Forester helped Bear build a shelter and gather wood for a fire. He felt awkward around the raptor pilot was fed up at receiving one-word responses to his numerous attempts at small talk. He blurted. “L.T. what’s the fraking agenda? Get naked and chant by the fire?” He received a hearty laugh from the man and was told to call him by his first name, Rising-moon. The chief looked at him thinking that was a mouthful and asked if he could just call him Moon. The response was that as long as he didn’t salute, he could call him anything he liked and he was free to take off his clothes if it made him comfortable.
The majority of the late afternoon was spent fishing in relative silence. Moon caught the most but regardless of size, threw them back. As far as he was concerned there were other things available to eat and he didn’t see the justification of sacrificing a creature without reason. On the other hand, Julian caught two small fish and kept them both. He was of the opinion that it might be a long time before he could enjoy fresh catches again. The night approached, Bear started the fire by hand and helped cook the fish. As they ate their meals, the stars grew brighter in the sky and the atmosphere slowly took on an ominous tone.
Wearing only a simple loincloth, with the small stone axe slung at his side, Moon drew symbols on the ground with salt. Julian watched in bewilderment and he found himself slowly being pulled into the moment, despite it not having officially begun. He spotted a bowl of facial paints that Bear made from various plants and started to copy one of the symbols on the ground. Moon finished the last symbol and looked at the chief and pointed to his forehead. “That one means love. See, Aphrodite guides your hand.” He sat down and threw some herbs on the fire to generate the necessary sacred smoke.
Momentarily as everything started to become surreal, Rising-moon began to drum and chant. Forester closed his eyes, breathed deeply and tried to relax. When he opened them, the lieutenant was gone and the forest was silent. The Chief stood up, looked around and called out for the lieutenant. A soft female voice responded from inside the crude fashioned shelter he and Bear had made. “You always panicked so easily.” Julian turned abruptly and the woman from inside pushed back the door covering, stepping out. He fell to the ground as he stared at her; it was Alana his wife. “It’s good to see that even in death I can still make you fall for me.”
In a mixture of confusion, fear and emotional pain, tears erupted from his eyes and like hurt animal; he let out a primal scream. Alana just stood and patiently watched. “Yea… I was kind of warned that dead people have this effect on the living.” On his knees Julien continued to sob believing this to be some sort of insane drug hallucination, but then he began to feel an intense burning sensation on his forehead. In a strange way it called him back to normalcy and he finally spoke to his deceased wife. “You’re dead!”
Alana sarcastically responded, “Well you were there when it happened.” She smiled at the man and they shared an uneasy laugh. “I don’t think this will last forever, so are you going to come over here and kiss me or what?” The Chief took a hesitant step and then quickly crossed the distance. He threw his arms around her and hungrily kissed her hard.
Cradling her head in his hands, he once again experienced the sweetness of her mouth and the softness of her body. It wasn’t until this moment that even he could fathom how much he had missed her. His heart ached and he decided that he didn’t care about living anymore, if he couldn’t be with her.
Alana broke off the embrace and pushed him back. Like a scornful mother she pointed a finger at him. “Oh no you don’t! I heard that!” Julian looked at her in shock and tried to explain that he just wanted them to be together again. “You will eventually get here on your own. Besides the toasters really did a number on us and there are line-ups in the underworld right now.” She sat down on the ground and made it known she would be more comfortable if she could put her head in husband’s lap. The chief happily complied and she continued to speak. “You’re not going to like hearing this, but the war is over and we lost. There are some survivors but for the most part, the colonies are gone. Not much left but nuclear waste lands.”
“Tell Scott I said thanks for the funeral and that I understand now why it was so hard for him to do.” The Chief leaned down and kissed her lips, finding them just as warm as he remembered. Once again reading his thoughts she retorted, “You’re not kissing my corpse, so it doesn’t work like that.” The deceased woman smirked and shook her head as she looked into her husband’s eyes. “Down to business before I fade out.” She reached up and held his face with one hand. “Being a ghost doesn’t give you the ability to see the future. But I can tell you things you can’t see, like what’s going on around you. For example, you’re inside enemy territory and they are just waiting for a real basestar to show up. Not like that old hunk of junk you cannibalized.” Julian smirked and playedwith Alana’s hair to which she responded by pinching his cheeks and giving a stern scolding look.
