AWD #360: Faithful Twelve
AWD #360: Faithful Twelve
Summary: Elias revisit the Twelve vacationing in Orion's brig, seeking additional answers.
Date: 17/06/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Twelfth Step
Elias Dropkickst 
The Brig
Where the brigands are.
AWD #360

It has been a couple days since Skyler left the rest of the pack there with the Twelve. He didn't exactly burn through it, though. The guy still has, by camera accounts, one left. He's been well-kept with his showers and food, nothing towards torture. He's been reading books, but all hard-bound and fully inspected. So far nothing untoward. He remains in his cell in his orange jumpsuit, sitting on his bed and reading a murder-mystery. Relatively new. He's burned through most of the classics.

The Fleet Intel Officer has been busy with the fallout from the last Rangar mission, and it has taken a few days to get back on track with his previous plan of action. Top of the list: Talk to the Twelve again. And so Elias arrives in the brig with his trusty clipboard, his own folding chair, and a smoke of his own already propped between his lips. After the usual security check with the MPs, the young Major ambles over to set up his chair in front of the skinjob's cell and settle in with his clipboard on his lap. A pen and a small ashtray are drawn from his jacket pockets, arranged neatly atop the blank sheet of paper, and then Elias is as ready as he'll ever be. Taking a long drag on his cigarette, he turns to regard the Twelve, waiting to see if their guest will start the conversation or not.

The Twelve looks over as the door opens. The page is marked with his thumb and he folds the book over it. Waiting until the chair is set up, he finally leans forward and goes to a more casual lean forward on the bunk while he waits. Once the set-up is complete, he dips his head a bit. "Major Gray. So good to see you again. Interesting to no longer see Skyler here. We had an interesting rapport." He smiles a bit and looks down again to dogear the page he was on, then setting it aside. "What can I help you with?"

There's a thin, wry smile for the Twelve's greeting. "Yes you did," he says for the rapport the skinjob mentions. Then Elias takes another puff before he explains. "Lieutenant Almaeda is on temporary assignment. But something you told her in your last conversation has left me with a number of questions." And then there's another brief pause as the man considers. "You can help me by answering them. I'm not certain you're willing to, or able, but it may have some bearing on how we handle Libran."

The Twelve shows no sigh of reaction until Libran is mentioned. "Tick-tock, Major. Tick-tock." He slowly rises from the bunk and reaches to his pocket. Out comes the pack with the last cigarette he has. "Could I get a light?" There's a glance to the MP's. So far, docile, no attempts to do much else. He just approaches the bars with his hands behind his head and the smoke in his lips. There's a glance to Elias with it. "Ask away. I- we have our own interests involved with this."

"Yes," Elias says patiently. "I'm aware that time is a factor. But there are others in play." The Twelve's request causes the Major to study him blandly for a second, then Elias sighs and sets his things aside so he can stand. He digs out his lighter and moves to the bars, at least feigning unconcern as he flicks the flame alight and holds it up to the skinjob's cigarette. There's a pointed look for the Twelve's slip — clearly he noticed — but Elias doesn't bother remarking on it. Instead he tries to get down to business. "Lieutenant Almaeda gave you our best intel on Libran, and none of it seemed to be news to you. You already knew what was being done, and you already knew — or at least had a fairly confident guess about — why."

The Twelve takes the light and pulls on it with his lips before backing away from the bars. Once back far enough, he plucks it out and exhales. Leaning against the bars, he puts a shoulder to the divider between cells. "Sure. Like I said, some of my kind had spent time there. We have confident guesses. But they are still guesses, Major. We have no hard intelligence about what is there right now. After that whole net went up? I only know what I have already told." He takes another drag, looking at Elias. "Or do you have different questions, Major Gray?"

What Elias has is a long pause to smoke, and to study the Twelve in the cell. Then he lowers his cigarette again and exhales. "I assume you wouldn't waste time asking us to go to Libran to confirm what you already know." Now the Intel Officer seems to be thinking aloud, laying out his reasoning. "You mentioned One's activities as your main point of interest. Which suggests that you think One is up to something on Libran other than … trying to reboot human culture. Would you mind telling me what you think that may be?"

Elias can tell the difference between the Twelve he met on the ship and the one in the cell. The one he met initially would never have smiled or given a gesture of entertainment. Not like this. He smirks and nods towards Elias. "We both have better this to do, Major. Confirming what I already know does neither of us any good." The rest has him lift the cigrette ina bit of a cheers gesture before he takes a drag. "We are not entirely sure. Obviously One has his goals. Rebooting human culture is easy for a being where time means nothing. With enough effort, in eighty years, nobody will remember this war. It will be as if you all had never even fought off the Orion. A simple legend to be hunted down." He does not smile, though. "One is searching for something. We do not know what. His closest allies may know, but those model lines will not discuss it with us. There are factions forming. Or, well, there were. Times may have changed since my departure. But we need to know what he is looking for."

"Yes we do," Elias agrees, looking less than amused himself, but not particularly bothered by the Twelve's expression. He's not taking it personally. The question of whether or not the war will be erased from human memory is given only a frown of discomfort, and then left for another time. "Allies. Factions." Elias repeats these points, taking another puff as he muses. "And secrecy. Which leads me to wonder: is One keeping his motives secret because they're not in line with the other Lines, or even the Cylons as a whole?"

