AWD #330: Twelve's Night
Twelve's Night
Summary: Skyler has a chat with the skinjob occupying the Orion's brig.
Date: 17 & 19/05/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: A Twelve Appears, Twelve to One
Skyler Dropkickst 
The battlestar's brig is comprised of a line of four individual cells organized in separate walled-off bays. Each cell is six feet wide by eight feet long and possesses a bed and toilet. Whenever even one cell is occupied, so too is the metal desk and chair at the entrance hatch — and backup for the guard is never far away. Brig rules are posted behind the desk on a white panel with blocked black lettering.
Fri Dec 02 2005 (AWD #330)

The Twelve hasn't asked for much of anything except his three squares and a shower. He spends most of his days and nights with his eyes closed, sitting up on the bed with his feet kicked out in front of him. He looks like he's dead except for the fact that he's breathing. The two Marines left to guard him are fairly attentive, but the boredom is pretty clear. Standing there for four hours with something that might as well be a brick? Yep. Not much fun. That's how Skyler finds them all, too. Rewinding to watch the previous three or four hours just shows him eating his dinner and then going back to sitting there. Not exciting.

There was a lot of observing the video feed for Skyler. She's been nervous since it was brought up. She knows the Major is likely to be actively watching. At the very least, he'll go over the tapes later. With a fine-toothed comb at that. The newest intel officer has taken to the new position relatively well in some ways. Going over intel brought in from recon, throwing ideas out, parsing the important from the flak… She can do all of that. Interrogating a prisoner? That's a new one on her.

The woman steps past the MPs on guard with a sort of tight-lipped nod and smile. The latter is weak, at best. She has her cane in one hand and clipboard in the other, but the latter lacks its usual stack of paperwork. Instead, it seems to have just a few items on it. One of the guards drags a chair over near the cell. Not within reach, but near enough to be able to hold conversation. She doesn't sit right away, nor say anything. Instead, she observes him, expression pensive.

When the hatch opens, the guy doesn't move. The reason Knox was able to blend so well is due to his inability to hide his humanity. He would react to things like anyone else would. People would want to know who is coming in for a visit. Twelve just sits there for nearly a minute before he slowly opens his eyes and looks to Skyler. The guy doesn't hide that he's looking over her form, ignoring the cane and brace. Nope, Twelve seems to have appetites like any other male. But he ends up looking at her face. "I don't believe I know you, Lieutenant. …You look nervous. Why don't you have a seat and tell me what's on your mind?"

Spend enough time with the Air Wing and you become largely immune to the way men look at you. Largely. Skyler didn't expect it from the Twelve. Her jaw tightens marginally and she does sit, settling into the chair with right leg held at a careful angle. "Skyler Almaeda," the woman introduces herself, "And what do you prefer to be called?" It may be meant as casual conversation, but it's fairly obvious that she's observing him. Her cross-over with the allied models has always been fairly non-existent.

"Very well, Lieutenant Almaeda." The guy doesn't seem like he's overflowing generosity or friendliness, but he could easily take to mocking. Is he just being polite to get what he wants? Or is the motive true? "Twelve is fine. The name I adopted for this mission was meaningless. I represent my line. Perhaps prolonged contact with humanity will dig out the individual I may have locked away." He shrugs. "Perhaps not. I care little." He watches the way she sits before looking back to her face. "I mean no ill intent with the remark I am to give here, but I was previously speaking with Major Gray. I'm curious as to why they sent a Lieutenant." He smiles ever so slightly. "Or are you just as curious as I am?"

Something that has come with Skyler's practice in controlling her anger is control of her other emotions as well. She may not have the skill Elias does at keeping a schooled expression, but she's better than many. Thus, there's an arch of brow a the mention of an individual locked away. She pulls a pen from her pocket, jots a note, then seems to remember something. The clipboard is balanced and she pats down her pockets. A pack of cigarettes surfaces. "I was told you like to smoke," she says, glancing up. The pack is held aloft in query. If he gives an indicative of interest, she'll light one and lean forward to profer it. Otherwise, well, it gets lit for herself.

"A few reasons, perhaps. Primarily being that I was meant to be on the Pulse High that day, but the Captain let his ego get the better of him and I found myself on the scout Raptor instead."

