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...And we're back! It's no gold-medal "Home" or "Pegasus," but it's a good solid silver, along the lines of "Bastille Day" or "Flesh And Bone": a complex, multi-layered story that moves the arc forward while still sniffing the roses here and there. We jump ahead a month -- jumping ahead a month is the new "48 hours earlier"! -- to find the newly-promoted Major Lee Adama doing long-term rotations on the Pegasus, now commanded by a barely-competent and paranoid former engineer, played by John Heard. Everybody's already done mourning Billy, although we do see Roslin smiling at a picture of him and feeling a bit itchy about his awesome replacement, pollster/hottie/total Cylon Tory Foster. Zarek and Dualla -- having gotten over the losses of Maier and Billy, respectively -- are ready to hop in bed with Baltar and Lee, respectively. Neither match is very romantic, but only the former is a universal bad idea on every level. The other one is just a wet blanket of exposition and suddenly-evaporating chemistry. Starbuck butts heads with John Heard and puts Major Lee into the fresh and exciting position of having to yell at her a lot, but some time during the lost month, they've done almost all the necessary work to forgive each other their season-long sequence of trespasses. The tag-team bitch-slapped John Heard then dies saving the Pegasus from a really impressive and spooky Cylon "distress call" trap, and Lee becomes the Commander of Pegasus, making Starbuck the new CAG back home. A young Geminese stowaway is convinced by Doc Cottle to ask for asylum when Adama balks at her underage abortion, and Baltar uses the resulting standoff with the Geminon fundamentalists to basically set Roslin up to lose the elections: after convincing Roslin that the 50,000 survivors in the Fleet are sustainable only by a squeak, she outlaws abortion in the Fleet against her own ideals -- and he then very publicly castigates her for the policy, putting in his own bid for the President. Basically, he makes her look so awful -- and so skillfully uses her past history as the David Koresh of the Geminon literal-interpretationist militants-- that it doesn't even really matter if the whole sustainable-population thing is actually true. It's so sneaky, smart, schemy, and cool that even Six has to give Baltar the slow clap. This show rocks. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Previously: Billy died; Starbuck got smacked around by fate and shot Apollo, who was so very much in love with Dualla that it overruled some important shit we only get to see in the "Not Actually Previously On...": Gina apparently told Gaius to run for President in the upcoming election, and Adama put a man named Barry Garner (played by John Heard from Cat People and C.H.U.D., of course, but especially notable for playing my favorite character ever to appear on The Sopranos in possession of both legs) in command of the Pegasus, over Tigh's complaints that he was just an engineer, and not the excellently recommended officer that both Cain and Fisk were.
Open on a Pegasus training mission, Raptors 718 and 314 in the sky. The non-pi one, with which we'll mostly be dealing, is piloted by Lt. Richard "Buster" Bayer and ECO Lt. Lyla "Shark" Ellway. Their red shirts are very flattering. Buster is also apparently a regular guest on Stargate: Atlantis, which explains why he is so charming, and why I've never seen him before. Back on Pegasus CIC, the Dualla is named Lt. Hoshi, which is very funny if you have poor taste in spin-offs. His name means "Star," he looks like Red Devil (whom we'll meet a bit later) but without the lips, he's got this crazy Vulcan hairdo snatched right off the scalp of Jolene Blalock, and he was cut from "Pegasus" but appears briefly in "Resurrection Ship, Part I" -- which I note only because it means he's been in CIC longer than almost anybody. The Pegasus Gaeta is Ensign Abel Thornton, who looks exactly like a younger, blonder Laird. Actually, you could switch their functions and I wouldn't notice, so I might be wrong, but Thornton runs around a lot more, like Gaeta does. Buster and Hoshi talk about how their dradis contact is being continually interrupted by stellar EMI activity from a binary star system, just like Sharon said it would be, about, I assume, these very pulsars. I draw the connection to Sharon's intel because one of the three kinds of pulsars, the x-ray kind, results when another kind, the Rotation kind whose radiation comes from slowing spin, happens in a binary system -- the expanding partner transmits matter to the neutron partner, and that's where the radiation comes from. This show increases my science power. Buster decides to put "a little distance between" them and the Fleet, since it's only a trainer exercise and it's good to have dradis contact, but Shark is kind of icked out by this, because Cylons are scary and they're already like baby gazelles out here.
Outside a locked hatch in the Galactica pilots' quarters, Duck and somebody else are banging on the door. "Hey! Whoever's in there, time's up! Let's go, come on! Gotta a couple of tired Viper jockeys out here wanna sleep." Apollo shouts at Duck to go take a shower first, and opens the drapes of the rack. He sits up and groans, still stiff where he got Thraced. Dualla lies in the rack behind him, setting up lots of questions for him to knock down with his new, incredibly intense and wordy Exposition Infection. I'd say he caught it from Roslin, but I don't think they've met. In a nutshell: it's been a month since the hostage situation on Cloud 9, and Cottle has cleared Apollo for duty after the shooting, although he's still not flying due to his agoraphobic post-trauma stuff. Dualla is adorable wiggling around in the sheets the way you do: "So, you ready to go into the belly of the Beast?" The "Beast" is the nickname for Pegasus, and the "Bucket" is what they call Galactica. That's pretty funny, I like that. Apollo leans back in to kiss her, using metonymy to segue back to romance-land: "Don't we make a pair?" So...which one's the Beast and which one's the Bucket? Neither of them are interesting enough to be all that that Beastly, but I wouldn't call them Buckets either. They make out and Dualla's all resistant and Apollo's all cutesy and flirty, and they are doing a good job of selling this whole "they've now been dating at least a month" vibe.
Dualla finally pushes Apollo out of bed, and we see he seems to favor boxer-briefs. They chat while he puts his uniform back on. "It's only a temporary assignment," he explains writh regard to his transfer to the Beast, which means it's him that's the Beast in the relationship. And it's adorable that he thinks that. "I should be back again in a couple of weeks." So I guess this whole time he's not been on Pegasus command, which jibes with his CAG vibe in "Scar," so we're going with that. "Why'd the old man pick you?" asks Dualla, like she needs to. Apollo: "One word: Starbuck." Dualla sits up, and she plays this very canny:. "Is she in hack again?" She says this in a family, hilarious way, which is smarter than being all, "That problem personage?" because -- given the quad...triangle, now -- that would be dumb and less than supportive. Apollo giggles. They should be talking through a mirror in this scene, is how intimately and well they're doing this. Apollo: "Not yet. But apparently, she's been driving Commander Garner up one bulkhead and down the other ever since she took over flight training on -- what'd you call it?" Short-term memory loss is the first sign of Exposition Infection. She stretches and crosses the room, putting her arms around Apollo from behind. "And since I won't be flying combat for a while, I..." Dualla plays with his uniform's band collar -- and its new insignia -- as he dresses, and asks, "Were you going to mention these?" "Oh yeah," Apollo shrugs. "Got promoted to Major." She's very proud, but not like Ellen about it. Just happy for him. She can't do all that jealous girlfriend shit, or the "that's my man" shit, because it's not who she is: she's the one that calls him home. "Well, don't sound so happy!" she jokes. He sighs, "Doesn't mean much," and he has no idea how true that is, because in this episode, the promotions flow like moonshine. She chides him, and he grins, turning: "Oh, well, if you say so, then it must be true." Then -- this is awesome -- she kisses him pushing him back onto a table, and all we see are her legs flopping up in the air as she kisses him. So cute.
