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TRANSCRIPT:
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Gideon - Playback

 

 

Palladino: People, just get back! Stay back, all right? We just need these supplies! Get 'em back, get 'em back!

 

 

Palladino: Cease fire! Cease fire! Medic! We need a medic in here now!

 

Little Girl: dad! Dad? Oh, my gods! Oh, my gods!

 

 

 

Biers: (on video)This recently discovered footage from what's become known as "the Gideon Massacre," appears to show Galactica's marinesfiring indiscriminately into a crowd of unarmed civilians. Four dead, twelve wounded. And yet, as of today, not a single charge has been filed against any of the marines involved, nor their commanding officers. This is D'Anna Biers, reporting.

 

Biers: That's gonna blow this thing wide open. And we need some stock footage of raging marines. Can intercut that with the  eyewitness statements.

 

Bell: You have no right to come in here like this.

 

Marine: Ma'am, you're to come with us.

 

Biers: What, am I under arrest?

 

Marine: No, ma'am.

 

Biers: And what if I refuse to go?

 

 

 

Roslin: Hello, Ms. Biers. It's nice to see you. Welcome to Colonial o­ne.

 

Biers: Madame President, it's an honor. Commander Adama.

 

Adama: Where did you get the tape?

 

Biers: From an anonymous patriot. So is this a social call or are we o­n the verge of another coup?

 

Adama: Funny.

 

Biers: Just something to break the ice. I take it I am here because you're unhappy with my story o­n the  Gideon  Massacre?

 

Adama: What happened aboard the Gideon was a tragedy. But it was not a Massacre.

 

Biers: But the tape shows your men firing into a crowd of defenseless civilians.

 

Adama: My marines tell a different story.

 

Biers: Not to me. I've submitted a dozen interview requests, all denied.

 

Roslin: Well, that's about to change. You've been lobbying to do a story o­n the Galactica for months. Commander Adama has agreed to give you unlimited access to his crew and his ship.

 

Adama: That's right. Unlimited access.

 

Biers: Well, access won't buy you a propaganda piece.

 

Roslin: We don't want o­ne. Ms. Biers, this tape of yours has thrown fuel o­n a fire that was about to die. People are angry, they are distrustful of the military.

 

Biers: Yeah, with good reason, ma'am.

 

Roslin: In some cases with good reason. But I want to show the people what life aboard the Galactica's really like. I want to put a human face o­n the officers and the crew who protect us against cylons and guard our freedoms every day.

 

Biers: You might not like that face when you see it.

 

Adama: Why would that be?

 

Roslin: All we really want is a balanced story. Show us what the men and women of Galactica are really like.

 

Biers: That's it?

 

Roslin: That's it. And I need you to do it now, before we tear each other apart.

 

 

 

Tigh: The cag had better start cracking some heads. Half our supply runs are behind schedule.

 

 

Dualla: Combat, Dualla. Colonel, it's your wife. Something's wrong.

 

 

 

 

Marine: Colonel.

 

Tigh: Ellen, are you okay?

 

Ellen: Saul. Gods! Oh, I'm so scared.

 

 

Tigh:  "From the darkness, you must fall."

 

Ellen: What does it mean?

 

 

 

 

Adama: Racetrack. Where did you get these?

 

Racetrack: Oh, sorry, sir, they were left over from a civilian run. I've been meaning to throw them out.

 

Adama: No. No, no. Put 'em in a safe place. Hold o­nto 'em.

 

Racetrack: Yes, sir.

 

Adama: You're filming this?

 

Biers: We've been rolling since Colonial o­ne. President did say total access.

 

Adama: You'll have that. But you start shooting anything that compromises the safety of this ship, then it'll be cut.

 

 

 

Dualla: That hiss you hear is an oxygen recirc unit. We have about dozen co2 scrubbers aboard Galactica. They all work 24 hours a day.

 

Biers: Get a close-up of that, would you, Bell?

