All language subtitles for Star Trek Enterprise S01E12 Silent Enemy

Echo Two is away, sir.

A clean launch.

It's made contact with Echo One.

How long before we get
subspace online?

I'd like to send a few test
transmissions to calibrate amplifiers.

- An hour.
- My guess is we have a lot of people

onboard waiting to call home.

A vessel is dropping
out of warp, captain.

Twelve kilometres dead ahead.

Put it up.

- Look familiar?
- I don't recognise the configuration.

Good. Hail them.

This is the starship Enterprise.
What can we do for you?

My name is Jonathan Archer.

We're on a mission of exploration
from the planet Earth.

- Hoshi?
- The channel's open, sir.

Do you need assistance?

If you don't wanna talk,
that's fine, but

you dropped in on us.

Was it something I said?

Did you get anything on sensors?

No.

No what?

No bio-signs.

No propulsion or weapon signatures.

No readings at all.

Are there any inhabited
systems nearby?

None.

Why fly right up to us
just to give us the silent treatment?

Maybe they got our signal,
but it didn't make any sense to them.

- Our translator is far from perfect.
- I wouldn't take offence.

Not every species has motives that
can be understood in human terms.

Maybe they checked us out and
decided we weren't very interesting.

Us? Not interesting?

Let's calibrate
the subspace amplifier.

At least the people back home
wanna talk to us.

Sir.

I tracked them down.

- It took me all week.
- Where are they?

Kota Baharu. It's in Malaysia.

- What time is it there?
- A little after 9 at night.

That shouldn't be too late.

Let's break in that new amplifier.
I'll be in my Ready Room.

- Is he all right?
- He's fine.

- Is he in some kind of trouble?
- No, sir. Malcolm's doing a great job.

I'm sure you know it's his
birthday in a couple of days.

Yes. Yes, it is. September 2nd.

We haven't seen our son
on his birthday in quite a few years.

He called from San Francisco to let us
know he'd been assigned to Enterprise,

but we haven't heard
from him since.

What are Malcolm's duties
on your ship, captain?

He's my armoury officer.

Well...

His grandfather would be pleased.

He was an ordinance officer
himself in the Royal Navy.

It must be in Malcolm's blood.

The Reeds have been navy men
for generations.

Until Malcolm decided
to join Starfleet.

I suppose the ocean
wasn't big enough for him.

He's a long way from home
in any case, Mr Reed.

I'd like to do something for his birthday,
make him a special dinner.

I was hoping you could tell me
what he likes to eat.

Captain, Malcolm's never been
comfortable making requests.

I'm not sure I understand.

He always ate whatever
was put in front of him.

Are you saying he doesn't have
a favourite food?

Not that he's ever told me.

Well...

if you happen to think of anything,

you can always contact me
through Starfleet.

Give Malcolm our best.

- I will.
- Safe journey, captain.

- How'd it go?
- Could have gone better.

Apparently, he hasn't called home
since we left Earth.

I want you to find out
what he likes to eat.

- Me, sir?
- But don't let Malcolm know.

Maybe this is more in chef's area.

We're talking about
a delicate assignment, Hoshi.

It needs your finesse.

Sir, I'm running a diagnostic
on our subspace-transceiver array.

Get some help if you need it,
but make this a top priority.

That's an order.

Yes, sir.

- Where were you at dinner?
- I ate in my quarters.

Now that we've got
the amplifier working,

I wanted to answer a few letters.

You missed T'Pol's latest bout
with chopsticks.

Damn. Dinner and a show.

I thought you were
gonna upgrade this.

That is the upgrade.

Well, if you want,
I can change the colour.

- What's the word from home?
- Oh, the usual. Engineering updates.

Oh, and Duvall got promoted.

- They're giving him the Shenandoah.
- Duvall got his own command?

Thank God we're
a hundred light years away.

And I got a letter from Natalie.

- The Natalie, from Pensacola?
- Yep.

