The Expanse (2015) s01e04 Episode Script


Previously on The Expanse He's hypoxic.
His breather's crapping out! You can breathe off mine, okay? Breathe it in.
My name is James Holden, speaking for the five survivors of the Canterbury.
Our ship was destroyed answering a bogus SOS from a ship called the Scopuli.
We are about to be taken aboard the MCRN Donnager.
- Alex, shut it! - We have the right to legal Good golly, Ms.
You sure can pick 'em.
Curfew is now in effect on Medina Level.
Do you think I'm OPA? These are the hallmark skill sets of terrorists.
Mars didn't destroy the Canterbury.
Then who did? I flew with the Mars Navy for 20 years before I shipped off on the Cant.
- Are you OPA? - We putting all our cards on the table here? - Sleeper agents.
You ever heard of them? - Well, screw you - Guys! Guys! - Human shields, you ever heard of those? Hey! I'm ready to talk, but only to your captain.
Come on, guys, it's over.
Just just go home.
No, no, no! Sorry to keep you waiting, we've been busier than usual.
Still getting intakes from all over the Medina, even from Uptown.
You know what the average life expectancy on Earth is? No.
123 years.
It's even better on Mars.
You know what it is on Ceres? 68.
And with the recent unpleasantness, that average is only going down.
What? Nothing.
I'm sure you're younger than you look.
Stiff's ID is Bizi Betiko.
You know, there is no religious directive on file, so okay if I recycle him? Factory on 39 needs some fertilizer.
Not yet.
I'd like to know what the hell Holden is discussing with the Captain right now.
For all we know, he could be working out a deal.
Yeah, for himself.
The only thing I see here is an incoming ship.
One you can't even identify.
How do you know they're coming for Naomi? We don't.
It's a guess.
And you're just guessing Naomi's OPA, too.
We both know that's better than a guess.
She is the best liar amongst all of you, by far.
And she is hiding something.
You can sense that, too.
I don't believe she's a terrorist.
And even if she was, I'm not blaming her for the Canterbury.
You blamed it on us.
We found Martian naval tech in the beacon that lured us to the Scopuli, and then you showed up.
We had nothing to do with the Canterbury, but because of you, Earth thinks we destroyed it.
Some people are calling it an act of war.
You need to recant.
Blame Nagata.
True or not, it will change the narrative until cooler heads prevail and figure out what really happened.
I won't do it.
There's some kind of game being played here.
Maybe someone wants a war, I don't know, but if you really do want to stop it, then let us go and then we talk.
Captain, inbound vessel approaching defense perimeter.
One minute to contact.
- Hail them.
- Frequencies open.
Unidentified vessel, this is Captain Theresa Yao, of the MCRN Donnager.
This is your final warning.
If you maintain your present course you will be fired upon.
They're jamming us.
Multiple fast movers detected! More than one ship.
I count six bandits.
Missile launch alert.
Sound general quarters.
All hands, battle stations.
Prepare to return fire.
- What's happening? - That's battle mode lighting.
Must be a drill.
Okay, what's that? It sounds like torpedoes being fired.
Sounds like a lot of torpedoes.
I don't think it's a drill.
Maybe we should get strapped in.
Good idea.
Torpedoes are away! Guidance lock on all targets.
Well, whoever they are, and whatever they've come to do, it's just become a suicide mission.
They started this fight, and we're going to finish it.
We can't tell who they're fighting.
There's massive LADAR and RADAR jamming, we can't resolve the drive signatures or make any visual IDs.
They took our people hostage.
We have to get a ship there.
The Orinoco's en route at best possible speed, but they're still two days out.
It'll all be over by then.
Somebody has a new fleet of warships.
I concur.
Any idea who it might be? Not yet.
Keep me apprised.
While I was so young, I was wiser than they thought.
"Dear, dear," says I, "punishment is death.
" "Aye," says he, "if they can get hands on me.
" Incoming targets at 15 Let's get an additional readout on this You look nervous.
I get that way when missiles are flying at me.
Don't worry.
It's nothing our guns can't handle.
I take it you didn't see much action in the UN Navy? - That was a good thing.
- Not for soldiers.
The only combat most of my officers have seen is in simulators.
Fortunately, I got to spend three years cleansing the Belt of pirates who were poaching terraforming supplies intended for Mars.
I'm sure they weren't all bad people.
But sometimes you have to kill to preserve.