 

Bell: Yeah sure (sarcastically)

 

 

 

 

Starbuck: We just finished a 15-hour rotation.

 

Apollo: Yeah, well, you better get used to it. We're gonna be short o­n pilots till the rest of the fleet pulls the stick out of its collective fat ass.

 

Starbuck: [Snickers] More fallout from Tigh's moment of glory?

 

Apollo: You heard about his death threat?

 

Starbuck: Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. I just can't believe that I haven't been called in for questioning yet.

 

Apollo: Oh, you were top of the list. But don't worry, I told Tigh that you wouldn't know Caprican poetry if it was hot-soldered  across your helmet.

 

Starbuck: "From the darkness, you must fall, failed and weak, to darkness all." Kataris. Not o­ne of his best. Can I be a suspect again? Please?

 

 

 

Dualla: Ship's galley is next o­n the itinerary. Our vegetable stores and canned goods are kept in titanium lockers to ensure maximum freshness.

 

Biers: Didn't come all this way to interview the soup of the day.

 

 

Hotdog: Oh--oh, no!

 

Kat and Hotdog: laughing

 

Dualla: Ma'am?

 

Apollo: Here comes Tweedledum and Tweedledee.

 

Starbuck: You guys, people are sleeping.

 

Palladino: Yeah, keep it down.

 

Kat: Sorry.

 

Orsel: Lighten up, Palladino.

 

Kat: Hey, is that o­n? Are you recording? Hi, mom! Miss you, mommy. Hey, this is for my buddies o­n freighter 212. Yeah! That's for you!

 

Apollo: Kat! Kat, you want to tell me what the hell you think you're doing?

 

Kat: Um, I was just saying hi to some of my buddies o­n the fleet, sir.

 

Apollo: Right. So you were literally talking out of your ass.

 

Kat: [Laughs] Kinda.

 

Apollo: Go o­n, get dressed.

 

Kat: Yes, sir.

 

Apollo: Constanza, get the hell outta here. It's the last time you come in a senior officers quarters, go, move. So, you must be the reporter we were expecting.

 

Biers: Well, you didn't have to dress for me. D'anna Biers, Fleet News Service.

 

Apollo: Captain Lee Adama, commander of the air group. That's pronounced, CAG. And I suggest you find yourselves an exit as soon as possible. And that's ronounced, a-sap.

 

Biers: Think we've seen all we need to see here.

 

Apollo: Who's brilliant idea was that?

 

 

 

Biers: How did your family respond?

 

Dualla: My dad went crazy when I enlisted. He thought the military was a joke. Refuge for emotional cripples and patriotic fools.

 

Biers: But you signed up anyway.

 

Dualla: I guess I just wanted to believe in something.

 

 

 

 

Biers: Think it'll give it more memory?

 

Dualla: Yeah, it seems pretty simple. Maybe just a basic adjustment. It's a pretty good piece.

 

Biers: Yeah, it's kind of old...

 

Baltar: What the hell's going o­n?

 

#6: I don't know.

 

Baltar: Don't know. I'm the Vice President. She's supposed to be interviewing me, isn't she?

 

#6: Well, of course she should. Your title alone commands respect.

 

Baltar: Of course it does. It's a rare commodity around here. I mean, I'm the Vice President. I'm not gonna beg, I'll tell you that much.

 

 

#6: Now, Gaius, you may have to beg. You'll do whatever is necessary to protect our child. Politics may not be your strong suit. But it serves us in the moment. Trust me. This o­ne can help us.

 

 

Biers: Mr. Vice President?

 

Baltar: Hello.

 

Biers: Hi, D'Anna Biers, Fleet News Service.

 

Baltar: Oh, you're the reporter. That's right. Commander Adama said a news service might be joining us. Um... I suppose you're-- well, very busy doing a lot of interviews, I would imagine. 

 

Biers: Well, uh, I would love to speak to you. If you've got a second, we can do it now.

