The Girl Hanging By One Foot
"I think it's quite important for our ship's officers to get together every once in a while. Share some food, some wine, some good conversation. Ups morale." Fisk jokes that it's nice to "park [their] butts on a chair" for once. Cain's Law: no chairs, no rest. Only faster running. "Now that you're all here, I would like to take a moment to say a few words. In all seriousness, I said some things before, in the heat of emotion; things that I thought this crew needed to hear. But I don't want any of you for one moment to think that I would ever risk lives or resources in some mad quest for revenge. My plan is to wage an all-out classic guerilla war campaign. I want to find their weak links, and I want to hit them hard."
Adama's saying, "No armistice, no peace treaty, no mercy. This time we track them down and kill them. All of them. Until there's not one single Cylon left alive in the universe. And if God has a problem with that, he can sort it out on Judgment Day." Leoben is saying that this is the reason, for all of it: "As long as there's a human race, there's going to be a man out there like you." Or a woman.
"As they say," cutes Gina, "the best defense is a good offense," and they smile sweetly at each other. Fisk toasts the good offense, and "kicking some Cylon ass," and they toast. And Kendra stares around the table, Gina's smile, the warmth of the candles, Helena sipping her wine, Helena sitting in her chair. Helena, capable of love.
Gina and Kendra work easily together, firewalling systems, doing things with relays. Gina sighs, overworked: "I don't know how we could firewall these systems by tomorrow, unless we split up. And you're the only one with the access codes." Kendra almost grins, wryly suggesting that Gina speak to the Admiral about getting better security clearance. Gina blushes. "Here I thought we were being so discreet. Guess that's hard when you truly care for someone." I don't disbelieve her. In a few minutes, we'll see that Helena doesn't either: she explicitly states her authorization of Gina's torture because she knows Gina's capable of emotion, susceptible to it. That Gina is capable of love, just like herself. The program bleeps and Gina asks Kendra to input her code; Kendra pauses and sings it out, like a magic spell, like a true name: "Alpha one niner six gamma one." It's her true name, and that of Pegasus, in this moment; it's Kendra showing her appreciation for the comfort Gina brings Helena, her love of Gina, her trust after all this in Gina. Her need to be included in the family happening before her eyes: if Gina will love her, then by the transitive property, Helena's capability of love will extend to her too, and Kendra will be a daughter again. A daughter among orphans. "To satisfy your curiosity, we met a few months ago when I presented the plans for the retrofit," Gina smiles, pleased. "We spent a lot of time together working out the details and I guess one thing led to the other." Kendra shakes her head, and grins, but it's only because Helena's -- or is it Cain's? -- self-sufficiency is so legendary. Such a successful piece of marketing. "She has needs, just like the rest of us. No one can survive entirely on their own. Trust me, Lieutenant. In the end, we're all just human." The music goes, unnecessarily, "DOOOOOOOM!" But you know me; Gina loves, so she's just human too, or else "human" has no meaning at all.