Silently, she touched Cain's cheek where it was stained and mottled with blood, and thought a prayer to herself. For the great Commander, and for all the many others on the Pegasus.
"We'd better go," Trays said. He started away.
Dalton lingered, unwilling to leave Cain's side. It seemed… disrespectful to just leave him there like that. Again, she lowered her head to pray. And as she did, she thought that she saw Cain move.
Not the weird floating of all the dead bodies, but a quick movement, of his eyebrows.
She leaned closer. His eyelids were trembling! Then, all at once, the body shuddered, and Cain took a long, deep breath, rasping into his chest.
"Trays!" Dalton cried. "He's not dead—Commander Cain is alive!"
"Fracking holy felgercarb!" Trays yelled, running toward her. "It can't—"
"It can be, Trays," Dalton said. "He's breathing!"
And though Commander Cain's eyes were still shut tight, and with the huge wounds all along his body, and it seemed absolutely impossible, Trays and Dalton both saw his chest rising and falling, and heard his breath rasping. Together, they freed his cloak from the twisted metal and carried him back to their Vipers, hearts pounding. As soon as Trays and Dalton got Cain's body back to their Vipers, they saw the shimmering flash of a Viper.
Troy was back, and he slipped into the bay, leaping out and running toward them.
"I've got fuel cells!" he cried. "It was on the Cylon ship. There was tons of it left. I'm not sure how much it's good for, but maybe there's some use to it. It was all still active—not like our Tylium reactors. Maybe that's the ticket out of here, although it wasn't any use to them any more. Man, I never saw so many dead Cylons!"
"Troy," Dalton said quietly. But Troy had already fallen silent, his expression completely changed.
"Cain," he said. "You want to bring his body back."
Dalton shook her head. "Troy—" she started to say.
"The old man's still alive," Trays said, his voice full of excitement.
"Lords of Kobol," Troy said in a stunned whisper. "That's impossible. No one could have survived for that long. And look at him—he's torn to pieces."
"I know, Troy," Dalton said, "But it's true all the same."
Troy looked around the half-ruined bay of the Pegasus, his eyes wide. "I don't know," he said. "You two, you've got your Vipers full. I'll—I'll take him."
Dalton nodded.
"Well, of course, you do the honors," Trays said sarcastically.
"Stop it, Trays," Dalton warned. Troy watched the other young pilot's face flush. But Trays didn't say anything more.
Soon, the barely living body of Commander Cain was put on Troy's Viper and the three pilots, refueled and laden, left the sad wreckage of the Pegasus. As the three pilots left, they didn't look back, but instead looked forward, searching the graveyard of torn hulks for Valor of the Sky. But neither of them saw anything.
He was gone, as quickly and mysteriously as he'd come.
"Troy, it's almost like we imagined him," Dalton said.
"We didn't," Troy said. "He was real. That tow beam was real."
"But he's just gone—just like that," Dalton mused.
"I know, Dalton—maybe we'll see him again."
"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "He was like a ghost."
"There's no such thing as ghosts!" Trays cried. Even so, he was glad he was in his own cockpit, so the other two couldn't see him shiver.
Centars had passed while Apollo sat watching Sheba, waiting to see if she would show signs of recovering.
She had grown no worse, but Apollo, completely exhausted, had fallen asleep beside the cot, his body curled on the cold deck of the brig.
He woke, startled, and heard something at the cell door. Leaping to his feet, he prepared himself to fight. Maybe they were coming to take him away—then, he thought—maybe they'd relented and were sending some help for Sheba. Curse Aron for throwing her in sickbay! He wondered why—why would Aron be so needlessly cruel? All he could think of was that Sheba was the one who'd physically carried the bomb out of sickbay. Maybe Aron thought she had seen something—noticed something—and if she recovered, could speak against him. As daughter of Cain, and heretofore blameless, people would listen to her. Maybe Aron just couldn't afford to have her around after he got rid of Apollo.
After all, Sheba would never bow to Aron if she survived. Not for a second. He waited in a crouch, and the door opened with a creak.
A cloaked figure entered, followed by three others. There was hardly room to move in the tiny cell. Not with Apollo, Sheba unconscious on the bed, and Gar'Tokk and three other equally imposing battle-ready Nomen.
