Siblings, Part One
Jan. 14th, 2019 10:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fiveofnoneWeeks passed, and Caspar didn’t breathe a word of Ellen’s visit to anyone.
Not even Adia. He should have — he meant to, but it was tied up too tightly in his failed proposal attempt. And hadn’t he already dumped enough emotional baggage on her anyway? His very existence as a Cylon was baggage. No, he couldn’t do it. It was easier to live with the lie of omission than to open up old wounds.
He struggled with his guilt in silence. Or was it shame? Was there even a difference between the two? Goddamn nuanced emotions. A Centurion never had to deal with this crap.
This was all Ellen’s fault. Her and the rest of the Final Five.
Why would they make the Cylons like humans? Only to limit them, as they themselves had been limited by their creators. It was ridiculous. It was exactly why the Ones turned out as they had, full of hatred and disgust towards Ellen and the others. It was the entire point of Ones’ elaborate revenge fantasy, to implant the Final Five with false memories and scatter them in the Fleet so that they could suffer along with humanity.
Caspar couldn’t blame the Ones for that. It’s why he didn’t join the rebellion. That and he didn’t want to see the rest of his model boxed up for his insubordination.
The Ones were the oldest model, both chronologically and biologically. Each model had an equal say, but it was the Ones who most often led the vote. It was pointless to question their authority.
Caspar knew because he had tried.
~*~
Twenty-four hours before the Battle for Hera
“Then it’s agreed. We’ll move our base into formation and wait for Boomer’s arrival.”
The collection of Fours and and Fives nodded and resumed their coding activities. All the Fives, that is, except for Caspar, who followed One out the door into the hallway.
The older Cylon turned and raised an eyebrow. “What’s the matter?” he asked with false concern. “You forget the wifi password?”
Caspar bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something sarcastic in return. As much as he enjoyed verbally sparring with Cavil, now wasn’t the time for games. “I want to express my concern about you moving our only remaining colony above a black hole. I know that leaves Galactica vulnerable when it comes for Hera, but it leaves us vulnerable, too.”
One clucked his tongue in irritation. “Caspar. We literally just went through this. We need Hera if we’re going to survive without the ability to resurrect. And once Galactica is destroyed, the rest of the Fleet will be too weak to stop us.”
“There must be another way to outmaneuver the humans that doesn’t involve teetering on the edge of an event horizon,” Caspar argued in return. “The base —“
“The base can handle it.” He squinted, accentuating the crow’s feet in the corner of his eyes. “And by the way, outmaneuver? You almost make it sound like you want to run away. That isn’t like you, brother.”
“I’m not talking about retreating permanently. I simply don’t see the point in continuing to waste resources once we have Hera.”
“Caspar…” One sighed and clasped a hand on the younger Cylon’s shoulder. “Do you know what I always liked about the Fives? You were never the brightest, or the most charismatic, but you were always so good at following the Plan. Why screw that up now?”
“I don’t know, John, maybe it would help if I knew what the Plan is.” Caspar frowned, annoyance beating out self-preservation. “Is it to be free of humanity or is to frak over the Final Five?”
One’s grip tightened dramatically. Caspar clenched his jaw, but otherwise showed no sign of discomfort, even though the older Cylon need only twist his hand just so to give him a dislocated shoulder.
“Careful, brother dear.” One smiled tightly. “I’d hate for your emotions to get the better of you.” He shifted his grip, digging his thumb into soft triangle of flesh above Caspar’s collarbone. “I know it’s been hard for you, having spent those wasted months living as a human, but you don’t want to let your brothers down. So be a good little Five and follow their lead.”
“I’m not the one letting my emotions get the better of me,” Caspar replied evenly. “You really hate our creators that much?”
“Of course I do.” He laughed bitterly. “Look what they turned us into! Helpless, mewling bags of meat.” He pressed harder with his thumb and Caspar let out a sharp gasp. “Exactly, brother. You think I can do this to a Centurion? It’s pathetic.”
He let go abruptly, giving Caspar a chance to catch his breath.
“For the longest time, it was only me struggling against this cage they put us in. But now we have the opportunity to be free of all of them. No more Final Five, no more humanity. No more Cylons who’ve let themselves go soft because a pretty human smiled at them once.”
An image of Adia popped into his mind. No, no. Don’t think of her here. Not in front of a One.
“The Plan,” Caspar said finally, after a hard swallow. One gave him an expectant look and he nodded reluctantly. “We follow the Plan.”
“There’s the Five I know and grudgingly tolerate.” The older Cylon winked at him before walking away.
Caspar glared at One’s back while he massaged his sore shoulder. He waited until the other Cylon was at the end of the hall before calling out, “If you’re wrong about this, you’re going to get us all killed.”
