Jeepers, creepers
Where'd you get them peepers?
Jeepers, creepers
Where'd you get those eyes?
Gosh oh, git up
How'd they get so lit up?
Gosh oh, gee oh
How'd they get that size?

Jeepers, creepers
Where'd ya get them peepers
Oh, those weepers
How they hypnotize

-Louis Armstrong

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Creepers

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All the deckhands had flooded onto the deck once Slipdog's Viper got in. Everyone had heard about the dogfight, and that he was lucky to have survived. They really wanted to see how bad it really was.

As they pulled it down into the deck, everyone's mouths were wide open in awe.

The Viper was being pulled onto the deck via tractor pull; however it had barely gone four meters when the Viper broke off with it. It appeared that the nose of the Viper had been fractured during the dogfight, and had now finally shattered. The Viper collapsed with a loud CRUNK. The Viper pointed to the ground and also leaned to the side, for a wing had been destroyed. The engines were blown to hell. The cockpit window had been cracked, and, apparently, enemy fire had managed to hit right through the window. Many hoped the pilot was still alive.

Tyrol and several deckhands got a stepladder and got it to the side of the Viper so they could get to Slipdog in the cockpit. Tyrol climbed up the ladder and looked inside to see Slipdog. The pilot's visor was fogged up by breath, for Slipdog had breathing like he had been choking for air, and his helmet had burn marks from enemy fire.

As soon as the cockpit window opened, Tyrol flicked the lock on Slipdog's helmet, and the pilot manically threw his helmet off and allowed it to crash on the deck.

"HOLY FRAKKING GODS!" he cried.

Tyrol's hands vanished within Slipdog's frenzied hands as they both struggled to get the pilot out. The pilot was near to insanity.

"What the frak happened!" gasped Tyrol.

"We're out on patrol," Slipdog said, receiving shock and shaking incredibly as if he were stricken with a heart attack; "me and Zapper. We, we, we, had no idea what was in there. But, Zapper, he, he went in and—"

"Keep talking; and please stop moving your hands!"

"Well, well, we went nearby the, the, the, um, the— hey, I got it, lemme try it— asteroid belt – stop it! – and Zapper went in. He, he, he didn't come out for twenty minutes, so – I frakking said I got it! – I went in, and then I found 'em. They were— TYROL, I SAID I GOT IT!"

"Calm the frak down!"

"GET ME OUTTA THIS FRAKKING JUNK HEAP, THEN, GODS DAMN YOU!"

Tyrol had enough with the panicking hands and the crazy pilot's jabbering. Tyrol grabbed a utensil knife and cut right through the bonds that held the pilot in place.

It was somewhat of a shock to everyone when Slipdog slipped out of the ship once free. He jumped out of the ship and foully landed on his feet. He buckled under and fell down on his back when a loud CRUNCH came out from his right ankle.

"FRAAAAAK!" he cried, grabbing his foot.

The other deckhand immediately rushed over and started to get him prompt to life station. They opened his jacket, loosened his boots and any other tight clothing, managed to stabilize his ankle using deck tools, and then carried him out from the deck. Never before had a crewmember had to carry a tired, panicky and squirmy pilot who had just broken his ankle.

Tyrol watched distantly as the deckhands hurriedly carried the screaming pilot, trying to comprehend what had just occurred then.

Then he took a long look at the destroyed Viper, trying to imagine what could have done this. Cylons, maybe, he thought.

Then he noticed something; something crawling on the hull of the Viper.

"Cally?" he called out.

"Yes sir?" she said, caught between wanting to help Slipdog and staying with the Chief.

"Get a container. And a reacher pin."

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"How long?" he asked.

"Three months tops, Commander," replied Cottle on the other end of the phone. "He hurt himself pretty bad, and it's a good thing the deckhands knew what they were doing. The man was pretty beaten up."

Adama nodded. "Alright, thank you again, Dr. Cottle." And he hung up.

Colonel Tigh returned, looking very miffed.

"Colonel," Adama acknowledged him.

