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Feb. 12th, 2014 04:30 pmWhen Gaius was a child, Gaius had been fascinated with Red Line Theory. In fact, it was part of the reason why he studied astrophysics as a result. The theory stated that there were limitations to how far a faster-than-light jump could take you. The farther a ship moves from its point of origin, the more difficult it is to calculate a successful jump.
The past year or two had made him acutely aware of the Red Lines in his own life; points he had crossed -- moral points -- that had made it more difficult, if not impossible for him to return to where he came from.
There was no restoring the Twelve Colonies. There was no winning back the favor of the Cylons or the humans. And now, as far as he understood it, there was no returning home. No one seemed to know of a way to return home -- or if they did, they weren't telling.
Gaius, however, didn't want to return home. He was quite content to live his life here, in Darrow, away from the constant near life-and-death situations. Away from all the people he once knew, most of whom likely wanted him dead.
Living here was as close as Gaius was going to come to crossing that Red Line back home, before the Cylon attack on the Twelve Colonies. He had warm, new clothes on his back, a hot coffee in his hand, and an apartment -- his apartment, which, as far as he can tell, is safe, and far, far away from the life he lived until three days ago.
The past year or two had made him acutely aware of the Red Lines in his own life; points he had crossed -- moral points -- that had made it more difficult, if not impossible for him to return to where he came from.
There was no restoring the Twelve Colonies. There was no winning back the favor of the Cylons or the humans. And now, as far as he understood it, there was no returning home. No one seemed to know of a way to return home -- or if they did, they weren't telling.
Gaius, however, didn't want to return home. He was quite content to live his life here, in Darrow, away from the constant near life-and-death situations. Away from all the people he once knew, most of whom likely wanted him dead.
Living here was as close as Gaius was going to come to crossing that Red Line back home, before the Cylon attack on the Twelve Colonies. He had warm, new clothes on his back, a hot coffee in his hand, and an apartment -- his apartment, which, as far as he can tell, is safe, and far, far away from the life he lived until three days ago.
