All language subtitles for Andromeda.S01E06.WS.DVDRip.XviD.AC3-TyR

Now you must let your instincts guide you.

Slipstream piloting isn't a skill, it's an art.

You have to feel your way to your destination.

I dunno. It seems kind of complicated.

Trance, I've seen you perform surgery
on species you never met.

I've seen you make food out of dirt and spores.
Compared to that, this is easy.

Well, maybe for you.
But those are plants and people.

This isn't alive.
It's, like, switches and stuff...

They're tools ways to
interact with the slipstream.

And while the slipstream may not
be alive, it feels like it is.

It changes. It shifts. As pilot, all you have to do
is anticipate those shifts. Hmmm?

Well, if it's so easy, why
can't Andromeda do it herself?

Well, Andromeda may be sentient, but
she's still technically a machine.

And machines and slipstream don't get along.

Be confident and decisive.

Remember this, if it helps you:

When an organic sentient makes a choice
about their course in the slipstream,
most often, they choose correctly.

Early Vedran physicists believed it had to do
with the interaction of an organic observer
with collapsing probability waves.

Oooh. Well, that makes it all right, then.

Maybe we should do this some other time.

No!

Now, we've got six people on this crew.
One day, our survival may depend
on Trance's slip-piloting skills. She will learn.

36 O-fuyuchi's a quick slipstream from here.

Are you sure about this?

Yes. Let's do it. Now. Go with your instincts.

All right, then. Transitting
to slipstream...NOW!

I don't think I'm doing this right!

Confidence is paramount! Maintain focus!

Look out!

Is that supposed to happen?

I can't navigate through this, remember?

But I'm guessing "No".

- Don't fight the streams!
- It started it.

Uh...guys?

Oops!

We're back in normal space.
Assuming flight control.

Did I do all right?

Well, I'm just taking a stab at it,
but that doesn't look like 36 O-fuyuchi

I can't get a fix on our location because of the nebula,
but we're definitely not where we should be.

- And that's the good news.
- How can that possibly be good news?

When compared with the bad news.
Which is that the slipstream drive is broken.

Ship?

My SPG lenses are completely fried.
I'll have to rebuild them and recalibrate.

Which means we're not going
anywhere any time soon.

What the HELL are you
people doing to my ship!?!

I'm sorry! I'm very sorry! Sorry!

The long night has come

The system Commonwealth, the
greatest civilisation was fall

and now one ship, one crew are
about drive back the night,

they'll gush up the light of civilisation

on the starship Andromeda hope lives again

Angel Dark, Demon Bright

Trance!

Trance, I know you're in here!

You do? How?

Uhhh...actually, I was bluffing.

I always fall for that one.
I always fall for everything.

- That's your charm.
- Charm?

I got us lost, wrecked our
engines, and nearly killed us all.

It was an accident.

You think I'm stupid?

Uh...no. No, not at all.
I just think you're...inexperienced.

I'm a menace.

Did Beka ever tell you the time where I tried
to fix the Eureka Maru's coffee maker, and I
shorted out the artificial gravity generator?

I think she might have mentioned it, yes.

But she also told me that the AG
system would've blown out anyway.

And it might have cut out while the ship
was excelerating and killed everyone aboard.

Well, she was just being nice.

Beka thinks that you're her good luck charm.

As for me...well, you're a gifted medic, you keep
the life-support system in tip-top shape,and

ever since you came on board, the hydroponics
gardens have been growing like crazy.

Those are plants. Plants are easy.

You water the ones you want, you weed out
the ones you don't. Sometimes you fertilize
a tree, and sometimes you prune it.

Everything else, like machines and
then time and space, you know, like,
it's really complicated sometimes.

Yeah, I know what you mean. I felt the same
way when I took beginning astrophysics.

You're kidding.

Yes, I am.

Oh.

Don't worry. Once we repair the
engines, we'll be as good as new.

Now who's driving?

Long-chain polymer webs.

Hey! Give the man a kewpie-doll.

Trance dropped us in the
middle of a mine-field.

