Gaius Baltar

The dinner table was elegantly set. A broad white silk cloth with an intricate pattern that looked somewhat like the club logo, which was a silver dragon rampant. The finest china and silverware dotted the table at precise intervals and were lit by the glow of what appeared to be candles in golden candelabras. The lights had been dimmed and some sort of presentation was taking place on the main stage. I took a moment to reflect on my rapid transition from a beer stained bar back to sitting here ...