In the Galactica hangar, Cally brings Chief (Chief!) a problem with a just-delivered cargo container the size of a Hummer. "We were unloading one of the containers and then one of the crates shifted." Caution: pregnant girls may have shifted in transit. "So we looked inside, and saw that something was moving." They peer inside the crate as Cally explains they locked that bitch up straightaway and called the Marines immediately. This was the right thing to do, but Chief's not the kind of guy to sit around like that: "Give me a light." They all cluster around as he unlocks it, and Cally warns him to wait, but he opens it against her protests. Inside, there's a distinctly Alien face-hugger vibe as he sweeps the (surprisingly empty-ish) crate with the light. A girl crawls out, finally, and the camera takes its time revealing that we don't recognize her. What if it's a Cylon we know? "Is this the Galactica?" asks the girl, Rya. What if it's a Cylon we don't? She looks and behaves somewhat like Selma Blair, but without the stylish total lack of innocence. She asks if Chief is Doc Cottle, and we drop to her full belly. Oh, I get it. Topical. How bad's this going to get? Chief is worried, and the scared girl blinks in the spot, which he has helpfully forgotten to take off her very young face.
Pegasus CIC. Buster, and Shark all wig about the dradis interference, having one of those cell-phone conversations ("Can you hear me?" "Hey, are you..." "Hey, can you...are you there?"). Outside 718's windscreen, it's all clouds, zero visibility -- drives it home. Buster offers to spin up the FTL drive just in case things get hairy as Shark calls in the emergency and Hoshi can't hear her. "Pegasus...distress." Hoshi tries to confirm the emergency call as Commander Garner enters Pegasus CIC. I like how we're using radio interference to delay the whole story, like in the first run against Scar when we didn't know the whole Kat/Kara story yet. Hoshi explains to Garner about the possible emergency transmission, and Garner starts pacing. They watch as the Raptors blink off dradis, and we get a close-up of Garner, clearly in the weeds after being onscreen exactly thirty-seven seconds. The exteriors on the Raptor shots are totally gorgeous, thanks to the pulsar issue -- all nebula-looking clouds and big bright spots off the lens, as the Raptors slowly fade from our screens, too, in the light. Brilliant.
Credits. 49,584 souls in the Fleet, meaning at least one baby has been born since at least seven people died on Cloud 9 -- I don't know if this is purposeful, but it would be even more ironic, given this episode, if it had stayed constant, or even raised slightly.
Lee's now on Pegasus, heading down a corridor toward CIC. Starbuck, skulking, sees him coming and drops in behind him: "Welcome aboard, Major." Lee looks back at her and keeps walking: "I didn't expect a welcoming committee." Surprise, surprise, they haven't spoken since Starbuck shot him. That's very Lee, and very Kara -- and I wonder just how much of it arises from her implicit acceptance of Dualla's role in Lee's life last week/a month ago. She's probably just been nursing that for a month: "I know I dated the wrong brother, but that doesn't mean you have to date the wrong sister!" Note to all: date outside your adoptive gene pool and this shit won't happen. Off Apollo's "welcoming committee" line, Starbuck scoffs. "Don't flatter yourself. I was in the neighborhood." Yep, just standing and lurking and loitering in the neighborhood and ignoring the fact you're on shift. He ignores her, entering CIC.
Garner welcomes Apollo, and gives him the sitrep: "We have just lost contact with two of our Raptors out on a training mission." Starbuck is agog, and Garner calls her on the thing I just called her on, which is nice: "Captain Thrace. Perhaps if you were actually down on the flight deck and monitoring your Raptors the way any training officer worth a damn would have done, you would know that four of our pilots were missing." This will get sloppy in a second, but right now Garner's right. He nods with his head to indicate a private conference, shutting Kara out. She takes off, rightfully pissed now for a few reasons, not the least that Lee is -- as far as she's concerned -- playing the Big Brother card, the "let the adults talk" card. Which he's generally doing to everybody that's not Lee Adama, but with her, it's really hurtful. "They disappeared from the dradis about an hour ago. They're gone..."
In the Pegasus showers, all the pilots are chatty and worried and half-naked. Starbuck enters, bitching from go: "Shut the hell up! We lose two Raptors in a training mission, and I only find out when the Commander throws it in my face?" They all go silent, feeling guilty. But this part, I don't get, because she may not be part of the crew, but it's her training mission. She's the guy on that. So is Garner really that bad at this? Because not even Michael onThe Office (Great Scott!) is this crizappy. "Don't all speak at once!" Starbuck thunders. The nearest pilot clears his throat: "Sir, it's been made clear that discussing flight-deck situations with anyone outside Pegasus crew is not allowed. Sorry, sir." He does mean it nicely -- even does that "focusing on the person's left cheek" thing that means you're embarrassed. They all stand around looking at their bare feet. Starbuck: "Of course it was. So: barely competent and paranoid. Huh, there's a hell of a combination." And since Garner's the uber-Tigh, the Pegasus version really -- especially where Starbuck's concerned, apparently -- I'm guessing we're eliding a lot of her fucking with him this last month; he's gotta push hers as well as she pushes his. She stalks off, aiming to misbehave.
Garner and Apollo have a drink in the Commander's office, no indication given as to how really not getting the Starbuck issue Garner actually is. He still thinks this is a "let the adults discuss" issue -- when it's clear he's in over his head. This is my most hated character in literature; it's driven me crazy since Dr. Gilchrist and Lady Imeyne in Doomsday Book. It's why I was so irrational about Tigh until "Scar" -- the obstructionist insecure cock-blocker who will defend his ego and incompetence while people are dying. Garner: "I have a problem. That problem's name is Kara Thrace." Apollo jumps to claim that he can "handle" her, and points out that she's "one hell of a Viper pilot," which is, of course, lost on Garner: "I should cut her some slack because she's good in the cockpit. Is that what you're saying?" It's hilarious because, of course, that's SOP, but also, Lee's behavior in this scene is really interesting: when Cain elevated Kara and laid Lee low, Kara acted like somebody shot her dog, and now that it's reversed, Apollo is, of course, trying to pacify both sides. (Kara, if you'll remember, almost shot the woman in the face. I would not mind if Lee did the same here.) Garner: "Nobody ever cut us any slack in the engine room, I can tell you that right now." He stands up. "But then, uh, I don't know...maybe being a snipe is different than being a viper jockey. No flashy stunts for us. No flying by the seat of our pants down there!" So that's how he's playing it in his head: it's incompetence or inexperience -- it's the fact that everyone in command, and the pilots, are blinded by their own top-doggery. They don't really understand the trenches. They're divas who all think they're better than Garner is -- and now he gets to show them. No wonder he hates Kara -- she does that same thing to the viewers, and she's not even real! -- but it's interesting to consider how much of this kind of sentiment Chief might share, frankly. He only gets angry when this line gets pushed, when pilots (including Boomer in the mini, even though that was for show) lord it over and question him. I know, he's all perfect and stuff, but like, boyfriend's in need of a storyline!
Apollo watches Garner convince himself of his own superiority in the face of his fear, which tiny taint amps itself up ever so slightly all across this monologue: "The engine room is like a finely tuned watch, and everything in it needs to be monitored and maintained in a very precise fashion." My emphasis, of course: paint-by-numbers symbolism coming up, on my mark. "Nobody freelances. Everything is done in the proper way at the proper time, in the proper order! Or there'd be no power. No lights. No hot showers for your flyboys." Apollo is bored by this (or drifting into a whole other kind of reverie), but the guy's got a point: the engineers and deck hands have to be all about the details and the 24/7, hands dirty, while the pilots get to run through the hangar bay, shoot their wads, and come back home to applause. "You know, Major, I think some of the people around here could learn a thing or two from the snipes," Garner says. Dude, shut up! All our Chief ever did was be adorable, fuck a toaster, and lie about it, man. He doesn't even own a stupid symbolic watch.
