Après l'attaque des Cylons, la flotte est obligée de jouer à un jeu mortel avec ses poursuivants. Toutes les 33 minutes, la flotte effectue un saut, mais à chaque fois les Cylons les retrouvent et tentent une attaque. Les équipages sont épuisés et les civils doutent de la capacité du Commandant Adama et de la Présidente Roslin à pouvoir gérer la situation. Quand un vaisseau de transport de civil, l'Olympic Carrier, manque un saut puis réapparaît un peu plus tard, le Commandant Adama craint qu’il n’ait été infiltré par les Cylons. La situation est grave : il faut détruire l’Olympic Carrier et les 1300 passagers qu’il transporte peut-être encore ou risquer la flotte entière. Pendant ce temps, sur Caprica, Helo continue de fuir les patrouilles Cylons mais ne semble pas pouvoir trouver de l’aide.(Close-up on Baltar's eyes as he dreams. A clock is ticking loudly. In Baltar's dream, he's in his house in Caprica. Outside Galactica, the Vipers are being launched. Apollo is in one of them.)
Apollo: And one minute to mark.
(He and Starbuck are both squinching up their faces as though they're trying to stay awake.)
(We get another flash of Dream!Baltar staring out his window.)
(CIC - A clock is counting down from 43 seconds. Adama is watching it. Tigh hits a sleeping soldier on the shoulder to wake him up. Dualla yawns.
(Back inside Baltar's dream)
Six: God has a plan for you, Gaius. He has a plan for everything and everyone. Gaius, are you even listening to me?
(Colonial One)
Pilot: Attention passengers, thirty seconds to mark.
Roslin: ...planet, men, women, age. You know what, do this after the jump. It's all right.
Man: Yes, Madame President.
(Baltar is shifting behind them, trying to sleep in one of the seats.)
(Back in his dream)
Six: You have to believe in something.
Baltar: I believe in a world I can and do understand. A rational universe, explained through rational means.
(Number Six walks closer, kisses his ear.)
Six: I love you. That's not... rational.
Baltar: No. No, but... you're not rational. You're also not really here. Neither am I.
Intercom: Madame President, ladies and gentlemen, our thirty three minutes are almost up once again.
(Back on Colonial One, Baltar opens his eyes.)
Intercom: Please prepare for our faster-than-light jump. Thank you.
Roslin: Cutting it a little close this time, aren't we, Billy?
Billy: Pilot says they've had to reboot the FTL computer again.
(He looks at the clock.)
(Cut to a clock on Galactica.)
Cally: Why do the Cylons come every 33 minutes? Why isn't it 34 or 35, or-
Chief: Cally.
(She looks exhausted.)
Cally: What?
Chief: Shut up.
(CIC)
Gaeta: Fifteen seconds.
Dualla: Sir, jump 237 underway. Fifty-three ships have jumped. Ten still reporting trouble with their FTL drives, including Colonial One.
Adama: We're getting slower.
Tigh: Maybe this time...
(Various clocks tick down to zero. A Cylon base ship appears.)
Gaeta: DRADIS contact. It's the Cylons.
Tigh: Dammit.
Adama: Not this time, maybe the next. Got another idea for the next cycle.
(Colonial One)
Intercom: Ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid the Cylons have appeared again. However, our FTL drive is now working and we will jump momentarily.
(Baltar reaches over and takes Six's hand.)
Baltar: Five days now. There are limits to the human body, the human mind. Tolerances that you can't push beyond. All those are facts. Provable facts. (Six caresses his hair. The people sitting across from him give him a funny look.) Everyone has their limit.
(Out with the Vipers)
Apollo: All right, you know the drill, people. Scatter formation. Keep them off the civvies and don't stray beyond the recovery line.
(Starbuck nods. Galactica's guns fire.)
Tigh: Watch the ammo hoists on the main guns. You've got a red light right there!
(Impact - everything shakes)
Dualla: We've got a hit on the starboard bow. Away the damage control parties.
Gaeta: Base star's launching raiders.
Dualla: Colonial One is ready to jump.
(Colonial One jumps)
Gaeta: All civilian ships away, including Colonial One.
Adama: Recover fighters. Stand by to jump.
Apollo: Combat landings.
(Vipers land)
Dualla: All fighters aboard, sir.
Adama: Execute jump.
(They jump)
Gaeta: Jump 237 complete.