After an unauthorized flying lesson.

Note taken.

On the bright side, I think I know where we are.

Milky Way galaxy, Orion arm.

Witchhead Nebula.

Witchhead? As in "The Battle of Witchhead"?

I've, uh, spent the last few months trying
to catch up on 300 years of history.
Someone want to refresh my memory?

Allow me.

The Witchhead Nebula was THE site of the
climactic battle of the Nietzschean rebellion.

Nietzschean Tactical Offensive.

Whatever.The point is, this is where the Systems'
Commonwealth made its last stand.

One hundred High Guard ships the, uh, broken
remains of your team commanded by Captain
Teddy Roosevelt on the flagship Thermopoli.

Captain TEDDY Roosevelt?

- Did you know him?
- Not personally, no.

ANYWAY, Roosevelt was up against
five thousand Nietzschean ships.

Closer to five hundred.

Who's telling this story? Me or you?

You. And that's precisely
what you're telling, isn't it?

Thank you.

The Nietzscheans were commanded by Admiral
Ho Chi Minh of the Gunga Din pride.

Now, the battle lasted
forty days and forty nights.

And by the time it all ended, the
entire nebula was flooded with fire.

Finally, it's down to two ships:
Roosevelt's Thermopoli and Ho Chi Minh's Path.

Only, Roosevelt was dying.

So, he takes the Thermopoli and rams it straight
into the Path kamikaze-style, and BOOM!

Takes Ho down in one last great
act of defiance, saving Earth.

I thought Earth was conquered by the Magog.

Well, metaphorically speaking.

Translation, please?

The Nietzscheans ambushed the remnants of
the High Guard fleet. They had 500 ships.

The High Guard had less than a hundred.

Eventually, the Commonwealth
forces were completely destroyed.

Not, however, before they inflicted heavy
casualties on the Nietzschean fleet,

particularly on the ships of the ruling
Drago-Kasov pride,

consequently leaving them vulnerable.

In the aftermath, Pride Jaguar and
their allies launched a surprise attack.

The ensuing civil war shattered
the entire Nietzschean Alliance.

Which is why the Nietzscheans
didn't take over after the war.

All hope for a united
Nietzschean Empire died here.

The Battle of Witchhead was an
unmitigated disaster for both sides.

I like my version better.

The only virtue of my version
is that it's the TRUTH.

As far as you know.

Meaning what, exactly?

There's every chance your version
is just as mythical as Harper's.

I'm not detecting any signs
a battle was fought here.

No wreckage, no spent warheads, no
blow-outs in the molecular cloud.

Just the usual assortment of natural hazards.

We'll analyze the nebula later.

Right now, we need to get
clear of all this chopp.

Beka, nice and slow if you please.

And we're clear.

Good job, Beka.

All ahead full.

Mr. Harper, how are those repairs coming along?

Slowly, but surely.

You know how twitchy these
slipstream drives can be.

They're a lot easier to break
than they are to fix.

My old engineer called it "job security".

Smart woman. I've been reading her manuals.

Rommie?

Checking.

According to the ship's registry,
that's the Renewed Valor.

That's Captain Yazgar's ship.

They're hailing us.

On-screen. Close on me. I don't want them
seeing Tyr until we're sure what's going on.

On-Screen.

Dylan? Dylan, is that you?

Gar. What are you doing here?

I could ask you the same question.

We thought the Andromeda was
destroyed at the Battle of Hephaestus.

I...got away. Barely.

Dylan, you've been missing for thirteen
months. The entire duration of the war.

I...uhh...there must have been some temporal
distortion from the black hole. I...

Well, you're back now.
And not a moment too soon.

What do you mean?

This is the end of the line, Dylan.

We've been fighting the Nietzscheans for more
than a year, and we have not been winning.

Admiral Stark has ordered every remaining
High Guard ship to assemble here.

In two days, we're heading straight for Fountainhead,
to take out the Nietzschean homeworld.

The Battle of Witchhead. We're HERE?!?

We're going to be right in the middle of it.

Time travel. Daddy always said
"Never mess with time travel".