"Gar'Tokk!" Apollo cried, grabbing the Noman's arms.
Apollo was the only Galactican who could have done that; no other human had free permission to touch a Noman. The other three didn't seem to like it much, growling in their way, but they made no other complaints.
"Be silent, Apollo," GarTokk said. Apollo hadn't realized before how stealthy and silent the huge Noman could be, or how soft and quiet he could make his voice when he desired it.
GarTokk leaned down. "We have very little time," he said. Then he looked over to see Sheba on the cot.
"Your friend, the fighting woman," GarTokk said softly. "Naga can carry her." He turned to one of his three companions, who nodded and went to the cot, lifting Sheba like she weighed as much as an infant.
Then GarTokk, looking cautiously for trouble, led them out of the cell and into the brig corridor.
As they moved through the brig, Apollo noticed one of the guards at a table with a glass of ale and some pyramid cards. He still had a card in his hand. It looked like he was asleep, but Apollo took a second look.
Nobody slept with his head at that type of angle. He wondered if it had been GarTokk or one of the other Nomen—this one had joined the Security Council guard in testing a Noman's strength.
Suddenly, three guards appeared in front of them.
"Sound the alarm!" one of them cried.
GarTokk and the two Nomen pushed forward, grappling with the guards. The struggle was brief, but fierce. Apollo cried out to warn GarTokk, but the last of the guards escaped, scrambling away to sound the alarm. GarTokk paused to reflect on their work, lying crumpled on the floor.
"That one should not have escaped," he told his mates.
"We are not familiar with this place," one of the other Nomen said.
"Nomen do not make excuses," GarTokk said ominously. Then, turning to Apollo, he nodded.
No more words were needed. Soon there'd be more guards than even the Nomen could handle. They began to run.
Apollo could barely breathe as he ran beside Gar'Tokk. "Wait," he said, resting and putting his hands on his knees. All that time rotting in the cell, and the exhaustion was catching up with him.
Gar'Tokk halted. The other three stopped as well, and Naga, holding Sheba in his arms, was almost comical as he tried to balance the extra weight.
"Can he take her to sickbay?" Apollo asked Gar'Tokk. "She's got to get help—right away. She's bleeding inside."
Gar'Tokk's brows lowered. "Yes," he said. "I understand, Apollo. Naga does not speak your language. I will explain to him."
He turned to Naga and spoke a few words in the guttural Borellian tongue. The Noman carrying Sheba turned and headed in the opposite direction.
"We go to find friends," Gar'Tokk told Apollo. "Have you rested sufficiently?"
Apollo hadn't, but he nodded to the Noman, gritted his teeth, and followed the trio down the corridor. Soon he realized they were heading for one of the launch pods.
When they reached the pod, there was a lot of activity, although it looked like every Viper was grounded.
Apollo searched for signs of Boomer, Bojay, or even Starbuck —hoping that Starbuck had changed his mind, not flying out after Dalton after all. Or maybe Starbuck found her! Mechanics and pilots stared to see the three strange Nomen in their territ
ory, and they also stared at Apollo. But these were Colonial Warriors and loyal men and women. For the moment, Apollo was safe from the Council Security guards, and from dealing with Aron—the murderous traitor.
Finally, Apollo spotted Boomer, and called out his name.
"Apollo!" Boomer cried upon seeing him. "How did you—" Boomer cut himself short seeing the Nomen.
"Hey," he said, smiling. "It's nice to have friends."
"Yeah," Apollo said, as they embraced.
Now, there were at least a few moments to talk. Cautiously, Apollo looked around and led the small group to a corner covered from view by a grounded Viper that was being fueled.
"Gar'Tokk," Apollo said as soon as they were out of plain sight. "How did you get these men? How did you manage to—"
"Nomen have their ways," Gar'Tokk said inscrutably.
"Just the facts, Gar'Tokk," Apollo said. "There were no Nomen on Galactica. They were all on the transport ships."
"I do not like these tiny Vipers," Gar'Tokk said. "They do not accommodate my legs."
"You were in a Viper?" Boomer broke in, astonished.
