Immaculate Perception

Original Airdate: 6 May, 2002

The soul of the Nietzchean is this:
We are arrogant. We are vain.
We are manipulative. We are selfish.
And we love our children.

Drago Museveni,
Primary Reflecitons CY8428

[Hunt's quarters]

(An injured woman reaches out as Imperial stormtroopers kill her, then the man who comes to her aid, and anyone else they see. Hunt is watching this on a small message PADD.)
HUNT: Butchers.
TYR: The victims are Nietzschean. The others call themselves the Knights of Genetic Purity.
HUNT: The Knights of Genetic Purity.
TYR: Nietzschean schoolchildren know them simply as Genites.
HUNT: I take it there's some history between your people.
TYR: The Genites blamed the Nietzscheans for the Commonwealth's fall. They vowed to eliminate all but pure-strain humans from the gene pool, and existence.
HUNT: That should solve everything, now shouldn't it. How old is this transmission?
TYR: Two days. It's a fragment of a distress signal. These victims are of Condor Pride. They're small, perhaps maybe a thousand strong, a typical target for these. For them. They need to be stopped.
HUNT: One question, Tyr. Your pride, the Kodiak, are gone.
TYR: So why should I care? Perhaps your humanitarian efforts over the past year and a half are beginning to influence me.
HUNT: Unlikely.
TYR: Do my motivations really matter? Even if the Genites are only targeting Nietzscheans, it is, after all, genocide, and if you don't try to stop it, one might easily conclude that your entire quest for a peaceful, egalitarian Commonwealth is a sham.
(Tyr leaves.)
HUNT: I hate it when he's right.
HOLO-ROMMIE: Right, but evasive. He still didn't answer your question.
HUNT: No, he didn't. Why does he care?

[Tyr's quarters]

FREYA [on screen]: One night of passion. One night of union. That's all I have to go on, Tyr. Are you the Tyr I fell in love with, the one who would race to save me before the Genites find Orca Pride and kill us all? Or are you really the other Tyr, the Tyr who betrayed Orca Pride, who left us defenceless, homeless? The Tyr who abandoned me? I suppose I'll know soon enough. Until then, I survive on belief. Belief against belief that you'll come and save me, that I'm still your wife, and you're still my husband.

[Command]

ROMMIE: According to Tyr's intelligence, the Genites' attacks began in the Kraylux system, then jumped to the Orion arm, and reappeared a thousand lightyears away here, in the Van Houten system.
BEKA: So their next attack could be anywhere in the known universe.
HUNT: Yeah, pretty much.
BEKA: I wish Trance was here. In guessing, she seems to swish the low percentage shots.
HUNT: Well, unfortunately I sent her to that state funeral on Enkindu.
ROMMIE: Like Beka said, anything we did right now would be a guess.
TYR: A suggestion? The Vadris sector.
BEKA: Any particular reason?
TYR: The sector is home to over three dozen minor Nietzschean Prides.
HUNT: Minor being the operative word.
TYR: If we're guessing, mine is as good as any.
HUNT: All right, set course for the Vadris sector. Beka.

[Corridor]

BEKA: I don't know about you, but I find the caring, compassionate Tyr a lot more frightening than I used to find the cold, indifferent one.
(Hunt tries to imitate Tyr, and fails.)
HUNT: Maybe our humanitarian efforts are beginning to have an influence on him.
BEKA: Say that like you mean it.
HUNT: I thought I did.
BOTH: Mmm hmm.
HUNT: I take it you have a theory?
BEKA: Well, let's see. Oh, yeah. Nietzschean distress signals in a distant system. Andromeda rides to the rescue. Oops. Surprise! Ambush. Fall of the Commonwealth. Ring any bells?
HUNT: Er, yes, painful ones.
BEKA: Maybe the Nietzscheans are using their old bag of tricks. Worked once, didn't it?
HUNT: So, if the Genite attacks are fake, then Tyr is working with the the Drago-Kazov? Nah, I don't buy it.
BEKA: But you buy the warm and fuzzy Tyr concerned for his fellow Nietzscheans.
HUNT: No, I didn't say that. But whatever Tyr's agenda might be, I'm convinced the Genites are for real, and that they have to be stopped.
BEKA: And, as usual, we're the only ones that can stop them.
HUNT: That is right.
BEKA: Just be careful.
HUNT: I'll be careful.
ANDROMEDA [OC]: Dylan? We've just entered Nero system, Vadris sector, and we've intercepted a repeating distress signal.
HUNT: On our way.

