All language subtitles for StarTrek.TNG-s02e17.Samaritan.Snare

Captain's Log, Stardate 42779.1.

We are en route
to the Epsilon lX sector

for an astronomical survey
of a new pulsar cluster.

In the meantime, Ensign Crusher

will be diverting to Starbase
515 for Starfleet exams.

This just came in for you
from Starfleet.

Testing parameters?

Do not be apprehensive, Wes.

I found the Academy examinations
quite elementary.

You would.

Your earlier test results
were good enough

to get you Academy credit

for your work here.

I don't think you have
anything to worry about.

Those Academy cadets
can be extremely competitive.

But you have the practical
experience, Wes.

Commander Riker is correct.

While the information imparted
to cadets at the Academy

is unquestionably vital

for prospective
Starfleet officers

it, nonetheless, requires
a significant period

of supplementary
systems training

and situational disciplines.

Didn't I just say that?

Yes, sir

but not quite as perspicuously.

I will not have you
telling me what course to set.

As Chief Medical Officer,
I am ordering you to report

to Starbase 515 immediately.

Oh, please, I feel fine.

The truth is you've ignored this
far too long.

This ship has a mission
to carry out.

An astronomical survey

to be conducted by the science
officers, I believe.

And I was looking forward

to seeing the Epsilon Pulsar
Cluster for myself.

Then we'll perform
the procedure right here.

Absolutely not.

My staff and I are fully capable
of giving you the replacement.

That's not the point.

It would be...

it would be
inappropriate for you

to carry out the procedure.

Captain Picard, I had no idea.

You do have an ego, don't you?

Meaning?

You're concerned
about your image.

Don't worry.

If you get yourself
down to Starbase 515

your image will be safe with me.

Captain, excuse me.

Ensign.

I understand you're leaving
for Starbase 515.

Yes, sir. I was just
going to Shuttle Bay 2.

Good.
I have business there.

I shall accompany you.

You will?

I mean, yes, sir.

Prepare the shuttle
for immediate departure.

Aye, sir.

Something I can
take care of for you

on Starbase 515?

Hardly, Number One.

But you'll miss the
Epsilon Pulsar survey.

I'm well aware of that fact.

You have the Bridge.

Carry on.

Come.

Yes, what is it, Number One?

Is something wrong?

This trip to Starbase 515
is rather unexpected.

Ensign Crusher and l
will rendezvous with you

on your return
from the Epsilon Pulsar Cluster.

Forgive my saying so, sir, but
you're being rather enigmatic.

Consider it Captain's privilege.

As First Officer, I have
complete security clearance.

This has nothing to do with
ship's business, Number One.

Suffice it to say, it is
strictly a matter of...

image.

Relax, Wes, you'll do fine
on your exams.

Yeah.

It's not my exams
I'm worried about.

It's Captain Picard.

Why?

He's not taking the exams.

It's just the two of us

in a shuttlecraft
for six hours.

What am I going to talk
to Captain Picard about

for six hours?

Oh, archaeology, semantics,
literature, art.

You could learn a lot
from Captain Picard.

Ah, Captain Picard.

Nice day for a little trip.

Shuttle number 2
is ready for departure.

The Enterprise
is at impulse speed

and you are cleared for takeoff.

Data, wasn't the Captain
looking forward to this mission

to the Epsilon Pulsar Cluster?

So he said.

Then what would make
him change his mind?

Why would he leave
the ship now?

Commander.

Receiving a Mayday
on all frequencies.

Source?

Rhomboid Dronegar sector 006.

Detail?

Ship, unidentified, distress.

Nothing more.

Set course for Rhomboid
Dronegar 006, warp 7.

Sir, Rhomboid Dronegar sector
would put us

at considerable distance
from Captain Picard.

I know, Data.

I know.

Space, the final frontier.

These are the voyages
of the Starship Enterprise.

Its continuing mission--

to explore strange new worlds

to seek out new life
and new civilizations

to boldly go
where no one has gone before.

Entering Rhomboid
Dronegar sector 006.

