All language subtitles for Battlestar.Galactica.Blood.and.Chrome

Dear Dad,

in your last letter,
you questioned whether

it's my responsibility
to join this fight.

The truth is

we all became responsible
the day we created the Cylons.

We're the ones who let these
robots become our servants,

our trusted helpers
and even our friends.

We let them into our lives,

only to see them
repay our trust

with a violent revolt
against us.

I know there's a lot of
debate about why they hate us.

But in the end,
does it really matter?

Kill the enemy or be killed.

That's a reality.

In a war where mankind's very
survival hangs in the balance,

it's up to each of us
to make a difference.

Being a pilot is the best
way I know how to do that.

Your loving son,
William Adama.

Hold still,
you toaster bastards.

Watch out, hotshot,
got a bandit on your 6.

That's fine,
just adds to the challenge.

Come on, kid,
break off! Break off!

No way! I got this!

Come on. Come on.

Yeah!

Frak. I can't see.

You got no visibility, kid.
Get out of there.

Watch your back, kid,
he's coming around again.

There we go. Much better.

What, are you crazy, Ensign?
Return to base.

You can't take that kind
of radiation exposure.

You'll die in
less than 30 seconds.

Twenty seconds
and counting.

You're approaching
radiation exposure max.

Frak, my gun's jammed.

You only have
12 seconds left.

Frak that.

Okay. Game over.

Are you crazy?
You can't fire your...

Yeah!

Deal with it, sucker!

Come on. Tell me
that ain't a record.

Congratulations, Ensign.
You have completed Level 6.

- Good sim score?
- No, no.

Not a good sim score.
The top sim score.

Mmm.
I'm impressed.

Thanks. I'd be,
if I were you.

Look out, Jenna,
we've got a live one.

Let me guess, you're
fresh out of the Academy,

you've been itching to fly Vipers
since you were in short pants,

but your only worry now
is that the war will be over

before you get a chance to prove
what a bona fide ace you are.

Congratulations. You got me pegged,
except for the worrying part.

I don't do that.

Oh, look at
the pair on you.

Was that a request?

No.

No. Don't get your hopes up, rook.
You're not my type.

No? Good.
So it's a date.

- Easy. Down, boy.
- Oh, man.

You're a real charger,
aren't you, rook?

Thank you.

You looking
for some action?

There's the girl that's gonna give it to you.

Godsdamn!

Yo, rook, you're
blocking traffic.

Sorry.

That's Deke Tornvald.

"The Minute Man."

Heard of him, huh?

Heard of him?
He was, like, my hero at the Academy.

What's he got now,
like 30 kills?

Better hurry or there won't
be any left for you, ace.

McGavin.

Back just in time.
Suit up. Briefing in 30.

- Another snowball patrol, sir?
- Yeah.

What's this? Fresh meat?

Ensign William Adama,
reporting for flight duty, sir.

If there's a mission,
I'd like to be part of it.

Good. Papers.

At ease.

You're FOB, Ensign.

Sure you don't want to
find your rack first?

Respectfully, sir, I signed on
to kill toasters, not take naps.

Just point me at my plane
and I'll get started.

All right, Ensign,

I'm assigning you to the Weasel.
She's right over there.

She's beautiful, sir.

Not the Viper, rook.
The bird behind her.

That old flying
pillbox, sir?

It's a Raptor. That's the designation
and you're qualified.

- No, sir, there has to be some kind...
- Respectfully.

Respectfully, sir,
there is a mistake.

I did not rate top of my
class so I could drive a bus.

I'm a Viper pilot.

Congratulations.

I'll break it down
for you like this.

The brass makes it seem like Operation
Clean Sweep lived up to its name,

but somebody forgot to
give the toasters that memo.

They're taking down our
planes right and left.

And right now I need Raptor drivers
more than I need Viper jocks.

So make sure your bus
is ready for action.

- Is that clear?
- Yes, sir.

Good.

Dismissed.

Oh.

Oh!

- I am so sorry.
- Frak!

I'm sorry.

I just finished mucking
this whole thing out!

I'm sorry. I didn't
see what was going on. I'm sorry.

Yeah, of course you didn't
because you weren't looking!

What are you
doing in here?

Are you with
the godsdamn press tour?

No.

I'm William Adama.
I was just assigned to fly this bird

so I came
to get acquainted.

You?

- You're my new driver?
- Yeah.

They sent me a rook
fresh off the boat? Great.

Guess you must be
my new co-pilot.

Not if I can do something
about it, I'm not.

I want new gyros on there this
time or I will be pissed off.

I'm working
on it, Lieutenant.

Here, let me help
you with all this.

Just leave it.
Just leave it.

I said leave it alone.

Fasjovik?

Frak. You gotta call me
something, call me Coker.

Just don't get too
familiar with it.

Okay.

So, Coker,
who was your last pilot?

Just mopping up
what's left of him.

Frakking knuckle-draggers.

Poor bastard.
Who the frak signs up for a third tour?

