She leans back against the rock, hands up in supplication. The water pours down. She holds her head in the shower of the blast, holding her arms straight out, letting everything go. Steady as it goes. Only here. Not in the house, with the boxes and the bottles of champagne. Not where you can still smell them, where you're surrounded by pictures of them. Only here, between the rock and the water. Day breaking. The rush of rain, like tears. She can weep.
The showers become an IV drip; Laura's unconscious for now. Resting peacefully. Cottle and Ishay go on about their day, adjusting her while she sleeps. As though the world isn't ending.
Lee administrates the breakdown, the razing of Galactica, all the requests for her parts and for her heart. Bill Adama is retiring his Battlestar. They're taking her away from him. Steady as it comes. Dealino distracts him a moment: they want to strip the launch tubes of their magnetic accelerators. They have a civilian use, Lee explains to him, but that's not the point: "A Battlestar's whole purpose is to launch Vipers..." Lee nods, seeing him for the first time. "I kind of know how you feel. Part of my heart's here too. Tell you what, make the accelerators the last thing your men take out. Then turn out the lights and let the old girl die in peace." He looks Dealino in the eye, like a good president. Dealino thanks him and leaves; Lee nearly cries.
Bill seals the boxes one by one, labeling them for delivery to his new quarters on the Rebel Basestar. Boxing everything, at the end of line. Lee, younger and as a man. His sons as children. He grits his teeth; she groans around him.
(Adama: "Is this my ten minutes or is this yours?"
Tigh: "Yours. I took ten last time."
Dualla: "...I believe it was your ten minutes, sir."
Tigh: "The old man's so tired he can't remember, then it's his turn.")
Gaius lights a cigarette, walking with Paulla through the ship: after this latest catastrophe, and the funerals, their movement is even more popular. "Everyone else's numbers are down, which gives us solid majorities on over half the civilian ships in the Fleet," she says. The cold equations, where faith meets power. "I mean, no one else comes even close to having that kind of political power. Our time is here, Gaius." Chip Six appears, back in red, and nods. "She's right, Gaius. The end times are approaching. Humanity's final chapter's about to be written, and you... You will be its author." He stares. He's gone, somewhere else. That house, under a blue sky. That wonderful house.