[Full Sci Fi Movie] Star Wreck 2013 - Multi-Subtitle

ENERGIA presents

A SAMULI TORSSONEN production

A TIMO VUORENSOLA film

I would like to suggest, Emperor,
that you reconsider your plan.

The scientists are comparing it to
Russian roulette.

What theories we have on phenomena
like the maggot hole -

indicate a tendency for continually
increasing disturbances.

So what else is new.
Can we pass through there?

Our ships weren't designed for twist
pressures over one googol fluxoms.

So in other words,
you don't have a clue.

Why's everybody talk back all the
time? Try walking in my shoes!

It's no cakewalk,
managin' the whole world by myself.

Gotta admit, sometimes I think I've
gotten in too deep.

This mess began 8 years ago. My ship
blew up and I was stuck in the past.

My remaining crew and I went native -

'cos otherwise, we'd have changed
the course of history.

The only good thing in the life of
the man in the street was burgers.

With extra cheddar.

Hullo.

I'm Captain Pirk, by the way.
- Oh.

I'm from the future.

Look, I've got a ray gun.
- Hey, I can see it's a water gun.

What? It's a hand twinkler, stoopid!
- Right.

I got a communicator, too. I'll call
Info. He can prove I'm who I say.

Don't bother...

This is a place for people to eat,
not for you to play with yer balls.

Look where you're going, asshole.

Keep away or I'll shoot!
- Look, a Super Soaker.

It's a hand twinkler, you dumbass!
And I got a bag of whoopass for you!

Ya gonna get your baggy ass whooped.

The batteries are shot.
Oh Thursday, no!

Bobby's Grill.

Pirk to Dwarf.
- Captain! It's been a while.

Yeah, well, Info's been going on
about messing with the timeline.

Me, I can't wait to get away.
- Same here.

Old Earth is much more boring than its
barbarous reputation would suggest.

Just a second, Sir.

That's three hot dogs and a sausage
roll, to eat here? One minute...

Sorry, Sir. These morons
won't let me have a moment's rest.

And don't throw up everywhere!

We're closed!

Listen, I'm tired of waiting.
We need to plan our next move.

Meet me and Info at the usual place.

Hot dogs! Hot dogs!

Right. I'll call him just as soon as
I can rid these dimwits!

Lily-livered kids! I'll make
hot dogs of your intestines!

The arrival of the Vulgars shoulda
been a new beginning for humanity.

When they happened along, they ended
up with rock star Jeff Cochbrane.

It was a mistake, leaving 'em in
the care of that drunkard idiot.

Soon, the Vulgars could care less
about humanity or new beginnings.

Good thing I had a backup plan.

But I couldn't do it without
Dwarf and Info's help.

I hope you have a good reason.
We may be endangering the timeline.

Yes, in fact I do.
Take a look at this!

"Lesbian housewives getting busy?"

At this, I mean.

What an unexpected development.

The entire space program cancelled!

Not like the history we know.

The antimaterial power breakthrough
should have been announced today.

That's why we have to do something.
We'll make the P-Fleet happen!

Your proposal is in direct violation
of the First Directive!

If we don't, the timeline's history!

We'll have to have peace, universal
language, tights for uniforms, -

and a defense against the Korg!

As the only Captain, I'm ordering -

that we'll ensure the founding of
the P-Fleet, by any means necessary!

Future technology in the hands of
these people could spell disaster.

That's why the world needs
a strong leader. Someone like... me!

I'm gonna be Emperor.

One heavy cruiser should be enough
to conquer this world.

Everyone would be at our mercy.
- Unfortunately we do not have one.

And we cannot build one without
an antimaterial powerplant.

But I know where we can get one.
Gimme that phone.

Cochbrane.
Oh, it's you... hi.

Listen, where's the ship?
- What, the Vulgar rocket-ship?

We sold it to some Russian
scientist type for top dollar.

What? Who?
- Vladimir something, I forget.

Where's this Vladimir live then?
- Chanistanya Nuclear Plant, I think.

Who the hell gave you permission
to sell the ship, you son of a bitch?

Well thanks the same, you...

The junkie bastard sold the ship
to the Russians! Goddammit!

Now what do we do?
- We're off to Russia, numbskull.

Atomic Research Facility, Chanistanya

Luckily the missing Vulgar ship was
surprisingly quickly located.

