Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

HELO: Sharon, where are you?
TIGH: Starbuck's gonna take on all eight.
It's that crap you're flying into down there. Gums everything up.
APOLLO: Can't you tank me in orbit? DUALLA: Negative, Apollo.
Galactica, the Cylon Raider is marked "Starbuck."
- Yes, Madam President. It was my idea. - Your idea?
It's possible.
Excuse me. Thank you.
We leave no one behind.
TIGH: [Over PA] Action stations. Launch alert, Vipers. Cylon Raider approaching.
The spectroscope people call the atmosphere as CO2, methane, some argon.
The auxiliary RT switch sticks a little, sir, but she'll fly.
Why did you do this? Why did we do this?
[Suspenseful instrumental music continues]
Not bad shooting, if I do say so myself.
This bastard's good.
You are way out of line. I'm not the one confusing personal feelings with duty.
You know? Okay, just thought I'd mention it.
I hit the roll thrusters to level off for set down but only the left one fired.
ROSLIN: Maybe I'm missing something about the tactics involved.
Hey, is breakfast ready?
[Gasping]
[lntense instrumental music]
Not really looking forward to going back out there.
Good thing that I brought one of my own.
GAETA: I didn't know she was coming. ADAMA: Let's go.
TIGH: A reserve? ADAMA: Yes.
If the gas giant pulled her in, its radiation would fry her like an egg.
Safety tip number one: don't touch that.
We can always scramble the Vipers from the search to meet any attack.
I've lost him.
In the last four hours we've combed everywhere...
Excuse me, Madam, but I think you've been misinformed.
- Increased visibility out to 15 clicks maybe. - It's the wrong side of the moon.