If you’re just getting here, you should know that this is the third and final installment in my nerdriffic saga entitled Robots, Sex, and How I Learned to Love the Cylon Nookie. As much as I love having you here, this whole thing will probably make more sense if you read the first and second entries of this Cylon geekout fiesta before diving into this one. Also, there are lots and lots of spoilers, so if you haven’t watched the show, now would be a good time to get on that. Just a suggestion. :)

With the Cylons exhibiting so many interesting characteristics and all, it’s easy to forget that there are actually some humans left in the universe depicted in Battlestar Galactica.

I realize that I have been occasionally referring to humans as “us” and “we” throughout this saga I have begun. Because of this, I think it is important to point out that the humans in Battlestar Galactica are not exactly like real-life contemporary humans.

For instance, they are not from Earth.

(*boom boom boom*)

All of the humans depicted in Battlestar Galactica are from one of twelve planets located in the same solar system, collectively known as The Twelve Colonies of Kobol. They are named as such, because they all originated from one planet called Kobol, and after some kind of mass exodus (it’s never fully explained why they left) then settled separately in twelve distant planets, which became more like what we think of as nations.

These humans then went about their human business for 2,000 years, of which the last fifty-two or so, were spent as one sovereign nation, referred to as The United Colonies of Kobol. (If you add a K, and make it The United Kolonies of Kobol, this whole thing could become a Mortal Kombat spin-off of some sort).

It was during this time that proverbial excrement hit the fan with the Cylons, since as I mentioned, the humans created them and then used them as soldiers, laborers and servants. They were essentially a fully sentient slave race, and we all know how well that usually works for everyone.

The Battlestar Galactica spin-off, Caprica actually focuses on human society before the Cylons, and the events that led to the creation of the very first models. It is all sorts of fascinating, well-written, and I highly recommend it, although it is tonally far different than the re-imagined BG.

Anyway, after the Cylons and the Humans had their war, and the Cylons decided to just nuke all twelve planets, the few humans that remained (A little less than 50,000 people, out of an initial 20 billion) had a bit of a dilemma on their hands.

They could hang out, try to fight the Cylons and probably lose, or they could run far away with their sole military vessel, an old retired museum piece, called The Battestar Galactica (ahhhhh…) and try to find a new, suitable world for humanity to flourish once more.

But where to find such a place? Where, pray tell, could these people go, in order to be safe from the Cylons, an enemy that by their own design, would not tire and would not stop?

The answer, as it always was, was in an olden tale the humans used to tell their children. A tale that told the story of a splintering of ancestors who upon the exodus from Kobol, went their own way, instead of going along with the others to settle into twelve colonies.
It was believed then, that there was a thirteenth colony of humans somewhere across the galaxy, living on a thriving planet its inhabitants call simply Earth.

“Oh, Great. Interstellar Alien humans. And they’re on their way here. Because this whole thing wasn’t complicated enough before. Do I at least get to hear some more about Nookie?”

In contrast with the Cylons, most of the humans in series practice a polytheistic religion, with gods identical to those our real-life ancient Greeks worshiped. A common theme throughout the show, (which seems to affect both humans and Cylons equally) is the existence of a divine will, or some grand force that seems to guide many of the characters to behave in specific ways in order to yield certain results. (I call it a strange phenomenon sometimes referred to as a “writer”).

For instance, for some reason that is never truly explained, the Cylons eventually decided that the future of their race was also dependent upon locating Earth.

Why, you ask? Why would a race of bioengineered parricial beings decide that after having gone through all of the machinations (ha! pun!) necessary to exterminate the entire human race as they knew it, they now want to go hang in a world presumably chock full of the same humans they have been trying to kill and/or shag? And this is a good thing…how?

Of course, it makes no sense. That is precicely why the Cylons had themselves their very own civil war. (Awww! They’re all grown up!)

During the course of this civil war, lots of interesting things happen. Among many, the Cylons lose their access to Resurrection, which makes any one of their deaths final. How did this happen, you ask?

Well, it’s simple. In order to prove their point, and really stick it to the man, (or machine) a fraction of rebel Cylons sided with the humans, and took out the “Resurrection Hub,” which is like the server room to the Resurrection network.

