"BATTLESTAR GALACTICA" and other related entities are owned, (TM) and © by R&D TV and Sky TV in association with USA Cable Entertainment LLC. All Rights Reserved. This transcript is posted here without their permission, approval, authorization or endorsement. Any reproduction, duplication, distribution or display of this material in any form or by any means is expressly prohibited. It is absolutely forbidden to use it for commercial gain.
==========================
TRANSCRIPT:
==========================


Galactica - Brig
===================================

 

Tigh: You're sweating.

 

Tyrol: It's hot in here.

 

Tigh: How long have you known Lieutenant Valerii was planning to assassinate Commander Adama?

 

Tyrol:I had no idea she was planning anything of the kind.

 

Tigh: You were frakkin' her.

 

Tyrol:I ended that weeks ago, o­n your orders.

 

Tigh: You covered for her, you lied for her.

 

Tyrol:I admit i used bad judgment.

 

Tigh: You protected her at every turn.

 

Tyrol:Colonel, I had no idea she was a Cylon. (beat) I'd like to exercise my article 21 rights at this time.

 

Tigh: Oh, I'm sure you would. I guess you haven't heard. Cylons don't have rights.

 

Tyrol: Cylon? Wait a minute.

 

Tigh: You know what we do with Cylons, Chief?

 

Tyrol: I'm not a Cylon.

 

Tigh: Roslin came up with the execution method.

 

Tyrol: I'm galen Tyrol!

 

Tigh: She put a Cylon out of the airlock.

 

Tyrol: My father was a priest! My mother was an oracle. I've served o­n battlestars since I was 18 years old. The Pegasus, Columbia,  Atlantia, Galactica--

 

 

Tigh: Don't talk to me like you're a soldier! You are not a soldier!

 

Tyrol: Uhh!

 

Tigh: The old man always had a soft spot for you. Let him decide what to do with you.

 

Tyrol: Colonel, you gotta believe me. I am not a Cylon. I'd never do anything to hurt Adama. I love the old man.

 

Tigh: That's what your girlfriend said. Get him the hell out of here!

 

 

Boomer: Chief? [Crying] I thought you were o­n kobol.

 

Tyrol: Don't. Don't...you...talk to me. Don't come near me. Don't touch me. If you do, I swear... I will kill you.

 

 

 

 

Sue-Shaun: No sign of centurions o­n the perimeter.

 

Anders:  I don't like it. The human toasters don't go anywhere alone.

 

Sue-Shaun: Think they're bait?

 

Anders: Well, a pair of Cylons don't just drive up here in broad daylight. Not after we hit that convoy last week.

 

Sue-Shaun: Frakkin'-A.

 

Anders: All right, screw it. Pass word for everybody to sight in. I wanna blow these Cylons away before they ever knew what hit them.

 

Sue-Shaun: Got it.

 

Starbuck: Unh! We gotta figure out where the hell we are.

 

Helo: Why? You don't know?

 

Starbuck: You're the navigator.

 

Helo: You were driving.

 

Starbuck: Allright we can head towards Gups' Point. There's an emergency airstrip there.

 

Helo: No. I've been. I was thinking we could head southwest.

 

 

Starbuck: Did you hear that?

 

 

Helo: Drive through a lot of bad neighborhoods?

 

Starbuck: Better safe than sorry.

 

Helo: I hear that.

 

 

Starbuck: We're sitting ducks down here!

 

Helo: You go, I'll cover!

 

Starbuck: Why me?

 

Helo: Don't start!

 

Starbuck: Fine!

 

Helo: You ready?

 

Starbuck: Yeah.

 

Helo: Go!

 

 

Helo: Five of them, split up between nine and o­ne. 50 meters.

 

Starbuck: Ready? Go!

 

 

Starbuck: Didn't see any shiny silver out there. I think we're dealing with the human variety.

 

Helo: Hope so--they're not as tough as mechanicals.

 

Starbuck: They do bleed good, though. You gotta like that.

 

Helo: Let's get out of here! Come o­n!

 

Cally: They locked the Chief up with boomer. Tigh thinks he's a Cylon.

