Wing Commander Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Wing Commander script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Matthew Lillard and Freddie Prinze Jr. movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Wing Commander. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Wing Commander Script



           JOHN F. KENNEDY: Many years ago...

            the great British explorer George Mallory...

            who was to die on Mount Everest...

            was asked why did he want to climb it.

            He said, "Because it is there."

            Well, space is there, and we're going to climb it.

            And the moon and the planets are there.

            And new hopes for knowledge and peace are there.

            And, therefore, as we set sail...

            we ask God's blessing...

            on the most hazardous and dangerous...

            and greatest adventure on which man has ever embarked.

            Thank you.


            MAN: I hereby declare this new world...

            a colony of the Terran Confederation.

            REPORTER: With the charting of the fourth pulsar this year...

            the Pilgrim explorers are becoming a discussion point.

            MAN: We are gathered here to celebrate Dr. Peter Anthony.

            His invention of the Navcom A.I.

            is possibly the most important development in space travel...

            of the last century.

            Finally, we can navigate almost any jump...

            in known space with confidence.

            Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Dr. Peter Anthony.

            PILOT: Coming up on the far side...

            Looks like maybe three or four kilometers long.

            CONTROL: Copy that, Sparrow. Proceed.

            PILOT: It's like nothing I've ever seen before.

            Wait. Something's going on here.

            [Radio static]

            REPORTER: With escalating tension in the Vega sector...

            the whole Confederation is on a knife edge.

            Will these unprovoked attacks continue?

            Will the diplomatic probes be successful?

            We can only hope...

            AMBASSADOR: I regret to report...

            that all diplomatic avenues with the Kilrathi...

            have been exhausted.

            It is now clear they have no interest...

            in coexisting with us or any other race.

            It is my sad duty to inform you...

            that as of Six A.M. this morning...

            we are formally at war with the Kilrathi.

            God help us all.

            HELMSMAN: T.C.S. Vanguard now clearing outer marker.

            Course four-six-niner, logged for the Charybdis quasar.

            Ready to receive Navcom coordinates for the jump.

            CONTROL: Roger that. Transmitting now.

            Have a safe trip back to Earth.

            RADIO: Freighter Delta.

            Losing elevator-effect thrust.

            Request trajectory.

            RADIO: T.C.S. McClellan requesting flyby.


            [Siren blaring]

            OFFICER: I got one-nine-zero bogies inbound.

            Vector three-seven-four, attack formation.

            WILSON: Status!

            OFFICER: Forty Kilrathi ships coming to bear, Admiral.

            They're powering weapons.

            The Iowa's gone! And the Kobi.

            MAN: We have a station breach!

            Levels seven, eleven, and thirteen.

            They're headed towards command and control!

            Destroy the Navcom A.I. Now.

            COMPUTER: Self-destruct malfunction.

            TECHNICIAN: Command codes have been overwritten.

            COMPUTER: Station breach, level six.

            Station breach, level two.

            COMPUTER: Command center breach imminent.

            WILSON: Prepare a drone. Get me a coded channel.

            This is Admiral Wilson...

            Pegasus station commanding officer.

            Forty Kilrathi capital ships are closing.

            Station has been breached. They want the Navcom.

            Repeat--they want the Navcom.

              The station has been breached.

              They want the Navcom.

              Repeat--they want the Navcom.

              The Pegasus Navcom.

              My God, if they have it...

              TOLWYN: What's the fleet's position?

              RICHARD: We're spread out all over the sector.

              The earliest our advanced elements can reach Sol...

              is forty-two hours...

              and that is taking risks with the jumps, sir.

              TOLWYN: Give me the Vega and Sol sectors.

              COMPUTER: Estimated Kilrathi fleet's position.

              Projected time of travel to Earth, forty hours.

              Locating main Confederation fleet.

              Estimated time to Earth space, forty-two hours.

              A mere two hours could decide the outcome of this war.

              Signal all ships to mark our course...

              and make full speed for Earth.

              I need to know what the Kilrathi are up to, Richard.

              Do we have any more ships left in Vega?

              Just one, sir. The Tiger Claw.

              But she's beyond the range of our communications...

              and a drone will take two days to reach her.

              TOLWYN: Who's this?

              RICHARD: It's a requisitioned merchantman...the...


              The Diligent.

              RICHARD: Yes, sir.

              Captained by James Taggart...

              at present en route to the Tiger Claw...

              with two replacement pilots--

              First Lieutenants Todd Marshall and Christopher Blair.

              Open a secure channel to the Diligent immediately.

              I want to speak with her captain...

              and with this First Lieutenant Blair.

              [Door opens]

              MARSHALL: Hey, Captain wants you on the bridge.

              Say's it's top priority.


              I don't know who you know, Lieutenant...

              but you got a Confed code one...

              secure communication from Admiral Tolwyn.

              COMPUTER: Waiting.


              Transmission nominal. Long distance...connected.

              At ease, Lieutenant.

              -Yes, sir, Admiral. -Good.

              You are currently outbound...

              to the Vega sector and the Tiger Claw.

              I need you to hand-deliver...

              an encrypted communications chip to her captain.

              Why not send it by drone to the Pegasus, sir?

              That'd be quicker.

              The Pegasus is gone...

              destroyed by a Kilrathi battle group...

              twelve and a half hours ago.

              See that Captain Sansky gets that chip.

              Why me?

              I fought alongside your father in the Pilgrim wars.

              He was a good man.


              TAGGART: Well, guys...

              we have to jump into the Vega sector...

              a little sooner than planned.

              Set a course for beacon     one-quarter impulse...

              and be subtle.

              Setting course for beacon one-four-seven.

              One-quarter impulse.


              MARSHALL: I'm reading that as a       -kilometer...

              no-fly zone, sir.

              Just put in beacon    .

              It's a shortcut.

              Aye, Captain.

              [Knock on door]


              We're holding steady on the beacon.

