- NIGHT 6 -
Two met sat at the bar. One dressed in a suit while the other in traditional quorum garb. It had been just hours after the day's execution, and the guilt of possibly sending a man to wrongful execution was weighing on their consciences. They were confident that they made the right choices, but what about the past tribunals? Were they right, then?
"I am a genius afterall, and the one true God gave me this magnificent brain to save humanity!" Gaius Baltar's loud words echoed through the room, interrupting the two mens' silence.
"Is it weird in here or is it just me?" the traditionally dressed man joked, commenting on the very flamboyant doctor's need for attention.
"That Baltar is a headcase if you ask me," the man in the suit responded. He tilted down his sunglasses to get a better look at the man whose ego could barely fit in the entire ship.
The other man laughed. "Genius is more often found in a cracked pot than in a whole one."
"I'll drink to that!"
The two men continued talking, glad to have something else on their minds.
...
Elsewhere in the bar sat Symmetry and his date for the night.
"So tell me, Luke, what do you do on this ship?," she asked him.
"Well first off, my name is Symmetry." He gave her a reassuring smile, noticing her face turning red in embarassment. "And second, I am just a simple member of the crew. Nothing special."
She finished off her drink, and pointed to the door. "I'm tired of talking. Enough games. Let's get out of here and be rid of this place for good."
He wasn't sure where this was going, but hoped it led straight to one of their beds. They both stood up and carried each other to the exit, slightly stumbling on the way.
Upon reaching her cabin, the woman turned to Symmetry abruptly. Her face was pale by now, but her eyes were bloodshot. "I'm kinda drunk, but I feel really bad because I lied."
Suddenly a man came up behind Symmetry and quickly jabbed him with a knife. Symmetry turned around and tried to take a swing at his attacker, but to no avail. The wound was too severe.
"Why?," he asked with his last breath.
The man didn't answer, and instead watched
Symmetry die on the floor. He was done with petty skirmishes.
The man walked the woman to her quarters and then proceeded to his own room.
"6 hours of sleep tonight, and then another day of lynching."
...
A man was giving the medical bay another go as he was rummaging through the piles of notes on various desks. The only significant bit of help he could find was the series of numbers he saw on the night before.
"What the frak do these mean?," he shouted in frustration. "I have to figure this out, damn it. Our survival depends on it."
His search was interrupted by the blaring sound of alarms ringing in the ship. Startled, he left the room and sought shelter.
...
Alarms rang in section two.
"Our Cylon raiders are there," a man said to himself in his dark room. He is a Cylon, but unfortunately felt more attached to humanity as a result of his upbringing. He had been collecting pages of Dr. Baltar's smuggled religious teachings and attaching them to his wall for inspiration.
"I hope Baltar is right about the one true God," he said as he looked to his wall of text for guidance. "And I hope that God forgives me for what I am."