Look at me and tell me who I am, why I am, what I am...

The weapon was aimed at him.

Sharon had her weapon aimed at Commander Adama, then handed it to him, telling him how she made her own choices. This was, of course, after he had a look of death in his eyes upon seeing her.

The weapon was aimed at the Centurians.

Sharon fired and saved the group, hands still bound, even after Lee Adama had held a weapon of his own against her, claiming she had shot his father.

The weapon was aimed at her.

Sharon had tried to fit into the Fleet as best as possible, but she knew Cally would never accept her. She simply did not know that the woman could possibly sink so low as to planting a bomb within her Raptor.

There had been relief, visibly clear on Sharon's face when the elder Adama had accepted her. Trust, naturally, had come later, but there was a measure of acceptance there on the planet that she always remembered. There had been vindication, of course, when his hot-headed son had looked at Sharon in shock -- disbelieving that a Cylon would actually assist humanity to locate the Tomb of Athena.

She hated herself, though, that the feel of revenge against an unimportant worker felt so good. The look of panic on Cally's face as she thought that Sharon might actually shoot her… the failed attempt to shoot Sharon once the weapon had been handed to the other woman… the timbre of her own voice lowering in pitch as Sharon whispered her own warning before walking away, leaving Cally frightened? Sweet.

Sharon had known them all, used them all as her own weapons to further herself into their world and be accepted. She wondered, though, why it always ended up taking the form of her own sidearm to achieve it.

Muse : Sharon "Athena" Agathon
Fandom : Misc. TV/"Battlestar Galactica"
Word Count : 302