It was the only thing on the planet
that could let me build my flagship.

What's ze problem? What?
Bloody Western teknology!

Vladimir! Ze reaktor is overheating!
Ze kooling system is on ze fritz!

Damnation! And ze kontrol system is
lokking up again. Sergey!

Sergey! Where are you, Sergey?
- What?

You used to work at a nuklear plant?
- Yeah, the Chernobyl facility. Why?

Kooling system problems,
but zat's what you do best, right?

Go check out ze reaktor chamber.
- Gee, thanks.

Chernobyl. Why's zat sound familiar?
- Chernobyl...

CHERNOBYL!

Fukoooov!

Piece of pie.

Make damn sure you never touch
ze kooling system again, Sergey!

Yeah!
- Yes, Sir, Captain.

I thought it was the climate control
for my quarters. I was cold!

You're now my prisoners! Do exactly
what I say, or it's whoopass time!

Is it a revolution?
- Yeah, you could say that.

At last! Ze Soviet Union will
be reborn!

We will be free from
ze yoke of kapitalism! Hooray!

What the hell?
Aren't they gonna put up a fight?

Perhaps you should just play along.

Okay: I'm Emperor Pirk, and we'll
build a new ship here in Tachanya -

and with it, a brave new Empire!

So that's how it got started.

The nearby village had the space and
the manpower to found the P-Fleet.

Info got the flagship project to
lead, I had better things to do.

I told 'em to be ready in 6 months,
but they wasted years of my time!

I realized I had to be a charismatic
leader, so the flab had to go.

It was hard work,
but my determination paid off.

The ElectroForce ButtDoer!
Order Now, for only 5,999 roubles!

Several months later

Took your sweet time, didn't you?

The negotiations with the Russian
President had also gone well.

My plan hinged on having
a powerful ally.

Ah, what an entrance.
A pleasure to meet you at last!

Sure... I've got our contract here.

I'll just look this over...

Everything seems to be as agreed...

I can't be bothered to read it.
I'll just sign it. Igor, a pen!

We will make this world
a better place!

The alliance with Russia made it
possible to begin war preparations.

Soon, we had lots of gear and troops
were being trained on schedule.

Come on, come on! No pain, no gain!

You'll never make real soldiers!

The moment of truth finally arrived.

With our forces ready to rumble,
it was time to play our trump card:

the flagship of the P-Fleet,
the CPP Kickstart.

Emperor on deck!

Lookin' good!

Tactical is still missing a chair!

Now, we wouldn't want your
powerful thigh muscles to atrophy.

Are we all set to go?

Yes, Sir.
Power level at 96.3 percent.

Let's go and conquer the world.
Were there any questions?

So you're the famous Emperor Pirk?

This is me, in all my glory.

Right...

Let's move!

I don't think I'm in Moscow anymore.

Welcome aboard the CPP Kickstart.

Perhaps Mr President would like to
witness the capabilities my ship.

This is an honor!

First we'll pay the Yanks a visit.

Full twist, now!

What is it this time?
Russian workmanship at its finest!

Due to impure antimaterial gas,
we can only achieve Twist Factor Two.

Dwarf, target that piece of junk.
We'll see if the weapons work!

Nyet! One moment! What are you...?
- Fire twinklers and light balls!

It wasn't built by Americans alone!
Billions of roubles went into it!

Relax, Gramps.
We'll build a newer and better one.

P- Fleet Propaganda Bureau Presents:

VICTORY TO VICTORY

The beginning of the 3rd Millennium:
poverty, famine, disease.

Leaders spoke of freedom, but sent
children to die in meaningless wars.

Mother Russia nurtured a new hero
from the ranks of the oppressed.

Side by side, Emperor Pirk and
President Ulyanov led the way.

The road was long, but working hard,
we proved that nothing is impossible.

We were ready
for humanity's final battle.

Our men sallied forth to liberate
our oppressed Northern brethren.

TO ARMS, BROTHERS!

Together, the brave men of Russia
and the technology of tomorrow -

shook the old world to the core.

Reactionaries were swept away
before the cunning of Emperor Pirk.

Their leaders, faced with certain
defeat, deserted their cities.

But Europe could no longer
offer them sanctuary.

Our victorious armies, headed for
a better world, shook our enemies -

with the marching of a million feet.

