Anyone worth a Chig's ass would take responsibility...
for asking themselves and then answering...
"Who am I?" And "What's the point?"
My name is Colonel Tyrus Cassius McQueen.
But I know nothing of who I am.
The answer, I feel, is near.
The defining, perhaps final moment...
is close.
Everyone, everyone in this life knows...
when the moment is before them.
To turn away is simple.
To ignore it assures survival.
But it is an insult to life.
Because there can be no redemption.
No second chance.
Beyond death, there's nothing.
Just darkness and cold.
The instant his existence was confirmed...
every action, every breath of my life...
became horrifyingly clear.
He's out there tonight, sending our women, our men...
to that cold, dark place.
And nothing, nothing will stop him...
until I face... the moment.
This is APC-437-niner requesting clearance to land.
4379-niner, this is Toga Control. You're clear to land on Pad 5.
Roger. Thank you, Toga.
Mr. Sewell.
You men wait outside.
Aero-Tech anticipated his emergence, but never this quickly.
Now, we concur with naval intelligence reports that the existence...
of this advanced alien fighter...
jeopardizes any further development of Operation Roundhammer.
There can be no massive offensive until it is destroyed.
Destroyed? We sent 15 squadrons after it at one time.
And only 13 came back.
We don't have the means to destroy it.
But they do.
This material was secured on the Kazbek Mining colony...
during the 58th Squadron's rescue extraction.
At the company, they call this "Sewell Fuel".
Simply put, it's an organic ore...
which could only have been manufactured in the unique factory...
of the planet Kazbek, forming 10 billion years ago.
Refined correctly, it becomes a living, complex system fuel...
perpetuating itself, creating more energy than it expends.
The amount in my hand could power the Saratoga for a decade.
Most importantly...
the exhaust is clean, thermal temperature is negligible... .015 microns.
That is primarily what keeps the enemy invisible to our infrared sensors.
We had one of their bombers. This is not what fueled it.
Evidence indicates that the enemy has only recently developed this process.
That's why there is only one alien Red Baron.
For now.
We need to develop a jet that can run on this stuff.
That would take years.
Meanwhile, this prototype craft would become the enemy's standard attack jet.
Well, there may not be time to develop a plane.
But there is time for a missile.
Imagine the force of a complex perpetuating explosive.
How many missiles can you build?
After refining, we can only make one.
Meanwhile, you have to prepare a plan on how to take it to them.
Coop?
Oh, yes!
- That was offside. - Offsides?
- The players move back and forth. - Give it up, Coop. You suck.
Drop the ball, Chig lover.
Yes!
I applied three times and waited six months...
to get a pass into Zero Gravity Chamber...
thinking, you know, in that time, I'd find some guy okay to go in there with.
My appointment's tomorrow, and I've got nothing.
Winslow, please. Sex is the last thing on my mind.
Really? Well, according to the flight crew...
if you don't get it once every three days, you go crazy.
Break out the straitjacket.
I kind of have a thing for the colonel...
but you know that navel thing in the back of his neck?
I don't know. I think I'd be disoriented.
Winslow, McQueen is our commanding officer.
It's against regulations for him to be with you.
Besides, I don't think that...
he's ever had anything in his life but the Corps.
Kelly.
- Evening, Colonel. - Come on!
Can I ask you a question?
How long have you been in the Corps?
Dime and a nickel.
- Never married? - I've been married.
You flew with the Angry Angels, huh?
- Come on! - That's right, sir.
They're legends. Ever been in a Zero Gravity Chamber?
- Yeah. - Ever tried the one on the Saratoga?
- No. - Would you like to?
Man, this is jagged!
Get outta here. I'm trading you.
Hey, Colonel, come on. I need a new guy on my team.
Guy?
What do you think, we're back on the blocks, smokin' and jokin'?
You hear this loud and clear, Marine.
I am not your guy. I am not your joe.
I am not your damn drinking buddy.
And I sure as hell am not a mark in a singles bar.
You hear this, C.F.B.?
I am not here to make friends!
When this war ends...
and you go back to raising money for charity...
and you're eating dogs at Wrigley...
and you go back to Mayberry...
I'm still going to be out here...
waiting for the next one.
That's why I'm here.
That's what I'm good for.
"Looking darkly upon Hektor...
"swift-footed Achilleus answered...
"'I cannot forgive you.
"'As there are no trustworthy oaths between men and lions...
"'there can be no love between you and me.
