[A very drunk Garibaldi stumbles into his quarters.]
Michael Garibaldi
Sh...Show me the way to go home, I'm tired and I want to go to bed. I had a little...oh, that's a big drink...about an hour ago and it went right to my head. [pauses] What did I do...with that link? You here, Linky, Linky, Linky? Here, Linky? [finds his link] Oh, the missing link!
Barring an act of God -- and since I don't believe in God, that kind of narrows the odds a bit -- by this time tomorrow, we're gonna be at war with the Centauri.
The last time I gave an interview, they told me to just relax and say what I really felt. Ten minutes after the broadcast I got transferred to an outpost so far off the star maps you couldn't find it with a hunting dog and a Ouija board.
Michael Garibaldi
[smiling] Don't sweat it. Just be that charming, effervescent Commander we've all come to know and love. What's the worst that could happen? They fire you, ship you off to the Rim, and I get promoted to Commander. I don't see a problem here.
This is Ben-Zed, god of food! And...Li, goddess of passion! And Mo-goth, god of the underworld, and protector of front doors. Gods by the bushel! Gods by the pound! Gods for all occasions!!
You could serve us in various ways. Analyst, security, cryptographer. If you grow homesick we could arrange for your return to human space with proper genetic alterations. That, too, might serve our needs.
Stop seeing things in such absolute terms. The universe is run by the complex interweaving of three elements: energy, matter, and enlightened self-interest. Unless you comprehend that fact and soon, you will be cornered and caged.