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Concerns

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"Sergeant…" Lee asked.

Venner looked at him. "What is it, Captain?"

"What's the time?"

Venner looked at his wrist a second. "1215 Hours, sir."

Lee blinked. "Wow… thank you." And then he moved to his bunk and sat at the edge. He stared down at the floor in thought.

Okay… the fight happened at 2 in the morning… it's 12:15 now… so I've been in here for 10 hours… frak, it seems like a long time… and I didn't do nothing! Gods, Dad is such a prick… and Thrace, of all people, is let loose. She's still mad at me. I had really upset her by yelling at her. It's just… I thought I could help. I was surprised, shocked, and angry. Most of all, I was tired… I still am.

He looked over to the other two cells. Hoover was restlessly sleeping in her bunk and Jigger was sitting against the bars with his eyes closed.

Either meditating or sleeping… or both… but, man, they're stuck in here for thirty days. THIRTY DAYS. Must seem like forever to them… I can hardly stand a week in this frakking place.

The two Marines had gone on and off to use the bathroom, and had quietly talked to each other to avoid sleep. But it was evident, they were tired. Lee even noticed Kelso walking with his eyes half-closed.

Poor guys… hate to be them. I bet they hate being guards, too.

A proper Marine officer is not on board, sadly. All we have is Vera Hadrian, and she's very troublesome. Hey, she accused my father, Chief Tyrol, and Boomer of being Cylons. What a ridiculous thought, my father a Cylon…

…but anything is possible… however, Hadrian is an ineffective Marine over-all. Venner's more capable of the job than Hadrian. But, she is the Master-At-Arms… that's the only proper sheriff we can have right now.

He noticed Jigger moving in his cell. He stood up to stretch his legs, and then lightly gripped his bowels.

"Hey, uh, Marines?" he asked. The two Marines looked at him.

"Um, can I take a trip to the john, please?" he requested.

"You DO have a toilet in your cell, Private," Kelso answered.

Jigger looked at the back of his cell and, sure enough, saw a toilet in a private nook in the corner.

"You gotta be FRAKKING me…" he uttered, looking back at the marines. "Can't I just use the lavatories?"

"You can only use yours, Jigger. If…" Venner started, and then yawned. "If you have a problem with it, too bad. You're the detainee; you ain't got enough luxuries as free people do."

Jigger shook his head and snorted. "Frak me…" and he stepped into the nook, opened his pants, and soon enough the sound of liquid against metal lightly echoed.

Lee screwed up his face. Yech, nasty. … Damn me, I think I smell it from here!

Then he laughed to himself. Kara would have done the same... heh, I know she would've.

He looked at the wall.

I hope she's doing alright.

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She was happy to be back in her Viper again; nothing like flying in empty space without a whole lot of troubles to bother her. It was like paradise in her cockpit.

"Starbuck, Wheezer," said the Raptor pilot. "How ya doin'?"

"Frakking great."

"Good, good."

Hotdog knew something was wrong. She was still apparently mad from the game; but also at something else. Hotdog had an idea.

"Starbuck, Hotdog," he said.

"Shut the frak up, I'm enjoying space," she said.

"Nah, I wanna talk to ya."

"We're on a CAP, we don't talk: we patrol. Got the picture?"

"Sir, all due respect, shut the frak up; you're still mad.'

"You're making me mad, Hotdog."

"NO, that's not it!"

"It's none of your concern."

"Tell me, please!"

"NO!"

Radio silence. Hotdog gave up, grumbling to himself and glaring at the asteroid belt.

Kara had her nose flared and her jaw tensed. She was in fact very mad and upset. But she did not want to have someone like Hotdog know. She was mad for her own reasons, and she did not give a frak if anyone cared.

She had to admit, though… Hotdog seemed concerned.

Hotdog made a scoff. "Well, CAG," he said. "Looks like we're going to be out here for a while. The belt looks really big."

The Raptor pilot was playing silent.

Kara closed her eyes. Gods, why did I get stuck with Hotdog? What did I do to deserve this? I just want to get this damn patrol done and get some sleep. Sleep… slee… l— no, shut up, Kara.

She shook herself mentally. "How are the scans, Wheezer?"

"Nothing so far."

