"I'm telling you guys," says Pike -- ever the redshirt, not seen since New Caprica -- "This thing is a setup anyway. I mean, you think that the old man just gave her the ship and then cut her loose? I guarantee you Galactica's dogging our every move, and they're just waiting to jump in as soon as she shows her true colors." Anders tells him to shut it, and Pike fronts on him, calling him "Rook." Helo once again tells them to cram it, just as Kara's voice is ringing out across the sub like a ghost. "Helo, I need to talk to you. Now!"
Helo goes to meet with her, and as Pike asks for odds on yet another course correction, Anders follows. He stares up at her, backlit, through the grating on the floor. The sickly amber light makes a halo around her; you can't catch her face. He begs her to listen, asks if there's anything she can tell them, to settle their stomachs. Any new data. He boxes her in with his need; pokes at her fear. Finally, purpose, finally a thing she can do that nobody else can do, finally redemption, and all they can do is lock her and chain her for it, and now they're asking her over and over again: "What if you fail?" The question she keeps asking herself, chained and boxed and caged by it. The world ended when she died, and now her list is very small, and every worried and every angry question carries the threat that her list is full of lies. "You know everything you need to know, ensign. So stow the questions and do your job." Helo joins her on the upper deck, where she is hidden and alien and strange, and she gives him new jump coordinates, and down in the common room, everybody stares at everybody else. Anders slams a locker on it.
DREAMS OF A SPIRIT SEER/ESSAY ON THE ILLNESS OF THE HEAD
(In which old Perspectives, entering their Obsolescence, are threatened for the last time.)
Cally packs Nicky's stuff for the day, not looking at Chief, ignoring yesterday and all the days beforehand. Chief sits at the table near the baby, begging her to listen to the truth. Begging her to listen to part of the truth. "I'm telling you again right now. I am not having an affair. I went out for a drink. I ran into Tory. We started talking." Cally shakes bottles, grabs toys for the baby, won't look at him. He searches for her eyes, but she won't give them to him. "You're gonna have to drop Nicky off. I have a doctor's appointment. Can you tell them not to feed him any of that algae mash? I think he's allergic." One thing she's never done is ignore him like this. Even on the levels it was sad, he could at least depend on her gaze, on her love rooting him somewhere away from nightmare. He has never needed his wife more than at this moment, and she doesn't know, and she can't know. He is begging, and it sounds like lies. He even slams a fist upon the table, scaring the baby, hoping to shock a glance out of her. But she's gone cold, having discovered her new power. "Just remember about the algae." She leaves, and Nicky cries, afraid, and the Chief reaches for him and looks at the hatch she slammed behind her, and apologizes, again and again, in the softest voice.