Original subtitles

Oh, my.

Oh, he's not going to be happy to see me.

So, I wonder what brings you back?

You know I can't stay away for long.

Oh, I hate when I have to do this.

Not as much as he hates it.

What's wrong, baby?

You said some pretty hurtful things, Tam.

Oh, God. Here we go.

Meant every one of them.

It's okay to lie about that, you know?

Sorry to interrupt, Friz, but--

Yeah, I'm kind of in the middle of this, MEAD.

Oh, come on, man. She's glitching. A little help?

- This is important. - Yeah, so is this, pal.

Really?

Now will you come on?

I was this close to not hating you.

I'm sorry, Friz. Really, I am.

Morning, Admiral.

Gross.

Hey, wait up!

You're not angry at me, are you?

He's angry.

What's the big emergency?

Martian bounty hunters.

- And how'd they find us? - I imagine

they discovered our waste dump after the Mars heist,

connected the dots between locations

and projected our coordinates.

Leading them here?

Heh, see? I told you. Dumping so soon was a bad idea.

You gonna take this out on me

or deal with the headhunters from Mars?

Why does everything you say sound like a bad movie?

So, you're going to take it out on me, then.

-Where are they? -They've got to be close.

There are no asteroids in this sector.

-But, sir, I'm showing-- -Fakes. Projections.

Blast 'em all. One of them might be the MEAD.

All right, what do they see?

Asteroids. We're blanked.

Well, I've got to tell you, it looks great.

Uh, but they're going to figure it out soon and, uh,

we can't run without leaving an energy trace.

Well, what are we going to do?

They want a target.

Let's give 'em one.

I've got a heat signature.

There!

Fire.

Direct hit.

Maybe.

Dirty rats. They could have killed us!

Rats?

This could be fun.

Oh, that's good.

No cheese for these rodents.

Keep your finger on that trigger.

What is it?

It's a trap.

Probably.

No, I mean it's a trap.

-Full reverse thrust. -Reverse thrust.

Gunner, fire!

Aye, captain!

We're going to hit it!

No power.

Relax.

None of this is actually happening.

They'll make their move, and then we blast 'em.

You got that?

Let's go with duckie.

Not duckie.

- What's wrong with duckie? - It's embarrassing.

Oh, it's classic.

You're embarrassing.

Stop pushing buttons.

I said stop pushing buttons!

You can't know what you're doing.

Captain, the MEAD ship...

Nope.

Wait for it.

Fire on that duck.

Guns up!

Oh, that was close.

Yeah, but they grazed their own hull.

Listen, go dark, come up behind them.

- I've got another idea. - You're the boss, boss.

They can't run without leaving a trace.

You better put this on.

Go. While you still can.

Uh, captain, someone is opening

air lock four on the inmate deck.

Forget about her. Follow my orders

and keep your eye on the real prize.

Weapons max power. Wide dispersal.

Captain, I don't know if you can see this,

but they're coming up behind us.

Guns up this time, hotshot.

Guns up. Weapons at full power.

Sorry, boys, but there ain't no up in space.

Let's get rid of those engines.

Come on, pal.

Hit that button for me.

Guns up.

Ready to fire on your command.

Maximum power.

Wide dispersal.

Do it.

Oh, no, no, no.

No, no, no.

I only wanted them to shoot out their engines.

Yeah, well, try not to fry a circuit, all right, man?

They were trying to kill us.

They're dead. All of them.

- Just forget it. - Friz.

I said forget it.

A little MEAD will make you feel better.

Nah, I'm good, thanks.

You're not still sore about the girl, are you?

No, pal. I'm not sore about the girl.

Oh, come on, man.

I'm in no mood for sequence sex.

My name's Tamera.

We'll be working very closely together.

Very closely.

Just trying to help.

Yeah, I know pal, it's just...

look, the Tam illusion isn't real.

She can't do any of the things the real Tam did,

like surprise me.

It's none of the good stuff.

But if she does what you don't want her to do

because that's what you want, isn't she still doing

-what you want her to do? -You wouldn't understand.

- Well, I'm trying. - Well, try harder.

Oh, uh, MEAD.

Look.

That's a survivor.

Uh, a woman.

MEAD, I swear, if this is a sequence you've been hiding--

None of my doing. I'll-- I'll pull her inside.

Be gentle.

What, I'm a klutz?

Oh, nicely done.

Hardly any internal injuries, pal.

Sorry.

How is she?

She's alive.

Do you know how long it's been since I touched a real woman?

One year, five months, two weeks and--

Rhetorical question, MEAD.

I-- I-- I knew that. - Yeah.

Oh, boy.

She must've been picked up by the bounty hunters.

A criminal.

Maybe it's a fashion statement.

Either way, she spells trouble.

Well, just help me get her upstairs.

Sure, I'll grab her legs with the arms I don't have.

I mean open the hatch, smartass.

