10x01 - Bort the Garj

[bunniefuu]

Altair Beta?

Why'd you wake me up
way the hell out here?

We picked up a distress beacon.

Not surprising.

Altair Beta's not
the best neighborhood.

Unless you're a Dri'n pirate.

Yeah, speaking of...

Looks like pirateshit that
transport pretty hard.

Well, what say we go
pick the bones?

I'd say, uh,
unfortunate choice of words.

Figuratively.
Hopefully.

Well, I'm in, but you know
what she's gonna say.

Why, does she talk in her sleep?

What? Mother, come on.
We can't not...

I mean, Lana's
the co-captain, so...

- So?
- Huh.

W-Well, should we
wake up anybody?

- Why would we?
- Good point.

Let's go check it out.

W-Wait, Mother.

Hang on.

Oh, for the...

You are disgusting.

Me?
He's the one wallowing in...

Oh, freeze-dried shepherd's pie.

Ugh! And banana pudding.

So, on the off chance

the pirates left
anything worth taking...

There's no sense cutting

the rest of those idiots
in on the deal.

Yeah, they'll just... Wait,

what do you mean,
"the rest of those idiots?"

- Hmm?-Are you implying I'm an idiot?

- No, I...
- Yes, you were.

I wasn't implying anything.
You...

Proximity alert.

Proximity alert.

Proximity alert.

- What the hell?
- Proximity alert.

- Idiot.
- Aha! See?

- You were implying it.
- I'm saying it!

Now can you please
just dock the damn thing?

- Yes.
- Nope!

- Here we go.
- Oh, goody.

And just what in my own
personal hell

-do you two think you're doing?-Well...

And don't insult my
intelligenceby lying to me.

Okay, then...

Never mind.

Damn it, Krieger, why'd you
have to wake her up?

You big-mouth... fish.

Don't call me fish!
And I didn't write my code,

- so don't yell at me.
- I'll do the yelling.

Great, that way we know
you're getting enough oxygen.

Now, somebody explain to me

why you're docking the ship
without permission.

- Permission?
- Look, we picked up a distress beacon,

and we thought, you know,
that we'd...

Leave us all in stasis
while you sneak in there

to loot whatever the
pirates might've left behind

in there, which...
Spoiler alert... is jack-sh*t

unless you're counting
the ionic charges

they left as booby-traps!

Well, you've clearly already
made up your mind, so...

Somebody tell me this is a joke.

Oh, what, you being first mate?
Sadly, no. Not a joke.

No, this. Which better not
be what it looks like.

That's better than
what it smells like.

- Huh?
- Which is a giant bag of assholes.

- What?
- Cyril, you reek.

No, I...

Is that shepherd's pie?

And banana pudding.

Damn it, Archer.

Did you fart in my
stasis pod again?

- Why, I oughta...
- You oughta wash off

that 'nana puddin'.

Stop touching me!
You stink!

Will you two knock it off?

- Yes.
- Ow!

Why do we even
serve shepherd's pie?

And, follow-up, why do we have

the world's loneliest
courtesan on board?

Seriously, though,

this whole place smells
like a fart sh*t its pants.

Did somebody say pants?

'Cause I'm not wearing any.

Because welcome
to the freak show.

What?
Said the bug zapper.

- Yeah, and speaking of.
- What?

We had a deal.

Yeah, come on, Mom.

Oh, all right.

- Happy?
- No, actually.

Because you two were about to
violate quarantine protocols,

possibly exposing my ship
to dangerous...

- It's not your ship!
- Half of it is.

Because I had
a shitty divorce lawyer.

Whose fault is that?

You're the one
who wanted a divorce!

When what I should've done
is just wait for you

to get m*rder*d by one of the
enemies you either owe money,

cheated, cuckolded,
straight-up stole from,

or some combination thereof.

Your point being?

Her point,
Captain Doctor Science,

is you can't expose
just half the ship

to potentially deadly
microorganisms.

Aha!
Potentially deadly.

I'm not having
this argument again.

Apparently you are.

- No, I'm not.

Aborting docking sequence.

Yes, you a...

- Damn it, Lana!
- Aborting docking seq...

- Krieger!
- Guys, come on.

We've been over and over
and over this.

The Laws of Robotics...

Is made-up sh*t
from a comic book.

- Sorry.
- Don't be. It had to be said.

What the sh*t?

Oh, my God.

- What is that?
- Oh, my God,

- what the hell... Whoa, whoa, whoa.
- Everybody, shh.

- Aah! - k*ll it! -Boy!

Whew.

Are...

Happy?

I'm... happy you're not.

What the hell was that thing?

I think the more pressing
question is...

No, Krieger,
for the millionth time,

- you'll never be a real boy.
- I was going to say...