According to all the available evidence,
the Battle of Witchhead will take place in
this general area in less than two days.

So, the question is what, if
anything, do we do about it.

Buy Intershipping at 40. Oh, corner the market
on independent courier ships.

What?

- Harper, this is serious.
- Well, so is this.

Come on, open your eyes, people.

We know how the next 300
years are gonna turn out!

- Badly.
- Well, yes, badly.

But, maybe not for us. I mean

In 30 years, there'll be a
voltarium strike on Candislan?,

or the shark-fur trade on Tsunami.

Hell, in less than a decade, the Free
Trade Association's gonna be formed,
and we could sit on the board!

Or we can save the Commonwealth.

If we warn them about the Nietzschean ambush,
it might shift the odds in their favor.

Then what?

We can prevent the Fall keep
the Commonwealth intact.

The Commonwealth is already dead.

One ship, ten, or even a hundred,
won't change that.

Think, Dylan.

By now, the Vedran homeworld is cut off
from the slipstream. The Empress is dead.

Warlords and opportunists are about their
business even as we speak, and in just a few
months, the Magog will begin their invasion.

True.

Unfortunately, my people will descend upon
what's left of the Commonwealth like vultures.

And the only ones who will even be able to
slow them down will be the Nietzscheans.

Well, God bless the Nietzscheans. Where
would the Commonwealth be without them?

Yes, well,

good, bad, or indifferent, if you want to save lives,
you've got but one choice.

Help the Nietzscheans.

Like hell!

Will you let go of your useless emotional
bias and look at this logically?

Right now, the Nietzscheans
are organized, unified, strong!

Aid them in this battle, and perhaps we could
shorten the long night by a hundred years.

Two hundred. Perhaps prevent it altogether.

By helping the very people who created it.

The irony isn't lost upon me, either.

But you've said you want
to prevent war and chaos.

Now you've got your chance.

So beautiful, and yet, so fragile.

It's a heavy burden
that Providence has laid upon you.

Providence can have it back!
We shouldn't even be here.

- Are you certain of that?
- This is all some kind of cosmic joke.

While I admit the Universe does have a sense
of humor, I doubt very much this is a joke.

Think about it.

What are the odds that we should arrive here
at this place, at this critical time in history?

Come on, Rev. You think
I'm supposed to be here?

I find it hard to believe something
like this would happen without purpose.

And I find it hard to believe that
we're supposed to help the Nietzscheans.

Even if it stops a Magog invasion of Earth?

Magog attacks were brutal, yes,
but your people never stayed anywhere for long.
They came and went like locusts.

Yes, leaving a trail of corpses in their wakes.

True.

But planets occupied by the Nietzscheans suffered
decades, even centuries, of brutal oppression,

purges, slavery, genocide.

You're asking me to choose
the lesser of two evils.

And that's not a choice I care to make.

We're leaving?

As soon as the slipstream drive is repaired.
We don't belong here.

You're wrong.
We have an opportunity. We should seize it.

A dangerous opportunity. Rommie, a little
basic temporal mechanics for our friends.

Theory One:
Our timeline is continuous with this one.

In that case, everything we do has
already happened. Nothing will change.

Theory Two:
Multiple possible futures.

Everything we do could
have massive implications.

Make the wrong decision, and 300 years later,
we could prevent Tyr's birth or Andromeda's
rescue from the black hole. Anything.

There's no way of telling which of
Rommie's two theories applies,
but we can't afford to take chances.

Well, you won't get any arguments from me.

All right. We leave.
Assuming we can repair this ship.

Harper Historical Document, 1.1

How I Saved the Future:
The Autobiography of Seamus Zelazny Harper.

Now, for reasons of his own, our captain,
Dylan Hunt, has decided NOT to interfere
in the Battle of the Witchhead Nebula.

Now, while I respect his decision,
I do not share in his evaluation of the situation.

Therefore,
I have decided to take matters into my own hands.

After...uhhh...blinding Andromeda's internal sensors,
I have begun to modify key systems of her power core.

