business.
This is the Diligent
carrying supplies...
and two replacement pilots
for the Tiger Claw.
Stay on course.
Have your captain transmit
his security clearance.
Roger that, Lieutenant.
Taggart on his way.
Fighters
from the Tiger Claw, sir.
They've queried us.
Well, send the countersign.
Roger that.
Identification acknowledged.
They'll escort us in.
Diligent,
you're clear to land in bay 2C.
Welcome to the Tiger Claw.
Captain?
Lieutenant J.G.
Christopher Blair...
reporting for duty, sir.
At ease, Lieutenant.
Commander Gerald tells me
that you have something for me.
Yes, sir.
An encrypted communiquй
from Admiral Tolwyn.
Why didn't the admiral
send a drone via the Pegasus?
The Pegasus was destroyed
by a Kilrathi battle group...
seventeen hours ago.
I see.
Communications?
I want this disk decrypted ASAP.
Yes, sir.
Oh, Lieutenant?
You wouldn't be related
to Arnold Blair, would you?
He was my father, sir.
He married a Pilgrim woman,
didn't he?
Yes, sir.
Pilgrims don't think like us.
You won't have to worry, sir.
They're both dead.
I'm sure
the lieutenant's heredity...
will have no bearing
on his performance, Mr. Gerald.
No, sir. I'm sure it won't.
I suggest you stow your gear...
and familiarize yourself
with the ship.
That's all, Lieutenant.
Yo, B. Look at these rapiers.
They're beat to hell, man.
I don't see any of the hornets
we flew back at the academy.
Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa.
You know what I do see?
Blonde.
Hey, how you doing?
Systems on-line.
Hello, I'm Merlin...
the latest in mobile
interface cockpit--
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?
Getting acquainted
with our new surroundings.
Good job, B.
We're on the ship
five minutes...
and you're already hitting
on our wing commander?
How was I to know?
She's just another tight-ass C.O.
Who cares? Let it go.
Now I'm gonna show you
how to make friends.
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.
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.
And the other way?
Forbes?
We're on stand-down.
One won't hurt.
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.
Really.
I would have kicked his ass
first, then drank his scotch.
Oh! Touchй.
Message on-line.