I like it when Roslin takes her meetings up in First Class. I wish I understood the Colonial One's architecture better, I never know where anything is. Roslin smiles sadly at a picture of herself with Billy -- thank God and "one month later" we didn't have to watch her deal with that grief, or with her rage at Adama, with whom she's now chummy, and only have to watch this obvious sign language for "She's still kind of sad but it's okay now." Tory Foster, former politico in Delphi on Caprica, is Billy's replacement as head/only aide. She's gorgeous and funny and smart and snappy; she's like on loan from The West Wing -- same frisky brilliance, same wry humor, same dedication to the Fleet, same kind of storyline as introduction. She apologizes for interrupting Roslin's Billy time for a campaign meeting: "We've been putting it off for weeks -- and we do have a Presidential election coming up, unless you've decided not to run...." Roslin smiles and drops a Laura bomb on her: "Yeah, and to be perfectly honest with you, Tory, I've thought about it a few times." I love when she just cuts you dead with her process like that. Tory blinks. "But, um, no, I'm still here. There's so much to do. So..." She breathes, putting it all aside like she does: "Let's talk politics."
Tory produces the results from "our first Fleet-wide poll" -- the "our" here refers to humanity, because it's important we realize she's a bad-ass political mind, just like Mark-Paul Gosselaar. This is because we have to trust Tory because she is a total Cylon. "How did you manage this?" Roslin asks. Tory smiles proudly: "I was precinct captain for the Federalist party in Delphi for five years. We did polls to see what the mayor should have for lunch." Note: Federalist. Colonist Rights. Not universalizing particular Colonies' beliefs over the objections of their sisters'. I'm going out on a limb here, but I think Tory's a bit more on the side of individual Colonies, based on that dropped fact, than a centralized government. Which is Roslin is totally not, at least not anymore, because there's no republic, here, but it also makes me wonder how Tory feels about Tom Zarek, given that the subjugation of Sagittaron was the whole reason for his terrorism in the first place. That's a lot to pull from one aside, but it's better than just typing "Total Cylon. Total Cylon. Total Cylon" over and over. And with an anvilicious name like that, Tory's gotta be one or the other, so I'm glad they went with the irony. Roslin smiles -- guess she picked her replacement well! -- and Tory gives her a précis: "For what it's worth, you've managed to walk a very fine line. Your Presidential bid has the support of both the military and the civilian Fleet, and you've received enthusiastic endorsements from the Geminese religious leaders." Roslin laughs that "it helps when your only real rival is a convicted terrorist," which makes Tory giggle, because it's funny, but I guess we have our answer re: Tory on Zarek. Oh well. Total Cylon. At least she has the grace to not add: "And the Geminese! I bet it really helps your numbers with them that you're a full-on cult leader, Madame Freak!"
In Zarek's Cloud 9 stateroom, Zarek talks to himself in the mirror: "Am I capable of leading this Fleet? Absolutely." He turns from what seemed to be press practice, and speaks to a mystery person. "...And for a time, I almost had a chance. Until Laura Roslin ascended from politician to prophet. The truth is, I can't win." The mystery person he's addressing is Gaius Baltar, wearing a kick-ass suit and lookin' good. "But you could," Zarek tells him. Baltar lounges, looking like he feels real pretty right about now: "You flatter me, Mr. Zarek. Really. But I'm not sure I'm cut out for a life in politics, as I find the vice-presidency -- and everything to do with it -- very tedious." Plus, you know, I'm not Maier. I don't swing that way. Gaius takes a drink and smiles in a way that suggests perhaps he does. He is such a preening ego that even praise this faint could get you to second base. "I would imagine carrying water for Roslin would get old after a time," agrees Zarek, "But it's the office that makes you the perfect candidate, Doctor. You're pre-sold." You have no idea. "Really?" asks Gaius. "To whom?" There's nothing more attractive to a low-life man-child like this than telling him you have the inside track on his winning -- especially since he's had the full hate on in this arena since the letter from Roslin. Wanting to beat her without trying and telling people that the whole thing is stupid and stinky are two sides of the same coin, which is worth like at least a hundred Infantile Cubits. "You'd be surprised how many people crave the assurances of cold science, as opposed to the superstitious ravings of the Geminese," says Zarek, and sits, because if there's one thing anarchists know, it's that the quickest way to an atheist's heart is through his deep superiority to everybody else. "I know there's no Santa Claus! Everybody else in the whole first grade is stupid babies!" Which has a cuteness grace period of exactly one semester from starting college, and can sometimes lead to a Philosophy major, if not down the Ayn Rand road, which is like atheism squared in precisely this way. "As a scientist, you offer hope," says Zarek. "Think about it." Baltar wants desperately to agree: "Tom. You'll just step aside?" Beat. "...Will you?" Zarek's "just happy to back a man of true conviction. A man who remembers his friends." Not to mention their Fleet-spanning, murderous system of organized crime, yes? I'm so happy. They smile at each other, very happy with themselves, and Gaius does the math: "If I've already actually signed with the actual Devil, in more ways than several, then this is like, what: Capone? Koch? I can deal with Koch."
Pegasus briefing room. Meet the very shockingly pretty (if -- and I mean no offense here, I think it's a distance over time issue, because take a look at Natasha Henstridge's IMDb listing some time, and she's like the prettiest girl ever -- slightly Outer Limits, B-actress, anthology series-looking) Captain Marcia "Showboat" Case, flight leader of Pegasus's Red Squadron. Welcome to Stephanie von Pfetten, of whom I hope to see more. Maybe she can get into a bar brawl and/or romance with Kat, or stab her to death, or something. She's clearly in command here, though, and snaps everybody to attention as Apollo enters. "At ease. Where's Stinger?" he asks, hoping he's not going to have to give him a wedgie now that he's a Major. I wish Cain had shot Stinger, dude. "He's in hack for mouthing off to Garner. Stepped on his precious little toes." Case, also exasperated with Garner's bullshit, leads a rousing laughter chorus among them all about what a dick he is. Apollo shouts into the din: "All right, lock that up!" And since he's not their boss or buddy, he has to do this with a "you suck" look at Kara, which is smart, because it gets them in line without making them think he's not a good commander, because Starbuck's the lightning rod. Which is how she likes it, so no damage there either. Apollo goes on: "Get something straight. We got two missing Raptor crews who are gonna be out of oxygen in thirty-six hours." Of course, this is very important to Apollo, since it's the first episode of all time that this hasn't ended up happening to him. Kara is sad and worried and hurt, all the same amount. "...That's all that matters. So, everyone knock off the schoolyard crap and start doing your frackin' jobs." Everybody drops their eyes, because, you know, Apollo's right. Garner's being a tool doesn't exempt them from the emergency. Apollo: "Now...we need to start thinking outside the box. Which is supposed to be what you do best," he adds at Kara. I am pretty sure this is part of an apology, frankly. She apologizes to him, "Major," and Apollo asks for all the intel there is about the Raptor crews. "Personal quirks, aircraft squawks, wireless transmissions, anything that might help." They all watch him work. "Good. Get to it." He clop-clops out of the room without looking at Kara; she watches him go, resentful and sad and still wondering where she frackin' dropped her Special Starbuck Consequence Pass. "For All Fuck-Ups, In Perpetuity."
Adama visits the pregnant girl from the teaser in the Galactica sick bay -- and yes, I do mean "Doc Cottle! Doc Cottle!" when I say that. Oh, you just thought you loved him: "Rya's four months pregnant and doesn't want to be. I understand the Geminese have a problem with women terminating their pregnancies." Could it be that the whole Federalist thing up there is the key to this whole storyline? That's fucking interesting. Let's keep an eye on that. Adama: "Tyrol said that she asked for you by name. Do you want to tell me what that's really all about?" Cottle could give a care: "Pretty straightforward, really. I get a note that a girl's on the way. She arrives. I do my work. And then she leaves. I don't ask a lot of questions." Adama advises Cottle that he's "gonna start," and there's a Old Man Glare-Off.
