With the Weapons of a Woman
by Soledad
For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the Introduction.
Author's notes: The clearing the way through the Nova of Madigan differs from the version shown in the pilot episode. I chose to follow the novelization. Also, the origin of the Cylons has my own twist, so it shouldn't be considered canonical.
Chapter 10 – Carillon
"Nova starfield ahead," Colonel Tigh announced, turning towards the huge front window.
Serina followed his look and saw a curved red veil, shaped like the blade of an antique scimitar from Aries, with a particularly bright star as the pommel stone, lying across the blackness of space. It was a beautiful sight – and a terrible one.
"Radiation shield positive," Commander Adama ordered.
Altair, the curly-headed bridge officer at Tactical, threw some switches, and the heavy, impenetrable thyllium shields lowered before the windows.
"Continue scanning the nova field," Adama added. "You have a go, Blue One through Three."
"Understood, Core Command," Apollo's crisp voice answered, and then there was silence for a couple of centons.
In the meantime, Lieutenant Omega signalled the Colonel to come over to his station, in order to show him something on his monitor. Tigh nodded and touched his headset that had been hotwired into the comm system.
"Listen to me, Blue One through Three," he said. "There are three types of mines in that field: the normal, explosive type that can blast to smithereens any ship that comes into contact with it…"
"… plus any other craft within a kilometron's radius," Apollo finished for him. "Yes, Colonel, we know those from previous missions. What other sorts have the scanners detected?"
"The second kind seems more instrument than weapon," Tigh explained, checking the monitor again. "Neither of us has ever seen any mine like this… if it is, indeed, a mine. It has electronic equipment all over it. The technology clearly reads as Cylon, but we can't really tell what it is. However, it's the third type that causes me the most headaches. Rather than exploding, it seems to send off flashes of light, the intensity of which is so concentrated that they would blind anyone unlucky enough to set it off. Like that stray micro-meteorite just a few microns ago."
"Which means, our pilots will have to fly the mission with their cockpits darkened," the Commander added.
"What?" Starbuck cried out in dismay. "Does it mean we'll have to fly blind against all the mines, relying on our scanners to locate targets? Colonel, you can't be serious!"
"Why, Starbuck, I thought you liked this kind of seat-of-the-pants flying," Apollo teased him.
"Yeah, in combat," Starbuck returned. "Not in a suicidal mine-detecting mission!"
"Don't wet your pressure suit just yet," Apollo laughed. "Let me make that first sweep, and then – Sagan!"
"Apollo!" Starbuck yelled. "What's wrong?"
There was agonizing wait for an answer. Then, finally, the shaky voice of Apollo came over the comm system.
"I found out what the mysterious mines are. They're not mines at all; they're electronic jammers. As soon as I got near that one, everything in my Viper started going haywire – including the controls. I was able to wrestle back command of the controls and jerk my Viper out of its range, otherwise I think I'd have been sucked in and then, I don't know, probably then it explodes. Come in carefully, you guys!"
"Skin temperature readout is one-zero-zero and rising," Starbuck reported, his voice tense.
For a while, all three pilots were silent, and everyone watched the triangular formation's careful approach to the nova field anxiously. Apollo went first, Starbuck after him, and Boomer directly behind.
"Hey, Boom-Boom," Starbuck said, "don't slipstream me."
"Shows how much you know," the Leonid muttered. "There's no slipstream capability in spacecraft which…"
"I know, I know," Starbuck replied good-naturedly. "We've got to stop you memorizing all those technical manuals in your bunk. I was using a figure of speech and you give me Academy lecture. I mean, get out on your own."
"Where to?" Boomer asked sarcastically. "I'm blind like a chiropteran here, Bucko!"
In that very micron, on Omega's scanner monitor one of the light mines was activated near the symbol of Apollo's Viper.
"Captain, are you all right?" Colonel Tigh asked in barely veiled concern.
"I'm fine," Apollo replied. "Thanks the Lords of Kobol for the darkened cockpits, though, or else I'd be blind now. In fact, I feel like I'm blind as it is. My scanner's doing an erratic dance. I can't see anything… and it's getting hot, very hot in here. I think I'm veering off. Anyone can pick up the field on their scanners?"
