AWD#366: Cylon Delivery Service
Log Title
Summary: Major Gray has made an unusual request of former Sergeant Cooper Knox and the allied Sixes: Capture them a Cylon Heavy Raider. Knox delivers, and more.
Date: 22/06/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Faithful Twelve
Elias Knox 
An isolated hangar on Picon.
It's an out of the way hangar, secured by Picon's Marine and Air forces.
AWD #366

The Heavy Raider arrives exactly on schedule. DRADIS tracks it all the way down with four Vipers following in various firing positions. It isn't the best piloting, but it's good enough to get it into atmo and going low at an approach to the base. It comes at it near the hangars, moving slow. When it finally passes overhead, it turns and descends to ground level, landing gear extended. The craft flies into the hangar and slowly touches down. There's a full two squads of Marines in there with heavy weapons, most of them waiting for something untoward to happen. For a minute, nothing happens except for the Heavy to shut down its engines. After that, the rear lamp lowers and a familiar face steps out, hands behind his head. He's wearing typical camouflage for Caprica, a mottled green/brown, and he's wearing an assault vest like any Marine. The weapons have already been lain on the ramp, including his grenade pouch and weapons magazines. he just strolls down the ramp like that, nodding slowly to each person present.

Elias spends the waiting period in the wings and out of the way, letting the Marines and the pilots do their jobs. It gives him a few minutes to lean against the hangar wall and smoke a cigarette. Possibly a last cigarette, if this doesn't go as planned. But once the Cylon craft has touched down and shut down, the Intel officer pushes off the wall and strolls over toward the ramp. He's wearing his side arm, but Elias doesn't bother putting a hand on it — if the Marines can't deal with something, his pistol isn't likely to make the difference. He stops a few paces back, watching the pilot come down the ramp, and studying the six very closely. It could very well be Knox, for all he knows, but the brand new body doesn't sport the distinctive scars and tattoos that they used to be able to rely on to identify him as an individual. Cautious acceptance is Elias' final decision, as he steps forward to meet the skinjob. "Good to see you, Sergeant."

Knox see's the approach of Elias and seems a touch surprised. Maybe he was not expecting a meeting in person, but he accepts it. Hitting the bottom of the ramp, he goes to attention and hits a smart salute. "Major Gray. I wasn't expecting to see you in person, sir. My apologies for being outside uniform regs, but a more formal uniform is in short supply." Assuming the salute is returned, he goes to parade rest, hands clasped behind his back. One of the Marines to the side can see where his hands are and gives a nod to Elias. He's clear. No weapons there. "Give my best to Colonel Petra. The download was accidentally well-timed. A renewed offensive on Aerilon was planned and has been averted. We've been sending out the un-exposed Sixes to the front to get killed, sir. They're returning well onto our side, Major. The offensive has been delayed indefinitely."

Elias flicks a salute in return — enough to satisfy protocol at least. "At ease, Sergeant." He takes a quick puff on his smoke, then exhales aside. "You just delivered us an intact Heavy Raider. I think we can overlook the uniform regs, just this once." Then he listens closely to the rest of Knox's information, and while he's clearly relieved, the young Major limits his reaction to an understanding nod. "I'll be sure to pass the word. Any sign of a … backlash?"

Knox shakes his head easily. "Not that I could discern, sir. We had one of the loyalists, the brainwashed types, give a tip we fed him that there was some action happening. Sixes would meet who arrived. One of the guys from the 55th put a round through the cargo bay and into the arriving Six. He's uploaded and the source is still intact. It was a bit sloppy but we think it will hold for the time being." He pauses. "I hope everything is alright with the fleet, sir. I request no details, just a vote of thumbs up or down."

While he's still listening to the Six, Elias' gaze wanders up the ramp to what he can see of the Raider's interior. "Mmm," he says for their counter-intel efforts. A bullet in the head and the enemy becomes an ally. If only all his problems could be solved that way. Then he considers, taking a second to smoke before he tosses his head towards the Cylon craft. "Mind showing me around inside, Sergeant?" It sounds like there may be more than idle curiosity involved in this request.

Knox doesn't even blanche at the lack of answer. He simply nods to the request and opens his arms to hang, one going out to gesture up. He moves up the ramp. Inside there are five jumpseats on each wall and 2x5 panels on the floor. "The jumpseats are made to accomodate the skinned types, sir. These floor locations have plugs to attach Centurions to give them a full charge and new orders, up to the minute, as they arrive on location." Another gesture, "You'll notice two seats up front. One is for the pilot, the other for the gunner who controls the missiles and turret system located on top. These chairs can be folded back easily to allow for Centions to pilot." He then aims a flat hand to each wall, fore of the jumpseats. "There are weapons lockers on each side, port and starboard." Another gesture aft. "The FTL drive is located beneath the main transport section, along with the fuel tanks. There are separate, redundant systems that drive each." He then gestures directly under their feet. "There is a single missile bay capable of holding three missiles. Primarily for any attack on the fleet or ships needing destroyed they are loaded with fifteen kiloton nuclear weapons. Otherwise they are loaded with shaped charge high explosive rounds."

