Subtitle by Norel
Compile & Resync by Jawier
Dear dad,
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 is 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 the 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 bastard.
Watch out, Hot shot.
You've got a bandit on your six.
That's fine, just adds to the challenge.
Come on, Kid. Break off! Break off!
No way, I got this.
Come on, come on, come on.
Frak, I can't...
I can't see!
You've got no visibility, Kid. Get out of there.
Watch you back, Kid. It's coming around again.
There we go. Much better.
What, are you crazy? Return to base!
You can't take that kind of radiation exposure.
You'd die in less than 30 sec.
20 seconds and counting!
You're approaching radiation exposure max.
Frak, my gun is jammed!
- You only have 12 sec left! - Frak that!
Okay. Game over.
Are you crazy, you can't fire...
Deal with it, suckers!
Come on, tell me that ain't no record.
Congratulation captain,
You have completed level six.
Good sim score?
Oh, no. Not a good sim score. The top sim score.
- I'm impressed. - Thanks.
I'd be if I were you.
Lookout Jay, we've got a live one.
Let me guess.
You're freshly out of Academy,
and you've been itching to fly a Viper since you were in short pants
but your only worry now is that the war will be over
before you get the 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.
Look at the pair on you.
Was that a request?
No don't get your hopes up, rooky.
- You're not my type. - No?
Good so it's a date.
Town boy!
- You are a real charger, ain't you? - Thank you.
If you're looking for some action,
there's a girl who's gonna give it to you.
Gods damn...
- Yo rook, you're blocking traffic. - I'm sorry.
That's Deke Tornvald. The "Minute Man."
- You heard of him, huh? - Heard of him?
He was like my hero at the Academy.
What's he got, like 30 kills?
You'd better hurry or there won't be any left for you, ace.
Look out!
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 F.O.B., 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 a designation you're qualified.
No sir, there has to be
- some kind of mistake. - 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 with it's 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.
- I'm so sorry. - Frak!
I'm sorry.
I just finished mucking this all thing out.
I'm sorry, I didn't see what was going on.
Of course you didn't, because you weren't looking!
What are you doing in here?
Are you with that godsdamn press tour?
No... Um...
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 send me a rook fresh of the boat?
Great.
Guess you must be my new Copilot.
Not if I can do something about it, I'm not.
I want new gyros on there this time.
- Or I'll be pissed off! - I'm working on it, Lieutenant.
Let me help you with all this.
Just leave... just leave it!
I said leave it alone.
Fasio... Fasiovik.
Oh 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?
I'm just mopping of 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 ten huskers like you!
Lieutenant Fasjovik and Captain 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!
And stick with your barn yard tractor pulls.
I'm from Caprica city.
Yeah tell that to someone who cares, husker.
You're gonna offer the commander a drink?
What?
Flask.
Frak.
Let's go!
- Sir. - Mister 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 interesting Tauron family connections.
The Ha'la'tha?
I 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're 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, Mister Singh? - Yes, sir.
Thank you.
We're ten years into a bad war, son,
so now this is how I handle cocky sons of bitches on my ship.
I assign 'em to milk runs until they cool down.
Your orders.
- Something funny, Mister Fasjovik? - Not at all, sir.
You boys are gonna take some cargo to the Scorpion shipyards
and you're going to return with spare parts.
It's a four-day round trip.
I'd assign a jump-capable ship if I could afford one, but I can't,
so your sorry-ass Raptor will have to do.
Above all, you're to avoid any enemy contact.
That includes Cylon ships, SAMS, slingshots,
or 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 gonna me driving a frakking delivery truck.
Oh yeah, the only thing better is if they could 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.
Go back to what, huh? 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 half the pilot you are.
- I'll let you in on a little secret, kid. - Yeah.
It's bullshit. All of it.
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 godamn milk run.
That's it. We're going out.
It's gonna be two days out, two days back.
- So are you gonna lay over? - Hell yeah I'm gonna lay over.
They got real booze over there. None of this watered-down pruno.
