Original subtitles

T'POL: Science officer's log, August 14th, 2152.

Enterprise remains on course for the trinary system.

I've transmitted a distress call,

but the nearest Vulcan ship is more than nine days away.

By the time they arrive, they may only find debris, if that.

Even if Enterprise makes it past the black hole without being destroyed,

it seems likely the crew won't survive.

I'm continuing my analysis of the condition that's stricken the crew.

But without Dr. Phlox's assistance,

I'm not hopeful about reversing its effects.

I'm documenting my findings

so that Starfleet will at least have a record of what happened.

The symptoms began not long after we set a course for the trinary system.

That was nearly two days ago.

ARCHER: You're sure it's a black hole?

T'POL: A Class Four.

ARCHER: According to the Vulcan star charts,

your people have surveyed more than 2000 of these things.

That's correct,

but none of them were part of a trinary star system.

ARCHER: How close can we get?

The gravitational shear between the stars is extreme.

We'd have to drop to impulse,

but we should be able to approach to within 5 million kilometers.

Close enough to get some nice pictures.

How long would it take to reach the system at impulse?

T'POL: Two days.

Set a course.

Trip.

If you've got some free time,

I'd love it if you'd take a look at my chair.

- Sir? - The captain's chair.

What about it?

You may have noticed that I don't sit in it very much.

- Is there a problem? - It's uncomfortable.

When I lean back, I feel like I'm about to slide out of it.

I have to sort of perch on the edge.

I always assumed it was the best seat in the house.

Take a look at it for me?

I was gonna purge the impulse manifolds.

The chair first, if you don't mind.

Aye, sir.

[DOORBELL CHIMES]

Come in.

T'POL: Good morning. - Morning.

- Am I interrupting? - No.

No, just thinking about something.

- Today's duty roster. - Thanks.

Lieutenant Reed has a new security protocol

he'd like to discuss with you.

Oh. I'll drop by the Armory. Anything else?

Chef didn't report for duty this morning. He's ill.

- Is it serious? - Dr. Phlox said it's a simple virus.

He should be fine after a few days' rest.

Ensign Sato has offered to take charge of the Mess Hall.

Apparently she spends some of her free time in the galley

and is eager for an opportunity to cook for the crew.

If it's all right with Chef.

Let me ask you a question.

I received a manuscript from Earth, a biography of my father.

I've been asked to write the preface.

Would you mind reading it when I'm done?

I'd be happy to.

If I can ever get it finished. I've been putting it off for weeks.

The next two days should provide you with ample opportunity.

It's not that I haven't had the time.

They only asked for a page.

How am I supposed to sum up my father's life in a page?

It would have been easier if they'd asked me to write the book.

Perhaps by focusing on one incident,

a single event that exemplifies your relationship with your father,

you'll be able to condense your thoughts.

Logical approach.

Maybe you'd like to write it for me?

I'm hardly qualified.

Chef is planning to make fried chicken tonight

with scalloped potatoes and some of the Minaran spinach

we picked up on Risa.

- The orange spinach? - He's convinced there's a way

to make it edible.

Why don't we let him tackle that when he gets back?

I have something else in mind.

It's one of my grandmother's specialties.

The recipe's been passed down for generations.

I'll need a translation before I can program the protein resequencer.

Oh, no. You can resequence all the chicken and potatoes you want,

but I am making this from scratch.

Ensign.

Is there something I can do for you?

I've got a little headache. Nothing serious.

Why don't you let me have a look?

I was hoping you could just give me something.

I'm right in the middle of upgrading the navigation sensors.

It would be irresponsible to dispense medication

without examining you first, hmm?

Please.

Any other symptoms?

- Uh, dizziness, blurred vision? - No.

- Ah. How long have you had it? - A couple of days, on and off.

Well, I've been meaning to have you drop by Sickbay, in any case, hmm?

To see if you've had any problems since I removed the neural implants

you received at the repair station.

You think it could have something to do with that?

Oh, I never rule out anything.

Then again, it could be as innocuous as muscular tension.

On the other hand, Terrellian plague starts out

with a simple headache,

and then all manner of nasty things begin to happen.

[PHLOX CHUCKLES THEN CLEARS THROAT]

[TOOL WHIRRING]

Commander.

Push it forward.

That's good, hold it there.

Commander.

Perhaps you could finish that later.

This may not be as glamorous as a black hole,

but the captain gave me an order.

He also requested detailed sensor readings of this trinary system.

I thought Vulcans had all this mental focus and discipline.

We also have sensitive hearing.

Hmm.

[WHIRRING]

I'll be in my quarters.

