Commander Adama. Excuse me for barging in like this, sir, but I must have a word. Certainly. At ease, at ease. Captain, you appear rather harried. Sir, it's... It's the daggits. Daggits? I believe he's speaking of Lieutenant Dante's squadron. Ah, yes, yes, D-squadron. What are they doing to my poor flying craft? May I point out that there are not very many who would volunteer to run decoy missions against Cylon warships, so that warriors could visit the Earth without being detected and followed? You see, Captain, flying straight at a Cylon base ship, outnumbered 100-to-1, does require a certain kind of devil-may-care attitude. I don't mind the havoc they're doing out there. It's what they're doing to those machines. Why, do you realize, they deliberately removed the limiters from the turbo chargers? No. Ready for launch: DILLON: Check ignition: Ready? Why not? This is Captain Troy to D-squadron leader: We're proceeding to mission's coordinates, 39: 70: DANTE: You got it, Cap: PILO T: Troy and Dillon should be safely on their way to Earth by now: Let's go make sure no Cylons pick up their trail: No sign of Cylon pursuit on my scanner: Affirmative: Looks like we made it again: This could be one of our most satisfying missions, Troy: The establishment of one our own colonies on Earth, a permanent place for the children, and fresh supplies for the fleet: TRO Y: Let's get going: Ready? Yeah. Let's go. Over there, an earthling. It must be Mr. Alonzo. Excuse me! DILLON: That's not a life form. Some type of dried grass. Stuffed in an earthlings clothing? Why? Might be some kind of primitive burial symbol. Or some kind of attempted, crude artistic expression. Look like the main dwelling over there. Nice night. Why is he so depressed this evening, Mama? Someone's gonna answer the ad. (SIGHS) He just feels so foolish running the ad. He thinks everyone in town will see it and think he's giving up. He's not giving up. He's trying to hang on. I should have never, never talked him into this. Don't be silly, Mama. He can't just hold it inside. It will eat him up. Doesn't he realize we all know what's happening to him? Even Chris. Hector, would you like to go outside? (SIGHS) You know, it's going to kill me to sell. Especially if I have to sell to Steadman. Hector... You're going to say, "Don't worry." Save it for the children. There's no need, they already know. And God bless my sister Gloria, and most of all, please help my mommy and daddy. I know how hard they work, so me and my sister could have a home of our own. And now we may have to move away because we can't afford it. So, please Lord, please send somebody to help my dad. DILLON: Don't be alarmed. We're friends. You startled us. We didn't see or hear your car pull up. Oh, we walked, from over the ridge. Well, what can I do for you? We're aware of your article requesting assistance for your agricultural establishment. We'd hoped to discuss the matter with you. Perhaps we can be of help. TROY: Mr. Alonzo, the ad that you placed in the newspaper said that you wanted to sell half interest in your farm. And that you needed some help. HECTOR: Gentlemen, I might as well warn you. You may be throwing your money away. TROY: What seems to be the trouble? All my problems boil down to this. Not enough water. First, the worst drought in years, then the irrigation quota. Irrigation quota? Yes. The water in this area is controlled by John Steadman of the Growers Association, making it impossible for small farmers like myself to succeed. Oh, no more for me, thank you, Gloria. Don't you like them? Oh, yes, it's very good. GLORIA: I made them myself. Nowadays, we're lucky to be eating meat twice a week. Yes. Things are pretty thin since the creek turned into a trickle. What is the problem? John Steadman dammed up
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