Drop The Pilot
Giana smiled to herself; in the weeks and months since then he'd begin to dream about it. His dream foot, rising up one step at a time, all the way to the top. Galen almost wept for her, for himself; he kissed her instead. Not a romantic kiss, not anything but the need to connect. Like Caprica to the broken Six, years hence. Once this movie gets awesome it doesn't stop. Galen sat back, amazed and a little appalled at himself, and apologized; she smiled and brushed her hand across the curly hairs at the back of his neck, like a sister. Of all of them, of any human in the Fleet, they were the only two that held this secret. They held the wheel together; two machinists become pilots for the moment. They sat quietly until her breathing slowed, and she could look at the picture of Simon; she smiled at him: Her husband. Her tears began to dry.
"You think you're a Cylon," Cavil said, as Galen remembered his dreams. "That's what you're afraid of, isn't it? That you might be a Cylon and not even know it, just like Boomer. Right?" Into the swan-dive, arms thrown out. Demanding love. "That's the thought that's crippling your soul," Cavil said, begging Galen once again to submit to the trial; to be at peace with it. His fingers drummed against the desk. "Does that frighten you? The idea of putting your trust in others?" Galen nodded. "I've done it," Cavil said, stretching the moment out. "And they all let me down. Every single one. Every single one. So yeah, it should scare the frak out of you." He left Galen horrified; the Gods died that day. His father was a Priest, his mother was an Oracle. Drop the pilot.
Cavil took the wheel on Caprica: "This is quite a scrappy little group, just your core people. There's hardly anyone left for you to lean on. But you can lean on me." Sam remembered the day they took Kara and Sue-Shaun: he had 98 people to pilot. He loved every one of them. "But you didn't need them," Cavil said, still confused. "And they're dead! Do you mean to tell me that you'd go on loving them even when they're dead?" If love outlasts death, then the apocalypse was nothing. The Holocaust was burned and burning bodies that merely left; that left everything real behind. Sam began to shudder.