My dear Gale,

Today I have given away his favourite toy. I think I put it to good use. I think I will get it back. I pray you will forgive me for lending it. Perhaps it will help to guide a man who thinks himself lost back to the harbour of his soul. If not, I will have failed him as much as I will have failed the fleet. But please understand: I need to take this risk.
The longer I stay on board, the more pain and suffering I see, the more I am determined to not loose hope. These people here are fighting so very hard for their lives as well as those of others that the only reaction I know to this is hope. If there ever was hope for humanity, then this must be it.
They harm one another. There are reports that another woman went missing, this happening after last night two skinjob Cylons and a marine were blown up right then and there in the brigg. There are murderers on board and it is a terrible thought to be living among them.
Murder, however, is not a new concept. And while some think that the machines we created need to be undone, I am left to wonder why we are so surprised that machines we trained to do the things we do better than ourselves end up being the better murderers as well. And then – who is to blame for that, really? Perhaps we have made them to be that way. But if they have a personality, they might have a soul. And if they have that, then surely, they, too, deserve the benefit of the doubt we would usually grant our peers.
On the other hand, there are people walking through my office doors, full of self-doubt. Wondering where to go, what to think, what is right, begging for guidance they fail to find within themselves. Good people. People who have gone through so much and still carry on, even though their loved ones are gone, some even more recently lost. They go on.
For as long as that door keeps opening, I still have faith in them and I will do my best to give them one small save haven and perhaps a smile to go. Daring to hope.
I know you would do the same.

– Caden –