arrow_of_apollo: (Soldier | Battlestar Pegasus)
2009.26.A.5 - He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. ~Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil

OOC: Set during episode 2x17, "The Captain's Hand"

As I walk down Pegasus' corridors, I can feel it more than see it, but there's not escaping the fact: these people don't trust me.

They are too disciplined to wear it on their sleeves, of course. Throughout her command, Admiral Cain had drummed it into everyone aboard this ship that between uniforms, strict and utterly professional military protocol was to be observed at all times. When I speak to them, it's like they're made of stone. The pilots recount the details of every sortie, the technicians catalog every last functioning circuit and even the deck crew stands at parade attention when I come close.

Outsider )

arrow_of_apollo: (Civilian | Speaking To Quorum)
2009.23.3.D - Parliament

OOC: Canon during 4x03, "The Ties That Bind"

They were all staring at me. Lee Adama, no longer Captain or Major or Commander Lee Adama, but just citizen Lee Adama of the Colonies. Although, when you think about it, that's a pretty strange thing for a person to consider themselves these days, a citizen of the Twelve Colonies, since there aren't any to speak of. But as a citizen, at least legally, of Caprica, I was eligible to be sitting down at that table with all those other people staring at me.

The Distinguished Gentleman )

arrow_of_apollo: (Either | Swimming A Place of Quiet)
2009.18.B.3 - Hallucinations

When I was shot down during the Battle of the Resurrection Ship, I had a hallucination. I was strapped to my seat, the broken bits of the Blackbird floating in space around me, and I was drifting fifty klicks away from the heat of the fighting. From my vantage point, I could watch the whole thing-- the space between Galactica, Pegasus and the Cylon Resurrection Ship turned into a burst beehive of furious movement.

At the same time, some of the shrapnel, some shattered bit of my ship, had cut through the leg of my flight suit, robbing me of oxygen by slow painful degrees. I'm pretty sure I was conscious most of the time, but I wasn't really there, either.

Contains spoilers for the series finale, 'Daybreak' parts 1 & 2 )

arrow_of_apollo: (Soldier | Frustrated)
2009.15.A.3 - Scenario: You have to mount a strategic rescue operation.

OOC Note: Normally, the Lee I write in this community is an AU, but with this topic, I couldn't resist the opportunity to write a response from canon. So, this response takes only show canon into account.

Contains spoilers through the series finale )

arrow_of_apollo: (Civilian | Look over shoulder)
2009.11.A.5 - Song Lyrics - "Baker Street", Gerry Rafferty

This city desert makes you feel so cold
It’s got so many people but it’s got no soul

We were here for three weeks before I realized it.

Three weeks of work, of sweat and strain and exhaustion. The emergency shelters were first, half-cylinder huts made out of collapsible titanium ribs and heavy plastic skin. We leveled ground and turn blasted fields of rubble into landing strips. Massive generators were flown down, and are still providing half of our power, burning through our precious tylium stores because we still haven't come across any decent locations for geothermal energy.

After three weeks, the shelters had been joined by small, squat gray blocks made out of a kind of homebrew concrete that some crewman who used to be a contractor came up with. Beyond that mix of what you could barely call buildings were where people had tried to set up living spaces in what was left of burned-out buildings.

By that time, most of the people still ate at the long metal tables in the communal mess area in the center of this encampment, this new home of ours. They walked up to the chow line, heads bowed, and stayed that way until they scraped their plates into the reclamation buckets and stacked the trays.

Conversations were kept to a bare minimum. The whole world had been eerily quiet when we'd first landed on Earth, and it seemed like no one wanted to break it. I don't know if there was a fear we'd jinx things and the other Cylon faction would find us or if we'd somehow scare up something that had been left behind here.

Every face I saw wore a similar expression: weariness. No matter if it was a human or a Cylon, we were all so tired. We are all so tired. This is the place we live, though it's hard to call it home. This is where we've come to be, where we've stopped running, because we can't run anymore. But it just doesn't feel like our world.

It was three weeks in when I realized that our place here, our encampment, our town... didn't even have a name.

arrow_of_apollo: (Civilian | Red Shirt | Hands on Hips)
2009.5.B.2 - "Remember this: once the human race is established on more than one planet and especially, in more than one solar system, there is no way now imaginable to kill off the human race." Robert Heinlein

Well, the human race is certainly putting that idea to the test, isn't it?

I suppose the author has a point, not that I think he ever envisioned it truly being put to the test the way it had on the Twelve Colonies. If all of humanity had still been located on a single world, the way it had been while on Kobol, then we would all have been vaporized in the initial Cylon attack.

As it was, the billions of Colonial citizens that comprised the whole of the human race-- at least as far as any of us knew-- were decimated down to a little more than fifty thousand survivors in the space of less than a day.

Still, fifty thousand isn't zero. The Cylons had taken their best shot, but between our determination and our desperation, a tiny percentage of the species was able to make its escape. Further Cylon attacks and unavoidable attrition have brought that number down to under forty thousand, and it looks as though things won't be getting any better.

We had all hoped that Earth would be our last stop, and that the running would finally be over. There were dreams that we would be welcomed by our distant cousins and be embraced back into a living, breathing human society. Hell, we would have been happy with just a living, breathing planet to settle on and begin the work of re-establishing the human race.

It wasn't to be. Earth was devastated-- lifeless and inhospitable, to say the least.

Now, the remnants of humanity have to limp on and find a new home, but I guess as long as we're limping and not laying down, we're still proving the author right.

arrow_of_apollo: (Civilian | Speaking To Quorum)
2009.1.A.5 - You walk out of your home, or your business, and are mobbed by a crowd who are protesting something you do or are. How would you deal with that?

As much as I'd like to say I've got no clue how that might feel, but I'm part of the government. Any given decision I happen to make is bound to make at least a few dozen of my constituents angry, and that's plenty of mob for anyone.

Politics )



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October 2009

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