Untitled


Episode Report Card Jacob Clifton: A+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT What Kind Of Father

By Jacob Clifton | Season 4 | Episode 12 | Aired on 01.23.2009

Zarek's washing his hands in his cell, speaking to someone we can't see, but I'm sure is just the worst possible person to be talking to him: "Every revolution begins with one small act of courage. But I hope you know how serious this is. I hope you understand that this will have consequences -- deadly consequences -- for a lot of people." He steps out of the way, and it's Felix, sitting on a chair in the middle of the cell, steel leg stuck out awkwardly to the side as usual. "I've thought about the consequences. And I'm ready for them. We all are." How many is we? "Enough." The Marine at the door is in on it, obviously. "But once it starts, we'll get more support. People know something has to be done. The world is frakked, it's upside-down, and somebody's gotta turn it right-side up."

("That is not a system that deserves to be defended. It deserves to be taken apart and put back together again." He sings it for her.)

"Are you that man?" Zarek nods: "I am one of them. But I need a partner." Gaeta takes his measure, and hauls himself to standing: "You've got one," he says, and they shake. Two broken men, an idealist and someone headed out into the dark places. One who never looked for power and one who never admitted he was looking all along. One man with something eating him, from the inside out, that must be expressed on the flesh of the body politic; the other waiting to pick up the pieces. One missing a leg, replaced with steel that itches and burns: bearing the marks on the Fleet's soul across his flesh. Both of them still trying to fix themselves, and the world, the best way they can think to do it: naked and broken. Their war is the best they can hope for. One last revolution.

Hitei Kan jumps back into the Fleet; Saul calls it up to Bill, in bed, and he smiles. "That's good. Take it from here, Saul. See you in the morning." Laura's arm comes around, and hangs up the phone softly. "They found the tylium ship." Laura smiles, in his arms; she's got the wig off, bearing the scars of a whole nation on her body. Surrendering to it. "Do you care?" he asks, and she nuzzles him, chuckling in the negative. They giggle; he holds her tighter. "Neither do I." They are surprised, they are relieved, it is beautiful and it is a gift. In all the ships of the Fleet nobody has this tonight. Sometimes you're allowed to lay those burdens down. He kisses her shoulder goodnight.

They are naked. They are broken. They keep going.

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