Chapter Eight
Tani stood in the iron grip of a Chobatar, blaster held to her temple; Orcus lay in a crumpled heap on the ground; and Ortega had disappeared over the edge of the ravine. All this penetrated Starbuck's thoughts as he stared numbly at the Chobatar's blaster he held in his hand.
It was a dual-setting, Colonial blaster with a stun setting.
Relief flooded him as he noted the weapon was set on stun. His eyes flickered to Orcus who was merely unconscious and not dead, as he had first assumed. Kardon leaned over the cadet checking his pulse and nodded briefly as he met Starbuck's gaze, relief evident on his face.
"I said, don't move!" The Chobatar yelled again, as he jammed his weapon under Tani's chin, angling it upwards.
"Easy there." Dorado told him from where he was held, flanked by rebels. The sweat ran off his forehead and into his eyes, and he blinked as he assessed the situation. Tani was doing her best to hold it together, though her eyes looked as though they would pop out of her head. Starbuck lay, half sitting on the ground near the edge of the ravine, looking dazed. Kardon was leaning over Orcus, nodding in satisfaction, as his fingers continued to monitor for life signs.
"I've had enough of your lies. Shut your mouth!" The Chobatar leader snapped, his body taut with tension, also surveying the scene before him.
Four of his men and two of the Colonials were down. He sneered at Ajayi who was writhing on the ground, hands held protectively over his groin, gasping for breath. Taken out by a mere woman who had not even required the weapon she usually carried at her side. Her most effective weapons were her gender and his stupidity.
Bandele was unconscious, his attacker not far from his inert position. The dark blond cadet was slowly re-holstering his weapon, under the watchful gaze of Halian. The Chobatar leader recognized him as the one who had convinced them that the Colonials meant no harm. Lies.
Sedurni and Kayin were also unconscious and lay near the stunned cadet. His other men had formed a small circle around the Colonials and Natana was peering over the ravine checking on the last intruder. That cadet was too close to the coca fields. He needed to be removed . . . or eliminated. "Natana?" he asked.
"He's alive. He looks injured though. His leg, I believe." Natana replied. "I could shoot him from here and end it all. They have trespassed on Chobatar land, Virote. They should pay the price."
"Wait just a micron . . . " Dorado started.
"Silence!" Virote hollered at him as he started muscling Tani down the hill. "We will decide your fate. We now know you are incapable of speaking the truth." He sneered at Starbuck who gazed back steadily. "Dima. Your thoughts." He looked to his brother.
"If we kill them, their forces will descend upon us seeking revenge." Dima replied as he helped push Dorado towards the others.
"We must avenge ourselves. Gukamatz demands it!" Natana argued.
"Gukamatz is not a vengeful God, Natana. You assume too much if you try to speak for him." Dima countered calmly.
"It is our way!" Natana insisted.
"No. It is your way." Dima replied.
"It is the way of war! There are casualties in battle." Natana countered.
"But not here. Not now. The only man truly injured lies at the bottom of the ravine. Unless you count Ajayi." Dima smiled ruefully at the Chobatar who had finally struggled to his feet, hands still protecting his nether regions. "Then there is our new agreement. If we want things to continue as they are, we had better return these striplings to their commanders. Our fight against the Mazurians is far more important than this squabble."
"You speak sagely, brother." Virote nodded. He again assessed the Colonials. "You." He indicated Starbuck. "Get up. If your hand so much as brushes your weapon, I will shoot the woman."
Starbuck climbed slowly to his feet with his hands raised. He winced slightly as his head throbbed, but an aching head meant he was still alive. If the Chobatar leader listened to his brother, he should stay that way. He drew a deep breath to steady himself, once again feeling slightly light-headed.
"Go see to your friend with the unusual hair." Virote ordered him. "Bring him up here. Now." He watched as the cadet nodded slightly.
Starbuck lowered himself over the edge, gripping rocks and tree roots as he descended, thankful for the handholds. He blinked repeatedly, trying to clear his blurring vision. There was no way in Hades Ortega would be climbing back up if he was injured. Frack, he had his doubts about whether he would make it back up, the way he was feeling now. That was the problem with adrenaline; it was fleeting, and left you feeling drained.
"He may not be able to climb, Virote." Dima pointed out as he looked down at the warrior far below, cradling his leg and writhing in pain.
"Then they can follow the ravine to leave our territory. Regardless, I want them all out of here in twenty centons. Who's in command here?"
