Battlestar Galactica 6 - The Living Legend
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"Starbuck?" Apollo said, anxiously watching his scanner.
"Yo." Starbuck's voice came through loud and clear over the comcircuit in Apollo's helmet.
"I don't know what it is," Apollo said, "but I'm getting the funny feeling that we're not alone out here."
Starbuck allowed his gaze to leave his instruments momentarily. He glanced over at Apollo's Viper flying alongside his. He had a gambler's instincts, and no gambler ever dismissed an intuitive feeling. Starbuck was well known for his gambler's luck, but there were times when Apollo's combat instincts overshadowed Starbuck's famous hunches, approaching clairvoyance.
"I've got nothing on my scanner," Starbuck said, tensing slightly.
Inside Apollo's cockpit, two warning blips appeared upon his scanner screen.
"Starbuck . . ."
The other pilot knew that tone of voice only too well.
"Oh, oh . . ."
Starbuck licked his lips nervously, his gaze riveted to his scanner screen. It remained clear. He leaned forward slightly to adjust its directional mode, fine-tuning the range.
"I don't have a thing," he said. "There's nothing in front of us . . ."
"I'm on rear scan," Apollo said. "I've got two blips, behind us . . ."
"Swell. How close?" Starbuck switched to rear scan and it was at that precise moment that they came under fire as beams of energy, blindingly bright, lanced through space all around them, narrowly missing both their ships. "That close, huh?"
"They're coming up on us fast," Apollo said. "And we don't have much fuel to spare for evasive action. It doesn't look too good. I'm going right . . ."
"I'll take left," said Starbuck, feeling the familiar surge of adrenaline kicking in. "Good luck, old buddy."
"We'll need it," Apollo said. "Dispatching automatic distress to fleet. Be seeing you . . ."
Apollo hit the switch that sent the distress call back to the Galactica. It would keep on transmitting until he shut it off or was blown to bits. A light on his console began to flash red as the call went out, even as both pilots, moving together like clockwork, rolled their Vipers in opposite directions, separating in an effort to avoid the laser fire of their pursuers.
Sheba swore to herself as she observed the two ships splitting up, rolling left and right. They were still too far away for her to get a clear visual on them, but she took no chances with Cylon fighters. The two ships she was pursuing with her wingmate, Bojay, would not slip away. She had fired as soon as they were in range and she was certain that she had not rushed her shot, yet she had missed. In spite of their advantage of surprise, the two ships had reacted almost instantaneously.
Almost as if they knew we were coming up on them, Sheba thought. It appeared that yahrens of fighting was beginning to make the Cylons better flyers. An unsettling thought. She heard Bojay's exclamation of surprise through her helmet's comcircuit and she knew that the sudden maneuver of their quarry had impressed him, as well. But there was no time to pay grudging respects to the enemy pilots for their flying ability. They both had their work cut out for them now that they had lost the advantage of surprise.
"I'll pick up the one on the right," Sheba said, angling her Viper to follow Apollo's craft.
Inside his cockpit, Bojay smiled and touched the horse-head insignia emblazoned on his helmet. It was a private thing with him, the gesture was his only superstition, but touching his helmet insignia was a way of hoping that the luck of his commander would be his own as well.
"The one on the left is as good as dead," said Bojay. "I'll be back to help you with the other one in half a flash."
"Assuming I'll need help," Sheba replied.
The pursuing Vipers separated, rolling to either side, and the chase was on. Coming in from behind gave Sheba and her wingmate an advantage. The one thing the Cylon fighters had in common with the design of the Vipers was that they had no firepower from the rear. Fighter craft were designed to be as light as possible, both for the sake of economy and because of all ships, the sleek fighter craft had the highest mortality rate. A lighter fighter craft was easier to prepare for battle and easier to launch with speed. Most of the ship's weight was in the fuel it carried. Fighters were designed for speed and maneuverability. Putting in aft laser batteries would have meant sacrificing precious weight and room for fuel. All a fighter was, was a vehicle for carrying a minimal amount of laser batteries as far and as quickly as possible within the limitations of its design. It carried no more and no less than was thought necessary to get the job done. Which, in their present circumstances, was fortunate for Bojay and Sheba, because that meant that so long as their quarry took evasive action, they could not fire. About the only way the enemy ships could return fire in their present predicament would be if they used their maneuvering jets to cause them to tumble, thereby reversing their positions, but that meant exposing a greater surface area while they were executing their tumbling maneuver, presenting a bigger target. Not even Cylons were that stupid.
