gam3rgrrl
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- Posted: Mon, 14 Apr 2014 05:15:22 +0000
When they first found the young man, Commander William Adama wasn't sure what to make of him. Unconscious and alone on a planet far outside known inhabited wore colors and a uniform unlike anything the Colonial Fleet had ever come into contact with before.
The only reasonable explanation was that he was a Cylon agent, yet his injuries contested that fact. Upon his revival he had been confused, disoriented, talking about ship of humans from an unknown region of space. Starfleet. The Federation. Voyager. These words, spoken by the young man, had only elicited confusion in both President Laura Roslin.
That had been months ago. In the first few days after he had been released by Doc Cottle he had been kept under constant guard, confined to the brig. As the days the young man continued to profess his innocence - and even ignorance of the Cylons - both Adama and Roslin had been forced to admit that perhaps the young what he claimed to be.
An alien, startlingly similar to their own people, but from another, unexplored region of space.
So he was integrated into the general population, given star charts in the hopes of finding his home. Of finding the Federation Starship Voyager.
One of the first things that had become immediately obvious was the advanced state of this young mans knowledge. He had quickly proven his worth working on were in constant need of repair, as well as any number of Galactica's systems that had grown fragile and finicky with age. His usefulness came not from an intuitive of Engineering, but from what Adama could only imagine was extensive training. Few educated people had made it out of the Twelve Colonies alive, and he was thankful whatever knowledge Kim could provide.
He was not, however, thankful for yet another mouth to feed.
. . .
It was surprisingly easy to integrate Harry Kim into the general population, President Laura Roslin reflected with a small smile. There were enough survivors scattered several ships that Kim had been accepted onto the Galactica without too much fuss. It wasn't exactly common practice to transfer from one ship to another these nothing was really "common practice" anymore.
Settling herself down onto her bed with a small sigh, Laura stared across the room with a small frown as she considered the young man whose origins were still a them. He didn't speak often of his home, and for that Laura had been grateful from the onset; learning that he was not, in fact, even of the same species as the survivors of the Twelve Colonies would have induced nothing short of a mass panic. It had required her to look long and deep at her own beliefs in order to incorporate truth; that they were not alone out here, that there were others. Still, her curiosity had been piqued - who were his people, and more importantly, where were they? left to his death on that planet - if they had not come along, Laura had little doubt that he would have eventually succumbed to either the harsh conditions of the of food. And he had proven himself to be a valuable member of the crew - and a surprisingly small drain on their resources.
Unless one counted their supply of alcohol. Normally, she stayed out of such matters; between her own illness and her duty to the people that remained, Laura generally out of the personal affairs of both the crew and civilians. Harry Kim, however, had garnered her interested from the first moment they had met. It was hard not to young mans increasing reliance on both alcochol and other substances as time went on. New Caprica had hit him just as hard as everybody else, though perhaps reasons.
New Caprica had been a hard lesson for all of them to learn. They were not safe; they would never be safe. Not as long as the Cylons continued to exist. They would them. But for Kim, it had been the first time he had been forced to face the true evil that existed under the humanoid facade that the Cylons presented. Until that only heard the stories - she had seen it in his eyes every time another tale of destruction was relayed in his presence. He had never truly believed the Cylons could without mercy or humanity as they were made out to be.
Then he had spent an undetermined amount of time in their company. He never spoke of that time, and Laura couldn't blame him. What she did know, was that torture at their hands. They had been searching for something - what, she didn't know. Had they learned of his extra terrestrial origins? Did they want to know what tick, what made him different from those who had created them? Or had he simply been the unlucky one to face their wrath that day? Whatever their reasons, either they had not been shared with Harry Kim, or he had decided not to share them with his rescuers.
Laura wasn't sure which would be worse.
The only reasonable explanation was that he was a Cylon agent, yet his injuries contested that fact. Upon his revival he had been confused, disoriented, talking about ship of humans from an unknown region of space. Starfleet. The Federation. Voyager. These words, spoken by the young man, had only elicited confusion in both President Laura Roslin.
That had been months ago. In the first few days after he had been released by Doc Cottle he had been kept under constant guard, confined to the brig. As the days the young man continued to profess his innocence - and even ignorance of the Cylons - both Adama and Roslin had been forced to admit that perhaps the young what he claimed to be.
An alien, startlingly similar to their own people, but from another, unexplored region of space.
So he was integrated into the general population, given star charts in the hopes of finding his home. Of finding the Federation Starship Voyager.
One of the first things that had become immediately obvious was the advanced state of this young mans knowledge. He had quickly proven his worth working on were in constant need of repair, as well as any number of Galactica's systems that had grown fragile and finicky with age. His usefulness came not from an intuitive of Engineering, but from what Adama could only imagine was extensive training. Few educated people had made it out of the Twelve Colonies alive, and he was thankful whatever knowledge Kim could provide.
He was not, however, thankful for yet another mouth to feed.
. . .
It was surprisingly easy to integrate Harry Kim into the general population, President Laura Roslin reflected with a small smile. There were enough survivors scattered several ships that Kim had been accepted onto the Galactica without too much fuss. It wasn't exactly common practice to transfer from one ship to another these nothing was really "common practice" anymore.
Settling herself down onto her bed with a small sigh, Laura stared across the room with a small frown as she considered the young man whose origins were still a them. He didn't speak often of his home, and for that Laura had been grateful from the onset; learning that he was not, in fact, even of the same species as the survivors of the Twelve Colonies would have induced nothing short of a mass panic. It had required her to look long and deep at her own beliefs in order to incorporate truth; that they were not alone out here, that there were others. Still, her curiosity had been piqued - who were his people, and more importantly, where were they? left to his death on that planet - if they had not come along, Laura had little doubt that he would have eventually succumbed to either the harsh conditions of the of food. And he had proven himself to be a valuable member of the crew - and a surprisingly small drain on their resources.
Unless one counted their supply of alcohol. Normally, she stayed out of such matters; between her own illness and her duty to the people that remained, Laura generally out of the personal affairs of both the crew and civilians. Harry Kim, however, had garnered her interested from the first moment they had met. It was hard not to young mans increasing reliance on both alcochol and other substances as time went on. New Caprica had hit him just as hard as everybody else, though perhaps reasons.
New Caprica had been a hard lesson for all of them to learn. They were not safe; they would never be safe. Not as long as the Cylons continued to exist. They would them. But for Kim, it had been the first time he had been forced to face the true evil that existed under the humanoid facade that the Cylons presented. Until that only heard the stories - she had seen it in his eyes every time another tale of destruction was relayed in his presence. He had never truly believed the Cylons could without mercy or humanity as they were made out to be.
Then he had spent an undetermined amount of time in their company. He never spoke of that time, and Laura couldn't blame him. What she did know, was that torture at their hands. They had been searching for something - what, she didn't know. Had they learned of his extra terrestrial origins? Did they want to know what tick, what made him different from those who had created them? Or had he simply been the unlucky one to face their wrath that day? Whatever their reasons, either they had not been shared with Harry Kim, or he had decided not to share them with his rescuers.
Laura wasn't sure which would be worse.