"I am." Dorado replied quickly.
"Then pick up your fallen comrade and get out of Chobatar territory." He roughly pushed Tani towards him.
"Our weapons?" Dorado asked, catching Tani in his arms. She clung to him as a terrified child might for a couple microns before composing herself.
Virote considered him for a moment. "Very well. But if you try to use them, I will simply shoot your friends dead as they climb the ravine. Now, get off our land and don't come back. If you do, I will not concern myself with offending your superiors."
Starbuck was breathing hard as he made his way down the treacherous ravine. The descent was so steep in parts, he was cursing that he had not thought to use a rope. Lords, he was cursing about a lot of things about now.
His head was throbbing painfully with each beat of his heart and every time he turned his neck, it sent a stabbing pain through his right shoulder. He couldn't believe that he was risking his neck to save Ortega, of all people.
Starbuck glanced down at the purple noggin not far below him. Ortega was looking up at him in shock, as he realized, probably for the first time, just who his would-be rescuer was. He shook his head in dismay and closed his eyes, his face twisting into a grimace, as his hands wrapped tightly around his injured knee.
Starbuck climbed down the last few metrons and stared down at the upturned face of Ortega while he caught his breath. Blood was oozing down Ortega's right temple and his face was a mixture of scrapes and cuts. He actually looked like he had slid most of the way down the hillside on his face: so really, by all accounts, he should be fine.
Starbuck sighed as he thought about the next centar or so it would likely take for them to hike out of there. Ortega would need help. Frack, he'd practically have to carry him. Maybe he should take a page from Apollo's book and try and make the best of it. Perhaps they could put their colourful past behind them and work together. Hades, it might even be the impetus to end their three yahren old feud. Yeah, he should really try to put some effort into it. That would be the mature thing to do. The responsible thing. After all, Ortega really was hurt.
"You look even uglier than usual, Ortega." Starbuck muttered down at him, his course of action from microns ago abandoned, as Ortega sneered up at him.
"What the frack are you doing here?" Ortega growled at him.
"Believe me, there was no request for volunteers on this one." Starbuck replied, pulling his pack off and kneeling down beside the cadet. "I like your hair. Very progressive. Have any avians tried to mate with you?"
"Shut the frack up, Starbuck. If you're here to help, then do it, so we can get out of here." Sweat mixed with blood and ran down Ortega's face in torrents.
"Well, the tribunal's still out on how much help I can be. How bad is the leg?" Starbuck asked, hesitant to actually touch the snitrad.
"I can't put any weight on it." Ortega told him.
"You've tried?"
"Of course, I've frackin' tried! Especially when I realized it was you who they were sending to help!"
"Well, falling off a mountainside hasn't improved your disposition any." Starbuck muttered as he pulled his med kit out of his pack.
"And dropping out of a tree didn't help yours!" Ortega rejoined.
"Look Pal, it was you who got us into this mess. The Chobatars would have let us go peacefully if you hadn't decided to attack them. Now, lie the frack down." He pulled out the biomonitor and began running it over Ortega, pushing him back somewhat forcefully.
"Do you actually believe that? Lords, you're naïve Starbuck. We would have had to fight our way out of this one way or the other." Ortega argued, resisting the pressure on his chest.
"Really? Then why are they standing up there watching us, instead of using us for target practice?" Starbuck snapped back at him, nodding towards the Chobatar leader and his brother. "They said it themselves, Ortega. Their fight isn't with us. It's with the Mazurians. You guys blew it. You put everyone at risk. They shot Orcus for Sagan's sake!"
"Is he . . . ?" Ortega asked hesitantly. He remembered Orcas collapsing, but by then he was being sucker punched by the biggest, meanest Chobatar he had ever seen. The next thing he knew he was tumbling down the ravine.
"They stunned him." Starbuck replied. His right hand ran lightly over Ortega, following the path of the biomonitor as it scanned him. "Dorado and Kardon are carrying him out of here."
"Stunned him? How?" Ortega asked in surprise, not noticing Starbuck slip something into his pocket.
"Maybe you haven't noticed, but these guys aren't exactly lacking in technological sophistication. They're carrying the new blasters. The ones we've been expecting at the Academy." Starbuck scanned Ortega's knee, hesitating as he surveyed the readout.
"What's it say?" Ortega asked.
