Cavill explains in no uncertain terms that he's been a priest forever, and that the point of the Gods isn't to answer prayers, because they set it up that way so that we'd have to figure it out for ourselves: "Find our own answers, our own way out of the wilderness, without a nice little sunny path all laid out in front of us in advance." I do have to say that the Cylon God seems a lot nicer when you put it that way, which you can't often say. Cylon God told you the street address and how to get there. "That's what I'm trying to do!" Chief insists. "I'm trying to find my way." Cavill busts another backflip: "Well, it's not going to get better until you see what the problem is. And the problem is, you're screwed up, heart and mind. You. Not the...not the Gods or fate or the universe. You." Tyrol says, "Thanks for the pep talk," kind of mind-blown, but he's in. How could you not be?
In Apollo's quarters on Pegasus, he's totally eating noodles! Nice. The pasta of the fathers will be visited upon their sons, once they get their shit together. Starbuck enters and they act all playground. She's all dressed up and ready to go, she's just so itchy and prepared and gung-ho, it's awesome. This is her last thing. You knew it would be, heading into the fire: take that last hit off the concept of being whole, just in case she dies in a hail of bullets. Apollo: "Um...I just wanted to say, um...uh...good hunting." She thanks him, and there's a wonderfully Apollo moment: "Yeah, it's a good plan. It's a good plan. Sharon should be able to jump you into the atmosphere a couple of clicks above the surface." And Starbuck smiles, because that's just so Apollo. "...Down below the Cylon dradis. I know the plan, Lee. I wrote it." He smiles and looks down. She and Bill should have taught a Commander Orientation seminar to the Pegasus crew: "Yeah, he doesn't actually think you're a subliterate moron, he just thinks in specs." "I gotta go," she says, and Apollo takes a moment: "I hope you find him, Kara. I really do." His smile is heartbreaking: beautiful, loving, resigned, supportive. And since it's them, Starbuck's way too adrenalized to pick up on half of the eighteen things he just said, with his mouth and face. "So do I," she says. And gets it. Apollo watches her go. It's rough. How many times, how many ways, can you say goodbye? Without feeling like a total D.Q.? Starbuck and Apollo will one day figure that out and then we'll all know once and for all. They are nothing if not dedicated researchers of the finer points of that. Like how, one day, the owl won't stop counting and just crunch down, and he'll have done us a great service on that day. And then the metaphor goes to a weird place where the Tootsie-Roll center of their relationship is gooey and gets stuck in your teeth. But you know. That works too, really.