Fic: Another New Hope 1/?
CROSSOVER WITH STAR WARS. WIP.
Rating: PG
Pairing: gen for this part
Summary: It was a dark time for the Galactic Resistance against the evil of the CYLON EMPIRE. You know the rest.
NOTE: GRATUITOUS RIPPING OFF OF LINES AND SCENES. YES. I KNOW. I APOLOGIZE TO GEORGE LUCAS, FANS OF STAR WARS AND BSG, and everyone else. But it HAD to be done. (though some things are quite different). I hope people enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it, because there's a whole lot more where this came from!
Hopefully, you may find it some consolation after Kara's ignoble defeat. *sniff*
Lee crept through the shadows, hurried and furtive, trying to reach his destination before the enemy captured his ship.
His thoughts were not quite frantic, but certainly ... insistent. Hurry, Lee, hurry up, or we are all frakked. Come on, come on, little friend, where are you?
Then, there it was. Then, with another wary look as the ship rattled, he knelt to insert the chip.
Mission accomplished, he faded back into the shadows to wait, praying to gods he didn't even believe in that he could draw the enemy long enough for his small ally get away.
* * *
Far away, but not so far that she couldn't see what was happening in the sky, Kara Starbuck watched the flashes of a space battle, dreaming of being up there herself.
Flying. All she wanted was to fly. And all she couldn't do was leave this gods-forsaken frakking rock.
The harsh voice, as burnt as the sand around her, came across the heat. "Kara! Check the fence!"
Kara let out a soundless sigh and called back, "Yes, Aunt Socrata!"
In her landspeeder she was soon at the outer marker, checking that the condensers were working and the magnetic fence was in proper alignment when the glint of metal caught her eye. Metal?
She lifted the comlink to tell her aunt about the thing she was seeing, not quite revealing that it was well outside the boundary, and raced to check it out before sand scavengers got to it.
Braking the landspeeder with a cloud of dust, she hopped out to look at what she'd found. It was shaped vaguely like a bird, with wings and a head, but metallic. It was an Imperial message drone, the smaller version of their Imperial Raiders. It looked damaged. Its sensor was flying back and forth in agitation, and it rattled against the ground trying to rise.
"Hey," she held out a hand, trying to soothe it. "Hey, I'm here to help." It settled, a bit, and squealed electronically. "Okay, let's take a look at you..."
It trembled as she touched it gently, and feeling ridiculous, she murmured to it, while picking it up. "Shush, shush, it's okay, let me take a look and see what's wrong."
The metal skin was very hot though, and she pulled her fingers away with a hiss. "Ow." It had come through atmosphere. Glancing up in the sky, in the direction of the now quiet battle, she asked, "Did you come from up there? That battle? The things you must have seen." She sighed heavily and went to find some gloves to pick her new little pet up.
She put it in the back of the landspeeder. "Just stay here. I'll bring you home and fix you up good as new." It screeched and rattled against the sides, as she started up, and she smiled. "You're a temperamental thing, aren't you? It won't take long, just calm down."
But she didn't get very far when she heard a whoosh, and turned her head to see the drone rise up and then dart back toward the canyon.
"Frak! Come back here! It's not safe!" she yelled after it. "Oh hell," she muttered and wrenched the landspeeder around to follow it.
It spiralled down, and crashed into the sand again. "Dumb machine," she muttered under her breath and jumped out of the speeder again to grab it. "What are you trying to do, you stupid thing? It's not safe out here, there's scavengers who'd love to take you apart for scrap."
Which was when everything exploded.
A hot wind pushed her off her feet, spun her around, and threw her to the sand. The last thing she heard was another screech from the drone, then a horrifying groan as if some mysterious rock monster was calling out, and then nothing.
* * *
Lee crept back to his quarters to wait. He heard the distant sounds of blaster fire grow closer, and shut his eyes as the cries of pain became audible. Everyone on this ship knew the war they were fighting, and they knew the price of getting caught and had volunteered anyway.
It helped only a little.
The fight came closer until it was right outside the door, his guards trying to protect him, as blaster fire slammed into the wall and the door again and again. Until all was quiet.
Then heavy, rhythmic blows rained on the hatch, until with a screech of metal tearing, Centurions pulled it from the frame.
Calmly, he held out his hands, unarmed, as two Dorals entered behind the Centurions. "Come."
Lee kept his chin up as they forced him into the main corridor at the aft, where the Cylons had boarded.
A chill went down his back moments before he saw the shape that lurked like a shadow among the bright white walls and brighter chrome of the Centruions around him. The first tendril of fear curled up in Lee's stomach at the sight; he knew exactly who it was.
Well, no, technically, he didn't know who was inside the mask and armored suit, if he was a man at all. Lee had often wondered if he wasn't actually a very advanced form of Centurion and not alive at all, in a conventional sense. Not that it mattered -- who he used to be mattered far less that what he was, which was the chief enforcer of the Emperor.
Darth Vader.
But Lee wasn't without his own power, and remembered his mother's training. When you are in a position of weakness, you must attack. Show no fear, my son. So Lee tried to sneer like the prince he was. "Darth Vader. Only you would be so bold. The Quorum won't stand for this when they learned you've attacked a diplomatic misssion--"
The deep artificial voice cut in, "You aren't on any diplomatic mission, Your Highness. I want to know what happened to the plans those spies sent this ship."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Lee retorted. "I'm a member of the Galactic Quorum on a diplomatic --"
"You are a rebel and a traitor, like your mother. Take him to my ship," he ordered the Centurions.
As the Cylons marched him away, Lee thought of the drone he'd sent away. Hopefully its mission would be more successful than Lee's own.
* * *
Kara woke up in some cool dark place. Her head was pounding, and there was a really bad smell in her nose. Her fingers found a dried paste on the side of her face, covering an abrasion that stung when she touched it. Worse, her fingers now carried the smell, which was pungent and familiar. Bantha crap. That was just great.
