Chapter Twenty-Two
"Holy . . .what in Hades hole just happened?" Apollo gasped as he stared at the empty spot where Starbuck and Llewelyn had just been standing. The plan was that they were all going to use the Oculus to find Ama and face down Count Iblis together, but then with a touch of Starbuck's hand on his Doublewalker, everything had changed.
"Where did they go?" Luana exclaimed, a note of desperation in her tone. She whirled on her sister who looked back at her blankly, and then glanced down at Ama's talisman in complete astonishment as though weighing whether the mystical piece had anything to do with the situation.
"Triquetra's Truss . . ." Lia murmured.
"Eirys?" Mouric asked.
The Angylion sorceress looked stunned, as she stood there holding the Oculus in wonder. "I didn't do anything . . ." She brushed back her flowing flaxen hair distractedly, before silently adding, at least not knowingly! "I didn't know that could happen . . . I'm not certain what did happen . . ."
"They disappeared," Mouric told her helpfully.
"I know that, Mouric!" she snapped in exasperation. "But when they touched before in the Holy Sanctum . . ." she shook her head, searching for answers.
"Llewelyn came back from the dead. As did Glynn," Apollo finished for her.
"Energy moving across realms . . ." Eirys mused, lifting the Oculus into the air and studying it. "Giving life . . . shifting realities . . ." She swallowed convulsively. "Have you touched Glynn since then, Apollo?"
"Uh . . . well . . .no," he replied, and then shrugged. Meeting a man that not only looked like him, but was also extremely similar in character was a little unsettling, especially knowing he'd been lying "clinically dead" in a chamber for ten yahrens. Apollo was a demonstrative man, but even so, he felt more of discomfiture with Glynn than an inclination towards touching him. "At least not that I can recall."
"So you're saying that just the two of them touching . . ." Sheba began, then frowned, shaking her head. "I don't understand. How is that possible?"
"None of this falls within our standard definition of 'possible', Sheba", Apollo replied.
"Two kindred spirits uniting, disturbing the Infinite, transcending time and space . . ." Eirys contemplated.
"But where did they go?" Luana asked.
"And was it under their own power . . . or did Count Iblis take them there?" Sheba added gravely. She felt a cold chill, as an image of the evil Count's face just as he struck down Apollo flitted across her memory.
"I think we need a little help," Apollo ventured, looking around. "John, if you're here, I think it's time you let us know what's going on."
Sheba nodded her agreement, standing beside him.
A micron later, John materialized before them. A glance at the others revealed blinding white clothes that meant the celestial Being was permitting them to see him. He nodded politely at them, but was frowning.
"John?" asked Apollo.
"Very well," sighed the ethereal Being. "It's like this . . ."
---------
"Here they come!" Jolly winced at the wall of Cylon Raiders coming at them. The commander was right, they had to be outnumbered by at least two to one, which just wasn't fair. However, when it came to the Cylons, it was typical. He glanced at his scanner.
"There's so many of them, Lieutenant!" one cadet cried tremulously.
"Makes hitting them even easier, Acastus," Giles spoke up. "Right, Jolly?"
"Right, Giles. Wingmen, stick tight to your leaders. And remember, this particular group of Cylon pilots have been planetside for ten yahrens and they're a little . . . rusty." He smiled at the nervous titter of laughter over the comm. "Also, their scanning and avionic systems are close to a century out of date, compared to ours. Our ships have the latest in electronic counter measures. Make the most of it."
"Understood, sir," replied Acastus.
"Jolly, Baltar's report was correct. Three Raiders are veering off towards Morlais," Dietra suddenly inserted. "Permission to pursue?"
"Granted, Lieutenant. They're all yours."
"Isador?" Dietra called.
"On your wing, Lieutenant," he replied.
"Alright, Cadets, let's go."
---------
"Commander, coming about," Dorado told him, as they corrected course once again, this time veering back towards the Abaddon Base Ship. "Matching speed with enemy vessel."
"As soon as we're in range, lock on forward ph . . ." Dayton gave his head a shake as he realized he'd been about to say photons. There'd been way too many Star Trek influences lately. "Lock on forward lasers!"
