All language subtitles for Star Trek Discovery S01E01 The Vulcan Hello 1080p AMZN WEB-DL DDP5 1 H 264-NTb

(others shout Klingon phrase
in unison)

"We come in peace."

BURNHAM:
We come in peace--
that's why we're here.

Isn't that the whole
idea of Starfleet?

GEORGIOU:
Hey, I taught you that.

You don't trust
me, Captain?

I trust you with my life,
Commander Burnham,

but it doesn't change the
fact that you're lost.

Very lost.

Technically,
we would be lost.

How long until
that storm

comes crashing
down on us?

I estimate one hour,

17 minutes, 22 seconds.

Which is why I've made sure
we're not lost.

The map says the well
is this way, Captain.

BURNHAM: This drought's
going to last 89 years.

The Crepusculans are facing
extinction as a species.

See those egg sacs?

Those are their offspring.

GEORGIOU:
They've survived here for over
a thousand years, Michael.

Right, and if we don't
do something now,

they won't live
another thousand hours.

The ambient radiation

from a nearby drilling accident
dried out their water table.

If we can get in and out
without making contact,

we can steer clear
of General Order One.

And there is the well.

I stand corrected.

Ye of little faith.

Oh, never had a doubt.

Tell me what I need
to break through this bedrock.

.7-second field burst
at level setting 13.5.

Georgiou to Shenzhou.

Two to transport.

BURNHAM:
The storm is moving
faster than I thought.

The ship won't be able
to pick up our signatures.

Unless we can contact
Lieutenant Saru,

we could be trapped
here until it's over.

Let's take a walk.

Follow my footsteps,
Michael, even lines.

Why? Captain,
where are we going?

It's your turn to
trust me, Number One.

But now we're
really lost.

We're far too small
to be seen with the naked eye.

And you can't set a course
without a star.

Is it wise to be heading

away from the village?
It's hard to imagine

you've served under
me for seven years.

I think it's time

that we talked about you
having your own command.

I'm grateful, Captain.

Though I would be
significantly more so

if I thought we had any chance
of ever returning to the ship.

Just keep walking, Michael.

What will you do

if you were stuck here
for 89 years?

A likely scenario--

unless we die here
in the desert.

But say you lived.

As a xenoanthropologist,
I could reveal myself

to the natives,
learn their culture,

try to fit in...
if possible.

And you, Captain?

What will you do
if we're trapped
here for 89 years?

That's easy. I'd escape.

These are our footprints.

You've walked us in a circle.

Not exactly
a circle.

How did they find us?

I set a star.

*

*

*

*

(original Star Trek theme
plays)

*

BURNHAM:
First Officer's Log,
Stardate 1207.3.

On Earth, it's May 11, 2256,

a Sunday.

The crew of the U.S.S. Shenzhou

has been called to the edge
of Federation space

to investigate damage done to
one of our interstellar relays.

Blast burns around the hole
are inconclusive.

Were they caused
by an asteroid,

or was it
deliberately destroyed

to limit
Starfleet communications?

And if so, by whom?

Despite the risks
of our mission,

I remain optimistic.

It's hard not to be
in the face of such beauty--

in this case,
a binary star system.

Around these two suns,

ice, dust and gasses collide

to form the planets future
generations will call home.

is born from chaos
and destruction.

SARU:
Based on initial readings,

I would say
the relay doesn't appear

to have been
damaged naturally.

I don't like
the look of that.

Well, keep looking.

Well, the comment
was figurative;

I'm expressing concern.

Finish your scans so you
can express facts instead.

BURNHAM:
The bridge is yours, Mr. Saru.

SARU:
Yes...

Commander.

Yes, Number One.

Your chief science officer
is worried.

Something took a bite
out of our relay.

Saru thinks it was malicious.

Saru's Kelpien-- he thinks
everything's malicious.

What do you think?

Any idea what it is?

By all indications,
nothing intelligent.

But...?

Starfleet's reputation
for tech hygiene is exemplary.

When a relay goes down,

the Federation sends a ship
to fix it.

You think someone's trying
to get our attention?

If they are, they have.

Lieutenant Saru,
what do we have?