She tried to sit up, feeling dizzy and her back hurt. "Hello?" she called.
There was no answer, so she looked around curiously.
She was in a cave, the light streaming in from a narrow slit in the wall and an entrance covered with a thin curtain. But it was obviously someone's home as well, kept tidy and plain. The walls were smooth and whitewashed, and had a few narrow shelves cut in them to hold jars and decorations. The bed where she sat was a shelf carved from the soft sandstone and softened with a few blankets. There was a battered storage footlocker, and a larger table with food supplies and a clear bottle of some kind of rotgut.
Cautiously she stood up, catching herself on the bed while she blinked away the dizziness.
There was a photograph on one shelf, old and faded, but kept in a place of honor like something precious. There was a blonde woman in it, grinning happily, her joy lighting her eyes.
Something caught at Kara's heart at the sight of her, a sudden sharp pain, and she hastily put the photo down as if it burned her fingers.
Casting a glance at the entryway, Kara knelt on the floor to open the storage locker. On top of the clothes was an odd metallic cylinder, and when she wrapped her hand around hit, she realized it was meant to be held that way. Curious, she lifted it out and stood up, finding the button right where it ought to be.
She pushed it and with a hum a brilliant beam of blue light came out, it was about a meter long and shimmered with so much power she didn't dare touch it. But it mesmerized her, as she held it up and swung it side to side, listening to the sound it made. It was some sort of laser sword, but nothing like she'd ever seen.
"You should've left it," a grumpy voice said from the doorway, and she tore her eyes from the blade to see the old hermit Saul. She'd met him several times throughout her childhood, since he lived near the homestead and bought some water from them. Her uncle and aunt didn't like him much, though.
"This your place?" Kara asked, feeling ashamed of herself for snooping around. She thumbed off the blade, and it disappeared with a slurping noise. "Sorry."
"Put it down before you cut off your foot," he ordered. "You're lucky you didn't kill yourself."
She set it down on the table. "What is it?"
"It's called a lightsaber. A weapon from ... another life," he muttered then he whistled and held up a hand. The missing drone lightly landed on his hand and cooed at him, just like a real bird might.
"I rescued your drone from the scavengers that hit you. Figured if you were going to nearly get killed for it, it must be important to you," he said, bringing it inside. "I haven't seen one of these in years."
"It's not mine," she shrugged. "I was just going to see if it was worth anything, and -- "
Abruptly the drone let out a whistle, cutting her off, and from its sensor slit projected an image.
The color seemed washed out and faded, and the picture flickered, as if the whole thing had been done in haste, but she could see well enough. It was a man, dressed in a white military-type shirt, staring at the recorder. He was self-possessed and handsome -- the blue of his eyes was vivid even with the poor recording. She stared at him for a little while, listening to his hurried, but calm voice, "Colonel Tigh, years ago you served with my mother in the Cylon War, now she begs you to help her against the Cylon Empire. I'm sorry I'm not able to present this message to you in person, but my ship has fallen under attack and my mission to retrieve you has failed. There is information vital to the survival of the resistance stored in this drone. You must see that it gets to my mother on Caprica, Colonel. You're our only hope."
Then the image was gone. "Hey, bring him back!" she ordered, but the drone didn't do it. "Who was that? Who's Colonel Tigh?"
"I am," he answered heavily and moved to the table to pour himself a drink.
"But what was he talking about? Resistance? To the Empire?" she demanded in confusion. "You fought in the Cylon War?" she asked, still trying to get her mind around the idea that this harmless old hermit had once been a colonel and a warrior.
"I did," he answered. "And now it appears I'll have to fight again. But you'll come with me, and we'll fight together."
"What?" she asked, startled. "I'm not going with you. I've -- I've gotta get home. Aunt Socrata'll be angry that I've been gone so long."
"He needs your help," Saul gestured toward where the hologram had been. "The Resistance needs you."
She laughed, a little bitterly. "Look, I hate the Cylons, too. But there's nothing I can do about it right now."
Saul sighed. "That's Socrata. Always telling you you're nothing. Well, she's wrong, Kara. You're a pain the ass, but you're not nothing."
Kara didn't know what to say, then, wanting both to furiously reject the slur on her aunt and yet somewhere deep inside admitting he was right.
The old hermit faced the drone again. "Was that the battle, little one? When your ship was attacked?" he asked the drone, who whistled a seemingly sad affirmative. Saul closed his eyes and nodded. Then his eyes opened again. "The Empire will search that ship for the information this drone carries, and those Cylons will figure out the drone has it. They'll track its descent, and start looking for it... sending them..."
Her eyes widened as her stomach fell in horror. "Home," she whispered. "No." She whirled and ran outside. Her speeder was there down below and she scrambled down the path, half-falling on the loose gravel to the canyon floor.
"Kara, no! Wait!" he yelled at her, but she didn't listen and tore off across the desert, her fear like ashes in her mouth as her heart pounded.
She saw the smoke from far away, and shook her head. No, this couldn't be. This couldn't be happening. Through the binoculars, she scanned the homestead but saw no sign of life. It was already over.
More slowly, she approached. Black smoke billowed out of the main door to the homestead below. But there were two crumpled forms in the sand.
Kneeling between them, she bit her lip and her chest heaved for a breath that wasn't coming. Except for their clothes and a bit of her aunt's hair, it would've been impossible to know it was them, so badly burned were the bodies.
"I'm sorry, Aunt Socrata, Uncle Dreilide," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Her eyes burned with tears, but they didn't quite fall. And as she knelt there, her heart hardened with resolution.
The message mentioned a resistance against the Cylons. She would join it, and she would make them pay. If she had to start ripping Centurions apart with her bare hands, she would, but somehow she would bring them all down.