Hey, look, I'm sorry
about your friend.

He wasn't my frakking friend!
He was an asshole.

And he was worth
10 huskers like you!

Lieutenant Fasjovik and Ensign
Adama, please report to the CO.

Briefing call.

Here we go again.

Just listen real good and try
not to get us killed, okay, rook?

And you better clean up.
This ain't one of your barnyard tractor pulls.

Um,
I'm from Caprica City.

Yeah, tell that to someone who cares, Husker.

You gonna offer
the Commander a drink?

- What?
- Flask.

Frak.

Let's go.

Sir.

Mr. Fasjovik.

Forty-seven days left
in your mandatory second tour.

Planning on re-upping?

Not if I get
a say in it, sir.

Hard to part with an experienced
officer, but that's your call.

- Clean up that image.
- Yes, sir.

Ensign William Adama.

Caprican, but with some very
interesting Tauron family connections.

The Ha'la'tha?

Can't see that my family has
anything to do with this mission, sir.

Relax, son. I'd never judge a man
on his father's sins.

Or merits.

Your grades at the Academy
weren't exactly stellar,

but your flight instructor says
you were a "natural." I quote,

"One of the best pilot
candidates I have ever seen.

"And unfortunately,
he knows it."

You're a cocky son of a
bitch, aren't you, Ensign?

Yes, you are.

So is this an accurate assessment, son?
Are you a natural?

I can fly a plane, sir.

A "natural,"
I can't say.

- Is that mine, Mr. Sig?
- Yes, sir.

Thank you.

We are 10 years
into a bad war, son,

so now this is how I handle
cocky sons of bitches on my ship.

I assign them to milk runs
until they cool down.

Your orders.

Something funny,
Mr. Fasjovik?

Not at all, sir.

You boys are going to take some
cargo to the Scorpion shipyards.

You are going to
return with spare parts.

Four-day round trip.

I'd assign a jump-capable
ship if I could afford one,

but I cannot, so your sorry-ass
Raptor will have to do.

Above all, you are to
avoid any enemy contact.

That includes Cylon ships,
SAMs, slingshots,

and anything else they might happen
to have floating around out there.

- Understood?
- Yes, sir.

Gentlemen,
do not frak this up.

Come on. "Milk run"?

I said I didn't
want to drive a bus,

now he's got me driving
a frakking delivery truck.

Hell, yeah. Only thing better
is if he'd make it

a regular trip, say for the
next, I don't know, month or so.

- You're really getting out?
- Like a shot, kid.

And go back to what? Where?

Who cares? As long as it's
far away from here.

Excuse me, Captain?

Captain Tornvald? Sir?

Sir, I just wanted to say

I've been
following your record

since you first
joined the Squadron.

Someday I hope to be
haIf the pilot you are.

I'll let you in on
a little secret, kid.

It's bullshit. All of it.

It was awesome.

And then I think he's gonna
bust us down and he says,

"You know what I do? I'm gonna
send you on a godsdamn milk run."

That's it.

We're going out. It's gonna be two
days out, two days back.

So what,
you gonna lay over?

Hell, yeah,
I'm gonna lay over.

They got real
booze over there.

Not like this
watered-down pruno.

So it sounds like you two booked
a bona fide pleasure cruise.

Yeah, but tell that
to the young, dumb

and itching to get his
ass shot off over there.

He's still
crying his eyes out.

What do you expect,
Coker?

Our young thane just wants
to make a name for himself.

Isn't that
why we're here?

Huh? Kill the enemy?

Destroy the frakking machines
before they destroy us.

Hoorah.

Kid, we all know
why we're here.

Just don't be in
such a rush, okay?

I think that's my towel.

See anything
you like, rook?

Hydraulic reservoir?

Full. Cap secure.

Front dradis antenna?

Almost.

So, Ha'la'tha.

My dad's a lawyer.

Yeah?

- Mob lawyer?
- Defense attorney.

Uh-huh.

What's it to you?

Just saying, seems to me
you could've wrangled

a pass on this whole
fracas pretty easy.

Is that what you would've done?
Found a way out of the war?

All I'm saying, Husker,
is nobody gave me a choice.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

What the hell is this?

Your ordnance package,
what's it look like?

Well, it looks
a little light to me.

I see a full set of com drones,
missile decoys, and what, two Archers?

Yeah, we're short
on air-to-airs.

Ordnance chief says two,
so two's what you get.

You got a problem,
take it up with him.

Yeah, I'll
take it up with him.

I'm more concerned
with our cargo.

Can we at least
get an exact weight?

Why don't you
ask it yourself?

Tiu,
she's our cargo?

- Hey.
- Hey.

- We already met, right? In the...
- Oh, yeah.

- In the shower.
- In the shower.

You're a pilot?

Uh, civilian.
I'm a software engineer.

I'm Bill Adama,
your pilot.

It's nice to meet you.

Welcome aboard, anyway.
Like I said, I'm Bill Adama, your pilot.

This is my co-pilot
and ECO,

Lieutenant...

