would you like to return to your ship?
Thank you, I'll stay here.
I'd like to see how the professionals do it.
As you wish.
- Execute jump, Lt. Gaeta.
- Aye, sir. Jump clock is running.
GAETA: Navigation?
CREWMAN 1: Go.
GAETA: FTL?
CREWMAN 2: Go.
GAETA: Tactical?
CREWMAN 3: Go.
GAETA: Flight Ops?
Contact. Dradis contact.
Incoming, bearing 060, carom 308.
- Hold count.
- Count held.
DUALLA: Contact is...
CREWMAN 1: Hold the count.
Well?
[lntense instrumental music]
- Cylon Raider, sir.
- You're right. It's just a matter of time.
He's on an intercept course. He'll be on us
before we complete the jump.
Action stations, launch Vipers.
TIGH: [Over PA] Action stations. Launch
alert, Vipers. Cylon Raider approaching.
[Alarm blaring]
STARBUCK: Now look
before you shoot, please.
GAETA: Gun captains report
weapons manned and ready.
TIGH: Where the hell are the Vipers?
DUALLA: Most are being fuelled.
DUALLA: Hot Dog and Apollo
are in the tubes.
LAUNCH OFFICER: Viper I, clear forward.
Navcon Green, interval failure. Abort launch.
Frack!
I guess I'm going solo.
Why only one Cylon this time?
It could be a lone recon mission...
or the vanguard for a Cylon base ship
about to jump on top of us.
Either way, we're going to have
to take it out before we can jump.
Galactica, Apollo. Target in sight.
[Suspenseful instrumental music]
You idiot. Didn't anybody teach you
intercept protocol?
STARBUCK: Okay, we're going to have
to do this the hard way then.
This bastard's good.
They're closing fast.
Port guns have a firing solution.
Very well.
- Hold still, you little...
- No cigar for you.
Just come a little bit closer.
Not that close!
What the...
I've lost him.
Galactica, I repeat, he is nowhere to be seen.
- Dradis.
- No help. Their reports have merged.
TIGH: Launch tube status?
DUALLA: Still fouled.
- We'll have a Viper away in 45 seconds.
- This will be over in 45 seconds.
Holy...
Galactica, the Cylon is now flying
in formation with me...
right above my head.
APOLLO: This thing is acting weird.
ADAMA: Put me through.
[Laughing happily]
APOLLO: It's Starbuck!
ADAMA: What?
Come again, Apollo.
Galactica, the Cylon Raider
is marked "Starbuck."
It's written under the fracking wing.
[All cheering]
Bring it into the bay.
If it does anything, take it out.
APOLLO: Wilco, Galactica,
but I tell you what, it's got to be her.
This thing is flying
with some serious attitude.
[Apollo laughing]
Now your ass belongs to me.
Like my new toy?
Boy, when you take a souvenir,
you don't screw around.
- Oh, my God, you smell like a latrine.
- You want to give me a bath?
- How're you feeling?
- Been a hell of a lot worse.
Don't have any ambrosia, but the Doc...
can fix you up with some really nice stuff.
It's not bad, is it? The knee?
Doc says it's too early to tell,
but knowing you, you'll be fine.
- Kara.
- Yeah?
You did good.
[Soft instrumental music]
ADAMA: [Whispering] Get better, okay?
- Need anything?
- A stogie would be nice.
I had a feeling.
- It's my last one, so enjoy it.
- Thank you.
Get some rest.
[Theme music]NARRATOR: Previously on
Battlestar Galactica:
[Dramatic instrumental music]
Sharon, get out of here!
Where are you? Sharon!
TYROL: Halt! No sudden moves.
Get on your knees
and cross your ankles. Now!
I'm human. I'm from Oasis.
It's a hamlet, public stop.
I'm out of Havoca City.
I'm not a Cylon!
Don't leave me!
SPEAKER: Attention, the Scorpia Traveller
has docked.
Any civilians currently boarding Galactica
please proceed to security checkpoint.
[Sinister instrumental music]
Thank you.
SPEAKER: Flight Maintenance Crew Bravo
report to Flight 3.
CORPORAL: Next.
Next.
MAN: Yes, okay.
TYROL: It's all clear?
CALLY: I've got your back, Chief.