All language subtitles for Star Trek - Voyager - S07E18 - Human Error.en

Feels heavy.

Baby's first tricorder?

Not exactly.

Hmm...

Thank you.

I'm sure she'll love it.

What is it?

A pleenok.

Vulcans use them to train
their infants in primary logic.

Never too early to train
those synapses, eh, Tuvok?

Here, let me see that.

I love a good puzzle.

This one's from Mr. Kim.

Starfleet diapers.

Standard issue.

At least we'll know who to call
if there's a containment breach.

Now that your Borg implants

have been removed,
you might think about

having children
of your own one day.

One day.

I have been considering
some less radical changes

in my personal life.

Such as?

I realize I don't

have a rank, but I would
like to request a uniform.

Consider it done.

The Doctor tells me you don't
need to regenerate anymore.

I can arrange
some quarters for you,

unless you enjoy curling up
in the cargo bay.

A bed would be more comfortable.

Since I arrived on Voyager,

your guidance
has been invaluable.

Thank you, Captain.

All 1 did was chart the course.

You were the one
who made the journey.

Seven.

It's traditional for everyone

to share their best wishes
for the baby.

I thought you might like
to start.

To the newest member
of our crew...

may all her desires be fulfilled

except for one...

so she'll always have
something to strive for.

- Oh, very good.
- Well said.

- Hear, hear.
- Hear, hear.

And may she inherit

a sense of logic
from her mother.

I'll drink to that.

That was strange.

Care to explain?

I wish I could.

Long-range sensors picked up
an energy discharge,

but now it's gone.

There.

There's another one.

They're occurring approximately
5.9 light-years ahead.

- Source?
We're too far

to get a clear reading.

Bridge to Seven of Nine.

Go ahead.

Report to the Astrometrics Lab.

Acknowledged.

Computer, end program.

I wasn't able to find the
cause of the discharges,

but the region ahead contains

unusual amounts
of subspace radiation

and metallic debris.

Vessels?

Not within range,

but I'll have more data
once we move closer.

I see no reason to alter course.

Keep an eye on your sensors.

Yes, Captain.

Now...

on to more pressing matters.

Does B'Elanna suspect anything?

Not a clue.

Good. Mess Hall, 1400 hours.

Be on time; I don't want
to spoil the surprise.

I expect both of you
to show up.

I'll be busy here.

What's wrong, Seven?

No baby showers
in the collective?

I'm sure you can
spare a few minutes.

If it's any consolation,

I share your discomfort
with social gatherings.

They seem to occur
with alarming frequency.

Mr. Neelix would argue
that they improve morale.

I have been looking for ways
to improve my social skills.

Perhaps I'll attend.

Well, it certainly is,
uh... efficient.

No clutter.

Plenty of room to move around.

Eh, but it's
a little impersonal.

Don't you think?

Explain.

Well, these are your quarters,
Seven.

They should reflect
your individuality.

How about a table
and a couple of chairs?

Give yourself a place to work...

entertain guests.

Uh, try to add a little color.

Uh, uh, photographs, uh,
artwork, knickknacks.

Knickknacks?

Little things,

like the wood carvings
in Ensign Kim's quarters.

I've never been
to Ensign Kim's quarters.

But I suppose I could
replicate some items

and disperse them
throughout the room.

That's a start.

Some people like to display
pictures of family and friends.

There's a photograph
of my parents

in the ship's database.

I'll make a copy
and place it in a frame.

Good, good.

A multispectral starchart
might enhance this bulkhead.

Or a painting.

A painting of a starchart.

I-1 was thinking of something
more abstract,

more, uh, artistic.

Uh, drapes.

Nothing livens up a room
like good window dressing.

Not to mention
the added privacy.

Privacy?

We're in space.

Well, you never know

when we'll be docking
at a crowded spaceport.

But we'll have to make sure
that they match the carpet.

I'm thinking
of a Talaxian mosaic, uh,

tulaberry blue stripes
with an orange inlay...

I appreciate
your aesthetic insights,

but I believe I can
proceed on my own.

Enter.

Am I interrupting?

Please come in.

Love what you've done
with the place.

We're in the process
of decorating.

Maybe this will help.

Consider it a housewarming gift.

It's beautiful.
What is it?

A dreamcatcher.

According to Native
American mythology,

it wards off nightmares.

I'm impressed.

I've familiarized myself
with your culture.

Now that you'll be sleeping
instead of regenerating,

I thought it might
come in handy.

I'm sure it will.

Thank you.

I'll let you two
find a place to hang that.