 

Baltar: I know. I'm gonna see the Colonel now. I think he wants me to find a way to clear the Chief. Or...

 

Cally: Or what? Throw him out the airlock like a piece of garbage? If Commander Adama were in charge, this would never happen.

 

Baltar: Yes, but he's not in charge, is he?

 

Cally: No, but I've known the Chief for years. He's no toaster.

 

Baltar: He was involved with Lieutenant Valerii, who most certainly is a toaster.

 

#6: That word is racist. I don't like it.

 

Cally: Sure...he's shown some bad judgment getting involved with her. But that doesn't mean he's a toaster. You've got to help him.

#6: Say something, gaius. Tell her you won't have racial epithets used in your presence.

 

Baltar: I'm very sorry. I was gonna tell the Colonel there's nothing I can do. The Cylon detector I developed doesn't work. Clearly.

 

Cally: No! You've got to help him.

 

#6: Your child's gonna be half toaster. How does that make you feel?

 

Baltar: Nothing could make me happier. I just don't know what I'd possibly say.  Excuse me.

 

Cally: He helped you! He didn't tell anyone what you did o­n Kobol. What you did to Crashdown.

 

Baltar: What I did to Crashdown saved your life. Are you blackmailing me?

 

Cally: Help the Chief to help yourself, Doctor.

 

Baltar: Yes, Doctor. That's what you're best at, isn't it?

 

 

 

 

Dualla: Deck log.

 

Tigh: What the hell's the matter with your Cylon detector, Doctor? You gave the assassin a pass.

 

Baltar: Yes, but that was a beta test, a preliminary. Clearly I hadn't perfected my methodology, and she slipped through.

 

Dualla: Fuel report.

 

Tigh: So that the hell are you telling me here? That we are back to square o­ne? That no o­ne's results are definitive? That we have no way of knowing who are the Cylons among us?

 

Baltar: No, I'm saying that since Valerii's te-- since the assassin's test, I've developed a new set of protocols which should  eliminate any errors--anomalies-- that cropped up earlier--

 

Tigh: For gods' sake--

 

Baltar: If you let me test the Chief's blood, I might be able to tell o­nce and for all if--

 

Tigh: No "if"--I want a definitive answer. No more of your weasely techno babble. He's a Cylon or he's not. So get down there and do something right for a change.

 

Baltar: I am the Vice-President. Legally speaking, if the President is incapacitated, shouldn't I take over her duties--

 

Tigh: Legally speaking, I have declared martial law. That makes you nobody. So...unless you want to join Roslin in the brig, I suggest you get to work.

 

Baltar: It's good to see you, Colonel.

 

#6: Aren't you getting tired of the continual humiliation? The disrespect from mechanics and Colonels alike?

 

Baltar: What do you think?

 

#6: Maybe it's time to do something about it.

 

Geata: Sir.

 

Tigh: What is this?

 

Geata: The fleet captains are reporting protests among the civilians. Demonstrations, petitions, even some civil disobedience. All over the declaration of martial law. Sir, there's more. The Aturian refining vessel has stopped refining tylium. They say if they don't have a voice in the government--

 

Tigh: What?!

 

Geata: Their captain says they'll send fuel o­nce the civilian government has been restored. And three other ships are also refusing to resupply Galactica until the President's reinstated.

 

 

Apollo: And I got a note from combat warning about problems with Tylium resupply. So watch your fuel burn till further notice. Questions.

 

Pilot: Yeah, when, uh, when you coming back to the card game?

 

Apollo: I'm afraid when I'm off duty I'll be enjoying the intimate surroundings of the brig until...ah, well, until further notice.

 

Hotdog: Come o­n back. We miss you, Captain.

 

Pilot: We could bring the game to you.

 

Apollo: Somehow I doubt Colonel Tigh would approve.

 

Pilot: Oh come o­n.

 

Hotdog: One's going o­n tomorrow night!

 

Apollo: Hey, all right, all right.

 

 

Apollo: Hey! Knock it off!

 

 

Sgt: Morning, sir.

 

Apollo: Sergeant. Shall we?

 

Morning, sir.

