A new BATTLESTAR GALACTICA adventure!
Apollo and Starbuck have been chosen to
test-run the new SuperViper, the most
awesome ship ever created to help wipe
thier enemies from space. But the deadliest
enemy is among them, as a ruthless traitor
plots to destroy the fleet from within.
A Cylon assassin is on the loose somewhere
on the Galactica—and Boxey is missing!
"Commander Adama!"
"To whom am I speaking? And whom do you represent?"
"I am Spectre, I represent the Cylon Imperious Leader, your rightful ruler. I and my forces, as you can see, can destroy you. You must place yourself, your ship, and your fleet under my authority. Then our attack will cease."
"We do not accept your offer, sir."
"It is not an offer, it is an order."
"We don't take orders from tin soldiers or Cylons."
"Empty, vain words, Commander. You are condemning everyone under your command to death. I have one order only for you . . .
"SURRENDER THE
GALACTICA!"
Berkley Battlestar Galactica Books
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA
by Glen A. Larson and Robert Thurston
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 2: THE CYLON DEATH MACHINE
by Glen A. Larson and Robert Thurston
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 3: THE TOMBS OF KOBOL
by Glen A. Larson and Robert Thurston
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 4: THE YOUNG WARRIORS
by Glen A. Larson and Robert Thurston
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 5: GALACTICA DISCOVERS EARTH
by Glen A. Larson and Michael Resnick
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 6: THE LIVING LEGEND
by Glen A. Larson and Nicholas Yermakov
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 7: WAR OF THE GODS
by Glen A. Larson and Nicholas Yermakov
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 8: GREETINGS FROM EARTH
by Glen A. Larson and Ron Goulart
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 9: EXPERIMENT IN TERRA
by Glen A. Larson and Ron Goulart
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 10: THE LONG PATROL
by Glen A. Larson and Ron Goulart
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 11: THE NIGHTMARE MACHINE
by Glen A. Larson and Robert Thurston
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 12: "DIE, CHAMELEON!"
by Glen A. Larson and Robert Thurston
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 13: APOLLO'S WAR
by Glen A. Larson and Robert Thurston
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 14: SURRENDER THE GALACTICA!
by Glen A. Larson and Robert Thurston
This book is an Ace original
edition, and has never been
previously published.
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 14:
SURRENDER THE GALACTICA!
An Ace Book / published by arrangement with
MCA PUBLISHING, a Division of MCA Inc.
PRINTING HISTORY
Ace edition / January 1988
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 1988 by MCA PUBLISHING,
a Division of MCA Inc.
Cover illustration by James Warhola.
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part,
by mimeograph or any other means, without permission.
For information addresss:
MCA PUBLISHING, a Division of
MCA INC.
100 Universal City Plaza,
Universal City, California 91608.
ISBN: 0-441-05104-9
Ace Books are published by Berkley Publishing Group,
200 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016.
The name "ACE" and the "A" logo
are trademarks belonging to Charter Communications, Inc.
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
For Charlotte and Jason
And hello to the thirteenth tribe.
CHAPTER ONE
Boxey had never imagined that piloting his own Viper would be such hard work. The controls didn't respond easily. When he pushed the joystick forward, it resisted him. When the controls did work, the vehicle vibrated dangerously before performing the maneuver Boxey wanted.
He couldn't comprehend what any of the numbers on the instrument panel meant. A light flashed. "I can't figure out what I'm doing, Muffy." Muffit, resting at Boxey's feet, raised its head slightly, shook it to wave droplets of oil off its brown synthetic fur, and made a small daggit noise in the back of its voice transmitter.
"What are you doing in here anyway, Muffy? They don't allow pets in Vipers."
Boxey stretched his neck to look out the side of his transparent canopy. Alongside him flew the Viper of his father, the famous Captain Apollo. At the same moment Apollo glanced Boxey's way. Seeing the boy, he smiled. Boxey always felt good when his father smiled at him. Of course Apollo wasn't really his father. His own parents were long dead. Apollo and his wife Serina had adopted Boxey. Serina had died, so now Apollo was all Boxey had, and Apollo was flying dangerous missions, one dangerous mission after another.
Boxey heard Apollo's voice inside his commline headset. "Take it easy, Cadet Boxey. Cylons at three o'clock."
Boxey looked up and saw a quartet of Cylon raiders speeding toward them in battle formation.
"I'll get 'em, Boxey," Apollo cried. Immediately his Viper zoomed forward.
"I want to help!" Boxey screamed while pushing his joystick ahead, intending to follow his father's ship. Again the joystick didn't respond properly. The Viper rattled, gasped, and chugged, but wouldn't go forward.
"Dad!" Boxey called. "Come back! I need you. Come back."
There was no answer from Apollo. Boxey struggled with his ship's controls. He growled in frustration, and Muffy growled in imitation.
