THE SCHOOL OF FEAR

CHAPTER 15

The weirdo joys of blockade duty, Ares thought as he abstractly studied the stars hanging outside Flashbolt’s cockpit windows. Food in gloopy blocks. Bumping your head on the ceiling. Seeing how really bizarre Leah’s hair gets in zero-G. They were lurking near a warp portal stealthed; an electronic field surrounded them, shielding them from enemy radar. To protect against detection by other scanners they existed on battery power only, augmented by retractable solar panels that converted the faint light from Gamoray’s distant sun to energy, and their gravitic drive was off, which left them living in freefall. Once his initial nausea wore off Ares found he rather enjoyed it.
The cockpit door opened and Rhiannon rather cautiously floated in. From her position above and behind him she glanced over the instrumentation, then remarked dryly, “I just found out something interesting.”
“What’s that?”
“Making love in zero-G is not what it’s cracked up to be.”
“Um. Well, look at the bright side; at least you’re feeling well enough to be interested.”
“True. Anything going on up here?”
“Nope. Peace and quiet everywhere,” Ares said, expansively gesturing at the readouts.”
“Hmph. It’s been two sectons. I keep expecting them to do...well, something.”
“The longer they wait the better; the more likely it is we’ll have some support here.”
“True enough.” Rhiannon pulled herself down into her seat and hooked her seat harness loosely around her. “All right, you’re off.”
“Good. Food first, then sleep,” he decided. He was halfway out the door when the alarms went off. He did a neat tuck and roll and was back in his seat in a flash. “What is it?”
“Radion flux; something coming through the gate,” she replied.
“Likely to be one of ours, then.”
“Hopefully. Get Leah up here. Master arm on.” They were positioned thousands of maxims from the gate, in a place more suitable to guard an attempt at escape rather than incursion into it. “Destealth,” Rhiannon added, preparatory to starting the gravitic drive. As gravity returned, they heard a muffled thump! behind them.
Leah limped into the cockpit, rubbing ruefully at assorted sore spots. “You could have warned me,” she said mildly.
“Sorry,” Rhiannon apologized, adding, “We have a ship coming through the gate.”
“Coming through now,” Ares confirmed.
Ahead of them, visible only as a speck through the cockpit ports but in considerably greater detail on their scanner readouts, a ship materialized into the Gamoray system, vast, smooth, black, and terrifyingly impressive,
“Battlecruiser,” said Ares softly.
“Looks like it,” Rhiannon confirmed, smiling. “Query their IFF.” In a micron the reply appeared on their screens: GLORY, BATTLECRUISER, COMMANDER NIGAR, FIRST BATTLECRUISER SQUADRON. As the huge ship idled away from the gate it retracted its lower pair of radiators and started to turn onto a new course heading. “They could at least say hello,” Rhiannon muttered.
“We’re below notice,” said Ares. “They did query our IFF, though. They must have been expecting something; their weapons bay doors were open.”
“I noticed that.”
Glory had pulled nearly a hundred maxims clear of the gate and was already heading across the system when the second ship appeared, this one another battlecruiser of the same class, Fame. She turned onto another course, and Leah ran a quick projection.
“They’re moving out to cover two of the other portals,” she said.
“The ones Triumph and Columbia already have covered,” Rhiannon observed. “They can always change once they find out what our dispositions are.”
As they watched, a third ship entered the system, another battlecruiser, bigger and newer than the first pair, turning to make for yet another warp portal. Her IFF data came up on Rhiannon’s monitor: ORION, HEAVY BATTLECRUISER, COMMANDER TIMIAK; FLAGSHIP, FIRST BATTLECRUISER SQUADRON, FLEET COMMANDER DIRCE.
Rhiannon sat back and smiled beatifically. A healing warmth spread pleasantly through her. A glance at Ares showed that he shared her cheer.
“Dirce the hammer. Suddenly, I feel very good indeed.”
“Yes indeed,” Rhiannon agreed cheerfully. “Here commences the kicking of astrums and the taking of names.”

“We encountered Galactica’s scout just after we left our home systems,” Dirce confirmed to Miriam as the latter welcomed her aboard Victory. “I’m not sure that Adama was overjoyed that Father and Tigh anticipated him, but he confirmed our orders.”
“I’m glad they sent you. The situation has deteriorated since they left.”
