All language subtitles for Star Trek - Voyager - S05E18 - Course - Oblivion.en

Are you sure this rice
isn't supposed to be cooked?

Steamed, fried?

The idea is to shower
the couple with a symbol

of good fortune, not garnish
them like a roast chicken.

Smile.

Rice, anyone?

I'll take one.

Red Alert.

Ready?

This is it, Tom.

Your bachelor days are over.

Not a moment too soon.

Second thoughts?

Second, third, fourth...

I never thought I'd see the day.

Given the volatile nature

of their relationship,
one might have

predicted homicide
rather than matrimony.

When it comes to affairs
of the human heart,

it is wise to look beyond logic.

We're gathered here today

not as Starfleet officers,
but as friends and family

to celebrate the marriage
of two of Voyager's finest.

B'Elanna has asked me to forego
the rigors of Klingon painstiks

in favor of a more
traditional ceremony.

They're saving the painstiks
for the honeymoon.

As Captain,

the honor of joining these
two people has fallen to me,

but before I declare them
husband and wife,

Tom and B'Elanna
have prepared their own vows.

I still don't know what
I've done to deserve you...

but whatever it is,
I'll try to keep doing it,

and I promise to stand by you,

to honor you...

till death do us part.

Ensign.

Hmm?

The ring.

Oh.

May this ring be a symbol
of our eternal love.

You stood by me...

when most people would have
run for the nearest airlock.

You were willing to see past
my shortcomings...

and to take
all the bumps and bruises

that came along with it.

You made me a better person...

even though I put up
one hell of a fight.

I look forward
to our journey together.

Commander.

May this ring be the symbol
of our eternal love.

Not so fast.

Lieutenant
Thomas Eugene Paris...

Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres,

with the power vested in me
by Starfleet Command

and the United
Federation of Planets,

I now pronounce you
husband and wife.

Now, Tom.

Bravo.

Congratulations.

For what?

You may not want to know.

Captain's Log, Stardate 52586.3.

We've had a lot
to celebrate lately--

Tom and B'Elanna's wedding,
Ensign Harper's new baby

and the continued health
of our enhanced warp drive,

which has taken us within
striking distance of home.

In this case, the shortest path
is a straight line.

We'll pass right through
the center of the Milky Way.

And be in Sector 001
within two years.

More or less.

You had Seven double-check
the calculations?

Two years, 11 days, six hours,

provided we continue to operate
at peak efficiency.

Naturally.

Of course, if we operate
at peak efficiency,

we'll be missing some
interesting phenomena

along the way--

an anomalous gradient
to the curvature of space,

unusual bioharmonic readings
from a binary system

we'll reach
about six months from now.

And the scientist in you can't
resist stopping to take a look.

It would only add another
two or three months.

Do you think
the crew would mutiny?

On the contrary.

Everyone'll jump at the chance

for some last-minute
exploration.

Everyone...

except Seven.

Let your First Officer

deal with
the personnel problems.

Here's a lovely program

modeled
after a mountain resort

on the fifth moon of Cytrax--

just you, B'Elanna
and the crickets.

Crickets?

Cytraxian crickets.

Their song is reputed to be
an auditory aphrodisiac.

Aha. Well, between you and me--

B'Elanna and I
don't need aphrodisiacs.

There's always the beaches
of Ahmedeen-- windsurfing

on a sea of liquid argon.

I was hoping for someplace
a little more down-to-earth.

Well, it's your honeymoon.

Just how down-to-earth
did you mean?

Earth.

I was thinking

Chicago in the roaring '20s--

speakeasies, flappers,
the Charleston.

If that's what you want.

Why? Is there a problem?

No, of course not,
it's just that we're

so close to Earth anyway,

I thought you might want to try
something a little more exotic.

Let me let you in
on a little secret, Neelix.

Earth has the best vacation
spots in the galaxy.

It's got the cultures,
the climates,

the history, the people.

It has everything
you ever want in a planet.

You sound
like a travel brochure.

No. No. Just a native.

Oh, and make sure
the deuterium manifold's

are never opened wider
than 600 microns.

I am familiar
with the specifications.

