Chapter 28C - The flight home

[Astraea]

Astraea chuckled as she scanned the instrumentation. Over the yahrens she had learned many of the Cylon symbols that dominated their language even though she still couldn’t decipher the code.

“What is all this stuff anyway?” Lazant asked as he stared out the view screen at the blood-red vapors that nearly blotted out the blackness of space.

She glanced up to see what he was referring to before returning her attention to the panel. “A Cylon experiment gone awry.” She tapped at a few of the keys. “I think it had something to do with the stored energy of hyperspace, but I never really found out for certain.”

“Stored energy of hyperspace?” he repeated in confusion.

“Everything contains some sort of energy,” she explained as she frowned at the readouts. “Rumor has it that they were trying to recreate the elements of a light speed jump so that they could enter hyperspace without the need of gaining speed.”

The implications hit him instantly. They had managed to outrun the slower Cylon basestars for over 25 yahrens, but, if the Cylons could jump to light speed at the flip of a switch, the fleet would lose its tactical advantage. His mind continued to search the possibilities when a thought struck him. “We were inadvertently pulled out of our hyper-jump and ended up on the basestar. Could this red stuff have caused that?”

She spared him a glance. “Did you happen to notice that wormhole on your way in?” She pulled on a lever at her feet as he nodded. “That’s what happened when the Cylons jettisoned the core. I’d say that’s enough to pull you out of a hyper jump.”

He looked at her skeptically. “That’s impossible. Do you have any idea what sort of power you would have to expend to actually cause a rift in space? The size of the component alone would have to be bigger than a basestar!”

She shot him another look. “No, actually, it was about ten metrons high and probably about fifteen metrons in circumference.”

“You saw it?” he returned with even more sarcasm in his voice.

Her attention was so focused on the readout that she almost missed his question although the skepticism came through clearly. “Several of us did during a prisoner transfer. It wasn’t until later that we found out what it was, but we had heard rumors of the experiment.”

He watched her working at the controls and finally realized that they weren’t picking up speed the way that they should. “What’s wrong?”

“You mean aside from the fact that I can’t get any navigational readings?”

He quickly stood and leaned in over her shoulder. “Was it knocked out by one of the Raiders?”

She shook her head as she set the autopilot to keep them on a straight vector. “The navigation is working fine. It simply can’t lock onto anything outside of the red vapors. That wormhole isn’t helping matters either. With its gravitational pull, we would probably end up light yahrens off of whatever destination we program in.”

“Just get us out of this and we’ll worry about the destination later.”

The cruiser rocked as a laser volley narrowly missed them. “Oh, did I mention the full squadron of Raiders behind us?” Astraea asked.

[Astraea]

Two more volleys exploded around them motivating Lazant to leap back into his seat and buckle in. “Switch on the automatic systems,” he ordered as he prepared himself to begin firing once more.

Astraea gave him a blank look then shook her head. “You don’t know much about Cylon cruisers, do you?” She cleared out the information screen and set the computer back on navigation. “These things are built for speed and transportation not daggit fights.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked as he scanned the bloody heavens awaiting his chance to light it up. “We did just fine on the basestar.”

She put the ship into a hard bank. “The gun turrets on the bottom are an afterthought. It became ‘convenient’ to have the cruisers mop up what was left of a civilization after the Raiders had their fun.” She tapped at a few of the keys on her panel then grasped the wide control stick with both hands. “The cruisers do a slow flyby with all cannons firing before setting down to protect whatever wire-brain dignitary they have on board.”

Lazant’s eyes narrowed as he gave her a long look. He wasn’t certain if he should believe her or not. They had devastated the landing bay within microns, but he did have to take over firing when ships rose off the deck which would lend credence to her story. However, there was the fact that Astraea exhibited psychotic behavior more than once since they had met. “So what are we suppose to do? Wait for them to destroy us?”

A thin smile rose on her face as she stared out ahead of them. “Ever hear of a slingshot around a star to gain speed?”

His first thought was But there isn’t a star nearby, and then he looked out to see that she had steered them directly toward the wormhole. “You’re insane!”

