All language subtitles for Star.trek.discovery.S02E04.VERSION ORIGINALE.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

WWW.MY-SUBS.COM

Previously on Star Trek: Discovery:

My captain.

My friend.

Gone.

It is our ruling that the defendant
be stripped of rank

and hereby sentenced
to imprisonment for life.

The only other female Michael
I ever heard of was the mutineer.

You're not her, are you?

The Michael Burnham on my ship.

Eight thousand
one hundred and eighty-six.

I would like to extend an official
invitation to you to join the Discovery.

We are creating a new way to fly.

An organic propulsion system.

Hold tight.

You're in Ilari. The moons of Andoria.

All those planets, all those places,
and you're home like it never happened.

What could do this to a dozen Klingons?

Run.

Set phasers to kill!

So, is our new guest settled in?

Snug as a bug in a rug.

The Federation ships are hiding.

They pose no threat.

Open your hearts to the one
who delivered this great day.

T'Kuvma the Unforgettable!

You helped start a war.
Don't you wanna help me end it?

Burnham, Michael.

Temporary assignment
to science division,

U.S.S. Discovery.

Rank: None.

Uniform synthesis is complete.

Computer, cancel mirror.

You look smart.

It's a lot less scary
than your convict suit.

Like a clean slate, right?

It's not quite as easy as that.

Oh, this was sent for you.

You were in the shower
when the, um, ping went off. That's how--

I was fully clothed, so, I thought,
well, I'll save you a trip to the depot.

-Tilly.
-Yes. Less. Less extraneous words.

It's not gonna shut up till you open it.

Burnham, Michael.

Do you accept the last will and testament
of Captain Philippa Georgiou?

I'm sorry, I didn't know.

Michael Burnham to the bridge.

I'll see you in engineering.

Bridge. Direct.

As first officer,
I take pride in knowing every name

and assignment on the crew manifest.

You were to be
on the prison transport shuttle

that left yesterday.

Captain Lorca offered me an opportunity.

I can tell by your threat ganglia
that you weren't consulted.

The captain keeps his own counsel.

Had he inquired,

I'd have suggested the duty roster lacked
any opening for a mutineer.

"A valuable asset."

-That's what you called me.
-I was speaking hypothetically.

Politely.

And as someone who was certain
I would never see you again.

You can tell your threat ganglia to relax.

I'm only here to help.

My ganglia remain unconvinced.

Scanners. Expedite
my targeting sweep. Multi-spectrum.

- Laterals included.
- Aye, sir.

Scanners confirm
two Klingon Birds-of-Prey.

-Targets heading away at offset vectors.
-Main phasers to full.

-Take 'em out before they know we're here.
-Charging.

-Vectors received.
-We've been located and scanned.

Keep the warp engines topped hot.
Landry, we're waiting.

Solution calculated. Firing main phasers.

First target destroyed.

- Second Bird-of-Prey still in.
- Take it out!

-They're firing torpedoes.
-Shields to max.

-Diverting power.
-Commander.

We're all dead.

Very nice.

Very polite.

Discovery is now the only Starfleet ship

with a displacement-activated
spore hub drive.

Which means, when it's up and running,

we will be able to materialize anywhere
in the known universe.

Behind enemy lines,
above the Klingon homeworld.

Anywhere.

But we will be alone.

We will not have backup.

There's just us.

And we get one chance...

to get it right.

We'll do better next time, sir.

It would be hard to do worse.

Mr. Saru, run the simulation again.
And again.

- Burnham, with me.
- You heard the captain.

Computer, reload simulation.

Working.

We're the tip of the spear
in a science vessel

filled with wide-eyed explorers.

- You know what they need us to do?
- They need us to win.

They need us to survive, Burnham.

Wanna know how you're gonna
help me do that?

I'm happy to assist Lieutenant Stamets

-with the refinement of the spore drive.
-Said the xenoanthropologist.

I also studied quantum mechanics
at the Vulcan Science Academy, sir.

I know.
But I'm gonna put you to better use.

These are some of the deadliest weapons
in the galaxy.

I study war.

And this is where I hone my craft.

I try to learn from the best.

Here.

Now this I think you'll find
uniquely interesting.

You've met once before.

It has a natural aversion to light.

Same as me.

Why would you keep something
so dangerous onboard your own ship?

That thing killed a dozen Klingons
on the Glenn,

and there's not a scratch on it
from their bat'leths.

If we're gonna win this thing,

if we're gonna have a chance
of saving the Federation

and everyone in it,

we need the best weapons available.

So, what material is in a claw

that can shred the hull of a ship?

