Two Of Nine: Input failure.
Four Of Nine: Input failure.
Three Of Nine: Input failure.
Seven Of Nine: Our link to the Collective has been severed. Initiate secondary protocols. The vessel's transwarp chamber is approaching critical pressure. We must evacuate this area.
All: Agreed.
Two Of Nine: No directional coordinates available.
Seven Of Nine: That way. Bearing three zero one.
All: Agreed:
Seven Of Nine: Bring that drone. Captain's log: stardate 53049.2. We've docked at the Markonian outpost and agreed to mutual visits, so I'm allowing shore leave to anyone who wants it. Commander Tuvok has objected to taking on too many visitors, but security issues aside, I'm looking forward to a cultural exchange, and making some new friends.
Chakotay: Captain?
Janeway: I'll be right with you. The station manager didn't tell me the vines were prehensile. I went to put some water in the pot and it grabbed me.
Chakotay: This is a gift from the Kinbori delegation. I don't know its name, only that it's used in one of their sacred games and it's very heavy.
Janeway: Put it down anywhere. Thank the Kinbori for me and give them a token of our esteem.
Chakotay: I already gave them a Voyager medallion. They seemed appreciative.
Janeway: Come in. Doesn't it look like Christmas morning in here, Commander?
Chakotay: You have to admit the generosity of our guests is very impressive.
Tuvok: As is their proclivity for criminal behavior. This morning's security report.
Janeway: A broken ODN line, some missing personal items, a damaged scanner relay. All in all, not that bad.
Tuvok: There is a second page to the report.
Janeway: Oh. Some of these incidents are a little more serious but, on balance, I still think we did the right thing.
Tuvok: There is a third page.
Chakotay: Come on, Tuvok. After all the xenophobic races we've run into, don't you find it just a little refreshing to meet some people who value openness and freedom?
Janeway: Well as far as I'm concerned, opening the ship has been a fascinating experience and an unqualified success. I'm very pleased.
Chakotay: Me too.
Tuvok: I am pleased that you are pleased. If you'll excuse me.
Chakotay: Tuvok. Please accept this token of our esteem.
Janeway: Ooh, ow! It's got me by the hair!
Naomi: Now it's twelve forty five.
Seven: If you're hungry you may eat without me.
Naomi: You said we'd have lunch together.
Seven: I haven't completed my analysis of the station's power conversion matrix.
Naomi: How long is it going to take?
Seven: Several hours.
Naomi: Seven, you promised.
Seven: Very well.
Naomi: I think it's even more crowded than this morning.
Seven: Yes.
Naomi: Excuse us. Excuse us. Please, we're trying to get through to the turbolift. Excuse us.
Seven: Stand aside!
Naomi: Thank you.
Neelix: I'm sorry, but there's no more Marsupial surprise. We only had two kilos of pouches to begin with, and it's all gone. Now how about some pizza, huh?
Naomi: She's a Shivolian, right?
Seven: Correct.
Naomi: Species five two one?
Seven: Your mother would not approve of you memorizing Borg designations. I don't approve either. We've discussed the impropriety of you emulating the Borg.
Naomi: Sorry.
Seven: I'm finished.
Naomi: We just sat down.
Seven: I do not enjoy crowds.
Naomi: But you were in the Collective. Wasn't that like a big crowd?
Seven: Which is why I do not enjoy them now.
Naomi: Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize that. Let's go.
Two: Excuse me. Are you Seven of Nine?
Seven: Yes.
Naomi: You okay?
Seven: These are Borg synaptic relays from my original Unimatrix.
Naomi: These are yours?
Seven: Where did you acquire them?
Two: A trader from Orendal Five. I was told you are a former Borg drone and might be interested in acquiring these pieces.
Seven: I'll take them. Captain Janeway will provide you with whatever monetary reimbursement you require.
Two: Agreed.
Seven: I must examine these items more closely.
Naomi: Okay.
Naomi: What's your name?
Naomi: That was rude.
Two Of Nine: Stage two is complete. She has the relays.
Two: She's going to study them.
Three: Her regeneration alcove is in Cargo Bay Two.
Four: That's where she'll go. We should prepare for stage three.
Three: Agreed.
Two: There's consensus. Rendezvous at my coordinates and stand by to penetrate their security.
Nine: Error.
Seven Of Nine: Explain.
Four Of Nine: We shouldn't be desecrating the body of this drone. It is against the will of Brothara.
Three Of Nine: Who is Brothara?
Two Of Nine: Brothara. Supernatural deity worshiped by species five seven one.
Four Of Nine: I am a member of species five seven one.
Seven Of Nine: You're being confused by irrelevant data. Ignore it.
Three Of Nine: You said I am a member of species five seven one. Do you consider yourself an individual?
Seven Of Nine: There are no individuals here. We are Borg.
All: Agreed.
Seven Of Nine: Resume constructing the communications beacon.
Torres: It looks like a standard Borg synaptic relay.
Seven: There must be something more. When I first came into contact with it, I was overwhelmed with images, memories, sounds.
Torres: Sounds like a perfectly natural reaction to me. That was part your old unimatrix, right? Well, isn't it at least possible that what you experienced was simply nostalgia? You know, sentimental feelings about the past.
Seven: I know what nostalgia is, but I have no feelings about the past.
Torres: Okay. I think I've done all I can here.
Seven: Lieutenant. You were trying to help. I appreciate that.
Torres: Anytime. Oh, and, er, you may not be nostalgic about the past, but I'd say you definitely have feelings about it. Strong ones.
Two: Their security protocols are formidable. We may not have enough time.
Four: I'm worried about Seven of Nine. We should re-examine the question of simply asking
Three: You know what her reactions will be. She won't help us because she
Two: We've been through all that.
Four: She could be permanently injured. I don't want to harm her.
Two: Enough!
Three: I need consensus.
Two: We can't act without it.
Four: I know.
Two: So then it's up to you. Do we proceed or not?
Four: Yes. We, I apologize for my indecision.
Three: Apologies are irrelevant.
Seven: Computer, begin multi-polar analysis.
Computer: Analysis underway.
Seven: Time to completion?
Computer: Five hours, seventeen minutes.
Two: She's regenerating.
Three: Begin rerouting their internal sensors.
Four: Rerouting sensor input to secondary processors.
Three: Hold.
Chakotay: What have you got?
Tuvok: There's a power fluctuation in the security grid.
Chakotay: All we know is that we've got a security breach. We don't know where.
Two: Ready. Insert the interlink module.
Three: Ready.
Two: He's still worried about injuring her.
Three: If we fail, we'll never become individuals. We have to remember that.
Two: There is consensus.
Two: I've found her memory files.
Three: She's aware of our presence.
Two: She's trying to regain consciousness.
Four: We must abort.
Three: No! We're too close.
Seven: I will not comply.
Seven Of Nine: I have performed this action before. I was with my father. He was a tall man.
Two Of Nine: I have a similar memory. But I was in a house and the fire was in the hearth.
Four Of Nine: The biomatter is ready.
Three Of Nine: It tastes similar to a bird I once ate.
Four Of Nine: I used to prepare food for my parents. They lived in a small building by a river.
Seven Of Nine: I used to be afraid of the dark.
Two Of Nine: Just before I was assimilated, I was eating with a group of men. We worked in numbers. Mathematics. I calculated equations for another man.
Three Of Nine: I have a name. It's Marika. Marika Willkarah. Willkarah.
Two Of Nine: Hello, Marika Willkarah.
Seven Of Nine: Her designation is Three of Nine.
Four Of Nine: I have a name. P'Chan. Son of Dornar and Ansha. My primary function was to care for them.
Three Of Nine: I was married. We were on a starship, the Excalibur. I worked in Engineering.
Two Of Nine: This is not my hand.
Four Of Nine: My parents are dead. The Borg killed them. I hate the Borg.
Seven Of Nine: This is counterproductive. We must delete all irrelevant data.
Two Of Nine: I want my hand back.
Three Of Nine: I was on duty, the night watch, when the Borg came. Oh, my God, look at what they've done to me. These, these things they put in my body. What have they done?
Seven Of Nine: Command override. Cease this interaction. Comply! We will not access these memory files again. Initiate the prescribed maintenance and survival protocols only. No further communication is required until we are r-assimilated into the Collective.
Two Of Nine: Agreed.
Three Of Nine: Agreed.
Four Of Nine: Agreed.
Emh: But whoever removed their implants was a poor surgeon. Their internal organs were damaged during the procedure and their bodies are covered with scars.
Janeway: You said you recognized them.
Seven: Not at first. But when they attempted to access my memory files I was momentarily linked with them. Two of Nine. Three of Nine. Four of Nine. We were all members of the same Unimatrix.
Janeway: Do you know why they were trying to access your memories?
Seven: No.
Janeway: How long have they been disconnected from the Collective?
Emh: Three or four months. However, they are still connected to each other. Somehow, the left parietal lobes of their brains have been transformed into organic interlink nodes. They've become linked together into a sort of Collective Triad.
Janeway: Revive them. I'm Captain Janeway. We know who you are and we know what you were trying to do. What we don't know is why.
Two: She has information we need.
Janeway: What kind of information?
Two: We want to become
Three: Individuals.
Janeway: You want to break the neural link between the three of you?
