Favorite Sci-Fi Smackdown?

[QuantumLobsters]

Stargate SG-1, "Threads":

*Daniel looks at Oma and sees that she's not going to do anything. He jumps up and runs at Anubis, but runs straight through him. He stops and turns around to face him again. Anubis chuckles.*

ANUBIS: There's nothing you can do. You don't have the power.

OMA: But I do.

ANUBIS: You can't kill me either.

OMA: I can fight you.

ANUBIS: Well, you can't win.

OMA: It won't matter. You won't be able to do anything but fight me back.

ANUBIS: Well, what are you gonna do?

OMA: Something I should have done a long time ago. (She starts to walk towards him.)

ANUBIS: Oh, no. No. No! No!

[Kuja]

The Kiryu shoulder slam from Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla. Makes the Big G go from vertical to horizontal in about a second flat.

[Drooling Iguana]

Well this isn't exactly science fiction, but still...

[Crazedwraith]

Nightcrawler vs the White House, X2.

Wolverine gets killed by Death. Can't remeber which issue of X-Men but it was just before Apocolypse's crappy gathering of twelve. It was Wolverine as Death killing a skrull that we thought was Wolverine.

Smith smacking down Morpheus. Matrix

Smith smacking down Neo in the underground station. (He won that fight then lost it in typical supervillain fasion) Matrix

The original Terminator going down in Terminator

[aten_vs_ra]

Many moments in Transformers The Movie are excellent.

"I still function."
"Wanna bet?"

"Megatron, is that you?"
"Here's a hint."

"I now possess that which you most fear."
"You underestimate me Galvatron."

"Sharkticons execute them!"
"Me Grimlock say execute them."

There are more, but those are my favorites.

[jack cloudy]

This is not from a movie. I really like a scene from the game starfleet academy. (There are lots of little movies there)

Anyway, there are some cadets who don't agree with the federations non-violence policy and planted some bombs. Forrester (you) *infiltrates* this group. When he hears of the bomb thing, he says that kirk who they see as a heroe might want to join. Kirk arrives, the countdown of the bombs is activated, Forrester tries to diffuse them, gets caught, the bad guys leader points a phaser at his face, Kirk manages to convince him to give the phaser to him since he is supposed to become their leader anyway and he should be the one who dishes out the punishment.

*Kirk looks at the phaser he just got*:,,This phaser isn't set to kill."
*Malan (bad guy) looks confused*:,, It isn't?"
Kirk:,,No, this phaser is set to wide angle stun."
*Waves phaser across the screen and all the bad guys drop to the floor*

After that, Kirk calls in two security officers (they actaully wear armour!)
and the bad guys get arrested. Now that was fun, seeing how they got phasered by their heroe.

[CJvR]

From Barrayar:
Cordelia Vorkosigan & company have captured the pretender to the throne in his palace that is now burning down around them.

Vidal Vordarian the pretender:
"Dead, I'm no use to you as a hostage"
Cordelia:
"You're of no use to me at all, Emperor Vidal. Bothari, execute this man for me, please"

[seanrobertson]

Many moments in Transformers The Movie are excellent.

"I still function."
"Wanna bet?"

"Megatron, is that you?"
"Here's a hint."

"I now possess that which you most fear."
"You underestimate me Galvatron."

"Sharkticons execute them!"
"Me Grimlock say execute them."

There are more, but those are my favorites.

Very good choices. Though the first three are the best in the film (the dialouge immediately before Starscream's disintegration is my all-time favorite "owning" ), I'll also throw this in the mix:

"Fall, fall! [blaster shots] It's over, Prime."

"[labored breathing]...NEVER!"

[Agent R]

Voyager Holodoc in "Future's End," just before he phasers the conspiracy nut holding Torres and Chakotay hostage:

"Divine intervention is . . . unlikely."

[Eleas]

For a thoroughly cerebral beatdown, I nominate the discussion between Doctor Scheber and Inspector Bumstead in Dark City.

