BSG: BUMP IN THE NIGHT

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Ever. Period. No copyright infringement is intended, just playin with the toons.

A/N: Coolness, I'm getting more love from this than I am (except for one person, and you know who you are, awesome one) on my other story. Unfortunately, I promised to finish that one first. That said, reviews and likes and so forth = me working on this. I hope I can set the stage right, so that when things go wrong, you guys go 'whoa'. On with the show.

Chapter 3

The wide, low briefing room was all but empty, which was unusual for the present situation. There were precisely three pilots in the room; Apollo and Starbuck and they didn't look comfortable at all. They weren't the panting, timid men of two days ago. This time, the pair seemed more embarrassed than anything else. Flight Lieutenant Sheba sat with Apollo. They weren't holding hands, but she'd made a point of making physical contact with her knee against his. After last night, she wanted to make sure he knew someone was there for him.

That wasn't to say that there were no more warriors; Adama had been a fighter pilot in his day, and his daughter Athena was also combat-blooded, but time or aptitude had returned them both to the command and control section of the fugitive fleets' survival effort. Weary Cassiopeia, uniformed as one of the big ships' medical technicians, had made a point of sitting beside the Commander, well away from the discomfited lieutenant, though she looked over at him often. Just in case. There were others in the utilitarian chamber as well, but both of them were doctors. Salik was Galactica's chief medical officer and had been since before the disaster. Doctor Wilker was the fleet's leading cyberneticist. Presiding at the front of the room, before the big glass monitor stood Colonel Tigh. At the Commander's nod, he began the meeting.

"Ladies and gentlemen this is going to be a long one," the ebon skinned man began, "so without further preamble, I will begin." He touched a button on his finger sized controller and summoned up a map of the local stars. There was a flashing green globe down in one corner. "Yesterday a long range reconnaissance patrol conducted by Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck of blue squadron encountered what can best be described as a spatial anomaly. While it is possible for me to relay the facts of this mission, Commander Adama and I feel that it would simply be better to watch the mission footage."

There is a difference between real time and subjective time. Real time is, of course, what chronographs monitor. It confirms the cycles of the tides and helps make events predictable. Subjective time is what people feel, what they're aware of. It's what makes the good times go to fast and the bad times pass too slowly. The real time of the mission shown on the monitors was fairly short. The subjective time was, for the two afflicted Viper pilots, an eternity. Fortunately for them, the Colonel cut the playback just after the two ships returned to the realm of multicolored stars.

"As most of you know, during a normal debriefing, we would now have a discussion about procedures and options," Tigh surveyed the group as if noting who seemed to be paying the most attention and who was not. "That will not be the case this time. Our previous end of flight briefing confirmed that Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck performed their duties in the correct and proper manner." He didn't smile when the two men gave a tiny sag of relief. "However, there were so many different occurrences that don't fit into our regulation and practice scenarios, that it was decided that we should continue the discussion of that mission today. We'll now begin with a discussion of the electronic and mechanical failures encountered by our pilots." He gestured to Doctor Wilker.

The small framed man that replaced Colonel Tigh at the front of the room was almost a perfect caricature of a mad scientist. His white lab coat held bits of this and that in various pockets and his hair verged just on this side of wild.

"The first thing that I would like to stress is that the Viper craft flown through the anomaly worked perfectly in all respects, at least according to the rules of our universe." He pressed a button and pulled the video back to the point where the two Vipers crossed into the region of green stars.

"I'm sorry, Doctor Wilker, but your statement implies that the reason Apollo and Starbuck's Vipers malfunctioned was that they somehow entered another universe." Adama's low, calm tone easily cut through the soft murmurs and whispers that were already beginning to rise.

"I believe that's exactly what happened," the white-haired man nodded firmly. "And I also believe that I have the electronic evidence to prove it."

"So buddy," Starbuck whispered, "How does it feel to discover a whole new universe?"

"Great," Apollo replied. His tone implied otherwise.

