Archer (2009–…): Season 3, Episode 12 - Space Race: Part I - full transcript

The ISIS staff is called by ISA to stop the international space station from being taken over by space pirates. During training, Cyril proves to be a more than adequate pilot, a skill which will prove valuable when they return. While on the mission, Malory attempts to make drinks in low gravity, Cyril one again shows he has no concept of what "suppressing fire" is and Lana has an unusually weak stomach.

Mayday. Mayday. Mayday.

This is Commander Kellogg
of I.S.A. Space Station Horizon.


to Commander Drake.
Tony, the crew has...

We are under... I say
again, we are under...




And that, Mrs. Archer...

Ms. Don't.

Ah. Ms. Archer, I
beg your pardon.


That was the last
transmission from the Horizon.

Which, obviously, pretty vague.

Vague? You heard
Commander Kellogg.

He said the Horizon
is under attack.

Well, under something.

He could've been
saying "underfinanced."

What? Sterling...

What, they're
always whining about

needing more money
for their boondocks.

Doggles. What?

You think space
exploration is a boondoggle?

Well, come on, in this economy?

Exactly. Now, more than ever,
is when we need to look to space

for the solution to
mankind's problems.

In 200 years, Earth's population

will exceed her
capacity to produce food.

And even as the famines
begin, global war will erupt

as fresh water becomes
scarcer than gold.

But if we begin now,

using the lessons learned
aboard Space Station Horizon,

a small group of brave
colonists can terraform Mars.

And mankind can finally
slip the surly bonds of Earth

to live forever among the stars.

Yeah, Lana. Wha...?

Jesus, read a book
once in your life.

So where does ISIS
fit in, commander?

Well... I think that's
a bit premature

until we discuss
our fee structure.

As to that, you can
name your price.

Oh, now they've got... Enough.

Commander? As to our role?

Horizon has an
international crew.

American, German,
Chinese, French...

ARCHER: Ba-dum-bum!

Uh, sorry. I thought
"French" was a joke.

Is mutiny funny
to you, Mr. Archer?

I don't know, maybe
a mutiny of clowns.

Because I fear that one faction,

led by radical
nationalists, has mutinied.

But who? Which one?

If he knew, he would
tell us. Read a book.

And since I don't know which
faction is behind the mutiny...

If there even was one.

I can't trust
anyone at the I.S.A.

which is why I came to ISIS.

Because of our loyalty.

Or lack thereof. Or whatever.

Because I need a small
cadre of highly trained agents

to fly into orbit and help
me retake control of Horizon.

Nope. Archer. Yep. Lana.

He just said "highly trained."
And last time I checked

none of us were even lowly
trained to be astronauts.

Well, how hard could it be?


But since apparently
money is no object...

The training schedule will
have to be highly compressed.

The shuttle Intrepid is
launching in three days.

And I won't lie to you. This
mission will be dangerous.

Would you say we'd be
venturing into a zone of danger?

Well, yes, obviously.

No, I mean how
would you phrase that?

I... The zone will
be one of danger?

No, I mean... Not... If
you'd say the thing...

Forget it. Never mind.

And you never mind
and also shut up.


ARCHER: Ow! Jesus,
Krieger, that's the bone.

Oh, the mean doctor takes
the widdle baby's blood,

and widdle baby goes...
Ow! You're a baby.

And astronaut training
sucks complete ass. Literally.

What is the deal
with all the enemas?


And why do you
need so much blood?

Wait. Now that I
think about it, why...

Why is this man in
the restricted area?

Who? Him?

You. Krieger.

Uh, smoke bomb!

And why aren't you
with the other trainees?

I was told I had to undergo

a bunch of extremely
invasive medical tests.

Well, normally you
would, but by our doctors.

But since you're on such an
accelerated training schedule...

Six enemas is a luxury
we can ill afford. Got it.


Who knows? He put
me under. Maybe 12.

Now you've wasted half a day,

so the other trainees
are way ahead of you.

Not for long they're not.


Well, he's eager,
I'll give him that.

Well, you inspire him.

With all those medals
on that powerful chest.

Your wife is a very
lucky... Oh. I'm a widower.