              Marshall has the helm.

              Those must be antiques.

              They were made by the first explorers in this sector...

              just like the cross you wear under your shirt.

              May I see it?

              There was a time long ago...

              when people looked up to the Pilgrims.

              The stars were their destiny.

              Since the Pilgrims were defeated...

              not a single new quasar has been charted.

              COMPUTER: Increasing thrust...


              COMPUTER: Main engine now at ninety percent.

              TAGGART: Out! You get out!

              Get out, get out!

              MARSHALL: Ow. Jeez!

              What's your problem?

              -What? -Did you change course?

              MARSHALL: No, I didn't change course.

              I just boosted the power. Why dog it?

              We can be at the beacon in, like, under an hour.

              That beacon is marking a gravity well.

              One cubic inch of it...

              exerts more gravitational force than the sun.

              COMPUTER: Navcom on-line.

              TAGGART: lf we approach it too fast...

              we'll be sucked in out of control.

              If I don't realign our entry vector...

              we are not going to make the jump.

              -What happens if we miss? -We die.

              BLAIR: Have we reached the entry vector's PNR yet?

              No, no. Not yet.

              She's reaching out for us.

              Listen to that.

              COMPUTER: Velocity holding-- one-four-two-L-S-S...

              Well, ladies, meet Scylla...

              COMPUTER: Warning-- gravitational anomaly detected.

              Bane to sailors and monster of myth.

              What's a Scylla?

              Ulysses sailed between the whirlpool Charybdis...

              and the island monster, Scylla.

              She snatched six of his men and ate them.

              MARSHALL: Whoa. What is this thing?

              This thing is a distortion in space-time.

              The Pilgrims were the first to chart it.

              If it's charted, why is it off-limits?

              Because it's unstable.

              It's unstable?

              Whoa. It's unstable, and we're gonna jump it?!

              [Alarm blares]

              Navigational computer just went off-line!

              I'm on it!

              -Blair! -Yes, sir?

              You take the helm!

              BLAIR: I never made a jump before.

              TAGGART: Good time to learn!

              MARSHALL: That's it! I don't like this guy.

              B, l--I don't know about you...

              but I really don't like this guy at all, man.


              -Uh...Mr. Taggart? -Yes?

              -Ten seconds to jump, sir. -So?

              So? So if you don't get that computer back on-line, sir...

              this unstable gravity well's gonna suck us in...

              one molecule at a time, sir!

              COMPUTER: Navcom on-line.

              Plot your course, Mr. Blair!

              COMPUTER: Vector one entered and confirmed.

              Vector three entered and confirmed.

              [Marshall yelling]

              What happened?

              You just plotted a jump through a gravity well...

              in under ten seconds...

              and Navcom can't do that.

              That's not bad.

              I mean, that's not bad...

              for the second-best pilot at the academy.

              You shut up!

              Next time you don't follow my orders...

              I'll dump you with the rest of the garbage, you got that?

              You plot a course for the Tiger Claw, Mr. Blair.

              BLAIR: Yes, sir.

              MARSHALL: Jeez.

              Guy's got a serious attitude problem.

              This is Lieutenant Hunter of the T.C.S. Tiger Claw.

              Unidentified freighter bearing two-niner-three...

              state your course and business.

              BLAIR: This is the Diligent carrying supplies...

              and two replacement pilots for the Tiger Claw.

              HUNTER: 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.

              HUNTER: Diligent, you're clear to land in bay  C.

              Welcome to the Tiger Claw.

              GERALD: 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 communiqué 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.


              I want this disk decrypted ASAP.

              OBUTU: Yes, sir.

              GERALD: 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.

              MARSHALL: 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?


              Hey, how you doing?

              MERLIN: Systems on-line.

              Hello, I'm Merlin...

              the latest in mobile 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     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?


              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! Touché.

              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?



              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?


              HUNTER: You're talking about a bloke that never existed.

              I'm pretty sure he did.


              Now change the subject quickly, pal...

              before I change it for you.

              MARSHALL: You got a problem with my friend, Mr. Hunter?

              HUNTER: Yes, I do.

              MARSHALL: That means you got a problem with me.

              -Is that so? -Yeah.

              HUNTER: Well, you're gonna love this.

              He's a Pilgrim!

              DEVEREAUX: Stand down, or you'll have a problem with me.

              I want an explanation.


              -Ma'am? -Ma'am?

              Lieutenant Hunter was just helping Marshall and l...

              feel at home.

              DEVEREAUX: Lieutenant?

              HUNTER: Yeah. That's right, ma'am.

              BLAIR: Yeah. You see?

              I guess this conversation never existed.



              Who in the hell do you think you are?

              Let me give you a reality check.

              In all likelihood, you're going to die out here.

              We're all going to die out here...

              but none of us need to be reminded of that fact...

              so you die, you never existed.


              Yes, ma'am.

              GERALD: Taggart, sir.

              Ah. I know of you, Mr. Taggart...

              but I'm afraid I don't know you.

              And yet you come to me with classified orders...

              from Admiral Tolwyn.

              Oh, I see. The captain doesn't trust me...

              Blair, or the disk.

              Would you?

              Well, uh...



              This tactical schematic outlines a nightmare, Mr. Taggart.

              It tells me that the Kilrathi may have a Navcom...

              and with it the capacity to jump into Earth space.

              And based on that nightmare...

              it orders me to take radical action...

              which, if it and you are a lie...

              could compromise this ship and its crew.

              So I'm bound to ask you, Mr. Taggart...

              what proof do you have that this is authentic?

              Where did you get this?


              thought it might be useful...

              if I ever had to convince a captain...

              to follow his orders.

              Mr. Obutu.

              Plot a course for the Charybdis quasar.

              Full speed, if you please.


              OBUTU: Sir, the nearest jump point to the Charybdis...

              is four days hard travel from our current location.

              TAGGART: There's a class-two pulsar eleven hours from here.

