Aquilon
By Two Fifth
Disclaimer: Don't own Battlestar Galactica or any of its characters.
A/N: Hey guys. I wanted to write a story about some of the survivors and how they coped after the Fall. Instead of writing a purely arching plotline, I wanted to follow this specific group of smugglers who have to live with the realization that they are part of the poor, lone remnants of humankind, still doing the same jobs that they've always done while remaining undetected by Cylon forces. In their loneliness aboard their small ship, though, is a lot of hilarity, drama, and cohesiveness that would prove difficult for any Cylon to exterminate.
The somewhat-AU world that this crew inhabits is vast and sparsely populated. The people on the outskirts are the ones left behind, and they're not all nice and helping.
What I really wanted to write about is a story of family and love, and the hardships endured during a post-holocaust. I hope you enjoy their adventures as I write them.
On Metal Wings, Part 1
"Well, it's the stupid little thing I always wanted."
- Kaiser
He walked past Mason, his medic, and out of the infirmary, removing the ice pack from his lips and tossing it in the trash. There was little talking amongst the crew since a job hadn't gone wrong in about a month until now. His lieutenant met eyes with him as he descended the stairs down into the cargo bay, which, for the moment, was being used as a brig. He wasn't one to take prisoners—though he often took people who needed to get through the outskirts and return to one of the bigger colonies. John Cyrus, his first mate, gave him a nod when he approached the crummy set-up table in the middle of the loading area, and with a sigh, he sat down and cracked his back, which had been sore from the brawl just hours before.
"You throw one hell of a hook," he started. "My lip doesn't appreciate that too much."
She was blonde. Tall. Tan. Sexy. She looked like she belonged on the main planets (or, what used to be the main planets), which struck him particularly odd. And here she was, her hands tied tight and her body literally belted down to the chair. Strong and adept as she was, it limited her range of motion and she could not move save for leaning in and out. It was useful for hearing.
"What is your name?" she asked, her eyes piercingly fixed on him.
Her behavior was quite shifty, as well. He felt that she was reading his every action, calculating what she will do next. But, the gesture was friendly enough.
"Christopher Kaiser. Captain," he answered. "You?"
She smiled. "Cassandra."
"Just Cassandra?"
There was a slight pause. "Yes."
Kaiser nodded and reached into his pocket. "Alright. That's fine by me. Cigarette?"
"I'm incapable at the moment."
She wanted out of the bondage, which warranted a moment's consideration. They had guns anyway; it wasn't like she could do much.
He tilted his head. "You promise to behave?"
"I'll be good."
With a glance, he requested Cyrus to free her, but had his gun at the ready in case she was going to do something unruly. However, she remained civil and even thanked him for doing so. Cassandra sat back down and crossed her legs in a ladylike fashion as he handed her the pack of cigarettes. After lighting his own, he went and lit one for her. She did not take her eyes off him.
"Where are you from?"
"That tattoo on your arm," Cassandra noted, ignoring his comment. "Is it military?"
He looked down at his left arm and chuckled. "No. It's part of my culture. Tauron culture. It's where my family came from."
"What does it mean?"
He exhaled smoke. "What if I told you it meant nothing?"
"Everything has a meaning," she said. "Every gesture has importance."
Kaiser looked down at his tattoo once again and chuckled.
"It tells my history. I come from a family of warriors. And you're pretty insightful—I was in the military."
"A girl's got to be smart to be able to live out here. What branch?"
"209th Vanguards. Army," he answered. "Then I was brought up to the 5th ROD."
Cassandra did not shift her position. "Recon and Observations Detachment?"
He took another drag from the cigarette, his suspicion elevating exponentially. "Yeah."
But, this was no time to be playing games, and since he did not care of her knowledge anyhow, he refused to let the suspicion sit in his gut.
"That's pretty creepy," he told her, somewhat taking her by surprise.
"What?"
"How the hell would you know what the 5th ROD is?"
In a way, Kaiser threw his former unit out there to see if she'd bite.
Cassandra slightly looked away. "My boyfriend was a marine."
"Interesting. Explains his gorilla behavior," he said.
She looked back at him, and he was looking right through her.
"I think it's damned rare to find a female such as yourself out here in the 'skirts," he told her. "Not too many women of your—very aesthetically pleasing—features could be found out here more than a hundred paces of a whorehouse."
All she did was exhale smoke across the table, unable to speak.
"Take along with that the utter beat down which you gracefully inflicted upon my soft, delicate tissue," he continued. "And the calculated words, the wonderful military guesses, and oh, the creepy frakking stares. And don't forget, the insanely jealous boyfriend who was at my throat earlier."
She smiled. "Maybe I'm in love."
"It wouldn't work out. I'm kind of a dick," he assured with a nod.
"What are you getting at, Captain?"
"You don't have complete control over your behaviors," he said. "I mean, I've known some crazy ass women in my time, but you're different. Not the special kind of different."
Cassandra smirked. "You're getting closer."
