To yield is to be preserved whole.
To be bent is to become straight.
To be empty is to be full.
To have worn out is to be renewed.
To have little is to possess.

- Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching (trans. Wing-Tsit Chan)


the fracture was inevitable, the flame that quickens chaos to new upheavals, the formless and the voiceless from which the oneness can be born and yet

and yet Leoben mourns his brothers, choked by bitter truth and fear (only lies are beautiful that is why they are lies, the truth the colour of light and its infinite trajectory is not beauty-apt), he mourns them with all of his heart and he prays for their immortal souls above the sounding of war drums as he turns the heavy raider so that their pursuing basestar is within the reticle of his guns

The control panel responded weakly beneath their palms and Eight felt hope surge, like a calm blue wave. Her eyes shone as she looked up.

'No contact. They jumped.'

Natalie spoke in a cold, brittle voice, every word a drawn arrow hunting for a target: 'They have no centurions and no resurrection ship. Their only tactical advantage is their working FTL: of course they jumped. But they'll be back.'

six times he died on new caprica (he never assented to either name or project although for his sisters' sake he gave it his blessing, paradise cannot be erected on the ruins of the old ways)

six times he laid down to receive her delible marks, the wounds that notch tallies in his suit of murky sand before water flows over it and removes all traces, erasing doubts and false knowledge; he is purified and she is both the water and the blade, his salvation as he is hers, the subtle power that imparts the strength to endure and the spirit that brings what's hidden to light

On the crippled basestar, Natalie screamed after him:

'She'll kill you!'

Fragile, alone. The silent and elusive depths slipped by, streams of dust and ice clearing. The way was opened and he saw corridors of stars.

'No. She won't.'


4 May 2008