First Contact 39:
Starbuck frowned; it had been a very odd day. The last thing she could remember was chasing a Cylon Heavy Raider into a storm on the gas giant the fleet was mining, then everything went white. Next thing she knew, she was flying high over some mountains, her Viper almost out of fuel. Landing had been rough; it was doubtful her fighter would ever fly again without seeing the inside of a well stocked maintenance bay, but the planet she was one seemed habitable.
Heading for higher ground to try and pick up any sign of the fleet on her transponder, she'd run straight into a large Cylon patrol led by one of the blond-bimbos Baltar had been fraking back on New Caprica. They seemed to want her alive, as they'd started to chase her rather than just shooting, but Starbuck had no intention of going back to Leoben's little dolls house: she'd rather eat a bullet.
Heading back the way she'd came, she and slipped down the side of a hill and landed at the feet of two very startled looking people. The man she was now following had pulled an ancient looking revolver and moved to shield the woman he was with. The cut of his cloths and the silver star on his chest made him out to be some kind of solider or police officer, high-ranking if the braiding on his shoulder was any indication. His companion was a much younger looking woman, probably in her mid to late twenties, dressed in a rather conservative but well made black dress, hardly appropriate for travailing through mountains countryside.
"I don't want any trouble." Starbuck had kept low, her eyes never leaving the gun pointed at her head, "But trouble's exactly ten seconds behind me!"
As if to prove the point, the rhythmic thud of Centurions moving at high speed could be head coming around the nearest bend in the track, and the Cylons soon came into view, weapons at the ready.
"I will handle this." The strange woman said with a rather odd smile, "You'd best take our guest here back to the palace; I fear we may have more slippers on our hands."
"Whatever you say, Princess." The man nodded with a heavy dose of sarcasm, gesturing Starbuck to move the other way with his gun, "You heard her; move it."
Knowing that it was never a good idea to argue with a man pointing a gun at your head, Starbuck did as she was instructed as the mysterious woman moved to head off Th Cylons with an odd smile on her face.
"Shouldn't we, I don't know, help her?" Starbuck asked as she made her way along the track and up a low rise, "There had to be at least fifty Centurions back there..."
"Forty-two, by my count." The man took off his wide-brimmed hat with his free hand and fanned himself with it, "Azkadellia has been working out some, issues, recently, and every now and then she needs something to vent her anger and hostility on. I think those clockwork toys back there should suffice."
"So you're just going to let her face them alone?" Starbuck asked, turning round and walking backwards, "Just who are you, anyway? And where am I?"
"The names Cain, Wyatt Cain, Commander of the Royal Guard. And you're in the Outer Zone, although most folks call it the O.Z. these days." The man looked at her suspiciously, "Let me guess; you're not from around here. Tornado?"
"No," Starbuck shook her head, "but it was a big storm."
"Wild Travel Storm; we get them from time to time." Cain nodded with a frown, "Don't worry; D.G. and Glitch will find a way to get you and the others home."
"That's assuming the Cylon's don't..." Starbuck started to complain, but there was a aloud explosion from back the way they came, and the sound of something flying through the air. It crashed through the trees and landed just in front of them. Starbuck knelt down for a closer look, and was surprised to see that it was the charred remains of a Centurions head. "Well frak me sideways!"
"Like I said, Azkadellia has issues." Cain couldn't help but smirk, "Gods knows she's getting better, but she still has more issues then the Central City Tribune."
"This is normal for her?" Starbuck asked, eyes wide in shock as more explosions and the sporadic sound of gunfire echoed through the forest.
"No, you caught her on a good day." Cain shrugged as he holstered his gun and continued down the path, "But what do you expect; she spent fifteen annuals possessed by the spirit of an evil witch. That kind of experience is bound to leave a scare or two."
(Battlestar Galactica/Tin Man)