You Raise Me Up
You Raise Me Up
Summary: Jules and Mimieux have another talk
Date: PHD #206 (11/10/09)
Related Logs: Related Logs: She Dropped a Bomb on Me
Players:
Jules..Mimieux..

[ Brig - Deck 2 ]---------[ CEC Kharon ]—

IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #206 OOC Time: Tue Nov 10 16:48:25 2009


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.

It's a quiet evening when, perhaps unexpectedly, Jules has a visitor. Aly slips in, with her guard, of course, and her ever-present file folder in one arm.

Evening it might be, but it seems Jules isn't sleeping. The dark circles under her eyes give her a haunted, hungry sort of look. She lifts her chin when her visitor enters, a gentle smile on her face. "It's good to see you again."

Aly offers Jules a small smile. "Evening, Private," she says quietly. "Thought you might be up for a bit of a walk and chat in our favorite room." Her head tilts to the side, and it's clear she's leaving it up to Jules.

"A change of scenery would be a beautiful thing." The blonde rises to her feet and assumes the position, putting her back to the door and interlocking her hands behind her head so she can be secured. Once this is so, she waddles out of the cell for the walk to the room in question. "Were you able to find Oscar?"

"I was," Aly says quietly, going where the MPs motion for her to go. "He was a little thinner than he had been, but some of the civilians had taken over feeding him. I left him in good hands, and will check on him again soon," she says, making idle conversation as they go. They head to the interrogation room, though Aly seems to be going a little slower than usual, her pace slightly off.

"I appreciate that very much. God bless you." Singular form there. Jules turns into the room and moves to her seat, pulling it out and settling herself down. Brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, she says, "Any word on when they'll be killing me?"

Aly settles in once Jules does and shakes her head slightly. "I'm afraid not," she replies, sitting primly in the seat. The singular form was noticed, though went unremarked upon. "I think you've been given a bit of a reprieve for now, until we can find out who your handler is." Well, at least she's honest.

"Handler huh? Good luck with that." Jules just shakes her head and leans forward on her elbows. "The hardest part is really the waiting. The anxiety is keeping me up at night now." She purses her lips and says, "One day, we're going to look back on all this and just smile."

The Lieutenant offers her a faint little smile at that and shakes her head. "I'm not so sure I will," she says quietly. "There's…too much that's gone on for me to feel comfortable smiling about it." The folder is pushed to the side. "So, I thought you and I could get together again and talk a bit. You are…a bit of a conundrum to me." Just a hint of smile there.

"Well, I'm glad someone on this ship doesn't outright just think I'm a crazy CO-blowing up terrorist." Jules' smile sobers and she ducks her head a little, weariness entering her expression. "If there is anything I can do to resolve the division by zero that is plaguing your mind, Lieutenant, please do speak up."

Aly's quiet for a bit, simply watching the other woman. "Rather than get into what we both know will be an argument," the psyche begins quietly. "Would you be willing to tell me something about your people? I'm not asking for state secrets - just to understand."

The psyche's request brings Jules' smile back and she lifts her head, interested. "I'd be happy to answer whatever questions you have about us."

Her smile turns just a touch crooked. "I honestly don't know where to start, Private," she admits, leaning back in her chair. "I suppose asking you to tell me of your childhood would seem to be a rather…hm. Well, I dare say it would be a cliche'. How about this - if you were educating human children, what would you tell them about the Cylon race?"

"We…" The brows of the Marine come together and she's silent for a few seconds in consideration. Finally, she says, "God created Man. Man created the Cylon. And the Cylon has endeavoured to become more like Man, just as Man has endeavoured to become more like it's creator. Unfortunately for all of us, Man is flawed and so too is the Cylon." She lifts her chin and notes, "We aren't perfect. I'd never claim that. But we are trying. We can create, too. Art, science… life. If you could only see what we've been able to do in such a short amount of time."

The psyche settles in to listen with an intent, attentive expression on her face. "Tell me more," she asks quietly. Yes, it's a request - not a demand.

"We believe in one God. One being who looks over all of creation. Over Man and over Man's creation." The blonde's eyes light up as she speaks and she wears a peaceful sort of smile as the words pour on out of her. "There's no marriage amongst the Cylons, but we form bonds. Adult ones." Her smile turns sad and she adds, "We can't bear children. We're physically almost identical, but we… we haven't been able to bear children. Not for lack of trying."