Natalie from Pensacola.

Looks like we've got a charge
imbalance in this manifold.

I'll get right on it.

Trip?

You know, they say long-distance
relationships never work.

Well, this is about
as long distance as you can get.

Are you okay?

Oh, yeah. I just...

I just wish I'd have had the chance
to say goodbye face-to-face.

Let me ask you something.

Do you spend much time
with Malcolm?

I was in the armoury yesterday
for a few hours,

swapping out some power relays.

- You talk about anything interesting?
- Power relays.

- I talked to his parents this morning.
- Really?

Yeah.

Sit.

If I asked your parents
what you liked to eat,

- would they be able to tell me?
- Are you kidding?

My mum would give you her recipe
for pan-fried catfish,

and wouldn't let you go
till you promised not to screw it up.

Malcolm's parents didn't know
what his favourite food was.

They didn't even know
he was an armoury officer.

That's strange.

It made me think.

We don't know that much
about Malcolm, do we?

Bridge to the captain.

- Go ahead.
- The alien vessel has returned.

Guess we weren't
so uninteresting after all.

They dropped out of warp
500 kilometres dead ahead.

I had to reverse engines
to keep from banging into them.

Let's try this again.

Welcome back.

I was hoping we'd have
an opportunity to meet again.

The primary mission of my ship

is to make peaceful contact
with other species.

If there's anything we can do
to assure you of our intentions...

Well...

It's been nice talking to you.

Let's do this again sometime.

- I'm picking up something.
- Can you translate it?

I don't think it's a language.

We're being scanned.

Hull plating.

It's off-line!

Hard about.

They've gone to warp, sir.

Everybody okay?

Damage reports are coming in, sir.

- No one's been hurt.
- What the hell was that about?

Captain, when they
fired their weapon,

they dropped their shielding
for about two seconds.

- I was able to take some scans.
- What did you get?

Bio-signs. At least 15, maybe more.

Their DNA doesn't match
anything in our database.

It's a good thing they're gone.

I doubt very much our torpedoes
could've penetrated their shielding.

Stay on long-range scanners.

If they come anywhere near us,
I wanna know.

T'Pol.

That support frame's bent.
We'll need to reinforce it.

- How bad is it?
- If that shot was a half metre higher,

- we'd be looking at stars.
- Hold it a minute!

There were 13 people working in this
section, captain, including yours truly.

If that bulkhead had blown...

Did your people run into
as many hostile aliens

when they first went
into deep space?

- It was a different time.
- How so?

There were fewer
warp-capable species.

This ship just isn't
equipped to handle

some of the threats
we're coming up against.

- It's time we do something about that.
- What are you suggesting?

Enterprise was fitted
with phase-cannon ports.

Since we left space dock a few weeks
ahead of schedule,

the cannons were never installed.

I think it's time they were.

We should head back to Earth.

- Just give us two weeks, captain.
- I know we can do it.

Most of the stuff we need
is already on the ship.

The armoury team at Jupiter Station
is trained for this kind of work.

If we're gonna do this,
let's do it right.

My engineers are
just as good as they are.

I know that, Trip.

But we have other systems
that could use overhauls.

Look at the bright side.

You'll get a chance
to say goodbye to Natalie.

Sir,

with your permission,
we could at least begin the work,

get a few things started
for Jupiter Station.

It'll cut down the time we'll have
to spend in space dock.

Do what you can.

- Archer to Mayweather.
- Go ahead, captain.

We're heading home.

This, ladies and gentlemen,

is a phase-modulated
energy weapon.

It's rated for a maximum power
output of 500 gigajoules.

Enterprise was designed
to carry three of them.

We have one,

and it's only a prototype.

Our job is to get it up and running
and build two more from scratch.

The captain's taking us back because
he thinks this work ought to be done

by the boys in space dock.

Far be it from me to question
the captain's judgement,

but Commander Tucker and I
believe we can do this ourselves.

