FIC: conceive of such a combination (BSG, Academy!Kara, PG-13)
Title: conceive of such a combination
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Summary: Flight Instructor!Kara.
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. The words are.
Author's Note: leiascully asked for "Kara owning the hell out of everyone in flight school. Bonus points for Zak." I got more inspired than I expected, so an actual Kara/Zak Academy fic is probably coming soon, but here's this. Title from Wilbur Wright's quote: "More than anything else the sensation is one of perfect peace mingled with an excitement that strains every nerve to the utmost, if you can conceive of such a combination."
Kara makes a nugget cry the first day.
It’s not like it’s her fault-the kid called her Ensign Thrace, and did he really think he was going to get away with that?
Plus, you make an example out of one and they all fall in line. After Tears (like he’d ever get out of that callsign) flees, everyone else is “Yes, sir, Lieutenant Thrace, sir.”
She picks the winners that first week, knows who’s going to make it, who’ll get by, who’ll be gone in a week. There are some who think they are hotshots, a couple who actually are. A few are only there because they know the right people. The Adama kid’s cute and all, and she lets him think he seduces her when she sees him at a bar the first weekend, but he’s got no long term potential. He’s not even going to graduate.
The first few days, she talks at them, makes them read, finally lets them try their hands at the sims. They begin to realize this is a big deal, it isn’t going to be easy, and if they don’t work hard, they’re frakked.
When she puts them in the cockpits and gets them in the air, they’re scared, even the ones who know they are where they’re supposed to be.
She remembers the first time she flew: the way she could feel her blood flow all the way out to her fingertips, the way her heart had never beat so fast, the way she almost cried-not in sadness or fright, but because she felt so much. There was so much emotion she wanted to sob. Instead, she poured the feeling into that bird.
She does it again, the best she knows how, to show the nuggets what they have to look forward to.
It gets her blood thrumming just the same, her heart jumping out of its ribcage. She beams when she jumps from the wing of her bird, helmet in hand.
“Work your asses off, nuggets, and eventually you might be able to pull that off,” she says, considers, then adds, “Well, you might be able to pull some of that off. You can’t expect to match a god in the cockpit.”
They all just stare at her, slack-jawed.
“Impressed?” she asks.
One of them, voice quiet, says, “Yes, sir, Lieutenant Thrace, sir.”
Tears adds, “So say we all.”
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Summary: Flight Instructor!Kara.
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. The words are.
Author's Note: leiascully asked for "Kara owning the hell out of everyone in flight school. Bonus points for Zak." I got more inspired than I expected, so an actual Kara/Zak Academy fic is probably coming soon, but here's this. Title from Wilbur Wright's quote: "More than anything else the sensation is one of perfect peace mingled with an excitement that strains every nerve to the utmost, if you can conceive of such a combination."
Kara makes a nugget cry the first day.
It’s not like it’s her fault-the kid called her Ensign Thrace, and did he really think he was going to get away with that?
Plus, you make an example out of one and they all fall in line. After Tears (like he’d ever get out of that callsign) flees, everyone else is “Yes, sir, Lieutenant Thrace, sir.”
She picks the winners that first week, knows who’s going to make it, who’ll get by, who’ll be gone in a week. There are some who think they are hotshots, a couple who actually are. A few are only there because they know the right people. The Adama kid’s cute and all, and she lets him think he seduces her when she sees him at a bar the first weekend, but he’s got no long term potential. He’s not even going to graduate.
The first few days, she talks at them, makes them read, finally lets them try their hands at the sims. They begin to realize this is a big deal, it isn’t going to be easy, and if they don’t work hard, they’re frakked.
When she puts them in the cockpits and gets them in the air, they’re scared, even the ones who know they are where they’re supposed to be.
She remembers the first time she flew: the way she could feel her blood flow all the way out to her fingertips, the way her heart had never beat so fast, the way she almost cried-not in sadness or fright, but because she felt so much. There was so much emotion she wanted to sob. Instead, she poured the feeling into that bird.
She does it again, the best she knows how, to show the nuggets what they have to look forward to.
It gets her blood thrumming just the same, her heart jumping out of its ribcage. She beams when she jumps from the wing of her bird, helmet in hand.
“Work your asses off, nuggets, and eventually you might be able to pull that off,” she says, considers, then adds, “Well, you might be able to pull some of that off. You can’t expect to match a god in the cockpit.”
They all just stare at her, slack-jawed.
“Impressed?” she asks.
One of them, voice quiet, says, “Yes, sir, Lieutenant Thrace, sir.”
Tears adds, “So say we all.”