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crack_van2010-06-02 01:50 am
beatrice_otter) wrote in crack_van2010-06-02 01:50 am
Entry tags:
Annotations by inlovewithnight (PG)
Hi! I'm Beatrice Otter, I'm Beatrice Otter, and I'll be your reccer for Battlestar Galactica for the month of June. I tend to favor Cylon stories, but I'll try to give you a good variety of what's out there, both older gems that have been overlooked and new stories. We'll start out by an old but good one.
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Characters: Saul Tigh, Lee Adama
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
inlovewithnight
Author Website: Fic Index
Why this must be read:
Remember back when things were relatively simple, before prophecies and politics and the fleet was torn apart again and again? This fic takes you back then. There's nothing flashy about this story, it's just a good character moment between two characters early on in the first season. This story takes place just after "33," and Saul Tigh is heading to his rack for some much needed sleep when he comes across Lee Adama trying to figure out his responsibilities as CAG. Both are exhausted, and neither really knows the other. What life will be like in the Fleet has yet to be seen. But for the first time, it seems like life might go on. In which case, the CAG and the XO had better get to know one another a little.
Twenty-six minutes, my body says, listening to a new clock that set itself up over these last few days from hell. It ought to be nice to have a mental cycle that doesn't run on booze, but I'd give a lot to not have this one. Seven minutes to go. Get to the CIC, brace for jump...
We're not jumping anymore, though; we're regrouping. Half of the crew has already been released from duty and crawled off to their racks. The other half is clawing out the rest of this shift on relief and sheer inertia. I wasn't sure if this was much of a crew, back when it didn't matter and I didn't care. But they're something, all right. They've got heart after all.
I'm dragging my sorry tail back to my bunk-- the Old Man insisted on finishing out this shift, and it's been years since it did any good to fight with him. Maybe it never did. Anyway, I'm not going to say no to the idea of sleep. Not ever again.
The door to the pilots' ready room is standing open, and changing course across the corridor to close it almost takes me down then and there. Probably wouldn't hurt anything to leave it open, but regs are regs and if we start letting them slip, we might as well have let the Cylons wipe us out at Ragnar.
I reach the door and glance inside, assuming I'll find no one there, that I'll never know who left it open, and I'll never dress anyone down over it. But there is someone, slumped over the table at the far end of the room, wearing pilot's casuals with his back to the door.
I put on my XO voice, the one I hadn't bothered to use for years before this whole business started. "I don't know if you left your brain behind on the last jump or what, Lieutenant, but the last time I checked, regs said we close the hatches on this ship."
He glances up from the papers spread out on the table, turning his head just enough for me to realize that it's Lee. "Sorry, sir." His voice isn't as slurred with exhaustion as I expect, but his eyes aren't quite focusing, either. "But are you sure that's serious enough to demote me?"
Annotations
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Characters: Saul Tigh, Lee Adama
Author on LJ:
inlovewithnight Author Website: Fic Index
Why this must be read:
Remember back when things were relatively simple, before prophecies and politics and the fleet was torn apart again and again? This fic takes you back then. There's nothing flashy about this story, it's just a good character moment between two characters early on in the first season. This story takes place just after "33," and Saul Tigh is heading to his rack for some much needed sleep when he comes across Lee Adama trying to figure out his responsibilities as CAG. Both are exhausted, and neither really knows the other. What life will be like in the Fleet has yet to be seen. But for the first time, it seems like life might go on. In which case, the CAG and the XO had better get to know one another a little.
Twenty-six minutes, my body says, listening to a new clock that set itself up over these last few days from hell. It ought to be nice to have a mental cycle that doesn't run on booze, but I'd give a lot to not have this one. Seven minutes to go. Get to the CIC, brace for jump...
We're not jumping anymore, though; we're regrouping. Half of the crew has already been released from duty and crawled off to their racks. The other half is clawing out the rest of this shift on relief and sheer inertia. I wasn't sure if this was much of a crew, back when it didn't matter and I didn't care. But they're something, all right. They've got heart after all.
I'm dragging my sorry tail back to my bunk-- the Old Man insisted on finishing out this shift, and it's been years since it did any good to fight with him. Maybe it never did. Anyway, I'm not going to say no to the idea of sleep. Not ever again.
The door to the pilots' ready room is standing open, and changing course across the corridor to close it almost takes me down then and there. Probably wouldn't hurt anything to leave it open, but regs are regs and if we start letting them slip, we might as well have let the Cylons wipe us out at Ragnar.
I reach the door and glance inside, assuming I'll find no one there, that I'll never know who left it open, and I'll never dress anyone down over it. But there is someone, slumped over the table at the far end of the room, wearing pilot's casuals with his back to the door.
I put on my XO voice, the one I hadn't bothered to use for years before this whole business started. "I don't know if you left your brain behind on the last jump or what, Lieutenant, but the last time I checked, regs said we close the hatches on this ship."
He glances up from the papers spread out on the table, turning his head just enough for me to realize that it's Lee. "Sorry, sir." His voice isn't as slurred with exhaustion as I expect, but his eyes aren't quite focusing, either. "But are you sure that's serious enough to demote me?"
Annotations