"Negative," Starbuck said. "My scanner's burning up."
"Mine's gone," Boomer added darkly.
"I was afraid of that," Apollo said. "The jamming is playing havoc with our instruments.
"So what are we doing now?" Starbuck asked sarcastically. "Get out of our Vipers and take a look with our naked eyes?"
"Core system transferring control to Galactica," Flight Corporal Rigel's calm, even voice interrupted them. Serina was amazed how completely unfazed she sounded in the middle of the chaos. "We will guide you through, using onboard scanners."
"What if we miss a mine?" Boomer asked, only half-joking.
"One of us will be the first to know it," Apollo replied dryly. "You with me, friends?"
"I'm with you," Boomer said, with a barely audible sigh in his voice.
"I'm with you, too," Starbuck added, sounding almost excited.
"Great," Apollo said. "Let's go."
Everybody watched the monitor at the top of Omega's console silently as the three Vipers angled through the minefield, which was now brightly lit by two activated light-mines.
"We'll talk you through," Rigel said encouragingly. "Countdown to fire: five-four-three… three degrees right…"
Apollo fired his lasers.
"Target destroyed," Rigel told him. "One target coming up…"
Altair at Tactical was talking Starbuck through the movements, while a third bridge officer, whose name Serina didn't know, was doing the same with Boomer. The three pilots were firing everything they had – with stunning accuracy, considering that they were doing it blindly. Mine after mine exploded and disappeared.
"It's burning up!" Starbuck exclaimed after a painful yelp.
"Just keep firing," Apollo replied through gritted teeth.
"Check on their vitals," Colonel Tigh ordered Omega. "Use their core systems. Start with Boomer – he's suspiciously quiet."
"Heartbeat readout one-zero-zero, all other functions normal," Omega reported after a short check.
Tigh nodded; then he turned to Adama. "I don't know what to say, Commander, but it seems to be working. They're clearing a path a hundred maxims wide."
Athena turned away from her post and grinned at her father. "Now, that'sprecision flying," she declared, and everybody on the bridge grinned, recognizing the Commander's favourite comment during Viper drills.
"I can't see a blasted thing!" Starbuck's voice came through the comm system. "Are we hitting anything at all?"
"Be hanged if I know," Apollo replied.
"Countdown to fire," Rigel interrupted them. "Three-two-one. Target destroyed. New target coming up…"
"Captain Apollo, heartbeat readout nine-nine," Omega reported. "Skin temperature one hundred and twenty… and still rising."
"It's getting hot," Starbuck was stating the glaringly obvious.
No-one answered him. All three pilots kept firing, their helpers on board the Galactica directing them.
"Captain Apollo, heartbeat readout nine-nine," Omega said, and Serina was stunned by the calmness of his voice; nothing seemed to bring the Flag Lieutenant off-balance. "Skin temperature one-thirty-five, slowly levelling off."
"Yeah, it is cooling off," Apollo commented over the continued whining of the lasers, and Serina felt weak-kneed with relief. Could it be that they'd actually made it?
"Let's take a look where we are," the Commander glanced at Tigh.
"Negative shield, now!" the Colonel ordered.
Altair threw his switches again. The massive shields retracted, providing them with direct sight at a sector of space, filled with the still glowing gaseous remains of the destroyed mines… and in the middle of it, like a marble in the folds of a piece of red gauze, hung a planet.
"That is it," Commander Adama said in deep satisfaction. "Carillon."
"I believe we've made it," Apollo declared in audible relief.
"Yahoo!" screamed Boomer, nearly deafening them all.
Cheering broke out all over the bridge. People jumped from their seats, slapping each other's backs, laughing and crying at the same time. Athena pumped her fist in the air triumphantly.
"Yes!" she shouted. "We did it!"
Commander Adama and Colonel Tigh clasped forearms in the ancient warrior fashion, both smiling in pure joy. Then the Commander looked at Rigel.
"Recall the flight crew, Corporal," he ordered.