"Commander," he said in a slight stiff manner.

Adama could notice it. "What's the matter, Saul? Did Kara say something to you?"

Tigh's jaw was tensed, but he seemed to let it go just then. "Yeah, uh, it was something she said, Commander."

Adama pat his friend on the shoulder. "Don't let it get to you."

Tigh sighed. "I'll try not to."

"Is she and Hotdog out there?"

"Last I saw of them, they were heading for the flight deck. They should be ready to go out."

And soon enough, they could hear Starbuck's voice.

"Galactica, this is Viper 357. All flight systems are on 'go', and I'm rollin' out."

"Copy that, Starbuck," replied Dualla. "Watch out for enemy fighters."

"Yeah, right." she didn't sound very chirpy.

"Galactica, Hotdog. This is Viper 1146; I'm on doing CAP with Starbuck."

"Copy that, Hotdog. Watch out for Starbuck.'

"Copy that, Galactica."

Two dots appeared on the DRADIS immediately. They were going ahead off the fleet as ordered.

Cheif Tyrol appeared on CIC, and he seemed to be holding a container in his hands. He looked quite perplexed

"Commander," he said, saluting while holding the container under the crook of his other arm..

"As you were," replied Adama. He glanced at the container for a moment, noticing something move in it. He ignored it for now. "How is the Viper?"

"Blown to hell, sir," Tyrol groaned. "It's gone out of commission."

"And how was Slipdog?"

"Other than the severe shock, he was alright," Tyrol said; "That is, before he broke his ankle."

"Now remind me how he broke his ankle…"

"He was panicked and he wanted out of the cockpit badly. When I finally got him out, he jumped out and came down on the deck wrongly."

Adama's mouth twisted. "Hmm."

"I'm sure it has happened before, sir."

"Oh, yes, I know," Adama replied; "back in my day, my wingmate did the same thing, once. But he wasn't under stress and he wasn't suffering shock; he was trying to impress his D.I.; a woman."

"That's, well, pardon me for saying—"

"Stupid, yeah," Adama cut in.

"I would have said foolish."

"That too. Everyone made 'Stupid' his callsign."

Tyrol changed the subject. "Sir, I uh, I happened to have found something on Slipdog's ship. Me and some of the crew had a look at it, and, thought you would like a look at it."

Adama motioned at the container. "You are talking about that, correct?"

Tyrol nodded.

Adama motioned to the counter under the DRADIS. Tyrol set the container on the counter, and showed him.

In it was a disfigured, hairy, nasty spider; about the size of a man's hand. Eight hairy legs protruded out from its pale blue body, supporting its hairy, bulbous sac. Two clusters of eyes stared straight out at everyone, and two miniature claws lashed out at the glass that contained it.

Several people in CIC gasped; some female officers started to get distant from the center of CIC.

Adama could not help but stare at it. It was unlike any bug he had seen before.

Tyrol could notice that Adama was curious. "Sir, I've sent Cally with a few DNA samples from it to deliver to Dr. Baltar, see if he could come up with anything."

Ooze trickled out from its body.

"Is that where you got the sample outta the poor bastard?" inquired Tigh, narrowing his eyes at the sight.

"We had a little trouble trying to stop it from moving, and we pinned managed to pin it down," Tyrol said. "But we also used it to get the DNA out of it."

Adama nodded. "Strange little thing… you found it on Slipdog's ship?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you only found one?"

"…yes sir."

Adama looked grim. "Just to be safe, have a team strip the Viper down and see if they can find any more of these."

"Aye, sir," nodded Tyrol.

"Wouldn't want to have one of those nasty suckers across my face in the night, ey?" asserted Tigh.

"More than that," said Adama; "we don't know if it's venomous or dangerous to us."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, sir, but aren't all spiders venomous and dangerous to humans?" inquired Tyrol.

"Yes, but we do not know if this spider is," said Adama. "And as far as I know, we do not have bugs on this ship."

"But how could it have gotten on board?" inquired Tyrol.