You see, they had already decided that they couldn’t go back to it all being honky dory with the other Cylons, and since they were now “banned” from the network, they figured they would just bomb the crap out of it, and that way no one could go on CyTweet or InstaCy Resurrect anymore.

It all seems simple enough doesn’t it? Take out the Resurrection hub, and shimmy your way over to Earth with your new found parricidal buddies. What could possibly go wrong?

 

“Answer: Just About Everything.”

 

So, Cylons and humans sang “Kumbaya” as they flew their way to Earth, and through some miracle, they finally did make it there. That’s right, they actually made it without ever discussing what they thought they would find, or what would happen once they arrived.

Well, as it turns out, there was nothing on Earth. The Thirteenth Colony was evidently destroyed by its own robotic children, who had the same idea as the Cylons, and nuked the shit out of everyone, including themselves.

 

“HOLY SHIT, DUDE.”

 

I KNOW.

So, now that I’ve either spoiled this series for you, or coaxed you into watching it, I feel I should warn you about the next few paragraphs.

Believe it or not, I have actually left a whole lot of stuff out, so that if you truly have not watched the show, you can still watch it, and enjoy it a great deal. The next few paragraphs however, will detail how the series ends, and like the rebel Cylons found out, there is no way back from here.

You’ve been warned.

 

“So now… there’s more Nookie, right?”

Sort of. After everyone realized that Earth was just a pipe dream, a lot of the characters, including the Cylons, really started to go really bat-shit crazy. After all, this whole thing they had gone through (and subjected us to) had apparently been for nothing.

Remember that one Cylon-Human hybrid baby that was born throughout all the human-Cylon Nookie?

Well, the non-rebel Cylons were sick and tired of all the crap too, and ultimately concluded that the best course of action at this point, was to kidnap and experiment on this child. It must have seemed like the best idea, since they no longer had the ability to Resurrect, and they were just not feeling sexy enough to try anymore of the “love intensive” human-Cylon Nookie they would need to accomplish in order to make more like her.

Yes, her. The child’s name was Hera, and for some odd reason, she reminds me of Suri Cruise.

As expected, Hera’s cylon/human parental duo didn’t take kindly to the idea of their kid being cylonnapped. They liked the idea of Hera being killed and then examined in a lab far less.

In order to avoid all of this, the rebel Cylons and the humans launched all-out assault on the base of the remaining Cylons. It was pretty epic, seeing as everyone was fully mortal by this point. And then, once the child was secure, some cosmic coincidence (read: really tired writers) led Bob Dylan’s All Along the Watchtower to randomly save everyone that needed saving by teleporting the ship they were on to somewhere far, far away.

I’m not kidding.

In heat of battle, one of the crazier than usual characters was required to input escape coordinates into the ship’s navigational controls, and of course, her first guess for these coordinates are numbers she had assigned to the notes of a song she and some of the Cylons had inexplicably (read: really, really, tired writers) been hearing everywhere.

You know what that means.

That’s right. Bob Dylan is a Cylon.

So, where does everyone end up, you ask?

Oh, nowhere special. Just a small distance from a little blue planet in the middle of nowhere, really.

Upon having a closer look, it seemed that the most fertile of the land masses on this planet featured some indigenous people, and held an odd semblance to what we might recognize as Africa.

It was so, that both Cylons and humans decided to settle, and spread all of over this planet they had found. Leaving all of their technology behind, and choosing instead try for a truly fresh start.

And what did they decide to call this world, you ask? Well, Earth had been their dream from the very beginning. It was an idea more than anything else, they realized, and so they decided to call it Earth.

 

It’s about 150,000 years later and things have changed. Humanity is once again thriving, and dangerously in thrall of the thing they call technology.

Archeologists have just found the remains of that lone Cylon-Human hybrid love-nookie child. Even after all that time, they realized she was special. Only they didn’t call her Hera. They called her Mitochondrial Eve.

 

“Wait, so…that means that Cylon Nookie is really just regular Nookie?”

Now, you’re getting it, Norman.

It turns out your mom was a Cylon after all. And so are you.