The only chance they had was to continue their evasive action, in the hopes of causing Bojay and Sheba to fail to properly anticipate their flight paths. Then they might have a chance either to run for it or to attempt a reversal, getting in behind them. Sheba was not about to let that happen. Using every ounce of skill and intuition she had acquired from yahrens of combat experience, she matched the enemy ship move for move. And it took every ounce of skill, at that. Sheba bit her lower lip as she caught herself just in time to avoid getting faked out.
The bastard's good, she thought. Better than he's got any right to be. But most of the pressure was on him. He could not return her fire from his present position, and taking evasive action gave her a chance to close the distance between them, so long as she didn't make any mistakes.
Bojay was having just as rough a time of it. Just as he would get his opponent in his sights, the ship would dart to one side, causing his shot to go wide of the mark. He regretted his earlier boast that he would dispose of the ship in "half a flash." It was taking considerably longer than that. The pilot of the ship he chased was an absolutely first-rate flyer. Bojay shook his head. He hadn't seen anyone handle a fighter craft like that in yahrens. Not since . . .
As she closed with Apollo's ship, Sheba flipped a switch on her console that would enable her to pick up a lifeform reading on the enemy pilot. There was something bothering her. As the distance between the two ships lessened, she could see that there was something about that fighter's configuration that seemed very familiar, that seemed wrong. Either the Cylons were suddenly using a brand new design or . . .
She stared at the scanner and her eyes grew wide as she saw the readout.
"LIFEFORMS . . . HUMAN . . . HUMAN . . . HUMAN . . ."
Bojay! She had to stop him before it was too late.
She shouted into her helmet mike. "Bojay! Cease fire! Cease fire!"
His voice came back to her over the comcircuit.
"Cease fire? Are you crazy? Cain'll have us for dinner if we let them get away! We've already reported contact and I'm right on—"
"They're human, Bojay!"
"What?"
"I said . . . they're human!"
Bojay wasn't sure he heard right.
"That's impossible," he said. "It's some sort of trick. A scanner malfunction . . ."
He flipped his own scanner to lifeform readout and was amazed at what he saw. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be.
"I don't believe it," he said softly.
Sheba's voice came back to him.
"Switching to unicom . . ."
She switched on the hailing frequency that would broadcast her message to the other ships. Vipers. They were Vipers!
"Attention," Sheba hailed the ships. "Attention . . . attention . . . This is Silver Spar group leader commanding Viper pilots to slow to surrender. We are locked on target . . ."
There was no mistaking the human voice that came over his comcircuit. Even as he contined evasive action, Starbuck's mind raced. Silve
r Spar Squadron? What the hell? It could easily be a trick, a vocal synthesizer, it had been tried before. Whoever they are, thought Starbuck, they're very good. Too good. No matter what he tried, he couldn't shake the pilot on his tail. He flipped his own rear scanner to lifeform readout. They were humans!
"Apollo!"
"I heard," Apollo said. "It checks, I've got them on scanner and they read human, but it could still be some sort of trick. The Cylons could have come up with something new we don't even know about. But there's no getting away, Starbuck. Whoever they are, they've got us."
He switched his comcircuit to unicom frequency.
"This is Captain Apollo, strike commander of the Battlestar Galactica. Who are you?"
He heard the woman's voice come back over his comcircuit, talking to her wingmate.
"Bojay?"
"I heard him. But it can't be. They're all dead. It can't possibly—"
Apollo heard Starbuck's voice cut in.