“Adama thought it would.” Dirce looked searchingly around Victory’s hangar bay, seemed to find everything in order, then smiled shortly at her younger sister. “We need to talk.”
“This way,” Miriam said, and in a centon they were in her quarters.
Dirce flopped comfortably down on the couch and said, “One thing I always liked about you, you appreciate good furniture.”
“It’s genetic, I think.”
“Where’s Noday?”
“Forward, going over things with the Weapons Officer. I feel rather safer when she’s looking over people’s shoulders.”
“She doesn’t miss much.”
“Can I get you something?”
“No, thank you.” As Miriam sat down beside her, Dirce went on, “Actually, I’m rather glad you happened to be in this particular spot. I did want to have a chance to talk to you before I saw Aeneas.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m replacing him as commander-in-chief on this station.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Dirce raised an eyebrow in response, clearly inviting a continuation. Miriam went on, “This has all hit him rather hard. Fighting the Cylons is one thing...some people find fighting living beings a little overwhelming. Aeneas was never on Borallus.”
“That was the impression Adama had,” Dirce agreed.
“And since then, one of his pilots was killed...he evidently had a relationship of some sort with her.” Miriam shrugged. “I can’t blame him, but....”
“Hm. Not really, but....” Dirce stopped, studied the portrait of Hector for a centon, smiled at some old memory, then she said, her expression returning to its more usual control, “I think Father and Tigh had other motives in mind. Aeneas is, I think you will agree, a very nice man.”
“He is. I’ve always liked him.”
“Exactly. Nobody is afraid of him. Which may be why they sent me.”
“At one time I would have agreed that sending you to intimidate the Gamoreans would be a marvelous idea. Now...did Adama tell you anything about Count Iblis?”
“What he knew, which wasn’t much. What’s this about him being able to read minds? That sounds like felgercarb to me.”
“Believe it. Did you know Aisling at all?”
“Yes, why?”
“I would be inclined to trust what she says, wouldn’t you?”
“Well, yes.”
“She’s the one we have the information from. The point I’m trying to make is this; whether or not Cain is afraid of you doesn’t matter. Iblis doesn’t know or care who you are, and the warriors under his command are likely not to care either.”
“I shall have to meet this man,” Dirce decided.
“I’m not so sure he is a man.”
“Hm. How do you think Aeneas will react to be being superseded?”
“He’s a good officer. He follows orders.”
“And the rest of you?”
“Starbuck will be happy; I don’t think Apollo will mind. And obviously, no problems here.”
“Good. Miriam,” Dirce went on, switching topics instantaneously as was her wont, “why in hades did you let Rhiannon get involved with that navigator?”
Miriam blinked, then said, “I had nothing to do with it. I can hardly tell her who to pursue. Frankly, I’m glad she found her. Before that I gather she was sleeping with any woman who slowed down enough for her to catch.”
“It’s just...my navigator is dead, and yours is brain-damaged. It’s a bad thing, to get involved with a navigator.”
Miriam put her arm around her sister. “Her navigator may be luckier than ours.”
With a sigh, Dirce said, “True. And far be it from me to begrudge her any happiness; like you said, she was somewhat predatory. Taking after my horrible example, no doubt. But I worry about her.”
“We all do, but I’m getting the impression she’s indestructible.”
“Maybe, but don’t let her know that; that would be dangerous.”

Aeneas ceded command of the Third Fleet with, as Miriam had predicted, no protest. In fact, he seemed a little relieved.
The seven warships had gathered not far outside Gamoray’s orbit but well above its plane, so that they could respond instantly to any attempt at a breakout towards any of the warp portals, for their commanders to meet and plan strategy.
The first thing Dirce did after assuming command was to divide the Third Fleet into two squadrons. The first would be under her direct command and consisted of her flagship Orion, Fame, the battlestar Galactica, and Victory. The second squadron, under Aeneas’ command, consisted of Columbia as flagship, plus Glory and Triumph. The commanders gathered around Orion’s briefing room table studied their new orders closely.
“Questions, comments?” Dirce asked after giving them time to absorb the information.
Starbuck said, “I take it we’ll be going back on blockade.”
Dirce nodded. “For the time being.”
Apollo said, “I think what we all want to know is how much authority you have.”
