Battlestar Galactica 8 - Greetings From Earth

by Glen A. Larson

  "Oh, yes, to be sure," said the commandent. "I see. You're hoping that your friends will return and overcome my men." He shook his head. "That is highly unlikely, since every man aboard the Destroyer is a most efficient fighter."

  "Then you've nothing to worry about."

  "Nothing, no," he agreed. He rubbed his hands together a few times, watching her. "You can save us all a good deal of trouble, my dear, if you'll tell me now what I want to know. I actually mean your children no harm."

  "How many children have you killed so far in your career, Commandent? When you bomb cities and—"

  "Those aren't children, they're statistics merely," he said with a bleak smile. "Where did those other two ships come from? Who was aboard?"

  "I have no idea."

  "But you do," he said, growing angry. "I know they escorted your ship here. The ships are not from Lunar Seven or any other known planet."

  "Makes for quite a puzzle, doesn't it?"

  He strode across the room and took hold of both of her shoulders. "Tell me," he shouted, shaking her.

  Sarah made no reply at all.

  Leiter made an angry growling noise and threw her back down into the chair. "You're being a fool, nothing more," he said as he walked back to the fire. "Sooner or later we'll capture not only your children but all the others as well. If you . . . yes, what is it?"

  The door had opened and a uniformed man came into the room. He saluted, hand ticking smartly against his dark helmet.

  Leiter's eyes narrowed. "I instructed you to stay outside and stand watch," he said.

  "Something's come up, sir." The uniformed man marched into the room.

  Two more followed him in out of the darkness.

  The commandent said, "What's going on, you idiots? You can't all abandon your duties to—"

  "Oh, but this is very important," said another of the guards, puffing on his cigar.

  Leiter started walking toward him. "Why are you smoking on duty?"

  "Well, the kind of duties I have call for a little diversion now and then, old chum." He drew a pistol from his holster and pointed it at the commandent. "Now, I suggest you put your hands up high."

  "What?"

  Starbuck removed the borrowed helmet and grinned at the perplexed Commandent Leiter. "Your boys are slumbering out on the grass," he explained. "We . . . well, we took advantage of 'em, I fear. Snuck up and decked the whole set before they even knew what hit 'em. Hardly sporting, but very effective. Now we have you, too."

  Leiter tried a confident laugh. "I still have several highly efficient men aboard my ship," he said, drawing himself up straight. "When we don't return by a given time, they'll storm this place and whip the lot of you from—"

  "You're using the wrong tense, old buddy," Apollo told him as he got out of his helmet. "You had a crew."

  Exhaling smoke, Starbuck said, "We paid them a surprise visit before dropping in here."

  "I don't believe—"

  "Believe it or not," said Starbuck, grin widening, "you've lost this round, Commandent."

  Michael was the last to take off the enemy helmet. Doing so, he moved to the young woman's side. "Sarah, are you all right?"

  She reached up and took his hand. "Yes, I'm fine," she said, standing. "But the kids, they ran off in the forest when these people arrived. We'll have to find them."

  He nodded. "We'll do that now," he said.

  Starbuck, gun still aimed at the defeated commandent, eased nearer to the fire. "Apollo, old chum," he said. "I was thinking about that Destroyer ship these lads travel in."

  "So was I," he answered. "Roomy, isn't it?"

  "Yep, the decor is a little grim, but it would fit all of us nicely inside," said Starbuck, warming his backside at the crackling fire. "Why don't we, since our ships are on the fritz, borrow the darn thing?"

  "An excellent notion," said Apollo.

  They met them in the forest.

  Michael sensed their approach first and put a restraining arm up to halt Sarah. "People coming," he warned, drawing his pistol.

  "Maybe it's the children coming—"

  "No, these are adults."

  Three men came into view, each carrying a rifle. They slowed when they spotted Michael and Sarah on the dark path.

  "We're coming to help you," said one of the men. "My name's Sut Meadows. We're sort of neighbors."

