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As befits the twins, this Starbuck episode mirrors last week's Apollo focus in a lot of ways, except for how it is good. Starbuck, between losing Cain and the presumed death of Anders, gets dangerously self-destructive in the usual ways: binge drinking, random violence, third-grade emotional politics. Her adversaries, beyond her usual personal fracked-uppery: Kat, and the Red Baron of the Cylon fleet, a Raider, name of Scar. Kat is the normal amount of annoying, plus a little extra due to her use as a bigger plot tool than Tigh could ever hope to be, like a Dial-H-For-Hater machine set to push Kara's fifty thousand buttons one at a time. During a heartbreaking scene with Boomer, Kara learns that the Raiders resurrect just like the humlons, meaning that she and Scar hate each other the same amount. As Kat calls Starbuck again and again on her continued downward spiral, she responds by distancing herself ever more horribly from the human cost of the war, eventually pretending that she can't even name the pilots who've died under her leadership. In the fourth episode running, a painful series of flashbacks and forwards forces her to grow up slightly and give Kat the Scar kill rather than dying stupidly. Kat becomes the new Viper hotshot in a fairly emotional scene in which Lee, Helo, Tigh and Adama watch Starbuck cycle through the names of the dead. To the theme from The Deer Hunter, Kara opens up to Helo about her struggles, due to the big wall with spikes on it between herself and usual confidant Apollo. Whence? Kara's blowing up all crazy after a failed (but awesome) assignation with Lee, in which she is so hateful and aggressive that he pees himself a little. There are hands in pants, is what I'm saying, and the hands, they are angry. And yeah, it's unhealthy, but it's hot. week: another episode, another round of Smack Boomer, as Dana Delany (WOO!) holds Apollo, Dualla, and others hostage after learning about Adama's pet toaster. High hopes. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
You know, I liked this one okay, when I saw it. I loved that it was not the episode a lot. It's still got that "divorced from all ongoing storylines" issue, which I think bugs me most because the whole reason I can handle "Epiphanies" is that it front-loaded what I assume are all the plot threads for the second half of the season...and the show promptly ignored all of them for two weeks. However, I forgot to point out last week that this episode, until recently, has been listed later in the episode order, like 18 or 19, and got bumped forward. I have a Sincere Hope and a Hopeful Theory about this. The Hopeful Theory is that "Black Market" also got bumped forward, which is why it did the same thing -- and sucked hard -- and that in both cases, the plot itself was too big to really go in and remodel and add the necessary texture to make it fit the ongoing story without cutting the A-story too short (although at least this week, the story doesn't rely on its own made-up backstory to make its point). The Sincere Hope is that the reason this was done, in one or both cases, is to give the production team the necessary time to make week's episode entirely kick-ass, because from the non-spoiler stuff that I do know, it's going to be a freakout hellride starting with Episode 18, and that's exciting, and how nice would it be if week got that party started early?
But so in the few days since this episode aired, I have been reading this week's very insightful TWoP forums and listening to the irritating podcast (and cursing Entertainment Weekly, by the way -- don't read the blue info box in the front pages, if you can help it, because it includes two things everybody knows and an effing huge thing I didn't, and I've already had to wank about sixteen different ways that the particular plot point described therein might still be "vague," and fuck them anyway because it's about Season 3, for Pete's sake). And I have grown to realize that I kind of love this episode. So when I did the massive final viewing, where I actually type my notes, I found myself really touched by it in ways that I was not expecting. I assume part of this was "Black Market" hangover, and part of this was the fact that, as Strega pointed out to me, nothing could have been particularly satisfying after the Pegasus extravaganza, but now that I've watched it a hundred times, I think I definitely like it. At least as much as "Final Cut," or "The Farm" or "Litmus" or any of the other usual suspects. And I'm back to liking Lee as much as I ever did, Starbuck more so, and feeling mostly sorry for Kat at this point. Which is a bunch of surprising things to admit.
Let's start, already. So, remember when Starbuck made a map of the cell from "Resistance," and she showed it to Roslin and Adama while in her CAG dress uniform? And she got really shirty with them, and outlined all the reasons they needed to go back? And Laura was like, "To reiterate, I respect what you're trying to do, but see," and Kara yelled about their "duty" to the survivors, and Adama tried to placate her, but she threw a snit-fit and finally Adama was like, "Kara!" in that scary Teacher Voice? You don't? That's because it didn't happen. It was a scene cut from "Pegasus" that illustrated Starbuck's emotional move toward Cain and away from Adama, not to mention giving her another chance to get shut down by Roslin on the whole concept, which the President's been against from actual, literal day one. So cut and deleted scenes are not canon, unless they appear in the previouslies. Got it. Also in the previouslies: Chief. Hi, Chief! We love you! See you when we get back to our show one of these days!
We open on the end of the last month of operations for the mining ship Majahual, which is apparently Mayan for "No water for the witch"? I don't know if that's necessarily true, or necessarily pointy beyond being diverse, because I don't speak Mayan. I can write it, but not speak it. Jaguar Head, Eagle Over The Shoulder, Big Tree, Jaguar Head, Jaguar Head, Fist, Guy With Feathers, Jaguar Head. That means, for example, "Not even Boomer can understand how she's having Gaius and Six's baby -- and she's a friggin' robot." On that note: Daru Mozu is not from science fiction, but from Latvia, and I think involves Moses, which is interesting because DEMAND PEACE is kind of...there's a "Let My People Go" thing happening, I guess. And also, "Zarek" is a Polish name which I'm told is a variant of "Belshazzar," who was the son of Nebuchadnezzar, who dreamed dreams and is referenced directly in The Matrix, and was the last king of Babylon, and who refused to read the proverbial "writing on the wall." And finally, Laura Roslin is the President, which means you stand up when she does whether or not she is a "frail neurasthenic with no independent will," but in an episode like last week's, you assume the mistakes accrete. And they do, but sometimes they're mine.
Kat and Starbuck are on patrol, guarding the Majahual, and Starbuck tells her wingman that they're entering the sector where "BB and Jo Jo bought it." We haven't heard of those two nuggets previously. Kat looks all around the asteroid field, and yells, "Come on out, Scar, you ugly Cylon son of a bitch. Let's party!" Starbuck makes a whole pun outpost about how Scar doesn't "R.S.V.P." and "prefers surprise parties." Kat: "He'll be surprised when I blow his ass apart." Good line. Starbuck ribs her good-naturedly, and Kat drifts a bit, mentally: "Kassie. Kassie, wasn't that her name?" Starbuck doesn't know what she's talking about. Very pretty Solaris light shines through Kat's windscreen, and she explains that she's talking about "Reilly's girlfriend." Starbuck yells at her to give it a rest because she's already explained that she has "no frackin' idea" about the girlfriend, and the light spreads, taking up the whole screen.
Flashback to Galactica, the pilots' quarters. It's ninety-four hours ago. Reilly has died and they are clearing out the stuff from his bunk: weird figurines, religious stuff, gear, a copy of NYMPH magazine which is identical to our Maxim, but I'm assuming is from before the world ended. Which is somehow really, really sad to think about, lad magazines from seven months ago being your only girlfriend. Not in a sex way, but just...I think it would bum me out to be reading about Julia Roberts's big project or a Bluetooth device I couldn't buy, or be looking at a photo spread of Eliza Dushku and think, "She'll never be naked again, because she was blown up by nuclear bombs."