Ah. I have taken the initiative
of keeping us

at maximum
scanning distance

in case of anything
threatening out there, Captain.

Yes. Number One tells me
you suspect foul play.

Despite the first officer's
constant need

to dismiss my ideas...

She apparently
agrees with you.

Really?

GEORGIOU: I'm
shocked as well.

Ensign Connor,

agreement between
my senior officers.

Note the date
and time.

Noted, Captain.

BURNHAM: Is this
amount of sarcasm

always necessary?

Necessary? No.

But I do like it.

SARU: There is
something else out there.

What do you
have, Saru?

Recalibrating sensors.

CONNOR: Electronic
alignment in process.

SARU:
Active scans
are being deflected.

I'm having trouble
locating the source.

So something's out there,

but no one can tell me
where or what it is.

SARU:
Ah, wait.

I have it.

No. Recalibrating.

GEORGIOU:
Any time now, Mr. Saru.

I have it.

GEORGIOU:
Magnify.

Is that what damaged our relay?

What am I looking at?

Object of unknown origin.

Let's get more specific.

I'm unable to bring it
into focus.

Number One?

BURNHAM:
Range is 2,000 kilometers.

Bearing 358 mark 269.

Roughly 150 meters long,
tucked into that accretion disk.

Almost directly below us.

It's in a sensor dead zone.

Some kind of scattering field is
confounding the ship's ability

to translate the image.

As science officer,

I can provide a far more
concrete and in-depth analysis

than simply reading data
off a monitor.

But considering it's scrambling
our optical processors,

how are we going
to be able to see it?

Thoughts,
Number One?

With such little data,
I'd prefer not to speculate.

Oh, I will.
It's lurking.

The scattering field it's
emitting suggests intent.

We see something
we don't understand

and instantly cast judgment?

Maybe it's lost.

Maybe it's afraid
to show us its whole self.

Hiding, but maybe
hoping to be found.

Here we are, speculating.

I respectfully recommend
we leave it alone.

GEORGIOU:
I'm not sure
we have much choice.

We can't lock on to it,
and we don't have a shuttle

maneuverable enough
to navigate the ring.

I'll go.

All I need is a thruster pack.

SARU:
With the high levels
of radiation

kicking off those binaries,
she'll have 20 minutes

until her DNA starts
to unravel like noodles.

Like noodles?

I'll be back in 19.
A flyby.

SARU:
It seems a waste
of the ship's

resources.
What will be gained?

You do understand
that being afraid

of everything means
you learn nothing.

There's no opportunity
to discover,

to explore.
And here I thought

we were doing a deep-space
communication relay audit.

You're both right.

Saru, go with her.

Captain!
Captain!

BURNHAM:
Best to keep variables

to a minimum.
I wouldn't want

to put my
colleague at risk.

And you, Mr. Saru,
are you equally

happy not to be put at risk?

Oh, on any occasion, Captain.

You realize,

once you reach
that scattering field,

you could be cut off
from all communication.

We've come all this way,
Captain.

It would be... irresponsible

to leave whatever
that is unknown.

Just a flyby.

Just a flyby.

FEMALE COMPUTER VOICE:
Commencing airlock

depressurization sequence.

: Commander Burnham,
this is Ensign Danby Connor.

On behalf of Captain Georgiou
and the entire crew

of the U.S.S. Shenzhou,

we'd like to welcome you
to flight 819

with non-stop service to the
"object of unknown origin."

The temperature outside is a
brisk minus-260 degrees Celsius.

We are forecasting
some mild debris,

but anticipate a smooth ride.

This is Commander Burnham.

Commencing
reconnaissance mission

to field void
and unknown object.

Data collection is on
and nominal.

All lights are green.

JANUZZI:
Establishing interlink frequency

with Commander Burnham's EV.

Channel clear...

and ready to transmit.

DETMER: Confirming six-second
directional thrust

for saucer realignment.

COMPUTER: Commencing final
prelaunch system checks.

Life support: nominal.

Oxygen/nitrogen saturation:
nominal.

Air pressure and flow: nominal.

Communication module: active.

*

COMPUTER:
Filters at 0.01% saturation.