Serina wanted to jump to her feet, to shout in joy and relief as the others had done… but she found she could not. Half-rising from her chair, she had to collapse back into it. She'd never felt so weak and overwhelmed in her entire life.
As soon as the heroes of the day returned to the Galactica, Commander Adama ordered landing operations to begin immediately. The mineral scanners managed to locate the approximate site of the old mining expedition; the Mineral Ships and the landram parties were preparing to land.
Serina had been surprised when Apollo invited her and Boxey along to participate in the search of the fabled lost Tylium mines of Carillon. She'd never travelled in a landram before and was fascinated by the stocky vehicle that had been built to master just about every possible environment, carrying both people and cargo in impressive quantities.
Apollo operated the controls himself, driving both the large cargo shuttle and the landram, seeming supremely comfortable with the feel of them as they rode the air currents with barely noticeable shifts to right and left, up and down. He even offered to teach her how to drive a landram… which she thankfully refused. In the back seat Boxey played quietly with Muffit Two, the droid making funny, wheezing and surring noises as its servos moved its ears and maw.
Serina used the moment of quiet to address a topic she'd wanted to breach to him since the council meeting.
"I'd like to ask you something, Apollo, and I want you to be honest to me," she began. "Why in Hades have you volunteered for this mission? There are a lot of skilled pilots aboard the Galactica, but only one Strike Captain. Are you trying to prove something, or did it have anything to do with your brother?"
Apollo gave her an irritated look. His good mood seemed to evaporate within microns.
"Are you telling me that I'm being reckless to make up for leaving Zac behind?" he asked.
"Or trying to prove your worthiness to his ghost," she replied quietly. "That you've deserved to survive while you couldn't save him."
Again, that irritated look. "How did you find out about Zac and me?"
She shrugged. "Asked around. Female shuttle pilots love to gossip."
His look darkened from being irritated to downright angry. "I don't appreciate that."
She shrugged again. "Sorry. I was a newswoman on Caprica, remember? A prominent one at that. I can't get out of the habit."
He opened his mouth to say something that probably wouldn't have been very friendly, but one of the survey pilots cut in over the comm system.
"Vector six-three-zero-thirty-eight to Ground Expedition Two. My scanners read life forms beyond these co-ordinates. Either it's some high-energy yielding substance or they left some kind of caretaker expedition behind when they abandoned this place."
"We've got it, zero-thirty-eight," Lieutenant Boomer's deep, pleasant voice answered. "Thanks a lot."
"I wonder what this place looks like in the daytime," another voice, higher and with a sarcastic undertone, commented. Serina recognized it as Lieutenant Starbuck's.
"Starbuck," Boomer replied with an audible sigh. "This is daytime."
There was a pregnant pause in the aether, and then Starbuck said languidly. "Lovely."
Apollo shook his head in fond exasperation and cut in. "Landram One to Skywalk zero-thirty-eight, can you assist in locating Tylium mine?"
"You got it, Captain," the pilot from before replied. "My scanner indicates that you'll intersect the mine area in twenty-four millicentons."
"Affirmative, zero-thirty-eight," Apollo said and pulled a face. "Trust Killian to use the old metric system that hasn't been in use for decades!"
"Everyone, synch chronometers," another voice, one that Serina couldn't at the moment recognize, interrupted. "Captain would like a check on in every ten centons. On an emergency frequency. Understood?"
"Affirmative, Jolly," Starbuck's voice answered.
"You're in time-synch… now," the fat pilot said. "Zero-thirty-eight returning to base. See you guys in a while. Good luck."
"Thanks, Jolly," Apollo said; then he smiled at Boxey. "Well, Boxey, time for your part of the mission. What I want you to do are to keep your eye on that readout. If the indicator gets into this coloured area, it means we're right on top of a rich Tylium deposit."
"Yes, sir," the job assignment seemed to perk up the boy's spirits. He climbed onto the front seat, between Apollo and Serina, and planted himself firmly in front of the readout screen.
Serina laughed. "Are you sure you don't mind working with such a green crew?" she asked teasingly.
Apollo smiled back at her. "I chose you, didn't I?"
"I d think, with your connections, you'd do better," she continued lightly. His face darkened at that, and she hurriedly back-pedalled. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to touch any sore spots. You're still upset your father resigned the presidency, aren't you?"