  "If you don't want our help, just say so," another of them said. "I still think we ought to mind our own business, but Annie, my wife, insists we—"

  "Mr. Moreland here," explained Sut, "ain't nowhere as mean and ornery as he acts. Neither is his cousin Rick."

  Rick was a hefty blond young man. He gave them a tentative smile and said, "Howdy."

  Sarah took a few steps toward them. "We're hunting for the children. Have you—"

  "Course we have," said Joshua Moreland. "That's how come we're here."

  "They're all safe and sound," said Sut, grinning. "At the Moreland spread, being looked after by Mrs. Moreland. They showed up there and told about how you'd been busted in on by Alliance troops."

  "Where are they?" asked Moreland. "We decided we'd best fight 'em this time. Before they come busting in on all of us."

  "Right," agreed Rick.

  Michael said, "We appreciate your offer of help. Fortunately, they've been taken care of."

  Sut snapped his fingers. "I bet I know how, too," he said. "It was them other outlanders. That Apollo feller and his buddies. Weren't it?"

  "It was," answered Sarah. "Now can you take us to the children? I want them to know we're all right."

  "Sure, come on along," invited Moreland. "You might as well see where we live, since we're going to be stuck with each other as neighbors, I reckon. Until the Alliance strikes again, anyhow."

  Michael said, "It's just possible the Alliance is going to be leaving us alone from now on, Mr. Moreland."

  "Might as well call me Josh," he said. "How you mean?"

  Sarah said, "Our friends have thrown quite a scare into them. And I don't think they're through with them yet."

  Moreland spit into the brush. "Remains to be seen," he said. "But for now we might as well try to get along."

  "A good idea," said Michael, holding out his hand.

  Sut nudged Moreland. "Shake hands, you stubborn nitwit."

  Moreland held out his hand. "We'll see how being friendly goes," he said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The morning of departure was chill and grey.

  Sarah shivered slightly as she and Apollo stood looking at the Destroyer ship some thousand yards uphill. "I will miss you," she said softly.

  "I know," he said. "Someday, maybe, we'll see each other again."

  "No." She shook her head. "This is the last time."

  "I think you'll be able to have a pretty good life here on Paradeen now."

  "Yes, I suppose," she said. "We have new friends and . . . well, eventually Michael and I may like each other a good deal more than we do now."

  "Seems to me he's pretty fond of you right now, Sarah."

  She looked away, toward the forest. "There's one last thing I have to talk about with you, Apollo."

  He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "I know what you're going to tell me," he said.

  "About who smashed your ships?"

  "Yes, I knew you'd done it," he said.

  "It was such an awful thing to do," she said, "so mean and stupid."

  "I understand why, Sarah," he said. "You wanted us to stay and when persuasion didn't work, you took a drastic step."

  "I was so angry," she said. "At you, at Michael, at this whole damn planet. My father was dead and you were deserting me, too."

  "Most of us lose control a few times in our lives," he said. "At least you didn't strand us on Paradeen. The Destroyer came along at just the right time."

  "But if it hadn't—"

  "Oh, Starbuck and I would've been able to patch at least one ship and get back to the Galactica for help."r />
  "You think I'm just a spoiled child, not a woman. I can tell by the tone of your voice."

  "You acted on impulse," Apollo said. "I don't much admire what you did, Sarah, but I understand why. And as for your being a child . . ."

  Gently, he turned her to face him. Leaning, he kissed her once.

  Starbuck hurried along the dark corridor of the Destroyer, blowing cigar smoke up toward the strutted ceiling. "Galactica, here I come," he was singing to himself.

  "Hey!"

  He slowed as a door opened beside him. "Ah, my favorite passenger and the unofficial mascot of the whole—"

  "Humdingers! Will you stop babbling, Starbuck, and let a person get a word in," requested Queenie, who had her red hair braided and was clad in a suit of workclothes. "I want to talk to you."

