All language subtitles for Star Trek - Voyager - S04E25 - One.en

Lieutenant, Ensign.

Hey, Seven.

Have some dinner.

The potato salad isn't half bad.

I do not require nutrition
at this time.

1 would like to talk with you.

Okay.

Ensign Kim, what is
your place of origin?

You mean where am I from.

Well, I was born
in South Carolina...

Lieutenant Torres, explain

why you became a member
of the Maquis.

Um, it was through Chakotay.

I met him...

Well, actually,
he saved my life.

List the sports you play.

I've dabbled in quite a few--
tennis, parrises squares...

but my favorite is volleyball.
It's...

Specify the foods
you find enjoyable.

Seven, what is this?

Describe the nature
of your sexual relationship

with Lieutenant Paris.

Okay, that's it.

Computer, freeze program.

Would you care to explain
what you're doing?

I'm doing exactly
what you instructed me to do.

I hardly think so.

I created this program
to help you become

more comfortable
in social situations,

not to practice
alienating people.

You made recommendations

about how to carry on
a conversation.

That's true.

You said it's helpful if people

feel you're interested
in them...

Correct.

...and that drawing them out

by asking them
about themselves

is one way to demonstrate
that interest.

That doesn't mean subjecting
them to an interrogation.

You have to let them answer.

Listen to what they're saying.

Ask another question
on the same subject.

Take your time.

Shall we try again?

I believe I am overdue

for my weekly
medical maintenance.

We should go.

Seven, you've never volunteered
for a checkup before.

It is preferable
to remaining here.

What have we got here?

Looks like
a Mutara-class nebula

with a few trace constituents
that aren't in our database,

but they're showing up
in minute quantities.

The nebula is vast, Captain.

It extends beyond the reach
of our sensors.

Huh. Then I guess we
won't try to go around it.

Tom, take us in
at one-half impulse.

Yes, ma'am.

I'm detecting
a slight radioactive field.

It's...

Harry?

Nothing. Uh...

it's just a headache coming on.

Maybe you should
go to Sick Bay.

Yeah, maybe so.

Captain!

Oh, God!

Oh...

Tom, turn us around.

Get us out of here.

Janeway to Sick Bay.

Yes, Captain.

We need help.

What happened?

I'm being inundated with calls!

Hurry!

Seven, go to the Bridge.

Use the dermal regenerator
to treat the burns.

Course laid in.

We've cleared the nebula.

All stop.

He's dead.

The nebula extends for at least
110 light-years, possibly more.

At the least it would take us

well over a month
to get through it

and more than a year
to get around it.

The crew was unable
to tolerate the nebula

for even a few minutes.

They certainly
could not survive a month.

We've come 15,000 light-years.

We haven't been stopped
by temporal anomalies,

warp-core breaches
or hostile aliens,

and I am damned if I'm going
to be stopped by a nebula.

I'll be in Sick Bay.

I've analyzed a sample
of the gases from the nebula.

I think the damage came
from subnucleonic radiation.

Even the briefest exposure

is devastating
to organic tissue.

Can you give us any protection
against the effects?

Yes. Stasis chambers--
independent life support

for each unit.

Are you suggesting...

that the entire crew be put
in suspended animation?

Yes.

I, of course,
would stay on line

in order to monitor everyone.

Well, this is a
drastic step, Doctor.

Are there any other options--

adjusting the shields,
inoculations?

I assure you, I've considered
all possibilities.

This is the only way.

There's more to getting
through the nebula

than monitoring the crew.

Who would regulate ship systems,
make course adjustments?

I think I've demonstrated
that I have a command

of the rudimentary aspects
of piloting.

Of course you have,
and I know that you could do it,

but you'll need backup.

We have no idea what effect

the nebula radiation might
have on your holo-matrix.

What if you went off-line?

There was only one crew member
besides myself

that seemed unaffected
by the nebula.

I want you to understand
the seriousness

of this responsibility.

The lives of the entire crew
will be on your shoulders.

You doubt my ability
to fulfill this task.

Ordinarily, not at all,

but this is
an unusual situation.

After being in the collective...

it wasn't easy for you
to adjust to a ship

with only 150 people
on it, was it, Seven?

How would you feel

with only the Doctor
for company?

1 will adapt.

Most humans don't react
particularly well

to long periods of isolation.

Borg drones have
even more difficulty.

As you pointed out,
I am neither human nor Borg.

