Original subtitles

Well, I agree, Trance, but this much I know...

first contact missions are tricky, but they can be a lot of fun.

Until they freak out when they see us.

Nobody's freaking out. We'll do it by the book.

Besides, based on their mayday that we intercepted,

they've got bigger fears than seeing us.

Have you decided what you're going to say to calm them down?

Oh, you know me with my speeches...

But I was thinking, uh...

"Ladies and gentlemen of the planet Savion,

"I know that you're all terribly worried that a giant space creature..."

The Cetus. "The Cetus,

"will arrive and eat part of your planet,

"but, hey, don't sweat it. You're all worked up over an age-old superstition."

Not bad. I know.

I'm not good at giving speeches.

You know, their tech must be fairly young.

Their mayday was sent by radio signal.

Well, then, they may not even have space travel yet.

That's a good point.

Scan the planet for a detailed survey of its geophysical properties.

Also, collect and analyze all radio transmissions they've sent over the last 50 years.

How do we get people to stop believing in a myth

they've believed in for centuries?

By getting them to believe in that other myth. What's that?

The one about the High Guard captain flying around the universe,

making allies, restoring the Commonwealth.

I don't think they'll ever believe in that one.

O-pah!

Come on, Beka. Dance with me.

Friends don't let friends drive and polka.

Polka? Polka!

Watch it, or I'll polka you.

That's called swing-a, baby.

Oh, yeah! All the old hep cats on Earth were doing it,

and you know what? It's a lot like love.

It's, uh, much better with a partner.

Great. You know what? Go over there.

Oh!

How about you, Rommie? Care to, uh, live a little?

How about giving me the honor of this do-Si-do?

Thank you, Harper, but my attentions are currently focused

on carrying out Dylan's order...

search this system's outer rim for the Cetus.

And if we have to, kill it.

Oh, sure, a fairy-tale space beast

takes precedence over my uh, invitation.

As a warship, I'm not optimally programmed for aesthetic distinctions.

However, I'd have to say this music is not my taste.

All right, why is this music on?

My fault. Because I can't play it when Dylan's here,

which is always. He hates it.

Then I'm torn between clapping my hands to applaud Dylan's good taste

and clapping my hands over both of your ears

to simulate the pain you cause me.

Hey, kids, it's just three days until Dylan gets back.

And why is our hero responding

to some minor planet's irrational panic over some mythical creature

when there are far more real threats in known space?

I know. We may as well be hunting for Bighand.

Bigfoot. Whatever.

Or the dreaded "snarkasaurus" of Qualles Four.

Come on guys! After two years, you should know that this is what Dylan does.

He helps worlds that can't necessarily return the favor.

Very well. Let him pursue their myths.

I'll consider this a much-needed respite from the real threats,

like your music.

Hey, what are you doing? I was listening to that.

And I'm listening to this.

It's from an unidentified object

approximately four light-minutes out.

Then identify it. Launch sensor drones for active contact.

Aye.

According to this data, their society still uses digital clocks

and combustion engines.

Their technology's archaic.

Huh. Savion's a clean slate.

With a lot of potential.

They might even become an important part of the universe.

You say that like you know.

I know when some things are worth saving.

Dylan...

The planet.

What the hell did that?

I don't recognize the rad signatures.

'Cause the radiation's off the freakin' charts.

It's lit up like a casino drift on new year's eve.

I'm getting a composite image from my sensor returns.

Visuals. Let's meet our stranger.

The Cetus...

It was supposed to be a myth.

I think it just came true.

He is the last guardian of a fallen civilization,

a hero from another time.

Faced with a universe in chaos,

Dylan Hunt recruits an unlikely crew

and sets out to re-unite the galaxies.

On the starship Andromeda, hope lives again.

Is it the Cetus?

My data-bank contains 10,000 years

of Commonwealth history,

and no one's ever seen anything like this.

Or lived to tell about it.

What do the sensors say?

Well, I can't tell you its mass, nor can I tell you what Powers it.

Do your sensors tell you whether it's the planet either?