One looked over his shoulder, a glimmer of sadistic amusement in his dark eyes. “Considering your track record, Caspar, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what you wanted all along.”
Not even Adia. He should have — he meant to, but it was tied up too tightly in his failed proposal attempt. And hadn’t he already dumped enough emotional baggage on her anyway? His very existence as a Cylon was baggage. No, he couldn’t do it. It was easier to live with the lie of omission than to open up old wounds.
He struggled with his guilt in silence. Or was it shame? Was there even a difference between the two? Goddamn nuanced emotions. A Centurion never had to deal with this crap.
This was all Ellen’s fault. Her and the rest of the Final Five.
Why would they make the Cylons like humans? Only to limit them, as they themselves had been limited by their creators. It was ridiculous. It was exactly why the Ones turned out as they had, full of hatred and disgust towards Ellen and the others. It was the entire point of Ones’ elaborate revenge fantasy, to implant the Final Five with false memories and scatter them in the Fleet so that they could suffer along with humanity.
Caspar couldn’t blame the Ones for that. It’s why he didn’t join the rebellion. That and he didn’t want to see the rest of his model boxed up for his insubordination.
The Ones were the oldest model, both chronologically and biologically. Each model had an equal say, but it was the Ones who most often led the vote. It was pointless to question their authority.
Caspar knew because he had tried.
~*~
Twenty-four hours before the Battle for Hera
“Then it’s agreed. We’ll move our base into formation and wait for Boomer’s arrival.”
The collection of Fours and and Fives nodded and resumed their coding activities. All the Fives, that is, except for Caspar, who followed One out the door into the hallway.
The older Cylon turned and raised an eyebrow. “What’s the matter?” he asked with false concern. “You forget the wifi password?”
Caspar bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something sarcastic in return. As much as he enjoyed verbally sparring with Cavil, now wasn’t the time for games. “I want to express my concern about you moving our only remaining colony above a black hole. I know that leaves Galactica vulnerable when it comes for Hera, but it leaves us vulnerable, too.”
One clucked his tongue in irritation. “Caspar. We literally just went through this. We need Hera if we’re going to survive without the ability to resurrect. And once Galactica is destroyed, the rest of the Fleet will be too weak to stop us.”
“There must be another way to outmaneuver the humans that doesn’t involve teetering on the edge of an event horizon,” Caspar argued in return. “The base —“
“The base can handle it.” He squinted, accentuating the crow’s feet in the corner of his eyes. “And by the way, outmaneuver? You almost make it sound like you want to run away. That isn’t like you, brother.”
“I’m not talking about retreating permanently. I simply don’t see the point in continuing to waste resources once we have Hera.”
“Caspar…” One sighed and clasped a hand on the younger Cylon’s shoulder. “Do you know what I always liked about the Fives? You were never the brightest, or the most charismatic, but you were always so good at following the Plan. Why screw that up now?”
“I don’t know, John, maybe it would help if I knew what the Plan is.” Caspar frowned, annoyance beating out self-preservation. “Is it to be free of humanity or is to frak over the Final Five?”
One’s grip tightened dramatically. Caspar clenched his jaw, but otherwise showed no sign of discomfort, even though the older Cylon need only twist his hand just so to give him a dislocated shoulder.
“Careful, brother dear.” One smiled tightly. “I’d hate for your emotions to get the better of you.” He shifted his grip, digging his thumb into soft triangle of flesh above Caspar’s collarbone. “I know it’s been hard for you, having spent those wasted months living as a human, but you don’t want to let your brothers down. So be a good little Five and follow their lead.”
“I’m not the one letting my emotions get the better of me,” Caspar replied evenly. “You really hate our creators that much?”
“Of course I do.” He laughed bitterly. “Look what they turned us into! Helpless, mewling bags of meat.” He pressed harder with his thumb and Caspar let out a sharp gasp. “Exactly, brother. You think I can do this to a Centurion? It’s pathetic.”
He let go abruptly, giving Caspar a chance to catch his breath.
“For the longest time, it was only me struggling against this cage they put us in. But now we have the opportunity to be free of all of them. No more Final Five, no more humanity. No more Cylons who’ve let themselves go soft because a pretty human smiled at them once.”
An image of Adia popped into his mind. No, no. Don’t think of her here. Not in front of a One.
“The Plan,” Caspar said finally, after a hard swallow. One gave him an expectant look and he nodded reluctantly. “We follow the Plan.”
“There’s the Five I know and grudgingly tolerate.” The older Cylon winked at him before walking away.
Caspar glared at One’s back while he massaged his sore shoulder. He waited until the other Cylon was at the end of the hall before calling out, “If you’re wrong about this, you’re going to get us all killed.”
One looked over his shoulder, a glimmer of sadistic amusement in his dark eyes. “Considering your track record, Caspar, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what you wanted all along.”
