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She's back! She's home!

Philippa came home!

Two years,

and everything looks
exactly as I remember.

I never thought
I would see this place again.

There were 18 of us this time.

Culled from every corner
of the Empire

and brought to Terra
for the contest.

We were told that
only one of us would survive

the years to come.

One child...

...the purest expression
of the Terran identity.

They pitted us
against each other.

And month by month,
our numbers dwindled.

Did... did you win?

Is it over?

Two of us still live.

San and me.

Me and San.

We are two...

...but one.

Forever.

The word "friend" was forbidden
during the contest,

but we whispered it to each
other when no one could hear.

San and I combined our skills

against the proctor
and the other contestants.

But only one of you
could be emperor.

One task remains.

The first to complete it
rules the Empire,

and the other spends
the rest of their life

in servitude to the new emperor.

What do you have to do?

I'm sorry.

What did you do?!

"No ties to the old life
are permitted.

"An emperor can only be
loyal to duty.

"Thus does the Empire
remain strong.

Thus does it grow."

- Mom.
- Philippa.

You succeeded where
your competitor could not.

Bring him here.

San did not have the strength
to pass the final test.

Even now, his village burns
as a testament to his cowardice.

I love you.

You have won the contest.

Claim your victory.

San, step forward.

You live now only to serve
at her heel.

Kneel before the one
who owns your life.

We are two...

But one.

Not anymore.

All hail Philippa Georgiou!

All hail the emperor!

Hail! Hail! Hail!

Hail!

This is Control

with a priority message
for Alpha Team Leader.

Your subject is
Emperor Philippa Georgiou,

former ruler
of the Terran Empire.

It's in a parallel universe

with the most criminal
population

in recorded history.

Even there, Georgiou had the
market cornered on atrocities.

In 2257, she was brought
to our universe

and joined Section 31,

but after a few years,
we lost contact.

Recently, Georgiou was spotted
using an alias

in the border territory
outside Federation space,

where we're tracking a new
threat on the black market.

This is where
your team comes in.

Federation treaty forbids us
from crossing over that border,

which means Starfleet cannot
get its hands dirty.

You and your 31 team will go in,
make contact with Georgiou

to help identify
and neutralize the threat.

But make no mistake...

this dog bites,
so watch your backs.

You have 24 hours
to complete the mission.

Get to work.

Madame du Franc?

Small incident in
the honeymoon suite.

I'm afraid the bride molted

just as things were
coming to a climax.

Virgil,
get to the point.

I sent a biohazard team
and your condolences.

Also, there's a customer
hoping for a word with you.

He seems entirely sober
but quite intoxicating.

Madame Veronique du Franc
will see you.

Alok Sahar,
Madame Veronique du Franc.

Madame du Franc normally
does business by appointment.

I'd like to make an appointment.

Oh, the gentleman would like
to make an appointment.

- Now.
- Now, madame.

- Impossible.
- Impossible.

Mmm.

Mmm.

Au revoir, Virgil.

Mm-hmm.

That is illegal.

And that makes money.

This is a reputable
establishment.

Not what I heard.

- Why don't we discuss it
in your office?
- Hmm.

Why would I take you
to my office, Alok Sahar?

Because it's
a hands-on experience.

♪ Everywhere I go ♪

♪ Everybody knows... ♪

Dulcet thistle.

Dulcet thistle's extinct.

I've got a dozen keys
of this stuff.

Have you partaken?

This would be
one of my few first times.

Packs a punch.

- A happy punch.
- Mmm.

Bottoms up.

- To money.
- To you.

Mmm.

Now, let's cut the shit.

What is Section 31 doing
in my space station?

Hmm? You think I don't know
an agent when I see one?

You're heading up a team
of six operatives,

and they're all over the bar.

There's the Chameloid,

a green-blooded shape-shifter,

trying to muster sexy time
with a Deltan,

a walking honey trap

31's obviously using
as a distraction.

Except Chameloids are
the only species in the galaxy

immune to
Deltan sexy time charm.

Then there's the guy
with all the high-end mech,

standing in the back,
looking like he has thoughts.

Mech life, it ain't
just about the brute force.

I'm gonna say heavy
on artillery, low on IQ.

I'm so sorry.

And we can't forget the Vulcan,

laughing way too hard
at the stage banter.

And since Vulcans never laugh,
he's either an idiot, too,

or lost his mind during pon farr
and went insane.

Oh, come on. That was funny.

And the very serious human
you stuck him with...

Reel it in anytime.

...she's got a stick
so far up her backside,

it's coming out her mouth.

Just reel it in.

That would be

- Lieutenant Garrett.
- Mmm.

Starfleet.

Where fun goes to die.

It took you long enough
to find me.

We knew that having you here
on the Baraam

would be valuable to us one day.

Well, I'm not feeling motivated
to be valuable

to anyone but myself.

♪ Say yes tonight ♪

♪ Say yes to everything... ♪

So, is this where
we start negotiating?

Hmm, that depends.

How long have you known
about me?

Ever since you took over
from the previous owner,

who we still haven't found.

Well, all of.

- That wasn't me.
- Emperor Georgiou,

I am authorized to arrest you

and wipe your mind clean.

