Mar. 30th, 2008

wyrdwritere: (Default)

It was the dead of ship-board night, and Sharon walked the halls of Galactica alone. She had tried to sleep, but once again, the walls of her rack had closed in on her, driving her onto the cold metal floors of home. The layout troubled her slightly, as it always did. Something about it nagged at her, awakening her loneliness and evoking a feeling that she didn’t truly belong. She ignored it as best she could, until she could resist no longer, and her bare feet found their way to the hangar deck. She padded along the upper gantry, looking down at the figures toiling there, until she stopped and sat on the floor, her legs dangling over the edge, her forehead resting on a railing.

^^^

Chief Tyrol hated working the early shifts, but while he did make the schedule, he couldn’t control when illness and overwork would leave him no choice but to take up the slack himself.

There was a full workload that morning, and he spent much of it up to his elbows in viper avionics, and checking on the others' progress.  After a few hours, he found just a moment to steal away, and sit, staring at the deck.  After perhaps two minutes, he felt a light touch on his hand.  He looked up, knowing who it was. 

Cally smiled, kissing him ever-so-lightly on the lips.  He returned the smile, took her hand and squeezed it for moment, and then went back to work.  He did not once look up at the walkway overlooking the flight deck.


^^^

Sharon stared fixedly down at the small patch of the flight deck, the isolated patch of quiet where the Chief liked to go for a moment alone.  She heard someone approaching alone the walkway, and looked up to see another her, naked, come up and sit beside her.  Sharon—Boomer—said nothing.  The other Eight waited a minute, and then said: “I can see why you come here.”

“Y-you can?” Boomer blinked.

The other nodded.  “It’s very peaceful.  I like the way the waves curl in and out.  It’s very soothing.”

Boomer swallowed, and then joined her model-sister in her projection, a seaside view very popular with their fellows.  Boomer hated it.  It wasn’t based on anything she’d experienced, and sitting here, she was far too close to the water.

Her sister put her arm around Boomer’s shoulder, and kissed her on the cheek.  “I know you miss them, but they didn’t love you for who you are.  We do.  You’re better off with us.  After all, here, you can be anywhere you want to be.”

Boomer nodded.  Her sister smiled, and stood up, and went on her way.  As soon as she was gone, Boomer returned to the Galactica, and looked back down at where her life had been.  So long as she focused there, she could ignore the troopers marching about and repairing raiders, and cling to the image of home. 

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wyrdwritere

April 2011

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