Starbuck is, at this sensitive time, giving a "Don't Be A Pussy" speech: "Reilly's dead for one very simple reason. He couldn't control his fear." Kat is in Phase One, where she's trying to be supportive of her hero: "Yup, poor idiot cut and ran. Gave the toaster a free shot up his ass." Kat and Starbuck agree that he got spooked by Scar, and just panicked. Hotdog is sad. Starbuck calls Reilly "a good stick," if a little "short on guts." Duck -- who I either really love or really hate in any given scene; mostly the former this week but not here -- is like, "As opposed to Beano, who had plenty. Took Cally an hour to clean out his cockpit." Gross me out, Duck. Way to distance yourself. Starbuck should take notes on this. Kat wonders aloud about the dead guy's girlfriend's name, and Starbuck instantly says she doesn't remember. Duck offers "Karen," and says she died on Picon, and Hotdog thinks it's closer to "Kathy," and Starbuck is having none of this: "You guys, what does it matter? Gonna hold a little prayer circle? Good cry? The whole thing?" Kat's grossed out even though she must've seen Starbuck do this a hundred times, this "who cares, I didn't want ice cream anyway" approach to life, and says, "Actually, it does matter." Starbuck cuts her eyes at somebody, like, "What. Ever." It's interesting for several reasons. First of all, I think there's a difference between the dead pilot and his dead girlfriend, namely that he died in battle, just now, while the unnamed girlfriend died on Picon, at the end of the world. Forgetting Reilly is different from forgetting the UGF, because the former makes you a better, harder pilot, but the latter allows you to function. Secondly: Kat wasn't military, doesn't come pre-loaded with the whole "Morituri" thing. She got picked to train after a bunch of pilots died, and she is actually bad-ass now, but on these specific terms, she has more in common with UGF than either do with Kara, who's not very interested in civilians normally unless they are sports stars. Lastly: What are some other commonalities we can name between women named Kara, "Kat" Katraine, and "Kathy," "Kathryn," "Kassie" or "Karen"? Yeah. Hurts, don't it.
Two nuggets enter, having just completed Viper training on Pegasus under...somebody. Ensign Brent "BB" Baxton has dark hair and kind eyes. Ensign Joseph "Jo Jo" Clark has a blond jarhead and a very expressive mouth. They are very friendly and very doomed. BB mentions being "ready to kick some Cylon butt," and Starbuck -- inspiring indeed -- mutters that Beano was too. Hotdog peels the "Beano" label off the bunk and pats it onto Jo Jo's shirt. Creepy. Jo Jo stands up fast and then asks many questions about Scar and dying that allow us to get quickly filled in: Scar is the "toasters' top gun," the "deadliest Raider in the Cylon fleet," not just a special machine but "the best they got," with a "taste for nuggets." So basically he's the Red Baron. I don't have an issue with this mythology coming out of nowhere, because it didn't -- I buy that we haven't heard about it, before now, and that Scar grew to mythic status very, very quickly. You live fast, your days stretch out. It's like freshman year of college. Kat also reminds us that Captain Thrace "cut the brain out of one," which gives fuel to the theory that we've met this particular Raider before, which we'll talk about later. Having freaked the nuggets, everybody takes off to be cooler somewhere else, and Jo Jo and BB stare at each other. (And thanks also to forum poster GarySeven, who proved among other things very helpful in that he's seen a bunch of movies I have never heard of, and pointed out the reference to the John Wayne movie The Searchers, about a screwed-up Confederate soldier who obsessed on getting this Indian chief who killed his family, and the Moby Dick in question was named? Scar, yep, and the title, it referred to? "People searching for a sense of place that they had lost." So there's that.)
Back to the present, where Kat and Starbuck are eyeballing the asteroid field around the Mahajual, and what they're flying is called a Combat Air Patrol, which is a set or sets of two Vipers sometimes accompanied by a Raptor, but not in this case. Kat eyeballs a "big spud, lower rim," which Starbuck doesn't see. "There was a time you'd have noticed it before me," says Kat, and they rib each other, Kat's all, "Try to keep up!" and Starbuck's like, "Yeah, just don't screw up." It's interesting, because the Kat/Kara threat matrix basically works itself out in the time leading up to this, so on the first run-through, it seemed jarring and weird and uneven, but now I get it. Kara starts to fugue out, and there's a reflection on her helmet of what she's about to remember, which is always cool.
In the Galactica Pilots' Lounge is something about to be horrible and painful. It's been six hours since they cleared Reilly's bunk, and BB's obsessing on Scar some more and asking Kat questions. Kat starts trying to describe Scar's M.O., but a drunken Starbuck at the table behind them takes over immediately. "-- He hides behind an asteroid. Or the debris field that you've ignored because it looked like a bunch of harmless rocks. You see, Scar doesn't like to fight until the odds are on his side. And then, suddenly out of nowhere..." Starbuck's drinking from a big stein, the silly kind with the teapot top, that has a skull and crossbones and "Galactica Top Gun" on it, and "BAM," she says, bugging Kat. "He pops out, blows you to pieces." Kat looks at BB and joins the story, her mouth a thin line. "...And then jumps away before you can return fire." She's still trying to be this kick-ass double act with Kara, trading lines and being co-bad-asses. "Well," says BB, "if you ask me, I think Scar's a coward."
Helo and Kara smile, and she gets intense: "This isn't dueling pistols at dawn; this is war. You never wanna fight fair. You wanna sneak up behind your enemy, and club 'em over the head." Hotdog watches the conversation, paging through Beano's NYMPH. "You see, Scar understands that. And so do I. So, that's why I'm gonna kill him." Kara keeps saying "You see," which seems archaic for her, and she says it like a billion times in this episode, and I've not noticed that before. Kat laughs, but not unkindly -- like they're equals: "You? Starbuck, you can barely walk." The "honey, no" is silent. Duck grins because he's mean. And yes, even Starbuck generally reserves that kind of shit for private conversation, but it's Starbuck who actually takes first blood here: "Look who's talking, stim junkie." All the pilots hoot and holler; Hotdog gets worried. "You know," says Kat, all barbs now, humming almost into the back of Kara's neck, "I wouldn't be calling anyone a junkie if I were you, Starbuck. Not the way you've been pounding back that booze lately. One Tigh on the ship's enough." Kara gets pissed, and even Duck gets scared. Kat slams some cash on the table. "I got 200 here says I nail Scar's chrome-plated ass. And when I do? You hand that Top Gun over to me, and pour me my first drink." Kara gets in her face. "Your lips'll never touch the rim, little girl." I realize it's passé to marvel at the gender stuff, but this scene and episode really benefit from the Flip The Genders game. "We'll see," says Kat, and leaves. All the pilots cheer Starbuck and a little bit of Kat.