“You keep saying that,” she returned conversationally. “You’re starting to give me a complex.” She could hear Lazant muttering to himself and wondered for a micron if it was a prayer or a curse, but the trembling of the control stick in her hands returned her focus. Their speed had almost doubled in the past few microns.

The wormhole had him riveted for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen something so awe-inspiring and so frightening. Slowly he realized that there were no longer any laser blasts going off around them and he looked down at the tactical screen. “Are those Raiders actually backing off?” he asked in disbelief.

Astraea quickly tapped at several controls then grabbed the throttle. “If you had lost a few dozen Raiders down the gullet of that thing, you’d back off too.” She tapped at a few more keys and pulled hard against the stick.

“And you’re sending us straight for it!”

“Before you start the lecture, you might want to grab onto that control stick,” she said calmly as she braced her feet against the panel. “I’m not going to be able to pull us out of this on my own.”

Lazant glanced back down at the panel in front of him and saw that she had returned power to the station. Without a second thought, he assumed the same position as Astraea. “The stick isn’t moving! You haven’t released the system!”

She strained every muscle to maneuver the cruiser. “It’s the gravitational pull,” she said through gritted teeth. “It’s stronger than I anticipated.”

Lazant actually rose off of his seat as he pressed his boots against the control panel and pulled against the throttle. For a fraction of a micron he was surprised that the stick didn’t break under the pressure. “If we can’t move…” he choked out.

Astraea glanced down at the navigation screen to see that their trajectory hadn’t wavered even with both of them struggling. “We’ll find out exactly where those Raiders went and why they haven’t returned.”

He saw her slowly release the controls, resigned in their fate. “Haven’t returned?” he asked as he continued in vain to move them on his own.

She shook her head as she looked over at him. “The base commander has them listed as destroyed.” His eyes turned to hers. “They don’t think the Raiders survived the passage through the wormhole.”

Lazant increased the pressure against the throttle until his hands slipped off and he was thrown back into his seat. His drew in heaving breaths as he glared at her. “So you’ve actually managed to get us killed after all.”

“Hey, I only said that I would get you off the basestar.” She held her hands wide. “We’re off, aren’t we?”

Rage pulsated with every beat of his racing heart. After all they had been through surviving a suicide mission and escaping from Cylon capture, they were going to die at the hands of one of their own.

[Astraea]

“Look at it this way,” Astraea said as she glanced down to see that they had already reached the cruiser’s maximum speed. “We’re going to get to see one of the rarest cosmic events in the galaxy up close and personal.”

“I don’t want to see it up close and personal!” Lazant yelled back. “I want to see it from a distance. A safe distance. Preferably on the bridge of the Callisto instead of this Cylon rust bucket.”

“Now you tell me!” she returned sarcastically, her eyes darting to capture every detail of the wormhole. She knew very little about the specifics. She was a historian by trade and would have a glorious time recording the experience if she ever had the opportunity again. “Just enjoy the ride!”

His mouth was agape when he saw the look of anticipation on her face. Her eyes were nearly as wide as her smile while she absently tightened her harness.

His harness! He had released it to try to get better leverage against the throttle! He tried to stand to pull the straps out from under him, but their increasing speed kept him seated. Panic spiked at his chest even as the straps plopped out and he fumbled to secure them. Nothing but blackness filled their view. They were at the mouth of the wormhole.

A bright flash of white light blinded them as they accelerated beyond the computer’s capabilities to calculate. They were pressed so forcefully down that they were unable to lift their arms or even move their heads. The deafening sound of the altered space was broken only by the threatening rattle of the ship.

Astraea blinked at the spots in her vision and strained to focus. They had entered a bluish white corridor that glittered with random sparks of color. She couldn’t tell if they were energy bursts or if they were parts of shattered space craft. The glimpses were so fleeting that they barely registered in her mind before they passed.

“I…can’t…breath,” Lazant shouted out over the roar of the vortex as the stress on their bodies increased.

It was only then that Astraea realized that she was having trouble forcing air into her lungs. As they catapulted through the cosmic tunnel, the pressure was continuing to build. The automatic systems on the cruiser could no longer compensate and it was only a matter of time until it crushed them.