We'll let you know when we're done.

Keep those target discriminators aligned.

We don't want a torpedo mistaking one of our own nacelles

for an enemy vessel.

You asked to see me, Malcolm?

Oh, I would have come to you, captain.

It's no problem. What's on your mind?

[REED SIGHS]

I've been reviewing our encounters with hostile species.

The crew's response has been admirable,

but I feel we can do better, sir.

And you have a proposal?

I've been thinking about a ship-wide emergency alert,

something a bit more comprehensive than battle stations.

We're taking far too long to react to potential threats.

With a single order from you or an impact to the hull,

the plating could be polarized, weapons brought online,

critical systems secured...

I appreciate your concern, Malcolm, but this isn't a warship.

Well, that's obvious, sir.

During our last run-in with the Suliban,

we were unprepared for their boarding parties.

When the Mazarites attacked,

they disabled our aft sensors with their first shot.

- The list goes on. - I can see that.

Run this by the senior officers,

get some feedback, and we'll talk again.

REED: Yes, sir.

ARCHER: And, Malcolm.

Don't call it battle stations.

Think of something less aggressive.

[CREW CHATTERING]

- How is it? WOMAN: Really good.

"Condition red"?

Huh?

What about "condition red" for the new security protocol?

Why don't you just call it "security protocol"?

Well, that's not very dynamic.

Do you think a cup holder is too much?

- Beg your pardon? - For the captain's chair.

He just wanted the seat adjusted, but I figured,

as long as I'm working on it.

Just what the captain needs in a crisis, a place to rest his beverage.

I'm also upgrading the status displays.

He'll be able to access tactical data from the armrest.

If you really want to improve tactical readiness,

why don't you help me with this protocol?

I'm a little busy right now, Malcolm.

- It's a chair. - It's the captain's chair.

It's just as important as your Reed alert.

"Reed alert." That's not bad.

Enjoying your lunch?

Ahem. Yeah. Thanks, it was, uh, terrific.

HOSHI: It's called oden.

Every Japanese family has their own way of preparing it.

Well, it seems to be a big hit.

- Congratulations. - Thank you.

Lieutenant, you barely touched yours.

Oh, it was lovely.

HOSHI: I'll get you a fresh bowl. - That's not necessary.

HOSHI: It's no problem. - Please. Not hungry.

Are you sure there's nothing wrong with it?

Well, it was a bit salty.

Salty?

Oh, it tastes fine.

Well, it just must be me, then.

Everybody else seems to be enjoying it.

MAYWEATHER: How much longer will this take?

- That depends. - On what?

Hold still, ensign.

I have to get back to the Bridge.

Well, I'm afraid you won't be returning to duty today.

The captain needs those upgrades, doctor.

When it comes to medical matters, my authority overrides the captain's.

I'm keeping you for observation.

- But your scans didn't show anything. - That's what concerns me.

Whatever's afflicting you may be laying dormant.

I'm going to run a full biomolecular scan to see

if we can find where it's hiding.

Now, now. Lie back and don't move.

[MAYWEATHER SIGHS]

ARCHER: When I was about 8 years old,

my father took me on a tour of the Warp Five facility

outside of Bozeman, Montana.

He introduced me to the people he worked with,

scientists with names like Tasaki and Cochrane.

At the time, I didn't realize the significance of those names or the...

The significance of my father's work.

[BARKS]

Computer, pause. I'll feed you in a minute.

Computer, resume recording.

[COMPUTER BEEPS]

In a way,

creating a stable warp field

mirrored the flux of emotions

my father felt when he

embarked on...

Computer, pause.

Delete the last paragraph. Hell, delete the whole thing.

[BARKS]

Quiet!

[DOORBELL CHIMES]

Come in.

Here's your sensor interface.

What's the emergency?

This trinary system is emitting some unusual radiation.

I'm trying to identify it.

You dragged me up here so you could identify radiation?

- Correct. - You said it was urgent.

I said it was important.

Ah, I get it.

You're paying me back, making me jump through hoops

because I was making too much noise.

Well, you'll be happy to know I moved the captain's chair to Engineering,

so it's nice and quiet on the Bridge now.

I prefer to work here.

I'll need your assistance with this.

Weren't you listening to me?

I don't have time to cater to your whims.

You wanna get your name immortalized in the Vulcan database?

Get someone else to help you do it.

Are you feeling all right, commander?

I know you don't think this chair's important, but you're wrong.

What's the most critical component on this ship?

The main computer, the warp reactor?

Uh-uh, it's the crew,

and the most important member of the crew is the captain.

