Hera's in the Agathon quarters, drawing the sky, coloring in thirteen stars, waiting for Kara. Helo's excited when Kara arrives, with a box full of the pieces of Kara's life before she died. Anxious to get in there, fix her up, return her to normal. Find the thing she's been missing and give it back. And he's right: what she's missing is the girl she used to be. But giving it back won't fix her. She's not broken. Kara grins at Hera, and compliments her art. After she died, the pilots auctioned off her stuff, as they always do. He's spent the last who knows how long begging, buying, stealing it back. On top there's a DAT tape of one of her dad's performances: Dreilide Thrace Live At The Helice Opera House. A collector's edition. She picks it up, and Hera hands her the picture that she's drawn, and Kara tries to leave. She's grateful -- doesn't want Helo to think otherwise -- but the idea of walking through the corridor with a box full of some other girl, some irrelevant memories and painful ones, is a non-starter. She smiles winsomely at him, with just the tape and her drawing, and when she's gone Hera searches her father's disappointed face. It's hard to seem grateful for a gift you don't want, even when you are. She's too far gone. The sound of the hatch door closing is like a car pulling away.
He's the big affair I cannot forget
Only man I ever think of with regret
Boomer's lying in her cell, looks up to see Chief standing there in his deck gear. She can't read his face, so she stands up slowly and goes to the window. The guard watches her passively on the monitor and goes back to his NYMPH or whatever. When Chief finally picks up the phone, she thanks God for it, but he immediately says he doesn't even know why he's there. Her smile falls. "You know, when I shot the old man, the things that you said to me... The way that you looked at me... I thought New Caprica was a way to set things right." It could have been; it never could have been. "You can't force people to love you at the point of a gun," he says, looking Boomer in the eye. "I know that, now. But at the time I felt betrayed. So I wanted to forget you. And hate you..." Ran to Cavil, to the better machine, to a world where the Final Five stayed gone forever. Where the better machine said you couldn't even think of them, and it would never hurt again. "It didn't work. I've thought about you every day since that moment I died in your arms." The best lies are the ones that are true. The Chief nearly weeps. He admits his regret, the irony that goes too far even for him, for hating her for what she was. The lights flicker as she pushes her advantage: "I know. Galen, it's okay, really. I mean, the most important thing is that we both know who we are now." She reaches toward him, toward the glass, and asks if they can't make the most of the time they have left. He takes a while, but finally he reaches out, touching the glass on the other side.
I'd like to add his initial to my monogram