Aly nods slowly as she absorbs that - and clearly it's a lot to absorb. The one God aspect seems to coast by, but the lack of children, well. That catches her. She continues to study the young woman, however - consideringly. "You mentioned the other day that, when you die, you don't really die - your memories are simply downloaded. How does that work with those you've formed friendships and bonds with?"

"We continue the bonds. They come and they go… We remain friends. United because of what we are." Jules lifts her head and says, "Death isn't permanent with us. It is a fluid thing. Birth and rebirth. I don't… I don't think it's horribly different from being human, actually. When you die, your soul doesn't die. It goes someplace else. For Cylons, that place just happens to be very specific." Brushing a hand over her eyes, she adds, "One thing we don't understand about humans is their capacity for self-destruction."

"Our capacity for self-destruction in what manner," Aly asks, seemingly making notes mentally as the other woman talks. Jules' words can be tracked in the psyche's expression. As much as she's trying to remain professional and detached, there's an obvious curiosity there.

"You are constantly trying to destroy yourselves. You kill each other over nothing. You research new and better ways to slaughter your brothers and sisters because they're different from you, because they don't think the way you think they should or because they won't do what you say. You create Cylons, another weapon, and it nearly destroys you. And yet, rather than turn from path to Hell, you build your fleet up, rather than down." Jules stares Aly in the eyes, unflinching and says with a finger tapping the table top to punctuate her words, "You did this to yourself." She let's that hang in the air a few moments and then adds, "And then you wonder why. Why do all these horrible things happen? Why why why why why."

[Intercom] Praxis says, "Attention all hands, this is the XO. Due to a shortage in munitions aboard this carrier, we are currently making preparations to get underway to Ragnar Anchorage where we will be making an emergency resupply run. Due to the nature of the EM field surrounding the atmosphere of Ragnar and other conditions, we will be most likely experiencing unsettling jarring and turbulence upon FTL egress, as well as potential system disruption. Secure yourself. Regular jump countdown will be broadcasted as per normal. That is all."

Aly's quiet for a time, head canting ever so slightly to one side. "And what of the Cylons," she asks after a moment. "While yes, Cylons were an invention of man, what happens when humans are gone, when Cylons have succeeded in exterminating the human race? Will there be more cylons, or merely the ones who are left, with new models built to replace the ones dead?"

"I don't know about you, but I'd rather not live in a universe without man in it… I was always of the opinion that when the dust settled, maybe we could forgive one another and learn to be better. You know, the sum of being greater than it's two parts." Jules brings the index finger of her left hand to the index finger of her right hand and curls them together. "I used to talk with Captain Kai about the future. About a city on a hill that we all could live in. Call me a starry eyed marine private, but I actually meant what I said."

"What's preventing that," Aly asks her after a time. She doesn't focus on the other things - not yet. "Why can't that happen?"

"There are Cylons who do not want it to happen," Jules says and then clears her throat, "Humans, too, I'd wager. The wound is deep and it has to be healed first."

Aly's eyes are on Jules' face, watching her body language. While she seems a comfortable, interested, friendly type, she's still a psyche, still trained. "Why do the Cylons not want it to happen," she asks, brows pulling together.

"Why do people who lost family in the first war want to keep fighting a second war?" Question answered with a question. Jules stares unblinking at Aly. "And let's just say that our first birth, as a weapon for humanity to kill other humans, didn't exactly endear us. Just because the first war was 50 years ago, doesn't mean we've forgotten why it was fought."

She considers that for a time, then nods slowly. "I imagine you can understand why I find this so fascinating," Aly says after a bit. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not putting aside what you've had to say, it's just quite a bit for me to absorb. It's…I'm not sure. I guess I'd have to say that it seems like insurmountable odds. There are so few of us left, maybe a few thousands, at best. Against how many Cylons?"

There's a twist at Jules' lips, a crooked sort of smile and she says, "Did you want a ballpark estimate or the exact number for your superiors?" She holds the doc with her eyes for a moment before answering, "A lot more than what's left of humanity. Honestly, your long term survival odds without us helping you are pretty much in the shitter."

Aly just blinks at Jules for a moment, then shakes her head, laughing quietly. "Actually, I hadn't even considered asking for my superiors," she replies. "Call it my own curiosity as a student of social sciences. This is all incredibly fascinating. It's a view into…a different culture, as it were." Yes, the words are carefully chosen.

"We're not so different. And there are some of us that hate that. Personally, I'd be happy with a husband and a baby and a planet full of life to care for." Jules seems quite earnest as she shares a little more of herself. "But I have many promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep."

