Star Trek: Section 31

She's back! She's home!

Philippa came home!

Two years...

and everything looks exactly as I remember.

I never thought I would see this place again.

There were 18 of us this time.

Culled from every corner of the Empire

and brought to Terra for the contest.

We were told that only one of us would survive the years to come.

One child.

The purest expression of the Terran identity.

They pitted us against each other.

And month by month, our numbers dwindled.

Did... Did you win?

Is it over?

Two of us still live.

San and me.

Me and San.

We are two.

- But one forever. - Forever.

The word "friend" was forbidden during the contest,

but we whispered it to each other when no one could hear.

San and I combined our skills

against the proctor and the other contestants.

But only one of you can be Emperor.

One task remains.

The first to complete it rules the Empire,

and the other spends the rest of their life in servitude

to the new Emperor.

What do you have to do?

- I'm sorry. - What did you do?

No ties to the old life are permitted.

An emperor can only be loyal to duty.

Thus does the Empire remain strong.

Thus does it grow.

Mom. Philippa.

You succeeded where your competitor could not.

Bring him here.

San did not have the strength to pass the final test.

Even now, his village burns as a testament to his cowardice.

I love you.

You have won the contest.

Claim your victory.

San, step forward.

You live now only to serve at her heel.

Kneel before the one who owns your life.

We are two.

But one.

Not anymore.

All hail Philippa Georgiou!

All hail, the Emperor!

Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail!

This is Control with a priority message for Alpha Team Leader.

Your subject is Emperor Philippa Georgiou,

former ruler of the Terran Empire.

It's in a parallel universe with the most criminal population

in recorded history.

Even there, Georgiou had the market cornered on atrocities.

In 2257,

she was brought to our universe and joined Section 31.

But after a few years, we lost contact.

Recently Georgiou was spotted using an alias

in the border territory outside Federation Space,

where we're tracking a new threat on the black market.

This is where your team comes in.

Federation Treaty forbids us from crossing over that border,

which means Starfleet cannot get its hands dirty.

You and your 31 team will go in, make contact with Georgiou

to help identify and neutralize the threat.

But make no mistake.

This dog bites, so watch your backs.

You have 24 hours to complete the mission.

Get to work.

Madame du Franc.

Small incident in the Honeymoon Suite.

I'm afraid the bride molted just as things were coming to a climax.

Virgil, get to the point.

I've sent a biohazard team and your condolences.

Also, there's a customer hoping for a word with you.

He seems entirely sober but quite intoxicating.

Madame Véronique du Franc will see you.

Alok Sahar, Madame Véronique du Franc.

Madame du Franc normally does business by appointment.

I'd like to make an appointment.

Oh, the gentlemen would like to make an appointment.

Now.

Now, Madame.

Impossible.

Mmm.

Mmm.

Au revoir , Virgil.

Mm-hmm. Mmm.

Ah.

That is illegal and that makes money.

This is a reputable establishment.

Not what I heard.

- Why don't we discuss it in your office? - Hmm.

Why would I take you to my office, Alok Sahar?

Because it's a hands-on experience.

Dulcet Thistle.

Dulcet Thistle's extinct.

I've got a dozen keys of this stuff.

Have you partaken?

This would be one of my few first times.

Packs a punch. A happy punch.

Mmm.

Bottoms up.

- To money. - To you.

Mmm.

Now, let's cut the shit!

What is Section 31 doing in my space station?

Hmm? You think I don't know an agent when I see one?

You're heading up a team of six operatives,

and they're all over the bar.

There's the Chameloid.

A green-blooded shape-shifter trying to muster sexy time with a Deltan.

A walking honey trap 31's obviously using as a distraction.

Except Chameloids are the only species in the galaxy

immune to Deltan's sexy time charm.

Then there's the guy, with all the high-end mech,

standing at the back looking like he has thoughts.

Mech-life, it ain't just about the brute force.

I'm gonna say heavy on artillery, low on IQ.

I'm so sorry.

And we can't forget the Vulcan laughing way too hard

at the stage banter.

And since Vulcans never laugh, he's either an idiot too,

or lost his mind during pon farr and went insane.

Oh, come on. That was funny.

And the very serious human you stuck him with?

Reel it in anytime.

She's got a stick so far up her backside,

it's coming out her mouth.

Just reel it in.

- That would be Lieutenant Garrett. - Mmm.

Starfleet, where fun goes to die.

It took you long enough to find me.

We knew that having you here on the Baraam

would be valuable to us one day.

Well, I'm not feeling motivated to be valuable to anyone but myself.

So, is this where we start negotiating?

Hmm. That depends.

How long have you known about me?

Ever since you took over from the previous owner,

who we still haven't found.

- Well, all of. - That wasn't me.

Emperor Georgiou.

I'm authorized to arrest you...

and wipe your mind clean.

But then again,

there's a part of me that wants you to live with your memories,

the genocidal ones.

Being authorized to arrest me

isn't the same as being able to arrest me.

You really want Section 31, want me, dogging you until the end of time?

Boring.

The past always catches up with you.

And as much as both of us might hate it, I'm doing you a favor.

One last mission.

Listen.

Do you believe in fate?

Because I do.

You can't hide from it.

You're nothing here, Georgiou.

I'm giving you a chance to get back in.

In on the action on a galactic scale.

Stop running from it.

Be who you are...

or stay and tend bar for eternity.

Let's get on with it.

Philippa Georgiou, meet my team.

This is Melle.

Zeph.

You look like a Swiss Army knife.

No. Hold on.

I don't know what that means, but I'm not gonna stand here and get insulted.

I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about your suit.

Um, you're new, so I'm gonna just explain this one time.

But when you are talking about the suit,

you're talking about Zeph.

Zeph suffers from what we call, "Mecha dysmorphia."

And I may not know what that is,

but I'm not gonna take that from you, Quas,

and personally, I'm offended.

- I think... - Well, it's accurate.

It's not a diagnosis. You're not a doctor.

Zeph. Zeph. Zeph!

- He knows. He knows. He knows. - Okay, fine.

He gets it. He gets it.

Okay. What about that Vulcan?

Nobody told her?

Well, this? The thing you're talking to?

The Vulcan's just a machine. I'm inside. Driving.

I control the body from a backup vehicle.

You know, something I use to get into tight spots.

Hi, there.

I'm Fuzz.

Fuzz is a Nanokin. Real fun-loving guy.

Hello.

Except for when he's not.