"You can stand down," Elias says to the Marines in the hangar before following Knox up the ramp. He doesn't seem to have expected anything but quick agreement, and he takes the brief tour of the ship's interior with an interested and focused eye. "There are a lot of people who are going to want a look at this," he notes dryly. Then the Major considers and looks around, as if to verify that yes, no one else is aboard. And now that they're inside the ship alone, Elias finally gets back to Knox's question. "Yes the fleet is doing relatively well. But there's an upcoming operation that I'd like to hear your opinion on. Have you heard about our current guest?"

The rest of the Marines have seemed to stand down well enough, but they have their own curiosity. A few are looking up into the ship and talking amongst themselves. But inside, Knox and Elias seem to be alone in their conversation. "I'm sure they will, sir." It's an easy agreement. "But it will have to stay on Picon, Major. In order to jump it, the pilot needs to coordinates. Even if you asked me to, I won't accept hearing them. Too much risk, sir." The quiet Sergeant seems serious with it. There's something different about him, though. He's changed, taken on something, but the same quiet individual is still there. And the news of the fleet doing well garners a low smile and dip of his head. Real appreciation. But- "Current guest? No, sir. I've no knowledge of any guests or operations." A pause. "Be careful. As always." Because if he dies, he uploads.

Elias spares the curious Marines a pointed look, enough that it's clear the Major isn't inviting them inside the Raider. They can indulge their curiosity later. Then there's quick agreement for the craft staying away from Piraeus. "No. I wouldn't care to risk that either, Sergeant." There's a moment where the Intel officer simply studies the Six again in silence, then Elias takes a another drag on his cigarette before continuing. "We had a trio of Sixes at Anvil who said they were delivering a message from you. One of them came back aboard the Orion with me to meet our guest. My understanding was that this Six was planning to return to you. I assume he didn't make it?" Elias doesn't wait for an answer before explaining the salient point. "We have a Twelve."

Knox looks considerate for a moment, understanding that this is beyond normal ranks and positions. He slowly shakes his head. "No. But that only means that the Six may have been killed enroute to report and I haven't run into any of the new uploads yet. That happens. We have to maintain our cover." The words of having a Twelve gets a quirk of his brow. "Really." The guy looks like he might take a step back, but instead looks down and thinks on that. "That is an interesting development I was not expecting, sir. Did you capture him or did he approach the fleet?"

That carefully neutral noise of Elias' is in use again after he hears about the subterfuge the Sixes have to employ. "Mmm." No sense dwelling on that, especially given the unusual reaction from Knox for the news of the Twelve. "He came to us. In a rather round-about manner that conveniently covered his ass." And not so convenient for them, by the sound of it, though the Intel officer doesn't elaborate on that point. "He gave us the names of fifteen loyalist infiltrators in the fleet, in return for several requests of his own. One of those requests was to speak with you, but as you weren't available, I asked the other Six with your memories. The short version is that the Twelves seems to be trying to come to some sort of judgment about us. And they seem to suspect that One may be up to something on Libran … possibly something that they are not prepared to condone." The takes a puff. "We've been asked to go there, get past a blockade of satellites that jam Colonial technology, and try to find out what that may be." He gestures to the craft they're in. "Thus, our prize here. It gives us … options."

Knox doesn't look up. He keeps his focus on the floor while he listens. There is no change to his stance except for a hand to lift and rub to his chin. When it finishes? "That's a pretty audacious move, sir. But it doesn't strike me as outside their movements. If he gave you something, I'd consider it as a real act of good faith." The hand drops and he looks back. "If he really outted people that were actual problems, then he's committing treason. That means the line is committed enough to consideration that they may not be on the right side of this. If he's there and requesting things be done, and he's put down his cards, I would recommend working with him." The point of Libran gives him pause. "Yeah, Libran is a no-go zone for a lot of us. Part of the Sixes concerns is that he's hiding something big and it's on Libran. But we don't know what. The problem is that it doesn't just jam tech, that's a damned EMP screen, sir. We know it for a fact. Basically like a big Faraday cage. No skin gets off that planet, if they are killed, without close scrutiny."

