All language subtitles for Andromeda.S01E04.D.Minus.Zero.720p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-ETHiCS

Shots from
behind this line...

are worth three.
Any questions?

One. All these rules...
what's the point?

Rules force you
to out-think
your opponent,

instead of out-muscle him.

Now isn't that a useful lesson
for life-or-death situations?

Certainly.

And when
the Magog unleash

their dreaded
bouncing ball attack,

we'll make them
rue the day.

Are we gonna
talk or play?

How was that?

Maybe we should talk
about the personal foul.

Dylan, you'd better come
to command. Code Black.

I'm on my way.

We'll save that
for the next lesson.

I can hardly wait.

The signal
was very weak,

but it appears to be
a mission recorder
from a High Guard ship.

We haven't identified
it yet,

but it's definitely from around
the time of the Fall.

Hey. New uniform?

I'll put on something
more impressive later.

Right now I want
the data from
that recorder.

If the ship
was destroyed
late in the war,

it might tell us where
to find resupply stations
or fuel caches.

The signal is coming from
the center of a debris field.

Take us in nice
and slow.

We don't want to bump
into any leftover ordnance.

Nice and slow.
That I can do.

From the dispersal
of the remains,
it looks like

someone hit her
anti-proton storage and...

sent her reactors critical.

You okay? Rommie?

I just got a positive ID
from the mission recorder.

It was the Eightfold Path.

A friend of yours.

We worked together
during the famine
relief of Sculpta 119.

She was a good ship.

We may have company.

Another vessel?

I can't tell.

I'm getting a faint
sensor contact
at extreme range.

Andromeda,
keep an eye on it.

Yes, sir.

This would be a lot easier
if my android bodies were
back on-line.

Hey, I'm driving here.
I only got two hands.

Hey, Rommie, what kind of
ship was the Eightfold Path?

A Mercy Class
medical support ship.

Well that's weird, 'cause
some of this junk looks like
it came from a warship.

Rev?

Harper is correct.

There's even unfired missiles
in her launch tubes.

It's definitely another ship.

I don't like
the smell of this.

Astern one quarter.

Reading targets
all around us.

The missiles
have been activated,

and they're
heading towards us.

DYLAN: Harper, get us
out of here.

Battle stations!

The Systems Commonwealth,
the greatest civilization
in history has fallen.

But now, one ship,
one crew, have vowed
to drive back the night,

and rekindle the light
of civilization.

On the starship Andromeda
hope lives again.

Andromeda, report.

We have minimal
structural damage.

The point defense lasers
repelled most of the missiles,

and the ones that got
through didn't hurt much.

Just a little radioactive
residue on my hull.

The other ship's on the move.
I'm losing sensor contact.

Andromeda, keep your
eyes on the bogey.

Deploy sensor drones,
standard coverage pattern.

Is this the part where
we bravely run away?

Not a chance.

Open a comm channel
and head towards the bogey.

Towards it?
They're tryin' to kill us!

Attention,
unknown vessel.

This is Captain Dylan Hunt,

commander of the Commonwealth
Starship Andromeda Ascendant.

Stand down your attack.

Respond. Over.

What'd we miss?
Anything good?

No. Well, just Dylan running us
straight into a missile attack!

So we can make friends
with the nice people who
are shooting at us.

Great. I love making
new friends.

Unknown vessel, I say again.
Stand down your attack.
Respond. Over.

Well this is pointless.
I suggest we kill them
and move on.

Widen the search
pattern on the drones.

The bogey's active
sensors have gone dark.

They're not targeting
us anymore.

Maybe that means
they want to talk.

Or they're running away.

Incoming!

Oh, great.

We've got hull breaches
on decks 11 and 13.

I'm sealing the bulkheads
and adjusting pressure
to compensate.

We've lost
the slipstream drive.

Switching to damage control.

TYR: Starboard point defense
stations one, four, and six
have been destroyed.

Port stations 3
and 6 are off-line.

Their sensors were off.
How could they see us?

Harper, take evasive maneuvers.

