Last Day of Vacation
Tom and B'Elanna drew lots on how to spend their last day of vacation. Tom won and they find themselves in the Museum of Bajoran Culture. He'd like to learn about Bajor and its History. B'Elanna is bored to death and couldn't care less about scrolls and artifacts. She prefers to dare herself with physically demanding experiences.
B'Elanna: So; this is how you wanted to spend our last day of vacation.
Tom Paris: Don't start! I made your day yesterday with the Stone Thrower. It's now my turn.
B'Elanna: Roller-coasters are exciting. This is dreary! Do you really enjoy staring at that amphora?
Tom Paris: B'Elanna; we flipped your Klingon medal yesterday. You lost. We already had fun your way and it is only fair...
B'Elanna doesn't let him finish.
B'Elanna: My way? Don't you like water-sports? And I assume you had a terrible time spelunking the Fire Caves.
Tom Paris: Not that; I was referring to shooting targets in Derna Moon an entire morning.
B'Elanna: Well, well, well! I happen to practice Biathlon since my Academy days. If you felt neglected, why didn't you speak your mind?
Tom Paris: Look; it's all right. I don't regret it; but Bajor is perhaps the oldest civilization in our quadrant and this museum is... Wow! Isn't that incredible? Look at that!
B'Elanna: What now? More amphoras? What's so far-fetched? I hate when you do this.
Tom walks away and leaves her behind. Something gets him fascinated.
Tom Paris: These ancient pictograms are similar to rock art found all over Earth,... my Earth I mean, portraying these guys in wetsuits holding strange tools.
B'Elanna: Whoever they were... never heard of prime directives and didn't care about contaminating primitive cultures.
B'Elanna points at a carved grey stone depicting a spacecraft,... which at the moment, they didn't realized it was kind of familiar.
Tom Paris: Well! We don't know what happened. Maybe they had to intervene.
B'Elanna: You just don't intervene; period! Those are nice tapestries by the way.
Tom was taken a little bit aback; but he appreciated she at least liked fabrics with a few designs made of coloured weft-threads.
Tom Paris: C'mon B'Elanna! Don't you like History?
B'Elanna: Sorry! But past can hurt you a lot sometimes.
They pass by a few obsidian blades in display.
Tom Paris: Okay! I have a deal. You indulge me with Archeology today and tomorrow, before leaving, we visit Harry in DS9 and enjoy its thematic facilities.
B'Elanna: All right! I like that. I heard its Holo-Deck is capable of role-playing your most thrilling memories.
Tom Paris: See? I'm always willing to please you. I don't mind recreating a day or two in our lives as renegades in the Demilitarized Zone.
B'Elanna: No! That's the kind of past that hurts. I'm way over Maquis and done with Cardassians. I was thinking of Hirogens. Those... tIn-wamwI'-ghe'tor!
Tom Paris: Hirogens... Yeah! We could settle some scores with those overgrown nomads from hell.
Chakotay's Guest Room
Icheb and Miral wrap up together in bed. A vintage spaceship-model hanging off a hook grasps her attention. A crystal prism catches bright afternoon lights.
Miral: That Starship resembles an armored version of Archer's NX-01.
Icheb: That is the Enterprise Cruiser. It played a pivotal role during the Romulan War.
Miral: Same designation; but different features.
Icheb: It was a top secret project back then. Starfleet overhauled the Enterprise NX-01 with alien technologies.
Miral: How do you know all that?
Icheb: I took the Seminar: History of Warp Travel - Voyager's Timeline.
Miral: They don't teach that anymore.
Icheb: I don't believe you.
Miral: Well; they do, but it is not mandatory. We aren't that popular anymore.
Icheb: Too bad! History is like Algebra. It may one day save your life.
Miral: You're hysterical. Who cares about History of our timeline?
Icheb: Some people do.
Miral: If anything; a few may study their timeline. To be honest with you; Transwarp Travel is of much more interest these days.
Icheb: Now; that is hysterical. They teach you about a technology not yet available.
Miral has an expression of triumph in her face. She can counter him.
Miral: Teleportation wasn't available for some time; but we knew it was possible to energize matter from one place to another at transwarp speeds.
Icheb: Ha! So; you do know a little bit of our History after all.
Miral: Anything on communication attracts me...
Icheb takes advantage of the opportunity to bring up an issue.
Icheb: Interesting! When are we going to communicate others about us?
Miral: Icheb; please, don't spoil our moment.
Icheb: It's silly! We are XXIV Century adults. They are our relatives.
Miral: My mother isn't ready. You don't understand. She is half Klingon. She has genes for disapproval.
Icheb: Don't give me the genetic speech! I am then an adopted Brunali with a Borg past and I must have genes for sacrificing children or something.
Miral: Exactly! Wait! I didn't mean it. My mother though...