[Command]

PROMETHEUS [on viewscreen]: Mayday! Mayday! I am Prometheus Wellington, Alpha male of the Lynx Pride, and we are under attack. They came in execution units of two or three commandos, invisible until it was too late. Our bullets are useless against their armour. They seem to be targeting specific families, wiping them out first before attacking anyone else, women, children. Save us, before they
(Static.)
HUNT: Set a course for that Drift.
ROMMIE: The time stamp shows the message is already a week old. Preliminary sensor data indicates the Drift was completely destroyed. No survivors.
HUNT: You have your orders. I want to analyse that wreckage, find out what we're up against.
TYR: We know what we're up against, and we have more important things to do than examine debris. Here, here, here, and here. Known Nietzschean Prides that are within easy striking distance of this system. We should evacuate them now before it's too late.
HUNT: The Genites could be anywhere by now, and I won't fight them blindfolded. Rule number one, Tyr. Know your enemy.
TYR: Rule number two, Captain. Know yourself. You and everyone else aboard this ship are allowing your inability to trust Nietzscheans to slow your actions, and it's costing lives.
(Tyr leaves.)
BEKA: Okay. I'm just not buying this whole new emotional concern for the weak and defenceless. I say it's an act. Who's with me?
HUNT: I don't know if it's an act. There's something eating at Tyr. He's treating this whole situation like it's personal.

[Machine shop]

HARPER: This is the stuff we recovered. Enhanced AG mass packets from the Pyrians, self-controlled EM lash technology from the Nietzscheans, an infinitely scalable ECM shielded sensor probe from, er, well, who knows? Your guess is as good as mine, but, damn, is this puppy slick. And that is the piece de resistance. It's photoreactive personal body armour.
HUNT: This was in research and development when the Commonwealth fell. You know, whoever these guys are, they've been reading the High Guard's classified cookbook.
HARPER: Yeah, well, no offence, but that book's pretty old. They've spiced up the recipes a little bit there, Dylan. They've got three hundred and three years worth of improvements on our battle technology. In a fair fight with them, we'd be fried.
HUNT: We'll have to make sure we don't fight fair.
HARPER: Or, and I'm just playing devil's advocate here, what if we didn't fight them?
HUNT: Excuse me?
HARPER: We could learn a lot from teaming up with them.
HUNT: So you want to help them commit genocide?
HARPER: Okay, so they hate Nietzscheans, but is that really so bad? Come on, are all Nietzscheans saints and sweethearts? No. No, the majority of Nietzscheans are pirates, slavers, and tyrants. They're not nice people.
HUNT: The Genites just don't want to kill Nietzscheans. They want to kill anyone who's been genetically enhanced.
HARPER: What do you know? Finally, I get to be the safe guy. I'm a hundred percent all natural human.
HUNT: Nobody else on this ship is, including me, so if the Genites get their way, the only person left alive on the Andromeda would be you.
ANDROMEDA [OC]: Dylan, we're being hailed. It's the Genites.
HUNT: Ha, what do you know? Your favourite people.