"Stop being a newswoman and let's concentrate on the mission," Apollo replied with a forced smile. "We've got to get a lot done in a short time. We can't afford to stay on any one planet for too long."
"Why?" Boxey looked up from the readout with anxious brown eyes of the size of saucers. "Why'd we have to leave home at all? Why do these people want to hurt us? What did we do to them?"
"It's not what we did to them," Apollo explained, revealing unexpected insight into their arch enemy's alien mindset. "It's what they fear we could do. You see, they're not like us. They're machines created by living creatures a long, long time ago."
Boxey looked at him with a frown that looked somewhat comical on his small face. "If they're machines, why don't we just turn them off?" he asked in the manner of a child who'd figured it all out and was exasperated by the slow-mindedness of the grown-ups
Apollo laughed softly. "Boy, I wish we could. But these machines aren't all that simple. You see, some machines are smart so that they can function better than a lot of living creatures."
"They're not smart," Boxes protested, apparently basing his opinion on his experiences with Muffit Two, who wasn't the smartest droid indeed.
"In some ways they are," Apollo corrected. "They're programmed to think a lot faster than we do… even though you wouldn't always believe it when you see them in action. On the other hand, they're not as individual. We can do a little more of the unexpected. It's about the only advantage we have."
"Why did we make them?" Boxey asked.
"We didn't," Apollo replied with a sigh. "Another race did, a race of reptiles called Cylons. They had this urge most reptiles do – to be the strongest and most powerful in this quadrant of our galaxy. But while they were fast and smart, their bodies were not best suited for spaceflight; they were cold-blooded creatures that would go into hibernation if the temperature in their spacecraft fell. So they copied our bodies, but they built them bigger and stronger than we are. And they can exchange parts, or move their brains into entirely new bodies, so they can live forever."
"Maybe the Cylons who created these machines could just turn them off," Boxey suggested, in a tone that clearly showed how much these grown-ups needed his help to get the simplest things done.
Apollo shook his head. "There are no more real Cylons. They start replacing body parts of each newly-hatched Cylon with electric and mechanical parts as soon as they leave the hatching chambers. When they're fully grown, they become the killing machines as we know them. We still call them Cylons, though. "
Boxey looked from him at the daggit-droid, then back at him again. Apparently, an unpleasant thought had just occurred to him.
"Will that happen to us too?" he asked anxiously. "Will our drones and machines take over?"
Apollo shook his head again. "We are very careful not to make our drones quite that intelligent or individual – present company excluded, Muffit," he added, smiling.
The droid made a tinny, mechanical noise. Apollo smiled and winked at Boxey.
"As a matter of fact we'd better have this drone checked," he stated with mock-seriousness. "I think he's been listening awfully closely."
He was rewarded with a delightful laugh, from both the child and his mother.
Apollo smiled at Serina and touched his headset to run a check on the other branches of the survey team. Everything checked out all right, until Ensign Greenbean got on the line and reported a disturbance.
"What is it, Greenbean?" Apollo asked.
"It's Jolly, sir," the ensign replied worriedly. "We seem to have lost him."
"How could you lose anybody of his size?" Apollo beat Serina with the question by a millimicron or so.
"Beats me, sir," Greenbean admitted, "but he is lost."
"Send out a search party and report back to me," Apollo ordered. Greenbean acknowledged and broke the connection.
"The man probably just wandered off," Serina offered uncertainly, seeing Apollo's concern, but Apollo shook his head in denial.
"No pilot serving under me would dare to just wonder off; especially not Jolly. He's an extremely reliable man. Now, if it were Starbuck we're talking about, I'd…"
He couldn't finish the sentence because the Tylium detector started beeping. The beeping caused the daggit-droid to bark in that high-pitched, electric tone that could cause an instant headache.
"Quiet, Muffit!" Boxey ordered it, and, surprisingly enough, the thing did shut up. "Captain, I se it… Tylium!"
"Good going, Boxey," Apollo praised him. The boy beamed with pride.
