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Fic of doom Chapter Two
See previous for info
Chapter Two: Which is mainly Cylons
Punchline didn't know if she liked her name, but it did make her feel different. She wasn't Sharon Valerii, Boomer or Athena. She wasn't just an Eight now. She was her own person.
It wasn't as though the Cylon pilots weren't already slightly diffrerent from their sisters. Harder, more willing to put themselves in death's grasp. They saw more of the world, flying through the air than their base star-bound sisters did. That was Punchline's opinion, anyway. There was no music or art or great forests in the things her fellow pilots projected, after all.
Just space or explosions, or the infrequent seas of planets they've never been to.
Right now, Punchline was looking at the unadorned hangar bay. And a Six, her platinum hair catching the light, was inspecting a raider. Punchline thought she recognized her. "Hey."
"The frak do you want, Eight?"
"It's Punchline. Are you Outlaw? Because Natalie sent me down, said we need to start planning recon missions, try to find ourselves some help."
Straightening, the Six made a face, then nodded, "Yeah, I'm Outlaw. Natalie mentioned we might need to do that. Does she think there are more base stars on our side?"
Punchline frowned, "That's the thing. I think she wants us to find humans. Something to do with that squirrely Two, LEoben?"
The scowl on Outlaw's lips deepened, "Frak. Him. You know he kept a human woman for months on New Caprica? All locked up like some toy. He's creepy."
"Very frakkin' creepy," Punchline agreed with a shudder.
"Humans, huh?" Outlaw snorted, "Humans would just as soon shoot us down or make sure we get ripped apart in the gas giant's atmosphere."
"There is a prophecy." It was the Two, and Punchline wondered how long he'd been listening. Not that she gave a crap what he thought of her, but again, he was creepy. He smiled a little as he looked at the two of them. "We need to find Kara Thrace, and she will show us the way. She's an angel, you know."
"You sure she ain't offed herself?" Outlaw looked unimpressed.
"God provides."
Punchline was never really sure what she thought of God. He was sort of nice, and something she could believe in when she was out in the black. But the idea that he guided things and made prophecies come to life was sort of ridiculous to her. After all, his wonderful Plan for Humanity hadn't really gone that well. She shook her head, "Frak God. We need to get raiders and pilots out there, looking for help. There have to be other base stars that survived the fight. We can't be the only ones, Outlaw."
"Maybe." She shrugged, "I'll get the rest of them down here, I think Natalie had some of them on structural integrity checks. We can put centurions on those."
"I'll talk to the centurions," Leoben offered quickly. He smiled at their surprised looks, "I understand them. I think they like me."
Outlaw rolled her eyes. "They would."
"I'm going to check on the raiders," Punchline offered, "You get the rest of the pilots down here, then we can work out a schedule."
"Yeah." Outlaw was silent for a moment, before she asked, "Should we name the rest?"
Namimg was such a human convention, but Punchline had to admit she liked it. "We can put it to a vote."
Outlaw groaned, "We'll be here for a month."
"Only if the Sixes don't get their brains together," Punchline shot back. She might be an Eight, but no Six was going to make her feel inferior.
A slight grin crossed Outlaw's lips. "If it's the Eights, I get to name them all."
"You're on."
-=-
"Why are we looking for the humans?" The Eight was scowling across the console at Leoben and Natalie.
This wasn't the first time she'd objected, and Natalie didn't think it would be the last. She resisted the urge to rub her fingers over her temples, massaging away the headache that had started sometime that morning and wouldn't frakking stop. The idea of Cylons turning into individuals had seemed like such a good one, now she wasn't so sure. It produced bitchy pilots, argumentative Eights and creepy Twos.
"Because the hybrid said to," Leoben said, almost business-like. He must be getting tired of trying to explain it in more flowery language.
"Eight--" Natalie stopped and frowned, "You need a name."
"A name?" The idea seemed to rattle the Eight, and her eyes went very wide with uncertainty. Completely thrown off her rant and anger, she looked down, then back up. "I don't know."
"We all need names. It's a practical solution to shouting 'Eight' and having every Eight answer 'yes'," Natalie informed her. She leaned forward, pushing. "Haven't you ever wanted to feel like your own self? To know that you and only you are you?"
It was a convoluted sentence, but every Cylon had faced it before.
The Eight slowly nodded, "Yes. Yes, I have."
"Good. Pick a name for yourself."