"Your knee's fracked." Starbuck replied without hesitation. He reached into his pack.
"Well, tell me something I didn't know. What in Hades is wrong with it?" Ortega asked in frustration.
"I'm a frackin' viper pilot, not a med tech. How should I know?" Starbuck replied angrily. "There's nothing broken, but you can't stand on it. If I could read this thing properly, it would probably tell me you twisted something or tore something. Well, news flash, I can't. As usual we have every piece of electronic felgercarb known to man, and we're not any further ahead. Satisfied?" He sat back on his haunches and wiped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his jacket. A small smile crossed Ortega's features, and Starbuck realized he had probably just smeared dirt all over himself, but he really didn't care.
Ortega took a deep breath. "This isn't helping."
"Oh, great. Now you're going to turn into the voice of reason. Why me, Lord? Why me?" He muttered skyward, stealing another surreptitious look at the Chobatars. They didn't look too pleased with the fact that they were still there.
"Can you make a splint?"
"Yeah." Starbuck replied after a moment. He pulled more gear out of his pack, cursing yet again, as he realized that Dorado had the splints in his larger kit. "Give me your pack. Let's see what you have."
Ortega nodded handing over his gear. He watched as Starbuck tore through it in frustration, finally pulling out a thick roll of tape. A micron later, he started slicing through Ortega's pack with a large knife, removing the frame.
Starbuck pulled the blaster out of his holster, for the first time having the opportunity to get a good look at it. He adjusted the setting on the laser, and was soon cutting through the frame and setting aside four pieces, each about thirty centimetrons long. Again, he grabbed Ortega's pack and started slicing through the thick canvas, cutting a strip slightly wider than the support bars. He placed the bars across it evenly and taped them in place. He held up his makeshift splint.
"Let's try it out." Starbuck suggested as he waited for Ortega to lift his leg.
Ortega nodded and soon the splint was in place. Starbuck wrapped several more layers of tape around it for good measure.
"Where did you get the laser?" Ortega asked as Starbuck finished up.
"I took it off the Chobatar that shot Orcus." Starbuck replied meeting Ortega's eyes. He handed it to the man to take a look as he scavenged supplies from his pack and added it to his own.
"Nice job." Ortega muttered quietly, handing the laser back.
Starbuck just nodded, uncertain whether he was referring to disarming the Chobatar or to making the splint. "The moment of truth. Let's get going."
"Can you give me something for pain first?" Ortega asked, weary at bearing any weight on his leg.
Starbuck sighed as he pulled on his pack. "I can't carry you, Ortega. I need you alert. Let's try it with the splint first. If it's too bad, we can give you a painkiller later." He climbed to his feet and stretched out sore and tired muscles, before leaning down and putting an arm around Ortega. "Ready?"
Ortega nodded, and together they got him on his feet. He grunted in pain as his bad knee took some weight.
"Lean on me." Starbuck told him, adjusting his grip.
"How long can you hold up?" Ortega asked breathlessly as they started along the ravine. Chobatar eyes continued to watch them.
"Long enough to get out of this pit and comm for help. I doubt we'll be in range down here." His head was again throbbing with his exertion.
"You know, I wouldn't do this for you, Starbuck. Why in Hades are you doing it for me?" Ortega told him honestly.
Starbuck stopped and looked Ortega in the eye. "Because I'm a wonderful guy. Just ask me."
----------
Each step was agony as they climbed out of the ravine over a centar later. Starbuck lowered Ortega to the ground and collapsed beside him, his body shutting down from adding insult to injury. His skull pounded and nausea hovered ever so closely so that every time he swallowed he was sure he was going to toss his mushies.
He lay on his back looking up at the grey sky, a gentle mist caressing his face, as he caught his breath and tried to make his fingers grasp his comm unit to get the help he knew they needed.
"I really need something for pain." Ortega spat out between clenched teeth. His knee throbbed despite the splint and a couple times, as Starbuck nearly lost his balance, he had come close to blacking out from the spasms wracking his leg.
Starbuck snorted. He needed something for pain. Or just a head transplant. He glanced around looking for available heads, but there didn't seem to be any extras lying around.
"Starbuck . . . " Ortega begged. The guy was acting as if he was the one who was injured. Lords, why couldn't it have been Kardon who had been sent to help him out of there.
Starbuck took a deep breath and rolled over, pushing himself onto his knees. He slipped the pack off his shoulders and pulled the med kit out. His hands were shaking as he tried to work the clasp to open the kit. He clenched his fists willing the trembling to stop.
