Felix Gaeta (didwhaticould) wrote in marinanova, @ 2016-05-07 22:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | damon salvatore, felix gaeta, martha jones |
Day 374 - Open Dreams
1: Face of the Enemy
[You're in a tent. The worn canvas does little to keep out the biting cold, and the dim light provided by a number of candles does even less to chase away the darkness creeping in from outside. A threadbare rug covers the dirt floor—a futile attempt to make a hovel feel like a home. Gaeta and a young woman are silently pulling on frayed clothes. The rumpled blanket on a nearby cot hints at what took place before your arrival.]
[The young woman finishes buttoning up her blouse and turns to Gaeta, a sad smile on her face.] I'll try to get more of them out. Do you have another list?
Yes, I... [Gaeta shuffles through a stack of papers on a low desk to find a list of names. Last name first, alphabetized. He offers it to her with considerable hesitation.] This is it.
[She takes it, touching his fingers with hers and lingering a bit too long.] You can trust me, Felix. We'll get as many of your people out of detention as we can... together. [She leans in to kiss him. Everything about her is sweet and gentle.] Trust me.
I do. [He squeezes her hand and escorts her to the door.] I'll see you soon?
Soon. [She drops his hand and turns to exit the tent. Her smile twists into something darker as she walks into the cold night.]
[Gaeta runs a nervous hand through his hair and smooths out the wrinkles in a shirt that will never be unwrinkled. He notices you for the first time.] Frak! [Clearly, you were not expected.] What are you doing in here? It's after curfew.
2: Collaborators
[The halls of the Galactica are rusted and dented and covered with the kind of dirt that accumulates with age and never scrubs off—a far cry from the sleek spaceships on television and in movies. The lights are low. The battlestar's low hum is interrupted only by the occasional footsteps on metal flooring...]
[...and, now, an angry male voice. It comes from the launch bay to your left.] Turn around! On your knees!
[You follow the noises into the bay. Gaeta kneeling on the floor, hands ziptied behind his back, looking up at the six people circled around him with equal parts shock and resignation.]
Felix Gaeta, you've been tried and found guilty of crimes against humanity by a circle of your peers, as duly authorized by the President of the Colonies. [The woman sounds impatient. These words don't mean anything; everyone knows how this ends.] If you have any words to offer in your own defense, now is the time.
[One of the men in the circle—the only one who looks like he would rather be anywhere else, doing anything else—glances over at you. He's desperate. For what, you don't know. An ally? Someone to help him put an end to this?]
[What do you do?]