Oh. Difficult to meet people,
isn't it, in jobs like ours?

I only mention it because
I also happen to be single.

Yes, I know.

Excuse me.


I hope to God that was alcohol.

LANA: No. Yes.

Damn it, Archer.
It's my turn. Cyril.

Cyril, Drake said let me fly it.

Cut it out, Archer. I'm landing.
COMPUTER: Fifty meters, forty.

Come on, baby,
keep that nose up.

COMPUTER: 30 meters...

Aah! What the...?

COMPUTER: Explosive


ARCHER: Happy, Cyril?

You just destroyed Alderaan.

Damn it, that was closer

than any of us have
gotten to actually landing.

A, because you're all
crap. And B, who cares?

We're not gonna land it.

What the hell... Is
going on in here?


Saw an electrical
fire in the simulator.

And knowing that my
colleague's life was in danger, I...

Acted without thinking.

As always. Not always.

Well, thank God you did.

What...? But almost always.

Because that's exactly the kind

of decisive action
this mission calls for.

You could all learn from him.

Oh, my God. Come on.

Starting with a little training
exercise we lightheartedly call

the Vomit Comet!


DRAKE: And if you're
wondering why we call it that...


GILLETTE: It's all in my hair.

CYRIL: Oh, Jeezy H. Petes.

ARCHER: The hell is
wrong with you, Lana?

DRAKE: That's
why we call it that.

What possible reason could there
be to subject human beings to...


Such mind-shattering

The KC-135 flies
in a parabolic arc...

Ha, ha. Who cares?

Which allows us to achieve

weightlessness for
about 30 seconds.

We'll do this 20 times...


So you can get acquainted

with the sensation
of being weightless.

It takes some time
getting used to, but...


Agent Kane, are you all right?

Yep, yep, yep.

What is going on with you?

Do not like.

What, are you crazy?
What's not to... Oh.

No. Archer, no!

Please don't do this.

What's that? Sorry, I couldn't
hear you over the sound of the...


Come on!

Looking good!
Only 19 more to go!

LANA: Nineteen more times

until there was literally no
more fluid left in my body.

And thanks so
much for that. Cyril.

She's not the one who
kept riding you into it,

holding your mouth open.

Jeez. Even in zero
gravity, you're an asshole.

You were saying? To the
wet-towel wielding survivor

of 15 years of boarding
school locker rooms?

Wait, 15?

Or whatever. The normal number.

Twelve? DRAKE: Yes.

We will launch in 12 hours. We
received another transmission

from the Horizon.
They can't wait.

But we haven't
been trained properly!

To what? Wear a seat belt?

Actually, is it a
five-point harness, or...?

DRAKE: I admit this
isn't an ideal scenario.

Speaking of, what's the scenario
when we get to the Horizon?

We don't have a
tactical plan. We don't...

Plenty of time to discuss
our plan during the flight.

But... Lana. What
has gotten into you?

More like what got out of her.

Sir, I'm not sure
Lana... Sorry, honey.

Is physically
capable of spaceflight.

Ray. Actually, I might
not be cut out for it.

I'm sorry to hear
that, Agent Kane.

Because you're going.



To a zone

which is one of danger.


COMPUTER: T-minus 90 seconds.

DRAKE: Roger, Control.
All systems are go.

Next stop, Horizon.

Okay. Archer?

I'm sorry. Are
you talking to me?

Or to her? Who...
Why is she here?

MALORY: Because Tony
invited me. ARCHER: Tony?

You trying to get my mother
into the Million-Mile-High Club?

Sterling. Archer.

Would you calm the hell down?

I am calm! I'm also out of here.

Take your hands
off that harness.

Make me.

And just so you know.

She... Aah!

Can't breathe.

INTERCOM]: We're showing

suit number two with
an O2 malfunction.

Double-check that. I'm
showing green across the board.

MAN: Stand by. That's
a roger, standing by.


please. He'll behave.

Won't he?

DRAKE: Excellent.


Because I won't... I can't.

Let anyone jeopardize
the success of this mission.

MAN: Flight, O2 on suit
two is showing normal.

But keep an eye on it.

Oh, I will.

Hooray. Resume
countdown, Control.