"Sagan . . . " Starbuck mumbled as he again tried to open the kit. Success. He pulled out the preloaded hypos within and tried to distinguish one label from the other. The letters blurred into each other as he studied them.
"Starbuck!" Ortega hissed again. He looked at the cadet who was rubbing his eyes blearily. He didn't look so good. "Starbuck?"
Starbuck handed Ortega the hypo. "What's it say?" he asked wearily.
"Adrenaline." Ortega replied after a moment. "Let me." He pulled the med kit from unresisting fingers and rifled through it until he found a painkiller. "Here," he handed it back, desperate for some relief.
Starbuck tried to focus on the hypo that Ortega held out to him. He knew the odds were damn poor that all five syringes before him were actually there. The middle one was likely the best choice. He reached out for it . . . with all three of his right hands.
Ortega pushed the hypo into Starbuck's wavering hand, a little reluctant to have the shaky cadet inject the drug. But, then again, he sure wasn't up to doing it himself. For the first time, he realized he wasn't the only one suffering. He took a good look at his adversary.
"You look like mong." Ortega muttered as he took in the pale, diaphoretic countenance before him.
"Feel like mong." Starbuck mumbled as he watched Ortega pull off his tunic and offer a deltoid.
"Can you do it?" Ortega asked squeamishly.
"Yeah." Starbuck grabbed a piece of Ortega's flesh and activated the hypo. It did the rest.
Ortega lay back and closed his eyes for several centons as the agony was gradually reduced to a dull ache. He grabbed Starbuck's pack and reached for his canteen, slaking his thirst. Suddenly, he heard a comm unit crackle to life.
"Flight Leader Apollo to Cadet Starbuck. Do you read? Come in, Starbuck."
Ortega looked over to see Starbuck lying on the ground next to him, eyes shut and exhaustion etched in his face. He gave his shoulder a shove. "Starbuck."
"Apollo to Starbuck. I repeat, do you read?"
Ortega shook the shoulder this time. "Starbuck! The comm."
"Frack off . . . " Starbuck muttered. Lords, he was tired. He would have to pry his eyes open if he really needed to. His head pounded a little less intensely if he didn't move it, and there was this sweet, sinking sensation just beyond the brittle sound of Ortega's voice . . . if he could only get back there.
" . . . Out of range still . . . " Apollo's voice came through.
Ortega reached over and grabbed Starbuck's comm himself, unsure of what channel Phoenix Squadron was using. "Cadet Ortega to Flight Leader Apollo. Do you read?"
"Cadet Ortega, Flight Leader Apollo here. What's your position?"
"Frack, I don't know. " Ortega muttered aloud, as he looked around blankly. To Apollo he replied, "Stand by." Starbuck had been keeping track of their position. At least he thought so. Starbuck had led them out of the ravine. Ortega supported his leg and moved himself closer to inert cadet, who had rolled away from him in the opposite direction. He reached down and gave him another shake. "Starbuck, where the frack are we?"
"Chobataria." Starbuck muttered, eyes still closed. No, that was wrong. "Mazuria."
"What's our position?" Ortega shook him again, this time lightly slapping his face. "Wake up."
"Hey," Starbuck protested, knocking the hand away. He looked up to see Ortega fading in and out above him, which only made his nausea worse. "Stop that . . . " he moaned and he shut his eyes again, refusing to vomit.
"Frack." Ortega muttered as he rolled Starbuck over and pulled his GCS unit off his belt. He checked the coordinates. "Apollo, we're at 4 degrees, 36 centons north; 74 degrees, 5 centons west."
"Dorado reported in almost a centar ago and told me what happened. He said you were injured. Are you mobile?" Apollo asked tersely. "And where's Starbuck?"
"No, we're no longer mobile. Starbuck's here, but he's kind of out of it." Ortega replied. "He just . . . collapsed. I don't know what's wrong with him."
"Could it have anything to do with being dropped out of a tree onto his head?" Apollo asked pointedly.
"He didn't land on his head." Ortega immediately denied. Or did he?
Apollo sighed into the comm. "Put your personal communicator on standby and we'll use it to pinpoint you. I think we can get a landram in to pick you up. Keep Starbuck awake. It sounds like he might have a concussion. That's an order."
