Original subtitles

We're leaving our star system.

They removed the laser generator.

Makes sense. Get rid of the laser generators and...

you're unarmed!

You haven't helped the Colonies, you've just kept the enforcers in power!

We must assume a Cylon has captured or killed Lieutenant Starbuck.

Cylons! I told you, he's a Conn spy!

If I am, I'm in big trouble.

There are those who believe

that life here

began out there,

far across the universe,

with tribes of humans

who may have been the forefathers of the Egyptians

or the Toltecs or the Mayans.

Some believe that there may yet be brothers of man

who even now fight to survive

somewhere beyond the heavens.

We are nearly through the asteroid dust, Commander.

I'm as nervous as a... young cadet on his first orbit.

I'm not nervous. I don't even know what to be nervous about.

We're leaving our star system.

When we get through this asteroid dust, there'll be a new galaxy.

One no human in this fleet has seen before.

- Commander. - Yes.

Hush up. It's just a bunch of old stars.

Perhaps Boxey should take the helm. He has a singular perspective.

- Can I? - No, you cannot.

You are centons into your sleep period.

- Oh. Commander? - Keep me out of this, young man.

I may be the commander but he's your father.

Thank you.

Next time I'll act excited and maybe we could stay up.

Come on, Muff it.

- Was I ever like that? - Worse.

Initial readings are negative on any signs of life in the first quadrant, sir.

When the fleet has cleared the asteroid dust, concentrate sensors forward

- to increase our range. - Yes, sir.

- Who's our volunteer? - Starbuck.

- Starbuck? - Starbuck? Volunteer?

I don't think it was his sense of duty.

Father's idea to reopen the dining lounge on the Rising Star was brilliant.

Only the waiting list is a yahren long.

The first pilot to fly the new recon viper goes to the head of the list.

Let's not deprecate Starbuck. It could be a dangerous mission.

- No, sir. - What's Starbuck's status?

He's due on the Rising Star at any moment.

I hope we don't have to move him to red before he eats.

Starbuck did ask me to dinner tonight but...

Well, I do have this duty.

I guess he'll have to eat alone.

Well, er... perhaps this once we can make an exception, hm?

You go ahead and join him. I'll handle this with Colonel Tigh.

I've sailed the Rising Star hundreds of times.

This reminds me of the old days - before the war.

Anyhow, look, it may be a while

before I get another chance to come here for dinner.

Big mission coming up.

Do you have a private dining room?

Lieutenant, private rooms are reserved 60 and 70 centares in advance.

Well, one can always make arrangements for a warrior on his last night.

I don't like the way he said that.

- What's this about a mission? - It's just a routine recon flight

but don't tell him that.

Will this do, Lieutenant?

Perfect. And a bottle of your finest Ambrosa.

Ambrosa's as rare as tylinium.

I'll see what I can do, sir.

Starbuck...

This is all so beautiful.

Most men don't treat a med technician like this.

I think of you only as a woman. A very rare and beautiful woman.

I'll try to live up to that image.

Be back in a centon.

Commander, the long-range scanner indicates possible life forms.

Quadrant Alpha 6.

- Request probe concentration. - Concentration's approved.

- Cylons? - Impossible to tell.

- Prepare Recon Viper 1 . - Yes, sir.

Probe indicates definite life signs.

Er... Athena!

I managed to get off work after all.

I just didn't want you to be alone on your last night before...

- You are alone, aren't you? - Oh, er... well, not any longer.

Sir?

Yes?

Ah. Listen, there...

You don't have a room with a better view?

There's a sanitation ship off our beam. Not exactly appetizing scenery.

- A sanitation ship? Where? - It must have drifted back.

I think there's a first orbit cadet at the controls.

Get me another room.

Yes, sir, I quite understand.

Good.

- Follow me. - Er... Athena?

Asteroid concentration, binary star system. Alpha 6, mark 775.

That's within a hectare of our course.

Yes. I hope Lieutenant Starbuck has had time to finish his dinner.

Starbuck, these mushies are just heavenly.

Oh, er.. No, thanks.

Too bad we can't have any fresh protein with them.

I'll see what I can do.

- Wait. Just buzz the waiter. - Oh, no. It's too slow.

I'll be back in a flash.

What happened?

They're all out of mushies. I'm sorry.

I don't mind. The protein's just fine.

This stuff's only a yahren old.

Well, I think it has the right effect.

So I see.

