Our Stars Scattered Like Dust (9/11)
Title: Our Stars Scattered Like Dust (9/11)
Authors: icedteainthebag and wishflsinfl
Characters/pairings: Adama/Roslin, Kara/Lee, Gaius/Caprica, other assorted affairs, ensemble cast
Rating: MA (graphic sex)
Warnings: AU, Character death
Spoilers: through Daybreak
Summary: As the new bartender on the cruise ship Galactica Bill Adama is hoping for an uneventful first voyage, but his life is irrevocably changed when he meets cruise director Laura Roslin.
A/N: There may be food involved. Thank you to fragrantwoods and somadanne for their invaluable beta assistance. Also thanks to the folks at bsg_checkin for cheerleading.
Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven
*
Bill hurried through the door of the captain's quarters, running a hand through his hair. Ellen was sitting at her desk and took a glance at her watch.
"Nice to see you, Bill. And your undone belt."
He grabbed his belt buckle and kept eye contact with her, smirking a bit as he fastened it.
"I'm guessing that wasn't from a quick stop in the loo on the way up."
"Not quite." He walked over and took the chair in front of her, his thighs aching.
"You're six minutes late."
He grabbed a breath mint from the bowl to her left. "I never come early." He unwrapped the candy and popped it in his mouth. "Except that one time."
They burst into laughter.
"It's like we're not even under siege, here," Ellen said, wiping a tear from her eye. "Frakkin' asshole."
Bill nodded, then took a deep breath to settle himself. He was flying high-the post-orgasmic adrenaline rush from Laura, the equivalently exciting prospect of a new life-threatening mission. It was as if his life suddenly had purpose. The significance of that wasn't lost on him, but he reserved further thought on it for later.
"We're sending over a crate of rations that the frakkin' pirates requested. The story is that it's taken Chef Romo several hours to compile everything they wanted."
"They wanted our food?"
"Food and hygiene items. In particular, they requested Kraft Macaroni & Cheese and all the soap we had."
"I don't even want to know. So … I'm hiding in the box?"
Ellen laughed. "You've gone amateur, Bill. I know it's been years, but …" She flipped open the crate. It was filled to the brim with Kraft boxes, Ramen noodle cups, and many kinds of shower gels and soaps. "As soon as the rations are seated deep within the hull of the pirates' ship, I'll detonate the remote weapon. It's a small bomb that will cause minimal damage yet leak a noxious gas that Chef Romo has gathered from the exhaust of the crewmen's lavatory."
"Jesus, poor Romo," Bill said.
Ellen shrugged. "Okay, actually, it's just pepper spray."
"Right." Bill picked up a box of Kraft and shook it; he always liked the sound. "But that's just the theatrics to distract from my mission."
Ellen walked over to a large duffel bag and unzipped it. She reached in and hefted out a bulky, black wetsuit.
"You up for a late night swim, Adama?"
*
Laura had left Gaius in charge of the next afternoon's activities-a prime and coveted spot in the world of activities directors. Gaius was taking pride in his newfound responsibilities-it was obvious to him that Laura finally trusted him as her willing protégé. Perhaps she was even prepping him to take over for her when she retired. There were rumors that they were bringing in Mindy Starr from Cloud9 but Gaius doubted Laura would allow that. Not after the incident with the mechanical bull at last year's company picnic.
No matter. He wouldn't think about that right now. He needed to focus on making sure everything was in place for his moment in the sun. Gaius had worked long and hard to build Laura's trust and there was no way he was going to frak it up now.
"Where are we going?" Caprica asked him as he led her through the ship's main dining room. The tables had been cleared and prepped for the midnight buffet, which Gaius had learned from the daily activities journal was a Mardi Gras theme, complete with bead throwing, jambalaya, and alcoholic slushies.
"I need to get a few things for tomorrow, my sweet," he said. He opened the swinging door to the galley and let her go first, as gentlemen do. She looked around wordlessly and he worried that he might be boring her. It was no matter. This would take but fifteen minutes and then they'd have the rest of the evening to themselves. Preferably in the ship's rear-deck hot tub. With the Mardi Gras buffet in full swing there was no chance anyone would come upon them.
