Battlestar Galactica 10 - The Long Patrol Page 9

  "What is it?" asked Robber.

  "Reliable sources, namely my trusty computer Cora, inform me that there are more Cylons on the way," said Starbuck.

  "That sounds bad," said Robber.

  "Things could be worse."

  "How?"

  After a moment he answered, "Well, actually I can't think of any examples right now. So get your guns ready, keep a weather eye out and cross your fingers. Looks like we got another battle coming up."

  Starbuck asked, "You see 'em yet, Apollo, old buddy?"

  "Yep, here they come now," answered the captain. "Three ships."

  "That's not so bad. They could've sent half a dozen this time around."

  "That could be what they'll try next."

  "I'm going to hang back here and watch out for the shuttles," said Starbuck into his talkmike.

  "Those crates are armed," said Apollo, "but I don't think they're any match for Cylon fighters."

  "We'll have to make do with what we got."

  "Talk to you soon, chum. Got to greet our visitors."

  Starbuck took a puff of his cigar and squinted out his cockpit window.

  Far ahead in the darkness of space he could just make out the two Vipers going into action against the oncoming Cylon ships.

  He picked up his talkmike once more, and contacted Robber. "I've got visual contact with our friends now," he told her. "Three fighters, like the ones we tangled with earlier."

  "Do you think Apollo and Boomer can hold them off?"

  "I'll bet on it, but . . . hey, wow! Apollo got one of 'em!"

  The exploding Cylon fighter made an enormous splash of red and yellow across the blackness.

  "Be nice if they can take out the other two," came Robber's voice. "Because when we checked our laserguns, Starbuck, we discovered only one is functioning."

  "What? Didn't anybody think to look the guns over before we left?"

  "We took our leave, if you recall, in something of a hurry."

  "Yeah, I remember."

  "We've got Forger tinkering with the guns," she told him. "He's handy with gadgets."

  "Let's hope he's also fast."

  "I can dodge pretty well," Robber said. "So maybe—"

  "Hold on! A Cylon's gotten past Boomer. He's coming our way."

  "At you?"

  "I think," said Starbuck, "he's got you in mind, kid."

  "Damn," remarked Lieutenant Boomer.

  He executed a loop to get on the tail of the Cylon fighter that had managed to outfox him. The Cylon was racing toward the first shuttle ship.

  "She's a tough lady," said Boomer, "but I don't think she can outfly that Cylon. Not in a clunky crate like that."

  He increased his speed, narrowing the distance between him and the fighter. Then Boomer became aware of Starbuck.

  Starbuck was diving straight at the Cylon. He was racing across space at nearly max speed. There was no way he could avoid colliding with the Cylon.

  "Starbuck," yelled Boomer into his talkmike, "pull up, you idiot! You'll smash!"

  Starbuck was hunched in the pilot seat of Recon Viper One, cigar clenched in his teeth. "Don't let me down, Cora my love."

  "One of these days," she chided, "your daredevil ways are going to be the ruin of—"

  "Got a hunch today ain't the day, love."

  "The odds in favor of our smashing right into this vile Cylon craft and—"

  "In my wild youth we used to play a similar game in skycars," he informed the computer as they rushed down toward the fighter that was stalking Robber. "We called the game Chicken."

  "A childish male—"

  "Stand by, Cora."

  If the Cylon didn't flinch and dodge out of Starbuck's path, there was going to be an impressive collison.

  "That damn fool," said Assault. "He's done for."

  "Starbuck knows what he's doing," insisted Robber as she strived to maneuver the rattletrap shuttle away from the pursuing Cylon fighter.

  "What he's doing is committing suicide," said the bearded man.

  The Cylon gave in at the last instant, pulling up and flashing away from the shuttle.

  Starbuck's Viper whizzed across the path of the slow-moving shuttle.

  Lieutenant Boomer's Viper came roaring over.

  Before the Cylon could complete its turn, Boomer's guns sliced across the blackness.

  The needles of light dug into the belly of the Cylon fighter. The ship began vibrating, shivering and shuddering. Then it blew up.