Are you familiar
with how temperamental

the isolytic converter can be?

Yes.

Most important,
the enhanced warp drive--

with the dilithium matrix
running hot all the time now,

you have to watch it
like a hawk.

There is no point
in providing me

with knowledge
I already possess.

I guess I am being
a little overcautious.

I've just, uh, never
been away from Engineering

for more
than a couple of days...

certainly never a week.

My engineering abilities
are more than sufficient.

Enjoy your honeymoon.

You may understand
the iso-dynamics of this engine,

but I don't think
you understand its personality.

Personality.

It is a propulsion device.

That's my point.

It's not just a device.

It-it has its own quirks,
its own... its own moods.

That's just a minor fluctuation
in a subsidiary injector port.

I will take care of it.

I'm going with you.

Lieutenant, you are on leave.

Not for another 20 minutes.

So, who's the lucky guy?

You caught the bouquet.

That means you're next
in line for the altar.

Yes, the Doctor informed me

of that archaic
human superstition.

How about Harry Kim?

I fail to see the benefit
of monogamous relationships.

So you want to stay single?

If you mean remain open
to social situations

with a wide variety
of individuals,

then yes.

I'm married--
I'm not going into stasis

for the rest of my life.

No, I plan to have...

I do not wish to be
dependent on anyone.

By marrying, one limits
one's romantic interactions

to a single individual--

a circumstance which
implies extreme monotony.

I'm glad we had
this little talk.

Try the manual release.

I thought you said
it was a minor fluctuation.

This entire Jefferies tube

is losing
molecular cohesion.

I guess the honeymoon's off.

It's our warp field.

The enhanced drive is emitting

some form
of subspace radiation

that's affecting
Voyager's infrastructure.

It's beginning to break down

the molecular bonds
in all surrounding sections.

We're seeing
early stages of the effect

in the warp core--

reaction chamber,
injector ports--

they're all showing signs
of de-cohesion.

It doesn't make any sense.

We knew all about
the subspace radiation

and we ran
dozens of simulations

before we brought the new drive
on line.

Have you tried taking
the core off-line?

It's not stopping the problem.

Try to isolate
the cause of this.

And stabilize the sections
that have already been affected.

Dismissed.

Computer.

Begin Chief Engineer's Log,
supplemental.

I've spent the last four hours

analyzing
the warp field schematics,

but I'm still no closer to
finding out what's going wrong.

Computer, did it
just get colder in here?

Negative.

Raise the temperature
by five degrees.

Hungry?

Ah, can't join you tonight--

dinner with B'Elanna.

Married one day
and you're already domesticated.

Jealous?

Night, Harry.

B'Elanna?

If we're going to live together,

we're going to have to
compromise on the temperature.

Computer, reset environmental
controls to standard.

B'Elanna?

Shh.

Bring her in, quickly.

It looks like we've got
an epidemic on our hands.

Acute cellular degradation?

Their chromosomes
are breaking down

at the molecular level.

Proximity to the warp field.

I believe so.

B'Elanna
and my other three patients

all work in Engineering.

They've been subjected
to the heaviest exposure,

but preliminary scans suggest

the rest of the crew has
been affected as well...

including the Captain.

It's only a matter of time
before you begin

showing the same symptoms.

We've shut down the warp drive,

but the ship is
still deteriorating,

and so are we.

Why?

Every bulkhead and conduit
from Deck 1to 156

show signs
of molecular de-cohesion.

Even food from the replicator
shows signs of decay.

As soon as anything
comes into contact

with Voyager's atmosphere,
it's affected.

That's what we
thought at first,

but take a look at this.

These vegetables are
completely free of decay.

I thought you said
the replicators...

They weren't replicated.

I harvested them
on an away mission last week.

The same goes
for these particle accelerators,

the trilithium ore samples,
the keg of Hazari ale.

All of them were brought aboard
over the last few months

and none of them
is disintegrating.

We haven't been able to narrow
the time frame precisely,

but it appears that anything

brought onboard over the past
30 to 40 weeks is immune.

Something happened
to the ship months ago

that's causing this decay.

A logical conclusion.