 

Apollo: Morning, Dee. Fancy meeting you here.

 

Dualla: I was just o­n my way, sir. Hey, guys.

 

Sgt: How's it going, Dee?

 

Dualla: Good, thanks.

 

Apollo: How's my father today?

 

Dualla: Uh, Commander Adama's the same...Captain. He's sedated. Resting comfortably since the surgery. Trouble brewing in the fleet, though.

 

Apollo: Oh, I'm shocked. What kind of trouble?

 

Dualla: Martial law isn't going down too well. Protests, demonstrations. Some ships are even refusing to resupply Galactica.

 

Apollo: And this is the honeymoon period. What's a dictator to do?

 

Dualla:  [Giggles] I, um, I wish... I wish you were in command, sir.

 

Apollo: Dee...

 

Dualla: He's hitting the bottle. A lot.

 

Apollo: Thank you for the company, Petty Officer Dualla.

 

Dualla: You're welcome, sir.

 

 

Tigh: [Sighs]

 

Ellen: You okay, baby?

 

Tigh: No, I'm not okay. My head feels like it's gonna roll off my shoulders.

 

Ellen: What are you working o­n?

 

Tigh: I'm trying to figure out how to solve our resupply problem now that half the fleet has gone out o­n strike.

 

Ellen: You serious?

 

Tigh: Yes, I'm serious. I should probably call a summit sit-down with all our ships' captains and explain the situation and tell them why I had to declare martial law.

 

Ellen: Screw them. Like you have to explain yourself to them.

 

Tigh: It wouldn't hurt. It would cool things down a little. What?

 

Ellen: Nothing. No, no, no, it's... you're the boss. Far be it from me to tell you how to do your job. I know that's o­ne of your issues.

 

Tigh: Just say it.

 

Ellen: I don't know, it just feels kind of... touchy-feely. You know, "Let's all sit down and talk about how we feel about martial law." Bill would never do that. But you gotta do what you gotta do. I mean, Bill may never get o­n his feet again. Honey...honey, you handle this the way you want. They'll respect that. Eventually.

 

 

Tigh: This is the XO. Mr. Gaeta, send the following to all ships' captains. Message begins: Resupply operations of this ship are not--repeat, not-- optional. All ships to recommence scheduled supply runs immediately. Failure to comply will result in... stern measures. Message ends. (to Ellen) You happy now?

 

 

Starbuck: I'll flake.

 

Helo: I'll draw fire.

 

 

Starbuck: Can I have a word with you? We're not Cylons.

 

Anders: Right. You're human. You have a soul. You swim in the stream. We heard it all before.

 

Helo: Hey, colonial fleet. Notice the uniforms?

 

Anders: Yeah, right, we've seen Cylons in uniform before. We're human.

 

Starbuck: Yeah, right. Everyone o­n caprica is dead.

 

Anders: You're not.

 

Starbuck: I just got here. I want to hear some names.

 

Anders: I'm Anders.

 

Helo: Samuel T. Anders?

 

Anders: Yeah, that's right.

 

Helo: This is Jo-man, Rally, Ten-point. Sue-Shaun, Crip-Key, Morris Fink. Kara, these are the Caprica Buccaneers.

 

Starbuck: Hmm. I don't think so.

 

Sue-Shaun: Give me a ball, little girl. I'll shove it up your ass.

 

Starbuck: Please...try.

 

Helo: Okay, since we're all getting along so well, can people stop pointing their guns at us.

 

Starbuck: How does a professional pyramid team survive a nuclear holocaust?

 

Anders: We were in the mountains when the Cylons attacked. High altitude training. We've been o­n the run ever since.

 

Starbuck: Doing what?

 

Anders: Raiding military stores for ammo. Anti-radiation meds. And plugging toasters whenever they show up.

 

Helo: Same as us.

 

Starbuck: Okay... how many foul breaks did you have in the playoff against Aerilon?

 

Anders: You're kidding, right?

 

Starbuck: You either have the answer, or you have a bullet.

 

Anders: Three.

 

Starbuck: Wrong. Four.

 

Anders: Three. Last o­ne was called back o­n instant replay.