No, but that would be my guess.

Mine, too.

Rommie, contact Dylan. Transmit our data.

Transmitting,

but Dylan is 44 light-minutes out.

We won't get a response for 90 minutes.

I can imagine what he'd say in the meantime.

Yeah. "Don't let the Cetus eat us."

There's got to be a good explanation for those scars.

How about the myth?

The Cetus returns every 6,270 years to take a bite,

and I'd say the next one will eat the planet whole.

I'm not ready to give up on science.

I want to analyze the geological history of that planet.

We'll find the answer.

It didn't answer our hail.

Then it's not a ship, or it doesn't speak our language.

Well, let's stay out of its way, or attack it,

but let's not sit here making idle chitchat.

Tyr, you know Dylan's protocol. We talk first, kill later.

Yeah, well, Dylan's not here. I say we skip step one

and proceed directly to step "save our freakin' butts."

I agree. We don't even know if it's sentient.

We do know it's on a trajectory for the planet.

Plot an intercept.

Aye. What?

Get in front of it.

The planet's scars don't correspond

to the tectonic plate boundaries.

This wasn't caused by earthquakes or volcanic activity.

Or meteors.

At least, not any meteors that I've seen.

I guess we didn't find our answer.

Oh, we found our answer. None of the above.

What's the radiometric dating of those scars?

They're about 6,270 years apart.

Just like the myth.

How long ago was the most recent one?

6,270 years ago, give or take.

Then whatever it is, we're due for another visit.

So, are we finished playing "What would Dylan do?"

Fire a warning shot.

No reaction. It's still headed directly toward us.

I guess Mr. Cetus doesn't speak "warning shot."

Perhaps he parleys "full missile barrage."

Parley away, Tyr. This bogey is hostile.

Target its vulnerable spots.

It does have vulnerable spots, right?

- Beats me. - Beats me?

Two words I never expected to hear from a warship

with a brain your size.

All right, then. Let's just throw what we've got

and see where it sticks.

It consumed our missiles.

At least we know what it eats for breakfast.

Rommie, did we damage it at all?

I'm still too far away to tell.

I can't even tell you if it's sentient.

All right, go in closer.

Hit it with an AP Burst and laser barrage.

What are you thinking?

It looks like I'll need a new speech.

Like what?

Well, how about this... "Ladies and gentlemen of the planet Savion,

"uh, there might be something to your myth,

"but don't worry. The most powerful starship in the universe

"is out there somewhere, protecting you."

Oh, that's great.

Now all you have to do is convince yourself.

Andromeda is strong, Trance, but if the Cetus can do that to a planet...

Incoming message from the Andromeda. The lag time is 44 minutes.

Put it through.

Dylan, we've made active contact with the Cetus.

The thing is no myth. It's real, and it's headed toward the planet.

We'll try to hail it, and then see what happens.

Andromeda, this is Dylan. Code black.

Exercise extreme caution. Repeat, extreme caution.

Stay outside combat radius.

Dylan out.

Because of the signal lag, they won't get that message for...

I know, I know. Signal lag.

I hate physics.

You know what?

We're going back.

I just hope 44 minutes isn't too late.

Did the sensor drones detect any reaction to our missiles?

Not yet. All right.

Tell me when they're inside two light-seconds.

We'll stay put at four light-seconds.

When will your drones tell us whether it's alive?

If we had a really long stick, we could poke it in the eye.

If it blinks, it's alive.

It has no eye,

nor, so far as we can tell, any vulnerable areas.

It's got to have something.

Do the drones see anything yet?

They're within two light...

It ate my drones!

Radiation's way up.

Battle stations!

Andromeda, get us the hell out of here. Hard 180.

Auxiliary power.

Rommie, status.

Rommie?

I don't know.

You don't know?

Give her a break, would you, Tyr?

Functions... Overloading.

All her applications are under simultaneous assault.

Can you at least contact Dylan?

Maru...

Mayday.

Mayday.

I don't know.

We engaged the bogey with 20 gigatons of warheads.