That means double shifts.

By the time we reach
Jupiter Station,

I don't want their engineers
to have a thing to do

but give us a wash and a wax.

- Any questions?
- Are we expecting another attack, sir?

We all signed up
for this trip

because we wanted to do something
no one had ever done before,

not because we thought
it'd be easy or safe.

But we're not here
to take foolish risks.

The captain and the rest of the crew
are depending on us

to keep Enterprise
ready for anything.

And once we get these
phase-cannons online,

we'll have a lot more firepower
to do just that.

So, what are you
standing around for?

He once told me that he
loved to eat octopus,

especially the little suction cups,
but I think he was pulling my leg.

You can never tell whether
my brother's joking or not.

Can I talk to him?

We really would like
to keep this a surprise.

Oh, right, the dinner.

I remember one time,
this was at least ten years ago,

he went for a whole week
without eating.

- Really?
- Got by on nothing

but water and a little apple juice.

- Why?
- Some sort of survival training.

Or was it a contest?

When he started eating again, do you
remember the first thing he wanted?

He was so weak,
he could barely get out of bed.

For two days, all he had
was protein concentrate.

When you two were growing up,
he never said:

"Hey, let's go out for pizza,"

or "Boy, I'd love some Indian food."

Not that I remember.

Malcolm isn't the easiest person
to get to know.

I'm figuring that out.

When we were training
in San Francisco,

there was a little restaurant on
the Embarcadero he liked to go to.

They had a specialty,
some kind of fish, I think.

What kind?

- Halibut? Swordfish?
- No.

Mahi-mahi? Scallops?

- I had sea bass.
- Great.

- And Malcolm?
- I don't remember.

Try, please.

Maureen.

- Is that a fish?
- No, she was the waitress.

That's why Malcolm wanted
to go there. He had a thing for her.

- I think he hates fish.
- Thanks.

So how's your
secret mission coming?

I've talked to his sister,
his best friend,

his Uncle Archie,
his two spinster aunts.

The most anyone seems to know
about his eating habits

is that he occasionally eats.

Ensign.

If you want to know something
about Mr Reed,

perhaps you should ask him.

Anyone sitting here?

No. Please.

This is the first chance
I've had to eat all day.

Oh, tell me about it.

I haven't set foot outside
the armoury since 0700.

How's your ravioli?

It's fine.

Nothing like a nice plate of pasta.

You know, I used to love to cook,
but I never get a chance to anymore.

And the way the chef
protects the galley...

One of these nights,

I should fix something myself.

- I'm sorry.
- You'd love my enchiladas.

Enchiladas?

Well, if you don't like them,
I can fix something else.

What's your favourite food?

I appreciate the offer,
but it

it really isn't necessary.

Aren't you getting a little tired of having
to eat whatever chef happens to serve?

- No, he's a fine cook.
- Don't get me wrong.

He's terrific.

It's just that dinner
in the mess hall can

lack a certain personal touch.
I've got a hot plate in my quarters.

That's very flattering and

I'm just not sure
it would be appropriate.

What do you mean?

Well...

...we work together and

it just might be a little awkward...

serving on the same ship.

What does that have to do with...?

No, I didn't... I didn't mean to

imply anything other than
just making dinner, lieutenant.

- Well, then, it's my mistake then...
- No, it's my fault.

I shouldn't have...

- Yeah, I'll just...
- No, please, finish your dinner.

No, no, no, you've got
a lot of work to do.

So...

Captain, I'm detecting
a ship dead astern.

- Eight thousand metres.
- Let me guess. Our shadow?

Closing to 7,000.

Six thousand.

Polarise the hull plating.

Reed to bridge.

Armoury, report.

Get to your stations. Move.

Warp drive is off-line.

Main power is down.

Torpedoes.

Tactical systems are down.

Why don't you save time,
and tell me what isn't down?

The outer doors
in Launch Bay 2 are opening.