Starbuck, way drunk, tries to get up, and stumbles around to the pilots' cheers. Apollo comes forward, friendly and worried, and advises that she might want to "slow down." She grins: "Maybe. Maybe not." She drains the stein, slams it down, and runs across the lounge, yelling, "Comin' in hot! Checkers green. Speed 250!" She jumps onto a table, which immediately upends, and she hits the wall and falls down in a mess. Lee squeezes his eyes shut. Kara laughs, everybody laughs, and she slowly retreats, the laughing fades off to a sad smile, and she starts to remember some stuff she's been trying to forget, namely Anders. She is having a full-on Rayanne Graff moment, one of the most painful things to watch drunk people do, on-screen or off-. She starts to get sadder, as the pilots continue laughing, and we close in on her face, sad and blank. A thrown bottle in the lounge becomes the arc of a Pyramid ball on Caprica; a pilot taking a belly-button body shot becomes Anders, kissing her stomach tenderly. Kara begins to weep, still piled in the corner, forgotten, squalid, drunk.
Flash to Kara's mask, whence the memories, as she and Kat chase the Raiders around. Kat's still convinced that she's located Scar: "Found your hiding place, you little fracker." Starbuck's not convinced, but Kat goes chasing off: "Kiss your 200 goodbye!" We see another reflection, off a face, but this time it's Scar, hiding on an asteroid, red light sweeping, as he watches them take off. He pulls off the asteroid, and follows behind them.
Credits. 49,593 souls in the Fleet. Including Kat, who's making more sense than I previously thought.
Back to Starbuck's mask, Kat over the radio: "This guy's mine." Starbuck knows better, knows something is wrong, because Scar would have jumped by now, or wheeled around to shoot them. She starts looking out her cockpit for him, in every direction, but can't find him: "I'll check our tails." She flips, and the sun is in her eyes. She holds up a thumb, to see him -- and Scar comes flying out of the brightness, firing on her. "Frack! Frack," she yells, "I'm hit! I'm hit, I'm hit, I'm hit!"
Briefing Room. It's been seven hours since Kara took a header in the lounge. Kat's showing Beano's cockpit video on a loop as an educational tool. From this scene, I gather that Kat has Starbuck's old training job, and from what I can tell, she's best qualified, not the least because she's still alive. "See, Beano opened fire too early. You guys, you gotta fill the windscreen with the sucker or you're not gonna hit him. See, look. He's still not close enough. Beano's already dead, he just doesn't know it yet. Do any of you guys see where he went wrong?" She stops the video and the squad stares. "There, you see that glint? There." She rolls it forward, and the spot becomes a Raider. "If Beano hadn't fixated on his target, he'd have seen that." BB asks if it was Scar, because that's all he and Jo Jo can think about, because this episode is about Scar and they are both going to die, and we already know that. Duck looks at him like he's a total nugget. She finds another shot of Scar and points to him in close-up. "There he is, boys and girls. There's the motherfracker I'm gonna kill." Cally is like a total wordsmith or something, like the unholy child of Mark Twain and Jack Ruby, because it seemed like she made up that term a while back and it is used in every scene of this episode. And whatever, I'm not going to tell you how that term makes less sense as a put-down on Galactica than here on Earth, because apparently I'm some kind of Valerie Solanas crazy person for having a problem with the concept that if women's bodies are not dirty, prostitution still should be, somehow.
Roslin's in the CIC, and we learn for the second time in two weeks that Cylon blood makes you shoot out exposition like a semi-automatic and do nothing else otherwise: "I'm afraid this is one of those good news/bad news conversations." Adama -- and not Tigh, funnily enough -- gruffles, "Bad news first." Tigh does stare, though, so that's something. Tigh wants bad news only. Basically, the reason they've been in this particular vicinity for a month is because the asteroids are rich in an ore that is very useful for making Vipers, which are needed, and they can't leave until they're done mining, because there's enough available for two entire squads. But the Majahual has broken a drill bit, and Roslin wants them to stay another eight days. Tigh's unimpressed ("Son of a bitch!"), and throws down a folder, but Adama just looks at him a second. The good news is that the Pegasus production team has just turned out its first combat-ready Viper, though, and that makes Tigh happy. Well, "happy." Roslin: "We are beginning to replace our losses!" Tigh can't sit still for anything approaching jubilance, though, and needlessly pisses on the Presidential parade: "Are they going to be able to replace pilots as well?" It's her turn to just kind of look at him for a second.
There's an editing thing in this brilliantly-edited episode where the dialogue from the upcoming scene plays across the visual of the end of a scene, but it's only minorly symbolic here -- it's more about pacing. So we hear, and then see Starbuck in the briefing room: "Let's review the tactical situation." The squad all sits, at various levels of attention, watching her exposit what Roslin just did, with some tactical data of interest: "...The old man has sent the Fleet out of harm's way under the protection of Pegasus. Our job is to stay behind and protect the miners. Unfortunately, this star system is full of rocks and dust. Dradis cannot tell the rocks from the bad guys, so our only reliable system of detection is..." And Kat's gonna "help out" some more: "...Our eyeballs." She addresses the group over her own shoulder in this scene. Starbuck continues: "Which means we have to put those eyeballs way out there. Split up, cover a huge perimeter. We'll be patrolling the area in divisions of four at these picket points." Kat, rolling her eyes and disappointed at this basic fuck-uppery, corrects Starbuck in an exasperated tone that at first sounds like she's actually re-defining the mission. "Twos, we're going in sections of twos." Her line reading is excellent here, because it gives Starbuck the opportunity to balk ("Are you planning the ops for me now, too?") before she shows her the brief that backs it up. The camera is really, really interested in Duck in this episode, and right now he is: bored at the pissing contest. "CAG wants us to spread out to control a larger area. It's right here in the briefings." Her hero worship is shattering before her very eyes, and it's disgusting to her, because that is what happens. She hands off the brief to Kara, who is pretty cool about it, because she's cocky and shit, but I honestly think she's all about what's right for the mission or the Fleet. Even when she's calling out Tigh or Kat, it's more about not fucking up than it is about her own awesomeness. And so it is with Kat too, here, now. "All right," Starbuck says, irritated but not angry, "so we do go in twos." Duck's not terribly impressed either. "Scar and his buddies are out there. Looking for easy kills. Let's not give him any."
Back to CIC, where Roslin's first line bleeds ahead: "This operation is vital," she says, "to the long-term survival of this fleet." Adama agrees, and of course Tigh complains that "they're grinding us down, Viper by Viper," and I don't understand why he even talks when he's in a mood like this, because it's always both obvious and depressing. Roslin wonders why the Raiders have stopped attacking en masse but, because she has this Exposition Infection, can only wonder aloud about whether it has to do with the destruction of the Resurrection Ship, which it obviously did. Just in case, though, Kara is going to ask Boomer about that. I guess on the off chance that Boomer will say, "No, actually, it's the Eve of St. Vigeous and they're about to come back with five times the firepower and a new Ernestine, like tomorrow. Good thing you asked!"