In the orange light of the setting of Alpha sun, she got back in the speeder and headed more slowly back to the canyon.
Saul was there waiting for her, his craggy face sympathetic. "There was nothing you could've done, Kara. You would've died, and the drone would be in Cylon hands."
She nodded, not quite believing it though. "I want to fight them," she declared. "That resistance he mentioned, I want to be part of it. Let me come with you."
He hesitated, but with a look at her face, nodded. "Then this should be yours," he said and handed her the lightsaber she'd turned on before. "It belonged to your father."
Her gaze jerked up, startled. "You knew my father?"
"I did. He was a great pilot. And my friend. He'd want you to have it." He smiled sadly, "Your uncle and aunt refused to let me tell you about him, fearing you'd get swept up in the war, just like he did."
Lips parting in wonder, she turned it over in her hands, thinking that her father had touched it. She'd never known her father, and her uncle and aunt had never told her much beyond the fact that her parents were dead.
"Come, Kara," he said. "It's your frakking destiny."
* * *
She drove far faster than she should, pushing the speeder to the limit, but Saul didn't complain. When she glanced at him, he seemed calm.
She slowed as they topped the ridge, overlooking the town and the spaceport down below.
"Mos Eisley," Saul muttered in disgust. "A wretched hive of scum and villainy. We should be careful."
Kara kicked the speeder into gear again and they approached the gate. Chrome centurions were on guard, their bodies shining too brightly in the double suns. Kara bit her lip, thinking of the little Imperial drone in the back under the tarp. "How are we--?"
"Relax."
"Halt," the uniformed supervisor clone, one of the Dorals, ordered. Kara pulled up, obediently, her heart pounding. She kept her eyes down so he wouldn't see the burning hate in them. These frakkers had killed her aunt and uncle.
Saul gestured Doral to lean closer and caught his eyes, intoning, "You don't need to see our identification. You will let us pass."
"I don't need to see your identification. You will let us pass," Doral repeated blankly, shook himself a little, and ordered briskly, with a wave, "Pass through."
Kara didn't wait for the order to be repeated, pushing on the accelerator. "What the hell was that?" she demanded.
"Just a little trick I remembered from the old days," Saul answered and repeated in a soft voice, his gaze distant, "The very old days. Pull up over there, near the cantina. I'll see about finding us some transport out of here."
She pulled into the slot and Saul jumped out like a man half his age. He picked up the drone and ordered her, "Stay here. Don't attract attention."
He disappeared into the alley next to the cantina, and Kara heaved an irritated sigh that he'd left her here, as if she was some helpless kid.
But she waited, watching the trading booths across the way with idle curiosity, hoping Saul finished up quickly.
A troop of Centurions entered the street and started heading her way. She didn't want to get questioned by them, or one of their creepy clone surpervisors, not when she couldn't do the trick Saul could. Scrambling out of the landspeeder, she walked into the cantina.
It was full of smoke and loud music, and she smiled. She'd always avoided the bars on this side of Mos Eisley, since Socrata had told her they were full of bad folk, but really, this one didn't seem all that different.
The people in it were the usual mix of freighter crews and hired guns and hard drinkers, and she pushed her way up to the bar. "Sunspot," she ordered and perched on the stool while she waited, looking around. Saul was already here, talking to a thin woman with red hair, and he hadn't noticed she was there yet. He followed her through the smoke-blurred shadows to the side of the room.
Kara was enjoying her drink, listening to the music, when a hostile voice interrupted, "Get off my stool, girlie." Kara turned and looked up, at the random tough guy who thought he could boss her around.
"Your stool? I don't see your name on it. Get lost." Smirking, she deliberately turned her back, muscles tensing as the adrenaline rushed through her, eager for a fight. She'd lost the only parents she'd ever known, and much as she'd wanted to get away from this planet, the sight of their smoking bodies was still fresh in her mind. Someone was going to have to pay for that.
The creep moved on her, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her off. She pushed into his grip and spun around, yanking his forearm and punching him in the face with her other fist. Then she swept his feet out from under him and slammed his face against "his" stool.
He fell to the floor, limp as a sack of grain, and she toed him with her boot to see if he was out.
"Kara," Saul barked, getting her attention, to see he was glaring at her. "This is your idea of not attracting attention?"
She made an apologetic face at him, and followed when he beckoned, not forgetting to grab her Sunspot off the bar first.
Saul led her to one of the booths along the wall. Kara saw the red-haired woman first - she had a tough face and hard eyes that felt like she assessed Kara and found her lacking.
Her companion took up the rest of the bench, leaning back with one arm slung over the back of the bench and the other hand out of sight beneath the table. It was a supremely confident posture, deliberate in its arrogance, and immediately annoyed her. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt, surely intended to draw attention to the broad shoulders and muscular arms. She curled a lip in disdain, refusing to be impressed.
He just smirked back at her, and asked Saul, "This the other passenger?"
"Yes. Kara, this is Sam Anders, captain of the Caprica Buccaneer," Saul introduced, "and first mate Barolay. They're going to be taking us to Caprica."
"The Caprica Buccaneer?" she repeated in disbelief. "That's your ship? The one that broke the record on the Caprica-Aerilon run by 4 minutes?"
"That's right," he answered, with a cocky grin. "Except it was 4.8 minutes. You know racing?"
"I race here," she explained. "Fastest on all Delphi."
"Really." His eyes were interested, but his smile seemed condescending. She wanted to hit that look off his face. But then his eyes cut toward the doorway, and the partial smile vanished. His pose melted away for pure tight readiness. "We got company."
There were two Dorals coming inside. "Is there a back way out of here?" Saul asked.
Anders looked at him in surprise. "You didn't tell me you were running from frakking Imperials."