"Some of my friends back in the intelligence community warned me about your kind," he said. "And judging by the fact that billions of people have been completely blown to Hades, it's a note worth justifying."
She was unresponsive, but maintained her amused expression.
"The way you act is like a dog without its master…or the next best analogy you can think of," he told her. "Right now, you're simply limited to a range of actions because you no longer have that comfort of network. There's no more certainty. No more hive-mind."
He put the cigarette to his mouth and took another drag.
"That's Cylon behavior," he said, breathing out the smoke.
Cassandra's eyes flickered as she leaned in closer to him, putting the cigarette out on the table. There was an intensity in the way she moved, and it felt different than her other gestures. It was still sinking in that this was a human-like object talking to him.
"Tell me, Captain Kaiser," she said.
He was a bit concerned with where this conversation was going.
"Do you believe in God?"
"Alright, Brie," Kaiser said, cracking his neck. "Please tell me we're getting close."
Brianna Rhodes, his pilot, looked back at him and gave him a nod.
"Hey, Cap," she grinned. "Fancy sneaking up on me this morning?"
"I was looking for young vulnerable pilots to ambush and kill."
"How barbaric, sir."
He shook his head. "I'm not down to be hanging on to this cargo any longer."
"Yes, I believe I made that connection."
The helm was incredibly frigid since they had been cutting back on power as of late. There hadn't been enough cubits going around to maintain the heat circulation, and all of the fuel had been directed towards pushing the ship much further. The crew, for the most part, had been suffering for a good section of the week.
She frowned a bit. "We're low on gas, Kai."
"I'm well aware of that, and I'm also very, very well aware that if we don't land soon, my balls will be frozen together," he replied with an exaggerated edge of desperation. "You don't have any balls, do you?"
The brunette pilot rolled her eyes. "Can't say that I do."
He leaned forward towards the console. "Then please have sympathy for those who do and land soon. Gods."
She giggled and cuddled in her blanket, rocking the seat back and forth. "Forty minutes. We're pushing her awfully hard, sir."
"It's okay," he said, looking at the ship around him, then leaving. "She can take it."
Captain Christopher Kaiser was not a very smart man. He figured that out himself when he failed to fly with any of the escaping fleets that were headed out to—well, actually, he didn't know. Wherever they went, he only hoped that they could find some land soon so he'd be able to get away from Cylon space forever. Since there were no more large ships left that could fly without the Cylons obliterating them to bits, he had become a part of the unlucky selection of human civilization that had to survive on what they could. One of the more remarkable parts of humanity that he had been reminded of after the catastrophic holocaust was how well they were able to survive. He hadn't seen such feats since his days in the ROD.
Ironically enough, the concentration of humanity to survive were the ones damned on the outskirts. The miners, slave traders, bandits, low-level entrepreneurs, and "unlucky" residents banished to a life of misery were still out there, hiding from Cylon extermination teams and the like. What he had guessed was that the Cylons had overestimated humanity's ability to survive, and perhaps they just didn't have enough bullets. However, he did remember hearing the news and on broadcast, he saw the bombs dropped on the larger planets.
To some extent, he was a criminal (at least back when there was law), which forced him and his crew to operate on the non-desirable fringes of space. In some ways, he was proud to admit that it had saved the lives of him and his crew, and in many other ways, he believed that some of the things he smuggled were perfectly legitimate.
For the most part, they often worried about Cylon ships being able to detect them, but they found ways to avoid dradis readings. It wasn't much different from avoiding the authorities back in the day. Since there were other survivors in the deep reaches of space, he concluded that the Cylons were probably expending resources looking for them instead, including the guess that there were much more important people on those fleets than useless folk like him.
What he had heard on some settlements, though, was that some Cylons were able to look like humans, which was bizarre to him, but not completely out there because he had heard word of it through the intelligence community once. He figured that the only way the Cylons could have dropped the nukes was through the security mainframe, so it didn't seem too farfetched that the Cylons could have been constructing android replications.
He had never encountered one himself, however.
"Kai," yawned a voice from the hallway.
As Kaiser ended his trek through the hallway and towards the kitchen area, he noticed Gabriel Borden, one of his security officers fumbling through the kitchen.
"Kai, there's no coffee left," he whined, half-yawning.
"Use gunpowder. Coffee's for sissies," Kaiser said, walking through the dining area.
Gabe gave him a preposterous look.
"Top-left cupboard," the captain directed, pointing. "And call me when you make some, I'm in dire need of some caffeine."
"Thank the gods. I was literally going to throw a shit fit."
Kaiser was exiting the kitchen and towards the armory.
"That smells like your kind of fun," he remarked, causing Gabe to scowl. "Is Cyrus up?'
"Yeah, doing his gun thing in the armory. Hey, you need an extra guy with you down there?" Gabe shouted after him.
"Not this time, Gabe. Don't want to appear too unfriendly."