But then again,
there's a part of me

that wants you to live
with your memories.

The genocidal ones.

Being authorized to arrest me

isn't the same
as being able to arrest me.

You really want Section 31--
want me--

dogging you
until the end of time?

Boring.

The past always
catches up with you.

And as much as both of us

might hate it,
I'm doing you a favor.

One last mission.

Listen.

Do you believe in fate?

Because I do.

You can't hide from it.

You're nothing here, Georgiou.

I'm giving you a chance
to get back in.

In on the action
on a galactic scale.

Stop running from it.

Be who you are.

Or stay and tend bar
for eternity.

Let's get on with it.

Philippa Georgiou, meet my team.

This is Melle.

Zeph.

You look like
a Swiss Army knife.

Uh, hold on.

I don't know what that means,
but I'm not gonna

just stand here
and get insulted.

I'm not talking about you.

I'm talking about your suit.

Um, you're new,

so I'm gonna just explain
this one time

that when you are
talking about the suit,

you're talking about Zeph.

- Oh.
- Zeph suffers from

what we call mecha dysmorphia.

And I may not know what that is,

but I'm also not gonna take that

from you, Quas,
and personally I'm offended.

- I think you should know...
- Well, it's accurate.

It's not a diagnosis.
You're not a doctor.

Zeph. Zeph, Zeph!

- He knows. He knows. He knows.
- Okay, fine.

He knows.

- He gets it. He gets it.
- Yes.

Okay, what about that Vulcan?

Nobody told her?

This?
The thing you're talking to?

The Vulcan's just a machine.

I'm inside.

Driving.

I control the body
from a backup vehicle.

Yeah, something I use
to get into tight spots.

Hi there.

I'm Fuzz.

Fuzz is a Nanokin.

Real fun-loving guy.

Hello.

Except for when he's not.

Then he's deranged with
an anger management problem.

Well, you could've stopped
at the first thing, Quasi.

A bootleg Vulcan conveyance?

You must see cool stuff
on the black market.

Nanokins are pretty scavengery.

31 made first contact when

we discovered an infestation
on a derelict ship.

- Quasi.
- Oh, shit.

Say "infestation"
one more time, Quasi.

Say "scavenger,"
you sack of amorphous soot!

I-I s-- I heard it
as soon as I said it.

I will kick your ass

until you cannot form
a solid mass of...

Fuzz. Fuzz. Lock it down.

I am locked down.

I'm trapped inside
a giant robot Vulcan head.

No one is more locked down
than me right now!

Nanokins have
a wonky emotional spectrum.

No, no, no, no, no, no,
I will not

be condescended to, Melle,

particularly not by you,
because honest...

I love you. You are everything.

- Does my spectrum work for you?
- Fuzz.

- I mean, like, like,
are you into it or...
- Fuzz!

Fuzz!

She's insulting you, pal.

I know Deltans are gonna do
their Deltan thing,

but have a little self-respect,
would you?

Can we continue?

And that's
Lieutenant Rachel Garrett.

She is detailed to Section 31
for this one mission only.

Who did you piss off to get
stuck in black ops, Lieutenant?

Starfleet is here to make sure
we color inside the lines.

Starfleet is here
to defend the Federation,

keep the peace and make sure
no one commits murder.

- And you?
- One moment.

Quasi came on my radar

when he proved the existence
of glioclusters.

Glioclusters are theoretical.

Formerly theoretical.

Life is just
branching possibilities.

You know, they bloom and blossom
any way you can imagine.

For example, I could be
intimidated by you right now.

I mean, after all,
you've murdered

so many people...

and you seem to be staring
right into my soul.

I could respond to that

or I could observe my feelings
right now,

lock it away
and do what I need to do.

- Or...
- Quas. Pick one. Hmm?

- Yes.
- Sometimes Quasi sees

- so many options
he gets brain-freeze.
- Thank you, Melle.

- Quasi, can we carry on, please?
- Mm-hmm.

Our target's name is Dada Noe.

Dubious moral compass.

Ran a pathology lab on the Watt
Colonies before he went rogue.

Since then, he's been
designing bioweapons on spec.

Noe's on his way to the Baraam
to sell his latest creation

to the Minosian High Council.

There are no formal hostilities
with the Minosian Sway,

but that could change
if they get their hands

on a superweapon.

Do we know what
this bio superweapon is?

No, but if Dada Noe is
selling it, it's bad.

So you're here to make sure
the sale never happens.

How?

Things went south
when you spotted us,

but the plan is still solid.

First, Alok was going to...

You can say it.

Connect.

With you.

- Welcome! Mmm.
- Yes.

What a cute idea.

Once we had you
suitably distracted,

Quasi would do
the other thing Quasi does.

Okay, Quasi.

- If you would do the honors.
- Absolutely.

Let's get to work.

Welcome, Dada Noe.

This is where Fuzz comes in.

You wouldn't believe
the tiny spots I can get into.

For example, the inner workings
of body modifications.

Oh, once I fly inside
Dada's body mod,

well, then it's time
to get to work.

So many circuits.

So many things
that could go wrong.

Competency crusader here
will talk me through

the tech on the implant.

