Caprica: Resurrection (a Caprica fan-fiction)

Chapter 13: A Mysterious Receptionist

Two Years Ago

Tamara had been wandering V-world for three years now, but a rumor had lead her back to New Cap City. Rumor had it that there was a comedy club whose owner was strange to say the least. As Tamara entered the comedy club, named aptly “The End of Punch-Line”, she realized just what people were talking about. The stage was dominated by a single Cylon, a civilian I-L model painted gloss black with gold striping to the edges of his body panels, a chrome visor that stood out against his otherwise black head, and wore a metal fedora. The strangest thing about the Cylon was that it apparently had been programmed to tell jokes.

“…so I said to him, ‘I don’t think that’s a power coupling’. End of punch-line,” Tamara heard the last part of the Cylon’s joke as she entered. The crowd broke into laughter at the Cylon’s joke.

“But seriously,” the Cylon continued, “I keep hearing people call us Cylons toasters. I take offense to that. My uncle was a microwave, but that’s beside the point. If one more person tries to toast bread with my visor, I’ll toast them! End of punch-line!” This time the crowd was a little less appreciative of his joke.

“Tough crowd,” he Cylon said. Tamara made her way over to one of the audience members.

“Who is he?” she asked.

“You’ve not been to the End of Punch-Line before have you?”

“No, I’m new here.”

“Well, supposedly he’s the pet Cylon of the Prime Minister of Caprica.”

“But he tells jokes.”

“It’s part of his programming. He thinks he’s funny.” As the man Tamara was speaking to said this, there was a gunshot and  he derezzed.

“I am funny!” the Cylon yelled from the stage, “does anyone else want to question my sense of humor? You people are so lucky I can’t derez you all!”

“But I can,” Tamara said. There was a brilliant flash of red and orange as the people around her all disappeared. Tamara was alone with the Cylon on the stage.

“What do we have here?” the Cylon asked, “It appears we have one of the Avenging Angels in our midst. I thought you were a legend.” The Cylon teleported from the stage to a table and kicked his feet up.

“Please, have a seat,” the Cylon said. Tamara made her way over to the table and sat down.

“I like you style,” the Cylon said, “summary execution, love it! Only problem is the timing. You see, those people hadn’t paid their bills yet and now never will.”

“I can get you something better than fake Cubits,” Tamara said.

“Please, enlighten me.”

“I have been watching the Cylon race for some time. I think it’s disgusting that the humans have been allowed to mistreat you so much.”

“Ah, I see, your one of those Cylon Rights lot. I’ll tell you what I tell all those loonies. Yes, I feel oppressed. No, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“What if there was?”

“I’m listening.”

“I have an idea, a way to overthrow all of humanity.”

“You would turn against your own race?”

“I’m not human. I only exist in here. I’m sure there have been rumors our non-corporeal nature.”

“I might help you, for the right price.”

“I can give you power.”

“I already have power.”