The Silence of Solitude (The Lookie Here, I've Got a Bite Remix), by lls_mutant
Title: The Silence of Solitude (The Lookie Here, I've Got a Bite Remix)
Author: lls_mutant
Summary: Five times Saul Tigh went fishing.
Characters: Saul Tigh, Ellen Tigh, Bill Adama, Laura Roslin, Louis Hoshi
Pairings: Background Saul/Ellen
Rating: G
Warnings: Worms are speared.
Title, Author, and URL of the original story: Summer by plaid_slytherin
1.
The morning breeze rustled through the grass. The sun was just sneaking over the horizon, the light sneaking between the trees and dappling across the lake. Birds sang in the trees, little snatches of song.
Summer was a wonderful time of the year. It meant no students at the university, no classes to teach. It meant that Saul could sneak away on a Saturday morning and sit on the edge of a lake, fishing pole in hand. It meant a morning of freedom, even if he didn't catch a damn thing. He set his chair on the shore, plopped down with a beer at hand, put on his sunglasses, cast out his line, and closed his eyes.
"Thought I'd find you here."
"Shut up, woman. Fish don't bite if you talk."
"And who says that's not the exact effect I'm going for?" Ellen leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "What's this?" she asked, picking up his beer.
"What's it look like? And don't start complaining to me about the time."
"I'm not complaining about the time. I'm complaining about the number." Ellen wrinkled her nose. "And the label."
"Then go back into the house and get your own, and leave me alone to fish," Saul groused good-naturedly.
"Then you'd miss the good news."
"Good news? What good news can there be at six in the morning, unless it's on the end of my line?" The line that wasn't moving, Saul noted. He glared up at his wife. Too much noise.
But Ellen just arched an eyebrow. "Galen called."
"Heard that. He proposed to Tory two days ago." Saul chuckled, and tweaked his line. "Not often I'm more up to date on the gossip than you."
"No. He just called." There was something in Ellen's voice that made Saul take off his sunglasses and look up at her, and when he did, all the humor was gone from her face. "They had a breakthrough."
The world froze for a moment. "What?"
"The Garifone algorithm," Ellen said. "It worked."
Like I said it would. She didn't have to say the words. Her smugness said it all for her. Normally, Saul would have teased her about that, or fought back. But this was too big. "It worked?"
"It worked." Ellen said.
"Well, frak me," Saul said, sitting back in the chair heavily. He thought about it, picked up the beer, and sucked it down. "Resurrection," he said finally. "We're one step closer."
"Are you coming into the lab?" Ellen asked.
Saul looked up at her, and then looked out over the lake. "I should," he said, but the reluctance was dripping off each word.
Ellen's eyebrow went still higher. "The greatest discovery in Cylon history, and you want to put it off because you're fishing?"
Saul shrugged. "It's not going anywhere."
"Only you."
He couldn't tell if she was amused or not. He didn't really care, because his line jerked. Ellen huffed an irritated sigh, but Saul picked up his pole.
"Go on, Ellen. I'll be in by lunch. Hell, I'll even bring it with me, okay?"
"The greatest discovery in Cylon history and you're fishing," Ellen repeated. When Saul finally looked up again, she was gone.
Yeah, it was the greatest discovery in Cylon history. And it would be there after lunch. But the fish wouldn't be biting then, and this was a good day, and his first day off in months. Saul didn't think anyone could blame him for enjoying it.
2.
It had been so long since he'd been on land. Saul blinked against the rising sun, fishing rod in hand. When was the last time he had been fishing? He couldn't remember.
He knelt down and checked his bait, and then headed down the lake. The air was nippy and there was the smell of rain lingering on the edges, but if he started now, he could get a few hours in. Maybe.
Caprica had beautiful lakes. Saul did like that about it. He baited a hook, cast out his line, and then sat down, braced against a tree. There wasn't a whole lot for him on the ground, but he could find a diversion for a few days.
When was the last time he had been fishing? The question niggled at the back of his brain, and he tried to remember. Not during the War, that was for certain. There had been no time for that. But before that….