And if I think we're putting
Dada Noe's life in danger

by tinkering with that implant,

I will unleash
the full weight of Starfleet

on this whole operation.

Oy, we're talking about a bloke
who's selling superweapons

to any third-rate terrorist
with a Latinum card.

Listen carefully, Junkyard.

Starfleet does not do
assassinations.

Ay, don't get your
prime directives in a bunch.

You are not going to get
your hands dirty

and mess up your chances
of becoming captain.

I'm a top-tier science officer.

- Butt pretzel.
- Tight-ass.

So disrespectful.

Soon as Garrett and Fuzz
sever that link...

...he'll be under our control,
and I'll take him down

- with the help of Zeph.
- Mm.

- That's what I call a hit.
- One.

Dada Noe and his pathogen
will be in custody

before the buyers can even
show up to the Baraam.

And we are in and out.

Mm. Meh.

Meh?

I have a simpler idea.

♪ Desperate, I can tell ♪

♪ All that begging ♪

♪ Suits you well. ♪

♪ Blowing up my phone now ♪

♪ Going up, you bow down ♪

♪ Look at who needs who... ♪

Welcome, Monsieur Dada Noe.

We're honored to have you here
at the Baraam.

I am Veronique du Franc,
the proprietor.

I told them to have
my suite ready.

Mais oui, monsieur.

May I escort you
to your quarters?

Come.

We have the most exquisite...

I can't believe
you're trusting this sociopath.

Well, Lieutenant,

you got to do
what you got to do,

and I'm kind of familiar
with sociopaths.

I said don't bring me.

I trust your trip
was without incident, monsieur.

Well, your people made
everything easy.

Our pleasure. Here we are.

So tacky.

But I guess that's
what you're known for.

What's this?

It's called a phase pod.

A client of mine
gave it to me as a gift,

and I got one for myself, too.

What are you doing?

Everything in the universe
vibrates

on a certain wavelength.

Damn it.

Give me back my case.

No.

That's coming out of
your security deposit.

The phase pod changes
the wavelength

of whatever they touch.

I am out of phase with you,
and you're out of phase with me.

I am, however, in phase
with your case.

And I will be taking it with me.

You have no idea
what you've started.

Whoopsie.

Impressive.

Are you sure you're human?

Most days.

Thank you.

Give me the case.

Who are you?

He went that way. That way,
that way, that way, that way!

Oh, aliens.

- Naked aliens.
- Go, Zeph, go.

He's headed to the lounge.
Man, they're moving fast.

Melle, he's coming to you.

Yikes.

No, it's okay.

- I'm all right.
- Melle, you got him?

Got him.

Ooh-la-la!

Ay, amor.

That's not possible.

I had that destroyed.

No. No!

It's not possible.

You knew that weapon.

What is it?

What is it?

Fine. The hard way.

The Eternal Supplicant
begs approach.

You have my permission.

All hail
Her Most Imperial Majesty,

Mother of the Fatherland,

- Overlord of Vulc--
- What is it?

It is finished, Your Majesty.

Where are my engineers?

They... they took
their own lives upon completion.

Who is the tear for, San?

Speak.

It is for you, Majesty.

It is all...

...for you.

I asked you a question, San.

Why do you cry for me?

Look at me.

Do you remember who we were?

Before all this.

The curious boy.

The innocent girl.

I only remember
my failure, Majesty.

Don't lie to me.

We were the only ones
who could understand

the cost to stay alive.

We made a team.

We needed each other, didn't we?

What did we say
to carry each other through,

to survive together?

We are two...

But one.

We are two but one.

If I said then,

"Let's run away,

"let's flee this competition

and everything
that binds us to Terra,"

what would you have said?

Hmm?

The timing of your question
is more poetic than you know.

I would have said yes.

Then.

But now?

You could have made something
beautiful with your reign.

Instead, you chose
to build this.

That means
that innocent girl I knew,

she has been...

...murdered.

What is this?

You...

You took the same poison?

No! I forbid you to die!

No one wants to live

in your world, Emperor.

You are a monster!

And what delightful place
is this?

A safe house.

But maybe not so safe for you.

You are Section 31.

Why aren't you
torturing answers out of me?

You're a tyrant.

A real one.

Torture wouldn't work.

How do you know so much
about people like me?

Hmm?

You learned tyranny somewhere,
and you learned hard.

If you have to hide it,
that's a weakness.

And I can't have that
in a partner.

- We're not partners.
- No?

I've been very helpful.

You had a plan
that couldn't work.

I gave you a better one.

You gave me
a taste of the action,

knowing I'd want more.

You need me.

You chose me.

Why?

Whatever you believed
your mission was,

it's worse than you thought.

Billions of lives are at stake,
and time is short.

Tell me you,
and I will tell you me.

The only way this works
is if I know

exactly who I'm dealing with.

I'm not from this time, either.

I was born on Earth,
20th century.

You are 350 years old?

More or less.

I slept most of that time.

After my exile.

The Eugenics Wars.

Augments...

took my planet.

My home.

There was maybe ten of us
who fought.

Everyone I knew
either took a bullet or a blade.

But I gave some back.

She noticed me.

The Augment
who slaughtered my family.

They called her Giri the Marked.

She took me in.

Made me stronger than
any human should be.

