||Pod Release Protocols Initiating,|| Stacy announced to the denizens of the upper levels. Down the the Pod Caverns, familiar sounds made themselves known
( Read more... )
Today was officially the worst day of Saul Tigh's life.
He burst through the slime, gasping for air, and he just _knew_ that this was the proof that he was a Cylon, not a real human.
He'd been resurrected.
Looking around, he didn't see any skinjobs on hand to take him out of the goo. But maybe as one of the Final Five they wanted to give him some frakkin' privacy.
Didn't even leave him his eyepatch. Of course, he'd taken it off before racking out - or so he thought. He'd had some ambrosia before bed and his memory wasn't what it used to be.
Looking around, he gingerly climbed out of the body-temperature goo, wiping himself off as best he could.
"All right, you bastards. Which Basestar is this?" he asked. Didn't look like the ones he'd seen and been aboard, but maybe they were all different.
Saul looked around, trying to see who it was who was talking to him.
Great. More voices in his head.
"This isn't fracking funny." he said to whoever it was who was listening. "I find out who's behind this they're gonna be shovelling tylium ore or on permanent sanitation duty until the end of time." he growled.
THAT got Saul's attention. He had a rule about accepting sedatives that didn't come out of a bottle or from Doc Cottle.
"What the frack is going on here? Am I dead? Did I resurrect?" he asked, scurrying out of the goo and trying to put some distance between himself and the tentacle with the needle.
||Information classified. Information classified. Information classified.||
The tentacle kept its needle oriented on him. ||Your heart rate and tone of voice indicate that you are distressed. I repeat: would you care for a sedative?||
Oh dear. The voice wasn't being very helpful, now was it?
Probably a Cylon trick. He lets that needle puncture him and the next thing he knows he's permanently stuck in a bucket of goo and driving Basestars while babbling about nothing at all.
"Stay away from me. I want a Raptor, fueled and ready to go in ten minutes." he said. "I'm heading back to Galactica."
"What the frak are you talking about?" he said, looking for something to cover himself with.
Unfortunately, the goop was too runny and there wasn't anything else here that would serve. He was going to KILL whoever thought this one up.
He did have to admit, though, they'd gone through a lot of trouble. Wonder if this was one of the storage chambers on the starboard flight pod? They'd done a marvelous job of dressing it up to look really disturbing. The tentacle was a nice touch.
"Is that so? Got any Vipers, or are you fresh outta snakes?" he asked with a grin. "You really want to meet my needs, you'll give me a flight suit, a pack of smokes, and a gallon of ambrosia." he smirked.
May as well play along, see what he could get out of this prank.
The little trail ended up being not so little, twisting and winding through caverns lined with pods much like the one he'd emerged from, filled with bodies whose vague shadows and outlines were barely visible.
At the end of the trail there was a cylindrical room with vines hanging from the ceiling, and the voice spoke again. ||Please move into the center of the room.||
He burst through the slime, gasping for air, and he just _knew_ that this was the proof that he was a Cylon, not a real human.
He'd been resurrected.
Looking around, he didn't see any skinjobs on hand to take him out of the goo. But maybe as one of the Final Five they wanted to give him some frakkin' privacy.
Didn't even leave him his eyepatch. Of course, he'd taken it off before racking out - or so he thought. He'd had some ambrosia before bed and his memory wasn't what it used to be.
Looking around, he gingerly climbed out of the body-temperature goo, wiping himself off as best he could.
"All right, you bastards. Which Basestar is this?" he asked. Didn't look like the ones he'd seen and been aboard, but maybe they were all different.
Reply
Reply
Great. More voices in his head.
"This isn't fracking funny." he said to whoever it was who was listening. "I find out who's behind this they're gonna be shovelling tylium ore or on permanent sanitation duty until the end of time." he growled.
Reply
||You appear distressed,|| the voice informed him helpfully, ||would you care for a sedative?||
Reply
"What the frack is going on here? Am I dead? Did I resurrect?" he asked, scurrying out of the goo and trying to put some distance between himself and the tentacle with the needle.
"ANSWER ME!" he shouted.
Reply
The tentacle kept its needle oriented on him. ||Your heart rate and tone of voice indicate that you are distressed. I repeat: would you care for a sedative?||
Oh dear. The voice wasn't being very helpful, now was it?
Reply
"Stay away from me. I want a Raptor, fueled and ready to go in ten minutes." he said. "I'm heading back to Galactica."
Reply
||There are no birds currently listed on the active crew roster. Your request is denied.||
Reply
Unfortunately, the goop was too runny and there wasn't anything else here that would serve. He was going to KILL whoever thought this one up.
He did have to admit, though, they'd gone through a lot of trouble. Wonder if this was one of the storage chambers on the starboard flight pod? They'd done a marvelous job of dressing it up to look really disturbing. The tentacle was a nice touch.
Probably Starbuck's idea.
No birds, indeed.
Reply
Reply
May as well play along, see what he could get out of this prank.
Reply
||Personal possessions are located in the Weapons and Possessions Lockers.||
Reply
He was thinking they'd have the command staff or maybe just the department heads at the end of this little trail, ready to embarrass the hardass XO.
Reply
At the end of the trail there was a cylindrical room with vines hanging from the ceiling, and the voice spoke again. ||Please move into the center of the room.||
Reply
Leave a comment