Coker. Coker's fine.

You look kind of young for a pilot.
Are you any good?

So they tell me.

You believe
everything they tell you?

Why don't we get going?

Assuming this piece of
shit can actually fly.

Raptor Niner-zero-niner,
you are cleared for departure.

Good afternoon, this is
your Captain, Bill Adama.

Our flight time to Scorpion
is approximately two days,

during which we hope to
encounter absolutely nothing.

Fortunately, you'll find a wide
range of fine holoband entertainments

to help you pass the time.

For now, please remain seated with
your seatbelt securely fastened

and thank you once again for
flying Wild Weasel Airlines.

- Like that, huh?
- Lovely.

You're wasting your charms,
such as they are.

- I know her type.
- Yeah? What type is that?

As far as she's concerned,
we're just the hired help. Oh, hello.

Are we still in dradis
range of Galactica?

- No.
- No.

Good. If you'll open this,
you'll find a new set of orders.

Give me that.

- What the hell is this?
- Open it and you'll find out.

These are from
the Admiralty.

As you can see, it specifies
a new set of coordinates

for a rendezvous with the
heavy cruiser Archeron.

No, no, no, no, no. That is two days in
the wrong direction, lady.

That is Sector 12. That is right on the edge
of Cylon-controlled space.

No, there's no way we're going
to make it out of there alive.

No, no, no. There's no frakking
way this is right.

- I'm calling Galactica.
- No, you're not.

- Excuse me?
- The orders specify wireless silence.

That means no contact
with Galactica

or any other
Colonial ship or outpost.

It also states that you are
both to follow my orders.

So let's get started.

We have a lot of
space to cover.

What are you grinning at?

Milk run?

Milk run, my ass.

Damn it.

Having trouble
with your band?

Yeah.

Let me have a look.

You know how to...

You know how
to fix them?

I used to work for the
company that designed them.

You worked for
Graystone Industries?

I worked on Cylons.

I designed the upgrade
on their MCP chip.

- That's their brain.
- Their brain, I know.

So in other words, you helped improve
the machines that are killing us.

Hey.

Better get up here.

We're approaching
the rendezvous coordinates.

Husker?

- Dradis?
- Clear.

Here we go.

Colonial transponder.
Good.

Hold on.

I'm reading
multiple signatures.

Maybe Archeron
has support ships.

Then where the hell
are their transponders?

Something's wrong
with this picture.

Break radio silence
and hail them.

Archeron, this is Raptor Niner-zero-niner.
Acknowledge and respond.

Try again.

Archeron, this is
Raptor Niner-zero-niner.

Acknowledge and respond.

Gods!

Is that Archeron?

Got your answer?

Okay, get back there and sit down.
Strap yourseIf in. Now.

This is unbelievable.

Must've
been an ambush.

Nobody could've
survived this.

I've got three enemy contacts.
Incoming!

Whoa!

I got one Raider inbound
on our starboard side.

Visual.
Where are the other two?

I don't know. Targeting.

Damn it! Auto-targeting
is not responding. I can't get a lock!

Can you get the helmets,
please?

Switch to manual.

- Switch it to manual.
- You don't understand.

We're not to engage the enemy!

The godsdamn enemy
engaged us, lady,

and we can't outrun
them in this bird.

Thank you.

Come on.

Visual. We've got our second bandit
incoming. Straight ahead.

We're locked on. Firing.

Where's that third Raider?

Visual, 3 o'clock.

Fire.

- What's going on?
- Of all the frakked up...

- What happened?
- It's all good. We're all right.

Two bandits,
no missiles.

Now I really
don't like the math.

Where the frak
are you going?

We can't
stay out in open space.

I thought
we couldn't outrun them.

We can't. Maybe this will
slow them down.

The frakking thing's jammed!

Let's go to plan B.

There's a plan B?

The fuselage is
still largely intact,

so there's a good chance
the jump drive will be, too.

What the hell are
you talking about?

We're gonna thread the needle.
Let's see if the toaster can follow.

One, two, three.

Husker.

- One...
- Are you counting?

No, Husker.

One, two...

No, no, no,
don't try it!

No, Husker, no!
You're not gonna make it.

This is what we do!

Yeah!

Not bad, Husker.

Stupid,

but not bad.

Let's get our asses home.

No arguments there.

- You okay?
- I'm all right.

Good.

Don't worry. We'll get you back to
Galactica safe and sound. All right?

We can't go back.

Not yet, anyway.

I'm sorry. What?

I need you to send a simple
hail on that frequency.

Lady, our orders were to get
you here and that job is done.

Your orders are to do as I say
so long as I'm aboard this ship.

They are.

All right? They are.

Send the message.

Sure.

Let's just let
every toaster ship

in the sector know
exactly where we are.

Clever. I like it.

What the frak?

We got a response already?

It's like someone was camped
out on the frequency, waiting.

Someone was.

What's the message?

They're coordinates.
And these are in Cylon space.

Then that's where
we're going.