I have a ship on target path.

Slow to impulse speed.

Aye, sir.

Viewer.

Deploy shields, sir?

Hold fast.

Data?

Basic early design

capable
of sub-light travel only.

Sir, we are being hailed.

On screen.

I'm First Officer William Riker
of the USS Enterprise.

We're responding
to your distress signal.

Uh-huh.

What is your problem?

We are far from home.

Aren't we all?

But you sent out a Mayday.

Uh-huh.

Do you need help?

We are Pakleds.

Our ship is the Mondor.

It is broken.

We are far from home.

We need help.

Let me guess, their rubber band
broke, right?

Sensors indicate
engineering problems.

They're experiencing total
guidance system failure

with less than 24
hours reserve power.

Maybe I can help.

What brings you
so far from home?

We look for things.

What were you looking for?

Things we need.

Can you be more specific?

Things that make us go.

We need help.

What is the nature
of your mission?

We look for things.

Do you hear an echo?

Commander,
from the looks of their ship

I can have them up
and running in no time.

You sure?

Yeah, no problem.

Very well.

Our Chief Engineer

will beam over to help you.

Close.

Commander.

Do we truly need to send our
Chief Engineer over to them?

Obviously, they need our help.

Why do we not simply give them
the information they need

to make their own repairs?

Do you honestly get the
impression they could

handle our technical
specifications?

We do not know anything
about them.

Acknowledged, Mr. Worf.

We have an obligation
to render aid.

Report to the Transporter Room
with all necessary gear.

Aye, sir.

We need more information.

Do you have
anything else on them?

They are
a relatively benign species.

Don't they seem a little slow?

They may merely have
poorly-developed

Ianguage skills.

What about weapons?

Scanners show limited armaments.

I think we can relax, Mr. Worf.

They can't even move their ship
without our help.

We certainly have them outmanned
and outgunned.

ETA 1330 hours, sir.

It's not exactly warp speed.

More like a late 22nd century
interplanetary journey.

Sir?

You should read
more history, Ensign.

Yes, sir.

Complete waste of time.

Pardon?

I shouldn't be taking
this trip at all.

I should be back
on board the Enterprise.

Why are you coming
with me to Starbase 515, sir?

Well, it's certainly
not my idea.

I'm sorry, Ensign.

I didn't mean
to take it out on you.

I just hate the prospect

of another damned
cardiac replacement.

Cardiac replacement?

I didn't know.

Well, now you do.

A parthenogenetic implant?

What else would it be?

My heart was... injured

and a replacement
was necessary.

That would have been it

except that the replacement
is faulty.

Why would anyone use
a faulty replacement?

Just pilot the shuttle, Ensign.

Whoa, wait a minute,
wait a minute, it's okay.

I'm here to help.

We are far from home.

Uh-huh.

Who's, uh, who's
in charge of engineering?

My friend.

His name is Reginod.

Think I could meet him?

He is Reginod.

Yes, I think you mentioned that.

We look for things.

So I've heard.

Can you make our ship go?

Yes, I think so.

We look for things
to make us go.

Fellows, why don't you
just show me

where your guidance
system is, okay?

Excuse me.

He is smart.

Commander...

Lieutenant La Forge
is on an alien ship?

Yes, we're rendering assistance
to some curious throwbacks.

How they ever mastered
the rudiments of space travel

is a genuine curiosity.

Commander, those aliens...
what they feel

is not helplessness.

Lieutenant La Forge
is in great danger.

He's in danger.

Great danger.

Can you be more specific,
Counselor?

It's not our help they want.

Well, our help is all
they're going to get.

They can't force us
into anything, can they?

You think they're weak.

Look at them.

They're certainly
not Jarada or Romulan.

Our Betazoid Counselor
is often aware of things

beyond our
perceptive abilities.

Van Doren's technique
has been perfected to 2.4%.

Sir?

The cardiac replacement
procedure.

It has a very low
mortality rate-- 2.4%.

Those are pretty good odds.