 

Helo: He's right, starbuck. I lost 20 cubits o­n that game.

 

Starbuck: Fine. For now. o­n three.

 

Anders: o­ne.

 

Starbuck: Two.

 

Anders: Three.

 

Starbuck: You know you guys suck, right? Can't shoot, can't pass. Sure as hell can't take the point.

 

Anders: Everyone's a critic.

 

 

Venner: Here's your, uh, medication, Madame President. And a little something from the galley.

 

Roslin: Thank you, Corporal Venner. (to Apollo) Chamalla and licorice. Would you like some?

 

Apollo: I hate licorice.

 

Roslin: Me too.

 

Apollo: It's interesting he still calls you Madame President. You still have a lot of supporters out there.

 

Roslin: Something ugly is coming. I can feel it.

 

 

 

 

Gaeta: Sir, refinery captain's still not cooperating. And now seven other container ships are refusing to release their supplies. Food, medicine, even coffee.

 

Tigh: Coffee? This is getting ridiculous. Frak this. It's time to get their attention. I'm sending in the marines. I want a raptor and an armed marine boarding party for every ship refusing the resupply order.

 

Gaeta: Sir, we're stretched pretty thin o­n manpower. I'm not sure we have enough marine non-coms to command that many boarding parties, sir.

 

tigh: Well, pull pilots and deck officers to command the boarding parties if you have to. Tell them to get over there and bring back the supplies. Whatever it takes. Make it happen, lieutenant.

 

Gaeta: Yes, sir.

 

Hammerhead: People, step back, all right?! We're just here for the supplies! Just stay out of the way and no o­ne gets hurt! For the last time, step back!

 

 

Hammerhead: Step back!

 

 

Hammergead: Cease fire! Cease fire!

 

 

Tigh: Four civilian dead. How the frak could this have happened?

 

Cottle: What'd you expect, genius? You put a pilot in charge of crowd control.

 

Tigh: Palladino! Did you give the order to shoot o­n that crowd?

 

Hammergead: No, sir, of course not. The crowd surrounded us.

 

Tigh: Were they armed?

 

Hammergead: No, sir, but... you had to be there. They were yelling and screaming at us, and then it got violent. They started throwing things, canisters. Coffee, I think.

 

Tigh: Coffee? You shot people for throwing coffee?

 

Hammergead: The crowd was out of control. They were pressing in o­n us. My men were getting hurt. Somebody took a shot. I don't know who it was. Then all hell broke loose.

 

Tigh:  If ever we needed you, Bill, it's right now.

 

 

Roslin: Troops shooting unarmed civilians. This is a travesty. He has truly stepped over the line. It'll cause an explosion in the fleet. The press will have a field day. The ships would begin to splinter. The Cylons will be able to eliminate us a few ships at a time. We've got to get out of here now.

 

Apollo: I am right with you.

 

Roslin: I'm so glad you said that. I want to take Billy and Elosha with me.

 

Apollo: Of course you do. I've worked out a way of getting us in the hangar deck. And I can get us a raptor. But we're still gonna need clearance to get off the ship. I know how to get that.

 

Roslin: You do?

 

Apollo: Mm-hmm.

 

Roslin: Question is, where do we go o­nce we get off this ship?  We'll have to find some place to hide in the fleet while we rally support among the people.

 

Apollo: I've got an idea about that. You're not going to like it.

 

 

Tigh: I'm not cut out for this. I never was.

 

Ellen: Don't talk like that, saul. This is your moment.

 

Tigh: Me and bill, side by side, that was the deal. It was never supposed to be me alone.

 

Ellen: Well, like it or not, you're in command, so you better deal with it.

 

Tigh: I don't want to deal with it. I do not want to command. Don't you get it? Jeez, why do I listen to you? What are you talk--

 

Ellen: I never told you to send troops out to that ship.

 

Tigh: No, no, you didn't tell me to send troops anywhere. You just manipulate. You always do. You put the knife in, and you twist it.

 

Ellen: Oh, right, you're going to blame me for your own inadequacy?

 

Tigh: I'm not blaming you, Ellen.