He furrowed his brow. No, there was nothing. And that was strange. He should be able to remember the last time he had been fishing.
His hands began to shake, and Saul reached for the flask he had in his vest. He managed to get the cap off and take a deep swig. He tried to remember fish he had caught- frak knows he should be able to remember something- but nothing. He went down a list of fish in his mind, but all he could pull up was other pictures; photographs and nature shows. He couldn't remember a one of them, dangling off the end of his line, under his hands as he gutted them.
And yet, he knew he had been fishing before. It was deep in his soul, a part of him.
He could remember the War with such vivid clarity, but all his life before that seemed like a smeary dream. But the stink of Centurions, gunpowder and blood still lingered in his nose, and the screams of falling comrades were still ringing in his ears. They overpowered everything - war did that to a man.
He took another deep drink from the flask, letting the bitter liquid warm him. It didn't really help, but it made it harder to think. He ignored the fact that that was completely contradictory to his goal of trying to remember and closed his eyes.
The sun was warm on his face when he opened them again, and for a bleary, crazy moment he remembered another lake, and the sound of feet crunching on gravel. But when he opened his eyes, that flash was gone. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes.
The line was bouncing.
Saul jumped to his feet and began reeling his catch in, swearing eagerly. About damn time. He struggled with the fish, and the concentration wiped away any worries that were preying on his mind. He knew this, this pull of the line against his hands, this struggle for dominance. And as the fish was pulled closer, flopping in its primal desperation to get free, he found himself laughing, even though it wasn't funny.
The fish finally came to the shore, lying gasping and twitching at his feet. Saul stared down at it. No air, his mind whispered. Drowning. Desperate.
He'd never cared about a damn fish before, but for some reason, he unhooked this one and threw it back. He watched the trail it left in the water, disappearing in a flash of quicksilver, and then turned away. He pulled his flask back out of his jacket and drank deeply.
Frak fishing. Couldn't remember the last time he'd gone, anyway.
3.
"You've never done this before?" Saul asked incredulously.
"Don't really like fish," Bill answered, but after a beat there was a flash of a grin.
"Well, eating them isn't the point," Saul laughed. He slung a bag over one shoulder and the rods over the other. "Let's go."
"This had better be worth it if you're dragging me out at 0500 hours," Bill muttered.
"We're on leave. You could actually call it five o'clock in the morning," Saul pointed out.
"Too damn early, whatever you call it."
It was still dark out, but Saul didn't mind. Caprican sunrises were worth seeing, and if they had to be off ship then it was a good time to make the best of it.
Ellen hadn't been overly thrilled with his decision to go fishing this morning. Then again, Ellen wasn't usually overly thrilled with anything that didn't revolve around her. She had raised an eyebrow at Bill joining him, though, with a delicate and poisoned, "I thought you liked to fish alone."
"Just never found anyone I wanted to fish with," Saul had told her. That hadn't gone over all that well.
Bill was oblivious to Saul's thoughts, staring straight ahead at the path they were walking down. Saul sighed and shifted the rods on his shoulder. Oddly enough, he was starting to wonder if this was a good idea. It should be; Bill was his best friend. But with the growl on Bill's face evident in the light just beginning to break over the horizon… maybe some things were best not shared.
Thunder. Quiet and low in the distance.
Bill glanced at him, but kept trudging along the path. Saul sighed. "Wait a minute. Do you think-"
"Fish don't care about the rain, I suppose."
Saul sighed heavily. "Yeah. But I do. This isn't basic, Bill, we don't have to drag our asses through mud."
He wasn't imagining the relief written clear across Bill's face. Bill caught his glance and had the grace to look guilty. "I was willing to go."
"You were," Saul conceded. "That's something, at any rate." He smiled. "But don't think you're getting off that easy."
"Huh?"
"We're still fishing."
"But you just said-"
"I know what I just said. Come on," Saul ordered.