Three: Wouldn't you? None of us is alone with our own thoughts, our own feelings.
Two: Every day of my life is spent hearing their two voices in my head.
Four: When we're asleep, we experience each other's dreams.
Emh: How's that different from life in the Collective?
Seven: In the Collective there are billions of voices. They become white noise.
Two: But, with only three
Three: Each voice comes through clearly.
Four: It has to stop. We must break the neural link.
Janeway: Doctor, is there anything you can do?
Emh: The modifications are too extensive. Their neuronal pathways have been fundamentally altered.
Two: You hold the key.
Seven: Why?
Three: You were there with us.
Four: Planet one eight six five alpha. You must remember.
Seven: Eight years ago our vessel crashed. The four of us were the only survivors.
Two: When we were reassimilated
Three: We found we'd been linked together somehow.
Four: We were a subset within the Collective.
Two: It's like having three voices whispering in one ear
Three: And a crowd screaming in the other
Four: We had to break free, so we worked together. We finally escaped.
Two: We had our implants removed on Inavar Prime.
Three: But they couldn't break the neural link.
Four: We need to find out what happened eight years ago, after the crash.
Two: The night we were reassimilated into the Collective. We need to know how the link was created, but our memories are
Three: Fragmented, disorganized. We hoped that you would know.
Seven: I don't. However, I am willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Come with me.
Seven: Are you ready?
Four: Yes.
Seven: Data search complete. Do you remember anything further?
Four: No. My last memory
Three: Is of us standing
All: Around the campfire.
Seven: And yet the data files in your cortical processor appear to be intact. I see no evidence that would explain your lapse in memory.
Two: What about you? Why don't you remember what happened?
Seven: I don't know. I've found no evidence of damage to my memory files either. I remember the campfire and then waking up in the Collective. There is an obvious gap, but no indication of why.
Two: Why do they still call you Seven? You should have a name.
Seven: It is my name.
Four: No. It's a designation. You're an individual now.
Seven: I decided that my former name was no longer appropriate. Prepare to reinitialize the memory cascade.
Three: I can't wait to use my real name again.
Seven: There is nothing preventing you from doing so.
Two: Except that most of the time I don't know whether my name is Marika, P'Chan or Lansor. The names, the memories
Four: The memories, even the thoughts flow from one to the other.
Three: I can't love or hate or laugh.
All: Or cry without sharing it with them.
Two: How can any of us take a name for
All: For ourselves?
Four: We're not individuals.
Three: We're not Borg.
Two: We're nothing.
Seven: Begin the memory cascade.
Janeway: A friendly game?
Paris: Well, that's how it started.
Janeway: I see. Perhaps you could explain to me how this friendly game turned into a street brawl?
Paris: Well, Harry and I wanted to explore the station. We wanted to broaden our understanding of alien cultures and, er
Janeway: Skip the recruiting speech. You were looking for a bar. Then what?
Kim: Well, we found one, and we met a pair of Kinbori who told us about this game they play with these big, odd-looking rackets.
Janeway: You mean one of those?
Both: Yeah!
Paris: In any case, they challenged us to a game and we accepted, but I guess we weren't quite aware of all the rules.
Janeway: Because you'd been drinking.
Paris: Yes, ma'am. You see, we thought it was a version of tennis, but as soon as we hit the first volley this Kinbori jumps over the net and starts attacking us with his racket.
Kim: So we figured we were supposed to fight back.
Paris: Yeah.
Kim: And then, er, well, things got a little out of hand.
Janeway: A little out of hand? Seven Voyager crewmen, including two bridge officers, along with thirteen Kinbori and one Morphinian café owner, all arrested. The charges range from disorderly conduct to assault on a security officer.
Kim: That last one's not true.
Janeway: Thank you, Mister Kim. I'll note that exception in my log. You're both confined to quarters until further notice, after you report to Sickbay. That's all. Well, did you win?
Paris: Oh yes, ma'am.
Kim: We kicked their rackets.
Janeway: Good. Dismissed.
Janeway: Any progress?
Seven: I've determined that we all have exactly the same gap in our memories. It seems unlikely that it would be a coincidence.
Janeway: So you believe the Collective deliberately wiped your recollections of the reassimilation process?
Seven: It is the most likely explanation.
Janeway: But?
Seven: The Collective would not care that four drones remember being reassimilated.
Janeway: Something must have happened during the process. Something they wanted to hide from you. Let's look at this from a different perspective. Why would the Collective lock them into a neural triad in the first place?
Seven: I don't know. There is no advantage to having three drones linked together in this manner.
Janeway: They obviously did it for some reason. And I get the feeling that if we can answer that question, the rest should fall into place. But I wish we could find a way to close the gaps in your memories.
Seven: There is a way.
Janeway: I assume there's a reason you didn't mention it before now?
Seven: It would involve linking my neural interface to theirs. Together, we may be able to restore the missing data. However, I would again be part of a group mind.
Janeway: You're not eager to revisit that experience, hmm?
Seven: There's also the possibility that I could become trapped in the neural link.
Janeway: Turning the triad into a quartet. I won't ask you to take that kind of risk.
Seven: I do feel compelled to help them, but I am uncertain as to the correct course of action.
Janeway: Let me ask you something. Do you think of these people as family?
Seven: Is it relevant?
Janeway: There's an old saying. Blood is thicker than water. It means that the ties of family run deeper than any other kind of relationship. We'll often do things for members of our family we'd never dream of doing for anyone else.
Naomi: Seven. Seven.
Seven: Naomi Wildman.
Naomi: I heard about the drones. Did they hurt you?
Seven: I am not damaged.
Naomi: What do they want?
Seven: They are seeking information from me, but I am uncertain whether I can help them.
Naomi: Oh. Be careful.
Seven: Naomi Wildman, do you consider me to be family?
Naomi: I, I don't, I mean. Yes. Is that okay?
Seven: I have no objection.
Naomi: Do you think of me as family?
Seven: Yes.
Janeway: Captain's log, supplemental. Seven of Nine has decided to undergo the procedure that will link her mind with the other drones. Despite the risk involved, she feels an obligation to help these distant cousins.
Emh: I'll be monitoring your neural readings while you're in the link, but I'm not certain I'll be able to counter the effects if you become trapped.
Seven: I know you'll do your best.
Emh: It's never a good sign when the patient feels the need to comfort the doctor. Good luck.
Seven: Ready?
Two: Ready.
Four: Ready.
Three: Ready.
Seven Of Nine: You are damaged. I will assist you. Don't worry. Everything will be all right. FOUR OF
Nine: The Collective has located us. A Borg vessel is on its way.
Seven Of Nine: We will be one with the Borg again.
Two Of Nine: No. I do not want to rejoin the Collective.
Four Of Nine: Agreed.
Seven Of Nine: That is in violation of all established protocols.
Three Of Nine: Forget the protocols. You're not a drone. You're a person, like us.
Four Of Nine: You have a name, a life. All you have to do is embrace who you really are.
Seven Of Nine: No. I do not exist. I am only part of the greater whole.
Two Of Nine: That's what they want you to believe. That's what they want us all to believe.
Seven Of Nine: We are Borg. Our primary function is to serve the Collective.
Two Of Nine: Not anymore.
Seven Of Nine: Error. Input failure.
Two Of Nine: They may know what planet we're on, but without the beacon it'll be far more difficult to locate us.
Three Of Nine: If we can remodulate our cortical implants, we might be able to elude their sensors.
Two Of Nine: We must leave this place.
Seven Of Nine: This discussion is in violation of all established protocols.
Three Of Nine: You stay here and be reassimilated if you want to. I won't. FOUR OF
Nine: What are you doing?
Seven Of Nine: The nanoprobes will create new interlink nodes in your left hemisphere. Resistance is futile. (A few moments later, he gets up and follows her. They find Two, and Seven does the same to him. They finally catch up to Three.) THREE OF
Nine: I will not comply. I will not comply.
Seven Of Nine: State your designations.
Two Of Nine: Two of Nine. Primary adjunct of Unimatrix zero one.
Three Of Nine: Three of Nine. Auxiliary processor of Unimatrix zero one.
Four Of Nine: Four of Nine. Secondary adjunct of Unimatrix zero one.
Seven Of Nine: What is your primary function?
All: To serve the Collective.
Seven Of Nine: You will repair the communications beacon.
Two: It was you. You were responsible. What have you done to us?
Three: You linked us together.
Four: You're responsible for our suffering.
Three: How could you do it?
Two: If you didn't want to return to the Collective
Three: You didn't have to.
Seven: You don't understand what happened.
Seven: Somebody help me!
Tuvok: What's happening?
Emh: Somehow they broke their link with Seven. They're malfunctioning. Help me get them to Sickbay.
Emh: When they broke the connection with you, it must have overloaded their cortical implants. They went into neural shock.
Seven: And yet I was undamaged?
Emh: I think I know why. You said you remembered injecting them with nanoprobes eight years ago.
Seven: Yes. It created an interlink between them. It was the only way to prevent them from escaping the Collective.
Emh: Well, it seems to have had an unfortunate side effect. Their higher brain functions were somehow tied into the interlink. When they broke their connection with you in the cargo bay, the shock to their cognitive systems was too great.
Seven: Can you revive them?
