She never existed.
You listen to me.
Don't you ever play
that stupid game with me.
You hear me?
Angel.
What is it, Lieutenant?
Could we stop this, please?
I'm sorry about Forbes.
I don't know
who you're talking about.
Don't.
It's a shitty game, Angel.
Rosie deserves more.
What do you suggest I do
about it?
Look, he feels responsible.
And so he should.
His confidence is shot.
He's questioning
every move he made.
He can't go back up there
like this.
And right now...
I think we need
all the pilots we can get.
I'll think about it.
He's a good guy, Angel.
There's no reason to hate him.
Fuel cells nominal.
Life-support system critical
in five hours.
What is she, another destroyer?
It doesn't matter.
We can't take another round
of bombardment.
I have four rapiers
ready to go, sir.
We'll go down fighting.
We'll do better
than that, Angel.
Let's make a miracle.
That ship up there
is going to save our ass.
Lieutenant, time to suit up.
Oh! Ma'am?
I need my best pilots
out there.
I repeat--
all pilots and flight crew
to hangar deck immediately.
Well, I don't know if I'm
one of your best pilots, ma'am.
Does everyone here think
I go around making suggestions?
No.
Then I guess I gave an order.
Be on the flight deck
in five minutes.
Do it for Rosie.
Aren't you on the wrong ship,
Commander?
I still have
a responsibility...
to this crew, Commodore.
And excuse my bluntness...
but if you think
I'm going to let my men...
be flown into combat
by a rogue and a half-breed...
you're sadly mistaken.
He really is a good guy
once you get to know him.
That's no destroyer.
That's the communication ship
we came up against.
And that's the ship
we'll get our fuel from.
They'll spot
our heat corona soon.
No.
They won't have a chance.
Hit it.
Marines, to your stations.
As soon as you
get on board...
head straight
for the engine room.
Tiger Claw
needs those fuel cells.
Blair...
I'm picking up some sort
of transmission aft of you.
Check it out.
Blair.
Where the hell are you, Blair?
What the hell?
Pegasus Navcom.
Paladin...
they have the Charybdis
jump coordinates.
Is everything OK?
We've secured the fuel cells.
We've got more than that,
Angel.
We have the Kilrathi
jump coordinates.
Marines, move out.
Mr. Obutu, prepare drone.
Input the Kilrathi
jump coordinates.
Send it through
the Charybdis quasar...
to Admiral Tolwyn.
They should be able to target
the exact location...
of the Kilrathi jump entry.
It'll be over before they can
get their weapons on-line.
lf Tolwyn's there, Mr. Gerald.
If he's there.
Sir, we have a problem.
I can't get the drones on-line.
Without those coordinates,
Tolwyn doesn't have a chance.
And we are too big to slip
past the Kilrathi...
and warn the fleet.
We'll have to send
a fighter through.
Impossible.
There are over a thousand
singularities in that quasar.
To jump it would be suicide
without Navcom coordinates.
We don't need a Navcom.
Blair?
You will navigate the quasar.
Angel will follow your lead.
Sir, that's
statistically impossible.
We don't have another option.
You have the gift.
I don't think I can.
I don't have the faith.
It's not faith. It's genetics.
But if you believe
you need faith...
take mine.
Why didn't you tell me?
You didn't ask.
Sir...
Long-range scanners
picking up Kilrathi ships.
Looks like a destroyer
and a cruiser.
We'll create the diversion.
Get those coordinates to Tolwyn.
Uh, I got a strong signal
at ten o'clock.
It's gone, Angel. It vanished.
Got it--
a skipper missile...
dead on course
for the Tiger Claw.
Only thing that can kill it...
is a star fighter
in visual contact.
What are you doing, Angel?
Just stay on course.
Get through the jump point.
What about our orders?
Angel.
Angel!
Report!
Sir, we have a bogey.
Vector one-nine-seven
mark three--
It's gone.
It's a skipper missile.
We're only picking it up...
when it de-cloaks
to get a