"I'm going to regret this," Bill muttered, but Saul ignored him. Hey, the bastard said he'd go fishing, and something about the I'm-only-doing-this-to-shut-you-up air about him demanded retaliation.
It took a little searching, but they found an arcade. It was an old one, run down and dusty, and probably a front for some crime ring, with Saul's luck. But it had the right game and it would do.
Bill stared at it. "No."
"Oh, yes," Saul said. He dug a couple of cubits out of the depths of his pockets. "It's this or the rain."
Bill glanced outside the plate glass window. They'd just beaten the weather, and now rain was pouring down. "I'll take my chances with the rain," he muttered, and started for the door.
Saul grabbed him by the collar. "Oh, no you don't. Get your ass back here."
"How'd you even know about this place, anyway?"
"Ellen dragged me here after a wild night. Believe me, you don't want to hear the whole story." Saul plunked the cubits into the machine. Tinny, mechanized music started playing, and bad graphics lurched to life. "All right, Adama. Let's see what you've got."
It was meant to be a silly diversion that would take all of three minutes before they went home or searching for breakfast. After all, Bill had never fished before. He wasn't supposed to be good at this.
"Frakking game," he said, half an hour later. "You realize this is nothing like the real thing, right?"
Bill's smile was nothing but smug. "You're only saying that because I'm creaming you."
Saul didn't even dignify that with a response. While Bill was the only person he could imagine fishing with, if this was how it was going to go, maybe Saul was best off just fishing on his own.
4.
For the most part, Saul had always fished in the summers, when it was warm. Fishing in the cold was not something he was used to. But if he ever wanted to fish again, it was the only option that was available.
New Caprica's single city was built between two rivers. Or it would be, once it was more than tents and a few crude complexes. Baltar was all full of promises and grand speeches on Founder's Day, but in two months not a one of them had come to pass. Not that that should surprise anyone with half a brain.
For the most part, Saul was content to stay on Galactica. The old girl was home, and New Caprica was a mess. But every now and then, it was good to have the ground under his feet and the sunlight on his face. And today, one of the warmest days they'd had, was a good day to take a little leave and do just that.
He had no idea what kind of fish swam in New Caprica's rivers, but he figured fish were fish no matter what frakking planet you were on. He cast out a makeshift line and sat by a spindly tree, wondering what the hell was going through humanity's collective mind that a place like this was worth settling for.
But then, there was the sharp smell of pine and a breeze stirring. Today the sky was a light blue, and something rustled in the trees. Some sort of small rodent that made for pretty good eating, they'd discovered. There was sky above their heads and ground beneath their feet and water in front of them and just for today, Saul thought he could forget how ridiculous this whole idea was.
"I should have known."
"How the hell did you manage to find me?" Saul demanded, but without any real heat.
Laura laughed. "It wasn't hard. Bill knew exactly where you'd be."
"There are two rivers," Saul sulked. "And fish don't bite if you talk."
"How many fish do you think are in those rivers?" Laura asked matter-of-factly. Her bitterness was almost tangible.
"More than were on any ships. Shut up." Saul leaned back against his tree and closed his eyes. He heard the rustling sounds of Laura sitting down beside him, but then she was silent.
Nothing bit. He didn't really mind; catching something wasn't always the point of fishing, and it was the wrong time of day anyway. He watched the light dapple on the ripples in the water. "It is pretty here," he finally said grudgingly to Laura.
She snorted. "Today."
"Yeah, well. Today's all we got."
"It doesn't have to be."
Saul picked up the bottle he'd brought with him, took a long swig, and then handed it to her. Laura cocked an eyebrow at him with an incredulous half-smile, but then took it and took a drink herself. He waited for her to stop grimacing. "You really believe in Earth?" he asked finally. "You really believe we'd find it?"
"I do." Her answer was serene. "What about you?"
"Me?" He'd been asked that question before, but he'd never put much thought into the answer. Been afraid to put much thought into the answer. "Not a frakking clue, lady. I'm a soldier, not a theological expert." He sighed and tweaked his line. "But I guess it could be worse."