She ripped me apart

and turned me into
another Augment for her army.

And I did terrible things.

All for a monster like you.

Because for tyrants,
there is only one choice:

murder.

You haven't killed me.

Yet.

I recognized the weapon because
I ordered it to be built.

Gather your people.

We're gonna need
every one of them.

In my universe,
there were always plotters.

Always a coup.

So I built a weapon
to end all threats.

I called it the Godsend.

It triggers a chain reaction,

like a virus passing
between planets.

Everything in its path
incinerates.

An entire quadrant
would be lost.

If my enemies managed
to kill me,

there would be
nothing left to rule.

Yeah, hi. Quick question.

Sorry.

Yeah, no. Uh, just a qu--
it's just a quick one.

Is it Godsend or God's End?

Godsend or God's End?

I don't hear a difference
in what you're saying.

Really? Really?
Godsend. God's End.

- Yeah, I'm still not getting it.
- The Godsend is...

Wait, Godsend. I hear it now.

- It's Godsend. No apostrophe.
- Send.

The Godsend is here.

How? It's from another universe.

I don't know,
but that man had it.

The one that you think
is Dada Noe.

The one we know is Dada Noe.

No, he's not your Dada Noe.
He can't be.

He's from the Terran Empire,
and he brought the Godsend here.

That's the only way
he can know about it.

And since we have him
locked up tight,

- I'll interrogate him.
- No, no, no.

- We cannot trust
a single word this woman says.
- Yeah.

She cost us Melle.

She's the only one who knows
what we're dealing with.

Yeah, well, so she says,
little bro.

Little?

Scale-shamer!

Microbes outlasted dinosaurs!

Calm your boots.
What I'm saying is...

I will piss in your suit
until you go all rusty like!

...that she's the reason
this is all bollixed up.

She's the reason Melle's dead,
and she's the reason

we're in the ass end
of the galaxy.

Listen up.

Georgiou and I are
gonna go back to the ship.

Dada Noe is our only link
to the Godsend,

so we're gonna have
a little chat with him.

What?

Her name is Philippa Georgiou,

Her Most Imperial Majesty.

Mother of the Fatherland.

Overlord of Vulcan.

Dominus of Qo'noS, Regina Andor,

Philippa Georgiou
Augustus Iaponius Centarius.

Cool.

That come with fries?

That was good, right?

Okay.

Every time you don't answer
her questions directly,

Her Majesty will punch you
in your face.

Fine.

I'm Dada.

Dada Noe. Just Dada, then Noe.

That's it. No in-betweens.

And I, uh...

I used to run a pathology lab
in the Watt Colonies.

What the shit, man?!

You said that she was gonna be
doing the face punching!

So now we both have lied.
You are not that Dada.

You're what these people call
his Mirror.

You came here
from the Terran Empire,

and you brought the Godsend.

What's the Godsend?

My own war council
tried to depose me.

Do you know how I convinced
the field marshal to talk?

Hmm?

I was an administrator

at an Imperial weapons facility
on Terra.

Uh, yeah.

The Godsend was stored
at my facility.

Most thought it was a legend,
but I knew it was real.

So you tried to sell it.

Yeah, yeah.

I wanted to live here quietly
on its proceeds.

How did you get to our universe?

Hmm?

There was an ion storm.

Two of them, actually.

And when they converged,
which they do like clockwork,

they ripped something open
on the fringes of the Empire--

an anomaly, they called it--
but it was a passageway

to get to this place
from the Terran Empire.

Comes out through
your Crescent Nebula.

Few know about it. For now.

But it'll open again
in four hours.

That's when I was supposed to be
meeting my buyer.

Are you aware of
what that weapon does?

The Terran Empire's burned
through its resources.

There's famine.

Entire ecologies are collapsing.

They need to find
a new territory

to conquer and strip-mine.

When they realize that
their superweapon is gone,

they're gonna find
that passageway--

you know they will--
and they'll come

and they'll burn everything
they touch and enslave the rest,

because that's
what the Empire does, Majesty.

They learned well from you.

Who else wants it?

I-I don't know, man.

I got an offer.
The money was real.

Someone stole the Godsend
from us.

- Who was he?
- No idea.

Whoever broke into my room,
whoever stole that weapon,

they know what they know
because they learned it

from one of you.

Emergency transporter.

Well, this is great.

Oh, even better.

- Is that... is that the ship?
- Is the ship gone?

I liked that ship.

What happened?

Sabotage.

What?

Whoever stole the Godsend
had a partner.

It was someone here.

Which means one of us is a mole.

- Could be you.
- Could be you.

If it were me,

I would have murdered
all of you already.

Look, boss, if there's a mole,
you know it's not me.

I mean, that sounds
pretty moley to me.

I don't know.

We've been on
like ten ops together.

Yeah, and I still don't even
know what you look like, do I?

No one knows
what a Chameloid looks like.

- You might change
into anything you want.
- What about Fuzz, huh?

- He exists on a whole other
scale than anybody else.
- Mm, deflecting?

My wife is about to lay
our first litter of egg sacs.

- No, I have 190,000 hatchlings
on the way...
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

- ...and I want them to live.
- Well, look,

you could find
a motive for any of us.