She nodded. Great. Nothing. "Good." She muttered.

They cruised for a long while. The engines' noises were the only thing audible to everyone's ears. The sound of empty space around their ships, the silence of what lay ahead of them. It was an incredible thing; Space. It was completely of all air, and could take the life of a person within one breath.

It was a deadly silence.

Kara admitted she felt touched Hotdog was curious; maybe even worried. Maybe he should know.

"Hotdog," she said, drifting from the Raptor a bit.

As though understanding her drift, the Raptor silenced his com. Frequencies between Thrace and Constanza.

Hotdog hovered by her side. "Yeah, boss?'

She hesitated. She was going to tell him, but she wanted to tell it the right way; not to give him ideas but to explain enough.

"I am mad," she said, admitting it. "Like an idiot, I…" she was remembering Lee's words. "Like a stupid idiot, I hosted a triad game in the middle of the night; where everyone was tired and needed sleep. It's my fault I started it, and it's my fault I didn't end it…" she was frowning. It was hard for a person to admit their faults to another person; especially for Starbuck.

Hotdog just sat and listened. "Yeah?"

Kara nodded. "Yeah. I guess you can say I, uh, was absent minded. I told you you should've had the mindspace for the game… well, to be honest, I wasn't in the right mindspace myself… I… I can't really explain myself, can I?"

Hotdog cleared his throat gently. "With all due respect, we all have been bored over the last two weeks. No Cylons; lost in space… we've had months without the Cylons, but… it's just something does not feel right."

"Being lost in space never feels right," Kara countered.

"Neither does having survived a horrible attack," said Hotdog.

"Oh yeah…" Kara said, remembering that incident; "that was a bad time."

"It shouldn't surprise us that we're not just bored," said Hotdog. "We were hit hard. We lost a lot of good men."

Kara couldn't help but look at Hotdog in his cockpit. This was the first time he ever seemed philosophical to anyone. She could tell, though, he himself was reluctant to talk about himself.

She grinned. "Not getting soft on me, are you, Hotdog?" she asked, wanting to see how he would react.

Sure enough, he blinked, and then shook his head. "I, uh, well, just personal thought. Just me babbling, Starbuck."

She smiled. "Thank you, Hotdog."

Hotdog looked at her. He looked at her real long… "You are strange, sir." He couldn't understand Starbuck's motive for this conversation, now.

She laughed. "Thank the Gods."

Kara and Hotdog drifted back to the Raptor. Wheezer opened up the frequencies again.

"Anything new, Wheezer?"

"Nope; still nothing."

'Well, we'll keep looking."

"Till when, Starbuck?"

"Till we find something. Come on, you're not giving up on our adventure, are we?"

"Pfft, me give up? You're crazy, Starbuck."

She laughed evilly. "Yes, I know."

We are on an adventure, aren't we? She thought to herself. Yes, yes, we are. It's going to be a fun one; I can feel it.

I only wish Lee could've been here.

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"How is he?" a voice from behind him asked.

Dr. Cottle, the old Major Doctor, looked over his shoulder and noticed a young woman, an ensign, standing nearby. She was a young and pretty woman, and she looked really worried.

"He's alright," he said; "he's just asleep, right now. He's recovering from shock. He had a lot of hell to deal with."

She nodded. "So I've heard. Um, my name is Mariam. I'm his girlfriend."

"Ahh, yes," Cottle said, nodding his head. "Well, I don't think he'd mind your company even in his unconscious state."

She smiled. "Thank you, sir. I'd like to be with him."

Cottle motioned an over to a chair near the bed. "Go right ahead."

She moved over to the chair, and she lightly grasped Slipdog's hand.

Dr. Cottle made his way to another patient in Life Station. This man was a soldier who got heavily injured during the one-on-one fight with a Cylon, without any weapons. The man had lost all his weapons and was up against a Cylon which had its weapons discarded. He fought until he lost an arm and an eye, and was close to death. Some people thought he wasn't going to survive.

Cottle checked his pulse. No… no… nothing… he was gone.

Grimly, he put a hand on the patient's bandaged forehead. "Go in peace, young soldier. You did a brave job out there. Only wish you stayed around to show for it." And then sadly pulled the covers over his face.