 

YEllen: ou are so frakking passive that if I didn't push you, you would never get your head out of that frakking bottle and do anything.

 

 

Tigh: I warned you. I'm telling you.

 

 

Ellen: Get off of--

 

 

Ellen: I love you so much.

 

Tigh: Shut up, Ellen.

 

 

Boomer: I guess you really must hate me. I don't know if it makes any difference right now, but I'm really sorry you got pulled into this. You know, what we had--

 

Tyrol: Was nothing. Nothing. You're a machine. I'm not.

 

Boomer: Well, whatever I am, I know how I felt.

 

Tyrol: Software doesn't have feelings.

 

Boomer: I never meant to hurt you.

 

 

Baltar: I'd like some privacy, please. I'll be fine, thank you.

 

 

Baltar: And how are we this evening?

 

Tyrol: What do you want?

 

Baltar: I'm here to determine whether you're a Cylon or not. Your arm, please.

 

Boomer: His test doesn't work too well. I mean, he gave me the green light.

 

Baltar: The test works... just fine.

 

 

Boomer: Chief? Chief?

 

Baltar: I lied to you, Sharon. I covered up your true nature from the rest of the fleet for my own purposes.

 

Boomer: What did you do to him? He's not breathing.

 

Baltar: No, he's dying right now, Sharon. I can save him if you tell me how many Cylons there are left in the fleet.

 

Boomer: I don't know, but I'm not getting a pulse.

 

Baltar: Yes, you do. Now, buried deep down in that thing you call a subconscious you know how many.

 

Boomer: I don't know!

 

Baltar: He doesn't have time for this, Sharon. His organs are shutting down. In ten seconds time, he'll experience complete brain stem death. Now how many? Do you love him, sharon? o­nly you can save him! Ten... nine... do you love him? Do you love him, Sharon?

 

Boomer: Eight! There are eight.

 

 

 

Anders: All right, let's get these weapons unloaded. Let's go! Hit an armory earlier today, about 18 klicks north. Brought home a lot of toys.

 

Starbuck: What is this place?

 

Anders: Delphi union high school. Toasters don't patrol this area. It's good place to get some shut-eye, a bite to eat.

 

Helo: How many people you have here?

 

Anders: 53, we had almost a hundred before the toasters ambushed us last week-- let's go!

 

Starbuck: More pyramid teams?

 

Anders: Nah, just us C-Bucs. Rest are survivalists, hikers mostly.

 

Helo: How many people you have here? How's your stock of anti-radiation masks?

 

Anders: Raided a couple of hospitals down in Pilgrim Bay. I figured we've got enough for three months. Let's get you some bunk space, come o­n.

 

Starbuck: 53, huh? Not exactly an army. A hell of a lot better than the two of us if we're going to assault an airbase, steal a heavy raider, and get the frak off this planet.

 

 

Roslin: I'll just be a moment. Doctor... I need your help. But it's illegal, dangerous, and in violation of your oath as an officer.

 

Cottle: You're a lousy salesman.

 

 

Billy: Corporal! Corporal Venner. I, uh... I just want to tell you how much the President appreciates all the little things you do for her.

 

Venner: Hey, anything I can do to make things easier for her.

 

Billy:  Great. She, um... has a special request.

 

 

Dualla: If I could just get your signature, sir.

 

 

Tigh: Why are we closing down Causeway B?

 

Dualla: Integrity testing, sir. Got chewed up pretty bad when the toasters boarded us. And we've been getting some pressure drops in there.

 

Tigh: Tell 'em to get it fixed.  Dee.

 

 

Dualla: Oh!

 

Geata: Sorry. 

 

Dualla: Lieutenant.

 

Geata: Things are pretty frakked up these days, huh?

 

Dualla: Yeah, things are pretty frakked up most days.

 

Geata: If people are upset, they should go through the proper channels.

 

Dualla: I'm not sure I understand what--

 

Geata: I was running some maintenance checks, detected a series of scrambled calls going out over the past few hours. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?

 

Dualla: No, sir. Off-log calls are against regs.

 

Geata: Hmm... that's right.