He made his way down a corridor, then proceeded to make a left through the open door. Unlike more modern vessels, his ship didn't have the luxury of automated doors, which he liked because it used up less overall power. Kaiser walked past a workbench to his left and rows of guns to his right. His second-in-command was at the end of the room, putting together weapons for their brief, but potentially dangerous trip.
"Just checked in with Brie. We've got maybe forty minutes at most before we hit atmo."
"That's a lot of time."
Cyrus, a man who towered over Kaiser at six-foot-four, was a former Recon Marine that he had known well before the Fall. They were stationed at the same fire base during their respective careers in the service and had known each other professionally. Since their fire base was posted in the outskirts, they built a more personal relationship, and when the Cylons came, they were the only ones who survived the extermination team sent to wipe them out. None of their comrades made it.
"Yes, it is," Kaiser replied, looking down at the weapons. "We concealing on this one?"
"Harvester's Settlement is a sizable hub with security detail. Weapons are allowed for carry, but I wouldn't count on them being too comfortable with strangers packing heat."
He nodded. "Alright. PDWs only."
His shipmate raised an eyebrow.
"You don't plan on shooting anyone, do you?"
"I don't plan on getting shot."
Cyrus gave him a reprimanding look.
"How tight is security?" Kaiser asked.
"We're delivering cargo to a family-owned business," his lieutenant told him, an eyebrow raised.
He considered this for a moment.
"Handgun and tomahawk."
Cyrus grimaced at the thought of the tactical tomahawk that his superior enjoyed carrying around. "Hey. No hatchets, Kai. You're going to scare the kids."
"It's good family fun," Kaiser answered, walking back out of the room. "I'm getting dressed."
"I don't know how they did it," he told her, inspecting her face. "How in Hades do you look so real? There must be thousands of you out there."
Cassandra sat back. "You didn't answer my question."
He put his cigarette out and looked away for a second.
"It's complicated," he said. "I haven't spoken to any god in a while."
"Maybe that's why so many people died. They stopped believing."
"Funny. I'm still alive," Kaiser remarked with a smile.
"Not for long."
He lowered his hand down towards the gun holstered on his waist.
"If that's a threat, fruit-lady, I hope you've got some bullets to show for it."
There was a sentimental look on Cassandra's face as she observed the ship around her. The moment was awfully quiet, but it was serene.
"Everyone dies."
Kaiser raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Is the machine getting all philosophical on me now?"
She looked back at him. "We're all just part of the plan. We play roles, and when it's over, it happens again."
Cassandra was speaking ambiguously, which indicated to him that she was trying to take charge of the conversation. Though her words were unclear and ultimately meaningless to him, it was still fascinating. For the moment, though, he was entertained despite feeling an increasing desire to shoot her in the head. It was her kind that wiped out humanity, which bothered him deeply even though he had long been cut off from Colonial affairs.
"I thought machines were smart."
She didn't reply to this.
"You should know there's no plan out here, robot," he said. "It's just black, desolate, and miserable. It's interesting that your kind believes in a god. Well, unless you're just playing mind games."
"It's your insecurity. It's hard to believe someone when you've been on the run for the last several years," she replied. "And yes, maybe I'm just playing with you."
She was trying to get under his skin, which amused him a bit. Fortunately, though, he was used to taking polarizing words.
He chuckled. "Joke's on you, then. Machines pretending to be spiritual; what a laugh riot."
"It's a very human thing to ignore. God spared you for some reason, along with the other survivors out here."
Kaiser slowly shook his head. "No. You don't understand."
He put another cigarette to his lips and lit the end, taking a quick drag and exhaling the smoke, letting it dissipate into the air.
"You're trying to make sense of places that have been long forgotten by the rest of humanity. If there is a God, he left this place long before you came here."
"I'm not an extremist, but I do believe."
"I believe, too. That you're a toaster," he told her. "Although, a very sexy looking toaster. Doesn't matter. I ought to kill you myself and dump you on this rock before you alert the rest of your mass-murdering family."
There was a visible expression of fear on her face which he managed to catch. It was strangely satisfying.
"I can't contact them."
He leaned in just slightly. "What was that?"
"I'm not networked with them anymore. Like you deduced," she clarified.
He put out his cigarette, which was only half-finished. "If there's no community, then fall back on faith, right? Or maybe it's something else that's got you talking about spirituality."
Then she was uncomfortable. Kaiser shot her a predatory glare with a smile that only lions would have when they stalked gazelle.
"Are you afraid to die?"
They landed the skiff at the parking area, surprisingly full of human activity. This was his first time at Harvester's Settlement, and it certainly left an impression on him. He and Cyrus got out of the skiff and eyed the several other small ships that took up the space. Kaiser was glad that he forced the crew to park at the docks instead of the mountains; they could get supplies much faster.
"Don't remember it being this big," Cyrus commented.
"Don't want to stick around too long," Kaiser replied on a whim, unzipping his leather jacket. "Let's get the job done."
Cyrus looked at his multifunctional device and tapped the screen.
"Brie and Mason have landed at the market," he informed. "They're getting some supplies and restocking some food. I miss ribeye steak."