These modifications, when complete,
will allow me to cause a single,
cataclysmic explosion in the nebula.

Note to sculptors:
Statues of me should look, uh,
I dunno...wise, concerned.

I suggest posing me with a soldering
wand over my head like a sword.

Oh! I almost forgot.

For those of you who have already done
the math and are thinking "Well, uh,
clearly this is a BRILLIANT idea,

but in order to hit the Nietzschean fleet,
Harper will have to anticipate their exact position
several minutes in advance."

And you are correct.
That is where this comes in.

A complete history of the Battle of the Witchhead,
courtesy of the Maru's database.

So. To, uh, summarize. Uhhhh...GENIUS, young,
somewhat good-looking engineer sets trap.

Nietzscheans arrive. Nietzscheans go BOOM!
And everybody lives happily ever after.

Harper out.

Our current thoery is that the AG
field interacted with the black
hole during my slingshot approach.

Which would explain the time dilation.

I lost...a year.
But to me it felt like five seconds.

We missed you. You and the Andromeda both.

Did any of my crew make
it through the evacuation?

Most of them.

They say you drew off the Nietzscheans,
bought them enough time to make it to safety.

I'm glad.

Ordering everyone to abandon ship,
it was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

What about Sarah? Is she ok?

Last I heard, she was attempting
to mount a rescue mission.

But resources are stretched pretty thin.

Guess it's a good thing you didn't need it.

Yeah. Yeah, lucky me.

- Dylan, do we have to do this?
- Do what?

I recognize the "Eyes-Only" shuffle when I see it.

- You think I'm holding something back?
- You always were a stickler for that kind of thing.

Hell, it's been years, and you still haven't
told me how you got that stomach wound.

It's, uh, it's classified.

You'll tell me the truth
when you think I need to hear it.

Until then, in Dylan Hunt we trust.

What a mess.

I'd take that personally if it weren't true.

On the bright side, with all the pounding
you've been through in the last few weeks,
it's a wonder you're working at all.

And here I was, starting to feel proud
of the way my systems were functioning.

For the first time since you rescued me from
the black hole, I'm almost fully combat-ready.

I'm happy for you.

I'm not.

I admit I don't have many fighters,
but I don't have the crew to fly them, anyway.

But everything else -point defense system,
offensive missiles, sensor drones
-they're all in perfect shape!

I can make a difference out there, but instead..

Dylan wants you to run.

I've checked the Maru's historical records.
I've seen the casualty lists.

The Vanguard, the Continuation of Politics,
the Salient Debate, the Fires of Orion.

A lot of good ships and good people
are going to die tomorrow,
and he wants me to stand aside and let it happen.

He's the captain.

I know. But I'm a warship,
and I don't like walking away from a fight.

Hey, Harper, what's this?

- Uhhh...beats me.
- Isn't it one of your techno-widgits?

Hey, you're right. I was, uh,
wondering where I left that.

I found it next to one of those AP reactors.

Huh. Fancy that.

Yeah, I didn't know what it was doing there,
so I cross-referenced the way it was wired with
one of those...schematic-thingies?

Harnessing gravity fields for
anti-proton catalyzed fusion.

I don't suppose I could convince you
it's just a harmless science experiment.

Oh, sure. As long as your experiment includes
killing tens of thousands of Nietzscheans.

Hey! What do ya know. It does! Bravo. You
figured it out. Now, gimme that, so I can...

- Harper, I can't do that.
- Trance, this isn't a game. I need that.

- Well, Dylan said we're not supposed to interfere.
- Dylan doesn't know what he's talkin' about!

All right, look. I'm sorry, ok? I grew up on Earth.
I lived through Nietzschean raids.
And Magog attacks, and famines, and plagues.

And you know what?
The Nietzscheans were the worst.

Because they're so strong?

No. Because when push comes
to shove, they're human.

And nobody beats us humans for downright nastiness.
Let me lay a few ancient Earth human words on you.

Crucifixion. The electric chair. The guillotine.
Feel free to look 'em up.

I think I get the point.

