Challenge #1: Prompt #9
Title: Prompt #9
Author: brokenmnemonic
Rating: PG
Genre: Behind the scenes
Character/Pairing: Six, Simon, Leoben by implication, Kara by implication
Warnings: Nothing major
Spoilers: Nothing major
Prompt:Six, Simon, some more behind-the-scenes of The Farm
Summary:
Perhaps you'll have more success with the latest subjects." Her manner was as coldly perfect as usual; the model calling itself Simon was happy to indulge the sense of pride that went with seeing something he'd worked on performing so well. They might have saved the full range of emotions for later models, but he and his brothers had done good work, expanding on the development of Three to produce Six, the bias towards height and strength complimented rather than overshadowed by that sense of determination.
Six was a good example of what half a decade of dedicated work could produce. Perhaps they should be thinking along similar lines for the current project? After all, perfecting the genetic modifications to produce a full range of emotion in Eight had taken several years, even with a thousand iterations going through development simultaneously. "The results we're getting would seem to indicate that dealing with the radiation damage on a long-term basis is more difficult than originally anticipated; bringing in more from the survivor groups that have managed to avoid such damage should make it easier to work."
Six smiled at him, a thin smile that made her look menacing, predatory. Very satisfactory. Her hand reached out to trail along the rack of clipboards that held the patient charts for the first three wards, fingers drifting over the surface. Her model seemed to be very focussed on that sort of mannerism; he'd heard that touch made them feel closer to whatever it was they were experiencing, but that seemed illogical to him. Still, it was a very human trait, and her model had been intended to spend more time inserted into Colonial society than any other. She turned back to face him, black material shifting as she folded her arms in front of her. "Your suggestions were entirely valid; we have eradicated the groups that were in place near the major impact sites. Enough samples have been harvested for you to work with for the next few years, if the frozen tissue stays viable."
"Things would go faster if the Eights didn't keep insisting on treating this as some exercise in amateur psychology. Viable subjects are being lost to their efforts." He couldn't help the faint touch of acrimony out of his voice; the clear sense of purpose and unity that had made the latest step in their evolution possible was fracturing under divided interests now that the immediate objective had been achieved. Some models were even talking of taking these worlds over permanently, forming settlements like the humans had done.
"Why, Simon..." Her smile seemed more genuine this time, but no less predatory. Leaning back against the counter that had served as a dispensary once, she was making full use of her height; it was easy to see why that had been such a useful trait for the Sixes, making it easier for them to unsettle humans. "You almost sound as if you don't believe that the Eight's agenda could succeed, that emotions might hold the key..."
That was something he could exist without. If it hadn't proven such a useful trait when infiltrating the human ranks, he and his brothers would doubtless consider that aura of superiority generated by the Sixes as a flaw. Carried over from the genetic material imported from Three and the older models, no doubt; he and his brothers had been constructed for intelligence and diligence, and that purity of purpose felt cleaner than having to argue with the more emotional models. "As much as both you and the Eights keep citing human emotions like love as being essential to procreation, you cannot deny the evidence shown by research; what you call love is simply another neurochemical reaction within the human brain, one that shows all the hallmarks of an affliction almost identical to various other mental defects humans are prone to."
The expression that flickered across this particular Six's pattern-perfect face wasn't a million miles from hatred; something else that had been carefully cultivated in that line. That didn't make it any less unsettling to see, of course... which made him wonder how it was that his model could be prone to such things. After all, Cylons did not harm other Cylons. "I would have thought that the lack of results produced by your model since we began the Farm project would leave all of you more receptive to alternative ideas. Leoben and the others agree that you should be exploring more possible lines of research... and unless you're intending to go and gather more specimens in the field yourself, it might be prudent to consider them."
"Have you noticed that you refer to them as 'Leoben', not by designation?" That was something that had niggled at him for a while; it implied individuality beginning to assert itself over mutual accord. It was true of some of the others, of course... but it seemed more annoying coming from the newer models than it did the older ones. He didn't give her a chance to follow her point up, of course; that would be allowing irrationality and emotion to override experimental protocol. "We continue to support the field trials being conducted by Eight and the other models, so long as they do not consume too high a level of consumable resources; as for the ideas espoused by Leoben, his fascination with certain aspects of human psychology..."
"Does Leoben know you have one of his pet projects in this very building? Or that you're using some of his methods to make her more receptive? I'm sure that he'd be flattered by the interest you're taking..." Her gaze seemed unusually bright, focussed on him unerringly. Without looking, she reached out to lift one of the clipboards free, and when his eyes flitted to the clipboard and back, it was to find a faintly victorious expression on her face.
