Chapter Fourteen

The air was suddenly still, the cavern eerily silent. A slight shiver passed over Ama, and she took a deep involuntary breath, as she felt a familiar malignant presence probing her, trying to infiltrate the pureness of her spirit. However, her powers had grown significantly since the last time they had met in the solitude of the Celestial Dome over seven sectars ago, and she had fought him off then, repelling his assault. She had learned much from that encounter. This time his persistent scrutinizing was more like a nibble than an attack.

"Show yourself, Iblis," she demanded. "Do you hear me? Show yourself!"

The flash of light and blast of wind would have startled a lesser individual, but Ama stood her ground as Count Iblis appeared before her, resplendent in his long white robes. His dignified and handsome looks were deceiving, misleading any who did not know his true nature. However, Ama had never been impressed by looks, knowing anyone can wear a façade.

His gaze bored through her. "You dared to invoke Arion's name when you freed the Angylions! Stripling! A name banished by the Elders from history!" he accused her. "By what right, Fool?"

"That right which is mine alone," she replied, her intense gaze matching his own. "For I am Arion's daughter. I am Arion's blood."

"Daughter . . ." he replied, taken aback. His eyes narrowed as he peered at her.

She felt his powers probing her, looking deep beyond mortal sight, then his features softened ever so slightly.

"Ah, yes. I see it now," Iblis murmured. Then he whispered, "Annica."

Ama probed him in turn, trying to read his feelings and mind, and getting a mere glimpse of the depth of emotion he had once felt towards Annica. Then his eyes flashed angrily at her, as he realized she had infiltrated his defences. The barrier was erected in a milli-centon. It was like trying to infiltrate a fortress, the walls around his mind were impenetrable. "Then you do remember her," Ama returned, a little bitterly. "I should, of course, be . . . flattered."

"Of course, I remember her," Iblis insisted, a further flash of annoyance crossing his features as he considered the necromancer.

"Then tell me how a man so beloved," Ama tilted her chin up, preparing herself for anything, "could turn into one so despised, father of mine."

----------

"Go!" Baltar whispered urgently to Luana, as the centurion drew closer. "Now!"

It was difficult to focus on the mission, as she gazed in disbelief at the former Odreds, who were now picking themselves slowly off the ground, examining themselves and each other in awe and disbelief. As a race, Luana had to admit, the Angylions were some of the most beautiful Beings she had ever laid eyes on. She closed her gaping gob, swallowing down her incredulity as she gasped at General Caradoc's transformed appearance. He looked like a younger version of Baltar, but incredibly fit, with a full head of hair, and filled with a determination and purpose that filled every fibre of his very existence. Ancient battle dress replaced the stinking rags he had worn as an Odred, however, the diminutive sword he carried now looked out of place, hefted as it was by his huge hand, his arm behind it packed with sculpted muscles. Now, rather than some bent and deformed goblin, he looked like a professional bodybuilder. Lords, he was fracking gorgeous!

She smiled slightly, wondering what her reaction to Prince Llewelyn would be if Caradoc so inspired her. After all, she could spend idle centars gazing upon the handsome visage of Starbuck. A living, breathing Llewelyn would be like Starbuck to the nth degree! With a lascivious grin, she shook off the reverie, returning her mind to the task at hand. If they could reach the shuttle at the same time as the centurion reached Dietra and Lia, then they would maintain the advantage. Lu knew that.

Wordlessly, Luana slipped away, using the shelter of the rocks and trees to creep towards the shuttle as the centurion lumbered to a sudden stop, staring up at the top of Mt. Cadoc. Lightning and thunder that had angrily filled the sky and the senses, had suddenly stopped, making Lu wonder what was going on in that cave. The centurion certainly seemed perplexed by it, if that was possible with a cybernetic Being.