Emh: I can remove the microcortical implants. That would break the link binding them together, but it would also kill them. They'd only live a matter of weeks. A month at the most.
Seven: What are the other options?
Emh: They could be returned to the Borg. If they were reassimilated into the Collective, they would regain consciousness, and then live out a normal life span.
Seven: As drones.
Emh: As drones. But they'd be alive, Seven.
Seven: They have no hope of surviving unless they return to the Collective.
Chakotay: Not exactly a happy ending, is it?
Seven: No.
Chakotay: Back on that planet, why do you think you reacted so differently from the rest of them? Why were you so afraid of becoming an individual?
Seven: When I was first assimilated into the Collective, I was a child. They were assimilated as adults. When our individual memories began to resurface
Chakotay: Yours were of being a little girl. A scared little girl.
Seven: I let that fear control me. After I saw the drone die in the swamp, I panicked. I began to envision my own death. Alone, without even the sound of another drone to comfort me. So I forced them to return. I infiltrated their left cerebral hemispheres with nanoprobes and created a new interlink network. One that they couldn't resist. And then I eliminated the evidence of what I had done.
Chakotay: You were overwhelmed by feelings you couldn't begin to understand. You're not responsible for that.
Seven: Because of what I did, they'll be forced to live the rest of their lives in the Collective. For that, I am responsible.
Chakotay: There's a difference between surviving and living. They'll survive in the Collective, but they won't really be alive. You know that better than any of us.
Seven: There is no alternative.
Chakotay: How long would they survive if the Doctor deactivated this interlink network you created?
Seven: A month at most.
Chakotay: A month as an individual, or a lifetime as a drone. Which option would you choose?
Seven: Survival is insufficient.
Emh: I beg your pardon?
Seven: Eight years ago, I forced them to return to the Collective. I won't make the same mistake again. They deserve to exist as individuals. We must terminate the link between them.
Emh: I understand that you feel a certain responsibility for these patients, but as their physician, so do I. It's my duty to preserve their lives for as long as possible, even if that means
Seven: I will not return them to the Borg.
Emh: Are you thinking of what's best for them, or for you?
Seven: Clarify.
Emh: You said it yourself. You made a mistake. And Seven of Nine doesn't like to make mistakes. She strives for perfection. I want you to think about the motivation behind your decision. Are you doing what's right for those three people, or are you trying to alleviate the guilt you feel over what happened eight years ago?
Seven: The damage I did can never be repaired, and my guilt is irrelevant. I simply want them to experience individuality, as I have. As you have. At one time, you were confined to this Sickbay. Your program was limited to emergency medical protocols. In some ways, you were not unlike a drone. But you were granted the opportunity to explore your individuality. You were allowed to expand your program. Your mobile emitter gives you freedom of movement. Your thoughts are your own. If you were told you had to become a drone again, I believe you would resist.
Emh: Yes. I suppose I would.
Seven: They would resist as well. They would choose freedom, no matter how fleeting. Only you and I can truly understand that.
Emh: Survival is insufficient.
Three: It's so quiet.
Four: I had no idea you were going to say that. I don't know what either of you is thinking.
Two: I'd forgotten what it was like to be alone with my own thoughts. I'm leaving.
Three: Where will you go?
Two: I want to see the space station, to meet new people. To fill my life with life again, in the time I have left.
Four: I'm leaving as well. There's an uninhabited planet only a few light years from here. I'd like to spend my final days in the open air.
Four: My people don't believe in holding grudges. I wish you well, Seven of Nine.
Seven: Thank you.
Three: It's nice to be on a Federation Starship again. I'd like to stay aboard Voyager.
Seven: The Captain said you may stay as long as you wish.
Three: You mean as long as I have. I can't forgive you for what you did to us, but I do understand why you did it.
Seven: Naomi Wildman.
Naomi: I thought you might like some company.
Seven: Why?
Naomi: Because of what happened with the drones.
Seven: I see that word travels quickly.
Naomi: It's a small ship. I thought maybe you might want to spend some time with family.


Torres: Torres to Voyager. I could use a little help here.
Chakotay: What's your status?
Torres: I'm approaching your position, but that ion storm blew out my deflector field. I've lost helm control and I'm venting plasma from the port nacelle.
Chakotay: We're modifying a tractor pulse to slow you down.
Torres: Acknowledged.
Chakotay: The arresting fields are in place. You're clear to land.
Janeway: Hold on, B'Elanna. This is going to be bumpy.
Paris: B'Elanna? Are you alive?
Torres: You tell me.
Paris: You've got a mild concussion.
Torres: That's the best thing that's happened to me all day.
Janeway: When I give you an order, I expect you to follow it. I told you to return to Voyager, not chase the probe into the center of an ion storm.
Torres: We only have one multispatial probe. I didn't want to lose it.
Janeway: We only have one B'Elanna Torres. I don't want to lose her, either.
Torres: Understood.
Janeway: Lanna, I'm glad you made it back in one piece,
Torres: Did you just call me Lanna?
Janeway: I suppose I did.
Torres: That's what my mother used to call me.
Janeway: Well then, I'm in good company.
Torres: Come in.
Chakotay: Feeling better?
Torres: I've felt worse.
Chakotay: I found something you might be interested in. It's what my ancestors called a monkey wrench. It was lodged in your port nacelle.
Torres: How did it get there?
Chakotay: Judging by your sensor logs, it looks like you ran into it after your deflector field collapsed, but the big question is, how did it get in this quadrant?
Torres: What do you mean?
Torres: What? It's Klingon!
Chakotay: And it's old. That's about all we know. Looks like the Klingons beat Starfleet to the Delta Quadrant by a few hundred years. You may be holding the most important archeological find in Klingon history.
Torres: Remind me to plant a flag on behalf of the Empire. You know, the simplest explanation is that the Borg assimilated a Bird of Prey somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant and they blew it out an airlock on their way home.
Chakotay: Maybe so. In any case, it makes a nice souvenir.
Torres: Harry, it bled. Ut screamed. There's got to be some explanation.
Kim: Hey, I've got one for you. You hit your head harder than you thought.
Torres: I wasn't hallucinating. Now run a submolecular scan.
Kim: How many more scans are we going to run? There's nothing there. No fluid or vapor residue.
Torres: We may find some irregularities at the atomic level.
Kim: It's a hunk of metal. What you heard may have had nothing to do with this artifact. Maybe the comm. system picked up some stray signal from a pulsar. I don't know.
Torres: A pulsar that speaks Klingon?
Kim: Okay, B'Elanna, there probably is some explanation for what happened. But it's oh three hundred hours. I'm tired, you're tired. Let's just stick this thing in a containment field and deal with it in the morning.
Neelix: Ah! Just the Daughter of the Empire I've been looking for. I wanted to be the first to congratulate you on your discovery of the Klingon artifact.
Torres: Neelix, I ran into it with a shuttle.
Neelix: Some of the greatest discoveries in Klingon history were accidents. When Sarpek the Fearless unearthed the Knife of Kirom he was searching for his lost targ. Isn't that amazing? I've been doing some research.
Torres: Why?
Neelix: Well, I'm planning a celebration. This must be the treasure.
Torres: Neelix, look, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but since I'm the only Klingon on board, there's really no point in throwing a party.
Neelix: Oh, nonsense. This artifact isn't just a testament to Klingon spirit. It's a piece of the Alpha Quadrant. A symbol of Voyager's home. And that's just as worthy of celebration and song as finding some old knife.
Kim: The man's got a point.
Neelix: And besides, I've already replicated five barrels of bloodwine. I'm not going to let them go to waste. Festivities begin at nineteen hundred hours. Oh, er, I almost forgot. As guest of honor, you're going to be expected to say a few words on behalf of your people.
Kim: It sounds like you've got a big day ahead of you. You should probably get some rest.
Torres: All right, all right, let's call it a night.
Kim: Thank you.
Tuvok: Do not underestimate the power of the mind. The artifact was a catalyst for your already active imagination. It served as an unwelcome reminder of your ancestry. The self-loathing you experience when you look in the mirror and see a Klingon.
Torres: Who said anything about self-loathing?
Tuvok: You despise being Klingon. It's no secret. What you experienced in your quarters was a subconscious manifestation of that hatred. The blood in your veins, the voices of your ancestors, all symbols of your Klingon heritage.
Torres: And when the blood disappeared that was, what, me trying to vaporize that part of myself?
Tuvok: Yes, but the essence of who you are, the artifact itself, remained.
Torres: And the moral of the story is?
Tuvok: Quite simple. That despite your efforts to become something else, whether it be Starfleet or Maquis, your Klingon nature continues to assert itself.
Torres: That's an intriguing theory.
Tuvok: Perhaps we should forego your meditation in favor of a different exercise.
Torres: Fine by me.
Torres: This should be interesting.
Tuvok: Feel the weight of the bat'leth in your hands. Describe the first thought that enters your mind.
Torres: It's a clumsy weapon. Overstated, like everything else Klingon.
Tuvok: You can't see the elegance of its design because of your hatred.
Torres: I don't hate Klingons.
Tuvok: It's a warrior's blade, crafted for precision and balance. Observe.
Torres: Is this your idea of therapy?
Tuvok: Listen to yourself whine like a Ferengi.
Torres: PetaQ!