Fashion statement. Yeah. Right.

I'm telling you, this is a bad idea.

Don't be afraid. What's your name?

-Where's my spacesuit? -I'm Friz. And this is MEAD.

We're all part of... anyway, the rest is all around us.

He's the ship.

Pleased to make your acquaintance.

MEAD is an acronym for--

Mobile Extrasensory Autonomous Deceptor.

You're wanted on every planet in the system.

Pst. Sidebar.

Excuse me one second.

What? What's the problem?

She knows who we are.

Half the system's looking for us.

She can't stay here, Friz.

Come on, man. She's on the run, same as us.

She'll kill you if she gets the chance.

-I know, it's awesome. -Is this a private conversation?

Hi, how about that name?

-Phoebe. -Oh, daughter of Gaia,

mother of all life.

Did the google-eyed marshmallow feed you that?

Or did you actually read a book?

- Hey, lady. - Okay, let's stow the attitude,

you two, come on, we did save your life.

I was safe in my cell until you two goons blew up the ship.

Barely got the suit on in time.

Well, if you're so desperate for a cell,

I can arrange that.

So, what did you do to get a bounty on your head?

Killed a guy for getting in my face.

Hey, sailor. Looking for a good time?

The ex, I take it?

She belongs here. You don't.

It's going to be a long trip.

We should get better acquainted.

All right, quit kidding around.

MEAD, vanish her, please?

I should make her vanish.

Come on, let's get comfy.

Shut up.

Knock it off. Now.

Oh, you're no fun.

Nice hooker program.

Tamera's no hooker.

How come you blink, robot?

How come you don't?

- MEAD. - Don't "MEAD" me.

You don't "MEAD" anyone.

So, did he deserve it?

-Who? -The guy you wacked.

Worried, Star Boy?

Okay, can you just drop the tough act?

-Because you're stuck with us. -Not for long.

Yeah, whatever you say.

They have a device that blocks your illusions.

Right now, a ship from Mercury Base

is on its way to Jupiter with it.

Mercury Base?

That's got to be him.

I thought he was dead.

What-- How'd you find out about this?

The bounty hunters were desperate

to collect the contract on you and Blinky here.

Before the military got to you.

Looks like the end of Star Boy and Blinky.

Witty repartee from one wearing the latest from

- the felon fatale collection. - Yeah.

Got a little something less "15 to life"?

Really, Friz?

Funny.

I'm in charge.

Don't forget it.

So, how do you do it?

I imagine things and MEAD projects them.

Call them sequences.

Some are new, some are reruns.

Why'd you go rogue?

They built MEAD to be a weapon, but he couldn't kill anything.

A bi-product of Tamera's sentience programming.

Tam was MEAD's AI tech.

She made him what he is today.

"Who" I am, thank you very much.

So, the hooker programmed a killer robot?

Again, not a hooker.

I'm telling you, MEAD couldn't hurt a fly.

Really?

-If only they were flies. -Well, if they hadn't used

full power they'd have just shot out their engines.

It wasn't our fault.

Keep telling yourself that.

Unbelievable.

So, what's next for you and the floating head?

We just want to be left alone.

Good luck with that.

Google-eyed marshmallow.

Tell me about Mercury Base.

No, and again, no.

There's not much to tell.

- Friz. - What's the story?

I wouldn't want to bore you.

- Friz. - I've got nothing but time.

A year and a half ago, MEAD and I were in a brig,

sweating out a court martial.

They called it treason when MEAD refused to participate

in military exercises.

Things didn't look so good.

Sorry, I got you into this, Friz.

Can you control your body from here?

Unfortunately, no.

This field is blocking communication and...

besides, we're too far away.

No com link, no illusions.

What are they going to do to us?

- You don't want to know. - I'm scared, Friz.

Yeah, me too.

I can't be what they want me to be.

- I suck. - Yeah, yeah, you do.

Tam!

Tam, they'll lock you up for this.

That's why I'm going with you.

-Thank you. -Don't thank me yet.

Tam, please don't throw away your life

-on my account. -Her decision, MEAD.

Come on, before I change my mind.

No. No.

Hey, we've got to go.

I'm going to be sick.

Come on, MEAD, it's not you, it's the other two.

That's supposed to make me feel better?

There's nothing you could have done to save them.

Look, we're gonna be next if we don't get a move on.

Hurry up!

Admiral Gillette, the symbiote and the droid are loose.

What? How?

One of the AI programmers.

Who else knows?

Just us.

I know where they're going. We can cut 'em off.

Jackson!

Good luck getting another job in this solar system.

That's the least of my worries.

You should not endanger yourself on my account.

The skyway's just ahead. Go right.

Someone's going to get hurt, I just know it.

Just shut up and keep moving.

I knew it!

Oh, this is a catastrophe.

We're all gonna die and it's all going to be on me.

It's my fault. Does that weapon have a stun setting?

