Chapter Thirteen
The torches were once again alight, shadows dancing on the rock walls, as the necromancer and sorceress circled the sleeping princes slowly, finally coming to a stop at the head of the altars. Starbuck winced, feeling a twinge of pain in his arm where Cassie had field-dressed his wound. He rubbed it distractedly, sucking in a deep breath, and stepping forward when the Empyrean necromancer met his eyes and nodded.
"Hey kid, I've got your six," Dayton murmured after him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
"Too bad you don't have my hemotype," Starbuck returned wryly.
"That's no Dayton clone, lying there, Caffeine Cowboy," the commander replied, shrugging.
"Thank the Lords for that," Starbuck returned, rolling his eyes. "I can't imagine two of you."
"Mom used to say the very same thing."
"Oh, you two!" groaned Ryan. "Just kiss, and get it over with."
"Starbuck, if you're done . . ." Ama crooked a finger at him, beckoning him forward.
"You know, the last time we did this, it didn't really go all that well for me," Starbuck replied, forcing his feet to move towards them.
"Only a drop of blood, son of my heart," Ama smiled, stroking her talisman with one hand. It seemed to shimmer for an instant, each time her fingers passed over it.
"If I only had a hundred cubits for every time she's said that . . ." Starbuck muttered to Apollo, as he came to stand beside his friend.
"You'd have lost them at the tables on the Rising Star," Apollo returned with a smile. "And then borrowed a few more from me or Boomer."
"Can't even remember the last time I was on the Rising Star," he murmured. "You know, I think that blood loss earlier may have caused some memory problems. Really, my bio pulse lines . . ."
"Does he ever stop talking?" Eirys asked Ama.
"When he does, it's usually time to worry," the necromancer replied, drawing the young men to the head of the altar beside them. "You'll know what to do when the time comes, boys."
"She means 'bleed', in case you're wondering," Starbuck murmured conspiratorially.
"Well, that's encouraging," Apollo muttered.
"Awaken Triquetra, maiden, mother and crone!" Ama intoned, raising her hands, palms upward, as though reaching for the Heavens. "I am Ama, born of Arion and Annica of the Empyrean Imperial House." The talisman around her neck began to shine. "I am the Empyrean necromancer, and I call upon you, blessed Triquetra! Invoke your powers, let your strength be mine, so that I may free the Angylions from this curse!"
The sky outside crackled with lightning, and a boom of thunder shook the mountain. As before, when Eirys had murmured other incantations, an unearthly wind began to blow in the contained chamber, where there should have been none. One by one, the torches extinguished, but unexpectedly, it didn't fall dark. Ama now held her hands before her, seemingly supporting an orb of golden light. It didn't quite touch her hands, but was suspended above them.
"I thank thee, dearest Triquetra," Ama murmured, and she smiled blissfully, basking in the radiance of the light. Moments later, it began to grow, slowly enveloping both her and Eirys. Ama raised her hands to the Heavens once again.
"By Llyr . . ." the Odred cried, a single tear drop running down her craggy face as she raised her Oculus before her. "Gogyfur y'awdurdod o sanctaidd Llyr!"
Starbuck glanced at Apollo, startling as a warm hand gripped his own. Then he was starring into the necromancer's grey eyes, feeling a warmth begin to suffuse him, as she leaned forward, touching his forehead with hers. Comforting and calming, she could take him back to the safety of his own mother's arms with just a touch. It was magical, mystical . . . and if he could only bottle it, he'd be a rich man. She pulled back slightly, smiling at him reassuringly, and tucking her arm in the crook of his elbow, before drawing him forward.
It was as though they were walking through eternity, arm in arm, not a care in the universe. Oh, it was probably only microns that had passed, when he looked down in surprise to see he was standing beside Prince Llewelyn, but it felt much longer.
"To please the gods, we must make a sacrifice . . ." Ama paused, raising an eyebrow.
"We?" Starbuck returned wryly, but raised his hand anyway, not flinching as a small Empyrean blade pierced his fingertip, and a drop of his blood dripped onto her waiting Empyrean talisman.
A moment later, she was doing the same with Llewelyn, as the prince continued his supernatural slumber. Strangely enough, a drop of blood from the long dead prince joined his own. Once again, she took Starbuck's hand, this time wrapping it around Llewelyn's.