“The whole thing,” she said simply. “We can declare war if need be. Hopefully. that will not prove necessary. I have on board a diplomat from the Colonies who will meet with the authorities on Gamoray and attempt to forge some kind of agreement.” From her tone of voice it was obvious that she suspected that was not possible, but it had to be tried. “She is a former Council member from Taura, Siress Tinia.”
Apollo nodded. He’d met Siress Tinia. After a long career in Taura’s planetary government she’d moved up to the First Council of the Seventy and then to the Council of Twelve. During the closing yahrens of the Thousand Yahren War she’d proven to be an astute diplomat, making several new allies for the Colonial cause, and she had left the Council to become a special envoy. Apollo had taken her aboard the Galactica to a diplomatic conference once and had come to like her. But he had to wonder if even Siress Tinia could move Count Iblis away from the course he seemed set on. Not likely, he thought. Even Dirce probably won’t move him, and she’s several kinds of scary.
Starbuck spoke up, “Um, isn’t she kind of a...well, pacifist?”
“Not hardly,” Dirce replied. “She had differences with the government on the way the Cylon War was fought. I would hope we all did. Until after the Destruction the war was insanely mismanaged, and that was what she objected to. I know her opinions in detail, and I value her and them.” After a micron to make sure that had sunk in, she continued, “I am going to request a meeting as soon as possible with the Gamoraen government, or whatever passes for it. If there is no favorable result, then we have the option to take limited offensive action.”
“What form would that take?” Miriam asked.
“My first move would likely be to destroy their bloody Cylon factory. I imagine we’ll have no problems finding volunteers for that one.”
“I think not,” Apollo murmured.
“After that, we shall see. We do need to find out the extent of their space forces. Commander Nigar of the Glory will be seeing to that.”
The tall, dark man she’d named nodded. “After the other ships are in blockade stations, we’ll move into a position from which we can reconnoiter the area where they appear to have their fleet hidden.”
“You’re going to have to get in close,” said Miriam. “The missile ships are certainly stealthed and the other ships may have active stealth or be otherwise camouflaged. Caprica was lucky to get the photographs she did.”
“If I have to, I’ll incite them,” he said. “They have to unstealth to attack.”
“That,” Akamas stated, “sounds dangerous.”
“I’m not sure I like the idea of inciting them to jump you,” Starbuck agreed. “That could start a war right there.”
“And we’d be blamed,” Miriam agreed. “It’s important that they make the first move. I don’t believe the public wants to see us starting a war.”
“We did not construct those ships,” Dirce pointed out. “They are clearly aimed at civilian targets. We are not building Cylons. They are. Whoever gets blamed for firing the first shot, the cause of the war is abundantly obvious and it’s not us. We have been absolutely blameless from day one, when one of their shuttle crews tried to rape Columbia’s scout crew. If the public has problems figuring that out, too bad.”
Unexpectedly, Apollo spoke up, “I think the Fleet Commander is right. We did reconnoiter the factory, after all. We have to know what we’re up against.”
“I agree completely, it just seems there ought to be a more...discreet way to go about it,” said Miriam. “If they want a war, fine. I don’t have a problem with that. I just don’t want us getting blamed for it.”
“The public is kind of weird that way,” Starbuck agreed. “We’re already looking at the budget cuts from hades; we don’t want it to get worse.”
“Indeed,” said Dirce. “That’s why we could only get three battlecruisers out here on short notice, although they were activating everything in sight that could be made mobile when we left. We have an office on Gamoray, correct?”
Aeneas nodded. “It’s headed by Galactica’s exec, Colonel Xaviar.”
Dirce bristled. “Relieve him immediately and get someone else down there. Who the hell had that idea? The man is an idiot, incompetent, and a bigot. Once you have his replacement there, inform whoever is in charge on the planet, Cain or Iblis or whoever, that Siress Tinia and I request a meeting, soonest.” Dirce rose and said, “Return to your ships and proceed to your assigned blockade stations. Orion will move into Gamoray orbit for the time being. Stealth down and wait for orders.”
The warriors rose from their places at the table and moved slowly towards the door, talking quietly amongst themselves. As the first of them reached the exit, the door snapped open and Colonel Paulus, Orion’s exec, burst into the room, nearly colliding with Apollo and Starbuck.
“Excuse me, sirs,” he said hurriedly, pushing past them to Dirce. “My lady, there is a ship approaching the fleet from Gamoray.”