In Boomer's cell, with, like, six Marines pointing guns at Boomer, I cannot read Starbuck at all. She's weird about Cylons, particularly this Cylon, because it gives her a weather ache in the place where her ovaries used to be, but I'm not convinced that she's that simple, because when is she ever? "This guy's probably died and been reborn a dozen times," Boomer explains. "You may have faced him before." Starbuck acknowledges the underlying fact of this -- that Raiders reincarnate -- and then accidentally kicks the elephant in the room that Sharon's trying so hard to ignore: "Just like you?" It's somewhat painful for Sharon, who's like, "Oy with the robot thing already," but bites her lip: "Yeah, just like me." Starbuck's not happy about this info. Sharon explains again about how Raiders are: "Much like a trained animal, with basic consciousness and survival instinct. But with the destruction of the Resurrection Ship, when they die, they're really dead. So, they're not gonna mount mass attacks where they could have major casualties." Starbuck's still stuck on how Raiders reincarnate. Sharon starts the line with a huge no-no, but gets interesting fast: "Makes sense [audience], doesn't it? It takes months for you to train a nugget into an effective Viper pilot. And then they get killed. And their experience, their knowledge, their skill sets. Gone forever. [This is why all companies now have wikis and constant lateral movement.] So, if you could bring them back and put them in a brand-new body, wouldn't you do it?" Interesting. "Death then becomes a learning experience." Creepy. This, though, and the fact that Kat specifically referenced this earlier, made a lot of viewers wonder about whether Scar is actually the Raider Kara scooped out and flew home, which was later stolen by Sharon, but that seems inordinate to me. Off her last comment, Sharon gets human for a sec: "How many pilots have we lost?" She catches herself, rolls her eyes sadly. "I mean, have you lost?" Oy with the pronouns.
Starbuck shakes her head and changes the subject: "You know, there are times when I look at you and I forget what you are." Sharon swallows sadly. "All I see is that kid that spooged her landings day after day. The kid that was frackin' the Chief and thinking she was getting away with it." Sharon looks down, crying, and I think Kara is ambivalent to this, but like I said, I can't read her in this scene at all so I don't know the percentage. Sharon smiles sadly, still crying: "Yeah, I remember." She leans forward to touch Kara's knee: "You were like a big sister to me..." but is cut off when the Marines cock and aim at her. Starbuck lets a bit of her anxiety about this situation show for a second, and she and Kara stare deeply into each other's eyes, but Kara makes the choice to cut it off again and stands up. She looks down at Sharon, like, "So, well..." and starts to leave; Sharon calls her "Kara," and asks her to be careful of Scar: "He's filled with rage. Dying's a painful and traumatic experience. Every time he's reborn, he's filled with more bitter memories. Scar hates you every bit as much as you hate him." Speaking as a Cylon, I presume, meaning "you" in the human sense, because she just a second ago self-corrected that particular thing, and not as a crewman, meaning Kara in the person sense. Unless he's actually that same beast again. Starbuck clenches her jaw and nods goodbye, and not in a terribly mean way, just in a way where she remembers how scary and conflicting the Leoben thing got, and is unwilling to get tied up like that again. Still -- she's gotta deliver the Cybrid, right? So they'll be having another conversation week? I'm going to feel like a dink when that doesn't happen at all in any way, and it's like, fucking Baltar because, you know, he's a doctor and it's his baby (Crazy Six Math!) but until then, I'm going with my gut.
In the firing range, the nuggets are training on the large gyroscope thing that you only see at sad college campus presentations and gross roadside carnivals. You spin around in the thing blindfolded, get dizzy, then fire a weapon at a target. Sounds like good safe fun to me. "A Raider is a squirmy son of a bitch," Starbuck trainifies. "You won't be able to keep him in your sights for more than two seconds, so you have to deliver a killing burst within that time or he will turn and nail you. All that yanking and banking gives you one hell of a case of vertigo -- and that is what this chair simulates."
Jo Jo is removed from the device and looks pretty bad as he's being unblinded. He fires a few bad shots and everybody screams and hits the deck, and it's funny but not, like, sitcom funny. They see that he clipped the target, and Starbuck gives him a thumbs up for even doing that. Duck notes that, his first time, he took out a wall clock, causing Jo Jo to ask, "So what's the all-time record?" Kat doesn't even want to hear it, but dumb old Hotdog immediately speaks up: "Four hits on the X ring." (That's the center target where they used to have Sharon's face back when I thought I knew what constituted the abuse of civil liberties.) This blows Jo Jo's mind, of course it is Starbuck that set this record, and of course she's not incredibly proud because she knows damn well that she's super-awesome, and of course Kat would like to "give a shot, for old times' sake?" They smile at each other and Starbuck graciously gives leave, then drops the act. They still respect each other, though, which is, like, this quiet thing under the surface for most of this episode. It's almost acknowledged, this challenge/response, which I didn't get at all the first time around, because I'm so used to being annoyed by Kat, who is annoying. I love how accepted the myth of Starbuck is here, though -- it's a nice counterpoint to the Scar deal, like, nobody even blinks when yet another Paul Bunyan story about her turns out to be true.
Kat spins and all that, and puts five through the X ring, and Kat cheers herself. Everybody else cheers, Starbuck looks at her, and this scene is more about Kat than about Starbuck, because it's less about Kat hating on Starbuck and being a drag and more about Kat getting verifiable proof that she's a bad-ass and as she sees her hero go down, she herself is going up, and you can barely blame her for being taken in by that. You can blame her for many things, rampant assholism among them, but not this, because it's life telling her: you're the one now. Why love Starbuck when you can be the new Starbuck? Why care about keeping the legend alive when the feet are not only clay, but melting before your very focused eyes? It's kind of heartbreaking, especially since we've known her from the beginning of her career, and been subject to the same blatant pro-Starbuck propaganda Kat has, and (some of us, anyway) have been fooled by it, and are proud of that fact, because it's mostly true. It makes me wonder what Starbuck's relationship with Tigh was like, before she and he and everybody else realized what a sad little whipped old dog he is. I wonder if Kara loved him like this.
Back to now, where Scar is chasing Starbuck through the asteroid field, and she's yelling because he's scored on her. Kat can't find her at first, but it's hard to know what's going on because the editing is weird: normally, we get radio in one cockpit from the speaking of the other, but because we stay in both speakers' cockpits while they're speaking for much of this scene, you might think their radios are fracked or dead. They're not, but it's a weird edit. Kat can't get visual at all, and is getting very freaked out, but Starbuck's all of a sudden competitive: "Forget it, Kat. Scar's mine." This will make sense by the end, this rapid turn. Kat: "Don't be an idiot, Starbuck! What's your position?" But Starbuck's speaking creepily to Scar: "Yeah, you remember me, don't you? You want my ass so bad, you can taste it. Well, keep coming. 'Cause I guaran-frackin'-tee you, I will put you down this time for good." She drops, sudden as tmesis, into the grooves and valleys of the asteroid, and he follows.