              We can jump there.

              OBUTU: It's not on the chart, sir.

              Navcom does not have those coordinates.

              I have them.

              No one's jumped a pulsar for forty years...

              and even then, they were Pilgrims.

              I don't believe we have a choice, Mr. Gerald.

              If the battle is to be decided in the Charybdis quasar...

              then that's where we have to be.

              Plot your course, Mr. Taggart.


              Sir, that ring means nothing.

              This ring has been in Tolwyn's family for sixteen generations.

              And any man who carries it...

              has the admiral's full confidence!

              Prepare for the jump.

              BLAIR: Hey.

              We goin' out?

              No. Just me.

              I pulled security with Lieutenant Forbes.

              Why'd you wake me up?

              Remember back at the academy?

              You promised you would take that thing off.

              It brings me luck.

              It's gonna get you killed.

              I was wearing it when I made the jump.

              Yeah, but that had nothing to do with luck.

              That was about training, skill, desire.

              Now, please.

              Take the cross off.

              It's who I am.

              You don't even know what it means.

              This is the big show.

              And you gotta have someone watching your back.

              It's either kill or be killed.

              And you know what? I can't always be there.


              Hey, I'm tryin' to be Mr. Sensitive Guy.

              It's just--Ahh!

              I don't even know why I bother.

              All right. Wish me luck.

              BLAIR: Luck?

              What about desire?

              MARSHALL: You seen Lieutenant Forbes?

              You know I got desire.

              BLAIR: Hey, Marshall...



              OFFICER ON LEFT: Message from Earth Command.

              Their defenses are on line, sir, but--

              They don't believe...

              they can withstand a Kilrathi battle group...

              without the support of the fleet.

              But they will fight, sir.

              Earth will never surrender.

              What's our status?

              We're running at one-hundred-and-ten percent.

              We've already lost three ships--

              two at jump points, and one's reactor core melted down.

              Run at one hundred and twenty.

              DEVEREAUX: Now, if Dibbles had the flying skills of a woman...

              he'd still be alive.

              MARSHALL: You gotta be kidding me.

              DEVEREAUX: Don't take it personally, Nugget.

              It's a question of estrogen.

              Women can out fly and outshoot men.

              It has been proven...

              that we can keep track of up to four enemy fighters.

              No, it takes balls, big balls...

              not ovaries, to maintain four enemy fighters...

              and that's a fact, Jack.

              All right, watch this.

              Con. Con. This is Delta Two requesting permission to land.

              RADIO: Delta Two, you're clear to land.

              Delta Two, you're coming in too hot. Abort. I repeat, abort.

              Delta Two. Do you copy?


              Delta Two, you are inverted!

              MARSHALL: Hoo hoo! Not anymore.

              MAN: Aaahhh!

              Now, what were you saying?

              RADIO: Delta One!


              MARSHALL: What are you people lookin' at?

              Carry on about your business.

              Nothin' to see here, ladies and gentlemen.

              Whoo! Oh, now, that was a sweet three-sixty.

              Actually, that was a five-forty.

              Did you just do that to impress me?

              I'm just trying to redirect some of that testosterone.

              You're a total...


              Todd "Maniac" Marshall at your'am!

              Ha ha ha ha!

              Ohh, shit.

              [Intercom buzzes]


              OBUTU: You're needed on the bridge, Captain.

              WILSON: I'll be right there.

              You don't want to be here right now.

              FORBES: Just for you, sir.

              DEVEREAUX: Trying to bribe me?

              FORBES: No.

              No. Um...

              thanks, Angel.

              The flight boss would've brought us up on charges...

              if you hadn't said something.

              Yeah. Yeah, what the hell were you thinking?

              Look, I wasn't.


              Not with my head, anyway.

              You're one of my best pilots.

              I cannot afford to lose you.

              I was just...

              showing off a bit in front of Maniac.



              Lieutenant Marshall.

              He has a new call sign.

              I see.

              Well, I hope it felt very good.




              Better than sex with myself.

              [Both laugh]

              You just see that it never happens again.

              [Opera music playing]

              [Door opens]

              BLAIR: Sir? Can I talk to you?

              TAGGART: Yeah.

              Go ahead.

              BLAIR: My whole life...

              I've taken crap because I'm part Pilgrim.

              And I don't know why.

              Sit down.

              You're one of the last descendants of a dying race.

              Pilgrims were the first human space explorers and settlers.

              For five centuries...

              they defied the odds.

              They embraced space...

              and for that, they were rewarded...

              with the gift of a flawless sense of direction.

              They could feel magnetic fields...

              created by quasars and black holes...

              created by quasars and black holes...

              negotiate singularities...

              navigate not just the stars, but space-time itself.

              Like a Navcom A.I.?

              TAGGART: No, no. You've got it backwards.

              The billions of calculations each second...

              necessary to lead us through a black hole or a quasar...

              is the Navcom recreation of the mind of a single Pilgrim.

              Then why'd the war start?


              You spend so much time out here alone...

              you end up losing your humanity.

              When Pilgrims began to lose touch with their heritage...

              they saw themselves as superior to men.

              And in their arrogance...

              they chose to abandon all things human...

              and follow what they called their "destiny."

              Some say they believed they were gods.

              You believe they were gods?


              But I do believe they were touched by God.

              And like it or not...

              you've got some of that inside you.

              I have to get to the bridge.

              We'll be jumping soon. I want you to be there.

              MAN: This thing's eating suns for breakfast.

              Let's go.

              MAN ON LEFT: What the hell are we doing here?

              HUNTER: You know what we're not doing.

              FORBES: Turning around.

              P.A.: This is the captain.

              Prepare for a level-five jump-point interphase.

              Secure all stations.

              COMPUTER: Attention. Attention.

              Course error.

              Adjust course immediately.

              Steady as she goes.

              COMPUTER: Captain, the ship is headed...

              into the PNR zone of a class-two pulsar.