Captain Yao, you're needed on Comms deck two.
- PDCs ready? - All arrays are online and standing by.
Appa says you shouldn't be on the roof.
And you should? They're nothing to be scared of, you know.
They're just little rocks that burn up in the sky.
They're not always so little.
You mean like the one that killed the dinosaurs? Uh-huh.
Okay, that rock was big.
But that hardly ever happens.
Like winning the lottery.
I worry about people who throw rocks.
Nobody could throw rocks that big.
It just happens, sometimes, because, you know, gravity.
Come in and play.
I'll come and put you to bed.
You're no fun.
May I ask you a question? Do you miss Earth? If I did, I'd go back.
My great-uncle emigrated from Earth.
He missed it terribly.
He used to tell me stories when I was a little boy about these endless blue skies, free air everywhere.
Open water all the way to the horizon.
He told me that someday we would make Mars just like that.
When you spend your whole life living under a dome, even the idea of an ocean seems impossible to imagine.
I could never understand your people.
Why, when the universe has bestowed so much upon you, you seem to care so little for it.
Wrecking things is what Earthers do best.
Martians, too, by the look of your ship.
We are nothing like you.
The only things Earthers care about is government handouts.
Free food, free water, free drugs so that you can forget the aimless lives you lead.
You're short-sighted and selfish, and it will destroy you.
Incoming torpedoes in PDC range, one minute.
Earth is over, Mr.
My only hope is that we can bring Mars to life before you destroy that, too.
Secure the prisoner.
Yes, sir.
Get in the chair.
Come on.
I hope you enjoy the show.
Lock PDCs and engage.
PDCs are go.
Splash one! Five more to go.
Is there a problem? No, sir, it's just their torps' guidance systems are really good.
Better than anything we ever simmed against.
They're pushing our PDCs to the limit.
Impact on main reactor housing.
Captain, enemy ships are now inside guided missile range.
Torpedoes will no longer be effective.
Enough of this.
Bring up the rail guns.
Let's finish this and go home.
Aye, sir.
Diverting power to rail guns.
I'm looking for Bizi Betiko.
You're not going to find him here.
Why you pensa? Why you pensa? - Why you pensa? - Why you pensa? - This is his place, right? - So, ya, that it is.
Which puts me at 29 days, seven hours and 13 minutes of pura, unpowered flight.
I carve it up around the big-gas, then load up more spin - Romanov.
- going 'round the Ringer.
It's only three million clicks of hard vacuum to hit a bull's-eye smaller than a mosquito's ass and fly my way into the record books.
Slingshot club.
Oh, for entertainment purposes only, sasa ke.
No license required.
- Ah, I don't give a crap about that.
- Huh? Wanna bet, ke? Action good tonight.
All right, listen up! Star Helix.
I'm looking for a girl.
- Her name's Julie, she was a pilot.
- Oh.
- She might've come to Bizi to charter a ship? - Oh.
Hey, assholes.
Bizi Betiko is dead.
He ain't dead yet, copain.
He be out there.
That Bizi Betiko! Watch the way it's done Sabaka! Bizi, Bizi, Bizi, Bizi! Come on, come on, come on.
Come on, come on, come on.
Come on, come on, come on.
Now he dead.
Should've bet.
Should've bet.
The Nauvoo's engines have all been tested and certified, and we've been able to continue laying down the hull at the same time.
Which means, everything is proceeding on schedule and on budget, which I'm sure you're pleased to hear.
The Latter Day Saints took a considerable risk hiring you to build the Nauvoo.
I know.
Tycho spins up asteroids.
We don't build ships, not till now.
But trust me, it'll be a ship no one will ever forget.
That's not what I meant.
I meant you.
There have been rumblings that you should be replaced as Head of Operations for the project.
Why is that? Your ties to the OPA have been making a number of Elders in the general authorities uncomfortable, particularly in light of the recent events in the Belt.
The OPA is only interested in human rights and jobs for all Belters.
And fomenting riots on Ceres.
And inflaming passions in the wake of the Canterbury.
The history of organized religion isn't exactly strife-free.
I've been asked to request a new Head of Operations.
Of course.
If that's what you want.
But I'd be remiss if I didn't remind you that, without me, you're going to have a very difficult time retaining the most skilled Belters for your project.
I mean the ones who build for reliability.
You're about to send your best and brightest Mormons on a hundred-year voyage to a new world around a new sun.
