BSG: BUMP IN THE NIGHT

DISCLAIMER: Same as always. I loved the show. I own nothing. This is done for recreational purposes (and to keep me awake at work). No copyright infringement intended.

A/N: This is the last chapter I have ready. If you like it, let me know. Likes = me continuing. (Although I have to tell you, the few reviews I've gotten make me want to keep going.) I am still working on my main and the current chapter has been giving me fits. Be aware also, that My main comp is currently deceased and I do most of my stuff on my laptop, which because of the vagaries of modern technology (i.e. the twenty-first century dummy programming) I can't get onto my home network. So it's laptop to thumbie, thumbie to main. Sorries. My life is chaos. Anys, here's the cliffhanger. Let me know what you think and want.

(I hope you want more, because I'm not nearly done sticking it to Starbuck. I love the guy, but he's too easy to pick on.)

Chapter 8

"No, lieutenant. I haven't heard from Captain Apollo for more that twenty centons. He doesn't answer my calls," Sabas made no effort to hide his discomfort as he spoke into the mic. He had to move his head around to see anything clearly through the shuttle's thick glassteel net of wiring hanging down from the hangar ceiling clung to the little ship like a curtain. The two ground techs were out there, the shuttle's spotlights reflected off of their red coveralls making them look somehow flat. "To be honest, I'm getting a little nervous."

"Don't be." Boomer's return sounded appropriately relaxed. "A battlestar's made of heavy structural metals. If there are no repeaters between you and Apollo's group, the signal might not penetrate."

"Then why do we hear each other so clearly?" Something thumped on the outside of the ship. Sabas looked out again. The two techs were still out there, working on the Viper.

"First of all, because a shuttle has a much more powerful transmitter than anything carried by hand," Boomer replied. Sabas could easily imagine the warrior rolling his eyes. "Second, we're on almost a straight line with each other with nothing in between. There's no reason we shouldn't."

The thump came again, this time it was accompanied with a dragging noise. Sabas shivered a little. "Must be the dense electromagnetic field," he mumbled. "It's making me jumpy."

"What was that?"

"Hey, if the transmitter on the shuttle is so much more powerful, why am I not getting a signal from Captain Apollo?"

"There's a difference between transmitting and receiving power," Boomer replied. "Apollo's probably getting your messages, you're just not getting his, because his transmitter's so weak."

The thump came a third time, this time from a different part of the shuttle. It sounded like it came from the cargo bay. The med-tech looked out again. Icarion and Bardas were gone. He sighed, hoping they were fishing some of their gear out of storage.

"Listen, he's still got a lot of time before we need to worry," Boomer said. "He hasn't been out of contact for a full centar yet."

"I know. It's just..." Sabas shook his head. "This place is really, really strange."

Boomer's chuckle was more reassuring than anything he'd said so far. "Well, it'll be over soon. They'll be back with Bojay and you'll all be out before you know it."

"I hope so."

"Count on it. Listen, keep the channel clear, just in case. I'll check with you again in ten centons. Boomer out."

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"Hey, Boomer?" Jolly's unexpected voice made him jump. Starbuck had been right. These green stars really were creepy. "I'm getting movement in the debris field. Twenty plus forty-five."

Boomer's eyes went to his own short range scanner as Greenbean's voice broke in.

"Activity. Something's moving a little faster than a normal drift. Felgercarb," the young pilot's frown was easy to picture. "It's behind me. Negative sixty-eight by eighty."

"Okay, start closing up. It's about to pop," Boomer announced. "Stringbean, Jolly, form low and orient on our outbound course..."

"HOLY FRAK!" Sabas' voice erupted into his headset. "IT JUST JUMPED ICARION!" the sound of blaster fire began to chirp through the helmet speakers.

"Sabas?" Boomer demanded. "Sabas?" He waited for a second for an answer before commanding his wingman. "Demetra, form on me. We're going high. Weapons free, people. If it's not our shuttle, you are clear to engage."

"We're coming out!" Sabas' panicked voice trembled into the headset. "Some fracking thing jumped on Icarion. Tyche shot it, but there are more! Lots more!."

"Sabas, calm down. More what?" Boomer demanded. "What's your status?"

"We're under attack. They look like people, but they're not..." There was a rustle as the microphone shifted, then Bardas came on. He sounded fearful, but functional.

"We're under attack. There are these... things all over the shuttle." The whine of the ship's big pulse injectors seemed to add a note of desperation to his voice. "They're like crazy people. One of them jumped Icarion while we were working on Bojay's Viper. It... Oh lords, it tore his throat out with its teeth."