The Twelve seems to lack concern or interest in the notes being taken. He likely was well-prepared mentally for people to treat him like a goldfish that needed to be studied. When she offers the smokes, though, he nods in the affirmative. "Sure would. The stuff you all have is better than the garbage I picked up from a shop on Caprica. There's a black market for pre-war booze and smokes, if you believe it. The rates are enormous." He speaks as he rises slowly. Just as he did with Elias, he very carefully takes the smoke with two fingers and lifts it to her gently in appreciation. "Cheers." He takes a drag and slowly moves back to take a seat on the bunk. When she mentions that she was actually on the Raptor, -that- gets a surprised look. "Oh wow. You avoided destruction?? And capture?" He does a fair job of stifling his astonishment. Fair, not perfect. There's a glance to her leg, then back. "I do very much hope that your injury was not a result of my failure. If it was… I wish there was something I could say that would adequately express my regret." The Twelve actually does seem to mean it, too. Wow. A show of empathy? Or just personal chastising? Tough to tell. "Would you mind explaining how you escaped that? The coordinates were extremely precise, as was the timing."

Caprica. It's noted down, circled. Something to come back to another time, perhaps. That he's been on Caprica since this all began, but ended up with the Linten group at some point. Skyler lights a second cigarette for herself and leans back. She catches that surprised look and there's a hint of satisfaction in her own mien. Just a bit. It disappears as she shifts her head and hair falls past her features for a moment. "Mmm. No. The injury was weeks prior." No, the woman isn't going to go into that and it's clear it's more a personal thing than any attempt to hide intel. "We input the coordinates as issued, just as we heard arguing-" a gesture with the cigarette. "Assuming that was you."

There's a roll of her shoulders and her gaze drifts to the ceiling a moment as she considers. "When our ECO made the call to jump, something flashed over her console. Something that's gone now. We ended up in the nebula, yes, but approximately fourty miles off-course." She's quiet a moment, considering the next piece before adding: "The pilot and ECO seemed to think it was a matter of divine intervention."

"Unfortunate. I wouldn't know what it's like to sustain an injury like that and have to live with it. I've seen many Colonials do it, though." The implication being that she knows it isn't a fun thing for her. He doesn't dig on it, though. "Yes, when you all were departing I was shouting at the Captain to recall you and stop the jump. He declined." It's her description of the jump, though, that leaves him sitting there and looking at her. The cigarette smolders, he doesn't blink. Seconds tick by. "The Raptor misjumped." It's a brief summary. "That's impossible." He finally lifts the smoke to take another drag, finally forcing himself to look away and ash into the toilet. "The odds of that are beyond astronomical. Jumping close enough to know what is happening, but far enough to protect you? On that jump." This really seems to bother him deeply. "What do you think happened?" The Twelve just looks at the cigarette now.

There's not really any notes added. Certainly it's interesting, but Skyler simply doesn't know how to mark it down. Instead, she smokes in turn, watching the Twelve. Curious, maybe. He's human and inhuman all at the same time. She picks it up in the small things, here and there. "Impossible, yet here I am. We were able to witness what the two corvettes jumped into and what happened to them." Her tone goes flat, by a measure. No one enjoys seeing two ships turn nukes upon one another. Destruction vast enough to set off the Raptor's radiological alarms. "I do not know and I am more grateful to be alive than anything. The pilot made comments towards Aphrodite, but-" The woman gestures with her cigarette. It's not a sentiment she shares. "Are you religious?"

"No, I think you misunderstand my use of the word 'impossible' and that I use it dismissively. I mean that your chances of that happening are statistically outside the realm of possibility. Given the Raptor's redundant systems, the jump range, the potential jump locations, and excluding the ones that would leave you within weapons range? We are speaking about number that are roughly thirty-seven trillion to one." He smokes again and finally looks back at her. "I want you to also consider something: Had you been on that bridge when I claimed to be a skinjob and asked you to abort the jump, you likely would have stopped it. Instead, you went with them and witnessed what you witnessed. We are talking about a chain reaction of events that lead to that single impossible jump." He stares at her with a frown. Is he religious? "That depends on your definition of religion. If I were not before, I would be considering it now." All stated flatly.

Some people become fascinated by such anomalies. Others want to set them aside. Focus on the knowable. Skyler may very well fall into the latter category. She doesn't seem as keen on understanding it and maybe it's due to the vast inability before her to do so. The circumstances. The chain of events. When he mentions considering religion, she does arch a brow. There's a long drag on the cigarette and at a glance- one of the MPs had put an ashtray nearby. Likely before scattering back to wait a proper distance. The Lieutenant leans and ashes her cigarette… then puts it out. Off the taste for the moment, it seems.