"It will be," Laura promised ominously.
"Yeah. It will be. Now shut up and let me fish, will you? There might not be much to enjoy about this crap hole of a planet, but I can enjoy this."
Laura stood up. "All right," she said, dusting her pants off. "I'll see you later, Saul." He grunted a goodbye as she left, and then let the silence and the peace wash over him again.
Earth. It seemed like such a ludicrous dream, but then, everything seemed ludicrous these days. It was enough to get this- this single day in the sunshine, the rod in his hands and his back against the tree. That was enough for today.
5.
Earth. It wasn't the real Earth - their Earth that he could only remember flashes of - but it was an Earth just the same. And it was beautiful.
Saul wasn't so sure about Lee Adama's "fling all the technology into the sun" plan, but he did agree that they were going to have to learn to adapt. The resources were here, but the skills and the tools and the machines were not. There were implications that he suspected people hadn't thought about, but for some reason, he felt above it. Not superior, just… it wasn't his problem. Not right now.
The settlement was getting going. In a half hour he suspected he'd be able to hear the sounds of building. In the first vestiges of light, he could see the framework of buildings that were being erected. Small buildings, but buildings nonetheless. But for right now, sleep still hung over the community and it was silent.
He walked down to the bank of the river, and suddenly, there was one of those flashes again, and he could see Earth. Not this Earth, but the real Earth. It was there, right there in front of him, and he could hear Ellen laughing. He could see Caprica, he could see New Caprica… and then it all cleared, and it was just this Earth again. Just the green and the fresh air and the river in front of him in the dull light of the crack of dawn.
He sat down on the bank of the river, casting his impromptu line out. It wasn't until he settled down on the bank that he noticed someone sitting a few feet down.
Hoshi raised an eyebrow. "Good morning, sir," he said.
"Think we're beyond the 'sir' now," Saul said. He noticed Hoshi had a line of his own. "You fish?"
"No, it's a secret Sagittaron mattress making technique," Hoshi said sarcastically, but he softened it immediately with a smile. "Yeah. At least, I used to. Been a long time since I had the chance."
"Yeah. Me, too."
They lapsed into silence for a long time, and Saul closed his eyes. Hoshi actually got that fishing didn't need to involve conversation, and it was peaceful, at least until Saul felt the tug on his line. He jumped to his feet eagerly.
"Big one," Hoshi said approvingly as Saul reeled the fish in.
"Make a good breakfast," Saul agreed.
Hoshi flashed a smile and then turned back to his own line. But Saul had the feeling that he was watching the sunrise more than his setup.
"You okay?" Saul asked finally. Hoshi just shrugged, arms wrapped around his knees. "Dumb question," Saul muttered.
"Not really," Hoshi answered.
"Not really a dumb question or not really okay?"
"Both." Hoshi sighed. "I'm leaving."
"Yeah?" Saul didn't look at him, he just cast his rod back out. "When?"
"Today. Supposed I should tell someone so they can get the Raptor back."
"Where are you going?"
"There's a chain of islands." He gave the coordinates.
Saul gaped at him. "That's on the other side of the world."
"Exactly." Hoshi closed his eyes. "That's what I want."
Saul thought about it. Lee was climbing mountains, Bill had disappeared, and Galen had essentially exiled himself. He understood all those decisions. And if he thought about it, let his mind go past the past few months and all the way to the Pegasus, he understood this one, too. He sighed.
"You're sure about this." It wasn't a question.
"I'm sure." There was peace in Hoshi's expression as he tilted his face to the rising sun. "I'm finally ready."
"I'll fly you, if you want," Saul offered.
Hoshi nodded. "Thanks."
"We'll leave later today," Saul said.
"After the fishing is done," Hoshi agreed.
Saul grinned, cast his line back out, and sat back down. "Right," he said, "after the fishing is done."
In all the years and on all the planets Saul had gone fishing, he'd never fished with someone else. No one else ever got it. But Hoshi settled back against a rock, closed his eyes, and folded his hands over his chest. Saul grinned and did the same.