What's a hide made of that can withstand

the firepower of a phaser set to kill?

I need you to find out.

And weaponize it.

T'Kuvma, my lord,

it has been six months since your ship
was disabled and the war began.

We are left behind, in disrepair.

Your followers are hungry.

Help me guide them to nourishment.

You are an artist now?

This is the orbit of every object

we have scavenged through
in the debris field.

There are no Birds-of-Prey that we require
to restart our engines.

-There is one ship.
-We will not have this discussion again--

The Shenzhou is within range.

It may have been abandoned,

but it still has an intact
dilithium-processing unit.

This is the very ship that felled T'Kuvma.

To fuse its technology with our own
would be blasphemy.

You had no such outrage
when we ate its captain.

I saw your smile
when you picked the meat

from her smooth skull.

As T'Kuvma perished in my arms...

I swore to keep his fire lit.

To resist assimilation.

To lead his followers.

But now they slowly die of hunger
on this ghost ship.

His legacy dies with them.

I cannot allow it.

What good is purity

if it leads only to death?

My father was T'Kuvma's blood kin,

but my mother was House Mókai...

the watcher clan, the deceivers,
the weavers of lies.

When I was a child,

she gave me a bat'leth

and told me to cleave my own heart.

To choose one house over the other.

Instead...

I built a bridge to serve both.

Now it is your turn to build,

to go into that graveyard

and bring back
the Shenzhou's processing unit

for the good of your people.

You must go to that ship.

Scans indicate a diet
likely based on foraging for vegetation

or other passive means
of obtaining nutrition.

Lorca thought you and I
would make a good team.

Your science. My tactics.

Together we can deal
with Lorca's little monster.

How do you know it's a monster,
Commander?

Because I've seen what it's capable of.

So have you.

Let's call it Ripper.

That's what it looks like.

That's what it does.

Your Ripper...

appears to share some natural traits
with the Tardigrade species,

a docile creature
that lives in the waters of the Earth.

A micro-animal capable of surviving
extreme heat and subfreezing temperatures.

Did you say "microscopic"?

-In our case, somehow, macroscopic.
-Huh.

How did it get on the Glenn?

All the recent logs were corrupted.

But the Glenn's captain
made an earlier entry

that security detected a stowaway.

There was no hull breach.

And no unregistered microbiota
in the transporter's pattern buffer.

But this was found rummaging around
in the lower cargo decks.

We need to find something
Lorca can use on this thing.

Poison sacs, pain inducers, rage glands.

You judge the creature by its appearance.

And by one single incident from its past.

Nothing in its biology suggests
it would attack,

except in self-defense.

Commander...

this creature is an unknown alien.

It can only be what it is...
and not what you want it to be.

It's amazing how much I hate
Vulcan proverbs.

You're new here,

so let me share a piece of wisdom.

Lorca isn't interested in what you are.

He's interested
in what you can do for him.

And if he needs us to make that thing
useful in his war effort...

that's what we're gonna do.

Admiral Cornwell.

I didn't realize you were eating, Captain.

Excuse the breach of protocol.

We just received a distress signal
from the planetoid Corvan 2,

-a mining colony--
-Near the Aneto system. I know it.

-Sending it through now.
-We're under Klingon attack.

Our patrol ships
have been destroyed.

Our magnetic shields
are degrading under bombardment.

They will fail in six hours.

- Daddy!
- Find cover!

- I can't find Andy!
- We need immediate evacuation.

- We need immediate evacu--

Corvan 2 generates 40 percent
of the Federation's dilithium.

If the pipeline's cut off,
that's half the fleet grounded.

The Klingons ambushed the blockade
that was protecting the colony,

and now the closest Federation ship
is 84 hours away.

Yours is the only ship in the fleet
with a chance of getting there on time.

Is the Discovery ready to jump?

I told you we'd be ready when you called,
and we are.

Discovery's made dozens of small jumps
with no issues.

We can make it the full distance.

You have no doubts?

None.

-No way we'll be ready to jump that far.
-Told me you knew why the Glenn failed.

The Glenn crashed into an undetectable
Hawking radiation firewall

when it exited from a mycelial plane.

As a result,
all the biologicals onboard spun out.

You can prevent that
from happening again, right?

- Yes.
- So what's the problem?

Captain, as I've explained to you,
every time we try a long jump,

we lose navigational stability.

Remember? Jumping is probabilistic.

The longer the jump,
the more possible outcomes.

I get it. It's trial and error.
Let's try something.

We lack the processing power
to make the requisite number

-of calculations to hold a course.
-What were they doing that we're not?

We took this tech from Straal's lab
on the Glenn.