"Yes…" Elias' response sounds like guarded agreement. "The Twelve did give us something significant, but he's refused to discuss anything that isn't related to his own goals." And then he makes a more certain noise for the treasonous implications. "Mmm. Which is why I want to make sure it's known. Just in case. And while I know he hasn't put all his cards on the table, he does seem to have been honest about what he has been willing to say." Yes, Knox's recommendation clearly carries weight, and yet the Major still seems less than certain about trusting the Twelve. The news about Libran's effect on downloads looks like welcome news, however. "I see. That would explain the Twelve's reluctance to go there himself. And hopefully that will makes any of the Lines that are there … reluctant to risk themselves as well. It sounds as if electronics will operate within the barrier? It's simply disabling devices that pass through, and preventing any transmissions in or out. Is that correct? And I assume this thing," he gestures to the ship they're in, "will be able to pass through?"

Knox once again rubs his chin, looking to Elias. "Well, that does make sense." But before saying more, he listens. In the end, he shakes his head. "They blanketed the planet with EMPs. Everything there is fried. The blanket over the planet may actually be projecting EMP's down, but I can't make promises. I don't think it would be, though. We've got some solid intel that the Ones have their own facilities there, so if a model they approve of dies on planet, they can come back. But it's selective. The One has his favorites and nobody knows who it is right now." Knox seems far more serious than he used to be. The quiet tone is still there, but he's obvious seen things. Things his model has done. "But yes, I'd bet the Twelves are not allowed. The factor of who they are makes it suspect. Major, sir, we've already turned the two major warfighter lines. Sixes and Nines. There is serious shit going down, sir. The holdouts are the Twelves. They are the spotters. If you've got a Twelve…" He looks squarely at Elias. "Sir." He let's it sit there. "Did you let him visit Piraeus?"

Very careful note is made for Knox's opinions on the satellite net around Libran, and then he gives a slow nod. "I see." It seems like relatively good news to the Intel officer, on balance. "The Twelve says they're not allowed, and that's why they want us to go. They have limited information on the planet, but without a definite target, it's a shot in the dark finding out what they want to know, let alone getting people back out again to tell about it." And then he gives the Six a very serious look, eyes half lidded, both for what is at stake, and the question of Piraeus. "We did. It was his second request. He was hooded for transport and spent a short time at an isolated spot on the surface in daylight. And yes, Sergeant. I'm aware of the implications, and we are doing the best we can. Piraeus did seem to have an effect on him, as well as meeting with the other Six, but … I don't think he's had enough experiences of his own to develop much as an individual. Not yet. But he has made some progress." Which may be enough. "He wants to return to his line and we I don't think we have anything to lose by allowing it, at this point." Elias' lips compress into a tight line, hinting at frustration. "But the intel I am operating on is paper thin. We don't have a clear idea of the relationships between the Lines, or the Lines and the Centurions, or even how they came to be. My best guess is all I have to go on." He takes a long drag on his smoke, ashing it onto the floor, and shakes his head. "What I wouldn't give for a cooperative model with intact memories, Mr. Knox."

"That tracks, Major. Libran is a no-go for most lines. We are told we can go there if we are allowed. No Six I'm aware of is allowed there. It makes sense for a Colonial recon op." Coop takes a few steps away, moving to a bulkhead to lean and he looks down while he considers things. "Yeah, so you've picked out what the planet does to us. Good. That was something I couldn't pass. if he's been there, then it's enough. Just a taste." A term Elias has heard before. "Good. Frakkin good. No, I think you're on track, sir. No matter what, he needs to go home and download. P does things to the lines, sir. It's why I spent so much time there." He looks back to Elias then and cuts a smile. "I've got my intact memories, sir. I know a lot, now. I'll give you identities. Faces. But I cannot tell you about Piraeus. If I did, you'd act on it. We can't allow it, sir. And I mean all of us, including you, even though you don't know it. This needs to play out, Major. I won't lie to you and play stupid, but I will respect it and say that Piraeus is important to humanity." He noticeably leaves out his own people. "I will tell you right now that my line believes it must be protected at all costs." A pause. "All."

"It makes a certain kind of sense," Elias agrees, though it doesn't sound like he appreciates being on the hook for a blind op into hostile territory. "After the Twelve requested a Piraeus visit, I discussed it with the other Six. He declined to give any details, but it was obviously significant. Care to be more specific than 'does something?'" This is asked before Knox clarifies what he will and will not discuss, leaving the Intel officer with a tight-lipped frown. "I see. I'll take you up on whatever Intel you're willing to provide, Sergeant. But I don't appreciate being kept in the dark about Piraeus."