"Do not break your grip. No matter what happens," the necromancer warned him.
"O-kay," he replied, swallowing hard. "You don't want to let me in on it, do you?"
Ama smiled enigmatically, returning to the head of the alter.
"Thought so," Starbuck murmured, glancing across at Apollo, where Eirys was putting him through a like ceremony, before she too returned to her place.
"May we overcome the demon who seeks to devour the souls of these people!" Ama declared. "I call upon the power of my Goddess, the will of my mother and the strength of my father! I call upon my ancestors, my bloodlines! Let their life forces surge through me, permitting me to right this wrong! Together, we will overcome! United, we will prevail! Release the Angylions! As Arion's own daughter, I command it!"
"Gogyfur y'awdurdod o sanctaidd Llyr!" Eirys then chanted again, as if to punctuate Ama's words.
Then a blinding light exploded in the cave, like a laser blast in the face, and the ensuing force almost knocked Starbuck over. He almost lost his grip on the prince, dropping to his knees as the mountain shook and groaned, and the wild wind whipped his hair against his face. He squinted against the light, unable to see anything, as his eyes watered against the violent gusts. He huddled against the relative shelter of the altar, still impossibly blasted by the winds that screamed past him like full turbos. Then abruptly, the wind died, and an eerie silence hung over them. A silence that seemed louder than the din that came before.
While a cold hand twitched in his own.
----------
Baker had to close his eyes, as he finally passed through the optical illusion that looked like solid rock. Rock, Paper, Scissors had delayed the inevitable, but now it was his turn. There was just something . . . unreasonable about trying to walk through a rock wall, despite the fact that Malus, Jolly, "Coxman", and Porter had already done so.
What the hell. Captain Kirk did it! It must be true . . .
A friendly slap on his shoulder, and Baker's eyes snapped open, adjusting to the dim light. There was some strange, green overhead lighting to the cavern they had entered, illuminating the chamber sufficiently to see some kind of small Control Centre at one end, and at the other, a small, cylindrical platform, that looked to be carved from the same stone as the cliffs. On top of it was a small sphere.
"Is that it, Mal?" Baker asked.
"Yes, it is. That is the Clavis," Malus replied, heading towards it.
"Doesn't look like much," Porter opined.
"Pick it up," Malus instructed, waving a hand towards it.
Porter glanced at him, and Baker shrugged, refusing to be intimidated by a ball. He stepped forward, wrapping his hand around the strangely warm metal, noticing then that it was an intricate pattern of interlacing metal threads running around and into the ball, seemingly endlessly. It put him in mind of a Celtic knot with its interwoven cords, but seemed far more elaborate than anything he'd seen on Earth. Weirdly, it began to glow softly, almost as if it was in reaction to his grip. His fingers began to tingle as he tried to lift it. His muscles contracted, and unbelievably, he had to exert all of his strength, his left hand joining his right. Still, it wouldn't budge. The small sphere, no more than eight inches across, seemingly weighed God knew how much. "Son of a . . ." He glanced at Porter, who shook his head.
"Bad juju, Bob. Hold up a second," Porter told him, waving him off.
Baker let go, and took a step back. The glow of the sphere faded back to a dull grey metal. The tingling in his fingers took a few moments longer to fade. He glanced at the IL. "Mal?"
"I believe the Clavis is reacting to your biological life form, Baker."
"Huh?" Baker asked, glancing at Malus in surprise.
"The design of the Clavis was described to me as representing the continuous flow of energy, both in the physical plane of the reality of matter, and the abstract reality of the mind. When the Espridians used it, it did indeed glow."
"But how does it work?" Jolly interrupted. "I don't see any sort of controls or instruments on it."
"And why is something that small, so heavy?" Coxcoxtli asked.
"In truth, they never exactly told me how it worked, but from within that orb an unlimited amount of energy is created and released. I believe that accounts for its incredible density." Malus approached it, picking it up as easily as a piece of fruit, before turning, and motioning towards the Control Centre. "Through the Control Centre we can access an interdimensional map of what the Espridians referred to as the Infinite. We simply program our destination, and input the data. The Clavis will take us there."
Coxcoxtli nodded, moving towards the station.
"How do we know where there is?" Jolly asked. "I mean, it's not like we're going to find a sign that says 'your friends are here'."
