Battlestar Galactica-04-Rebellion

by Richard Hatch

  "Bojay," Boomer said, shaking his head, as they carried Cain's body together, but everyone still laughed.

  "I guess you did all right, hotshot," Bojay said to Trays as they left the bay together.

  Trays glared over at Bojay, who suddenly grinned.

  "I guess I won't be needing that cane after all," he said.

  Boomer, despite himself, almost let go of Cain's shoulder, he started to laugh so hard.

  "Some things never change," Apollo said. And he was right.

  Chapter Ten

  TIGH LOOKED over at Athena, silently questioning with his wide, dark eyes. "What should we do?" he mouthed. Aron was turned away, studying one of the command consoles.

  Athena shook her head. Gar'Tokk had done it—he'd freed Apollo and they were on the way to the bridge. And it was like some kind of incredible miracle—praise the Lords of Kobol!—Dalton, Troy and Trays were back! And, beyond miracles—they had a cargo more precious than the fuel and food they'd found on the destroyed hulk of the Pegasus: Cain, alive, being carried in their arms to sickbay. The food and fuel would buy them precious time.

  If Aron didn't get his way.

  By some miracle, the Pegasus had been found. No one could have survived that disaster—it was a mausoleum, not a battlestar any longer. The remains of the ship had somehow been pulled into this Ur cloud, along with the wrecks of many other vessels destroyed in the last great battle. How could Cain have survived?

  Not after all that destruction. Athena thought for the thousandth time, how could this be?

  She looked over at Aron in silent fury. The destruction he'd caused—it was beyond all imagining. He was no battlestar commander, that was certain. He wasn't right in the head, either. He didn't act like anyone she'd ever known—not even crazy, vicious, Janus-headed Baltar. Why was he such a clever plotter and manipulator, and so stupid about many other things?

  For example, he was just letting Baltar wander around unwatched, poking and prodding everything on the bridge. Anybody who'd turn his back on Baltar couldn't have an operating brain cell.

  Athena groaned in disgust when Baltar caught her eye—and winked!

  The thing was, Aron had something he called his "security policy." A little communicator with a big red button. He wouldn't say any more about it, even though Athena had tried batting her eyes at him to get more information.

  And even though Gar'Tokk had two more Nomen with him, and Apollo was free, it was just the four of them. Apollo had insisted on leaving the others behind—Boomer, Bojay, Trays and the rest, responsible to see Cain safely to sickbay. He said they were his rear guard.

  She held her breath and waited.

  "They're almost here," Tigh whispered.

  In a moment, Apollo burst onto the bridge, aiming a laser pistol straight at Aron's face. Gar'Tokk and the other two Nomen stood behind him, towering over him and glowering at the interloper.

  "Aron!" Apollo cried. "It's over."

  Slowly, Aron turned. Athena and Tigh went to Apollo's side. Jinkrat had taken their side arms, so they couldn't do much other than lend moral support.

  "Oh, Apollo," Aron said calmly. "I've been expecting you. Glad to see you brought your friend." He looked over at Gar'Tokk and grinned.

  "Your time is at an end," Apollo said, cautiously approaching the two-faced Council member.

  "I doubt that," Aron said. "But I should thank you for bringing this Noman. He evaded our capture—not very nice of him."

  "Aron," Apollo said. "Give it up. Everything's changed. The pilots are back, and your time is over. Come with us."

  Aron shrugged. "Where?" he asked.

  "Back to the brig—you'll get the cell this time," Apollo said. "You'll stand trial for—"

  "Apollo!" Tigh cried, turning and grabbing Apollo's arm.

  The small group whirled to see the bridge doors opening once more and a flood of black-shirted Council Security guards streaming in. Dozens of them, their rifles all aimed at Apollo, Gar'Tokk, Athena, Tigh, and the two silent Nomen fighters.

  It was sixty on six, at the very least.

  The Nomen growled and got into a fighting posture, but Apollo stayed them.

  "We can't fight these odds," he said. "They're heavily armed."

  "So, who's going to the brig now?" Aron asked, laughing long and hard.

  He held up the communicator with the red button, turning it from side to side. "Now you know what it's for," he told Athena. The guards rushed forward, disarming the entire group, stripping the laser boles from the Nomen's belts, everyone's pistols, even finding the Nomen's hidden knives in microns.