"Look here, where the Vipers lost power," Wilker pointed at the monitor. "If you'll observe, the mission chronometers indicate that the Vipers didn't lose power simultaneously. Judging from camera footage, we can extrapolate the exact moment both ships translated into the void. Captain Apollo's craft shut down four milli-microns before Lieutenant Starbuck's. As you can see, Captain Apollo's ship completely deactivated just as he passed through the terminator, as did Lieutenant Starbuck's that same interval later."

"But how is that even possible?" Starbuck blurted. "A Viper's electronics are shielded against solar radiation, blaster flares, even old style nukes..."

"Yes, Lieutenant, you're correct," Wilker agreed. "However, all those effects are products of our universe. When your ships crossed over, those shields didn't work. Simply put, your computers couldn't handle the laws of an entirely new reality and stopped functioning." He ran the video forward to the point where the two Vipers regained power. "This reset, here, allowed you to not only recover control of your fighter craft, it allowed your onboard computers to re-sync themselves with an entirely new paradigm."

"You said something about evidence?" Apollo interjected. "This failure could be the product of some random power field."

"In a sense that's exactly what happened, Captain. However, if you look here," the small man keyed up the conversation of the sensors, "both of your ship's sensors malfunctioned in exactly the same fashion, to exactly the same extent and at exactly the same time. Even the best saboteur couldn't achieve such perfect results. Indeed, it would take a very skilled programmer to achieve the same results, a daunting task. When you think about the number of security overrides and safety protocols he or she would have to bypass, there is simply no way a random fluctuation could duplicate these effects so precisely."

"There are mechanical considerations as well." Wilker stepped forward, momentarily eclipsing the screen. "Your ship-board diagnostics showed that your engine power outputs were one thing, but your accelerometers showed something entirely different. These have been checked and rechecked by ground technicians. There is nothing wrong either with your engines of your accelerometers." He turned and moved the footage to the point where Starbuck rocketed away for their radio check. "Your communicators were another item. You were still within short range and yet your signals attenuated. Even your inertial dampeners were affected, which resulted in the nausea you felt when you activated your turbo-thrusters. All of these things together indicate a place where the laws governing energy consumption and even the conservation of momentum aren't exactly the same." He smiled at the looks of bewilderment they were giving him. Wilker almost sketched a little bow as he gestured to the other scientist, "I believe that Doctor Salik has further evidence which will help lend gravity to my theory."

The grizzled, large framed man took the clicker and resumed the briefing with a gravelly voice. "I can't say much about other universes, I'm a medical doctor, not a physicist. What I can tell you is that the apparent psychological changes exhibited by Apollo and Starbuck didn't stem from a mental cause, but a physical one."

"A physical one?" Adama shifted in his seat, piqued. "I thought perhaps battle stress..."

"So did I, at first," Doctor Salik nodded, "but that's before the blood work came back."

"Blood work?" Adama asked.

"Yes," he gestured to the young blonde woman beside the Commander. "If this had all occurred under normal conditions, I would have assumed that it was battle stress and I wouldn't have dug any deeper. However, by the time I'd arrived, Cassie had already begun a series of tests that we normally reserve for viral infection." He favored the tired looking young woman with a brief, uncharacteristic smile. "What her tests revealed was the presence of a series of hormones in the blood that almost never appear together. There was also evidence of inner ear imbalance that we wouldn't have found if you, Commander, hadn't asked for such a comprehensive examination."

"What does all that mean?" Starbuck asked impatiently.

"Well, it took quite a bit of research, but I found out that all of these symptoms have one thing in common; exposure to abnormally dense electromagnetic fields." The older man clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. "That's the only thing that would account for everything happening at once. In a way you two were lucky..."

"Lucky?" Starbuck burst.

"Very lucky, Lieutenant." Salik nodded. "From what I've learned in some particularly old medical texts, prolonged exposure to such dense fields can degrade DNA strands in the human brain. With enough exposure they can even kill you."

"Good thing we got out of there when we did, then" the young man murmured.

"Yes it was." Wilker interrupted. "Fortunately, we're no longer living in the dark ages, modern technology can overcome such challenges."

"Um, wait, that sounds like you're already set up to do it," Starbuck observed.