"Romo?" Gaius called. The kitchen was eerily quiet and that dastardly cat Lance was sleeping sprawled out upon a stainless steel countertop. "Chef Romo, are you here?"
"My vessel is here," Gaius heard from a storage closet, "but my spirit is gone."
Gaius walked up to closet and put his hand on the handle. "Are you-"
"Don't!" Romo cried from within. "Don't open it. I can't bear for you to see."
"What is wrong with him?" Caprica asked.
"He does this sometimes," Gaius murmured. He cleared his throat. "Romo, I was just coming by to confirm my standing order for tomorrow afternoon's activities."
Gaius had ordered twenty-six gallons of Kraft macaroni and cheese be made and placed into two baby pools for what he was sure would be the crowning event achievement of the cruise: Bikini Macaroni Wrestling.
"Sir, I am afraid I cannot fulfill your request." Gaius then was subject to a longer-than-necessary stint of sobbing and what sounded like Romo pounding something. "The captain gave those frakkin' pirates every last box. My shelves are empty. My soul …"
"Is empty. I get it. Drat," Gaius said with a heaving sigh, aggravated beyond belief.
"Why would the pirates want macaroni and cheese?" Caprica asked.
As inquisitive as she is beautiful, Gaius thought.
"I don't know!" Romo exclaimed, his voice wavering with frustration. "All I know is that she's sending it over in a crate with a pepper spray bomb to create a distraction so that Bartender Bill can attach limpet mines to the bottom of the ship and blow it up."
"Sweet Asses of Kobol," Gaius said. He looked at Caprica, who looked nothing short of stunned. "I have to tell Laura."
"Don't tell Laura!" Romo cried. "My shame."
"I must," Gaius said. "Tomorrow's afternoon activities will be canceled and she'll need to know why."
Gaius and Caprica walked away from the weeping chef. "I apologize, love, but I'm going to have to delay our rendezvous tonight until I get in contact with Laura and tell her what's happening."
Caprica put her arm around his waist, slowing him down for a long, lingering kiss. Their lips parted and he stroked her arm. "I am sorry."
"It's fine, Gaius," she said, pressing her lips against his forehead. "There's something I need to do tonight."
Gaius immediately felt jealous. Of course he wasn't the only one-a beautiful woman like her. "Are you seeing someone else?" he asked, kissing the ridge of her defined jawline.
"Yes, but not for what you think." She held him tightly for a moment longer, then pulled away with a smile that he could only interpret as sad.
As she walked away, he wondered if he would see her later. Tonight was going down the shitter faster than a seven dollar whore in a hurry. Whistling, he walked to the crew elevator and took it down to the third level of the ship. He strolled to Laura's door and knocked. There was no answer, which he found entirely puzzling as Laura had no social life. Perhaps she had passed out, yet another night off victimized by her bottle habit. He tried to ignore her little problem and was in constant amazement of how it never seemed to impact her professional life. She was always polished on the job, always perfect.
After another hard knock, Gaius pulled out a bar receipt and a pen from his pocket and scribbled a hasty note to her. He slipped the note into the small slot behind her cabin room number, hoping she'd get it whenever she arrived back at her room.
Perhaps he'd go to the hot tub by himself; maybe he'd find another lady, though he knew he'd never find one as sexy as the lovely Caprica. Maybe he didn't want to find another. Maybe she was all he ever needed.
Maybe Gaius Baltar, Love Doctor was incurably in love.
*
Laura returned to her room after her date with Bill, her body humming with satisfaction but her mind whirring with the possibilities behind his need to be gone so quickly after they'd been together. He had so many secrets. She did too, but she was becoming increasingly tired of keeping them and of knowing only peripheral facts about the man who kept stunning her, night after night.
Tonight she'd felt something real. It was time to stop avoiding it, as frightening as the potential attachment seemed.
Laura noticed a small piece of paper tucked into her mail slot and pulled it out. A familiar chicken scratch.
"Bill … boring Pilates stripper … and …" She tried reading it again, squinting her eyes.
