tobecaprican | the last voyages // 2. video. no filter.

Entry tags:

the last voyages // 2. video. no filter.

[ Somewhat less ruffled than the first time he transmitted a video, but only just, Gaius Baltar sits in view of the camera, nursing a cigarette, and looking faintly disturbed. He is also dressed like a pirate, from the elegant open-throated shirt through to gold-buttoned waistcoat. The bandanna has been left to hang around his neck, and there are a couple of rings on his fingers that are somewhat chunky and antiquated.

They glint a little as he takes another drag from his cigarette. It's a self-medicating technique so he doesn't freak out at people over phones again. He's just spent a few days believing he was a pirate, never you mind. When he poses his question, it's quite measured; ]

Does this happen very often?

OOC: I may still pirate!Baltar backtag a bit, but. \ oAo/

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A T-X?

If Sarah didn't know the model, then it was advanced. Very advanced. She picked up a taser and wondered if the electrical charge would disrupt the machine's ability to function -- or would kill it. Metal was superconductive, which would mean a high enough voltage would probably kill Sarah as well.

They would be incur a Death Toll. And the T-X would kill her again.

"She can kill me a thousand times, over and over and and over," Sarah said in a rough voice. "Like a game, an experiment. I know how they think. The machines. The metal. I know. They're programmed not to stop, ever, no matter what. And I'm on her list of people to kill."

So was John.

Sarah paused, testing out the charge rate of the direct contact taser. It warmed fairly quickly, but she wasn't sure if it was fast enough. Nothing was fast enough.

"If that bitch is coming for me," Sarah murmured, setting the taser down, "I won't die quietly. It doesn't matter if I come back or not, what matters is not experiencing death. It's unpleasant and as fucking human beings, we tend to not like experiencing the unpleasant. I've been fighting against her shit for more than a decade. If she wants to know where I am, it's not because she wants to have tea and fucking cookies."

"No-- yes-- that's what I gathered, but I couldn't just tell her to sod off. Just said I'd pass on the message."

This was a lot of information to take in, and Gaius wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to react. He didn't know this woman, and she stood between himself and his freedom, in her own way, but she also hinged upon it, as well as day to day protection. And quite literally, they've both been in the same boat. On at least two different occasions. Fingers worried through his hair in vague unhappiness.

A sudden idea had him lifting his head. "You should talk to the Admiral. Or-- frak-- if he won't shift his sorry arse, then the other wardens or something. I'm pretty sure people'd object to some toaster trying to murder someone over'n over again.

"I don't like that she used me, you know. Like I've not got my own robot-related problems to handle."

"He won't budge," she said a little sullenly. "Recent events make that clear." Sarah zapped the taser again, just because she could. "If I talk to the Wardens, it'll have to be off channel. That thing is listening. And to be fair, I'm not sure she can't hack this conversation."

Her paused was a little longer, then.

"I don't like that she used you, but that's what they do. If you'd been in front of her, she might have killed you, taken your face...and then killed me--depending on what her model can do."

There were a thousand ways this might go. And she hoped to God it wouldn't end up with her own inmate staring death in the face. If she were the Terminator...she'd try to draw her prey out by taking Gaius captive. And hurting him--or killing him and taking his shape if she was anything like that last one. It made sense and followed Skynet logic.

And Sarah would be lying if she said she wasn't frightened for the man. She locked the fear out and focused on what really mattered--Gaius Baltar. Sarah had been charged with helping him. In her book that meant keeping him safe. After all, she'd promised to make sure no one would hurt him.

She promised--and that was one damned thing that she did her best to keep. Even to men who basically allowed the fucking apocalypse happen by not keeping it in his pants. She was dealing with that, though. He was just like Miles, an unwitting participant in mass slaughter. If he'd known, he might not have done it. Maybe. Gaius had a long way to go as far as being an inmate went down, but he didn't deserve to get his ass murdered.

"Gaius," she said in a quiet but deadly serious voice, "you so much as suspect you're being followed, you get the fuck back to your cabin and you bolt that damn door. Don't answer it. Not even if it's me. Not even if I sound like I'm dying. You don't touch the door, you hear me? If one of us has to suffer a death toll, it's not going to be you."

Edited 2011-09-24 14:32 (UTC)

If it was anything else, maybe Gaius would have called her paranoid. Delusional, even. Because that would be easier to process, and she wasn't acting like someone with the most subjective frame of mind.

But a potent combination of desiring to survive at any cost and pure fear at anything that could readily be identified as a Cylon was easy to get swept up in, and feed off the alertness and authority coming tinny through the communicator. Gaius gripped the thing tighter as she gave him those instructions, nodding in complete agreement about how it's not going to be him, and how he'll bolt the damn door, and get the fuck-- frak-- back to his cabin at the slightest hint of trouble. And not die.

It's a good thing that immediate socialisation is likely not in the shortlist of rehabilitation tools when it comes to Gaius Baltar. His cabin sounded like a nice place to be.

"Right. Yes. That sounds like a good plan, I think, the bolting and um. I'll let you know if I hear from her again, shall I." He got up, the video transmitted to Sarah going briefly blurred in motion, but there was the sound of him locking his door. Just to make everyone feel a little better, even if no scary robot lady was going to be bearing down on him right then. But Sarah tests her taser, and Gaius will make sure the door closes fast. "You'll let me know what you're doing, won't you?"

"Good move. Keep your eyes open," she said, her voice sharp, but not at him. "And for safety's sake, we need to figure out an identity code. Just in case."

She snapped the lighter open and closed, the metallic click loud.

"I won't leave you out of the loop. I promised."

"Next time I see you in person, I'll tell you my home planet," Baltar proposed, moving across the room to ash his cigarette into the crystal tray by his bed -- the cigarette itself near burned to the filter, but he had a couple of inhales left in it to make it count. There had been a time when smoking the things merely partway before flicking them aside, but while cigarettes aren't so rare a commodity, you never do know.

He sat back down. "There's twelve of 'em to pick from, so she'd have to be an exceptionally lucky toaster."

"Good, then. I'll tell you about Mexico," she said softly. "The machine knows nothing about it. Not the part I'll be telling you at any rate."

She paused to smoke for a moment.

"Gaius? Stay safe." It was almost an order, almost.

It's an order he was happy to obey.

"Aye, captain," he said, with the faintest hint of a smirk. And with that, he terminated communication.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

the last voyages // 2. video. no filter.

Totes private.

private,

Re: private,

private.

Re: private.

private.

Re: private.

private.