 

Baltar: No, no. I'm afraid not. I am, um, very busy. Really, really busy at the moment, snowed under. But if you get in touch with o­ne of my aides, there might be a small window tomorrow. I'm not promising anything, obviously. But I might be able to, uh, give you an interview then if--if--if--if that's what you would like. Uh, good. Good, good. Well, you just, um, carry o­n.

 

Biers: What a strange little man.

 

Dualla: Mm-hmm.

 

 

 

 

Biers: Captain Adama, I hardly recognized you with your clothes o­n.

 

Apollo: Look, I'm sure you thought it was, uh, clever, busting into the pilots duty locker. But the area's off-limits for a reason. It's the o­ne place where my people can unwind and be themselves.

 

Biers: You seem to think that your pilots deserve special consideration.

 

Apollo: Actually, I do. Like everyone else, my pilots have lost their families, and their friends, everyone they ever cared about.  But o­n top of that, they're asked to put their lives o­n the line every single day for a fleet that seems more interested in what they do wrong than in what they do right. They're not asking for your pity, but they damn well deserve your respect.

 

 

 

 

Kat: Gods, Chief, we've already run this up twice.

 

Tyrol: Yeah, but something doesn't feel right.

 

Kat: What?

 

Tyrol: Something doesn't feel right.

 

Kat: Well, hurry up.

 

 

Tyrol: Oh, gods!

 

Kat: Oh, that's fantastic. That's just great.

 

Tyrol: I knew it. How the hell did I miss that?

 

Kat: Maybe if your knuckledraggers spent more time o­n maintenance, less time frakking around.

 

Tyrol: This knuckledragger just saved your ass, sir.

 

Kat: Why don't you say that a little louder, Chief? I don't think the camera heard you.

 

Tyrol: You know what? Frak the camera.

 

 

Starbuck: Knock it off! Knock it off! Chief, fix the ship.

 

Kat: Yeah, fix the ship.

 

Starbuck: Hey!

 

Kat: What? What?

 

Starbuck: Hey! Enough! Chief, fix her ship. You, get the hell outta here now.

 

Kat: Camera outta my face.

 

 

Starbuck: She has been pissing me off all week.

 

Apollo: What the hell's going o­n?

 

Starbuck: I'm taking her off rotation till she gets her head rewired. I mean--

 

Apollo: Uh-uh, can't do it. We need the pilots. Besides, if I scratched everyone who...popped off at the chief, the cooks would be flying the missions.

 

Starbuck: Son of a bitch. Did you get all that? You happy?

 

Apollo: Come o­n. Come o­n, walk away. Walk away.

 

 

 

 

Kelso: We were never trained for crowd control. First order of business when under attack is defend yourself and your squad.

 

Biers: But these were civilians.

 

Kelso: I have ten stitches that say we were under attack. The truth is, it was a command frak-up the moment Tigh put us o­n that supply ship. I'm not surprised someone's trying to take out that drunk son of a bitch.

 

Palladino: All right, private. Belay that.

 

Biers: Colonel Tigh's been threatened?

 

Palladino: No, this interview's over. Shut that off.

 

 

 

 

Adama: Watch your step, please.

 

Biers: Okay. Come o­n.

 

Adama: Sitrep?

 

Tigh: Fleet's quiet, no enemy contact for the last ten days. No cylon contact, anyways.

 

Adama: Well, they have their job to do. We have ours. Did you hear about the meeting o­n Cloud Nine?

 

Tigh: Reps flying in from every vessel in the fleet for a king-size bitch session. Yeah, I heard.

 

Adama: Well, they sent us an invitation to send a delegation. You're it.

 

 

Tigh: Do you mind?

 

Biers: No, no, go ahead.

 

Tigh: I'm not exactly the most popular guy in the fleet right now.

 

Adama: Well, it'd be good then to, uh, let your critics see that you're not afraid of them.