Hurling toward their destruction, the air was squeezed out of their bodies. Both Lazant and Astraea let out a final scream.

[Astraea]

The bright wormhole effect began to darken around the edges and Astraea knew that she was about to black out. Her lungs could no longer draw in air and, in a few more microns; her heart would no longer be able to throb under the pressure. Still, she kept her gaze fixed ahead. Death would be a welcome respite from Cylon imprisonment and she couldn’t ask for a more spectacular ending. That is, if it was all really happening.

Suddenly, the blue-white light of the vortex was gone and they were rocketed out into the blackness of space. They were thrown forward hard against their harnesses, their arms and legs shooting out in front of them as the cruiser speed dropped rapidly. The jolt roused them into consciousness and they greedily gulped in air.

It was a full centon before Lazant’s head cleared enough to comprehend what had happened then he looked over at Astraea. “Did you fire the breaking thrusters?” he breathed.

Her chin dropped to her shoulder as she turned to look at him. “They were…on the entire time,” she finally managed.

He stared out the front view screen grateful to see the star-speckled black sky. “That’s one trip I’m not likely to forget,” he remarked, relieved that it was finally over. “Assuming my head doesn’t explode.” His hand slowly rose to his face and he was exhausted by the effort. “Where are we?”

Astraea pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. “Give me a micron to push my brain back in.”

Lazant release his harness and took in a deep breath. “I thought the Cylons already removed that.”

She groaned at his remark then sluggishly slipped out of her harness so she could move closer to the control panel. The throbbing in her head was distorting her vision with each pulse. “Speaking of vegetables, maybe you should check on your girlfriend.”

He glanced back quickly over his shoulder and instantly wished that he hadn’t. It felt as if his brain was sloshing around in his head. “Amy?” he called out as he struggled to stand. The lack of response spurred him on even though his body screamed to sit back down. The passage through the wormhole left him drained. “Amy?” He tried once more as he stumbled into the doorway.

Amy was slouched over in her seat, her arms dangling down toward the floor with only her harness keeping her from toppling. Her hair curtained off her face and the two jackets she wore hid whether or not she was breathing. Lazant frowned when he glanced down and saw something pooling on the metal deck at her feet. Blood.

Instinctively he took a step forward to help and nearly dropped to his knees. His body felt like rubber, but he persisted, grabbing onto anything he could to make his way to her side. He was nearly spent when he finally dropped down into the seat next to her. “Amy?”

He gently eased her back into her seat and put his hands on either side of her head. He frowned once more when he felt something odd in her hair and pulled out a tiny leaf. He barely gave it more than a passing thought as it slipped out of his fingers. He pushed back her hair on the opposite side of her head and discovered the source of the blood. A large gash ran from her temple back into her hair.

“Where are the medical supplies?” he yelled up to the front of the craft.

“We’re on a Cylon cruiser,” Astraea’s voice floated back to him. “The only medical supplies they carry are extra energizers.”

Lazant mumbled a curse. “I need some help back here!” he insisted. “Amy’s unconscious and bleeding pretty badly.” He did a quick check of her vital signs and sighed when he felt a steady beat beneath his fingers. “It looks like she split her head open on the wall panel,” he told Astraea when he saw her stumbling over to them.

“How deep is it?”

He grimaced while uncovering the gash further. “Could be at the bone. There’s too much blood to tell.”

Astraea dropped down hard onto her knees in the seat next to Amy. “Scalp wounds generally are profuse bleeders.” She lightly pressed at the skin around the wound and Amy winced against her touch. “Sorry princess. We might need to find something to seal that, but for now we’d better just bandage it.” She turned to sit down and reached for the hem of her robe.

“Maybe we should look for something now,” Lazant countered. “She’s losing a lot of blood.”

As she tugged in vain at her garment material, Astraea’s eyes narrowed. Was this a test? Was he trying to find out the extent of her medical knowledge? Or trying to confirm a procedure learned from another captive? She sighed heavily and tossed down the intact hem. She was in no shape for games at the moment. “Do you really want to go poking around her skull with a Cylon finite laser that we have no clue how to operate and isn’t even designed for that sort of thing?”

