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    VivianVector

    1. Cylons Attack the Fleet

      by , 05-24-2015 at 11:11 AM
      It becomes apparent that I have been watching too much Battlestar Galactica, I start having a lot of dreams with cylons. I also miss a very obvious cue that I am dreaming.

      --- --- --- --- ---

      I was a part of a fleet, very reminiscent of the one from the show, but distinctly different. It had split, and half of us had set down upon a planet to await further instructions. All the higher-ups were with the other group, so I suddenly found myself with more power and responsibilities than I had ever had before. We expected no resistance here, so most of us took the downtime as a sort of shore leave. We could finally breathe fresh air and stretch our legs. The atmosphere was breathable, and the forested landscape was very reminiscent of Earth.

      We had a few large carrier ships here along with a number of smaller vessels. All were fitted out with a number of detachable, five-man pods, which could be easily moved or picked up by our multitude of small ferry ships. They were our emergency escape option if we did not have enough time to get the larger ships into the air. We would shuttle the pods into orbit and hope for recovery.

      I was stationed in one of the smaller ships that was mainly populated by political workers; secretaries, advisers and the like. We all got along quite well, which was fortunate given how little space we had to share.

      I was outside enjoying the warm daylight air. The youngest of our group approached, an energetic male in his late-twenties. He made a comment in regards to our continued survival. He was wondering just how long we could expect to live. The rest of us shared a knowing look and laughed.
      "I have cancer," I told him. I was not upset by it.
      "So you're dying?" he asked. The question took me aback.
      "Well yes, I suppose so."

      I wandered around the metal landing brace that we had been gathered around. The air was fresh and plants flourished on this planet. My older friend turned to face me as I approached. He had dark, curly hair and a lazy eye, but he was a very perceptive man.
      "Have you been having any dreams?" he asked.
      "I have, actually. They're pretty good." I shrugged. Any significance had been lost on me.

      Nice one.

      We were back on the ship, in a small area under the open air. It was certainly not a section of the ship that could be utilised during space-flight. Our young friend came into the room.
      "Doesn't it drive you mad sometimes, that any of us could be a cylon and not even realise it?" he asked, exasperated. My friend with the lazy eye addressed his concerns.
      "Whenever I start having those thoughts, I sit down for a while and use this, and it reminds me of what I am." He held up a fist-sized ball covered in a multitude of small, coloured dots. As he rolled it around in his hands with grace and skill, the spectral patterns would seem to move around the ball, following his guidance. It was a remarkable sight.
      "But doesn't that just mean you are more likely to be a cylon?" the young man joked, marvelling at the creation.
      "The orb is covered in floating, magnetic beads," replied my friend.
      "Oh," another chimed in. "I always found that thing fascinating."

      I was outside again, enjoying a quiet evening stroll. That's when the attack began. Fighters came in out of nowhere and began shooting up the ships. We were caught unawares, and the larger carriers would take some time to warm up for flight. I saw a couple of shuttles begin ferrying pods up into the atmosphere, but not nearly enough. I was too far from the ship at this point to run back, but there was a group of parked cars situated not too far away. I felt as though our best chance at survival was to scatter and pray that the rest of the fleet would return before it was too late. Some of the vacant pods began to explode on the undersides of the ships. We only had a limited supply, and even with all of them it wouldn't be enough.

      A utility screeched past with my friend at the wheel and an empty pod in his tray. He didn't stop for me, but I took his cue. I dashed over to a nearby 4x4, selecting one with enough boot space in case I was able to get a pod myself. Fortunately, it was unlocked. I hopped in, hoping that I would remember how to drive in a punch, and dropping the sun visor. Keys fell onto the ground. In relief, I picked them up and hurriedly turned on the engine. The car growled to life and I took to the road, following another survivor in similar style.

      Hundreds of survivors had fled on foot, running out into the parklands. Cylon ground troops had landed in force, and were pursuing them into the forest. I attempted to navigate the chaos, but the roads were impractical and the cylons were wreaking havoc. I saw a pair I had seen many times before. Wherever they were deployed, they never shot a human, but would take the opportunity to 1v1. The would chase each other around instead, and hope their comrades did not discover their little game.

      I ignored them and turned my attention to the madness around me. I saw a group of cylons chasing down some civilians. I pulled the car around and paused for a moment. I was surrounded by chaos, and it would be futile to attempt to navigate my way out, even in a vehicle. I gunned the engine, put my car in gear, and chased down the cylons instead.

      Updated 01-02-2016 at 11:10 AM by 89402

      Tags: cylon, narrative
      Categories
      non-lucid