[Command]

BEKA: According to the signal lag, they're less than a light second away, but I'll be damned if I can see them. Just their communication relay drone.
ROMMIE: Their stealth capabilities are very good.
HUNT: On screen. (A blond man, surprise, surprise.)
GORICE [on viewscreen]: I am Armsmaster Desmond Lord Gorice of the Knights of Genetic Purity. It is a true honour to meet you, Captain Hunt.
HUNT: I wish I could say the same.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: Well, you have quite a reputation.
HUNT: So do you, for killing Nietzschean women and children.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: Thank you. Apparently, you're quite the Nietzschean killer in your own right. You single-handedly manipulated the Sabra-Jaguar into war with the Dragans. You crushed the Orca Pride on behalf of the Than Hegemony, and rumour has it you helped wipe out the Nietzschean fleet at the Battle of Witchhead three hundred and three years ago.
HUNT: Those were enemies. Many Nietzscheans are also my allies and friends.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: Such as Tyr Anasazi? I understand on Old Earth that some humans would try to keep baby alligators as pets, the results being predictable. I prefer parrots, myself. Less dangerous.
HUNT: You know, that's an odd analogy. Nietzscheans aren't animals.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: They're not humans, either. They've been genetically engineered for treachery. Treachery that caused the fall of the Commonwealth. Look at it this way. We both want the Commonwealth back. We Knights are just getting rid of the principal obstacle to its return.
HUNT: You're targeting children.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: Our Knights do a lot of brave work for the good of all pure-bred humans. It takes great strength not to be affected by their cries, their pleas. I don't want to have to kill these children either, but the problem is, they grow up to be Nietzscheans.
HUNT: No, the problem is that you're sick, and there's no point in having this conversation.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: We should really be allies on this.
HUNT: Stay away from the Nietzscheans.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: Perhaps if you read our manifesto, I'm sure you would find that
(Transmission terminated.)
TYR: Your mother was what, fifty percent heavy gravity worlder?
HUNT: One hundred percent.
TYR: We finally found someone who hates us both equally.
ROMMIE: Captain, I'm detecting multiple slipstream events. The Genites are leaving the system.
HUNT: So are we.
BEKA: You want to go after them?
HUNT: I want to destroy them. All ahead full.

[Corridor]

ANDROMEDA [OC]: Maru launching, hangar number two.
BEKA: That's it, I'm disabling my engines. I've had it with him stealing my ship.
HUNT: Andromeda, plot a pursuit course. This is the last time Tyr will pursue his agendas at my expense. The last time!
(Hunt and Beka run past a side room where something is flashing a little red light.)
ANDROMEDA [OC]: Maru entering slipstream.

[Command]

BEKA: Still no Maru.
HUNT: Keep searching.
ANDROMEDA [on viewscreen]: I'm detecting multiple slipstream events two light-seconds away. They've got Genite rad signatures.
HUNT: Andromeda, launch slipfighters, squads one through seven.
ANDROMEDA [on viewscreen]: Another comm drone. It's hailing us.
HUNT: Put him through.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: Three hundred and three year old slipfighters, Captain Hunt? Maybe you should try biplanes or a Vedran cavalry charge.
HUNT: I think you'll find that they're still effective.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: I've already told you, Captain, I don't have any argument with you.
HUNT: Why are you following us?
GORICE [on viewscreen]: Need some help finding your stray Nietzschean?
HUNT: I don't want your help.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: Really? Our sensor drones have tracked the Maru to the Goran system.
HUNT: I'll make a note of it.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: Let me guess. You try to make friends with Tyr Anasazi, but your favourite Nietzschean stabbed you in the back again.
HUNT: This isn't your business.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: A rogue Nietzschean flying around in his own ship? From where I stand, that is an unacceptable security risk. We'll do everything we can to keep the Maru in one piece.
HUNT: Thank you.
GORICE [on viewscreen[: I can't guarantee the same for Tyr.
ANDROMEDA [on viewscreen]: They're transiting to slipstream.
HUNT: Andromeda, recall slipfighters. Set a course for the Goran system.