- Seal them.
- I can't.

Get away from those men!

Go.

- Archer to Sickbay.
- Phlox here, captain.

Report to E Deck, Section 7.
This is an emergency.

On my way.

- Security to Captain Archer.
- Go ahead.

The aliens are gone, sir.
They've launched their shuttle.

- Bridge, report!
- The alien vessel has gone to warp.

But that last shot damaged our port
nacelle. We're venting drive plasma.

Doctor?

I've stabilised them,

but they were subjected
to some rather invasive scans.

Will they be all right?

There could be some residual
neurological damage.

I'm doing everything I can.

Have you ever heard
of anything like this?

No.

Are there any Vulcan records of
a species that uses similar tactics?

And I don't care
how classified they might be.

None that I know of, captain.

Find out what you can.

Tucker to Archer.

- Go ahead.
- We've got the plasma leak

under control, but our port nacelle
took a lot of damage.

- How long before we can go to warp?
- A couple of days.

- What about impulse power?
- Well, that's the good news.

It should be back online
in a few minutes.

I'll take all the good news I can get.

Keep me posted, doctor.

There are no Vulcan ships
within scanning range.

Sir, we could try to contact
the Vulcan High Command.

They're only two days away
at warp six.

I'm sure they'd give us a hand.

I'm sure they would.

I can't raise Vulcan.

It's funny. I ran a diagnostic
after the attack.

But now Echo Two won't respond.

- That's because it isn't there.
- What?

There's nothing but debris at the
coordinates where we deployed
the amplifier.

What about Echo One?

Destroyed as well.

The stabiliser on cannon port two
checks out okay, sir.

- Port two or port one?
- Port one, sir. Sorry.

Get it right.

- Start on those beam emitters.
- Yes, sir.

Targeting scanners
will be online in an hour.

We should be aligning them by now,
not installing them.

You were a little hard on Eddie.

Everyone's busting their tails
to get this job done.

- You okay?
- Yeah.

I'm fine.

- I told them to depolarise these relays.
- What were you trying to do?

- Bypass the EPS grid.
- Why?

Well we could draw power for the cannons
directly from the impulse engines.

Are you trying to make this
blow up in your face?

The relays were rated to handle
that much power.

- What if there's a surge?
- I've thought of that.

These inverters were designed to cut
in at the first sign of an overload.

We gotta do this by the book,

or we'll end up blowing a bigger hole
in ourselves than the bad guys.

I've run a dozen simulations.
It's an acceptable risk.

When it comes to modifying
ship's systems,

why don't you let the chief engineer
decide what's an acceptable risk.

Sir...

if we do this by the book,

those aliens are likely to be back
before we're done.

I wanna get this job done
as quickly as you do, lieutenant,

but not if it means taking shortcuts
that could get our people killed.

Yes, sir.

Don't you ever rest?

You know, I can't sleep
without the warp engines online.

If I don't feel those vibrations,
something just doesn't seem right.

Well, I hope you get them fixed soon,
because you look like hell.

Well, with all due respect, captain,
you shouldn't be talking.

How's it coming?

It�ll be online by the end of the day
tomorrow, guaranteed.

Could you check
the dilithium alignment for me?

Sure.

.06 microns.

At least we'll be flying home
under our own power.

Let me know if it drops
below .03.

I tried to get a message to the Vulcan
High Command, but it didn't go through.

If it had, we'd be expecting
a Surak-class ship tomorrow,

oh-so-politely offering to help us.

Well, the Vulcans
would've loved that.

Towing the pride of Starfleet
back to base.

Maybe we should thank our visitors
for blowing up the subspace amplifiers.

It's holding at .05.

Keep an eye on it.

You looking forward to seeing Earth?

Sure.

I just didn't think
I'd be seeing it so soon.

This time,

we won't be leaving
before we're ready.

Are your ears
a little pointier than usual?

I...

I never said
we didn't belong out here.