I can do this, Captain.

All right.

I'll work with my senior staff

to draw up a list of duties,
but let me make it clear.

The Doctor will be in command.

You will follow his instructions
just as you would follow mine.

Follow the orders of a hologram.

He's our Chief Medical Officer,

and he is thoroughly grounded
in Starfleet protocols.

You will report to him.

I understand.

The Doctor's preparing
the stasis units now.

They should be ready
by 1700 hours.

And...
how long will this be for?

We don't know for certain.

At least a month,

maybe longer if the nebula
is larger than we estimate.

I've never been
in long-term stasis.

Are there any side effects?

The Doctor assures me
it'll be just like taking a nap.

We'll go into the units;

our cardiopulmonary systems
will be slowed;

neural activity suspended;
and we'll wake up feeling

as though we'd had
a good night's sleep.

There are things
that can go wrong.

At least,
that's what I've read.

We will be carefully

monitored by Seven
and the Doctor,

who will check our vital signs
four times a day

and take care of
any other problems.

I assume that we've explored
all the alternatives.

I think we're all feeling uneasy
about this,

and I'd be lying if I said
I don't have concerns myself,

and I think
it's about loss of control.

We always feel better
if we think we're in charge

of our own circumstances.

In stasis,
we're giving up that control

and no Starfleet officer
likes to do that.

But crews have been in stasis
much longer than a month.

I think we can handle this.

All right?

You're free until 1700 hours.

I'll make
a shipwide announcement

when the Doctor's ready.

Dismissed.

Something else?

I want you to tell me
that this isn't a mistake.

Your turn to get reassurance?

Maybe. But my concern
isn't about going into stasis.

It's about who you're leaving
in charge.

You're worried about Seven.

Maybe you need to step outside
yourself for a minute.

Look at the fact
that here's someone

who's butted horns with you

from the moment
she came on board;

who disregards authority
and actively disobeys orders

when she doesn't agree
with them.

And this is the person
I'm giving responsibility

for the lives
of this entire crew.

I suppose you want me
to tell you I'm not crazy.

In a nutshell.

I know your bond
with Seven is unique;

different from everyone else's.

From the beginning,
you've seen things in her

that no one else could.

But maybe you
could help me understand

some of those things.

I don't know if I can.

It's just instinct.

There's something
inside me that says

she can be redeemed.

In spite of her
insolent attitude,

I honestly believe she
wants to do well by us.

That's good enough for me.

See you at 1700 hours.

If I have to take a nap
for a month,

I really would rather
do it in my quarters.

Everyone's being relocated
here to Deck 14,

SO we can monitor you
more easily.

Hop in.

Come on, Tom.

Sleepy time.

What if we...
had to get out in a hurry?

You can unlock the
unit from inside, Tom.

Do I detect a hint
of claustrophobia, Lieutenant?

Why do they have to design
these things like coffins?

Should we replicate you
a teddy bear?

Sleep tight.

Have no worries, Captain.

You'll go to sleep,
and the next thing you know,

I'll be standing over you,

telling you
we're through the nebula.

I'm leaving this ship
in good hands.

I have every confidence
in both of you.

See you in a month.

Well, it's just
the two of us now.

Personal Log, Seven of Nine,
Stardate 51929.3.

This is the tenth day

of our journey
through the Mutara nebula.

I have created
an efficient daily routine.

Nutritional supplement
14-beta-7.

Computer, adjust heading
by .347 degrees starboard.

Course adjusted.

Seven of Nine to the Doctor.

Go ahead.

Lieutenant Paris
has left his stasis unit

and is unconscious.

I'll be right there.

Apparently, he's more
claustrophobic than I thought.

But he doesn't seem to have
suffered any ill effects.

Is this likely
to happen again?

It's not unheard of
for people to come

out of stasis
and start wandering.

Leave it to Mr. Paris to be

just as much trouble
now as when he's awake.

You knew this might happen.

Why complain about it?

If you had even the
slightest sense of humor,

you'd realize I was
making a small joke.

Very small.

Give me his vital signs.

Please.

Pulse 42.

Body temperature 97.6.

Blood pressure 100/50.

Good.

I will continue on my rounds.

I think not.

We're paying a visit
to the holodeck.

I have no time
for frivolous pursuits.

This isn't frivolous;
it's essential.

You've been getting more
irritable and short-tempered

- with each passing day.
- So have you.

That's only because I'm
having to put up with you.

