Drop The Pilot

by Jacob Clifton November 2, 2009
The Plan

Cavil walked away, shoulders bent in the sickly Caprica sun. "What," she asked. "Did you think I was gonna leave you here?" The friendlies crowded down behind the wall, tired and scared, but the Centurions didn't move. Sam stared, and asked why. Cavil agreed that this was a very good question.

The answer, of course, lay 33 hours earlier, give or take: Sam and Jean, doing an action on a Caprica City coffee shop, were caught under heavy fire by the Three in charge of the resettlement. She'd set Caprica and Boomer against each other's throats, with a thousand ghosts and angels on their shoulders, hoping to solve the equation as eloquently and cruelly as possible. One would be proud; she would earn a slacker leash. She raised a stone above her head, ready for her mark, and prepared to kill the father of us all. What happened instead was the birth of DEMAND LOVE. Before Three could download and tell the Cylon of the rogues' murder, Caprica and Boomer raced back for a vote. And as she brought herself back to the spitting, choking life of the resurrection tanks, she glimpsed more of the world than she ever had before. Love became her pilot, too.

Hours later into the night, the friendlies slept. One sat near Jean -- he liked her harshness, her specificity -- and stared into the night. When they had settled, when their heartbeats slowed and their breath was regulated, he rose and walked into the forest. Caprica stood there with a Centurion; another stood before them, holding guard, wary of the Ones. "Get the frak out of the way," he told it directly. It couldn't disobey.

Caprica smiled at him, with all the love in the world, and more than a little pride. "What's going on? Why the ceasefire?" She smiled, nodding at him again, and explained how they had voted. "There's going to be a truce. We just need to convey it to the humans. All of them." Cavil thought about the Fleet, about so many days on a hideous sickened planet, and then he thought of Sam. "I can deliver that message," he said, and Six looked down at him, unsure. "But your model voted against it." He promised her he'd had a new insight -- she smiled, she knew the feeling; she still couldn't quite believe any one of them would lie, and the next line soothed her brow: "Besides, there's nothing for me here." Caprica went to join her sisters; Cavil went to his people.

Day 281. Kara Thrace brought her Commander the news that the occupation was over: The Cylon had left the Colonies. They began to cheer, quietly, not wanting to jinx it; before the joy could spread, Galen spotted Cavil coming out of the Raptor and began to scream.

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