Poor man…

Two people had come into Life Station just then. Dr. Cottle looked over to see them, quite surprised to see that they were a Private and Chief Tyrol. Tyrol's forehead was covered by a heavily bloodied bandaged, and was using the private as support.

Dr. Cottle blinked at the sight of the bloodied forehead

A nurse came to greet them, seeing that Tyrol's head was in need of care.

"Oh my god!" she gasped. "Chief, what happened?"

Tyrol tried to answer, but all that came out were pained murmurs and uncontrolled stammering. His eyes began twitching as well.

The Private answered very hastily. "We, uh, well, the Chief here needs help STAT!"

Dr. Cottle rushed over to them. He was awfully curious about what happened. He probably hurt himself during some deckwork, but Dr. Cottle wanted to be sure.

The nurse was about to escort them to a bed when Dr. Cottle approached them.

"What happened?" Dr. Cottle said, urging the nurse to continue leading Tyrol to a bed.

"I don't know!" she said; "they won't tell me!"

Dr. Cottle glanced upon Tyrol for a second, and then to the Private. "What's going on, Sergeant?"

"Sir!" he said, recognizing the Major. With the help of a nurse, he set Tyrol down on the bed. The chief began humming in pain as he started rubbing around the center of his forehead.

"What happened?" repeated the major firmly.

The Private looked at him complexly. "Um, sir, the explanation would require a while of explaining."

"Give me the truth, Private; I don't give a damn about time. Gimme your short version if you have to!" demanded the Major. The Chief was in dire need of attention. The nurse was trying to calm him down, trying to see what was underneath the bandage.

The Private gulped. "Sir, we were going to flush a spider we had found on Slipdog's ship out into space, when it broke out and attacked the Chief. We tried—another Private, Sergeant Blackburn and myself—to get it off, but when we tried shooting it, it shot us in the eyes with a web-like substance and escaped into the air ducts. When we got the webs off us, we discovered that…" he motioned to Tyrol.

Dr. Cottle moved the Nurse out of the way and stood before Tyrol. Tyrol's eyes were closed in pain.

"Chief," he said softly. "Chief?"

Tyrol looked at him.

"Chief, can you speak?" he asked, hoping he could.

Tyrol's eyes shut closed in pain for a moment, and then he shook his head.

"Now, just out of medical curiosity, was the bandage applied beforehand?" asked Cottle.

Tyrol, again, shook his head.

"Alright," Cottle nodded. Now he know what to do next. "I'm going to remove the bandage— no, no, don't worry Tyrol, don't worry. I'm going to remove the bandage and see what we've got here…"

Tyrol was hesitant for a moment, and then he removed his hand and nodded. He waited for Cottle to do so.

Cottle pulled on a pair of protective gloves and began unraveling the bloodied cloth. It seemed to be wrapped around numerous times.

Gods, what the hell?

"Private," Cottle said, clearing his throat, as he was unraveling the Chief. "Do finish what you were talking about… about what you saw."

"Sir, Tyrol had his hand on his forehead," said the Private; "and when we forced his hand away…"

Cottle had unraveled the last layer and revealed the Chief's problem. It froze Cottle.

His entire head was covered in blood, but underneath the blood were very multiple groups of small bumps and bulges. Some were big, while some were very miniscule. But they looked very bad.

One could think it was acne; but Cottle had studied the processes of how spiders laid their eggs in their prey.

"Nurse, quickly," Cottle said off the start; "go get the surgery room prepared."

The nurse's eyes were wide in awe. "Yes sir…!" and rushed off.

The Private stared at the bulges. "Why surgery?"

"The chief here," said Cottle, getting up and fetching something to stop the bleeding and also get himself prepared for surgery; "has eggs implanted in his forehead.'

The Private's jaw dropped. "Gods!"

"Luckily, the eggs did not reach the skull, so the Chief is safe. HOWEVER, if we want the Chief to stay in good order and to keep the ship free of pests, we are going to have to remove the eggs."

"You… you can do that?" the Private inquired; it was obvious his stomach felt like it was turning upside down.

"You can see the eggs, right?" the Doctor rhetorically asked.

"Yes, but—"

"The eggs are right in the surface," said the doctor. "It's apparent your spider had only time to insert the eggs into his pores. So, we're going to have to perform a very complicated procedure of popping those eggs and then clearing the pores."

