Battlestar Galactica 14 - Surrender The Galactica!

by Glen A. Larson

  "I heard something," Apollo said. "Did you, Starbuck?"

  "I don't know. I think so."

  Peri looked around nervously, keeping her hand over Boxey's mouth. Muffit, alerted by the struggle, began to yelp angrily.

  "Not you too," Peri said despairingly, "you rusty little—"

  A figure charged suddenly out of the darkness. Peri saw immediately that the man wore the uniform of the Devil's Pit Warrior Elite. "Look what I found," the man said.

  Another soldier strolled out of the shadows. "Told you I heard something."

  "Ah, you're always hearing things."

  "Sure but this time I was right, wasn't I?"

  Peri removed her hand from Boxey's mouth and yelled, "Run, Boxey!"

  Both children started scrambling in different directions, but their moves were made too late and the warriors caught up with them in a few steps. As one grabbed Boxey, Muffit started nipping at his heels, but the soldier kicked the droid away.

  Peri nearly struggled out of her captor's clutches. "Let me go, bozo!"

  "Knew you were a feisty one. Keep quiet, little girl."

  "You let us go," Boxey shouted as the other warrior dragged him to where his cohort struggled with the girl. "My dad's Captain Apollo, my grandfather's the commander."

  "Oh, yeah," the warrior said. "Tell me another one, kid."

  Apollo's voice came clearly through the wall. "Something's going on there, Starbuck. Boxey! Boxey!"

  "Dad!"

  "We better get these tots away from here. Guy on the other side of the wall sounds desperate."

  "I'm following you."

  The two scruffy soldiers dragged the screaming children away, down the long dark corridor. Muffit, confused, followed along. From the other side of the wall, Apollo continued to shout Boxey's name. Even though muffled, Apollo's voice echoed through the now silent tunnel.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Many officers in the lounge thought that Captain Apollo had finally slipped off the deep end. They gaped at the near-hysterical captain as he pounded his fists against the lounge wall, making pictures shake and fall to the floor. Starbuck, aware of the attention his buddy was drawing, wondered if, since he'd also heard Boxey's voice, he had gone bonkers, too.

  "Starbuck!" Apollo yelled. He gave up on the pounding and turned away from the wall. "How can we get through this wall?"

  "Not without a command order, that's for sure."

  "That was Boxey's voice, I'm sure."

  "Maybe."

  "What do you mean, maybe?"

  "It was somebody's voice, and it sounded like a child's, and it'd be easy to imagine it as Boxey's, but I can't be sure."

  "Well, I can."

  Ensign Giles walked up to Apollo's table with his bantam stride. He was a short man, always ready to start or join in a fight. "Ghosts?" he asked the two men who were now leaning their ears against the wall.

  "What?" Starbuck said. "What're you talking about, Giles?"

  "Lotta people've heard voices through these walls. The ghosts of old crew members, pilots who've been shot down and somehow returned to the Galactica, demons—-take your pick."

  Starbuck shrugged off Giles's ominous observations. "That's too superstitious for me."

  "Lotta guys've heard 'em, seen 'em even."

  Apollo glanced irritably at Giles. "Will you guys stop jabbering and figure out a way to get in there and get Boxey out?"

  "Boxey?" Giles said, surprised.

  "It's too complicated to explain," Starbuck remarked.

  Athena, who'd just been told her brother was acting oddly, rushed into the lounge, violently pushing by several of the gawking observers. "What's going on?" she asked when she reached Apollo's table.

  Starbuck spoke quietly, trying to keep his voice calm. "Apollo thinks he heard Boxey's voice on the other side of the wall there."

  Athena's reply surprised Starbuck. "It's possible."

  "Possible?"

  Apollo, hearing encouragement for a change, whirled around to listen to his sister's explanation. His eyes were blazing with eagerness.

  "Have you ever seen the ship's blueprints?" Athena said. "There're tunnels going all through the Galactica. Once they were supply passages but now they're no longer in use for anything. There's one on the other side of that wall."

  Apollo's voice became anxious again. "But how do we get in there? Must be an entrance somewhere."

