Previously on Gene Roddenberry's: Earth Final Conflict.
Shields are down, we've got to get off!
Those are nuclear warheads coming at us.
We will survive you, after all, Da'an.
We will take great pleasure in watching the last of your species die.
The only way for a Taelon or a Jaridian to survive
is for both species to give up the fight and to return to their origin.
Perhaps it is not in our destiny to survive.
Together you were Atavus.
Together, and only together, you will survive as Atavus.
- Liam, you've got to get the hell out of there now! - I can't. I'm needed here.
Didn't you hear what she said, the thing about to blow?
Liam!
I don't know what they'll become, but... it's in the hands of destiny now.
The third time is a charm, so they say.
Do I hear a doubting Thomas in the room, director?
Well General, so far, no one even come close to blowing the lid off that Taelon coffin,
including the Chinese and the Russians.
Well, we've learned from their mistakes, hopefully.
And the risks are certainly worth the rewards, sir.
It's "finders keepers" up there.
An exclusive patent right on all Taelon tech found on board.
And we certainly don't want it falling into anyone else's hands.
Every country with nuclear capability has thrown their hat in the ring.
It's the biggest show on earth.
They've diverted a portion of the magnetic shield.
They are locking onto the aft deck...
Now.
God bless America.
Ten grand says they come home a winner.
Hey, come on, General. Who's the doubting Thomas now?
We've got a bio-scan signal from the mothership.
You mean from the salvage team.
No.
- From someone on board. - That's impossible.
There's nobody alive up there.
We haven't heard blip since the Taelons checked out.
My god.
In the 21st century,
an alien species, known as the Taelons, came to earth with a promise of peace.
They lied.
Their true agenda was to dominate us.
After years of struggle, the Taelons have perished,
leaving more aggressive beings in their wake...
the Atavus.
Synchro: Team Trad. EFC
Transcript: Team Trad. EFC
My name is Renée Palmer.
My mission is to stop this new species from dominating our planet.
This is earth's final conflict.
...
- Liam... - No time for goodbyes, Renée.
- I just need to see this thing through. - I understand.
Let's go.
I'm sure I speak for the entire board, Miss Palmer, when I say that,
as chief financial officer, I'm extremely distressed
by your continual unauthorized use of company funds, equipment and personnel for this...
- "Search and rescue" mission of yours. - As I am equally distressed, Mr. Henson,
that I have not as yet been able to confirm what happened
to Liam Kincaid and the surviving Taelons and Jaridians on the Kamchatka peninsula.
- They perished, Miss Palmer. - Well, I disagree.
Liam had portaled right into the Atavus regeneration chamber
which is located a mile down in the volcanic magma, so yes,
- it stands to reason that he could has survived. - Reason, reason or lack thereof...
is what's at issue here.
And clearly, you left reason on that peninsula.
Are we going to debate my sanity now?
Call it post-traumatic stress, whatever you want.
It's been months, Miss Palmer...
Months of watching you... abandon your responsibilities to this company.
Months of watching you bleed us financially...
I seriously doubt our profit picture has suffered any.
Meanwhile, just yesterday, our satellite scan detected a micro-transmission frequency
- ten miles east off Kamchatka. - You are not hearing me.
The Taelons are gone, their embassies are closed,
the mothership is sealed and is drifting in a degrading orbit.
Humanity has moved on, why can't you?
Because Liam Kincaid may still be in that chamber alive, and if he's not,
then we owe it to him to find out what he died for.
I'm sorry, but we just can not share
- your sense of obligation. - You know what? Obviously...
Obviously you don't.
Your complaints are duly noted as are ours. Now...
The board is giving you a choice, Miss Palmer.
Either you end this fruitless quest, or you resign.
If you choose the latter, we are prepared to offer you a preferred rate
for your voting block of shares.
I'll take the fair market value, thank you very much.
Legal will draw up the papers.
...
Oh, I warned you not to walk in here ahead of me, didn't I?
You know this guy?
- Meet your new crew. - What?
What?!
