Original subtitles

Previously on Star Trek: Strange New Worlds...

Are you getting any closer?

No.

Hi, Dad.

There has to be a cure.

I just need to find it.

Joseph, we got this.

We got this.

Eyes up. We got this.

-Say it with me. We got this. -We got this.

The war is over, Joseph.

Yes, but how can it ever be?

It's about that fellowship, the archaeological medicine?

I'm thinking about applying.

I'm going to have to replace you, aren't I?

You're not getting rid of me that easy.

Prepare for maximum warp.

If we push this ship too hard and it fails...

that's our fault.

-Report. -It's the plasma manifolds.

-They've blown out. -Well, then, take whoever you need

-and get down there and fix it. -They are gone.

Beyond repair.

We're dead in the water.

Nurse's personal log. Stardate 1213.72.

It's day five of our work roster,

only minutes until the end of the alpha shift.

At 2100 hours, the weekend officially begins.

Not that anyone's counting.

Eyes on the skies, Lieutenant.

Yes, Captain.

Course plotted to Starbase 7

for upgrades to the Bussard Collectors.

And then it's beta shift's problem.

I've received confirmation they're expecting us.

I also hear Ensign Rankin's playing piano tonight

in the Port Galley.

We don't use that piano enough.

All right. Warp factor four, Erica.

Need a hand?

Please.

Dr. Boyce will be here soon,

and you know how he likes a tidy sickbay.

I do.

Beta shift keeps reminding me.

Hey, it's weird that he transferred back, right?

I heard that he didn't get along with anyone on the Sunita.

He's a brilliant surgeon.

And he was once the CMO here.

Interim CMO.

Until you became available.

Now he's second banana?

It's hard to imagine he's okay with that.

You believe he wants my job?

I requested his transfer.

In case it should ever be necessary for him to take over,

I would know sickbay was in good hands.

This is news.

It's just something I've been mulling over lately.

Don't worry.

If the time comes,

I'll give you plenty of warning.

If you leave...

I would have to leave, too.

Why?

I don't think that I would fare well under Boyce.

I'd be better off in epigenetic research.

You have a good situation here.

You are liked and respected.

You do important work.

Yet you still have one foot out the door.

As you always do.

Why is that, Christine?

I have one foot out the door?

I'm sorry, weren't we talking about you?

You know what?

Forget I brought it up.

Already forgotten.

Last on our list:

I'm flushing out the Bussard Collectors

to prep them for upgrade.

We're getting Bussard ramscoops.

Not sure there's a difference.

Maybe they're, uh, I don't know, shinier?

You don't think it's necessary?

Well, as with most upgrades, by the time you install it,

it's obsolete.

Commander Pelia had me top off the fuel pods.

We should be fine without reserves for one trip.

Hold on.

The nav computer's glitching.

What have you spat up now?

It's just some bad code.

I'll take care of it. You should clock out.

My eyes are getting bleary.

Um, notify me if it persists, yeah?

Any suggestions on how to get him to sign faster?

You'll jinx it.

Lieutenant Rahda, you officially have the conn.

I promise you smooth sailing, sir.

That's odd.

Our warp trajectory has shifted.

By how much?

-Only a few degrees. -Oh.

-Only a few degrees. -Well,

since we haven't left yet...

We have to recheck

our course for navigational obstructions.

You know Una's drinking all the good stuff.

I know.

Engineering to Lieutenant Scott.

I'm afraid that bad code was hiding something after all.

Well, don't bury the lede.

Math says some kind of wormhole filled with neutrinos

moving at warp speed.

Sending to your PADD.

Cut all power to the warp engines.

-Without notifying the bridge? -There's no time.

Do it before we get caught in the slipstream.

Initiating emergency shutdown.

And pray we're not too late already.

Engineering.

Don't pretend it didn't mean something.

You said it, so there must be a reason.

Christine, it was an offhanded comment.

Yeah, but deep down, there must be some truth to it.

Can you please have the guts to admit that?

We are friends,

and you are an indispensable medical officer,

except you chose to remain on temporary duty assignment.

So, you're mad because I never applied

for permanent duty here?