Cottle walks Adama over to see Rya and, scared, she looks to Cottle for support. "Don't worry, I've just come to talk," says Adama. She looks at Cottle again; did he walk her through this? He knows about the political situation, he just said. Did he set this whole thing up? Evil genius! "It doesn't matter what you say," says Rya -- somewhat by rote, perhaps. "I'm not gonna change my mind." Adama smiles at her, concerned, because that makes him feel more fatherly toward her, because his daughters always say shit like that to him. Adama: "Your parents are a little worried about you. They've contacted me through the Geminon representative." Sarah Porter! Show us Sarah Porter! Rya freaks out: "My parents. Gods." She heaves, terrified: "Do you have any idea what they would do to me?" No, but now I'd really fucking like to. The comforting smile on Adama's lovely old face drops a second. "Please, do not send me back," begs Rya. The camera pulls back to where Cottle stands, at his diagnostic board, watching. Adama: "You're a stowaway. Aboard a military ship." Salient points, dude. "Some people might say," Cottle says in this wonderful, insinuation-heavy, neener-neener tone, "[that] she was a victim of political persecution...." Adama starts to turn his head. I think he figured out Cottle's game before I did, which was just now. "Hell. She could apply for asylum," Cottle says, like he just randomly thought of this. Like he's saying, "Hell, we could have steak for dinner if you want." Adama turns the full power of the glare on Cottle: "What's that you say, bitch?" Rya steels herself: "Asylum. That's it. I want asylum." She pleads without speaking.
Colonial One. Sarah Porter! YEAH! Okay, I see some confused faces. Here's why I love Sarah Porter: because The West Wing pioneered the conservative-religious-representative as something more than a demonic cartoon, and this show gets to go all the way there, because the parallels aren't exact like on other policy/wonk shows. I may disagree with every single thing that comes out of Sarah Porter's mouth -- hate it, in fact -- but she is so real, so understandable, and so strong in her beliefs that it's possible to separate it out, unlike a lot of real-life but especially TV conservatives. You could have tea with this brilliant, strong, beautiful woman, and enjoy it, as long as you stayed inside certain conversational lines and didn't hit the hot button. And she'd be down with that, because she is a good person. And clearly Laura feels the same way -- she always treats Sarah with as much respect as I would want her to -- but the suck thing is Laura's whole job is pushing the hot button; like a monkey on crack, in fact. She doesn't have the option of having teatime go over three minutes, and that is sad. Sarah: "Under Geminon law, the girl is still the property of her parents, and they can deal with her once she's safely back on her ship." Anti-Federalist. "To be honest, I'm more concerned with the broader implications of this matter." Way anti-Federalist, heh. Roslin tries to chill her out, but Sarah's all up on it: "I know you don't want to hear this. But my people, my voters, are demanding action on this issue." Roslin sighs. "We have been through this," she says, interestingly, because her inflection makes it seem like she means with Sarah, like Sarah's been lobbying for "as long as the whole world was destroyed anyway, would you mind creating my theocratic utopia?" Which, to be fair, Roslin tried to give her. "Abortion was legal under Colonial law before the attacks, and so it is still legal today," says Roslin. Only now does Sarah get actually involved, as a person: "It's obscene. The scriptures view abortion as an abomination in the eyes of the Gods." Tory and Adama watch this shit play out with some serious awkward happening. "You cannot equivocate on this point if you want our support in the coming election," Sarah concludes. Roslin considers her for a sec, and says, "Rya Kibby's petition for asylum is under review. Thank you, Sarah, very much for coming in." I love when she does that.
Roslin stands and looks at Adama as Sarah leaves. Tory looks up at the President, freaked out as only a pollster can be by something like that. "I'm not turning that girl over. I'm certainly not banning abortion," Roslin spits, choosing to believe that Tory is more worried about the abortion thing than she is about the campaign. I'm guessing this kind of thing is going to bite Roslin in the ass at some point -- Billy certainly bit her a few times about that kind of assumption, that he shared her beliefs. "Then don't," says Tory supportively. "But we have to move aggressively on this thing." She pulls out -- is it a cell phone? Even in the Fleet, that Beltway crap still happens -- and goes running out of the office, dialing it: "I'm arranging a conference call with you and the Quorum. This is gonna get out of hand fast." Oh, is it? Because what I see happening is the foundation of every intra-republic conflict, drawn down to a microcosm: "I get that I can't just do whatever I want, personally, but how about the lovely town of Spoon River; can we hunt witches? No? What about all Chinquapin Parish or Midland County? What do we get to decide? Not that? Okay. The state of Delaware? No, fuck that. How come we get to decide A and B, but not C? Civil War!"
And not for nothing, but pretend it's not abortion, okay? Not gay marriage or the War. Pretend it's...I don't know. School systems. It's a lot easier to get crazy about when it's something like that, but that doesn't help anybody who's ambitious, because crazy gets you numbers: just ask President Laura Koresh. You ask why I brought up "temporary religious values"? Why the religious lobby is a problem? Why faith-based charities are an issue? You advance an emotional issue, sell it as vastly more important than things like the disappearing middle class, illegal strategies for wealth accumulation, tax havens for the rich, health care -- boring shit like that -- and you'll blind some people. Most people. Me. I didn't get the fight here until just now, because they played the Right to Choose card. Thought it was weird that they'd randomly drop it in there -- hearing somebody say "abortion" on TV is like seeing somebody smoke cigarettes in a movie. This isn't about Geminon or Rya Kibby, it's about Doc Cottle (Fed) getting to decide what's best for a girl from another planet, and it's about Sarah Porter (A-Fed) wanting to take women's rights out of the fucking Constitution, and it's what the Civil War and the Independence War were about, and what the Browncoats were slaughtered over, and I'm sorry if you feel I'm being partisan, but so's the show, and it's also about me, being used as a political football, losing the election for a guy I kind of liked. (Like I would even want to get married. Fuck that noise. And if you're really angry right now? Keep reading; engage with the show. I'm using a real-world example to help explain the action of the story, and the parallels at play, and I would do the same and use many of the same examples if I were on your side of the argument -- and you're not getting an answer if you email to convince me otherwise. I expect, and respect, that you've got the ability to look at things from both sides, and come to your own conclusions.) Point being, I was so sidetracked by the emotional stuff here -- by my revulsion -- that I wasn't watching the bottom line. And now Gaius Baltar is going to end up President. Guilt.
Tory leaves, and Adama pulls a shocking line of dialogue out of his hat: "She's not Billy." Roslin agrees. He sits, and won't look at her. Roslin finally sits across from him, and smiles. They consider each other for a long time, and she finally comes out with it: a hilarious, very affectionate, very adrenalized "What the fuck now, old man?" kind of "What?!" He pauses, and sighs, "I hate to say this. Because I know that this is a political issue. The fact is that that number doesn't go up very often." He points at the Whiteboard of Extinction. Roslin thinks a second, looks away, troubled, then sits way forward. "I fought for a woman's right to control her body my entire career. No," she says sweetly, still thinking, then harder: "No." Adama doesn't want to be saying this either: "I'm just remembering what you said. Right after the Cylon attack. That if we really want to save the human race, we'd better start having babies." He smiles a tiny smile, and Gods only know what he's thinking about right then, but I hope it's little Adama-Roslins. Roslin looks away, and thinks some more, sadly. I will take this moment to point out that, although I have used it several times, this is the first time the word "Cylon" has been uttered in the episode. That's where we're at with this. We haven't even seen one.
Pegasus briefing room, where Starbuck's going through all the notes and paperwork: "Nothing, nothing, and more nothing. Where is Shark's last transmission?" Case admits that there's not much going on in it, but Kara starts marking it up -- with a Bic! -- and using her intuition like an episode of Father Dowling. Sometimes reading with your lips moving is a plus. "...Eve...distress...bearing...reek...shuns...emerge-- read." Case: "They were in distress. They give a bearing...requesting instructions...it's an emergency...can you read?" That would be funny if it were a dis, but I made up the whole Starbuck Hooked On Phonics subplot long ago. Starbuck: "Maybe, but what's this 'eve' fragment here? ..Eve...distress. Eve...distress. Eve. Recei...received? Received distress call?" This is painful to watch, but it's valid for getting us from here to there: Case can buy the distress-call thing, but from whom? "I don't know. But maybe that's where they went. To go find out." For a functional illiterate, that didn't take too long.
