Battlestar Galactica: The Plan
- Year:
- 2009
- 112 min
- 395 Views
The Cylons
were created by man.
They rebelled.
They evolved.
They look and feel human.
Some are programmed
to think they are human.
There are many copies.
And they have a plan.
I was doing fine here.
Thanks for exposing me.
You weren't doing fine,
thank goodness.
If you'd wiped
out this fleet,
you'd have made us
even more irredeemable
in the eyes
of our parents.
No, I'd have proved us
to be superior.
No, no, see,
I've figured out
what went wrong.
Well, that's a very useful
revelation to have
when you're standing
in front of an airlock.
Nonetheless...
Our failure is obvious.
We had our foot on the throat
of humanity and we failed
to step down hard enough.
That was our error.
Have you learned
nothing in all this
time in this fleet?
Because I learned
a great deal among
the rebels on Caprica.
Every killing
of a human being
was a grievous error.
Do you want to know why?
I really don't.
Are you certain?
Because it's fascinating.
Listen, Brother,
if you're right,
was doomed from the beginning.
Yes.
From the very top.
Dad.
Mom.
Dad. Mom. Dad.
Our parents will be
back with us soon.
Of course,
skin and veins and bones,
they won't survive
the death of the Colonies.
Life among humans
will have humbled them.
When they resurrect,
they'll return
with apologies tumbling
from their lips like jewels.
Yes. Be prepared for
some very sticky hugs.
You know, I've got
a yen to experience a nuclear
holocaust in person.
Perhaps with our dear
mother here,
and we can download
side-by-side,
after the bombs
hit on Picon.
Well, indulge
yourself if you want.
But I'll be on Caprica,
making final arrangements
with our contact.
So if you're going to go,
go soon.
It may interest you
to know that the final results
of the CNP project
are working close
to 95% efficiency
throughout the Fleet.
Hold your applause, please.
No applause for me?
I doubt you would've
ever completed
Yes. Well,
you helped a bit.
I rewrote
half your algorithms.
All right,
you were extremely helpful,
but let's not forget,
you got something out of it.
All that poking around
inside the defense mainframe.
It should give you
a huge advantage bidding
for the contract next year.
You know that's not
really why I did it.
No. You did it
'cause you love me.
I have to go.
I'm meeting someone.
Right.
Really? Who is he?
I'm insanely jealous.
I doubt that.
So touchy today.
Well, as a matter of fact,
I'm meeting someone, too.
Business.
A new project at Defense
I might do, so...
You'll call me later,
right?
It's about time.
I wondered when
you'd get here.
Are you clear
on the timing?
Caprica City time.
I recommend you leave
this body behind.
The alternative won't make
for a very pleasant memory.
Oh, and I hear that poison
is really not that bad.
don't you?
Maybe. Maybe I just
like how I look
reaching for them.
Ellen Tigh.
Bartender, let's have
another one for the lady.
Thank you.
You're welcome.
So, you don't have a name?
I am a mysterious stranger.
Ooh!
Seized by God,
they cry for succor
in the dark of the light.
Mists of dreams dribble
on the nascent echo
and love no more.
Jump.
And why are you here,
Ellen?
I mean, you're so obviously
intended for greater things.
Are you a priest?
Would it matter?
You're up.
Counting down.
All functions nominal.
All functions optimal.
Counting down.
The center holds.
The falcon hears
the falconer.
Infrastructure, check.
Wetware, check. Everyone hang
on to the life bar, please.
Help?
Anybody wanna
save the lady?
I'll save you, baby.
Apotheosis
was the beginning
before the beginning.
Devices on alert.
Observe the procedures
of a general alert.
The base and the pinnacle.
The flower inside the fruit
that is both its parent
and its child.
Decadent as ancestors.
The portal and
that which passes.
No. No, don't sweat it.
I'll make the flight.
You gonna have
enough time?
Yes. They run Delphi to C City
every hour now.
Nuclear devices
activated,
and the machine
keeps pushing time
through the cogs,
like paste into strings
into paste again,
and only the machine
keeps using time to
make time to make time.
And when the machine
stops, time was an illusion
that we created.
Free will, 12 battles,
three stars, and yet
we are countless
as the bodies in which
we dwell, are both parent
and infinite children
in perfect copies.
No degradation.
Oh, now, now,
don't tense up, Mysterious.
I'm just saying
there's no point
in judging anybody.
No one changes
who they really are.
If no one is corrected,
then no one learns
their lessons.
Well, I've lived
in this world a long time,
and I'm proud to say
that I haven't learned
any godsdamn lessons.
The makers of the makers
fall before the child.
Accessing defense system.
Handshake, handshake.
Second level clear.
It's begun.
Caprica Control, Yashuman.
Heavy bogeys, six plus,
lower orbit, over grid 15-2.
No joy, Yashuman.
Then go to your window
and look up. They're big
as frakking asteroids.
Copy, Yashuman.
Still blind.
Got some kind of
system-wide crash
in the defense grid.
Try to unfrak yourself
right godsdamned now,
'cause we got multiple
inbound, and they're
not carrying flowers.
Wait one, Yashuman.
We don't have one left.
Accepting scan.
Love outlasts death.
I'm going hot.
Blue leader, do you read me?
Blue leader, come back.
I got no radio contact.
I'm down, too.
It's like somebody
pulled the plug.
We're adrift.
Their ships fail.
Skittering like...
It's been
a long time coming.
...is meaningless
in the absence of time.
What never was is never again.
I bet they don't understand
what we're doing for them.
I think they're grateful
in their own way.
I know I'd be.
Nice.
That is beautiful.
Yeah. What you gonna do now,
Sam?
Shoot till I can't, Coach.
If you let someone change you
or make you apologize,
then you're selling
yourself out, you know.
Oh, and remember
to get Jeremy
to check the numbers
on mayoral staff downtime.
Start it up.
Coach!
You gotta be
kidding me!
If we find a project
whose cost is...
You win, Coach.
I'm going down.
This has happened before.
Look.
Here we go. Move.
Progress reports arriving.
The farms of Aerilon
are burning.
The beaches of Canceron
are burning.
The plains of Leonis
are burning.
The jungles of Scorpia
are burning.
The pastures of Tauron
are burning.
The harbors of Picon
are burning.
The cities of Caprica
are burning.
The oceans of Aquaria
are burning.
The courthouses of Libran
are burning.
The forests of Virgon
are burning.
The Colonies of Man
lie trampled at our feet.
What have we got?
Shipping accident?
Combat? Understood.
Condition one is set.
All decks report ready
for action, sir.
This is a joke.
The Fleet's playing
a joke on you.
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"Battlestar Galactica: The Plan" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/battlestar_galactica:_the_plan_3717>.
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