As I said, you've always had one foot out the door.

You're the one who's leaving!

I'm just keeping my options open.

That's always your answer.

Whenever things get real, you run.

There is a lot that I could say about you.

A lot.

But I don't.

Red alert. I repeat, red alert.

All hands brace for impact.

Rahda, can we get Scotty back?

We need to find out what's happening.

We've lost comms.

Every system is fried.

I have no control over the ship.

Shields. I need shields!

Sir, everything's electrified!

Ortegas, you have the conn.

Captain?

Engineering.

Engineering...

See if it's my bloody accent again.

Engineering.

Engineering.

Neutrino radiation at lethal level.

Have to... evacuate.

Under the door!

Something's wrong with the table.

Move! Ah!

Are you okay?

Space.

The final frontier.

These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise.

Its five-year mission:

to explore strange new worlds...

to seek out new life

and new civilizations...

to boldly go where no one has gone before.

Ah!

Inertial dampeners are nearly dead.

Let me try to get them back up.

That took our last bit of power.

Reducing alert status, but I need an engineer pronto,

or it's right back to nosebleed city.

I'm trying to raise someone,

but comms are down on half the ship.

Did you try Pelia?

Repeatedly. Even Scotty's not answering,

and he always picks up.

Yeah, even at weird hours.

I seriously wonder if he ever sleeps.

I'm sure he's fine.

Stand by, I've got Port Galley.

Una here. Uhura, what's your status?

Alive and assessing our damage.

We have multiple crew injured, including the captain.

Ortegas here. I have the conn.

We're bleeding fuel. All sensors are down but one.

And we're flying right into...

whatever that is.

Cleanup crew is going to have their work

cut out for them up here. How's your weekend going?

Cut short, like yours.

Spock is patching into the sensor from here.

I have identified the phenomenon.

We are caught in a slipstream wormhole.

It came out of nowhere.

How come nav sensors didn't pick it up?

Indeterminate.

The scan indicates

extremely rare neutrino currents moving at warp speed,

suctioning anything that crosses its wake.

So we got yanked off course by a...

giant vacuum cleaner?

Imagine one that spans countless light-years,

and flows with lethally radioactive dust.

Imagine it? We're in it.

Ortegas, as soon as things are under control down here,

we'll head to you.

Negative. Inertial dampeners

are held together with duct tape.

It's not safe to move about

until we reach someone in Engineering.

I'm still working on comms.

But if I know Scotty, he's on his way.

Hello?

Help!

Get me out!

Get me out!

Thank you.

I need to get to Engineering,

only the lift's conveniently out of service.

I do not believe kicking addressed the problem.

May I suggest the transporter?

There is one on this level. And no kicking is required.

I knew that.

Can't very well transport with no pattern integrity.

Inertial dampeners?

They are currently running out of power. If we lose them...

We'll all be rolled into black pudding.

As a vegetarian, I find your metaphor illogical.

You're not helping, you know.

Engineering is under emergency seal.

-Tell me we have comms. -We do not.

This section of the ship is nonfunctional.

Damn useless bucket of bolts.

Would it help if I lie and pretend comms are functional?

No, it would help if you fix them.

I'll worry about the dampeners. I can access them from here.

Computer. Assessment.

The patient has experienced fatal trans-lumbar severance.

Cardiogenic shock is imminent.

I know.

How is he alive?

Scan indicates external pressure holds his vital organs in place.

The lab table.

Joseph.

Joseph, can you hear me?

What's my name?

Christine Chapel.

On civilian exchange

from the Stanford Morehouse Epigenetic Project.

Hmm. Well, your memory's intact.

Sickbay to bridge.

Do me a favor. Don't move.

I have nowhere to be.

Did you take an X-ray?

I did, yeah.

The result?

Uh, the computer is down.

Christine, what are you not telling me?

It's too dangerous to move the lab table until we know more.

So, for the time being,

we're just going to leave it where it is.

Okay.

Sounds like a plan.

Bridge to Port Galley. Good news.

We've restored comms to Scotty. We're all on an open line.

Glad you're okay, Lieutenant. Are the dampeners repaired?