Andromeda, ready smart missiles.
Prepare to fire on my command.

To hell with that. Harper, plot
a course and get us out of here.

Uh, some help here?

Evasive maneuvers,
Mr. Harper.

This'll teach me
to sit at the helm.

Next time I'm all about
environmental sciences.

Okay, we're evading
and maneuvering.

Anything else
I can do for you?

Fire.

Missiles away.

We've lost target lock.

Reading multiple
detonations.

Point 75 light-seconds
from the target.

Okay, how come they can hit
us and we can't hit them?

Preparing another salvo.

Delay that.
Hold your fire.

Rev, find us a place
to duck and cover.

About time.

The sixth planet
in this system
is a gas giant.

Perfect.

Harper, plot a course
for the night side and take
us into the ionosphere.

Tyr, give me a full
spread of counter-measures
to cover our back.

Counter-measures away.

All ahead full.

Glad you finally
came to your senses.

We're clear
of the wreckage.

Good.

Stand down from combat mode.
Keep your eyes open.

Tyr, you have command.

Beka, walk with me.

If you ever countermand me
during a battle again,

I will slam you in the brig
and leave you there to rot.
Understood?

I understand perfectly.

I understand that those
people up there are my crew.

Hell, they're my friends.
My family. My responsibility!

I'm not gonna let you
gamble with their lives.

You want to protect them.
I respect that.

But when you try to override
my decisions in combat,

all you do is confuse
the issue.

You saw Harper in there.
He froze up.

And that's how
people get killed.

Dylan, you're not in the
Systems Commonwealth anymore.

You don't get
backup.

You don't get
second chances.

You don't have the luxury
of negotiating with people
as they shoot at us!

In combat, knowledge
isn't a luxury.
It's a necessity.

In the High Guard we called
this D Minus Zero,
the first day of hostilities.

And at D Minus Zero,
the first priority
is intelligence.

Who are we up against?
What are their goals?

I'm not an idiot, Dylan.

I know as much about
running a ship as you do.
Maybe more.

Ten years as captain
of a freighter doesn't qualify
you to override my commands.

So you're saying you're
just gonna do whatever
you want with my crew,

and my opinion be damned?

Your opinion
does matter.

But there's a time
and a place for everything.

If you've got a problem,
you bring it up in private.

I promise to give you
a fair hearing.

But when
the shooting starts,

you're gonna
have to trust me.

I'm not big on trust.

Then it's time to learn.

Did you hear me?

I'm sorry, I was reviewing
tactical scenarios.

What did you say?

The residue
on your hull.

That's how they're able
to target us without using
their active sensors.

We need to scrape it off.
Any suggestions?

I'll talk to Harper.

Maybe I can get him
to go out there with an EVA
suit and a squeegee.

I'm sure you two
will come up
with something.

He's a good kid, you know.
Smart. They all are.

Beka, Rev Bem,
Trance, Tyr.

They're smart,
they're talented,

and they're totally
undisciplined.

You afraid you
can't depend on them?

No, no. Not at all.

They're not
the weak link.

For that, we need
to look somewhere else.

Oh.

The problem
isn't them.

The problem is me.

Don't ever think that.
You're a fine commander.

Three hundred
years ago, maybe.

But times have changed.
Maybe they've passed me by.

Napoleon Bonaparte
was one of history's
greatest strategists,

but if you plucked him out
of his time and set him down
just 200 years later,

would he have any idea how
to maneuver a tank brigade?

Or how to use
close air support?

Of course not.
He'd have been a relic.
Just like me.

You're not a relic.

The Commonwealth
may have fallen, but you
did not fall with it.

Tell that to whoever's
out there gunning for us.

HARPER: Hey!
Hey!

You should have been
here a minute ago.

You missed the part where
I nano-welded my boot
to the deck plate.

Well then, you need
this more than I do.

Oh, nice.

Hey, what are those?

Minibots.

I built them to, uh, clean
that crap off the hull.

Man, that stuff was tougher
to get rid of than that virus

I caught back
on Kalderash five.