              One minute until gravitational pull is    %.

              What about it, Mr. Taggart?

              The readings are wrong.

              The sensors are not calibrated to the pulsar.

              They've already been warped by the gravitational fields.

              COMPUTER: Captain, I must insist we change course immediately.

              TAGGART: No!

              Manual override!

              Forget you, artificial intelligence...

              or we're all dead.

              Captain, I think you should reconsider.

              Steady as she goes, helm.

              Aye, aye, sir.

              COMPUTER: Warning. Warning.

              Jump coordinates incorrect.

              This is the captain.

              Fifteen seconds to jump point.

              MARSHALL: Watch. Oh, this is great.

              MAN: Aft shields overloading.

              MARSHALL: Just you and me. Hold on.


              DEVEREAUX: Uhh!

              -Ohh! -Uhh!

              MARSHALL: Ha ha ha ha! Yeah!

              BLAIR: You OK? You all right?

              Where are we?

              TAGGART: Ladies and gentlemen...

              welcome to the Ulysses corridor.

              We're through the jump point.

              We made it.

              Mr. Obutu.

              Stealth mode, if you please.

              Going to stealth.

              Seven percent electronic emission...

              zero communication.

              Radar status.

              Scanners picking up a strong electromagnetic signature...

              at one-eleven mark forty-three.

              An asteroid field.

              -Lieutenant Commander. -Yes, sir.

              Prepare a reconnoiter. I want to know what's out there.

              And, Deveraux...

              I don't want them to know that we're here.

              Not yet.

              Very good, sir.

              MERLIN: Scanning quadrant.

              Lieutenant, I'm picking up metal fragments ahead.

              Alloy structure indicates from a Confederation vessel.

              Angel, you catch that?

              That's from Pegasus.

              Ten thousand men and women...


              just like that.

              The concussion must've blown pieces of the station...

              all over the sector.

              COMPUTER: Warning. ENM emissions.

              -Pipe down. -Two-one-six.

              -Getting something. -Analyzing.

              COMPUTER: Possible I.D. Kilrathi...

              DEVEREAUX: Radio silence now. Get into the asteroids.

              Low power.

              They know we're here?

              MERLIN: Possibly.

              From the sophistication of the equipment onboard...

              I'd say the vessel is a command and communications module.

              What's it commanding?

              MERLIN: At least six other ships down near the Brown Dwarf...

              are communicating with it.

              It seems to be transmitting jump coordinates.

              Angel, they've spotted your heat corona!

              I've got two more bogeys comin' in hot, six o'clock!

              Can't spot them, Blair. Call it.

              BLAIR: Jack in the box on three. One...


              Missile away!

              The big one's shielded!

              I got two more bogeys comin' up from the Brown Dwarf!


              DEVEREAUX: Negative. I count fourteen unfriendlies inbound.

              Looks like two destroyers.

              We're out of here.

              GERALD: You knew what the orders were--

              no contact with the enemy.

              Now you've compromised the mission...

              and the very existence of this ship.

              BLAIR: I had no choice, sir.

              They'd spotted...

              Lieutenant Commander Deveraux's heat signature.

              GERALD: Really? Angel, how sure are you...

              that the Kilrathi had you targeted?

              Given the Lieutenant's background...

              are you really that certain?

              Excuse me?

              It's well documented that Pilgrim saboteurs...

              have been responsible...

              for much of the Confed's problems in this war.

              Did they have me targeted, Lieutenant?

              WILSON: Now, come on. This is sterile conjecture.

              The Kilrathi are well aware...

              that rapiers don't just fly around...

              in deep space without a carrier close by.

              Thank you, Lieutenant. That is all.

              -Sir-- -Dismissed, Lieutenant.

              WILSON: Your assessment, Mr. Gerald?

              GERALD: That concom is running point...

              for the battle group.

              Their fleet won't be far behind.

              So I say we send them a message.

              I can have my fighters up in thirty minutes.

              No, no. That's a mistake.

              Without her fighters...

              the Tiger Claw's vulnerable.

              GERALD: You are a civilian scout, Mr. Taggart...

              not a naval officer.

              Tactical operations are our concern.

              We are the Earth's only hope.

              We need to buy our fleet two hours.

              And you're willing to risk all that...

              chasing after a communications ship?

              WILSON: I'm sorry, Mr. Taggart.

              Destroying the concom with its escorts...

              will slow the Kilrathi.

              Deveraux will lead a strike force.

              And as you have charted the area before...

              you will accompany her.

              If you say so, Captain.

              I do say so, Mr. Taggart.

              -Carry on. -Yes, sir.

              WILSON: Mr. Obutu. Plot a course...

              for the rings of planet four-fifteen.

              Four-fifteen. Aye, aye, sir.

              BLAIR: I need to talk to you.

              -You don't just barge in here. -Here.

              BLAIR: I wear it for luck.

              Is your luck at odds with our mission?

              You think he's right?


              In his mind, I started selling out the Tiger Claw...

              the moment I stepped onboard!

              I don't see how you can be a Pilgrim...

              and fight on our side.

              I'm not a Pilgrim!

              My mother was.

              My father fought for the Confederation.

              And they both died before I was five.

              He was killed trying to save her...

              in the Peron massacre.

              That cross is all I have.

              Sit down, Lieutenant.

              Why do you think they call me Angel?

              I grew up in an orphanage.

              Yeah, my parents died in the same war as yours.

              My sisters told me they were angels gone to heaven...

              so I prayed for them. They weren't angels.

              They were dead, gone. They never existed.

              Like Bossman?

              Emotion gets in the way.

              Commander, emotion is what separates us...

              from the Pilgrims and from the Kilrathi.

              Lieutenant Commander Chen was--was...

              Bossman and I got close.

              In fact, we got too close.

              Then he got himself killed.

              I better suit up.

              We're square, you and l. You saved my hide today.

