Like a moving reel with missing clips, the memory replays in Jarrod's mind--while simultaneously experiencing out-of-body moments.

Once the blood-stained wave blade jabbed through his torso, right through his lower intestines, his face gave a look of both surprised pain and shock. A deep and silent gasp quickly filled his lungs. The olive-green eyes went wide as Jarrod not once let his eyes move away from Johnathan's also-surprised look.

"Find Renne....and...and run. Away....from here."

"I will take care of this. Now go!"

Watching Johnathan run off into the distance, Jarrod pierced down the tip of the wave-blade onto the dock's boards as he leaned against the hilt for support while keeping ahold of his lower stomach area; trying his best to keep pressure on the wound that Johnathan created by placing the sword in him.

But unfortunately, that did not work for very long. Sliding down the wave-blade, Jarrod laid on docking boards stomach up--with the sword falling directly beside him. Lazily looking about, he saw the dead and eyeball-gutted men near him. What seemed like forever to Jarrod, he was only laying there for a good ten minutes.

"I know you hurt too...but...what else can...can we do. Tor--tormented and torn...a-par..."

His voice started to fade off to nothing as his eyes started to get heavier.

"Oi! I think I found the suspect!"

Sounding so faint and so far. Maybe that is all Jarrod needs. Some sleep. There was a vague haze of something rather blurry directly overhead; but nothing phased Jarrod--for he fell into complete unconscious.

What felt like just merely ten seconds of sleep to Jarrod was something different. He could not breathe, like swimming but cannot surface. Finally feeling his head a draft, he quickly bolted up his head and gasped for air. What he saw and felt was something completely out of the ordinary.

Sure it was a pool--more like a bathtub--of a warm-yet-cool light pink goo that Jarrod was in...naked. The area was completely black, but had bright red lines that were blinking and yet unusual symbols that roamed about the room. Finally, three Humans showed up. One was of a blonde woman, slim-fitting along with the pearl-white dress that hugged her body. Another was of an elder gent that seemed to be wearing a priest's undergarments but had a fedora upon his head. And the last was of a professional looking gent. The blonde lady looked down at Jarrod with sincerity as she gently caressed the goo-filled hair.

"Do not worry. What you have felt always happens the first time."

Her voice was soothing and yet had a seductive sound to it.

"What...am I doing here?"

Jarrod soon enough realized that he was not feeling any pain. More of confusion than anything else. Continuing to look about to soak in everything, the elder gent spoke.

"You are the first of your model. The others are still in the process of downloading themselves."

His voice was raspy and a little frog-like--as if one too many cigars was passed through his lungs.

"Model? What am I?"

"Technically Model Thirteen. But there has been a mishap. So..."

"You are Model Three. The second in the series."

"What happened to the first?"

And the three Humans went silent as they looked up to eachother for a moment. The professional-looking gent finally spoke.

"That had some flaws in the programming system. The fixing seemed irrelevant."

"But how can you tell that I do not have flaws?"

"Shhhh. All will be known in due time. Just relax for now."

The lady continued to sooth out Jarrod's hair as he relaxed himself in the bathtub of goo. Breathing in deeply, he slowly closed the olive-green eyes of his.

Vaguely hearing the beep, Jarrod slowly opened his eyes to find the hazy gaze seeing some things that were familiar to him. The walls were the same. The room was the same. Being patched up to a monitor and his hand linked to two bags via tubes. One was of blood that flowed from a bag into his veins near the pit of the forearm and elbow. The other was of a clear liquid that flowed from a bag into his veins on the top bit of his hand. Soon enough, there was a blurred form of something that towered over Jarrod's body.

"How ya feelin' thar, Jarrod?"

"Like I pricked myself with a rather sharp sword. Wait. ...Gaston?"

And sure enough, it was. And since Gaston is the Head-Warden in the Holding Houses in Port South; that led Jarrod to only one thing.

"Allowin' the nurses and docs in the cells seemed not suitable. So I let them have the spare office while someone watches guard 'round the clock."

Jarrod would have nodded, but that might have made him naucious, so he gave that look to Gaston. He then blinked as he gave Gaston an inquisitive look.

"Do ya know a lovely-looking lady. Short curly blonde hair. Piercing eyes. A soothing yet seductive kind of voice?"

