The Last Scout

In the year 2065,

war destroyed our world.

In our desperation,

we searched the stars

for a new home.

And just when we thought

we'd found one,

we realized we were not alone.

We have

the most important mission:

we must not fail.

We are the last.

And why, I hear you ask.

Life.

Survival is built into the very

genome of every living thing.

To endure, to evolve,

at any cost.

For billions of years,

the planet Earth was home

to many beautiful

and wonderful creatures,

all living in harmony

with their environment.

It includes of course

the human race,

the so called

"masters of their fate."

The dominant species,

who over millions of years

of evolution

reshaped their environment

for their every need.

That was until seven years ago,

the year 2065,

because unfortunately,

that was the year

our beautiful planet

was destroyed in a nuclear war

that lasted

just sixty-seven minutes.

The bombs dropped so fast

that no one had time

to say goodbye,

to pray,

or to call their loved ones.

The world's population

barely knew a war had started,

but in the blink of an eye,

our home was gone.

The few humans that survived

the post-apocalyptic world

fled in scout ships

to all the know corners

of the galaxy,

looking for a new planet

to call home.

I am on

one of those scout ships.

For all I know,

we could be the last.

When we received the signal

from the Pegasus,

we altered our course

and headed for what

would become our new home.

The Pegasus' sacrifice meant

that humanity could start afresh

and build a future.

Knowing...

that we are not the last.

All right,

I'm removing the last screw now.

Make sure you keep a hold of it.

Relax man,

these are steady hands.

I just don't want

to lose any if we can help it.

Yeah, there's already

enough screws loose around here.

Michael,

are you disparaging the sanity

of certain crew members

on board,

or are you making

libelous insinuations

about the stability of my ship?

Your ship? F*** you man!

This ship, sweetheart, is mine!

Woah woah woah, fly boy!

Anybody can point

this crate in a direction

and press

the button marked "go",

but it takes a genius,

and let's not forget, Mike,

I'm a genius,

moving

and B:
from falling apart.

All right?

That makes her mine.

Sorry to interrupt you

ladies, but this "crate"

as you so elegantly call it,

Pete, is mine.

Captain.

Whose ship is it?

Jon's ship.

Good girls. Now,

how much longer on this work?

I'm just installing

the new valve now.

Copy that.

Quick as you can, gentlemen.

I want engines started

inside of an hour.

There's a dust cloud

headed this way

that'll require more

than a valve being fixed

if it hits us.

Understood sir.

Moving double quick.

Where were we?

Let me just make sure

he's not still listening.

Captain?

Ok yes, where were we?

This ship, Mike, is mine

because I'm the one that

keeps it from falling apart

every time somebody called Mike

takes us too close to a star

or through an asteroid belt

or into a black hole

or whatever it is

you joyriders do

when you're fumbling

at those controls.

Woah, woah,

she may not be falling apart

but you sure ain't the one

out here fixing her right now.

Well, delegation of duties

is part of my job you see.

There's no point

in risking me going outside

to fix a plasma valve

when I can talk you

through it, Mike.

This is a job

a seven year old could do.

Oh well next time

we'll just send Lila.

The suits are too big for her.

Besides which,

we're supposed to only send

expendable members

of crew outside.

Oh f*** you

and your expendability, man.

Without me, we don't fly.

That's so weird, because I think

because I think

the Captain and the co-pilot

are taking the next two

piloting shifts-is that right?

Hey, no one fies like I do.

All right,

I make it an art form.

Anyway Mr. Important,

I'm ready to put

this new valve in

and get the f*** back inside

so I can kick your ass.

Well now,

there's incentive for me.

Ok, you need to see that

the corners are all lined up.

Make sure the grooves match too,

that way you will know

that you don't have it

in back to front.

Have you got

the manual in front of you?

I thought you were a genius!

Screw the screws

back in and reseal the panel

and then you're done, all right.

And then I can run

a pressure test on it.

Woah woah woah, wait

until I'm clear of this section

before you run

any pressure test.

Don't worry, relax,

there's nothing going

to blow you off

and push you deep into space,

as long as you've done

a proper job.

Warning.

Pressure must be released

in the helium tanks.

- Sh*t.

- Mike?

I just dropped

one of the screws.

I can go after it.

Use one of the spares.

You got many of these left?

After seven years?

Mate, don't ask.

Ok. All right, sorry again man.

Hey, what's for dinner tonight?

Mate, it's your favourite.

Oh yeah? Steak, potato

salad and a side of onion rings?

It's my lucky night.

You bet. Edward's

pulling out all the stops.

We're all grateful

for last night's feast, you see.

Hatch is sealed.

Heading back to airlock.

- Mike to the bridge.

- Go ahead.

Jane, I've finished

doing Pete's job for him.

I'm coming back in.

Copy that.

Course is already plotted.

Mike is now back on board.

And the airlock is sealed.

Firing it up. Good job, boys.

Whereas the Pegasus flies

through space,

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