  Robber sighed. "He saved us," she said.

  "Everybody intact aboard?" inquired Starbuck.

  "We are. And you?"

  "Fit as a fiddle," he answered.

  "I didn't realize how suicidal you were, but thanks."

  "Don't start sounding like my beloved Cora," Starbuck warned. "It ain't suicide when you know exactly what you're doing. And in case our late Cylon chum hadn't buzzed off, I still could've swerved and tried another trick or two."

  "I appreciate your interest," she said.

  "You may not have noticed," added Starbuck, "but Apollo took care of the remaining Cylon while Boomer and I were playing games here. Therefore, kiddo, we ought to have a safe and sound journey home."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Starbuck said, "Cora, I want to thank you for a most interesting jaunt." He unfastened his safety gear.

  "I guess this is goodbye," said the computer in a downcast voice.

  "Hey, we'll be flying together again." Starbuck glanced out at the Galactica docking area. A crew moved toward his just-landed ship.

  "I . . . I'll miss you."

  "Same here, love." Opening the cockpit, he stepped out.

  Cora made a sad, sighing sound.

  Starbuck stretched, scratched, dug out a fresh cigar.

  "I'm amazed," said Apollo, walking to Starbuck's side.

  "By what? The sheer artistry of my flying?"

  "Your incredible luck."

  "You call it luck, but actually it's skill. Pure skill." They moved over to the area where the shuttles would be docking.

  "Well, I have to admit you handled that new Viper damn well."

  "I did," agreed Starbuck, pausing to light a new cigar.

  "Think she'll fit in?"

  The first shuttle was coming in now.

  "Robber? Sure, she's adaptable."

  "The young lady is fond of you."

  "Most all females . . ." Starbuck frowned and turned serious for a moment. "I know. I feel responsible for her and . . . I like her, too."

  "But?"

  "I'm just not ready to limit myself to any one woman."

  "I think she knows that, old buddy."

  Starbuck nodded. "Well, let's go over and play reception committee," he suggested.

  Athena said, "Which one do you think it is?"

  Cassiopeia said, "Why limit ourselves to one? It could be a whole bunch."

  The two young women were standing at the edge of the group that was watching the shuttles dock and unload their passengers.

  "That blonde there?" suggested Athena.

  "Nope." Cassiopeia gave a negative shake of her head. "She's too . . . um . . . ample."

  "Don't forget that Starbuck likes obvious blondes."

  "Not that obvious, dear."

  "How about the redhead?"

  "Too skinny," decided Cassiopeia. "Starbuck does sometimes show an interest in underweight women, as you know, but—"

  "There he is, pushing his way up to the disembark doors of that shuttle."

  "Yes, and he's getting rid of his cigar."

  "That means," concluded Athena, "that he's getting ready to greet someone special."

  "That big man with the beard? That can't be right."

  "Well, they are shaking hands—very cordially."

  "I know Starbuck. He didn't nudge his way up there just to pass out a hearty handshake."

  "You're right. Look at him now," said Athena, disapproval in her voice.

  "He's giving a real bear
hug to that filthy girl."

  "She's a child, not more than twenty."

  "Taller than he is, too."

  "Well, he's always saying he wants a woman he can look up to."

  "Look at the way she's returning his embrace," pointed out Cassiopeia. "She's obviously fond of him."

  "Do you think that what she's wearing is considered fashionable in this galaxy?"

  "I hope not. Those trousers of hers are only a few steps from being rags."

  "I don't think much of her hair," observed Athena. "Too long, too unkempt."

  "Color's dreadful, too. Sort of a dull, sooty black."

  "It may not really be that dark. She obviously doesn't wash very often." Athena sighed, shaking her head. "Do you think the new Viper has possibly affected his brain?"

  "He was already showing lapses in taste before he took off," said Cassiopeia. "When he took you to dinner I knew something was going on wrong."

  "I'm not talking about his lapses in taste before he left," said Athena. "Even though his being seen with you indicates some kind of extreme mental—"

  "Look, we better not squabble. What's obviously called for is a united front."