"I'm sorry that I cannot be of more assistance to you, Inspector, but I am running late for an appointment."
"Well I appreciate you taking the time, Doctor. There's this thing that puzzles me. I've met quite a few murderers in the course of my work. Murdoch... doesn't strike me as one."
"Perhaps you're not accustomed to digging... deep enough."
"Well, I do know when someone's lying to me, Doctor."
"Inspector, judging personalities happens to be my business."
"Then maybe you can give me a few pointers."
"Certainly." Scheber smiles genially. "Let's take you, for instance. You are... a fastidious man. Driven. Consumed by... details." He watches as arrogance drains from Bumstead, then concludes. "I would say your life is... rather lonely. Good evening Inspector, I really must be going."

It was the acting that really sold this scene. Lesser actors wouldn't even have understood what happened from reading the script, but Hurt and Sutherland really make it obvious that Bumstead just got well and truly schooled.

[Lord of the Abyss]

The interrogation scene in Crown of Slaves, where Victor Cachet terrorizes the Mesan scum into telling him what he wants.

"I think Mesa's line of credit just ran out. Who's that guy standing in the middle?"
"Victor Cachat," Thandi whispered back. "He's—well, he's from Haven, although he's supposedly just here on a private visit."
Berry Zilwicki's jaw sagged. "But . . . I met him. This guy doesn't look . . . oh. I guess he is the same guy. But he sure doesn't look the same as he did at the funeral."
The girl studied Cachat for a moment longer. Then: "He looks maybe fifteen centimeters taller, fifteen centimeters wider—I don't remember his shoulders being that broad—a lot older, and . . . oh, Jesus." The next words came in a whisper so low they could barely be heard: "I really feel sorry for those guys."
"I don't," hissed Thandi.
Their whispers must have been louder than Thandi thought, because Cachat turned his head to look at them. There was no expression on his face. In fact, Thandi could barely recognize him herself. The pale features under the spotlights were the same, true, but the eyes now seemed like black stones, and the face itself no longer seemed square so much as a block of marble.
Cachat's eyes met hers. Still, there was no expression on his face, no sign of any recognition, or sentiment, or . . . anything. There was nothing. It was like staring into the darkened eyes of a statue—or a golem.
Cachat's head swiveled away, bringing the eyes back to bear on the men shackled to the chairs. Despite their immobilization, the four of them tried to lean away from his gaze. Even the religious fanatic Flairty seemed to shrink like a slowly deflating balloon. Thandi could only imagine how menacing those black eyes must seem at close range, when you were their actual target.

The curtain rises. Thandi's thought was more grim than amused. We begin with the baddies in a very desperate situation. Manpower bigshots and goons, bound and helpless, surrounded by their victims. Eight of whom are killers dedicated to their destruction.
Victor Cachat lifted the pulser out of its holster.
And a very desperate situation just got worse.
Way, way, way, way worse.
* * *
Haicheng Ringstorff didn't doubt it at all. The black eyes staring down at him—then moving slowly across the faces of Diem and Lithgow and Flairty—seemed completely empty. It was like being stared at by a void. The pale, harshly cut face had no expression Ringstorff could detect beyond, perhaps, a certain clinical detachment. They weren't even the eyes of an executioner. Just the eyes of a man conducting an experiment, the end result of which was a matter of indifference to him. Whether positive or negative, it would be simply data to be recorded.
The voice, when it spoke, was the same. Nothing. Just words, sounding like surgical instruments.
"Here's how it will be. I require certain information from you. The information would be useful, but not essential. With the information, I can proceed with my existing plan. Without it, I'll need to develop another one."