“This is a very remote cylon outpost and there is something called a resurrection facility on this planet. There really isn’t anything else here and nearest I can figure, Toaster one was sent over a decade ago to be a kind of caretaker of this area.” She swallowed hard, “which leads to a new problem. The toasters are new, improved and you got to get Max and take out an airfield.” The chief stopped being playful for a moment and looked at her with serious eyes and confusion. “There are not many humans left and you’re all going to die if you don’t do something. Max is about 2km up the lake from you and you’ll find the airfield in about 5km in the same direction.”
Alana began to relate details of a plan in which there was a heavy cylon raider that routinely landed at a fueling depot on the far side of the airstrip. “There are 3 centurions. Two of the new kind, 1 of the old and you’re pop guns won’t do much against the new guys, so blow the fuel station. Don’t worry, the raider can take it. After that, you and Max bomb the squadron on the ground and bug out.” The chief shook his head and informed her that the flaw to her plan was that neither lieutenant Maxime nor himself were fighter pilots. So perhaps it would best be left to Bear.
“Bear is needed someplace else. And there is no one else to do the job. Taking off isn’t that different from using an atmosphere jumper. As for the bombing, all I can say is try dropping a lot of them in a straight line.” Forester began to shake his head again and was prevented from speaking with a finger placed on his lips. “I out rank you so consider this an order. And there is nothing in the regulations that say a dead lieutenant can’t order a chief.” She cracked a wry smile, Julian saluted and both of them laughed.
“Listen, whatever you do, don’t try and save Lapointe. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more, so suckface with me because I’m already fading out.” The man passionately embraced his wife and in moments she was gone.
Bear stood over the chief offering him a glass of water. “My apologies for the intrusion but we have work to do.” Forester took the glass of water and looked around in confusion. “Tell the lieutenant that it will be a vertical take off like the atmosphere jumpers. But set the stabilizers first and keep his thrust up. Also there is a brain box in the back of the ship. You can’t miss it and before you fly, rip it out.” He then picked up the old fireman’s axe and made a small cut on either side of his cheeks. “Your friend is that way.” He pointed in a direction up the lake. “I have to go rescue Cupcake and Gains.”
The man then began to run off in the opposite direction and the chief yelled back that the centurions were new and improved. “I know! What do you think the axe is for? ” was the response he received as the man disappeared out of sight.
-----
Things were going accord to plan for Mr. Creepy. He had made contact with the cylons, told them he would share his recent memories later and told them where to find Assuras and her group. As he sat inside the heavy raider, excitement raced in his veins wondering who was going to die first. He just had to make certain Lapointe didn’t get killed. If he died, it could ruin all his plans for the future.
The plane landed and everyone filed out. One of the blonde women spoke, “Their heat signatures are just over there. You know it would just be easier to kill Lapointe.” Leoben laughed, referred to the woman as number 6 and told her that it would save time to just keep him alive. The female just shrugged gave the go ahead to proceed with the attack.
The combat was one sided as to be expected. But somehow Cupcake managed to escape. He watched her run in a zigzag pattern to avoid the gunfire. “Looks like the Major is going to make it inside the facility. That’s going to complicate things a bit.” Another Leoben rolled his eyes and sighed about this all having happened before. One of the six’s shrugged her shoulders stated the obvious. “Well it certainly means we can’t just drop a bomb in there. Things would be so much easier if none of the humans were part of god’s plan.” The close proximity fire ceased and she turned her attention toward the other two that had dropped for cover.
“Ahhh god must love us! You know you should just put your arms up because otherwise we’ll have to throw some really big grenades at you.” A few seconds later lieutenant Lapointe stood up and surrendered. She spoke again, “Well geez, how did I know lieutenant Lapointe would be the first to stand up?” Grudgingly, Sasha also stood up and surrendered.
“So what are we going to do with them?” A different six was talking and responded to by another. “Well Lapointe we sit down and have a nice little chit chat with. As for lieutenant Gains, I say we interrogate her and wait until the basestar arrives, then send her to a reproduction centre.” The old centurion, that major Assuras had spotted earlier walked up to the group and spoke in his mechanical voice, “By your command.” He was given the ok to proceed from one of the Conoys, not Mr. Creepy.
“The human has entered the resurrection facility. We can not remove it without damaging or destroying the download receptors or the biologicals.” It was a statement of the obvious but the old models were known for doing that.
Gains was restrained and Lapointe wasn’t. Instead he was seated beside Mr. Creepy inside the heavy raider “As you can see a lot has changed since being together on the Argus. Don’t be scared, we are all here to help you.” The plane lifted off and Sasha spat at her comrade, calling him a filthy traitor. One of the sixes coldly stared at her and informed her that she was going to let a number 3 model interrogate her. She then chuckled further adding that those cylons aren’t known for being gentle or affectionate.