But it would look perfect
right above the bed.

Pleasant dreams.

It was thoughtful
of you to stop by.

On move-in day?

I wouldn't miss it.

I suppose this makes you
my inaugural guest.

I'd be a negligent host

if I didn't offer you
a beverage.

Tea?

That might be difficult.

No replicator.

Another flaw in the decor.

I'll requisition one

for you first thing tomorrow.

I'd appreciate that, Commander.

Chakotay.

We're off-duty.

We can drop the formalities.

Yes, sir.

I enjoyed your toast today.

You've come a long way.

I hope to see more.

You will.

Good night.

Chakotay.

As you might know,

I've taken an interest
in culinary science.

I'm preparing a meal
tomorrow night,

and I thought perhaps
you could attend...

to evaluate my work.

I'd be happy to.

1900 hours?

I'll bring the wine...
and the furniture.

Then you accept?

It's a date.

Rock-a-bye baby,
in the space dock

When the core blows,
the shuttle will rock

When the hull breaks,
the shuttle will fall

And down will come baby,
shuttle and all...

Are you trying to soothe
the infant or traumatize her?

The lyrics are rather grim,

but it's the melody
they respond to.

I recorded 29 in all,

including a couple
of Klingon lullabies.

My favorite is
"quong vaj Ocht."

"Sleep, Little Warrior."

I could tell by the look
on their faces

that my gift made
quite an impression.

No doubt.

I wish you'd been there.

It was a lovely shower.

Tom and B'Elanna
were disappointed

that you didn't attend.

I was occupied.

Are you experiencing
any shoulder pain?

Yes.

Hmm.

Your biradial clamp is out
of alignment by .3 microns.

I'm afraid it'll have
to be repaired.

Can't you simply extract
the component?

Not if you want to keep
using that arm.

I know it's an inconvenience,
but until we can find a way

to remove
your cybernetic systems,

they'll have to be maintained.

It's a minor procedure.

We might as well
take care of it now.

I prefer to wait.

We'll be done in an hour.

I have research to complete.

Oh.

I suppose we can put it off
until next week's physical.

I also noticed that
your electrolyte levels

are down by 12 percent.

Have you missed any
regeneration cycles?

Last night.

Don't tell me.

More...

research?

This must be some project.

Mind if I ask
what you're working on?

It's complicated.

How do you mean?

My personal life is
none of your concern.

I wasn't aware you
had a personal life.

Report?

It was an energy discharge,
200,000 kilometers starboard.

It produced
a level-9 shock wave.

Some kind of weapon?

Possibly.

Another one, five million
kilometers to port.

A shock wave is approaching.

Full power to the shields.

Our warp field's destabilizing.

I'm detecting another.

Distance: 50,000 kilometers.

Turn our bow
into the wave front.

It'll minimize the damage.

Sorry, Captain,
there wasn't enough time.

We've lost warp drive.

I'm reading another.

Distance:
26 million kilometers.

Too far to pose a threat.

If they are weapons,

they don't seem
to be directed at us.

Or whoever's firing them
is a lousy shot.

Astrometric sensors
recorded the explosions.

I believe it's
a long-range subspace warhead.

The debris in this region

suggests that dozens
have been fired

in the last several weeks.

The warhead destroyed something.

What was it?

It appeared to be
an unmanned probe.

This is all very intriguing,

but I'd just as soon
get out of here

before we cross paths with
another one of these things.

Where do we stand on repairs?

Subspace radiation
from the explosions

is making it difficult
to create a stable warp field.

Lieutenant Torres
estimates 48 hours.

Can you find a way
to detect the warheads

before they emerge
from subspace?

I believe so.

The weapons create
minor gravimetric distortions

as they approach
the subspace barrier,

but I'll need to recalibrate
my sensors

to isolate the effect.

Do it. Even a few seconds'
warning would help us.

Yes, Captain.

Your duty shift doesn't
begin for two hours.

The Doctor sent me
to relieve you early.

He wants you to spend
more time regenerating.

I see he's enlisted an ally.

"Don't kill the messenger."

It's Sophocles-- Oedipus Rex.

I've been studying
Earth literature

as a part
of my Academy training.

Continue these scans
of the subspace barrier.

Look for any
gravimetric distortions.

Run another diagnostic
on the injector ports.

Make sure they're aligned.

They're aligned.
I checked.

Check again.

Come to join the fun?

We're trying to cold-start
the warp core...

for the 15th time.

Perhaps this will
enhance your day.

It's a belated gift
for your baby shower.

I apologize for my absence.