"Yes, small man," Gar'Tokk said. Apollo almost burst out laughing—he was pretty sure this was the one and only time anyone had ever called Boomer a "small man."
"Gar'Tokk, how did you manage to get hold of a Viper?" Apollo asked, although he already had a pretty good idea.
"Humans are not attentive to details," Gar'Tokk said. "They did not notice how short the trousers were, and how I could not buckle the boots. Nor did they notice how badly the helmet fit."
Boomer and Apollo burst out laughing.
"I see no humor," Gar'Tokk said.
Apollo slapped his leg, he was laughing so hard. "It's all right, Gar'Tokk," he said between chuckles. "I'm really grateful."
Looking up at the other two Nomen, he saw them with completely puzzled expressions on their rough, bearded faces.
"No more laughter," Gar'Tokk said. Boomer and Apollo struggled to compose themselves. "I must tell you what has happened. Athena sent me a message. That is why I undertook the mission in your… inadequate… ship to retrieve these men. They are among our most valiant fighters." Gar'Tokk turned to the other two Nomen and said more words in the Borellian language. They nodded, the confused expressions suddenly changing to pride and confidence.
"What message from Athena?" Apollo asked.
"This… Aron," Gar'Tokk said, making a disgusted expression. "He has taken control not only of the Council, but he believes he has control of the Galactica itself."
"No!" Apollo cried. He had prepared himself for some kind of show trial, but he knew in his heart that the truth would come out. It just wasn't possible that the bumbling, council fools and Aron were in charge of their fates. Of their lives!
"Athena and Tigh are on the bridge with him at all times," GarTokk said. "That is how they got the message through."
GarTokk leaned close to Apollo and put his enormous hand on Apollo's shoulder, looking into Apollo's eyes for a long moment. "They have managed to deceive this man for the time being. But he has given an order that fuel reserves be gathered, and this will cut off all air to the crew and civilian areas of the Galactica."
"But—that's insane!" Apollo cried. "How can anyone—"
"Everyone will die," GarTokk intoned.
"We've got to stop him," Apollo said. He started to move, but GarTokk pulled him back.
"Listen, Apollo," GarTokk said. "The warriors are in disarray. Many are being held under guard. Athena and Tigh are pretending to obey Aron's orders, but Tigh has told me that it's only a matter of time before the murderer understands what is happening and destroys them—as he tried to do to your female friend."
"Sheba!" Apollo said.
"Yes," GarTokk said. "He wished her to die in that cell with you."
"Lords of Kobol," Apollo whispered. "And what about the boy, Koren?"
"I am told that he is still unconscious. The healer does not know if he will recover."
"Like Sheba," Apollo said. "We've got to get Aron, GarTokk."
"Yes," GarTokk said. "But we must have a plan."
Apollo started to say something else, but an alarm sounded throughout the pod.
"Incoming!" someone cried.
More Vipers were on the way.
"It's the other patrol," they heard a voice crying.
"They're back!"
"Troy!" Boomer cried. "And Dalton and Trays!" The Nomen stayed in the shadows as Boomer and Apollo rushed out to greet their long-lost pilots—Apollo his very own son, Dalton, Starbuck's daughter, and hotheaded Trays, all three returning to a very changed Galactica and a fleet in full rebellion.
Apollo pushed his way through the clamoring warriors and mechanics to see Troy—a really exhausted, pale and disheveled Troy—climbing out of his Viper.
"Apollo!" Troy yelled. He was leaping down from the cockpit despite his exhaustion. They embraced, and Apollo held Troy close, whispering a silent prayer that the Lords had brought Troy home safe. Everything could change, Apollo thought—in the beat of a heart, in a single breath, in a single eyeblink.
"We've got fuel," Troy said breathlessly. Apollo looked over to see Dalton greeted like a heroine by Boomer and another group of pilots. "We've got more food."
"Troy," Apollo said—he didn't know what else to say. This had been the worst sectare of his life, but now Troy, his boy, was back, and it was like some kind of miracle that Apollo didn't understand, but that he wasn't about to question.
"And something else, Apollo—it's a miracle," Troy said.
Bojay came running up, and he and Boomer climbed up to Troy's Viper. Bojay let out a great whoop. Apollo looked at Troy, unable to understand why Bojay was so excited.
