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We've arrived in the Portelo system, Captain.

Any idea what we're supposed to be doing?

Starfleet was unusually tight-lipped on the details.

The whole mission's classified.

Take us in.

MARINER: I wonder what the big mystery is.

Ugh, I hope it's not a Romulan Neutral Zone thing.

Spy stuff's so boring.

- [device trills] - Uh, ah, ah, man.

Whatever it is, I have to start with holodeck waste removal.

- Blech. - TENDI: I don't know,

but I can't wait to find out with you.

'Sup, ladies? How's science?

We just catalogued some pretty cool hydrogen samples.

Hydrogen is the most common element in the universe.

Sweet. See you guys at lunch.

Boimler, make sure you shower first. Holodeck duty.

Your odor will be repulsive.

Oh, thank you so much, T'Lyn.

You are welcome.

- [grunts] - Oh-ho-ho.

Don't get too used to this kind of work, Mr. Boimler.

Promotions are coming up, and I think you'll be very happy.

Wait, really? I-I... [clears throat]

I'm getting a promotion?

As long as nothing goes sideways today,

you'll be a lieutenant junior grade.

- But stuff always goes sideways. - Relax.

You'd have to screw up in a historically significant way

- to mess this one up. - Okay, yeah.

What are the odds of that? [laughs] Oh, oh!

[yelps]

Uh... [whimpers]

Approaching the mystery station, Captain.

I hope this isn't a Romulan thing.

- I hate the Neutral Zone. - Right? Thank you.

Sorry for the secrecy, Captain,

but after all these years, we finally finished.

[clears throat] Beljo Tweekle, curator and historian.

Curator? What, are we transporting some type of art?

[scoffs] Perhaps the most beautiful work of art

in Starfleet history.

[gasps] Oh, my God, we get to do something on Voyager?

Uh, you know, 'cause, I mean, Boimler's gonna flip. [chuckles]

?

?

?

FREEMAN: Captain's log, stardate 58724..

In a pleasant surprise, theCerritos has been tasked

with transporting the USSVoyager.

Captain Janeway and her crew spent seven years

trying to get home from the Delta Quadrant,

and they became Federation history in the process.

Since their return, Voyager has been decommissioned

and preserved for future generations.

Her first stop is Starfleet Command,

where she'll spend some time on the ground

before being permanently

- stationed in orbit. - [yelps]

- [grunts] - CURATOR: Careful.

That's a mission-worn uniform.

My legacy depends on everything making it to Earth

in pristine condition.

Unzak, when he guided the florkas to their roost.

Whatever. Just don't touch anything.

- Oopsie-doodle. - CURATOR: What are you doing?

Just taking a peek at the bio-neural circuitry.

One time, Neelix had this cheese,

and the bacteria almost destroyed...

I know all about the Neelix cheese.

There's a whole display for it on Deck Seven.

Don't open panels.

The ship was damaged by cheese?

It's Voyager. [bleep] got freaky.

Hmm. This ship is outdated and smells like Borg.

What about Tuvok?

You must be excited to see his quarters.

Perhaps. Are they austere?

These boxes are for a rotating exhibit.

Store them on the Cerritos, and please be careful.

Are you chewing gum?

TENDI: Ooh, after this, you want to get

a head start on tomorrow's titrations with me?

[gasps] We can label the test tubes.

T'LYN: I do enjoy an accurate label.

[air whistling]

?

There we go, all calibrated.

Hey, Doc, uh, want a ride back?

[grunts] Beats taking a shuttle.

BILLUPS: You know, growing up, I had a dragon named Fiddlesticks.

He was such a good boy.

He protected me from all sorts of affectionate...

Oh [bleep]. Why is it people

always have to tell me about their [bleep] pets?

Right. Sorry.

Cerritos, two to beam up.

LUNDY [over comms]: Copy, Commander. Energizing.

- [computer trills] - Something is wrong, sir.

- There's only one pattern. - [gasps]

[yowls] What the [bleep]?

Where am I? And, uh...

who am I?

Captain, we have a problem.