"'One or the other must fall before then to glut with his blood...
"'Ares, the god who fights under the shield's guard.
"'Remember every valor of yours...
"'for now the need comes hardest upon you...
"'to be a spearman and a bold warrior.
"'There shall be no escape for you.
"'You will pay in a lump for all of those sorrows...
of my companions you killed in your spear's fury.'"
In summation, gentlemen, my proposal is to flush out the bogey...
via the use of a diversionary squadron...
whose rules of engagement are to turn tail and run...
while an SA-43, equipped with the Sewell Fuel missile...
executing a forward quarter intercept...
rises from behind cover of the retreating squadron...
fires the missile and terminates the enemy target.
Outstanding, Colonel. Outstanding.
Thank you, sir.
Now, if we can only find this Chiggie von Richthofen.
Intelligence is combing every known sector.
- Gentlemen, if I may. - Go ahead, Colonel.
It would be the most glorious honor of a long military career...
if this colonel was assigned...
as pilot of the intercepting SA-43.
Colonel McQueen, your flight status is grounded.
Yes, sir, this is due to the surgical insertion in the inner ear...
of a myoelectronic feedback device...
to counter the vestibulocochlear nerve damage sustained in battle, sir.
Then you know as well as anyone...
that an M.E.F. device cannot withstand...
the g-force demands placed upon an attack jet pilot.
- I'll take that chance, sir. - Chance?
Colonel, even if the device in your thick skull...
does not full-on erupt during A.C.M., it would, at the very least...
stress your temporal lobe to the point of loss of consciousness...
seizure and death.
I refuse to hand the Chigs a gimme.
Then I will have the device removed, sir.
You'll be vomiting every five steps.
Gentlemen, if I commit to the procedure of having the M.E.F. device removed...
pass the physical requirements and achieve approved flight status...
will I be assigned?
Colonel, this is the single most important mission of the war.
That's why I should be the one to fly it, sir.
Prove to me you're fit to fly, and you can fly.
Thank you, sir.
It feels good in here.
The room is oxygen rich and expedites refining of the Sewell Fuel.
If you're wearing a metal watch or ring...
please remove it to minimize the possibility of micro spark.
Refining process is nominal.
Yes, Mr. Sewell.
Then it's ready to go?
We're inserting the blast fragmentation warhead now.
This missile will change the nature of the conflict.
The world will no longer be fought over galactic territory...
but over Sewell Fuel.
Open the door!
Open this door! Help! Help me!
Open this door!
I believe it was sabotage.
Note the flash point at the side of the warhead...
where presumably Mr. Sewell and the engineers were working.
Before this area in the radome...
we found faint traces of petroleum distillate...
thinly coated on the missile seeker unit.
Now, the warhead contained a laser ranging proximity fuse.
Even minute heat from the laser would have ignited the petroleum distillate.
And in the oxygen-rich environment the engineers had been maintaining...
a microscopic spark would be as good as a flamethrower.
Thank God the damn thing didn't cook off.
The warhead's not built that way. Just a fire wouldn't set it off.
In fact, being in the protective casing of the warhead...
the Sewell Fuel was unharmed.
Well, this petroleum distillate...
could it have leaked from another part of the weapon?
No, sir. The liquid substance is not used in the construction of the missile.
It was placed there. In fact, with a chemical breakdown analysis...
I traced the material directly to a can of lubricating oil...
in Saratoga's engine room number three.
Someone aboard the Saratoga tried to sabotage that weapon.
Who's at my hatch?
Sir, it's Lieutenant Winslow, sir.
Come in.
Sir, the lieutenant wishes to express her...
Can you hear me?
Sir, the lieutenant wishes to express her most sincere apologies...
for her actions last evening.
Sir, the lieutenant has the utmost respect and admiration for the colonel...
and regrets any words or actions...
which may have insulted the colonel's honor.
Colonel McQueen, I'm sorry.
Apology accepted.
Will there be anything else, Lieutenant?
Sir, the lieutenant has observed recently...
inordinate behavior by Colonel McQueen...
and realizes that due to circumstances or by design...
the colonel has no one with which to communicate his feelings.
It's by design, Lieutenant, but not mine.
Is she still alive, sir?
She lives in a town called Wilkes-Barre.
It's in Pennsylvania.
And she's on your mind?
She is, a bit.
My life with her is... a lot.
I'm unable to have children. War wound.
But it's 2064. There are other ways.