I think you need a
little brush-up course

in how to get along with people.

There is no one here
to get along with.

I'm here.

This isn't a suggestion,
and it's not a request.

It's an order.

Try one, Commander.

Thank you, Neelix.

Captain?

Ooh, thank you.

What have we here?

Delicious.

Join the party, Seven.

It's no fun to stand there
by yourself.

I have no desire to have fun.

No?

I'm attempting to recalibrate
the warp field,

in order to resist
the nebula's radiation.

I understand you have some
knowledge of warp field theory.

Perhaps you could assist me.

I'd be happy to give it a try.

Let's see...

the subspace field matrix
looks right...

Captain?

Excuse me a minute.

Perhaps you could help,
as well.

We're attempting to find

a stronger warp
field calibration.

How interesting.

Maybe if we vary
the EM stress parameters,

the warp field dynamic
would increase.

Excellent idea, Captain.

And if the warp coils
were re-phased,

it would increase power
to the nacelles.

There is an additional problem.

We must compensate

for a subspace induction
drag on the engines.

Pardon me, Captain, Mr. Neelix.

Computer, freeze program.

You're completely
missing the point

of this exercise.

You're supposed to be
mixing and mingling,

not working on
engineering problems.

You ordered me to participate
in this program.

You did not specify topics
of conversation.

You're splitting hairs.

You know very well
what purpose

this program is
supposed to serve.

I find that it serves
no purpose whatsoever.

Because you're being
intentionally perverse.

Holodecks are
a pointless endeavor

fulfilling some human need
to fantasize.

I have no such need.

What you need is
some editorial skill

in your self-expression.

Between impulse and
action, there is a realm

of good taste begging
for your acquaintance.

I find your self-expression
ponderous.

And I can't put up with
this for another month.

We can arrange
to avoid one another.

I wish it were that simple.

Unfortunately, you
have to report to me

four times a day, to keep me
informed about the crew.

We can minimize those reports.

Warning.

Emergency procedures in effect.

Computer, what is the nature
of the emergency?

The antimatter storage tanks
are failing.

A cascade effect is in progress.

The warp field coils
are compromised,

primary deuterium
tank is rupturing,

and the plasma conduits
are ready to breach.

This is awful.

We have to eject
the antimatter tanks.

We've got to coordinate
the effort.

You go to Engineering;
I'll go to the Bridge.

Doctor to Seven.

Yes, Doctor.

It's worse than we thought.

Engineering is flooded
with plasma.

You'll never get in.

I believe I can survive
long enough

to eject the assembly.

It's too late!

Sensors show plasma conduits
rupturing

on Decks 7 and 13.

I can doit.

Seven! There's been another
plasma discharge in Engineering!

The hull is breaching.
Get out!

Seven, do you hear me?!

It's all right, Doctor.

False alarm.

Look here.

I think I've found the problem.

There are malfunctions
in a number of neural gel packs.

As a result, false readings
were fed to the sensors,

which detected an emergency
when there was none.

We must repair them.

They seem to be
in sequence six-theta-nine.

We'll need replacement packs
and a repair...

repair kit.

These tubes certainly
weren't designed

with creature comfort
in mind.

It seems to me the shipbuilders
should've created a space

in which one could walk upright.

But they did not.

It doesn't help
to complain about it now.

I'll complain if I want to.

It's comforting.

We can access sequence

six-theta-nine
from this junction.

Odd.

I've never seen this kind
of neural activity

in the gel packs.

In what sense?

The neurodes are discharging
in random bursts.

I would imagine the nebular
activity is causing it.

I'll take this back
to Sick Bay for further study.

I will reroute
the command processors

to bypass this series.

This journey certainly
hasn't lacked excitement.

I can't complain
about being bored.

Since you find it comforting,
you'll undoubtedly

find something else
to complain about.

No doubt.

You really should try it.

What's happening?

My... My program is degrading.

The mobile emitter?

I don't know.

I have to get back to Sick Bay.

Hurry!

I am hurrying.

If the mobile emitter
goes off-line

while I'm out of Sick Bay,
my program may be irretrievable!

Don't panic.
It's counterproductive.

That's easy for you to say.

You're not facing
cybernetic oblivion.

Doctor...

If that happens again,
I'm a goner.

Home, sweet Sick Bay.

I never thought I'd be so glad
to see these walls.

Give me the emitter.

The electro-optic
modulator is damaged.

