Gaius, scraping and titrating and microscoping. Tigh stares down at Sam. "A closed system lacks the ability to renew itself knowledge alone is a poor primer..." The Six and Eight admit that surges have been Sam all along: he's hooked himself into her bones, spreading through the goo and into the hull circuitry. Every system but the computers, as usual. But Tigh quickly realizes that, given the FTL upgrades, he could jump them all at any time, just like the Rebel Hybrid. "End of line. Begin reintegration of command subroutines ... there's a hole in the bucket dear Liza dear Liza there's a hole in the bucket the long view returns patterns and repetitions all has happened before and will happen again..." The Eight finally unplugs him, after sufficient growling from Tigh.

Sonja and Ellen report the recon's findings to Bill: John Cavil moved the Colony about five months ago, just before the civil war. Bill asks if there's anything they can do, and Sonja darts a quick look at Ellen before they both must admit it's over. Bill excuses himself and takes off, immediately. Nobody's getting any toothpaste today.

Boomer begins to enjoy sharing the house with Hera, explaining projection to her. This almost-daughter from the wrong father. She bites her lip, but goes through with it: "Do you want to see a special room? A room where I thought my daughter would live?" She keeps trying to put it back together and it keeps falling apart. Hera's breathing hard again, but once they get to Dionne's wonderful room she's happy. Boomer's heart breaks as she watches Hera jumping on the bed, plowing down on the cupcake. Breaks and reknits itself again, as hearts do. It's not home, and it never was. But Hera's neither could-have-been nor never-was: she's the shape of things rapidly approaching.

Helo chases Bill down the hallway at exactly the wrong time; he's still trying to process Hera's death and Helo's bouncing around like a rubber ball. He tries to blow Helo off, afraid to hurt one more of his children today, by saying he's en route to the funeral. Helo's voice breaks in the first measure as he sings out his well-rehearsed request for a Raptor, so that he and Athena can go find Hera. They can go out, it's written on his face, and fly where they need to fly, and find their family, their home, again. Bill sadly admits they already sent it out, and it did nothing. Helo nods jerkily, sleepless and jittering, and asks again, just in case.