Chapter Nine
What was Ama waiting for?
Dayton sucked in a deep breath, letting it out again slowly, and with it the frustration he was feeling. They'd been standing there in that little witch's circle, thinking about Starbuck for at least ten minutes. He was beginning to feel a little bit foolish, and suspected that any second now Baker and Porter would burst through the door with a vid-cam, recording for posterity his inclusion into the Occult. Or at the very least, the Addams Family! The longer it went on, the more ridiculous he felt. What the hell was he thinking when he agreed to this?
"Blessed Goddess Triquetra, Mother, Maiden, Crone. I call upon your aide for a need not of my own," Ama suddenly intoned in Colonial Standard. It only added to the . . . otherness of the occasion.
Up until then, everything she had chanted had been in some strange, unintelligible language, and it had made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, as his skin prickled, making Dayton want to scratch it off. With one eye, half-open, he glanced at the necromancer. He startled to see a sort of . . .golden aura enveloping her. She stared back at him, her grey eyes boring into his own, as if she had known he was looking.
Then she winked.
Feeling like he did when old Grandmother Dayton caught him snoozing in church at the rebellious age of twelve, he closed his eyes once again. Dayton sucked in a deep breath, trying to focus on an image of the Colonial Warrior that was like a son to him. Where are you, kid?
"I sense his spirit, wilful and strong! Unbending and proud! Oh All-Seeing, most Wondrous Triquetra, guide us along!"
"Oh crap . . ." Ryan murmured quietly. "Is it too late to mention I get car sick?"
"Paddy," Dayton growled.
"Just remember to concentrate on Starbuck while your stomach is heaving, Paddy-Ryan," Ama suddenly quipped.
"Shouldn't be too hard . . ." Ryan returned.
Wordlessly, Dayton flailed out with a foot, landing it on Ryan's butt.
"Ama!" Lia cried abruptly.
"I feel him too!" Luana added.
"So did I!" muttered Ryan, even more quietly.
"Come to me, son . . ." Ama intoned. "Let the energies of the unlimited unite! Let our collective power carry us to Starbuck!"
"Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen. From the top of the porch, to the top of the wall, now dash away, dash away, dash away all!" Ryan added, in keeping with the spirit of the occasion.
"God help me," muttered Dayton. Ryan could be so . . . so Ryan! at times. Why, oh WHY couldn't he have listened to Mom, and taken that job at Boeing? He sighed, gripping Cassiopeia's hand tightly. Gradually, his body began to tingle, at first gently, then with greater energy, as if countless needles were being pressed into his flesh. It kept growing, until it reached an almost painful level of intensity. His stomach twisted in knots, as his head began to spin. Unable to control himself, his eyes flew open. It was blinding! Like staring into an impossibly bright light that had no apparent source.
"Mark . . ." Cassie whimpered beside him.
"I'm here, Cassiopeia. I've got you," he replied, squeezing her hand in reassurance even as the bright light exploded into a billion fragments and he felt himself plunging downward, as if their very deck had dissolved beneath their feet. Downwards, towards an illustrious brilliance.
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More blood. That definitely wasn't good.
Starbuck figured he'd been pretty patient up until then with the ugly little people who had yanked him out of his dimension into their own, under the pretence of needing a drop of blood to save their race. Yeah, they'd made him climb up a mountain, inadvertently forced him into an uneasy alliance with Baltar, and pressed him into this weird-astrum ritual to raise some dead guy that looked like his twin brother. But demanding more blood was going just a little too far. Now if he could only . . .
"Surely, you're going a little too far?" Baltar suddenly asked, his voice deceptively calm.
Baltar as the voice of reason. Lords, Starbuck knew he might as well end it all now!
"I'll second that," Starbuck added, twisting in the grip of the trolls, wondering if Baltar would offer him the distraction that he needed. The point of a blade broke the skin at his throat, and he could feel a small trickle of blood wind a path down his neck.
"It didn't work, Eirys," Baltar walked towards her slowly, holding up a hand as if to reassure her he meant no harm. "Now, I'm no sorcerer, but I'm wondering if perhaps a curse placed by someone with the power of a . . . a Mystic, could actually be reversed by an Angylion Sorceress. What if it is merely beyond your powers?" He pointed at Starbuck. "Can you truly rationalize the sacrifice of one more life? Especially when he is the Doublewalker of your own Prince. Would not Starbuck's death seal Prince Llewelyn's fate for all of eternity?"
The troll sorceress met his eyes, then her features shifted subtly, until she looked uncertain. Her gaze flickered between Starbuck and Baltar. "I said I would raise the King! I promised my people! They are depending on me!"