[Eureka Maru]

GORICE [on screen]: Nietzschean, the Knights of Genetic Purity send their regards. Prepare to launch missiles.
HARPER: Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Don't shoot! Don't shoot! There's nobody here but us humans.
GORICE [on screen]: Where is the Nietzschean?
HARPER: You mean Tyr? He's one of the reasons I ran off. The other being to join you guys.
GORICE [on screen]: You want to help us?
HARPER: Yeah. Lookit, I am pure choice, O positive, one hundred percent all beef human, and I hate Nietzscheans. Probably more than you do.
GORICE [on screen]: You want to abandon the Andromeda?
HARPER: With your battle technology? Hell, yeah. I'm an engineer. And to prove it, what brilliant minded little fiend do you think left your sensor probe active on the Andromeda?
GORICE [on screen]: Yes, we were wondering about that.
HARPER: Well, wonder no more. Now, let's talk, humano a humano.
GORICE [on screen]: I've ordered my ships to stand down. Proceed for docking.
(The Andromeda comes out of slipstream.)
HARPER: Suckers! Deploying missiles.
COMPUTER: Target acquired.
HARPER: Chew on that, you fruitcake.
(One ship goes KaBOOM. Andromeda opens fire on the others.)

[Command]

HUNT: Gorice, my heavy grav finger just fired the missiles that lit your match. Thanks, mom.
BEKA: And my genetically enhanced reflexes just threaded two Genite scouts like a Christmas quilt. Thanks, dad.
(They cut Desmond off before he can say anything.)
ROMMIE: And most of all, thank you Harper.
HUNT: Hopefully that'll buy Tyr enough time to warn the rest of the Nietzscheans.

[Freya's chamber]

(In a hollowed out asteroid. She is woken by a sound. A figure drops from a roof strut into the candlelit room. They kiss passionately and etc etc. Later -)
TYR: I've got a slipfighter hidden nearby. We should go.
FREYA: It's not that easy. We have a son.
TYR: Why did you not tell me sooner?
FREYA: I didn't know of your intentions.
TYR: Freya, I'm here. Is that not testament to my intentions?
FREYA: The last evidence of your intentions was you destroying our homeworld. You, leaving without a word on Andromeda. You nowhere to be found as we drifted, outcast and homeless, for a year.
TYR: I did what I had to do. I was outmanoeuvred by Captain Hunt.
FREYA: That's no consolation to me.
TYR: Had I tried to return for you, I would have been killed. Either by him or the Alpha, Guderian.
FREYA: Olma gave me a choice. Do you understand? I chose to keep our baby.
TYR: Our son. Our son.
FREYA: Because I knew. I knew that our son could be the foundation of a great family, of an entire Pride. Everyone wanted to kill me, and our son. They said his father was an outsider, a traitor. But I endured, because I knew you were the most important thing a Nietzschean can be. You're a survivor.
TYR: I am that. As are you. As shall be our son.
FREYA: They've taken him from me.
TYR: Who? Who took him?
FREYA: Olma and
TYR: Guderian?
FREYA: No, Dimitri.
TYR: Guderian's sniveling, sterile little brother? I'll snap his sorry neck.
FREYA: After you outsmarted Guderian, he became unworthy as Alpha. Dimitri, he slit Guderian's throat as he slept and proclaimed himself Alpha. Dimitri's not as innocent as he appears. You're going to have to watch him as you help Orca evacuate.
TYR: Help evacuate? After the way they've treated you, my wife, and my son? Orca Pride can rot on this rock for all it means to me. I came here for you. Let's go get our son.

[Command]

ROMMIE: Dylan, the Genites are retreating.
BEKA: Intergalactic bullies. Someone finally stands up to them, and they run like their hair's on fire.
HUNT: We hope. Is Harper back?
ROMMIE: He's less than five light seconds away.
HARPER [OC]: Oh, come on, boss. Let me stick my fork in them, because their buns are baked.

[Eureka Maru]

(Bangs.)
HARPER: Uh oh.

