worsttraitorever | Mar. 6th, 2008

Mar. 6th, 2008

A. Poetry Man – Phoebe Snow
Talk to me some more
You don't have to go
You're the Poetry Man

It was the book that made all the difference. No one would have cared without the book. The working class, HIS class. The 'grass roots' class. He was one of 'THEM', see. Without the book, that wondrous book by Gaius Baltar, he wouldn't have stood a chance.

It was poetry, really. Music to their ears. Everything they wanted to hear. All they wanted to say, but couldn't. That which could upset the precious status quo. That which WOULD upset the ruling class. Adama. Roslin. All of Them.

It was genius on his part. Though he had denied his past for years, he embraced it now to identify with those that mattered. The Darlings of the Fleet thought they ran everything, but without those behind the scenes, those breaking their backs, those suffering and those drafting their babies, their children into the same horrendous conditions, well... they were nothing. Could DO nothing.

He sang a tune, wrote the words, became once again what they needed him to be. Another savior, another champion. He would survive and live to fight another day, just for them and only for them. No cause could be nobler in his eyes.

Gaius Baltar, son of Aerelon, would not falter. He was a Man of the People. THE man.

=============
Gaius Baltar
Battlestar Galactica
222 Words

"BUTTERFINGERS!"

Gaius stared across the wide [so small it was crushing] courtroom, absolutely boggled and stunned [not at all surprised, really] at the man seated [perched high] on his seat. He could feel the eyes of those around them volleying back and forth [boring a hole deep into the back of his brain], trying desperately to keep up with the shouting.

The man [boy, child, infant] that sat there with his smirk of satisfaction made Gaius ill. For one so practiced in the art of redirection [manipulation and deceit] as he was, the nausea made his stomach rock.

Lies, blatant and rancid, struck at his core. He, Gaius Baltar, was many things: Scientist, Ex-President, Hard worker [liar, deceiver, manipulator, critic,], but he was not a murderer. Of course, when one is the things listed, tacking on murder [mass genocide] is just a small leap, really. One the people are ready [and oh, so willing] to believe.

After all, who is more honest? The horrid President who did nothing right [whoring, drinking, lying] or his faithful right-hand man, who saw all?

In the end, the judge and jury are not the public [and yet they are]. The panel seated even higher than the perjurer look down and the disapproval are even greater in their eyes than in anyone else's.

Except his. When Gaius betrayed him first.

=========
Gaius Baltar
Battlestar Galactica
230 Words

He'd been found not guilty. Which, really, wasn't the same as innocent, but who was nitpicking that little detail? Certainly not Doctor Gaius Baltar! After all, he had great things to do, things to plan, places to go, people to greet, hands to shake and babies to kiss. He hadn't been elected President on his good looks and strong platform alone.

It spoke volumes, really, about the state of the PEOPLE that MR. Adama was willing to go to bat for him: supposedly the most hated man in the Fleet. And if MR. ADAMA could stand to be around him, then by the Gods, so could everyone else!

Polls! There were polls to take. Strategies to run. People to hire and plans to work out. And his two biggest advocates were standing front and center, ready to do their Master's bidding.

Ever benevolent, he praised them first, of course. No one wants to do what you ask if they're not feeling appreciated. A little groveling here, a little lip-service there, and he was ready to mention his book tour-

What? They weren't going to stay and help-

No, really. WHAT?! Who gives a damn about the 'Fleet's Legal System'?

Fine.

When all else fails, appeal to a humanitarian's... HIGHER sense.

... unless they don't have one.

=============
Gaius Baltar
Battlestar Galactica
225 Words

Danger strikes even when things aren't fine. Danger strikes whenever it frakking feels like it.

Do you see them? The Centurions? They haunt the streets and intimidate my people. *harsh laugh* MY people. They were never MY people, were they? Hell, ask THEM when danger strikes. I was the danger, it seems. It seems that I, Gaius Baltar, was the danger that struck when things were fine.

*takes a gulp of his drink*

Things were better than fine, right? New planet, new start? New president to go with and look at how things got all mucked up. I did the mucking.

[LOCKED]

It was just a FEW women and only a LITTLE drinking. Maybe a FEW cigars. But who wouldn't be celebratory for a week or two. Maybe a month... ish? Two? I had just won the PRESIDENCY. I was ENTITLED to be happy. Excited. And, like I said, CELEBRATORY. The mucking was unintentional. Then THEY were there and-

[/LOCKED]

*a long sigh*

Danger doesn't follow a set schedule. It strikes whenever it wants and gives a hot damn about reputations or plans or the weather. And usually brings with it overbearing mechanical beings with a severe lack of a sense of humor.