"Maybe, just possibly . . . you need help," Baltar suggested, and Starbuck could hear the familiar wheedle come into the traitor's tone. "I know you're trying to lure her here, Eirys. This boy is not your only hope. Is he?"
Eirys raised her head haughtily. "You see much, Baltar."
"I have always sought to make it my business to explore all possibilities, gentle Eirys." He clasped his hands together in front of him.
"You're after Ama?" Starbuck blinked. "I thought you were after . . . Apollo."
"Having trouble keeping up?" Baltar smiled.
"You're not exactly catching me at my best."
"Have I ever, Lieutenant?" needled the traitor.
"I guess deceit doesn't come as easily to me," he returned, ignoring Baltar's persistent habit of demoting him, before looking back at the troll. "Then this was all . . . for what?"
"If I may?" Baltar asked Eirys. She nodded and he continued in his most convincing bureautician's voice. "I believe if the ritual failed, Eirys meant for you to be the bait, Starbuck. Presumably, if Eirys can see into our dimension, than if your Empyrean witch is worth her salt in supernatural ability, then she too would see you are in need of help." Baltar glanced at the troll sorceress. "Is that not so?"
"The Telling also told of a White Witch whose powers were unparalleled," Eirys admitted quietly. "I found her in your dimension, but she perceived me as a threat."
"I wonder why," Starbuck deadpanned. "You don't want to fool with Ama, Eirys. She doesn't take kindly to threats to her or anybody else she cares about."
"She wouldn't listen to me. I had no other recourse," Eirys defended herself.
"Felgercarb!" Starbuck shouted, abruptly planting a foot against the altar before him, and launching himself backwards against the restraining trolls. In a mass of arms, legs, and knives, they tumbled to the ground.
"Do not harm him!" Eirys shouted. "We need him alive!"
Suddenly freed from restraining hands, Starbuck gripped his throat from where he lay on the ground, probing the superficial cut he found there. His hand came away bloody, despite the inconsequential nature of the wound. The trolls spread out around him, keeping their distance, but surrounding him nonetheless.
"Eirys!" Caradoc growled in warning.
"I see it."
Gradually, like a gentle mist rolling in off an ocean, a shimmering light appeared, growing more and more intense until the very air crackled with energy. Outside, lightning once again split the sky, and the heavens seemed to roar in warning, the wind screaming. A sudden burst of light blinded them, and Starbuck reflexively shielded his eyes, even as he sensed an abrupt ensuing darkness as the torches around them extinguished inexplicably. Through the field of stars dancing across his vision, a sudden aurora of light appeared. Starbuck blinked, trying to make out the figures before him, hoping rising in his chest.
"Hey, Dayton! This looks like a job for the A-Team!"
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"Sir! The task force is gone!" Cadet Sagaris announced, looking at his scanners.
"Are you locked on?" Dorado asked, moving a little awkwardly to the station. The damn rebuilt Cylon legs still didn't feel like his own.
"I was, Sir, for all of a micron. Point seven four six of a micron, to be exact. The transceiver Commander Dayton was carrying was functioning nominally, and then it just stopped."
"Dead?" Dorado asked, turning his head slightly so he was looking full on at the screen. He was finally automatically compensating for having only one good eye.
"Are you referring to the signal, or the commander?" Malus asked.
"The signal . . ." Dorado growled at the IL, before turning back to the cadet. "Sagaris?"
"We lost the signal."
"Can you extract the failure mode from the telemetry?"
"Trying, sir." Sagaris worked his instruments for a few long moments. "Yes. There did appear to be some kind of weird fluctuation . . ."
"Weird, Sagaris? With everything's that's gone on since before we left the Fleet, you actually reported a scanner anomaly as 'weird'?" Dorado sighed, shaking his head. "Define 'weird' cadet!"
"Sorry, Captain. But it was so infinitesimal, that the computer's still trying to isolate it . . ." Sagaris explained. "Our high speed signal processor is trying to compensate, but . . ." he groaned. "Lords, it just shut down, Captain. I think I've blown a circuit." He snarled, and tried to reroute the system.
"Malus, take a look," Dorado ordered the IL.
"I've already 'looked', as you call it," Malus replied, unplugging the digit that acted as an interface directly into the main computers. "I detected both thermal and energy fluctuations in the Life Station. Sensors record unusual magnetic flux patterns, and an ionisation track that leads from those coordinates straight to the energy source that Starbuck disappeared into."
"Wait a centon," Sagaris looked up at the IL in astonishment. "I didn't see any of that . . . magnetic flux patterns . . ." He shook his head, looking between his CO and the Cylon. He looked down, and replayed the data.