You're right.
It's worthless.

There's no way I can
risk using it now.

I'm stuck here.

The nebula is having
a deleterious effect

on all the ship's technology.

And we still have weeks to go.

It's up to you to keep
the ship running.

We can't afford to break
down in this nebula.

I won't disappoint you.

0600 hours.

Regeneration sequence complete.

Personal Log, Seven of Nine,
Stardate 51932.4.

The 29th day
in the Mutara nebula.

I believe I am beginning
to feel the effects

of this prolonged isolation.

My dreams have been...

disturbing...

but I am determined
to fulfill my responsibilities.

With the Doctor confined
to Sick Bay,

I have taken on
increasing duties.

The ship's systems
are beginning to require

constant maintenance
in order to avert disaster.

This morning, I must purge
the auxiliary plasma vents.

End log.

Computer, trim heading
by .31 degrees port.

Computer, respond.

Computer, trim heading
by .31 degrees port.

Attempting to make correction.

Please stand by.

Attempting to make correction.

Unable to comply.

Manual override.

Computer, initiate
a level 4 diagnostic

of your command processors.

Diagnostic in progress.

Astrometrics.

Diagnostic complete.

Analyze.

Quantum failures are present in
33 percent of gel pack relays.

Reroute all functional relays

through subprocessor
chi-one-four.

Rerouting complete.

Relay failures bypassed.

Display Voyager's current
position within the nebula.

How long to complete passage
through the nebula?

Six days, five hours.

Six days.

Seven...

help!

Proximity alert.

Vessel approaching.

The vessel is hailing.

Open a channel.

Channel open.

This is the Federation
Starship Voyager.

State your identity.

I'm Trajis Lo-Tarik.

I'm in need
of a microfusion chamber.

Would you consider a trade?

Why are you in this nebula?

Trying to get through it,
as I imagine you are.

Do you have liquid helium?

You're fortunate.

I have an ample supply.

I'll beam you directly
to our cargo bay.

Seven of Nine--

that's an unusual name.

How did you get it?

It was my Borg designation.

Borg?

Never heard of them.

Are you alone on this ship?

No. The entire crew
is here in stasis

and our Doctor is in Sick Bay.

I'm both pilot and crew
on my ship.

Fortunately, I happen
to be resistant

to the effects of the nebula.

What about your technology?

The radiation is causing
damage to ours.

I've had to rebuild
my engines twice already.

If you've been in the nebula
for three weeks,

you're doing well.

I am hopeful
our propulsion system

will remain operational
for the next six days.

I'll admit I was surprised

to find another ship
headed toward me.

No one has ever managed
to cross the nebula.

If it weren't necessary,
we wouldn't be attempting it.

I'm here by choice.

I'm determined to be
the first to get through.

I've tried five times
before and failed,

but this time
I'm sure I'll make it.

I want to see
what's on the other side.

It is nothing remarkable.

But I'll be the first
of my kind to see it.

Tell me, how are you handling
the loneliness?

What do you mean?

You know what I mean.

No matter what you say...

you're all alone here.

The microfusion chamber
you requested.

I've heard the drones
can't stand being alone.

They're too used
to the collective.

How could you know that?

It's true, isn't it?

You said you'd never
heard of the Borg.

Don't be offended.

I've no grudge with them.

You have what you
asked for; now leave.

I thought we could keep
each other company for awhile,

maybe have something to eat.

No.

And if I want to stay longer?

You will not be accommodated.

There's no need
for this, you know.

I mean you no harm.

I think maybe
you're a little paranoid.

That's what loneliness
can do to you.

You'd be a lot better off
to spend some time with me.

We could get to know each other.

Quiet.

Seven!

Help me!

Seven!

Seven of Nine to the Doctor.

We have an intruder on board.

He must have a cloaking device.

Sensors show
no alien life signs

and no evidence of a ship.

I've been working
on my mobile emitter.

I think I'm making progress,

but I still
can't leave Sick Bay.

You'll have to try
to track him down.

Arm yourself,
and use extreme caution.

Warning.

Deuterium tank levels

are fluctuating
beyond acceptable tolerances.

The computer sounds
like it needs a stimulant.

It has been experiencing
relay failures.

I have not been performing
my maintenance duties.

Do what you have to,

but keep an eye out
for the alien.

We have to assume
he's up to no good.

Seven...

are you... frightened?

I am Borg.

Who's there?

Seven.

Help me.