It was an augmentation
to their navigation system.

I've incorporated it into our drive unit.

But it won't load completely.

To function optimally,

it would appear to require
some kind of supercomputer.

-Must've missed that on the Glenn.
-Sir...

being chased by a lethal monster

in a death trap surrounded
by Klingon bodies is distracting,

but, no, I would've noticed
an extra supercomputer.

That's just me.

What's that thing?

That thing is what we took off the Glenn.
It interacts with the spore drive somehow,

but I think it's missing a part.
I can't get it to activate.

In exactly five hours,
49 minutes and 46 seconds,

the Klingons will take Corvan 2.

Captain, this can't be rushed.

You listen to me, Mr. Stamets.

They need us. Now.

There are some things I could try
to extend the jump range.

Get it done.

You're welcome.

Kol.

What is the reason
for your welcome visit?

The last time I was here,

on the eve of the war,

I hurled disrespect.

Now I come with humility.

T'Kuvma teaches that
in a united Klingon Empire,

no one kneels but our foe.

Wise words.

But words don't win wars.

Your house's ship
has what no one else has:

cloaking technology

that can crush Starfleet.

We need you back in the fight.

We have scavenged the dead vessels
floating around us in the graveyard

left by our battle with Starfleet.

Six months since that fight,
we are almost operational again.

But we still lack a dilithium processor.

We are almost out of food, too.

But as T'Kuvma taught us...

what belongs to House T'Kuvma...

belongs to House Kor.

May the words of your messiah,
our messiah,

also sustain us.

Remain Klingon!

Remain Klingon!

Captain, be advised,
the spore drive is online and primed.

Primed? Can you control
where we're going or not?

It's possible, maybe even likely, but--

Done. Open shipwide communication.

Yes, Captain.

Attention all personnel. Stealth protocol.

Run silent. Black alert.

Black alert. Black alert.

All crew to battle stations.

Be ready for whatever's
on the other side of that jump.

-Disengage shields.
-Shields are offline, standing by.

Loading spores into the drive.

-Drive?
-Excess energy cavitation initiated.

Tactical. Reroute all available power
from impulse over to phasers.

-Weps are double hot.
-Engineering?

Spore drive is online.

Plot destination for Corvan 2.

At your pleasure, Captain.

Go.

Sensors indicate external temperature of--

They went offline. It's too hot.

That is not Corvan 2.

- No, sir, it is not.
- Stuck in a gravity well

of an O-type star. Collision is imminent.

Collision is not an option.

Shields up. Full reverse.

Wrong off-ramp, Lieutenant Stamets?

My nav buffer overloaded.
I couldn't hold the plotting.

Ah!

Rear thrusters engaging.

We are... clear of the gravitational well.

Re-engage warp drive.

-Get us the hell out of Dodge, Mr. Saru.
-Aye-aye, Captain.

This had better be good.

-Lorca's on the warpath.
-Look.

The moment the spore drive came online,
the creature's central nervous system

showed micro-patterns of activity
in the frontopolar cortex.

You said it hates light.
Maybe it didn't wanna crash into the sun.

It reacted before we jumped.

I saw it cry out in distress.

It's more likely a connection
to the spore drive itself.

Don't see how that's relevant
to Ripper's aggression.

It may not be,

but it helps us understand its motives
and behavior.

Understanding how it feels
was not our mission.

Captain needs to know
how it fights and kills.

Lorca told me to keep you on track.

That your curiosity might lead you astray.

We're not letting him down.

Hold still or you'll wind up
looking like a Tellarite.

How's the patient, Dr. Culber?

Well,
I took care of the skull fractures first.

Another millimeter, the palatine bone
would've pierced his cortex.

The frontal lobe is overrated.

It only contains memory
and emotional expression.

It's completely unnecessary.

Well, I'll save it.

Just in case you might
wanna have a feeling one day.

Gentlemen.
Every starship, Klingon or Federation,

runs on dilithium crystals.

If we can't protect Corvan,
the war is lost.

So, can you fix the lieutenant's inability

to get our ship to go where
it's supposed to go?

I warned you, Captain.

Time is an essential component
of good science.

Discovery is no longer a science vessel.

-It's a warship.
-That is not the mission I signed on for.

-I'm not a soldier.
-Well, then get off.

-Leave the ship.
-If I go, I'm taking everything with me.

My spores, my drive.

This entire ship was designed
around my scientific specialty.

Everything on this ship is the property
of Starfleet.

How do you wanna be remembered
in history?

Alongside the Wright Brothers,
Elon Musk, Zefram Cochrane?