*another drink*

And those are the humanish ones.

==============
Gaius Baltar
Battlestar Galactica
230 Words
[from the 'New Caprica' era]

[OH-SO-VERY-VERY-PRIVATE]

Something about human nature that puzzles ME? You'll have to pardon me while I laugh a moment.

*lounges in the Presidential chair and lights up*

This. ALL of this. *waves his hand* Do you see? *runs his hand along the desk and sends it all flying* Me! I am the very puzzlement of human nature. Less than fifty thousand humans left in existence and they voted ME president!

*disheveled, drunk and now very distressed*

Me! *frantic laugh* And now they're here and it's all going- *points down with a pbbbbt-sound* Straight to hell, if you'll pardon the phrase. I mean, those people trusted me on what I said about that planet and then GINA- *manic laughter* Her plan to blow up Cloud 9? Brilliant, really. Led the Cylons straight to us. I mean, I couldn't have planned better self-sabotage. It was done for me, really.

Not my fault, right? I mean, who could blame me? I only wanted the best for the people and then- *eyes wide, looks around* They trusted me. Trust is the thing about human nature that puzzles me. No matter how many times you're burned, and believe me... you'd think annihalition would pretty much be the ultimate in trust breaker... you're always so ready to believe in the next person that says they've got YOUR best interests in mind.

*takes a drink*

Trust. Puzzles me to no end.

==========
Gaius Baltar
Battlestar Galactica
243 Words

Forty thousand samples. To be exact, forty-seven thousand, nine hundred five.

A little over eleven hours to test each sample.

That, for anyone paying close attention, equals a little over sixty years to complete the Cylon testing that Adama and Madam President want done.

Not including sleeping, eating… time to myself.

When you throw in those that want their samples done right frakking now, you end up with more problems than you could possibly imagine. Believe me.

You have the President wanting to test the Commander without his knowledge and the Commander wanting to test the Colonel’s long lost wife without the good Colonel’s knowledge. All in all, quite the fascinating time, especially when it all comes to a boil and the showdown erupts in your lab.

I can’t decide if sarcasm becomes me.

Needless to say, none of that was a good time for me. I mean, none of that was a good time for THEM. Of course. And since our main concern has to be for the good of the Colonial government and the Fleet as a whole, one does what they can to lighten the load of those higher up.

You round up the usual suspects.

With the higher-ups out of the way, the people could feel at ease with their leaders and really, that was all that mattered. What was one little Cylon model compared to the comfort of all involved?

PS: If you need more on THAT, please see my previous entry and any others that I may have written (or will write in the future) that center around my self-preservation. Honestly, I had no desire to see her Cylon programming hit ‘on’ early. And frankly, that was best for ME. And between you and me? That’s what I’m concerned about.

=============
Gaius Baltar
Battlestar Galactica
Word Count: 296

Dead? Me? Why would anyone want ME dead?

Of course, there was that whole pesky business on New Caprica, but, psh. Who counts that anymore, right? That whole near genocide, the death lists, the muck and mud... why would anyone possibly hold a grudge? Hell, who cares if all of that was even my fault?

Not that all the good chances are gone, I'm sure. There was the trial, and boy, did they try hard there, didn't you? Sure you did, starting with Butterfingers the Perjurer and moving right along to the Admiral who, by some odd knock on his conscience, managed to do the RIGHT thing. Had MADAME PRESIDENT had her way, I'm quite sure that I'd be floating alongside the myriad of flotsam and jetsam of space at this very moment.

I'm sure Captain Agathon regrets to this day giving up his seat on his Raptor and I have no doubt that if the rest of the crew of the Galactica found out about his sacrifice and how it led to his seduction by a *gasp* CYLON, I'd be blamed for that, too.

Why wouldn't they all want me dead?

They missed a good chance in leaving me behind on Caprica. In the trial. In leaving me on the planet in the Temple. When it came to the Basestar. In not executing me when I was President.

The list goes on and on. I have no doubt that more than one of them mentally kicks themselves nightly as they tuck themselves into bed.

I'm sure more chances will come available. Just remember that God has a plan. I am a part of God's plan.

Maybe we all are.

===========
Gaius Baltar
Battlestar Galactica
297 Words