No, it's not
where we're going.

- Yes, it is.
- No, it's not where we're going.

Yes, it is.

I'm going home.

- No. Coker...
- If you guys want to come with me,

- that's great. I'll take you.
- Listen to me, all right?

- I'll give you a ride. There's even some food...
- Coker, listen to me!

- What?
- You've got two months left on your tour.

All right?
You're coming with us.

You want to spend the rest
of your life in prison, huh?

'Cause you're gonna get
a court martial like that.

Do you really think you can
talk to me in my godsdamn ship?

Coker, I am the pilot
of this ship!

You are a co-pilot.

Let me know
when we're close.

I'm beginning to like her
about as much as I like you.

Good.

That it?

Coordinates are on the
far side of that big rock.

Still nothing on dradis?

No.

But with all this radiation,
dradis ain't worth a damn.

You could hide a fleet of
Basestars in this system.

Better go wake up
her holiness.

Dr. Kelly?

Becca? Wake up.

Ezra?

It's you.

You were talking
in your sleep.

- What did I say?
- Nothing.

You called me Ezra.

Look, you don't have to explain
who he is if you don't want.

You've heard of Ezra Barzel?

Of course I have.

Old Marine, took out like an
entire Cylon platoon single-handed.

A lot of the guys joined up
at the Academy because of him.

- It's an inspiring story.
- Hmm.

He was an inspiring man.

And a good husband.

I hope you had
a nice snooze.

We're about to find out what kind of
fun and games you got us into this time.

Approaching coordinates.

Dradis contact.
Multiple readings.

It is a fleet.

Colonial transponder.
It's one of ours.

There you go.

All right.

And it looks like they're
sending up a greeting party.

Hello, people.

They're coming in hot.

Weapons locked on.

Unidentified Raptor, answer
password challenge "Spigot."

- What the frak?
- I don't know.

This is Raptor
Niner-zero-niner,

attached to
the Battlestar Galactica.

We do not know
of any password.

We're here on
a special mission.

Repeat,
challenge is "Spigot."

You have five seconds to
respond or we'll open fire.

- Five seconds to respond?
- Five, four...

- Did Nash tell you any passwords?
- No. Did you get any passwords?

- No, I didn't get any passwords.
- You didn't read the order?

- Did you read the orders?
- I skimmed it.

I don't know.
But, Coker, we need that password.

Well, try and think of
something, all right?

They're engaging us.

They're gonna
open fire any minute.

We're from Galactica.

- We don't have a...
- Arrow. Response is arrow.

Affirmative. Niner-zero-niner,
follow me to the outer marker

then contact LSO on frequency
134 for landing instructions.

Roger that.

You might've told us
that bit of business

before we almost got
our asses shot off.

Everything I tell you has to
be on a need-to-know basis.

- That's the order.
- Frak.

See that Battlestar?
Wait, is that Valkyrie?

- No.
- It is.

- It is, it's Valkyrie.
- That's not possible.

Valkyrie was destroyed
on Canceron Prime.

No, it was reported destroyed.
See that heavy cruiser over there?

That's the Loki.

She was reported lost.
Presumed destroyed, too.

It's a fleet of ghost ships
hiding out in Cylon space.

Get out!
Get out! Get out!

- Get out!
- I'm fine.

Move out!
People, move!

Come on.

- Your hands up!
- On your knees.

Easy. Easy, easy.

I just want to speak to
the commander of this ship.

Shut up.

You tell me who you are
and how you found this fleet.

Take these to your
commanding officer.

They'll confirm
my identity and mission.

They're not exactly going all out
to make us feel welcome, are they?

Reminds me of Colonial Day
at my mother-in-law's.

Shut up.

You're married?

Do you see a ring
on my finger?

Stand her up.
Hold still.

Commander will see you
in her quarters.

Pick it up.

All right,
all right, all right.

Get the Admiral
on the horn.

Tell him I'm coming aboard to
brief him on a priority one mission.

Fit Osiris out for a 12-league
jump, and tell him I'm gonna need 10

of his new Mark Threes
loaded for bear

and prepped for
atmospheric insertion.

Oh, and detail a Raptor
for Dr. Kelly here.

Commander.

Commander on deck.

- Ensign William Adama.
- As you were.

Squadron Victor-Alpha-42,
Galactica.

We brought Dr. Kelly here

and I would like to volunteer
our bird for this mission.

How long you
been flying, junior?

This is my first op, sir.

But my ECO and I have already taken
out two Cylon SAMs and three Raiders.

Three bandits?
In a Raptor? That true?

It's true enough.

Well, thanks, son,
but I think we'll go ahead

and use one of our
own birds on this one.

Commander.

Excuse me.

Commander.

These men have gotten
me this far in one piece.

I'd like to stick with
them if it's all right.

Have it your way.

Thank you, Commander.

Make sure the other pilots
are volunteers, too.

Um...

Did you just hear that?
Volunteers.

So?

So, congratulations, Husker.
You just signed us up for a one-way trip.

