2237-05-21 - The Theory

Some theorizing about the origins of the Cylons happens around the pool table.

Date: 2237-05-21

Location: Crew Lounge

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1040

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Crew Lounge Vanguard

05/21/2017 ~ 05/21/2237

The crew lounge is located at the front of the ship, and a wide viewport provides a spectacular view of the space ahead when open, making the room feel bigger than it actually is. Sturdy blast doors close over the window when the ship is under alert. Small tables are scattered around the room, surrounded by plain metal chairs. Card games are pretty popular, but other crew members prefer reading, watching vids, or playing VR games. There are a few shelves with books and a few popular magazines. Tucked away in one corner is a pool table.

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Salvae comes into the lounge with his bag of yarn under his arm. Spying his favourite couch is free, he heads on over and settles down to continue working on his latest project.

Durant was occupied momentarily at the pool table, leaning over the dark green turf with cue stick in hand. A loud crack of the cue ball bounced against the rail and barely tapped his targeted solid purple number four. It barely moved and missed the side pocket. Motormouth sucked at her teeth loudly, "See should have let me teach ya, not sayin I'm the best but I am pretty damn good. Better than most. Best than most." The ECO leaned her hip against the pool table and smiled brightly as Socks entered. "Hey Socks, what's that?" She asked.

Durant pulled himself upright and leaned onto the cue stick. "Sup?" He greeted the Viper pilot.

"How are ya now?" Salvae asks, seeing the pair shooting some stick. "Oh, just got my knittin, workin on a pair, these space boots they have us wearing, just don't keep my tootsies warm enough," he declares, relaxing back a bit as he begins with his needles. "Who's winnin?"

Kahena looks to have dozed off in one of the couches, all curled up with her legs tucked in and her head draped over the back. Must've been a long day.

Motormouth slowly moved around the table to take her turn as Socks answered her inquiry. "They gotta do somethin about heatin up these ships. Why can't they rig up some like portable heater down there? Wouldn't that be better? I guess you can double up on the Socks. Then your boots won't fit. What size are your boots?" Durant wasn't surprised that as her mouth yammered she could still manage to shoot some balls and talk. And make the shot. "She is." Durant answered as he waited his turn and both hands were folded around the pool stick he was leaning on, "And with luck not for long." The ECO made a face as another ball was smacked, rolling right into another pocket.

Salvae quirks an eyebrow as Motormouth sinks another one. "ECO can work a stick, I see," he observes with a smile. His needles work the yarn for another few moments, glancing between that and the game, then waits between shots to answer Motormouth, "Depends on the brand, usually a ten or so," he says, glancing down at his own boots, "These snuck in at an eleven, I guess that gives me room to double up, ya?"

Kahena jolts awake at the crack of billiard balls across the room, and wipes the back of her hand across her mouth like she half expects to have been drooling. Her eyes blink open blearily, and she shuffles into a more upright position as she tries to ascertain how long she dozed off for.

"You bet your sock knittin ass I can." The ECO pointed her wooden weapon in hand to Salvae as she walked around the table again to line up another shot. Durant took a few steps aside as to award the woman her room for play. There were other activities on and off again throughout the lounge: some card playing, some reading as well as light banter tossed here and there. The raptor Pilot snaps his eyes towards person no longer sleeping. "Welcome back to the living." Durant greeted Kahena then resumed the conversation with Salvae, "Any word on that Caprican squadron? Seems like we should be doin somethin for you know... the fallen pilot."

"Caprican's had a downed bird, too?" Salvae asks, glancing over to Durant. "Damn shame, after Canceron lost an ace yesterday, now Caprica?" He shakes his head, "Damned shame.. First I find out the other colonies don't have All Dressed, and now this.."

Kahena scrapes her bangs out of her eyes, and fixes the pool-playing LT with a bleary-eyed look that's part confusion, part indignation. Mention of a fallen pilot garners her curiosity though, and she shuffles to her feet to fetch a cup of coffee - with half an ear on the conversation.

Motormouth is leaning over the table with one eye closed and the other aiming down the length of the cue stick, "He meant the Canceron pilot ya Lastman?" Durant shook his head, "Right the that one." He started to rub at his eyes then continued after being corrected. "I haven't heard of any losses from other squadrons. But what's this about dressed?"

"Oh, ya, can you believe Aerilon's the only colony with All Dressed chips?" Salvae shakes his head in disbelief. "I bet that's what the cylons are upset about, eleven of the twelve colonies are trapped in a barbaric existence without the best chip flavour around."

