Gaius, Caprica, and Three run around grab-assing and looking for each other and the baby, who you can hear crying. Three, ripping up I think Selloi's tent at one point, grumpy-grunts, "Fracking liar," which is hilarious. Finally, Gaius finds Maya on the ground, dead, with Hera in her arms. Chip Six kneels, having suddenly appeared for a moment: "It's her, Gaius. The first of God's new generation." Caprica arrives, so of course Six disappears, and Caprica's a good deal more secular -- besides leaving out the Crazy Six Baby Math -- only wondering at the miracle that Hera has been spared once again by God. Three approaches and asks to hold the baby; like a person not in charge of himself, or gripped by the power of this moment, hands her off to the Pharaoh's Daughter. She walks away with the child in her arms, and Gaius pulls out a gun, pointing at the back of her head. Caprica touches his arm. "No. She's not going to set off the nuke, not anymore. Come on, Gaius. We have to go." Man, that is one fucked-up family. Picture Gaius Baltar, Caprica, Three, and Chip Six, raising a baby, on a Cylon basestar. Where people apparently run around naked all the time. This is going to be the best season ever.
Tory Foster, Jammer, and Laura Roslin board the abandoned Colonial One. Laura seats herself at her desk -- I wonder if Gaius kept the Olympic Carrier note? I wanna say he did, if only because he wouldn't care -- and removes her diary from its wrappings, the biggest Olympic Carrier note of all, placing it squarely on the desk before her. "All right," she says, quietly at first. "I'm ready to go," she smiles. And Colonial One takes off. Did she just... elect herself President again? That is SO AWESOME. I love how her choices just get worse and worse, but you still have to admit she's better than anybody else at being President, and it's mostly because she does adorable shit like that. "I'd like to be President right now, okay? I'm not saying I'm necessarily going to airlock you, but I do have a certain persuasive regal air." I bet she got KILLER customer service back when malls still existed. Which is 99 percent of politics anyway.
Oh, hey -- this part's fucking awful, just so you know going in. I don't even want to talk about it yet so I'm going to make some lists instead. The first list goes like this: Saul Tigh. Kara Thrace. Felix Gaeta. The second list goes like this: Poison. Knife. Gun. And the last one goes: Ellen Tigh. Leoben Conoy. Gaius Baltar. The last list is of the people that took the thing that mattered most, and because of love, destroyed your heart. The people that you built your world around, because of love or because you had no other choice. The middle list is what you did next, because you couldn't get out. And the first list is the people that have to go on, now. The ones that "survived."