“Saga of a Star World”
In this episode: Commander Adama (11), Captain Apollo (8), Lieutenant Starbuck (7), The Imperious Leader (5), Cylon Centurion (5), Baltar (4), Cassiopeia (3), President Adar (3)
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. That they may have been the architects of the Great Pyramids, or the lost civilizations of Lemuria, or Atlantis. Some believe that there may yet be brothers of man, who even now fight to survive somewhere beyond the heavens.
I see the party is not a huge success with all my children.
What awaits us out there is what troubles me.
But surely you don't cling to your suspicions about the Cylons. They asked for this armistice. They want peace.
Forgive me, Mr. President, but they hate us with every fiber of their existence. We love freedom. We love independence to feel, to question, to resist oppression. But...to them, it's an alien way of existing they will never accept.
But they have, through Baltar. They have sued for peace.
Yes. Of course, you're right.
[on seeing the Cylon Raiders gathering for the attack] Let's get out of here!
Why?
(lighting the boosters of his viper) I'll explain later!
Colonial Viper in quadrant. Intercepting.
(seeing four Cylon Raiders in pursuit and firing) I see what you mean!
Nice shooting, but...they hit my high engine!
That's okay, little brother; we got all of 'em. The day those guys can outfight us without a ten-to-one margin.
Apollo, better look at your scanner.
[A solid wall of Cylon raiders is chasing them.]
Ah, but a thousand to one, that's not fair.
What does it mean?
It means there's isn't going to be any peace. There might not be much of anything if we don't warn the Fleet!
Do it. I'm short an engine; you know I won't be able to keep up with you.
Zac, I'm not gonna leave you!
You have to! I'm putting my foot on that turbo. I'll make it back ahead of 'em, now go on! You've gotta warn the Fleet! I'll be all right.
[sighs] You can fly with me any time, little brother. Good luck!
Mr. President, a wall of unidentified craft is closing in on the Fleet.
Possibly a Cylon welcoming committee.
Sir, might I suggest we launch a welcoming committee of our own?
Mr. President, there remain many hostile feelings amongst our warriors. The likelihood of an unfortunate incident with all those pilots in the sky at once?
Commander?
Sir, did Baltar suggest that our forces sit here, totally defenseless?
My friend, we are on a peace mission. The first peace man has known in a thousand yahrens.
Captain, we have to know how many base ships we're dealing with.
No base ships.
You must be mistaken, Captain! Fighters couldn't function this far from Cylon without base ships; they don't carry enough fuel!
I said no base ships! Just fighters, maybe a thousand.
How do you count for that, Apollo?
I don't know. They...! We picked up an empty tanker on our scanner. It's my guess the Cylons used it to refuel for the attack after flying to that point from wherever their base ships are.
Well, why operate this far from Cylon without base ships when it isn't necessary? They would've been well out of our range at the old moon!
Unless it was necessary... for them to be somewhere else! Get me the President!!
Mr. President, I request permission to leave the Fleet. I have a reason to suspect our home planets may face imminent attack.
[Cylon raiders blast away the bridge of the Atlantia and portions of its bridge explode.]
Maintain contact!
[The communication image of President Adar distorts, then clears.]
How could I have been so completely wrong? I have led the entire human race to ruin...
Mr. President, it wasn't your fault. You didn't lead us to this disaster. We were led!
[last words] Baltar! I don't believe it...
[A Cylon raider blasts one of the Atlantias anti-assault batteries and the explosion surges into the bridge, knocking out communications.]
Mr. President!
By your command.
Speak, Centurion.
All base ships are now in range to attack the Colonies.
The final annihilation of the life form known as man. Let the attack begin.
What are you saying about my father?! Do you realize what we've just been through?!
Oh, yeah? You should have seen how we spent our day! We managed to single-handedly keep the Cylons off our backs while you took off on a little cruise!!
Starbuck, don't you realize what's happened?!
Oh, yeah! Sure, I realize what's happened! You should see this baby in the air when it takes off across the sky!! It's a beautiful sight! Beautiful! Unless it happens to be your base ship!
Starbuck, listen to me! The Colonies are gone! All of them!
What are you talking about, gone?!
I want to know where you were as well! All of you! We waited, we watched and prayed, and you never came!
Most of us are dead. The Fleet is all but destroyed.
But you're here.
From the Battlestar Galactica.
It survives?
Yes.
But what of the President and the Council of Twelve and...and all the other Colonies?
All destroyed.
Commander Adama.
Yes, Serina.
It's true, then. We are defeated. Doomed.
Can I ride in your ship, sir?
Fighter planes are no place for little boys.
They're going to have to be if our people are going to survive. We must fight back.
Yes, we are going to fight back. But not here, not now, not in the Colonies. Not even in this star system. Let the word go forth to every man, woman and child who survived this holocaust; tell them to set sail at once in every assorted vehicle that will carry them.
And the word went forth to every outpost of humanity, and they came – the Aries, the Gemons, the Virgos, the Scorpios, the Pisceans and the Sagitarrans. In all, two hundred and twenty ships, representing every colony, color and creed in the star system. The human race might have one more chance, but first it would have to survive the alliance, the elements and the unknown dark and sinister threats that would lie ahead.
Their destruction is complete.
Our forces have taken prisoners near the spacedrome. They tell of survivors who escaped in ships.
What ships? How far can they go? If a handful of survivors did indeed escape, they would have neither fuel nor food for a prolonged voyage.
The information is not complete. It is offered in exchange for life.
And what is the standing order for humans from your Imperious Leader?
Extermination.
Then carry out your orders. If they exist, they're doomed.
We gather here as representatives of each ship in our fleet to answer that single question: Where will we go? Our recorded history tells us that we descended from a mother civilization, a race that went out into space to establish colonies. Those of us assembled here now represent the only known surviving colonies, save one. A sister world, far out in the universe, remembered to us only through ancient writings. It is my intention to seek out that remaining colony, that last outpost of humanity in the whole universe.
Commander Adama? This thirteenth colony, this other world. Where is it and what's it called?
I wish I could tell you that I know precisely where it is, but I can't. However, I do know that it lies beyond our star system, in a galaxy very much like our own. On a planet called... Earth.
Why don't you just give me your name, okay? It's all right.
My name is Cassiopeia.
Cassiopeia. It's beautiful. It means fairy queen, doesn't it?
I think so.
Designation?
I'm designated a socialator. It's an honorable profession; it's had the blessings of the elders for four thousand yahrens.
I didn't say anything. I'm just curious about what all that excitement was about back on the barge.
That woman is a member of the Otori sect amongst the Gemonese. They don't believe in physical contact between genders, except when sanctified by the priest during High Worship of the Sun Storm, which comes once only every seven yahrens.
[Starbuck is remembering a card game he was playing before the Galactica ordered battle-stations drill, which had suddenly turned into the real thing.]
No wonder those little buggers are such good card players.
Flight Leader Serpentine, by your command.
Report, Centurion, on the final assault.
On each of the twelve planets, a similar story is told of a handful of ships that escaped destruction to rendezvous with a warship.
What kind of warship?
The Battlestar Galactica.
Then go and seek out Baltar. Tell him I'm displeased. Tell him I've offered a choice: Deliver the Battlestar Galactica or deliver his head.
These quotes come from Wikiquote's Battlestar Galactica (1978) pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.