Bill blowing up pirate ship and all Kraft macaroni for afternoon program. Will post a sign.
"Oh, shit," Laura breathed, dropping the note and racing down the hallway.
*
Bill stood on the deck of the cargo hold, barefoot, his body snugly wrapped in the black wetsuit. He looked down again, surprised to see how much weight he'd lost. There was a silver lining to everything.
"You ready?" Ellen asked him.
Bill slung his spear gun over his shoulder. He had a frakking spear gun. He never thought he'd see the day.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
Ellen turned to him, a rare serious look on her face. "No heroics, okay? Just get the job done and get out."
"Yes, ma'am." He was surprised to see a tear roll down her cheek. He swiped it away with his thumb. "Thank you for this."
She nodded and gave him a teary smile.
"Hey, no tears. In the worst case I'll just go out with a bang instead of a whimper."
When she didn't have a snappy comeback, he leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips. Pulling away, he swept his eyes across the deck one last time and caught sight of Laura standing with the crewmen waiting to oversee the launch.
The expression on her face was a mix of fury and disappointment. He grinned at her misunderstanding and that only made her madder. She turned to storm out of the hold, but he sprinted after her and caught her just inside the doorway. He set down his spear gun.
"Hey," he said, spinning her around and pulling her into his arms. "C'mere."
"Frak-"
He didn't have time to explain so he let his body do the talking, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss while his arms pulled her close. Someone let out a wolf whistle but Bill only deepened the kiss, tangling his hands in Laura's hair as her arms came around him in a crushing hug.
Frankly, he didn't care who was watching. There was a chance he wouldn't come back from this mission and he wasn't going to leave Laura behind, wondering how he felt about her.
When he finally pulled away, they stared at each other for a moment, panting.
"Have a safe … mission," she said, her palm cupping his cheek.
"You're supposed to say 'good hunting.'"
"Mmmmm." Now she was getting all teary-eyed too.
Bill sighed and stepped back. "I have to go."
She nodded, wrapping her arms around her body. "Go."
Slinging his spear gun over his back, he turned toward the open bay of the hold where the launch was waiting. One last mission. One last chance to prove himself.
*
Ellen was to detonate the bomb in the crate in exactly five minutes and ring him on the wall phone so he could enter the water amid the distraction. He was sitting alongside a receiving port aft with a rope ladder at the ready for his eventual ascent back into Galactica. Heart racing, thoughts of whether or not his body could handle what he was about to do threatened to disable his confidence. There was no if he could do it.
He had to do it.
The limpet mines were heavy in the pack on his stomach; easy access was imperative. He'd only have a short time-a matter of minutes, to play it safe-to plant them on the pirates' ship undetected. Then his plan was to high-tail it back home within the ten-minute countdown to limpet mine detonation.
Something like this was old hat to him by now. He just hadn't done anything like it in the past twenty years.
Three minutes to go before he expected Ellen's cue. To keep his confidence from wavering he began to think about Laura. He'd told her nothing of the mission but somehow she'd found out about it. Thoughts of their kiss calmed him and actually enlivened his senses. Everything was so quiet, but he could hear the gentle knocking of waves against metal, beckoning him in. They were dangerously seductive, reminiscent of his first night on the ship, the first time Laura had touched his hand. It seemed like a lifetime ago for a man who had lived many lives.
As much as he was doing this for the ship, he was doing this for her.
He picked up the ringing phone.
"Husker, this is Bobcat. Do you copy?"
Bill smiled at Ellen's use of their old call signs. "Husker here."
"Whaddya hear?"
He listened, watching the darkened form of the pirate ship for activity. "Nothin' but the waves."
"Then good hunting. We'll see you back soon."
Bill hung up, then put on his night-vision diving mask. He adjusted his regulator, checked his tank, and then toed up to the edge with his flippers. Inflating his BCD, he eyed the water's surface, then looked up and closed his eyes.
He stepped off the edge, the feeling of free fall sending his adrenaline soaring by the time he hit the chilly depths below.
Shaking off the initial shock of impact and temperature, he adjusted his BCD and descended below the surface, then took off in a fast swim to the pirate's ship, one hundred yards away and unsuspecting of his arrival.
