"Dear dad," "{*in your last letter }you questioned whether it's my responsibility to join this fight." "The truth is we all became responsible the day we created the cylons." "We're the one who let these robots become our servants, our trusted helpers, and even our friends." "We let them into our lives only to see them repay our trust with a violent revolt against us." "I know there is a lot of debate about why they hate us." "But in the end," "Does it really matter?" "Kill the enemy or be killed." "That's the reality." "In a war where mankind very survival hangs in the balance, it's up to each of us to make a difference." "Being a pilot is the best way I know how to do that." "Your loving son," "William Adama." "Hold still, you Toaster bastard." "Watch out, Hot shot." "You've got a bandit on your six." "That's fine, just add to the challenge." "Come on, Kid." "Break off!" "Break off!" "No way, I got this." "Come on, come on, come on." "Frak, I can't..." "I can't see!" "You've got no visibility, Kid." "Get out of there." "Watch you back, Kid." "It's coming around again." "There we go." "Much better." "What are you crazy?" "Return to base!" "You can't take that kind of radiation exposure" "You'd die in less than 30 sec." "20 sec and counting!" "You're approaching radiation exposure max." "Frak, my gun is jammed!" " You only have 12 sec left!" " Frak that!" "Okay." "Game over." "Are you crazy, you can't fire..." "Deal with it, suckers!" " Come on, tell me that ain't no record." " Congratulation captain," "You have completed level six." "Good sim score?" "Oh, no." "Not a good sim score." "The top sim score." " I'm impressed." " Thanks." "I'd be if I were you." "Lookout Jay, we've got a live one." "Let me guess." "{*You are fresh out of the academy and}You've been itching to fly a Viper since you were in short pants" "{*But }You{*r only} worry {*now is }that the war will be over before you {*get a chance to}can prove what {*a bona fide }ace you are." "Congratulations, you got me pegged." "Except for the worrying part." "I don't do that." "Look at the pair on you." "Was that a request?" "No don't get your hopes up, rook." "You're not my type." "Good so it's a date." "Town boy!" " You are a real charger, ain't you?" " Thank you." "If you're looking for some action, there's a girl who's gonna give it to you." "Gods damn..." " Yo rook, you're blocking traffic." " I'm sorry." "That's Deke Tornvald." "The "Minute Man."" " You heard of him, huh?" " Heard of him?" "He was {*like }my hero at the Academy." "{*What's }He got{* now, like} 30 kills?" "You'd better hurry or there won't be any left for you, ace." "Look out!" "Back just in time." "Suit up!" "Briefing in 30." "Another snowball patrol?" "What's this, fresh meat?" "Ensign William Adama, reporting for flight duty, sir." "If there's a mission, I'd like to be part of it." "Papers." "At ease." "You're F.O.B., Ensign." "Sure you don't want to find your rack first?" "Respectfully, sir, I signed on to kill Toasters, not take naps." "Just point me at my plane and I'll get started." "All right, Ensign, I'm assigning you to the Weasel." "She's over there." " She's beautiful, sir." " Not the Viper." "The bird behind her." "That old flying pillbox, sir?" "It's a Raptor." "That's a designation you're qualified." "Sir, there has to be some kind of mistake." "Respectfully, sir, I didn't rate top of my class so I could drive a bus." " I'm a Viper pilot." " Congratulations!" "I'll break it down for you like this." "{*The brass makes it seems like Operation Clean Sweep really lived up to its name,}They're acting like Operation Clean Sweep was a success, but somebody forgot to give the Toasters that memo." "They're taking down our planes right and left." "Right now, I need Raptor drivers more than I need Viper jocks." "So make sure your "bus" is ready for action." " Is that clear?" " Yes, sir." "Good." "Dismissed." "I'm so sorry." "I'm sorry." "I just finished mucking this all thing out." "Sorry, I didn't see what was going on." "Of course you didn't, because you weren't looking!" "What are you doing in here?" "Are you with that goddamn press tour?" "No..." "I'm William Adama." "I was just assigned to fly this bird." " So I came to get acquainted." " You?" " You're my new driver?" " Yeah?" "They send me a rook fresh of the boat?" " Guess you must be my new Copilot." " Not if I can do anything about it." "I want new gyros on there this time." " Or I'll be pissed off!" " I'm working on it, Lt." "Let me help you with all this." "Just leave it!" "I said leave it alone." "Fasio..." "Fasiovik." "Frak. {*If you gotta call me something, just }Call me Coker." "Just don't get too familiar with it." "Okay." "So..." "Coker, who was your last pilot?" "I'm just mopping of what's left of him." "Frakking knuckle draggers." "Poor bastard." "Who the frak signs up for a third tour?" "Look, I'm sorry about your friend." "He wasn't my frakking friend!" "He was an ass." "And he was worth ten huskers like you!" "Lieutenant Fasjovik and Captain Adama, please report to the CO." "Briefing call." "Here we go again." "Just listen real good and try not to get us killed, okay, rook?" "And you better clean up!" "And stick with your barn yard tractor pulls." "I'm from Caprica city." "Yeah tell that to someone who cares, husker." "You're gonna offer the commander a drink?" "What?" "Flask." "Frak." "Let's go!" " Sir." " Mister Fasjovik." "Forty-seven days left in your mandatory second tour." "Planning on re-upping?" "Not if I get a say in it, sir." "Hard to part with an experienced officer, but that's your call." " Clean up that image." " Yes, sir." "Ensign William Adama." "Caprican with some interesting Tauron family connections." "The Ha'la'tha?" "Can't see that my family has anything to do with this mission, sir." "Relax, son." "I'd never judge a man on his father's sins or merits." "Your grades at the Academy weren't exactly stellar but your flight instructor says you're a "natural." I quote:" ""One of the best pilot candidates I've ever seen."" "And unfortunately he knows it." "You're a cocky son of a bitch, aren't you, Ensign?" "Yes, you are." "So is this an accurate assessment, son?" "Are you a natural?" "I can fly a plane, sir." "A "natural," I can't say." "Is that mine, Mister Singh?" "Thank you." "We're ten years into a bad war, son, so now this is how I handle cocky sons of bitches on my ship." "I assign 'em to milk runs until they cool down." "Your orders." " Something funny, Mister Fasjovik?" " Not at all, sir." "You boys are gonna take some cargo to the Scorpion shipyards and return with spare parts." "It's a four-day round trip." "I'd assign a jump-capable ship if I could afford one, but I can't, so your sorry-ass Raptor will have to do." "Above all, you're to avoid any enemy contact." "That includes Cylon ships, SAMS, slingshots, or anything else they might happen to have floating around out there." " Understood?" " Yes, sir." "Gentlemen, do not frak this up."