He gave her a long look and sensed that she was holding something back. “Do you really expect me to believe that you don’t know how to use it?”

Astraea froze. It was a test! “The Cylons didn’t exactly give me a grand tour of their facilities,” she returned evasively then gestured down to her robe. “See if you can rip off a strip to bandage your girlfriend’s head. I can’t even get it started.”

Lazant kept his eyes on Astraea as he slowly went down on one knee. He simply didn’t trust her. “Just for the record, Amy is not my girlfriend. We were on a mission together and barely managed to escape with our lives.” He gave a sharp tug on the hem of her robe and it ripped easily. “Others in our party weren’t so lucky.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You got your entire party killed and lobotomized your girlfriend?” She clicked her tongue as she slowly shook her head. “You’re going to have to do one major song and dance in your report to get out of this one,” she said flippantly.

“What is it with you?” he snapped back as he pulled off the last of the strip and stood to bandage Amy’s head. “You just automatically assume that I did something to get them killed?”

Astraea folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve seen you shoot.”

[Astraea]

“You’re really some piece of work,” he returned, his anger restoring his strength. “How in Hades did you ever become a Colonial Warrior?”

Astraea rubbed at the back of her neck as she remembered the woefully understaffed ranks when the Callisto joined the fleet. They took anyone willing to sit in a cockpit. “Desperation,” she admitted and stood to help him with Amy. She pressed the edges of the gash on Amy’s scalp together while Lazant wrapped the makeshift bandage around her head.

“That’s got to be the understatement of the centuron.” He jerked at the knot to secure the bandage with more force than necessary and Amy groaned. “Did you at least manage to find out where we are after your brilliant move going down the wormhole?”

A smile eased up on her lips. She hadn’t heard anyone that snippy since the Gugare woman had moved into her cell with her tongue-lashed husband. After the woman’s visit with the extractor, her husband had become the happiest man Astraea ever shared a cell with. “You’re going to be a fun travel companion.” She reached down to rub her bloody fingers against her white robe. “We’re in Quadrant 165-397-3.”

He shook his head briefly at her response. “Is that supposed to be coordinates?”

She shrugged. “Cylon coordinates. The computer isn’t exactly set up for Colonial use.”

“Spare me the lecture on Cylon technology. Just figure out a way to translate the…” The reverberating sound of a warning bell coming from the cockpit ended their argument.

“That’s the proximity alert,” Astraea explained as she started back to the cabin with Lazant on her heels. She dropped down into the pilot’s seat and punched up the alert status. “It’s a ship.”

Lazant stared out the front view screens at the long, nearly cylindrical ship that they were approaching. “Maybe they can get us back on course.”

Astraea’s brows drew together as she studied the report. “I’m not picking up any life signs.”

“Could they be in stasis?” he asked hopefully.

She slowly shook her head. “Energy readings are at minimal.”

There was an uncertain tone in her voice that made him turn to her. “But?”

“These readings don’t make any sense,” she explained. “It looks like a single ship, but the data suggests that there are multiple ships locked together.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked back out into space. As they continued to approach, he could make out the humped design of the ship. “You know if you were to break those arches apart they almost look like…” His voice trailed off and he locked eyes with Astraea.

“Cylon Raiders,” she finished for him.

[Astraea]

A soft beep sounded from the equipment and Astraea responded with the appropriate commands. “We’ve got an incoming transmission.”

Lazant’s mouth dropped open slight in surprise. “Let’s hear it.”

“This is C463 Command Centurion. Halt and identify,” the monotone voice ordered.

Astraea switched off the auto-pilot and allowed the ship to drift in random fashion. “Maybe they will think all on board are incapacitated.”

He ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to think. “Not with my luck,” he mumbled. “They’re probably running a scan on us right now. How many Raiders are we looking at?”

The Cylon hail repeated as Astraea checked the instruments. “Looks like…twenty-six.” She peered up at him as he leaned over her shoulder. “With them tethered together, one sweep overhead could take them all out.”

“But why are they tethered together,” he said softly as he continued to stare out at the ships.

“Who cares? They’re Cylon. We’re Colonial Warriors.”