Soon, the stakes were driven to
the heart of the Old Continent.

With Europe liberated, the people of
the world turned their attention -

to that old devil,
the United States of America.

They filled the skies with death,
and were undone by it.

We taught that monster of old
the true meaning of freedom.

The time was right for
a brave new empire: -

the P-Fleet was born.

What? What is it?

Get your hands off!
I'm your President! Get off!

You... you snake, you tyrant.
We had an agreement, you traitor!

No, no! Don't shoot! Nooo!

That's how I became
Emperor of the world.

A fleet of warships was built with
the combined resorts of the Earth.

Gotta be ready if some slime-faces
from outer space come callin'!

Really, I did all I could for
mankind, but did anybody thank me?

No, they just whined about famine
and overpopulation and stuff.

What's this racket? Get off my lawn
or I'll light-ball your asses!

Down with Pirk! Down with Pirk!

So I thought of a solution:
expand to other planets.

Only our primitive ships
couldn't go very far, and -

closer planets weren't habitable.

We did try one or two,
but without too much luck.

The CPP Kalinka was a cheap bucket -

tasked to patrol the backwaters for
a few years or until it rusted out.

The captain was just the man
for the job.

Capt Sergey Fukov of the CPP Kalinka
to unidentified vessel: -

I... identify yourselves!
- Third directive of Emperor Pirk: -

All non-P-Fleet craft are
to be destroyed on sight.

How odd... I scanned the ship
right before the explosion.

It had one occupant... human.

How did a one-man craft
get this far from Earth?

I dunno. Let's call the Emperor!

Now what?
- We saw a ship in Epsilon Quadrant.

Huh?
- Dunno who it was, we destroyed it!

Are you shooting at our own guys?
See you in court martial! Oww, shit!

Who the hell hired YOU, anyway?
- You did! But it wasn't one of ours!

Go tell Info, I have soap in my eyes.
I could lose my sight, you know!

And who left the soap on the floor?

Now what?!
- We had a meeting at two o'clock.

Didn't it occur to you it might be
two PM, wiseguy?

Your expression was ambiguous, Sir.
- Riight...

It's about Captain Fukov's report.
- What about it?

Considering the possible vectors and
size of the ship they encountered, -

the ship must have originated near
the other end of the maggot hole.

Yeah, yeah, get to the point.

There must be an unknown human
civilization that built the ship.

Considering our tough situation...
- ... We can take over their planets!

I would have asked them for aid.
- Well it's not your decision.

Prepare the fleet for battle!

Capt... Captains of the P-Fleet.
You have been assembled for a reason.

Beyond this maggot hole,
there's a lot of very nice space.

We'll take it, by force, if need be!

You have your order papers.
- I don't have no papers!

Fukov! Interrupt me again, and I'll
have you scrubbing bulkheads again!

You're sitting on top of 'em.

All available ships will be used,
so there's no room for failure!

That's why I'm leading
the mission myself.

There goes our last hope
for victory...

We're leaving tomorrow morning,
at six o'clock. Any questions?

Meanwhile in a parallel universe...

Ambassador Flush,
welcome aboard the Babel 13.

Yes

We weren't expecting you for...
- Yes

May I ask?
- Yes

It's nothing.

Jonny! Sorry to interrupt.
I've got some bad news.

This is our Chief of Security,
Mikhail Garybrandy.

Look sharp, this is an important...
- What're you going on about?

Lt Kefir took a Star Flurry
for a drunken joyride last night.

What? Why didn't you stop him?
- I was so dru... dreadfully tired.

Where's Kefir now?

In the morning, I sent a patrol out.
This is all they found.

Oh my God.
- What?

Aliens have crystallized Kefir!

Jonny, this is a data crystal.
>From Kefir's flight recorder.

Crystallized Kefir...

Scream my rank!

Where did that ship come from?
- Dunno. But it sure is butt-ugly.

Could it mean...
- What?

The prophecies of the Minibar
are coming true.

A great darkness will come,
and we're all going to die.

Jonny, you're scaring me.

"The One to rule them all and in the
darkness bind them", I've read it.

Now, let's get back to reality, huh?

An itching nose must be scratched.

There you have it, Mikhail!

We have to trust the instincts
that served our ancestors so well.

