Caprica smiles down at Sharon sweetly: "Well, it's over now. The important thing is that you're here." Before she can start planning their spa weekend and whatever, girl's night on the Pimp Bed with snacks and hair-braiding and pirated copies of SINchronicity, for the cryin', Sharon asks after Hera. Caprica doesn't even think about whether to be honest: "She's getting worse." Sharon wants to see her, and Caprica's smile slowly fades: "And then what?" Then you teach me the lesson that anybody I trust will eventually turn on me? Again? If Eight was built to love and be loved in return, then Six was built just to be loved; Caprica is learning what happens when they don't. Like Boomer, like you and me. Over and over, Six learns, in the most horrible ways. Function isn't personality, it's neurosis; waking up is painful. And then what? Six is predicated upon a strong and clear purpose: whatever it is, DEMAND LOVE or DEMAND PEACE or God's will or Colonial rape farms or New Caprica, it's the Sixes that fight hardest for the plan. Take the plan away and she falls apart. And then what? It's the Sixes that play midwife, over and over again. And then what? Sharon closes her eyes and swallows the grossness: "What they did to me. Stealing my baby, and telling me she was dead. Proved it. Hera's safer here." Caprica smiles through her tears of relief. "And so am I," Sharon lies. And Caprica's smile is clear again. Oh, girl, take care of yourself. Sharon's the apple. Again.
Apollo tells the guerillas and the Marines and Sam the plan for protecting the Temple: Starbuck reported the Centurion party Three sent down in advance, coming toward the Temple and the basecamp down a canyon, making a chokepoint they can use for an ambush. "Our mission is to hold the Temple here. If we fail, we blow it up, we fall back to these rendezvous points, and then we head into the mountains and we wait for rescue." Everybody nods. Sam notes it's as good a place to die as any. I see what Kara sees in him.
Dualla and Fischer discuss the totally exposed, scary clear area between them and Starbuck's Raptor. Fischer -- and I don't know if this is an intentional echo of Sam above or just a sloppy edit -- calls it "a nice day for a walk." They rise, and gunfire immediately rings out; Fischer drops and one arm is thrown across Dualla's ass. Without looking, she hisses, "Hey, take it easy, Fischer," then realizes he's gone. ... "Sarge? Sarge?" She rolls him over; his face is fried. Like he looked at the sun. She stands up, gunshots ringing out, and runs down the side of the canyon, under heavy fire, like a total motherfracking badass on a hike through the valley of death. I â¥ Dualla.