TM 219 - Headlines
Feb. 26th, 2008 11:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arrow_of_apollo219 - Headlines
Battlestar Galactica to be Decommissioned
It was the lead story in the Fleet newsletter a month before the Cylon attack. I was actually on leave, sitting in a sidewalk cafe on Picon and sipping my coffee, trying very hard not to look like a soldier on leave. In retrospect, I was doing a horrible job, considering my reading material, but I guess that's not even the littlest bit important now.
Reading through the article, it was clear that this was a decision Fleet brass had had in the works for some time, which meant that my father had probably known in advance that his ship was about to get turned into a flying museum.
That he hadn't told me about it wasn't a surprise. To call our relationship "strained" would have been a kindness. On the day I read the article, I probably hadn't spoken with my father in any way for longer than I could remember. In contrast, I'd spoken to my mother Carolanne just a week before that day on Picon. Not that we were exactly a picturesque mother and son, but at least we were speaking.
I imagined how it must have chafed my father so, being told that he was soon to be commanding nothing more than a giant prop, a massive display model intended to teach school children about the way things used to be and how they used to look. Never again would Galactica cruise between Colonies, never chase down another pack of Tauron smugglers, never launch another Viper.
And then I wondered just what Commander William Adama had done that would have pissed off the Admiralty enough that they were willing to mothball him along with his boat.
I'd shook my head. Galactica was a relic, something to be recognized for its exceptional service record and its history, but the present belonged to state-of-the-art vessels, like the Valkyrie- and Mercury-class battlestars. If the Colonial Fleet had decided that the same went for my father, then it wasn't my place to contradict them.
I know now how very, very wrong they were.
(344)
It was the lead story in the Fleet newsletter a month before the Cylon attack. I was actually on leave, sitting in a sidewalk cafe on Picon and sipping my coffee, trying very hard not to look like a soldier on leave. In retrospect, I was doing a horrible job, considering my reading material, but I guess that's not even the littlest bit important now.
Reading through the article, it was clear that this was a decision Fleet brass had had in the works for some time, which meant that my father had probably known in advance that his ship was about to get turned into a flying museum.
That he hadn't told me about it wasn't a surprise. To call our relationship "strained" would have been a kindness. On the day I read the article, I probably hadn't spoken with my father in any way for longer than I could remember. In contrast, I'd spoken to my mother Carolanne just a week before that day on Picon. Not that we were exactly a picturesque mother and son, but at least we were speaking.
I imagined how it must have chafed my father so, being told that he was soon to be commanding nothing more than a giant prop, a massive display model intended to teach school children about the way things used to be and how they used to look. Never again would Galactica cruise between Colonies, never chase down another pack of Tauron smugglers, never launch another Viper.
And then I wondered just what Commander William Adama had done that would have pissed off the Admiralty enough that they were willing to mothball him along with his boat.
I'd shook my head. Galactica was a relic, something to be recognized for its exceptional service record and its history, but the present belonged to state-of-the-art vessels, like the Valkyrie- and Mercury-class battlestars. If the Colonial Fleet had decided that the same went for my father, then it wasn't my place to contradict them.
I know now how very, very wrong they were.
(344)
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no subject
Date: 2008-02-26 09:20 pm (UTC)We were all upset.I'd call it luck, but I'd like to believe that God had a hand in saving everyone.
no subject
Date: 2008-02-26 11:22 pm (UTC)I can imagine.Someone must have. If they attack had come just a day or two later, Galactica would have been helpless.
no subject
Date: 2008-02-28 09:33 pm (UTC)How very wrong YOU were.
no subject
Date: 2008-02-29 07:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-28 10:55 pm (UTC)That first conversation was like a blast of icy wind in my face. He was courteous and civilized, of course, the very model of an outstanding Fleet commander.
It was a very, very good thing that he ignored nearly everything I had to say during that first meeting. Though I'd appreciate it if you kept that to yourself.
no subject
Date: 2008-02-29 07:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-04 03:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-06 08:03 pm (UTC)