BSG: BUMP IN THE NIGHT
DISCLAIMER: The excellant and wonderful show Battlestar Galactica is owned by people other than myself. The new one isn't so wonderful. I own neither. This isn't written with infringement in mind. No profit is being drawn. Don't sue me, please.
A/N: I see how I cut this. Yeah, it's a little clunky, but hopefully it keeps the pace up. I really don't want to pull it out and re-edit two chapters... Cue the creepy music.
Barely an hour later the wide, low area known as the pilot's briefing room was full. Apollo stood at the front, watching as still more filed in, until every seat was full. There were even a few people leaning against the walls. In a way it was comforting to see so many filling this area. Not that Bojay was more popular than any other warrior, but somehow seeing the faces looking up at him felt right. This is what humans should do when one of them is in danger.
"Attention." Everyone snapped to at Apollo's order. "Take your seats and we'll begin." He waited until the whispers of movement had ceased. "I know that by now you've heard the rumors that we've found a new magnetic void and that there may be other Colonial warriors on the other side. What you've heard is both true and false. What we've found..."
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"Well, that went well," Boomer said as he walked with his friend and captain to the hangar tram. "Somehow, I was expecting something a little different."
"What? You thought I'd be up for medical furlon?" the young captain forced a smile onto his face.
"That too," Boomer nodded. "Seriously though, a whole 'nother universe?"
"Doctor Wilker says it's possible. Apparently it is." Apollo glanced over. "It's not too late to back out now, you know."
"What, and miss the chance to have my brain scrambled by some weird radiation?" Boomer's tone was sarcastically light. "I wouldn't miss it for all the worlds."
Apollo chuckled.
"Seriously though," the lieutenant continued, "I'd feel better if I was on the rescue shuttle and you were flying cover, not the other way around. It's not like either of us are med-techs."
"No. I've already got some experience with... all that goes on over there. I think that if anyone has to deal with Bojay, it should be me." Apollo frowned as the climbed on to the sideless little car.
"You sure you're not still a bit scrambled and feeling guilty somehow?" Boomer mounted up beside his friend. "I mean, you're not even his squadron leader..."
"No," Apollo shook his head. "Not guilty. Just... worried."
The tram ride was short and fast, just as it should have been. Unfortunately for Apollo, who was watching the shadows flicker on the support frames, every instant he moved down the tube towards the hangar deck meant that he was getting closer and closer to going back there. When the little silver car stopped, the other warriors got off with their normal hustle, but this time, rather than leading from the front, Apollo found himself following.
He watched four of his friends climb into their Vipers while he jogged into the center of the bay, towards a fat-bellied shuttle. He passed through the up-swung hatch and almost ran into a medical technician that was lashing one last something down. The further he climbed, the more people he saw; another med-tech in case Bojay was seriously injured, ground-techs in case he had to be cut out of his fighter. The last three people he saw were to warriors from red squadron, the few who had had some ground combat experience. Up ahead, in the cockpit, someone with a mop of blonde hair was mostly hidden by the co-pilot's seat.
"Everything ready, Starbuck?" Apollo asked as he climbed into the pilot's seat. A quick flip of switches caused the more massive pulse generators in the shuttle to wind up.
"Yeah. Everything's ready to go. Let's get this over with." Starbucks hands went through the launch sequence as speedily as ever.
"Amen," Apollo nodded. He looked back and watched the crew finish adjustments and hurry to strap in. He flicked a switch. "Galactica control, this is Rescue Shuttle One, requesting launch clearance."
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The two men at the shuttle controls could almost feel the skin of their little ship cool as it passed through the hole. When the instruments died, the people in the back began to mutter. Apollo and Starbuck just went through the re-ignition sequence and lit the ship up again.
"Rescue one calling escort one, Boomer, do you read me?" Apollo's voice sounded a little strained as he adjusted his microphone.
"Got you, Rescue One," Boomer returned. His voice also sounded different somehow, as if he'd just realized that whatever he'd been told in the briefing room fell far short of how strange things really were. "Everybody's accounted for. Inertial locators are re-zeroed."
