Chapter 7: The Angry Forsaken
Several centars later on the Battlestar Galactica:
"Commander," said Colonel Tigh, "we haven't heard anything from Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Boomer since they sent word that they'd spotted signs of human activity and were preparing to land. Should we send backup?"
Adama seemed particularly burdened as he hesitated for a moment before saying, "No, Colonel, since we appointed Apollo as our ambassador to these people, whoever they are, sending another group down would undercut his authority with the people on Kaylar Epsilon. Therefore, we have to give him time to get to know the people and accomplish whatever it is that can be accomplished."
"Yes, Commander," replied his first officer before Adama moved closer to Tigh so they could speak without being overheard by other Bridge officers.
Adama added, "Tigh, it's not only the negotiations on Kaylar Epsilon, but also with our own Council members who seek every opportunity to undermine me and my family members. With the supply situation continuing to deteriorate and some parties on the Council of Twelve pushing for us to stop immediately, they would use this to force a new vote."
Tigh nodded in agreement before Adama continued, speaking a little louder, "In the event of hostile attack on our ambassador, how long would it take for us to get assets in place to resist?"
Tigh looked to Sergeant Omega who glanced at his mission board and said, "Currently four centars plus nearly a centar for the signal to reach us."
"We can't leave our people that far out on the proverbial limb," replied the commander. "Colonel, lets dispatch two Vipers to the moon of Kaylar Epsilon, where they will go into orbit so they'll be available on short notice if needed. However, they're not to attempt any contact with our planetary ambassadors. For now."
Tigh quickly gave the orders, and a few centons later, two Colonial Warriors received the word: "Launch when ready."
'***
On Kaylar Epsilon:
"Do you think they're ever going to talk to us again, or are they just going to leave us in this dump to rot?" asked a rather perturbed Boomer.
Apollo was lying with his hands behind his head on a wooden cot with his feet propped up on the cross bar at the end. He raised his head a bit and opened his eyes before replying, "Boomer, negotiating is sometimes like an interrogation; they figure that they're sweating us. While you and I know how important this is, these people and their ancestors have just spent almost 400 yahrens in what appears to be a pastoral setting without too many major cares. They don't have a clue how important this is, so when they come to talk, we'll have to convince them."
"I know," replied his friend, shaking his head. "I just wish they'd hurry up about it."
The captain chucked. "It's still at least a centar till daybreak. I'm counting on the people who will ultimately be their negotiators getting a good night sleep so they can impress us with their situation in just a little while. Therefore, I'm trying to get some sleep, too, and, I suspect, it might not be a bad idea for you to do the same thing." His eyes closed as his head descended back on the cot.
Boomer nodded but moved over to the little window to peek out through the bars and what looked like a layer of rather smoky glass beyond. Placing his arms against the high will, he leaned against it and saw darkness and little else beyond. Therefore, he looked up at the sky above and started studying the stars.
'***
Shortly after the local star Kaylar rose above the horizon, a group of people started gathering in what appeared to be a plaza outside their cell. Though he could not hear the words, from what Boomer could tell, the people were quite upset, with shouting, waving of fists, and thrusting what appeared to be ancient farm implements up and down in the air. Two men who appeared to be guards were keeping the mob well away from the side of the building.
Boomer finally spoke, "This doesn't look good, Apollo."
"You're exactly right, Boomer, but that's the next step in making us sweat. It may still be a while before anything happens."
As Apollo had expected, the local star had been up for almost a centar when the door opened and two men entered the outer area just outside the Warriors' cell. The taller man wore what appeared to be a uniform of sorts, with black pants and a black tunic-type shirt made of matching fabric with a six seemingly useless gold buttons on the front in two lines of three each. He had a short beard that matched the color of his clothes almost perfectly, and jet black hat that peaked in the front and tapered to the rear. There was a single gold button on it, with three lines making it look like a pie cut into six slices. Though it was hard to tell for sure with the hat in place, it appeared that the man was completely bald.