"Yes, sir." Ortega replied grumpily. He should have known. Even in injuries, Starbuck had to outdo him.
----------
It had been thirty centons of Hades since Ortega had talked to Apollo. He had managed to prop them both up against a tree, hoping that the upright position would help Starbuck stay awake. It had. For about five centons. Though he could hear the landram in the distance, he reached over and once more shook Starbuck, as he watched the cadet's head loll onto his chest. "Wake up."
Starbuck lifted his head once again and glared at Ortega. "What?"
"The landram's coming . . . thank the blessed Lords." Ortega replied. Starbuck simply nodded and rested his head back against the tree trunk. "Stay awake. Apollo ordered you to."
"Oh. Well, why didn't you say so to begin with?" A faint smile touched Starbuck's lips.
Ortega shook his head. His sentence with Starbuck was about to draw to an end. What an ordeal! Anything he had done wrong in his life, he had more than atoned for in the last ninety centons. In fact, he probably had a few transgressions owed to him by now. Hades, he had been a bloody saint, trying to keep the fracking, pain-in-the-astrum cadet awake.
Ortega heard the landram come to a stop through the thick vegetation, about twenty metrons away. Within microns he could hear voices calling out for them. "Over here!" he shouted.
He could feel relief flood his body as the stern, but dependable face of Sergeant Brand appeared with a med tech, with Colonel Diallo bringing up the rear. The men jogged over to the cadets.
Ortega reflexively thrust back his shoulders and stuck out his chest as Diallo neared. Just the mere sight of the man caused backs to straighten within fifteen metrons.
"At ease, Cadet." Diallo told him humourlessly. His keen eyes ran over the young men, taking in their ragged appearance, Ortega's purple hair, and . . . Starbuck's shiny new weapon. Frack! He kneeled down beside the drowsy cadet, eyes on the blaster. "Cadet!" his voice was clipped as he watched Starbuck's eyes fly open and try to focus on him.
" . . . Sir . . . " Starbuck mumbled. He raised his hands to his head in hopes that he could prevent it exploding. He closed his eyes again as he felt the bile rise in his throat and his head pound relentlessly. " . . . Ohh . . . " he groaned.
"Check out Cadet Ortega's leg, son." Diallo told the med tech.
"But . . . " the med tech started to argue, knowing that a head injury was far more critical than a splinted knee.
"That's an order, Zhi." Diallo said. "This one has a concussion. That much is clear. Sergeant Brand, help me get Cadet Starbuck aboard the landram. We'll send Murata and Silus back to help with Cadet Ortega."
"Uh . . . yes, sir." The med tech replied dutifully as he watched Brand and Diallo reach down, grab the cadet by the jacket and start to pull him to his feet. "Sirs, that might not be a very good . . . "
Abruptly, Starbuck's position changed from mostly horizontal to vertical. His eyes flew open as he started to protest, but his stomach betrayed him and he immediately vomited all over Sergeant Brand's jacket.
"Frackin' piece of mong . . . !" Brand exclaimed as he shoved the cadet roughly away.
"Easy, Sergeant." Diallo said in a low, controlled voice as he steadied the weaving cadet. "I've got you, Cadet. Take it easy."
Starbuck clung to Diallo's arm as the world reeled beneath his feet. He shook his head, painfully aware that he had just disgraced himself all over the Sergeant. Meanwhile, klaxons were sounding in the back of his mind, but he couldn't for the life of him recall why he would be in danger.
"Cadet Ortega, that particular shade of purple hair is against regulations. I expect it to be corrected by tomorrow." Diallo barked as he turned for the landram.
"Yes Sir." Ortega replied, biting his lip.
Starbuck felt Diallo's strong hand pulling him along by his flight jacket, and tried to focus, as blurs of green and brown only made him feel more disoriented and nauseous. He could vaguely hear Brand cursing him colourfully and thoroughly as he was dragged along.
Suddenly, he was slammed up against a hard, rough surface and Diallo was nose to nose with him . . . which couldn't have smelled too good, considering he had just puked.
"Where the frack did you get this?" Diallo pushed the weapon into Starbuck's line of vision, unaware that it was only one more blur to the cadet.
Fireworks went off in his skull after his head struck the trunk of the tree. His answer was a groan of pain and he felt himself slipping down the tree, only to be grabbed again and shoved back against the bark.
"Answer me!" Diallo ordered him.