"Sheba said that she followed our original course to the wreck and repeated our survey pattern. She was halfway through when she got jumped." Apollo scanned the green starfield quickly, looking for the friendly blue fires of Vipers. A small smile slipped out when two of the four fighters took up position in front of the shuttle. "From what the techs could get from Sheba's recorder, Bojay went to the far side of the wreck. We'll start our search there."
"Roger, Rescue One," Boomer confirmed.
Starbuck cleared his throat, signaling that Apollo should mute his mic. "Boomer's starting to feel it."
Apollo glanced back to the crew area. One or two of the people were looking up at the weird stars and looking back and around, their eyes never still.
"So are we."
The trip through the dark was blessedly uneventful, indeed it went just a hair smoother than last time, because the ground crew had managed to lengthen the range of their scanners, if only marginally. Still, the universe outside seemed colder than the one back home and everyone aboard was feeling the chill.
"Got something on long range," Greenbean's voice broke the silence, making Starbuck jump. "It's big."
"It's the wreckage I told you about," Apollo said. He still didn't want to use the word 'battlestar'. They'd see it soon enough. "We'll be circling around aft and heading for the beta hangar bay, just like Bojay did. We'll follow his projected flight path from there."
"We may not have to, Skipper," Jolly broke in. "I'm picking an automated distress beacon from up ahead."
"Are you sure it's one of ours?" Starbuck asked nervously.
"What?" Jolly sounded a little confused, but a moment later her responded. "Yeah. It's a Colonial Viper. Registration is Bojay's."
"It can't be this simple," Starbuck mumbled as he shook his head. "Nothing is over here."
It took a little longer to get to the wreck than Apollo remembered. 'Of course last time we had turbos,' he gave a mental shrug. 'No turbos on a shuttle. We're just a big, fat, slow... target.' He frowned and glanced over at Starbuck. The blonde was also frowning when he glanced back.
"By the Lords," Greenbean breathed into his microphone.
"That would be the battlestar we told you about," Starbuck supplied. His own eyes tracked up to the misshapen wreckage that was beginning to blot out the sickly stars. He flicked a couple of switches. "My scanner shows Bojay's beacon is coming from inside the bay. Can anyone confirm that?"
"Yeah, got it, Starbuck," Jolly replied quickly. "It's in there." The big man's voice was artificially stiff.
"So what's the plan?" Starbuck asked, his voice almost garishly nonchalant.
"The plan is that we go get him," Apollo looked over seriously. "I wouldn't want to be left here. Would you?"
Starbuck gulped at the thought.
"Hey, Apollo, I thought you said this wreck was dead," Boomer's voice broke through.
"It is," Apollo returned. "No energizers, no air. It's... a complete wreck." He refused to call it dead. He had the horrible feeling that saying that might be lying.
"I'm getting a power read here," Boomer returned. "Local. On the hangar deck. Looks like the cryonic filters are on... sort of. There's gravity too. Not much, but enough to keep you from floating."
"That's not possible," Starbuck barked. "Check again."
"I'm getting it too," Greenbean supplied. "Power's low, low, low, but there could be air over there."
"Hey, one of you tech guys," the blonde warrior climbed half out of his seat and turned. "Could the power plant from a Viper power gravity and bay filters?"
"N-no," one of the redsuits replied. "Power phase is different. He'd have to rig up some kind of converter..."
"Yeah thanks," Starbuck flopped back, cutting the man off. He looked nervously to Apollo. "I've got a bad feeling about this, buddy."
"Me too." The darker skinned warrior began adjusting his course and checking the monitors. "Still, if Bojay's in there, we have to go get him."
"I was afraid you'd say that," the blonde warrior mumbled.
"Escort One, we're going into the landing bay, you know what to do," Apollo said.
"Roger that, Rescue One," Boomer's voice was firm. Grim. "We'll be here when you come out."
Apollo didn't look away from the yawning shadow of the hangar bay. "Here we go."
As they drew nearer and nearer Starbuck couldn't get rid of the image of a huge, gaping mouth opening up to swallow him.
A/N: One of the worries I had when I was cutting this into bite-sized bits was that the bites would be too big. I was also worried about scene divisions and mood. My usual offering is about 20 pages, but the last few have been 9. I'm starting to feel like I'm serializing Flash Gordon on the radio; 15 minute spots with relevant stuff. Hope they're not too short for you.
As always, please review.