Doesn't Quite Compute (PG) - BSG
Title: Doesn't Quite Compute
Author: storydivagirl
Fandom: Battlestar Galatica 2003
A/N: Written for word challenge # 91 at 15minuteficlets. First time writing in this fandom. Unbeta'd at the moment. Feedback always appreciated.
Word # 91 - Translation
**
It was never something that really translated with him - why the Cylons wanted to annihilate them all? Why wasn’t surrender and displacement enough? Lee was thankful that he didn’t really have time to ruminate on any of it at that moment - too busy fighting for survival, too busy dealing with his commander/father, and too busy acting as the president’s liaison. He was thankful because he knew that if he thought about it too long, the more questions that would arise and the more images of people long gone would flash before his face.
“Captain, I’d like to see you in my quarters,” his father’s voice echoed throughout the ship.
Lee jumped up from his cot and stretched. It wasn’t like he had been sleeping. He didn’t do much of that these days. He could only imagine what type of lecture he was about to get this time from the old man. Would it be the one about choosing sides? Would it be the one about being a good soldier?
Lee shrugged into his uniform. He had given up trying to figure out his father a long time ago. It was an exercise in futility. Another thing, like the never-ending Cylon attacks, that didn't compute with him. Another thing that he was just never going to understand and it was best not to expend the energy on it.
He made his way through the hall, eerily abandoned considering the current state of war, and stopped outside his father’s quarters. He could hear music filtering out the door - one of his father’s old favorites - and braced himself for an argument before knocking on the door.
“Come in.”
Lee pushed open the door and met his father’s neutral gaze. He said, “You asked to see me, Commander.”
“Personal not military, Lee.”
Lee wasn’t sure if that was a better predicament to find himself in or not. The last personal conversation he and his dad had shared really hadn’t gone too well. Kara kept saying it was because they were too much alike, too stubborn, too caught up in their own pain to acknowledge the other. She was probably onto something with that, though Lee would never admit it.
“Sir?”
“Despite the fact that I think handing over the Astral Queen to a man like Zarek was a tactical error-“
“I’m not going to argue my reasoning again. The only thing he asked for was what the law already states - and he got the prisoners to agree to help us. I think that’s a good thing.”
“I don’t want to argue, Lee,” his father paused, focusing his attention on an old photograph. He sipped his coffee, filling the air with an awkward silence between the two of them, before adding “I wanted to make sure that you were okay and to let you know that, even though I disagree with your decision, I’m glad that you and the others were able to get out safely.”
“I wish I could’ve done more. I would’ve liked to keep Cally from getting hurt at all.”
“And what about you? You’re pretty banged up, Lee.”
Lee shrugged. Not his normal response to any question, but there wasn’t an answer. He was fine...considering. It wasn’t anything worse than what he and Zak used to do to one another when they were kids. But the topic of his brother was one he tended to avoid with his father. It led to fighting and, right then, he couldn't handle that. He was too exhausted from all the arguing and life-altering debates.
“You’re tired. Go get some sleep.”
“I’m okay.”
“That’s an order,” his father countered.
Lee smiled slightly. From a man like his father, that was a statement of care and worry. He nodded and said, “Yes sir.”
“And for everyone’s sake, I hope you’re right about Zarek. We need every hand that we can get at the moment.”
“So do I,” Lee replied as he exited his father’s quarters. After the door shut, Lee rested himself against the wall, wondering exactly what had happened in there. He knew his father was trying to reach out to him, to make some sort of connection in these isolating days, but it was all too new to him. It had been a long time since he and his father could converse easily with one another and Lee had forgotten how to let his guard down around him. He had forgotten a lot of things prior to the war and it was harder to readjust than he had expected.
Lee just hoped that things started to improve sooner than later. Hope was never something he had much belief in. He used to hope his father would learn to talk to him without that abrasive ring to his voice. He used to hope that his parents could make things work. He used to hope that everyone would realize that his younger brother wasn’t meant to be a pilot. No, hope never worked out for Lee quite the way he wanted.
But he, along with the remainder of the survivors, needed to have faith in something. Otherwise, what was the point of going on or even trying to fight? There had to be something to believe in.
He knew that finding water was a good start. And getting the men to agree to bring it back was another. That much did translate.