  "I'm not sure where the nearest entrance is. Many of them have been sealed up. Come with me. We'll try."

  Giles, who was one of the Galactica's more curious officers, followed Apollo, Starbuck, and Athena out of the Officers' Lounge. They traveled through many corridors before Athena finally stopped at a disused-looking alcove.

  "There may be a way in here," she said. "The ways into these passages were always in alcoves like this one."

  Starbuck began to inspect the depression in the wall. "I see something. There. A door or something."

  Athena studied the area where Starbuck pointed. "It doesn't look sealed up."

  "No, I think—Apollo, pull here with me."

  The two men struggled with a stiff lever at the side of the apparent door. It took the strength of both of them but, with a mighty wrench, the lever went down and the door sprang open. Apollo squeezed past Starbuck to rush through the narrow opening.

  "Hey, Apollo," Starbuck called after him, "take it easy."

  Starbuck eased through the door, followed by Athena, then Giles. All three of them choked on the thick layers of dust which Apollo's frantic rush along the tunnel had stirred up. So much dust was a surprising occurrence aboard the usually pristine Galactica.

  "God," Giles said, as the trio followed Apollo's clear trail, "this place smells worse than the pilots' dressing area."

  They caught up with Apollo, who'd stopped at the junction of two tunnels.

  "I think I heard Boxey's voice this way," he said and began running down the tunnel on the left. The others went after him. Athena was surprised by how much strange light, odd beams without apparent origin, seeped into the tunnels.

  Soon Apollo stopped running. He moved cautiously through a wider tunnel, then stopped altogether at the bottom of some steps. Leaning against the nearby wall, he could hear the murmur of voices on its other side. His eyes became wild. "This is where he was! Boxey was here!"

  "How can you be sure?" Athena asked.

  Apollo stared into Athena's questioning eyes. "It was his voice. I heard him. None of you believe me, do you?"

  "I don't know, Apollo," Athena said compassionately. "I want to—"

  "I know Boxey's voice when I hear it."

  "I realize." Athena glanced toward Starbuck, who made a gesture of confusion. "We should take a look around here anyway."

  "But which way do we go?" Starbuck said.

  They all scrutinized the floor, looking for clues, something that would indicate Boxey had been there. There was nothing. Athena spoke quietly, "Well, I don't know if it means anything, but there've been some reports of activity in the lower tunnels. The reports come mostly from technicians and engineers working on the machinery down there, and you know how flaky those types can be."

  "What about these reports?" Apollo asked urgently. "What'd they say?"

  "Oh, the usual kind of ghost story stuff."

  "See?" Giles interjected.

  "Mysterious voices, strange noises, the occasional eerie appearance. Apollo, where are you going?"

  "I have to look for Boxey. He might be in trouble."

  "There're hundreds of tunnels. It's a maze down here."

  "I have to try."

  Athena, Giles, and Starbuck followed Apollo down several dark tunnels and byways, always rushing to keep up with him.

  "It's no use," Giles finally said, sitting down on a step. "There're too many tunnels."

  "Giles is right, Apollo," Starbuck said to Apollo's back. "We should go back."

  Apollo replied softly, grimly, without turning around. "You guys can
go back. I'm going on."

  "No, wait, Apollo," Athena said. "We're all exhausted. Even you, you're tired out. Look, we can talk to Father, get him to send in search parties. Nobody thought of these tunnels before."

  "But Boxey might be near here."

  "And he might be at the top of the ship. These tunnels go everywhere. There's no way the four of us can—"

  "I'm staying, Athena."

  "That's just stubbornness. I'm telling you, Apollo, you can be the most—what was that?"

  Faintly, as if miles away, the sound of a siren whispered through the tunnel.

  "That sounds like an alert klaxon," Giles said.

  "It is," Starbuck said. "We have to get to duty stations."

  Starbuck, Giles, and Athena all broke into a run, down the tunnel in the direction they'd come. Apollo stood, staring after them. Athena ran back a few steps and shouted to him, "Apollo, we have to go. Regulations. An alert."