Shut up!

Focus. Are you in range?

- Yeah, I-- I think so. - Okay, head down the skyway.

When you get close enough, prepare for takeoff.

On it.

MEAD. Spider sequence.

Done and done.

Spider sequence? I don't know that one.

Yeah, it'll be fun. Come on.

We're clear.

They're on the run. Come on.

Admiral!

It's fake.

-This way. -I don't think your blaster

will cut through these.

That was easy.

- What now? - More doors?

This one's on you, MEAD, if they haven't already

-locked you out. -Hey, man. You got this.

You've got the fingers, cross 'em.

Whoa, little scan shiver there.

Dark matter.

Never installed. We have to go without it.

Use a diversion, Friz.

What the hell is that?

A choo-choo?

Open it.

Get up. Come on.

- Let's go. - We've got to close

these blast doors and scramble the code.

Tam!

-End of the road. -Run!

She's right, Friz. Come on.

Bad idea, robot.

MEAD. Help me.

Let her go.

Really?

I expected more from you than a fake flamethrower.

Yeah, who said it was fake?

You've already been deleted.

Now, you just have to die.

No!

Now that was the real thing.

And so is this.

Now, it's your turn.

What are you waiting for? Get him!

They're taking you apart as we speak.

It's over.

Why don't you die, robot?

Oh, Friz.

Can you make it?

I'll try.

Hurry, I think this corridor is about to go.

So, we've been running ever since.

I was hurt pretty bad,

but MEAD nursed me back to health.

Well, I'm no doctor.

So, Tam was real.

She died saving us.

We wouldn't have made it without her.

I'm sorry.

Melville wrote, "The whale took Ahab's leg

"as a mower a blade of grass."

So, this is your Ahab's leg?

- That's disgusting. - For once,

I enthusiastically agree with you.

Maybe you're not the ruthless killers you're made out to be.

Maybe you're not the heartless bitch

you make yourself out to be.

I wouldn't count on that.

If story time's over, children, we need to go.

- Now. - Suggestions?

We won't make it out of the solar system

on conventional fuel. We need dark matter.

We can go anywhere, and much faster.

All right, what are you thinking?

A Saturn moon? Titan, maybe?

Too far. Jupiter is our only hope.

A Ganymede or Io outpost may have what we need.

Whoa, didn't you hear me say your friend is heading there?

That's all the more reason.

- Pick a moon. - Okay, Ganymede.

Ganymede it is.

Bitch.

I don't think she's 100 percent behind the plan.

Yeah.

"Leap.

"Leap up, and lick the sky.

"I leap with thee; I burn with thee;

"would fain be welded with thee;

"defyingly I...

"worship thee?"

-Admiral Gillette. -Sternhagen.

Our new fighters are ready. Pilots trained.

We can bring the MEAD 3 in and--

Do not bring in. Destroy.

Those were not my orders, sir.

Command wants to make sure the deceptor

is properly dismantled.

Oh, it'll be dismantled.

I'll see to that personally.

No.

Well?

Okay, I lose the bet. She didn't steal the shuttle.

Yeah, I told you she wasn't that bad.

That remains to be seen.

I know what I'm doing.

It's a trap, you know.

Yeah, but choice do we have?

Look, if you and the robot want to get yourselves killed,

that's one thing.

I'd rather not, if you don't mind.

You've got to trust me.

I don't trust anybody.

Neither should you.

I don't.

Uh, sorry to interrupt again.

-Again? -But we're approaching Ganymede.

Gotcha.

Yeah, here's the new approach sequence.

That's some weird shit, Friz.

All right, you want to go back to the duck?

You are a cruel, cruel man.

Sky sequence teddy it is.

So humiliating.

Yeah, showtime.

You read the brief?

I didn't realize the extent of the deceptor's capabilities.

My people aren't quite up to speed on--

They'd better learn quick.

The MEADs are like nothing they've ever experienced.

Why risk a raid here?

Dark matter.

I thought the MEADs were equipped with DM drives.

They are.

They need the fuel pods.

And I've got three in the hold of my ship.

Why go after yours?

Because they're mine.

Sounds personal.

You might say that.

Your attaché delivered this at 0600.

You say the device blocks MEAD illusions.

It's performed well in simulations...

but it has to be tuned to a specific individual.

And that individual would be?

Me.

I'll be your men's eyes, their ears.

No one so much as presses a button without my say so.

Your say so?

You got a problem with that?

No, sir.

This project is need to know only.

And that's all you need to know.

517 to standard control.

517 to standard control.

316 report to control.

You know, Spunkmeyer,

command's looking over our shoulder today.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I heard.

Big stuff going on.

Listen, I'm just two days left

- until my next review. - Oh, here we go.

And a five-star general visiting means

no idle chatter on the comms, no stupid jokes,

and for the love of God, no limericks.

Hey.

Breaks the monotony.