"Scared?" Kara taunted.
He narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't need Imperial attention. Frak." Then in a moment of indecision, he glanced from Saul to Barolay and back, and bit his lower lip, seeming tempted. Then he gave in with a quick breath, "The rest when we get to Caprica, right?"
"Yes," Saul confirmed.
"It better be," Anders muttered. "Let's get the frak out of here. You two go out the back, meet at bay nine. We'll cover for you. Go."
He was tall, she realized when he was standing, and he wore a blaster belt on his hips as if he'd had one all his life. He and Barolay exchanged another look, and she nodded in silent understanding.
Kara sidled through the crowd after Saul, as behind them a fight broke out. She turned back once, catching sight of Anders and Barolay in the middle of it, along with both the Dorals.
She and Saul made it to the alley, without being noticed or stopped, until they ran into the Doral and two Centurions waiting.
The Doral smiled, and his blaster pointed right at them. "We've been looking for you. Where is the drone?"
"Where you'll never find it," Saul answered. In an instant, he had his lightsaber lit before him and with a single flourish of the bright blade, cut down the Doral and the two Centurions before they could fire back.
Kara stared down at the carnage, appalled and yet fascinated. It had cut through them like a knife through cheese, slicing through metal and flesh alike. "Gods."
Saul put the weapon back on his belt and yanked on her sleeve. "We need to grab the drone and move."
Kara shook off her shock and hurried after him. Saul retrieved the drone from behind a pile of garbage, and it whistled at him in soft indignation.
"I know, I know. Sorry," he told it and then pulled his cloak over it. "We need to sell the speeder to pay our new friend."
"All right, I know the place," Kara said. It wasn't until she was putting her hand print on the contract to seal the sale that she hesitated, realizing this was it. She was leaving.
Saul's hand came on her shoulder and squeezed. "We have to hurry," he reminded her.
"Right." Credit chip in hand, she handed it to him. "Let's go."
They hurried through the town to the walls of the spaceport. Saul found a quiet deserted place where the wall formed an alley with the back of some warehouses, and after handing the drone to her to hold, he unholdstered his lightsaer and carved a hole in the sandstone.
It sparked and hummed as it worked, and she feared the noise, but just then a shuttle went up, covering the noise as Saul kicked in the part he'd cut out, opening a door.
"Wow, that would be handy for a life of crime," Kara said. "Were you a thief?"
Saul looked offended. "Never."
"Kidding," she muttered, and followed him through the hole.
Not only was Saul able to move with more agility than Kara expected for a man his age, he also had obvious experience darting around like a commando, sneaking around to get them into the right docking bay unseen.
When there, Saul gestured her to get down behind some crates at the sound of voices.
Anders' voice came across the floor. "Look, I know. I have the cargo, I don't have the money yet. It's a run to Caprica and then I'll be back."
"Don't forget," a second male voice threatened.
Kara eased to the left to glance through the gap in the crates. There was a second man, talking to Anders; he was not quite as tall, very well dressed, and smoking some sort of cigar in one hand. At his side, there was a woman with a weapon pointed at Anders, and two more women farther back covering the main doors and the ramp to the ship where Barolay was standing. The three had a sort of similar look to them -- blonde, tall, very fit. They were all wearing skintight jumpsuits that hugged their figures and made it very obvious that they were wearing gun belts and knives.
"If you fail, there is no place in the galaxy you can run, you know that, right? And I will take your ship, your lovely first mate, and then your life. Are we clear?"
"I'm not running away, Baltar. You'll get your money," Anders said through gritted teeth.
"One last chance. Never say I didn't do anything for you." Baltar smiled and snapped his fingers. "Let's go."
Anders stared after him, jaw tight in anger, as they left. Then he spat. "Frak."
Saul emerged and Anders drew on him, before he realized who it was and shoved the blaster back in its holster. "Damn it. Make some noise next time, old man."
Saul asked, "You have some problems with Baltar?"
"Yeah, I had to dump his cargo when I hit an Imperial interdiction. He's not very understanding about it. So come on, the sooner this milk run's over the sooner I can get him off my back. Barolay, fire it up and let's get the frak out of here."
She nodded and went into the ship. Moments later, the engines started with a rattle and roar, that soon settled to a deep thrumming noise.
"All aboard," he invited and gestured with sarcastic gentility for them to go up the ramp. Saul went in first, carrying the drone.
Kara paused to look at the ship. It was a Picon freighter, at least forty years old, and she shook her head, laughing. "This is the Caprica Buccaneer? Are you kidding me?"
He stiffened, and his eyes flashed with a offended pride. He returned, "Don't let the outside fool you. She'll get you where you need to go, faster than any other ship on this chunk of rock."
But before Kara could speak, she heard the tell-tale sounds of Centurions approaching, that creaking metallic murmur of their movements. Her eyes met Anders' in sudden alarm, and she realized his were a vibrant blue, like deep water that was so rare on Delphi.
He shouted, "Barolay, hurry! Imperials!" He pulled his blaster. "Get up the ramp," he ordered. "I've got to hold them off long enough to get the shields up."
Kara didn't move, just pulled her blaster out, too. "We have to get that drone to Caprica," she told him. "They can't have it."
"Then get under cover," he snapped at her.
She stepped behind the narrow cover of the other ramp pylon. He shook his head at her, but didn't protest again, readying himself. When the first Centurions came into sight, she and Anders both fired, taking the first pair down with a crash of metal.
But their advantage of surprise was gone after that, and the Centurions regrouped and fired from behind the shelter of the doorway.
Kara pulled the trigger again and again, exchanging fire with the Centurions and pegging one Doral clone right in the head. Meanwhile, over the noise, the engine whine climbed in pitch.
A blast winged her sleeve, leaving a furrow of fire. "Ow, frak!"
