arrow_of_apollo: (Civilian | Working)
Full circle. A lot of things had a tendency to circle around, Lee was beginning to realize, and very rarely in a good way. The whole "all of this has happened before, all of this will happen again" stuff was starting to get really frakking annoying, especially because it kept costing the fleet and the human race lives, time and everything else it could take.

With the strange political arrangement he had with President Roslin, Lee was constantly splitting his time between Colonial One and Galactica, so to conserve on Raptor fuel, he'd been assigned quarters on board the battlestar. Even though he'd volunteered to take a simple rack, the Admiral had insisted he get a junior officer's locker. Lee suspected it was partly, even if unconsciously, a message that he wasn't a soldier anymore, and didn't get to live like one.

That godsdamned circle had also brought back Ellen Tigh-- the final Cylon, as if the gods didn't already obviously have a frakking twisted sense of humor-- and the Eight model he'd met as Boomer, the one who'd nearly murdered Lee's father. And now, one more time, Boomer had betrayed them, stealing the Agathons' child, Hera, the only living human-Cylon hybrid.

Lee was reading the report on Boomer's escape, cursing quietly when a knock sounded at the hatch to his quarters. With nobody expected at this hour, Lee rose and approached the hatch. A sidearm he wasn't technically supposed to own was within reach. "Marines?" he called out to the guards stationed outside the hatch.

"We're here, Mr. Vice-President," came the confident reply. "Lieutenant Agathon is requesting to see you. Code is Nebula Three Victor," the Marine added, giving Lee the all-clear signal. Lee sighed. Sharon. She was going to be a mess, so he could only hope he could help.

"Let her in," Lee ordered, then stepped back from the heavy hatch.
arrow_of_apollo: (Either | Drinking Our Love I Don't Know)
Four months ago (Gods, he thought, has it only been four months?), when Lee had moved into this cabin aboard Colonial One, he had looked at the small space and decided that while it wasn't the familiar locker he'd shared onboard the Galactica with Dee, it was a hell of a lot roomier than a even an officer's rack, so things couldn't be that bad. And although he had come to feel comfortable with the space, it had never become a home. It felt even less like one now.

Lee felt a hot, wet tear roll down his face and he wiped at it angrily. He couldn't count the number he'd shed in the last twelve hours, every one of them searing, every one of them painful. Part of him wondered if he was mourning more than just a person, he was mourning everything she had meant to him-- more importantly, the things she had given him.

Even when they weren't together, even when Lee knew she was furious with him, Dee had always been a kind of beacon of hope. Not just for him, but for everyone aboard the battlestar, his father especially. Her faith in Admiral Adama had been unwavering, and her belief that Lee was a good man meant for great things just as firm. She had believed when they had not.

And now she was dead, because she had lost that faith, and had those beliefs shattered. The wasted, blasted Earth had broken all of them, but Anastasia Dualla had had the furthest to fall.

Lee reached again for the bottle of ambrosia-- a gift from Colonel Tigh, of all people, who had handed it over without comment-- just as a knock sounded on the hatch of his quarters. He was confused for a moment until he remembered that someone from Galactica would be arriving with Dee's personal effects. Still gripping the half-empty bottle, knowing he would need its help, Lee rose and opened the hatch.
arrow_of_apollo: (Either | Conflicted | Wedding Ring)
OOC: Completed RP with [ profile] number_eight, [ profile] burnandrave, [ profile] cylon_prophet, & [ profile] notmyfate. Takes place in the AU Future!Earth universe. Cross-posted to same.

Kara was dressed in her uniform for the first time in several weeks. It felt strange after so much time in civilian clothes, but she found she was glad to put it on. Kara was a soldier, and while she'd always been a bit unpredictable, there were aspects to military life she enjoyed. The familiarity of something as simple as dress was actually somewhat welcome at the moment, when her entire life felt like it was in such upheaval.