*
Ellen watched anxiously from Galactica's bridge, expecting a reaction from the pirate ship in retaliation for the pepper spray bomb. But so far there was nothing, not even an evac onto the decks, which was entirely disheartening.
"What's going on?" Laura joined her to peer out the window at the darkened ship.
"Not much of anything," Ellen said. "And that's what worries me."
Suddenly, light flooded the pirate's bridge. "The lights are on … but is anybody home?" Ellen murmured, taking out her binoculars and bringing them to her eyes.
Ear-splitting white noise came over the wireless , followed by silence and then a voice.
"Captain Tigh, are you there?"
It was John, the pirate captain. She picked up the handset. "Tigh speaking. Over."
"We wanted to thank you for the macaroni and cheese," John said. Ellen immediately felt the hair bristle at the back of her neck. Something wasn't right. "Next time, hold the pepper."
"Frak," Ellen growled, tight fisted.
"Before we indulge in our spoils-which, rest assured, will be a lot more than boxed pasta-I'd like to use this opportunity to try out something I've developed. Counterterrorism measures, I call them. Look down to the water."
Ellen's brow furrowed, her mouth dry, as she followed his instructions.
Beneath the surface, she instantly saw them.
"Raider sharks."
*
Bill estimated he was nearly halfway to the pirate ship and kicking ass when he began to hear muted gunfire from the air above. There were bright flashes that indicated something more was going on than a nightly fireworks show off the starboard bow.
He began swimming faster when he saw a glint of red out of the corner of his eye.
He came to a halt and turned to look, squinting through the dark water. It was definitely a red light, traveling back and forth along a line, on the front of a … something that took the form of a shark.
From around the back of the pirate ship came another, then another.
Somehow the pirates had found out about the mission and employed a counterattack.
Bill froze, one hand on his spear gun-he didn't know what they were, if they had ammunition, or if they could be disabled by something as low tech as a spear. They were swimming slowly toward him, circling each other and then gathering in a triangle formation, those red lights hypnotic.
And they were getting too close.
Authors: icedteainthebag and wishflsinfl
Characters/pairings: Adama/Roslin, Kara/Lee, Gaius/Caprica, other assorted affairs, ensemble cast
Rating: MA (graphic sex)
Warnings: AU, Character death
Spoilers: through Daybreak
Summary: As the new bartender on the cruise ship Galactica Bill Adama is hoping for an uneventful first voyage, but his life is irrevocably changed when he meets cruise director Laura Roslin.
A/N: There may be food involved. Thank you to fragrantwoods and somadanne for their invaluable beta assistance. Also thanks to the folks at bsg_checkin for cheerleading.
Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven
*
Bill hurried through the door of the captain's quarters, running a hand through his hair. Ellen was sitting at her desk and took a glance at her watch.
"Nice to see you, Bill. And your undone belt."
He grabbed his belt buckle and kept eye contact with her, smirking a bit as he fastened it.
"I'm guessing that wasn't from a quick stop in the loo on the way up."
"Not quite." He walked over and took the chair in front of her, his thighs aching.
"You're six minutes late."
He grabbed a breath mint from the bowl to her left. "I never come early." He unwrapped the candy and popped it in his mouth. "Except that one time."
They burst into laughter.
"It's like we're not even under siege, here," Ellen said, wiping a tear from her eye. "Frakkin' asshole."
Bill nodded, then took a deep breath to settle himself. He was flying high-the post-orgasmic adrenaline rush from Laura, the equivalently exciting prospect of a new life-threatening mission. It was as if his life suddenly had purpose. The significance of that wasn't lost on him, but he reserved further thought on it for later.
"We're sending over a crate of rations that the frakkin' pirates requested. The story is that it's taken Chef Romo several hours to compile everything they wanted."
"They wanted our food?"
"Food and hygiene items. In particular, they requested Kraft Macaroni & Cheese and all the soap we had."
"I don't even want to know. So … I'm hiding in the box?"