I mean, you're an InVitro. You were born through artificial reproduction.
But she wasn't.
Before we married...
I tried to tell her what it would be like to be with a Tank.
But hearing it isn't feeling it.
Finally, she just couldn't take it anymore.
The horrible things people would say...
the hateful actions people would take against me...
I think she felt were directed at her.
She came to me one day...
and said she would not conceive a child by any artificial means.
She would not subject her child...
to those words, those feelings.
But the child wouldn't have been an InVitro.
Artificial insemination has been around for a century.
She knew that.
She knew I knew it.
I'd like to have been a father.
But I believe in asking myself...
than answering, "Who am I?"
That wasn't the answer.
Thank you for your apology, Lieutenant.
You're welcome, sir.
And your concern.
Gauging the blast fragmentation warhead.
Okay.
All right. Checking arming circuitry.
Yeah, this puppy's a go.
Okay, shut it down.
Sir, I'm reading...
an unauthorized access to the 14th mid-deck ventilation system.
It's proceeding towards that deck's research laboratory.
Master-at-arms?
What was that?
Do you hear that? Sounds like something was coming from the ceiling.
The missile's gone hot! It's been radio-activated.
The intruder's proceeding away from the laboratory on the 14th deck...
towards the 58th's quarters.
Five-eight, this is the commodore.
Security alert. Security alert.
Intruder on the 14th mid-deck.
It won't go cold. The control's been overridden.
Whatever turned it on, has to turn it off.
Turning right into passageway 0-niner.
It's gone. That's impossible. It must be a detector malfunction.
- They lost him. We should each take a hallway. - Out there.
Sir, the ISSCV on Flight Pad 10...
is being commandeered by an unidentified Tango.
- Pilots' lives in extremis. - Pull that bird in now.
All clear, Loading Bay 5.
Commodore, we have about a minute before this thing blows.
Evacuate the 14th mid-deck.
- Stop, people. Move it! - Let's go!
If we don't find this guy in about a minute, we're all gonna be dead.
Olly, olly oxen free.
Whoo!
Did I do something... bad?
I'd like to speak with an attorney.
We artificial-intelligent types have rights too, you know.
Silicates got what you call your Napoleonic code...
which states that the accused is innocent until proven guilty.
And that is?
It was on your person.
On your clothes we found remnants of the oil used as accelerant...
on the missiles in the fire.
And when that failed, you stole this radio-controlled device...
and turned it into a detonator, using electronics from your own body.
Clearly, gentlemen, a frame-up job is in progress.
You see, we biological life-forms got what you call...
your, uh, eye for an eye.
Yes. Yes, I've read about that.
It states that an act...
say of terrorism...
or murder is met with an equal act.
I have the uneasy feeling that you gentlemen...
are unfamiliar with the Ho Chi Minh City Convention of 2054.
Under declarations relating to Artificial Intelligence, Prisoners of War...
article two, paragraph four states...
Nothing that means a damn in this room.
Oh.
You didn't seem to care about the H.C.M.C. Convention when you tortured me...
at the Kazbek Penal Colony.
Why do you malign me so?
Oh, I see. Of course.
Oh, gentlemen, this has been one huge mistake.
You see, that wasn't me. That was an entirely different Elroy-El model.
Yes, that boy Elroy did some very bad things.
As I heard...
it was with this.
A silicate feels no pain.
Ah.
How did you know?
No, no, no, no, okay, okay, okay.
The Chigs knew that you had taken some ore from Kazbek.
They were very angry with us.
So they sent me to destroy the missile to make it up to them.
They are firm, yet fair.
How did the Chigs know about the missile?
Oh, they're very experienced at watching you.
Yes. They've done it for a long, long time.
Oh, you wouldn't believe how long.
They know about your big plans.
Your massive offensive, yes.
Oh, but their alien fighter will take care of that.
That's the main reason they sent me, you know...
to assure that the missile wouldn't interfere with the development of their new plane.
They nearly have all the kinks worked out...
and soon they'll come at you with nothing but alien fighters...
like him.
You're gonna get your asses kicked.
And then, Tank, it'll be all over.
You lose.
And because we're allies with them...
we win.
Lieutenant, leave the room.
Leave the room.
Sir, regulations state that the prisoner must be overseen...
- by at least two personnel at all times. - Leave the room, Lieutenant.
Where is he?
- Where is who? - You know who.
Oh, Chiggie von Richthofen?
