"It'd be my own fault," she replies, all smiles, although she is very careful when she pushes the tip of the knife into the pumpkin and begins to cut. Her hands are steady, and though she is slow, she does a good job of following the pattern she had drawn for herself.

"It's a Centurion," she explains, pausing a moment to pop out a chunk of pumpkin. "A non-human-looking Cylon." If she's distressed at all by looking at one in jack o'lantern form, she doesn't show it. "They guard the Cylon base."