Wing Commander (1999)
Rosie Forbes: You've got balls.
Maniac: You should see 'em.
Rosie Forbes: Mine are bigger.
Maniac: I've been told size doesn't matter.
Rosie Forbes: She lied.
[Explaining why no one mentions the names of dead pilots]
Angel: Let me give you a reality check. In all likelihood you're going to die out here. We're all going to die out here, but none of us need to be reminded of that fact. So you die, you never existed. Understand?
[Blair is sitting in the cockpit of a parked Rapier fighter on the flight deck]
Angel: Two Dralthis on your tail. One above, one below. You got five, maybe ten seconds. Clock's ticking, what do you do?
Blair: Simple. I go vertical and inverted, do a 180 at full throttle, apply brakes and drop in behind them.
Angel: Bang, you're dead. Not fast enough. Dralthis are too quick, particularly in a climb. You've just taken a missle up your tailpipe. OK, let's reverse the situation, you're locked on a Dralthi, it goes evasive, enters an asteroid belt.
Blair: If I'm locked on, there's no such thing as evasive action.
Angel: And you're dead again. You see, it's an ambush, five or six fighters hide behind rocks the size of your swollen head and pants. A Kilrathi gangbang. What's the matter, did I bruise your ego?
Blair: No, I'm not used to getting combat tips from a grease monkey, that's all.
Angel: Lieutenant Commander Deveraux, your wing commander. You have a name?
Blair: Uh, Lieutenant Blair, ma'am.
Angel: Well Lieutenant Blair, if you want to play at being a fighter pilot I suggest you find a virtual fun zone. Meanwhile, step down from the Rapier.
[about a show-off fighter maneuver Rosie's just done while landing]
Angel: I hope it felt very good.
Rosie Forbes: Better than sex.
Rosie Forbes: Better than sex with myself.
Blair: What happened?
Taggart: You just plotted a jump through a gravity well in under 10 seconds. The Navcom can't do that.
Maniac: That's not bad. I mean, that's not bad for the second best pilot in the Academy!
Taggart: YOU SHUT UP! Next time you don't follow my orders I dump you with the rest of the garbage, you got that? You plot a course for the Tiger Claw, Mr Blair.
Blair: Yes sir.
[Taggart leaves the cockpit]
Maniac: That guy's got a serious attitude problem.
[after Rosie completes a barrel roll the second before landing]
Maniac: Now that was a sweet 360!
Rosie Forbes: Actually, that was a 540.
Maniac: Did you just do that to impress me?
Rosie Forbes: I'm just trying to redirect some of that testosterone. You're a total... Maniac.
Maniac: [salutes] Todd "Maniac" Marshall, at your service, ma'am!
Blair: My whole life, I've taken crap because I'm part Pilgrim. And I don't know why.
Taggart: Sit down. You're one of the last descendants of a dying race. Pilgrims were the first space explorers and sailors. For five centuries they defied the odds. They embraced space, and for that, they were rewarded with a flawless sense of direction. They could feel magnetic fields created by quasars and black holes, negotiate singularities, navigate not just the stars, but space-time itself.
Blair: Like a Navcom AI?
Taggart: No no, you've got it backwards. The billions of calculations each second necessary to lead us through a black hole or quasar is the Navcom recreation of the mind of a single Pilgrim.
Blair: Then why did the war start?
Taggart: You spend so much time out here alone, you end up losing your humanity. When Pilgrims began to lose touch with their heritage, they saw themselves as superior to man. And in their arrogance, they chose to abandon all things human and follow what they called their destiny. Some say they believed they were gods.
Blair: Do you believe they were gods?
Taggart: No. But I do believe they were touched by God. Like it or not, you've got some of that inside you.
[Gerald comes onto the Diligent wearing a combat suit]
Taggart: Aren't you on the wrong ship, Commander?
Cdr. Gerald: I still have a responsibility to this crew, Commodore. And excuse my bluntness, but if you think I'm going to let my men be flown into combat by a rogue and a half-breed, you are sadly mistaken.
Taggart: [to Blair] He really is a good guy once you get to know him.
Ambassador: I regret to report that all diplomatic avenues with the Kilrathi have been exhausted. It is now clear they have no interest in coexisting with us or any other race. It is my sad duty to inform you that as of 6 A.M. this morning, we are formally at war with the Kilrathi. God help us all.