"Brie?" Kaiser asked, talking over his multi.
"Yeah, Cap?"
"Don't be wasting too much money on useless shit," he told her. "And nothing too flammable. Don't want another accident in the kitchen like last time."
"Wacky times, right Kai? It brought the whole crew together and all."
He groaned. "Just don't spend too much money."
After turning off the connection, he lowered his multi and put it away, looking at Cyrus.
"That girl's going to kill me one day."
"Yeah," Cyrus remarked. "All that military training and you get taken out by some girl."
They walked towards the dock exit after paying for parking. Compared to other settlements, this one was huge, and Kaiser wanted to leave soon because it stood out so well on the map. The town in the center was populated with at least thousands, not to mention the travelers who come in and out. The outer edges were arranged with short trees, rolling hills, and vineyards; it held an Etruscan streak that brought about a sense of sophistication and serenity. And yet, it was a wonder how this town managed to avoid Cylon patrols—then again, patrols barely passed through this part of the colonies. They were at the ass-end of the galaxy, so even toasters wouldn't want to be out here. Yet, the people who lived here made this place beautiful.
There were a lot of kids here. It seemed that humanity was quick to repopulate, though he wondered what kind of person would want to bring a child into this nether-realm. At times, it felt like they were the only ones left alone to die alone. Chance and her cruel jokes. Kaiser and Cyrus crossed the street and walked into an office building that looked like it was not only housing several small businesses, but also families. Often, he wondered how many survivors escaped from the colonies to find radiation-free lands, only to discover that out here wasn't much better. He walked past a group of punks that eyed him like they owned the place. Compared to what was out there, these punks were a safe haven.
In the less populated areas of the outskirts existed unfriendly folk like marauders and slave traders. He had seen (and done business with) his share, and in many ways, he was disappointed. Assuming that the fleet had been hunted down and slaughtered, he figured the rest of humanity was doomed to living like barbarians again. Not that he was judging, though, since he was not far removed from the kind.
There were stands outside of the office building selling Harvester's Settlement souvenir items, which seemed ridiculous to him since it made no sense to have a tourism industry during times like these. It brought around business, shockingly enough. Kaiser approached the stands and eyed around. Immediately, he noticed a woman standing next to some grocer selling some fresh fruit. She was tall, tanned, and honey blonde, with a damn-near perfect figure—the kind that was hard to run into out here.
"I'm going to go use the bathroom," Cyrus said. "Check out the scenery a sec, would you?"
Kaiser nodded, already walking towards the blonde as his lieutenant left. "Yep."
She was dressed like how a space traveler would dress. Boots, utility belts, flight vest, and sunglasses. Perhaps what really drew him to walk over were the tight pants. When he walked over, she greeted him with an intrigued glance, as if she were waiting for him to make the next move. There was comfort, suspicion, and curiosity emanating from her stare, and they ended up trading gazes for a moment before one of them spoke.
"I like fruit," Kaiser said with a smile.
To his statement, she let out a soft giggle. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Is that weird?"
"I don't think so," she said, pretending to consider his question. "Fruit's colorful. It's attractive. Cute. It's tasty. It has character."
Kaiser nodded in a deadpan way. "Mm. For a stranger I just met, you're describing me very well."
She let out a good laugh and brushed her hair away. "I wouldn't know about that. You look like the type that's hard to figure out."
It was an interesting comment.
"I feel like there's a connection here," he told her with a smile.
"Really?"
"Of course," he told her. "Because I travel so much, I'm forced to make good with lots of strangers right off the bat. It tamed my more ignorant streak long ago."
"I envy you," the blonde replied, tilting her head just a bit. "I always wanted to go to other places; to see the other side of the rim."
Kaiser considered her attire once again. "You look like you get around a lot."
"I'm a security scout and mining supervisor on the weekends," she replied.
"You'd definitely look good doing both."
She slightly blushed. "Thank you."
"Cass?" a voice said from behind him.
Kaiser turned around and saw a taller, larger man than he was but didn't budge. The blonde gave him a somewhat concerned look and faced him. There was anger written all over the man's face as he broke their little interaction.
"There you are, babe," she said, but couldn't pull his attention away.
He looked and fit the description of the typical pea-brained marauder who was quick to get into violence and even quicker to betray for money; numerous tattoos, worn clothing, and a misplaced sense of ego were the typical symptoms of bandititis. But since there were more security guns here, Kaiser was sure there'd be no bloodshed anytime soon; not that he would have minded.
"Who the frak is this?"
"This is my friend," she said, quickly excusing him.
Kaiser held out a hand. "Hi. We just met."
The larger man shoved his hand away.
"Troy, don't."
He continued to walk towards Kaiser, pushing him away.
"You picked the wrong girl to talk to today, dipshit."
The brute then proceeded to shove Kaiser a good distance.
"HEY," Kaiser raised his voice, causing people to look at them. "No violence."