He makes life-and-death decisions every day,

and the last thing he needs to be thinking in a critical situation is:

"Gee, I wish this chair wasn't such a pain in the ass."

MAYWEATHER: Doctor... - Shh.

- When are you going to...? - Wait.

I have just enough time to shower and get changed.

- I haven't discharged you, ensign. - Well, I haven't slept all night,

and I'm supposed to go on duty in 15 minutes.

I need to perform a cerebral microsection.

- A what? - Lie down.

No more tests.

- I have to get to the Bridge. - I'm giving you an order.

If I don't finish those upgrades, I could get a reprimand.

It'll be on my permanent record.

You have far more to worry about than a blemish on your record.

Do you see there? Hmm?

Your cortical scan shows elevated levels of serotonin

and several other neurotransmitters.

- What does that mean? - I'll let you know

once I've completed the microsection.

- Can't it wait until after my shift? - Absolutely not.

If the captain doesn't think I can handle my duties,

I'll be scrubbing plasma conduits on D-Deck for the next five years.

I could be court-martialed.

And what if you're carrying a protocystian spore, hmm,

and you infect the rest of the crew? How will that reflect on you, hmm?

Or what if you suddenly suffer a seizure at the helm

because you've contracted Andronesian encephalitis?

Now, there is something wrong with you, ensign.

And I intend to find out what it is.

Not today. Not during my shift!

Unless you're ready to tie me to a bio-bed, I'm going back to my helm.

At least let me give you an analgesic for the headache, hmm?

Well, that's all I wanted in the first place.

[SIGHS]

If it gets any worse, or you suffer any other symptoms,

return here immediately.

What did you?

I've been working on the new security protocol.

Obviously, the reactor must be secured immediately

during a tactical alert.

Tactical alert?

I considered your suggestion, "Reed alert,"

but it seemed a bit narcissistic.

Hand me that hyperspanner, would you?

I've also been working on a new alert signal.

Tell me what you think.

[SIREN WAILING]

Or this one.

[ALARM BLARING]

- Which do you prefer? TRIP: For what?

A tactical alert.

They both sound like a bag full of cats.

Well, they were designed to get your attention.

I'll look this over and get back to you.

REED: I also need your help

on an emergency shutdown procedure for the EPS grid.

I said I'll get back to you.

Fine. Let's hope we don't suffer

a catastrophic reactor breach in the meantime.

Malcolm!

One of your boys borrowed my laser micrometer.

If you're heading to the armory, could you get it back for me?

Ensign, if we don't serve something soon,

we're gonna have a riot on our hands.

Is this too salty?

Something's not right.

Hand me the Kreetassan spice. I'll add it to the stock.

- Oh, and I'm out of carrots. - There are 25...

Carrots!

You've been cooking the same meal over and over again.

I believe I'm in charge of the galley. You're relieved.

- Ma'am? - Get out!

- Lieutenant, I need your assist... - - Clearance code?

I beg your pardon?

What is your clearance code?

The armory is a restricted area.

Even to the first officer?

How do I know you are the first officer?

We've encountered species that can alter their appearance.

They could masquerade as any one of us.

I've issued codes to all senior officers to reveal

if the ship's been infiltrated by impostors.

Part of your new security protocol?

It was sent to your console as a voice-encrypted command packet.

I haven't been to the Bridge for several hours.

As I was saying,

I need assistance establishing a sensor interface in my quarters.

I've asked Commander Tucker, but he became agitated.

It was uncharacteristic, even for him.

Have you noticed anything abnormal about his behavior?

Why do you want to access the sensor array from your quarters?

I was asked to run detailed scans of the trinary star system.

- I wasn't informed. - It isn't a tactical issue.

Lieutenant

why are you armed?

From now on, security personnel are to wear sidearms

in all restricted areas.

Have you cleared this with the captain?

- It's in my proposal. - Has he approved your proposal?

I've been trying to get him to pay closer attention to security

since we left space dock.

But he's more interested in fraternizing with the crew,

inviting them to breakfast and to watch water polo.

I intend to implement some long-overdue changes.

And if the captain won't approve them,

then I'll go directly to Starfleet Command.

Was there anything else?

No.

T'POL: It wasn't long before I realized the odd behavior

wasn't limited to Commander Tucker.

In fact, everyone I encountered was acting strangely,

growing consumed with matters that seemed trivial at best.

I also discovered that although I appeared to be immune,

the captain was not.

ARCHER: What happened to my chair?

Did you know that this chair is the exact same model

used on Neptune-class survey ships?

Is that why you called me down here?