"What the frack are we gonna do?" Brand asked in a fear-filled voice. "He must know, Diallo. He must have been the one in the hangar. Why else would he keep one of the Chobatar's blasters?"
Fury filled the Colonel as he glared into the dazed face of Starbuck. He couldn't help but wonder if somehow Imara had been a part of it. She had sworn up and down that they were in a romantic little glen having a lover's spat that night. She had even reassured him that she had no intention of seeing the young man again. But what if that spat had been because his daughter had been in the hangar too? Or perhaps Starbuck had told her what he had seen and heard. Hades, truth be known, the Colonel had expected that all along, but he had wanted so badly to believe his daughter. He had to find out. And Brand couldn't be there when he did.
Diallo grabbed a fist full of Starbuck's hair, yanking his head back viciously. "How much do you know, cadet? Tell me." He stared into bewildered eyes.
"Nothing . . . " Starbuck muttered as pain, nausea and a penetrating awareness overwhelmed him. He grasped ineffectually at Diallo's hand.
"Why do you have this blaster then?" Diallo growled as he stared into the young man's eyes, trying to search for the truth in them.
"Rebel shot . . . Orcus. I took it . . . from him." Starbuck explained, wincing as his scalp felt like it was ripped from his skull. He omitted the fact that he knew it was a new dual-setting Colonial blaster.
"And just what did you intend to do with it?" Diallo asked him.
"Nothing, Sir . . . " Starbuck insisted.
"I don't believe him, Diallo." Brand muttered as he hovered at Diallo's shoulder.
"Brand, get Silus and Murata from the landram. Tell them to go get Med Tech Zhi and Cadet Ortega. Make sure they take their time about it. I need to discuss something with this boy."
"I'll make sure they don't interrupt, Sir." Brand nodded.
"I knew that you would." Diallo replied as he continued to stare into Starbuck's eyes coldly.
Starbuck swallowed the large lump that was in his throat. Cold fear filled him and he tried to get control of his exhausted body, knowing he might only have one more chance. He planted his feet and thought about his next move as his hands clutched feebly and incompetently at Diallo's iron grip. Realistically, he didn't have a hope in Hades.
"You've put me in a difficult position, Cadet. Do you understand that?" Diallo asked him, almost sympathetically. Then he struck.
Starbuck didn't even see it coming as the iron fist plowed into his gut. The air rushed from his lungs, and for the second time that day, he gasped, unable to breathe. His legs crumpled beneath him and Diallo let him slump onto the damp ground. Starbuck curled into a ball, one hand over his gut and the other protecting his head, as he waited for the next blow, still gasping for breath.
Diallo squatted down beside the young man who had clearly been in the wrong place at the wrong time. A shame really. He had been a good pilot. He listened to the pathetic squeaks and wheezes that relayed to him the kid hadn't started breathing properly again. He could hear Brand skirting around his position with Murata and Silus. He didn't have much time. Med tech Zhi would want to assess Starbuck soon.
Diallo grabbed Starbuck by the lapels and thrust him onto his back. He kneeled over top of him, his knee firmly wedged between the kid's legs. He nudged his knee firmly, but slowly upward. The kid sucked in his breath. Guaranteed to make a man start breathing every time. And just as effective at reversing the condition. Brand had taught him that. But then, Brand enjoyed that kind of thing.
"How much does my daughter know?" Diallo asked between gritted teeth.
Starbuck shook his head as he tried to squirm up and away from the increasing pressure. Diallo responded by grabbing him by the throat.
"How much does she know?" Diallo hollered as he tightened his grip on the cadet's windpipe, occluding his airway.
Starbuck clawed frantically at Diallo's hands, unable to break his grip. Just when he thought he would black out, the grip eased and he sucked in deep breaths of air, filling his starved lungs once again.
"How much?" Diallo asked again, his voice cold, clipped and low.
"Nothing . . . " Starbuck wheezed.
"And you?" Diallo drawled, his face centimetrons from Starbuck's. He stared into fear-filled blue eyes and saw the answer clearly written in their depths. "I thought so," he whispered gently, as though he had somehow found enlightenment in the disclosure. And perhaps some justification in his decided course of action.
Starbuck gazed back at him and saw his own death just as clearly. His energy surged and he thrust his thumbs into the Colonel's eyes, hurling his body upwards and slamming his knee into the Colonel's lower back. He used his upper body to help propel the Colonel over his head.