Ellen laughed. "You've gone amateur, Bill. I know it's been years, but …" She flipped open the crate. It was filled to the brim with Kraft boxes, Ramen noodle cups, and many kinds of shower gels and soaps. "As soon as the rations are seated deep within the hull of the pirates' ship, I'll detonate the remote weapon. It's a small bomb that will cause minimal damage yet leak a noxious gas that Chef Romo has gathered from the exhaust of the crewmen's lavatory."
"Jesus, poor Romo," Bill said.
Ellen shrugged. "Okay, actually, it's just pepper spray."
"Right." Bill picked up a box of Kraft and shook it; he always liked the sound. "But that's just the theatrics to distract from my mission."
Ellen walked over to a large duffel bag and unzipped it. She reached in and hefted out a bulky, black wetsuit.
"You up for a late night swim, Adama?"
*
Laura had left Gaius in charge of the next afternoon's activities-a prime and coveted spot in the world of activities directors. Gaius was taking pride in his newfound responsibilities-it was obvious to him that Laura finally trusted him as her willing protégé. Perhaps she was even prepping him to take over for her when she retired. There were rumors that they were bringing in Mindy Starr from Cloud9 but Gaius doubted Laura would allow that. Not after the incident with the mechanical bull at last year's company picnic.
No matter. He wouldn't think about that right now. He needed to focus on making sure everything was in place for his moment in the sun. Gaius had worked long and hard to build Laura's trust and there was no way he was going to frak it up now.
"Where are we going?" Caprica asked him as he led her through the ship's main dining room. The tables had been cleared and prepped for the midnight buffet, which Gaius had learned from the daily activities journal was a Mardi Gras theme, complete with bead throwing, jambalaya, and alcoholic slushies.
"I need to get a few things for tomorrow, my sweet," he said. He opened the swinging door to the galley and let her go first, as gentlemen do. She looked around wordlessly and he worried that he might be boring her. It was no matter. This would take but fifteen minutes and then they'd have the rest of the evening to themselves. Preferably in the ship's rear-deck hot tub. With the Mardi Gras buffet in full swing there was no chance anyone would come upon them.
"Romo?" Gaius called. The kitchen was eerily quiet and that dastardly cat Lance was sleeping sprawled out upon a stainless steel countertop. "Chef Romo, are you here?"
"My vessel is here," Gaius heard from a storage closet, "but my spirit is gone."
Gaius walked up to closet and put his hand on the handle. "Are you-"
"Don't!" Romo cried from within. "Don't open it. I can't bear for you to see."
"What is wrong with him?" Caprica asked.
"He does this sometimes," Gaius murmured. He cleared his throat. "Romo, I was just coming by to confirm my standing order for tomorrow afternoon's activities."
Gaius had ordered twenty-six gallons of Kraft macaroni and cheese be made and placed into two baby pools for what he was sure would be the crowning event achievement of the cruise: Bikini Macaroni Wrestling.
"Sir, I am afraid I cannot fulfill your request." Gaius then was subject to a longer-than-necessary stint of sobbing and what sounded like Romo pounding something. "The captain gave those frakkin' pirates every last box. My shelves are empty. My soul …"
"Is empty. I get it. Drat," Gaius said with a heaving sigh, aggravated beyond belief.
"Why would the pirates want macaroni and cheese?" Caprica asked.
As inquisitive as she is beautiful, Gaius thought.
"I don't know!" Romo exclaimed, his voice wavering with frustration. "All I know is that she's sending it over in a crate with a pepper spray bomb to create a distraction so that Bartender Bill can attach limpet mines to the bottom of the ship and blow it up."
"Sweet Asses of Kobol," Gaius said. He looked at Caprica, who looked nothing short of stunned. "I have to tell Laura."
"Don't tell Laura!" Romo cried. "My shame."
"I must," Gaius said. "Tomorrow's afternoon activities will be canceled and she'll need to know why."
Gaius and Caprica walked away from the weeping chef. "I apologize, love, but I'm going to have to delay our rendezvous tonight until I get in contact with Laura and tell her what's happening."
Caprica put her arm around his waist, slowing him down for a long, lingering kiss. Their lips parted and he stroked her arm. "I am sorry."