Fishing was always best in silence.
Author: lls_mutant
Summary: Five times Saul Tigh went fishing.
Characters: Saul Tigh, Ellen Tigh, Bill Adama, Laura Roslin, Louis Hoshi
Pairings: Background Saul/Ellen
Rating: G
Warnings: Worms are speared.
Title, Author, and URL of the original story: Summer by plaid_slytherin
1.
The morning breeze rustled through the grass. The sun was just sneaking over the horizon, the light sneaking between the trees and dappling across the lake. Birds sang in the trees, little snatches of song.
Summer was a wonderful time of the year. It meant no students at the university, no classes to teach. It meant that Saul could sneak away on a Saturday morning and sit on the edge of a lake, fishing pole in hand. It meant a morning of freedom, even if he didn't catch a damn thing. He set his chair on the shore, plopped down with a beer at hand, put on his sunglasses, cast out his line, and closed his eyes.
"Thought I'd find you here."
"Shut up, woman. Fish don't bite if you talk."
"And who says that's not the exact effect I'm going for?" Ellen leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "What's this?" she asked, picking up his beer.
"What's it look like? And don't start complaining to me about the time."
"I'm not complaining about the time. I'm complaining about the number." Ellen wrinkled her nose. "And the label."
"Then go back into the house and get your own, and leave me alone to fish," Saul groused good-naturedly.
"Then you'd miss the good news."
"Good news? What good news can there be at six in the morning, unless it's on the end of my line?" The line that wasn't moving, Saul noted. He glared up at his wife. Too much noise.
But Ellen just arched an eyebrow. "Galen called."
"Heard that. He proposed to Tory two days ago." Saul chuckled, and tweaked his line. "Not often I'm more up to date on the gossip than you."
"No. He just called." There was something in Ellen's voice that made Saul take off his sunglasses and look up at her, and when he did, all the humor was gone from her face. "They had a breakthrough."
The world froze for a moment. "What?"
"The Garifone algorithm," Ellen said. "It worked."
Like I said it would. She didn't have to say the words. Her smugness said it all for her. Normally, Saul would have teased her about that, or fought back. But this was too big. "It worked?"
"It worked." Ellen said.
"Well, frak me," Saul said, sitting back in the chair heavily. He thought about it, picked up the beer, and sucked it down. "Resurrection," he said finally. "We're one step closer."
"Are you coming into the lab?" Ellen asked.
Saul looked up at her, and then looked out over the lake. "I should," he said, but the reluctance was dripping off each word.
Ellen's eyebrow went still higher. "The greatest discovery in Cylon history, and you want to put it off because you're fishing?"
Saul shrugged. "It's not going anywhere."
"Only you."
He couldn't tell if she was amused or not. He didn't really care, because his line jerked. Ellen huffed an irritated sigh, but Saul picked up his pole.
"Go on, Ellen. I'll be in by lunch. Hell, I'll even bring it with me, okay?"
"The greatest discovery in Cylon history and you're fishing," Ellen repeated. When Saul finally looked up again, she was gone.
Yeah, it was the greatest discovery in Cylon history. And it would be there after lunch. But the fish wouldn't be biting then, and this was a good day, and his first day off in months. Saul didn't think anyone could blame him for enjoying it.
2.
It had been so long since he'd been on land. Saul blinked against the rising sun, fishing rod in hand. When was the last time he had been fishing? He couldn't remember.
He knelt down and checked his bait, and then headed down the lake. The air was nippy and there was the smell of rain lingering on the edges, but if he started now, he could get a few hours in. Maybe.
Caprica had beautiful lakes. Saul did like that about it. He baited a hook, cast out his line, and then sat down, braced against a tree. There wasn't a whole lot for him on the ground, but he could find a diversion for a few days.
When was the last time he had been fishing? The question niggled at the back of his brain, and he tried to remember. Not during the War, that was for certain. There had been no time for that. But before that….