Something over there caused Billups and Dr. T'Ana

to merge in the transporter.

He's calling himself T'Illups.

This exact scenario happened to the Voyagercrew.

Everything is falling apart!

No need for panic.

I'm sure I can deal with this transporter situation

- on my own. - T'ILLUPS: Oh...

Just send me a copy of Janeway's logs.

I'll do whatever she did.

Sending now. Thank you, Captain.

She knows Janeway straight up murdered Tuvix, right?

Huh? Oh, I-I don't know.

What? Yes, you do. You're a know-it-all.

Get your head in the game.

This is a historically significant mission.

It's Voy, man.

I mean, it's not that historically significant.

What? Yes, it is.

[groans] I'm gonna make sure going to warp

didn't knock anything over.

We've got inertial dampeners. I'm sure everything is fine.

It won't be fine until we're on the ground. [yells]

Relax. They design these things to survive a photon blast.

Oops. Uh, let me just... Wait.

There's something behind the neural gel. [gasps]

- [yelping, gasping] - Somebody phaser it!

Look out!

Oh, God, it's on me!

Ugh, don't let it infect you.

- Don't shoot. - Why not?

It's a Tak Takian macrovirus.

It must've been dormant.

Macrovirus? Is it making me sick?

Everyone got inoculated years ago. It can't hurt you.

But it is perfect for the museum.

Good virus. Just stay right there.

Temba, his arms wide.

[gasps]

They're spraying DNA on my babies.

- Don't let them off the bridge. - Right, um, so...

Just stand in front of the door.

[screams]

- Boimler, are you kidding me? - Come on, man.

Shaka, when the walls fell, Ensign.

- Sokath, his eyes uncovered. - I pay attention.

- [glass shatters] - [alarm blaring]

How can you be this distracted over an empty ship?

Uh, you know, Chakotay served here.

Dude, this is nothing compared to, you know, that Pike thing

we aren't supposed to talk about.

Let's get these chunky cold sores under control

so we can get back to enjoying this.

RANSOM: They're self-replicating again!

- Mr. Boimler, get out here. - [gasps]

This is your fault.

T'ILLUPS: I told you, I feel [bleep] great.

Here, let me boost the range on that scanner.

He's been symbiogenetically merged

on a subcellular level, Captain.

It's called being Tuvixed.

The same thing happened to Commander Tuvok

and Neelix back in the '70s.

They beamed out with this flower,

and it caused them to merge into Tuvix,

a combination of their DNA and memories.

[gasps] That orchid was in one of the boxes we moved.

It must've gotten into the transporter.

And that's how T'Illups was born.

Captain, I caution against socializing with the organism.

Organism? [scoffs] I'm a totally unique sentient being.

Plus, I'm cool as [bleep].

We're gonna be best friends fast.

Yeah, T'Lyn, it doesn't hurt to be friendly,

since Mr. T'Illups didn't ask to be created.

Sure didn't, but here I am.

I love being alive.

Well, I'm sure that Janeway had a solution to this.

[chuckles] I'll be back shortly.

How many physical memories

do you have from before?

[gasping, whimpering]

Don't let them touch the exhibits!

No!

[computer trills]

COMPUTER: Initiating programs Chaotica,

Clown and Michael Sullivan.

Safety protocols set to random.

Random? No. Computer, set them to safety.

- Ooh. [laughs] - Surrender now,

or face the wrath of Chaotica.

[panting, whimpering]

These are, like, Voy'sdeepest cuts.

Not as deep as my cuts. Yah!

- [laughs] - [grunts]

[grunts] How are these guys even getting off the holodeck?

I installed holo-emitters all over the ship.

I thought you were preserving, not adding.

Oh, subtle updates that don't impact historical consistency

are an acceptable compromise for conservation.

Wha... Chaotica isn't subtle,

and the Clown wasn't even a holodeck pro...

[moans]

I love you, but I can't be with you.

Ooh, I like this guy, though.

[Clown laughing]

- [panting] - [others gasp]

- Watch out! The Borg display! - I got it!