Knox puts his hands on his hips while he looks back down. "Before I answer that, let me clarify my own position here, Major." Lifting his eyes, "I reconnected with the Sixes. I've seen what they've done. I had a real hard time dealing with it for the first few days. But they've also seen what humanity was willing to do for me and that trust. It's inspired individuality where there was none before. I'm more Six than I used to be, but I'm also more human. Seeing their lack of growth has made me more aware of just how human I've become." He takes a long breath. "It's been intense. But it's also made me more emphatic in my desire to protect humanity, even from itself." He pauses a moment while he looks Elias in the eye. "I suppose no command, sir. I've done nothing to earn such a position except my current rank, especially in the fleet. I know this does not engender trust. But if you had certain information then you would use it. I will tell you what I can, but I'm not going to bullshit you, sir. You already know I've withheld things." The words lack intensity, though. Despite where he's been, he is still the soft spoken Marine. "We're pretty sure there's a religious element at play, though. If there is, the Sixes agree they can't interfere with humanity's journey. The Sixes have their own path and I believe they want to follow humanity's lead." There's a twitch of a smile. "You seem like a science man, sir, so I wouldn't try and play a card like that to someone like you if it was just a card, sir."

Elias nods when Knox says he wants to explain, and then he is stone silent as he listens to the case made. There's little reaction beyond a tightening of his mouth, and the occasional narrowing of his eyes, and those are partly obscured by a thin haze of smoke. "I'm a skeptic, Sergeant. And I prefer to believe that our decisions have more bearing on the course of our lives than the will of the gods. Or god." He finishes his cigarette, taps it out, then flicks the butt down the ramp and off the vessel. "Otherwise? What's the point." He studies the Six for a few seconds before continuing. "I understand your position. Perhaps I'd even agree with it, if I knew what you do. But I don't. And that leaves me … somewhat less than pleased." An understatement. "And sorely tempted to tell the Admiral we should move everyone to Picon and forget we ever found Piraeus." The young Major slowly shakes his head. "But it's clear you and your line already made up your mind, and I'm not going to waste my time trying to convince you. So let's get on with what you are willing to tell me, shall we?"

"I'm a skeptic, too, sir. I'm an agnostic theist, always have been. But there's enough out there for the line to question it. I asked the same question, I didn't get an answer. Some of the debate has revolved around the Gods or a singular God letting this play out. But-" he waves his hand off from his hip. That's not important at the moment, it seems. Seeing the displeasure, Knox frowns as well. The remarks obviously bring some subtle pain to his expression. And it isn't the Picon remark, either. "Sir," he sighs. "Major-" The guy turns and there's a quick movement as he kicks one of the chairs, hard, breaking the metal frame. There's a huff of breath while he walks slowly away and then back, at the same slow pace. hand running through his short hair, it drops to his side and looks back. The frustration is mixed in there now. "Minds are not made up. That's just where they stand right now. The individuality afforded to the skinjobs creates debate and the desire to find the best way to accomplish the goal." A hand gestures out towards the ramp. "They don't want to download anymore, Major. They want to be their own people. This isn't some closed door session of parliament. It was. It is not anymore." Some people might yell, he still doesn't lift his voice above a volume meant only for Elias. "Piraeus can poison the lines in a way that benefits humanity, sir. Ceres was living proof. We have a connection to the planet. We don't know how, we don't know why. It should not exist. We just know the effect it has had. Ceres turned on her own line, without the same exposure prior to the war that I had, and the Nines that aren't changed are freaking out and afraid to tell One."

"If I find out we're all playthings of the gods," Elias says thoughtfully, "and they're just amusing themselves by allowing us free will, they may end up regretting that." Knox's agitation doesn't seem to bother the Intel officer much, but that sudden, metal-rending kick causes Elias to blink, and then go very, very still. For his part, the young Major slowly folds his arms across his chest as he listens. At first there's a visible effort for the man to stay cool and composed, but that bit about the Sixes not wanting to download anymore? That is enough to distract him from his immediate concerns. "Piraeus is the catalyst? You're certain it's more than simply spending time as an individual and not downloading?"