“Red alert, battlestations,” Dirce ordered and, as Commander Timiak moved to execute the order, she asked Paulus, “What kind of ship?”
“It appears to be a small civilian shuttle, my lady.”
“Scanner reports?”
“No sign of armament; gravitic drive only. Mass and power output well within the norms for a ship of its type. Indications are that it carries two passengers, human.”
“Defectors?” Miriam suggested to Dirce.
“You think so?”
“It’s worth the risk.”
Dirce weighed her options. She didn’t particularly care for any of them. “To the bridge.”
It was a short distance from Orion’s briefing room to her bridge; while bigger than earlier battlecruisers little of the extra space had been wasted on accommodation; most of it had been packed full with more weaponry and even more powerful engines. As she went up to the command level, she asked the flight officer, “What’s their ETA?”
“Two centares, six centons at their present approach speed, my lady,” the man reported.
“Have you hailed them?”
“I was waiting for your orders, my lady.”
“Good. Hail them.” She turned to Commander Timiak and said, “Stand by to launch vipers if necessary.”
“They’re already on launch standby.”
“Excellent. Do you have the shuttle yet?” she asked the flight officer.
“Not yet, my lady. Communications are being jammed from the planet.”
Dirce looked back over her shoulder, reached out and gently pushed Starbuck aside so she could see her communications officer. “Can you punch through it?”
“I think so,” the woman said distantly, focused on her console. “It’s pretty crappy jamming, really...you’re through, my lady.”
“This is Fleet Commander Dirce of the Third Fleet,” she said to the distant shuttle. “Identify yourselves and state your intentions immediately or you will be fired upon.”
The voice that replied was scratchy from the jamming but immediately identifiable even so. “Now, Commander, you wouldn’t fire on me, would you?” Cain asked.
Don’t tempt me, Dirce thought. “Who’s with you?”
“My daughter.”
“Purpose of this flight?”
There was a pause, then Cain said, his voice sounding unusually reflective, “I’m not sure if this is a defection or just a return to sanity. Permission to come aboard?”
Dirce did not have to refer to her subordinates standing behind her on the bridge; she could feel their approval. “Permission granted.” To Commander Nigar she remarked, “Your reconnaissance may be unnecessary. This is the kind of break we can use.”

Because of its size, Cain’s shuttle was ordered to land aboard the Columbia. As a security precaution, the ship’s beta hangar had been sealed off by her marines, who were heavily in presence. As he stepped off the shuttle and saw the combat armor and leveled weapons, Cain did not display surprise. Instead, he held his arms up so a waiting marine could check him for weapons; wisely, Cain had left his sidearm elsewhere. The marine stepped back and said to the waiting Dirce and Aeneas, “He’s clean, sirs.”
“Where’s the other one?” Dirce asked shortly.
“Aboard the shuttle,” Cain said. He hesitated, then said, “She’s...unconscious.”
“How did that happen?” Aeneas wanted to know.
“Unfortunately it was the only way I could get her off the planet. That...that thing....” For once Cain’s colorful vocabulary failed him. “She’s under his control.”
Aeneas turned to a security man and said, “Have the woman taken to Life Station and confined in the Security area. She is to be guarded continuously, highest security.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Dirce said, “And now that that’s taken care of, Commander, I would suggest that you join us aboard my flagship. We are expecting a very...interesting briefing.”

“I don’t know,” Cain mused, “how I could have been so blind.”
Dirce refrained, with difficulty, from making any obvious rejoinders and said, “That’s not important now. We’ll all have plenty of time for reflection once this is over.” I hope. “For now, what we need to know is the composition of your fleet, and the intentions of Count Iblis.”
Cain shook his head. “Iblis...I don’t know what he wants. No one does, I think. He keeps it to himself. All along he claimed to be doing it out of kindness, since we’d rescued him...if only I’d seen how wrong things were going....”
More gently than anyone might have expected, Starbuck said, “Sir, maybe he made sure you couldn’t see that.”
“That’s no excuse, Commander,” Cain replied. “I should never have let myself slip into his influence.”
“How did he do it?” Miriam asked.
“I don’t know. Everything seemed...fine. And then, a few sectons ago, after that last party...suddenly I realized....”
Miriam and Apollo swapped looks. Clearly, the mind-static device Cassiopiea had given Cain had worked perfectly. Apollo leaned forward and asked, “Sir, do you have any evidence that suggests where Count Iblis might have come from?”
