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Maybe, I don't know, Caprica?
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Caprica? Oh, to be Caprican.
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The seat of politics, culture, art, science, learning.
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And what was Aerelon? Just a drab, ugly rock,
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condemned to be the food basket for the 12 worlds.
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And that's how we were treated, like servants, like laborers, like working class.
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You know, you would have fitted right in there, Chief.
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Lots of men who liked to work with their hands and grab a pint down at the pub
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and finish off the evening with a good old-fashioned fight.
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Oh, yes, I left Aerelon after my 18 birthday.
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I turned my back on my family, on my heritage, all of them.
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Of course, it doesn't matter. They're all dead now.