Pegasus CIC, where Apollo makes a mistake in the first three seconds: "Commander, Captain Thrace has a theory about our missing Raptors, sir." Garner's all sassy: "That's good, considering she lost them." Starbuck is like, "Excuse me?" I know, right? I thought she wasn't even allowed to know they were gone, Commander Irritating. "Well, they were out on one of your so-called training missions, weren't they, Captain?" Starbuck makes a perfect "See this bullshit? My whole week has been like this" face at Lee: "My 'so-called' training missions." Knowing Starbuck's about to jump Garner, Lee cautions that they should all take it easy. "That's when you're not boozing or sowing mutiny amongst the crew," Garner continues, because when four pilots are on the line, you should totally air out your stupid dirty panties at your leisure. "Don't you think I know what's happening on my own ship? 'Barely competent'? And 'paranoid'?" Starbuck stands down: "That was off the record. I was just venting." She then looks at Lee: "...Accurately." Garner starts all with the "court-martial" and the bullshit, and I love how even Lee is like, "Well, she threw Tigh across a crowded room, so..." He prefaces his support of Starbuck with an explanation that he's not defending Kara's behavior, but doesn't get further than that. "Thanks, Major," she snorts, still hurt, unable to see that he's trying to save her idea by playing Garner and Starbuck off each other. Garner interrupts and sends Starbuck off to quarters with a Marine: "Until I can ship you back to Galactica. You're Adama's pet. Let him deal with you." Oh, Starbuck makes the snake eyes then, and in the script apparently she did an awesome "Gentlemen," as she was leaving (at least, closed caps has that, and I love it, but it isn't necessary), and Garner turns to Lee, back on the grownup train, as the person with the right answer gets hauled away.
Starbuck's doing pushups on two benches in the Pegasus barracks when Lee enters. "You've been onboard less than four days, and you're already facing charges. You don't waste any time, do you?" Starbuck keeps going. "Neither do you, Lee. How's it feel being Garner's new playmate?" Apollo squeals, "I'm here to do a job!" She stands: "Yeah. Keep loudmouth, disobedient frack-up Kara Thrace in line." Apollo's hurt, confused, his jaws clench. "...Not doing such a good job, are ya?" He regains his composure -- she was supposed to be happy! He got to be a Major! They got to work together again! -- and shuts her down: "Evidently not. We don't have much time. Those guys are running out of air." Hands up. "Yeah, well, I tried. All right?" says Starbuck, knowing it's bullshit, and Apollo looks away. "All I have done since I got to the Beast is try and help, and all I've gotten is Garner's foot in my ass," Starbuck spits, and Lee looks up: "Well, maybe you need a kick in the ass!" She's almost relieved: "All right. Here we go. Finally." Starbucks want to fight it out and go back to playing with bugs and guns; Apollos want to hold grudges and feel all wounded and "how come you were so mean that time?"
Starbuck: "What is your problem, anyway?" It's not disingenuous, which I believe coming from her, because Apollo's problem is not her, his problem is everything but her, tied up in a Kara-shaped package with a confusion-colored bow. "What's my problem? What's my problem? Well Kara, my problem is you." Any time somebody talks that shit to you, take off. Free advice: if you're the "worst" or the "meanest" or the "entire problem" or the "entire" anything, the "best" or the "most beautiful" or "the only thing": run like hell, because that's them getting their personal stuff all over you, and you're not a real actual person in the world anymore, at least at that moment, because tyou've become a symbol to them, and there's no talking to people like that. Beware the superlative, dude: Jabberwocky's got nothing on that mother. Apollo: "You keep fracking up, and I keep having to clean it up..." Starbuck's so sad, becoming angrier, at the fiction of this, because in fact, Lee's talking out of his ass and like a child right now that can only remember the last ten minutes. She knows damn well she's a fuck-up, and usually she wants him to stay the hell out of it: "Poor Lee, your life is so hard, isn't it?" Which, call the baby a baby, yeah. "You mean, since I got shot," he returns. FOUL. Silence. Starbuck's devastated -- but the great thing about Apollo is that so is he, like he would like nothing better than to drop the whole act and just apologize right now, but the fight is having them. Starbuck turns to her locker, and Apollo stares, feeling terrible. She turns and considers him, leaning back insolently against the lockers. In the moment that she turned, she saw him starting at the floor, appalled and hurt, and she gets the whole story right then and says, "You wanna hear what I think happened to Buster, or not?" It's the second chapter in the longest mutual apology -- when in doubt, turn yourself into epic poetry -- in the history of the Colonies. Apollo's grateful.
The smashingly debonair Rescue Raptor Pilot Red Devil goes out searching for Buster and Shark and the rest, and picks up some staticky transmissions. "Buster, is that you? Buster, this is Red Devil, man. Is that you, buddy? Come back to me." Possibly Shark comes in clearer: "Power failure...oxygen's almost out...help us. For love of the Gods, help." Trap, clearly.
Apollo alerts Garner, feverish with the exposition of shit we just saw: "One of our search Raptors just picked up a possible distress signal from near where Pegasus lost communications with Buster's ship." Garner's response is telling, because the universe works like a ship engine, and obviously the "machine failure" possibility is the right one, so it was only a matter of time: "Finally!" Lee's not sold. "Possible distress signal. There's a theory that Buster himself might have jumped away to run down a phony distress call. It could be a trap." Garner totally scoffs. "Is this your theory, Major? This is Captain Thrace's theory, is it not?" Meaning, of course, that it is wrong. "Kara does not work like a watch or a ship engine" is a true thing you could say about her. Garner thorntons for a lock on the source of the signal. "Yes, sir, it's long range, over forty S.U. [no idea] away." Garner tells him to prepare for jump, and Apollo comes around the board toward him: "Sir! This isn't just Captain Thrace's theory. I think this is a Cylon trap, and..." Garner disagrees and tells him to -- get this -- "get Admiral Adama on the line. I'm going to get our men." He's wrong-headedly using Adama's logic verbatim against the confusion of Lee/Starbuck's logic, the way Bill used his own illogical response against the Cain/Fisk heartless logic before the Resurrection Ship Battle. Perfect act-out, and intentional callbacks are hot.
Coming back from commercial, I want Adama's first response to be "Well, what does Starbuck think?" I will send Ron Moore $10 in an envelope if this happens. "Admiral," snits Garner, "We finally got the break we've been looking for: bearing on the distress signal. I can jump there inside of two minutes." In other words, "Are you proud? Let me prove what a bad-ass I am on something other than Starbuck, please." Adama: "Commander, believe me, I understand how you feel. But the Cylons have been known to lure ships into traps. Using fake distressed calls. Have you considered that?" Oooooooh. That's even meaner than what I wanted. $20, then. "We have, sir. It's a scenario we don't think likely." Oh, the pronouns. Adama calls it out: "'We.'" Apollo actually sighs, like, "You're actually going to make me do this?" Adama: "Major Adama, do you concur?" Even Garner is like, "Oh, hell." $30! "Sir. Captain Thrace and I are of the opinion that the first two Raptors may very well have been lured away by just such a trick." He's guilty having to do this, but looks into Garner's eyes the whole time, like a man. Garner looks away: "An opinion I do not share, sir." Adama makes the call. "We'll send a recon mission in full force. Five Raptors. Three escort, two rescue. You have your orders, Commander." Garner, disgusted ("If it weren't for those meddling kids!"), thanks Adama, and hangs up: "Thank you, Major. I'm sure your expertise is needed elsewhere." Sickening to have to watch someone do this kind of damage control on the kind of thing he should have earned by now. The door/walls in the Pegasus CIC are awesome. They're rotating glass panels that, when rotated open, combine it with the room door. When they all open at once it's very shiny and beautiful. Apollo assents, and they are both grossed out.
