Episode Report Card Jacob Clifton: A | 1 USERS: A+ YOU GRADE IT That Old Song They Used To Play
By Jacob Clifton | Season 3 | Episode 19 | Aired on 03.17.2007
On Colonial One Tory meets with Cassidy, the one-sandaled prosecutor. Tory's intense, and not looking quite as lovely as she did last week; there's a hardness, a roughness we're not used to. She and Maya were the prettiest under-40s on New Caprica: what is going on here? "Baltar was instrumental in the Cylon attack on the Colonies," Tory Foster harshes out. "The President wants him charged with genocide." Cassidy knows damn well she can't make that stick. There's no evidence at all. Tory shakes her head: "The President saw him with one of the Sixes on Caprica. Before the attacks." So, Cassidy sums up, Tory wants her to put Laura on the stand "to testify about her drug-induced visions." Do not talk that shit to Tory Foster, girl! You'll get airlocked! Tory's two modes are Normal, and Laura/Tory Lockdown. They had to be. For a year and a half, they had to be. "What we want is for you to do your job, and convict him." It gets worse. That's already worse than it should be: it gets worse. "If you can't do that, we'll find someone who will." Tory's lost. If you can't decide who you're going to be, if you can't keep the law safe from your own fear and love and anger, then you're controlled by something darker. That's what we're looking at here: can you love the law enough, can you love the Fleet enough, to stay the person you agreed to be? Even Laura can't be around for this; even Laura's terrifying will won't crack at the places Tory's cracking. Again. "This is a courtesy meeting, not a strategy session. I am charging Baltar with what I can prove." Tory looks down at her, all angles and planes. "Of course," Cassidy says, realizing this is a standoff, "I do serve at the pleasure of the President. And if she decides to replace me, I'm sure there are other lawyers willing to take up the case." She leaves, and out the door implies the finger: "If there are any other lawyers." Let's ask Captain Kelly!
A woman comes to Baltar's cell, small and intense; when he sees her press pass he begs her to leave. She's bashful and amazed, in his presence. "Dr. Baltar, I-- I want you to look at this picture. This is my son. He's sick, and I want you to bless him." Gaius's eyes pop out of his head: even for him, this is a bit too much. He calls for the guards, promising her he's no God: "The God, or God of any derivation thereof... " I wouldn't be too sure about that last one, Gaius. He apologizes as she continues to beg: "I don't have any special powers." Nor that. He begs for privacy: "I'm on trial! For my life?" She swears that she believes in him, and he's flattered, and as they rush her away he pretends to be offended, to be aghast, but he's not, really. Nobody has ever believed in him before -- at least, not when he didn't believe in himself even more strongly. He takes the photo; she swears that he can save him. "I'll do my best," he says, putting on a face for the Marines. Once he's alone with the photograph, our song begins to play.