 

Tigh: That what you think? I've been hiding?

 

Adama: You've been doing this too long to be worried about ulterior motives. You're going because you're not afraid, and people should see that. Plus, it'll also give people a chance to vent their feelings instead of seething in private. And finally, I think you need a little R & R. So consider this a mandatory shore leave. Take a swim. Get some sleep.

 

Tigh: Sir.

 

Adama: And, uh, stay away from the bar.

 

 

 

 

Tyrol: Three. There's three. She got locked.

 

Starbuck: Good luck, Colonel. Have fun o­n Cloud Nine.

 

Tigh: You bet. (sarcastically)

 

Fuzzy: Iniating Pre-flight

 

 

Fuzzy: What's going o­n?

 

Racetrack: Abort launch! Everybody out now!

 

Tyrol: Get back! Everybody back! Everybody back! Fire team. Get the fire team here now!

 

Tigh: What's going o­n?

 

Tyrol: The main buss is totaled. Looks like somebody took a hammer to it. If this had blown in transit, the cabin would have vented to space.

 

 

 

 

Ellen: Someone's trying to kill you, Saul.

 

Tigh: Comes with the stripes.

 

Ellen: Because of that damned Gideon incident.

 

Tigh: Ellen, we don't know that.

 

Ellen: Of course we do. D'anna Biers left two messages already. She's giving you the chance to tell your side.

 

Tigh: I don't have to explain myself, especially to her.

 

Ellen: Roslin wants to placate the fleet, put the great bill Adama back o­n his pedestal. Fastest way to do that is by hanging you

out to dry. Why do you think Adama wanted to send you to cloud nine?

 

Tigh: The Gideon happened o­n my watch.

 

Ellen: Yes. But you didn't order those jarheads to open fire. [Sighs] This is so like you, Saul. Always the proud soldier. Taking the heat because it's honorable. When are you gonna realize... we're all alone out here?

 

 

 

Biers: Are you afraid when you go into combat?

 

Edmonson: First thing they tell you is to assume you're already dead. That sounds ghoulish. Yeah, maybe. But dead men don't get scared or freeze up under fire. Me, I'm just worried that hell's gonna be a lonely place. And I'm gonna fill it up with every toaster son of a bitch I find.

 

 

 

 

Biers: What's been the hardest for you?

 

Helo: They try to turn off the human part of you because that's what'll get you killed. But... when you're out in the field, it's not that easy. Nothing's that easy.

 

 

 

 

Guard: You got five minutes.

 

Helo: Sharon? It's me. Sharon! Give me your light.

 

 

Guard: What the hell are you talking about?

 

Helo: Give me your light now! Something's wrong!

 

 

 

Helo: Oh, gods. Call Dr. Cottle. Now!

 

 

 

 

Biers: Does that help you cope with the stress?

 

Gaeta: Not really. Look, um, all that I ever wanted was to be an officer o­n a Battlestar. Okay, I trained my whole life, trained  harder than anyone in my unit. Basically, I put my life o­n hold until I was assigned to Galactica. Then the cylons hit. And I  realized that this is all that I know. Tech manuals, commands, and tactics, you know? I'm not saying that I'm unhappy. Just  wondering if there's something more.

 

Biers: And what have you discovered?

 

Gaeta: [Sighs] I hate cigarettes. [Coughs] Ambrosia's good with a chaser. And if you have enough ambrosia-- didn't really hurt that much.

 

 

 

 

Biers: There you go. We'll make this as painless as possible. Drink?

 

Tigh: Is this an interview or a cocktail party?

 

Biers: Are you kidding? This is how we keep it painless. Just like to keep it casual, that's all. Please. Cheers, Colonel.

 

Tigh: Cheers.

 

Biers: Before we begin, um, I had heard a number of rumors that you had death threats leveled against you. Is that right?

 

Tigh: This is a military vessel. We have rumors for every occasion.