I am not getting dogged out

so you can rhyme something with "Nantucket."

Holy Mary, Mother of God.

What are you going on about?

Holy Mary, Mother of God.

Well, it's got to be some kind of marketing stunt.

Hey, it's, uh, it's like a parade thingy.

You know, like a Thanksgiving Day--

You have got to be kidding me.

The teddy bear, though. It's cute.

We going to report it?

No, "we" aren't.

Oh, man.

That's cold-blooded.

General, uh, Sternhagen, sir?

What is it?

Sky control here.

Uh, scans detect an incoming object

from the Northeast.

The MEAD ship?

-Tell him! -Would you--

I-- I am telling him.

Uh...

not exactly.

Sir.

It's big.

Uh, about 40 meters tall,

floating about 200 meters high

and approaching the command tower.

You should have a visual out your north window.

They seem to be approaching the west hangar block.

Let's see what your fighters can do.

F1 Mitchell.

Moving in to engage the...

target.

It's not all tactical, though. We have a visual.

Stand by.

Correction.

Moby's a ghost.

Oh, my.

What the hell is that?

Uh, Juno Base,

a dinosaur just materialized on deck.

Please advise.

Gillette here.

It's an obvious illusion for the MEAD ship.

Firing on target.

It's a mirage, I tell you.

Your mirage is eating my ship, Admiral.

Whoa! Mayday! I'm losing control.

Going down. Repeat, we're going down!

Let's get out of here, Parker.

Squadron leader, listen up. You're still in the air.

Your men are morons.

Squadron leader is down.

This is F2 Lieutenant Reed and Gunner Stewart taking point.

Lieutenant, we have incoming. Airborne at 11 o'clock.

-Airborne? -Roger that.

Three big-ass birds at 11 o'clock.

Closing in.

What are you smoking, Stew?

Birds?

This man does not know his pterosaurs.

What's a terror sore? Terror?

Pterodactyls?

Late Cretaceous flying dinosaurs.

Oh.

I'm just going to go with big-ass birds.

Somewhere, a science teacher weeps.

Stew, can you get 'em off of us?

I'll try.

Closing the hangar dome!

Get that thing off of us!

I'm trying to get us airborne!

You're not even phasing in at all.

Control, we need backup now!

Careful, Friz.

Easy, pal. Nobody's getting hurt.

This looks really unsafe to me.

Just keep your eye on the prize

and leave the entertainment to me.

This bird should be Swiss cheese.

F3, a little help?

Roger F2. Moving in to assist.

I am Timmy, the Wunderbot.

Defender of the nine planets.

We got another problem.

Entering battle mode.

Timmy to Space Force.

Battle stations! Battle stations!

Eat my blue death rays.

Eat my blue death rays.

Die, alien scum!

Ah...

Timmy was my favorite toy as a kid.

Timmy is still your favorite toy.

Yeah.

Resistance is pointless.

Permission to engage?

Eat my blue death rays.

Sensors indicate you have a rocket in your pocket.

Bring it down. Now.

Daisy, Daisy,

give me your answer do...

Oops.

We can't see through the smoke. What happened?

We, uh, we broke a few windows, sir.

Die, alien scum.

Timmy the Wunderbot.

I can't keep 'em busy much longer, MEAD.

Booty's in this hangar.

Crack it open, but be careful. That stuff's volatile.

Eh, sit back, relax, and watch the master at work.

Sorry.

It's okay.

See? No worries.

We're all going to die. You know that, right?

Those alarms are coming from the hangars.

Then stop playing around with these illusions

and get your men over there!

Now what?

Is that our backup?

Yeah, I don't think your review is going to go so good.

- What now, Friz? - Stash those pods

and get us the hell outta here.

You don't think we hurt anyone?

- Just go! - Okay, okay.

- You see? Nobody died. - Yet.

Damn it!

Parker, weren't we just standing on sand

next to our crashed, burning ship?

Yup.

And now we're flying.

Yup.

Okay, then.

It was all fake, boys.

What about the south tower Timmy crushed?

F3, on our way. What do you see?

Timmy's gone.

Where's the debris?

Will you look at that?

The hangars.

They're the only thing still burning.

Admiral Gillette's ship!

Get me coffee.

Decaf?

Yeah.

Forget it. Bogey is absconded.

Uh, General, uh, Sternhagen, sir?

Report!

Oh, he's pissed.

Uh, Admiral Gillette, sir...

-Oh, you're brave. -Shut up.

Come again, private?

Oh, uh, not you, sir.

Uh, your ship is, uh,

kinda...

broken.

What?

And they got away with the dark matter pods, too.

Get me to Achilles.

F5 squadron leader Diaz, here.

Taking point position.

I'm almost impressed.

- What's our status, MEAD? - After we install

dark matter, we're good for the next century.

May I say, sir, your illusions were epic.

We do rock, don't we?

Shouldn't we just install the dark matter now?