The Private felt like barfing. "Um… wow…"

The Doctor nodded. "Yeah. Like acne, you know?" and patted him on the back. "Just stay with the Chief until I come back."

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Boomer had the Raptor hover right outside the asteroid belt as the Vipers got the communications frequencies secured and had the inflight cameras set on 'filming'. The two pilots, Do and Smith, had their Vipers equipped with an all-capturing visual video camera to show everyone on Galactica what they were seeing. The footage was coming in live to Galactica.

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And the footage came clear.

"Do, Smith," said Dualla; "we have footage. Repeated, we have footage."

Adama watched the screen carefully, not meaning to miss a single shot.

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"Copy that, Galactica," replied Do. "We are about to make our investigation of the mysterious asteroid belt. If we're lucky we can find Zapper's ship and give a proper burial."

"Don't count on that," cut in Boomer. "This being an asteroid field, we may never find his ship."

Do reluctantly sighed. "Never mind on that then. We are going to take an overhead look. Going in is too dangers. Do out."

"Copy that, Do. Be careful."

With that, the three ships positioned their ships until they were over the belt. They saw that it stretched on for what seemed to be forever and around nothing in particular. It was like the belt was orbiting an invisible force.

"Gods, that's huge," said Smith almost breathlessly.

The width of the belt was about as huge as a city; really huge. It could be hiding many things in there.

"Enough chatter, let's move," said Boomer.

"Copy that, Boomer. Let's go."

They began their way over the belt, staying well away from the reach of any asteroid within asteroid yet close enough to catch footage on camera. They could zoom in and out to see between asteroids that hang together or well past an asteroid that was in the way.

The three ships had only been searching for a few minutes (it was ten minutes until it would be noon) before the two Vipers discovered that their equipment started to malfunction or get fuzzed up.

The Raptor was more then ten meters away from the two Vipers, who were closer to the belt; the systems on that ship were functioning.

"Boomer, I'm getting a strange reaction from my electronics here," said Do.

"Mine too."

Racetrack, the Electronic Countermeasures Officer, began a scan over the area to see if there were any anti-electronics going around.

"Yeah, I can see you both are a little fuzzy," said Racetrack. "Could be interference from the asteroids."

"Yeah, I guess," said Do. "Unless— what the frak? Look at your DRADISes; do you see it?"

Smith, Racetrack, and Boomer checked their DRADIS consoles. "No, I don't see anything," the Raptor crew said.

"I see it!" said Smith. "Looks like a skull's face."

"What!" exclaimed Racetrack.

"Yeah, and it seems to be disruptive my camera feed," said Do. "Couldja please find a way to get rid of it, please, Racetrack?"

"I'll try," replied Racetrack very irritably. "It's not like I'm a wizard to provide instant pleasure, you know."

"We'll have to look into that later, Racetrack," joked Smith.

"Shut the frak up, Knockers."

"Nah, I'll letcha do that when we get back to the Galactica."

"Guys, shut the chatter," insisted Boomer. "Getting anything Racetrack?"

"I'm trying to begin!"

"Guys, be quiet, you hear?"

"Yes, sir."

A few moments of silence for everyone while Racetrack searched for a possible solution to the problem.

"Got it!" she exclaimed.

"Wait, it's gone," said Smith.

"What?"

"The face, it's gone."

"What do you frakking mean it's gone!" exclaimed Boomer.

"It's just gone, sir! Like gas from an old fart in the wind!"

"Don't ever use that terminology against."

"But seriously it's gone," said Do. "Everything's functioning. You said you found something, Racetrack?"

"Yeah, it looks like a beacon."

"Where?"

"Somewhere in Sector N5. I'll transmit the location to your DRADIS."

"Ahh, I see it. Do you predict any danger?"

"Not really," said Boomer.

"Boomer, Smith, let's be distant from the belt now," Do said. The ships widened the distance between them and the belt. "We don't know what we're up against; it could be anything. All we know is that it tore up Slipdog pretty bad. So let's check it out, and see what we get."

"Yes, sir."

And they hovered on over to where the beacon was coming from. It was unlike anything they expected.

