02x09 - Flight of the Phoenix

[bunniefuu]

Previously on Battlestar Galactica:

We network the FTL computer with the nav DC and fire control computers.

Once they're linked, we'll only need ten minutes to complete the calculations.

Really, you're going to outthink the Cylons in computer software?

Cylons are hacking our network.

Attempting to access our mainframe.

What the hell was that?

It's the virus, sir.

I think it must have spawned copies of itself in some of the computer systems.

It's knocked out main power and auxiliary units.

I love you, Chief.

What do you want from me, Helo?

She's a Cylon.

I'm not going to let you k*ll her.

Okay, she's carrying my child.

I have terminal breast cancer.

Dr. Cottle will verify the diagnosis.

I have a few months to live.

Viper 289, how are we feeling today?

Oh, great.

Hey, Karl Agathon.

You want to sit in?

Maybe next time.

So he's the Cylon lover.

You know what?

I don't care who or what he fraks.

He saved my ass down there, all right?

How could anyone fall in love with a toaster, though?

Same way I hear everyone was high-fiving our Sharon right before she put two in Adama's chest.

The bastards frak with your head.

Yeah.

Just ask the Chief.

I knew it.

I need a drink.

Ready?

Rested, anyway.

Nothing to do but eat and sleep in the can.

Hey.

"Unauthorized discharge of a firearm"?

What a bogus charge.

I know.

They should have given you a medal for popping that toaster.

Hey, Chief.

Chief.

I heard that you went to bat for me.

Forget it.

I want you to know... Forget it.

I need all the knuckledraggers I can get.

Sharon flew 47 missions in this thing.

Still couldn't trap a landing worth a damn.

Had to bend the undercarriage back into place after every landing.

Approaches made her nervous.

She was afraid you'd be watching.

I usually was.

Screw it.

You're folding with three up?

Are you crazy?

Not when you've got me b*at.

Prince high red, right?

Been playing with these cards for so long, I know every fold.

So life's a bitch.

What do you want to do, cry about it?

No, I just want it to end, okay?

The bad food, the endless rotations, pretending that a card game is the high point of our day.

It's not going to last forever, all right?

Earth is out there.

Right.

We could all be chasing our tails over some half-assed planetarium show.

And you guys can all go to hell.

I'm going to go find Helo.

Good idea.

Maybe that Cylon whore taught him a few tricks.

Hey!

Look, Chief.

I never intended for Sharon and I to... you know, it just kind of evolved.

Just a couple lovesick kids, huh?

I know how she felt about you, okay?

She loves you.

Did she fill you in on the rest of the plan?

She and I were going to muster out at the end of our service.

You know, then we would get married.

Maybe we would have children.

I guess I'm just a big frakkin' idiot, though, huh?

Probably that g*dd*mn toaster's plan all along.

Don't call her that.

Sucker some moron into giving her a kid.

Hey, you know, but you know what?

I should probably be grateful to you.

Probably be grateful.

You know why?

Because that freak in her belly could have been mine.

Hey, you okay?

I'm sorry.

Son of a...

That's enough, Chief!

You don't get to call it.

Enough!

Come on, you damn toaster lover!

I don't even know why I'm mad at you.

My Sharon's dead.

That thing in the brig, that isn't Sharon.

Roger, Blue leader.

Say fuel state.

Ah!

What the hell is that?

It was us, sir.

But I can't find a source for the transmission.

Something's triggering our com system to broadcast an a*t*matic signal.

Which the Cylons could trace to get a fix on our position.

Let's assume that for now.

Update and distribute the emergency Jump sites just in case they show up again.

Dee, get me a...

I'm okay. I'm okay, sir.

Stay down.

We'll get you up to Doc Cottle, make sure everything's okay.

Gaeta, find out what happened.

I'm okay.

Mr. Gaeta.

A power surge energized the board.

System's been twitchy ever since the Cylons infiltrated our network.

Mr. Gaeta, this is more than a glitch.

Commander's right.

I don't care if you have to go through this program line by line; fix it.

Excuse me?

You heard me.

Sir, I'm running every diagnostic we've got.

Checking each line of code could take days.

I am not interested in excuses.

Fix it!

It's not an excuse, sir.

It's a frakking fact!

Mr. Gaeta.

Yes, sir.

Pull yourself together.

I'm sorry, sir.

What the hell is his problem?

Months on the run, and what do we have to show for it?

Casualties.

Deteriorating conditions.

This crew needs a rest.

It's finally hitting them, that's all.