He furrowed his brow. No, there was nothing. And that was strange. He should be able to remember the last time he had been fishing.
His hands began to shake, and Saul reached for the flask he had in his vest. He managed to get the cap off and take a deep swig. He tried to remember fish he had caught- frak knows he should be able to remember something- but nothing. He went down a list of fish in his mind, but all he could pull up was other pictures; photographs and nature shows. He couldn't remember a one of them, dangling off the end of his line, under his hands as he gutted them.
And yet, he knew he had been fishing before. It was deep in his soul, a part of him.
He could remember the War with such vivid clarity, but all his life before that seemed like a smeary dream. But the stink of Centurions, gunpowder and blood still lingered in his nose, and the screams of falling comrades were still ringing in his ears. They overpowered everything - war did that to a man.
He took another deep drink from the flask, letting the bitter liquid warm him. It didn't really help, but it made it harder to think. He ignored the fact that that was completely contradictory to his goal of trying to remember and closed his eyes.
The sun was warm on his face when he opened them again, and for a bleary, crazy moment he remembered another lake, and the sound of feet crunching on gravel. But when he opened his eyes, that flash was gone. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes.
The line was bouncing.
Saul jumped to his feet and began reeling his catch in, swearing eagerly. About damn time. He struggled with the fish, and the concentration wiped away any worries that were preying on his mind. He knew this, this pull of the line against his hands, this struggle for dominance. And as the fish was pulled closer, flopping in its primal desperation to get free, he found himself laughing, even though it wasn't funny.
The fish finally came to the shore, lying gasping and twitching at his feet. Saul stared down at it. No air, his mind whispered. Drowning. Desperate.
He'd never cared about a damn fish before, but for some reason, he unhooked this one and threw it back. He watched the trail it left in the water, disappearing in a flash of quicksilver, and then turned away. He pulled his flask back out of his jacket and drank deeply.
Frak fishing. Couldn't remember the last time he'd gone, anyway.
3.
"You've never done this before?" Saul asked incredulously.
"Don't really like fish," Bill answered, but after a beat there was a flash of a grin.
"Well, eating them isn't the point," Saul laughed. He slung a bag over one shoulder and the rods over the other. "Let's go."
"This had better be worth it if you're dragging me out at 0500 hours," Bill muttered.
"We're on leave. You could actually call it five o'clock in the morning," Saul pointed out.
"Too damn early, whatever you call it."
It was still dark out, but Saul didn't mind. Caprican sunrises were worth seeing, and if they had to be off ship then it was a good time to make the best of it.
Ellen hadn't been overly thrilled with his decision to go fishing this morning. Then again, Ellen wasn't usually overly thrilled with anything that didn't revolve around her. She had raised an eyebrow at Bill joining him, though, with a delicate and poisoned, "I thought you liked to fish alone."
"Just never found anyone I wanted to fish with," Saul had told her. That hadn't gone over all that well.
Bill was oblivious to Saul's thoughts, staring straight ahead at the path they were walking down. Saul sighed and shifted the rods on his shoulder. Oddly enough, he was starting to wonder if this was a good idea. It should be; Bill was his best friend. But with the growl on Bill's face evident in the light just beginning to break over the horizon… maybe some things were best not shared.
Thunder. Quiet and low in the distance.
Bill glanced at him, but kept trudging along the path. Saul sighed. "Wait a minute. Do you think-"
"Fish don't care about the rain, I suppose."
Saul sighed heavily. "Yeah. But I do. This isn't basic, Bill, we don't have to drag our asses through mud."
He wasn't imagining the relief written clear across Bill's face. Bill caught his glance and had the grace to look guilty. "I was willing to go."
"You were," Saul conceded. "That's something, at any rate." He smiled. "But don't think you're getting off that easy."
"Huh?"
"We're still fishing."
"But you just said-"
"I know what I just said. Come on," Saul ordered.
"I'm going to regret this," Bill muttered, but Saul ignored him. Hey, the bastard said he'd go fishing, and something about the I'm-only-doing-this-to-shut-you-up air about him demanded retaliation.
