When he disappointed her, it was because he lost his nerve and backed down from the fight, from her angle. He wanted to trade the momentary and organic politic of hope for something solid and timeless, to create new systems of law and judiciary that could let even Gaius Baltar go free for his scapegoat crimes. Her revolution couldn't handle that, and she left him. She came from Sagittaron, a staging ground for terrorists and pacifists, and was neither: just a girl who didn't believe in peace anymore, and broke her father's heart. Who followed her dream into the sky, into the stars, and became the voice of home. Who kept us on a steady path. Who held the dreams of an entire race in her hands, in her body, every single day, and never backed down from it; whose voice unceasingly called out to her pilots and sung them home again, all night and all day.
"We love you. We love you. We love you."
I: The Watchmaker
This is the last thing Saul Tigh will do on Earth, before the next wave hits: walk out into the ocean, the billion years of ocean, perpetual motion, uncaring and eternal. He will walk out where everything is grey and the black stones on the black beach reflect nothing, because there is no sun. No dawn's light, no fresh breeze, no Temple of Aurora: just sand, and sea, and stormclouds gathering. And he will look out at the ruined world, forgotten monuments, two thousand years of destroyed culture. His legs will ache; he won't notice the icy water clutching at his feet, calling him forward, singing him on and on into the deep. He will keep walking, out into the tides, and the world will end.
Gaius stands in the ruins of the Temple, alone with his thoughts. Finally alone. Sam watches the water rushing over the stones, rubbing off the hard edges and angles into smooth blankness. Anastasia Dualla kneels, holding water in her hands. Lee is barely standing, hot angry tears in his eyes, fragments shored up against a crumbling wall. Laura pulls one tender shoot from the ground, a spiky flower: nothing beautiful about it, only fierce life, spiny leaves reaching desperately for a sun it's never seen. She can barely hear Helo's report: all over the planet, there are no signs of life. D'Anna approaches, confirming these findings; Laura stares at her ugly blossom and thinks of nothing at all.