  She glanced behind him, where Baltar lurked behind one of the consoles. She watched Baltar look suspiciously at the guards, cringing in apprehension. She could see the conflict on Baltar's face. Should he join Apollo and the others, or should he stay with Aron?

  Baltar slowly stood, gathering his cloak. "Ahem," he said, clearing his throat. "If I could be so bold," he told Aron, "I could have told you this was coming."

  Aron appeared to notice Baltar for the first time in centars. "You could have—" he said, a puzzled expression on his face.

  "Yes," Baltar said. "Of course. Very handy that you were able to call the guards so quickly. I admire a careful planner."

  "Oh," Aron said, smiling. "Yes, I always plan ahead."

  "In fact," Baltar said, sidling around the console, a smarmy smile on his dark face, "I haven't seen that kind of strategy in a long time. Letting them escape like that, then reeling them back in? Aron, it's masterful!"

  Athena's brows knit. Baltar! Turning tail again! Well, who would have expected anything different? She looked over at Apollo, who was staring at Baltar, his mouth open.

  "I am a master," Aron said, proudly raising his chin over his thin, wrinkled neck, face full of shining arrogance.

  "Yes, now their fate will really hurt. Their only consolation is that they'll be destroyed together," Baltar said.

  "Of course!" Sire Aron cried triumphantly. Then uncertainty crossed his face. "How did you know?" he asked Baltar.

  "I have my ways," Baltar said. "Don't forget my yahrens of experience."

  "Ah," Aron said, then he appeared to think a moment. "Look," he said to Baltar. "I need someone to assist me here for the time being. I could reward you—" he added.

  Baltar grinned. "Precisely what I had in mind. I must thank you heartily," he said. "I've been waiting to see Apollo… and Athena… in this position for many long yahrens."

  Aron put his head back and laughed once more. "Baltar!" Apollo cried.

  With a cruel chuckle, Baltar strode to Apollo's side.

  Apollo stared at Baltar, stunned.

  Baltar leaned close and Apollo nearly spit in his face, but Baltar said, "Do not, Apollo," and looked deeply in his eyes.

  Apollo couldn't believe Baltar's treachery—but then again, yes he could. It was his own foolish trust that he couldn't believe. Letting Baltar out like that, with only the tracking device on his ankle. Letting Baltar do whatever he wished. He should have had him in the brig the entire time, under dozens of guards with mind-shields to protect them from Baltar's evil influence.

  Apollo looked over at the others. They were glaring furiously at Baltar. Tigh struggled with the guards who held him, crying, "Baltar! I'll kill you!"

  Baltar merely smiled at Tigh. "Apollo," he whispered again. "How does it feel?"

  Apollo couldn't believe that Baltar had done it: again.

  "Yes, I'll laugh when you meet your doom, Apollo!" Baltar cried. Then he gave his best maniacal, insane, vicious laugh, looking at all the guards, glaring with his glittering eyes.

  Again, loudly, Baltar announced, "A sectare of rejoicing has come!" Then he drew his arm back and drove his fist deep into Apollo's mid-section.

  Grunting, Apollo doubled over as every ounce of breath left him and his eyes watered from the pain. "Baltar!" he said—in agony. Baltar snatched his laser as Apollo doubled over.

  Baltar didn't resp
ond at all, turning back to the traitorous Council leader. "Hail Sire Aron! Victory is yours!" Baltar cried. He raised his fist in a crude salute. Apollo looked up through his pain-hazed eyes and saw that Baltar had one arm hidden in his cloak, and he was certain that hidden hand held the laser.

  The guards led the group away to the brig, and even as they left, Baltar stood waving farewell, the pistol secreted somewhere in his robes, grinning evilly. Why had Baltar pretended to be Apollo's friend? Just to escape the brig?

  Probably. And now it looked like he was well on' his way to making another try for control of the Galactica.

  Now it was Aron who was going to have to watch his back.

  In sickbay, Cassi and Doctor Salik struggled to save Sheba, brought back by Gar'Tokk's Noman companion.

  "Her body has suffered incredible trauma," the Doctor told Cassi. "I've eased it somewhat, but we have no more tissue regenerators. She should have received treatment right away. All those centars in that cell—"

  Cassi looked at the Doctor, fully aware that Sheba's life hung in the balance. They had done all that anyone could do. All that was left was to wait to see if Sheba's body could heal itself.