Or as a failed fungus expert?

A selfish little man

who put the survival of his own ego
before the lives of others.

-Are you done?
-Well, you have some blood on your face.

And your hands, Lieutenant.
Get back to work. Fix the problem.

Uh, computer, open a shipwide hail.

Working.

Confirmed. Broadcasting shipwide.

Computer, play the audio transmissions
from Corvan 2.

This is my last message.

Another round of bombs just struck.

- Zaphod is dead.

Our bunker is collapsing.

Mommy, Mommy, wake up.

- Wake up.
- Please.

Save my children.

Anyone. Help them.

We've lost Mine Four and Mine Seven.

- Two hundred and ten souls.

All gone. Particulate venting is offline.

My team can't breathe.

I don't know if anyone is listening
to this,

but if you are...

- goodbye.

We're doing this.

Computer, release a localized
oneirogenic penthrane mist

into the containment pen.

-Wait, wait. Why are you sedating it?
-I'm gonna lop off its claw

so you can figure out what makes
this thing so good at killing Klingons.

I do not think that's a good idea.

We have no idea
what effect sedation may have on it.

And we've seen how it responds
to aggression.

Sedation protocol complete.

Computer, open containment pen.

Computer, lights to maximum.

Computer, seal containment pen.

Emergency transport. Sickbay.

Find a use for that creature.

Don't let her death be in vain.

Atmosphere pressurization complete.

Crew manifest accessed.

L'Rell.

There is nothing worth taking
on this deck,

or in the captain's ready room.

I have located the dilithium processor.

The coupling unit is covered
in crystal residue.

Unplugging the processor
could cause an explosion.

One sudden move
and we join the Black Fleet.

I will free it.

L'Rell, we do not always view things
the same way...

but I have come to know you

as one who is astute.

More astute than I.

Thank you, my lord.

Why do you call me that?

T'Kuvma made you his successor.

Surely you doubted his choice.

T'Kuvma barely knew me,

while you served at his side for years.

T'Kuvma saw something in you.

A purity of devotion.

I do not want the mantle of leadership.

Standing behind you, I am free to move.

Able to be your enforcer,
defender, campaigner.

I am fortunate to have you.

Shall we uncouple?

Thank T'Kuvma.

With this, our ship will fly.

Door.

I received your message.

What is it you so urgently need
my help with?

I've been thinking about the way
I treated you on the Shenzhou.

At times...

I was very unfair.

You often undermined me,
dismissed my opinions out of hand.

You wouldn't be wrong
to call me out for being selfish.

But I can't help notice that
your threat ganglia are quiet now.

Fascinating.

You're trying to gauge my response
to that thing in the pen.

Commander Landry was about
to attack the creature.

And I believe her death was...

an act of self-defense on its part.

And now, based on your lack
of threat response,

I'm ready to submit that the creature's
primary drive is not aggressive.

It's not a predator.

You have not changed an iota, Burnham.

Your contrite words were insincere.

They were necessary.

I was wrong to question your place
on the crew.

You will fit in perfectly
with Captain Lorca.

Why were you on the Glenn?

What were you looking for?

Spores are the thing the Discovery
and Glenn had in common.

Stamets would kill me if he knew
I was bringing these.

You should probably go.
I appreciate you taking the risk,

but this could be dangerous.

Unless we get the drive online,
we're not gonna make it to Corvan 2.

All those people are gonna die.

And I can't help them.

I can help you.

Stay back. Keep still.

I brought you something...

I think you might like.

If you don't, well...

they can blame whatever happens
on my curiosity.

Computer, open containment pen.

Hello.

These are Tilly's tricorder images
from our mission on the Glenn. Look.

The doors to the engineering room
were blown outward.

The shatter pattern of the reaction cube,
the destruction,

like something inside was going crazy.

A very big something.

Then there's excess shielding
surrounding the room.

It's as if the crew was trying
to keep something in.

What's your hypothesis?

That Straal was holding that thing
in his lab?

Captain's log said they found the creature
in their lower decks.

I remember you chided Straal
about not growing his own like you do.

You were talking about mushrooms.

They didn't have a forest on the Glenn
like Discovery has.

If they stored mushrooms dry,

it would have to be
in tremendous quantities.

In their lower stores. Right there.

Where the creature first appeared.

It entered the ship
in pursuit of the mushrooms.

Their spores, actually.

This ship's spore drive travels
on a network of mycelium

that's spread across the entire galaxy.
We just can't control where we go.

But maybe the Tardigrade can.

Straal said he found a way
to solve the navigation problem.

You said his modifications
needed a supercomputer, right?