[Command]

(The Genite ships start dropping lots of objects.)
HUNT: What are those?
ROMMIE: I don't know.
HUNT: Get Harper out of there.
ROMMIE: We can't. Those hemispheres, they're blocking the way.
BEKA: And they just broke through our defences.
(Bang!)
BEKA: Some have attached to the hull.
ROMMIE: Incoming message.
HUNT: On screen.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: You wouldn't listen to my logic. Well, maybe you'll listen to my Seraphim.
(Message ends.)
BEKA: Seraphim angels?
HUNT: More like lampreys.
HARPER [on viewscreen]: Er, boss? I've got a monkey on my back. Help!
HUNT: Beka, find a way to the Maru.
BEKA: We're on our way.

[Eureka Maru]

(A Seraphim is trying to punch its way in with pointed legs.)
HARPER: Guys, it's ripping through my hull like I'm in a can of beans. What part of help don't you understand?

[Command]

HUNT: Beka, pick that thing off of Harper's back.
BEKA: Yeah. I'll just set the ship's PDLs to laser scalpel.
HUNT: Let's bring it.

[Eureka Maru]

(The Seraphim goes KaBOOM.)
HARPER: I guess you do understand help. Never mind.

[Asteroid nursery]

(Tyr turns down the cot blanket to reveal a life-sized baby doll, then someone starts shooting at him. He kills his attacker.)
TYR: They've taken him. Stay down!
(More superior Nietzscheans get shot. Tyr throws Freya one of their weapons.)

[Command]

(The Maru returns to Andromeda.)
ROMMIE: There are too many Seraphim. They're pounding through my hull.
BEKA: I'm losing manoeuvring control.
HUNT: Time to get rid of our uninvited guests.
BEKA: Slipstream?
ROMMIE: We're too close to gravitational pull of that planet.
HUNT: Close is good. We've got fleas. Let's give Andromeda a bath.
(The Seraphim start to get blown off the hull. Harper runs in.)
HARPER: You're taking us into their atmosphere?
HUNT: I'm guessing these parasites won't like it.
HARPER: And neither will we.
HUNT: Hopefully, we've got a tougher shell.
HARPER: We are way too big for that safety zone. One infinitesimal wrong move, and we either skip off or burn up.
HUNT: Thank you, Mister Harper. Beka, easy one forty.
HARPER: He said easy.
(Andromeda enters the upper cloud layer.)

[Asteroid corridor]

(Tyr and Freya run and kill. The men shout at each other from around a corner.)
DIMITRI: Tyr! Did you really think we wouldn't detect your slipfighter landing?
TYR: I got away with presuming your ignorance before, Dimitri. Why should this time be any different?
DIMITRI: Don't push me, Kodiak. The only reason I didn't kill you when you were in bed with Freya was because you answered her distress call. I thought you might be here to help, but I see now you're not here to evacuate us. You're here to kidnap my son.
TYR: How's that possible, Dimitri? Everyone knows you're sterile.
(Angered, Dimitri fires randomly.)
FREYA: Dimitri, stop. Tyr's our only hope against the Genites. He only insisted on taking me and my son when he heard how poorly you've treated us, which you have.
DIMITRI: You left me. One moment of weakness, and you left me. How should I
(Tyr knocks him unconscious.)
TYR: There's another moment of weakness, sorry sack of mediocrity. Now, listen to me! Give me my son, and I can refrain from having to exterminate any more of you.
OLMA: Enough!
(An older woman walks through the assembled soldiers.)
OLMA: Here is the child. Tamerlane Anasazi, out of Freya, by Tyr. Hold your place. This is the second time you've bested our Alpha. I find you worthy to be the new Alpha of Orca Pride.
TYR: If I want something, I'll take it.
FREYA: Do it, Tyr. Take it.
TYR: Why would I want it?
FREYA: Well, you'll have everything you want. A wife, a son, a family.
OLMA: And finally, your own Pride. All you have to do is agree to lead us and deliver us from our enemies.
TYR: All due respect, Matriarch, Freya and Tamerlane are all that I need. I'll found my own Pride. Now, please, give me my son.
OLMA: I'm afraid I can't do that. Your son is too important. To me, to the Orca, to the Nietzschean people.
FREYA: Tyr, Tamerlane is more than our son. He's, he's everything we've been waiting for.
OLMA: The great leader, the one to come. The genetic reincarnation of Drago Museveni. Tamerlane Anasazi.
FREYA: Our son is the Nietzschean messiah.
TYR: Our, our, our son is the genetic reincarnation of Drago Museveni?
OLMA: Tamerlane will one day unify the Nietzschean prides under Drago's name, as our messiah.
TYR: How do you know?
OLMA: I can't be a hundred percent certain. For that, I'd need access to Drago's mummified remains. Of course, the Dragans won't let anyone near his sacred body.
FREYA: There are even rumours they no longer have the bones.
TYR: Then how do you make this claim?
OLMA: I messengered the child's DNA to Desideratum Drift, so that the genetic scientists could compare it to the best known extant records. The results suggested a very high probability of a match.
TYR: You transmitted his genetic codes?
FREYA: We did everything in the strictest confidence.
TYR: No, no, no, no. Freya, no! No one can keep that a secret. No doubt the mere rumour of a messiah is what drew the Genites out of hiding. While you and your brood of misfits sit pondering your own stupidity, I'll be preparing my slipfighter for leaving.

