Hoshi explains, as they walk, about the ship's network systems: with the right passcode, you can control just about any part of the ship from any other. When the systems are online, you could operate the whole ship from any point, see. Like a magic spell, or a true name: all you need is the passcode, and you could make the weapons grid ignore everyone's commands, say, or open your doors to the wolves outside, or within. Kendra cracks that this is fine as long as nobody hits the wrong button, and Hoshi isn't even amused: "Yeah, not on Cain's ship." Point taken. Kendra begins to notice the ways that Cain puts the fear of the Gods into her men, but barely finishes the thought before the Gods strike. The corridor goes sideways, and she sleeps for a moment; on waking, she delicately plucks Hoshi's hand from her wrist, where he grabbed at her, to save her, before being knocked unconscious himself. It's a tiny moment, a little note, but I like it. As the world ended, the Pegasus crew reached out to each other, not in words but in swift movement. Helena comes running through the wreckage, the smoke and steam and flashing light. She looks like she's dancing. Her voice when she reaches Kendra is funny, slogging sluggish through Kendra's concussion: "Are you okay?" Helena rears back, slapping Kendra hard across the face, giving her a name: "Come on, soldier." This is love, this is the beginning of love. She drags Kendra to her feet, and tries to rouse Hoshi. We know he's alive, because we'll get to know him later, but there are no such guarantees for Helena or Kendra: they leave him behind and head to CIC.
Raiders rain down on the Fleet shipyards. I think the easiest mistake in the world is to -- at the moment you recognize the flashbacks, as they come -- throw up your hands and say, "I know this story." The whole point of this movie is to tell you that you don't, and never did: it's a story that plays out in faces. It could be boring to hear or see the same stories we already know, so you have to come in at a different angle: not the horrors and the acts, but the faces and the feelings behind the horrors and the acts. That's the story here. Well, and space porn, which is why I mention it here. The end of the Colonies is something we've talked about every second of every day, because it's the singularity, the sharp point of the needle, the 9/11 where everything starts over in a new world where everything has changed. It's the first domino, it's the rock that sends you off into the hard places. I did not know how beautiful it was. Flames bloom in the shipyards, like a garden of death; where the rain of Raiders falls, death is sown, and it is beautiful, and it is terrible. I feel like I'm learning things about science fiction just sitting here.