The enemy was getting too close.
On to Part Two
Rating: PG
Pairing: gen for this part
Summary: It was a dark time for the Galactic Resistance against the evil of the CYLON EMPIRE. You know the rest.
NOTE: GRATUITOUS RIPPING OFF OF LINES AND SCENES. YES. I KNOW. I APOLOGIZE TO GEORGE LUCAS, FANS OF STAR WARS AND BSG, and everyone else. But it HAD to be done. (though some things are quite different). I hope people enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it, because there's a whole lot more where this came from!
Hopefully, you may find it some consolation after Kara's ignoble defeat. *sniff*
Lee crept through the shadows, hurried and furtive, trying to reach his destination before the enemy captured his ship.
His thoughts were not quite frantic, but certainly ... insistent. Hurry, Lee, hurry up, or we are all frakked. Come on, come on, little friend, where are you?
Then, there it was. Then, with another wary look as the ship rattled, he knelt to insert the chip.
Mission accomplished, he faded back into the shadows to wait, praying to gods he didn't even believe in that he could draw the enemy long enough for his small ally get away.
* * *
Far away, but not so far that she couldn't see what was happening in the sky, Kara Starbuck watched the flashes of a space battle, dreaming of being up there herself.
Flying. All she wanted was to fly. And all she couldn't do was leave this gods-forsaken frakking rock.
The harsh voice, as burnt as the sand around her, came across the heat. "Kara! Check the fence!"
Kara let out a soundless sigh and called back, "Yes, Aunt Socrata!"
In her landspeeder she was soon at the outer marker, checking that the condensers were working and the magnetic fence was in proper alignment when the glint of metal caught her eye. Metal?
She lifted the comlink to tell her aunt about the thing she was seeing, not quite revealing that it was well outside the boundary, and raced to check it out before sand scavengers got to it.
Braking the landspeeder with a cloud of dust, she hopped out to look at what she'd found. It was shaped vaguely like a bird, with wings and a head, but metallic. It was an Imperial message drone, the smaller version of their Imperial Raiders. It looked damaged. Its sensor was flying back and forth in agitation, and it rattled against the ground trying to rise.
"Hey," she held out a hand, trying to soothe it. "Hey, I'm here to help." It settled, a bit, and squealed electronically. "Okay, let's take a look at you..."
It trembled as she touched it gently, and feeling ridiculous, she murmured to it, while picking it up. "Shush, shush, it's okay, let me take a look and see what's wrong."
The metal skin was very hot though, and she pulled her fingers away with a hiss. "Ow." It had come through atmosphere. Glancing up in the sky, in the direction of the now quiet battle, she asked, "Did you come from up there? That battle? The things you must have seen." She sighed heavily and went to find some gloves to pick her new little pet up.
She put it in the back of the landspeeder. "Just stay here. I'll bring you home and fix you up good as new." It screeched and rattled against the sides, as she started up, and she smiled. "You're a temperamental thing, aren't you? It won't take long, just calm down."
But she didn't get very far when she heard a whoosh, and turned her head to see the drone rise up and then dart back toward the canyon.
"Frak! Come back here! It's not safe!" she yelled after it. "Oh hell," she muttered and wrenched the landspeeder around to follow it.
It spiralled down, and crashed into the sand again. "Dumb machine," she muttered under her breath and jumped out of the speeder again to grab it. "What are you trying to do, you stupid thing? It's not safe out here, there's scavengers who'd love to take you apart for scrap."
Which was when everything exploded.
A hot wind pushed her off her feet, spun her around, and threw her to the sand. The last thing she heard was another screech from the drone, then a horrifying groan as if some mysterious rock monster was calling out, and then nothing.
* * *
Lee crept back to his quarters to wait. He heard the distant sounds of blaster fire grow closer, and shut his eyes as the cries of pain became audible. Everyone on this ship knew the war they were fighting, and they knew the price of getting caught and had volunteered anyway.
It helped only a little.
The fight came closer until it was right outside the door, his guards trying to protect him, as blaster fire slammed into the wall and the door again and again. Until all was quiet.
Then heavy, rhythmic blows rained on the hatch, until with a screech of metal tearing, Centurions pulled it from the frame.
Calmly, he held out his hands, unarmed, as two Dorals entered behind the Centurions. "Come."
Lee kept his chin up as they forced him into the main corridor at the aft, where the Cylons had boarded.
A chill went down his back moments before he saw the shape that lurked like a shadow among the bright white walls and brighter chrome of the Centruions around him. The first tendril of fear curled up in Lee's stomach at the sight; he knew exactly who it was.
Well, no, technically, he didn't know who was inside the mask and armored suit, if he was a man at all. Lee had often wondered if he wasn't actually a very advanced form of Centurion and not alive at all, in a conventional sense. Not that it mattered -- who he used to be mattered far less that what he was, which was the chief enforcer of the Emperor.
Darth Vader.
But Lee wasn't without his own power, and remembered his mother's training. When you are in a position of weakness, you must attack. Show no fear, my son. So Lee tried to sneer like the prince he was. "Darth Vader. Only you would be so bold. The Quorum won't stand for this when they learned you've attacked a diplomatic misssion--"
The deep artificial voice cut in, "You aren't on any diplomatic mission, Your Highness. I want to know what happened to the plans those spies sent this ship."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Lee retorted. "I'm a member of the Galactic Quorum on a diplomatic --"
"You are a rebel and a traitor, like your mother. Take him to my ship," he ordered the Centurions.
As the Cylons marched him away, Lee thought of the drone he'd sent away. Hopefully its mission would be more successful than Lee's own.
* * *
Kara woke up in some cool dark place. Her head was pounding, and there was a really bad smell in her nose. Her fingers found a dried paste on the side of her face, covering an abrasion that stung when she touched it. Worse, her fingers now carried the smell, which was pungent and familiar. Bantha crap. That was just great.