Her comment stunts Icheb. They hear noises. Chakotay arrives home. He picks up a tricorder left over his piano and plays Bridge over Troubled Water.
Chakotay's Living Room
Miral grins and jumps out the window. Icheb joins Chakotay.
Icheb: Nice ballad!
Chakotay: It's an old tune... about dreaming and sailing with friends.
Icheb: I heard your class thrives with... questions and answers.
He's nervous.
Chakotay: Cadets like discussing an off-topic... Voyager's technological quest!
Icheb: I imagine they want to hear it all from... our First Officer.
Chakotay: We're circus' freaks; Icheb. For them; our History is fantasy. For us; real.
Icheb: We're not such an off-topic. We went through technology convergence... for real.
Chakotay: Technology convergence began way before us.
Icheb is a terrible actor.
Icheb: Wait! I think someone has arrived.
Chakotay: I wonder who that could be.
Icheb: I know. It's too early for dinner, right?
Chakotay pretends to be unaware with a consenting gesture.
Rendezvous with Miral
Miral and Icheb enjoy appetizers. Chakotay plays piano. His living room is decorated with prehistoric artworks and a colourful mural.
Miral: This kind of ancient art baffles me. These guys here seem to be wearing spacesuits. Is it my idea or are they alien visitors violating the Prime Directive?
Icheb: You shouldn't judge aliens on clothing and first impressions. It may have been just another typical case of technology convergence.
Miral: What?
They all smile.
Chakotay: Neolithic folks had their rituals. All these pieces represent tribal spiritual links and life-changing experiences... like being taught agriculture and stonework.
Icheb: Brunali people believe... Halberd Gods taught them to crop and build walls.
Miral: Curious! Hefty Chancellors supposedly ordered Klingons to seed naH and lay bricks of mud.
Chakotay isn't a bit impressed by the stories.
Chakotay: Which lead us to ask ourselves who started technology convergence.
Miral: Captain Chakotay... but do we know that for certain?
Icheb: Someone started it.
Miral: Who? The Borg? Do they converge?
Icheb: They do in a way; by assimilating species whose technology is noticeable.
Miral: Yeah; but nothing is there for their "loyal" drones. Don't you think?
Chakotay: Under threat of obliteration; even Borg may give up technology.
Miral quickly switches to another motive.
Miral: What did you mean by spiritual links?
Chakotay: My tribe, for example, in our time-line... left Earth to escape technological extremes; wait for the Sky Spirits to return and embark on a pathway of natural coexistence.
Miral shows some concern.
Miral: There is a thin line though between convergence and cultural contamination.
Icheb: You may stumble with ambiguous situations; I suppose.
Chakotay: We met a prosperous Human civilization in the Delta Quadrant.
Miral: I know... the 37s. I read about them.
Her answer jolts Icheb. It seems she reads History once in while.
Chakotay: They flourished in an L-Class planet with technology left there by aliens who had abducted their ancestors from Earth.
Icheb: Our scientists didn't waste any time either at studying Voyager to develop their own version of the Intrepid Class Starship in this time-line.
Miral: I'm all for it; as long as they don't set Borg nanoprobes free.
Chakotay hopes the same.
Chakotay: Starfleet knows how to contain potential hazards from outer Space.
Icheb: What happened in Voyager; stayed in Voyager.
Miral: Cheers! Hum! This mural is beautiful; and yet so abstract. What it's about?
Icheb: Maybe; it is not for everybody to appreciate it.
Miral: Stop it! Would you?
Chakotay guides her.
Chakotay: It is a subliminal design; focus your sight on a single spot until you visualize it beneath your conscious perception.
Miral: Okay; wait, I see it all! It is a combat between strange aircrafts.
Icheb: Yep; over Nuremberg, Germany, 1561.
Miral: Which time-line?
Icheb: Ours... the one we came from.
Chakotay: The event was never registered in this alternate reality.
Icheb: One of those ancient discrepancies...
Miral: No way! Vulcans didn't make First Contact with Humans until centuries later.
Icheb is taken aback again.
Chakotay: Witnesses didn't see aliens; but they assure these numerous cylinders were pinning down this bright sphere and that slick vessel over there, when out of nowhere a giant dark spear came to their rescue.
Miral: Do you think this battle actually occurred?
Icheb: Well; these don't seem to be high-altitude weather balloons.
Miral elbows Icheb.
Chakotay: It may have been a reflection from somewhere else. I don't know.
Miral: You mean Germans watched a flick beamed by aliens from far away? That's so unreal!
Miral, Icheb and Chakotay swiftly get beamed away by a powerful teleportation system.
Friends' Reunion
Tom and B'Elanna join up with Harry on DS9 Promenade. B'Elanna observes changes in Harry as he plays with a ring.