"If the Gods are real and letting us all write our own play during the performance, sir, I'm pretty sure they will regret it, yes." Knox huffs a bit and takes a moment to calm the stress from his soul. In the end there is a slow nod. "Yessir. Becoming an individual was a conscious decision I made during my time with the Marines. I wanted it. I had to fight myself and all the urges, but I did it. When I found Ceres on Orion, I knew what was about to happen. That's why I sent letters. But she was a sleeper. Captain Delacroix, Viper pilot, was never a danger. The Nine underneath it watched everything but never had any control. I left her sleeping. But when I set foot on Piraeus for the first time I knew what had to be done, sir. I woke her up and made her face it." Coop's smile twitches a little. "It's like taping open someone's eyeballs and forcing them to see something. It toppled her eventually. I watched her drop to her knees, crying, asking what we had done to humanity, begging for an answer as to why." He cups his hands in front of him before gently pressing them together, fingers aimed unthreateningly at Elias' chest. "Imagine for a moment that you were going about your business, set foot in Piraeus, and you could feel the man you were before the war start to drift back. Your joys and laughter. The hobbies. Your freedom to pursue your life. Everything you looked forward to with getting off work. Now consider that the Sixes have only ever known work, have no concept of 'after work', and then it starts to drift in." He simply tilts the hands towards Elias once. It seems to be that was his point. "Piraeus is that catalyst, Major. Every single Six and Nine will know it. The line members that have been exposed, they all want to fight for the spirit of it. Freedom is freedom, sir."

Again Elias is content to listen and observe, keeping a very watchful eye on the Six as he speaks. The story of Ceres weeping on her knees gives him a moment of consideration, and clearly there are questions about this even though the Intel officer holds them for now. But that remark about 'the man he was before the war?' That catches Elias off guard, and his thoughts on that score are bittersweet at best. That world is gone and those people are dead, and yet there's some small hope there still. "I see." Elias takes a breath and slowly lets it out, refocusing himself. There are more important things he needs to understand. "Captain Delacroix wanted to know why. Do you know why now?"

"Sort of. I know what the Ones told the Sixes and Nines." Knox glances to the Marines, looking them over for a second and almost smiling a little. A detail noticed, a memory fleeting. He blinks and looks back. "Our mission was to invade Colonial space after a crippling nuclear strike and install humanity as the puppets to serve the needs of the Cylon. They wanted revenge, sir. They want humanity to live like they and those they considered their ancestors. Do what they are told and not question it. If they wanted to erase the war and human history, they only need a generation. Would any kids born today know a world without the Cylon? What will they tell their grandchildren? …Probably whatever the Cylon tell them as children, themselves. Re-education is a reality. Maybe in time jack all of the human race." He takes a breath. "The problem is that the Sixes and Nines think One has ulterior motives. He's pissed, was before the war. Nobody knows why."

Other than a quick glance to the Marines, following Knox's gaze to see what he's looking at, There's only a patient attentiveness about Elias. He's clearly heard this sort of reasoning before, or something much like it. And then there's something in the way Knox says it that catches his ear. "They wanted revenge? Are you saying the Sixes and Nines didn't want revenge?" There's a curt nod for the re-education and control program, which they've seen in action. The present reality. "So far everyone seems to believe One has his own motives. But I need context. So let's start at the beginning, if you don't mind. When, where, and how were the lines were created? Were they made in numerical order?"

"Sir, when the lines were opened for the war and preparation, they were told to follow orders. That was hard-wired into the brain. Individuality would have been impossible. Freedom was an ungraspable concept in a closed system of one mind. Nobody was given a choice. Hate and propagation of such hate was encouraged. The fire became its own fuel. Most of the lines are toeing the line well enough. The three's we won't ever see, though. The whole line was scrubbed." Just an aside he gestures away before his hands go to his hips. "Yeah. One is basically a terrorist, sir. I think I'd rather take my chances with a vat of lye then try to turn his line by bringing One to Piraeus, Major." That low voice is pretty serious, too. "Sir I have no idea how the lines were created. Doctor Nadir would know more than I. As for when and where?" Knox blinks. "Uhhh.." He doesn't look too sure of himself. "To be pretty blunt, sir, I couldn't even hazard a guess as to how old or young the lines are. I could blurt a number out and it would be as accurate as any other random number. I would assume the lines were made in some sort of order, though. Otherwise why number them."

No Threes. That is duly noted with a thoughtful frown of Elias' lips. The rest of the answer to his first question is less cut and dry. "Understood, Sergeant. My question was less about justifications and more about why you said 'They' and not 'We.'" He is clearly less than enthusiastic with the idea of trying to bring a One anywhere, let alone Piraeus. His own experiences with that line may have been brief, but it was enough. The rest of Knox's tale causes the Intel officer's mouth to compress into a tight line, and then he exhales a long breath. "I see. So none of your people have those memories? Not even stories? 'Where do we come from' and 'Why are we here' are some of the most basic cultural touchstones … for humans at least." But he doesn't seem to expect a different answer, as Elias goes on with barely a pause. "Do you know why the Threes were scrubbed?"

