By ChaosEternus Chapter 19
It wasn't long before I had to officially start training for another job aboard Galactica , my research moving to the back burner. For whilst I, with the assistance of Gaeta had thrown out a number of useful bones early on, this had now started too dry up and it was painfully clear that the answers to the biggest question, how to cure Boomer, didn't exist in the archives available to me aboard Galactica, even with permanent access to the Earth shuttlecraft Tempest.
Adama swiftly seemed to place me onto Command Track and had me learning the basics of very aspect of a Colonial Battlestar, everything from becoming a qualified Viper pilot to learning about ship repair and Colonial Rank structures. I had two ideas about what he had planned for me, perhaps the first Earth Battlestar Commander, assuming Earth could be persuaded to prepare for the war in time or maybe his successor to Command of the Galactica.
Actually, I didn't believe either of those options, neither seemed quite to ring true and the thought did cross my mind that maybe Adama wasn't entirely sure where I fit either, but was willing to try me anywhere just looking for somewhere I could work and be content. Dafydd and Donelly had their places, Fighter Pilot and Engineer and they were more then happy with it but wherever he put me, I worked hard, learnt more but never fit despite the easy acceptance of the Galactica crew.
I suspected it was that Command Track mind of mine, whilst it could be distracted by an important task, such as the research for a while; it was still a Command Track mind with a Command track mentality. I found it too easy to maintain a CO's distance between myself and whoever I worked with, too easy to slip into the patterns that labelled me not as a Pilot or engineer or even Cook (Had a great time as Cook aboard Galactica, set off the fire alarms twice before they decided that wasn't for me) but as a Commanding Officer.
Unfortunately for my piece of mind, there wasn't a ship for me to Command. Wasn't anyone answerable to me, I was, despite being a friend of Adama and Gaeta , pretty low on the totem pole. For me, it was a lonely and depressing time.
Even the celebrations surrounding the commissioning of the Transporter of the Books as an official Colonial Warship, in particular, as a Fleet Carrier didn't do much to make me happier, to lose a little of the despondent, depressed edge I had gained. I didn't even smile when Mile-high', in the middle of an acrobatics display, decided to break off the acrobatics and just show Starbuck who exactly was the better pilot. It had to be declared a draw when both pilots ran out of fuel without either ever managing to get a clear shot at the other.
Course, in theory they both get a rollicking for that one but I rather suspected it was more theory' than rollicking', after all, even Commanders enjoy a display of great flying every now and again.
Still, time passed as I found myself more and more at a loose end, more and more ships grew batteries of railguns, Cylon attacks swiftly slowed then disappeared entirely and we grew closer and closer to Earth, to home with every day.
Course, even I had to smile, even if it was only for a moment, when Mile-high' did it again, this time with Crewman Cally helping to provide the sound effects over the accidentally' switched on radio, an event she never quite lived down.
But still, we were far from any safety and my mood hadn't yet improved, nor would it for quite some time.