"That's because Malus perceives these readouts more on a mathematical level, Sagaris," Dorado replied. "We're limited by our own technology, and how we interpret it."
"Several mathematical levels, actually," Malus spoke up. "If I could isolate the level of electromagnetic fluctuation and find some way to replicate it . . ." His head jerked spasmodically to the right. "Oh my!"
"What are the odds of that?" Dorado asked sceptically.
"Dismal," Malus admitted. "Still, someone has achieved this . . . action. If it can be done once, then it can be done again, and we can figure out how." His head jerked again. "How strange."
"Maybe it's time for that diagnostic, Mal," Dorado suggested. "Any idea how long it might take to figure this out?"
"Not at this time, Captain. But I have to find Starbuck. He is my friend."
"Do what you can, Mal. I'm open to suggestions," Dorado encouraged him.
"May I use his office, Captain Dorado?"
"His office?" Dorado asked. "Why?"
"I think having his things around me will make me function at a more optimal level."
Bloody Lords! Have I got a Cylon in love on my hands? "That's weird, Malus," Dorado frowned.
"With everything's that's gone on since before we left the Fleet, you'd actually describe anything that I could do as 'weird'," Malus asked.
Dorado sniffed in wry amusement. "Yeah, go ahead. What do you need?"
"Full access to all sensor logs since leaving the Fleet. And one of our computer or physicist experts."
"Right. Coxcoxtli?"
"Sir?"
"You're with Malus."
"Sir."
"Get Baker down there as well, and keep me posted." Try as he might, he couldn't get the image out of his head of Malus sitting at Starbuck's desk, trying to light up a fumarello. "You know, you've been hanging out with Starbuck too long, Mal."
"Not long enough, Captain Dorado. Not nearly long enough," replied the IL.
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It was like something from right out of Tolkien , decided Dayton, as he stared in bewilderment at the scene unfolding before him. Hideous little creatures, looking for the world like "goblins", surrounded two altars, on which two guys that were almost dead ringers for Starbuck and Apollo lay, apparently insensate. A double take later, he realized that both Starbuck and Baltar were also there, and, somehow not surprisingly, Starbuck looked like something out of a really bad horror show, blood running down his neck, and chest as he clutched his throat, while guarding his eyes. One sleeve was rolled up, and blood also trailed down his forearm and hand. All that was missing was Bela Lugosi. For his part, Baltar appeared unharmed, and somehow that didn't surprise the Endeavour commander. Goblins and humans alike were blinded by the same ethereal light that had "transported" the Endeavour crew members there, granting the invading force a serious advantage. Dayton abruptly pulled his weapon, sensing Paddy moving to the right, and finding cover, while simultaneously seeking higher ground, responding quicker than any of the Colonial Warriors who were still taking it all in, as though in utter mental shock.
After thirty years in hell, Paddy would move to further their advantage, succumbing to shock later. Like maybe back on Earth.
"Spread out! Lasers on stun!" Dayton ordered. God, did I say that? That is like just sooooo Trek! He drew his portable scanner, but by then Apollo, Dietra, Luana and Lia had recovered sufficiently for their training to kick in. Their weapons were drawn as well, and they were fanning out to surround the visions of ugliness before them. Cassie stood back, but Ama merely watched with that detached interest she seemed to specialize in. The revolting little creatures turned to face them fearlessly, pulling swords from scabbards, which lead Dayton to believe that was the extent of their firepower. Then, almost unbelievably, the creatures swarmed Baltar, holding a Colonial Weapon to his head. Undoubtedly, Starbuck's.
"Halt, or we will kill him!" the cursed creature cried. "Do you hear me! I will open him up right here!"
"Go for it! There's another two hundred just like him on the Prison Barge!" Ryan shouted maniacally. The troll turned, seeking out the source of the voice, as Paddy leapt down from a rock precipice, grabbing a grubby little being that was standing apart from the others, clutching something in both hands. The creature shrieked. In a blur, it was held fast, a laser jammed in its ear. "Stand down, you filthy, stinkin' little beasts! Do you hear me? Stand down now, or Medusa gets it!"
Good man! Dayton grinned. The commander had also selected the same creature to be their leader. Something in its manner . . .
"Eirys!" another creature shouted, slowly lowering the weapon that it held to Baltar's head.
"Drop your weapons!" Dayton bellowed, his voice ringing through the cavern like a megaphone. "I'm not saying it again!"
The moment seemed to drag on indefinitely, then the tattered, little grub that Ryan was clutching called out, "Lay down your arms! This was not my intention!"
The clang of metal hitting stone rang out around the cavern as the beings dropped their weapons, and released Baltar.
