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.
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.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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!
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.
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.
This is not what I want.
Please.
- I love you. - I love you.
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. - ALOK: Yes, touché. - You make a point.
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.