I had to tap into emergency backups

to keep them going.

I'm still trying to mop up this mess.

-I'd stay put for now. -Roger.

You know where we are.

Attention everybody! The grav-plating is malfunctioning.

We need all crew to move to the exit.

Dr. Boyce, can you help?

You heard the commander! This way.

-Everyone, come on. -Let's go!

Move, move!

-Let's go. -All right, let me through.

Let me through.

We seem to have a situation.

Port Galley to bridge. Need an assist.

Can you override artificial gravity from there?

Negative.

I'm getting reports of gravity malfunctions all over.

We have to do something.

G-forces are lower by the exit. We would be safest there.

La'An, keep everyone by the door and close to the ground.

Pretty soon, we won't have a choice.

I feel like there's a giant fist pushing down on me.

We may be able to override the gravity from here.

The manual controls are in a panel on the far wall.

I'll go.

Unfortunately, that is where G-forces are most intense.

They may already be intolerable.

Then let's hope I'm stronger than a piano.

Normal gravity is returning.

Well, Doctor? You're up.

It's Choose-Your-Disaster Day.

Whenever I fix one problem,

that causes another worse problem.

Is this a human holiday I am unaware of?

All our fuel is irradiated.

I have to shut something down, or we'll lose more functions.

Pelia would know what to do.

Until comms to her quarters are restored,

it is impossible to consult her.

I can hear her in my head.

"Pick something we won't die without."

In that case, I recommend shutting down life support.

Oh, great idea, Cadet.

Air is overrated.

Obviously not all life support.

Only in areas it is not required.

If we shut it down in the corridors,

we might pull enough power to override the malfunctions.

And we have to do it straightaway.

Can you put me through ship-wide?

That is Ensign Uhura's duty.

Under present circumstances, I shall attempt it.

This is Lieutenant Junior Grade Montgomery Scott.

I am invoking Starfleet Safety Protocol 429

to issue the following ship-wide command.

All crew must immediately vacate corridors

and shelter inside sealed areas.

I have begun shunting power from targeted areas of the ship.

I repeat, all crew must vacate every corridor.

Immediately. Scott, out.

Hang on, I'll prep an analgesic.

Port Galley to sickbay. Who's there?

Finally, comms are back.

Dr. Boyce, it's Nurse Chapel.

It's good to hear from you.

Are you treating any injured?

Yes. One.

Are they stable? I could use your help here.

And you only have about a minute

before the corridors are impassable.

Negative on that. I can't leave.

It's M'Benga.

How bad?

I'm sending it to you now.

What are you doing staying there?

Move. Now.

You are needed here.

I-I just told you that I can't.

You cannot help him. No one can.

We don't know that yet.

Based on this information, I am now the CMO.

And I am telling you to leave.

Is anyone under your care on the verge of death?

This is a direct order, Nurse.

Remember your job, put the patient in the best condition

for nature to take its course. And that's it.

Your signal's breaking up.

Can't really hear you.

You got what you wanted, Nurse Chapel.

Best of luck.

How's that?

Helping.

Why did Boyce say no one can help me?

We have a difference of opinion on that.

Christine, I know you saw the scan.

Show me.

Okay, next problem.

This radiation is scrambling our one sensor.

No sensor, no data.

No data, no way to form a plan.

The solution is obvious.

Extend the sensor's reach.

Obvious. And how do we do that?

I know how. Um, Scott to bridge.

We need to deploy a probe.

Just to the edge of the warp bubble.

That'll boost our signal.

We can finally get a read on this slipstream.

Good thinking, Scotty. Stand by.

Ah! It's melted the sensor.

We're flying blind now.

-Did we get any readings back? -Negative.

We only succeeded in destroying more crucial apparatus.

Wait, wait, wait. We can track its speed when it blew to bits.

That is something at least.

Troubling.

You're telling me.

Scott to bridge.

Got some data back.

Turns out this slipstream is like a warp slingshot.

The longer we're in it, the faster we go.

And at the rate we're flying,

it'll push us beyond the warp threshold.

Scotty, no offense. Speaking as a pilot

to the smartest engineer I know, isn't that impossible?