"Well that's because we are, after a fashion," Wilker returned to his feet as everyone's eyes turned to him. "It shouldn't be hard to put something together in the cybernetics lab that would adequately shield a human being from adverse magnetic fields."

"Personally, I would like to have more information before risking any sort of long term exposure..." Salik began.

"But..." Starbuck stuttered to his feet. "That... that place is just weird. There was all that stuff on beta channel." He looked around nervously. "Apollo, tell him."

"I think what Lieutenant Starbuck is trying to say is that the challenges presented by exploring an alternate universe may outweigh the benefits," Apollo's tone lacked quite a bit of the confidence it normally possessed.

"Unfortunately, we won't know until we investigate exactly what challenges we face," Colonel Tigh returned. He stood and stepped back in front of the monitor. "At this point, this briefing will shift to observations and concerns for future missions. Please be aware that military security restrictions apply."

The Colonel turned to the monitor and fast forwarded to the point where the unknown fighter appeared. The frozen, blurry dart seemed to glow a bilious white/green. "This is one of the reasons we want to investigate. Observe," the man pointed to the monitor, "this ship is obviously a Viper. If there are Vipers over there, there may be spare parts we can trade for."

"Sir..?" Apollo raised his hand.

"Apollo, you know as well as any of us that the fabrication ship cannot produce all the things we need," Adama broke in before Tigh could acknowledge. "Some of our navigational equipment is on its last legs and we've nothing to replace it with. Many of our components use proprietary microcircuitry whose manufacturing processes were lost during the holocaust." Adama leaned around to look his son in the eye, "there's also the fact that we simply don't have all the raw materials we require to produce what we need. In some cases the very machines we use in the fabrication process are beginning to break down."

"Perhaps it's persistent symptoms from the heavy electromagnetic field," Apollo began, "but I don't think we're meant to be there. We didn't evolve for that universe. I think we should leave it alone."

"It's not a question of want," Adama replied sadly. "It's a question of need." He returned his attention to the white-haired scientist. "Doctor Wilker, please give us an idea of what your project will require..."

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After the long briefing, it was time to go for a drink. Starbuck took a deep breath, turned and leaned back against the bar. Somehow everything felt better today. Even the air tasted better now that he wasn't jumping at shadows.

"Hey Starbuck," another pilot walked over, gesturing for a flagon from the barkeeper, "I've got a question."

"Yeah, Bojay, what's that?"

"Well, I was wondering. Everybody considers you a pretty hot pilot..."

'Oh no, here we go. Just because he came over from the Pegasus...' Starbuck pulled a cigar from his jacket with a certain languid arrogance.

"...So why is it that any time there's you're out on deep patrol, you get shot down, or captured, or lost, or just generally have a bad day?"

"It's not a bad day if you can come back every time," Starbuck smiled. "I do."

"Just like a bad cubit," Bojay snarked, to the general laughter of the other pilots.

"Maybe so, but you can bet with the cubit that brings you a return, or the one that loses." It was an effort not to push it further and point out that he was a refugee here. His battlestar was lost in the dark. Starbuck glanced over towards the door just as Cassiopeia walked in. "And on that note, I think I'll go check out a sure thing."

The brown clad young man made his way through the maze of tables and bodies until he reached the blonde med-tech. "Hey Cassie, good to see you."

"Good to see you too," she smiled, pausing on her path. "Are you feeling better?"

"I'm feeling great." He knew his smile was a little too broad, a little too false, but his memory of the gut wrenching fear was still very, very vivid. "So, did you come down to the officer's lounge just to see me, or was there something special you had in mind?"

"Well," she let a teasing forefinger wander down the front of the warrior's tunic, "there was something on my mind."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she smiled broadly as she took a sauntering step by the surprised man, "I was looking for Bojay. He needs to come down to the med bay to get a brainwave scan."

"Good luck with that," he called as the other warriors laughed. "You have to have a brain first."

A/N: Yeah, this one was a bit short, but I had to set the scenes up a certain way. Don't worry, tomorrow's update will be longer. Be prepared...