Sasha through gritted teeth challenged her captors that androids couldn’t be affectionate. “Not androids, a little more than that. We are just as flesh and blood as you are.” Mr. Creepy had responded with a smug look on his face.
The aircraft landed and everyone disembarked. There was a small camouflaged building further into the forest and they headed toward it. Lieutenant Lapointe was in complete confusion as to why he wasn’t restrained. As if almost reading his thoughts Mr. Creepy put his arm around him and began to console him. Telling him how he had everything he would need to make him feel better.
Lapointe began to sweat and his mouth went dry at the thought. He was a mix of emotions that ranged from a fading sense of loyalty to the fleet to a desire that if he released control, the cylons would take care of him. But most of all, his mind remained steadfast on Mr. Creepy. In some metaphorical way, he had fallen in love with him. And although he looked just like the other Conoys, the lieutenant could somehow tell the difference. It was almost a spiritual connection and that was strengthened by the medicinal white powder he supplied him. Reaching out toward each other, the two men held hands as they walked into the building.
The building extended slightly underground and was comprised of a long corridor with 6 rooms that branched off of it. Sasha was taken down to the end of the hallway and put in one of the rooms. Moments later 2 different statuesque blonde women entered the building. One laughed saying that someone called for a pair of 3s. A Conoy pointed to the room at the end of the hall and said that the human’s name was Sash Gains. Together the two women walked to the door and opened it.
Bound and sitting, lieutenant Gains looked at the identical women and involuntarily gasped with fear. One of the threes grinned and commented that she was an exceptionally cute human and they were going to have fun. Simultaneously cracking their knuckles, they walked in and closed the door behind them. A few seconds later Gains could be heard cussing, and then screaming in pain.
“They take such joy in the simple things.” It was Mr. Creepy speaking. “So what are we going to do about getting the major out of the resurrection facility?” One of the 6’s paused for a moment. She then touched Lapointe’s cheek with her hand and he found himself gently snuggling his face into it. It was confirmation to him that he made the right choice, the cylons were going to take care of him and make his suffering end. “It’s good to see it will be easy with him. Normally there are a lot of problems.” She repositioned herself and then gently cradled the man’s head against her waist. “We better get Assuras out before she damages something. I say we send in a face she recognizes. And I’m sure if anyone can talk her into surrendering, it will be lieutenant Lapointe. She did love him once.” All those present nodded their heads in agreement.
-----
The Admiral had assembled, in the ship’s galley, the entire deck crew and the master at arms for questioning. He had to ascertain that the nuke was indeed off the ship and on the planet’s surface. With anger and frustration close to the surface, he began his interrogation the moment the guards closed the doors to the public. Through clenched teeth he berated sergeant Dole. “You look after the weapons. It never once occurred to you to ask lieutenant Lapointe what he needed a nuke for?” Looking his commander in the eye, as only a well-trained marine could, he calmly informed him that his job was small weapons and warheads were anything but small. Furthermore nothing on the Argus ever follows standard operating procedure.
Hallis closed his eyes and slowly exhaled before speaking again. “But you watched him take the bomb, put it on a weapon transport and wheel it out to the raptor.” The sergeant voiced quickly that he had. Sweat made the ship’s old man clammy and he continued to consciously control his own breathing in order to keep from loosing his temper. “And the rest of you helped him arm Major Assuras’ raptor.” All those present agreed that it was indeed loaded on the aircraft.
Hallis was amazed at what he was hearing and secretly found himself wondering if Ford was right about enlisted personnel. They were essentially stupid because when S.O.P. wasn’t standard, they couldn’t figure out a logical course of action, which in this case was to call C.I.C to get a verbal confirmation on the order. True enough their current situation was anything but typical, but this was unacceptable. “Stores say that it was a 40 megaton bomb. Can anyone confirm that?” Uniformly everyone nodded that it was correct.
Chewing on a splinter of wood for a toothpick, the colonel sat in a chair watching the admiral’s investigation unfold. Removing the pick from his mouth he spoke to Hallis offering a suggestion. “Sir, might I suggest that we relieve these men of duty and sequester them to vacant area of the ship. Keep a lid on this until we have more information.” Admiral Hallis agreed with the suggestion and quickly gave the marine a set of orders to immediately carry out.