Apollo's Viper swerved to avoid the Cylon lead ship's first shot, then he reverse-looped to catch the enemy craft on his downsweep. The Cylon raider exploded abruptly. Without changing course, Apollo transformed another Cylon raider into careering fragments. Sweeping in low, he popped the third ship with one clean shot.
"Great flying, Dad," Boxey whispered. Muffy seemed to growl the same words.
Only one more Viper left. Apollo's first shot just missed it as it came forward relentlessly, firing wildly. It should have been a sitting duck for Apollo, but suddenly
a new set of guns rose from the top of the Cylon raider, its barrels aimed directly at Apollo's Viper.
"No, Dad, no!" Boxey screamed. "Swerve! Get away!"
A long beam inched slowly from the front barrel of the new artillery. Weaving an intricate laser pattern, it snaked toward Apollo's ship, which did nothing to get out of its way. Boxey screamed another warning, but it was futile. The beam reached Apollo's Viper and enveloped it in a fiery net. The ship slowly separated. Boxey thought he saw his father's body slip upward from the Viper canopy, then slowly dissolve. The Cylon raider, apparently destroyed by his father's last shot, then disappeared. There was nothing left but empty space.
Boxey screamed, then felt himself being shaken. He opened his eyes and he was in his own quarters on the Battlestar Galactica.
"You've been dreaming again, Boxey," said Commander Adama. Boxey looked up into the Commander's light blue eyes, felt relieved to see his comforting smile. Boxey squirmed into his arms.
"It was scary, Grandpa, really scary. Dad, they . . . they just made him disappear. He killed three of them, but the fourth—"
"Hush, Boxey, hush."
He relaxed in Adama's arms, rested his head against the man's shoulders.
"Gee, Grandpa, I wish Dad wouldn't go away and go disappearing like that all the time."
"It's duty, Boxey. Anyway, he's on his way back. They'll all be here soon."
Adama's voice was soothing.
"Here soon. Dad and Starbuck and Croft and . . . and . . . and you, Grandpa. You're coming back. You're with them. What are you doing here? What—"
Adama took his hands off Boxey's shoulders. He picked the boy up and threw him back on the bed.
"Because I'm not your grandfather, Boxey," the figure said. He peeled away his grandfather's face and uniform in one smooth motion. The thing he had thought was his grandfather was a Cylon. The red light where the creature's eyes should be slid back and forth madly. He thought he saw a wicked smile on its face, although he knew that Cylons were incapable of smiling.
Leaning toward Boxey, it reached its metallic hands toward his throat, screaming, "You'll never be a warrior now, you little—"
Boxey scrambled backward on his bed. The creature's hands missed his neck and went for his shoulders. It was shaking him, just as it had done in its Adama disguise.
But this time when he opened his eyes it wasn't Adama shaking him. It was his aunt, Athena.
"Wake up, Boxey. You were having a bad dream, child. A real bad one, from the look of it."
For a moment Boxey, still partly in his dream, couldn't speak. He looked around his room. All the furniture seemed to be in the right place. All of the Viper holographic pictures were still on the walls.
"First there was Dad getting killed by Cylons and then Grandpa was here right where you are. But it wasn't Grandpa, it was a Cylon and he was going to strangle me and—"
"Ssshhh, Boxey. It was just a dream, it's all over."
"And you're real? You're not a dream?"
She smiled warmly.
"No, dear, I'm real."
"Dad . . . he's really coming back."
"His ETA will be soon enough, you'll see. It takes time to cover that much space, even in a Viper. And one of the Vipers was slightly disabled, so it's only going half-speed, holding the others back. You'll see your Dad any time now."
"Thanks, Auntie Athena."
Her smile widened.
"I wish you wouldn't call me that. I feel so strange. I don't feel like an auntie."
"But you are my aunt."
"And I can be Aunt Athena. But, auntie . . . I don't know, it makes me feel I should have white hair and hobble along."
"Ah, you'll never be like that. You'll always be beautiful, like you are now."
"You're a big tease, kiddo."
"I'm just telling you what I hear the guys say. I mean, the pilots and all. They say Athena is some looker."
She laughed.
"I'll bet. And that's why I haven't had a date since Muffy was a pup."
"That's not true! Muffit was my daggit back when you and Starbuck—"
Athena put her hand lightly over Boxey's mouth.
"Ssshhh. That's not a subject I like to talk about now."
"Why not? I like Starbuck. You and he—"
"Boxey!"
"Oh, okay. You guys sure act funny when it comes to romance and stuff."
Athena's smile had a meaning in it that Boxey couldn't figure out. It had it often.
"We sure do. Now, young fellow, it's time for you to get back to sleep. You need your rest."
"I don't want to sleep. I just have nightmares. I think I'll just stay awake all the time."
"All right. You do that if you can. In the meantime, lie back on that pillow and don't get out of bed until your rest period is over."
"Oh, all right—Auntie."
