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Entry tags:
BSG2003; Farstrider drabbles (pt. 3)
Title: Farstrider (11) - (15)
Pairings: Apollo x Helo (pre-slash), Helo x Eight, Helo x Anders (pre-slash)
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica 2003
Rating: G to PG
Warnings: AU. Unbeta-ed. Jumps from person to person, not always with any indication of who the main character is.
Disclaimer: I don't own BSG, I don't make any money doing this, and the intention is to amuse, not offend.
Summary: In which Lee "Apollo" Adama is the one sent after Apollo's Arrow on Caprica after his father is shot.
(11)
"Thanks," Helo said with a wry little smile, and Apollo raised an eyebrow at him.
"For..." he asked leadingly after a drawn out pause, not sure what he had ever done for the younger pilot.
"For bringing me home," Helo replied, as if Lee were either slow or stupid, or maybe both. Apollo shrugged and returned the wry little smile.
"We don't leave our men behind," he said after a moment, voice softer and more tender than he had meant it to be, almost wistful. Helo tried to smile, but it looked like a grimace, because they were both thinking about the survivors of the holocaust back on Caprica, who had been left behind, who would die there, killed quickly by the Cylons or more slowly by radiation, starvation and disease.
(12)
Laura watched the two young men through slitted eyes. She had come to know Lee quite well over the past few days. There was nothing for either of them to do but talk to one another and pace. Now, she saw the way Lee glanced up at the taller man through his lashes, saw the tension in Lee's muscular shoulders. The young officer was chafing at his captivity, that accounted for some of the tension. But Laura was certain there was more to it than that. She wracked her mind, trying to remember the taller man. He had a familiarity about him, but mostly because the only distinguishing characteristic to his person was his height. He was pale skinned, probably a Caprican, muscular, clean shaven with short brown hair. He had a military bearing, was perhaps a man who had flown with Lee before, and was bringing him news from the rest of the ship. But there was a sort of sickliness to him well, and a deep sadness that baffled Laura. He reminded her too much of herself, of the cancer that raged in her body and sapped the strength from her limbs.
(13)
"So who is he?" Came a soft voice after lights out, and Lee started in surprise. He had assumed the President asleep, as she so frequently was. He sat, then stood, going to the caging between their cells.
"His name is Karl Agathon," he said softly, letting himself down to sit on the floor. "Helo. A Raptor flying officer. He was left behind, on Caprica. He's the one who gave up his seat for Dr. Baltar. He - he saved my life down there, and somehow he feels like he owes me." Lee smiled wryly in the dark, baffled still by Helo's sincere gratitude. He knew that the chances were pretty good that if Helo had managed to survive the radiation poisoning down on Caprica, the Cylons would get him. But the honesty in Helo's eyes, the heartfelt admiration of the younger man, it was a hard thing to see. Especially knowing that if he hadn't happened across Helo, he never would have sought him or any of the other survivors out, never would have tried to save a single one of them.
"You want to go back," the President's voice said softly in the darkness, and Lee had to laugh softly.
"With all my heart," he finally answered, but the other cell was silent. The President had drifted off to sleep.
(14)
Kara leaned against the hatch for a long moment, watching him. He was still underweight, leaner than she remembered. His face was shadowed with fatigue and hollow with hunger and sickness. His eyes, that had once been so cheery, were flat and dull with ghosts and memories.
"Want a spotter?" She asked, unable to bear the stillness, and Helo looked up sharply, wariness making his features a mask of danger.
"Hey Kara," he said tiredly, expression warming, and she forced a smile, hardly able to bear the wear in his voice. "That would be great," he said, mopping his face with the towel in his large, capable hands, than racking some more weight onto the bar and laying back down on the bench. "Gotta get back in flying shape," he said with an attempt at a joking smile. "Someone's gotta watch your six out there." She returned the smile tightly and stood at the head of the bench, hands beneath the bar in case his grip failed or his arms gave out under the weight. An hour went by in silence, lifting and spotting in turn, then breaking out the sparring mitts and taping their knuckles. She bested him quickly, and she hated how weak he was, this mountain of a man who had been her best friend nearly as long as she could remember.
(15)
Helo paused, one hand against the steel framework of the Battlestar as he doubled over, chest heaving. He was still so weak, constantly short of breath as he fought to join the ranks of pilots on the Galactica. He had been aboard for a ship's month now, and was only just getting his strength back. He hated it, hated how the radiation had sapped him, hated that he hadn't been able to save anyone else down there. He could still see their faces in his mind, especially the others who had been fighters. He pushed away thoughts of Sam Anders, his clear blue eyes and shaggy dark hair, his trim, muscular build and sardonic sense of humor. He never would have expected the superstar athlete to be one of his better friends, but when he and Sharon - he shook his head to clear it, then straightened up and began to jog again. He still couldn't think of her without the conflicting anger and sadness welling up in his chest. Thinking of Anders and the other resistance fighters didn't help his mood either, and so he stopped thinking, and just ran.
