[Living on a ship under anxious and uncertain conditions had become normal, expected, and familiar to Lee. Truth be told, as much as he longed for a beach - even a simulated one - and the sun on his bare skin, water lapping at his toes... The environment of a ship had become a sort of comfort to him. He understood the way ships ran, from the mechanics of the thing itself, to the people who ran it. He had grown secure in the understanding of everyone in his life, living day by day, hour by hour, and sometimes, minute by minute.
The idea of suddenly being in the open, somewhere unfamiliar and organic, caused surges of anxiety he stubbornly swallowed down. It was only partially a desire to protect that motivated him to stay on the Pegasus when just about everyone else had gone planet-side to start a new life. Partially anxieties, largely related to Kara Thrace, some simply do to a love of what could be managed, simply, with one's own hands.
Or their fist. It depended.
This place brought a lot of the discomfort back. He was somewhere utterly unknown, but it was a ship, and the barriers erected around him and functional equation of the whole process comforted him like a blanket, for the same reason it caused panic in many. It was a similar psychology to why some people loved, and some people hated winters.
What he did not enjoy was the utter unimportance of his rank, his experience, and knowing absolutely no one had had encountered thus far. He tried to comfort himself with thoughts that somewhere out the in the universe (was it even the same one?) at least the fleet had Kara back. She'd be able to take care of them while he was stuck here.
He couldn't help but admire the view. The Galactic had been a stuffy old scrap heap, causing claustrophobia at the very least in most of her occupants. Windows like this would have made a significant impact on crew and civilian attitudes. Maybe if he ever had a chance, he would work on functional ship designs, based on his intimate experience spending years aboard intergalactic space crafts.
For now, he just wanted to feel nothing. To imagine he was out there, part of the beautiful swirls of color and clouds of gas.]
leland j. adama | battlestar galactica
[Living on a ship under anxious and uncertain conditions had become normal, expected, and familiar to Lee. Truth be told, as much as he longed for a beach - even a simulated one - and the sun on his bare skin, water lapping at his toes... The environment of a ship had become a sort of comfort to him. He understood the way ships ran, from the mechanics of the thing itself, to the people who ran it. He had grown secure in the understanding of everyone in his life, living day by day, hour by hour, and sometimes, minute by minute.
The idea of suddenly being in the open, somewhere unfamiliar and organic, caused surges of anxiety he stubbornly swallowed down. It was only partially a desire to protect that motivated him to stay on the Pegasus when just about everyone else had gone planet-side to start a new life. Partially anxieties, largely related to Kara Thrace, some simply do to a love of what could be managed, simply, with one's own hands.
Or their fist. It depended.
This place brought a lot of the discomfort back. He was somewhere utterly unknown, but it was a ship, and the barriers erected around him and functional equation of the whole process comforted him like a blanket, for the same reason it caused panic in many. It was a similar psychology to why some people loved, and some people hated winters.
What he did not enjoy was the utter unimportance of his rank, his experience, and knowing absolutely no one had had encountered thus far. He tried to comfort himself with thoughts that somewhere out the in the universe (was it even the same one?) at least the fleet had Kara back. She'd be able to take care of them while he was stuck here.
He couldn't help but admire the view. The Galactic had been a stuffy old scrap heap, causing claustrophobia at the very least in most of her occupants. Windows like this would have made a significant impact on crew and civilian attitudes. Maybe if he ever had a chance, he would work on functional ship designs, based on his intimate experience spending years aboard intergalactic space crafts.
For now, he just wanted to feel nothing. To imagine he was out there, part of the beautiful swirls of color and clouds of gas.]