"Boxey!"
"Aunt."
As Athena stood up, there was a faint scratching noise at the door.
"Muffy wants to come in," Boxey said. "Please let him in."
"Well, okay. This time. But you know you're not supposed to have Muffit in the room with you when you're supposed to be sleeping."
Athena opened the door and Muffit scampered in. He made a beeline for Boxey's bed, not jumping until he had almost collided with the nearest bedpost. His leap was high. At its zenith, he spread his furry legs outward and belly-flopped onto the foot of the bed. Boxey laughed.
"Great, Muffy," he yelled. "Precision flying skills. Wow!"
"Don't play with Muffit for too long," Athena said softly. "Try to get back to sleep. No nightmares this time, and when you wake up, your Dad'll be back."
She shut the door gently. Boxey listened to her faint footfalls as she walked away. He scrunched down beside Muffy, whose moistened mechanical tongue made a few stabs at the boy's cheek.
"I'm afraid, Muffy."
The daggit-droid, programmed to recognize nuances in Boxey's voice, responded sympathetically.
"Really afraid. Dad's coming back and that's nice, but you know what?"
Muffit's little yelp seemed to ask: no, what?
"He's only going to go off again and sometime—sometime maybe he won't come back."
Muffit moved in closer to the boy and nudged his side, the proper programmed response to a clear need for affection.
"It's not right. A Dad can't all the time be going off away from his children."
Muffit's slight sigh seemed to signify agreement.
"That's what I think, too. I'm tired o' worryin' and havin' nightmares. If he's gonna keep going off like that, I'm gonna stop carin'."
Muffit stayed silent, since Boxey had provided no vocal clues to indicate a proper response.
"I'm really gonna stop carin'. That way, I'll be all right. Better'n all right. You know what, Muffy?"
The daggit made another "No, what?" sound. "I got a plan. I been thinkin' of it for a while. A good plan. You want to hear it?"
Muffy's sound switched to a yes bark.
"Well, I'm gonna tell you. First of all, I'm gonna get dressed . . ."
CHAPTER TWO
There were probably not too many glens like this one throughout the universe. There was a papier-mache look to its greenery, a flat woodlike aspect to the sparse ground. Trees and bushes looked like they would tip over if pushed.
With a flurry of yells, curses, and shouted challenges, the glen suddenly filled up with people who appeared to have arrived there from some major battle. Most of the warriors, men and women both, held swords in their hands. Sword-blades appeared speckled and gave off bright rays. A man, dressed in fragile-looking armor and wearing a copper-colored helmet rushed out of the center of the fighting pack, looked all around and began to scream at the top of his voice: "Myray! Myray!"
A pretty but heavily made-up woman with dancing black hair ran toward the helmeted man with the commanding voice.
"Fleet!" she yelled.
"Over here," Fleet responded.
A large muscular man, also in armor and helmet, pushed through the crowd and deliberately stood in Myray's way, blocking her from Fleet.
"Myray!" he shouted.
"Clumb!" she yelled, an exaggerated fear in her voice. Clumb strode toward her, his hand lightly caressing the edge of his speckled swordblade.
"Now," he said threateningly, "we can settle our little dispute. For now and all time, my beautiful darling."
"Clumb," Fleet called, "you get away from her, you—"
Clumb whirled around and faced Fleet.
"Must I throttle you again, worm?" he said, his voice one massive sneer.
"Not this time, coward. You're alone. This time you get no help from Drunstan."
Clumb appeared frightened. He took a step backward. "What do you mean? What's happened to Drunstan?"
This time it was Fleet who sneered. "Let's just say his big red nose no longer breathes the pleasant air of Domainia."
Clumb's eyebrow's seemed to rise to a physically impossible height. "You killed him, Fleet?"
"That I did."
"Then I can only fulfill my family pledge by killing you, Fleet."
"Try, Clumb. Just try!"
Myray danced around Clumb and stood between him and Fleet.
"No, Fleet, no," she cried, her voice tormented. "I love you. Be fleet of foot, Fleet, and flee with me."
Fleet's voice became incredibly noble as he declaimed, "No, Myray, I have run away from this wretch for the last time. Make your sword tremble, Clumb."
Easing Myray aside, Fleet took another step toward Clumb, his sword raised. The two squared off. The crowd gradually formed a half-circle to watch Fleet and Clumb fight. Myray trembled at the center of this nicely arranged group.
At first the battle was even, a trading of exuberant and apparently forceful blows accompanied by a trading of equally forceful and exuberant insults. First Fleet drove Clumb backward to one side of the glen, then Clumb recovered and sent Fleet reeling to the other side of the glen. Rushing forward, he backed Fleet against a tree. The tree shook violently from the impact of Fleet's body. A member of the crowd ran behind it, and it stopped shaking. Clumb shouted, triumph in his voice. He raised his sword high and shouted: "I have waited ere long for this moment."
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