Battlestar Galactica
The Son Also Rises

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Jacob Clifton: C+ | Grade It Now!
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You Are All A Lost Generation

Caprica smiles sadly, catching on a bit to Romo's emergent structures, the way he cages you with words and the silences between them. The unsaid: "Well, that's a shame, isn't it? Since they'll never let me keep it." But the words were never the point, for Gaius and for Romo: they use words to change perceived reality, like any magician. Like any messenger. "You understand that your days are owned and tallied by these people, the ones out there watching us. I think you realize what's likely to become of you." You are in the house of the enemy, and you will never leave it. You have left God and your people behind, and you have nobody to cling to but the person sitting in front of you, telling you everything you want to hear. Giving you everything he won't give you. Lee, are you listening? "I couldn't help you if they paid me ten times what they offered me for Baltar. You won't get a trial, not even a bad one. So...I have to ask you. Does your love hurt as much as mine?" All pain and all love, all those little apocalypses, are equal to the same amount; don't let anyone tell you different. Don't ever let somebody else's love overrule your own, and don't rely on the wondrous fascination of your own pain to ever get your way. He's pushing her to take the Cally option, and doing it in such a way that she can't refuse. Kara, Lee, Bill, Laura, Tory, Caprica: Stay inside your own pain. It matters more. You're all alone. I can help. Caprica stares at the pen, makes out with it a little. Now she has two dream Gaiuses, to keep her company. Two men that love her only.

"I feel like part of the world just fell down," says Laura. Bill, unable to deal with the words behind the words, notices he's missing a button, from his uniform. They're both right. Romo Lampkin wins.

Lee and Romo enter the pilots' rec room, and the guys scatter at the Major's greeting. Alone, Lee begins to wonder. To ask questions; to ask for Romo's words to redescribe the universe again, and tell him where to stand in it. A person who loves the rules as much as me and Lee, as much as Laura and Tory, fall apart when you take them away. "... Why encourage the man to write and then take his pen?" Romo nods easily. "It'll curry more sympathy when we get the word out that he's been silenced. Tyranny, gag orders... very sexy." Lee's getting it. It's like a virus, curling around his spine. He's a good boy. I love Romo, but I don't like this. "Alright, so you steal his pen, then you lie to him, then you lie to the Six?" Romo smiles in his sunglasses, gets vague. "The horror of the age. The great ugly material. The cloak of deceit." Trying to live up to Lampkin, Lee snarls cynically. It looks on him both ridiculous and heartbreaking. He's always needed a father: "The truth. Hmph. Kind of overrated, I guess. You know, when I was nine, maybe ten, my grandfather...he would wave me over. And he'd do this all the time. And then he'd say, uh, 'Lee, be a good boy. Just don't be too good.'" No such thing, Lee. I can't remember caring about him one way or the other, really, before now, beyond certain moments of adoration and the occasional bloodcurdling scream of frustration. But this is like somebody throwing up in your head. They say it all so lightly. "Everybody has demons," Lampkin laughs. "Them, Baltar, you, me. Even the machines. The law is just a way of exorcising them. That's what your father's father told me. You want to know why I hated him? Because he was right." Hop, hop, hop down the bunny trail: "So you hated him because he was right, and I hated the law because it was wrong. Because of what...of what it put him through. I mean, he defended the worst of the worst. I remember reading about him. The outrage. Helping murderers go free. What I don't understand is why he put himself through all that abuse." Don't you love how the concept of defense counsel is like blowing everybody's mind?

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Battlestar Galactica

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