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Entry tags:
- !location: obs deck,
- !plot: pod release,
- aeneas,
- alia atreides,
- arha masaari,
- arrowette,
- atomic robo,
- bart allen,
- batman,
- cameron mitchell,
- captain kirk,
- captain picard,
- chris ramirez,
- damian wayne,
- ender,
- fate testarossa harlaown,
- gaius baltar,
- gandrayda,
- ghanima atreides,
- green arrow,
- guy gardner,
- hal jordan,
- ice,
- indigo,
- jamie mccrimmon,
- jason todd,
- jean grey,
- john hancock,
- kelly-087,
- kyle rayner,
- leon s. kennedy,
- lex luthor,
- luke skywalker,
- malcolm reynolds,
- michael westen,
- nanoha,
- nightwing,
- obi-wan kenobi,
- qui-gon jinn,
- robin,
- samus aran,
- sensor,
- sheeana,
- sir sparhawk,
- static,
- terry mcginnis,
- the major,
- wonder woman
Sooo...Meet-y
The rest of the crew assembled on the Observation Deck to meet the latest editions to their number. After the recent revelation, many of them were even more eager to see people they knew from home.
Brainiac 5 and Sensor were set up near the doors to provide the new people with omnicoms and comm rings.
There's a lot to tell the new people. It's going to be a lot to take in.
Brainiac 5 and Sensor were set up near the doors to provide the new people with omnicoms and comm rings.
There's a lot to tell the new people. It's going to be a lot to take in.
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The bald and elderly man standing shortly after Brainiac 5 and Sensor might have been familiar to some. It all depended on what they knew and what reality they were from. Regardless, Picard greeted everyone with the same cordiality and warm tone, regardless of their own familiarity to him. "Hello and welcome aboard," he said. "My name is Jean-Luc Picard; I'm the captain of this vessel and her crew. I regret that your arrival had to be under such circumstances, but they cannot be helped, I'm afraid."
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He'd been promised some answers here, either way. The genial looking man who proclaimed himself to be Captain was not a Cylon model that Gaius had seen before. As he scanned the room for any faces that might be disturbingly familiar, he began to wonder what it meant if he there were none.
"Captain Picard," he said, trying to preserve what dignity he could in his tone given that he could still vividly recall the feeling of being covered in mucous moments before. "Is this a Cylon vessel?" If it was, he saw no reason they would hide it anymore, especially not from him. Though they did enjoy inflicting mind games on him in particular - perhaps this was some new brand of torment.
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"I'm unfamiliar with that species or organization," Picard replied. Not completely, as he had done much research, and information on all worlds was available in the media library, not just those of currently popped crew members. He crossed his arms, considering his answer.
"This vessel was constructed by a race of trans-dimensional alien entities known as the Daligig. If that's an unfamiliar term to you, don't worry. It is to all of us."
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He knew he should simply be drowning in the relief of finally having escaped the Cylons, somehow, miraculously.
But something in the grim manner of, well, everyone gathered, told him that this might be an even worse place to be.
He resolved then and there to stop griping quite so often about how things were the worst they could possibly be. A resolution he broke moments later as he cursed under his breath.
"For frak's sake, what's next?" He ran a hand through his hair, forgetting the state it was currently in. "The Daligig. No, I'm not familiar with that term. I'm afraid I don't understand exactly who the crew is, then. Are you from the Colonies?"
He already suspected the answer would be no, but he had no idea what that meant.
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"The most important thing to note is that not everyone here is from the same reality. We all come from different worlds, different interpretations. My own home is called the United Federation of Planets, and it's an interplanetary alliance of alien races. I'm from Earth.
"There are other realities, but that's the one I'm from. The Ohm go about and destroy realities. We're here to stop them. According to the Daligig, we were saved from our own realities because the Ohm have already destroyed them. Our influence on our realities, the strengths of our ... stories, for better words, is what drew them to us."
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Alternate realities. It wasn't as if the idea hadn't been thrown about in scientific circles, but it was usually more as a philosophical or theoretical exercise, and Baltar didn't know very many scientists who had continued to take it seriously after they graduated university.
It was then that something else sank in -- we were saved from our own realities because the Ohm have already destroyed them.
