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Int. Day. Deserted barracks. The presenters, now rumpled and a bit bleary-looking, sit around a table eating what appear to be canned rations.
Clarkson: I've been thinking, guys. I don't think we can just stay here and wait for the IPO to arrive.
Hammond: Why, do you think if we stay in this completely obvious hiding place, those Earthforce lads we drove past last night will eventually think to come and look here and we'll all be killed?
Clarkson: Something like that, yes.
May: You might have a point there. We're not going to get far on foot, though, and taking those same cars back out on the road would be worse than just staying put.
Clarkson: Do we know what kind of base this was?
Ext. Day. TCDF base. The presenters emerge from the barracks and make their way toward a large outbuilding.
Clarkson (VO): We didn't. Since we're all fairly familiar with airfields, though, we figured the giant metal building behind the barracks complex was probably a hangar, and if we could find an aircraft of any kind, Captain Slow could fly us to safety.
HAMMOND pushes the hangar door open a short distance and puts his head inside.
Clarkson: What do you see? Is it an aircraft hangar?
HAMMOND doesn't reply for a few seconds; then he pulls his head and shoulders back out of the doorway and turns to his colleagues with a gleeful grin.
Hammond: No. It's better.
CLARKSON and MAY look at each other in puzzlement. WIPE TO
Int. Day. CLARKSON is in some sort of cockpit, surrounded by softly glowing orange instruments, dials, and controls; there are joysticks on the arms of the large seat he's strapped into. He appears to be wearing a personal flotation vest and an open-face motorcycle helmet that's attached to the headrest of the seat by cables. Through the windows around him can be seen a view of the TCDF base and surrounding forest, apparently from quite high up.
Clarkson (grinning maniacally): Ha ha ha ha haaaa. This is brilliant. James, what have you got?
Int. Day. Another cockpit. MAY is similarly attired and in a similar setting, but the dial faces and whatnot surrounding him are mostly green, not orange.
Hammond (VO): To keep our spirits up, we decided to treat the occasion like one of our traveling car tests. We didn't realize at the time that it would've been more appropriate to pretend it was a cheap car challenge.
May (slightly sarcastically): Well, uh... this appears to be a Kong Interstellar BL-6b-KNT Black Knight.
Ext. Day. TCDF base outskirts. Yep, it sure does; it's a Black Knight with TCDF Reserve markings. Some of its smaller armor plates appear to be missing.
May (on radio): It's a heavy BattleMech with many advanced technology features, such as an Endo Steel chassis, high-efficiency heat sinks, and pulsed energy weapons.
Int. Day. Black Knight cockpit.
May: It has a zero-to-sixty time of... uh... never, and a top speed of forty miles per hour.
Clarkson (on radio): Does it have jump jets?
May: Of course it doesn't have jump jets, you *****. It weighs seventy-five tons.
Int. day. Cockpit of CLARKSON'S 'Mech.
Clarkson: Mine has jump jets, and it weighs more than that.
May (on radio, horrified): Oh my God, it isn't.
Ext. Day. TCDF base outskirts. A MUCH LARGER 'MECH emerges from the hangar to stand next to the Black Knight.
May (on radio): Clarkson, you pillock, we're trying to escape, not conquer the planet.
Clarkson (on radio): That is the voice of jealousy. Feast your eyes on my magnificence. What I have here, as I'm sure you know, is a Stonewell Bellcom MAD-5A Marauder II - a hundred tons of pure fighting power, based on a proven Zentraedi design.
Hammond (on radio): Which explains how you can fit in the cockpit at all.
Int. Day. Black Knight cockpit. MAY stifles a guffaw at HAMMOND'S remark.
Clarkson (on radio): Be quiet. I've got everything anyone would ever need here. Two extended-range particle cannons; two medium lasers, the workhorse of the modern battlefield; and a Class 10 automatic cannon with cluster round fire selection. And a jumping range of nearly 100 yards!
May: And a reactor plant that's as fragile as it is slow. Do you know who SB's main subcontractor was on that design? General Motors. What you have there is an American BattleMech.
Clarkson (on radio, loftily): James, it really pains me that you continue to cling to these petty nationalistic rivalries centuries after they ceased to have any relevance in everyday life.
(MAY makes inarticulate choking noises of disbelief.)
Hammond (on radio): If you two are quite finished, I'm powered up and ready to go.
Int. Day. Marauder II cockpit.
Clarkson: Come on, then, let's see what you found. (Blinks in disbelief, then bursts out laughing.)
Hammond (on radio, indignantly): What! What are you laughing at?
Ext. Day. TCDF base. A QUITE SMALL 'MECH emerges from the hangar.
Int. Day. Third 'Mech's cockpit. This is a much simpler and more cramped cockpit; even Hammond looks uncomfortably crowded in it. The dial faces are white.
