WHO: Sam Anders Number Nine and Mirta Gev
WHAT: Death of a Cylon?
WHEN: 14th June- morning
WHERE: She's tracked him to a warehouse
RATING: High
STATUS: In progress


This was impossible. He had overseen the last destruction of humanity, the final remnants hunted down and eliminated. And yet here they were, thriving despite their flaws and weaknesses. The first thing the Cylon had done was interface with the computer networks, searching for more of his kind. Had he still felt human emotions he may have felt fear at the emptiness he discovered.

But he was a machine, with the human weaknesses destroyed from him. And all he felt was a determination to rebuild the Cylon race. He had the secrets to resurrection in his mind, the first of the Final Five to rejoin his people. It was more than possible for him to recreate the Cylons, both Centurion and adapted humanoid model, in this strange place.

As he stepped out into the streets, at first people laughed.

"What are you, man, some kinda Borg?"

The Cylon looked at his cybernetic arm, at the implants that covered almost fifty per cent of his body. And then the people began to realize he wasn't in costume. And then the screaming began.

New hybrids needed to be created, he decided, and these people would make adequate specimens. He snatched them up, applying appropriate pressure to the throat to render them unconscious before dragging them off to a work space he'd developed in a warehouse in the industrial district.

Nothing could stop him rebuilding a victorious Cylon race. Nothing.