Ivanovitsa, we need reinforcements.

Call in all ships in the vicinity.
- Yes, Sir.

I have a bad feeling about this.

This is where it happened.

Let's get cracking.
Fukov, you go in first.

We do not know if a starship can
survive entering that maggot hole.

That's exactly why
Fukov is going first!

Oh yeah? Well thanks a lot!

Message from the Kalinka: all clear.

Raise deflector plates and arm
weapons. We're going after 'em!

Dammit, it's like sailing thru Jello.
Info, condensate, do something!

Compensating by angling Hindenburg
stabilizers across the ion field.

The Quarton crystals should reach
the correct frequency right... now.

Yeah. Whatever.

Sir, unidentified craft detected!
- On the telly.

They disappeared. But there ain't
no planets in all this red Jello.

Apparently, the ships activated
some kind of local twist in space.

We can duplicate the energy burst,
which should open a similar twist...

Stop yammering and just do it.

Helm, take us after them!

That was the last of our
reinforcements. Now, we can...

Hopgate opening,
craft coming through.

How many?
- Forty. Type: unknown.

Blast... If I'd only known when
I accepted command of this station...

I'd have done so with all the more
zeal! We're here to keep the peace -

and even if it meant killing every
sentient being in the galaxy, we...

Captain, this is hardly the time.
- This is a question of principle.

It is my right to make speeches, and
I swear that no-one will deny me it.

Not an enemy fleet, and especially
not some embittered Commander -

who likes to chew out garbage scow
captains docking in handicap spaces!

Is that clear?

Sir, we're being hailed.
- Oh... well, put it on the telly.

This is Capt Sherrypie of the Babel 13.
Please identify yourselves.

They look just like people!

This is Emperor Pirk,
Supreme Commander of the P-Fleet.

Info, that's a space station, right?
Is the planet habitable?

Not according to the scanners, Sir.
- Shoulda known...

We just came to say hello,
since we happened to be close...

...us and the fleet.
Where are you guys from, anyway?

This station is neutral territory.
We have visitors from Minibar, -

Kentucky, Narc, and of course Earth.
- Huh? We haven't been here before?

Emperor, I assume we have arrived in
a mirror dimension of our own world.

Historical events may be different
here, but some similarities exist.

So do you know where their Earth is?

In theory, yes, assuming that
our star-charts have the same stars.

Another Earth...

We'll conquer that!

We'll secure this end of the maggot
hole - that tube can't be too hard...

Emperor! The line is still open.
- I knew that.

The day I joined the military,
my father told me:

"Son, you're none too bright, and
won't be marrying into money either."

"But you're human,
Earth to Earth and all that."

"So show some spine and come out and
stop being a shame on your old man."

Tell me, can we beat them?

Given that we have deflector plates
and they do not, it is possible...

Yes, or no?
- Yes.

"...Mother Earth needs you today!"

Bring us to light ball range and
contact the rest of the fleet.

...so I came out and gave the blood
sample. Now, Earth needs me again...

Open fire at maximum range. Everyone
pick targets and wait for my signal.

...and I know every man, woman and
child on this station feels the same.

The only way you can conquer Earth
is over our dead bodies!

Know that you shall pay dearly for
every cubic inch of our space.

We will fight you with sticks and
stones, or even with our bare hands.

The forces of darkness shall move no
further! And if it took a thousand...

Have some light balls. Fire.

...as a shining beacon in the night!

...in the face of beatniks
from another dimension...

What the hell! Close the blast doors!
Activate the defense grid!

Nice speech, Sir.

Message from the Backgammon:

Amigo class destroyers have reached
optimal firing range.

They're to attack the heavier ships.
That'll show them we mean business.

Fire!

Saucer section penetrated!
Serious damage to all decks!

What's with my deflector plates?!

Fascinating! It seems that our plates
are useless in this universe.

Skipper, the hull's taen a paikin,
an the whisky barrels teuk a hit.

Dinnae scart yer breeks, tho.
Gien some duct tape and twa oors...

You got two minutes!
Fall back!

All ships, cover me!

Emperor, I just learned that we
only have three light balls left.

I'm filing a formal complaint!
- Quit bitching and use twinklers.

The Backgammon is being overpowered
...and we can't last long, either.

Damn, this doesn't look good.