"Vipers closing in, boss," Jolly announced. "They're moving up to battle speed. Do you still want us to engage?"

"H-hold on, Bardas," Boomer barked angrily. "Broadcast a challenge on unicom. If they ignore it, blast them out of the sky." He didn't wait for confirmation. "Bardas, Bardas, can you hear me?"

"Boomer, I'm getting movement in the bay," Demetra announced. "The shuttle's moving." Then she exploded.

The flash of the woman's death shocked the warrior for just an instant. His reflex blipped his turbos, shoving him erratically forward. "Ambush, ambush, ambush," He shouted angrily. "Weapons free. I say again weapons free." He chirped the aft end of his Viper and sent a burst of hate-filled orange bolts out towards the first moving target his gunsight lined up on. There was a satisfying flash. "If it moves and it's not ours, kill it."

Boomer's dark hand slammed his throttle forward and he rolled with the rising power, orienting, looking over his canopy combing towards the hangar bay below and behind him. He didn't have time to look long. Fat, green bolts skittered by, jerking his eyes out into the drifting field of dust and debris. He fired back, missing.

"They're Vipers," Jolly sounded surprised. "Boss, those are Vipers shooting at us."

"So shoot back," Boomer ordered. "They just got Demetra."

It was a few short, tense moments as Boomer wheeled after his attacker, fired off a few more volleys and turned back before he had something even vaguely resembling good news.

"I have eyes on the shuttle," Greenbean's voice stuttered as something exploded on his end. "It's coming out in a hurry. Oh f..."

"They're on board!" Bardas shouted into his mic. "Hatch is closed. Tyche's... Frak. Frak! FRAK!" The shuttle's transmission died in static.

"They've clipped the mouth of the hangar," Stringbean announced. "Sec..."

Boomer didn't have a second to wait. Another set of green bolts sizzled past his cockpit. His thumb clamped down on the IM button and he nearly threw up as his fighter slammed into reverse. He lined up and fired, turning his enemy into a rapidly expanding ball of gas and burnt metal.

"They're rolling, but seem to be getting control. No air streaming..." Jolly grunted as something else popped. "Yeah, they're accelerating."

"Clear them a path," Boomer ordered as he wheeled his little ship around. "They're priority one. Get them the frak out of here."

The two other surviving fighter pilots confirmed and began their deadly dance. Time changed. Seconds became hours, life itself measured in instants of reaction time. The future and the past stopped existing. There was just 'now' and now they were fighting to keep the shuttle alive. None of them really believed they'd done it when the shuttle lumbered through the hole into friendlier stars. Greenbean's victorious whoop was cut off as his Viper crossed the terminator and went dark.

Boomer saw the garish enemy bird come in, already setting up to kill the lead Vipers. Neither Stringbean nor Jolly had the time to restart. He didn't have the angle. It didn't stop him from trying.

The enemy fired one bolt. One. Then it exploded. In the distance another Viper appeared, screaming into the dark between the shuttle and the ball of flame that had just been an enemy fighter. It shut down as it crossed over and the enemy's wingman lined up for the kill. Boomer had time to pop that one before he crossed and his fighter switched itself off.

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"Galactica control, this is Rescue Escort One," Boomer's voice was heavy, unhappy in the bridge's speakers. The sound of it made Athena glance up to the high center console where Omega, Colonel Tigh and her father waited.

"W-we read you, escort one," she returned anxiously. "What's your situation?"

"We need a recovery shuttle. The rescue shuttle has been damaged and it's out of communication," Boomer replied. "I'm not seeing any movement inside. Integrity seems good, but it's moving in a straight line. No acceleration, but it is under power. Copy?"

"We here you," Athena lowered her head worriedly. "What is the status of your flight?"

"We were ambushed. I lost Demetra. All other fighters intact." There was a long pause. "I don't know if Starbuck or Apollo are on the shuttle. I only heard Sabas and Bardas. They mentioned Tyche and Icarion. No one else."

Athena looked back again, but Colonel Tigh was already giving orders to ready another recovery shuttle. She caught her father's eye and was about to stand when he shook his head. Until this moment she'd never realized just how old and fragile he looked. From the hard look in his eyes, his fear was hers. She'd just lost another brother. He'd lost another son.

A/N: I know the last few chapters have been short. I kind of cut them ouot of the main document that way. When I look at them in Word, they look so much longer, honest. (Of course they're double spaced...)