We're on course to Djerba, a former
winter resort moon in Sector 12.

Cylons took it over early in
the war as a strategic outpost.

Now, it's so deep
in their space

that intel says
it's mostly unguarded.

Some ground forces with support
ships visiting periodically,

but no Basestars.

A spec ops Marine recon team
has already been inserted.

Our job is to deliver Dr.
Kelly safely to the operators,

then bug out, let them take her the
rest of the way to her objective.

I want all Vipers
prepped by 1400,

tactical jump
to follow at 1500.

Let's get to work,
gentlemen.

Yes, sir.

Holy frak.

Is that my old
friend Jim Kirby,

Coker.
It's good to see you.

- You, too, buddy.
- So good.

That was a heck
of a surprise, man.

I read your name on a casualty
list when the Valkyrie, you know,

supposedly bought it.

Yeah, well, we almost did.
Ship was shot to hell.

But then Command saw
that she could be salvaged,

and they saw an opportunity.

Right, you assemble
a fleet of dead ships

- and hit them when they least expect it.
- That's good.

Talk about
creepy, though.

They made us witness
our own death certificates.

Are you frakking
kidding me?

"Give your all
for the war," right?

Yeah, "Us or them."

So, I'm guessing that

you being dead and all, you haven't
had a chance to talk to Janey?

No.

I saw her.

I had a couple of
days' leave over on Picon.

So what are you gonna tell me now?
She's remarried?

Not that I blame her.

Just this frakking war.

No, she's on
her own, man.

Well, she's...

She's got a kid.

A kid? What are you
talking about?

She's got a boy.

He's got her hair, man.
He's got her nose.

He's got your eyes.

Wait, what are you saying?

I got a son, is that what
you're telling me right now?

- I got a son?
- Yeah, you do.

Anslem. That's his name.

That's my father's name.

I know.

Really, I got a son?

You motherfrakker...

- I got a son?
- Yeah.

I got a frakking son!

I got a son!

This is the Commander.
Thirty minutes to combat jump.

All pilots to their planes.
Action stations,

set condition one
throughout the ship.

Hey, thank you.

Jump.

Jump complete.

No dradis contacts.

Approaching launch
window in ten, nine,

eight, seven...

Dradis contact!

Basestar bearing 275 carom
412, range 2,000. Inbound.

Have they made us yet?

No.

They still haven't
scrambled their Raiders.

But even in stealth mode, they're
gonna pick us up on dradis soon,

and they'll definitely
see us if we try to launch.

We can still abort.

This is
the Commander.

We've encountered a Basestar.

We're going to engage.

We'll be launching the Raptor
along with the Vipers.

The objective of
the Viper fleet is to drag

the fight away from
the ice planet Djerba.

Kirby, Elias, you accompany the Raptor down.

It is critical that Dr.
Kelly reach her objective.

The fate of this war hinges
on the success of this mission.

Activate all batteries
and arm the nukes.

They've seen us.

They're launching Raiders.

Launch.

Launch all planes.

534, it's positive and steady.
Go for launch.

Check thrust. Positive and steady.
You are a go for launch.

Thrusters engage.
Dradis is green. I see them.

Raptor's away.

Open fire.

We're down two planes.
We can't keep them bottled up any longer.

Duster bought it.

Those poor bastards are
outnumbered 10-to-one.

They're never gonna make it.

Fire the nukes.

At this range we may
not clear the blast.

Do it.

No, no, no!

We got atmosphere.

I'm flying blind, here.

I can't frakking
see anything.

We got a contact!
Look out, guys.

I got two...
No, three bandits.

Two klicks and closing.

Wait, wait, wait!
I see them, 7 o'clock high!

Copy that, Kirby.
I'll follow your lead.

Better take us down. Betting those
things can't handle the atmosphere.

Roger that.

Bay doors are jammed!

Take us in.
We'll trigger them manually.

Affirmative.

These clouds are hiding a lot of crap.
This is not going to be easy.

Oh, now
he gets humble.

Just try and get us down
in one piece, Husker.

Distance to target,
two klicks.

Then take us in.

I'll trigger them manually.

Give me manual override
on the nukes.

Squadron leader just got hit.

I'm hit! I'm hit!

You have it.

Distance is 1,500.

Brace for contact,
my friend.

A nuke just went off.

I've lost dradis contact
with Osiris and the Basestar.

Keep a grip, kid.

Bandits right up our asses.

Weasel, we're gonna have to
roll out to get behind them.

I can do better than that.

Coker, get on that tail gun, and
try to hit something this time.

You worry about the flying,
I'll worry about the shooting.

I got one!
I frakking got one!

I'm all right!

Gods damn it, guys.
A little help here, please?

We're getting
our asses kicked!

Got him! Got him!

He's on my 6.
I can't shake him!

Wait, I see him!

Elias is down!

I'm hit! We're hit.

I'm sorry, Coker.

I'm going home.

Say again, Kirby.
I didn't copy that.

I'm going home.