The planned Cylon Raider suicide runs had failed utterly, not even getting near the Endeavour as Dayton had the Covert Operations Ship engage her engines and move out of range, too rapidly and erratically for the small fighter craft to follow. Phoenix and Sphinx Squadrons were engaging in combat with the Cylon forces, while a small patrol pursued the planet-bound Raiders down to Morlais.
"If Lieutenant Dietra doesn't reach those Raiders in time, they will destroy the Holy Sanctum on Mount Cadoc and what remains of the Angylions," Baltar inserted, stepping forward abruptly, as though he had made a sudden decision.
"I'm aware of that, Baltar," Dayton returned, not even looking at the former traitor as his eyes followed the progression of the fighters on the scanner. Starbuck, Lia, Luana, Ama . . . maybe Ryan, Cassiopeia, Apollo and Sheba too. He had no intention of letting that happen. "What will be their first target? Your military assessment, quickly! The Angylions on the battlefield, or our people on Mt. Cadoc?"
"Our people at the Holy Sanctum," Baltar replied, not missing Dayton's appraising stare. Having fought for his life alongside the others, as far as he was concerned he'd earned the right to include himself as one of them. At least in this dimension. Dayton could go straight to Hades Hole if he thought otherwise. "The Angylions aren't going anywhere, and Mendax will follow out the Edict of Extermination to the best of his ability, especially after we made a fool of him in front of his crew. Unless, of course, they split up. One Raider heading for Mt. Cadoc, and the other two for the battlefield. The Raiders not only have a considerable lead on our fighters, but they're lighter."
"Low on tylium," Dayton nodded, immediately following the former Cylon commander's reasoning. "They probably have just enough to complete their mission and no more. A one-way mission." He glanced at the IL who quietly nodded his agreement. It was the first time in Dayton's life he'd gone to a traitor and a high-end robot for tactical analysis.
"Yes, Mendax admitted his tylium stores were close to depleted. However, if our fighters dump fuel . . ." Baltar offered, raising his eyebrows as he let Dayton consider it.
"With our modified engines, we'll be more likely to catch up to them before they penetrate the atmosphere," Dayton nodded, watching a Cylon blip disappear from the main battle, and a few seconds later, two Hybrid fighters lose their identity beacons. He internally groaned, realizing he'd just lost two cadets in the blink of an eye. Agon and Lule. Good kids with such potential . . . Then his guts twisted as he realized the possible connotation. "What are the chances that the Cylons packed those ships with explosives?"
"Exceptionally high. It doesn't take much solenite to blow the top off of a mountain, Commander Dayton," Baltar replied. Privately, he recalled the Cylons losing the Ravishol pulsar, and the top blowing off Mount Hecla on Arcta.
"Or to take out two of our fighters with every one of theirs," Dayton nodded, and then looked to Dorado. "Tell Dietra to dump half her fuel and haul ass for those Raiders. Make sure Phoenix and Sphinx spread out. I have a feeling every Cylon fighter out there is packed to the gills with solenite."
"Yes, sir," Dorado replied. "Coming into range. Forward lasers are locked onto the Harbinger, Commander. "
"Give me a firing solution for the Harbinger,"said Dayton. He watched as the ship's computer crunched the numbers, giving results for both laser batteries and missiles.
"Firing solution ready and on the board," said Dorado. "All lasers report ready, missiles on standby."
"Excellent. Lasers first. I'm saving the missiles for a special occasion. And give me a countdown, too, Captain. Us old astronauts are fond of them," Dayton quipped, his eyes narrowing as he lost any desire he initially had for toying with the enemy, like a cat would a mouse. He wanted these scumbags gone. Blown out of existence.
"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one . . ."
"Fire!" Dayton ordered.
---------
Eternal darkness. A foul mustiness. A deadly, bitter cold. An undeniable force that he couldn't explain, much less understand, it loomed ominously and seemingly omnipresent. Starbuck couldn't help the involuntary shiver that suddenly took control of him, lying on the unforgiving ground, as he tried to catch his breath and calm his rising panic. Dread seeped into him, infiltrating his defences as it tormented his mind. The only other sound he could clearly make out was equally laboured breathing coming from about a metron away; he could only assume it was Llewelyn's.