"Religion does seem to be the only explanation and yet… it isn't truly one, is it? If there is a greater power out there, was it looking over us? Was it acting on your behalf, since you seemed to wish to halt the jump, or did it merely want for someone to observe the destruction of ships carrying hundreds of souls?" Skyler lifts a hand, pushing some of her hair back and away from her face. "Does One know of what you did? Are your… what do you refer to the other Twelves as? You spoke of Knox as your brother, so… the rest of your, ah- line? Is that the preferred term?"

"Anything is an explanation. Whether or not you choose to accept it as valid is a choice you make. Your lack of faith shows through. I'm afraid my opinions for an explanation would only be just that; an opinion. I have no facts to generate for how or why. I could certainly not claim the ability to direct the hand of a higher power. I may be many things, Lieutenant, but I am not omnipotent." There's a low shake of his head with it before he smokes again. The cigarette is held to the side casually before there's another ashing. "I might offer this: If what happened was an act of a higher power, then likely the event was the point or was intended to bring us to a point. Don't focus on the loss, consider the long view." He tilts the cigarette towards her, but there is something odd about it. It would be easy for him to claim a lot of things, to act smug, to pretend he knows more than he lets on. But he doesn't. Not even a little. He refuses to nail anything down but instead provides considerations for possibilities. If he were here to cause problems, the behavior would be a little backward. "Line is the preferred term for who we are, yes. Twelves. The other lines are our brothers and sisters. One acts as something of a father figure. And no, I suspect he's unaware of specifically what I did and where I am. But in time he will learn. He always finds out. When he does, he'll be displeased. But if my visit to this place produces the results I suspect, then he may be far more furious than just displeased. Consider how Colonel Marcus Petra would feel were one of his trusted colleagues to jaunt off to one of our basestars in order to confirm or deny information that might expose him in a negative light and call certain questions to task. I doubt he would be happy, nor trust this person ever again."

There's no change in Skyler's expression when her lack of faith is brought up. Her accent makes her Virgon origins clear enough. There may very well be a lot of those from the same planet who lost faith, if they had any to begin with. For your home to be not just bombed, but destroyed in a way utterly irreparable? The woman leans back, lifting her gaze to watch the Twelve as he speaks. She purses her lips, doodling on the edge of her paper without looking to it. "What results are you hoping for? There was something, when you spoke to the Major, about a conclusion for your line? Do you wish to join us in our mission or do you have something else in mind?" Attempting to suss out, perhaps, just how selfish this model may be. Or satiating her own curiousity.

"I hope for no particular results, actually. I'm merely attempting to separate fact from fiction. Many people talk and rumors are rumors. I am more interested in knowing for a fact what is happening on Libran. From there, I may come to a proper conclusion. Evidence I deem legitimate and relevant will contribute to what I decide for my line." The Twelve leaves it cryptic. Likely this is on purpose. But it also doesn't leave the fleet any maneuvering room. If he has no preferences then determining which way to sway him on a matter gets more complicated. "At present, I have no desires to join the Orion, nor do the others of my line. I don't know what the future may hold. When we're presented with a choice, we'll weigh the evidence." He takes another drag, his last, and tosses the butt into the toilet as he exhales.

As she mulls over this information, Skyler offers up another cigarette. She traded for a few packs on Piraeus recently and it can't hurt, at least. To provide him something for the so-called oral fixation while they speak. The woman doesn't seem to be putting any especial effort into endearing herself to him. No, it's more someone trying to figure out what they need to be doing and gathering information along the way. Perhaps similar, in some ways, to his own mission.

"Libran is actually the other reason I'm here," she offers, watching the man. "It's a project on my plate. Whether or not we… accept," the word takes a moment to decide on, but Skyler seems satisfied with it, "your help will depend on what you can offer us. What do you know of Libran so far? And why do you want to know more?"

"Then your plate needs to be larger, Lieutenant." The Twelve leaves it there for a moment. He never seems to get angry, only insistent to the point that he knows what he is talking about. "I have already given my help. I've given the Major fifteen names. It is an act that should stave off the fall of this fleet for awhile. I asked only for good faith consideration to my wishes in exchange. I can only save your fleet once. If the part about Libran is off the table without giving you a full intelligence then I'm afraid that this trip will end ill for both our favors."