Dualla: All civilian ships present and accounted for, sir.
Tigh: Start the clock. And let's start prepping for the next jump.
Gaeta: (over intercom) Clock is running. Thirty-three minutes... mark.
(We see the clocks being reset)
Chief: You've got 32 minutes, people.
(Back on Colonial One, Baltar imagines untying Six's dress.)
Six: You know you're not safe.
Baltar: No, of course not. The Cylons will follow us again, as they have the last two hundred and thirty seven times.
(They start undressing, pulling the covers off the bed.)
Six: You're right, you know. There are limits. Eventually you'll make a mistake.
Baltar: And then you'll kill us all. Yes. Yes, I know, but... not for another thirty-three minutes.
(She laughs, they kiss, he wakes up. The clock is ticking.)
(Credits)
(Caption: Battlestar Galactica Crew, 130.35 hours without sleep)
Adama: I want to try something new this time. (He's shaving. He and Tigh are in his quarters.) Divide the fleet into six groups. And then jump- (He cuts himself.) And then jump two more times, and on the fourth jump, we rendezvous at a common set of coordinates.
Tigh: Twenty-four jumps to plot. We're breaking our humps calculating one jump every thirty-three minutes. (Tigh is eating some sort of noodles with chopsticks.)
Adama: Get off my jacket.
Tigh: (with a mouth full of food) Are you eating this?
Adama: Not anymore.
(Ready room)
Apollo: Combat landings expected again to be the order of the day, so... double check your undercarriage before, uh... (The pilots are all slumped down, half-asleep.) Look, you've all done this two hundred and thirty seven times. You know what to do. No mistakes, and let's make it to 238. And good luck, and be careful out there.
(As the pilots leave, they all touch a photo on the wall. It looks like a city skyline, but with someone standing in front of it?)
Pilots: Keep us safe. / Remember. / Never forget.
(Hangar)
Chief: 'Kay, do me a favor? Tell Captain Apollo he owes me one wing.
Man, offscreen: Got it, Chief.
Chief: No, Cally, there's three. I know there's three. Can you check it again for me, please?
Cally: Yeah.
Chief: Could we at least get somebody starting to work? Hey, we'll sleep when we're dead, come on.
Crashdown: Boomer. Heard the latest? These Cylons look like us now. Primary fuel?
Boomer: Primary fuel, 2893 KRG.
Crashdown: A marine told one of the pilots that we marooned some guy back on Ragnar because the XO thought that he was a Cylon.
Boomer: You know what? I don't give a frak. Red light in the number four thruster. Go make a visual id, see if it's blocked.
Crashdown: Right. (He leaves.)
Boomer: Right.
Chief: Little rough on the new ECO, don't you think?
Boomer: He's not my ECO. He's some refugee from Triton that I've been saddled with, and I didn't ask you.
Chief: Helo's gone, Sharon.
Boomer: I didn't ask you that either. (He shakes his head and leaves.) Sorry.
(One of the crew guys has a desk set up and there's a line of people waiting.)
Guy: Colony?
Dualla: Sagittaron. How many have you got so-
Guy: 5,251 survivors from Sagittaron, last count. (She holds out some pictures.) We can't transmit photos yet. So if you want, you could leave them here with us, or you can put them on the board outside. Sorry.
Dualla: Thanks.
Guy: Next? (Someone steps forward.) Colony?
(Dualla walks down, sees a hallway filled with pictures and an impromptu shrine with candles, dolls, cards, etc.)
(Colonial One)
Billy: Update on the head count, Madame President.
Roslin: How did we lose three hundred?
Billy: There were some overcounts, a few deaths from wounds, and a few missing during the last attack.
(She goes back to a white board that reads "50,298," erases it, and writes "49,998.")
Six: Do you want children, Gaius?
Baltar: Let me think about that for a minute. No.
Six: Procreation is one of God's commandments.
Baltar: Really? Well, I'm sure someday, if you're a good Cylon, he'll reward you with a lovely little walking toaster of your very own.
Six: I want us to have a child, Gaius.
Baltar: You can't be serious.
Billy: It's Dr. Amarak.
Baltar: What was that? (Six disappears; he approaches Billy and President Roslin) I'm so sorry for interrupting you while you were speaking... You were just saying?
Billy: Uh, I, I was just saying that a Dr. Amarak had requested to speak with the President.