JANUZZI:
Preflight checklist complete.

SARU:
The object is 2,000
kilometers...

*

Computer, enable igniter.

COMPUTER: Ten seconds
to thruster ignition.

Ten, nine, eight,

seven, six, five,

four, three, two, one.

CONNOR:
Body scan on line, heart rate

79 and rising, BP 130/70.

That's a little
elevated for her.

She's having fun.

DETMER: Almost to the
debris field, Captain.

Understood.

Michael, watch your time.

19 minutes,
not a nanosecond longer.

Aye, Captain.

I'm fully aware.

Boost signal.

Unable to comply.
Scattering field.

It must be interfering
with comms.

Mission clock
at 17 minutes,

30 seconds.

Interference is starting

to degrade resolution.

CONNOR:
Routing additional power

to subspace antenna.

COMPUTER: Distance to object
1,000 kilometers...
Shenzhou, do you copy?

...and closing.
Shenzhou,
do you copy?

Implementing automatic
course correction.

Hello.

Shenzhou, are you able
to see this?

Michael, can you hear me?
Acknowledge.

Michael

Acknowledge.
JANUZZI: There's just
too much interference.

Shenzhou, do you copy?

Data Collection Unit,
are you there?

FEMALE HELMET COMPUTER:
Internal computer on line.

Good. Mission time?

12 minutes, 58 seconds.

Plenty of time to take a peek.

Even from this distance,
it's clearly not debris.

CONNOR: 12 minutes and 48
seconds until maximum radiation

exposure.
The commander is less than
ten meters from the outermost

edge of the
scattering field.

I can't remember who said
sculptures are

crystallized spirituality.

Headlamp.

But I see what they meant.

This is Burnham in the blind.

I'm above the object,
which is old.

Centuries old.

It's difficult to tell
if it was constructed or carved.

The only word to effectively
describe it is...

wow.

But I'll try
to be more precise.

Its surface has the appearance
of stone

with an exoskeleton
of metal alloy.

Incredibly intricate.

The construction and design are
nothing short of astounding.

I wish you could see
what I'm seeing.

It is sublime.

It's impossible to discern
a practical purpose.

Going to land on it,
get a closer look.

Nice and easy.

Hold on.

My presence has triggered
some sort of motion response.

HELMET COMPUTER:
Mission countdown:
ten minutes, 15 seconds.

Warning. Proximity alert.

Scanning for database
recognition.

Iconography confirmed:
Klingon.

I'm Commander Burnham

of the United
Federation of....

DETMER: Still no sign
of Commander Burnham.

Mission clock

runs out in 15 seconds.

There's still too much
interference.

Initiating...

I have Number One.

Telemetry only.

Blood pressure is 70
and falling.

She won't make it
unless we get her back now.

GEORGIOU: Transporter Control.

Do we have her, Mr. Weeton?

Pattern integrity's
too weak, Captain.

Saru, get a lock on her.
Boost her signal.

Captain, there is no signal.

You better get me a signal.

Remotely fire
her jetpack.

:
She's off line.
CONNOR:
She's floating free.

Engineering.
Tractor beam?

Can't get a lock. We're running
manual calculations.

The scattering field
is still a problem, Captain.

We can't transport her
until she clears it.

DETMER: She'll soon
exhibit symptoms

of acute
radiation syndrome.

CONNOR: She's not gonna
last much longer.

Hang on.

:
...Shenzhou, please respond.

JANUZZI: Commander Burnham?

Commander, please respond.

Control to Commander Burnham.

Commander, do you read?

Please respond.

(others should Klingon phrase
in unison)

TESTING COMPUTER:
Pupil Burnham.

Pupil Burnham.

CHILD:
...14 solar years.

TESTING COMPUTER:
Klingon social order rests upon?

Inviolable honor/shame dynamic.

Correct.
Klingon homeworld Qo'noS.

Unwelcoming to the Federation.

Correct.
Klingon political order.

24 great houses.

Correct. Location of the most
recent Klingon terror raid.

Unacceptable duration between
query and correct response.

Number of survivors at
the Human-Vulcan science outpost

at Doctari Alpha.