Our old lives are gone.

The only thing we have to look forward to is this.

Hey, Chief, where's 289?

I need her for drills today.

Ship's grounded, sir.

What? For how long?

Permanently.

We're salvaging what we can, but it's gone.

Damn it, I need that ship online.

What can I tell you, Captain?

Engine mounts are sh*t.

Cockpits seals are cracked.

If it was a horse, I'd sh**t it.

Got something, Chief.

Come on, Chief.

Work with me here. I need your help.

What do want me to do, work my crew to death?

No, just do your best.

Nobody's expecting any miracles.

Maybe that's the problem.

Frak it. Why not?

What's going on, Chief?

All right, here's the deal.

We are going to build a new fighter.

What about the rest of the ships?

I'm three days backlogged on repairs as is.

This is strictly an off-duty project.

Nobody takes one minute away from regular maintenance and repairs.

You got it?

You don't think we can do this?

I wouldn't even know how to begin.

What else is new?

Oh, screw you.

He's talking about fabricating a frame, avionics, life support.

It's frakkin' impossible.

You know what, then?

Forget you.

I don't need you.

Chief, wait.

It's not like that.

I said forget it.

Get back to work.

That's an order.

How much time do I have?

Weeks.

A month at the outside.

Will I be able to work?

Unless the cancer goes to your brain.

That happens, you...

Someone's a tad aggressive.

Just shut up and sh**t.

My gods, between you and Racetrack, it's like... having a conversation is like walking through a minefield.

And you're the last person who should be lecturing me about manners.

From what I hear, you've also been riding Chief Tyrol pretty good.

Impressive.

I just reminded him that I expect Viper maintenance to take precedence over his hobby project.

Nice!

I'm surprised he didn't take a swing at you.

Come on, Starbuck.

You don't actually think that piece of junk's gonna actually fly, do you?

50 cubits says he gets it in the air.

Yeah?

And who's gonna fly it?

It's not gonna be me.

Don't look at me.

I wasn't looking at you.

What?

I'll fly it.

I'll fly it.

Me.

Why?

Because... while everyone else is standing around whining...

We're whining?

The Chief is doing something positive.

I'm deeply moved.

Really?

Honestly, I am.

His lips are blue.

You look like a blueberry.

There's no oxygen in here.

There's no oxygen in here.

There's no oxygen.

I'm out.

Nice sh*t.

The environmental computer decided that the f*ring range was overpressurized and started bleeding out air to compensate.

Two more minutes, and we'd have been dead.

Power fluctuations, equipment failures.

Sir, I think I've found what's causing it.

What is that?

It's a Cylon logic b*mb.

A heuristic computer virus.

It's capable of learning, evolving, and probably running in parallel with every computer in the ship right now, just waiting to be activated.

No doubt left behind when the Cylons infiltrated the network Colonel Tigh set up the day you were sh*t, sir.

That was weeks ago.

Why now?

Most likely, sir, it took this long for it to cr*ck our encrypted pass codes.

And once that happened, it started testing its ability to control our systems... electrical, environmental.

How do you k*ll it?

Well, that's the tricky part.

If it's a Cylon virus, it is extremely difficult to eradicate.

Well, I guess I'm pretty lucky, then, 'cause I have an expert on board.

Tell Helo to run this past our prisoner.

Come on. Come on.

Son of a bitch.

I got it; go back to work.

It's a two-man job, Chief.

You want this wing up or not?

On three. One, two, three.

Great, great.

Hold it there.

Sir?

We're continuing to experience power spikes and equipment failures across the ship.

Thank you.

We'd better up our alert status and put our damage-control teams on stand-by.

Not yet.

Have you seen this ship that the Chief is building?

His imaginary fighter?

I don't need to see it to know it's a waste of time.

The deck crew doesn't seem to think so.

We need to focus on the fleet we've got left, not get bogged down in some pipe dream.

We should shut it down.

It may come to that.

But this project, it's giving them something.

I'm not going to take that away... until I have to.

Doc Cottle cleared me.

Feel like hitting something.

Okay.

Don't square up. Don't square up.

Rotate.

And just drop the knee.

Attention on Galactica.

Power outage reported on Deck 12.

That's nice.

No.

If you want to throw them, I'll be you.

Head in a lock.

Grab the wrist.

Secure the arm.

And I'm just going to drop the knee, rotate 45.

Okay.

Are you all right?

Yeah.

Just like we did in basic.

Let's bring a live opponent into the mix.