{Fin}
Author: storydivagirl
Fandom: Battlestar Galatica 2003
A/N: Written for word challenge # 91 at 15minuteficlets. First time writing in this fandom. Unbeta'd at the moment. Feedback always appreciated.
Word # 91 - Translation
**
It was never something that really translated with him - why the Cylons wanted to annihilate them all? Why wasn’t surrender and displacement enough? Lee was thankful that he didn’t really have time to ruminate on any of it at that moment - too busy fighting for survival, too busy dealing with his commander/father, and too busy acting as the president’s liaison. He was thankful because he knew that if he thought about it too long, the more questions that would arise and the more images of people long gone would flash before his face.
“Captain, I’d like to see you in my quarters,” his father’s voice echoed throughout the ship.
Lee jumped up from his cot and stretched. It wasn’t like he had been sleeping. He didn’t do much of that these days. He could only imagine what type of lecture he was about to get this time from the old man. Would it be the one about choosing sides? Would it be the one about being a good soldier?
Lee shrugged into his uniform. He had given up trying to figure out his father a long time ago. It was an exercise in futility. Another thing, like the never-ending Cylon attacks, that didn't compute with him. Another thing that he was just never going to understand and it was best not to expend the energy on it.
He made his way through the hall, eerily abandoned considering the current state of war, and stopped outside his father’s quarters. He could hear music filtering out the door - one of his father’s old favorites - and braced himself for an argument before knocking on the door.
“Come in.”
Lee pushed open the door and met his father’s neutral gaze. He said, “You asked to see me, Commander.”
“Personal not military, Lee.”
Lee wasn’t sure if that was a better predicament to find himself in or not. The last personal conversation he and his dad had shared really hadn’t gone too well. Kara kept saying it was because they were too much alike, too stubborn, too caught up in their own pain to acknowledge the other. She was probably onto something with that, though Lee would never admit it.
“Sir?”
“Despite the fact that I think handing over the Astral Queen to a man like Zarek was a tactical error-“
“I’m not going to argue my reasoning again. The only thing he asked for was what the law already states - and he got the prisoners to agree to help us. I think that’s a good thing.”
“I don’t want to argue, Lee,” his father paused, focusing his attention on an old photograph. He sipped his coffee, filling the air with an awkward silence between the two of them, before adding “I wanted to make sure that you were okay and to let you know that, even though I disagree with your decision, I’m glad that you and the others were able to get out safely.”
“I wish I could’ve done more. I would’ve liked to keep Cally from getting hurt at all.”
“And what about you? You’re pretty banged up, Lee.”
Lee shrugged. Not his normal response to any question, but there wasn’t an answer. He was fine...considering. It wasn’t anything worse than what he and Zak used to do to one another when they were kids. But the topic of his brother was one he tended to avoid with his father. It led to fighting and, right then, he couldn't handle that. He was too exhausted from all the arguing and life-altering debates.
“You’re tired. Go get some sleep.”
“I’m okay.”
“That’s an order,” his father countered.
Lee smiled slightly. From a man like his father, that was a statement of care and worry. He nodded and said, “Yes sir.”
“And for everyone’s sake, I hope you’re right about Zarek. We need every hand that we can get at the moment.”
“So do I,” Lee replied as he exited his father’s quarters. After the door shut, Lee rested himself against the wall, wondering exactly what had happened in there. He knew his father was trying to reach out to him, to make some sort of connection in these isolating days, but it was all too new to him. It had been a long time since he and his father could converse easily with one another and Lee had forgotten how to let his guard down around him. He had forgotten a lot of things prior to the war and it was harder to readjust than he had expected.
Lee just hoped that things started to improve sooner than later. Hope was never something he had much belief in. He used to hope his father would learn to talk to him without that abrasive ring to his voice. He used to hope that his parents could make things work. He used to hope that everyone would realize that his younger brother wasn’t meant to be a pilot. No, hope never worked out for Lee quite the way he wanted.
But he, along with the remainder of the survivors, needed to have faith in something. Otherwise, what was the point of going on or even trying to fight? There had to be something to believe in.
He knew that finding water was a good start. And getting the men to agree to bring it back was another. That much did translate.
{Fin}