I'm just not overly thrilled
at the prospect

of having my innards becoming
the subject of Starfleet gossip.

Of course not, sir.

Why didn't you just have Dr.
Pulaski perform the operation?

I'm sure you could have
trusted her

to keep it quiet.

Let's say I have
personal reasons

and leave it at that, shall we?

The power needs to be rerouted
through this venturi chamber

before it can be channeled
to the engine's coils.

It is broken.

Yeah, but not for long.

See, we are going
to reconfigure

these separators
here and over here.

Lieutenant La Forge,
this is Commander Riker.

Come in.

Yes, Commander, go ahead.

Are you all right?

Sure, why do you ask?

Counselor Troi has expressed
misgivings about your absence

from the Enterprise.

I don't think there's
anything to worry about.

Understood.

As soon as you
complete the repairs

I want you back here.

Yes, sir.

I should be done
here momentarily.

See, like that.

There.

Your guidance is
now up and running.

Oh... main power failure?

Will our ship go now?

Well, your guidance
is operational

but you're not going anywhere.

Not with main power failure.

It is broken.

Can you make it go?

Commander Riker.

I have a problem.

On screen.

It looks like this

is going to take a little bit
longer than I anticipated.

I guess you would have preferred

Commander Riker
as a traveling companion.

What?

It's okay.

You're not too comfortable
with me.

I understand.

Ensign...

Wesley, that's not true.

You're a fine young man.

You don't have to say that, sir.

It's pretty obvious
how you feel.

Is it?

How so?

Everyone knows.

You don't like kids.

That's too bad.

You might have made
a good father.

Thank you.

Didn't you ever wish
you had kids of your own?

Wishing for a thing
does not make it so.

We send him over there
for one set of repairs

and now they need him for more.

Apparently, their ship
is quite fragile.

This is Riker on the Enterprise.

Almost got it, Commander.

We look for things.

Apparently, your ship is in need
of more than minor repair.

Things to make it go.

We will use our tractor beam
to tow you to the nearest base.

He can make it go.

Yes, but we need
our Chief Engineer

back on board our ship.

He is smart.

All done, Commander.

Prepare to beam over.

Yes, sir.

You are good.

We aim to please.

We need you.

I'm flattered.

Look, fellas,
I hate to repair and run

but if you'll excuse me.

One to beam aboard.

Hey, don't.

Transporter Room,
beam La Forge back immediately.

Negative response, sir.

Try again.

Negative response.

The Pakled ship
has a shield up, sir.

A shield? What kind?

It appears to be
beyond their technology.

Similar to Romulan shields.

Do not interfere
with our transporter beam.

Drop your shields!

Status?

Viewer transmission
terminated and blocked.

Hail on all frequencies.

Running frequency search.

Negative, sir.

They're ignoring us.

Apparently so.

Shields up.

Shields up.

Sensors at maximum sensitivity.

Sensors at maximum.

Phasers ready, sir.

Would you care
for some coffee, Ensign?

No, thank you, sir.

How about a sandwich?

I don't think so, sir.

Oh, come on, it's been hours.

You must be hungry.

Thank you, sir.

Here.

Were you ever married?

Never had the time.

Don't you ever get lonely?

For ambitious Starfleet officers

there are
certain costs involved.

One must be cautious of long-
term commitments, Wesley.

No problem.

Where women are concerned,
I am in complete control.

Really? Hmm.

I always rather had
to work at that.

Have you always been
so disciplined?

Good lord, no.

If I was, I wouldn't
have this problem.

I don't understand.

Well...

I was a young Starfleet officer

not many years older
than you are now.

Top of my Academy class,
green as hell.

And oh, so cocky.

Too cocky, as it turned out.

What happened?

Several friends and l
were on leave

at Farspace Starbase Earhart.

It was little more

than a galactic outpost
in those days.

Was this before the Klingons
joined the Federation?

That's right.

Well, my mates and l

were at the Bonestell
Recreation Facility

which was something

of a dead-rough crossroads
at the time

filled with an assorted bunch
of galactic riffraff

when...

a trio of Nausicaans came in.

