner range."

Adams was alarmed. As far as he knew, there wasn't supposed to be any ship in the area. It was too soon for Earth base to send reinforcements after the C-57D. It was too far off the trade and supply route between 61 Cygni and Alpha Centauri. "What is it doing here?"

"I have no data on that," replied Robby.

"Can we see it on the main view-plate?"

"It is close enough for the outboard cameras."

Randall quickly tinkered with the view-plate controls and soon, an image rippled into existence. The vessel was visible in it. It appeared to be covered in chrome more shiny and silvery than the C-57D. It was also much smaller than the 170 feet long starcruiser. A thin line of red light glowed dimly in front of a protrusion on the starboard front of the ship, if that was the front, judging by the reaction engines it seemed to have at the back. Oddly, the protrusion reminded the humans of a head.

Cookie commented, "Looks like a trussed turkey. That is, if robots like to eat metal turkeys."

Adams didn't recognize the vessel. If he didn't recognize it, chances are it wasn't human. It didn't conform to the usual United Planets ship shapes. One word came into his increasingly amazed mind:

Alien.

"Combat stations! Blaster men, activate your scopes!"

As Alta crept up to hold onto Adams' arm for comfort, men scrambled for their battle stations. Throughout it all, Captain Adams watched with wide eyes as the vessel's red glowing light appeared to look back at him.