There's a soft, quiet laugh at that and Aly nods, once. "Oddly, I find myself similarly inclined. I suppose it's the doctor in me." The smile fades as she leans back again. "I did want to ask you about something you mentioned before, about not dying. What would happen if they didn't execute you?"

Jules licks her lips and leans back in her seat herself. "It'd be evidence of humanity's mercy. Of forgiveness. If ever contact was made with the Cylons, I could speak well of you, I could tell them of being treated more than fairly. Believe it or not, I'm less of a threat to you all in my cell than I am with a bullet between my eyes."

"I quite imagine that the idea of being kept alive, without the hope of being reborn, as you've mentioned, has to be a nightmare scenario to a Cylon," she says softly.

Jules shakes her head, "No. Just because I don't fear death… I don't -want- to experience it. You see a caged bird, I see a being who is surrounded with the people she has grown to love."

"People like Captain Marek, Lieutenant Nikolo and Petty Officer Daiasu," Aly asks, reaching up to brush a bit of hair behind her ear. "And Oscar, of course."

"I love them," Jules admits with a bob of her head. "I love you, too. Just for coming to see me a second time when you didn't have to."

Aly doesn't touch the last part, seeming to focus on the first. "What does love mean to you, Private," she asks quietly, curiously.

A considering moment is taken before Jules answers softly, "Caring about someone else more than you care about yourself. Being willing to sacrifice everything for them, to keep them safe."

"And you're willing to sacrifice everything to keep us safe," Aly asks, a brow arching ever so slightly, indicating just a hint of surprise.

[Intercom] Praxis says, "Prepare for jump. Engaging FTL drive in thirty …. …. five, four, three, two, one, jump."

"I am willing to die, if that will keep you safe," Jules says with a firm nod of her head.

Announcement: Nike shouts, "As the ship completes its jump, and skews back into normal space and time once more, it's immediately slammed hard to port, and then back to starboard. The pitching and bumping continues for a good five or ten minutes. In addition, lights flicker out in various corridors and other locations throughout decks one and two, including the mess hall. Violent electrical storms are characteristic of the Ragnar gas giant's upper atmosphere, providing for a bumpier than usual egress from faster than light travel."

The woman leans forward, resting her arms on the table, crossed, as she studies Jules. "Private," she says softly. "I have to let you know that certain people you love are now under suspicion, particularly Captain Marek and Lieutenant Nikolo. And they're under suspicion because of their association with you."

"I… That's not fair. There were times when I thought maybe I could tell the Captain, but, they didn't kno—" That's about when the jump goes through and Jules blinks a few times, turning a little pale. This is followed up by being jarred violently enough to get thrown out of her chair. Crying out, she tries to keep her footing through the ship's bucking.

Aly ends up going flying as well, as do the guards. This isn't exactly an optimal situation for anyone. She had one hand on the table and managed to grab it - only to have the hand slide off. "Private," she calls, managing to wrap an arm around the table leg only after being tossed a few times like a ragdoll. That's gonna leave a bruise. "Private, are you alright?" Not 'are you still there,' not 'are you escaping.'

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Jules -does- look a little overly pale where she clings to a bulkhead. It's a hard feat, given the way her hands are bound. "Are you okay?" She closes her eyes and tries not to hork all over the floor.

The psyche waits for a moment to gauge the rhythm of the ship, then uses a buck to slide over toward Jules. Her hands are free, and she grabs hold of the bulkhead, swinging her legs around to block the private in. "Hold on," she says quietly. "It'll stop soon. Just close your eyes and imagine you're in a boat on the water, fishing."

[Intercom] Praxis says, "Power failure, decks One and Two. I say again, power failure on deck one and two. Dispatch damage control."

It's a bit of trust that Aly tosses Jules in that moment. A lot of bad could happen. It doesn't, however. The private shrinks against the bulkhead in her psychologist cacoon and keeps her eyes closed. "It's not as bad in a Raptor, y'know. I did lots of jumps in Raptors, but… Kharon doesn't move like this." She blows out a steadying breath and that's about when the lights go out, only for the emergency ones to kick back in, tinting the room. There's a little squeak from Jules and she says, "Please God, don't let this be the way it ends, please."

Announcement: Nike shouts, "In a few more minutes, the ship has mostly stabilised again. There's the occasional shudder and groan as its hull is battered by the storms raging in its vicinity, but power to the remaining decks holds. For the time being."

