Mayday mayday mayday, this is Commander Kellogg of
I.S.A. Space Station Horizon, (...)
secure transmission (...)
Commander Drake.
Tony, the crew has (...), and we are under (...).
I say again, we are under (...).
Croatoooooan!
- And that, Mrs. Archer... - Ms.
Don't.
- Ahh -- Ms. Archer, I beg your pardon -- - Don't.
-- that was the last transmission from the Horizon.
Which, obviously pretty vague.
Vague?!
You heard Commander Kellogg, he said the Horizon is under attack!
- Well, under something... - He could've been saying underfinanced.
What?
- Sterling -- - What, they're always whining about needing more
money for their boondocks.
Doggles.
What?
You think space exploration is a boondoggle?!
Well c'mon, in this economy?
Exactly!
Now, more than ever, is when we need to look to space
for the solutions to mankind's problems.
In just two hundred years, Earth's population will exceed
her capacity to produce enough food.
And even as the famines begin, global war will erupt as fresh
water becomes scarcer than gold.
But if we begin now, using the lessons learned aboard Space Station Horizon,
a small group of brave colonists, can terraform Mars.
And mankind can finally slip the surly bonds of Earth,
to live forever among the stars!
Yeah, Lana.
Wh-?
Jesus, read a book once in your life.
So where does ISIS fit in, Commander?
- Well -- - Well I think that's a bit premature, until we discuss
our fee structure.
- As to that, you can name your price.
- Oh now they've got -- - Enough!
Commander? As to our role?
Horizon has an international crew.
American, German, Chinese, French-- - Ba-dum-bump!
Sorry, I thought "French"
was a joke - Is mutiny funny to you, Mr. Archer?
- I dunno, maybe a mutiny of clowns... - Because I fear that one
faction, led by radical nationalists, has mutinied.
But who?
Which one?
- Well if I -- - If he knew, he would tell us!
Read a book!
And since I don't know which faction is behind the mutiny --
- If there even was one... - -- I can't trust anyone at the I.S.A.
Which is why I came to ISIS.
Because of our loyalty.
Or lack thereof.
Or whatever.
Because I need a small cadre of highly trained agents
to fly into orbit and help me to retake control of Horizon.
Nooope!
Yeahhhp!
Archer!
Lana!
He just said "highly-trained"!
And last time I checked, none of us were even lowly-trained to be astronauts!
Well how hard could it be?
Incredibly.
- But since apparently money is no object... - The training schedule
will have to be highly compressed, because the shuttle Intrepid is
launching in three days.
And I won't lie to you, this mission will be dangerous.
Would you say we'll be venturing into a zone of danger?
Well yes, obviously.
No, but -- how would you phrase that?
I -- the zone will be one of danger?
No, I mean say -- oh forget it, never mind.
And you never mind and also shut up.
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
Oww!
Jesus Krieger, that's the bone!
Oh, da mean doctor take widdle baby's bwud, and widdle baby goes --
owww!
You're a baby.
And astronaut training sucks complete ass!
Literally!
What is the deal with all the enemas?!
- Uh -- - And why do you need so much blood?!
And wait, now that I think about it -- - Why is this man in
the restricted area?!
Who, him?
You.
Wh-? Krieger!
Uh -- smoke bomb!
And why aren't you with the other trainees?
I was told I had to undergo a bunch of extremely
invasive medical tests.
Well normally you would, but by our doctors.
But since you're on such an accelerated training schedule --
Six enemas is a luxury we can ill afford, got it.
Six?!
Or -- who knows, he put me under.
Maybe twelve.
Now you've wasted half a day, so the other trainees are way
ahead of you.
Not for long they're not!
Well he's eager, I'll give him that.
Well, you inspire him.
With all those medals on that powerful chest.
Your wife is a very lucky-- - I'm a widower.
Oh!
Difficult to meet people, isn't it, in jobs like ours.
I only mention it because I also happen to be single -- - Yes, I know.
Excuse me.