"I recall Slipdog saying that these enemy ships looked like spiders," said Adama. "Perhaps they released this bug."

"Can that be possible?"

"If we're dealing with aliens."

"Aliens?" gasped Tigh.

"We are in deep space, Colonel," said Adama. "You cannot have deep space journeys without deep space scavengers."

"Aye, sir…" groaned Tigh. He did not like insects.

"Shall I throw it out of the airlock?" asked Tyrol.

Adama took another long look at the thing. He noticed that the bug was glaring at him intently.

"It likes ya, Bill," grinned Tigh, teasingly.

Adama did not chuckle. "I'd throw it out."

Tyrol nodded, a little bit surprised. "Yes, sir…" and he took the container and walked off with it.

Tigh blinked. "Really? You're not going to keep it here for future analysis?"

Adama watched Tyrol walk again. The bug was still glaring at the Commander.

"I trust my instincts, Saul," said Adama. "Mine say get rid of it."

"What makes you think your instincts will help you?"

Adama looked at the Colonel. "You can laugh at me all you want after this… but… it glared at me."

Saul chuckled. "Like I said, it took a liking to ya, Commander."

Adama shrugged. "As unprofessional as it may sound, that thing looked at me funny. Like it was trying to read me… it didn't look right."

Tigh's mouth was twisted to the side, but he accepted the fact. "I understand, Commander."

Adama looked over his shoulder and noticed that some of the female officers were still bugged about the bug. They were whispering to each other.

Gods, I hope there are no more of those things. Just one of them put off everyone here. Imagine the whole ship...

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Gaius was at the computer doing work. He happened to be finishing paperwork, ready to leave and see the President, when the hatch door opened. It was one of the deckhand crew members; he didn't know her name. She happened to be a very cute girl; she had her hair in a pigtail, and had a few bangs that covered her overly adorable face.

"Dr. Baltar?" she said, as though requesting to enter.

Quite perplexed by her unexpected arrival, Gaius blinked a few times. "Oh, uh, yes? D-do come in!" he added the last bit quite unexpectedly.

Gaius and this girl did not know each other very much, and so it was not news to Gaius that the two would probably be distant from each other.

Why did he put this thought into consideration? She was a girl. A cute girl.

"Chief Tyrol asked me to give you this," she came over to Gaius at his desk and revealed a vial of some strange, gooey liquid in her hand.

"Oh, uh, thank you," he said confusedly. "Did your chief care to explain what this is?"

"It's an extract."

Gaius was still confused. "From what?"

"Well, didja hear the alarm? We were set at Condition Two for a little while, you know."

Gaius was a little busy during the attack. But, he both wanted to know what she was talking about, and to aside hide the truth that he had a friend in his head.

"Oh, oh, yes, yes, I remember."

"Okay, good."

"…what about it, then?"

"…okay. When Slipdog came in, Chief noticed something crawling on the hull of his ship: a big and nasty spider; REALLY nasty."

Gaius blinked.

"A spider?"

"Yeah, VERY nasty. It was very big, very pale, very gross, very hairy—"

"Yesyesyesyesyes, I get your point," Gaius interrupted. He didn't fancy insects much. "So, what's this big spider got to do with this ext— …oooooooh, oh, right, right, this is the spider's extract… so, it's a space insect?"

"Seems like…"

"Well, um, thank you."

Cally put on a smile; the kind where she really did not know how to make things less uncomfortable. "Anytime, Doctor…"

"You didn't keep the spider, perchance, did you?"

Cally scoffed. "Tyrol asked, and Adama allowed him to throw it out the airlock. Besides, I doubt keeping a spider is good luck."

"Oh," Gaius spoke, disappointed. He hated insects, but, he became overly curious over the concept of space insects. After all, all insects needed air. He really wanted to get a closer look. Even if it was an insect. "Well, I understand. Orders, right?"

Cally shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

Gaius nervously smiled. The girl was just standing there, as though waiting for him to say something, or for something to happen. She just stood there giving him a throw-away smile.