“Cancel all leave, bring the ship to condition one. Screw fuel preservation and get a c.a.p. in the air, and start recalling everyone from the planet: vacation is officially over.” The Colonel blinked twice at the mention of condition one and Hallis was quick to respond. “Mr. Conoy is either a collaborator, or in the remote chance he is a spy, going after them. The only certainty is the enemy; and we must be ready.” He grunted and spat out his final words, “I lost the Poseidon and I’m not getting my ass served to me a second time.” Bridgeford called in his guards and proceeded to execute the commands.
-----
Captain Reeves sat in his office contemplating his options. He wasn’t aboard the Argus, so there wasn’t anything he could do to help. Even if he was, he wasn’t certain what he could do. As he contemplated his next course of action, he found himself wishing he had a more experienced officer to bounce ideas off of. Alone, he decided that command really sucked. Then the grave realization of whom he had to turn to struck him. Scowling he made his way to CIC to retrieve the only experienced combat officer he had access to; relieving the soldier of his immediate duties, he ushered Ford into his office. The ex-viper jock stood at attention, not wanting to warrant the volatile wrath of his commander.
The Captain slightly broke the tension by telling him to relax before he went into dialog. “We have a problem and I need some advice.” Shocked Ford volunteered to help anyway he could. “A nuke has been stolen from the Argus and it is believed to be on the planet. Mr. Creepy is suspect and missing as well; he may be working for the enemy. Additionally we have lost contact with Cupcake and Bear on the surface. We are 18 hours from rendezvous, given the situation, what is a feasible course of action?” Ford was stunned that a man who probably dreamed of killing him would dare to ask him for advice.
Reeves picked up on the look and made it clear that although he didn’t like Ford, he had a job to do, and he couldn’t and wouldn’t deny the man’s superior command and combat experience. His first duty was to the fleet and he wasn’t going to be negligent in that duty. Therefore, flushing Ford out of an airlock would have to wait.
Lieutenant Ford wanted to smirk because Reeves needed him, but his smugness was quickly beaten back by shame, as the remorse of his past mistakes surfaced and suppressed it. He enquired about the combat and mechanical status of Toaster one. The response was they had no combat abilities. The haul plating had been stripped to the bare bones leaving some sections exposed to space; there was next to nothing left of the ship.
Ford paused a moment, to think before speaking, “Argus is at extreme geo-synchronise orbit around Gomorrah. Manoeuvre the ship at mid point between the two. That way we can act like a shield to anything that might come from the surface. How is our FTL? “ The answer was that it was disabled but the core engines were still intact. Some of the computer systems would have to be put back and range would be very limited. “Priority should be to the FTL and to calculate out the next nearest resource planet. If Argus is destroyed we might have to take the survivors out of here and Gomorrah won’t be safe.” Finished Ford simply stared at Reeves. The Captain finally broke the silence saying he would draw the Admiral’s attention to his help. “Sir, no matter what Mr. Creepy’s involvement is with the toasters, the enemy is most likely on the planet’s surface and a basestar on its way. Consider setting condition one aboard the ship. ”
Another long pause occurred between the two men and the Captain enquired if there was anything else that needed to be said. “Yes sir, there is one thing. I know my mistake, I forgot about the job and made things all about me. But it’s not all about the job either; it’s about the people. You’re a hell of a lot tougher than I ever imagined, but every so often everyone needs a pat on the back; push your men as hard as you push yourself and they will break. Most likely when you need them the most.”
Like his nickname, the junkyard dog bared his teeth and was about to growl at lieutenant Ford but reconsidered it. He spoke through clenched teeth, “You were the hottest stick on the Poseidon, what the frak happened to you?” Ford cleared his throat, “I broke… Let’s just say there was someone I wished had given me a pat on the back.” He then saluted and without asking permission left the room. Reeves indulged the minor indiscretion. He didn’t like the man anymore than before, but he didn’t see any reason to break him further. Especially considering there was still work to do.
-----
Lieutenant Maxime was lounging quietly on his back with a blade of grass in his mouth. He was day dreaming about Sasha showing up and all the wonderful naked things they would do together. He loved everything there was about women especially making love to them. And he smirked to himself, because it appeared that he found his female equivalent. The feisty red head loved making love just as much as he did.
The tranquility broke. Chief Forester came bursting into the clearing beside the lake. “Max, we got toasters!!” The lieutenant rolled over and darted for his rifle. He looked to the area behind the chief but saw no one. Out of breath, Forester bounded into him. “This planet is a cylon outpost!” He gasped as he heaved the next words, “we got to take out an airfield.”