You didn't lease a sub just see you could leave it soaking in the harbour, did you?
- No. - Well, then, you need a crew.
- So, I thought... - Where did you find them?
The cyber want ads. Under a "V" for volunteers.
- Of course. - Ex-volunteer.
Uh, navy that is.
The name is Simms, ma'am, captain's rank.
Put in my 20, mostly on subs. All makes and models.
I brought a few mates along. They've got depth, so to speak.
And Keeler here is an ex-companion protector. He knew Liam.
Tell her.
- I knew Liam. - Great. Street?
Ex-pro-Taelon storm troopers are not exactly what I had in mind.
- What exactly did you have in mind? - I need,
highly qualified, trustworthy, insurable personnel come on.
She means, avoid anything with the Taelon stick on it, that is what you mean right?
Yeah, that's what I mean, exactly, yeah.
See, I have these long-standing grievances against anyone who choose the alien agenda
over the human agenda.
What can I say?
You know, lady, everybody's entitled to their past.
Now, presently you need to find who you're looking for and we need to work.
Right, forgive and forget, huh?
It sounds like a human agenda to me.
The bulkheads and nuke drives of these class-three attack subs are first rate.
Should take us down to 700 feet without busting a stitch.
How conforting.
Jens will have to double up as planesman and helmsman. I can handle ballast and navigation,
- but we'll need a sonar man. - Street's your man.
What?
Oh Renée, Renée, no, listen...
I'm putting in for a permanent shore leave, ok?
I've got this thing about confined spaces you know.
No, no, no I need you here. You'll be fine.
She's versed in all tech frequencies and scan gear. She's been shadowing the Taelon mothership for years now.
- I think she can handle things here. - Fine.
Let's go below and see what the other boys are up to.
Ladies first.
Watch your head.
- Hey Cap... - Hi, Blake.
Did you pick up an auxiliary tank for purification yet?
- I like H²O without salt. - Done Cap, we're sailing free and fully hydrated.
But the toilet in the crew's quarters clogged up. Jens is on it.
But is he fixing it?
I thought it was funny.
Combs...
- what do you think, can she sink and swim? - Oh, she's down for the full medley skipper.
Got Enough nuke juice to go 20 Knots topside, 30 plus down under.
- So, captain, how soon can we be underway? - Ready when you are, ma'am.
Now hear this, to your stations. Prepare to cast-off.
Jens, wash up and report to the control room on the double.
Position 3,7 Miles, SouthEast
Ok, we are coming into that triangulated area where your satellite picked up the transmission.
- And you think it might have been a S.O.S. from Liam? - We can hope.
Months without food or water in an alien lockbox, odds are...
I told you It's a regeneration chamber. I was there, it had these...
these big sarcophagus-like biostasis pods that can keep you in limbo indefinitely.
All Liam had to do to stay alive was park himself inside one.
That would be my call.
You know, he never mentioned you.
Yeah, well he never mentioned you, either.
Heads up! I'm getting something.
Some sort of sonar aberrations about two miles south of us,
- steady and stable. - Jens, 12 degrees, right rudder.
Aye, sir, 12 degrees right.
It's getting louder now. Off starboard. I think it's a global frequency.
Liam.
The lava flow created a wide bed there, about 200 feet down.
He's buried in there somewhere, I know it. We've got to get a visual on that chamber.
- How close can we get to this lava bed? - Close enough to scrape the barnicles of her bottom.
Jens, flood the neg tank!
Maintain normal course. Take us down to one-eight-zero.
Combs!
Pull the plug!
Prepare to dive. I repeat, prepare to dive!
It's getting louder. Eight degrees starboard, maybe 400 yards.
Jens, eight degrees starboard, reduce speed, keep an eye on our BCP.
Hold on, hold on... Listen to this.
What's that undertone?
Yeah, I hear it. That's the global frequency.
It's coming from the lava bed, point two-six-zero.
We're getting picture now.
Come on, come on, where is it?
I don't see the chamber.
Well, if it's there, it must be encased in the lava.