With the benefit of youth and fitness, and long established habits of tracking and hunting in the wilds of the Planet Empyrean, she reached the shuttle before Baltar, waiting for him silently under the cover of half-dead scrub. The centurion was still, his characteristic drone filling the relative silence eerily, making her want to shoot him now. Damn, but she hated the waiting, harbouring an impatience that she struggled with each and every time she was about to spring an attack. But experience had taught her that timing was crucial to success.

Moments later Baltar appeared, moving towards the Cylon transport with a stealth that surprised her. Actually, Baltar surprised her. It was difficult to equate this man with the one that had betrayed the Colonies. Was it possible for any individual, especially one who had facilitated the death of billions, to undergo such a dramatic transformation in character? Still, the obvious hatred and contempt felt by her own husband, as well as so many others, cautioned her to keep wary, even knowing that Baltar had saved Starbuck's life on Planet 'P'.

She smiled slightly as Baltar, head barely visible above some ferns, nodded curtly at her, giving her a signal. Yes, he certainly was taking charge, as though they were all his own personal warriors to command. Old habits died hard, she decided. She crept forward, now out in the open, but keeping low so as to keep out of the line of sight of any Cylons lurking within the transport. Microns later she was standing on one side of the open hatch, and Baltar was on the other.

Baltar nodded again, and together they moved. She let him slip inside slightly ahead of her, almost hearing Starbuck reminding her subconsciously not to let the traitor out of her sight. Simultaneously, a laser blast from outside bespoke of that centurion's demise. At that, two further centurions waiting on the flight deck moved away from the instruments, heading aft. Baltar shot the first, its pulse rifle barely raised, and a split micron later, Lu fired on the other. In a explosion of sparks, they toppled to the deck.

Baltar turned to Lu with an infectious grin of complete and utter joy. "We did it!"

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," she returned with an answering smile.

Baltar replied with a heartfelt chuckle, turning as the Angylions rushed aboard, moving with a grace and assurance that seemed inherent to their breed.

"Well done, my friends!" General Caradoc smiled, holding his arms wide as he approached them. "This is it! The moment the Angylions rise against the Cylons! We will crush them! Annihilate them! No longer will the Cylons threaten our world, or any other in this universe!"

"The princes . . .?" Baltar started to ask.

"The curse has been lifted! Eradicated!" Caradoc returned in a booming voice. "I can sense our sacred princes already preparing to join our forces, to lead them to victory! We must rendezvous with them at the mine. There you will be reunited with your people."

"But how will they get from the cave to the mine . . ." Luana asked uncertainly.

"The old abandoned mine carts," Caradoc returned. "Fifty years ago, the tracks connected every mine in Morlais without exception. However, King Byrne decided the Holy Sanctum should be used only for sacred rites and ceremonies; therefore, it was placed off limits for the general population."

"Wait a centon," Baltar inserted. "These decrepit mine carts are how our people are currently getting off the mountain, instead of simply walking out the entrance and down the path?"

"Time is of an essence, my brother. Our princes will realize that," Caradoc nodded. He glanced out the viewport, back up towards the mountain, where a crack of lightning fractured the sky once again. "Our forces will be amassing as we speak. A race of Angylions will be arming themselves for the most important battle of our history. They need leadership and inspiration. They need their sovereigns and their general."

"Then we must make haste!" Baltar agreed, glancing at Luana. "Can you fly this old rattrap?"

"Fly a derelict Cylon transport?" she asked with a wry smile, as Dietra and Lia boarded behind them, a pulse rifle in Dee's spare hand. "Nothing to it."

Caradoc grinned joyously, motioning the Colonial Warriors forward. "Then let us proceed! Freedom! Glory! Morlais!"

The engines roared to life, and the transport began to rise.

"Freedom! Glory! Morlais!"

----------

Starbuck awoke to a sudden jolting of his body, and a throbbing in both his jaw and the back of his head. He groaned, as he forced open heavy-lidded eyes to see Dayton looking down at him in concern, hanging over the edge of a mine cart.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" the Endeavour commander asked, putting a blurry hand in front of the warrior's face.