Tuvok: You're not worthy of the blood in your veins. A true Klingon would try to kill me where I stand.
Torres: What the hell has gotten into you?
Tuvok: This exercise is over. You are dismissed, Lieutenant, and take your dishonor with you.
Emh: 'ej HumtaH 'ej DechtaH 'Iw. And the blood was ankle-deep. 'ej Doq SodTah ghoSpa' Sqral bIQtiQ. And the river Skral ran crimson red.
Seven: I fail to see the merit of learning a Klingon drinking song.
Emh: It's not about drinking, Seven. It's about saluting the noble deeds of our ancestors and honoring those who fell in battle. Think, Qapla'. Think, long live the Empire!
Seven: Think again.
Emh: Okay, so I'm overdoing it a bit. But try to get into the spirit of the occasion.
Seven: Very well. 'ej HumtaH 'ej DechtaH 'Iw.
Both: 'ej Doq SodTah ghoSpa' Sqral bIQtiQ 'e' pa' jaj law' mo' jaj puS jaj qeylIS molar MIgh HoHchu'.
Neelix: Gagh, anyone? Sop joq jih yuv gagh drek.
Torres: He said, eat this or he'll force it down the gullet of your corpse.
Neelix: No offense.
Paris: Oh, none taken. So this is replicated, right?
Neelix: Unfortunately.
Paris: And how do you get it to move?
Neelix: I used a kinesthetic agent to give it a little oomph.
Torres: Is it just me, or has everyone gone Klingon-happy?
Paris: Oh, come on, B'Elanna. They're all doing this for you.
Torres: Well then, they don't know me very well, and if you even think of joining in on this embrace your heritage nonsense, I swear, I'll rip out your tongue and wear it as a belt.
Paris: Oh no, there's not a lot of Klingon in you.
Torres: I inherited the forehead and the bad attitude. That's it. She would have loved all this.
Paris: Your mother?
Torres: She was so obsessed with Klingon ritual, myths. It used to drive my father and me crazy. Did I ever tell you that she put me in a Klingon monastery?
Paris: You're kidding.
Torres: It was after their marriage ended. She pulled me out of the Federation school in order to teach me honor and diskipline.
Paris: Out of the plasma cooker, into the fire.
Torres: She prayed to Kahless every day to guide me in the ways of the warrior. I guess he wasn't listening.
Janeway: Ladies and gentlemen. Could I have your attention, please? I hate to interrupt the festivities, but before I turn the floor over to our resident Klingon, I'd like to say a few words. This is a great day for the Klingon Empire. A day when we honor their ancestors, those warriors whose deeds of valor and glory led them to the Delta Quadrant.
Janeway: May they live on in song and story.
Torres: Captain!
Brok'Tan: Legh soh va gre'thor.
Torres: Where am I?
Brok'Tan: Silence The dead ask no questions.
Torres: Computer, end program.
Brok'Tan: Qem nuh meq.
Torres: Let go of me!
Torres: Wait, wait.
Brok'Tan: Uch ghah!
Torres: No, wait.
Brok'Tan: She won't take the mark.
Torres: What the hell is going on?
Brok'Tan: Qus'daq ba'. Qus'daq na ghah.
Torres: Where am I?
Hij'Qa: You should know. You're half Klingon.
Torres: Enlighten me.
Hij'Qa: This is the Barge of the Dead. Our dishonored souls are being taken to Gre'thor.
Torres: Klingon Hell is a myth.
Hij'Qa: That's what I thought. Just a foolish superstition. Imagine my surprise.
Torres: But I was on Voyager with my crew.
Hij'Qa: That was the naj, the dream before dying. When we can't accept that we've died, we create the illusion of life to hold on to.
Torres: He slaughtered my friends.
Hij'Qa: No, he slaughtered the dream. He dragged you from the illusion of life. This is where you belong.
Voices: Hij'qa. Mag hoshonah nes'a Gre'thor. Jih neh. Jih ghaj nug soh neh. Jih qhaj nug soh. Nug soh los. Vav, nuqdaq sho? Nuqdaq' oh puchpa'e'
Torres: What is that?
Hij'Qa: It's the Kos'Karii. They'll try to lure you to them. Don't listen.
Voices: Duj tlvoqtah. Batlh daqawlu'tah. Tugh!
Chakotay: B'Elanna, are you there?
Janeway: Lieutenant, can you hear me?
Paris: Help us find you.
Torres: Tom? Chakotay?
Hij'Qa: It's not your friends.
Hij'Qa: There are things here worse than death.
Brok'Tan: You.
Kortar: Is this the mongrel child you spoke of.
Brok'Tan: Yes. The one whose face would not bear the mark.
Kortar: B'Elanna, daughter of Miral. It's not your time.
Torres: How do you know my name?
Kortar: You've come close to boarding this ship many times. I remember the first. You were a child. Your mother took you to the Sea of Gatan. Your curiosity was as deep as the water.
Torres: I fell in. I almost drowned.
Kortar: When your mother breathed life back into your lungs, she told you about me.
Torres: So you're supposed to be Kortar.
Kortar: Ah. You remember me.
Torres: I remember the myth of Kortar, the first Klingon. He destroyed the gods who created him.
Kortar: And as punishment, I was condemned to ferry the souls of the dishonored to Gre'thor.
Torres: I may have believed in you as a child, but not anymore.
Kortar: If you didn't still believe, you wouldn't be here.
Kortar: Foolish girl.
Kortar: You cannot harm me. I'm already dead.
Torres: What's happening?
Kortar: The soul of another dishonored warrior is being delivered.
Brok'Tan: Kot'mah soh Gre'thor.
Torres: Mother.
Emh: It's all right. You're safe.
Paris: Your shuttle was drifting on the trailing edge of an ion storm. You lost life support. We found you just in time.
Torres: But I got through the storm. I remember crashing into the shuttlebay.
Emh: When we tractored your shuttle back to Voyager, you were in a coma.
Paris: We almost lost you.
Torres: The Klingon artifact.
Paris: Artifact?
Torres: My hand.
Emh: You took quite a beating out there. More than your fair share of cuts and bruises.
Torres: Come in.
Chakotay: How are you feeling?
Torres: Er, a little out of place.
Chakotay: Would you like to talk about it?
Torres: Yes. And no.
Chakotay: Let me know when you decide.
Torres: I don't know how to say this without sounding crazy.
Chakotay: Try.
Torres: Do you believe in an afterlife?
Chakotay: I accept there are things in the universe than can't be scanned with a tricorder. What happened to you out there?
Torres: I think I died. I died, and I was on the Barge of the Dead in the Klingon afterlife.
Chakotay: Klingon mythology has been ingrained in you since you were a child. It's not surprising you experienced some of those images while you were unconscious.
Torres: I saw my mother, Chakotay. If it was real, then she's dead.
Chakotay: B'Elanna, your mother, the Barge of the Dead, those are just symbols. It's your subconscious mind trying to tell you something.
Torres: Tell me what? That my mother is going to hell?
Chakotay: You need time to digest what you experienced. You have to interpret the symbols and search for their meaning.
Torres: What if there is no symbolism to interpret? What if the afterlife is real? I'm an engineer. My whole life I've immersed myself in science and schematics. But what if it's time to start looking beyond that?
Chakotay: My grandfather used to think he could transform himself into a wolf so that he could venture out to explore the spirit realm. It was real to him, as real as what your experience was to you, but that doesn't mean he grew hair all over his body and walked around on all fours.
Torres: My mother has been on my mind a lot lately. We just had a big anniversary. It's been ten years since we talked. But it was so real. I could taste the blood in the air. I could feel the wind. I was seasick from the rocking of the boat.
Paris: Hi.
Torres: Hi.
Paris: What are you reading?
Torres: The paq'batlh. It's a sacred Klingon scroll.
Paris: Find anything?
Torres: You don't want to know.
Paris: Oh, come on. It can't be that bad.
Torres: You want to bet? I found out why my mother is on her way to Gre'thor. It's because I sent her there.
Paris: What do you mean?
Torres: The sins of the child. She's being punished for my dishonor. I turned my back on everything Klingon, and now she has to pay the price.
Paris: B'Elanna, you can't even be sure your mother is dead, much less blame yourself for what happens to her in some afterlife.
Torres: Look at this. The eleventh tome of Klavek. It's a story about Kahless returning from the dead still bearing a wound from the afterlife. A warning that what he experienced wasn't a dream. The same thing happened to me.
Paris: B'Elanna.
Torres: And the only reason Kahless was in the afterlife to begin with was to rescue his brother from the Barge of the Dead and deliver him to Sto-Vo-Kor.
Paris: Okay.
Torres: Don't you see? I have a chance to rescue my mother, if I can accept responsibility for her dishonor before she passes through the gates of Gre'thor. I have to go back.
Paris: Well, wait a minute. What do you mean, go back?
Torres: I can't let her suffer for what I've done. It's the only way.
Paris: B'Elanna, I respect what you believe in, but you're starting to scare me.
Torres: I'm scaring myself.
Torres: It's a controlled procedure. I'll be under constant supervision. The Doctor can simulate the conditions of the ion storm. He's agreed to help me, but only with your permission.
Janeway: I'm still not inclined to grant your request.
Torres: Are you telling me that I can't pursue my spiritual beliefs?