[screams]

[whimpers, screams]

That promotion is starting to seem

a little less likely, Mr. Boimler.

- [sighs] - [curator screaming]

Did Janeway figure it out?

No, she just murdered him.

[stammers] There has to be more to it.

She isolated the genomes and split 'em up.

He begged her to live.

Holy [bleep]. Janeway didn't mess around.

[sighs] I don't want to kill the guy.

I mean, he didn't do anything wrong.

We aren't stranded in the Delta Quadrant.

We could take him to Earth and get some help.

Good call. Let's hurry.

Captain, do you think Dr. T'Ana will be okay?

[sighs] I think so, but it didn't take us long

to look up Janeway's solution.

Let's just hope Mr. T'Illups doesn't do the same.

Are you [bleep] kidding me?

Dr. Migleemo, I need your help, uh,

processing my existence.

MIGLEEMO [over comms]: Oh, what a dream.

Don't do any self-care until I get there.

CURATOR: Help! [screams] Help!

I can feel it trying to regenerate me.

Uh, maybe if I cut power, we can... [screams]

Stop helping, Ensign Boimler.

Why don't you take a break.

[grunting]

The alcove's activated. Look.

MARINER: What the hell is that?

RUTHERFORD: It's a Borg nanite. We must have missed one.

BOIMLER: It's supposed to be microscopic.

It must have assimilated to the macrovirus.

RANSOM: It's a macro-nanite?

- [Clowns laughing] - Congratulations.

You've won more Clowns.

I can't resist your touch.

- Let me hold you. - Computer!

Delete this guy. Come on, computer.

- [laughing] - [screams]

[whimpers]

We just want to talk, Mr. T'Illups.

T'ILLUPS: I don't think so. You're gonna kill me.

I promise you I'm not killing anyone,

but I am coming in.

T'ILLUPS: Help!

She's trying to kill me!

We're going to figure this out.

What? I can't hear you.

The Cerritosisn't stuck in the Delta Quadrant,

and Starfleet has the best doctors in the...

I know how this goes down.

- [both gasp] - Which is why I need allies.

[Freeman and Shaxs gasp]

FREEMAN: No, wait!

[screams]

Behold, Captain Dr. Frigleeman.

Bring me more scrumptious senior staff.

That's an order.

No!

Water, room temperature.

So, you're really okay with killing T'Illups?

I am here to hydrate, not debate on an anomaly's agency.

Well, I don't know. I just don't think it's ethical

to end someone's life to get our friends back.

I hardly know anyone here at all.

- I am impartial. - But we're friends.

[chuckles] Right?

- [weapon fires] - [gasps]

- [people screaming] - The bartender.

Tuvix him with Lundy.

[gasps]

[people screaming]

[door whooshes open]

TENDI: He's making more hybrids.

That appears to be an accurate assessment.

[grunts]

My career is ruined!

[crying]

[groans] Some of this stuff got in my mouth.

I'm getting you out of here. Just hang tight.

Dude, you don't need me.

Did Chaotica's ray gun steal all your confidence or something?

No, I'm just... [sighs]

- I'm having an off day. - Ugh!

This was supposed to be fun, and you ruined it.

- Voyager'sjust a ship, man. - [sighs] It's not that.

[sighs]

Ransom was gonna promote me today,

but I don't want it.

What are you talking about?

Did you eat some of that virus slime?

I'm worried it'll be like the Titan.

It took us months to repair our friendship.

I... I can't do that again.

[scoffs] This is a totally different situation.

It's not just that. I should've believed you

when the captain sent you to Starbase 80.

I have bad judgment. I-I don't deserve a promotion.

[laughs] You adorable idiot.

I'm the one who told Ransom to promote you.

- You did? - Yes.

I was just keeping my mouth shut so it'd be a surprise.

You aren't mad at me?

No. Look, I am really touched,

but this is why we can't keep secrets.

One of us always ends up covered in slime.

Yeah, and it's not coming up.

Would you just go save the ship already? You don't need me.