  "I know," Apollo said, hesitantly. "I just—"

  Athena embraced her brother. "I understand. We all understand. But we have to go. Duty."

  Apollo stared down the long dark tunnels, the ones he hadn't yet searched, then back at his sister and comrades. He knew he wanted to continue to look for Boxey, yet in an alert he was needed on the bridge. This conflict within him was, he realized, the same problem that had sent Boxey away in the first place, the conflict between personal duty and official duty, his duty to Boxey and to the Galactica. He wished he had Boxey with him now, so that he could try to explain it all to him.

  Apollo nodded and joined his fellow colonial warriors, following Athena as she located a way out of the tunnels. The Galactica's corridors and passageways were, they observed, a madhouse of activity, the inevitable result of an alert. Some of the crew were wiping the sleep from their eyes, others were trying to push their way to their assigned places. As Starbuck and Giles headed for their respective duty stations, Apollo and Athena went to the bridge, where they encountered their father and Colonel Tigh. Both looked puzzled. Apollo asked what had happened.

  "There's been a distress call from a planet in the star system to starboard," Adama replied.

  "I thought we'd already established it wasn't inhabited," Athena said.

  "Or even amenable to life forms, that's correct," Tigh said. "Nevertheless, a distress call has been transmitted. Maybe our scout teams overlooked something."

  "Perhaps it's an underground civilization," Apollo remarked.

  "Possible," Tigh agreed. "At any rate, we're sending out a full squadron to investigate. You and Starbuck will be in charge, Apollo."

  Adama clamped his hands on his son's upper arms. His voice was solemn. "Go with caution. Follow the signal. Establish communication. In other words, follow standard procedure."

  "Aye-aye, sir."

  "You look skeptical, Apollo. Why?"

  "Just a feeling, sir. I saw the scouting reports. If there were people there, underground or whatever, why didn't they contact us then? For that matter, how did they know enough to contact us now?"

  "Exactly what concerns me. That's why I put the ship on full and not conditional alert. But it's our duty to respond to distress calls. As I say, go with caution. Extreme caution."

  "Yes, sir."

  Apollo saluted and left the bridge. As he proceeded to launch bay, he wished he were responding to the distress call from Boxey instead of the one from some unknown civilization.

  Back on the bridge, Adama watched his busy crew swing into launch procedures. He realized that the doubts Apollo had expressed had also been bothering him ever since the distress call had first been picked up.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Spectre had frequently observed Baltar rubbing his hands together when things were going well. He tried that now as he oversaw the beginning of his strategies against the Galactica. After a few moments of awkward hand-rubbing, he could not figure out what good the act had done for Baltar. It merely made an unpleasant grinding noise which echoed through the command chamber.

  After the distress call from the uninhabited planet had been transmitted for only a short time, a Cylon centurion reported activity from the human ship.

  "I take it," Spectre said, "the humans have responded to the distress call?"

  "Correct, sir."

  "And they are on a direct course for the planet?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Very well then. Order our personnel there to set the transmitter destruct-timer and to clear the area."

  "By your command."

  "It begins," Spectre muttered as he began to pace in the revered Baltarian manner.

  During the first flyover of the planet, Apollo stared at the barren terrain below and wondered how any kind of life could possibly exist there.

  "Captain Apollo!"

  "Yes, Cadet Hera?"

  "The distress signal. It just stopped abruptly."

  Lieutenant Jolly's voice overlapped Hera's. "And my scanner showed an explosion near those mountains. A little explosion, just enough to be detectable."

  "Head for it," Apollo ordered.

  At the point of the explosion, Starbuck flew in low to inspect the area. "I can't see much, Apollo. Wait! There's some debris there. Some stuff. Twisted metal, looks like. Must be what blew up."

  "Any life forms nearby?"

  "Nothing, Captain. Should I land, take a closer look?"

  "Negative. Something's wrong here. I don't like it. What do you think, Starbuck?"

  "I don't know. Why would anybody lure us here and then blow up the transmitter sending the distress call?"