I hope to God that was alcohol.
No!
Yes!
- Dammit Archer, it's-- - It's my turn!
Cyril! Cyril!
Drake said lemme fly it!
Cut it out, Archer!
I'm landing!
C'mon, baby, keep that nose up...
What the --?!
Explosive decompression.
Happy, Cyril?!
You just destroyed Alderaan!
Dammit, that was closer than any of us have gotten to actually landing!
A, because you're all crap, and B, who cares, we're not gonna land it!
- What the hell -- - -- is going on in here?!
- Archer -- - Saw an electrical fire in the simulator,
and knowing that my colleague's life was in danger, I --
You acted without thinking!
As always.
- Not always... - Well, thank God you did -- - Wh-?
But almost always!
-- because that's exactly the kind of decisive action
this mission calls for.
You could all learn something from him.
- Oh my God... - Starting with a little training exercise we
lightheartedly call... The Vomit Comet!
And if you're wondering why we call it that...
Gagh!
Aw, it's all in my hair!
Oh Jeezy H. Petes!
What the hell is wrong with you, Lana?!
... that's why we call it that.
What possible reason, could there be, to subject human beings to --
SKEWWWWWWW... - Such mind-shattering awesomeness!
- The KC-135 flies in a parabolic arc-- - Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo caaaaaaaaaares!
-- which allows us to achieve weightlessness for about thirty seconds.
We'll do this twenty times -- - Woooooo! Weightlessness!
-- so you can get acquainted with the sensation of being weightless.
It takes some time getting used to, but -- - Ow.
Agent Kane.
Are you alright?
Yep.
Yep yep yep.
What is going on with you?
Do not like.
What're you, crazy?
What's not to --
Oh.
No! Archer, noooo!
Yeesss!
Please don't do this!
What's that? Sorry, I couldn't hear you over the
sound of the vawshiiiit!
Looking good!
Only nineteen more to go!
Nineteen more times... Until there was literally
no more fluid left in my body.
Yeah, and thanks so much for that.
- Cyril... - She's not the one who kept riding you into it
holding your mouth open.
- Jeez, even in zero gravity you're an assho -- - You were saying?
To the wet-towel wielding survivor of fifteen years of
boarding school locker rooms?
Wait, fifteen?
Or -- whatever, the normal number.
Twelve?!
Yes, we will launch in twelve hours.
We received another transmission from the Horizon.
They can't wait.
But we haven't been trained properly!
To what, wear a seat belt?
Actually, is it a five-point harness, or...?
- I admit this isn't an ideal scenario -- - Speaking of,
what's the scenario when we get to the Horizon?
We don't have a tactical plan, we don't-- - We'll have plenty of time
to discuss our plan of action during the flight.
- But -- - Lana!
What has gotten in to you?
- More like what got out of her... - Sir, I'm not sure Lana-
sorry honey - is physically capable of spaceflight.
Ray!
Actually I may not be cut out for it.
I'm sorry to hear that, Agent Kane... Because you're going.
To a zone, which is one of danger.
T-minus ninety seconds.
Roger, Control, all systems are go.
Next stop, Horizon.
Okay. Archer.
Sorry, are you talking to me?
Or to her, who why is she here?!
Because Tony invited me!
Tony?!
What, you trying to get my mother into the Million-Mile High Club?!
Sterling!
- Archer... - Would you calm the hell down?!
I am calm!
And I'm also outta here!
Take your hands off that harness.
Make me!
Oh, and just so you know?!
She -- Can't breathe.
Uh, Flight, we're showing suit number two
with an oh-two malfunction.
Double-check that, Control, I'm showing green across the board.
Stand by.
Roger, standing by.
Doo do doooo... - Tony, please!
He'll behave!
Won't he!
Ip.
Excellent... Because I won't- I can't - let anyone jeopardize the
success of this mission.
Flight, oh-two on suit two is showing normal.
But uh, keep an eye on it.
Oh, I will.
