Saul Tigh stretched out on a cot in the crowded, ad hoc sickbay.
"My wife sent me. This is a frakking joke," scowled Tigh to another patient. "All we need to get better is some of their blood - human blood."
"Well, why don't we just get some? It would be simple. Just load a bunch of us onto a shuttle. They think there's only twelve models. They'll never suspect us," smiled the patient nefariously as he and Saul Tigh looked at the hundreds of unique cylons crowding the sickbay.