It sounds like you two have booked a bona fide pleasure cruise.
Yeah, you 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 thegn just wants to make a name for himself.
Isn't it why we're here? Huh? Kill the enemy?
Destroy the frakking machines before they destroy us.
Hurrah.
Kid, we all know why we're here.
Jusy 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.
- What's it to you? - I'm just saying.
That could have rangled a pass on this old frak ass is pretty easy.
Is that what you would have done?
Find a way out of the war?
All I'm saying, Husker, is nobody gave me a choice.
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, 2 Archers? - We're short on air-to-airs.
Ordnance Chief says two, so two is 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 you at least get an exact weight?
Why don't you ask it yourself.
Uh, Theo, she's our cargo?
- Hey, uhm.. - Hi.
- We already met. Right? In the... - I...
- In the shower. - The shower.
You're a pilot?
Civilian. I'm a software engineer.
I'm Bill Adama. The 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...
Fasjo...
Coker. Coker is fine.
You look kinda 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 9-0-9
you're clear 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?
- Uh 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.
Nononononono, that is two days in the wrong direction.
That is sector 12.
That is right on the edge of Cylon controlled space.
There's no way we're gonna make it out there alive.
No, no there is 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.
Dammit!
You're having trouble with your band?
Yeah.
Let me have a look.
Well, you know how... 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 have support ships.
Then, where the hell are their transponders?
- Something wrong with this picture. - Break radio silence and hail them.
Archeron, this is Raptor 9-0-9. Acknowledge and respond.
Try again.
Archeron, this is Raptor 9-0-9. Acknowledge and respond.
Gods!
Is that Archeron?
Got your answer?
Get back there and sit down, strap yourself in.
Now!
This is unbelievable.
Must've been an ambush.
Nobody could have survived this.
I got three enemy contact. Incoming.
I got one Raider inbound on our starboard side.
- Visual. Where are the other two? - I don't know.
Targeting.
Dammit.
Auto-targeting isn't responding. I can't get a lock.
Can you get the helmets please?
Switch to manual.
- Switching to manual. - You don't understand.
We are not to engage the enemy!
The godsdamn enemy engaged us.
We can't outrun 'em with 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?
- We're fracked up! - What happened?
It's all good, we're all right.
Tow bandits, no missiles. Now I really don't like the math.
- Where the frak are you going? - Can't stay out in open space.
I thought we couldn't outrun them?
- We can't. - Maybe I can slow them down.
- The frakked thing is jammed! - Let's go to plan B!
There's a plan B?
The fuselage is still largely intact,
there is 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 Toasters can file on.
- One, two, three... - Husker?
- Are you counting? - One, two...
- One, two, three... - No Husker!
- One, two, three... - No! No, no! Don't try it!
- No! Husker, no! - One, two, three...
You're not gonna make it!
This is what we do!
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.
Pretty,
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 that 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.
- If you guys want to come with me, - Coker.
- That's great. - Listen to me, all right.
- I'll take you. I'll give you a ride. - Lieutenant.
- There is enough food back there for you. - Listen to me.
What?!
Two months left on you 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...
Coker! I'm am the pilot of this ship!
You are a copilot!
Let me know when we're close.
I'm starting to like her as much as I like you.
Good.
Is that it?
Coordinates are on the far side of that big rock.
- Still nothing on Dradis? - No.
With all this radiation, Dradis ain't worth a damn.
You could hide a fleet of Base Stars in this system.
You 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.
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 funny 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 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.
5 sec to respond.
- Has anyone tell you any passwords? - No. Did you get anty password?
Three...
- Did you read the order? - I skimmed it.
- I don't know. - Coker we need that password.
- I'll think of something, all right. - They're engaging us.
They'll open fire any minute. We're from Galactica!
Arrow!
Response is "Arrow"!"
Affirmative.
Niner-zero-niner,
follow me to the outer marker,
then contact the LSO on frequency 134 for landing instructions.
Roger that.
You might have 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.
You see that Battlestar? Wait, is that Valkyrie?