"Can't say that I do. But if ya see her again, send her my way. I'll check back on ya in an hour."

Jarrod went silent at that point. He soon enough stared up at the ceiling and reviewed on the little interlude that happened within the bathtub of goo.

"Model Three? Downloading?"

The look of confusion returned to his face as he gave a deep and silent sigh as he eyes scanned back and forth at the ceiling; in hopes that his memories would give him better answers to this riddle.



~Thank Adalia-Mun's Playable for the inspiration of the Time-Hiccup. Also thank this Mun for watching WAY too much Battlestar Galactica for the inspiration of the location of Time-Hiccup.~

?Heh. First that blue critta. Now this! Well. Come on, you old kook. Time to get those writin? mussals workin? again.?

The elderly lady slowly rose up from her home-office and stretched out a bit. She may seem old, but she has yet to lose her wits. And she is not going to lose this story. The possible return of the Dockside Killer. Grabbing the long coat over her small body, she checked to make sure that her trusty pad of paper and the pen were in the pockets; which they were. With that, Ada Huchinson was out the door.

?Yes. I am certain. I even asked the warden there to check.?

?And you are still in the cells right now as we speak??

?Yes. Still stuck there. At least I know how it felt when Renne was in there.?

?The non-Human??

Jarrod nodded at that. It seemed like where they were the bridge of the ship he continuously stayed on. Unusual red scriptures that were a cross between ancient writing and some futuristic writings that looked like it was strolling in mid-air. Watching Caprica, the blonde lady, Jarrod sighed as he looked down to the flat counter-top that also had similar ancient/futuristic scrolling within it. Knitting his eyebrows in confusion, it seemed like he knew what they meant, but could not explain what they were.

?Caprica. When will we know that the coordinates are correct??

"Soon. For now. Go back and keep an eye out. We will see you soon."

"Don you tell me when I can and cannot see that man! I am here to get my interview."

"Alright, Madam Ada. He is in Cell Four. He has been a bit odd lately. Askin' me of celestial coordination and nautical as well. But go on 'head."

Going into the cell areas of the holding houses in Port South, Ada went over to Cell Four and looked inside. Watching the sleeping Jarrod, she blinked and grunted a bit.

"Ya better be up next time I come back here."

With that, she gave him a stern eye as she said no more and went right back out of the Holding Houses. It will be yet another night to get her interview. But regardless, she will.

Though Dr. Jarrod Beckett was in the Cells for the next six months, Gaston still treated like a person to talk to?knowing full-well that it was not Jarrod who did the murders; but since the case is closed and the Courts already ruled the punishment, he had no say-so.

Leaning against the Holding Cell?s doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, he watched Jarrod who was relaxing upon the bed with his back against the wall.

?So what are ya gonna do after the Six Months are up??

?Either go back home. Or travel. Have yet to figure out. There is nothing for me here now.?

?Do ya think that the girl and the blue-one will come back here for ya??

Jarrod looked up to Gaston at that. His heart had hope, but Jarrod knew better than that.

?Possible. But nothing will be the same. Are ya going to do anything to her if she does??

?Unless the crewmates from the ships that lost their men demand better punishment, the Courts have said their dues and I cannot pursue. She is an odd one. No wonder why those two were made for eachother.?

With that, Gaston stood up straight and walked backwards a little bit and closed the door to Holding Cell #4; leaving Jarrod, once again, alone.

?All that you have done for her and she cannot find a place in her heart for you? Only for the critter??

Jarrod?s olive green eyes blinked as they looked around the cell curiously. He was not back on the Cylon ship, like he should have been. The voice was oh-so familiar to there.

?It is a tradition in her culture to have only one love.?

?And what happened to the other lovers who passed on? Did they still love that dead one? Or did they move on??

?I do not know. And how come I am not back on the ship? And where is Caprica??

There was a bit of silence before the voice spoke again.

?Caprica is currently busy and your bio-neural motivational wires are kind of going a little ca-ca.?

? ?Ca-ca?? Well that?s one?s a new one. So we can hear eachother but not see eachother??

?Uh. Right. Even after she has done, you still have feelings for her, correct??

??I do. That is why I am truly hoping for them not to come back until after I leave for good. Is there a way where I can just stay in the future??

Again. Another bit of silence.

?We will work on that.?