Much like in his dream he had been pulled forcibly into some kind of vortex, only this time his Doublewalker was with him. All he had done was touch Llewelyn, and it had acted as some kind of catalyst, a key in a lock, propelling them through the same portal that he had been about to take with Lia and Luana when John had intervened. It had been one Hades of a ride, tumbling endlessly over and over, unable to breathe, as his mind rebelled at the idea that this could really be happening. Apparently, he was about to find out what John was trying to prevent.
"Starbuck?" the nearby voice, identical to his own, called out tentatively.
"Yeah," he replied, pushing his upper body up from the ground, yet pausing to curl his fingers around the solidness of the dirt. It felt like gritty crystals, and he let it filter through his fingers, the texture feeling somehow comforting. As far as he could tell, there wasn't the tiniest sign of life or light dwelling here. It scared the mong out of him. All around him was nothingness. A black abyss that seemed to stretch on forever. It was as though they were perched on the top of some unknown world, and if they took a step off, they would plunge straight to Hades Hole . . .
Where it would probably be a whole lot warmer, Bucko.
"What is this place thou hast brought me to?" Llewelyn asked, his voice sounding small and childlike, swallowed up by the void. "All I did was unwittingly ask thy wife her name. Surely if I offended thee, swords at dawn would have been more befitting the infraction." His tone was light, his diction formal and more characteristic of his older brother, but there was an underlying nervousness that betrayed his bravado. Starbuck recognized it only too well.
He sniffed aloud at the mere idea that he had anything to do with this. "Did you bring your sword?" Starbuck replied with a fleeting smile, slowly climbing to his feet as he touched the hilt of his own blade. Every sense was alive as he listened, watched, and waited for something to leap out of the dark at them. Cautiously, he slung his pack off his back, and then reached inside, optimistically groping around for another illuminator. He'd dropped his somewhere along the way to this place of torment.
"I did, although dawn appears to be a long way off, and it mightn't bode well to take the life of one's own Doublewalker," Llewelyn mused, also regaining his feet.
"Assuming you could," Starbuck countered.
Llewelyn laughed briefly, the harsh sound echoing in the darkness. "I am the ablest blade in all of Morlais, Doublewalker."
"And I have a Colonial laser, pal."
A long moment passed before Llewelyn scoffed, "Such a weapon takes the honour from fighting."
"Yeah? Well, if you'd been armed with lasers instead of swords, Morlais might not have spent the last deca-yahren under Cylon rule."
"Perhaps, a salient point," Llewelyn conceded.
Silence fell between them, as eyes and ears strained for some clue as to where they were, while Starbuck continued to rifle through his pack. Then a tiny spark of light turned into a flame, and Llewelyn moved closer to him, holding a burning match.
"You smoke?" Starbuck asked, taking advantage of the gentle glow. He shouldn't have been surprised. The Cylons had confiscated his own Flintex.
"Am I not civilized?" Llewelyn countered.
Starbuck grinned. "I like your style . . . or at least I did until you started hitting on my wife." His hand curled around another illuminator and he pulled it out, turning it on and shining the light ahead of them. His chest hitched as the mighty beam flowed out into the vast darkness, revealing no more than they could see now. All around them, barrenness. A bleak, vacuous wasteland as far as the eye could see. Not a sign of Ama. Dread began to seep into his bones as Llewelyn gasped in horror beside him. He glanced at the Angylion. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but . . . what?"
"The Nonentity," Llewelyn whispered beside him. "It has to be . . ."
"Aptly named," Starbuck returned, even as the familiar taste of fear tingled on his tongue. "But, what exactly is the Nonentity?"
"It is the domain of the Mystics. It is said that mortals will wither and die here."
"Probably from hypothermia, if not starvation." Starbuck murmured, turning in a circle and shining the light all around them. "Not very inviting. If I were a Mystic, I'd probably go for something a bit more comfortable. With light and heating. A nice view. Ambrosa. Mushies. Female companionship . . ."
"Do not speak so impiously, Starbuck," Llewelyn cautioned him.
"Or what? We'll get sent to the Nonentity?" he drawled in return.
The other was silent for a moment. "I confess I have forgotten much of what I learned over the years, most of it by choice, but legend says that a man who does not obey Mystic Law will be banished here for all of eternity."