No reaction.

We're going to go in closer and hit it with energy weapons.

Andromeda out.

That was 38 minutes ago.

Do you think they went in too far?

No.

Until their sensor drones identified target areas,

they stayed outside the combat radius,

probably four light-seconds.

How do you know that?

Because that's what I would do.

One more second.

Got it.

My power's back on-line.

Great. All ahead full, maximum force.

Oh!

It's not working.

External pressure is increasing.

Power down.

The harder we push, the tighter it seems to clamp down,

like inertial restraints or something.

I suggest we try copious explosives.

Go for it.

Full offensive salvo.

Firing!

We haven't picked up any more transmissions from Andromeda.

Dylan?

If we're supposed to be saving the planet,

why did we turn around to save the Andromeda instead?

Because Andromeda

is that planet's first and last line of defense.

If it falls, so will Savion.

But if the Cetus eats the Andromeda and gets filled,

wouldn't that save the planet?

That might save the planet,

but we would lose the universe.

Fabricating molecular crew plasma... Plasma leaks.

Sequence monitoring waste reclamation bots...bots.

Environmental systems failure... Failure.

Initiating autochef... Autochef.

Harper,

what's her problem?

Simulation... Deploying ramscoop...

Outer airlock rupture...

She can't disconnect from the core AI.

It's dumping trillions of information bits into her by the millisecond.

Are we on-line?

Look at her.

What do you think?

She wasn't built to be eaten by a giant space creature.

Neither was I.

Look, she's got god knows what poison eating away at her AI.

And burning through her entire outer body,

all because you dumped a full payload of missiles on top of her skin.

Yes, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

I think it's safe to say

that unless we get power back on-line, we stand no chance of survival.

Go get us manual control.

Harper, you have to go to the slipstream core to get...

She needs me.

Tyr!

Harper, look, the only way you're going to help her is to get manual control.

Go to the slipstream core.

Go.

Cruiser at one point-Point-point...

the nearest ship is... eight light-Minutes out.

Digestive fluids?

I'm nobody's lunch.

Plasma fires...

Critical levels...

Fire control failure...

Did you hear that?

She's a mess.

She's saying that the outer decks are on fire, and she can't put it out.

Then we'll do it.

Vent everything except deck 12.

That's Harper's route to slipstream core.

Holy hull breach!

Goodbye slipstream core, hello plan "B."

They're venting the atmosphere?

People need to be told these things!

We've closed to real-time communications range.

Andromeda, come in.

Andromeda...

We're getting a message.

Put it through.

Andromeda, this is Dylan. Code black.

Exercise extreme caution. Repeat, extreme caution.

Stay outside combat radius. Dylan out.

Remind me to stop sending messages to myself.

It must have reflected off of something.

Yeah, but what?

Something nearby...

What is that?

Trance, enhance visual.

Can we contact them?

I'm using a laser with sonic vibrations. Maybe they'll hear it.

Andromeda, do you read me?

Andromeda, come in.

Andromeda, do you read me?

They can't get out.

So what do we do?

We'll go in.

We have point-defense lasers and a few missiles

and proximity mines,

and that's all we have.

Beka already hit that thing with 20 gigatons of missiles.

We don't have payload like that, even with the combat pod.

Okay, it's time to think outside the box.

Think outside what box?

When you've run out of conventional options, you go to the unconventional.

Like weapons? Exactly, like weapons,

specifically, AP Fuel tanks.

Outside the box. I like it.

Decks 3 to 11, 100% vented.

Plasma fires suppressed...

Manually venting decks 24 through 43.

Manually venting decks 44 through 63.

Seven decks aren't responding.

Respond, damn it.

That's almost the entire ship, except for command and slipstream core.

We don't even know if Harper made it to slipstream core.

And until we get comm or manual control, we won't know.

Venting 85% completed.

Existing life support rerouting to command, adjacent conduits,

and slipstream core.

Rommie?

Are you okay?

The ship has almost shut down,

so my AI Isn't scrambled across the decks.

