Chapter Twelve: The Sixth Sense



John, what's wrong?

Crichton looked up to Sheba as she touched his arm. You looked troubled there for micron.

I don't know, John said, acting like he suffered from a sudden chill. Ever get a bad feeling? You know, like something is not right?

Many times, Sheba replied. My father even had this sixth sense when it came to Cylons. He actually felt them before we picked them up on sensors.

John only nodded without answering. He was still trying to shake that feeling of dread that was haunting him down to the very pit of his stomach. Only minutes before, he was with Sheba in the city's crowded market place, seeing what this commerce planet had to offer them. D'Argo, Jool, and Rygel were shopping for equipment and supplies on the other side of the city.

For the first time in a long while, he'd forgotten some of his problems and was enjoying Sheba's company. She was peppering him with questions about Earth and he was in the middle of attempting the impossible task of explaining the game of football to her and she was actually listening. Then, it was as if his subconscious had somehow sensed something that his consciousness had failed to fully register yet. A little voice that was insistently screaming in the back of his mind, saying that something was wrong.

No, correct that. Something was horribly wrong.

He tapped his comm unit. Pilot, is everything okay up there?

John waited for a moment, fighting a growing urge to panic, before trying again with growing urgency. Pilot, do you read? Aeryn? Chiana? Is anyone listening?

There was no response. Sheba tried her comm unit, but had no luck either. With a shared looked of worry, both Humans turned about and left the market, heading back to the transport.

John tapped his comm unit again. D'Argo, Rygel, Jool, get back to the transport immediately. Drop whatever you're doing and get there.

We're leaving? Rygel answered in surprise. I was in the middle of making a great deal for some...

The Hynerian was interrupted by D'Argo. What is it John?

I'm getting no answer from Moya, we're going back up to see what's wrong - Now!

Hurrying on to meet the others, John and Sheba made their way up the city street, returning to the spaceport and their transport which awaited them on the massive landing pad.

I'll warm up the engines. John said as they walked up to the transport, about to open the outer hatch. Then his eyes wandered for a moment at the ships parked about them and he noticed a new one that landed next to their transport when they were away. It was eerily familiar in design and colour. It was as big as a shuttle, but it looked something like those small fighters that had tried to attack them before.

John drew his pistol.

Sheba mirrored John's action, drawing her blaster. What is it?

John nodded towards the shuttle next to them. Does that look familiar somehow?

Sheba stared at the shuttle and recognized the similarities too.

John held his pistol at the ready. I'll take that as a yes.

Several armored figures suddenly leapt from their hiding places about the landing pad. Charging out from behind vehicles, crates, and ships. They looked like Sebaceans, dressed in heavy grey armor and protective skull caps, wielding what looked like oddly shaped pistols.

Blue bolts of energy erupted from their hand weapons, barely missing both John and Sheba. The two Humans ducked under the transport, seeking cover next to one of the large landing gears of their ship.

John returned fire on the attacking soldiers to his left, while Sheba fired upon the group on her right.

To his astonishment, John found his pulse bolts fired from his pistol were merely bouncing off of their armor. Behind him, he heard Sheba's loud blaster being discharged repeatedly. He looked over to see if she was having better luck with her weapon. Much to his relief, she was driving the attackers from her direction back. She'd already taken down three of them and her blaster was simply smashing through their armor like they were made of egg shells.

Sheba! Your weapon is the only thing that can stop them! John shouted before returning fire again.

His pistol was almost useless, but if he could slow them down enough, it would give Sheba time to pick away at the bad guys with her weapon.

Where's D'Argo and the others? John thought. They sure could use their help.

John suddenly felt Sheba slamming against his back, almost knocking him forward.

Sheba? What are you...

He turned, looking down to see Sheba's unconscious form next to him with faint blue energy still dancing over her body.



Before John could do or say anything else, he too was stuck by a blue energy bolt. It enshrouded him, causing his muscles to lock up in horrible pain before he lost all control over his body. John dropped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

Gasping for breath, John struggled to move as darkness clouded his mind. Laying helpless on the ground, the only thing he could see was Sheba still laying beside him, unmoving. He couldn't tell if she was alive or not.

As darkness slowly drew over his eyes, the last thing he was able to hear was the heavy footsteps of their attackers gathering around them. Then nothing...