I'm afraid we only have one recourse.
- You don't mean--

Yes. We have to stall for time.

I'm giving a speech!
Raise the enemy command ship!

Wait... the station is hailing us.

A recording of Sherrypie begging for
mercy would have propaganda value.

Well receive it then
if it'll shut you up.

Babel 13 surrenders. Don't shoot,
we have over 250,000 civilians here.

What do I care about your civilians?

And why would I be interested in a
chock-full hunk o'junk of a station?

Why don't you bring your crew over
for some shore leave?

You could also repair your fleet...
- Our ships are fine.

And shore leave can wait until after
we've taken your Earth.

Also, you could personally take
Ivanovitsa's virginity! - WHAT?

Well... lemme consider this. Oh, and
throw all your guns out the airlock.

It's an obvious trap!

It'll be all right! We'll take along
a couple sledfuls of security guards.

The crew must have some time off.
And these ships could use repairs.

Figures.

OK, Sherrypie. We accept your terms.

Babel 13 is now officially part of
the P-Fleet, renamed...

...the "Praise of Pirk's Greatness. "

And no tricks, or you're toast!
Pirk out.

Dwarf, order all able security guys
to the sledbay.

You, and Info will stay on
the Kickstart, just in case.

If they try anything funny,
blast the crap outta 'em!

But wait till I've gotten off.

Emperor's blog, dunno what Moondate.

The P-Fleet wiped the floor with
these Babel losers.

We'll secure a base here and
then go on to conquer their Earth.

The crew'll get some rest, and...

...I figure I'll get some, too.

Go get 'em, Tiger!

...Demanding landing clearance.

Clearance granted in Hangar 1.
Welcome to your station!

This is too goddamn easy.
- Tell me about it.

Hey kid, is your insurance in order?
- Why?

I feel it in my bones,
we won't be coming back.

Nah, it can't be that bad.
- Oh yeah?

Last time it was supposed to be a
cakewalk, my two buddies bought it.

And that Japanese guy Kamikaze,
he's never gonna walk again!

And then there was... - Shut up!
You're hurting the crew's moray!

Is everything ready?

What the hell are you smirking at?

Sherrypie is so going to get it...
Let's move!

Where's Sherrypie?

He couldn't stand defeat. He shot
himself in the head, three times.

If you wish to see the body...
- Well I don't.

But you can show me around
the station. My station.

Where would you like to start, Sir?

How about your bedroom, you know,
Sherrypie promised me something...

Yes, Sir.

This is Emperor Pirk. One-half of
all crews can come aboard on leave.

Oh, and nobody disturb me for the
next fift... hour! Right, let's go.

VICTORY PARTY

Let's get wasted!

Am I your first?

Naah... I've had lots of women,
after all, I am the Emperor... Yeah!

Our scanners should now be correctly
calibrated to this dimension.

Interesting... I'm picking up energy
readings from beyond the hopgate.

I shall make some adjustments...

Wait a minute... what's that?
- Nothing, just a screen saver.

Sir, Sir!

Goddammit, it's a trap!
- Very perceptive of you.

The Excavator has arrived
with our reinforcements.

Evening, commander.
- Festerbester...

We were taking this new flagship for
a spin, and decided to lend a hand.

Where's Captain Giddyup?

He was feeling unwell, and had to
leave the ship under my command.

I never thought I'd say this,
but it's good to see you.

Let's kick those bastards
out of this galaxy!

This is Captain Jonny K. Sherrypie.

The rumors of my death
are greatly exaggerated.

Aww, crap.

Starting immediately, we're retaking
our station from these oppressors.

Men of Babel, to arms!
Defend that which is ours by right!

Brown sector! On the double!
To the Zicala!

All P-Fleet personnel are
under arrest under Earth martial law.

They are not to be allowed
to leave the station.

Our reinforcements
will deal with their fleet.

To all P-Fleet personnel
who surrender without resistance, -

I promise a fair court-martial
and a swift execution.

There is a ship, registration
ZEX-514, parked aft of the station -

in a handicap space.
Will the owner move it A.S.A.P.

Activate the defense grid
and open fire!

The dishonorable traitors! I told
them it's a trap! Me kill you! Kill!

Control yourself, apeman. The Emperor
and half our crews are still aboard.

At least we'll destroy their ships.
Kickstart to fleet, aim light balls!