Can you contact slipstream core?

We have to find Harper.

Harper...

You know, short, fast talker, too smart for his own good,

hopelessly in love with you?

I know Harper.

Harper's not in slipstream core.

A conduit, a conduit. My kingdom for a conduit.

Oh, crap!

Hot! Oh...

Do you think they're still alive?

You should know Trance, After two years and everything

the universe has thrown at them,

they've always found a way to survive.

He's in conduit 1-4-7

trying to get manual control.

Harper...

Andromeda?

Better. It's Rommie. I'm borrowing a hologram.

You wear it so well, sweetheart.

Oxygen-deprived, and still full of attitude.

I'm not deprived. I'm depraved,

and back at you, baby.

So have you found a way to fix me?

No,

but on the bright side, we aren't Cetus crap yet.

Judging from the friendly stomach acid,

that's only because it's still trying to eat it's way through

your fullerene mesh exterior.

Well, you always said I have thick skin.

It's only a matter of time before it cracks your crunchy shell

and works its way into the center of your chewy goodness.

How much time, Harper? My guess,

about an hour, tops.

Find a way to kill the Cetus.

Don't worry, Rommie. I won't let it hurt you.

She's an impressive ship.

She's a survivor.

Just like Dylan.

You just know he's out there trying to save us.

Or maybe not...

The stellar position monitor just stopped,

which means the Cetus just stopped.

Oh, my god, it's trying to digest us.

It's trying to digest us?

Dylan wanted to save Savion, right?

I mean, it's the only reason we're in this armpit corner of the universe.

If the Cetus ate Andromeda,

I mean, even though we're tiny compared to a planet,

we'd have more than enough rich matter to satisfy its appetite,

which means that Dylan could save Savion

by doing absolutely nothing.

Dylan will make best efforts to save the planet and the Andromeda.

Really?

And you're so sure because...

I trust Dylan to be Dylan.

So the bomb kills the Cetus and lets the Andromeda go free,

and we save the planet and the Andromeda.

That's right.

I call it my "Eat your cake and have it, too" plan.

Uh, isn't it "have your cake and eat it, too"?

Trance, we're working on a bomb that could destroy a small planet,

and you're quibbling over semantics?

Anyone can have their cake

and then eat it.

The real trick is eating your cake and still having it.

I see.

It's a common mistake.

You'll have to fly pretty close to the Cetus

if you're going to launch those bombs into it.

What if we end up killing ourselves?

Well, then we'll be going out with a bang.

On my mark,

drop the bombs.

Ready... Mark!

Dropping.

Are you all right?

We have got to install seat belts.

Unless you wanna bet that was Dylan.

His rendition of a valiant cavalry charge,

with the Maru's AP fuel tanks...

And we're still trapped.

And that's the best case scenario.

There's a worst case scenario?

Dylan, Trance...

They're dead.

In so much as in the next little while,

I imagine this creature will convert us all to energy,

I would expect you to take a greater interest in restoring the ship's power.

I just never thought he could die.

I don't think he's dead.

Really? Well, that's interesting,

Because the ship's sensors, or at least what's left of them,

say he is dead.

That explosion equaled the size of the Maru's fuel capacity.

Oh. Machine logic.

I don't believe he's dead.

When did you find the faith?

I have faith in nothing but this...

when the universe collapses and dies,

there will be three survivors,

Tyr Anasazi,

the cockroaches,

and Dylan Hunt trying to save the cockroaches.

Please,

make yourself useful.

That was close, Trance. That was, uh... That was way too close.

Status on the Andromeda?

They're still trapped.

What?

We have faced the Magog, Kalderans, Pyrians...

I will be damned if I lose my crew inside that thing.

We're getting a visual on the Cetus.

At least our AP Bombs did some damage.

Give me a closer look.

Right there.

You see how all these roads lead to that one knot?

Do you think that's the Cetus' brain?

Whatever it is, it's our next target.

Harper and I just...

...have to find the way to kill it.

Call me Ishmael, but the rad patterns from Dylan's bomb

created a juicy target and...