If we crossed the warp threshold, we'd...

Disintegrate into hurling bits of space-time.

The best pilot in the galaxy can't outfly that.

Not even you, Erica.

According to the numbers,

we have 24 minutes.

Boyce was right.

You should have left me here while you could.

I would never do that.

I have no chance, Christine.

There is nothing to be done.

I still feel my legs.

It could be phantom limb sensation.

I'm sorry.

God, I'm not used to you as a patient.

Well, I won't be for long.

Help me.

You would be gone in seconds.

And if we do nothing?

I only have minutes.

Maybe ten.

Twenty, tops.

We have seen cases this bad.

There's got to be a way to save you.

You're deluding yourself.

I won't let you do that to me.

You can be mad.

You can be as mad as you like.

I am not going anywhere.

No. I'd appreciate it if you didn't, actually.

No, no, no, no, no.

It's okay.

It's okay. We can fix this.

Christine.

We can use Mylar blankets to seal the crack.

Soon, the temperature will drop to negative 400 degrees.

I doubt a blanket will do the trick.

Well, we'll wrap ourselves in Mylar, too.

We have more than enough in here.

It seems that one way or another, I will die today.

But you don't have to die with me, my friend.

Get an oxygen mask. Try the corridors.

I know you. You do not give up.

And neither do I.

I am not leaving you.

Wrap yourself from head to toe.

You'll need every bit of that.

Transporter to Chief Engineer Pelia, can you hear me?

Scotty, there you are. I've been waiting for you to call.

We've had a devil of a time restoring comms.

And we've lost all sensors.

I saw the pod go boom.

If it makes you feel any better, that would've been my move, too.

How do we find a way out of this nightmare with no eyes?

We find new eyes.

What about the Ion Pod?

You want to send some poor soul out to that tube of horrors?

Well, its purpose is to take readings when sensors fail.

In ion storms.

This is a completely different emergency.

We'll recalibrate it for neutrinos.

Well, you will.

Pelia, Engineering's sealed.

Someone will have to do a spacewalk at warp

just to reach the damn thing.

I never claimed it would be a vacation.

But if we maintain a stable warp bubble,

they'll have a chance at surviving.

A very small one. But a chance.

I've got nothing better.

Eh, bridge, are you still monitoring?

Uhura here, we heard it all.

I'm happy to report, the captain has the conn again.

Thank you for catching me up, Uhura.

I missed a lot while I was out.

Pelia, what about radiation exposure?

Ah, well, before anyone could complete a full scan,

their skin would be oatmeal.

So a word of advice to whoever goes:

wear sunblock, work fast.

Pike to Port Galley.

Port Galley here, Captain.

I really hate to ask this, but I have to.

We have to send someone to the Ion Pod, and you're closest.

A Vulcan has the highest chances of survival.

There are pressure suits here in the emergency locker.

Spock, it's the only way to gather data with no sensors.

And then, we just need to get Scotty

into a Jefferies tube to recalibrate

the Ion Pod for neutrinos.

There is power for one stable transport.

Though I should mention I have not completed

my transporter training.

Oh, it's easy. You just push the sliders up.

Small favor, make sure there's heat and oxygen waiting for me.

I will do my best.

Wonderful.

Your delaying is only making things harder.

You are really in a hurry to die all alone, aren't you?

Just humor me.

Huh.

What?

When Rukiya was sick,

you explored a lot of...

experimental treatments.

No. That won't work.

Think of where we are, right now.

That was a hypothetical procedure.

Just speculation, fringe science.

No one took it seriously.

Christine.

I should have traded places with Spock.

It's a damn coffin in here.

Scott to bridge.

The pod's ready. And I'm... just fine.

Copy that, Scotty. I'll keep the channel open.

I've got Chapel in sickbay.

Put her through.

How's Dr. M'Benga? I received the prognosis from Dr. Boyce.

He's resting up. Um, I'm sending you something.

What am I looking at?

Neutrinos.

One of the strangest particles in nature,

and one of the hardest to study. You need an accelerator

200 miles long just to detect a small handful.

But right now, we are in the neutrino mother lode.