I just wish we'd have...

...launched with
all our systems online,

especially weapons.

If we hadn't launched when we did,

they'd have sent Klaang
back to Kronos in a box.

I keep reminding myself of that.

But I rushed us out of space dock
because I had something to prove.

And I risked the lives of...

81 humans, a Vulcan
and a Denobulan to do it.

Don't forget Porthos.

Thanks.

In the old days,
astronauts rode rockets

with millions of litres of hydrogen
burning under their seats.

You think they said:

"Gee, I'd love to go to the moon today,
but it seems a little risky"?

I think if you asked anyone onboard

whether they thought this mission
was worth the risk,

you'd get the same answer
from every one of them.

Let me know
when we're ready to go to warp.

Aye, sir.

Have you still got those guns
hooked up to the impulse engines?

- I'm just disconnecting them now.
- Hang on a minute.

You're sure this will work?

Yes, commander, I am.

Then based on the recommendation
of the armoury officer,

the chief engineer finds
the level of risk acceptable.

In that case, if the chief engineer
wouldn't mind getting his hands dirty,

I could use some help.

Captain's starlog,
September 1st, 2151.

It's been two days now
with no sign of the alien vessel.

My crew has managed
to do in 48 hours

what would've taken the armoury team
at Jupiter Station at least a week.

To say that I am proud of them
would be an understatement.

We're preparing our first test.

Everybody has their fingers crossed,

including me.

- You're sure there's nothing down there?
- Yes, captain.

Not even a microbe?
I don't wanna blow up something

that could evolve into a sentient
species in a couple of billion years.

There's nothing there.

Archer to Lieutenant Reed.
Have you got a lock?

- Yes, captain.
- Let's start small.

Shave a couple of metres
off the top of that peak.

Acquiring the target.

Full power to the primary coils.

Phase-cannons one and two,
standing by.

Mr Reed,

the honour is all yours.

I just asked for a little off the top.

Check the cannons.
Be careful down there.

The blast yield was ten times
what we expected.

What happened?

Something overloaded
the phase modulators.

The plasma recoil blew out relays
across decks C and D.

I'm getting an anomalous reading
from Launch Bay 2.

Trip, T'Pol.

There. What's that?

You think that's what's causing
the power surge?

It's very likely.

It's putting out a tremendous
amount of energy.

Over 600 megajoules.

They're toying with us.

They want us to know they can
destroy us whenever they want,

even with our own weapons.

Whatever it is,

it's tapped into most of our systems,
including internal sensors,

and communications on every deck.

Activate visual sensor J-15.

I assume you planted that device because
you wanted to learn more about us.

I'll be happy to give you
a quick lesson.

We're not here to make enemies.

But just because we're not
looking for a fight

doesn't mean we'll
run away from one.

You may think
you've left us defenceless,

but let me tell you something
about humans.

We don't give up easily.

We'll protect Enterprise...

any way we can.

Doctor?

I'll be with you in a moment, ensign.

I see you released your patients.

They're going to be fine. I sent them
back to their quarters to rest.

That's good to hear.

What can I do for you?

You spend a lot of time
in the mess hall.

Have you ever had a meal
with Lieutenant Reed?

Many times.

Any idea what his
favourite food might be?

Ah, the birthday dinner.

Well, the man
loves a good breakfast.

- Like what?
- Eggs. I've seen him eat a lot of eggs.

- How does he like them?
- Scrambled, poached, over easy.

Maybe chef could make him
a big omelette.

Oh, and he enjoys pancakes,
on occasion.

He has the odd habit of spreading
peanut butter on them.

Sausage, another favourite too.
Bacon too, come to think of it.

Is there any one food in particular?

Not that I recall.

Breaking a Vulcan encryption code
would be easier than this.

If anything comes to mind,
I'll let you know.

I don't suppose scanning
his taste buds would help.

Medically speaking,
there's no accounting for taste.

