Battlestar Galactica Ficlet: Atlas (englisch, kurz)
Disclaimer: I don't own them. The people at Sci-Fi do.
Thanks to: Beccatoria for beta reading.
Timeline: early season one.
Feedback to: hmpf1998@gmx.net
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 A relic like his ship's outdated navigational systems, an island like its non-networked computers.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.
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