"Within the mainframe is a detailed record of all the worlds explored and observed by the Espridians. I will merely examine each log, and see if I can come up with a world where Beings exist, such as you all described from the landing bay of the Endeavour."
"Sagan sakes," Jolly muttered. "How long will that take?"
"I don't know," Malus admitted. "Sadly."
"Can we move all this?" Coxcoxtli asked.
"Of course. The Clavis is portable."
"Well, that raises a few possibilities," Baker mused, nodding at Porter.
"Earth?" Porter returned.
"Dayton and Ryan first, Earth later."
"Now just a centon," Jolly inserted. "Don't you think maybe we should test it before we start talking about taking it to Earth?"
"Not a bad thought," Baker shrugged, grinning, "but first we need to see if we can find our people." He glanced back at the IL. "Hop to it, Mal,"
"I'd much rather walk, if it's all the same to you, Baker. The hopping jolts my diodes."
----------
"There it is," Baltar said over the howling wind, as he crouched down behind the outcrop of rock. Behind them, far back up the trail, small fires could be seen, kindled by debris from the crashed Raider. Lightning split the sky, and the heavens rumbled in accord. "One Cylon transport, with one guard."
"That we can see," Dietra inserted, her eyes raking the barren landscape where rock and scrub seemed to be the sole features. "There could be others. The Cylons aren't exactly known for going it alone."
"I'm ashamed to say that here in Morlais, the Odreds are considered more of a nuisance than . . ." The general suddenly doubled over, grunting. His fellow soldiers followed suit, guttural sounds torn from their throats as they writhed in pain.
"What the frack . . .General?" Luana put a hand on the Odred, then jerked it back as a strange energy and aura surrounded Caradoc and his men. She shielded her eyes against the intensity of the growing light, retreating from them. "Holy Triquetra . . ."
"The timing couldn't be better, Witch . . ." Baltar murmured as he too stepped back, shielding his own eyes, and knowing the energy would be throwing off a light like a beacon. It was the perfect decoy to draw the centurion's attention. He tightened his grip on his weapon, patting Luana on the arm to get her attention. "I'll take the right, you take the left. We'll circle around the centurion, using the shelter of the rocks, and rush the shuttle. Lieutenant Dietra and Ensign Lia can take the centurion when it reaches this position."
"What makes you think you're giving the orders here, Baltar?" Dietra snarled, gripping his arm as he turned to go. "You might have General Caradoc fooled, but I haven't forgotten what you did to our people . . . our civilization."
Baltar turned back, looking her in the eye. "Think of it as a suggestion that merits your careful, but quick, consideration, Lieutenant. We needed a distraction, and here it is. We need to act now to take advantage of it."
"Baltar's right, Dietra," Lia inserted, peering over the rock that shielded them, "as much as I hate to admit it. And the centurion's heading this way. Now."
"We understand how your people feel about Baltar, Dietra," Luana added quietly. The Twelve Colonies of Man were star systems apart from her own beloved home on the planet Empyrean. "And believe me, I'll be keeping an eye on him, and won't hesitate to shoot him if he shows the slightest inclination to betray us."
Baltar's features twisted into a nervous smile as he contemplated Starbuck's wife, then looked back to Dietra. "There. Feel better now, Lieutenant?"
"Loads," Dietra grunted wryly, then nodded. "Okay, let's move out."
"Holy frack!" exclaimed Lu, looking at the locals. "They're . . ."
"Here he comes!" interrupted Baltar.
----------
"Ah Captain, there you are. I understand we have a stowaway." Cain lifted his swagger stick, motioning towards his daughter with it as she hustled onto the Pegasus Bridge.
"Yes, sir," Sheba inclined her head, ascending the command platform. She'd more or less left Boxey in Roz's care so she could report to the Bridge. The attractive lieutenant had every intention of putting the youngster to work, assigning him to the mess sergeant. It would teach the boy that life had consequences—that he had to be responsible for his actions—while also occupying him during regular duty centars, not that a strike captain actually worked regular centars. Later, Sheba would have to figure out how Boxey would continue his education while aboard the Pegasus, assuming they'd be out long enough to worry about it. Surely there were instructional modules somewhere on the computer system that had survived the damage and fire which she could access, but then again, who would stand over Boxey and see that he did them was a mystery. He was a bit young for a self-directed education, after all. Not to mention self-directed responsibility. Also, there was the issue of what the boy could do for just plain fun. Other than his trusty daggit, there was little in the way of recreational activities on the Pegasus suitable for children. Then again, young male cadets weren't really that far from being children anyway, she reckoned with a smirk. Perhaps she could pick Bojay's brain about activities to occupy the boy . . . even something to make her own time together with a small boy more comfortable as they were thrown together. . . "Boxey."