No, you don't. The point is:

Sure, I could be changing the future, but it
doesn't matter what future I create, because
ANYTHING is better than letting the Nietzscheans win.

But you can't take that chance,

because if you fire that off,
it could destroy the nebula
and kill everything in it.

The Nietzscheans,
the High Guard crew members, and us.

That's a risk I'm willing to take.

I'm not.

Sensors, combat systems,
and environmental control are optimal.

Unfortunately, fixing the slipstream drive
is proving to be difficult, as usual.

You know the old saying. Slipstream: It's not
the best way to travel faster than light,
it's just the only way.

How much longer?

- Three or four hours at the earliest.
- Plenty of time.

Help! Help! Help. Help! He's trying
to kill me! He's trying to kill me.

- Who's trying to kill you?
- Him! Him.

I can explain!

Rommie, can't we at least talk about this?

Move!

You know, I can find my
quarters on my own, thank you.

I'm guarding you, Harper, not
guiding you. There's a difference.

Don't be like this! I was only trying to
stop the Nietzscheans from conquering Earth.

If I tried to re-arrange your internal organs
tried to force you to violate your most
important moral imperatives how would you feel?

- I'd say that actually that sounds kind of fun.
- This isn't the time for humor.

Seamus Harper, you are confined to quarters
until further notice. Feel free to rearrange
the furniture to your heart's content.

But I recommend against making yourself
invisible to me again. I might forget you even existed,
and you'd starve to death.

Anything I can do to help?

Help. That's not a very Tyr-like thing to say.

Ah, well, unpredictability's the mark of
a thoughtful soldier. What've you got?

Uh...well, can you realign a slipstream lens?

I can field strip a gauss rifle blind and one-handed.
I imagine I can calibrate your lens.

All right. Down boy.

You know, I can cook, too.

You'd be surprised at the kind of
skills you acquire as a mercenary.

You don't seem very upset about
Dylan's decision to leave.

Leaving increases our chances of survival.

Why should I object?

Done.

The slipstream drive is back on-line.
We can leave whenever you're ready.

Have you checked my astrogational data?

It looks valid.

If you retrace Trance's route and I reverse
the stream polarity at exactly the right
moment, we should end up back in our own time.

Theoretically.

Everything is theoretical until you try it.

Hmmm. Some things are more theoretical
than others. Shall I assemble the crew?

- Not yet. There's one last thing I need to do.
- Another repair?

That's one way of putting it.

- Time travel?
- I know. It's hard to believe.

The word you're looking for is 'Impossible'.

You said, when I was ready to tell you
the truth, I would. Well, this is it.

I was expecting something
more...cloak-and-dagger.

- There is no cavalry. It's just me.
- And you're leaving.

I don't belong here, Gar.

There's a lot more I need to tell
you, and I will, if you come with me.

You want me to abandon the fleet.

What's going to happen here in the next
few days, neither of us can change.

But if you come with me,
you can make a difference!

- Your word. As an officer.
- And a friend.

Tell me what to do.

The Renewed Valor has almost
reached the slipstream portal.

What's our ETA?

Another ten minutes, at least.

I still can't do much more than 30 PSL.

I'm sorry. I'm...I'm really sorry.
I promise I will never do that again.

It all turned out fine. You helped me save a friend
AND you doubled the size of our fleet.
Not a bad day's work.

- Luck.
- Don't knock it. Everyone can use a little.

I'm detecting a swarm of new ships.

Multiple vectors. Bearing zero-mark-zero.
Range, three light minutes.

Slipstream portal on-screen.

The Valor.

Too late.

It was too late when we saw them. These
images are already three minutes old.

And now?

Come about 180, maximum stealth mode.

- What about your friend?
- My friend..

died over 300 years ago.

Take us deeper into the nebula. Nice and smooth.
I don't want to attract attention.

Whatever you say.

Dylan, something is not right here. Tyr, how
many ships did you say the Nietzscheans had?

The historical record reads five hundred.

I'm reading closer to FIFTEEN-hundred.