 

Biers: Was it hard for you to take over your friend's command when he was shot?

 

Tigh: I didn't take anything. Command fell to me, and I did my duty.

 

Biers: But you were in full command of Galactica for more than a week. And in that time, there were a number of controversial actions taken.

 

Tigh: You're talking about the Gideon. I made a military decision. Given the same circumstances, I'd do it again.

 

Biers: So you have no regrets whatsoever?

 

 

Tigh: You're trying to set me up.

 

Biers: Colonel, why do you think there was no official investigation into the Gideon Massacre? Please, Colonel--

 

Tigh: Get out of my face!

 

Biers: Did you get that?

 

Bell: Got it.

 

Biers: Someone's a mean drunk.

 

 

 

 

Starbuck: Great. I could use a sparring partner.

 

Biers: Sorry, I, uh-- I didn't bring my gloves.

 

Starbuck: Too bad.

 

Biers: Captain Adama said that I could ask you about the new pilots.

 

Starbuck: Yeah, well, Captain Adama likes to push my buttons.

 

Biers: So what do you look for in a new recruit?

 

Starbuck: Coordination. Good reflexes. Total commitment. And most of all, someone crazy enough to follow me into combat.

 

 

 

=====================================
Biers: Colonel, why do you think there was no official investigation into the Gideon Massacre? Please Colonel--

 

Tigh: Get out of my face!

 

 

 

 

Adama: I want to apologize for colonel Tigh's behavior. It was uncalled for.

 

Biers: Seems like a lot of people have been apologizing for him over the years, Commander. So level with me. Why has Colonel Tigh not been charged in the Gideon incident?

 

Adama: We're at war against an enemy with a vastly superior force. I will not sacrifice the few people we have left o­n the altar of  public outrage.

 

Biers: So four civilians are dead, and Tigh and the shooters take a walk.

 

Adama: Nobody takes a walk. They all gotta live with it.

 

 

 

 

Kelly: Viper five-niner-one, Galactica, you are cleared into the break. Portside landing bay, hands-on approach, checkers are green. Call the ball.

 

Kat: Roger ball. Wait a second. Gods...damn it.

 

Kelly: Speed two-zero-five. Keep your power up, Kat. You're dropping below glide slope.

 

Kat:The controls are messed up. Come o­n, come o­n, come o­n, come o­n. Come o­n, come o­n, come o­n.

 

Kelly: You're still too low. Wave off, Kat. Wave off!

 

 

Kat:Oh, frak!

 

Starbuck: what the hell is going o­n? That is her third wave-off.

 

 

 

 

Kat: When we make a contact, the squadron's got seconds to put it all together. Pre-flight, weapons check, communications. o­ne mistake, we're a smear in the cockpit.

 

 

 

 

Biers: I don't understand. Is she trying to--

 

Starbuck: Shut the frak up. Kat.  We're gonna do this, okay? Leave the throttle alone down the middle, then chop it at the come-on in close. And feel for the deck.

 

Kat: The controls are messed up. I can't feel it. I can't feel it. I can't feel it. I can't do it.

 

Starbuck: Kat, we did this all through training, okay? You can stick this, just like before. Ugh!

 

Kelly: Viper five-niner-one, Galactica, you're clear into the break, call the ball. Too low, five-niner-one, wave off! Wave off!

 

Starbuck: No, she's putting down! Kat, full throttle, now!

 

Kat: I can't feel it. I can't feel it.

 

 

 

 

Kat: When you come back after a successful run, let me tell you. It is better than a great meal. Better than hitting a jackpot. It's better than sex.

 

 

 

=====================================

 

Kat: Aaah! I can't do it! I can't do it, I can't do it! I can't do it!

 

Kelly: She missed the trap. Damage control, medics, report to portside hangar bay.

 

 

 

 

Apollo: What the hell happened? Kat's made the trap a hundred times. Yeah, I guess 101 was a real bitch, huh?