Not to mention,
I have to refurbish almost
30 of these AG coils,

which is 24 hours
work at least.

And that's, as long as I
don't get any sleep
or anything.

Well, if anyone can get
this ship up and running,
I'm sure it's you.

Wait a minute. Aren't you gonna
chew me out for not siding
with you up in command?

It's not you I'm mad at.

It's Dylan. He almost
got us killed back there.

"Almost" being
the operative word.

I just don't want to be
there when his luck runs out.

Where would
you rather be?

Back on the Maru
running cargo?
Salvage?

What makes you think
that would be any safer?

Couldn't be any
more dangerous.

All right. You wanna
know what I think?

Oh, good.
Now for another chapter

in "The World According
to Seamus Harper".

Hey, my favorite book.
Chapter 12, Paragraph 8,
Verse three.

The universe hates you.
Deal with it.

That's comforting.

All right. Remember when
we heisted those grav speeders

on Infinity Atoll,
took 'em for a spin?

Yeah, sure.

Well, the thing that
I remember most about
those egg beaters was,

I'd be whipping along,
and every once in a while
I'd hit a swarm of bugs.

Poor little bastards just
minding their own business,
not doing anything wrong,

and a little bit of bad timing
on their part, and splat,
all over the windscreen.

Tragic.
Damn straight.

The thing is, as far
as the universe is concerned,

we're all bugs just
hopping along, loving life,

until one day fate
decides to introduce

each and every single one
of us to our very own,

personalized windscreen.

So yeah,
maybe Dylan is crazy.

Maybe he doesn't have
a chance in hell of rebuilding
the Commonwealth.

And maybe one day
something will come along
and splat him too.

But we're all gonna
get splat eventually.

Yeah, but you
forgot one thing.

Dylan is not flying around
minding his own business.

He's looking
for windscreens.

Right.
But with us on his side,

he just might be
the only bug alive

tough enough
to blast right through.

More depth charges.

You'd think after three hours
they'd get a little bored
and go home.

Patience has its virtues.

Few more like that one
of them will get an exact
fix on our location.

Mr. Harper, any news?

Still no slipstream,

but thanks to some
hungry little minibots,

Rommie's hull is now
clean enough to eat off of.

That's a start anyway.

Beka, Tyr,
report to command.

Andromeda, take us out.

What've we got?

The enemy ship
is still out there.

I think. It's at least
two light minutes away.

REV: It's difficult
to maintain contact.

All right, then, let's play.

Launch advance
sensor drones.

Come about zero-four-niner
and slow to three quarters.

Something about
zero f--

Now hard left, ninety degrees
positive, all ahead full.

This must be the old
nauseate your enemy ploy.

Keep it up.
Random speed, heading,
and attitude changes.

I want Andromeda bucking
like a drunken Vedran
with a Nightsider on it's back.

Sounds like
my last date.

You can tell us
about that later.

This is what old Earth's
submariners called
a Crazy Ivan...

random shifts and lurches
designed to throw off
a pursuer,

maybe force her
to do something stupid.

Yeah, and what if they
don't take the bait?

Then we run straight at her.
Full speed.

As soon as we're on top of her,
we blow her out of the sky.

What's our
friend doing?

Absolutely nothing.

They're smart,
I'll give them that.

Beka, on my mark,
turn us around

and point us straight
at the target, full speed ahead.

I take it this is the "crazy"
in Crazy Ivan?

Life support officer Trance
Gemini reporting for duty, sir!

Suck up.

Andromeda,
take the helm.

Assuming helm control.

I got it.
This isn't a debate.

I want you, Trance, Tyr,
and Harper to configure

stations for remote
fighter operations.

Give defensive support
in four zones,

even distribution,
3000 kilometers out.

Then what?

Zone defense,
like in basketball.

Stick to your assigned area
and take everything that
comes your way.

If something gets by you,
let it go. Better to miss one
than miss them all.

PDL's armed,
missile tubes loaded.

Fire control
sensors on-line.

Captain, I... I hope you
do not expect me to fire
the ship's weapons.