Unacceptable duration between
query and correct response.

Number of survivors
at Doctari Alpha.

No.

Unacceptable response.

Number of survivors...
Please.

Stop!

Program paused.

Sarek.

I'm sorry.

I can do better.

When emotion brings us ghosts
from the past,

only logic can root us
in the present.

Maybe I can try to learn Vulcan.

To be quicker with my answers.

Your human tongue
is not the problem.

It is your human heart.

MAN :
Good. You're awake.

I was dreaming.

Oh

Klingons.

How did I get here?

We transported you back aboard
three hours ago.

BURNHAM:
Three hours?

COMPUTER: Antiproton
therapy regimen incomplete.

Session terminated prematurely.
Commander,
what are you doing?

There's no time.

Commander, wait.
The recombination process

is nowhere near finished.

I need you back in the
antiproton chamber.

Do you understand the effect
of genetic unspooling?

You don't want to
die that way.

Commander!

DETMER:
The binaries are kicking off

serious QEs
up and down the spectrum.

GANT:
Targeting gets hot, but I still

can't tell
what I'm grabbing onto.

I want to know what's
out there, people.

Okay, let's go around the horn
again, by the numbers.

What's going on?

Number One,
you should be in sickbay.

What...

Have they made contact?

Who's "they"?

There are Klingons out there.

We need to go to red alert.

GEORGIOU:
Michael.

Almost no one has seen a Klingon
in a hundred years.

I have. One attacked
me on that object.

Check my helmet cam.

The footage was corrupted.

SARU:
Internal sensors show that the
commander has entered the bridge

in an irradiated state.

Without immediate treatment,

her condition will
most certainly be terminal.

He was warrior caste.

His-his EV suit bore
a Klingon house insignia.

She also has
a grade-three concussion.
I'm not delusional.

This has nothing to do
with a concussion.

Philippa...

...there are Klingons.

Red alert.

Tell me what happened.
He ambushed me.

I hit my thruster pack
to get away.

I somehow knocked
him into his blade.

I killed him.

But that object could be hiding
a Klingon raiding party,

obscured behind that
scattering field.

GEORGIOU: If there are Klingons
in this sector,

they may be responsible for
the damage to our relay.

If there are Klingons
in this sector,

we should withdraw immediately.

This is Federation space.

Retreat is not an option.

Whatever is over there

needs to show itself.

If it's hiding Klingons,
we've got to flush them out.

Target phase cannons
on the object.

We cannot destroy another
culture's property on a whim.

I didn't say anything
about destroying it.

Let's make them think
we're going to attack.

Target the object.

GANT:
We're locked on.

Something is scanning us.

They've detected our
weapons signature.

Wait.

:
Impossible.

CONNOR: No warp signatures
detected, Captain.

GEORGIOU: Then where
did they come from?

Mr. Gant, disengage
phase-cannon targeting.

Number One,
get to sickbay.

I need you fixed up and
back on the bridge, stat.

Mr. Januzzi,
contact Starfleet Command.

Send an encoded message.

Tell them we have
engaged the Klingons.

JANUZZI:
Unidentified Klingon vessel,

this is the Federation Starship
Shenzhou.

Please respond.

Unidentified Klingon vessel,

this is the Federation Starship
Shenzhou. Please respond.

*

JANUZZI:
Unidentified Klingon vessel,

this is the Federation Starship
Shenzhou. Please respond.

Unidentified Klingon vessel,

this is the Federation
Starship Shenzhou.

Please respond.

Is there any chance
they can't hear us?

You're transmitting on every
subspace channel there is.

Your orders,
Commander?

Any response?

None.

Commander, there is something

I'd like to show you.

Their hull is covered in hollow,
ornamental, metallic pods,

thousands of them,
tightly interlocked,

forming a kind of... armor.

Not the most
efficient defense.

I suspect its purpose is
more symbolic than practical.

They contain Klingon
biological material

in various
states of decay.

Remote dating is
wildly divergent.

Some bones date back
thousands of years,

others only hours old.

Their entire ship
is covered with coffins.

Commander, the captain
listens to you.

Tell her.