- Hooray... - Resume countdown, Control.
Roger, Flight.
- T-minus five... four... - Exciting, isn't it?
Three.
Two.
One.
I think it is.
Ignition.
Liftoff.
Just relax, and rely on your training!
Which we didn't have!
Because Phase Two's a little rough!
Phase Two?!
What's Phase --
Aaaaaaghhhhh!
That was Phase Two.
Did not like.
Wait'll you see Phase Three.
What?
I'm kidding, there is no Phase Three.
Just a little space-humor.
Yeah, funny stuff.
Right?
Right, then... I want to brief you all on we can expect when we dock
with Horizon.
Ugh, can we expect a pharmacy?
Lana, it's not a strip mall.
Although I assume there's a bar?
A bar?
Or whatever, cantina.
Ah... No.
Please pay attention.
We'll dock here, move forward on foot toward Horizon's bridge, and --
Wait, on foot?
Horizon has artificial gravity.
See how it spins on its longitudinal axis?
Lana, look at it spin.
When we reach the bridge, we'll retake control of Horizon.
But we can expect heavy resistance, I'm sure the mutineers are armed.
With what, slide rules and Tang?
The M-41 Mark Two plasma-pulse rifle with concussion grenade launcher.
Oh shit!
On "kill" mode, the M-41 fires lethal plasma ammunition.
On "stun" it fires an ion pulse.
Similar to an EMP.
And can it be fired with an erection?
Ugh.
Archer! Muzzle?!
Relax, it's on stun Lana.
Careful.
Even on stun it can -- - Oops.
Clear!
- Clear! - Clear!
Owwwwwww!
Whew! As I was saying, it's possible for the EMP to stop a man's heart.
So "stun,"
maybe a bit of a misnomer.
- Dammit, Archer... - I'm not the one who was all sweaty!
Mr. Archer, that's twice you've jeopardized the success of this mission!
There will not be a third!
Uh, Flight, we have a problem...
- Well don't look at me... - My God, on this trajectory we'll miss
Horizon!
Control, what happened?!
Burn rates were good, Flight, uh... stand by.
Uh, Flight, we're showing that you are grossly overweight.
Oh, for --!
I wouldn't say grossly!
I would.
I would be well within my rights to jettison both of you into space!
Well within them!
Malory!
However!
For uh, numerous reasons - one being this ship can't actually do that -
I've decided take you with us.
But I want to know how you got aboard.
Whaddya mean, how?
Mr. Ar -- - Yeah so that safety's tricky, huh?
Clear!
- Clear! - Clear!
Owwwwwww!
- Awesome... - Son of a shitsnackin whore... - Mr. Figgis!
Lock that man in the cargo hold.
Who, me?
Aye freaking aye.
Ms. Archer.
In case I need to sterilize something?
Get strapped in.
Agent Gillette, monitor this woman's vital signs.
Agent Kane, come with me.
I may need some help getting us to Horizon.
So that we don't die writhing in agony when we run out of oxygen.
Yeah, been there, no picnic.
Speaking of, great for picnics.
The tofu teriyaki, not so much.
There's teriyaki?
No!
Cyril, c'mon, lemme out.
No, you jerk!
You shoot me in the heart with a space-blaster... - Wh-?!
You're still mad about that?!
Not to mention whatever idiot reason you had for smuggling Pam on board!
You're screwin him, aren'tcha?
Whaaaaaaaat?
Yes.
No!
Because if we don't die, for all I care you can rot in there!
Cyril?! Cyril!
Well good luck fighting a bunch of whatever, space-pirates without me.
you, space.
Come on baby, just a few more seconds!
Damn it!
I don't know if that was a long enough burn!
Agent Kane, I need a readout!
For God's sake, woman, Dramamine!
- It makes me sleepy... - I think we're okay, sir!
Thank God.
Because we're out of fuel.
What?!
How are we gonna get back to Earth?!
There is fuel.
On Horizon.
Well I didn't know that.
The flight computer will dock the ship.
