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.
"She's gone. I've lost a son, and you've lost a daughter. But I can't condone a suicide mission. So let it go." Tears well up as he steps away; Helo sniffs and jumps into anger, grabbing him: "You want me to let it go? You're the one who can't let go. Painting over the holes in this bucket? This ship is dead! But my daughter might still be alive..." Billl never liked it when they called her the Bucket, dear Liza; he likes it even less now. "I understand your pain, Captain, but don't lecture me. You're here to take orders. Do you understand?" He's watched Laura do this a million times, play the bad guy and shut it down; he used to be a soldier and it came naturally. Now it just seems sad for everybody. Helo's grossed out by himself for about three seconds, back on military time, and apologizes... Then he's right back to begging. It's the worst thing I've ever seen. He pleads for the suicide mission, for any chance to do anything. Bill can't speak. Helo's never looked so young, that's the worst part: the Admiral squeezes his shoulder and walks away, and Helo deflates like a balloon, looking younger than he ever has.