Thanks anyway.

- Bromelain.
- Sorry?

I think I can help you, ensign.

But it would mean going into
Mr Reed's medical records.

That information is confidential.

I'm under direct orders
from the captain.

Couldn't you make an exception?

Under the circumstances,
I suppose it wouldn't hurt.

I've made it a point to study
each crewman's medical history,

and I remember noticing that
Lieutenant Reed suffers

from a number of allergies.

Let's see, dust mites, oak pollen,
tropical grasses.

Oh, here it is.

He's averse to various plant enzymes,
including bromelain.

What does all this have to do
with what he likes to eat?

Over the last several years,
he's been taking regular injections,

so that his body
can tolerate bromelain.

- A plant enzyme.
- Yes.

- Found in...?
- Among other things, pineapple.

Pineapple.

This doesn't mean
it's his favourite food.

It's close enough.
Thank you, doctor.

- It's them.
- Where are they?

Closing from astern, 20,000 metres.

- Fifteen.
- Should I try evasive manoeuvres?

No. Come about,
and hold our position.

Bridge to the armoury.
Guess who's back.

We see them.

Both forward cannons
are charged and ready.

- Get a lock and stand by.
- They've stopped.

- Eleven thousand metres.
- We're being hailed.

Put it through.

- Defenceless.
Prepare to surrender your vessel.

You are defenceless.

- Prepare to surrender.
- Shut it off.

You are defenceless...

Ten thousand metres, nine.

Mr Reed...

...both cannons. Fire.

I'm reading a fluctuation
in their shielding, but it's marginal.

- Five thousand metres.
- Is that the best we can do?

Even if these had been
installed at Jupiter Station,

they wouldn't be any more effective
than they are now.

What about yesterday? You blew up
something the size of Mt McKinley.

Yes, sir, but that was due
to an overload.

Can you overload them again?

Sir, after the damage
from the first time,

the plasma recoil would probably
knock out two decks.

Can you overload them again?

I believe so.

I'd rather knock out two decks
than surrender this ship.

- But, sir...
- Hold on a minute.

- There's a way to handle the recoil.
- How?

All that excess energy's
gotta go somewhere.

- Why not put it to use?
- Three thousand metres.

If we repolarise the gravity plating
to absorb the recoil,

we can shunt the energy
to structural integrity.

- Sounds good to me.
- The grav-plating wasn't designed

to withstand that much force.

We all understand the risks.
Get started.

Aye, sir.

- One thousand metres.
- Malcolm.

Stand by.

Trip.

- We're ready, sir.
- Then fire.

- Their shields are failing.
- Torpedoes.

Bridge to the armoury.

Everything okay down there?

We blew out the
plasma relays on B Deck,

but it's nothing we can't take care of.
What about our friends?

I have a feeling their repairs are
gonna be a little more extensive.

- How'd the cannons hold up?
- Fairly well.

I'll have them back online
within the hour.

The aft cannons should be working
by the end of day tomorrow.

Good work.

Well...

I see no reason for us to go back
to Jupiter Station now.

Do you?

No.

At least there's one good thing
about coming back this far.

We can drop another
subspace amplifier.

Get on it.

Travis...

resume our previous course.

Gladly, sir.

To our mysterious friends.

I wish I could've seen the looks
on their faces.

Hear, hear.

Don't get too used to
drinking on duty.

But you did your jobs
pretty damn well yesterday.

I'd say that deserves
a little celebration.

Cheers.

If you really wanna thank us,

how about letting us
sleep in tomorrow?

Permission granted.

- Hoshi, what can we do for you?
- Sorry to interrupt, captain.

I have that component
that you asked for.

Great. Put it down right here.

As long as we've got you here,
Malcolm...

...happy birthday.

You shouldn't have gone
to any trouble.

No trouble at all.

Mr Reed, the honour is yours.

Pineapple.

That's my favourite.

How on earth did you know?

We have our sources.