[Command]

ROMMIE: The atmosphere has burned off all the Seraphim. My hull is clean.
HUNT: Nice work. Bring us up, out, and around the planet. Slingshot manoeuvre.
BEKA: Won't the Genites be expecting us?
HUNT: They won't even see us coming.
HARPER: Sure. It's not like they've got super duper three hundred year advanced sensors or anything.
BEKA: No sign of the Genite ships.
ROMMIE: I'm detecting residual slipstream effects two light-minutes out.
HUNT: They left.
BEKA: To find Tyr.
HUNT: Rommie, set a course for the Ashlight Theta. Prepare for slipstream.
HARPER: Ashlight Theta? That place is a dustbowl. What's there?
HUNT: Nietzscheans, Orca Pride.
BEKA: Orca Pride? Weren't those Nietzscheans who tried to blast us with their plasma cannon? Who tried to take over our ship until you guys blew up their homeworld? Those Orca?
HUNT: Those Orca.
BEKA: And you knew that's where he was headed all along?
HUNT: Gut feeling. Trust me.
HARPER: Oh, we trust you. You feel guilty for leaving the Orca homeless. You want to turn foes into friends. You're a nice guy, but Tyr?
BEKA: Tyr only helps those who help Tyr. And suddenly now he needs to save a Pride who swore to kill him?
HUNT: The only person Tyr wants to save is his wife.
HARPER: What?
ROMMIE: Approaching the slipstream portal.
HARPER: Who the hell would marry Tyr?
HUNT: Beka?
BEKA: Slipping.

[Asteroid]

FREYA: Tyr, don't abandon us.
TYR: They abandoned themselves to their unfathomable idiocy.
FREYA: So you're leaving now?
TYR: Not alone. You and my child are coming with me.
FREYA: Olma and the Orca will never let you take him alone, not without a battle until the Orcas' death. And yours.
TYR: Why did you not tell me that our son might be the prophet child?
FREYA: Again, your intentions. I glimpsed the real Tyr Anasazi on our wedding night. The one who said he'd stop at nothing to rule the stars? Well, our son would be the perfect tool for you.
TYR: Freya, do you admire my ambitions? Please. Please, please, please, don't discourage me.
(They kiss. Olma approaches with an honour guard and the baby.)
OLMA: You will hold him when we are all safely aboard your ship.
TYR: The Andromeda will be here in seven hours. I'll meet it, and coordinate a rendezvous point with your transports.
OLMA: No. You can coordinate just as easily using your radio. I expect you to stay on our asteroid until everyone is evacuated.