Why don't we use our submersible? Drill our way down into it.
Good idea, but it'll take too long. Better we sever the reef at its base.
- What? ake a torpedo run at it? - Right.
Renée, no. It's too dangerous.
No, no, that chamber is buried in there, that means the volcano has launched it, what a good ten miles.
I think it can handle a minor concussion.
Lava's porous. Should bust up pretty good.
Let's do it.
Combs, load the forward torpedo bay with a half load of torpex.
Set target for a quarter mile.
Jens, reverse engines, standard rudder, quarter to port.
Reversing engines at ten knots, quarter to port.
We're prepped here in the bay, captain. Ready to ring the bell.
Outer doors open.
Fire at will!
Jens, give me video off the bow.
Brace yourselves, boys and girls.
Careful.
Easy...
Easy...Come about now, six degrees starboard.
6 Degrees starboard...
Mark.
Can we get a digital enhancement on this, Street?
Hang on, going to infrared.
Hold it. Back it up.
Right there, you see that? It's sort of doorway or a hatch.
Yeah, yeah, I see it.
Are we still getting a global frequency?
Yep, definitely from inside the chamber.
- It has to be Liam's. - Let's park alongside it.
- Lock on with our docking ring. - That's what it's there for.
Mr Keeler, run up your men with a couple of laser torches and report to the forward compartment hatch.
Aye, aye, sir.
Hang on, Liam. We're coming for you.
Level out dive planes.
Plant your feet everybody, and hang on.
- Hold up, madam. - Renée.
Renée, Renée, that's...
that's pretty. Look,
we don't know what the hell we're gonna find inside that alien mobile home there,
so why don't you just let me and my men go in first and secure the place?
- I'm going with you. - No, not a good idea.
Look,
my mission is to find Liam Kincaid, YOU are not in charge.
That's true,
but isn't your first responsibility to this submarine and the welfare of your crew?
Miss Palmer, the docking ring's in place and electromagnetically sealed.
We've pumped her dry and we're good to go.
alright, it's your show.
But I want your guys on audio and wearing helmet cams. Got it?
Yes, sir.
Can we get access? What's it made of?
I don't know. It's some sort of ceramic with magnetic properties.
Nothing on our periodic table, that's for sure.
It's only about 12 inches thick. I think we can through it.
Okay, Yates! Fletcher! Let's get to work!
Hello?
Who's on the line?
No visible activity. No motion detection.
- Control, are you getting anything? - Affirmative.
Your scanner's sending back a bioenergy reading.
- It's got to be Liam's. - From where?
I can't tell, everywhere.
Keeler, check the stasis pods.
Nobody home.
Check them all.
I don't get it, I'm still getting major biofluctuations.
Fall back! Fall back!
Keeler, what the hell is going on?
Get back to the damn hatch now!
Sweet mother of mercy.
Hang on, Keeler.
Sarge, help me!
Back off you sons of bitches! Back off!
Hold on, pull!
No, please, oh god... Noooo...!
Fletcher!
No Keeler, he's gone! He's gone. Fall back, fall back!
Close the damn hatch, now!
What was it?
I don't know. It just dropped down from the ceiling and ambushed us.
The only thing I know is there's nothing human alive in there.
I found this.
Liam's?
I'm sorry.
Anything comes through that door, kill it.
- Street. - Oh god, Renée.
- It's Fletcher, he's... - Poor lad's still alive.
Palmer!
I just lost two good men in there.
Now, your search and rescue mission is over. You got it?
He's right.
It's time to bury the past and get the hell out of here.
Liam?
Let's surface, captain.
And on the way up, you send a torpedo into that damn thing.
We don't want whatever's in there to get out, you understand?
My sentiments exactly, and...
My condolences, too.
Jens, trim tanks, and take us up to 120.
I want angle on the bow for a clean shot at two clicks.
Combs, get your tail back down below, and prep another mark-14.
- What was that? - Hell if I know.
Jens, switch to auxiliary power and get on the I.C to the engine room.