This isn't the time, Rev.

Nevertheless, I will man
the sensors, but I will not
fire the weapons.

I could've told you that.

Fine. Andromeda,
take over fire control
and bring us about hard 180.

Yes, sir.
Engines at full.

Any indication
what we're up against?

REV: I can't tell.
It could be anything.

Maybe it's a baby space alien
that thinks we're its mother.

Come to momma, baby.

One minute,
twenty seconds
to intercept.

Launch fighters.

Fighters away.

She's running!

No. She's playing hard
to get. Stay alert.

Oh, my. Incoming missiles,
multiple vectors.

Who are these guys?

Brace for impact.

All right, come on,
get back here.

Damn it, boy,
pay attention!

I'm doing the best I can,
Mr. Will To Power.

That's not good enough!

Harper, behind you!

I got it, I got it!

I've got it.

Tyr, back in position. Now!

I've lost my defense.
Hull breaches on decks
three, five, and eight.

Recall the fighters
and get us out of here!

No! We can still close!

Like hell we can!
This round goes
to the bad guys.

Well, we came, we saw,
we got spanked.

I'd say this was anything
but good for my self-esteem.

We're not done yet.

Beka, plot a course
for this system's sun,
maximum speed.

You want me to set up for
the slingshot maneuver?

No, I want you
to go straight in.

Is this the part where
I politely voice my concerns?

You ever stare
at the sun?

Hey, it's all fun and games
until somebody burns
out his retina.

Exactly. The flood of radiation
will blind their active
and passive sensors.

That'll give us the time
we need to conduct repairs
and plan the endgame.

Unless we melt.

Believe me, this wasn't
on my list of things to try
when I woke up this morning,

but here we are.

Tyr, a word.

Someone lied to me.

I was told that all
Nietzscheans are perfect
physical specimens.

So?

Huh, then I assume
your defective hearing
is a personal problem.

I told you to stay
in your zone.

Harper's zone
was saturated with missiles.

He was in over
his head. I had to act.

I'm not interested
in your opinion
of Harper's condition.

You screwed up
and we got pasted.

As long as you walk my decks
and breathe my oxygen,
you're a part of my crew

and I expect my crew
to work together
as a team. No exceptions.

Work as a team?

With them?

They're amateurs.

Children.

And you?

You're an anachronism.

You haven't the first idea
how unforgiving this universe
has become,

and I will not allow you
to find out at my expense.

If you're thinking
of taking off in the Maru,

it won't launch without
my authorization.

I'm not going anywhere...

yet.

So, I take it your
conversation
with Dylan went well.

Well enough to realize
that I've badly misjudged him.

Tyr, why don't you just
tell me what you want.

I think we need to reexamine
how things work on board
the Andromeda.

Perhaps it's time we
considered an alternative
leadership arrangement.

You looking
for a promotion
to captain?

I was thinking more
on the lines of First Officer
to Captain Valentine.

I'm not ready
for that yet.

But I will talk to Dylan...
see what's up.

And if he doesn't
have a good answer?

Ah, Rev, I, uh, I wish
you wouldn't do that.

I'm so sorry.

Sometimes I forget the effect
my appearance has on others.

It's not that, it just takes
a little getting used to,
that's all.

I'm sure humans looked
strange to you at first.

Oh, not at all.

In fact, I find your
people quite attractive.

Dylan, have you
talked to Harper lately?

No, why?

He's killing himself trying
to repair all the damage
we've sustained.

He blames himself
for letting his guard down.

It's not his fault.

Even an experienced
High Guard pilot

couldn't have stopped
all those missiles.

And a High Guard pilot
would know that.

But, Harper is not
High Guard.

None of us are.

In fact, we're simply
five civilians

trying to do the work
of 4000 soldiers

and feeling, well,
quite frankly,

...a bit overwhelmed.

You think I'm expecting you
to react under pressure
like veterans?

You tell me.

You're supposed
to fix my ship,
not beat her to death.

Sorry, Sometimes, uh,
high tech problems
demand low tech solutions.

