BSG ficlet: Atlas

Enjoy it while it lasts; this is very probably the only BSG fic I'm ever going to write. The show doesn't give me many bunnies. Oh, and can anyone recommend me a good BSG community and/or archive to post this to?


Disclaimer: I don't own them. The people at Sci-Fi do.

Thanks: to beccatoria for beta reading.

Timeline: beginning of season one.

Website: http://www.allabouthmpf.com/atlas.htm


Atlas

He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He is grey, solid. A relic like his ship's outdated navigational systems, an island like its non-networked computers. Tough enough to be obeyed at no more than a whisper.

He rarely does more than that. Whisper, murmur, a low rumble from the depths of his chest. Conserving energy. Or maybe he simply detests authority that relies on volume.

His authority is in the set of his shoulders, the thought behind his glasses.

He is military, and she has never trusted the military.

She trusts him.

*

She carries the weight of the world on her shoulders.

She is slender, flexible, unbreaking like a reed. Where there is no hope, she makes hope.

She, neither, needs to raise her voice. She speaks with a smile that says 'I will prevail'. And does.

Nothing to do with power. Everything to do with what is right.

She is a politician, and he has never trusted politicians.

He trusts her.

*

She does not command. He does not obey. He listens. Then goes and does as she says.

This is how they carry the weight of the world.

Planning/wishful thinking

I'd like to finish 68 Wives within the next two months, my untitled Maya fic sometime soon after that, and Found In Translation by the end of the year.

Of course, that would mean finishing five stories in 2006, which would be an unheard-of number for me... a real record. So maybe I shouldn't set my hopes so high.

Gnarf. I want to be able to write faster.

Resurrections and death

I just noticed a very obvious pattern in my fic. Death (that's death, not Death with a capital D) is everywhere:

I curently have twelve finished fics and thirteen unfinished ones. Four or five of these are either completely or at least to a large degree about grieving. Four involve a literal or figurative resurrection, and deal with how the grieving person accordingly moves from grieving to, well, not grieving. Two stories end with the protagonist's death; and two begin with it - both of these are, in some ways, about dying.