The other man was considerably younger and wore black pants with a white strip on the side of each leg, and a tannish-white shirt with two small gold buttons in a single row on the left side of his chest. This man was hatless and was holding what appeared to be a notepad and writing instrument in his hands, while the first man's hands were clasped in front of him against his chest.
Scowling, the older man looked through the bars at the Warriors for a period and then seemed to grow impatient when Boomer sat watching him but Apollo continued to lie on the bed as if oblivious to his presence.
"Rise for the Magistrate, yee imbeciles!" barked the younger man when neither Warrior moved.
Apollo slowly sat up on the bed and then turned toward the men. "Greetings. I am Captain Apollo and this is Lieutenant Boomer of the Battlestar Galactica. With whom do we have the pleasure of speaking?"
The man who appeared to be the magistrate stepped forward and said, "My identity is none of your concern. Why has it taken you so long to come to Six Towns? The revered Captain Shark asked for help when our ancestors arrived over 400 orbits ago, but you wait this long to reply? Why?"
Apollo looked at the man for a moment before answering. "We tried to explain this to the people who took us prisoner. Captain Shtarek never got to send the message about your people being marooned here, so the people in the Colonies never knew you were here."
"Lies! Centuries have passed with our people knowing of the great Captain Shark's sacrifice to send the message so we could be rescued. Now you come as liars spreading falsehoods. I am the magistrate of Six Towns, so you must tell me the truth according to our laws."
Boomer appeared upset and moved toward the bars, but Apollo held up a hand. "Magistrate, we tell you the truth. We came in peace as fellow Colonials and yet you took us prisoner and now insult us. We are still here with peaceful intent, wishing to offer your people news and assistance, but locking us up allows us to do neither. Therefore, I'll tell you. The Twelve Colonies were destroyed by the Cylons in a sneak attack just about two yahrens, or a little over two of your orbits, ago. The people who survived are in ships passing through the Kaylar system as we speak. The Cylons have been behind us ever since the attack, but we're trying to lose them since they destroy everything in their path. Please release us so we can-"
"Enough! You spread lies and promote fear among our people. Those who arrested you said you claimed that the tinheads have hundreds of ships and that there are thousands of them. Why do you try to scare us? Our records show that there were only three tinheads and one ship. This is why you cannot be allowed to speak in public. It would destroy everything that our ancestors have built since coming here."
Apollo took hold of two bars and leaned close to them so he could look at the magistrate squarely between them. "Magistrate, everything we have told you is true. Your records are incomplete or wrong. You don't even know the correct pronunciation of Captain Shtarek's name; how many other things do you think may be mixed up in your archives? I'm telling you that we're here to help you, and, if you don't let us, that the Cylons may show up sometime soon and destroy everything that you have, just like they did to the Twelve Colonies. Now, are you going to listen or are you going to pretend there's not a problem until the Cylon ships drop into your towns and start laying them waste? It's your choice, Magistrate, but I warn you to choose wisely."
Taking a glance at his chrono, Apollo added, "And choose quickly. We don't know how far they are behind us, whether its centons or sectars. Every micron you waste endangers your peopleā¦and ours."
The magistrate's face was bright red as he replied, "I will consider your words." He turned and left, with the other man closing the door behind them. A few moments later, the crowd outside in the plaza started making noise, so the Warriors looked out to see the magistrate addressing them in what appeared to be a fiery manner. A few centons later, he gave a dismissive wave and the crowd dispersed.
Boomer sat down roughly on the cot. "Well, that could have certainly gone better. What do we do now?"
Apollo sighed and was about to answer but he was interrupted by a tapping sound on the window outside the cell's bars. Moving back to the window, both men looked out to see a small, elderly man with white hair peeking inside. He cupped his hands around his mouth and against the window and said, "You are the people from the ships?"
Glancing back to make sure no one was listening, Boomer replied, "Yes. Who are you?"
"I'm Hadrun, a sky watcher. I'm here to help you escape."
'***