Lieutenant Starbuck, report to Battlestar Galactica, flight deck blue.

Lieutenant Starbuck, report to Battlestar Galactica, flight deck blue, priority red.

- Oh, Starbuck. - Duty calls, love.

Here.

Oh!

- Duty calls, love. - I'm going with you.

No. No you're not.

This dinner is costing every cubit I've got. One of us is going to enjoy it.

Don't move. I want to remember you just as you are.

Beautiful against the stars.

Sir.

Well... no need for cubits where I'm going.

Thank you, sir. And may I say I admire the lieutenant's daring.

Well, it's just another mission.

No, sir. I'm referring to the two young ladies.

Very pre-war.

Why! Why, that...!

Oh, well, my, my, my.

Don't we look just precious?

Commander's orders. In case I have to land.

Don't want everyone to know I'm a Colonial warrior.

Starbuck, you never look like a warrior.

Enjoy your dinner?

Well, let's just say I'm looking forward to a few centons in space - alone.

Just me, a fast ship and a fair galaxy.

A fast ship you have. They've doubled range and speed

and installed a voice-activated computer that can out fly the Cylons.

Hot pilot doesn't need all that electronic felgercarb.

Switch on your short-range marker beacon so we can track you.

No other transmissions unless essential, then only in scrambled code.

We don't want the Cylons tracing you back to us.

And, er, Starbuck... if the Cylons should spot you...

I know. I know, it's a one-way voyage.

Can't have them tracking me back to the fleet.

- Twice as fast? - You'll love her.

They put a second pulse generator on all engines.

- It doesn't look bigger. - She's not.

You can't add weight without getting rid of something.

- They removed the laser generators. - Oh.

Transferring launch control to Recon Viper 1. Launch when ready.

Makes sense. Get rid of the laser generators and...

you're unarmed!

Wish we were with him.

Yeah, so do I.

Short-range beacon on and functioning.

Recon Viper 1 indicating light speed and accelerating.

OK, baby, let's see what you can do.

Whoo!

Fantastic.

Incredible.

I'd like to see a computer do that.

You asked for it.

Whoa!

- Computer, back to normal track. - Your wish is my command, honey.

- The name's Starbuck. - Don't be a bore. My name's CORA.

Short for Computer Oral Response Activated.

I'm programmed to respond instantly to all your needs.

I'm also to keep you amused over the duration of our prolonged voyage.

We're on a Delta vector for quadrant Alpha 6.

I've activated my sensors and am probing the asteroid area

where life forms were reported by Galactica's rather limited scanner.

- Do I detect jealousy? - Quiet please, I'm scanning.

Excuse me.

I have two unidentified sub-light vehicles bearing Omega 1 , Alpha 6.

Shall we investigate?

What do we do if they're Cylons, wave?

We have enough speed to outrun anything in the universe. Hang on.

Slowing to sub-light speed. Let's not barge in until we know what they are.

- Who they are. - Excuse me.

I'm putting them on the screen. Visual contact in .15 centons.

- They're ancient. - Sixth millennium fighter craft.

They're probably not Conn. Feel better, honey?

No, I don't like to see any unarmed craft being chased by a fighter.

Not this time, Robber.

May I suggest a high-speed flyby

kicking in our second booster within 50 metrons?

Our backwash should knock him silly

and scare the pogees out of him.

- Release controls. - Released.

Croad here. Lost contact. Returning to Proteus.

You were 52 metrons away when you used your booster.

- It worked, didn't it? - Rather sloppily.

- Listen... - Fighter is disengaging

and turning for asteroid .71 hectares distant.

Shuttlecraft has been damaged and is landing on asteroid ahead.

- What shall we do? - Follow the shuttle.

May I land us, or do I have to go through a bouncer?

Just give me the vector.

Vector's displayed. Please, try not to jar my chips.

Switching all systems except marker beacon to standby mode.

Yo!

You all right?

Drop it.

I'm sorry. I thought you were the pirate that was chasing me.

They're probably from the Frodo system. Nasty bunch.

I don't know why I crossed this asteroid belt.

- I said drop it. - I don't blame you for being cautious.

I'm a shuttle driver with agro parts for the farmers on Crodan.

Crodan? What's that? What settlement?

It's a small, primitive settlement

that's never seen a beauty like the one you're flying.

- You're not from this system? - I'll ask the questions.

I know. I just like to know where I stand.

Are you a pirate? You want to check my cargo? Go on.