Starbuck winced. "You're not going to start confessing your sins to me, are you, Llewelyn? Ten to one, I can match them, and probably raise you a deca-yahren of indiscretions that would either make you blush, or give you some good ideas for the future."
"Be this our day of reckoning?" the young prince asked.
"Here?" Starbuck returned. "No way, pal. Our culture prefers the comparatively balmy climate of Hades hole for eternal damnation." Then he paused, not liking the direction this discussion was taking. For most of his adult life, he'd managed to avoid such philosophical ruminations, preferring to live life, rather than waste any part of it thinking about death. After all, if there was any actual thinking to do during death, he'd have plenty of time for that then. "We're here to find Ama. That's it."
"How do we find her?" Llewelyn asked. "I see no sign of her."
"I was kind of hoping that if she was engineering all this, that she would bring us to her," Starbuck admitted. That was the way it had happened in the dream.
"And if she isn't?"
Eirys couldn't have done this, since if she did she would be standing there beside them with the Oculus. There was really only one other possible explanation. Iblis. "Then we could be in trouble."
---------
The Harrower's lasers screamed across the vast expanse between the capital ships, slamming into the Harbinger, leaving her shuddering like a tortured beast in its death throes. Lights faded and died along with every control panel and display screen, as Dayton's salvos struck home, smoke belching into the Control Centre. Warning lights flashed and alarms blared. For a moment, Mendax thought the fusion reactors had been breached, and it would only be another micron before his ship exploded into stardust. Then the lights surged to life once again as auxiliary power kicked in.
"All laser banks lock on! Return fire!" Mendax ordered, as his crew responded. Their attack computer had miscalculated, and he realized it was likely due to Malus' tampering with his centralized computer systems. He'd been sabotaged. Again. With a glance at the scanner he could see the enemy fighters slowly closing the gap on his solenite-filled Raiders that were bound for the planet. A quick calculation told him that they'd never break through the ionosphere. The Colonials had easily overcome his strategy, as though they knew what he had planned.
He decided it must be Malus' fault, as the ship rocked again from a direct hit. No mere . . . human could have outthought him thus! He was a Cylon!
The outcome was inevitable if he carried out this battle in a traditional tact, considering the state of his ship as compared to Malus'. The Harrower would destroy him with little trouble. He needed to try something a little different. He needed a diversion. He was going to make every effort to make a lasting impression on these filthy, rancid humanoids, fulfilling his duty both to the Cylon race, and the Imperious Leader. "Prepare to fire a missile!"
"By-your-command."
He'd give Malus and the Colonials something to occupy them. If he knew anything about human nature, they'd break off their attack on the Harbinger to try and save their own kind. It was a well-known weakness, and one that he could exploit in this instance. "Target acquisition: Mt. Cadoc. The blast radius will incinerate every life form within a kilometron of ground zero, taking what's left of those Angylion vermin with them."
"By-your-command."
"Fire missile!"
---------
Apollo shook his head in wonder, truly amazed that a piece of Kobolian history had been utterly lost up until now. From what John had said, the Oculus had first appeared sometime before the reign of the first Lord of Kobol, facilitating their motherworld moving from primitive backwardness—the so-called "Age of Darkness"—to the early and curiously rapid dawning of a unified Kobolian civilization. Mud huts and small villages in river valleys had blossomed seemingly overnight into a rich, sophisticated urban culture, with science and the arts making enormous leaps in an historically brief period. It had been passed down from lord to lord, nurturing and ensuring the development of their race. Kobol had flourished, becoming a rich planet, vast in resources, with a peaceable and thriving intellectual culture.
"It was Kobolian in origin?" Sheba clarified. "The Oculus?"
"Uh . . . no," John admitted. "Before I delivered the Oculus to Kobol, the planet was in a period of societal chaos. They were typically human, the early Kobolians. Tribes were warring; famine and pestilence were wiping out whole populations. Wanton cruelty, bloodshed and blasphemy were the order of the day. He glanced upward fleetingly. "Our Elders knew that one man on Kobol had the ability, indeed the moral vision, to set his people on the right path, with a little help . . . Salpeter became the first Lord of Kobol."