Or it could be a combination
of any of you.

You know, like-like Zeph
and-and Fuzz or...

You are spinning out
without Melle.

You cannot land on a choice.

Maybe you're putting that in
my head because you're the mole.

Huh? How about Garrett?
She's new.

She doesn't care about us.

I'm Starfleet.

Whoa. Anyone else feel
that heroic breeze right there

ruffling her cape?

Okay, there's an old ship
out there,

an old garbage scow.

Yeah, I found it
when you were up there

interrogating metal head.

Must be years
since anyone flew it,

but I think we can work with it

to go after
whoever took the Godsend.

Mm. I dislike you less.

Aw.

If I wanted someone to like me,
I'd get a dog.

I like order.

I like prediction
and conclusion.

Then you're on the wrong team
because we've got mole,

stranded on a dead planet,

no communication
with the outside,

and less than four hours before
the Terrans get the Godsend

and use it
anywhere in the galaxy.

Speaking of which, Quas,
what about the antenna array?

Uh, well...

Well, it's a couple decades
out of date.

We get it up and running,
then we tell 31 what's coming.

We work together.

- Everyone stays in sight.
- Yeah.

Just...

Let's go.

Well, there goes that idea.

Our little mole
has been really busy.

Ripped up all the wiring.

Two teams.
I'll lead one into the woods.

Three to see if we can
salvage that scow.

You stay here with the others

and try and fix
the antenna array.

Why is she giving us orders now?

Because I'm letting her

and I'm pretty certain
she's not the mole.

You wouldn't bet on a horse
named Pretty Certain.

Quas, Fuzz, you get to the scow
right away with Georgiou.

Zeph and Garrett,
you stay here with me.

We'll take care of
the antenna array.

Uh, I'm sorry.

I'm supposed to go
out into the woods

with two people
who want to kill me?

Just stay in sight of each other
and don't get dead.

Okay?

Yep, thanks, Cap.

I mean, just fifty-fifty shot
one of them wants to kill me,

- and then 25%...
- Quas, just get your ass
out there.

I love you, too, Cap.

- All righty.
- Aye, aye.

The internal circuitry
on this old scow

is still in decent shape.

Everything I'm seeing
should work.

So this thing we're chasing,
the Godsend,

your engineers,
did they install a fail-safe?

Can we disable it remotely?

There is no fail-safe.
I wouldn't allow it.

How very on-brand for you.

Can I ask you one more question?

I'm just gonna ask you
one more question.

So you brought the Godsend
into the world

to vaporize
quadrillions of lives.

Never thought that was
a little, you know, much?

I ordered it destroyed.

And someone hid it.
Your own people betrayed you.

Well, your corporate culture
was straight-up shit.

And you didn't answer
my question.

The asymptote coil is gone.

Someone must have scavenged it
for the terbium.

Well, find another one,
this thing should fly.

- Maybe the cargo hull.
- Huh. Oh, no, no.

Everyone stays together,
all right?

Limits the possibilities
of you killing us.

Uh...

Let's go to the cargo hold,
please.

Aren't you coming?

Yes. I couldn't be more excited.

Yeah, I could help you
down there, of course,

but considering how,
you know, control

is central
to your entire identity

and the fact that
I'm just not good at it,

I'm just gonna stand here
and honor our relationship

- by doing absolutely nothing.
- Helpful.

It's called
radical self-acceptance.

- Evolved of you.
- Well, thank you.

So, can you fix it?

I'm not even sure it's broken.
It's just missing a part.

Look, this-this torn wiring
looks dramatic,

but this equipment has
redundancy built in.

There's an easy work-around.

Except somebody ripped out
the theta junction.

Other than that,
this thing should work.

Okay, well,
maybe our mole has it.

- Garrett?
- Yeah.

Zeph.

Where is Zeph?

Zeph, come in.

Zeph, do you copy?

Zeph.

Garrett, was that you?

Garrett, what the hell was that?

Someone just activated
the antenna array.

Damn it.

What's happening?

Garrett, sitrep.

This is going to be good.

Lieutenant, do you copy? Over.

Clear.

Clear.

Nothing here.

How could someone have used this
to send out a signal?

Impossible. It's missing a part.

And someone shot it to hell.

I heard someone running.

Zeph must have put
the theta junction back in.

Then shot it
after he used the array.

So he must have circled back
after he went AWOL.

Zeph came down
to this planet to sabotage us.

And now that we're stranded,

he sent a message
to whoever he's working with.

And he'll lay low
until his ride gets here,

and then he's long gone.

Then we need to find him first.

Observer, do you copy?

Please, Raider One,
when do I not copy?

That's funny. Status?

I'm picking up
a lot of interference,

but the tricorder shows
Zeph's biosignature

was just in this sector. Over.

Copy.
Stay low and tight, people.

The warlord you served, Giri,
what happened to her?

She died like she lived.

By that, you know what I mean.

She was lucky.

She wasn't infected
with a conscience.

- Infected?
- Yeah.

A monster can only be a monster.

A monster with regrets
is useless.

Mm. So that's why
you were hiding

in a bar at the ass end
of nowhere.

Maybe it's why
you're working with 31.

To wipe your slate clean.