I believe I was placed in command.

Kickstart to fleet:
ignore the previous order.

Aim light balls on attacking
enemy ships and fire on my mark.

Fleet reporting: practically all
light balls expended.

In that case, approach to
twinkler range at full shove power.

Our losses should not exceed
68.4 per cent.

I guess it's a passable day to die.

Blast it, I'll handle this!

Lt Fubar! Don't go!
- It is my destiny.

Hey, it's war.
People get killed, you know.

Emperor Pirk! Order your men
to lay down their arms.

I guarantee a fair court-martial
to all those who surrender.

The P-Fleet will never surrender!

And, I lost my communicator.

Ivanovitsa, inform the enemy fleet
that we've captured their Emperor.

Cannot comply, Sir. That last hit
disabled our communications systems.

Darn.

So. I'm no use to you anymore.
How about I'll just scoot off?

Weapons range attained!
- Fire at will.

When I joined the military, I swore
to protect Earth against any enemy.

I have faced starving Martian
insurgents and the fleets of Minibar.

All this I have done to protect
the unified Earth, unified mankind...

Enough with the speeches! Bastard!

Very well, if you can't wait to die.

Emperor Pirk, I sentence you to death
for your crimes against humanity.

You will be executed immediately,
by five plasma pellets to the head.

Don't take it like that!
Go ahead with your speech!

Ready... aim...

Zounds! Why weren't those
ceiling struts fastened properly?

Zucker?
You shall be avenged!

All worked up over some security guy
who died...

Run, boys! I'll cover you!

Let's roast them!

My sled...

Going somewhere, Emperor?

Blast these struts!

This station is a piece of crap!
No turbolift, nothing!

You can use the exercise!

Why exercise when you can get
one of these delivered to your home?

Stop hiding, you!
Now what's with this thing?

Oh Jefferson! The batteries are out!

Let's settle this like men -
one on one.

Stop whining, you wuss! Get up!

This is for Zucker!

So, Emperor. The game's over.

Understand this, Pirk. War is war.

You and me, as soldiers,
know this better than anyone.

But when you murdered my friend
in cold blood, this became personal.

I'll see to it that you die slowly,
and have time to regret everything.

Didn't anyone ever tell you
your bootlaces are too long?

My contact lenses!
- Found 'em!

Security guards to the hangar!
- Coward!

Enemy target destroyed.
Moving on to next...

Imperial Distress Call

Pirk to Kickstart! Pirk to...

Sir, we do hear you.

Oh good. I'm in this sled. Come and
get me ASAP. Them cowards set me up!

You don't say, Sir.
- They were no match for my cunning.

Get over here and rescue me!

Set a course for the Emperor's sled.
- I'll just destroy this destroyer.

Commander, it's an Imperial
Distress Call. We're moving out.

I have him in my sights. One second!

The P-Fleet is not the Planet of the
Apes. We obey a superior officer.

I've had it with you, binary brains!

Whatever you may think, the VCR
remote stop button doesn't harm me.

Now, perhaps we can go
and help out the Emperor.

Hayday to fleet.
Are your crews back from R&R yet?

Curses! Outflank the enemy. I want
those heavy destroyers taken out now!

Oh Thursday!

Yeehaw!
- All clear, Sir!

What kept you guys?
They almost got me!

We came as soon as we could, limited
by the performance of Cmdr Dwarf.

Wars aren't won by avoiding battles.

Enough with your sorry
Plingon proverbs. Status report!

We have lost 23 ships,
and have 14 operational ships left.

Enemy reinforcements are putting up
a stiff fight.

Additionally, our twinkle beams
are powerless against their flagship.

What the hell... are we armed with
twinklers or flashlights?

Light balls seem to work better -
but the Kickstart only has nine left.

I know: let's fire 'em all at once.

And Dwarf, this is an important shot
so I'm taking over.

Sir, I really wouldn't recommend it.

Maybe the range is too much for you,
but for me it's a piece of pie.

Computer,
manual override of weapon systems.

This is child's play.

Goddammit.

Dork.

I had it in my sights, didn't I?!

Sir, have you ever heard of
leading the target?

Lead? Can't these damn computers
calculate it for me?

When the target's in the crosshairs,
the shots should hit!

Child's play, indeed!