Janeway: B'Elanna, I'm not going to let you turn this into a debate about freedom of worship.
Torres: But that's what it is.
Janeway: There's a limit to how far I'll let religious practices go aboard this ship. If your belief system required you to sacrifice a child to your gods, I wouldn't allow that either.
Torres: That's an absurd example.
Janeway: You want to simulate a near death experience so you can revisit the Barge of Death, and you're telling me what's absurd? Bottom line, B'Elanna. I'm not going to let you risk your life for this.
Torres: Captain, please.
Janeway: Request denied.
Torres: What I do with my own life is one thing, but to know that I have condemned my mother. That because of what I've done, she's
Janeway: I appreciate what you're trying to say, B'Elanna, but whatever you experienced, it wasn't real.
Torres: It doesn't matter if you think it was real. It was real to me. Whatever it was, it changed me. I can't ignore that. I need to confront what's happened.
Janeway: I'm sorry.
Torres: You know, you're just like her.
Janeway: Lieutenant?
Torres: My mother. You're as dedicated to Starfleet principles as she was to Klingon honor. I know that we haven't always seen eye to eye, but despite our differences you helped me become a good officer. And I'd like to think that you're proud of me for it.
Janeway: I am.
Torres: My mother never had the chance to be proud of me. I'd like her to know me the way you do. I don't want her to die thinking of me as a disgrace. You have to let me do this.
Paris: I can't believe the captain is allowing this. One minute you're in a coma, the next you're a born-again Klingon? I just don't get it.
Torres: I'm not sure I get it, either. I just know this is something I have to do.
Paris: There must be an easier way for you to explore your spirituality. Go to church, or something?
Torres: It wouldn't be enough.
Paris: Look, I'll read the scrolls, I'll learn Klingon. We'll figure this out together.
Torres: Next time.
Paris: I just hope there is a next time.
Torres: There will be.
Janeway: Report.
Emh: I've examined the sensor logs from the shuttle mission. I should be able to recreate the exact conditions that triggered her near-death experience.
Janeway: Good. B'Elanna?
Torres: I'm ready.
Paris: Be careful.
Janeway: You'll have an hour to do whatever it is you need to do. At the first sign of trouble, we're bringing you out. Understood?
Emh: Computer, erect an isolation field around the surgical bay. Decrease oxygen concentration within the force field by twenty seven percent. Begin ionizing the enclosed atmosphere to five thousand particles per cubic meter. She's unconscious.
Paris: Neural activity is decreasing to eighty seven percent. Sixty two percent. Synaptic function is failing.
Emh: Compensating.
Paris: Neural activity is nominal.
Janeway: She's not breathing.
Emh: She's still alive. Her lungs are taking in just enough oxygen to keep her brain from necrotising.
Janeway: Qapla', B'Elanna.
Brok'Tan: Sus'a g gre'thor qay.
Torres: Mother.
Miral: Stay away. You are an illusion. You're a Kos'Karii trying to lure me away
Torres: Mother, it's me. It's me.
Miral: B'Elanna? Then you died as well?
Torres: I've come to lift your dishonor.
Miral: But you don't believe in Sto-Vo-Kor.
Torres: A lot's happened since the last time I saw you. I've changed.
Miral: Not enough. It was you who brought this damnation upon me.
Torres: If you hadn't tried to force me to become a warrior
Miral: I tried to guide you in the ways of a Klingon.
Torres: You tried a little too hard.
Miral: If you had listened to me when you were younger, we wouldn't be on the Barge of the Dead. You were always running away.
Torres: You drove me away. The same way you drove away my father.
Miral: He abandoned us.
Torres: You pushed him to the point where he couldn't bear to be around anything Klingon, including me.
Miral: I wanted to give you honor. And if you had understood that, I would be not be on my way to Gre'thor.
Torres: We're on the Barge of the Dead and we're still having the same argument we were having ten years ago. Look, if I have dishonored you, I am truly sorry.
Miral: Are you? You have too much anger in your heart to be sorry.
Torres: Oh, we don't have time for this if we're going to perform the transference.
Miral: Is that how you intend to lift my dishonor? By taking my place?
Torres: Oh, don't worry. I have no intention of being on this barge when it gets to Gre'thor. We've got just enough time to perform the ritual before my crew resuscitates me.
Miral: Oh. I should have known you'd choose the easy way.
Torres: What are you talking about? Do you know the risks I've taken to save you?
Miral: You still understand nothing about being a Klingon. I would rather face damnation with what little honor you have left me, than cheat my way into Sto-Vo-Kor.
Brok'Tan: There she is. Bring them.
Kortar: The mongrel child has returned.
Torres: I'm here to take my mother's place.
Miral: B'Elanna!
Kortar: You wish to claim her dishonor as your own?
Torres: Yes.
Kortar: You're willing to die for her?
Torres: Yes. Release her to Sto-Vo-Kor.
Miral: No!
Kortar: Keep her quiet!
Brok'Tan: Silence.
Kortar: It's not your decision. She has the right to reclaim your honor. Once we've reached Gre'thor and you are within its gates, I will release her.
Torres: No. Now.
Kortar: You're very impatient. Time must be slipping away in the living world. You're concerned that your friends will revive you before you complete your deception. Did you really think that I could be fooled so easily?
Torres: I will die for her. No tricks, no games. I will take her place honorably, like a Klingon.
Kortar: If you choose this path, your friends will not be able to save you.
Miral: No! I forbid it!
Torres: I understand.
Kortar: Your dishonor has been lifted. Sto-Vo-Kor awaits you.
Miral: I will not abandon my daughter.
Kortar: She has made the choice. Go!
Kortar: Daughter of Miral, embrace your fate.
Paris: Her neural patterns are breaking down.
Emh: I'm initiating emergency resuscitation. Vent the ionized particles. Twenty milligrams cordrazine, now.
Janeway: I'm deactivating the forcefield.
Emh: Welcome to Gre'thor.
Torres: This isn't Gre'thor.
Emh: Oh, I assure you it is. You've taken your mark.
Torres: What is this, some kind of a joke?
Neelix: This is no laughing matter.
Emh: You've met Mister Neelix, our ambassador to the recently deceased. Questions, comments, suggestions, he's your man.
Neelix: If you'll follow me.
Emh: By the way, I'll be performing an aria from Berlioz's Faust tomorrow night in Holodeck two. Feel free to stop by.
Neelix: Fifteen decks. Computers augmented with bioneural circuitry. Top cruising speed, warp nine point nine seven five. Not that you'll be going anywhere.
Torres: No Fek'lhr? No Cavern of Despair?
Neelix: Don't need them.
Torres: I don't consider Voyager hell.
Neelix: Are you sure? Have you ever been truly happy here? If you thought fifty years aboard this ship would be difficult, try eternity.
All: 'ej HumtaH 'ej DechtaH 'Iw 'ej Doq SodTah ghoSpa' Sqral bIQtiQ 'e' pa' jaj law' mo' jaj puS.
Janeway: This is a great day for B'Elanna Torres. A day when we pay tribute to her dishonor.
Emh: She's not responding to the cordrazine.
Janeway: Neural activity at forty eight percent, thirty seven.
Paris: We're losing her.
Emh: We have to stabilize her synaptic functions. I'm attempting a direct neural resequencing.
Janeway: B'Elanna's misdeeds have led her to Gre'thor. She comes with no valor, no glory, nothing to celebrate in song and story.
Neelix: You really have no one to blame but yourself.
Kim: You've kept us all at arm's length. Even Tom, who you claim to love.
Paris: Hear, hear.
Seven: I tried to assist you in making Engineering more efficient, but you resisted. You're stubborn.
Emh: She inherited that from her mother, along with the forehead.
Chakotay: What do you think of the afterlife so far?
Torres: It's not exactly what I had in mind.
Chakotay: Are you interpreting all the symbols? Searching your subconscious for their meaning?
Tuvok: Lieutenant Torres. Defend yourself.
Torres: Captain?
Torres: What are you still doing here? I released you to Sto-Vo-Kor.
Miral: You can't free me until you free yourself.
Torres: I don't understand.
Miral: You never did.
Torres: I did everything that the ritual told me to do. I came back for you.
Miral: Forget the ritual. It's meaningless.
Torres: Meaningless? I died for you.
Miral: No, you didn't. It's not your time. You still don't understand this journey.
Torres: Then tell me.
Miral: Request denied.
Torres: What do you want?
Miral: Who are you asking?
Torres: You. Kahless. The tooth fairy. Anybody who will tell me what I am supposed to do.
Miral: You are the only one who can answer that question. Choose to live, B'Elanna.
Paris: Neural activity's at twenty three percent.
Emh: Initiate cortical stimulation. Pulses at fifty millijoules.
Paris: No effect.
Emh: Increase to seventy millijoules.
Janeway: Come on, B'Elanna.
Tuvok: Defend yourself.
Torres: You want me to fight? You want me to be a good little Klingon? Is that it?
Janeway: You've let your anger consume you. Now it's consuming us.
Seven: She's condemned us all.
Emh: Misery loves company.
Torres: Get away from me.
Kim: Or what? You'll kill us where we stand?
Torres: Tell me what you want me to be. A good Starfleet officer? A good Maquis? Lover? Daughter? Just tell me what you want from me.