- Where is he? - Oh. Tsk, tsk, tsk.
McQueen, you don't really want to know.
What are you doing? Aah!
No, no, no, that's uncalled for.
Tell me where he is.
Y-Y-You...
You're a war criminal.
I got no problem going all the way with this.
Where is he?
He... He's...
stationed... stationed...
stationed...
fourth planet of the Achilles...
sys... stem...
stem... stem... stem...
Wang!
Stem... stem...
Take this thing down to the shop.
And inform the flight surgeon I wish to see him.
For this mission, the fourth planet from Achilles...
will be designated "Gooch".
It lies 240 M.S.K.s from the Saratoga.
Five-eight, as the diversionary squadron, you are the bait.
You will patrol this area until engaged by the enemy.
At which time Colonel Schrader, trailing the formation...
will fire the Sewell Fuel missile at the enemy craft...
while you turn tail and run.
It is the nature of this mission and the colonel fully understands...
that if engaged by the enemy...
he is going one-on-one.
Commodore Ross.
If I may have a word, sir.
Have it.
Sir...
the colonel has become aware that he has not been assigned the mission of his design.
That's affirmative. Colonel Schrader has been assigned.
Sir, the admiral himself assured the colonel...
The final call is mine, Colonel. You are not fit to fly.
Sir, the colonel knows the commodore to be a man of honor.
You are not fit to fly, Colonel.
Sir, I have not been presented with the opportunity...
to demonstrate to the contrary, sir.
I don't have the time to let you go through qualifications.
And I don't need a damn physical to know you don't have your sea legs.
This mission means everything...
and I refuse to jeopardize it because you're taking it personally.
Sit it out, Colonel.
Colonel, you don't have to go to be there with us, sir.
Colonel, ask yourself then answer...
"Will my condition put the mission or the 58th at risk?"
And I think you know the answer.
All right, people, action this day. "Oh-ka-he".
If you went out like this, Ty...
none of you would ever come back.
This is Queen of Diamonds. We're in his playground.
Keep your eyes on the LIDAR. Report any mick. That's how we're going to spot him.
This is Ace of Hearts. Is that a bandit on the LIDAR?
Confirm, confirm, that's him.
Hold formation. We're breaking right after Fox One.
This is Winslow. My number two engine's out.
Winslow, he's on your six.
I can't shake him.
Eject! Eject!
What else did you expect?
Do you actually think I'm going to allow you to go out there after him?
You have no choice.
You'll have no wing support. No means of defeating its advanced technology.
What makes you think you can win?
I have no choice.
I'll be a son of a bitch if I go to your funeral, Ty.
Yes, you will, sir.
But we'll talk about your mother when I get back.
Colonel. Colonel. Colonel McQueen.
Perhaps you should make peace with your maker.
My maker was some geek in a lab coat with an eyedropper and a petri dish.
What do I need to make peace with him for?
At these times we should all make peace with our maker.
With all due respect, Chaplain, I don't think our maker wants to hear from me right now...
because he knows I'm gonna go out in that sky in this plane...
and remove one of his creations from his universe.
And when I return, I'm gonna drink a bottle of scotch...
as if it was Chiggie von Richthofen's blood and celebrate his death.
Amen.
Whoa, sir.
- Get the hell out of here. - All right.
Clear the flight deck. Stand by for Hammerhead gauging sequence.
Saratoga, this is Queen 6.
Oxygen control, check.
Mission computers, check.
Master arms switch, safe.
Inertial navigation system, check.
- You're number one of the runway. - Roger. Rhino 44, ready to copy.
Queen 6, this is Saratoga. Your distance is...
O God, the creator and redeemer of all the faithful...
hear our supplications.
And through thy infinite love and mercy...
graciously grant unto the soul of thy servant departed...
the remission of all her sins...
by which she may have deserved the severity of thy justice...
and punishments in the world to come.
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread...
and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive our trespassers.
And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.
Amen.
Honor Guard, atten-hut!
Ready, aim, fire!
This one's for you, Winslow.
Lord, we commend to thee the soul of thy servant Kelly...
that having departed from this world, she may live with thee.
And by the grace of thy merciful love...
wash away the sins that in human frailty...
she committed in the conduct of her life.
Through Christ our Lord. Amen.
I know now with certainty who I am.
But I'll be damned if I'll ever know the point.
And now all I can ask is, "Who was he?"
And, "Who was she?"
And, "What was the point?"
Watch your hands. Watch your hands.