Baltar: Dr. Amarak. I see.
Roslin: You know him?
Six: Have you always been able to multitask like this?
Baltar: Yes, yes. I used to work with him at Ministry of Defense.
Billy: It says here that, um, he's uncovered important information regarding how the Cylons were able to defeat Colonial defenses.
Six: I was always a little worried he was on to us.
Baltar: Were you... going to speak to him? Perhaps I should speak to him if you're busy -
Billy: Actually, I - I think he wanted to speak directly with the President. Umm. Sounded urgent.
Six: Must be very, very important. Maybe something about a certain traitor in the President's inner circle?
Roslin: Okay, there's not enough time before we jump. I want him onboard first thing during the next cycle. Oh, thank you, doctor.
(He nods.)
Six: I'd say you have a serious problem.
Baltar: (still nodding) If I can help - (He turns and leaves rather abruptly.)
Roslin: He's a strange one, isn't he?
Billy: Cuckoo.
(Caption: Cylon-occupied Caprica)
(We're in a forest; it's raining. Caption: Karl C. Agathon, Call Sign: Helo, 6th day on Caprica. He's running through the trees, and metallic Cylons are pursuing him. Helo ducks behind one of the trees and sets off a bomb as the Cylons approach it. He gets out his gun - we can see that he has a first-aid kit with him - and shoots at the remains of one of the Cylons until it stops moving.
(Galactica)
Adama: Twelve more cases of nervous exhaustion, that makes sixty-one. Have the doc start pumping them up with stimulants and getting them back on the line. Pilots too. One out of every three, every other cycle.
Tigh: That's gonna come back and bite us in the ass.
Adama: Yeah, well, we have too much work and not enough people to do it.
Dualla: Fuel report.
Adama: I already signed one of these.
Dualla: Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Com traffic to you from the President.
Adama: Is this my ten minutes, or this yours?
Tigh: Yours. I took ten last time.
Adama: Then I'll see you guys in combat. (He walks off.)
Dualla: I believe it was your ten minutes.
Tigh: If the old man's so tired that he can't remember, then it's his turn.
(Hangar)
Apollo: Hey, you, umm, you see the note from the XO?
Starbuck: Yeah, I saw it. No way.
Apollo: Kara, everyone else-
Starbuck: I don't fly with stims. They blunt your reflexes, your reaction time.
Apollo: Come on, Kara, give me a break. Just -
Starbuck: Why are we arguing about this?
Apollo: I have no idea.
Starbuck: Neither do I. You're the CAG - act like one.
Apollo: What the hell does that mean?
Starbuck: It means that you're still acting like you're everyone's best friend. We're not friends; you're the CAG. "Be careful out there"? Our job isn't to be careful, it's to shoot Cylons out of the frakking sky. "Good hunting" is what you say. And now one of your idiot pilots is acting like a child and refusing to take her pills. So she either says "Yes, sir" and obeys a direct order, or you smack her in the mouth and you drag her sorry ass down to sick bay, and you make her take those pills.
(They look at each other for a second and then crack up.)
Apollo: Well, I'm glad I'm not working for you.
Starbuck: You're damn right you're glad.
Apollo: So do I have to smack you in the mouth, Lieutenant?
Starbuck: No, sir, I'll take my pills. (He holds them out.) Oh, perfect.
Apollo: Carry on.
Starbuck. Yes, sir.
Intercom: Pilots to ready room, preflight briefing.
(Apollo leaves. Chief Tyrol gives them a look.)
Starbuck: What?
(Caprica - We see a case marked "Anti-Radiation Dosage." Helo's giving himself a shot; he doesn't look so good. Suddenly, he sees Number Six standing a few feet away, dressed in a white coat. He stands up and aims his gun at her. A Cylon comes up behind him; he holds up his hands in surrender.)
(Back with the fleet: the ships jump as the Cylons fire at them.)
Gaeta: Jump 238 complete.
Tigh: Start the clock.
Gaeta: 33 minutes... mark.
Dualla: All civilian ships present and... Strike my last. One civilian ship missing and unaccounted for, sir.
Tigh: Which one?
Dualla: The Olympic Carrier. Commercial passenger vessel.
Adama: Were they left behind?
Dualla: I think I accounted for all civilian ships before we left, sir.
Tigh: You think? Did you or didn't you?
