May 10, 2010 10:32
Six weeks had passed from the last time Kara Thrace had been at the Cape. She'd learned one hell of a lot about Earth in that short amount of time; waiting tables was often hard work, but it was a great way to keep her fingers on the pulse of happenings at Patrick Air Force Base as everyone from tourists to locals to the military families themselves passed through Cocoa Beach for one reason or another. She was even beginning to look and act like a native Floridian - during the hot summer, she'd gained a deep golden tan topped with permanently sunburnt cheeks, unlearned how to drive tooling around on straight, level roads on Al's motorcycle, and experienced a mounting dislike for people who were not from Florida. Other than those concessions to nativism, though, she led the same sort of solitary life she'd led in Delphi. Kara had taken a room in the inn where she worked, rarely socialized, and spent all her time learning the ins and outs of the base by any means necessary.
Aside from the general routine of life on a military base (something she already knew plenty about), Kara had picked up the fact Earth’s endeavor to go to space was indeed in its fledgling stage. Even if she’d spent her time simply watching television (almost laughably quaint compared to what she’d been used to on Caprica), she’d have gleaned that much - not to mention the fact the entire planet seemed swept up in it. Almost daily during her shifts, she heard some bit of news or another from NASA, and in Cocoa, NASA devotion was something of a religion. She also learned plenty about the politics of the place just from listening for tidbits about the space program. Here, countries fought with more vehemence than all the twelve colonies did. Overcrowding, Kara presumed - there were too many opposing ideologies to exist in such a small place. It was little wonder no one from Earth had yet stepped foot on the moon so close, if this had been the Caprica, it would have been close enough for a day’s shopping excursion.
One thing she hadn’t heard about, though, was Lieutenant Albert Calavicci. Normally, that wouldn’t have surprised her as most military personnel were just nameless, faceless protectors, but around here, those destined for space (the queerly named ‘astronauts’) were celebrities. She assumed Al was still in training and therefore had little time for photo opportunities or interviews, but still, she’d have liked to see him just once if only to know he was doing well. Her greatest fear was that, thanks to her and their little misadventure, he’d been knocked down to some desk jockey position and he’d never get to see the stars he dreamt of. She’d convinced herself that wasn’t the case, though, if only to keep him off her mind. After all, she had her pen in too many inkpots to get distracted for too long...
*crack,
^karathrace