  The Noman who had brought Sheba stood impassively by the door. Then he seemed to hear something that neither Cassi nor the Doctor could hear.

  "Gar'Tokk calls!" he exclaimed. They looked at him in alarm. His terrifying, remorseless face completely changed, suddenly filling with remorse and traces of fear.

  "Ohhhhh," the Noman said. "I must go."

  "Very good," the Doctor said, shaking his head. He turned to Cassi, raising his brows. "Having him around here isn't helping things, standing there like some brooding lunatic," he told her.

  "I know," Cassi said in a low voice. "I know he's here to help, but he's really—scary."

  "Gar'Tokk! The Call!" the Noman said in the common speech, although it sounded as though the words were unfamiliar to him.

  Then he turned, his cloak swirling, and strode purposefully from the sickbay.

  "Well, that's that," the Doctor said. He grabbed Cassi's hand and squeezed it. "Why don't you get some rest? You've been here for centars. You've got to take care of—" and he looked down at her stomach.

  "I know," Cassi said. "But Sheba—" she said, looking down at Sheba, who was now in a deep form of stasis, beyond all sight and hearing.

  "Take care, Cassi," the Doctor said. "I'll watch her."

  Cassi started to leave, but turned back to Doctor Salik. "I just can't believe it," she said. "I know that Sheba has… feelings… for Apollo. That's obvious to anyone."

  The Doctor crossed his arms, nodding kindly. "Yes," he told Cassi. "But think of it this way. We all love Apollo."

  Cassi's wide eyes filled with tears. "I know," she said.

  "We all do. And what are we going to do now? I wish I could help him," she held her hands out in a helpless gesture. "I can't fight them all by myself."

  "Nor can I," Doctor Salik said. "But Cassi, we're healers, not warriors. Let the warriors—"

  "Sire Aron has all our warriors under guard! He's going to kill Apollo, and Athena and Tigh and—"

  "Cassi, there's always hope," Doctor Salik said. "I have seen more than a few miracles in my time."

  "I hope you're right," she said. "But I've got a hard time believing in them right now."

  "I know," Doctor Salik said. "But think of Dalton!"

  And at once, Dalton's face appeared in the sickbay entry. "Mom!" she cried, running toward Cassi.

  "Dalton!" Cassi cried in return, running to her daughter and holding her close. Cassi was so overwhelmed that at first she didn't fully register the group who was bringing Commander Cain's body into sickbay.

  Truly, it was a miracle. Dalton was back safe, whole and sound. Then, Cassi's eyes came to rest upon the larger miracle. Boomer, Bojay, Trays and Troy all carried a limp, badly wounded man into sick bay. A man Cassi knew well—in fact, she had always loved Cain, and had a special spot in her heart for him. A great warrior, and a powerful, masterful, deeply loving—

  "Dalton!" Cassi cried. "How—what—?"

  "We found him on the Pegasus," Dalton said. "That's how far we went out, mother. To the edge of the universe and back."

  Eyes wide, Cassi grabbed Dalton's hand and ran to Cain's side.

  "Lords of Kobol," she said, recognizing the many wounds that tore Cain's body. Each of them—potentially fatal.

  "Cain," Doctor Salik said. "But how?"

  Troy and Trays told the doctor of their discovery, and Dalton added how she had been there when Cain had taken a breath, and they'd realized that he was not dead and preserved, but alive. They had brought him back.

  "You're heroes!" Cassi cried. Troy and Trays grinned.

  "We're not bad either," Bojay said.

  Cassi rolled her eyes, but there wasn't time for more.

  She bent over Cain, realizing with a sudden sharp breath that here lay father and daughter, right beside each other, each fighting for life. Or were they? It hardly seemed as though Cain was alive—in fact, it seemed impossible that his chest moved, and that air came between his parted lips. Those wounds!

  "He's—I've never seen anything like it," Doctor Salik said. "Yes, he's breathing. But he seems to be in some kind of stasis."

  "That's how he survived out there for all this time," Cassi said, voice quiet with wonder.

  The Doctor looked up at her. She read his expression from long years of experience. The Doctor did not believe that Cain would survive for much longer.