And strip the Kn*fe.

Um...

Billy.

Hey.

Hey.

How long have you been on board?

I just arrived.

Do you have actual memories of being with the Chief before the Cylon att*ck?

Yeah.

I'm sorry. You asked.

Do you still love him?

Helo.

You're the father of my child.

You're the first in my heart.

And nothing is ever going to change that.

All right, we have to get to this.

Dr. Baltar said it's some sort of Cylon logic b*mb.

Can you flip?

Sharon?

Sharon, what's wrong?

Sharon!

I need to talk to Commander Adama.

Right now.

Why?

It's a Cylon virus, all right.

It's been learning your systems, testing, adapting, finding weak spots.

For what?

So they can turn Galactica's systems against you.

Crash you into other ships, detonate your weapons stores, suffocate the crews.

What about you, the baby?

I'm a liability to them, a mistake.

Helo, this logic b*mb will run its course in a matter of hours.

Once it does, the Cylons will be on top of us.

They're gonna k*ll us all.

Commander Adama...

Whatever it is you have to say, make it quick.

Well, I hate to say it, but you've got the cockpit too far back.

You're gonna run into CG problems when you maneuver.

We're not going for maneuverability, Captain.

We're going for speed.

Besides, you didn't think this thing would fly anyway.

Well, it sure as hell won't with the cockpit rammed up its a...

Dee?

Hey.

What are you doing here?

Communications, I think.

Chief's great with the hydraulics, but this com system's a mess.

Ten hut.

Had to see this with my own eyes.

Won't be long before we have the whole CIC down here.

You working on this class project too, Apollo?

No, sir.

It's good to see someone has a little sense.

Where's the Chief, the tool room?

Ah, getting in some rack time, sir.

What's this, Chief?

I'm making solvent, sir, to clean machine parts.

Solvent my ass.

I know a still when I smell it.

What the hell are you up to?

I need booze to trade for parts.

I'm scrounging most of what I can from the fleet, but I need engines.

I know I need Commander Adama's permission to cannibalize one of the wrecks.

Engines or not, we both know that piece of crap out there is never going to fly.

I gotta try, Colonel.

What's the point?

Because that ship, the work, that's all I've got left.

I don't have that, I...

I almost forgot.

I promised the XO of the Baah Pakal I'd help him out.

Sir?

He's got some obsolete DDG-62 engines taking up space on his flight deck.

They're probably crap, but I told him that I would have a crew in there to haul 'em out as soon as possible.

Glad to be of help, sir.

Good.

Madam President, your shuttle's ready.

Of course.

Thank you again for letting me use your quarters.

Please.

I wanted to return this.

This was a gift.

"Never lend a book," I know.

But I've had it far too long.

It belongs in your collection.

I'm late for a Quorum meeting.

Is there a problem?

Our computers have been infected by a Cylon virus, corrupting systems throughout the entire ship.

I've just been notified that this is a prelude to an all-out att*ck by the Cylons.

I assume you've tried to disable it.

Mr. Gaeta and the vice president are handling that right now.

I'm not hopeful.

Commander, I'm not sure what I can offer you here besides my moral support.

Actually, Madam President, I could use your advice.

You want to what?

Completely erase our computer drives, cold restart the entire ship's system, then restore them using our prewar backups.

Leaving us with our pants down until we're back online.

The Commander will never go for this.

I've already spoken to him, sir.

What did he say?

He's considering it.

It's the only way to destroy the virus.

I thought the Commander told you to stay out of this.

I'm sorry; do you want to survive this one or not, Colonel?

All right, so we calculate a Jump and get some distance on these Cylon bastards...

No, sir, we can't risk a Jump.

All of our systems are compromised, including navigation.

The virus could drop us in the middle of a sun.

We're running out of time; our signal's going to catch up with the Cylon fleet.

If have not come up with anything before then...

They'll take control of all of our systems, and then they'll have a hundred ways to k*ll us.

I've just come from seeing our Cylon prisoner.

She's offering a possible solution to the problem.

And you're wondering if you can trust her.

It took everything I have not to put my hands around her throat.

I can't believe I'm contemplating this.

We both know the Cylons are experts at manipulation.

They will do anything to confuse you.

This is not the one who sh*t me.

Can they really be that different from one another?

Commander, if you're asking me if it's possible that your judgment's been clouded by your history with this particular Cylon model, well, I'd have to say yes.

But... we created them.

There's always a chance we might find common ground.

We need to work quickly.

We're on borrowed time.

Let her go.