"You bracking fastard . . . " Starbuck cursed, his tongue feeling unnaturally thick in his mouth. A quick study revealed he'd been dumped in a filthy, rusted old ore cart. Already his legs were bent, the cart being compact and cramped. His fleeting thought of hurling himself at Dayton in reprisal disappeared as a wave of dizziness assaulted him. He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep, ragged breath. Lords, he'd need a prybar to get him out of this thing!

"Fingers!" Dayton repeated, his commanding voice hiding an underlying note of guilt. "C'mon, Hazelnut Amaretto.How many?"

"Your fingers are upside down!"

"Quit evading the question, Drip Grind."

"What the frack did you hit me with anyway? A landram?" Starbuck muttered, palpating a lump at the back of his skull. He pulled away his hand, sticky with blood. "Oh, great! Just what I needed!"

Dayton let out a harsh breath, pulling his hand back. "You fell and hit your head when I decked you." He managed to sound appropriately chagrined.

"Sometimes that happens when you sucker punch a guy," Starbuck grumbled, with a cautious glance around. He didn't see any other carts. They were alone. "Where are the others?"

"Ours is the last cart," Dayton replied with an uneasy shrug. "The others went on ahead." He pointed down the tunnel.

Starbuck lifted his eyebrows, staring dubiously up at the older man. "Where's Ama?"

Dayton frowned, glancing back over his shoulder. He looked back at Starbuck, leaning closer. "As if you didn't know." He raised a hand as Starbuck shifted. "Look, I promised Ama I'd keep you away from there. I gave her my word. If I have to clock you again, I will, kid."

"Dayton, you don't know what she's up against . . ." Starbuck started to argue, planting a foot and gripping the sides of the cart with the intent of getting himself out of there. He heaved himself upwards.

The Earthling grabbed him by the tunic, giving him a shake. "Damn it, kid, you're more stubborn than a coffee stain on my mother's best table cloth!"

Starbuck could feel the colour drain from his face as his head went supernova. He gripped Dayton's hands, but more to steady himself, than anything else, as he felt his astrum impact the bottom of the cart again. Closing his eyes tightly, he could feel the bile rise in the back of his throat. "Frack . . ." he groaned as his stomach convulsed traitorously while he dry heaved.

"Damn!" Dayton cursed, loosening his grip, and looking Starbuck over anxiously. "Just breathe." He paused, as Starbuck sucked in a breath between clenched teeth. "I think you have a concussion."

"Ya think?" Starbuck returned angrily, brushing the hair from his eyes as he glared at the Earthling.

"Better now?"

"Damn, Dayton! Anyone ever tell you that you have issues!"

Dayton grinned, chuckling lightly. "Scoot forward, Toffee Nut Latte. We have to catch up to the others, and I have no intention of sitting on your lap. You having the wrong DNA, and all."

"Oh, so I should sit on yours?" Starbuck returned sourly.

"Face it, you're more fragile, Juan Valdez." Dayton loomed over him, his hands on either side of the cart. "Besides, if you puke, I'd rather be behind you."

"If we're hurtling down a track, it probably won't matter where you are," Starbuck returned.

Dayton paused. "You have a point, but I'll take my chances. Besides, you weren't here when Prince Llewelyn was explaining how to manoeuvre this thing."

"You can manoeuvre a rust-encrusted mine cart?" Starbuck asked, glancing around the cart, and spotting two handles at the rear. They were grimy, rusted, and looked as if the last time they had been used, Kobol had still been a going concern. "How? With prayers?"

"One of those triggers the track to switch. The other is a brake." Dayton sighed. "I alone know which is which, and when to switch tracks. And hey, don't worry. It worked for Indiana Jones, so it'll work for us. So move it, Captain!"