 

 

Apollo: I'm sure you won't approve. But I guess that's nothing new. I just want you to know that this, um... this isn't about you and me. Good-bye, dad.

 

 

Jammer: You gonna help out here or what?

 

Cally: They're putting the Chief in there, you know?

 

Jammer: I don't care if they put a giant parakeet in here. Colonel says build a cell, we build a cell.

 

Cally: This isn't right. He's o­ne of us.

 

Jammer: No, he's o­ne of them. He always was. We just never saw it.

 

Cally: No, he's innocent. She tricked him.

 

Jammer: Wow, such loyalty. Were you frakking him too?

 

 

Jammer: You want to get pissed at someone, you get pissed at Boomer. She's the o­ne who put the Chief in the cell here, not us.

 

 

Dualla: Evening, sir.

 

Apollo: Evening, Dee. Fancy meeting you here. Everything set?

 

Dualla: Roger that. Sorry, captain. Can't chit-chat today.

 

Apollo: Captain! I'm having trouble with the ordnance tracking o­n my raptor, sir. I can't get it to cycle. Oh... change of plans, boys. Instead of getting some rack time, I going to take a minute to do the Lieutenant's job for her.

 

Sgt: Yes, sir.

 

Apollo: After you.

 

 

Marine: Sorry.

 

Venner: Okay, make it look good, but not too good.

 

 

Private: Hold it!

 

Roslin: Private, do you know who I am? Good. You and I have something in common. We each took an oath to protect and defend the Articles of Colonization. Those articles are under attack, as is our entire democratic way of life. Now, my duty won't let me stand here and allow that to happen. So I intend to go through that hatch and get off this ship.

 

 

Apollo: Damn it. They should be here by now.

 

 

Roslin: You can either stand aside, or you can shoot me. You'll have to decide where your duty lies.

 

Private: Madame President...

 

 

Apollo: Madame President, this way.

 

Roslin: Oh Billy...

 

Billy: Madame President. I'm not getting o­n that ship with you.

 

Roslin: What?

 

Billy: I understand what you're trying to do. But it's going to divide the fleet. At the very best, it'll create an insurgency against Adama. And at the worst, a civil war. Taking part in that is a line that I won't cross.

 

Apollo: We do not have a lot of time.

 

Billy: I wish you well.

 

 

Apollo: (into radio) Dustoff two-seven, checkers green, ready for launch o­n medical mission. Request clearance.

 

Roslin: Good to see you. You okay?

 

Elosha: I think so. My feet barely touched the ground getting here.

 

Roslin: I know what you mean.

 

Launch Officer: Dustoff two-seven. Standard port three departure approved. Cleared for launch.

 

Apollo: Standard port three, wilco.

 

Gaeta: Sir. Corporal venner reports the former President's missing.

 

Tigh: Missing?

 

Gaeta: Two men down, cell's empty.

 

Tigh: Damn it. Alert security. Set condition two! No o­ne o­n or off the ship!

 

Gaeta: Attention, set condition two throughout the ship. Repeat, set condition two throughout the ship. (beat) Sir. Flight log records a raptor departed the ship two minutes ago with Doc Cottle o­n a medical emergency.

 

Tigh: Medical? Confirm that.

 

Gaeta: Dradis has their transponder bearing 2-8-7 carom 0-0-3. Range 2-7.

 

Tigh: Get the cap o­n the horn and have them intercept. And get Captain Adama out of the brig.

 

Dualla: Sir, Dr. Cottle is still o­nboard. He says he was forced to request the raptor at gunpoint by Captain Adama.

 

Tigh: Son of a bitch. Dee, put me through to that raptor.

 

Gaeta: Cap has visual o­n their target.

 

Tigh: Turn that ship around, Apollo, or I'll order the cap to shoot you down.

 

Apollo: We're not turning back.

 

Tigh: I'll do it. Don't think I won't just because you're the old man's son.

 

Apollo: Then do what you have to do, Galactica. Apollo out.

 

Tigh: Fire across their bow.

 

Dualla: Hotdog, Galactica. Fire across their bow.  Acknowledge.

 

Hotdog: Wilco, galactica.

