PHD #365: Cylons are (not) People too
Cylons are (not) People too
Summary: Bubbles has strong opinions, oh yes she does.
Date: 26 Feb 2042 AE
Related Logs: Gone, but Not Forgotten directly precedes this log
Psyche Devlin Malone McQueen Wade Cidra Sawyer 
Hangar Deck - Starboard
This Hangar Bay is filled with boxes, crates and other various supplies that are needed throughout the ship. Most have been moved to one end and lashed with tarps to keep them out of the way. The place has gone from extra ship storage on one end and the ability to house over 450 people on the other end. At the moment, however, the room is bare of people save those going about their duties. Most of the space here is given over to housing a large, rather strange-looking transport vessel. Marines guard this area 24/7.
Post-Holocaust Day: #365

As folks begin to disperse, Psyche looks across the hangar at Wade, eyes re-kindling with sparks and venom as she watches the other pilot canoodle with the Evocati. Not that that's what's eating her… as becomes apparent a moment later. She gives Devlin's hand a squeeze and leaves his size, striding over to stand in Wade's periphery, arms folded. "Drips," she snaps his name. The tone says, Your attention, please, motherfrakker.

After talking with AWOL for a little bit, Wade smiles to her and then takes a deep breath. Now, the Viper Pilot looks at the exit, seeing how many people is leaving at the moment. He considers that it's his turn to leave as well so, after nodding a couple times to a few falks, he starts making his way towards the exit. His expression looks…troubled. When he hears his callsign being called in that way, he stops and turns his attention to Psyche "Bubbles…" says the man, looking at her as she approaches. He doesn't move now.

Cidra lingers as the crowd disperses, talking quietly with Captain Aron "Broadside" Matise. This whole thing has gotten to him, it's clear, though he tries to remain stoic about it. Well, it's gotten to the CAG, too.

Malone finally reaches up to wipe the tears out of his eyes, blinking a few times as he glances between the others present. Pausing as he sees the exchange between Psyche and Wade, he studies them carefully for a few moments now.

Psyche just looks at Wade a moment, waiting — as though what she wants should be obvious. "You wanna frakking explain yourself?" she asks, finally.

Devlin is caught off-guard by Psyche suddenly walking away, and when she heads over and calls out Wade, he sighs, and rolls his eyes to the ceiling. His head is shaken a couple times, and then he strides over. "Could we maybe not do this?" he suggests, brows lifted, "Right after the CAG just gave a speech about how we're all united and flying and dying together and everything?"

Wade looks around for a brief moment before returning his full attention to Psyche. Before she even says anything, he already knows what this is going to be about…given her reaction before. "Well…" starts the man ever so calm. He clears his throat and says to her "To be honest with you, Bubbles. I didn't know Salt…I know he was an abomination, and part of an enemy group that frakked with all of us" He nods to that and takes a deep breath "What I do know…well…what I heard actually is that, some pilots…some people hold…" Pause as he thinks how to phrase "The name…with respect. Why? Because apparently he saved their asses during Warday. Now, I don't know if he did that because he was a defective model or not…I don't know if it was some part of an evil plan, I don't know if it was part of…/something/" He looks at Decoy as he approaches and nods to him "But I do know this, I know that some folks do want to remember his name….are you going to take that away from them? It is the name, they hold in value…you heard them, when the discussion took place."

Malone sighs as he sees the little discussion happening, and starts heading over in that general direction now, moving a bit slowly at the moment.

About this time, McQueen can count himself as another one beginning to peel off from the crowd, fiddling with the collar of his uniform a little. Doesn't really look like he's used to the five-star vestements. Not like he makes a habit of wearing them, anyway. Excusing himself, he bounds away from the crowd and strolls by (unfortunately) the exchange between Psyche and Wade. "Bubbs." He cuts in. "It wasn't like he was naming the whole frakkin' model line. Just one screwed-up arsehole that probably figured he could probably try to do one last good thing before he got shuffled off to go be rebuilt as a tractor on the arse end of Aerilon or something."

Sawyer packs up her equipment, shooting one last look to the little kerscuffle. But some things aren't news, some things are private. With that, she's filtering into the crowd of others leaving the hangar.

Alas, the more reasonable Devlin's reasonableness has no effect on the less reasonable one — she, Psyche the Less Reasonable, has eyes only for Wade — and those eyes are full of contempt. "No. You don't know it was an abomination. You SAY you know, but you don't Because if you did, you wouldn't call it a him. You wouldn't speak that fictional name in the same breath as human beings, sullying their sacrifice by implying they're somehow equal. You SPAT on the humans who sacrificed actually lives in this war. Who have actual souls. And you should be frakking ASHAMED of yourself, Drips. Frakking deeply, deeply ashamed for pandering to the frakking bottom feeders who want to pretend that the thing calling itself 'Salt' was a person. They're delusional, they're sick, and you're a spineless piece of shit for coddling their idiocy."

Bubbles rounds on Queenie, eyes flashing with anger and a sheen of equally angry tears. "NO, Queenie. Just… NO. FRAK that. Cylons don't DO good things. They don't have feelings. They have programming. And so Salt was programmed to sacrifice itself on Warday. You know what that is? It's a big psych out. If they manage to convince us they're just like us but have to be plugged in overnight, it's that much harder to shoot them out of the sky, isn't it? It's a frakking sham."

Malone sighs a bit as he listens to what's being said now. "Just leave it," he offers, with a bit of a growl. "It's happened, no matter what people think about it, and that's that." A brief sigh and a shake of his head, "Let's not ruin whatever little peace and quiet we have by doing the Cylons' work for them. PLEASE."

