Like a striking Black-Hooded Serpens, the pirates were on Starbuck in a flash, knocking him to the tarmac and pulling at his flight jacket and boots. He simply let them, knowing he had no chance in Hades of stopping them . . . and he'd only get thumped for his trouble. But then he saw it . . .
Looking like a perverted version of a domestic caulking gun, but with a sharp, pointed nodule on the end, and an encapsulated power drive system in between, one look at the Obediator had his mouth as dry as the Borellian deserts.
"What the frack . . .?" Starbuck murmured, changing tack and yanking his arm loose. He punched the closest marauder in the face and twisted back the other way, driving his heel into the chest of another.
"Hey!"
A forearm suddenly slammed against his throat from behind, pulling him backwards and upsetting his balance as he landed supine on the deck. A sharp kick to his ribs on his right, followed by another to his left, had him attempting to curl in a defensive ball, even as several men grabbed his limbs to restrain him further.
"Not quite as effected by the Dynamo as we first thought, eh?" Torg sneered, taking the Obediator in hand. He advanced on the warrior. "You might have wondered by now how we control our prisoners."
"Actually, I was hoping we could skip that whole subject," replied Starbuck, fighting to keep his last meal down, as he struggled to free himself.
"I don't like sass, buster! You'll pay for it!"
"I'm a bit short this secton. Ask me again on payday though."
Starbuck could feel his tunic being pulled up to reveal his abdomen. He jerked sharply to one side, again freeing a limb, but before he could even think about delivering another blow, someone stomped on his upper arm. He cried out in pain.
"Hold him still!"
His limbs were stretched out as though he was on an ancient rack designed for torture. His chest heaved as he tried to unseat the men, who were basically sitting on him, effectively immobilizing him. The cold, sharp point of the Obediator sat against his abdomen. Torg grinned malevolently at him and then pulled the trigger.
It was as if he had been sucker punched by a sledgehammer. His breath was abruptly expelled as the whomp! of the weapon resounded. Then, as he lay there in shock, wondering what in Hades had happened, his stomach was suddenly on fire.
The men released him, watching as the warrior curled into a tight ball, a hand over his bloody stomach as he writhed silently in pain. "Holy mother of God, what did you do, Torg? Put it in alive?" Bex asked him.
Torg nodded briefly. "Close enough to it. He'll be singing like a Yellow Warbler within the hour, Bex. Throw him in a hot house until I'm ready for him."
"Aye, sir."
----------
"Bojay, I have a spheroid on my scanner." Sheba informed the captain. "I'm well out of its range, if the information we've received is accurate."
"Relay the coordinates, Sheba. I don't want to destroy it. It would be like sending a signal flare announcing our arrival." Bojay ordered.
"I've got one too." Boomer added. "Relaying coordinates. Anybody see any sign of Starbuck, or a base?"
"Nothing so far." Bojay replied. "I get the feeling they know we're out here, but are lying low."
"Funny, I have the same feeling. Could be they have some kind of energy shield protecting their base, hiding their location." Sheba suggested. It was an instinct honed by yahrens under Cain.
"Sounds like something out of Star Voyagers." Boomer replied cynically, remembering the long running Science Fiction series that he knew and loved as a boy.
"I suppose it's possible. Just because we don't have the technology, doesn't mean others can't." Bojay replied.
"Lords, I wish we had more to go on." Boomer muttered, once again pouring over his scanners.
"So do I, Boomer. So do I." Bojay replied, as something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. "Just a centon, I think I've got something . . . "
----------
Apollo strode onto the Galactica's bridge. He had bypassed the Life Station, with a promise to report there as soon as he had an update. After all, the sooner he was cleared for duty, the sooner he could get back to matters at hand.
"Apollo, how are you feeling?" Adama gripped his son by the shoulders, his father's eye quickly assessing and declaring him safe and in one piece.
"Fine, father." Apollo nodded towards his sister. "Any word from the recon patrol?"
"They're still out of communication range, Captain." Tigh informed him.
"We're altering course, taking us further away from the edge of the asteroid belt than we had originally planned." Adama moved to the navigation board, outlining the route. "I don't want any of these marauders coming any closer to the Fleet than they already are."
"Bojay knows?" Apollo asked.
"Yes. We sent an encoded transmission just before they entered the asteroid belt. They'll have plenty of fuel to rendezvous later." Tigh added.
Apollo sighed. "Alright. I have to report to the Life Station. Let me know if . . ."
"Of course, Apollo." Adama assured him as the captain left the bridge.
----------
"What have you got?" Boomer asked, his pulse quickening at the tone of the captain's voice.
"Hold tight." Bojay told him, as he closed in on the conspicuous dark shadow on an otherwise barren, white hunk of rock. His hit his console, activating a composition scan. The readouts were glaringly familiar. "Frack," he said softly.
"What?" Sheba asked.
"I've found a wreck. She's Colonial. I think it's a Viper."
Silence ensued. It seemed to drag on forever, and then . . .
"Are you sure it's Starbuck?" Boomer asked, having a difficult time believing it could be true. There was something about Starbuck that made him seem larger than life . . . or at least he had always imagined it to be so . . .
"Boomer, what other Viper would be out here?" It was the simple but hard truth. Bojay knew it had to be said aloud.
"What's her condition, Bojay?" Sheba asked, needing to hear the details for it to be real.
"Looks like she exploded on impact. I'm reading organic material. Also a spheroid close by. He could have lost control at high speed if he was hit by its blast. " Bojay looked around briefly. It was as if something was missing from the quotient. He expelled a deep breath. "The ship is somewhat intact. I'll attach a line and we'll take what's left of her back to the Galactica." He shook his head. Somehow it all seemed too easy, too trivial. Yet it had taken out one of their best warriors. Sorry, we were too late, Bucko.
"What about the base? I just picked up a large energy reading on my scanner. I must be almost on top of it." Sheba told them. The familiar numbness settled over her emotions, protecting her from the loss she knew would hit her later. Especially when she told Apollo how she had failed to find his best friend in time to help . . .
"Our primary objective was to find Starbuck. We'll report to the Commander about the base." Bojay reminded her. "Now let's bring him home."
----------
Since returning from flying escort for the shuttle that had collected Captain Apollo and his Viper, Ensign Lia had felt restless. At first she had attributed it to Starbuck being missing. Usually, she had every confidence in the lieutenant's abilities, but the anxiety that hung over her like a dark cloud would not disperse, and she couldn't find her sister to discuss it with.
On a whim, she had ducked into the Galactica's small chapel, to offer a prayer for her friend's safe return. It had seemed so strange, so different from the Empyrean place of worship she had grown up with. It had almost made her feel uneasy, enclosed in the small rooms, instead of worshipping out in the open, with nothing but the stars between the deities and their worshippers.
That was when Ama came to mind.
If she closed her eyes, Lia could imagine Ama back on Empyrean, encircled by her followers, and gazing into the heavens as she offered their eternal devotion, and sought guidance in return. She took a couple deep breaths, and could actually smell the scent of blossoms on a warm breeze. She could hear Ama chanting in the tongue of the ancients, so familiar and so revered. She nodded, realizing that it wasn't the chapel that housed the human spirit, it was the body. And it mattered not where one communed with their God. It was then, that the same tranquility that Lia had felt during those services had filtered through her body for just a moment giving her clarity of thought through divine intervention.
She had to find Luana.