We have to power down to do that.

Got to put some distance between us and them first,

so, full steam ahead, if you would, sir.

Already there.

We'll be okay.

-I hope you're right. -I am.

He is.

- Right. - I am.

He is.

- Better be. - Heard that.

I'm flying.

- We get it, pal. - I'm flying!

Your robot has profound issues, bud.

Officer on deck.

At ease. Status report.

We've a pretty good idea of their 20.

Our fighter squadron is assuming intercept position.

Once the fighters neutralize the MEAD unit,

we'll pull them in.

You sound pretty confident, mister.

Yes, sir. We've been in war games all year.

Just give us the word.

Grab that case.

Listen up.

The MEAD unit is going to mess with your mind.

This helmet blocks their illusions.

So, ignore your lying eyes and follow my orders.

Is that clear?

Yes, sir.

Carry on.

Something's bothering me, Admiral.

Now what would that be, General?

The MEAD unit is a priority one threat.

Priority one.

It has traditional weapons beyond deceptor capabilities.

Guns, laser ordinance.

State of the art.

So, why hasn't it fired a single shot?

Cheers.

This is really good.

Darjeeling.

Honey, lemon, just the way I take it.

An illusion?

So, what about Tamera?

Oh.

What about her?

Are you satisfied with an illusion?

Define illusion.

And, for that matter, satisfaction.

Reality is vastly overrated.

Wouldn't you prefer a real woman?

She'd have to surprise me.

Surprised?

I'm so out of here.

-Slut. -Knock it off, MEAD.

Show me Tam.

Loading data for Tam.

Gentlemen, gentleness...

gentle sex.

Oh, won't be needing that one.

You're a good boy.

Gentlewoman.

Gentress.

I hope I'm pronouncing that right.

Emotional information

confuses my neural pathways.

Sorry.

That's how I'm programmed.

We'll give you a better voice.

You sound like a robot.

But I am a robot.

No, MEAD. You're much more.

Just-- just reprogram it

and make it learn how to follow orders.

It doesn't work like that.

He has a mind of his own, now.

It's not a he. He's gonna get me decommissioned.

We wouldn't want you to lose your job.

No, no, no, it'll be way worse than that

if that stupid robot doesn't learn how to do what they want.

Like it or not, you and MEAD are equals.

He's your partner. You're a symbiote.

-Act like it. -No, we're not equals.

It's a robot. And it's nothing without me.

Maybe you're nothing without him.

You had no right.

Was she wrong?

No, she wasn't.

We're being tailed and it's really, really big.

- Okay, what is it? - It's him.

You know, the guy with his thing.

- What do we do? - What we always do.

-Mess with their heads. -I'm telling you, it's him.

The guy with the thing?

Ugh.

Battleship Achilles. Four fighters.

And as our guest has most brilliantly deduced,

commanded by our friend, Admiral "Oh, look,

"somebody chopped off my hand."

Yeah, I guess we're really popular.

You got anything?

- A little five card MEAD? - Oh, can I cheat?

-Always. -What are you two talking about?

Our fighters are closing in on the target, sir.

- Squadron. Report. - Diaz here.

In position and ready to engage.

Four ready, scanning for vectors.

Target is blank.

Trust my eyes this time.

Uploading targeting coordinates.

You heard the man, Diaz.

They're out there.

We'll find 'em.

Achilles, we've got something.

A moon, maybe a small planet.

And it lines up with your target coordinates, Achilles.

Of course it does.

I've got a glitch on my weapons array.

What kind of glitch, Henderson?

Never mind. Target locked.

You, uh, seeing what I'm seeing?

Uh, that's no moon.

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

Step right up, gentlemen.

Jokers are wild and ace is high.

Where you boys from? Cleveland?

My aunt Netty is from Cleveland.

Speaking of my auntie, ante up.

What's going on out there, Diaz?

Nothing up my sleeve, see?

Got no sleeves, so you know I'm on the level, capiche?

- Sternhagen. - Sir.

Why have my ships stopped advancing?

Admiral, the squadron has encountered an obstacle.

Probably a MEAD illusion.

Of course, it's an illusion.

Okay then.

Whoa, babies.

You're such a cheater.

Am not.

What are the odds of a royal flush?

649,739 to one.

- Uh-huh. - Friz said I could!

I did.

Right.

Betting it all, eh? Dealer takes.

No cards. Think you're bluffing.

He thinks we're bluffing?

None of this is real, Henderson. Stay on point.

Wing commander.

You are seeing an illusion projected by the MEAD ship.

Get on with it!

Affirmative. We're on it.

Read 'em and weep.

Royal flush and dealer takes all.

Man, I am good.

A bit over the top, don't you think?

You. Are. Jealous.

Okay, enough of this nonsense.

Here we go.

Aw, don't be sore, boys.

Here's a full house for you.

What can we do when all we see is this?