"Will that be all?" he finally asked.

She thought for a moment. "Yeah." She nodded. "Yeah… well, I hope you get good results, or whatever."

He nodded. "Thank you, um… um… I'm sorry, but, I don't know your name."

She didn't expect that; but it was apparent she felt flattered. "Uh, Cally. Specialist Cally Henderson."

"Oh, oh," he said, nodding communicably. "Very pretty name, if I may say so, for a very pretty girl."

She now began smiling nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I guess it's a nice name. Everyone calls me 'Specialist Lazy.' So, yeah…" and she bit her lip.

"Really?" Gaius asked. "Why do they call you that?"

She paused for a moment. Then she broke out into nervous laughter. "Um, I… I don't know, sir."

Gaius smiled kindly. "Well, at least you managed to get me this vial, you know. Teach those friends of yours to think otherwise for this, huh?" he winked.

Her smile brightened, and she laughed. "I hope so; they're lazier than I am, and I'm a girl!"

"Ah, is that right? I hardly noticed," he said, feigning surprise.

The deckhand was now getting more confident with him, and her smile was less and less nervous. It was obvious she began to like him in return. "What, do you have a problem with your eyes, Doc?"

He blinked as though trying to clear them. "It's the damn weather in here."

She laughed again. "Yeah, uh, see, we don't get weather in here, sir," she pointed out. "We get dust."

"Yes, well, the dust makes it feel like a bloody gas chamber in here…"

She nodded. "Kinda does."

He chuckled. "Reminds me… when I was in school, this friend of mine— his name was Riley Sterncap –used to drop stink pellets into the teacher's desk…"

Already he had caught her attention, she was laughing by the time he spoke about the teacher.

Gaius could not help but flatter himself by amusing this girl. "And, honestly, these are the worst—" he stopped, looking at the hatch, his smile fading fast. "Oh!"

Cally looked behind her, and there she was; President Roslin.

"Madame President," Cally spoke, standing straight and attentive.

The President smiled. "Hello. I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

Gaius could not help but feel guilty. Here he had been, all this time, chatting this bird up, and keeping the President waiting. Gaius was, after all, a part of the President's staff, and they needed to discuss important matters on government.

Gaius, rather embarrassed, began reprimanding himself. 'Oh no! No, no, I was merely just sharing a, well, terrible story with the Specialist here. She came by to drop off something, and, uh… I got a little carried away."

Laura flashed a smile. "Oh, well, I apologize, then."

Cally herself began to schold herself. "Oh, no, please, Madame President! It's my fault; I didn't think you both were going to meet and…"

Laura put a calm hand on Cally's shoulder. "It's alright, Specialist, it's alright. But I do need to occupy the punctual doctor's attention for important matters."

Cally nodded, returning to the attitude Gaius first saw her cover under. "Yeah, um… excuse me…" and she left the lab.

Gaius frowned a bit. He really liked her company.

Laura turned to Gaius. "Dr. Baltar."

Gaius nodded his head in greetings. "Madame President."

"Did you hear about the attack on one of our patrols?" she inquired.

Good lord, I almost forgot about that. Here I have been, chatting with this bird, and—

"Gaius, you are a total and obnoxious flirt," Six suddenly teased from behind him. Gaius suddenly felt quite nervous.

"Here you were, engaged in a very amusing conversation with a girl, and you forgot all about the importance of her visit," she quipped. He felt her hands grab his shoulders gently, almost like a massage, and could feel her warm breath against the back of his neck. "A deckhand girl, of all people…"

Gaius tried to ignore Six. "Yes, um, Madame President; I have."

Laura could notice Gaius seemed disturbed, or distracted. But, as Gaius expected, she disregarded it.

"Do you know what happened?" she inquired, watching his reactions.

"Somewhat," Gaius said. "I wasn't privy to all details, if that's what you expected from me."

Laura nodded. "I see… well, it appeared two colonial Vipers went into a asteroid belt just out of curiosity. Only one of them came out, and was chased by enemy fighters."