Enterprise is the first warp-5 vessel in human history, the pride of the fleet.

And you're sitting in a chair they've been using on warp-2 ships

for over a decade.

You deserve better, so I'm starting from scratch.

I'm gonna build you a throne.

Stand right there.

I need to get a few parametric scans, to get your exact dimensions.

This baby's gonna fit like a glove.

Isn't that used for aligning phase coils?

You won't feel a thing.

As long as I'm down here,

- maybe I can get your opinion. TRIP: Don't move.

"How does one measure a man's legacy?

Is it defined by the works he's created,

the technological advances that will alter the course of human history?"

Turn around.

[SIGHS]

"If so, then no man since Zefram Cochrane himself

has made a more lasting contribution to the future of humankind

than my father, Dr. Henry Archer."

All done.

- What do you think? TRIP: Sounds good.

Let me read you the rest.

- I really need to get to work on this. - It's just a few more pages.

TRIP: How many more? - Nineteen.

Nineteen?

Are you writing the preface or the book?

- I've got a lot to say. - No kidding.

ARCHER: What's that supposed to mean?

Well, if I may, sir, it's a little long-winded.

You're lucky you're a decent engineer,

because you obviously don't know anything about writing.

I'm not the only one.

[DOOR OPENS THEN CLOSES]

I have 83 people to feed, not just senior officers.

All I requested was a bowl of Plomeek broth.

I don't have time for special orders. You'll like this better.

ARCHER: Where's lunch? HOSHI: It'll be ready in one minute, sir.

I don't have a minute.

If you're so hungry, fix yourself a sandwich.

Captain, may I speak with you?

That is a very complex recipe. I will not serve it until it's just right!

My family's reputation is at stake.

[SIREN WAILING]

REED [OVER PA]: This is a tactical alert.

All hands, report to your stations.

I repeat, this is a tactical alert.

[SIREN WAILING]

Report.

The crew's response was unacceptable.

Thirty-eight percent of them failed to report to their stations.

Critical systems haven't been secured. I haven't even heard from Engineering.

Shut off that damn noise! Shut it off!

I don't recall authorizing a tactical drill.

Well, it wouldn't be much of a drill if everybody knew about it, sir.

- One minute and 15 seconds. - What?

It took you one minute and 15 seconds to reach your post.

I'd expect more of our commanding officer,

given that the crew just might follow his example.

Captain!

One minute and 49 seconds.

You might wanna see this, sir.

Interactive status displays, secondary helm control,

it's even got inertial micro-dampers.

The ship could be shaken apart, and you'd hardly feel a thing.

You ignored a tactical alert for this?

I wanna run some colors by you for the headrest.

REED: This is all a big joke to you. - Give it a rest.

This isn't a bloody pleasure cruise.

Without proper discipline on this ship, this mission is doomed.

Why don't you go play soldier somewhere else?

If this were a military situation, you'd be taken out and shot.

ARCHER: Hey. Hey, hey, hey.

I don't care what color the headrest is, or whether it can serve me iced tea.

I just want a place to sit when I'm on duty.

And if I hear that alarm one more time, I may have you taken out and shot.

Unless there's a real emergency, like a reactor breach,

I don't wanna be disturbed.

[DOORBELL CHIMES]

Go away.

Do I have to start locking my door?

You said to interrupt you if there was an emergency.

- I believe there is. - Is that right?

The crew's behavior has become erratic.

Even by human standards, they've grown distracted.

Everyone I've encountered appears to be preoccupied with trivial matters.

Ensign Sato's recipe, for example.

Your preface.

We should declare a medical emergency

and have Dr. Phlox examine the crew.

I suggest he begin with you.

I'm busy.

- Captain. - Dismissed.

- Your crew is in danger. - I gave you an order.

- Captain. - I suggest you follow it.

Or I'll have you confined to your quarters

until a Vulcan ship can come and get you.

Oh, you're just in time, sub-commander.

There's a surgical gown in the compartment by the microscope, heh.

This is a rare opportunity to explore the human brain.

- Was he injured? - Headache, heh.

At first I thought it was a simple vascular dilation,

but then I discovered a chemical imbalance in his prefrontal cortex.

I'm going to begin by extracting the first 12 millimeters of his parietal lobe.

A subcellular analysis of the tissue

should shed some light on the mystery.

Doctor, you may want to delay the procedure.

We have a larger problem. The entire crew is ill.

They'll have to wait.

You've been affected as well.

Please remove your hand.

I won't ask you again.

I'll let you know when I've completed the surgery.

T'POL: The crew's bio-signs were growing erratic.