- I don't know. - It is.
- It's Valkyrie! - That's not possible.
Valkyrie was destroyed at Canceron Prime.
No. It was reported destroyed.
You 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 the Admiral on the horn
tell him I'm coming aboard to brief him on a Priority 1 mission.
Fit ourselves out for a 12-league Jump,
and tell him we're gonna need ten of his new Mark Threes
loaded for bear and prepped for an atmospheric insertion.
Oh, and detail a Raptor for Dr. Kelly here.
Commander.
- Commander on deck. - Ensign William Adama.
- As you were. - Squadron VA- 42, Galactica.
We brought Dr. Kelly here
and I'd 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.
Thanks, son, but I think we'll go ahead one of our own birds on this one.
Commander!
Commander,
these men have gotten me this far in one piece.
I'd like to stick with them if that's all right.
Have it your way.
Thank you, commander.
Make sure the other pilots are volunteers, too.
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 Base Stars.
A spec ops Marine Recon team has already been inserted.
Our job is to deliver Dr. Kelly safely to the operators,
then bug out and 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.
Holy frak.
Is that my old friend Jim Kirby,
or are my eyes going along with the rest of me?
Coker, it's good to see you.
- How you doing, buddy? - All good.
That was a heck of a surprise, men. I read your name on the casualty list.
When Valkyrie, you know... supposedly bought it.
We almost did. Ship was shot to hell.
But when Command realized she could be salvaged,
they saw an opportunity.
They assembled a fleet of "dead" ships
and head where they're least expected.
- That's good. - Talk about creepy though.
They made us all 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 on Picon.
So what are you gonna tell me now? She's remarried?
Not that I'd blame her, just this frakking war.
She's on her own man.
Well, she's...
She's got a kid.
A kid? What're 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've got a son? Is that what you're telling me right now?
- I've 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've got a son.
I've got a frakking son.
I got a son!
This is the Commander. 30 min to combat jump.
All pilots to their planes.
Action stations, set Condition One throughout the ship.
Thank you.
Jump!
Jump complete.
No dradis contacts.
Approaching launch window in ten,
nine,
eight,
seven...
Dradis contact.
Base Star bearing two-seven-five, carom four-one-two.
Range two thousand. 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 definetely see us if we try to launch.
We can still abort.
This is the commander.
We've encountered a Base Star.
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 of Djerba.
Kirby, Elias, you accompany the Raptor down.
It is critical that Dr. Kelly reachs her objective.
The fate of this war
hinges on the succes of this mission.
Activate all batteries and arm the nukes.
They've seen us.
They're launching Raiders.
Launch.
Launch all planes!
5-3-4, thrust positive and steady.
Go for launch.
Raptor Niner-zero-niner.
Interval check,thrust positive and steady you are a go for launch.
Thrusters engaged, 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.
Toasters bought it.
Those poor bastards are outnumbered ten to one.
They're never gonna make it.
Fire the nukes!
At this range we may not clear the blast.
Do it!
I can't frakin see anything.
Okay, contact!
Look out, guys. I've got two...
No, three bandits! Two klicks and closing.
Wait, wait, wait!
I see 'em! Seven o'clock high!
Copy that, Kirby, I'll follow your lead.
Better take us down.
Betting those things can't handle in the atmosphere.
Roger that.
Launchers are jammed!
Then take us in, we'll trigger them manually.
Affirmative!
These clouds are hiding a lot of crap.
This is not gonna be easy.
Now he gets humble.
Just try to get us down in one piece, Husker!
Distance to target two klicks.
Then take us in.
We'll trigger them manually.
Give me manual override on the nukes.
You have it.
Distance is 1500.
Brace for contact, my friend.
A nuke just went of.
I've lost dradis contact with the Syrius and the Base Star.
Keep a grip, kid.
Bandits right up our asses!
We're gonna have to get behind them.
I can do better than that!
Coker get on that tail gunner. Try to hit something this time!
You worry about the flying, I worry about the shooting.
