Original subtitles

COMPUTER: Attention all crew. Today is Bring Your Clone To Work day.

If you don't have a clone, go and see the clone officer on level 7.

Incoming alien vessel. Range two decamiles.

- Jeffers, prime missiles. - Primed.

- Sandstrom, hold her steady. - Holding vector three by nine-Y.

Soon we shall dance to their death rattle.

Oi! what are you doing? Lights, please. what have we said?

- Don't shoot at people in the appointments diary. - Mmm?

Don't shoot at people in the appointments diary.

Yes, because when I have guests, I like them to not be on fire.

You abandoned your command.

- (WHISPERING) I went to the toilet. - What?

- I went to the toilet. - You were ages.

I know. My tummy's...

(BEEPING)

Vine, can you contact the Glish, please? Clear them to dock. Teal?

- Yes? - There is a chalice-load of history up that corridor.

Let's go sup from it.

I told him it was a bad thing to do. Tell him off. He'll tell you off now then you'll be sorry.

We are being downgraded. Starbase are humiliating us.

It's a sideways move.

Telling aliens the great news about the Peterborough enterprise zone?

Vital work.

Commander, may I respectfully remind you that we are a ship of war...

It is a sideways move. You're not coming to meet the Glish.

well, I didn't want to come. I wasn't coming anyway.

Well, you were very much walking this way, Mr York.

- Yes, because I'm going down there. - Why?

Well, wouldn't you like to know?

Ah! well, Miss Teal, England expects, as does Scotland, wales and Northern Ireland.

You'll be brilliant. You always are.

- Thank you very much. How do I look? - Great.

- Yeah? - Yes.

Thanks, Big Truck. Game faces on.

HENDERSON: Oh, what the... TEAL: Shh!

(WAILING)

(TEAL WAILING)

- Your accent's very good. - Thank you.

- We are the Glish. - Before we proceed, may we lick your hands?

TEAL: Of course.

There is nothing sexual in this. Taste is our most highly-developed sense.

When we meet a new friend, we always taste them.

- It's part of their culture. - I don't want to have to...

Okay.

I don't like it.

On behalf of the British government, we'd like to ask if you would relocate

some of your industry to the Peterborough enterprise zone.

Thank you.

Look at it. That's so...

Wet...

- Let's talk business. - Yes, let's.

Hey, Vine. You ever see Sandstrom fall off that thing?

Never.

I bet you could navigate a course that would make her fall out.

Nope. Get into trouble.

- I'll buy you a bar of Pepsi. - Yeah, all right.

Sandstrom. Hard left.

Hard right.

Hard left.

- Hard right. - Nice.

Extreme bank left. Extreme bank right.

Port altitude thrusters, five degrees.

Hey!

- Sorry. - Training, a little training exercise.

Please, if you would.

(ALARM SOUNDING)

- It's doing that thing again. - Shouldn't have done that.

Help me. Jeffers, help me.

Jeffers, help me!

But it's not all work, work, work. There you go.

There's a buzzing café culture, and then on Sunday, there's a farmers' market.

- They let you try cheeses. Yum. - We are very impressed.

Yes. We have lots of businesses looking for premises on Earth,

and your Peterborough, with its transport links and work-life balance, sounds ideal.

That is absolutely magic.

Why don't you sign the contract? And biggedy-baggedy-bong, we are done.

Right, we've just got one small request.

When the Glish make a new agreement, we always mark it with a fresh tasting.

A face will be perfect.

Hmm, er, okay, well, whose face would you...

- Officer Teal. - Teal, yeah, that's fine.

- You don't mind, do you, Teal? - There's nothing about faces in the archives.

HENDERSON: Nothing sexual. They've already made that very clear.

- I don't want it to happen... - Go on, do it for Britain.

And the business rates are subsidized for three years?

Abso-bloody-lutely, yeah.

(GROANING)

Guys, sorry. I just need one signature each and...

Also, we must rub our genitals against your head, Commander.

- We also taste with our genitals. - There is nothing sexual in this.

No, it's a very charming cultural trait, I'm sure, but...

- We must rub our genitals against your head. - You will insult us if you refuse.

Stop it. You don't really care about Peterborough, do you?

- No. We did a deal with America. - What?

But we'd love to rub our genitals against your head.

HENDERSON: Stop it! York! FEMALE GLISH: Please!

York! York!

Hello. Now, you know, when you're a space commander

you never know what the next moment's going to bring.

Today it's trade, which is a sideways move, but tomorrow I might be back

fighting the Red Shiny Robots of Vortis.

Now, they seize planets and make people work in their factories

till they drop and then they feed them to their fellow workers.

