Time and Chance Happen to Them All
Title: Time and Chance Happen to Them All
Author: northeto
Rating: T
Timeline: Somewhere in 4.5, but before the finale
Characters: Kara Thrace, Adama/Roslin
Word Count: 358
Author’s note: I wrote the first draft of this story months ago now (it was a huge mess, and close to 1000 words). I kept returning to it in an attempt to finish it, but was wholly unsuccessful in doing so. I pulled it out again for this challenge, and decided I was really going to finish it this time. I’m posting it now, before I’m tempted to rework it yet again.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my world, not making money. No copyright infringement intended.
Kara cannot help but notice the change in the Old Man and Roslin. She would have to be both blind and dumb not to, and while she is dead, there is nothing wrong with her senses. When the Admiral and the President are in the same room together, the very air around them shouts their connection: “These two are together, in every sense of the word.”
There is a quiet sort of beauty to Adama and Roslin’s relationship. It is not something Kara has personal experience with, but she can appreciate it, nonetheless. It is delicate and lovely and subtle. It is beauty amongst death and destruction, and it is also balance, finely tuned and ever changing, adjusting to maintain itself.
Some days she hates them for it. It does not seem fair, in a universe so frakked up and wrong and falling apart that there could be something so utterly right and lovely. It is not fair, not when her own existence is so frakked up. Frakked up Kara Thrace, who could not even do something as simple as dying, correctly. Perhaps this is punishment from the gods for a lifetime of breaking every rule she could find.
Other days, Kara is grateful that there are two people at least, who have managed to create something out of the ashes of humanity. It is against all odds and expectations that Adama and Roslin are beautiful together. They are old and tired and burdened by terrible responsibility, and yet, they are beautiful.
Before she died, Kara took it as sign from the gods, that if something like this could exist, despite everything, then there must yet be hope for humanity. Now that she is dead, she cannot help thinking (even if it is blasphemous), that the gods have a twisted sense of humor to set before her this exquisite example of love, between a dying woman and an old man.
Maybe she misinterpreted the sign, maybe it’s not one of hope after all. Maybe the best humanity can hope for is a little comfort, one final connection before the end. There certainly is no hope left for her.
Author: northeto
Rating: T
Timeline: Somewhere in 4.5, but before the finale
Characters: Kara Thrace, Adama/Roslin
Word Count: 358
Author’s note: I wrote the first draft of this story months ago now (it was a huge mess, and close to 1000 words). I kept returning to it in an attempt to finish it, but was wholly unsuccessful in doing so. I pulled it out again for this challenge, and decided I was really going to finish it this time. I’m posting it now, before I’m tempted to rework it yet again.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my world, not making money. No copyright infringement intended.
Kara cannot help but notice the change in the Old Man and Roslin. She would have to be both blind and dumb not to, and while she is dead, there is nothing wrong with her senses. When the Admiral and the President are in the same room together, the very air around them shouts their connection: “These two are together, in every sense of the word.”
There is a quiet sort of beauty to Adama and Roslin’s relationship. It is not something Kara has personal experience with, but she can appreciate it, nonetheless. It is delicate and lovely and subtle. It is beauty amongst death and destruction, and it is also balance, finely tuned and ever changing, adjusting to maintain itself.
Some days she hates them for it. It does not seem fair, in a universe so frakked up and wrong and falling apart that there could be something so utterly right and lovely. It is not fair, not when her own existence is so frakked up. Frakked up Kara Thrace, who could not even do something as simple as dying, correctly. Perhaps this is punishment from the gods for a lifetime of breaking every rule she could find.
Other days, Kara is grateful that there are two people at least, who have managed to create something out of the ashes of humanity. It is against all odds and expectations that Adama and Roslin are beautiful together. They are old and tired and burdened by terrible responsibility, and yet, they are beautiful.
Before she died, Kara took it as sign from the gods, that if something like this could exist, despite everything, then there must yet be hope for humanity. Now that she is dead, she cannot help thinking (even if it is blasphemous), that the gods have a twisted sense of humor to set before her this exquisite example of love, between a dying woman and an old man.
Maybe she misinterpreted the sign, maybe it’s not one of hope after all. Maybe the best humanity can hope for is a little comfort, one final connection before the end. There certainly is no hope left for her.