The Twelve listens easily. he just leans against the divider bars, cigarette smoke drifting by him. "These are all good questions, Major. But the answers to some of it are those we would like to know, ourselves. There are acts committed on all sides we would like explained, but many of them are periphery. I am here because we need to know about Libran. By my count, we have two weeks." he glances up as if looking to the hull while he takes a drag, then looks back. "But the conclusion is easy enough: If One felt the need to keep secrets then does it not conclude that he has something to hide from the others?"

"It seems a reasonable assumption," Elias responds. "But then I'm much less well informed than you are. You believe One is looking for something, but you say you don't know what. What makes you believe that something is important enough to risk…" he gestures with his cigarette towards the Twelve sitting in the brig, "Your current scheme?"

Twelve takes a drag and blows it down, looking down as well as he laughs. "Elias, not everything is lain out so plainly for you all. I'm here. I'm doing that I can. But if you were in my position, would you play all your cards?" He looks back. "Of course you wouldn't. But if there are secrets between the Lines, does that not invite curiosity? Is there not some acts that need be judged and shown to others? You decided upon Knox upon acts and faith. It paid off well. I still wish to speak with him but I seem to get the idea that his assignment is keeping him away." Twelve at least seems to surmise. "I cannot go get wounded for you. I cannot warn you of impending attack. But your faith paid off once. Perhaps it will again."

"If I wanted to convince a suspicious Intelligence officer that I wasn't merely trying to lure them to Libran?" Elias responds, arching a brow. "Yes, I think I might put my cards on the table. I need more than curiosity to justify sending people into battle, where some of them will die." The Intel officer carefully makes no comment about Knox's whereabouts, though he doesn't have a problem discussing the man himself. "Yes, I suppose there was a certain amount of faith involved in my judgment of Sergeant Knox, but I'm not sure that's an argument you want to make." His cigarette hand points the glowing end towards the skinjob. "Perhaps you should put some faith in us," Elias suggests pointedly, then takes a long draw of smoke. Afterwards he slowly lets it out. "If I'm going to convince the Admiral to do anything about Libran, I need something better than 'If my guess is correct, sir."

Twelve chuckles lightly. "If this were a trap, there are far easier ways to lay one. Coming to the Orion and giving you what I know is very easily the worst way to bait a trap. You all are suspicious, as you should be. It is why I'm here, Major." He takes a drag, looking relaxed. "And no, that's not an argument I want to make. I was only presenting positions, Major Grey." Standing off the bars, he moves to stand in the middle of the cell and look back at Elias. "I put faith in you by coming here. As I have said, I regret the loss of the lives to get here, but I did my best. You all could just kill me at any time. This whole venture is a leap of faith. On both sides. The question is whether or not you all want to make the leap. More precisely, if you have the ear of the Admiral, then it comes down to you. There is very little more I can offer. I can only say that I have done what I can to try and reach out." he takes another drag, ashing it to the toilet.

Now it is Elias' turn to look amused, but his humor is dry as a desert. "Telling us what you know?" He pauses for emphasis here. "You've given us the name of some agents in our midst, yes." Information he does appreciate, yes. But. "Something tells me you know slightly more than that." He goes back to gather up his ashtray where he left it on the chair, and taps his cigarette against the rim. Turning back to the Twelve, he takes a puff. "You have information that could save human lives. Possibly even help end the war. But it seems the only interest you have is in your own plan, and what we can do for you." He waves a hand, a wisp of smoke trailing from what little is left of his cigarette. "So don't try and put the responsibility all on me. You have options, Twelve. You could ask for asylum. Become your own person."

Twelve tilts his head. "Do you remember what I told Skyler about belittling my contribution? That it meant so little and that it was some small measure?" He tilts forward. "Do you? Because I told her it would mean the end of my speaking. I am assuming that you have seen the videos captured by these cameras. Spoken to her." He lets that hang for several moments. "My goals have never been a hidden agenda, Major. I told what I knew and I have saved this fleet from destruction and committed and act of treason in that motion. I do not desire to claim amnesty because I have need to return information to my line. I am not Sergeant Knox. I am not here to fight this war for you or for One. I am here because we need to know what we are doing and why." He takes a last drag and flicks it into the toilet. His smoke is exhaled up to the ceiling. "Sometimes you can look too deep into the water and see only blackness and doubt with depths that are not there. Sometimes, Major, you need only see the reflection. So shall we question my efforts again? Because I am happy to sit here in silence and when the end of this month passes, their decisions will be made. Or you can tet the tet with good faith. So far you have delivered and I could deliver that back if you return me. But we all have our missions." And his, as stated, is not complete without Libran.

Elias lets the Twelve talk. He smokes and he listens, expression guarded but attentive. He makes no attempt to argue or defend himself. And his immediate response after the skinjob is done is simply, "I see." One last drag on his smoke, and it's done as well, and the Intel officer leans over to crush out the last sliver in his ashtray. "I can see no reason not to recommend returning you, whether we learn anything of Libran or not. If you were concerned on that score." He begins to gather up his things. Apparently Elias sees their session drawing to a close. "And I wasn't asking you to fight this war for us. I was suggesting you fight it for yourself. At least then you'd know what you were doing, and why."

The prisoner nods slowly in appreciation. "Everything I have to report is on the assumption of good faith." He doesn't move from his lean, though, even while Elias gathers his things. The last remarks bring a sly smile. "Major, you're assuming that we are not fighting it for ourselves. Or me, for myself. There's no telling how much the actions here may resonate. Even to return me says certain things. To doubt me is to doubt yourselves. Sleep well, Major." He gives a lazy fingergun. Kerpow. The guy moves back to his bunk and back to his book.

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