  Lowering her eyes, she said a brief prayer to herself, then she looked over at Dalton once more, checking for any injuries, making sure that Dalton was really back whole and well. And said another prayer of thanks that Dalton was not the one on that table. Oh, Lords of Kobol—Cassi looked over at Sheba once more.

  Sheba and Cain were laying side by side. And only the Gods knew if either of them would make it.

  She looked past Dalton for the first time since the pilots had brought Cain into sickbay. There were Troy and Trays, home safe. And Boomer and Bojay, standing by. They were all together, all her favorite pilots.

  Except for one. Right now, she couldn't bear to think of Apollo—she just had to pray that he would be safe. And Starbuck.

  She and Doctor Salik had worked together for a long time. He seemed to read her expression, and said, "Don't worry about Starbuck, either. I'm sure he's on his way back. There's no way two who are so dear to you could get lost in that cloud."

  "You're right," Cassi said, as she bent over Cain again. "But I was never really worried about Starbuck. He can take care of himself."

  "The rest of you!" Salik cried. "Out! Can't you see we've got work to do?"

  With hasty farewells, Dalton, Boomer, Trays and Bojay retreated.

  But Starbuck was lost. He followed Boomer's ion trail as far as he could into the Ur cloud, but they only led so far. Soon, everything faded away and Starbuck was piloting his Viper through nothing but blind whiteness.

  He swore, slamming his fist on the controls.

  "Dalton!" he cried. "Where are you?"

  The words echoed out into nothing.

  Then, looking at his directional display, he shook his head and blinked. Every micron, it changed. One moment, it looked like he'd barely left the Galactica, and the next, it told him he was at the very edge of the universe, wildly switching back and forth before his astonished eyes.

  "You are completely screwed," he told himself.

  And his fuel was running low.

  He wracked his brain for ideas. "Come on, Starbuck," he told himself. "You know how you can find her. Just…"

  "Starbuck," came a deep, echoing voice. Starbuck hit his helmet. Who in the stars was out here, chatting it up over the comm?

  That sure wasn't Troy's voice, he thought.

  "The blood calls you," the voice said.

  Starbuck swore under his breath because he knew the voice then.

  "Gar'Tokk!" he cried, slappi
ng his helmet once more. "How'd you—"

  "Come back," the voice said, suddenly fading.

  "Yeah, right," Starbuck said. Not only had he seen no sign of Dalton or Troy, not only was he lost in the middle of nowhere, running low on fuel, he had no clue as to where "back" was right then. This Gar'Tokk sure knew how to throw a party, Starbuck thought.

  Come back! Maybe Starbuck could sprout wings out of his ass, ditch his Viper, and fly back like a birdie.

  Then, out of nowhere, a huge ship came storming at Starbuck's Viper, buzzing him like he and Apollo had done in the old sectares, to see who'd pee his pants first.

  "Holy—" Starbuck swore, ducking.

  The ship banked and turned back as Starbuck craned his neck to see it. Then it came to a stop, hovering and flashing its lights. He knew that ship. It was Valor of the Sky, and it was telling him to turn around. Starbuck thought that ship had been lost when the Pegasus went down, but he guessed he was wrong.

  Starbuck did turn around whistling to himself. That thing took off like a shot and Starbuck hit his burners, flaming after it with everything he had.

  "I don't know where you came from, buddy," he said. "But I always figured, don't look a gift Boray in the mouth."

  As Starbuck did what he knew best, piloting his Viper following the trail of the giant, sentient ship, banking and turning in its path, he said, "that Boray'll take off your fingers." Before he knew it, the Galactica hove into sight, and the image of Valor faded right before his eyes.

  Starbuck didn't understand it at all, and he still was torn up with worry over Dalton, but he guided his Viper into the landing bay, praying silently that'd see be all right, and ready to find that Noman and send his ugly face straight to the halls of Hades.

  Things weren't right, Starbuck thought as he struggled to find a bay for his Viper. It looked like every squadron was grounded. Had they found a way out while he'd been out looking for Dalton, Troy and that hothead Trays? Why were the patrols all down?

  He climbed from his Viper, shaking his head, and Bojay came running up.

  "Starbuck!" Bojay cried. "Get your ass down here!"

  "Thanks for the friendly greeting," Starbuck told Bojay.