There were those who beleived that a millenia of warfare had taken its toll on the Cylon economy. Even the Cylons would fall under the laws of economics at some point, and the attrition of vital materials, machinery, and experienced crews would take its toll.

And some of the talk I was hearing wAs sjupremely interesting. I had heard much of it before as rumors or through back channels. But somehow it sounded a lot more relevant coming fromthje real Warriors.     Most interesting to me were the speculations as to why our ancient enemies, the Cylons, were abiding by a cease-fire, even if unofficial, and even if temporary.

There had been seminars which stressed the need for better cooperation between Registrations and the Services. In particular sincde the piracey and smugglinjg was so rampant. so I was following the Directive. And besides, as the saying goes, "When in the Provincial Capital, make yourself useful."

And of course, as I brought the libations back, I received requests for various bread-meat combinations and other refreshments. I even got to light a few fumarillos, some of which even had revenue bands.

"No problem," I said, trying to keep a straight face. The stage always needed that secondary character who slips on the peel-fruit, or takes the chiffon-pie to the face, or gets squirted with the pfizzer-bottle. Tonight was my night.

Not much had happened since play was in the opening round. but Starbuck motions me over, "Say Scurridae, hate to impose, but the guys here ordered a round of beverages but don't want to leave their hands just now, could you?"

All of this changes shortly after Starbuck raises an arm and calls me over to the Pyramid Table.I suppose people were willing to concede that even someone from Internal Registrations had the right to at least watch when it was their cubits at stake.

A few distracted, nearly hostile stares were directed my way. Apparently, there were those who were familiar with the slate-gray vestures of Internal Registrations. But everything had been on pretty short notice.

The 'relaxation session' was well under way by the time I entered the Rec Lounge. The aroma of various elixirs and stale smoke hit me the moment I stepped in. I coughed.

So I close my office, er cubicle. I got things back inorder as best I coulod. I did take a moment to straighten up my blanket on what passes for my cot. It wasn't much of a cubicle, but it was my cubicle.   I tried to lock things down as close to standards as I could. After I had lent my moneybelt to Starbuck and sent the paperwork bearing Colonel Tigh's signature to secure locations, there was very little left in my cubicle that wasn't second-hand ships stores.