old.
(D'Anna)
Maybe l need a new one.
What the hell is going on?
l don't know.
You don't know.
l'm the Vice President.
She's supposed to be
interviewing me, isn't she?
Well, of course she should.
Your title alone
commands respect.
Of course it does.
lt's a rare commodity
around here.
l mean,
l'm the Vice President.
l'm not going beg.
l'll tell you that much.
(Dualla)
Miss Biers, our next stop--
Now, Gaius,
you may have to beg.
You'll do whatever's necessary
to protect our child.
Politics may not be your
strong suit, but it serves us
in the moment.
Trust me.
This one can help us.
Mr. Vice President?
Hello.
Hi. D'Anna Biers,
Fleet News Service.
Oh, you're the reporter.
That's right. Cmdr. Adama
said the News Service
might be joining us.
l suppose you're...
well, very busy doing
a lot of interviews,
l would imagine.
Well, l would love
to speak to you.
lf you've got a second,
we can do it now.
No. l'm afraid not.
l am very busy.
Really, really busy,
at the moment.
Snowed under.
But if you get in touch with
one of my aides, there might
be a small window tomorrow.
l'm not promising anything,
honestly.
But, l might be able to
give you an interview then...
if that's what
you would like.
Good.
Good.
Well, you just...carry on.
What a strange little man.
(D'Anna)
Capt. Adama...
l hardly recognized you
with your clothes on.
Look, l'm sure you thought
it was clever...
busting into the pilot's
duty locker, but the area's
off-limits for a reason.
lt's the one place where
my people can unwind,
be themselves.
You seem to think that
your pilots deserve
special consideration.
Actually, l do.
Like everyone else...
my pilots have
lost their families,
their friends...
everyone they ever
cared about.
But on top of that, they are
asked to put their lives
on the line...
every single day...
for a fleet that seems
more interested in
what they do wrong...
than in what they do right.
They're not asking for
your pity, but they damn well
deserve your respect.
(men chattering)
Gods, Chief, we've already
run this up twice.
Yeah, something
doesn't feel right.
What?
Something doesn't feel right.
Well, hurry up.
(grunts)
That's it.
Great.
Oh, that's fantastic.
That's just great.
l knew it.
How did l miss that?
Maybe if your knuckledraggers
spent more time
on maintenance...
and less time
frakking around....
This knuckledragger
just saved your ass, sir.
Why don't you say that
a little louder, Chief?
l don't think
the camera heard you.
You know what?
Frak the camera.
You've been riding my...
Don't even try defending--
..for no frakking reason!
Knock it off!
Chief, fix the ship.
Yeah, fix the--
Hey!
What?
Hey, enough!
Chief, fix your ship.
You get the hell
out of here, now.
Get the camera out of my face.
(thudding)
She has been
pissing me off all week.
What the hell's going on?
l'm taking her off rotation
until she gets
her head rewired. l mean....
Can't do it.
We need the pilots.
Besides, if l scratched
everyone who popped off
at the Chief...
the cooks would be
flying the missions.
Son of a bitch.
Did you get all that?
You happy?
Come on.
Walk away.
We were never trained
for crowd control.
First order of business when
under attack is defend
yourself and your squad.
But these were civilians.
l have 10 stitches that say
we were under attack.
Truth is, it was a command
frak-up the moment Tigh put us
on that supply ship.
l'm not surprised someone's
trying to take out
that drunk son of a bitch.
All right. Private.
Belay that.
Col. Tigh's been threatened?
No. This interview's over.
Shut that off.
Commander.
Watch your step, please.
Okay, come on.
Sitrep.
Fleet's quiet,
no enemy contact
for the last 10 days.
No Cylon contact, anyway.
Well, they have
their job to do.
We have ours.
Did you hear about
the meeting on Cloud Nine?
Reps flying in
from every vessel
in the fleet...
for a king-