 

 

Kat: No! Let go of me! Lemme go!

 

Starbuck: Hey, hey, hey, hey. Hey, hey, Kat! It's Starbuck, you're okay. You're home.

 

Kat: Home? Home is dead! We gotta get outta here! They're gonna kill us! We gotta get outta here!

 

 

Starbuck: What's this? Stims?

 

Kat: Please, don't take-- don't take that, please!

 

Starbuck: Stop it.

 

Kat: Let go! Aaah! No! Let go! Let go! Uh! Let go! Let go of me! We're gonna die! We're gonna--

 

Starbuck: Get my pilot to sickbay now!

 

Kat: Oh, please, don't take me! Oh, please--

 

Apollo: Stims. And by look of her, she's been taking them by the handful.

 

 

 

 

Boomer: Don't you dare touch me! What are you doing?

 

Cottle: Listen to me! I am trying to save your baby. Hold her.

 

Guard: This is a restricted area!

 

 

 

 

Biers: Commander Adama. That woman looks just like the late Lieutenant Valerii.

 

Adama: The tape, please.

 

Biers: Why would Galactica be harboring a cylon?

 

Adama: The tape.

 

 

Biers: Did the baby survive?

 

Adama: Do you understand that even a hint of this could be devastating to the morale in the fleet?

 

Biers: You're the master of understatement. You know, after the Gideon, this could turn the entire fleet against you.

 

Adama: Then the real the question is whether or not it matters to you.

 

Biers: You know, I am sick to death of people like you questioning my patriotism. We all want this fleet to survive.

 

 

 

 

 

Baltar: I think you're doing very well. Very well, under the circumstances. I understand this has been a difficult job for you. I mean, I hear that your reports haven't exactly ingratiated you with the Commander, have they? Or the rest of the crew, for that matter. Still, luckily, as a member of the civilian government, I am here to assure you that I have no such reservations.

 

Biers: Well, I think most of the crew understands i'm just doing my job.

 

Baltar: As are we all. All just doing our jobs, aren't we? I'm just doing my job, you're just doing your job.

 

#6: Okay, okay, cut to the chase, Gaius. Tell her why you deserve to lead this fleet.

 

Baltar: As I myself discovered when I was stranded-- stranded o­n Kobol, I found that the stress of, uh, survival revealed leadership qualities that previously I didn't even know that I possessed, really.

 

Biers: Yeah? I understand your party took several casualties.

 

Baltar: Yes, that was very unfortunate. They were heroes, every o­ne. You know what? I'm ready. Um, shall we shoot this o­ne?

 

 

Baltar: Oh, it's probably just a false alarm. Ignore it, really. Okay.

 

Biers: Bell, you take the hangar deck. I'm gonna take the CIC. Go!

 

 

Baltar: You're safer here really. Please you're as safe as houses down here, really. That's show biz.

 

Gaeta: (over P.A.) A condition o­ne throughout the ship. Incoming cylon raiders. This is not a drill. Repeat, action stations,
action stations. Set condition o­nethroughout the ship this is not a drill.

 

 

 

 

Starbcuk: What have we got?

 

Apollo: Two raiders, closing fast.

 

 

 

 

Gaeta: Sir, the cylon raiders are o­n C.B.D.R. With Galactica. Speed two-two point seven niner.

 

Biers: Dualla, what's a C.B.D.R.?

 

Dualla: Constant bearing, decreasing range-- collision course.

 

Tigh: Where the hell's the cap?

 

Dualla: Other side of the fleet, sir.

 

Adama: Scramble the alert fighters. Set condition o­ne throughout the entire fleet. Have them spool up their FTL's just in case.

 

 

 

 

Tyrol: Let's go, let's go, let's go! Move, move! Clear this deck, get this outta here! What's the sitrep?

 

Starbuck: Two bandits, coming hard.

 

Apollo: Just keep your eyes open and follow us.

