Gaius Baltar stands in his laboratory, smoking. He steps forward watching other passengers and members of the Fleet pass by in the corridors of the Battlestar Galactica. They pass slowly with deadened, flat expressions.
Baltar: There was an old footbridge ... over the Euclid River. Used to go there when I was a boy. Fish try and swim upstream. They're mesmerizing. I envied them. Unaware as they were of the wider complexities of life.
Standing in the doorway, the camera pans out to reveal Virtual Six leaning against the opposite side.
Virtual 6: You're beginning to see human beings as we see them.
Baltar: What I see are Cylon faces. Everywhere I look. Sharon told me there are eight Cylons left in the Fleet. Why didn't I ask her who they were? If that idiot hadn't have shot her. Why is it when things go wrong, they go wrong so well?
Virtual 6: Gaius. You get yourself far, far too worked up about these things.
Virtual 6 drapes coyly across Gaius' shoulders. He continues to watch the people walking past. Virtual 6 watches them, too.
Virtual 6: They do have it easy, don't they?
Baltar: They? Why are you talking to me like I'm not one of them?
Virtual 6, suddenly disinterested, saunters away.
Virtual 6: In some ways you never were. You have a path. You will be spared their fate. For once, Gaius, you can stop manipulating the world and let destiny take its course.
Virutal 6: If there's one thing we know about human beings with certainty: they are masters of self-destruction.