Kara flips the comms on, spins the needle; the goes silent for a beat before a signal appears: One signal. One signal clear as morning, coming from a single unmistakable bearing. She stares, and she thinks, but she already knows. That's the sound of the angel.
Gaius swears coercion won't work with Lee, because he's too similar to Bill now, and Tory repeats that he's bluffing, which my God you guys, they're both bluffing, there is no suspense here logically much less narratively, but everybody does get to throw around a lot of lingo so that's fun, and Gaius says "tinker's damn" which is always fun although less fun in context because the tinker's damn Lee does not give relates to three of our favorite characters who are just now standing in the strobes and the spotlight of an airlock that never seemed quite this... disco à go-go until this episode... and he swears that Lee will kill them, 3/5 of the Final Five, and of course this offends Three, who points out that the entire human race will die with them, which honestly I think would be a fair trade if we were ourselves meant to give a tinker's damn about any of this running around and yelling.
Well, the Starbuck part is cool because something is actually at stake, plus there are ancient Colonial war-chants written by Bear and translated into Samoan. Samoan, of course. Togiola ina ia ola, go the voices: "Sacrifice to live." Ola ina ia oti, they pound in her ears: "Live to die." So now you know some handy Samoan phrases that should help make your stay memorable.
The Baseship nukes go hot and Lee and Dee talk about how if the Fleet starts their FTL drives spinning the Cylons will just blow everybody to hell, but with a lot more words and bad-ass talk around the subject that there is nothing actually happening here, because that's how it works when you give the best stories ("Maelstrom," "Scar," "Downloaded," "Rapture") to the least subtle writers, and do you ever wonder why it takes twice the men to do half the work and just blab it all onto the page without any moments to breathe at all, or at least why it takes twice the men to make a single twelve-year-old boy, because that's what this is like, talking to a particularly awesome military-minded child, which is why I don't watch Stargate, and why I hate science fiction anyway, so like I'm even qualified to have an opinion.
So Lee moves everybody around like it's musical electric chairs and so now Tigh's in the tube and the boys are outside, and meanwhile Three is looking all sad at Gaius for asking her if she for-real honestly thinks "God brought you back from the darkness for this," and her smile falls: "Maybe He brought you back for a different purpose. To end this peacefully," Gaius asks. And Three -- because she wasn't there for the Dance, because she doesn't know about the Shape of Things How They Are, how she's retro-psycho-obsolete in her own way, says the thing that somebody has to say between now and the big reconciliation, which is that: "They will never forgive us for what we did to the Twelve Colonies, never." And that is the narrative of lonely Three, because nobody told her anything better. "Proceed." The missiles do ... missile things, and on Galactica the airlock door begins to close.