Ringstorff was amazed at the complete indifference in the man's tone of voice. He'd always thought of himself as "hard-boiled," but . . . this guy . . .
What demon's pit did they dredge him up from, anyway?
"First, I require the security codes to the Felicia III. It's possible my estimate is wrong, and the Felicia is not a slaver in the employ of the Jessyk Combine. In that case, of course, you won't know the security codes and will be useless. All of you will then die immediately. Beyond that—"
Again, he made that minimal shoulder twitch. "But there's no point wasting time with what might come 'beyond that.' We probably won't get there anyway."
He paused, and gave them all that slow, sweeping, empty-eyed examination.
"I have neither the time nor the inclination to use interrogation drugs or torture. Neither is really all that reliable, nor do I see where it's necessary. All that's necessary is for me to establish clearly in your minds that I have no respect at all for your lives, and will kill any of you without a moment's hesitation."
He raised the pulser, aimed, fired. A hole appeared between Flairty's eyes and the back of his head exploded. Flairty's body rocked back and forth for a moment in the heavy chair, and then slumped in the shackles.
"I believe that's now been established." The voice still had no tone at all. "But in case it hasn't—"
The pulser swiveled again, to come to bear on Diem's head. "Do I need to make another demonstration?"

[Lord of the Abyss]

Also from Crown of Slaves, the scene where the unarmed Thandi Pavane ambushes a bunch of armed Masadan/Scrag terrorists :

Now.
She was through the duct, holding the edge with her hands and swinging down gracefully in a half-somersault; then, a short drop to the floor of the tube, landing silently on her toes.
Abraham Templeton and all of his men were facing away from her, staring at the open duct next to the tool box which the princess must have used for her escape. Several of them were still shouting, with Abraham's furious voice overriding the rest. Thandi could see the feet of a man disappearing into the vent as he set off in pursuit.
Bless you, girl. You may have just saved my life.
One-two-three strides, moving like a ghost. Abraham Templeton died without ever seeing it come. Thandi's fist crushed the back of his skull like an egg. Her ensuing kick drove his corpse into his followers, sending half of them sprawling.
The nearest one left standing swivelled his gun hand toward her. A Scrag, he was, with the fast reflexes and the sneer to go with it. The sneer didn't fade even when her hand closed over his wrist. The Scrag, well-trained, simply began a standard disengagement maneuver.
Thandi knew the counter, but saw no reason to bother with it. She just slammed the Scrag against the wall of the duct, using his wrist to hurl him as if he were a toddler. Almost as an afterthought, she broke the wrist.
He slumped, stunned, his gun falling to the floor. Thandi ignored the pulser. Speed and sheer force would be her best weapons in the here and now.
One and a half long strides put her in the middle of them. They were still confused, several just getting back onto their feet. The stride ended in another kick, which caved in a rib cage. An elbow strike shattered a face and broke the man's neck in the bargain. An open palm strike did the same for another. A spinning side kick broke a thigh; the follow-on kick dislocated the shoulder.
Now, a Scrag, quicker and stronger. For the first time, she had to block a blow. And did so with such violence the man's forearm was broken. An instant later, Thandi's fist shattered his sternum, driving bone into his heart. The Scrag fell back, dying, a look of sheer astonishment on his face. The expression of a man who'd thought to face a woman in battle, only to find a monster in disguise.
She danced back, poised, ready—
No need. Her women were there, now, and Thandi had only left two of Templeton's men intact. The fact that they were both Scrags didn't help them in the least. Made it worse, in fact, since the women had a score to settle. Which they did, bare-handed, so savagely that Thandi was almost appalled.
Almost, not quite.

A quote from the aftermath :

"For the love of God," Walter muttered, "what did she use on them? A sledgehammer?"
Victor was able to study the scene with more in the way of clinical detachment. But even he was a little shaken. It was a bit odd, perhaps, since the gore and blood left in the main gaming hall was actually far worse than this. But one expects to see gore and blood when pulsers come into play.
He looked, again, at the corpse of Abraham Templeton, lying prone on the floor. The back of his head had literally been caved in; the occiput not simply broken but splintered—and then the pieces driven a centimeter or more into the brain.
"Just her hands and feet and elbows," he said quietly. "I really don't think you understand what she is, Walter."

[CaptainChewbacca]

In Firefly's "The Train Job" the last scene:

MAL
Now this is all the money Niska gave us in advance. You give it back to him, tell him the job didn't work out. We're not thieves -- well, we are thieves, but -- the point is, we're not taking what's his. We'll stay out
of his way as best we can from here on in. You'll explain that's
best for everyone, okay? Crow rises. He towers over Mal, hatred on his face.