"It's fine, Gaius," she said, pressing her lips against his forehead. "There's something I need to do tonight."
Gaius immediately felt jealous. Of course he wasn't the only one-a beautiful woman like her. "Are you seeing someone else?" he asked, kissing the ridge of her defined jawline.
"Yes, but not for what you think." She held him tightly for a moment longer, then pulled away with a smile that he could only interpret as sad.
As she walked away, he wondered if he would see her later. Tonight was going down the shitter faster than a seven dollar whore in a hurry. Whistling, he walked to the crew elevator and took it down to the third level of the ship. He strolled to Laura's door and knocked. There was no answer, which he found entirely puzzling as Laura had no social life. Perhaps she had passed out, yet another night off victimized by her bottle habit. He tried to ignore her little problem and was in constant amazement of how it never seemed to impact her professional life. She was always polished on the job, always perfect.
After another hard knock, Gaius pulled out a bar receipt and a pen from his pocket and scribbled a hasty note to her. He slipped the note into the small slot behind her cabin room number, hoping she'd get it whenever she arrived back at her room.
Perhaps he'd go to the hot tub by himself; maybe he'd find another lady, though he knew he'd never find one as sexy as the lovely Caprica. Maybe he didn't want to find another. Maybe she was all he ever needed.
Maybe Gaius Baltar, Love Doctor was incurably in love.
*
Laura returned to her room after her date with Bill, her body humming with satisfaction but her mind whirring with the possibilities behind his need to be gone so quickly after they'd been together. He had so many secrets. She did too, but she was becoming increasingly tired of keeping them and of knowing only peripheral facts about the man who kept stunning her, night after night.
Tonight she'd felt something real. It was time to stop avoiding it, as frightening as the potential attachment seemed.
Laura noticed a small piece of paper tucked into her mail slot and pulled it out. A familiar chicken scratch.
"Bill … boring Pilates stripper … and …" She tried reading it again, squinting her eyes.
Bill blowing up pirate ship and all Kraft macaroni for afternoon program. Will post a sign.
"Oh, shit," Laura breathed, dropping the note and racing down the hallway.
*
Bill stood on the deck of the cargo hold, barefoot, his body snugly wrapped in the black wetsuit. He looked down again, surprised to see how much weight he'd lost. There was a silver lining to everything.
"You ready?" Ellen asked him.
Bill slung his spear gun over his shoulder. He had a frakking spear gun. He never thought he'd see the day.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
Ellen turned to him, a rare serious look on her face. "No heroics, okay? Just get the job done and get out."
"Yes, ma'am." He was surprised to see a tear roll down her cheek. He swiped it away with his thumb. "Thank you for this."
She nodded and gave him a teary smile.
"Hey, no tears. In the worst case I'll just go out with a bang instead of a whimper."
When she didn't have a snappy comeback, he leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips. Pulling away, he swept his eyes across the deck one last time and caught sight of Laura standing with the crewmen waiting to oversee the launch.
The expression on her face was a mix of fury and disappointment. He grinned at her misunderstanding and that only made her madder. She turned to storm out of the hold, but he sprinted after her and caught her just inside the doorway. He set down his spear gun.
"Hey," he said, spinning her around and pulling her into his arms. "C'mere."
"Frak-"
He didn't have time to explain so he let his body do the talking, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss while his arms pulled her close. Someone let out a wolf whistle but Bill only deepened the kiss, tangling his hands in Laura's hair as her arms came around him in a crushing hug.
Frankly, he didn't care who was watching. There was a chance he wouldn't come back from this mission and he wasn't going to leave Laura behind, wondering how he felt about her.
When he finally pulled away, they stared at each other for a moment, panting.
"Have a safe … mission," she said, her palm cupping his cheek.
"You're supposed to say 'good hunting.'"
"Mmmmm." Now she was getting all teary-eyed too.
Bill sighed and stepped back. "I have to go."
She nodded, wrapping her arms around her body. "Go."
Slinging his spear gun over his back, he turned toward the open bay of the hold where the launch was waiting. One last mission. One last chance to prove himself.