"Apollo, get up here!" Bojay yelled.
Apollo climbed up to stand beside Bojay on the wing of the Viper. Looking down into the cockpit, Apollo could hardly believe what he saw. He blinked—his eyes weren't focusing properly.
Then Bojay turned and yelled out into the crowd, "It's Cain! Troy Boy found Cain! Out there in the middle of nowhere!"
Bojay was right. A huge cheer went up.
"Cain! Cain!"
Troy had climbed up beside Apollo. Together, Apollo, Bojay, Boomer and Troy lifted Cain from the Viper—he wasn't moving at all—but Apollo heard him breathing. He'd never seen such wounds. How could Cain be alive? After so long?
"He's alive!" Bojay cried.
"Step aside," Boomer said in his calm voice. "Let us through."
The pilots had crowded close, but now when they saw Cain, torn and battered, they moved back with respectful nods and prayers.
"He's alive!" people cried. "Cain is alive! It's a miracle!"
It was a miracle, Apollo thought. Beyond his hope, or understanding. A gift from the Lords of Kobol, from the deities themselves. Now, he remembered what Baltar had said. About people believing in miracles. The three young pilots were back, bringing treasure—Dalton and Trays' Vipers were loaded with food and fuel from the Pegasus ... and the greatest miracle of all… Cain!
Dalton and Trays joined the group, and began to talk excitedly of what had happened. Apollo understood within a few words that the three young pilots had been within moments of death—they'd gone out to the edge and beyond. Out of fuel, out of air, they'd been floating toward oblivion when a miraculous ship appeared out of nowhere.
"It was incredible," Dalton said. "We thought we were gone for sure, and then here it came, right overhead. It towed us into this weird place—there were parts and pieces of ships everywhere."
Troy found a moment to squeeze in some words of his own. "We found Cain on the Pegasus," he said. "What was left of her."
"How could he have survived?" Apollo asked, although his eyes told him that it didn't really matter how—all that it mattered was that he was alive.
"The wreck must have been pulled into this cloud along with us somehow. I don't know. But there was enough of the engineering section left, an
d a landing bay that was still running down on the batteries, that Dalton and Trays pulled their Vipers in. They loaded up with all the fuel and food they could find. Then—"
"We found Commander Cain," Dalton said, her face flushed with excitement.
"Troy here found a Cylon hulk," Trays drawled.
"Half of one of their basestars," Troy said firmly.
"He brought back some of their fuel cells. There wasn't much left on Pegasus after Dalton and I finished, so—"
"I thought they could be of some use," Troy said. "They were working. Their drive was half-ruined, but still active."
"Troy, good work," Apollo said, embracing his son once more, feeling pride surge through his heart.
"What are you talking about—a ship that led you," Boomer said. "What other kind of ship is out there?"
"We saw something on the way back too," Bojay said.
"It was Valor," Dalton said. "The sentient ship of the Sky that fought alongside of us."
Boomer looked confused. "Valor?" he asked.
"Yeah," Dalton said. "He came right up to us, flashed his lights, and towed us straight to the Pegasus. He knew exactly where he was going. He saved our lives!"
"That can't be," Boomer said. "Valor died in the battle. I saw it with my own eyes. Bojay and I thought we saw something, but—"
"But he was—" Dalton paused, looking over at Troy, her eyes suddenly very wide.
"I can't explain it," Troy said. "He was just there."
"That's impossible," Boomer said. "Valor is really, truly gone."
"Boomer," Apollo said gently. "Maybe it's about time for all of us to start believing in miracles. Anything is possible." He squeezed Troy's shoulders, and Boomer slowly started to smile, trying to understand.
"For right now, we've got to get Cain to sickbay and then go deal with Aron. Tigh and Athena need our help!"
Troy, Dalton and Trays looked at each other, completely baffled.
"I'll explain later," Apollo said. "Right now, we've got to get some more of our friends. We've got an important date—with the biggest liar I ever saw in my life."
"Baltar?" Boomer asked.
"No, man," Apollo said. "I'd take Baltar over Aron any sectare. Baltar's been a pretty good man of late."
"Now that's a miracle," Bojay said.
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