There's always a price to pay
for people like us.

You wouldn't be here
if you didn't agree.

Oh, so that's why you chose me.

You think I'm a monster who
feels enough to be controlled

but still do
the real dirty work.

No, I think you want the
Godsend back because you know

it's your one chance
to redeem yourself

for all the shit you've done.

I want the Godsend back
because it's mine.

Ah. Zeph's exoskeleton
is leaking.

Yep, more.

This way.

Blip, Clip,

Grip,

Polio, Influensina,

- Cowpox...
- What are you saying?

I'm reciting the names
of me hatchlings.

Since one of you
is going to murder me,

I'm never gonna meet them,
but at least I can honor them

one by one.

Trip,

Trip 2,

Tonsilyitis, Crimean-Congo
Hemorrhagic Fever...

Are you gonna sob out
190,000 names?

How can you be so cold
and insensitive?

Might he have recorded
what happened?

Sure.

Except the footage was probably
murdered along with him.

We could connect one of
the tricorders to his suit.

Whatever data is left,
we'll know who did this.

You say that like
we're all suspects.

We're not. All right?

Fuzz, me and her were in the
scow when all this happened--

everyone in sight
of everyone else.

And nobody went anywhere, right?

- Right.
- Hmm.

Oh, this is not Zeph's.

Brunette. 25 centimeters.

This is insane.

Stop fidgeting.

I've been in close quarters
with Zeph for a week.

Okay, so you're into
mecha boom-boom.

Lots of humans are. No shame.

Hmm.

Well, that's impossible.

Lieutenant Garrett,

why is Zeph's blood
underneath your fingernails?

Lieutenant Garrett,

evidence from you
was found on Zeph's body,

and evidence from Zeph's body
was found on you.

Not very Starfleet.

Oh, I am very Starfleet.

And you know I didn't do this.

You are just terrified of anyone
with a moral compass.

Mm.

And deep down
in that pure little heart,

you're actually a chaos goblin,
aren't you?

- I know you have it
in you, angel.
- Don't call me that.

Starfleet sniffed you out

and put you in a place
where you'd be most useful.

Section 31 is just the place
for officers who bend the rules,

never quite break them
until they do.

And you fit right in here.

You can torture me all you want.

You will never make me
a murderer.

No.

We've got footage!

Stop!

Stop!

This is my suit.

I am the suit!

The suit is me!

One second.

We were your friends.
We were your friends.

You can't kill me.

- Zeph, no.
- You can't kill...

Zeph killed himself?

Why would he do that?

Sorry to disappoint you,
Your Majesty.

Look, none of this
is making any sense.

No, none of it
makes a lick of sense.

Why would he do this? Uh...

- Give me a couple minutes to...
- We don't have minutes.

Well, then give me
a couple seconds, then.

Uh...

- Could be you.
- Could be you.

And I still don't even know
what you look like.

You could change into
anything you want.

- She's new.
- She doesn't care about us.

- I'm Starfleet.
- Whoa.

When you are talking
about the suit,

you're talking about Zeph.

This isn't Fuzz.

The Vulcan's just a machine,
you know.

I'm inside.

Scale-shamer!

You wouldn't believe
the tiny spots I can get into.

For example, the inner workings
of body modifications.

There's an autopilot.

That's the only thing
that makes sense.

You set the Vulcan machine
on autopilot.

That's why its responses
were so strange.

- Aren't you coming?
- Yes.

You flew into
Zeph's exoskeleton.

And once you were inside...

Somebody ripped out
the theta junction.

Garrett, where's Zeph?

Then you took control
of Zeph's suit.

While the others were out
looking for him,

you made him sneak back
into the antenna array

and send those messages.

Don't do this to them!

We were your friends.

Then you destroyed the evidence.

And you killed Zeph.

And then you planted
the evidence on Garrett here.

Hands up, Fuzz.

Oh, shite and ever shite.

Whoa. You're honestly gonna
believe what she says, Alok?

Quasi, after everything
we've been through?

C-Can I just say
one thing first?

I'm still hacked into
Zeph's exoskeleton.

Come on!

What happened to
"no crew member left behind"?

Oh.

Come on, come on!

Get us closer.

I got you. I got you.

- Nice and easy.
- Damn.

You keep tabs
on the black market, hmm?

And that's where you heard
about the Godsend.

Why do you care?

You killed your family.

What's a few billion
more people, huh?

Where is it?
And who are you working with?

You took your crown
while they died in agony

not ten feet away.

You condemned
your only friend to slavery,

and then you had the balls to
offer him kindness at the end?

How could you know that?

Glad you're catching on.

He played you, Emperor.

San's alive.

It's not possible.

That's not possible. How?

He built up an immunity
from that poison, you know.

Teeny tiny doses over time.

Once again, small shite
for the win, mama.

Where is he?!

He's gonna put on
quite the show.

You built the Godsend.

You made this monster.

This is all you.

Be careful, all right?

I said be careful.

I have to get around in that.

You can afford
a hundred of them now.

Oh, great.

I'd settle for one that works.

So that's it?

The almighty Godsend.

When you're emperor,

maybe start by naming it
something less confusing.

Once that passageway opens up,

he contacts the Terrans,
they come through.