I think it's more tragic
than anything.

You're one to talk.

- I was going to say...
- Ooh!

When will you be a real boy?

What the hell
was it running from?

Um...

Son of a...

Dri'n dak!
Dak txakurrak!

Oh, yeah?
You want some of this?

Ow!

I think they might, actually.

Dri'n bastards.
Krieger, blast door.

Yep, yep, yep.

- That oughta hold 'em. Okay...
- Hang on.

Shut up.
Krieger, undock us.

Cyril, Pam, Carol,
grab a w*apon,

split up, and find
that xenomorph.

For all we know
he's a Trojan horse.

- He was pretty rubbery.
- So stupid.

Right?

And if you can temporarily
de-ass your head,

want to get us out to here?

Why?
We can take these assholes.

- Hull damage.
- You were saying?

Hull damage.

Hull damage.

- Hull damage.
- I heard you.

Okay, Krieger, we clear?

Yep, yep, yep!

Okay then.

Everybody brace
for initial thrust.

In three...

- Whoa!
- God...

- Damn...
- Son of a...

- Bitch!
- Ow!

"Woooooo!!"

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no

no, no!

Can't have anything nice.

Never gets old, does it?

Nope.
Unlike some people.

Excuse me?!

Lana, handle your business.

There's a giant squeezy toy
on the loose.

I'll squeeze your... Damn it!

Got nothing.

Okay, keep your
crazy eyes peeled.

And watch your muzzle, will ya?

I'm not trying to get
blasted in the face.

- Well, I'm not trying to get slimed.
- What?

It's not a ghost, dumb-ass.

- How do you know?
- -Because nothing's a ghost.

Shh.

You open it on three.

Ready?

One...

Oh, for... You p*ssy.

You're supposed to belooking
for the damn xenomorph.

I'm checking
all the storage lockers.

This one's clear.

On me.

- Freeze!
- Don't sh**t, don't sh**t!

Let me see those hands!

I... I don't have any.

- Duh-hoy.
- Shut up.

Okay, so who or what are you?

I... W... I'm Bort.

Bort the Garj?

- Of the House of Garj?
- Well, Mr. Bort the Garj,

just, what do you think
you're doing?

Eating off-brand cereal.

No, the passengers
were from all over.

I was the only Garj,
and sol was able to hide in the walls

when they att*cked
the transport.

And after they k*lled
all the crew, they just...

took everybody.

To sell into the spek mines,
no doubt.

So how do you know English?

- Is... that relevant?
- Yeah, Lana.

I mean, why does anybody
know it?

I mean she does.
She's obviously not human.

- But not so obviously a she.
- Hey!

We were all thinking it.

'Cause you're all
a bunch of xenophobes.

Are you...
You're as bad as she is.

- Always calling me fish or...
- That doesn't count.

- You're a robot.
- Synthetic human.

Potato, pobobot, am I right?

Anyway, the important thing
is I'm okay.

- Is that so?
- Well, yeah.

I mean, I'm heir to the throne
of the House of Garj, so...

And that's actually
a pretty huge deal.

- Well, li-like, how huge?
- Well...

I-If you had to express it
monetarily.

- Wh... Oh, no.
- Lana, shut up.

- Archer, shut up.
- No!

- We are not going off on
some...-Wild goose chase! Who's in?

- I'm so in!-Me, me, me,
me, me, me, me, me!-Ooh, me!

- No. Now, wait a minute.
- Lana, democracy has spoken.

So, if we take you home
to Garj...

Well, to Garjek, our moon,

then my parents
will reward you handsomely.

I'm already handsome.
How much?

I mean...
easily a million credits.

In this economy?

And like I said,
I'm a pretty huge deal.

Yes, yes, you definitely are.

So, can somebody here please

get His Highness
some more cereal right now?

Yeah, or maybe
just better cereal?

Well, I don't know
about all that.

Just a thought.

Can I talk to you... please?

If you can do it while I'm
plotting a course for Garjek.

Wha...

And ignoring you.

Because we need to put
the ship in dry-dock.

The hull was damaged,

- even before this fiasco.
- All right,

carry the two...

And now you want to put more
stress on the ship

and jump two systems away

just because a sentient blobsays
there might be money in it.

Uncarry the two.

On top of which...
Not that you give a sh*t...

But you swore to me
we'd go back to Earth.

- You promised.
- Lana, come on.

I promised you lots of things.

- Archer...
- Besides,

like you said,
it's just two systems, a...

a skip and a jump.

What could possibly go wrong?

Seriously?

Besides all the normal stuff

that could easily
go disastrously wrong,

- since space travel is so dangerous.
- Ugh.

Woooooo!!