Dualla: They're... they're not logged in, sir. I think they may have been left behind.
Adama: How many people aboard ship?
Dualla: One thousand three hundred and forty-five souls, sir.
Tigh: You're telling me we left over 1,300 people to die at the hands of the Cylons?
Gaeta: It may not have been her fault, sir. It may have simply been a navigational error and they jumped to the wrong coordinates. Or the Cylons may have destroyed the ship before they jumped -
Tigh: Or fifty other things may have happened. The point is, we don't know what the hell *did* happen. (louder) Yes, we're tired. Yes, there's no relief. Yes, the Cylons keep coming after us, time after time after time. And yes, we are still expected to do our jobs!
Adama: We make mistakes, people die. There aren't many of us left. Carry on.
(Colonial One - Billy has changed the white board number to 47,972.)
Roslin: Okay. Next crisis.
Billy: Uh, list of calls...
Roslin: Yes. But first, where's the doctor that's supposed to be on board? What's his name?
Billy: Dr. Amarak.
Roslin: Yes, Dr. Amarak.
Billy: Oh. He was on the Olympic Carrier.
(Gaius!Vision: He jerks his head and hits it on the back of a deck chair.)
Six: God is watching out for you, Gaius.
Baltar: The universe is a vast and complex system. Coincidental, serendipitous events are bound to occur; indeed, they're to be expected. It's part of the pattern, part of the plan.
Six: Dr. Amarak posed a threat to you. Now he's gone. Logic says there's a connection.
Baltar: A connection, maybe. But not God. There is no God, or gods, singular or plural. There are no large invisible men, or women, in the sky, taking a personal interest in the fortunes of Gaius Baltar.
Six: (grabbing his face) Be careful. That which God gives, He can also take away.
(CIC)
Gaeta: Fifteen seconds.
Tigh: Maybe this time.
Adama: DRADIS.
Gaeta: No enemy contacts.
Adama: Keep the clock running.
Tigh: What d'you think?
Adama: I think we wait.
(Caption: Battlestar Galactica Crew, 132.15 hours without sleep)
(The clock keeps ticking)
Adama: Get me the President.
(Colonial One)
Roslin: (on the phone) Why this time? Was it something that you did?
Adama: We had a new plan, but we didn't have time to implement it yet.
Roslin: Well, we lost that ship during the last cycle, The Olympic Carrier, did that have something to do with it?
Adama: Possibly. (pause)
Roslin: Are you there?
Adama: Yeah, I'm here.
Roslin: What do we do now, Commander? I've got people on the verge over here.
Adama: We're gonna go to Condition 2. We have to take advantage of this time, let our people get some rest.
Roslin: All right. And how long do we, umm, stay at Condition 2?
Adama: Until I'm satisfied they're not gonna return. It's a military decision.
Roslin: Ye- uh, it is, I know that. You're right, and I defer to your decision. And Commander? Let your men and women know how grateful I am for the job that they are doing. Please? Thank them for me.
Adama: Thank you, Madame President. Thank you. (hangs up) Contact Apollo.
Tigh: (on intercom) Attention, set Condition 2 throughout the ship.
Adama: -tell him to set up a combat patrol around the fleet. Order his other pilots to land immediately.
(Vipers)
Apollo: All right, people, you heard the order. Boomer, Starbuck, warm up with me. We'll fly the first cap. I want everyone else back on Galactica and in their racks. Three hour rotation.
Starbuck: Hey, Apollo, not that I'm not honored to be chosen to sit out in my cockpit for the next three hours, but uh-
Apollo: But why you?
Starbuck: Mmm.
Apollo: Take a guess.
Starbuck: Cause I'm on drugs?
Apollo: You got it. This patrol is 100% stimulated.
Crashdown: Someone else feel like they have ants crawling behind their frakking eyeballs?
Apollo: Hey, how 'bout you, Boomer? Doc tells me you're holding up better than anybody in the squadron.
Boomer: I'm tired like everybody else.
Apollo: You never seem it.
Starbuck: That's cause she's a Cylon.
Boomer: You're just gonna make me come over there and kick your ass, aren't you?
Apollo: Okay, okay, let's set up a patrol here, before somebody gets hurt. Follow me.
Starbuck: Copy that, Apollo.
(Galactica)
Tigh: Oh, a couple hours rack time does sound awfully sweet right about now.