Maxime was confused, questions darted through his mind and he stumbled to voice them and only got out the word “How?” Forester responded saying that Argus was an old ship and it’s obsolete systems couldn’t find a dagget in a pound. “The air field is most likely camouflaged; we have to steal a heavy raider to bomb it.” He then grabbed the man by his jacket and pulled him in the direction he was told to go. The two men ran and the chief endeavoured to explain further.
“There will be 3 toasters but not like we are used to seeing. And that cylon riffle won’t do crap against the new centurions.” Max stopped abruptly as he regained his ability to think and vocally objected that he didn’t know how to fly real planes. “It’s a vertical take off, just like an atmosphere jumper. Set your stabilizers first and keep the thrust up.” He then grabbed the man by the jacket again and started running once more. But this time it was Forester that stopped suddenly remembering that he couldn’t recall seeing the former chief ever use an atmosphere craft. Maxime wheezed his response; “I have twice.” paused and swallowed, “once in a simulator.” At that comment both men just looked at each other for a moment’s disbelief.
“You were with Bear. Where the hell is he?” The response was worse than he had hoped, the raptor pilot was not only occupied, he busy rescuing the major and Sasha. Visibly disturbed at the mention of his lover’s name, lieutenant Maxime pulled rank and demanded all the details before further running off again half-crazed. “Start talking,” was his command.
Forester was struggling to find a non-crazy explanation. Somehow dialog about the dead coming back and so forth just didn’t cut it in his mind. He sighed and offered, “Bear did that weird crap that he does and got some intel. Don’t ask me how because I don’t believe it either. But these are our orders and the plan we are to follow.” Despite his urge to run off to save Sasha, Max listened and decided to trust his long-time friend. And since he was told that lieutenant Bear, a more experienced soldier, backed them, he would follow his orders.
The two men continued the 3 km run toward the fuelling depot. The new centurions looked big and tough, it was obvious they didn’t have the firepower to destroy all 3 of them. The question was how were they going to blow up the fuel depot. “It would have been nice if Bear had cast a spell for explosives.” The lieutenant shook his head because he couldn’t see any way to blow something up with only an old cylon riffle. “We are human sir. Let’s just use our imaginations.” Forester wasn’t kidding in that comment, but Maxime couldn’t resist wanting to believe this was all a bad dream. He closed his eyes, “I’m imagining it exploding.” When he opened them again to see nothing had changed, he grumbled, “Great plan chief.”
The two then sat down in the wooded area that faced the clearing and made notes in the dirt. Emptying their pockets, Forester produced a knife, a large ball of home-made fishing line and the last letter his wife had written him, whereas Max put on the ground 3 condoms, Sasha’s panties, matches and granola bars.
The Chief looked at the undergarments and rolled his eyes. “Fraksakes Max, you’re banging the girl. Do you really need those?” The lieutenant eyed the man and bluntly noted that he was certain the chief wasn’t above keeping souvenirs. The two men smirked at each other and continued to examine their options.
“Fuel will explode if it gets hot enough. So we need fire.” Maxime was doing his best to sound like an officer and come up with a plan. Forester shook his head, “Sir, you need at least a small explosion to blow up the fuel. Otherwise it will just burn and the toasters might put it out.” The two men looked at each other in confusion. Finally Max smiled, “I got it!” He picked the knife and started to cut open bullet casings. “My last 3 condoms.” He continued, “I stuff one rubber really tightly with gunpowder and use your letter for a fuse. Then I make a slingshot with the other two.”
The Chief groaned at the ludicrous idea, and mockingly added, “Why don’t you mold the sticky granola bars around the homemade bomb to give it projectile abilities like a grenade”. “Now you’re talking chief!” The man smiled really goofy like and just continued with his idea. “Next you tie the panties to the end of your fishing line and circle wide along the tree line to the other side of the clearing. When you get there, pull on the line and drag the underwear across the ground in front of the toasters.”
Forester’s objections were silenced when he couldn’t offer another plan of action. So somehow he would weave the fishing line around the trees and other obstacles until he got to the far side of the clearing. Once there, he would begin pulling the panties across and the cylons would spot them and be distracted. At which point Maxime would shoot his last bullet through a fuel barrel stacked next to the heavy raider. He would then use his condom slingshot and catapult the homemade grenade into the spill. Max further argued that he had made the granola bars out of honey and animal fats. So he expected it would burn really nicely. “You never have seen a sugar fire, have you chief? It’s hot and sticky and when it explodes flaming pieces cling to everything.”