The sudden silence gave Starbuck the suspicion that more than just a couple of them understood Colonial Standard. Indeed, they were all looking at him as though he was completely out of his mind.
"What?" Starbuck asked.
"Can we?" Dorado asked Dayton. Actually, it wasn't a bad idea. The blade was certainly sharp enough to reach the Obediator, unlike the stones they had been working with that seemed to chip whenever they tried to hone a fine point for weapon potential. And the Obediator was the only thing stopping them from leaving the tunnels. Without it, the path would be virtually clear. And then . . .
"Perhaps on Starbuck. It was inserted only six hours ago." It shouldn't have fully adhered to his tissues yet, and providing it was near the entry site, it could possibly be retrieved. But he'd have to talk Ryan into it. At least he had pre-med and was raised on a farm. "There's a good chance it would become infected afterward. You realize that, don't you?"
Starbuck nodded. All the immunizations in the universe wouldn't be able to save him from a dirty blade. "It would take twenty-four centars for any symptoms to show up. I plan on being out of here by then."
"And if you aren't?" Dayton asked.
"Then at least I tried." Starbuck shrugged. He'd rather be dead than harvesting koivee for the rest of his life.
"Fair enough. Just so you know what you're getting yourself into." The NASA Commander nodded at him with new respect in his eyes. "What would you do then? Tell me more of this plan." Dayton asked, sitting on the cot opposite.
"I passed the control center on the way in. There was only one attendant at the time." Starbuck looked at the others seeing a couple nods in his direction. Others were plainly struggling to follow along. "So that's normal?"
"Yes." Dayton replied. "The Obediator has effectively kept us contained since its inception. They pulled the guards long ago. Are you sure you could find it? And are you certain you could overcome the attendant?"
"I think I could find it." Starbuck nodded, glossing over the other. That obviously depended on the attendant. "I'm more concerned about disabling the cyclatron for the Obediators so I can spring the rest of you. The way my luck has gone lately, I might just kill the life support by mistake."
"Are you kidding?" Dorado asked him in surprise.
"Have you seen the control center? It makes the Galactica look like someone just cracked a bottle of ambrosa on her hull, and she left the space dock shiny and new last secton. I don't know where that technology came from, but I didn't recognize most of it."
"Much of the technology is archaic. Most of it has been replaced with makeshift parts, many of them scavenged from passing ships . . . like the Endeavour." Dayton had been in the control room on occasion. He had even been forced to help repair a couple of their systems, while one of his crew writhed in agony on the ground in front of him to encourage his full cooperation.
"We have basic weapons in a cache. Made of stone, you understand." Ryan told him. "If you can get by the technology and destroy the cyclatron, we will be ready to back you up."
Starbuck nodded. "I was hoping you'd say that. I want to deactivate the Dynamos as well, if that's possible. If I could get a ship and rendezvous with the Galactica, we could all get out of here. I don't want to run into anymore of those things on my way out of here."
"Ah, that's what you're thinking. Well, at least we know your Viper will still be there." Dorado mentioned.
"How do you know that?" Dayton asked.
"He sabotaged her. Unless they've learned their way around a Viper better than I think they have, it'll take them a while to figure it out." Dorado grinned.
"You were planning ahead. I'm impressed."
"Well, sometimes a plan just comes together." Starbuck smiled. He hadn't been planning ahead at all, he just didn't want the vermin in his fighter. "As for the Dynamos and cyclatron, do you know how to destroy or at least deactivate them, Dayton?"
Dayton simply nodded.
"Then you could tell me what to do."
"I'm not sure that I could."
"Why not?"
"I've only been there a handful of times myself. I would know what do to, but I'm not sure I could instruct you . . ."
"I can't disable the cyclatron unless you tell me how." Starbuck pointed out, hoping to encourage him in that direction.
"You could if you took me with you." Dayton replied.
"How in Hades could I do that?"
-----------
"Two full squadrons, Silver Spar and Blue. One initiates the decoys by triggering the successive activation of a couple spheroids roughly here and here." Tigh pointed to the navigation board that the captains and lieutenant were gathered around. The specified coordinates would lead any marauders far away from the base. "The other infiltrates the base."
"How are we going to trigger the spheroids without disabling our ships?" Apollo asked.
"Dr. Wilker has been working on a remote unit for use in external repairs to eliminate the risk of losing our warriors on spacewalks." The Colonel could see Sheba nodding her approval, and knew she was thinking about how they had almost lost Apollo and Starbuck when they were setting charges to snuff the fires in the Galactica's landing bay. "He hasn't quite perfected fine motor action yet, but it will be just the thing to send close enough to trigger the energy blast." Tigh replied.
"Somehow, I don't think the Doctor will appreciate our use of his new toy." Apollo suggested, an edge of humour to his voice.
"We do as we must." Adama returned, a hint of a smile on his features.
"We'd also need a shuttle to bring back the survivors." Apollo suggested. If any he added silently.
"And a med tech." Bojay added.
"You'll have both." Adama nodded. "A shuttle with a Viper escort will rendezvous with the task force after the base is secured. After Silver Spar sets the bait, they will converge on the asteroid base and prevent reinforcements from returning to assist."
"What do we know about the base?" Apollo asked.
"The asteroid itself has no atmosphere, but Sheba's scan picked up a manmade environment which penetrates far into the asteroid." Tigh pointed to the data as it came on screen. "The energy readings are high enough to indicate a large settlement extending into a subterranean system of tunnels, which geotechnical scans have determined to be a mine."
"Tylium?" Bojay asked.
"Similar, but much higher in carbon content." Tigh answered.
"More stable in its raw form?" Apollo asked.
