Fic: Run In Grace (BSG: Laura Roslin, K+)
Title: Run in Grace
Author: Trialia
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Rating: K+
Word Count: 418
Character(s): Laura Roslin
Pairing(s): Roslin/Adama, if you squint hard.
Spoilers: Lay Down Your Burdens, part 1
Summary: This temporary respite from the Cylons is not a pleasure cruise.
A/N: The title belongs to Suzanne Vega; beta-read by laharah, thanks!
It feels strange, to stop moving. The fleet hasn't stopped running since the destruction of the Colonies, not really. They've paused a few times, to recuperate and to restock vitally needed supplies, but they had never halted their journey completely.
Until now.
New Caprica.
This isn't right, and though you're not the only one who knows that, nobody will do a frakking thing about it. You're not the president anymore, and though Bill Adama has plenty of authority - that you gave him, gods bless that stroke of foresight - he still does not have the influence that would be needed to get these people off this rock and moving, once more, toward Earth.
You're not even sure Baltar would have the power to do it, even if he did make a sudden turn in his insane attitude to decide finding Earth would be the best idea. Nothing short of a Cylon invasion will move the people now that they've found a new home, and if Baltar really is under Cylon mind control - as you've thought more than once - then that will happen, in time.
When, though, did you stop considering yourself one of them? Was it at the moment Mother Elosha swore you in as President, or was it before that, when you learned you were dying?
Either way, you suppose, it doesn't matter.
They've made a bad decision as a whole, but you have moved here with them to do what you can to help, because you know that they'll need [it] you. You're the most qualified of a bare handful of teachers left alive, and though you hate being on this derelict mudball of a planet, you will endure it to guide and protect the future of the human race as best you can. The children matter more than anything, now.
Your misgivings about this settlement are plentiful. You know that several other people share them. Unless you find a way to change things, there is little point in voicing your ill-feeling about the situation: it's no way to keep up morale, which is still important for humanity (you keep thinking 'the fleet' before anything else), especially when the gods-damned weather in this place does nothing but make people ill. So you stay quiet.
A waiting game, as always; thankfully it's no longer in anticipation of your own death, but still waiting, and waiting, and waiting.
They'll come; how you know it, you can't say, but they will be back.
You'll be ready.
-fin
Author: Trialia
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Rating: K+
Word Count: 418
Character(s): Laura Roslin
Pairing(s): Roslin/Adama, if you squint hard.
Spoilers: Lay Down Your Burdens, part 1
Summary: This temporary respite from the Cylons is not a pleasure cruise.
A/N: The title belongs to Suzanne Vega; beta-read by laharah, thanks!
It feels strange, to stop moving. The fleet hasn't stopped running since the destruction of the Colonies, not really. They've paused a few times, to recuperate and to restock vitally needed supplies, but they had never halted their journey completely.
Until now.
New Caprica.
This isn't right, and though you're not the only one who knows that, nobody will do a frakking thing about it. You're not the president anymore, and though Bill Adama has plenty of authority - that you gave him, gods bless that stroke of foresight - he still does not have the influence that would be needed to get these people off this rock and moving, once more, toward Earth.
You're not even sure Baltar would have the power to do it, even if he did make a sudden turn in his insane attitude to decide finding Earth would be the best idea. Nothing short of a Cylon invasion will move the people now that they've found a new home, and if Baltar really is under Cylon mind control - as you've thought more than once - then that will happen, in time.
When, though, did you stop considering yourself one of them? Was it at the moment Mother Elosha swore you in as President, or was it before that, when you learned you were dying?
Either way, you suppose, it doesn't matter.
They've made a bad decision as a whole, but you have moved here with them to do what you can to help, because you know that they'll need [it] you. You're the most qualified of a bare handful of teachers left alive, and though you hate being on this derelict mudball of a planet, you will endure it to guide and protect the future of the human race as best you can. The children matter more than anything, now.
Your misgivings about this settlement are plentiful. You know that several other people share them. Unless you find a way to change things, there is little point in voicing your ill-feeling about the situation: it's no way to keep up morale, which is still important for humanity (you keep thinking 'the fleet' before anything else), especially when the gods-damned weather in this place does nothing but make people ill. So you stay quiet.
A waiting game, as always; thankfully it's no longer in anticipation of your own death, but still waiting, and waiting, and waiting.
They'll come; how you know it, you can't say, but they will be back.
You'll be ready.
-fin