Battlestar Galactica
The Captain's Hand

Episode Report Card
Jacob Clifton: A | Grade It Now!
Citizen Rya

Gaius is hanging out and taking his time in the Galactica morgue, looking into his microscope and dicking Roslin around with this whole "Oh I'm such a busy scientist what's the problem" vibe: "I am curious. Why the sudden interest in the Fleet's demographic projections?" Roslin's clearly hating life down there -- I'm guessing it's been about a month, and then Baltar on top of it? -- and won't meet his eyes: "An issue has emerged that may prove divisive to our administration. I would like all the facts in hand before making my decision." Six appears. It's weird to see these two women onscreen at the same time -- where are you supposed to look? They're both so encoded with this strength and this power; it's creepy to see Six slithering around Roslin, as Roslin looks at the floor. "So, now it's 'our administration'?" Six goads. "She must be desperate." Baltar pushes a key on his terminal and some files start loading. "Well, I'm a very busy man." See? "Luckily, I made an initial calculation on these figures, over seven months ago, when nobody seemed interested or concerned."Not "research grants are rendered worthless right around the apocalypse and I am therefore obsolete," but "I am a misunderstood genius." He concludes: "All I had to do was factor in the numbers from the Pegasus crew. It took me hardly any time at all, and I didn't mind." The ending clause is just as prissy and awesome as you think. He hands Roslin the report and tells her not to bother reading it: "If we continue on our present course, within the next eighteen years," Six's hands on his shoulders, "the human race will simply be...extinct." Six looks at Roslin's face with a cruel smile that slowly falls. I had a whole thing about how this may or may not be true, assuming a higher mortality than we've seen so far, offset by the fact that the majority of the survivors are adults, blah blah, but the thing is: it doesn't matter. He just confirmed the Whiteboard -- Roslin's greatest enemy. He's still the smartest person she's ever met, this superstar media celebrity, the vice-president. He just played her. And in context of the federalism issue, I find it's not even really that interesting to worry about. I don't care how vampires wake up knowing kung fu either, you know? With the complaints about the inconsistent availability of water, booze, food, et cetera, it's nice to see focus on a real-world something that has really huge consequences. My eyes are elsewhere.

Roslin gives in, gives a radio address: "Since assuming the presidency, I've made it my mission to maintain the rights and freedoms we so enjoyed prior to the attack." Adama listens in his quarters with a headache and a drink, taking off his glasses. He can hear it in her voice as few of the people listening probably can. "One of these rights has now come into direct conflict with the survival of the species. And I find myself forced to make a very difficult decision." Rya sits behind a privacy screen in the med lab, touching her belly. "The issue is stark. The fact is that if the civilization is to survive, we must, must repopulate this Fleet." Doc Cottle smokes, disgusted, disappointed. "Therefore, I'm issuing an executive order." Adama leans back on his couch. "From this day forward, anyone seeking to interfere with a birth of child, whether it be the mother..." There. She almost loses it precisely there. "Or a medical practitioner..." She clears her throat, bucks up. "Shall be subject to criminal penalty." This last with tears in her eyes, almost inaudible.

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Battlestar Galactica




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