Gaius is hanging out and taking his time in the Galactica morgue, looking into his microscope and dicking Roslin around with this whole "Oh I'm such a busy scientist what's the problem" vibe: "I am curious. Why the sudden interest in the Fleet's demographic projections?" Roslin's clearly hating life down there -- I'm guessing it's been about a month, and then Baltar on top of it? -- and won't meet his eyes: "An issue has emerged that may prove divisive to our administration. I would like all the facts in hand before making my decision." Six appears. It's weird to see these two women onscreen at the same time -- where are you supposed to look? They're both so encoded with this strength and this power; it's creepy to see Six slithering around Roslin, as Roslin looks at the floor. "So, now it's 'our administration'?" Six goads. "She must be desperate." Baltar pushes a key on his terminal and some files start loading. "Well, I'm a very busy man." See? "Luckily, I made an initial calculation on these figures, over seven months ago, when nobody seemed interested or concerned."Not "research grants are rendered worthless right around the apocalypse and I am therefore obsolete," but "I am a misunderstood genius." He concludes: "All I had to do was factor in the numbers from the Pegasus crew. It took me hardly any time at all, and I didn't mind." The ending clause is just as prissy and awesome as you think. He hands Roslin the report and tells her not to bother reading it: "If we continue on our present course, within the eighteen years," Six's hands on his shoulders, "the human race will simply be...extinct." Six looks at Roslin's face with a cruel smile that slowly falls. I had a whole thing about how this may or may not be true, assuming a higher mortality than we've seen so far, offset by the fact that the majority of the survivors are adults, blah blah, but the thing is: it doesn't matter. He just confirmed the Whiteboard -- Roslin's greatest enemy. He's still the smartest person she's ever met, this superstar media celebrity, the vice-president. He just played her. And in context of the federalism issue, I find it's not even really that interesting to worry about. I don't care how vampires wake up knowing kung fu either, you know? With the complaints about the inconsistent availability of water, booze, food, et cetera, it's nice to see focus on a real-world something that has really huge consequences. My eyes are elsewhere.
Roslin gives in, gives a radio address: "Since assuming the presidency, I've made it my mission to maintain the rights and freedoms we so enjoyed prior to the attack." Adama listens in his quarters with a headache and a drink, taking off his glasses. He can hear it in her voice as few of the people listening probably can. "One of these rights has now come into direct conflict with the survival of the species. And I find myself forced to make a very difficult decision." Rya sits behind a privacy screen in the med lab, touching her belly. "The issue is stark. The fact is that if the civilization is to survive, we must, must repopulate this Fleet." Doc Cottle smokes, disgusted, disappointed. "Therefore, I'm issuing an executive order." Adama leans back on his couch. "From this day forward, anyone seeking to interfere with a birth of child, whether it be the mother..." There. She almost loses it precisely there. "Or a medical practitioner..." She clears her throat, bucks up. "Shall be subject to criminal penalty." This last with tears in her eyes, almost inaudible.
Thornton scrambles the Pegasus Vipers as Case explains to the confused Apollo that they're about to jump. Apollo's first response is to shout to Starbuck, "Get down to the hangar deck!" before running off. She's like, "Huh?" And he runs back: "Look. You're the best pilot we've got. So get down there. Find a Viper." If the Commander's fracking up the chain of command, Apollo might as well help the pilots live. What is it about Pegasus jumping directly into suicidal traps? Kara takes off, shouting joyously (and only a little bit snottily), " It's about time you admitted that!"
Apollo heads into CIC for a sitrep. Garner: "This is a rescue mission, Major." On whose authority? "Mine. I'm bringing my pilots home." Lee brings up the trap thing again, "with all due respect," and asks if a recon wouldn't be a better first step. Garner: "My pilots are dying down there, Major! I'm going in, I'm not waiting on recon!" They're already dead if Apollo's right, jackass. "Commander," says Apollo, again in a very forthright, advisory tone -- I love the way he deals with Garner, so much -- "This is in direct violation of the Admiral's orders." Garner, of course, immediately tells him to get lost. Apollo: "Making this an illegal action on your part, sir!" "You are relieved," Garner orders again, his voice rising. They yell at and over each other about how each is mutinous and each will have to be in charge of Pegasus and each will just need to be arrested. A Marine steps up. "Sergeant, the Commander's been properly relieved. Escort him to his quarters," says Apollo. Garner: "This man is not a member of this crew, and you will obey a direct order that you have been given by me, and you will do it now." Lee thinks the Marine will side with him. So do I. The Marine takes out his gun -- happy with none of this -- and asks Lee to accompany him to quarters.
Gaeta registers the Pegasus jump. Adama looks down, and his voice goes like this: "Argh!" Dualla gets worried, because if Lee dies, she'll probably forget to breathe or eat regularly, because she's only an extension of him now.
The Pegasus has arrived in the middle of their stupidity trap, and the dradis interference is apparently no longer a problem. Lucky, that. Garner hoshis for the recovery team, so very proud of himself.
Red Devil nears the two missing Raptors, scanning his spotlights across them. "Pegasus, Red Devil. Our two birds look intact." There's spooky music as Garner awaits the report. You can't really see inside the Vipers yet. "Commander, we're unable to raise the Raptors on wireless." Getting closer, the Raptors can see holes in the windscreens, bloody helmets, dead Buster and dead Shark: "Oh, my gods. Pegasus, both Raptor crews are dead. I repeat. They're all dead." Garner gets all worried as the music goes nuts. A Basestar jumps in on top of them. Thornton: "Sir, three Cylon base ships just jumped into weapons range." The Basestars launch nukes, and two of them detonate on the Pegasus. Act-out on Garner's complete fear and confusion. "I really did out-Tigh Tigh this time," he thinks. "I screwed that pooch right."
There are blasts and explosions all along the body of the Pegasus. In CIC, the beautiful doors I was just admiring shatter, sending glass everywhere. Smoke, explosions, turbulence. The screens flicker on and off in CIC, showing hits across the whole board. We focus on Garner's wristwatch, oh humble machine, and pan up to him, getting thrown down on his arms across the board. "Damage report?" Everywhere, alarms, lights flashing. "Two nuclear detonations in the stern, sir," says Thornton. "FTL drive inoperative, sir," says Hoshi. "We're stuck here, sir," says Thornton. Somewhat less than helpfully.
Vipers launch and Starbuck gives orders: "All right, Showboat. You take red squadron, hit 'em on the right. Catbird, you take green, hit 'em on the left. The rest of you, follow me. We're going straight up the gut."
In the rapidly dissolving chaos of the Pegasus CIC, Apollo suggests that the Marine Sergeant who arrested him might have better stuff to be doing right now. The guy nods and bounces, leaving Apollo checking the screens. Garner's on the phone with fucking Engineering, screaming, "Oh, then the spinner's fine? It's gotta be a sensor. Just pull it. No, no, listen to me. Listen to me. Just pull it, pull it!" That's kind of sad, because he's stuck doing this job he's crap at when he would rather be rocking out at the job he's good at. I wonder if, when we'd met him, it was down there, would we feel differently about this now? I'd be more sympathetic, I think. But. We didn't. So do your job, asshole. There's another nuclear explosion, which Hoshi helpfully points out. "We have structural damage along the topside heat exchanger." Apollo asks Garner how long it will be before the FTL drives are working, and he doesn't know. "They don't seem to understand." Okay, he's dead, because he just went from totally ridiculous to totally sympathetic in like four inches of script. I shan't be crying for him. "I need to go down there." Apollo stares and they think for awhile, and Garner takes off, to contribute what he actually has to contribute, telling Apollo, "You have the con." Thornton and Hoshi watch Apollo slowly figure this out. If you're scared to drive a car, after your car crash, and somebody puts you in charge of an airliner? Fuck that, dude. I haven't had nightmares like that since high school. "Yes, sir. I have the con," he says, mostly to himself. "Make for the nearest base ship. And roll us over to keep our top side out of their line of fire. Hoshi, contact Starbuck in case...uh, tell them I've assumed command. And to concentrate on protecting our top side." Apollo looks around. Everything is different.