[Command]

ROMMIE: Entering the asteroid belt. The Genites appear to have arrived ahead of us.
HUNT: When?
BEKA: Yeah, when? When did Tyr get married?
HARPER: Yeah. It must have been when he was there a year ago. We get a nasty standoff with Orca's plasma cannon, and he gets a wife.
BEKA: You know, if he would have told us that he was saving his wife, I would have wasted a lot less time suspecting him.
HUNT: I'm not so sure it was wasted.
ROMMIE: Still no visuals, but I'm detecting a high energy output from the Genites' active sensors.
BEKA: They must be scanning every asteroid in the belt.
HUNT: Which means they haven't found the Orca Pride.
HARPER: Yeah? Well, give them time.
HUNT: That's exactly what we're not going to do. Let's contact Tyr. General broadcast. I don't want to give away his position.
HARPER: And give away ours?
HUNT: That's right. We'll draw the Genites away from Tyr. Rommie?
ROMMIE: Channel open.
HUNT: Tyr, this is Dylan. The Genites are in the Kuiper belt searching for you.

[Asteroid]

HUNT [OC]: Continue preparing for evacuation. Till further notice, maintain radio silence.
TYR: Acknowledged.

[Command]

BEKA: I don't believe it. He just made himself a target. One stupid word.
ROMMIE: That was a fatal mistake.
HUNT: Tyr doesn't make mistakes.

[Asteroid]

(Alarms, people running.)
TYR: Move! We have little time. Go, go, go, go, go! Freya, Olma, stay with me.
OLMA: I told you. The child and I go with the rest of our Pride.
TYR: All right, now you listen to me. So long as the Genites are in this system, we both know these people have no possibly of being evacuated safely and in time.
FREYA: You're using Orca Pride as a shield.
TYR: You asked me to help evacuate. I've done so. What follows is none of my concern. Now, I plan to evacuate my wife and my child. You can save yourself by coming along with us, or you can die with them.
OLMA: My duty is to the Orca Pride.
(Boom! Screams off.)
TYR: Unless I miss my guess, that duty has just ended. And if this baby is who we think he is, your duty to the Nietzschean people has just begun! Now, move!
FREYA: Do as he says, Olma.
(They start to run. There is a big explosion behind them. Enter the stormtroopers. They grab Freya.)
FREYA: Tyr!
TROOPER: Give us the baby, or she dies.
TYR: Everything I've done is for our son.
FREYA: I know.
(Tyr shoots the stormtrooper holding Freya. She attacks the second, but a third shoots her in the back.)
OLMA: Freya!
TYR: Go!
TROOPER: Get him!

[Command]

ROMMIE: Dylan, we're being hailed. It's Gorice.
HUNT: Put him through.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: Do you know what you're doing? Somewhere down there is the Nietzschean messiah, and you are protecting him.
HUNT: I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm just trying to find one of my crewmembers.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: If that child escapes, all the Nietzschean Prides could be united in his name. Then there'll be nothing to stop them.
HUNT: You don't listen very well. I will not let you kill innocent people.
GORICE [on viewscreen]: You say that as if you have a choice.
(Transmission ends.)
ROMMIE: The Orca refugee ships are launching.
HUNT: Get between the Genites and those ships. Cover their transit.
HARPER: The Genites are throwing everything they've got at them. The Orca don't stand a
(Multiple KaBOOMs light up the viewscreen.)
HARPER: The Orca didn't stand a chance, Dylan.
BEKA: Tyr.
ROMMIE: The Genites are streaming away. Should we plot a pursuit course?
HUNT: No. Search the wreckage for survivors.
ROMMIE: My preliminary IR sensors don't detect any survivors.
HUNT: Search it!
(Time passes.)
HARPER: Dylan, it's been three days. There's no one left alive.
HUNT: Mister Harper, you may not like Tyr, but he is a member of this crew, and the High Guard takes care of its own.
HARPER: Look, I don't, I don't dislike Tyr. Come on. He's saved my ass dozens of times. It's just, he's gone, okay? It's over.
HUNT: It's not over until I say it's over! Understood? So Mister Harper, how much longer do you think we should keep looking for Tyr?
HARPER: Until we find him.
HUNT: Good answer.
(Later -)
HARPER: What's happening to us, Beka? First, Rev splits, and then Trance swaps with the future Trance, and now even Tyr's gone.
BEKA: We don't know that. Tyr's a survivor.
HARPER: Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. If the universe suddenly imploded in the big crunch, everybody's money would be on Tyr surviving it, because he's invincible, and when Tyr's on our ship, we're all invincible. Hey, maybe that's why Dylan won't give up hopelessly looking. He probably misses being invincible.
BEKA: Maybe he just misses a friend.
(Later still -)
HARPER: It's twenty four hundred hours, again. That makes day five.
HUNT: What if we scanned the Goran system one more time?
ROMMIE: We could, but the statistical variance on the eleventh sweep is somewhere in the vicinity of
(Beep, beep, beep!)
ROMMIE: We've got sensor contact.
HUNT: Focus active sensors. What is it?
ROMMIE: Dylan, it's Tyr!