Kirby! Kirby,
what the frak?

I'm out of ammo!

Coke, where is he?

Frak! 200 meters
and closing!

Good.

Yeah!

Last one, Raider! Whoo!

Hydraulics are shot.
I'm losing attitude control!

We've lost
the left engine!

Just find
a soft place to land!

Com's shot and
the nav system's a mess.

I think if I can get that
left engine back online,

I can get her
off the ground.

No way,
there's too much damage.

The only way out of here is to
get Dr. Kelly to her rendezvous.

Rendezvous? Are you nuts?

Do you know how many people
just died on that ship?

- I'm talking to you!
- Hey!

Do you know
how many people?

Typical crew complement of an
Orion-class ship is about 150,

not counting the pilots.

Hey, well, for fun,
let's count the pilots,

'cause I'm pretty sure
they're frakking dead, too.

- Look!
- Get your things. We're moving out.

No, no, no, Husker,
we are not going anywhere

unless I frakking say so.

Husker? I am getting tired
of that frakking name.

- Come on, guys.
- Well, you know what? The shoe fits.

And I am really getting tired
of this frakked up attitude.

You need to soldier up and stop
whining like a chicken shit short-timer.

That's it? One week out of flight
school and you're calling me yellow?

You want to go home?

The fastest way to do that
is to find those Marines.

I can pinpoint the location
of their transponder

using my encrypted
tracking device.

All right?

They'll have their own extraction plan.
We can piggyback with them.

I don't see
any alternative.

This bird's kept me safe
for a bunch of years,

and I frakking hate
leaving her like this.

I know.

It's coming
from over there.

Hello?

They should be here.

We're still
getting signal?

- Are we?
- Yes. Yes.

Then the transponder's here.

Oh, Gods!

Oh, frak.

What the hell happened to these guys?
These aren't gunshot wounds.

Frak.

All right.
All right.

Transponder's
still broadcasting.

I think we found
our recon team.

That's it. We found them.
They're dead.

This mission's a bust.
I'm heading back to the Raptor.

- No.
- Frak.

Well, this has
been a real treat,

but I think it's time
we get out of here.

Any takers? Let's go.

Becca?

Coker?

We're here.

Becca, where are you?

- Becca!
- Help!

Coker!

We're down here.

Bill.

You okay?

Oh, is he okay?

Welcome to the party.

If that was your attempt at a
rescue, you get an E for "effort"

and an F for
"frakking it up."

You don't appreciate shit.

How're we gonna
get out of here?

What the hell is this?

There's got to be
another way out of here.

What was that?
Did you hear that?

What the hell are
all these holes?

- There's something in the walls.
- What?

What the frak was that?

In the walls? What the frak are
you talking about?

What was that?

What the frak was that?

Coker, are you bitten?

Yes, I'm frakking bitten. Ow!

- What is it?
- I don't know.

Coker, hold it still!
I can't get a good shot!

Get it off me!

I can't get a clear shot.
Hold still!

Get it off of me!

Shoot the motherfrakker!

Shoot it!

You're late.

Oh, Gods!

Oh, man!

Are we cool with
this thing in here?

Don't worry, tough guy, it's
as dead as the ones down below.

You must be
Captain Ramirez.

Do I look like
a Ramirez?

Captain's on ice with
the rest of the Marines.

I'm all that's left.
Toth, Tech Sergeant, demolitions.

I was starting to think you
weren't gonna make it, man.

Yeah, we almost didn't.

What the frak
are these things?

Toasters have been using this
planet to test-drive cyborg critters.

Half-machine, half-organic,
very hard to kill.

Unless you have
the right weapon.

Makes for good
eating, though.

There it is.

How long you
been here, man?

You don't want to know.

No. Thank you.
Maybe later.

I'm all right for now.

Mmm.

I'm sorry

I couldn't get here any
quicker after I saw your signal.

Speaking of which,
who's got that bitch?

Right now, we don't
need any more company.

Is that how they
found your unit?

Toasters didn't find them.

We were breaking
camp in this cave.

Captain sent me out to
reconnoiter the neighborhood,

and when I got back, well...

Little demons ambushed them.

Frakking abominations.

Whole war's
a frakking abomination.

Ain't that right,
flyboy, huh?

Ain't that right?

Ain't that right, frakker?

- Sergeant! Sergeant, please.
- Ain't that right?

I assume that you've been
briefed on my mission.

How long to get us
to my objective?

Yeah, well,
storm's getting worse

and you don't want to be
out there when it does.

Plus, there's a toaster patrol
that I've been eyeballing

and they see better
in this crap than we do.

No, I'm sorry,
but I've got a timetable.

I can't just sit around and
wait for this storm to pass.

I think it's gonna
blow over by morning.

Plus, I got a secure location
where we can hole up for the night.

You want to
pack that to go?

Yeah, no, we just ate.

You know what?
I'm not frakking going with you.

Because our
mission was to get...

Hey!

Apply pressure to the occipital
nerve and the carotid artery.

