Characters: Caprica!Six, Tigh, mentions of Kara and Sam
Word Count: 808
Summary: The woman’s love for her husband was strong. Strong enough, Caprica deduced, that the woman would resort to using her body to win his freedom.
Author's Notes: Drabble written for emavalexis, as part of the drabble request meme. :) (By the way, I still have a few spots left open, so if you'd like to make a request, feel free!) This turned out a bit differently than my original idea, and unfortunately Kara doesn't have a direct role, but I hope this appeals nonetheless! It was a lot of fun getting inside Six's head, which is a place I don't often get to go.
She reflected that there was still so much they did not know about love.
Caprica wanted to find out. She had argued in favour of the experiment for that reason. The other models were at first puzzled and then amused by this suggestion. They guessed that it had something to do with Gaius Baltar. In this they were partly correct, but only partly. She had seen, while trapped with the human Sam Anders, that he had known love as well. He kept a dogtag from the Colonial Fleet. A dogtag belonging to one Kara Thrace. Anders handled the dogtag as though it was his most precious possession – precious beyond even his weapon, which would seem to be far more useful in his situation. Caprica was intrigued.
When the models arrived at the human settlement, matters did not go quite as scheduled. The plan had been for all of them to present themselves on Colonial One to solicit the President’s surrender. But Leoben insisted that they permit him to go off on his own. His destiny lay along a different path, he explained. When questioned, he admitted that Kara Thrace was in residence in the settlement, and that he needed to show her the way to her true destiny.
So Leoben, too, could love. Caprica was fascinated.
But she felt her studies in human romance did not truly begin until she met Saul Tigh. She could not remember exactly when he was brought in. The Eight calling herself Boomer muttered about local trouble, an insurgency that had been bombing strategic areas and generally disturbing the peace. There was strong evidence suggesting that Tigh, a former officer on the Galactica, was behind or at least promoting these attacks. The Cylon Council made the decision to bring him in for questioning.
Caprica was not involved in what occurred next. In another situation she might have felt for the man, inasmuch as a Cylon could pity a complete stranger. He was older than she thought he’d be, and she could not help but be shocked at the interrogation tactics authorized by the Council. The questioning was directed by Cavil, and Caprica had no inkling of the direction it had taken until he walked past her with a round shiny object clutched in his hand. The object was an eyeball. Tigh’s eyeball.
She tried to protest then that the interrogation had gone too far, that this was not what they had sought out the planet to do. No one listened. Caprica reasoned later that this was part of God’s plan, that God sought to show her the power of the love that could exist between human beings. She could only accept His wisdom for what it was: a lesson.
Several days later, Cavil stunned the Council with the unexpected news that Tigh would be released. They had found no real evidence linking him to the bombings, and further questioning was proving to be useless. Caprica could not help but confront Cavil later. Why, she asked, was their prisoner being let go now, after he had so eloquently argued in favour of Tigh’s continued incarceration “for the good of the colony”?
Cavil grinned, an expression that managed to look simultaneously lecherous and patronizing. “That wife of his is quite a catch,” was all he would say.
Unexpectedly Caprica felt sickened. She had to walk away; it would not do to argue with the Council’s decision, however it had been made.
She found herself surreptitiously concealed behind a pillar when the gate was opened and Tigh strode out, his head held high, compensating for the bandage covering his right eye socket and his limp. Caprica watched with interest as a blonde-haired woman broke away from the crowd outside the detention cell and wrapped him in a desperate embrace.
The woman’s love for her husband was strong. Strong enough, Caprica deduced, that she would resort to using her body to win his freedom. How could one human’s love for another run that deeply? Humans were supposedly selfish, concerned only with their petty problems and uncaring enough that they would enslave an entire race and then slaughter members of that race without compunctions. And yet juxtaposed against that cold façade was the image of a wife willing to sacrifice everything for her husband. She was kissing him now, inquiring after his safety, and he was gazing upon her with a new sort of affection, and an enduring love.
Had Caprica experienced that love? Had Gaius loved her like that?
She doubted it.
But in that instant she knew she could not deliberately choose the side opposite from that of the humans. Such love was a beautiful and terrifying thing, so lovely and frightening that only her God could have designed it.
To pit herself against human beings was to pit herself against God’s love.
And Caprica Six was an Angel of God.