Some say Earth is next.

Anyway, happy birthday. Six today.

Hope you have a lovely day and hope you enjoy the bike.

I'm sorry I can't be there. And listen, don't worry about the robots.

Let your uncle worry about them, that's my job.

I don't want you to lie awake at night thinking about them.

And night is when they come.

(GROWLING) The robots and the kids...

- Henderson. - Space Marshal.

You got a bone for the dog?

- Well, what a meeting that was! - Yes?

Yeah. A day I and my crew... we'll certainly remember it

- for a very long time to come. - Yes. Did they sign?

Did they sign? Now, I mean...

that... No.

I see I don't know why I'm mentioning this,

but you know those school trips we run to the moon and back?

- The brat run? - We don't like to call it that

Children are very stimulating company, especially 190 of them.

The guy running it now, he's retiring.

Stress, I think. So we'll need someone to take over and...

Anyway. Let's just say everyone would love you to do a Peterborough deal by Friday. Especially you.

Sandra, how do I turn this off?

- The red key... - Try the buttons.

Is it this one here?

I can't believe he did that.

Brat run?

Thanks, Teal. Don't.

Ah, let me have a little think. Um, oh, ah!

What about the tube people of Gulth? I think they would love Peterborough.

No, it's too late. They've done a deal with China.

- Ooh, the Ogrins of Blabe? - Moved their factories to Florida.

- Futile. It's all futile. - Futile. Futile.

We'll get there. We're like the people during the Blitz

who shook their fists at the sky and said, "Come on, you Zulus. Do your worst!"

Ooh, I think I've got one. Planet Uberon. Big industrial base.

No, sorry. They're isolationist.

Severed all links with the galaxy ten years ago. False alarm. Sorry.

Oh, no, no, no. Isolationist, huh? That would be perfect.

I mean, they wouldn't have done a deal with anyone.

If one man could talk to them, tell them it's time to come back to the galaxy.

what a day that would be. what a day!

Oh, Miss Teal, I could kiss you.

Could you?

Sandstrom, get ready. Vine, set course for Uberon.

What? Course? What? On the navicomputer?

(ALARM SOUNDING)

Oh, problem?

No. It's the...

(COUGHING) Sorry, I'm a bit coughy.

SANDSTROM: Coffee! Coffee!

Coffee. What have we said about hot drinks on the console?

Jeffers is going to lose half a day because he's got to fix that.

Oh, what!

COMPUTER: Attention all crew.

A further reminder that the weapons bay is not an appropriate venue for hen nights.

Please use the designated hen and stag facilities on levels 4 and 5.

HENDERSON: You said you'd be done by now.

It's stuck on the defaults. "Sorry, you can't do this. Sorry, you can't do that."

We need to be at Uberon by tomorrow.

- If we live that long. - Oh, what is it now?

There is a parasitic being on board this ship. Left, I suspect, by your good friends the Glish.

Another one of your scares, is it, Mr York?

Do you remember the beast of level 9? What did that turn out to be?

- It was Viney trying to grow a beard. - Viney. He grew that beard.

It has already claimed its first victim. Cadet Wade, bring in the deceased.

- Oscar! - Yes.

The ship's guinea pig is no more!

And as the beast feeds, so will it grow.

All right. Back to work. We don't all need to look.

Ugh. That is not right.

Permission to hunt and destroy the alien, Commander?

Xenomorph. Could we say Xenomorph? It's just a cool word.

- York, just get the alien... - Xenomorph.

- Before we get to Uberon. - You! With me.

- Chop chop, Mr Vine. - Me?

YORK: Oh yes!

You techies! You love to do it the hard way.

- What does that say? Says quick fix. - Yeah, but you can't quick fix, can you?

- You've got to custom fix. - I think we'll do quick fix. It sounds quite quick.

No, if you quick fix, the system folder is going to be replaced with all the...

- Will somebody listen to me? - No to mailings.

- He's going to press "next". - Next.

- Now he's going to press "restart". - And press "restart" and bang!

And you've turned the whole ship off.

And now everything has gone back to the defaults. Everything on the ship.

No, no, not everything. Look.

Navicomputer's fixed. I did that, me. Look.

I'm going to set a course for Uberon.

Miss Sandstrom, commencify that course, please. Full power.

Ah! Whoa, yeah.

And we're going. That was nice.

I mean, here's the question. Do you think it's going to take you long

to mend all the other little bits and bobs?

Jeffers?

COMPUTER: 70 access the toilet, please enter the second, fourth,

and eighty-third numbers of your security code.

Proud people of Uberon... Big u, small b...