[Hangar bay]

HARPER: Tyr! You're here! I can't believe it!
(Harper runs and hugs him.)
HARPER: You're back, huh? And your front.
HUNT: Er, dismissed.
HARPER: Are you okay?
HUNT: Mister Harper.
(Harper, Rommie and Beka leave.)
HUNT: You don't seem too happy to be back, Tyr.
TYR: I was a husband and a father. Now I'm neither.

[Corridor]

TYR: They put a gun to Freya's head, and they gave me an ultimatum. The baby for her life. But when we looked at each other. An understanding, you know? Everything we did now was for the child. Then it was just me and the matriarch, who still held my son. We ran. There was an explosion. The matriarch fell. Her carotid artery was severed by shrapnel. Before she died, the matriarch handed me my son, and for the first time, I held in my arms this, this huge little life. Mine. Mine. You would have but one goal then, right? To reach the slipfighter. I was fired on as I ran, but I made it. We reached the slipfighter and escaped. The little one never cried. All through the melee, he was silent, and I can remember thinking, how very valiant is Tyr Anasazi's son. But then as I flew, I realised why he was so, so still. I cannot name my feelings then, nor now, but I will tell you sir, because you are my friend, are you not?
HUNT: Yes.
TYR: Of such joy, then such insufferable sorrow. I have never experienced the like in my life that I have no place for it.
HUNT: I'm sorry, Tyr. I'm sorry.
TYR: Dylan.
HUNT: Yes?
TYR: I knew you'd come. I knew you wouldn't leave me.

[Hunt's quarters]

TYR: You wanted to talk to me?
HUNT: Yes, I did. One thing is bothering me, Tyr. That transmission that gave away your position.
TYR: A mistake.
HUNT: I don't think so. I think you gave away your position to lure the Genites to Orca Pride, then you used the Orcas' destruction as a screen while you got your child away. Then I can't help but wonder, what if that deception hasn't stopped, and now your son lives someplace safe, where he'll grow up protected, masked by the false news of his death, while you sit here and you wait for that right time to return and claim him, and seize the fate of the Nietzschean people.
TYR: I only wish that were true.
HUNT: So do I.
TYR: Was there something else?
HUNT: Is your son the Nietzschean messiah?
TYR: Now that he's dead, we'll never know.

[Tyr's quarters]

(Tyr puts some curly hair on one side of a scanner, and straight hair from a box on the other side, then presses a button.)
COMPUTER: DNA comparison to Drago Museveni. Match is one hundred percent.

[Cabin]

(Olma is singing a lullaby to a baby boy in her arms, with words from Thus Spake Zarathustra.)
OLMA: Do not spare your neighbour. Man is something which must be overcome.

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