It took a little searching, but they found an arcade. It was an old one, run down and dusty, and probably a front for some crime ring, with Saul's luck. But it had the right game and it would do.
Bill stared at it. "No."
"Oh, yes," Saul said. He dug a couple of cubits out of the depths of his pockets. "It's this or the rain."
Bill glanced outside the plate glass window. They'd just beaten the weather, and now rain was pouring down. "I'll take my chances with the rain," he muttered, and started for the door.
Saul grabbed him by the collar. "Oh, no you don't. Get your ass back here."
"How'd you even know about this place, anyway?"
"Ellen dragged me here after a wild night. Believe me, you don't want to hear the whole story." Saul plunked the cubits into the machine. Tinny, mechanized music started playing, and bad graphics lurched to life. "All right, Adama. Let's see what you've got."
It was meant to be a silly diversion that would take all of three minutes before they went home or searching for breakfast. After all, Bill had never fished before. He wasn't supposed to be good at this.
"Frakking game," he said, half an hour later. "You realize this is nothing like the real thing, right?"
Bill's smile was nothing but smug. "You're only saying that because I'm creaming you."
Saul didn't even dignify that with a response. While Bill was the only person he could imagine fishing with, if this was how it was going to go, maybe Saul was best off just fishing on his own.
4.
For the most part, Saul had always fished in the summers, when it was warm. Fishing in the cold was not something he was used to. But if he ever wanted to fish again, it was the only option that was available.
New Caprica's single city was built between two rivers. Or it would be, once it was more than tents and a few crude complexes. Baltar was all full of promises and grand speeches on Founder's Day, but in two months not a one of them had come to pass. Not that that should surprise anyone with half a brain.
For the most part, Saul was content to stay on Galactica. The old girl was home, and New Caprica was a mess. But every now and then, it was good to have the ground under his feet and the sunlight on his face. And today, one of the warmest days they'd had, was a good day to take a little leave and do just that.
He had no idea what kind of fish swam in New Caprica's rivers, but he figured fish were fish no matter what frakking planet you were on. He cast out a makeshift line and sat by a spindly tree, wondering what the hell was going through humanity's collective mind that a place like this was worth settling for.
But then, there was the sharp smell of pine and a breeze stirring. Today the sky was a light blue, and something rustled in the trees. Some sort of small rodent that made for pretty good eating, they'd discovered. There was sky above their heads and ground beneath their feet and water in front of them and just for today, Saul thought he could forget how ridiculous this whole idea was.
"I should have known."
"How the hell did you manage to find me?" Saul demanded, but without any real heat.
Laura laughed. "It wasn't hard. Bill knew exactly where you'd be."
"There are two rivers," Saul sulked. "And fish don't bite if you talk."
"How many fish do you think are in those rivers?" Laura asked matter-of-factly. Her bitterness was almost tangible.
"More than were on any ships. Shut up." Saul leaned back against his tree and closed his eyes. He heard the rustling sounds of Laura sitting down beside him, but then she was silent.
Nothing bit. He didn't really mind; catching something wasn't always the point of fishing, and it was the wrong time of day anyway. He watched the light dapple on the ripples in the water. "It is pretty here," he finally said grudgingly to Laura.
She snorted. "Today."
"Yeah, well. Today's all we got."
"It doesn't have to be."
Saul picked up the bottle he'd brought with him, took a long swig, and then handed it to her. Laura cocked an eyebrow at him with an incredulous half-smile, but then took it and took a drink herself. He waited for her to stop grimacing. "You really believe in Earth?" he asked finally. "You really believe we'd find it?"
"I do." Her answer was serene. "What about you?"
"Me?" He'd been asked that question before, but he'd never put much thought into the answer. Been afraid to put much thought into the answer. "Not a frakking clue, lady. I'm a soldier, not a theological expert." He sighed and tweaked his line. "But I guess it could be worse."
"It will be," Laura promised ominously.