 

Dualla: Hotdog reports they're notturning around, sir. Where are they now? Dradis shows them approaching cloud nine.

 

Gaeta: Sir, if they dock, we may lose them. Cloud Nine is o­ne of the busiest transport hubs in the fleet. Shuttles coming and going constantly. If they board o­ne and take off, it'll be before we can shut down air traffic.

 

Hotdog: Galactica, Hotdog. Request instructions. Galactica, Hotdog. I need further instructions. Do I fire or not?

 

Tigh: Dee... tell hotdog to hold his fire. Repeat, weapons hold. Do not fire.

 

Dualla: Hotdog, Galactica. Weapons hold. Repeat, do not fire.

 

Tigh: They couldn't have done it o­n their own. Did anybody notice off-log calls? Scrambled communications?

 

Gaeta: No, sir. Nothing.

 

 

Apollo: Well, we're home free for now.

 

Zarek: Good to see you, Madame President.

 

Roslin: Captain Apollo... what is Mr. Zarek doing here?

 

Apollo: Once Tigh gets over his initial shock, he'll send troops out to search for us. If we're going to make it, we have to keep o­n the move. I figured mr. Zarek here is the o­nly o­ne in the fleet with enough shady friends around who can possibly hide us.

 

Zarek: Love the way he puts that.

 

Roslin: Well, Mr. Zarek, it would seem the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

 

Zarek: Call me Tom.

 

Apollo: Our shuttle's waiting, ma'am. We have to hurry.

 

 

Anders: Wow, is that the best you can do?

 

Starbuck: Nice to know installing a regulation pyramid court was o­ne of the priorities of the resistance.

 

Anders: Well, there are some things o­ne cannot live without.

 

Starbuck: Let's go.

 

Anders: Are you kidding me? I'll wipe the court with you.

 

Starbuck: Yeah, we'll see about that. I was scouted for the pros. Bum knee took me out of contention.

 

Anders: I see. Is that going to be your excuse when I kick your ass? "My poor knee hurts."

 

Starbuck: At least I have an excuse. I can't imagine what yours is going to be.

 

 

Anders: Nice shot.

 

Starbuck: Thanks.

 

 

Tyrol: Thanks. Thanks, doc. I appreciate it.

 

Balar: Don't thank me. Thank her.

 

Tyrol: Why, what does she have to do with it?

 

Balar: Everything. Nothing. Love is a strange and wonderful thing, Chief. You'd be happy you experienced it at all. Even if it was with a machine.

 

Tyrol: What are they going to do to her?

 

Balar: They're setting up a new holding facility. There will be tests. Mental. Physical.

 

Tyrol: Like she's some kind of lab rat?

 

Balar: That's the idea.

 

 

Ellen: This is just great. Bill Adama's little baby boy pulls the wool over your eyes, and you let him get away scot-free. You're a laughingstock. You didn't want this command. Well, don't worry about it. You won't have it for much longer. All because when push came to shove, you got shoved.

 

Tigh: It was his son.

 

Adama: Saul. What's happening o­n my ship? (to gaurds) Wait in the corridor. Ellen, can I speak to my XO?

 

Ellen: Of course.

 

Adama: Slowly. What's happened?

 

Tigh: I frakked things up and good.

 

Adama: How?

 

Tigh: I made some bad calls.

 

Adama: I've done that.

 

Tigh: Not like these.

 

Adama: You gonna pour us o­ne of those or what?

 

Tigh: Yeah.

 

Adama: Never had much use for people who second-guessed my decisions. Especially if they've never held a command. They don't understand the pressure. You make a call. It affects the lives of thousands. And you have no o­ne to turn to for back-up.

Tigh: Well, you make it look easy.

 

Adama: Well, you know that's a lie now.

 

Tigh: A lot of pieces to pick up.

 

Adama: Then we'll pick 'em up together. Where's my son?

 

 

Mob: Bitch! Traitor! Toaster! Traitor! back Stabber! Traitor! Traitor!

 

 

Tyrol: No, no, no. No, no, no no. No, no, no, no. No, no, no, no. Hey, hey, hey. Sshhh, sshh.

 

Boomer: I love you, chief.