Gaius' eyes widened. "Is that so?"

He felt her teeth playfully nibble his earlobe. "But… you seem to like her, don't you?" Six asked, licking him where she bit him.

Gaius's eyes kept fluttering and dancing, trying to hide the utter pleasure he was coping with.

Laura thought this was a really weird man.

"Yes, it is so," she responded, quite firmly.

"Were they Cylons?"

Six gave Gaius a pat on the head. "Oo, Gaius, you are thinking awfully fast today…"

"No, they weren't, actually. The best our surviving pilot could describe with was that they looked like spiders. That is all the information we have right now. Commander Adama has ordered an investigation on the matter. But… I doubt he'll get his answers from an asteroid belt."

Gaius bent his head sideways, looking curious. "Why do you say that, Madame President?"

Six's hand now traversed over his chest. "She seemed interested in you. It would be funny finding out how old she was… by the time you bedded her…"

Gaius felt steamed up by that; it was incredibly unwanted, and so foul. He only liked the girl. He only thought of sex once, and that was before he started telling the story.

Laura paused a moment, looking down a moment and touching her brow lightly. "I can't say for sure. I just doubt he will, Dr. Baltar."

"How about…" Six purred. "You invite her and Thrace sometime? You could get double the truth… and double the fun."

Gaius couldn't take it anymore.

"Madame President!" he said, a little too roughly. He broke away from Six, who merely shrugged to herself.

Laura blinked in shock and seemed overly curious. "What is it!"

"Um…" Gaius started, moving for the hatch door; away from Six. "Let's take this into the conference room. It gets very stuffy in here, and, uh, it becomes very uncomfortable after a while. So, um, let's go, now, shall we?" he cast a nervous glare at Six. She was grinning at him.

Laura looked at the doctor very worriedly. She didn't quite like it when Gaius got so nervous all of a sudden, for no apparent reason. "Alright. I need to sit down, anyway."

"Well, there's the benefit of the conference room, then," Gaius said, laughing very uneasily. He motioned for the door.

Laura took one more look at him before stepping out of the lab. Gaius began to follow suit.

"Gaius," Six halted him. He turned to look at her.

"What?" he asked very quietly. The President was just out of the hall. "You want me to add Boomer to the list? Want to see Cylon/Human sex for your own eyes?" he was really aggravated at her.

"If you really care more about her than me, well, go right ahead then," she said, seeming very upset as well.

He blinked quiet incredulously. "Say what!"

Six rolled her eyes. "Go and talk with your President. Like any other woman, she wants your attention."

Gaius' lips pressed into a firm line.

Six pointed at the vial. "You might want to check that."

Gaius scowled. "I will." And he left.

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"Open 'er up, boys," Tyrol said.

"What for?"

"Flushing a spider down the drain," Tyrol said rather playfully; "well, out into space, actually."

"A what!"

"You heard me, Sergeant. Open the damn door, will ya?"

The sergeant shook his head. "Yes, sir."

Tyrol stepped into the incredibly stuffy airlock room. It was designed to flush systems in case of a fire, or to execute traitors and prisoners.

Tyrol remembered that one Cylon had been flushed out into space in this very room.

The container began to shake violently. Tyrol lifted the container to his face. The hideous spider still tried to break free.

He shook his head. "Hope you enjoy the ride."

The spider glared at him. Intently.

Tyrol couldn't help but feel like the bug knew what he just said. Like the bug could understand every word he spoke. He had the sudden feeling the bug was angry at him.

Shaking the thought of it out of himself, Tyrol placed the container down, and then vacated the room. The men shut the door tight.

"Alright, on my command," Tyrol said, holding up a finger.

"Ready, sir," said the sergeant over the key panel.

"Flush—" Tyrol began to say. That was, however, only for a moment.

Immediately, the spider shattered its prison with one smash of its claws. Immediatley, it jumped out and started scattering about the place.

"What the FRAK!" gasped the sergeant.