He reached out and took the clipboard from her, refusing to acknowledge her comment. "Progress will come through the research done here and elsewhere, not from some obscure human prophecy." He carefully marked another name off against the list, the one his brother had indicated was failing fast despite the new cocktail of drugs being tested. "We shouldn't be worrying about such things; as machines, we will all be here forever. What can a few humans do?"
Six moved past him, looking out into the corridor visible through the open frame of the booth at the corridor that stretched away to left and right, muted colours aged and spotted. Very... human. He returned the clipboard to its rack, restoring a sense of neatness to the desk that appealed to him on an instinctive level. "So how is Lieutenant Thrace?" Her voice was deceptively mild; he knew full well that Thrace had killed at least three Sixes since planetfall, as well as a scattering of other models.
"She's responding better than the other subject recovered at the same time; that one recognised me as a Cylon, and was loaded directly into the programme. As for Thrace..." He deliberately drew the words out, taking a certain satisfaction in the way Six had to turn to look at him again. "Pending lab tests on the sample ovary, complete removal will proceed tomorrow. If lab tests are positive, then the subject will be moved to the processing facility for final disposition."
"Is that regret I hear in your voice, Simon?" She asked archly; perhaps she was trying to find some nerve to strike, in response to his making her wait. A far cry indeed from the unity of their first days.
He watched her walk slowly around the booth again, marking the area as carefully as if she were running the facility. "If it is, it is certainly no concern of yours." The Sixes might be useful at gathering samples, but she was beginning to annoy him. It wasn't her place to question his research; her model was designed for infiltration and security, not research. "Perhaps you should be more concerned about..." He wanted to suggest wiping out the human group they'd obtained Thrace and the other sample from, but for some reason, he couldn't form the words. Perhaps he was more unsettled by having a contingent of Sixes here than he had thought. "Concerned about extracting more specimens to work with, rather than worrying about what's going to be done with them when they're obtained."
If she noticed his slip, she gave no sign of it. "Perhaps destiny will intervene, and snatch Lieutenant Thrace away..." When he looked up at her, she was staring back over her shoulder, smirking at him. She held his gaze for a few minutes as if taunting him; he simply returned her stare evenly until she gave the faintest possible shrug and strode back out into heavy yellow sunlight, the sounds of her metallic consorts stirring into motion accompanying her as she left.
Simon snorted despite himself, leaving her to walk out unanswered. Destiny had no place here.
Author: brokenmnemonic
Rating: PG
Genre: Behind the scenes
Character/Pairing: Six, Simon, Leoben by implication, Kara by implication
Warnings: Nothing major
Spoilers: Nothing major
Prompt:Six, Simon, some more behind-the-scenes of The Farm
Summary:
Perhaps you'll have more success with the latest subjects." Her manner was as coldly perfect as usual; the model calling itself Simon was happy to indulge the sense of pride that went with seeing something he'd worked on performing so well. They might have saved the full range of emotions for later models, but he and his brothers had done good work, expanding on the development of Three to produce Six, the bias towards height and strength complimented rather than overshadowed by that sense of determination.
Six was a good example of what half a decade of dedicated work could produce. Perhaps they should be thinking along similar lines for the current project? After all, perfecting the genetic modifications to produce a full range of emotion in Eight had taken several years, even with a thousand iterations going through development simultaneously. "The results we're getting would seem to indicate that dealing with the radiation damage on a long-term basis is more difficult than originally anticipated; bringing in more from the survivor groups that have managed to avoid such damage should make it easier to work."
Six smiled at him, a thin smile that made her look menacing, predatory. Very satisfactory. Her hand reached out to trail along the rack of clipboards that held the patient charts for the first three wards, fingers drifting over the surface. Her model seemed to be very focussed on that sort of mannerism; he'd heard that touch made them feel closer to whatever it was they were experiencing, but that seemed illogical to him. Still, it was a very human trait, and her model had been intended to spend more time inserted into Colonial society than any other. She turned back to face him, black material shifting as she folded her arms in front of her. "Your suggestions were entirely valid; we have eradicated the groups that were in place near the major impact sites. Enough samples have been harvested for you to work with for the next few years, if the frozen tissue stays viable."
"Things would go faster if the Eights didn't keep insisting on treating this as some exercise in amateur psychology. Viable subjects are being lost to their efforts." He couldn't help the faint touch of acrimony out of his voice; the clear sense of purpose and unity that had made the latest step in their evolution possible was fracturing under divided interests now that the immediate objective had been achieved. Some models were even talking of taking these worlds over permanently, forming settlements like the humans had done.
