Veniums Terram

We have arrived at Earth. One of his hands is already in hers; he puts down the phone and they embrace. Lee's tears well up, uncontrollable. A cry of joy and applause ring out across the Fleet. Hoshi and Gaeta rejoice, if you know what I mean. Lee climbs onto the CIC console, whooping like the mad dork he is, and whips his jacket off, over the assembled crew.

Fratres sororesque, inimici et amici, osculamini domum venimus

Brothers and sisters, enemies and friends: Embrace! For we have come home. A deckhand osculates Figurski's resistant face. The Daru Mozu men cheer, all along the tylium belt.

Iam plango

Yet I weep. Galen holds his son in his lap, and kisses him warmly.

The pilots go crazy. Hotdog is a little choked up. Athena and Helo kiss, with their child in his arms.

Iam plango

Yet I weep. Gaius leads his people; they raise their arms in thanks.

Non mortuos sed implacatos

Not for the fallen, but for the unforgiven. Tigh sits alone, in his rack, staring down another bottle.

Collinae virentes nos excipient

Green hills await. Kara stands in the Hall of Remembrance, looking at Kat's picture. Her only family left, beyond the Adamas and Laura. "We made it, kid," she grins sadly. And yet I weep. Sam approaches and stands by her, guilty and in love. She doesn't look, but she knows he's there. Tell me chair.

Roslin weeps, against the console; her form too small to hold its greatness. Lee and Bill embrace. Adama is quiet, and proud, tears on his cheeks: "We did it." But Lee knows better: "You did it."

Earth. Blue ocean, white fluffy clouds, drawing nearer as we fade.

Vento sequente caeli aperient

With wind at our backs, the heavens part

Approquinquantibus!

As we approach.

THE GARDEN OF THE SCAR

There's something I have to tell you. Come.

Lacuna. The ships drop through atmosphere, down and down, shuttles and transports and things, away from Galactica and into the atmosphere, tenderly supersonic, through fluffy clouds and blue skies, joyfully as they fly.

Kara Thrace will lead the human race to its end.

Bill Adama, hand bandaged, picks up a fistful of Earth. A Geiger counter held by a Marine croaks out its deathsong. He drops the poisoned earth to the ground, disgusted, dreams dead upon the vine. Laura stands beside him, staring out at the greys and blues of their blacks and white Home. "Earth," she says, in disgust and pain and fear and sadness.