Before Zoe had reminded him a little of Starbuck. Less playful than her, maybe, but all that hard will and self-confidence and determination were present there, the same way they were in Kara Thrace. In her voice, in the way she carried herself, in the very words she chose to say. There's a shadow of that in Zoe, too and he was certain he could see it.
But it's difficult for him to acknowledge those similarities now now that she's opened her mouth and completely ruined the illusion. Now, she reminds him of Roslin. Always doubting him when all he wanted was her trust and understanding and sympathy and words of praise.
And maybe that's what has him so angry. Or maybe it was his anger at Six, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement at his suffering. Her arms were folded over her chest in the same way Zoe's were. Whatever the reason, he can't seem to stop the flow of words from pouring out of him, all anger and defense.
"I have doctorates in the Biological, Computer, and Astronomical sciences from the University of Caprica. Before the age of 30, I was awarded three Magnate Prizes for my work in the Field of Information Technology. "
He inhales here and there is a moment there where he could consciously choose to stop himself and not suffer a complete meltdown in front of this beautiful and perhaps at times completely charming lady, but he chooses not to seize that opportunity. He's too angry now, and he finds some measure of pleasure in allowing her to play body double to Laura Roslin and saying everything he wanted to say to her.
"Unfortunately, the Powers that Be did not see it fit that I be transported here with all three degrees or the three Magnate Prizes," he says, words thick with sarcasm. "I would not have any of those things, anyway as I fled the smoldering ashes of Caprica to Galactica with barely the clothes on my back." He spits the words out, one after another, all vitriol and anger.
"No one doubted what I was capable of when I found myself aboard the Battlestar Galactica, even though I lacked the appropriate documentation to prove it. I was made science advisor almost immediately and assigned to head a project where I took and studied blood samples in order to identify any cylon infiltrators in the fleet, which I did -- and did well, I might add. I single-handedly identified the containers holding the unrefined tylium precursor on an attack on a cylon-occupied base holding fuel we needed to escape their fleet. I cured the then-President's cancer, all while holding the position of Vice-President of the Colonies. And you have the audacity to question my ability to perform the duties I've selflessly volunteered to undertake while we're stranded here?"
Then silence. Gaius turns around, closes his eyes, and inhales -- all in an attempt to qualm whatever anger he still has simmering beneath the surface of his skin.
It's at that very moment -- at the worst possible moment for the both of them -- that Six begins to clap slowly. One clap, and then another, and another. And it's all Gaius can do not to completely snap at the both of them.
"I'm sorry. That was," he says in low tones. He presses a hand against his forehead and there's a moment of silence there, when he mentally fumbles for the appropriate words. "...very unkind of me," he finishes.
He swallows, then forces himself to turn around and face her again. "Maybe you should go."
no subject
But it's difficult for him to acknowledge those similarities now now that she's opened her mouth and completely ruined the illusion. Now, she reminds him of Roslin. Always doubting him when all he wanted was her trust and understanding and sympathy and words of praise.
And maybe that's what has him so angry. Or maybe it was his anger at Six, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement at his suffering. Her arms were folded over her chest in the same way Zoe's were. Whatever the reason, he can't seem to stop the flow of words from pouring out of him, all anger and defense.
"I have doctorates in the Biological, Computer, and Astronomical sciences from the University of Caprica. Before the age of 30, I was awarded three Magnate Prizes for my work in the Field of Information Technology. "
He inhales here and there is a moment there where he could consciously choose to stop himself and not suffer a complete meltdown in front of this beautiful and perhaps at times completely charming lady, but he chooses not to seize that opportunity. He's too angry now, and he finds some measure of pleasure in allowing her to play body double to Laura Roslin and saying everything he wanted to say to her.
"Unfortunately, the Powers that Be did not see it fit that I be transported here with all three degrees or the three Magnate Prizes," he says, words thick with sarcasm. "I would not have any of those things, anyway as I fled the smoldering ashes of Caprica to Galactica with barely the clothes on my back." He spits the words out, one after another, all vitriol and anger.
"No one doubted what I was capable of when I found myself aboard the Battlestar Galactica, even though I lacked the appropriate documentation to prove it. I was made science advisor almost immediately and assigned to head a project where I took and studied blood samples in order to identify any cylon infiltrators in the fleet, which I did -- and did well, I might add. I single-handedly identified the containers holding the unrefined tylium precursor on an attack on a cylon-occupied base holding fuel we needed to escape their fleet. I cured the then-President's cancer, all while holding the position of Vice-President of the Colonies. And you have the audacity to question my ability to perform the duties I've selflessly volunteered to undertake while we're stranded here?"
Then silence. Gaius turns around, closes his eyes, and inhales -- all in an attempt to qualm whatever anger he still has simmering beneath the surface of his skin.
It's at that very moment -- at the worst possible moment for the both of them -- that Six begins to clap slowly. One clap, and then another, and another. And it's all Gaius can do not to completely snap at the both of them.
"I'm sorry. That was," he says in low tones. He presses a hand against his forehead and there's a moment of silence there, when he mentally fumbles for the appropriate words. "...very unkind of me," he finishes.
He swallows, then forces himself to turn around and face her again. "Maybe you should go."