"Aarrgghh!" Diallo shouted as he crashed into a huge plant, the sharp foliage tearing at his face and hands. His eyes were on fire and he rubbed at them, reassuring himself they were still intact. He tried to scramble blindly forward, distancing himself from the spiny foliage and Starbuck, when he heard a reassuring stampede of footsteps coming his way.
Starbuck rolled over slowly, spent from his exertion and just making it on to all fours, when Brand and Silus crashed on to the scene. Brand assessed the situation on the run and landed a sharp kick to the Cadet's ribs, which sent the young man sprawling. The Sergeant ran to the Colonel, helping him regain his feet. "Secure him. He'll be charged with assaulting an officer." Brand hollered to Silus, just as med tech Zhi and Sergeant Murata ran up pushing Ortega's hover stretcher.
"What happened?" Zhi asked as he moved toward the Colonel. The officer's face was scratched and his eyes watered relentlessly as he rubbed at them.
"He got away from me." Diallo spat as he looked meaningfully at Brand.
"Sir? Brand asked for clarification while he watched Sergeant Silus pull Starbuck's hands behind his back and secure them, while the cadet lay face down on the ground.
"I decided to search him when we got back to the landram. He was wearing a Chobatar sidearm and seemed agitated when I asked him about it. Well, you know how out-of-it he seemed, so I thought I would take a chance at searching him myself." Zhi and Brand both nodded their agreement. "He went ballistic. He tore out of the landram as if Diabolis himself was chasing him. Of course, I pursued. I managed to tackle him here."
"Well done, Sir." Brand praised the colonel.
The colonel shrugged selflessly. "Search him Brand. I'm curious what it is he's hiding."
Brand nodded, patting the cadet down only briefly before reaching into Starbuck's pocket and pulling out a pouch. "Sir." He tossed it over to the colonel.
"Good man, Brand." Diallo opened the pouch. He sucked on his finger and dipped it into the contents, removing it to reveal a luminescent white powder. He cautiously tasted it, "Pure Mazurian coca."
Ortega's eyes widened in amazement. "Holy frack . . . " he muttered as he saw Sergeant Silus trying to pull Starbuck to his feet. The cadet was retching and doubled over in agony only making it to his knees, and completely unaware of what was being said scant metrons away.
Brand pivoted around to face Ortega. "Cadet Ortega, what do you know about this?"
"Nothing, Sir. He must have made the deal before we met up." Apprehension filled him as Ortega saw accusing faces turn his way. "I swear I had nothing to do with this, Sirs! I've never used coca in my life!"
"Easy son. I believe you." Diallo told him empathetically.
"Uh, sir, what happened next?" Zhi asked as he made his way over to the retching cadet, motioning for Silus to let him lie back down.
"Well, he ran for it. I caught up to him here and managed to tackle him. However, I'm not as young as I used to be. He was getting the better of me when you arrived, I'm ashamed to say." Diallo's eyes flickered to the ground briefly. "Thank the Lords you got here when you did."
"Are you all right, Colonel?" Brand asked conscientiously.
"I will be. A bit worried about this eye though. I still don't have my full vision back." Diallo said and he saw Zhi look up at him curiously. "He gouged my eyes."
Zhi nodded in distaste as he started his assessment. The cadet still seemed strangely dazed and disoriented for a guy who had escaped the Colonel, ran away from the landram, and subsequently assaulted the officer. He ran his biomonitor over his patient. Concussion, multiple contusions and fractured ribs, no doubt courtesy of Brand the Butcher. Starbuck's head lolled to the side, as he winced and moaned in discomfort. "Easy there cadet." He reassured him professionally.
"Can we move him, Zhi?" Brand asked.
"Yes. I'd like to get the other hover stretcher though. I don't think he can walk back to the landram." Zhi told them.
"Bovine mong. He ran away from it. He can walk back to it." Brand snarled. He nodded to Silus. "We'll help him." They pushed aside the med tech and hauled the cadet roughly to his feet.
"Sergeant Brand, wait." Diallo ordered him as stood in front of Starbuck, grabbing his jaw and staring balefully into his eyes. "Cadet Starbuck, you are being charged with assault of an officer and possession of illicit drugs for the purpose of trafficking. Do you understand?"
Starbuck shook his head, as the words penetrated his mind. He was sure he was in the middle of a horrible dream. He opened his mouth to deny it all, but words failed him, as he stared back helplessly at the Colonel.