Leoben shifted, but said nothing, eyes going between the two of them. Natalie had long since given up on the Twos bothering with names (at least for now--as more of them changed, as more of them evolved, she was expecting them to reconsider), but he did understand the need for it. He'd been the one to first tentatively suggest the idea to her, when she was simply a Six who didn't feel like platinum blonde hair.
"I--Prudence." A look of shock passed over the Eight's face, and she straightened. "I never wanted to be a Sharon."
"Prudence." Saying the name made them both smile. Natalie continued on, "Now that's established, we can continue this debate. Unless you want to go insist your sisters get names."
"No. Not just yet." Eyes narrowing, Prudence leaned forward, her hand on the side of the console. "Humanity hates us for what we did to them, Natalie. You cannot simply expect them to welcome us with open arms and give us succor after we destroyed them."
"You're right. I can't. But I can expect them to be practical. Together, we can all destroy Cavil and the others. Separately, he'll simply continue to pick us off until there's nothing left."
Prudence frowned, then slowly nodded. "All right. I can buy that. How do we trust them, though? New Caprica--"
"Was a mistake," Leoben interrupted her. He seemed to have caught the fire of an idea. "New Caprica should have showed us that our differences were what made us strong, and it didn't. Instead, we fell back on the idea that differences made us enemies."
"But they do."
"Yes, and they don't." Natalie had to smile, "It's annoying, isn't it?"
Prudence sighed. "All right. If the humans do manage to show up, I won't kill them on sight. Happy?"
"Very." Natalie smiled at her, then put her hand in the data stream to check on the repairs. It might take them too long to fix, but the drive would be workable again. She just had to hope that their God wouldn't desert them.
-=-
missing scene goes here.
-=-
Punchline had left Outlaw to call the pilots into the ready room while she checked over the heavy raiders. It was a little depressing to see that they were down from thirty to twenty, and she wondered about her siblings that had been lost before the jump to safety. Two of the remaining raiders had damage, and she made a note to keep them back from the search.
Still, that left her with eighteen to deploy, and she considered her options as she walked down the hall to the pilots' ready room.
Outlaw was pacing by the podium when Punchline entered, and she shot her fellow 'captain' a look before turning to inspect the pilots who had arrived. They looked eager and fresh, ready to face anything, and she wondered for a moment it this was how they always looked, or if it was just now that she was noticing it.
"Some of you know how bad things are," Punchline started, breaking the silence. "If we can't get the base star fixed, the atmosphere will tear it to pieces over time. But we can't exactly go searching for the nearest Cylon ship, since Cavil's forces have probably been successful at quelling any rebellion on other ships."
"Outside of the other four that were with us, and I fear that they are destroyed." Looking at them, Outlaw half-smiled. "We are beyond resurrection range. If we die, that's it for us."
"We go to God's hands." A Six said, smiling a little, almost surprised.
"Yes."
"So, Natalie has a plan. We're going to run long recons, search for anyone who can help us. Four of you will be searching around the orbit of the gas giant, and ten of you will take directions to jump for. Everyone keeps in contact with an hourly update on your location. If Cavil or his forces show up, don't wait to be shot at--but make sure they're the enemy before you jump away."
"How are we going to tell that?" demanded a Two, looking surlier than Twos tended to run.
Rolling her eyes, Punchline ignored him. "Try not to lead them back here, this ship is in no shape for another fight."
Punchline stopped talking, and watched them all take their orders in with a calm she didn't really feel. They might die out there. She would send them out, and they might die. With resurrection too far away, it would be permanent. She bit her lip and glanced at Outlaw.
"There's one other thing." The blonde Six smiled at them, "Before you leave, each and every one of you gets to pick a call sign. If you can't pick one, Punchline or I will assign you one. Get used to them. We're not replaceable anymore, pilots."
And that was the difference, Punchline realized. With mortality came something new, something that made them different. Individuality. She nodded, "I'll assign you to your raiders once we're done. Those of you who aren't going out, I want you to rest until you're up on rotation. And remember that we could be found at any moment. You will become our only retreat and line of defense. The regular raiders are mostly in pieces, though the centurions are working on fixing some of them."
"This is so new." One of the Eights stepped forward, looking frightened. "So different. We could die out there."
"We know," Punchline moved and took her shoulder, holding it for a moment, and smiling, "Moonbeam. You could die out there. We all could die. But we're not going to. I know you. You're pilots, and you're good at it. So don't be stupid, and don't get dead."
"Good hunting, I think is what she's trying to say," Outlaw said, her tone amused.
"Yeah, that."