MAN: Roger, Flight.

COMPUTER: T-minus five, four...

Exciting, isn't it? Three,

two, one.

I think it is.

COMPUTER: Ignition.

MAN: Liftoff.



Just relax and rely
on your training.

Which we didn't have!

Because Phase
Two is a little rough.

Two? What's Phase...?



That was Phase Two.

Did not like.

Wait'll you see Phase Three.

ALL: What's Phase Three?

I'm kidding. There
is no Phase Three.

Just a little space humor.

ARCHER: Yeah, funny stuff.

DRAKE: Right?

Right, then. I
want to brief you all

on what to expect when
we dock with Horizon.

Uh, can we expect a pharmacy?

Lana, it's not a strip mall.

Although, I assume
there's a bar?

A bar? Or, whatever. Cantina?

Uh, no. Please pay attention.

We'll dock here,
move forward on foot

toward Horizon's bridge...

Wait, on foot?

Horizon has artificial gravity.

Look. See how it spins
on its longitudinal axis?

Lana, look at it spin.

When we reach the bridge,
we'll retake control of Horizon.

But we can expect
heavy resistance.

I'm sure the
mutineers are armed.

With what, slide rules and Tang?

The M-41 Mark Two
plasma-pulse rifle

with concussion
grenade launcher.

Holy shit!

On "kill" mode, the M-41
fires lethal plasma ammunition.

On "stun," it fires an ion
pulse, similar to an EMP.

And can it be fired
with an erection?

Oh, for God's sake.
Archer! Muzzle!

Relax, it's on stun, Lana.

Careful. Even on stun, it can...



Clear. Clear!


As I was saying,

it's possible for the EMP
to stop a man's heart.

So "stun" may be
a bit of a misnomer.

Damn it, Archer.

I'm not the one
who was all sweaty.

Mr. Archer, that's twice

you've jeopardized the
success of this mission.

There will not be a third.

Uh, flight, we have a problem.

Well, don't look at me.

DRAKE: My God.
On this trajectory,

we'll miss Horizon.
Control, what happened?

MAN: Burn rates were
good. Flight, uh, stand by.

Uh, flight, we're showing that
you are grossly overweight.

PAM: Oh, for...

I wouldn't say grossly.
CHERYL: I would.

DRAKE: I would be
well within my rights

to jettison both
of you into space.

Well within them. Malory.

However, for, uh,
numerous reasons,

one being this ship
can't actually do that,

I've decided to
take you with us.


But I want to know
how you got aboard.

What do you mean, how? Mr. Ar...


Yeah, so that
safety is tricky, huh?

Clear. Clear!

PAM: Ow!



Son of a shit-snacking whore.

Mr. Figgis.

Lock that man in the cargo hold.

Who, me?


Ms. Archer.

In case I need to
sterilize something.

DRAKE: Get strapped in.

Agent Gillette, monitor
this woman's vital signs.

Agent Kane, come with me.

I may need some help
getting us to Horizon.

So that we don't
die writhing in agony,

when we run out of oxygen.

Yeah, been there. No picnic.

Uh, speaking of,
great for picnics.

The tofu teriyaki, not so much.

CHERYL: There's teriyaki?

CYRIL: No. Cyril,
come on, let me out.

No, you jerk. You shoot me in
the heart with a space-blaster?

Are you k... You're
still mad about that?

Not to mention
whatever idiot reason

you had for smuggling
Pam on board.

You're screwing him, aren't you?

What? Yes.

No! Because if we don't die,

for all I care, you
can rot in there.

ARCHER: Cyril? Cyril!

Well, good luck
fighting a bunch of...

- -space-pirates without me.


[BLEEP] you, space.


DRAKE: Come on, baby,
just a few more seconds!

Damn it!

I don't know if that
was a long enough burn.

Agent Kane, I need a readout.

Ugh! For God's sakes,
woman. Dramamine!

It makes me sleepy.
I think we're okay, sir.

DRAKE: Thank God,
because we're out of fuel.

What? How are we
gonna get back to Earth?

There is fuel. On Horizon.

Well, I didn't know that.

Flight computer will dock the
ship. Assemble boarding party.

Nor was I told there
would be a party.