What if its name is Ripper?

The phaser will only piss him off.

Think of it as a placebo
for my skepticism.

Energize.

My God, you're right.

Look how it interacts with the spores.

It's as if they're communicating.

My tricorder is detecting energy transfer.

Some form of symbiosis.

It is talking to them.

That hardly seems fair.

I always wanted to converse
with my mushrooms.

Not just converse.

Maybe even tell them where to go.

If we can figure out how to interact
with that tech from the Glenn,

we may be looking at our new navigator.

What is this?

Provisions. From my ship.

I provided some,

and your crew fell in line behind me.

The price of loyalty is low
for those who are starving.

You've failed.

You are as useless as you are ugly,
son of none.

T'Kuvma anointed me.

I am the Torchbearer.

And for that privilege,

you allowed a human
to extinguish his light.

The star of Kahless was lit by T'Kuvma.

The great houses are now together as one.

Only until we defeat the Federation.

Then we will divide again.

But your strange ship,

her crew, and cloaking technology

will now serve me.

I would sooner die.

It is yours, my lord.

Kill him.

I know a more fitting fate.

Dump him in the grave of our enemy.

Let's try this again.
Corvan 2. Black alert.

Black alert.

Mr. Stamets, are you ready?

Black alert.

Stand by, Captain.

Energize.

We just transported the Tardigrade
into the reaction cube.

The tech from the Glenn is activating.

This is every charted star system.

The Tardigrade is holding
all these coordinates in its head.

Course is set for Corvan 2.
We're ready to jump, sir.

Is anybody not ready?

Go.

Help!

Take cover!

Hold on!

- It's okay.
- Evacuate!

Targets one and two destroyed.

-Full stop.
-Captain?

Initiating full stop, Captain.

-Multiple Klingon vessels converging.
-Diverting nonessential power to shields.

Birds at 1000 kilometers and closing.

-Their phasers are locked.
-Hold tight, everybody.

-Steady.
-Shields holding at 80 percent.

Seventy-five. Sixty-five.

Engineering?

Spore drive is primed, Captain.

On my order.

Birds-of-Prey closing in
at 500 kilometers.

Shields at 30 percent.

Coordinates input.

Twenty.

-Captain.
-Lieutenant Stamets advises

-that the ship is ready to jump.
-I need them closer. Wait.

Let's send our Klingon friends a message
they won't forget.

And...

go.

Who saved us?

Commander Michael Burnham.
Vulcan Science Academy commencement, 2249.

- Recipient, Vulcan Science--

T'Kuvma, my lord.

They left me here to die

in the nest of the vermin
who took your life.

My faith tells me this is not the end.

My faith tells me this is not the end!

Voq.

You renounced me.

To save your life.

It won't be long before Kol realizes
I'm gone.

We need to go after them.
Make House T'Kuvma whole again.

They belong to Kol.

Now we must strategize
on a grander scale.

In order to convince the 24 houses
to follow T'Kuvma's teachings,

you must win this war.

Prove to all you are
the one true Torchbearer.

You speak as if you have a way.

I do.

I've stolen a raider, and will take you
to the home of the Mókai.

I will leave you with the matriarchs,

who will expose you to things
you never knew possible.

But it comes at a cost.

What must I sacrifice?

Everything.

Computer, open containment pen.

Hey.

You feeling better?

I brought you the good stuff.

I'm sorry.

Hi.

Long night, huh?

Everybody's talking about what you did.

You helped save many on that colony.

Seems like you're gonna have another
reputation to get used to.

It's probably none of my business, but...

my mother used to say, um...

That's not true. My mother never really
said anything to me

unless she was criticizing my hair.

But you...

I don't know, I just think...

if it made its way across the galaxy
to find you,

you should open it.

And you shouldn't be afraid to open it.

Because I watched you tame
the most incredible creature,

and, well...

you're not afraid of anything.

That's none of my business. Right?

Identity confirmed: Burnham, Michael.

Do you accept the last will
and testament

of Captain Philippa Georgiou?

I accept.

Hello, Michael.

I hope that wherever this finds you,
you are well.

I imagine you have
your own command now.

The captain of your own ship.

I have always tried
to show you by example.

The best way to know yourself

is to know others.

You are curious, an explorer.

So I am leaving you
my most beloved possession,

handed down through my family
for centuries.

My hope is that you will use it
to continue to investigate

the mysteries of the universe,

both inside and out.

And keep your eyes and heart open.

Always.

Goodbye, Michael.

And good luck.

Know that I am as proud of you
as if you were my own daughter.

Take good care.

But more importantly,

take good care of those in your care.