…

"It's a giant asteroid, sir," replied Do.

"Yes, I can see that clearly," Adama replied, thoughtfully.

Racetrack kept going over the data again and again. The beacon was coming from the asteroid alright.

The asteroid was larger than the Galactica, or even four Battlestars put together. It looked like a giant, brown, rocky egg. Evidently there were holes in it; like little holes to crawl into.

"My Gods…" muttered Boomer. "Waddya think Slipdog and Zapper found this?"

"Who knows, Lieutenant," said the Commander. "But if a beacon is coming out from the asteroid, it's possible you may have some kind of electronic presence nearby."

"Do you think it could be the enemy?" asked Smith.

"We won't know until we investigate."

"So, we're going in?" asked Do.

"Be careful."

"Copy that, Galactica," said Do.

"So, we're going in…" echoed Smith.

"Hang in there, Smith, stand fast," said Do. "Alright, Boomer, Racetrack, got us covered?"

"No electronics— other than the beacon," said Boomer. "So you're probably alright."

"Don't be too certain, boys," said Racetrack. "Something might pop outta that hole and eat ya good."

"Thanks for that lovely image, Lieutenant…" grumbled Smith.

Racetrack grinned. "Anytime, Knockers."

"Like the Commander said," said Boomer; "Who knows. We can't be sure the enemy is Cylon or not. If it's Cylon, we know how to deal with it. If not, we need to be extra careful."

"Copy that, Boomer," said Do. "Smith and I will need you to follow behind us, but not too close; just close enough to check up on us and insure we're alright. Smith, we're using our Mark One Eyeballs."

"Yes sir."

Do checked a few more things in his head. "Alright, we ready?"

"Whenever you are, Do," said Boomer.

"Smith, linger behind a bit. The holes may not be big enough for us to fit in or maneuver. I'll go ahead and check one first."

"Yes sir."

"Let's move in."

The Vipers moved in to the asteroid. As they got close, Smith hung back with Boomer. Do carefully exercised himself in front of the mouth of a hole that was big enough to fit him. The lights on the tips of his Viper Mark VII's wings, the insides were lit.

"Woah…" he uttered.

"What do you see, Do?" asked Smith.

"Wow, I saw little things scurry in all directions for a second," said Do.

"what do you mean?"

"They looked like spiders. But don't worry; they're all in little nooks. Besides, they're too small to harm the ship. Don't worry," said Do. And he started to move in.

"Please, just stop NOW, Do," said Boomer; "we've already had one pilot kill himself for being nosey. Take it easy, Do.'

Do's sigh came apparent on the com. "You're right." he backed up a bit. "So far… I don't see anything. Then again, I probably will as I progress into the asteroid."

"Be careful, sir," said Racetrack.

"You got it," he replied. He gradually moved into the hole at a slow rate, getting a chance to look at his surroundings; see if everything was alright. So far, it was all rock. Those spiders were no where to be seen.

Smith waited expectantly, hovering several meters away from Boomer on her port.

"Hey, Knockers," Boomer said, looking over to port. "How ya doin'?"

"Doin' alright, Boomer," he replied, sounding very sure of himself. "Just worried for ole Slipdog. His girlfriend is probably worried sick about him."

"She probably is," Boomer said, dreading to hear that word 'girlfriend'. Racetrack glanced at her a bit before looking back on her console.

"A nice girl," said Smith. "Very pretty, very intelligent. From the Enkidu; Slipdog met her while doing ship searches for probable Cylon nukes. Both of 'em hit it off well."

"Did they, huh?" Boomer said, urging him to stop the conversation.

"Yeah, they did," he said, stopping the conversation at last.

"How's everything in there, Do?" asked Racetrack.

"It's pretty good in here," he replied.

Smith laughed. "You're frakking me, right?"

"What, what do you mean?"

"You sound like it's cozy in there."

"Nah I don't, smart ass; I meant I don't see anything. Space bugs probably just out for a cruise on this here rock. Don't see anything out of the blue— wait, I think I see…"

Everyone's hearts started pumping. "What!" said Boomer.

"…nah, it's nothing. Just a rock with a face."

"A rock with a face?" repeated Boomer incredulously

"Yeah, a rock with a face." Do's Viper was backing out of the hole.