You couldn't have hit it yourself.
You rotten... Take a shower, stinker!

Plingon warriors do not take showers!

Sir, a hit from that attack
would have caused serious damage.

The enemy command ship
may be a grave threat.

The best defense is a good offense.
Do something about them!

...Target and lock on the Kickstart...
Ready the main gun...

Heavy structural damage to starboard!
- Shut up and keep firing!

Their main gun is locking on us.
- Well take evasionic action then.

Evasionic action Pirk-7.

Jefferson's jellies! Retreat, fast!

Power will be back in 40 seconds.

I'd like to know what whoever
designed this weapon was thinking.

I estimate that the enemy flagship
can fire again in 17.3 seconds.

Hey, let's hide behind the station.
They won't dare shoot at us there.

Finally. And where is our friend
the Kickstart?

Unknown, Sir. The blackout caused
the targeting computer to reboot, -

so we lost lock-on. But I'll track
them down again in no time.

Captain's blog: The Kalinka suffered
heavy damage to halludeck circuits, -

and we retreated for repairs. Most
of the crew were on the halludeck -

having a vodka party,
and now the door seems to be stuck.

Lt. Makarov, how are the repairs?
- It'll be open in 10 minutes, Sir.

No hurry. Looks like the battle
will go on for some time.

This is cold.

Ouch! Holy shit. Hey, guys.

According to our scanners,
the Kalinka still has 20 light balls.

That Russkie coward
been holding back again?

If we ask Capt Fukov to deliver his
light balls to us, we can close in...

And blast them to pieces! Only
I might do the targeting this time.

Like hell you will! This is my show.

Esteemed Emperor, it seems you tore
off your joy stick on that last try.

OK. You shoot, but you'd better hit.
Open a channel to Fukov!

Hi there.

What've you done? Not one hit,
but your ship is in pieces.

We had some technical problems.

Get the Kalinka over here, load all
your light balls on a sled, and...

...bring them to the Kickstart.
- Come again? You're breaking up.

Send the whole case. And pack them
well or they'll warm up in transit.

Hokay...

The enemy is pressing on our fleet.
Should we withdraw to regroup?

No.

Have you located the Kickstart yet?

Yes, Sir. It's sitting next to
the Babel-13. But our ships...

...are able to look after themselves.
We shall destroy the Kickstart.

I sense these spineless worms only
fight for fear of their Emperor.

The loss of their flagship will crush
their spirit and secure our victory.

The light ball loader is calling.

Sir, the shipment from the Kalinka
just arrived from the sled bay.

High time, too.
- What am I supposed to do with it?

What do you think, pea brain?
Stuff 'em in the light ball tubes!

"This is the light ball loader,
what do I do with light balls?"

"Hide 'em under my bed?"

That's the last time I ever
recruit my crew from Russia.

Ready to execute the plan, Sir.

Get us into a firing position.

Sir, the Kickstart left the side of
the Babel 13 and is heading at us.

This is Emperor Pirk! Any last words
before we blast you to bits?

Ah, the Emperor. We meet at last.

I regret to say your pitiful attempt
only makes me feel sorry for you.

We'll see who's sorry
after 20 light balls!

Prepare the twist drive.

They are making this too easy... but
never look a gift horse in the mouth.

Captain, if you would, please.
- ... Prepare the main gun...

Twist drive... Now!

Pirk's cunning strikes again.

Lightballs locked onto their bridge.
- Say Onara, suckers. Fire!

The Corps is Momma and Granny.

Direct hits on bridge!

...With light balls loaded with
12-oz. beer bottles.

Fukooooov!
- What?

What... was... your big idea...
with these light balls?

Light balls? What light balls?

I told you to send over your light
balls you braindead Commie mutant!

No, you asked for "light beer".

Enemy ship returning fire.
- Get outta the way!

Too late.

Massive damage taken!
- One twist drive destroyed!

Lost connections for twinkle banks
3 thru 11!

Computer helpdesk went bankrupt!
- Halludeck going offline!

Coffee-o-Matic damaged beyond repair!

Ne'er mind that, she's gaun tae blow!

The twist core just breuk
an thare's antimaterial gas awgates.

Well fix it! Return fire!
- Weapon systems are inoperable.

Furthermore, our twist core
will split in 3.6 minutes.

At least we'll take the bastard
with us! Set collision course!