"We were told the Oculus came from the Nonentity," Eirys nodded. "That its powers were limitless."
"If one knows how to use them," John nodded thoughtfully at the sorceress who had effectively summoned Iblis to Morlais by using the Oculus. "Its abilities can indeed seem boundless." He chose not to challenge her people's perception of what the Nonentity was and who dwelled there. "The Oculus can be the bearer of light or darkness, goodness or evil. It all depends on who commands it."
"Did Count Iblis once command it?" Apollo asked, a coldness gripping him. It was starting to fall into place.
"He did for a short time before the flowering of Kobol," John nodded. "A bit of a challenging case, the Elders decided to make him the Keeper of the Oculus. But unlike any of us who came before him, instead of being inspired by its power, humbled by the honour and glorying in its magnificence, Iblis was filled with pride, and in time was seduced by it. Rather than using the Oculus to help the weak and the primitive develop, to succour the ignorant and the suffering, he instead claimed it as his own, to use for his selfish intentions, satiating his endless greed and lust. The Elders quickly realized their mistake. We found Iblis and recovered it, but not before he had a taste of its power."
"And then you sent it to Kobol?" Apollo asked.
John smiled slightly. "It was decided that it would be safer there. From the dawn of our order, it had been in our own realm. What safer place for it, it was decided, but with a race of primitive humans? One as prideful, pitiless, and self-consumed as Iblis would never think of such a treasure being entrusted to mere mortals. It was long before he even suspected the truth, that it was held by a race destined to be among those who would be guided on a path towards divinity."
"Amongst?" Mouric asked. "Who else was on this path?"
"The Angylions. The Espridians, certainly," John replied. "Others that you have not come across."
"Espridians?" Mouric murmured in confusion.
"A race of Beings that strove towards a global consciousness through spiritual enlightenment. They ascended ever-greater steps towards peace and beauty. They were destroyed by the Cylons." John nodded at Apollo. "That is where the device used to transport the Endeavour to Morlais came from. Your resident Cylon, Malus, will be able to elaborate on their culture. Their annihilation was a grave loss."
Apollo nodded. Dorado had briefed him on the Espridian civilization. The Cylons had been quite thorough.
"Then the Espridians had a device similar to the Kobolians that supported the evolution of their society?" Sheba asked. "Also from you?"
"Very astute, Sheba," John commented. "But actually, no. The Clavis was developed through Espridian science and technology, and its exclusive use is for the physical exploration of the universe. The ability to traverse time and space isn't something we'd share lightly, and at one time was an ability solely attributed to my kind. After all, everything in the universe was designed to be, and must remain, in balance with everything else. Unintentional interference could be disastrous."
"But you allowed it?" Apollo asked.
"We could not interfere, but admittedly, the Espridians merely observed and recorded what they saw. They had an instinctive responsibility for how they used the Clavis, and didn't abuse that privilege." John sighed. "So, it was decided to let them be."
"And now we have it," Sheba murmured, glancing at Apollo in concern.
"Admittedly, for a time, we had all thought it destroyed when the Cylons annihilated the Espridians," John admitted.
"Then we weren't meant to get it?" Apollo asked.
John paused, considering how best to answer. "I believe it is meant to correct an imbalance far, far away that Count Iblis has effected. That is all I can say for now."
"Suitably nebulous," Apollo frowned. "At least you're consistent."
"Why, thank you," John smiled.
"How did the Oculus get from Kobol to Morlais?" Luana asked. "You said that you had brought it here."
"During the reign of the ninth Lord of Kobol, the Oculus was stolen."
"By Iblis?" Apollo asked.
"No, for even he cannot take it unless it is bestowed freely by its Keeper. Its power would be nugatory."
"Then how . . .?"
"As he has so often throughout history. Lies. By lies, seductive blandishments, and false rewards, he manipulated another to do it for him. Humans, sadly, are not so limited by our laws. That diabolical action alone sealed the fate of Kobol, although it had been portended by prophets for yahrens and then verified by science. Kobol's star was dying. It is said that Iblis poisoned the sun, thus hastening its end. The Prophet, Daton, of Lord Sagan's own court announced it was the beginning of the end. Planning began to mobilize the thirteen tribes, looking for other planets to settle as Kobol began to whither and die."