"Yeah. It will be. Now shut up and let me fish, will you? There might not be much to enjoy about this crap hole of a planet, but I can enjoy this."
Laura stood up. "All right," she said, dusting her pants off. "I'll see you later, Saul." He grunted a goodbye as she left, and then let the silence and the peace wash over him again.
Earth. It seemed like such a ludicrous dream, but then, everything seemed ludicrous these days. It was enough to get this- this single day in the sunshine, the rod in his hands and his back against the tree. That was enough for today.
5.
Earth. It wasn't the real Earth - their Earth that he could only remember flashes of - but it was an Earth just the same. And it was beautiful.
Saul wasn't so sure about Lee Adama's "fling all the technology into the sun" plan, but he did agree that they were going to have to learn to adapt. The resources were here, but the skills and the tools and the machines were not. There were implications that he suspected people hadn't thought about, but for some reason, he felt above it. Not superior, just… it wasn't his problem. Not right now.
The settlement was getting going. In a half hour he suspected he'd be able to hear the sounds of building. In the first vestiges of light, he could see the framework of buildings that were being erected. Small buildings, but buildings nonetheless. But for right now, sleep still hung over the community and it was silent.
He walked down to the bank of the river, and suddenly, there was one of those flashes again, and he could see Earth. Not this Earth, but the real Earth. It was there, right there in front of him, and he could hear Ellen laughing. He could see Caprica, he could see New Caprica… and then it all cleared, and it was just this Earth again. Just the green and the fresh air and the river in front of him in the dull light of the crack of dawn.
He sat down on the bank of the river, casting his impromptu line out. It wasn't until he settled down on the bank that he noticed someone sitting a few feet down.
Hoshi raised an eyebrow. "Good morning, sir," he said.
"Think we're beyond the 'sir' now," Saul said. He noticed Hoshi had a line of his own. "You fish?"
"No, it's a secret Sagittaron mattress making technique," Hoshi said sarcastically, but he softened it immediately with a smile. "Yeah. At least, I used to. Been a long time since I had the chance."
"Yeah. Me, too."
They lapsed into silence for a long time, and Saul closed his eyes. Hoshi actually got that fishing didn't need to involve conversation, and it was peaceful, at least until Saul felt the tug on his line. He jumped to his feet eagerly.
"Big one," Hoshi said approvingly as Saul reeled the fish in.
"Make a good breakfast," Saul agreed.
Hoshi flashed a smile and then turned back to his own line. But Saul had the feeling that he was watching the sunrise more than his setup.
"You okay?" Saul asked finally. Hoshi just shrugged, arms wrapped around his knees. "Dumb question," Saul muttered.
"Not really," Hoshi answered.
"Not really a dumb question or not really okay?"
"Both." Hoshi sighed. "I'm leaving."
"Yeah?" Saul didn't look at him, he just cast his rod back out. "When?"
"Today. Supposed I should tell someone so they can get the Raptor back."
"Where are you going?"
"There's a chain of islands." He gave the coordinates.
Saul gaped at him. "That's on the other side of the world."
"Exactly." Hoshi closed his eyes. "That's what I want."
Saul thought about it. Lee was climbing mountains, Bill had disappeared, and Galen had essentially exiled himself. He understood all those decisions. And if he thought about it, let his mind go past the past few months and all the way to the Pegasus, he understood this one, too. He sighed.
"You're sure about this." It wasn't a question.
"I'm sure." There was peace in Hoshi's expression as he tilted his face to the rising sun. "I'm finally ready."
"I'll fly you, if you want," Saul offered.
Hoshi nodded. "Thanks."
"We'll leave later today," Saul said.
"After the fishing is done," Hoshi agreed.
Saul grinned, cast his line back out, and sat back down. "Right," he said, "after the fishing is done."
In all the years and on all the planets Saul had gone fishing, he'd never fished with someone else. No one else ever got it. But Hoshi settled back against a rock, closed his eyes, and folded his hands over his chest. Saul grinned and did the same.
Fishing was always best in silence.