They were clearly spoiling
for a confrontation

with a group of fresh-faced
Starfleet officers

such as ourselves.

Well, everyone in the group
had the good sense

to give these Nausicaans

a wide berth, stand off.

Everyone, that is, except me.

I stood toe-to-toe
with the worst of the three

and I told him
what I thought of him

his pals, his planet

and I possibly made
some passing reference

to his questionable parentage

and the next thing I knew

all three of them were on me
and I was fighting for my life.

I was actually doing quite well
for a while, too.

You fought them and won?

I had this one Nausicaan down

in this somewhat devious
joint-lock

when, unbeknownst to me

one of his chums drew his weapon
and impaled me through the back.

Curious sensation actually.

Not much pain.

Shock, certainly

at the sight of serrated metal
sticking through my chest.

A certain giddy warmth.

In fact, I do
actually remember

that I laughed out loud.

Well, it pierced my heart,
of course.

Well, if we'd not been so near
to a medical facility

I would surely have died.

Really?

Then what happened?

Nothing.

I was no hero, Wesley.

I was an undisciplined,
loud-mouthed

opinionated young man
who was way out of his league.

I learned a very hard,
very painful lesson that day

but I learned it well.

I hope you never have
to learn it the same way.

Care for another sandwich?

Please.

Come on, Data.

I am programming the com system

to scan
the interference patterns

but a full analysis
will take time.

Hey, you be careful
with that thing.

You want to hurt us.

What?

I came here to help you.

We can make more.

Make more weapons.

Wait a minute.

You have a replicator?

It is not broken.

I didn't come here
to give you weapons.

You will make more.

Commander, a photon torpedo
may penetrate their shield.

Any hostile move on our part
could jeopardize Geordi.

Agreed, but what
do the Pakleds want?

Counselor?

They have what they want,
for now.

We're approaching
Starbase 515, sir.

At last.

Did you read that book
I gave you?

Some of it.

That's reassuring.

I just don't have much time.

There's no greater challenge
than the study of philosophy.

But William James won't
be on my Starfleet exams.

The important things
never will be.

Anyone can be trained

in the mechanics
of piloting a starship.

But Starfleet Academy...

It takes more.

Open your mind to the past--
art, history

philosophy--

and all this may mean something.

It's all deception.

Nothing the Pakleds have said
or done has been sincere.

Intensified scan shows
their guidance system

to be perfectly intact,
as is their power generator.

Then what was Geordi repairing?

Apparently,
the putative malfunctions

were carefully programmed
into their ship's computer.

I didn't think the Pakleds
had that kind of technology.

They seem to have made

some technological
leaps forward, Commander.

Why would they go through this
charade of needing our help?

For the sole purpose

of making Lieutenant
La Forge their prisoner.

Captain's Personal Log,
Stardate 42779.5.

We have arrived at Starbase 515.

I'm still quite uneasy,
despite assurances

that this medical procedure
poses little risk.

I hope you won't be
late for your exams.

Oh, I still have some time, sir.

Why do I get
the distinct impression

that you're acting
like some kind of escort?

Dr. Pulaski asked me

to make sure that you
actually went inside.

That woman.

She would.

Sir?

Yes, what is it, Ensign?

I enjoyed our trip together,
sir.

So did l.

They are initiating
visual contact, sir.

Maybe now we'll find out
what they really want.

Enterprise.

We demand that you return
our crew member immediately.

Request denied.

Lower your shields.

Request denied.

Stop it!

What do you want?

You think we are not smart.

I think you need
to continue to develop.

We are smart.

Prove it.

Return our man to us.

You want him?

Yes, damn it.

Good.

We want all computer information
from your ship.

Now.

We've got a man held hostage
by alien forces

and all I have
are no-option options.

I need some input.

Is Geordi all right?

He's already been hit

by multiple phaser stuns.

He could need medical attention.

Security team stands ready
to take the initiative, sir.

Data?

Our options have not changed.

We can either respond
to the Pakled demand or not.

