She Dropped a Bomb on Me
She Dropped a Bomb on Me
Summary: Jules and Mimieux have a chat.
Date: PHD #200 (11/4/09)
Related Logs: Related Logs: None
Players:
Jules..Mimieux..

While the larger classes of the fleet might have two separate brigs, one for officers and one for enlisted, this would not be the case on the Kharon. Three cells are packed into this small room, each containing a toilet and bed. The bars provide no privacy, possibly as an incentive to the ship's crew to stay out of this room. Done in the same drab battleship gray that the rest of the ship is, there is only a single desk to occupy this room which faces the cells. Perhaps a bit oddly, this room is almost as strictly utilitarian as the Naval Offices.

Jules is for all intents and purposes completely alone and has been for some time. Currently she's in her cell, dressed in a sleeveless T and a pair of plain grey trousers. A pair of warm looking cotton socks are on her feet. No shoes. No laces. No belt. No adornments of any sort. Typical for a high risk prisoner type, honestly. She whistles while she stares at the far bulkhead.

And Aly comes in, guards nearby, wearing her full uniform - yet not carrying the clipboard and pen one might expect. For a moment, she simply watches Jules, then calls quietly, "PFC Ozymandias?"

"Present!" Jules comes to her feet and raises her hand to her brow in salute, holding herself at attention. She peers towards Aly.

The psyche offers a quietly professional smile to the PFC and dips her head. "Lieutenant Emmanuelle Mimieux," she says quietly. "I believe you and I have an appointment in a room just down the hall. The MPs will be escorting us." Aly steps to the side to allow the MPs to do their thing. The room's already been checked out and made ready, of course, and now comes the job of moving everyone to the same place.

"Roger." Jules knows the rules. She moves forward and then turns around, hands clasped behind her head. The MPs come in and secure her hands and her feet, then starts the process of shuffling over to the room down the hall. "Nice to meet you, by the way. I'm sorry it's under these circumstances, but that can hardly be helped at this point."

Nothing more is said until the pair are installed in the interrogation room. Everything has been made ready for a high-level interrogation, which means everything that can be bolted down is, and everything that might be used as a weapon is gone. Aly settles into a seat and gestures for the MPs to settle Jules into hers. "I'm afraid not," she says finally. "How are you doing, Private?" The tone is light and conversational and it might even seem like an absent question, one asked out of politeness.

"Pensive." The response is carefully considered and then spoken. Jules lifts her chin and looks Aly's way, settling into her seat across from the psych. "I regret the loss of life that I caused. I'd struggled a long time with it." And then, "Still. I killed a person. And I'm sorry for it."

The Lieutenant leans back in her chair, studying the woman across from her for a moment before she nods, once. "What led you to take the Commander's life," she asks, simply putting the question on everyone's mind out there on the table.

"Orders. I was given an assignment and I carried it out." The PFC chews her lip and lowers her eyes to the table before looking back into the lieutenant's eyes. "I'm a soldier, the same as everyone else on this ship and we're at war. I did what I was ordered to do for my people."

Aly watches Jules, though not in the way one might expect. It's almost as though there's a hint of compassion there. "And who gave you the order, Private," she asks quietly.

"It was decided upon by vote. Cylon society is democratic and the different models came to an agreement on a plan and then… they executed it." Raising an index finger, Jules says, "That isn't to say that all of us were okay with it. Especially the bombing of the Colonies. I didn't know until you all did that it was going to happen. Something must have happened."

Both of the psyche's eyebrows go up slightly at that revalation and her head tilts slightly to one side. "So," she asks after a moment, once she's found her voice again. "You are a part of Cylon society?" Ahhhh, gotta love the information gathering stage of things.

"I am Cylon," the blonde private answers. And, perhaps since she's had to explain it before, she adds, "We are the sons and daughters of humanity. Of course we would seek to be as much like you as possible."