Adama: You deserve it.
Tigh: Truth is, all this has me feeling, well, more alive than I have in years.
Adama: You look that way, too. It's good to see you without the cup in your hand.
Tigh: Ahh, don't start.
Adama: But I know there's a whole lot of people aboard this ship that wish you weren't feeling as good as you are.
Tigh: Ah, the crew doesn't hate the XO, then he's not doing his job. Besides, gotta make the old man look good.
Adama: I always look good.
Tigh: Look in a mirror.
Adama: Seriously.
Tigh: Sir.
Adama: It's one thing to push the crew; it's another thing to break 'em.
(Alarm goes off)
Gaeta: DRADIS contact. Bearing 3-4-8, carrom 1-2-0. One ship. Getting recognition signal. It's the Olympic Carrier, sir.
Tigh: Is that confirmed?
Dualla: It's confirmed, sir.
Tigh: Thank the gods.
Adama: Action stations. Put the fleet into Condition 1. I want all Vipers manned and ready, but keep them in the tubes. Mr. Gaeta?
Gaeta: Sir?
Adama: Restart the clock. 33 minutes.
Tigh: I hope you're wrong.
Adama: So do I. So do I.
(Gaius!Vision)
Baltar: No, no, no, no, no. It's all wrong. If they were left behind, why didn't the Cylons destroy them? Why are they showing up now?
Six: It's God's punishment for your lack of faith.
Baltar: Aww, that's just great, that is. A more logical and useful explanation, please.
Six: All right. The Olympic Carrier's been infiltrated by Cylon agents. They've been tracking the ship all along.
Baltar: No. Then that means...
Six: Logically, in order for you to survive, the Olympic Carrier should be destroyed.
(Out in space)
Boomer: Olympic Carrier, Olympic Carrier. This is Raptor 478, call sign Boomer. I have you in visual contact. Please respond on this channel, over.
Pilot: Raptor 478, this is the Olympic Carrier. We have you in visual contact. Thank the Lords of Kobol - you don't know how relieved we are to see you.
Boomer: Roger that, Olympic Carrier. Can I ask about your whereabouts?
Pilot: We had trouble with our FTL drive. Took us almost three hours to fix.
Adama: Have Boomer ask him how they escaped the Cylons.
Boomer: Olympic Carrier, Boomer. I've been directed to ask you how you escaped from the Cylons.
Pilot: You got me. They were closing in on us when the rest of you were jumping. I thought we were goners and they just broke off. Someone must have been watching out for us.
Boomer: Roger that.
Pilot: One other thing, Boomer. I've got a Dr. Amarak on board, he claims he has an urgent matter to discuss with the President. He's been driving me crazy.
Boomer: Olympic Carrier, can you be more specific?
Pilot: I'm afraid I can't. He says he knows something about a traitor in our midst, and he's unwilling to share more than that.
(Colonial One)
Baltar: Madame President, I strongly recommend that we cut off all wireless communication with that ship right away.
Roslin: Why, why?
Baltar: Look, forgive me for being rude, but (he hits the table) wake up, all right? The only reason the Olympic Carrier is still flying is because the Cylons let them survive. They've been tracking that ship all along! There's probably a Cylon agent aboard right now!
Roslin: Calm down! Start over.
Baltar: Please, Madame President. Listen to me, I implore you. Cut off radio communication with that ship before they send, via broadcast signal, another computer virus to infect our ship shortly before they blow us all up.
Roslin: Commander Adama, are you on the line?
Adama: Cut off the speakers, put it through the line. (he picks up the handset) Yes, Madame President, and I'm inclined to agree with Dr. Baltar.
Roslin: Good, so do I.
Billy: Thank the gods you're with us.
Baltar: God's got nothing to do with this.
Dualla: Boomer, Galactica. Your orders are to jam all transmissions from the Olympic Carrier. No further voice contact is authorized.
Boomer: Roger that, Galactica.
Dualla: Boomer, Galactica. Orders are to send the Olympic Carrier the following message by signal light. Message begins: maintain present position, do not, repeat, do not approach the fleet until further notice. Message ends.
(The Raptor signal light flashes.)
Roslin: I'm getting a bad feeling about where this is headed.
Adama: So am I. If the ship poses a threat to us, we have to eliminate that threat.
(The Olympic Carrier zooms past the Raptor.)