The security guards nearby gave their attention to the scene that was about to happen, but Troy was a smart enough animal to notice the social pressure, scanning his surroundings and noticing all the glares that were sent his way. He delivered a scornful look at Kaiser for just one second, then turned away, snatching the blonde by the arm and marching off with her. Kaiser stood there for a moment and contemplated as the situation dissipated and people returned to the rest of their day. She was cute.
"Figures. I leave for one minute and you try to get a fist planted on your face," Cyrus spoke as he returned from the bathroom.
"I should have been an animal trainer, Cyrus," Kaiser told him. "Let's go."
Cyrus followed him into the building, and they both shared a quiet moment before being bombarded with several shop signs down the next hallway. Maintenance shops, arms dealers, and even skiff rentals. Then, the Spiros Tech sign appeared in glowing letters.
"Here it is," Cyrus noticed. "After you, Captain."
Kaiser stepped inside the large row of offices that have been converted for Spiros Tech use. It was a small, but reputable company on this side of the outskirts but it did not compare to homemade material. Despite that, this job was supposedly going to pay well. They were going to hand over shipments of various digital parts that were vital to the town's safety. It was a noble enough cause to take up (at least, that was Kaiser's excuse).
When he entered the lobby, it was quite busy, with mechanics moving back and forth and managers ordering people around the office. He wondered where their manufacturing plant was—it was probably near the mines. He walked up to the front desk and approached the secretary.
"Hi," Kaiser said, walking up.
The secretary turned to him. "Hello. What can I do for you today?"
"We're here on business," Kaiser added. "I'm looking for your boss. Is he in his office?"
The secretary nodded. "Yes. And your name?"
"Apache."
It was his call sign back in the military, and he often used it during first-client business runs like this just for safety. The secretary nodded and phoned in the boss's office.
"Mr. Spiros, an 'Apache' here to see you."
"Send them in," a voice complied over the speaker.
She looked up at them. "Good luck."
"Thanks."
"Yes," she answered. "The truth is, I'm very afraid to die."
He took a breath. "Are you sure it's not just some programming within you to answer like that?"
"To be fair, humans have genetic programming to give them a fight or flight response based on various parameters."
"Well played," he nodded. "That's true. And is it not so different from Cylon programming?'
Cassandra shook her head. "We modeled ourselves after humans."
"Interesting," he stated. "I have no doubts that the Cylons tried their hardest to make their latest models seem as human as possible."
"It gives you fewer reasons to shoot me."
"Yeah, but there's still that whole 'dropping bombs' thing that happened, or so I hear," the captain sarcastically retorted.
He pulled out his gun, which caused her eyes to dart directly at his hand. Kaiser put it on the table, sensing the considerable amount of fear that this Cylon was going through. It wasn't too difficult to break past her mental fortifications, but to him, breaking past them meant something else.
"Unlike most people who like to categorize, I'm a fan of individual responsibility," he said, standing up from his seat. He rounded the table and paced behind her.
Kaiser was inspecting her body, and noted some of the scars that she had garnered in her time on the outer rim. She had probably lived here for about a year and change, and life alone out on the rim, especially if you were a model blonde, was definitely not easy.
"What your kind did was unforgivable. But I won't be blaming it on you anytime soon."
There was no intimidating edge to his voice. He spoke about it like it was a simple fact, like it was easy, and because of that she was frightened. Kaiser ran his fingers across a scar on her back, then felt one that was lined on her neck.
"You run into slavers before?"
She didn't want to answer, and instead remained quiet, looking down at her thighs. It was a touchy subject, so he stayed away from it. The scars stuck in his mind for a while, though; he had a particular dislike for slavers.
"You don't have to answer that," he said. "But you do have to answer this: why were you at Spiros Tech?"
"We were supposed to intercept the cargo you brought."
"I'm sure this brilliant plan was proposed by your boyfriend?"
She glared at him.
"But since you're a toaster, you must have ulterior motives for intercepting high-tech security cargo."
"No."
"It makes you look awfully suspicious. If I were a Cylon humanoid, I'd probably be purposed to spy. Were you spying on humans? Was the big man who was with you a Cylon, too?"
"I was disconnected long ago," she answered. "I couldn't tell you why I was there. I just ended up there, like everyone else. I had to make a living…like everyone else."
"Everyone else, like as in, other Cylons?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "Other people."
"Do you know what I find ridiculous?"
He walked to the other side of the table and leaned forward with his hands propped on the surface.
"Cylons hate people so much, but can't help trying to look like them. Can't help wanting to feel like them. Can't help wanting to be them," he said. "Maybe that's the real reason why you guys bombed us to hell. So you have no one left to compare to."
She looked up at him. "They say we're the next step in evolution. Humans are flawed."
"I definitely agree," he nodded. "But, you know, mass-genocide also kind of taints the track record for a supposedly superior race."
"That's fair, Captain. Not all of us can make sense of the hypocrisies of the Cylons. Not even me," she told him.