Pairings: Apollo x Helo (pre-slash), Helo x Eight, Helo x Anders (pre-slash)
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica 2003
Rating: G to PG
Warnings: AU. Unbeta-ed. Jumps from person to person, not always with any indication of who the main character is.
Disclaimer: I don't own BSG, I don't make any money doing this, and the intention is to amuse, not offend.
Summary: In which Lee "Apollo" Adama is the one sent after Apollo's Arrow on Caprica after his father is shot.
(11)
"Thanks," Helo said with a wry little smile, and Apollo raised an eyebrow at him.
"For..." he asked leadingly after a drawn out pause, not sure what he had ever done for the younger pilot.
"For bringing me home," Helo replied, as if Lee were either slow or stupid, or maybe both. Apollo shrugged and returned the wry little smile.
"We don't leave our men behind," he said after a moment, voice softer and more tender than he had meant it to be, almost wistful. Helo tried to smile, but it looked like a grimace, because they were both thinking about the survivors of the holocaust back on Caprica, who had been left behind, who would die there, killed quickly by the Cylons or more slowly by radiation, starvation and disease.
(12)
Laura watched the two young men through slitted eyes. She had come to know Lee quite well over the past few days. There was nothing for either of them to do but talk to one another and pace. Now, she saw the way Lee glanced up at the taller man through his lashes, saw the tension in Lee's muscular shoulders. The young officer was chafing at his captivity, that accounted for some of the tension. But Laura was certain there was more to it than that. She wracked her mind, trying to remember the taller man. He had a familiarity about him, but mostly because the only distinguishing characteristic to his person was his height. He was pale skinned, probably a Caprican, muscular, clean shaven with short brown hair. He had a military bearing, was perhaps a man who had flown with Lee before, and was bringing him news from the rest of the ship. But there was a sort of sickliness to him well, and a deep sadness that baffled Laura. He reminded her too much of herself, of the cancer that raged in her body and sapped the strength from her limbs.
(13)
"So who is he?" Came a soft voice after lights out, and Lee started in surprise. He had assumed the President asleep, as she so frequently was. He sat, then stood, going to the caging between their cells.
"His name is Karl Agathon," he said softly, letting himself down to sit on the floor. "Helo. A Raptor flying officer. He was left behind, on Caprica. He's the one who gave up his seat for Dr. Baltar. He - he saved my life down there, and somehow he feels like he owes me." Lee smiled wryly in the dark, baffled still by Helo's sincere gratitude. He knew that the chances were pretty good that if Helo had managed to survive the radiation poisoning down on Caprica, the Cylons would get him. But the honesty in Helo's eyes, the heartfelt admiration of the younger man, it was a hard thing to see. Especially knowing that if he hadn't happened across Helo, he never would have sought him or any of the other survivors out, never would have tried to save a single one of them.
"You want to go back," the President's voice said softly in the darkness, and Lee had to laugh softly.
"With all my heart," he finally answered, but the other cell was silent. The President had drifted off to sleep.
(14)
Kara leaned against the hatch for a long moment, watching him. He was still underweight, leaner than she remembered. His face was shadowed with fatigue and hollow with hunger and sickness. His eyes, that had once been so cheery, were flat and dull with ghosts and memories.
"Want a spotter?" She asked, unable to bear the stillness, and Helo looked up sharply, wariness making his features a mask of danger.
"Hey Kara," he said tiredly, expression warming, and she forced a smile, hardly able to bear the wear in his voice. "That would be great," he said, mopping his face with the towel in his large, capable hands, than racking some more weight onto the bar and laying back down on the bench. "Gotta get back in flying shape," he said with an attempt at a joking smile. "Someone's gotta watch your six out there." She returned the smile tightly and stood at the head of the bench, hands beneath the bar in case his grip failed or his arms gave out under the weight. An hour went by in silence, lifting and spotting in turn, then breaking out the sparring mitts and taping their knuckles. She bested him quickly, and she hated how weak he was, this mountain of a man who had been her best friend nearly as long as she could remember.
(15)
Helo paused, one hand against the steel framework of the Battlestar as he doubled over, chest heaving. He was still so weak, constantly short of breath as he fought to join the ranks of pilots on the Galactica. He had been aboard for a ship's month now, and was only just getting his strength back. He hated it, hated how the radiation had sapped him, hated that he hadn't been able to save anyone else down there. He could still see their faces in his mind, especially the others who had been fighters. He pushed away thoughts of Sam Anders, his clear blue eyes and shaggy dark hair, his trim, muscular build and sardonic sense of humor. He never would have expected the superstar athlete to be one of his better friends, but when he and Sharon - he shook his head to clear it, then straightened up and began to jog again. He still couldn't think of her without the conflicting anger and sadness welling up in his chest. Thinking of Anders and the other resistance fighters didn't help his mood either, and so he stopped thinking, and just ran.