The Girl Hanging By One Foot
"Fear gets you killed, and anger keeps you alive." -- Socrata Thrace, Corporal, Colonial Marine Corps. Razor. Forgiven.
In the daytime world, Cain walks the halls, being loved and stared at by the three-quarters of her crew that's left. Cain takes Command; Cain works with Kendra's eyes on her. These are her people. Her people, her imperative. Cain makes plans, solves problems, works out equations. Cain creates life from anger, where there was only fear and death. Cain requires nothing of them that she wouldn't ask of herself, and praises their anger, and buttons them up.
In the night, Helena walks the morgue, staring in love at the one-quarter of her crew that's gone. Helena falls to her knees; Helena closes the staring eyes of a crewman she didn't save. Helena makes plans, solves problems, works out equations. Helena will create life from anger, erasing fear and death in the name of war. Helena will ask of them nothing that she doesn't ask of herself. Helena's parents drew the fire, so she would be safe, and now she will be Cain. Between the temple and the altar, she will burn away the humanity of her crew, so that humanity will live on. She grieves for them, for the one-quarter, for twelve worlds, for the billion burned and dying children of Gaius Baltar; she grieves for herself, for all the burning she has yet to do. She buttons up; she clicks closed like a knife.
"Which side are we on? We're on the side of the demons, Chief. We're evil men in the gardens of Paradise. Sent by the forces of death to spread devastation and destruction wherever we go. I'm surprised you didn't know that...I've sent men on suicide missions in two wars now, and let me tell you something. It don't make a Godsdamn bit of difference whether they're riding in a Viper or walking out onto a parade ground, in the end they're just as dead. So take your piety and your moralizing and your high-minded principles, and stick 'em someplace safe." -- Colonel Saul Tigh, Executive Officer, Galactica. Cylon, Terrorist, Murderer. Razor. Forgiven.
Helena breathes, takes up the PA, and tells a lie. "This is your Admiral. I know there have been a lot of rumors going around about the destruction that's been visited on our homeworlds by the Cylons. I would like to tell you that they're exaggerations, but in fact, they don't even come close to conveying the horror that's just been unleashed among us. The facts are that our Colonies have been destroyed, our cities have been nuked, and our Fleet's gone too. So far, there are no indications of any other survivors. I imagine you're all asking yourselves the same question I am: What do we do now? Do we run? Do we hide? I think those are the easy choices." And in their time, the Galactica will do both, again and again. And any time they make the easy choice, they are punished, horribly.