Kara wilcos, "We got your back," as, in Galactica CIC, Gaeta and Adama await contact they won't be receiving because of the pulsars. Adama looks up at the ceiling and prays, I think. Well, thinks very hard. And glares.
Garner pushes through the injured and broken in the Pegasus engine room, takes a bright blue-white flashlight from somebody to get to the jump drives.
Hoshi tells us they're heading right for the base ship, and warns against the damage they're sustaining. Apollo thorntons: "Helm. Steady as you go. Have the bow battery stand by for a salvo fire. Target their center axis. See if we can't cut down the odds." To the sound of the garbled wireless, he continues to work it out aloud. "We need those FTLs fixed soon or we're dead." Thornton gives him a distance and tells him the main battery has a firing solution. Close-up on Apollo: "Fire." The basestar takes major damage. Damn. No wonder they call our girl the Bucket.
Inside the crazy FTL area of the engine room, things are very pretty. The blue light Garner's got lights him up like a Christmas tree, and there's a really cool shutter speed happening, and it's very, very beautiful. One crewman explains that the coolant in the FTL room is "off-scale low," and Garner surmises that the "primary inlet" is "choked." The crewman says that the continual drop in pressure means a hull breach, and Garner explains that the only option is to manually open an auxiliary valve. As Garner changes into his own red shirt, the guy explains that doing this is way too dangerous because the room where the breach is will be without oxygen. Garner: "We don't have a choice. Now, open the hatch." The guy does, and he enters, and it is so, so beautiful. "Breathing gear?" Nope, that all got used up in the firefighting. "Give me sledge and a number 12 spanner." While I think it would be cool if he could somehow rig up some kind of scuba gear with a wrench and a hammer, I highly doubt that's how this will end. "Now close this hatch behind me." The guy hesitates, worried, and Garner yells at him:. "We're losing air! Close the Gods-damned hatch. Close it!" The guy -- whose face is covered in an inordinate amount of sticky black stuff -- closes it, and the O2 gauge outside the hatch reads 30, in the yellow.
Pegasus fires at the Basestar, over and over. Hoshi reports that it's turning and running, which is exciting and good, but the other two are now "coming hard," which is less good. Apollo orders them to turn again, and out in her Vipers, which are going nuts on the Basestars, Kara laughs madly at us over her shoulder. My girl's back!
Garner reports on his movements inside the FTL hatch as he does them. He gets to the manifold and turns something so that the room calms down. He finally gets the wheel turned, resulting in...something, flow to the FTL drives, and sees the leak in the wall, which is behind the service relay. O2 is at 20 -- at the edge of red. The guys outside feel just terrible.
Starbuck hoshis that the Vipers are ("skosh"?) out of ammo, and that they need to jump. Apollo holds Garner's watch and looks at it, see, and hopes. Damn watch. So silly and unnecessary.
O2's at 10, full-on in the red, and the crewman's calling for him to return. Garner pushes and pushes on the second wheel, eventually banging on it with the mallet, using the spanner as a lever. It's all very Star Trek, this, the low-tech solution to the high-tech problem with all the scientific yammering. I mean, I'm sure you actually have to do stuff like this on your modern-day aircraft carriers. Probably all the time with the ones that are FTL-endowed. A handy panel with three lights on it keeps flipping back and forth from green to red. "Flow! No flow!" Garner keeps pushing and pushing, and it creaks to green. Somehow, this stops the leak. Maybe that's...okay, I think that the leak is not the breach, but that the lack of coolant flow inside the manifolds is causing the buildup of heat and that's what's leaking. So by manually opening the two pipes up, the coolant is able to get in there, because before the usual manner of doing this was "choked." I assume that anybody else watching understood this immediately, but you know I'm no good at this kind of thing. "Machine. Hit the machine. Good machine or bad machine? Please fix my machine. It can fly!" The crewman outside shouts over and over for Garner to come back out of the place, because I guess they can't reopen the hatch for some reason, and of course, Garner is now dead. You could have said "No" to Adama, dude.
Hoshi reports that FTL is go and Apollo grabs the fucking watch: "Okay, commence jump prep. Bring our birds home." The Vipers all come in on upside down Pegasus on a central platform, so that half of them are landing upside down. It's cool-looking. Starbuck brings up the rear and once again yells over her shoulder at us, albeit this time upside down herself, "Nobody behind me but toasters!" She lands, all crazy with the sparks. "Now get us outta here!"
Hoshi reports that the air wing has come back in and the bay's secure, and Apollo orders the jump. Pegasus vanishes, and the Raiders freak out.
Total change in tone: in Adama's quarters, Bill calmly reads Lee's log of the event: "You give Garner a lot of credit." "Well," says Lee, "it's all true. He gave his life to save the ship." Adama kind of smiles: "Starbuck's report wasn't so kind." Fucking right it wasn't. "Well, she had her perspective," Lee smiles, looking down at the watch. "And I had mine." Maybe Apollo's just like that. Maybe he needs stuff he can hold and think about for the symbolism to sink in. I could buy that. Adama: "In your opinion, off the record...what was Garner's flaw?" Exposition Infection? No, that's Lee: "He was used to working with machines. Command is about people." "Good answer," thinks Bill, and stands. "Remember that. I want you to take command of the Beast." Lee stares up at his father instead of giggling at this particular wording. "Garner was my decision," says Admiral Adama. "His failure's my responsibility." Nice to hear him say that, since I'm still scratching my head. Adama pulls out a Commander's insignia, and says something amazing: "Don't let me fail a second time." I didn't catch the greatness of that the first time through, because the Adama Family Irish Band started up just then, tugging at heartstrings. "Congratulations, Commander." Commander Adama stands and shakes his father's hand. He takes the links and looks into his father's eyes. His are wet with tears. I imagine his father's are, too. Mine certainly aren't, no matter what witnesses may report.
The Adama Song plays out over the cut to Colonial One, where Roslin is looking out the window. Sarah Porter appears and gets her attention: "Madame President? Word has it that you do not intend to prosecute the Geminese girl on Galactica." Roslin stands, sad that this whole game even has to play out, sad that they're all just pawns of higher concerns (and Gaius and Zarek and Six, but she doesn't know that yet): "She has a name, Sarah. I think that Rya has suffered enough." She looks into Sarah's eyes. "She's just been through an abortion. I've granted her asylum aboard Galactica." The entire body of Colonial One goes, "Oh, snap." Tory watches as Sarah gets weird: "This is in total violation of the law." But Roslin shakes her head, thinking she's won: "My order came after she sought her procedure. No laws have been broken." Sarah gets pissed and insists that "the girl" -- no name still for Quorum Rep Sarah Porter -- "belongs at home." Roslin gets very fucking intense on her ass: "You have your pound of flesh. And I suggest you take your victory, and you move on." Well, my translator microbes say she said "pound of flesh," but I'm sure it was just a comparable literary reference from the bustling Caprica body of dramatic works. Tory steps forward and ushers Sarah out: "Ma'am?" She looks back over her shoulder at Roslin, exhausted, taking off her glasses.