Sometimes you deserve
a kick in the butt,

but you don't see me
doing it, now, do you?

I guess, uh...

I guess I did...
you know...
drop the ball there.

No, no.
You did your job.

If anyone made a mistake,
it was me.

You?

I'm the captain. It's my job
to come up with battle plans
ones that... work.

Well, it's not so bad.
I mean, you know,
couple of right hooks,

I should have these fire
control links back online
in a few hours.

Nanobots
can handle that.

I want you to build
something for me.

Nice! What is it?

An FMS.

Footprint Magnification System.
Better known as a "Fu...

well, the uh, polite version
is "Fire at Me Switch".

The FMS makes a small
vessel look like a big juicy
ship-of-the-line.

They were used during
battles to draw missile

fire away from
high value assets.

Uh-huh. Kinda like a big neon
"Kick me in the Assets" sign.

Exactly.

I'm gonna have to custom
machine some of these parts.

Uh, the casing
looks a little bulky.

If you're planning
on sticking
this on a drone,

I'm gonna have to build
you a smaller version.

Size isn't the issue.
It's power.

Just get it to work.
We'll rig it to something.

You know, that is really
starting to annoy me.

Yeah, join the club.

More paint balls.

REV: I'm reading multiple
sensor contacts

at extreme range
and closing at 75 PSL.

Fire control is still down.
How far to the corona?

Less than one minute.

Countdown at fifteen
second intervals.

We've lost over
half our sensor drones.

Forty five seconds
'till the sun.

That was no paint ball.

Hull breach in the starboard
propulsion housing.
Thruster 2 is off-line.

Cut the engines.
Inertia will carry us in.
30 seconds.

You can't just let
them blast away at us.

I can. I will.

We've lost the remainder
of our sensor drones.

We're blind.

Blind and crippled.

If Andromeda
were my child,
I'd drown it.

Fifteen seconds.

We're entering
the outer corona.

Goodbye, frying pan.
Hello, fire.

I'm reading a large swarm
of enemies missiles, ten LS
away and closing.

Beka, first
officer's station.

Tyr, activate
maneuvering thrusters.

I want you to drop us
into closer orbit.

How much closer?

We're going to dip
inside the lower corona

and use those flares
to take out the enemy missiles.

You've done
this before, right?

Right?

First time
for everything.

Five LS. Four...

Three. Two. One. Zero.

The missiles have impacted
on the solar flare.
They missed us.

Come about to our
projected orbit.

Deploy bucky cables,

bleed off some of this heat.
Good job, people.

Dylan, can I talk to you?

Always.

You know, there aren't enough
cables in the galaxy to bleed
off all this heat.

When are you going to tell
them we can only keep
it up for 48 hours?

I'm not. If we're still
here in 48 hours
we're already dead.

How about when I try this?

Still nothing.

There must be one data
conduit on this deck
that's not fried or severed.

Try rerouting from
environmental controls.

There. Another victory
for the good guys.

Targeting system's back on line.

Excellent. Now we just
have to restore weapons
and slipstream.

Andromeda, would you
mind giving me and Dylan
a moment, please?

Privacy mode engaged.
Authorization Acting First
Officer, Beka Valentine.

What's wrong?

Well, I was just on deck
42 checking the readings.

Radiation levels are up
12% in the last hour alone!

Yeah, I know.

So, were you planning
on staying here until
we're all extra crispy?

Or could we get out
of here while we're still
only medium rare?

If we leave before weapons
and sensors are repaired,
we'll get a lot worse than that.

Maybe so, but we've been
hiding out here and soaking up
radiation for the last day.

I mean, to be honest,
getting shot at is looking
more attractive all the time.

Anything's better than
sitting here and watching
hair and teeth fall out.

Don't worry, I don't want
want to lose my hair either.

Dylan, what's your plan?

In case you haven't noticed,
we're one for three against
these guys.

Stick around. I'm predicting
a knockout in round four.

Trance, is it my imagination
or is it beginning to get really
hot in here?

Temperature
readings are stable,

and the bucky cables
are still radiating
heat perfectly.