Eight months, 17 days ago--

first contact with the Kmada.

They tried to sabotage
our life-support systems

with low-frequency
theta radiation.

Any chance that could have
caused the phenomenon?

Unlikely.

Let's keep looking.

The next event of note
took place

nine months, two days ago
when the N'Kree

tried to conscript Voyager
into their battle fleet.

And failed.

Next?

Hey.

Hey.

How's my old lady?

Well enough...

to break your nose if
you call me that again.

Here it is.

What?

Our honeymoon.

Tell me.

Six days and seven nights...

in the historic Graystone Hotel

in beautiful downtown
Chicago, circa 1928.

Uh, wait till you see it--

crystal chandeliers,

wall-to-wall Italian marble.

We'll take a drive up Michigan
Avenue in a vintage Duesenberg,

hobnob with the stars
of the silver screen,

dance the Charleston
at a genuine speakeasy

called the Green Mill.

What do I wear?

That's already taken care of.

Our bags are packed and waiting
for us at the hotel.

Champagne?

It's on ice...

in a silver bucket...

right next to our canopy bed.

B'Elanna?

Doctor?

Cortical stimulator.

Initiate an iso-synaptic pulse.

It's not working.

Again!

Increase the electrolytic levels
to 75 millijoules.

We've lost her.

Increasing electrolytic levels

to 90 millijoules.

There's nothing more we can do.

Uh, maybe we can try
a direct neural resequencing.

Lieutenant...

We can't just let her die!

Return to your quarters.

No!

I don't want to leave her.

I understand,

but I need
to perform an analysis

before her cells have
completely degraded.

Please.

Nine months, 28 days.

We collected silicate
from a comet

in the Podaris sector.

According to Neelix's manifest,

those samples are stored
in the geology lab.

They're showing no signs
of molecular degradation.

Take us further back.

Ten months, 11 days ago.

Voyager was forced to land

on a Class-Y planetoid
in the Vaskan sector.

The Demon-Class planet...

one of our more
interesting missions.

We set down looking
for deuterium and ended up

helping a new form of life
to be born.

The planet possessed
a biomimetic compound.

The "silver blood."

It sampled our DNA
and created duplicates

of the entire crew.

I've often wondered
what happened to them.

Are they flourishing?

Have they continued to evolve?

Do they still resemble us?

Is she...?

I'm afraid so.

Scan for traces of deuterium,

hydrogen sulfate
and dichromates.

Dichromates?

Just do it.

What's this about?

We have a disturbing theory.

I'm detecting
all of those compounds.

I want you to inject her
with a dichromate catalyst.

Commander?

We've got to be sure.

I don't understand.

That wasn't B'Elanna.

It was a duplicate...

a biomimetic copy.

Copy?

We are all duplicates.

None of us are real.

Behold the primordial soup.

That's what created us.

Not just us.

The entire ship is composed
of the same material.

It's a biomimetic compound

that duplicated the crew's
molecular structure so precisely

that I would never
have detected it

if hadn't known
what to look for.

I was born on Earth...
in Indiana.

I remember growing up there.

I remember graduating
from the Academy.

I have no memory
of being a copy.

Apparently, the original
Kathryn Janeway's memories

were duplicated as well.

Somehow,
after the real Voyager left,

we began to forget
we were duplicates.

Eventually,
we assumed their lives

and set a course for Earth.

And now the warp core

is breaking down
our cellular structure.

We didn't think
the radiation would hurt us,

because it isn't harmful
to humanoids.

Each and every one of you

will disintegrate
just as B'Elanna did.

I'm not immune, either.

The holo-emitters, like
everything else, are copies.

It's only a matter of time

before my program begins
to degrade.

What can we do
to stop the process?

There is one option.

Go back.

To the Demon-Class planet?

We were created
to survive there.

He's correct.

It's reasonable to assume

that if we return
to our native environment,

the degradation will cease.

Even if we survived the trip,

we'd be traveling thousands

of light-years
in the wrong direction.

It may be the only way.

Duplicate or not,

I'm still the same person
I was yesterday,

and so are all of you...

and that means we're going
to do everything possible

to complete our mission,
which is to reach Earth.