I began to doubt any of them would survive more than a few hours.

Ironically, Dr. Phlox's obsession with Ensign Mayweather's headache

has provided some useful data.

His cerebral scans have helped me determine

that the radiation coming from the trinary system is causing...

[COMPUTER BEEPS]

T'POL: Computer, pause.

Computer, resume log.

[COMPUTER BEEPS]

My radiometric analysis is complete.

As I suspected, reversing course won't take us out of danger quickly enough.

The radiation appears to extend outward

at least half a light year in every direction except one.

If I can chart a course between the stars,

we could escape the radiation before the crew succumbs.

But I won't be able to pilot the ship alone.

Captain. Captain Archer.

- You're needed on the Bridge. - I told you not to disturb me.

We have very little time.

- What are you doing? - Your crew may be dying.

ARCHER: What?

Do you remember that trinary star system?

The one with the black hole?

T'POL: It's emitting a dangerous form of radiation.

It's affecting your prefrontal cortex.

I believe that's why you and the crew

have been exhibiting obsessive behavior.

Some of the crew's bio-signs are already unstable.

If you're exposed to the radiation much longer, you won't survive.

[ARCHER GRUNTS]

Do you understand what I'm telling you?

- Turn it off. - Do you understand?

Yes. Radiation.

Tell Phlox if the crew's sick.

- Tell Phlox. - He's been affected as well.

But not you?

Vulcan physiology seems to be immune.

Bring us about.

Turn the ship around.

It's not that simple.

If we go back the way we came,

we'll spend two more days in the radiation field.

I've charted a course.

It'll have us clear of the radiation in less than 17 minutes.

Ugh, lousy coffee.

But we'll have to pass within 2 million kilometers of the black hole.

There's considerable debris and gravitational shear.

Someone needs to pilot Enterprise

while I determine the course corrections.

- Travis. - He's been sedated.

I'm in no condition to fly a starship.

We have no other choice.

T'POL: More gravitational shear.

We're too far to port.

But you said bearing 2.4.

Twelve-point-four.

My mistake.

[GRUNTING]

Twelve-point-four.

How much longer is this gonna take?

- Six minutes. - I'm good for that.

Another shear front.

We need to rotate our longitudinal access by 12 degrees

and bring our flight vector to 014, mark 27.

Hold on, hold on. Zero what?

- Zero-one-four, mark... - Mark 27.

Just minor debris. The hull plating is holding.

Our lateral vector is drifting.

Captain!

Hang on a second.

I feel like I'm in flight school again.

You're doing well.

New heading, 006, mark 4.

[MUMBLES INDISTINCTLY]

- Captain. - I see it.

- We need phase cannons. - They'd take too long to charge.

[SIREN WAILING]

All weapons are online.

It must be part of the new security protocol.

Fire!

Could you shut that off?

[SIREN STOPS]

How much longer?

Less than ten seconds.

Five more seconds.

Any more surprises?

Nothing on sensors.

[PANTING]

Did we get some nice pictures of the black hole?

How are you feeling?

A little tired, but the headache's gone.

- What'd you do? - Very little, fortunately.

You're free to go.

Captain.

How's the crew?

Oh, I'm continuing to monitor vital signs, but I've detected

no lingering effects from the radiation.

Mostly just rattled nerves.

A few bruises and sprains from when some of them lost consciousness.

I appreciate your intervening, uh, before I got any further

with Mr. Mayweather's procedure.

I wasn't certain it would work on a Denobulan.

Heh, well, it worked quite effectively, I can assure you.

What procedure on Mr. Mayweather?

The radiation affected my nervous system rather severely. Ahem.

- I'll be with you in a moment. MAN: Okay, doctor.

I'll provide you with a full report when I've finished treating the crew.

- You wanted to see me, captain? - I did.

When T'Pol and I were navigating the debris field,

- your tactical alert went off. - I heard, sir.

I've already deactivated the new protocols.

You shouldn't have.

They brought the weapons online right when we needed them.

If you have no objection,

I'd like to make it standard procedure.

No objection, sir.

You still need to work on that alarm.

I'll get right on it.

Doesn't look any different to me.

TRIP: Give it a try.

ARCHER: Hmm.

Feels better.

- What'd you do? - Cross your legs.

What'd you do?

Seems totally different.

I lowered it,

by one centimeter.

[CHUCKLES]

That's all?

Didn't have time to install the new status displays

or the inertial micro-dampers,

but, uh, if you give me a couple of days...

I think this will be fine, commander. Thanks.

- How about I attach the cup holder? - This will be fine.

How does this sound?