Despite everything that had happened--finding Earth, defeating the Cylons--Kara had to fight back the feeling of impending doom, as if it was all going to be snatched away from her. She was pretty sure it wasn't just her--she wasn't the only one who went outside at night and stared at the night sky, wondering if any of the cold lights above marked the approach of a Cylon basestar--but, as with everything, Kara felt it with an intensity that left her occasionally moody and tense. Having something to do that wasn't working on the house or painting, it was good for her. She'd been nervous about getting her orders, but she shouldn't have been; as she'd thought, the Admiral had told her that she'd be flying a few recon missions, doing some routine patrols in her Viper, but that her primary job would be training new recruits.

Are you grounding me, Sir? she'd asked, standing at attention, not entirely sure if her smile was genuine or forced. It was hard to tell, sometimes, even for her.

I'm giving you a chance to live your life, Adama had said in his gravel-rough voice. you've chosen to live it.

She should have expected that. Her domestic arrangements weren't a secret, after all, and she knew it wasn't going to be easy when she went back to work. Everyone had an opinion, and she was pretty sure she was going to hear about it.

Kara had saluted without saying a word. She pushed back the old longing she had, that desperateness for the Admiral's approval, and had simply taken her orders without comment. (There was a first time for everything, after all.) On her way out of the building that housed the provisional government, she saw a familiar figure ahead of her. Smiling, Kara rushed to catch him, forgetting for a moment everything that lay between them. "Hey, Lee. Or do I have to call you Mr. Vice President, now?" Kara teased, falling into step beside him.

Lee and Kara re-connect, Sam & Leoben are domestically cute with Kara, a surprise dinner is had, and Sharon confesses to Kara that she's having an affair with Lee... )
arrow_of_apollo: (Annoyed)
The official notice reads:



Judge Advocate General's Office

In light of the findings of Major Lee Adama, and in accordance with the discretion granted by the Commanding Officer, the following summary punishment(s) are hereby meted out:

For various counts of violating Colonial Fleet military regulations (please see attached notes for specifics), the following are hereby ordered to report to the brig immediately, and are to be detained for a period of no more and no less than seventy-two hours:


Provisions will be made for the care of Specialist Tyrol's and Lieutenant Agathon's children by their respective spouses.

Major Lee Adama, CFR
Under authority of Colonial Fleet Command.

Off the record: there's the end of it, all right? You have three days. Sit down, cool off, and I don't want to hear about this again.

OOC: So there you go. While I, the mun, have found the whole process fascinating, as I'm sure you all have, the Major here on the other hand, has decided that the best idea is to send 'em all to hack and be done with it (thanks for the idea and thumbs up from Bill!mun). Kudos to all for some very interesting stuff.
arrow_of_apollo: (Dress Uniform Alone)
The official document states:



Judge Advocate General's Office

In accordance with Colonial Fleet regulations, CREWMAN SPECIALIST CALLY TYROL has been duly charged with the crime of INSUBORDINATION.

Details of charge: Specialist Tyrol did knowingly and willingly fail to show proper respect of rank and commission towards flight officer Lieutenant Sharon Agathon by means of a journal entry. This journal entry was posted publicly viewable by almost the entirety of the ship's crew, including Lt. Agathon. Within this entry, Specialist Tyrol did impugn the reputation and defame the personality of Lt. Agathon with malicious intent.

Actions taken: Due to the highly sensitive and public nature of the incident, Major Lee Adama, Commander of the Air Group, has taken primary role in this matter, by order and consent of Admiral William Adama, CO Galactica. The Crewman's direct superior, Chief Petty Officer Galen Tyrol, will be expected to assist in the dispensing of any disciplinary action.

I will now hear from the involved parties regarding this incident.

OOC: This friendly neighborhood disciplinary notice brought to you with the rubber stamp of approval from [ profile] admiral_adama, just to make it official.


arrow_of_apollo: (Default)

October 2009

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