Almost twenty centons had passed since Starbuck had positioned his ship to wait for the vermin that had attacked them. With each passing moment he mused about the similarities between this incident and the last time he had experienced like marauders.
It had been yahrens since he had seen any scavenging activities, and those that had occurred on the outer edge of the Twelve Worlds certainly hadn't had the technological sophistication of the spheroid. The privateers that he had had the displeasure of meeting almost a deca-yahren before, when he was an ensign on the War Cruiser Polaris under Commander Ranen, had two agendas.
Their preference was to pick over the remains of fighters and even stricken communities after a large-scale battle, taking anything salvageable or valuable when the victims were too shell shocked to do anything about it. It was the coward's way. The easy way. It was also very profitable.
Occasionally, and always unexpectedly, they would attack a small patrol, often one returning from a mission, so they would be tired, damaged, or low on fuel, or trainees, who wouldn't have the skill to best them. Usually they would use a similar tact, using a blanketing asteroid field or some other buffer to hide their approach, hitting the fighters like a pack of hungry lupine and causing just enough damage to force them down. Then they would land, deal with any survivors as their mood dictated, and tow or fly the ships back to their base, depending on the condition. Ironically, Starbuck had heard that often ships were compacted and sold back to the Colonies for the scrap metal. Somehow he just knew that he was dealing with something similar here.
He almost sensed them before he saw them. About a third the size of a Viper, and eerily resembling a smaller and more streamlined version of a Cylon Raider, almost avian in shape, they penetrated the area where the spheroid had been, approaching simultaneously from four different directions. Each ship moved as a shadow, barely detectable to the naked eye in the virtually aphotic conditions.
Starbuck looked to his scanners. They appeared to be single-manned craft, but once again, the warbook failed him in ship identification. He switched screens, watching with disgust as the computer flickered back and forth between 'human' and 'unidentified' on the biosigns. The problems being that he was using passive scanners only for the moment, and that was he was only concentrating on one ship and one being.
They began covering the area, obviously moving in a routine grid pattern. Starbuck sat patiently as they moved outward, encompassing an increasingly larger perimeter. He smiled when the search became less organized and more frenzied as they continued to scour the zone.
He could just imagine their frustration; arriving at their trap to find it destroyed, and the prey missing. It had taken them almost forty centons to arrive, thus their base was either some distance away, or their velocity was a fraction of a Viper's. Actually, considering their compact size, that would make sense. The ships appeared to be built for maneuverability, not speed, again perfectly logical if one existed within an asteroid belt, and there certainly weren't any habitable planets close by, which would act as a likely base.
Now, if his luck held, he could follow them back to base and see just what he was up against. By now, they must be assuming that their quarry had somehow managed to slip their snare. He was also feeling reasonably confident that their scanners weren't as technologically advanced as his own. After all, he was still sitting there in his crater as cozy as a baby lupus in its den, while they were routing around each and every asteroid trying to find him.
Finally, the ships moved away from the site, then clustered together in a diamond shaped formation before heading off in the opposite direction from the Fleet. He waited a moment before powering up again, giving them a reasonable head start. They didn't appear to be scanning aft, but he was taking no chances. This is it, Bucko. Don't screw up, or the Commander will make sure you're stripped and moduled, providing you actually make it back to the Fleet. A brief thought of Luana popped unexpectedly into his mind, before he began shadowing the retreating ships, being careful to tuck in close to the passing asteroids and stay out of sight.
----------
It felt wrong. Here Luana was on a transport riding over to the Malocchio Freighter as though it was any other day off, and she was simply visiting friends or quasi-family. In reality, she was about to break into a stranger's workshop searching for some kind of evidence that would clear Starbuck's reputation on the triad court. Of course, it might make her feel a little better if she knew what she was looking for.
Meanwhile, the other passenger's eyes were glued to the IFB monitors as Siress Tinia and Sire Dracus of the Council of Twelve formally announced the intention to broaden bureaucratic representation to a local level concerned with responsibilities of a more civic nature.
Following the impending elections for the Council of Twelve, we will turn our attention to organizing 'electoral districts' based on the census of the fleet's population in preparation for civic elections.
"About time." Oriana remarked. "The Council of Twelve managed to nip Sire Regus' plans for Distinct Society Status in the bud, and still come off looking benevolent. This will mean mandatory elections for the Empyrean Quorum. That will be revolutionary."
