"Filters... Filters... the sublime elevation of the..."
"Why did it jump? Where are we?" Twinset Eight's more interested in why the Hybrid seems to be jumping random. She's never jumping random: listen. "Control... Filters..." The most important, the most fearful, the most beautiful and the hardest woman in the universe is Laura Roslin. Control, filters. Nobody makes more sense than Laura Roslin, and nobody deserves our love more than Laura Roslin. And she has made that, I'm sorry, a total bitch since New Caprica. Human psychology is based on projection, and we are all orphans: Of all the sins of Gaius Baltar, the thing I have the hardest time forgiving is how he took her away from me.
"Why don't I talk to the Hybrid? Find out why..." Because he's the star here, isn't he? He's been told by Six, by Jeanne and Tracey and hot little Paulla a million times he's the star here. He knows God is in this room, even if Laura can't get there yet. That's one door open to him: why not walk through? All he ever wanted was your admiration. Make sense of the Hybrid, you're doing Leoben one better, even. And no matter how effed up Leoben is, which is muchly, at least you know he's got a hotline to God. That's all Gaius wants. He didn't even know it, before the angel and the holocaust, but that's all he wants. A personal audience; to tell an omnipotent and infinitely forgiving sentience the story he already knows. To look into those eyes and demand forgiveness anyway, just to be sure. It colors everything: his redemption has no audience. It's a treat balanced on his snout. Filters, control. "She can just... do that? She can just...?" Helo's amazed, but we'll never hear the end.
Guide Elosha asks her to walk through the halls of an empty Battlestar. Empty because they are home? Empty because they are all dead? I don't care; I just don't ever want to go through this again. I don't want to watch her body on the altar again. I wish this was the future and I hope it is, because I can't watch her die again. Fuck story logic; half of Lost is shit like this, and that has no emotional content at all. I need Laura Roslin. She's dressed professionally, swinging hair and clicking heels. I mean, she's always dressed professionally, but... you know what I mean. This is her, aiua-Laura, click-clacking hand in hand with God down an empty hall. "Galactica, it... What's going on? It's empty." Elosha nod, as they walk. "It is. Feels bigger this way, doesn't it?"