- It's not worth much. - Think I will.

Uh-uh-uh!

Agro parts for some farmer on Crodan?

Aye, and that, too.

This is Ambrosa.

It must be more than 50 yahren old.

500 to be exact.

Five...? That's impossible.

There hasn't been any of this around the star system since the war.

- What star system? - Where'd you get this? It can't be real.

Are you a bootlegger?

Try it.

I Will.

Mmm. By all that's holy.

I got a lot more. If you'd keep your mouth shut,

I'd be glad to share my find with you.

This is worth a fortune. How much is there?

A lot more than you or I could haul out of here.

But your ship doesn't look like it was made for cargo. It looks like...

Now, wait a minute.

You're not the pirate? You're not going to kill me?

Well, I didn't mean to frighten you. I'm a little leery of pirates myself.

I don't blame you.

- How many of those guys are there? - This is a pretty rough sector.

Dozens of asteroids where they can hide and attack an unsuspecting ship.

You wouldn't be an advance scout for some sort of convoy, would you?

No, no, no.

This'd be a very bad place to bring an unarmed ship.

That it would.

Tell me, what kind of range do you figure those pirates have?

I don't really know...

I'm sorry, lad,

but that beauty you're flying is the answer to all my dreams.

Commander, short-range beacon indicates Recon Viper 1 climbing back into orbit.

Maintain tracking. He may be onto something.

Finally decided to turn me back on?

- Shall I scan for that fighter? - Negative.

Identify.

- Are you capable of flying this ship? - Affirmative.

- Identify. - All right, then, control is yours.

Assume course to asteroid mass 1.0775, bearing Delta 7.

Computed. Where's Starbuck?

Prepare to transmit intergalactic transmitter reach.

Displayed. What happened to Starbuck?

Stand by to transmit.

Commander!

Long-range transmissions being sent by Recon Viper 1.

- Are you sure it's long-range? - Narrow beam.

- It's a code but not scrambled. - What's that fool doing?

- An inoperative short-post transmitter? - It's possible, Father.

But why an unknown code and unscrambled?

I suggest we check the Cylon codes, sir.

Do it.

We are picking up a transmission in a strange code.

- Launch fighters to investigate. - By your command.

No response to known Cylon code patterns.

Commander, we must assume

a Conn has captured or killed Lieutenant Starbuck

and now has command of Recon Viper 1.

That transmission is being beamed at our old home galaxy.

If it's not a message to the Cylons,

it's a beacon directing them here.

That transmission must be stopped.

Alert my son.

We are to destroy Recon Viper 1.

Can't we try to make communication first?

If the recon viper starts the pulse generators, we'll be eating ion vapours.

- Captain, Starbuck... - Probably dead, Boomer.

Transferring launch control to viper fighters. Launch when ready.

Oh, no.

It's like trying to fly a museum.

CORA, where are you when I need you?

Come on, baby, ignite.

Orbit.

Goodbye, Robber.

I'm not Robber. You're making a mistake.

I'm not Robber.

All right. Now, you follow me

and don't even think about running.

Name's Starbuck, privateer, Cyranus Galaxy.

A little misunderstanding.

Easy, easy, easy. I just want to offer you guys a little drink.

Look,

you've got me mixed up with another guy.

He took my ship and left me with his worthless load of agro parts.

Maybe we can make a deal.

Long-range transmissions have stopped. Still picking up the short-range beacon.

It's coinciding with that asteroid, bearing Omega 7-5 relative.

Let's hope he stays there till we get there.

And then?

We carry out our mission.

Twice in one day. It just isn't fair.

What's happening? What is this place?

Well, now.

What have we here?

What's your name, lad?

- Starbuck. - Starbuck?

Starbuck, you say, huh?

Hm, that's strange. Never heard of that one before.

To our new mate, Starbuck.

Starbuck! Starbuck!

Ambrosa. And over 100 yahrens old.

Yes, yes, but they don't give us the good stuff.

- Where am I? - Proteus Prison.

Oh, I'm Assault 9. That's Forger 7 round the corner there.

Embezzler 10 down the block there

and Adulteress 58, I see you've already met.

- Hand it over. - And our, our children, of course.

What kind of offence is starbucking? Sounds interesting.

- It's not an offence. It's a name. - They're one and the same, boy.

I wonder if our original sinners were as ignorant as this one.

- Original sinners? - Yes, our ancestors.