She tried to sit up, feeling dizzy and her back hurt. "Hello?" she called.
There was no answer, so she looked around curiously.
She was in a cave, the light streaming in from a narrow slit in the wall and an entrance covered with a thin curtain. But it was obviously someone's home as well, kept tidy and plain. The walls were smooth and whitewashed, and had a few narrow shelves cut in them to hold jars and decorations. The bed where she sat was a shelf carved from the soft sandstone and softened with a few blankets. There was a battered storage footlocker, and a larger table with food supplies and a clear bottle of some kind of rotgut.
Cautiously she stood up, catching herself on the bed while she blinked away the dizziness.
There was a photograph on one shelf, old and faded, but kept in a place of honor like something precious. There was a blonde woman in it, grinning happily, her joy lighting her eyes.
Something caught at Kara's heart at the sight of her, a sudden sharp pain, and she hastily put the photo down as if it burned her fingers.
Casting a glance at the entryway, Kara knelt on the floor to open the storage locker. On top of the clothes was an odd metallic cylinder, and when she wrapped her hand around hit, she realized it was meant to be held that way. Curious, she lifted it out and stood up, finding the button right where it ought to be.
She pushed it and with a hum a brilliant beam of blue light came out, it was about a meter long and shimmered with so much power she didn't dare touch it. But it mesmerized her, as she held it up and swung it side to side, listening to the sound it made. It was some sort of laser sword, but nothing like she'd ever seen.
"You should've left it," a grumpy voice said from the doorway, and she tore her eyes from the blade to see the old hermit Saul. She'd met him several times throughout her childhood, since he lived near the homestead and bought some water from them. Her uncle and aunt didn't like him much, though.
"This your place?" Kara asked, feeling ashamed of herself for snooping around. She thumbed off the blade, and it disappeared with a slurping noise. "Sorry."
"Put it down before you cut off your foot," he ordered. "You're lucky you didn't kill yourself."
She set it down on the table. "What is it?"
"It's called a lightsaber. A weapon from ... another life," he muttered then he whistled and held up a hand. The missing drone lightly landed on his hand and cooed at him, just like a real bird might.
"I rescued your drone from the scavengers that hit you. Figured if you were going to nearly get killed for it, it must be important to you," he said, bringing it inside. "I haven't seen one of these in years."
"It's not mine," she shrugged. "I was just going to see if it was worth anything, and -- "
Abruptly the drone let out a whistle, cutting her off, and from its sensor slit projected an image.
The color seemed washed out and faded, and the picture flickered, as if the whole thing had been done in haste, but she could see well enough. It was a man, dressed in a white military-type shirt, staring at the recorder. He was self-possessed and handsome -- the blue of his eyes was vivid even with the poor recording. She stared at him for a little while, listening to his hurried, but calm voice, "Colonel Tigh, years ago you served with my mother in the Cylon War, now she begs you to help her against the Cylon Empire. I'm sorry I'm not able to present this message to you in person, but my ship has fallen under attack and my mission to retrieve you has failed. There is information vital to the survival of the resistance stored in this drone. You must see that it gets to my mother on Caprica, Colonel. You're our only hope."
Then the image was gone. "Hey, bring him back!" she ordered, but the drone didn't do it. "Who was that? Who's Colonel Tigh?"
"I am," he answered heavily and moved to the table to pour himself a drink.
"But what was he talking about? Resistance? To the Empire?" she demanded in confusion. "You fought in the Cylon War?" she asked, still trying to get her mind around the idea that this harmless old hermit had once been a colonel and a warrior.
"I did," he answered. "And now it appears I'll have to fight again. But you'll come with me, and we'll fight together."
"What?" she asked, startled. "I'm not going with you. I've -- I've gotta get home. Aunt Socrata'll be angry that I've been gone so long."
"He needs your help," Saul gestured toward where the hologram had been. "The Resistance needs you."
She laughed, a little bitterly. "Look, I hate the Cylons, too. But there's nothing I can do about it right now."
Saul sighed. "That's Socrata. Always telling you you're nothing. Well, she's wrong, Kara. You're a pain the ass, but you're not nothing."
Kara didn't know what to say, then, wanting both to furiously reject the slur on her aunt and yet somewhere deep inside admitting he was right.
The old hermit faced the drone again. "Was that the battle, little one? When your ship was attacked?" he asked the drone, who whistled a seemingly sad affirmative. Saul closed his eyes and nodded. Then his eyes opened again. "The Empire will search that ship for the information this drone carries, and those Cylons will figure out the drone has it. They'll track its descent, and start looking for it... sending them..."
Her eyes widened as her stomach fell in horror. "Home," she whispered. "No." She whirled and ran outside. Her speeder was there down below and she scrambled down the path, half-falling on the loose gravel to the canyon floor.
"Kara, no! Wait!" he yelled at her, but she didn't listen and tore off across the desert, her fear like ashes in her mouth as her heart pounded.
She saw the smoke from far away, and shook her head. No, this couldn't be. This couldn't be happening. Through the binoculars, she scanned the homestead but saw no sign of life. It was already over.
More slowly, she approached. Black smoke billowed out of the main door to the homestead below. But there were two crumpled forms in the sand.
Kneeling between them, she bit her lip and her chest heaved for a breath that wasn't coming. Except for their clothes and a bit of her aunt's hair, it would've been impossible to know it was them, so badly burned were the bodies.
"I'm sorry, Aunt Socrata, Uncle Dreilide," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Her eyes burned with tears, but they didn't quite fall. And as she knelt there, her heart hardened with resolution.
The message mentioned a resistance against the Cylons. She would join it, and she would make them pay. If she had to start ripping Centurions apart with her bare hands, she would, but somehow she would bring them all down.