Hammond: This is the fastest Destroid in the galaxy. While you two are lurching along in the undergrowth, I'll be on my way to safety. I could cover the hundred miles to the spaceport in 75 minutes.
May (on radio): On perfectly flat terrain, maybe.
Int. Day. Marauder II cockpit.
Clarkson: Richard, would I be right in saying that that's a Locust II?
Ext. Day. TCDF base.
Hammond (on radio): Ah! Not quite! This is a Locust IIC. It's a special model produced by a small company called Olivetti Weaponry. They're sort of the AMG to Bergen Industries' Mercedes-Benz.
May (VO): Given the madness of the thing, I was thinking that "the Abarth to their Fiat" would be more accurate, but we were already having a big enough row that I didn't feel the need to say it out loud.
Hammond (on radio): This twenty-five-ton high-performance machine has the most advanced sensors of any light Destroid, a top speed in excess of 80 miles per hour, and nine laser weapons.
Clarkson (on radio): Nine tiny laser weapons.
Hammond (on radio): All right, eight of them are fairly small, but they're all extended-range, and may I remind you that you yourself called the medium laser the workhorse of the modern battlefield? Besides, we're not out here to get into a fight. We're trying to get away, and this is the ultimate getaway vehicle.
Int. Day. Black Knight cockpit.
May: You've both done this wrong.
Clarkson (on radio): What?
Hammond (on radio): Eh?
May: Richard, your Locust is too fast and unstable, it's got no arms, you're going to have a lot of trouble with the terrain between here and the spaceport. Jeremy, your 'Mech is too slow and clumsy, and it has so much firepower you're just going to be looking for a fight. As usual, I'm the only one who's done this properly. My Black Knight has the perfect balance of ground speed, stability, and defensive capabilities if we get into a jam.
Ext. Day. The countryside. The three 'Mechs make their way through a medium-density forest. CLARKSON'S Marauder II is having a hard time of it with the terrain and the obstacles, and is making a tremendous amount of noise, especially when CLARKSON gets fed up with some obstacle (large rock, tree, etc.) and blasts it out of his way. HAMMOND'S Locust IIC makes better time, but he has to keep doubling back and it's clear he's getting frustrated. The presenters can be heard bickering over the comms in the background.
Hammond (VO): James had a point, not that I was in any mood to acknowledge it at the time. To be honest, I thought he was exaggerating - not how much trouble we'd be in if we got into any at all, that part was obvious, but how likely it was that we'd find some in the first place. Unfortunately, Jeremy was on the same page.
Int. Day. Marauder II cockpit.
Clarkson: I think you're exaggerating the likelihood that there'll be a problem, James. If I'm honest. All we have to do is cover a hundred miles of undeveloped terrain and cross one measly suburb to get to the IPO line. How hard can it be?
Hammond (on radio): WHY DO YOU ALWAYS FEEL THE NEED TO SAY THAT?!
Ext. Day. Built-up area. The three 'Mechs have emerged from the forest (which is still visible in the background) and into an area of low buildings, mainly industrial and/or commercial. The area is deserted; at one point the camera pans slowly past an Earthforce poster announcing a mandatory evacuation. CLARKSON'S Marauder II walks up to a two-story-tall concrete retaining wall, at the top of which is a highway with a sign indicating that the distance to Tau City Spaceport is nine miles.
Clarkson (on radio): Mm. Ah. Guys? I have a confession to make.
Hammond (on radio): What's that, Jeremy?
Clarkson (on radio): My jump jets don't work.
Hammond (on radio): Oh, marvelous.
Clarkson (on radio): I think that base was a repair station.
Int. Day. Black Knight cockpit.
May: That... that makes sense, actually, because it explains quite neatly why I have no long-range sensors and three of my heat sinks are offline.
Int. Day. Locust IIC cockpit. A warning buzzer sounds; HAMMOND looks toward the accompanying red flashing light.
Hammond: Uh-oh. What was - ... "laser warning". That can't be good.
Ext. Day. Light industrial area. A lance of four Earthforce Destroids - a Guillotine, two Shadow Hawks and an Assassin - emerge from between buildings to the northeast.
Int. Day. Marauder II cockpit.
Earthforce lieutenant (on radio): Attention TCDF Destroid units. You are in violation of General Security Order One. Power down and dismount immediately or we will open fire.
Clarkson (frantically pressing buttons): [CENSORED] [CENSORED] [CENSORED] with [CENSORED] and [CENSORED] [CENSORED]!
Ext. Day. Light industrial area. The Marauder II backpedals, pivots, and CLARKSON opens fire with a full broadside. To the audible surprise of everyone (including the EARTHFORCE LIEUTENANT), he hits one of the Earthforce Shadow Hawks dead-on, shredding its torso. Its auto-ejection system saves the pilot as the 'Mech BLOWS UP.