"Kick them over here!" ordered Dayton. The others did so. Without being asked, Lia slipped in, and gathered up the cutlery. Dayton tossed her a smile. Thinks fast! He then looked at Apollo. The colonel waved at the creatures with his weapon, herding them in a circle. Starbuck was arduously climbing to his feet, when Luana flew to his side before anyone else
"What took you so long?" Starbuck quipped, as Lu first clutched him to her, and then stood back to examine his bleeding neck, chest and arm. "It's nothing," he reassured her.
"Can't you stay out of trouble for one day?" Luana asked him, grabbing him roughly by the flight jacket, and looking him over carefully, reassuring herself he was speaking the truth. Wordlessly, Cassie moved in and began checking his injuries, running the biomonitor over him.
"Yeah, what is it with you, Mocha Frappuccino?" Dayton echoed the sentiment. "What the hell is going on here?"
"They were after Ama . . ." Starbuck turned to regard the necromancer, who was standing back, her piercing grey eyes examining every subtle detail and nuance.
Ama raised her eyebrows at the comment, striding forward purposely as she moved to stand before Ryan's prisoner. "Well, here I am. I believe you have something of mine, Hag."
"Eirys," the creature responded, her chin tilted upward to regard the other as she clutched talismans in one hand, and the Oculus in her other. "And you're not exactly a vision of loveliness yourself, Witch."
Baltar chuckled aloud. "I like her more with each passing centon."
Ama too laughed softly, as she snatched the talismans. "Normally, I would turn you into a wild putrid for such insolence, Hag, but I believe someone else has . . . as Dayton might say, stolen my thunder."
"Count Iblis," Starbuck inserted. "These people have a story you all need to listen to, Ama. I'm serious." He glanced at Apollo who was standing over the altars, staring at the two dead men with his mouth agape. Starbuck knew just how he felt. "But before we get started, you should know this whole land is crawling with Cylons. Cylons that are repairing an Abaddon Base Ship, getting ready to launch it into an entirely separate dimension to dominate and destroy God only knows what's out there."
"Are you telling me that after these people tried to cut your throat, that you want us to . . . help them?" Dayton asked Starbuck in disbelief. He glanced at Cassie, who was pulling a field dressing from her med kit. "Check him for another head injury, would ya? He's due."
Eirys looked at Starbuck first in surprise, and then gratefully.
"Look, kid, this was supposed to be a quick in, quick out mission," Dayton continued. "Objective: find you and bring you home."
"Are you listening, old man?" Starbuck threw back at him, brushing Cassie's attempts aside. Ryan moved to her side, grabbing the warrior's arm and holding it for her to wrap. Starbuck glanced at them in irritation, until Ryan snarled at him. Then he rolled his eyes and stood patiently, while exclaiming, "Cylons, Dayton! Base Ship!"
"This isn't our fight, Starbuck!" Dayton replied.
"I'm not so sure about that, Mark-Dayton," Ama informed him.
"Wait a centon," Baltar interrupted. "How is it that when both Starbuck and I entered this dimension, we felt as though we'd been torn inside out, and limb from limb. Yet, you're all fine?" He frowned as Dietra and Lia flanked him, both taking an elbow.
"To put it in relative terms that you would understand, the Hag shot you through a launch tube unprotected, while I remembered to bring my ship," the necromancer replied.
Eirys nodded, gazing at Ama almost reverently. "The Telling was correct. The White Witch's powers are unparalleled. She will be our champion against Iblis."
"Champion against Iblis?" Ama echoed, looking upward and rolling her eyes. "Oh, why do I feel as though I've been set up, John?"
"Jaysus Murphy!" Ryan moaned forlornly. "This is going to get weird again, isn't it?"
"You have no idea," Ama returned with a smile, before reaching out, taking the talismans from the troll. "What is this bauble you hold so protectively to your heart, Hag?"
"It is no bauble," Eirys replied indignantly. "It is the Oculus!"
"If her powers are so great, how is it she does not know of the Oculus?" another creature remarked.
"Starbuck . . ." Apollo rasped, pointing at the two princes with a trembling hand. "What in the nine Lords of Kobol . . .?"
"Our Doublewalkers, buddy," Starbuck replied, suddenly smiling. "I'm telling you, it's quite the story. If only half of it's true, it would still be worth writing down and selling. We'd make a fortune . . ."
"Wait!" said Baltar. "Do you hear something? Marching! Someone is . . ."
Someone's scanner began beeping loudly. They all looked up, as a laser blast from the mouth of the cavern interrupted Starbuck's latest "get rich quick" scheme.
"Cylons!"
"Surrender-Humans!"
"Oh great! Where's Gandalf when we need him?" said Ryan.