Oh.

Proceed.

They're lined
with biothermal insulation.

Your infant's feet
will be protected,

even if the external
temperature drops

below minus 40 degrees Celsius.

Well, they're certainly unique.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

I wish to ask you
a personal question.

Shoot.

You have an appealing coiffure.

What is your grooming regimen?

You're asking me what
I do with my hair?

Yes.

Oh, well, nothing too elaborate.

Sonic shower...
a little engine grease.

Thinking about a new look?

Perhaps.

I'll keep you apprised
if you'd like.

Please do.

Was that Seven of Nine?

There must be an alien
intruder on board.

Computer, make the following
modifications to holodeck file:

Seven of Nine Alpha-3,
Personal Quarters.

Modifications complete.

Begin program.

You look perfect.

Give me a hand with this?

I'm surprised
your Starfleet training

didn't include cork extraction.

I must have been sick that day.

Looks like wine's off the menu.

Unless you brought a phaser.

Never on the first date.

Assist me.

Slice these vegetables
transversally

in five-millimeter increments.

Aye, aye.

That smells delicious.

Our appetizer is braised leeks.

Primary course: rack of lamb
with wild rice.

No dessert?

Dessert will be a surprise.

I can't wait.

Does this contain enough
sodium chloride for your taste?

Could use another
.6 milligrams,

but you're the chef.

I concur. More salt.

Liszt?

Chopin.

I've discovered
that classical music

has intriguing
mathematical properties.

Do you play an instrument?

The Doctor's been
giving me piano lessons.

I'd love to hear you play.

I require more practice.

Your technique is flawed.

Sorry. I'm a replicator man.

Use your left hand
to guide the food.

Observe closely.

Pay attention to the vegetable.

You're beautiful
when you're chopping.

I don't mean to sound
like an old holonovel,

but you've got
a wonderful smile.

It wasn't a smile;
it was a smirk.

Oh, no, it was a smile.

I could check the internal
sensors if you'd like.

Remain still.

You have an intriguing
facial structure.

I'll take that as a compliment.

I require more practice.

You're doing just fine.

What's wrong?

Nothing.

I wasn't aware
you had a personal life.

Chakotay to Seven of Nine.

Chakotay to Seven.
Respond.

Go ahead.

Report to Astrometrics.

We've found something.

Yes, Commander.

Good morning.

Good morning.

You found something.

At first we thought

it was another one
of the probes,

then Icheb picked up
an automated transmission.

It's a warning beacon.

You have entered
Subspace Munitions Range 434.

Evacuate immediately.

Apparently, this entire region
is an alien testing ground.

We've been sending
out emergency hails,

but so far, no response.

Whoever's conducting
these tests

could be dozens
of light-years away.

Any progress detecting
their warheads?

Not yet.

You seem a little distracted.

I'm fine.

It's not like you
to be late for a duty shift.

Rough night?

Not at all.

I'll be on the Bridge
if you find anything.

"Better late than never."

Titus Livius,
A History of Rome.

You're relieved.

Get some rest.

Bravo.

You approve?

Approve? I'm amazed.

I was expecting "Chopsticks."

I had no idea you were so good.

The Doctor's
an efficient instructor.

It won't be long

before you're giving a recital
for the entire crew.

The Doctor did suggest
that I accompany him

during his next
operatic performance.

Your turn.

Mmm... unfortunately,
I don't play.

But I'd love to hear you again.

And this...

is one of my favorites.

You want me to stop?

No. I want you to play.

I don't understand.

Look.

Your technique is flawless,

but try to put a little
more heart into the piece.

More of yourself.

That's all right.

Keep going.

Tell me what you're feeling.

My tempo is erratic.

Not what you're thinking.

What you're feeling.

Your emotions.

Frustration, anxiety.

Stop thinking about the notes.

Just play.

I can't.

Yes, you can.

Don't you see what's happening?

The metronome
is holding you back.

It gives you a sense of order,

but it also cuts you
off from your feelings.

Remember
when you first came aboard?

The thought of disconnecting

from the hive mind
terrified you.

This is no different.

It doesn't have to be perfect.

800,000 kilometers
off the starboard bow.

Bridge to Seven of Nine.

Go ahead, Commander.

We need
those sensor calibrations.

I'll need a moment
to return to my station.

That would be a good idea.

Hull fracture, Deck 12.

Seven of Nine, report.

Stand by, Captain.

Lieutenant Paris, isolate
subspace band omicron theta.

Acknowledged.

Direct your sensors
to coordinates 178 mark 26.