They're detonating it here.

And he'd be
the darling of the Empire.

So he throws the Federation
into chaos...

Starfleet will start scrambling.

Perfect time to invade.

You gave birth to this thing.

- How do we stop it?
- We don't.

We're trapped here,
so we can't follow him.

The antenna's destroyed,
so we can't warn anybody.

That is bullshit.

- You can do better than that.
- I can't.

The Godsend is me.

I'm the only one
I could never defeat.

The past always
catches up with you.

Right?

Doesn't mean it always wins.

Every safe house,
I have a backup plan.

We'll get that scow running.

Boss, the scow won't fly.

Not without an asymptote coil.

We have one.

We'll catch up with San.

We'll make sure
he can't contact the Terrans.

You ripped out the coil.

Couldn't tell you while
a mole was still running around.

Asshole.

Okay, Quas, give her a rip.

Still just one pulse.

And we're in business.

Okay, team, we have
less than 30 minutes.

Quas, set a course
for the Crescent Nebula.

All right, this is gonna be
bumpy and bad.

I'm assuming
San's ship will be armed.

Yeah, every Terran ship's armed.

He'll have
proton cannons, torpedoes,

and we are a garbage barge.

Why are you laughing?

Because I can't imagine
things getting much worse.

Let's go.

So, this thing flies around in
the middle of a tractor field.

People jettison their garbage
into space,

and the scow flies around
and drags the trash

along with the field.

Once the tractor field is full,

it dumps the trash in the Nebula

where it disintegrates
in the radiation.

I just want to be clear.

You're saying that
our best potential weapon is

a beam for collecting garbage?

- Yes.
- Great.

Hey, being judgy
never helped anything.

- Where are you going?
- Engineering.

If that's our only weapon,

I'll redirect all power
to the tractor beams.

That's actually a good plan.

We're in position.

The passageway will open soon.

Do you know what I want
when this is all over?

Just a big space, you know,

for me hatchlings to tunnel
and fly around and...

What do you want?

I want Philippa Georgiou
to marinate in her own defeat.

I get you guys are all
"eternal nemesis,

sexy evil tension"
and stuff, but...

Alert.

Incoming vessel.

Collision trajectory detected.

Of course she got it
off the ground.

I say we should use
the torpedoes.

They've picked us up.

Photon torpedo incoming.

- Impact in five, four...
- Really want to take
evasive action right now!

- ...three, two, one.
- Quas, hold the course.
Put everything in our shields.

Why isn't she changing course?

Do I look like a fortune teller?

Do we have enough juice to drag
them with the tractor beam yet?

Yeah, but we can't take
another direct hit.

Incoming torpedo
in five, four...

- Keep it steady.
We're almost there...
- ...three, two, one.

Now.

- Alert.
- Navigation control suspended.

What are they gonna do,
drag us to death?

She's trying to stop me
from reaching the Empire.

Oh.

How's everybody feeling
about this?

It's the only way.

This can work.

The radiation will
wear down their shields.

Yeah, the thing is,
the radiation hits us, too.

Target lock malfunction.

I can't get torpedo lock.
Cannons offline.

San?

San.

San!

Radiation levels critical.

Shields are down.
I repeat, shields are down!

And San's?

His are at 12% and falling fast.

Plasma incoming!

We get caught
with a burst like that,

and we're done.

This is chaos, Garrett.

You know you love it, hmm?

Maybe let it in,
make out with it a little.

It's why Starfleet put you here.

Chaos is my friend
with benefits.

Yeah, Garrett, let's get messy.

- Hmm?
- Okay.

- You got this, Quas.
- Uh-huh.

You ready?

San's shields are
at four percent.

Two now.

His shields are down.

Good to go.

Philippa!

This contest only ends

when one of us is dead!

Detonation sequence activating.

See, the Nanokins,
we don't need the Federation.

We never have.

We ruled before
you behemoths found us,

and we will rule again
after you're gone.

Guess who survives
very large explosions.

Very small things.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I need to cut our ship loose.

Sorry if your friends die
in the process.

No, I'm joking.

I can't wait to kill them.

So long, you big lumps of shite!

Who's flying that?

Uh, according to the sensors,
one tiny life-form on board,

and it's heading right for us.

Plot missile lock.

We have trash, all right?
Just trash.

But one.

San.

Awaiting
biosignature confirmation.

I've got Fuzz's shuttle.

He's heading back to San's ship.

- We're barely keeping up.
- Stay on him.

Uh, we don't have any weapons.

We have a payload bay
full of trash.

Do not lose that shuttle.

Okay.

I was nothing!

That boy was soft, weak.

But all those years under your
heel taught me who I am now.

The Empire's
coming through that portal.

My Empire!

And we will reign
over this universe

with righteous mercy,
not like you!

There are
no benevolent dictators, San.

You taught me that.

We can come back from this.

We can start over.

Oh, I love chaos.

Chaos is my jam.

I love chaos. I love chaos.

Garrett, what the hell
are you doing down there?

Quasi, I am a trained
Starfleet officer

who fully intends on living long
enough to be captain one day.

You got to trust me, okay?

Hi there.

I'm so glad you found me.

What'd you just say?

Uh... uh...

