Battlestar Galactica

Episode Report Card
Jacob Clifton: A+ | 1 USERS: A+
YOU GRADE IT
The Stockdale Paradox

Felix stands behind her, finally relenting. He points at a picture pinned to the inside door of her locker: a little girl on a bicycle, staring into the future. "Look at that," he says, connecting her to the little girl. "Little Ana's got her smile back!" Finally. A long time coming, that. She looks like Hera, that little girl. She looks like Anastasia, tonight more than she has in a long time. "Sometimes I don't even remember that's me. It's so long ago." Anastasia looks at the little girl in the photograph, drinks her in, in love with her. "She has no frakkin' idea what's ahead of her."

What would you keep in your locker? The dogtags of the men you've loved and lost, certainly, and photographs of your dead relatives; records of achievements, sentimental notes from friends and lovers. All the things too precious to take with you but too important to store elsewhere. All the things you need to look at every single day in order to remain yourself. Anastasia keeps this picture hanging in her locker, and has for years: this little girl, innocent and full of hope. This is her heart, locked somewhere the world will never find it. This is how we stay clean.

"Yeah, none of us do," Felix grumbles, and takes up his crutch, and walks away toward the hatch. She takes off her necklace and opens it up: a locket, with mother and father inside. Her humming grows louder as he leaves, to fill the empty spaces; she watches him go in her mirror as she hums. Anastasia watches Felix close the hatch door behind him, and breathes in the perfume of a perfect day; she removes her wedding ring and hangs it on a hook in the locker door, arranging objects: A wedding ring, from the man she loves most. A mother and a father. And a little girl, who had no idea and never will, who stayed safe and clean and innocent through all the days and years of pain that brought us here. A mirror, eyes still lit with the joyful, dreamy light of one perfect day. A portrait of a life, all the things to look at, to remind you of yourself in your best moments. Daughter, wife, Adama, happy, beloved and home. These are the last things Anastasia Dualla ever sees.

Felix and Seelix hear the gunshot, out in the corridor; he rushes on his stick back toward his quarters but he's moving slowly, and she gets there first. She's cradling the body of his closest friend as he rounds the corner and through the hatch; she is covered in blood, screaming, babbling, and he's assuring her that it will be alright, they just need a medic, even though he knows it is a lie; even though he can see her eyes in the pool of blood, and how they've gone quiet and empty, but they keeps screaming out. Trying to gather the pieces in their hands. To call her back home.

"Don't leave us yet. We love you. We love you. We love you."

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Battlestar Galactica

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