Kara sits in the Temple of Five, and the Great Hall, and in Heaven, and between five stars, burning off what doesn't work. Beautiful. He never said he was Leoben, but Leoben's always been just another word for fate anyway. Just another messenger, just another way for her to let that fate in. Kara sits in blessed enjambment, in the sanctified unfolding, her life stretched out behind her, all one story, with a beginning and a middle and so many endings, and no endings at all.
Kara Thrace had hair, which she cut whenever things got too heavy to carry. Kara Thrace had hands, which they took away during the nova and which they keep taking away. Kara Thrace had wings, for which she gave everything, to make her mother happy, to reach a destiny that everybody knew was coming. Kara Thrace had breasts, and legs, and funny little feet, and a sexy voice, and a ready smile, and a lovely mouth. Kara Thrace had eyes that could always see the weak places, and a tactical mind, and a quick wit, and a burning fire inside that kept her moving forward faster than anybody could keep up. She faced things. She opened doors with her hands, and when that didn't work she used her feet. We were safer with her than we are without. She fought until she couldn't. She fought until she didn't have to.
Starbuck's Viper explodes, in the pressure, just as Lee sees her Raider for the first time. He screams. And Starbuck's hair, and hands, and wings, and breasts, and legs, and feet, and voice, and smile and mouth, and those eyes, and that brain, are gone faster than the time it takes for them to burn. She's taken apart in the unfolding. Starbuck is gone, shouting at the light, raging as fast as she can forward, into the arms of those heroes that went before: Ellen Tigh, D'Anna Biers, Crashdown, Kat. Socrata Thrace throws her arms and wings around that Kore child, her daughter Kara, all those broken girls made whole, and they finally know peace. In Heaven they have so many cigarettes it's ridiculous, and they're duty-free, and every week is shirtless-Helo week, and that's all I know about Heaven. And Kara can wake up in the morning and not dread what happens next, and the rips in her heart are healed over, and you can barely see the scar. She'll never have to hurt anybody again, because she's got no pain in her: it's all burned off. I love her and I already miss her, but I'm not going to begrudge her that kind of grace, or that glory. Eternal Kara Thrace, dancing in the abyss and storm, forever. Strong, and smart, and wise, and powerful. Just as in life.
Adama shouts at his son to abort and Lee cranks his ship away from the accident. "Lee, do you have her in sight? Can you see her?" He doesn't answer for a bit; Helo and Dee stare at nothing, waiting for the response. Gaeta and Tigh look to the Admiral.