We must withdraw.

I'm afraid
that's no longer possible.

Your world has food chains.

Mine does not.

Our species map is binary.

We are either predator or prey.

My people were hunted.

Bred. Farmed.

We are your livestock of old.

We were biologically determined
for one purpose

and one purpose alone:

to sense the coming of death.

I sense it coming now.

GEORGIOU:
The Klingon flagship
has a stealth mode.

It's some kind
of cloaking screen,

unlike anything
we've ever seen, Admiral.

There may be more vessels
out there than we know.

We've reached out
with every form

of friendship greeting
Starfleet has.

They're blocking our hails.

Uh, it feels like a setup.

Maybe our relay got too
close for Klingon comfort,

and they destroyed it
to lure us out here.

You remember my first officer

Michael Burnham?

Next time, you might
try not disturbing

the property of
a warrior race

we've hardly spoken to
for a hundred years.

Our only choice now is to
navigate this situation

with as much finesse
as possible.

Admiral, if I may.

The ideal outcome for any
Klingon interaction is battle.

They're relentlessly hostile,
sir.

It's in their nature.

The Federation
and the Klingon Empire

have always been on
the cold side of war.

We've had only fleeting run-ins
with them for a century.

And now you presume

to know their motivation

because it is
"in their nature"?

Considering your background,
I would think

you're the last person to make
assumptions based on race.

With respect, it would be unwise
to confuse race and culture.

The Euro and all
fleet vessels within range

will be at your
coordinates in two hours.

Hold your position.

Do nothing absent
provocation, understood?

Understood, Admiral.

COMPUTER:
Signal terminated.

That went well.

What's the mood outside?

Saru is the only one talking.

He strongly believes
we should about-face.

There is a space station
at Eagle-Twelve,

three light-years away.

The Andorian colony at
Gamma-Hydra is six.

Shenzhou is their only line of
defense if the Klingons attack.

Not if... when.

I have to hope
that whatever happens here

can serve as a bridge
between our civilizations.

That's the diplomat
in you talking.

What does the soldier say?

Nothing good.

SARU :
Captain to the bridge.

Status?

Massive photonic activity on
the Klingon object, Captain.

Output is over one billion
lumens per square meter.

CONNOR:
Optical sensors overloading.

GEORGIOU:
Bring plasmatic filters
on line.

CONNOR:
Rerouting power.

GEORGIOU:
Is that a weapon?

It seems to be some sort of
signal emitter.

Where are my filters?

CONNOR: They're at
100%, Captain.

(high-pitched sound
growing louder)

CONNOR:
Initiating emergency shutdown.

That noise is some kind of

electromagnetic
subspace wave-form.

Narrowing channel range.

Adjusting orientation
to minimize dispersal.

Somebody turn it down.

Aye, Captain.

All the way down.
SARU:
Acoustics are muted.

That's the ship's superstructure
in sympathetic vibration.

It's a signal pulse.

Is there a message?

This may be the message.

Captain, what if they're calling
for the same thing we are?

Backup.

Long-range sensors
to the maximum, Saru.

If more Klingons
are on their way,

I want as much
notice as possible.

Permission to leave
the bridge, Captain?

Are you kidding?
It's relevant.

Granted.

Ensign, get me
a status report, deck by deck.

Aye, Captain.

Computer.

COMPUTER:
Working.

Open dedicated subspace channel
222AA7.

COMPUTER:
Use of this frequency requires

diplomatic authorization.
Voiceprint authorize.

Burnham... Michael.

COMPUTER:
Confirmed.

Commander Burnham.

Hello, Sarek.

I'm happy to see you.

So many years.

And still you allow
emotional considerations

to impede your logic.

They inform my logic.

I need your help.

I assume the timing of the
call was not coincidental.

The quadrant reports
a new star in the sky.

What have you done out there, on
the edge of Federation space?

We've encountered the Klingons.

How rare to meet one's own
demons in the flesh.

I killed one.

In light of the fact that
they killed your parents,

some might think
that only fair.

However,

if a death was necessary,

I am satisfied
it was not yours.

I'm most certain you did not
call me for emotional solace.

We're facing off.