-It's worse than being blind. -Instruments don't see any of it

and they don't see the MEAD, either.

And how do we know the projections

don't affect our instruments?

We don't.

Nope, you don't.

Everything's changing again. Hang on.

Giant alien cocoons?

No, it's, like, giant packing peanuts.

Fra-gee-lay.

- Is that enough postage? - Nope.

Postage due is the ultimate insult

and I happen to be in that kind of headspace.

What are your orders, sir?

Jackass Drive.

Military conduct, gentlemen.

-Sir. -Opinion.

Russell, do we fire on an illusion?

We brought down the robot at Juno base.

Because the MEAD let it.

There is nothing to fire upon. Punch through.

Diaz, you have your orders.

Ten-four. Achilles says we punch through,

we punch through.

Squadron in position and ready to fire on your mark.

Heat 'em up.

Squadron ready to fire, admiral.

Go ahead. Fire.

Idiots.

You might accidentally hit something.

Now, that's fireworks.

You've got to be kidding me.

Boys, There's a new sheriff in town.

I'm calling you stinkin', no good, sidewindin',

foreflushin', slumguzzlin', fiddlehead scallywags out.

I reckon this system ain't big enough for the both of us.

Draw!

Unless you're chicken.

He wants us to shoot.

We believe the deceptor is drawing our fire, Achilles.

Give it to them.

All ships, fire on the target.

My pleasure.

Wait a second.

Fire on that target, mister.

That's an order.

Roger that.

You just dumped our fuel pod.

What the...

Switched the buttons on us.

I got nothing. We're dead.

Emergency life support online.

Oh, vitamins. Don't mind if I do.

They're coming, Friz.

MEAD, quit playing around and get us gone.

Suckers.

To infinity and, uh, you know, far away from here.

It's been real.

It's been fun. But not real fun.

Bye now.

They got the best of us, Achilles.

They're all yours.

Copy that.

Perry, slow down so we can pull them in.

Aye, sir. Aligning for rescue intercept.

Leave them.

Continue pursuit.

Those are my men, Admiral.

Was my order not clear, General?

Fighter squadron.

Sending Juno to sweep you guys up.

Acknowledged.

Heat signature. MEAD ship on the move again.

They won't get far on conventional fuel.

Stay close and keep them busy.

Uh, busy, sir?

When they stop to switch to dark matter,

we'll blast 'em to kingdom come.

-Got it? -Oh.

Align weapons along their last trajectory.

Let's make 'em sweat.

- Aye, sir. - Hail the MEAD ship.

Aye, sir.

Are you sure that's a good idea?

On speaker.

Curly's barbecue.

I'm going to give you one last chance

to turn yourselves in.

Yeah, that's-- that's not going to work for us, Admiral.

MEAD?

I think we should send him a nice fruit basket.

You can't win this.

Give up now and I might go easy on you.

I'm sure you'll catch us singlehandedly.

It's your funeral.

Not today, Admiral.

Please hang up and try again.

Gunner.

Adjust weapons intensity.

Sir?

- Full power. - Admiral?

But, sir, that would obliterate them, sir.

30 degrees starboard, ten down,

and don't trust your damn eyes.

-Clear the bridge. Lock it down. -Aye, sir.

I'll tell you when, I'll tell you where,

all you do is pull the trigger.

- Aye, sir. - Aye, sir.

Oh, how foundling fire,

thou hermit immemorial,

thou too hast thy incommunicable riddle,

thy unparticipated grief.

Orders were to take them alive, Admiral.

I give the orders now.

God bless America.

God bless planet earth.

You're all going to be heroes.

- Why are we stopping? - Fuel's low.

We need to switch to dark matter.

Are you kidding me? We don't have time.

- They're right behind us. - We have plenty of time.

Are you crazy? We don't have time!

They're right behind us!

MEAD's right. We have to switch power soon.

They're trying to run us dry before we can switch.

- We've got to lose them. - Yeah, um...

- alter course to throw them off. - I already have, twice,

but they're staying with us somehow.

Great, so, just stay calm.

We'll do what we do best.

How about a nice meteor shower?

We like meteor showers.

Yeah, do that.

Great, uh, okay, uh, MEAD, go full defense mode.

We're going to throw everything we've got at them.

Let 'em have it.

-Whoa. -I know, right?

- Meteor shower! - Evasive--

Negative. It's fake. MEAD ship dead ahead!

Brace for impact.

Damage reports coming in from decks 14 through 17.

There is no damage. Stay on course.

I hope you know what you're doing.

Get with the program, General! Sending coordinates!

Keep firing on the target!

- What target? - Do it!

Okay, it's just a flesh wound.

Let's put out the fire and return the favor.

-Is he okay? -Yeah, he's fine.

Plasma ordinates changing course.

-Coming back at us, general! -That's impossible.

You will address me, Gunner.

I'm in command here.

Maintain course! Prepare to fire again!