Aye, sir.
- My god... we've got to surface. - Easy now.
- We've got to surface now! Oh god. - It's gonna be alright.
- We're stuck down here. - Sit down. Sit down.
- Renée, we're stuck down here. - Relax. Sit down.
- Oh, god. - It's gonna be fine. LOOK AT ME.
It's gonna be fine.
I.C. switchboard's back up, cap.
Combs,
we're still on the bottom and doing the touchy-feely up here.
Where the hell is that auxiliary juice I asked for?
Diverting power now, skipper.
Auxiliary power is on line, cap.
Take her up.
- Please? Do it now? - Easier said than done, missy.
We're still anchored to that alien lockbox.
The docking ring, she's magnetized to it somehow.
Hydraulics aren't responding.
- Won't it tear off as we surface? - Maybe... pretty risky.
- We could pitch and roll. - What? You got an alternative?
Jens...
I want 12 degrees angle on the boat, blow ballast.
- I want full bow buoyancy on the double! - Right away, sir.
I'm picking up some kind of alien speak.
From inside the chamber?
No, from inside the sub.
Keeler, lock and load. Meet me in the crew quarters now.
Clear back there.
After you.
Hold it.
I'll check the engine level. You cover me from up here.
Yes, sir.
- Yo, easy, major. - Combs!
Sir, how did they get in? I thought we were sealed shut.
I didn't have time to ask.
- Oh, boy. - Stubborn son of a bitch.
Shut it!
Major... He's got a friend.
Renée I'm down here with Combs. There's one in the engine room, one banging at the door.
- We could use a hand. - Sorry, I'm a little busy right now.
Miss Palmer...
Taelons.
- So you're behind these mutants. - No, far from it.
I am Raj'el, sire of the synod,
guardian of the collective consciousness of all Taelons.
Why are we under attack?
I am afraid we have unleashed the final conflict, Miss Palmer.
What? Final conflict? What the hell are you talking about?
Human destiny.
The last stage of the gauntlet, one I helped put in motion,
to my everlasting shame.
Spare me the metaphysical crap.
Liam gave his life to save your species and the Jaridians.
This is not exactly the thank you, he had in mind.
Liam was chosen to lead humanity into its darkest hour,
as you have been chosen to lead humanity out and toward the light.
- More mind games. - Please, Miss Palmer.
I do not seek to harm you. You must do as I say.
Place my host back inside the regeneration chamber.
I will reconstitute myself and be able to guide and protect you from these Atavus
these murderous, ancestral cast-offs.
No, you know what? I don't have time for this. You're on your own.
Now you're officially extinct.
Keeler, hold your position.
If they take the engine room, it's game over.
Then tell Simms to get this sewer pipe to the surface, now.
Easy, it's me.
- Jeez-Louise, I'm too old for this. - You gotta take us up faster.
No can do, we're dragging dead weight. We go any faster, we roll belly-up.
Damn it!
- What do you want? - Where are we?
- What is this vessel? - You're aboard a submarine. Underwater.
- Earth is a world of water now? - No...
nor are we your enemy.
We were trying to save the Taelons and the Jaridians. But...
obviously, something went wrong and we got you...
Whatever you are.
We are Atavus.
And this is our world, human...
Not yours!
We're losing bow buoyancy, cap! We're pitched 40 degrees, listing to port.
- What's he saying? - We're in a nose dive.
That damn death chamber won't let loose.
Bloodsucker!
Depth now 350...360...
I'm going back to the forward compartment hatch,
drop a grenade into the docking ring, that should shake it loose.
Yep! First let me see if I can level her out a bit.
Combs! Combs, reverse engines...
give me 600 P.S.I. through the air manifold to bow.
Combs!
Keeler!
Combs is dead.
Depth?
- Just passing 700 now, cap. - Keeler!
You've got to get to the engine room. Throw those controls into reverse.
Another 100 feet, we'll be spitting rivets. Okay, Keeler!
Right, I'm behind the reactor glass, port side, where are they?