He didn't die, Rommie.

My sensors say... Right now, your sensors say a lot of things,

but they're blinded and confused,

like a lot of my dates.

It's a perfect example of why a powerful ship like you

still needs a human engineer, Rommie.

He's okay.

The Maru is out there,

even if it is just a shell with a...

...slipstream drive.

There's got to be something on board

that we can use to hit the target.

Are we still thinking outside of the box?

Oh, Trance,

right now, we are so far outside the box

we can't even see the box.

Well, then, let's consider that the Cetus is kind of like us

in the sense that it eats to grow bigger.

The only difference is we don't consume matter. We consume food,

but if somebody wanted to kill us...

They'd give us poison.

That's how we'll kill the Cetus.

We'll give it exactly the opposite of what it eats,

which is...

...anti-matter. Hello.

Once I get manual control, I can reroute the anti-matter

from the slipstream generators to the main thrusters,

then, on three, two, one, o-Pah! Voila!

The Cetus gets one hell of a Heimlich and spews us out

like your autochef's three-Day-old chopped liver,

faster than you can say "uncle," on in this case, "anti."

Will it kill the Cetus?

Who cares? We'll survive. You will survive.

I'll fail.

Dylan ordered me to kill the Cetus and save that planet,

so I need to know.

How I can kill the Cetus, guaranteed?

Nothing is guaranteed. Best chance, if we manually eject the slipstream drive

into its belly, then maybe we can ride the explosion out,

but the hell I'm doing that.

Our orders are to save that planet.

Yeah, well, my job is to save you.

I have to carry out Dylan's orders,

even if it puts us at risk.

Sorry. You're going to live, honey.

Those are my orders.

There. That should do the trick.

We'll set the Maru's slipstream core to overload.

Once it hits the target, it'll rip the Cetus into a thousand pieces.

And let the Andromeda escape.

That's the plan.

What if the plan doesn't work?

Will they be ripped apart, too?

That happens if we don't do anything.

All we can do is try.

So how are we going to get our slipstream drive into the Cetus?

We strap it to a bullet.

What kind of a bullet?

You're riding in it.

If Dylan still is alive,

you know he's doing everything he can to save us and that planet.

Your point? My point is

we should be doing everything we can to kill the Cetus,

not just save our butts.

Dylan expects us to save our butts.

And sacrifice Savion?

If it means surviving to one day save many Savions, yes.

We're no good to the universe dead.

And we're no good to the universe

if we're too afraid to risk our lives to do the right thing,

to help worlds that need help.

When the Magog attacked this ship,

I promised Dylan that even if he died, I would continue his mission.

Then by all means, continue it...

But I will not die because of your misguided sentiment

to memorialize a man who is not dead.

At the ship's maximum speed,

I can penetrate its skin and eject the slipstream drive

right on top of the target.

But the Cetus' shape is constantly changing.

How can we be sure that we're going to hit its brain?

I can't be sure, but I can give it one hell of a headache.

It sounds dangerous. It is dangerous. That's why you're going to wear this.

This is not going to protect me

in the event of an explosion.

Trance, you are not coming with me.

Yes, I am. No, you're not.

Now, put it on. That's an order.

When the Andromeda's free, use the comm light to hail her.

Dylan... Trance, you're not coming with me.

Respectfully requesting to come with you, sir.

Please. Besides, this won't help me anyway.

Trance Gemini, welcome aboard.

I'm asking you not to do this.

And I'm answering you. No.

You can thank me later.

For what?

If I don't follow Dylan's orders

to kill the Cetus and save the planet, I might as well be dead,

because I failed in my mission.

All right. You're under the influence of stomach acid.

You're not thinking straight. This isn't about following orders

or completing the mission, is it?

It's about Dylan,

because you think he's dead,

and you don't think you can live without him, right?

I'm programmed to carry out orders.

That's where we're different.

You see, I have a choice.

I choose not to allow some stupid broken-hearted suicide,

especially when you're taking me with you.

You're wrong, Harper.