And... that's a good thing?

It could be.

Neutrinos constantly collide with each other.

And for every ten billion collisions,

one new particle is created.

Joseph once researched a certain type.

They're called strong force neutrinos.

But they're theoretical.

No one's ever found one, because there isn't a lab

big enough to produce any.

But out here...

Infinite space. A big enough lab. All right.

According to the theory,

they can be used for medical purposes.

They interact with organic matter

and can heal the molecular structure of damaged tissue.

If I could get enough of them to focus on M'Benga's injuries,

I could reverse the trauma.

And maybe save him.

In theory.

Y-You've lost me.

Neutrinos, they're ghost particles.

They pass through us all the time without stopping.

Normal ones, yeah.

But out here we are bombarded with new ones

that behave differently.

And-and we can contain them.

If we're talking theory,

a superparticle that prints complex molecules

should be able to easily churn out a simple isotope.

Like, say, deuterium.

Which could also solve our fuel problem.

Wait, s-slow down.

Explain this to me. So you're saying that, uh,

strong force neutrinos...

can heal M'Benga and make fuel? What?

Almost seems too good to be true, I know.

But if they work like Chapel says

and I used the Bussard Collectors as a straw

to drink up a neutrino smoothie,

they'd mix with the residual deuterium

and create a lot more of it.

If they exist.

How much deuterium do you need to get us out of here?

A lot. Basically all of it.

All right.

That gives Spock something to focus the scan on.

Make sure he knows.

Channels are still open. He knows.

He should be going through the airlock now.

Spock to bridge.

I do not know if you can hear me.

I am proceeding down the secondary hull.

The energy currents are intense.

Exhausting.

Entering the Ion Pod.

Sensors have been activated.

Lieutenant Spock, this is Uhura.

Are you commencing the scan?

All I'm getting back is static. But it looks like he's in there.

The radiation must be cooking him alive.

Sir, the pod,

it's absorbing too much radiation.

The neutrinos could spark a fusion reaction.

And if the pod blows while it's still in the hull,

it'll take out the Enterprise.

You have to jettison.

Get Spock out of there.

Lieutenant Spock, evacuate the pod.

We are about to jettison.

I repeat, evacuate the pod.

Mr. Spock.

Red alert.

If Spock's still in there, he might see it.

Captain, the radiation is reaching critical mass.

In ten seconds the pod will blow a hole through the hull.

Spock...

Five seconds.

La'An, it doesn't have to be you.

It should have been me in the first place.

I'm more expendable than Spock.

I refuse to dignify that with a response.

He could be alive. There's no proof he's gone.

And there's a chance he got the data.

I have to believe he's still out there.

In 12 minutes, without that data,

we're all dead.

Go.

Scott to Pelia. I think I'm running out of oxygen.

No, I had Cadet A'Sha double and triple-check.

You have enough air for at least one hour.

And what provided that morsel of assurance?

Huh? The computer?

Same one that never warned us about the murder vortex?

Great idea,

harnessing strong force neutrinos from the slipstream.

Now that, that is turning lemons into lemonade.

A-Actually, you know, lemons are a hybrid.

They didn't exist before us.

Life never gave us lemons, we demanded them.

I know, I was there.

Funny story, there was this nice lady in India

who made the most refreshing brunch drinks.

I think her name was Herjinder.

W... What?

I'm trying to distract you. How am I doing?

You're freaking me out.

Talk to me, Scotty.

It's Enterprise.

This ship is supposed to keep us alive in the blackness of space.

But it's doing just the opposite.

She glitched when we needed her most.

She... she put us in this pickle.

We lost good members of our crew.

Every ship glitches.

Every ship.

After the Stardiver, I...

Look, I can't keep doing this.

Yes, you can.

I'll tell you why.

Because starships

are also capable of miracles.

If you listen.

Ah, you have to be aware of everything around you.

You have to hear what's happening

in the bones of the ship.

Even when the computer fails to give you a critical warning.

Oh, especially then.

You have to be a miracle worker.

Okay,

I'm not freaking out anymore... as much.

Oh, good.

