Boomer stands up tall. "You should know that your Raptor's been destroyed. You can't go back that way." Athena hand Hera to her husband, and sneers a little. "Yeah, well, that's not the plan." Kara suggests that they not tell Boomer the plan, and Athena realizes how alone Boomer is. She's the only girl in the world. Athena aims her gun, and Boomer nods again. Her back is straight, as Athena fires.
"Missed the trap seven times in two days. It's a new galactic record," Tigh giggles meanly, and looks at Adama. "Regs say that you've washed out, Rook." They're both drinking; they enjoy this the way Starbuck used to, letting Kat and the Nuggets twist. It is harsh and it is ugly, but it's fair. "Time to look for a new career," Tigh says, and takes another drink.
"What do you want me to do, sir? Do you want me to beg for my billet? Do you want me to crawl?" Adama snorts. "I want you to land your frakking bird without digging holes into my deck. How's that, huh? How about being a pilot?" She stares at the wall. "An officer, worthy of the uniform. Take your job seriously. Don't let your personal life get in the way." She almost looks at him, surprised he knows. He doesn't.
"I've read your jacket. Your whole story. I know that your family's gone, and I know that you have no home." Tears spring up in her eyes, for her family and life on Troy. They are a fiction.
"All you got is the service, and it's slowly slipping away." Tigh loves it. "All because you're all wrapped up in survivor's guilt. You're trying to find a way to wash yourself out." Oh, she's trying to fail, all right. And she's guilty, but not like he thinks. Months, years from now, in the moment of her greatest joy and triumph, she'll pull out a gun and put two in his chest while the bridge looks on.
"The doctor's in," Tigh says, pointing at him. "Check your neuroses at the door!" She doesn't crack, doesn't move. An officer worthy of the uniform. "Lot of people have died on this ship. There's a lot of ghosts running around here. You don't want to pull them into your cockpit with you. Because you won't come back alive, do you understand that?" She says she does, but he laughs patronizingly, and tells her one day she might. "As for now..." he is arch, with caring so far back in the eyes you can barely see it. "...Make the trap tomorrow, rook. Dismissed."
And just like that, he hauls her back from nothingness. She breathes, for the first time. "Thank you, sir. I owe you one." The old man laughs. Her and lots of others; he's given them all a million chances to hurt him, to break his heart and disappoint him. "But you know what? Very few people ever pay back. Especially the ones that owe you their lives." Tigh laughs, lovingly, but she swears she will. "One day, sir. When it really means something." The old man pretends to take her seriously, for a moment. "You do that."