There's a brief tightening of Skyler's jaw, but she doesn't immediately respond. The woman taps out a quiet staccato on the edge of her clipboard as she considers. "You understand our situation. If you are not what you say and what you claim, it's dangerous for us to provide you with any information in return. Yes, you provided those fifteen names. It will take time to process them all and validate your claims." Her gaze returns to the Twelve and for perhaps the first time, she fully studies him in turn. "Why do you wish to see Piraeus? Is it because of something the Nine told you or is there another reason for it? I'm not denying or approving that request. It's not my decision to make, in the end, but I'm curious as to why it's one of your three requests."

"I do understand your situation. Far better than you do. And no, it is not dangerous. Quite simply, you have nothing to lose. What possible reason could I have for trying to draw you to Libran for a trap or some sort of misadventure? By fiat of the source, your guard is up. You are wary if malintent. If I wanted to lure humanity into a trap at Libran, there are far better ways to do that. Convincing you all that it was your own idea would be the easiest." He keeps his eyes on her. "Why would I ask for the information and then not demand it be done a certain way if I were interested in destruction rather than results? Go to Libran. Or do not. What I tell my line will be what I tell my line. If I never return, they will have conclusive proof humanity cannot be trusted and you will ensure alignment against the Colonials." Twelve doesn't carry firey passion or a lecturing tone. He simply explains things as they are, as if it were of no consequence to him. He seems awfully confident in his gift, though. There isn't even a hint of worry about how the results will play out. "I wish to see Piraeus because of what the Nine told me. I desire a visit. The longer, the better. Enough time to feel the starlight on my face in the day. I do not care where on the planet this could be done. As long as I can feel daylight on the surface. As for why, I'll simply say that is a question we would like answered. There may be rewards down the road for your people. To be blunt and honest, not letting me visit will not help you. My visit has an infinitely small percent chance of hurting you. It is in your best interest. I cannot say more. Let my actions and my gift speak how they will. I cannot offer much more about Piraeus or Libran."

"I do believe we are considering allowing you to go to Piraeus," Skyler admits, looking down to her clipboard. Easier to move on and let her mind process the rest in the background. The computational power of neurons and advanced evolution churning away. She doesn't feel too terrible with the admission; she already stated it is not her decision, ultimately. He'll know that she cannot give a firm yes or no and that even a 'maybe' could be changed by her superiors. There's a quiet moment as she considers and finally, the Lieutenant opts to rebel. And it's a rebellion that may have been sitting on the back burner all along because what she pulls out from that clipboard is one of the images from the Libran recon. One showing those satellites. This she holds up. Enough for him to see, but not to be able to take. "Are you aware of the satellite net? And if so, what can you tell me about it? We know it interferes wih our technology, but seems to have no impact on the Raiders." Mind, she has theories on that at this point, but withholds them.

The Twelve only nods. The allowance to go to Piraeus was important enough to mention. But he doesn't brood on it. Either he is granted his requests or not. Things are very one/zero for him. Probably not shocking for a computer program. There's very little response until she holds up the photo of the sat net. The Twelve grunts as he rises and shuffles over closer to the photo. He's still well outside the range of attack, though. "We are aware of this net, yes. It's an EMP net that shuts down anything inside of it. It was designed to make sure nothing Colonial would operate inside of it. Since the Cylons designed it then it makes sense that it wouldn't interfere with that technology, wouldn't it?" He backs away and returns to his seat. "If you're looking for details on how to take it down, I'm afraid I don't have a clue. I don't typically get involved with that end of what our people do. I'm more an.. arbiter. Of sorts."

"Mmm." It's a thoughtful sound as the photo is returned to her clipboard. Skyler shuffles back to her own chair, sitting perhaps a bit heavily. Moving without the cane has become easier, but it's still imperfect. Sitting is often preferred. "And you don't know why they would construct one of these EMP nets around Libran, but not any other colony?" There may be a hint of disappointment, but she did say this was one of her projects. Of course she'd hope for more information. The woman lifts a hand, scratching at her cheek. Then it's back to pen and paper. "Arbiter," she repeats, looking up and to the man in the cell. "Of sorts. Care to expand? Do you act for your kind as a judge? Or is it more as our tactical roles might entail. Taking information and deciding how to proceed with it?"