"Maybe." Luana returned. "Personally, I wouldn't be surprised if our people simply elected the same old fools that have been leading them all along."
Oriana chuckled. "You're right, you know. I'll be curious to see if Ama runs again to keep an eye on Albus and Regus."
"I'm sure she will." Luana added, as she prepared to disembark. "It will be interesting to find out how many representatives will be elected, and thereby where the balance of power will lie."
"Yes." Oriana agreed as she led them off the shuttle.
In contrast to Luana's previous visit to the freighter, there was a steady movement of people through the corridors as they went about their daily routines. Still, it took little time to cross the ship and move up to epsilon deck, where Myrddin's workshop and quarters were. A simple sign on the door indicated it was 'closed'.
Oriana reached out and turned the knob, a triumphant smile crossing her features as the door pushed open. "Told you."
"It's still trespassing." Luana reminded her, even as she followed the woman inside.
The shop was chockablock with household gadgets and simple electronics that were either being repaired or refitted. The shelves ran ceiling to floor and the only other pieces of furniture were a workbench and a stool. Luana was certain there wasn't an empty square centimetron anywhere, though everything appeared impeccably organized. A rear door at the opposite end of the room likely led to Myrddin's quarters.
"Lords, where do we begin?" Luana asked morosely.
Oriana closed the door behind them. "The least accessible places. You check the desk, I'll check his quarters."
"I can't believe I'm doing this." Luana muttered, as she began rifling through drawers and cupboards, still not certain what she was looking for.
"It's for a good cause." Oriana returned, as she opened the door and entered the quarters.
"Yeah, your career advancement." Luana murmured, reminding herself it was also for Starbuck. She opened a lower drawer and began looking through, finding pages of schematics and text books illustrating various electronic mechanisms.
"Luana! Come here!" Oriana called from the other room.
Lu quickly joined her, entering the quarters which were Spartan in comparison to the workshop. Again, everything was tidy and in its proper place. A small bed, a desk, a chair and a computer. . . in front of which sat Oriana. "What is it?"
"Myrddin's records. Fausto is listed as one of his customers three sectars ago."
"Isn't that kind of . . . stupid?" Luana asked.
"Hey, it might have been when Fausto first contacted him. It's a small payment for a repair on a monitor. Totally on the level."
"Fausto had to come all the way to the Malocchio to get his monitor fixed?" Luana asked skeptically. "Not likely."
"Believe it or not, there aren't a lot of competitors in the business. I hear there's some guy over on the Sagittarius who fiddles with electronics as a hobby, but there's not a lot of people doing it on a small scale for a living right now." Oriana explained. "Besides, that could have been when Fausto approached him. Let's check out his personal account and see how he's fared since meeting Fausto."
Luana watched Oriana's fingers fly across the keyboard. She stopped briefly to look around the desk, eventually turning the keyboard upside down and finding a password taped to the bottom before resuming her research.
"Now, this is interesting. I have two deposits of a thousand cubits a secton apart of each other, coinciding with the beginning of the triad season. This was before Starbuck and Apollo had even played their first exhibition game."
"Can you trace the deposit?" Luana asked.
"No. Cash deposit. But I'll just cross reference the dates with his records and see what we come up with."
"Well?" Luana asked, leaning over Oriana's shoulder, but finding the constant stream of commands and screen changes confusing. It was like being in cadet training again.
"No explanation."
"I guess not." Luana snorted, looking around the small quarters. "What now?"
"I'm checking his personal communications."
"Lords . . . "
"Look under the bed."
"What?" Luana asked bemused.
"Look under the bed. Really." Oriana repeated, swinging around to watch. "Myrddin sent off a message this morning saying the package would be under the bed." Her eyes shone brightly with excitement.
Luana was on the floor and pulling a small box out in microns. She placed it upon the bed and opened it. "What is it?"
The small black box was about the size of Starbuck's fumarello igniter. The top of the unit housed a power button, and a small raised circle on one side dominated the rest. She handed it to Oriana.
"It's some kind of remote unit with a finger touch control." Oriana replied, holding it lightly in her hand. She activated it, walking slowly around the room.
A crash from the workshop drew their complete attention. Their eyes met in anticipation and they rushed into the other room to see a ball rolling across the floor . . and Borka and Kaden standing just inside the room.