Starbuck sighed, having no idea what an Indiana Jones was, and reluctant to find out. He shimmied forward slowly as the Earthman propelled himself into the cart. He grunted as Dayton's lean, muscular limbs enfolded him, and then shifted, trying to get comfortable. "Why couldn't I ride with Eirys, instead?" Starbuck groused.

"Believe me, I'd much rather ride with Cassiopeia, Espresso Truffle." Then he fidgeted before asking, "Ready?"

"Not really, but let's get it over with," Starbuck returned, gazing ahead into the impenetrable darkness. His head really wasn't going to like this, and his roiling stomach wouldn't be too crazy about it either.

A pull of a handle, and with a creaky bump, the cart rolled forward gaining both speed and momentum as they plunged into the inky depths of the mine.

----------

"Well?" Dorado asked Malus for the tenth time aboard the Endeavour, knowing that Cain would be within communications range any centon now. He rubbed at his eye socket, feeling a throbbing building there behind the prosthesis.

"I haven't found it yet, but I will," the IL replied, his lights flashing like a spastic Yule decoration in a high wind, as he continued to probe the Clavis' data logs. The whole assembly, Clavis and pedestal, was now in the Base Ship's main engineering section. Wires, probes, and cables surrounded it, constantly monitoring it, and tying it in to the ship's main systems. "However, according to the specs, if I am interpreting them correctly, I believe I have confirmed that the Clavis can actually transport the entire Endeavour to this alternate dimension for which we are searching. Her ability to move objects, if I am interpreting these records correctly, does not appear to be limited to small ships or merely Beings."

"The whole ship?" Dorado confirmed. "And its crew?"

"I believe so."

"Sagan, Mal, I need more than 'I believe so'," Dorado snapped impatiently. "We're talking about risking an entire battleship here! Do you know how many men and women are aboard?"

"Four hundred and ninety-three, to be precise. Twenty-three officers, eighty-five cadets, and . . ."

"That was rhetorical, Mal," Dorado sighed. The throb was getting worse.

"We must save Starbuck, Captain Dorado. I have calculated the odds, and it is my opinion that it would be an acceptable risk."

"This isn't a card game!"

"Life is a card game, Captain," Malus returned. "Full of risk, chance and speculation. The one thing I can tell you for sure, is that if you throw in your cards, you do not win." The IL looked from one human to another. "And you certainly do not get the girl."

"Did Starbuck teach you that?" Dorado snorted, caught somewhere between disbelief and the absurdity of the moment. A Cylon pontificating on relations between the sexes! And being right! Sagan's sandals, he could picture a endless queue of Starbuckian truisms being quoted at him for the rest of his career, or at least for as long as he worked with Malus.

"Yes, he did. He also taught me about allegiance to one's friends."

"Bucko wouldn't risk every man and woman's life on this ship to go after him, Mal," Dorado reminded him. "It would be different if I had some hard data that this Clavis thing works." He gestured at the humming sphere. "Hades hole, even moving it from the Espridian base could have altered or damaged it somehow. Then there's the fact that it hasn't even been used in over a hundred yahren." Yeah, he was having second thoughts. It was one thing to proceed courageously, and quite another to proceed rashly, accepting irrational risks.

"I believe I've found it, Captain Dorado," Malus looked up again. "The planet which we seek."

"Captain, I volunteer," Jolly suddenly spoke up from where he leaned silently against the hatch, watching.

"Jolly?"

"Sir, since Malus just found us a destination in that interdimensional atlas he's been looking through," the lieutenant motioned at the control system, "it makes sense to do a trial run. A test flight. Just to make sure a fighter could get there in one piece, and back again. Lia, Starbuck, Apollo, Luana . . . they're all like kin to me. I volunteer to take one of the Hybrids on a test run to give you the data you need."

"You'll need a co-pilot, Jolly," Baker inserted, stepping forward with his arms crossed decisively. "I'm your man."

Jolly grinned, holding out a hand to grip the Earthman's forearm. He glanced back at Dorado. "Well, sir?"