Seven.

I'm dying, Seven.

Don't let me die.

The lives of the crew
are on your shoulders.

Seven, help me.

Help, Seven.

I need help.

We need you, Seven.

I'm dying, Seven.

Seven of Nine.

That's an unusual name.

How did you get it?

Don't want to answer me?

That's all right.
I don't mind.

I know you're
not yourself today.

But you might be interested
in what I'm doing now.

I know your sensors
can't detect me,

so if you want to know where
I am, you'll have to ask.

Playing stubborn?

That's a mistake.

It could lead
to an unfortunate accident.

Just to prove I'm willing
to give you a fair chance,

I'll ask you: What would happen

if the structural integrity
around the warp coils collapsed?

You wouldn't have much time
to keep them from rupturing.

I couldn't bring myself
to destroy your ship.

I hope you're not
afraid of the dark.

Where are you?

Finally.
I'm glad you're responding.

It's going to be
much more interesting

if we play this game together.

Your location.

A long way from you,
on the Bridge--

command center of your ship,
I believe.

I can do just about anything
from here.

Seven! Help!

Seven to Trajis.

Are you still there?

Of course.

Do you think I'd leave now?

I am enjoying this game.

What's next?

That's better.

Well, let's just imagine

that one of the photon torpedoes
was activated

but not ejected.

I would have to get
to the torpedo bay quickly.

And even then,
you might be too late,

but, of course, you have to try.

Let's play another game.

Let's imagine
that the oxygen on the Bridge

has been depleted.

What?

What do you suppose
the results might be?

Computer, seal the Bridge
with a level-3 force field.

Bridge sealed.

Seven of Nine to the Doctor.

I'm here.

I have incapacitated the alien.

He will not trouble us again.

Good work.

I have my mobile emitter
back on line.

Where are you now?

In Engineering.

I'll be right there.

I have interesting news
about the neural gel packs.

Acknowledged.

In your heart,
you knew you'd see me again.

You can't defeat me.

You're too weak.

Don't come any closer.

You couldn't stand being alone,
could you?

You felt vulnerable, afraid,

because you know
what you are.

Stop.

At first, you thought
you could become human,

but now you know that's
impossible, don't you?

You're Borg.

That's what you're meant to be--

one of many.

But your days of power are gone.

You're all alone now...

weak, pathetic.

Don't come any closer.
I'll kill you.

Seven?

Be careful, Doctor!
He's dangerous!

Who are you talking to?

Where did he go?

There's no one else here.

He was.
He was right here.

Seven...

you're hallucinating.

No, I saw him!

There was no one else
in this room.

You mean I imagined him.

Yes.

I heard Lieutenant Paris
call for help.

I saw him and the others.

Did I imagine them, as well?

I believe so.

When I studied the gel pack,

I discovered the radiation
was producing a degradation

in the synaptic relays.

I'm guessing there's
been a similar effect

on your Borg implants.

The radiation

could be altering
the neurotransmitter levels

in your sensory nodes.

That would explain why
you're hearing voices...

seeing images.

But they seemed real.

Hallucinations usually are.

That's what makes
them so frightening.

Once, when I was a drone...

I was separated from
the collective for two hours.

I experienced panic...

and apprehension.

I am feeling that way now.

I'll do everything
I can to help you.

We'll get you to Sick Bay.

An anti-psychotic may help--
at least until I determine

just what neural functions
are being affected.

What was that?

Warning.

Primary EPS conduits
are overloading.

I tied my mobile emitter
into the EPS conduits.

Computer, access
the EPS conduits.

Unable to comply.

My program's going off-line.

No!

Warning.

Primary EPS conduits
overloading.

Secondary systems are failing.

Seven, you've got to hang on.

Repair the EPS conduits.

Everything depends on you now.

I cannot function alone.

You have to.

You're the only way
we can survive.

No!

Display Voyager's current
position within the nebula.

It doesn't matter.

You won't make it.

Computer, how long before
Voyager is out of the nebula?

17 hours, 11 minutes.

That's an eternity.

Go away.

You can try to shut me out,
but it won't work.

Warning.

Propulsion system failure
in progress.

Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct
of Unimatrix Zero One.

You have left the collective.

It was a foolish decision.

Now you are alone.

You have lost the many;
you are only one.

You have become human,
weak, pathetic.

Humans do not have
our strength.

They are imperfect.

Now you are imperfect as well.

No.

You will not survive.