How pathetic. Our next shot
will take them out. Captain!

...Ready the main gun...

Sir, somehow the beer seems to have
corroded all control circuits.

The main gun is out of action.

Fine then. We'll do it the hard way.
Secondary guns, fire!

Gimme all you got! You can't hurt me!

You are a good sport, but
as you can see, you are finished.

Well I have the last laugh. And it's
on you and your silly leather gloves.

Arrogant insect. Full speed ahead!
We have the mass advantage!

Okay, Fukov. Disengage the sucking
beam, and break to the right.

Sure, Sir!

Emperor, there's a slight problem...
- You stupid moron!

26 seconds to impact.
- Fukooov!

You're gonna get us all killed!
Waitaminit! What's this?

It's... it's the spare stick!
- Spare stick?

2.1 seconds to impact!

See you in Reykjavik!

Oh, crap.

The situation looks bad, Sir.

The fleet is decimated and the enemy
is setting up to attack the station.

Erm, I take it that the defense grid
has been activated?

It would be, if there was anything
left of it.

Hi guys, how's it hangin'?

Are you drunk?
- No.

I'm absolutely wasted!
- So you fell off the wagon again.

They don't call me Garybrandy
for nothin'.

But hey, who cares.
We'll soon all be dead, anyway.

There must be something we can do.

Sure.
We can take them bastards with us.

The fusion reactor's
warming up nicely.

What?

I disconnected the cooling system.

The fireworks should start in about
15 minutes.

This is mutiny!
Reconnect the system immediately!

Wait! Mike may be right.
What other options do we have?

We will fight till the last!
- We have nothing left to fight with!

No! We have men, PPB's, our fists!
When they come to take the station..

My guess is that after the last time,
Pirk won't try to TAKE the station.

So all we gotta do is keep 'em close
for a little while longer.

Jonny, you need to relax a bit.
Wanna drink?

Effin' traitors. You are SO toast.

Babel 13 surrenders unconditionally.
- Dwarf, warm up the twinkle banks.

But don't you think it'd be better
to shoot from a closer range?

Beams traveling across all that
space would waste a lot of energy.

Good idea! Tell the fleet to move
to point blank range and lock on.

It seems the station's power plant
is approaching critical mass.

What? They're trying to pull
a fast one again!

Who would've thought.

Gimme full twist!

It's not working!

Sir, we're losing antimaterial gas,
and can only use half shove power.

It'll have to do.
All power to shove engines!

Oh, and inform the rest of the fleet.
- Sure, Sir.

Hello, Carlo's Sex Line.

We need to hurry, things are so hot.
- Sounds exciting, what do I do?

The Emperor says to pull out
before it pops!

Fukov, what's taking so long?
Did you inform the fleet or what?

Yeah, Captain Carlo answered.
- Who's Carlo?

Critical mass in 38 seconds.
- Into the jello hole, and fast!

Our fearless leader is running away.

Message to the fleet:
All ships, follow the Emperor.

The enemy fleet is withdrawing!

We made it! Garybrandy,
shut down the reactor immediately!

I'm almost there!

EMERGENCY REACTOR SHUTDOWN

Oh peanuts!

Where the hell is the rest of my
fleet? Fukov, didn't you reach them?

Hurry up!

Alright. Great job.
- You can't win every time, Sir.

And who asked you?
Info, where the hell are we, anyway?

One moment. I'm recalibrating
our scanners for our dimension.

What the hell?

This end of the maggot hole
must have shifted in time-space.

Avoid that planet!

Insufficient energy for shove power.

Beam us onto the planet!

There's only enough energy
to transfer three people.

Info, Dwarf, get ready to beam down!

Not to worry! It'll be all right.

OK, Info. How about letting us know
where the hell we are?

Hawaii, on Earth.

So where are all the surfers and
hula hula dancers, smart guy?

Some 11,000 years in the future.
- What?

I assume the maggot hole put us
on Earth, during the Ice Age.

The Ice Age? Now what're we gonna do?

How about shooting ourselves
before the twinklers freeze?

In a low-power mode, I believe I can
make it until the 21st century, -

and prevent the fateful invasion
campaign from taking place.

So that none of this ever happened?
Then I'll be saved!

Hm. In a way. Yes.

English Translation by Antti Hukkanen