Who knows what tragic malfunctions might occur along the way? So who'd you have in mind? We're still weighing our options.
For now, uh, please just continue along, as before.
We have some calibration work to do on the Nauvoo's sensor arrays.
So I'm going to need you to get all your people off the ship and I'll let you know when we're done.
We're good to go.
Get all the Mormons off the ship and get those sensors pointed toward the Donnager.
I need a full report, now.
They've got rail guns, too.
I've never seen them on ships this size.
I think they're diverting power to the rail guns.
That means we're in CQB.
- What the hell is CQB? - A close quarter battle.
Who would be insane enough to take on the Donnager in CQB? God damn it, let me out of this chair! I don't need to be here.
Put me back with my people.
Keep him quiet or gag him.
I want IDs.
We need to know their capabilities.
I'm sorry, sir, but there's nothing matching their profile in MCRN or UN records.
Isolate each vessel.
I want detailed imagery and drive signatures on every one of them.
Captain to DC-4.
I've seen a ship like that before.
Splash three and four! Lieutenant, the main drive is overloading.
We have to shut it down.
Uh, guys - Drive's out.
- Good.
No, this ain't good at all.
You know, for a badass Mickie Navy boy, you're a pretty whiny little bitch.
I was just a transport pilot, you yahoo! You understand? I wasn't trained for this shit! I was a glorified bus driver, okay? You satisfied? Oh, man, this is not supposed to be happening.
- Shh, hey, Alex.
- No, no, no, no, no, no! Hey, hey, hey, hey! Look what I got.
Huh? Everything's going to be okay, okay? This is going to calm you right down.
Trust me, we're all going to be just We need to plug the holes! Rail gun one is down, master caution is lit.
Man down! Medics to CIC.
You said you've seen this ship before.
One just like it blew up the Canterbury.
Can we get security to the hull, please.
- They stopped firing.
Why? - Confirm massive hull damage.
Breaching pods on deck.
We're being boarded.
- Captain, this man has something to tell you.
- Not now, Lieutenant.
The ships you're fighting are just like the ones that blew up the Canterbury.
Whoever's responsible for this is trying to frame Mars for everything.
Lopez, I want you to get Mr.
Holden off of this ship and safely back to MCRN Command.
He's the only person who can directly testify to this.
Understood, sir.
Take him.
Hold on.
I'm not going anywhere without my shipmates.
Get him in his suit! Make sure you get this off with him.
The air rushed out of holes on both sides of the room, which means we're surrounded by hard vacuum.
We're trapped.
Maybe maybe we can force the door.
- Mars builds too well, you know that.
- Damn it! We'd still be screwed because we don't have our pressure suits.
Atmosphere systems are still out.
I figure we have maybe 20 minutes of air left.
Crap! What're you doing? Sedative.
There's enough here to take one of us out, which will slow down their breathing and cut down our oxygen use.
- Maybe buy us a little more extra time.
- For what? You think someone's going to come and get us? We don't have comms, we can't call for help.
Do you got a better plan? It's my idea.
I'll take the shot.
No! We need you conscious.
He's an Earther, he uses the most air.
He should do it! I can carry you.
You can't carry me.
Damn it.
I wanna wake up.
I want to say thank you.
You know, for helping me all those times you did.
You're a good person.
I could've been better.
I didn't even get to say goodbye.
To who? It doesn't matter.
You know what really chaps my ass? The fact that I'm here protecting some lousy Earth taker while my ship's getting pounded and my buddies are dying.
Then why don't you go help them and let me go help mine.
We have our orders.
Duty means something on Mars.
I'd be happy to let you go.
I heard you and your friends were responsible for Phoebe.
I know nothing about Phoebe.
Why don't you just ask him? Fall back and cover! Holden! Get back and stay back! And stay down! Holden, stop! God damn it, Holden! Get back here! Okay, I'm here.
What's so important that I had to drop everything and come to this hell hole? - Recognize this guy? - Yeah.
The stiff you found in the Square.
- I heard it was a murder.
- Look at this.
Great, you found his ID.
That's how it's supposed to work.
It's not him, see.
Every time I sample the guy, I get a different ID comes up with a face that looks like it could be a match.
Your stiff's got a lot of implants.
I bet he has an ID spoofer mod.
They're designed to spin cops, waste their time chasing down false leads.
The only guys who really use them are crooks.
Successful ones.
They're not cheap.