What follows is part thrilling three-on-three Solaris match and part comedy skit - except that, if you look closely, it becomes apparent that for all their arguing and bumbling, the three presenters actually seem to be pretty good MechWarriors. CLARKSON'S gunnery proves to be no fluke, MAY'S is if anything slightly better, and HAMMOND handles his Locust beautifully. In intercut sequences, we see him lead the Assassin a merry chase through the low warehouses and factories, drawing it far away from the rest of its lance before doubling back, getting the drop on it with his superior speed, and destroying it.
Unfortunately, the poor condition of the other two presenters' machines tells against them; MAY can't use anything like his Black Knight's full firepower because of its heat sink problem, and the Marauder II's hampered mobility makes it a poor match for the Guillotine. Eventually the Black Knight overheats and shuts down entirely (though it manages to destroy the second Shadow Hawk with the barrage that finally puts it over the top).
Int. Day. Black Knight cockpit. MAY, sweat pouring down his face, tries to restart the reactor, but the ignition system is fried.
May: ****.
MAY starts disengaging his seat harness, cooling lines, etc. and looking around for any survival equipment that might be stowed in the cockpit.
Ext. Day. Light industrial area. The Guillotine has taken a beating - it's missing its left arm entirely - but the Marauder II, with its slower speed and nonfunctioning jump jets, is looking in very bad shape. Most of its armor is gone and it's smoking.
Int. Day. Marauder II cockpit.
Clarkson: Pretty much every warning light I have in here is flashing. It reminds me a little of the last time I drove a Peugeot. The sense of impending annihilation is very similar, too, come to think of it.
Ext. Day. Light industrial area. The Marauder II attempts to get hull-down behind a building and bring its autocannon to bear, but something inside it emits a burst of sparks and it stiffens, tilting awkwardly.
Int. Day. Marauder II cockpit. Even more warning lights start flashing and a siren sounds.
Clarkson: That's it. My gyros have gone. There's nothing I can do.
Ext. Day. Light industrial area. The Marauder II, smoke now pouring from its damaged torso, collapses against the side of the building, crushing the brickwork. The Guillotine moves in for the kill.
Several blocks up the main road, HAMMOND'S Locust appears out of a side street.
Int. Day. Locust IIC cockpit. HAMMOND reacts to the sight of his colleagues' 'Mechs both out of commission and the Guillotine closing in on CLARKSON with shock, changing very quickly to anger.
Hammond: Right. My lasers won't do a thing against him, so there's only one thing to do. Forget the guns. Ramming speed!
Ext. Day. Light industrial area. The Locust IIC breaks into a full sprint, accelerating rapidly to full speed, its tridactyl feet throwing up chunks of pavement from the street.
Int. Day. Locust IIC cockpit. The scene is now bouncing and shaking so violently that the camera can't keep up and HAMMOND can barely be made out.
Hammond (slightly garbled): The ride quality's... not brilliant. If I'm honest.
Ext. Day. Light industrial area. The Guillotine's pilot notices the Locust bearing down on him and changes tack, turning to meet the attack, but it's too late - by the time his weapons will bear, the Locust will be on top of him.
Int. Day. Locust IIC cockpit. HAMMOND braces for impact.
Ext. Day. Light industrial area. A few seconds before the two 'Mechs would've crashed, a FIREBALL streaks out of the sky with a noise like a thunderbolt and strikes the Guillotine dead-center, blowing it to smithereens.
Int. Day. Locust IIC cockpit.
Hammond (astonished): Bloody hell!
Ext. Day. Light industrial area. The Locust IIC makes an emergency stop, sparks shrieking up from its feet as they skid on the tarmac; it stumbles over the edge of the crater the Guillotine's destruction just made in the street, backpedals, overbalances, and falls down.
HAMMOND emerges from the Locust's top hatch, looking warily around. A few yards away, a GIANT METAL CYLINDER about 10 feet in diameter is half-buried in the bottom of the crater - apparently the projectile that destroyed the Guillotine. MAY and CLARKSON, carrying their 'Mechs' emergency kits, arrive from opposite directions, and all three stand staring at the cooling wreckage.
May: Strewth, where'd that come from?
Hammond: The sky, James. It came from the sky.
MAY gives him a look.
May: Thank you, I gathered that part.
Hammond: We'd better get out of here. Those ejection pods had to come down somewhere, and the people in them are not going to be pleased with us.
Clarkson: My 'Mech's had it.
May: So's mine.
Clarkson: And so's yours. (Points to one of the Locust's ankle joints, which was damaged in the fall; the toes of that foot dangle limply.)
Hammond: Well, we've come this far. (Looks around at their battle-damaged surroundings.) We'll have to take one of these cars.
...