It's a day and a half since Kat broke the record (forty-two hours until now, and if I never have to swallow this kind of thing again I'll die happy, but at least there's a point this time, instead of just making us think something interesting might at some point happen, like last week), and Kara is bench-pressing in the gymnasium, spotted by Helo. They haven't talked in a really long time, and I always like it when they do. They're war buddies, instead of whatever-the-hell Kara and Lee are in addition to being war buddies, and honestly, the girl needs friends. After having to help her with the last rep, Helo asks point-blank why she's pushing so hard, and she just stares up at him, stands, and walks off. Helo: "Kat's just another hot-shot kid out to make her bones. Like you were before you met Anders." We flashback to Anders for a sec. "You ever think about him?" "Constantly," Kara thinks. "What's the point?" she says. "He's dead." She takes a seat on the leg press but starts lifting dumbbells, flashing back some more. At least it's to a real fake relationship and not a fake fake one. "Kara. If you didn't think he had a chance of surviving, why'd you promise to return with a rescue party?" She starts to say something, but bites her tongue, and I don't know what it was she was going to say. "I thought I was...I don't know what I thought."
As she continues lifting, Kara remembers putting her dog-tag in Anders's hand, and yes, a lot of this requires you to believe that she developed these intense feelings about him, I guess, but there are factors: he's the Caprican Michael Jordan. Wartime stress speeds things up. He's the male version of Kara. And those are just "I guess I can see that" things about the relationship. But also, maybe the reason we haven't heard about it since she left (and I watched that scene not too long ago, and she sells the shit out of it) is because there's other stuff going on -- stuff like: he represents not only home, Caprica, but also everything that was lost, à la Reilly's dead girlfriend on Picon, and everything normal that Kara might have won from life if the world hadn't ended, and that she could pretend with him that things were normal, and that's why it was hard to leave, and most importantly, like her twin, I think the best, greatest thing about Anders is that he's not around anymore. Why deal with your actual current feelings when you can take the over/under on him being dead? Which takes the whole conflict that started this story -- "Stay and fight" or "Run and rebuild" -- and makes it specifically a Starbuck (and also very Apollo) issue: "Sit in the middle of your survivor guilt and fear and depression and refuse to grow or change, even as you're flying away" or "Return as the conquering hero and grab hold of a decent life, dying in the process." Do I defer responsibility for my own life as I flee into the future and obsess on the past, or do I defer it my locating it in my history? It's a basic thing about adult survivors of abuse, which Kara is, and about any person who has lost family, which they all are. So there's that.
In the locker room, BB approaches Starbuck, obviously scared about his first CAP mission and fighting actual Raiders. "If Scar jumps us out there..." And Starbuck is in no mood: "Keep your eyes open so he can't." She pops yet more pain pills. "Okay, but. If I screw up and he bushwhacks me, what do I do then?" Starbuck's irritable and not having this conversation. "Come on! They drilled this into you over and over and over again at basic air combat." He tries to explain that, since she and the rest of them have gone out of their way to scare him shitless about Scar, Scar has become a separate issue. "Scar is no different than any other attacker," Kara peeves. "He comes at you, turn into him, get closer, pull the trigger." He repeats this and thanks her, and as he turns away, she underscores: "Don't run, or you'll die." There is fear in her eyes for him, like maybe she knows this entire scene is screaming its ass off about how it totally means that he's going to not run, when he should, and thus die. She dismisses BB rudely, and Kat grabs him, comforting him and giving him a pep talk about how Duck, his mission leader, is a great pilot, and that he should just focus on doing what he's told: "Just don't let the Raiders get anywhere near the miners." She gets his energy up and sends him off, then goes to bitch at Starbuck: "That kid needs more than a pat on the ass and a textbook quote about tactics, okay?" Starbuck makes a compartmentalized response that wet-nursing the nuggets is not doing them a favor: "I either fly him, or I ground him and then we go up short. What's it gonna be? Your call, Kat." Kat just shakes her head, angry and resigned, and we settle in for BB's death that we now would know was coming even if they hadn't told us that in the teaser.
Lots of cast regulars in various locations listen to the mission play out over wireless. This scene is good because it keeps coming back to Apollo, who has a vested interest right now in the terror of spaceflight, listening to what is clearly going to happen. Starbuck duallas that Duck's wing should come back in, and suddenly Duck spies four Raiders incoming on BB. He gives the location, and then makes the mistake of identifying one of them as Scar. Apollo is alone in the briefing room -- he's got a clipboard in this scene, which via the fact that he's grounded himself ups the futile impotence of him in this scene immensely. It's one of the best scenes in the episode, and it doesn't involve Starbuck, Kat, or anything happening, but it's so, so clear and sad and true. Apollo reaches for the wireless, and drops his hand; he's our emotional point man. BB begs for instructions, and Duck tells him to bug out, because they don't have enough fuel for a fight -- they were just about to come in, remember -- and BB replies with a "Negative! Starbuck said to turn into any attack. Weapons hot!" Apollo's now screaming into the radio, clipboard flapping uselessly. "You're bingo fuel! Don't attack, you idiot!" Duck yells that this is "the frackin' exception," but the fight is on, so he gets into it, asking all points for a hand. Apollo -- I can't describe how good he is in this scene, is still talking to the radio -- "You're on your own, Duck. Everybody's way out of range." Starbuck is six minutes out; Kat is eight. Apollo knew this in his head. BB spies Raiders on his tail (his "six") and then is exploded on the radio. Apollo is sad, but he knew it all along, because he was playing this out like mental chess. He needs to get his ass back in the air because apparently he's a better tactician than even Kara is, on these dogfights.
Back at the hangar, Jo Jo barfs and cries, and Kara's gone emotionally dead. Chief tries to comfort her: "Nothing you could do, Captain. You were too far away." She has a huge headache, and then also the headache that is Kat: "Nice work, Starbuck." Kat climbs the stairs to her cockpit and continues bitching. "He did exactly what you told him to do, Captain. Him and Duck had bingo fuel and a head start home, but instead the FNG [Fucking New Guy, as it turns out -- I guess Fracking New Guy, here, which is a nice combination of real-world and fictional world] turned and attacked. And Scar lit him up like a pinwheel." Starbuck gets very Tigh for a sec: "Why'd he try to take Scar on by himself? Stupid idiot." Kat reminds Starbuck of the hardcore foreshadowing that happened moments ago, where Starbuck told the kid over and over the specifically wrong thing, and Starbuck gets right up in Kat's face: "You know what? You and I both know that 99% of the time that is the right move." While this is valid, Kat is more about hurting Starbuck, because her heart is still breaking: "Not this time." She's only angry, now; no love or respect. Starbuck stares, kind of ruined.