He shook his head as he continued to ponder. “I’ve never seen Raiders do that before,” he thought aloud completely ignoring her assertion. “It’s almost as if…they’re banding together to survive.”

“We can take care of that,” she returned and reached for the weapon control, but Lazant grabbed her wrist.

“Something’s not right here,” he said almost wistfully before looking down at her. “What was the last agro-community to be taken onboard the Basestar?”

“What?”

“Where did the last group of prisoners hail from?” he reiterated sternly.

She shook her head in confusion for a micron before the answer came to her. “Ben’Galie.”

Lazant nodded once as he formulated a plan. “Lock on weapons, but do not fire.” His eyes bored into hers as he released her arm. “Am I understood Lieutenant?”

She let out a small burst of air at the sudden change in him. “Does anyone really understand you Lazant?” she countered.

“Just do it, Lieutenant, and open a channel.” He tried to collect his thoughts as she flipped switches. Since he wasn’t sure what the various controls were for, he could only hope that she was actually following orders…and that his gambit would pay off. “This is Sire Lazant of Ben’Galie,” he announced when Astraea signaled him that com channels were open. “We have locked our weapons on your location. Do not power up or we will destroy you. Do not activate your weapons or we will destroy you. Do not sever your tethers or we will destroy you. Am I understood Command Centurion?”

There was a long pause and Astraea stared up at Lazant. She wasn’t sure if she admired his gall or was disgusted by his stupidity. They had just alerted dozens of Raiders that they were ready to attack.

“Affirmative,” came the monotone reply.

“Great. So now what?” Astraea asked as she folded her arms over her chest. “Should we invite them over to dinner? I’m sure I could probably whip up a nuts and bolts meal.”

“With the nuts coming from your own head, no doubt,” he countered.

“I’m not the one who alerted the only Cylon Raiders in the galaxy to our presence.”

“Unless you’ve suddenly discovered how to convert Cylon coordinates into Colonial terminology, they’re also the only ones in the galaxy who can help us.”

Astraea chuckled. “Why would Cylons want to help us even to avoid their own destruction?”

Lazant wiped a hand over his face and tried to blot out Astraea’s existence from his thoughts. That woman could be more distracting than a herd of Borays. He sighed heavily as he stared out at the looming ships and wondered for a moment which one the Command Centurion occupied. He gestured for Astraea to open the com line once more. “We are having trouble reading your navigation charts. All we want to do is return home. If you help us, we will give you the coordinates to your Basestar.”

“We do not want to return to the Basestar.”

He shook his head slightly at the unexpected response. “You don’t want to return to your assigned unit?”

“No.”

He was so surprised that he pressed further. “Aren’t you programmed to return to your duty station?”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t want to return?”

“No. We do not want to return to the Basestar.”

It was a stalemate. Without something to offer in exchange for assistance, their only other option was to attack and risk taking on the entire squadron in a ship with limited firing capabilities.

Astraea took the control stick in her hand. “Shall I start the barbeque?”

[Astraea]

Lazant tapped his fingers against his lips. One rogue Cylon was rare, but to see so many ships locked together he could only assume that all of the centurions were rogue. “Could the wormhole have affected their programming?” he asked.

Astraea shrugged her shoulders. As far as she was concerned, the only use she had for a centurion was for an ashtray. “It’s possible, I guess, but what difference does it make?”

“Don’t you get it?” he asked in aggravation. “These centurions are defying their programming. They have decided not to return to their assigned station.”

“So what?” she countered. “You think they’ve suddenly developed a conscious? They’re Cylons.” She moved her fingers in the air using Piscon sign language to spell out Cylon.

“Maybe they can be negotiated with,” he argued.

She leaned closer to him, her expression one of disbelief. “You want to negotiate with a Cylon?” She glanced back at the door as she thought of Amy in the next room. “That’s how you got captured, isn’t it?” she stated rather than asked. “What did you do? Stick a gun in her hands?” Her voice rose as she gestured back to where Amy still lay unconscious. “Is that why she went directly to the extractor instead of the cell?”

