Sooo...Meet-y

[cityship]

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.

Comments

[toaster-lover.livejournal.com]

The Captain's firm grip -- too firm, really -- caused Baltar's attention to be brought quite squarely back into the present. And there was something in his eyes, and a shift in his voice that was unsettling, to say the very least.

"... 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.

[standaloneshell.livejournal.com]

Motoko's gloved hand landed on Gaius' shoulder, hard. No, boy, you won't be getting your little murmured conversation with your schizoid delusions just now. You have an annoyed cyborg to deal with.

"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.

[toaster-lover.livejournal.com]

"Ex... cuse me..." Gaius said slowly, utterly astounded by not only the angry glare that met him when he turned around, but also by exactly what she said. "I have ...no idea... what you are talking about," he said, gaining confidence and even a hint of flippancy as he continued, and shrugged his shoulder carefully away from her hand. Denial - now that at least was familiar territory for him.

[standaloneshell.livejournal.com]

"You're broadcasting high-frequency static, either from your person or something you have with you," She replied, businesslike and still much-annoyed, though significantly less baleful. Her hand was like a vice— it would be staying where it was, thank you. Military cyborgs were not to be trifled with, "I'm asking you to stop, you're interfering with radio communications."

[toaster-lover.livejournal.com]

Gaius' eyes were waffle-sized as he took in what she was telling him.

It couldn't be true. There was a room full of people, crammed together. She must be misreading something. Her disturbingly iron-tight grip on his shoulder, however, told him that this would be a bad response.

"I promise you that I'm not broadcasting anything on purpose... perhaps it's some equipment or..." But he knew there was nothing on his person, except perhaps the same equipment they'd handed to everyone else at the door, that could be doing something like this.

"I... I have no idea," he finally said, and to his supreme frustration, Six began circling around behind the woman, grinning as if this were all extremely fun.

"She's got your number, Gaius," Six said. "But if you're broadcasting something, what does that mean?"

"Nothing," he replied tartly in Six's direction, and then quickly added "...of mine was given to me when I arrived here. I only have the standard issue... whatever these are."

[standaloneshell.livejournal.com]

Motoko followed his eyes. He wasn't watching her he was looking elsewhere, little flickering signs and flecks of expression caught in hyper-realistic cyborg vision. Wonderful, leave it to her luck to find a deranged idiot who was broadcasting a mobile headache.

"No," the Major brooked no argument, "Figure it out."

the implied threat: or I will.

[toaster-lover.livejournal.com]

Baltar was torn between explaining that he didn't know how to stop doing whatever he was doing (and God, but he didn't want to think about why he was doing it), and lying, only to have her catch him later. He had a feeling the latter would result in consequences he didn't want to imagine right now.

"I'll do what I can," he stammered. It was the best oily compromise he could offer. Hopefully enough so that she would let go of him.

[standaloneshell.livejournal.com]

A curt nod, gaze sliding along the back of his neck— no jacks? So, he wasn't their kind of cyborg, at any rate. What a hassle. The Major let go and moved off without replying. There was work to be done.