Aft, starboard side.
Oh, right in the kill zone. Great.
alright, I'll do what I can, but you'd better have a plan "B".
Keeler, hold your position.
- What about using portals? - That could work.
Ladies, whatever it is, you'd better get to it quick.
Watch your eyes! 3, 2, 1!
It's working, it's working! We're getting bow buoyancy.
I don't know how long will the polarity's gonna last.
- Cap, you can handle things here? - I can and I will.
Jens, grab a weapon and come with me. You too, Street.
- Simms, what's our depth now? - 400 and change.
- Keeler, come in. - Good of you to call.
We're above the service ladder. What are we looking at?
One's on your left as you come down and the other one's working his way through the hatch.
I'll take the one to my left. You take the other.
Roger.
- Cover the hole. Shoot to kill. - Renée...
If this goes south, pull the pin. Run for an escape pod.
Gotta go.
Renée, you alright?
Adios, Atavus.
- Are you okay? - I've been better.
It killed Jens...
- It was feeding... off his heart. - You're gonna be alright.
Okay...
Get in the escape pod. I want you out of here. Go on, go... go.
You, too.
Someone's got to protect the engine room, remember?
I've gotta get to the forward compartment, to free that docking ring from the chamber.
I'll cover you.
Be careful.
We meet again. Now, you have one less Atavus to contend with.
So it would seem.
I must return to the regeneration chamber.
It is my only chance to fully reconstitute myself and help you.
- As what? - As I am. As a Taelon.
The last of my kind.
Neither I, nor any of my brethren had any intention of resurrecting these Atavus.
They are a scourge, sentient parasites who will feed upon humanity
until they have completely annihilated or co-opted your species.
We must not let them return to earth.
We must not let history repeat itself.
History?
What history?
Well, well, well. Look what we've spawned.
You're a female.
You noticed.
- You're not like the other humans. - Yeah, I get that a lot.
Come one, come on. You old Russian mama bear, you show me what you're made of.
Human.
Your species has changed.
Your garments, your hair, skin... You're even more alluring than I remember.
- How many are there of you now? - 5.5 Billion.
We've all had our fill of alien visitations.
You are the aliens.
This is our planet. We came, we conquered.
We altered life forms within the ecosystem...
Even introduced some of our own.
If it weren't for the asteroid swarm that forced us underground into stasis, you
wouldn't even exist.
Well, we do...
so it looks like you've lost your lease,
Atavus.
My name is Howlyn.
Yeah, well tell me something, Howlyn. Why the killing spree?
Why are you murdering those who resurrected you from the dead?
We need to feed.
We must feed on sentient life force to sustain our carbon-based longevity.
You're kidding.
Humans are... were, that is,
a rare delicacy.
Now, it would appear there is an abundant supply.
Your dining privileges... They've been revoked.
You are a delicious, spirited creature, aren't you?
And look what a little bioengineering can bring forth.
I have awakened to a kingdom...
A kingdom that will bring me an empire.
Think again.
Keeler?
It's a no-go with that docking ring.
We've got to scuttle the sub.
Right, I'll set a timer to detonate a torpedo.
- You got an exit strategy? - Not yet.
Simms?
Keeler, come in.
Keeler, Simms is dead, so is our portal I.D. drag.
We're floundering at 60 feet and heading back down.
- And your plan is? - The only one we got.
Set the detonator and meet me in the forward escape hatch.
We'll swim for the surface. It's our only chance.
Hey, you're the C.O.
Keeler!
- Hang on, I'm almost finished. - Keeler behind you!
Alright, timer is set. Two minutes. Go, get the hell out of here.
I'll handle these bastards.
Ok...
I've got you.
Oh god, I can't believe you're ok.
Good to be back.
You've no idea how happy I am seeing you. Are you ok?
Oh, here, let's get that thing off.
Are you alright?
What was that?
The sub.
What about Keeler?
I'm just so glad you're ok.
Hey, maybe somebody found us.
Welcome aboard.
We...
have much to discuss.