-=-
chapter three
Chapter Two: Which is mainly Cylons
Punchline didn't know if she liked her name, but it did make her feel different. She wasn't Sharon Valerii, Boomer or Athena. She wasn't just an Eight now. She was her own person.
It wasn't as though the Cylon pilots weren't already slightly diffrerent from their sisters. Harder, more willing to put themselves in death's grasp. They saw more of the world, flying through the air than their base star-bound sisters did. That was Punchline's opinion, anyway. There was no music or art or great forests in the things her fellow pilots projected, after all.
Just space or explosions, or the infrequent seas of planets they've never been to.
Right now, Punchline was looking at the unadorned hangar bay. And a Six, her platinum hair catching the light, was inspecting a raider. Punchline thought she recognized her. "Hey."
"The frak do you want, Eight?"
"It's Punchline. Are you Outlaw? Because Natalie sent me down, said we need to start planning recon missions, try to find ourselves some help."
Straightening, the Six made a face, then nodded, "Yeah, I'm Outlaw. Natalie mentioned we might need to do that. Does she think there are more base stars on our side?"
Punchline frowned, "That's the thing. I think she wants us to find humans. Something to do with that squirrely Two, LEoben?"
The scowl on Outlaw's lips deepened, "Frak. Him. You know he kept a human woman for months on New Caprica? All locked up like some toy. He's creepy."
"Very frakkin' creepy," Punchline agreed with a shudder.
"Humans, huh?" Outlaw snorted, "Humans would just as soon shoot us down or make sure we get ripped apart in the gas giant's atmosphere."
"There is a prophecy." It was the Two, and Punchline wondered how long he'd been listening. Not that she gave a crap what he thought of her, but again, he was creepy. He smiled a little as he looked at the two of them. "We need to find Kara Thrace, and she will show us the way. She's an angel, you know."
"You sure she ain't offed herself?" Outlaw looked unimpressed.
"God provides."
Punchline was never really sure what she thought of God. He was sort of nice, and something she could believe in when she was out in the black. But the idea that he guided things and made prophecies come to life was sort of ridiculous to her. After all, his wonderful Plan for Humanity hadn't really gone that well. She shook her head, "Frak God. We need to get raiders and pilots out there, looking for help. There have to be other base stars that survived the fight. We can't be the only ones, Outlaw."
"Maybe." She shrugged, "I'll get the rest of them down here, I think Natalie had some of them on structural integrity checks. We can put centurions on those."
"I'll talk to the centurions," Leoben offered quickly. He smiled at their surprised looks, "I understand them. I think they like me."
Outlaw rolled her eyes. "They would."
"I'm going to check on the raiders," Punchline offered, "You get the rest of the pilots down here, then we can work out a schedule."
"Yeah." Outlaw was silent for a moment, before she asked, "Should we name the rest?"
Namimg was such a human convention, but Punchline had to admit she liked it. "We can put it to a vote."
Outlaw groaned, "We'll be here for a month."
"Only if the Sixes don't get their brains together," Punchline shot back. She might be an Eight, but no Six was going to make her feel inferior.
A slight grin crossed Outlaw's lips. "If it's the Eights, I get to name them all."
"You're on."
-=-
"Why are we looking for the humans?" The Eight was scowling across the console at Leoben and Natalie.
This wasn't the first time she'd objected, and Natalie didn't think it would be the last. She resisted the urge to rub her fingers over her temples, massaging away the headache that had started sometime that morning and wouldn't frakking stop. The idea of Cylons turning into individuals had seemed like such a good one, now she wasn't so sure. It produced bitchy pilots, argumentative Eights and creepy Twos.
"Because the hybrid said to," Leoben said, almost business-like. He must be getting tired of trying to explain it in more flowery language.
"Eight--" Natalie stopped and frowned, "You need a name."
"A name?" The idea seemed to rattle the Eight, and her eyes went very wide with uncertainty. Completely thrown off her rant and anger, she looked down, then back up. "I don't know."
"We all need names. It's a practical solution to shouting 'Eight' and having every Eight answer 'yes'," Natalie informed her. She leaned forward, pushing. "Haven't you ever wanted to feel like your own self? To know that you and only you are you?"
It was a convoluted sentence, but every Cylon had faced it before.
The Eight slowly nodded, "Yes. Yes, I have."
"Good. Pick a name for yourself."