GarySeven, again, notes that the following scene references Only Angels Have Wings, a fairly famous Hawks movie with Cary Grant where this young pilot dies, and a few minutes later all the older pilots can't seem to even remember who the kid was. That's harsh and very sad. Playing the role of Jean Arthur will be Apollo, who is getting drunk as hell with Starbuck all alone in the Pilots' Lounge. Apollo: "You know what gets me? I know that in two weeks, I won't remember his face. I can't remember any of their faces after they're killed. No matter how hard I try, they just fade." Starbuck will do him one better: "I don't even remember their names." Apollo lists them: "Flattop." Starbuck spits a mouthful of beer across the space between them, and grins, holding up one finger: "Who bought it on his thousandth landing." Apollo wipes his shirt and ignores the fact that this is not actually true. "There was Chuckles," Apollo says, and gets the spit again, now with two fingers. They laugh and he tells her to stop it, because it's not funny. "It is funny. You know, the President says that we're saving humanity for a bright, shiny future -- on Earth. That you and I are never gonna see." Kara Thrace needs a refresher on the concept of humor, I think. Lee looks at her, broken by this. "We're not. Because we go out, over and over again, until someday, some metal motherfracker is gonna catch us on a bad day and just blow us away." Lee drinks to that, because nihilism is totally what he's all about lately, and refills their glasses. "Bright, shiny futures are overrated anyway," he adds. The sadness becomes coughing. He looks away, and takes another drink. "That is why we gotta get what we can. Right now," Kara says, and he looks into her eyes, and doesn't break contact, and there is electricity. But he's Lee: he's going to bunt. Watch. They clink, and he holds her gaze again, and looks away. "I'll drink to that. To right now." Kara grins impishly, which is hard to do when you're horny without looking really creepy: "So, why don't we?" And yes, Apollo, there is a Santa Claus: "Why don't we...what?" Kara kisses him, and her hand on his chest drifts down. The camera focuses on their feet, where she is dragging him somewhere more private.
In the pilots' quarters (and yes, the door is locked), the kissing is getting pretty intense. They start to undress each other in a very "I've wanted to do this since Zak was alive" kind of beastly, sad, sexy way, and the way Starbuck's going for it, Apollo's going to have bruises. She pulls him down on top of her, flashing back to Anders pulling her down to a bed. Lee starts to get weirded out, because she's hurting him, and begs her to slow down because this isn't how he imagined it. She flashes back again, this time to her straddling Anders as she's pulling Lee down onto the table, but instead of this slowing her down, she just gets angrier and more desperate and more sad. "This isn't a race," Lee yelps. "Kara, what's going on? What's going on?" She smiles, the angry one: "What's wrong with you, all right?" What's wrong with Lee is that he loves her, but is being pulled in about six different directions, romantically, and this is the one direction that's turning really ugly, really fast. He looks down at her, sad, hurt, realizing they're in a bad trap. He doesn't speak.
"Okay, you know what? I don't wanna know. I don't wanna know." Girl, you have no idea. Kara pushes Lee off and starts dressing. "Hey," he whines, "what about us?" She laughs. "There is no us, all right? I just wanted a good lay. There is nothing here. Do you get that? Nothing." She dares him to say otherwise, but he gives in so easily that she just screams, "My gods!," exasperated. He comes in again, this time like a friend, over her shoulder, on a bunk: "Hey." She stands up and seems ready to shoot him. "Well, that's just great. Frack or fight, huh?" He steps right up in her business: "Okay, maybe I am just a quick lay. But, Kara, I'm also your friend." True. She takes advantage: "I am hung up on a dead guy, okay? And it is pissing me off. And I don't know what I'm doing." Nice to know that, even now, she can tell him parts of the truth. Lee turns and thinks about this, the crush part and the best friend part engaging in a brief war: "Anders, right? On Caprica, the resistance fighter." Kara pushes this off, because "Samuel" is dead, and Lee starts to give her a speech starting with "For once in your life..." but Kara translates this as pity. Lee: "You haven't got my pity! Listen, you are fine. You're fine with the dead guys. It's the living guys you can't deal with." Which is ironic on all cylinders but still true. She slaps him, and they look at each other, and she grabs his face, kissing him roughly. Lee's hands don't know what to do. She pushes off, and he's a little angry and intense by now, even though the last kiss was basically an apology for being a freak, and Kara grabs the bottle and swings out of the room.
We come in, slow motion, on a flickering light, the back of Kara's head, quick jump cuts as she raises the bottle again and again, sometimes looking at a screen and sometimes away, at nothing, as the loop of Beano's death plays again and again. In just a few seconds, the bottle is nearly empty, and we finally come around on Kara's face, which is dead, drunk, unthinking, and she's losing her dexterity, and she finally drains the bottle. There's a very cool act-out here, where the camera catches her at the moment of casually tossing the empty bottle: it leaves her hand and the screen goes black. That makes up for the fact that we act-out on the same exact shot twice later on. This makes me very sad, because it's another trope that hits me hard. There's a Gwyneth Cylon movie called Bounce where her son's father has died in a plane crash, and you come in on this scene of him playing an aviation game on his computer -- about half into the movie, I'd say -- and it takes a few minutes for you to realize: he's crashing the plane, over and over and over, and wondering if that's what it was like for his dad, is this what it felt like, and it's awful, and they don't mention this or really point it out very much, but anyway it's at least this bad, and the point is that I've brought some baggage to this scene, but no matter what: it's beautifully and effectively done.
Post-commercials, Starbuck is still being chased by Scar in a very flippy manner. He just keeps coming. She gets ahead of him and then abruptly turns around, going for a game of Chicken. Kat finally gets visual on her, and his grossed out by what she sees, which is Starbuck giving in to depression in a pretty spectacular way: "All right, Scar, let's see how much you like playing Chicken when you can't download, bitch. How's it feel, you bastard? One of us is gonna have to break away first and it isn't gonna be me." Kat begs Starbuck to break, but Scar keeps coming at us.
Three hours ago, Starbuck wakes up, feeling like hell. It's a nice little moment. I wonder what the first thing was that she thought of when she woke up. I hate mornings like those, but at least I've never had to open my eyes and think "incest" as like, my very first thing. Your day's starting so bad it's not getting better, if that happens.
In the Briefing Room, Starbuck looks like hell. She trails in and out of her phrases, rubs her nose, has a crazy hangover. The pilots are varying levels of asleep as she explains that in "two-on-two engagements," the Raiders will isolate one Viper and gang up on it -- she pops more pain pills -- "hoping to kill it before his wingman has a chance to protect him." A crewman brings her a report. Starbuck: "...Which is exactly what happened to Jo Jo, twenty minutes ago." Aw, man, he and BB didn't even die together. That's so sad. Duck wonders if it was Scar, and it was. Starbuck actually looks stronger suddenly, because her rage sustains her: "Bastard smoked Jo Jo and jumped away in less than fifteen seconds, before his wingman could get a shot off." Kat has, apparently, entered a new phase of being disappointed, because she immediately gets up Starbuck's ass about how she was supposed to be leading that patrol, but maybe it was "too early in the morning" for her. Starbuck: "What exactly are you trying to say, lieutenant?" And what she's trying to say, Captain, was that Starbuck stayed up all night drinking, and thus has murdered Jo Jo. Starbuck sends the entire squadron out of the room, presumably so that there will be no witnesses, but actually, because Kat is committing total insubordination on this, and her opinion is additionally wrong, because now she's looking for any excuse. It's stopped being about the squad and pilot safety and started being about taking Kara down, which is stupid and will get you killed. And I'm bothered by Kat's shit-talking in front of the squad, both because it lowers morale and Starbuck's effectiveness as a leader, and thus will kill pilots, but also because: what, because Starbuck flouts authority that makes it right for Kat to do so? Like Starbuck's just getting what she deserves? That's fucked. That's Tigh Logic. And I don't like that the episode basically leads us there, because it's ugly and wrong. Kat doesn't get a pass just because Starbuck's fucking up, any more than Starbuck gets a pass because Tigh is a dick. That's not how life works, for grownups.