"As the Hybrid fighters are outfitted with three seats," Malus inserted, "I think it would be beneficial to attend this test flight, personally. That way I can properly analyse how both the pilots and machine withstand the exercise. I have already set the coordinates into the Clavis. Coxcoxtli can do the rest." He nodded at the young warrior.

"Alright," Dorado said briskly, after receiving a nod of confirmation from Coxcoxtli. "Jolly, assess the situation when you're there. Maybe we can get by with sending a shuttle to retrieve our team, instead of taking the Endeavour. Hopefully, they've already found Starbuck and are just waiting for a ride out of there. Get down to the launch bay and stand by. All three of you."

"Yes, sir!"

----------

Iblis stood stock-still, considering Ama. Startlingly, she couldn't tell what was going through his mind, which might have been a blessing. He only stared at her, as if weighing her words, and searching for the deception within them.

"You seem surprised," she offered, frowning as his lips settled into a thin line. She stroked her talisman, using the comforting gesture to calm her stretched nerves. She had been groomed for this moment all her life. Prepared to be her people's champion. Their leader, their advisor, their friend, their confidante, their spiritual warrior. But never had she thought it would come to this. Of course, it was only lately that she realized why her powers had blossomed so significantly, against all expectations, when she had left the relative seclusion of the Planet Empyrean.

It was then that those that the Colonials referred to as the Ship of Lights Beings began to guide her, counsel her, welcome her into their fold, where before they had only quietly observed. It was "John" who had let it slip, that the purported Lord of Darkness, Count Iblis, was her own father, banished from Empyrean for precipitating events centi-yahrens before that had led to the Thousand Yahren War between the Cylons and Humans. The solemn edict of not interfering with "less developed" races, but merely observing, had been broken by one who had little respect for the Elders' rules. Arion had strategically disappeared as his kind searched for him, seeking to punish him for his interference. They had ultimately found him on Empyrean, this time not only interfering, but brazenly manipulating yet another society. The name "Arion" was forever stricken from history, as they exiled him from their domain forevermore. From that moment on, he would be known as "Iblis, He That Causes Despair".

Now she had to wonder if it was accidental, or premeditated, that John had let her in on the two-centi-yahren-old secret. There was a niggling at the back of her mind that she couldn't ignore, making her wonder if perhaps she was the one being manipulated. Then again, John had warned her that Iblis could confound the most determined and convictional individual, but her instincts were telling her that something was amiss. She had expected a powerful showdown. A clash of cosmic forces. A battle to the death. Yet, here Count Iblis stood, simply regarding her, shaking his head in wonder . . . and sorrow. Yes, she felt that sorrow radiating off him as surely as she was his own daughter.

"Twice!" he muttered, looking at the ground.

"What?"

"Twice betrayed," he replied bitterly, turning his back on her in an angry swirl of robes.

"Twaddle!" she returned with more than a little anger in her own tone, motivated more by confusion than anything else. "Speak to me of this perceived betrayal, Arion, and I will tell you the truth."

He turned once more to regard her, and then spoke derisively. "What do you, a mere child, know of truth?"

She smiled at that. Ama? A child? Perhaps to a Being as old as Arion. "That it comes in many shapes and forms, some more palatable than others. Yet here," she tapped her chest, "in my heart and soul, I can distinguish it from lies." Then she crossed to stand before him, staring up into his penetrating eyes, so cold and emotionless. "Can you?"

----------

It was wild, exhilarating, and by far the craziest ride that Apollo had ever taken in his life. His hands clung to the sides of the ore cart, knuckles white, as the wind blew in his face from the rushing air. His stomach pitched, and his body careened from one side to the next as the creaking, rusted, piece of felgercarb followed its course through the mine. He couldn't help the whoop of shear joy and euphoria that slipped out as he saw the promise of light at the end of the tunnel.

