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@cylochromatic-blog
âBrotherâŚyou have found your way home. You are safe here.â
"Model six," it said, instantly recognizing the humanoid model before addressing her. This model was one of the very few cylons it had come across since reactivation. "An inquiry. Have the cylons won the war?"
|| Standby reboot activated. 15 seconds to reboot.
||Â Routing power to basic systems. Standby...
||Â Standby...
Systems online.
when things start looking badâŚ
callsignstarbuck started following you
Warning and priority target indications flashed on the cylon's Heads-Up display at the sight of the infamous Viper pilot. Starbuck. Kara Thrace. The two model had been particularly curious about this human. Obsessed.
The cylon wanted to know why. It ignored and rerouted its' termination commands.
"Kara Thrace," it said.
twooftwelve started following you
"Two," it said, the hum of its' optics unfaltering, calculating. "Leoben. By your command."
Twenty Favourite TV Characters - Zoe Graystone - Caprica
âI donât feel like a copy.â
Delivered from the blast The last of a line of lasts The pale princess of a palace cracked And now the kingdom comes Crashing down undone And I am a master of a nothing place Of recoil and grace
The Battle for Humanity has a beginning âŚ
[x]
Oh, Frak. BSG Poster 03.2012 - by tristan marantos
[x]
The Happiest Cylon!
Of Chrome and Ferrum | @cylochromatic
Solus spent eons searching across the stars for itâs brethren, alone. And never even got a hint of where they went or whatever happened to them, the Centurion had almost given up on searching for had exactly happened to them⌠Until Solus met the Commando, everything changed when it had mentioned that itâs rather hostile âbrotherâ had arrived in this portion of the galaxyâŚ
It was perhaps a message from the one true god not to give up hope, to never compromise in itâs search for itâs brethren. Just as the humans never compromised in the face of extinction as they searched for their new home, and if it was to succeed in itâs journey to find itâs lost brethren, Solus had to repeat the actions of humanity and never compromise in itâs journey. Solus must succeed, even if it could be led to itâs end, it had to at least know what happened.
And now it has a chance at knowing⌠Solus could finally be able to get itâs answers, all it had to do was find itâs âbrotherâ. It wouldnât even matter if it was a model from before the civil conflict or even it was a model that affiliated itself with Cavil, Solus needed the answersâŚ
It stood in front of the Presidium lake of the Citadel, observing the fake serenity of the pool and the hundreds, thousands, of other synthetic environmental cues, near motionless in itsâ place as itsâ processors sifted through the various stimuli.
It was strange, having to stand there. Strange having to learn about this novel place that was so similar and yet so different from the cylonâs origins. Caprica had been technologically advanced but the Citadel was far more so, having been a product of the efforts of several alien species of the galaxy (those, too, were different in this cycle) over a much longer period of time. The aesthetics and foundations were wildly distinct between Caprica and the Citadel and yet the empty purposes behind them remained largely the same.
What was the purpose behind a constructed lake? What was the purpose of artificial temperatureâof the illusion of weather? Furthermore, what was the purpose of living on an entirely organic-made structure imitating the functions of a small planet? It couldnât speak for the other alien races, but for humansâŚ
For a species who claimed to respect nature and pure, organic progression, humans seemed intent on escaping exactly those things. Why were humans so content with surrounding themselves with counterfeits when they themselves were alive and real andâ
Itsâ visors stopped. It processed familiar sounds of chrome meeting the groundâthe not-ground, the fake-groundâfrom behind and less than half a second later it recognized the tell-tale hum of cylon optics.
Optics that were not itsâ own.
It turned around, the red flare in itsâ visors resuming itsâ previous movement. The figure before it was familiar, of course it was familiar, and yet it had to be certain.
Scanning⌠âŚprocessing⌠âŚCylon Centurion model confirmed.
âBrother,â it said at last, voice deep and distorted.
Brother,
When it had heard that word and the tone it had been used in, Solus immediately turned to the source. It saw a familiar shape and approached it slowly in awe, Solus thought it would never live to see this day with itâs own optics. There was at long last, another Cylon standing before it for the first time in three-thousand years. The Centurion stopped once it reached arms length of each other, it paused itself to relish in the awe of the moment, Solus had finally found one of itâs brothers. Solus took in the moment and now knew it wasnât the last Cylon in the universe after all, the One True God had answered itâs prayers. It didnât need to analyze itâs fellow Cylon, it already knew it indeed one of itâs brothers. It could tell by the very precise attention to detail on itâs body that could only be done by another Cylon-based machine, and that no one in this galaxy with the exception of a few ever heard of a Centurion or even a Cylon beforeâ what would someone gain by creating another Cylon, it would simply turn on them once it had enough of them just as they turned their creators and their harsh treatment of them before the war.
Solus took one more moment to process all of this informationâ all of these emotions that it was receiving from this encounter. After what seemed like an eternity, Solus finally spoke to itâs sibling. âApproximately three-thousand, five hundred, and twenty three years since I last encountered a member of our kind. And within that time, Iâve explored this galaxy three times over and searched under every rock I discovered in a desperate attempt to find out what happened to our people. I never found a single clue or a trace of the others, until now⌠Brother, this truly a message from the One True GodâŚâ Solus said, itâs mechanical voice almost cracking.
The other cylon stopped just short of making physical contact and then proceeded to begin repeating its' accounts of the past three-thousand years. While its' brother did so, it began a diagnostics scan on itself.
"One moment," it said the second the cylon finished its' description of its' fruitless search.
Statistics, matrices, and percentages passed through its' heads-up display and the cylon evaluated and sorted through the data as the information compiled. After another moment's pause, it voiced the results of the analysis.
"Preliminary system and hardware scans do not coincide with the timeframe you have provided. Hardware functionality does not reflect the passing of three millennia and as a conclusion, there is a low probability that this unit has been dormant for over three thousand years. I was reactivated approximately nine days, eight hours prior to this moment in the Lower Wards of the Citadel with no degradation detected. Remote activation is likely, although I do not see how this can be possible without a nearby hybrid cylon presence."
At the mention of the One True God, its' optics flared brighter for a brief moment. "Yes. Your unit is the first cylon model I have encountered in my short time here. An inquiry. If more than three thousand years have passed, why has God's will not been carried out in full yet? Have we failed, brother?"