  Athena nodded. "Yes, you're absolutely right, Cass," she agreed. "We must unite against a common enemy."

  "Once we've taken care of her, then we can get back to our own . . . oops! Watch out, Starbuck seems to be bringing her right over here to us."

  "Ladies," said Starbuck, grinning as he guided Robber up to the two of them. "I want you both to meet a good friend of mine. I'm sure you're all going to become fast friends."

  "Oh, of course," smiled Athena.

  "Oh, certainly," smiled Cassiopeia.

  Robber was sitting on the edge of the bunk, legs dangling. Her left eye was slightly narrowed and she was taking in the cabin she'd been assigned to. "Homier than a prison cell," she decided, "if not a hell of a lot bigger."

  Standing, she explored the room. She opened a door and observed, "Nice plumbing facilities, too."

  Pausing, she studied her image in the mirror on the inside of the door.

  She was going to have to shape up some. She did look a little wild and unkempt, compared to the women she'd seen so far on the Galactica.

  "First thing to do is wash up, then try on these new clothes they—"

  Someone was tapping on the door of her quarters.

  "Come on in," she invited.

  "You have to activate the door, kiddo."

  "Yeah, that's right." She scooted over to flip the right switch. "Now come in."

  Starbuck, decked out in a fresh warrior uniform, stood on the threshold. He clutched a bunch of crimson flowers in his right hand; in his left was a smoldering cigar. "For you, my love," he said, handing in the bouquet and then coming into the room himself.

  "They're pretty," she said as she took the flowers.

  "Finest plastic blooms to be found aboard the entire battlestar," he assured her.

  Smiling, Robber placed them on a small table. "Flowers always brighten up a room," she said. "Sit someplace, why don't you?"

  "Thanks, I will." He settled into one of the cabin's two chairs. "Like the joint?"

  "More or less."

  "Going to take some getting used to."

  "You remember our agreement." She sat again on the edge of the bunk. "I'm only trying this out. I can take off anytime."

  "Sure, the Galactica isn't a prison."

  "I know, the plumbing's too good for that," she said. "So just make sure nobody junks that shuttle I flew in on. I may want to use it again some day."

  He grinned. "This evening, or what passes for evening hereabouts, we're going to have a sort of celebration in the rec lounge," he informed her. "To welcome all you pilgrims aboard. Music, dancing, libations and fun for the whole family."

  Robber shrugged. "Do you really want me to go?"

  "Why not?"

  She answered, "Those two girls you introduced me to. Athena and Cassiopeia . . . I didn't miss the way they were inspecting me from tip to toe."

  "Envy, my child, pure and simple."

  "No, they're both fond of you." She brushed at her long dark hair. "They were obviously wondering why the hell you were showing an interest in in some wild savage from the sticks."

  "Hey, I've seen a few savages in my days," Starbuck said. "You aren't one, Robber."

  "There's another problem," the young woman said. "When you told them my name, one of them could hardly keep from snickering and the other one just looked stunned."

  "C'mon, kid. Being named Cassiopeia isn't all that nifty either," he pointed out.

  "But I ought to have a real name," she told him with conviction. "My mother never knew our family name. That's one of the reasons I was anxious to reach Aeries, to find out who I really am.'

  "You're not going to be able to do that, not with the Cylons in control of the planet," he said. "Tell you what . . . Why don't we just pick a new name for you? One you can use until you find out the true and authentic one."

  "I suppose I could do that," Robber said. "Any suggestions?"

  "How about Roberta? It's close to the name you're using now."

  "Roberta sounds like a prissy blonde," she said, "with freckles."

  "Merely a suggestion."

  "Do you like the sound of Roberta?"

  "Sure," he said. "It has a certain lilt."

  "I'll think about it," she said finally. "But I'm not promising anything."

  "Feel free to pick one of your own." Starbuck stood up. "Got to take my leave. But if you don't mind, I'll drop by this eve to escort you to the festivities."

  "You don't have to."

  "I know I don't have to," he said. "I want to."