"Apollo's son stowing away on a shuttle," murmured Cain. "Not a character trait I would associate with the cap . . . colonel. Wouldn't you agree, Tigh?"
"You never knew Apollo as a teenager," Tigh inserted with a chuckle, as he leaned over Flight Officer Raetic's shoulder. "I'll let Adama tell you those stories."
"Then again, Boxey's adopted, isn't he?" Cain added. He tapped his temple, as though jogging his memory. "Right?"
Sheba shrugged dismissively, not wanting to discuss Apollo's family on the Bridge, but curious nonetheless to hear of Apollo's wilder side. So far, he hadn't mentioned it.
"I assume that after this breach, Captain, you'll be getting our security standards back up to snuff?" Cain inserted. "If the Cylons knew our secure military vessel was infiltrated by a seven-yahren-old boy and his daggit, we would be doomed. Hades, if Adama finds out, he'd laugh me all the way back to Gamoray."
"Oh, he already knows, Commander," Sheba informed him, recognizing the playful glint in her father's eye. That side of him had become more pronounced since his recovery from his injuries and upon rejoining the Fleet. As though the Juggernaut had a new lease on life, and was making the most of it. "After all, I couldn't very well leave Commander Adama in the dark about this."
"I suppose not." He glanced at Tigh. "Colonel, have we picked up the Endeavour on our long-range scanners yet?"
Raetic smiled knowingly as he nodded at the colonel, leaning over the monitor. It was as though the Juggernaut instinctively knew . . .
"Only just, sir," Tigh replied, turning back to the commander. "Other than the Endeavour, our scanner is clear. We're still outside of communications range."
"And the energy source?"
"Sensors still can't identify it, Commander," Raetic inserted. "It's an anomaly."
"Men have said the same about me," Cain grinned. "Set a course for the anomaly. And open a line to the Endeavour once we're within range."
"Yes, sir."
----------
"Captain, we just picked up a contact on our long-range scanners," Cadet Sagaris reported. "At extreme range."
"Identity?"
"Still too far for any details, sir. But it's definitely a ship, and headed this way at lightspeed. Factor One point six-six."
"Concentrated scan, Sagaris," said Dorado. He looked over at the commsuite. "Anything, Pierus?"
"Not . . . yes. Just barely. An ID beacon . . . Colonial. Checking." Pierus replied, pausing while the computer ran the numbers. "Confirmed."
"Have it now," said Sagaris. "Definitely one of ours. She's a Battlestar."
"The Pegasus?" Dorado asked, half an eye still on the sensors.
"Aye, sir. ID beacon confirmed."
"Checking up on us, Commander Cain?" the captain murmured quietly, crossing to the scanner. His first reaction was one of mild annoyance at his former CO, and then he remembered that his current superior officers were both in an alternate dimension, leaving him—a man with more rebuilds than the Endeavour and Pegasus combined—in charge of the newly minted Covert Operations Ship. "Any word from Lieutenant Jolly?"
"Message coming in now, Captain," Pierus replied. "Go ahead, Lieutenant."
"Captain, Jolly here. We've located the Espridian device. It's fairly small, actually, and Malus has concluded that it's mobile, and that we can move both it and its Control Centre to the Endeavour."
"To the Endeavour?" Dorado repeated. "Are you guys actually thinking about flying this old bird through some kind of . . . unknown alien space portal?"
"Pretty much, Captain," Jolly replied grimly. "After all, we don't know what kind of resistance we're going to be meeting, and we'd rather go in prepared. With your approval, of course, sir."
Dorado closed his eyes briefly. Sagan, he was the officer that had spearheaded the mission to throw the antiquated, derelict and damaged Cylon Abbadon-class Base Ship against a relatively shiny and new Hades-class vessel, and had won. After a micron's careful contemplation, he knew that Dayton would do it. Damn sure, Starbuck would do it. And knowing that his people were counting on him, Apollo would do it too.