              [Marshall moans]

              FORBES: Come on, Maniac.

              Fire it up one more time.

              MARSHALL: No, no, no, no.

              I think the big Maniac needs time to refuel.

              FORBES: Don't I take care of you?

              That's a big "yes, sir."

              FORBES: So what about my needs?

              Well, I'm all about your needs, sir.

              FORBES: Really?

              MARSHALL: Yeah, and right now you need...

              to shut up and go to sleep, woman.

              to shut up and go to sleep, woman.

              You know, you make it all worth it.

              Make what worth it?

              Coming way out here to fight.

              Leaving everything I love back at home.

              Remember the briefing.

              By the time you return...

              everyone you know will be dead and buried.

              Yeah, well...

              you know what?

              I don't care about any of that.

              OFFICER: Attention, all Baker wing pilots...

              report to the flight deck.

              Repeat, all Baker wing pilots report to the flight deck.

              MARSHALL: Oh, shit.

              This war is really starting to piss me off.

              Big time.

              MARSHALL: Ha. Let's go.

              All right, ladies, listen up.

              We have a concom with escorts.

              That means two, possibly three destroyers...

              fighters, and support ships.

              Primary target is the concom.

              Everything else is gravy.

              BLAIR: Just keep your mind on the Kilrathi, Maniac.

              DEVEREAUX: Let's make them bleed.

              Mount up.

              Blair, you'll take Hunter's wing.

              MARSHALL: Watch your back.

              HUNTER: Ma'am, I'd as soon you assign me another wingman.

              DEVEREAUX: You have a problem I should be aware of?

              HUNTER: Yes, ma'am, I do. I don't fly with Pilgrims.

              DEVEREAUX: You'll fly my wing.

              BLAIR: Are you sure?

              DEVEREAUX: Did I give a suggestion or an order?

              BLAIR: I got your wing, ma'am.

              DEVEREAUX: Picking up any com traffic, Baker Seven?


              Must be observing radio silence...

              except for short range frequencies.

              Baker Two, Three, and Four-- anything?

              BLAIR: Negative, chief.

              FORBES: Nothing happening, boss.

              HUNTER: Scope's clear, boss.

              [Alarm sounds]

              COMPUTER: Possible hostile contacts...

              bearing three-zero-nine, local vector norton.

              MARSHALL: All right, you losers, listen up.

              I got three confirmed targets...

              bugging that big Brown Dwarf down there.

              FORBES: Confirm that.

              The middle one has a massive electromagnetic signature.

              DEVERAUX: All right, ladies, it's the concom.

              Deploy for attack.

              TAGGART: That's no concom. Abort!

              DEVEREAUX: Baker Seven, you have no authority...

              over this mission or its personnel.

              Forget it, Baker One.

              These are supply ships left behind...

              by the Kilrathi battle group.

              The Tiger Claw is in danger.

              You are a civilian scout.

              Commander, I'm not a civilian.

              I hold the rank of Commodore in naval intelligence...

              reporting directly to Admiral Tolwyn.

              My call sign is Paladin.

              My security verification code is Charlie-six-alpha-zebra-niner.

              Try it, commander, now.

              COMPUTER: Accessing.

              Commodore James Taggart, naval intelligence.

              Call sign: Paladin.

              TAGGART: Listen to me, Angel.

              If I'm wrong, you'll miss out...

              on taking a couple of freighters.

              But if I'm right...

              the Tiger Claw could already be under attack.

              FORBES: The Claw is already in that radiation belt, boss.

              They couldn't radio for us even if they wanted to.

              PILOT: Security check, alpha two...

              nothing to report in this quadrant.

              Everything is A-OK.

              Wait a minute. What the--

              Who is breaking radio silence?

              Multiple targets inbound, sir.

              GERALD: Battle stations! Launch all fighters!

              Battle stations. Battle stations.

              P.A: All fighters scramble. All fighters scramble.

              Get that deck clear!

              MAN: Get the safeties off those!

              Let's get those things in the air!

              [Men shouting]

              MAN: You're fueled up.

              Opening hangar doors now.

              Delta Three...


              All fighters launched, sir.

              GERALD: Sir!

              WILSON: Shields up!

              OBUTU: All shields are engaged.

              I count three dozen Kilrathi star fighters...

              two destroyers, and one battleship, sir.

              That damn Taggart was right.

              Maybe he knew something we didn't.

              PILOT: Stay on my wing.

              -Copy, Baker Leader. -I'm right behind you.

              -I'm on this one. -Get him off my tail!

              Torpedoes incoming.

              Brace for impact!

              Mr. Falk, give me a target.

              FALK: Target acquisition imminent.

              We've locked on to one of the destroyers, sir.

              Fire tubes one and two!

              Tracking two more torpedoes.

              Hard to port.


              OBUTU: Force shield suffering forty percent failure.

              Battery room reports a fire.

              I'm getting a dozen more targets behind the battleship.

              They're bringing in reinforcements.

              We should be flattered.

              Torpedo room report.

              Tubes three and four are damaged.

              Autoloaders are not operational.

              FALK: Captain, I'm getting a coded friend or foe...

              acknowledge from the new star fighters.

              It's Deveraux's wing.

              All right, ladies, let's do it.

              All rapiers except Maniac and Blair...

              engage those Dralthi.

              See ya later, Nugget.

              Watch your back, Rosie.

              Broadswords, follow me in.

              Maniac, Blair, cover us.

              MARSHALL: Whoo-hoo-hoo!

              BLAIR: Nice shooting, Maniac.

              Buy one, get one free.

              DEVEREAUX: OK, we've cleared a path for the bombers.

              Let's get back to the action.

              MARSHALL: Roger that.

              Steady on course, Mr. Knight.

              PILOT: The flak's too heavy. Let's launch now.

              TAGGART: Wait for them to launch a torpedo.

              They'll lower their shield just before.