CROW
Keep the money. Use it to buy a funeral. It doesn't matter where
you go, how far you fly -- I will hunt you down and the last thing
you see will be my blade.

MAL
(sighs) Darn.

He kicks Crow back -- and the huge fellow is instantly SUCKED into the engine of the ship. It's very sudden, but the resultant crunching noise goes on for a bit.

A beat, and Zoe shoves one of Crow's henchmen in front of Mal.

Mal
(continuing)
Now. this is all the money Niska --

HENCHMAN
Oh I get it. I'm good. Best for everyone, I'm right there with you.

I saw that, and thought "now THIS is a show I can get into"

[Faqa]

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly:

*Old rival catches up with Ugly in the bathtub*

*Old rival draws pistol, proceeds to gloat about how long he's been waiting for this very moment-*

BOOM!

*Ugly guy shoots from inside bathtub*

Ugly guy: "If you have to shoot, shoot, don't talk!"

Priceless...


ESB:

Han Solo seeing the great Darth Vader, drawing on him and shooting.... Vader deflects with his hand and Force-grabs the pistol out of Solo's hand. If that's not a smackdown, I don't know what is...

SPD:

Merc: "She's not a human! She's just a CYBORG!!"

Cruger: *sidekick* "And YOU are just a criminal!"

Proceeds to pwnzor his ass.

Street Fighter:

Bison: "You'll have to do better than that!"
Guile: "OK!" *Kicks Bison in the chest, sends flying across the platform*

[Gandalf]

Ep3: Yoda and the Royal Guards.

Buffy beating the shit out of Glory with Olaf's hammer.

Warren "vs" Willow. Warren throws a few magical items at Willow, who is somewhat upset. They barely even slow her down. She catches up with him, uses magic to get vines to hold him in one spot. She then puts a bullet through him, slowly. Then skins him.

[Lord of the Abyss]

The scene in Heart of Darkness where Belisarius is asked by Link if he will betray Rome to Malwa. He says "Fuck Malwa.", boots the chief spy of Malwa in the face ( permanently disfiguring him ) and leaps out a nearby window to escape.

The scene in An Oblique Approach where Raghunath Rao enters the Palace of the Vile One with only a dagger, and kills everybody inside except the innocent servants and Shakuntala, whom he's come to rescue.

The scene in 1632 where Julie snipes enemy soldiers by the dozen as they attack the school.

James waited until the officers had gathered. He and Julie were positioned at the open window of a classroom on the second floor, facing to the south.
“I’ll take the guy in the middle,” he said, sighting down the barrel of the .30-06. “You take—”
Julie started firing. Crackcrackcrackcrack. By the time James took out the general—a perfect shot, right in the middle of the sniper’s triangle—four of his officers were already dead.
Julie ejected the magazine and slapped in another. Crackcrack. Two more. Crack. Another.
The sole surviving officer spurred his horse into motion. It did him no good at all. Julie tracked him for not more than a ­second.
Crack.
“Jesus Christ,” whispered James. He turned his head and stared at the girl next to him.
She responded with a glare. As she started reloading her rifle, she chanted in a little singsong: “‘Can you handle a .30-06 semiautomatic, Ju-lie?’ ”
Nichols grinned. He extended his own rifle to her. “Tell you what, Julie. Why don’t you do the shooting and let me reload for you?”
“Good idea,” she growled.

<snip>

The horde of Croats milling around on the parking lot south of the school was bellowing like a herd of enraged bulls. Enraged—and terrified. Many of them were already dismounting, and the rest were frantically trying to force their horses away from that hideous ­window.
For a time, they had tried to return fire. But it was hopeless. Twice they had managed, by sheer weight of hastily “aimed” pistol volleys, to drive the terror away. But destruction returned, almost at once. Four rounds to a magazine, fired as rapidly as James could reload. And while the school only had two rifles, there had been plenty of ammunition.
Crackcrackcrackcrack. Crackcrackcrackcrack. Like Death, wielding his unstoppable scythe, reaping men with each sweep like so many fistfuls of grain.
A few of the Croats, by now, understood that the murder was being rained upon them by a demon. A monster taking the form of a girl. A pretty one, too, to make the horror worse. But not many. Those Croats who were foolish enough to spend time studying the window usually died within seconds.