Then his high spirits turned to horror as the ore cart raced through a cavern, revealing Cylon centurions approaching the tracks. They didn't seem as startled as he, pulling their weapons as he did, but aiming them too late, as his cart plunged through the two foolish enough to straddle the tracks. They flew aside with a crash and shower of sparks, and then the Viper pilot was past them, back to the relative safety of the next stretch of darkness. Sparks exploded behind him, doing Lords knew what damage to the tracks as they fired anyway. The Cylons had been expecting them, which didn't bode well for the last ore cart that would pass that way. He reached for his communicator, jerking it off his belt, even as the cart careened down a steep hill. He almost dropped the device, as he fell heavily to the right, almost wondering if the cart was about to loose traction, before it righted itself again. Finally, it began to slow, and the rest of his party came into view in the brightness of daylight. He could see Prince Llewelyn ahead of him helping Cassiopeia from their cart, as Apollo gripped the communicator again, activating it.

"Starbuck! Come in! Starbuck!" Apollo waited a few microns as he drew closer to the others, then remembered the last he'd seen of Starbuck, he'd been slumped over Dayton's shoulder unconscious, the victim of stubbornness meeting determination. "Dayton! Do you read me? It's Apollo! Commander, come in!"

"Not going to work, Apollo," Ryan told him, as the cart gently rolled past him. He shrugged as Apollo applied the brake, looking up at him enquiringly. "The interference from the raw minerals in this place is unbelievable." He held his own communicator in his hand, obviously having tried it already.

"Frack! How far back is it to where the Cylons were?" Apollo asked, glancing at Prince Glynn, then back into the tunnel. If they weren't there to help, Dayton and Starbuck would surely be taken. It was about the worst thing that could go wrong during an impending attack on the Cylon Base Ship.

Glynn frowned, and glanced at Ryan. "Straight uphill in the darkness, it would take far longer for us to backtrack, then it would for the Cylons to seize thy friends. And I be not certain that my Lord Ryan here would make it."

"I'm sure Lord Ryan wouldn't, Governor," Ryan murmured, cinching the ceremonial cloak he had found in the altar a little tighter around his hips, his hand passing gently over the bandage that covered his abdomen, as he stood slightly hunched over.

"Besides that, were our roles were reversed, I would send that cart on its way down here after capturing prisoners, simply to make sure that anyone coming back up the track for said reason was crushed." Llewelyn posed with a shrug. "Two prisoners are usually enough."

"Well, is there another way up there that's quicker?" Apollo returned, turning to crane his neck as a familiar sound drew his attention.

"No, Captain Apollo," Glynn replied, turning and hefting a Cylon sword that he had claimed as his own in the Holy Sanctum, as the sound of clapping boots approached.

Apollo pulled his weapon, noting absently that the charge was running down as he stood there waiting. He'd have to conserve his shots for the ones that really counted. A moment later, five Angylions raced into sight.

"Prince Glynn! Prince Llewelyn!" The first was a dark, long-haired warrior with a build like a landram. He slowed, upon seeing the princes, then dropped down on one knee, bowing his head briefly, before regaining his feet. An enormous sword hung sheathed at his side. "You cannot know how relieved we are to see thee both! It hath begun! We are arming our forces, and preparing to retake the city."

"Jac!" Glynn proclaimed, gripping the Angylion's arm. "As a diversion, I assume. Where be the rest of our forces?"

"Amassing in the shelter of the abandoned mine, awaiting upon thy orders, my liege." He paused, looking at the humans. "Mouric and Neiran were taken. Tortured. We found their remains . . ." The Angylion shuddered, touching his forehead with his fingers, before continuing. "I believe they informed the Cylons of the connection with the old mine tracks and the Holy Sanctum. We thought thou wouldst be taken."

"All but two of us made it out, Jac," Llewelyn told him. "We are uncertain of their fate."

"Eirys?" Glynn turned to the sorceress. "Anything?"