Nothing there.

Correction: 178 mark 36.

I can see them.

Two warheads
are about to emerge.

Adjusting course.

Full power
to the forward shields.

Impact in five...

four... three...

two...

Shields are holding.

Why wasn't Seven at her post?

Good question.

Maybe you should ask her.

It was your responsibility

to locate those warheads.

I succeeded.

Not before we took
heavy damage.

You told Chakotay you'd have
those sensor calibrations

hours ago.

The work took longer
than I anticipated.

It might've gone faster
if you'd stayed at your post,

as you were ordered to do.

I didn't realize I was confined
to the Astrometrics Lab.

You were on duty.

This isn't the first time
you've left your station

over the past few days.

Holodeck 2?

You've logged a lot
of time in there.

Mind if I ask why?

Well, it must be something
important, Seven.

49 hours in six days?

I was running a simulation.

Of what?

A new gravimetric array
I've been developing.

I wanted to perfect the design
before I brought it to you.

I appreciate your efforts
to improve our systems,

but I can't have you
dividing your time right now.

When the ship's on alert,

I expect you
to perform your duties.

If you need to leave your post,
inform Commander Chakotay.

Understood?

Yes, Captain.

I apologize for my lapse
in judgment.

We all make mistakes, Seven.

I've even been known
to make a few myself.

It sounds intriguing.

Your new gravimetric array.

When this crisis is over,
I'd be happy to take a look.

Maybe I can lend a hand.

I've analyzed the sensor data
from that last barrage.

I've refined
your detection method.

We'll be able to see the weapons
10.3 seconds earlier.

The Captain will be pleased.

Have I offended you?

No. You've done nothing wrong.

I was negligent in my duties.

As a result, Voyager
was nearly destroyed.

I was hoping you could
provide a quotation

to help alleviate my quilt.

I-l can't think of one,

but I'd be happy
to search the database.

That won't be necessary.

Stay here until I return.

Where are you going?

To correct an error.

Computer,
activate Chakotay simulation.

Come in.

I hope you're not allergic.

Antarian moon blossoms.

Extremely rare.

I had to smuggle them
out of Airponics.

Don't tell Neelix.

I thought I'd cook
for you tonight.

How does roasted chicken sound?

I slaved over the replicator
for hours.

Not hungry?

I called you here to thank you.

For what?

The past few days
have been memorable.

To say the least.

You're ending this.

In a manner of speaking, yes.

Why?

Our relationship is interfering

with my responsibilities
on Voyager.

I could speak to the Captain,

have her cut back
on your duty shifts.

Seven, the past few days
have been more than memorable.

They've been an important
step forward for both of us.

Don't throw that away.

I'm sorry, Commander.

You're making a mistake.

No, I'm trying to correct one.

Ask yourself why
you want to end this.

Is it out of a sense of duty...

or something else?

Every time you move
closer to your emotions,

you back away.

Like hiding behind
that metronome.

Your analogy is flawed.

Is it?

I think you're afraid
that embracing your humanity

will make you weak,
less than perfect.

But think about what
you stand to gain.

It's irrelevant.

No, it's not.

Real intimacy
with another person--

nothing's more relevant.

I must return to my station.

Stay here with me.

This ship needs me.

Sodol.

I can't function this way!

You're not a drone
anymore, you're human!

Stop!

Seven!

What's wrong?

Sick Bay...

medical emergency.

Seven?

Computer, locate Seven of Nine.

Seven of Nine is in Holodeck 2.

What happened?

We were having an argument,
and she just collapsed.

Her cortical node
is shutting down.

She's going into neural shock.

And what happened
to her facial implants?

I thought you removed
all her cybernetic systems.

Computer, end program.

Commander?

If you're looking for
your other holographic friend,

he's off-line at the moment.

Your cortical node
began to shut down.

Fortunately, I managed
to stabilize it

before there was
any permanent damage.

It was functioning properly

when you examined me
two days ago.

I'm going to run a diagnostic
on your entire cortical array.

But it might help if I
knew what you were doing,

before you collapsed.

Did you suffer a physical
injury of some kind?

No.

Were you exposed
to any unusual radiation?

No.

What exactly were you
doing in there?

Research.

That simulation
of Commander Chakotay

mentioned that the two of you
were having an argument.

Was that part of your research?

I couldn't help but notice

that you'd created some
quarters for yourself.

A new dress...
dinner for two.

I trust you'll respect
doctor-patient confidentiality.

Of course.

I've been conducting
simulations

to explore different
aspects of my humanity.

Such as?

