Battlestar Galactica

Episode Report Card
Jacob Clifton: B | 4 USERS: A-
The Garden Of The Scar
In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!


Lee flips through a bound copy of the Pythian Scrolls, in his father's office. His father is dead. Laura Roslin is dead. This room is a museum, and a tomb, and a box of mysteries; it contains many things. It contains responsibility and sadness and loss, but also hope: one page, like a theme park brochure, lays out the cubits and the furlongs of the Promised Land, as imagined by a long-dead Oracle. Here, the path of the righteous, there, the path of doom and iniquity, both accessible by the same road. On Kobol, some took the high road and the rocky ridge, while others boarded the galleon. We're all going to the same freaking place. From the altar to the temple.

"The large executive chair elevates the sitter. And it is covered with the skin of some animal, preferably your predecessor." -- Emilio Ambasz

Kara enters, in uniform; the Captain of the Air Guard. She comes around to look at the Scrolls over his shoulder: in the middle of the paths and roads, the Temple of Aurora. A beautiful cathedral dome, in whose arms the faithful will gather, and sing praises to the dawn, to a fresh wind and a new start. Pythia saw many things. She took the formless form of the sight and turned it into words, and those words were turned into pictures, and journeys, and lies. "Temple of Aurora," Kara says, and Lee sighs. "On Earth. At least the way Pythia described it." Kara promises him they'll get there, they'll walk those halls together. She's not wrong: they have walked from the altar to the Temple, and it is within their grasp.

"Yeah, pretty to think so." Lee puts the book away; puts it all away. The world, the universe, is stark tonight. In the absence of our leaders and our loved ones, with half the air wing gone forever, home becomes a fiction. There is no home.

"Praying is like a rocking chair. It'll give you something to do, but it won't get you anywhere." -- Gypsy Rose Lee

Kara watches him, sad. "This Roslin's stuff?" All the toothbrushes and books, all the signs of their love, brought like smuggled bodies in luggage and overnight bags. The cabins they were building. He sighs.

"Always design a thing by considering it in its next larger context -- a chair in a room, a room in a house, a house in an environment, an environment in a city plan." -- Eliel Saarinen

"It's weird for them to not be here," Kara says tentatively, crushing down the crushing enormity into a simple understatement. Weird is not what it is, but there's not a word for it. It's bird speech, Oracle language, to talk about this feeling:

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Battlestar Galactica




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