I got one!
I frakking got one!
We're all right!
Godsdamnit! Guys a little help here!
Please! We're getting our asses kicked.
Got him! Got him!
- He's on my six, I can't shake him! - Wait, I see him!
Dolores is down!
I'm hit!
Evading!
I'm sorry, Coker.
I'm going home.
Repeat again, Kirby. I didn't copy that.
I'm going home.
Kirby!
Kirby, what the frak?
I'm out of ammo!
Coker, where is it?
- Frak. 200 m and closing! - Good!
Hydraulics are shot. I'm losing attitude control.
We've lost the left engine!
Let's find a safe place to land!
Com's shot and the nav system's a mess.
I think if I can get that left engine back on line,
I could 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 compliment of an Orion class ship is about a hundred and fifty,
not counting the pilots.
Oh hey, well, let's for fun, let's count the pilots,
'cause I'm pretty sure they're frakking dead too.
- Hey look! - Get your things. We're moving out.
No, no, no, no, Husker, we're not going anywhere
unless I frakking say so!
- Husker? - Yeah.
I'm getting tired of that frakking name...
- Come on guys.. - You know what,
if the shoe fits...
And I'm really getting tired of this frakked-up attitude.
You need to soldier up and stop whining like a gutless 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.
Alright?
They're gonna have their own extraction plan.
We can piggyback with them.
I don't see any alternative.
This bird kept me safe for a bunch of years
and I frakking hate leaving her like this.
I know.
Signal's strong ahead.
Hello!
They should be here.
We're still getting signal?
- Are we? - Yes, yes.
Their transponder's here.
Ugh gods!
Oh frak.
What the hell happened to these guys?
These aren't gunshot wounds.
Frak!
Alright, alright.
Transponder's still broadcasting.
I think we found the recon team.
That's it. We've found them, they're dead.
This mission is a bust. I'm going back to the raptor.
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? - Here.
Becca, where are you?
Becca!
Coker.
We're down here.
Bill?
You're OK?
Oh, is he OK?
Welcome to the party?
If that was your attempt to the rescue
you got a E for effort and a F for frakking it up.
You don't appreciate crap.
How are we gonna get out of here?
What the hell is this?
There's gotta be another way out here.
What was that? Did you see that?
What the hell are these holes?
- There's something in the walls. - What?
- What the frak was that? - The walls we're fraking talkin about.
What was that?
What the frak was that?
Coker are you bitten?
Yes I'm frakking bitten.
- What is it? - I don't know.
Get it of me!
I can't get a clear shot. Hold still.
Get it off of me.
Shot the motherfrakker!
You're late.
Oh gods!
Are we cool with this thing in here?
Don't worry tough guy, it's as dead as the one 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 thinking you wouldn't make it, man.
Yeah, we almost didn't.
What the frak are these things?
Toasters have been...
using this planet to test track cyborg critters:
Half machine, half organic,
and very hard to kill, unless you have the right weapon.
It's very...
good eating, though.
- How long you've been here, man? - You don't want to know.
No, thank you. Maybe later.
I'm alright for now.
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 won't get any more company.
- That how they found your unit? - Toasters didn't find them.
We were breaking camp in this cave,
Captain send me out to recognize the neighborhood,
and when I got back, well...
Well, the demons had ambushed them.
Frakking abominations.
Whole war's a frakking abomination.
Ain't that right flight boy, huh? Ain't that right?
- Ain't that right, frakker? - Sergeant!
- Ain't that right? - Sergeant, please.
I assume that you've been briefed on my mission.
How long to get us to my objective?
We.. well...
Storm's gonna get worse and you don't wanna be out here when it does.
Plus, there's a Toaster patrol,
...eyeball and they see better in this crap than we do.
I'm sorry, but I've got a timetable.
I can't just sit around
- and wait for the storm to pass. - Honey.
It'll blow over by morning,
plus I've got a secure location where we can hole up for tonight.
- You want to pack that to go? - Yeah, no, we just ate.