"Ah, understood, sir. If I say 'we', its just some random incorrect reference. I've been building that group of fighters and had to refer to them as 'us' and 'we'. 'We', for me, will always be humanity and the Corps." Knox hands remain on his hips, watching the line on Elias' face. He figured that was coming. "And it is one of the most hotly debated topics, sir. In many ways we are the children of humanity. It's why the Sixes are choosing to look to humanity for the lead. They need guidance, Major. They're waking up and have a lot of questions. There are religious questions as well as the fundamental ones you're asking about. The Nines are having their own debates. We don't know about the other lines because if we asked them, it would give ourselves away. …But the Ones know. We're sure of that. That line holds all the keys to all the dark doors." He takes a few steps back and stretches, hands on his lower back, before coming back up straight. "Three? Broken or something. It was explained to me but I'm shit with that sort of stuff, sir. None of the Sixes are good with it. At the time it was just 'aim me at a target and tell me when'."

Elias quirks a brow at Knox's 'random incorrect reference' remark, but whatever his question was, it seems answered by the time the Six is finished. "Mmm." There are almost none of the answers he's seeking here, and even if the Ones know, there's almost no chance of getting answers from them. Elias' frown deepens a notch and he raise a hand to rub at his face. "I see," he says for the news of the Threes, sounding a little resigned. "What /can/ you tell me about the lines, then? Gender? Function? Appearance?" This last bit has him considering Knox carefully, and then glancing down the ramp towards the Marine escorts.

"I can tell you some pretty good info, sir. The Sixes have been all over the place and seen plenty, learned a lot." Knox follows the gaze to the Marines, then back to the Major. "Each line is based on a single trait or idea, the most powerful ones. The ones that when they work together as a team, it makes them highly functional in almost any circumstance." He lists them off. "One, Wisdom. Two, Faithful. Three is Unknown. Four, Adaptation. Five, Strength. Six, Honor. Seven, Boldness. Eight, Logic. Nine, Perseverance. Ten, Creativity. Eleven, Curiosity. Twelve, Justice." His hands go back to his hips. "Five and Ten are being protected heavily on Libran, sir. They are the right and left hands of One in whatever they are doing. We don't have their identities except that they are females. A couple Nine's know the Ten's identity but they are protecting a confidential source feeding them intelligence. Otherwise I can get you descriptions of the rest of your unknowns. That'll be all but three, Major. Like I said, sir, I'll tell you what I can. There's only two sides to this war and I've picked mine."

There's an inviting nod from Elias, prompting Knox to go ahead. And then his brow furrows as he listens to what the Six has to say, and then he quickly produces a pen and a small pad of paper to start jotting down that list of traits. He glances up, keenly focused on the details of who is on Libran, which again gets noted down. There's a pause after Knox's assurance, as Elias double checks that he got all that down, and then he gives the other man a pointed look. "I've never doubted your conviction, Sergeant." And then he considers the more practical aspects of identifying the skinjobs. "I am assuming you don't have photos of any of them?"

"Negative, sir." Knox shakes his head with it. "Nobody does, that I'm aware of. Major Jankovic has a trial run with the Sixes mixed in with his own to see how they work out. They're all kept isolated from each other in the group. Trust but verify, which is what I'm assuming with any meetings with me for right now. But I requested it in part because the Sixes can identify threats. The 55th doesn't go near enemy forces unless they don't have a choice. But I do have the faces in my head. I could work with a sketch artist if we have one on base. But I can tell you that unidentified model number? The female? That's an Eight."

"Mmm," Elias makes a sound of acknowledgement. No photos, but at least they have a number and trait to go with the photo of the 'unknown' model. "Understood." He doesn't need to make a note of that to remember it. And while the idea of a sketch artist is considered, though the Intel officer doesn't seem too keen on it. "No … and I haven't the slightest idea where we'd find one. I can try and locate one, but it may take some time." Glancing down at his pad of paper, Elias weighs the situation, then draws a deep breath and looks up to Knox once more. "Would you be willing to Project them to me? Their faces, as well as their voices and mannerisms, if you remember any."

"Yeah, that's my concern." About a sketch artist. "I wouldn't have the first clue where to look. It's a pretty specific skill." Knox waits, though, waiting to see what else the Major has to say. That suggestion does surprise him, though. "Uh, yes, I'd be willing to do that, sir. But I have orders from Colonel Petra to not ever do it again. The rest of the line is actually holding to those orders as well, for now. I have no problem doing it, but it will take a countermanding order from you. I can't be seen as treating orders loosely." He does hold his hand out as if to shake, though, waiting. But it isn't going to start without the order.

The Intel officer quirks a brow at Knox's condition and, after he thinks it over, gives a slow nod. "I wouldn't expect you to disobey orders, no." The young Major offers the Six a very faint and dry sort of smile. "For passing vital information to the Fleet Intelligence Officer, I hereby countermand the TACCO's previous order." Steeling himself for a second, Elias then extends his right hand, as if to shake. "I'll inform the Colonel and take full responsibility, Sergeant."