Is that clear?

- Yes, ma'am.
- l want you

to adjust
the environmental controls

to simulate a Class-Y planet.

That should slow the rate
of degradation.

It's only a matter of time
before the environmental

controls themselves
are affected.

I realize that.

That's why we're going
to try and find a safe harbor

till we can figure out a way
to stop the degradation.

Scan for the nearest
Class-Y planet and set a course.

In the meantime...

I'll explain our situation
to the crew.

There's still a great deal
we don't know

about this phenomenon,

and I have every confidence
we'll find a way to reverse it.

So you're saying
all our experiences

before we were duplicated--
none of it's real?

I don't pretend to understand it
myself, Harry...

but the way I choose
to look at it is this--

if everything
about us was duplicated,

that includes
our memory engrams,

the emotional centers
of our brain.

So, if you feel something...

remember something...

believe something...

I'm not about to tell you
it's not real.

But there is another crew
out there, right?

The real Voyager.

I suppose there is,
but I don't want that thought

to distract any of you
from our mission.

What mission is that?

The same
as it's always been, Tom--

to reach the Alpha Quadrant
safe and sound,

but to do that,

we're going to have
to beat this problem...

and for now,
that means conserving energy,

running the ship in gray mode,
cutting crew shifts in half.

The less you exert yourselves,
the slower the cellular decay.

Duplicates or not...

you're still my crew.

Dismissed.

Tom...

There's no one
here by that name.

I just wanted to say...

I'm sorry about B'Elanna.

Sorry?

What for?

She was your wife.

She was a duplicate...

just like you are, Harry.

You heard the Captain.

If we're going to survive this,

we've got to believe
in ourselves.

You can drop
the good soldier routine.

You don't have to do everything
the Captain says anymore.

Hell, she's not
even the Captain.

She is to me.

Okay. Well, let's suppose
she does get us back to Earth.

What then?

You really think your family

is going to welcome
you with open arms?

I don't know.

For all you know,
the real Harry Kim

is having Sunday dinner
with them right now.

And you come strolling
through the door,

they're going to see you

for exactly what you
are-- an impostor.

So what are we going to do, huh?

Wait around
till we all disintegrate?

Come in.

Chicken paprikash--
my grandmother's recipe.

Well, maybe not my grandmother,
but it's still delicious.

It's our weekly dinner together.

Don't tell me you forgot.

We've lost three more people.

We've got to head back.

I've spent the past five years
trying to get this crew home.

I'm not about to quit now.

Listen to yourself.

You haven't even been alive
for five years.

Home is a Class-Y planet
in the Delta Quadrant.

We don't belong on Earth.

How do you know where we belong?

For all we know,

the real Voyager's
been destroyed

and we're all that's left.

For all we know,

we're supposed
to be living their lives.

That's a pretty big
assumption...

and it's putting this crew
in danger.

There's only one thing
I know how to be, Chakotay,

and that's Kathryn Janeway.

I'd like to think

I know Captain Janeway
pretty well myself,

and as much as she'd like
to get her crew home,

I don't think she'd be willing
to kill them in the process.

Maybe this dinner wasn't
such a good idea after all.

I've tried everything
I can think of--

bio-molecular enhancers,

gene splicing
with replicated DNA--

and I'm no closer
to finding a cure.

But I do have an idea.

I'm listening.

Find the original Voyager.

If the real Captain Janeway
were here,

we could sample her DNA

and imprint it
onto your mimetic pattern.

But, Doctor, we have no way
of knowing where they are.

They could be behind
us, ahead of us,

back on Earth...
destroyed.

Besides, even if we could
find the real Janeway,

how do we know she'd help?

She's you.

My emitter's
starting to degrade.

You better get back to Sick Bay.

Tuvok to the Captain.

Sensors have detected
a Class-Y planet.

On my way.

It may not be home,
but it checks out.

Thermionic radiation...

surface temperatures in
excess of 500 kelvins.

Just what the Doctor ordered.

Safe harbor?

There's no guarantee
this is going to work.

Harry, vent all plasma
from the nacelles.

