We pick up right where we left off last night, with Adama grieving on the bridge over the presumed loss of his sniveling, snotty, dad-hating son. You know, because characters who appear to die with ten seconds left in Part One never, ever turn up magically alive somewhere in the middle of Part Two. The bridge crew, however, can hardly contain their glee.
Down on the Lido Deck, Master Chief Lovewrench is greeting Starbuck as she returns to the Galactica. Her Viper is in pretty bad shape, with a large chunk torn out of the tail. Starbuck, herself, however, is in even worse shape. She looks like a heroin addict who just spent the last three months doing nothing but drinking French-fry grease and sleeping in a sauna. That's probably supposed to show the strain of piloting a Viper in combat or something, but damn. Girl looks like she was rode hard and put away wet. Speaking of which, she's soon bitching to Lovewrench about her bad "gimbal." Bamp gimba bamp bamp! Rather than rip off her clothes off and beg her to torque his lovewrench, Lovewrench instead informs Starbuck that eighty-five people died in the landing pod fire fiasco. He also tells her that Apollo is dead, which just goes to show that everyone on this show is stupid. In the pretty much the only display of actual humanity her character is allowed to have over the entire four-hour run of this mini-series, Starbuck tenderly asks if Lovewrench has heard from Boomer. He hasn't. Corporal Dirty Girl, who is also obviously in on the office romance gossip pool, tries to comfort her boss a bit after this revelation, but he's not having it. He's also not Private First Class Now Officially Dead Guy, so Corporal Dirty Girl quickly abandons the effort and returns to her dirty, dirty duties.
Elsewhere in outer space, Boomer is deploying a homing beacon and chatting up Boxey, who's made himself at home in the front of the ship. Boxey reports that most of his family was on Caprica, so presumably they're dead now. Unless they were with him in last night's lottery mob, in which case they're probably still sitting around in that field playing mushroom cloud bingo without a care in the world. Papa Boxey, however, is serving somewhere with the Fleet. "They told me he's missing," Boxey explains, "but I think he's dead, too." For those of you who don't remember, Boxey's dad was Grand Moff Snarkin, who got blown up in the opening scene. Which makes me kind of sad for Boxey, because now he's stuck with that lame-ass seventies shout-out bowl cut, and he's got nothing but a life of alopecia and male pattern baldness ahead of him. I wonder if they sell octagonal tubes of Rogaine in the future?