Starbuck: I don't think they got the message, Apollo.
Apollo: Yeah, I see it. Boomer, break wireless silence on my authority. Warn them to stop their engines immediately.
Adama: I suggest that we evacuate the passengers and destroy the ship.
Roslin: That solves the problem if they're tracking the ship. What if they're tracking one of the passengers?
Boomer: Olympic Carrier, Olympic Carrier, you are ordered to stop your engines immediately. Acknowledge. (no answer) Apollo, they're not responding.
Apollo: Are you using the same channel?
Boomer: Yeah, but suddenly nobody's home.
Apollo: Starbuck, fire a burst across their bow.
Starbuck: Copy that. (She swings around, fires. No reaction from the ship.)
Apollo: Boomer. Let Galactica know we have a problem out here.
Dualla: Commander. Message from Boomer. The Olympic Carrier is heading directly for us, sir. They're refusing all orders to stop.
(The clock is ticking down from 33.)
Boomer: Galactica, they're still not responding and continue to head towards the fleet. Request instructions.
Adama: Order the fleet to execute jump 240. Get us between that ship and the fleet.
Gaeta: Commander, DRADIS contact. Strike that, multiple DRADIS contacts. (The clock has just hit zero.) It's the Cylons.
(Cylon raiders emerge from the main ship.)
Crashdown: Cylons, on intercept course. They'll be in weapons range within... two minutes. (An alarm starts beeping.) Radiological alarm!
Dualla: Radiological alarm!
Tigh: From where?
Dualla: The Olympic Carrier, sir. They've got nukes on board.
Adama: Madame President. We have to eliminate the Olympic Carrier - immediately.
Roslin: There are thirteen hundred people on that ship.
Adama: We don't know that. The Cylons may have captured them already.
Baltar: (to Six) She's not gonna do it. She has to do it!
Six: It's not her decision, Gaius.
Baltar: No?
Six: It's God's choice. He wants you to repent.
Adama: Look, at this point, there's no choice. It's either them or us.
Six: Repent of your sins. Accept his true love, and you will be saved.
Baltar: I repent. I repent. I... repent.
Roslin: Do it.
Boomer: We have new orders. We are directed to... destroy the Olympic Carrier, and return to Galactica.
Starbuck: It's a civilian ship.
Crashdown: Yeah, a civilian ship with nukes. (Apollo flies past, looks in the windows.) I don't see anybody in there, do you?
Apollo: The Cylons'll be here any second. If we're gonna do this, then just do it. Starbuck, form up with me. We'll make one pass, from the stern.
Starbuck: Lee, what if you're wrong? (They get ready to fire.) Lee, come on. Lee.
Apollo: Okay, fire on my mark.
Starbuck: No frakkin' way, Lee. Lee! Come on!
Apollo: Mark. (He fires. She fires, too. The ship explodes.)
(Caprica)
(Helo is in chains with a bag over his head. Number Six removes it.)
Six: Are you alive?
Helo: Agathon. Karl C. Lieutenant Junior Grade, Colonial Fleet, PK-789-994.
Six: I know who you are, Helo. It's all right, I'm a friend.
(She kisses him. Boomer shoots her from behind.)
Helo: Sharon? What are you doing here? I thought-
Boomer: Can you walk?
Helo: (looking quite confused) Yeah, yeah, yeah, I think so. What are you doing here, I thought-
Boomer: Let's move, mister.
(As they hobble off, another Number Six and a Cylon come out of the trees and watch them go.)
(Galactica)
Apollo: Sir.
Adama: Son. (They're both quiet for a moment as Lee writes out the pilot roster.) I gave the order. It was my responsibility.
Apollo: I pulled the trigger. That's mine.
(Colonial One)
Billy: Madame President. Madame President.
Roslin: I'm sorry, you were saying something.
Billy: 24 hours, no Cylons. At least you know it was the right choice.
Roslin: The right choice. I'm sorry, Billy, I think I'd like some time alone, please.
Billy: Of course. (He gets up, then pauses.)
Roslin: What is it?
Billy: It's an update on the head count.
Roslin: Subtract how many?
Billy: Actually, you can add one. Uh, a baby was born this morning on the Rising Star. A boy.
Roslin: A baby.
Billy: Yep.
Roslin: Thank you.
(He leaves. She updates the number on the board to 47,973.)
Ecrit par Ephyse