Thanks, Mariner. I'm glad we're friends.

Ew! Did you just pat me on the head?

Yeah, it felt weird to me, too. I'm sorry.

You are Chondus, and you're with friends.

This is Shabarnes and Swhale Swhalens.

He's a combination of Steve Stevens and Matt the whale.

I want a fish. [squeaks]

He's not my best work, but it matters not.

Soon, the entire [bleep] crew will be a Tuvix army!

[gasps]

Prepare to energize.

We have to do something.

I am already taking control of the transporters.

- You can do that? - Starfleet systems are easily circumvented.

Hey, what are you doing?

[yowls]

[gasps]

You combined all of them into one big Tuvix-y meatball?

Perhaps I could still split them

into their individual components.

Why isn't it working?

I cannot isolate their genetic signatures.

There are too many merged hybrids.

[Tendi gasps]

COMPUTER: Confirm new heading.

Setting a course to Borg Cube 858779.

Computer, cancel!

[both laughing]

[sighs] I miss my wife.

[door whooshes open]

RANSOM: Mr. Boimler.

Zap this stuff and get me down from here.

No time. I need an engineer.

- [gasps] Ow. - Sorry.

Wait! Free us, too!

If we survive this, we're having a long talk,

- Mr. Boim... Uh... - [door whooshes open]

- [door whooshes shut] - BOIMLER: Okay,

the macro bots have locked us out,

but we need to shut down main systems.

Um, um, uh, we got to break Voyager.

I got to break Voyager. Ooh, I have just the thing.

Yes, I knew you would.

The method employed by the Voyager'sEMH can only mark

one individual.

High command will not be impressed with my error.

TENDI: That scanner T'Illups suggested

picks up all sorts of stuff, including personality traits.

That's how we can fix this.

I fail to see how that helps me differentiate a whale

from Steve Stevens.

Because you don't know them. Look.

This area is proud, confident and a little silly.

Oh, that's the captain.

If I isolate genetic code

and you mark their personalities...

We can get everyone back.

Why are you helping me?

Do you not have ethical problems with this solution?

Well, yeah, I did, but, uh,

this is a non-sentient blob of meat,

so I'm willing to go outside my comfort zone. [chuckles]

I mean, for our friends.

Hmm. Thank you.

Are you sure this is gonna work?

Nope, but it feels like a kooky Voyagersolution,

- so it's worth a try. - COMPUTER: Bridge.

- [screams, grunts] - CHAOTICA: Any last words

before you feel the sting of my electro Luger?

Ha! There's only one thing

you haven't thought of, Dr. Chaotica.

[laughs] Please, I think of everything at all times.

[laughs] That's what you think.

What are you babbling about, fool?

I am not a Starfleet ensign.

I am the son of Captain Proton.

[gasps] No.

[laughs] I got it.

How could that be-be-be?

- [glitching continues] - It's working.

What the hell is wrong with you, Chaotica?

COMPUTER: Alert. Bio-neural systems shutting down.

[glitching]: Wh-Wh-Wh-What?

Saints preserve us.

I am full of love.

Ooh, I'll cut off your head!

- [screams] - [glitching laugh]

Oh, we did it. We broke Voyager.

What did you do to my beautiful ship?

I used the Neelix cheese.

It gummed up the neural network just the way it likes.

[screams]

[grunts] Let's get this bad boy locked up.

We should still have time to clean before we get to Earth.

Well done. [groans]

Now I have to add another exhibit to the Voyagerstory.

?

FREEMAN: Captain's log, supplemental.

After an embarrassing day

of being merged on a subcellular level

with my senior staff,

we are putting the awkwardness behind us

with a promotion ceremony.

[clears throat] Today's, uh...

frankly bizarre series of Voyagerthemed obstacles

only prove that you are all creative, accomplished officers.

Commander, please announce our new lieutenant junior grades.

RANSOM: Ensign Brad Boimler.

[others whooping]

Quick thinking today, Mr. Boimler.

Thank you, sir.

- Provisional Ensign T'Lyn. - [others whooping]

Unexpected, but appreciated.

