[Tyrol is working on Starbuck's captured cylon raider]
Starbuck: What seems to be the trouble, Chief?
Chief Tyrol: Well, your new boyfriend's a bit of a jerk, sir.
Starbuck:: It's a girl.
Chief Tyrol: Well, if you don't mind her goo all over your face, you're welcome to her, sir.
Starbuck: Bitch took my ride!
Starbuck: Permission to speak off the record, sir?
Tigh: Granted.
Starbuck: You're a bastard.
Apollo: What's the charge this time?
Starbuck: Striking a superior asshole.
Starbuck: I thought you were dead.
Apollo: I thought you were in hack.
Starbuck: It's good to be wrong.
Apollo: You should be used to that by now.
Starbuck: Everyone's got a skill.
D'anna Biers: You seem to think that your pilots deserve special consideration.
Apollo: Actually, I do. Like everyone else, my pilots have lost their families, their friends, everyone they ever cared about; but on top of that they're asked to put their lives on the line every single day, for a fleet that seems more interested in what they do wrong than in what they do right. They're not asking for your pity, but they damn well deserve your respect.
Col. Saul Tigh: This is a military vessel, we have rumors for every occasion.
Lt. Gaeta: Sir, I'm running every diagnostic we've got. Checking each line of code could take days.
Col. Tigh: I am not interested in excuses. Fix it.
Lt. Gaeta: It's not an excuse, sir. It's a fracking fact!
Starbuck: Starbuck to all Vipers - do not fire... repeat, do not fire! I am a friendly, okay? We're all friendlies. So, let's just... be friendly.
ChiefTyrol: What do you want to do now, Captain?
Starbuck: The same thing we always do. Fight them until we can't.