  "Okay then, it's a date." Crossing the room, she gave him a quick but careful kiss on the cheek. "Thanks again. For everything."

  Apollo paced his father's quarters as he spoke. "So that's the story of Proteus and its prison," he concluded.

  "Incredible," said Colonel Tigh, who sat in a chair across from Adama. "Going on like that, generation after generation, cut off from everything."

  "In a way," observed the commander, who sat with his chin resting on steepled fingers, "their situation parallels ours."

  "But we have a mission and a purpose," said Tigh.

  "They thought they did, too," said Adama.

  "You're not suggesting we're as deluded as they are?"

  "No." Commander Adama smiled. "Only that I noted some similarities. At any rate, we shall do everything in our power to make them welcome on the Galactica."

  Apollo sat down. "There's also the problem of those who chose to stay behind on Proteus."

  "Yes. If the Cylons learn of them," said the Colonel, "they're doomed."

  Adama asked his son, "Do they have anything in the way of defenses?"

  "Some antiquated fighter ships, a few shuttles similar to the ones you saw earlier. The ships are armed with laser weapons, but not one is a match for a Cylon fighter."

  "We better make sure the Cylons decide this particular galaxy isn't worth the trouble."

  "Lessons like that," pointed out the colonel, "are hard to teach."

  "We'll find a way."

  Apollo asked, "You're expecting them to send more fighters out here, aren't you?"

  "I am, yes."

  Tigh leaned forward in his chair. "I anticipate a new Cylon attack, too," he said. "In light of that, do you think it's wise to hold the welcoming party this evening?"

  Commander Adama said, "Yes, since it will make our new guests feel at home and it will be good for the morale of our people."

  "If there's an attack, we—"

  "We'll be ready," Adama assured him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Starbuck took his cigar from between his lips. "Wow," he remarked.

  Smiling tentatively, Robber asked him, "Do I look okay?"

  He nodded affirmatively, moving into her room from the corridor. "You did something to your hair."

 
"Washed it, cut it a bit."

  "And you're using makeup."

  "Just a little. You don't think it's too much?"

  "Nope, it's just right." He held his cigar at arm's length before sniffing the air. "Perfume, too?"

  "Supposed to smell like wild flowers," she said. "Although I've never sniffed any wild flowers that smelled this musky. Not too strong, is it?"

  "It's very delicate, don't worry."

  Taking a step back from him, she held her arms out at her side. "Now how about the clothes, Starbuck? Just standard issue, but do they look okay and fit right?"

  "Yep," he assured her, "yep, they fit. Just fine."

  "Why are you looking at me in that dippy, sort of cockeyed way?"

  The lieutenant shook his head. "You're really . . . pretty."

  "Hadn't you noticed that up till now?"

  "I noticed, sure . . . but you didn't look like this out on the asteroids and planetoids, kid."

  "Well, that's because I was wearing my work clothes," she explained. "But, hell, once I got a look at the competition around here, I realized I better upgrade my image."

  "You've succeeded. Darn well."

  "I don't want you to feel responsible for me in any way," Robber said. "But still there are people aboard this battlestar . . . Athena and Cass to name just two . . . who are going to think of me as your protégé. For a while, anyhow. So I want to make damn sure you're not embarrassed by me."

  "Those feelings you can lay to rest, Robber."

  "And I've decided I will be Roberta," she said. "For now at least."

  Grinning, he offered her his arm. "Roberta," he invited, "allow me to escort you to the celebration."

  Lieutenant Jolly was among the first to notice her. Smoothing his moustache, he came ambling across the crowded rec lounge to Starbuck. "Well, great to see you back safe and sound, Starbuck," Jolly said, his eyes on Robber and his hand extended to the lieutenant.

  Starbuck shook hands. "Like you to meet a friend of mine. Robb . . . Roberta, this is the one and only Lieutenant Jolly. Jolly, Roberta."

  Jolly, much to Starbuck's surprise, clicked his booted heels, bowed, took Robber's right hand and planted a kiss on it. "Charmed," he said.

  "So am I, Lieutenant," she said, smiling. "I've heard a great deal about you since I arrived."