"Daton?" Sheba interjected with a gasp of surprise. "You mean . . ."
---------
"Commander, enemy Base Ship locking onto target," reported Dorado, his eyes fixed on the control screen.
Baltar smiled in satisfaction, nodding. "Oh, to see his reaction . . . He'll be blowing power cells after we subverted his plan."
"Holy frack!" Dorado interrupted. "It's planetary . . . it's . . . Mt. Cadoc."
"What?" Dayton cried in disbelief. Mendax was supposed to come after him. "Jam all scanner frequencies! Full ECM, now."
"Sir."
"Malus!" Dayton ordered, looking from the human officer to the IL. They only had one chance, and at this range, it might not work. "Plug in!"
"I prefer to think of it as 'interfacing', Commander Dayton," replied the cybernetic Being.
"Do it, Halogen Head!"
"Of course, Commander . . . since you asked so nicely."
"Harbinger firing her missile!" reported Dorado. On the screen, they could see the weapon tear away from the enemy vessel towards Morlais.
"Okay, Mal," said Dayton. "Now."
"By your command," replied the Cylon.
----------
"Nice shooting, Felic," Dietra told her co-pilot as the second Raider bound for Morlais exploded just short of the ionosphere, taking the third one out in a fireball that flashed briefly, but spectacularly.
"Was that the solenite we were warned about?" Isador asked over the comm.
"That's right," Dee replied, activating her rear scanner as a proximity alert sounded. "They were too close to each other . . . holy frack! Break right, Isador! Now!"
As the other Hybrid followed orders, she banked to the left, her stomach tying itself into knots as a missile passed them by on the way to Morlais.
"What do we do, Lieutenant?" Felic asked, his eyes on the scanner.
"Track it," replied Dietra. "And pray."
----------
"Not much gets past you, does it, Sheba." John smiled slightly. "Commander Mark Dayton is a descendent of the Thirteenth Tribe of Kobol." He paused as the Colonials gasped in disbelief. "His ancestor, Daton, was not only a learned man in Lord Sagan's court—in fact one of the greatest minds that world ever produced—but also an explorer and adventurer. He alone realized the extent of the Oculus' powers and vowed to recover it. He alone understood the significance of the danger, and that the balance of the universe was precariously pitched towards darkness. It is tragic that this part of Kobolian history has been forgotten, as it would have undoubtedly become one of the universe's great epics."
"He went after Iblis?" Apollo asked.
"Oh, he would have had it been necessary. But Daton managed to recover the Oculus, and hide it, before it fell back into Iblis' hands. By the time the thirteen tribes had begun the evacuation of Kobol, Daton realized he had to get the Oculus far from Iblis. Once they entered the void, he used the Oculus to transport the Thirteenth Tribe to Earth. He became the self-appointed Keeper of the Oculus, as you are now, Eirys."
"How would he have even known about Earth?" Luana asked sceptically. "It's so much further from Kobol than any other of the Colonies."
"Well, we might have had something to do with it . . ." John replied elusively. "The Oculus was safely hidden there for several generations before Iblis discovered Earth, and began tracing Daton's descendents. He pursued them mercilessly, and contrived to embroil the people in endless wars and divisions, in revenge. We knew it would only be a matter of time . . . so with the balance of the universe at stake, we intervened once again. We took the Oculus to another dimension entirely, leaving it under the watchful eye of the Angylions. Admittedly, we created a few guidelines that we hoped would eradicate the possibility of the Oculus being used as anything but a symbolic talisman. However, when its powers were used to explore the Infinite, it swiftly alerted Iblis to its existence in Morlais. Still, unless it was surrendered to him willingly, he couldn't just take it from them. Instead, he transformed a race of Angylions to Odreds, waiting for them to lose faith, and at last to submit, and to do his bidding. He has waited ten yahrens for people to lose heart, under the cybernetic Cylons, and a sequence of events to align themselves that would provide him with this opportunity. Instead, Eirys' courage and intervention has renewed her peoples' faith, tipping the balance once more in our favour. But . . ."
"But?" Apollo asked.