  "I'm enroute to the bridge to consult with Apollo," he told her. "According to my calculations, child, we ought to be nearing the Galactica after many long and weary days in space aboard this flying mortuary of a ship."

  "Well, dang, that's exactly what I mean to talk about," the girl said, leaning in the doorway of her cabin.

  Starbuck smote the side of his head. "Now don't go telling me you're sorry you came and want to be hauled back home to Paradeen."

  "Paradeen you can stuff in your nose," she said. "What I'm fretful about, Starbuck, is this here battlestar of yours."

  "Queenie, they're going to love you on the battlestar," he assured the worried young woman. "I can name you a dozen gents who'll fall at your feet in awe. Besides me there's an ample chap name of Jolly and Chavez and—"

  "Hush," she requested, touching his hand. "You can sweet talk me all you want, but I know what I am."

  "You're a cute little redhead with all sorts of talents, wild and otherwise. What the heck is wrong with that?"

  "I'm just a girl who ran with a gang in the ruins of the City," she said. "They'll all know that when they see me. I mean, your friend Cassie is so . . . well, she's a lady."

  Starbuck laughed. "So are you," he said.

  "They'll laugh at me, make fun."

  He leaned close to her. "Listen, pet," he said. "Everybody gets a certain amount of razzing when he or she goes into a new situation. Heck, now and then even someone as flawless as yours truly gets kidded. What you have to do is ignore it."

  "Easy to say, but—"

  "I will guarantee that within a couple of months on the Galactica you'll be one of the gang," he said. "One of the Galactica gang, that is. Just remember, you're pretty and smart . . . and, listen, most everybody is going to fall under the spell of that red hair."

  "I surely hope so."

  He kissed her on the cheek. "Be of stout heart, Queenie," he said. "With Starbuck as your champion no harm can befall you."

  "Okay," she said, smiling hopefully and stepping back inside her cabin.

  Grinning, Starbuck continued on his way.

  He found Apollo on the bridge along with Cassie and two of the Destroyer's original crew. Commandent Leiter was also present, sitting stiffly in a chair.

  "Ah," said Starbuck, puffing on his cigar as he came across the room, "just think. In a short time I'll be snoozing in my own little bed again."

  "Yeah, we're getting close to the Galactica," said Apollo, who was standing near a scanner screen.

  "Course, I won't get much time for sleep," said the grinning lieutenant, "since the folks'll be carrying me around on their shoulders and feting me in various ways. Bringing home all this information on Earth, that's quite an achievement. That library on Paradeen was sure a find."

  "We've got a heck of a lot more information than we had," agreed Apollo.

  "The only thing that's worrying me," said Starbuck, "is how I'm going to return those books. I'd hate to have an overdue charge slapped on me."

  "Fool," said Leiter under his breath.

  Starbuck cupped his ear. "Eh?"

  "All of you are fools," said the commandent in a louder voice. "You've gotten this far, but your day will come. You fail to realize that we have the most advanced military force in the galaxy."

  "So you've been saying," said Apollo.

  "Retribution will be swift once it's learned that you've had the audacity to—"

  "Commandent," cut in Apollo, gesturing at the screen. "I had you brought here from your quarters for a reason. You—"

  "Quarters? I don't consider the brig fitting quarters for an officer of my rank. Further, I intend to lodge a formal—"

  "Pay attention to what we're trying to show you," said Starbuck. "I really think it'll change your outlook."

  "Nonsense. I . . ." He leaned forward in his seat, staring now at the screen. "Good lord, what is that?"

  On the screen showed the Battlestar Galactica.

  "It's our home ship," said Apollo. "We'll be docking there in a matter of hours."

  Leiter ran his tongue over his dry lips. "I . . . I've never seen anything as big as that. Never . . ."

  Apollo folded his arms and looked full at the commandent. "What was that you were telling us about this invincible Alliance of yours?" he asked.

  There was no immediate answer.

  Table of Contents

  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