Her eyes were closed, and she looked serene as she inclined her head towards the sky. "General Caradoc and Commander Baltar have captured a Cylon ship. They will meet us at the mine."

"What the fra . . ." Apollo gaped. "How can you know that?"

"I know," Eirys returned enigmatically. "Would your own White Witch not perceive such things?"

"I . . . uh . . ." Apollo shrugged slightly, realizing that not only did these Beings have a far more sophisticated level of communication that the Humans did, but that he'd never really discussed exactly how Ama knew if Starbuck was alive or dead, dismissing it as primitive, backwards mumbo jumbo, rather than an advanced method of gathering information, outside the usual methods of science.

Ryan stepped forward. "Can you . . . communicate at all with our warriors who went after Baltar? Or sense if they're okay?"

"They are with Caradoc and Baltar, and all are yet safe," Eirys nodded. "Or so the general has informed me. I do not sense your people, as I do mine." She frowned slightly. "Which of course means, I cannot tell you if Starbuck and Commander Dayton still live, or if they will succumb to the fate of Mouric and Neiran."

Apollo nodded. "I understand." So all that was left was to rendezvous with Baltar and the Angylion general, and to come up with a plan that would not only include destroying the Base Ship before it could launch, and liberating Morlais, but somehow finding Starbuck and Dayton. It was going to be a long day.

----------

"Commander-Mendax, Flight-Leader-Subventus, by-your-command" said a centurion.

"Speak, Centurion," replied Mendax, dividing his time between perusing the various reports from his underlings, and gazing up at the vast bulk of the mountain.

"The-engineers-report-that-all-auxilliary-power-units-have-been-reinstalled-and-are-ready-to-be-reinitialised."

"Excellent."

"Main-reactor-one-is-also-ready-to-be-reinitialised."

"Also excellent, Centurion. Tell the engineers to proceed." The patrol that Plectus had led to the Angylion Holy Sanctum had not reported in, and inexplicably the race of Odreds had been transformed back into their original species. There had been sporadic uprisings in Morlais, most of them easily defeated by the superiority of Cylon weaponry. After all, the creatures were unorganised and lacked leadership. Now Mendax had only to hear if the information acquired though the interrogation of two Odreds had been productive, as he awaited news of the possible capture of a group of conspiring Angylions by yet another patrol. Possibly, it wouldn't matter If all went to plan, they would be in orbit over this despicable planet, and eradicating the entire population with their mega-pulsars by nightfall. Then they could go forth, and begin conquering the rest of this star system, carrying out their duty to the Empire.

"By-your-command."

----------

"Captain Dorado, Commander Cain coming in on the communicator. Fleet Commline Alpha."

"Stand by," Dorado nodded. He wasn't looking forward to having a strip torn off him by his former commanding officer, but he'd survived much worse in his career. Cain wouldn't be pleased when he found out that Dorado did . . . what he was about to do. He glanced back at Coxcoxtli, manning the Clavis' control system. "Are you ready?"

The computer expert's eyes flickered over the controls briefly. "Yes, sir."

"Alright." Then Dorado paused, sniffing in sudden misplaced amusement as he glanced at the bright faced youngsters around him. "What exactly are you supposed to say to send your men from one dimension to another?"

They all looked back at him way too seriously, making him wish someone from his own vintage was in the Control Centre.

Then Porter, from a slightly older vintage, snickered from behind. "You say, 'energize', Captain."

"Commander Cain is still standing by, sir," Pierus reminded him.

"I'm aware of that, Pierus," Dorado replied, then nodded. He jabbed a finger into the air for good measure. "Energize, Coxcoxtli."

"Sir," he responded, hitting a series of controls that would send the Hybrid fighter into the unknown, far beyond their suddenly crude scanners. Lights went green, all across the board.

Dorado moved to the comm. "Commander Cain . . ."