"Bojay? Did she say Bojay?"
"Starbuck!" The one called Bojay sounded as if he had just seen a ghost. "By all that's holy . . ."
Apollo heard the man called Bojay let out a whoop that almost deafened him.
"Apollo!" Starbuck's voice registered shock and disbelief. "It is, it's Bojay! Don't you remember? He was in our squadron until . . ."
Starbuck's voice trailed off.
"Until he transferred to the fifth fleet," Apollo finished for him. "I remember. And they were all wiped out in the Battle of Molecay."
"Two yahrens ago," said Starbuck. "But either they're not dead or . . ."
"We are?" said Apollo. "Don't go spacehappy on me, Starbuck. There's got to be some sort of rational explanation. Either way, they could've had us by now if they wanted us dead. I think we'd better do just as the lady said."
CHAPTER TWO
Flight Officer Tolen looked up from his screens on the command bridge of the Pegasus.
"Alert Commander Cain," he said to one of the officers standing by.
The patrol was escorting two ships back to the battlestar. Two Viper fighters! He switched the comcircuit to public address mode and sat stunned, along with the rest of the men and women on the bridge, as they listened to the exchange between the members of their patrol and the pilots of the two Vipers they were bringing in.
"Bojay"—the man whose voice came over the comcircuit was named Starbuck, a name that seemed to ring a bell with Tolen—"if that's really you, God, I can't believe it! Tell us what happened! How in hell did you survive?"
Sheba's voice cut in.
"You will maintain silence until we've landed aboard the Battlestar Pegasus."
"The Pegasus!" The new voice Tolen heard was Apollo's. They were disregarding Sheba's order to maintain silence. Under the circumstances, Tolen thought, he could hardly blame them. It had to have been as much of a shock to them as it was to him. "That's just not possible," said Apollo.
"The Pegasus was Cain's ship," said Starbuck.
"The greatest military commander of them all," replied Apollo. "He was my idol."
Sheba's irate voice cut in once more.
"Your idol will order you blasted to space debris if you don't shut off your transmitter. In case you clowns don't know it, we're in a sector controlled by the Cylons."
"Oh, my Lord . . ." Apollo went on as if he hadn't heard her. They had just come within visual range of the Pegasus, floating majestically in space. "It isn't a dream," Apollo said in an awestruck voice, "it is the Pegasus! Commander Cain's flagship!"
The Battlestar Pegasus was a sister ship to the Galactica and looked identical to Adama's ship in every way, except for the fact that the Pegasus was slightly older, having been commissioned several yahrens before Adama's battlestar. As they approached the Pegasus, Apollo and Starbuck could see the difference between her and their own base ship. The Pegasus was scarred. They could see where she had taken some severe damage amidships, damage that had been repaired, but still it was the sort of damage that would have sent any other battlestar back for refitting. Only there was no longer anywhere to go for that. Her hull was creased and pitted, burned in many places. The Pegasus looked like an old, embattled warrior. Ships of the battlestar class were the finest achievements of the colony worlds, marvels of sophisticated technology that were capable of taking an incredible amount of abuse, and from what they could see of the Pegasus, it was clear to both Starbuck and Apollo that Cain had been none too gentle with her.
"By the Lords of Kobol," Starbuck said, "will you look at that! What in God's name is holding her together—spit?"
Inside her Viper, Sheba clenched her fists, furious with the Viper pilots they were shepherding back to the Pegasus. They were acting like two awestruck rookies.
"They won't shut up," she said. Tolen wasn't sure if she was addressing her remarks to him or to Bojay. "They're acting as if they've just seen an apparition."
"I'm still not sure I haven't," said Apollo.
Tolen knew that Cain was doubtless listening in his quarters. He wondered what the commander made of this development. Here they were, fighting for their lives in the middle of Cylon controlled territory, and two strange Vipers appear out of nowhere. Where had they come from? The voices of the two pilots seemed human, but Cylons were very devious opponents. It could be some sort of ruse, a trick to sneak two mock Viper fighters aboard the Pegasus. There could even be some sort of explosive devices . . . Just to be safe, Tolen ordered a full complement of warriors to the landing bay.