"That's a pretty hot reading, Skipper," said a voice that Serina thought to be that of the fat pilot, Jolly. "We might be right on top of that old mine. I'd better check that out."
"Keep your eyes open, Jolly," Apollo said. "And by Hades, where have you been? Greenbean's about to send out search parties to find you."
"Some of these rocks seem to contain some kind of mineral that blocks both scanners and radio waves," Jolly answered. "I'll report back as soon as I've found out more."
"Just be careful," Apollo warned.
"Will do, Skipper," and with that, Jolly signed off.
Apollo slowed the landram and checked the indicator himself, just to be safe. But Boxey had been right; it seemed to display a Tylium deposit indeed – and a rather large one at that. He brought the vehicle to a slow stop and was about to collect the necessary equipment when Muffit leapt out of the window.
"Muffy!" Boxey cried out in dismay. "Wait," he told the two grown-up. "I'll bring him back."
Before either of them could have stopped him, the boy had followed the daggit-droid out of the landram's window.
"Boxey, hold it here!" Apollo shouted after him. "I am going to get him back."
But the boy was already out of earshot, although his angry calls could still be heard as he tried to lure his pet back. Apollo looked at Serina in concern.
"Should I go after him?" he asked.
Serina smiled at him. "For the moment he's in plain sight. Let him run free a little. I can't keep him on too tight a lash all the time. Thank you, by the way."
"What for?" Apollo looked at her with a gentleness she'd only seen in his eyes before when looking at the child.
"For saving his life," she said. "If you hadn't gotten that droid for him…"
"You're getting things a little out of proportion," Apollo interrupted gently. "Anyway, maybe I should than you for including me into his life."
Serina sighed. "You don't know anything about me; or about my real son… or about my husband and what happened to him… or how I've managed to get out of Caprica with Boxey…"
"When you're ready, you'll tell me," he interrupted her with infinite gentleness that almost made her feel ashamed. "In the meantime, nothing that's gone on before really counts for much. As far as the human race is concerned, we're all starting over."
He'd already been holding her hand and now squeezed gently. She leaned closer; they met halfway in a long, unhurried kiss.
But even the gentlest moment ends sooner or later, and when they broke the kiss, Apollo squinted out of the window on Serina's side with a frown.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Boxey," he replied distractedly. "He was here, just a micron ago."
"Maybe he's just run over that hill," Serina said, not really believing it herself.
"Perhaps," Apollo said doubtfully, "but we'd better give a look. "C'mon!"
They checked their immediate surroundings, but the only person they found was Jolly.
"Have you seen Boxey?" Serina asked him anxiously.
The fat pilot glared at her blankly. Sagan, but he was really slow witted! Everyone knew her and her 'son' by now, having spent a great deal of time with their captain. Well, everyone else, apparently. How could they allow a simpleton like this to fly a Viper?
"A small, six-yahren-old boy?" she added impatiently. "My son?"
The pilot shook his head. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I haven't seen a soul. But the Tylium deposit has been confirmed, Skipper," he looked at Apollo.
"Report back to the Galactica, and then help me find the boy," Apollo ordered, and the pilot nodded obediently.
Apollo asked Serina to wait for them at the landram, should the boy return on his own, and she obeyed, although every instinct in her screamed to run out there and look for her son. But she realized that the two men, being trained warriors, could do that a lot more efficiently if she wasn't slowing them down.
So she walked up and down alongside the landram, until she heard the footsteps of the returning men and spotted their torches. By then, she was so worried about Boxey that she threw all caution into the wind, running up to them and throwing herself into Apollo's arms unashamedly.
"Any sign of Boxey?" she demanded in anxiety.
"Afraid not," Apollo hugged her briefly. "But we're not giving up, I promise. I'll call a search troop. We will find him."
Serina shivered. "This planet is eerie… with this darkness and the two moons, it is… what was that, Apollo?"
Both men had just drawn their blasters and pointed them towards the immediate area behind the landram. Serina followed their looks… and screamed. Two nightmarish creatures with bulbous, glowing eyes were emerging from a hole in the ground – a hole that had not been there a micron ago. Their two-triggered weapons were aimed at the humans.
~TBC~