  Boomer's calm voice came on-line. "Maybe it's a diversion of some kind."

  "Go on, Boomer."

  "Maybe whoever did this wanted to get us away from the Galactica. Divide our forces."

  Starbuck's voice lacked Boomer's calm. "I think Boomer may be on to something, Apollo."

  "Me, too. Vipers, form up. We're going back at full speed!"

  Spectre was pleased by the diversion's initial successes. Everything was going according to plan.

  "Centurion!"

  "Sir?"

  "Order the attack."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Transmit to them this message; Destroy all Vipers."

  "By your command."

  Spectre doubted that his last order could be properly implemented. It was not even part of the original strategy. He merely wanted to inspire his warriors. Although he doubted there was much chance of that. Most Cylon pilots were too unemotional and, because they were the more primitive type of Cylon, with a single brain, too dim-witted to be stirred by fancy words. That didn't matter, since they were merely words Spectre had desperately wanted to say in order to sound like a proper commander.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  "Captain Apollo!" Cadet Hera's voice again. "Scanner shows a large force, many ships, heading for the Galactica."

  "Can anyone identify the ships?" Apollo said. "Markings, anything?"

  Greenbean's soft folksy voice responded. "Fellas, looks like good old Cylon Raiders to me. A whole wall of the little buggers."

  "Apollo," Starbuck said, "you were right about the diversion. They were setting us up for an all-out attack."

  "Maybe. Doesn't look all-out to me. That's too few ships to take an entire fleet."

  Jolly chimed in, "Could it be some kind of maverick Cylon group?"

  Boomer supplied his own brand of cautious insight. "You ever know any Cylons independent enough to break away? Cylons don't rebel or follow revolutionary leaders."

  "Whatever they're up to," Apollo said, "we've got to reach them before they reach the Galactica. Full speed ahead!"

  The squadron swept in on the Cylon attackers, who turned to engage the Vipers in battle. Apollo's Viper was the lead ship. Blasting away with his laser cannon, he demolished three Cylon Raiders before another Galactican could claim one.

  Fought just outside the fleet's border, the fierce battle became an adventurous light show for the noncombatants inside ship
s. At the beginning of combat Tigh had rushed onto the Galactica's bridge to report to Adama.

  "Red Squadron's engaging the enemy, sir."

  "Dispatch Blue Squadron as reinforcement."

  "Yes, sir."

  Adama stood at the starfieid watching the battle. Galactica' s pilots were performing superbly, he noted. Cylon Raiders zoomed toward them and were almost routinely transformed into whirling balls of fire. There seemed to be a host of new stars all around the fleet, blazing and then quickly going nova.

  "Sir?"

  Adama turned. Athena stood next to him, with Tigh just beyond her, waiting in his usual position at the raised platform called the helm.

  "Yes, Athena?"

  "Got some telemetric data. This attack doesn't make sense. The firepower in that Cylon assault group can do some damage, but essentially they're doomed. Why would anyone send out an attack force if it was doomed?"

  "I know. It's as if these ships are just setups. Cylons have been known to send out suicide missions before, but usually as part of some larger plan. They must be up to something."

  Tigh pointed toward the battle. "Look! The Cylon force, it's retreating. It's turning tail." He was handed a printout by a crew member. "Captain Apollo requests permission to pursue."

  "Tell him no. Cylons're always devising traps. This might be one. Order the squadrons to return to fleet."

  "Yes, sir."

  Adama turned to Athena and requested damage reports. She went off and returned in a moment with the information. "None of our Vipers were lost, Commander. Curiously enough, very few of the Cylon craft were destroyed, too. It was a brief battle."

  "Too brief."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I'm not sure what I mean. Just a shuddery feeling at the back of my neck that tells me something's wrong. At any rate, I want the entire fleet put on full alert. This assault group might return. Or worse."

  "Worse?"

  Adama took a few steps toward the starfield, where his squadrons could be seen, in precise formation, returning to the home ship. Athena kept up with him and waited patiently for him to speak again. "Something fishy's going on, Athena. What's the reason for this attack?"