Assemble the boarding party.
Nor was I told there would be a party.
Lana, what're you wearing?
Bio-matrix composite body armor.
Effective against small-arms fire.
And we need all the help we can get.
Since there's only four of us.
Yeah, that seems kinda... few.
- Heck, if you need some help, I'll -- - No!
We can't jeopardize the women!
Cough.
- Well not you... - No, no, no, Agent Kane,
I'm afraid your particular skill-set outweighs your --
Docking complete.
Is that a ghost?
Nope.
Boarding party, into the airlock.
Gravity engaged.
Weapons on stun, fast and hard to the bridge.
And remember, these are mutineers.
Even if they try to say -- - Suppressing fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiire!
Otherwise.
Just follow me.
And try not to shoot me in the awshit!
What the hell.
Is wrong with me?
It's the artificial gravity!
You have to readjust to it!
- I'll get my inner ear right on that... - We don't have time
for this, they're -- - There they are!
Get 'em, get 'em!
Drop your weapons!
Suppressing -- So does this run on batteries, or...?
Fiiiiire!
Get some! Get some!
We're pinned down!
Really?
You don't think I could rock this?
Couple things... One, I don't know what that means.
And two... hang on.
Hang on.
And two, you obviously don't know what "boarding party" means.
Who am I, sixteenth-century female Irish pirate Gráinne O'Malley?
Or her sole female descendant!
I'm sorry.
For what?
Space-blastering me in the frickin tits?!
Or tricking me into that fart-locker to get blasted into
outer goddamn space on the off chance you might wanna bang me!
- Both I guess, look -- - After you blew me off
for Katya the big-titted cyborg!
Littleiss, uh... - R2-double-D2?
Nice.
Thanks, and I'm sorry, but you gotta let me out, Pam,
they're fighting space-pirates out there!
With Cyril!
It's supposed to fire.
What is wrong with you?
And Lana can't even stand up!
You idiot, just reset the -- unghff!
Jesus, like a dog in a station wagon.
No, no!
We're losing the beachhead!
They're running out of time, Pam!
- Oh, alright... - That being said... quickie?
Meh.
Whew!
Okay, good luck.
Thanks, normally I'd say I don't need it,
but I can barely feel my legs.
I call that the MOAB.
It stands for -- - I know!
What it stands for, I was there, please don't say it out loud.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to... Kick some space-pirate ass!
Woooooo!
Archer?!
Hang on?
Yes, Archer, duh.
And if you're done doing each other's hair, let's -- - Let's retake the shiiiiip!
Or just run around interrupting people.
Gagh! I'm hit, I'm hit!
Oh, for -- Do I have to do everything?
He asked, intending to be facetious!
I'm sorry!
I don't know what's wrong with me!
Besides suffering from gigantism?!
Shut up.
The bridge!
We have to make it to the -- - The bridge, yes, I heard you!
So unless we're going the wrong way...!
Uhh... oh.
No, that's it right there.
Then shut up! God!
Okay, now what?
You can un-shut up.
The com-link, by the door... Commander Kellogg?
It's Drake!
Tony?!
"Tony?!"
Oh my God, am I glad to see you!
We couldn't have held out much longer!
Well, we got here as fast as we could.
My God, you're wounded.
Put him here, please, and we'll take those... - Uh, oh.
Yeah, here you go... - Oh dear, are you wounded too?
- No, just -- - Just a little space-sickness.
But eventually she'll get acclimated.
I -- eventually?
Yes, she's strong, good breeding stock.
Wh-?! Hey!
Whoa, Charles Benedict Davenport.
Uh, the father of eugenics.
Seriously guys, read a book.
And two more on the Intrepid, stowaways, almost as good as her.
Two more?!
Then we can populate Mars even faster than we'd hoped!
- What? - What?
Did you say Mars?!
Oh now your ears -- wait, why did you say Mars?
Don't you see?
They're the mutineers!
Welcome to the... Danger Zone!
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com