"Sounds like fun, Jolly. Now get your astrums back here ASAP, before Commander Cain tries to steal our thunder. The Pegasus is closing in."
"Yes, sir!"
----------
Abruptly, the mountain rumbled and shook again like it was going to come apart, and Starbuck knew exactly how it felt as he stared into a pair of shocked blue eyes, so like his own. It was unnerving, to say the least, but at least he was prepared. The poor kid looked like he had seen a ghost, and even the faint glow of his skin, giving Prince Llewelyn an ethereal appearance, couldn't hide his disbelief and instinctive fear as he awakened from a ten yahren slumber, that had him teetering on death's door.
"Who . . . who are you?" Llewelyn gasped, his voice rough and raspy, tearing his hand from Starbuck's as he looked around. His eyes settled on his brother, also rising only a metron away, Apollo at his side. "Glynn!" he croaked, coughing. "You . . . you're alive!" he sat upright, feasting hungry and desperate eyes upon his brother, before swinging his legs off the altar, and using it as a physical barrier between him and Starbuck. Instinctively, he reached for a weapon that wasn't there. Having no alternative, he doubled his fists, and took a boxer's stance. "What . . . what witchcraft is this?"
"You don't know how close you are to the truth, pal," Starbuck replied calmly, holding his hands up to show the prince he meant no harm. "Captain Starbuck of the Colonial Covert Operations Ship Endeavour."
"Star . . . Colonial?" The other shook his head. "Babbling fool! What madness is in your mouth?"
"Hey, it's true. My name is Starbuck. Or as Eirys would probably prefer to put it, your doublewalker from another dimension."
"He speaks the truth, my prince!" Eirys averred, stepping forward in all her splendour.
Before, a vile troll, she was now a vision of beauty, an enchantress. Her long blonde hair blew around her slender figure, a soft light emitting from her making her look like an angel. Every man in the cavern, with the exception of Llewelyn and Glynn, seemed to suck in a stunned breath at her radiance. A glance at Cassie showed she looked just as overwhelmed by the princes . . . although even Starbuck could admit, they were handsome fellows, most notably Llewelyn . . .
"Doublewalker?" Llewelyn echoed, shaking his head in bemusement. He visibly relaxed. "For the love of Llyr, the legend is true!" Then he paused, frowning, as he looked back to his brother. "Which means . . . we were both . . . dead . . . Glynn . . . " his voice peaked anxiously.
"Breathe easy, brother," Glynn crossed to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "If we have been given a second chance, let us make the most of it, instead of dwelling on it."
A crack of thunder roared, and lightning sundered the sky. An impossible wind tore through the cavern, and Starbuck glared at Ama, as the elements continued to assault them. "Do you mind?"
She reached out, grabbing his hand, and pulling him close. "Get the princes out of here. Now."
"Why? What's going on?" he asked, feeling his guts churn in reaction to her serious demeanour.
"He's coming!" Eirys cried, raising her hands skyward. "I . . . I feel the Mystic's approach!"
"Iblis?" Starbuck asked, his chest hitching at the very thought of the evil Being that had killed Apollo.
"No, Father Yule," Ama returned sarcastically. Another sheet of lighting ripped across the sky, the concussion of the thunder shaking more rocks loose about them. She turned to Dayton. "Get them all out of here, Mark-Dayton. This is my fight. Yours awaits you at the Base Ship."
"Are you sure, Ama?" Dayton asked.
"I'm sure."
"Giddy-up," Ryan grimaced, sitting up painfully. "This should be fun. From the top of Mt. Crumpet . . ."
"Is there another way out?" Dayton asked Eirys as he began to pull Ryan to his feet, allowing his friend to lean heavily on him.
"Well . . ." she began reluctantly.
"The ore carts!" Llewelyn inserted, waving a hand at the back of the cave.
"Those carts haven't been used in generations!" Glynn reminded him. "Rusted hulks."
"Don't be so sure," Starbuck replied.
"He's right." Apollo replied. "Your people have been mining ore ever since the Cylons invaded, Prince Glynn. Let's move out!"
Llewelyn moved to help, as Cassiopeia struggled to her feet. "Are you hurt, my lady?"
"It's superficial," Cassiopeia returned a little breathlessly, as she accepted the prince's hand. "I'll be all right, Prince Llewelyn."
"What is your name?" Llewelyn asked, kissing the back of her hand, before putting a supporting arm around her.