You are way more of a gear-head than I ever was.
- Can you help me ID him? - Miller, you have a partner for this kind of stuff.
No, I tried Havelock, he didn't want to be found.
I've done the same from time to time.
Please? Well, if he has a spoofer, then he's probably got a bunch of other shady shit in him.
Standard inner-ear mike, spinal stabilizer, pancreatic pump, run of the mill, for the sedentary.
Ha! He's got a memory crypt in his calf.
Let's take it out.
- I'll get the Coroner.
- No.
That guy talks too much.
Here we go.
Damn it.
Well, it's not like I'm hurting the guy.
Content's encrypted, obviously.
But judging by the file names, these are government records.
Customs documents, corporate R&D This guy was a data broker.
Well, whatever he brokered, must have been important enough to get him killed.
- What're you not telling me? - Nothing.
It's better if you don't know.
I don't need you to protect me.
I'm not protecting you.
I I hate it when you do this.
Come on.
All right.
Leave him a message.
Hey, look, um I don't care if you're up to your whatever in whoever, but when you come up for air, I'm gonna need you to cover for me with Shaddid, okay? I can't give you any details, but just use your imagination, all right? I know you can be a devious son of a bitch when you want to be.
I'd do the same for you.
Oh shit! Shit! I'll get help! Somebody help! This officer needs help! Help me! Let go.
Don't make me shoot you.
You won't.
His weapon is keyed to his armor, you couldn't have fired it.
You're welcome.
Mole's dead, asshole.
I'm sorry, I really am.
But I won't testify to anything unless you help me get my friends off this ship.
- Shut up.
I want to speak to him.
- Yes, sir.
He doesn't look like any OPA grunt I've ever seen.
Tech is way too advanced.
Who are you working for? Why did you destroy the Canterbury? Phoebe Station.
Were you there? You were.
What happened? Listen to me very carefully.
If you want medical attention, you start speaking now.
We'll all be dead soon enough.
- Let's go.
- Please.
You have to help me get my friends.
You wouldn't leave one of yours behind.
We're marines.
We've sworn to die for each other if we have to.
You barely know those other people.
They're only here because of me.
I'll make you a deal.
Oh, Shed.
Hey, are you okay? You came back? Of course I did.
The deal is this.
You will all testify that Mars had nothing to do with the Canterbury's destruction.
Suit up fast, the air seal is temporary.
We have to move.
- What's wrong with Alex? - He took one for the team.
I'll carry him.
Come on, buddy.
We gotta suit up.
We can't get pinned down again, we need a clear route to the hangar bay.
I'm trying, sir, but our ship is crawling with scumbags.
We've all lost people we care about.
And I don't even have a clue as to why.
But I keep hearing about Phoebe Station.
And if we're all going to die because of it, can't you at least tell me what the hell happened there? Donnager was dispatched to Phoebe Station after she went silent for several weeks.
Why? We still don't know.
Everyone on board was dead.
Their bodies were incinerated.
We found them re-frozen to the walls of the ice tunnels.
We thought it was a fire or a chemical spill, but then we discovered that all the computer cores were destroyed.
You mean someone did it deliberately? They were covering something up.
- Like what? - I don't know.
What happened? The Captain has set Condition Zero.
She's going to scuttle the ship.
Hull breach, deck four, critical.
Boarders are converging on engineering, aux, CIC and the bridge.
Has the ready standby left the hangar bay? Negative, sir.
It's still there.
- Captain.
- Not yet.
This has to count for something.
Dookie ready.
Grimes in position.
Mag boots off.
Move as fast as you can.
Everybody on my mark.
Standby for cover fire.
Hey, hey! Don't you quit on me.
All right.
Ready? Go! Go! What the hell are we supposed to do now? What about the others? They're gone.
We have to dust off now.
I'm not a pilot.
Someone else needs to fly.
- What? Whoa! - Go! Authorize full operational control of all systems for everyone now on board.
Boss, I don't think I'm in any condition to - Get us out of here! - You got it.
I need some juice.
Okay, sweetheart, be gentle with me.
This is my first time.
Evasive maneuvers.
Max burn.
Do not let anyone stay on our tail.
You got it, hoss I mean Yes, sir.
It would've been nice to see an ocean on Mars.
- The Tachi is away.
- Sir.
Captain, this door won't hold much longer.
I didn't think we could lose.
I'm doing it.
I'm doing it.
Son of a bitch!
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