              -I'm hit! -Almost there.

              TAGGART: Steady, my friend. Almost--

              OBUTU: Hull breach, level three!

              Shields not functioning.

              Power at thirty percent.

              GERALD: Sir!


              Steering loss, eighty percent.

              GERALD: Medic to the bridge.

              Bogey on my six.

              Blair, help me out here.

              Blair, where the hell are you?

              I said, help me out here.

              BLAIR: Is that a suggestion or an order, ma'am?

              DEVERAUX: Definitely an order.

              Wait. The battleship's preparing to launch.

              She's going to finish off the Tiger Claw.

              BLAIR: Where's Paladin?

              No visual contact.

              Baker Leader...

              get your fighters clear of the pulse wave.

              DEVERAUX: Roger that.

              Maniac, Blair, return to ship.

              BLAIR: Yes, ma'am.

              Au revoir, mes amis.

              MARSHALL: Hey, Forbes, you wanna go bury some Kilrathi?

              Hmmph. Like you have to ask.

              CONTROL: All craft return to ship immediately.

              I repeat-- all craft return to ship.

              DEVERAUX: All right, ladies. You heard the man.


              MARSHALL: What about my needs?

              DEVERAUX: Maniac, Forbes, return to the ship. You copy me?

              They're trying to ram.

              They obviously don't want to play nice.

              Now, does that take balls, or what?

              MARSHALL: Yeah. It's not bad. It's not bad for a woman...

              but watch how a man handles this.

              FORBES: What are you doing, Maniac?

              MARSHALL: I'm gonna finish this argument once and for all...

              'cause this...

              This takes balls.

              FORBES: Maniac.

              Open fire. Shoot him.

              You better open fire, or I will.

              MARSHALL: It's all in the timing. It's my shot.

              Come on. My shot.

              No! Shit! Pull up, Rosie!

              Rosie, pull up! Pull up!

              Rosie, can you hold her?

              I could fly this thing and cook you breakfast.

              Quit showing off.

              All right. You eject...

              and I'm gonna tractor you home.

              Oh, you'd love that one, wouldn't you?

              The ejection system is fried.

              That ain't no thing. We'll just do it together, OK?

              Just follow me in, all right?

              Con, Con. This is Baker Three and Baker Four.

              We're coming in, and we're coming in hot.

              Get everything off that deck that ain't bolted down. Over.

              CONTROL: Roger that.

              Baker Three and Baker Four, you are cleared to land.


              We're coming in too fast, Rosie.

              That's it. Just line it up.

              Almost there. Easy.

              Just ease it in, girl.

              I love it when you talk dirty.

              MARSHALL: Get that nose up, marine!

              Pull up, Rosie!



              No. Rosie?

              Hey! Get me a medic.

              Get me a medic!

              Hey! Someone get me a rescue crew!

              Get me a rescue crew!

              Get me a rescue crew!

              Get me a medic!

              Get a rescue crew!


              BLAIR: She's outside the airlock!

              You go through that field, you're history.

              MARSHALL: Give me a suit!

              Somebody give me a suit!


              Rosie. Rosie, can you hear me?

              TAGGART: Baker One, we need to get out of here.


              HUNTER: We're running on fumes here, boss.

              Baker Leader to Con.

              Push that wreckage off the deck.

              What is that?

              MARSHALL: What is that?

              No, no, no.

              No, no, no.

              OK, look.

              She's alive. I know. I can see her eyes.

              Stop it, please!

              [No audio]

              MARSHALL: I'm gonna go get her, all right?

              -I'm gonna go get her. -You are not going out there!

              MARSHALL: Get away from me, you son of a bitch Pilgrim!

              BLAIR: You are not going out there!

              HUNTER: Listen, ma'am--

              DEVEREAUX: Lieutenant Marshall!

              You disobeyed a direct order...

              which during wartime is considered treason...

              and punishable by death.

              Hunter, give me your gun.

              BLAIR: Whoa. Whoa. You can't bring her back.

              Give me your gun.

              BLAIR: You holster that gun!

              HUNTER: She's the C.O., Nugget.

              BLAIR: Do not do this.

              It was a stupid accident. He has to live with it.

              Shh. It's OK.

              If you endanger another pilot...

              you're dead.

              GERALD: There.

              Put her down there.

              HELMSMAN: Aye-aye, sir.

              [Electronic thrumming noises]

              Decoy away, commander.

              She's got a bigger electronic signature...

              than the Concordia.

              I think she'll fool them.

              GERALD: I hope you're right.

              Secure all active scanners. Passive systems only.


              [Systems power down]

              OBUTU: That's the Kilrathi battle group.

              FALK: They're following the decoy.

              They've missed us!


              -Come on! -Quiet. Shh!

              [Sonar ping]

              There's a destroyer hunting us.

              [Sonar pinging]

              [Sonar pings grow louder]

              They've spotted us.

              TAGGART: No, no, no.

              We're in a dense radiation belt.

              Gamma rays are clouding their screens.

              If they can't see or hear, they won't find us.


              They're nuking every crater.

              Methodical bastards.

              [Sonar pings quickening]


              [Metal creaking]

              MAN: The doors are failing.

                Grab anything that will seal it!

                Come on!

                [Vacuum suction]

                BLAIR: Whoa-ohh!

                You just gonna sit there and watch him die?

                Hold on, B!

                I'm coming!

                I'm going to get him. Take this end, tie it off.

                I'm going to get him.

                -Maniac! -Coming, B!

                MARSHALL: Tie it secure.

                Hold on. I'm comin'!

                BLAIR: Maniac!

                MARSHALL: Aah!


                Come on!

                Come on!

                Come on!

                Come on!

                COMPUTER: Pressure loss is stabilized. All cabins...

                MARSHALL: What are you gonna do when I'm not around, huh?

                -Medic! -Uhh...

                Save your strength.

                [Marshall groans]

                MARSHALL: She would've come back in if it wasn't for me.