"Cassiopeia."
"Are all the women from your dimension as breathtaking, Cassiopeia? I believe I should very much like to go there."
Cassie smiled at the resplendent prince. "Are all the men in your dimension so charming?"
"Alas, only I," Llewelyn returned with a mischievous grin. "The rest are louts and boors."
"Hey, bub," Dayton interrupted, tempted to drop Ryan, and then the prince. "Back off! The lady's spoken for."
"Llewelyn . . ." Glynn chastised his brother.
"Such a vision of loveliness, my brother," Llewelyn explained. "I cannot resist."
"Lords," murmured Apollo with a glance at Starbuck. "Let's get out of here, people!"
"I will stay and face Iblis with you, White Witch," Eirys told her.
"No, Eirys. Stay with your princes, and reunite them with your people." Ama replied. "To have their sovereigns, and the sorceress who saved them, lead the Angylions against the Cylons will be a good omen, indeed."
"May Llyr watch over you, Ama," Eirys gripped her hand.
"May he stand with me instead," Ama returned, returning the gentle pressure. "Now go!"
Starbuck stood there uncertainly as the others headed towards the back of the cave. "Ama, come with us."
"And ride those mine carts?" Ama returned with a gapped tooth grin. "I'd rather walk, Dear Heart."
"Ama, Iblis is . . ." He didn't really know how to put it, and instead grabbed her hands, shaking his head slightly as he tilted his forehead against hers. Then he tried to remember every moment of every encounter he'd had with Count Iblis since meeting him on that strange planet, right up until the count had struck down Apollo and disappeared. Ama could relive it all with him, getting every impression, every subtle nuance that he couldn't convey in words in the short time they had.
Ama smiled, pulling back her forehead from his, and looking into his eyes. "I know what Iblis is, Starbuck. More importantly, I know who he is."
"He's no ordinary man."
"I'm no ordinary woman, son."
"Ama . . ." His throat tightened inexplicably. After all she had done for him, all she meant to him, it was like abandoning his mother to face a demon. He shook his head. Come to think of it . . .
He couldn't do it.
"Star-buck!" Apollo's voice called from deep within the cavern. Again, thunder boomed, and rock dust rained down.
"You must go, Starbuck. I have to do this alone," Ama told him gently. "Now, son."
"But . . ."
"Kid!" Dayton suddenly barked, running towards them. "The train is leaving. Let's go! We have a battle to win!"
Ama nodded at the commander thankfully as Dayton gripped Starbuck's arm persuasively. "Take him, Mark-Dayton. Get him out of here."
Starbuck tore loose, taking a step away from the Earthman, ignoring the sudden burning pain of his various injuries. No, he couldn't leave her to Iblis. He couldn't face coming back and finding her dead, another victim of the vile Count. "Back off, Dayton!"
"The hell I will," Dayton threw himself at the younger man, gripping him again, and jerking Starbuck back against him. He locked an arm across the warrior's chest, dragging him backwards. "You're . . . you're coming with me! That's an order!"
"Take your order . . . and shove it up your . . .egotistical, overbearing . . . " Starbuck snarled, twisting in the man's hold, looking for an opening. He was running on pure adrenaline now.
"Hey! I'm your friend! Your CO! The Big Kahuna!" Dayton roared. "Calm the hell down, Espresso Bean! Let's put things in perspective here!"
"Let me go, Dayton, or I'll flatten ya!" Starbuck rasped, trying to struggle out of the commander's tylinium-clad grip. "Ama . . . I can't . . ."
"Starbuck, understanding as you do what he is, you can't protect me from Iblis. As much as you wish otherwise, you know that is true," Ama told him as Dayton adjusted his grip on the younger man. "This is my fight. My destiny."
"We have to go, Extremo-Caf!" Dayton repeated, sensing the growing desperation in the younger man. There was really only one way to handle this. With a sudden move, he twisted Starbuck in his grip, grasping his shoulders, and pulling the young captain to face him. "Listen to me. If you want to stay, I won't stop you. All right?" The kid relaxed at that, looking at him almost uncertainly. Dayton released him, holding his hands up innocuously. "Now listen to me. Just hear me out. Okay?"
Starbuck nodded once, glancing at Ama who was glowering at them impatiently.
And that's when Dayton sucker punched him.