Previously: Starbuck was rude to Apollo, and Tigh was rude to Starbuck, but that was okay because he's Tigh. And because she's Starbuck.
We open with a press conference. The Prez is discussing the fleet's fuel shortage. Apparently even now, as they fight to survive, a ragtag fugitive fleet is on a lonely quest for a whole mess of tylium ore. A shot of the Colonial One is inserted, with a caption indicating that it's Day 36, and that fuel reserves are down to 5\%. Further exposition is provided by a reporter who mentions that tylium is hard to find. He asks how long the fleet's current fuel supplies can last. The Prez non-answers that it depends on how well they conserve. Well. Yes. That's why he asked how long it could last. She needs a press secretary. Reporter #2 confirms that there's only enough fuel for two more jumps, and the other reporters all pester the Prez with follow-up questions till they're basically going "Badger badger badger," and then the Prez goes, "Snake, a snaaaaake!" In her head. Because there's a snake looped over the microphones in front of her. The Prez tries to ignore the pretty snake, and finally stammers that if they can't find more tylium, they'll look for a nice planetary system and try to colonize it. The Prez looks down, where I think some Scarlet King snakes have joined the reptile review on her podium. Reporter #2 mentions that they won't be able to perform evasive maneuvers, and while the Prez stammers some more, she asks, "Wouldn't we be like ducks in a Cylon shooting gallery?" Heh. It's a funny image. The Prez says, "Yes, we would," as she watches the slithering snakes. The reporters trade glances among themselves, probably thinking, "If only we still had a TV network, this would be such a scoop." The Prez finally apologizes, and excuses herself. She pulls her hand out from under the mass of snakes on the podium, and exits. The reporters murmur as Billy follows the Prez out.
Boomer and Crashdown are flying their Raptor through an asteroid field. Judging by Crashdown's crankiness, they've been at it a while. To cheer him up, Boomer starts to tease him about how a certain Ensign Davis has a crush on him: "Oh, you haven't noticed how she always sits next to you in the mess?" Boomer imitates Davis talking breathily and giggling in a sorority-girl way. Crashdown tries to change the subject, complaining that all the debris is making scans impossible. He thumps his monitor angrily while Boomer continues, "I heard about how you found water, how you saved the whole fleet..." Suddenly, Crashdown's monitor finds something good. See, thumping electronics always makes them work. I'm serious. They probably didn't thump the Cylons enough back when they were still toasters, and look what happened. Anyway, Crashdown whoops, "That asteroid dead ahead is a mountain of tylium!" Boomer hoorays that they're heroes, and Crashdown snits, "Great, Boomer. The second that I score, the bus driver jumps in and takes the credit." Boomer starts to respond, but then sees something else. Cylons, in fact. A mess of raiders pop out from behind the asteroid. Crashdown moans, "We are well and truly fracked. The only tylium within twelve light-years and we gotta kiss it goodbye." The Raptor retreats as we see the Raiders whoosh over a base on the asteroid's surface.