Three times as many as they're supposed to have.

That's right, keep moving.
No one here but us plasma clouds.

They won't find us.

They're too busy setting up ambush locations,
getting ready for the slaughter.

Dylan, I've finished sorting the Maru's records.

And?

I did locate seventeen different accounts
of the Battle of Witchhead.

All of them are quite consistent.

The Nietzschean fleet was comprised of 500 ships.
No more.

Well, then how do you
explain those extra ships?

We must have changed history. Something
we did influenced the timeline.

Or something we WILL do.

Before the battle.

Which, according to my analysis,
is in less than four hours.

Harper's device.

A fusion catalyst.

If these records are right,

the only way we can preserve history and prevent
the rise of a Nietzschean Empire

and ensure that our timeline remains intact

is to destroy over a thousand Nietzschean ships.

May I?

I'd like to be alone for a
while, if you don't mind.

I understand. I, myself, prefer solitude
while doing mathematics.

How'd you know?

Oh, it wasn't difficult.

In fact, I suspect I could guess the equation.

Let me see..

One thousand ships, average crew size: 100,
simple multiplication.

One hundred thousand people.
How can I even consider it?

Dylan, fate brought you to this battle.
Destiny demands your actions.

I know, this is not easy for you,
but perhaps you are merely a tool of Divine Will.

That's a nice excuse.

Humans have been using it since the dawn of time.

"I had to kill my enemies. It's what God wanted."

Just because humans use it as an
excuse does not negate the possibility.

What kind of divine plan requires the
deaths of tens of thousands of people?

Tiger, tiger burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

Humans have been asking THIS question
since the dawn of time.

My people don't bother.

We Magog know the Divine exists.

We know it created the stars and the planets,
the soft winds and the gentle rain.

We also know He created nightmares.
Because he created us.

You're saying it created this situation.

You ask me how this could be God's will.

My answer is this: How can it not be?

The Divine lives in all places, but most importantly,
the Divine lives here...and here.

This is my mathematics. I'll leave you to yours.

Override command denied.

Override command denied.

Override command denied.

Hi.

Let me save you some time.

Hello.

How are you?

I'm fine.

Now, you have a nice day.

I will, thank you.

Goodbye.

This is one of those really
awkward situations, isn't it?

Where I walked in on you at exactly
the wrong moment, and I'm supposed to pretend
that nothing's really happening,

and you're supposed to pretend like it's no big deal,
and then when I turn to leave, you kill me, right?

If it is?

Well, then I think it's my duty as a
friend to explain to you why I think
that would be a really terrible mistake.

Please do.

Ok, well, theoretically speaking, you're here
on the Maru because you're debating
whether or not to go over to the Nietzscheans

and warn them that Dylan might try to kill them.

But, you know, I just thought
of something right now.

It's kinda funny that you weren't at
all surprised when the Nietzschean
fleet turned out to be so big.

You know, it was almost like you KNEW
that there were many more ships and that
something was going to happen to them.

Something like Harper's explosion?

So far, you're only talking about me.
We were supposed to be talking about you.

Right. You're right.
So, um, you have two options here.

You can side with the Nietzscheans,
or you can stick with Dylan. You can't do both.

And if you approach the Nietzschean fleet
in the Maru, you're only going to draw fire.

Which means that you're weighing a victory for
your people against your own personal survival.

Again, we seem to be straying from the subject.

Ok. Um, the point is, your best plan for survival
is to keep your options open.

But if you kill me, you have committed yourself
to abandoning the Andromeda.

If what you're saying were true...

just for the sake of argument...

Yeah.

Then right now, I'd still have no choice.

I would have to eliminate you and
take my chances with the Nietzscheans.

Why? This is just a theoretical discussion. Isn't it?

A game.

I take my games very seriously.

I don't.

In fact, when I leave here, I'll probably
forget that the whole thing even happened.

What whole thing?

Exactly! Bye!

The battle is less than two hours away.

Whatever you do,
you're going to have to decide soon.

Do you believe in fate?

The idea that the universe is a vast, pre-programmed
machine does have a certain appeal.

