Ever tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is like, after the candle is blown out? It's like this: just one star, burning, like a storm, from an angle you couldn't ever see before. Like her eyes, looking at you with more love. Fixed, but not unbroken. Her Viper's so clean, so fresh. Her grin is full of love and wisdom, just as in life. Never innocent, never guilty: The dawn, breaking. Again.
Every love story is, first and foremost, a mystery. That means riddles. So first the princes, the wind and the wildcat, like a sound across the water: as the song plays us out, before the credits shine with a gift from them to us, KATEE SACKHOFF as STARBUCK, so GET OFF OUR ASSES, we're treated to a vision of our own. Back, back away from the two Vipers, flying in tandem, as they always have, even when the angle showed they weren't. Up into the sky, out of the Nebula, away from the Fleet, back through four Basestars and a Battlestar, away from that old anvil war ("Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"), and back, and back, and then -- after just a moment to breathe, after so much beauty, after all we've been through -- straight forward, faster than Kara, watching galaxies and then solar systems and then planets and then her: most beautiful, the endpoint, the glory of Earth. And all along the watchtower, she's just the view we have to keep. Like Bill, and like Roslin, before him. The nature of obsession is life, untwisting: All those wrong turns, suddenly wrenching straight; all those mistakes not mistakes, but just the way things had to go.
But then! Then the conversation, the litany of questions, answered before he can start. He says her name. "Don't freak out," she laughs. "It really is me." He speaks softly, afraid to say the name, afraid to break the spell. "It's gonna be okay," she says, like the dawn waking you softly. "I've been to Earth. I know where it is. And I'm gonna take us there."
I believed. Admit that you did, too. I'll see you next year, and I'll miss you 'til then. Thank you for everything. Boom boom boom and all that. But first, the angels, knowing this is just a joke, knowing they've been through it -- that they're going through it now. Knowing "fate" is just bad weak logos, unequal to the task, just a bad angle on the way it happens. On it happening, now. Knowing it's going to be okay, whatever else happens.