"Catch you in the turbo flush, Captain?" Cain demanded with a frown. "Where's Commander Dayton?"

"Off the ship at present, Commander. He personally led the landing party to recover Captain Starbuck, sir."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Cain muttered, abruptly glancing over his shoulder distractedly. "Who let that damn daggit onto the Bridge? Sheba!" He shook his head, and then looked back. "Where's Colonel Apollo?"

"He was assigned to the team, as well, sir."

"Leaving you in command?" Cain asked.

"Yes, sir," Dorado nodded to his former CO. From the tone of his voice, it was plain that Cain had about as much confidence in Dorado's command abilities as he did in one of Starbuck's vaunted 'systems'. "I am at present."

Cain nodded grimly. "Then you can tell me, what in Hades Hole did we just pick up on our sensors coming from the Endeavour? It lit up the panel like a cheap chancery!"

"We recovered a device on a nearby planet that we believe can transport a ship interdimensionally," Dorado explained. "To the dimension that Commander Dayton and Colonel Apollo are already in. Sir."

"And how did they get there?"

"Councilwoman Ama was able to transport them there, sir."

"By all the Lords, how?" Clearly, Cain wasn't liking the way this conversation was going.

"I don't really know, Commander. The scientific explanation was a bit . . . lacking."

Cain blinked, pausing a long moment. "And?"

"That energy wavelon you detected was our first manned test of the device."

Cain raised his eyebrows. "Which you launched just before we came into range, knowing the Pegasus was on the way?"

"You always taught me not to waste time vacillating, Commander," Dorado replied. "Especially when there are lives at stake."

"Did I?" Cain countered.

"Yes, sir. At the very first debriefing you conducted, following my assignment to the Pegasus, and my first mission as a cadet, along with my trainee squadron."

"Well," said Cain, slowly raising an eyebrow, and twirling his stick. Clearly this had been too much information. "Then, perhaps, you can succinctly tell me which landing bay to land in when I come over there to strip and module you."

"Beta Bay, Commander."

"Cain out."

"Ouch,"whispered Coxcoxtli.

Dorado looked at him and smiled. "Don't worry, he grows on you."

----------

Normally, riding something like this mine cart would be fun. Instead, Starbuck's head was throbbing, his stomach was reeling, and he had come close to passing out cold on a couple occasions when he was sure that the cart had lost contact with the track before plunging around a corner, or over a sharp declivity. He willed himself to keep his eyes open and his stomach muscles clenched, so he wouldn't disgrace himself by vomiting all over himself and his commanding officer.

Then again, Dayton certainly deserved to be wearing his stomach contents after knocking him out cold. To add to Starbuck's annoyance, the commander seemed to be enjoying this, whooping in exhilaration at the same hairpin turns that made Starbuck want to die. The Earthling didn't seem to have the same code of conduct that would prevent Commander Adama, Colonel Tigh, or even Apollo from bashing a subordinate officer. However, it could just be Dayton. Starbuck couldn't imagine Ryan or the others doing the same. No, there was a mean streak that ran through Dayton that made him unpredictable and dangerous. Thirty yahrens digging asteroid fungus could do that to a guy, he supposed.

It was a damn good thing they were on the same side.

A glimpse of light ahead of them gave Starbuck some hope that this raging ride was about to end. Not much further . . . he promised himself. Then he would have Eirys wrap her enchanting arms around him, to give him some relief. Not that he was sure she had Ama's ability to seemingly erase misery when the mood struck her, but Starbuck was certainly willing to give it the old Academy try.

"Almost there, Peely Wally!" Dayton hollered in his ear, past the rushing wind.

Then a sudden explosion ahead of them threw up a cloud of dust that obliterated their view. Starbuck barely had time to brace himself before the cart tore free of its tracks, careening on an unknown course, and then slammed into a barrier, pitching them through the air.

The last thing he heard as darkness descended over a haze of pain, was a familiar, but terrifying drone that could only be Cylon.