*
Ellen was to detonate the bomb in the crate in exactly five minutes and ring him on the wall phone so he could enter the water amid the distraction. He was sitting alongside a receiving port aft with a rope ladder at the ready for his eventual ascent back into Galactica. Heart racing, thoughts of whether or not his body could handle what he was about to do threatened to disable his confidence. There was no if he could do it.
He had to do it.
The limpet mines were heavy in the pack on his stomach; easy access was imperative. He'd only have a short time-a matter of minutes, to play it safe-to plant them on the pirates' ship undetected. Then his plan was to high-tail it back home within the ten-minute countdown to limpet mine detonation.
Something like this was old hat to him by now. He just hadn't done anything like it in the past twenty years.
Three minutes to go before he expected Ellen's cue. To keep his confidence from wavering he began to think about Laura. He'd told her nothing of the mission but somehow she'd found out about it. Thoughts of their kiss calmed him and actually enlivened his senses. Everything was so quiet, but he could hear the gentle knocking of waves against metal, beckoning him in. They were dangerously seductive, reminiscent of his first night on the ship, the first time Laura had touched his hand. It seemed like a lifetime ago for a man who had lived many lives.
As much as he was doing this for the ship, he was doing this for her.
He picked up the ringing phone.
"Husker, this is Bobcat. Do you copy?"
Bill smiled at Ellen's use of their old call signs. "Husker here."
"Whaddya hear?"
He listened, watching the darkened form of the pirate ship for activity. "Nothin' but the waves."
"Then good hunting. We'll see you back soon."
Bill hung up, then put on his night-vision diving mask. He adjusted his regulator, checked his tank, and then toed up to the edge with his flippers. Inflating his BCD, he eyed the water's surface, then looked up and closed his eyes.
He stepped off the edge, the feeling of free fall sending his adrenaline soaring by the time he hit the chilly depths below.
Shaking off the initial shock of impact and temperature, he adjusted his BCD and descended below the surface, then took off in a fast swim to the pirate's ship, one hundred yards away and unsuspecting of his arrival.
*
Ellen watched anxiously from Galactica's bridge, expecting a reaction from the pirate ship in retaliation for the pepper spray bomb. But so far there was nothing, not even an evac onto the decks, which was entirely disheartening.
"What's going on?" Laura joined her to peer out the window at the darkened ship.
"Not much of anything," Ellen said. "And that's what worries me."
Suddenly, light flooded the pirate's bridge. "The lights are on … but is anybody home?" Ellen murmured, taking out her binoculars and bringing them to her eyes.
Ear-splitting white noise came over the wireless , followed by silence and then a voice.
"Captain Tigh, are you there?"
It was John, the pirate captain. She picked up the handset. "Tigh speaking. Over."
"We wanted to thank you for the macaroni and cheese," John said. Ellen immediately felt the hair bristle at the back of her neck. Something wasn't right. "Next time, hold the pepper."
"Frak," Ellen growled, tight fisted.
"Before we indulge in our spoils-which, rest assured, will be a lot more than boxed pasta-I'd like to use this opportunity to try out something I've developed. Counterterrorism measures, I call them. Look down to the water."
Ellen's brow furrowed, her mouth dry, as she followed his instructions.
Beneath the surface, she instantly saw them.
"Raider sharks."
*
Bill estimated he was nearly halfway to the pirate ship and kicking ass when he began to hear muted gunfire from the air above. There were bright flashes that indicated something more was going on than a nightly fireworks show off the starboard bow.
He began swimming faster when he saw a glint of red out of the corner of his eye.
He came to a halt and turned to look, squinting through the dark water. It was definitely a red light, traveling back and forth along a line, on the front of a … something that took the form of a shark.
From around the back of the pirate ship came another, then another.
Somehow the pirates had found out about the mission and employed a counterattack.
Bill froze, one hand on his spear gun-he didn't know what they were, if they had ammunition, or if they could be disabled by something as low tech as a spear. They were swimming slowly toward him, circling each other and then gathering in a triangle formation, those red lights hypnotic.
And they were getting too close.