We can either use force or not.

Allowing them access
to our computer

is a complete breech
of Starfleet security.

Then force it must be.

Don't worry about
a thing, Captain.

We've done this a hundred times

and we're ready when you are.

Just get on with it, Doctor.

I have work to do.

Activate sterile field.

Neural calipers.

This will be a secondary
cardiac procedure

with mid-line entry

and excision
of the early model unit.

I anticipate no complications,
as the patient

has had positive primary results

and exhibits extraordinary
physical condition.

We'll all be home
in time for dinner.

Tissue mitigator.

There is limited information
available on the Pakled culture

but the eclectic range
of their equipment

suggests that their technology
was borrowed from others.

And now they have become
militant.

So it would seem.

Rationale?

They're unwilling to wait
for the timely evolution

of their species'
intellectual capacity.

They want instant knowledge,
instant power and gratification.

The more they get,
the more they want.

And the more aggressive
and dangerous they become.

I think it's time
we set some limits.

To what effect, sir?

We are faced
with an impossible conundrum.

Suppose we turn their impatience
and greed against them.

But how?

Perhaps Geordi should

give them something they want.

Something important.

Then we simply create the right
moment for him to take it away

and get him
the hell out of there.

Would you be suggesting a ruse
of some sort?

I would.

But what if we fail?

What'll happen to Geordi then?

We have no other choice.

We have to try.

There's been some
capillary reaction here.

Let's proceed carefully.

We'll need sharper focus

on the thoracic polychromatics

and verification
of myocardial enzyme balance.

Hey, let me talk to them.

I'll get you
their computer banks.

We want to be smart.

So open the hailing frequency.

They'll listen to me.

We are smart.

We need their computer things.

Yes. Yes.

Commander Riker?

Yes, Lieutenant.
We're here.

The Pakleds seem pretty sincere.

We want what we want.

Our computer banks
are non-negotiable.

We want them.

Believe me, they're
nothing if not persistent.

We want to be nothing
if not persistent.

Nobody ever said they were
great conversationalists.

Where did they get
their shields?

Yes, we like shields.

Well, from what I've seen, half
the systems on board the ship

have been stolen from the
Romulans, Klingons, Jarada--

just about anyone they've
ever come in contact with.

We like to be smart.

Confirmed, Lieutenant La Forge.

They steal technology.

But they lack the ability
to use it properly.

You're an excellent Chief
Engineer, Lieutenant La Forge.

Thank you, sir.

And of course

your knowledge of phaser and
photon weaponry is unmatched.

That's nice of you to say, sir

but... it's really
Lieutenant Worf that...

Our missions
are always inherently dangerous

and any of us
could be called upon

to make the ultimate sacrifice

at any time.

Well, yes, sir, but...

Speaking of time

this may be your time.

I shall personally miss you.

Good-bye, Geordi.

I shall miss you
at weapons systems analysis.

Uh-huh.

Uh... and I guess
you'll just have to arm

your photon torpedoes
without me.

As well as our hydrogen
collectors.

Fond farewell.

He knows about weapons.

You can make us strong.

Well, it's not something that
I really like to talk about.

Any classified weapons knowledge

you share with your captors
will be considered treason.

But I may have no choice.

You will die without honor.

Thanks a lot, Worf.

You will never attain
the 24th level of awareness.

24, huh?

That's, uh...

That's quite a challenge.

Indeed.

24 is the gateway
to heroic salvation.

Do you think he understands?

He'd better.

He's afraid.

We all are, Counselor.

You are smart.

Not smart enough.

I'm still here.

Make us strong.

I thought you wanted me
to help you go?

Why don't we work
on that guidance system, okay?

Make us strong.

Or die.

It's not working.

Something's wrong.

The metabilation occlusions
aren't holding.

Damn it, I can't stop
the heterocyclic declination.

Fuse!

Again!

We need a biomolecular
physiologist in here.

This man is dying.

Right away, sir.

You've got to be kidding.

Make us strong.

Come on, there's not
enough juice in these

to blow off a passing asteroid.