A muffled curse was grunted as the ECO missed her shot. Durant was up now and he needed to close the gap of his loss with five solid colors still longing for a netted pocket to call their home. "Doubtful." Durant answered, slightly amused. Motormouth moved away to refill her drink while the raptor pilot prepped his aim, "Toasters don't have feelings." He punched the cue stick at the green six and it slammed into one of the side homes. "You can't program emotion."

"Well, not so much emotions, as matter of facts," Salvae says, watching the game. "Oh nice, she gave you lots of room to work," he observes. "So, the fact that eleven of the twelve colonies were wallowing in a poverty of properly prepared potatoes clearly did not compute." He pauses his knitting and leans forward as if he were about to share a closely guarded secret. "Why do yas thinks the cylons haven't hit Aerilon yet? Hmmm?" It couldn't possibly be that Aerilon couldn't afford to buy cylon armies like the other colonies did.

Durant measured the table's layout of remaining balls as questions hung in the air. "Strategic wise it doesn't make sense. If you're going to weaken your enemy you would hit their resources first." Not his home. The raptor pilot moved around the table, giving Salvae his back momentarily while hitting another ball. "But these are machines. They don't need food. They need resources to sustain them."

"Do they now?" Salvae wonders, leaning back as he focuses upon his knitting as he thinks. "Do they really think like that, though?" He wonders, never really having seen one up close, that he knows of. "If they was after resources, they wouldn't be wating time on Canceron.. Only thing on this planet's a bunch of people to shoot at." he narrows his eyes for effect and looks back up. "A bunch of people without the right kind of chips."

"I'd imagine they would. Those machines can't last forever. They managed to turn all the colonies upside down with their jamming up their purpose." Neither could humans. Durant sank another ball just as Motormouth was returning. At the topic in hand the young ECO groaned loudly, "Really Durant? I leave you alone for one minute and you've managed to get..." She starts a quick count of table. "3?! Ugh..."

Ignoring her banter Durant lined up another shot. "Right.. cause that's important." He remarked to Salvae.

"It's not about what's important, it's about programmin and ones and zeros and all that bullshit," Salvae explains. "You see, a robot don't think like you an me, right? The think like 10: Say Hello World 15: Ask for All Dressed 20: If no All Dressed, start shooting 25: Goto 10, we've all done that in the second grade."

Motormouth bit into a small cookie as she leaned on the table, waiting her turn. "Yeah well someone done fraked up and forgot to program do not harm humans." The ECO spat with some cookie crumbs flying out of her mouth. She wiped at her lips then raised it in the air flamboyantly. "Which doesn't follow that logic. So either they're thinkin or someone had updated their programming."

Durant was quiet for the most part and listening to the conversation as he tried to turn the tables in his favor in their game. "Great. Now I'm hungry." He murmured with all this talk of chips.
Salvae nods his head to Motormouth, "Aye, ya, there's a little hitch in the theory, there," he admits. "I'm leaning towards a lightnig strike," he says, thinking back to some of the action movies he's watched. "Or some zitty script kiddie on Caprica fresh off a vacation to Aerilon, pining after the salty perfection of All Dressed." He pauses as the hampster jumps on the wheel. "Yeah, some little pube clacking away on his laptop wrote a virus, sending his cylon butler on a search and destroy. The butler then modems over to the other cylons and there ya have it. They go ape."

The ECO laughs aloud, "That's so daft it may even be plausible!" Another ball made it's home and now the game was pretty even with one left to the each of them. "Hohoho, Lastman with an impressive comback. Will he be shining the whole bunk row's boots the next two weeks?!" %%Durant stood up from leaning on the table, glancing between the pair of them. "You really should let that theory die." Back to the game the man tried to bring the game to an end but he missed, granting way for Motormouth to push off her table and unfortunately school the raptor pilot on how to be a winner.

Salvae smirks and inclines his head, "I'd be surprised if it was something more complicated than that," he says, then lets the topic go. He knits for a moment or two, then looks back up, "Lastman, You're from Aquaria, right? You know that guy that climbed into the bouncy ball and rolled off a cliff by accident?"

"Yes and no." Durant answered. He opened his mouth to ask for more clarification then a loud crack sliced through the air. Motormouth howled, "Oh yea... oh yeah!" She began dry humping the air, "Who's your Daddy now? That's right! Make 'em shiiiiine!"

Durant wasn't a sore loser. He smirked then said, "Good game Motormouth." Then he returned to Salvae, "I don't know them personally in fact I've never even heard of that."

"Ah, it was all over the cortex a while back," Salvae says. The meme had taken five years to reach Aerilon, and even then, it was five years ago.


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