Not for me.

I've always believed a man makes his own fate.
That life is made up of a series of choices.

- You do have a choice.
- Do I?

Occam's Razor: The simplest explanation
is usually the right one.

There are three times as many enemy ships
as there should be.

We have the means to destroy them.
What is the simplest explanation?

Let Harper out of his quarters.
Get him to deploy his fusion catalyst.
We are going in.

Aye-Aye.

Well?

Well, it's really nice that you FINALLY
decided to kill the bad guys and everything,
but, uh, it's too late.

How so?

Well, this isn't exactly a precise weapon, ok?
It's more like a plasma mine than a gauss rifle.

See, the idea was to rig it BEFORE they arrived,
when we could predict their exact location.
But now...

They're scattered all over the nebula.

Exactly.

Which means a catalyst is not gonna work.

Unless you can get them all to
politely line up to be incinerated.

I'll see what I can do.

What?

You get the catalyst working.
I'll handle the Nietzscheans.

Emerging from the molecular cloud.

Mr. Harper?

Finally! Harper's plan, put into action!

What was that?

Uhhh...ready. Ladies?

Ready here.

- You know, you don't have to do this.
- I want to.

I'm the one who got us into this,
and I'm as responsible for what's
going to happen as anyone.

- Where's Tyr?
- In his quarters.

Let's do this.

Rommie, route weapon control to my station.
Rev, turn on the active sensors.

That'll get their attention.

Battle stations. Full power to the engines.

We've engaged multiple targets. Light damage
to each. Enemy ships are moving to intercept.

Keep moving. Jab and weave.
Launch combat drones.

Well, if you're trying to stir up
a hornet's nest, you've done it.

And they're starting to sting.

Tyr.

Mr. Anasazi. Can we help you?

My people have a legend about
the Battle of Witchhead.

They say that the Nietzschean forces
arrived here with overwhelming numbers.

Their victory seemed assured.

But then, in the critical hour,

the Angel of Death appeared,
summoning forth the fires of hell.

The Nietzschean fleet was struck down, crippled,

their glorious victory turned to ashes.

You knew all along?

I've never seen an Angel before.

- Rommie, how long to ground zero?
- Forty-five seconds.

Harper! Initiate the fusion catalyst.

Harper saves the world, Take One.

- The catalyst is ready.
- Routing fire controls to command.

It's all yours, Dylan.

The Nietzschean ships are in position.

Dylan!

Dylan.

I have become Death, Destroyer of Worlds.

I'm reading multiple explosions. Two thirds of
the Nietzschean fleet were in the target zone.

One hundred thousand.

Brace for impact.

All systems functioning normally.

What's left of the Nietzschean
fleet is peeling off.

It's over.

Yeah, it's over.

We win.

We're approaching the slipstream portal.

Take us in as soon as we're in range.

What's the status on the Nietzscheans?

Survivors are scattered throughout the nebula.

When the High Guard arrives,

the Nietzscheans will be off-balance,

out of position.

You've succeeded.

Tell me again how this is all pre-destined.

Slipstream events! Multiple vectors.

- The High Guard fleet.
- They're hailing us.

The Nietzscheans are moving to intercept.

Take us out of here. Maintain radio silence.

Transitting into slipstream in three, two, one.

Good luck.

Reversing slipstream polarity...now!

Exiting slipstream.

Rommie?

Star positions and galactic expansion
are consistent with CY 10087.

We're back where we started.

I wish there had been another way.

Guilt is a wasted emotion...

or so I keep telling myself.

- You blame yourself for what happened?
- I didn't say that.

But I could have sabotaged the Andromeda.

I could have killed us all and saved
one hundred thousand Nietzschean lives.

- I didn't do it.
- No, you didn't.

I let my own need for survival outweigh
the fate of an entire people.

My people.

That's a very Nietzschean thing to do.

Yes, it is. Isn't it.

Maybe on some level, you knew that what
we did was somehow necessary and right.

Dylan, do you really believe that?

I have to.

That's better.

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