Transfer available power
to atmospheric thrusters

and stand by to commence
landing sequence.

Yes, ma'am.

Red Alert.

Landing struts on line.

Inertial dampers at maximum.

Take us down, Mr. Paris.

Captain, a vessel is approaching

from the planet's surface.

On screen.

They're hailing.

Open a channel.

You're in direct violation
of the Ord'Mirit Mining Treaty.

Leave orbit
or you'll be destroyed.

They are firing weapons.

This is Captain Kathryn Janeway

of the Federation
Starship Voyager.

We are not your enemy.

They seem to disagree.

We're not interested
in your mining operation.

Our ship is badly damaged.

We need to set down
on the surface to make repairs.

We repeat:
Leave or be destroyed.

Shields down to 52 percent.

With our systems degrading,

we won't be able
to take this much longer.

Target their weapon systems.

Fire.

No effect.

Hull breaches
on Decks 11, 14 and 15.

The damaged sections are turning
into biomimetic matter.

Containment fields are failing.

Evacuate those decks.

If we emit a polaron burst,
we can disable their shields

long enough to target
their warp core.

No. We're not going
to destroy them

over a misunderstanding.

Either that or retreat.

We're Starfleet officers.

We can't forget that.

Break orbit.

That planet may be our
last chance for survival.

We'll have to find
another option.

I'm not sure why we're
still taking orders from you.

Lieutenant, follow orders
or leave the Bridge.

The alien vessel's not pursuing.

Begin scanning
for other Class-Y planets.

Harry, transmit a distress call
on all subspace bands.

If the real Voyager
is out there,

I want to find them.

In the meantime,

which direction
do you want me to go?

Resume course for the Alpha
Quadrant, Mr. Paris.

I know what you're going to say
and I don't want to hear it.

Too bad.

I'm willing to take a
little insolence from Tom,

but I shouldn't have
to remind you

that I'm still the Captain.

You're not.

You're a biomimetic life-form
created in her image.

Are you saying you're not taking
orders from me anymore?

I'm saying
you need to step back

and look at our situation
objectively.

You think I should
have given the order

to fire on that vessel.

No. I agreed with your
decision to stand down,

but how long can we adhere
to Starfleet principles

before we start making
compromises?

As long as it takes.

Our ship may be deteriorating,

but our humanity is intact.

Belief alone won't hold
this ship together.

It's gotten us this far.

Not far enough.

Tom and I aren't the only ones
who question your decisions.

Now that the truth is known,

a lot of people think
we should turn around

and head for the Class-Y planet.

They're starting to remember
their existence before Voyager.

What?

What existence?

Pools of biomimetic fluid?

We didn't even experience
sentience

until Voyager came along.

What good is sentience

if we're not alive
to experience it?

Kathryn, we've got to go back.

I promised the crew
I'd get them home.

Home isn't Earth.

Janeway to Sick Bay.
Medical emergency.

He's not responding.

His neural pathways
are destabilizing.

We've lost Commander Chakotay.

Duplicate or not,
he was real to me...

and he was
a fine Starfleet officer.

And...

he was a friend...

who...

wasn't afraid to let me know
when I am wrong.

Mr. Kim,

bring the enhanced
warp drive on line.

Turn Voyager around.

We're going home.

Captain...

Set a course...

for the Demon planet.

Captain's Log, supplemental.

We've lost 63 crewmen, and our
systems are continuing to fail.

Though we're still five weeks
away from the Demon planet,

we haven't given up hope.

The holographic projectors
in Sick Bay

went off-line at 0300.

We've lost the Doctor.

What's Tom's condition?

No change.

Well... hmm...

looks like we're in the market
for a new medical officer.

Feel up to it, Neelix?

I've only been trained
as a field medic.

It'll have to do.

What about my other duties?

Make Sick Bay your priority.

At this point...

morale is a luxury.

How's the core holding up?

The modified nanoprobes are

still reinforcing
the warp field.

It should remain functioning
until we reach the Demon planet.

However, there is less
than a 20 percent probability

that Voyager will remain intact
that long.

Well...

it won't be the first time
this crew has been...

up against...