Kat looks resigned, Starbuck looks hardcore. They consider each other. Starbuck: "What is it with you, Katraine? Ever since I got back [presumably from Pegasus], you've been on my ass like a bad rash." Instead of answering this question, which is unanswerable for several reasons, Kat presses another button: "Coming late for a briefing because you're hung over, that's bad enough. But when you back out on a mission?" Starbuck tells her the regrettable but -- at least in terms of logic -- right answer: "I put Snake in my place because I was in no condition to fly. And I knew that." Kat's using a Gaius logic here, and Starbuck isn't: either way, we're here now, and I'm not flying, and you can bitch about me getting drunk several hours ago, but you cannot tell me I should have been out there. Starbuck: "You see, unlike you, I don't take a bunch of pills and then climb into my cockpit so wired that I can't land the frackin' ship." Kat looks Starbuck up and down and again doesn't answer this: "Starbuck, you're an embarrassment. You used to be the hottest stick on the Fleet. Now, you're just a reckless drunk that sends other people out to get killed." Even though this is Kat's plot-tooliest scene, her delivery of that line is wonderful.
Kat and Starbuck stare at each other for a bit and Starbuck gets way close, stepping up onto the seat parapet so that she's taller than Kat. "What're you gonna do, hmm? What are you gonna do, you gonna hit me, Starbuck?" They cock their heads at each other, and Starbuck does some button-pushing of her own: "It scares you, does it?" I love how they are having two completely separate conversations about how the other person sucks, and have nothing to do with each other. That's so real. Kat gets louder: "Actually, no." But Starbuck keeps it going with that great angry fake smile she gets in situations: "You're afraid most of the time, Kat. You're afraid that you're gonna end up like that picture of Reilly's girlfriend." Oh, now I get it. I thought that was weird, highlighting some random dead girl instead of the obvious dead pilot, but we're not talking about warriors, we're talking about regular people all of a sudden, and they both have to be both, and the stress is unbelievable. Kat looks away. Starbuck: "Some little, forgotten picture that nobody really remembers." Imagine your hero saying this to you, even after you've determined the exact measurements of every crack in the legend: "You see, that's why you're riding my ass so hard. So no one will notice that Scar scares the living crap out of you." Because Scar is code for a lot of things, including Kara's fear of the Cylons, and her belly scar, and her scars from her mom, and Kat's fear of not measuring up to Starbuck (compare with Gaius's disappoinment about Roslin's letter), and Kat's general angst about being on edge all the time, and her fear about not being the best, and her fear about failing the Fleet (remember the crack!), and Kara's right about all of it, but since she's now a huge drunk, she only sees the finger pointing and not the three fingers and thumb she's pointing back at herself, as they say. But because any time anybody says anything so terribly true that you cannot handle it, apparently you slap or punch them, Kat's eyes come alive and she swings. And in the second before she connects, Starbuck smiles a smile she could have stolen directly from the face of Colonel Saul Tigh, and it is not pretty.
Kara comes back up and wipes the blood off, smiling that she's about to actually kill this girl, and CAG Apollo enters with a "'Ten-hut!" Kat scrambles away to a wall, having just punched a superior asshole, and Kara stares at her. Kara -- blood in her teeth -- tells Apollo that they were just having a "little tactical discussion," and he surmises that it might have gotten "lively." He's so many things at this very second, so disappointed and worried, and he cares so much: "Right, I'm pairing you two up." Kat's at attention, and does that funny thing where you look at your enemy like, "Seriously? We have to be lab partners now? Fuckin' seriously?" Because there's a level on which Kat and Kara both know this has to play out between them, no matter how energetic and angry it gets. Apollo's got "a hunch" that a couple of Raiders are going to hit 2-5-9, where we're going to be ending up, and he wants his two "heavy hitters" there to greet them. Starbuck's like, "Dude, you're burning me," but he just tells them they have forty-nine minutes. Kat leaves, and Lee looks at Kara, so sad: "Starbuck." She looks up, feeling awful about any number of things, and looks at him, slumped and hurting. "...Are you okay?" And she snaps to attention, and it is beautiful, because I've never seen somebody cowboy up with just her face before.
We cut back and forth between Starbuck and Kat preparing for the patrol. Kat visits the memorial hallway, in formal dress, and there are several people paying their respects as usual, with the candles and the pictures and everything. Kara gets into her gear and straps in, looking hard and very cold. Kat pins the picture of Reilly's girlfriend to the wall and looks at her. This moment was originally at the end of the episode, but I like it better here, because it means something completely different and sadder and better than it would have as a coda. On the deck, Kat breathes steadily, thinking hard, before boarding her Viper. We cut to that shot of just Kara's face, in her helmet, those blue interiors making her look like a dead thing, like a death mask.
Cut to the opening title card so that we know it's the scene from the beginning of the episode, but it's so different now. Way more so than one might think. When Starbuck mentions that this is where BB and Jo Jo died, it's not just a random reference; when Kat asks about Reilly's girlfriend, it's not just a tip-of-the-tongue puzzler. When Starbuck tells her to shut the fuck up, it's not just because Kat's an annoying crackhead. When Kat thinks maybe the girl's name was Kassie, it's not just a shot in the dark. And when Kat thinks she's spotted Scar, she's not just adrenalized -- she's choosing glory over prudence. Kara flashes back to the Beano video and says that the Raider isn't acting like Scar, then is hit. She flashes back to Kat punching her, because the real truth is not that nailing Scar is a competition for them; the real truth is that Scar has become each other, and everything that takes things away from them. Parents have to die. It's the only way children come into their own. Starbuck can't even hear Kat begging her to let it drop, begging for her position -- she flashes back to drinking, watching the video -- and Kat finally finds her, just as she's heading into her game of Chicken. Their screwed-up masks face off and Kat is screaming, "Wake up! He's a machine, he's not gonna break!" And there's Scar coming at us. Again.
We cut from Raider to Viper, from Scar to Starbuck, and she's mumbling, "I got nothing to lose," as Kat's screaming that this is suicide. This is why there was the weird radio silence the first time around: so we couldn't hear Kara's intensely upsetting monologue where she dares Scar to kill her for good. There's just her face, her dead eyes slowly opening, the shots lighting her up in all directions, like she's watching a fireworks show. We flash to her goodbye with Anders, her eyes tracking up to his face as she pledges to come back. But if he's really dead, she doesn't have to. She doesn't have to keep her word if he's dead, which means that she could die right now without feeling like she's breaking her word. She focuses on tiny details as we cut back and forth with that cold face: her dog-tags, his hand, his eyes. The editing is fantastic. The lights flash across Kara more and more intensely, drawing a parallel to the video light playing across her as she drank a whole bottle of booze: is it real or is it art? Anders kisses her hand as she weeps. Is this how Beano died? Is this what it felt like?
