OUR TOIL SHALL STRIVE TO MEND
Three awakes, alone in the universe, attended by a puppet and a miraculous engine in the shape of a man. She gasps, horrified. Her last memory is one of being killed, possibly forever, by the same brother and priest that considers her now. Boomer is a dark acolyte to a man with a mission. She awakes still bathed in joy; in delight, for the truth and the light that is to come. One look around takes all that away, and the wiliness takes over. Three is anybody you want, if that's who is required. In this room, she is the trickster.
"You told me I'd never have to go through this again." No ceremonies are necessary. Live as if you've never lived before. She is a single, a solitary soul in the universe. The only body that contains a Three, or will. They decided; she fell apart. She will, no doubt, adapt. I was so fascinated by a frisky Laura that I didn't think about the fucking destruction a frisky Three could cause with one pinkie finger. "I lied," he says. Third mistake right there -- the first was fucking with her, the second was bringing her back. I don't like many things as much as I like her.
Three puts them together, the facts on the ground; easy. "You thought you were putting me away forever. So what changed?" War. "A genuine Cylon civil war. Ones and Fours and Fives, against the Twos and Sixes and Eights that objected to your retirement. Now your supporters are working with humans against all the rest of us. All in your name." She thinks that's awesome. Of course she does. It is. She struggles up, getting stronger before your eyes; turns her eyes to poor fucked-up Boomer. "Boomer's an Eight, shouldn't she be on the other side?" Cavil explains as only a gross old robot man can that Boomer's his "pet Eight," who's seen the light of reason. (I keep going on and on about how Tory's lying to herself all the time, how you have to be careful who you pretend to be because that's what you are, but what about nasty old Cavil? He says he's a robot all the time, but he's also the horniest old goat in the universe. Since Heinlein died, anyway.) "And an Eight can make a passionate ally." Three's breezy and mean, as usual: "Oh, until she sees something shiny." Boomer's angry. At herself, too. Mostly. Three rests easily. "Why'd you bring me back, anyway?" He doesn't move; he's most ceremonial. "I brought you to heal us, sister, and end this shameful war."