It's all in your mind.

Oh. Good. Insanity,
I can deal with.

Maybe I'll go to hydroponics
afterward and run through
the sprinklers.

Nice.

TYR: This is a farce!

The captain's plan
is killing us.

I can feel my DNA being
shredded molecule by molecule.

Well, look on
the bright side.

Maybe some stray
cosmic ray will zap

just the right gene and give
your children some killer
mutation that will make

all the other Neitzcheans
weep with envy.

You find this amusing?

Even if we can repair
the slipstream drive,
the enemy will destroy us

before we can get far
enough away from the star's
gravity well to use it.

And nothing that...

nothing Dylan
is doing can prevent that.

I'll talk to him.

And what will
that accomplish?

If the radiation is affecting
me, what do you suppose
it's doing to Harper?

To Trance?

And to you.

Tyr, I didn't know
you cared.

I care about survival.

Do you?

You know, a person
could get a tan this way.

Should I turn down
the screen intensity?

No, no, no.
I like the reminder.

I just wish
we'd come at night.

So, what have
you got for me.

Still no slipstream.

But fire control and sensors
are almost fully operational.

Which leaves us right
back where we were before.

Getting pounded.

Which they'll start again
as soon as they see
us break orbit.

Dylan, where ummm...
where do you want this?

Okay, I'm just gonna lie here
right now, if that's okay.

Harper!

You all right?

Trance, get the medical
deck ready.

There you go.

The FMS.

Come on Harper,
you with me?

Did I do it right?

What am I saying,
of course I did it right.

Don't worry, Harper.
You did just fine.

He's dying.

Damn. It should've been
hours before anyone started
feeling the effects.

If he was a good little citizen
of the Commonwealth,
I'm sure he'd be fine.

Harper was raised
in a refugee camp.

He's got a dodgy
immune system
at the best of times.

He sure can't stand up
to this radiation bath
you've got us soaking in.

How long before
his condition
becomes irreversible?

Four hours,
maybe less.

Oh... shiny.

I'll have us out
of here before then.

But if we leave
before slipstream's

back on line, we still won't be
able to get out of the system.

The last thing they saw us
do was to fly straight
through those solar flares.

Perhaps they think
we're already dead.

Do you honestly think
they'd chase us this far
and then just leave?

I don't know.
But I'd rather take
my chances out there

than watch us drop
one by one while we
wait for you to save us.

What about you?

I don't see that you've
left me much choice.

Rev, you and Trance
stabilize Harper.

Get him to the Maru.
We're leaving.

Uh, we?

You're my crew. I'm not gonna
let you stay here and die.

Well, yes, but we
promised Dylan...

This isn't about loyalty.

It's about being
alive tomorrow.

HARPER: Leave.
Stay. Ah...

it's all good.

It's okay.
We're gonna get you
out of here.

Let's go.

I... I dunno.

I mean, survival is fine
with me, but I like my
chances better here.

You know, big ship
good, little ship bad.

We've gotten out of worse
scrapes before. Haven't we, Rev?

Yes.

I'm sorry I won't be
there to see you get
out of this one.

The Divine
has chosen my path.

I must walk
it wherever it leads.

I'm sorry you
feel that way.

I can't force either
of you to come with me.

But you can't make us stay.

Not at all.

In fact, I encourage
you to go.

Because when you do,
I'm going to light the Maru up
like a Christmas tree.

I'm going to make that ship
out there think that you're me,
trying to escape.

And hen, while they're
busy reducing you to your
constituent atoms,

I'll swing around from behind
and blow them out of the sky.

Now, I might get them before
they get you, and I might not,

but you've made your choice,
so that's not really my problem.

My obligation is to protect
the lives of the people
on this ship,

and that's what
I intend to do.

Which is why
Harper stays here.

And you'll take him
over my dead body.

You're bluffing.
You can't make the Maru
look like the Andromeda.

Oops...sorry, Beka.

I never walk into a situation
without a plan for getting out
in one piece.

So make the call, Beka.