Miral: We don't want anything from you, B'Elanna.
Janeway: We only want you.
Neelix: We're not your enemies.
Paris: Defend yourself.
Torres: I don't know how. I'm so tired of fighting.
Janeway: We know.
Miral: You've taken the first step of your journey.
Torres: And what about you?
Miral: We will see each other again.
Torres: In Sto-Vo-Kor.
Miral: Yes, in Sto-Vo-Kor. Or, maybe, when you get home.
Torres: Mother? Oh god, I'm alive.
Janeway: Welcome back.


Emh: Somewhere, in that totality known as the universe, is a galaxy called the Milky Way. Tucked into the corner of that galaxy is a planet named Earth. On that planet is a city called Mantua. Go straight ahead past the fountain, turn right, then left, then right again. You'll find yourself walking along the water, listening, as a man sings of his beloved's unfaithful heart. And even the fish begin to weep. Quando, la donna e mobile. La donne e mobile, qual piuma al a vento, muta d'accento, e di pensiero. Sempre un'amabile, leggiadro viso, in pianto o in riso, e mensognero. La donna e mobile, qual pium al vento, muta d'accento, e di pensier. E di pensier.
Paris: Tuvok?
Emh: E di pensier!
Paris: Tuvok!
Janeway: Janeway to Security. Get a team to the mess hall right away.
Emh: Stand back. He's been seized by the pon farr. A neurochemical imbalance is driving him to mate. We won't be able to reason with him. Tuvok, I understand. You are a Vulcan man. You have just gone without for seven years about. Paris, please find a way to load a hypospray. I will give you the sign. Just aim for his behind. Hormones are raging, Synapses blazing, It's all so veeee (Paris gets an emergency medkit and loads the hypospray, then throws it to the EMH whilst he is holding the note.)
Emh: Eeery illogical. Illogical. Illogical.
All: Bravo! Bravo!
Torres: Doctor?
Torres: Doctor? Hello?
Torres: Maybe I'd better run a diagnostic on your hearing subroutines.
Emh: My hearing's fine. I was just letting my mind wander, that's all.
Torres: If you're not working on anything, you should deactivate yourself. Save us the energy.
Emh: Wait a second, I thought I was scheduled to go on the away team.
Torres: Well, the planet looks safe on the long range sensors. Any medical problems, and we can use the transporter. But, take a look at those scans and see if there's anything we might have missed.
Emh: Lieutenant, I wanted to go on the away team. There's a canyon on that planet I'd like to investigate.
Torres: I've already handed out assignments. Next time. If you'd like, I'll snap a few images for you.
Emh: Don't bother.
Torres: Suit yourself.
Emh: I'll just use my imagination.
Chakotay: Where did that come from?
Janeway: Good question. It didn't show up on sensors until a few minutes ago.
Chakotay: T class nebula. A thousand kilometer diameter. Hydrogen, helium, argon.
Janeway: Nothing too dramatic.
Chakotay: If you want some drama, take a look at this.
Janeway: To Captain Kathryn Janeway, Starship Voyager. From Emergency Medical Hologram, Starship Voyager. Topic, status of Emergency Medical Hologram, Starship Voyager.
Chakotay: He's filing a formal grievance.
Janeway: Regarding?
Chakotay: His treatment by the crew. There's also a paragraph about his future on Voyager, and a proposal for his advancement.
Janeway: Failure to acknowledge sentience. Rude behavior. What's this? A request to be made Captain in the event of a catastrophic emergency? He's serious.
Chakotay: Dead serious and he wants a formal response, for the record.
Tuvok: Protocol allows for Commander Chakotay or myself to address his demands, if the captain would prefer.
Janeway: No, I'll take care of it. I don't want anybody to be uncomfortable on this ship. I guess we should all try to be more considerate of his feelings.
Paris: Captain, he does it to himself. He's Chief Medical Officer. Is it our fault that's not enough for him?
Janeway: Resume course toward the planet. Chakotay, you have the bridge. I've got a formal response to draft.
Overlooker: What category did I assign that vessel?
Phlox: Unacceptable risk.
Overlooker: Correct. And what was my justification for that decision?
Phlox: The ship appears in none of our databases. Initial attempts to scan the interior failed.
Overlooker: Then why are you wasting our resources?
Phlox: I think I can penetrate the hull, using a microtunneling sensor.
Overlooker: And observe the interior one molecule at a time? There are other potential targets that must be surveyed.
Phlox: If I could tap into a data transfer conduit, I'd be able to reach their main computer core. That would tell me all we need to know about their tactical systems, in theory.
Overlooker: We could be detected. They may not like being spied upon.
Phlox: I think I've been very careful avoiding it. I'll take every precaution, I promise.
Overlooker: Unacceptable risk.
Phlox: I've already transmitted my proposal to the Hierarchy. They should be responding momentarily.
Overlooker: Do you have something you'd like to say?
Devro: No.
Overlooker: The Hierarchy cannot be bothered with every ill-conceived notion that you
Phlox: They've approved. I'd better get started.
Devro: You're too confrontational. He'll report you.
Phlox: Huh. Acceptable risk.
Torres: The layer of antonium runs right along the edge of the canyon.
Seven: My scans show geological instability within one hundred meters of the target location.
Paris: I could put the Flyer down just outside of that.
Neelix: I don't know, Tom. That might be a little too far.
Paris: What's the matter, Neelix? Afraid of a little exercise?
Torres: I think we could handle a hundred meter stroll.
Paris: I have to agree.
Neelix: Maybe getting there. It's coming back I'm worried about. We'll be loaded down with ore. If the ground is unstable
Seven: I suggest limiting the team members to twenty kilograms. Preliminary scans indicate the crust is dense enough to support that weight.
Paris: You might try carrying a transport enhancer to the site.
Neelix: That's not a bad idea. We'll beam the ore back to the Delta Flyer and we won't have to carry anything.
Torres: You know, this mission is starting to look a little more dangerous than we thought. Maybe we do need the Doctor to come along. If one of us fell through the crust there could be injuries.
Seven: I require his assistance in Astrometrics.
Torres: What for?
Seven: That's none of your business.
Torres: I think it is.
Janeway: Oh!
Neelix: What's wrong, Captain?
Janeway: It's nothing, really. An old Academy injury. It flares up every now and then. I've learned to live with it, but maybe you should stay here and have a look. Right there.
Torres: Get away from him.
Janeway: You are dismissed. Doctor? Doctor?
Emh: Yes, Captain?
Janeway: Let's talk about these demands of yours.
Janeway: I've given you a great deal of freedom on this ship.
Emh: I'm not disputing that.
Janeway: But you're not satisfied, either.
Emh: I should be allowed to participate and advance according to my abilities, like any other member of this crew.
Janeway: You should also know your limits.
Emh: My program can be expanded indefinitely. I don't have limits.
Janeway: Maybe, but we all have primary responsibilities. Yours is Sickbay.
Emh: I'm a computer program. Multiple tasking is second nature to me.
Janeway: This proposal of yours to be made a, what? What did you call it?
Emh: ECH. Emergency Command Hologram.
Janeway: In principle, it's an interesting idea. A backup captain in case I'm incapacitated and the command structure breaks down. But expanding your program would take months of work.
Emh: The lives of the crew may depend on it someday.
Janeway: I'm afraid the answer's no, Doctor. However, as part of my formal response I have recommended that Starfleet assign a team of Engineers to consider your proposal. When we get back to the Alpha Quadrant, I'll pass it along.
Emh: Thank you, Captain.
Janeway: Thank you, Doctor.
Janeway: Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce the Emergency Command Hologram.
Phlox: I've tried to access their internal sensors, but I couldn't get past the security encryption. So, I found something even better. A holographic crewman. I've tapped into his cognitive subroutines. We can now monitor everything he's experiencing.
Devro: It's like having an agent on board.
Janeway: To the ECH.
Emh: Captain, this is such an honor, but if you don't mind my saying, hardly a surprise.
Phlox: Allow me to introduce the Doctor. He's a computer program, a sentient piece of holographic technology. And he is Voyager's medical officer.
Overlooker: Voyager?
Phlox: That's the name of the ship. I've only been observing the Doctor for a matter of hours, and I've already learned more about this vessel than I did in three days of sensor sweeps.
Overlooker: Elaborate.
Phlox: The reason Voyager is not in our database is because they are not from this quadrant. They're lost. Alone.
Overlooker: No backup vessel?
Phlox: Uh huh.
Overlooker: No one to contact for help?
Phlox: Precisely. Another few hours of observation and I will know all we need to know about them. Defenses, weapons, crew complement, everything.
Overlooker: From monitoring one individual? Unlikely.
Phlox: Actually, it is very likely. The social structure on Voyager is, is much different than ours.
Overlooker: How so?
Phlox: This is my observation post. I have a single function. But the Doctor does much more than just practice medicine. He has access to the entire ship, and he seems to be an expert on everything. In fact, the Captain just gave him authorisation to command the bridge! It was a very exciting moment.
Overlooker: Why aren't you monitoring him now?
Phlox: The link drops out intermittently, but it should be re-established in a few minutes.
Overlooker: Maintain your surveillance.
Emh: This'll take care of any potential allergens in the planet's atmosphere. I'll monitor your medical status from the bridge, but I don't anticipate any problems. Since I'm not going, I wonder if you'd mind snapping a few holo-images for me while you're down there.
