THE HALF DOZEN, AND THE OTHER
(In which Raiders are Desecrated, Tory Foster's Algorithms fail her utterly, and both Natalie and Adama choose unthinkable Alternatives.)
On the Basestar, the Fours are drilling holes into the brains of creatures too loving and dumb to understand or protest what's being done. You sing them to sleep, Raiders; when they're nervous or afraid you sing to them. And when they die, their last thought is of fear, and pain; and when they're reborn, it's all they can think of. Happy little warriors.
Cavil sits behind a desk in a conference room and smiles at Natalie, smarmy as ever. She demands once again for him to stop, and Cavil rules out free will for the Raiders. He considers her a moment, and then begins to shout. "Do you know what just really rankles my ass? You've been pointing fingers, falsely accusing me of manipulation just short of tyranny, when you're the one that's been leading the charge here." That's what a girl does, when she's right. It's not tyranny to respond to tyranny. Natalie stands with her arms crossed and tells him a second time that he must stop, and is again denied. She asks a third time, as with any spell, and he laughs at her in an aside to Simon ("It's unbelievable, isn't it? Unbelievable.") And his response to Natalie is simple: "For the last time, no." That's three. These are old rules.
(Creon: "Therefore we must support the cause of order, and in no wise suffer a woman to worst us. Better to fall from power, if we must, by a man's hand; then we should not be called weaker than a woman.")
"I was afraid you'd say that," she says, and she means it. "Come in." A couple Centurions enter the conference room, and Cavil calls her cute, reminding her the Centurions -- like the Hybrids, like the Raiders, like anybody not selected by his God -- don't vote. "Oh, they're not here to vote, Cavil," she says, and their arms become guns, and Natalie is sad behind her eyes, but determined, and won't look away from him.
Tory moans beneath Baltar, distracting him; he asks if he's hurting her and she says no, that there's nothing wrong. He realizes she's crying; I wonder if he thinks of Gina in this moment, or about why he does the things that he does. "It's just something I do during sex," she says, in a deadpan that we know is a lie. She wasn't crying with Sam, listening to the song across the water. ""All...all the time?" Even for Gaius, apparently, that's a new one. She apologizes, and he strokes the tears from her face. "Don't be sorry. Why should you apologize? You should be thankful. You have an abundance of feeling." That's one way to look at it, I guess. But if you connect the dots, shouldn't that mean that you should not be having sex with her? Because what this is, is an abundance of weird. He calls her blessed, and she spaces out, gone vague, and wonders aloud if she's a Cylon. (Speaking of connecting the dots, I can't: You're blessed, aren't you? "I guess so, or I could be a Cylon. Either way, stop fucking me, because I'm crying, you idiot.")