In the orange light of the setting of Alpha sun, she got back in the speeder and headed more slowly back to the canyon.
Saul was there waiting for her, his craggy face sympathetic. "There was nothing you could've done, Kara. You would've died, and the drone would be in Cylon hands."
She nodded, not quite believing it though. "I want to fight them," she declared. "That resistance he mentioned, I want to be part of it. Let me come with you."
He hesitated, but with a look at her face, nodded. "Then this should be yours," he said and handed her the lightsaber she'd turned on before. "It belonged to your father."
Her gaze jerked up, startled. "You knew my father?"
"I did. He was a great pilot. And my friend. He'd want you to have it." He smiled sadly, "Your uncle and aunt refused to let me tell you about him, fearing you'd get swept up in the war, just like he did."
Lips parting in wonder, she turned it over in her hands, thinking that her father had touched it. She'd never known her father, and her uncle and aunt had never told her much beyond the fact that her parents were dead.
"Come, Kara," he said. "It's your frakking destiny."
* * *
She drove far faster than she should, pushing the speeder to the limit, but Saul didn't complain. When she glanced at him, he seemed calm.
She slowed as they topped the ridge, overlooking the town and the spaceport down below.
"Mos Eisley," Saul muttered in disgust. "A wretched hive of scum and villainy. We should be careful."
Kara kicked the speeder into gear again and they approached the gate. Chrome centurions were on guard, their bodies shining too brightly in the double suns. Kara bit her lip, thinking of the little Imperial drone in the back under the tarp. "How are we--?"
"Relax."
"Halt," the uniformed supervisor clone, one of the Dorals, ordered. Kara pulled up, obediently, her heart pounding. She kept her eyes down so he wouldn't see the burning hate in them. These frakkers had killed her aunt and uncle.
Saul gestured Doral to lean closer and caught his eyes, intoning, "You don't need to see our identification. You will let us pass."
"I don't need to see your identification. You will let us pass," Doral repeated blankly, shook himself a little, and ordered briskly, with a wave, "Pass through."
Kara didn't wait for the order to be repeated, pushing on the accelerator. "What the hell was that?" she demanded.
"Just a little trick I remembered from the old days," Saul answered and repeated in a soft voice, his gaze distant, "The very old days. Pull up over there, near the cantina. I'll see about finding us some transport out of here."
She pulled into the slot and Saul jumped out like a man half his age. He picked up the drone and ordered her, "Stay here. Don't attract attention."
He disappeared into the alley next to the cantina, and Kara heaved an irritated sigh that he'd left her here, as if she was some helpless kid.
But she waited, watching the trading booths across the way with idle curiosity, hoping Saul finished up quickly.
A troop of Centurions entered the street and started heading her way. She didn't want to get questioned by them, or one of their creepy clone surpervisors, not when she couldn't do the trick Saul could. Scrambling out of the landspeeder, she walked into the cantina.
It was full of smoke and loud music, and she smiled. She'd always avoided the bars on this side of Mos Eisley, since Socrata had told her they were full of bad folk, but really, this one didn't seem all that different.
The people in it were the usual mix of freighter crews and hired guns and hard drinkers, and she pushed her way up to the bar. "Sunspot," she ordered and perched on the stool while she waited, looking around. Saul was already here, talking to a thin woman with red hair, and he hadn't noticed she was there yet. He followed her through the smoke-blurred shadows to the side of the room.
Kara was enjoying her drink, listening to the music, when a hostile voice interrupted, "Get off my stool, girlie." Kara turned and looked up, at the random tough guy who thought he could boss her around.
"Your stool? I don't see your name on it. Get lost." Smirking, she deliberately turned her back, muscles tensing as the adrenaline rushed through her, eager for a fight. She'd lost the only parents she'd ever known, and much as she'd wanted to get away from this planet, the sight of their smoking bodies was still fresh in her mind. Someone was going to have to pay for that.
The creep moved on her, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her off. She pushed into his grip and spun around, yanking his forearm and punching him in the face with her other fist. Then she swept his feet out from under him and slammed his face against "his" stool.
He fell to the floor, limp as a sack of grain, and she toed him with her boot to see if he was out.
"Kara," Saul barked, getting her attention, to see he was glaring at her. "This is your idea of not attracting attention?"
She made an apologetic face at him, and followed when he beckoned, not forgetting to grab her Sunspot off the bar first.
Saul led her to one of the booths along the wall. Kara saw the red-haired woman first - she had a tough face and hard eyes that felt like she assessed Kara and found her lacking.
Her companion took up the rest of the bench, leaning back with one arm slung over the back of the bench and the other hand out of sight beneath the table. It was a supremely confident posture, deliberate in its arrogance, and immediately annoyed her. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt, surely intended to draw attention to the broad shoulders and muscular arms. She curled a lip in disdain, refusing to be impressed.
He just smirked back at her, and asked Saul, "This the other passenger?"
"Yes. Kara, this is Sam Anders, captain of the Caprica Buccaneer," Saul introduced, "and first mate Barolay. They're going to be taking us to Caprica."
"The Caprica Buccaneer?" she repeated in disbelief. "That's your ship? The one that broke the record on the Caprica-Aerilon run by 4 minutes?"
"That's right," he answered, with a cocky grin. "Except it was 4.8 minutes. You know racing?"
"I race here," she explained. "Fastest on all Delphi."
"Really." His eyes were interested, but his smile seemed condescending. She wanted to hit that look off his face. But then his eyes cut toward the doorway, and the partial smile vanished. His pose melted away for pure tight readiness. "We got company."
There were two Dorals coming inside. "Is there a back way out of here?" Saul asked.
Anders looked at him in surprise. "You didn't tell me you were running from frakking Imperials."
"Scared?" Kara taunted.
He narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't need Imperial attention. Frak." Then in a moment of indecision, he glanced from Saul to Barolay and back, and bit his lower lip, seeming tempted. Then he gave in with a quick breath, "The rest when we get to Caprica, right?"
"Yes," Saul confirmed.
"It better be," Anders muttered. "Let's get the frak out of here. You two go out the back, meet at bay nine. We'll cover for you. Go."
He was tall, she realized when he was standing, and he wore a blaster belt on his hips as if he'd had one all his life. He and Barolay exchanged another look, and she nodded in silent understanding.
Kara sidled through the crowd after Saul, as behind them a fight broke out. She turned back once, catching sight of Anders and Barolay in the middle of it, along with both the Dorals.
She and Saul made it to the alley, without being noticed or stopped, until they ran into the Doral and two Centurions waiting.
The Doral smiled, and his blaster pointed right at them. "We've been looking for you. Where is the drone?"
"Where you'll never find it," Saul answered. In an instant, he had his lightsaber lit before him and with a single flourish of the bright blade, cut down the Doral and the two Centurions before they could fire back.
Kara stared down at the carnage, appalled and yet fascinated. It had cut through them like a knife through cheese, slicing through metal and flesh alike. "Gods."
Saul put the weapon back on his belt and yanked on her sleeve. "We need to grab the drone and move."
Kara shook off her shock and hurried after him. Saul retrieved the drone from behind a pile of garbage, and it whistled at him in soft indignation.
"I know, I know. Sorry," he told it and then pulled his cloak over it. "We need to sell the speeder to pay our new friend."
"All right, I know the place," Kara said. It wasn't until she was putting her hand print on the contract to seal the sale that she hesitated, realizing this was it. She was leaving.
Saul's hand came on her shoulder and squeezed. "We have to hurry," he reminded her.
"Right." Credit chip in hand, she handed it to him. "Let's go."
They hurried through the town to the walls of the spaceport. Saul found a quiet deserted place where the wall formed an alley with the back of some warehouses, and after handing the drone to her to hold, he unholdstered his lightsaer and carved a hole in the sandstone.
It sparked and hummed as it worked, and she feared the noise, but just then a shuttle went up, covering the noise as Saul kicked in the part he'd cut out, opening a door.
"Wow, that would be handy for a life of crime," Kara said. "Were you a thief?"
Saul looked offended. "Never."
"Kidding," she muttered, and followed him through the hole.
Not only was Saul able to move with more agility than Kara expected for a man his age, he also had obvious experience darting around like a commando, sneaking around to get them into the right docking bay unseen.
When there, Saul gestured her to get down behind some crates at the sound of voices.
Anders' voice came across the floor. "Look, I know. I have the cargo, I don't have the money yet. It's a run to Caprica and then I'll be back."
"Don't forget," a second male voice threatened.
Kara eased to the left to glance through the gap in the crates. There was a second man, talking to Anders; he was not quite as tall, very well dressed, and smoking some sort of cigar in one hand. At his side, there was a woman with a weapon pointed at Anders, and two more women farther back covering the main doors and the ramp to the ship where Barolay was standing. The three had a sort of similar look to them -- blonde, tall, very fit. They were all wearing skintight jumpsuits that hugged their figures and made it very obvious that they were wearing gun belts and knives.
"If you fail, there is no place in the galaxy you can run, you know that, right? And I will take your ship, your lovely first mate, and then your life. Are we clear?"
"I'm not running away, Baltar. You'll get your money," Anders said through gritted teeth.
"One last chance. Never say I didn't do anything for you." Baltar smiled and snapped his fingers. "Let's go."
Anders stared after him, jaw tight in anger, as they left. Then he spat. "Frak."
Saul emerged and Anders drew on him, before he realized who it was and shoved the blaster back in its holster. "Damn it. Make some noise next time, old man."
Saul asked, "You have some problems with Baltar?"
"Yeah, I had to dump his cargo when I hit an Imperial interdiction. He's not very understanding about it. So come on, the sooner this milk run's over the sooner I can get him off my back. Barolay, fire it up and let's get the frak out of here."
She nodded and went into the ship. Moments later, the engines started with a rattle and roar, that soon settled to a deep thrumming noise.
"All aboard," he invited and gestured with sarcastic gentility for them to go up the ramp. Saul went in first, carrying the drone.
Kara paused to look at the ship. It was a Picon freighter, at least forty years old, and she shook her head, laughing. "This is the Caprica Buccaneer? Are you kidding me?"
He stiffened, and his eyes flashed with a offended pride. He returned, "Don't let the outside fool you. She'll get you where you need to go, faster than any other ship on this chunk of rock."
But before Kara could speak, she heard the tell-tale sounds of Centurions approaching, that creaking metallic murmur of their movements. Her eyes met Anders' in sudden alarm, and she realized his were a vibrant blue, like deep water that was so rare on Delphi.
He shouted, "Barolay, hurry! Imperials!" He pulled his blaster. "Get up the ramp," he ordered. "I've got to hold them off long enough to get the shields up."
Kara didn't move, just pulled her blaster out, too. "We have to get that drone to Caprica," she told him. "They can't have it."
"Then get under cover," he snapped at her.
She stepped behind the narrow cover of the other ramp pylon. He shook his head at her, but didn't protest again, readying himself. When the first Centurions came into sight, she and Anders both fired, taking the first pair down with a crash of metal.
But their advantage of surprise was gone after that, and the Centurions regrouped and fired from behind the shelter of the doorway.
Kara pulled the trigger again and again, exchanging fire with the Centurions and pegging one Doral clone right in the head. Meanwhile, over the noise, the engine whine climbed in pitch.
A blast winged her sleeve, leaving a furrow of fire. "Ow, frak!"
The enemy was getting too close.
On to Part Two