He thought about what she had said, and a smirk came upon him. "Big shoes to fill, being an individual. Do you really dissociate yourself from the groupthink society you come from?"
"I don't know anymore. All I can do is see the universe with my own eyes."
For the most part, he wondered if she had been toying with him this entire time. Programmed machines will have infinite reserves of willpower and will power through all situations if they must, but she was different than what he had thought.
"I really hope you're being true," he said, sitting back down in his seat. "Because there's still a bullet waiting for you."
The office had that colonial feel to it, with portraits of the owner's home world and various drinks from different planets. It seemed like some people never truly left their colonies, and carried it with them wherever they went. Kaiser was reminded of the difficulties of adjusting to life in the outskirts, which was only different in that it was much quieter and there was a higher chance of getting robbed.
"Oh, man. This is nice," Spiros nodded, taking the keys from him and placing them on the desk. "I can take your word for it?"
He was an older man, probably in his fifties, but still had a youthful streak in him. Like any other job that Kaiser had taken, this one was sure to go fast and easy.
"I wouldn't make it this far across the 'skirts to lie to you," Kaiser smiled. "The cargo's in that storage bin. I hope you make good use of it."
"I'm really still shocked you guys came all the way over here in a crummy little boat. What class is it again?"
Cyrus and Kaiser traded glances, each one understanding that those last words were some of the most idiotic things they had heard today—and they were often experts in speaking idiocy. Spiros poured himself a drink.
"Chariot class," Kaiser answered. "Her name's Aquilon. She's a little worn, but I take care of her."
"Oh, I mean no disrespect. Chariots can run forever with little fuel."
Cyrus nodded. "She is a reliable ship."
"And you did your job quite fine," Spiros added. "You ever think about taking on full employment?"
The old man was trying to hire him. Kaiser was sure he paid well, but some of their other jobs paid much better.
"No," he answered. "It never crossed my mind."
"I could pay you much more for making deliveries for me. Set you up with a home for you and your crew. Get bonuses."
"I'm sure that's nothing but the truth coming from you, but no thanks. I like my home as is."
"You really love being out there, don't you?" Spiros asked, shaking his head with a grin. "You must've been out here in the rim forever. It's just hard for guys like me to start over again after what had happened on Aerilon. I even had some businesses set up in Caprica City."
"It's the life for me, Mr. Spiros. The Aquilon is my freedom."
The older man nodded. "Freedom? Is that so?"
"Well, it's the stupid little thing I always wanted," Kaiser replied with a modest chuckle.
He laughed. "Very good, then. Your payment is on the desk—"
And the glass window next to them shattered, the bullet flying right through and pounding Spiros on the torso, sending him tumbling to the ground. Instantly, Kaiser and Cyrus moved away from the window, each of them letting their instincts take over and finding cover. In his mind rushed only one question. Where? He looked over to Cyrus with a demanding expression.
"Right building," Cyrus said, completely calm. "He's got a suppressor."
It meant that the shooter was close. Kaiser sent him a nod and eyed the desk.
"Let's get our pay and get off this rock."
"Roger that."
Cyrus went over to the desk and promptly swiped the cubits that would pay for food and fuel in the future, along with the keys to the cargo that they had just put into storage this morning. Thankfully, it wasn't in the path of the window. Kaiser examined Spiros's body from a distance, noting the wound type, the caliber, and the velocity of impact. They both headed for the door.
"Guy's carrying a 7.62 x 51mm subsonic. Hollow point," he told Cyrus as he drew out his pistol, pointing at the massive exit wound on the old man's chest. "These bandits are getting better arms by the day."
"Guess it's no use getting touched on this one."
He wondered if the big man earlier had anything to do with this, but there was no time to think.
Kaiser reached the door, standing off to the side in case there were enemies behind it. "It never is with snipers. Ready?"
Cyrus waited behind him and patted him on the shoulder in a tactical fashion. He swung the door open and quickly swooped inside the room from the corner of the doorway, gun in hand and ready to shoot. One bandit stormed in the room with a shotgun, bandoliers hanging over his shoulders. They looked very militant, dressed like mid-level mercenaries and armed to the teeth. Before he could assess what was happening in the room, though, Kaiser surgically placed two bullets on his chest, which was protected with a thin layer of armor. Luckily, though, the bullet was enough to penetrate the armor and stop his heart. The man stumbled to the ground and never got back up, and he went into cover.
As soon as he got to cover behind a workbench, he realized that the people in the offices were completely out of control, screaming and yelling for their lives. He didn't care. Cyrus followed him and shot off one round. He heard the thump of a collapsed body.
"You showing off, Cyrus?" Kaiser asked, acknowledging his partner's headshot.
His lieutenant peeked around the corner of the workbench and scanned the working area. "Oh, you know me, Cap. I like to save bullets."
"You save bullets," he remarked. "Bullets save me."