"But now Starbuck, Llewelyn and Ama are all within his dominion. And he will surely barter their lives in order to recover the Oculus, using its powers to give him absolute omnipotence, beyond even our influence," John told them soberly. "The entire ethereal realm will be plunged into unthinkable darkness."
"You . . . you want us to sacrifice their lives . . ." Luana realized in horror.
"Their souls?" Eirys added breathlessly.
The mountain shook as a thunderous crash reverberated through the air, and an unnatural light flooded the cavern.
"I'll return Starbuck and Llewelyn relatively unscathed in return for the Oculus now," Iblis suddenly announced from behind the small group, his hands held up as though summoning the forces of nature.
Instinctively, they pulled their weapons in self-defence, lasers and swords alike. Iblis laughed mockingly. "Those primitive weapons are useless against me."
"However, the Oculus . . ." Eirys countered, holding it reverently before her. "The Oculus holds a power so infinite, it can destroy you, Iblis."
"However, only one person in the universe can wield that power against me now," Iblis smiled triumphantly, looking at John. "My own blood. And she is now far from reach, and under my dominion. You have lost, John." He turned to gloat at his imminent victory. "Your own rules dictating that you don't intervene have decided the contest. You have left it too late. How delightfully ironic."
"You do not command the Oculus yet, Iblis," John countered.
"What does he mean by his spawn?" Luana asked, her voice wavering.
Iblis smiled in satisfaction. "Were you not aware? Ama is my daughter. Before I was jealously cast out by my own kind, I was Arion. The woman that you have placed on your ridiculous Council of Twelve is the very spawn of Diabolis."
"Liar!" Luana spat, throwing herself at the evil Being, like a feral felix about to scratch his eyes out. Apollo leapt forward, intercepting her, well aware that such an attack could result in her death. "Let me go!" she shrieked at him.
"You had no right to take Starbuck and Llewelyn," John admonished Iblis. "You know that full well!"
"Then it was you . . ." Apollo exclaimed, fighting to control the young woman. Sheba rushed to his side to help, as Lia stood by numbly in disbelief.
"Starbuck had planned to enter my dominion anyway when John intercepted their cozy little triune. He was as good as mine. The sudden energy created by two twin spirits colliding, merely expedited their journey to my realm. I managed to get a 'two for one' deal, if you will," Iblis replied with a despicable smile. He trained his intimidating gaze on Eirys once again. "Decide, mortal. Hand over the Oculus now, or immolate your prince and his Doublewalker. Forevermore."
Eirys looked between John and Iblis, shaking her head from side to side as she deliberated. The possibility of sacrificing her beloved prince was too painful to contemplate.
"If Starbuck had his say, he'd never agree! Especially knowing what's at stake! I'm willing to bet that any Doublewalker of his would feel the same way!" spat Sheba, willing Eirys to realize the same.
"Indeed?" said the Evil One, his eyes momentarily flashing with anger. "Shall we test that, Sheba? A contest? If Starbuck pleads for his life, then you concede the Oculus?"
"I . . ."
"So be it," smiled Iblis. "Let the contest begin."
----------
"Did it work? Report!" Dayton demanded, every muscle in his body taut with tension as he traced the progress of the missiles to the surface of the planet. There was a brief moment of hesitation on Malus' part that made the Earthman want to send the IL for a refit, and turn him into a vending machine. He whirled on the Cylon, snarling, "Well?"
"Unfortunately, I won't know until impact," Malus replied dispassionately, still interfaced with their systems.
"That's not good enough!" Dayton snapped, his concern flaring into rage as an entire race of humanoids, as well as Colonials that had become like family to him, were poised for extinction. Relatively, the Cylon artillery would make Hiroshima and Nagasaki look like popped pimples on the face of humanity. He changed tact, hoping that he could inspire just a little bit more from the Cylon. "Starbuck is down there, Mal. Your golden boy."
"I realize that, Commander." The IL bowed his head slightly, before looking back at the Earthman. "I would throw myself in front of that missile, if it were at all possible, to prevent anything happening to Starbuck. But from here, there is nothing more that we can do."
"Time to impact?" Dayton asked Dorado.
"Five microns, Commander."
This time the thought of a countdown made him want to puke. The seconds clicked by mentally as he held his breath. Five, four, three, two, one . . .