You cannot survive
without the collective.

1 will adapt.

By becoming weaker,
less perfect.

1 will adapt as an individual.

One. One alone.

A Borg cannot be one.

I will become stronger.

A Borg cannot be one.

She will die as one--

weak, detached, isolated.

One Borg cannot survive.

I am an individual.

I will survive alone.

No. You are weak.

You will die

alone.

He's right.

You're in pain, Seven.

I can help you.

Bridge.

You don't have to beg me.

You don't even have to ask.

All you have to do
is make a choice.

I can survive alone.

That's where you belong.

No.

End your pain.

Just walk through that door,

and you'll never be alone again.

It's not real.

Seven of Nine,

resistance is futile.

Bridge!

Seven of Nine.

You look a little
worse for wear.

I didn't know
she was still on board.

I never wanted her here
in the first place.

She won't be here long.

She can't survive alone.

I'm taking bets
on how long she'll last.

She'll fall apart
before we leave the nebula.

And then everybody will die.

Well, blame me.
I put my trust in her.

I should've known better.

Warning. Propulsion system
failure in progress.

What is she doing now?

She's trying to keep
the engines on line.

Place your bets.

Anybody think she can do it?

I'll lay odds she can't.

Computer, how long until

the ship is out of the nebula?

41 minutes.

Too long.
She won't make it.

That's an eternity.

Computer, reroute
available power from weapons,

sensors and environmental
controls to the engines.

Warning. Propulsion system
failure in progress.

Reroute all available power
to the engines.

Propulsion systems have failed.

All engines are off-line.

She's got herself
a real problem now.

I'll say.

She's taken power
from every available system,

and it's still not enough.

But if she fails
to get the ship moving,

everyone on board will die.

What do you think she'll do?

I know what she's thinking.

She's thinking
if she could take power

from the stasis units
on Deck 14, she might be able

to get those engines
back on line.

But that would mean
sacrificing some of the crew.

I don't think that would
bother her too much.

What matters to Seven
is efficiency.

Sacrificing a few to save many
would be an efficient plan.

She's already killed millions;
would a few more matter?

Computer, divert power from
stasis units 1 through 10,

and reroute
to the propulsion systems.

Engines are back on line.

Resume course.

Look at that.
She did it!

But those people
she disconnected

are going to die.

I win. I knew she didn't
care about them.

Come to watch them die?

Warning.

Power to stasis units
has failed.

Computer, how long to complete
passage through the nebula?

11 minutes.

They won't last that long.

What do you do now, Seven?

It's all up to you.

Computer, cut life support
to all decks

and reroute available power
to the stasis units.

That will keep them alive,
but what about you?

No oxygen, no heat.

Good-bye, Seven.

I am Seven of Nine.

I am alone...

but I will adapt.

I will...

She's coming to.

Not so fast.

Get your bearings first.

The crew?

We came through the nebula
in fine shape, thanks to you.

You were the one
we almost lost.

When the ship cleared
the nebula,

the Doctor came back on line
and found you unconscious.

He reinitiated life support
and woke the crew.

He tells us you've had
quite an adventure.

It was...

...interesting.

Well, when you're rested,
I'd like to hear about it.

I'm proud of you, Seven.

You performed admirably.

I am glad I was able to help.

Neelix, this soup is great.

What is it?

It's my secret recipe.

I've never told anyone
what's in it.

Why does that make me nervous?

Oh, come on, Tom.

Where's your sense of adventure?

Not in my stomach.

Food and mystery
don't go together.

I like to know what I'm eating.

Coward.

Lieutenants Paris
and Torres, Ensign Kim.

Seven. I'm surprised
to see you here.

May I join you?

Sure. Have a seat.

Have some soup.

It's actually edible.

I don't require nourishment
at this time.

felt the need for companionship.

Well, after a month
with only the Doc for company,

I can understand it.

Yeah. Uh, what was that like,
anyway--

just the two of you?

The Doctor was very helpful.
I cannot fault him.

Well, we owe you one.

Yeah.

Just think,

we could've died
in those coffins.

I suspect you would've
found a way out

before that, Lieutenant.

What do you mean?

Lieutenant Paris refused
to stay confined.

On four separate occasions,
the Doctor and I

had to put him back
into his stasis unit.

Were you, um, locked
in dark closets

or something as a child?

I just don't like closed places.

I never have.

I don't know why.

Perhaps you dislike being alone.