Some submachine gun fire peppered the metal workbench above them and flew into the drywall, but the fire was spread across the room. They didn't know where the two were located, and were wasting bullets. When the shooter stopped to reload, Kaiser automatically popped out of cover and laid two rounds to his chest. It was very mechanical work, shooting, and to them, it was not far removed from breathing, or walking.
Cyrus moved along the side of the room and the Captain followed. They made their way to the end of the room, and were soon about to approach the lobby. It was the same routine again. This time, Cyrus stood at the door and Kaiser waited behind him, then patted on his shoulder. They busted into the room with their guns out, but there was no one to be found, which prompted them to scan a little longer. They could hear yelling from outside, as well as some gunfire downstairs as the guards were fighting off the rest of the bandits.
Then a bullet flew through the glass and nearly hit Cyrus in the back. They scrambled for cover once again with Cyrus cursing at himself for not being careful.
"I'll take care of the sniper," he said, heading back to the other room to pick up a rifle from one of the dead bodies. "We won't be able to leave."
"Roger that. I'll clear the other rooms," Kaiser said.
Taking a breath, he saw that the secretary's office was slightly open. He took careful steps towards the door, carefully stepping in bare spots as to not make any noise. When he got to the door, he took a breath and kicked it open, but as he rushed in, he was met with a knife from the side of the door. He dropped his gun and dodged it with urgency and grabbed the arm of the raider, and with little effort, leveraged it so that it snapped at the joints. Following that, he planted a knee to the man's chest and then threw him to the ground, face-down. Kaiser reached to his side and grabbed the steel alloy tomahawk that was hanging on his back, and without thought, swung it full speed into the back of the raider's neck, instantly killing him. He put his foot on the attacker's back to allow himself to lift up the broad end of the tomahawk, and he placed it back in it sheath on his back.
Back in the service, the tomahawk garnered him his call sign, Apache. He enjoyed the simplicity of such a tool as well as the intimidation factor. No one wanted to be on the business end of a frightening axe.
He looked around for his gun but couldn't find it, until he heard the hammer cocking behind his ear, and froze.
"Don't move," a feminine voice said.
She hesitated. Kaiser used this as an opening and spun around, knocking the gun out of her hand. He noticed that it was the blonde from the fruit stand outside. They both looked at each other, perplexed and astounded all at once.
"Fruit-lady," he replied. "Wait a sec—"
With surprising speed, she tackled him down, causing him to grunt with surprise, and started throwing punches, which he barely dodged. After a few punches, he managed to catch her arm and use her weight to throw her off of him. Kaiser stood up and rubbed his abdomen; it took a surprising amount of abuse.
"Calm down."
She threw a number of punches and kicks, which he dodged rather easily, though it ended up cornering him into the refrigerator. He ended up able to grapple with her and lock her one of her arms, but she struggled out of it and booted him into the fridge with surprising force. Kaiser groaned in pain, but couldn't recover as the blonde woman came up to him and grabbed the side of his head. Swiftly, she slammed his head into the upper fridge, which made him bounce back towards her, and she punched him square in the jaw and sent him right back into the fridge. Then, she landed a roundhouse kick that almost completely landed square on his ribcage. He hit the fridge once again and fell to the floor.
"Frakkin' A," he grunted.
He was beginning to think she was a man in disguise.
Kaiser panted on the ground while on all fours and recuperated while she was regaining her breath. He hadn't gotten himself beaten this badly in a long time—especially not by a woman. Part of it was that he underestimated her and it completely tipped the odds in her favor.
When she was done, she reached down and tried to pull him up standing, but he managed to surprise her and overpower her at the last second, slamming her against the fridge that he had just received a beating on. Instantly, he drew his tomahawk and forced her onto the desk, smashing her back into the surface and placing the cutting end of the broadside onto one side of her throat. With a quick slash, her blood would be all over this desk.
She paused.
"Enough of this," he commanded, looking right into her eyes. She did not flinch.
Then Cyrus entered the room with a rifle in his hand.
"Got him Kai. We should get—WHOA," he stopped mid-sentence, aiming his gun.
Kaiser removed the tomahawk from her throat and backed away.
"Steady now," Cyrus said. "Did you just fight with the lady from outside?"
He stopped awhile to take his breath. "Where the hell were you?"
Cyrus was confused, and it took him a moment to make out what had happened between them just seconds before.
"Did you get your ass kicked?" he asked sincerely.
"How frakking perceptive, Cyrus," Kaiser remarked half-sarcastically. "No. I actually had her against the ropes."
He groaned and cracked his back.
"I'm going to feel that one tomorrow," he continued. "I think all my organs are tenderized…"
Cyrus looked between them for a second, then started laughing at the hilarity of the situation. This continued for a good moment while Kaiser regained his strength and absorbed the humiliation.
"Can't believe I missed it," his lieutenant said. "Good family fun?"
Kaiser took a moment before answering.
"We should've brought PDWs."
His second-in-command laughed some more. After a moment, the laughter subsided, and the gun was still pointed at the blonde.
"You want me to finish her?"
He gathered himself.
"No. Something's a little off here."
