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There is a lull in
the firing. The Colonial search party takes stock.
"Maybe the Pirates decided to go home," Boomer
deadpans.
"Hardly," the Captain says skeptically, "Probably,
they are setting up their next move."
"You know," Starbuck says as he looks out, "We
missed supper, I'm beginning to feel a little bit hungry."
"I told you to eat your greens and veggies," Boomer
teases.
"All that healthy food can get you," Starbuck answers
knowingly.
"Be patient," Captain Apollo puts in, "There's
plenty of food back on the Galactica."
"The Galactica? A battlestar?" the Sabbatical asks
with passing interest.
The Captain winces, he wonders if there certain information the
Young Lady best not know.
The Sabbatical digs into her pack and pulls out a paper-wrapped
bar. She tosses it to the Captain.
"Divide it four ways," she directs the Captain,
"It isn't much, but there should be enough nutrition and energy to see
us through."
The Captain, though not really in a mood to be taking orders,
nonetheless splits the bar into four pieces and tosses the pieces around.
Boomer takes a bite, "What's in this?" he asks,
"Tastes like honey on the outside, and is bitter on the inside."
"Field-bars," Starbuck says as he tastes his,
"They'll get you through, but no telling what's in them, it's usually a
proprietary recipe."
"I garuntee you, all ingredients are wholesome and entirely
edible," the young Sabbatical assures the Warriors, "At least, from
what I eat."
Boomer and Apollo look accross at each other, less than fully
reassured.
The Captain says nothing, but passes a flask-canteen.
Starbuck nearly spews out his gulp, "Water?"
Boomer asks the Sabbatical, "Any dessert coming?"
"Sorry,"she apologizes, "But that was the last of
my provisions."
"Never mind," the Captain interrupts, "Action's
picking up."
They all look out at the Pirate area. And in the light cast from
the bluish flame, a few figures can bee seen zig-zagging they way toward the
Colonials.
The Warriors grip their laser-pistols.
The Mercanaries are certainly reduced, but are coming anyways.
Starbuck tilts his head, "What's that?" he asks.
Then the Young Woman and the others hear a gentle thobbing of a
motorized unit in the backround.
"This can't be good," the Young Woman says to herself,
and snaps out her symphony-glasses.
"I'll have to look," Apollo says calmly. The Young
Lady hands him the veiwer and the Captain holds the handles to bring the
glasses up to his eyes.
The young Sabbgatical reaches over to adjust the handle.
"That's better, thanks," the Captain says, "As I
see it, a utility vehicle is approaching, it looks like with some type of
firing mechanism attached to it."
Just then, there is a distant thump, and then in a few microns,
a large explosion in front of the Colonials.
"A ranging-shot," Boomer observes.
"Pretty fair-sized charge," Starbuck adds.
"If they get that into range, there will be no way we can
keep them out," the Captain replies grimly.
Already, the Young Lady is propped against a box, going over her
bolt-laser, looking at it up and down, and levelingit to get the balance, and
practice sighting it.
"What are you doing?" Boomer inquires.
"A most primitive weapon, but accurate to long
ranges," the Sabbatical comments smoothly.
"And?" Boomer asks.
She motions for, and the Captain hands her back her
symphony-glasses. She sights one last time on a distant point, before laying
them aside.
"Have you ever heard of synchronized aiming?" The
Sabbatical asks, "Leiutenat Starbuck certainly you have."
Starbuck nods affirmatively.
Captain Apollo mentions to Boomer, "The idea behind it,
we've heard of."
"Good," the Sabbatical answers, "Now what's the
effective range on your laser-pistols, you can rely on them not
deflecting."
"About two-hundred cubits," Starbuck answers,
steadying his laser-pistol atop a barrier.
"Two-hundred cubits, how quaint," the Sabbatical says to
herself, she quickly she makes the conversion and uses the glasses to
pick out a new point.
The Warriors watch as she carefully takes aim and then tunes her
senses to the approaching heavy mover.
There is another large explosion.
And that is when Boomer notices a tremor in the Sabbatical's
aim.
"Say there," Boomer asks gently, "You didn't get
winged by any laser-rifle shots along the way?"
"No," the Young Lady shakes her head, "A couple
came close, but no fumarillo."
Captain Apollo now picks up on whar Boomer has spotted, "Um
Miss," The Captain says calmly, but firmly, "I think you had better
let Leiutenat Starbuck have the laser."
The youhng Sabbatical shakes her head, "No, I'm all right,
really?"
She is noticing the tell-tale twitch in her aim.
"The Leiutenat is qualified," the Captain reassures
her.
Reluctanly the Sabbatical hands the bolt-laser over to Leiutenat
Starbuck.
The Leiutenat accepts the bolt-laser and perches it atop the
barrier. Starbuck takes only a brief look through the Sabbatical's
Symphony-glass tool before beginning to concentrate on the coming target.
The Young Lady goes to offer origin-point veiws to the other
Colonials, but they are already aming their lasers, tryin to synchronise with
Starbuck's aim.
The Sabbatical is feeling weary about now and leans back against
the barrier.
It occurs to her that she would feel much better if she was
carrying a laser of her own. But to ask the Leiutenat Starbuck to borrow his
just at the moment that he needed complete concentration would be foolhardy
at best.
And there was also the issue the custom-fitting and baalance of
the pistol of ace laser-slingers. It would be considered bad form to attempt
to beg such a personalized item, even at this juncture. At least the
Sabbatical thought she would certainly mind.
The weariness increases, but the Young Woman pulls herself back
up and looks around her.
With all the Colonials all so intent on their aiming, perhaps a
lookout was most valuble at this moment anyways.
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