Lana, what are you wearing?

DRAKE: Bio-matrix
composite body armor.

Effective against
small-arms fire.

And we need all
the help we can get.

Since there's only four of us.

Yeah, that seems kind of few.

If you need help,
I'll... DRAKE: No.

We can't jeopardize the women.

Cough. Well, not you.

No, Agent Kane, I'm afraid

your particular skill-set
outweighs your...


COMPUTER: Docking complete.

Is that a ghost? Nope.

Boarding party,
into the airlock.

COMPUTER: Gravity engaged.

Weapons on stun. Fast
and hard to the bridge.

And remember, these are
mutineers. Even if they try to...

Suppressing fire!

Ugh. Otherwise, just follow me.

And try not to shoot
me in the... Oh, shit.

What the hell? Is wrong with me?

It's the artificial gravity.
You have to readjust to it.

I'll get my inner
ear right on that.

We don't have time for this.

MAN: There they are!

Drop your weapons.
Drop your weapons!



Uh, so does this run
on batteries, or...?

Fire! Aah!


Get them! Get them!

Get them! Fire!

We're pinned down!

Oh, really?

You don't think I
could rock this?

Ahem. Couple things.

One, I don't know
what that means.

And two... Hang on.

Hang on.

Hang on.

Hang on.


And two, you obviously

don't know what
"boarding party" means.

Who am I, 16th century female
Irish pirate Gráinne O'Malley?

Ah! Or her sole
female descendant.

ARCHER: I'm sorry.

For what? Space-blastering
me in the fricking tits?

Or tricking me
into that fart-locker

to get blasted into
outer goddamn space

on the off chance you
might want to bang me?

Both, I guess. Look...

After you blew me off for
Katya, the big-titted cyborg.

Little Miss, uh...


Ha, ha, nice.

Thanks. And I'm sorry, but
you gotta let me out, Pam.

They're fighting space-pirates
out there. With Cyril.

You're supposed to fire!

What is wrong with you?

ARCHER: And Lana
can't even stand up.

You idiot, just reset the...


Jesus, you're like a
dog in a station wagon.


No. We're losing the beachhead.

ARCHER: They're
running out of time, Pam.

Oh, all right.

That being said...



Whoo! Okay, good luck.

Thanks. Normally,
I'd say I don't need it,

but I can barely feel my legs.

I call that the
MOAB. It stands for...

I know what it stands
for. I was there.

Please don't say it out loud.

Now, if you'll excuse
me, I need to...

Kick some
space-pirate ass! Whoo!

ALL: Archer? Hang on.

Yes, Archer, duh.

If you're done doing
each other's hair, let's...

DRAKE: Retake the ship!

Or just run around
interrupting people.

DRAKE: I'm hit, I'm hit!

Oh, for...

Do I have to do everything?

He asked, intending
to be facetious.

LANA: I'm sorry. I don't
know what's wrong with me.

Besides suffering
from gigantism?

Shut up.

The bridge! We have
to make it to the...

ARCHER: The bridge.
Yes, I heard you.

So unless we're
going the wrong way...

that's it right there.

Then shut up. God.

Okay, now what?
You can un-shut up.

The com-link, by the door.

Commander Kellogg? It's Drake.


VOICE]: "Tony"?

Oh, my God, am
I glad to see you.

We couldn't have
held out much longer.

Well, we got here
as fast as we could.

My God, you're
wounded. Put him here.

Please, we'll take those.

Yeah, and here you go.

KELLOGG: Oh, dear,
are you wounded too?

No, just... Just a
little space-sickness.

Eventually, she'll
get acclimated.

I'm... Eventually?

Yes, she's strong.
Good breeding stock.


Whoa, Charles
Benedict Davenport.

Uh, the father of eugenics.

Seriously, guys, read a book.

And two more on the Intrepid.

Stowaways, almost
as good as her.

Two more? Then
we can populate Mars

even faster than we'd hoped.

What? Did you say "Mars"?

Oh, now your ears...

Wait, why did you say Mars?

MAN: Don't you see?


They're the mutineers. Aah!



DRAKE: Welcome to the...

Danger Zone.


[English - US - Line 21]