Kaiser bent down with a pained grunt and snatched his handgun off the floor, aiming it at her. She put her hands up and alternated glances between them. He looked at her again, and was trying to wrap his mind around why she was so much stronger than other women her size. It was quite eerie, and at the same time, piqued his curiosity.
"You're coming with us," he said. "Cyrus, is everyone back on the ship?"
"Brie and Mason are at the market right now," Cyrus answered. "It's on the other side of town."
He smirked. "Well then. We have some time."
"Clock's running out, Cassandra. One last question."
She was confused and afraid at the same time.
"Why should you be spared?"
And for some reason, she could not come up with the kind of answer that would satisfy a human. He could see the distress written all over her face.
"Well?" he pressed.
"I don't know what you want me to say," she answered.
Kaiser shrugged. "I want to know what you think. Not what I think."
She shifted in her seat, and took a few moments before committing to her answer. "I should be spared because I have the right to live. Because I exist."
To those words he chuckled, and even looked over at Cyrus who understood his laughter. He rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath.
"If only the Cylons listened to its own kind, we might all get along much better," Kaiser said, looking down at the table. "It's been a long frakking day."
She was completely at his mercy, which was a position that he often did not like being in. Time and time again, though, he had to make decisions that affected people's lives—an unseen responsibility of a smuggler. Maybe it was just his attitude that put him here; who knows.
"I always wanted to see the other planets," she said. "We promised each other we'd see them together."
Kaiser ran a hand through his black hair and shot a looming glance towards Cyrus, who was established solemnly in the corner with a cold, ready pistol comfortably clutched in his right hand. He contemplated on abandoning the Cylon as soon as Mason and Brie returned from their increasingly lengthy shopping trip.
"They're stunning. Peaceful. I never bothered to live on the main colonies."
Another look came his direction as she hung on to every last word that he spoke, understanding that the situation was mentally draining on both parties. Before she could speak up again, an electronic voice buzzed from Kaiser's multi, provoking him to answer. He brought the device up into view and read the touchscreen.
"Captain? It's Mason."
The voice was shaking with trepidation.
"You sound like you just shat your pants," Kaiser told him.
"They took Brie. Raiders. They ambushed us on our way back to the ship."
An accusatory glare beamed upon the Cylon and instantly she felt her chances of survival rapidly plummeting.
"Also, I think I'm shot. Let me check—yep, that's blood. That's my blood."
"Just hang in there, kid. We're coming," he assured over the connection, fixating his eyes on Cassandra.
"Don't think so, Cap. They got me pretty good," his medical officer told him. There was a cry of pain. "I'm sorry, Kai. I'm sorry."
"Cyrus, fire up the skiff. Now," Kaiser commanded. "Call Gabe."
His lieutenant nodded. "Are we bringing PDWs?"
"Carbines and rifles. I'm not looking for defense."
Then, there was no more chatter from the other side. The connection closed between them and the multi was silent. Cyrus scrambled to the skiff, located just next to them and delivered a message to the rest of the ship. Kaiser sure hoped that Mason wasn't dead. If he was they'd be short a medic, and more importantly, a family member. There'd only be a few of them left on the ship. Five if anything happened to Brie. Rapidly, he swiped the gun off the table and aimed it at the Cylon's head and fired off one round. She gasped.
"That's a warning shot," he told her.
She whimpered a little, simultaneously relieved that she was still alive and that he had actually aimed it just a little off.
"You know where the next one's going if you don't tell me where your bandits took my pilot," he stated.
Cassandra started to cry.
"This isn't a game anymore, robot," Kaiser continued. "You don't tell me, I'll kill you. And you know what? I'll tear this entire settlement apart to find my pilot, and when I find that crazy frakking boyfriend of yours, I'm going to kill him, too."
She tried choking back a sob so that she may speak.
He shook his head. "She deserves to live. She's not a sinner like you and me."
Cassandra finally gained the strength to talk. "I'll…I'll show you where they took her."
From above the cargo bay, Gabe, fully geared, emerged and descended the stairs, carrying weapons with him in each hand. He reached the bottom step and hurled a heavy rifle towards Cyrus and handed a carbine to Kaiser with a sense of eagerness, to which Kaiser chastised with a glare. He received extra ammunition from Gabe and placed it on the table, pacing over to a locker nearby. Kaiser popped open his locker and put on a tactical vest over his shirt, which was layered with a sheet of armor and had several pockets for ammunition. Afterwards, he carried a larger vest over and tossed it to Cyrus.
Kaiser carried over his tomahawk from the locker and approached her. He sheathed the tactical axe behind his back and gestured for her to get on the skiff.
"Get on. We're going hunting."
In this chapter, I really wanted to introduce two vital characters: Kaiser and Cassandra, because the true, main plotline is really about them. One is a rather cynical, weathered captain who is trying to keep his crew together and the other a lost, out-of-place Cylon who has an unbridled desire to see the outskirts. The next chapter will conclude this episode. I hope you enjoyed it.