Because if we do get any data back from the pod,

you'll have to identify those strong force neutrinos.

I never studied particle physics.

Don't tell anybody.

Let's review.

When we're both ready, I'm going to open that door,

and you will freeze to death.

But that will hold you together

while I move the lab table off you.

Then, it's surgery time.

I've programmed a biobed

to link to an intake conduit on the hull.

That will draw strong force neutrinos

from the slipstream into this...

which I will use to stitch you together.

Then, when the heat's back...

I restart your heart.

Then we're back in action.

If we get the data from the pod.

And if the theory even works.

Otherwise you die, too.

Add it to my list of questionable life choices.

We should talk about... earlier.

That's not necessary.

It was a little fight. It's no big deal.

I need to say this.

In case.

I never imagined I would go out this way.

But I'm...

I'm grateful I'm not alone.

And that my final moments are with a friend.

Because I have you.

Except that you're not dying.

You are not dying.

You're kidding me!

No!

La'An to bridge. Can you read me?

He's not here.

I am climbing into the pod housing.

Spock!

He's alive.

I've got the data chip.

Hey. Hey.

You're here to kill me.

Remember, it's basically just cryostasis.

I wish you would accept what we both know to be true.

I won't wake up again.

What if I just want to know that you will be okay?

When you open the door, I want you to leave.

Please.

Get somewhere safe.

Tell me a joke.

-A joke? -Yeah.

I know you have a favorite one.

Everybody does.

So can you please tell me yours.

You know, the-the one that you save for special occasions.

And then, when we have both had a laugh,

I am going to open that door.

And whatever happens... happens.

Deal?

An Aquan was invited to a Lanthanite's birthday party.

And he has to bring a gift.

He decided to present her with a Benzar turtle.

The Aquan explains,

"This turtle is special. It lives 20,000 years."

The Lanthanite sighs, and says,

"Pets. You love them.

And then..."

We are four minutes to warp threshold.

Any word from La'An?

Nothing.

Wait, I'm getting an alert now.

Unless you want a serious case of frostbite, back away!

He was exposed for too long. We both were.

We need to get these suits off and decontaminate.

Of course. But first the pod data.

Can we recover what's on here?

If we had several hours, yeah.

Radiation sickness. I need to treat him, now.

What are you doing, Lieutenant?

Communicating.

Your mind to my mind.

Your thoughts to my thoughts.

La'An to bridge!

Step one, done.

Lieutenant Scott, we have the data.

La'An is sending it to your PADD now.

Only caveat, it's all from Spock's memory.

Well, I trust a Vulcan's memory as much as any computer.

Reviewing it now.

You can tell Nurse Chapel

she rewrote the laws of physics.

Strong force neutrinos are real and in the vicinity.

Relaying the coordinates to Lieutenant Ortegas.

Receiving, and rerouting our trajectory.

We are 30 seconds away from the warp threshold.

We won't get to your magic particles in time.

Hull integrity is failing.

The ship is going to break up, Captain.

Can we divert more power to shields?

There's nothing left to divert.

The Enterprise will hold.

She'll keep us alive until we get to those neutrinos.

As soon as we're there, I can turn on the Bussard Collectors

-and convert them into power. -Everyone be ready.

We're about to cross the warp threshold.

Oh...

Sir, I'm seeing full power returning to comms!

Other systems, too.

Sensors, life support, impulse power.

Scotty, you just did the impossible,

and I'm not surprised.

Permission to crash us out of this thing.

Go. Go!

We're leveling off to a stable warp.

Never thought I'd be this glad to slow down.

Ah.

You're gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay.

You're gonna...

be okay.

Got a bed for you right over here.

Words aren't enough.

We'd all be dead if it wasn't for you.

Take as much time as you need to recover, okay?

Actually, I have a request.

I'd like to put in for a permanent duty station here.

Officially.

Hasn't Joseph told you?

He's considering leaving. I assumed you'd want to follow.

He reminded me that I... have got it good here.

Okay.

You never let me finish my joke.

Well, it was taking you forever to get to the punch line, so...

"Pets.

You love them, and then they go and die on you."

It's 80% there. We'll work on it.

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