Neelix: Gladly.
Emh: Tell me something, Mister Neelix. Do you daydream?
Neelix: On Talaxia, we have a saying. The dream dreams the dreamer.
Emh: Care to translate?
Neelix: We like to think that fantasies and daydreams come from someplace else. Another land. They slip into our minds and whisper about things we never imagined.
Emh: A strange notion.
Neelix: Do you daydream, Doctor?
Emh: Of course not. I'm a computer program. I prefer wide shots, Mister Neelix. If you're feeling creative, throw in a little ultraviolet.
Neelix: Will do.
Kim: Voyager to Delta Flyer. Report.
Paris: We're approaching the canyon. Whew! What a view!
Emh: I'm sure it is.
Janeway: Put us in a synchronous orbit above their landing coordinates.
Paris: Voyager, mayday!
Janeway: What's wrong?
Paris: We've been hit. I'm taking us into the canyon.
Janeway: Harry?
Kim: I don't know what happened to them.
Tuvok: I am picking up a vessel, Captain. It's Borg.
Janeway: Red alert. On screen. Battle stations.
Tuvok: Captain. You must relieve me of duty at once.
Seven: An assimilation virus has penetrated our defenses.
Chakotay: We're becoming drones.
Janeway: Hard to starboard. Reinforce the shields.
Kim: Incoming fire.
Kim: Doctor.
Emh: Computer, activate the ECH.
Computer: Acknowledged.
Computer: Transferring all systems to your command. You have the bridge.
Emh: Indeed. Shields to maximum. Photon torpedoes, full volley. Fire. Computer, report.
Computer: Enemy shields are intact.
Borg: We are the Borg.
Emh: I know very well who you are. Stand down your weapons.
Borg: State your designation.
Emh: Emergency Command Hologram, at your service.
Borg: Designation unknown.
Emh: Not for long.
Seven: Doctor.
Computer: Warning, primary shields are failing.
Emh: This is the last time I'm going to ask you. Stand down your weapons. Turn back while you still can.
Borg: You will be assimilated.
Emh: Over my dead program. Computer, activate the photonic cannon.
Computer: The photonic cannon is online.
Emh: Fire.
Kim: Doctor, can you confirm? The readings, Doctor.
Emh: Um, er, er. Readings. Er, confirm, of course. Er, the away team's physiologies are within acceptable parameters. All life signs stable.
Kim: You're okay to proceed, Tom.
Paris: Understood. We'll contact you again when we reach the site.
Phlox: Voyager will not be an easy target. It is armed with something called a photonic cannon. I watched them destroy a Borg sphere with a single volley.
Overlooker: There are no reports of Borg in this region.
Phlox: I saw it with my own eyes.
Overlooker: Did you check for debris?
Phlox: The ship was annihilated. There was nothing left for the sensors to pick up.
Overlooker: Continue.
Phlox: Their captain was disabled in the attack. The hologram is now in command. He's an impressive individual. A physician, an engineer, a warrior. And very attractive to the females. We must at all cost try to avoid a direct confrontation with him. I recommend a type three stealth assault.
Overlooker: The Hierarchy approves. Prepare for a stealth assault, type three. Scan for Borg. We don't want any last minute surprises. Or mistakes.
Chakotay: Doctor? Can I have a word with you?
Emh: I know I let my attention drift a little on the bridge, but I assure you
Chakotay: Are you kidding? That was incredible. I just wanted to congratulate you.
Emh: For what, exactly?
Chakotay: The Borg will have to think twice about attacking Voyager again. Nice work.
Emh: Computer, locate Commander Chakotay.
Computer: Commander Chakotay is in his quarters.
Chakotay: Something wrong?
Torres: What were you trying to do?
Emh: I've been experimenting with introducing a new function into my program. Cognitive projections. Daydreaming. I wanted to be able to daydream.
Seven: An inefficient activity.
Kim: We all do it now and then, Seven. Why not the Doctor?
Emh: My thought exactly.
Torres: So what's the problem?
Emh: The algorithms are malfunctioning. I'm starting to daydream whether I want to or not.
Torres: They say a doctor who operates on himself has a petaQ for a patient.
Seven: I can help him.
Torres: I'm sure you can.
Seven: The Doctor and I are going to Sickbay.
Torres: Any excuse to be alone with him, eh, Seven?
Seven: Assimilation is an unpleasant fate.
Torres: Is that a threat?
Kim: This isn't possible. The warp containment field is failing.
Computer: Warp core breach in thirty seconds.
Torres: Try stabilizing the antimatter flow.
Seven: The control linkage is down.
Computer: Warning. Warp core breach a lot sooner than you think.
Torres: We've got to get someone inside the warp core. Try to eject it manually.
Seven: No one could survive the current level of plasma radiation.
Both: The Doctor.
Emh: This isn't real, is it?
Kim: Doc, you're the only one who can help us!
Computer: Warning. Last chance to be a hero, Doctor. Get going.
Kim: Here's the problem. The new algorithms weren't isolated properly. They've branched into his perceptual subroutines. Doc, why don't we take a closer look at the matrix and. What are you doing?
Emh: I have to eject the core.
Kim: What?
Seven: Deactivate his program.
Torres: No, it will damage his matrix.
Emh: Don't try to stop me.
Kim: Let's take him to Sickbay.
Emh: I have to. I have to save the ship. I have to save the ship. I have to save the ship!
Emh: You look lovely tonight, Seven. Where shall we go? That sounds wonderful.
Torres: The new algorithms have completely taken over his program.
Emh: Ambassador!
Janeway: So now he's daydreaming constantly?
Emh: It's a photonic cannon. I designed it myself.
Torres: He seems to be randomly jumping from one to the next.
Emh: Pardon me, Miss.
Torres: I routed his subroutines to Holodeck one so Harry and Seven could monitor his fantasies.
Janeway: Do you think that's appropriate? They're his fantasies, and I promised him we'd show a little more consideration.
Torres: It'll give us a better idea of what's going on, help us fix him.
Emh: Mister Neelix, how thoughtful. You baked me a cake. This won't get you out of your check-up.
Kim: Kim to Sickbay.
Janeway: Go ahead, Harry.
Kim: You might want to have a look at this.
Janeway: We're on our way.
Emh: Keep still, please. HOLO-
Seven: Anything you say, Doctor.
Janeway: He does the hands very well.
Seven: Apparently, he's had a great deal of practice. Look at these.
Janeway: I see.
Emh: Computer. Activate the Emergency Command Hologram.
Kim: This is the part I like.
Janeway: Nice touch.
Emh: Bring the photonic cannon online.
Janeway: Photonic cannon?
Kim: A weapon of mass destruction. Invented by the Doctor, of course.
Janeway: Of course.
Seven: In many of his fantasies he takes command and saves the ship.
Janeway: I see.
Kim: Which means that particular algorithm is more easily accessible than the others.
Torres: So, if we can isolate it, we might be able to stabilize his program.
Torres: Why do you torment me like this?
Emh: That was never my intention. HOLO-
Torres: It wasn't?
Emh: I want you to be happy, B'Elanna. HOLO-
Torres: Without you?
Torres: What?
Janeway: Shush.
Emh: I'll always be fond of you. That will never change. HOLO-
Torres: You can't just leave me. I couldn't bear to be alone.
Emh: Aren't you forgetting someone? He needs you, B'Elanna. Now more than ever. HOLO-
Torres: Forget him. He's not half the man you are.
Torres: I've seen enough of this.
Kim: All right, let's go back to Sickbay and try to isolate that algorithm.
Janeway: Congratulations.
Emh: Thank you for this opportunity, Captain. All I ever wanted was to live up to my full potential, to hone all my skills, expand my abilities, to help the people I love.
Overlooker: What's the status?
Phlox: I lost the signal again. I don't know what happened.
Overlooker: Two assault vessels are on course to join us. Accurate information is essential.
Phlox: The more I learn about Voyager, the more I wonder if it's worth the trouble.
Overlooker: Clarify.
Phlox: Launching an attack against such a heavily armed vessel carries a great risk, and for what? A little antimatter and some dilithium.
Overlooker: Your survey indicated large quantities of both. We've already committed substantial resources to mounting this assault. Were you mistaken?
Phlox: No, not at all. I'm just sounding a note of caution.
Overlooker: If our boarding party doesn't find Voyager exactly as you've described it, the Hierarchy will be informed.
Phlox: I understand. There has been no mistake.
Overlooker: Then we'll proceed.
Phlox: I've made a terrible mistake.
Devro: How terrible?
Phlox: The Doctor was appearing in a different location every few seconds. It didn't seem possible, so I investigated a little further and I haven't been monitoring his perceptions, I've been watching his dreams, or his, his imaginings. I'm not sure which. But none of this is real. What am I going to do?
Janeway: I came to check on your patient.
Emh: He's doing just fine, Captain. It took Lieutenant Torres half the night to stabilize my matrix, but I haven't had a single flight of fancy since. I apologize for altering my program without permission.
Janeway: At least there wasn't any permanent damage.
Emh: I'm afraid there was. I've been exposed, humiliated. Turned inside out for all the world to see. If I've lost your respect
Janeway: That will never happen. Certainly not because we've seen a few random fantasies. We all daydream, Doctor. It helps us imagine other possibilities in life. Just hold off until we've figured out a way for you to do it without damaging yourself, all right?