Unconscious in eight seconds,
dead in 10.

Five, six, seven, eight.

Like I said,
let's get going.

Come on, get up.

That's your secure location?
A frakking ski lodge?

Toasters used it as a storage
facility after the initial attack.

Then they just abandoned it.

What were they storing?

Spare parts.

Anyway, four stars
and all the comforts.

Some of the suites even
have gas fireplaces, honey.

Watch your step!

Got my babies
planted all around here.

Tripwires and mines.

Follow me.

Is it me or is this guy
wound a little tight?

Come on.

Nice, huh?

I got a generator
set up for minimal power.

Just don't turn on too many
lights, for obvious reasons.

And if someone or something
comes knocking...

Controlled bursts.

We're low on ammo.

Anybody want some rack time?
Now's your chance.

I'll take first watch.

You all right?

Yeah.

What was he like?

- My husband?
- Yeah.

A lot like you, actually.

Idealistic.

Ambitious.

Was he a computer nerd,
like you?

He was a professor,
thank you very much.

An historian
who woke up one day

and decided he couldn't just sit
back and watch history pass him by.

He never wanted to be a hero, but
they turned him into one anyway.

Slapped his face on
recruiting posters.

All but resurrected
him in V-world.

Yeah. I remember that.

I'm just going to
sleep by the fire.

Yeah, I'll make
a bed over there.

What you don't remember,
because they never let it out,

is that afterwards a reporter
found out it was all a fabrication.

A lie.

He didn't take out
a Cylon platoon.

His scouting party was shot
up by men from his own unit.

Friendly fire.

But like you said,
it's a war, right?

Shit happens.

"Us or them."

"All for the war."

Everything they tell you to make
you give up what really matters.

That's why
this war has to end.

I understand.

Believe me, I understand.

You're going to regret this.

I'm...

I'm from Aerilon.

Where are you from?

You got a family?

Kid's green,
he's never gonna make it.

Pretty damn good pilot.

I had a pretty good unit.

Fifty guys,
ultimate bad-asses.

I'm the guy that's left.

Where's your pal?

I don't know.

Don't you?

I had enough of people.

Get out.

Get the frak out.

Back home, I couldn't
afford any of this stuff.

Figured it'd be a crime
to let it go to waste.

May l?

Help yourself.

Show some respect.

Do not frakking sip that.

Yeah. It's nice.

You had to frak her,
didn't you?

Dumb, Husker.

Dumb, dumb, dumb.

It wasn't like that.
It just happened.

Oh, I guarantee you, whatever it
was like, it did not just happen.

Case in point, I'm guessing she
did not tell you why we're here.

She did.

Kind of. She's...

She lost her husband.
He was some kind of a...

Her husband.
Her frakking husband?

Something just
hit the tripwires.

Let's go get
your girlfriend.

We don't need her getting
in the way of any bullets.

Becca?

What?

I thought
she'd wait here.

She probably just got spooked.
We'll find her.

I'll take the north wing,
you go south.

Stay cool, Husker, all right?
Keep your head down.

All right, you bastards.
Come to daddy.

Becca?

She's okay.

This one almost nailed
her before I got here.

What's that noise
it's making?

Screaming.

Sorry, what? Screaming?

They feel pain.

Put this thing out
of its misery, then.

It's okay.

That's all of them.

Toth.

It's not going to
be okay for Toth.

Toth?

Tough motherfrakker
just took out two more.

He's not gonna make it.

I got his wireless.

Why?

Why do you think?

Fun and games are over.
I'm sending the evac code.

- We're getting the frak out of here.
- No. No.

- Crazy. Are you nuts?
- Nope.

Look,
we complete this mission,

then you can send whatever
code you want, all right?

Look, kid,
unless you haven't noticed,

we're fresh out of
Marines and ammo.

- I'm not trained for this.
- I noticed.

So we're going to have
to make do, all right?

Where are we going?

It's an automated
transmission array.

You need to put
your gun down, Husker.

Put it down.

Coker, what are you doing?

Look, you guys want to die heroes right now?

I can do that
for you, right now.

Test me, Husker.

Coker,
what are you doing?

Why are you doing this?

I can't take it.

Please, put the gun down.

Come on.

All right, it's gone.

You tell me why
we're here, right now.

- Don't do this.
- Tell me why we're here!

This war isn't going nearly as
well as the government claims.

I know.

This surprise attack
is a last roll of the die.

If it fails, we fail,
and it will fail

if you don't get me
where I need to go.

She's talking sense.

Coker, please.

So now we need to know.

You tell me
why we're here.

It's an automated
Cylon transmission array.

Once we gain access,
I will upload a virus.

Can you please take
the gun off my chest?

Please.

Keep talking.

I will upload a virus that is
designed to blind their defenses.

A virus I have
been carrying in this.

What, you didn't trust me
enough to tell me this before?

No. I'm sorry.

I trust you now.

Good.

Then we're communicating.

Tell us the rest.

Make sure there are
no more surprises.