Leoben shifted, but said nothing, eyes going between the two of them. Natalie had long since given up on the Twos bothering with names (at least for now--as more of them changed, as more of them evolved, she was expecting them to reconsider), but he did understand the need for it. He'd been the one to first tentatively suggest the idea to her, when she was simply a Six who didn't feel like platinum blonde hair.
"I--Prudence." A look of shock passed over the Eight's face, and she straightened. "I never wanted to be a Sharon."
"Prudence." Saying the name made them both smile. Natalie continued on, "Now that's established, we can continue this debate. Unless you want to go insist your sisters get names."
"No. Not just yet." Eyes narrowing, Prudence leaned forward, her hand on the side of the console. "Humanity hates us for what we did to them, Natalie. You cannot simply expect them to welcome us with open arms and give us succor after we destroyed them."
"You're right. I can't. But I can expect them to be practical. Together, we can all destroy Cavil and the others. Separately, he'll simply continue to pick us off until there's nothing left."
Prudence frowned, then slowly nodded. "All right. I can buy that. How do we trust them, though? New Caprica--"
"Was a mistake," Leoben interrupted her. He seemed to have caught the fire of an idea. "New Caprica should have showed us that our differences were what made us strong, and it didn't. Instead, we fell back on the idea that differences made us enemies."
"But they do."
"Yes, and they don't." Natalie had to smile, "It's annoying, isn't it?"
Prudence sighed. "All right. If the humans do manage to show up, I won't kill them on sight. Happy?"
"Very." Natalie smiled at her, then put her hand in the data stream to check on the repairs. It might take them too long to fix, but the drive would be workable again. She just had to hope that their God wouldn't desert them.
-=-
missing scene goes here.
-=-
Punchline had left Outlaw to call the pilots into the ready room while she checked over the heavy raiders. It was a little depressing to see that they were down from thirty to twenty, and she wondered about her siblings that had been lost before the jump to safety. Two of the remaining raiders had damage, and she made a note to keep them back from the search.
Still, that left her with eighteen to deploy, and she considered her options as she walked down the hall to the pilots' ready room.
Outlaw was pacing by the podium when Punchline entered, and she shot her fellow 'captain' a look before turning to inspect the pilots who had arrived. They looked eager and fresh, ready to face anything, and she wondered for a moment it this was how they always looked, or if it was just now that she was noticing it.
"Some of you know how bad things are," Punchline started, breaking the silence. "If we can't get the base star fixed, the atmosphere will tear it to pieces over time. But we can't exactly go searching for the nearest Cylon ship, since Cavil's forces have probably been successful at quelling any rebellion on other ships."
"Outside of the other four that were with us, and I fear that they are destroyed." Looking at them, Outlaw half-smiled. "We are beyond resurrection range. If we die, that's it for us."
"We go to God's hands." A Six said, smiling a little, almost surprised.
"Yes."
"So, Natalie has a plan. We're going to run long recons, search for anyone who can help us. Four of you will be searching around the orbit of the gas giant, and ten of you will take directions to jump for. Everyone keeps in contact with an hourly update on your location. If Cavil or his forces show up, don't wait to be shot at--but make sure they're the enemy before you jump away."
"How are we going to tell that?" demanded a Two, looking surlier than Twos tended to run.
Rolling her eyes, Punchline ignored him. "Try not to lead them back here, this ship is in no shape for another fight."
Punchline stopped talking, and watched them all take their orders in with a calm she didn't really feel. They might die out there. She would send them out, and they might die. With resurrection too far away, it would be permanent. She bit her lip and glanced at Outlaw.
"There's one other thing." The blonde Six smiled at them, "Before you leave, each and every one of you gets to pick a call sign. If you can't pick one, Punchline or I will assign you one. Get used to them. We're not replaceable anymore, pilots."
And that was the difference, Punchline realized. With mortality came something new, something that made them different. Individuality. She nodded, "I'll assign you to your raiders once we're done. Those of you who aren't going out, I want you to rest until you're up on rotation. And remember that we could be found at any moment. You will become our only retreat and line of defense. The regular raiders are mostly in pieces, though the centurions are working on fixing some of them."
"This is so new." One of the Eights stepped forward, looking frightened. "So different. We could die out there."
"We know," Punchline moved and took her shoulder, holding it for a moment, and smiling, "Moonbeam. You could die out there. We all could die. But we're not going to. I know you. You're pilots, and you're good at it. So don't be stupid, and don't get dead."
"Good hunting, I think is what she's trying to say," Outlaw said, her tone amused.
"Yeah, that."
-=-
chapter three