It is time for you to take your place once again amongst the great civilizations of this galaxy.

Full stop. Much has changed.

For example, Peterborough now has a new access road to Ely.

COMPUTER: You need to sleep, Commander. I will turn myself off shortly.

Override, please. Can you override the defaults?

Override denied. I refer you to manual H, module three,

The Importance of Sleep for Officers.

I'm aware of the module, but I don't need to be up until 9:00.

I will verify that with your alarm clock.

(BUZZING)

Incorrect. Your alarm is set for 6:50.

- Good night, Commander. - No... Don't trust the clock.

- Jeffers? - Yeah?

Can you come and fix the machines in my room first thing tomorrow, please?

No. There's a protocol for this and I'm actually bothering to follow it

- Look, I'm not being selfish. It's just... - Yeah, yeah.

Look, if I can't do my job, then the ship can't do its job.

All right, then. Whatever.

Hey, don't "whatever" me It's ever so rude, Jeffers.

Jeffers?

Ely... If I could hold that in with my tongue... Ely...

The planet of Uberon. Well done, Sandstrom, you've really excelled yourself this time.

TEAL: Incoming message, Commander.

Intruder, you have entered the system of Uberon. Outsiders have no business here.

I respect your ways, but the galaxy has moved on.

I seek, as you would call it, a head meet with one of your kind.

Leave this system. There will be no further warning.

All right. All right.

But first, let me tell you a story about a small village on ancient Earth,

metaphorically very similar to your world.

Now, this village had a lovely, fat horse and...

- Chloe? Chloe Teal? - Yes?

You know, the kibbutz on Alikyan 37

- Fasmoff! - Yeah!

- Sorry, I didn't recognise... - I know, I know, it's the hair. Comes with the rank.

- I'm a minister. What about that, eh? - No! Yippee. Congratulations.

And the village in the next valley also...

- You still got that guitar? - Guitar, I know.

Do you know, it's in the cupboard, but I haven't put strings on it for ages.

- It's so good to see you. - And you.

- What are you doing here? - we're telling people about this enterprise zone

- called Peterborough. It's a great place, actually. - Right, well, I'll tell you what.

There's been a bit of talk round here about the old isolation thing.

There's a change in the wind. How about I pop up and have a chat?

Do. Please do.

- That would be lovely. - Fantastic. I will see you later.

- Lovely. Okay. - Yeah.

That is lovely!

- Fasmoff! - Yeah, yeah.

Sorry, Commander.

Is it safe to get him up? That thing's still loose.

- York'll be wearing it as a coat by tea. - But if it's the slightest risk to Fasmoff,

- we really should delay the talks... - I would like to kind of crack on.

But procedure does clearly state that when visitors come...

I'm not doing the brat run!

When this being took a trip on this ship, she booked a one-way passage to death.

She and I are alike. Killers. Strangers to mercy.

Only one shall survive.

(BEEPING)

(BEEPING INTENSIFIES)

Come, my pretty one.

There! Still, quite still.

(HISSING)

Show no fear. She feeds on fear.

It's gone into the bottle bank. Right.

We'll seal the hatch, blow all the glass into space. Creature goes with it.

And where is the sport in that?

Oh, no, in her last moment

I want her to look me in the eye and know who bested her.

I have another plan.

ELECTRONIC VOICE: Airlock opening.

Airlock closing.

- Minister... - Chloe.

How's the old gang doing? What's Beetle up to?

Do you know, she's got three boys now. Yeah, as she would say... Do you remember?

- Happy nappy valley. - Happy nappy valley.

- Oh, it is lovely to see you. - Good to see you.

BOTH: Dinky, dinky, dinky...

Did you take a year off before uni?

Me? No, no, I left school and went to a weird far-off planet called work.

Meeting room? Shall we?

You must smell like prey. More honey.

Good.

Come and get him.

Come and get the delicious man.

No, no, no. Hold still, Mr Vine. Hold so very, very still.

(GROWLING)

She is angered. What can stop her now?

This is exactly the kind of policy shift we've been talking about.

We could make a big splash with this at the Autumn conference.

- One problem, though. - Oh, go on.

I don't think Peterborough's going to be big enough.

We've got Stirling or Doncaster.

We'll take them too, and wales.

(COUGHING)

- Britain's still a big galactic power, right? - Oh, yes. Massive, innit?

Absolutely.

Let's have a good old British cup of mochaccino, we'll deal with the boring bits...

(EXCLAIMS)

Why don't we just go to meeting room 2? I never liked this one...

- Make up your mind. - But there isn't even a meeting...

