interface cockpit--
DEVEREAUX: Two Dralthis on
your tail--one above, one below.
You got five, maybe ten seconds.
Clock's ticking. What do you do?
Simple.
I go vertical and inverted...
do a 180 at full throttle...
apply brakes...
and drop in behind 'em.
Bang, you're dead.
Not fast enough.
Dralthis are too quick,
particularly in a climb.
You've just taken a missile
up your tailpipe.
OK, let's reverse the situation.
You're locked on a Dralthi.
It goes evasive,
enters an asteroid belt.
If I'm locked on...
there's no such thing
as evasive action.
And you're dead again.
You see, it's an ambush.
Five or six fighters
hide behind rocks...
the size of your swollen head
and pounce.
A Kilrathi gang-bang.
What's the matter?
Did I bruise your ego?
No. I'm just, uh, not used
to getting combat tips...
from a grease monkey,
that's all.
Lieutenant Commander Deveraux...
your wing commander.
You have a name?
Uh, Lieutenant Blair, ma'am.
Well, Lieutenant Blair...
if you want to play
at being a fighter pilot...
I suggest you find
a virtual fun zone.
Meanwhile,
step down from the rapier.
I apologize, ma'am.
The mission sheet said
the rapier was unassigned.
I didn't realize it belonged
to Lieutenant Commander Chen.
What are you doing
on the flight deck?
MARSHALL: Getting acquainted
with our new surroundings.
MARSHALL: Good job, B.
We're on the ship
five minutes...
and you're already hitting
on our wing commander?
BLAIR: How was I to know?
MARSHALL: She's just another
tight-ass C.O.
Who cares? Let it go.
Now I'm gonna show you
how to make friends.
MARSHALL: How you doing?
Allow me to introduce myself.
Lieutenant Todd Marshall,
and my close personal friend...
Lieutenant Christopher Blair.
Ladies and gentlemen, take note.
This man happens to be...
the second-best pilot
on this hunk of junk.
HUNTER: Just who are you
calling the best?
-Now, that's a secret.
-Shh. Watch this.
There's two ways to find
that out, mister, uh...
uh, Lieutenant Hunter.
First way involves you trying
to kick the shit out of me.
HUNTER: And the other way?
Forbes?
We're on stand-down.
One won't hurt.
MARSHALL:
Well, it may even help, huh?
Here you go, mate.
Allow me.
You got balls.
-You should see 'em.
-Mine are bigger.
I've been told
size doesn't matter.
She lied.
Do you know what, Hunter?
I would have taken
the third option.
MARSHALL: Really.
I would have kicked his ass
first, then drank his scotch.
Oh! Touchй.
COMPUTER: Message on-line.
Playback in progress.
TOLWYN: Jay,
I'm gonna have to be brief.
The Kilrathi took Pegasus.
They may have her Navcom A.I.
By the time this communication
reaches you...
they will be
twenty-three hours...
from the Charybdis jump point
and Earth.
Confed capital ships
are headed home now.
The Concordia battle group...
will only be able to make it
in twenty-five hours.
I'm ordering the Tiger Claw
to the Charybdis quasar.
You are to use
any means necessary...
to gather information as
to the Kilrathi whereabouts...
capacity, and plan of attack.
I need intelligence, old friend.
Use Taggart.
He knows this space
better than any man alive.
He can get you
to Charybdis quickly.
I don't like it.
What don't you like, Paul?
The disk came to us
on the Diligent...
entrusted to a Pilgrim
half-breed.
Send for this Taggart.
MARSHALL: Why don't you take
his castle...
with your little horsey?
Check...
Mate.
FORBES: So, there's a brain
behind that mouth.
Your friend
always this talkative?
MARSHALL: No, he just made
the fatal error...
of mistaking
our wing commander...
for your average grease monkey.
Listen, all I did was sit
in Commander Chen's fighter.
BLAIR:
Lieutenant Commander Chen?
Bossman?
HUNTER: You're talking about
a bloke that never existed.
I'm pretty sure he did.
He...never...existed.
Now change the subject
quickly, pal...
before I change it for you.
MARSHALL: You got a problem
with my friend,