"Why, Simon..." Her smile seemed more genuine this time, but no less predatory. Leaning back against the counter that had served as a dispensary once, she was making full use of her height; it was easy to see why that had been such a useful trait for the Sixes, making it easier for them to unsettle humans. "You almost sound as if you don't believe that the Eight's agenda could succeed, that emotions might hold the key..."
That was something he could exist without. If it hadn't proven such a useful trait when infiltrating the human ranks, he and his brothers would doubtless consider that aura of superiority generated by the Sixes as a flaw. Carried over from the genetic material imported from Three and the older models, no doubt; he and his brothers had been constructed for intelligence and diligence, and that purity of purpose felt cleaner than having to argue with the more emotional models. "As much as both you and the Eights keep citing human emotions like love as being essential to procreation, you cannot deny the evidence shown by research; what you call love is simply another neurochemical reaction within the human brain, one that shows all the hallmarks of an affliction almost identical to various other mental defects humans are prone to."
The expression that flickered across this particular Six's pattern-perfect face wasn't a million miles from hatred; something else that had been carefully cultivated in that line. That didn't make it any less unsettling to see, of course... which made him wonder how it was that his model could be prone to such things. After all, Cylons did not harm other Cylons. "I would have thought that the lack of results produced by your model since we began the Farm project would leave all of you more receptive to alternative ideas. Leoben and the others agree that you should be exploring more possible lines of research... and unless you're intending to go and gather more specimens in the field yourself, it might be prudent to consider them."
"Have you noticed that you refer to them as 'Leoben', not by designation?" That was something that had niggled at him for a while; it implied individuality beginning to assert itself over mutual accord. It was true of some of the others, of course... but it seemed more annoying coming from the newer models than it did the older ones. He didn't give her a chance to follow her point up, of course; that would be allowing irrationality and emotion to override experimental protocol. "We continue to support the field trials being conducted by Eight and the other models, so long as they do not consume too high a level of consumable resources; as for the ideas espoused by Leoben, his fascination with certain aspects of human psychology..."
"Does Leoben know you have one of his pet projects in this very building? Or that you're using some of his methods to make her more receptive? I'm sure that he'd be flattered by the interest you're taking..." Her gaze seemed unusually bright, focussed on him unerringly. Without looking, she reached out to lift one of the clipboards free, and when his eyes flitted to the clipboard and back, it was to find a faintly victorious expression on her face.
He reached out and took the clipboard from her, refusing to acknowledge her comment. "Progress will come through the research done here and elsewhere, not from some obscure human prophecy." He carefully marked another name off against the list, the one his brother had indicated was failing fast despite the new cocktail of drugs being tested. "We shouldn't be worrying about such things; as machines, we will all be here forever. What can a few humans do?"
Six moved past him, looking out into the corridor visible through the open frame of the booth at the corridor that stretched away to left and right, muted colours aged and spotted. Very... human. He returned the clipboard to its rack, restoring a sense of neatness to the desk that appealed to him on an instinctive level. "So how is Lieutenant Thrace?" Her voice was deceptively mild; he knew full well that Thrace had killed at least three Sixes since planetfall, as well as a scattering of other models.
"She's responding better than the other subject recovered at the same time; that one recognised me as a Cylon, and was loaded directly into the programme. As for Thrace..." He deliberately drew the words out, taking a certain satisfaction in the way Six had to turn to look at him again. "Pending lab tests on the sample ovary, complete removal will proceed tomorrow. If lab tests are positive, then the subject will be moved to the processing facility for final disposition."
"Is that regret I hear in your voice, Simon?" She asked archly; perhaps she was trying to find some nerve to strike, in response to his making her wait. A far cry indeed from the unity of their first days.
He watched her walk slowly around the booth again, marking the area as carefully as if she were running the facility. "If it is, it is certainly no concern of yours." The Sixes might be useful at gathering samples, but she was beginning to annoy him. It wasn't her place to question his research; her model was designed for infiltration and security, not research. "Perhaps you should be more concerned about..." He wanted to suggest wiping out the human group they'd obtained Thrace and the other sample from, but for some reason, he couldn't form the words. Perhaps he was more unsettled by having a contingent of Sixes here than he had thought. "Concerned about extracting more specimens to work with, rather than worrying about what's going to be done with them when they're obtained."
If she noticed his slip, she gave no sign of it. "Perhaps destiny will intervene, and snatch Lieutenant Thrace away..." When he looked up at her, she was staring back over her shoulder, smirking at him. She held his gaze for a few minutes as if taunting him; he simply returned her stare evenly until she gave the faintest possible shrug and strode back out into heavy yellow sunlight, the sounds of her metallic consorts stirring into motion accompanying her as she left.
Simon snorted despite himself, leaving her to walk out unanswered. Destiny had no place here.