Hull breach on the centrifuge.

Damage and casualty reports coming in

from starboard levels 22 through 31.

Ignore them and man your weapons.

-Keep firing. -I need coordinates.

There! There!

They'll send them right back at us.

All decks calling in. Canceling damage reports.

Because there is no damage.

It's all fake.

What is that?

Ah, I almost feel sorry for them.

- No. - Ah, come on.

Friz.

Wormhole.

Want us to shoot at that?

Is that fake, too, admiral?

You've got to put a stop to this, now.

Stand down, General.

Back me up or get off my bridge.

Full forward.

Oh, come on.

Okay, okay.

It's got us by the centrifuge.

We'll roll over.

Shut down centrifuge rotation and reset artificial gravity!

I'm trying!

What in God's name?

It's eating us!

Hang on!

Fire down it's throat.

Did we get them?

No.

They're still out there.

Just empty space on my tactical.

I can get us above the rings, Admiral.

Might give us a better view.

Do it.

There.

My screens are blank.

- Mine too. - Dead ahead!

We can't fight like this.

Nobody's trained for this kind of combat.

Stand down.

-Coward. -This is insane.

Sight? Sound?

We can't even trust our instruments.

Call it off, Admiral. Let it go.

I smell a court martial

when we return to Ganymede, Sternhagen.

Your prerogative, Admiral.

Now fire, damn you!

Whoa!

That was way too close.

It's the thing. The device.

One of them is tipping off the others.

Yeah, well, we're thinking too big, all right?

We-- we-- we can't beat their ship,

so we have to beat them.

We're still coming.

What have you got for me?

We've got to show Gillette for the monster that he is.

This one is new.

Closing in, Admiral.

I've locked in your last set of coordinates, sir.

Sir?

Sir?

Perry...

you seeing this?

Hm?

-Nope. -Me neither.

-They're getting closer. -I know.

He can't take much more of this.

Grundersnatch. From Beast Battalion 3.

-The video game? -Level 14.

Oh, God, it stinks.

-I'm going to throw up. -Ow!

What are you looking at?

Russell!

Get back to your post.

Keep firing, you idiot!

It's no good, Admiral.

One helmet is not enough.

We need to abort. Now.

Ugh, how can an illusion stink like that?

Oh, God. It's getting mad.

It's standing up.

Are you okay?

Lost my primary power cells.

I can still project, but I can't move.

-The dark matter. -I can hook it up.

-Are you sure? -Let me help.

The crates are too heavy for her to move by herself.

All right, well, I'll go with her.

Are you kidding? I need you here.

The vitamin.

-What? -The canister in the airlock.

-From the Juno fighter. -Okay, MEAD, what do you think?

It's dark matter. It should work.

All right. Go. I'll keep 'em busy.

Friz?

Have a little faith. Come on, buddy, I've got a plan.

You see? Direct hit!

We got 'em! There!

Right there! Sitting ducks!

-Perry, call security. -Aye, sir.

Russell, keep an eye on that thing.

- My pleasure, sir. - Security to the bridge.

All right, the squid monster is working, but we've got to

sink this battleship once and for all.

And speaking of sinking ships, what do you think about this?

Oh, that's good.

You do the honors. First mate, full steam ahead.

Damn the torpedoes.

Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo-doo!

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo!

Iceberg dead ahead!

There's a ship approaching at ramming speed!

What ship?

-Hard to starboard! -I can't turn in time!

Brace for impact!

Phoebe, how're we doing down there?

Just dandy. Where's the power conduit?

Big doors under the E.V.M. Hurry!

This thing's heavy, you know.

Go, girl.

Risk your life for two morons

who fly to Ganymede into an obvious trap

to attack a fully armed military base

with dinosaurs and toy robots.

Heard that.

It's gone.

Damage reports rescinded on all decks.

She needs help, MEAD. Get Tam down there, now!

Power down the main coil before connecting the D.M. pod.

-Get lost. -Otherwise--

A sudden, unexpected power surge may occur.

Go!

Get us out of here, MEAD!

You don't have to tell me that twice.

Whoo, yeah! Ain't no stopping us now!

I am totally aroused.

Wait, you're what?

That might not be the word I was looking for.

Hey, still a bit woozy here.

Uh, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt on that one, pal.

Hey-- hey, Phoebe! Get up here! You did it!

On my way.

You're welcome.

I'm in command here, damn you.

It's over, Admiral.

They've got dark matter online.

We've got to blast them while we still can.

Delay that order.

I'm pulling the plug on this nightmare right now.

I'll see you hanged.

I'll take my chances.

That goes for me, too.

Ditto.

I'm taking command here.

Arrest this man.

Yes, sir.

A deceptor.

Drop it! Drop it!

Hold your fire.

Move over there.

One stray blast could end this party pretty quick.

Pretty darn quick, don't you think?

Move away from that console.

Away!

The ship is suffering substantial power loss.