Gaius blinked once, hard, his head swirling at the implication, as he gawped, trying to form words. "I -- you mean... everything..."
Everything he knew. Everyone he knew. The last shreds of humanity. The entire Cylon race. Wiped out.
A memory floated through his head - Six's words to him, on Kobol. You are the guardian and protector of the new generation of God's children.
"This is madness," he said, though it was half to himself, and more wishful thinking than anything else.
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Picard knew that face. That reaction. He'd had much the same response. "I realize how you must feel. It's nigh impossible to take in.
"We're still holding out hope that the universes can be restored, and the damage undone. The Daligig we spoke with informed us that it's possible, if difficult."
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"Undone," Baltar repeated, his voice distant. But only temporarily, perhaps. Oh yes, what a wonderful idea that would be - restore the same frakked up universe I'd been loathing before I arrived here, he thought to himself, bitterly.
But did he hate it enough to wish it didn't exist whatsoever? When he, quite clearly, still did, perhaps for the purpose of saving everyone who hadn't made it?
That was a question that would take a bit more contemplation.
"In the meantime then," he asked, his voice sounding faint, even to him, "What are we... expected to do here?"
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"We are not so lucky. We have powers, heroes and legends from numerous universes, but much of the crew is fractured, unwilling to work in a military or militaristic community. I don't blame them. So we'll establish a civilian side to this crew, so that they can have balance. Then we train and prepare, and save ourselves and our homes."
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"It sounds like your knowledge and experience will come in extremely useful regarding the establishment and liaising of the civilian council system. May I have your name, sir?"
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Lie, came a tiny, urgent voice in the back of his skull. Tell him some other name, and then get lost in the crowd and just do what you have to do to get by. Don't step into these shoes again - how many times do you have to ruin humanity's chances before you finally learn that it's best to just keep your head down and...
And then there was another voice directly in his ear, clear as crystal, but edged with a silken purr: "This is what we've been waiting for, Gaius. You can't back out now."
So he couldn't outrun her, even here. Gaius' blood ran cold.
Six's hand tightened on his shoulder, and he hoped his utter shock at her appearance didn't show on his face, given that to the Captain, Gaius would seem to be simply standing there, abruptly frozen for no good reason at all. He'd had years of practice at hiding his reactions to the woman that might exist only in his mind's eye, but his surprise that she had followed him into another dimension or whatever this was reignited all his old nervous tics.
"It's your destiny, Gaius. Seize it," she urged, and as her nails dug in tighter, he spoke up, voice squawking a bit unnecessarily: "Gaius Baltar." He held out a hand with a stiff, utterly forced smile. "Glad to help in any way I can."
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That hesitation ... Gaius's response. Suddenly Picard felt himself going back into his own mind, to a part he rarely acknowledged, a voice he hid away and never listened to but in the direst of circumstances. A voice that had unwillingly led him to victory years ago.
Resistance is futile.
The realization struck him hard, almost left Picard breathless. He knew this man. They had never met, true, and they were most certainly not from the same worlds, but Picard nonetheless knew him. Knew him for what he was: a man with a secret, one that haunted him and possibly endangered his crew. His own hand reached out almost mechanically toward Baltar's, clenching it in a strong grip that was just beginning to become painful before he pulled away.
"Would you meet me here, after this meeting?" he asked, his expression calming as he mentally stepped away from the voice of the Queen, of Locutus, that would never truly leave him.
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"... Very well," he said, with a brisk nod. After all, he thought, with a small twinge of something approaching despair - what else was he going to do now?
It was obvious the Captain had others to greet, and break the grisly news to. So for the time being, Baltar slipped aside, mulling over all of this, and doing what he could to surreptitiously seek out an opening in the crowd where he might have a hushed conversation with Six without appearing insane.
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"You're broadcasting," she informed him flatly, in a tone that made it clear she expected him to stop, now. Damn, but it was a headache and a half, these people. One thing after another.
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"Thank you, Captain. I'm Clarita Locke," she says, extending a hand. "As far as the space-goo and all that goes, it's still better than the last time something like this happened to me. I can already fly again, for one thing."
"So... Being that you're the Captain and all, maybe you can tell me why there are millions and millions of... us?... locked up in pods?"
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