Dee, do you still carry your father's pocket Kn*fe?

Give it to her.

Mr. Gaeta, can you set me up with a fiber-optic com link?

I need broadcast to all frequencies and direct link to the mainframe.

Do it.

Sir.

Right here, Sha...

Thanks.

Dradis.

Here they come.

Multiple targets.

Bearing 371 carom 552.

Cylon Raiders.

Bastards tracked us, all right.

Launch Vipers.

Apollo, the Raiders are holding.

Galactica, Apollo.

Raiders are holding formation.

Repeat, Raiders are holding formation.

I can't believe it.

Okay, this is how it's going to work.

The Raiders are going to send a signal to activate the virus.

It could take a few seconds.

On my mark, initiate the computer wipe.

Miss the window...

The virus takes over every system in the ship.

Yeah.

Sometimes you gotta roll the hard six.

Right, Commander?

What the hell is she doing?

They've made contact, sir.

It's moving too fast; I can't follow it.

We gotta stop this.

Mr. Gaeta.

Stand by to execute computer wipe on my command.

Systems ready, sir.

Wipe the hard drives now.

Do it.

My gods, what are they doing?

Weapons are still offline.

No dradis. Systems down.

We're looking at a godsdamned bloodbath.

We're defenseless.

Apollo, Hotdog.

Here they come!

All right, copy, Hotdog.

Gods, there must be hundreds of them.

Cylons are still moving in.

She set us up!

Give me your sidearm.

If they're coming for you, they're gonna be very disappointed.

Do it.

What are you waiting for?

This.

What the hell?

We just transmitted a signal.

Uh, Galactica?

They... they seem to have lost power.

They're drifting out of control!

What the hell?

Cylons sent a computer virus.

But we just sent one back.

Apollo, this is Galactica.

k*ll the bastards.

Yeah!

Come on, baby.

Roger that.

Vipers, weapons free.

Engage.

This... this is payback.

Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!

Whoo!

Yeah!

How do you like that?

You seeing this?

Got this toaster padlocked.

Come on!

I got another where that one came from!

Guys, clean 'em up!

Come on; let's go.

Officers.

Take this thing back to its cell.

There you go, Chief.

Nice to be small, huh?

Ship's got more than one engine.

Get to it.

We are so damn close.

There has got to be some extra metal lying around that we can use to skin this thing.

Floorboards, extra bulkheads, something.

Most of it's ticketed for Viper repair.

Damn.

Who says you need metal?

Carbon composite.

Good call, Helo.

It's going to be hard as hell to see on dradis, but the question is, will it fly?

Just watch me.

Instruments... in the green.

Fuel pressure... nominal.

Apollo, Starbuck.

Blackbirdflight is cleared for launch.

Run-up.

Oh, don't blow up on me, you bastard.

Blackbird is away.

Hey!

Hey.

Will you take it easy?

Start slow.

You're testing the ship.

It's not about the pilot showing off.

Gods damn it, what is this?

What are you trying to prove?

I'm not trying to prove anything.

You've got to be kidding me.

Whoo!

Oh, lords.

Okay.

Let's see what this baby can do.

Starbuck, where are you?

Starbuck, do you hear me?

Starbuck!

She's gone.

Galactica, Apollo, I've lost her.

I've lost her.

No dradis contact.

Starbuck, Starbuck, where are you?

Starbuck, come in.

Starbuck, do you read?

Kara, are you okay?

Of course you lost contact.

It's a damned stealth ship, remember?

Oh, you...

Commander on deck.

As you were.

Chief Tyrol?

This is the Blackbird.

Yes, ma'am.

Madam President, this is an honor.

No, the honor's mine.

It's remarkable.

Just a ship, ma'am.

Oh, you're much too modest.

After what we've been through, it would be very easy to give up, to lose hope.

But not here.

Not today.

This is more than a ship, Chief.

This is an act of faith.

It is proof that despite all we've lost, we keep trying.

And we will get through this, all of us, together.

I promise.

Commander.

Uh, Madam President.

Mmm.

This was supposed to be a surprise, but, well...

Thank you.

If you'll do us the honors, Madam President.

Oh.

Okay.

Whoa!

Kidding.

pop!

Hell of an idea, using carbon composites.

It was a good job.

Nice work.

That was lovely.

They wanted to do that for you.

Thank you.

None of this would have been possible if you hadn't trusted the Cylon.

I took your advice, met on common ground.

What was that?

We both wanted to live.

This one make your jaw drop Lets ja...