Lazant’s face flushed. He wasn’t about to explain to her why he had made certain decisions. He would have to do enough of that with Commander Sheba and, he cringed, Colonel Charybdis. Returning with the colonel’s lobotomized fiancée wouldn’t score him any points. “Contrary to what you may believe, Lieutenant, there are ways out of situations other than annihilation.”

“You did! You got her fried!”

“That’s enough Lieutenant.”

“Cut the Lieutenant felgercarb. I don’t answer to you or anyone else and haven’t for a very long time.”

“You’re going to answer to Commander Sheba during your court-martial for disobeying a senior officer.”

Astraea drew in a sharp breath. Commander Sheba. That had been one detail that the Cylons had overlooked. In their arrogance, it had never occurred to them that a woman could be in command of a Battlestar. They had always chosen Adama, Apollo or Starbuck to be in command and to use their likenesses to persuade her.

She rubbed at the back of her neck as she eased back in her seat. This has to be a ploy of some kind. They must have captured warriors from the Callisto. She looked up at Lazant with a new eye. Had he been telling the truth about the mission? Were he and Amy the only ones caught? Or were their images just being used to confuse her?

Lazant sighed heavily, relieved that Astraea had finally settled down. “Turn on the Unicom,” he instructed with a much calmer voice. He saw her reach out and flip the switch without question and he straightened instinctively at finally gaining the upper hand. “If you don’t want to return to your basestar, then what do you want in exchange for assistance?”

“Coordinates to the nearest habitable planet,” the centurion replied.

Lazant’s eyes narrowed. “To do what? Conquer?”

“Live.”

[Astraea]

Astraea chuckled as she rubbed at her tired eyes. “Now I know I’m dreaming.”

“If you are than I am too,” Lazant whispered as his heart leapt. A Cylon centurion concerned with living? It was unprecedented. “What sort of planet are you looking for?” he prodded gently.

“Our needs are minimal,” the centurion replied.

He waited for more, but the Cylon didn’t go on to explain. “Since we’re having trouble reading the navigation charts, we seem to have a bit of a quandary.”

“I can access your navigation charts from here by linking into your system.”

“They can also disable our ship from remote if we allow them the link up,” Astraea warned.

Lazant’s eyes danced as his mind raced. Would it actually be possible to form an alliance, even a temporary one, with a Cylon? That sort of trust had cost them their home worlds. Would it also cost them their lives? Or would he be the first to establish contact with a small outcropping of Cylons that may one day become a valuable ally? “Will you give us your word that you won’t destroy us once you have entered our system?”

“What is word?” the centurion asked.

“A promise,” Lazant explained, ignoring Astraea’s chuckle.

“What is a promise?”

“This could go on awhile,” Astraea mumbled.

Lazant growled low in his throat at her. “All I’m saying is that, you get what you want, we get what we want and then we go our separate ways. You don’t do anything to our ship and we won’t do anything to yours.”

There was a long silence. “You have word.”

“You can’t seriously be considering this,” Astraea finally questioned.

“Do you have a better option?”

“Yeah. We blast them out of the sky and figure the navigation system out for ourselves.”

He slowly shook his head as he stared out at the ships. “You’re missing the bigger picture. What if we can actually get some Cylons as allies?”

Her brows drew together as she gaped at him. “Didn’t someone already try that once? Oh yeah, I think his name was Baltar.”

Lazant shot her a venomous look. “When I want your opinion, Lieutenant, I’ll ask for it. In the mean time, open up a channel to allow localized access to the navigation system only.”

“Do you realize how fast one computer can talk to another computer? That centurion can make several thousand computations in a micron. He can reroute through the nav computer and disarm our weapons before we even conclude this conversation.”

“The conversation is already over. Open a channel.”

She shook her head once more as she followed orders. “And I’m the crazy one,” she mumbled.

“Command Centurion,” Lazant said with more assuredness than he felt. “You now have access to our nav computer.”

Instantly the monitors in the cockpit sprang to life with dozens of star charts flickering by in the blink of an eye. Mere microns later, the screen froze. “Our current location is displayed,” the centurion explained. “Colonial deciphering module has been activated.”

Astraea looked up at her companion. “I guess he didn’t buy the whole ‘sire’ thing.”