It's a toy.

Looks like it came from
a Droom planet.

Shall we do something fun
together?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

You okay down there, Starfleet?

Whoa.

Oh, come on, come on,
come on, come on. Yes.

Oh, we do not let Droom tech
into the Federation

because they use Terrenium
as a power source.

Oh, you're gonna blow us up,
aren't you?

You better hope
that this ship's hull

is reinforced with Tomohite.

I am a science officer.

And science is
just controlled chaos.

Whoa, chaos, chaos,
chaos, chaos, chaos!

Ah, come on.

Get up, you stupid robot.

No. No.

No!

Stay in front of Fuzz's ship
so we can open the payload bay.

Uh, yeah.

About that.

- Uh, thing is...
- Quasi, there's about to be
a very large explosion.

This console's
in a language I don't know.

I can decipher some of it.

I just have to
break it down to morphemes

- and, you know...
- Large explosion impending.

Either of these two buttons
could open the cargo bay.

Okay, so push them both.

Either of these two buttons
could also

initiate
a self-destruct protocol.

- We're gonna blow up anyway.
- Uh-huh.

- Um, uh.. Huh?
- Quasi. Quasi, look at me.

You just need to make a call.

You know what to do.

- Okay.
- Okay.

Uh...

We can be friends forever...

Do you want to hear
something funny?

I'm on autopilot.

What the hell?

We're all gonna die.

We're all gonna die.

No!

It's wonderful
just to be with you.

- Whoo!
- Whoa!

Yes!

Die now.

Go tell your family
how much you've changed.

San.

No. No.

No.

San.

San.

This is not what I want.

Please.

- I love you.
- I love you.

San.

San.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

You-you-you were right.

I still needed you.

I always needed...

To show me who I am, even now.

Now.

M-M... My emperor.

My love.

No.

We are one.

Forever.

Ion storm convergence imminent.

Passageway is opening.

Biosignature confirmed.

Detonation in 60 seconds.

Computer, target lock
on the passageway.

Target lock confirmed.

If you could go back,

and you were kneeling
in front of Giri,

would you kill her?

Would you put a stop to all
the suffering and smoke forever,

even if it meant
that you had to die?

Yes.

Then I'm glad I knew you,
Alok Sahar.

Detonation in 30 seconds.

Passageway is open.

Sensors show they've activated
impulse engines.

What?

- Yeah.
- You need to
transport them back.

- Yeah. Okay.
- Now.

Okay, okay, okay, okay.

The storm's interfering.
I can't lock on to them.

Detonation in ten seconds.

Come on. Come on!

They're running out of time.

I'm trying.

Detonation in five,

four, three,

two, one.

Lieutenant Garrett?

Rachel?

You all right?

- I'm okay.
- Hmm? You here?

- Yeah. You're alive.
- All right.

Yeah, Quasi got us out.

- There we go. There we are.
- Thank you.

Oh, you did it.

Oh, we won.

Oh. Grow up.

Perkiness is disgusting.

Yeah.

I hear you.

It's happening.

The passageway's collapsing.

There she is.

How was your debrief?

Oh, could've been worse.

They made me an offer.

And?

I'm sitting on it.

You?

Meh. Hmm.

Hmm.

And how long did you think

you could fool me
with this, hmm?

- What gave it away?
- Mm.

You still get nervous
when I look at you.

Oh. Hey, C-Cap.

Leave that poor man alone.

Virgil.

A round of elixirs
for my friends.

- Pleasure, Madame du Franc.
- Mm-hmm.

Lieutenant Garrett.

They let you off the ship.

It's actually Lieutenant
Commander Garrett now.

- Oh.
- Thank you very much.

And if this unit is
gonna be a permanent detail,

then you all
definitely need oversight.

I may slaughter you all
at any moment.

Is that a deal-breaker?

- Nah.
- Whatevs.

It's not like
you need a reason anyway.

It's true. You're a bad bitch.

- With the stare of death.
- Oh, we get it.

You're a terrifying,
soulless murderer

who we can never truly trust.

I love that for us.

Somebody's got to
keep things lively.

- Touché.
- Yes, touché.
- You make a point.

To us.

To us.

This isn't poison, is it?

And now that
you have us all here,

what next?

Well, not quite all.

Ladies and gent, stage left.

You got to be kidding me.

Oh, I'm not Fuzz.

Section 31 bought

two of these conveyances
on the black market.

Name's Wisp. I'm his wife.

And I'm here for
when we catch up with

that lying, double-dealing
son of a bitch.

Uh, well, we blew up
his ship, ma'am.

- Uh, Mrs. Fuzz.
- Oh, honey.

Little things sometimes survive
big explosions.

And when we find him,
I have questions.

- Now, what are we talking about?
- I'm glad you asked.

I was just letting
the team know.

Control has a job for us.

My better judgment has been

screaming at me
for two days now.

It keeps saying that you lot
are gonna cost me my job.

- We might.
- She might.

I told my judgment to shut up

and take a nap.

'Cause we have work to do.

Has anybody been to Turkana IV?

- Whew.
- Wait.

Did you say Turkana
or say Jur-Jurnana?

He thought "Your Mama IV."

Oh, Your Mama IV.

No.