Devlin is utterly ignored by all parties, and pretty obviously gives up, throwing his hands in the air and shaking his head as he steps back. Arms are crossed over his chest and he sort of nominally watches his wife verbally ream Wade out. He doesn't seem to at all approve of the conversation taking place, though which side of it he agrees with is harder to tell. When Malone speaks up, he gestures to the other pilot, nodding, "Yeah, THAT. Thanks, Splash. Will you two listen to him, please?"

The woman's speech about sacrifice and souls is calmly and quietly digested. "I've got nothing for the bits about the soul. But listen to yourself here. Was he sent to subvert human minds or just destroy us? While we're on the subject, he could have faked damage, aborted flight, and detonated warheads in the hangar bay, crippling the ship from the inside. If /I/ were a Cylon saboteur I would've just done that. Which'd make him the shitest saboteur ever." McQueen, in contrast with Bubbles' rage, is placid, even warm. He merely stands there, arms crossed. "Unless the hand of the Gods just intervened. They tend to do that, you know. But that's the thing. We'll never, never, /ever/ know. So rather than debate on whether or not Ryan Shaker was acting out of good will, let's just thank our bloody stars it was /him/ attached to this squadron rather than that murderous prune-faced bitch they picked up on Tauron who was sittin' in the brig for weeks."

"It…" says Wade now "You are right, you are very right…Bubbles. I shouldn't have called it like that and to be honest with you, it was unintentional. You can believe that or not…" adds the man right afterwards. His voice remains calm and collected. "And no Bubbles…I did not SPAT on the lives of those humans that died…If I did not mention them, then I would agree with your words. And believe it or not, a lot of those humans are of big importance to me" He clears his throat and moves his attention from Decoy, to McQueen, to Malone… "And those bottom feeders you speak of, are other humans that for their own reasons decided to hold that name with respect" He takes a deep breath and nods to McQueen now, before he addresses Bubbles again "Perhaps they are sick, perhaps they are dilusional, I don't know, I'm not authority in the subject…but they chose to remember the name of that who flew with them just like I remember the names of those who took my wing, and protected me, while I protected them"

Psyche flicks a glance at Queenie, taking a long, deep breath, nostrils flaring. "Cylons play their game in the long term, Queenie. As long as there are replacement parts and new bodies to upload themselves into, they can afford to. How long were the skinjobs we know of entrenched among us? What you or I would do as saboteurs, what any human being would do with our limited scope, is irrelevant." And her gaze returns to Wade, flat. "Cylon apologists are frakking bottom feeders," she reasserts. "Are they still human? Yes. Would I still die for them? Yes. Does that make them any less reprehensible? No. We do NOT honor cylons like they're human. We do not honor them AT ALL. We kill them. With extreme prejudice. And if you hold any opinion to the contrary, Drips, do not speak to me. Ever. Unless you're on my wing." With that, it appears she's said all the has to say, and turns to go.

Malone shakes his head a bit as he listens, nodding a bit at McQueen's words. "Just…" he begins, before he shakes his head a little. "Nevermind."

"Well, then. I suppose that's a question. Who knows /if/ they think like we do? I know if I had immortality at my fingertips I'd probably do something other than blow everything to shite, sending it to the Next World." McQueen muses. "From where I'm standing, I suppose /none/ of it makes sense. Oh, frak it. Think it's time for a nap." And with that he turns on his foot, with a heavy sigh.

"Bubbles…" calls Wade out after she turns, after all, he does have something to say. "Know this…" says the man and presses his lips hard for a moment, taking a deep breath and finally speaking "I watched my family die in front of my eyes, down in Leonis. I watched them die, everything thanks to the frakking Cylons. My mother and father died right there…I had to drag my wounded brother and he died short after…" His lips trembles and his neck tightens "Don't you think….even for a moment, that I'm not against everything that those things are….don't you think that." He takes a deep breath and looks at her straight in the eyes. However, his look is far from aggressive.

Psyche hesitates as Wade calls after her, half turning, listening. Her expression softens just an iota… not much. But enough. "Think about that next time you get up in front of people and want to pander to the lunatic fringe," she suggests. It's almost gentle. Almost.

Devlin rakes a hand through his hair, making a mess of the careful combing job he did before the memorial. When Psyche turns to leave he takes a half-step that way too, lingering only to nod at Malone and McQueen before turning to catch up with his wife and exit with her.

As he meanders off, McQueen starts whistling off-key for a few moments before he launches into his own little self-directed tirade. "I know what I'd do. Yeh. Build a machine that could bake an infinite amount of the most delicious cake in the world. Spike it with rum. Eat it. Start doing high-G turns in a small craft until I horked. Do it all over again. Maybe smash it into a wall a few times just for the experience.

Maybe I'd start hoarding cats on one of those Baseships. Yeah. Give 'em little flight suits and take 'em for zero-g walks…Long game, ha. Cylons are a bunch of twats." He continues to mutter as he makes his way onto the staircase and out of sight.

Malone just shakes his head as he listens for now, watching people head off. Muttering something under his breath, for the moment.

"I did…" that's the only thing that Wade says and it does seem that it took him quite a bit of thinking, wether he should do it or not. But then again, said bottom feeders, or whatever Bubbles wish to call them, are people from this wing, Pilots and ECOs. Their numbers might not be great, but there are a few… Now, he looks at McQueen and nods "That they are Queenie…twats" And then he leaves.

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