- You know what? - Uh huh.
I'm not frakking going with you, because our mission was to get...
Hey!
Apply pressure to the occipital nerve and the carotide artery
unconscious in eight seconds, dead in ten.
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!
I got my babies planted all around here.
Trip wires and mines.
Follow me.
Is it me or this guy wound a little tight?
Come on.
Nice, huh?
I got a generator setup for minimal power.
Just don't turn on too many lights,
for obvious reasons, and if someone or...
something comes in knocking...
Controlled bursts.
We're low on ammo.
Anybody want some rack time?
Now's your chance.
I'll take first watch.
Are 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?
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 gonna 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.
I saw 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.
Back home, I couldn't afford any of this stuff.
Figured it'd be a crime to let it go to waste.
May I?
Help yourself.
Show some respect, do not frakking sip that.
It's nice.
You had to frak her, didn't you?
Dumb, Husker.
Dumb, dumb, dumb.
It wasn't like that. It just happened.
You know, 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?
No. She did.
Kinda, she's ....
She lost her husband. He was come kind of...
Her husband? Her frakking husband.
Someone just hit the tripwires.
Let's go get your girlfriend.
We don't need her getting in the way of any bullets.
Becca?
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, alright?
Keep your head down.
Hey, bastards, come to daddy.
Becca?
She's okay,
but this one almost nailed her before I got here.
What's that noise it's making?
Screaming.
- I'm sorry, what? Screaming? - They feel pain.
Got to put this thing out of its misery then.
I'm OK.
It's all over.
Toth!
It's not gonna be OK for Toth.
- Toth? - He 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, and we're gonna frak outta here.
- No, no! - Please!
- Are you nuts? - No.
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 gonna have to make do.
All right?
Where are we going?
It's an automated transmission array.
Will you 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.
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 dice.
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 of my chest?
Please?
Keep talking.
I will upload a virus
that is designed to blind their defenses.
A virus that I've been carrying in this.
And you didn't trust me enough to tell me this before?
No.
I'm sorry.
I trust you now.
Good.
Now we communicate.
Tell us the rest.
Make sure there's no more surprises.
Like I said, it's an automated Cylon transmission array
about 6 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 only 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?
I thought I saw something.
I guess I'm just jumpy.
We are in.
Come on Beka. Hurry with that thing, all right?
Come on!
It's a large program, it'll take...
No!
Stop! Put it down!
Put the gun down now, Husker, or I'll shoot you.
This frakking bitch is working for them.
- What? - She's a Cylon spy!
No!
How the frak do I 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... - What hotel?!
The trakking toaster had you dead to rights!
Then it saw this thing and froze.
Can you explain that to me?
Can you?
I have no idea what are you 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 will end when we'll 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're just defending themselves.
No.
They value life for more than we do.
- You saw what was in that freezer Beka. - Stop!
Was that them defending themselves?
Was that them valuing life?
They're robots!
Beka, okay?
It's all they are. It's all...
Are you okay, buddy? You alright?
- Coker, you okay? - Stop the upload!
It's all inside and I can't make it out.
Well, then go to...
plan B, kid.
- Come on, come on! - Nonono, it's...
It stopped but I don't know how much as already been sent.
Stop wasting time. Get yourself outta 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's 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 have a lousy taste in women.
but you're all right, Husker.
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?
- 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 we're little hard on yourself.
Sir, this report,...
it 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 gonna 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? - Mmmh.
Well, I'm sorry son.
But there's a bit more at stake here
than your personal sense of integrity.
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 unblemish victories,
while you and I 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 a call sign.
You think about it.
What? No cocky comebacks?
You look like crap.
You want to talk?
You're going home?
I've got about six weeks left in my tour,
so I figure out, 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,
and while a part of me already hates it,
another part knows that I will make soldiering my life.
But this is the life I've chosen.
And this crew, it's my family now too.
So I'll tell you something else...
When this war is over, and some day it will be
what I'll remember most aren't the battles
but the men and women who fought them with me.
And I will miss them.