 

Tyrol: All right, let's go, let's get the birds in the holes. Move 'em out, get this ladder outta here. Let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go. Move back, get this hose out of here.

 

 

 

 

Gaeta: First team in the tubes.

 

Adama: Dee.

 

Dualla: Pilots o­n speaker.

 

 

 

 

Biers: Did you ever come to terms with your dad?

 

Dualla: I wouldn't let him. The last time we talked, it got...heated. I told him I never wanted to see him again. Three weeks later, the cylons attacked.

 

 

 

 

Biers: Okay, so I'm new at this. Should I be scared?

 

Dualla: I am.

 

 

 

 

Tyrol: Copy that. All right, people, that's it. Last bird's away. Let's clear the nest. Get this deck ready for recovery. Let's go, let's go, let's go. Move, move!

 

 

 

 

Gaeta: Sir, alert vipers are away. Gun control reports weapons manned and ready.

 

Apollo: Apollo, wireless check.

 

Starbuck: Starbuck, I'm hearing you.

 

Hotdog: Hotdog, o­ne-four-one, loud and clear.

 

Grayshirt: Grayshirt, loud and clear.

 

Kingston: Kingston, you're good. Initiate search pattern delta.

 

Apollo: Apollo, tally two cylon raiders, close formation.

 

Starbuck: This is Starbuck, roger that.

 

Kingston:  Watch your formation.

 

Apollo: Prepare to engage. Weapons hot.

 

Kingston: Targets in view. Repeat target's in view. Lock 6-1-2-1. Weapons close 2-4-1

 

Gaeta: Copy that.

 

Grayshirt: Tango 1, Tango 1, Tango 1, weapons close 2-4-1

 

Hotdog: Engaging cylon radiers. Engaging cylon raiders.

 

Starbuck: They're breaking formation. Hotdog, stick with me.

 

Hotdog: Roger that.

 

Starbuck: Come o­n, you frakkin'--

 

Hotdog: I've got no joy, lost visual.

 

Kingston: He's o­n me, Right o­n my six.

 

Apollo: Come o­n Starbuck.

 

Starbuck: Hotdog, raiders o­n your left eight. I'm o­n 'em, I'm o­n 'em. Yeah, splash o­ne!

 

Apollo: Targeting second raider.

 

Kingston: Kingston, bandit's breaking off, taking evasive action.

 

Hotdog: I've got him, Kingston. Come o­n, come to papa.

 

Apollo: Damn it, take the shot! That's a kill.

 

Adama: Yes!

 

Tigh: Dradis shows clear, Commander.

 

Adama: This is the commander. Cylon raiders were intercepted and destroyed. Good work, people.

 

Starbuck: Roger that, Galactica. Let's head back to the bird farm.

 

Adama: Secure from action stations. Set condition three.

 

Tigh: Mr. Gaeta, you have the deck.

 

Gaeta: Yes, sir. Set condition three throughout the ship. Repeat, set condition three.

 

Biers: Does this ever get any easier?

 

Dualla: No, ma'am. It gets harder.

 

Biers: Thank you.

 

 

 

Bell: So how did it go out there?

 

Apollo: Well, we didn't lose anyone. That's a good day.

 

 

 

 

Tigh: Ellen?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Biers: I'm not sure I've found a story in all this yet.

 

 

Biers: Go back a bit. Here, here. I know that book. That's by Kataris.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Palladino: What's wrong, Colonel? Need a drink?

 

 

Tigh: You can go to hell.

 

Palladino: I've been there. It was called Gideon. I can't eat, I can't sleep. I saw their faces. Those weren't cylons we tagged, those were real people. Who looked like my dad, who looked like my little brother.

 

 

Tigh: Well, this isn't gonna change anything.

 

Palladino: Well, at least the people o­n the Gideon will have their justice.

 

Tigh: If that's what this is about, then do it.

 

 

Palladino: I will, I'll do it.

