ENSIGN CAMEO: Sir! I'm picking up several signatures on my gamma pulse spectrum radar!
GENERAL CONSENSUS: Is it an attack? Did the Radical Space Sect find us?
ENSIGN CAMEO: No, sir, these objects are too small ... too listless and apathetic to be ships! It's like they have no particular trajectory ... they're completely unpredictable.
GENERAL CONSENSUS: Dr. Diana Fhire! What do you make of this?
DR. FHIRE: Hmm, I've never seen anything like this, possibly because I'm meant to be this film's gratuitous eye candy and thus possess highly suspect academic qualifications like Denise Richards did in that one Bond movie. Anyway, my tachyon scanner indicates that we are not dealing with biological matter. In fact, the substance seems ... no, that can't be!
GENERAL CONSENSUS: What? What are we dealing with here?
DR. FHIRE: Rocks. Big rocks. In space.
GENERAL CONSENSUS: My god. Space rocks ... but how?
DR. FHIRE: It's only a theory, but I believe coming into contact with these ... these ... "asteroids" could kill us severely.
GENERAL CONSENSUS: How ... how many of them pose a threat?
[CLOSE UP ON DR. FHIRE]
DR. FHIRE: All of them, general.
[CLOSER UP ON DR. FHIRE]
DR. FHIRE. All. Of. Them.
[INTERIOR] [ALARMS SOUND]
GENERAL CONSENSUS: Ensign! Get me gruff-but-likable washout pilot Jack Plot. He's the only one that can fly the experimental Triangulon Mark V --
DR. FHIRE: The Triangulon?! Are you crazy? That thing's still a prototype! It's not tested for --
GENERAL CONSENSUS: We don't have a choice, Diana. I'm not getting my ass kicked by these roids!
Written by Matthew Lopez
Produced by Lorenzo di Bonaventura