The ones that were first sentenced here.

You're here for crimes committed by your ancestors?

At least we're not an original sinner like you.

Come on, now. What is starbucking? You can tell us.

It's a name. I'm just a privateer from another galaxy.

Tell me, lad, any news about the war?

- The war? - Yes.

Between the Colonies and the Alliance.

You know, we supply Ambrosa for the Colonial warriors.

- You what? - We may be prisoners

but we're as patriotic as any Colonist.

We used to supply munitions and Ambrosa for the war effort.

When the munitions ran out, we kept on making the only thing we could -

Ambrosa.

And we've been making it for 700 yahrens.

- Death to the Cylons! - Death to the Cylons!

Death to the Cylons!

You sent for me?

Yes.

Station 8, please cover long scan.

Alpha mode for a centon. Thank you.

Come here.

Starbuck is on a long-range patrol.

We are receiving intermittent transmissions

in a code we can't decipher from his recon viper.

Therefore, we can only assume that he is no longer in command.

He may be lost...

or dead.

In any case,

we sent out a patrol to destroy his ship.

And even if he's still alive, without a ship... he can't get back.

I just thought you should know.

- Taking back the scanner. - Athena, thank you.

Father, long-range transmissions from Recon Viper 1 resuming.

Same frequency and direction.

- Apollo's patrol status? - They'll reach their site soon.

We've tried every known military code. We can't break it.

- That's an Aerian merchant code. - What?

My father was a merchant. I used to transmit for him.

That looks like an Aerian merchant code.

A merchant code.

From the strength of that signal, we're close.

Activating attack computer.

Activating attack computer.

It's a request for the coordinates to Aeries!

Countermand the destruct orders.

Blue Squadron patrol, disengage your attack.

- The Galactica's countermanding. - Pulling up.

Boomer, he's landing. Let's investigate.

It must be a human who doesn't know that Aeries is in Conn hands.

- Have Apollo investigate with caution. - Yes, sir.

Tell him to stop that transmission.

Thank you for your help.

Well, you just saved some Aeries' life and maybe Starbuck's.

Let's hope so.

Of course, it won't change anything when he gets back.

I wouldn't want it any other way.

Looks deserted.

Only one way to find out.

He's been stripping the ship, making room for cargo.

- We're not going to find anything here. - Uh-uh, my turn.

You've been around Starbuck too long. Forgot how to take orders.

Thanks.

- That sure isn't Starbuck. - Don't bet on it. Ready?

Go!

- There he goes. - Don't shoot, he's human.

No!

Apollo! There's a woman and child here!

Don't hurt them.

Do what you want with me but don't hurt my wife and child.

I'm begging you.

My father taught me the merchant code like his father taught him.

Our original sinner was an Aerian robber.

These enforcers, their ancestors were the original guards?

In a strange way, those swine are as trapped as we are.

Why didn't you make for Aeries when you escaped from prison?

- I didn't have a capable ship. - Till you stole Starbuck's viper.

He did it for Tania, so he did.

We couldn't stand seeing her raised in that prison.

I think I would have done the same.

Scanners indicate three Cylon fighters emerging from the asteroid dust cloud.

Omega, transfer long-range scanners to my console, please.

- Transferring. - They're not following us.

They're heading for the asteroid where Recon Viper 1 landed.

And Apollo's patrol.

They must be scanning a narrow beam or they'd have picked us up.

Colonel...

bring the fleet to flank speed... and set a new course.

Put as much space as possible between ourselves and those fighters.

Commander, Apollo's patrol won't know where to find us.

Set the course, please.

Yes, sir.

Well.

Well, now, we have visitors.

What are you doing up at this time of night?

I don't sleep too good when my father isn't on board.

When is he coming back?

Well... you know your father's away on a very, very important mission.

It may be a little while yet.

But I miss him and so does Muff it. Don't you, Muff it?

Yes, I'm sure you do miss him.

Do you miss him?

Yes, very much.

You know, when your father was as old as you are now...

sometimes, when he couldn't sleep,

he'd come into my room and climb into bed with me,

and I'd tell him stories.

- Would you like me to tell you a story? - Yeah.

- Tell me a story about Earth. - Oh, about Earth. All right.

Now, Earth...

is a beautiful, blue-white planet...

Take your bottle, Bootlegger.

The name's Starbuck.

From now on your name is Bootlegger 137.

Put that on.

You'd better learn not to argue with an enforcer.

