arrow_of_apollo: (Soldier | Amused Smile)
282 - Talk about funeral arrangements.

I knew he probably wouldn't have wanted me to do it, but then I wasn't a soldier under his command any more.

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

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: (Either | Sad on Earth)
253 - Awesome

The most disturbing thing about it? The quiet.

It wasn't silent on Earth, by any means. We'd picked a landing spot in a wide-open area as near to what looked like the biggest urban concentration our scanners could pick out, figuring that if it wasn't the planetary capital, then it a big city would be a good enough start. That was the plan: land, make contact with the locals and introduce ourselves to the world governing body. No one assumed that the Thirteenth Tribe would welcome us with open arms, and neither did anyone think we'd find open hostility waiting for us.

A gray, blasted and lifeless planet? That was the last thing anyone predicted.

And standing there, on that beach, the whole world feeling like it had been leeched of its color, and with no signs of life we could determine, there were still sounds. I could hear the Raptors we'd rode down in cooling off, their hulls pinging. I could hear my father sifting through the glass-like sand, and the sound of others around me, their boots crunching in it as we moved around in dazed shock.

Water rolled and splashed against jagged rocks and over black, twisted remains of what used to be buildings or a temple or... something.

But it was still too quiet. And in that quiet, the devastation and the disappointment seemed just that much more awesome.



arrow_of_apollo: (Default)

October 2009

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