- RANSOM: Ensign D'Vana Tendi. - Oh, my gosh! What? No way!

[others cheering]

Thank you, sir. Guys, I got a pip!

All right, that's what I'm talking about.

My main objective here is to prove to the High Council

that I should be reinstated to the Vulcan fleet.

But after today,

I have grown to respect your skills as a scientist.

I'm so excited we got promoted together.

Now we really can be best science friends.

That is not the lesson to take from this moment.

Damn, looks like half of Beta shift will be ensigns no more.

Ooh, let's hit the bar and celebrate.

And, finally, Ensign Beckett Mariner.

- Wait, wh-what? - [gasps]

- [applause] - [laughs]

Sir, I... No, this has to be a mistake.

Congratulations, Lieutenant.

- [door chimes] - Yo, yo.

Sir, this is wrong.

I don't want to get promoted.

I know you don't.

Okay, then stop sliding it back to me and throw it out.

Did you know Voyager's full of cameras?

Came in handy when putting together the old mission log.

I saw you help Boimler be the best he could be.

So what? Boimler loves being encouraged.

It's, like, his favorite thing.

I went back and dug through your record.

You've had a lot of small-minded commanders

who promoted then demoted you.

But now, you're with Jack Ransom.

I'm twice as smart as any of those other guys,

and I know you just need someone to believe in you.

Consider yourself lucky

that you have an amazing commanding officer.

Sir, I am refusing this promotion.

- You can't do this to me. - No, not gonna hear it.

- You're dismissed, Lieutenant. - No, this isn't over.

I'm not leaving.

For real. I-I'm staying right here

- until you listen to reason. - [grunts] You do you.

- [grunts] Feel the burn. - [groaning]

- Mm. - Yeah, I...

I couldn't even talk him out of it. He's such an idiot.

What are you so bummed about?

Now we get to be lieutenant JGs together.

[sighs] All of us except Rutherford.

I mean, I did break Voyager.

Engineers can't get promoted for breaking stuff.

We always fix things.

Shouldn't you be drunk and chanting

with a fist in the air right now?

Come on, no more bunks, no more holodeck duty!

We did it!

I know. I just, I-I can't believe

we're not lower decks anymore.

We're lieutenant junior grades,

the least important mid-level officers.

We do all the grunt work with none of the perks.

We're still lower decks.

Yeah, maybe you're right, and-and, hey,

maybe from now on, our lives will be a lot easier. All right.

MARINER and BOIMLER: Lower decks!

ALL: Lower decks! Lower decks!

- Lower decks! - Come on, T'Lyn.

Lower decks! Lower decks!

- [chanting continues] - TENDI: This is going to be great!

New jobs and no mysterious threats to get in our way.

GROUP: No mysterious threats!

[groans]

Cease that nervous honing and let me sleep.

I am not nervous. I am restless.

Eager to ram my blade through my enemies.

That's not a blade. It's a spear.

A coward's weapon used to poke a foe at a distance.

It has no honor.

Nobody calls me a coward and lives to tell the tale.

[grunts]

[both grunt]

Are you free for lunch today?

They are serving eyes or hearts or something.

[sighs] I cannot make it.

The captain has ordered me to sit with Commander Vekras

and transcribe his tedious battle tales.

It is a waste of time.

Ma'ah lucked his way into that captain's chair.

He forgets who his true allies are.

He won't be captain much longer.

- [alarm blaring] - [both gasp]

We are in battle. Who was wrong to sharpen their spear now?

[grunts]

?

I read one life sign on board, Captain.

Unknown vessel, you have drifted into Klingon space.

Identify yourself.

No response. Should we fire on them?

We gain no honor in destroying an incapacitated ship.

Mark their location and resume our course to Qo'noS.

Sir, it's moving.

KEY'LOR: They're charging weapons.

Destroy those qoHpu'.

I said fire.

I'm trying, but weapons are down.

What?

All systems are losing power.

That's impossible.

[all scream]

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org

[man imitates weapons firing]

Chirp.

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