[Amy81]

Amy sat back, enjoying the sun as its rays warmed her face. At this rate I’ll have a nice tan, she thought. Hmm, just what is a tan anyway? At her side sat a six-pack of Ambrosia Coolers, two of which were already long gone. She picked up a third and popped it open, taking a long drink.

“I thought three of those were for me?” a voice from behind her asked. She turned to look at Charybdis, smiling as he sat down next to her on the blanket. Before them stretched the countryside, beautiful and unblemished.

“There’s still three left” she replied.

“You know” Charybdis said, “You’ll have to go back eventually.”

“Frack that” Amy said. “I’m staying right here.”

“I’ve seen your hand. It’s getting worse.” Charybdis made a move to reach for it, and Amy pulled away, then relented and held it up. Her fingers had begun to resemble celery, and the greenish tint was now spreading down her hand.

“Depends on how you look at it” Amy replied. “When there’s enough there I’ll try to light it up. Maybe I’ll have my own supply of plant vapors.”

Charybdis shook his head. “You can’t stay here. Besides, you barely have one memory of me. I’m not exactly dressed for this kind of setting.” Amy smiled. He wasn’t exactly dressed at all.

Just then the whole world seemed to tip. Amy’s hands went to her head as she felt a sharp pain. Somewhere she thought she heard a voice echoing, “Bleeders...” She shook it off, closing her eyes until the voices began to fade. “Not my girlfriend…” Was that Lazant’s voice? After a moment it faded into silence. “Lazant” Amy thought. “Get out of here Lazant!”

When she opened her eyes again, Charybdis and the countryside were gone. “Frack” she muttered, and began to concentrate. Gradually the countryside reappeared. But it wasn’t the same. “It never is”, she grumbled. She reimagined the six-pack, and after a micron it appeared beside her. “It’ll probably taste like thruster fuel this time.”

She looked around, seeing herself still alone. “Time for the best part” she said, and began to conjure up her one remaining memory of Charybdis.

[Astraea]

Lazant ignored her comment as he leaned over her shoulder. “Do a quick search of the charts the centurion downloaded and see if you can get a fix on the planet they have selected.”

Astraea chuckled once more at the absurdity of the situation. She was curious to know how far it would go before the Cylons finally gave up. “Why don’t you just ask your buddy C463? The two of you have become such fast friends that I’m sure he won’t mind disclosing their future home world. So you can drop in for a visit,” she added quickly.

“Spare me your flippa…”

“Yo!” Astraea said into the Unicom. “Command Centurion.”

“What in Hades are you doing?” Lazant squeaked out in a strained whisper.

“What’s the coordinates of the planet you’re going to?” she asked. Microns later, the star chart came up on their navigation screen with a flashing light over one of the planets in the solar system.

Lazant’s mouth fell open. “I don’t believe it,” he breathed.

Astraea shrugged. “You never know unless you ask.” She couldn’t believe the stupidity. What could they hope to gain? She wasn’t about to reveal anything pertinent especially now that she knew that they were just toying with her. “Hey, C4 babe,” she said back into the Unicom. “We’re in need of medical supplies and maybe some food. Think the planet you’re heading to may be of service?”

“According to previous scouting reports, the surface is largely vegetative.”

“Well isn't that lucky!” she beamed. “It looks like our every wish is going to get granted this trip,” she said to Lazant who was stunned into silence, his mouth still agape. Astraea leaned her elbow against the control panel to get closer to the Unicom. “You know Cy….Do you mind if I call you Cy?” She didn’t bother to wait for a response. “Since we’re all alone in the galaxy here, would you mind if we tagged along with you to this miracle planet? We’ll just pop in to get a few supplies and then be on our way.”

“The vegetation does not concern us.”

“A bit of a cryptic response, but we’ll take that as a yes.” Astraea switched off the Unicom and turned in her seat to look up at her companion. “There you go Captain. Here’s the opportunity to prove your greatness. Maybe one day you can even lead the Cylon Empire to the fleet for peace negotiation and your name will be famous. Or is that infamous?”

Lazant slowly descended into the copilot’s seat. “I need a drink.”