Social activities,

friendships with the crew...

intimate relations.

I take it our First Officer
is your "romantic interest"?

Commander Chakotay seemed
like an appropriate choice.

He has many
admirable qualities.

So he does.

What prompted all this?

Unimatrix Zero.

I've been trying to re-create

some of the experiences
I had there.

Ever since it was destroyed,
my life has...

seemed incomplete.

I wanted to feel
those emotions again.

Well...

this is encouraging.

You might be ready

to start forming
deeper relationships.

I'm proud of you, Seven.

Your pride is misplaced.

I intend to delete the programs.

Why?

I can no longer perform
my duties efficiently.

My personal life has
become a distraction.

It's supposed to be
a distraction.

You simply have to find
the right balance

between work and recreation.

Inform me when you
finish the diagnostic.

Seven.

For what it's worth,

you have excellent taste.

Your quarters...

they suited you.

Antimatter flow: stable.

Injector ports: aligned.

That should do it.

Torres to the Bridge.

Looks like we've got
warp drive back.

Well done. Tom.

With pleasure.

I'm detecting another
subspace warhead.

Range?

12 million kilometers.

Closing from astern.

Red Alert.

Where's the target probe?

It's on a totally
different trajectory.

When we engaged the engines,

the warhead must have diverted
from its target

and locked on
to our warp signature.

Evasive maneuvers.

It's matching our course.

Eight million kilometers.

Can you get a weapons lock?

Affirmative.

Photon torpedoes.

Full spread.

Our torpedoes
have been neutralized.

Five million kilometers.

Bridge to Seven of Nine.

Here, Captain.

Can you get me anything

on the warhead's
internal circuitry?

Stand by.

I have it.

What can you tell me
about the detonator?

The weapon is armed

with proximity
resonance circuitry.

What's the activation frequency?

4.84 gigahertz.

I may be able to disarm it
with an antiresonance pulse.

Do it.

Two million kilometers.

Initiating the pulse.

Seven, status?

The warhead's rotating
its activation frequency.

It's still armed.

One million kilometers.

Can you compensate?

Negative.

Captain, I believe
I can disarm the warhead.

How?

By extracting the detonator
with our transporter.

At this velocity?

The device is too small.

You'd never get a lock.

I can use the submicron imager
to focus our targeting scanners.

Please, give me
transporter control.

800,000.

All right, Seven.
It's up to you.

I have a lock.

Energizing.

The detonator's protected
by tritanium shielding.

I can penetrate it,
but not at this distance.

We'll have to wait
until it's closer.

500,000.

Status?

Not yet, Captain.

Four...

three...

two...

Brace for impact!

Doctor.

You've come to deliver
unpleasant news.

Is it that obvious?

I've completed my diagnostic.

What you experienced
was no malfunction.

Your cortical node
was designed

to shut down your
higher brain functions

when you achieve
a certain level

of emotional stimulation.

Clarify.

It appears to be
a fail-safe mechanism...

to deactivate drones

who start to regain
their emotions.

Knowing the Borg, it
makes perfect sense.

Finding one's heart

is the surest road
to individuality.

But I'm no longer linked
to the hive mind.

The technology's
built into your node.

It simply remained
dormant... until now.

Can you repair me?

Possibly.

I've been thinking about a way

to reconfigure
the micro-circuitry.

I won't lie to you, Seven.

It would entail
multiple surgeries,

and the recovery
might be difficult.

But I believe we could
eventually succeed.

I'll prepare the Surgical Bay.

We can begin tomorrow morning.

No.

Without the procedure,
you won't be able

to continue your simulations.

I've experienced enough
humanity for the time being.

They were only
holographic fantasies, Doctor.

An inefficient use of my time.

You don't really believe that.

The fail-safe device
will ensure

that I'm no longer distracted.

That's the Borg talking...

not you.

As your physician...
as your friend,

I'm asking you
to let me proceed.

I need to regenerate.

Seven...

Good night, Doctor.

Where's the fire?

Fire?

You seem to be in a hurry.

I have to finish my report
on the subspace warheads.

The ship's out of danger,
thanks to you.

You've earned a break.

Why don't you join me
in the Mess Hall?

Neelix is going to give
a cooking lesson:

"Talaxian Tenderloin
in Ten Minutes."

I'm no longer interested
in cooking.

Then come for the company.

B'Elanna's going to be there.

Tuvok even promised to show up.

It'll be fun.

I appreciate your offer.

Another time, perhaps.

You know,
you should try socializing

with the crew a little more.

It might do you some good.