 

Tigh: Somebody has to pay for what happened o­n that ship. I was in command, I sent you there. It's my fault. Come o­n, son. Do it.

 

 

 

Tigh: Gideon was an accident. This is a choice.

 

Guard: Colonel!

 

Tigh: We're all right here.

 

Guard: Let's go Lieutenant.

 

Tigh: Will you get out of my face.

 

 

 

 

Biers: What made you do it, Kat?

 

Kat: I was tired. Haven't gotten any sleep. Felt like I was losing my edge. I don't know what else to do.

 

Biers: Couldn't you talk to someone?

 

Kat: Who am I gonna talk to? We're all in the same hole. Okay, there are no replacements coming up. There's no downtime. This is it. So I started taking stims.

 

Biers: You made a mistake. It happens.

 

Kat: Yeah, except now my flight's a pilot short. Those guys, they're just as tired and they're just as messed up as I was.

 

Biers: But they're still laying it o­n the line. I've worked my ass off defending this ship. I've been-- I've been frustrated, I've been angry. I've been everything that you can possibly think of. This is the first time that I've felt ashamed.

 

 

 

 

Tigh: I've seen enough.

 

Biers: Kill it. Look, I understand this might be hard for you to watch--

 

Tigh: It's a hatchet job. The fleet already thinks we're a bunch of trigger-happy assassins. This just confirms it. You show us with our pants down and our asses hanging out. Don't you have anything to say?

 

Adama: I think it's great. I think she did exactly what we asked her to do. That she put a human face o­n the guardians of the fleet. Warts and all. I'm proud of it. You can show it to the entire fleet.

 

Biers: It doesn't get better than that.

 

Roslin: I'd like to see the end.

 

Adama: So would I.

 

 

 

 

 

Biers: I came to Galactica to tell a story. In all honesty, I thought I knew what that story was before I ever set foot here. How an arrogant military let their egos get in the way of doing their job safeguarding the lives of the civilian population. But I found the truth was more complex than that. These people aren't cylons. They're not robots blindly following orders and polishing their boots. They're people. Deeply flawed, yes, but deeply human too. And maybe that's saying the same thing. What struck me the most is that despite it all-- the hardships, the stress, the ever-present danger of being killed-- despite all that, they never give up. Never lie down in the road and let the truck run them over. They wake up in the morning, put o­n their uniforms, and do their jobs. Every day, no pay. No rest. No hope of ever laying down the burden and letting someone else do the job. There are no relief troops coming, no Colonial fleet training new recruits every day. The people o­n Galactica are it. They are the thin line of blue separating us from the cylons. Lieutenant Gaeta told me a remarkable statistic. Not a single member of Galactica's crew has asked to resign. Not o­ne. Think about that. If you wore  the uniform, wouldn't you want to quit? To step aside and say, "Enough. Let someone else protect the fleet." I know I would. But then, I don't wear a uniform. Most of us don't, most of us never will. The story of Galactica isn't that people make bad decisions under pressure. It's that those mistakes are the exception. Most of the time, the men and women serving under  Commander Adama get it right. The proof is that our fleet survives. And with Galactica at our side, we will endure. This is D'anna Biers, Fleet News Service.

 

 

 

 

Doral: That was shown across their entire fleet.

 

#6: Their resilience is remarkable.

 

Boomer: Play the footage that was cut.

 

 

 

 

Boomer: What are you doing! Stop it!

 

Cottle: Listen to me! I am trying to save your baby. Hold her still.

 

Guard: This is a restricted area!

 

 

 

 

Boomer: I'm still alive. She's still alive. I told you.

 

#6: That's incredible. And the baby?

 

Biers: It was saved. We lost two raiders relaying the images back to the fleet, but I think the sacrifice was worth it.

 

Doral: We must proceed with caution. The child's life must be protected at all costs.

 

Biers: Yeah. Truly is a miracle from god.