Cmdr. Cain:
[over the intercom]
Greetings, Adama, you old wardaggit. Might've known I'd find you and your fleet sitting dead on your astrums.
Cmdr. Adama:
[surprised]
Cain... of all that's holy.
Cmdr. Cain:
[over the intercom]
There's nothing holy about me, Adama. Except maybe what I'm doing to those golmonging Cylons.
Cmdr. Adama:
It's a miracle, Cain. A blessed miracle.
Cmdr. Cain:
[over the intercom]
I make my own miracles. But have it your way. I'll be aboard in a few centons.
Cmdr. Adama:
I'll have some vintage Ambrosa for you.
Cmdr. Cain:
[over the intercom]
I should think so.
Col. Tigh:
Commander, it's impossible. Cain perished along with the Fifth Fleet, two yahrens ago.
Cmdr. Adama:
Yes, Colonel, but that's the fabric of miracles - the impossible.
Riportata da il 05/03/2025 alle ore 07:09

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