Oh, lovely. Now the lights are out. This, this is not a good thing. Aly's been with prisoners before, worked in a prison, but the prison didn't jump anywhere. "Deep breaths, Juliette," Aly says in a low, quiet voice. There's something almost soothing about that tone. "Just focus on my voice and take yourself to somewhere safe and comfortable. Tell me where you'd go?"

The fearsome prisoner trembles where she's fallen and keeps her eyes closed, taking a deep breath. "A forest. It's summer. There's squirrels and… and birds. A baby deer. It's quiet and loud all at the same time."

"Don't forget Oscar," Aly murmurs, smiling just a bit as she clings. No, she's not any happier about this. "It sounds peaceful and warm. Do you think Oscar would be lazing around in a sunbeam, or squirrel hunting?"

"I think he'd be happier in the sunbeam… he's a big poser when it comes to hunting," Jules admits with an anxious little laugh. She rests her head against the bulkhead and says, "Sometimes I used to get my rack time in the Cargo Bay, just so he could sleep on me and keep us warm."

Aly laughs softly at that, nodding. "Cats are good for that. They enjoy keeping us warm, but they also make quite a few demands. Feed me being among the topmost." As things stop shaking, Aly looks up, tilting her head back. "Ok, I think the worst is probably over." Slowly, and carefully, she starts to unwind, waving off the MPs who come to check on them. Rolling to her feet, she reaches down to take Jules' elbow.

Announcement: Nike shouts, "It's relatively smooth sailing for the next couple of minutes. Bumps, clangs and creaks can be heard through the aging carrier as it navigates a path through the planet's atmosphere.

Then the ship violently shudders and pitches again. If it's turbulence, it's vicious. But it's probably not turbulence. Alarms start going off on deck three, and are heard around the ship as something seems to impact with the hull plating."

Swallowing, Jules rises to her feet with Aly's help. There's a moment where her eyes meet the doctors and then she moves -very- quickly. For a frightening second, it looks like she might actually be aiming to hurt the woman. What happens, though, is a hug. And she sighs. … Just in time for the next bout of turbulence to try to send them sprawling. This time, she puts a hand out and tries to keep them both on their feet.

Aly goes utterly stiff as Jules' arms go around her - training kicks in. But she doesn't pull away. "Gack," the woman says quietly, as she ends up with her back against the bulkhead, arms wrapping around the other woman carefully, protectively. "Ok, so it sounds like there's a storm going on in the forest," she murmurs, careful not to let that thread of fear make itself known. "Next calm, back to our chairs. We'll be safer there, holding onto the table."

"Okay," Jules says, a contrast from the psychologist. The hug is an easy one and just tight enough to keep Aly close. When the ship stops lurching, she releases the woman and hobbles over to her seat, clambering into it and gripping the table as if it was a piece of driftwood in a stormy ocean. "Something bad is coming."

<Intercom> Attention! Action Stations! Set Condition One throughout the ship.

Aly makes sure Jules is settled before she takes her own seat, sliding around the table and keeping a good hold on it. "They'll likely want to take you back when the lights come back on," she says quietly. "So we've still got a few more minutes to talk." A pause. "Do you think? We were heading into Ragnor…"

"Ragnar Anchorage?" There's a little quirking of Jules' eyebrow and she says, "It could be you're going to find something you didn't expect to… I don't know exactly. There's some of us who believe that by listening carefully to the universe around us that we can see the truth of things. Sometimes the future."

[Intercom] Sen says, "Attention all hands! Evacuation ordered immediately for Deck Three sections eight, nine, and ten. Repeat, evacuate deck three, between firedoors eight, nine, and ten. Hull compromised. Fire hazzard. Section is being contained and vented."

Aly quirks a brow slightly as she studies the other woman. "It can also be gotten by listening to com traffic," she replies quietly, gently.

"That's not what I mean. It's not words, it's what lies between them." Jules lowers her head to the table, clinging tightly there still. "It's something one of my brothers likes to talk about. The deeper meaning to … well, everything."

"Tell me about him," Aly asks quietly, doing her best to take both their minds off what's going on.

"They're an older model. Wiser. A little obsessive, but with a kind of focus and conviction you wouldn't find in someone outside of a cloistered religious order on Gemenon." Head still on the table, Jules says, "He has a way of taking your beliefs and showing you a new side to them. Something you hadn't thought of."

"And you call him brother," she asks softly, keeping her voice low, quiet. "How many years older is he?" It's a typical question.

"Many." Vagueness from the prisoner there. "I call them all brother and sister, because that's what they are. Don't you feel the same way about your people?" Jules looks up from the table.