No fire has been exchanged.

But they didn't turn on
that beacon

until Starfleet was on its way
to our position.

I think they're summoning
more of their kind.

An odd proposition
given that their empire

has been in disarray
for generations.

But you are describing something
out of the ordinary.

Restraint in the face
of conflict.

When a civilization acts in
opposition to its instincts,

it may be under the influence
of something, or someone, new.

Great unifiers are few
and far between,

but they do come.

Often, such leaders will need
a profound cause

for their followers
to rally around.

A war.

Be very careful
that your assumptions

are not being driven
by your past.

This isn't about what happened,
Sarek.

It's what's happening now.

How did the Vulcans achieve
diplomatic relations

with the Klingons?

That is a solution
particular to us.

One cannot assume it would work
on a ship commanded by humans.

Sarek... please.

I caution you, be considered

with how you use
this information.

You cannot save lives that have
already been lost.

Tell me.

How did you keep the Klingons
at bay?

GEORGIOU:
Engineering, report.

Internal damage, negative.

Core is 100%.

Captain, we have
to fire on them.

Hit that ship
with everything we've got.

GEORGIOU: Absolutely not.
They haven't powered weapons.

They don't appear to
pose an imminent threat.

The Klingon threat is always
imminent and inevitable.

Tactical log's ready.
Thank you, Mr. Gant.

I'd like to remind you,
we're wildly outgunned.

240 years ago, near H'Atoria,

a Vulcan ship crossed
into Klingon space.

The Klingons
attacked immediately.

They destroyed the vessel.

Vulcans don't make
the same mistake twice.

From then on, until formal
relations were established,

whenever the Vulcans
crossed paths with Klingons,

the Vulcans fired first.

They said "hello" in a language
the Klingons understood.

Violence brought respect.

Respect brought peace.

Captain. We have to give the
Klingons a Vulcan "hello."

If their intention
is to attack,

balling up our fists
won't dissuade them.

It would be logical for you
to take into account

my success rate during our
seven years together,

and execute my plan
without further challenge

before we're dragged into war.

Starfleet doesn't fire first.

That's all, Number One.

We have to.

In my ready room. Now.

Lieutenant Commander,
you have the bridge.

SARU:
Yes, Captain.

Computer, privacy.

Captain...

How dare you challenge me?

I apologize for my
insubordination.

Don't you realize that kind of
talk can destabilize a crew?

Don't underestimate them.

I've overseen
their exercises;

they're ready for battle.

Battle is not a simulation.

It's blood and screams
and funerals.

I taught you better
than this.

We don't start shooting
on a hunch,

and we don't take
innocent lives. Period.

I understand your history
with the Klingons.

My commitment to
this course of action

is not emotional.

We target its neck,
cut off its head...

You're still injured.

You're not thinking clearly...
Thousands of lives

will be lost because
of failure to act.
Whose lives?

Victims of your imaginary war?

And your life, Captain.

Yours.

Stand down, Commander Burnham.

That's an order.

You're right.

I may not be myself.

Easy, Michael.

I'm sorry.

You're relieved, Mr. Saru.

Where is the captain?

I provided her
with Klingon intel

from a personal source
on Vulcan.

She's passing it to the admiral.

Weapons, slot a pair of
photon torpedoes in the tubes

and compute a firing solution

targeting the neck
of that Klingon ship.

SARU:
Is the plan to fire on the
Klingons, Commander?

We have to be ready in case
that's what the captain decides.

Are you acting on
the captain's orders?

I'm your superior officer.

We are in a high-risk scenario.

Question chain of command again
and I'll remove you.

Commander. It's just...

Your breathing is elevated.

Perspiration's visible
at your hairline.

I fear what you are doing

betrays the wishes
of our captain.

Target phasers.

Take your station,
Commander.

This is mutiny.

Move, Saru.
Tactical.

GANT:
We're locked on.

Fire!

GEORGIOU:
Belay that order!

Captain, please.

I'm trying to save you.

I'm trying to save all of you.

Stand down.

Captain! Incoming!

Warp signatures detected.

Is it Starfleet?

No.

Those ships are Klingon.

*

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