Hyperspace!

Oh, m... oh, man.

Is hyperspace not the best?

If you mean is it the bestat
putting stress on the hull...

Is this
the rest of my life now...

You bitching
about the damn hull?

Right? Relax.
The hull's gonna be...

Aah!

What the hell was that?

My last bottle of bitter lemon!

Dri'n fighters inbound.

From where?

- From the transport.
- What?!

They must've
followed us, dumb-ass.

How am I a dumb-ass?

How much time do you have?

Ow!

Uh... not much.

- Hull damage.
- We know!

Battle stations.

Ugh! What now?

Seriously.

But whatever it is,
I'm sure it's Archer's fault.

- Krieger, helm!
- Yep!

Okay, assholes.
Sun's out, g*ns out.

Well, in space,
the sun is always...

Don't step on my line, fish!

Whoa...

Uh, I thought this was
a civilian ship.

Isn't it illegal
for it to have weapons?

Oh, my God, it is.

Should we pull over and
call the Federation, or, uh...

- What? No, I just...
- 'Cause we're happy to pull over, Bort!

- S-seriously?
- No. Archer...

Please!

Quit dicking around.

Yeah, Bort.

Come on, come on,
come on, come on...

Yes!

Get some! Get some!

Suppressing fire!

Jesus,

you couldn't suppress a cough.

- Yes, I could.
- Touché, Cyril.

We're taking too much damage!

Damn it!
Okay, Carol...

Carol?
Carol!

- What?
- You know what!

- Ugh!
- g*dd*mn it, woman.

All right, already!

Jesus!

Isn't it kind of weird
Carol hates doing

the one thing she's good at?

No, I get it. I mean,
I'm like that with blowjobs.

- Oh, for...
- Wai-Wait, what?

- Yeah, whooda what?
- Since when are you good at blowjobs?

Excuse me?

For your information...

Cyril, shut up.

- Let the man speak.
- Yeah, Lana.

He has nothing to say
on the matter.

- Do you, Cyril?
- I... No, I guess not.

Whoa, w-whoa, w...
wait a minute.

Hey, look over there...
That was the last pirate.

Way to go, Carol.

Yeah. Yay me.

Okay, we will
talk about this later.

No, we won't.
But for now, head to the gig.

We leave for the surface
in five.

Time to see what
a million credits looks like.

And we should
take a duffel bag, or...

Ray, uh, what are you doing?

I thought I'd go down with
y'all and see if I could,

you know, find some clientele.

Hey, you know what?

I don't need it!

Aw, man. Now I feel
kind of bad.

Yeah, I d...

I do too. Let's bring him
something back.

Does he still collect
those little spoons?

Ugh, yes.

Hey, we're not going down
there for a shopping spree.

We're gonna use that reward
money to repair the ship.

Jesus, calm down,
it's just a spoon.

Yeah, Lana.

So, Bort, wh... uh,
what do we call your folks?

Do what?

Like, is this a "Your Majesty"
type deal, or...

Uh, y-yeah, I guess.

Okay, so...

Oh, should I curtsy?

Ugh, there's a picture.

First of all, I was voted

Most Ladylike in my
cotillion class, and I also...

Who was your competition...
A boulder?

Oh, the Dri'n.

What the...

- Hey, g*ng.
- Wha...

Barry Six?!

- Good God.
- Not Barry Six.

Yeah, it's good ol' Barry Six.
Say, Bort.

- g*dd*mn it, Bort.
- Hey, Six. -You know him?

How the hell do you know Bort?

Oh, Bort and I go way back.

I got Bort out of a sticky
little mess on Vega Three,

- didn't I, bud?
- Yeah.

So this was all a big set-up?

- Duh-hoy.
- I'm super sorry, you guys.

Oh, you will be, you little...

Butt-plug looking piece of sh*t!

That's what he reminds me of!

Mother, please.

Well look at him.

So are we... cool?

I mean, I am.

Okay, well,
then I'm just gonna...

kinda...

tip... just tip on out, then.

Wow.

Wow. Look at that.
Little kook.

You believe he's heir to the
throne of the House of Garj?

What do you want with us?

Well, me and Archer
have what you might call

an outstanding account
to settle.

So, for starters,
I'm gonna extract

all the bones from his body.

- What?!
- No biggie.

Well, now just hold on a minute!

- Yeah!
- If this is between

the two of you,
the rest of us...

- No!
- The rest of you, I hope,

are gonna fetch me
a pretty good price

when I sell you down
the spek mines.

Seriously?

Yeah. Not great, huh?

How about now... happy now?

I mean... probably happier
than I'm gonna be

when Barry Six
starts yanking my bones.

Space phrasing.

No.

Made in Georgia.