TM 235 - Show us where you live
Jun. 20th, 2008 11:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arrow_of_apollo235 - Show us where you live
Lee knew when they offered him the new cabin that the Quorum had given up on seeing Laura Roslin again. Maybe they would tell their constituents and the media that they would never stop hoping that the rogue Cylon baseship carrying President Roslin could be found intact, and that she would return to resume her leadership of the fleet, but Lee knew it wasn't true. Not when they started insisting that the President of the Colonies, even a pro tempore President, should occupy the main living suite aboard Colonial One.
He refused.
Looking around the small, featureless cabin that had been his home since leaving Galactica, he had to wonder if he was actually a little insane. It measured perhaps eight feet by ten feet, and while it wasn't like he was sleeping in a single rack, sharing the locker with a dozen other people, it still felt small. Then again, he'd gotten used to some pretty comfortable accommodations.
His and Dee's quarters on Galactica had been one of the spacious lockers reserved for families and command-level officers. It was at least twice the size of the cabin he had now, with the bed set into a recess on the far wall. There was a central table for both eating and working, with another working area toward the side that other couples like the Agathons and the Tyrols used for cribs and baby supplies.
There had even been a small vanity off in the corner-- just a sink, a mirror and a small shelf or two, but it meant that Lee hadn't had to fight for a spot on the long, trough-like common sink in the shared head down the corridor, and Dee could wash her face or get a glass of water in the middle of the night.
On the other side of the cabin was a tall cabinet, where they stored their uniforms and the few pieces of civilian clothes they still had to their name. Lee's flight suit had hung on the far side, where it was easiest to reach at a moment's notice, and his helmet sat on the shelf at the top.
They'd done their best to make it a home, too. Lee had a picture or two of his father and Zak, while Dee had one of her brother, and a few with her friends on the crew, like Felix Gaeta.
And even as luxurious as all that seemed to Lee now, he remembered with a wistful thought the giant Commander's suite aboard Pegasus. He and Dee had barely known what to do with all that room.
Sitting down on the edge of his bed-- his cot, really, Lee thought-- he looked over the cabin. The walls were featureless, the single chair and tiny table as utilitarian and inoffensively designed and colored as the government committee that had designed this ship could make them. It wasn't a home, and Lee didn't think it could ever be. The President's suite might have the potential to be a home, but it belonged to Laura Roslin, as far as he was concerned.
As for his own home, well... Lee guessed he was still looking.
(527)
Lee knew when they offered him the new cabin that the Quorum had given up on seeing Laura Roslin again. Maybe they would tell their constituents and the media that they would never stop hoping that the rogue Cylon baseship carrying President Roslin could be found intact, and that she would return to resume her leadership of the fleet, but Lee knew it wasn't true. Not when they started insisting that the President of the Colonies, even a pro tempore President, should occupy the main living suite aboard Colonial One.
He refused.
Looking around the small, featureless cabin that had been his home since leaving Galactica, he had to wonder if he was actually a little insane. It measured perhaps eight feet by ten feet, and while it wasn't like he was sleeping in a single rack, sharing the locker with a dozen other people, it still felt small. Then again, he'd gotten used to some pretty comfortable accommodations.
His and Dee's quarters on Galactica had been one of the spacious lockers reserved for families and command-level officers. It was at least twice the size of the cabin he had now, with the bed set into a recess on the far wall. There was a central table for both eating and working, with another working area toward the side that other couples like the Agathons and the Tyrols used for cribs and baby supplies.
There had even been a small vanity off in the corner-- just a sink, a mirror and a small shelf or two, but it meant that Lee hadn't had to fight for a spot on the long, trough-like common sink in the shared head down the corridor, and Dee could wash her face or get a glass of water in the middle of the night.
On the other side of the cabin was a tall cabinet, where they stored their uniforms and the few pieces of civilian clothes they still had to their name. Lee's flight suit had hung on the far side, where it was easiest to reach at a moment's notice, and his helmet sat on the shelf at the top.
They'd done their best to make it a home, too. Lee had a picture or two of his father and Zak, while Dee had one of her brother, and a few with her friends on the crew, like Felix Gaeta.
And even as luxurious as all that seemed to Lee now, he remembered with a wistful thought the giant Commander's suite aboard Pegasus. He and Dee had barely known what to do with all that room.
Sitting down on the edge of his bed-- his cot, really, Lee thought-- he looked over the cabin. The walls were featureless, the single chair and tiny table as utilitarian and inoffensively designed and colored as the government committee that had designed this ship could make them. It wasn't a home, and Lee didn't think it could ever be. The President's suite might have the potential to be a home, but it belonged to Laura Roslin, as far as he was concerned.
As for his own home, well... Lee guessed he was still looking.
(527)