I do have a choice.

And that is where you're wrong,

because I just got manual control.

Ladies and gentlemen, uh, Nietzschean, thank you for flying Andromeda.

That sound of flowing air you now hear, and crackling conversation,

is my genius and your survival once again.

Now, for those of you who haven't heard Harper's plan,

here's the nutshell.

Rerouting anti-matter to the main thrusters,

which will, when you power them up,

send the Cetus to heartburn hell and us into chunky-hurl heaven.

It may get a little messy, but at least we'll all live.

I'll save us and raise you one.

If we eject the slipstream drive,

we'll kill the Cetus, right?

What is with the death wish?

Yeah, sure, if you want to die

surfing an exploding vomit wave.

Hey, I've surfed the reaction of an exploding star before.

I think can ride out a little Cetus vomit.

I will not allow you to risk our lives

by ejecting that slipstream drive.

So instead, you'll just take over the ship after we've saved our asses.

You don't really believe that Dylan's still alive, do you?

You just said that so I'd think we'd still be safe after we got free.

Beka...

I once told Dylan that this mission

was nothing but an excuse to reshape the universe according to his will.

It is.

In these two years,

and for reasons I'm not even sure I understand,

some significant part of me has grown to prefer that shape.

I do believe Dylan's alive.

Convince me.

If you really think that Dylan is still out there trying to save us,

eject the slipstream drive.

Kill that thing,

before Dylan dies trying to kill it for us.

Do you want to reshape the universe or not?

You're awfully calm considering we're about to die.

That's not necessarily true, now, is it?

Not necessarily.

That's right,

because once we get Andromeda free,

they'll continue my mission,

and that is my life.

All ahead full.

You said you came from a bad future.

What exactly went bad?

In that future, I made some mistakes,

and only Beka and I survived.

That does sound bad.

Looks like I've put you in a different kind of future,

one you won't survive.

On the other hand,

we'll make a better one for everyone else...

I hope.

Uh, guys? Maybe it's me.

Maybe I didn't explain the rules of the game well,

but if you don't get us out of here in less than two minutes,

we're going to be turned into tasty chewy people bits.

Harper, please.

Is this really what you want?

No, but it's what we have to do.

All right.

For you.

Let's see if I can't eject this damn slipstream drive.

Dylan, the Andromeda is launching from the Cetus!

They made it?

They've made it!

Reverse thrusters!

We did it.

You're right, Harper.

We killed the Cetus.

And saved the planet.

Dylan...

They must have ejected their slipstream drive.

The Cetus is dying.

If we don't clear this area, it won't be the only thing dying.

Yes!

We did it!

We did.

You could even say we had our cake outside of the box

and ate it, too. You could say that, yes.

Incoming message.

It's from the Andromeda, and it's in real time.

I love real time.

What, Beka?

I'm just glad we're on the same team.

That's all.

Somebody say something.

I just want to hear your voices.

Welcome back... Dylan, Trance, hello. Welcome back.

Hello.

You know, for something that's supposed to be a myth,

the Cetus did a hell of a lot of damage.

Yeah, well, you should see the other guy.

Yeah, well, you know, about that,

ejecting the slipstream drive,

that was risky...

And it's exactly what I would have done.

We know.

Your willingness to defy the universal odds is a disease

that apparently we have all contracted.

Well, I have to think that's a good thing,

because somehow we keep winning.

Where's Harper?

Almost there, Rommie.

He's almost here.

Ah.

Well, I'll just say this and get it out of the way.

I'm proud of you.

Two years ago, you'd be thinking of your own survival

and not that planet's.

I know you had another way out,

but you did the right thing.

Now I know I can count on you to continue my mission

even if I'm not here.

One day, the universe will count on it, too.

Believe me, that day will come.

Sooner than you think.

A freakin' sock-foot kilometer in one minute,

and I still missed the inspiring speech.

Hey, but I didn't miss the dancing.

Shall we?

We shall.

Oh!

Hey,

stoic one.

We're alive.

Dance with me.