Lee, dressed on the Pegasus CIC, whines about what the hell. Adama, clearly in no mood for this over the phone, yells at him that if they can't do this simple shit in training, how are they supposed to do it for real? Lee hasn't gotten an answer, because his skill is whining, not getting it done. One of the Vipers wigs out technologically in space and she interrupts their pointless awful fight, and Helo finally brings them in. Adama throws more things and is even more terrifyingly angry; on Pegasus, Dualla shakes her head. (Oh, I love Dualla again. Thanks for that.)
Lee chases Bill into his office bitching at full strength and actually making sense: "Two ships at half strength, crews that haven't seen action in a year and a half, and you're acting like the problem is that they aren't working hard enough?" Well, it kinda is. Adama is not having this: "Have you taken a look at yourself lately? You're weak. Soft. Mentally and physically." Lee protests that this isn't about him, but Dad disagrees: "You've had four months to get your act together, and so far all you've been able to do is whine about how hard it is." Two things here: first of all, have you met your son? He's dumb and cute and bitches constantly. But second of all: I am so happy to see them fighting about something that matters and not their family bullshit. Not that I had a problem with the family bullshit, but it's a funny kind of respect for the character to have him offering the valid other side, and turns their usual estranged bitching and pushmi-pullyu love-hate stuff onto solid and equal ground, and I like that. "It's going to get a lot harder. Turn around and get your fat ass out of here. Get your men ready or I'll find someone who can. Dismissed." Lee's pride is taking some hits. He stares at his dad and then leaves.
Tigh and Chief watch Sam Anders play Pyramid with Duck; both pairs are thus having secret insurgent conversations in broad daylight. Not even sports are free of war now. Chief worries, hard, that this new deterrent action they're planning is where they cross the line. Anders, on the field, tells Duck he can't back out once they start. "It's wrong, Colonel," says the Chief, but Tigh disagrees, saying they've sent soldiers on one-way missions before, and that it's the best change to take out Baltar. What the frack are they talking about? How bad does this get? Duck tells Anders no worries: "Ever since they killed Nora I got nothing to live for." Suicide bombing is so gross. This is gross. This is guns in the Temple all over again. If you forget what you're fighting for then you are fighting for nothing and you already lost. That's like killing somebody for stealing an empty box. It makes no sense. And yet, when Tigh is talking, I totally agree with him. What that means is that I am cult-susceptible, apparently have no regard for human life, and that I am wishy-washy on matters of grave importance. Either that, or these are questions with no answers. It was easier when they were just raping Boomer and you could merrily push them out an airlock and feel good about it. Well, not easier, but you know what I mean. Questions that had answers. Now? No. Duck shoves Anders to the ground, makes his goal, and then picks him up again. I guess Anders's health is better, considering he's back to being a total bad-ass. "Look me in the eye and tell me you're committed to this," says Anders, and the camera whirls around them as he does; Anders crushes Duck in his huge arms and prays for him. "Some things you just don't do, Colonel. Not even in war," says Chief determinedly. Tigh shoves himself to his feet: "Maybe you'll feel different when it's you in detention. Duck volunteered. He's going." A crane shot pulls back; Tigh walks stiffly with his crutch through the game, which continues on around him.