Battlestar Galactica
Crossroads, Part II

Episode Report Card
Jacob Clifton: C- | 3 USERS: A+
YOU GRADE IT
Breakaway Song

Waiting for Romo's shuttle, Lee asks him if he knew what would happen, on the stand. Of course he did. "I knew you were an honest man, Mr. Adama. Much unlike your grandfather." Kinda Babylon 5, kinda Deep Space Nine, that, but then Romo walks away, strong on his pins; Lee looks down at the useless, abandoned crutch. Dude is good.

Roslin looks like she's about to puke up actual chemo all over Bill: "Gaius Baltar is innocent. Just the sound of that makes my skin crawl." He tries to wiggle: "Not Guilty is not the same as Innocent." But it's not opposed, either: innocence is the opposite of experience. (Are you experienced?) The opposite of Not Guilty is Not Guilty: it's what they all are. It's what you are. It's what I am. Scapegoats most of all. "It must've been particularly difficult for you," she says, still resisting. Don't ask the question and you won't have to hear the answer: "What, you just...couldn't get the other two guys to budge?" He's quiet; she already knows. "...You voted for his acquittal, didn't you?" Bill's libido is like "FUCKING A, DUDE." Bill nods. "Hate to say it. Defense made their case. The prosecution didn't." She touches him but without touching. Gaius Baltar is a traitor. They both know that, regardless of the outcome of this trial. "No one's asking anyone to forget. Or to forgive. But we have to look to the future." To the system that can't be remade and can't stay in place; to the place Lee wove for them, from all the truth in the Fleet: Dee, and Lampkin, and Gaius, and Laura. Bill, and Tigh, and most of all Kara. Fixed isn't the same as unbroken. It's what we all are. Laura leaves, to feel sick and rageful, to heal, to knit herself back together, to do the numbers on a Laura/Lee ticket for the next election. Should she live that long. In the space left by her exit, Adama orders Gaeta to jump to the Ionian Nebula.

In a Galactica corridor, there's a small man, long dark Jesus hair, beard, with a box of things, rushing to a place he doesn't know about, on a road he doesn't recognize. Pen, "papers." Dreams, words, wishes, plans. Plans for breaking and remaking a system in his own image. A system that didn't need breaking; just healing. He came back from the fairies with his hands empty: this is a life. Gaius in a box, with nowhere to stand. The people push by him: some of them, pilots and Marines, shove past, but he doesn't mind that so much. It's the ones that don't notice him at all: those are the ones that hurt.

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Battlestar Galactica

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