Aly's quiet for a long moment, then asks quietly, "What's your brother's name, Juliette?" There's something soft about her voice, gentle.

"He's number two." Jules lowers her head back to the table and breathes deeply. "I'm number seven."

That gives her pause for a time and her head tilts a little. "He doesn't have a name, like yours, Juliette," she asks quietly. "Or do … do you all have different names?" Perhaps there's not a whole lot of understanding there. Or maybe there is.

"Juliette is the human name I was given as my cover. I like it, it's pretty, but we don't usually have names. We can tell the difference between one member of a model and another." The private keeps her head down and her grip tight. "Every human I know, knows me as Juliette. That's how you'll know me from one of my sisters."

"Your sisters would no more answer to Juliette as I would," Aly murmurs quietly, the last word lilting up only slightly in a half question. "Do you…are there siblings among the Cylons, as there are in human society?"

"Genetically?… no." Turning her head slightly so she can make eye contact with Aly, Jules says, "But there are bonds of affection between Cylons that are not dissimilar."

Aly's quiet, leaning back as she watches the other woman, nodding slowly. "Those are fairly common, honestly. I have no siblings myself, but I formed bonds with others that are closer than blood." A flash of sadness crosses her face, though she looks away.

"You're a curious person." A quiet note by Jules followed by a slight pause. "I'm curious myself about how you feel about what I've told you. Do you believe me? … And if you do, how does that make you feel? Could you accept me for what I am?"

Ahhh, the hot seat. Aly's quiet for a bit longer before looking back at the woman. "My logic tells me that you are delusional, deep in your delusion, deeper than any person I have ever, ever worked with," she replies after a bit. "And that logic tells me there's been an older male instrumental in your decision to kill Commander Sheridan. It is possible that either Lieutenant Nikolo or Captain Marek will be indicted for that crime." She leaves that there for a moment. "And on the other hand…" The words aren't easy in coming. "On the other hand, what you're saying would make so much sense. Despite what you've said about humanity, as a whole, being warlike and killing, there are those of us who don't believe in that. Humanity is being tarred with the same brush you claim we're tarring Cylons with."

"That's the rub, isn't it?" Jules' response to that last bit from Aly. "It's life, too. Loving something that you're supposed to hate." She starts, very slowly, to sit up and lean back in her chair, relaxing her death grip on the table. "Also, your logic is utterly wrong. Listen to your heart."

Mimieux smiles a touch wryly. "That is the lot of the psyche, I'm afraid," she comments quietly. "On the one hand, I am a scientist. I need proof. I need to see to understand. On the other hand, I'm expected to live by my intuition."

"If I could provide it, I would. But you've stuffed me in a cell and are planning on killing me," Jules folds her arms over her chest, shoring up her interpersonal wall. "If you believe your logic, then why ask me all the questions… see how detailed the psychotic's story is? But if I'm crazy then why would you kill me? Why not just lock me up or drop me someplace remote where I couldn't hurt anyone again." She points at Mimieux and states, "I'm done answering your questions. Tell them to grow a pair and put a bullet to me already."

Aly offers the woman a small, almost sad smile. "Because you murdered one of ours," she says quietly. "In cold blood, you took at least one life and would likely have taken others had you the opportunity, all in the name of what you claim to have been told to do. For that reason we cannot just let you go. And yes, part of my job is to see how deep the delusion goes, to see how strongly you believe. Which is where logic and heart clash. My training tells me that you should not believe so deeply, so thoroughly." The woman stands, slowly. "I'll be back to see you, hopefully. I'm not certain if it will be allowed."

"It's up to you. But if it's all the same, I'd rather just get it over with. It's coming and the longer I have it hanging over my head, the more anxious I get," Jules rises herself and takes a step towards the woman, an act that has the MPs training their weapons on her. "Soldiers kill in cold blood all the time and your people are still yet my enemy, it isn't my fault you can't wrap your simian brain around the truth. I'm sorry, but it isn't. Please just stay away from me. I appreciate you coming to see me and that you're taking care of Oscar, but I just want to move on with my life."

The MPs are training their weapons, but Aly doesn't seem overly worried. Her eyes simply flick briefly over the other woman. "Be well, Juliette," she says quitly. "And may your chosen deity have mercy on your soul." With that, she turns to leave.

"Good bye, Lieutenant." Jules turns her back on the woman and runs her hands through her hair. It's the easiest way to conceal the tears on her cheeks from the doctor, at least, if not the MPs. Quietly, she mumbles, trying to comfort herself, "All this has happened before and all this will happen again."

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