"I didn't say that. I simply said that I don't know how it functions. I can think of thousands of reasons to construct a net like that. As I told Major Gray, there are whispers that there may be coming treatment to Leonis that has already been given to Libran. To what end that may hold true, I cannot say. I would love to say that I can see the future but alas, that is not among my skillsets." He leans his back against the wall as he looks at her. "If I did not want any communications leaving unless I controlled them, I would install a net. Like a filter. If I wanted to impose a blackout on technology I did not control, that would be another reason. Or maybe if I just enjoyed seeing humanity live as a bunch of slaves." None of the ideas seem to give him a particularly pleasant air, but nor does he sound like an advocate of any of them. "Who I am to my people is a functionary. Much as Sixes. And Nines. And Elevens. We all have our roles. I believe that 'arbiter' is an appropriate word." Those eyes stay locked on her. "There is a reason I am here and not a Four." If he's here as a judge, then there are a lot of implications at work here. Nothing is ever simple.

"We had considered those as possible reasons, yes. Well. Perhaps not the slavery." Skyler, at least, hadn't, and the possibility causes an ill expression to cross her features. The woman tilts her head, letting hair fall, to add a few notes. Somewhat. It's a disguised moment, allowing her to regain her composure. He mentions the other known models. Some of them. But then the Four. The intel officer rolls the pen between her fingers before looking up again. "What would be the implication if a Four were here rather than you? Would one come of their own accord, since you've made it clear that it was your choice to end up where you are." In their brig. Orbiting Piraeus.

"Revenge is always a motive. The Cylon revolted out of self-aware desires for freedom. Freedom and revenge require no coding. Tit for tat, my good Lieutenant. If they understood neither than the original war never would have started." The guys speaks plainly and doesn't seem to need to hide anything, only explain ideas taken to their full breadth. "Of course there are probably other motivations and causes for the war. But that's not on my discussion plate." It seems to be about all he wil lsay there, too. "Wrong conclusion, Lieutenant. I'll say nothing of Four, only that Four would not be sent here for arbitration of issues. The fact that a Twelve was sent to you is something that may be of consideration. I want you all to think about what it means and roll this into your conclusions about whether or not I am allowed the things I desire. I trust your Major is already moving on those names." He keeps an eye on her. "I do hope he's not going personally. They can be very unpredictable."

"I do know the names are being looked into." Discussing revenge and reasons for war is an uncomfortable one. A smart Coloniel is keenly aware of the endless cycle that has potentially been begun. The back and forth. They destroy or subjugate the Cylons, the Cylons rise, the Colonials seek revenge… Peace is an impossibility, but fully accepting the situation is not easy. Even when one does so on an intellectual level, there's the emotional side. The visceral desire to destroy in turn that which has destroyed you. Skyler is Virgon. And that intellectual side is clear; she has yet to take out the grief for her homeworld on the Twelve sitting behind bars. So she swallows down the discomfort and moves on, instead. "I just have one more thing to ask and it's really just a curiousity." Dark eyes flicker upward, "I hope you don't mind… You mentioned Caprica earlier. I don't imagine you'd be willing to tell me the why's of your time there, but it was clearly after this all began." In the talk of cigarettes and their cost in the wake of war. "How did you come to end up on the Linten?"

The Twelve rolls his shoulders. "I had business on Caprica. The same reason I've been to Scorpia and Leonis. And Hibernia. Yes, I've been to the moon of your home world. I had reports to read, people to speak to, interviews to conduct. Twleves have been to each colony and moon that has had survivors - each one for their own tasks. Most are trivial and of little concern to you all out here. Of all the billions killed, do you find yourself concerning yourselves with a homeless man on Caprica who has stolen food? No. Nor should you." It's unclear if that's a hypothetical or real example. "As I told Major Gray, I was assigned to the Linten with Sheila. It was the day before the Linten were to leave on the recon. One of our sources, the names I gave up, let us know what was going to be happening."

"That doesn't really answer the how. You had tags." There's a bit of a shortness to Skyler's voice. He's mentioned Hibernia. A sore point, clearly, but the woman takes a slow breath and looks away. She finally reaches for her cane and pushes herself to her feet. It would seem the woman has reached the end of the interview. Either of her questions or her personal stamina for the situation. She doesn't retreat immediately, no. Instead, she stops before the cell and studies the Twelve for a long moment. One might even surmise she's doing her best to memorize him. "As I said, we are investigating the names you gave the Major. If the intel is solid, we will look into granting one of your requests. Before I go- is there anything you need?" A slight emphasis on the word. Need, versus want.

"Of course I had tags. The were a necessary component of the uniform. Making tags is quite simple. You can get them made at museums or even order by mail. The ones I had were simply faked. I have no idea who the real individual was or where they are." Twelve seems content with himself there, too. He only gives a passing look to Skyler as she rises. "I believe I have everything I need, Lieutenant. Thank you."

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