Janeway: Come in.
Chakotay: Ship's status report. Federation law? Thinking about a career change?
Janeway: In a way. Not for me, though. I've been going over the legal precedents for granting command positions to holograms. There aren't any.
Chakotay: Captain, this ship needs its Doctor. He should focus on what he was programmed for. Medical care.
Janeway: I think we've underestimated him because of our own human limitations. His full potential's unknown, Chakotay.
Chakotay: Would you be comfortable handing over your ship to a computer program?
Janeway: Well, I don't know if I'd take it that far.
Chakotay: You might have to. He probably won't settle for less.
Emh: Oh, no.
Neelix: Allow me to shake your hand. Congratulations.
Phlox: Doctor, may I please have a word with you?.
Emh: I don't recall dreaming you up.
Phlox: You didn't. I'm transmitting a simulation of myself into your program. But I am real.
Emh: Doctor to the bridge. I'm daydreaming again. Somebody deactivate me.
Phlox: Voyager is about to be attacked.
Emh: Of course it is, unless the valiant Doctor swings into action, right?
Phlox: Yes, yes, precisely.
Emh: A common theme in all my fantasies.
Phlox: I reactivated your cognitive algorithms. I put you back into this fiction.
Seven: I'm ready to pose again tonight.
Emh: Here.
Emh: Why?
Phlox: It was the only way for me to communicate with you.
Emh: I'm listening.
Phlox: I'm a long range observer on an assault class vessel. I scan passing ships for technology and raw materials. When I find an acceptable target, we raid it.
Emh: You've been spying on us.
Phlox: More to the point, on you. For several days I've been using a long range tunneling sensor to tap into your program. You were supposed to be our eyes and ears on Voyager. Instead, I got this.
Emh: My daydreams? You tapped into my daydreams? That's why my algorithms have been destabilizing.
Phlox: My fault. I'm sorry.
Emh: Tell me about this attack.
Phlox: My ship is less than an hour away. I can help you avoid a confrontation but you must do exactly what I say.
Emh: Why should you want to help us?
Phlox: You don't understand. The Hierarchy does not tolerate mistakes or misinformation. If they learn of my error, I'll lose my livelihood.
Emh: Well, that's what you get for being a Peeping Tom.
Phlox: But I also care about what happens to you. I feel like I've got to know you over the past few days.
Emh: You've been spying on my fantasies, not me. You don't know me at all.
Phlox: But I do. I know how your mind works, what your hopes are. You created all these possibilities. My species, we're very different. Our thinking is confined but, I can't help but admire you. I don't want you to be harmed.
Emh: Then I suppose we should swing into action.
Emh: Captain, we're about to be attacked. Alien vessels are approaching.
Paris: There's nothing on the sensors, Doc.
Emh: The vessels are cloaked.
Chakotay: How do you know this?
Emh: One of the aliens contacted me.
Tuvok: I've detected no transmissions.
Emh: He spoke to me in a daydream.
Janeway: I don't want to hear it. However, I would like to know why you've disobeyed my direct order.
Emh: I can prove it to you. The alien told me how to reconfigure our sensors to compensate for their cloaking field.
Kim: He's right. I'm picking up three ships out there. Distance six hundred million kilometers, headed right for us.
Janeway: On screen. Maximum magnification.
Emh: The alien won't help us unless we help him.
Paris: What if this is all part of their attack? A ruse?
Chakotay: He's already helped us compensate for their cloak. I'm inclined to believe him.
Janeway: So am I, but I'd just as soon set a course away from here at maximum warp.
Emh: That will only delay a confrontation. They have vessels hidden throughout the entire sector.
Janeway: Did your friend have a plan?
Emh: He said they're running what's called a type three stealth assault. They won't decloak until they're right on top of us, at which point they'll fire a warning shot across our bow. Then come the demands for supplies and technology. If we don't comply, they'll destroy us. Fortunately, the alien promised to transmit the resonance frequencies of their phasers.
Tuvok: And in return?
Emh: In return. He mistakenly informed his superiors that I was in command of Voyager. To keep himself from being demoted, he wants us to maintain that fiction. When they open the channel, I have to be sitting in the Captain's chair. I'm sorry, Captain, but he insisted.
Janeway: Well, I guess it's time to turn fantasy into reality.
Emh: I'm in over my head. What if I fail?
Kim: You sound like I did when the Captain put me in command of the night shift. That chair looked so big I thought I'd sink so far into it that nobody would be able to see me.
Emh: But you had your Academy training to fall back on.
Kim: Yeah, well, sounds like you've had plenty of practice.
Emh: That wasn't real.
Kim: Listen, Doc. The whole reason you wanted to be able to daydream was to test out possibilities, right? Consider this a field test.
Overlooker: Why isn't there any hull damage from the Borg attack?
Phlox: They repaired it.
Overlooker: So quickly? Hmm. Prepare for type four assault.
Phlox: Type four? That would cause a huge drain on our energy core. A waste of resources. Do you really think that's necessary?
Overlooker: What I think doesn't matter. Your long range surveillance indicated an attack by Borg. On closer inspection, that appears to be doubtful. Your report on this vessel could be mistaken. I think caution is in order. The Hierarchy agrees. Proceed to type four.
Paris: Captain on the bridge.
Chakotay: It won't bite.
Paris: What I wouldn't give right now for a whoopee cushion.
Kim: A what?
Paris: Ancient technology.
Chakotay: Captain, we're ready to proceed.
Janeway: Acknowledged, Commander.
Seven: The internal comm. link is active. No one will be able to hear you but the Doctor.
Janeway: Doctor, are
Janeway: You ready?
Emh: No, but do I have a choice?
Janeway: I'll be with you every step of the way. Just remember, I'm still the captain.
Emh: Understood.
Tuvok: I'm receiving a transmission on a secure channel. Audio only.
Chakotay: Must be the Doctor's friend. Let's hear what he has to say. Doctor?
Emh: Hello? Voyager here. It's me.
Phlox: Doctor, something terrible has happened. They've ordered a type
Phlox: Four assault. Our phaser frequencies will be rotated
Phlox: Continuously. I won't be able to help you.
Chakotay: Evasive maneuvers.
Tuvok: Three vessels are decloaking off the port bow.
Paris: That didn't feel like a warning shot.
Tuvok: Direct hit. Shields are holding.
Kim: They're hailing us.
Chakotay: This is it, Doctor. On screen.
Phlox: See? There he is. Be careful, he, he's dangerous.
Overlooker: The Hierarchy controls this region of space.
Overlooker: Your ship has supplies and technology that we require.
Janeway: Tell him we'll defend ourselves.
Janeway: They won't get what they're after.
Emh: We'll defend ourselves. They won't get what they're after.
Overlooker: Huh?
Emh: I mean you won't get what you're after. Not in a million years. Not if I have anything to say about it.
Janeway: Don't improvise, Doctor.
Emh: Sorry.
Overlooker: An exchange of fire would damage both of our ships, But we have support nearby. You are alone. Take your weapons offline and prepare to be boa
Tuvok: Excuse the interruption, Commander. I have found a potential weakness in their shields, but I'll need time to reconfigure our phasers.
Chakotay: Keep him occupied, Doctor. On screen.
Overlooker: This is my final warning.
Emh: Don't rush me.
Overlooker: Take your weapons offline immediately. I won't ask again.
Emh: You appear to be suffering from a physio-emotive disorder. You're impatient, quick to anger. Do you have any idea what that does to your vascular pressure? You may want to see a physician.
Tuvok: Firing phasers.
Kim: Direct hit.
Emh: Ha! How do you like that, huh? A taste of your own medicine.
Janeway: Tone it down, Doctor.
Emh: Sorry.
Tuvok: Our phasers are offline.
Overlooker: Prepare to be boarded.
Janeway: It's time to negotiate, Doctor. Tell
Emh: Tuvok!
Emh: Activate the photonic cannon. Tuvok, that was an order!
Tuvok: Activating the photonic cannon, sir.
Emh: I'd rather not give the order to fire.
Overlooker: My sensors are showing no activation sequence.
Emh: Of course not. The photonic cannon is impervious to sensors.
Phlox: The Borg couldn't detect it either. That's why they were destroyed.
Emh: The Borg
Emh: The Hierarchy, it's all the same to me. Just another bully who didn't know when to back off.
Phlox: We'll be vaporized!
Overlooker: The Hierarchy suggests retreat.
Kim: They're moving away at maximum impulse.
Chakotay: Go ahead, Doctor. You've earned it.
Seven: Seven of Nine to the Doctor.
Emh: Go ahead.
Seven: I require your assistance in the mess hall.
Emh: I'll be right there.
All: Surprise!
Kim: Don't worry Doc, you're not dreaming.
Emh: Captain?
Janeway: For your imaginative defense of this ship and her crew, I'm awarding you the Starfleet Medal of Commendation. Congratulations.
Emh: Thank you.
Janeway: I've also reconsidered your request. I'm going to authorize a research project to explore your command abilities. You're a natural.
Seven: Congratulations, Doctor. That was a Platonic gesture. Don't expect me to pose for you.
Emh: Noted.