He was a revolutionary, too. FTL goes offline, and Zarek begins barking orders. For Felix, it's like a sign from the Gods. A last-minute reprieve from irreparable damage to the whole of humanity. Zarek screams, and screams -- "Gaeta, launch your birds. Gaeta, wake up. What the frak are you doing? Launch your birds! Gaeta, Gaeta! We have to defend, do you understand that? Do you understand? Gaeta, we need to defend!" Tim stops. Like Laura in the jump, like Gaius and Saul in the exquisite moment of their breakdowns. "One day soon, there's gonna be a reckoning." Hours ago, Bill said it. Days ago, he said it to Starbuck. It feels like years. The gun batteries fix on the Basestar, and still he doesn't move. Zarek screams. "Gaeta, what the frak is wrong with you? Wake up!" That's what he's doing.
That's what he's done. "Weapons hold!" he shouts, alive again, staring into Tom's eyes. Zarek realizes it's over: another wall has fallen down. The fight is over. The revolution is dying. The story's ended. Adama and his posse enter CIC, and they take it easily. Felix doesn't fight; Tom makes that put-upon face he makes, but is calm; Gage shoves and pulls at his captors. "Connect me with the President," the Admiral orders someone, and she obliges as quickly as she can. "Madam President, this is the Admiral. Stand down." She stares, unable to swallow, to process, to believe. She knew he was alive. She knew he was dead. "I repeat, Galactica's secured." The Eight's hand flies to her mouth. "Stand down." Laura says his name, softly, like a prayer. Bill stares at Felix, in brutal disappointment; Felix begs for more. This was nothing. Bill nods at Kelly, and he marches Felix Gaeta away. 1532.
Galen stares up at the bulkhead, sickened, deep in the jump engine room: Time has clawed at her skin. She groans under the weight of it. Laura comes down a ladder, landing heavily; when she turns, he's there. She gasps and takes off her glasses, losing it, and he walks slowly toward her. She can finally weep. The longest day since the first day: She punches his shoulder for almost dying; she caresses his wonderful face, pats him on the shoulder hilariously. He takes her in his arms and walks her slowly away:
There is certainly no rest for us on the earth. But there is happiness, and as Margaret descended the mound on her lover's arm she felt that she was having her share.