"We can hope." Bojay inserted, knowing how explosive raw tylium was when hit by an extraneous energy source. That, and under the incredible pressures deep inside a planetary body above a certain size, tylium acted in dangerous and sometimes unpredictable ways. He'd heard the stories, and seen the vids, of Carillon exploding. "It'll be a challenge to sustain an attack without lasers once you're in there."
"Speaking of, I want weapons set on stun when you hit the base. As yet, these people have utilized a weapon that simply disables ships and doesn't harm the pilot."
"Commander, Szabo . . . " Sheba inserted.
"I haven't forgotten the Ensign, Lieutenant. The technicians are still trying to reconstruct something from what's left of his ship's flight recorder. So keep in mind, we don't know any of the details surrounding that incident. I don't need to remind you that these people are Human." He frowned, aware he had done just that. "Therefore, somewhere in that settlement there are likely women and children. This mission's primary focus is to penetrate the base and find out what happened to the Pegasus. We don't routinely fly one man patrols, so there could be Colonial Warriors being detained on that base, and, I pray that Starbuck will be among them."
"Commander Adama," Bojay chewed his lip. "Sir, Vipers don't have a stun setting."
"I am aware of that, Captain." Adama nodded, with just the hint of a smile. "Your team will activate the decoys and then rendezvous at the asteroid base. I expect you realize I want to occupy their forces, not destroy them. As a result, this will be time sensitive. Quick in and out."
"They may not take the bait if they're aware we scanned them." Apollo noted.
"They went after your ships readily enough, and Bojay's patrol saw no sign of them when they brought back Ensign Szabo's. I believe the spheroids are essentially their alarm system, if not activated, they are blind to our presence. We've seen no evidence of any other sentinels. I'm willing to bet they're greedy enough to take another chance."
Apollo smiled. "You sounded like Starbuck there, for a micron."
"I'm always willing to bet on Human nature, Apollo." Adama replied. "And I'm well versed on both its good points and its bad."
----------
The word had come down from the bridge. Starbuck was still out there somewhere, and Boomer had every intention of joining the strike force that was going to find him. He just had one thing to get out of the way first.
He opened the heavy steel door to the interrogation room, looking conspicuously over his shoulder before stepping inside. It clanged shut, and he heard the lock snap back into place. He looked directly at the prisoner. Borka sat on the single bench that lined the far wall. His eyes narrowed as he looked the lieutenant up and down, his eyes finally resting on the blaster that Boomer's right hand had settled on.
"What do you want?" Borka spat out. A fine sheen of sweat covered his face, and trickled down his temples.
"Answers." Boomer replied, leaning back against the door.
"I don't know anything." His body tensed.
"Be that as it may, you are going to tell me where Ensign Luana is, and what you did with Oriana's body." He was putting all his cubits on Ama, hoping to God she was right about what she had told Lia. The necromancer had sensed that Oriana was no longer with them.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Borka claimed, but his jaw tightened visibly.
"Kaden said it was an accident, but that you killed Oriana. He also said he doesn't know where Luana is. Seems to me, either you work alone, or your partner is setting you up to take all the blame. Frankly, buster, I'm betting on the second."
"This is felgercarb." Borka's eyes flicked to the door, then back to Boomer. "Where are the Blackshirts?"
"One of them took Kaden to the Chief Opposer's office to make an official statement. The other is in the turbo flush. He looked a bit bunged up to me, so I think he'll be a while. I told him I'd keep an eye on you." Boomer glowered at the man.
"What's this to you?" Borka asked, his voice a bit hesitant. He was fairly certain that the warrior wouldn't shoot him, but still, the man was built like a brick mong house. And he still remembered the damage the nearly naked and somewhat lighter Lieutenant Starbuck had done to both he and Kaden on the triad court. He was reluctant to mess with this one.
"Ensign Luana is a personal friend of mine." Boomer took a couple steps closer, his eyes narrowing as Borka jumped to his feet reflexively. "If you don't tell me where she is and what you did with Oriana, you won't make it to tribunal. I promise you that." Boomer lowered his voice to an almost sepulchral whisper. "You don't mess with Colonial Warriors. We take care of our own."
"You can't lay a hand on me! It would mean the end of your career."
"Me?" Boomer asked, wide-eyed pointing to his chest. "I wouldn't think of it." He banged on the door twice sharply, standing to the side.
The door swung inward to reveal four large, black, hairy . . . simians. Or, on Borka's further reflection, four men dressed in simian suits. "What the frack is going on?"
The largest man only grunted as he advanced.
"You won't get away with this!" Borka screamed. "I'll have all your insignias for this!"
"Insignias?" Boomer asked with a derisive laugh. "What would you tell them?"
"That you guys . . . dressed up as simians and beat the mong out of me!" Borka responded, backing into the furthest corner.
"Do you honestly believe that a tribunal would believe that Colonial Warriors would debase themselves that way?" Boomer chuckled. "I'm surprised you'd humiliate yourself to that extent. No. On second thought, maybe I'm not."
"They'll know you had something to do with it! You were left in charge! The. . .the security monitors . . ." Borka argued desperately, trying to disappear into the wall as they approached him as a phalanx.
"Funny, they seem to have malfunctioned," said Boomer, looking up at the ceiling lights. "We've called technical, but hey," he looked back at Borka, "you know how short spare parts can be in the Fleet."
"You won't get away with this!"
"If I need to take a bump on the head for an alibi, it'll be worth it." Boomer's face then grew deadly serious as he looked to the others. "I want him damaged enough to regret this for the rest of his life . . . don't kill him." He turned sharply on his heel and left the room, slamming it shut on the screaming behind him.