Cain shook his head. “No. If there is any, it would be on the planet where we found him, but even there....”
Dirce broke in, raising a hand to forestall Cain’s next remark. “Do we know where that is?” When Aeneas nodded, she said, “Send your warp scout to check that out. Have them depart as soon as they can.”
“Yes, my lady.”
While Aeneas went to use the commdeck on the briefing room wall, Dirce told Cain, “Continue, Commander.”
Cain was smiling. “You don’t hesitate, do you, Commander?”
“The Cylons never gave one time to.”
“True. I’m not surprised we finally won the war, with people like you in command.” Cain’s glance took all of the commanders gathered around the table in. “You’re all fine warriors. Better than my generation, gods know. We were losing...and you won.”
“After the holocaust we had a pretty good incentive to,” Starbuck muttered. He could not help comparing Cain with Dirce. He’s all flash and style and the public loves him. You can feel his charisma from here. Dirce...she keeps to herself and the public thinks she’s strange, but by God she wins. She always wins. I have this thing about success....
Cain went on, “As to our fleet...I know what they told me. In retrospect, it may not be accurate.”
“I’m still interested in how Iblis got you under his influence,” Miriam said, not to be deterred.
Cain clearly was reluctant. Finally, he said, “We all have weaknesses.”
Apollo looked up the table at Dirce. Or so he thinks. I’m not so sure Dirce does. I’ve never seen any if she has them.
Miriam appeared to be prepared to agree with him. “Possibly,” she said dryly.
“Tell us what you know about the fleet for certain,” Dirce said.
Cain told them. The Pegasus. A Cylon baseship they’d found in orbit. It had been refitting at the time the Cylons had left; presumably the Cylons had meant to retrieve it but never had. It had been brought up to operational standards and Cain suspected it had been refitted with different weapons systems. There were four new heavy cruisers based on Cylon design, one of which had been building at the time the Cylons had left; there had been more than sufficient parts on hand to complete that ship and her three sisters. Cain sketched out their armament specs for them. They were not nearly as heavily armed as the battlecruisers, but were armed well enough to be dangerous opponents and in addition were fast and maneuverable. The enemy also possessed nearly thirty smaller ships, destroyers, frigates and corvettes, again based on Cylon models, all very heavily automated with small crews and many robots. A factory on Gamoray was turning out uprated vipers. Judging by Cain’s description these were nearly the equivalent of the latest Colonial mark of viper, and between the Pegasus and the baseship the Gamoreans could field a total of four hundred and fifty vipers, in addition to which the cruisers carried a squadron apiece, or eighty more, plus there were no fewer than six ground-based squadrons.
“Six hundred and thirty. That,” Apollo commented, rather inadequately, “is very bad.” Between them, the Colonial ships could field less than half that number.
“Wait a centon,” Starbuck said, realizing Cain had finished. “What about those other ships?”
Cain looked a little blank. “What other ships?”
“The missile ships,” Aeneas clarified.
“What missile ships?”
Dirce called up a holographic reproduction of the ships photographed by Galactica’s scout. Cain rose and moved down the table to have a closer look. Finally, he said, “I don’t recognize them. I’ve never seen those ships before in my life. What can he need them for?”
“To attack the Colonies,” Miriam said hotly. “That’s what he needs them for.”
“I promise you, I had no idea....”
“Weaknesses,” Miriam snapped. “Yes, we know. While Iblis was distracting you with whatever the hell you distract with, he was building weapons of mass destruction...and Cylons!”
It was rather unpleasant to see a legend so humbled, and the warriors around the table averted their eyes, except for Dirce. She continued looking at Cain, tapping her fingers slowly on the table before her. Miriam would have given a lot to know what her sister was thinking. It was just possible, she supposed, that she was thinking something along the lines of, there but for the grace of the gods go I. But she didn’t think so.

“How,” Ares wondered, “do we get picked for these missions?”
“Ares, I have explained this before. It is fate,” Rhiannon said simply as Flashbolt made her way through an unremarkable star system on her way to the planet where Count Iblis had been found.
“They certainly can’t be punishing us for anything,” Leah said.
“Exactly. We’re too good for our own good,” said Rhiannon.
“Um, can we do something about that?” Ares asked.

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