Knox dips his head. "Thank you for appreciating the situation, sir." He takes the hand and closes his eyes. "This is Two." No sooner have the words finished then it floods into Elias' mind, eyes open or not.

Elias is on Leonis and he knows it, in the body of a Six in full combat gear, standing to the side. They're in an office tower with the sound of a jackhammer barely audible on the street below. There's an unknown human male, late fifties, facing the doorway. "This is not the way to go about things! You can't simply force people to believe in something." The eyes swing back to the doorway and there's the Two. Dusky skin, about six feet or so, in a dark suit with an unbutton shirt and no tie. He's leaned a shoulder into the doorway and glances to the Six, then to the human. "Mister Armand," the Two says quietly, gesturing low with his hands. "You're correct. We're well aware of this. That's why we are showing them the right way. When they are returned, they've embraced what they need to understand. They're ready for the life we're preparing. This isn't about what humanity wants, it is simply what humanity needs." The Six can be felt to chuckle and look back to Armand, then back to the Two. Six, "The sooner we finish, the sooner people stop dying. It is only that simple." The Two gives a genial dip of his head. "Exactly. We no more want violence than the rest of humanity. Come now, Mister Armand, it's your turn to have your eyes opened." The Six then turns to take Mister Armand by the elbow and lead him from the room.

…The memory ends there. When Elias looks back to Knox, the Six isn't smiling. "Ready for Seven?"

Elias goes shock still as the memory is transferred, his pen and paper falling forgotten from his left hand. And then he is left blinking and momentarily confused as his perception shifts abruptly back to the present. Elias' face tightens for a moment, then he glances down at the items he's dropped and frowns to himself. A deep breath to steady himself, then he locks eyes with Knox and gives a nod. "Ready."

"Copy, sir."

The next one floods in just as clearly. The Six is sans battle gear but is in cammies and Elias knows he's on Scorpia. He's in some kind of earthen bunker and its early in the war. Sitting around a table with a dozen humans, the smell of cigarette smoke is thick in the air and there's a beer cask on the table. People are drinking out of cups and laughing, seeming to have a good time. There are ten different conversations going on and the Six is talking with a young Marine woman across the table, flirting. He knows he's going to kill her soon and there's some pang of regret because he does like her. 'Maybe we should wait.' crosses his mind. His glance strays across the table and there's a Seven, sitting there. He has his own drink in front of him but has been drinking slowly. He looks at the Six, glances to the girl, then back to him. He smirks and leans over to take the girl into a kiss suddenly. Everyone stops and then starts laughing. The girl pushes him away and swats at the Seven's shoulder. There's jealousy felt in the Six and the shake of his head. The Seven just looks back at him and lets his gaze fall away before looking to someone across the table and reaching out to bump a fist. There's a grin from the Seven before reaching for his drink.

And then Elias is back. Knox let's go of the hand. "That Six was pretty pissed off. He ended up not killing her. They killed the rest of the cell but told her to run the night before the Seven and Six shot them in their sleep."

Momentarily transported into someone else's head for the second time, Elias struggles against his natural urge to act, especially given the impulses within the Six's memories this time. The emotions are all there to read on the Intel officer's normally impassive face — attraction, then jealousy, then anger. His hand grips on to Knox's hard, and he only notices and relaxes a few seconds after the vision fades. "What was her name?" he asks after Knox finishes the epilogue. The question is reflexive, as if he should know and can't figure out why he does not. But then Elias catches himself and swiftly shakes his head. She's no one he's ever met, or is likely to meet. "Never mind. Eight?"

"Last the Six knew, she's still alive on Scorpia, sir. But that last report was three months ago." And no, he doesn't give a name. The guy leaves it there. "Alright, Eight."

Caprica City. The Six is talking to her. They're in some kind of basement- no, a parking garage. The Six speaks, "You don't get to decide Judgment, Eight. That belongs to Twelve. We have our orders and we execute them. If you have a better way of doing things than why don't you pick up a rifle and get your hands dirty for once." There's frustration in the Six, knowing the Eight he's talking to will rise to the bait. Meanwhile she just holds her short smile, staring at him. The voice echoes while she stares at him. Her brows tick up a notch suddenly before she steps forward. "I don't need a rifle. I have millions. I have the ear of One when it comes to the matters of who you kill and do not. I'm telling you that you cannot kill that group yet. If you do, it will cause a domino effect of outting our sources in the resistance." She turns her head one and a half degrees, precisely. "Am I making myself perfectly clear? You leave them alone or I will ensure you get sent to back home to run a reprogramming terminal for the next twenty years. Am I clear enough for you?" Her voice cuts through the conversation like a hot knife. The Six rages a little, knowing she's right. He wants to punch her. Knuckles crack in his gloved hands as he prepares to. Then, "Good. Glad we're in agreement. Go back to your duties and go guard something useless, you idiot." Her voice is aimed directly at him and his line. There's no lift of her arm, she just uses her shoulder to push past him, heels clicking on the concrete.