The four fighters slowed, using their forward thrusters to brake as they made their landing approach. They lined up on the hatchway and waited for the go-ahead from the bridge of the battlestar. Cautiously, Tolen gave them their clearance.
One at a time, they eased their ships forward toward the giant hatchway with the glowing perimeter, the landing bay with its force field that kept the warm molecules of air inside from escaping into space. As each Viper approached the force field, millimicrons before contact, the black boxes wired into their onboard computers were triggered off automatically. The force field's perimeter indicator lights strobed briefly, rapidly, as the ships passed through the force field, as if through a semi-permeable membrane. The entrance of the craft was accompanied by a popping sound as a little of the atmosphere inside escaped, although not enough to affect the environment inside the landing bay. The ground crews inside the landing bay directed them where to land their Vipers and in a short time the pilots were raising their cockpit domes and stepping out into the mob of warriors who surrounded them.
Apollo alighted on the deck, shaking his head with disbelief.
"It's like some sort of miracle, seeing all you guys," he said.
Bojay came up to him and held out his hand. They shook, each staring at the other with a mixture of astonishment and bewilderment.
"Imagine how we feel," said Bojay. "More than two yahrens ago, we set off to attempt to save Molecay and its satellites from the Cylons. Since then, we haven't seen a single human soul."
"Then the rest of the fifth fleet was . . .?"
"Destroyed," said Bojay grimly. "We're all that's left. Thanks to Cain. If it wasn't for the old man, we'd be gone too."
Starbuck had worked his way through the press of bodies to join them. He and Bojay both let out shouts of delight and hugged each other, clapping each other on the back as if the physical contact would assure each man that the other was real.
"You had to have headed away from the colonies to be this far out," said Starbuck. "Why?"
"Cain's idea," Bojay said. "He knew the Cylons would be lined up from Molecay to the colonies, just waiting for us. So he took a heading toward deep space and kept right on going. There was nowhere else to go. We haven't stopped fighting since."
"Running, you mean," said Apollo, appreciating their plight only too well.
"Run?" Bojay turned to face him with an ironic smile. "Cain? He doesn't know the meaning of the word. We're flying strike missions around the clock."
It had been all the Galactica could do just to keep on running. She had to stop wherever possible, anywhere where they could beg supplies or scavenge raw materials. Even so, it had been necessary to cannibalize many of the smaller ships in order to enable them to keep on going. And it was all they could do to manage to defend themselves. Yet, the Pegasus was all alone. And on full strike status. On the offensive!
"You might say we requisition our supplies from the Cylons, Mr. Starbuck," said a new voice.
Tolen had been standing at the edge of the crowd, listening to the conversation. He had gone unnoticed, but at the sound of his voice, the men and women of the Pegasus cleared a way for him. He approached the two pilots from the Galactica.
"Gentlemen," he nodded a greeting. "Flight Officer Tolen. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but right now Commander Cain would like to see you both in his quarters. If you would follow me, please?"
Starbuck and Apollo exchanged glances, then moved off to follow Tolen. Starbuck spoke softly to Apollo as they crossed the wide expanse of the landing bay.
"I grew up on stories of Commander Cain," he said. "The Juggernaut, they called him."
Apollo nodded. Cain had already been a celebrated hero when he was just a boy, dreaming of becoming a warrior someday.
"It'll be like meeting a legend," he said.
On the way to Cain's private quarters, both men kept glancing all around them, taking in the condition of the battlestar, observing the members of her crew.
News of their arrival had obviously spread like wildfire throughout the ship. They were stared at by everyone they passed. Many of the crew members looked as though they would have liked to engage them in conversation, but the presence of Tolen made it clear where he was taking them. It was clear that no one kept Commander Cain waiting.
There was no need for the two of them to speak. Besides having been rendered speechless, each man knew what the other was thinking.