Aly considers the woman for a moment then dips her head slightly. "I'm sure you can imagine that there are those who would have difficulty believing you're a Cylon," she says with a small smile. "The obvious question would be for me to ask how you know you are one and what proof you have, but it seems a touch…" A shoulder lifts delicately. "Obvious, I'd imagine. Tell me, though, what it's like being a Cylon?"

"The proof would be hard to produce, given the givens. We were thorough." Jules offers a slight smile and then ducks her head. "I like to imagine I have a clarity of focus that a homo sapien does not. A unity with my brethren that your race finds easy to discard when it serves them… I see, taste, smell, hear and touch. I think. I live and I can die. I imagine that's coming pretty soon. Can you believe I'm nervous? Even though I know it's coming."

The psyche nods after a moment, offering the woman a small smile. "I would imagine the proof is rather hard to produce," she says quietly. "As for death, I'm not surprised, on one hand. Most humans are afraid of death. But what do you fear the most about it?"

"I'm just jittery because it's my first time." Jules lays that one out there and let's the psyche chew on it.

"Your first time," Aly asks, head canting a bit to the side - clearly not quite picking up on what she's saying. "Dying, you mean?"

"Yes." Jules cants her own head to the side, eyeballing Aly. "We may look human, but we aren't. When we die, it isn't permanently."

Ok, the doctor in her is utterly fascinated and she leans forward slightly, arms resting on the table. "Tell me more," she asks, seeming quite intrigued.

"We die, our consciousness just downloads into another body." There's nothing but seriousness on Jules' face as she speaks. "We began as machines, after all, not animals like yourselves."

Aly is quiet for a long moment, absorbing that, before she nods. "Are there others like you aboard," she asks after a bit, letting the information filter.

"There are." Jules let's that hang in the air a moment before she adds, "You understand why I'd be reluctant to tell you who they are, right?… understand that some of us are programmed to believe we are human."

Oh, right. Sure. Progammed to believe they're human. Aly cants her head slightly to the side as she studies the woman across from her. "That is…interesting. I hadn't realized that. Were you programmed to believe you were human?"

"No. I've always known." Jules folds her hands together in front of her. "If I was you, I'd advise command not to come near the Colonies again."

Aly studies the woman across from her, expression considering. "And why is that, Private," she asks, clearly interested in the response.

"There are groups within the Cylon society that wish to see you all destroyed. I'd rather that didn't happen. If you continue to dwell near your old homes, I fear you will be consumed in the same fire that took them from you," Jules states evenly. "Run. Hide. Start over."

The psyche nods slowly after a moment, considering the woman across from her in silence. Then she leans forward even more to look at Jules' face, as if searching for something. "Jules," she says quietly. "Can you understand how this sounds to me? You telling me that you are a Cylon, one of others aboard this ship. You killed Commander Sheridan because the others took a vote and you were given an order. You know you're going to die, but your death won't be permanent."

"I understand exactly how it sounds. But here is what you need to understand," Jules states clearly, unclasping her hands and holding them out in front of her pointed towards Aly. "If you kill me, I will tell them where Kharon is as best I can and then you will have to run."

"And what's stopping you from telling them now," Aly replies, glancing only briefly at the woman's hands before she looks back to her face. "Nothing you have told me is verifiable, Jules," she says, voice gentling. "There is nothing in what you have said that has proof attached to it."

"I don't have a transmitter in my cell," Jules points out. "If you allowed me near a computer, I could show you, but that would be a risk. I can interface with computers directly… Outside of these things, only killing me and then meeting me again will give you the proof that you seek." She swallows a little tightly and adds, "I guess it's going to be the latter."

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Aly says, shaking her head slightly. "I would prefer to not have that be the case. But can you understand the predicament I am in currently? For all intents and purposes, your words are those of a mind that is delusional, and one that has broken with reality. You mentioned other Cylons aboard, those who were programmed to believe they are human. Are there those aboard who are self-aware, like yourself?"