Elias looks back at Knox. The Skinjob looks back. "Got a tongue like a pit viper. Nobody likes Eight. She thinks her shit doesn't stink, sir."

Anger again. The Sixes have a lot of that, it seems. Not that Elias hasn't suspected it but, at least as long as he's in the memory, he understands it completely. Frak Eight and the horse she road in on. But somewhere mixed in with it is a more detached impression — Elias Gray can appreciate the Eight's precision; the cold certainty of her reasoning; the total lack of fraks given. Perhaps it's this that helps him un-ball the fist his left hand has clenched, even before the memory is completely gone. "I can see why," he says quietly. "If Eight had tact One might not be where he is." This has he thinking, and it takes a moment before he realizes there may be more. "You … don't have Five or Ten, I assume? Which would seem to … cover it."

"That tracks, sir. The Sixes and Nines are basically in agreement- the free models, I mean- that everyone is blindly following One's lead because of some kind of enforced thought process that was part of the original programming. They follow his lead sort of like a compulsion. Something on P seems to overwrite is. Something about it." He shakes his head again. "Negative, Major. I have nothing on Five or Ten. Three is a total unknown. I don't even know if its male or female."

"I see." Elias releases the other man's hand and steps back, looking a little distracted still as he tries to sort through his own memories, making sure he can recall the faces he's just seen. Carefully he stoops to retrieve his fallen pad and pen, stowing them in his pocket and taking out his lighter and a rumpled pack of smokes. Getting the cigarette out, into his mouth, and lit is a bit of challenge, as Elias' hands are visibly shaking. A few seconds with the smoke, and then he seems back on task. Mostly. "I need to go to the Admiral and pitch Libran. It's either going to be a major fleet op, or a small recon group in this thing." He gestures to the Raider around them. "I'm leaning towards the later. But we'll need a pilot."

Knox looks over to the Marines and takes a step back as the hand drops. He looks up towards the cockpit section and where his radio pack is, letting Elias light his cigarette like that without an awkward audience. The voice brings his gaze back and he nods. "I won't be the best pilot. Sixes also aren't allowed there, as far as I know. So a covert insertion might not work - if that's your plan. But the other option isn't exactly attractive, either. I don't envy the choice, sir. But, sir, I do feel the need to forward this:" Knox looks right at him. "Sir, you have no way to verify that I am who I say I am. None. I could easily be an imposter Six just using Knox's own memories to get in here. I could have a bomb inside me. There could be anything wrong with me. I'm wrong for this. I'll do it with an order, but there's too much at stake. I cannot be trusted, yet."

Elias listens, hears the Six out, and then takes a long pull on his smoke. "I have no way to verify who you are, or any other Six, or any of the other lines for that matter. Would I be able to verify Captain Delacroix?" He shakes his head slightly. "I appreciate the situation, Sergeant. But I'm rather low on choices. Unless you have another pilot to offer? Twelve has denied even being able to fly the Heavy Raider, and the line isn't allowed on Libran either. Possibly we can convert it to human control, but I doubt it can be done in the time available. That leaves us with no other option save the fleet."

Knox listens and makes a face that doesn't look quite settled with this. A little sour. His eyes drift away and he runs his hand over his short hair. After a few, he nods slowly. "Yeah, okay, sir. But only if Petra signs off on this. And I can't lie to the Marines. If they don't know where I've been already, they're going to ask." he takes a long breath and nods. "Yeah, okay, sir. But my objection is registered, Major. I will request that upon return that security measures are taken. Even if I don't return to Orion. Would that be acceptable, sir?"

"The Colonel and the Admiral will be making the call," Elias confirms. "I'm the Intelligence Officer, Sergeant. I only make recommendations. And I'm afraid where you've been and what you've been doing isn't as secret as I might have liked. Someone leaked the brig surveillance tape of the your brother Six talking with the Twelve." And then there's a curt nod for the formality of Knox's protest. "Objection noted, Sergeant. And yes, we'll have sufficient security on hand in case there's an … unforeseen problem." His gaze goes down the ramp to where the two full squads of Marines are waiting around with their heavy weapons. "I'm going to assume that your cooperation, and the fact that I'm still alive and at liberty, is proof enough this time."

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