"They have a lot of work in the next couple of weeks. I need you to get some sleep. Get rested and get ready, all right?" Tigh tells him he's fine, and screams back into CIC: "And you can tell that toaster-lover over there that I am still the XO of this ship!" Adama realizes it's not getting better without coffee and a shower, and lays hands on his friend. "Let's go." Tigh struggles, and Bill's finally like, "You're embarrassing yourself, Saul." That's the Tigh I'm used to! "You're the one that should be embarrassed. Letting one of Baltar's henchman walk around like nothing's happened... " Adama officially orders him to go sleep it off, and Tigh gets poetic again: "Oh, yeah. Just go to sleep. Forget about it all, just forget about everything. Well, I'm not forgetting. I'm not gonna forget." Tigh slumps off for another drink or something, and Gaeta is very damned sad. (I kind of feel like, collaborator or not, Gaeta's still got some moral cred for the time he stopped Tigh from stealing the election, you know? Although that went not so well.)
The Circle. "The charges are carrying arms for the enemy in a time of war, shooting three civilians, and collaboration with the enemy. I call the vote." They vote unanimously to murder her: a lady named Chadwick, currently aboard the Monarch. Barclay tells them she'll take care of it with her people there. Anders asks if anybody has a cigarette -- because when you've spent a year soaking up rads in a nuclear strike zone, what you should do is throw the finger at cancer -- and Chief asks how many more they've got to get through. Fifty-seven, Barclay confirms. Fifty-seven secret trials, and only three days to get them done. "We all knew there was a clock when we signed on," says Tigh roughly, which means there's something not connecting here. There's official sanction from somewhere, with three days to work with...God-DAMN it, Tom Zarek. You moron! This is worse than the black market! "Most of these fracks are so guilty they stink," spits Connor. "I could get through 50 of these things in an hour." Um, cool? Tigh slams his head into the table, drawing very fine, very specific lines around the morality of this. "You think we're a bunch of thugs [yes] handing out punishment on a whim [totally]? Jammer didn't get airlocked because you thought he was guilty [actually he was, or else you'd be doing this in public]. There was evidence. He was tried and convicted by this Circle [and not a government body]. This is about justice. You got that? Justice!" Nope, nope, nope. This is vigilantism. Which doesn't really bother me, but it goes back to the robot rape debate, which is: why are you doing it? Are you doing it to preserve the safety of the Fleet somehow? To punish your enemies? Or are you doing it because somebody else entirely took your eyeball, your wife, your loved ones? Revenge isn't justice no matter how many times you say it. I like Tigh, but this time he's wrong. There are systems in place. There is a government and elected body of officials, there are courts and courts martial. This is personal, and that's guns in the Temple. Connor, shaken, is like, okay, dude. Tigh apologizes, saying he likes Connor and Connor's a good guy, and then calls the next case. Seelix: "Felix Gaeta. Charges are collaborating with the enemy and crimes against humanity." Chief's face gets worried; everybody stares at everybody else.