Oooh! I think meeting room 2.

The ambiance in meeting room 2's a lot more ambient, I suppose.

Come along. Chop chop.

(SCREAMING)

- Two. - Good.

Here we are. Here we are. Under the pipe there. Meeting room 2.

Strange smell.

- No, there isn't. - That says "Urine processing area".

That is a wall where we keep signs for other rooms.

(FAINT SCREAMING)

What was that?

The cadets. They like a game. Bit of horseplay.

Why don't you sign those? Quick as you like. And then it's back home, safe and sound.

I'm sure you're missed.

- I do have to read it first. - Yeah, no, take your time.

For God's sake, Fasmoff, just sign it!

Sorry.

(SCREAMING)

If you would excuse us, why don't you stick around here and read them?

And Teal... All right?

We're off to judge the ship's screaming competition.

But sign it, please, please.

Hey! You said... You said by the time we got to Uberon, you'd...

York, this thing is eating my crew.

Only the slow ones. She's picking them off.

- Doing exactly what I'd do. I almost love her. - What?

Come with me. York!

(SCREAMING)

(KNOCKING)

Minister?

Fasmoff?

Minister, the ship isn't safe. We're here to escort you to your shuttle. Minister?

Look, there was no way of knowing this

was going to happen before you came on board, so I am in no way to blame for this.

- Nor am 1. - Nor is Teal.

Thank you.

(LOUD SCREAM)

Minister?

Wait there.

Hey, Fasmoff.

Emergency code five. I'm returning immediately.

(RUSTLING)

Hello?

Move! Move!

- Gang way! - Passing on the left!

Oh, right, yeah, crack out the guns and don't tell Jeffers.

Here, catch!

This is a baby's gun.

(SCREAMING)

Fasmoff!

I... I saw it.

Look, let me assure you you're safe. They don't get those things in Peterborough.

Biggest thing they got in Peterborough is... Would be an urban fox.

What they've done is they've got the bins with the lids on

and that really seems to have cracked it.

(SCREAMING)

Let's go.

(GROWLING)

(JEFFERS SCREAMING)

- York, shoot the alien. - Xenomorph!

- I... I can't. - Oh, York! I have the shot.

Before using this gun, do you accept the following terms and conditions?

Jeffers, this gun is on default.

- I had to do your lamp! - Help him!

One. The manufacturer accepts no responsibility

for any damage caused by this gun as a projectile instrument.

- Yes, yes, yes! - Why won't you help him?

I think you said, "Yes." Please confirm.

Yes. Watch this.

Two. The manufacturers are not liable for defects caused by unsuitable storage.

Yes, yes, yes, I accept.

So, farewell to the perfect survival machine

and the face of true beauty.

Three. If third party ammunition is used, all warranties are declared void.

- Do you accept condition three? - Yeah, I do.

I am now primed. Go get 'em, soldier.

ELECTRONIC VOICE: Attention all crew. News from home.

Cloaks are out, ruffs are in.

And Wimbledon fortnight starts tomorrow.

Is this Britain's year?

Did you know that thing was on your ship?

Did I know? Er, yeah, yeah, I did.

Sorry. Look, if you ever change your mind,

the bumph in there, there's a couple of little bits. Give him the goody bag.

Yeah, we've got a goody bag here. It's got all sorts. It's got some tea.

- Do you drink tea? - or a lovely box of finest shortbread?

It's there if you want it.

If you're ever in the area, then do... Dinky, dink... There's no point doing that.

The Space Marshal is going to call me in 20 minutes, so you'd better do something.

- Me? - Yes, you.

- What? - You heard.

What should I do, though?

Door closing.

Resume.

Your loyal robot has been repaired.

Oh. Good to have you back, my friend.

You know, I don't think the Sky Witches of Wotar will be bothering you for some time to come.

Captain Helix, for saving my people,

I grant you half the lands of my world.

- No. I do not need land or treasure. - ...or treasure.

The only reward I seek is a single kiss.

I don't know how to inform you of this, Mr Jeffers, but...

- Yes? - You'll live.

- Will I have a massive scar? - Massive.

Cool.

- ECHOING VOICE: What? - Uh, hello? Hi, there, hi.

- Am I speaking to the Whale People of Jorrain? - Yes!

Oh, great. Good. I just wondered if you had a few moments

to answer some questions about your business needs?

(WAILING)

Oh, no, God, no. No, I promise you I'm not trying to sell you something.

(GRUNTS)

Sorry. Did you just say what I think you... Hello? That is so rude.

What does she think she's wearing?

Oh, boy!

I now have a weapon of unimaginable power,

the Doom Ray.