Do it.

Make us strong.

I suppose we could increase
the anti-matter charges.

Yes. We like power.

Yeah.

Do not try to trick us.

We can tell.

Metabilation?

Negative.

Heterocyclics?

Failing.

And capillary integrity
too unpredictable

to attempt a resect.

You're unwilling
to make the attempt?

I'm not qualified.

I know someone who is.

Are you sure he can do it, sir?

I mean, Geordi's an engineer,
not a weapons specialist.

If anyone can improvise,
it's Geordi.

Well, what makes you think

the Pakleds even have
that kind gear on board?

Ongoing scanning indicates
progressive weapons potential.

The timing will be crucial.

Geordi must correctly
interpret our intentions.

Geordi's up to speed.

I trust his instincts.

The Pakled did hear
our little fiction

about Geordi's
weapons knowledge.

Exactly, and since they equate
intelligence with strength

they won't pass up the chance
to use that knowledge.

Can you do it?

Count on it.

Bridge to Commander Riker.

Go ahead, Bridge.

I am receiving
an emergency summons

from Starbase 515.

Captain Picard

is close to death.

Be ready.

We are strong.

You are armed to the teeth.

Teeth are for chewing.

You have photon torpedo.

You are strong.

We are strong.

We have power.

Positive indication of armed
photon torpedoes, Commander.

Geordi did it.

Starbase requests
we proceed to base

at warp 9.

We've got to go.

Yes, the Captain needs our help.

We can't leave Geordi behind.

I want the Pakleds on that
screen, and I want them now.

Forced spectrum communication
is spotty at best, sir.

Do it.

This is the Enterprise.

Return our personnel
or face immediate reprisal.

We are strong now.

We have better weapons.

Are you prepared to use them?

We are a force now.

We will have respect, power.

We don't have time for this.

You want power?
Here's power.

Riker to Ensign Gomez.

Ready, Commander Riker.

Prepare firing sequence.

Start firing countdown from 24.

I can't believe it.

My friends, my people,
they're trying to kill us.

Kill me!

Believe it.

They are violent.

Okay, they want to play rough--
that's fine with me.

Just let me check something.

Good, he is on our side now.

Begin firing sequence.

Twenty-four.

Twenty-three.

Twenty-two.

Twenty-one.

Twenty.

Firing sequence proceeding, sir.

Hold fast.

Eighteen.

Seventeen.

Sixteen.

Fifteen.

Don't do anything yet.

Thirteen.

What are you doing?

Making sure your systems
are operative.

We will attack.

We are strong.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

We should attack now.

Just another second.

We can't afford a misfire here.

Two.

Hurry.

One.

Fire.

Now!

Oh, no, it's too late.

We have fired.

They will be destroyed.

They used
their crimson force field.

It did not shoot.

No, the crimson force field
has disarmed us.

They are smart.

We are not strong.

Drop your shields.

Allow us to transport
Lieutenant La Forge immediately.

Shields are down, sir.

Transporter Room,
beam one to the Bridge.

Aye, sir.

Set heading
for Starbase 515, warp 9.

Blowing that hydrogen exhaust
through the Bussard collector

sure put on a nice light show.

Harmless but effective.

Were you able
to disable the photons?

Just in time.

That's why you're still here.

Deactivating neural calipers.

What in the hell
are you doing here?

Saving your life.

Oh, come on.

This is a routine procedure.

Quite commonplace.

True.

But you are not
a commonplace man.

You'll be out of recovery
in four hours.

I didn't want you
involved in this.

You're welcome.

If you're here,
the entire crew must know.

You're still the Captain.

Invincible.

Hmm, thank you.

I beg your pardon.

Looks like things are
back to normal.

I'm pleased to report

that Ensign Crusher's
Starfleet exam results

permit him
to continue his studies

on board the Enterprise.

Furthermore, any rumors
of my brush with death

are greatly exaggerated.

Is that clear?

Yes, sir.

Then, Ensign Crusher, set course
for the Epsilon sector, warp 5.

Engage.