In the Galactica pilots' quarters, Lee is packing up his stuff to go take command of Pegasus as Kara watches and chats with him. "You realize you're screwed, right? All the pressure, the responsibility, the sleepless nights, all the officers giving you a hard time." Lee smiles:"Yeah, well, it could be worse. You could be my CAG." Starbuck laughs and stretches against the bunk: "I'm gonna stay here and be Galactica's CAG. Something about wanting to keep an eye on me." I guess we'll never know what their jobs were. At least we know now. I don't even know why I care. Lee laughs and she gives a long-suffering smile: "Well, you and Colonel Tigh have a lot of fun at those early-morning briefings. 'Cause the XO's a lot of fun first thing." Starbuck's like, one hangover to another? He's a cakewalk after the horror of Garner. Lee bumps her chin and cheeks with his giant red boxing gloves; it's very intimate and sweet and normal. Starbuck thinks, sad, and spits it out, looking up into Apollo's eyes: "Congratulations. Really." He looks at her -- mirroring his reaction to Dualla at the beginning, about his first random promotion in this episode -- like, "Stop being a pussy, dude." She stands and sticks out her hand. (She's a Captain? And she always hauls him back, and vice versa? Is that the "Captain's Hand" thing? Or is it the thing about the First Mate sitting at the Captain's right hand? Last week I got so concerned about who was and was not a "Sacrifice" that I ended up going off the deep end with it. This week, the only two Captains are Case and Thrace, and I'm not going there.) (Yet.) Starbuck and Apollo shake and do not let go: "Congratulations."
Apollo looks at Starbuck's face, into it and at it at the same time. "I know why I was mad at you, Kara." Because you wanted to acknowledge audience concerns that she suffers no culpability for her actions? Because I kind of feel you're about to just talk directly at us through the screen for a sec, babe. "A simple 'thank you' would have been sufficient," she laughs, but the Exposition Infection, it is strong. "Because you were doing what you always did," he says, smiling sexily. "Buck authority, and get away with it." Starbuck drops her eyes. "I, too, have felt victimized by my canonical lack of accountability." "I bucked authority once," he continues, "and I almost lost everything." Was this right around the time of your birth? Because you've been wound pretty tight since right around then. No, I'm kidding. He's talking about the sedition and terrorism he perpetrated at the right hand of a dangerous cult leader -- and the things he most immediately lost were Bill and Kara. "Whoa, yeah," she thinks. Lee: "So I guess when I showed up on Pegasus, and there you were doing it all over again..." She looks down again. "I don't know. Pissed me off." He looks deeply, lovingly into her face. "Doesn't make a lot of sense, does it?" Starbuck grins, but not exactly: "You should hear the way my brain works sometimes." One thousand times word, dude. They smile sweetly, almost crying. She stiffens her spine and looks him head-on, nearly pleading to wipe the last bit away. "Are we okay?" But Lee's done, and flips back to her last line. "...You have a brain?" She slaps him with the other hand -- they're still holding onto each other. Always. They embrace. "Yeah. Yeah, we're okay." They drop their hands and hold each other tightly. It's intensely sweet, and relief of a stress I didn't know I was carrying. Lee says the word "Forever" into Kara's hair, and it sounds like a deep laughing breath. You wouldn't notice it unless you were looking for it, and you might decide it didn't really happen, except Kara's face relaxes completely at this, and her body folds into his, back to complete trusting calm and love. Better: tested. Their conflict of not getting each other's back has been resolved, and the only person that died was Garner. Who sucks. The Captain's hand has brought Lee back. And it will never let go.
Oh, the chaos of a Colonial One press conference, intruding suddenly on the engine-hum silence of the last scene. Gaius looks like a million bucks standing useless behind Roslin, who gives a tiny nod to Piconese Press Agent Playa Palacios, née Kohn, last legitimate journalist in the universe, in the din. Playa: "Madame President, your decision to criminalize abortion has created a furor." Roslin nods. "Do you think that's hurt your standing in the polls?" Roslin nods, sadly: "Absolutely." It's hurt her own standing in her own personal polls, man.
Gaius asks Roslin's leave to speak, and steps forward. "It is true, in the light of recent events, the President may have lost support in some quarters. I would ask the people to understand that if this is an extreme decision..." Six appears in the back, overjoyed by her boy. She always did like him on TV. I do, too; it's a totally different, hot, cool guy. "...We live in extreme times. The decision has been made with good faith." He smiles over at Roslin, and takes hold of the Fleet's ovaries with one hand and the concept of the republic with the other. "I, however, cannot with good conscience support it." Tory is shocked, apparently not being familiar with the vicissitudes of Gaius Baltar. "I am so sorry, Madame President." She looks down, sick, and I don't know how much of this is due to getting screwed by him, getting called out by him, or her own guilt about what she's done. I'm mostly pissed because Baltar told her to do it, total reversal of which is the only rule of thumb you can trust. "...But the Cylon have no understanding of the meaning of the word 'freedom.' How could they? They're programmed. Machines." Six is a little sad -- she and Boomer sure do hate that word, don't they? -- but what is 'freedom' to a person whose every action (whether she's imaginary or not, she means a part of Gaius) depends on Fate and the Hand of God? "Every time you take away one of our freedoms, every time you restrict or curtail one of our rights, we become one step closer to being like them." Roslin, beaten, stands for this. Cut to Six, still unhappy, but fascinated in that cruel, beautiful way she has. "As the Vice-President, I am bound to follow the administration's lead." It's possible that Roslin is right now more pissed than she has ever, ever been. It's so very scary. "I will airlock all of your asses, go down to the mess, airlock a bunch of motherfuckers down there, and then I will take a shuttle to Cloud 9, down several shots of whisky, and commence airlocking." Where do you go when you can't get out? I'm glad there's not a door for her to beat her head against, is all I'm saying. "As President, [however]...I should have no such strictures. Given the current situation, I'm afraid that I have no alternative but to announce that I am, as of now, a candidate for the presidency." Focus pulls to...Tory, who looks to Roslin. They vibe back and forth with immediate WTF, crackling like electricity, and Roslin cocks her head toward the door. She rolls her eyes a little bit -- I can identify so much more with funny rage than yelly rage -- and they bounce.
The reporters all go nuts as Roslin and her staff, forgotten, walk quickly out of the press room. "Are you resigning the vice-presidency? Are you a one-issue candidate? Are you being disloyal to the President?" The crowd sound disappears. Gaius looks over all their heads at Six, who is all lit up. Inside and out. She slowly, slowly claps her hands for him, over and over again, as the crowd sound retreats altogether, their bustle gone slow-motion. Clap, for the death of the republic. Clap, for the precedent of Geminon. Clap, for religion and politics all mashed up. Clap, for the 43rd person in the line of succession putting a fundamentally religious issue at odds such that it is removed from the constitution itself. Clap, for manipulation of entire people's political identity for personal ambition. Clap, for the slow erosion of supposedly inalienable rights in order to win an election. Clap, for God and God's plan, in the hands of an atheist scientist who still somehow believes he's God favorite, special friend. Clap: The only time I ever met George Sr. and Barbara Bush was at the opening of a Planned Parenthood in Midland, Texas. Clap: True story. Clap for platforms over personal ethic. Clap, for getting the President to turn her face away from her truth in order to support an alien agenda. Clap, for the curious interplay of "temporary religious values" for primarily a gain in power. Clap, for the death of the Federalists, the first steps toward tyranny, clap for reinforcing parental ownership of their children as chattel, clap for back-alley outlaw abortions, clap for the time Roslin says she won't negotiate with terrorists, and how that really means "Only lobbyists need apply." Clap, and clap, and cut to black. And one more clap in the darkness.
week: a Boomer awakens on Caprica, freaking out about her traitoration. She screams at D'Anna, disgusted by her true nature. D'Anna thinks this is HILARIOUS. D'Anna is the best. This might be the one, for me: Cylons! Boomer! D'Anna! Excelsior!