Like I said, it's an automated
Cylon transmission array

about six klicks from here, so if we
leave now, we'll make it before nightfall.

The facility is automated,

so we shouldn't run into
too many Centurion guards.

That is, if we're careful not to
trip the internal defense systems.

The central corridor leads
directly to the control room.

We'll need to access one of their
com channels to upload the virus.

A virus that is designed to
spread through their entire network

and lie dormant
until we trigger it,

disabling all of their communications
in advance of an attack.

Clear.

What is it?

Thought I saw something.

Guess I'm just jumpy.

We're in.

Come on, Becca, hurry with
that thing, all right? Come on.

It's a large program.
It'll take a...

- No.
- Stop.

Put it down.

Put the gun down now, Husker,
I will shoot you.

This frakking bitch
is working for them!

- What?
- She's a Cylon spy!

No.

How the frak do l
stop this thing?

A spy? Coker,
how could she be a spy?

Ask her about the hotel.

About the Cylon that stopped and scanned her.

- What?
- I don't know what you're talking about.

- What hotel?
- That frakking toaster had you dead to rights

and then it saw
this thing and it froze.

Can you explain that to me?

Can you?

- I have no idea what you're talking about.
- Coker.

Put the gun down on the
floor and calm down, okay?

- Drop the gun.
- Oh, frak.

It's not a virus,
it's a recording device.

- What?
- Oh, frak!

You're giving them
all the info

on the ghost ships,
aren't you?

You frakking bitch!

That's why they destroyed the Archeron.
So that Colonial intel...

Coker!

Stop.

I will shoot you
if I have to.

What?

Oh, no! No!

I thought you wanted
to end this war.

It'll end when we realize
that we can't win.

That we have to negotiate.

Negotiate?

For the last 10 years they've
been trying to wipe us out.

Stop. They were just
defending themselves.

No.

They value life
more than we do!

You saw what was in
that freezer, Becca.

Stop.

Was that them
defending themselves?

Was that them
valuing life?

They're robots,
Becca, okay?

That's all they are.

Soulless...

- You okay, buddy? You all right?
- Coker, you okay?

Stop the upload.

It's all in Cylon.
I can't make it out.

Well, then go
to plan B, kid.

Come on. Come on.

No, no, no, it's...
It's no good.

It stopped but I don't know
how much has already been sent.

Then stop wasting time
and get yourseIf out of here!

You think I'm gonna start
listening to you now, huh?

Come on!

Okay.

This is far enough.

Put me down.

I said put me down!

Shouldn't
be long now.

Hold onto that for me.

Who is this?

It's Katie.

My wife.

Why didn't you tell me?

Sometimes you...

You miss something
too much...

You wouldn't
understand, kid.

You got lousy taste in women.

But you're all right, Husker.

Coker?

Are you alive?

Do you think because
you're more enlightened

than the rest
of your species,

we hate you any less?

There's our young hero.

At ease, son.

How you feeling
today, Ensign?

Ready to get
out of here, sir.

That's the spirit.

In the meantime, I wanted you to
review your after-action report.

Command made a few changes
they need you to sign off on.

Guess they felt you were
a little hard on yourself.

Sir, this report says that our
mission was a complete success.

- That's just a lie.
- Was it?

You knew.

You wanted her to
upload that data.

So when the Cylons attacked,
the fleet...

Was long gone.

We hit every toaster base in five
sectors, inflicted some major damage.

For a while anyway, they're
going to be on the defensive.

And what about the Osiris?

What about all those
people who died?

You mean all those people
who gave their lives. Right?

- You disapprove?
- Yes.

- You feel used?
- Mmm-hmm.

Well, I'm sorry, son, but
there's a bit more at stake here

than your personal
sense of integrity.

The truth is that the people
support this war with their money,

and they will stop if
we stop giving them hope.

So let them have
their heroes,

let them have their
unblemished victories,

while you and l
fight the real war.

Yes?

Good.

We're assembling
a joint task force.

Our best pilots,
Marines and infantry units

for special ops
throughout the war theater.

In case you want
to volunteer,

there's a shiny new Viper
with your name on it

waiting for you
in the hangar bay.

Well, maybe not with
your name on it just yet.

I hear you still have
to pick out a call sign.

- You think about it.
- Yeah.

What? No cocky comebacks?

You look like shit.

You're one to talk.

You going home?

Well, I got six weeks
left in my tour,

so I figure I'll
stick around that long.

Long as I don't
have to fly with you.

Dear Dad,
I got your last letter.

You're right about
preconceptions being dangerous,

and not just in court.

This war is turning out to be
different than I expected.

But maybe my mistake
was to have expectations.

It's something you have to live
inside of to really understand.

While a part of me
already hates it,

another part knows that
I'll make soldiering my life.

But this is
the life I've chosen,

and this crew,
it's my family now, too.

Because I'll tell
you something else,

when this war is over,
and some day it will be,

what I'll remember most
are not the battles,

but the men and women
who fought them with me.

And I will miss them.