Do you want to walk
with me and live,
or walk out on me and die?

You wanted
to see... me?

Here.

Impressive.

I've been flying this ship
since I could walk.

I'm on a first name basis
with every bolt and circuit.

You had to know
I'd find your little toy.

Well, I hope you
didn't damage this.

I'm going to need it when
I fly the Maru out of here.

When you what?

Thanks for the vote
of confidence.

Until we had that little
chat in medical,

I always planned
to fly the Maru myself.

But now that you've found this,
I don't have much choice.

You can't fly the Maru.
You wouldn't know how.

There's a war on.
We work with what we have.

Look, Dylan,

my crew seems
to think that your
plan is our

best chance of getting
out of here alive.

Maybe it is.

But only
if I fly the Maru.

I just ask one thing,

when our friend
up there pops his head up
to shoot at me,

you chop it off.

You've got a deal.

Great.

I'll take weapons, Tyr.
I want you to fly fighters.

Of course.

The Maru is underway.

The Eureka Maru
has opened a channel.

On screen.

Here we go.
You gonna be here
when I get back?

That's the plan.

That's all
I needed to know.

Take care of my crew.
Maru out.

Our crew.

Ready smart missiles.
Full battery.

Point defense
stations on line.

Attack support
stand by for launch.

Missiles ready. Starboard
point defense stations one,
three, and five

Port stations one through
six are online.

Standing by.

The Maru has passed
outside the star's corona.

Launch fighter.

Fighter away.

Here goes nothing.

REV: The Maru
has activated the FMS.

Her sensors are emitting
at full power.

Harper did a great job.

If I didn't know better,
I would swear she were me.

Apparently you're
not the only one.

I'm getting a sensor
contact at extreme range

and closing fast
on the Maru.

Tag, you're it.

Keep it together, Beka.
Don't let him spook you.

Multiple contacts.

Four missiles
headed for the Maru.

All right,
he's taken the bait.

All ahead full. Ready missile
barrage on my mark.

COMPUTER: Collision alert!
Collision alert!

Tell me something
I don't know.

She's not
going to make it.

Covering fire. Now.

Come on, Dylan.
Just one more second.

She's getting hit!

Let's bring it.

Nice timing. See ya.
Wouldn't want to be ya.

We've got them.
Their engines are dead.

I'm not reading any
more enemy missiles.

We should
finish them off.

No. Stand down. Maybe
now they'll want to talk.

I don't want
to talk.

Damn it, Tyr!
I said stand down!

I didn't do it.
I didn't get the chance.

The explosion originated
inside the enemy ship.

Some kind
of self-destruct mechanism?

They killed themselves
to cheat us of our victory.

Or to conceal
their identity.

Hey, boss...

You look
like hell.

Well, I'll be up to
the rumba in no time.

Did we get 'em?

We got 'em.
Thanks to you.

Dylan, the Eureka Maru's
back in the hangar.

Oh, good. Thanks.

Uh... you did good.
Both of you.

Glad you made it.

That makes
two of us.

Uh, you know,
you were right.

The way you
piloted the Maru,

I don't know
if I'd have gotten away.

Oh yeah, well, I save your
cookies, you save mine.
I'd call it even.

You know complete...

I mean, you and Tyr
confronted me

down in medical, I pulled
a fast one on you,

and I'm sorry.

Don't apologize.

If I would've run without
the Andromeda's backup,

I might not
have made it.

You were right.

I'm the skipper,
I'm always right.

Except when I'm wrong.

How can you tell
the difference?

Usually, I wait for my
first officer to give me
a swift kick in the head.

Oh, I might be able
to help you there.

You know, Dylan, I'm still
not 100% convinced about
this mission of yours.

But, you know,
if you ever need
a kick in the head,

I'm happy to oblige.

I'd like that.

Don't get too excited.
I'm still not calling you "sir".

Well, then I guess
"Your Majesty"
is out of the question?

I underestimated you.
That won't happen again.

What happened
to playing by the rules?

Let's just say
I owed you one.

Now, you gonna take
your free throws, or what?