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There was nothing like rejoining civilisation to give one a little perspective on the terrors of their recent past. Ever since their rescue from Caprica, Sam felt oddly out of place amongst people - the crew, the military officers and even the civilians - aboard Galactica. It was odd, particularly after spending so much time isolated on a besieged planet, being hunted by psychotic robots masquerading as humans.
Even Kara was different. Distant. They still had something going on between them but it had been muted by events in between. She was in recovery, much like himself.
He missed his old life.
Of course, he didn't know anyone who didn't miss their life before the destruction of the Twelve Colonies. That wasn't to say there weren't any, but most people were simply still too devastated to anything but take it one day at a time. And pray.
Sam had never really followed any of the religious beliefs of the Twelve Colonies. More often than not he caught himself thinking that the Scriptures were nothing more than tales of superstition and nonsense used to frighten the children into doing the 'right thing'
No, he'd placed his faith in something far more real. Something tangible and true and of great importance to himself. There was nothing better than a game of pyramid, regardless of whether it was professional or for pure personal entertainment. It had become his entire life, and he'd dedicated himself to it.
Whatever Kara said in jest, he'd been - and still was - great at the game. That was why he'd made sure the Resistance always had a Pyramid court. They'd been fighting non-stop, but they'd needed a release that didn't involve killing Cylons or blowing up sites. Something human.
It was Gaeta who told him about the unused space below the hangar deck that housed nothing but empty boxes and old, rusting spare parts. It wasn't a large space, but it was big enough for his purpose, and eventually word got around about what he was doing.
At first only a few people showed up; mostly his old crew. Slowly others decided to see for themselves, and the make-shift Pyramid court was occupied more often than not, with people who'd played the game before, and those who hadn't.
It was the little piece of himself that he'd thought he'd lost. Now he was sharing it with other lost souls.
Someday they would find a new home.
And some traditions needed to be preserved.