Everyone then settled.

"You bastard," muttered Boomer.

"What?"

"You got us excited for a moment!"

"Not my fault, now! Is it?" he asked.

"You have to admit it to her, she's right, boss," said Smith.

"Yeah, admit it like you're crying and wanting forgiveness," growled Boomer.

"Frak you, Boomer!" laughed Do.

"Hey, give it up to the lady, boys," said Racetrack.

"So say we all, girl!" Boomer agreed.

"Heh, crazy girls," muttered Do.

"What did you say?" quipped Boomer.

"Nothing you wanted to hear, Boomer."

"Yeah, right, whatever. How are the cameras?"

"Doing good," said Do.

"Fine over here," said Smith.

Racetrack looked over her console. "No electronic frequencies. In fact… the beacons gone."

"What?" Do said in a refutable manner.

"Hey, don't get angry at me; I didn't do anything, sirs," Racetrack defended herself.

"Scan the area again," he said.

"Already on it," Racetrack did a few buttons here and there, a few types: nothing. "Got nothing."

Smith looked over at Do's Viper and laughed. "Hey, Do, you got a few critters on your Viper."

Sure enough, Do had a swarm of blue, nasty looking spiders crawling all over his ship.

Do sighed. "Gods damnit…"

Boomer laughed again. "Got some new friends, Do!"

"Well, I ain't takin' em home to say hey to momma," grumbled Do, shaking his Viper. "Get off me, you little buggers!"

Suddenly, one of the spiders got on the canopy and started smacking it.

"SHIIIIIT!" gasped Do, shaking the Viper even harder.

Smith gasped. "DO!"

Boomer watched. "Holy frak, it's trying to break into the cockpit!"

"It's strong, too!" said Do.

Two more spiders began banging on the canopy, and even on the hull. They were ferocious looking things.

"Gods, someone help me! I can't shake 'em off!" howled Do.

"Do, Adama, what is going on there?" the Commander's voice came through the com.

"Sir! I'm being attacked by some spiders out from the asteroid," reported Do. "They are trying to break into the cockpit, and they look powerful."

"Spiders you say?"

"Yes, sir."

A slight pause.

"Alright. Get those spiders off for your Lieutenant, you hear?"

"Yes sir! I'm working on it!"

Smith was panicking in his cockpit. "Shit, man, we do we do!"

"Shoot the damn things!"

"NO!" shouted Boomer. "Don't even THINK about it, Smith. Just because Starbuck can get away with it, doesn't mean you get to as well."

"Speaking of Starbuck, where the frak is she?"

"DOESN'T MATTER!" growled Do. The spiders were getting more intense. "Think of the situation, boy!"

"We can't shoot 'em, we can't rub 'em off," Racetrack grumbled. "we could send a shortwave frequency to shock the Viper, and then have someone come over to tow Do back—"

"WHAT THE FRAK?" screamed Do.

Smith came over to Do, and just as he reached the ship, he stuck his nose up so that the turbo thrusters in the back of his Viper were emitting their blue flames on Do's ship.

"What the hell is he doing!" gasped Racetrack, rushing to the front of the Raptor and watching.

The spiders could see the flames coming down on them, and immediately left the ship, jumping onto another asteroid. The ones on the cockpit followed suit.

Smith pulled out and away from Do's ship. "You alright, Sir?"

Do was completely stunned. "Ho… ly… Frak… king… gods!"

"Chaisuth," gasped Racetrack; "what gave you that idea, Knockers?"

"I dunno," said Smith; "everyone was talking too much."

"Well, you burned my ship," grumbled Do; the hull of his ship was covered in black torch marks. "I hope you're happy."

"As long as you are happy to be alive, Lieutenant," said Smith.

Do sighed. "I am." He looked over at the Raptor. "Any more electronic frequencies?"

Racetrack blanked for a second. "Oh! Oh, oh, right…" she moved up to her console, and gasped. "HOLY FRAK!"

"What!" gasped Boomer.

"Oh frak, oh frak…" muttered Racetrack.

"Is something wrong?" Do nervously asked.

"Look over the asteroid!"

Everyone's eyes traced over to the top of the asteroid.

"Break off! Break off!" Do ordered; "let's get back to the ship!"

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