                No, no. She knew what she was doing.

                No. No. I should've been watching her back.

                BLAIR: Medic!

                She was a fighter pilot in a war zone.

                She didn't need help from you or anybody.

                She never existed.

                You listen to me.

                Don't you ever play that stupid game with me.

                You hear me?

                BLAIR: Angel.

                What is it, Lieutenant?

                Could we stop this, please?

                I'm sorry about Forbes.

                I don't know who you're talking about.


                It's a shitty game, Angel.

                Rosie deserves more.

                What do you suggest I do about it?

                Look, he feels responsible.

                And so he should.

                His confidence is shot.

                He's questioning every move he made.

                He can't go back up there like this.

                And right now...

                I think we need all the pilots we can get.

                I'll think about it.

                He's a good guy, Angel.

                There's no reason to hate him.

                COMPUTER: Fuel cells nominal.

                Life-support system critical in five hours.

                [Sonar pinging]

                What is she, another destroyer?

                GERALD: It doesn't matter.

                We can't take another round of bombardment.

                I have four rapiers ready to go, sir.

                We'll go down fighting.

                TAGGART: We'll do better than that, Angel.

                Let's make a miracle.

                That ship up there is going to save our ass.

                DEVEREAUX: Lieutenant, time to suit up.

                MORRIS: Oh! Ma'am?

                DEVEREAUX: I need my best pilots out there.

                P.A.: I repeat--

                all pilots and flight crew to hangar deck immediately.

                Well, I don't know if I'm one of your best pilots, ma'am.

                Does everyone here think I go around making suggestions?


                Then I guess I gave an order.

                Be on the flight deck in five minutes.

                Do it for Rosie.

                TAGGART: Aren't you on the wrong ship, Commander?

                GERALD: I still have a responsibility...

                to this crew, Commodore.

                And excuse my bluntness...

                but if you think I'm going to let my men...

                be flown into combat by a rogue and a half-breed...

                you're sadly mistaken.

                He really is a good guy once you get to know him.

                DEVERAUX: That's no destroyer.

                That's the communication ship we came up against.

                TAGGART: And that's the ship we'll get our fuel from.

                They'll spot our heat corona soon.

                TAGGART: No.

                They won't have a chance.

                Hit it.

                Marines, to your stations.

                As soon as you get on board...

                head straight for the engine room.

                Tiger Claw needs those fuel cells.

                TAGGART: Blair...

                I'm picking up some sort of transmission aft of you.

                Check it out.

                TAGGART: Blair.

                Where the hell are you, Blair?

                BLAIR: What the hell?

                Pegasus Navcom.


                they have the Charybdis jump coordinates.

                DEVEREAUX: Is everything OK?

                We've secured the fuel cells.

                BLAIR: We've got more than that, Angel.

                We have the Kilrathi jump coordinates.

                DEVEREAUX: Marines, move out.

                GERALD: Mr. Obutu, prepare drone.

                Input the Kilrathi jump coordinates.

                Send it through the Charybdis quasar...

                to Admiral Tolwyn.

                They should be able to target the exact location...

                of the Kilrathi jump entry.

                It'll be over before they can get their weapons on-line.

                TAGGART: lf Tolwyn's there, Mr. Gerald.

                If he's there.

                OBUTU: Sir, we have a problem.

                I can't get the drones on-line.

                Without those coordinates, Tolwyn doesn't have a chance.

                And we are too big to slip past the Kilrathi...

                and warn the fleet.

                We'll have to send a fighter through.

                GERALD: impossible.

                There are over a thousand singularities in that quasar.

                To jump it would be suicide without Navcom coordinates.

                TAGGART: We don't need a Navcom.


                You will navigate the quasar.

                Angel will follow your lead.

                Sir, that's statistically impossible.

                We don't have another option.

                You have the gift.

                I don't think I can.

                I don't have the faith.

                It's not faith. It's genetics.

                But if you believe you need faith...

                take mine.

                Why didn't you tell me?

                You didn't ask.

                FALK: Sir...

                Long-range scanners picking up Kilrathi ships.

                Looks like a destroyer and a cruiser.

                TAGGART: We'll create the diversion.

                GERALD: Get those coordinates to Tolwyn.

                BLAIR: Uh, I got a strong signal at ten o'clock.

                It's gone, Angel. It vanished.

                DEVEREAUX: Got it-- a skipper missile...

                dead on course for the Tiger Claw.

                Only thing that can kill it...

                is a star fighter in visual contact.

                What are you doing, Angel?

                DEVEREAUX: Just stay on course. Get through the jump point.

                What about our orders?




                GERALD: Report!

                Sir, we have a bogey.

                Vector one-nine-seven mark three--

                It's gone.

                It's a skipper missile.

                We're only picking it up...

                when it de-cloaks to get a radar fix.

                TAGGART: Estimated time till impact?

                One minute, sir.

                FALK: Forty-five seconds till impact.

                Sir, our shields are too weak to take a direct hit.

                It's in those two kids' hands now.

                FALK: Twenty seconds.

                COMPUTER: Warning! Collision alert!

                DEVEREAUX: Oh, shit!


                No sign of the skipper missile, sir.

                One of the rapiers must have shot it down.

                Where are they now?

                Are you all right?

                Well, I might not be dancing for a while.

                All right, hang on.

                I'm gonna tractor you back to the ship.

                No, no, you're not. You're going on.

                We can't both disobey orders.

                You'll be out of air in an hour.

                You're going back to the ship.

                You disobey my order...

                and I'll have you court-martialed.

                Like I care.

                Then care about the billions who will die...

                if the fleet doesn't get the jump coordinates.

                You've got to go on.

                You know that.

                You're all right, Angel.

                You too, Chris.

                OBUTU: The Kilrathi ships are closing.

                So what now?

                Now we make them sorry they were ever born.

                Battle stations.