As he kept reloading and swapping the rifles, James Nichols was almost in awe. Abstractly, he could understand what he was seeing. The girl had trained for the biathlon, after all. The emphasis in that sport was on short-range shooting, not long-distance. And there was an absolute premium on firing quickly and moving to the next target. But the doctor still knew that he was in the presence of something truly special.
Julie Sims’ face held no expression at all, beyond concentration. None. She was completely in the zone. A pure killing machine. At that short range, even shooting rifles she had not sighted in, she never missed. Not once.
To James Nichols, watching, it was almost like a religious experience. An angel had materialized, and declared every man within a hundred yards to be hers by God’s will.
The scythe swept again. Crackcrackcrackcrack. The angel of death reaped and reaped.

From the same book, the scene where a thug and would-be pimp tries to terrorize Gretchen.

When Gretchen was fifteen feet away from Jungers, she stopped. So did he, leering cheerfully. He took his hand from the dirk and planted his arms akimbo.
“Well now, girl—it seems to me—”
“Did you see my husband?” interrupted Gretchen.
Jungers broke off. For an instant, his face was still. Then, just as quickly, the leer was back. More of a sneer, really.
“The big fat one? Not worried about him.”
“No reason to be,” agreed Gretchen. She nodded, then smiled. The smile was very thin. Like a razor.
“He would have tried to reason with you. That’s why I love him so.” Gretchen reached into her bodice and removed the 9mm. The motion was easy and relaxed. So was the way she levered the slide. So was the way she slipped into a firing crouch, and brought the pistol up in a two-handed grip. She had spent hours and hours on the firing range, over the past few weeks, being trained by Dan Frost.
Jungers’ eyes widened. But he never thought to reach for his dirk. He didn’t recognize the pistol for what it was, until the first shot was fired. But that shot blew out his cerebellum along with his teeth, so the thought was fleeting.
Gretchen stepped up four paces, aimed at the body lying on the street, and fired again. That round went into the heart. There was no need for it, but Dan had trained her to go for the body mass shot. “No headshots unless they’re wearing armor,” he had insisted, over and again. Gretchen was feeling a little guilty. She just hadn’t been able to resist wiping that leer away.

[Lord of the Abyss]

Also from 1632, the Americans little discussion with surrendered mercenaries ( a nonviolent smackdown, this one ):

The rest? The ones to whom Gretchen would not give the nod?
They expected to be executed, of course. Their actual fate was far more bizarre—and, truth be told, much more unsettling.
None of those men had ever seen a photograph before. Seeing one—seeing their own faces on it—was bad enough. The writing on the posters was worse. Many of those men could read. Most of them, actually, since Gretchen had a low opinion of officers. The ones who couldn’t got a translation from their literate fellows.
The posters were identical, except for the photograph and the name.

wanted—dead
this man is declared outlaw
if he is found anywhere in american territory
after july 5, 1631
kill him
no questions will be asked

Heinrich acted as interpreter.
“You’ve got two days,” he growled. “Better move fast. You’re on foot with nothing but the clothes on your backs.”
The former commander of the tercio cleared his throat. “This is unclear,” he whined. “Just how far does this—this ‘American territory’ extend?”
Heinrich turned to Mike for the answer. Mike said nothing. He just gave the commanding officer a stare.

A few months later, the officer found himself another employer. The Tsar. Russia, he thought, would be far enough.

[IRG CommandoJoe]

Very recently I read a scene where Luke and Mara wipe out an entire Vagaari force. The Vagaari never knew what a Jedi's capabilities were until that moment. The leader, Bearsh, just stood there in astonishment. That was a pretty cool moment.

[Castor Troy]

In ROTS, when Anakin starts whining about not being on the Jedi Council, then Samuel L. Jackson lays the law down.