Now, take that bottle!

- Go back. Go back. - Close it!

Close that door. That's an order!

Close it!

- You want to enforce it? - Close it, man!

Go back, man! Go back, man! Go back!

Close the door!

Are all the doors unlocked?

They haven't worked in generations.

- Then come out. - No, no, we can't!

- No, no, no. - We're prisoners.

Our fathers were prisoners. Our mothers were prisoners.

It is the way of the universe.

Felgercarb! You have rights, freedom. You're human beings!

If you want to live in an Ambrosa stupor, fine, but what about your children?

Oh, they will contribute as we have -

making Ambrosa for the Colonial warriors.

All the Ambrosa ever made here is ageing on the loading docks!

The Colonies long ago forgot these penal asteroids even exist.

They thought they were lost early in the war!

He lies.

Tell us the last time a Colonial freighter docked here.

Silence him.

You haven't helped the Colonies, you've just kept the enforcers in power!

- You daggits. - Back in your cell, Assault 9!

- Is what he says true? - He's a dirty, lying bootlegger!

- I am a Colonial warrior. - Warrior?

Show us the loading docks, Croad.

Go back in your cells! All of you!

Man, liberation is great, huh?

Oh, by God, lad, I never thought in my lifetime

I'd smell the sweet smell of air!

That's freedom.

How... how much Ambrosa do you figure is out here?

The lab our of a thousand lifetimes.

Cylons! I told you, he's a Conn spy!

If I am, I'm in big trouble. Those are Colonial vipers.

- Apollo! - Starbuck!

Apollo, this asteroid is piled high with Ambrosa!

Thousands, millions of crates of it. Some of it ageing a millennium.

I give up. I just give up.

No, you don't understand.

- We're rich. - I'll put that on your death stone.

- My death stone? - We can't raise the Galactica.

She must have altered course.

Son, we thought we'd never...

You! I want to talk to you!

- You... - That can wait.

Our sensors picked up Cylon fighters.

Death to the Cylons!

Robber, get those people to cover.

Back in the block. Let's move! Back in the block, come on.

- You'll have to fly the recon viper. - She doesn't have lasers.

But she's fast.

Starbuck, get the Cylons' attention. We'll surprise them.

- Wake up, CORA. - Starbuck!

Save the welcome for later. We got three Cylons on our tail.

Computing. Estimate they will fire in .85 microns.

Engage booster one micron before.

Anything you say, honey.

Hang on.

He's got them occupied. Let's go.

Here they come again.

- They're splitting up. - I'll take the left.

- Here they come. - Execute a maximum G climb.

- You'll black out. You're only human. - You're not.

- I'm beginning to regret that. - So am I.

Ready... Now!

Starbuck? Starbuck?

Starbuck? Starbuck?

- Honey? - CORA.

We did it.

- We did it! - Of course we did it.

The Cylon couldn't match my pull-up.

It crashed into the structures 2.7 metrons east of the castle.

I'm scanning a regular inferno down there.

These structures contained highly volatile fluids.

Oh, frack!

There goes my fortune.

Commander, long-range scan indicates ships approaching.

It's quadrant Omega Alpha 6.

Lead ship identification coming through.

- It's Recon Viper 1. - Are you certain?

Positive. We're receiving the marker beacon.

He's leading two vipers and a shuttle craft.

It's Starbuck and Apollo's patrol.

Well, Colonel, inform Boxey his father's coming home.

With pleasure, sir.

We have our warriors back and we welcome a good many voyagers

who are complaining rather vociferously about the quality of our Ambrosa.

And Boxey has something for his father.

He worked very hard on that.

What a beautiful map.

- Look at this. - Yes, he really did a good job here.

Will you be an astro-navigator?

No, a viper pilot like my father.

That's really very good.

But this blue planet is out of orbit. It belongs here.

How do you know that?

I don't know. I guess I saw it somewhere or...

No, I got it.

That cell I was in was covered with pictures and charts.

This system was one of them.

The Silent One.

It's a prisoner my father told me about. Enforcers found him drifting in space.

He never said a word, just spent his time drawing those pictures.

Why? Is it important?

Well, the solar system that I taught Boxey to draw...

was something that I'd remembered from our ancient legends.

It was the solar system that contained the planet Earth.

Fleeing from the Conn tyranny,

the last Battlestar, Galactica, leads a ragtag fugitive fleet

on a lonely quest -

a shining planet

known as Earth.