                Battle stations! Battle stations!

                Merlin, check my coordinates.


                MERLIN: Jump coordinates verified, Lieutenant.

                BLAIR: Firing jump drive.

                FALK: Kilrathi cruiser and destroyer are in missile range.

                TAGGART: Open fire, Mr. Gerald.

                GERALD: Aye, aye, sir.

                All batteries, fire as she bears.

                FALK: A Kilrathi cruiser is bearing right for us, sir.

                What tack, sir?

                Steady on.

                Let them be the first to blink.

                MERLIN: Jump trajectory is drifting.

                Please recompute coordinates.

                BLAIR: Coordinates eight-seven- five-nine-three mark...

                eight-five-four-nine-three, vector one-oh-five-niner.

                Prepare to lower our shield.

                OFFICER: She's changing course, sir.

                Portside missile battery prepare to fire.

                MAN: Fuel block locked and loaded.

                SECOND MAN: Ready to go, sir.

                Sir, the missile guidance system won't activate at this range.

                She won't need to. Lower our shields.

                Shields lowered.

                MAN: Brace for impact!

                Give them a broadside, Mr. Gerald!

                Open fire!

                MAN: Fire! Now!

                ALL: Yeaaahh!

                MERLIN: I cannot verify the new coordinates. Recompute.

                PNR in five seconds. Entry vector doesn't compute.

                BLAIR: I made it!

                She held together! I love this baby!

                This is Lieutenant Christopher Blair...

                to any Confed ship.

                A Kilrathi battle group has the Charybdis jump coordinates.

                They will breach at one-six-seven...

                mark eight-eight nine, Sol system.

                Repeat, one-six-seven mark eight-eight-nine, Sol system.

                Confed fleet, do you read?

                [Buzz buzz buzz]

                Merlin, check your scanners for any sign of the Confed fleet.

                [Beep beep]

                MERLIN: I'm picking up a Kilrathi signal behind us.

                Snakeir class capital ship.

                It followed us through the jump point.

                BLAIR: Shit! I'm too late.

                RICHARD: Com room reports a faint message...

                in clear from Lieutenant Blair.

                He's broadcasting the Kilrathi jump coordinates.

                TOLWYN: Blair.

                RICHARD: Should we respond, sir?

                RADAR MAN: Identifying Confed rapier...

                heading towards Earth at LSM point nine.

                He's being followed by something massive, Admiral.

                Looks like a Snakeir.

                RICHARD: Permission to intercept it?

                TOLWYN: No, we wait.

                The Snakeir will overtake Blair's fighter.

                Sir, if we don't intercept...

                the Snakeir will reach Earth orbit before us.

                The casualties could be significant.

                I'm bloody well aware of that, Richard!

                All ships are to target those jump coordinates.

                Blair to Confed fleet, a Kilrathi capital ship...

                has penetrated the quasar's jump point...

                and is in Earth space. Copy?

                They aren't in radio range.

                Earth will never see 'em coming.

                MERLIN: I'm detecting...

                a Confederation signal, Lieutenant.

                [Beep beep beep beep]

                Confederation transponder...

                identified as beacon one-four-seven.

                Oh, shit--Scylla.

                MERLIN: Mass of Snakeir--

                two hundred thousand, four hundred sixty-one tons

                OBUTU: Sir, we've hove to for damage inspection.

                TAGGART: And the locator beacon from the rapier pod?

                Nothing, sir. Lost contact during the battle.

                Have the Diligent prepared for launch.

                If I'm not back in two hours...

                make the jump to Earth. I'll join you later.

                Aye, aye, sir.

                I'm going to look for that pod.

                MERLIN: The Snakeir will have a firing solution on us...

                in five seconds.

                Kilrathi radar is locked on.

                Ten seconds to the point of no return...

                and we're almost out of fuel.

                BLAIR: Give me a count.

                MERLIN: Five...four...


                BLAIR: Holy shit!

                We made it!

                The Kilrathi's too big.

                Scylla's got her.

                MERLIN: You're out of fuel, Lieutenant.

                Switching off auxiliary systems.

                RICHARD: Admiral, the Kilrathi fleet...

                is coming through the jump point...

                one ship at a time.

                They've no chance to defend themselves...

                or warn the ships behind.

                And the Snakeir?

                She's disappeared from our scanners.

                Launch two rapier wings and a squadron of broadswords.

                Aye, aye, sir.

                PILOT: This is Concordia rescue and recovery.

                Stand by for tractor.

                Welcome to Sol sector, Lieutenant.

                Your parents would have been proud.

                Have they located Commander Deveraux?

                Paladin went to search for her.

                We haven't heard from him...

                since the Tiger Claw arrived in Earth space.

                RICHARD: Admiral, I have the Diligent reporting.

                Commodore Taggart requesting permission...

                to land on the Tiger Claw, sir.

                Is she with him?

                RICHARD: Lieutenant Commander Deveraux is on board.

                Taggart is requesting an emergency medical team...

                to meet him on the flight deck.

                I think you're on the wrong ship, Lieutenant.

                BLAIR: Baker Two, requesting permission to land.

                CONTROL: Welcome back, Lieutenant Blair.

                You're clear to land.

                MORRIS: Yeah!

                Baby, you made it!

                Not bad for the second best pilot in the academy.

                BLAIR: Where's Angel?

                She just came in.

                TAGGART: Get the medical team on the double!

                It's pure luck I found her.

                She turned off her beacon...

                not to tip off the Kilrathi.

                She's brave.

                I'll go and get the medic.

                Come on, girl. Angel, come on, wake up, girl.

                Wake up.

                Hey, don't you die on me.

                MARSHALL: Come on.


                MARSHALL: They're coming, they're coming.

                BLAIR: Hang on.

                What did you say?

                I said don't you die on me.


                Suggestion or an order?

                That's definitely an order.

                MEDIC: We should get her to sick bay.


Special help by SergeiK