Tom Paris: What is it with that scar? Did someone bit your face?
B'Elanna: I don't want to be intrusive, Harry. But; you behave like a chosen mate.
Harry Kim: Oh; Jeez! Is it that obvious?
Tom Paris: What? What am I missing?
B'Elanna: He's engaged to a Klingon female. He's wearing her ring with the insignia of the House of Mogh. I wonder what happened.
Harry Kim: She came at me furious; roaring and hurling furniture.
Tom Paris: Harry! You caused quite an impression on her.
B'Elanna: Don't tell me; you didn't do anything to get her so stimulated.
Harry Kim: I stood for her in a brawl.
B'Elanna: Well; that would certainly be appreciated.
Tom Paris: I can't believe that was it.
B'Elanna: Did you read love poetry to her?
Harry Kim: Poetry? No; I played my clarinet for her... a few notes.
Tom Paris: Harry...
Harry Kim: To cool her off!
B'Elanna: Unusual; but I guess it worked for her.
Harry gains confidence as they walk towards the thematic facilities.
Harry Kim: She clawed at me and bit my face.
B'Elanna: Of course she did; she had to taste your scent. Do you love her?
Harry Kim: Yes; I do. It was love at first sight; but I didn't know how to approach her.
Tom Paris: You surely drew each other very close. When is the wedding?
Harry Kim: I don't know; summer? She is in Qo'noS, making arrangements. Her mother is all right; but her father believes in this linage thing.
B'Elanna grins tearfully.
B'Elanna: He'll challenge you; but don't worry, prenuptial fights are usually non-fatal.
Harry Kim: Good to know!
B'Elanna: Female Klingons are spirited wives and devoted mothers.
B'Elanna winks at Tom for reassurance. Tom must consent.
Tom Paris: B'Elanna's mother was Klingon; you know.
Harry shakes his head in sign of disbelief.
Harry Kim: Yes; I know that.
B'Elanna: She was proud of her linage and beliefs; and was hell of a hunter.
Tom Paris: B'Elanna's hunting skills are extraordinary.
B'Elanna smirks and playfully hits him. Tom embraces her from a side. Janeway and Tuvok wander in a secluded transporter chamber. They can't make their tricorders work. Neelix grows impatient. Seven plays Kadis-kot with her children. Thamas is thrilled with its hexagonal colored pieces. Bhytor makes a hush sign when mother isn't looking. The Borg anomaly rapidly makes its way through the Gamma Quadrant and start affecting systems on DS9. Harry, Tom and B'Elanna arrive at its sophisticated Holo Deck. Captain Nerys stares at her silent boss. Admiral Sisko taps fingers over his desk.
Harry Kim: Thank's guys! I'm glad we got together. If I don't see you before departure, have a nice voyage home.
Tom Paris: Harry; too bad you can't join us!
Harry Kim: I'd love to; but I have my hands full. Communications are disrupted.
B'Elanna: Did you check for Neutrino Pulses? Their levels can be highly disconcerting in this region of deep space.
Tom Paris: B'Elanna; please...
Harry Kim: Tests came back negative for Neutrino Pulses.
Tom Paris: See? Nothing to worry about!
Harry Kim: Troubles are caused by a trans-warp anomaly.
B'Elanna: What kind? Where is it?
Harry Kim: An energized matter stream traveling across Dominion's subspace.
Harry summarizes the phenomena...
B'Elanna: Sounds pretty Borgish to me.
Tom Paris: B'Elanna...
Harry Kim: Dominion reports a Borg-like signature; but it doesn't go as fast.
B'Elanna: Did they isolate tri-quantum waves? If charts show high symmetry in power utilization, it is a Borg anomaly regardless of speed.
Harry Kim: Well; the Dominion is not big in sharing information.
Tom Paris: Yeah! I imagine their intention was to prevent us from blaming them.
B'Elanna: The Dominion... always so upbeat!
Tom Paris: B'Elanna! Harry can handle it. We're on vacation.
Tom points towards what they came for.
Harry Kim: Yeah! Enjoy your visit! This Holo-Deck is a Xyrillian design. You place your hands in this casket. When granules glow, DS9 Holomatrix will retrieve and interface with your memories to run a self-aware simulator-program.
B'Elanna: Sounds thrilling...
Harry Kim: I tried it once. Believe me; it is mind blowing.
Tom Paris: What about safety protocols?
Harry Kim: Intuitive! This is a system with a mind of its own. No worries! You won't be unarmed. You'll be allowed to carry TR-116 virtual rifles.
B'Elanna: Having cold feet; Tom?
Tom Paris: Not at all! You know me; always concerned with risk management.
Harry Kim: All right guys; have fun!
Borg Queen dreams in her regenerating alcove. Bolts hop down vibrating wormholes.