The elevator may malfunction.

But the ladder still works.

Will you please control alt delete yourself?

Of course. This sequence is terminated.

I hate you.

MEAD, evasive! Get us out of here!

Friz, I'm hit.

Yeah, just hang in there, pal. Can you do that?

MEAD? MEAD?

It's bad, Friz.

How bad?

Die! Die, you son of a bitch!

You fools! Holster that firearm.

You'll kill us all!

"He burst his hot heart's shell."

Chapter 41.

I'm sorry, I did not mean to kill you.

I did not mean to kill you,

but my God, you're a raving lunatic.

Who-- who quotes Melville with a hole in their chest?

General, it's all our fault.

This is what we deserve.

Couldn't have said it better.

I don't know how, pal, but we got 'em.

It's bad, Friz.

Systems are failing, Friz.

Blacking out...

can't keep up the illusion.

Hey, just-- No, no, no. Just stay with me, okay?

You're going to be okay.

I'm sorry, Friz.

I'm dying. Friz, I'm dying.

No, you're not going to die.

I'm afraid. Afraid.

Don't be afraid. I'm here.

I'm so-- so-- so-- sorry--

sorry-- so-- sorry about the girl.

Don't worry about that, pal.

Don't go.

Good... bye... Friz.

MEAD?

MEAD?

What happened?

MEAD.

He's offline.

Friz.

We can still get away. They're hurt worse than we are.

No.

They're not.

Gillette.

Plasma grenade.

It can still work.

Once he's better,

MEAD will bring back the illusion.

MEAD's dead.

Dead.

It's over.

It's over. It's all over.

Don't.

We have to turn ourselves in.

You're right.

You're right, you should go.

You can't stay here.

Yes, I can.

Take the E.V.M.

Now leave.

Leave! Now!

Take Gillette's hand. I don't want it anymore.

I'm sorry, Friz.

Goodbye.

It's been real.

I'm nothing without you.

I'm nothing without you.

MEAD?

MEAD?

I'm nothing without you.

She's gone, Friz.

You're alive.

Sorry if I was overdramatic.

-I-- I didn't account for-- -I thought we were toast.

Well, the dark matter gave me just enough energy

to reboot my power grid.

You can do that?

Who knew, right?

I-- I did repairs while you were out.

Well, place looks great.

You had me worried, buddy.

So, Phoebe saved us?

Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

Yeah, I'll miss her.

No, you won't.

Not for a minute.

Friz, I heard what you said.

What'd I say?

I'm the one who'd be nothing without you.

Thanks, pal.

You stupid, google-eyed marshmallow.

She was real, wasn't she?

Yeah, that she was.

And me?

Just another one of our damn illusions.

That makes two of us.

All right, now's not the time, pal.

Can you just please end Tam sequence?

Uh, it's not a sequence.

What do you mean it's not a sequence?

Tell him.

Well, while you were out

I sort of cut her loose.

Cut her loose?

He doesn't control me anymore. Neither do you.

She's like me now. Bonified A.I.

Don't know why it never occurred to me before.

Jealousy, maybe?

No, and again, no.

Yeah, but she's not, like, the real Tam, though, right?

Au contraire, mon frêre,

she was initially assigned as a proxy symbiote

during my early development,

so her cerebral scans were recorded

and uploaded into all three deceptor units.

Enter me to screw it all up.

This dramatically altered the temperament of all of us.

We inherited her conscience.

That's why we were all decommissioned.

MEAD wouldn't kill, so--

It's all my fault.

You tried to save us.

It was the least I could do.

And you knew you would die trying.

Those are my calculations, yes.

So, I made it aboard MEAD in a scientific, creative way.

Huh.

- Ugh. - Thanks again.

I'm back from the dead. Does that creep you out?

Kind of, yeah.

So, this new Tamera is, uh...

she's the-- the same as the old Tamera?

Oh, much better. New and improved.

She can disobey to your heart's content.

God help you.

I can disobey you, too.

We should redecorate.

Hardwood floors. More plants.

-A throw rug. -Uh, my controls.

Don't be such a control freak, Friz.

I have good ideas too, you know.

Oh, what have I done?

-So, what are you thinking? -I'm thinking we got lucky.

I'm thinking next time, they're all going to have

those helmets and I'm thinking they're going to be

pretty pissed off at me for busting up the Achilles.

Big galaxy, and we've got dark matter.

Well, what do you want to do?

Yeah, Friz. What do you want to do?

Let's go somewhere.

And action!

You're thinking about her.

Well, she's looking at prison. Possibly a death sentence.

-You've got to be kidding.

It's the last thing they'd expect.

You're serious?

I'm telling you, this is a bad idea.

Spectacularly bad.

Look, I know you're both right.

What are we going to do?

We're going to Ganymede.

I am Timmy the Wunderbot.

Defender of the nine planets.

Eat my blue death rays.