intent
on annihilating us
as they are each other.
Jothee, can you hear me?
Pretty tight over here.
I can't make it to you.
Cut loose. Get clear.
You understand me?
Copy. Everybody safe?
It's a little crazy around
here for roll call now.
Just get as far away as you can.
We'll catch up.
Hey, come here.
Kill the frellings.
And kill them others too.
If you can
kill them slowly, do it.
Back off.
Keep away!
D'Argo's dead. Do you think
I frelling care what I do to you?
Yes.
D'Argo is dead?
Yes, Pilot. Saving us.
Is there another way?
I don't see one.
Do you?
It's worse than you think.
Is it worse than D'Argo
being blown to pieces?
Is it worse
than our son dying?
Is it worse
than living with this?
Come here.
Closer.
You wanna see it?
The thing you've been chasing my
ass all over the universe for?
Torturing me, my wife,
my friends for?
Formidable weapon.
You wanna see it?
Yes.
- Beg.
- I beg you.
That's not good enough.
Say please.
Please.
- Pretty please.
- With cherry on top.
- With cherry on top.
Happy birthday.
Now get outta my sight.
Behold, the wormhole weapon.
That?
Yeah.
Ain't it beautiful?
Is this some kind
of joke?
Cosmic.
Keep watching.
Blink and
you'll miss it.
There.
Isn't that sweet?
Baby's gonna grow.
Pilot, are my comms open?
It's time for a birth announcement.
Comms are open, Commander.
Attention, ladies and gentlemen,
and all ships at sea.
If you look out your
front window,
you will see,
by special request,
your very own
wormhole weapon.
Crichton, what's happening?
The end of all this crap.
Hey, Emperor Sleestak,
you big upright iguana.
What does it look like
from the Death Star?
Sir, do you wish
to respond?
Yes. Increase fire power.
Increased rate of fire.
And begin reverse thrust.
Pull us out of here.
Reverse thrust,
one quarter.
Can I get a huzzah from
the grand Peacekeeper bitch?
Wormhole at 12:00, Lucy.
Ignore that hail.
Continue all guns
against the Decimator.
That object is beginning to exert
a gravitational pull on us.
Steady retreat
while continuing to fire.
Unbelievable.
Nobody has anything to say.
How big is that thing
gonna get?
Big.
Okay, boys and girls,
here are the rules.
Find a penny, pick it up.
Double it.
You've got two pennies.
Double it again. Four.
Double it 27 times,
and you've got a million dollars
and the IRS all over
your ass.
Round and round
and round it goes.
Where it stops, nobody knows.
But it all adds up... quick.
What do you mean
we cannot reverse thrust?
Because it's just
not working.
We're trapped here, ma'am.
Pilot, how you doin'?
Acceptable, Commander.
Though Moya and I
are beginning to question
whether it makes any difference.
We have tried to retreat
from the wormhole,
but are unable to escape.
I know.
Our destinies are no longer
in our own hands.
Give me my world.
Cease fire!
Ma'am, your orders?
Hold all salvos.
Silence the guns.
What have you done,
Crichton?
What did you ask me to do,
Sparky?
"Crichton, please make the wormhole so we
can all have peace.
"Crichton, you gotta make the wormhole.
We all want peace!
"Crichton, make the damn wormhole.
We gotta have peace!"
How many times
did you say that, Sparky?
Wormhole. Peace.
Peace. Wormhole.
How many times, mister, I beg you,
"Please with a cherry on top"?
I'm sorry.
I tried to explain it.
I tried to tell them all.
You do what
you have to do.
Kiss me.
Here's how it lays out.
Are you listening, Staleek?
I am listening.
Yes.
Wormhole weapons
do not make peace.
Wormhole weapons
don't even make war.
They make total destruction.
Annihilation.
Armageddon.
People make peace.
Can you stop it?
I don't know.
Maybe.
It eats the whole galaxy.
Monumental black hole.
Giant, swirling headstone
marking the spot
where we all used
to live and play
and slaughter the innocent.
This is insane.
God!
Four years on
and you'