"That's a tough bug!" chuckled a private.

The bug scaled up the window through which everyone gazed through. It stopped just at about Tyrol's head level, and stared at him. Again.

Tyrol's eyes widened in awe. This insect was clearly communicating something to him. It was actually communicating! But, how was that possible?

"My gods… it likes you, Chief!" laughed the sergeant.

"Shut up," Tyrol said flatly.

BAM!

The bug began smacking the glass window.

"SHIT!" gasped the sergeant. All the privates instinctively backed away and ducked.

"Flush him!" gasped Tyrol.

The sergeant madly typed on the key panel as a twitch. Within a blink, the blast doors opened and the airlock was open.

The spider was violently pulled towards the open space. But it still clung to the window.

Tyrol could not believe this. This bug was intentionally trying to stay on board.

"What in the hell…!" muttered the sergeant. "It's clung good on the window!"

The spider now started crawling all over the window, as though it denied the forces of space from pulling it out there. It was very persistent, and incredibly unique.

But, what was its purpose, Tyrol thought.

It stopped in one spot. The exact spot it was when it first hit the window. It just stayed there, not moving.

Tyrol took a closer examination, out of curiosity. From underneath, the spider looked like an octopus. And, interestingly enough, on the bottom of the spider's body was what looked like a mouth, and it began to suck on the window.

Behind the mouth, it looked like darkness. Endless darkness…

BAM! BAM!

The spider was smacking the window again!

"Holy shit!" the sergeant gasped, backing away from the key panel.

"Gods, it's tough!" exclaimed a private.

Tyrol started backing away. He did not like this situation.

BAM! BAM!

It hit again and again. The window was starting to crack.

"Sergeant… close the airlock," Tyrol calmly ordered.

The sergeant cast a glance at him. "What!"

Tyrol glared back at him, looking firm and hard. "I SAID close the damn airlock!"

The sergeant was hesitant. "Aye aye, sir…" he did as told. The airlock closed.

The spider stopped.

Silence. Dead silence.

Everyone waited. Everyone began slowly backing away—

CRASH!

The spider broke right through the window!

"HOLY GODS!" cried the sergeant, slamming himself against the wall. The privates hurriedly pulled out their pistols and aimed at it.

Suddenly, Tyrol found himself backing away. First thing he saw was the spider glaring at him. And then he saw nothing. He could feel the spider on his face!

"DON'T SHOOT!" he ordered. The spider was glued to his face, holding him hostage.

The privates nervously pointed their weapons down, but still had them cocked.

The bulbous sac was bouncing against Tyrol's chin and its legs, like claws, dug into his face. The sheer, searing pain he endured was enough to make his scream. But, if he did, he feared that mouth would do something to his face.

Tyrol could also feel its teeth and its miniature claws scratching across his scalp. He could feel the slime ooze down the side of his face; he felt feel the slimey, hairy mass of the insect.

What was it going to do?

Tyrol had to stand there. That was all he could do.

The sergeant approached the privates, watching the spider. They were watching too.

Suddenly, Tyrol could feel a slight pain develop on his forehead. It almost felt like a headache… but it felt more like something was drilling into his head!

The three men could hear Tyrol's muffled screams.

The sergeant whispered something to the two privates, and then two quickly rushed to cover Tyrol on both sides. Now they could shoot it; its bulbous was a definite clear shot.

The pain was still there; but what was happening?

"one…" whispered the sergeant, holding up a finger.

The spider's legs tensed. It was going to make a run.

"Two…"

Before he said three, the spider released Tyrol and flew up into he air. The privates attempted to shoot it down, but were halted when the spider released, in mid-air, streamlines straight at their eyes from it sac, blinding them in its web shots.

Both men were trying to scratch the webby substance off their faces.

The sergeant had his gun out and attempted to shoot the spider. The spider, however, had gotten to a vent duct, broke open its gating, and then disappeared within.

Two words came out from the sergeant's mouth a few seconds later. "Frak me."