That's how you fucking do it, dude, and that's why I like this episode now. So Kara makes a different choice than Lee did -- although, to be fair, he was hypoxic at the time -- and her eyes snap open, terrified about what she was about to do. "Gods damn it!" She pulls off, forcing Scar into a tight one-eighty, and tells Kat she's putting him right in front of her: "Do not miss him, you frackin' stim junkie." That's my girl. There's no love and no joy in this, but she's making the call and doing it in the most Starbucky fashion imaginable: with snark somewhere on the scale of pointless bitchery. There is a lot of flying around and shooting and general videogame action, and then Starbuck suddenly banks left, giving Kat the shot. Kat comes out of the sun, right? Like you'd have to use your thumb to see her, but Scar doesn't have a thumb, just a grudge. She takes him out and he goes sailing, trailing smoke and grody blood, and crashes on an asteroid. "And that's the way it's done!" Kat screams. "Yeah! Let's go home, Skipper!" Starbuck's still herself -- back to herself -- enough to be pretty sad about missing out on this, having handed it to the little upstart, and as they drive away she looks back at Scar, her Scar, dying slowly on the rocks. I hope she's saying goodbye.
Back in the Pilots' Lounge, there is liquor flying everywhere and everyone is cheering. Even the old guard, Tigh and Adama, are there, drinking in a stentorian fashion. Even the grounded: Lee's relieved that the monster's been killed. Even the Raptor pilots are invited: Helo's cheering too. Aww, is that mean to say? Kat's standing on a table, doing the entire Starbuck routine, with Kara staring at her from the back of the crowd. "Yo, Starbuck! Hey, Starbuck! My cup runneth dry! Seems I recall someone boasting that my lips would never touch this rim." Everybody watches as Starbuck -- so, so slowly -- walks through the crowd, looking around at everybody staring at her, wondering if they are actually going to see a murder happen. Adama watches her affectionately; Tigh basically starts weeping with schadenfreude and joy that he gets to see this while relatively sober; Apollo loves her. Kara grabs a bottle bearing a relative resemblance to a champagne bottle (maybe they got replacement champagne from the Pegasus?) in the upside-down way you do when you're about to throw some bows, and approaches, staring up. Kat and Kara look at each other, everybody holds their breath, and KAra flips the bottle around, looking into Kat's eyes, and then pours the bottle into the cup without looking away from Kat's face. Kat gloats for a second, not getting how much is at stake here, but as Helo and Lee watch, proud, and Kara says quietly, "You earned it," Kat finally understands that she just beat Starbuck. No more Starbuck. She got what she wanted and the upside is that she wins, but the downside is that she doesn't get to have a Starbuck to worship anymore. She just killed the hero. It's heartbreaking and only takes a second -- I missed it until this last viewing -- but it's there, and it's rough. She is a good actor, this girl, and deserves a lot of credit for the essential, beautiful textures she adds to this stuff.
Kara turns to the crowd, and Adama is proud of her, all the old guard know what she's just done, because they had to do it too, once. The pilots cheer, and Starbuck raises the bottle. "To BB. Jo Jo. Reilly. Beano." She almost starts crying. Lee looks at her, so involved it's like there's nobody else there. It's not like he knew she was lying, but he...pretty much knew she was lying, when she said she didn't remember them. "Dipper. Flattop." She starts to lose it here, then rights herself. "Chuckles," she smiles. Kat squeezes back a tear. "Jolly. Crashdown. Shepherd." Hotdog watches, fairly broken by this point. "Dash." She's now forcing them out. "Flyboy." Helo breathes, slow and steady. "Stepchild. Puppet." Duck closes his eyes. Adama is proud, and sad, and hurts. Tigh wells up with tears. You got me, show. I'm back. Fucking Tigh? You got me with Tigh? It's one of the best shots of the episode, just a wonderful tiny sliver of a shot of Michael Hogan doing the actual thing that was born to do. But Tigh? My only love, sprung from my only hate. That's rough. "Fireball." The wall is for the Colonies, but Kara is for the fallen. (I'm now so upset by the whole Tigh-got-me thing that I pull a Starbuck and start naming stuff around my apartment: "Ashtray." "St. Clare." "Captain Oats." "Peyton Manning." "Superman." "Patty Hearst." "Ganesh." "On Man And His Symbols." "Whitechocolatespaceegg.") Kara looks at them, and doesn't move. She closes her eyes, exhausted. Lee knows her better than anyone else, and steps forward: "To all of them." Kara looks at him gratefully, for breaking the silence, and Adama speaks: "So say we all." Tigh's lips quiver and I go back to naming things. Everyone: "So say we all." Kara repeats it (and I note that Tigh already has his mug to his lips): "So say we all." She takes just a tiny, tiny sip from the bottle, and stares out at them.
The theme from The Deer Hunter (yes, it's wicked appropriate, if you're not into chasing references) begins to play and we cut to Starbuck and Helo sparring in the gym. "I could have done it, you know. Could have taken out Scar. Head-on pass, straight for him. Just needed to get a little closer." Helo wonders why she didn't. Starbuck: "Probably would have died in the process. The bastard was too good. Couple months ago, I wouldn't have even thought about that." She's pretty grossed out about every single word in that sentence. "...Would have just gone for the glory hoping I could pull it out of the fire somehow." Which is the thing that Kat took, at the beginning of the patrol, but hopefully she left it out there too. "Quit kicking yourself," says Helo. I love Helo. He's like eight feet tall and gorgeous, and could probably lift a house and throw it several feet, but all he does instead is tell you how special and lovely you are, and how much he loves you. Even if you're the ex-boyfriend! Even if you attack him with a monkey wrench! What are monkey wrenches to him? Nothing but obstacles to him telling you how wonderful you are; a break in the conversation. What a guy.
"You did the right thing, and called in your wingman. Okay?" Helo's so loving, and so, so does not get it, because Raptors aren't about glory, they're about utility. If he were truly capable of understanding just how much Starbuck's lost, he would have flown Vipers in the first place. Or maybe he has an inner-ear disease or something. I'm just saying, he's the perfect guy to have this conversation with. "Scar's dead. You and Kat came back alive." He says this looking Starbuck right in the eye; she can only manage it about half the time. She starts talking about Anders, how she can't get over "this insane hope" the he might be alive, and pleads with her eyes for Helo to understand, or tell her why it's not true, or otherwise help her out of this. Helo: "You've got something to live for now. Not just die for." I'm dubious about the actual truth of the underlying concept, but, like, Helo's not the person you go to about codependence or selling yourself out for the person you love. He's the person you go to for big strong hugs and occasional boxing matches. Starbuck takes him out and he rolls around on the ground, laughing, as she pile-drives onto him, and they giggle like children as he taps out, taps out, taps out.
Turns out I love this episode. Thanks to bluedevilblue, hushpuppy22, wisteria, and of course adonis23, as well as a host of other users, for their surgically intense interrogation of this character and this episode, not to mention radically affecting my own personal reading, this week. If you're actually still reading this recap, chances are you'd like the forum discussions currently underway on this very site. Either way, week: the fucking very awesome Dana Delany reminds everybody about a few plot threads when she and her militant terrorist group hold a bunch of people hostage (including Dee and Lee) after they learn about Sharon. Boom boom boom.