Battlestar Galactica

Episode Report Card
Jacob Clifton: A+ | 3 USERS: A
The Stockdale Paradox

Kara Thrace is attracted to questions, to unsolvable things, to unbreakable objects. She opens doors with her hands, and when those are taken away she uses her feet. She killed him every night in the dollhouse, not because she hoped for anything better but because it was the only thing she knew she had to do: fight until she couldn't anymore. And every night he returned, to tell her of her destiny. She hates the words as she says them: the warped panel, the numbers on it, are the double of her own. They are standing in the wreckage of her Viper. They are standing in the center of a death.

III: Just Another Day

The Tyrols knew about the rough spots, but the Agathons know the solution: they race around their quarters, laughing, picking Hera up and tossing her in the air, putting her down again, chasing each other around the table. Anastasia knocks on their hatch, and comes in smiling, laughing as they play with their daughter. "Raptor's down!" Athena shouts, and Hera shrieks appreciatively; Helo thanks Anastasia for coming. Thanks her for caring for Hera in the center of the rough spot.

Anastasia laughs, a jerking sound, a loving sound. There is no need to thank her, for taking the time to remember innocence, to play with Hera at the end of the world. Athena promises they'll be back soon, and the Agathons leave. Once outside, I'm sure their smiles fade. This is therapy. Helo saw Anastasia on the Raptor, saw how close she came to the hard deck. This is therapy for everyone. "You have no idea what's happened, do you?" Anastasia says, resting her face against Hera's, holding her tight. She flies the food toward Hera's mouth like a Viper, luxuriating in the silence. "Huh? Today is just another day," she says. There is jealousy in it.

It was years ago, now, the first time she met Billy Keikeya. She was nineteen years old, standing in her bra, getting ready for the decommissioning; he blundered into the head by mistake, a bumbling, beautiful young functionary. "In or out?" she said. The first thing she ever said to him, the first thing we ever heard her say. "In or out?" It's hard to remember that Anastasia now, the one who could fall in love with a glance, who could turn the Fleet upside down and let the President go free. It's hard to remember her back then, that smile. She was beautiful then, as she is beautiful now. She had no frakkin' idea what was ahead of her. It was just another day.

On the surface, Galen Tyrol hears something once again, and heads off like he always does; he passes a Cylon science team digging in the dirt. A Six calls to an Eight, scraping dirt from an object with her perfect hands: it's the face of a Cylon toaster, but it's nothing we've ever seen. Not a Centurion, not even a Guardian. It looks meaner, somehow. In a meeting with the human scientists and leaders, somewhere warmer, the Six reports they've been found all over the surface. Among the bones.

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Battlestar Galactica




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