Captain?

It's all right. I'm just...

a little tired.

Let Ensign Kim
take command for a while.

I'm still the Captain.

And I am
the Chief Medical Officer.

Don't force me
to relieve you of your duties.

Your concerns have been noted...
sir.

Now...

there is another matter.

I want to download
the ship's database...

and our personal logs
into a signal beacon.

In the event we don't survive,

there should be some record
of our accomplishments.

A time capsule.

This crew's existence
may have been brief...

but it's been distinguished.

None of you...

deserves to be forgotten.

I will use unaffected components
to construct a beacon.

The deflector's off-line.

Interstellar dust is
contaminating the warp field.

Purge it.

I can't.

The exhaust manifolds
have disintegrated.

We've come too far
to be stopped by dust.

Reroute auxiliary power
to the deflector.

Warp field failure in eight...

seven...

SiX...

five...

four...

three...

Got it.

Reinitializing the deflector.

The warp field has stabilized.

I may not be
morale officer anymore,

but I think this is
a cause for celebration.

What do you say, Captain?

Captain?

She's gone.

Acting Captain's Log,
Stardate 52597 .4.

Our situation's getting worse
every day.

More than 80 percent
of the ship is uninhabitable.

Most of the crew are gone.

It seems less and less likely
that the few of us left

will reach our destination.

Computer, hull status.

Hull integrity at 45 percent.

What was that?

Cargo Bay 2 has decompressed.

Seal off that deck.

Computer, erect a level-10
force field around the Bridge.

Unable to comply.

Seven...

I need more power up here.

The bulkheads are coming apart.

I'm transferring the last
of our power reserves.

Deck 1 force field is in place.

That's better.

How's life support?

Degrading.

We have approximately
ten hours of air remaining.

What about the time capsule?

It's ready for launch.

Do it.

The launch sequencer
has misfired.

Reset the initiator;
try it again.

It won't work.

The launch mechanism is
demolecularized.

Salvage the probe.

It's too late.

It's been destroyed.

Personal logs...

mission logs...

all our history...

gone.

Now what?

I'm detecting a vessel...

22 light-years away.

I see it.

I'm trying to hail them.

The subspace transceiver's
malfunctioning.

If they move out of range,
they won't see us.

We still have
one active com circuit,

but we'll have to go
to impulse to use it.

Seven, drop out of warp.

The engine controls are fused.

Then unfuse them.

Without an isolytic converter,
I cannot comply.

Dump the core.

Ensign, dropping out of warp
at this velocity

could tear the ship apart.

We're already falling apart.

We're not going to make it

to the Class-Y planet
in one piece,

which means that ship is
our only hope.

Think about it.

What would Captain Janeway
have done?

Computer, prepare to eject
the warp core.

Authorization: Seven of Nine-
omedga-phi-nine-three.

Warp ejection systems enabled.

Eject the core.

We've lost
attitude control and shields.

Hull integrity at 19 percent.

Reroute life support!

Hell, reroute everything
we've got left

to the containment fields.

Hull breaches
on Decks 9, 10 and 11.

Seven.

Seven!

Computer...

how long until we're within
hailing range of that ship?

F-f-f-five minutes
and 30 seconds.

F-f-f-five minutes and
30 seconds.

Range?

Five million kilometers.

Try hailing again.

No response.

Captain, I've found the source
of the distress call.

It's coming from a vessel.

Can you identify it?

No. The readings are erratic.

Looks like they've taken
heavy damage.

400,000 kilometers.

Drop to impulse.
Are the rescue teams ready?

Bridge to Sick Bay.
Stand by for casualties.

In visual range.

On screen.

Where's the ship?

No sign of it.

That debris... that couldn't be
all that's left.

I'm detecting residual
deuterium, antineutrons,

traces of dichromates.

If it was a vessel,
it isn't anymore.

Scan for life signs,
escape pods.

None.

Make a note
in the ship's record--

we received a distress
call at 0900 hours.

Arrived at the vessel's
last known coordinates at 2120.

The ship was destroyed.

Cause unknown.

No survivors.

Mr. Paris, resume course.

Aye, sir.