"If there are, I wouldn't tell you," Jules admits. "I'm sorry, but I'd rather face death as an accused delusional mind than betray my people… I love you. Humans, I mean. I love you very much. I love the people of this ship very much. Even that stupid Eddie Morales. But I would not choose you over my own kind."

"Why are you here," Aly asks after a time, voice quiet. "Make me understand, Jules. Please."

"To watch over you," is the blonde's response. "To keep watch over you. I'd have been content for my mission to have stayed exactly that."

That gives Aly pause as she watches Jules, and then nods, slowly. The thoughts are clearly racing in her mind, a hint of that visible on her face. "Are there any immediate dangers to the people of this ship," she asks in a low, quiet voice.'

"If you go back to the Colonies, yes," the private says. "There will be bloodshed and death. On both sides."

"And other than that," Aly asks, studying Jules' face.

"I don't know." Jules' lips twist into a conflicted grimace and she looks away. "If there were a threat to the people of this ship… in general, not specific, I'd tell you if I knew. I don't want to hurt anyone else."

"What other things have you been involved with on the ship, following the orders of the other Cylons," Aly asks, voice gentle.

Jules makes eye contact again and shakes her head, "Nothing that puts it in immediate danger. Like I said. I was supposed to keep a watch over you."

Aly watches her for a time, then nods slowly. "I was wondering if you'd done anything in the past to endanger the crew," she murmurs. "Do you have any idea what changed? Why your orders changed?"

"Something to do with Sheridan, but I don't know what. I gave my report in when I was stranded on Scorpia and that's when I received my order to take him out." Jules spreads her hands again, almost apologetically. "It was on one of my guard rounds, they didn't question me because I came back with a map."

Poor Aly doesn't exactly have some frames of reference for things, so she just nods, once. "For what it's worth, Private," she says quietly. "I'm sorry that you've had to go through these things."

"Personally, I'd rather have sent a message over the Armistace Line, 'Parents, It's your children. We're kind of still mad at you, but we've learned a lot about ourselves in our time away. It's time to bury the hatchet. Let's get together at a Neutral location and try to learn from the mistakes of our past. 'kay?'" Jules rolls her shoulders and says, "For some reason I haven't been able to fathom; peace, love and understanding rarely seem to be cherished in either of our societies."

A small smile tilts her lips up at one corner. "You would think it would be easy to say 'we don't want to fight anymore," she says softly. "But that rarely happens. Each side is convinced the other is wrong. Until both sides can put aside the differences, those things can't happen."

"For what it's worth, I am going to -try- to convince the harder heads out there not to harm you… I can't say as they'll listen, though," the young woman's expression does, indeed, not look hopeful. Jules raises her head and asks, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Aly simply leans back against her chair for a moment, then offers a little smile. "I wish there were, Jules," she says quietly. "As you need to keep your people safe, I need to kee…" The woman just pauses, then shakes her head. "No, thank you. I'll have the MPs see you back."

"Can you…" Jules leans forward a little, but keeps her hands down by her chest. "I know this may seem silly, but I had rescued a cat off of Charybdis Station… He can't come with me, where I'm going. Could you. Would you take care of him? Or find someone who will? He's in the Cargo Bay, behind some crates in the food storage section. There's blankets, that's his bed. His name is Oscar."

The psyche blinks at Jules for a long moment, then dips her head, standing. "I'll make sure he's taken care of," Aly murmurs quietly. If the woman's shaken, she's doing decently at not letting it show. But no one's perfect.

"He's probably wondering where I've gone," Jules says in a soft, worried voice. Shaking her head, she lifts her hands and puts them onto the table, ready to assume the position once the MPs are ready to escort her back to her cell. "Thank you."

Aly stands and steps to the side, waiting for the MPs. She seems oddly lost in thought for now, watching Jules.

For her part, Jules is silent when the MPs come. She's secured for transport again and trundles off out the door. "It's okay. Just do what you have to." Off out the door she goes and she adds, "You'll see me again, one way or another."

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